Chapter Text
The Agency's battling forces are divided into three groups. Each has their main ability, the field in which those members excel most in.
The first one, perfect for physical combat, is where Kenji, Atsushi and Kunikida's strength comes in handy. The second one, more of a mixed group, is where Kyoka, Dazai and Tanizaki's precise abilities help them get out of various situations.
Then the last one is formed of the three remaining members. Bringing these people to missions is too risky, and so they stay in the Agency most of the time, still being just as helpful.
Yosano's healing ability is the backbone of the ADA's well-being. Naomi, with no ability to her name, helps as much as she can with the office's paperwork. Lastly, Ranpo's “ultradeduction” makes him the invincible detective.
Or that's what Dazai relentlessly tries to convince Fukuzawa of, given this morning he was shocked when a mission with the detective was tasked to him.
Normally, members are just expected to accept and complete the orders. But this time Dazai seems like he can't just stay silent.
"With all due respect, president, one thing is to solve a murder case where there's no risk of being attacked. But you're telling me to bring him to a dangerous mission where the enemy is present and ready to fight."
“I know it's risky.” Fukuzawa starts, sighing tiredly. It's clear he doesn't want to send Ranpo to that mission either, but he finds himself with no other option.
"But we still don't know what the enemy's next move will be. All we know is where they'll be gathered, and Ranpo's ability won't work if he's not present. Being there will let him deduct all the details we need."
The president is right. He's right, Dazai knows it. Still, he finds himself sickly worried about it.
He would love to say he is just looking at things from a rational point of view.
Ranpo isn't fit for missions. His physical strength is almost null, and he is known for his reckless attitude.
But he knows that isn't all. It's because it is Ranpo, out of all the members, that he hesitates more.
Something in his heart tells him to keep him protected, distanced from all violence, treasured.
"I understand then." Dazai replies in a low tone, ready to leave when Fukuzawa's voice stops him.
"I know you care for Ranpo. But I trust you to protect him."
The former mafioso widens his eyes in shock. He, of all people, is entrusted with the protection of another person. By no other than the president, the man who took Ranpo as his own son.
Still, Fukuzawa is right, he does care for him, and finds himself decided. He won't let Ranpo live the world of cruelty and danger he was born into.
Of course, the older detective is just as hard to convince.
"No way, no way! Why me?" Ranpo complains loudly, sitting in the president's office with the biggest pout in his face.
Fukuzawa closes his eyes, clearly annoyed with how long this is taking him. Ironically enough, both Dazai and Ranpo are acting like two stubborn kids.
"Ranpo, we need you. I'm asking humbly, we can't do it without you. Only you can do something as amazing as this."
For some seconds, the man stays silent, then his body relaxes. The president knows exactly how to handle him after so many years together.
"I better have a lot of sweets when I come back."
When the president is finally satisfied with Ranpo's response he lets him leave his office. The detective gets out still grumpily, and finds Dazai is sitting right at his chair's side.
He's lazily looking at the ceiling, a feeling of defeat in his eyes that the older can share. It's clear there's nothing they can do to change this.
"So, guess there's no chance for us to get out of this one, huh?" Dazai starts the conversation, eyes still fixated somewhere else in the room.
"Yeah.” The detective opens one of his various bags of snacks laying on his desk and opens it before continuing. “Looks like you all can't do anything without my amazing ability."
“Hm,” Dazai lowly chuckles, turning to look at Ranpo with soft and honest eyes, “we really can't.”
For just a few seconds, all around them is silent. The comment had come out way more serious than he intended, changing the mood drastically.
Ranpo looks at his eyes, and feels himself getting lost in them.
They have always been unique. Most of the time, they look empty. Whether he's playfully annoying Kunikida or fighting a dangerous enemy, nothing seems to faze them.
But Ranpo swears, if you look hard enough, you'd realize they're not empty. In fact, they're filled to the brim.
An infinite spiral of emotions swirls in his eyes. It's dark and clouded, like a huge mist is making it hard to identify just what he's feeling at any moment.
Some days, they don't even look alive. But on other days, if just for a few seconds, he can see him better than ever. Like a sunny day after a storm, it all becomes clear to him.
The problem is, Dazai notices this too. And he doesn't let himself be vulnerable.
“Though, what a pain that I'll have to babysit you.”
And with that, he breaks the connection, hiding behind a facade built of jokes and lies. Still, Ranpo lets him do so, and sees a hint of gratitude in Dazai's eyes.
“Hey!” Another closed bag of snacks goes flying, throwed by the detective, hitting the other's shoulder. “I'm a grown ass man, you know?”
The response he gets is a small laugh, but it's enough to make Ranpo open his eyes in admiration.
How can a sound so lovely come out of someone whose entire existence is so terribly sad? And what makes him of all people special enough to witness it?
“Yeah, yeah.” Dazai's quick reflexes let him grab the bag before it touches the floor. “Whatever.”
The younger man, knowing damn too well how much Ranpo appreciates his snacks, opens it and starts eating from it with a smirk.
He's not really hungry, but that way he can get the playfully angry response from Ranpo, and can see his face form the cutest pout ever as he complains. Though he notices the bag contains, coincidentally enough, what he remembers having told Ranpo to be his favorite snack.
He smiles softly at the poorly hidden detail, being pulled out from his own thoughts when Ranpo moves closer to the younger. He doesn't really ask for the bag itself, but demands Dazai to “at least share what you've stolen”.
Not intending to lose the little game they're playing, Ranpo eagerly tries to reach the arm Dazai has stretched in the opposite direction, distancing it from the older's reach.
But suddenly Ranpo's body is almost on top of the other, still on his chair but carelessly sitting on his own legs with his torso touching Dazai's. Their small laughs quiet out as they both realize the situation they got themselves into.
Ranpo finally gets his eyes off the bag, and when he turns his head to the side he realizes just how close it is to Dazai's. Still, they don't awkwardly stop it nor get away from each other.
“So eager for just one of your infinite snacks.” Dazai smiles at him, a quiet chuckle escaping his mouth. The other stops trying to reach it as he laughs too, but stays right at the younger's side, shoulders almost touching.
This one puts the bag in the middle, silently offering to share when Ranpo takes a handful of the snack and stuffs it in his mouth.
The room gets quieter, but it's in no way uncomfortable. Dazai always thought that one of the best parts of being in the Agency was that he could enjoy the simple but happy moments like these.
And Ranpo was slowly becoming the protagonist of most of them. When together, they created this safe and comfortable space, full of dumb jokes and games where they didn't have to worry about anything else.
Neither of them would ever admit it, but it's in situations like this when they wish they were paired to work together more often.
“So, a ballroom, huh? Kinda weird place for an illegal organization to gather.” Ranpo starts, remembering what Fukuzawa had told him earlier.
The details of the mission are rather simple. The location: A ballroom inside a luxurious mansion.
The complex building will serve as the perfect space for the enemy to gather. Classified documents and valuable information will be traded, all camouflaged by the seemingly normal party.
The orders? Get in, blend with the rest of the guests, and accede to those documents to collect enough information for Ranpo. All without getting caught.
Simple, yeah.
Dazai nervously gulps, finding it hard to remain calm. He always has everything perfectly planned, predicting the outcome meticulously.
Except this time, something tells him a lot of things could go wrong without him being able to protect his dear companion.