What no word can describe

Valentine’s Day. Usually, Ranpo would not give a flying damn about that stupid event, and simply wait for the next day for things to come back to normal.
However, this year, things are different. This year, the very mention of Valentine’s Day is setting him on edge.
And as much as a great detective he is, he doesn’t know what to do about it.

Notes:

Four days late? Heh, that could have been worse (she says, as she tries to not cry about how bad she is at keeping a deadline)
Anyways, happy late Valentine's Day, folks :)

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

It was that time of the year again.

There was no need to go in town and see the heart-shaped items, the flowers and the ribbons displaying all shades of pink and red in every display window of every store to guess what date it was. Watching the TV and its sentimental programs, or listening to the radio and its no less sentimental castings was not necessary, either. All you had to do was meeting other people. Watching other people. Witnessing how, around a week before the event up to D-day, their behavior would significantly change. Some would suddenly roam around every jeweler store to ogle at rings, necklaces, or expensive watches – the hunger in their eyes strangely proportional to the number of diamonds on the accessory. Others would spend so much time choosing perfume or flowers they’d reek of a weird scent mixture by the end of the day. Then there were other people who would check on their phone frantically, letting out either a frivolous giggle or a soul-splitting sigh every so often. Seen from the outside, it was like a sudden epidemic – the kind that infected the brain to make it all mushy. Not that the regular people made good use of their brain on the daily anyway; but still, it was a rather pathetic sight.

Valentine’s Day. Usually, Ranpo would not give a flying damn about that so-called event that was no use to man nor beast – at least, the beasts had the intelligence to not try to find any use to it. If you asked him, having to wait for a specific day to please your partner or any person you loved was dumb, to say the least. But hey, would he then think, this wasn’t humanity’s worst absurdity. All he had to do was patiently wait for the next day, and everything would go back to normal as if the epidemic had never happened.

Yes, that was what he would usually think.

However, this year, things were different. This year, the very mention of Valentine’s Day was setting him on edge. This year, watching the epidemic unfold before his eyes evoked something in him. Every couple he saw, every person longing for their loved one he heard, forced his normally sharp mind to only think of one specific person, blurring all the rest.

He hated it. He was scared of it.

Because as much as a great detective he was, he didn’t know what to do about it.

“Whatcha got here Atsushi?”

The boy almost jumped to the ceiling when hearing Dazai’s sickly sweet voice – you could almost see his hair bristling like the fur of a scared cat. Waving his arms like a puppet out of joint, Atsushi tried to catch the tickets he was holding and which had slipped out of his hands. As quick as a snake, Dazai caught them mid-air.

“Ah! Hum, that’s, uh…” Atsushi stammered, red as beetroot.

“Oooh? Tickets for a concert? On Valentine’s day? And who exactly do you intend to give these to?” Suddenly, the malicious sparkle in Dazai’s eyes faltered, replace by sheer bewilderment. “… Hold on. Hard rock?”

Taking advantage of his mentor’s sudden daze, Atsushi snatched the tickets back. “P-Please do not get any ideas!! I-I was j-just…”

“… Atsushi.”

“Y-yes?”

Dazai’s face was blank. Unreadable. Then, slowly, his lips stretched into a weird grimace, too eerie to be called a grin. When he put a hand on the boy’s shoulder, the latter broke into a cold sweat.

“Good luck for tonight.”

“Wha– Wait, what’s that supposed to mean?!”

Dazai didn’t have the opportunity to reply, as a sudden hit on the back of his skull made him bend his neck in a weird angle – though not that weird for that disjointed beanpole.

“Leave the kid alone, Dazai, and go do your work for once.”

“Kunikiii-daaa~ Happy Valentine’s Day!” Dazai chimed, putting his neck bones back into place as he spun around to greet the blonde man. “I heard you were looking for something special? Something sparkling, maybe?”

Despite trying to keep on a straight face, Kunikida’s brow twitched nervously. “Where did you– Ah, nevermind. That is none of your business, and as it stands, now is not the time for frivolities.” Taking out his beloved agenda, the blonde straightened his glasses on his nose. “You are three days late from sending me the report for your latest case…”

“Ugh, who cares? Today is the day when frivolities are allowed, Kunikida~”

Slouched in his chair with his feet on the desk, the newspapers in one hand and a bag of potato chips in the other, Ranpo was silently observing his colleagues, with as much interest as if he was looking at monkeys in a zoo.

Irritation bubbled in his veins like acid. At this rate, the atmosphere in the whole open space would become so syrupy he’d be too disgusted to keep nibling on his snacks. How could a single date on a calendar make people dumber than they already were? The subject definitely needed to be studied at this point. But not by him. No point in using his Super-Deduction for such lame idiocies.

“Aren’t they adorable, getting all restless like this?”

Her hands full with a thick portfolio and other folders, Yosano stopped by Ranpo’s side to gaze at their colleagues with amusement – and perhaps a hint of fondness, too.

The raven-haired detective scoffed. “You call this adorable? I call this stupid. And pathetic.”

Yosano gave him a perplexed glance as she put her load on the corner of his desk. Had it been anyone else, Ranpo would have thrown a tantrum for invasion of personal space. But not with her. She was one of the (very) few people allowed to make use of his belongings as pleased.

“What’s with the rudeness?” Yosano asked him while filing away the folders into the shelf on her right. “It’s the same thing every year. Until now, you were pretty chill with it.”

Ranpo scowled. Of course, he’d have to justify his sudden hate for Valentine’s. That was on him for not being able to be subtle when he didn’t like something. Now, if he had been asked by anyone other than Yosano, he’d probably have just eluded the question or simply ignored it. But it was Yosano; so, he answered her without even thinking about it.

“I had enough, I guess. Every year this stupid day becomes more and more stupid to me. And every year I’m surrounded by more and more people who get stupider than they already are just because of a date on a calendar.”

“Well, that was bound to happen. All our latest recruits are young enough to be concerned by these sorts of things.”

“What sort of things?” Ranpo dug once more into his chips bag, only to find it empty. With an angry gesture, he crumpled the thing into a ball, tossed it toward the bin, and grumbled when it missed the three-points scoring zone. “Going to a concert without knowing a damn thing about their lover’s taste in music? Getting fooled by every crook around the city to buy so-called ‘most dazzling jewels’, because ‘what if she does find them dazzling?’? Receiving so many different flowers they won’t notice at least one of the species is poisonous?”

A brief laughter escaped Yosano. “I take it these are your prognostics for our friends’ evening?”

Her reaction was like a refreshing rain pouring down on a smoldering land, quelling his irritation. When Ranpo unwrapped a lollipop and stuck it in his mouth, the small smile curling his lips was only half due to the sweetness diffused on his tongue.

One of the folders was so crammed it took a few attempts before Yosano managed to slide it between two other folders on the shelf. Once the thing gave in and went where instructed, the doctor let out a sigh of relief.

“Hmm, a poisonous flower, you say?” she muttered, her gaze lost in the void. A bat of her long eyelashes later, her magenta eyes were focused again, this time on him. “Are you sure about it?”

Ranpo gave an offended frown. “C’mon, you really have to ask?”

“It’s a serious matter. I prefer being sure.”

“Mmh. Fair enough.”

Lounging back in his chair, arms crossed behind his head, Ranpo put on his glasses and let a few seconds go by. Though it had been months since he had accepted the fact his ‘Super-Deduction’ wasn’t a supernatural skill, using his glasses when performing deductions had remained a reflex anchored in every fiber of his being.

“Naomi is planning to literally smother her dear brother with various kind of flowers,” he declared. “She’ll also decorate their room with them, probably up to the bed. Of course, she’ll go for the flashiest ones.”

“I’m not going to ask what she even intends to do by putting flowers everywhere in their room, all the more up to the bed…” Yosano muttered, face twisting in an awkward expression.

“And I’m not going to push my Super-Deduction up to that point, either,” Ranpo added, exchanging a knowing smile with her. “Anyway, if the matter upsets you, I suggest you go to the Hanada florist.”

“The one by the station?”

“That one. Naomi has already ordered the flowers, but the florist will help you know what species she bought. That should be enough for you.”

“Mmh. Gotcha. That said, if it’s regular flowers you can find at every florist, Tanizaki probably won’t have more than a few skin lesions, maybe nettle rash or eczema… Nothing he can’t endure.”

Even though she had said that in a detached tone, Ranpo caught her scribbling the name of the florist on a loose paper. He held back a chuckle; it was actually adorable how she would always play the cruel doctor not bothering to see anything that wasn’t a lethal wound as something worth her time, when she was actually too kind to sincerely mean it. Of course, he was very careful to not make any comment about it.

However, there was another way to make fun of it.

“You know what, since you don’t believe me, let’s make a bet. If I am right, you’ll have to get me chocolate. One box per sibling.”

A mischievous smirk curled the doctor’s lips. “I see despising Valentine’s is not enough to stop you from challenging me with those bets.”

“What are you complaining about? I thought you liked betting.”

“Mmh, I sure do.”

She put a finger on her chin, as if considering accepting the bet or not – an act, obviously. She always accepted.

“One box per sibling, though? How nasty of you. Isn’t the usual deal one box per good guess, regardless of the number of persons involved?”

“Oh? What’s wrong, Yosano? Scared of losing?” Ranpo teased her.

“More like scared for your liver if you end up being right about everyone,” Yosano replied in a no less teasing tone.

Ranpo merely shrugged. “Well, look at the bright side. There was a time when we used to do the same bet about the couples at the restaurant. That was a whole lot more people, then. Which is to say, a whole lot more wins for me, yet my liver never complained.”

“Oh, right. I remember that.” A wistful smile graced Yosano’s features. “We used to pretend we were dating to get the discounts in the stores, the cinemas, or the restaurants. And when we went for the latter, you would always guess which couples in the restaurant would last further than Valentine’s or not.”

“And then we’d get thrown out by the owner.”

“Because you’d blurt out your guesses aloud and create a mess!”

“As if you wouldn’t add to said mess by starting fights with whoever wanted to silence me!”

