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It is Junior Year, and things are supposed to be the same as ever. Poe will walk into his first class, find his seat, give a polite smile to the teacher as he walks past, set up his workspace (the real importance of that first day), and proceed to keep his head down for the rest of the year; Doing every assignment perfectly, and taking all the extra credit he can get.
Except, he walks into his first class of the day, and then he is in Fifth Grade, standing shakily in front of his whole school as he stares the worst thing that ever happened to him in the face. Again.
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He’d been waiting for this moment since Kindergarten, the chance for the school’s eldest to compete in a 1v1 competition of pure knowledge and wits. His parents thought it was a wonderful idea, pushing him for all his years here to compete in it. They were in the audience now as well! It was the first time they’d shown up to a school event, all parent-teacher conferences were skipped, and he was told that they were unnecessary for someone of his level of intelligence. Poe couldn’t see them now, but his mother told him that they would be there during it, handing him his lunch, made by his favorite of the chefs they had, and waving him out the door.
His opponent was one Edogawa Ranpo, someone he had only seen at school for the past few weeks. Astoundingly odd, as it was the last week of the school year; which begged the question of where he was before this, and why was he here? Either way, he sat lazily in his chair, leaning back and fiddling with the cord to the buzzer. Poe, on the other hand, was sitting up straight- trained to have good posture by his nanny, who was asked by his father to teach him.
The lights dimmed as the ones on the stage switched on, shining on the principal as she walked to the front of the stage, addressing the crowd with a smile and a rehearsed introduction. She moved behind her podium, asking Poe and Ranpo if they were ready, and started with the set of questions. They were easy to start. Out of 101, they would only increase in difficulty as the evening progressed. Poe thought he was a shoe-in to win, with his quick reaction speed and solid spot as the top of his class. Not even the rest of the honors program could compete with him.
Except, Ranpo does. He presses the buzzer milliseconds before Poe does, getting the answer right every time. They get to the last question, tied 50:50, and Poe is afraid . He is scared, and he is shaking harder, and he is trying to hide that because his parents are here , and he is waiting to press the buzzer to answer the deciding query, and he hears the question, and he freezes.
“ How long does it take for a person to die, after their heart stops beating?”
He doesn’t know. It’s the one thing he didn’t study for, and Ranpo answers in the blink of an eye. 50:51. Ranpo wins, and has the audacity to smirk at him as he stands up, walking off the stage looking completely uninterested in everything around him. The next thirty minutes are a blur to him, he accepts his second place prize with a practiced smile, such training cutting through the fog of his mind with ease. What cleared it completely was the wait; Sitting on the curb outside the school, waiting for his parents to come and collect him. The street in front of him was illuminated by flickering street lamps, silhouettes of bugs collected under the bulbs. No one was left in the parking lot now, not even a staff member’s car. It was three miles to his home from here, only an hour’s walk, yet the second he took a break, he was sobbing.
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The forensic science textbook burned a hole in his bag, the heavily annotated chapters on human anatomy ablaze. Six years was a while to hold a grudge. Even Poe knew that his hatred had simmered down over time. Whilst no longer a fury that ate at him, there was still some deep seated need to prove himself to the other man.
Nevertheless, he buffered with this for but a second, stiffly sliding into his seat across from one, Edogawa Ranpo, after a short pause. He could feel the other man’s eyes on him as he unpacked, resuming his start-of-the-year routine as if nothing was awry. Looking up from his notebooks, he met Ranpo’s gaze from across the table.
He gave an attempt at a smile, lips turning into more of a flat line. “...Hello Ranpo, nice to see you again.” His tone was curt and clipped, pushing past the thick tension in the air.
Ranpo cocked his head to the left, slightly narrowing his eyes as he spoke.
“Do I… know you?”
Maybe that would have been Poe’s final straw at the time. How embarrassing, having a hatred for a person who didn’t even recognize him, and then having to sit by said person all year? Abysmal. At least it would only be one class out of eight, one unfortunate hour every other day- he could handle that. But walking into his next class, and the class after that, and the class after that , and so on and so forth to the same face sitting right next to him in every class. All of it had to be some sort of cruel twist of fate, bent on torturing him personally.
