Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Fukuzawa Yukichi hadn't intended to start a family when he'd founded the Armed Detective Agency, yet that's somehow exactly what he'd ended up doing.

The thought strikes him as he looks over said family from his seat at one of Café Uzumaki's booths.  Edogawa Ranpo, the World's Greatest Detective and Fukuzawa's son in every way that matters, sits between the ADA's president and the window, chatting animatedly about his last case with a mouth full of pancakes that were probably 45% strawberry syrup by volume.  The boy (as he'd always be in the former bodyguard's mind despite being 26) had the most atrocious manners, couldn't navigate the public transportation system to save his life, and seemed to have made developing diabetes his mission in life.  That's all some people see when they look at him and Fukuzawa truly pities those people.  Beyond Ranpo's eccentricities lies a staggeringly sharp mind capable of almost instantly solving the most complex mysteries with practically nothing to work with in the way of evidence.  It'd be an astonishing ability if it were actually an ability.  It isn't, though; Ranpo is just that intelligent.  The ADA had been founded to support and protect him should something happen to his new guardian and he remains the Agency's crown jewel.

Sitting across from Ranpo, facing Uzumaki's back wall, is Dr. Yosano Akiko.  When she'd been brought into the ADA its internal purpose had changed from protecting one person to protecting two.  She had been shattered by her unwilling service in the Great War under the command of her superior officer and the president's former partner, Dr. Mori Ougai.  Then Mori had broken her even further by drafting her into the Port Mafia straight out of the psychiatric care facility she'd been a patient in.  She'd been suicidal when he and Ranpo had rescued her from the Mafia boss.  Fukuzawa hadn't known if she'd ever recover, but she had; not just recovered but thrived.  Her resilience, like her compassion and fierceness, is truly remarkable.

To the good doctor's right sits Kunikida Doppo, feverishly writing who knows what into his notebook of ideals.  Kunikida was an intense young man.  He gave off an air of authority despite only being 22, no doubt aided by his former career as a teacher.  While he can sometimes be overly rigid with regard to time management, the president admired his great respect for life and his unwavering dedication to public service.  It hadn't taken Fukuzawa long to start seeing Kunikida as a potential successor.  The president does wish Doppo would take a day off every now and then, though.  He wouldn't be surprised if Kunikida's hair went as grey as his own before the man reached 30.

Over at the next booth, facing Uzumaki's front entrance, were the Tanizaki siblings, Jun'ichirō and the ADA boss' unofficial personal assistant, Naomi.  They were an interesting pair.  The ex-bodyguard finds it best not to ponder their relationship too deeply.

Oda Sakunosuke sits next to the window across from the perplexing twosome, face permanently neutral.  Oda was a quiet presence in an company full of loud and eccentric personalities.  Fukuzawa felt a measure of kinship with the man.  Both of them were introverted former assassins who had found themselves raising unruly, extroverted children — or a small squad of them in Oda's case.  The redhead was difficult to read.  His face wasn't particularly expressive and he rarely voiced his thoughts.  Despite this, he was someone the younger members of the Agency looked up to and often sought out for advice.

One of these younger members sits to Oda's right: Akutagawa Ryuunosuke, the Agency's newest detective.  Ryuunosuke was a troubled young man, to say the least.  He'd been taken in by Oda and the following couple of weeks had been spent training him while trying to curb his violent tendencies.  It hadn't helped that Dazai Osamu, the man who had unseated Mori as head of the Port Mafia, had targeted him personally with a convoluted plan that had ended with the organization in shambles, its top raid captain missing, and its boss dead by his own hand, all apparently by design.  Ryuunosuke has been fairly tight-lipped about what happened beyond a broad overview.  Fukuzawa would be concerned, but the Rashōmon user has calmed down quite a bit after the incident so the president has decided to let the matter go for the time being.

Miyazawa Kenji, sitting in one the bar chairs that he'd pulled over to Oda's booth, had a lot to do with Ryuunouke's change in temperament, occasionally inviting the sullen young man to help the Agency's youngest detective work on his family's farm.  As much as the men and women of the ADA were family who enjoyed each other's company, the Agency's work was often deathly serious and Kenji was a much-needed source of optimism that kept the shadow of that work from falling too heavily.  He's beloved in the neighborhoods and markets around the office.  While the boy has his own deeply buried darkness, as they all do, he nonetheless stands as a symbol of the Agency's dedication to serving Yokohama, not just protecting it in an abstract sense.

(There were even more members among the Agency's corps of clerks, but they'd already gone on break since they open the office with Fukuzawa and Kunikida an hour before the detectives come in at 9 o'clock.  Although she's a clerk herself, Naomi usually elects to take her break with the detectives so she can eat with her brother.)

Fukuzawa takes in the sights and sounds of a normal ADA lunch break: The Tanizaki's teasing Ryuunosuke over his fear of Yosano; Ranpo tossing blueberries into the air and catching them in his mouth; Kunikida thinking out loud, albeit under his breath, as he schedules the next month of his life in its entirety.  The sound of the café's front door opening joins the chorus.  Being an all-around protective man, ex-bodyguard or not, Fukuzawa looks up out of habit to see who's walking in.

His stomach drops.

Walking into Café Uzumaki at that moment is a figure the president had last seen on security camera footage nearly murdering Ryuunosuke in this very space.  Fukuzawa will never forget Nakajima Atsushi as long as he lives.  He's wearing the exact same long, black coat with a fur-lined hood he'd worn that day.  The same black, military-style cargo pants, the same black combat boots, the same black gloves.  There are two differences between the man currently walking into the café and the man from the footage who was burned into Fukuzawa's memory, however.  First, his shaggy white hair with a single black stripe is a little longer than it'd been in the video.  Second, he isn't alone.

Standing to his left is a young girl in white traditional clothing, somewhere around 13–15 years old.  She's wearing a necklace with a cell phone attached to it.  Her eyes are focused.  The president recognizes Izumi Kyouka, too, but from wanted posters around the city.  He knew both of their reputations well.  From the sudden uproar of his detectives, he wasn't the only one who'd noticed their presence.

"The 'White Reaper'!"
"What the fuck is he doing here!?!"
"Shit, that's the 'Thirty-Five Killer'!"

Everyone is out their seats in a flash.  Jun'ichirō throws himself in front of Naomi.  The White Reaper does the same with the Thirty-Five Killer.  Fukuzawa, Kunikida, and Yosano form a line so Ranpo has a clear run to the door leading to the stairs and the elevator.  But Ranpo remains in his seat, looking intrigued by the mystery that's just fallen into his lap.  Stranger still, Oda and Ryuunosuke have placed themselves between the two Port Mafia enforcers and the rest of the ADA.  "Everyone calm down," Oda calls out only slightly louder than his normal speaking voice.  "What do you mean calm down!?!  They're with the Port Mafia!" Jun'ichirō spits back.  "No they aren't!  Not anymore!" Ryuunosuke yells.

Ryuunosuke had noted that in his report after his attack on the Mafia's headquarters.  Had he been wrong?

The White Reaper speaks before Fukuzawa has a chance to ponder that.  "I knew this was a bad idea."  "Atsushi, we can still-"  The White Reaper cuts the Thirty-Five Killer off before she can continue.  "No, Kyouka.  We need to leave now before this gets out of control."  Fukuzawa looks over at Kunikida and Yosano and sees their own looks of confusion and uncertainty no doubt matching his.  After an intense staring match, the Thirty-Five Killer relents with a sigh.  She seems very disappointed.  By what, the president doesn't dare speculate.  The two possibly former mafiosi start steadily making their way to the door.  Before they can reach it, however, the Thirty-Five Killer bolts in the opposite direction.  "Kyouka, don't!" the Reaper screams.  She jumps, front-flipping onto the bar which she immediately propels herself off of, back-flipping over the line meant to protect the World's Greatest Detective.

Fukuzawa has already turned to meet her when she lands, but to his shock, she drops down in prostration the second her feet meet the floor.  "Fukuzawa-san," she says in a soft but firm voice, "I humbly request that you consider myself and Atsushi for employment with the Armed Detective Agency."  All other sound in the room ceases for several seconds before Ranpo speaks for the first time since this tense situation began.  "Boss, I think we should hear them out."  "What!?!" Kunikida erupts.  He's immediately stunned back into silence when Ryuunosuke chimes in.  "I agree.  We should at least grant them an interview."

That got Fukuzawa's attention, and everyone else's.  "Ryuunosuke, the weretiger nearly killed you — would have killed you if not for my ability," Yosano responds calmly, voicing the thoughts of most of the people in the café.  "I know.  I can explain, though I warn you it's complicated and I'm not at liberty to disclose all of the details."  Fukuzawa would be lying if he said that didn't pique his curiosity.  He looks over at the now-former White Reaper, still frozen in place.  He looks just as surprised as everyone else that the man he'd almost murdered had spoken in his defense.

The president clears his throat to call for everyone's attention.

"Ryuunosuke, Kunikida, and Oda, you three and I will discuss this matter further in my office.  The rest of you please return to the main office, though in light of what's just occurred you may consider yourselves on paid time off for the rest of the day.  Nakajima-san and Kyouka-san, please follow us.  You will await my decision in our reception area."

His orders given, Fukuzawa turns and heads for the door he'd guarded for Ranpo as an awkward, uneasily silence falls over the group.

Chapter Text

The walk up to the office on the fourth floor is a quiet, uncomfortable affair.  Yosano had taken the Tanizaki's and Ranpo up in the elevator, leaving the others to take the stairs.  ("Skipping the stairs?  Works for me!" Ranpo had said cheerfully.)  The president and Kunikida walk at Kyouka's sides while Oda and Ryuunosuke stick close to Nakajima.  It's the same formation prison guards would use to escort inmates to or from their cells.  It hadn't been intentional, but the tension Fukuzawa sees in Kyouka's shoulders from the corner of his eye tells him that she's noticed the same thing.  No one says a word.

The sound of footwear hitting wooden floors gives way to quiet murmurs (and the sound of Ranpo eating) as the group walks into the Agency's office.  The president moves off to the side after walking through the doorway, allowing the rest to move ahead of him as they enter.  He watches as the two newcomers take the office in.  It's not much compared to what the two Port Mafia members were probably used to, but he was proud of it nonetheless.  He clears his throat to get the pair's attention as he gestures toward the cubicle made of wood and stained glass that serves as the ADA's reception area.  "Please wait in here while we discuss your request."  Nakajima just nods behind the high collar of his coat before laying his left arm across Kyouka's shoulders and gently leading her to sit on the reception area's couch.

Now that the adrenaline has long since left Fukuzawa's system he takes a moment to look over the Thirty-Five Killer and White Reaper.  God, they're both so young to have seen the horrors they have, much less committed any of them.  Aside from the understandable tension he'd taken note of earlier, Kyouka gives nothing of how she's feeling away.  Her face was completely neutral, reminding the president so much of Oda.  She is, for now, a closed book.

That was more than Fukuzawa could say for Nakajima.

While not exactly an open book, the nervous energy radiating off of the entirely black-clad boy is easy enough for the man formerly known as the Silver Wolf to read.  Everything in Nakajima's body language says mafioso, but everything in his eyes says anxiety.  Sunset-colored irises alternate between staying fixed ahead like a soldier at a guard post and darting around the room while avoiding anyone else's gaze.  Fukuzawa can't help but notice that they seem to twitch very slightly any time the young man moves his head or neck.  Despite his curiosity, the ADA leader knows he'll have to let that observation sit for the moment.  He turns around and heads to his office with Oda, Kunikida, and Ryuunosuke in tow.

