Chapter Text
“Another one?”
“Huh?”
You look up from your reclining position from the Armed Detective Agency’s sofa – of which there are several – and peer at Yosano, who is squinting at the computer in front of her. Her expression is one of wan exasperation, and her gaze flicks over to you, bathed in the blue glow of the screen.
“Another complaint about Dazai.” Yosano clarifies, rolling her eyes. “Some woman he toyed with – again. I swear, that man should come with his own warning label.”
“What, like, those yellow and black tapes the police use for crime scenes?” you snort, saving your own work. “I don’t think that would help – good-looking guys like Dazai just pull people in like magnets. You can’t listen to him talk for too long or he’d end up persuading you to do all kinds of things.”
“Oh? That’s pretty glowing praise.” Yosano smiles, glancing at you. “Don’t tell me you’re interested in Dazai. I mean, I’d understand for someone who didn’t know what he was like, but you’ve seen him rolling around on the floor because he ate weird mushrooms. I’d hate for there to be heartbreak in the office, even if it would be entertaining.”
You scoff, pushing yourself upright, rolling your shoulders to get out the crick in your neck from lying in such a weird position.
“Hey, I know a good-looking guy when I see one, and I’m really glad to have him as a friend – imagine not being on his side.” You say, with a faint shudder. You’ve seen what Dazai can be like when dealing with his enemies. “That doesn’t mean I’d be stupid enough to take anything Dazai says to heart. That man has enough red flags to start a parade. And his idea of a romantic date would be jumping off a bridge together.”
Yosano laughs, leaning away from the computer and removing her glasses, rubbing between her eyes.
“I need a coffee.” She mutters, getting up from her chair. As she crosses the room, she tosses the question at you. “Hmm, so, what about Kunikida, then? He’s the polar opposite of Dazai – he’s thoughtful, dependable…definitely never had any angry emails from random civilians he’s managed to piss off.”
“He is all those things.” You agree, thinking about Kunikida and constantly walking about with that notebook of his in his hand.
You can’t help but roll your eyes.
“But have you actually heard him talking about all those ‘ideal qualities’ he wants in a partner? It’s like a twenty-seven bullet point list!”
“Yeah, he’s mentioned it before. He talks about it like it he’s trying to buy a car.” Yosano snorts and you point at her, nodding vigorously.
“See! I mean, yeah, I understand there being certain things you value you most in a relationship, but I don’t think anybody could live up to those standards. And also, what about his ‘ideal partner’s standards? What if he met his dream woman and she had conditions of her own for Kunikida? I don’t think he’s ever considered that. Plus, he’s way too uptight and controlling. You’d be expected to give a minute-by-minute report of your day.”
“Yeah, that definitely sounds like something Kunikida would do.” Yosano says, wrinkling her nose as she lets coffee drip into her cup. “And Tanizaki…well, he’s a reliable guy and he’s kind, but he and Naomi are…”
“Yeah.” You say, shuddering.
Neither of you want to go there, and so Yosano swiftly moves the conversation along.
“What about the President?”
You shrug.
“He’s just the President to me, I can’t really say I feel like I know him well enough to have any idea what he’d be like as a partner. I don’t even know if he’s married or ever was and he’s always too busy dealing with all of us. And I can never tell what he’s thinking, it would drive me crazy trying to guess. Plus he’s too old for me.”
“And…what about Ranpo?”
You pause.
“Ranpo, huh?”
You go quiet for a moment as you organise your thoughts, listening to the sound of Yosano preparing her coffee, the slosh of water and the clinking of a spoon. The room fills with the scent of it, something that’s become so familiar to you that despite all the coffee shops in the city, you always think of here first. The Armed Detective Agency takes their coffee very seriously – Kunikida almost uppercut Dazai when Dazai pretended to have smashed his favourite mug as a joke. He just can’t resist poking the bear.
“I mean…he’s a genius.” You say, which feels inadequate to summarise all that is Ranpo’s towering intellect. It’s like calling a skyscraper ‘a big building.’ “I mean, it’s thanks to Ranpo that the Armed Detective Agency is here at all, and he’s helped get us out of a lot of tricky situations, especially for Atsushi. Of course I have huge respect for Ranpo, he’s amazing.”
You go quiet, feeling your face warming and you hope you didn’t sound like you were gushing. Yosano sips her coffee, watching you with alert magenta eyes.
“But?” she says softly.
“Well, I don’t know, I wouldn’t exactly call Ranpo relationship material? He’s either hanging out here eating sweets or he’s chasing cases. I don’t know if he’d even have the time to dedicate to going out with someone. And he’s so childish sometimes that all the responsibilities would fall on you. It’s hard to picture him really stepping up to protect you if you were in trouble. That’s not really him, you know what I mean?”
You sigh, and it’s a loaded sigh.
“I guess…I just don’t really see Ranpo as a man.”
~
From behind the door, Ranpo draws back. Without making a sound, he retreats from the break room and walks away, his shoulders stiff.