They both laughed at the memory. For a fleeting moment, it felt like it was just the two of them in this big open space, as it was a dozen years ago, when they were the only members of the agency. Ranpo let his laugh subside while the thought settled in his throat, squeezing it lightly.

“Damn, we were quite a troublesome duo, weren’t we?” Yosano mused.

“Why are you using the past tense?”

The end of his reply was muffled as Ranpo swiftly clasped the lollipop between his teeth, freeing his hands in time to lift his newspaper like a shield. The crumpled ball of paper thrown at him – the very one he had tried to bin a moment ago, and which Yosano had picked up while they were both busy remembering the past – bounced on it harmlessly.

“What? I was just correcting you!”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Don’t ‘yeah, yeah’ me, c’mon.”

Yosano rolled her eyes, failing to hold back the smile tugging at the corner of her lips. She went to pick up the crumpled paper again, when a familiar bandaged hand beat her to it.

“Well, well, look at you two.” Dazai jungled skillfully with the paper ball, an amused look on his face. “Sometimes it’s hard to believe you’re the seniors of our little group.”

He stuck his tongue out as he targeted the bin, tossed the ball, and made a perfect score. Ranpo kept a deadpan face, but deep down he felt his pride getting a bit of bashing. If he hadn’t been so on edge, he would have scored too, earlier…

“Oh, hey, Dazai,” Yosano greeted their junior. “Are you done tormenting that poor Atsushi yet?”

The brunette’s shoulders slumped theatrically. “Why is everybody so mean to me? I do not always torment Atsushi – and as it happens, I was actually helping him, this time!”

“This time, huh?”

Dazai ignored the remark.

“By helping, you mean switching his places for a hard-rock concert for classical ones?” Ranpo inquired nonchalantly.

Humming light-heartedly, Dazai gave his senior an impish wink. “Oh, trust me, the person he wants to gift those concert places doesn’t have the music tastes his general appearance suggests.”

“I trust you on that.” Ranpo’s gaze when he looked at Dazai was as deep as the one of an all-knowing sage. “But don’t forget he’s got someone else to please.”

Dazai tilted his head to the side.

“You mean Lucy? I assumed the tickets in his other pocket were for her.”

“Nope. It’s the other way around.”

Ranpo gestured the same way a teacher would do while demonstrating a theorem to their students, his lollipop between his fingers acting like the chalk stick, without the board.

“The tickets for the hard-rock concert are meant for Lucy. Atsushi initially bought tickets for a concert of country. Sadly for him, country music is not her taste, so she threw the book at him – or should I say she threw a coffeepot at him… he reeks of coffee though he usually never drinks any before midday. Anyway, he managed to get new ones accordingly to what she suggested him.”

“Oh, so that’s why he was so nervous when asking me about Lucy’s taste in music…” Yosano chuckled under her breath. “I knew there was something going on, but to think it was that…”

“And since it was too late to exchange the tickets or get a refund,” Dazai completed, “Atsushi was left with the country concert tickets… which he’ll intend to give to Akuta– pffrt…!!”

He guffawed.

“Oh my gosh. Today is bound to become eventful. Thank you for the intel, Ranpo. I think we’re going to have great fun, tonight.”

The latter merely nodded. As far as he was concerned, he put the truth to light like as a great detective should, no more, no less. The rest wasn’t his business. That said, he couldn't help but be amused by his junior's enjoyment for the chaos he sowed - by accident, for once. Perhaps Ranpo would even ask him about how Atsushi's evening ended. Knowing the guy, he'd find a way to record some juicy embarrassing videos. With luck, it could help ease his resent for the damn celebration...

Meanwhile, having witnessed the whole exchange with as much attention as a spectator in the front row of a theatre, Yosano blew a faint whistle.

“Wow, that was another level of gossip right there.”

Ranpo tilted his head in her direction. “What do you mean? It’s not any different from the predictions I do when betting with you, y’know.”

“Can’t tell,” she replied, amused. “I rarely discuss the gossip with you. I only bet on it.”

“Hey, since I somewhat made that one prediction a lil’ more spicy, will you share your chocolate reward with me, Ranpo~?”

If the latter didn’t offer any reaction, Yosano shot a lopsided glance at Dazai.

“Hold on, have you been spying on our conversation?”

“Of course, he has,” Ranpo said matter-of-factly. “That’s why he’s come to see us. We’re his next gossip material.”

Dazai gave a half-mischievous, half-apologetic smile. “Again, your observation skills are truly to be reckoned with, Ranpo. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, though. I just happened to hear you mentioning you two had some kind of Valentine’s… tradition, and I got curious.”

Body as still as a statue, eyes piercing as those of an eagle, Ranpo studied Dazai through narrowed eyelids. Like monochrome rays of a spectrum being added together to form a ray of white light, all the intel collected from the topic they were discussing, the timing when Dazai stepped in their conversation, the subtle expressions given away by his body, gathered together to shed light on the truth to the great detective. In this case, the truth in question was the beanpole’s scheme. In a heartbeat, Ranpo was able to unfold said scheme as clearly as if it was being written a scroll right under his eyes. His jaw tensed up ever-so-slightly.

The situation hadn’t started moving Ranpo already didn’t like where it was going.

“It’s not really a ‘tradition’,” Yosano told their junior, though seemingly amused by the term. “We did it two or three times in our younger years, for funsies.”

“Oh, I take it you’ve stopped?” Dazai seemed genuinely surprised. “May I ask why?”

“No time,” the duo answered in sync.

“I was too busy with exams and finals,” Yosano specified.

“And I got swamped with more and more job requests from all over the country,” Ranpo added.

“Basically, we had other priorities on our minds, and lost the spirit along the way,” the doctor concluded with a shrug.

Dazai crossed his arms, looking pensive. “I see. While understandable, that’s still a shame. You two share a bond like no other, it’d be a waste to let it collect dust…”

Suddenly, he clapped his hands as if struck by an epiphany.

“Oh, I know! Doctor Yosano, I believe it’s your turn to visit Ranpo at his house, this week, no? You could make use of that time to remember the past and have fun like during your old days.”

Despite having moved out to live on his own almost ten years ago, Ranpo was still very dependent on everything he labelled ‘boring’ or ‘tedious’ – which included almost every basic daily chore, like cooking or cleaning. As the years passed and the Agency grew bigger, a sort of routine had been set up between its members: each week, one of them would, in turns, come at Ranpo’s to do the cooking, the cleaning and so on three times a week.

“I have an even better idea.” Yosano leaned forward with one hand on the desk, the other on her hip. “You come with me tonight at Ranpo’s, and while he and I go have fun in town, you stay there to clean, do the laundry and prepare dinner.”

The brunette smirked wryly. “That’s on me. I made a rod for my own back with this one.”

Dazai was one of the very few members not included in the ‘Ranpo’s-caretaker-roll’, as some would often call it. Which wasn’t very surprising for someone used to flee every one of his duties on a daily basis. But in that specific case, Kunikida didn’t even have the opportunity to try and get the oaf in the gearing, as Ranpo himself had stated it suited him very well. If he had to draw up a list of the people allowed to mind his business, Dazai would be at the far bottom. While he did care for his junior like he cared for every other member of the Agency, the very idea of that uncanny guy approaching his turf gave him the creeps.

In a similar way, seeing him sticking his nose in his conversation with Yosano – all the more about personal stuff – irked him to no end. Especially knowing where he wanted to bring the conversation…

While his friends kept on chatting, the great detective kept on racking his brain to find a way out of this situation – to no avail, alas.

“Jokes aside, we could indeed go out in town tonight.” Unaware of his distress, Yosano gently poked Ranpo’s shoulder. “How do you feel about it? Seeing how Valentine’s getting under your skin this year, I’d rather spare you the sight of the windows and restaurants only swearing by it…”

“Oh~? Do you not like Valentine’s Day, Ranpo?”

The sweet cherry flavor in Ranpo’s mouth suddenly turned bitter. Oh boy. I’m doomed. The situation had reached a point of no coming back.

“I don’t know why, but this year he seems to be sick by the very mention of it,” Yosano answered on his behalf.

“Hm-hmm…”

Ranpo cringed internally. His almond-shaped eyes creased, thin like two slits, as he glared at Dazai. Don’t you dare.

“I may have a theory about that.” Dazai’s dark brown eyes glimmered while holding Ranpo’s stern look.

“Oh yeah?” Yosano folded her arms. “Care to elaborate?”

“My modest experience about Valentine’s Day told me that the ones who suddenly despise it though they had no business with it until then are, most often, those who finally fell for someone but can’t bring themselves to confess their feelings – for various reasons, of course.”

Jaw working, Ranpo closed his eyes and breathed though his nostrils as slowly as he could to allay the storm brewing in his chest. Damn it.

“Wait. You mean to tell me that our great detective has a crush on someone?”

“Most likely~”

Ranpo crunched the last remains of his lollipop and swallowed with as much difficulty as if it was thistles. It had a taste of defeat.

Being the great detective he was, he had known Dazai knew about his feelings, probably ever since they started budding. He also had no doubt his junior knew the identity of the one tugging at the strings of his heart. But because Dazai was Dazai, it was clear as day he would certainly not just pop up and let the cat out of the bag just like that. No, that guy was too twisted to not choose the other option: play the guesser, tease him about it, dropping hints to set his colleagues’ tongues wagging, and so on. And obviously, on no other day than Valentine’s, the lovers’ day.

This was also one of the many reasons why Ranpo had welcomed this year’s 14th of February with a very bad mood. Everything he would say or do during those twenty-four hours could give birth to endless chatter about him and his supposed crush. The worst part about it was of course that no one – except Dazai – would be smart enough to guess it right, and in the end, they would only end up with even more nonsense to spit that their corny minds already had in store.

Sadly, denying it would only result in more embarrassment from his end. Ranpo’s pride would definitely never allow Dazai to get such a victory. So, there was no other choice than to, if not grin, at least bear it until the kid was done with his teasing.

However, things took a turn Ranpo didn’t – or maybe didn’t dare – expect.

“Well, ain’t that cute.” Yosano’s tone was wry. “Are you sure you’re not mistaking it for his familial love for Fukuzawa or his own ego, though?”

