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The morning sun filtered lazily through the half-drawn blinds of the Armed Detective Agency’s office, casting long stripes of golden light across the polished floor. A gentle breeze from the open window fluttered a stack of poorly organized papers, which Kunikida immediately reached to catch—mid-yell.
"DAZAI! How many times have I told you not to use official case documents as origami paper?! Those are sensitive files! Why—why is this one folded into a crane?!"
Across the room, Dazai peeked up from his chaotic desk, a crooked paper crane hanging from his index finger like a prize.
“Ah, but Kunikida-kun,” he said, voice light and poetic, “you really should learn to appreciate the fleeting beauty of impermanence. This crane... it represents the inevitable tragedy of my life. A fragile, delicate creature doomed to fall.”
He gently placed the crane on top of a towering stack of untouched paperwork with theatrical flair.
Kunikida’s eye twitched like it was trying to escape his skull.
“Dazai, I swear to—!”
Ranpo, lounging lazily on the couch with his legs thrown over the armrest, noisily crunched on a stick of matcha Pocky.
“He’s not wrong, though,” Ranpo mumbled with a mouth full of crumbs. “That crane does look like it’s ready to give up on life. Real symbolic. Very ‘you.’”
“Ranpo-san,” Atsushi called hesitantly from across the room, already halfway buried in folders stacked like mini skyscrapers. “Aren’t you supposed to be helping me with the bank robbery case? We’re running out of time, and the client—”
“I already solved it like an hour ago,” Ranpo interrupted with a shrug, holding up a mystery manga as if that explained everything. “You just haven’t caught up yet. Oh, and they wore clown masks, by the way. Total amateurs. No sense of fashion.”
Atsushi blinked in confused horror. “Clown... masks?”
Meanwhile, Kenji stood cheerfully by the window, waving enthusiastically down at a group of pigeons on the ledge.
“They came back today!” he said with a big grin. “I think they really missed me! Or maybe it’s the breadcrumbs in my pocket. Either way, they’re nice company!”
On the opposite side of the room, Naomi was draped dramatically over Tanizaki’s arm while he desperately tried to focus on typing.
“Naomi, I—I really need to finish this report,” he said with a nervous laugh, pushing his laptop slightly farther away from her creeping hand. “It’s due by this afternoon, and Kunikida will—”
“But Juniiiii,” Naomi whined, pouting exaggeratedly, “you’re always working. You never spend fun time with me anymore. Don’t you love meee?”
Tanizaki flushed red. “O-Of course I do! That’s not what I—Naomi, not now!”
“Don’t encourage her,” Kunikida muttered from across the room, rubbing his temples.
And through it all, Yosano sat calmly at her desk in the far corner, sipping her tea in silence.
She had just returned from a long hospital rotation the day before—too many trauma cases, not enough rest, and far too much blood. But now she was back at the Agency, hoping, foolishly, for a calm morning.
Unfortunately, peace and quiet were outlawed here.
She sighed and pushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Her eyes scanned the room—Dazai lounging around like a cat in the sun, Kunikida already on his third breakdown, Ranpo doing absolutely nothing of value, Atsushi drowning in documents, Kyouka quietly petting a stray cat near the door, Tanizaki fighting off Naomi’s relentless affection, and Kenji... still waving at birds.
All perfectly normal. Which was the problem.
With a resigned breath, Yosano opened her desk drawer to grab a fresh notepad—but her fingers brushed against a familiar folder instead.
Her eyes narrowed.
The label read:
"Monthly Health Check Records – April", and stuck to the front was a bright yellow sticky note in her own handwriting:
"ALL members must complete by April 30. No excuses."
Yosano blinked slowly. Then she flipped the folder open.
First page: Kunikida Doppo – last checkup: March.
Next: Atsushi Nakajima – last checkup: February??
Dazai Osamu – last seen: January. With a scribbled “Refused to cooperate.”
Even Ranpo’s record had nothing but a doodle of a Pocky stick and a note in messy handwriting:
“I’m fine. Don’t touch me.”
“Oh?” Yosano smiled.
It was not a comforting smile.
She set her tea down, very gently. Then stood up with quiet precision and cracked her knuckles. “So that’s how it is, huh? I leave for two weeks, and suddenly everyone forgets how to book a health checkup?”
A low, eerie pressure filled the air like a storm cloud rolling in.
Across the room, Dazai suddenly froze. The hair on the back of his neck stood up.
“Wait a minute...” he said slowly. “Does anyone else feel that?”
Ranpo paused mid-bite, narrowed his eyes. “Yeah... The air just got heavy. Like a horror movie scene right before someone dies.”
Atsushi looked up from his files, eyes wide. “Is it just me or did it get... colder in here?”
Kyouka silently inched toward the exit.
Yosano turned to the room, clipboard in hand, smile sweet and terrifying.
“Everyone, please line up for your monthly health checkups. Right. Now.”
Kunikida choked on his own spit.
“W-Wait—Yosano-san! We’re in the middle of extremely important paperwork—!”
“You had the entire month of April to come see me,” she replied, voice calm as ever. “Now it’s May. And you know what that means.”
Naomi clutched Tanizaki’s arm tighter and whispered in horror, “Junii... She brought the needle bag...”
Kenji raised his hand enthusiastically. “But I feel great! I drank three glasses of milk this morning and didn’t even stub my toe!”
Yosano smiled even wider. “That’s cute. I’ll be the judge of that.”
Ranpo wordlessly slipped under a pile of couch cushions.
Kyouka had vanished from sight.
Dazai stood up abruptly and bolted toward the window like a man escaping war.
But it was too late.
“Dazai,” Yosano called with that signature cheer. “You’re first.”
Dazai screamed.
“NOOOO! KUNIKIDA-SAAAAAN, SAVE MEEEEE—!!”
Panic erupted.
