After three consecutive days of hellish overtime at last came to an end.
Asou Akiya's superficial injuries no longer ached, and the faint bruising on his face had been carefully concealed with concealer. When he returned home, looking refreshed and energetic once more, the first thing he saw was Randou, who had arrived early after receiving his message and was sitting on the sofa, warming himself by the fireplace.
The flames leapt within the hearth, and they leapt as well in Randou's gray-green eyes, like light, dancing souls.
They met each other's gaze.
All the words they had bottled up seemed to shrink the moment they reached their lips.
"Randou."
"Akiya, is your workplace really that exploitative?"
"Haha—"
Asou Akiya scratched the back of his head. His attempt at playing the innocent fool was not especially convincing as he replied, "It's not that bad. We're actually more relaxed than government civil servants. They're the ones who joke that if you never get off work, then you never really have to show up."
This kind of overtime mentality was something the French could never truly understand—yet who, in their heart of hearts, actually wanted to work overtime?
Randou said nothing. He simply extended his arms toward him, wearing an expression that said you know exactly what I mean.
Asou Akiya stepped forward and wrapped him in an embrace, lowering his head to rest against Randou's hair, breathing in the scent that flooded his heart. There was one undeniable advantage to being with a male lover: a man who loved men was almost never willing to be slovenly. They kept themselves well-groomed, spoke with elegance, treated life itself as an intimate social space, and displayed their charm without restraint.
In front of Randou, Asou Akiya had never once uttered a single crude swear word.
The corrosive influence of the mafia was reduced to the bare minimum.
"I missed you, Randou."
At every moment, in every passing second, the black-haired young man kissed him, savoring a love that felt like dancing on the edge of a blade.
Randou returned the kiss and murmured, "I did too."
What grew damp was not only their lips, but also their souls—souls longing to be loved, to be trusted.
With the buffer of time spent recuperating, the marks on Asou Akiya's body now resembled nothing more than the lingering aftereffects of physical combat training; to an untrained eye, there should have been no obvious flaws. Randou traced the bluish bruises on Akiya's skin, his fingertips careful not to press too hard. The answers rose unbidden in his mind. He rested his forehead against his lover's jaw and pressed soft kisses along his neck.
In his eyes, layers of ice and snow piled up, a cold wind howling through them, revealing a faint yet dangerous edge of ferocity.
[The injuries on Akiya's body were inflicted by someone.]
Asou Akiya seemed to sense it. He placed a hand against Randou's head, guiding him into his arms. The warmth of his body covered the French beauty's cheek; their breaths intertwined, and the two of them leaned together, far away from the chaos outside.
Asou Akiya knew he hadn't managed to deceive him. He smiled wryly, troubled.
"Randou, being too smart makes life exhausting."
"Being too foolish just gets you deceived."
Randou replied dully. The words were unintentional, yet they struck straight at Asou Akiya's guilty weak spot.
Asou Akiya's breathing grew a little unsteady, but his embrace did not loosen, nor did he allow Randou to look again at the bruises.
The bedroom light flickered between bright and dim, and at some point it seemed to be veiled in a resplendent golden hue.
As though a mysterious switch had quietly been flipped.
Or perhaps God had casually scattered sunlight like ripened ears of wheat.
Randou's yearning for power surged once more when Asou Akiya was injured, stimulating his ability. This was among the highest tiers of abilities in the world, a power coveted in countless dreams, hidden deep within Randou's soul. Whoever possessed it had the strength to protect what they cherished most.
"Close your eyes. Don't lift your head."
Asou Akiya used his tie to cover Randou's eyes, and Randou obediently followed his words.
A lamb that looked pure on the outside.
Yet within, perhaps lurked some unknown and dangerous species.
Asou Akiya whispered by his ear, "My dear, come—into this world where I want to go mad with you."
Randou's cheeks flushed faintly. With his sight taken away, his other senses sharpened.
He heard the sound of a heartbeat.
Chaotic.
Hungry.
Scars were a man's medals for protecting his home, while wholehearted love was the highest honor won on the battlefield of affection.
Thinking of this, anger and sweetness mingled together, sharp and complex. Akiya was his boyfriend; no one else was allowed to hurt him. Otherwise, Randou did not know what he himself might do.
Randou's thoughts wandered for a brief while before he could no longer focus, instinctively seeking warmth.
The chill within him was dispelled by the intensity of Akiya's emotions.
