The name "Lan" signifies fragrance.
Randou represents a hall that is elegant, refined, and pure in its scent.
*{Note: Randou /Lan Tang (蘭堂) in the chinese pronounciation. 蘭 = orchid, elegance, fragrance; 堂 = hall, chamber, grand room.}
Asou Akiya had once told Randou that, in Huaxia on the far side of the ocean, where the culture was closely related yet distinct, this was how the name was defined. He had said that he loved the Japanese name Randou, derived from the phonetic echo of the French Rimbaud.
Randou loved it as well. With that name, he was no longer a spy, but simply a free and romantic French poet.
If he could have lived in peace with his lover, perhaps he would have sunk into obscurity for many years…
But there is no if in this world.
He saw the crisis. He saw Akiya's injuries, the secrecy surrounding his work, and the strangeness hidden beneath the calm surface of the world. It turned out that what Akiya had said was true: ability users stood atop the surging tides of the era, while ordinary people stood below, gazing upward. Only an exceedingly small number of non–ability users could ever climb to the apex of the pyramid and stand shoulder to shoulder with those people.
After chatting with the French girl Catherine several times, he suddenly developed a similar illusion to hers.
—Did I have an ability, too?
Randou's gemlike eyes, green shot through with gold, would at certain unguarded moments spill over with a flowing, radiant gold.
Whenever that happened, Randou would raise a hand to shield his eyes and offer a small, half-complaining remark.
"What cold sunlight."
That drifting, pale golden glow looked remarkably like sunshine.
Yet Randou's common sense—and his instinctive aversion to the cold—misled him. For ordinary people, sunlight under a truly golden sun should be warm and purifying, never carrying the chill of winter.
But the ability of the French Transcendent, Arthur Rimbaud, known as "Illuminations," was instead an interstitial space of utter, glacial cold.
There were rumors…
Enemies who entered that subspace…
could neither live nor die,
trapped in a state where survival was denied and death refused them mercy.
…
Night fell.
Somewhere in Yokohama, inside a private residence, the lights in the living room were still on.
"Akiya didn't answer my call."
Randou frowned as he scrolled through his phone, displeasure clear on his face. The screen was filled with messages from Akiya—playful, ingratiating, shamelessly cute—each one begging forgiveness. The gist of them all was the same: something had come up at the last minute tonight, he had to eat out. The most recent message said that Asou Akiya was at an izakaya having a gathering with others, couldn't slip away, and asked whether he should bring food home.
Randou, who had been quietly sulking to begin with, was completely defeated by the relentless barrage of lover-exclusive emoji and over-the-top internet stickers.
[Asou Akiya:"Love you the most. Want some tempura? (●—●)"]
Randou's stomach was empty. He stared at the message for a moment, then decided to dig a little deeper.
I love you too, he typed back. Send me your location.
Television dramas had taught him this much: Japanese men often had plenty of social obligations outside, and they were also prone to little tricks and evasions.
He was not about to give Akiya that kind of opportunity.
A few seconds later—
A location ping arrived on his phone: the address of an izakaya somewhere in Yokohama.
Randou grabbed his keys and stood up, already heading for the door. He planned to ambush Akiya in person and see exactly which boring colleague was worth leaving him waiting at home for.
Rather than sitting here waiting for you to bring food back, he thought coolly, I'd much rather go out and eat with you myself.
It seemed that matters related to the Port Mafia could no longer be postponed.
Randou pinched the flesh on his arm. The recent training had shown some results; the muscle beneath his fingers was no longer as soft and yielding as before.
At the izakaya, Asou Akiya had already finished eating. The table was a complete mess, littered with the aftermath of the meal. Nakahara Chuuya looked upon Edogawa Ranpo's blatant waste of food with open disdain, while Ranpo, utterly unbothered, declared smugly, "The old man's rich."
Chuuya snapped back immediately, "Old man—ugh, wrong word. Even if it's his money, it's still not your money."
Ranpo stuck out his tongue in response, pure provocation, the very picture of a taunting cat.
Chuuya grew even more annoyed.
