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Chapter Text

“Stop,” Ranpo yelled.

 “Stop him! Don’t let him write another word!”

Chapter 1

Kunikida did not enjoy company party nights.

He never did. It was always a mess he couldn’t control; and Kunikida didn’t like things he had no control over. It was an anxious interrupter of his routine.

Nonetheless, it was not his choice. Fukuzawa asked him as he did every year to arrange a night out for the Agency’s staff - detectives and assistants both. A night of drinking to celebrate the Agency’s successes and build group rapport, even though Kunikida thought that it did the exact opposite of build camaraderie.

On a rainy winter’s evening, the detectives left the Agency building in their winter coats, making a scene of themselves as they walked along the pavement. Kunikida kept his head low beneath his umbrella, walking alongside Fukuzawa at the back of the group. The only time he looked up was to wave a curt goodbye to Kenji, as they dropped the boy off at his dormitory. 

The izakaya they headed to was the same one that the Agency usually took their new recruits to for an interview. Kunikida had a good acquaintance in the owner, so it irked him all the more to bring the rowdy crowd of detectives into the establishment. 

They headed down the wet and windy streets of Yokohama, not far off of the Main Street. The cobblestone ground was slippery underfoot. The side street wherein the izakaya was, was largely full of drab office buildings, though there were neon lights and signs jutting out advertising restaurants and bars. The lights reflected in puddles of rainwater that gathered at clogged drains.

As they approached the bar, Kunikida heard a loud cheer from the front. Yosano was always drunk before they even entered - she was gesturing and talking enthusiastically with a half-empty wine bottle in one hand and her other arm around an equally rowdy Ranpo. 

Haruno was giggling fondly at the woman. The other office staff laughed together. Tanizaki was chatting with some of the clerks. Naomi was on the phone with someone and almost walked into a lamppost. Fukuzawa was silent. 

Kunikida sighed and closed his umbrella. When they were approaching the door, he shuffled to the front of the group. With such a large group, they’d booked a table, and Kunikida nodded a thank you to the woman at the desk when she led them to the back of the bar.

“I’m so hungry,” Yosano embellished as she flopped down next to the table, shoving her bag under it. 

Kunikida politely deposited his umbrella into the umbrella bucket. He sat down beside Fukuzawa and Tanizaki, who seemed a bit apprehensive to be seated across the table from Yosano. Ranpo was to her side, as was Haruno and the other office clerks. Naomi was still on the phone at the other end of the table. 

“I’ll pay for the first round,” Kunikida offered, though Fukuzawa gently shut him down with a hand to the man’s back.

“It’s alright, Kunikida-san. It’s all on me.”

There were a few cheers. 

“If you’re sure, sir,” Kunikida grimaced. The president nodded and beckoned over one of the staff. 

“Hey, Kunikida, are you alright? What’s with that sour look on your face?” Ranpo asked.

“I think he just looks like that,” Yosano said loudly. “Lighten up, Kunikida. You get to drink for free.”

“I do not wish to trouble the President,” Kunikida said, unbuttoning his jacket. “It’s polite to keep in mind how much you’re spending, especially if someone else is paying for you.”

“Boo,” Ranpo said. 

“I don’t understand why you all want to trouble the President so much.”

Ranpo frowned. “We aren’t troubling him. He offered.” 

“Well, yes,” Kunikida replied. “But that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t be mindful of how much we are making him spend.”

“Aaaargh! Relax!” Yosano said, slamming one fist down on the table. Kunikida felt Tanizaki jump and then grip onto Kunikida’s arm for dear life.

“Tanizaki-kun,” he muttered.

The boy blinked and let go. “Sorry, Kunikida.”

“Oh, that reminds me,” Yosano purred. “Hey, Tanizaki. Arm wrestle me.”

“I- I’d rather not tonight, Yosano-sensei.”

Yosano frowned dramatically. “Why not?”

“You’ve won enough times. I think you’ve proven yourself as the arm wrestling champion, haha,” the boy said. He was cowering behind the table at this point, the poor lad. 

“Come on.”

“I-“

“Do it, lad!” Ranpo exclaimed. Tanizaki seemed too shy to go against Ranpo‘s orders, so he sighed and extended a shaky hand, which Yosano grabbed immediately.

Kunikida grit his teeth in embarrassment as the waiter set down their drinks around them, with Yosano not seeming to care that she was embarrassing the Agency. He’d never say it to her face, of course, she was still his superior - but he still did his best to pretend he didn’t know them.

Haruno was clapping along happily. Naomi had appeared behind her to watch - she was still on the phone, and she’d turned on the camera so that whoever she was chatting to could watch. Poor Tanizaki , Kunikida thought.

“I’ll count you down,” Ranpo said, turning with his legs crossed around so he could watch the match better. “Keep your elbows on the table.”

Yosano grinned toothily. There was a spark in her eyes. Juni’chirou just stared ahead blankly. Perhaps he was saying a prayer.

“3, 2…” Ranpo paused for dramatic effect. “1! Go!”

As was like usual, there was an instantaneous slam. Yosano drew back and put her hands in the air victoriously, while Kunikida quietly asked a nearby staff member if they could get some extra ice. Tanizaki was silently screaming. 

“Hahaha,” Yosano laughed. “I think I might’ve cracked the table.”

Ranpo grinned. “Woops.” 

Kunikida had to restrain from rolling his eyes. There were times where he forgot that Yosano and Ranpo were two of the most intelligent doctors and detectives in Yokohama respectively. 

Yosano sighed. “I wish Odasaku wasn’t always so late. He missed my victory.”

“He’s probably busy helping an old woman across the street. Or rescuing a cat from a tree.”

Kunikida sighed. 

Yes, he’d just remembered that Odasaku-san was meant to be here as well. The man had been invited like the rest of them. Kunikida had called him earlier, while he was out on a case - Oda had just said “I’ll be there” then hung up.

Perhaps that wasn’t a lie, even if he would end up strolling in at the last minute like he usually did.

“Odasaku-san will be here soon,” Fukuzawa said. He was sipping on sake with his eyes closed. A good idea, Kunikida thought, though he would probably invest in some ear plugs as well.

“Then you’ll have to wrestle Yosano-san with your other arm so he can see.”

Tanizaki just groaned.

———

It was only a couple minutes later when Kunikida reached his limit. 

The noise of the bar was getting to him. And although he wanted to order some food, he couldn’t eat with such commotion in the background. He excused himself, buttoning his jacket back up, and made his way back out of the building.

Kunikida sighed, his breath clouding up in the air. His glasses were steaming up. He leaned his back against the front wall of the bar, under the awning with rain water drip-dripping onto his shoes. 

He wasn’t alone. There were people walking by, of course, but there was another man stood to his side. A smoker, in a long black coat and a red scarf. Bandages covered one eye. In his other hand he held a red lighter with a figure on it Kunikida couldn’t make out. 

Kunikida looked away and minded his own business. 

He absentmindedly tapped his foot on the wet cobbles. Often, his embarrassment would turn into anxiety, and he needed time to catch his breath. He didn’t want to blow up at his colleagues, even if they were being public nuisances.

He was doing fine at keeping to himself until out of the corner of his eye, he saw the smoker drop his cigarette onto the wet floor, and instead of picking it up and putting it in the bin, he stamped on it.

Kunikida couldn’t help but glare at him instinctively, but he turned his head away just as quickly. His foot-tapping sped up.

He thought he’d avoided conflict until he felt the man’s eyes burning into his side.

“Sorry,” the stranger said. His voice was annoyingly playful. “Do you want me to pick it up?”

Kunikida scoffed. “Do you want to litter?”

The man clicked his tongue. “For you, I won’t.”

Kunikida just squinted at him as the man bent down and picked up the wet cigarette butt. He took his damn time strolling across the cobble street to stub it into the ashtray, and then wandering back with his hands in his pockets. He shook himself of the raindrops, some of the droplets hitting Kunikida, who shuffled awkwardly. 

“I didn’t mean to offend.”

“You didn’t offend me. You offended the environment. It didn’t take long to put it in the bin, did it?”

The man chuckled. “I guess you’re right. My apologies.”

“Hm, good,” Kunikida crossed his arms.

“What are you doing out here?”

“I’m just catching my breath,” he said, which wasn’t exactly a lie. “It’s stuffy inside.”

“And you prefer the smell of smoke and garbage,” the stranger said. “You know, me too.”

Kunikida glared at him again, though this time, his gaze was more calculating than judgemental. “Who are you?”

Kunikida wouldn’t usually ask that question - he’d usually end the conversation there, perhaps with a “good day” and a nod. But he didn’t want to go back inside. And the man had annoyed him into being curious, somehow.

“I am Dazai Osamu,” he said, extending a hand.

Kunikida hesitated, but he shook it. Dazai’s hand was slender, soft, and very cold. Kunikida was thinking about how the man should invest in a pair of warm gloves when he noticed Dazai’s sleeve ride up a little. To Kunikida’s confusion, he saw that the man wore bandages all around his arm, from the edge of his palm downwards. 

“You have a very firm handshake, Kunikida-san.”

Kunikida didn’t remember saying his name. “Do I?”

“Yes, but it’s not very rough. So you’re not doing much manual labour then. What line of work are you in?”

“The hell are you on about?” Kunikida muttered.

“Nothing. I’m just curious,” Dazai said. He was standing very casually, like some kind of inquisitive cat, with his shoulders hunched. Kunikida had no idea why the man was so interested in him.

“I’m a detective,” he said.

“With the police?”

Kunikida made a face. “No.”

“A private investigator, then. Very interesting!”

Kunikida didn’t bother to correct him. That was close enough; or as close as he was willing to explain to someone he didn’t know. He didn’t often mention to strangers his place in the agency with special abilities. 

“What about you, then?” he asked.

“Nothing interesting. Market research analyser. I have hobbies that interest me more than my work.”

“I see.”

“I was just out for a drink tonight, you see, and maybe to ask anyone if they’d want to partake in a double suicide or a drink with me.”

Kunikida blinked. “You what?”

“You know.”

“Jesus Christ,” Kunikida rubbed his temples. The man must be insane, or drunk. Or both. “I don’t think you should drink anything else. What the hell?”

“Nah, I won’t. I’ll be heading home soon,” he said. He was looking past Kunikida, down the street. Before Kunikida could follow his gaze he said, “in fact, I’ll probably go just now.”

“Uh, alright.”

“It was nice meeting you, Kunikida-kun,” Dazai said. He took Kunikida’s hand again and shook it - when he drew back, he’d left a piece of white paper in Kunikida’s hand.

“My business card,” Dazai singsonged, already walking away. He threw a wave over his shoulder. “I’ll see you around!”

Kunikida scowled and looked at the paper. It was crumpled. And upon closer inspection, it was… an old receipt. 

Kunikida crushed it in his hand in frustration.

Moments later, he heard footsteps approaching from the other direction, and the sound of an umbrella closing.

“Hey, Kunikida.”

“Odasaku-san,” he replied. “Good to finally see you.”

“Sorry I’m late,” the man said. “Hope I’m not too late to order food.”

Kunikida didn’t bother to ask why in fact he was late. “You’re fine. Come on inside. We’re sat up at the back.”

Odasaku nodded. Kunikida guided him towards the entrance and followed him inside - though he paused for just a moment in the door, looking out into the night, to see Dazai’s silhouette pass beneath a streetlight in the distance.

What a strange man.

He headed through the curtains and shoved Dazai’s rubbish into his pocket to forget about.

Chapter Text

Chapter 2

As he trod down the rain-soaked Main Street of Yokohama, Kunikida sighed.

Earlier that morning, Kunikida had been fast asleep, after spending the remainder of the previous evening nursing a mild headache. He’d been thrown wildly off schedule by the company party night even though he had tried his best to prepare for it. Nonetheless, he was relieved to be home, and to fall asleep anticipating a good full night’s rest - until his phone rang, in the very early hours of the morning.

Kunikida woke up in shock first and foremost, before he realised that it was his phone ringing and not his alarm (not that he needed it. He always woke up on time without its help). He then felt miffed by the fact his schedule was being thrown off again by an early phone call. Stretching his arms, he reached for his bedside table and picked up his phone. For a moment in the early dawn light, he was confused by its blurriness, until he remembered to lean over and grab his glasses as well.

To his surprise, the caller was none other than Fukuzawa. Kunikida scrambled to get out of bed as if the President was about to see him in his pyjamas. He smoothed his top down and picked up the phone, clearing his throat as he waited for the call to go through.

”Kunikida?”

”Good morning, President,” Kunikida said, voice cracking. 