Ranpo pretended to be dead. Kunikida backed away in horror. Naomi clung to Tanizaki like a koala. Kenji tried to climb into a potted plant. Kyouka was halfway down the stairs already. And Dazai... Dazai was caught by the collar mid-leap.
Yosano’s smile was soft as ever.
The chaos had officially begun.
The infirmary was supposed to be a place of healing, peace, and sterile calm.
Instead, it looked like the setting of a comedic hostage situation.
Eight detectives sat scattered across the room like a group of students in detention—except far more dramatic. Some were on the infirmary beds. Some sat on the floor like prisoners of war. One was hiding under a wheeled gurney.
And in the center of it all stood Yosano Akiko, with the grace of a nurse and the aura of a final boss.
How she had gathered them all into the infirmary without physically dragging them in was a mystery no one had solved yet. One second they were all running. The next, they were here.
“Where... am I?” Dazai blinked, looking around as if he’d just woken up from a coma. “Wasn’t I mid-jump out the window? I was sure I made it.”
“You hit the window frame and blacked out,” Kunikida muttered, rubbing his temple. “It was... very loud.”
“No I didn’t. I would’ve remembered that,” Dazai said confidently—despite the very visible bandage on his forehead.
Across the room, Ranpo sat on one of the infirmary beds, munching loudly on another box of snacks he definitely hadn’t been allowed to bring.
“I still say this is illegal,” he muttered through a mouthful of cookie. “We should call a lawyer.”
“You are the one who figured out the locked infirmary door had a retinal scanner hidden in the IV pole,” Atsushi pointed out.
Ranpo puffed out his chest. “Of course I did. I’m a genius. That doesn’t mean I agreed to be trapped in here afterward!”
Tanizaki sat stiffly in the corner, clearly trying to be invisible. Naomi sat beside him, braiding a garland of rubber gloves she’d found in a drawer.
Kenji cheerfully waved from the bed he’d made out of spare blankets. “This is kinda like a sleepover! Do we get snacks?”
“No,” Kunikida said instantly.
“Yes,” Yosano said sweetly from her desk, polishing what looked suspiciously like a very large syringe.
Kenji grinned. “Yay!”
Kyouka, ever the quiet observer, sat with her arms crossed near the wall. “We’re all going to die in here.”
Naomi nodded solemnly. “I’ve accepted it. Junii said he’d protect me with his body if it came to that.”
“I never said that—!” Tanizaki protested, already sweating.
Dazai had started whispering into a rubber glove like it was a secret communication device. “Echo Bravo to Headquarters. This is Osamu, trapped in enemy territory. The nurse has gone rogue. I repeat: THE NURSE HAS GONE ROGUE.”
“Stop talking into the glove,” Kunikida snapped. “No one is listening.”
“Not with that attitude,” Dazai sniffed.
Ranpo leaned over to whisper to Atsushi. “Okay, okay. I’ve got a plan. Listen close.”
Atsushi nodded. “Right.”
Ranpo shoved a lollipop in his mouth dramatically and whispered, “We riot.”
“...That's the plan?”
“It’s either that or faking a coma. I haven’t decided.”
Meanwhile, Kenji had started trying to chew through a gauze roll. “Do you think if I wrap enough of this around myself, she’ll think I’m already bandaged and let me go?”
“No,” Kunikida said again.
“Yes,” Yosano said from behind them.
Everyone jumped. She had teleported. Or maybe she’d just walked. It was hard to tell when her presence was that terrifying.
Yosano clapped her hands together, all smiles. “I’m so glad everyone’s comfortable. Please stay seated—or sedated, if you prefer—while I finish prepping the tools.”
Dazai immediately bolted toward the door. “RUN!”
He slammed into it with a loud thud. It didn’t budge.
“What the—?!” He started rattling the handle like a madman. “IT’S LOCKED?!”
Kunikida narrowed his eyes. “Did you seriously think she wouldn’t lock the door?”
Ranpo gave a dramatic sigh. “I told you all. She’s not just a doctor. She’s a strategist.”
Yosano hummed from the counter, sorting her tools like an artist prepping for a masterpiece. “I figured we could all do this the nice way. But if anyone tries to escape again, I’ll have to break out the... advanced methods.”
Naomi gasped. “You don’t mean...”
Yosano turned around, holding up a giant needle in one hand and a scalpel in the other. “I do.”
Tanizaki fainted on the spot.
Kenji cheered. “Cool! Do we get to watch?”
“No,” Kunikida said again.
“Yes,” Yosano said again.
Everyone groaned.
Dazai dramatically flopped to the floor. “Tell my nonexistent wife... I died a noble death...”
Kyouka side-eyed him. “You just fell over.”
Ranpo peeked under the bed. “Hey, Tanizaki fainted. Can I take his spot in line?”
“No,” Yosano said with a smile. “Dazai goes first.”
Dazai screamed again.
“Why is it always me?!”
Yosano winked. “Because you’re my favorite.”
Dazai stared in horror. “That’s the worst thing anyone’s ever said to me.”
“Just wait until the checkup,” she replied sweetly.
Across the room, Kunikida pulled out his notebook and muttered, “I need a new job.”
Dazai vs. The Checkup
The room had gone oddly quiet.
Well, not quiet, exactly. More like... the tense silence before a volcano erupts.
Everyone—Ranpo, Kunikida, Kenji, Kyouka, Tanizaki, Naomi, and Atsushi—was seated like an audience in a very illegal operating theater, watching Dazai reluctantly clamber up onto the infirmary bed like it was his execution platform.
Yosano stood beside the bed, clipboard in hand, surgical gloves snapped on, and a look on her face that could only be described as playful menace.
“Don’t worry, Dazai,” she cooed. “This won’t hurt... me at all.”
Dazai let out a dry laugh. “Hilarious. I love a doctor with a sense of humor. But I think there’s been a mistake. I’m actually exempt from health checks. Medical mystery, you know?”
Yosano tilted her head. “That so?”