———

"I think it goes without saying that I'm against hiring them," Kunikida says, starting the meeting, skipping any talk of an interview.  He'd opted to stand opposite Fukuzawa, who is sitting at his desk.  Oda and Ryuunosuke each took a couch.  The Agency's unofficial second-in-command adjusts his glasses.  "Aside from being an unnecessary risk to the Agency's reputation, we have no idea if they'll be up to the task of protecting the public after serving an organization that preyed on it for so long."  "Fair points," Fukuzawa says simply.  He had already figured Kunikida would be against the proposal.  He looks over at the junior detective on the couch facing the windows.  "What I'd really like to hear, however, is why you think we should hear them out, Ryuunosuke.  I would think you'd be the one most against it."

The black-haired young man clears his throat uncomfortably before he responds.  "As I said downstairs, it's complicated.  It goes back to the day I ran off to attack the Port Mafia's headquarters.  And when I said that there were details I wasn't at liberty to disclose, I meant that the safety of this universe depends on me keeping them secret."  A pregnant hush falls over the room.  The only sound that can be heard is the air conditioning.  Whatever Fukuzawa had been expecting from his newest employee's preface, it hadn't been that.  The looks on Kunikida and even Oda's faces tell the president that his confusion is shared.  They have no idea where this is going or even could go after that.  Had they even heard correctly?

The voice of Ryuunosuke's mentor breaks the silence.  "You said 'this universe'.  Am I right in suspecting that this involves multiple universes somehow?"  "Yes," his student answers flatly.  The surprise the president and Kunikida are feeling at the direction this meeting has taken is matched by the surprise on the junior detective's face at apparently having been understood despite the messy can of worms he has just opened.  "I'm unsure how to explain it all," Ryuunosuke adds.  "Just try as best you can," the president encourages.  Ryuunosuke takes a breath and begins.

"Have you ever heard of the Book?  One that can rewrite reality?" he says, only to be met with blank stares and another anticipatory absence of sound.  He clears his throat again before continuing.  "The Man in Black told Nakajima and myself about its existence after we fought."  The silence in the room becomes slightly more tense at the mention of the deceased Port Mafia boss.  "How it works is the thing I can't talk about.  If more than two people understand its mechanics it could destabilize our universe.  That's why the Man in Black killed himself."  Oda speaks before Fukuzawa or Kunikida can think of anything to say.  "I believe you."  "You do?" Fukuzawa, Kunikida, and Ryuunosuke ask in three different tones — one quietly intrigued, one bewildered, and one relieved.  "Yeah," Oda replies.  "I went to a bar in Tokyo that day.  Dazai came in and spoke to me.  Started talking about multiple universes.  I didn't give anything he said much thought at the time because I was more concerned with being approached by the boss of the Port Mafia so soon after what happened in the café."  "The Man in Black approached you?" Ryuunosuke asks with surprise.  Oda simply nods.  Fukuzawa sighs, hoping this pressure in his temples doesn't turn into a migraine.  Hopefully that's the last of the big revelations.

Fukuzawa speaks up after everyone had taken a second to process everything the mentor-mentee duo had said.  "Ryuunosuke, where exactly does Nakajima factor into all of this beyond simply knowing about the Book?"  "The Man in Black said that he had created a singularity upon making physical contact with it that allowed him to read the memories of his counterpart in another universe.  Me and Nakajima apparently fight together there.  The Man in Black's plan, from having us initially meet socially in the café to the fight on the roof of the Port Mafia base, was all to get the two of us to become a team capable of defending the Book from incoming future threats."  The tension that had settled at the first mention of Dazai intensifies.  The possibility of Yokohama coming under attack in a search for this book takes priority over all else.  "Did he mention any specific threats?" Kunikida asks, voicing the president's thoughts.  "Yes, two groups," Ryuunosuke answers, "the Guild and the Rats."

Fukuzawa quickly decides to have Ranpo look into these groups later, but for now he has one final question for the junior detective.  "If this information proves true the Agency will allow you to partner with Nakajima after work hours to defend the Book even if we don't hire him, if you wish."  A subtle resigned expression sneaks its way onto Kunikida's face, but the man stays quiet so Fukuzawa continues.  "What I'm more interested in right now is what your personal stake in Nakajima and Kyouka's potential employment here is.  Do you want them to work here after what the White Reaper did to you?"  Ryuunosuke gathers his thoughts before answering, looking uncomfortable again.  "Yes.  They wouldn't be here if they didn't need help.  I know Nakajima does from what little he's told me about his personal history.  As for Kyouka, I owe her for pulling her into the line of fire during my assault on their headquarters."

Fukuzawa nods and turns to Oda.  "And your thoughts?"  The redhead answers without hesitation.  "I think we should grant them an interview.  I'd be fine with hiring them outright, though, for the record."  "Any particular reason?" Fukuzawa presses.  Oda shrugs.  "Like Ryuu-kun said, they need help."  Fukuzawa nods and stands up from his chair before addressing his subordinates.  "It's settled, then.  We'll interview them individually.  I would like you three to be present with myself and Ranpo."  Kunikida's brows furrow.  "You want Ranpo to sit in on the interviews?" he asks.  It was a fair question.  Ranpo didn't normally participate in something as mundane as the hiring process.  "Yes," Fukuzawa replies.  "Retired or not, our intelligence from the Special Division says that Nakajima was the de facto third-highest ranking person in the Port Mafia.  We can't take that lightly.  Oda and Ryuunosuke, for security's sake please sit on either side of Ranpo."  "Yes, sir," they both answer as they follow Kunikida and Fukuzawa to the door.

Chapter Text

Uncertainty hangs heavily in the air while the president and the others wait for Kunikida to summon their first interviewee, Kyouka, to the conference room.  Per the master swordsman's request, Ranpo is seated between the users of Flawless and Rashōmon.  Should anything happen, Oda, who will be the closest on his side of the table to their subjects of questioning, will know before it happens, giving Ryuunosuke time to intercept and counter-attack.  Fukuzawa doubts any violence will break out, but those two abilities protecting the World's Greatest Detective gives the silver-haired man at least some peace of mind.

Ranpo had, of course, needed some convincing to take part in something he considered so boring; specifically an offer of praise from the president.  It was ironic, really.  The man who had raised Ranpo from the time he was 14 held the great detective in the highest esteem.  If Fukuzawa wasn't so naturally taciturn he knows that praise would flow freely any time he had a chance to speak to someone — anyone — about his genius child that he's so very proud of.  In moments like these he finds himself wishing he had the same gift of gab that Gen'ichirō has.

Ryuunosuke's discomfort at having to be in a room with the girl he'd effectively taken hostage remains palpable, but he seems content to simply deal with it without complaint.  It had been a shocking thing to read in an already shocking report, much less Ryuunosuke's own.  He'd made no attempt to hide it, instead apologizing profusely while promising to do better, to be better, with raw determination in his eyes.  He hasn't done anything since then to make the president doubt the sincerity of his word.  He has been calmer, more personable with clients and witnesses, dramatically less given to force, and overall more present — less stuck in his own mind.

Unfortunately the girl and her companion hadn't been there for that apology, of course, and understandably might not have accepted one even if they had been there to hear it.

Fukuzawa wonders far too late if having the clothing manipulator sit in on the interviews is a mistake.  The two Port Mafia refugees have all the reason in the world to hate the junior detective.  And yet, there only seems to be an awkward unease between them rather than any sort of actual ill feeling.  It's very strange.  Perhaps that's why it simply hadn't occurred to the president that keeping the two parties separated might be a priority.

The sound of the door opening brings the head of the ADA out of his thoughts.  The teen walks gracefully into the room ahead of Kunikida, her face is as neutral as it had been in the reception area.  She catches sight of Ryuunosuke.  For a second the Silver Wolf's body tenses, but she simply nods respectfully as she takes the empty seat at the head of the table.  A surprised Ryuunosuke stills for a moment before returning the nod.  If nothing else, she seems willing to let the past be the past.  Kunikida closes the door before talking his seat next to the president.

"Can you please tell us your name, age, and what your position in the Port Mafia was," Fukuzawa begins.  Her soft voice replies.  "My name is Izumi Kyouka.  I'm 14 years old.  I never had a formal rank."  Fukuzawa allows himself a heavy internal sigh.  She's only 14.  Just a child and yet blooded.  "Can you tell us why you want to join the Armed Detective Agency?"  "For Atsushi's sake," she says firmly.  Oda takes that moment to ask a question.  "If it's not too personal, what exactly is Nakajima-san to you?"  Fukuzawa almost smiles.  Despite his introverted nature Oda had always been good with kids, especially those from rough backgrounds.  If he remembers the intelligence reports Ango gave him some time ago, both of these kids are orphans so it would make sense for the redhead to take an interest in them.  Kyouka's eyes noticeably soften.  "I think of him as my big brother.  I haven't told him that, though.  Ever since we met he's always looked out for me.  He protects me and makes sure I always have what I need, even when he doesn't."

Something about that surprises the president.  Perhaps it shouldn't, Fukuzawa thinks.  After all, he doesn't know Nakajima Atsushi.  They had never met prior to today.  All he'd known of the White Reaper before he'd walked into Uzumaki two months ago was the reputation tied to that name, the legendary paths of destruction he always seemed to leave behind: gruesome crime scene photos of mauled, often dismembered or decapitated corpses; witness statements from the small handful of people who had survived his attacks, some traumatized so badly they were barely able to string a coherent sentence together, attesting that bullets and even cutting off parts of his body had done nothing to slow him down; impact craters and claw marks gouged deeply into solid concrete floors; steel bars bitten clean through; bodies that had impacted walls with such force that multiple internal organs had essentially burst.  He recalls one such latter case where a sub-executive loyal to Mori and out for revenge had met his end after being thrown into the concrete pillar of a parking garage.  He'd flown only 4 meters or so, but the coroner's report said that he had struck the pillar with force equivalent to a fall off a five-story building.

If anyone can understand the duality and complexity of Man it's Fukuzawa Yukichi, but he finds himself nonetheless having trouble reconciling all of that with the idea of the White Reaper caring about another human being, much less making sacrifices for them.  But that is indeed the full picture he's being presented with.  It shouldn't feel like new information.  That was the reason Ryuunosuke had taken Kyouka hostage, after all — she is important to him, so important that he had immediately betrayed his boss to keep her safe.

All of this raises a question, one Fukuzawa verbalizes.  "Why do you think Nakajima-san would benefit from being a member of the Agency?"  For the first time Kyouka's face shows signs of unease.  Her answer is hesitant.  "I've heard that you have the ability to improve your subordinates' control over their own abilities."  "All Men are Equal, yes," he confirms.  Kyouka pauses before speaking again.  Her words come out reluctantly and her eyes stay on the table in front of her.  "Atsushi never had the chance to master his ability.  He can't fully control it, not on his own.  He controls it with a collar."  "A collar?" asks Kunikida, who has been silent until now.  Kyouka still doesn't look up when she responds after another pause.  "It's a collar with spikes on the inside."  The president's stomach drops for the second time today.  Kyouka continues, voice flat.  "He's always in excruciating pain.  He even wears it at night when he's trying to sleep.  Lying down drives the spikes deeper into his neck."  "That's barbaric!" Kunikida exclaims, echoing Fukuzawa's thoughts.  Ryuunosuke looks disgusted and confused.  "Is that what that collar was!?!  But it was destroyed during our last fight!  He should be free of it!"  Kyouka shakes her head.  "He had a spare just in case that happened."  This angers Ryuunosuke.  "Why would he replace it!?!  The Man in Black is dead!"  Kyouka finally looks up from the table with a sad expression.