They didn’t talk to each other in class either, Poe pointedly avoided eye contact, while Ranpo acted unbothered and unaware of what was going on in Poe’s mind. Realistically there was no way he could have known what Poe was thinking at any moment, but Poe just wanted to be mad.
His lunches were his escape from it all, sneaking up to the library and studying books until the bell rang, his sandwich going neglected in his bag until he made it to his car at the end of the day. Everyone else had friend’s to sit with, hidden alcoves to relax in during the half-hour. Meanwhile, Poe’s two friends went to the all-girls school on the other side of town, and had a different lunch hour than him.
Lucy, ever the rebel, would usually cut class to text him. If the bathroom she was hiding in was empty, sometimes they would call for a short time, just to catch up.
Louisa, the more rule-abiding one, would text him during the time between classes. She was a quick typer, so there were usually a few paragraphs waiting for him when he was done with his class.
They were really it, and Poe was fine with that. He was completely content with how his schedule ran, and whom he (willingly) interacted with. It was the middle of October before anything actually changed, and by all means, things shouldn’t have changed. In his history class, there was a short two-person project with an assigned partner. Of course, Poe was paired with Ranpo, as if whatever higher being was twisting fate would allow otherwise.
It wasn’t awful. The work was divided evenly, and they ended up finishing it in half the time allotted. Both really stuck in their own lane, and were done around the same time. Poe actually ended up finishing a few minutes before Ranpo, a small win in his book. He spent his extra time studying. He’d gotten a text from his mother, telling him to take some advanced placement tests in a few months, and there was only so much time. Sometimes, he could feel Ranpo looking at him while taking notes. It was quite common. Should he confront the guy about his staring problem? It evolved to more than that the following week.
The library doors closed with a heavy wooden click, making the first sound in the library apart from pages turning in a while. Poe paid it no mind, most likely someone slipping in to return a library book while they had a free moment. Poe was tucked into the back corner, set up at a table surrounded by shelves, no one really checked back here unless they were lost, or wanted to find nonfiction authors with last names V-Z.
The soft thud of shoes on carpet went unnoticed to him as he read through an example dissertation on cybercrime, a boring topic, but something he still needed to review for an enriching study session. It wasn’t until those footsteps stopped across from him and spoke, did Poe realize who was interrupting him.
“So, are you always studying? Or do I just happen to catch you on your off days.” Ranpo was standing across from him, dark beige paperboy cap sitting crooked on his head, tilting the same direction of the shoulder said person’s bag was on. His eyebrows were raised in amusement, that same signature smirk taunting Poe already.
“Ha ha,” Poe deadpanned, “I’m just reading over this dissertation. Calling it studying would be… a stretch.”
Ranpo pulled out the chair closest to him, plopping himself down and leaning over to glance at the packet on the table. He skimmed the cover and fell back into his seat with a hum.
“I read that one. Not worth the ten minutes, all its points are easily debunked and it’s quite bland.”
“You read a thirty page dissertation in ten minutes?”
“Can’t you?”
Poe gave a small chuckle and moved the paper off to the side, “Alright Ranpo, recommend me something.”
“Well,” Ranpo leaned back in his chair, balancing on the back two legs, “What are you interested in?”
“...My parents are putting me in schooling for forensic science.”
“That’s not what I asked, Edgar.”
Hm.
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“-And I just don’t know Louisa, no one’s ever said that to me! Can I say that I love him? Is it too soon? There’s bound to be rules for the transition between wanting to kill someone and wanting to kiss someone, right?” Poe groaned, falling back in his chair and letting his head fall up to look at the ceiling.
“Quit moving, you’ll mess up your nails.” Louisa sat on a chair across from him, waving the open bottle of nail polish at him with every syllable. Up-beat pop music drifted across the air, the burnt out speaker in the bathroom crackling with every high note. If you craned your head just right, you could see Lucy in the mirror, starting to touch up her faded red hair with a bottle of dye months old.
They did this every two weeks, gathering in Lucy’s house to hang out and catch up, while Lucy dyes her hair. Every other Saturday without fail, Poe would end up with a free facial and painted nails, done by Louisa.