“Yes. Fragile. Delicate. Might die if you even touch me, really.”
Yosano leaned in slowly. “Then let’s test that theory, shall we?”
The others watched intently from the sidelines like kids watching a horror movie, popcorn-less but highly entertained.
Kunikida crossed his arms. “This is what he gets for always skipping his checkups.”
Kenji blinked innocently. “Why does Dazai-san look like he’s going to cry?”
Ranpo slurped noisily on his fourth lollipop. “Because he probably is.”
Yosano pulled up a rolling tray of tools beside the bed, each one gleaming under the bright infirmary lights. She smiled sweetly at Dazai.
He recoiled. “What—what are all those for?! That’s a hammer! Why do you have a hammer?!”
“Relax. It’s for checking reflexes,” she said, tapping the side of his knee with it.
His leg kicked straight into the air and nearly hit Atsushi in the face.
“Reflexes look good,” Yosano said brightly. “Now hold still. Blood pressure next.”
She wrapped the cuff around his arm and inflated it with a calm hum, while Dazai gave the rest of the Agency a help me look.
“You can still surrender,” Kunikida offered dryly.
“I’d rather die,” Dazai muttered.
“Don’t tempt me,” Yosano said with a smile.
The cuff beeped. Yosano frowned. “…That can’t be right.”
“What? What is it?” Dazai craned his neck nervously.
“Your blood pressure is either that of a corpse or a very caffeinated ghost.”
She took it again. Then once more.
Each time, the numbers just got weirder.
“Okay. Let’s try your sugar level next.”
“Do you have to?” Dazai whined.
“Absolutely.”
He shrieked dramatically when she pricked his finger. “She’s draining my soul!”
“It’s a single drop of blood, calm down,” Yosano deadpanned.
The machine beeped again. She blinked. “What the hell...”
“Another ghost reading?” Ranpo called.
Yosano looked up, disturbed. “His sugar levels are so low it’s like he runs entirely on spite.”
“...That actually explains a lot,” Kunikida said, taking notes.
Yosano ticked something off on her clipboard, then tapped her pen against her lip. “Alright, Dazai. I’ll need a blood sample. That means the bandages come off.”
Dazai froze. “Excuse me?”
“Your arm. I need a vein.”
“…I don’t have any.”
“Dazai.”
“You can’t prove that.”
She gave him a look.
Dazai looked away. “Fine. But just a little.”
He very reluctantly unwrapped a small section of his forearm, revealing a patch of pale skin with an old, thin scar peeking just beneath the surface. His eyes flicked up to Yosano's face—half-defensive, half-daring her to comment.
She didn’t.
Yosano’s gaze paused on the scar just for a moment. Her smile faded a little, softening into something unreadable. Then, with a gentle precision that surprised even Dazai, she swabbed the area and inserted the needle without a word.
Dazai blinked. He didn’t flinch, didn’t speak.
Neither did she.
For the first time all day, the room went completely silent.
Once the vial filled, Yosano quietly removed the needle and taped over the area. She wrapped the bandage tighter than necessary—but not unkindly—and set the sample aside.
The moment passed.
And then—beep.
Yosano turned back to her computer and scanned through Dazai’s vitals as the results came in.
Her frown deepened.
“…This can’t be right.”
She pulled up another chart. Then another.
“His iron levels are terrible. His blood sugar’s in the negatives somehow. His oxygen saturation is 89. His BMI is—Dazai, what are you eating? Air?”
“Air and sadness,” Dazai said helpfully. “Balanced diet.”
Yosano turned to him, eyes wide. “How are you even alive?!”
“Magic,” Dazai said with a shrug. “Or spite, like you said.”
“Spite doesn’t explain your heartbeat sounding like a jazz drum solo.”
“Art is subjective.”
“I’m genuinely impressed you’re standing upright.”
“I’m lying down, actually.”
“Still counts.”
Yosano turned to the rest of the room with a haunted expression. “Everything in his file is wrong. Every number is a warning sign. I think I just diagnosed a walking miracle. Or a walking disaster.”
“Both,” Kunikida muttered.
“I vote disaster,” Ranpo called.
“Dazai-san, you should eat more,” Kenji added helpfully.
“I do!” Dazai lied immediately.
Naomi raised a brow. “Since when?”
Dazai put a hand to his chest dramatically. “My habits are none of your concern, woman.”
“Okay but I’m literally concerned,” Atsushi said, his face pale.
Yosano sighed and started typing up the report. “You’re not getting away with skipping checkups anymore. I’m writing this in bold, red ink, and printing it ten times.”
Dazai slumped back against the pillow. “…I’ve never felt so attacked.”
“And you will be again,” Yosano promised cheerfully. “Next!”
The rest of the Agency tensed.
Ranpo immediately tried to crawl out the window. Kenji handed Dazai a juice box out of sympathy. Naomi ducked behind her brother, who tried to hide behind Kunikida, who was already attempting to unlock the door with brute force.
Yosano cracked her knuckles.
“Who’s next?” she asked sweetly.
Chaos resumed.
Kunikida’s Breakdown
The moment Dazai slid off the infirmary bed looking like he’d just escaped a war zone, all eyes turned to Kunikida.
He stood stiffly in the corner, arms crossed, jaw tight.
“No,” he said immediately.
Yosano smiled. “Yes.”
“I’m not doing this.”
“You are.”
“I am not your next victim.”
“Oh, come now. You’re the one who always talks about discipline and routine, aren’t you?” Yosano said sweetly, flipping a page on her clipboard. “Surely a man of structure has nothing to fear.”
Kunikida adjusted his glasses sharply. “Exactly. My checkup will be smooth, quick, and problem-free. I have a precisely balanced diet, daily exercise, mental health journaling, and I floss.”
“Show off,” Dazai muttered from where he was dramatically draped over a chair.
Kunikida began striding toward the door. “And since I know I’m perfectly fine, I’ll be leaving now.”
