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Within the strong current of the Dotonbori river, even Kunikida-kun’s enraged screams couldn’t be heard.
Dazai mentally chuckled as the space in his lungs gradually filled with filthy water. They were in the midst of investigating the serial theft case targeting foreign tourists in Osaka's famous Dotonbori district. All the local law enforcement could deduce was that the thief was an ability user—no MOs, no patterns, no witnesses. They couldn’t even get a proper account from the alleged victims due to the language barrier.
Someone higher up finally decided to cut their losses, and so the case landed in the Armed Detective Agency’s lap.
Since he figured out about ninety percent of the case when they arrived at the vibrant tourist attraction, Dazai took a leap of faith off of Ebisu bridge the moment Kunikida-kun lifted his hand to greet the officers. The strangled look on his face when he realized that yes, Dazai really peaced out the moment they got to the crime scene, and yes, he really heard something vaguely resembling “You’ve got this, Kunikidaaa-kunnn~!!” mixed with the sound of bubbling water was so magnificent that Dazai wished he could print out a banner of that face and put it in front of their agency for advertising purposes.
Oh well. This was an easy case to crack. As the future leader of the agency, Kunikida-kun could solve it himself by tonight at the latest.
And so began Dazai’s adventure of floating down the river along with the trash some pretentious tourists thought they could get away with tossing down. Sometimes he blacked out, but the moment he heard someone screaming to rescue him he quickly woke up to assure the passerbys he’s okay and is just enjoying a leisurely trip down the river.
Some well-intentioned kid even tossed a cardboard [ Do Not Disturb ] sign so he could peacefully drown. The next generation is in good hands.
Around the fifth time that he was startled awake, Dazai could feel the telltale signs of another nightmare incoming. If he recalled correctly, it was when he caught Odasaku bringing takeout curry to the spot at the bar and eating away. It was the first time he heard Odasaku praising something with his whole heart. If Odasaku had put one percent of that eloquence in the book he’s supposed to be writing now, he’d strike it rich with a good publisher.
The memories were getting more painful than the water blocking his airway, so Dazai decided he had enough and dog-paddled his way back to shore to throw up. At least the queasiness of his upper abdomen drowned out the pricking pain in his head. But eventually he threw up all the water, and there was nothing left to distract him from the haunting voice of Odasaku and his stupidly spicy curry rice.
「Currryyyy riceeeee!!」
Well, Odasaku wouldn’t drag his voice out like that, but the point stands. Odasaku was a reticent man, but curry and his kids are the only topics he wouldn’t mind yapping late into the night for.
「Currryyyy riceeeee!!」
This is strange. The nausea and itch and bite finally subsided, yet the voice is still ringing in his ears. Has he finally lost it? Is he under a hallucination right now?
“Old man!! Gimme one curry!!”
A child no older than ten ran across the canal walkway and screamed. No, he’s not the source of Dazai’s headache, though if he keeps it up another minute he might as well be.
「Currryyyy riceeeee!!」
To Dazai’s immense disbelief, he wasn’t on shrooms. It was actually Odasaku’s voice.
It was an untold worry of his that he would eventually forget his friend’s face, voice, laughter, and everything that made up the man Odasaku was. The relief that he would instinctively remember if he heard his friend’s voice again was overwhelmed by the bafflement of ever hearing it again, and so close to yet another whimsical death.
He made his way up and carefully observed the source of the sound—it was a megaphone attached to a food cart that only repeated those two words. A gaggle of mildly drunk salarymen surrounded it to buy some cheap takeouts.
“…”
「Currryyyy riceeeee!!」
People come and go. They heard the chime of the food cart and drifted over, enchanted by the rich smell of curry. He stood observing from far back.
When customers finally left one by one, the owner of the cart turned to look at him. “Hey, the lanky guy watching over there! You wanna buy one super spicy curry? It goes great with beer!”
“…” Dazai made sure to put on a smile as he approached. “Hmmm…I’m not sure. It does smell delicious—but exactly how spicy is it?”
“Well, I certainly wouldn’t recommend it for the faint of heart!” The owner laughed. Dazai was supposed to laugh too, but he couldn't.
