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“Today really is the perfect day for crepes,” Ranpo sighed. He stretched his arms in the air as he spoke, relishing the feeling of the sun soaking into his shirt. He took a bite; the rich taste of chocolate and hazelnut melted over his tongue. His eyes slipped shut as he hummed in delight.
“To you, every day is,” Kyouka pointed out. “But I see what you mean.” She nibbled at her own crepe—strawberry and cream—taking her time to appreciate the texture and flavor. The fluffy cream swirled with the berries was something she’d never tire of.
Spots of dappled sunshine danced over the grass where they sat. The day was cool and the breeze was light, bringing with it the faint scent of the nearby food stands. Kyouka let the feeling of peace wash over her. It was all still new to her, and it was hard to believe that any of it was real. But there was no denying the sweetness of the strawberries or the scent of grass and clover tickling her nose.
“Thank you for bringing me here,” she said, voice soft. “And thank you for paying. But… I thought we were supposed to be on a case.”
“Of course!” Ranpo beamed. “It’s important to be well-fed before a mission. It keeps the mind sharp and focused, and if you really take your time to appreciate the flavor, you’re more likely to notice little details at the scene that make or break a case. Kinda like a warm-up for your senses.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, watch.” Ranpo took a bite of his crepe. He hummed as he chewed thoughtfully and leaned up to look at the sky. Wispy clouds crossed the sky like watercolors bleeding down paper.
“What kinds of things do you notice?”
“The dough is still warm,” Ranpo said after swallowing. “The filling is a bit meltier than it should be, probably because they started using a new brand of hazelnut cream. I can tell ‘cuz it’s sweeter and smoother than usual. The consistency is supposed to be kinda thick. Custard-y, you know?”
Kyouka did not know.
“Normally I hate when they change brands and don’t say anything, but I like this better, so I’ll count it as a win.” Ranpo hummed as he took another bite, swaying his head side-to-side as he often did when he was happy.
Kyouka took a bite of her own crepe and chewed slowly. Was looking at the sky part of Ranpo’s technique? She gazed up, watching as clouds dissipated into their bright blue canvas.
“Mine is more like a mousse… The whipped cream is fresh, too. It’s light but because of the heat, the sides kind of melt together with the strawberry juice.”
“And how are the strawberries?”
“They’re tasty. Not sour at all.”
“Makes sense,” Ranpo nodded. “The owner buys all of his fruit at the Sunday market. Today’s Monday, so that’s basically the freshest you can get.”
“I see,” Kyouka muttered. She bit into another strawberry. They were definitely more flavorful than most she could find at the store, a pop of delight that made her lips curl with the sweetness of it all. “What about the case itself?”
“I’ll give you a rundown later, but for now, just enjoy. And give me a bite while you’re at it.”
She passed the crepe to Ranpo and he plucked a strawberry from the top, dipping it in some of the whipped cream. He swirled it around for a moment as he spoke.
“When you’re on the job, the most important thing is taking in the details in your immediate surroundings. Otherwise you’ll be too busy wondering about things that probably don’t even matter to see the clues right in front of you. Especially when an enemy could be around.”
He lifted the strawberry to his mouth when a sudden blur of gray jumped between them, snatching it right out of his hand.
Ranpo could only watch as Kyouka’s hand shot out. While he excelled in investigative work, she was more skilled in what followed—her instincts and reflexes were sharpened to deadly precision. Ranpo’s were certainly not.
The blur of grey squealed and began to chitter, and as her fingers curled around the scruff of its neck, she realized.
“It’s a raccoon.”
“Hey!” Ranpo whined. “That bastard stole my strawberry!”
She lowered the raccoon to the ground, where it dashed behind a nearby gingko tree and clutched the fruit in tiny black paws. It took quick bites like a creature starved, staring with wide black eyes and crouched as he guarded his winnings.
Ranpo, slack-jawed, could say nothing else.
“I guess an enemy was around,” Kyouka said.