“No, no, no!” Dazai chanted. “It’s pure, romantic feelings for someone else. Right, Ranpo?”

The only reaction Ranpo offered was a frown wrinkling his forehead. All he had to do was to ignore them. Ignore the fire burning the top of his ears. Ignore the lead stone blocked in his throat.

“Aww, look, he’s pretending to sleep.” Oh, if only he could sleep on command like that. That would spare him the sensation of her hand ruffling his hair. That would spare him the feeling it evoked in his chest. “Looks like you’re right.”

Yes, he is. Just get over with it and leave me alone. Why did she have to make fun of the situation, too?

He felt another poke on his shoulder, this time less gentle. “Hey, Sleeping Beauty, did you tell Fukuzawa about it? I bet he’ll be thrilled to receive the news.”

Ranpo’s frown deepened as a groan escaped from between his gritted teeth.

“Heh-heh-heh! That’s so exciting, don’t you think, Doctor Yosano? I wonder who is that person soooo amazing they’ve managed to get through our great detective’s heart~”

You perfectly know who it is, so stop babbling.

“I bet you know who it is, smartass.”

Ranpo’s eyes snapped open. The fear of her asking him to spill the beans surged through his veins like electricity.

At the very same moment, all irony gone from her voice, Yosano added, “And if you do, I suggest you don’t reveal it. Let alone in front of him. He’ll never forgive you if you do it.”

When she tilted her head to look at him and their eyes met, the world around them started to blur. Ranpo stared idly at her, breath cut short, his chest crushed by a mix of relief, gratitude, and… something else. Something stronger. Something he couldn’t name.

Dazai watched their silent eye contact like the spectator he was. His expression softened into a fond, genuine smile.

“I guess you’re right.” However, mischief quickly came back on his face. “Still, don’t you want some hints?”

Yosano didn’t reply.

“Dazai.” Ranpo’s voice was as cold as the winter wind. “That’s enough.”

“Sorry, Ranpo. I’m just thinking Doctor Yosano could help you with those feelings, if you have a hard time expressing them. Not to mention, it’s about someone you’ve known for a long time, rig–”

“I SAID ENOUGH!!

Ranpo stood up and slammed his hands on the desk. His shout echoed in the suddenly silent open space. Everyone’s gaze was turned towards the commotion. For a stretching second, no soul dared to do so much as breathe.

Clenching his hurting palms into fists, Ranpo finally met Dazai and Yosano’s stunned gaze. His hazel eyes were blazing with fury.

“That is my business,” he hissed. “Mind your own and leave me be!!”

Without waiting for an answer, he took his hat and rushed out of the room, the other members quickly stepping aside to escape the tornado he had become. Ranpo had climbed down the first block of stairs when a voice called out to him.

“Ranpo, wait!”

If it had been anyone else, he would have ignored the call and just kept going. But it was her voice; and it had enough grip on his heart to put him to a stop.

He heard her heavy breathing from the other end of the corridor. She must have run to catch him up.

“Buzz off,” he muttered. His voice, though low, resonated between the corridor’s walls. “Go back playing the guesser with Dazai and leave me alone.”

“Ranpo, come on.” A sigh. “You don’t have to get riled up because of his stupid teasing. I know you hate having your feelings exposed like that, but…”

She stopped there. Silence progressively fell on the corridor, the end of her reply growing more distant as the seconds ticked by.

Ranpo gritted his teeth. His brain was fuzzing with every line he could have replied with. He could have told her to leave him alone. He could have told her she didn’t have to apologize.

He could have told her the truth. He wanted to tell her the truth.

“…”

Stuffing his fists into his pockets, Ranpo walked away without looking back.

The corridor remained silent.

*~*~*

A pleasant warmth welcomed Yosano once she slammed the door of her apartment shut. Letting her bags slide down her arms, she stayed with her back against the door for a few seconds and took deep breaths. Her head was hurting like a curtain rail had been speared through her skull, the curtain falling on her eyes to blur her vision.

What a hectic day it was.

Sometime around midday, the agency received a call from the police asking them to help dealing with a bomb alert at the station – which turned out to be a fake one, made by some dumbass teen who wanted to impress his girlfriend for Valentine’s. Fortunately, Kunikida had come with her and didn’t waste time to scold the thug the professorial way. Had Yosano been alone or with someone with not enough guts to hold her back, she would have used rather… more drastic methods.

Then after that, she remembered her conversation with Ranpo about the Tanizaki siblings, and stopped by the florist near the station to get inquire about the flowers bought by Naomi. Once she got back to the agency, she called out Jun’Ichiro and gave him a prescription for various skin lesion treatment. Without bothering to explain her move to her dumbfounded junior, she went to the Uzumaki café to get a refuel in caffeine. There, she had to play the confidant with Lucy – who was ranting about Atsushi, for a change – and, to her surprise, Kenji. For some reason, seeing Kenji starting to ask questions related to love and feelings – it was still blabbering ones, but the idea was budding – made her feel incredibly old. Probably a side-effect of mothering that boy ever since he came to the agency.

After leaving the café, Yosano had pondered over going in town for groceries. The sky had been growing darker with stormy clouds, bringing an icy wind frigid enough to freeze you to the bone in a single breeze? That was nothing much – she had gone under way worse weather. Her legs were still aching after the chase in the station? Oh, please. She wasn’t made of glass. Going to town meant having to suffer the now sickening view of various Valentine’s Day related things around every corner of every street?

… On second thought, going home had sounded like a far better option.

A sigh escaped Yosano. She almost regretted to have mocked Ranpo’s sudden displeasure with this damn celebration. Now she understood how nerve-racking this day could get.

And you know there’s another reason why it’s getting under your skin, a little voice in her head whispered.

“…”

Throwing her keys in their dedicated compartment, Yosano took off her coat and her heels. She dusted the fine layer of fine hail that had piled up on the coat’s arms and shoulders. The hail had subsided by the time she had gone home, but the sky had remained dark all day long. Maybe winter itself had had enough of the lovers’ day and decided spring could wait a few days more to take its place.

Without bothering putting on slippers, Yosano made a beeline to the bathroom. Nothing like a hot shower to allay bad headaches.

Once under the curtain of hot water, Yosano massaged her sore neck and shoulders. Then, putting her head under the flow, she closed her eyes and imagined that all her tensions, all her bad tempers were like dirt specks and impurities getting carried away with the current, gliding along her skin down to the siphon. A little trick a friend of hers – a former psychology student – once taught her to help her relax whenever she was on edge after a bad or stressful day.

If she was honest, her day hadn’t been that bad. However, her mood definitely hadn’t been – and still wasn’t – at its best throughout it.

“People who suddenly despise Valentine’s are often those who can’t bring themselves to confess their feelings to the one they love.”

“…”

Yosano turned off the water. Her hand still on the tap, she abstractedly watched the droplets falling from her hair and body down into the thin puddle surrounding the siphon.

A sigh echoed between the tiled walls of the bathroom. It was her sigh.

“You know, I hate when you’re right, Dazai…”

Her soaked body shivered under the cold and humid air. Snapping out of her daze, she got out of the shower, grabbed a towel to wrap herself in, and dried her hair sloppily. Then she went to her bedroom to throw in some pajamas, careful to avoid looking at her bed. She wasn’t certain she would resist the call of her bedsheets if she were to lay her eyes on them.

With as much liveliness as a robot, Yosano trudged to her kitchen. Her mind seemed to have left her body, putting it on auto mode while it unwound the reel playing her memories like one of these old projectors you could find in cinemas back then.

Looking back, her story with Ranpo had all the clichés you could ask for. The young and arrogant hero saving the damsel in distress and giving her a reason to live. The damsel eventually falling for the hero over the years. You’d be hard to be more cliché than that. All that was missing was the typical ‘and-they-lived-happily-ever-after’ ending.

And if she dared be honest with herself, Yosano would not actually mind if their story were to take such a turn. As ridiculous as it sounded.

When exactly had it started? She couldn’t tell for sure. But one day, after she managed to overcome her trauma enough to finally get on with life, she realized that every moment they shared started to feel different. Was it because they became rarer, with her getting invested in her studies and him getting busier the more his reputation as a detective was expanding all around Japan? Or was it because, despite the distance life naturally tried to put between them, he would never neglect their bond, maintaining little attentions every chance he got?

It’s not like he could ever lose her friendship or that he had to do anything to preserve it; as the one who helped her during her darkest times, he would always have a special place in her heart. She knew that he knew it. And after so much time spent by his side, she was certain all those little tokens of caring were done only because he felt like it. Because Ranpo was someone who loved to please his loved ones – Fukuzawa being the best example of it.

Whether those little attentions he gave her over the years were platonic or hid something more, Yosano had various occasions to mull over it, during her late teenage years. She had a hard time accepting that what she started to feel for her friend was more than just gratitude and affection. Afraid to lose the independence she was starting to win back, she had a hard time realizing how she needed him by her side. Perhaps confessing to him would have helped her making a clean breast out of it. However, the fear of having her feelings hurt always prevented her from doing so. It was easy to endure physical pain. But the thought of having her heart torn apart paralyzed her. She had gone through that feeling once - although the cause had been far different - and it was already one time too much.

Then, as time passed and they kept walking on their respective paths, her feelings had alleviated to the point she almost forgot about their conflicted nature. Only one certainty had remained: they both cared for each other and would always be here for each other, no matter what. Yosano thought that she didn’t need anything more.

Learning that Ranpo had fallen in love with someone had proved her wrong.

Of course, Yosano was happy her never-growing-up-kid of a friend had gotten to that milestone. And of course, she only wished to root for him, to help him turn a new page of his story. She would always wish nothing but the best for him.

Yet, a more selfish part of herself felt jealous. Jealous that the sun shining on her life was going to shed its light and provide its warmth to someone else. It was stupid, childish even, she knew it. But she couldn’t help it. To make matters worse, not knowing who the one his heart ached for was left a room open for a slim hope – hope that it might be her. It was because she felt that silly hope budding deep within her heart that she knew she was still in love with him.

Yosano passed a weary hand at the back of her head, massaging her neck through her damp hair. Her growing headache had turned the curtain rail into a hammer drumming her skull like a gong with every heartbeat.

