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Couples walked past buildings. Men and women, hand in hand, as they focused on one person in a small moment of their life—as if it was the natural state of the world.
Regrettably, Ranpo couldn’t feel anything for it—and if it were a flavor, then it would neither be sweet nor bitter, just another thing to consume.
But he knew what was sweeter than candy. That was what Ranpo thought of Oda’s gesture of buying him some snacks on his way back to the agency after a mission.
Normally, they’d get assigned on missions together—but Ranpo decided to stay behind to teach Yosano how to organize the documents, all whilst another detective got assigned to the mission instead.
“Hm, never seen some of these before.” He held up one candy—and it wasn’t just that one, other candies were unfamiliar brands.
“Imports from other countries.” Oda clarified, sitting down one of the chairs—and eating the store-bought curry he got on the way back.
“Because Valentine’s Day is today?” Yosano suggested, as she was reading one of the mission reports, and Oda nodded—confirming her assumption.
Ranpo snickered. “The only good thing that’s good for, really—more sweets being sold!”
Meanwhile, Yosano’s eyes alit with curiosity. “I thought you’d like it more, since people buy their partners chocolates.”
The prodigy detective swings his legs back and forth as he was sitting on the table—the other two waiting for a reply, “Well, that requires me having a partner in the first place,” he huffs, before adding, “and I have a very specific taste for me to actually want one.”
Oda remained quiet, while Yosano tilted her head—curious. “What is it?”
“Someone who’d spoil me!”
The former assassin doesn’t even react—unlike Yosano, who was still adjusting to the new environment. “That’s…” she pauses for a moment, taking in the answer.
“Who wouldn’t wanna be spoiled by their partner?” Ranpo grins, and Yosano simply blinks—unable to refute such an answer from the agency’s best detective.
“Leave him be, Yosano. That’s how he usually is.” Oda suddenly interjects, while Ranpo just snickers. “Oh come on, you say that as if my type is a bad thing!”
“It’s unusual,” he briefly comments, while Ranpo just rolls his eyes—then smiles at Yosano. “What about you, Yosano? What’s your type?”
“I.. haven’t thought about it much to be honest,” she admits—and Ranpo nods in understanding, the girl was still trying to recollect herself after what had happened to her.
Then, they stare at Oda expectantly, the latter remains quiet as he senses their gaze before making eye contact with Yosano and then at Ranpo. “A…” he starts, before looking outside through the windows, “sharp-witted woman.”
Yosano nods, deeming the answer to be respectable—while Ranpo simply pops another candy into his mouth as he looks away, seemingly done with the subject.
“No comments?” Oda asked, glancing at Ranpo for a split second.
Yosano shook her head, while Ranpo chirped out, “Nope!” Then, he adds, “Most men would be charmed by a sharp-witted woman.”
Oda doesn’t reply at first, simply continuing to eat his curry—before muttering, “...Yeah, they would.”
And so, the topic was never brought up again later that day.
Despite that, it still lingered within Ranpo’s mind as he and Yosano went to buy groceries, the latter holding the list and being the one in charge of navigating through the market.
A sharp-witted woman. It’s not difficult to discern what it entails—but it does strike Ranpo curious to how Oda came to the conclusion that he would want that in a partner.
After all, it was easy to see that the latter was the stoic type simply from their first meeting—almost too professional, but unsurprising given the nature of his former job.
Neither of them really got to spend time with other kids their age to develop crushes—yet they still have their own preferences.
Of course, Ranpo wanted a partner who spoils him. Who wouldn’t want a partner who spoils them? Especially when the affirmation of love is sweeter than any candy.
But in Oda’s case, it was not what Ranpo expected for him. Given the redhead’s personality, the detective thought he would’ve wanted someone who was patient—especially when he’s had a lot to carry.
Or perhaps someone who was kind, one who knows how to ease Oda’s heart.
