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A letter arrived at the Armed Detective Agency one morning. How old-fashioned , Ranpo thought. The envelope was sealed with wax. So, people still did that sort of thing ...
Ranpo had to admit, the seal was a bit cute. The design looked like a cat with bandages over one eye. Odd, but endearing enough that Ranpo took the effort not to break it when he opened the letter.
It read as follows:
Mr. Edogawa,
I would like to meet with you to discuss a problem I believe you can help me with. This may be my paranoia speaking, but I worry the city's future is at stake. I am too shy to share the details of my problem in a letter. If you would be so kind, meet me at Bar Lupin. You will find the address on the back of the page. I'll wait for you.
Best regards,
Tsushima S.
Yosano and Kunikida were interested in this, too. Ranpo showed them the letter.
"So, what do you think?" he asked them after they read it.
"A mysterious letter, just days after a new Port Mafia boss came to power? I don't think that's a coincidence," Kunikida said.
"I'm inclined to agree with Kunikida," Yosano added. "What if it's a trap?"
Ranpo thought for a moment.
"Then I'll go alone," he said.
Kunikida and Yosano looked at each other. Ranpo was serious. They couldn't stop him.
"That's dangerous! What would the director think?" Kunikida asked.
Most children tend to disobey their parents at least once in their life, though. Ranpo may have been an adult, but he was still like a son to Fukuzawa.
"How about what I think?"
Both Kunikida and Yosano sighed. Ranpo continued, "He'd do the same thing. So what if it's a trap set by the Port Mafia? Someone needs to disarm it to keep the Agency safe."
After a bit more arguing, Kunikida and Yosano finally gave up on trying to stop Ranpo.
That evening, he went to the bar that was mentioned in the letter. It was almost empty. Other than Ranpo, there was only a bartender, and a young man who seemed like he was trying too hard to be mysterious.
The man straightened up when he heard the door open. Ranpo noticed his bad posture, though. He also noticed two empty glasses on the counter in front of the stranger, and a half-finished glass of whiskey in his hand.
Ranpo took the seat next to him.
"Tsushima, right? You look like an alcoholic," he said.
The man laughed. "I am," he replied in a hoarse voice.
"Do you smoke, too?" Ranpo asked.
"Every once in a while."
Ranpo frowned.
"You don't like the smell of cigarette smoke, do you?"
For once, Ranpo was caught off guard. It looked like the strange man was smiling at Ranpo's confused expression.
"Just a lucky guess," he said.
The man put his glass down on the counter. His smile faded as he looked at Ranpo again.
"I should tell you why we're here."
He paused. Ranpo said nothing.
"My name is Dazai Osamu."
Ranpo stood up. Dazai reached out and grabbed the detective's hand.
"Don't leave. I don't want to hurt you, I promise."
When Ranpo looked back at Dazai, he saw someone desperate and lonely. Dazai's grip on Ranpo's hand was gentle, as if he was holding something delicate and beautiful. It was hesitant, as if he felt unworthy of touching anyone.
"You don't take care of your skin," Ranpo pointed out.
"Do you want me to?" Dazai asked.
Ranpo sat back down. Dazai let go of his hand.
"I don't care."
"Then why did you say something?"
"Shut up."
Dazai laughed. Then, he called the bartender over.
"Order a drink," he said to Ranpo. "I'll pay."
"Apple juice," Ranpo said.
The bartender nodded, and walked away to get apple juice for Ranpo.
"Do you not like alcohol?" Dazai asked.
Ranpo shook his head.
"It's too bitter. Anyways, are you gonna finish explaining why we're here?"
"Ah, that. Of course. Ranpo, have you heard of the Tripartite Framework?"
"The director mentioned it a couple times, but I don't know what it means."
"That's fine. As long as you know it's what prevents the Armed Detective Agency and the Port Mafia from destroying each other..."
Ranpo nodded.
Dazai continued, "Our organizations have a... delicate relationship."
The bartender, who didn't seem to be listening to their conversation, placed a glass of apple juice in front of Ranpo.
"Hm? Oh, thanks," Ranpo said. He then turned his attention back to Dazai, and asked, "Does that guy work for you?"
"No. He's just an old friend."
"...You're twenty years old."
Dazai held a finger up in front of Ranpo's lips. He didn't touch the other man, though.
"Shh. That's not important."
"Yeah, yeah... so, were you saying you wanna work with the Agency?"
Dazai moved his hand back to his side.
"In a way, yes."
"Why'd you talk to me instead of the director?"
"I..." Dazai looked away from Ranpo. He took a sip from his glass of whiskey. Ranpo could tell that Dazai was nervous.
Instead of trying to reassure Dazai, Ranpo just waited for him to say something. Comforting others wasn't what he was good at, after all.
"Does it matter?" Dazai finally asked.
Ranpo shrugged. It really didn't matter, but he was interested.
"It doesn't. That means it won't hurt to tell me, right?"
He moved the stool he was sitting on a tiny bit closer to Dazai.
"You have an interesting way of thinking," Dazai said. "The truth is, I just wanted to meet you."
After saying that, Dazai slowly turned his head to look at Ranpo. He was smiling. Dazai let out a sigh of relief.
Ranpo reached out to pat Dazai's head.
"You have good taste. In people, at least."
"Why are you petting me?" Dazai asked.
The Port Mafia's boss understood respect, fear, and hatred. He didn't understand soft and warm feelings like love, affection, or happiness. He didn't think he deserved to understand them.
For a moment, he wanted to understand. He wanted to know what it felt like to be cared about.
And he was really glad he washed his hair that morning.
"Why not?" Ranpo asked playfully.
He pulled his hand away.
"I thought... you didn't want anything to do with me," Dazai admitted.
"Don't be stupid. If I really didn't want anything to do with you, I would've left."
"Ranpo..."
Ranpo made eye contact with Dazai. It was only for an instant, but in that brief moment, he saw a universe of untainted loneliness. It was disturbing.
"Thank you," Dazai said, "for coming to talk to me. I'd like to ask..."
Ranpo waited.
"Is it possible for the Armed Detective Agency to... refrain from interfering from the Port Mafia's business? In return, we won't bother you."
For a while, Ranpo was silent. A deal with the Port Mafia? Normally, he wouldn't accept it. It seemed too good to be true. Ranpo asked himself what Fukuzawa would do. He didn't know.
Protect the Agency, he reminded himself. That was the reason he came here in the first place.
Dazai was silent too. He was nervous. He didn't want Ranpo to refuse.
Protect Odasaku, he reminded himself. He suspected that Oda would join the Agency in a few months. Obviously, he couldn't say that was why he proposed this deal. It would reveal too much, especially if he said it to someone like Ranpo.
"You'll have to keep your end of the deal," Ranpo said. "If you don't, I'll personally destroy you."
"That won't be necessary," Dazai assured Ranpo. "I never had any intention of even laying a finger on the Agency."
Ranpo finished his apple juice after hearing Dazai's words. Then, he stood up.
"It's late. You should have dinner. Anyone who can see can tell that you're underweight," he told Dazai.
Ranpo left without waiting for Dazai to respond. On his way back to the Agency, he saw a little black cat. He crouched down, and let the cat approach him so he could pet it. Some of its fur almost looked burnt... Ranpo couldn't help but feel bad for the little guy. It had probably just wanted to be warm.