“Morning,” Fukuzawa replied. Kunikida could easily imagine the stoic look on his face. “I’m sorry to wake you up so early, but it’s important. Are you able to come to the Agency early this morning?”

”Of course,” Kunikida said without thinking. “But could I ask… why?”

”Ah, it might… take a moment to explain. Odasaku has been up to something. It might be better for you to just head over as soon as you can.”

Odasaku? Up to something? Kunikida wasn’t as surprised as he was annoyed.

”Yes, I’ll do just that,” he said, trying to hide the vitriol in his tone. “See you soon.”

”Good. Farewell.”

Fukuzawa hung up before Kunikida could. And for a moment, Kunikida just stood there, basking in the early morning light streaming through his shutters. Part of him wanted to ignore the call to action and bury himself back in the duvet and leave Odasaku to deal with whatever problem he’d started on his own. But when Fukuzawa asked something of him, he would never refuse. So still tired and with a burning in his chest, Kunikida squared his shoulders and began to dress as he would every morning - except at a much quicker pace.

It didn’t take him long to be out the door with his work bag slung over his shoulder, and a heavy winter coat drawn over him. As he locked his door, Kunikida straightened up his blue neck ribbon, and went on his way down the metal steps. It was raining quite heavily outside, and Kunikida could smell the wetness and the vehicle exhaust lingering in the air. 

He opened his umbrella as he neared the bottom of the stairs and took up a brisk pace along the pathway. His winter coat was slung over him. Kunikida briefly looked up to see a grey, cloudy sky, and seagulls circling in the air. He ignored the raindrops on his glasses and kept walking, his shoes clunking against the wet cobbles.

Kunikida was lucky enough to live within walking distance from the Agency. He felt relieved that he had such a fixed routine - he knew the way there like the back of his hand, and as he walked his mind went elsewhere, swirling with thoughts on what the hell Odasaku could have possibly done now.

He was such a chaos-maker for being such an aloof man. When he’d first met Odasaku, Kunikida had held him in much the same regard as he did Fukuzawa, even though the man wasn’t that much older than Kunikida himself. He seemed to have the type of personality and work ethic that Kunikida greatly respected. That was, until the first time Odasaku was hours late to work after getting caught up in climbing a tree to rescue a cat. As noble as the act was, Kunikida never understood why the man couldn’t just let the fire rescue deal with it.

Nonetheless, Fukuzawa had called upon Kunikida to help with whatever the man had started, and so that was what he would do. It wasn’t long before he rounded the corner where the Agency’s headquarter building stood. A familiar and comforting sight, despite all of the hardships he had faced there. And it seemed another hardship was awaiting him as he drew his umbrella and headed up the marble stairs, the sound of his footsteps echoing up and down the stairwell. 

Kunikida drew a breath as he approached the door to the Agency. He walked in with his head down, depositing his umbrella in the bucket and throwing his coat over the hanger before he even turned around to see what was going on.

And it was a surprising sight indeed - the room was uncharacteristically busy for being so early in the morning. It appeared Kunikida wasn’t the only one who Fukuzawa had called to work early. Many of the office staff had shown up and were chatting by the desks. Kenji was happily listening in to their conversation, and Naomi was sitting on one of the desks, busy on her phone. At his own desk, Tanizaki seemed bored, tapping his fingers on the wood and staring at the wall.

Kunikida walked over to his seat and nodded politely at the office staff. He leaned down and shoved his bag beneath the desk, and took a moment to clean his glasses off with the cloth he always kept beside his stationary. When he put his glasses back on he was surprised to see Ranpo, standing in the hallway door frame, leaning against the wall. 

“Ranpo-san,” Kunikida said. “I’m surprised to see you here.”

”Ugh,” Ranpo groaned. “I wish I wasn’t. I’m tired. I want to go back to bed.”

”Whatever Odasaku-san has been up to must be quite serious if the President brought you here too. It’s unlike him to do something this uncalled for.”

”I told him to leave me alone and let me sleep, but he kept on phoning me.”

Kunikida would be shocked if anyone else had told him they’d tried to ignore Fukuzawa, but when it came to Ranpo, it wasn’t much of a surprise. Everyone in the Agency knew very well that Fukuzawa had practically been raising Ranpo for many years now.

”Still…” Kunikida muttered.

Ranpo was about to say something else when he was shoved forward by a woman in a long white lab coat - Yosano. She laughed and came to stand beside Ranpo, who muttered as he picked up his cap that had fallen off and put it back on. He grinned and nudged her with his elbow. 

“Good morning, Kunikida. Feeling bright-eyed and bushy tailed? Ready to take on the day?” she said, giving him a wave. Kunikida nodded. 

“I’m well enough,” he said.

”I’m not too pleased to be here so early either, but duty calls,” Yosano sighed dramatically. “I was even kind enough to walk dear Ranpo here.”

Ranpo glared at her. ”Fukuzawa made you come and get me.”

”And I did just what he asked. I know, I’m so kind.”

”You can be when you try really, really hard.”

Yosano just rolled her eyes and walked into the main office room, Ranpo following a moment later. Kunikida couldn’t help but roll his eyes just a little. Yosano too had been close with Fukuzawa and Ranpo since before Kunikida had even joined the Agency - it was only natural for them to act like the siblings they had become.

”Yosano-sensei, do you know what it is that we’ve all been called to deal with?”

”Your guess is as good as mine I’m afraid, Kunikida,” she shrugged, sitting down on her swivel chair. Ranpo had also made his way over to his desk and buried his head in his arms as if trying to fall back asleep right then and there.

Kunikida inhaled deeply and sighed, but his moment of relaxation was cut off by another presence walking into the room. He scrambled to straighten his posture as Fukuzawa himself finally emerged from his office and walked into the main room, commanding everyone’s attention with his appearance.

”Good morning, President,” said Haruno, who was followed by faint mumbles of the same from the rest of the office staff, who were all equally exhausted-looking.

”Morning,” Fukuzawa nodded. “I appreciate you all arriving here so early. I hope you know I wouldn’t ask such a thing if it wasn’t important.”

”Of course,” Kunikida said.

”Yes, we get that it’s important,” Yosano said. “But isn’t all of us coming here a little bit… excessive, no?”

”I think it’s important that we are all here. You’ll see.”

Just then, another phone rang. Kunikida checked to see if it was his own, but it was Fukuzawa who retrieved a ringing phone from his pocket and flipped it open. The room went very quiet to let him speak. 

“Mhm… alright… that’s good.”

Kunikida, as always, couldn’t really read the President’s expression. But the call was short, and as Fukuzawa flipped the phone shut again, Kunikida’s ear caught the sound of another pair of footsteps ambling up the stairwell outside - as they got closer, they paused. 

“It’s Odasaku,” Fukuzawa said. “Why don’t you all step back a little?”

Kunikida frowned, but did just that. He got up from his seat and shuffled back into the gathered crowd of office workers and the other detective who were all staring curiously at Odasaku's looming shadow behind the stained glass in the door.

There was another moment of silence. It made the situation seem much more serious - Kunikida felt goosebumps on the back of his neck as he watched the door handle slowly go down and pop back up again.

In walked Odasaku - but he was not alone.

The man himself was as calm looking as ever, despite the fact that in his arms, he was carrying a person; a skinny, young boy, who looked fast asleep. 

There were a few more moments of silence while minds processed what they were looking at. Kunikida turned his head just slightly to see Kenji spring up onto his feet, mouth agape. The office staff whispered in hushed tones to each other. Yosano looked unsettled - Ranpo just looked annoyed. 

“Fukuzawa…” Yosano began, but he gave her a sharp look that made her close her mouth.

”This will all be explained in due time,” he said. “However, first, Odasaku told me the boy is injured. Yosano, can you please treat him?”

Yosano frowned and looked to Odasaku, who nodded. “He’s really skinny. I don’t think he’s eaten substantially in a long time… who knows what’s going on internally, but he has a lot of wounds and bruises.”

”I’m not going to use my ability on him unless I have to,” she said, crossing her arms.

”You don’t need to.”

She sighed. “Then fine. Carry him into my office. And then come back out here and explain what the hell is going on.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 3

“Are we sure that this is a good idea?”

“We aren’t. But that’s why the entrance exam exists.”

Kunikida sat with his arms crossed, chair turned around to face the other members of the Agency, who all looked equally roused by the situation. Yosano was still absent - as was Odasaku, who was with her - and had been for a while now. 

Was the boy that sick? 

“And speaking of the exam,” Fukuzawa began. “We are going to need to figure out how to approach it. And though I have my ideas, I appreciate all of your input.”

“Why do I need to be here?” Ranpo complained. 

“Because though unconventional, you have good ideas. And I felt it was important for us all to be here when we are considering who could be a new member of the Agency in the future.”

“What even is his Ability?” Kunikida chimed in with a frown.

“It’s quite powerful, as Odasaku told me,” Fukuzawa said. Though he was as stone-faced as ever, Kunikida could detect a slight uncertainty in his voice as he continued. “It can be used both offensively and defensively.”

“In what way’s he powerful?” Kenji asked. The boy didn’t seem too perturbed by the situation - he was sat on his desk, swinging his legs casually.

“His Ability materialises from his clothing. Sharp, like blades. Rough and jagged. It has a head that takes the form of some kind of demon-dragon. Oda-kun took the boy by surprise at one point, and his Ability materialised almost instantly. If it were anyone other than Odasaku, they would have been dismembered.”

Kunikida felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

“Goodness,” Haruno muttered, nervously adjusting her glasses.

“Even if his Ability is so powerful… that doesn’t mean he is a fit for the Agency,” Kunikida said.

“Yes. But Odasaku said he was focused on one thing; protecting another child, his sibling. And if the boy has that caring nature in him, we will nurture it, and show him that he can be a protector - rather than a destroyer.”

Kunikida blinked. He couldn’t argue with that.

“And, Ranpo,” Fukuzawa said. “If he knows that you can discern most anything about him - then perhaps he will show us some respect.”

———

The next day, Kunikida hardly felt better about the situation. 

The President had decided yesterday on how the entrance exam would be set up for the boy; whose name had finally been coaxed out of him by Odasaku. Akutagawa. Kunikida felt unsure about putting the name to his face.

Anyhow, he had a job to do. He still hadn’t quite recovered from having his schedule interrupted when he had to interrupt it more, waking up at the crack of dawn before the sun had even risen. Although preferable to waking up late, Kunikida still felt a little shaken.

This was a transitional moment for the Agency, and therefore for Kunikida too. But it wasn’t his first experience with Agency entrance exams. Yes, apart from his own, he had been at the Agency when Yosano and Ranpo were the only detectives aside from Fukuzawa himself. 

Kunikida never brought it up, but he had felt slightly othered back then - especially when new members joined the Agency, and he was no longer the black sheep in what had become a small family. He’d always viewed the President, Yosano and Ranpo as his superiors, and the subsequent members of the Agency as his juniors.

But his ability to work so well with them - despite the times they drove him crazy - was just another reason why Kunikida knew he belonged here. Even though it never stopped his mind from wandering and considering what things would be like if he had taken another path.

Kunikida shook himself. He needed to stay on track. As he did every morning, he made his bed, and brushed his teeth meticulously, putting on the water to boil while he dressed. His eyes were still bleary with sleep. 

He quickly gulped down the steaming hot cup of tea, put on his shoes and picked up his bag, and slipped his coat over his shoulders.

When he stepped outside, it was another overcast day. It was quite warm despite the grey skies. There was a certain humidity in the air, but Kunikida was glad for the lack of rain. He trotted down the stairs and towards the street, breathing in the smell of the wet pavement and dewy grass. 

Towards the Main Street he went, weaving through crowds of people; mothers with their young children, groups of school kids, other adults like him on their way to work. Yokohama was such a busy place, and although Kunikida knew he seemed like the type of person to enjoy tranquillity, he wouldn’t change his city for the world.

He had seen so many parts of it thanks to his job. The good parts, and the bad parts. Many people who had changed his perspective on life. He had found his passion and his duty here. Though sometimes, that duty prevented him from living exactly the way he desired.

Yes, Kunikida of course intended to meet all of his ideals. But some of them take time. And new factors were always coming into his life that he had to account for. Many factors; such as that of the ache in his stomach.

Kunikida came to a halt all of a sudden, almost colliding with an older woman, to whom he promptly apologised, then kept on walking briskly. With all the change in his routine, he’d forgotten to make breakfast. Not a big deal, he thought, only the most crucial meal of the day. Great. Now everything was completely off track.