As Randou struggled to make out the room, his feelings began to surge. A former Transcendent of formidable stature had fallen into the state of an ordinary man, his mind growing hazy, clinging wholeheartedly to Asou Akiya, from whom he had been separated for several days. Illuminations turned illusory, flickering in and out of existence, stripping reality of its spatial boundaries before settling back into the real world once more.
At the instant they both reached their peak, Asou Akiya hurriedly shut his eyes—and in that fleeting moment, he distinctly saw a burst of blinding golden light erupt before him.
Immediately after—
The ceiling lamp exploded as space itself twisted unconsciously!
Tch—so this really was the might of a spatial-type ability.
The crisp sound of shattering snapped Randou awake. It was eerily similar to a gunshot. Acting on reflex, he flipped their positions, pressing Akiya beneath him. Then he hastily sat up, tugging at the tie over his eyes. The bedroom returned to normal: the glass windows were intact, and aside from the ceiling light having gone dark, there seemed to be no other problems.
"Akiya… did the lightbulb at home break?"
"No, it short-circuited."
Asou Akiya lay flat on his back, speaking with solemn seriousness as he spun nonsense.
Love, too, could short-circuit from time to time—explode once, nothing strange about it. As long as it was carefully repaired afterward, everything would be fine.
When Randou noticed their positions, his eyes brightened, his expression brimming with restless intent.
Like a beautiful French cat, proud and coy, testing the patience of its keeper.
"Akiya," he said softly, "I want to be on top."
"..."
Feeling sympathy for the hardships his Japanese boyfriend had endured, Randou once again thought, today as well, that he was truly a qualified lover.
After all, you lie there, and I'll do the moving.
How considerate.
"Boss, after internal testing within the Port Mafia, we've confirmed that the effectiveness of these health supplements is extremely limited. May I demand compensation from them?"
During the day, Asou Akiya stood before the Port Mafia boss with an aching waist. On his usually calm and restrained face lay an unusually deep shade of disappointment as he condemned those Indians for their false advertising.
Health supplements might sell well, meet market demand, and earn the Port Mafia a great deal of money—but ineffective meant ineffective. They had not, in the slightest, increased the frequency of his nighttime life to something like seven times a night.
With a tone of resigned acceptance, Asou Akiya concluded, "My investment failed."
The Port Mafia boss: "..."
Anyone with half a brain could tell what you were really trying to accomplish by investing in health supplements.
It wasn't just Asou Akiya who felt weak and short of breath lately; even the Port Mafia boss himself had been experiencing some decline in vigor, his energy waning, the hours he could dedicate to work steadily shrinking. He merely chalked it up to age.
Human beings could not fight time.
The Port Mafia boss told him not to be so jumpy. "Go invest in something else. Don't bother with health supplements anymore."
"Yes, sir."
With the funds approved by the boss in hand, Asou Akiya rolled away neatly and obediently.
"Wait."
The Port Mafia boss suddenly remembered something.
Asou Akiya stopped in his tracks.
"From now on, don't trouble Little Kouyou anymore. She has her own assassination missions to carry out. You have a good relationship with Hirotsu, so I'm granting you the authority—only in emergency situations where your life is in danger—to mobilize the Black Lizard's Ten-Man Captain."
"This was not merely a 'reward.'" The Port Mafia boss continued, his words heavy with implication. "This brush with danger should help you gain some experience. The Mafia is not a place where it's easy to survive. If you want to climb higher, relying on the little clever tricks you show in your daily work is not enough. You need to display greater talent…" He was just about to press on with his admonishment when he suddenly couldn't suppress a cough. His lungs itched, and he noticed the concern that surfaced in Asou Akiya's gaze.
The Port Mafia boss would not misjudge this. Asou Akiya truly was a subordinate worthy of trust—no special ability, average-to-below-average combat skills, a simple family background, someone who had entered the Port Mafia's management ranks only through the boss's own patronage.
Compared to other members harboring ulterior motives, this one was young enough to be used for many years to come.
He had to keep his confidants firmly in hand.
"Akiya-kun."
Breaking convention, the Port Mafia boss spoke words that revealed just how highly he valued talent. "If, during this period of chaos, you can secure ten billion US dollars in profit for the Port Mafia, I will make an exception and name you a candidate for executive."
Hearing such an almost fantastical demand, Asou Akiya's heart nonetheless leapt treacherously toward his throat.
An executive candidate?
A non–ability user actually had a chance to reach this position?!
Every executive candidate was, in effect, the successor should an executive fall—essentially a future executive. Their status within the organization was extremely high, and they could independently lead a small unit of subordinates.
