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"Ranpo?" Fukuzawa called while removing his shoes by the front door.; from there he could see that the boy was not hanging on the sofa in the living room, as he usually did in the afternoons, eating snacks and playing videogames. He was not in kitchen either, as the light was off and no sound came from inside. The bathroom could be a possibility, but he could see its open door from where he was standing, and, once again, no one was inside.
That only left the bedrooms -one being Fukuzawa's and one Ranpo's- which was unusual because the boy very rarely spent time there if not when sleeping. Ranpo was in that age where an afternoon nap seemed childish, so it was strange for him to take one; also, he slept until late morning and got to bed late at night, so most days the afternoons were his most active periods, which he spent endlessly chatting, playing or working with Fukuzawa on a case.
Fukuzawa knocked on the boy's door, always mindful of his privacy, but firm in the belief that the lack of a word to stop him was as good as a “please come in”.
The sight that greeted him was...surprising to say at least. Where the futon usually laid, in the center of the room, stood a giant pile of what very well seemed to be every blanket they owned, and…was that HIS futon? What was Ranpo doing?
The boy was not visible anywhere in the room and honestly Fukuzawa was getting antsy.
"Ranpo? Where are you?" He called again, a nervous edge to his voice, ready to check his own room.
Then he heard it, a flebile "under here!" coming from the monstrous pile -not only was it spring time, so this number of blankets was already unnecessary, but even in winter a pile of such proportions would be an overkill- Ranpo had to be cooking under there, how could he ever breath?
He moved to remove part of the layers, wanting to make sure Ranpo was okay, sure that the weight of such a contraption would not be indifferent on the young boy.
"No, no, no! Don't take them away! I need them!!"
That gave him pause. Hm. "Ranpo, is everything alright?"
"Yeah yeah just don't remove anything"
"I won't if you explain to me what is going on. How are breathing from under there?"
"There's a tube, duh" the boy moved it slightly, so fukuzawa could see the end of a cardboard tube peeking from the shorter side of the pile, probably near Ranpo's head.
"Is this some kind of game? Did you build a fort?" A game would be a somewhat acceptable explanation for all of this, but he thought Ranpo would be a bit too old for that kind of play. Yes, he was incredibly childish in some of his behaviors, but he had never played pretend in the months he spent with Fukuzawa... except, maybe that was because he didn't have anyone to do it with (the swordsman thought of a fort as a game you play with others...like most games actually; was Ranpo lonely?)
"Nooooooo" he sounded exasperated
"Then explain it to me" he sat down by the tube
"Ah...I just" Ranpo paused "I...wanted to be squished?"
"You... Wanted to be squished?"
"Don't laugh okay?!" He was getting agitated, small movements being projected through the pile.
"I'm not laughing, Ranpo" a smile was tugging at the corner of his lips, but it's not like the boy could see it "so you wanted to be 'squished', and to do that you stole all the blankets in the house. And my futon"
"Yeah sorry about that ... You can take it back before going to sleep I guess"
"How generous of you"
"Yeah I know right? Anyway I'm fine, this is fine, nothing to worry about, please don't remove my blankets"
"Are you planning to spend the rest of the day there? You'll need to come out to eat dinner" food was usually a good motivator for Ranpo
"Umm I'll see if I feel like it by then"
"Okay then, I'll come by later" he conceded
"Can you bring me some candies? I finished the ones I had"
He did just that, leaving the pack by the tube and then he watched as a small hand reached out from the covers to blindly grab at it with a muffled thanks.
With time he had learned to take each and every win when it comes to Ranpo. He was still unsure about what was going on, but as long as he wasn't in pain or in danger, he could wait some time to try and get better answers. In the mean time, he needed to prepare dinner, and it's not like he was against having some peace and quiet in the house, maybe he could to take some time for himself.
When dinner was ready, the table set, the laundry folded and the book he had been meaning to finish for weeks finally reached its end, he once again knocked on Ranpo's door and let himself in.
"Dinner's ready. Do you feel like coming out now?"
Movement caught his attention, and then a ruffled head got out of the covers, a pair of closed eyes peering at him. He was greeted with a small nod, before the boy struggled out of his cocoon
"Damn It was HOT in there. I'm gonna need a shower for sure. What are we eating? Is it sweet? I want sweet curry!! No wait I want a donut. And a mochi. Do we still have the sweet sauce you put on rice the other day? That was sooo good"
Despite protesting the high temperature he had to endure until that moment, from the top of the pile Ranpo took the heavy wool blanket Fukuzawa used through winter and put it on his shoulders like an oversized cape, before happily marching toward the dinner table.
He made for a cute picture, engrossed in his own conversation and looking like a child who just woke up from a nap, blanket creases on his face and messy haired. Fukuzawa gently ran his hand on the boy's head, combing it and softly hummed his assent to one thing or the other. Ranpo paused for a moment, before giving him a thousand watt smile, and then continued talking until they finished their meal.