Lost in his thoughts for a while, Ranpo only blinked when Yosano’s hand that was waving in front of him finally registered. “Ah, my bad, Yosano!” Luckily, she didn’t seem bothered overall, and they went on with their day—continuing with their mundane routine.
A sharp-witted woman. It would not be out of place for a man to like one—albeit not common, with most men preferring them to take a more subservient role to them. In spite of all that, Ranpo could still see traces of his mother in the mirror—with the knowledge that she was sharp-witted and a housewife.
And it is with that knowledge that he takes in a breath that he could never be a woman, but simply a boy. One who has held these stupid, illogical feelings over another boy. Feelings that never felt wrong, but somehow should be hidden—as foretold by society.
As sharp, emerald eyes met forest green hues—he falters momentarily. His face remained impassive, but his expression was glaring at him like he was one of those monsters he had always thought of the world.
And maybe it had always been him. Because when he sees the world as monsters for lying and “betraying” him—Ranpo knows his own reflection feels the same thing whenever he looks away from the mirror.
He knows, he always does.
Always looking away to avoid being reminded that he’s only half the person Oda would want—but Ranpo is aware that, if younger, the boy that was staring right back at him would have been long proud of the detective he’s become. Not once had his sharp-wittedness dulled.
But he can’t see that sharp-wittedness right now—only that he is simply a boy. And, sometimes, that isn’t enough in order to love when the eyes of society only see romantic love in one way.
Ranpo felt footsteps that were too quiet, then splashed water on his face.
“You’ve been there ever since you and Yosano got back.”
He doesn’t need to hear his voice to know who it is, simply knowing that it was Oda.
“Really? Must’ve lost track of time!”
Ranpo opens the door, smiling, and is greeted by Oda’s impassive face.
The former assassin only blinks, but the prodigy detective knows that he was calculating Ranpo’s possible moves in his own way. “Is that so?”
“Why? You worried?” He snickers a bit, despite the idea making him feel giddy—and he knows why, but doesn’t want to reveal it.
“Yeah,” Ranpo froze momentarily. “I am.”
The detective almost forgot how honest Oda could be, especially after leaving behind the professional assassin life.
He leans in a bit, hands behind his back. “Well—you don’t have to be. I’m all good now!”
“...”
Ranpo just takes a step back, looking to the side. “Anyway, in what store did you buy the sweets from?”
“I’ll show you.”
“Eh? Just give me the name! I can ask people for directions,” and Oda stared at him blankly—as if that would magically remind him that he is poor in navigation unless he was using his ability.
“No. Follow me.”
“..seriously? Ugh, more walking.” He huffs, yet follows Oda blindly anyway.
“There’s a chance you could get kidnapped if you ask for directions.”
Ranpo rolls his eyes. “That’s not even a common thing, people are weird but most are nice enough to give directions.”
“Yes, but you have a… talent for putting yourself in danger.” And the detective cringes inwardly, holding his face for a second before letting his arm drop back to his side.
“Well, Fukuzawa-san has always saved me in the right time,” he states, before adding. “...by you too, I guess.”
“You sound unsure of that.” And that was the problem, wasn’t it? He reveals the truth but can’t face a truth.
“Just lead the way to the store,” he huffs, crossing his arms. “...”
And so, they walked in silence. Between two teens with an upbringing like theirs—they have never needed words to understand, they just… did.
Maybe that’s why Ranpo was fretting over this—he just couldn’t help but question himself, and is fearful in return as to why Oda doesn’t seem to be… afraid too.
A hand wrapping around his upper arm stops him from walking, and he looks up to see the door of the candy store Oda was leading him to.
“You can let go now,” and, immediately, he loses that warmth. Without reservations, Ranpo enters the store and gazes around.
Distinctly, he found it strange how he oddly felt more… subdued—and less energetic like he usually would be. Perhaps that’s why he can feel Oda’s stare boring into his back.
As he was about to ask Oda how he knew to pick the sweets Ranpo hadn’t tried yet earlier, he paused in favor of staring at a couple from a distance—you could tell it from their eyes, they were happy.
