Chapter Text
Kunikida sat at his desk, his fingers lightly drumming against the surface of the polished wood, his thoughts occupied with the events of the past year. The clock on the wall ticked steadily, a rhythmic reminder that time had passed—time that had allowed him to grow into a new role, a new life. The warmth of the afternoon sun filtered through the blinds, casting stripes of light across the papers strewn on his desk, but his focus was far from the case in front of him.
It had been one year since that fateful day when Fukuzawa had handed him the contract, one year since he had officially become part of the Armed Detective Agency. The weight of the moment still lingered, but it no longer held the same uncertainty. Kunikida had found his rhythm, learned from his mistakes, and built something solid out of the remnants of his past doubts.
He had spent countless hours honing his skills—writing, investigating, and, perhaps most significantly, learning martial arts. Fukuzawa had kept his word, teaching him not just how to defend himself but how to be more strategic, more precise. It wasn’t the first time Kunikida had felt the sting of failure, but now it was a familiar, almost comforting sensation. He no longer feared failure; he had come to understand it was a part of the process, a challenge to overcome.
And then there was Andrew. Their relationship had evolved in ways Kunikida hadn’t anticipated. At first, Andrew had seemed like a distant figure—a quiet observer who seemed to know too much but said so little. But as the months passed, Kunikida had come to rely on him in ways that surprised him. Andrew’s expertise in forensic analysis, his attention to detail, his uncanny ability to read people—it all came together in a way that complemented Kunikida’s own sense of duty and order.
In truth, Andrew’s presence was grounding. The man had a quiet intensity to him, an almost unnerving calm that made Kunikida feel like there was always more to Andrew than he let on. It wasn’t just Andrew’s intellect or his combat abilities that stood out. It was the way he carried himself—methodical, composed, and always with a watchful eye, as if assessing every situation from angles Kunikida hadn’t yet considered.
But it was his ability to show kindness, in his own way, that Kunikida had come to appreciate the most. In the stillness of their shared silences, Kunikida began to trust that Andrew saw him—not just as an agent, not just as a colleague, but as a person. It wasn’t something Kunikida had experienced much before. Not in the way Andrew offered it, anyway.
He glanced at the clock again, the familiar pressure of time starting to push against him. There were cases to solve, people to protect. But Kunikida had learned that balance, too. He knew when to give his full attention to a case, and he knew when to step back and allow his colleagues to step in.
His musings were interrupted by the sudden creak of the door. He looked up, already half-expecting the visitor. Andrew stood in the doorway, as composed as ever, with that quiet air of command surrounding him. There was a faint smirk on his face, barely perceptible, as he looked at Kunikida.
“You’re still lost in thought?” Andrew asked, his voice steady, though there was an unmistakable hint of amusement.
Kunikida smiled faintly, setting his pen down and leaning back in his chair. “Just thinking about the past year.”
Andrew nodded, taking a step inside the office. “You’ve come a long way.” His eyes flickered to the papers on Kunikida’s desk. “But I wouldn’t expect any less from you.”
Kunikida met Andrew’s gaze, recognizing the unspoken praise. He had become more like the person he had once admired from afar. As a child, he had always thought of duty and order as the highest goals, as the path to success. But now, after everything, he understood that there was more to it than simply following the rules. It was about growth—both as an individual and as part of something bigger. He wasn’t just a cog in the machine anymore. He had a voice, and his role had meaning.
“Thank you,” Kunikida replied softly, not just for the compliment, but for the quiet, consistent support that Andrew offered. It was hard to express, but the words felt true.
Andrew gave a small nod, his expression unreadable, but the weight of his approval was clear. “Fukuzawa wanted to speak with you. Something about the new case.” His tone was neutral, but there was a sharpness to it—a reminder that, even with all the growth, there were still things to be done.
Kunikida stood, adjusting his glasses with a firm gesture. “Right. Let’s get to it.”
As he left his office, Andrew falling in step beside him, Kunikida couldn’t help but feel a sense of peace settle over him. There was no longer the gnawing fear of inadequacy that once plagued him. He was ready. Ready for whatever challenges came next, whether they were cases, threats, or personal growth. It wasn’t just about proving himself anymore—it was about working with the people who had come to trust him, and trusting himself in return.
