"Where is Ranpo?"
A text message from an unfamiliar number appeared on Asou Akiya's phone, the contact icon a small cat paw print.
Still basking in the afterglow of being thoroughly charmed that morning, Asou Akiya replied happily:
[Probably with Mr. Fukuzawa.]
Unexpectedly, Natsume Souseki replied with a single, razor-sharp character.
[Heh.]
Asou Akiya snapped fully awake.
What was that supposed to mean?
Was Mr. Natsume mocking him all of a sudden? Or did that heh somehow convey amusement or satisfaction?
Uneasy, Asou Akiya sent another message:
[Mr. Fukuzawa is extremely capable in combat, decisive and iron-willed. He's a well-known lone wolf and bodyguard in the underworld. I think he's very suitable to protect Ranpo.]
Natsume Souseki replied:
[Mm. I understand.]
After that, Natsume Souseki no longer paid any attention to Asou Akiya, who had vanished off to Hakone. Instead, he turned his full attention to closely observing Edogawa Ranpo and Fukuzawa Yukichi. He was not the sort of guardian who left a child to fend for himself. Once he had identified someone as a diamond, he would watch their growth with meticulous care and provide proper guidance from the sidelines.
And as for how he viewed Asou Akiya—
"Even if you started out as a fake diamond, you've already turned into a pink diamond or a yellow diamond!"
Indulging in beauty was a dangerous indulgence. A true powerhouse, after all, was destined to remain single!
Natsume Souseki reverted to his calico cat form. After confirming where Edogawa Ranpo had taken shelter, the cat crouched along Fukuzawa Yukichi's usual route home, letting the wind ruffle its fur as its whiskers trembled slightly, its gaze distant and profound—like a creature that had already seen through the truths of an entire feline lifetime.
Forever the undisputed top boss of the feline world.jpg
Don't ask. If you ask, the answer is simply this: you can't pet him. Only a pure-hearted, beautiful little girl is qualified.
At the private hot spring resort in Hakone, the two who had spent the night together finally woke up. Sprawled bonelessly across the tatami, Asou Akiya turned his head to look at Randou. Randou blinked once and said calmly, "Go on. What is it?"
Asou Akiya said, "I feel like Mr. Natsume was scolding me… but at the same time, it feels like he was praising me."
After reading through the messages for him, Randou offered an answer grounded firmly in French logic: "He must have been praising you. If he wanted to scold you, he would have just directly called you an idiot."
Asou Akiya immediately felt at ease. He pulled his lover into his arms and said, "Good morning, my dear. Shall we go sightseeing later?"
Randou replied sweetly, voice thick with affection, "Let's go shopping instead~."
Asou Akiya fell instantly. "Sure! Use my card however you like, let's buy everything—!"
What was the greatest investment of his life?
Spending money to support Randou now, so that in the future Arthur Rimbaud would be waiting for him in bed!
My wife is amazing!
A ringing phone abruptly pierced through Asou Akiya's lovestruck bliss. He glanced at the incoming number—one he vaguely remembered from one or two past calls—then recalled what he had done before. He had invested in a theater, contacted its manager to secure two VIP audience seats, and incidentally involved himself in the theater's internal affairs.
Having completed all of that remotely, the black-haired young man regained his usual composed air, the kind that kept schemes carefully folded away in his heart. His fingers idly twined around Randou's long hair, winding it around once, then again, as he said gently, "Randou, let's go shopping during the day, and tonight we'll go see a play. The first performance at the Theatrum Mundi starts at eight."
Randou's brow lifted slightly.
Was this man starting a new round of "performance" again—this time inviting him to go watch a stage play together?
"Is that play really so good?" Randou asked, his words carrying a double meaning as he demanded spoilers. "Going back to Yokohama will take quite a while by car. We have hot springs here in Hakone, you know—and no one else to disturb us."
Asou Akiya almost lost his self-control. His wife acting coquettish was enough to make him toss all his carefully laid plans straight out of his mind.
"The play… should be pretty decent, I guess."
Not daring to boast, Asou Akiya followed Randou's lead and coaxed him gently. "There are special abilities involved, and murder cases too—angels, divine judgment, all kinds of religious elements mixed with reasoning and deduction. It has a bit of everything."
Listening to this chaotic assortment of descriptions, Randou remained unimpressed. "I don't believe in religion. Is it a script you wrote, Akiya?"
The gaze of the French beauty was filled with silent accusation—your ability to introduce things is truly terrible.
"More or less," Asou Akiya replied awkwardly. "Didn't I mention going to see a play with you last time?" Left with no other choice, he claimed part of the credit as the theater's playwright, though in truth the script had very little to do with him; what he handled were the delicate adjustments behind the scenes, outside the stage itself.
"Did that really happen?" Randou never remembered conversations held while chatting in bed. Hearing Akiya say it so confidently, he relented with mild reluctance. "Answer the phone, then. Even if you changed it to a piano ringtone, it's still far too noisy."