"The collar wasn't Dazai's idea."

Ryuunosuke and Kunikida's protests die on their tongues after that.  Oda and Ranpo both look disturbed.  "Why would he do that to himself?" the president asks.  Kyouka's eyes fall back on the table.  "Because he's terrified of transforming and hurting someone."  That is, frankly, shocking to Fukuzawa.  Kyouka seems to pick up on the air of stunned disbelief.  "Neither of us ever liked violence.  Atsushi killed because Dazai ordered him to.  Dazai saved him and he was too grateful to disobey.  I killed sometimes because my ability works against my will through this phone," she says, fingers brushing the cell phone hanging from her neck, "and sometimes to keep Atsushi safe."

Fukuzawa sees now why his new junior detective thinks Kyouka and Nakajima need help.  Were he less cautious with the lives of his employees and the city he's sworn to protect he would hire them now with no further questions.  He is cautious, however.  He needs to know a few more things and to consult with Ranpo before making that decision, and so he moves on to his final question.  "Do you understand that as a member of the Armed Detective Agency, you would have to swear not to kill in all but the most extreme situations?"  "Yes," she answers.  Fukuzawa nods and looks to the others.  "Does anyone else have any questions?"  Seeing nothing but shaking heads, the silver-haired man turns back to Kyouka.  "I think we're finished here.  You may return to the reception area.  Kunikida will be there shortly to collect Nakajima-san."  Kyouka gets up and turns toward the door, but pauses before turning back to the president.  "Promise me that you'll give him a fair chance even if he has no faith in himself."  The Agency founder doesn't need to think about that request.  "You have my word."  She nods and leaves the conference room, shutting the door gently behind her.

The second the detectives hear the soft click of the door handle everyone but the president and Kunikida seems to decompress in some way or another.  Ryuunosuke slouches in his seat while his mentor sighs.  The star detective of the ADA runs a hand through his hair in a rare open show of anxiety.  The swordsman doesn't blame them.  Today seems to be full of heavy discussions that somehow end up being even heavier than expected.  Still, they all have a job to do.

"Ranpo?" Fukuzawa asks patiently.  "She's telling the truth," he says tiredly without looking up.  Fukuzawa nods.  She's hired, then.  Now on to Nakajima.  Fukuzawa mentally prepares himself for the next interview, a talk with one of the most dangerous, and apparently one of the most troubled, men in the entire city of Yokohama.  Before speaking with Kyouka the Silver Wolf would've said that he was dreading this moment.  Now, knowing what he knows about the boy, he feels an odd sense of urgency.  Gen'ichirō can make fun of him and his "bleeding heart" all he wants; if someone needs help Fukuzawa will render whatever aid he can, even if the person in need is an 18-year-old said to be death itself.

———

"I want you to use Ultra Deduction throughout our conversation with Nakajima," the Fukuzawa says to Ranpo while they wait for Kunikida to bring their second interview subject to the conference room.  It's an unusual request, as Ranpo doesn't really use his "ability" in such a passive way.  It feels like overkill as well, but as the person ultimately responsible for the safety of everyone at the ADA, the president isn't going to take any chances with the Port Mafia's weretiger, concern for the young man's well-being notwithstanding.  Despite his rank of raid captain, Nakajima had served directly under Dazai Osamu and had attacked Ryuunosuke on his orders.  The junior detective may have moved on, but his boss is less inclined to... not quite yet, at least.

The boy, now man, the then-bodyguard had taken in all those years ago simply smiles and takes out a pair of eyeglasses.  "I figured as much," he says before putting them on and sliding them up the bridge of his nose.  Just a few seconds later the door opens and Nakajima quietly shuffles in with Kunikida trailing closely behind him, eyes sharp.  The thick, knee-length coat that had concealed most of the boy's form had apparently been left back in the reception area, revealing a tight turtleneck stretched over a surprisingly thin body.  He can't be more than 54–59 kg, around the same size as Ryuunosuke.  That observation leads Fukuzawa to wonder if Nakajima needs to be reminded to eat like the Agency sometimes has to do with its trenchcoat-wearing new hire.  Nakajima's arms are crossed over his chest in a way he seems to think looks casual but in actuality comes off as unsettled and defensive.  The president suspects that the decision to remove the coat wasn't the boy's.

"Please state your name, age, and position in the Port Mafia," Fukuzawa begins.  Nakajima makes eye contact only for a moment before looking anywhere but the president's gaze.  "Nakajima Atsushi.  18.  Raid captain," he answers formally.  "Um, I go by Atsushi, though, sir," he adds quietly.  "Uh, if that's okay, I mean.  It's fine if it's not."  The meeting has just started and already the president has been struck again with a difficulty reconciling what he knows about the White Reaper with what he is seeing and hearing.  He knows that Nakaji- that Atsushi in his fully shifted tiger form could easily stand toe to toe with the Silver Wolf.  Maybe he wouldn't win, but he could at least slow Fukuzawa down.  And yet here he is timidly asking if it's okay to use his own name.  A quick look around the room sees Fukuzawa's own train of thought subtly reflected back at him on Kunikida and Oda's faces.  Ryuunosuke looks annoyed and slightly sad.  Ranpo keeps his face blank.

The president redirects his focus back to the interview.  "That's quite alright, Atsushi," says in hopes of settling the boy’s nerves a little.  "What were your duties as raid captain?"  Atsushi doesn't relax even slightly.  "My job was to eliminate threats targeting Dazai-san or Nakahara Chuuya directly."  Fukuzawa frowns at the boy's continued anxiety, but presses on.  "Nakahara Chuuya was Dazai Osamu's second-in-command, correct?  The one who most likely succeeded him as boss?"  "Yes, sir.  I didn't interact with him much if you want more information on him." Atsushi answers simply.  "That's fine," the president reassures him.  "So you weren't involved in the actual racketeering side of the Port Mafia?  You were solely on the combat end?"  "Yes," the boy responds stiffly.

After a few more questions about the Mafia's inner workings, Kunikida speaks up.  "Can you please give us an estimate of how many people you've killed."  The former mafioso lowers his head and takes a deep breath before looking up at the idealist.  "I don't know."  "What do you mean you don't know!?!" Kunikida demands.  Atsushi sinks in his chair.  "I mean I don't know.  I was almost always sent to deal with groups.  I never counted how many people were there.  I didn't want to know."  Atsushi's voice begins to waver as he speaks.  "I didn't have much control over my ability before I joined the Port Mafia, especially during full moons.  Before Dazai took me in off the street, sometimes...  Sometimes I woke up covered in blood.  I never knew if it was animal blood or human blood."  Kunikida says nothing further, looking nauseous and unsure of how to feel.  I don't blame him.  Almost every detail we've learned about Atsushi's life so far has been highly upsetting.

Atsushi puts his head in his hands and takes another breath to steady himself.  "Tiger," a low, firm voice says, getting his attention.  "May we see your collar?"

Atsushi freezes.  His eyes widen, his breathing quickens, and his skin becomes pale.  He sits in silence visibly wrestling with his thoughts.  The president, seeing a panic attack rapidly forming, intervenes.  "You don't have to if it's too much, Atsushi.  However, if we're going to hire you I would like to know what we're dealing with."  A conflicted look crosses Atsushi's face, but he does somehow succeed in keeping himself from hyperventilating.  He nods shakily.  "I-  No, that's... that's fair."

The detectives steel themselves as a gloved hand reaches hesitantly for the top of a black turtleneck as the other hand grips the edge of the table.  The form-fitting material slides down until the black leather collar and its steel spikes are fully out in the open.  The smell of stale iron fills the air.  The sight is grim.  Atsushi's neck is covered in blood, both fresh and old.  The fresh blood, a vivid red, drips and runs in small, ghastly streams down the weretiger's tense, involuntarily twitching neck muscles.  The oldest blood, a rusty brown, is slowly flaking off.  The blood of an in-between age is coagulated and black, looking almost like tar.  It's a stomach-churning image that will haunt Fukuzawa until the day he dies, one made all the more horrifying by the knowledge that Atsushi had done this to himself, on purpose.

The president looks over his subordinates.  Kunikida has a hand over his mouth while Ryuunosuke just stares with his fists clenched tightly on the table, both looking positively enraged.  At what exactly Fukuzawa doesn't know.  Oda is looking at Atsushi with sorrow in his eyes.  If the the boy leaves this office and never comes back after today, Fukuzawa is certain that the redhead will find some way to keep an eye on him.  Finally Fukuzawa's eyes fall on Ranpo who looks almost as sad as Oda.  It was easy to forget given his everyday displays of immaturity, but as the World's Greatest Detective, one who solves cases others can't, the man has seen his fair share of traumatizing things.  This was just another entry on the list.  Unlike the other entries, however, there is nothing here for Ranpo to solve or fix.

Mercifully, Atsushi pulls the turtleneck back up.  He's unable to make eye contact with anyone in the room.  "I'm used to it.  It's not that bad," he says quietly.  That sends the ADA's two most hot-headed detectives into an uproar.  "'It's not that bad'!?!  Do you even hear yourself, you stupid tiger!?!" Ryuunosuke screams.  Kunikida jumps in.  "The fuck does it matter that you're used to it!?!  No one should be used to that!!!"  "I need it so the tiger doesn't go on a rampage!" Atsushi fires back.

"Enough!" Fukuzawa yells.

The room abruptly quiets back down, but the air remains charged with tension.  Fukuzawa moves to get the interview back on track.  "Atsushi, if you became a member of the Armed Detective Agency, you would have to swear not to kill in all but the most extreme situations.  Do you understand?"  "I highly doubt I'll be able to become a member, but it's not like I ever liked hurting people anyway," the boy murmurs sullenly.  Fukuzawa frowns.  "What makes you think you won't be able to become a member?"  Atsushi sighs.  The anger from a moment ago seems to bleed out of him, leaving only resignation in its wake.  "I won't be able to pass whatever test you give to new recruits."  The president blinks in surprise.  "How did know about the entrance exam?" Kunikida asks before Fukuzawa can.  His previous anger, too, has been forgotten.  Atsushi shrugs his shoulders.  "You're smart enough not to just hire two murderers without testing them."

Atsushi turns back to the president.  "I'm not going to pass the exam, but I want you to promise me something," he says with a newfound determination so unlike his earlier shyness.  "And that would be...?" Fukuzawa asks with great interest.  "Give Kyouka the exam first."  The president's brows furrow.  "May I ask why?"  Atsushi keeps his sunset-colored eyes locked on the Silver Wolf's own blue ones.  Now that the president really looks at them he can see a hint of desperation underneath the determination.  "Because she'll pass.  If I take the exam first and I fail she won't stick around.  But if she takes it first and passes, like I know she will, I can talk her into staying."

"If you don't mind me asking, what is Kyouka to you?" Oda asks after remaining silent through the entire interview up to now.  Atsushi's eyes lighten slightly.  "She's like my little sister.  She always tries to protect me or cheer me up when she can."  The light leaves just as quickly as it had come.  "You know, she left the Port Mafia once.  She could've left that life she hated behind and escaped to wherever she wanted.  She could've done it; she's way more capable than me.  She came back, though.  She risked execution just to watch my back.  She dove back into the darkness because of me.  We've been out of the Mafia for a little while now, but she's struggling to deal with everything we did... everyone we hurt.  She needs someone to help pull her the rest of the way into the light and that's the Agency.  It's the only reason I agreed to her idea to come here."