Together, they walked down the hallway, side by side, towards whatever would come next.
Kunikida entered Fukuzawa's office with Andrew close behind, his mind racing through a thousand details. The agency's current case had spiraled into something more complex than he'd anticipated, and Kunikida was focused on laying out his theories and plans. Andrew, silent and steady, exuded the kind of calm Kunikida was grateful for—a reassuring presence amidst the agency’s often chaotic atmosphere. It was a quality he admired, even as he wondered how much Andrew kept hidden behind that collected facade.
Fukuzawa looked up as they entered, his sharp gaze assessing them both. "Kunikida. Andrew. Sit."
Once they were seated, Kunikida immediately launched into a summary of the case, highlighting key findings and strategic points. Andrew listened intently, occasionally nodding but letting Kunikida take the lead. The room held a quiet intensity, and Fukuzawa’s patient, attentive demeanor provided the grounding they both needed.
When Kunikida finished, Fukuzawa turned his attention to Andrew, his expression softening almost imperceptibly. "Andrew, what’s your perspective on this?"
Andrew didn’t hesitate, his response calm and measured. "I agree with Kunikida's analysis, but I think there's an additional angle we might consider. The suspect has connections with other local groups—smaller ones, mostly overlooked by police due to lack of resources. If we can map out those relationships, it may give us a clearer picture of their motives."
Kunikida found himself nodding, impressed by the way Andrew pieced together subtle details. It was something Kunikida occasionally missed in his drive for efficiency and order, but Andrew's perspective added depth to their planning. Fukuzawa, too, seemed pleased, his eyes carrying a hint of approval.
“Then, that’s settled,” Fukuzawa said. “Kunikida, take the lead on strategy. Andrew, coordinate with Katai for any network tracing.”
Kunikida gave a small nod, catching Andrew’s slight smile at the mention of Katai. They’d developed an odd bond—Katai, reclusive and jittery, and Andrew, patient and quietly persistent. Despite Katai’s tendency to avoid others, he seemed comfortable with Andrew’s respectful silence, and Kunikida appreciated that Andrew checked in on the man even when there was no mission at stake.
They stood, ready to leave, when Fukuzawa’s calm voice stopped them. “One more thing, Kunikida. Andrew. There’s a high probability that this case may turn dangerous. Be prepared.”
Kunikida squared his shoulders, acknowledging the weight of Fukuzawa’s words. Andrew, as always, simply gave a respectful nod, but Kunikida noted the shift in his posture—just a fraction more alert. It was these moments, Kunikida realized, where Andrew’s steadfastness brought him reassurance. In moments of doubt, when Kunikida questioned his ideals or felt the burden of leadership pressing down, Andrew's presence reminded him that he wasn’t alone.
They left Fukuzawa’s office in silence, the words unspoken between them. As they made their way down the hall, Kunikida turned to Andrew, his voice low but resolute.
"Andrew. I know you’ll take the necessary precautions, but... don't push yourself too far for the sake of the mission. We can’t afford to lose anyone."
Andrew met his gaze, his expression thoughtful. “Understood. I’ll keep that in mind.”
Kunikida gave a small nod, hoping his words had made an impact. But he knew Andrew well enough to sense the barriers the man had carefully built around his emotions—a defense mechanism that even Kunikida couldn’t easily penetrate. Still, there was a mutual respect and understanding between them, one that transcended words.
As they reached the common area, they found Ranpo lounging on a couch, munching on a snack. He looked up with a glint of amusement in his eyes. “Ah, the agency’s serious duo. Are you two planning on taking down the entire criminal underworld by yourselves?”
Andrew offered a subtle smirk, humoring Ranpo’s antics. “Only if you’re not up for it, Ranpo.”
Ranpo laughed, clearly entertained, and Kunikida couldn’t help but feel a surge of gratitude. Despite Ranpo’s often playful arrogance, there was a depth to his understanding of the people around him that few saw. He saw through Andrew’s reserved exterior, and while Ranpo enjoyed teasing, Kunikida knew he respected Andrew deeply.
Andrew, for his part, met Ranpo’s jests with patience, his eyes carrying a hint of amusement as he allowed Ranpo his moment. There was a familial quality in these interactions, a camaraderie that grounded Kunikida amidst the weight of his responsibilities.