It wasn’t until the raccoon swallowed the last bite, devouring even the leafy stem, that Ranpo unfroze. He scoffed when the raccoon smacked its lips and turned an offended expression to Kyouka.
His eyebrows pinched together, lips pursed to the side.
“If it’s that big of a deal,” she said, “I can give you another strawberry.”
Ranpo didn’t bother to hide his pout as he nodded.
She decided to choose a particularly beautiful strawberry to appease Ranpo with. Never had she expected to see the Agency’s star detective so bewildered, and certainly not over a stolen fruit. Kyouka imitated the little swirl Ranpo had used on his, making sure a generous dollop of cream was passed over.
The raccoon crept forward.
“Don’t you dare!” Ranpo cried as he pulled the berry to his mouth, biting down to the stem in one fell swoop. So much for taking your time to appreciate the flavor.
“That’s okay,” Kyouka said. She tossed a smaller berry forward and smiled when the raccoon sniffed curiously. “There’s more than enough to share.”
Ranpo grumbled as he chewed.
The raccoon crawled closer and took the strawberry between sharp little fangs. Kyouka and Ranpo watched in silence for a moment as its tail swished through the grass. She dropped another berry in front of her, and the raccoon, with the fruit still perched in his mouth, flicked his ears with interest. The raccoon dragged his gift towards himself with a clawed hand. Sitting up, two strawberries in tow, the beast nibbled with a bit more patience this time.
Ranpo narrowed his eyes. To soothe the sour taste of defeat (at the hands—paws?—of an animal, no less), he took another bite of his crepe. The taste of chocolate and hazelnut had him swaying again. Kyouka followed suit.
Soon the raccoon had finished his snack, and he chirped as he leaned forward, eyes big and sparkly.
“Maybe I shouldn’t be feeding a wild animal…” Kyouka muttered, fishing another berry out of the cream.
“He’s not wild,” Ranpo said, pulling his crepe closer to his chest. He didn’t like the look in the raccoon’s eyes. “He’s someone’s pet.”
“How do you know?”
“A wild animal wouldn’t be begging like that. It would just take what it wanted like before.”
The raccoon reached out to try and snatch a wafer from Ranpo’s crepe.
“Hey!” He held the crepe above his head, and the raccoon looked back to Kyouka, chirping indignantly.
“He acts a little wild with you,” Kyouka said. She tossed a strawberry a bit farther away to give the detective space to enjoy his snack. “But I’ve never seen a raccoon like this in Japan.”
“That’s because it’s an American raccoon. He’s definitely not here naturally, so someone must have brought him over. He’s a pet. Look how shiny his coat is… He’s spoiled.”
“Like you.” Kyouka tossed Ranpo a sideways glance.
“Whatever. He just knows he’s more likely to get strawberries from you by begging,” Ranpo grumbled, rolling his eyes.
“So he’s smart like you, too,” Kyouka added. She took a tiny strawberry and held it forward in small, steady hands. The raccoon leaned closer, sniffing at her fingertips before chirping happily and plopping down by her knees.
Ranpo seemed sated at the praise, even if it was technically for the raccoon, too.
The three sat in the sun together for a moment, the raccoon’s muzzle stained red as he chewed. Eventually, Ranpo finished his last bite and stretched his hands to the sky, flopping on his back and sighing.
“I wonder who he belongs to,” Kyouka mused. The raccoon was butting his head against her hand, catlike. He even purred.
Ranpo just opened his mouth to speak, when-
“Karl!” a frantic voice called from the distance. The raccoon perked up and darted towards the voice. “Karl, where are- Karl!”
The raccoon bounded into a man’s arms, who cried out as he pulled the raccoon into a hug. The man, pale and disheveled, buried his face into the raccoon’s fur.
“There you are, Karl,” he said. His voice wobbled. “I’ve never been so terrified. Never run away from me like that again! I thought you were lost forever, what were you-”
He stopped as his gaze met Ranpo’s. Ranpo laid in the grass, head tilted back to see who had so worriedly reunited with the raccoon. A tall man slouched beneath a dark cape, gray eyes catching green ones as he glimpsed through messy bangs.
