In the morning, the temperature had dropped below freezing.
With all three members of the family going out to work, the household's sense of stability rose sharply.
Near the headquarters of the Port Mafia, a black private sedan drove into a blind spot beyond surveillance, and it was there that Randou prepared to get out of the car. Before stepping out alone and leaving, Randou pulled down the partition in front of the windshield, pressed a hand to Asou Akiya's shoulder, and without the slightest hesitation gave him a fervent French kiss, easing the ache of longing that had built up over the course of the day.
"Randou… mm…" Asou Akiya was equally unwilling to let go, his hand gently stroking Randou's back, careful not to wrinkle the other man's clothes, already sensing that if this continued, something decidedly harmonious might happen.
Half of the three-month period had already passed, and Randou's heart had grown even more ardent, as though he had completely forgotten those nights of quiet sobbing.
The shadow that belonged to Arthur Rimbaud retreated once more to the depths of his heart.
Randou took a deep breath, lingered to nibble possessively at Akiya's lips, and said softly, "I'm going."
Asou Akiya used his fingers to smooth Randou's hair, the long fringe falling beside the earmuffs, looking especially elegant and beautiful. Even if his hairline was just the slightest bit prominent, his Randou would never turn into a second Mori-san!
"Don't let anyone bully you," Asou Akiya said. "If you're wronged, tell me, Randou."
"I understand."
Randou agreed aloud, though in truth he would only resolve things on his own.
He was an independent person.
Akiya had done so much for him; now it was his turn to support this family and protect his own Akiya.
Asou Akiya watched Randou walk away. With less than a hundred meters remaining, he leisurely drove toward the Port Mafia headquarters parking lot. Ranpo, who was kept at home, was being watched over by Fukuzawa Yukichi; Chuuya, who was "kept outside," roamed freely around Suribachi City, pursuing leads on the elusive military base. He would not leave Yokohama's boundaries, which put Asou Akiya very much at ease.
Having been promoted to the role of a "veteran father," Asou Akiya greeted colleagues along the way, took the elevator back to his office, and right on time, Ozaki Kouyou appeared, holding a novel as she sat down beside him—so relaxed that it was better than taking a vacation.
"Good morning, Kouyou-kun."
"Mm. Good day, Asou-san."
Having studied all manner of etiquette, Ozaki Kouyou could naturally adopt the appropriate social demeanor whenever she wished.
Her gaze drifted surreptitiously toward the dark-haired young man's throat. Part of it was concealed by the high collar of his shirt, but there was still a faint red mark visible—like someone had pressed themself against him, bitten once at his neck, and then lingered there, sucking long enough to leave a trace behind.
Without a hint of haste, Ozaki Kouyou lowered her eyes back to her novel, though her heart fluttered in panic as she keenly sensed the searing intimacy shared between adults.
Had she misunderstood Asou-san all along?
How could Asou-san, who clearly had a lover, possibly take an interest in her? It was just that she could not picture what that person looked like. From the Boss's tone… was it a man? A Frenchman who had only recently joined the Port Mafia?
Ozaki Kouyou let her thoughts wander freely, and as the words of the romance novel entered her eyes, they somehow carried a faint sweetness.
Even within the Port Mafia… perhaps there could still be sincere love.
[You're quite precocious.]
Observing her every subtle movement, Asou Akiya once again felt keenly aware of the reality that although Kouyou was four years older than Chuuya, her mental maturity surpassed his by an entire cycle.
The future big sister of the Port Mafia's Interrogation Division was, for now, nothing more than a young girl whose heart had just begun to stir with springtime feelings.
As for the one trying to spirit Kouyou away…
Wasn't the fellow who had been hovering around lately called Hazama Kan'ichi?
Asou Akiya fell into quiet contemplation, his expression betraying nothing. He curled his fingers and lightly tapped his forehead. Hazama Kan'ichi was the male protagonist of the novel Konjiki Yasha—and if one stretched the logic a little, didn't this amount to a literary master falling in love with a character from his own creation? It sounded oddly reasonable. The only real question was whether, once dragged into reality, the two of them could truly find happiness together.
Taking advantage of a chance to step out midway to use the restroom, Asou Akiya returned afterward and happened to catch sight of the person who had been chatting with Kouyou.
It was a young man in his twenties, about the same age as himself—clearly an adult, not some reckless kid. The moment he noticed Asou Akiya coming back, Hazama Kan'ichi immediately cut the conversation short, stuffed a box of wagashi he had bought into Ozaki Kouyou's hands, and hurried away. His expression was faintly awkward, unmistakably unnatural.
Asou Akiya: ???
Asou Akiya: …Did he just take me for a romantic rival?