Once their bowls were empty they repositioned on the couch; Ranpo was sitting somewhat closed than usual, but now he was occupied with his gaming console, although that didn't stop him from commenting out loud various things that passed through his overactive mind.
After the third page of his new book he read in vain, Fukuzawa realized he was too distracted, as having Ranpo near meant it was now the perfect time to try to get a straight answer out of him.
"So, Ranpo, about that...getting squished. Would you explain it better to me?"
"Uhm... I don't know how to say it better than that?”
“Do try please. What where you feeling?”
“It’s… I was getting itchy aaaaall over, like I was gonna vibrate out of my skin? And I thought, you know what would keep me all inside? A great weight! And it worked so like, I'm amazing right?"
This left the older man speechless for a moment; vibrating out of his skin? He wasn't familiar with the sensation, no. Also itchiness sounded like a physical, medical problem? Did he need to take Ranpo to a doctor? The boy seemed fine now though, and his skin did not have any blemishes or rashes. "Did this happen before?"
"Yeah sometimes as a kid, but recently not this bad" he pause his game "my parents used to make a blanket burrito with me inside and than they'd lay on me, one on each side. Ahhh that was good" He paused, kicking his feet in the air and slowly moving back and forth "after that I just waited for it to go away I guess. But it didn't feel good! And it got worse and worse each time, I really felt like exploding. And today you where out aaaall day and I couldn't come with, and the juice I like was finished at the store so I had to drink a different one, and there were a TON of people in the street and everyone kept getting too close and then I fell on the sidewalk because I saw this dude that had like a really strange looking mole he ought to get checked out by a doctor BUT he walked too fast and I lost him in the crowd and a girl pushed me with her giant purse" he took a deep breath a sighed "so I got home and was soo tired I felt like crying and I took all the covers and blankets aaand now we are here"
Fukuzawa looked at him intently, worried about finding signs of lasting distress, but was relieved to find none. This accurate retelling told him what he need to know:
1) it had happened already in the past, and most importantly, it could happen again;
2) it seemed a normal occurrence in the Ranpo household, which told him this was probably part of the characteristics the boy shared with his parents, one of the many that differentiated them from other people;
3) it seemed to be a coping mechanism for stress, and probably had something to do with seeking comfort: the weight would allow the release of oxytocin, working as a full body hug
4) while it seemed to work quite well, part of what his parents did was provide physical contact with their presence, which probably made the whole thing even more effective
He knew he wasn't the most physically affectionate man. He was very aware of his body and other people's bodies, but only in service to his fighting.
Since Ranpo came into his care, aside from that desperate hug in the warehouse, they had shared some simple touches, mostly initiated by Ranpo himself, as he was quite physical: he would tug Fukuzawa's sleeve to grab his attention or to walk around busy streets, he'd also lay his head on his shoulder when tired, or when travelling on public transport.
For his part, Fukuzawa would gently shake his shoulder to wake him up, comb his fingers through his hair when they were messy and pat him when giving him compliments. He knew kids needed physical affection to grow up healthy (all the books on parenting he read said so) but Ranpo was 14 already and that wasn't an age in which most kids looked for constant hugs and words of affection. Ranpo wasn't a typical kid though, and theirs wasn't a typical situation, so he could be wrong in his assessment.
"If it happens again and I'm not home, you are free to use whatever you need. But also, you need to put everything back after, which you are also going to do now" he stopped the protests by holding up a hand "if I'm home though, i'd like it if you told me. We could try doing what your parents did if you'd like, or we could find an alternative solution"
Ranpo was looking at him, eyes open and scrutinizing, looking for confirmation in his stance and expression; then he let go of the wool blanket, and threw himself in Fukuzawa's lap, his arms around the older's neck, burying his face against the soft kimono. This time, Fukuzawa only hesitated a moment before bringing his own arms around the boy, awkwardly patting his back a couple of times, but quite glad overall.
"I'll put away the blankets, but after can we stay on the sofa for some more time?" He asked after releasing the man from his hold
"Yeah. C'mon, I'll help you with them"
Afterward, Ranpo draped the wool blanket around his shoulders again and then lay down with his head pillowed on fukuzawa's lap; he unpaused his game and went back to playing, so the other went back to his book.
A hand -his right hand, that had wielded a sword for years, calloused and stained by the blood of thousand of opponents, that same hand- now gently carded through wispy hair, a simple act of kindness in a life of endless sorrows.
-----
While Ranpo himself was rather unique, his needs weren’t, a small thing Fukuzawa needed to remind himself of when desperately looking for a solution to a Ranpo-generated parenting problem. Which is why he found himself asking a rather bewildered teen for help with using a computer, so that he could look up ‘heavy-blankets-to-stop-vibrating’.
The search results informed him of the existence of weighted blankets, which is how he ended up spending a good amount of money on a blanked that wouldn’t even keep Ranpo warm. That was all fine.
He would have spent a million more to have his boy happy.