As much as her sore legs begged for her to throw herself on the couch, she forced them into motion and began to search for painkillers. After swallowing two pills, she surveyed the cupboards in her kitchen. Alcohol and drugs were not a recommendable duo, but she craved some good wine. Who didn’t love spoiling themselves with a little treat after a hard day?

And denial’s your favorite river, the little voice whispered again.

“Oh, shut up…” Yosano muttered back.

Then, before she could spot any bottle of her personal wine stock, her eye was caught by a bag of tea leaves resting in a corner of the cupboard. Yosano’s heart squeezed lightly when she recognized the brand. It was the tea leaves Ranpo had offered her for the New Year’s Eve party they had organized at the Agency. Initially, the group going out for groceries had to buy tea leaves for the President only. And of course, Ranpo couldn’t miss the chance to please his beloved boss-slash-adoptive-father. But damn if Yosano wasn’t taken aback when he pulled up some leaves for her, too. They may have known each other for over a decade, yet that guy still managed to surprise her, sometimes.

Whoever might his crush be, they’d better be aware that they were the luckiest person on Earth. Ranpo could appear as very self-centered, acting haughty and childish about ninety percent of the time, but he was always full of little attentions for the people he cared about. The various gifts and souvenirs gathered on the sideboard in Yosano’s living room like statues on a shrine attested of it.

Yosano took the teabag and stared at it. A strong, fruity scent titillated her nostrils as the bag stared back. The thin, sulfur-colored veins of the crumpled leaves seemed to be judging her.

Another sigh escaped her mouth. Alright. Tea will do.

Closing the cupboard’s door to kill all temptation for a glass of wine for good, Yosano fill in her kettle and switched it on. After taking out one cup and pouring some leaves in it, she finally granted her weary legs’ wish and went back to the living room, where she slumped on her couch. Lulled by the distant whistling of the gradually boiling water, she closed her eyes and waited for the drugs to kick in. Though it was late in the afternoon, she wouldn’t mind a good nap. Unfortunately, her brain was still buzzing like a restless beehive, scaring sleep away from her.

After a few minutes during which her mind wandered aimlessly, a cheery song broke the silence, rousing her from her somnolent state. It was her phone.

Ah, crap. With all her troubles fogging her mind, she had almost forgot she had to play caretaker at Ranpo’s house. Good thing she had set an alarm.

The kettle emitted a high-pitched whistle. As she went to switch it off, Yosano pondered whether she should forget about her tea and go directly to Ranpo’s, or allow herself some additional respite before going to see her probably still sulking friend. Yep, the second option sounded better. She wasn’t Kunikida; she could bend her program if she felt like it, and the world wouldn’t end for it.

Knowing him – and she did, like the back of her hand – Ranpo was probably still mad after what had happened in the morning. Dazai’s insistence had ruffled his feathers, despite Yosano’s warning. Ranpo had always hated when someone was voicing his feelings for him. As someone who grew up with him and discovered each and every one of his different sides along the way, she knew it better than anyone else.

Still, as much as she was annoyed by Dazai’s move, she had to admit he may have had been right when saying he wanted to help Ranpo. Stubborn as he was, the great detective could totally let years pass before finding the courage to confess his feelings to someone. If he ever found a way to confess that wasn’t through words. Ranpo was boastful and arrogant, but whenever it was about expressing his emotions, he could become extremely vulnerable. Whenever the topic was brought up, he would usually clam up like an oyster. Passing through the cracks of his shell to get to see the fragile pearl at his core was no easy task. As far as she knew, only Fukuzawa could achieve such an exploit. Yosano herself, too, perhaps. At least, she wanted to believe it.

The train of her thoughts was stopped again by the sound of her phone. For a split second, Yosano thought she had turned the alarm on repeat instead of sleep mode by mistake. But then she recognized her ringtone. Someone was calling her.

Her heart bounced when she grabbed her phone and saw his photo on the screen – an old picture of a younger him grinning while taking the pose with his freshly received detective hat.

Yosano took a deep breath and flipped the green icon.

“Hey, Ranpo. What’s up?”

“Hey.” The voice at the other end sounded muffled, and the characteristic crispy sound of footsteps in the fresh snow could be heard in the background. “You haven’t left your apartment yet, have you?”

Of course he’d know at what time she had set her alarm. That was just like him.

“I was about to get prepared,” she lied, shooting a guilty glance at her cup as she poured water in it. “Is something the matter?”

“Nothing. I just called to ask if you could delay the ‘babysitting visit’ for today.”

A chortle escaped Yosano with the speed of a bullet, making her almost drop her phone. The casual attitude didn’t last long. To laugh like that at a simple joke, she must still be a bit on edge…

“What’s wrong?” Ranpo asked, confused.

“Sorry. I just find it funny how you chose to call it.”

“Oh. Well, I know that’s how you perceive it.”

“Am I wrong, though?”

He chuckled. Apparently, he was in a better mood than the past morning. “Anyways, Mom, can I come to your apartment first? I’ll let you clean my room afterwards.”

Despite the jokes instilled in it, Ranpo’s request was so unexpected it took a few seconds for Yosano to react.

“Oh, I mean, sure. But why? Do you need anything?”

“What do you mean ‘why’?” He sounded as offended as if she had refused to buy him ice cream. “Do I need a reason for wanting to hang out with you?”

Hang out? As much as the idea of him taking some of his time to go see her and spend the evening together warmed her heart, something was off about the timing. If there was something she’d definitely did not expect her friend to do after his secret crush was put to light against his will, it was to call her to casually say he wanted to ‘hang out’. But to be fair, she would have never expected him to have a crush either, to begin with.

“Of course, you don’t. But I mean, I was going to see you at your house anyway. We can hang out after I’m done with your chores, if you want.”

“I’d rather spend the evening at your apartment. You’ll be too exhausted after doing my chores, you’ll only want to sleep.”

Now he sounded like a child having a whim. While that was cute, Yosano’s suspicion grew stronger. If he didn’t want her to be distracted with his chores, that meant he was expecting her to give him full attention for the evening. It wasn’t something uncommon; Ranpo was always craving for attention, whether it was hers, Fukuzawa’s, or someone else's. Nevertheless, Yosano was almost certain something was off, and his subtle insistence was starting to prove her right. She just couldn’t put her finger on what it was.

Time to see if she could open his shell as smoothly as she pretended to be able.

“Ok, fine. I’ll be waiting for you here, then. Seriously, though, what’s wrong? That’s kind of out of the blue, even for you.”

Ranpo clicked his tongue. “You really make it sound like I do need a reason to justify the fact I want to see you,” he whined.

“Just because you don’t need a reason doesn’t mean you don’t have a reason to want to see me.”

“… Heh. Playing the detective, aren’t you?”

He was seeing through her move. That was to be expected. “Well, I am a detective. And I’ve learnt from the best.”

He blew into the phone. No way to tell if it was a chuckle or a sigh, though.

“Look, even if I had something to tell you, I wouldn’t want to talk about it. Not tonight, at least. I just… I just want to see my friend because I’m bored and don’t feel like spending the evening alone. That’s all.”

She couldn’t tell which part of his sentence pulled the trigger. The refusal to speak up? The word ‘friend’? The fact he justified his call with so-called boredom? But something in the words he uttered left a hole in her stomach.

Her reply was sharp.

“Oh yeah, that’s all? Why don’t you go see your crush, then? That’d be a better use of your time. And since it’s Valentine’s, that’s a perfect opportunity for you to get closer, if you ask me.”

The footsteps came to a stop. For a few seconds that felt like hours, there was no other sound than Ranpo’s breath on the other line. There was something unsettling about that sudden silence. Eerie, even.

Then, the breath became a sigh. “Did what Dazai said this morning bother you that much?”

Touché. “What? The fact that you have a crush?” she retorted wryly. “Seeing how you lost your cool in front of Dazai this morning, I’d say you are the one who was bothered by what he said. But maybe I’m wrong. Are you sure you don’t want to talk it off with your dear friend? I’d love to hear your version of the story.”

He didn’t answer.

Yosano’s mouth went dry. What on Earth was she doing? If she kept on being so aggressive Ranpo would only clam himself even harder. She knew it, and yet her palate was burning like poison was oozing from it, ready to get spat with every word that’d come out of her mouth.

There was a crispy sound at the other end of the line. The footsteps had resumed. A chill ran along Yosano’s spine.

“Ranpo, I…” Guilt squeezed her throat as she searched for better words. Words that would not come out of her impulsive, bitter mind. “I… I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”

Still no answer. Yosano switched the phone to her other ear. Her palm was wet with sweat; she wiped it on her thigh abstractedly.

“It’s fine if you don’t want to talk about it,” she went on. “Really. I know you’re… you’re not at ease with this kind of things. I… didn’t mean to push you.”

There was a quiet sound, like he mumbled something. Though she did not catch what he said, Yosano preferred to not ask him to repeat it. No need to put more pressure on him than she already did.

“… To answer your question,” she eventually let out with a sigh, “I don’t mind if you have a crush. I–”

“Stop using that word.” The reply came as brisk and curt as a gunshot, startling her. “It’s not a ‘crush’. I just… I just have… feelings, for… for a certain person.”

“Ranpo, that’s the very definition of having a crush.”

“I disagree.” He sounded dead serious. “Having a crush on someone means having them on your mind constantly. I do not think all the time about that person. I just… I feel… better when they are next to me. Their voice silences my… my dark thoughts. I love spending time together. Talking with them, and making them laugh, and–”

He stopped mid-sentence. He probably noticed that he was starting to get carried away. Yosano would have given everything to see his face – she could only imagine it getting red up to his ears.

The words came out before she could stop them.

“Wow. You really got it bad, don’t you?”

“S-s-so what?! I-I can’t help it!!”

The cry pierced her ear – and yet what broke inside of her was not her eardrum, but her heart.

So much for being able to crack his shell smoothly. She’d better stick with opening the oysters on Christmas. The fact the way he’d described his love for that ‘certain person’ was painfully similar to what she felt for him surely didn’t help… But still, she felt awful for her childish reaction.

