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i. yosano akiko
It’s Monday, and Akiko is stuck between Ranpo and Kenji—the ADA’s newest recruit—on a thirty-minute train ride. Ranpo spent the first half of the ride alternating between munching on candy and complaining, and now he’s fallen asleep, his head resting against Akiko’s shoulder. Kenji has been eagerly watching everything through the windows and observing the people around them, still unused to trains and the city and…basically everything surrounding them.
The client they’re traveling to meet is an old acquaintance of Fukuzawa’s who specifically requested Ranpo’s expertise after the local police failed her. Fukuzawa agreed, his only request being that she allow their newest member to tag along so he can see Ranpo in action. And, of course, Akiko was dragged into it because neither Ranpo nor Kenji can take the train on their own.
Akiko doesn’t mind, really. There are far worse things she could be doing—like listening to Kunikida and Dazai’s incessant bicker-flirting that makes her want to lock them in a storage closet together and see what happens. Really, this is an easy day for her; all she has to do is guide Ranpo and Kenji through the train stations and make sure they get where they need to go. Ranpo is the one who will be doing all the work.
(Though Akiko is smart enough to not point that out.)
She looks over at Kenji, who is rocking slightly in his seat, twisting his fingers together and humming to himself. He’s intermittently blinking rapidly, and Akiko frowns to herself.
While Fukuzawa was in the process of scouting Kenji and discussing his move to Yokohama with his family, he informed Akiko that Kenji has a tic disorder. As the Agency doctor, Akiko took on the responsibility of researching and informing the other ADA members what all Tourette’s Syndrome might entail, as well as what they can do to help Kenji and what they most certainly should not do in response to it.
And, well, maybe that last part had mostly been for Ranpo’s benefit. But he doesn’t need to know that.
All that to say—the uptick in Kenji’s tics and fidgeting seems to be marking a spike in his anxiety. Understandable, as they’re nearing their destination and this is the furthest Kenji’s been for a case. Not to mention, it’s the first time Kunikida won’t be with him.
Akiko shifts slightly, causing Ranpo to grumble in his sleep. But she manages to slip a hand into her bag and pull out the stress ball Kunikida gave her in case of this exact scenario.
“We’ve learned fidget toys help,” Kunikida said, voice low so Kenji couldn’t hear. “He may bring one himself, but in case he doesn’t…”
Akiko nodded understandingly. “He might not even think to bring one. I’ll make sure I have it with me.”
Some of the tension in Kunikida’s shoulders seeped away. “Exactly. I just— I want to make sure he’s okay. He isn’t even used to the big city yet, and now he’s going to another new place, and—”
“Relax,” Akiko chided. “I know the kid is living with you, but that doesn’t mean you’re the only one responsible for his safety. I can handle it.”
Akiko presses the stress ball into Kenji’s hands, and he looks up at her with wide eyes. “What’s this?”
“You seem anxious. I thought it might be better if you have something to fidget with that isn’t your fingers.”
“Oh.” Kenji looks down at the stress ball. He gives it an experimental squeeze, then relaxes marginally. “Thank you. …I forgot to bring my own,” he admits, smiling sheepishly. “I’m still not used to having them, I guess. I just sort of made my own fidget toys at home, with whatever we had lying around.”
“No problem,” Akiko responds, keeping her voice light. Now that she looks closer, she can see pink spots on Kenji’s fingers, likely from the pressure brought on by so much twisting. She makes a mental note to talk to Fukuzawa and Kunikida about purchasing a few fidget toys for the office.
Just in case.
Akiko is a doctor, after all. And while she may enjoy threatening her coworkers with use of her ability, she doesn’t really want to see any of them suffering needless injury.
ii. edogawa ranpo
It’s Tuesday, and Ranpo is bored.
Not that that’s any different than usual, but it’s physically weighing him down today. It isn’t even lunch yet, and Ranpo feels crushed beneath the weight of the day’s dullness. He’s itching for another case, or a new client, or even the excitement of Dazai baiting Kunikida into a fight that will inevitably end with them making out in a storage closet, thinking they’re being subtle when they’re really, really, not.
