#no longer current state of bsd manga

[circusofshrimps]

1 year ago i drew my most iconic post. I never expected my shitty doodle to be so popular with you all, so i redrew it. Like this one instead

Og post here

Bonus:

[silvfyre-writings]

Fukuzawa Becomes a Dad (BSD Fanfic)

So uh, hi, I never thought I'd be writing a fic for BSD in my life considering I have not read the manga and I usually make it my personal policy to not write fics when I'm not up to date, cause ya know, important things I don't know. But then I binge watched the anime, and fell in love with the dynamic between Fukuzawa and Ranpo (season 4's beginning made me feeeeeel) and so I wrote this. In 4 days.

Word Count: 12,927

Fukuzawa had gone to work that day, expecting to complete his job as a bodyguard, just as he’d always done without any problems. It had been a windy day, and his client had been murdered, but that was okay; these things happened and even he failed at his job sometimes.

What he hadn’t expected was the unpredictable whirlwind that was Edogawa Ranpo. The fourteen-year-old orphan had quickly latched onto Fukuzawa’s presence—despite his best efforts to deter said boy—and Fukuzawa found himself being dragged through one of the most eventful nights of his life in a long time.

A long time.

And he was tired.

Fukuzawa let out a sigh, lifting one hand to rest it on top of Ranpo’s head, the boys’ tears and muffled apologies never ending, almost as if the poor boy thought that Fukuzawa was going to up and abandon him like everyone else had. Fukuzawa ran his hand through the choppy strands of black hair, ignoring the way Ranpo’s cries grew stronger at the motion. It was clear to him that it was no longer about the scolding he’d given the boy, nor was it about the close brush with death he’d just experienced; it was something much deeper, something that Fukuzawa didn’t quite understand because he didn’t yet understand Ranpo.

But he wasn’t one to just ignore a crying child, so he patiently stood there, letting Ranpo cling to him and sob into his chest, doing his best to ignore how damp his yukata was becoming, tears and snot melding together with the fabric. He’d just have to throw them in the wash when he got home.

Home.

Something that Ranpo didn’t have the luxury of, Fukuzawa remembered. He recalled what Ranpo had told him back at the café, a morning that seemed so long ago now, about the death of his parents, the jobs he’d had and subsequently been fired from, and everything else that had gone wrong in his life since coming to Yokohama.

“I have nowhere to go.”

Fukuzawa let out another sigh, the noise producing a whimper from Ranpo, small arms tightening their grip on him. A few tears still leaked from the boys eyes, but it looked as if the worst of the breakdown was over, yet Ranpo still kept his face buried in his chest, unmoving, and clearly waiting for the silence to be broken—or for Fukuzawa to just toss him away like a piece of trash, which Fukuzawa had no intention of doing. It was hard to tell what Ranpo was thinking normally, let alone in the current situation. He didn’t know if he should offer words of comfort, or if he should just keep quiet and let Ranpo sort through his emotions on his own. In the end, he chose to keep silent; words weren’t really his forte to begin with, and Ranpo was already in a fragile enough state.

The grip on the back of his yukata loosened, and Fukuzawa waited for Ranpo to pull away, only have the boy slump against him, his honed reflexes the only reason that Ranpo didn’t fall straight to the ground. Fukuzawa frowned, his heart beating faster because had Ranpo been injured and he hadn’t realized? He brushed back Ranpo’s bangs, the motion enough to coax Ranpo into looking up at him with half-lidded eyes, and splotchy cheeks.

“Tired…” Ranpo murmured, dropping his head again.

Fukuzawa nodded even though it wouldn’t be seen. “Alright. Let’s go then.”

“… nowhere to go.”

“You can stay with me tonight. We’ll work out things in the morning.” Fukuzawa said, dropping down so that he could lift Ranpo into his arms easier. It was strange, an action Fukuzawa had never seen himself performing, yet in the moment, it felt right. Ranpo’s arms draped over his shoulders, and his head came to rest in the crook of his neck. There were no protests from Ranpo at being treated like a small child, and a quick glance showed that the boy had already closed his eyes.

Fukuzawa sighed once again, this time with no response from Ranpo, and carefully maneuvered the both of them so that he could pick up the fallen glasses he’d given Ranpo, and also Ranpo’s hat. Once both items were secured, he turned and left the room, knowing that the moment he stepped outside of the building, his life wouldn’t be the same again.

The next problem came in the form of Fukuzawa’s apartment itself; a simple one bedroom, one bathroom accommodation that was more than suitable for himself and his few belongings, but most certainly not suitable for a growing teenage boy—if Ranpo ended up staying with him long term in the end. Still, it would do for tonight at least, and then, after talking to Ranpo, he could look into other options. Quietly, Fukuzawa opened the door, even though he needn’t have bothered, for Ranpo hadn’t moved an inch since he’d fallen asleep in Fukuzawa’s arms. It was just another sign that the boy was thoroughly exhausted—as if the patch of drool dampening his collar wasn’t enough of an indicator.

Thank god for washing machines.

Once inside, Fukuzawa kicked off his sandals, and dropped Ranpo’s hat and glasses onto the table in the entryway, before pulling the sleeping boy’s own shoes off and dropping them to the ground. How he managed to succeed without waking Ranpo—or dropping him—Fukuzawa didn’t know, and wouldn’t question. He was a skilled swordsman, a former assassin, and a well accomplished body guard; he didn’t drop things. However, carrying a sword, or a person over his shoulder was another thing entirely when compared to carrying a sleeping teen like he was still a toddler. Not that Ranpo was particularly tall for his age; in fact, he was rather on the small side. Yet still very much a child.

A child that had had a gun pointed at his head not even an hour ago.

Fukuzawa couldn’t stop the shudder from running through him at the memory. A gun. Pointed at a fourteen-year-old boy. If Fukuzawa had been even one second too late, Ranpo would’ve died, a horrifying sight to imagine, and something that the genius child hadn’t seemed to understand at the time until Fukuzawa had slapped some sense into him… behaviour that he truly regretted now. It was never right to raise a hand to a child, not even one as frustrating as Ranpo. Even if it had gotten his point across in the end, it very well could’ve damaged the tentative trust that Ranpo had placed in him, and driven the boy away from him instead of towards.

What am I going to do with you? Fukuzawa thought, stepping silently through his home towards his room. Tonight, Ranpo could sleep on his futon whilst Fukuzawa took the couch. He eyed the couch distastefully; it was a truly horrid thing—barely even a couch. But it had been cheap and provided something for him to sit and work on, and that was all that had mattered at the time when he’d purchased it. Tomorrow, he could look into getting a second futon and clearing some space so that Ranpo had somewhere at least.

It took far longer than it should’ve to get Ranpo settled, the boy subconsciously clinging to him when he’d tried to lay him on the futon, refusing to uncurl his fist from where he clutched desperately at Fukuzawa’s yukata. But finally, he succeeded, and he pulled the blanket over Ranpo’s sleeping form before leaving the room—leaving the door slightly ajar just in case the boy needed him during the night—and making himself as comfortable as possible on the couch.

It was going to be a long night.

“Fukuzawa-san… Fukuzawa-san… Fuku—”

“What, Ranpo?” Fukuzawa said, trying his best to keep the irritation out of his voice, even though he wanted nothing more than to tie Ranpo to a pole and leave him there just to get a few hours of quiet.

Which he wouldn’t do, because he’d promised Ranpo he’d take care of him.

But he could dream.

“I’m hungry.”

This time, Fukuzawa couldn’t stop the irritated huff from slipping through. Not that it seemed to bother Ranpo in the slightest. “You just ate.”

“Yeah, but, I’m hungry.” Ranpo repeated as if saying the same thing again was going to elicit a different response. As if being as annoying a humanly possible was going to make Fukuzawa cave and let him have his way, when Fukuzawa knew exactly what it was that Ranpo wanted from him.

He wasn’t going to give in.

He wasn’t going to give in.

He was—

“… there’s a bakery up ahead. We can get something there.”—going to give in. Damn, he was getting soft. It had only been a month since Ranpo had come into his care, even though it felt much, much, longer. If anyone from the time he had wielded his sword could see him now, he guaranteed that they wouldn’t recognize him one bit in his current state. Hell, there were times where he couldn’t recognize himself either, and if anyone had ever told him he’d be trading his sword in for a child, he’d have laughed at them. Yet here he was, without a sword, and a child following behind him.

But as Ranpo beamed at him, throwing his arms into the air at his victory as he dashed ahead to the bakery in question, Fukuzawa could do nothing but shake his head fondly at the antics. In just a month; a singular month, Ranpo had managed to weasel himself into Fukuzawa’s life as if he’d always been a part of it, eating all his food and emptying his wallet like it was his own. The intelligence that the boy pertained was truly remarkable; the way he could simply look at a crime scene and deduce who the killer was and how, almost instantaneously, was always jaw dropping to see. And it wasn’t just the mysteries of crime scenes either; anything with a plot hidden behind closed doors wasn’t safe. Which of course meant that trying to entertain Ranpo with movies or books was pointless; the boy had already figured out the plot within the first five minutes. The best Fukuzawa had been able to do was keep up a steady pile of snacks and sweets for Ranpo to eat so he didn’t spoil the experiences for everyone around him.

Needless to say, Fukuzawa was soon to be out of a job, since Ranpo kept solving the cases of the people he was hired to protect. Not that he was overly bothered by that fact, since it meant he could turn his focus towards the brief idea that he’d had back at the theatre that day; of a—

“Fukuzawa-san.” Ranpo’s voice ended his train of thought and he blinked down at the boy. They were standing out the front of the bakery, Ranpo tilting his head to the side. “You’re thinking too hard.”

“It need not concern you.” Fukuzawa said, for right now, Ranpo truly didn’t need to worry about what he was thinking. “Hurry up and pick something out, we have a job to get to.”

“You mean, I have a job, right?” Ranpo asked.

“Yes, Ranpo, you have the job. I am merely your protection.” Fukuzawa sighed, already pulling his wallet out as Ranpo began to list off the obnoxious number of sweets he wanted. I should just buy the bakery at this point.

“Ha! Did you see that woman’s face when called her out? She really should’ve thought it through better if she didn’t want to get caught. Even a pre-schooler could’ve figured it out!” Fukuzawa was half-listening to Ranpo ramble about the woman he’d just gotten arrested for murdering her best friend, a murder that a pre-schooler most certainly could not have solved. Not that Ranpo seemed to understand that it was only him that had been able to see the truth in the end; not even the police had been able to figure it out properly, most of them still looking confused about what had just happened, yet accepting Ranpo’s words for what they were. Just another day with Ranpo. Fukuzawa hadn’t even been needed, only tagging along in the first place to make sure that Ranpo didn’t get lost, and that no one targeted the boy.

He'd tried teaching Ranpo some defensive moves not long after taking the boy in, but his efforts were in vain. Ranpo had about as much fight sense as a newborn calf, and after a fall that had nearly broken his nose, Fukuzawa had simply resigned himself to protecting Ranpo himself.

Which had been so far successful; touch wood.

“You did well, Ranpo.” Fukuzawa praised, dipping his head in acknowledgement.

Ranpo’s face lit up. “Do I get a reward?”

“You’ll have to wait until you get paid, I’m afraid, unless you want to be eating dust for dinner.” Fukuzawa said, his words a reminder that their funds were stretched a bit thin at the moment, on account of moving into a bigger home; still small by most people’s standards, it gave Ranpo his own room and that was the main thing.

Ranpo’s face fell. “Oh. We shouldn’t have moved then.”

Fukuzawa sighed. “You needed your own space, Ranpo, the old place was too small for us both to reside in long term. And you like the new place.” Left unsaid was the fact that Fukuzawa himself had wanted a room of his own again, since Ranpo had refused to sleep on the couch after doing it for just one night; something that he didn’t really blame the boy for doing. It truly had been an awful couch.

Mostly, Fukuzawa just wanted some privacy.

There was nothing more terrifying than waking up to a face inches away from his own, loudly demanding breakfast before he starved to death.

“Yeah, but like, I’ll die without my snacks.” Ranpo complained, looking around the street as they walked, eyes open for a change. “Are you sure we can’t get just one thing?”

It’s a trap. Fukuzawa thought, refusing to give in to Ranpo’s pleas. “No, Ranpo, we have food at home. You’ll just have to wait until we get back.”

Ranpo groaned, throwing his head back dramatically, mouth open with a complaint on the tip of his tongue. Fukuzawa waited for the begging and whining to begin when suddenly, something caught Ranpo’s attention, the boy coming to a stop. Pausing beside his ward, Fukuzawa stared at Ranpo, wondering just what was going through the boy’s mind when he sprinted towards the stairs that led to a street that Fukuzawa knew, had a sweet shop on it, calling over his shoulder. “At least let me look!”

“Ranpo, wait!” Fukuzawa called, watching as time seemed to slow around him.

Ranpo tripped at the top of the stairs before he could stop himself.

Fukuzawa lunged towards Ranpo, hand outstretched, even as he knew he wouldn’t make it in time, watching as Ranpo disappeared from view. “Ranpo!” He came to a stop at the top of the stairs, watching as Ranpo tumbled down the stairs, coming to a halt at the platform halfway down. Fukuzawa stared, heart pounding in his chest as Ranpo lay there, green eyes wide as they looked up at him. He’s fine, he’s fine, probably just a little winded. He’s fine, he’s—

Ranpo wailed.

—not fine. Fukuzawa flew down the remaining stairs, falling into a crouch beside Ranpo as the boy curled up into a ball. Tears were falling from Ranpo’s eyes at an alarming pace, his body shaking with each sob, and one arm was being held protectively by the other. These tears were not like the ones from that night where Fukuzawa had scolded his charge, no, these were the kind of tears that came when one was hurting, and hurting bad. Fukuzawa ran his eyes over Ranpo’s body, scanning for any signs of blood, and thankful when he found none. Still, it had been a bad fall, and Ranpo very much could’ve hit his head on the way down. He rested a hand on Ranpo’s shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze to try and encourage the boy to look at him. "Ranpo, can you tell me if you hit your head?”

Ranpo only cried even harder.

A little bit of panic seeped into Fukuzawa’s being, along with discomfort as a crowd began to form around the two of them; said crowd no doubt causing Ranpo even more distress as the muttered and whispered amongst each other. Not one person stepped forward to offer assistance. “Tch.” Injuries weren’t something that Fukuzawa was accustomed to dealing with, since most of the time, injuries received in his line of work—and previous occupations—were fatal. This was all new territory to him, and for once, he didn’t know what to do.

Stop. Breathe. Think. It was obvious that Ranpo had hurt himself bad, considering that any attempt Fukuzawa made to soothe the boy was met with more wailing. The way that Ranpo was cradling his arm was a pretty clear indicator that that was the source of his pain, although Fukuzawa couldn’t see anything immediately wrong with the limb. But just because he couldn’t see anything didn’t mean that there wasn’t something wrong with it. Broken bones were quite the invisible enemy—aside from when they obviously weren’t—and Ranpo’s fall certainly could’ve broken something.

“Sir, do you need an ambulance?” An elderly gentleman broke free of the crowd, coming to crouch beside Fukuzawa.

“No.” Fukuzawa said, even though he was one second away from dialling the number himself. Yes, Ranpo needed the hospital, but Fukuzawa could get him there himself, just so long as he was careful. “I’m going to take him to the hospital now.”

“Would you like a ride then, sir? My car is just parked at the bottom. You’ll get there quicker.” The old man offered.

It only took a second for Fukuzawa to come to a decision.

“That would be appreciated, thank you.”

Fukuzawa watched with careful eyes as the doctor carefully manipulated Ranpo’s arm into the desired position for a cast; Ranpo leaning heavily against him, staring unseeingly at the floor. The drive to the hospital had been fast, as the gentleman had promised, but also stressful as Ranpo had cried the whole way, his face buried into Fukuzawa’s chest. No words had been said, but none needed to be. It was obvious that Ranpo was frightened about what had happened, and wasn’t quite sure what was going to happen next. All Fukuzawa could do in that moment was hold Ranpo close and wipe away his tears as they fell.

The verdict had been a broken arm—specifically, a broken elbow and a snapped wrist.

The doctor had called Ranpo lucky, after hearing about the fall that had caused the injury, telling Fukuzawa that while the breaks were bad, there was no need for surgery. A small win, in the grand scheme of things, although the news had still been upsetting to Ranpo. Thankfully, all that was needed was a cast to protect the injured limb, and many weeks of rest, which hopefully, Fukuzawa would be able to convince Ranpo to do.

But first they needed to actually get out of the hospital.

By the time the doctors had finished with all the scans and x-rays, Ranpo had stopped crying—which reminded Fukuzawa that he needed to apologize to the poor reception staff that had to deal with Ranpo’s loud cries in the emergency room as he’d dashed through the doors—but when the doctor had come by to wrap Ranpo’s arm, grabbing it gently, Ranpo had flinched. Hard. Which of course, jostled his broken arm, and the cries that had followed were deafening, and no amount of soothing and reassurances had been enough to get Ranpo calm enough to allow the doctor to finish the job.

Eventually, after several failed attempts, the doctor had resorted to giving Ranpo a mild sedative, leading them to their current situation. Fukuzawa had one arm wrapped around Ranpo’s waist, so that the boy didn’t fall off the bed, and his other hand was soothingly running through black hair. Ranpo didn’t seem to be aware of his surroundings, but whether that was the shock running through him or the sedative, Fukuzawa couldn’t tell. Either way, it was a small mercy if it meant that there would be no more tears.

“I just need to grab the supplies from the next room. Can you hold his arm there for me?” The doctor said, waiting for Fukuzawa’s hand to replace his own before leaving the room, returning seconds later like he’d promised and got to work. “In a week, you’ll need to come back so we can see how the bones are healing, and that’s when we’ll replace this cast with something a little more colorful if that’s what young Ranpo would like.”

