Chapter Text
I hummed as I flipped the pancake. Today is the day I’ll make the perfect soufflé pancakes. I’ve been spending 2 whole weeks trying (and failing) to prepare them afterall, that, and plus, today my husband is home! I haven’t seen him since the beginning of last month. I’ve missed him, but oh well, he’s busy with work, and there’s so little I could’ve done to stop him.
I frowned. My supposed-to-be-fluffy pancakes are flattening. Again. This got to be a curse. Whatever. I’ll just serve it as a normal pancake then.
Sometimes I wonder if I am even meant to be a house wife. I mean, I can cook decent—edible—food, clean (though it is the mess I created in the first place, since Osamu is, surprisingly, organized), take care of our child, Milo—she is a toy poodle I adopted when I was mad at Osamu for not showing up to our first anniversary date, Osamu hates dogs, he grew a soft spot for Milo after a while though. Now that I think of it, I am a good house wife! I grinned and nodded to myself.
“Holy-” I cursed when I looked back down at the pan. I'd been so lost in thought that I forgot to flip the pancake. Great. Just great. Now I need to throw this burnt pancake away.
“Having trouble cooking again?” I flinched. When did Osamu even get here?! I swear he would make a great assassin. Or maybe a mafia boss? I could almost laugh at that thought. No way my sweet Osamu would ever be any of those two. How did the mafia boss even came to mind? They’re not exactly known for their stealth, no?
“Osa! You startled me!” I turned around and gave him a disapproving look.
“Sorry~” he hummed, looking over my shoulder to the burnt pancake. “I see my dear wife is having trouble making some simple pancakes~” he teased, while I huffed.
“You know what? Just for that, I’m now giving the burnt pancake instead of making a new one.” Osamu let out an exaggerated gasp in response.
“Hmph. Fine. I’ll just wait at the table while you prepare me a new pancake.” He sounds so childish I could mistake him for a 10 year-old.
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“Here. Happy?” I asked as I placed a plate stacked with pancakes, fruits and whipped cream in front of Osamu. The pancakes still turned out flat. Urgh.
“Looks good.”
“See? You just need to trust the process.” I grinned, pride written all over my face.
“I thought you were making soufflé pancakes.”
“We…don’t talk about that.” Osamu chuckled and I blushed from embarrassment. Dang it. He’s too smart for his own good sometimes. “Anyways…” I quickly changed the topic, “I was reading this one book-”
“Quickly changing the topic much~?” he teased, interrupting me.
“Shut up..” I huffed, annoyance rather than anger laced my tone. “As I was saying before I got interrupted by someone…” I fixed a playful glare at him, in which he returned with an innocent smile. “I was reading a book, a romance book to be exact, and of course the iconic line: ‘I would burn the world for you’ popped up, I was wondering… Would you do that for me?”
“Of course.” he answered without hesitation.
“Please don’t. It’ll contribute to global warming and that’s bad.” Osamu laughed at that and I couldn’t resist the urge to join him. His laugh was almost infectious.
“Global warming? Really? That’s the first thing you thought of?”
“My line of thought is weird, you know that. Another question… Would you kill for me?”
“Mhm,” Again, he didn’t even take a second to think over his decision. “But I’m guessing you don’t want me doing that either?”
I nodded. I don’t want my husband getting locked up in jail due to murder and I certainly don’t want anyone to die either.
“I thought so.”
“Osamu, would you live for me?”
This time, he sure took his time to think over the question.
“Yes.” he answered firmly.
He answered it with such sincerity in his voice, I was inclined to believe it.
I never caught on to the lies spilling from his mouth.
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“How about we go out somewhere? Touch some grass, reconnect with nature and get vitamin D for once. I haven’t gone outside for anything other than groceries for a month now! And as much as I love just watching Netflix with you, I miss going outside with you more.” I suggested after we finished our third rewatch of My Dress Up Darling.
“Hmm? Where would you like to go?” Osamu asked in a lazy tone.
“I don’t know! Anywhere!”
“Anywhere?” A mischievous glint appeared in his eyes.
“I feel like I’m going to regret this, but yes.”
“Alright! Get up! I know just the place.”
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“Osa… How many times have I told you that I’m not athletic?" The building decorated with neon strips stared down menacingly at me.
“It’s laser tag, it won’t kill you~” Osamu chirped, taking my hands and dragging me inside.