Unfortunately, Dazai and Kunikida are out on a case of their own and Ranpo is stuck in the office, bored out of his mind.
Kenji is seated at his desk, working on the report from yesterday’s case because the best part of new recruits is that you can pawn your work off onto them. Well— Except for Dazai, who seems even less prone to completing paperwork than Ranpo is. But Dazai was a special case.
Ranpo opens another bag of chips, observing Kenji as he does so. Kenji clacks his teeth together once. Twice. Three times.
That makes forty-eight times in the past hour. Ranpo’s own teeth hurt just thinking about it, and the sound has progressively gotten louder as time has gone on, which means Kenji has been progressively clicking his teeth harder and harder. It can’t be good for his jaw, and it’s certainly not good for Ranpo’s mental stability.
He’s already suffering from immense understimulation; he doesn’t need the one tic of Kenji’s that actually seems to bother him to grate against his brain any more than it already is.
Ranpo glances around the office. Jun’ichiro is the only other person in the room, and he’s absorbed in his own work.
Satisfied that he won’t be caught, Ranpo pulls open one of his desk drawers. He reaches into his bag of lollipops and pulls out a small handful. Not too many—someone (Dazai) will get suspicious if he announces he needs a new bag so soon after he got this one—and he makes sure he isn’t giving away any of his favorite flavors. He’s being nice enough as is, breaking his one steadfast rule that all of his candy is for him only.
(Which is why no one else can know. If word gets out that Ranpo shared with Kenji, then everyone else will think they also deserve to be share Ranpo’s candy, and they absolutely do not.)
Ranpo stands, shutting the drawer with his foot, then slips over to Kenji’s desk.
“Here,” he says, depositing the lollipops on top of the papers he’s looking over. “If you tell anyone I gave you these, I will never trust you with anything ever again.”
Kenji blinks up at him. He looks down at the candy, then back up at Ranpo. “What are these for?”
Ranpo bites back a groan. “For your tics. Obviously. You’ve been clacking your teeth together all morning. You can’t honestly tell me you didn’t even notice.”
Kenji hesitates. “Well… Not really…”
Ranpo rolls his eyes before he can think better of it. He can hear Yosano scolding him in the back of his mind, but he tells her to shut up.
Kenji picks up a lollipop and looks it over. Slowly, he peels the wrapper from it and sticks it in his mouth.
Satisfied that he can now go back to being bored in peace, Ranpo turns away. But before he can leave, Kenji speaks up. “Ranpo-san?”
Ranpo looks over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow.
“Can you read this for me?”
Ranpo furrows his eyebrows. Kenji clears the lollipops off his papers, then points to a footnote at the bottom of the page.
Ranpo leans in closer to get a better look. It seems to be in the same font and typeset as footnotes typically are, but he humors Kenji anyways. “It says, ‘In reference to the table on page nine’.”
“The table on page nine,” Kenji repeats under his breath. “Okay, thanks! The regular size kanji are already hard enough to decipher, so the smaller ones can be nearly impossible.”
Ranpo pauses. “What do you mean,” he asks, except it comes out flat. “Why’d you agree to do this if you can’t read?”
“Oh, I can read!” Kenji assures him. “I just have dyslexia, so it takes a while sometimes.”
Ranpo blinks. He looks at the stack of papers on Kenji’s desk.
He hates that he’s about to do this.
“Move your chair over,” he orders.
“What—?”
“Do it before I change my mind!”
Kenji obeys, and Ranpo pulls his own chair over to Kenji’s desk, bringing a generous amount of snacks with him. He’s never going to live it down if Yosano decides to come out of her office right now, but he also can’t believe he missed something so glaringly obvious in his initial observation of Kenji, and now he has a responsibility to make up for it.