He steadied himself. He still had a job to do, and today of all days was an important one. He was not just depending on himself this time. The café below the Agency wouldn’t be open yet. So with a frantic gait, he turned the corner onto one of the main streets, and looked around.

His eyes scanned the shop fronts, but he couldn’t find what he needed - until he caught a pleasant whiff of something, and turned his head to see a rather quaint but nice-looking café. 

With a sigh of relief, Kunikida straightened himself up and headed towards the front.

Without an umbrella to dump today, he went straight to the line. He wasn’t going to spend any more time here than he needed to. A quick bowl of soup, and he would be at least a little back on track. Kunikida knew he wouldn’t be able to get through today without a meal. 

As he waited, tapping his foot against the tile floor, he spotted something across the café.

Or rather, someone - a familiar someone, with dark hair and a laid-back stance, sitting at a table and absentmindedly stirring a stick in a cup of coffee.

Kunikida blinked. 

He’d fully never expected to see this man again - Dazai, as he remembered. That entire night felt very distant to Kunikida; he’d been lost in his own thoughts most of the day. But he of course could not forget such a strange encounter with such a strange man. It felt wrong to see him out in the open, in public, just sitting there.

Kunikida snapped back to reality when he felt the gaze of someone else burning into his back. He murmured a quick apology and hurried to order, still tap-tap-tapping his foot even faster now as he waited for his bowl of soup. He paid just as quickly, picking up his tray and walking away squarely.

For just one second, he considered seating himself across from Dazai in the empty seat. But Kunikida refused to entertain that thought and instead headed for another table near the window, keeping his eyes on his food and not looking up until he was swinging his coat over the back of his chair. 

He thought that was it, until he heard the voice of Dazai to his side, and Kunikida breathed in and out a deep sigh before turning to face the man.

“Fancy meeting you here!” Dazai said, waving one finger at a time from where he sat. His coat was also slung over his chair, and Kunikida saw his bag tucked beneath. He was still holding the stick in one hand, but was stirring the air now.

”Good morning,” Kunikida said simply. “Nice place for breakfast.”

”Yes, it is,” Dazai said. “What brings you here?”

”Uh… breakfast,” Kunikida blinked. He saw Dazai stop himself before speaking again, and instead put one finger up. He stood up and began leaning down to fetch his belongings.

”Oh no, you don’t need to-“

”Mind if I sit?” Dazai said, already very clearly intent on sitting. 

“I suppose,” Kunikida replied through gritted teeth as Dazai parked himself right across from Kunikida, shuffling his bag between both of their feet. 

Dazai tapped his fingers on the table as Kunikida glared.

”How did your night of drinking end up going?”

”Fine,” Kunikida said, leaning down to take a mouthful of his soup. “We didn’t stay much longer than you did.”

”You were there with just your one friend?”

”Hm? Ah, no,” Kunikida shrugged. “It was a company party. Drinks were on our President.”

”I see,” Dazai hummed. “That sounds nice. Though I can understand taking a break from the business of that all.”

“No fault of their own,” said Kunikida. “I just needed a moment to myself. And we were waiting for another person.”

Dazai nodded.

”Are you… off to work as well?” Kunikida tried.

”Hm? Oh, yes,” Dazai shrugged. “I don’t like going straight there. It’s nice to take some time for yourself in the morning, no?”

”I suppose. I’m busy today, which is why I am here, and so early.”

”Sounds tiresome,” Dazai murmured. Kunikida would protest, but he couldn’t exactly disagree with the man.

”Being tired at the end of the day means you did your job,” Kunikida stated.

”What does it mean when you’re tired all the time?”

”Well,” Kunikida fixed his glasses. “I guess that would mean that you’re sleep deprived.”

”Hey, I wasn’t talking about myself, Kunikida-kun!” Dazai said, with a dramatic hand gesture. Kunikida raised his eyebrow at the familiarity with which Dazai said his name. He didn’t enjoy it when people he hardly knew were so friendly with him. But he supposed that Dazai wasn’t doing any harm, for the time being. 

Kunikida took another spoonful of soup, and checked his watch while doing so. “If you are sleep deprived, you should take care of that,” he said after swallowing, “it’s no laughing matter. Perhaps see a doctor if you’re having trouble sleeping.”

”Ah, I don’t know any doctors,” Dazai said.

”So… make an appointment with s-“

”Do you suppose I can fix it by just skipping a few nights of sleep?”

”Absolutely not,” Kunikida said firmly. For some reason, Dazai smiled a little at his snappy tone. “That doesn’t make sense. The obvious thing to do would be to try and sleep earlier.”

”But that’s boring, no?”

”I think you should perhaps address your schedule if you find yourself being bored with natural human activities.”

”Kunikida, you’re such a stickler for the rules,” Dazai yawned.

”Not rules. Just common sense,” Kunikida shrugged. “Really, if you’re so tired, why not just try and rest more?”

Dazai sniffed. “I suppose that’s just not how I work. Perhaps I’m incompatible with normal human activities. Such is life.”

Kunikida felt a pang of emotion at his words.

”You’ll figure it out,” he said.

”You’re so kind,” Dazai grinned. Kunikida grimaced. “I appreciate your advice.”

”It’s no problem,” Kunikida said. He was glad that Dazai seemed to be trying to end the conversation; Kunikida had finished his meal now, and he began to reach back for his coat. 

“You know,” Dazai started. “Your outfit suits you, Kunikida-kun, but have you ever thought about trying a black blouse? And perhaps red would suit you, more than the blue ribbon.”

“I’m sorry?” Kunikida made a face, glaring at Dazai as he slipped on his coat. “Where in the world did that come from? My work uniform is of no concern to you.”

”Geez, I was just sharing my opinion,” Dazai rolled his eyes. 

“What are you, some kind of artist? Fashion designer?”

”Market,” Dazai said. “Research.”

”Well, perhaps stick to that.”

“I suppose…” Dazai sighed as Kunikida stood up, pulling the strap of his bag over his shoulder. 

Though he was miffed by Dazai’s words - and demeanour, and everything else - he wouldn’t just sprint away from a conversation. He glanced down at his watch. He was running late enough already, having been distracted by Dazai, but he swallowed his doubts and sighed once more.

”I hope you resolve your tiredness,” he said. 

Dazai smiled at him over his shoulder. He seemed grateful for Kunikida’s words. 

“Thank you,” he said. “I’ll let you get on with your day. See you later.”

Kunikida gave a curt nod. “See you.”

And with that, he walked off, though not before glancing behind one last time to see Dazai still gazing towards him, waving a goodbye as Kunikida headed out the door. And Kunikida couldn’t ignore that - he stepped back, and waved, before walking off once again.

As he walked past the window, headed off towards the Agency’s headquarters, he caught a glimpse of Dazai; who did not see him, for his head was down, too busy buried in his hands to acknowledge Kunikida.

Kunikida blinked, paused, and then kept on walking. 

Chapter Text

Chapter 4

Kunikida was nervous.

Later, at the Agency, he stood amongst the crowd of his coworkers. There was a sense of anticipation and anxiety in the air; Fukuzawa stood before them all, but despite his reassurances, everybody seemed unsure.

Yesterday had been long and exhausting. Kunikida hadn’t lied when he told Dazai it was a particularly busy day ahead. It was always nerve wracking when a new member came to join the Agency, but when that potential new member was clearly unbothered in striking someone down at a moment’s notice, there came a certain tension with them.

Despite that, everything was in place.

Everyone had stood around Odasaku as he called the boy. “It’s me, Oda.” He had said. “Did you sleep well?”

Kunikida couldn’t hear Akutagawa’s response, but he watched Odasaku hum and nod. “I see,” he had said, scratching his temple. “Hey, I need you to go someplace for me. It’s not far from your dorm. The Armed Detective Agency Headquarters, on the fourth floor. Can you do that?”

There was more humming and nodding, before Odasaku mumbled a goodbye and snapped his phone shut, putting it into his pocket. He walked up to his desk and leaned against it. “He said he’ll leave now. Suppose he has nothing else to do.”

”I’m not sure about this,” Haruno spoke up. A few people nodded alongside her.

”There’s only one way to find out if this will work,” Fukuzawa said.

Tanizaki groaned, looking down at his hands, in which he held a fake detonator. 

“You’ll be fine, Tanizaki-kun. We won’t let you or Naomi be hurt.”

”I’m not that worried,” Naomi said, her arms crossed. “I just hope Akutagawa doesn’t… you know, skewer anyone.”

“Naomi, if he skewers anyone, it’s going to be me!” Tanizaki protested. Naomi rolled her eyes at him.

”You’ll live,” Kunikida said. “Besides, it’s me who has to explain the ‘situation’ to him. I will do my best to keep him calm and hopefully make him cooperate.”

”Thank you, Kunikida-kun,” Fukuzawa nodded. 

“Geez,” Kenji said. “I hope Akutagawa-san will do well. It would be nice to have him join us.”

”One can only pray to achieve your level of positivity, Kenji,” Yosano murmured.

”Thanks!”

”In any case…” Odasaku coughed. “We should get ready.”

”Indeed,” Fukuzawa said, stepping forward. “If you don’t mind - I think we should get into position now. Kunikida, are you sure you’re alright with meeting him first?”

”Yessir,” Kunikida said with confidence. “I’ll do my best.”

And so, notebook in hand, Kunikida headed for the front door of the Agency - nodding at the crowd of his onlooking coworkers, before pulling the heavy door shut behind him.

———

There were footsteps, and Kunikida threw his back against the wall, putting on an anxious expression.

It had only been ten minutes since Odasaku had made the call. But now, here Akutagawa was, taking his time to climb the marble stairs of the Agency’s headquarters. Out of the corner of his eye Kunikida saw the boy round the top of the stairwell, his hands in the pockets of a dark grey coat.

Kunikida sighed. When Akutagawa caught sight of him, Kunikida met his stone cold gaze.

”Who are…”

”Akutagawa,” said the boy curtly. 

“Ah, you’re Akutagawa - I heard about you. I know this is sudden. But I need help.”

He blinked. ”What is it?”

”It’s an emergency. A mad bomber’s holed up in our Agency. And he’s taken a hostage.”

Ugh…

I can’t. I can’t TAKE it anymore! This is all your fault. This is all the Armed Detective Agency’s fault. 

Where’s your boss? Get him out here. Now, or—

When Akutagawa slipped past Kunikida and opened the door without hesitation, Kunikida could only stand there with his mouth agape until his senses caught up to him. He swiftly followed the boy inside, anxiously standing behind as Akutagawa confidently stood in front of their ‘mad bomber’ and his hostage.

”Hey-“ Kunikida began, but Tanizaki seemed to have it under control.

”Who the hell are you?” Tanizaki spat, with a harshness that surprised Kunikida. “Stay away from me! If you don’t, I’ll blow this whole damn building sky-high.”

”Someone, help me…” Naomi said dramatically. She wasn’t as good an actor as her brother, but it hopefully didn’t clue in Akutagawa - who, all of a sudden, began marching forward with such confidence that Kunikida almost automatically jumped to grab a weapon with his notebook. 

“W-woah! Hold it! I said to stay back!” Tanizaki hissed, shuffling backwards. “Don’t you see this detonator in my hand? Did you hear me? I’ll kill all of you if you don’t back up!”

He froze, as Akutagawa too came to a stop before him. The boy’s back was turned to Kunikida, but he could tell that his gaze was intimidating from the way Tanizaki cowered before him.

”What’s with you?” He said breathlessly.

”I am just a random passerby,” Akutagawa began. “I was told I could find work if I came here. But before that… I guess that I must chase out this street comedian first.”

Tanizaki opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by a flash of light and a terrifying crash as Akutagawa activated his Ability. His coat-tails became like ribbons, sharper than any blade, and in a moment’s notice the fake bomb was ripped to shreds before their very eyes before Tanizaki could even pretend to detonate it.

Kunikida ran forward.

”That’s enough!” He said, placing a firm hand on the boy’s shoulder. 

“You’re siding with the bomber?” Akutagawa said, looking back at him with more curiosity than shock. 

“Not at all,” Kunikida said. “At least, if he was a bomber.”

Tanizaki was on the floor, his hands in the air, sweating like he’d just run a mile.

“W-wait, haha! I give up! I give up!”

Akutagawa’s expression changed just the slightest. “Anyways,” Kunikida sighed. “It’s fine now.”

As the dust cleared, the office staff who had been standing cowering at the sidelines began to return to their desks, and the other detectives appeared from the other hallway to the President’s office. Naomi rose to her feet and dusted off her skirt, throwing the rag that gagged her into the bin. 

”That wasn’t so bad, brother,” she said, offering him a hand up.