An awkward moment passed.
“…”
“…”
‘I messed up.’ He was supposed to be the carefree and eloquent detective on the side of good. It was so easy normally. A demanding smile gracing his lips as eyes took in the enemies surrounding. A gangly arm over someone’s shoulder as nimble fingers pickpocket the case’s evidence in broad daylight. Feet kicking Kunikida-kun into the pool to make a fool out of the man and divert suspicious gazes from the shadow. Normally, it was so easy to make a fool of himself to get his objective.
Normally.
「Currryyyy riceeeee!!」
The words meant to come out were stuck in his throat. Instead, he blurted out with uncharacteristic meekness.
“Um…where did you find this recording?” Dazai coughed to get his voice together. “I mean—do you mind telling me the person who recorded this?”
The owner was weirded out, and Dazai found himself fidgeting under his gaze. Normally, he would never fidget. Any indecisive acts were carefully calculated lies meant to deceive others. Calculations of which disappeared from his brain the moment he heard that voice.
「Currryyyy riceeeee!!」
He was defenseless right now. Dazai hated this feeling.
“Oh, this?” The owner took the megaphone down from the top of his cart and showed it to Dazai. “Now that’s one nostalgic story—nearly ten years ago now, I think? There's this kid who crashed my cart as he was running away from something—all while wearing those thick postal uniform. When I asked 'What’s the big idea?!' do you know what he said? ‘My apologies, but I need to deliver this gun to a kidnapped billionaire so I’m short on time.’ And then he vanished!Can you believe that?”
‘There were times we had to deliver some development parts while avoiding the attacks of industrial spies, or deliver a real gun to a billionaire who had been abducted.’
The memories dulled his thoughts, and Dazai's voice came out strangely, “…sounds like an interesting story.”
「Currryyyy riceeeee!!」
“I know, right? He was so earnest that I almost believed it. But the craziest part was that he actually came back three days later to pay for reparations. Here I was stressing out about how I’m going to make ends meet without my shop and he just waltzed in with a wad of cash. It’s his fault to begin with, sure, but I was just so relieved that we ended up chatting a bunch while the mechanic fixed up my cart.”
Dazai could imagine it all too well. That sounds just like what Odasaku would do.
“He actually taste-tested the first batch of curry I made after the cart was revamped—gotta test to see if the flavor is still the same with new appliances, you see. Even with the same technique and recipes, small hijinks in the cookware could alter the taste. Anyways—he was so enthusiastic about it that I ended up letting him cut the ribbons and do the recording for the advertising megaphone here."
「Currryyyy riceeeee!!」
“…”
A thousand plans ran through his mind to trick the owner into relinquishing the megaphone to him. It would be so easy. The man is nothing compared to the depth that is Dazai’s own mind.
“…can you give me that?” Dazai squeaked out. “…please?”
The owner blinked at the shyly whispered request.
It might have been a life of much shame, yet this was the most embarrassing moment of the long life he led on this oxidizing planet.
「Currryyyy riceeeee!!」
Kunikida flew onto the ceiling. Dazai nearly died laughing when he slammed back down to bed. If looks could kill, Dazai’s ashes would already be vaporized.
“Good evening, Kunikida-kun! Since you are all cuddled up in your pajamas, I take it the case’s closed already?”
“DAZAI!!” Kunikida bellowed out and grabbed the nearest object, which happened to be the pillow he was sleeping on before Dazai blasted the megaphone at full volume, to throw at him. “Where have you been all day today?! No—how dare you disappear the moment we get to the case—”
“Yes, yes, Kunikida-kun already found and arrested the gacha store clerk in the second alley to the west of the bridge, and he did such a wonderful job that the local officers might be so ashamed that they’d throw their hats into the river. You are getting better at this, Kunikida-kun! As expected of the man who will be succeeding our Agency in the near future!”
His current partner made a defeated noise in the back of his throat, “…the culprit’s motive for the case is his distaste for foreigners ‘not bothering to know the basic etiquette before coming and treating their vacation as an excuse to let loose’. He held onto the resentment for a long time, but given the case is relatively recent, and the man is suspiciously good at pickpocketing for a first-time criminal, we are assuming possible collaborators or masterminds working behind him. But this case in particular is closed. We’re cleared to go back to Yokohama tomorrow.”