Fukuzawa nodded, making a mental note to remember to return. “Worst case scenario?”

“Worst case is that the bones are showing signs of healing incorrectly, which means we would have to perform surgery to correct it.” The doctor explained. “It’s not a life-threatening surgery by all means, but it does mean a longer recovery time. But it’s only a small number of cases that are worst case. I’m confident that the arm will mend itself properly.”

“Thank you.” Fukuzawa said. “And, apologies for the disturbance we caused in the waiting room.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that. He’s not the first kid that’s come through screaming like a banshee with a broken limb, and he won’t be the last. Is this his first break?”

“I believe so. He came into my care just last month.” Fukuzawa wanted to argue that Ranpo had not been screaming like a banshee, but the argument soon died on his lips when he realized that while no, Ranpo had not been screaming, he had certainly been loud enough for the comparison to be made. It had almost been enough to make Fukuzawa turn around and try to treat the injury himself.

The doctor nodded, letting the silence grow in favour of completing his work as fast as possible; probably before Ranpo’s awareness returned. Fukuzawa was content to watch the process, although as the cast took shape, he couldn’t help but frown. It didn’t look very comfortable. “This is my first time dealing with such an injury. Is there anything I should know?” He asked.

The doctor hummed. “Well, don’t let it get wet. If it does need to go near water, then wrap it in some plastic—just make sure it’s watertight. And I’d keep something long and thin on hand as well. Casts can make the wearers rather itchy. Most people use knitting needles I’ve found, although a ruler works just as well. And obviously, don’t let him use the arm, even if he says it doesn’t hurt.”

Fukuzawa nodded, filing the information away for later. He certainly didn’t have any knitting needles at home, but he was sure he had a ruler somewhere in his home that Ranpo would be able to use.

“Fukuzawa-san?” Ranpo’s hoarse voice had him looking down into eyes that were slowly filling with tears again. Oh no. “It hurts.”

“I know, Ranpo, I know.” Fukuzawa ran a hand up and down Ranpo’s back, hoping to soothe him a little before the crying could start up again. “We’ll be home soon, and then you can rest.” He turned his attention to the doctor. “Is he allowed painkillers?”

The doctor nodded. “Over the counter medicine is fine, but we’ll send you home with something a little stronger just for the first couple of days.”

“Can I go home yet…?” Ranpo asked, a sniffle accompanying his words.

“Yep! I’ll all done, kiddo, so I’ll draw up the paperwork and then you can head home. Get plenty of rest, and no more running near stairs, eh?”

The doctors’ words drew a weak and watery smile from Ranpo, and the boy nodded. “Okay.”

“Six weeks? What am I going to do for six whole weeks?” Ranpo complained, currently attacking the cast on his arm with some markers that Fukuzawa had bought on the way home. Apparently the white colour of the cast was offensive, but to whom, Fukuzawa had no idea, and he had no plans of asking; simply following Ranpo’s directions into buying something colourful to put on the cast. He was just glad that Ranpo was feeling well enough to complain about his situation, the painkillers the doctor had given him before they’d left doing their job. Ranpo suddenly looked up at him. “I can still work, right? It’s not like I need my arm to solve cases.”

“The doctor told you to rest, and that means no work.” Fukuzawa didn’t want to admit that while Ranpo’s words were true, and that he didn’t need his arm to solve crime, he simply didn’t want Ranpo to somehow end up injured further; criminals were unpredictable when cornered after all.

“But we need money. You were complaining about being poor before I fell, which is half the reason I fell in the first place anyway.”

Fukuzawa’s eye twitched. “You did not fall because of lack of money. You fell because you refused to take ‘no’ for an answer and tried to go off on your own. And as for money, we’ll be fine. I can pick up some work while you recover.”

“And, what? Leave me here all alone? No thanks.”

Fukuzawa sighed, but dropped the discussion before it could become an argument. He could tell from the way Ranpo had tensed up that the issue wasn’t because the kid would get bored if he was left behind, but from the fact that Ranpo feared if Fukuzawa left without him, he wouldn’t return. It was something they’d have to work on in the future, but for now it could wait. Instead, he sought to reassure Ranpo. “You just focus on healing. Let me worry about everything else.”

Ranpo nodded, looking like he wanted to say something else, but unable to find the words. A first for the boy that could look you dead in the eyes and bare your deepest and darkest secrets to the world like they were common knowledge. But Fukuzawa was nothing if not a patient man, so he continued to sit quietly in his chair and waited.

After another minute or so of silence, Ranpo lifted his head and held out one of the markers towards him. “Here.”

Fukuzawa blinked, not quite understanding what it was that Ranpo was asking of him.

“Ugh, are you stupid, come and help me turn this ugly white plaster into something better.” Ranpo waved the marker around dramatically. Fukuzawa couldn’t help but roll his eyes, even as he eased himself onto the floor and took the marker from Ranpo’s hands.

One year into taking care with Ranpo, Fukuzawa was confident that he could handle Ranpo efficiently and effectively. It was quite simple really when one gave it some thought; Ranpo was a person that snacked rather than ate actual meals, so keeping up a steady supply of snack foods was a must—although convincing him to eat at least one meal a day had been a long, hard battle that Fukuzawa had ultimately emerged the victor of. Ranpo was also someone who became destructive when bored, and Fukuzawa was amazed that the apartment they called home hadn’t erupted into flames from yet another baking experiment Ranpo had tried when he’d stepped out of the house for just a couple of hours. The solution to that was to try and keep his mind occupied. Try being the key word there, since Ranpo was a genius and he figured out things in a matter of seconds. Fukuzawa had managed to get a hold of some novels from foreign authors—ones that revolved around mysteries of course—letting Ranpo work his way through them, even if he wasn’t familiar with the language they were written in.

It had been strange to come home to an quiet house, Ranpo on the couch with his nose stuck in a book. Fukuzawa couldn’t remember the name of the author, only remembering how Ranpo had gushed about the genius way of writing mysteries this author accomplished. He faintly recalled that the name was similar to Ranpo’s own name, but he’d been more focused on Ranpo sitting still at the time.

If he ever met the author of those books though, then Fukuzawa would be sure to thank them.

Fukuzawa had heard from other parents that had raised teenagers—he’d sought out some help from some kind mothers after Ranpo had gotten upset at being stuck at home when he’d broken his arm; the kind women offering all kinds of advice for dealing with teenagers, advice he wasn’t sure he could really apply to Ranpo, but still appreciated all the same—that teens were supposed to be difficult and hard to manage, always arguing with authority figures and pushing boundaries. And while Ranpo liked to test his patience at times, the teen was more than content to hang around by his side. There’d been one day, where Fukuzawa had suggested maybe finding Ranpo a hobby so he could make friends his own age, and the look of contempt he’d received in response had been enough for him to never bring that discussion up again.

All in all, Ranpo was a rather easy child to look after, but only once you’d taken the time and effort to actually understand him.

That didn’t mean that Ranpo wasn’t without faults of course, and neither was Fukuzawa as they navigated this difficult journey that was parenting, together. There were many a times where Fukuzawa had yelled because Ranpo had pushed all his buttons in just the right way, leaving Ranpo shying away from him, even after he’d apologized. And there were times where Ranpo would sulk and become the very definition of a ‘terrible teen’, usually after being denied some kind of sweet after he’d already eaten more than enough sweets to last a lifetime. But they were just small things, bumps in the road that with some communication, could easily be navigated about.

It was the larger bumps, that were more like gaping holes in the road, that became increasingly difficult to navigate. Those larger bumps usually lasted the entire day—sometimes several—and there was nothing to do but wait for them to pass. There were days where Fukuzawa could only remember the sheer amount of blood he’d spilt in his past, seeing red wherever he looked, and would be terrified to touch Ranpo at all, in fear of hurting the boy and adding more blood to his hands. Which of course, set Ranpo off into thinking, despite how illogical it was, that Fukuzawa had finally grown tired of him and would soon abandon him, and he’d try to get closer to Fukuzawa, which, honestly, just made things worse for the both of them. They’d managed to come to a compromise of sorts on those days, where Fukuzawa would wear something tied around his wrist, so that Ranpo could grab onto it when he needed reassurance, and Fukuzawa could avoid physical contact until he was ready for it.

Then there were the days where Ranpo would not speak. At all. He wouldn’t even leave his room, no matter what Fukuzawa tried to bribe him with. Sometimes, Ranpo could be coaxed into the living room and onto the couch, but still, he wouldn’t make a sound. Those days, Fukuzawa had no idea what to do, as none of the parenting knowledge he’d gained over the past year could’ve prepared him for days where the child he’d taken in would just lay there as if he was a mere corpse. The best Fukuzawa had been able to do was to sit in Ranpo’s room by his bedside and read aloud, or sit them both on the couch and watch a random children’s movie; things that didn’t require much thought, for Ranpo at least. Those days, Ranpo’s thoughts were closed off to everyone but himself, private and only for him to know, and Fukuzawa could only sit by his side and wait for him to return.

But it had been a week of having a silent Ranpo around the house, and Fukuzawa was starting to get concerned.

There was never anything that triggered these days in his ward, at least none he could identify, but they usually never lasted more than a day, so Fukuzawa figured it was fine for him to start worrying. Everyone had bad days, but this had become more than just a bad day at this point. Right now, Ranpo was sitting at the table, slowly working his way through a piece of fruit. It was almost dinner time, and it was the first thing Ranpo had eaten all day, but unlike the previous days where Fukuzawa had had to practically force Ranpo into eating, Ranpo had emerged from his room all on his own, taken the banana, and sat at the table.

It was the perfect opportunity to observe his ward. Fukuzawa studied Ranpo’s slumped posture, the heavy bags under his eyes, and the slight glaze to his eyes; all indicators of lack of sleep. Not that Fukuzawa was unaware that Ranpo wasn’t sleeping. He was a light sleeper, so he often woke during the night to the sound of footsteps wandering the apartment at ridiculous hours, often before he’d hear the television flick on and the noise filtered towards his room. The first night this had happened, Fukuzawa had told Ranpo that he could come to him if he needed to, but so far, Ranpo hadn’t taken him up on his offer.

Silently, Fukuzawa climbed to his feet and moved towards the kitchen, going through the motions of making some hot chocolate, a drink that he knew was soothing to the boy at his table. He didn’t know if Ranpo would even drink it, but he hoped that by giving him the beverage, it would remind Ranpo that he wasn’t alone in dealing with whatever demons it was that plagued him.

Once Fukuzawa was done, he placed the drink in front of Ranpo, and was surprised when the boy’s head tilted up to look at him. No words were said, but Fukuzawa could see the faint gratitude hidden behind the exhaustion, and Ranpo silently wrapped his hands around the cup and drew it closer.

Progress.

That night, Fukuzawa lay on his futon, thinking about what he could do to try and help Ranpo, when he heard his door creak open, soft footsteps making their way towards him. Fukuzawa didn’t move, didn’t breathe, until a figure that could only be Ranpo dropped into his line of sight. And he looked miserable. There were dried tear tracks on the boy’s cheeks, and his hair was sticking up all over the place, like he’d been tossing and turning. A sniffle, and a single tear ran down Ranpo’s cheek, and Fukuzawa wordlessly lifted his blanket. Ranpo stared at him for a moment before crawling underneath the covers, burying his face into Fukuzawa’s chest. Fukuzawa dropped the blanket and closed his eyes. No words were said, but none needed to be.

The next night, Fukuzawa didn’t sleep, only because a devastating crash had him bolting out of the room to find Ranpo slumped against the kitchen cabinets with the shattered remains of a glass around him. Ranpo’s entire body had been shaking as his breaths shuddered in and out like he was being strangled as he stared with unseeing eyes at the mess on the floor. Fukuzawa hadn’t said a word, only wrapping Ranpo in his arms and holding him until he’d calmed enough to fall into a restless slumber. Fukuzawa had put the kid to bed and cleaned up the glass.

The third night was when it all came to a head, when a terrifying scream echoed throughout the apartment. In a split second, Fukuzawa had jumped to his feet and run to the source of the scream; Ranpo’s room. A quick scan of the room showed that it was just Ranpo and him, and that Ranpo was still very much asleep as he thrashed about his bedding, whimpers and soft pleas escaping him. Fukuzawa dropped to the floor beside the boy.

“Ranpo! Ranpo!” He called, reaching out a hand to shake Ranpo.

Ranpo’s eyes flew open, and one hand desperately reached to clutch at Fukuzawa’s sleeve as he shot upright, doubling over just a moment later as he retched. Thankfully, nothing came up, but it still tore at Fukuzawa’s heart to see Ranpo in such a state. Why hadn’t he realized that Ranpo had been having nightmares this whole time? “It’s okay, you’re safe. You are safe. Just breathe, Ranpo, breathe.” Fukuzawa soothed, running a hand through Ranpo’s hair to get it out of his face. “You had a nightmare. You aren’t hurt, you are safe.”

“S-Safe?” Ranpo breathed.

“Safe.” Fukuzawa was firm, as he needed to be in the current situation. Firmness would show Ranpo that his words were true and to be trusted; anything else was liable to send the boy into another panic, and that wasn’t what Fukuzawa wanted.

The effects of the nightmare were quickly fading, although Ranpo remained coiled with tension, with the occasional tremor running through his body. But his breathing was no longer fast and panicked, and his eyes were clearing as the last remains of sleep left him. With one deep breath, Ranpo slumped against Fukuzawa. “Don’t go.”

“I won’t.” Fukuzawa promised. “Let’s go wash your face and get a change of clothes, and then I’ll make us some hot chocolate?”

Ranpo’s fists tightened on the sheets, only to relax as he nodded. Fukuzawa stood, guiding Ranpo up with a gentle grip on his arm, and together they moved from the bedroom to the bathroom in silence, where Fukuzawa stood guard as Ranpo washed the sweat from his face, and now, exhaustion was the only sign that a nightmare had just occurred. The silence continued as Ranpo changed out of his sweat-drenched clothing, and was still ongoing as Fukuzawa made a drink for the both of them, Ranpo sitting on the couch, waiting.

“Would you like to talk about it?” Fukuzawa asked as he sat beside Ranpo, handing the boy the warm mug before taking a sip from his own.

Ranpo shook his head, and then nodded. Another shake of his head, and finally, a shrug. “I don’t know.” The boy finally whispered; his voice almost swallowed by the darkness of the room.

“That’s okay.”

The mug in his hand was warm, and Fukuzawa turned his attention to it. It wasn’t often that he had hot chocolate, only really drinking it once Ranpo had come into his care and demanded it of him. “How can you not have hot chocolate in this place? It’s like, the best drink you can get, other than ramune of course!” So, Fukuzawa had gone out the next day and bought what he needed to make the beverage, and it had been worth it to see Ranpo look so excited. Now it was more of a comfort drink, only really coming out whenever one—or both—of them needed something soothing to drink. Sometimes, it was tea, but most of the times, the chocolate won out.

“It was my parents.” Ranpo’s voice broke the silence after what felt like hours. “The nightmare that is. It’s… it’s close to the date they died.”

That wasn’t what Fukuzawa had been expecting, but then again, he had never asked much about Ranpo’s parents other than what they’d been like, and their names. He knew they’d died in an accident, but Ranpo had never elaborated on the topic, and Fukuzawa had never pushed for an answer. Still, it made sense for Ranpo to struggle when it came close to the anniversary of their deaths; from what he knew, they hadn’t been dead long, and Ranpo probably hadn’t been able to process the grief from then properly on account of needing to find a job to survive.

The past week and a half of silence suddenly made perfect sense.

“I see. Is there something I can do?” Fukuzawa asked, even though he knew what the answer was going to be.

Ranpo shook his head. “Not really. This happened last time too. It’ll pass.”

But you shouldn’t have to suffer alone. Fukuzawa found himself thinking. Then, an idea came to him. “Would it help if you went to visit them? Their graves, I mean.”

Ranpo’s head turned to face him, eyes widening. There was a glimmer of hope in those green orbs, but it quickly faded, replaced with a defeated look. “We have work, though.”

Fukuzawa neglected to bring up the fact that they hadn’t done any work in nearly two weeks because of Ranpo’s melancholy, knowing that it would only make the boy feel worse than he already did. “Work can wait. Your wellbeing is much more important. So, if you wish to visit your parents, we can go. But only if you want to.”

“I do.” Ranpo said quickly. There was a brief pause before, “tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow.” Fukuzawa promised. He placed his empty mug on the coffee table in front of him and turned to face Ranpo. “Do you wish to stay with me tonight?”

“Is that alright?”

“I wouldn’t have offered if it wasn’t.”

Ranpo nodded, and got up when Fukuzawa did, following him to the kitchen so that they could place their mugs in the sink, before following him to his room where he squashed himself into Fukuzawa’s side, seeking as much comfort as he could get. Fukuzawa waited for Ranpo to get comfortable before drawing the blankets over the both of them, resting a comforting arm over Ranpo’s side.

Compared to Yokohama, the countryside was vastly different; more beautiful and peaceful compared to the chaotic mess that was the city with one of the largest underground crime in the country. Fukuzawa felt a little foolish to be as tensed and alert as he was compared to the rest of the country folk passing them by, but old habits were hard to break, and well, bad people weren’t just limited to the city either. Only this time, the enemy might be a recognizable one.

For once, Fukuzawa was the one following Ranpo, the boy’s usually lack of directional sense strangely absent, although it made sense since this was the hometown where he’d spent the first fourteen years of his life. He wouldn’t have been surprised if Ranpo had had no idea where he was going, and had resigned himself to asking for directions when they’d disembarked from the train—that he’d had to purchase the tickets for because Ranpo still didn’t understand how trains worked—only to have Ranpo leave the station and start walking, Fukuzawa quickly moving to keep up lest he be left behind.