The swordsman understands why Kyouka went out her way to inoculate them against Atsushi's lack of self-confidence.  It saddens Fukuzawa, but despite everything it warms his heart to see that the two lost orphans cast off from the Port Mafia are so protective of each other.  Fukuzawa decides right then and there to hire Atsushi.  He'll wait for Ranpo to give his verdict, but unless the president's judgement of character is severely off the mark, he expects that it will go in Atsushi's favor.  There is one final item on the agenda left to address, though, before that can happen.  Fukuzawa wants to get through it quickly; he can see by the way Atsushi is beginning to slouch in his seat that this conversation is taking a lot out of him.

"We're almost finished, Atsushi, but there is one more thing we would like to discuss with you first: The Book."  Atsushi's eyes shoot to Ryuunosuke who merely gives the weretiger a small nod after a brief, wordless conservation.  It doesn't escape the president's notice.  Interesting.  They haven't even worked together yet and they're already developing the ability to communicate on that level.  It reminds Fukuzawa somewhat of his long-over partnership with Mori.  They were never what one could consider friends, but they'd shared a strange connection that had allowed them to function as a single well-oiled machine.  Where one left a gap, the other would close it without needed to be told.  They could formulate a plan solely through eye contact.  No threat to the people of Yokohama could stand against them.

If only they'd shared a moral code.

Atsushi's gaze falls back on the president, pulling him out of his thoughts of the past and back to the matter at hand in the present.  "How much do you know?" the white-haired man asks nervously.  Fukuzawa knows what he's really asking.  "A safe amount," he assures.  That seems to settle the boy.  "We were simply asking if you could confirm what Ryuunosuke has told us of it."  Atsushi clears his throat awkwardly, clearly not expecting any of this to have come up.  "There's not a lot I can say.  The Book can alter reality and Dazai-san engineered the conflict between Ryuunosuke and myself to forge us into a team capable of protecting it.  Other than how it works, which I'm sure you know I can't talk about, that's really all I know."

Fukuzawa nods.  "That's all I need to hear.  That is all, then.  If you will please return to the reception area to await our decision.  I will inform you now, however, that Ryuunosuke will be free to assist you in defending the Book regardless of the outcome."  Surprise and a bit of relief are evident on Atsushi's face.  He stands up and bows.  "Thank you for your time, Fukuzawa-san."  He nods to the rest of the detectives and quietly exits the conference room to join his sister in the main office.

The door barely has time to close before the president turns to look expectantly at Ranpo.  "Nothing but the truth, boss," the Agency's other supporting pillar says as he removes his glasses.  The president turns to look at Kunikida, but Ranpo speaks again before he can say anything to the blond man.  "You've already decided to hire them."  It's not a question, nor is it a surprise coming from the smartest man the swordsman knows.  "Yes."  The resigned look on Kunikida's face returns as his opens his notebook and begins feverishly writing something (most likely a new schedule) with a deep sigh.  Ranpo smiles gently.  "Softy."

———

Studying any martial art took patience.  To master one at a young age took an abundance of it.  As someone who had mastered several martial arts before he had reached adulthood, Fukuzawa had never considered himself a restless person.  He meditates regularly and has no difficulty keeping his mind from wandering during tedious work.  But all of that said, he can't deny feeling a little relieved to finally walk out of the small conference room and into the hallway, his detectives close behind him.  About three hours full of meetings and discussions have passed since Atsushi and Kyouka walked into Café Uzumaki and sent the Agency into chaos.  The rest of the workday had been cleared, leaving the tasks of informing the pair that they'd been hired and getting them settled the only obstacles left between now and the president being able to decompress alone in the peaceful atmosphere of his office.

The Tanizaki's are sitting around Jun'ichirō's desk looking at something on his phone when the group walks into the main office.  Yosano must have returned to her own office at some point.  A head of white hair sticks out of the reception area at the sound of the door to the side hallway opening.  It disappears briefly before Atsushi, now wearing his coat, and Kyouka step out to meet the approaching president and his entourage.  The girl's face is neutral.  This seems to be normal for her.  Her brother's face is mostly composed, but his eyes once again give away his anxiety.  Fukuzawa gives them a rare look of warmth, not wanting to make them wait for news any longer.

"Welcome to the Armed Detective Agency."

The adoptive siblings' eyes grow to their maximum widths with surprise.  It's the most emotion the president's seen on Kyouka's face all day.  It's rather amusing, he finds.  She schools her features and bows.  "Thank you, Fukuzawa-shachou," she says softly.  Atsushi repeats the gesture a second later.  Fukuzawa hums in acknowledgement before speaking.  "You'll be staying in the Agency's dorms from now on.  Kyouka-kun, you will be staying in your own dorm.  Atsushi-kun, you will be staying with Ryuunosuke-kun."  The pair's eyes return to their wide states.  The president continues before either can protest.  "This will give Atsushi-kun and Ryuunosuke-kun the privacy to discuss the Book openly."  "Oh, I didn't think about that," Atsushi says with a somewhat embarrassed air.  "'The Book'?" Kyouka says, clearly lost.  "I'll tell you later," Atsushi says.

With their newcomers' accommodations taken care of, all business for the day is settled.  "If there are no more questions, Ryuunosuke-kun can take you to your dorms."  Fukuzawa looks back at the Tanizaki's.  "Naomi-kun, did our clerks leave after I suspended operations for the day?"  "Yes, sir," she answers.  "Good.  Then you two are free to return home as well."  He addresses the rest of the room.  "Please enjoy the rest of your day.  I'll see you all tomorrow morning."  At that, the president walks back to the side hallway as the sound of people gathering their things fills the main office.  He knows Ranpo will wait for him at his desk; it has been a long day for him too.  He had, to Fukuzawa's surprise, complete abstained from candy during the interviews in order to focus and his adoptive father knows the man needs to indulge his sweet tooth while the other settles his minds alone.

The president shuts the hallway's door and takes a breath before walking to the door of the infirmary, knocking on it gently.  A brief moment passes before Yosano opens it.  "I'm sending everyone home for the day.  That includes you, Yosano-sensei."  She nods and Fukuzawa turns to reach for the door of his office before Yosano's voice stops him.  "You hired them didn't you?"  Yosano hadn't been present for that announcement, but she knows him well.  "I have," he says.  She doesn't look happy nor particularly upset.  "I expect them here for a checkup some time before noon."  She leaves no room for argument, not that Fukuzawa disagrees with the demand.  "Of course.  Please come speak to me before you examine Atsushi, though."  He doesn't want her to have to see the disgusting mess that is Atsushi's neck with no warning.  She raises an eyebrow, partially at his use of Nakajima's given name, but let's the matter drop.  "Have a nice evening, Yosano-kun," he says.  She smiles.  "You as well, Fukuzawa-sensei."

Fukuzawa turns and walks into his office, ready to be rid of the day's accumulated stress.

Chapter Text

The early morning air is cool and humid as Fukuzawa and Kunikida walk to the office. The day has just begun and already sweat clings uncomfortably to their skin despite the president cancelling their usual Tuesday martial arts training session that morning. The blond, a morning person if ever there was one, had naturally protested, but his teacher insisted that they deal with onboarding their two newest employees before slipping back into their normal routine. Trying to keep Doppo from stretching himself too thin was a constant struggle. The young man never wanted to stop working. Getting him to relax even a little usually involved Yosano and Oda conspiring against him for his own good, plots for which their boss is eternally grateful.

Kunikida's disappointment aside, the morning walk is still as enjoyable as always for the man in traditional clothing, a stretch of quiet reflection before jumping headfirst into the chaos of the Armed Detective Agency. It was a chance to take in the city he served at street level, to remind himself that the Agency has neighbors it needs to be mindful of, and of course to commune with the local stray cat population. His student waits patiently with his nose buried in his notebook while his mentor calmly feeds an amorphous horde of fur and hungry eyes. They usually walked to the office together on training days, so Kunikida is used to such things. To the president's delight, one of the neighborhood strays, a solid black cat with curious yellow eyes, decides to hitch a ride on his shoulder for a few blocks when he regretfully resumes their walk to work. It hops off shortly before their destination comes into view, but the knowledge that he would've had to part ways with it anyway softens his feeling of disappointment.

A few pleasantries with the staff of Café Uzumaki (complete with another apology for everyone's abrupt exit the day before) and a short elevator ride later, the two men are approaching the office as they would any other morning only to stop in their tracks at the sight of a now-familiar figure with white hair sitting on the floor outside the ADA's door. Atsushi's knees are drawn up to his chest, his chin resting on top of them as he hugs his legs. Shadows stain the skin beneath his dull eyes, staring at nothing in particular.

"What are you doing here so early?" Kunikida asks. The boy startles badly, suddenly-alert eyes — drained of purple, pupils slitted — shoot to the two approaching men before they soften in recognition. "What?" Atsushi says groggily, rubbing his eye (purple now restored) with the heel of his hand. "I said why are you here so early?" Kunikida repeats. "Oh. I'm, um- I'm sort of hard-wired to get up at 5:00," Atsushi begins as he slips his hands into the pockets of his coat. "It doesn't matter how late I fall asleep, I always wake up at 5 on the dot. I just figured that if I'm up I might as well go for a walk and then come here. I got here around, maybe 6:45... -ish."

That means he's been here sitting alone on the floor of a dimly-lit hallway for almost an hour after what the president is guessing was a night of little to no sleep. Fukuzawa doesn't like that thought. Atsushi could've at least waited at the café. Speaking of which... "No one at Café Uzumaki mentioned seeing you come in," the president says. Atsushi's right hand makes its way out his coat pocket and into the hair on the back of his head. "Yeah, I snuck past them." The other white-haired man in the room silently raises an eyebrow at this. "I'm embarrassed by the scene we caused yesterday!" the retired mafioso blurts out defensively. "I already probably couldn't go back there after the damage I did when I attacked Ryuunosuke, but I definitely can't now! I wouldn't want to see me again if I worked there."

It seems a bit silly to Fukuzawa to use stealth just to avoid awkwardness or embarrassment, but then again Fukuzawa has never done ¥617,000 worth of damage to a restaurant before. He had apologized for Ryuunosuke after he destroyed one of the café's booths while testing Oda on the former's first day. (Kenji always insists on apologizing on his own behalf, fortunately.) An irritated sigh from Kunikida, who is moving passed Atsushi, tells him that the blond's mind is probably in the same place. "I'm sure it'll be fine if you apologize, brat," he says gruffly while unlocking the door and stepping into the office.

Kunikida has the lights on before before Atsushi and Fukuzawa can step into the room. "You can hang your coat up there," he says to the youngest among them, gesturing towards the office's free-standing coat rack near the door. Atsushi's face takes on that deer-in-headlights look that the president feels like he's seen too many times to count after knowing the boy for less than a day. Though it seems rude even within the confines of his thoughts, Fukuzawa can't help but wonder how someone as skittish as Nakajima Atsushi had even functioned as the sword of the "Demon Prodigy" Dazai Osamu. He is a natural fighter, of course, and had certainly received brutal training to sharpen his instincts into a blade capable of cutting down any and all challengers to Dazai's rule over Yokohama's criminal underworld, but how had he dealt with the day-to-day of the Port Mafia? More people than one might think could rise to the occasion of combat or even murder once, it took another type of person entirely to do both professionally.

Fukuzawa thinks back to the incident Atsushi is so embarrassed by yesterday and the interview afterward. Not only had the boy walked into enemy territory where said enemy held a grudge against him personally solely to pursue a better life for Kyouka, he hadn't hesitated to shield her with his own body the second it looked like violence would erupt despite knowing she was a more than capable fighter in her own right. No, Nakajima Atsushi does have courage at least when it comes to protecting others, no matter how jarringly that fact contrasts with his timidity in seemingly every other situation.