The sound of something getting crumpled – a paper? – could be heard on his end.

“I can’t help it…” he repeated, so quietly Yosano barely caught it.

Yosano opened her mouth, but quickly snapped it close. She tried to swallow, but her throat was as dry as a scorching desert.

During the pause that followed, with neither of them daring to speak or hang up, she idly used a spoon to push the half-drowning tea infuser. The lazy back-and-forth of the infuser darkening the water with the leaves' extract gradually appeased her mind, if only a little.

“Sorry,” she finally let out in a quiet breath. “I’m really being an ass tonight, huh?”

She wondered if he heard the way her voice was partly broken. And if he did, what he was thinking about it. For now, he remained silent.

“… Hey, Ranpo. Do you still want to come over?”

You got some nerve, Aki. If she was in Ranpo’s shoes, she’d have told herself to fuck off and hung up. No, she’d have hung up a long time ago. She didn’t deserve any less at this point.

“Why wouldn’t I?”

There was not the slightest hesitation in his reply.

“Uh…” Taken aback, Yosano gestured vaguely, as if the words were floating in the air and she tried to catch them as they passed by. “Because I’ve basically hurt your feelings? I mean… You must be mad at me, right now.”

This time, the sound he made could clearly be identified as a chuckle. “Don’t be silly. I know you didn’t mean to be harsh. Besides, it’s not like it’s the first time you put yourself in trouble because you fumble with your words.”

“What the…?! Ugh." Even though he could not see her, Yosano put a hand on her face to hide the blush creeping to her cheeks. "I should hang up on you right now.”

“But you won’t, because you’d be proving my point.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever.”

He let out that little giggle, the sassy one that always made her want to pinch his cheek.

“Anyway,” he went on, “don’t think I’d give up on spending some time with you just because you’re in a bad mood. You’ve been worse to me before, after all.”

“… Is that supposed to comfort me?”

“I guess? Though I think what would really comfort you would be… me making myself clear about that… ‘crush’ thing, like you call it. I know it bothers you. Don’t even try to deny it,” he said before she could protest. “I know it does.”

Yosano switched her phone back to her right ear, and pinched her nose. Her headache wasn’t going to leave anytime soon, at this rate.

“Are we going to try and pour each other’s heart out through the phone, now?”

He chuckled again. “Doubt it’ll work. And honestly, I’d rather forget about that topic for tonight. I think it’d be better if we could just… have fun together like we used to.” He paused briefly. His voice was levelled to a solemn tone when he spoke again. “And you know what? Maybe I’ll feel like talking it off with you, at some point. I know you’ll listen. I’m just…not ready.”

“… But you’re not sure when you’ll be ready. Or if you’ll be ready someday.”

She didn’t need to see him; she knew he was smiling apologetically. She felt it.

Yosano sighed. “Ok, fine. Let’s forget about it for tonight.” Fidgeting with her spoon, she added in a breath, “I’d really love to spend time with you without worrying about all of it.”

“Terrific.” Apparently, he didn’t hear what she said. Or maybe he pretended to not have heard it. “Oh, by the way, I’ve bought snacks. I can share some with you, if you want.”

Talk about a tension killer. Sometimes she wondered how he could jump from one subject to the other so casually. Especially after whatever was this failed therapy session between them. She almost envied his carefree attitude.

Shaking off the thought, she tried to imitate his casual tone. “Ranpo, sharing snacks should not be optional if you buy them right before hanging out with someone.”

“Snacks are always for me first, and for my friends second. You know that right.”

Yosano rolled her eyes. “Whatever you say. I’ll be waiting for you, then.”

“Actually, I’ve made it already. I’m right in front of your door. Can you open it for me?”

What.

Now that he was mentioning it, there had been a weird echo in her apartment each time he had spoken for a few minutes.

“… You’re really the worst.”

“Huh? What’s that supposed to mean?”

This time, Yosano let herself break into a fond smile. “Nothing. I’ll open the door in a minute. Give some time to… to prepare.”

“Prepare what? You’re already–”

“See you.”

Yosano hung up. Already prepared? Of course, she was. Since it was Ranpo, she didn’t mind receiving him in pajamas. But rushing to open the door for him because he was waiting outside unannounced – or rather, announced a bit late – was definitely not in her book. It was some stupid abuse of power, but she was at her home, and doing whatever she wanted when she was at her home was not punished by the law, for all she knew.

…What a petty way of justifying her need to put herself and her emotions together before seeing him in person. Though, knowing him and knowing her own clumsy self, he would see something through her anyway, that smartass.

Yosano took a sip of her drink. The temperature was good. And the taste was on point. Leaning against the counter, she watched the clock and its glowing digital numbers.

18:47

Ranpo could wait three minutes more.

Yosano was about to take another sip of her drink, when a knock caught her attention. It was a heavy, exaggeratedly slow knock, and it was soon, followed by another, just as heavy and slow. Then came another. Then another. And after seven of them, the time between two knocks became gradually shorter.

Yosano gazed again at her clock, deadpan.

18:49

You want to play that game? Haughtily ignoring the deafening knocks, strong enough to make the walls tremble, Yosano casually kept on sipping her tea.

Finally, the minutes changed from 49 to 50.

Her cartesian – and rather sadistic – mind satisfied, the doctor put her almost empty cup on the counter and went to open her door.

A gust of icy wind hit her in the face, along with the ear-splitting sound of a voice loud enough to start an avalanche on Mount Fuji all the way from Yokohama.

“Do you want me dead?! I was freezing back here!!”

Yosano stepped aside to let Ranpo enter – or rather, rush into her apartment like a storm. Barely trying to hide the smirk on her face, she closed the door and leaned on the wall, watching the trembling young man drop the bag he was holding close to his chest, then switching his snow-stained trooper boots for a pair of slippers.

“What can I say? The timing wasn’t on point. I was still in my bath when you called… unless you don’t care about seeing me naked?” she jokingly taunted him.

Ranpo glared at her. “Liar. You took a shower. And you were already out of the bathroom, all dressed up in that very pajama when I called you. You deliberately waited in your kitchen sipping tea while I was freezing on your front door.”

The air was indeed cooler than when she got back to her apartment a few hours ago. And if Ranpo’s face was flushed in red, anger was probably not the only one to blame.

Pushing back a surge of guilt, Yosano helped him taking off his charcoal-black coat. “Sometimes the way you can precisely describe what I was doing through a simple phone call is really frightening.”

“I’m a great detective, in case you forgot.”

Yosano chose the exact moment he took off his hat to reach out and ruffle his hair. Ignoring his cry of protestation, she took his bag and went to the living room. Various snacks were crammed into it, mostly sweets. She recognized his most favorites, of course, but there were also some of the pastries she was fond of. Coincidence? She doubted it…

Leaving the bag on the table, she turned to see Ranpo squatted next to a radiator. He had kept his scarf and gloves on, something Yosano found very cute.

“Seriously, though. What would you have done if I was still taking a bath when you called?” she inquired.

His answer was immediate, said with that scornful tone that gave away his vexation. “First of all, I would have noticed it through the phone call – again, because I’m a great detective. Then, I would have warned you earlier during the phone call, so you’d get ready and dressed up by the time I arrived.” He shot her another glare. “But it’s not like you’d take your phone with you when taking a bath.”

Yosano raised her hands in surrender, lips still curled in a smirk. “Alright, touché.”

Still looking daggers at her, Ranpo took off his gloves, in an attempt to bring the heat of the radiator directly on his frozen skin.

Then, without any warning, he sneezed, so loudly the whole building appeared to shake like under an earthquake.

“Ack…! See? Because of you, the greatest detective of Japan – no, of the world – is going to get SICK!!”

And Mount Fuji will lose all the snow at its top if you keep yelling like that.

“Oh, please. Your nose is getting wet because of the temperature difference between here and the outside. It will pass after you’ve warmed up.”

“You may be the doctor here, but I’m hardly convinced.”

He angrily snatched the tissue she offered him and blew his nose.

“If I ever lose my sense of taste after that, you’ll be hearing from me,” he grunted, still sniffing.

Yosano turned on her heels. “You’re such a baby sometimes,” she sighed. “I’ll make you some tea. That’ll help you warm u–”

The chill-inducing sensation of something wet and cold being pressed against her neck cut Yosano’s reply short. She tried to jump forward to evade it, but two arms snaked her waist, preventing any escape.

“Eek! Back off!! You’re freezing cold!!”

“Ha! Do you believe me, now?”

Ranpo nuzzled his nose against the crook of her neck, sending shivers along her spine – shivers quickly quelled by the sudden warmth sprouting from her chest.

“Ok, ok, I get it. I’m sorry,” she said, her whole body shaking in an attempt to contain a growing laughter. Her efforts became vain once the frozen touch of cold fingertips found the bare skin of her abs under the rim of her shirt. “Wai– ha-ha! – Stop it! I said I was sorr-hee-hee-ha-ha-ha!”

Ranpo joined her in her laugh, though he was the one leading the tickle attack. Fighting against her hilarity, Yosano squirmed until her leg found his. Using the self-defense techniques Fukuzawa had taught her years ago, she managed to make Ranpo lose his balance, and shifted her center of gravity to accompany him in his fall. Of course, she had managed to make sure they’d fall on the couch, but she could still feel the air leaving Ranpo’s lungs as she knocked him against it.

“Ow…!”

His legs still tangled with hers, Ranpo writhed to try to catch his breath – and gasped as he ended up swallowing her hair instead of oxygen. Meanwhile, Yosano was still hilarious, albeit a bit dizzy because of the fall, and his closeness, and the feeling of his hands against her ribs and his breath, so warm against her neck…

The realization was as violent as a fall from a ten-story building. She suddenly became very self-conscious – and as much as a little voice in her head screamed "move!", her body refused to budge, as if glued to the presence behind her back.

“Hey…!” Ranpo dug his fingers in her shoulders, in an attempt to shove her aside. “You’re crushing me…!!”

Yosano startled. Ranpo’s voice had managed to bring her back to reality.

Pull yourself together, Aki.