Ranpo was still quiet, but unlike the oppressive silence that had hung around the previous week, it was the kind of silence that came about when Ranpo was thinking about something; the kind where Fukuzawa would also remain silent and wait for Ranpo to speak. And if he didn’t end up saying anything, then that was fine too.

By the time they’d reached the cemetery where Ranpo’s parents lay, they still hadn’t said anything, and Fukuzawa hung back a respectful distance while Ranpo went on ahead and knelt in front of the gravestones, his mouth moving as he spoke words too quiet for Fukuzawa to hear.

He raised his head towards the heavens.

Don’t worry. Your son is in good hands.

One thing that Fukuzawa was eternally grateful for, was the immune system of steel that Ranpo seemed to have. He'd seen many a sick child in his life, and had fully expected Ranpo to fall victim to the series of colds and flus that ran rampant about the city during the colder months, only to discover that bacteria and germs seemed to avoid Ranpo like the plague. Fukuzawa was only a little annoyed that he’d gotten sick more often than Ranpo, especially since most of those times had been because of Ranpo in the first place.

So, yeah, Fukuzawa was grateful that Ranpo seemed allergic to sickness, because the last thing he wanted to see was how Ranpo handled being sick—he imagined it would be days filled of complaints—considering just what the boy was like whenever he sustained an injury. It was just a lot of energy that Fukuzawa strongly believed he shouldn’t have to exert in the first place. But he did. Because if he didn’t, then Ranpo would surely get himself into even more trouble and the cycle would never end.

But just because Ranpo had never been sick in Fukuzawa’s presence, didn’t mean that the genius detective was immune to sickness entirely. No human was, at least, none that he knew personally, which wasn’t a lot of people when he thought about it.

So he shouldn’t have been surprised that the one time Ranpo had fallen sick in his care, he’d fallen sick.

Shivers ran up his spine at the memory.

It started with a summer storm.

Wind and rain lashed at the trees and buildings, the wind rendering umbrella’s useless within seconds, and the rain soaking everyone to the bone, no matter the kind of rain gear they wore. It wouldn’t have been as bad if it had just been the wind and rain, but no, it was the kind of rain that made the temperature plummet, during the warm summer day into a freezing winter afternoon in the span of an hour. It was a truly miserable day, and not one that Fukuzawa would’ve left home for, but the police had begged him and Ranpo for some assistance with their latest case, and upon hearing the details of the case, Ranpo had become curious enough to want to brave the storm. Fukuzawa had simply sighed and made sure Ranpo was appropriately dressed for the weather before he put one foot out the door.

In the end, the criminal had been apprehended and he and Ranpo had been free to go home.

A sniffle behind him drew Fukuzawa’s attention and he glanced over his shoulder at the sodden boy trailing behind him. While the two of them were both soaked to the bone, Ranpo was more water than person at this point, on account of being thrown into the river when he’d uncovered the killer’s identity. As it turned out, the killer had had no qualms about taking Ranpo with him as he’d pulled them both over the bridge railing, a last ditch effort to escape the police. It had failed of course—thank god—and they’d extricated both the killer and Ranpo from the river, and Fukuzawa’s heart could finally stop racing. Now all they had to do was head home, get dry, and not leave the house again until the storm was over.

Another sniffle behind him. “Ranpo, are you alright?” Fukuzawa asked, coming to a halt when he noticed that Ranpo had been trailing behind a bit further than he had been just before.

“I just got thrown into a river, what do you think?” Ranpo snapped, refusing to look Fukuzawa in the eyes as his cheeks burned red. Ah. Ranpo was embarrassed about needing to be saved. It wasn’t the first time that a criminal had tried to take a shot at hurting Ranpo, or killing him, but most of the time Ranpo had already accounted for the fact that that might happen, so had usually taken precautions—without telling the people around him of course. The amount of times Ranpo had stood there and let a criminal charge at him with a grin on his face was enough to turn Fukuzawa’s already silver hair even more silver. All Fukuzawa could see in those moments was a gun pointed a fourteen-year-old boy’s face, and he reacted, just like Ranpo had planned. Fukuzawa had half a mind to let Ranpo get shot or stabbed one of these days, if only to make the boy realize that he wasn’t as invincible as he appeared to believe. But he wouldn’t. Because Fukuzawa cared for Ranpo like he was his own son and it would hurt him to see Ranpo hurt just to prove a point.

But this time, they hadn’t been able to predict the killer’s intent, not until Ranpo and killer were already falling, and Fukuzawa had stared into young, terrified eyes, ready to leap into the river after him when an officer had dragged him away, not wanting anyone else to go for a swim in the tumultuous river, and they’d dashed along the river bank with the rest of the officers at the scene. It was only because another police patrol had been upriver that they’d managed to rescue Ranpo anyway; the officers having heard the commotion over the radio and prepared for a quick rescue. Fukuzawa had thanked the officers profusely whilst Ranpo had coughed up river water beside him, looking worse for wear.

“No one expected the killer to try and escape in a flooded river, Ranpo. It was an oversight on our part to not keep a closer eye on him once he’d been cornered.” Fukuzawa said carefully, knowing that if he didn’t choose his carefully, he was going to have a furious Ranpo on his hands.

And really, Fukuzawa just wanted to go home.

“I should’ve noticed it!” Ranpo sniffed again, wiping the back of his hand across his nose in a motion that had Fukuzawa disgusted. “World’s Greatest Detective and I didn’t think of the river as an escape route? Why? Just because the river was a little higher than it normally is? That’s no excuse!”

The river being a little higher than normal was an understatement; the severity of the storm had sent it into flood, and the wind allowed the water to lash the sides of the bank viciously, threatening to snatch up anyone that dared stray to close to it. But for the sake of not starting an argument, Fukuzawa hummed and allowed Ranpo to walk in front of him as he ranted angrily. Fukuzawa had learnt that it was sometimes best to let Ranpo say what he needed to say when he was angry or upset, and then help the boy work through it all; or in some cases, just sit beside him until Ranpo was back to his cheerful self.

Ranpo was still ranting by the time they arrived home, but this time about something else entirely that Fukuzawa was only half paying attention to. “Ranpo.” Fukuzawa said, interrupting the boy mid-rant. Ranpo looked at him. “Go and take a shower before you catch a cold.”

“You’re the one that should go first, Fukuzawa-san. I don’t get sick, remember?” Ranpo frowned as he pulled his shoes off and removed his coat, leaving puddles of water in the entryway.

“Just go, Ranpo.”

“Ugh, fine.” Ranpo shuffled off towards the bathroom, the door closing behind him with a click. Without grabbing an extra set of clothes. Fukuzawa sighed and removed his own coat, vowing to clean up the mess later once he was dry, and made his way to his room to get changed. Once he was dressed in dry and warm clothing, he carefully made his way towards Ranpo’s room, doing his best to navigate the mess that Fukuzawa had asked the boy to clean up multiple times, only to be told that everything was where it was for a reason. Fukuzawa hadn’t argued, only made Ranpo promise to keep it a tidy mess if it truly had to be set out that way—it did—and Ranpo had looked annoyed, but agreed to do so.

At least there was a clear path to the boy’s wardrobe where he dug out the softest clothing, he knew Ranpo owned; an oversized sweatshirt that dwarfed Ranpo’s already small size, some pants that Fukuzawa no longer knew the origin of, and fluffy socks. He could not and would not forget the socks; Ranpo despised not wearing socks, even during summer, and Fukuzawa had only made the mistake of forgetting socks once. Clothes in hand, Fukuzawa left the room and dropped the bundle in front of the door, knocking to let Ranpo know they were there, before making his way to the kitchen to make warm drinks for the both of them.

“Fukuzawa-san?” Ranpo poked his head around the corner, dry and dressed, but looking positively exhausted, not that Fukuzawa could blame him after taking an unwanted swim.

“Yes, Ranpo?” Fukuzawa paused in what he was doing, just about to make up Ranpo’s drink.

“I’m gonna go to bed now.”

Bed? Now? It’s only just after lunch. “Are you feeling alright?” He asked instead, a frown on his face as he crossed the room to stand in front of Ranpo, reaching out a hand to palm the boy’s forehead.

Ranpo slapped his hand away. “I’m fine, just tired.”

“Hmm… alright then. Leave your door open though. I’ll close it when I go to bed.” Usually, Fukuzawa didn’t care if Ranpo’s door was open or closed; the boy was entitled to his privacy after all, but sometimes, like right now, he’d ask the door to be left open just a bit, that way he could keep an ear out in case Ranpo needed help. And after a near-fatal swim, Fukuzawa felt like his concern was valid enough to make the request reasonable.

It didn’t stop Ranpo from turning up his nose, but when he disappeared into his room, the door was left partially open.

Fukuzawa sat on the couch alone, quietly drinking his tea. All the while keeping an eye on the room down the hall.

The next morning, Fukuzawa woke up early as usual, and set about cleaning up the mess that he’d neglected to the previous day on account of being worried about Ranpo; picking up still soaked clothing and throwing them into the washer, mopping up puddles of water, before tottering around and tidying up the rest of the house. The act of cleaning was soothing to him, it allowed him to just stop thinking for a change and perform acts that didn’t require much thought. And it was made even better by the fact that the sun was shining through the window, the storm from yesterday long gone, with the only signs of such a storm having existed in the first place being the puddles of water lying about on the roads. In fact, it was such a nice day now, that Fukuzawa elected to open the door to the balcony, allowing a slightly cool breeze to move throughout the apartment.

Usually, after such a bad storm, the weather the next day became miserable, especially when those kinds of storms happened during summer. But there was something in the way the storm was formed—a bunch of technical terms that Fukuzawa didn’t feel like trying to decipher—that brought a cool change instead of humidity and misery. It was pleasant. Too pleasant. Fukuzawa frowned, glancing at the clock from where he’d been doing the dishes. It was well past the time that Ranpo would be awake and chattering away, and yet, he hadn’t heard anything from the kids room since he went to bed early yesterday. Surely, he’s not still asleep?

Fukuzawa dried his heads and moved down the hallway, poking his head into Ranpo’s room, finding Ranpo still on his futon; dead asleep, blankets discarded like usual. Fukuzawa was about to leave Ranpo to get his rest—he had been working hard after all—when Ranpo broke out into a fit of coughing. Not the kind of coughing that one did to clear a throat, but the kind of deep, wet, coughs that could only have come from Ranpo’s time in the river. Fukuzawa’s stomach clenched; he should’ve gotten Ranpo checked out before they came home. Concerned now, Fukuzawa stepped into the room and came to kneel beside Ranpo, laying the back of his hand against Ranpo’s forehead.

A fever.

Not good.

“Ranpo.” Another round of coughing greeted Fukuzawa’s attempt at waking, the horrid sounds enough to have Fukuzawa reach underneath Ranpo’s arms and pull him upright so that the boy would be able to breathe easier.

Ranpo’s eyes flew open at the motion, and the coughing fit grew more intense. Fukuzawa shifted so that he could continue to hold Ranpo upright, but still run a hand up and down the kids spine, quietly encouraging Ranpo to try and take a breath in between coughs. Eventually, the fit died away, and Ranpo slumped against him, head drooping in a way that his hair was hiding his eyes. Not that Fukuzawa had to look into Ranpo’s eyes to know that they would be glazed over with fever. He could feel the heat radiating off of Ranpo’s body from where it was touching his own, even through the layers of clothing they both wore.

Ranpo mumbled something inaudible.

“What was that?” Fukuzawa frowned, not catching what was said.

“…n’t feel… good.” Ranpo repeated, voice a little louder, but still quiet.

“You have a fever.” Fukuzawa explained. “I’m going to help you to the couch. You’ll be able to breathe easier if you’re sitting up.” Fukuzawa waited for Ranpo to nod before he helped the boy stand up, carefully guiding him towards the couch where Ranpo collapsed against the arm of it and let out a miserable groan.

Fukuzawa tucked the blanket he’d grabbed around Ranpo’s shoulders, leaving Ranpo to be miserable on the couch while he went to find some medicine and water. He was certain that he’d kept a stock of medicine on hand that was suitable for someone Ranpo’s age in the event of the day that Ranpo actually fell ill, but he couldn’t recall where he’d placed it. Since they’d never needed to use it before, Fukuzawa hadn’t paid attention to where it had gone in the move from his old apartment to the current one. And as he searched the cupboards in both the bathroom and kitchen, he couldn’t help but sigh as the medicine eluded him. He didn’t want to have to leave Ranpo on his own in order to go shopping, even if it wouldn’t take him that long.

He glanced at his phone on the kitchen counter, an idea forming in his mind.

No, he couldn’t. They hadn’t spoken in years, and he was more than capable of taking care of a sick child on his own.

“Ranpo.” Fukuzawa crouched in front of Ranpo, a cup of water in hand. “I need to go out and get some medicine for you. I—”

“Why?” Ranpo interrupted, eyes opening to slowly blink at him. He accepted the water that Fukuzawa held out to him, sipping on it slowly.

“Because you’re sick. You have a fever and a cough, and medicine will make you feel better.”

Ranpo screwed up his face. “Don’t need it. Tastes gross.”

Fukuzawa sighed. “It will help you. Or do you want to be sick for longer than you need to be?”

At his words, Ranpo glared—well, as much of a glare as he could muster in his current state—and sharply turned his head away, only to groan and drop it against the arm of the couch.

A headache too. Fukuzawa made a note to grab some painkillers as well. “I’ll have my phone with me. Call if you need something.”

Ranpo made a disapproving noise, but didn’t protest further when Fukuzawa draped another blanket over him left the apartment. He wouldn’t be gone long, half an hour at the max; there was no way that Ranpo could get himself into trouble in such a short time frame… right?

Why are there so many different kinds of medicine? Why are there so many flavours? Just have one! Fukuzawa sighed as he exited the pharmacy when a bag in hand, everything he’d need to help Ranpo get better as soon as possible. The worker had been nice and patient with him, listening as he described Ranpo's symptoms and admitting that Ranpo didn’t get sick often which was why he hadn’t had any medicine on him in the first place. He was almost certain that some of the stuff the worker had forced him to purchase, he didn’t actually need, but he also wasn’t going to argue against someone who was trained in that field of knowledge. Besides, if he didn’t need it this time, he would have it on hand for when he did need it.

“If he doesn’t get sick often, then prepare yourself for the worst. Kids that don’t get sick often, tend to be hit harder when they do get sick.”

Those were the words the worker had sent him off with, genuine concern on their face as he’d left the store. And honestly, Fukuzawa hadn’t even thought about that scenario at all. He’d simply assumed that Ranpo had fallen ill because of the storm and the river—and he most certainly had—but he hadn’t stopped to consider just how sick Ranpo would get from his adventures. A sliver of doubt weaved through him, suddenly unsure if he was fit to take care of a sick child. It wasn’t something he’d done before. Fukuzawa took a deep breath, exhaling all his worries into the wind. Stressing would bring nothing but second guesses and harmful actions. He’d give Ranpo the medicine he’d bought, and then he’d do a bit of research on how to handle a sick child.

There, he had a plan.

Only to have said plan fly out the window when he walked inside the apartment to find Ranpo on his hands and knees, currently in the process of emptying his stomach contents onto the floor. Fukuzawa’s breath hitched, and he dropped the bag on the table before hurrying to Ranpo’s side, sliding one arm underneath Ranpo’s chest to hold him up, the other moving to brush Ranpo’s hair out of his face. Tears were running down Ranpo’s cheeks as he vomited once more, and the kid began to sob out an apology as he noticed Fukuzawa’s presence. “So-sorry—I’m—”

“Shh, it’s alright. It’s my fault for not leaving you a bucket.” Fukuzawa soothed, pulling Ranpo away from the mess once he’d stopped heaving, getting him settled back on the couch. He couldn’t help but frown; Ranpo hadn’t mentioned anything about being nauseous before he’d left, and he hadn’t looked that sick. Was he feeling worse than Fukuzawa had initially thought? “I’ve got you some medicine. Let me clean up, and I’ll give you some, okay?”

Ranpo nodded, face flushed mostly from the fever, but also embarrassment, as he wiped the tears from his eyes, sniffling pitifully. “Water?”

“Of course.”

Thankfully, it didn’t take long to clean up, although, if possible, Fukuzawa would very much rather not do it again. He returned to Ranpo’s side with the bag of medicine, a few bottles of water and a bucket, opening one of the bottles for Ranpo to drink. “How are you feeling?”

“Terrible.” Was Ranpo’s response, and not an overly helpful one.

“I’m not a mind reader, Ranpo, you need to tell me what’s going on.” Fukuzawa said, with a little bit of impatience in his voice, but not towards Ranpo; never towards Ranpo, who was feeling so sick and miserable right now, but towards himself for being incompetent to not know how to help.

Ranpo groaned, shoving his face into the arm of the couch.

Fukuzawa waited.

“Head hurts. Stomach hurts. Everything hurts.” Ranpo eventually complained.

“Anything else? Are you too hot? Too cold?”

“Hot.”

“Okay.” Fukuzawa turned his attention to the bag, rummaging through it and pulling out the different kinds of medicines, taking the time to read the boxes to figure out what medication did what, all whilst Ranpo was watching him warily. The first one he grabbed was something to treat cold and flu symptoms; all of which Ranpo seemed to have, whilst another was to combat fever, and there was even one that took care of nausea. The pharmacist really had given him everything he could’ve possibly needed. “Do you think you can keep something down?”

Ranpo’s face lost what little colour it still had at the prospect of ingesting anything. The boy fidgeted with the blanket that he’d dragged across his lap, which certainly wouldn’t have been helping his ‘too hot’ problem.

“We’ll wait then.” Fukuzawa was quick to say. “How about we get you into some cooler clothes first, and then we can try and get some of this into you?”