“Remind me never to agree to this again,” Tanizaki groaned, taking it.

Akutagawa’s brows furrowed. “Her… brother?”

”Yes. They’re both employees of the Armed Detective Agency, as am I. 

The bomb was a fake. In other words; this was a sort of Entrance Examination.”

———

“I’m truly sorry!”

Kunikida sat at the end of the table as Tanizaki grovelled, bowing his head down to an uncaring Akutagawa, sitting across from him with his arms stiffly folded. Kunikida held back an exasperated sigh.

”I’m sorry!”

Silence from Akutagawa.

”I’m really sorry about yesterday,” Tanizaki said, taking a breath. “I know it was a test, but I still pretended to threaten people’s lives… are you angry with me…?”

Akutagawa lowered his head just slightly. 

There went Naomi, giving her brother a hearty pat - or rather thump - on the back. If it was supposed to be one of sympathy, it just made Tanizaki yell and sit back up in pain. He hissed at her, and Naomi looked away, pretending to be busy on her phone.

Kunikida turned his gaze away from them and towards Akutagawa. “Hey, rookie. Can’t you just say something? You passed your exam - meaning that Tanizaki here is your coworker from now on. You can’t just do nothing but glare at him for the rest of your life.”

In saying so, Kunikida was met with his own ice-cold glare from Akutagawa that made him gulp. To his side, Tanizaki was trying to whisper under his breath at the man.

”What should we do, Kunikida-san?” He said. “This new guy’s totally pissed. We threatened him with the bomb and the hostage… he’s gonna kill us, isn’t he?”

Kunikida fixed his glasses. “Don’t be silly. It was all an act - it’s a necessary test to join our ranks. He passed. Kind of. And besides, even if he turned on us, there’s no way he could outclass two seasoned employees. What’s more…” Kunikida looked away. “His anger is pointed at you, Tanizaki, and not me.”

”Kunikida-san?” Tanizaki blinked.

“I can’t accept this,” came Akutagawa’s hoarse voice. He lifted a finger, and pointed at Naomi. “That girl there, who played the hostage, is your younger sister, yes?”

”Huh? Yeah, this is my sister, Naomi.” The girl gave him a one-handed wave.

Akutagawa lifted his glass of water and took a sip. ”You should treat her better.”

Tanizaki opened his mouth and shut it. Naomi let out a cough that was clearly meant to hide her laughter. 

“What? Is this because I threatened her as the hostage? That’s the only reason why you’re angry?”

Akutagawa nodded. 

Naomi uncrossed her arms and addressed Akutagawa. “That’s nice of you, rookie, but you don’t need to worry. It was a team effort. In reality, Tanizaki is a good brother to me. We take care of each other just fine.”

Tanizaki seemed to want to point out his aching back.

”I see,” Akutagawa muttered. “It appears I jumped to conclusions, then.”

As he was speaking, the waitress of the café approached their table. Kunikida regarded her with a polite nod. Akutagawa raised his hand to her. “Can I have some sweet red bean soup and houjicha?”

”Of course,” she smiled. “I’ll be over with that right away.” 

Akutagawa gave a nod, and took another sip from his glass as she walked away.

So he wasn’t glaring… that’s just his normal face.

As Kunikida looked at Akutagawa, then around the table, then at his watch, he suddenly sighed and rolled his eyes. Someone was missing. “Why is that man not here yet? It’s long past the appointed time. Honestly… the very man who picks up a near-starved orphan by the river and suggests him for our agency, just abandons him?”

”It’s true that he can be hard to predict at times,” Naomi said. “But when I contacted him a moment ago, he said he’d be here in five. Let’s wait a little longer.”

”I think the only reason you get along so well with Odasaku is because you’re both so leisurely.”

”Hey, I don’t work with you guys officially,” Naomi growled. “I’m the best volunteer that you could ask for. Don’t get it twisted.”

It was Tanizaki’s turn to roll his eyes. 

“Wait, you say…” Kunikida said through his teeth. 

There was silence.

“Um, Akutagawa-san,” Tanizaki said. “I… did you wanna order anything else?”

”Not really.”

“Um…”

More silence.

“Say, Akutagawa-san,” Naomi saved the conversation, leaning back in her chair. “What were you doing before this? You know, before joining the Agency?”

Tanizaki looked relieved, and Naomi gave him a knowing glare, to which he shook his head.

“My past…” Akutagawa said, staring at her. “Is like a withered leaf, a piece of gravel. I had no place, no work to speak of. I wandered the slums attempting to survive each day. In terms of belongings, I had absolutely nothing.”

”Oh,” Naomi said, shrinking a little. 

“What about your likes and dislikes?” Tanizaki tried, picking fabric from his chair. Kunikida shot the boy a stinging glare, making him fiddle with the sleeves of his sweater instead.

”None to speak of,” Akutagawa replied plainly.

Tanizaki gulped. “Erm, but if you had to name some?”

”If I had to? Well,” the black-haired boy looked thoughtful for a moment. “For things I like, there’s tea, figs, and red bean soup. And if I had to name my dislikes, they would be fava beans, mandarin oranges… and stray dogs.”

”Ahaha, I hear you,” Tanizaki said. “You can find some enormous stray dogs around this area. If they start barking at you out of nowhere, that can really startle anyone, huh?”

”Indeed. One nearly bit off my arm as I was resting in my slum hideout. I woke up in the nick of time and fled… but I’ve not been very good with dogs ever since.”

Kunikida sucked a breath of air through his teeth. Tanizaki looked a little constipated. “Oh, I see. You had it tough.”

”No, it’s not a rare story in the slums I lived in. One of my friends was ripped apart by dogs. Of course, I responded by exterminating all of the dogs in the vicinity afterward, but…”

“I see…”

“But let me ask you,” Akutagawa continued. “What were your pasts like? What did you do before joining the Agency?”

Kunikida was quite relieved to see the boy engaging in conversation properly now. 

Naomi felt the same. “That’s a really good question,” she said.

”It’s actually a standard question,” Tanizaki nodded. 

“Yes, remember the ‘guess our past’ game?” Naomi added.

”Yeah, we do that with all the rookies. The past of Oda-san - the man who picked you up, Akutagawa - is a real tricky one. Nobody can guess it. The prize for doing so has gone up to seven hundred thousand yen now.”

Tanizaki opened his mouth to speak once more. It seemed he was going to ask Akutagawa their time-honoured traditional questions, but they were interrupted by the waitress returning to their table with Akutagawa’s tray in hand.

Kunikida glanced down, and not a moment later, there was a fierce flash and sharp movement from the corner of his eye. He leaped back in his seat as the same tangled coat-tails from earlier slashed across his field of view. Kunikida yelled, and with a flick of the wrist reached for his notebook, before he realised that Akutagawa hadn’t tried to strike her.

In fact, he held the tray with his Ability, handing it politely back to the waitress, who looked understandably frazzled herself.

“Watch where you step. Did that burn anyone?” he asked nonchalantly.

Tanizaki was looking to Kunikida for directions. Kunikida let himself calm down and sat back in his seat. That blood lust of his, he thought, I thought he was going to take off the waitress’s head.

Akutagawa… he made it past the entrance exam, but that doesn’t mean he’s one of us just yet. It’s true he brought the mad bomber down quickly, but he didn’t de-escalate the situation as he should have. To become an employee, you need a drive for protecting others. It’s the President’s policy. 

Kunikida looked at the Tanizaki siblings. Both of them looked unsure as Akutagawa spoke kindly to the waitress, who was thanking him profusely. Akutagawa knows he was being tested now. We can’t redo his exam - we’ll just have to test him more in his first job… and I suppose it’s our mission to determine if he’s a fit. 

What was Odasaku thinking?

There was a ding. Tanizaki turned his head to the noise and smiled nervously. “Oh! Welcome back! You’re a little late, Oda-san.”

With all the commotion, Kunikida had forgotten the very man they were waiting on. Odasaku walked into the café with his hands in his pockets, casual, as if he’d not been so unfathomably late to their meeting. Kunikida stood up and slammed his hands down on the desk.

“How long were you going to stand up our new candidate, Oda? What on earth were you doing?”

Oda clicked his tongue and looked away.

”Oh, just chatting.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 5

After the fact, Kunikida owed the waitress an apology, and the café manager a good couple of tens of thousands of yen in property damages.

Having a good record of patronage with the Uzumaki certainly softened the blow, but such an avoidable circumstance left Kunikida nursing a stress headache and a mind heavy with thoughts and confusion. 

After Odasaku had finally arrived at the café, it was rather easy to tell that there was a sort of tension between the man and the boy that he had brought to them. But it became clear that Akutagawa did respect Oda, in his own way; and perhaps it was a good thing that Kunikida was not the one always at the end of Akutagawa’s blade.

And speaking of that blade - one thing that was clear about the boy was that he needed to learn to use his Ability not just for violence. He had rambled on about battle skills and being ready to fight in any circumstance. Such a sentiment just reminded Kunikida of the rough childhood that the boy had had so far.

Life would be a lot easier if my foes were all in training rooms, Akutagawa had said. Kunikida had raised a brow. Odasaku was the one who replied, his arms crossed and his gaze neutral.

”He has two people he wants to kill.”

Kunikida didn’t know what to make of it, and he did not have time to figure out his thoughts at that moment, for Akutagawa spoke up once more. “One of them is a man that I know nothing about.” 

“I just call him the man in black… the one who kidnapped my younger sibling, those years ago. He was the one that took them from me. I must defeat him and get them back.”

And it started to make sense then. 

Akutagawa had no idea where his sibling was. But nonetheless, he had sworn to find her. Kunikida had felt a chill creeping up his spine at realising the scope of Akutagawa’s situation. What had they stumbled into? How did he even lose them in the first place? It wasn’t like Kunikida could find out much about the rookie without asking - as the boy had said, he’d grown up in the slums with nothing other than his family to keep him company.

But - Naomi was the one who triumphantly raised her hand and informed Akutagawa of the great detective, the Agency’s beating heart; Edogawa Ranpo. 

Naomi had jumped to introduce them immediately, but Kunikida had to remind her that they had to answer to the café owners, first of all.

And so it had been decided that Akutagawa would find a way to get this information from Ranpo, by securing the approval of each member of the Agency.

Kunikida was unsure. But he trusted Ranpo’s words. Even more so, when he’d listened to the detective explain that he knew of Akutagawa’s motive to find his sibling beforehand. Ranpo knew that his assistance would be needed. Kunikida found it strange that Ranpo even bothered to show up if he knew he was going to be asked of such a thing - but when he explained the President’s involvement, it made more sense; despite a kind of unsureness in Ranpo’s demeanour that only seemed to grow.

But the plan was in motion now. Akutagawa had made peace with the Tanizaki siblings, and although Kunikida wasn’t sure how well the boy’s excursion with Kenji would go, it wasn’t his decision. What was his decision however, was how Kunikida himself would find a way to truly gauge Akutagawa’s worth to the Agency.

Kunikida believed in the worth of the person before their Ability more than anyone else. How could he not, with Ranpo being his coworker from the start? But worth to the Agency meant worth to the public, and to their safety. It was something he had begun to take even more seriously after the past few years. 

Kenji’s work with Akutagawa was going to take some time. And so sitting on the couch in the lounge of the Detective Agency, Kunikida tapped his pen against the cover of his notebook and thought hard. 

Beyond his surface level understanding of Akutagawa, there were assumptions. He knew much more about the boy than he did upon their first meeting, but he was still just as mysterious. 

He recalled the look on the rookie’s face when Ranpo had told him that his sibling was indeed alive. And Akutagawa had been shocked; something that made Kunikida cringe. What happened to make him unsure if his sibling was alive or dead? What had happened to his parents? If his past was nothing to speak of, then why did it seem to linger so?

Had Akutagawa witnessed death? He’d spoken of having to defend himself in the slums. And that, paired with the care with which he spoke about his younger sibling, confirmed to Kunikida that there was indeed a way that Akutagawa could find a place in the Agency. Such criteria were a large part of his notebook, filed in between the sections regarding his ideal work partner and his ideal stationary for traditionally recording his notes on the job. 

In truth, Kunikida felt embarrassed sometimes by how much he cared about the quality of the Agency’s members. He wasn’t the boss here - it wasn’t his say. And he would never have it any other way, thanks to the guidance of President Fukuzawa. He could imagine the way his face would flush if anyone else read his notebook. But the ADA was everything to Kunikida; he put his back into his work and into caring for his coworkers. And perhaps the thought of another member of their group to care for was part of what deterred Kunikida.

