Not long after leaving Edogawa Ranpo behind, Fukuzawa Yukichi's cold, hardened heart began to waver again.
That was a child.
A child with an intellect frighteningly high.
Having lost his guardian and possessing no money, what might such a child do? If he were willing, he could orchestrate a murder through a secretary so flawlessly that not a single trace remained; he could pierce straight through the veils of deception others hid behind, laying bare their secrets with surgical precision. And yet this child lacked the ability to protect himself, spoke without restraint, and in a city as murky and treacherous as Yokohama—where dragons and fish swam together—how many enemies would he offend?
Fukuzawa Yukichi cursed himself inwardly for meddling where he ought not. The boy had asked him for shelter, and he had refused; yet after abandoning him, regret crept in all the same. He regretted not checking the phone number in the contact list, regretted being unable to get in touch with the child's family.
[Uncle Akiya].
The note attached to that name was unmistakably intimate at a glance, the kind of nickname that spoke of closeness—someone Edogawa Ranpo trusted deeply.
Fukuzawa Yukichi automatically ignored the unflattering title of "silver-haired uncle." By age alone, he was indeed old enough to be called an uncle; if being called old was unavoidable, then so be it. A single man in his thirties had nothing to fear.
"If he goes home safely, then I won't need to worry anymore—and I'll have done right by that 'Clairvoyant' detective as well."
Edogawa Ranpo's father had solved countless cases for the government, saved innumerable lives, and was without question a figure worthy of respect. Fukuzawa Yukichi held deep admiration for Ranpo's father, and through the words of the child, he also came to respect the housewife who had managed, in matters of deduction, to restrain and outmatch the famed "clairvoyant" detective.
…As for that unreliable guardian, he chose not to think about it.
Gritting his teeth, Fukuzawa Yukichi turned back. He asked the teahouse owner for directions and set off to follow Edogawa Ranpo.
He made a decision: as long as the boy returned home safely, he would wash his hands of the matter and no longer concern himself with the child.
That's right—his profession was not that of a nanny.
He was a bodyguard!
In the span of a single day, Fukuzawa Yukichi spent his morning at the S&K Corporation, his noon lingering in a teahouse, and his afternoon trailing behind Edogawa Ranpo—stopping and starting, following and waiting—until an indescribable exhaustion settled deep in his bones.
"Why isn't this child going home? He has no money—why is he wandering into snack shops?"
"Why doesn't he go find a friend? Does he not have any friends at all?"
"What is he looking at…? He shouldn't be able to notice me, right? My concealment skills are first-rate; no matter how clever someone is, they would still have to see me before they could detect me. I've been careful to keep my distance."
"Time's moving too fast—it's already night…"
"Where are you going now?!"
Without realizing it, Fukuzawa Yukichi had accumulated a bellyful of worry, and the longer he watched, the more he felt that Ranpo was exactly the sort of child who might wander off and get lost at any moment.
When the trail led into a villa district, Fukuzawa Yukichi's brow furrowed heavily. This area was a "restricted zone" of Yokohama's underworld. The foreigners who lived here were either obscenely wealthy or nobly powerful; some tycoons employed bodyguards who were battle-hardened ability users, or mercenaries tempered on real battlefields. Even the most vicious criminals thought twice before approaching this place.
"Does he have someone he knows here?" Fukuzawa Yukichi reasoned it out calmly. "That makes sense—his guardian has settled in Yokohama, so they must have built up considerable connections. There's a high probability they know people living in this villa district."
Fukuzawa Yukichi was right.
The only thing he had misjudged was the reason Edogawa Ranpo had come here seeking refuge.
Hidden beneath the cover of night, Fukuzawa Yukichi remained exceedingly cautious. He watched as the black-haired boy stopped in front of a standalone French-style villa and pressed the doorbell. Almost immediately, a beautiful foreign woman came to answer the door.
"Is that his Big sister?" Fukuzawa Yukichi focused intently, catching the way Ranpo addressed the woman.
[It seems she's an acquaintance—someone who can take Ranpo in.]
Holding on to that pleasant possibility, Fukuzawa Yukichi finally relaxed. After meeting this boy, the amount of energy he had expended in a single day far exceeded what he usually burned on an actual bodyguard assignment.
Yet he forced himself to leave. He had taken only a few steps when Ranpo's words from earlier in the day suddenly resurfaced in his mind.
[Silver-haired uncle, I don't want to work hard anymore! I can do anything!]
[Big sister, would you be willing to take me in?]
Placed side by side, the two sounded eerily similar, and could be summed up in a single sentence: I'm very cute—please keep me.
A chill ran from the top of Fukuzawa Yukichi's head to the soles of his feet. He turned back once more to look at the villa's closed gates, at the luxurious grounds within, and at the buildings glowing softly with lights amid the trees.
"Impossible… right?"
Did foreign women really take a liking to boys this young?
Hadn't those gossip-loving colleagues in the government always said that foreign women preferred strong, well-built men?
"I'm just scaring myself," Fukuzawa Yukichi muttered. He circled back to the gate and waited for a while, but heard no scream from Edogawa Ranpo. The French-style standalone villa remained utterly quiet.
