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It was no murder. It was no case of missing persons. No, the matter was akin to either one. And indeed, one would be forgiven for believing that a simple threat scarcely deserved the attention of the greatest detective in all of Yokohama—in truth; Ranpo himself had denied the job foremost. Yet wealth has ever possessed the odd ability to persuade where logic alone might fail. 

The client of this peculiar affair is one blessed with staggering prosperity, renowned for his business acumen, and social standing. Though his name is not wholly unfamiliar to you, your knowledge of him is all but limited—and what remained with you is one noteworthy detail; he governs one of the largest tech companies in the city.

More importantly still, he had, according to Kunikida, "specifically requested our best detective to identify the author of the threat."

To which Ranpo had said; "Hmmm, nope! Indeed I'm the best detective he could ask for, but tell him I'd rather not waste my time."

"Please reconsider, Ranpo! His offer to find the hacker and author of the message is enough to cover the Agency's expenses for the whole month."

The matter succeeded in capturing very little of the Great Detective's interest. Kunikida, meanwhile, had called upon every ounce of patience his soul could have possibly sought to provide. "Ranpo, ple—"

"Don't wannaaa!"

"Just this once—"

"Nope! I said I don't want to!"

"Oh?" Dazai perked up from where he had been neglecting his calling of paperwork. "Sounds like an interesting case. We should take it, wouldn't you agree (y/n)?"

"Huh? Oh, I mean, sure. It does sound like a breath of fresh air compared to the other gruesome cases we just handled."

And upon the interference of both yourself and Dazai, Ranpo proved remarkably easy to convince. His prior disinterest vanished with such abruptness that one might have questioned whether it had existed at all, as though it is but a ghost retreating, with its desire to haunt suddenly deprived.

"Alright, fine!", caved the great detective, adorning a pout of which you'd argue to be the most adorable. 

Such was the conclusion of the debate.

Thus it was upon the following morning that you found yourself standing before one of Yokohama's most prosperous technology firms with the company of your two partners, each with their own brilliance.

It within your ability to recount only paltry fragments of the case itself, the details had long since been lost to you for they held scarcely any importance to be kept in your memory. The problem proved itself to be rather childlike in its simplicity, disappointingly lacking any complexion it ought to possess. At the very least, it seemed so to Ranpo. And as one might expect from the suicidal brunette, he contributed very little—nothing but his charm was appreciated.

It went as usual. Dazai interviewed the members of the staff with a manner so beguiling that it left you and Ranpo irritated (and jealous, but that we shall not address). Ranpo deduced, but complained just as much.

And throughout the entirety of the affair, the client remained unwavering in his commitment to causing you irritation as though determined to lodge himself as a thorn persistently present by your side. The man had introduced himself as rude right from the beginning, beneath sterile fluorescent lights of a lounge you now dread to step within. The lounge itself was comforting to one's skin, offering soft chairs and uplifting pottery, yet it failed to bring the same solace to your soul so restless. It was when Dazai was raving about a new suicide method that the client had walked in.

"Detectives, a relief you're finally here."

"Yeah yeah, let's make this quick so me and my partners can drop by a pastry shop after.", said Ranpo.

"Yes, of course. I value your time as well, Great Detective." The business man chuckled, though the twitch at the corner of his mouth said everything that his mouth itself never ought to. "And also Dazai, right?"

"Wow. I'm surprised you know me at all!", said man stood up from where he draped himself. "Could it be that I've finally earned myself the reputation of our genius Ranpo?"

"I'd argue you're known for the wrong reasons, actually. Like remember that one time you tried hanging yourself on the tree at the park and that other time you-" says you, though interrupted in an inconsiderate manner.

"Yes, yes. Useless semantics can be saved for later." The businessman had not even troubled himself to acknowledge your presence, his attention passing over you as though you belonged to the furniture adorning the chamber rather than one of its occupants. "Why don't you make yourself useful and get us some coffee?"

You appeared about to object his will, yet the words met their end before they became verbal. There existed no sufficient reason to oppose the request, no? Why not make yourself useful, indeed? "Yes— Yes, of course. Right away, sir."

Such was the first indication that the day would prove a miserable one. Thereafter, the hours dragged themselves forward with excruciating slowness, whilst you were directed here and there as though you belonged not to the Agency, but rather to his personal staff. Had you been wiser, you would have fled the scene. Although you hadn't been wise enough, and thus lingered long enough for him to belittle your presence further.

The client had made his doubt of you known. "Let's leave the theories to the professionals.", said he the moment you've shared your thoughts.

To which you replied; "I suppose so, mhm. Sorry for interrupting!" Unbeknownst to you, there exists details you've failed in regarding—Ranpo's brows furrowed, and the ever present smile Dazai wore faltered only the slightest of degrees.

Amid the occasions wherein you expressed confusion, the client would often respond with a dismissive; "Must everything be explained to you?"

And this, you knew this accusation as something mistaken, yet some unfortunate fragment of you agreed with it all the same. Under the circumstances, complying with his words—however piercing to your heart—is only appropriate. Thus you offered no objection, believing it more proper to endure the wound than contest its existence.

It is within your ability to recall the moment wherein Ranpo abandoned his languid position, rising at last when the client crossed a boundary he ought to never have approached. "Enough. Osamu, (y/n), you two can wait for me outside. I'll solve this now, ten seconds max."

"You've figured it out already?", says you.

"Ten seconds?" Dazai tilted his head, "You're  getting slow, dear Ranpo~"

Ranpo smiled, one soft and boyish. The Great Detective looked entirely too pleased with himself. "Nine, then."

