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Danny Motta and Edogawa Ranpo hated each other.
This was obvious to anyone who would watch their interactions.
In fact, the second Danny had met the so-called Great Detective, and heard him talk for five seconds, he already hated the walking ball of “I’m so amazing.”
Danny had just gotten his job at Café Uzumaki, for the sake of extra money, and Ranpo had just gotten back from a case. He was chatting to a lady with dark-purplish hair and a butterfly pin (Danny would later learn that her name was Yosano Akiko) and had most likely come to the café after some post-work caffeine addiction.
At least, that’s what Danny thought. Initially. (Tomoe Mami and Gloopi Dooperson should have taught him long ago never to trust first impressions.)
When Ranpo had strolled in, the first thing Danny could hear was, “Why are the police all such idiots?! It’s not even funny anymore! I’m the only detective who knows anything!”
Oh, I already hate you, Danny had thought.
“Ranpo,” the woman next to him chided. “Your ten-minute rant is up.”
The probably-detective slumped downward as he huffed in frustration. Then he looked up and noticed Danny. “Oh,” he’d said. “You’re new. I’m guessing you’re here for extra money ‘cause being a YouTuber didn’t work out when you came here from America?”
…what the fuck.
Danny had scoffed, trying to avoid yelling at this dude. What the hell was this pretentious freak doing? Sure, his assumptions were correct, but still extremely rude. “You’re in a café. Do you want anything, or are you just gonna stand there?”
Ranpo had ordered a pastry, and that was that.
But from that point on, Danny hated that detective with every cell in his body.
And Danny expressed this openly, however, there wasn’t much he could do without getting fired from his job at this stupid coffee shop. (Which was not fair at all, considering that the new redhead girl was flipping out at the tiger kid—Atsuki or something—every chance she got. In fact, Danny was sure he’d seen her spit in at least one of his drinks.) But Danny did express his hatred whenever he could. For example, every time Ranpo would come down and order something indecently sugary, Danny would make fun of it every way possible, always sure to call the detective a toddler at least once.
Ranpo was slightly more subtle yet infinitely worse with his hatred. Between passive-aggressively insulting Danny’s appearance each day (“Did you run out of hair gel?”), deciding to fucking appear behind the counter and then having the audacity to ignore him, (“Good morning, Lucy. Why am I behind the counter? Because someone got my order wrong.”), or getting an absurd amount of modifications to anything he ordered just to piss Danny off. (“Ten pumps of vanilla, four glob-globs of milk, medium, but put it in a large cup and fill the rest of the space with whipped cream.”) It worked.
Every single time.
And then that dumbass would just take his drink and hide behind that terrifying doctor lady that Danny had no choice but to treat with respect in order to avoid being dismembered.
Edogawa Ranpo was an expert at being a pain in the ass, and Danny Motta was his most effective victim.
Today was no different.
Today, yet again, the “Great Detective” strolled down the stairs to Café Uzumaki, ready to make a certain barista’s life suck.
“Motta!” Called the short disgrace to humanity.
Danny took roughly four seconds to scrape up his composure before yelling loudly, “Today I found out that we can refuse service!”
Ranpo smiled as he approached the counter, showing off his stupidly almost-perfect teeth. “Only if the customers put employees in danger.”
“Damn it,” Danny muttered under his breath, grabbing a notepad and ready to write down Ranpo’s next ridiculous request. “What do you want?”
“Half a shot of espresso-“
Danny interrupted him before he could finish the first part of his order. “Half a shot of espresso? That’s a lot, you sure you can handle it?”
Ranpo cleared his throat loudly before continuing. “Half a shot of espresso, ten pumps of caramel, five vanilla, put it all in a large cup and fill it with milk until 1-fourth of the cup is empty space, then stir it, then fill the rest of the space with whipped cream.”
“Gosh, are you feeling alright? This is the first time you’ve spoken genuine language and asked for real coffee. Go to the doctor or something, you must be sick.”
“Just give me my coffee or I’m not giving you a tip.”
Ranpo never gave him tips. He knew this.
But Danny didn’t want to get fired.
So he started making the detective’s “coffee.”
When he handed Ranpo his drink, he muttered a quiet “thanks” and walked away.
Danny’s insult died on his tongue as he blinked in confusion.