Kunikida isn't one for going easy on people, timid or not.

"You can't hide in your coat all day, Atsushi. It's unprofessional," he says bluntly. "Part of this job is handling clients and witnesses and we can't have you running around here dressed like you're still an assassin, not so soon after Ryuunosuke finally stopped terrifying them half to death." The president quietly sighs to himself. Ryuunosuke's start with the Armed Detective Agency had been somewhat harrowing even before the conflict with the Port Mafia occurred. The young man had had only two things in his toolbox and they were violence and intimidation. Seeing him begin to thrive as a detective over the last couple of months has been as relieving as it is gratifying.

After some internal debate, Atsushi removes his coat and hangs it up on the rack. "By the way," Kunikida says as he starts making coffee, "does Ryuunosuke know you're here?" "I wrote him a note," Atsushi replies while removing his gloves. "He was still asleep when I left." The bespectacled man hums out an acknowledgment.

The conversation yields to the sound of the coffee maker running for a moment before Atsushi speaks again. "So... since I'm here, is there anything I can do?" "The rest of the detectives don't start work until 9 o'clock," Fukuzawa informs him. "The only thing there is to do at the moment is light janitorial work, things like changing the bags in our trash cans." The head of the Agency figures that will be the end of that conversation, but Atsushi's face brightens. "I can do that!" The two older men just blink in surprise for a moment before Kunikida asks, "Why?" Just like the day before, the brightness in Atsushi's eyes leaves a few seconds after arriving. "I just think I should earn my keep while I'm here, even if I won’t be here for long," he says quietly.

Fukuzawa sees a change in his student and successor's eyes as soon as those words leave the weretiger's lips. Out of Kunikida's many ideals, dutifulness is among those he believes in most fervently. It's what drives him, what makes him an outstanding detective, a great civil servant, and a man Yosano occasionally has to treat for stress-induced stomach ulcers. Up until now, the man had been begrudgingly tolerant of the fired White Reaper (though not wholly unsympathetic towards him). But now, after Atsushi has made it clear that he's here to work, Fukuzawa sees a little warmth make its home in Kunikida's gaze. "I'll show you where the cleaning supplies are," the blond says as he walks out the office with Atsushi on his heels.

Fukuzawa smiles and makes his way to his own office.

———

It's almost noon when the president gets to a stopping point in his work and begins getting ready to leave for lunch. As expected, Yosano had been, to say the least, greatly displeased to learn about Atsushi's collar and his insistence on keeping it on. Another way of putting it would be that she had looked about ready to strangle somebody with her bare hands when she’d come into the president’s office to report on how the checkups had gone. After Atsushi’s physical, his neck wasn’t the only source of her rage. Apparently, the oldest of the Agency’s newest recruits is covered in scars consistent with abuse and torture. One would assume they were from his time in the Port Mafia, but when questioned Atsushi had told Yosano that they were all from his childhood, which he spent in an orphanage. Before his new doctor could go on the warpath, however, he’d said that the ringleader of the torment was dead. That and the siblings’ check-ups going surprisingly well beyond the collar and scars had eased some of her anger.

Their formal introduction to the rest of the Agency had gone more smoothly. The Tanizaki’s were uneasy but willing to trust them knowing that both Ryuunosuke and Ranpo did, Kenji was just excited to meet new people, and the clerks had never been overly concerned with anyone’s past to begin with.

Fukuzawa clears his mind as he makes his way towards the main office, trying to leave work at work as he always encourages his subordinates to do during their lunch breaks. Unsurprisingly, the office is empty by the time he steps into it — empty except for Atsushi, who seems to be doing some sort of onboarding paperwork. He looks at Fukuzawa as soon as he senses the man’s presence. “Hi, Fukuzawa-shachou,” he says a little awkwardly. “Hello, Atsushi. Why haven’t you gone to lunch with the others?” Fukuzawa asks. “Oh, I still haven’t finished this yet so I figured I’d just get it done while everyone’s on break,” he answers. The president frowns. “You intend to skip lunch?” Atsushi responds with sheepish confusion. “Well... yeah? Shouldn’t I?”

The president just stares at him for a moment. The boy’s habit of casual self-sacrifice is quite sad, not least because something tells the taller of the two white-haired men that this behavior predates the shorter one’s murderer’s guilt. “Atsushi,” the president begins gently. “Everyone in the Armed Detective Agency is entitled to a lunch break. That includes you.” “But I’m not a member and I need to earn my place,” Atsushi protests. “You don’t need to earn the right to eat. And while it’s true that you’re not a member yet, you are an employee. ‘Everyone in the ADA’ means everyone in the ADA. No exceptions,” Fukuzawa finishes firmly. Atsushi looks uncomfortable, but slowly stands up and pushes the empty chair under his desk anyway. Fukuzawa reassures him with a small smile and a nod before the two make their way down to the café on the ground floor, the silence more relaxed than the walk up the day before.

———

“You’re technically wearing the blanket, though, so Rashōmon should work on it.”

There is scarcely a day that goes by in which the president doesn’t wonder at least once what the hell he’s just walked into. This is one of those times.

That aside, the scene in the Agency’s favorite lunch spot is much the same as it was the day before with the exception of Kyouka sitting by herself at the bar. Atsushi goes straight to her while Fukuzawa sits at his usual booth. He nods in thanks at Ranpo when he sees that the great detective, whose mouth is current covered with jelly donut remnants, has already ordered his food for him. He looks over at the mafioso siblings and sees Atsushi bow to the café owner. I guess he’s not going to wait to take Kunikida’s advice. The owner smiles at the boy gratefully and Fukuzawa turns his attention to the rest of the Agency and whatever conversation Ryuunosuke and Jun’ichirō are having. Watching and listening to his often-endangered employees relax and have fun is one of the small joys of his job.

“You’re not even curious!?!” Jun’ichirō asks incredulously. Ryuunosuke calmly sips his tea. “Trying it wouldn’t serve a purpose.” “Would it serve any less of a purpose than using your ability to make a hammock for Ranpo?” Naomi challenges from the redheaded boy’s arm. Ryuunosuke remains unfazed. “That’s different. Ranpo is the Agency’s leading detective and tending to his needs helps all of us in the long run,” the raven-haired boy with white-tipped fringes says with the barest hint of a shit-eating grin. “You tell ‘em, rookie!” Ranpo encourages while freshly chewed strawberries threaten to fall out of his mouth. The argument goes on for a while before Fukuzawa catches sight of Atsushi and Kyouka listening in, looking uncertain if they’re allowed to join in.

The president isn’t the only one who notices.

Kenji takes his chair and places it back at the bar where he got it, next to Atsushi. He sits back down and looks at the siblings with his usual bright smile. “So how’s your first day going?” They stare in surprise for a moment before Kyouka answers quietly. “It’s different from where we used to work, but pretty similar to the orphanage we lived in before moving into the Agency dorms. Lively is I guess how I would put it.” “That it is,” Kenji concurs enthusiastically before drawing them into a conversation about things to do and places to eat on this side of Yokohama. It’s the most relaxed either of the them has looked since they first showed up yesterday.

The president is beginning to think of Kenji as the ADA’s secret weapon when it comes to welcoming troubled people into the family. He and Jun’ichirō had been the first ones to connect with Ryuunosuke when he’d first joined. The same thing happens with clients and witnesses every day. His earnestness and near-total lack of guile are palpable and that helps him bond with people who have built thick walls around themselves, people with a well-earned distrust of others. The Agency’s “summer child,” as Naomi sometimes calls him, may not be able to get someone who has been hurt in the past to abandon their suspicions of the world, but he can at least prove to them that some people in it are worth more than a calculating glare or a cold shoulder.

Sometimes that’s good enough.

———

Fukuzawa can’t help but sigh when he sees Kunikida still hard at work as people are starting to leave the office for the day. He will most likely continue working for another hour or two. Forcing the blond to use his vacation days is beginning to look less like an option and more like a necessity. Honestly, Fukuzawa would consider it a great achievement if he could get the man to use even one vacation day. Yosano mirrors his look of concern and fond exasperation before walking out the door. The concern is also evident on the faces of Atsushi and Kyouka despite only having worked with the Agency’s second-in-command for a day. They look to Oda who merely shrugs before taking his own leave.

Aside from the most recent hires, Kunikida, and Fukuzawa himself, Ryuunosuke and Kenji, who is currently walking to the door, are now the only people left in the office. The president expects Kenji to go out of his way to give a friendly goodbye to his new coworkers, but to the former Silver Wolf’s surprise Atsushi gets the blond-haired boy’s attention first. “Hey, Kenji. Thank you for hanging out with us at lunch. Maybe we can do it again tomorrow?” he asks shyly. The ADA’s resident farmer beams back at them. “Of course! I’ll see you two tomorrow. Bye, Atsushi! Bye, Kyouka!” “Goodnight, Kenji,” Kyouka says quietly before Atsushi echos her sentiment. “Bye, everyone!” Kenji says to the office at large, waiting politely for the rest of the Agency to return his farewell before leaving.

Ryuunosuke turns to Atsushi. “We better leave now ourselves. It’s supposed to rain soon and I don’t want to find out what your fur smells like when it gets wet,” he says. Atsushi rolls his eyes. “We could just use Rashōmon as an umbrella, but fine,” he retorts before saying goodbye to Fukuzawa and Kunikida. Ryuunosuke and Kyouka follow suit and the trio heads off through the open door, leaving the president and his student. “I’ll be off myself, then. Goodnight, Kunikida-kun. Please don’t work too late.” Kunikida stands and bows. “Goodnight, Fukuzawa-shachou.” The president notices the lack of commitment to reasonable work hours, but nods anyway and makes his way to the stairwell.

All things considered, not a bad first day.

Chapter Text

“All in the all, both cases went better than expected.”

Fukuzawa nods in acknowledgment as Kunikida finishes giving his report on Atsushi and Kyouka’s first jobs for the Agency as the bespectacled man stands at attention between Oda and Naomi. They’d been relatively easy cases. Kyouka had handled a robbery a few blocks west of the office with the Tanizaki’s and Kenji while Atsushi had been sent to deal with a missing person’s case on the southeastern edge of the city with Kunikida and Oda. Kyouka had resolved her case with a bit too much force (only a 3 on the “Akutagawa Index”, according to Naomi), but had otherwise been perfectly professional. Atsushi had solved his case quickly by using the Tiger’s sense of smell to find their subject who, as it turns out, had simply blacked out the night before in a dumpster behind the bar he’d been drinking at.

No deaths, no injuries, no conflict escalations, no property damage. The president is pleased.

“That’s excellent news, Kunikida-kun,” he says as he stands up from his desk. “I think we can proceed with planning Kyouka’s entrance exam, then.” The blond and the redhead don’t comment on the president granting Atsushi’s request for the Agency to test his sister first.

At its core, the purpose of the entrance exam is to test a person’s resolve to help others. It’s quickly decided that Atsushi and Kyouka should have no involvement in their sibling’s exam so that resolve can be properly tested without them having each other’s presence as a motivator. (The president internally shudders when he remembers what a nightmare it had been to separate Jun'ichirō and Naomi long enough to conduct the elder Tanizaki’s exam.) It’s just as quickly decided to let them know when the other is going to be taking the exam. The exam is stressful enough for the person taking it. There’s no point in making it harder that it needs to be on that person’s only family as well, not after everything these specific applicants have gone through.

