Chapter Text
“Now, at what time should I have him killed…”
Poe was sitting at his workstation, the beginning traces of his next work spread out before him. He sat with his legs crossed at the ankles, eyeing the pages as if it were their fault the novel wasn’t progressing as planned. Karl sat contently on his shoulders, watching him work.
“Hm… If I move up the timing of the murder, would the vice minister be able to keep his alibi? He couldn’t have been in his office this time of day… Oh, but that would mean I need a way for the culprit to have earlier access to the scene, too…”
He scribbled something down and sat up, looking across as he did so. “What do you think?”
In the desk adjacent to him, Ranpo leaned back in his seat, head against the wall, exhausted. He’d solved an actual murder the night before, the culprit turning out to be someone who had the ability to infect others with sickenness. Ranpo was able to trap them at a nearby storage house, but they were able to get away, as the detective didn’t have any combat ability to counter. But he was confident the ability-user would be caught—He was scheduled to return to the scene of the crime this afternoon to identify where the culprit ran off to.
To get there, however, Ranpo needed someone to help him navigate the public transportation system. Everyone else claimed to be busy chasing leads or working on other cases (though it didn’t take a genius detective to figure out this wasn’t the case,), so Poe—a loyal friend who would never betray Ranpo like that—was called to play the part.
Legally, a member of an ex-terrorist group would have to tackle a mountain of paperwork and undergo countless legal processes before being granted permission to enter the ADA or even gain access to the specifics of one of their cases. However, no one really seemed to mind Poe’s presence, or even notice it, in fact. Maybe because it wasn’t often he dropped by, but it was always at the insistence of another.
And when Poe had arrived around 2 hours earlier today, Ranpo wasn’t “in the mood” to leave yet, so the two sat here, waiting idly for time to pass by until he was.
“Hm? Why are you so intent on giving the vice minister an alibi? Actually, wait, don’t tell me, you’ve given me too many–cough—spoilers already.”
Poe frowned. “Well, it’s not really spoilers if you don’t know what will make it to the final draft. But I thought—”
“Are you cold?”
“What?” Poe blinked, startled by the sudden question. “N-no. Why? What happened?”
“I’m cold. The AC isn’t on, but—cough—I don’t usually—cough—”
The rest of the sentence was lost as Ranpo broke into a coughing fit, bad enough he had to grab the table to keep from falling over.
“Ranpo…! Are you alright? Here, I’ll get you a glass of water…”
“No!” He sat up suddenly and fixed Poe with a glare. “I’m fine. It’s nothing. I’m just… recovering from what happened yesterday.”
Ranpo crossed his arms and froze suddenly. What was that he felt? Surely it wasn’t… He wasn’t sick, he thought. He had dodged that attack from yesterday. The ability hadn’t hit him. If it had, he’d have felt unwell ever since. So what was happening to him now?
Poe gasped. “Ranpo, you’ve got gooseflesh all over!”
“Goosebumps, Poe. Don’t freak me out.”
“A-are you not worried, though?”
Ranpo didn’t answer, but got up from his seat, and stretched lightly as he pushed in the chair. Karl, who had migrated to his shoulders sometime before, jumped onto the desk and stretched his furry limbs, annoyed for having been woken right as he was about to fall asleep.
“I think I just need some fresh air, a break from being here, y’know? And we should be leaving now, too—it’s almost five.”
Poe stood as well, though a bit of worry was still apparent in his expression. He grabbed his papers and stacked them hurriedly. “Yes, of course. Let’s go.” Ranpo picked one off the floor and extended his arm to hand it back to the author.
That was when he fainted. “Gah!” Poe exclaimed as the other started falling face-down. It was lucky Ranpo was so close and they were both standing—Poe caught him just in time, letting all his papers fall to the floor as he did so.
“Ranpo?! A-are you alright? Poe shook his shoulders, but when Ranpo looked up, he immediately let them go in shock. He didn’t mean to–-the sheer unexpectedness of the situation was just too startling.
He even winced as Ranpo fell flat on his face with a thud and groaned. “Thanks, Poe,” he called up from the floor. It sounded awfully sarcastic.
“My apologies! I’m really very sorry! I just didn’t expect– …er, Ranpo? Are you okay?”
Ranpo got up and shook his hat before he put it back on, a frown etched upon his face. “I’m not sure what that was, but I don’t think I’m doing too well,” he mumbled.
Though he didn't like it, Poe could tell this was obvious. Ranpo stumbled a little after getting up, and seemed a little paler than usual, only confirming that something was wrong.
“Well, you certainly can’t stay here, and we probably shouldn’t go to the storage house either, then..” What should he do? He sighed. “Your safety is why I suppose I’m even here, after all, so...”
Ranpo stood silent for a second, just staring at Poe. Abruptly, he turned to the door and started walking. “Come on, then. Take me home.”