"Whoever said "What you don't know can't hurt you" was an idiot. Not knowing is the worst feeling in the world."
- M.M.
Of all the inventions of mankind thus far, if he had to pick one favorite it'd have to be the railroad. Indeed, the dawn of it brought about new potential and revolutionized society in its capacity to transport goods, people, and stories farther and faster than ever before. Sure, now and days more convenient and faster methods were available, but he'd never forget his first trip aboard the chugging, whistling iron horse.
It certainly brought much needed light and excitement, not to mention relief to his feet that walked the world for over 400 years.
Four hundred? Had it truly been that many years? In all honesty, it likely was more. Unfortunately, the years tended to blend together, and for an immortal such concepts as keeping age weren't particularly necessary from the start.
Still the immortal gave a soft smile at the passing scenery; he lived a pretty good life presently. He and his companions were safe, sheltered, fed, no longer on the move with meals and a bed being restricted to possibilities. Sure, there were a few complications in how they ended up this way, but he knew that so long as they stayed together they would be fine. Especially given their current company, one of which stared boredly out the window from a seat across him.
Tuck's expression softened like that of old friends gazing at a breathtaking sunset after a calm and peaceful day. From the moment they encountered this Detective Agency, he knew they'd found a worthwhile group. Maybe even a place they could truly call home. And while he didn't necessarily need such a place, for Ari and Jay it was all he could ever ask for the two children who lead him to breaking his own rule and thus became central to his life.
Indeed, he feared the day when they no longer stood beside him to make his life worthwhile.
"Attention all passengers, attention all passengers," the overhead speakers blared, prompting heads from all areas of the train to peer up at the voice above them, "We will be arriving shortly. Please make sure to gather your belongings and return to your seats quickly. Again, we will…"
Tuck breathed in, allowing the voice to fade to the background as he gathered a worn book and the files detailing the mission at hand into his suitcase, golden eyes darting to where his companion remained nonchalantly gazing out the window with a lollipop stick peeking out between his lips. A small smile made its way on the immortal's face as he cleared the wrappers and safely packed the surviving sweets away in his pocket.
Of all the people he met, truly this young man was one that stood out among the rest for both his lively personality and impressive intellect. Indeed, Tuck met few others who came even close to this Edogawa Ranpo's skills – most of which only being able to through an ability. He wondered how a meeting between these intelligent persons would play out… Probably in tears and hurt egos.
Nevertheless, he looked forward to this new mission with the young prodigy who could solve any mystery within the blink of an eye. It was truly incredible, and never ceased to amaze Tuck, whose smile widened in anticipation of another spectacular discovery as the locomotive's wheels squealed to a stop.
The world was full of intriguing sights and wonders to behold, and the immortal couldn't help but feel a sense of vivacity as he stepped into the light. He could only hope that this time it lasted longer than the rest, and when it finally did come to a close he'd be able to find peace at last.
Most of all, he didn't know if he could take losing everything again. Cause if he learned one thing in all his years it was that surprises were always just around the corner.
…
And that certainly held true as a frustrated sound like that of a tantrum throwing child erupted from Ranpo's mouth quickly followed by the young detective's face burying itself into a pillow that muffled the preceding moan. Behind a little ways, Tuck softly closed the door that had been callously thrown open and turned a pair of sympathetic eyes on the man, speaking like a soothing parent, "It's alright Ranpo-san, everyone makes mistakes."
"I'm not everyone," came a barely audible reply, one that improved as he shot a glare at the immortal, "I'm the world's greatest detective; any problem is a piece of cake to solve – especially with my ability. Don't lump me in with ordinary people."
"Of course," Tuck nodded, moving to sit across from him in the room's modest living area, "But even extraordinary people have their off-days."
Besides, he added silently, mistakes are what make you human not ordinary.
Ranpo's expression retained notes of bitterness as he huffed and rolled over on his back to stare at the ceiling, "Am I to take that as encouragement? That in your unending life you personally met some legendary detectives who failed? That in the end they were better for it?" he narrowed his eyes, sneering at the thought, "But at what cost?"