"Who was that?" Asou Akiya did not bother to hide his curiosity and asked directly, turning to Ozaki Kouyou, who had already opened the box and begun eating.
"Hazama Kan'ichi-san from the Intelligence Division," Ozaki Kouyou replied, seeing no reason to keep it secret. As she sampled the exquisitely made Japanese sweets, the corners of her lipstick-painted lips lifted slightly, giving her a demeanor that was both youthful and faintly precocious.
Imitating a kind of femininity that did not quite suit her age, she asked tentatively, "Would Asou-san mind?"
"A little," Asou Akiya admitted honestly. Before Kouyou could grow confused, he continued bluntly, "He's about ten years older than you, isn't he?"
Ozaki Kouyou thought for a moment. "It seems so." She then looked at Asou Akiya—whose face was clearly more youthful—and said with mild surprise, "When you put it that way, he's actually older than Asou-san. I really couldn't tell at all…"
Asou Akiya pressed a hand to his forehead. "I'm very young, you know!"
Without a moment's hesitation, Ozaki Kouyou replied, "Asou-san is so steady and composed that you don't seem like someone your age at all. You go to and from work on schedule every day, and unless it's for work, no one ever sees you outside. You don't even have hobbies like going bar-hopping."
Asou Akiya said with wounded sincerity, "A truly good man is supposed to be devoted to his home."
Ozaki Kouyou took a bite of the wagashi, the sweetness blooming on her tongue. "Maybe so. You really are different from other people."
Watching her reaction, Asou Akiya clicked his tongue slightly.
A little girl.
Being coaxed and led on by an adult, and she doesn't even realize it.
With Asou Akiya's level of experience when it came to emotional manipulators, how could he fail to see through Hazama Kan'ichi's slow, warm-water-boiling-the-frog approach toward Ozaki Kouyou? From careful attention to gradually inserting himself into her private life, all under the banner of concern, he was methodically capturing a young girl's heart.
All of a sudden, inspiration struck Asou Akiya.
Wasn't the person right in front of him the perfect heroine for a rebirth novel?
Before rebirth, the boyfriend dies unexpectedly, becoming the white moonlight and cinnabar mole etched into the heroine's heart. After rebirth, the heroine changes fate and saves the male lead, rekindling their bond—only to discover that he is not as flawless as she once imagined. The grind of daily life, the endless trivialities of firewood, rice, oil, and salt, slowly wears away the romantic filter that once cloaked their love.
—What you love, is it the beauty you lost back then, or this man who would recklessly drag her into elopement without regard for consequences?
Got it!
The next novel would be written straight from life!
Asou Akiya pulled out a notebook and a fountain pen and began sketching an outline, which immediately caught Ozaki Kouyou's attention. "Are you starting work?" she asked.
Asou Akiya smiled. "No. I'm just writing down things I want to do, making plans for my life."
Ozaki Kouyou did not have such a habit, and her movements paused.
What was life, exactly?
Was life a blend of sour, sweet, bitter, and spicy flavors, or was it love and hatred, union and separation? She seemed as though she had experienced so much, yet in truth, she had experienced none of it at all.
She was a blade forged by the Port Mafia's leader, a weapon honed for killing, having slit the throats of countless people who had trusted her. The looks in their eyes just before death were something she could not understand—things called "pity" and "hatred," perhaps.
"What kind of life goal does Asou-san have?" she asked. "To become a prospective executive?"
"No."
Asou Akiya lifted a torn sheet of paper and showed it to her. "Raise a wife! Buy a villa! Make my wife happy!"
Ozaki Kouyou: "..."
This kind of man was already hopeless, wasn't he. Utterly devoid of ambition.
Ozaki Kouyou looked down on such goals, yet this was already the most difficult ambition Asou Akiya could possibly have. Just the matter of "raising a wife" alone—who else could emulate him in coaxing a French "nuclear weapon" into his bed, branding his presence onto the other's body and soul, little by little overwriting the past "weapon codes"?
Japan had poured enormous effort into cultivating Shibusawa Tatsuhiko, a man with the potential of a Transcendent, yet even that did not match Asou Akiya's efficiency!
He could turn Artur Rimbaud into his own wife, Randou, spending every day steeped in sweetness with him, coaxing him into becoming gentle as water, learning household chores and cooking, forgetting entirely his former identity as an intelligence operative.
Could the Japanese government do that?
It could not—and that made it nothing more than a failed investment, pure trash.
When inspiration came quickly, Asou Akiya's writing speed followed suit. Finishing a novel in a single week was fast enough to make the Japanese literary world pound their chests in despair—fortunately, they knew nothing about it.
"Randou, do you think the title should be White Moonlight and Cinnabar Mole, or Plain White Rice and Mosquito Blood?" Asou Akiya showed Randou the sample copy for publication; only the title of the novel remained undecided. Randou had long since grown accustomed to being shocked by his writing speed, and he found himself intrigued by this so-called rebirth novel.