Ranpo let out a whine, and leaned forward to rest his head on Fukuzawa’s shoulder. Fukuzawa sighed, knowing that that was about as much of a ‘yes’ as he was going to get. Without a word, he lifted Ranpo effortlessly, cringing a little at how sweaty Ranpo was because of the fever. Maybe a shower was needed as well.

The apartment was silent, and Fukuzawa sat on the couch, Ranpo’s head in his lap, as he watched a movie with the volume low enough so that he wouldn’t disturb the sleeping boy in his lap. One of his hands was running through Ranpo’s now clean hair, soothing Ranpo while he dozed. Fukuzawa had forced Ranpo to shower, although the boy had insisted he didn’t need help with that, so Fukuzawa left Ranpo to his own devices and went to make a light meal for the kid, hoping to get some food into Ranpo’s stomach. Food was supposed to help sick people recover faster, wasn’t it? And he knew that Ranpo ate soup, since Fukuzawa had made it before, and it had been eaten. So it seemed like a safe option to do.

While he’d been cooking, Ranpo had emerged from the bathroom, making his way to the living room before he slid down the wall and buried his face into his knees. Ranpo, now wearing a t-shirt and shorts—and socks, because try as he might, Fukuzawa had not been able to convince Ranpo to not wear them while he was sick—looked at him pitifully from his spot on the floor. Soup almost done, Fukuzawa had turned the stove down and moved over to help Ranpo up and over to the couch. The blanket, too hot for how high Ranpo’s fever was, had been replaced by a thin sheet that Ranpo had quickly covered himself with.

The biggest challenge for the day had been convincing Ranpo to eat the soup and take the medicine; there’d been tears from Ranpo, and frustration from Fukuzawa as they’d argued over it, but ultimately, he’d managed to get Ranpo to eat a little bit and down the pills that would help him. Fukuzawa was just glad that the medication had been pills and not the foul liquid he remembered from his own childhood, because there was no way he’d have been able to convince Ranpo to drink his medicine.

Now, Ranpo was asleep, and would hopefully sleep off the rest of the sickness that was plaguing him.

Fukuzawa closed his own eyes, ready to catch up on some rest. It was more exhausting than he thought it would be, to take care of someone who was sick, and he didn’t understand how other parents did it on a regular basis.

Why is it hot? Was Fukuzawa’s first thought as he woke up to a darkened apartment, wincing at the pain in his neck as he became more aware of his surroundings. He was still on the couch, which explained his soreness, and Ranpo was still asleep, but something was wrong. Ranpo’s breathing was more like wheezing now, and his face was flushed a bright red, pinched with pain as he was wracked by a coughing fit.

And he was hot.

Fukuzawa wasted no time in placing a hand on Ranpo’s forehead, wincing at how high the fever at become; it was almost as if Ranpo had never taken any medicine in the first place. “Ranpo.” Fukuzawa shook Ranpo’s shoulder, sliding out from underneath the boy, only to have Ranpo not respond to him at all. “Ranpo!”

With no response, Fukuzawa’s worry gave way to fear. Ranpo was really, really, sick, and he didn’t know what to do. His phone caught his eye as he paced the room, and Fukuzawa scrunched up his face. There was only one thing he could do, really.

He crossed the room and snatched up the device, dialling a familiar number.

The phone picked up on the third ring. “What are you calling so late for?”

Fukuzawa sighed. He was already regretting his decision “I need help.”

Ranpo let out another whimper, Fukuzawa hushing his ward, even though Ranpo was completely unaware of what was going on around him. Fukuzawa could feel eyes looking at him from the front seat of the car, but he ignored them in favour of providing whatever comfort he could give. Of course, he was grateful to Fukichi for coming so quick without him saying anything, and helping Fukuzawa bundle Ranpo’s tiny form into a blanket and into the back seat of the car before climbing into the driver’s seat to drive them to the hospital.

They were almost there and they still hadn’t said a word to each other, the tension so thick, Fukuzawa was surprised it wasn’t visible. The fault was his, of course; Fukichi hadn’t made it a secret that he wasn’t pleased about Fukuzawa’s lack of contribution in the war, and Fukuzawa himself had done nothing to try and repair their fracturing friendship. They’d had limited conversations over the years, but had barely spoken to each other since Fukuzawa had taken Ranpo on as his ward.

Still, it would be rude of him to not thank the man at least for coming in the middle of the night to his aide. “Thank you for this.”

Another longer glance this time before the eyes went back to the road. “You sounded terrified. Which is a first for you, so of course I had to come.” Fukichi looked back once more. “The kid’ll be alright.”

Fukuzawa hummed, looking down at the fever flushed face resting against him. He hoped so.

Fukichi dropped them off at the emergency room, asking Fukuzawa to let him know how things went before driving off into the night. Fukuzawa made sure that Ranpo was secure before making his way into the hospital, the situation oddly similar to the time he’d rushed in with a wailing Ranpo after he’d broken his arm. And Fukuzawa didn’t know if it was fate, or if he was just extremely, but it was the same receptionists as the last time the two of them had been here, and they took one look at Fukuzawa before assuring him that help was coming.

Soon, Ranpo was whisked away out of his arms and Fukuzawa was led by a kind nurse to a chair he could wait in. So, Fukuzawa waited… and waited… and waited, before finally, the doctor came to fetch him, leading him to where Ranpo was.

Ranpo looked so tiny in the hospital bed, just laying there on raised pillows, wheezing and coughing like he couldn’t get enough air into his lungs. Fukuzawa crossed the room, reaching down to grab one of Ranpo’s hands with his own. Ranpo didn’t move, didn’t respond to Fukuzawa’s touch as he usually would’ve; he just laid there, looking a little more comfortable than he had on the car ride over.

It was a chest infection, the doctor explained, brought upon by Ranpo inhaling dirty river water in the middle of a storm. The doctor went on to explain that Fukuzawa had done all the right things at the time; keeping Ranpo fed and cool, and giving him medicine, it was simply that infections could only be treated by antibiotics—which Ranpo was now on—and that they tended to flare up quickly. The doctor continued to say that Ranpo would make a full recovery before leaving the room with a promise to send someone to check on them in a few hours.

Fukuzawa sighed, collapsing into the single chair in the room. Honestly, Ranpo was going to be the death of him at this point.

“I’m sorry, Fukuzawa-san, but Ranpo-san has requested that you not enter his room right now.” The nurse said, bowing apologetically towards him as she blocked the doorway.

Fukuzawa frowned. “Why, what’s he done this time?”

“Nothing, sir! And he’s fine as well!” The nurse was quick to say upon seeing the worry creeping onto his face. “Ranpo-san insisted, that’s all. Said it was really important that you not enter for the…” the nurse glanced at the watch on her wrist. “Next twenty minutes.”

A sigh escaped Fukuzawa before he could stop it, but he nodded. “Alright. I shall come back in twenty minutes.”

The nurse bowed again, retreating back inside Ranpo’s room, shutting the door before Fukuzawa could peek and try to see just what trouble his ward was causing. He and Ranpo had been in the hospital for just over a week now, Ranpo finally fighting off the infection in his lungs. It had been a stressful week for Fukuzawa, watching as Ranpo struggled to breathe whenever he was overcome with coughing fits, watching as fever burned through his body, and watching as he cried from the pain of it all. But all through it, Fukuzawa had sat by Ranpo’s bedside, holding his hand and wiping away his tears.

It had been a relief for him when Ranpo’s fever had broken and he’d finally regained consciousness, green eyes blinking at Fukuzawa blearily before Ranpo had asked for something sweet. And if Fukuzawa had shed a few tears upon hearing that annoying request, well then that was his business. Since that day, Ranpo had improved day by day, going from sleeping most of the day to actually being alert and holding a conversation; only being kept in the hospital now until he’d finished the second round of antibiotics the doctors had given him. It was a precaution, the doctor treating Ranpo had said, on account of how sick Ranpo had been when Fukuzawa had brought him in.

Never again, did Fukuzawa want to go through such a thing.

Never.

Before he knew it, twenty minutes had passed, and like he’d promised, Fukuzawa made his way back to Ranpo’s room, knocking politely on the door. He heard a series of coughs—so different from the horrific ones caused by the infection—come from inside before Ranpo’s voice called for him to enter. Fukuzawa opened the door and entered—

—and was greeted by a cake?

“What is this?” Fukuzawa blinked down at the cake in the nurse’s hands. It was chocolate, and was decorated with sprinkles and what looked to be a couple of stick figures; he couldn’t quite tell exactly what it was supposed to be. He looked up at Ranpo, only just noticing the way that there was icing smeared across the boy’s face and fingers, and the slightly hesitant look in his eyes.

“It’s a cake, duh! What else did you think it would be?” Ranpo said, coughing only twice before crawling out of bed to come and stand in front of Fukuzawa. Only a second passed before arms wrapped around his waist and Fukuzawa became even more confused as Ranpo hugged him. He didn’t hesitate to drop one of his arms to rest on Ranpo’s shoulders.

“And where did you get a cake from?” Fukuzawa asked.

“I baked it!” Ranpo looked up at him and grinned. “The nurses helped me!”

“I see.” Fukuzawa took the cake from the nurse, who bowed and scurried out of the room. “Why did you bake a cake?”

Ranpo’s face went bright red, and he hid his face. “It’s to say thank you.”

“Thank you?” Fukuzawa had an idea now of where this was going and smiled. He wanted to hear what Ranpo wanted to say without the boy making him try and guess.

“Yeah. For, you know, taking care of me and all that.” Ranpo said. He sounded a little embarrassed now, and Fukuzawa realized that this was the first time that Ranpo had done something that was for Fukuzawa and not for himself.

“Did you decorate it yourself?”

Ranpo nodded. “It’s us.”

Ah, so it is. “Well. I definitely can’t eat this all on my own now, can I? Why don’t you give me a hand?”

Ranpo’s head shot up, embarrassment gone like it was never there in the first place, and he nodded, always excited at the prospect of eating sweets. “The nurse gave me forks since I knew you’d suggest that!”

Fukuzawa rolled his eyes and followed Ranpo back to his bed, sitting beside his word who was already hoeing into the cake. Fukuzawa picked up a fork and began to help, listening as Ranpo began to talk about the latest hospital gossip, making sure to listen and nod in all the right places.

Finally, it seemed like he was getting this parenting thing under control.

[binkbonkers]

BSD THEORY TIME

BIG CH 101 MANGA SPOILERS

don’t read this if you don’t want spoilers this is your warning :3

ok so this is more from a “things i understand as being essential to the movement of the plot” perspective and less of a “i went and looked at the manga panels to figure out what happens” perspective. from what i gathered after reading the whole thing, the 2 main plot lines are finding the book and dazai building shinsoukoku. this is why i think akutagawa and chuuya are both gonna survive, even given their current circumstances (rip boys). the soukoku and shinsoukoku dynamics have both already proven themselves important to moving the plot forward. like shinsoukoku is a whole main plot line that asagiri set in place. not to mention 6 months hasn’t passed yet! atsushi and akutagawa still have to work out their differences and leaving their relationship without closure like that implies that both of them are gonna end up fine and hash it out (or reconcile or something) later. i think soukoku is gonna be important when it comes to getting out of prison because there’s no way it was that easy to get rid of dostoyevsky and dazai 100% has a plan to get them both out of there. i just don’t think asagiri would end such a well-planned out arc like that. it’s anticlimactic and not his style (he’s a drama queen and we love him for it). personally i think it’s pretty obvious that dazai is gonna get out of prison and i feel like chuuya’s corruption state is gonna be how that happens. it’s gonna be a big dramatic moment like how asagiri has done with every arc building up to a big battle. i also think he’ll pull some irony and have dazai use no longer human to turn all the vampires back into humans (i just would love to see that happen it would be awesome i love irony).

TLDR: akutagawa and chuuya have plot armor. they’re gonna go through some shit to push character development for other characters, but they’re gonna be ok.

[linklethehistorian]

BSD Season 4 Reveal: Initial Impressions

Speculation and initial personal thoughts under the cut due to spoilers for the manga up to Chapter 95.5, and Storm Bringer (and also the Fifteen light novel and the previous anime seasons, but I should expect that’s a given by now and no longer requires a spoiler warning to begin with, since it’s been years).

Hello, everyone! It’s good to see you again! As I’m sure you all know, last night I was made aware of the announcement for BSD anime Season 4, and now that I’ve gotten some decent sleep and had some time to reflect on the announcement with a clearer and more alert mind, I’d like to share all of my initial musings on the matter with you — both positive and negative.

I actually do have a quite a few points I’d like to cover, so rather than going on one long, messy rant, I’m going to be separating them into different sections as per my two previous articles — here and here (the latter of which is still in progress) — on the animated series.

With that out of the way, let’s begin!

Season 4 Light Novel Adaption Expectations & Thoughts

Given the series’ at-times-beloved-and-at-other-times-disastrous past tradition of including a light novel adaption into each season of the anime, I do think it should go without saying that the speculation on which one, if any, will get chosen to be “brought to life” through the TV series this time is a very valid avenue for anyone to want to go down immediately upon finding out that there is going to be yet another season.

Personally, I don’t think any speculative analysis of a new season is complete without that kind of banter, so let’s explore the possibilities and what exactly they each entail, shall we?

Ordinarily, I would have tended to go on a longer ramble about the situation and all of its implications than I actually will this time around, but thankfully, most of what I’ve already said and the reasoning I’ve already laid out in my speculative article on the previous season still holds up, so today, I will mostly just be building off of that, instead. (If you haven’t read that already, I do highly recommend reading it before you finish this mini-article, but it isn’t strictly necessary, for I’ll probably quote or summarize most of the important parts here.)

As stated there, while there are, in fact, still many light novels to cover in the anime before we’ll have seen them all — Untold Story, 55 Minutes, BSD Gaiden, BEAST, and the at-the-time-unknown-of Kunikida and Katai's Magnificent Days short story and Storm Bringer — when we take into account informative relevance to the current arc and all previous seasons, we are really left with only a few possibilities.

BSD Gaiden, being a spinoff in its own right, is, if anything, better suited to being a movie — or better yet, becoming its own spinoff animated series, sometime in the distant future, and has nothing of major relevance to contribute to the main series at all at present.

BEAST, while informative in some ways about the Book that is so highly sought after and semi-used in Season 4′s arc(s), is honestly the farthest of all light novels from being necessary to introduce into the main animated series. To quote the aforementioned piece I wrote prior to Season 3′s release:

Yes, [...] I too agree that the things this novel brings to light about the Book and its functionality are almost as insightful and compelling as the very premise itself; however, [...] in the end, this story is an AU and therefore has the least necessity to be brought into the animated series in any way, and I’m quite sure that if any of the information from it regarding the Book is truly essential to the main series, it will be brought up at some point within those events on its own, as I can’t imagine that Asagiri would ever leave critical information only within what otherwise would appear to be an entirely optional side story/spinoff. [...]

If BEAST is to be animated at some point at all [...] I feel that it would be best served [...] as its own standalone movie, probably ideally released sometime after our hypothetical Season 4, which should be fairly Book-centric in itself.

Furthermore, now that BEAST has its very own, fully-fledged live-action movie coming out, as much as I may enjoy the idea of seeing it animated someday, I really don’t think that that will — or even should — be taken into consideration anytime in the near future, when there are many other novels already waiting to get their chance to come to life in a movie or TV series that haven’t gotten such special treatment or privileges.

In regards to the Kunikida and Katai's Magnificent Days short story, I’ll admit that is the novel (if it is to be called such) I know the least about at present, but from what I do know about it, although it does star two characters who appear in both Season 3 and Season 4, it also doesn’t seem to establish anything of critical importance to either of these seasons, or the main story as a whole. Thus, I feel that placing it as this season’s light novel adaption — although it may be able to be squeezed into a very small number of episodes with no issue, from what I understand, if not just one — would be a waste of both time and opportunity, if they’re determined to keep with this tradition; I think it would really just be better off being adapted as a bonus OVA of some sort later on, if they felt the need to animate it, as I frankly don’t feel it’s long enough or high-stakes enough to be worthy of an entire movie, however cute or touching it may be. As for 55 Minutes, while I do think it’s one of the better candidates out of the bunch to be chosen, my feelings about it ultimately still remain as they did over two years ago: that it would be best relegated to a movie, either released sometime between the previous season and Season 4, or — given the better understanding I obviously have of Season 3′s contents now — between Season 4 and a potential Season 5, depending on how far into the manga we truly go in this season (more on that question in the next section).

If you would like to know more about my reasoning for why I think 55 Minutes could be considered a good candidate to go alongside Season 4′s (or a potential Season 5′s) main arc(s) at all, you can read about that in my previous article’s section on the subject, as well why I think that although it is a good candidate, between it and Untold Story, the latter is really a much better fit to be integrated directly into the new episodes. As much as I would like to talk about that again here, I think it would just be a massive waste of time to merely (and probably poorly) re-iterate what I’ve already said and documented very well in the past, when that information is presently available for you to go back and read at any time.

Now, with all of the above eliminated from the running, that ultimately leaves us with the two possibilities I think are most feasible for them to choose: Untold Story and Storm Bringer.

Oh, and I know, I know — I can hear the metaphorical stones being cast at me already; how dare I mention Storm Bringer as an option above all those older novels for them to pick? I’m clearly just biased and want to see more of my favorite character/story getting animated, or I must be a Soukoku shipper (I’m personally not, by the way), or some such thing; go ahead, get it out of your systems, I know it’s probably in there from the moment you read that, but, if you do think any of that, you’re actually very highly mistaken...sadly.

I would love to have listed Storm Bringer of my own volition, because I’m “biased” and excited about it; that would definitely be a more fun reason for me to have done it, personally, but...that’s not remotely the case.