Tuck remained silent, a small shiver at how accurate the young man's deductions rang. Indeed, he had happened across many notable figures in his journeys before meeting Aria and Jay, and their missteps were often very costly – especially to those who chose to remain around them. Ranpo was very keen to note the dangers of slipping up. Perhaps that was why he was so frustrated? Because he feared for his comrade's safety? The immortal smiled softly.
Despite his less than stellar personality, Ranpo truly was a kind man.
A sigh heavy in irritation left the man's lips as he pinched the bridge of his nose as if warding off a migraine, muttering just loud enough to hear, "Well not me. I cannot, will not, let some flimsy criminal outwit me when everything logical points to his defeat," he narrowed his eyes scrutinously, "Still, how did he survive? A choice between two identical pills? There is no way he should still be breathing. Unless he pressured them into choosing the wrong one? Or perhaps a hidden antidote..?"
Letting his words drift away, Tuck examined his hands, mulling over the details of the case presented to them. A series of deaths, all linked together by a sinister game that promised a fortune should the participant come out as a victor – a game of chance where the probability of winning was fifty-fifty. Or, at least, it should've been. According to the local authorities, more than thirteen people died from the gambit – a feat impossible by logic's standpoint, and thus astounding Ranpo even as he managed to deduce every other aspect of the case, including narrowing down the killer to three separate figures: a taxi driver, a corporate leader whose business owned a well-known casino, and a former bellhop that frequented many of the bars and gambling dens in the area.
All in all, his wit remained impressive to behold, yet the one escaping detail seemed to eat the young detective from the inside out. And as much as Tuck wanted to help, he felt it necessary for Ranpo to discover the answer on his own if only to reaffirm his position as the world's greatest detective – although, honestly, he really needn't bother in the immortal's opinion. At any rate, it wasn't like he could offer much help as every conjecture he surmised remained merely theory as opposed to the young man's concrete statements. Perhaps he would have done better to bring Jay along, as the teen also held an uncanny knack for seeing straight to the heart of things.
Sudden movement tore his attention upwards where Ranpo swiftly stood and headed toward the door without a word, leaving Tuck to blink and fumble slightly in gathering the key and his jacket before following the man out, "R-Ranpo-kun?"
"I need more information," came the simple response as the young detective walked with purpose in his step as if he knew exactly where he was going.
Tuck sighed and shook his head but continued after him without question. Whatever he had in mind, it was best that they stuck together. An uncanny chill crept up his spine at the prospect of Ranpo encountering the killer, somehow warning that the detective, eager for answers, would blindly accept a death match. The immortal suppressed a shiver.
The thought was so potent it remained with him for the remainder of that day, almost like a premonition of sorts.
It quickly proved true, yet not in the sense he would have thought as he followed a sullen Ranpo out of the tenth underground gambling house hidden away in the city. Well, formerly hidden after the keen detective brashly entered and left with such commotion that authorities were quick to pick up on the illegal activities. Understandably, many curses and death threats were thrown Ranpo's way, but that was not what prompted the frown on Tuck's face as he trailed behind the stumbling man.
"What idiots. They call that a death match? Please, I've seen more threatening rabbits than that poor excuse of a game," Ranpo growled, stumbling slightly from the narcotics swimming like poison in his blood.
"Ranpo-kun…" Tuck spoke up, reaching out in efforts to stop the man from continuing down this reckless path that steadily grew harder and harder for the immortal to tolerate – especially as each destination resulted in loose ends and increasing danger for the detective.
"What kind of challenge has such an obvious answer a two-month old could see it?" the detective continued without indication of even seeing his companion let alone hearing his calls.
"Ranpo-kun, stop."
"Honestly, can anyone in this city actually think?" the young man questioned exasperatedly, holding his hands in the air dramatically only to suddenly be snatched backwards milliseconds before a car zoomed by, its tailwind hungrily pulling his hair and clothes.
"Enough, Ranpo-kun!" Tuck snapped, prompting the named to blink as if just now recognizing his presence.