Thereafter came the touch of bandaged hands, steering you quietly from the area with a gentleness that felt almost at odds with the day's accumulated frustrations. Yet even whilst Dazai guided you away, your eyes remained fixed upon the raven-haired detective. It was only when the door of ebony closed between you that your gaze was finally compelled elsewhere.

Now outside, Dazai leaned against the wall beside you carrying the ease of a man wholly unbothered by the passage of time.

"Ranpo can solve it in five," you began, "why did he say nine then?"

Dazai offered a paltry hum, "An interesting question, my dearest. Perhaps our great detective is doing something much needed.", says he as you perceived the weight of a hand coming to rest upon your head.

"What exactly?"

"Hmm," hummed he once more, placing the slender fingers of his free hand beneath his chin in an exaggerated display of contemplation. "Actually, I  have no idea!" He refused to elaborate thereafter. Yet Dazai knew perfectly well what those additional four seconds had been spent upon, the thought of it dragged from him a grin.

The client had, after all, requested the greatest detective specifically. A decision he most likely regretted the moment Ranpo began speaking.

For while the great detective had indeed identified the culprit in mere seconds, he had also identified several other things throughout the course of the investigation—and not all of them pertained to the mystery at hand.

Thereupon, nine seconds precisely, the mahogany structure swung wholly upon it's hinges—from it, there emerged Ranpo bearing a countenance that could only ever be portrayed as smug, as victorious. "Well, another mystery solved by the Greatest Detective." says he upon walking closer to the two of you. Whereas, you and Dazai decided to meet him halfway—you at Ranpo's left, and Dazai at his right. 

"Good work, Ranpo." you started, this time your speech went uninterrupted. "I bet it was really easy for you!"

"Obviously! It was elementary. I'm sure even you could solve it without my help," said he while crossing his arms, to which you denied.

"You're joking, right? I mean, I couldn't possibly—I'm sure anyone else can."

Ranpo clicked his tongue, "Stop that." said he, his annoyance made itself evident.

"Stop what?"

It appeared the detective was about to retaliate, though abruptly interrupted by a third persons voice.

"There, there. We'll miss our train back if we continue to loiter around here." said the bandaged brunette. You catch sight of him resting a hand unto Ranpo's shoulder. "Ranpo, what do you say we continue this there, hm?"

Dazai had cut between the two of you cleanly. The remainder of the journey toward the station passed in relative peace.

Ranpo's sole contributions thereafter consisted of lamentations concerning the state of his energy and the regrettable absence of sweets within his stomach. Fortunately, such complaints had been anticipated by you beforehand, and a packet of chips was soon given to him, earning from him no small amount of gratitude Dazai appeared occupied with thoughts of his own. And you, relieved to have finally escaped the confines of that dreadful client, foolishly believed the matter finished.

Before long, the train came into view.

And shortly thereafter, so too did your mistake.

For it was only upon settling into your seat that you realized you had placed yourself between two detectives. Ranpo occupied the seat beside the window, idly rolling a marble across his palm, whilst Dazai had taken residence at the opposite end of the booth—precisely where one might otherwise make their escape. A truly unfortunate position.

"Twenty-one?" suddenly said Dazai.

You had merely blinked in confusion.

Beside you, Ranpo frowned. "Twenty-four."

"Oh, was it?" Dazai tilted his head. "My mistake then."

"What are you guys talking about?" said you, a poor soul completely given no context about the conversation at hand.

"The number of times somebody said something unkind and you accepted it."

"Oh. It wasn't something to take count of, really!" the words felt as though they possessed a profound difficulty to voice, "He was under the stress of a threat so it was totally fine."

"It wasn't fine at all." Ranpo's response arrived with such haste that it scarcely appeared to have undergone the process of thought at all. The peculiarity of this alone compelled you to look his way.

"What?"

"Exactly what he said, (y/n)." said Dazai. "Not okay in the slightest."

"He and the company were all just frantic—"

"That doesn't mean they get to treat you poorly." Ranpo butted in. "And you shouldn't have agreed to anything he said. Like that's just stupid, what's up with that?"

"But he wasn't exactly wrong." said you, "And arguing would have just made him more uncooperative. I'm sure it was for the best."

"You know," Dazai mused, a smile gracing his features, "you never seem to have trouble defending other people. Even when they don't deserve it."

“It’s not like he said anything I haven’t heard before,” you say with an awkward chuckle that doesn’t quite hold its shape. “People like that... you get used to them eventually.”

"You seem to think becoming accustomed to something makes it acceptable." The response came from Dazai.

"It doesn't bother me."

"That's not what I said." His gaze softened.

"Who cares what they think?" Ranpo scoffed. "They met you for, what, ten minutes? Not enough to be right in what they say, you know."

Silence had taken its dominion of the space thereafter, and perhaps it stayed long past due time. Your fingers were still curled slightly in your lap.

“...I didn’t like it,” you had said.

"Of course you didn't." Dazai had said, and you felt the familiar pressure of a bandaged hand rest atop yours. "After all, who would?" The contact offered you comfort.

From the other side, Ranpo leaned closer scarcely. "Finally admitted it." said he, "It was getting annoying that you just kept accepting it."

To no ones surprise, the two stayed as such the rest of the train ride. Outside the train window, the city continued its endless procession of lights and passing buildings. People boarded. People departed. Conversations emerged and faded in equal measure.

The world persisted in its motion, wholly indifferent to the peculiar little moment unfolding within a single train carriage.

Chuuya Nakahara

Osamu Dazai

Ranpo Edogawa

Doppo Kunikida

Chuuya Nakahara

Osamu Dazai

Ryuunosuke Akutagawa

Fyodor Dostoevsky

Ranpo Edogawa

Edgar Allan Poe