In actuality, if I got to choose between the two novels in regards to which would get to be this Season’s light novel representation in the anime, I would actually still choose Untold Story, just as I did for the then-hypothetical Season 4 I explored the possibility of prior to Season 3′s release. 

To quote myself during that time, I still very much do believe that:

[...] yes, [...] you could absolutely adapt Untold Story into season three, and yes, it would give everyone even more information than they already had and perhaps even more reason to feel the way they already do about [Fukuzawa and Ranpo and their bond], but if you’re looking for the story to actually have an impact on anything, you would be better off waiting until it would have some kind of effect on the overall plot, provide some form of insight towards it, and aid in altering the way things are perceived; an opportunity which is clearly presented to us in the form of the manga’s Chapter 65 and Chapter 66 — which, in the anime, would manifest themselves as episodes within Season 4.

In these chapters, it is shown how Fukuzawa fought Mori for the freedom of the young Yosano Akiko and how he and Ranpo together gave her the chance to join the Armed Detective Agency as its second ever member.

If Untold Story were to be introduced at the beginning of Season 4 or even well into it, just before these episodes, it would have a very heavy impact on the overall story, and it would lend even more importance and depth towards all of the characters that are involved, while also displaying the extreme contrast between the methods, morals, and personalities of the two heads of the series’ leading organizations to an even greater degree than ever before.

I still stand by what I said there, now and forever; Untold Story is without question the light novel that has a place in these new episodes — that is not, and never was up, for debate.

The real question is, though, does Studio BONES feel the same way about it as I do?

I’d love to say “yes, absolutely!”, but the reality is that despite technically getting what I wished for and knew could have been best last Season, it was that same ‘granting’ of my wish in the way that they did — butchering and bloodying it beyond recognition and removing nearly all of the reasons why I thought it belonged in that season in the first place in favor of rampant fanservice — that opened my eyes to the very harsh reality that quite frankly, BONES cares more about raking in that sweet, sweet cash from SKK content than preserving narrative integrity, at the end of the day.

Trust me, being the dedicated and passionate Fifteen and Arthur Rimbaud/Randou fan that I am, I would love to be able to say that if they do choose Storm Bringer over Untold Story, it would at least all be for the right reasons of wanting to deliver on giving us the rest of the tale they presented to us last season, but that motive is an utter impossibility, even if they someday try to claim it, when the way they butchered Fifteen ensured that at least 70% of the plot and lore that actually mattered in Storm Bringer was destroyed beyond redeeming, unless they go back and redo it — which they won’t, because that would be admitting to their error.

As things stand right now, because of that fact, even as a fully-fledged, several hour animated movie, Storm Bringer would be an utter disaster of a film, much less as a 400+ page beast of a novel — more than three times the size of any light novel before it, including its predecessor— crammed into the space of 3-4 measly episodes in the television series.

Quite frankly, although I fear this may sadly be a very hot take, unless that miracle happens and they somehow, someday decide to abandon their pride and redo Fifteen correctly, I would really rather they never touched its sequel at all — even if that means I never get to see an animated Storm Bringer; I would rather never see it in that medium than to see it and have it butchered.

Unfortunately, though, I know all too well that that novel is much too tempting for them to resist forever; not because of the amazing, deep, beautiful, simultaneously tragic and hopeful story it can tell, or because of the well-written cast of characters, but because of the opportunity for fanservice it brings.

I am not delusional; I know that it will be animated at some point — whether that is now or later — and when it is, it will be a pitiful, cash-grabbing disaster that has no right to share its title with the novel from which it claims to have been born. The only question we have is “when is that going to happen — in Season 4, or later?”, and sadly, I don’t have an answer to that.

Personally, I see a high probability they will try to animate it soon, but whether or not that means including it in the upcoming season is anyone’s guess; all we can do right now is hope that if they do try to fit a light novel into it, it will be Untold Story, instead.

The Hunting Dogs Dilemma: A Concerned Exploration of Season Length & Exhausted Resources

Of course, that brings us to the next issue: should there even be a light novel adaption this season? I know this is a much-debated topic in the fandom, but personally, I have always been of the highly controversial opinion that yes, they do belong there — at least, until now, and that’s all thanks to a little something — and a good many someones — present on the newest poster.

While I may be just as excited for the new season as the next person — yes, despite my reservations and how my initial public reaction may have come off, I actually am looking forward to the new episodes in general — the very fact that we’re apparently getting so far into the arc as to see the Hunting Dogs and the Aerial Casino period, much less on the main illustration...concerns me.

I had honestly hoped and expected, for several reasons that I will elaborate on within this post in just a short while from now, that the Season would end on the Chapter in which the Hunting Dogs first arrive on the scene in their pods, after the Armed Detective Agency is ‘revealed’ to supposedly be the Decay of Angels via the use of the Book.

With the revelation now shown to me that it will apparently be going farther than that — and potentially still include a light novel adaption — we are once again forced to return to the age-old query we explored last season: just how many episodes does this season intend to have?

Up until now, every season in the Bungou Stray Dogs anime has had a total of 12 episodes on average, and it would be very logical to assume that Season 4 is going to be no different. Yet, if that’s true, how exactly do they intend to fit all of these chapters into one season? It’s utterly ludicrous to even dream of doing such a thing — and that’s without taking any potential chosen LNs into account; without that, it’s already impossible, but with it, it’s even more so!

Perhaps if they decided to do a 24 episode season and forego the LN adaptation — which I find highly unlikely, but let’s go ahead and give them the benefit of the doubt for a moment — it could somehow work, but even then, the question remains of just how far they intend to go with the arc. Ending it at the point just before the Hunting Dogs are all introduced would have made sense; it was logical, it left a cliffhanger for a potential fifth season that would leave viewers definitely wanting more, and it would leave a fair amount of content already in existence for that next season.

Try as I might, I just cannot begin to fathom what good can come of trying to cover much more than that in Season 4; where will they end it? Do they intend to finish the entire current arc in this season somehow, when at the time of writing this, the ending isn’t even out yet? How do they intend to cram all of that into just 24 episodes, let alone a potential 12? Hell, what do they even intend to do for a Season 5 if they push that far and leave themselves few to no current manga chapters left once they’re done with and release the season? To exhaust all of your current resources like that, when you could easily get away with shoving in a light novel adaption and ending Season 4 at the aforementioned logical spot, with plenty of content left to spare, just seems entirely reckless on their part.

I have all of these questions, and absolutely no answers to give; it isn’t sustainable, it isn’t wise, it isn’t even profitable, and it confuses me beyond belief.

Season 5: To Be or Not to Be — A Look into the Potential Future of an Animated Series that Has Spread Itself Too Thin

So, if all of this is true, and they intend to push through to the eventual defeat of Fukuchi and the Decay of Angels, what awaits us at the end of it all? Is there even hope for the animated series to easily continue and thrive beyond that point?

I want to be positive, to end this on some spectacular final section that gives all of my readers — my fellow BSD fans — hope, to have my words be like a warm, friendly pat on the back that says “don’t worry; everything is going to be just fine! ^-^”, but if I intend to continue to be honest, all I can really do is try to look at the statistics of the situation and offer up the most likely probability as a potential answer, and from where I’m standing right now, it...sadly isn’t looking very good.

True, it did take them a little more than two years to announce the anime this time — definitely a bit longer than the length of time between Season 2′s and Season 3′s announcement, comparatively — but even so, if they want to continue this pattern of averaging a new season every 2-3 years (supposing Season 4 doesn’t jump the shark with this new, bold tactic and actually does well enough to warrant another season at all), will they even have enough new content to make by the time a Season 5 would roll around?  Honestly? I don’t know the answer to that; every arc has been a different length — some longer than others, and this current Decay of Angels one definitely being the longest of them all yet, spanning over a whopping 50 chapters long and counting. We don’t know how long the next arc will be; it could be 16 like the smallest arc to date, it could be around 20 like the average arc seemed to be up until this point, or it could even be as many as this arc or more. 

Even if we are optimistic and say that the next arc could be as low as 16-20 chapters long, when we factor in that the current arc hasn’t even ended as of writing this, and seems to at least have another 10 chapters to go before the end — if not way more — that’s still a good 26-30 chapters of content that needs to be produced before Season 4 can be finished, and Season 5 can be remotely feasible.

To quote my previous article: 

A new chapter of the BSD manga comes out once a month in the Young Ace magazine; this means that in one year, barring any potential breaks, a total of 12 chapters are released.

If we presume that Season 4 comes out sometime next year, that could be enough for this arc to have ended in the manga just before its premier, but definitely not enough time for much of anything else to have been produced.  Assuming Season 4 could span anywhere from 3-6 months depending on how many episodes it contains, by the time it ends, around 3-6 new chapters of the new arc could potentially exist, should Asagiri-sensei and Harukawa35-sensei take no breaks; that would mean they would still have to wait at least another year to a year and a half to have enough content to even begin talks about a potential Season 5, then probably spend another year or so working out the specifics before making the announcement, and then it could take potentially another half-year to a year before it’s out. That’s three to three and a half years for the next season; it’s not undoable by any means, but definitely not the most ideal situation ever.

If the next arc is longer, however, and reaches, say, 30 chapters, you’re looking at a good four and a half years before we get a Season 5, after Season 4 ends, and even longer than that if it becomes as impressively long as the current arc and they intend to do the entire thing in one go again.

Could the animated series stay relevant enough to survive another four and a half or more years without another season after this? Potentially, it could, supposing they make Season 4 really good somehow, despite these concerns, and keep the series in anime-only people’s hearts and minds by possibly renewing BSD Wan! for another season, and/or releasing new movies in the meantime (whether original content or LN-based), but once again, it’s certainly not ideal and could prove to be a major struggle for them in the future.

All I can really say is for now is to hope for the best, even if, like me, you manage your expectations so much that you are actually expecting the worst-case scenario. As I’ve said before, I actually do love the anime very much, save for the handling of the Fifteen adaption, and I do hope that it can live on and continue to be as great as it has, in my opinion, almost always been besides that.

I am, above all, thankful for this new season, and hope it is everything we dream of, even though I may not have the most positive outlook at the moment for all of the aforementioned reasons.  Anyway, I hope you enjoyed reading my initial thoughts on Season 4; I feel like they’re certainly not as well-articulated as usual, but it is the best I can do on short notice, and without allowing myself to obsess over re-writing it a million times before finally getting around to posting it weeks or months later.

Thank you for your time, and I hope you have a wonderful day. 💖

Oh and BONES? Hands off Storm Bringer. 👀 🔪 

[linkspooky]

A Mafia Member Who Doesn’t Kill

Bungou Stray Dogs chapter 88 has made it clear to me just how strong the Akutagawa and Odasaku parallels are. They are both orphans, raised to kill and taught their only value is the strength of their abilities that they use for killing, only to slowly unlearn that behavior over time. They are both characters who value life above everything else. I’m going to explore the connection more in depth, under the cut.

1. Origins

The temptation might be to parallel Oda to Atsushi, and Akutagawa to Dazai. Not only is Akutagawa Dazai’s first and direct disciple, and currently wearing his coat, but Atsushi has always been “the good one” of the pairing. The one obsessed with being good, and saving people in the way Oda was. Oda is also the closest thing Bungou Stray Dogs has to an example of living the life of “a good man” that all the main characters are currently striving for. However, I would say that it’s Akutagawa who parallels Oda’s life far more than Atsushi. 

Of course Akutagawa parallels Dazai’s life quite a lot as well.He was recruited by Dazai the same way Dazai was recruited by Mori,wears Dazai’s jacket as his most precious possession, but he shares so much in common with Oda too including his origin. 

In their youth they’re both referred to as killers who kill without showing any emotion. They start out completely empty and dead to all feelings inside, because neither of them have experienced anything to give them a reason to value life. 

Fukuzawa suddenly recalled a rumor he had heard about a young redheaded hit man who wielded two pistols, and killed his targets while never showing any emotions. - BSD LN 3

They both kill because they’re strong, and that’s all they’re seen as. Both boys, orphans with nothing else to live for have been gifted with incredibly strong abilities. They kill, they don’t relish in it, they don’t gain anything from it unlike men in positions of power like Mori Ougai because they are ultimately tools, but they kill nonetheless. 

“I’ve been working alone as an assassin for as long as I can remember,” he began. “I’ve never wanted friends or a boss... but seeing a martial artist like you compromise your principles to save one of your men... It makes me kinda jealous. He must be the happiest guy in the world to have you as a boss.” - BSD LN 3

They both start killing as a means of survival, because they are both orphans who have no one to care for them and look out for them. However, they also slowly over time begin to kill as a way to demonstrate their worth. Akutagawa was an orphan who lost the small amount of friends he was protecting, Oda had no organization he was working for, no connections their lives are utterly empty except for their strength so they come to understand killing as something that gives their life meaning and value. If only because there is nothing else for them. 

However, for both of them killing isn’t enough. It’s merely surviving not living. Which is why no matter how strong they become they both remain empty, and they both feel insufficient, and even jealous of others. Oda is jealous of Fuzukawa’s connection to his subordinate, Akutagawa is jealous of Atsushi who is valued and connected to everyone around him and treated better by Dazai. This jealousy is also a realization that they are missing something in themselves but they don’t know what. 

Most skilled hitmen looked down on others as if they were insects. Their eyes were cold and lacked compassion. But this boy’s were different. They weren’t cold or any temperature. They were just empty. Not only was there no compassion or kindness, there was no hate or passion to kill. His eyes were those of a person who had given up on hope and despair - the eyes of a person who had removed himself from emotional things. - BSD LN 3

Both Akutagawa and Oda start at a point where they are killing, not because they enjoy it, or they’re particularly sadistic, or think they are just or right. They kill because it’s the only thing they’re good at. They kill to demonstrate worth. 

This kid’s different from the old me. Perhaps he never felt any joy from killing others. He was probably only killing because he had nothing to do. - BSD LN3

This also plays into a fundamental misunderstanding that Atsushi has of Akutagawa. He basically views Akutagawa as a bully who kills people to flaunt his strength in front of others. 

He doesn’t realize that Akutagawa is strong yes, but that’s all he is. He clings to that strength, because he’s been given no other alternative. He hasn’t been given nearly the opportunities that Atsushi has. If there is a difference between Oda and Akutagawa, Akutagawa is noticably angrier, more resentful, but that’s because anger is the first emotion he ever definitely felt. 

I feel hatred.  I am no longer a dog. I have become a human being with feelings of my own. -’A Heartless Dog’

Akutagawa and Oda are both boys who lived considerably empty lives, that is until they meet somebody who shows them an alternative and changes their lives forever. Oda and Akutagawa meet someone and from then on they want to find meaning in their lives. 

2. An Assassin Who Doesn’t Kill

Akutagawa kills without hesitance, and yet I would say he’s the only character in the manga who values life as much as Oda does. This might seem like a paradox but both of their characters are built around this paradox. That’s why they become mafia members who do not kill. 

Akutagawa’s response to the old man in the latest chapter seems sassy, but Akutagawa’s never sassy, he’s overly serious and sincere about everything. He’s saying what he really thinks. All people are equally alive. Akutagawa is someone especially aware of the value of life, because in the past his life was treated as something so worthless. 

He was not afraid to die. He was thinking perhaps even hell would be a better place to live then here. JJust continuing to live in this state was suffering, after all. 

[...]

What’s the point of our lives? He had once asked travelers in their place this equestion. Why Must I go on living?

It’s because they have both lived through the absolute worst circumstances, that they value life more, and go on searching for these answers. Akutagawa equally treats life as worthless (kills people without hesitation) and also values life (tries to give people a reason to live, tries to justify his own life, tries to fight against the idea that someone from the slums lives a meaningless life). 

When Kyouka finds a reason to live even though he’s not the one that gave it to her, he’s genuinely happy for her. Because Akutagawa values life, and wants people to find a meaning in life even though he kills. 

Akutagawa is currently on the same path Oda is on. The lines in this scene are vague because they’re meant to apply to both Dazai and Akutagawa. He met a certain person, joined a certain organization, and the hope for death in his eyes vanished. 

Oda gave Dazai reason. Dazai gave Akutagawa reason. Oda was also given reason when he met Natsume. All three continue on with a life of empty killing until an outside force intervenes and teaches them there could be something more to life. 

They both come across someone who tells them that there is more to life than just killing. That they are capable of more than that, and they actually follow through and stop killing. Because, Akutagawa, and Oda deep down respect life. As cruel and heartless as they can be, Akutagawa is also one of the most heartfelt and respectful characters in the series when he opens up. 

Akutagawa and Oda are people who understand other people on a level deep down, because they’re genuinely interested in the lives of others. Akutagawa is the only person who thinks about Atushi in a deep way, in ways Atusshi doesn’t even really want to understand himself. Oda is the first person to treat Dazai like a person, behind the genius. They understand, even the ugly parts of people because they don’t really look away from the dark parts of the world, of life, because no one’s experienced life’s cruelty like they have. Oda sees Dazai for who he is, and tells him that helping people probably won’t make him feel good, and that he’ll never feel good, but he should help people anyway because he’s capable of doing good. 

Oda is the one who started the journey in an assassin trying to find meaning in life, but he didn’t finish it. In the end Oda’s character arc ends tragically, and his path is half finished. Because, Oda eventually chooses death. 

I think a lot of people don’t realize this character flaw of Oda, because he’s usually such a good example, but he chose to kill again, chose to become a martyr to Dazai because he genuinely gave up on living when it became too hard for him again. 

“Odasaku...” Dazai said softly. “Forgive me for the absurd wording, but - don’t go. Find something to rely on. Expect good things to happen from here on out. There’s gotta be something...” - BSD, Osamu Dazai and the Dark Era

Oda died because of tragic circumstances yes, but Oda also dies because he chose death. He chose the escape. He chose the easier path. There were still people that needed him even after he lost the orphans, people like Dazai, and Akutagawa who were orphans in need of help as well and Oda chose to let go of them. 

