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Ranpo has a secret.
Not his secret, mind you, but Dazai’s . You see, Dazai has a widely recognized nervous tick where he touches the broach on his collar. What Ranpo notices that others don’t, is that sometimes, Dazai will reach just a little lower before correcting himself. Ranpo’s conclusion: Dazai is married. But to whom, he keeps having to ask himself. Even after using his “ability”, Ranpo was only able to confirm that he was right. There was no evidence of who that mysterious somebody could be.
Now, Ranpo would ask around, except the problem with being smarter than everyone he works with means that they probably have no clue. Ranpo sighs for the nth time, laying his head on his desk as he ponders this dilemma over a bag of chips. Atsushi looks over at the faint breath.
“Ranpo-san, that is the fifth time you’ve sighed in the last,” Atsushi checks the clock on the wall, “twelve minutes. Are you ok?”
Ranpo smiles at Atsushi’s ever present kindness. “Thanks for asking but, it’s nothing you could help me with.”
Atsushi visibly deflates a bit before perking up again.
“Is it related to a case? Do you need someone else?” Ranpo smiles at the 18 year old’s insistence to help as an idea enters his head.
“Actually yeah, if you could find Dazai-kun for me, that would be great.”
Atsushi stands, saluting Ranpo before running off to find his mentor.
-
Ranpo is pleasantly surprised when Atsushi actually manages to find Dazai within the hour. The bandages wrapped detective looks bored while Atsushi looks somewhat annoyed.
“Ranpo-san!” Atsushi called out, looking around the office while holding Dazai by the arm.
Ranpo gets up from his desk and smirks at Dazai. “Thank you Atsushi-kun. If you wouldn’t mind, need to talk to Dazai-kun alone for this case.”
Atsushi’s eyes widen a smidge before he bows lightly.
“Ah! Yes, sorry!” He exclaims before walking back to his desk. Dazai looks over at Ranpo, eyeing the great detective suspiciously before speaking.
“So, why exactly was my bridge-side nap interrupted?”
Ranpo points to where the ring hangs under Dazai’s shirt. “It was interrupted because you are married, and I want to know to who.”
Dazai looked surprised before smiling at the short detective.
“Should’ve known you’d figure it out eventually. Anyone else know?” Dazai asks in a neutral tone, dodging Ranpo’s question.
“No, I’m not you, but I sure was tempted. I just didn’t want to say anything without being able to name your spouse. So, who is she? Anyone we know?”
Dazai, to his credit, was very good at keeping a straight face. Not good enough that Ranpo wouldn’t pick up on his shoulders tensing. The great detective snaps his fingers with a smile.
“Aha! So we do know her!” He exclaims.
“How come you weren’t able to tell who it is if you used your ability?” Dazai asked the older detective. Ranpo frowns at that.
“Well, somehow, other than your ring, there isn’t a single trace on you or at the agency that would elude me to whom your spouse might be.” He concludes in a salty tone. Dazai smirks and leans down to Ranpo’s height.
“I could tell you who it is if it’s such a challenge. I’m sure you won’t be able to figure it out yourself.” Dazai suggests, tone of voice challenging Ranpo. He narrows his eyebrows and opens his eyes to look Dazai in the eyes.
“How about you let me inspect your apartment. Only once, you choose the rooms I get to see. I have no need for you to tell me. Do we have a deal?”. Ranpo extends his hand.
Dazai smirks like he’s won already. He shakes Ranpo’s hand.
“Bet.”.
-
Dazai’s apartment is exactly what Ranpo expects. An organized mess in the living room with a few rooms splitting off. Ranpo looks up at Dazai with his hands on his hips, awaiting to hear the limitations of his search. Dazai stands silent, thinking, for a moment before smiling at Ranpo.
“Alright! You can go in any room, except for… the kitchen.”
Ranpo raises an eyebrow in question. The kitchen ? Ranpo was allowed in Dazai’s bedroom of all places, just not the kitchen. Dazai shrugs and waves his arm in a gesture that tells Ranpo to start his work.