“Let me live , Louisa-” Poe started, only to be interrupted by a clatter, followed by a shriek. Lucy ran into the room, half of her head covered in dye and her hands plastered with neon red. She looked right at Poe in all of his face-masked glory, green goop cool against his skin as he feared what the next words out of her mouth would be.
“I need you to go to the store. Now. All of my dye just went right down the drain, literally, and I can’t have half a head of coral and half cherry! I’ll look like a clown Edgar!”
“Lucy!” Poe gestured to the state of himself, his droopy hair that normally fell in his eyes was tied back with a puffy blue hair tie, and he was wearing ratty pajama pants, half hidden by an oversized t-shirt, “Can it wait?! Or can’t Louisa go!”
“I don’t have a license.” Louisa interjected.
“And I obviously can’t go, have you seen my hands?”
“Okay, fine! I’ll be right back,” Poe faced the two as he walked out of the room, slipping on his house shoes, “But you owe me!”
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Finding himself in the hair dye section with his phone precariously balanced on his shoulder was, ideally, not where he wanted to end up at 9 PM on a Saturday night. There was almost certainly some face mask on his phone screen, he didn’t have the time to wash it off before he left, nor was he able to take his hair out before he got to the store. Lucy’s voice spoke loudly over the phone, directing him through trial and error on which hair dye to purchase from the expansive stock.
He was looking at what looked like the same color, but had different brand names on them, when he saw someone rounding the corner out of the corner of his eye; An all-too familiar cap marching towards him, going unnoticed until it was too late. Ranpo collided into Poe lightly, more bouncing off him and stumbling back than harming the other. He looked up from his phone screen, looking up at Poe through rectangular glasses that he normally wasn’t seen in.
“Edgar! Deciding to go red, eh? I never would have taken you as the type!” Ranpo leaned towards him, shoulder pressing into his arm as Ranpo looked at the colors he was holding.
Poe moved the phone off his shoulder, “I’ll… call you back, Luce.” He was met with the muffled sounds of yelling, protests mixed with instructions on the right brand were barely audible as he hit the ‘end call’ button. Amusement was clear on Ranpo’s face, having definitely heard the choice language Lucy was using before the connection was severed.
“Friend ran out of dye?” Ranpo questioned, “These aren’t the ones you want if she said vampire red. Manic Panic is at the end of the aisle, next to the hair clips.” He took the boxes out of Poe’s hand, placing them back in their respective spots on the shelf, and grabbed his wrist- leading him down to where said items were.
Poe silently placed two bottles in his basket, turning back to face Ranpo, who was looking at him expectantly. “Ah, thank you, Ranpo.”
“No problem Edgar! Friends help each other out, y’know?”
Poe was stunned. Friends? He supposed, if one had an entirely twisted perception of what friends were, then maybe you could call them that. However, Poe did wish to be closer with the other man.
“Yes, I… I suppose we are friends.” Poe said, smiling warmly.
“It’s nice to see your face actually emote, instead of hiding it behind a mop of hair!” Ranpo wiggled his fingers in front of his face, wrist awkwardly bent to simulate Poe’s bangs, “But, anyway, are you free tomorrow? I’m baking a cake and I could really use another set of hands to help!”
With all the calm he could muster, Poe grabbed a pack of hair clips, dropping them into his basket without looking. “I’ll be there. Let me put my number in your phone, so you can text me your address?” Poe was killing it. This was the smoothest way to get someone’s number, and the most efficient. Running into each other in pajamas in the hair care aisle.
“But of course!”
After it was all done, times and locations arranged, the two parted ways, walking opposite ways down the aisle. Ranpo, towards the baking section, and Poe, towards the check out. If either were to turn around, they would see the other pumping their fist in victory, almost simultaneously even, on an interaction well run.
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Ranpo’s house was, surprisingly, not too far away from Poe’s own. It was a typical two story, with a grey-green paint on the outside, most surely sun damaged. Lucy wasn’t responding to his many, many nervous texts, and neither was Louisa. Most likely they were together, watching a movie of some sorts, while Poe stood on the doorstep of his rival-slash-crush-slash-friend’s place. How close to the door did you even stand after you’ve knocked? Is there some unspoken rule? Is it rude to stand too far away from the door? Maybe this was a bad idea. He could probably run fast enough to be off the property before Ranpo reached the door. He may have already rang the doorbell, but Poe had very long legs.
