In truth, getting an early night's sleep tonight had become an utterly impossible dream.
Edogawa Ranpo had already bolted back home.
This little brat—now "awakened" to his "ability"—had elevated his detective instincts to an even sharper level. The moment he deduced that Asou Akiya and Randou had successfully dealt with the matters outside, he immediately clutched his sore backside and started clamoring to go home. Fukuzawa Yukichi, caught between fury and exasperation, had no choice but to hoist the boy onto his back, lest the child stir up some fresh chaos along the way.
"Pardon the intrusion. I am Fukuzawa Yukichi."
"...Come in, please."
The moment the door swung open, Asou Akiya found himself face to face with a Fukuzawa Yukichi who appeared far younger than his animated counterpart.
No wrinkles at all?
A man well into his thirties somehow carried the clean, unlined look of someone barely past twenty-five.
Arriving unannounced to meet the guardian of Edogawa Ranpo, the silver-haired man wore an expression of impeccable courtesy, yet his gaze sliced through the air like honed steel, pressing coldly and relentlessly against Asou Akiya. Akiya felt neither pain nor discomfort from the scrutiny. His attention slid instead to the black-haired boy standing beside the older man. For one brief second he raised an eyebrow at the telltale redness rimming Ranpo's eyes—clear evidence the child had been crying—before noticing something else: Ranpo was not wearing his glasses. That alone was slightly better than expected.
Inside the living room, the warmth of the heater wrapped the space in gentle comfort, like sinking slowly into a bath named "home." The silver-haired man, worn thin from days of constant movement, allowed himself the smallest measure of release. The rigid line of his spine softened, no longer held so deliberately straight.
"Ranpo, everything's alright now. We've come back from our trip—we're not going to throw you out to shiver in the north-west wind..." Asou Akiya fought back wave after wave of exhaustion, coaxing the boy with patient gentleness for quite some time. Questions about abilities and the like he deliberately set aside for later. Eventually he passed Ranpo into Randou's care. "Randou, go put some ointment on him."
Edogawa Ranpo sprang up at once. "I refuse!"
The boy had been trying—rather poorly—to conceal the fact that he'd been spanked, only for Asou Akiya to dismantle the pretense without mercy.
"Randou, pull down his trousers. His backside is probably swollen."
"Mn."
Taking advantage of his distinctly French height, Randou effortlessly scooped Ranpo up. The boy—fur bristling with indignation—squirmed and tried to bolt away, only to find himself caught firmly around the waist by a single long arm. Randou carried him like one might carry a particularly fractious kitten, whisking the protesting child straight into the bedroom.
"Ranpo-kun, behave yourself a little."
"I don't want medicine—I'll do it myself, Randou-san! QAQ."
The bedroom door closed with a soft click, muffling Ranpo's increasingly feeble, cotton-soft complaints until they faded entirely from earshot.
Fukuzawa Yukichi blinked in genuine surprise.
Asou Akiya poured a cup of hot water for Fukuzawa and one for himself, a small gesture of shared exhaustion and mutual respect. He settled back onto the sofa. "Hard to imagine, isn't it? Ranpo isn't afraid of me at all, yet he actually listens to Randou."
Fukuzawa Yukichi gave an almost unconscious nod, fingers tightening around the warm cup. He had no idea how—or even whether—to begin.
Before coming here he had been incandescent with anger. Now that he had arrived...he felt only a deep, uncomfortable guilt. He had lied to the boy. He had told Ranpo he possessed an ability.
How exactly does one confess such a thing in front of another person's guardian?
"It's alright." Asou Akiya spoke with calm understanding. "From the things Ranpo has said, I've more or less pieced together what happened. Don't let his fourteen years fool you—mentally he's still very much a child. The moment he learned that ability users exist, it was only natural for him to connect that knowledge to his own household situation. I underestimated the severity of his chuunibyou."
Fukuzawa Yukichi frowned slightly, puzzled. "Chuunibyou?"