The man sighed deeply as he stopped tapping his pen and looked up, head resting on one hand. Kunikida’s instinct was to see how well that Akutagawa could work with him personally; after all, the Agency was a rather small group, and his ability to work in harmony with his fellow members would be crucial. But it would have to be personal to Akutagawa in a way, too.

Perhaps, he should try and find out more about this “man in black”.

As he was beginning to get lost in his thoughts again, Kunikida heard footsteps approaching. He knew from the click-clacking of the heels that it was Yosano before she even peeked her head around the corner. She had a steaming cup of tea in one hand and her phone in the other. Kunikida stood up and put his notebook in his pocket as she came over.

”Yosano-sensei,” Kunikida nodded. “How’s your lunch break going?”

”Eh, fine, thanks,” she replied. “Hey, Kunikida, the President asked me to come and get you. I think he has a job for you.”

Kunikida blinked. “Did you see him call anyone else?”

”Mm, no. I wouldn’t be surprised if you need to do something alone since Kenji and Akutagawa are away at the moment. Don’t worry about it; it didn’t seem like anything serious. You know how Fukuzawa is.”

Kunikida trusted that Yosano could read Fukuzawa better than anyone else, so he gave her another nod. “I’ll get on that right away.”

”Always the hard-worker,” Yosano said. Kunikida couldn’t quite read her tone. “You ought to slow it down a little.”

”I’m doing just fine,” Kunikida asserted. “Thanks for letting me know, Yosano-sensei.”

Yosano rolled her eyes and gave him a humorous salute with her phone in hand, and continued on, leaving Kunikida to briskly make his way towards the President’s office.

He briefly stopped at his desk to grab his bag and greet the office ladies who were chatting nearby. Ranpo was nowhere to be seen, and both Tanizaki siblings were both busy typing away on their laptops, their lunches half-eaten beside them. Kunikida couldn’t be angry with them for spending their break playing games, but he wished that more of his coworkers would take initiative and do some work during their… work break.

He continued down the hall. Kunikida knocked before he opened Fukuzawa’s door. 

“Kunikida,” Fukuzawa regarded him. 

“What can I assist with, President?”

“Come over and sit,” Fukuzawa said. For stuck a fierce-looking man, his voice was quite warm and welcoming. Kunikida only felt nervous on his own behalf as he did so, and sat down neatly opposite the older man.

“I received a phone call from a resident that lives a few train stops away,” he began. “He told me that he was calling us because the local police weren’t taking him seriously.”

That was often the case in which the Agency received new jobs.

“He is an older man, and he’s worried about someone breaking into his store. He owns a clothes store and has been having trouble lately with somebody hanging around the area and littering at night. So much stress can’t be good for him. As mentioned, he is an elderly gentleman, and he’s concerned he won’t be able to confront this individual himself. I imagine he hopes that one of us can do that for him.”

“I see,” Kunikida said, adjusting his glasses. “That would be no problem for me to handle. Shall I head out now?”

“You can return home until the evening, and then head over. I can contact him and let him know you’re on the case.”

“With respect, I don’t see the point in heading home. I’ve got other work that I could be doing. And it will help me to know more about the area beforehand. Could you give me the address now? One can never be too prepared,” Kunikida rambled, already opening his notebook.

Fukuzawa sighed, but clearly saw no point in trying to argue his case. “You mustn’t push yourself, Kunikida. But I’ll write it down for you.”

“It’s no trouble. Work gives me purpose. If I did not push myself, I would not be able to keep up with my ideals.”

Fukuzawa blinked at Kunikida as he reached for some thin paper to write on. “Then perhaps you should evaluate why you feel like you aren’t able to keep up with them without pushing yourself.”

Kunikida furrowed his brow.

“I know you care about doing your job well,” Fukuzawa continued as he wrote down the address. His handwriting was slow, but neat, and Kunikida could see the calluses of his hands and sharpness of his wrist. The man wore many scars from his youth, deep slashes across his arms. “But you must remember that many times it’s not your fault when someone gets hurt. However, when you push yourself too much, that hurts yourself and others. Taking care of ourselves means taking care of each other.”

“I know, President,” Kunikida replied curtly. “I just need to make sure I’m going about my research properly.”

The President seemed unconvinced as he handed the paper across the table. 

“If that’s all, I’ll be going for now,” Kunikida said politely, beginning to uncross his legs.

“Very well,” Fukuzawa replied. “Please take care.”

“I will.”

“Perhaps sometime soon, you should take some time off. This past week seems to have been particularly stressful for you.”

“No need,” Kunikida kept his voice short. “Thank you.”

He got to his feet, gave a polite bow, and hurried to the door. He shut it gently. Kunikida noted the address he had been given and put the paper inside of his notebook, giving it another once-over then closing it, and planting the book in his pocket. 

He appreciated the President’s concern, he truly did. But Kunikida had strayed too far in the past from his ideals, and it only ended badly. The concern given to him by all of his coworkers was something that he never truly took to mind; even though he knew that he should. Maybe Kunikida just needed to get to know someone with a fresher perspective; or maybe he just needed to hunker down and focus on his work even more. 

Kunikida shook himself and made his way back to his desk to get back to business. 

Chapter Text

Paperwork was piling up on Kunikida’s desk.

As the day drew on, he was focused on researching the client that he was meant to assist in the evening. But Kunikida was never just focused on the one thing; his filing tray was quite a collection, from old casework he was reviewing, to complaints, to the resulting paperwork from the issue downstairs.  But he at least got through it. And the others did, at their own pace - a pace that was never quite fast enough for Kunikida.

The blonde sighed and sat up in his chair for a moment, pushing his hair back. A few hours had gone by, interrupted only by a short break. Kenji and Akutagawa had stopped by just briefly on their way to the Main Street wherein Kenji was determined to introduce the rookie to his many acquaintances. The boy had befriended all of the local shopkeepers that Kunikida could name, and many that he couldn’t. When he asked how their project was going, Kenji always spoke for Akutagawa.

After they’d gone, there had been peace for a while, and Kunikida much appreciated times like that; the Agency’s headquarters were much like a second home to him, even though he had to share it with several constantly rowdy roommates. When he could focus in relative calmness, time flew by.

The elderly shopkeeper that Kunikida was preparing to meet with was not far - Kunikida could empathise with the man; having had his peace disturbed by someone lurking around could likely cause him great paranoia. The sudden appearance of this individual implies they’ve got a goal to interfere with the man and his store in some way, Kunikida thought, hand on his chin. Or it could be someone just littering and others following suit. Either way, it was Kunikida’s duty to do what he could for the man, when the local police would not even try. 

Littering cigarettes outside a clothing store didn’t automatically mean an ulterior motive. But nonetheless, Kunikida scoffed to himself at the thought. One should hold onto their garbage and dispose of them correctly if there isn’t a bin immediately inside. Or perhaps ask someone behind a bar counter to dispose of it, instead of leaving ash in their wake.

Just then, the blonde noticed Naomi gazing at him curiously from her desk. She had her glasses on, and was hovering over her laptop. Kunikida spun around in his chair. “What is it? Shouldn’t you be working?”

”Just because I look up once doesn’t mean I’m not,” Naomi rolled her eyes. “But what are you scoffing at, Kunikida-san? You’ve been glaring so hard you’re burning a hole in the wall. I was wondering if you had zoned out.”

”I was just thinking about littering.”

”Ah, I see,” Naomi said, her expression betraying that she clearly did not see. “No good.”

”No, it’s not,” Kunikida replied to her slight snarkiness. “It’s bad for the environment. Actually, you know, at the company party night, I had to tell a man outside to put his own rubbish in the bin. You would think people could take initiative and do it themselves.”

Naomi shrugged. Kunikida kept on. “Did you know that there is a fine for dropping litter? I don’t know why people do it just because they won’t be caught, even still. You can be fined up to 30-“

”Ah, what’s gotten Kunikida-kun upset now?” chimed in another voice from the hallway. Yosano entered the room, flopping onto her chair. “I just finished logging some of Akutagawa’s medical information that he told me earlier. That boy answers every question like he’s been asked to recite a line of philosophical poetry. Sorting through his words is a task.”

”I’m not upset,” Kunikida frowned. “I need to leave soon, anyways. I have to take the subway a few stations away.”

”For that job Fukuzawa wanted to speak with you about?” Yosano yawned. “Don’t you want someone to go with you?”

”I’ll be fine on my own. If I took someone else, it might just cause the client more concern. I would have perhaps invited Akutagawa, but he’s busy, and I need more time to think of what I will test him on.”

”I have a few ideas myself,” Yosano said. She took a sip of her scalding tea without batting an eyelid. Naomi turned to face the doctor in her chair, wearing a look of concern. Tanizaki was also looking over now. “He might help me test some of my new equipment. You recall I ordered some new stuff for my office recently? I know it’s a pain doing all the paperwork for medical equipment, but it’s just begging to be used already…”

”Well, I respect your desire to work, Yosano-sensei. But we can hope that the rookie will be safe and not experience any life-threatening injuries anytime soon,” Kunikida adjusted his glasses nervously.

Yosano sighed dramatically. “I suppose. I’ll let my mind do a little more marinating…”

”Maybe don’t let it marinate too much,” Tanizaki added.

”Hm,” Yosano said. Kunikida saw a spark in her eyes as she turned her head slightly toward the ginger boy. “How’s your arm doing, Tanizaki?”

He blinked. “All better. Great.”

”Great,” she said, staring him down.

”Yosano-sensei, your tea will go cold,” Naomi said, holding back laughter. 

“You’re too kind, Naomi-chan,” she said. “Tea does help the mind marinate.”

Kunikida was relieved in a way that there was someone new at the Agency to bear the brunt of Yosano’s experimentation for a while.

”Is there anything else I can take care of while I’m away?” Kunikida prompted. “Nothing too much, but I have some extra time in my schedule if you need anything picked up.”

”I don’t think we need anything in particular,” Yosano said.

”Kenji did the groceries last week,” added Tanizaki, taking a sip from a can.

”Maybe some more snacks,” Naomi said. “I don’t want to take from Ranpo-san’s stash.”

”He won’t tell you, but he already has one in his locker,” Yosano muttered. “Ah, wait, you could maybe pick up some more gloves for me? I forgot to order more in with everything else I was dealing with.”

Kunikida nodded dutifully and quickly scribbled down the notes. “Can do.”

The doctor gave him a nod. “You’re too kind.”

”I’m just kind enough when I’m not being asked to bring back a whole aisle full of items,” Kunikida replied, matter-of-factly. He dotted the last of his notes with a definite stroke of his pen, then rolled back his chair and stood. “Anyhow, I should get going. The President is busy, so I won’t bother him, he already knows I’m off.”

”Make sure not to stay out too long. You only have a couple hours left of your shift,” Naomi called over as Kunikida gathered his belongings.

”It all depends on what the situation is like,” Kunikida said. “If it is serious, I’ll have to hope that I can get the police to take me seriously.”

”Good luck with that,” said Yosano. There was a gloominess in her voice. Kunikida nodded and looked away rather swiftly. 

The past few years had seen the Agency go through some hard times and be unable to stop some tragedies - that Kunikida supposed people couldn’t help but blame them for. 

But still, protecting the city should still come first. Kunikida was focused on doing just that with the help of his ideals. And though it felt like he was missing something in his work, following his ideals would surely help him find just what missing piece was.

”I’ll see you all later,” Kunikida gave a curt bow of the head to them all, grabbing his coat from the hanger and slipping his arms through. 

“Keep your phone by you,” Tanizaki called over meekly. 

Kunikida nodded. He would never forget to do such a thing, but he couldn’t help but be appreciative of his subordinate’s concern. The rest of the detectives and assistants in the room waved goodbye as Kunikida departed, shutting the door behind him gently, then turning down the stairs swiftly, one foot in front of the other.

———

The subway line was thankfully not any busier than usual on a late winter afternoon. Dusk had already begun to set in, but there was a certain sense of gloom in the air, knowing that the working day wasn’t over just yet. Kunikida straightened his coat out and held onto the railing with conviction, watching the reflections in the window. 

He was almost there, and as the train began to slow, Kunikida was the first to step off of the carriage and onto the platform, easily slipping his way through the crowd towards the stairs. He held tight the straps of his messenger bag as he came up onto the street, feeling the hot air of the subway disappear behind him.

Kunikida knew most of Yokohama well, though this area closer to the port was slightly more unfamiliar. It simply wasn’t smart for Agency members to hang around in the Port Mafia’s territory, even if there wasn’t an obvious danger. Their influence had been stagnant for a while, but that didn’t ease the wariness. 