Through the windows around the door, he saw Ranpo run out from somewhere, presumably his room from where he was at the top of the stairs, and watched his face positively light up at the sight of Poe. He ran down the stairs, and threw open the door.
“Poe!” Ranpo exclaimed, wrapping the other man into a tight hug, “Come in, come in! I was waiting for you to get started!” Maybe it was a tad concerning for Poe to simply follow Ranpo like a lost puppy after a single hug, but he was whipped, thoroughly.
The kitchen was small, but still had enough room for the two to maneuver around easily. Two cake pans were sat on the counter next to some butter and eggs, both presumably around room temperature.
“Well Eddie, it’s up to you. Box mix, or scratch?” Ranpo turned to Poe, shaking a box of pre-made cake mix in his hand that he pulled from a cabinet by his head.
“Well, since you have it out already, let’s go with box mix.”
Ranpo nodded, setting down the box on the shelf, and immediately bent down to grab bowls from cupboards below the counter. The flavor was chocolate fudge, a good flavor, but unfortunately for Poe, he was allergic to chocolate. Oh well, he’d just have a small piece when it was finished.
The two worked well together, passing each other utensils and ingredients seamlessly, whilst chattering to one another. Only when it was time to mix it all together, did things go awry. Ranpo brandished an electric hand mixer while Poe threw away eggshells and washed out measuring devices. The second he turned to the sink once again, he heard the thing turn on, followed by a shriek, followed by the distinct feeling of something wet splatter on his back.
He slowly spun on his heel to face Ranpo, who was once again brandishing the electric mixer, yet now covered in half-mixed batter. In fact, there was almost nothing in the bowl anymore, instead painting the cabinets, and Ranpo’s face, with egg whites, cake mix, and oil. Something fell off Poe’s back, splattering a yellow-orange color on the ground.
“...There’s egg yolk on your back.”
The laughter that ripped its way out of Poe’s body could be described as nothing but uproarious. There were tears forming in his eyes, and his arms were wrapped around his stomach in fear it would expel from his body with how hard he was laughing. Ranpo joined him soon after he started, wiping the chocolate muck from his face and back into the bowl.
“Well, from scratch it is!”
“Good thing too, I guess. I’m allergic to chocolate. Pass the bowl here? I need to clean it out.”
“And you weren’t going to say anything? Ed, How could you!”
“I didn’t want to be a bother! You already had the box out anyway, I was just going to eat a small piece!”
“ Edgar. ” Ranpo said, with all the exasperation he could possibly muster, the smile on his face betraying his tone. There was something about Ranpo saying his name, his first name, that resonated with something deep within himself.
He always thought of himself as Poe, and there were only four people who called him Edgar. His parents, when they were upset, Lucy, and Louisa. He’d only met the last two in middle school, who were the first people to call his name with kindness in their voice. Ranpo was different somehow. When Ranpo said his name, with happiness, annoyance, and most commonly, exasperation, it never pulled any of those old rotten correlations with it. Ranpo could spit his name at his feet, and nothing he could ever do would remind him of nights locked in his bedroom over a missing assignment, the cold air of his hallways as he snuck food away from the kitchens, the sickly yellow light he worked by into the late hours of the night.
“Alright, alright, I’ll stick to vanilla this time.” Poe smiled, “Shall we?”
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After the cake was in the oven, Poe went back to cleaning up while Ranpo sat on the counter watching. They’d wiped down the countertops and cabinets before they got started on the new cake, and this time Poe made sure he was the one who did all the mixing this time around. Yet, now as bowls were cleaned and certain spatulas were stolen and licked, Ranpo did what he did best.
“What do you want to be? Y’know, when we graduate.”
Hard questions.
“...A forensic scientist.”
“That’s not true and you know it.”
Poe sighed. “Ranpo… It’s just what’s easiest.”