Click.
Everyone looked as the door refused to budge.
“…You locked the door,” Kunikida said flatly.
“Yes,” Yosano said, not looking up.
He turned back to her slowly. “That is a violation of basic human rights.”
“You’d be surprised how often I hear that.”
Kunikida’s jaw clenched as he took the bed like a man preparing for a root canal. “Fine. Let’s get this over with. Efficiently.”
The others leaned in like theater-goers. Ranpo had stolen Naomi’s popcorn. Naomi hadn’t noticed because she was too busy filming on her phone.
Yosano began with the basics: height, weight, vision test.
“Hmm. 20/20 vision,” she muttered. “That explains the glaring.”
“It’s called discipline,” Kunikida replied stiffly.
Next, she moved to heart rate and oxygen levels.
“Heart rate: steady. Oxygen: perfect.”
“Of course.”
“BMI in ideal range. Cholesterol normal. No anemia. You’re… actually healthy.”
Kunikida allowed himself a smug little nod. “Naturally. I’ve followed the same morning routine for the past twelve years. Never missed a vitamin.”
Yosano checked off several boxes with faint amusement. “You might be the first person here who isn’t actively dying.”
“See? I told you—”
Beep.
She looked at the final line of the report.
Kunikida frowned. “What is it?”
“Your blood pressure.”
“…What about it?”
“It’s… uh.” She hesitated. “Do you want the number or the medical term?”
“I want the facts.”
Yosano turned the monitor to face him.
Kunikida stared. “That can’t be right.”
“That’s what Dazai said. And yet.”
“That number belongs to someone about to have a heart attack!”
Yosano nodded. “Yep.”
“I meditate every morning!”
“Do you meditate while reading Dazai’s mission reports?”
Kunikida opened his mouth—then closed it.
The others exploded into laughter.
Dazai perked up. “Aw, is my existence raising your blood pressure, Kunikida-kun?”
“You are the sole cause of every spike!”
“Flattered.”
“I will throw you out the window!”
Kunikida leapt up from the bed, yanking off the blood pressure cuff with the energy of a man betrayed by his own body. “This machine is defective! Or cursed! Or hacked!”
Yosano calmly reattached it. “Sit down. We’re testing again.”
“No. This is unjust. Unacceptable. I want a second opinion.”
“I am the second opinion,” Yosano said flatly.
Ranpo leaned over to Atsushi. “He’s going to combust.”
Atsushi nodded. “We should probably sedate him.”
Kunikida took a deep breath and sat down again like a ticking bomb. The second reading came in.
Still high.
He was silent for five long seconds.
Then: “This is Dazai’s fault.”
Yosano raised an eyebrow. “Would you like a list of stress reduction techniques?”
“I wrote that list.”
“Well, clearly it’s not working.”
Kunikida looked like he was going to scream into a pillow. “Fine. What do I do?”
Yosano grinned. “Relax more.”
Kunikida stared at her. “Define ‘relax.’”
“Take naps. Deep breathing. Eat sweets sometimes. Read a book with no intellectual value. You know, act like a human being instead of a productivity app.”
Dazai gasped. “Did you just tell him to commit crimes?”
Kenji clapped politely. “Yay! Kunikida-san’s checkup is done!”
“Congratulations on being 99% healthy,” Ranpo added. “And 1% rage.”
Kunikida adjusted his glasses and stood up stiffly. “At least I don’t run on trauma and caffeine.”
“Don’t knock it till you try it,” Dazai sang.
As Kunikida stomped back to his corner, Yosano scribbled something dramatic in red ink on his chart. Likely: "Warning: Approaching Explosion. Recommend yoga."
She turned to the others, cracking her knuckles again.
“Next?”
Everyone immediately looked at the floor, the ceiling, their shoes, the walls—anything but her face.
“Eenie… meenie… Ranpo.”
Ranpo immediately rolled off the chair and pretended to die. “You’ll never take me alive.”
Yosano grinned. “We’ll see.”
Ranpo’s Candy Catastrophe
The room fell quiet as Yosano loomed over Ranpo, clipboard in one hand, the other gloved ominously.
Ranpo, to his credit, was already halfway out the window.
“You know this is illegal!” he shouted dramatically, gripping the window frame like a man being dragged to his doom.
“No, it’s medical care,” Yosano corrected, already grabbing the back of his coat and yanking him down like he weighed nothing. “Get on the bed.”
“I’m a detective, not a patient! I solve mysteries, I don’t become one!”
“You’re about to be both.”
Yosano shoved him onto the infirmary bed, and the others winced in sympathy—though none dared interfere. Not after what she did to Dazai. And definitely not after the blood pressure reveal.
Ranpo flailed dramatically on the mattress like a dying fish. “Let me goooo! I’ll tell the president! I’ll tell the government! I’ll tell my lawyer! I—hey!!”
Yosano pulled open the inner lining of his coat.
And paused.
“…Why do you have eight hidden pockets?”
Kunikida squinted. “Wait. I designed that coat.”
“Betrayal!” Ranpo hissed.
Yosano reached into the first pocket and pulled out—
A lollipop.
Then another.
And another.
A chocolate bar. Two packs of strawberry Pocky. An entire sleeve of cookies. Three sour gummies. A handful of caramels. One very suspicious looking marshmallow.
By the time she was done, a pile of sugar stood neatly stacked on the table beside the bed. The Agency looked on in awe.
Naomi leaned toward Tanizaki. “How is he not diabetic?”
“Honestly, I’m starting to think he’s not human,” Tanizaki whispered back.
“I heard that!” Ranpo huffed, attempting to roll off the bed—but Yosano pushed him back down like he was a child refusing nap time.
As she reached for the clipboard, one stray candy rolled off the table.
Yosano bent down to pick it up.
Paused.
Frowned.
“Why is there a tail under the bed?”
She reached underneath.