“Okay.” Ranpo pulls the report closer to him. “This is the only time I will help you, so don’t get used to it. Now, let me show you how to go over a report like this while putting in as little effort as possible.”
iii. tanizaki jun'ichiro
It’s Wednesday, and Jun’ichiro has never been so tired. He still has an hour before he can leave, but with the way he’s nearly falling asleep at his desk, he doubts any more work will be getting done today. He’s been staring at the same document on his laptop for twenty minutes now, and he’s no closer to comprehending it now than he was when he began.
He looks up, taking in the office around him. Ranpo is either sleeping or pretending to be asleep so he doesn’t have to do work, Kunikida and Dazai both disappeared a while ago and have yet to return, Yosano is in her own office, and Kenji is seated at his desk, absently tugging on strands of his hair as he reads. It’s a typical, boring day, and there’s nothing exciting enough to wake Jun’ichiro up—
Wait.
Jun’ichiro’s gaze sweeps back over to Kenji. Tugging at his bangs.
Last week, he’d offhandedly mentioned that it’s a bad habit—that he only does it because his hands constantly need to be doing something and if he has nothing else, his hair is always there for him to mess with. But he’ll start tugging to the point where it hurts, and he won’t be able to get himself to stop.
Jun’ichiro pushes his chair back from his desk and stands, pausing momentarily as his vision swims, before continuing over to Kenji’s desk. As he goes, he removes the hair clip from his hair.
He gently taps the kid on the shoulder, drawing Kenji’s focus to him.
“Oh, hi, Jun’ichiro-san!” He greets brightly. “Can I help you with something?”
Jun’ichiro shakes his head, pushing down the anxiety that seemingly bubbled up from nowhere, as often happens when he decides to initiate conversation. But he’s gotten better at pushing past his nerves, so he swallows and begins speaking, hoping he sounds at least slightly more confident and put-together than he feels. “I just noticed you were pulling at your hair, and I didn’t want you hurting yourself, so—” he holds out his hair clip. “Would it help if your bangs weren’t in your face?”
“Um—” Kenji rolls his shoulder. “I— I don’t want to take your hair clip from you,” he says hesitantly.
“It’s no big deal, really,” Jun’ichiro assures him. “I’ve got plenty more at home. I— I’m not going to, like, force you to use it or anything; I just thought it might help…” Jun’ichiro’s voice fades out when he realizes he doesn’t exactly have anything else to say. But Kenji’s lack of positive response has his heartbeat picking up and he sort of wishes he’d just let the kid be and trust he would have asked if he really needed help.
(Except, maybe he wouldn’t have, because Kenji seems to hate feeling like a burden. Jun’ichiro knows this, because he can be the same way.)
But then Kenji nods, and the tightness in Jun’ichiro’s chest eases. “Yeah. I think it would help. Thank you.”
Jun’ichiro smiles. “Of course! Here— Let me put it in for you.”
He crouches down so he’s at eye-level with Kenji, then moves Kenji’s bangs to the side. He fastens them in place with the hair clip, a task made easy by years of helping Naomi with her hair.
When he steps back, Kenji is smiling widely.
“Better?” Jun’ichiro asks.
Kenji nods emphatically. “Yeah! Thank you so much!”
Jun’ichiro pats his head, careful not to mess up his handiwork. “If there’s ever anything else you need, just let me know, alright? I’m always happy to help.”
“I will,” Kenji promises, and Jun’ichiro really hopes this might be the start of a solid friendship between them.
iv. dazai osamu
It’s Thursday, and Dazai is late.
Of course, this is nothing new, because Dazai is usually late. But today, he has a reason for being late. Because Kenji has been stressed this week, and the stress has been worsening his tics, and if Dazai’s calculations are correct—and when aren’t they?—Kenji has until about nine this morning before his shoulder pain picks up enough that it hinders his ability to work.
So, Dazai pulled himself out of bed this morning with one goal in mind. It helps, sometimes, to have a reason to wake up that is not dragging himself to work. It makes going through the motions of his morning routine a bit easier to handle.