Watching the two troublesome kids—both baring their claws, their temperaments clearly incompatible—Asou Akiya remained unconcerned. Compared to Dazai Osamu, Ranpo's personality was far more manageable. The likelihood of these two actually coming to blows was extremely low.
"Ranpo, Yokohama isn't safe at night. I'll take you home," Akiya said, then turned to Chuuya. "You're familiar with the area, so I won't walk you back for now. Don't blame your dad for being inattentive—Ranpo lives far from here, and with his personality, it wouldn't be strange at all if one day he got tied to a stone and sunk into the sea."
Ranpo, well-fed and satisfied, his small face flushed pink, protested unhappily, "You just don't want to take me home with you!"
Akiya ground his teeth and replied, "Don't forget our bet."
Ranpo looked exactly like an adopted son fighting for attention in front of the biological child, his pampered, clingy behavior making Chuuya click his tongue in disbelief.
"How old is he, anyway?"
"You mean Ranpo?" Akiya answered calmly, with a faint trace of weariness. "He's thirteen. About to become a big fourteen-year-old."
"Don't underestimate him, Chuuya," Akiya warned his nine-year-old son. "You two aren't the same type. His mind is very active—you'll be spun around in circles by him if you're not careful."
Chuuya didn't believe it.
I'm not an idiot, he thought stubbornly.
Asou Akiya slipped a card into Chuuya's pocket, ignoring his instinctive attempt to refuse. "The password is your birthday."
With that, Akiya leaned down and planted a kiss on the little orange cat's cheek, looking thoroughly satisfied.
Chuuya flushed and answered with a small, embarrassed "Mm."
The future wielder of gravity who would one day swipe black cards without a second thought was, at this moment in time, experiencing for the first time what it felt like to be "kept" by his dad.
Money really did make people happy.
Edogawa Ranpo had already reached the entrance of the izakaya. He lifted the noren curtain and shouted loudly, "Hurry up! Your boyfriend is coming!"
Akiya sucked in a sharp breath and immediately cut short the tender father–son moment, making a swift, tactical retreat.
"Chuuya, remember this!"
"Under no circumstances can you let Randou see you! I've never met Randou's ex, but I have a feeling you might resemble her."
Chuuya had seen a photograph on Akiya's phone before—an image of a long-haired foreigner, with black hair and green eyes, refined features and striking depth. He immediately pulled a troubled face and nodded. "I'll figure out a way to avoid him."
Watching Asou Akiya and Edogawa Ranpo leave, Chuuya parted his lips as if to say something, but no words came out.
My current dad is a good person…
In this era, even Nakahara Chuuya knew one universally acknowledged truth.
No one liked being the one left holding the bag.
Outside, Asou Akiya walked ahead while Edogawa Ranpo pedaled lazily behind on his bicycle, ears perked up as he listened to Akiya place a call to Randou.
"Randou, I'm already on my way home. Do you want to eat oden?"
The phone's audio quality was excellent, so even Ranpo could clearly hear Randou's reply—spoken in French.
The problem was that he couldn't understand a single word of it!
Ranpo puffed out his cheeks in irritation. "You're bullying me because I don't understand French."
Give him a few days, and he was sure he could learn the language!
"You're outside already? Be careful," Asou Akiya said with concern. "I'm near the Grinder Street area, walking a kid home. Whatever you do, don't take any shortcuts—stick to the main roads. With your foreigner status, most people won't dare approach you… Hm? You're asking who it is? Haha, it's the green-eyed cat I told you about last time."
Without even noticing, Asou Akiya ended up talking on the phone with Randou for a full ten minutes, completely ignoring Ranpo beside him.
Ranpo sprawled over the handlebars of his bicycle, eyes fixed on Akiya, his feet lazily pressing the pedals now and then. The summer night breeze brushed over him, scattering away the lingering scent of food from the izakaya. His spirit immediately slackened, melting into a lazy salted-fish cat who didn't want to work hard, only wanted a hug.