A muffled yelp.
The room blinked.
Yosano dragged out Atsushi by the back of his hoodie like a mother cat carrying her misbehaving kitten.
“I knew someone was too quiet,” she muttered, hoisting him up effortlessly.
“I was never here,” Atsushi said weakly.
“Don’t worry,” Yosano said, tossing him across the room with perfect aim. “Dazai, catch.”
“Wait, what—?”
Thud.
Dazai caught him one-handed and toppled backward like a beanbag.
“I regret living,” Atsushi muttered into his chest.
“You get used to it,” Dazai said solemnly.
Yosano turned back to her original victim. “Now. Where were we?”
Ranpo had somehow tied the bedsheets into a rope and was mid-swing toward the cabinet.
“Nooo!!”
She grabbed the sheet mid-air and yanked.
Ranpo flopped back onto the bed, groaning like a ghost. “This is a war crime.”
“You haven’t even gotten the thermometer yet.”
“I bite.”
Yosano simply popped a strawberry candy into his mouth.
Ranpo blinked. “...Bribery.”
“Effective.”
She slid on her gloves again, and the thermometer was in before he could protest. Ranpo scowled like a betrayed toddler.
“I want a nurse with less violence.”
“Good luck finding one.”
She began the routine: pulse, vision test, reflexes.
“Pulse is fast.”
“I’m panicking!”
“Vision is 20/20.”
“Of course. I’m a genius.”
“Reflexes are twitchy.”
“I thought you were gonna stab me!!”
Yosano paused. “That’s… fair.”
Ranpo crossed his arms dramatically, chewing his candy like it was a pacifier.
Then came the blood pressure cuff.
Yosano narrowed her eyes at the reading.
“Huh.”
Ranpo perked up. “’Huh’? What’s ‘huh’ supposed to mean?”
“Your blood pressure is weird. A little unstable.”
“Define ‘weird’.”
“Define ‘candy diet’,” Yosano shot back.
Ranpo frowned, biting his lollipop harder. “This is slander.”
She wrote something on the clipboard. “If you keep this up, you’re gonna give yourself diabetes. You’re not immortal.”
“I might be,” he muttered.
“Ranpo.”
“…Fine.”
Finally, she pulled out the needle for the blood test.
“Nope. No. Noooo. Absolutely not. I don’t even have blood. I run on candy and spite.”
Yosano raised an eyebrow. “Oh really?”
“Candy. Spite. And a sprinkle of childhood trauma. That’s all.”
She moved in.
Ranpo bolted.
Yosano clicked her tongue. “Naomi, if you’d do the honors?”
Naomi stepped forward and simply… sat on Ranpo’s legs.
“BETRAYED AGAIN!!”
Dazai gave a mock salute from across the room. “Rest in pieces, my friend.”
As Yosano finally took the blood sample, Ranpo slumped dramatically onto the pillow.
“Tell Fukuzawa I died bravely.”
“You’re fine,” Yosano said, already labeling the vial.
“I want compensation.”
“I gave you a lollipop.”
“I want more compensation.”
“I’ll let you escape first next time.”
“Deal.”
Yosano rolled her eyes and turned to the clipboard.
“Ranpo Edogawa. Physically healthy. Mentally feral. Possibly immortal. Unstable blood pressure. Extremely high sugar intake. High risk of diabetes.”
She looked at the remaining Agency members.
“Who’s next?”
Everyone immediately pointed at Kenji.
Kenji’s Turn
As Yosano finished scribbling Ranpo’s stats, the room was still recovering from the chaos.
Then—
“I wanna go next!!” Kenji raised his hand cheerfully, practically bouncing off the ground like an eager puppy.
Everyone blinked.
“…Are you okay?” Tanizaki asked cautiously.
“I love checkups!” Kenji chirped. “Back in the countryside, we always had to do self-checks with cows and pigs and all! Medical stuff is so fun!”
The room collectively leaned away.
Yosano smiled, genuinely pleased. “Now that’s the spirit. Come here, Kenji.”
He marched to the bed like he was getting a trophy. “Will there be needles?”
“Yes.”
“Yay!”
The Agency stared in horror.
Atsushi, now seated beside Dazai and still recovering from being yeeted across the room, looked deeply disturbed. “Why is he excited…?”
Dazai leaned close. “Because he’s not normal, Atsushi-kun.”
“I thought I was the weird one,” Atsushi whispered.
“You’re just sad. He’s terrifying.”
Meanwhile, Yosano had Kenji seated on the bed, swinging his legs like a happy kindergartener.
She checked his temperature.
Perfect.
Heart rate?
Perfect.
Reflexes?
Perfect.
“I poked my eye with a straw once!” Kenji announced proudly. “But it healed right away.”
“…Of course it did,” Yosano muttered.
She tested his blood pressure.
It was so good, the monitor beeped cheerfully like even it was impressed.
“…You’re… shockingly healthy,” she said.
Kenji beamed. “I drink milk every day and chase goats uphill!”
“…Sure,” Yosano nodded slowly.
Ranpo, still half-draped on the bed beside them, squinted at the screen. “Wait, his blood pressure is better than mine??”
“It’s better than all of yours,” Yosano confirmed.
Tanizaki groaned. “Even Kunikida?”
Kunikida bristled. “Hey!”
“Only thing wrong with Kunikida is his anger levels,” Dazai added.
“Because of YOU!!”
Naomi pointed dramatically. “He’s the youngest, and he’s the healthiest??”
Kenji smiled, completely unaware of the brewing salt levels. “Isn’t that neat?”
Atsushi leaned toward Dazai. “How is he so strong and healthy?”
“Country boy energy. You wouldn’t get it.”
Yosano nodded as she wrote in her notes. “No signs of any deficiencies. Bone density is strong. Blood pressure optimal. Vision’s perfect. Heartbeat calm and steady. Kenji, you might actually be indestructible.”