“Aww man! You work wayyy too fast—can’t we stay another day for sightseeing?”
Kunikida glared, “Don’t joke with me. You already had an entire afternoon today to oaf around. I should be the one complaining—if you already figured it out then we could've both taken the time off without spreading weird rumors about the Agency’s suicidal staffs!”
“Sowwy!” Dazai lightly knocked the megaphone on his head and strikes a cute pose. Kunikida gave a revolting look when he winked affectionately. “As an apology, I got us some curry! Aren’t I nice?”
“Curry.” Kunikida made no subtle glance at the clock. “At this hour?”
“Yep!”
“Fifteen minutes past twelve. In the morning.”
“Uh-huh!”
“I’m going back to sleep.”
Before Kunikida could pull the comforter over his head, Dazai yanked it away. “Now, now, Kunikida-kun! It’s super delicious curry—sure, eating curry at night might give you heartburns and indigestions and sleep problems, but once you taste it you’ll never look at curry the same again! Strike when the iron’s hot—or when the curry’s warm, as they say!”
“Then just microwave it in the morning.”
“But the magic of curry will be gone by then. Didn’t you know, Kunikida-kun? Guilty pleasures like midnight snacks are best enjoyed before going to sleep because you end the day feeling satisfied!”
“Really?”
“Really! And all the yelling made you hungry, right? You aren’t sleepy anymore, so might as well eat and get some peaceful sleep!”
As expected of the man with the infamous silver tongue. Kunikida made sure to eat the ideal nutritious dinner exactly three hours before bed, yet his stomach now rumbled. Dazai had the look of a satisfied clown on his face, and Kunikida was tempted to physically knock it off.
“…fine, I’ll eat.” Kunikida got up and followed Dazai to the table, where the bandaged man already had everything set out without prompting, surprisingly. Dazai left the megaphone on his bed instead of tossing it haphazardly in the general direction of his luggage as he had with his coat.
Kunikida opened the curry up before looking at the included condiments. “Worcestershire sauce? In curry?”
“It’s how they do it here in Osaka!” Dazai cheerily crack an egg into his own curry and mixed it up, and Kunikida followed his example.
After the first bite, Kunikida had to reach for the bottled water complimentary with their hotel stay. “Spicy—! What did you put in here?!”
“That’s mean. I didn’t put anything in this time. It’s just how they do curry here.”
“Oh…...my bad. But then what did they put in here? It’s so spicy my tongue is on fire…”
“Hmm…lava, maybe?”
“I doubt it.” Kunikida tried another spoon. “It’s surprisingly salty.”
“Yeah, we ended up talking for a long time.” Dazai had an unexpectedly nostalgic look on his face. “The roux must've boiled off by then. The owner gave us extra rice to make up for it, but I already guessed it’d still be too much…”
“Yeah, you shouldn’t have—”
“Which is why I bought us this! Ta-da!!” Dazai smugly pulled something from the bag. “Beer! Let’s drink today, Kunikida-kun!”
“Have you no common sense?!” Even before Kunikida could finish his retort, Dazai already pulled the tab open and shoved it in Kunikida’s face. “Just who on earth would eat something as heavy as curry and drink beer on top of that—at twelve in the morning!”
“A normal, well-functioning adult?” Dazai joked. “Don’t diss before you try it, Kunikida-kun. This stuff is basically made for drinking. C’mon, try it!”
Kunikida frowned. Dazai was being weirdly insistent today—usually he’d lead people around by the nose and let them come to whatever conclusion he wanted so his own hands would stay clean, yet now he’s shoving the can of beer at Kunikida like there’s no tomorrow.
He’ll probably regret it in the morning. “…you’re right. It does taste better with beer.”
Dazai smiled, “I know, right?”
They both drank the same amount, yet somehow Kunikida was the only one dead on the bed with a terrible hangover, while Dazai was chipper as always. They ended up staying another day in Osaka as that bandage-squandering machine wanted, but Kunikida didn't get any sightseeing done.