Unlike his previous, albeit fraying composure, Tuck's expression was wrought with frustration and concern as he narrowed his golden eyes almost painfully, "What do you hope to accomplish by doing this – by consistently endangering yourself for a case?"
"Quit your self-righteous pity party," Ranpo's surprise quickly transformed into a sneering glare, "You couldn't possibly understand. I must be right, and if it means risking my life in order to fulfill that then so be it. Nothing matters so long as the case is solved."
Slap!
Ranpo recoiled from the blossoming pain on his cheek. His head turned slightly and eyes opened wide. Across from him, Tuck glared through the tingling sensation of his palm, speaking lowly yet in a voice laced with tension and newfound distaste he did not think possible in regards to the young prodigy. Indeed, from the moment they met he held hopes of living in a dream-like state of admiration for the promising detective – enough to hold aspirations that he may be able to actually help him. Yet now all he felt was utter disappointment and a haunting agony assault his heart.
"You think it wise to throw away your life over something as foolish as pride? Are you seriously so dense as to believe your life holds that little meaning?" Tuck's voice wavered a little, as he shook his head and sighed to regain some control, "You have so far to go."
Numb shock filled the detective's mind from the immortal's candid words. While he knew they weren't new or unexpected given the amount of times he heard variants of the same speech, something about this time in particular struck a nerve. Perhaps it was because Tuck and his companions were quasi-members of the ADA, or maybe the drugs in his system, but the accusation hit hard. Nevertheless, he was quick to shove down the astonishment and pain in favor of an icy, demeaning glare.
"Who are you to say that I should value my life more?" he seethed as Tuck's frown deepened, "An isolationist who parades around with a façade preaching to me about living a long, meaningful life? Don't flatter yourself."
Angrily, he turned and began storming back to the hotel, hissing under his breath, "Please, you're just an aberration trying to help his own self-esteem."
Without needing to look back, he felt Tuck's flinch and his hurt expression pierce the air but ignored it in favor of reaching the room. The blasted man. Who did he think he was? Sure immortality was not something everyone could boast of, but that did not make him any better than the rest of humanity – especially him. And yet he couldn't push away the pestering reality that even then his ability fell short in fully analyzing the dark-skinned man.
Ranpo grit his teeth, nails digging into his palms.
It vexed him to no end – more so than this silly case. Why couldn't he grasp fully who the immortal was? It was like trying to grab something only for it to turn into vapor the moment his fingers wrapped around it. Was it because he lived so long that everything became blurry? Ranpo glowered. Either way, ever since Tuck step foot into the Agency, his confidence in his skills diminished. Not by a lot, but enough to irk him with its constant presence.
Because if he couldn't solve someone as simple as Tuck, then what right did he hold to be the person everyone believed him to be?
Ranpo let out a frustrated shout as he finally entered the hotel room, slamming the door with more strength than he intended while proceeding to strike the window's ledge with his fists. He glared at the darkening city below. Despite his attempts to direct his thoughts back to figuring out the case and the killer's tactics, he couldn't shake the irksome words that still lingered in his mind alongside a faint emotion he detested to so much as acknowledge.
The young prodigy scowled, his stomach turning uncannily as if he ate too many sweets. Why? Why did a stranger – someone he barely knew – bring about this much sentiment? His word meant nothing. He was in control of his own actions. He knew what he was doing, so who was that man to chide him and judge his choices? Ranpo bared his teeth at the fresh memory accompanying the dull stinging radiating from his cheek.
He'd show the immortal which of them was the superior one, that much he was certain.
Just as the thought crossed his mind, warning bells blared as Ranpo noticed for the first time how his nerves recognized something that began as a barely noticeable altercation yet grew to the point where it was impossible not to acknowledge. Unease flooded his veins as he felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise – eyes widening at the key difference since he step foot in this room.
When had the lights turned off?
Before he could make a move, a hand roughly pressed an old rag over his mouth and nose, pulling him back with enough force he stumbled. Instinctively, Ranpo held his breath and attempted to pry away the hand, digging his nails into the perpetrator's arm. Nevertheless, despite his efforts, the person retained a firm grip, leaving the young detective's struggles to ebb away with each passing second.