Nonetheless, Kunikida trotted on. He heard the sounds of sirens in the distance. He took in the sights of the early evening, the cars going by, the people walking, the calm before the storm of rush hour. Closer to the sea, there was a slight saltiness in the air.

He quickly saw the storefront in the distance, towards the end of the street. There was a colourful awning over the window. Kunikida could see that most of the rubbish had been cleaned, but there was still some mess sweeped into the corner. When he stood square out front, Kunikida peered in, looking at the lights inside and people moseying their way through racks of clothing. He entered moments later and the ding of a doorbell alerted the man behind the counter.

“Kunikida, from the Armed Detective Agency, sir,” Kunikida said, producing his ID in a swift and practised motion. “You called about the littering and disturbance outside of your store.”

”Ah; yes,” the man said, rearranging some boxes to slip out from behind the counter and greet Kunikida. Kunikida gave him a respectful nod. “I’m glad you’ve come.”

”Of course,” Kunikida said. “You spoke with our President, Fukuzawa. I am here on his behalf.”

”It’s closing time soon,” the man breathed. He was as mentioned; an older man, perhaps in his early seventies, wearing a vest over his shirt. He had short, spiky grey hair, and wore glasses not unlike Kunikida’s own, and was not much shorter than him. “Come, come, and I’ll explain.”

Kunikida silently followed the man as he headed back to the front door. He and the blonde stood in the entrance as the man gestured towards some of the remaining rubbish in the corner. 

“As you can see, someone’s been leaving a mess out front for the past while… I can never really see out here well at night. My apartment is above the store, but the lights on the storefront stopped working a while ago, and I haven’t had the time to replace them.”

”I can see that,” Kunikida said, removing his notebook from his inside pocket. “What time do you usually see this person hanging around?”

”Some hours after I close up,” he replied, lifting one hand to scratch his head. “Often, when I’m getting ready for bed. Eh… perhaps around 9pm? Or ten? They just lurk around, and it makes me think they want to break in.”

That wasn’t so early. There would still be other people out on the street. Kunikida grit his teeth as he concentrated on the man’s words. 

“I can understand your concern with that,” Kunikida nodded. “How long have you had this business here?”

”Almost 15 years,” the man said, with both pride and exhaustion in his voice.

”Do you know of anyone who may have anything against you personally?”

”No… I suppose they must want to steal our clothing stock, if anything.”

”I don’t see any other reason why someone would be stalking around at night,” Kunikida murmured under his breath to himself, and then spoke up. “Have you noticed anything specific about the mess left behind? I was told it’s mostly cigarette waste.”

”Yes, but he also left this… just a second,” the man cleared his throat. As Kunikida waited in the doorway, standing to the side to let a woman leave the store, the man rummaged behind his desk and produced a discarded cigarette box.

It was red, and had clearly been discarded in the rain. Kunikida clicked his tongue. “If you don’t mind, I’ll take that back with me.”

”Sure, if it helps,” the man handed over the box for Kunikida to inspect. It was an entirely unfamiliar brand to him; but perhaps that could be expected. Kunikida had never smoked in his life, and didn’t pay attention to the kind of anyone who did. The box was clean other than being slightly soiled. It was a rich shade of red, with white details. Kunikida flipped it over and then deposited it into his pocket.

Kunikida then regarded the man once again. “If you don’t mind, I’ll have a look around.”

”Of course,” nodded the man. “I’ll be closing the store just now anyways.”

With that, Kunikida gave him a thanks and began to wander towards the back of the store that was not so visible from the front. In the centre, there were mostly racks of recycled clothing, from shirts, to skirts, to jeans. Against the wall there were more shelves of work attire. Iron-pressed shirts and ties, and belts slung up over a hanger. There were blouses, vests, and some shoes. Towards the back of the store and beside a door that presumably led up to the owner’s apartment, there were racks of long coats.

Kunikida spotted one not unlike his own dark brown, though it was one with a belt, and in a style he wouldn’t personally go for. They were all new, and also well-ironed. A long dusty brown coat with long wide lapels stood out on the edge of the rack. Kunikida reached out and held it up to inspect the fabric, before he was reminded that he was indeed on a job, and not out clothes shopping.

Inside the store, it was safe to say that there was nothing out of the ordinary; at least not that Kunikida could spot for himself. But there was a certain degree of concern towards the store owner’s safety. It could be the case whoever was outside had no intention of breaking in, but Kunikida wouldn’t risk it. He headed swiftly back to the front of the store where the man was politely ushering the last customer outside.

”Did you see anything odd…?” the man tried, wringing his hands together.

”Not in here,” said Kunikida. “But I do think there is some risk to you. I don’t recommend you contact the police yourself again, but I have some contacts who I trust to take this seriously. I can have them watch your store from outside tonight and again if need be for a few hours, and if they see anyone, they can talk to them. Would that help you?”

Kunikida saw a clear relief in the store owner’s face. He took Kunikida’s hand and shook it. “Thank you, that does help… I’ll be sure to thank your friends as well.”

”Ah, they’re not so much friends. But that’s appreciated. I’ll send them a message right away, and you can let us know if anything else happens. The police can’t be called again unless someone does attempt to break in, but if that happens, you can do so. My contacts from the police will make sure to take care of you anyways.”

”Thank you, Kunikida-san,” the man said, shaking his hand firmly one more time. Kunikida nodded and drew his hand back, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. 

“Of course,” the blonde replied. “If you’re satisfied, I’ll be going now.”

Kunikida was the last man to leave the store before the man turned the lights off and turned the sign on the door. He waved goodbye once more to Kunikida before he walked away, and Kunikida remained for just a moment, staring at his own reflection in the glass.

He sighed, and took out his phone to take his contacts up on the favours they owed him. Kunikida had made acquaintances with many people over the years, among them some officers in Yokohama’s police force that would help him out. He had to scroll in his contacts for a while to find them, but quickly let them know of the situation, walking down the street as he sent off the message with cold fingers.

Perhaps I should wear my gloves soon, and my scarf… I forget how cold it is, this time of year. There was a certain chill in the air now, and Kunikida was glad to have his winter coat, despite his freezing hands. It seemed that the mist from the sea blowing in only made the cold weather worse. Seagulls were calling from above, and the sun was almost down now, casting long, heavy shadows.

It was past the worst of the rush hour now, but it was still quite busy. Kunikida was reaching to put his phone back in his pocket to focus, when it began to vibrate. He blinked. He assumed that one of the men he had just contacted was calling to confirm something, but he was surprised to instead see Rokuzo’s name lighting up the screen.

He answered quickly. “Rokuzo?”

”Kunikida,” greeted the boy. He sounded quite tired. “You picked up quickly, man.”

”I was just out on a job,” Kunikida sniffed. “What is it?”

“It’s a lot,” Rokuzo sighed simply. “Keep walking, wherever you are, and head back to the Agency. You’ve still got a while left before the end of the day, right?”

”Everyone will be leaving soon after I get back.”

”Well, then get back quicker.”

Chapter Text

“I received an anonymous tip just a few minutes ago. I’m glad I caught you so quickly.”

”You say that as if I’m ever as late as you are to answer,” Kunikida scoffed at Rokuzo, his phone to his ear in one hand, and another on the railing as he hastily rambled down the stairs. ”But continue.”

”It’s a guy I’ve spoken to before, actually. Surprise surprise, it was about the Port Mafia.”

”Right.”

“They’ve been slow in expanding their reach the past year, as you know. But they’ve been causing more and more trouble, and ‘course they’ve also expanded in their numbers. Well, I’m not sure if the cops will have contacted you…”

”They haven’t,” Kunikida said. ”Get to the point.”

”This evening, a squad was sent by the police to deal with a disturbance in a warehouse on the harbour. Don’t ask me if it was a setup or anything, I don’t have any idea about that; but it didn’t end well. The entire squad was completely decimated by a white tiger. He’s the Mafia’s white reaper. They were all screwed the moment they showed up.”

Kunikida tried not to let his disbelief get the better of him on the public train carriage. He simply held the phone closer, in case he had misunderstood the boy’s words. “I’m sorry?”

”A white tiger,” Rokuzo emphasised. “It seems to be the Ability of one of the Mafia’s members. I don’t know his name, or where he suddenly appeared from, or why he’s surfaced. But if the police were indeed set up, then I can’t imagine that the ADA is fully safe from whatever is going on. The tip said just that. It seems there were military police present as well.”

Kunikida inhaled sharply. “I did hear sirens earlier. But are you sure it’s someone you’ve heard from before? Perhaps they’re trying to scare us.”

“I can’t be definite, obviously,” Rokuzo muttered. Obviously. “I don’t think so. But even if they are, you should take it seriously. I’ll send you some photos I received. Get back to the Agency and tell everyone what’s going on. And stay away from the harbour.” 

“Alright,” Kunikida assured. “Is there any chance you’re in danger too? You are connected with the Agency, after all.”

“Nah, I’ll be alright,” Rokuzo said. “Thanks for caring, though.”

“Fine. I’ll talk to you later.”

Kunikida hung up before Rokuzo could, and nervously tapped his shoe on the floor of the train. The noise of the wheels clacking against the rails rattled in his ears. This wasn’t good; if the Mafia did something so terrible so suddenly, it meant that there must be an imminent goal. And if the police were trying to keep it hush, then their attempt at damage control gave Kunikida a sense of unease as well.

He tried to keep his cool. Panicking wouldn’t help anyone. But as Kunikida stared down the carriage, light reflecting off of his glasses, he could not help but feel as if there was something he was missing still.

———

“That was just tonight?”

”A couple hours ago,” Kunikida asserted from the front of the boardroom, standing next to the whiteboard with his notebook in one hand and a pointer in the other. His coat and bag had been hastily thrown over his chair as he had led the other members of the Agency into the room. “Not long after I left the store, actually. I heard the sirens.”

“That’s scary,” Haruno said, her hands clasped. Yosano was next to her, dark eyes scanning the photos that Kunikida had attached to the board. He’d had to print them out from Rokuzo’s correspondence. Yosano seemed to be going through theories in her mind, but if she had any clue, she said nothing.

Kenji and Akutagawa had come too, smelling like the farmwork they’d been doing. Kenji was listening intently, and it seemed Akutagawa was doing the same, though his fixed gaze betrayed nothing of his emotions.

”Were they doing this with the intent for us to hear about it?” Naomi prompted, stroking her long dark hair.

”Unfortunately, we can’t be sure just yet,” Kunikida sighed. “But we ought to tread carefully.”

”An entire squad, wiped out,” Fukuzawa spoke up, his voice hoarse. Kunikida’s gaze immediately snapped to the man. “It’s no surprise if the police heard rumours of this white reaper’s existence and didn’t share them with us. But now, they must be looking for help. Such an Ability is something they will need our help with.”

”Well, we knew there was something brewing,” Tanizaki said. “This must be it.”

”I’ll contact the Chief of Police,” said Fukuzawa. “I’ll do it right away. Thank you for briefing us, Kunikida. You can all be dismissed for now.”

The chairs scraped against the floor as the Agency members stood up. Akutagawa looked around wildly before doing the same, and they all watched as Fukuzawa dismissed himself from the room and headed to his office. When the door shut, the silence was broken by Ranpo flopping back down in his chair.

“In some ways, I feel like the Mafia has grown past us these days,” Yosano commented, her arms crossed. 

“How do you mean?” Kunikida said, as he gathered his notes. 

“We just feel smaller, and they feel bigger.”

”I get what you mean,” Tanizaki said. His hands were in the pockets of his red hoodie. “But they’d better not dare to try and mess with us directly. I don’t see what they’d gain from raiding us at the moment…”

”Is your boy alright, Kunikida?” Yosano said, Kunikida turning his head to her.

“Rokuzo,” she clarified.

”He should be fine,” Kunikida replied, though he already knew who she meant. “The boy is good at covering his tracks. And he knows how much trouble I’ll get him in if he lied to me about being safe.”

”Who is Rokuzo?” came Akutagawa’s voice. He was still standing, with Kenji looking up at him curiously. 

Yosano gave a laugh. “His kid.”

”No,” Kunikida grumbled. “He’s a kid. One of our informants. Not much younger than you, rookie.”

“I see.”

“I’ve never seen a tiger in real life before,” Kenji interrupted. “Did Rokuzo send you any pictures of the tiger?”

”No, they’re just from the scene.”

“Haven’t you been to the zoo?” Naomi asked Kenji. The boy shook his head.

“We should go there for a field trip,” said Tanizaki, fiddling with the strings of his sweater.

”Ooh, yes!”