A hour later and the Agency has Kyouka’s exam fully planned (along with a welcome party at Naomi’s insistence) and Fukuzawa is instructing the departing planning committee to send Atsushi into his office next. Atsushi walks through the door less than a minute later. “You wanted to see me?” the weretiger asks. Fukuzawa assesses him for a moment before answering. While the boy is somewhat distant as usual, he seems to be in better spirits after closing his first case. It’s a start. “Yes,” Fukuzawa begins. “I simply wanted to inform you of a couple of things. The first is that Kyouka will be taking her entrance exam tomorrow.” Atsushi tenses up slightly, but stays quiet so the president moves on. “The second is that you won’t be involved.” “I figured I wouldn’t be,” the weretiger says quietly. “Um, so what will I be doing tomorrow?” “Just office work until the exam is finished. After that I’ll take you with me to go see her,” Fukuzawa reassures. This seems to satisfy Atsushi so Fukuzawa politely dismisses him and gets to the task of sorting through a stack of troublesome paperwork on his desk.

———

Atsushi isn’t at the Agency’s door the next morning when Fukuzawa and Kunikida reach the fourth floor. While he wasn’t required to be at the office that early, his presence had nonetheless become just normal enough that his absence was almost tangible in the silence that precedes the rest of the staff’s arrival. Any hope that Atsushi had simply slept in — or slept at all — dies when the boy arrives almost 20 minutes later looking like absolute hell after walking face first into the Agency door. His eyes are bloodshot and struggling to stay open. The shadows beneath them look more like bruises. He’s having trouble simply standing; his hand is gripping the rack he’s just hanged his coat on in an attempt to keep himself from swaying in exhaustion.

Fukuzawa asks the obvious question, one he’s pretty sure he already knows the answer to. “Atsushi, did you get any sleep last night?” “No,” the boys answers almost mechanically, half-lidded gaze fixed on the floor. “How much have you slept the past few days?” Fukuzawa presses. Red, tired eyes languidly float up to the ceiling in hazy thought. “Uh... maybe... two hours yesterday and... about an hour the day before that.” Three hours in as many days. No wonder he’s practically out on his feet.

“Getting a decent night’s sleep is an important part of maintaining a health lifestyle, brat,” Kunikida barks out in his signature mixture of frustration and concern. “Well, it’s not like I didn’t try,” the weretiger sleepily slurs back. “I just... couldn’t.” The former Silver Wolf looks at the former White Reaper with sympathy. Fukuzawa has had his own intimate, on-and-off relationship with insomnia over the years. He probably hadn’t gotten more than 10 hours of sleep total the first week after he quit his job as an assassin. A couple of nights he hadn’t even bothered with the pretense of going to bed. He eventually collapsed and got his first full night of rest on the floor of his apartment. He’s determined not to let the boy get to that point.

“Atsushi, follow me to my office. You can take a nap on one of my couches,” he says firmly. Atsushi opens his mouth, no doubt to protest about needing to earn his place again. The president doesn’t give him the chance. “You can barely stand. You’re no good to yourself or others in this state. Please trust me when I say that it’s okay for you to rest here if it’s something you desperately need.” Atsushi stares at the president, visibly trying to form a rebuttal as his mind runs on fumes. His shoulders sag as his gives up. “Okay, fine,” he mutters, following the president as he his rubs at his right eye.

Atsushi isn’t on the couch for longer than five minutes before he’s dead to world.

Half-formed whimpers catch Fukuzawa’s attention around a half-hour later, pulling it away from his stack of budgetary documents and client requests and towards the occupied couch. Despite being in a deep sleep, Atsushi’s brow remains furrowed and his posture remains guarded, his body shivering occasionally. The president frowns and rises from his chair before walking over to the cabinets standing along the wall opposite the windows. He crouches down and takes a blue, wool blanket out from one of the bottom cabinets. He closes the cabinet door as softly as he can and walks over to the couch where he carefully drapes it over the sleeping rookie detective. Before Yukichi can stop himself, he places his hand gently on the boy’s head. The whimpers taper off to nothing as Atsushi relaxes.

Fukuzawa smiles before returning to his desk.

———

As nervous as he is, Atsushi looks much better by the time he, the president, and Ryuunosuke climb into the Agency’s SUV to head to the sight where Kyouka’s exam had concluded. Fukuzawa had asked the dark-haired man to stay behind at the office on the off-chance that Atsushi couldn’t stop himself from rushing to Kyouka’s aid. It had proven unnecessary, but the president is glad he’d asked, as Ryuunosuke is doing a surprisingly good job of keeping his enemy-turned-partner’s mind off the uncertainty of the exam. He could see a hint of gratitude in sunset eyes through the rear-view mirror while the two boys entrusted with the fate of their universe were embroiled in a debate over waffles and pancakes.

“There’s a reason you almost never hear pancakes ordered singularly, tiger. They are customarily served in stacks. Merits of the waffle aside, pancakes are superior in both taste and cost effectiveness,” the clothing manipulator states his case confidently. The weretiger is having none of it. “I like pancakes just fine, but you can get Belgian waffles that are as thick as a stack of pancakes. And waffles have a crispiness to them that you can’t get with a pancake without burning it.” Ryuunosuke scowls with no heat behind it. “The point of pancakes is to be fluffy, you uncultured beast.” “You don’t have to choose between fluffiness and crispiness! Both are one in a good waffle,” Atsushi responds playfully.

It fascinates Fukuzawa that these two heavily traumatized orphans who tried to kill each other with everything that had can be so casual with each other just a couple of months later. This is the most he’s seen Atsushi come out of his shell, in fact. He wishes he had more time to ponder that, but they’ve reached their destination.

“We’re here.”

Atsushi almost throws himself out of the SUV and rushes to where Kyouka, Oda, and Kunikida are standing. The three are smiling. “I passed, Atsushi” Kyouka says with barely reserved joy a second before Atsushi wraps her up in a hug, not letting go until the president reaches them. Fukuzawa puts a hand softly on one of Kyouka’s shoulders, getting her attention. He’s smiling when she looks up at him. “You’re now a full member of the Agency. Congratulations, detective.” She nods. “Thank you, Fukuzawa-shachou.”

Kunikida speaks up. “I hate to interrupt, but we need to leave now if we’re going to make it back to the office at a reasonable time.” Kyouka seems a bit disappointed, but everyone except her knows that there’s a party in her honor waiting back at ADA headquarters and none of them wants to wait longer than they must to see the look on her face when she walks into the office. They quickly pile into the SUV (Oda volunteers to sit in the very back) and set off for home.

———

It’s close to 21:00 when the welcoming party starts to die down, though the sparkle in Kyouka’s eyes refuses to. Oda had left at around 20:00 to go take care of his orphans, Kenji was sleeping off the cake he’d eaten, Ranpo was working on his third slice, the Tanizaki’s were still busy introducing the guest of honor (and Ryuunosuke) to video games, and Kunikida and Yosano have already started the preliminary clean-up. The president, never feeling above manual labor, had just walked back into the office after grabbing trash bags from the supply closet in the main hallway when he spots Atsushi in the corner of the room watching the other younger members crowded around Kyouka while she plays Jun'ichirō’s Nintendo Switch. He’s smiling, but there’s a sorrowful look in his eyes. Fukuzawa is about to approach him when Yosano’s voice echos through the office. “A FOURTH SLICE!?! Put that back before you get diabetes, unless you want me to have to use my ability to fix your kidneys!”

Fukuzawa sighs.

Whatever it is, it will have to wait.

Chapter Text

While it may have been nice to enjoy the residual feeling of happiness that comes with welcoming a new person into the Agency, Fukuzawa supposes the current turn of events is more true to the Agency’s character.  A call from the Special Division had come in early the morning after the party requesting that the ADA take on a case they had been struggling with involving a car thief with the ability to turn both themselves and anything they touch invisible.  She wasn’t dangerous, thankfully, but she was clever and, as one can imagine, incredibly difficult to capture.  A lot of thought and most of the Agency’s labor were going into trying to track her down and trap her.  Any thought of Atsushi’s entrance exam had been put on hold.

The case has been progressing steadily, but very slowly by their standards.  Ranpo had urged them all to take a more cautious approach than normal; any hint of the Agency’s involvement would likely cause her to flee Yokohama all together and set up operations elsewhere.  They only have one shot at making an arrest.  If it fails, they won’t get another one.  No, the Armed Detective Agency has been taking its time with this one, making absolutely sure that it gets done right.

It is now around noon on the third and hopefully last day of the investigation and the president has just finished briefing the rest of the Agency on the plan that Oda and Ranpo had come up the night before and everyone’s part in it.  And indeed it was an all-hands plan.  Every field agent was involved, including the normally labor-avoidant Ranpo, the president himself, and Atsushi, who’s status with the Agency is still in limbo.  Speaking of the white-haired boy, Ranpo and Oda had both been adamant that Atsushi and Ryuunosuke handle the actual arrest together.  The president hadn’t had any objections.  It would give the ADA a chance to evaluate their still untested partnership.

Unfortunately, Ryuunosuke was probably the only person the weretiger could be paired up with anyway.

The strange sadness Fukuzawa had seen in the boy’s eyes the night of Kyouka’s welcoming party only seemed to deepen in the days that followed.  Atsushi is shy at the best of times, but after that night he’s been withdrawing from the rest of Agency, even Kyouka.  He has shown a frustrating talent for finding legitimate, work-related reasons to self-isolate.  The only person who’s managed stick close to him is Ryuunosuke, who is just as stubborn as he is.  When the ex-mafioso is around the others he is distracted and more reserved than usual.  It’s a concerning situation, not to mention a confusing one.  It had seemed like the boy was just starting to settle into the office.

The difficulty of their current case precluded any chance of confronting Atsushi about his abrupt emotional downturn and the president deeply regrets not doing it when he’d first noticed that something was wrong.  With a little luck, though, the car thief case will be closed in the next few hours and Fukuzawa can finally talk to their troubled young recruit.

———

The execution of a complex, multi-phase plan involving the entire detective corps of the ADA going exactly as laid out with no complications should give Fukuzawa a glowing feeling of accomplishment.  While he is proud of the Agency’s work, all he can feel is relief and urgency when the invisible car thief is finally handed over to the Special Division.  Within an half-hour of returning to the building the Armed Detective Agency calls home, he asks Atsushi to follow him to his office.  He would have asked sooner, but he’d wanted to see if the boy’s mood would see any improvement from the satisfaction of closing his first serious case, one whose success he and his new partner had played a key part in.  It had seemed to at first, right after he and Ryuunosuke had captured the rogue ability user, while the adrenaline was still flowing, but by the time he’d sat back down at his desk he’d gone quiet again.  Yukichi isn’t putting this discussion off any longer.  With an exchange of knowing nods between himself and Ranpo, the president walks to his office with Atsushi following behind him.

“Have a seat,” Fukuzawa says after his door clicks shut.  Atsushi sits down on the couch facing the window.  Fukuzawa sits across from him on the other couch rather than at his desk.  “You did good work today.”  The white-haired teen shrugs.  “Thanks.” His voice is listless.  The president decides to jump straight to the point.  “You’ve been depressed since Kyouka’s party.”  “Yeah,” the boy replies flatly, not bothering to deny it.  “May I ask why?” Yukichi inquires gently.  Atsushi pulls his knees up to his chest.  “I just... didn’t expect her entrance exam to come and go so quickly.”  Yukichi’s brow furrows.  “I’m not sure I follow,” he confesses.  The teen sighs and lays his head down on his knees, no longer looking at the president.  “Now that she’s passed the exam it’s just a matter of time before I fail mine and have to leave.  I don’t want to leave.”  Atsushi’s voice begins to falter.  “Everyone here is so kind and accepting.  Not that anyone at the orphanage now isn’t kind, but other than the new headmaster, they don’t know what I am or where I’ve been or what I’ve done.  Whenever I see them smiling at me like I’m not a barely caged beast all it does is remind me of what the old headmaster said, that I’d never find a place where I belong.”