We were greeted by a lady with short brown hair, a warm smile on her face. She quickly glanced at Osamu’s bandages (since we’re now outside, Osamu had put back on his bandages to cover his scars) but she was professional enough not to comment about them. “How may I help you today?”
“We booked a room and unlimited rounds of laser tag under the name of Dazai.” I glared at him as he flashed her a charming smile. I swear he tries to flirt with every woman he comes across. Why did I marry this man again?
“Ah, Dazai san, please, let me escort you to your room, but first, let me give you these wrist bands.” The staff stepped around her counter, handing us each one black rubber wrist band.
After walking and turning a few corners, we stopped in front of a door. “This is the room you booked.” She opened the door to the room.
The room was mostly dark with neon lights being the main source of light. It has a big sofa, 2 chairs which design matches the sofa and a glass table. It looked way too big for 2 people.
“You could order unlimited drinks on our menu via the tablet provided for you,” She paused, turning around back to the open door before continuing. “And this is the laser tag arena,” She gestured toward the door close opposite our room. “You could play for unlimited time for your whole time here. You would need to join others, the game would be in 2 teams.”
“Damn. This room is nice.” I commented after we thanked the staff and she left.
“Don’t forget why we’re here.” Osamu reminded me as I was just about to sink into the soft leather sofa.
“One round.”
“That won’t even be worth the price.” He makes good points, I have to admit that.
“So how are we doing this? Should we split up? I want to beat you.” Osamu smirked as if he had already won, which I’ll make sure won’t happen.
“Competitive much?”
“Loser pays the tab for dinner.”
“Your money is the money that I give you. It doesn’t make a difference.”
“If you gave it to someone, it’s already rightfully theirs.” I argued.
“Whatever you say,” He stopped in front of the laser tag arena door, pulling the door open, he bowed down and a half-teasing-half-charming smile. “Ladies first.”
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The first thing I saw upon entering the room was the vests, glowing censors on them to indicate when the player got shot, the censors have 2 colors—red and blue—which shows the team you’re on, next to them are the guns, which came in only one size. There is also a big screen at the top showing the time left before the next round starts, the timer was at 3:27. Apparently you could sabotage your teammates, I wonder if anyone would do it.
There is also a group—no, 2 groups—of people. One contained a teenage boy wearing a farmer’s hat with the biggest and most innocent smile I’ve ever seen on his face, another teenage boy with a very unique hair, black with white at the end of his side bangs, who look as if he doesn’t want to be here, stood next to the farmer boy (I hope that isn’t offensive) and a brick red haired man watching the 2 boys quietly while they chat about farming.
The other group contained a lady with short black hair decorated by a golden butterfly pendant, she was wearing a skirt. Why is she wearing a skirt to a laser tag?! A teenage boy with closed eyes bothered her about something and a blonde man, pushing up his glasses for the third time I’ve been standing there, he gave the other two some instructions, it was so loud that even I could hear it from where I stood, though it seems like the his teammates aren’t paying attention to him at all.
The 2 groups seemed to know each other, given their interactions. Osamu and I had already decided to split up, so now I have to make the decision on which group I’m going to join. I picked the first group, mainly due to the fact that I don’t want to deal with the blonde man in the other group.
I walked to the first group. “Um, excuse me, would you mind if I join your team?”
“Not at all,” The farmer boy happily replied. “We would love to have you!”
“Go ahead.” The brick red haired man gave me a subtle nod.
The last member of the group just glared at me and said nothing.
“What’s your name, miss?” The little boy tilted his head. I already adore him.
“Oh, you could call me Dazai,” I made sure to wear a polite smile. “And may I know yours?”
“I’m Kenji! It’s nice to meet you!” The farm—I mean Kenji—replied.
“Oda, I feel the same as Kenji.” The man replied calmly.
“Akutagawa.” The unique haired boy hissed. What did he say again? Atutagaga? Who in their right mind named their child that?!
“It’s a pleasure to meet you all, I’m not good with names, so please feel free to correct me if I forgot or mispronounced your name,” I thought for a second before adding to Atutugaga, “Could you repeat your name again?”
“Akutagawa.” This time he made it clearer. Ah. Akutagawa, not Atutagaga, noted.
I looked over to see how Osamu was doing, he seemed to be fine, talking with the members of his team, although I haven’t seen him smile even once, maintaining a neutral expression the whole time. Is there something wrong? He normally smiles all the time.
My attention was pulled back from the sound of Kenji’s voice. I really have to stop zoning out. I didn’t even hear what he asked.