Asou Akiya did not mind leaving the call unanswered for several minutes. He said indulgently, "This is the piano Randou played for me. Once it was recorded, I never get tired of listening to it, no matter how many times."
Randou traced a finger along Akiya's lips, his hands long and elegant, like those of an artist.
"I can play for you every day," he said softly. "Don't look at me like that. Don't we have plenty of time ahead of us?"
"Mm."
Asou Akiya answered with unmistakable affection.
He had been paying attention to the new production at the "Theatrum Mundi" for a very long time now.
Once the advance ticket sales for the play themed around "angels" were announced, he immediately sought out a professional intermediary and invested in the theater, resolving its difficulties with cash flow and understaffing. He did not interfere with the theater's daily operations at all; he asked for only one thing—if any crisis arose that was serious enough to affect the theater's long-term development, they were required to call him first to discuss the next steps.
His investment in the theater was never about profit. It was meant to use this opportunity to forge the bond between Fukuzawa Yukichi and Edogawa Ranpo.
The butterfly effect of the plot had already begun to influence the future. The play had originally been scheduled to premiere yesterday, on the very same day as the female president's death, but due to the playwright's wavering inspiration, the actors' rehearsal issues—or perhaps the simple fact that, once funds were no longer tight, there was no longer any reason to rush—the premiere was postponed by one day.
Asou Akiya did not force the theater to adhere to the original timeline of the source material, because that would have been the behavior of a control freak. Besides, all things in the world followed their own laws; what appeared to be a sudden "change" was often the result of countless small accumulations over time.
Mori Ougai's idea of the "optimal solution" was to keep the entire plot firmly in his grasp.
Asou Akiya's approach, however, was to move with fate itself—no matter how many variables arose, he would seize only what truly mattered.
The core—
The V Organization.
Natsume Souseki.
Fukuzawa Yukichi.
Edogawa Ranpo!
These were the truly crucial pieces.
He answered the phone unhurriedly, showing no surprise at all as the female manager delivered her anxious, uneasy report about a murder notice:
"Mr. Asou, this morning our theater received a letter. It appears to be a notice predicting a murder."
Asou Akiya asked calmly, "What exactly does it say?"
The female manager replied in a strangely hesitant tone, "In its literal meaning… it says that an angel will kill an actor."
Murder was nothing new to Asou Akiya. One had to admit that the Port Mafia was an excellent place to toughen a person up. He responded methodically, without the slightest panic.
"It sounds like a prank, but when lives are involved, we can't be careless. First, conduct your own inspection of the props and the venue to ensure everyone's safety. Also, ask the actors whether they have any personal grudges—murders usually have motives, after all. …Follow my advice. Report it to the police this afternoon and let them handle it. I have a bit of influence within the police."
The female manager, sharp as ever, asked, "Why wait until the afternoon?"
[Because only in the afternoon will I have finished shopping with Randou, and be free to deal with your little problem.]
Asou Akiya complained inwardly, yet kept a faint smile on his face. Even while on the phone, he instinctively wrapped himself in a layer of disguise. "If you report it to the police too early, the city police won't take it very seriously. What if they just do a cursory inspection and leave? Who will guarantee the safety of the actors and the audience then?"
Hearing this, the female manager accepted his reasoning. "That's true. The city police are short-staffed right now, and our new play starts in the evening. Mr. Asou, would you be able to arrange for the city police to provide protection for us tonight?"
Asou Akiya replied perfunctorily, "They will. The city police will come and protect you."
The female manager politely asked when he would arrive, finalized the time, and informed him that a VIP audience section had already been prepared, ensuring that during the performance he would not be seated among the general audience.
Asou Akiya trusted women to be meticulous in such matters and handed everything over to her without further concern.
Ten minutes later, Asou Akiya finally shed the public-relations smile he had been wearing. There was a faint itch in his abdomen; when he lowered his head, he saw that it was Randou's hand, gently tracing the area of his wound. The once-terrifying gunshot injury had scabbed over and healed for the most part within just over twenty days, leaving only a mark behind. There was no longer any need to wrap it in gauze.
This body's self-healing ability was impressive—worthy of someone who belonged to the Mafia of this world.
"Randou," Asou Akiya murmured, his voice soft with affection.
"It's a little ugly," Randou stated bluntly, striking a clean blow to Asou Akiya's heart.
"I'll find a way to get rid of it," Asou Akiya said gloomily. Randou continued to caress his lover and added, "The Akiya who talks to outsiders is too fake, and honestly, rather frightening. I prefer the real Akiya you are now."
Feeling wronged, Asou Akiya protested, "How am I frightening?"
What's frightening are you Transcendents!
Randou replied with righteous confidence, "You're tricking people again."