Just as he was about to continue briefing Andrew, Yosano entered, her sharp gaze shifting between the three of them. “Are we ready to go, or are we just standing here wasting time?”
Kunikida’s usual restraint gave way to a slight frown, but Andrew only nodded at her, his respect for Yosano evident. Despite their differences, Kunikida could see the quiet bond they shared—a mutual understanding forged through past experiences and a shared sense of duty. Yosano had a way of challenging Andrew’s stoicism, and while Kunikida knew her boldness sometimes pushed Andrew to confront uncomfortable truths, he admired the balance their contrasting personalities created.
Before Kunikida could redirect their focus back to the case, Katai suddenly emerged from a nearby room, looking bleary-eyed and holding an array of papers. “I… I think I found something on that suspect’s network,” he stammered, almost shrinking as he handed over the notes.
Andrew took the papers with a nod, his expression calm and reassuring. "Good work, Katai. Let’s go over this together."
The gentle acknowledgment seemed to ground Katai, who nodded with a shy but appreciative glance. Kunikida knew it was a simple gesture, but for Katai, who often preferred the shadows, it was significant. Andrew’s quiet support gave Katai confidence, and Kunikida found himself grateful that Andrew was a part of their team, his presence subtly guiding them all forward.
With the team gathered and Katai's intel in hand, Kunikida led them toward the briefing room, ready to dive back into their work. As they settled in, he felt a renewed sense of purpose.
As Kunikida took his place at the head of the table, Andrew, Ranpo, Yosano, and Katai sat around him, each bringing their distinct energy to the room. Despite the familiarity of these mission briefings, there was an unspoken tension lingering in the air—a sense that this case would lead them into territory they hadn’t ventured before.
Kunikida cleared his throat, refocusing everyone’s attention. “The case today is… unusual,” he began, pulling up a series of projections on the screen. “Two weeks ago, a man named Shingo Noguchi contacted the agency, concerned about his missing wife. She disappeared after a strange encounter with a fortune-teller in an alleyway off Kisaragi Street. Since then, Noguchi has been receiving letters in her handwriting—only the letters don’t make any sense. They’re cryptic, almost dreamlike, referencing a ‘well’ and something about a ‘place with no beginning and no end.’”
The team’s interest piqued, but it was Ranpo who spoke first. “A well, huh?” He tilted his head, intrigued. “That sounds… eerie. Almost like something out of an urban legend.”
“Indeed,” Kunikida replied, clicking to the next slide. “This isn’t an isolated incident. Three other individuals have reported similar disappearances of family members or friends who visited this fortune-teller. And in each case, they left behind letters describing the same well, the same endless place.”
Andrew leaned forward, scanning the letters Kunikida displayed on the screen. “Any chance these letters were written under duress? Something intended to lead us into a trap?”
“Possibly,” Kunikida admitted. “But the strange part is that, according to Noguchi, his wife had no history of writing in such cryptic language. She was an accountant—a logical, grounded person. And yet… here we are.”
Yosano leaned back, crossing her arms. “So, you’re telling me we have people vanishing without a trace, then leaving behind poetic letters about wells and eternity. Seems we’re dealing with something that goes beyond ordinary crime.”
Katai, normally reserved, ventured to speak up. “What if it’s… uh… hypnosis?” His gaze darted around, as if seeking permission to continue. “Or… some kind of mind control? It’s not like that hasn’t happened before.”
Ranpo smirked. “Or they fell in a well and found another dimension. Wouldn’t put it past the world these days.”
Andrew suppressed a grin. “Unlikely, but it’s worth considering. Katai, you’re our tech specialist. Can you trace the origin of these letters? Maybe there’s some digital trail or timestamp that could give us a lead.”
Katai nodded, looking a bit more focused. “I’ll get right on it.”
Kunikida straightened up, glancing at each member. “Given the unusual nature of this case, I want everyone working on separate aspects. Ranpo, I want you to investigate the alleyways in Kisaragi Street. See if you can locate this fortune-teller or gather any information on their whereabouts. Yosano, if you can find out more about the victims’ mental and physical health prior to their disappearances, it could give us a clue. Andrew and I will handle questioning Noguchi and tracing any remaining family members of the other victims.”