I turned to face Kenji. “Sorry, but could you repeat your question again?”
“Oh don’t worry, I was just asking if that is your friend, since you entered together.” Kenji pointed toward Osamu.
“Kenji, don’t point. It’s rude.” Oda semi-scolded.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean for it to be rude…”
Seeing how the boy turned gloomy by Oda’s remark, I quickly waved my hands frantically. “No. No. It’s fine. And to answer your question, no he’s not my friend, he’s my husband.”
“Why aren’t you together then?” Poor Kenji seemed as confused as a little kitten trying to solve a hard algebraic expression.
“Because… I want to beast his as—I mean butt. Yeah,” Most teenagers these days are already exposed to swearing, but Kenji seem to be in the minority here. “I hope we work well together!”
Oda gave me a small nod, Kenji let out a cheerful ‘mhm’ and Akutagawa…just glared at me. Did I do something to piss this hella scary kid off? I decided to ignore the piercing cold glare directed to the side of my head.
“How did all of you meet? Your ages are pretty diverse.” I am genuinely curious about what their relationship is. I at first thought Kenji was Oda’s son, but given how different they look, I don’t believe in that theory anymore.
“We’re colleagues.” Oda’s answer shook the words out of my brain. Colleagues? You mean little Kenji is working? I have a million questions swirling around in my mind, but I couldn’t do anything except stare at them, mouth agape.
Oda, after observing my reaction, carefully added. “We work at a detective agency.” Now I’m even more confused. What detective? Have I just fallen into a badly written fanfic or something? Is he just messing with me? Probably. I waited, but no one laughed.
Our group fell silent.
“Detective…” I repeated. There’s no way they’re serious. “What do you mean by that?”
“We work at the Armed Detective Agency.” Oda answered casually as if he were talking about the weather. Could any of them read the room here?! This is an absurd situation right now!
“Armed Detective Agency… You’re not messing with me? You really are detectives? If this is all a joke, I’ve probably made a fool of myself. No offense, but you don’t give off detective vibes. So do you solve crimes or something? Like Conan? Do you deal with murderers? Handle government secrets?” Now that my brain finally recovered from the initial shock, I could finally string my sentences together, which means I would now shoot out the most random questions ever.
I didn't realize how loud my voice was until I felt the gaze of the entirety of the other group on me.
“Sorry…” I squeaked.
The big timer on display hit 2:00. A sound of a woman echoed through the room.
“Dear participants, the laser tag would begin in 2 minutes. Please start putting on a game kit. Our staff is here to help you in case of any problems. Thank you for your attention.”
That…kind of saved me from potentially more embarrassment. Thank you announcer.
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Left. Right. Ahead. Nope. No one in sight. Where did everyone go? I know the room is dimmed and filled with barriers, but still, it is unnaturally quiet.
Isn’t that the point? To be quiet and stealthy in laser tag? Oh shut up logic-me.
I wonder if the others are doing fine, Oda had suggested for us to split up. To be honest, if I’m surviving, they’re probably on a rampage.
Hm? Was that…blue light? I’m on the red team so… I readjusted my position to shoot the enemy before me. Who is that? It’s clearly the woman since I could see her skirt’s silhouette. I narrowed my eyes, aimed for one of the blue glowing dots on her vest and…missed. Of course.
Should I go after her? Might as well try, it’s better than staying here being useless, right?
I slowly tip toed from my hiding spot, aiming the laser gun at her, while making sure I didn’t make any noise. Not like she would notice since she was just casually walking, seemingly careless about getting eliminated. Why is she so careless? Is this a trap? My relationship with Osamu had left me with a habit to overthink things. If it’s a trap, I’m falling for it.
Bzz. The blue lights flickered on the woman’s vest flickered, indicating that she was eliminated. Huh. That’s strange. She was on her last life? (Every participant each gets 3 lives, with a 5 seconds immunity period after being hitted.)
With a long sigh, the woman mumbled to herself. “Tsk. I’m eliminated already? My luck is horrible. First Oda took 2 of my lives and now I’m dead by who knows what.”
I wanted to point out the fact that she wasn’t even trying to stay hidden, but that was quite impolite, so I opted to shut my mouth instead.
“Yosano from blue team has been eliminated. Yosano san, please proceed to the exit.” In que of the announcement, the woman, who I now know of Yosano, turned her heels and stalked towards the exit.
It wasn’t a trap afterall.
Back to the hiding spot I go.