Ranpo never thanked him. The most he’d ever do to acknowledge Danny’s service was pay for his drink. Maybe the detective was ill.
---
“…and so I made his stupid drink, and he thanked me. He never thanks me. I swear to God that’s not normal.”
Danny looked over at Lucy, who had been subjected to his rant. The Lucy in question had mostly just stared vacantly at Danny’s nose with raised eyebrows, occasionally nodding or muttering an “okay.” But as Danny kept staring at her, she must have realized that he was waiting for her to say something, and so she raised her head from its spot on her hand.
“Maybe he’s finally stopped being such an oblivious fuck.”
Danny blinked. “Huh?” He’d been expecting a “Danny, you’re crazy,” “Danny, stop overthinking,” “Danny, he probably just got a lecture about the underappreciation of food service workers.” He had not been expecting this.
Lucy let out a deep sigh, as though Danny was nothing more than a foolish child who would ‘understand when he got older.’ She stood up, pushed her chair back in, and began walking away. “You’ll understand eventually.”
Oh, holy shit, I was close.
Danny sighed in infinite confusion and frustration. What the ever-loving fuck was she even talking about? Oblivious to what?
---
The next few weeks were just as strange. Ranpo kept on thanking Danny, and once he’d even left a tip.
Sure, this was what a normal person would think of as common decency, but this behavior was far from normal for Edogawa Ranpo.
Every time Danny tried to ask Lucy about it (Lucy was the only worker at this café he liked talking to), he’d just get an eyeroll and a why-is-he-so-stupid sigh.
In summary, Danny was completely and utterly lost.
---
This morning started off like many others had for the past little while. Ranpo strolled into the café, ordered his insane drink, gave Danny a quick “thanks,” and began walking away.
“Okay, what’s the deal?!” Danny blurted.
Ranpo turned around in confusion. “What?”
Well, he may as well finish. “Why are you suddenly showing basic human decency?”
The detective opened his eyes, smirking in amusement. “Because you’re funny!”
Danny blinked in confusion. “Huh?”
Ranpo’s smirk became a wide grin. “I like you. You’re funny!”
Danny’s eyes narrowed. “Funny?”
“Yep.” And with that, the ‘Great Detective’ walked away.
God, I fucking hate him.
---
“…and then he said he ‘likes me’ because I’m ‘funny.’ What the hell is that supposed to mean?!”
Lucy sighed, presumably at Danny’s sheer stupidity (as always). “Do I really need to spell it out for you?”
Danny leaned forward. “God, yes, please! I am so lost!”
“He’s trying to flirt, but he fucking sucks at it.” Lucy immediately stood up and walked away, leaving Danny alone with this insane information.
Flirting? Edogawa fucking Ranpo, flirting, with Danny Motta?
…ew.
However, something within Danny kind of enjoyed that thought. Maybe he’d entertain it for a while.
---
The next day started out just the same as all of the others. Ranpo walked into the café, coming to the counter to order.
“One medium caramel macchiato in a large cup, one-third whole milk, one-third almond milk, one-third soy milk, double the amount of vanilla syrup, caramel wall in the cup, no caramel drizzle on top, upside-down, tall cup ice, whipped cream, rounded lid, with half a shot of espresso and cinnamon sprinkled on top.” Ranpo paused for a moment, before adding, “And a chocolate croissant.”
Danny rolled his eyes with a small chuckle. “What the fuck is your problem,” he muttered.
Ranpo opened his eyes and stared into Danny’s with a grin, somewhere between sadistic and amused. “You got all that down, or shall I repeat it?”
“I’ve got it.” Danny walked back to prepare the detective’s order.
After a few minutes, the absurd drink was done. Danny brought it out to the insane customer.
“Thanks,” Ranpo said, beginning to walk away.
“Hey,” Danny called.
The detective turned around, eyes opened with interest.
“Has anyone ever told you that you’re a pain in the ass?”
A wide grin sprouted on Ranpo’s mouth. “Nonsense! Everyone who says that is a liar!” And the detective sprinted out the door, laughing loudly to himself.
“Man, I hate that guy,” Danny whispered. But he did so with an amused smile on his face.
Danny Motta and Edogawa Ranpo hated each other.
This was obvious to anyone who would watch their interactions.
However, they had settled into a sort of peace. Their insults no longer held any true hatred. It was now a simple rivalry.
And that was the way it stayed.