His unfocused gaze lingered on the very lived-in middle-aged man before him, and in his mind's eye he seemed to glimpse the man's home: a spacious living room, an elegant fireplace, fur cushions arranged on the sofa, two bedrooms, and beneath the beds, thick wool carpets laid out in layers…
In Ranpo's imagination, a miniature version of himself was already rolling around happily on that wool carpet.
Ahhh, so comfortable.
Everything that uncle bought was top-notch!
When the call ended, Asou Akiya looked at Ranpo—who was clearly lost in his own thoughts—and, half amused and half exasperated, steadied the bicycle.
"Careful not to fall."
Standing beside Ranpo, he lowered his voice. "When you see Randou later, just greet him politely like normal. Don't say anything unnecessary. He and I will send you back to the police academy together."
Ranpo pouted. "Got it."
Adults really did love trading conditions and bargaining chips.
The slowed passage of time soon returned to normal, and Ranpo did not have to wait long before he finally saw that mysterious lover.
A long-haired French young man stepped out of a taxi that had pulled over by the roadside. In the places the streetlights failed to reach, he seemed to melt into the darkness itself; yet once he moved beneath the lamps, the warm glow gathered around him, as though the light had chosen him alone.
"Tch—ha." Randou had forgotten to wear earmuffs and rubbed at his ears.
Spotting Akiya smiling as he waited across the street, Randou quickened his pace and headed straight toward his lover.
"Akiya!"
In that instant, there was no one else in his eyes.
It couldn't be helped. Edogawa Ranpo looked utterly nonthreatening—nothing more than a bedraggled, scrawny little cat. Judging purely by appearance, the cat had potential to grow, but unfortunately he was far too young, childish to the core. Even though the age gap between him and Asou Akiya was less than ten years, when the two stood in the same scene, it was unmistakably the presence of an elder beside a junior.
Fighting off his drowsiness, Ranpo instinctively began to deduce, piecing together fragments of Randou's information.
Whoa.
Another person with a past shrouded in fog!
After embracing Asou Akiya, a faint smile settled onto Randou's face.
The French young man then turned his gaze kindly toward Edogawa Ranpo.
In an instant, Ranpo was seized by the dangerous sensation of being eyed by a large animal. The hairs on his body stood on end. That unspoken message—"So you're the little brat who's been pestering Akiya lately and wasting his time, huh?"—was far too obvious!
Barely managing to remember Akiya's warning, Edogawa Ranpo forced himself to use the polite guest manners his mother had once taught him.
"Mr. Randou, my name is Ranpo. It's a pleasure to meet you."
Randou immediately understood and replied in Japanese, "Mm. Hello."
The French young man, usually aloof and cool toward outsiders, sensed Ranpo's small-animal nature and unconsciously softened his tone, becoming noticeably more approachable.
Asou Akiya went momentarily dazed.
Why did what he was seeing look like an Edogawa Conan desperately trying to act cute? Wait a second—aren't you Edogawa Ranpo?!
And why is he calling Randou sir, yet insisting on calling only me "uncle"?!
Having steeled himself to get through the formal greeting, Edogawa Ranpo turned to look at Asou Akiya, whose expression had grown subtly complicated. From Akiya alone, Ranpo read quite a bit of information, and combined with the current situation, he decided to raise the "favorability" a little more. Even before meeting Randou, he had already noticed it—this man doted on his lover single-mindedly, very much like how his own father treated his mother.
Right… what was he supposed to do again? His mother had said one should learn humility and know how to praise others.
Praise…
I'll copy what the old man does!
Edogawa Ranpo exclaimed cheerfully, "Old man, your wife is amazing! Mr. Randou wants to join the Port Mafia to protect you—he's even figured out the entire application process!"
Asou Akiya: "..."
Randou: "..."
The couple, whose relationship was usually exceptionally close, looked at each other, and the atmosphere instantly turned strange.
—This is the cat you took a liking to?
—I must be blind. Can't you see his greatest virtue is that he's adorable?!
Asou Akiya covered his face, utterly unwilling to pursue the topic of Randou wanting to join the Port Mafia.
Fukuzawa Yukichi, where are you? Please, come take this cat away—I don't have the fortune to bear him, ahhhhh!!!