“I deduce,” Ranpo said, slowly lifting a finger, “that the raccoon—Karl—belongs to this man right here.”
“Impressive,” Kyouka deadpanned.
The man, for some reason, was frozen in place, lips parted in a not-so-subtle expression of shock and terror. Ranpo frowned as he rolled over on the grass, swinging his feet and studying him.
˚⋆𓇼˚⊹ 𖦹 ⁺｡°
Out of all the people who could have possibly found Karl, why him?
Why Edogawa Ranpo, the very man Poe had traveled to Japan to eliminate?!
This had to be a nightmare. This couldn’t be happening. Ranpo was humming and kicking his feet, staring at him, picking him apart, and of course he’d recognize Poe. This threw off his entire plan, the rematch he’d been scheming for six years! What could he do?
He certainly couldn’t get his revenge here. He didn’t have the book he’d written so dutifully for him, and without that, what was the point? Not to mention the girl. If memory served correctly, this was the Kyouka Izumi, ex-assassin for the Port Mafia with 13 kills on record—he stood no chance.
“Are you alright?” she asked. Poe blinked, shoulders twitching up, realizing far too late that she was staring, too. Her voice was softer than he’d expected.
“Y-Yes,” he stuttered. “I apologize. I’m just relieved to have Karl back…” Poe clutched him closer to his chest and Karl sniffed his hair before finding a few locks to play with. “...Thank you for finding him. I was so worried.”
“That you were,” Ranpo said, and Poe whipped back to look at him. Oh, god. His gaze was utterly piercing, eyes far more green than he’d remembered. How was it fair that he had to thank the man he wanted so badly to destroy? Ranpo looked good, too. Peaceful. Sun-kissed skin and little freckles across his nose, dark hair tousled by the breeze. None of this was fair.
“I fed him some strawberries,” Kyouka admitted, holding the last one up. “I hope that’s okay.”
“I…” Poe furrowed his brow. Indeed, Karl’s mouth was stained red, his breath surprisingly sweet as he sniffed in Poe’s face and tugged on his hair to climb up. “Yes. Strawberries are his favorite fruit.” Kyouka exhaled in relief. “That was very kind of you.”
“I’m glad. I wanted to give him some whipped cream, too, but I wasn’t sure if it was safe for him.”
“Ah. A little bit won’t hurt. But you don’t have to-”
Karl leapt from his arms before Poe could object, chittering as Kyouka dipped the berry into the cream. As she fed him, a dab of whipped cream smeared on the raccoon’s nose and she smiled.
“He’s so cute,” she said. “I like the name Karl.”
Poe muttered a thank you, still watching Ranpo out of the corner of his eye.
The detective was grinning madly.
“Karl, huh?” he mused. “Well, I’m Ranpo Edogawa, world’s greatest detective.” I hate him, Poe thought. “And this is Kyouka.”
The detective hadn’t stopped staring. Is it really okay if I introduce myself? It’s not like Ranpo asked him to. Probably because he already knew. Poe swallowed, shrinking in on himself.
“What’s your name?” Kyouka asked.
The moment of truth. Or should he lie? No, such a thing was shameful, especially considering his plans for Ranpo. He was proud to bear the name of the man who would destroy Ranpo’s reputation.
“...Poe.”
Ranpo’s eyes flashed.
“Y’knowww,” he sang, and Poe sucked in a breath, holding it like it was all the air he had left.
Shit. He had to leave before-
“That raccoon of yours stole my food.”
Ah.
“Is that so?” Poe asked. Did he have to apologize for that? He really didn’t want to. Karl finished the last of his treat, licking the whipped cream off his nose. When he bounded back to Poe’s arms, he rewarded him with a scratch behind the ears. Good boy.
“Yup!” Ranpo said, and popped the ‘p’ dramatically. “But don’t worry. Out of the generosity of my heart, I’ll forgive him.”