Oda gave up on his attempt to find meaning in life, because the best way to find meaning in life is simply by living it. 

‘People live to say themselves, it’s something they realize right before they die, eh?’ - BSD, Osasmu Dazai and the Dark Era

Oda chooses to die for the sake of someone else, rather than living for himself. While that’s a tragic choice it’s also a bad choice with consequences, because now there’s nobody around to help Dazai and Akutagawa who also appeared in light novel two and who both needed him to some extent. 

In that sense Akutagawa can be stronger than Oda. Their lives are parallels but they’re also exact opposites. Akutagawa starts out by losing every orphan he was trying to take care of. Oda finishes his life when he loses the orphans who he was trying to raise and protect. 

The choice they make in those moemnts is the opposite ones. Akutagawa tries to choose simply revenge at first the exact same way as Oda did, but when he meets Dazai he realizes there was something he wanted even more than revenge. 

The question resounded in Akutagawa’s heart, and a single answer floated to the surface. Something he qished for. His heart’s desire.  The lowest of the low. In a world that was the lowest of the low, it was a wih that could never possibly be granted.  Akuagawa had to force the words out of his dry, trembling throat. “I want to find a reason... a meaning to my life.” - SHORT STORY A HEARTLESS DOG

Akutagawa wants to live for himself, stronger than even Oda did. Whereas, Oda stops wanting everything. 

Dazai paused before continuing. “I would be able to find something - a reason to live.” 

I looked at him; he looked back at me. 

“I wanted to be a novelist.” I said. “I thought I wouldn’t deserve such a life if I killed someone during a mission. That’s why I never killed anyone. But that’s all in the past. There’s only one thing I want now.” - BSD VOLUME 2, Dazai Osamu and the Dark Era

Oda’s words to Dazai to conitnue to live are meaningful, but he’s also a hypocrite to those words. He tells Dazai to live on, when he made the choice to go off and die. While, Akutagawa as dirty, and arduous as his path is, is the one who keeps struggling to live no matter what like a stray dog starving in the streets.

Which is why Akutagawa is the one who is going to finish what Oda started so long ago, and be the true inheritor to his will. Utlimately, I predict, that’s the path his character development and arc are going to take him. 

[leonawriter]

Second half of what was going to be just one post but I wanted to make each point stand out on its own-

I think that the Port Mafia is going through a character development arc throughout the manga, just the same as the ADA is, and by the time the series ends will be almost unrecognisable from the mafia we started out with.

Funnily enough, the first person who springs to my mind when I think of this is actually Kouyou. Though I will touch on others later on.

Kouyou is certainly not the first PM member we meet. Strictly speaking, that’d be Dazai, or Higuchi, or Akutagawa. But I feel like her change is the most indicative of the route the mafia is taking, and the difference between the pre-manga PM, and the PM after the manga started, and after several arcs. In fact, this is also something I tend to try and think about when writing her in fics, because it is highly relevant.

Chronologically, we know that her timeline is thus; she was part of the mafia in the time before Mori took over, and under the old boss she wanted to run away, likely encouraged by an older man who she may have had feelings for, romantic or not. That man died, and left her feeling that no matter what, she would be unable to escape the darkness. At some time after that, Mori took over the mafia. A year later, she was one of his trusted subordinates, and she is tasked with taking a young Chuuya - previously an enemy of the mafia, and someone who had no idea how to talk to the mafia’s business partners - under her wing. She would go on to become an executive, and at some time before the manga began, found and took in Kyouka. She would then go on to be murderously protective of her young ward, much like a mother or older sister, and encourage her to believe as she had - that she would never be able to live in the light.

So what we see from this is that Kouyou up until this point is a woman with a dark past and a dark heart who is full of grief, and I think that a lot of people overlook this because she’s beautiful and because the way she is later is more popular, but... she is just as guilty of perpetuating the cycle of abuse as Mori, Dazai, and Akutagawa. She was imparting to Kyouka the same “life lessons” that she had learned herself, in much the same way that Atsushi’s headmaster had. Both of those people had suffered, and so both of them taught their charge in a way that they saw as somewhat more forgiving than what they had gone through, in a way that to them would ready the child for the outside world and their future, but was ultimately doing more harm than good.

So, what changes?

I’d say that to answer “Dazai” is to over-simplify things.

The situation had become such that it was no longer viable. Kyouka refused to go back to the mafia. Kouyou was afraid for her, that she would lose herself in some way, and despite her previous words to Atsushi, she did want Kyouka to succeed; or at the very least, saw how a failure would break her, as we see it does while she’s in the jail plane, chained up in midair. Their organisations are not just at odds, but as an executive she’d have to be seeing that neither of them are in a safe position.

Kouyou was already in the perfect place to accept Dazai’s suggestions before he came to her with them (and, admittedly, he may have predicted that things would get to this point, may have used the situation to his advantage).

So, what changes the way that she sees things?

Dazai is one aspect. A rather large one, considering how he himself puts that he managed to get out of the mafia, and is someone with his sort of past (and personality) who not only made it out, but has been staying out, and succeeding. He also points out that with him present in the ADA, he’s able to ensure that Kyouka can flourish in the way that she deserves to.

Atsushi is another aspect, I’d say, because he was the one who was willing to suggest that their organisations work together.

Even just staying with the ADA and not being treated with anything other than respect (and yes, that includes “respect for how dangerous she can be”) would work towards this.

In summary, Kouyou before the Three Company Conflict arc is a grief-ridden woman filled with despair, who sees herself as someone only capable of showing her true potential in the darkness. She comes out of said arc as someone who appears happy with where she is, and who chooses to be where she is, yet who is also happy to help Kyouka from the shadows.

This is just focusing on the one I feel is the best representation of this phenomenon of PM members coming out better. 

Another would have to be Chuuya, which is something that many people have written about, myself included, on how before the manga starts he’s bitter over Dazai’s defection, seeing that trust in his partner as having been shattered. Yet over the course of their first reunion, he is forced to see that his partnership with Dazai need not be over simply because Dazai is now a traitor to the mafia, and that Dazai, well, missed him. As a person. That the connection is still there. And later, during the Lovecraft battle, they work together fluidly again, just like old times and reminding them that just because they’re older, doesn’t mean they’re too much different to still be partners. You can really see it in Dead Apple, where his acceptance of Dazai is less in how willingly he trusts in him and activates Corruption, and more in how comfortable he is after he’s woken up again both in the movie when he sees Akutagawa, and in the promo images where he’s still next to Dazai, and they’re smiling.

Akutagawa needs almost no explanation, given how his arc is still ongoing, and he’s already gone from being the rabid dog of the mafia who kills before he thinks to someone who goes out of his way to leave people alive, and who because of that, is learning to see things from another point of view, just as Dazai wanted of him.

Yet, it’s not just these obvious ones; Higuchi has to work with the ADA on several occasions, tempering down on her novice’s pride in her organisation that she had on her introduction, and is also coming into her own as well. Kajii may well have taken something from his encounter with Yosano, and we see how he’s more than just a mad lemon scientist when he says how much he respects Mori (and I wonder if anything else is going to happen with that). Hirotsu is now able to talk with Dazai again and it isn’t something that he would have to worry about being seen as treasonous. 

And last but not least, Mori himself - when it’s said during his match against Fukuzawa that they’ve both got more to protect now, that’s not just cheap words; Mori protects his people. He shows grief when his people die and it was out of his control. He accepts that an alliance with the ADA is the best and most optimal course when it’s put on the table, even with the understanding that it’ll put them at a disadvantage in the short term. He is forced to begin to come to terms with things about his past that he had been trying to rationalise, and ignore, such as how his actions led to Dazai’s defection, and I sincerely believe that although he does not regret what he did, he does regret how it ended, and what it cost him. 

Mori, the leader of the mafia, is being forced in the current arc  to come face to face with the realisation that the mafia can’t live as an island, merely taking from the ADA what they need and giving nothing in return. It is Mori’s lack of action that led to things becoming as bad as they are now, and because of that, his own people are suffering. I’ve said this before to personal friends, but I do think that this is indicative of the mafia’s growth as a group - Mori needs to learn that the alliance with the ADA has to be an equal one.

What’s more, the ADA is learning through their own growth in general that they have to be able to trust the PM in return.

What does this say to me? 

Other than that the characters of the mafia have been influenced positively by the plot, into becoming better versions of themselves, and the development is still in progress because the series isn’t over? That you can’t write them the way they are now, into a fic set years before the series starts?

That the themes of BSD are such that the PM represent the underside of society, a cruel and callous way of thinking that we often don’t wish people to see, or that we cover up. That even the ADA, on the twilight of the law, is still more often than not too proud to accept the help of criminals who are less ashamed and more forward about the way that they do things being criminal. That both sides are slowly moving down the path of being able to accept one another better, and in doing so, they’ll better be able to accept themselves.

We already see this with Kouyou and Akutagawa and Chuuya especially. We see this with Dazai, and to a degree with Kyouka. I believe that the longer the series goes in this direction, the more other ADA characters will accept themselves; such as Tanizaki, with his ability to use his ability in ways that Hirotsu notes are “perfect for assassination,” and with Ranpo, who hides the fact that he has insecurities and is also fully willing to make a demon of himself in order to protect his own - which is far more of a mafia attitude than an ADA one, even if, just like with Chuuya, I’m not sure I can imagine him in the other organisation.

The ADA will always be the ADA, and the PM will always be the PM, but together they can be better than they were before on their own. Currently they seem to be on a tentative truce of sorts, uncertain about doing things together and constantly in a state of tension. If they can get to a point where they trust each other more implicitly, that’s where the real strength is going to come from - something that Mori saw himself, when sending Chuuya out to help Dazai - and yet it won’t just be in the sense of power and how well they perform in their casework and missions, but strength of character, in who they are as people.

[vanikolya]

RULES & UPDATES [last big update: 11/08/22]

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GENERAL INFO & RULES

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masterlist + tiktok account @scribblingaster for more genshin impact content

requests: OPEN! however, literally only open for sigma from bsd (or if you have a request for multiple bsd characters including sigma ig) bc im SO EXCITED about his anime debut

(i accept headcanons, alphabet headcanons)

working on 9 request(s)

other request prompts: flower prompts

rules: 

no nsfw requests! i am asexual myself and whilst i could write these, they make me heavily uncomfortable afterwards

requests based around sensitive topics are taken, the posts will be stated with trigger warnings accordingly. 

this blog is character x reader, not character x oc or character x character, so please do not request for ship content!

i write gender neutral! i'm not even really sure how to include gender into most headcanons to be honest, but you can feel free to specify a gender if you think it might be something that comes up

since i dont write smut anyway, i will write for any character 13 and up, unless they're one of those "i know she looks 8 but shes immortal and actually 1000 its fine" characters. characters with no canon age who are 13-18 coded are also fine

before requesting, check my fandom lists to see where i'm up to with that show, whether i've read the manga or not, so that spoilers for me can be kept to a minimum!

this is more of a notice, however, if your request somehow breaks these rules, or otherwise cannot be written, i will be answering it to say so, just so you are aware i won't be accepting your request, and that i'm not just taking long.

another not really a rule, but; this blog is not on a schedule, i am a full time worker with adhd and autism and it can be likely your request will get delayed either due to my work, bad focus and time management, or simply because i'm not currently as focused on the fandom of interest as i used to be, as i only really focus on one or two quite intensely at a time (although i've found my interests are more of a rotation of my favorites, it's very likely i'll come back to old unanswered requests). i understand if this makes you less eager to request from me specifically! at the end of the day, we're all just doing this for fun, so if you're willing to risk the wait then i'm grateful for your request and if not, i hope you find someone else to take it! /gen 🥰

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FANDOMS

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unless specified, please assume i haven’t read the manga for any of these shows where the manga goes on longer than the anime! i plan to read those and would appreciate not being spoiled.

the world ends with you (i haven't finished neo yet but i do have it! :D)

genshin impact (+webtoon) (i wont write for sayu as whilst she is 15 i think she is often categorised with the younger children and has a younger child model so its just my personal pref)

omori (i have not played the omori route yet)

tears of themis

spy x family

jet set radio (for what its worth, considering i know only like one person who likes this LMAO)

the disastrous life of saiki k

case study of vanitas (+up to volume 10)

bungo stray dogs (+up to volume 23)

black butler (+manga)

hetalia

magi (+manga)

assassination classroom

free! iwatobi swim club

tdiapt/hataraku maou-sama

death note

yuri on ice

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[chuuyas--wine-bottle]

For the Tainted King of the Sheep and possibilities

Ok BSD kiddos, it’s theory time so allow me to throw some more at you about how our great lord Nakahara Chuuya can die or what can happen to him at the end of BSD and such. 

Please note that, this contains spoilers from 15 LN, Dead Apple, and the current timeline of the manga. Proceed at your own risk. 

Also feel free to ask me questions or add your stuff and rb!

He is already dead: No, listen to me. As mentioned in 15 LN, how come all the children who were experimented to have Arahabaki had died, but then when they tried to put it in Chuuya, somehow Chuuya was the only one who had managed to get merged with him? Well first I would like to say that, perhaps Chuuya was really an exception and managed it on his own way. Or had the government scientist kept him in the lab for a longer period of time when they had realized that Chuuya was capable of having Arhabaki within him. And of course, he has to pay for it by having No Longer Human always backing him up. Now the more serious point, Chuuya had died like other children, except it was Arahabaki who kept him alive. So the Chuuya we see now isn’t the one who was born without an ability, it’s Arahabaki in Chuuya’s body is what we really see. That voice you hear is not Chuuya’s but Arahabaki’s. You could argue, then how come those kids died and Arahabaki did not keep them alive, but then decided to keep Chuuya alive? it is completely possible that either Chuuya is an exception, or he is just something more than a human. Arahabaki could have potentially noticed what Chuuya could be capable of doing in future and therefore decided to keep him alive even after 7 year old Chuuya had died. 

Which leads to the second possibility; 

Arahabaki Could be the one ending Chuuya: Well, duh! Corruption can kill Chuuya if Dazai isn’t there. But, recently I had seen a thread on twitter; explaining all the swirls of letters when Dazai had touched Chuuya’s cheek to cancel out Tainted. At one point the author speaks about how Shibusawa’s mist/fog did not affect Chuuya at all and it was simply because of previously and even afterwards coming in skin to skin contact with Dazai; Gravity Manipulation was pushing the mist away from them + kept them floating. Now how come even after Dazai touching him did not cancel out Gravity Manipulation but only Tainted? There are two possibilities. 1.  No Longer Human only cancel out some part of the ability of the people who are actually born without an ability. It makes sense since Chuuya was originally born without an ability and For The Tainted Sorrow was placed in him. While Dazai couldn’t cancel Lovecraft since its not an ability. He can cancel out Atsushi’s because he was born with it. So Dazai could cancel Tainted but not the Gravity Manipulation part, which kept them floating in air (because as mentioned in Double Black episode, if Chuuya touches something or someone, he can keep them on air with his ability) OR, 2. Dazai was exhausted from all the stress + the stabbing, so No Longer Human could only cancel out bits of Chuuya’s ability. Which now lastly guides us to the chance of No Longer Human not being able to cancel Chuuya’s ability to a full extent.

Now the third possibility will be; 

Chuuya can die even if Dazai is there: As I have mentioned on the previous possibility, Chuuya can still die if No Longer Human is not able to stop For The Tainted Sorrow due to Arahabaki controlling Chuuya, because rounding it up to possibility one, Chuuya is already dead and the Chuuya we see is actually Arahabaki. Like think about it, Dead Apple could have been the ending for Chuuya if NLH did not work on him or if it was not placed in between season two and the current manga timeline and was rather an extension of the current timeline. So for example, if there is another massacre and war like Dead Apple or the Guild Arc, and if Dazai is exhausted; NLH would also be weakened because Dazai’s ability is always turned on and he can not simple control how it works. If NLH is weakened because of Dazai’s physical state such as exhaustion or illness, there is a chance that it will not work on Chuuya to a greater extent or not at all. This brings in the question of whose ability is more powerful? Dazai’s or Chuuya’s? Both of them are unique, while No Longer Human is a defense based ability,  For The Tainted Sorrow is an attack + defense based ability and this is why the legendary partner/relationship of Double Black is really essential for one another. However; if something happens to Dazai and even if he is alive, it simply does not change the fact that Arahabaki in Chuuya is still more or less an actual god. In conclusion of this possibility, Arahabaki can actually overtake No Longer Human. On top of that we do not know how much really NLH can do because we, YET lack Dazai’s back story. 

This leaves us with two endings for Chuuya at the end of BSD; 

Him dying, or

Him living. 