Fukuzawa could feel his heart break.  Who could tell a child something so cruel? Who could say something like that to any child, much less this child?  Atsushi’s wavering voice interrupts Fukuzawa’s thoughts.  “You know what’s funny? Just before Dazai-san jumped off the Port Mafia building, he fired me and told me to take Kyouka and walk in the light, like that’s something I could just do.  Isn’t that crazy?”  The president answers firmly.  “I don’t think it’s crazy at all.”  “You don’t?” the teen asks in confusion, now looking Fukuzawa in the eyes.  “No,” the president replies with conviction.  “Atsushi, I don’t know what you see when you look in the mirror, but allow me to tell you what I see when I look at you.  I see an intelligent, kind, contrite young man who has managed to maintain a strong sense of empathy despite all of the terrible things he’s done and the impossible situations he’s survived, a young man in need of a second chance.  The Armed Detective Agency exists in part for people in need of second chances.  You deserve one just as much as Kyouka and I hope you will let us help you understand that.”  Tears run from purple and yellow eyes.  “Your kindness is wasted on a murderer like me,” Atsushi says quietly.  It’s a blatant, half-hearted attempt at pushing the president away.  Yukichi doesn’t take the bait.  “I’m a murderer too.  But you already knew that, didn’t you?”  Atsushi blinks in surprise, clearly not expecting to be called out for playing dumb.  The boy nods awkwardly.  “It’s in the way you move.”  Fukuzawa understands what he means without further explanation.  “I was an assassin for the peace-seeking faction of the government during the war,” he begins.  “My job was to kill pro-war politicians and industrialists.  I believed in what I did.  It consumed my entire life.  No one forced me to do it nor did I have any illusions about what I was signing up to do.  Do you know why I stopped?”  Atsushi shakes his head.  “I started to enjoy my work.  I began to feel satisfied after successful missions.  They became hunts.  I looked forward to them.”  The president takes a breath.  “My point, Atsushi, is that unless I’ve gravely misjudged your character I have no trouble believing that you’ve never once enjoyed taking a life.  If your crimes are unforgivable then so are mine.  Do you think I’m beyond redemption?”  “No! Of course not!” Atsushi responds emphatically.  “Then I don’t want to hear you putting yourself down for your past anymore.  You are not a monster.  I don’t know much about the last Port Mafia boss, but I know enough to say that Dazai wasn’t the kind of person who would spend his last moments telling you to walk in the light if he wasn’t absolutely confident that you were capable of it.  He believed in you, Kyouka believes in you, and I believe in you.”  Yukichi stands up and walks over to the couch the weretiger is balled up on and extends his hand.  “So, will you give yourself a chance?”  Atsushi stares at the hand, then at the president before nodding unsteadily.  “Okay”, he whispers as he takes the hand.

After a moment, Atsushi ends the handshake and starts trying to collect himself.  “Um, would you mind if I stayed here a minute, just until...?” he trails off while gesturing at his bloodshot eyes and wet cheeks.  “Of course.  Take as much time as you need,” Fukuzawa says as he grabs Atsushi a box of tissues from one of the bottom drawers of his desk.  The weretiger gratefully accepts it and smiles for the first time in days.  “Thank you.  Your patience reminds me of Mori-sensei.  He’s the new headmaster of the orphanage.”  The president stills.

It can’t be.  He’s dead.  Has been for years.

It’s a silly thought.  Logically, it must be someone with the same family name.  Curiosity and some strange feeling of hope gets the better of Yukichi, though.  He smooths his facial features quickly before Atsushi finishes drying his eyes.  “Did you ever catch his given name?”  Atsushi answers quickly. “Ōgai, I think.”  Fukuzawa’s brain comes to a grinding halt as a million emotions, positive and negative, come and go.  None of them must show on his face because the tone of Atsushi’s voice doesn’t change.  “Why, do you know him?”  There are many ways to answer that question.  Fukuzawa settles on, “I did, a long time ago.”  After a moment he adds, “How did he end up running your orphanage, if you don’t mind me asking?”  “He said Dazai-san sent him to take it over and reform it, oddly enough,” he replies.  So he and Dazai faked his death together and Mori retired.  Fukuzawa isn’t exactly sure how to feel about all of this.  All he knows is that after an exhausting conservation at the end an exhausting three days — an exhausting week, really, and the car thief case had canceled half the Agency’s weekend — he, as rigidly disciplined as he is, doesn’t have any more energy to spare thinking about this, not when he still has overdue planning to take care of.

By the time Atsushi makes the walk back to the main office a few minutes later, the rest of the ADA is leaving for the day.  He waits until everyone is gone before he approaches a still-present, still-working Kunikida.  The blond stands up the second he sees Fukuzawa.  “President?”  Fukuzawa cuts to the chase.  “I want you to pick up Oda and meet me here tomorrow.  I know it’s supposed to be a day off so please don’t come any earlier than 13:00.  It shouldn’t take any longer than a hour.  That should leave you most of the morning and most of the afternoon.”  Kunikida takes out his pen and notebook and starts writing.  “Of course. We’re planning Atsushi’s entrance exam, I assume?”  Fukuzawa smiles at his subordinate’s perceptiveness.  “Yes.  I would wait until the end of the weekend, but it’s been delayed long enough and I don’t think Atsushi’s anxiety can handle it being put off for much longer.  I want his exam conducted on Monday.”  “Yes, sir,” Kunikida says dutifully before returning to writing feverishly in his notebook.

Fukuzawa bids Kunikida farewell before heading home to what the man once known as the Silver Wolf hopes will be a dreamless sleep.

Chapter Text

A welcome silence hangs in the air of the Armed Detective Agency headquarters on Monday morning. Ryuunosuke, Oda, Jun'ichirō, Kunikida were off taking an unwitting Atsushi to the sight of his exam while Naomi and Kenji busy themselves with preparing the weretiger’s welcoming party. Ranpo is snacking quietly at his desk while reading an English-language mystery novel written by an American author whose name Fukuzawa didn’t catch. The president himself was doing research when someone knocks softly on his door. “Come in,” the president says. “Ranpo said you wanted to see me. Atsushi’s taking his exam?” the quiet voice of Kyouka asks. Fukuzawa looks up from his laptop, his pale blue eyes meeting her deep blue ones. “Yes. You’ll be spending the duration of his exam here at the Agency. You can sit wherever you like if you’d rather spend that time here instead of the main office. Would you like some tea?” “No thank you,” she answers softly as she takes a seat on the couch facing the windows… more softly than normal.

Fukuzawa takes a moment to look over the girl. Her face gives nothing away, but there’s a subtle tension in her shoulders. She must notice him assessing her. “I didn’t think I’d be so nervous.” Fukuzawa is quick to reassure her. “Atsushi will pass the exam.” “I know,” she says as she scratches anxiously at her wrist. “It’s just… Atsushi isn’t the most stable person. That’s why I wanted him to join the Agency; he’s been recovering at the orphanage under Mori-sensei’s care and all of the other children love him, but he doesn’t see that because they don’t know about his past with the Mafia. He self-isolates a lot and a person can only recover so much living like that. I just thought that helping people would help Atsushi. He needs this. I’m sure he’ll pass, but I can’t help worrying about him.” “It’s perfectly reasonable to worry,” the president says. He closes his laptop and stands up. “But if you’d like to take your mind off of it, I do believe it’s about time for lunch. We can go out for crêpes.” Wonder and hunger fill the girl’s eyes at the mention of her favorite food and Fukuzawa can’t help but smile.

———

A short walk later, the Agency’s president and its newest detective are sitting outside a small crêperie close to the office. Kyouka is making her way through the restaurant’s signature treat while Fukuzawa himself drinks a simple green tea. “So,” Fukuzawa starts, “how are you settling into the Agency?” Kyouka politely waits until she’s swallowed her food before answering. “It’s different, in a good way. Atsushi and I don’t really have true peers in the orphanage because we help out enough that the other kids look at us almost like we’re staff. The Agency feels more like family. Yosano-sensei feels like what I’ve always thought big sisters were like.” Warmth fills Fukuzawa’s heart. “She’s very protective of those she cares about,” he says. “Her great heart is why we hired her. She decided to become a doctor after joining the Agency.”

It’s a wonder she had any kindness left after two separate tours of duty under Mori, one in the army and one in the Port Mafia.

Fukuzawa gives himself a moment to wonder about his former partner. He still didn’t know how he should feel about the doctor being alive and running an orphanage, and apparently doing a good job of it. The Mori Ōgai he knew was, to be blunt, a bastard. He was manipulative, smug, and utterly ruthless. Pragmatism was his only moral code. Mori was a firm believer in total warfare, whether it was on an actual battlefield or in the streets of Yokohama. His love for the city was his only moderating influence. To go from that to a dedicated orphanage director...

It should fill the president with suspicion and with concern for the Agency’s own doctor, but something tells him that the former underground clinician’s secret retirement is genuine. They’d each always understood how the other thought even if they struggled to understand why. Mori’s rise to the top of the Port Mafia hadn’t been motivated by a lust for power. It had been driven by a desire to stop the previous boss’ senseless, increasingly indiscriminate campaign of terror that had brought Yokohama to the brink of destruction. With the equally cool-headed and frighteningly effective Dazai at the helm of the organization, Mori saw no need for his reign to continue. And with long-time executive Nakahara Chuuya taking over for the deceased Demon Prodigy, Fukuzawa doubts that assessment has changed.

Still, there is one thing Fukuzawa wants to know.

“Kyouka, do you deal with Mori-sensei in person regularly?” Kyouka doesn’t seem surprised by his interest. Atsushi must have told her that the president and the doctor knew each other. “A lot. Why?” she asks bluntly. “Does he seem happy?” Fukuzawa asks in return. Kyouka smiles. “Yes.”

Fukuzawa’s cell phone chooses that moment to ring. He takes it out of his pocket and looks at the caller ID. It’s Oda. Fukuzawa flips the phone open and puts it to his ear. “Yes?” he say expectantly. Oda’s gruff voice answers. “There were some complications with the exam, but we’re wrapping up. We ended up in Rinko Park, right on the waterfront.” “Understood. Kyouka and I are on our way,” the president says before hanging up. Fukuzawa gently snaps the phone shut as he rises from his seat and looks over at a now-standing Kyouka. The tension has returned to her shoulders. “Did he pass?” she asks. “Oda didn’t say,” he replies. We’ll find out when we get there, I suppose.” The girl nods as the two begin making their way to the nearest train station.

———

This is certainly unexpected.

The sight that greets the president and Kyouka is Jun'ichirō, Ryuunosuke, and a particularly exhausted-looking Atsushi, whose clothes are extensively damaged, detaining a small group of men in black fatigues. There’s nine by Fukuzawa’s count, all lying face-down on the ground. Four of them are handcuffed, three are in zip-ties, and the remaining two are secured with Rashōmon. Closer to the late-arriving Agency members are Oda and Kunikida, guarding a pile of confiscated weapons. Kyouka runs to Atsushi who embraces her.