Kenji’s smile somehow grew brighter. “Aw, thank you! That’s the nicest thing a doctor’s ever said to me!”
Yosano chuckled. “You’re my easiest patient today.”
And that’s when everyone snapped.
“WHAT?!” Dazai leapt to his feet.
“You didn’t threaten him once!” Naomi pouted.
“He didn’t even flinch at the needle!” Atsushi added.
“He got a genuine smile!” Ranpo pointed accusingly.
“You called him EASY!” Kunikida barked, “Where was that energy when I was getting strangled by the blood pressure cuff?!”
“You all whined like babies,” Yosano said coolly, filing Kenji’s results.
Kenji hopped off the bed. “Do I get candy?”
She handed him three.
The others looked like they might riot.
Kenji walked back to the group happily munching on his candy, completely oblivious to the murderous stares.
Tanizaki whispered, “He scares me more than Dazai sometimes.”
“I heard that!” Kenji said cheerfully.
Dazai sighed. “He’s like a ray of sunshine I want to hide from.”
Yosano closed her clipboard. “Alright. Who’s next?”
A beat of silence.
Then all heads turned.
To Naomi.
She blinked.
“Why me?!”
“You’ve been pointing at people all day,” Yosano said sweetly. “Your turn.”
Naomi groaned. “Ranpo, save me.”
Ranpo tucked himself under a blanket. “I’m still in mourning.”
Naomi vs. Yosano
Naomi tried to slip behind Atsushi, hiding in the crowd like a civilian at a war zone.
Yosano's eyes locked onto her like a hawk spotting prey.
“You’re up.”
Naomi straightened slowly. “No. I’m not.”
“Yes, you are.”
“I’m not even a detective!” Naomi protested, pointing at everyone. “I’m not technically Agency staff! I just like annoying Tanizaki and sitting in the office because it has free coffee!”
A long silence.
Yosano blinked. “Huh.”
Naomi perked up. “So I can go?”
She was already halfway back to the couch when—
“No.”
Naomi froze. “Why not?!”
Yosano’s smile sharpened like a blade. “Because I feel like it.”
Tanizaki started panicking. “Yosano-san, she’s not even—”
“She has lungs, doesn’t she?”
“What does that have to do with anything?!”
“She can suffer, can’t she?”
Naomi screamed internally.
“I think I left the oven on,” she tried. “In the office.”
“We don’t have an oven.”
“I think I left Tanizaki on,” she tried again.
“…What does that even—never mind, get on the bed.”
“I hate this place,” Naomi muttered as she flopped dramatically onto the check-up bed like a princess being forced to do taxes.
“I’ll be gentle,” Yosano said, holding up a thermometer with the same expression one might use to say, “Time to die.”
Meanwhile, the others watched with the same horrified awe usually reserved for horror movies.
“This is so unnecessary,” Naomi complained as the thermometer beeped in her mouth.
“You know what else is unnecessary? Your voice,” Yosano replied sweetly.
Naomi gasped.
Tanizaki gasped louder.
Dazai clapped. “Ohh, BURN!”
Kunikida adjusted his glasses. “Honestly, she walked right into that one.”
The thermometer beeped.
“Normal,” Yosano muttered. “Too bad.”
“Am I done?”
“No.”
Naomi blinked. “But I passed!”
“I'm still not emotionally satisfied.”
Naomi slowly looked toward Tanizaki like a hostage. “You’re just going to stand there?!”
Tanizaki looked between her and Yosano… and wisely said nothing.
Coward.
Yosano moved onto blood pressure, strapping the cuff around Naomi’s arm.
“Ow—too tight!”
“You’ll live.”
“No, I won’t. My arm’s being crushed.”
“I haven’t even turned it on yet.”
“…Still hurts.”
When the results beeped, Yosano raised an eyebrow.
“Blood pressure’s normal,” she admitted.
Naomi grinned. “See? I’m full of peace and beauty.”
“Emotionally unstable,” Yosano wrote in her notes.
“Hey!”
Ranpo leaned over from the next bed. “She does scream a lot.”
Atsushi nodded. “She also tried to push me under the bed when Yosano came in.”
“Traitor!” Naomi yelled.
Yosano took out her pen. “Stress levels high. Social behavior: Gremlin-like.”
“I’M TELLING MOM!”
“She’s not your real mom.”
“YOU DON’T KNOW THAT!”
“Okay, okay,” Yosano chuckled, finally putting her tools down. “You’re done.”
Naomi bolted back to her seat faster than Kenji chasing a goat.
Tanizaki tried to pat her shoulder but she smacked his hand away. “You betrayed me by standing still.”
“You’ll get over it.”
“I won’t. I’m writing about this in my diary.”
Dazai snickered. “Can I read it?”
“No.”
“Can Atsushi?”
“No!”
Atsushi looked relieved.
Kenji cheerfully handed Naomi a piece of candy. “You were very brave!”
“I screamed the whole time.”
“Still brave!”
Naomi chewed on the candy in silence, glaring at the ceiling with the bitterness of a war veteran.
Yosano closed her clipboard again.
“Alright. Tanizaki. Your girlfriend went first. Your turn.”
Tanizaki went pale.
Tanizaki in Trouble
The room went quiet.
Yosano’s eyes glittered as she slowly turned to Tanizaki.
“Your turn.”
Tanizaki gulped.
Naomi’s head snapped up. “Oh yes. YES. Take him.”
Tanizaki didn’t even get a chance to stand. Yosano was already beside him, one hand on his shoulder, the other gripping a clipboard like a weapon forged from paperwork and spite.
“I don’t think I need one,” Tanizaki tried weakly. “I-I mean, I feel fine—really healthy actually—”
“Oh no. We’re way past the point of feelings.”
Dazai leaned toward Atsushi. “Do you think he’ll cry?”
“He might,” Atsushi whispered.
Ranpo was munching on stolen candy. “I give him three minutes before he begs.”