They weren’t monsters. They were like his parents.
And maybe it was that simple—loving someone could be so simple. But he knows that it is both true and untrue, because to deny the complexity of human nature would be lying to himself once again.
They weren’t monsters for being happy.
Yet somehow, he doesn’t understand why it couldn’t be the same for him and others.
“Ranpo?”
He blinks, and suddenly—the couple was no longer there. “..huh?”
Ranpo turns to look at him, seeing him hold a brown plastic bag—definitely full of sweets. “You’ve been staring at a window for the past few minutes.”
Before Ranpo could reply, he instinctively accepts the plastic bag Oda hands over to him. “I won’t ask.” You don’t want me to know. Is what he heard instead. “Let’s go back to the agency.”
And by the time they were outside the store, they stare at each other—waiting for the other to walk first. Oda waiting to have to keep watch on Ranpo (to fulfill the agency’s purpose)... and Ranpo for not knowing the directions.
Oda sighs for a second before grabbing Ranpo’s unoccupied hand, then leading them back to the agency.
Warm. That was the first word that came into Ranpo’s mind. One that he never thought he would’ve associated with the boy in front of him.
He’s killed people before—he killed someone in front of him in their first meeting. He uses guns—people who use guns are dumb.
And yet… he still likes this guy.
Ranpo knows it’s not just their hands together that feel warm, but that his face has become warm too.
Stupid. And for the first time, it wasn’t directed to anyone else. Why did I have to like you?
It shouldn’t be him who gets to have this. After they grow up, a sharp-witted woman should be here in Ranpo’s place instead—and society would deem it acceptable so, because a monster like Ranpo couldn’t deserve to be happy.
“...”
“Wait,” this isn’t the direction of the Armed Detective Agency—
“We’ll come back later.”
Ranpo snorts. “Are you going to take this opportunity to secretly plot my demise, Oda-kun?”
“No,” He states, before adding, “but I did have something planned.”
Before Ranpo could ask, they stopped at an… area with lots of trees, but at the side of the land, it met the sea where across it lay the buildings of Yokohama.
Oda takes a seat on the grass—staring at the scenery. “If we went back, you would’ve kept being all… quiet.”
The detective snorts, but sits to Oda’s right anyway, hugging the plastic bag of candies close to him. “That’s rich, coming from you.”
The former assassin hums, before adding, “You’ve been quiet since this morning.”
“Well, I was just thinking about things.”
“You always say your deductions,” Oda says, “but you don’t want anyone else to know about this one.”
Ranpo huffs. “I guess you picked up a thing or two about me, huh?”
“More than just that.”
The prodigy detective hums and looks down, and starts to open a candy from the bag. Then, he gazes at those faraway buildings. “They seem so small at this distance.” And Oda nods in agreement.
He continued, “How’d you find this place?”
“I stumbled on it after a mission back then.” he briefly explains, before deciding to add more, “I started to go here… to watch how people operate.”
“..did it help with completing your missions?” Ranpo questions, carefully.
Oda remained quiet for a moment. “It didn’t matter in the end. Not when… what I did in my missions would only be known by one person at the very least, and a few organizations at most.”
So it didn’t matter, huh?
Before Ranpo even realized it, he had already finished all of the candy. Pouting, he closes the brown plastic bag filled with candy wrappers. “...”
“...”
“Oda, what’s a monster to you?”
“Those things that people use to scare children in books?”
Ranpo blinks at first, before huffing. “Well, that’s… an answer too, I guess.”
He doesn’t have to look—he can feel it from the weight of Oda’s stare that he's looking at him now.
“You’re upset about something.”
The detective shuffles uncomfortably a bit, “...gee, what gave it away?”
“I don’t think it matters.” Oda suddenly admits, “On what a monster is, I mean.”
“Huh?”
“Well,” he pauses, “they can be written by many different authors, so it doesn’t matter what a monster is when people interpret it differently.”