Ranpo enters the bedroom first, obviously, as Dazai’s apartment has shown signs of someone else staying over for at least the night, constantly enough that Ranpo could see the evidence without his ability.
The room itself is small, a twin bed sits in the corner with the only other items in the room being a nondescript bookcase, likely holding all of Dazai’s liked books and trinkets, a desk with a shitty looking desk lamp on the corner of it and rickety chair that looks like it hasn’t been used in years .
Ranpo glares at the room, knowing Dazai is smirking behind him. The older detective inspects the bed, slipping his glasses on. Unsurprisingly, he doesn’t find much, only he now knows her hair colour (a vibrant shade of orange), and her hair length (likely a bob or other hairstyle that ends around the neck). Ranpo wracks his brain for a female co-worker that meets the current evidence. Nothing.
Cursing Dazai silently, Ranpo pushes past the younger detective who’s smirk only grew as if he could sense Ranpo’s ego taking the hit.
He tries to go into the next room, holtly walking around the doorframe, when Dazai blocks his entry.
“Uh uh~,” Dazai hums in a singsong, “The kitchen is off limits, Ranpo-kun. Remember?”
Ranpo’s sour expression only deepens. He huffs and checks the next room over. The bathroom. Nothing. Then the next room. A spare bedroom, untouched by Dazai and anyone else. Nothing. Ranpo ends up in the living room. Nothing .
After using his ability in every room he could, his conclusion is incredibly lacklustre and underwhelming by Ranpo’s standards. The (un)lucky lady is short, a bit shorter than him, fiery orange hair not longer than her shoulders, a smart and stylish taste in coats (at least the ones she’s left in Dazai’s closet), regularly wears a black choker (and whether that’s also for the bedroom, Ranpo would rather leave unknown), and has been married to Dazai for a long time, at least four to five years. He relays all this to Dazai.
“Mmm… I see. All pretty correct, though we’ll have to agree to disagree on the style part.” Dazai says, nodding, “Though I will have to ask, how did you figure how long we’ve been married?”
At this, Ranpo smirks deviously.
“You see, her job must be something high stakes because her ring is on your bedside table, very pretty by the way. So, either she can’t be known as a married woman, and by the way, how you even stayed married at all, despite you being… you, it amazes me. Anyways, she either can’t be known as a married woman on the job or (more likely) doesn’t want to be asked about her relationship status.” Ranpo finishes with his hands on hips, pushing up his glasses with a smirk. Dazai looks somewhat surprised, eyebrows raised and lips pursed.
Then, that horrible, horrible , smile widens across the younger detective’s face.
“I must say, all in all, an incredible deduction, truly, but…” Dazai draws out the U, “you claimed earlier that they were someone you know. So, who is it?” Dazai’s tone is playful and mischievous, making Ranpo scrunch up his nose.
The great detective thinks hard, using all the evidence he’s found to try and piece together a profile of who the woman is. And yet, Ranpo has never heard nor seen any woman that fits that description, agency or otherwise, around the city.
Now, Ranpo may be pretentious at times, but he’s not stupid. He knows that there very well could be a woman with orange hair, 5’3”, who works a somewhat intense job somewhere in this city. But Dazai, despite being called a womanizer by a handful of people and despite him asking numerous women to commit double suicide with him, when he has been asked on dates by a disturbing amount of women (trust him he’s been there for more that a few), he always politely turns them down. That itself isn’t uncanny, he’s married (somehow), but it’s the subtle, millisecond, look of disinterest that catches Ranpo’s eye every time.
The answer hits Ranpo like a train. He turns slowly, giving Dazai an incredulous and shocked look. The shitty bastard actually gets out his phone to take a picture.
“You’ve figured it out, I assume?” Dazai says in a gleeful voice.
“This isn’t a joke right? There’s only one person who you know well enough to have been married to.” Ranpo’s eyes are wide open. For all the mental damage this little investigation has done to his ego, he will need some major relaxation time with Poe. Maybe he could read Ranpo one of his poems again.
Dazai grins sharkishly and shakes his head.
“This is no joke I’m afraid, Ranpo-san. But then again, don’t take my word for it.”
Ranpo hears the door unlock as he turns to see the person they’ve all been waiting for open the door.