Randou spent an hour skimming through the short novel from start to finish.
It was a very typical "Akiya-style" work.
Restraint first, release later—drawing lessons about life from the familiar wish-fulfillment formula, elevating both the reading experience and the depth of the story.
"Akiya, who did you draw your inspiration from?" Randou asked.
"Ozaki Kouyou, whom I protect."
"Oh…" Randou drawled thoughtfully. "It sounds like you don't have much faith in her love life. Don't tell me you're the male lead in the novel?"
"Haha, how could that be?" Asou Akiya laughed. "I'd never disappoint the person I love."
Knowing exactly what Randou was suspecting, Asou Akiya flipped the novel to a page and showed him the part he had not examined closely. "Randou, look here. This man dies in a car accident not long after eloping with the female lead. After she is reborn, she changes the course of that accident, marries him, and yet discovers that once he becomes her husband, he is far more ordinary than she imagined. There are still countless people outside pursuing her, and she begins to waver, unsure of what it was she truly fell in love with in the first place."
As Randou listened to his explanation, he could not help but glance at him.
Akiya was a very peculiar person, always carrying a contradictory mix of insecurity and pride. He was excessively modest, yet around those he was close to, that unusual sharpness would inevitably show itself, as if he could see through everything.
"Then what is it that she truly fell in love with?" Randou asked.
"A fantasy born of prolonged grief."
Asou Akiya answered calmly, "The mismatch between fantasy and reality creates an immense sense of loss. She thought that being together with him would bring perfect happiness, but in truth, it was simply that she never encountered a second person who made her heart race. At the end of the day, the person she loved was too ordinary, incapable of satisfying her own inner demands."
After giving his answer, Asou Akiya wrapped his arms around Randou, who was seated in the chair. "Love is precious. For ordinary people, an ordinary romance is enough to bring fulfillment. But for those with a powerful sense of self, those who want to break free from the constraints of reality, a moment of madness cannot sustain love, and a life as bland as water will extinguish passion. They need more stimulation, more adventure, more and more love that allows a person to embrace the world."
Randou drew an inference from this at once. "So, is that why you agreed to let me join the Mafia, Akiya?"
"Yes." Asou Akiya half-lowered his eyelids, his expression gentle, yet carrying a hint of fervor that ordinary people did not possess. "Our love will never be ordinary. Only by constantly keeping it fresh can I see all the different sides of you, Randou."
"I'm not that kind of person," Randou denied being someone who loved adventure, though he could not suppress the smile on his face.
Whether that was true or not no longer mattered.
The person he had fallen in love with would stand beside him amid gunfire and bloodshed, seeking happiness through love and desire. He enjoyed the free-spirited indulgence of a Bohemian lifestyle, and he also enjoyed the novelty and stimulation brought by the Port Mafia.
"Akiya, let's call the novel Cinnabar Mole and Mosquito Blood," Randou said.
"It shatters at a single touch."
"That kind of feeling isn't worth keeping."
Randou tossed the manuscript aside and discussed with Akiya the poems he could never quite complete.
Several unfinished poems lay beyond the limits of his empathy.
He could not understand those emotions, and so he could not write the feelings the poems were meant to convey.
Asou Akiya recalled the poems together with him while looking at the French lines Randou had written, thinking that Randou's handwriting was breathtakingly beautiful—especially his signature, which stirred an almost impulsive desire to carve it into one's own body.
A tattoo? Not something to consider in the short term—what if seeing Artur Rimbaud's name every day became too overwhelming?
His wife's physical and mental well-being came first.
"Really beautiful."
Asou Akiya praised as he always did, though it was unclear whether he was praising the person, or the name itself.
Randou suddenly switched to a soft brush tip from a set of Japanese stationery and doodled a tiny heart on Akiya's cheek.
I love you~.
You won't be mosquito blood.
Even if you turned into a single grain of white rice, I'd still eat you—I'd never find you unworthy.
...
Half a month later, Ozaki Kouyou received a brand-new novel.
The packaging and cover were pristine, the scent of fresh ink still lingering—it was a newly released romance novel, packed with elements of rebirth, elopement, revenge, a yakuza heiress, and reconciliation after separation.
The content was trendy enough to seize a young girl's attention at once, and she eagerly began to read.
While slacking off, Ozaki Kouyou completely ignored Asou Akiya, spending the entire morning immersed in the world of the novel. She watched the story's heroine—the reborn yakuza heiress—encounter countless outstanding men, abandon the marriage arranged by her parents, and yet ultimately still choose to stay with her ordinary first love. For reasons she could not quite explain, a sense of regret welled up in her heart…
It seemed as though a voice within her was saying: That's not so bad—faithful from beginning to end.