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Chatters of many conversations echoed throughout the medium-sized room, clearly intended for no more than 6 people, yet we fitted 8 people in it.
Me, Osamu and the rest of the detectives were in the room Osamu had booked. It turned out after the game of laser tag—which my team had won—that I clicked well with Yosano, and it would be disrespectful to only invite her to join us, would it not?
“So you’re saying that all of you have super powers called ‘skills’ and you handle cases even the police can’t handle?” I questioned skeptically.
“Uh huh.” Ranpo nodded, the lollipop stick in his mouth bouncing up and down.
“Ok. So I was shocked when Oda told me you were detectives, but now I need to accept the fact that you also have super powers. It’s a lot to take in.”
“Is it? You’re husband’s also a skill user. He never told you that?” Ranpo stated as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, he seemed to be confused why I’m still not aware of this very fact.
“Wha- Wait. How did you know that? Plus, he would’ve mentioned it to me a long time ago if he did have it.”
“You should trust Ranpo,” Yosano cut in. “His skill allows him to deduce anything with just a quick glance. I’m sorry to put this in your head, but maybe your man isn’t as honest with you as you originally thought.”
“Prove it. Deduce something about me.” I challenged, if he get anything correct, then I would believe him.
The young detective whipped out his glasses. The glasses have black square frames and look like any other ordinary glasses. I wonder why he needs it. To look cool maybe? After putting it on he began talking. “You are unemployed and is currently taking the role of a housewife, though you are not particularly good at it due to your messy and careless nature. You have no children and does not plan to have one anytime soon, however, you do have a dog, a female toy poodle to be exact, that you consider your child. You’re not athletic and was forced to come here by your husband—”
Ouch. I was just called a bad housewife. I raised my hand to stop him before he could continue. “Ok, ok. I believe you. You’re the real deal. I’ll ask Osamu about the whole keeping his skill a secret thing later. I still have a few questions to ask about your detective agency,” I took a sip of water, after receiving a nod of approval, I continued. “How do all of you operate? I mean, do you take commission or are you assigned to the task? Is there only the 8 of you? No boss? Everyone’s equal?”
“We do take commissions, as for our members, 2 of them are not here as they are busy and we have a boss, again he is currently unavailable, so he couldn’t join us today,” Yasano answered before asking me a question of her own. “I have a question for you too. I was wondering, how old are you? You look very young, but you are married so…”
“I’m 22, almost 23. I know I married young, but he was just the one, you know.” A smile crept on my face as I thought about Osamu. “I got married only 2 months ago actually. What about you, how old are you, Ranpo kun, Yosano sensei?”
“26.”
“25.”
Both replied in unison.
“26…” I repeated. How many plot twists would I face today?! I’m convinced I used up all the plot twists of my life today. “You’re older than me…?” Guess I couldn’t describe him as ‘the young detective’ from now onwards. Should I start calling him ‘Ranpo san’?
The Armed Detective Agency is a weird group of people, that’s for sure. Every unexpected thing are expected from them. Either that or all of this is an elaborate prank and they’ll get a good laugh later. Despite that, I still found them to be some very pleasant companions.
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Before I knew it, hours had already flown by. I mostly engaged in conversation with Yosano, though I did talk to everyone (except Akutagawa, who scares me).
I had already exchanged numbers with Yosano and Oda. I also wanted Kenji’s number, but unfortunately he doesn’t have a phone. Yosano did promise me to relay any messages I have for him to him and vice versa, so I guess that’s that.
Osamu’s social battery seems to be running low. Very low, as he just sat on the sofa, staring vacantly at all the drinking glasses on the table, looking bored and ignoring everyone.
Me, on the other hand, was yapping and gossiping non-stop with Yosano. Our conversation just kept flowing from one thing to another and I felt so comfortable around despite knowing her more…sadistic nature.
As much as I wanted to continue my chat with Yosano and the others, I had to respect Osamu’s silent wishes.
I thanked everyone for giving me a good time and promised to keep in touch.
Before everyone left, Ranpo turned back to me, whispering in my ear. “Last thing, be careful of your husband. He gives me a bad feeling.” He then turned back to the group and left the room.
Ranpo really pisses me off sometimes. He is always egotistic? And why is he always accusing my husband? Does he not know that it’s rude? Even if he did have a skill that could deduce anything and everything, he could still very well be lying to me. So why should I trust him?
But my gut told me to trust him. Luckily for me, I had always trusted my heart—which is dedicated to Osamu—more than my gut.
I should’ve trusted my guts.