His fingers danced across the valves in the dim light. It was fascinating to him that a specific formation of the lips could create such vibrant tones and fill an entire room. It filled him with warmth, to be suitably talented at something remarkably normal. Others were impressed, of course, by his skill, but he felt perfectly comfortable recognizing his musical prowess as merely a talent. It was most certainly not an ability. No, being the greatest detective in the world was an admirable enough gift all on its own. Besides, people didn't seem to appreciate it if he was too much better than them. Ranpo was perfectly content with being a hobbyist trumpet player, albeit an exceptionally proficient one.

He enjoyed them, these weekly jazz nights at the Agency. They were the only thing that gave him absolute assurance that he was appreciated by his co-workers. It hadn't taken much convincing to instate the event as a regular activity. Fukuzawa was very cooperative when I introduced the idea to him, although he's too embarrassed to do anything but watch the fun. He does have a reputation to maintain, although Ranpo knew that no one in the Agency would lose respect for their leader solely because of any musical skills or lack thereof.

Everything else but the keyboard decrescendoed into a low but distinguishable murmur as a solo began. Yosano had been a natural choice for such an instrument because of the hand eye coordination required for using medical equipment. Ranpo hardly had to do any convincing to get her to learn how to play. He suspected she had a soft-spot for him, although his ability's judgment was clouded about anyone he knew on a deep personal level. In the case of Yosano, he could only rely on his human intuition. Her improvisation skills were marvellous, Ranpo noted, as her fingers skated along the keys in perfect rhythm.

A heavy, swing beat was maintained by the drummer hiding himself behind the rest of the players. At the beginning, Ranpo had already resigned himself to the fact that no drummer would emerge from the ranks of the Agency when an unlikely candidate approached him. Ranpo had slipped on his glasses in his shock, trying desperately to reach any sensible conclusion about why Kunikida would willingly participate in such a…chaotic activity.

"I wish for the Agency to be united and," Kunikida had paused, "though I do not approve of this crude method of reaching unification, I recognise that Fukuzawa has endorsed this tomfoolery. I am the only one of us qualified to maintain order in the form of rhythm because of my strict adherence to my Ideal, so I offer my services solely for the Agency's benefit."

Ranpo had nodded his head solemnly. He knew the real reason, of course, but also recognised that Kunikida would not look kindly on him sharing that reason. It was Ranpo's little secret that he laughed at to himself often about. Beneath that hard exterior of a strict, lawful man was someone who just wanted to play the drums because they looked fun.

Naomi liked to try a new instrument every week. She wasn't particularly skilled at any of them, but her energy was infectious. No one was too terribly bothered by her lack of talent. Her brother would have the head of anyone who put up a fuss. Tanizaki himself was partial to the saxophone. Besides Ranpo, he was the only one who had musical experience prior to the birth of jazz night. Kenji assisted Kunikida in percussion on the bongos, although he had broken a head or two along the way in his gusto.

Dazai, Atsushi, and Kirako always sat on the desks and listened to the band play. Fukuzawa would come in when he had the time, but he was a busy man. Still, Ranpo appreciated the effort he put into showing up when he was able. The soft but lively music drifted out the open windows. Pedestrians below talked and laughed and briskly paced along the sidewalks while the Agency's music reached their ears, but no evidence of the outside world ever invaded the office.

It was nights like these that the members of the Armed Detective Agency felt truly at peace. There was no arguing, no grumbling, no administration disaster, no sense of any impending danger. These were the good times, when everything else seemed to fade away.


Ougai Mori held his phone up to his ear, his other hand patting Elise's head. "I want the Americans out of our city as soon as possible. They'll disrupt the perfect balance I've created-" His hand tightened around a lock of Elise's hair. "-and I can't let them get away with that."

The person on the other side of the line spoke for a few minutes while Mori crinkled his nose in distaste.

"I've built this organisation from the ground up, I brought us to a glory previously unknown. I bested our previous leader and proved myself as the most cunning man on this earth. I will not, will not! Back down because of the American Guild." He was practically spitting flames at this point, he was so furious. "Do whatever you have to in order to ensure the Guild doesn't do anything that could jeopardise our current standing. I want them to accomplish absolutely nothing before we smite them completely." Mori paused. "Keep what I'm about to say private. Under no circumstances are you to disclose this to anyone but the executives."

"I want you to release Q"


This is my first fanfiction ever actually published. The main plot will start next chapter, but I wanted to set a peaceful stage so I could smash it to bits when the actual story comes around. Truthfully, I would have rather waited to publish this until I had a few more chapters done, but, knowing myself, I'm far more likely to complete something if I could be letting someone down by procrastinating.