Kunikida lifted his head. “That’s not the focus of the meeting.”

”The meeting’s over!” Ranpo exclaimed, throwing his hands up. “I’m going home.”

”You’re not going home unless I take the train with you,” Yosano rolled her eyes. 

Ranpo got to his feet and nudged her. “Then come on already.”

”Just remember to take care,” Kunikida ordered. 

Naomi stood back up too, checking her phone as she did. “Yessir.”

”I didn’t realise how late it’s gotten,” Tanizaki remarked. “I know it’s winter, but still.”

“Yeah… I kind of like it though.”

Kunikida followed the others as they funnelled out of the boardroom and back into the main office. As they spoke, he fetched his coat and threw it on, adjusting the lapels. 

“I guess Fukuzawa-san will lock up,” Tanizaki said, his head under the desk as he gathered his belongings. 

“We’ll wait for him,” Yosano said, shushing Ranpo before he could open his mouth to protest.

“Good work today,” remarked Kenji, clapping his hands together. “Especially you, Kunikida-san. How kind of you to help that man.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if you knew him, Kenji,” Kunikida said with a hint of laughter in his voice. “But it’s a virtue you get along so well with different kinds of people.”

“He’s very upbeat,” said Akutagawa, deadpan.

“Aw, thank you, Akutagawa-san!”

“I’ll be going now,” Kunikida called. “Take care.”

“See you tomorrow.”

“I’ll forgive you for forgetting my gloves,” laughed Yosano.

Kunikida stopped in his tracks. “I forgot? Crap.”

“It’s fine. There was kind of an emergency.”

“I’ll bring some tomorrow,” Kunikida replied anxiously. “I apologise.”

“It’s fine, Kunikida,” Yosano rolled her eyes. “You need to stop treating favours like they’re chores you need to check off the list. Off you go.”

“Right,” the blonde said, pausing as he held the door open. Awkwardly, he raised one hand in a wave, before shutting the door behind him. 

Kunikida trotted down the stairs, snatching his umbrella from the bucket as he walked by. His glasses were steaming up as soon as he exited through the front door, opening his umbrella and throwing it over his shoulder. 

There was just a flicker of sunlight left, creating a dull brightness in the evening sky. All of the street lamps were on now, and Kunikida saw flecks of rain spitting down beneath them. 

Kunikida marched on through the busy street. He was relieved to be headed home for once, but it still felt wrong in a way; while he trod down the street, while he prepared his dinner and sat down at his desk to write, while he slept, something was brewing. 

He thought about the fear that must have struck the squad of men in the warehouse - and their families, receiving the news. Kunikida had sworn long ago he would never let anyone die in front of him, and although this wasn’t the same, he still thought back to the sirens that he heard and paid no mind.

Lost in his head, Kunikida didn’t slow down when he began striding along without thought. He was staring at the ground and gripping the handle of his umbrella tightly. And when he turned the corner onto the next street, he was only brought back to reality when he crashed right into another civilian. 

“Sorry,” he said curtly, adjusting his glasses. They were steamed up from him breathing so heavily. He took them off to quickly wipe away the moisture when he paused to study the man in front of him.

“So you’re long-sighted? I didn’t know that.”

“Dazai,” Kunikida blinked. 

“You should watch where you’re going, Kunikida-kun.”

“I was busy thinking,” Kunikida cleared his throat. “And no, I’m short-sighted. But I could recognise that scarf of yours from a mile away.”

“Really?” said Dazai, his figure still blurry. Kunikida wasn’t quick enough to respond when the man reached forward and nimbly plucked Kunikida’s glasses right from his hands, leaving the man stunned as he triumphantly placed them on his own face. “Then how do these suit me, do you think?” 

Kunikida grumbled. “I can't see properly to tell you.”

He found himself pondering if they suited Dazai better than himself, so he snapped at him. “Give those back.”

“Eh, fine,” the dark-haired man sighed, taking them off and gently placing them himself back onto Kunikida’s face instead of his outstretched hand. 

“Why are you here?” Kunikida couldn’t help but ask, now seeing Dazai clearly, his coy expression, damp hair, and the blemishes on his face. They both stood to the side of a quieter street, with people still rushing by around them.

“I’m heading home,” he said. “I was just stopping for a smoke.”

“You ought to stop that habit. It’s unhealthy.” 

“Kunikida, so is breathing in city smog every day, or drinking so much coffee you start to lose your sense of self, or skipping meals to avoid taking a break.”

“And so is not sleeping,” Kunikida crossed his arms. “How’s that working out for you?”

Dazai made a face. “I’m doing just fine.”

“Sure. Maybe don’t stop to have a smoke in a human crash zone next time.”

“I thought it was Kunikida who wasn’t paying attention,” Dazai grinned at him.

Kunikida tried not to roll his eyes at the man, instead leaning back against the wall and looking away. Perhaps being stopped in his tracks was something he needed to pull himself out of his trance. 

They both stood in silence for a moment, watching people go by, before Dazai spoke up again.

“How… was your day?”

“Busy,” Kunikida sighed.

“You’ll be glad to get home then,” Dazai hummed.

“I still have some work to do when I get home,” Kunikida replied. 

Dazai pinched the bridge of his nose, laughter in his voice. “If I still had to do my work from home, I’d lose my mind even more…”

“I’d think the opposite of you,” Kunikida raised a brow.

“Eh? Kunikida-kun, work is for work. I wouldn’t be caught dead bringing it home with me. And you know how much I desire to be caught dead, so that means a lot.”

“Shut up,” Kunikida huffed. “So… wait, wouldn’t it just be easier for you, though?”

“Hm?”

Kunikida was already slightly suspicious of what Dazai told him, but the way the man turned his gaze seemed to confirm his suspicions. 

“Your market. The research. The analysis.”

“Yes, I’m always doing those.”

“Really.”

“I know there’s something you’re not telling me,” Kunikida shrank back, having leaned closer to Dazai to study his expression. “But I can’t be bothered quizzing you.”

“You really are a detective. Whenever you ask questions, it becomes an interrogation.”

“And what do you know of detectives?”

Dazai didn’t reply right away, and kicked his foot against the floor. He shrugged ever so slightly to himself. “I used to be one.” 

Some stuck gears in Kunikida’s brain finally turned. “That makes sense.”

Dazai raised a brow. “How so!”

“It explains why you are… the way that you are.”

“Pot calling the kettle black,” Dazai huffed. 

There was a moment of silence again, Kunikida tilting his head up as he thought more about what Dazai had admitted. The man’s cunning personality, his way of digging up emotions from Kunikida; he should’ve pieced it together before.

As the two men stood, the sounds of the city became more obvious, and Kunikida’s mind was brought back to that night not long ago beneath the awning of the izakaya. In the distance, somewhere in the maze of Yokohama’s streets, there was loud music pumping, people laughing, sirens going.

“You know, just listening to the city is enough to start an existential crisis for me,” Dazai mused.

Kunikida looked at him casually. “What do you mean?”

“Don’t you think about it sometimes? What kind of siren it is? Are they saving someone, or going after them? When I hear those sirens, I’m reminded that where I’m standing and pondering my own life, someone is having the worst day of theirs.”

“I suppose you could think of it that way,” said Kunikida, matter-of-factly. “But to me, it just reminds me that the city is alive. Full of people with their own lives and ideals to be protected.”

Dazai smiled, a fondness in his eyes that made the blonde feel as if he should look over his shoulder and realise Dazai was speaking to someone else. “That’s very philosophical of you, Kunikida.”

“I’m no philosopher. You’re moreso that than me.”

“Maybe so.”

“I…” Kunikida began. “I’m surprised I’d never seen you before, if you were a detective. That is if you have always been based in Yokohama.”

“You might have seen me as just another face in the crowd, at some point,” Dazai shrugged. “I worked with quite a private agency.”

“Hm,” was all Kunikida could reply.

“Indeed,” Dazai inhaled, pushing himself forward from the wall. “I should probably let you go.”

Kunikida had forgotten what he was doing before their conversation. He shook himself mentally and nodded. “Yes, it’s getting late.”

As Kunikida began to move again, he felt Dazai give his sleeve a tug then let go. “Though I must at least ask you, Kunikida… if you want to talk again, perhaps you should give me your contact.”

Don’t see why not, thought the blonde. “Sure.”

He produced his phone and flipped it open, fiddling with a few buttons and then holding it to Dazai to show him. The dark-haired man took his own phone from one of his deep pockets and studied Kunikida’s phone for just the blink of an eye before drawing back. He typed the number in, not even looking back over to check.

Kunikida was miffed, but at this point, he decided it was best not to question the man’s ability. “I’ll see you later, then.”

“Have a good night, Kunikida-kun!” Dazai smiled back. As he walked away, he gave Kunikida a nudge and a small wave.

Kunikida paused. “Wait, don’t you have an umbrella?”

Dazai glanced around as if he was missing one. “Ah, no. I’m fine.”

“Just take mine, it’s not one of my good ones, and I’ll be home in a few minutes,” Kunikida said, offering it forward.

Dazai scoffed just slightly. “It’s not one of your good ones? That’s fine for me, then.”

Kunikida opened his mouth, but Dazai reached forward and took the handle. “Thank you.”

The blonde straightened up, proud of himself. “You’re welcome. Goodnight.”

Dazai gave a nod.

When Kunikida rounded the corner and glanced back, he saw Dazai still pushing out the slightly dishevelled umbrella. Kunikida hadn’t seen him so candidly focused before. 

He didn’t stop to stare, but the concentrated look in Dazai’s whenever he focused stuck with him. His unbandaged eye was dark, like his hair, and the few freckles and moles on his face and hands. 

Kunikida hated to admit that he’d never met such an interesting man before. He took out his phone; he’d forgotten to take Dazai’s number, and so he found himself waiting for a message, as he looked at the raindrop covered screen.

It had been a long time since Kunikida had gotten so lost in a conversation. 

Chapter Text

Chapter 8

Kunikida didn’t know much about the new rookie Akutagawa, and that was a problem.

It wasn’t uncommon for new members of the Agency to arrive with not much evidence of their past, or perhaps of the most formative of their years - but Ryuunosuke, as hyperbolic as he had sounded, was not lying about his past being but a fly in the breeze, or a grain of salt, or whatever he’d mumbled about.

His medical history had come only from word of mouth from himself. He had a sibling, and he was a teenager. He’d not brought up his exact age. He didn’t actually know his date of birth. He’d not brought up what led to this man in black capturing his sibling in the first place. Instinctively, Kunikida was suspicious, but if the President saw promise in the boy, then Kunikida was going to try his best too.

It was another early morning when Kunikida left his dormitory to head for Akutagawa’s. Kenji had given him the address. The young blonde boy had told Kunikida he was definitely going to approve Akutagawa to the boss, but he wanted to spend some more time with him first anyways. “You can have him this week,” Kenji had said, sitting on top of his desk and forking out salad from a to-go box. “But he needs to work with me again next week to finish the harvest. Oda-san wants to spend some time with him, too.”

“Sure,” Kunikida had said, sounding more resolute than he was.  

This route wasn’t new to Kunikida, but he didn’t take it often. Still, it was nice, the trees by the path heavy with last night’s rainfall, dripping onto him. The sky was a watercolour blue and yellow. The clouds had mostly dissipated, but a few of them were still there, underlit by the rising sun.

He soon turned the corner to Akutagawa’s apartment block. It was much the same as all the others in this area of Yokohama. On task, at 6:29am, Kunikida headed up the steps to the end of the second floor. But when he rapped on the door - at precisely 6:30 - there was no answer.

Kunikida knocked a second time, and then a third. He inhaled. “Akutagawa!” He yelled. “Time to leave for the office! Wake up and get ready! You’re on my time now, and you’re already two-and-a-half minutes late to WAKE UP!”

As Kunikida reminded everyone daily, there was a way of things. And as the newest - well, trial - member of the Agency, Akutagawa was Kunikida’s opportunity to show the rest of the staff how to act properly in a place of work. He’d had enough of Oda’s tardiness, Yosano’s tendencies for violence, Ranpo’s refusal to participate unless he felt like it, Kenji’s naivety…

Breakfast for twenty-two minutes, dress in eighteen, walk to the office in sixteen and a half, prepare for work in six minutes and ten seconds, then begin work.

The blonde man grumbled, searching for more breath to continue. “Plans only have meaning if they’re flawless! If you get that, then—“

“I’m here, senpai.”

Kunikida was surprised to hear the answer come from above.

It was Akutagawa alright.

