Chapter Text
The black-haired woman takes a sip of her tea that Yosano had made for her, and looks down at her long skirt, before looking back up towards Kunikida. She takes another deep breath, the fourth one since arriving at the detective agency. She shifts in her seat, and finally opens her mouth and begins to speak about the reason she is there.
“I’ve heard things- rumors. About people with special abilities.” She says, almost in a whisper. Kunikida nods as he listens intently and tries not to scare her with his stare. He lets her continue. Her eyes flicker over to a random corner in the room before they land back at her tea.
“I used to work at an orphanage. It’s a few cities over. Not that good a place.” She admits. Her fingers fidget with the handle of the teacup.
“Theres a child there- well- he's not a child anymore, he’s eighteen now.” She starts to mumble, her voice grows quieter as she says a few more words that are intelligible to the agency.
Dazai, beside Kunikida, with his hands in his pockets, very loudly clears his throat, startling the young woman out of her oncoming spiral. She takes another sip of her tea.
Dazai cannot help but to notice every detail about her. Her hair would be in a perfect bun if it weren't for the strands that shot out here and there, frazzled, unkempt some would say. There was an ever so slight tremble to her hands as she stood placed the tea back down. She was in a rush; she needed to tell the agency whatever information that she had, but she was nervous, but about what? That’s the real case.
“Please, continue.” He says, “the boy?”
“Yes. He’s been at the orphanage since his birth, I presume. But-” she pauses. The woman looks over at the liquid inside her cup, her eyes widen just a bit, and her lips tremble at the words.
“He’s a monster.” She whispers it like a curse. Eyes widen across the agency, from the nosey detectives, listening in. Kunikida’s expression steels and he leans forward.
“Would you please elaborate?”
“They found out when he was younger. Before I joined. He’s some kind of- he can turn into a giant white tiger on full moons. He’s destroyed our gardens, our coops. He’s ransacked the pantries. It was a genuine miracle he never went after the workers or the kids.” She breathes. Everyone in the agency who had at least been trying to hide their curiosity now stares with wide eyes, waiting for her to finish her story.
“The headmaster locked him away, in the basement. He's been chained who knows how long now.” The woman gulps and reaches down to take a sip of her tea.
“And pray tell,” Dazai starts, that lazy smile on his face that hides his true intellect, “why are you only coming to us about this now?” The tiniest bead of sweat falls from the woman’s forehead and slides down the side of her face. Her face scrunches into one of anger before it dissipates, and like a balloon her face deflates.
“Look, I’ve worked there for 7 years. I’ve seen the boy being beaten, starved, drowned, chained, and more. I know I’m an enabler. But I thought the headmaster would kick him out once he reached eighteen.” She looks towards Dazai, and her eyes are wide and frantic, and most of all filled with guilt.
“I let it happen,” her voice wavers and grows in volume, angry yet sad, “I told him to tough it out. I looked him in the eye and I said ‘You’ll be fine, so suck it up. Just do as you’re told and you’ll be out of it soon.’” She turns to Kunikida, her tone distraught,
“And damnit I feel guilty! I feel bad for the monster, sue me. I told him he’d be out by eighteen and he’s still there. So just-” she stops mid-tirade and looks down. Her fists clench her skirt and those close enough can see the tears drip from her eyes to her skirt.
“I don't care how you feel about me, If you think I’m an awful person. Just help him.” She sounds defeated.
The agency is silent. They stare at the woman, and at each other, before Dazai makes the first move. He walks up to the woman, slow as not to startle her. She is fragile.
“What’s your name, Miss?” He says, bending on one knee to match the height of the black-haired woman sitting in the chair. She blinks and rubs the tears yet to fall out of her eyes.
“Himari Sato.” She sniffs.
“Well, Miss Sato,” Dazai lightly grabs her hand in his, “how could I resist the tears of such an exquisite woman. Tell me, what is the name of the boy we are looking for.” The woman smiles for the first time since arriving at the agency.
“His name is Atsushi. Atsushi Nakajima.”
Kunikida writes the name in his notebook and stands. Before he can thank the woman, Dazai opens his own mouth.
“Now I have one more question for you.” Kunikida stares, confused. What other questions could there be to ask at the moment?
“How would you feel about committing a double suicide with me.” He smirks. The woman’s eyes widen and Kunikida slaps Dazai in the head with his notebook before dragging the suicidal maniac away.
“Excuse this idiot, Yosano will see you out, and we will be in contact, have a lovely day.”
The woman bows and lets Yosano take the tea from her hands.
“Right this way.” Yosano tells her. The two women head out the door. Kunikida stares at the name in his notebook and the nosey detectives all go back to whatever work they were doing, their excitement for the day having left with Himari. All except for Ranpo, that is, who looks with curious eyes at Kunikida’s stern gaze.
“So, when are we leaving?” He snickers, wiggling his way into Kunikida’s line of sight. The blond looks up from his notebook, and at the smaller yet older detective in front of him.
“We?”
“I’ve no other cases, Kunikida! I’m bored.” He smiles.
“Dazai, we know for sure is coming. If this ability is as monstrous as Miss Sato voiced, we should bring the nullifier.”
“Well, you know what they say, Kunikida. The more the merrier!” Dazai intervenes, positioning himself in a nearby empty chair. He places his feet on the desk.
“And three’s a crowd.” Kunikida grunts.
“Haven’t you heard the rest of that saying?” Kunikida raises his eyebrow, skeptical.
“You know how they say curiosity killed the cat, but knowledge brought it back, It’s the same thing! Three’s a crowd unless they bring cake.”
“You’re lying. I’ve never heard it.”
“It’s true! Write it down, it started with the French during their revolution!” Kunikida’s eyes widen as he flips to another page in his notebook. He begins to write the phrase, whilst saying it aloud. When he’s almost done with the sentence, Dazai’s relaxed face shifts into a smug smile.
“Just kidding.” The sound of the pen breaking is heard throughout the entire agency. Dazai sticks his tongue out, giggling as Kunikida grabs his coat and shakes the man back and forth in his seat, yelling profanities at the man.
“So all I hear is I’m coming with.” Ranpo places his hands on the back of his head and leans back, smiling. He can already tell, this case will be life-altering.