Asou Akiya let out a laugh. "No—no, I swear I'm not tricking anyone. This time it's to save someone!"
Randou did not believe him. "And who are you saving? Those actors in the theater?"
The kindhearted investor, Asou Akiya, lay flat on his back, letting the other man toy with his stomach as he stretched lazily. Time off was truly blissful; if only he didn't have to go back next month to grind himself to the bone like a corporate slave.
"The one I'm saving is a little kitten," Asou Akiya said. "The one in our home needs someone to guide it." His long, narrow eyes squinted slightly, still carrying the watery traces of having woken up too early, dampening his lashes. "The actors won't die. It's just a farce."
As for this country's future, as for the strangers of this country, he did not particularly care. He deliberately kept a distance between himself and them. The only ones he would take the initiative to care about were those vivid, extraordinary figures.
Hadn't he said it before?
His true nature—was that of a strength-worshipping, self-interested egoist.
On the streets of Yokohama, there were not many pedestrians coming and going yet. Fukuzawa Yukichi had slept poorly through the night and gone out early that morning, only to find himself wandering the main road, unsure how to deal with the problem that had been troubling him.
"There's a cat…" Fukuzawa Yukichi noticed a calico cat crouched by the roadside, looking straight at him.
To be watched by a cat—how blissful that felt.
Could he have a cat?
Winter had not yet fully descended, yet Fukuzawa Yukichi, already longing for spring, forcibly restrained his excitement. Instinctively, he employed techniques from "ancient martial arts," concealing the sound of his footsteps and the presence of a human, doing everything he could to reduce the chance of frightening the cat away.
The calico cat's gaze followed his movements, shifting from level to upward, quietly watching his approach.
For some reason, Fukuzawa Yukichi felt he saw "disdain" in the cat's eyes. Impossible—fake! How could a cat disdain him? Any cat that truly disdained him would never appear within his field of vision in the first place!
"Would you like to eat?"
Fukuzawa Yukichi, a little embarrassed, pulled out some dried fish—still the same piece from yesterday.
"..."
The calico cat ignored his attempt to curry favor, lifting its hind leg to scratch behind its ear, then even letting out a lazy yawn.
"So you won't eat it… then may I touch you?"
Fukuzawa Yukichi was, by any standard, a courteous man. His attitude toward the cat was gentle, far gentler than his tough, hard-edged appearance would suggest. A little girl passing by couldn't help covering her mouth and laughing at the sight.
Seeing that the cat did not object, Fukuzawa Yukichi gathered his courage and reached out to touch the calico's head.
His hand was just about to land on the soft fur—
"Swish!"
The calico cat's sharp claws shot out from its padded paw, and in the blink of an eye it delivered a vicious, lightning-fast feline punch.
"Ah—!" Fukuzawa Yukichi, who had tried to pet cats for years, finally met his downfall. One of the government's famed "Five Swords," the Silver Wolf himself, had failed to evade the attack of a single calico cat!
[Still want to pet a cat?]
[I handed you a precious black cat and you still let him slip away—and even let him be kept by a French lady!]
[Fukuzawa Yukichi, don't even think about raising a cat until you bring Ranpo back!]
The calico cat leapt up to higher ground, casting down a contemptuous, masterly glance. Its tail flicked once as it strutted away, bold and unhurried.
Three fresh claw marks now marred Fukuzawa Yukichi's face, ruining his looks.
"…This…"
The silver-haired man touched his face expressionlessly, though no one could see the tears silently streaming inside his heart.
"It must have been a cat's way of showing affection."
After all, he had never once been scratched so intimately by a cat.
At a small clinic in Yokohama, yet another adult in need of rabies shots was received. The patient sat calmly in the injection chair, the edges of his short silver hair slightly tousled and sticking out, dressed in an impeccably neat kimono, stiff and old-fashioned like a samurai from a bygone era—if he had been wearing a long sword at his waist, the resemblance would have been complete.
Mori Ougai took out the rabies vaccine, glanced at the wounds on the man's face, and felt an inexplicable sense of familiarity.
"About how much did that cat weigh?"
From now on, he would definitely keep his distance from cats that dangerous.
"…Its weight? I didn't hold it. Probably over ten jin. It was a calico stray on the street." Fukuzawa Yukichi answered coldly, looking at the doctor. He scrutinized the young physician who gave him an unsettling feeling and felt a trace of regret for coming to this unlicensed clinic. Which acquaintance had recommended this place to him, anyway? Supposedly—it guaranteed privacy and no information leaks?
Before Fukuzawa Yukichi could stand up and leave, Mori Ougai pressed down on the patient's tensed body and administered the injection with practiced ease.
"Don't be afraid. It's just a few rabies shots. Since you're already here, let me at least make a bit of money."
Isn't that right?
The government's "Silver Wolf."
Tsk, tsk—who would have thought you were a cat lover, yet couldn't even manage to hold a single calico stray.