Chapter Text
Dazai had grown bolder the longer they stayed with Fukuzawa. They had been staying with Fukuzawa for nearly five years. He was no longer the painfully withdrawn seven year old. Now nearly thirteen, Dazai was much more comfortable in his surroundings. Fukuzawa’s silent steadfastness and Ranpo’s energetic childishness had allowed Dazai to be more open.
Dazai was proud that he was finally gaining height on Ranpo who had stopped growing almost two years ago. Ranpo, as all nineteen year olds do, despised the possible fact that his little brother was passing him up in height.
While Dazai had become more comfortable with who and where he was, Ranpo’s detective business had flourished. The sheer volume of cases that he had single handedly solved was terrifying. The business had grown so much that it now had a permanent location as well as several other full time staff members. Despite still being a kid, Dazai almost always tagged along with his brother on cases. Fukuzawa would grimace, but so long as neither of his sons was in danger, he allowed Dazai to go.
As for Fukuzawa, he loved his little family fiercely. There was little doubt that Ranpo and Dazai were the center of his world. Thanks to Fukuzawa’s handiwork, the Port Mafia hadn’t intentionally ever hurt either Ranpo or Dazai. That being said, Fukuzawa was still wary about letting either of his sons (Dazai in particular) near Port Mafia territory.
Dazai suspected that this was the reason that Fukuzawa was refusing to let him go on the case today.
“But I want to come,” Dazai whined.
Fukuzawa looked over at the young teenager who was currently flopped upside down over the back of the couch.
“No, Dazai. You will be staying home for this one,” Fukuzawa’s tone broke no argument.
It was rare that the older man would command Dazai to stay home like this.
Dazai pouted. It had no effect.
He turned his attention to Ranpo.
“Please, please, please,” he whined to his brother.
Ranpo shook his head. This surprised Dazai even more. Ranpo frequently caved to Dazai’s whining.
“No, Dad is right,” Ranpo sighed, “I know you want to come, but it will be safe for you if you stay.”
Dazai found that assessment to be unfair and cruel. Why, just a few weeks ago he had helped Ranpo out tremendously in a case involving a gifted bank robber.
“But it’s boooring at home,” Dazai complained.
“Tough luck, kiddo,” Ranpo ruffled Dazai’ messy hair.
Dazai’s efforts proved fruitless for the rest of the day. He was tempted to follow them, but the last time he had done that, Fukuzawa had looked very disappointed. In the aftermath, Dazai had felt so guilty that he hid in his room for a solid week.
Fukuzawa and Ranpo left in the late afternoon. It took longer than they were supposed to. As evening turned into night, Dazai’s brain began helpfully supplying a long list of possible scenarios. Dazai was just about to set out to find the rest of his little family when they appeared at the doorway.
“What took you so long? I thought…” Dazai trailed off as he spotted something unusual.
In Fukuzawa’s arms was cradled a sleeping girl. She looked to be not much younger than Ranpo. Late teens, maybe? Dazai could see that she was little more than skin and bones.
“Who’s that?” Dazai eyed the newcomer warily.
“This is Yosano,” Fukuzawa gently set her down on the couch, “She’ll be staying with us for the meantime.”
Dazai gave the girl another scrutinizing look. Something was off about her, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was.
“Why?”
“Because Master Natsume asked me. Now, behave yourself and don’t overwhelm her or try to run her off,” Fukuzawa gave his youngest a stern glance.
“I would never dream of doing something like that,” Dazai said as innocently as he could.
He yelped when Ranpo dropped an ice cube down the back of his shirt.