“Who are they?” the president inquires. Oda answers. “Mercenaries. They tried to kidnap Atsushi during the exam.” Fukuzawa’s blood runs cold. “You were ambushed?” “Actually, they seemed surprised to see us when we stumbled upon them,” Oda says. “I think they were just preparing to move out. They didn’t seem prepared.” “They were sloppy,” Kunikida adds with disgust. “But you’re sure Atsushi was their target?” the president asks. “Yeah,” Oda says definitively. “Jun'ichirō was able to get a confession out of one of them with Light Snow. They don’t know who their client is.” Fukuzawa frowns, but forces himself to put this troubling development off to the side for the moment. “Were you able to complete the exam?” Kunikida answers. “There was no need, the brat passed. One of those bastards threw a grenade that ended up bouncing toward a crowd of people. Atsushi jumped on it.” A jolt of dread shoots through the president’s body. He almost has to remind himself that Atsushi is standing not even nine meters away. We could’ve lost him. “Thank god it didn’t go off,” he says finally. Kunikida sighs grimly.

“It did.”

Fukuzawa finds himself unable to speak — almost unable to breathe. Kunikida continues in the silence. “He lost the lower two-thirds of his body. His ability regenerated it.” How strong is his ability? Just then, a large group of Yokohama police rush by to take the mercenaries into custody and Fukuzawa decides to not ponder the matter any further for now, simply nodding to Kunikida to indicate that he understood what he’s just been told before making his way over to Atsushi. The boy’s waited long enough to know his fate with the Agency.

“Nakajima Atsushi,” he calls out. Atsushi spins around to face him, posture rigid and hands behind his back. Yukichi smiles. “Congratulations. You’re now officially a member of the Armed Detective Agency.”

Atsushi almost falls to the ground in relief.

———

The weretiger’s smile hasn’t dimmed one bit as his welcoming party begins to wind down. His shoulders are relaxed in a way Fukuzawa hasn’t seen before. The president would be foolish to believe that Atsushi, or Kyouka for that matter, has no healing to do beyond this, but for now it’s enough. They have time now that there’s no looming, imaginary threat of expulsion. Atsushi, Kyouka, Ryuunosuke, Oda, Kunikida, Yosano, and the president are the only ones left in the office now. The clerks left an hour ago, Kenji and the Tanizaki’s followed shortly after. Ranpo just left in a hurry five minutes ago after failing to sneak an extra slice of cake again, Yosano catching him red-handed. The president remains conflicted over never teaching Ranpo at least basic stealth.

Fukuzawa himself is about to take his leave when Kyouka calls out to him. “Fukuzawa-shachou, Atsushi’s covered by your ability now, right?” Fukuzawa turns to face her. “He has been since the moment Kunikida told me he passed the exam.” Kyouka nods with determination and turns to Atsushi. “There’s no reason to keep your collar on anymore. Please take it off.” Nervous sunset eyes jet from one Agency member to the other looking for any objection. Seeing none, the former White Reaper takes a shaky breathe before reaching an equally shaky hand up to the top of his black turtleneck and pulling downward. The sight is just as ugly as the first time the president saw it in the conference room, only made easier to bear by the knowledge that this will be the last time anyone will see it.

Then Atsushi does something unexpected. He looks over to Ryuunosuke.

“Go ahead.”

Ryuunosuke blinks in surprise before summoning a fine tendril of Rashōmon from his coat. A single sharp edge appears as the tendril swiftly makes its way up Atsushi’s neck between his throat and the collar, threading through the spikes. Atsushi shows no fear, trusting in Ryuunosuke completely. Without stopping, the tendril curls out and downward before it can reach Atsushi’s chin and abruptly constricts once it’s passed the collar’s width, cutting it cleanly. Rashōmon disappears back into Ryuunosuke’s coat as Yosano jumps in with a pair of gloves and begins delicately removing the spikes from the weretiger’s skin. Once out, their full, horrifying length becomes visible for the first time. Yosano overhand-throws it into the nearest trash can much harder than is strictly necessary. Before she can move on to treating the wounds it left behind, each bloody puncture glows a brilliant blue and closes before their very eyes. Atsushi takes a deep breath, deeper than he’s ever allowed himself to take, and moves his head around experimentally; left and right, up and down. When he finally begins making eye contact with the rest of the group, there are tears in his eyes and a smile even brighter than before gracing his lips.

“Thank you.”

Chapter Text

The first thing that strikes Yukichi about the orphanage building is how imposing it must be to a child entering it for the first time, with its cold, stone architecture and an iron gate that resembles a line of spears.  It certainly doesn’t do anything to soften Fukuzawa’s impression of what the institution’s atmosphere must have been like under the thumb of a man who emotionally and physically abused the vulnerable children in his care, children who had already been stripped of their families and left with nothing else.  How much must this place have changed for one of those abused children to speak so highly of it now?  The second thing that strikes Yukichi about the orphanage building, once he’s entered and asked one of the employees to fetch the headmaster, is how radically different the interior is.  The floors are warm-toned hardwood and the walls of the foyer are covered with children’s artwork.  A few children and their chaperone, a blond woman who appears to be in her early twenties, run excitedly through the halls while the silver-haired man waits for a reunion he’s still unsure how to feel about.  Their smiles are wide and unguarded, their posture carefree.  The woman seems open and at ease.  She stops when she notices him, staring for a second before nodding to him in polite acknowledgment as she walks by.  Fukuzawa’s eyes narrow.

She seems familiar for some reason.

“Don’t tell me you don’t recognize my dear Elise, Fukuzawa-dono,” a smooth voice that Yukichi would know anywhere calls out.  The old bodyguard turns to face his old partner and charge.  Fukuzawa is immediately struck by how much the doctor-turned-Mafia boss-turned-orphanage director’s smile had changed; other than his clothes and a few wrinkles it’s the the only thing about his appearance that’s changed.  It’s sincere.  It’s warm, without a hint of the smug viciousness the assassin-turned-bodyguard-turned-detective agency director had come to know.  The man’s words suddenly register.  “That was Elise?”  Mori’s eyes sparkle with guileless humor.  “It was indeed. I must say, she’s really taken to this new environment.”  The black-haired man turns and gracefully gestures toward the end of the hall with this left arm.  “I just made tea if you’d like to follow me to my office.”

The walk is quiet, but not uncomfortably so.  Mori clicks the door shut softly before pouring some tea into a blue ceramic cup for his now-seated guest.  He hands it to Fukuzawa before sitting down in his high-backed black leather office chair and picking up his own cup.  “So, I assume Atsushi or Kyouka gave away the big secret,” he says with amusement before taking a sip.  Fukuzawa sips his own tea.  It’s a little on the sweet side.  “Atsushi did. I assume you’re aware of where they’ve been and why?”  “Of course. I may have mentioned to Kyouka that your ability could help control Atsushi’s own,” Mori says with a smirk.  Ah, there’s a bit of the old Mori.  “They’ve passed the entrance exam, I take it?”  Fukuzawa nods.  “They have.”  “As expected,” Mori says with pride.  The doctor’s smile falls, though his old coldness doesn’t surface in its place.  “You’ve seen Atsushi’s collar, then?”  The leader of the Armed Detective Agency can’t help the heavy sigh that escapes him.  “Yes. Kyouka told us about it when we interviewed her and we requested that Atsushi show it to us during his.  He finally consented to its removal after his welcoming party a few nights ago.”  Relief floods the doctor’s eyes.  “Good. I offered to help him learn to control his ability.  He was too frightened of hurting someone to risk it.  He will still need to learn at some point, but that should be relatively easy compared to getting that thing off of his neck.”  Fukuzawa can only hum in agreement before taking another sip from his cup.  The silver-haired man regards Mori for a moment.  “Atsushi speaks highly of this institution these days,” Fukuzawa says, shaking Mori from whatever thoughts he seems to have briefly gotten lost in.  “It’s a radical change compared to what little I’ve been able to pick up from him about what it was like before.”  Mori chuckles humorlessly.  “That’s a rather low bar to clear, I’m afraid.  Atsushi hasn’t told me much about his first stay here, but I know from interviews I conducted with some of his few remaining peers here that of all the children, he was treated the worst.  Considering how badly the children I personally saw had been treated when I first took over...  It’s not the prettiest picture, to say the least.”  “Who was his previous headmaster?” Fukuzawa asks.  “An absolute madman, if you ask me,” Mori answers coldly.  “He thought instilling his charges with anger at his injustice would make them righteous, compassionate adults.  I’d rather not talk about how violent that injustice was.  It took three or four months for the children to start believing me when I told them that they’d never be abused again, and that was after I had fired and replaced the entire existing staff on the first day.”  None of that surprises Fukuzawa given the number the old headmaster has done on Atsushi.

He gives Mori a sympathetic look and a moment to settle before changing the subject.  “In any case, you seem to be doing right by them.  Elise isn’t the only one whose taken to their new environment.”  Mori looks surprised at the praise before a pleasant smile blooms on his face.  “Yes, I’m rather surprised by it myself.”  The smile turns melancholic. “Though I must say, the relative calmness of this new life has given me an unpleasant opportunity to reflect on my old ones.  I won’t say I regret all of it, as I still believe some of it was necessary, but it will take many years of happy, healthy children graduating from here ready for the outside world before I can atone for it all.”  “Is she one of your regrets?” Fukuzawa asks with a sudden edge to his voice.  Mori’s expression doesn’t change.  “Perhaps my biggest,” Mori answers without hesitation.  Fukuzawa feels himself relax as Mori continues.  “An army of nigh-immortal soldiers was at best a mad dream, concocted to continue a doomed defense in an already pointless conflict.  And even if it had been worth pursuing, Yosano was just a child, no different than the ones I care for at this very institution.  Thinking about any of my charges going through what I made her or the soldiers I was responsible for experience tends to keep me up at night.”  Fukuzawa looks at Mori with surprise, then compassion.  “For what it’s worth, Ougai, I’ve always believed in second chances and I believe you’re making the most of this one.”  Mori’s smile turns more cheerful.  “I could say the same for you, Silver Wolf,” he says earnestly with a hint of mirth.

A peaceful silence fills the room before a soft knock on the door breaks it.  “Come in,” Mori says.  The door swings open to reveal Elise.  “Rintarō, it’s almost time to serve breakfast.  Stop hiding in your office like a lonely trapdoor spider,” she says before walking away.  Why someone would want to be chided by their own ability like this Fukuzawa would never understand.  Mori may be on the path to becoming a better person, but he’s still as odd as ever.  The man in question sighs lightly as the two men stand up and make their way out of the office.  “Well, I must return to my responsibilities.  I trust you can find your way out.  I doubt they’ll need the reminder, but please be sure to tell Atsushi and Kyouka come visit sometime.  I wouldn’t mind if you wish to tag along, should you wish.” Yukichi smiles.  “Of course.  Until that day, take care, Mori-sensei,“ Fukuzawa says warmly.  “And you as well, Fukuzawa-dono,” Mori says with a smile before walking down the hall where Elise had disappeared.

Fukuzawa walks out of the orphanage, through the gate, and to the company SUV, never once noticing the pleased-looking calico cat sitting high up in a nearby tree.

———

The president makes it to the ADA building just in time to join the Agency’s detective corps for lunch at Café Uzumaki.  He walks quietly through the door and takes a look at the family he and Ranpo have built: Yosano, Kunikida, Oda, the Tanizaki’s, Kenji, Ryuunosuke, and now Kyouka and an uncollared Atsushi, all safe, happy, and together.  “You’re back just in time, boss! Just as I predicted, of course,” Ranpo calls out, getting everyone’s attention and triggering a wave of greetings.  “Hello, everyone,” he greets back kindly.  He takes his usual seat next to Ranpo, where his son has already ordered food for him, and starts eating.  As the usual chatter and chaos of the Armed Detective Agency wash over him, Fukuzawa Yukichi can only think of how truly fortunate and content he is.

I’ve think I’ve made the most of this second chance too, Ougai.