Your words, stated so plainly, had hit him like a slap in the face. He hadn’t thought much of listening in on you and Yosano’s conversation – he had been napping instead of going on a mission with the others, it wasn’t his fault if neither of you had thought to check if anyone was still there or that they might wake up and hear you. But now, his ears burning, an unfamiliar unease stirred in his stomach.
You didn’t see him…as a man?
Ranpo had never thought much about how he came off to others. He knew he was different from most people, and he had come to accept it, because he was a genius. He didn’t have to explain himself to ordinary folks who couldn’t possibly understand him, so he acted the way he felt like acting in the moment. Social niceties oftentimes seemed to him a pointless blanket to cover what people really wanted to say. There were so many rules about how you were supposed to act and, to him, most of them were arbitrary and summarily dismissed.
But this was different. You weren’t just some garden variety idiot that Ranpo was obligated to explain every little detail to before you understood him. You were his friend. Or at least, he thought you were.
Bitterness and reason warred in his mind.
Logically, he knew you had not intended to hurt him. You didn’t even know he was listening and probably assumed he wouldn’t care what you thought even if you were aware of his presence. After all, you weren’t wrong that he’d never shown much interest in relationships, not when there were cases to be solved and candy to be eaten. And he wasn’t the kind of guy to fret much about how manly he was, all the endless posturing ordinary men did, buying the latest gadget or bragging about their muscles or how many women they dated. That kind of thinking was outdated and more suited for animals than people, to a genius like him.
Yet even with this reasonable logic in mind, he couldn’t deny your words stung.
Just who the hell were you to judge him, anyway? Gossiping about him like a fishwife like you didn’t have plenty of flaws of your own. Your intellect didn’t even come close to his – so what if you could catch a train or remember to pay your electric bill? In the grand scheme of things, who had contributed more? You, with your ordinary common sense, or Ranpo, the genius detective who solved the unsolvable? You couldn’t solve a mystery with a glance like he could. Nobody could – not like him.
Maybe he didn’t seem like a man to you because there simply were no men quite like Ranpo Edogawa.
Yet even as he mentally defended himself, tearing you down in his head to assuage his stung pride, he knew that he was thinking it because of his feelings. Emotions, in Ranpo’s experience, were such frustrating things, they didn’t comply to rules or logic and could not be explained away. But it was normal, surely, to feel this way when somebody he trusted thought so little of him.
And perhaps the worst ache of all was that deep down, through the layers of bravado and deductions, somewhere in a place inside Ranpo that normally never saw the light of day…he wondered if maybe you were right.
“Oh, Ranpo! You’re awake.”
Ranpo’s head snapped up as Atsushi, Kunikida and Dazai entered the agency, the latter duo squabbling in the background. Atsushi had a cheerful smile on his face, as if he was greeting Ranpo after a week away instead of seeing him that very morning. But that was Atsushi for you, always so happy to see everyone was okay.
The door to the break room opened and you and Yosano filed out, and Ranpo quickly looked away as if he’d glanced at the sun.
“About time you three got back, any new leads?” Yosano asked, hand on her hip.
As Atsushi began to explain to her where they’d been – Ranpo already knew they’d gone downtown towards Suribachi, his skin prickled. He couldn’t expect everyone else to know he was upset when he hadn’t said or done anything to indicate as such, but the desire to confront you right then and there was growing in him like an impending explosion.
Who are you to decide who I am?
But he didn’t. He bit his tongue, because he recognised this as one of the few times where staying silent was more practical. To start throwing around accusation now when he was riled up would only lead to confusion and a lot of tedious explaining. First, like any case he’d worked on, he needed evidence. Data. He needed to gather more intel before he could do what he always did, shoot through the web of accusation, lies and deceit with razor-sharp intellect. With his close ally, the truth.
“Ranpo?” Kunikida said, snapping Ranpo out of his musings. “What do you think?”
“What?” Ranpo said, then waved a hand. “Whatever, this doesn’t interest me.”
Nothing would happen that would seriously endanger anyone, so he didn’t need to intervene. Let the normal people sort it out themselves – he had a more important matter to attend to. He turned and headed for the stairs.
“Ranpo?” Your voice halted him for a moment. “Where are you going?”
He glanced behind you, and you hesitated. You’d never seen that look on Ranpo’s face before. He was normally so easy-going, full of both childlike enthusiasm and the zen confidence of someone who had looked at the chess board and already knew how the pieces were going to move. His eyes were open, which was a rarity in itself, seeing a glimpse of the beautiful vivid green and he looked at you with a sharp, almost angry stare that made you falter.
“Ranpo…?” your voice came out smaller this time, more uncertain.
“I have something to do.” He said in a cold voice. “Figure it out yourselves.”
He didn’t stop to wait, heading out the door and jamming his signature hat on his unruly black hair, his expression set in determination.
The World’s Greatest Detective had something to solve.