Ranpo's head pounded from lack of oxygen, and his eyes scrunched nearly shut – searching desperately for a way out yet coming up blank. He only had seconds now, his burning lungs testified to it. Yet in the midst of everything, of attempting to escape and identify his attacker, the moment of truth came when he finally gave in and an eerily familiar scent washed over seconds before the sickeningly sweet chloroform overwhelmed his senses.
A scent of a particular brand of cigarettes – the exact same brand clinging to the victims' clothes and articles held in storage.
Despite the danger, a wave of euphoria at finding the culprit ran through his veins. While not entirely expected, his plan to lure out the suspect proved worthwhile, only now a new dilemma faced him: how was he going to get Tuck to see his success? Ranpo frowned, feeling his consciousness ebb away. Where was the immortal? Surely he wasn't that upset about their argument. And yet…if he didn't show up, would he be able to make it out alive?
For not the first time, Ranpo was unable to fully ascertain the answer to the question as he felt his senses go numb – form going slack in his attacker's arms. As his vision began tunneling, he made out the blurred, unsteady form of the immortal far below walking into the complex. Instead of feeling a desire to call out for help or even so that he could see the fruits of his efforts and thus take back his earlier conjectures, Ranpo felt a scowl form on his face.
Why? Why was he falling short? Why was Tuck's presence making everything he once thought stable become unbalanced?
Most of all, why did he still feel this shame?
Ranpo's scowl faded, his vision finally dispersing into black. If he couldn't figure out the immortal, how could he call himself the world's greatest detective? How could he retain confidence in his skills?
How could he face everyone at the Agency when he no longer met their vision of a perfect detective who could solve anything and keep their heads high?
The detective didn't know.
And that scared him the more than any threat or demon he faced.
Extra: Hair Style
"Your hair is so pretty Ari-chan! What's your secret?" Naomi inquired from where she held a few strands of mahogany locks in her hands, savoring how they felt as soft as a spring breeze against her skin and glowed a pretty ruby red in the sunlight.
A light pink dusted Ari's cheeks as looked downwards self-consciously, a little taken aback by the unforeseen comment that cut through the mountains of paperwork in front of her – courtesy of her annoying tag along roommate and a hefty portion of boredom and a little desperation to clear any and every route leading out of the slowly confining office. A piece of her wondered if everyone in this country was so upfront. Odd considering she always thought the residents of Japan were more reserved. Perhaps the Agency was an exception? Figures given her luck as of late.
"T-Thanks," Ari stammered, giving a small smile back at Naomi and another female assistant of the group, Haruka she believed was her name, "And I don't know, shampoo?"
"Oh?" a mischievous grin lit the student's features as she continued slyly, "A natural beauty huh? How very lucky of you – you must get all the guys, huh?"
"Please…" the red head huffed in weak attempt of indignation, only causing Naomi's grin to widen as she muttered, "Yours if far prettier. I'd trade in a heartbeat," she gathered the strand from her hands, features gaining some notes of downcast as she finished, "All this seems to bring is unneeded attention…"
The two assistants blinked, surprised at the uncanny sober note in the woman's voice, Haruka speaking softly, "While I can't say that it isn't, uh, unique, I agree with Naomi-chan. Your hair is beautiful Aria-chan, and I think that it is something you should take pride in since it makes you you, you know?"
Ari blinked as Naomi added with more cheer, "Yeah! I love your hair and think I'd be getting the better end of the deal if we were to trade. Even then, I don't think I could honestly pull it off," the teen chagrinned, continuing without missing a beat as she gathered more of her hair in her hands, "But I will say that keeping it up in a ponytail all the time is holding you back. I mean, if you were to try something like this…"
The red-head felt the girl's fingers tug and weave through her hair, pulling it up and around until coming to a semi-messy bun that rested atop her head, the teen smiling proudly at her work, "See? It's much better – especially in this heat, right?"