But another voice objected: What's good about it? Is being together really the same as love? Shouldn't love be mutual affection, mutual understanding and tolerance, and growing old together with the person who suits you best? After her rebirth, the heroine has power, wealth, and striking beauty, while the male lead has been stripped of the glow of memory—utterly ordinary, lacking ambition, his greatest achievement merely being that he does not hold her back. Is this man truly suitable for her?
Ozaki Kouyou was at a loss.
She looked toward the black-haired young man who had given her the novel, the powerful urge to confide pushing her to speak.
"Asou-san, have you read this novel?"
"I have."
"Do you think the two of them are really suited to be together?"
"I don't know," Asou Akiya replied. "All I know is that love is an equal relationship. If you give, the other person must also give. If one side stays strong while the other remains weak for too long, the relationship is bound to run into trouble sooner or later."
"So you mean… the male lead didn't put in enough effort? That he merely benefited from the heroine's early vulnerability?"
"Exactly. He's too weak. If he doesn't strive harder, how could he ever hope to hold on to that rose?"
Asou Akiya was speaking about the shortcomings of the novel's male protagonist, yet at the same time, he was also speaking about Hazama Kan'ichi and Ozaki Kouyou.
Don't let love blind you.
When the day comes, you must have qualities worthy enough to match the fantasy you believe in.
"Kouyou-kun, you're excellent in your own right. Don't ever let yourself be deceived by just any man. You should know that single men in their twenties are the most desperate to want a wife—doing something reckless wouldn't be strange at all."
What was elopement, anyway?
To win Randou over, he had already pre-booked three seaside graves for himself.
Within the Port Mafia's combat unit, Randou stood out with ease during training. He made no effort to conceal his brilliance, using it to secure a higher position, possessing an innate sensitivity to combat.
Many people would never reach his starting line in an entire lifetime.
He was in the midst of blooming, radiating his own light.
Amid darkness, amid bloodshed, he was confident that he could reclaim his combat instincts as naturally as he wrote poetry.
[Catherine once said that people with potential are more likely to awaken their abilities in moments of danger, excavating the deeper layers of their true selves. That is why she was always chasing emotional eruptions and the thrill of standing on the brink between life and death.]
[I wanted the power to protect Akiya, and so I awakened "Illuminations."]
[I am fortunate…]
[In this foreign land…]
The snow was still falling.
This Far Eastern port city was draped in silver and white, and little by little, it became Randou's second hometown.
Out on the sea, cargo ships passed back and forth without pause, and the docks were bustling with activity as goods were unloaded.
Not far away, a murder scene had just occurred.
Snow had piled up on Edogawa Ranpo's detective cap as he stared at the corpse with sparkling excitement and shouted,
"Ability—Super Deduction!"
Beside him.
Fukuzawa Yukichi clenched his teeth and once again unleashed the "Air Strike" effect from his "Ancient Martial Arts," creating a bluffing spectacle to support Edogawa Ranpo's entirely nonexistent supernatural ability.
The surrounding air seemed to shudder violently!
Objects were affected!
Edogawa Ranpo's hat was nearly blown off, his body swayed, and all the snow that had piled up on him was shaken loose and scattered.
Edogawa Ranpo, completely oblivious to having been struck by such an overwhelming surge of momentum, proceeded to unleash his powers of deduction.
Five seconds later.
A miracle of case-solving was born.
The onlookers stared in amazement and exclaimed, "So this is a detective who solves cases using supernatural abilities!"
Fukuzawa Yukichi withdrew his aura, his face expressionless, resembling nothing so much as a cold and stern bodyguard.
No one would ever understand his despair.
No one!
Ranpo's guardian would only join Ranpo in stirring up the excitement!
If heaven were to grant him another chance, he would definitely go back in time and beat to death his own lying self!
After helping the police solve the case, Edogawa Ranpo bounced about happily, beaming with delight as he circled Fukuzawa Yukichi and said, "Uncle Fukuzawa, I feel like my ability has grown stronger. The burst of power just now even blew all the snow away!"
Fukuzawa Yukichi: "…Yes."
How much longer will this mortifying scene going to continue?!
After teaming up with him, Edogawa Ranpo was brimming with fighting spirit: "This one's wrapped up—on to the next job!"
Fukuzawa Yukichi followed behind him with heavy steps.
His footprints were left behind in the thin layer of snow, no longer crisp and clean, but tinged with a faint sense of weariness and age.
The so-called Silver Wolf—
was nothing more than a nanny carrying a cat in his mouth.
...
Cinnabar Mole and Mosquito Blood: If I could save you, would our lives become happy?
—Reader (Asou Akiya).