Mumbling a "sorry", she sat up and set him free. Ranpo sighed in relief. Fortunately, he didn’t seem to have noticed her sudden distress. Or, if he did, he chose to not mention it.

“Jeez… Sometimes I miss the times when you were smaller and frailer than me.”

“Are you perhaps insinuating that I’m heavy, Edogawa Ranpo?”

“Nah. We both know that mass is essentially muscle.”

“Smart aleck.” She elbowed him, but instead of a playful protest, she got a faint groan as a response. “You okay?”

“No,” Ranpo whined, hugging his own chest. “I feel like I’ve been run on by an elephant.”

Yosano elbowed him again.

“Ow!! Hey, stop that!! You’re breaking my ribs!!”

“Oh, come on. I know you’re as solid as a twig, but ribs don’t break that easily.”

Even though she had said that, the doctor in her took over her agitation. Her voice came back in a professional tone, as if a switched had been flipped.

“Alright… Let me see that.”

He complied and lifted his arms, still sulking like a child. With expert gestures, Yosano palpated his thorax through the fabric of his shirt, sometimes asking him to breathe as she pressed fingers on specific points. As expected, she didn’t spot anything broken or unusual.

But instead of informing him that there was nothing to whine about, she stared at his exposed, defenseless flanks. A small smile was etched on her lips as an idea took shape in her mind.

Swiftly, she glided her fingers from his ribs down to the sides of his belly, and tickled them.

“Wh-HAHAHA! Hey!! Stop!! Stop tha-HA-HA-HA-at!!!”

All tension now killed for good, she let his laugh contaminate her. Even when he managed to clasp her shoulders in his arms, blocking her tickle attack, both kept on laughing uncontrollably, not stopping until they were breathless.

“You cheater…” Ranpo huffed after they’ve calmed down. “You tricked me…”

“As if you using your cold fingers doesn't count as cheating,” Yosano retorted, holding her belly still clenched because of the laughter.

Ranpo let out a snort and, using the fact his was still embracing her at his advantage, pressed his nose back on the crook of her neck.

“Hey! Stop that!”

“What? You only told me using my cold hands was cheating.” She couldn’t see his face, yet she could swear he was wearing a cheeky grin on it. “I never heard you say anything about my nose.”

“Ha, ha. Very clever.”

She made as if pushing him away, but he was holding her firmly. She could feel the beating of his racing heart against her back. Her own heartbeat accelerated again, as if trying to catch up the pace.

“… Come on, Ranpo. You can let go, now.”

“Eh? No way. You’re so warm and I’m still freezing. Gimme five more minutes.”

The warmth of his breath against her neck settled low in her belly. Troubled, Yosano put a hand on his wrist. His arms surrounding her were so comforting… it was hard to not feel drawn to their reassuring embrace. But as the hug lasted, she could not put a growing sense of guilt out of her mind.

She lightly squeezed his wrist. “Ranpo. Let me go. Please.”

To her surprise, he obeyed without insisting or even protesting. If she went by the way his body had stiffen and the sharp intake of breath he’d taken, he was probably worried he had crossed a boundary.

Giving him an apologetic smile, she gently scratched his scalp. Hopefully he wouldn’t feel the tension through her gesture.

“I’ll make you some tea, okay? I’ll be right back.”

He nodded docilely. “Can I have a blanket, too?”

“Sure thing, princess.” She ruffled his hair affectionately before he could comment the nickname.

After pouring water in two cups, Yosano used the mandatory waiting time for the leaves to infuse to go look for a blanket. It also gave her some time for her aroused emotions to settle down.

It was not the first time he held her like that. It shouldn’t be affecting her.

And yet, it did. There was no denying it: she longed for more intimate gestures from him. His embrace, his hands stroking her hair, the soothing rise-and-fall of his chest. So far, she had tasted all of it every time she was experiencing a panic attack or a nightmare. But receiving a hug from a playful argument had made her realize that she desperately needed to experience such intimacy on more casual, mundane occasions.

Yosano shook her head. It wasn’t up to her to decide how and to whom Ranpo should give his time and affection.

When she came back with their cups and the blanket, he had taken off his scarf, and was now sitting cross-legged, a pack of sweets open on his lap. Sneaking up on him from behind, she let the blanket fall on his head.

“Wah!”

After a few seconds of scuffling with the thing to put it on his shoulders, Ranpo’s head popped up, his hair even messier than it already was.

“Whew… Thank you kindly,” he sneered, albeit playfully.

“At your service.”

She didn’t know why she felt like messing with him like that, tonight. Maybe because she knew he would want to play along like he did. Or maybe because it was the last straw holding her composure together.

She gave him his cup and sat next to him. Ranpo blinked, head tilted to the side like one of a confused puppy. He tugged at her sleeve to get her attention. When she turned her gaze in his direction, he unfolded a corner of the blanket and tilted his head again, wordlessly suggesting to share it. Yosano hesitated briefly, before eventually complying and wrapping the blanket around her shoulder. It was warm – but not as warm as the smile she spotted on his face when she scooted closer to him.

“Want some?” he asked, handing over the snacks she liked.

“Don’t mind if I do.”

She picked a mochi out of the bag, and took a bite while Ranpo blew on his tea, seizing the cup with both hands as if trying to capture its warmth.

“Is that the tea I offered you on New Year’s Eve?” he asked after inhaling the scent.

Yosano nodded. “I really love those leaves. They’re tasty and have just the right amount of bitterness.”

“I know, that’s why I chose them for you.”

“Hey, don’t worry, sweet tooth. I added sugar in your tea. Two cubes. But don’t hesitate if you want more.”

“No, that’s perfect. Just what it takes to go well with the dango,” he added while stuffing his cheeks with some.

Yosano rolled her eyes, a smile finding its way on her face. Whether they had argued or not, he always had the knack to lighten up her mood with only a few words. That guy. She really didn’t deserve him.

Ranpo blew on his tea again and tried to take a sip. His tongue quickly retired after being in contact with the hot surface. Yosano couldn’t help but smile at the way he wrinkled his nose. He obviously caught that, and glared at her, daring her to mock him. She held his stare without stopping grinning, going as far as sticking her tongue at him. Ranpo mimicked the gesture, exaggerating it as if saying "See? My tongue is burnt." Yosano stifled a chuckle, covering her mouth with her hand. Breaking into a fond smile himself, he nudged her playfully.

“Hectic day, today?” Ranpo asked after a short silence.

“Mmh. You can say that. Nothing out of the ordinary, but damn if it wasn’t tiring.”

She didn’t bother giving the details. Since they had agreed on calling a truce on the tough topic of feelings, it was clearly not the moment to go back on her rather Valentine’s-themed day.

Stuffing his cheeks with more dango, Ranpo kept glancing at her from the corner of his eye. “Bad headache?” he eventually insisted.

Yosano gave him a lopsided smile. “Sometimes, I wonder if you wouldn’t make a better doctor than me, giving accurate diagnostics in the blink of an eye like that.”

“No way. I’m no match for you. I could only tell because I know you very well.” He twisted his arm to point at the kitchen door. “And because you left the painkillers’ box and a glass on your kitchen’s counter.”

“Observant as always, aren’t you.”

He pouted. “You’re not really giving me much of a challenge with this one, honestly.”

Yosano shook her head and took a sip of her drink. Ranpo had so much pride in him he couldn’t take a joke or a compliment about his detective skills without having his big ego offended. If it was irritating to most people, Yosano actually found it endearing. She never missed an occasion to mess with this cute side of him.

“You know, you’re not obliged to go do my chores today, if you don’t feel like it,” Ranpo then said. “You can always come tomorrow.”

“… Wow, you scared me for a second. I almost thought you were going to propose to do them yourself, this time.”

He rolled his eyes, lips aping her reply. Once again, she had to stifle a laugh at his childish reaction.

“I’m serious, though,” he insisted. “You know you can always delay your visit if you’re too exhausted. I can survive in my own clutter.”

But it’ll kill you to clean it yourself, apparently. Swallowing the remark, Yosano put a hand on his thigh.

“I appreciate the concern. But I’m not that tired, you know. And as for the headache… the drugs are already kicking in. I’ll be fine.”

And being with you is enough to help with it, too. The words, though left untold, seemed to linger in the space around them. Like a sunflower drawn to the light of the sun, Yosano progressively leaned into Ranpo’s presence, her muscles relaxing accordingly to what she didn’t dare admit aloud.

It was hard to tell who laid their head on the other’s first. They seemingly moved in sync, without having to consult the other – as they would often do, given how they often appeared to be on the same page.

Silence fell on them like a second blanket, just as cozy as the first one, and free of any tension, this time. Absent-mindedly sipping their tea or nibling at the snacks, they stared idly at the black screen of the TV on the other side of the table. Their blurred reflection made it look like their silhouettes had merged into one – a thought Yosano preferred to not pursue.

Yosano closed her eyes and sighed in delight. All the remaining tensions above her eyes and at the bottom of her nape slowly retreated like shadows when facing the light. Even her fatigue was gradually fading away. She didn’t know until then how much she had missed this kind of evenings, when it was just her and Ranpo and the silence wrapping them comfortably, with no need to fill it in because it was soothing just the way it was.

A sense of bitterness mingled with the taste of the tea in her palate. The same question came back spiraling in her mind: would Ranpo’s feelings for that person he refused to name ever change this precious bond their shared? Her heart asserted that no. Their bond was too tight to be torn by something so trivial.

Her mind, however, was sowing the seeds of doubt.

“What about you?” she said, her voice floating in the air like bubbles in a still pond.

“What about me what?” he answered, his voice levelled at this low tone that made it vibrate slightly.

“How was your day? You didn’t give any sign of life after you left this morning. Where have you been?”

He shrugged. “Oh, there’s nothing much to tell. I was at Poe’s mansion most of the day. Been reading a lot. Played ping-pong. That sort of things.”

Yosano hummed absent-mindedly. So Ranpo had skipped a day of work to take refuge in his dear friend’s home. Not very surprising, actually, considering how he had looked like thunder when busting out the agency headquarters.

A string was pulled at Yosano’s heart. Could Ranpo’s crush be Poe? According to Dazai, the lucky one was someone the great detective had known for a long time. And his realization must have been quite recent if no one, especially her or Fukuzawa, had noticed anything until the last morning.