Asou Akiya's voice carried the faint, rueful weight of someone who had lived through it himself. "It's a particular psychological phase that tends to strike during adolescence—a kind of intense, fantastical self-conception. The child convinces themselves they are—or are destined to become—something extraordinary: a dynamic hero like Kamen Rider, an invincible warrior like Ultraman, a dark vigilante like Batman, a web-slinging savior like Spider-Man, an angel, a demon, that sort of thing. We usually just call it 'delusion syndrome' or 'eight-grader syndrome.' Most people only wake up from it after the next round of harsh reality beats the fantasy out of them."
Fukuzawa Yukichi had never heard of Kamen Rider or Ultraman, but the references to angels and demons were clear enough.
"Ranpo once told me he is the 'Heavenly Emperor's Son.'"
"You've had a hard time with him."
"..."
"There is no need to glare at me with such a murderous look, Fukuzawa-san. I have only taken over responsibility for the past two months. The greatest fault lies with Ranpo's parents—but the dead cannot be brought back to life, so let us leave that topic aside for now."
"Akiya-san! You are helping Ranpo's parents deceive the boy!"
Because Ranpo addressed the man so casually as "Akiya," Fukuzawa Yukichi had unconsciously begun to do the same.
"Ranpo needs an excuse." Asou Akiya met his gaze with steady calm. "A flower raised in a greenhouse, suddenly exposed to the violent storm of the outside world, has no way to keep growing—it will simply wither. When I first met Ranpo, I never imagined I would end up taking him in. The matters weighing on my own shoulders were already far too complicated; I had no spare capacity to look after a genius who might die young midway through his potential. I wanted him to meet more people, so I introduced him to various jobs."
The sharp edge of Fukuzawa Yukichi's dissatisfaction dulled and died away. He spoke with visible conflict in his voice. "Then why did you send him to do manual labor—moving bricks and delivering letters?"
Asou Akiya answered without hesitation. "His mind is far too brilliant. Until he could find work truly suited to him, what he needed most were tasks that demanded no mental effort and involved no complicated human relationships."
With those words—so carefully and deliberately arranged—Asou Akiya turned a long, meaningful look upon Fukuzawa Yukichi.
"Fortunately for him, Ranpo encountered you, Fukuzawa-san."
"This interview… May I ask whether Ranpo passed?"
Interview??!
Fukuzawa Yukichi's pupils dilated sharply. A fragment of memory rose unbidden in his mind—Ranpo's bright, eager voice speaking to him not long ago.
[I made a bet with Akiya. If the interview goes well, I get to go home for dinner, and then Akiya promised he would find me a partner to take care of me, plus a job that I would actually enjoy!]
"If you had given any other answer, Randou and I would have set off traveling again the very next day." Asou Akiya swiftly cut off any retreat Fukuzawa Yukichi might have attempted, speaking with a gentle, smiling tone that carried unmistakable finality. "The penalty for failing the interview is that, for one full week, Ranpo must fend for himself completely outside—no seeking help from any acquaintance whatsoever. Given Ranpo's pride, he would never dream of denying the terms of the wager."
Fukuzawa Yukichi's hands trembled faintly. One day begging to be taken in, two days throwing himself into danger, and now an entire week forbidden from soaring back to the safety of familiar skies?
"As his guardian, you have been far too careless in all of this!"
He refused to accept responsibility for Ranpo!
"I have my own reasons for it. If I were at all suited to raising him properly, things would never have reached this point. What he truly needs is someone like you, Fukuzawa-san—a person of unshakable principle and genuine strength. You will stand before him like a lighthouse, guiding him steadily toward the right path." Asou Akiya turned his gaze toward the closed bedroom door, as though he could see straight through the wood to his lover and the little cat-like boy inside. His eyes softened with unmistakable tenderness. How wonderful life would be—wife and child warming the hearth together, and now one more mischievous kitten added to the household. It felt like the most perfect, complete moment a person could hope to reach.
This young man—whose analytical mind Fukuzawa Yukichi had already found startlingly sharp, whose gaze carried such quiet warmth—spoke again.
"I'm sorry. I belong to the Mafia."
A thousand words, ten thousand thoughts.
All of them distilled at last into one final, unspoken confession: I do not wish to corrupt him.
...
"He left?" Randou asked the moment he stepped out of the bedroom.