Ranpo grinned, clearly excited by the prospect of tracking down a mysterious figure. “A fortune-teller with mind-altering powers? I’m in.”
Kunikida shot him a glance that was somewhere between caution and exasperation. “This is a serious case, Ranpo. Let’s keep the theatrics to a minimum.”
“Of course, of course,” Ranpo replied, not sounding very convincing. “I’ll be serious. Seriously curious.”
With their tasks assigned, the group prepared to head out. But before they dispersed, Fukuzawa himself appeared at the door, catching them all by surprise. His usual stoic expression softened as he addressed the team. “Be cautious,” he advised, his gaze lingering on each of them in turn. “Something about this case feels… unsettling.”
Kunikida gave a respectful nod, reassured by the quiet strength Fukuzawa’s presence brought to the room. “We’ll be careful, sir.”
---
Hours later, Kunikida and Andrew found themselves seated across from Shingo Noguchi in a dimly lit tea house, which seemed to only heighten the mystery surrounding the case. Noguchi, a wiry man in his forties, looked haunted, his eyes darting nervously as he recounted the details of his wife’s disappearance.
“It was so strange,” Noguchi whispered, clutching his tea as though it were his only anchor. “She was always skeptical of that sort of thing. But she insisted on visiting this fortune-teller, said she felt… drawn to them.”
Andrew listened intently, his expression as calm as ever, though Kunikida knew him well enough to sense his growing unease. “And the letters she left behind?” Andrew asked. “Was there anything specific she mentioned? Any place she frequented that could be connected to this well?”
Noguchi shook his head. “No. That’s what’s so baffling. She had no ties to any wells, no strange habits. It’s like something in her changed after that encounter.”
Kunikida exchanged a glance with Andrew. “Mr. Noguchi, would you be willing to show us where your wife met this fortune-teller?”
Noguchi hesitated but eventually nodded. “I’ll take you there tomorrow. But be warned—it’s not a pleasant place.”
As they wrapped up their meeting and stepped back into the night, Andrew broke the silence. “Kunikida, this case… it doesn’t feel right. Almost as if we’re dealing with something beyond the usual criminal motives.”
Kunikida frowned, turning the situation over in his mind. “I agree. But that’s why we need to be methodical. We’re not jumping to conclusions here, not without evidence. We have to approach this logically.”
Andrew gave a small, almost resigned nod. “I just… I have a feeling that logic may only take us so far.”
The next morning, the agency regrouped, each member bringing their findings and insights. Ranpo had managed to locate a handful of alleyways off Kisaragi Street that matched Noguchi’s description, though the fortune-teller remained elusive. Yosano reported that the missing individuals had no history of mental illness or unusual behavior prior to their disappearances.
Katai, who had been running a background search on the fortune-teller, found a peculiar thread. “It seems they have connections to a few underground organizations,” he reported, slightly breathless from the tension in the room. “People call them ‘The Keeper of the Well.’ Apparently, this isn’t the first time they’ve been associated with strange disappearances.”
Ranpo perked up at this, looking oddly amused. “A self-styled ‘Keeper of the Well’? You’d think people would come up with a better title.”
Despite the levity, Kunikida felt the weight of the situation pressing down on him. “This ‘Keeper of the Well’ may be more dangerous than we realize,” he said, his voice low and grim. “If they truly have the power to manipulate people’s minds, then we’re dealing with a whole new level of threat.”
Yosano, who had been quiet, finally spoke up, a glint of defiance in her eyes. “Then it’s up to us to bring them down, whatever it takes.”
Andrew, standing by Kunikida’s side, gave a resolute nod. “We’ll be ready.”
As the team made final preparations, Kunikida felt a chill run down his spine. The letters, the mysterious fortune-teller, the recurring mention of wells—it was like they were being pulled into an intricate, nightmarish story that blurred the line between reality and illusion. And as much as he valued logic, he couldn’t ignore the strange feeling that they were stepping into something far darker than any case they had tackled before.
Their first mission was to locate the alley and try to find clues, but as they set out, each member felt the weight of Fukuzawa’s warning, lingering in the air like an unspoken shadow.