"Eh?" Haruka frowned, nudging the younger girl over and shifting the bun and twirling a few strands so that it got a braided edge, "I think this suits Aria-chan more so, right?"
Their giggles and lighthearted argument faded in Ari's ears as she kept her eyes pinned on her folded hands, unable to form any words as she felt them continue to play with her hair unabashedly. Everything was so random – even her meeting with Haruka, whom she only saw in passing before then. Everyone here was odd. And yet…
It was…nice.
After what felt like eternity, to simply perform normal girlish things like playing with each other's hair and exchanging in lighthearted talk felt freeing. Not that she hated roaming the world with Tuck and Jay, but more that this was something she hadn't realized she missed. Chatting idly with another person – with another female. It was very refreshing; enough to allow the young woman to relax and close her eyes at the blissful sensation of fingers combing her hair and catching slightly as if coming across a bandage or something…
Wait. Bandage?
Ari opened her eyes, glancing back to find to her gross annoyance and partial shock not Naomi, Haruka, or any of the other secretaries, but Dazai sitting cross-legged with a stupid grin on his face as he paused in braiding her hair to comment casually, "You're absolutely right Naomi-chan. Aria-chan's hair is simply wonderful! Almost like silk from China."
Shock held the red-head whose brow twitched as the man weaved strands of her hair together rhythmically, easily capturing the awe of the secretaries – most of which likely didn't think he held the skill. How in the world did he sneak up on her? Was this some ploy to mess with her? And why did she like how the sun made her hair glow a ruby red in his hands?
Ari scowled at the man, pushing the thought out of her mind and deftly pulled away, spurring a disappointed whine as she growled, "Hands off perv. Don't you have better things to do, like I don't know, catch up on all those reports?"
"Boo, you're no fun Aria-chan. All business and no play will leave you with wrinkles, you know?" Dazai said like a concerned friend.
"Please, just being with you gives me grey hairs," Ari muttered, standing and shooting a sullen glare his way, "Which isn't helped by you tying knots into my hair, ass."
Ignoring his pout despite the clownish glint in his eyes, she huffed and glared out the window. She'd have to take care not to let her guard down – especially in this Agency. A small pain for rejecting the kind people of the group ran through her veins, but she shook it away. She of all people knew that smiling faces and kind words easily concealed rancid motives.
And as much as she wanted to deny the possibility in terms of the Agency, she could not take that chance.
She'd already lost everything once; she couldn't go through that again no matter how much she wanted to join them in that warm light.
"Are you alright, Aria-chan?" Haruka gently asked, pulling her attention to the secretary's worried gaze.
"Yeah," Ari smiled, faintly reassuring the woman before Naomi jumped in beside her.
"You know, I think that style really suits you Aria-chan," Naomi complimented, "It's elegant yet not too formal."
"I agree, your hair looks really beautiful like this," one of the secretaries added with a slight blush.
Ari raised a brow as if to say "You think so?" and turned toward her reflection in the window. She looked…different. Typically she just tied her hair up in a messy ponytail, but seeing it in a loose braid draped across her shoulder made her look more like a young woman with a perfect life instead of the wandering nomad she was. A brief moment of acceptance of it passed through before she shook it away.
"It's too fancy for my taste," she stated passingly.
A small smile lit Haruka's face, one soon transforming into a shocked expression as Naomi pulled her to the closest chair, proclaiming it was her turn. The secretary's fumbling words and reddening cheeks were soon concealed by the other secretaries moving to play with the brunette's style, beginning the lighthearted activity once more.
Ari watched from afar, observing them with soft humor like a parent watching their child indulge in an activity they enjoyed long ago. The light surrounding them was a warm golden one that belonged to an entirely different dimension – one that beckoned her to join. However, the soft light drifting over her form from the window kept her in place watching them laugh and enjoy the moment.
And that was enough for her as all eyes remained on the scene, as she lazily brushed the braid on her shoulder with care so that it remained intact.
Alive once more to give a pretty meh chapter but hey there's an extra bit. Oh and I may switch to A03 in the future for my other stories but probably will keep updating this one at the very least until it is complete (aka eons from now)