He’d left his dorm right on time, and then he’d started walking in the opposite direction of the Agency. Now, he’s searching the aisles of a pharmacy for disposable heating pads, and he is officially late. Given his track record, he still has fifteen minutes before Kunikida’s first text. Then another fifteen minutes before the second one.
It won’t take that long, though. Just because Kenji isn’t yet in enough pain to necessitate a break doesn’t mean he’s in no pain at all. He woke up this morning with stiff shoulders, but elected to soothe them by rubbing them for a bit and insisting he’s fine. He’s probably been rolling them intermittently all morning, and that’s what will steadily increase the level of pain he’s in.
So, the sooner Dazai can get to the Agency, the better.
He spends several minutes looking over his options before inevitably selecting the cheapest one. If Kunikida hadn’t been distracting him last night, he might have thought to swipe the Agency’s card for medical purchases. He and Kunikida were the last two in the office—admittedly, only because Dazai had dragged Kunikida away from his work near the end of the workday, but Kunikida had refused to leave his report unfinished, so rudely forcing Dazai to wait on him. But he’d been too busy staring at Kunikida’s fingers flying across his keyboard and the faint flush still afflicting his face and his stupid little ribbon tie re-tied unevenly in his rush to get back to work. And the moment Kunikida had finished, Dazai physically dragged him out of the office, unable to wait a moment longer to get him alone somewhere other than the Agency headquarters.
So, he’d been slightly pre-occupied.
He takes two heating pads from the shelf. They claim to last eight hours each, but Dazai has his doubts, and regardless, it won’t hurt if Kenji keeps an extra in his desk drawer.
He makes it to work with forty-seven seconds to spare until Kunikida’s second text inquiring about his whereabouts.
“Told you he’d be here soon,” Ranpo says through a mouthful of chips. He picks up a second bag and throws it at Dazai, who catches it only thanks to his brilliant reflexes.
“What’s this?” Dazai asks as he makes his way over to his own desk. He sets the grocery bag down alongside the chips, then takes off his coat and drapes it over the back of his chair.
“Your breakfast. You skipped this morning because you had to go to the store, and I assume you paid with your own card since Kunikida-kun didn’t come in here this morning cursing you for stealing his, and Yosano hasn’t reported the Agency’s card missing.”
Dazai tosses the chips back. “I always skip breakfast.”
Ranpo throws the chips again, this time harder, aiming for Dazai’s head. Dazai ducks out of the way, specifically because that puts Kunikida directly in the line of fire.
The bag smacks Kunikida in the face, then falls to his desk. His expression remains impassive as he says, very sternly, approximately half a second away from exploding into shouting, “Dazai, if you don’t take the chips and eat them right now, I will stab you in the stomach, and it will be incredibly painful. Ranpo-san, stop throwing things.”
“It’s Dazai-kun’s fault,” Ranpo calls back.
Dazai snickers as a vein pops out on Kunikida’s forehead. Obediently, he takes the chips—though he simply tosses them back onto his own desk rather than opening them straight away. “Kunikida-kun,” he croons, “don’t be so tense!”
He dances out of reach before Kunikida can go after him.
“Why are you even late today?” Kunikida grumbles, and he actually spares a glance up from his work to look at Dazai.
“Oh!” Dazai claps his hands together. “I brought a present! Not for you, though, sorry. Well, I can give you something later~” he wiggles his eyebrows suggestively.
“Dazai.”
“Kidding!” He’s not, but the rest of the Agency doesn’t need to know that. He picks up his grocery bag and carries it over to Kenji’s desk. “Here,” he says, dropping it on top of a stack of papers. “For your shoulders.”
Kenji hesitates, staring at the bag. “Huh?”
“Heat helps with the pain, right? These heating pads are disposable, and they’ll stick to your back so you can wear them while you work, since I know you’d rather do that than have to leave early.”
Kenji stares at him for a moment, eyes wide.
Then, he reaches into the bag and pulls out one of the heating pads. He examines the package, mumbling to himself about how amazing city inventions are.