Now you may have been wondering why in the world Arahabaki would destroy it’s vessel? Well you are right, why would it? As mentioned in chapter 70, there is someone who is above Fyodor and two more members in the Decay of The Angels unrevealed. However, we do not know what their ability is, let alone who they are. It is clearly possible for one of these three people to have an ability which can make a person’s ability go out of their control. It’s completely not impossible since we have have had Odasaku and Gide in Dark Era sharing the same ability. We also have Dazai’s ability where it stops an ability and Fyodor’s ability where he can kill someone (ironic since if Dazai touches Chuuya he can stop Tainted, meaning he lets Chuuya live but if Fyodor touches Chuuya, he can die.)  Fukuzawa’s All men are Equal is also an extraordinary ability because abilities like Atsushi’s and Kyouka’s were able to get under control because of his ability. On contratory to Fukuzawa’s ability, there can be an ability which does the opposite of Fukuzawa’s All Men are Equal. This is also more of less the plot of Dead Apple when you think about it. However, if this really happens then Chuuya’s death flag is quite up high along with his partner, Dazai Osamu. I also like to belive that during Cannibalism arc Ranpo knew what can happen later and decided to keep him and Chuuya busy in Poe’s book. If we reflect back to Dead Apple, we have Ranpo; who knew the moment what was up  when he saw Shibusawa’s case request. Then we have Chuuya who basically pushed the door open for the Shin Soukoku trio to be able to fight Shibusawa. Resulting both of them into being quite the important characters. It makes a lot of sense when we also consider that Cannibalism arc was an extremely risky time for everyone. This could be used as a foreshadowing for the later chapters where Asagiri may or may not decide to use (and ends up killing) Chuuya as a decoy to distract the bigger threat of the enemy while Shin Soukoku trio gear ups. Not blaming Asagiri or anything but the enemy can clearly target Chuuya as their number one priority because of his strong ability, his importance to the Port Mafia as an executive and not to mention Fyodor has all the records of all the member of the Port Mafia from Cannibalism arc. And cancelling Chuuya out would give enemy a higher chance of winning. 

You can argue with Chuuya’s popularity but honestly, Nothing in BSD is certain and I will say it again, we should all be prepare for something happening to our favs in near future, really. 

[tryingtofeelanything]

Eventually...

English Bungou Stray Dogs Soukoku (just a bit at the end) & platonic Dazatsu One shot SFW (TW though : implied suicide attempts)

For DazaixHappiness week 2nd Day : How to suicide love / Birthday party. Third day will be on my art blog again. This... got out of hand. Like, it was supposed to be much shorter and somehow it feels like it changed into a series of short stories with a shared story line more than a whole, single one shot. I ended this in a rush honestly and, as some of you know, I had to translate it in English after getting done with the original version. So I really, really hope it’s not too bad. I did work hard on it. I may fix this when I’ll post int on AO3... probably next week, I hope. Oh, by the way, this has some references, well, about BSD manga and BSD Wan, but also about the real life authors. Can you spot them~? Happy birthday, Dazai~! ღ

    June 11th.

    The clinking noises of typing on a keyboard, with a tolerable speed, mingled in a well-known tune, of those sounds creating unfailing everyday life and familiarity, even where it wasn’t meant to appear. Atsushi looked up from the screen of the laptop settled in front of him for a few seconds, searching for the appropriate word he could not get a grab on. His gaze briefly scanned the office facing him, quickly noting a few of his colleagues in their most usual situation. In front of him, the grating of the plastic bag, wriggled with meticulous regularity, to the rhythm of Ranpo’s fingers getting one sweet after another. To his right, the sounds of Kunikida’s keyboard, smashed at an exaggerated, almost nervous speed. Leaning against one of the windows, Kenji’s heel nonchalantly tapping the floor, not caring about any tempo, too occupied as he was watching the city-dwellers’ swarming life. Behind his back, another sound, a lot less pleasant to his ears, of metallic items grinding against each other ; Yosano, busy with “maintaining” her “work tools". Finally, a few steps away, Naomi’s enamored monologue, having some tea with her brother between two files. The scenery was one of a distressing banality, some that could only be noticed, eventually, by someone who had not known the slow repetition of everyday life for far too many years.

    Both two-tone eyes found their way back to the screen in order to type a few letters without real confidence. The young man was trying to remember the previous afternoon so that he could render it into the most accurate report he could master. The route he had followed with Dazai and the comments the latter had done about the case involved back then - a potential abduction of a kid on account of an ability - paraded in his mind. He reassessed his mentor’s words. This feeling was getting familiar too, but he could not prevent the surprise from overwhelming him every time he realized how right his reasoning and anticipations were once the investigation was solved. By the way…

    He examined the small space on the screen giving the time in a digital format. The morning was getting quite late, and Dazai had still not passed the door of the Agency. Atsushi thought it right to mention it out loud. As if this situation was not a part of everyday life too - some familiarities are not good to keep. Kunikida’s frantic typing stopped. A sigh replaced them.

    “ Nothing to worry about. He’ll just appear from nowhere in a poor state or I’ll get a call soon from the police office to pick him out of there. It’s always like that at this part of the year. You can expect, starting from now, two very hard weeks. Take it as a test. ”

    “ A test ? Why this part of the year ? ”, Atsushi asked, looking perfectly confused.

    “ One : the test. To determine how long you’re still going to be able to put up with this whining wimp. Two : this part of the year. This desperate case’s birthday. It’s surprising he hasn’t started harassing you yet. Get ready. The longer it takes to happen, the hardest it will be. ”

    Atsushi was opening his mouth again still looking as much questioning. His colleague stopped him :

    “ Yes, two weeks. One before it, when he does all of his ‘preparations’. It seems like he does all of his ‘best attempts’ from the previous year. One year ago, it was death by suffocation, defenestration from a rooftop. Among other ones, of course. And the second week is after his birthday. Since he couldn’t get into his grave, he harasses his colleagues instead to beg for money as a birthday gift. Ah, right… It’s exactly on June 19th. You can get yourself ready mentally-speaking. And to do his work too, potentially. Of course, he doesn’t do anything here for those two weeks. At least, even less than usual. ”

    Tanizaki’s voice raised from behind the wooden screen hiding the sofa from the desks :

    “ That’s impressing, Kunikida ! I couldn’t remember everyone’s birthday if I wasn’t checking on my calendar. I even forgot Dazai was born in June. ”

    Kunikida answered nothing ; he looked like he was hiding some embarrassment, though. Atsushi saw him slide a hand towards his precious notebook, carefully settled close to his workstation. He wondered if he had written every members’ birthday right beside his “ ideals ”. Even Dazai’s. From sheer curiosity, the boy would have wanted to ask about it. His probable reaction appeared in his mind before he could do it, however, and he immediately changed his mind.

    “ Ah, now that I think about it, wasn’t there an attempt with fireworks too, last year ? ”, Tanizaki said, coming back to the part of the room dedicated to work.

    The newest recruit from the Agency quickly understood that it had been an attempt to blow himself up in the middle of “ fireworks "… Could they really get accustomed to this… strange part of Dazai’s personality so casually ? His colleagues got hooked on it and started talking about the incident. It seemed that Dazai had "accidentally” ran into a stock of explosive devices. And some people getting instructions right from the government owned the warehouse in question. Someone called “Sakaguchi”, coming right from the Special ability Department, had personally taken care of this case. No one really knew who was this Sakaguchi, by the way - and it seemed liked Dazai had made sure no one would know anything.

    Eventually, only one conclusion imposed on Atsushi. His mentor’s birthday did not sound like it was favorable for celebrations. It felt too much familiar. And it was also so sad. Even for someone like Dazai…

    His decision was made. Whatever kind of frowns he could get from his colleagues or Ranpo’s mocking smirk. He would prove that this day could be celebrated : he would hold a birthday party, and a decent one ! After all, he owned him at least that. Against all odds, after some obvious reluctance, everyone was (relatively) convinced by the newcomer’s enthusiasm.

.

    The first considerations and preparations were not difficult to do. The main guest hardly sent any sign of life in the two days following Atsushi’s decision. He proclaimed himself “ ill from an unknown illness with, as the main symptom, the inability to leave one’s bed ” on the first day, with a phone call to Kunikida. The following afternoon, he was using the same number to send him a message with a shopping list consisting mainly of alcoholic drinks. His partner almost threw his phone across the nearest window, before he remembered it was his. The only real risk, actually, was that Dazai could annoy the Agency members so much that they would give up on any kind of celebration… like the previous year, or so it seemed.

    The place did not pose any major problem either ; or rather, choices were very limited so that they did not really have to wonder about it. They would use the Agency, temporarily pushing desks against the walls - it took Kunikida some time to get convinced  ; it was promised that only he could touch his desk to move it. They did not have any budget to rent a hall and no one owned a place big enough for them to meet all and not being cramped. The sum on one of Akutagawa’s paychecks, he had shown him once as his monthly earnings, furtively and treacherously crossed his mind.

    Talking about Akutagawa… Maybe he was thinking too much about it, but, after the place, should they consider the guests…? Of course, all of the Agency was invited, but should he think beyond that ? He did not know who Dazai could meet outside of work at all… Or if there was anyone. Probably ? After all, Dazai was popular… Well, that’s what he was thinking, at least ? He could think about it as much as he could, his mentor never mentioned anyone Atsushi did not know directly from their mutual employer. Except from… one person, one he talked about only to criticize them in a negative way ? Who was from the opposite side - but they currently were on a truce and so wondering about it was possible.

    Now that he was studying this case - something that Dazai had skillfully avoided until now, it seemed, by only sliding implied comments, in moments and situations which would prevent anyone from wondering immediately about their frequency -, his ex-partner was rather often mentioned. It was only things like “ I’m sure a certain micro mafia was there ”, “ it smells like hat rack, don’t you think ? ”, “ I rarely had such a bad moment, except with some chuu-huahua ”. That being said, Atsushi could brag about starting to know him well ; he could now easily determine when Dazai was mentioning Chuuya Nakahara, even though he never used his name, but a myriad of degrading diminutives from what sounded like an infinite list. And yet, he did mention him, and he had done it often since their hard-luck story with the Guild. Did they meet outside of work ? Nothing could prove it, but something like instinct whispered to Atsushi that, yes, they did. Anyway, no one could talk so regularly about someone else… not wanting it at all… right…?

    Bringing it up to his colleagues was out of the question. They would only try to put him off this rather crazy idea and he would surely regret not trying. Well, it was a bit of a hazardous bet…

    This morning, just before heading to work, and as he let Kyouka leave first, Atsushi took a decision he would have thought inconceivable just a few minutes before it : he grabbed his second-hand cellphone, opened his contacts list and searched for Akutagawa’s name. How had they exchanged their phone number was a mystery even for them. The facts were that they both had it and had not erased in only minutes after saving it.  Using it was another whole story though… It was a true first time for the young man this one day.

    The tone of the call echoed for a long time and he thought Akutagawa would never answer. Yet, as the answerphone was about to set off, he heard someone answering the call. Then, silence.

    “ H-hello ? Um, Akutagawa…? ”

    Still, the same silence. Atsushi held his breath, both of his hands tensing around his phone, which was like glued to his ear. He repeated the name of the one who was supposed to be at the other end of the line in a questioning mumbling.

    “ What do you want, Jinko ? ”

    Atsushi swore silently that he would never admit he jumped from surprise at this very moment.

    “ Akutagawa… I have something to ask you ”, he stated with a tone he wished sounded solemn.

    A slight sound came to his ear, like a snort, but he got no… “human” answer. After another moment of hesitation, he hurried to get to the point, realizing the person he was calling could just decide to put the phone down on him any time.

    “ What do you know about Dazai and Chuuya’s… relationship ? ”

    Akutagawa’s surprise was not exactly audible. However his… “occasional partner” (?) felt it very clearly. And was only granted by silence again. As he was trying to repeat his question, he found himself bumping against a wall of oppositions. For a reason he could not understand, mentioning this subject was absolutely forbidden. He insisted.

    “ What do you want to do about this information ? ”

    Fatal question. Admitting the reason of his wonders meant that he could not decline the young man’s presence the night of June 19th. Dazai would not be pleased about that, for sure. As he would complain about Chuuya being here too anyway. Yet… He sighed. This was the only concession he would do to reach his goal.

    Akutagawa’s interest was still as quiet, but it increased in an almost visible way through the communication. To the point that Atsushi thought about sitting down for a moment, and he would have done it, if the idea of physically lowering down did not repel him so much - well, Atsushi would have been the only witness, but it was already too much…

    Talking about his initiative did not get him any real answer to his question, or any explanation either, though. However, he understood that Akutagawa was giving him his approval. Only his approval. Before hanging up with no warning. The boy kept the phone against his temple for a while, staring at the immaculate and shining sink of his kitchenette, looking outraged. As he was staying motionless, in order to get sure he could really not hear anything from the other end of the line anymore, the device vibrated against him to inform him about the reception of a message. He eventually pulled it away from his face and checked the small screen. A message from his recent call - the very first one from him - was displayed, with a phone number. Atsushi’s heart rate suffered from some uncontrolled frenzy.

    Taking some furtive side glances around him, as he was about to do something particularly compromising, he saved the series of numbers in his contacts list under the name “Nakahara”. Then, after a long moment of hesitation, he opened it. Another minute passed with his finger hovering over the phone call icon. He eventually could not find the strength for that and chose to write a written message instead. Today was still a day full of first times, anyway.

    Atsushi swiftly left home, in order to not get late. He attempted, with some difficulty, to find a way to formulate his invitation message to someone he hardly knew, but he knew to be quite short-tempered and not exactly the kind to jump at an event involving his ex-partner - at least from joy… While he was barely and somehow avoiding some passer-by, the text, modified so many times already, took on a more and more look of some sort of official declaration of intent and he wondered if his message could ever get too long to be sent… It was about truce - several times, just in case -, about free - but really, really free, no obligation at all here ! - choice and finally, after two paragraphs and a few dozens lines, about Dazai. At last, after reading it again for the fifth time, he pushed the sending icon as if it was a button that had something about life and death. The young detective then realized he had frozen on a crosswalk and hurried to reach the building where the Agency was waiting for him.

    As he was about to enter the building, his phone vibrated again. He jumped as if he was under a death threat. Nakahara Chuuya’s name was displayed on the screen like an order to answer in the following second. Maybe was he really under such threat…

    “ What’s that ?! ”, was the immediate exclamation, even before any kind of ‘h’ from a very hypothetical ‘hello’ could be articulated. “ Nakajima… The were-tiger, Dazai’s newest flunky, huh ?! How did you get this number ?! I didn’t understand anything ! I am supposed to do something for this idiot ?! With his stupid bunch of ‘good people’ or something ?! What did this pathetic excuse for a human being do to you to force you into asking me something like that ?! ”

    The boy stayed frozen on the threshold of the building, one arm reaching for the door. He jumped again when the Mafia executive’s voice resounded, pressing him to answer.

    “ I… What should I start to answer first…? ”

    The whole conversation sounded unreal. Like a dialogue of the deaf too, for its first half, at least. It also lasted quite a long time, considering how they got so little things out of it when it ended… At least enough for Kunikida to poke his head through several windows of the agency to check if their newest recruit was finally coming and, when he finally spotted him, to scream at him to hurry and get in. Chuuya got even more irritated by the mumbling that followed, half of it for his boss, the other half for his call. And yet…

    “ I don’t see why I’d do anything for this idiot ”, were Chuuya’s last words before curtly hanging up. “ I don’t owe him anything and I’ve better to do than wasting my time for him. I don’t have anything planned for this day but even doing nothing is more interesting than putting up with him. I’ll see. If I want to bump someone off. ”

    Once again, Atsushi found himself confronted with the sound signal informing the call had ended without prior warning. Nakahara did sound less… aggressive than at the beginning of the conversation. Despite the meaning of his words, he had high hopes. Was his intuition right…? He hoped so. Really. Otherwise, the whole night would turn into a fiasco…

—————————————————————

    After this first tacit victory, though, nothing happened as planned anymore. Dazai decided to appear again three days before his birthday, in one piece. Sources of anxiety kept accumulating starting from then : their purchases - bought with everyone’s savings, the Agency could not really help them with money - disappeared, the main reason of the party kept coming in without prior warning when they were discussing preparations and how to organize them… He even looked like he came out of nowhere, once, while Yosano escorted Atsushi to get some drinks and snacks. The latter was convinced that he would lose a few years of life expectancy in this episode…

    On June 18th was the climax. Dazai entered the agency in the middle of the morning, opening the door with a wide and dramatic move. Atsushi felt his hair stand on the back of his neck in an absolute warning sign. He exclaimed with a fake solemnity that he had a great announcement to do.

    “ I’m here to bid farewell to you all ! This time, I’m about to find the woman of my dreams for a perfect shinju ! Well, not like I’ve any r…! ”

    “ Dazai ! ”

    Atsushi’s blood boiled. Everyone’s eyes were suddenly on him.

    “ Please come to work tomorrow ! Please ! ”

    Those times when Atsushi could actually surprise Dazai were rare. He once even made it his goal. Unfortunately, he could not fully appreciate the way chocolate eyes widened in surprise for a short moment. The expression only fleetingly crossed his face before his features softened back to let a light sigh escape.

    “ Very well. If, really, you cannot go without me, I’ll make an effort for you. ”

    The corner of his lips tensed in a slight smile.

    “ But well, Atsushi… I’m so sorry. I am really not interested in men. ”

    Atsushi looked away, unable to choose between feeling embarrassment or dismay.

—————————————————————

    June 19th.

    Atsushi should not be so nervous for something so trivial. He was. Definitely. He was not Osamu Dazai but he had already thought about dozens of worst-case scenarios involving the party. It could not go well. Why did he even get such idea ? Ah… no, no, no. Get a hold of yourself, Atsushi ! Everything will be alright if everyone believes in it…!

    The young man had come earlier than usual to work after he got out of his usual way to stop at a flower shop. The premises were still empty when he entered. Kyouka should not take long to come in, though ; she was also about to depart when he left her. After he carefully hid a perfectly wrapped packet - two hours and nine tries had been needed to do it, and his young roommate had come to his rescue for the last one - in a drawer of his desk, praying every god he could think of for it not to disappear like half of the drinks and the cardboard for ornaments. After some time of thinking it through, he put his bouquet on the desk Dazai was supposed to use. He adjusted the composition a bit - daffodils ending the season and iris, interspersed by a few flowers of vibrant bluebells, enhanced by some ribbons here and there. He trusted the seller entirely for his choice. Dazai had never shown any interest for flowers ; they had felt like a good idea as a first present, before he would give, later in the evening, his actual gift - a book. Atsushi was sure about that one : Dazai liked reading a lot. He had taken a long time examining publications for sale in a small book store sitting close to his home. His choice had eventually inclined towards a collection of short stories. One hundred views on Mount Fuji. His mentor was hard to grasp, he would not have pretended he knew him that well. Yet, this work had immediately felt fitting. He just hoped he had not already read it.