When Ranpo goes to look at Oda, he’d expected the latter to have returned his gaze to the buildings across them.
He hasn’t.
Ba-dump.
Ranpo looks away first, just like with the mirror.
Even though Oda wasn’t looking at him like how his reflection would, like he was a monster, it still felt as if he could see through him.
He doesn’t want to look. He doesn’t want to see his reflection in Oda’s eyes and be reminded that he isn’t what he wants.
“Oda, do you think I’m a monster?”
“..what made you think that way in the first place?”
I couldn’t ever be a sharp-witted woman. But he bites his lip, before saying, “Just answer the question.”
“No.” Oda bluntly states. “From the moment we met, you were the only one who wasn’t a monster at that place.”
Crap. He interpreted it differently! Before he could interrupt, Oda kept going.
“Not a monster but odd.” He pauses, “You were in a room with three people who have killed before, yet you kept provoking one, ignoring and being respectful to one, and.. defended me.”
…so it doesn’t matter what a monster is when people interpret it differently. It rings in Ranpo’s head.
Oda sighs, and closes his eyes. “But now one is your boss and we’re…” he pauses, clearing his throat, “co-workers. Even though you know Fukuzawa and I have killed others before.”
“Society wouldn’t accept us, but you did.” And somehow, Ranpo felt as if Oda saw through him again—despite not even looking at him.
And maybe it’s that simple—perhaps he never really needed to dwell on this. Not when he knew he would’ve stayed with them in the first place.
Ranpo blinks, and Oda is holding something out for him. “Here.” Then placing the heart-shaped chocolate on his hands.
His breath hitched. What?
“You’ve always been odd, but it’s weirder to see you so quiet.” Oda admits, and Ranpo doesn’t know whether he wants to whack him or kiss him—but it was the next thing he said that made Ranpo stunned.
“Happy Valentine's Day, Ranpo.”
“I..” Ranpo blinks, eyes darting around—but this time, he doesn’t face away from Oda. “I didn’t get you anything—”
“That’s fine.” Oda cuts in. “I just wanted to give it to you.”
Just for him.
“But I thought your type was…”
Oda raises a brow, before schooling his expression after realizing what he meant. “I didn’t want you to know earlier.” He pauses. “I couldn’t afford for you to guess it before this.”
“You…”
And as Oda was about to look at Ranpo again, he felt lips touch the side of his face. Ranpo was kissing him on the cheek.
By the time he had looked—Ranpo already pulled away and covered the (red) lower half of his face with the chocolate he got him. “Next time, just be honest with me—otherwise, I’ll never do that again!”
“Of course.” He replied, which was all it took for Ranpo to let down his guard and allow himself to look.
And for the first time ever since he joined the agency, Oda smiled.
Ranpo blinks, before scooting closer to him—their shoulders pressing against each other. “...how long are we gonna stay here?” We have to get back to the agency.
“Until you feel better.”
“I already feel better,” he replies, and Oda stares at him briefly before returning his gaze to the buildings across. “Until you finish that chocolate.”
“And if I don’t?” Ranpo grinned.
“Fukuzawa wouldn’t want you to come back late.” He sighed, but seemed relieved that Ranpo seemed to be back to his usual self. “So you should eat it—and it was also expensive.”
Oda pauses, “You could pay me back with another kiss.”
For a moment, that stunned the raven-haired boy, “Let’s just go home,” he quickly mutters.
The former assassin raised a brow, but stood up without question—along with Ranpo standing up as well and dusting off his pants.
Suddenly, Ranpo grabbed his collar and pulled him down slightly for a kiss on the lips. Before Oda could kiss back—the other had already pulled away.
“That was for making me overthink the entire day,” he snickered, before smiling, “but thank you. I feel a lot better now, about everything.”
“Of course,” then, he took a hold of Ranpo’s hand. “Let's go home.”
“Lead the way!”
And, for the two boys, it was okay them to lose their skill in assassination and sharp-wittedness in favor of this moment—and the world would let them find each other, again and again.