"Mn. He left his phone number behind." Asou Akiya allowed a small, satisfied smile to curve his lips. The lone silver wolf, so long accustomed to solitude, would surely require some time to adjust before he could fully accept the reality of becoming, in effect, the caretaker of a very lively daycare.
How tragic for him.
Once Fukuzawa Yukichi officially took Ranpo under his wing, Asou Akiya would finally be able to worry a little less during the daylight hours.
"Where's Ranpo?" Asou Akiya glanced around again and realized the usual mischievous troublemaker was nowhere in sight.
Randou gathered the water cups from the table as he answered. "You two were talking for so long that Ranpo fell asleep on our bed."
Asou Akiya rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Then where are we supposed to sleep?"
Randou replied without missing a beat. "I don't mind Ranpo-kun being there, but he hasn't bathed yet. I'm seriously tempted to just stuff him straight into the bathtub."
Asou Akiya burst into hearty laughter. "Alright, alright—since he passed the interview and now has a job waiting for him in the future, let's not wake him up. There's still one troublesome matter waiting for us first thing in the morning."
"It's your troublesome matter." The corners of Randou's mouth lifted in a faint, knowing curve. "You're really not planning to explain things to Ranpo?"
Asou Akiya answered lightly. "It's just about being an ability user, isn't it?"
Randou's eyes widened the slightest fraction.
That tone!
Akiya, have you completely forgotten the humility with which you always called yourself "an ordinary person"?
"I don't believe Ranpo is in any way inferior to ability users, but if that's what he wants, then of course I have to grant it to him." Asou Akiya continued speaking, completely unaware of the subtle shift in Randou's expression. After careful consideration he went on. "I will help him grow. During this period he can treat ability users as his own kind without ever feeling isolated or alone. Once he naturally outgrows this childish phase, he will come to realize on his own that he isn't actually an ability user at all."
Randou cut straight to the heart of it. "I think Ranpo will cling desperately to the act just so he can keep pretending he has an ability."
It's no wonder the person who had been raising Ranpo for a while could see through him so clearly.
Asou Akiya could only marvel at Randou's sharp insight. A "other" always spotted a child's bad habits in an instant.
"He won't be able to keep up the pretense for many years." Asou Akiya thought of people like Dazai Osamu and Shibuzawa Ryūhiko—among whom Dazai in particular was exactly the sort of little rascal who would secretly sneak up behind Ranpo and pluck at his hair strands just to test whether he really had an ability.
"So sleepy—" Asou Akiya let out a wide yawn. "Let's go rest."
A whole family consisted of ability users…
When he thought about it carefully, he and Ranpo felt very much like the two huskies who had somehow wandered into a pack of wolves—quite an amusing pair, really.
Life was like a play; everything depended on acting skills.
Ranpo's ability was "Super Deduction," so his own ought to be— "Super Analysis"???
The previous day's excessive physical exertion had left Edogawa Ranpo sleeping soundly until he woke up naturally. His fingers twitched slightly. He realized he was not lying in his own familiar room. Upon fully opening his eyes, he discovered he had ended up right at the very edge of the bed, teetering on the verge of rolling off entirely.
"What the heck—I'm not even that eager to sleep in your room anyway."
Edogawa Ranpo was wrapped in his own small, separate blanket. He stared resentfully at the two adults sleeping together—so perfectly, heartwarmingly cozy. Randou's face was nestled completely against Akiya's chest, monopolizing every inch of the other man's embrace and warmth, leaving absolutely no space for the household cat to squeeze in. The possessiveness on display was so intense it made even a cat bristle in indignation.
Randou cracked open a single lazy eye-slit. His languid gaze settled on Ranpo as he muttered in a low, muffled voice. "Go take a bath."
The adult's disdain needed no further elaboration.
You dirty little kitten.
Edogawa Ranpo pulled an exaggerated face at him, then hopped off the bed and dashed toward the bathroom.
Asou Akiya in turn tightened his arms around Randou's waist, pressing his face into the cascade of the Frenchman's dark hair. With such a beautiful French beauty held close in his arms, he wanted nothing more than to melt the man into his very bones, to fuse them together until no distinction remained between them—spring nights are all too short, the sun rises too high, and from this moment on the king will attend no morning court.
