Chapter Text
Kunikida's POV:
Kunikida was having a relatively good day. The sun was shining, a rare moment of peace gracing the Agency.
He had just finished writing his report on a recent case—one that had taken the Armed Detective Agency far longer to solve than expected, especially with Ranpo away on some mysterious errand that no one knew anything about. But now, the criminals were behind bars, and the victims’ families had a little closure.
A few minutes ago, he had yelled at his boyfriend, Dazai, for slacking off. Of course, at this point, he was never truly angry about it. It had become more of a routine, their back-and-forth banter injecting a sense of liveliness into his otherwise structured day.
Meanwhile, Yosano was threatening Atsushi for managing to lose a limb—again. The poor boy never seemed to catch a break, particularly when working alongside Akutagawa.
Kyouka and Kenji were out enjoying crepes, and, thankfully, there had been no news from the Tanizakis. That was usually a blessing—hearing from them tended to be worse than grading the exams of the less competent students he used to teach.
All in all, it was a normal day for the Agency.
And since there was no more pressing work, the President had dismissed them early, allowing everyone to enjoy the rare nice weather. To the Doppo poet this was a good day a normal one.
Dazai's POV:
Dazai was having a relatively bad day. The sun was too bright, burning into his tired eyes.
The ADA had wrapped up a case involving a group of serial killers targeting seventeen-year-olds. Technically, the Agency had solved it, but in reality, the credit belonged to Dazai, not that anyone knew it.
Well, except Ranpo of course . But as long as Dazai kept him supplied with sweets, the world’s greatest detective didn’t bother revealing to the others that their lazy, bandaged co-worker was actually one of the most intelligent people on the continent.
Dazai had teased Kunikida earlier, as he always did. Usually, their exchanges were a source of amusement, something to distract him from the dull ache inside. But today, it only left him feeling emptier.
He knew why. He had known for a long time. But confronting those thoughts and feelings was something he refused to do. It was easier to push them down, bury them with alcohol. Unfortunately, drowning himself in self-destruction had become much harder since getting into a relationship with Kunikida.
It wasn’t fair to use him as an emotional crutch. Dazai knew that. But he wasn’t a good person, no matter how much pretended to be.
So, despite the mental exhaustion gnawing at him, today was just another normal day for the former Demon Prodigy.
Fukuzawa's POV:
Fukuzawa was having an exhausting day.
He had allowed his employees to leave early, giving them the rest of the day off as a reward for their hard work. The case had been difficult, and there was still unfinished business to attend to but that was exactly why he had sent them away.
Because tonight, he had a meeting with an old friend turned enemy: Mori Ougai, leader of the Port Mafia.
A few weeks ago, Mori had reached out to him regarding a new organization making waves in Yokohama. One of his executives was already investigating the matter, and, surprisingly, Mori had even expressed frustration over the group’s presence. That alone was cause for concern.
It was no surprise, then, when Mori had requested that Fukuzawa send one of his own to gather information. That had been three weeks ago.
Now, Ranpo called every few days with updates. The group, known as The Feathers of Decay—FoD for short—was planning something big. And if what Ranpo had uncovered was correct, their next move could threaten the entire city.
For now, a temporary alliance between the ADA and the Port Mafia was inevitable.
Fukuzawa sighed. It was days like these that made leadership feel heavier than ever.