Poe and Ranpo had indeed met a long time ago. Though the former had kind of disappeared for six years or so – that’s what Ranpo had told her, at least – Poe reappearing in his life within the past year could have awoken something in Ranpo.

Besides, they shared common interests. How many times did she listen to Ranpo gushing about Poe’s books, acknowledging his talents at writing challenging mysteries with an enthusiasm he desperately tried to hide behind a fake nonchalance? And what about the not-so-secret fact that Ranpo would often crash at Poe’s place for tea breaks or just because he was bored and no one from the agency was available to give him some distraction?

Everything added up.

To be honest, Yosano didn’t think Poe would be a bad partner – not for Ranpo, at least. He was nice, polite, and definitely cared a lot about the detective’s well-being. Yes, he was a bit weird and a borderline sociopath at times, but no one’s perfect, right? If you asked her, Ranpo couldn’t find a better life partner.

So why did her heart clench so painfully?

Lost in her thoughts, Yosano didn’t notice the way Ranpo was looking at her. The way he had been peeking at her ever since they feel silent. The way his fingers grazing her arm because of their closeness twitched from time to time.

Then, suddenly…

“NGAAAAAAH~!!”

Yosano jumped so hard she almost threw herself out of the couch. Without any warning, Ranpo had sat up and stretched out his arms above his head, while letting out a yawn worthy of the first place in a bear roar imitation contest.

“… Damn it, Ranpo. Warn before doing that.”

Fortunately, her cup was almost empty. If she had spilled any drop on herself or the couch, there would have been an actual roar resonating within the walls – and it would have belonged to her, this time.

“Sorry.” Ranpo scratched his head, not looking sorry for the least. “Say, I’m getting hungry. Let’s go grab something to eat!”

Without waiting for an answer, he gulped the rest of his tea, jumped out of the couch, and tugged at her sleeve.

“Hungry?” Yosano raised an eyebrow while gently pushing his hand away. “You’ve been eating more than half of these snacks ever since you’ve sat on this couch.”

Ranpo pouted. “That’s not enough. I’m still hungry.”

There he went acting like a toddler again. Sometimes, she wondered what was going through this sharp-witted genius’s mind to cause such a U-turn in his behavior.

“Besides, talking about Poe reminded me of something.” Ranpo began searching for something in his pockets. Finding nothing, he frowned, then let out a silent “oh!” and scurried to get his coat. He came back less than a second later, with his phone in his hand. “He told me about a café he often goes to, that’s not too far from Yokohama. It opened recently, so not many people know about it. Which is why he likes it so much, obviously – and also because they allow pets.”

Ranpo jumped back on the couch and showed his phone to Yosano. Nudging his sides to prevent him to slump over her, she took the thing with one hand to have a better look at it. The latest photos displayed in his gallery indeed show what looked like a café, albeit in a more modern setting than Café Uzumaki.

“I looked at the menu, and it’s pretty promising. And above all, they don’t have a Valentine’s Day-themed one – good grief… So I doubt many people will be there tonight. At least, there won’t be lot of sappy couples. Oh, and!” He glided his finger on the screen to show another pic. “Apparently, there’s an arcade room and even a karaoke room adjoining the café! Poe never goes there, but he said it was pretty popular, and…”

Yosano stopped listening to his endless ramble – did this guy ever need to catch his breath when talking? – and took a peek at the clock above the TV. 19:42. Ranpo’s proposition was tempting. To be honest, taking the train to go out eating sounded less tiring than preparing something herself, all the more for two persons.

Besides, seeing Ranpo get extravagantly excited like that reminded her of their younger years – back when he would drag her to various places whenever he wanted to have some fun.

A dozen years later, nothing had changed. When he smiled at her like that, she still wanted to follow him, should it be to the ends of the world.

“Alright, Ranpo,” she said, finally putting an end to his chatter. “Shall we go, then?”

*~*~*

The café was an ancient casino that had been reconverted. The scenery was nice, and as Poe had described it, it was indeed very cozy. The café was around three times bigger than Café Uzumaki, allowing the customers some intimacy even if the room were to get full. Ranpo and Yosano dined out on nothing and everything; and when the conversation subjects started to dry up, Ranpo pulled out a set of hanafuda cards. They played a few games, not bothering being quiet for the least. When the bartender eventually told them – a bit harshly – to go play in the arcade room, both politely complied, though neither felt sorry for the least.

As it stands, they could discover that the “arcade room” adjoined to the café didn’t deserve its name. It looked more like an old classroom from a deserted school, with three terminals taken from an actual arcade, a TV with a console and a few games, and a closet full of board games. Nevertheless, that was more than enough for the to have some fun. Time flew without them noticing it, as the games of go, Chinese checkers, and of course hanafuda followed one another.

After her sixth loss in a row at Chinese checkers, Yosano suggested they switched to video games. Battle games, her specialty, allowed her to even the scores. Then went the race games that threw them into shared, uncontrollable laughter. Apparently, the racket they caused wasn’t to the bartender’s taste, who simply threw them out. Too bad they couldn’t make the most of the place and try the karaoke; but even when going back into the cold February night, they were happy and giddy with all the fun they had nonetheless.

“Damn, I haven’t laughed like that in years,” Yosano said on their way to the station. “It sure feels good.”

“Right you are. We definitely should do that more often.”

“I’d like that.” She elbowed him playfully. “Not to mention I still have to get my revenge on some games.”

Ranpo chuckled. “At least you’re okay with postponing the return game. Did I tell you that the Director once kept me at his home all night long because he couldn’t win a game of go against me?”

“No way. I never pictured him as a sore loser.”

“The thing is, he can be very touchy when it comes to go. I think I wounded his pride.” Ranpo pouted. “Too bad I had to learn it the hard way.”

“Well, he should have known better than letting you challenge him. You’ve got a real talent for board games.”

“Yeah, I know that’s why you wanted to switch to video games so bad,” he teased.

“Hey, let me use to my advantage the only ground I can beat you on!”

Ranpo rolled his eyes, although his smile gave away a certain token of fondness. He hadn’t seen her so happy in… years, indeed. Maybe Dazai was right; maybe they had let their bond collect dust over the years. Fortunately, it took more than that for it to wither, but still…

“I have one complaint to make, though.” Yosano peered at him with accusing eyes. “There was not enough alcohol, tonight.”

Ranpo raised his eyes heavenwards. “Don’t give me that look. I know I killed your favorite part of the fun, but as far as I’m concerned, you’re the only one of us who knows how to take the train. I couldn’t take the risk of having my ride drunk and unable to take me home.”

“You make it sound like I can’t control myself.”

“Yosano. You can’t control yourself when you start drinking.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yes.”

“You have so little faith in me, it’s heartbreaking.”

“Not as heartbreaking as seeing you spill the content of your stomach after every party.”

“Every party? Now, you’re exaggerating.”

“Barely.”

“Alright. Give me one time when I went out of my way and got drunk enough to pass out?”

Ranpo raised one finger. “That one party in Tokyo we attended during an undercover mission with Kunikida and Tanizaki.” He raised a second finger. “Your graduation celebration party.” A third finger. “The celebration of the 10th anniversary of the agency.” A fourth. “Your friend’s wedding. Do you want me to continue?”

Yosano made as if grabbing his fingers. Knowing pretty well that she could break them if she wanted to, Ranpo quickly withdrawn his hand back in his pocket.

“Smart aleck,” she huffed, cheeks turning red out of embarrassment.

“I’m only stating facts.”

“You could have let me drink at least one glass or two. I don’t get drunk so fast…”

“Couldn’t take the risk.”

The doctor held his stare for a moment, before giving in with a sigh. Mumbling something under her breath, she accelerated her pace. Ranpo let her take some distance, then followed her lead before she got out of sight.

When he caught up with her, she had already reached the station. It was a restrained little station like those you could find in the countryside or the suburbs. A small flock of stairs led to a platform overhanging the tracks. Only two benches adorned it, along with a rain-shelter where the train timetables were displayed.

Yosano signaled him to come closer. Ranpo sighed, sensing a bothersome teasing approaching like a storm. Nevertheless, he complied and trudged to her.

“Look, Master Detective. Imagine that we’re here, in this station, and I am drunk and unable to help you. How do you take the train?”

Ranpo yawned nonchalantly. “Easy. I don’t take the train. I find a hotel, book two rooms, and wait for you to sober up in the morning.”

“Pfft. You’re hopeless.”

Ranpo dodged her attack before she could bump his arm, and went to sit on a bench. The clock standing idly at the end of the platform read 23:56. There were almost twenty minutes left before the next train.

And Valentine’s Day’s almost over... The thought had barely crossed his mind that Ranpo shook his head to drive it away. Why did he care if that stupid day was about to end? It meant nothing to him.

Nothing…

When Yosano took place next to him, the detective couldn’t help but take a look at her. Her gaze was distant; melancholic, even. Ranpo knew that even if he were to put his glasses on and use his Super-Deduction, he would never be able to see what was going through her mind. He wished he could, though. For now, all he could do was merely guess, and… Hell, he hated the uncertainty that came along with it. It reminded him of the days Yosano was still clammed behind the shell of her trauma. At that time, he was doing everything he could to try and open this shell. The fact he had to fail multiple times before succeeding always irked him. What use was it to be a great detective if he didn’t know what could dispel his friend’s dark thoughts and make her happy? – that’s what he would think.

However, this time, things were not exactly the same. This time, Ranpo had the solution. He knew what he had to do to kill the lingering tension between them. But fear froze him in place every time he did as much as envision the turn their conversation could take if he were to put into words the feelings locked in his chest.

So instead, he chose to act natural. To distract her as best as he could. If only he didn’t feel like he was nothing but a coward for making this choice…

“Hey, Yosano?”

Yosano blinked, as if roused from a daze.

“Do you remember the day I first took you to an arcade?” Ranpo asked her, fidgeting lightly.

She hummed pensively while gathering her memories. “Vaguely. I remember having had a winning streak against you in an arcade. That must have been during that time.”