“If you don’t have a plan, you can just say so. I have no idea what I’ll do after highschool. Something fun, probably, but other than that, no clue.”
There was the ever-present question that pressed at the front of his skull every time he talked to Ranpo. How, how, how. But Poe knew that question’s answer far too well. I don’t know . So, Poe thought.
“If you don’t have an idea, I’ll just get a high paying job, and you can live with me! I don’t mind you mooching. You deserve to mooch.”
Poe laughed. “I think… I’d quite like to be a writer.”
Ranpo nodded in approval.
“That’s a good job for you. I think you’d write wonderful things.” He paused. “Oh, and Ed?”
“Mn?”
“Your parents kinda suck.”
“Yeah… I know.”
Was it sad to say that he didn’t before?
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The change in the brisk autumn air to the biting cold of winter was apparent in more ways than one. Poe and Ranpo grew closer, no longer tense silence between the two while in school, instead hushed whispers during class and muffled giggles. Unfortunately for the teachers, the two were arguably the only people in the class who could confidently slack off while maintaining beyond perfect grades, so they were usually allowed to continue with their conversations. Leaves fell on the sidewalks where they walked with each other, crunching underneath worn soles as whatever they decided to talk about drifted along the air. By November, it was rare to see the two apart during school. Genuine competition in classes became playful banter, bragging rights at most.
The last day of school before winter break, Poe slept over at Ranpo’s, the two clamoring into the same queen mattress, legs intertwined as they fell asleep, still chatting about anything and everything. In the morning, the two stumbled out the door, bundled up in winter clothes. Ranpo held a picnic basket in his hands, boxes of sweet treats just barely poking out of the lid. Poe had a blanket folded over his arms, similar to a waiter in a fancy restaurant.
The park they ended up at was empty, the colder-than-normal air scaring everyone else away at this hour. There was a spot off the path, a clearing surrounded by trees, cut through with a measly river, nearly frozen from the cold. Blankets were laid down, and thermos unpacked, a feast fit for a king; Or, better yet, two measly highschool kids, who were friends against all odds. They ate in the opposite of silence, speaking the world to each other and responding back with the force of space, truly, anything and everything .
“Ranpo, I have a query for you.”
“When do you not?”
The words hung in the air as snow started to drift down lazily, dusting the ground and falling on the only people around. “What all do you remember from our first meeting...?” Poe watched as his words drifted through Ranpo’s head, being ignored as the man reached up to catch a snowflake on his fingernail.
“What don’t I?” Ranpo looked over at Poe, “I remember showing up at school at about six, and then sitting by this boy with the prettiest eyes- really, you should have been there, Edgar! But the poor thing was shaking like a leaf.”
Ranpo laughed like a bell on the wind, his eyes closing for just a moment as he did.
“Pretty, you say?”
“Oh yes, quite.” Ranpo smiled, “Naturally, I decide to beat him in the event, just to take the stress off his shoulders, yet imagine my surprise! Six years later, he hates me!”
“Alright, don’t get too cocky. Who, exactly, didn’t show up for the rest of the year?” Poe scoffed. Really, he thought that if he could only talk to Ranpo, chat for but a moment, everything would have been cleared up much sooner. No six years full of tapered off vitriol and dull anger.
“Oh, but my dear Edgar! How I would have loved to stay and talk with the pretty boy from the competition, but moving across the country makes that a little hard, don’t you think? If it were up to me, I most definitely would have stayed there for that last week of school, chat with the pretty boy, maybe invite him to hang out after school, on the weekends, on picnics…” Ranpo trailed off, a large and goofy smile on his face as he let the list he was making with his hands drop.
They stared at each other in silence, and then silence with poorly muffled laughter, and then no silence, as the two laughed and fell over, twisting around towards the sky as the volume went down.
“You… are the worst person I’ve ever met, Ranpo.” The snow fell heavier as Poe spoke, amusement clear in his tone.
“You love me, though.”
“Yeah. Yeah I do.”
There wasn’t really a word for what you could call Poe and Ranpo. Lovers, was the closest thing, yet also wildly inaccurate. Their friends knew about this, everyone they knew did really, and there was no question on what they were. Poe and Ranpo. Ranpo and Poe.