Tanizaki looked at Naomi, hoping for mercy.
She folded her arms. “Have fun. I’m praying for you.”
“You don’t even pray!”
“Exactly.”
He was guided—no, dragged—to the infirmary bed, looking like a man walking toward the gallows.
“I’m honestly a pretty average guy,” he said as Yosano strapped the blood pressure cuff to his arm. “My ability isn’t even that destructive. I don't fight that much. I don't even get sick!”
“Mmm,” Yosano said like a villain pretending to care. “Average, huh? We’ll see.”
The cuff beeped.
Yosano blinked.
“…Huh.”
Tanizaki tensed. “W-What is it?”
“Your blood pressure is abnormally high.”
Tanizaki paled. “WHAT?! WHY?!”
“Could be stress. Or fear. Or guilt.”
“GUILT?!”
Naomi shouted from the seats, “He once ate my pudding and blamed it on Atsushi!”
“I knew it!” Atsushi cried.
Ranpo gasped. “Criminal.”
“THAT WAS 3 MONTHS AGO!”
Yosano wrote something in her notes. “Possible criminal record.”
“I AM NOT A CRIMINAL—!”
“Let’s check your heartbeat next,” Yosano said sweetly, like she was about to perform open-heart surgery with no anesthesia.
She stuck the stethoscope to his chest.
Tanizaki’s face turned red. “C-Cold!”
“Still not as cold as your soul,” she muttered, adjusting it.
“I CAN HEAR YOU.”
Dazai whispered, “He’s gonna pass out.”
“I hope not,” Kunikida muttered. “That would make it my problem.”
Yosano straightened. “Heartbeat: elevated. Possibly irregular.”
“WHY IS EVERYTHING WRONG WITH ME?!”
Yosano smiled. “That’s what I’m trying to figure out.”
“I drink water! I sleep—sometimes! I walk Naomi’s cat!”
“You don’t have a cat,” Naomi called out.
“THEN WHOSE CAT WAS THAT?!”
Yosano was already prepping the glucose test.
Tanizaki started inching away.
She inched closer.
He inched further.
She inched faster.
He panicked. “PLEASE! I CAN DO IT MYSELF! I’LL STAB MY OWN FINGER—!”
Naomi smirked. “No, no, you had your chance.”
Yosano stabbed.
“OW! WHY DID THAT FEEL PERSONAL?!”
“Because it was.”
She read the results.
“…Okay, sugar levels are surprisingly normal.”
Tanizaki looked like a man who had just been pulled from the depths of a stormy ocean.
“…Can I go now?”
Yosano tilted her head. “Hmm. I could let you go.”
Tanizaki sighed in relief.
“But,” she added cheerfully, “I did see some suspicious shakiness. Maybe we should do a neuro test just in case.”
Tanizaki screamed.
Atsushi and the Vanishing Kyouka
Atsushi had been watching everyone else get destroyed—gently or otherwise—by Yosano, and the anxiety was eating him alive.
He kept fidgeting.
Adjusting his sleeves.
Tapping his foot.
Whispering, “Maybe I’ll be fine. I mean, I eat decent food. Kunikida makes sure. I don’t think I’m dying. Probably.”
Yosano turned toward him slowly.
He flinched so hard he nearly fell off the bed.
“Atsushi,” she said sweetly.
He squeaked. “Yes?!”
“Your turn.”
“No, no, no—I don’t mind waiting! You can go alphabetically! ‘A’ is too obvious. Go backwards! Naomi starts with ‘N’!”
“She’s not even a real detective,” Yosano said, dragging a chair beside him.
“She’s real to me,” he whispered.
Yosano held up the thermometer.
Atsushi stared at it like it was a knife.
“Open,” she said.
He obeyed like she was a dentist and he’d forgotten to brush for three years.
Beep.
Yosano checked it.
She frowned.
Atsushi panicked. “What?! WHAT?! WHAT IS IT?!”
“You’re… overheating.”
“I knew it! I’m going to die!”
“No. You’re just severely anxious.”
“Oh.”
Everyone else nodded in agreement.
“That checks out,” said Ranpo.
“Textbook Atsushi,” added Dazai.
“He always looks like a kicked puppy,” Kenji said kindly.
Atsushi drooped. “This is bullying.”
Yosano pulled out the blood pressure monitor. “Relax. It’s just a standard check.”
Atsushi turned pale. “My blood pressure’s gonna explode. I can feel it.”
Yosano raised a brow. “Stop clenching your jaw like that, you’ll give yourself TMJ.”
“I don’t even know what that is!”
Dazai whistled. “It’s real, and you will not enjoy it.”
Atsushi braced himself.
Beep.
Yosano sighed. “Elevated. Again. You’re basically vibrating.”
“I am vibrating!”
Then, mid-heart-monitoring, Atsushi froze. “Wait. Where’s Kyouka?”
Everyone turned.
The desk Kyouka had been sitting at was now… empty.
Naomi blinked. “Did she leave?”
Tanizaki looked around. “Wasn’t she here earlier?”
Atsushi stood. “She was! She was sitting quietly the whole time, like a little… ghost. But I haven’t heard her talk once.”
Kenji gasped. “Maybe she became a ghost!”
“DON’T SAY THAT!”
Suddenly Atsushi made a break for the door.
Yosano grabbed him by the back of his collar like a misbehaving cat.
“You’re still being examined.”
“But I have to find her!”
“Good. I’m coming with you.”
Dazai stood up. “No need. I see something weird under that desk.”
He crouched slowly, peering under.
“Kyouka?”
Nothing.
He ducked further in.
“...Kyouka?”
Silence.
He slid his hand under.
It touched a tiny shoe.
“FOUND HER!”
He pulled back, revealing Kyouka curled like a rock under the desk, her kimono drawn up like armor. She was completely still, arms wrapped around her knees.
She blinked slowly, like a cat caught stealing food.