Poe’s jaw tightened.
“How gracious,” he muttered through gritted teeth. “If there’s any way in which I can repay you…”
“Actually, there is,” Ranpo said.
I want you dead, he thought.
Poe smiled.
“What can I do for you?”
˚⋆𓇼˚⊹ 𖦹 ⁺｡°
“Three tickets, please!” Ranpo said, flashing a too-bright grin at the vendor. “Poe, you’re up.”
Poe and Kyouka stood silently behind him, staring dumbfounded at the ticket booth. Ranpo ushered him to the counter.
At least Poe wasn’t the only one confused. Kyouka, too, tilted her head curiously, brow furrowed.
“Ranpo, really?” Poe asked in a whisper, trying not to make eye contact with the unimpressed cashier. “What are we doing at the Dick Bruna exhibit?”
“Her name is Miffy,” Ranpo scoffed.
They were supposed to be investigating a case. That’s what Ranpo had said, at least, when he handed Poe the address on a scrap of paper, ordering him to navigate to the scene of what Poe assumed would be a crime.
“You can be my assistant for this investigation,” he’d teased.
Beyond all his wildest guesses, the address led to a museum pop-up exhibit featuring Miffy, the bunny character Kyouka carried on her cell phone (who was created by Dick Bruna, Poe wanted to point out, but the odds that Ranpo was just being an ass were too high).
Apparently he was taking too long to pay, because Ranpo rolled his eyes and elbowed him.
“C’mon, I know you can afford it,” he said, then loudly to the cashier: “Raccoons get in free, right?”
Poe retrieved his wallet as he tried to make sense of the detective’s choice.
There had never been a case—or at least, not one of the criminal variety. Ranpo was just treating Kyouka for the day. Crepes in the park, the Miffy museum exhibit… Poe would probably end up paying for a souvenir from the gift shop later.
“What kind of investigation is this?” Kyouka asked. She fiddled with the little bunny keychain on her phone, leaning forward to see the sign.
“The kind of investigation where you stop thinking about work for a day and just have fun,” Ranpo replied.
Kyouka blinked as the vendor passed three tickets over the counter. Poe bowed before passing one to Kyouka.
“But isn’t this stuff for kids?” she pinched the ticket between her fingers, seeming to look through it more than at it.
“You are a kid, Kyouka,” Ranpo said.
A rather atypical one, Poe thought. But a kid nonetheless. She had a kind heart, and Karl seemed to adore her—it wasn’t just the strawberries and cream. Kyouka was sweet by any standard.
“Either way, who cares?” Ranpo asked. “You like Miffy. So I decided to bring you here.”
Kyouka bit her lip and nodded, eyes shining.
“Thank you, Ranpo,” she said. “And you too, Poe-san.”
The honorific made him flush. This was supposed to be his enemy, and yet…
“Your thanks is unnecessary,” Poe muttered. “You kept Karl safe. If you weren’t there to feed him strawberries, who knows how far he could have gotten?”
“He would have gotten to the crepe stand,” Ranpo interjected, and the smile Poe returned was all clenched teeth and frustration. If it weren’t for Kyouka Izumi, he’d surely be throttling the man.
˚⋆𓇼˚⊹ 𖦹 ⁺｡°
Ironically, the museum exhibit was built to replicate the feeling of stepping into a storybook, each room progressing through the narrative of Miffy’s life. Home, school, the town square. There were games and puzzles strewn throughout free play centers and placards on the wall describing the history of the character.
Poe grinded his teeth. Why should Ranpo get to frolic in the lighthearted story of a bunny when he’d written something so much more appropriate for him? He should be in an inescapable world of devastation right now, not in a slice-of-life featuring bunnies. Still, it was hard to stay frustrated in such an environment. Poe hadn’t indulged in such frivolous things since he was a child himself. A lot of time had passed since then.