Ten billion US dollars sounded like an astronomical figure… but with the organization as his backing, if he truly threw himself into it, it wasn't entirely without hope…
After all, he counted as half a reborn man.
Asou Akiya bowed deeply, clenching his fists as he answered, "Yes. I will do my utmost."
The Port Mafia boss could see everything in him—his delight, his fear, his unease, and the resolve that had rekindled his spirit.
[This person might yet bring me a pleasant surprise.]
"You may go."
Admiring the confidence his subordinate displayed beyond his own limits, the Port Mafia boss felt a faint sense of regret that the man was not an ability user. Then another thought followed immediately—if he were an ability user, would he really have made such a promise so easily?
Those who were not trusted would never be allowed to sit in the seat of an executive candidate.
And by sheer coincidence, Asou Akiya fit perfectly into the requirements of a trusted confidant.
Was it because he was strong?
No—because he was weak! His power entirely depends on the boss's favor. Asou Akiya's intelligence lay within a controllable range. Countless people would envy his position, resent his meteoric rise, and wish for his death; all they would need to do was wait for him to fall out of favor.
The Port Mafia boss opened another intelligence file, glanced over the records inside, and smiled with indifference.
Outside, Asou Akiya rode the elevator down.
With the funds approved by the boss in hand, he prepared to seek out his colleagues and discuss matters of stock speculation.
Take a gamble, and a cramped apartment might turn into a seaside villa.
Lose… and then…
Ahem. He was no longer a lone man with nothing to lose—he could always go home and cling shamelessly to his wife's leg.
Although Randou had yet to fully awaken his ability, "Illuminations" in its dormant state was already a blade keen enough to protect Randou while he wandered outside. There was no way to actively explain the secrets of abilities, and to prevent Randou from experimenting recklessly and causing his power to spiral out of control, it would be best to wait until the theatrical performance at the end of the year—the one meant to explain abilities…
Safety comes first.
His Randou would become strong; there was no need to rush such a thing.
Fortunately, this was a world where supernatural abilities reigned supreme, where one's mental state mattered far more than the mere passage of time. Ability users could not rely on years piling up to achieve dramatic leaps in power, and so Randou would not fall far behind the other Transcenders. There was time—enough time—for him to grow.
A seemingly busy Asou Akiya quietly set certain matters aside, focusing instead on earning money and keeping his household afloat. Then, after being "accidentally" run into once again by Edogawa Ranpo at a bakery, it finally dawned on him that less than two months had passed.
On a day in June, Asou Akiya stood inside the bakery, carefully selecting bread fresh from the oven, intending to buy breakfast for Randou the next morning. At that very moment, a black-haired boy dressed in something resembling a school uniform suddenly bounced into his line of sight—abrupt, lively, and utterly intrusive—as if leaping straight into his life.
Thirteen-year-old Edogawa Ranpo was unmistakably one of Yokohama's brightest little stars.
"Hey, mister, I got kicked out of school!"
Asou Akiya's vision went dark.
Did fate truly refuse to let him avoid this troublesome child?!
Before he could even ask a question, Ranpo launched into rapid-fire chatter. "School is way too annoying! There's a curfew every day, you're not allowed to leave the dorms at night, snacks aren't allowed whenever you want, they even make you watch your diet! How can they be like this? I couldn't even buy ramune soda…! So I went and found the dorm supervisor, and wow, his romantic history is rich. I told everyone all about it, and his face turned the exact same color as ramune soda!"
"And then," Ranpo concluded cheerfully, "the school kicked me out, saying I could just do part-time work instead."
He finished his story with unmistakable delight. "See, mister? I really don't belong in school. The acting tests are way too hard! Those adults are all professional actors, pretending to be idiots so convincingly—but you're different, mister! You actually tell me the truth!"
Asou Akiya's simmering irritation was extinguished by a bucket of cold water, leaving him frozen in stunned silence.
Ranpo wasn't sad at all.
On the contrary, he was merely frustrated with himself—for not being good enough at acting.
Had he really not noticed… that those idiots were not pretending at all, that they were genuinely, completely, and without the slightest hint of artifice, idiots?
"Uncle, I'm really hungry."
Edogawa Ranpo, now forced to drop out of school, tugged at the corner of Asou Akiya's coat. His manner was so guileless it resembled that of a small child, and yet he had already been swept into the intricate, merciless currents of the adult world.
In those emerald-green eyes was nothing but wholehearted dependence on a meal ticket.
Life was not easy.
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