“I’m sure Yosano-sensei will help you put it on.” Dazai gestures vaguely towards Yosano’s office as he makes his way back to his own desk.
When he sits down, it’s to Kunikida’s scrutinizing gaze fixed on him, focusing in on something other than the work he’s supposed to be doing for once.
(Although, Dazai’s gotten much better at diverting Kunikida’s attention to him, as of late.)
“What?” Dazai asks innocently.
Kunikida watches him for a moment longer, then shakes his head and looks away. “Nothing,” he mumbles.
It isn’t nothing, but Dazai decides not to push right now. He’ll have a far better chance of drawing out a confession when the two of them are alone.
v. kunikida doppo
It’s Friday, and Kunikida is out of band-aids. Which wouldn’t normally be a problem, because Kunikida is not in the business of sustaining small injuries that require a band-aid to cover them.
Unfortunately, Kunikida is now sharing his dorm with a fourteen-year-old child who occasionally bites his nails to the point of drawing blood, and Kunikida is also not in the business of leaving bleeding injuries exposed. It risks getting blood on things that should not get blood on them, and it risks worsening the injury, regardless of how small it is to begin with.
Which is why he finds himself standing outside Dazai’s door at six in the morning, arms crossed over his chest as he waits for Dazai to answer. He watches the clock on his wrist, counting down the seconds before he fishes the spare key from his pocket and lets himself in.
With two seconds left, Dazai swings the door open. He’s still wearing pajamas, of course, and the dark circles under his eyes almost make Kunikida regret bothering him.
Almost.
Dazai has caused him enough suffering that the guilt evaporates as soon as he remembers he isn’t even here for himself; he’s here for Kenji’s sake.
Before Dazai has a chance to ask what Kunikida wants, he pushes into the apartment. “I need band-aids,” he explains as he makes his way to the bathroom. “I know you have some, because I saw them when I was here yesterday.”
Dazai groans as he slams the door shut. “This couldn’t have waited?”
“No. It’s for Kenji-kun.”
Dazai groans again, louder this time. Kunikida ignores him.
He finds the box of band-aids exactly where he saw it yesterday, in the top left drawer of Dazai’s bathroom counter. As Kunikida opens the box, Dazai wraps his arms around him, burying his face in Kunikida’s shoulder. He mumbles something unintelligible, and Kunikida sighs fondly.
“I need to go,” he says, though his voice lacks its usual sharpness.
“But Kunikida….”
“Dazai,” Kunikida warns. “Kenji-kun is in my apartment, bleeding. I need to take this to him.”
Dazai huffs. He presses a kiss to Kunikida’s shoulder, then disentangles himself. “Fine, fine. You can go.”
He must still be tired if he’s giving in so easily—that, or he’s already plotting his revenge—but Kunikida will take what he can get.
(Still, he allows himself to steal just one kiss before he makes his way back to his own dorm room and a waiting Kenji.)
When he returns, Kenji is still seated at the kitchen table, holding a tissue to his finger to stop the flow of blood. It wasn’t a bad injury by any means, but Kunikida very much does not enjoy cleaning blood out of his couch cushions or his carpet or clothing or—anything, really. And without a band-aid covering the injury, Kunikida is sure Kenji will inadvertently just end up breaking the skin again.
“Okay, let’s look at your finger,” Kunikida says, placing the band-aid down next to the antibiotic ointment he’d already grabbed from his own bathroom.
Kenji removes the tissue and extends his arm. “It’s not too bad, and I think the bleeding has stopped.”
Kunikida nods, adjusting his glasses. “That’s good. Is it alright if I touch your hand?”
Kenji nods.
Kunikida takes Kenji’s hand into his, gently, keeping his grip loose so Kenji can still move how he needs. Carefully, he dabs ointment onto the injury. Kenji was right—it isn’t bad, but Kunikida doesn’t want him rubbing it against anything or otherwise aggravating it. So he wraps the band-aid around it, secure but not too tight, and then he breathes out a sigh of relief.
He disposes of the band-aid wrapper and the bloodied tissue, then washes his hands.