He glanced at his phone again and said with some difficulty, "If anything happens… he'll call me, right?"
After all, he was not the kind of man who would stand by and watch someone die.
With a heart full of confusion, lingering regret, and an indescribable discomfort, Fukuzawa Yukichi stayed for another hour before slowly walking away.
The lonely Silver Wolf, deep down, still had no desire to form bonds that ran too deep with others.
Even if… he felt a faint twinge of guilt.
Inside the villa, Edogawa Ranpo sat curled up on the sofa, wrapped in a soft woolen blanket, his shoes kicked off. His expression was a little listless as he cradled a cup of hot milk that a maid had just brought him.
Ranpo was far smarter than anyone imagined—how could he possibly have failed to notice that someone was tailing him? When he went into the snack shop, that silver-haired uncle refused to follow him inside and wouldn't even pay for his treats! When he wandered into the toy store, that same silver-haired uncle would rather hide behind a giant teddy bear outside than come within ten meters of him! Detestable adult! Rich, kindhearted, acquainted with his father, and yet unwilling to sponsor a poor, pitiful cat!
He would never forgive him!
Protecting him from behind didn't count for anything either—protection without money was freeloading!
—You'll never have a cat. Not in this lifetime!
"My name is Catherine Boz, from France." Catherine looked at the Japanese boy with gentle affection. Compared to children her age back home, he seemed much smaller, like a kitten just weaned from milk. "My Japanese is passable, so we can talk. What is your name? And why did you suddenly come looking for me?"
"I get it already—no need to say more." Ranpo finished his milk, licked the corner of his lips, and visibly perked up after settling into a new environment. A cat never admitted defeat. "Big sister has money and is willing to take me in, so I came to you."
Catherine was struck straight in the heart by this unfiltered, catlike honesty. It had been a long time since she'd heard words so frank and unguarded.
She completely forgot one thing, however—
If an adult man said the same thing, it would simply be called shameless.
"Do you know me?" Catherine asked, managing to squeeze in another question before being entirely swept away by the boy's cuteness.
"I've seen you before," Ranpo replied impatiently, not wanting to answer so many questions. "On that street—I even delivered a letter to you once, didn't I? Let me make this clear first: I'm not here to sell myself, and don't even think about having a romance with a minor. I'm just short on some snacks. If you're willing, I'll stay here for a week."
Catherine was nearly overwhelmed by the rapid-fire barrage of words, and finally said decisively, "All right. That's fine."
Edogawa Ranpo smiled at her, and the vitality returned to his emerald-green eyes as he immediately began surveying the villa's layout from every angle.
Smug cat grin.jpg.
No one could resist his shameless collision tactics—no one!
"Big sister, I want to sleep in the big room upstairs on the left! I want one of the giant dolls you just bought! I didn't eat dinner, and I want something tasty for a late-night snack—three bowls of red bean mochi!"
"Sure. Big sister will eat with you."
Catherine clasped her cheeks in delight, keenly sensing just how far beyond the ordinary this boy was.
This… how did he know the layout of her home, and that she had bought a white bear plush nearly as tall as a person earlier today?
"Little brother, what's your name? Won't your guardians come looking for you?"
"My name is Edogawa Ranpo!"
After Catherine agreed to all his demands, the black-haired boy finally deigned to answer her properly, clearly in high spirits.
His smile shone brightly.
"Guardians? They've gone traveling and told me to fend for myself!"
Meanwhile, at the hot spring resort, Randou—on a hot spring trip with his lover—felt utterly at ease, his skin warm, his bones steeped in languor. He clung to Asou Akiya's side like a life-sized doll, gently rubbing against him.
"So comfortable, Akiya."
"..."
Asou Akiya felt the pressure mounting like a mountain on his shoulders and reached out to neaten the open collar of Randou's yukata.
Randou breathed hotly against his ear, his voice low and teasing. "Is this our date… or our honeymoon?"
Asou Akiya smiled faintly. "It's a trip."
Randou said softly, "Akiya, who's always so sweet with his words, suddenly doesn't know what to say anymore."
The French beauty shared the bed with him and voiced his complaint with pointed implication, his body winding closer and closer, his legs burning with heat, yet he did not take the initiative to cross the final line.
Asou Akiya knew all too well the restlessness that seized Randou after a soak in the hot springs—it was no different from a French cat after a bath, one that needed its fur dried, a few kisses and embraces, before it could finally settle down to sleep. He pressed a kiss to his lover's moist neck, lightly nipped at the prominent hollow of his throat, and traced his way downward amid the soft rustle of clothing, indulging Randou's desires within the tatami-lined Japanese room.
"All right, all right, I'll take care of it."
...
Ranpo, you're staying with Mr. Fukuzawa right now, aren't you?
Remember what I taught you—if you want to get a cat owner to give in, the trick is to soften their heart until they can't do anything about you. You see… the Randou I'm raising learned very quickly. Of course, I only hope you end up with a daddy-cat-and-kitten kind of relationship.
Good night.
Sweet dreams.
When we get home, I'll spoil you properly—buy you all kinds of food and toys—so don't miss us too much while we're traveling.
—Your guardian, who is working very hard at raising a French cat.