Everyone stared.
Dazai raised a brow. “You were here this whole time?”
She nodded.
Ranpo was impressed. “She’s got a talent.”
Kunikida pinched the bridge of his nose. “How did no one notice a person under the desk?”
“She’s smol,” Naomi offered.
Kyouka remained blank-faced. “I didn’t want to be poked.”
Yosano approached slowly. “Don’t worry. You’re next. And you get to share a check-up with Atsushi.”
Atsushi paled. “W-We’re doing this together?!”
“You hid together, you get poked together.”
Now the two of them sat side by side on the infirmary bed, like two children waiting to be scolded.
Kyouka was utterly calm.
Atsushi was shaking.
“I’m supposed to be older,” he muttered.
“Doesn’t feel like it,” said Ranpo.
Yosano began the check-up. She started with Kyouka.
Heart rate: Normal.
Blood pressure: Perfect.
Sugar levels: Excellent.
Vision: 20/20.
Yosano stared at the results. “You’re completely healthy.”
Everyone in the room blinked.
“You’re healthier than Kenji,” Dazai said.
“I grew up on train bento,” she mumbled.
Then came Atsushi again.
Blood pressure: High.
Heartbeat: Racing.
Sugar: Slightly low.
Eye bags: Unholy.
Yosano scribbled in her notes. “So, conclusion: You’re held together by guilt and anxiety.”
“I knew it!”
Kyouka looked at him blankly. “You’re very dramatic.”
“I’m dying, Kyouka.”
“You have a vitamin D deficiency, not a death sentence.”
Yosano nodded. “It’s true.”
Atsushi clutched his chest. “It still feels like one.”
We’re Not Leaving
click
The metallic sound of the lock echoed softly as Yosano unlocked the infirmary door. She didn’t even glance at the group behind her as she walked back to her desk, clipboard in hand.
“There. You’re all free to leave,” she said flatly, taking a seat and beginning to type up notes from the checkups. “Go make chaos somewhere else.”
Not a single footstep followed.
The open door sat there, inviting freedom. Yet no one moved.
Atsushi blinked, glancing at the others. “Uh… she said we can go.”
“Did she really mean it though?” Tanizaki whispered.
Ranpo rolled over on the bed, candy still in his mouth. “I dunno. I kinda like it here.”
“Same,” Naomi said, crossing her arms. “It’s cozy.”
“I think it smells like a hospital,” Kunikida muttered, but sat down anyway.
Kenji was already sitting on the floor like a sunflower sprouted in the middle of a battlefield. “I like being here! It’s warm. And there’s snacks.”
Kyouka quietly settled next to Atsushi without saying anything. Her expression was unreadable, but she looked content. Maybe even a little sleepy.
Dazai made no effort to move. In fact, he had draped himself dramatically across one of the infirmary beds. “Leaving? In this economy?”
Kunikida sighed, sitting down in one of the stiff infirmary chairs like he was being punished. “We’re going to get yelled at again.”
“No we won’t,” Ranpo said, already unwrapping his third lollipop. “We’re being respectful.”
“You’re lying on a gurney like a corpse.”
“Respectfully.”
Yosano didn’t say anything. The only sound came from the clicking of her keyboard as she typed. But there was a slight twitch in her eyebrow. Just the slightest.
Naomi wandered over to one of the trays and picked up a metal object. “Hey, what’s this shiny thing? It looks like a spoon but angry.”
“Tongue depressor,” Yosano said without looking up. “Don’t stab anyone with it.”
Kenji held up a stethoscope. “Sensei! This snake thing! Does it bite?”
“No, Kenji. It listens to your heart.”
“Oh! That’s sweet.”
Atsushi pointed to a flashlight. “This… isn’t a laser pointer, is it?”
Yosano paused. “It is now, if you blind Dazai with it.”
“HEY—”
Dazai had already shined it directly into Kunikida’s eyes. Kunikida slapped it away with a glare.
“Can you not blind me for five minutes?!”
“Nope.”
Yosano sighed and turned her chair slightly to face them. “You’re all still here.”
Ranpo nodded. “Yup.”
“You could leave.”
Dazai flopped over dramatically. “We really could.”
Kunikida opened his notebook. “We’re just… staying a little longer.”
Yosano raised a brow. “For what?”
Everyone suddenly became interested in random things.
“Learning,” Kenji said innocently, poking a cotton swab.
“Candy,” Ranpo muttered.
“I like how quiet it is,” Kyouka said.
“I’m scared you’ll call me back for another test,” Atsushi admitted.
“I live here now,” Dazai declared.
Naomi just started braiding a bandage.
Tanizaki pretended to be asleep in the corner.
Yosano looked at the mess of detectives strewn about her infirmary like lazy cats who refused to go back outside after a storm. They were touching everything, talking over each other, and definitely eating too much candy.
And yet… for the first time today, it was quiet in her chest.
Peaceful.
They were ridiculous, dramatic, and frustrating. But they were also hers.
Her team.
Her family.
And they stayed.
Yosano turned her head ever so slightly, watching Kyouka silently share a piece of candy with Atsushi. Ranpo poked Kenji in the forehead with a thermometer. Dazai dangled a roll of gauze from his nose like a mustache. Naomi leaned against Tanizaki’s shoulder, humming softly.
None of them said anything about it. But the room felt lighter. Not just because the checkups were done—but because somehow, in the silence, they all knew.
Yosano smiled—just the faintest twitch of her lips. Barely there. If anyone blinked, they’d miss it.
Then she turned back to her screen, expression flat as ever.
“Touch one more thing,” she said calmly, “and I’ll surgically remove your fingers.”
“Love you too, sensei,” Dazai said with a grin.
“Mhmm,” Ranpo echoed.
They stayed a little longer.
And the infirmary, filled with laughter, candy wrappers, and the click of Yosano’s keyboard, felt just a little more like home.
⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