    The front door slid open with a very light noise. He smiled at Kyouka while she closed it as quietly.

    “ You’re the first one to come ”, he noticed.

    “ Kunikida is here too. ”

    “ He’s early too. ”

    “ He’s waiting in front of the door. ”

    A slight, more bothered than amused, laugh passed through Atsushi’s lips. He checked the clock hanging on the wall. Kunikida would still wait 3 minutes and 36 seconds before turning the handle…

    Dazai only came around 3 in the afternoon, with a wide pout crossing his face and looking particularly bothered from the effort he had to do to reach the agency. As he made his way to “his” couch, under Kunikida’s unbroken flood of blame, Atsushi rushed to his bunch of flowers to hand it to him.

    “ Happy birthday, Dazai ! ”

    The flowers were stared at from some distance away for a while, with an unreadable but almost suspicious expression. Then Dazai’s shoulder shook from a silent laugh and he took the gift. The boy could not exactly ignore the feeling of relief spreading in his chest.

    The following hour, however, was only whining and Kunilkida’s more than irritated comments, getting to the point that no one could really work on any kind of task. Tanizaki, Naomi, and Kenji were luckier : they were on a small business trip with no real consequences for a client. They should not be long to get back, by the way. Atsushi hopped everything would go as planned and there would not be any setback.

    The phone rang. Kunikida, as usual, picked it up. After the first formalities - identity, reason of the call, essential details about the case -, he spent a long time listening to, obviously, some client’s explanation. When the call ended, he silently stood up and made his way to Fukuzawa’s office, under Dazai’s suspicious gaze. He came out a few minutes later.

    “ Dazai ! Tear off your rear end from this couch and get back to work ! ”

    The succession of complaints this sole sentence triggered surprised no one. Kunikida did not let a single one get fully worded and vehemently pushed his partner towards the door. Atsushi could only exchange a quick glance with him and got up from his own seat.

    The door, of the agency, then of the building, closed behind both men. Dazai immediately stopped his lamentations to move on to an amused smile instead :

    “ So, then, where were we meant to go oh so suddenly ? ”

    Kunikida was about to tell him the exact place ; he remained silent as he turned to the young man and met his gaze. A sigh escaped him.

    “ You’ve already figured everything out, haven’t you ? … So you were the one who stole Atsushi’s purchases ? ”

    “ So, how long do we have to stay outside ? ”, the young brown haired man asked, obviously avoiding the last question.

    “ I figured that, with the time to go there, quickly stop and go back, it would take one hour and forty-two minutes ”, his colleague speculated, swiftly browsing his notebook. “ It’s quite far away from here. ”

    “ Well then, Kunikida, instead of running to some place where no one is waiting for us, and since you wouldn’t let me have a drink meanwhile, you could buy me a coffee ? It’s supposed to be my day, right ? ”

    Another sigh. At least, Kunikida could find a new café, and a rather nice - and expensive for his wallet, the only one to suffer - one. The Agency’s usual café was not an option, since Kenji, Naomi, and Tanizaki could come back at any moment and see them.

—————————————————————.

    Two hours later - eighteen minutes were lost because of Dazai, who did not find anything better than offering a young waitress to chose her favorite bridge for them to jump from it together, almost crudely -, both partners appeared again in the narrow hall leading to their workplace. Seeing Kunikida hurriedly typing something on his phone, his colleague, uselessly loud, exclaimed that their client had been particularly impolite not waiting for them although they had made the trip for him only. A series of hasty sounds, hurried steps among them, came from behind the door. Eventually, Kunikida put a hand on the handle, glancing one last time at Dazai to show him clearly that his patience was getting to an end and that he would not do that much for him so soon anymore, and finally entered the room, taking a side step so that the main guest could get a good look at the work done while they were away. The way chocolate eyes widened for a quick instant of surprise did not look fake.

    Atsushi really had put his heart and soul into it. The whole thing was a bit precarious, the desks somehow pushed on the sides, a few garlands clumsily hanged up and clearly cheap (the cardboard holding ornaments had suddenly reappeared in the afternoon in Fukuzawa’s office, whereas the latter would have never had the absurd idea of stealing it, and Atsushi would have never dared to hid it there), but the efforts were obvious.

    “ Once again, happy birthday, Dazai ! ”

    The latter looked down at the radiant smile from his… protégé ? Yes, maybe, a bit, he surreptitiously thought while noticing the wrapped packed he was handing him. He took it with a questioning look and, not caring about any decency, he unwrapped it immediately. Once again, a slight surprise briefly appeared on his face when he silently read the title.

    “ I hope you haven’t already read it… ”

    “ Actually, I did ”, he admitted, with a strange smile, softer than what he got those around him used to. “ But it’s a nice book. I wouldn’t mind reading it again. Thank you, Atsushi. ”

    Even someone like Dazai, supposedly, could be delighted about the expression of joy, mixed with relief, which brightened Atsushi’s face at this moment.

    It was however quickly interrupted when a black figure, which did obviously not belong there, but was clearly determined to firmly stay, slightly moved from a less lighted corner looking like it was made just for it. Akutagawa’s dark gray eyes were staring at Dazai with a piercing gaze. The latter looked sideways towards Atsushi, looking clearly disapproving. The boy answered with an apologizing smile. Dazai immediately examined the room, suspicious.

    The first part of the evening went without a problem. Atsushi tried to approach Akutagawa cordially a few times. He kept his distance, scanning Dazai’s every move. The latter emptied a generous amount of bottles of sake, even though he was significantly helped by Yosano, who quickly became very jolly…

    The door opened abruptly in a relative crash. Silence fell onto them immediately as everyone turned to another black figure, with only fire-like hair and blue eyes on watch standing out. A few minutes passed with no movement.

    “ What ? Do you want a photo ? ”, Chuuya flung, closing the door behind him without any care for gentleness.

    Atsushi cast a quick glance at Dazai. He had an ostentatious pout on his face. Chuuya, maybe not feeling so at ease, quickly took a look at everyone and stopped at Dazai with a disdainful glare. He walked to him with fast steps and forced what clearly looked like some bottle of alcohol wrapped in gift wrap onto the detective’s chest.

    “ What is a Mafia hat rack doing here ? ”, the young brown haired man let out once he found his breath and grabbed the bottle with a critical look. “ And I hope it’s not one of your dated wine inside. ”

    “ This is not the first time I’m coming here and anyway, you sneak in our headquarters whenever you feel like it, so I don’t see a problem. And about my wines, there is a difference between dated barrels and quality ones, you ignorant idiot ! ”

    “ You’re the one with awful tastes, chibi. "  

   Dazai’s eyes stopped on a single peach blossom, carefully attached to the wrap with a thin ribbon tied around the bottleneck. He looked up at Chuuya, raising an eyebrow, but it was thoroughly avoided. Conversations echoed back around them as they found a new - more consensual - topic to biker. Dazai unwrapped the gift meanwhile, to find a high-quality bottle of sake. He did not make any comment about it, which clearly pointed out his approval. A very informed eye would have seen him surreptitiously slide the flower in one of his coat pockets. If Atsushi did not see it, watching them interact, he came to the conclusion that his idea had not been so bad. He would have not been able to say why he had this feeling though.

    Maybe was it because, from this moment, Chuuya entirely monopolized Dazai’s attention. Sure, they only complained about each other. Yosano was interrupting them from time to time with a not so really elegant, loud laugh. The young man with auburn hair looked at her.

    " She looks a bit like Kouyou when she’s way too drunk… ”

    “ Ugh, Chuuya, you could’ve avoided talking about that. ”

    “ You wanna talk about you when you’re drunk as fuck ?! ”

    “ Are you sure you want to get on such a dangerous topic, Chuuya ? I have a lot of compromising files involving Chuuya and alcohol… ”

    “ Hah ?! And what if you shut up for a while so that we can all have five minutes’ peace ?! … I’m going out for a while before I really make you choke on my hands right here and there ! And none of your buddies here could save you ! ”

    “ Oh, chibikko is worrying about me now ? I would almost be touched if it didn’t come from a midget with such bad tastes… ”

    Chuuya’s “ go fuck yourself ! ”, followed by the slam of the door behind him, actually meant “ I’ll be back soon ”. No one was surprised when, only five minutes later, Dazai announced he was going to get him. He was so small that some passerby could mistake him for a child stuck on the roof and call the emergency number for nothing. No one thought about asking him how he knew the Mafia executive was on the roof either.

    Chuuya was barely starting on a cigarette, leaning his elbows on the fence separating him from the asphalt of the street, around twenty meters below. He did not react when Dazai’s footsteps got closer, watching the darkened sky with no stars, his back willingly exposed. He turned his blue eyes to him only when his ex-partner came to lean against the fence too.

    “ I’ve never asked you to follow me. ”

    “ I know. If you had, I wouldn’t have come. ”

    A grumble answered him. Chuuya’s gaze turned back to the city spreading in front of them. A simple and calm silence settled for a few minutes. Then Dazai’s voice broke it gently :

    “ Why did you accept Atsushi’s invite ? It’s quite impressive he could convince you. ”

    Chuuya took the time to take a long puff out of his cigarette before starting an answer.

    “ I was just curious, to see that someone actually cared that much for you. I wanted to see… your new colleagues and all… ”

    Dazai just looked at him in silence, his face unreadable. Chuuya let him avoid the comment. He knew this face. He knew it hid the will to not let any kind of emotion transpire. It wasn’t all that hard to admit he was just a bit thankful…

    “ Besides, Chuuya ! "

   The suddenly joyful tone was rather worrying.

    " I’m still waiting for your gift ! ”

    “ Hah ? I’ve already given it to you, moron. ”

    “ Ah, Chuuya, I would’ve never thought you were this shy. I even have no choice but take it myself. ”

    A flash of understanding crossed Chuuya’s gaze before Dazai slid one hand on his cheek to bring their faces closer. Surprise first tensed the jaw under his long and thin digits. A breath imitating a sigh gratified the young brown haired man and the jaw slightly rotated so that their lips could perfectly mold together in an innocent kiss. They kept still against each other for some time, just enjoying the softness of the touch. It felt like the traffic had stopped under their feet, the only sounds from the city echoing from far away. A light laugh, lacking any kind of animosity, even betraying longing, made the throat wrapped in a leather choker shake.

    “ You’re horribly sentimental tonight. It’s disturbing. ”

    “ Don’t worry like that, Chuuya. It’s just a foretaste for what is coming tonight. You should read it as a signal telling you not to drink too much. When this party is over, I’m going back with you. ”

    Dazai’s voice gradually got lower, turning into a whisper pleasantly vibrating against the young man’s lips. He let a few of his strands of hair getting gently pushed away by a bandaged hand. Before their lips met for a second time, he opened his to make a quick comment. However, his partner forestalled it :

    “ You know my walls are too thin for me to bring you home. ”

    Chuuya felt the need to whisper the few letters of “ pervert ” before kissing him again, even though that allowed his lover to feel his smile which wouldn’t erase, nor even fade. They had had a lot of “accidents” since their temporary partnership against Lovecraft and had found themselves in crumpled and soiled sheets of the mafioso’s bed several times. Their secret encounters had increased after Dostoevsky’s rats appeared in Yokohama. They started to accept it, to discuss without insulting each other, just lying together in bed, just barely a few weeks earlier. Dazai never had demonstrated any form of… “romanticism”. Kissing had only been used for their provoking, sometimes brutal game of seduction. Both pupils encircled with blue tones watched this face, formerly wrapped in bandages, compresses and band-aids. They got briefly covered by two eyelids, in silent admission. This naive boy had managed the achievement of making Dazai feel happy for just one night. Or at least, as happy as Dazai could be…

    Footsteps revealed a third person was coming. Chuuya stepped backward in order to quickly break their embrace. His partner stopped him and put one hand on the back of his head, his fingertips pushing between red strands of hair, against his scalp, as if affectionately massaging it. The movement was meant to be soothing and he got it as a silent “it’s okay”. So he let Dazai kiss him tenderly as Atsushi froze a few meters away. The gentleness in Dazai’s eyes when they pulled away was something he had never witnessed before.

    Chuuya finally acknowledged Atsushi's presence. The boy sported two very crimson cheeks. A part of Akutagawa’s coat was pulling at his arm. He probably had advised him not to check if everything was okay on their mentors’ part while denying him any kind of explanation… The were-tiger hastily apologized and stated that they could take as much time as they want, that he was relieved to see everything was going well. A split second later, the soles of his shoes disappeared through the door leading to the last floor of the building.

    When the young man turned back to Dazai, he was smiling tenderly at him. Once again, he could interpret his silence. “ Thank you for coming ”. He let a small laugh out.

    “ You better thank Atsushi properly. ”

—————————————————————

     … it’s not so bad.

[bungou-stray-haikyuu]

Chuuya and Dazai are *edit NOT* Ex-Best Friends?!

I don’t know how many of you have gotten a hold of the 4th volume of the BSD manga, but I bought it as soon as it was released in my country and proceeded to read it on the spot. I totally enjoyed it and all (obviously), but my brain somehow passed over something that when it was pointed out to me, made my brain go ‘. . .b o o m. . .’.

That thing was located in the little mini-manga in the front and back inside covers of each physical volume and that thing happened to be the confirmation that Dazai and Chuuya are ex-best friends.

Here’s a scan from my copy to prove it:

EDIT EDIT EDIIIIIT : SO BASICALLY THE ENGLISH TRANSLATION IS WRONG AND THE CORRECT TRANSLATION IS ‘EX-PARTNER’ NOT ‘EX-BEST FRIEND’ SO SKK BFFS IS NOT CANON THIS THEORY NO LONGER WORKS BUT NEVERMIND I CAN STILL HOPE AND DREAM HAVE A GREAT DAY/NIGHT EVERYONE!

(It took me so long to understand this bit but finally, I realised Mori was addressing Chuuya as ‘Chuuya-kun, his ex-best friend’ and I just went ‘ohhhhhh’ plus it’s in bold how much more obvious can it be)

Now, as an avid shipper of platonic Soukoku (they’re my only OTP so yeah, I love them a lot), I was bouncing off the walls and a few days later I thought up a little ‘theory’ based on this new information.

So the whole 'ex-best friend' thing being canon is really making me doubt whether or not Chuuya always hated Dazai. I bet if you asked Chuuya in the present day 'would you ever be friends with Dazai' he'd probably say something along the lines of 'hell no Dazai can go drown', but I don't think it was always like that.

I think, as now canonically stated, the pair of them were best friends. They messed about together and Dazai still teased Chuuya, but it was friendly banter rather than cruel and as such, Chuuya could usually forgive Dazai if he didn’t go too far. Sure Dazai would have still been a manipulative man, but Chuuya could cope because when he wasn't being manipulative, they got on really well well together and hung out a lot with each other.

Now, fast forward to when Dazai leaves and Chuuya must feel so betrayed. His best friend left with not so much as a goodbye - the only thing being a bomb in his car. His best, and most likely only friend, just left him without a word. That's why he hates Dazai and his teasing because he remembers when that teasing used to be friendly, now it just seems to Chuuya as if Dazai doesn't realise what he did to him. That every jest reminds Chuuya of when they were friends in the Mafia, that every jest reminds Chuuya that the only goodbye he got from Dazai was a bomb - yet another prank - that blew up his car. Dazai doesn't have enough empathy to realise that Chuuya felt hurt and betrayed when Dazai left without a single word. Everyone always thinks that this 'relationship' of theirs is all it's ever been - Dazai teasing Chuuya and Chuuya getting angry and hating Dazai. I'm starting to think that's not true, that the two went out drinking together and messed about together and were brilliant partners because they were good friends and understood each other very well. Sure they had their fights like all friends do, But it was a love-hate friendship, not a hate-hate-not-actually-friendship-at-all which is what they have currently.

To throw in another small theory to add to this - the flower associated with Chuuya is a Cydonia. Apparently, according to a post I saw, the Cydonia is a symbol of love. I did my own research into this quite literally because I was curious and wanted to see if it was true and I came across this website. Cydonia is a genus not a species of plant and as such, there’s no ‘meaning’ to is as it isn’t just a single type of flower.

You can read all the information for yourself but apparently, the flowering quince is also called japonica and this caught my attention as on the post I saw it said ‘flowering of Cydonia’. As such, I followed the link to this page and saw that it was another name for a Camellia flower. I then went to this site and lo and behold, Camellias were there.

Now, the particular post had a picture that I’m pretty sure 99% of the people I know thought was official art but actually it’s fanart which blew my mind it looks so official. Anyway, the Cydonias in the art were a dark pink. Hence, I looked to the meaning of pink camellias and what is it?

Longing for you

Seems pretty fitting for Chuuya right? If you’ve read the translation of his character song it isn’t exactly happy, plus, if we take my above theory into consideration, it seems pretty plausible Chuuya is longing for Dazai, but not in a romantic way at all. He simply just wants his best friend back.

Anyway, enough of the angst, I hope you enjoyed reading this and I’d love to hear your thoughts on it (especially if I messed up the flower part). Also, I would put a picture of the fanart here but I wouldn’t be able to give credit to the artist but it’s a pretty famous one I’d think - It’s the one where Dazai is lying on his back in the snow with his eyes closed and one hand over his chest. Chuuya is leaning over him so their faces are pretty close together and Chuuya is looking towards you while holding a flower in his hand (more are scattered around the pair of them). The background is blue and blurred and there’s snow falling.

If you know who the artist is then please do give me a shout and I’ll gladly add it in along with the picture (or just a link maybe) so you don’t have my terrible description of it.