“It’s fine if you don’t remember all the details. It goes back, now. You were still barely leaving your wheeling chair by that time.”

A wistful hue clouded Yosano’s eyes for a brief second.

“Well, piling wins against you is surely something one can’t forget,” she said, a smug grin on her face.

Ranpo grinned back. “I bet. I had never seen anyone mastering arcade games in so little time. Man, it sure came as a shock. I mean, you were always so apathetic, even after you got out of the hospital. Seeing you finally smile and show a side of your true personality… yeah.”

His voice went down an octave as he plunged his gaze into hers.

“That definitely made the losses worth it.”

Yosano’s eyes glistened. Shyness – an emotion she’d rarely show, even to him – made her break the eye contact. Pulling her false fur collar upwards in an attempt to hide her burning cheeks, she slightly curled up, head low.

“I’m really lucky you were by my side back then,” she murmured. “I don’t know if I would have made it if you hadn’t been there for me.”

He didn’t answer immediately. Closing in, he leaned his head against hers, temples touching. She leaned against him like she did earlier in the evening, reveling in his presence.

“I didn’t do anything special. I just gave you support and guidance at the start. The rest, you achieved it by yourself.”

A soft gasp escaped Yosano. As if the sound had awoken an old reflex in him, Ranpo immediately took her hand in his, and squeezed it in a reassuring way. After a few seconds, she captured his fingers with her thumb, stroking them gently.

No sound came to fill in the cottony silence. With all wildlife around sound asleep, it was just them, the moon and the stars above their heads… And also the words none of them knew how to say, and which fluttered between them like fireflies in the night – beautiful, yet elusive.

Then, an idea struck Ranpo. Stirring himself away from Yosano’s warmth, he stood up and went to the edge of the platform. There, he crouched, threw his legs in the void, and jumped.

“Wh– Ranpo? Hey, where are you going?”

From the crudely lightened platform, Yosano spotted his shadow crouched in the middle of the tracks.

“Hey, what are you doing? Come back, it’s dangerous!”

She was about to join him, when he finally stood and trotted back to the spot where he had jumped. There, he tried to climb back on the platform. But his arms failed him.

“Huff…! Hey… Don’t just stay there, help me!!”

Yosano shot him a deadpan glare. Eventually, she seized him by the armpits and lifted him up like he was easy weight.

“Dammit… just what came into you?” she breathed after putting him down.

“Huff… Sorry,” Ranpo panted. “I saw something on the rails and wanted to take a look at it.

“… Well, you could have used the stairs, dummy. Anyway, what is it that you saw…?”

Ranpo opened his clasped palms, revealing a small flower. It had stunning, vibrant white colors spreading on long, thin petals.

“It’s pretty, right?” He handed the flower to her. “Here. You can take it.”

She looked at him, then at the flower, then at him again. “Really, now? You risked your life walking on a railroad when we’re waiting for a train to arrive because you wanted to gift me a flower?”

He pouted, offended. “Oh c’mon, look at the clock: there’s more than a quarter left before the train arrives. I wasn’t risking anything.” He massaged his wrists. “… Except maybe a broken bone.”

Yosano tried to glare at him, but soon her lips creased into a smile. When she leaned in to take the flower, she reached out and lightly pinched his ear.

“I told you, you should have used the stairs.”

“Uh, yeah, um… I, uh… wanted to take the shortest route…”

There he was, stumbling over his words like a three-year-old. This was exactly why he couldn’t bring himself to try and tell what he wanted to tell her. He would just stammer, stutter, blabber nonsense and make a fool of himself, without ever finding the words that could grasp if only a fraction of what he truly wanted to convey.

Still, part of him thought, if he didn’t even try, how could he ever now if he’d fail or succeed? That was what Yosano herself would say whenever doing a risky bet.

The thought would probably have comforted him more if it wasn’t his very future that was at stake…

“I, uh, I just…” Dancing on his feet, Ranpo scratched his head. Damn, he hated to do this. He had never wanted to disappear six feet down so much in his life. This was pathetic. “I s-spotted that flower when we arrived earlier. And, uh… I know how much you like flowers, so I… I thought you’d like to receive this one. Why I thought that? No reason at all. I j-just wanted to pick it up. Because I know you love flowers. Oh, I also know why you love flowers that much. Wanna hear why you love flowers that much?”

Yosano blinked. Ranpo’s speech was utterly confused and confusing. At any rate, he didn’t wait for her answer to continue.

“It’s because they’re fleeting. And fragile. No matter how beautiful, flowers don’t last long, and are very sensitive to any kind of external aggression. You love it because it reminds you of how fleeting and fragile lives are.”

His tone progressively went from feverish to a more solemn one, his assurance growing with every word.

“Actually, everything that is ephemeral strikes your sensitive chord. Whether it’s a flower, a butterfly, or the flame of a sparkler, you are always reminded of the importance of life, because it’s just as ephemeral as those simple things.”

They held eye contact for a lasting moment. Eventually, Yosano gazed at the flower. A soft smile timidly made its way to her face.

“You sure do know me very well.”

Ranpo’s eyes fell on the butterfly hairclip attached to her hair.

“… I’m doing my best,” he said, voice levelled.

He stared at her, eyes burning as ardently as if the world was about to end and she was the sole thing he wanted to save. This time, she didn’t look away.

Maybe the search had been vain from the beginning. There were so many languages in the world, and yet no word from any dialect could describe what lied between them. Only them could see it, smoldering in each other’s eyes. Only them could feel it, weaving that inextricable thread linking their hearts.

Only them could understand what it was.

Once again, it was impossible to say who made the first move. Both leaned forward in perfect sync, until their lips grazed the other’s. It started as a faint touch, merely a caress, hesitant like a question – a question she asked him. It went on with light presses coming in a regular back-and-forth, unhurried, reassuring like a promise – a promise he made her as an answer. Finally, as the last walls of fear and doubt came down, she leaned into the kiss like she meant it, holding onto his promise the same way she did on the day they met. And because he felt her trusting him, he held her more firmly, determined to not let her down.

Eventually, both pulled away at the same time, breathless after finally letting out what they’ve kept locked within their chest for so long. Resting their foreheads against each other’s, they remained silent, burning in the still cold of this February night.

Then, after a minute that could have also been an hour, Yosano lifted her hand to tangle her fingers with Ranpo’s hair. Careful to not make his hat fall, she gently stroked the top of his reddened ear with her thumb.

“See? Valentine’s Day’s not so bad, after all.”

Ranpo's jaw dropped. “Wh-What? What does it have to do with…?!”

Yosano giggled softly. “Relax, I’m joking. But still, can you really assert me everything that happened tonight would have happened the same way if Dazai hadn’t used this day as an excuse to tease you about your–”

“I beg you, don’t say ‘crush’. You’re not my crush.” He dipped his head to hide his face in the crook of her neck. “You’re more than that. So much more…”

“I know, dummy. I know. I understood your… message.”

She cupped his cheek and pressed it lightly, inviting him to pull away to look at her. He did, although he couldn’t resist the temptation of offering a scornful pout.

“By the way, I’ll have you know that Valentine’s has been over for a few minutes, now. So even if it mattered, well, it doesn’t. Period.”

Yosano guffawed. His presence and the love she now knew he shared with her inebriated her in a way even the finest of wines couldn’t compare. He could see it in the way her cheeks blushed, in the way her magenta eyes glittered like a thousand stars had been trapped in them.

Huh, ain’t that poetic… Yosano was right. He really got it bad. But he couldn't help it...

Once she calmed down, Ranpo closed his eyes, before leaning in again. When his lips were close enough to hers, he mouthed the words “I love you”, as if intending to breath them into the kiss. She smiled as their lips connected a second time, happily taking those silent words inside her and letting them explode in her chest like fireworks.

But before they could lose themselves into a deeper wordless exchange, the train’s distant whistle forced time into motion again. Stirring apart, they nonetheless kept on hugging each other, not wanting to let go until the rattling of the wheels on the rails closed in.

Because of the racket coming from the machinery, deafening compared to the stillness of the scenery a mere seconds ago, Ranpo had to lean close to Yosano’s ear to ask her:

“Hey… Since it’s pretty late… Wanna sleep at my house?”

Yosano narrowed her eyes. If it wasn’t for the subtle shudder around the corner of her mouth, Ranpo would have sworn she was dumbfounded by his proposal.

“Heh. Not wasting time, are you, Ranpo?”

Ranpo blinked, then straightened up like a spring. His face turned so red, one could almost see steam coming out of his ears.

“Wh-what? That’s not…! I was just… It’s closer to the station, and…”

Yosano pressed her lips together to prevent another laugh from bursting out of her chest. She poked him on the chest. Could she feel his heart pounding so hard under it?

“Relax, dummy. I’m pulling your leg.”

For lack of anything to retort, Ranpo turned around and rushed inside the train, cheeks puffed out. Yosano followed him in, cheeks red from the cold, the laugh and… something else. Something stronger.

Something they didn’t need to name.

“Ranpo?”

They had reached their car when she called his name. When he turned to look at her and met her soft, loving gaze, butterflies took his irritation away just like the butterflies of her skill, Thou shalt not die, would take away all wounds.

“That was the best night I’ve ever had,” she whispered, even though they were alone in the car. “I… I would love to do it again.”

Ranpo took off his glove and squeezed her hand. It was warm.

“Yeah, me too,” he answered on the same tone. “Anytime.”

“How about tomorrow, then? And this time, we’ll spend the night at my home.”

Ranpo chose to ignore the suggestive – though still playful – tone of her words. Too bad he couldn’t ignore the sudden peak in his pulse… But to be fair, he didn’t mind it. He was ready to welcome anything that would come out of their relationship.

As he’s always been.

“I’m fine with it…” He shot her an impish grin. “As long as you don’t leave me freezing on your front door.”

Yosano tossed her head back and laughed. “Deal!”

Notes:

Fun fact: Ranpo having the other members of the Agency doing his chores for him three times a week is an actual canon fact, stated by Asagiri himself in a recent interview. That was so cute I couldn't resist the temptation of mentionning it in this fic...
Anyway, thank you for reading this fic. I hope you liked it!

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