“Thank you, Kunikida-san,” Kenji says politely.
“Of course.” Kunikida procures a second band-aid from his pocket and holds it out for Kenji. “Keep this with you, in case that one comes off.”
Kenji accepts it with a diligent nod, slipping it into his own pocket.
“And,” Kunikida continues, “if you need another once we’re at the office, Yosano-sensei should have some.”
“Okay!”
“Last thing,” Kunikida says before Kenji can walk away. He turns, picking up a banana from the counter, then hands that to Kenji as well. “Breakfast.”
“But—”
“No ‘but’s,” Kunikida interrupts firmly. He’s noticed Kenji’s tendency to skip out on breakfast. And while Kenji is far from the only member of the ADA to have issues when it comes to feeding themselves properly, he is the only child, and as long as he’s living with Kunikida, he is also Kunikida’s responsibility. “This won’t be enough to put you to sleep; you’ll be fine.”
Kenji accepts the banana.
With Kenji taken care of, Kunikida can now turn his focus back to himself. They have exactly thirteen minutes and twenty-three seconds until they need to leave, and Kunikida is not going to be late to work.
+ i.
It’s Saturday, and Kenji has a plan.
Moving to the city had been scary, Kenji won’t lie. It was the most exciting thing to happen to him, but it was also terrifying to be so far from home, in a world full of things he’d never seen before. Buildings that touch the clouds, an abundance of loud mechanical noises, crowded streets, cars and buses and trains, electronic devices he’d only heard stories about from the few people in his village who had ventured outside of it, and a bartering system that relies on slips of paper and coins.
It’s a whole new world, but the people at the Armed Detective Agency have all been kind, helping him learn how the city works. And they’ve been understanding of his Tourette’s, helping him navigate the differences between having Tourette’s when you live in a small town versus when you live in a big city.
Back home, Kenji’s fidget toys were mostly self-made. And because he’d still had trouble controlling his strength, it was better that way—no one would care if he crumbled spare scraps of metal or if he splintered rotting wood.
Now that he’s an official member of the ADA, he has a better grasp on his power. Which means the city fidget toys that would have previously been accidentally crushed in his hands can actually offer reprieve. Kunikida had been kind enough to buy him several, though Kenji is still working to remember he actually has them, and he can use them whenever he wants.
He’s been introduced to new things, too. He hadn’t considered soothing his mouth tics with hard candy until Ranpo offered him lollipops, nor had he thought about simply clipping his hair back on days when his fingers compulsively reach for the strands and tug and tug and tug until it hurts, though he can never make himself stop.
And the heating pads from Dazai—Kenji figured out heat helps soothe the muscle pain borne from tics straining his body before he moved to Yokohama. But it had been such a hassle to warm a bath or slowly heat a handmade heating pad over a fire. The city heating pads are so much easier! All Kenji had to do was rip open the package and ask Yosano to stick it to his back, and after a few minutes, it began to heat up and relieve the pain in Kenji’s shoulders.
Even having someone like Kunikida, so worried about such a small injury as he was yesterday morning, is new. Kenji has suffered much worse, but he’d let Kunikida fuss over him anyway, because he knows that’s how Kunikida shows he cares.
He’s been keeping a mental list of all the new solutions the other ADA members have introduced him to, but he’s also realized that they’ve been helping him so much, and Kenji hasn’t really done anything for them in return.
Hence, his plan.
Kunikida spent last night at Dazai’s—or, that’s what Kenji is assuming. He’d gone over to Dazai’s place last night, and he has yet to return, but Kenji isn’t particularly worried because Kunikida and Dazai seem to like having sleepovers. They also like to pretend they dislike each other at work, but Kunikida talks about Dazai way too much to actually hate him.
City friendships are weird, Kenji has decided.
Anyway, Kunikida is still gone, which leaves Kenji free to do as he pleases without worrying about him figuring out the plan.
It’s a simple plan, really. But Kenji thinks it will still be enough to express his gratitude towards the other members of the ADA.