Kunikida stepped back from the awning and leaned his back against the railing to get a view of the young man, who was standing atop the slanted roof of his dormitory, looking out towards the rising sun. The wind caught his hair and his clothes, and he looked uncharacteristically peaceful.

”You’re awake?” Kunikida muttered.

”Yes,” Akutagawa said, not meeting his eyes. “I sleep lightly. So I spend my mornings taking in the city like this. Impending danger first makes itself known in the morning light - the screech of fleeing cars, the smell of gasoline in the air, the whistles of overloaded transport ships…”

He then turned to his senior, and slid his way down towards the edge of the awning, hopping off neatly to the ground with his hands in his pockets with the help of Rashoumon. “It’s time to work, you say? Then let us go.”

Kunikida was pleasantly surprised. “Alright. But what about breakfast?”

”I don’t need it.”

”Eh? Yes, you do,” Kunikida snapped, jabbing an accusatory finger at the boy. “This will absolutely not do. Breakfast is the core meal of the day. Skipping it will dull your pancreatic activity. It lowers your body’s control over blood sugar at lunch and dinner. Skipping even one meal lowers your performance throughout the day. The ideal breakfast lets you perform ideal work— Akutagawa!”

The boy had already slipped past him and was trotting down the lower steps, clearly not listening. “Akutagawa! Listen to your superior until he’s finished!”

The kid was fast, though, and he kept on walking. Kunikida had to roll his eyes and follow. He was slowly realising that Akutagawa was all too well fitting into the concerns he had about his fellow detectives at the ADA.

Kunikida’s concerns came down to this - “the detective agency is too free-spirited.”

The Tanizaki siblings, equally distracted from their work with their hobbies and their bickering. Odasaku, always late for work, spending his mornings chatting with the elderly ladies in his neighbourhood. Yosano taking a little too much interest in taking the human body apart before putting it back together. Kenji disappearing randomly, saying his cow had gone into labour. And Ranpo, the greatest detective in all of Japan - perhaps the world - only wanting to take on cases he takes a personal interest in.

All of that should come to an end. With this move, it shall be reborn as my ideal agency. Yes, my ideals - my favourite saying… everything according to plan! And my least favourite… eh, it’ll all work out. Something which, the image of the bandaged man popping into his head, he could see Dazai saying, too.

But Kunikida, of course, had everything planned ahead. Akutagawa was to be a public morals agent as his first role within the Agency. This will make everyone taste the pain of a rookie pointing out their mistakes. And with his personality, he’ll be strict with everyone, regardless of seniority. Yes, this “okay card” is like a gift from God himself.

Yes, I’ll make an example of this kid. With Akutagawa nearly around the corner now, Kunikida pulled his notebook from his inside pocket, calling upon his Ability as he ripped a page from it. He focused, and with a commanding voice, he summoned forth a wire gun from the page, whirling it around to properly grip in his hand, and aimed at Akutagawa’s back.

He was yanked towards his superior, eyes wide. Kunikida put a firm arm around his neck and made sure he listened. “Do not mess around with me, son. If you want my approval, then you will accept my conditions and listen to me.”

The boy gave the slightest of nods.

———

“Listen, Akutagawa. A public morals agency must serve as an example to others. In other words - this means adhering to your work schedule.”

Miraculously, they’d arrived at the Agency on time. Kunikida had walked at such a pace the rookie had to jog to keep up with him. Being unfamiliar with this part of Yokohama, Kunikida had to keep yelling at him to follow instead of wandering off down an alleyway to explore.

They’d burst through the door, Kunikida still composed, and Akutagawa out of breath. 

“When you arrive each day, you organise all of the paperwork from the previous day and finish all internal communications. Regularly check your points of contact to see if there are any new cases. Track your schedule on a per-minute basis. Optimally allocating your time and carrying out that schedule will lead to the more ideal of results.”

Kunikida, assured in his words, crossed his arms.

Akutagawa blinked. “But I don’t like paperwork.”

Sitting at their respective desks, Naomi and Tanizaki both looked up from their phones and held back laughter. Even Ranpo looked interested in the interaction.

Kunikida blinked back and shrugged. ”I don’t care?”

”Where is the enemy?” Akutagawa went on. “I’d much rather cut down the Agency’s foes than struggle with these heinous documents.”

”Listen to me! Your work isn’t just fighting, it’s—“

The rookie snatched one of the sheets of paper Kunikida had left on his desk the previous day. Rashoumon’s jagged limbs were raised above his head. “I’ll cut down this paperwork too.”

”Stop that!”

…This is what I must deal with.

Kunikida grabbed the paper back, unafraid of Rashoumon. “Listen. Today, you must learn your correct work procedures. This time, our client has asked us to expose a child abduction ring. This is serious. To do so, we have a witness here today. A child, who almost fell victim to a kidnapping.”

Akutagawa nodded. Kunikida sighed and continued. “He’s twelve years old, and the incident is still fresh in his mind. You have to be careful with how you question him. Everyone you question is different. We aren’t interrogating these victims. It’s an art you must perfect, and be considerate and in tune with the emotions of this person—“

”Hey, kid. Tell me what the criminal looked like.”

Kunikida whipped around to see that Akutagawa had once again slipped past him, and was holding the child up in the air by the collar of his shirt.

”If you don’t remember, I’ll throw you from the fourth-floor window—“

The blonde man leapt forward and pulled him back by the shoulder fiercely. “Don’t threaten him, you fool! Are you hearing me, Akutagawa? We won’t just get a complaint, we’ll get a lawsuit!”

“If you don’t remember, it’ll be the fifth floor next. Then the sixth. If that doesn’t work, then the seventh.”

”He’ll die from the fifth floor up!”

”Okay, the third floor, then.”

Kunikida gaped. “That’s your compromise?”

”Forget it. I’ll refer to the information we already have… and beat the truth out of everyone who matches the description.”

While Akutagawa had already dropped the victim was already storming towards the door, Kunikida was trying to hush the bowl-haired kid from crying. “I’m sorry,” he muttered into the kid’s ear.

The kid threw himself into Kunikida’s arms, and the man sighed. He looked over at the rookie, who didn’t seem to care.

”Before we even worry about his schedule,” Kunikida whispered to himself. “First, he needs to learn basic social behaviour.”

Yes, again, this is what I have to deal with…

“Akutagawa. Stop,” Kunikida ordered, standing up and gently urging the child back to the seating area. He walked up to the cloaked boy, standing unsuredly at the door with his hands back in his pockets. ”All right. Let me explain this job. It’s an easy one, so even you can handle it. This won’t take long, so listen closely.”

Kunikida grabbed Akutagawa’s coat sleeve and dragged him to his desk. The taller man pointed at the paper on the desk Akutagawa had nearly ripped to shreds. “Write down today’s work progress in this report form. Put your stamp,” Kunikida gestured to the box of stationary that he’d neatly laid out on the rookie’s desk, “in the bit here that says staff. Do you understand?”

Akutagawa lifted his head. “Mhm.”

Kunikida went to walk away and get started on his own paperwork, but not even a second later, Akutagawa gently tugged on his shirt and beckoned him back over. “I’m all done, senpai.”

”That was fast,” Kunikida fixed his glasses and looked at the sheet.

I CUT IT ALL DOWN.

“EH?” Kunikida yelled. He ignored Ranpo who was shaking his head mockingly at the Tanizaki siblings, who giggled. “You call this a report? And since when were you your own manager? And the President? And your stamps are all misaligned! Do it properly!”

Kunikida saw the tails of the boy’s coat start to sharpen and unravel. “Don’t sass me!”

Later that day, the same pattern continued.

“Help me, please,” a woman had rushed through the door at 9 o’clock. “I have a stalker pursuing me.”

Before Kunikida could even welcome her in, Akutagawa had snatched her up by the collar like he had the child. “Describe him to me now.”

After that debacle, just before lunch break, an older gentleman had arrived that Kunikida had helped before. “Pardon me… I have a case I’d very much like your Agency to handle.”

Again, Akutagawa beat him to the greeting, if it could be called that.

———

Kunikida had needed to calm down over his lunch before he spoke to the boy again. He was sitting next to Tanizaki and Naomi, who were handing him various pieces out of their meal boxes for him to eat. He was pleased to see the siblings seemed genuine, and weren’t treating him like a circus animal - but if they could share their food, they could share some choice words and tell the boy to listen to Kunikida.

“Akutagawa.”

Kunikida crept up and grabbed the kid by both shoulders. “You’ve been so attentive and obedient when handling farm work with Kenji. Why, now, are you so out of control?”

Akutagawa swallowed a piece of battered spicy chicken Tanizaki had given him. “With my upbringing, I am keenly aware of the nobility of creating food. But I can’t fill my stomach with paperwork. I’ve tried many times before, and failed.”

“You’ve what…?”

———

It was one exhausting week later when Kunikida realised his mission was on the brink of falling completely apart.

He’d been juggling his other work of priority alongside this challenge. He was so tired that he saw a walking corpse when he looked in the mirror.

In the evening, Kunikida was storming through the headquarters, drawing the gazes of everyone there. “Akutagawa! Where is Akutagawa?”

Tanizaki leaned back in his chair. “What’s wrong, Kunikida-san?”

”Akutagawa is,” he spat. “He’s dodging paperwork. I tied him to his chair, but he used his Ability to break free, and scratched up his desk. Ah, there’s no turning back now… I must report this to the President. We’ll create a new post to keep watch over him - the “public morals agency watching over public morals agent.”

”Kunikida-san…” Tanizaki gave an awkward smile. “I feel like you’re just creating an endless loop… but if you’re looking for Akutagawa-kun, he’s over there.”

Kunikida looked where the boy was pointing, but saw nothing. “Do I need a new prescription?” He took his glasses off and cleaned them with his shirt before placing them back on. 

“No, over there, see? Right there.”

He was pointing at the desk just outside the seating area. 

“Nobody’s there— wait…”

Eventually, Kunikida spotted the figure beneath the table. 

“Akutagawa? Hey, what are you doing?”

It was him all right, curled up beneath the desk. Ranpo looked over from his post - Kenji too, who was up the step of a ladder, rearranging some things in one of the bookshelves. 

“I’m hiding from Yosano-sensei.”

”Huh?”

Tanizaki spoke up from behind, still wearing an awkward expression. “Apparently, Yosano’s condition for stamping his card… is to undergo her healing skill forty times.”

Kunikida winced. “Akutagawa agreed, saying ‘ah, if it’s just healing, do as much as you want’… but when he saw her dismembering hatchet and chainsaw, he, uh…”

For once, the blonde man understood. “Okay, that’s enough. I can guess what happened next.”

Akutagawa, looking like the kid he was for once, slumped against the backing of the desk. “I withstood it four times… but beyond that lies a realm that one must never venture into. If I were to take that forty times… I would be thrust into the dark abyss of my soul, and become something living, but unhuman.”

”Good grief, not even Akutagawa is a match for her? Well, I’d run away too. But work is work… did you forget our promise?”

Akutagawa shook his head. “The plan calls for us to expose the kidnapping ring this week, remember? But thank to your utterly “unique” approach, we are falling dreadfully behind. We aren’t going to meet this week’s deadline like this. How do you—“

”They’re in the next room,” Akutagawa glowered. 

“What?”

He was slowly crawling out of his hideaway. ”I already caught them. There are only two ways to make a profit by abducting children - human trafficking, or ransom. Poor children go through the former, and rich children become merchandise for the latter. I cannot speak for the latter, but the former is my territory.”

Kunikida nodded, though he was barely able to process what the boy was saying. He knew parts of Yokohama’s slums, having worked with people there many times, but he couldn’t imagine how going there felt for someone who grew up in them. 

“I am painfully aware of how they seize and sell poor children. So I followed those leads. I hit up every scumbag I knew in the slums… and identified someone, who had taken a job from them recently. With his guidance, I stormed their hideout and captured them all with my skill. All of them are alive, more or less, so they may be judged by the law.”

Without another word, Kunikida sprang to his feet and stormed down the hall to the next room. He heard Akutagawa turn and speak to Tanizaki. “I did cut off a few toes to prevent escape, however.”

When he threw open the door, it was true - on the floor were a group of men, badly wounded, bleeding from many sharp wounds. On the ground right beside the door, Akutagawa had dropped the wanted poster with their faces on it. Kunikida breathed in deeply. “Christ, he’s not suited for public morals.”

Though the half-conscious men on the floor wouldn’t be able to understand the significance, Kunikida smiled to himself. “I told him to follow the plan, but he’s gone and moved up the schedule by a week.”

Kunikida slammed shut his notebook. Not the conclusion to this particular job he expected, but indeed a welcome one.