"Randou, having a vacation is just too blissful... I don't want to go back to work anymore..."
"Then don't go back to work."
The spirit of the French strike had taken deep root in Randou's heart.
"No way—I still want to go to work together with Randou, office play~." Asou Akiya murmured the words in a secretive whisper right against Randou's ear. The warm breath tickled the sensitive shell, making Randou instinctively duck away while his hand slid across Akiya's abdomen in a casual, teasing stroke.
"Your stomach doesn't hurt anymore?"
"..."
The annoying early-morning pest fell instantly silent, flags lowered and drums stilled.
No matter how much one talked, without the ability to act on it, it's all empty talk. That was simply the way of the Japanese, Akiya.
...
"Akiya! I want fried eggs—double-yolk ones!"
At breakfast time Edogawa Ranpo had changed into a fresh set of black-and-white checked clothes in classic British style, paired with low-cut wool socks that made him look both snug and strikingly handsome. Yet even seated in the chair he could not keep still—fidgeting constantly, swinging his legs up onto the seat or kicking at his slippers in that unrestrained, wildly childish manner.
Strangely enough, Randou never scolded him for behaving that way.
The reason was simple—it looked rather cute.
Asou Akiya prepared breakfast for the two hungry souls at home, cooking up a gentle, light Japanese-style meal.
He could satisfy their greedy appetites, but he had no hope of controlling Edogawa Ranpo's mouth. After draining his glass of milk, Ranpo wiped his lips and—seeing Randou eating with refined elegance—could no longer hold back his curiosity. "Randou-san, what kind of ability do you have?"
Randou answered calmly. "Spatial-type ability, 'Illuminations.'"
Edogawa Ranpo's eyes lit up with instant excitement. "Show me!"
Randou set down his chopsticks. In his now-empty hand a golden cube slowly took shape, condensing from nothing until a perfect, shimmering block of subspace rested upon the tabletop.
The golden subspace unfurled outward, expanding in an instant to envelop the entire dining area and the room surrounding the breakfast table!
"Wow—" Edogawa Ranpo reached out and rapped his knuckles against the barrier of subspace, then seized his table knife and jabbed at it several times. The surface proved utterly unyielding, leaving not even the faintest scratch behind. It was unmistakably a genuine wall of space itself.
Breakfast at home had abruptly transformed into something straight out of a fantasy tale.
Bathed in that radiant golden glow, Asou Akiya continued eating as though nothing unusual were happening. He lifted his eyes to meet Randou's across the table.
Randou pressed a hand over his mouth to hide the movement of his lips and mouthed silently. [Your turn now.]
This was far too entertaining.
Adults deceiving a child into believing he was an ability user!
If one tallied up households across the entire world, how many families would ever go to such lengths just to indulge a child's fantasy? Setting aside everything else, Randou found the entire absurd progression hilarious—he could barely suppress his laughter and was especially eager to see exactly how far Akiya could carry the performance.
The whole family consisted of born actors.jpg
Asou Akiya felt deeply that he had already sacrificed far too much for the sake of this household. Ranpo's parents really ought to send him a letter of heartfelt gratitude! He straightened his spine, ran a hand quickly through his hair to neaten it, and gave Randou a subtle signal to prepare the special effects.
"Akiya!"
"What kind of ability does Akiya have!"
And so, beneath Edogawa Ranpo's thrilled and expectant gaze, a sudden, inexplicable wind stirred around Asou Akiya—though no breeze moved anywhere else in the room.
Asou Akiya remained perfectly composed. He reached calmly into his pocket, drew out a pair of black-framed glasses, and settled them onto the bridge of his nose.
"My ability is—"
The shifting currents within the subspace lent him an aura of sufficient grandeur.
His voice seemed to take on a strange, otherworldly quality, reverberating softly inside the enclosed space and setting Edogawa Ranpo on edge with nervous anticipation.
"High-Dimensional Observer."
A transmigrator—one who had stood in God's perspective and read the script of it all beforehand.
I have not spoken a single falsehood.
All of you were once nothing more than characters on sheets of paper to me!