Before Kenji moved to the city, he found weaving flowers (and other various plants) into flower crowns was a good way to keep his hands occupied, helping him sit still for longer periods of time. During his first week in the city, he helped a woman who owns a flower shop catch a thief who threatened her at gunpoint and stole all the money from her register. Afterward, she’d talked to him about flower meanings and told him if he ever needed any flower help, to come straight to her.
So Kenji is going to get flowers, and he’s going to spend his weekend making flower crowns.
Thankfully, the shop isn’t far from the Agency dorms, so he’s able to find it easily. There are no other customers inside when he arrives, and the woman greets him warmly. He explains his dilemma, and she offers to help him pick out the perfect flowers for each of his friends.
He offers to exchange paper money for the flowers, but the woman insists he doesn’t need to pay for them. So he thanks her graciously and returns to the dorms.
Kunikida is still gone when Kenji gets back, which makes it easy for him to take the flowers into his room and begin the second part of the plan: actually making the flower crowns.
— —
It’s Monday, and Kenji is ready.
He managed to successfully hide both the flowers and his plan from Kunikida all weekend, keeping the surprise factor intact. (Granted, it’s possible Ranpo already figured out his plan, because Ranpo knows everything, but Kenji is okay with that.)
On Monday morning, he carefully places the flower crowns into a bag, then stalls so Kunikida is forced to leave without him. Kenji is ready to go on time, of course, but he wants Kunikida to be surprised with everyone else. Luckily, Kunikida hates being late more than he’s worried about Kenji walking to the office on his own, since the Agency isn’t far.
Kenji waits four minutes after Kunikida leaves, then grabs the flower crowns and sets off towards the Agency himself.
Surprisingly, everyone is already in the office when he arrives. Even Dazai is lazing at his desk, his coat draped over himself like a blanket.
“G’morning, Kenji-kun!” Ranpo greets brightly. “What’s in the bag?”
Kenji smiles brightly, as if unaware Ranpo already knows the answer to his question. “I brought thank-you gifts,” he announces. “You guys have all been really nice, and especially last week, you all helped me a lot. So…” he draws the first flower crown from the bag, which happens to be the one for Ranpo. “I wasn’t sure what you guys would like, but I got pretty good at making flower crowns back in the village, since it was a way for me to keep my hands busy.” He walks over to Ranpo’s desk and sets the crown down in front of him. “They all have hydrangeas and violets, because those flowers express gratitude. But the other flowers are specific for each of you! Ranpo-san, yours are yellow poppies for success and purple irises for wisdom and honor.”
Ranpo blinks down at the flower crown. “Oh,” he says, his smug smile slipping into something softer. “I— Um. …Thank you.”
Kenji grins. He pulls the next one from the bag.
“Yosano-sensei, yours has jasmine for gracefulness and plum blossoms for vitality.”
“Jun’ichiro-san, yours has hibiscus, which symbolize gentleness, and honeysuckle, which symbolize generousness.”
“Dazai-san, yours are red poppies, which mean fun-loving, and peonies for bravery!”
“And finally, Kunikida-san! For you, I picked daffodils, because those mean respect, and pansies, which symbolize thoughtfulness.” Since Kunikida is seated, Kenji places the flower crown directly onto his head, then steps back and looks around the office.
Everyone looks happy, which is exactly what Kenji was hoping to accomplish. In his experience, flowers can go a long way when it comes to spreading joy.
“This is very sweet, Kenji-kun,” Yosano says, putting on her own flower crown. “Thank you.”
It’s followed by a chorus of heartfelt “thank you”s from the other ADA members, and something warm settles in the pit of Kenji’s stomach.
Moving to the city was scary, yes—it was probably the most terrifying thing Kenji has ever done. But he knows he has friends who will continue to help him through it. He has people he can turn to whenever he’s in need of help and people who will look out for him, offering help before he even realizes he needs it.
People in the city are nice, Kenji has decided, even if they show it differently than the people in his village. And the city isn’t so scary anymore either.