Nakahara Chuuya.
-
Atsushi knows better than to pry too deeply into his coworkers lives and what rambunctious stuff they do in their downtime, at least that’s what Kunikida-san tells him. But when not even Karl can cheer up Ranpo the next day, Atsushi knows that his mentor must’ve done something to wound the senior detective’s ego that badly.
That’s how Atsushi, against his better judgement, finds himself at Dazai’s apartment, contemplating on whether to knock or go back and get Kunikida-san for moral support. Atsushi knows how many times the blond man was tasked with waking the lazy detective, seeing as Atsushi was there for most of not all since he started his job.
Turns out, he doesn’t get to choose anymore, as the door opens to reveal Nakahara Chuuya, in the flesh.
They stare at each other for a solid minute before Dazai creeps up behind Chuuya and sleepily wraps his arms around the mafioso.
“Chuuuuuyaaaaaa~,” The bandaged detective whines, “come back to bedddddd. It’s so cold without youuuuuu~.”
Atsushi can see how Chuuya’s face softens when he looks at Dazai. Atsushi takes a few steps back giving him a thumbs up when Chuuya looks(read: glares) at him. The door slams shut, but not before Atsushi sees the silver ring and sizeable azurite gem embedded in the middle.
-
Atsushi enters the agency with a blank look. He never thought his mentor was the type to be married, much less a cheater! And with a mafia executive of all people, especially Chuuya.
Everyone at the agency, sensing a disturbance in the ways of the natural world, all start to crowd the 18 year old, interrogating him on his current facial expression.
It isn’t until Ranpo stands on his desk and drops three books on the ground at once that he gets everyone’s attention.
“Listen, you have questions I have answers and a need to trash talk Dazai-kun before he gets here. Who wants answers first?”
Everyone’s hands go up. Ranpo, most curious about the elephant (or rather, tiger) in the room, chooses Atsushi first.
“Um, did you know that Dazai-san is married? And, based on what I saw… earlier, I think he may be… cheating.”
The room erupts into cacophony. Ranpo has to drop another three books to get their attention again.
“Yes, I knew he was married, but only yesterday did I find out to whom.” Ranpo says with a dramatic sigh.
“But going by what Atsushi-kun has claimed, he is cheating? On whom with whom? Kunikida asks to the room. Ranpo smirks and tilts his head while looking at Atsushi.
“Well? Who was he with?” He asks is a sly tone, already knowing the answer.
“Uhm… he was with Chuuya-san.”
Mayhem. That would appropriately describe the office at Atsushi’s words. Ranpo flips his desk to get everyone’s attention this time.
However, before he could get a word out, the door bursts open to show the man of the hour himself.
Osamu Dazai.
-
As soon as he gets to the fourth floor, it’s the yelling he hears first. Ah yes, his scandalous marriage with the mafia executive. That sentence alone would turn heads in the office. Entertained, Dazai decides it’s worth his while to wait a bit longer before entering. Interestingly enough, Atsushi has managed to have gotten so confused that he made the story worse, but highly more entertaining for Dazai.
When Ranpo is about to explain it all, he decides it’s time to fill his daily nuisance quota and barges through the door as loudly as possible. All heads turn and stare at him owlishly, the silence loud enough that the other pair of footsteps walking down the hallway is an echoing sound. Chuuya enters, to everyone but Dazai’s surprise, and while everyone gets in a fighting stance, all Dazai does is wave his left hand, ring still on his finger.
“You left this at home, Mackerel.” Chuuya says with a smile as he holds up a bento to Dazai. The detective smiles softly as he takes the bento box from his husband’s hand and gives him a peck on the cheek.
“Thanks slug, I knew I could count on you.” Then, as casually as possible, Dazai lifts Chuuya’s left hand and places a kiss on the back of his ungloved hand, the gold band and sizeable zircon gem visible to the agency, light catching on the maroon gem through the window.
-
Before chaos can commence once again, Dazai answers almost everyone’s burning question since Chuuya left.
“So,” he starts to the room conversationally, inspecting his ring, “you’ve all met my husband, right?”
End.