While the exhibit was certainly tailored towards younger children, Kyouka and Ranpo seemed to enjoy themselves. Kyouka busied herself with admiring the art and sensory displays. Ranpo, meanwhile, couldn’t stay still for more than a few moments, bouncing from activity to activity.
“These puzzles are so boring,” he groaned. “Kyouka, wanna race?”
“Ranpo, those are tricycles. You’re too big for those.”
“Boo, you’re just saying that because you know I’ll win!”
The entire time, Poe stuck to the corners, watching as the man he’d vowed to get revenge on played dress-up and colored crayon bunnies for Kyouka. Karl squirmed in his arms to get loose, eventually jumping to the ground where he knocked over wooden train sets and climbed every playset he could.
The absolute worst part was that Ranpo’s eyes never strayed far from Poe. He shot the writer smiles that looked innocent enough, but something in those hazel eyes sparkled, and oh, the detective was just devious. He absolutely knew that Poe knew that Ranpo knew he was an enemy, and Poe chewed at his nails each time Ranpo called him over.
“Do you need me for something?” Poe asked.
“Kyouka and I are having a drawing contest,” he said. “Sit here and model for us, okay?”
Poe’s face burned as he complied. I’m only doing this because I have to, he reminded himself. Soon I’ll get my revenge. He shifted as he stared ahead, lip wobbly.
“You’re so red,” Ranpo snickered as he swept a pink crayon over the cheeks of what was supposed to be Poe but looked more like an amorphous blob.
“Only because you’re teasing him,” Kyouka said, and Ranpo stuck his tongue out. Thank god someone is defending me. “But pass me the crayon when you’re done. I need to get the color right.” Never mind.
As expected, Ranpo insisted on visiting the gift shop.
“Pick anything you want, Kyouka,” he said. “Poe’s treat!”
How could Poe argue with that? He simply couldn’t. Besides, he was fond of the girl. She was subdued but sweet, and while she didn’t wear her heart on her sleeve like Ranpo, Poe could tell that her emotions ran deep, and at the center of her heart was an empathetic young girl who just wanted another chance at childhood.
Kyouka settled on a Miffy charm bracelet she could tuck beneath the sleeve of her Kimono. She held her hand up to the light, admiring how the little charms twinkled.
“That’s a fine choice,” Poe said. “It suits you.”
“I want this one!” Ranpo cried, smiling wide as he lifted up a large Miffy plush in fuzzy tulip pajamas. It came complete with a matching set in Ranpo’s size.
“You don’t think the stuffed animal is too big?” Poe asked. Miffy’s ears covered Ranpo’s face, and the detective had to crane his neck over them to respond.
“No way! It’s the perfect size for holding. See?”
Poe was about to reply when he winced at a sharp tug on his hair. He turned to see Karl scampering around his shoulders, holding a plush Miffy phone charm between his teeth—the same one Kyouka had.
“Really? You want something, too?” Poe sighed. “I suppose I have to buy it now that you’ve put it in your mouth.”
Karl chittered happily.
“But we’re cutting the strap off at home, it isn’t safe.”
At the till, Poe handed over his card. It felt weird to buy souvenirs for his enemies. But more than that... He was buying a plushie and pajamas for his rival, the rival currently nuzzling his face against the fabric, appreciating the soft texture. What cruel twist of fate got him here?
It wasn’t the money Poe cared about, but the principle of it all. Still, for the first time in a while, he felt something warm in his chest, something that buzzed down to his fingertips and made him breathe deep.
Today was all sorts of wrong. He’d somehow managed to dismantle six years of preparation for his perfect revenge. He’d treated the man he’d vowed to take down. Six years of obsessive planning and deep-seeded hatred, and here he was. Six years for what?
Ranpo was looking at him again, smile lopsided and hair messy. Against all his better instincts, Poe wanted to reach out and fix it, to smooth the hair down and find out if it was as silky as it looked.
Poe hated being wrong more than anything. So why was it that now, when his rival was beside him and beaming in a way that made Poe’s stomach flip, that things finally felt right?
He didn’t know.
But he wanted to find out.