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One month earlier:
Hirabayashi and Ikehara paused in the hallway, checking themselves one last time to make sure their clothing hadn’t spontaneously turned inside out, and their hair hadn’t randomly turned into a bird’s nest, and that no random condiments had manifested on their faces.
“And you have the tablet,” Ikehara said, her anxious eyes laser-focused on the aforementioned device. “And it’s got all the proposed designs on it.”
Hirabayashi opened it one more time and verified that the tablet hadn’t mutated into a different one and that the files hadn’t been eaten by some gremlin. He paged through them quickly and confirmed they were all there as Ikehara craned her neck to watch.
“And the tablet’s at full charge,” Hirabayashi said. “And since the files are saved to the device and already open, even if the wifi goes down we’ll still be fine presenting.”
Ikehara nodded, face intent. “And you’ll present, and I’ll take notes.”
They looked themselves and each other over one last time, and upon confirming that they were still free of any embarrassing, unprofessional wardrobe or personal hygiene malfunctions, Hirabayashi drew a deep breath, stood ramrod-straight, and knocked on the door of the office.
A few moments later the door opened, and their prospective employer welcomed them inside, gesturing toward a medium-sized round table. They bowed their heads politely and followed him over, taking their seats. Hirabayashi set the tablet down on the table.
“I’m very excited to see what you’ve come up with,” said the Englishman who had introduced himself as Smith at their first meeting, folding his hands on the edge of the table. “I’m hoping for something truly unusual, something that would boggle the mind, and make the audience ask, ‘What am I seeing?!?’” His smile was calculating as he said, “I want them to doubt the evidence of their own eyes.”
The two special effects artists both nodded eagerly.
Hirabayashi cleared his throat as he unlocked the tablet, and began earnestly, “First of all, we’d like to thank you for this opportunity. Neither of us has ever been the lead designer or artist on a feature film before, and we are truly excited to be able to work on such a creative project. So, thank you again.” He and Ikehara bowed their heads again, and Smith nodded benevolently.
Hirabayashi turned the tablet around so that it was facing Smith and opened the first design, showing front, side, and rear views.
“You indicated that you were looking for several designs, the more alien, the better. Something completely not of this Earth,” he began his carefully rehearsed presentation. “So for this first one-”
Smith cut him off with a small frown. “I can already tell you that this one doesn’t meet my requirements,” he said. “While the proportions and coloring are very non-standard, it’s still recognizable as a creature of some sort, and is even bipedal and possessed of bilateral symmetry.”
Hirabayashi and Ikehara blanched, but rallied. As Ikehara made a note, Hirabayashi nodded and said, “Understood. We’ll skip the next one as well, then.” He scrolled forward to the third image, and the special effects artists both breathed a sigh of relief as Smith’s attention riveted on the screen and he leaned forward involuntarily.
“Well,” he said, his voice hushed. “Now that’s what I’m talking about.”
Present day:
Kunikida entered President Fukuzawa’s office to find Dazai already standing there with his hands in his pockets, the picture of relaxed ease. The blond detective eyed his partner as he stepped forward and took his place beside him, standing at attention.
The president sat, poised, with his hands in his sleeves. “Kunikida, thank you for joining us. I am sure that you have seen in recent news that there have been a number of leaks recently from government meetings. Whether the information is being sold to interested parties, or used directly, is uncertain. However, the result is the same. One minister has been brought down by the information that came to light. Several shipments of top-secret equipment have been hijacked. Electronic files have been downloaded using stolen security credentials. A laboratory was accessed, and some undisclosed prototypes stolen.”
Kunikida looked alert. “Yes, I’ve seen the reports. There’s a great deal of speculation that there’s widespread corruption in the government, due to the fact that there’s no one person who’s been present at all the meetings, and that they’ve occurred in facilities all over the country.”
Fukuzawa frowned. “That was, in fact, a source of significant concern within the administration. However, new information has come to light, and it now seems likely that the leaks are the work of an ability user.” He looked up, eagle-eyed. “Dazai.”
Dazai nodded in understanding and spoke up. “I had a call just now from Takechi, the information broker,” he said. “This one is definitely an Agency case.” Looking at Kunikida, he said, “You recall how comprehensive Takechi’s information security protocols were, of course.”
Kunikida nodded. The mission to bug one of the information broker’s meetings had been one of the most elaborate schemes the Agency had ever participated in, and was necessitated by some truly rigorous, even fanatical, security procedures. And that was before Dazai had contracted with Takechi for consulting services to close the gaps.
“Well, Takechi informed me that he’s had to cancel no less than three meetings within the last week. The infrared kept picking up additional heat signatures, but nobody could see anyone generating them, and his security played it safe and rescheduled the meetings. The Agency has taken the case, which reassured Takechi that it wasn’t Junichirou. But the heat signatures with no visible source definitely indicates some sort of concealment ability is in play.”
As Dazai concluded his briefing, Fukuzawa spoke up once again. “I have notified several of my government contacts about this new information - keeping Takechi’s name out of it, of course - and they have contracted our services. The Armed Detective Agency needs to apprehend the perpetrators and locate everything that was stolen, whether information or equipment.”
“Yes, President,” Kunikida said.
Fukuzawa continued, “Please contact Ango Sakaguchi. My contacts have assured me that he will be instructed to share all the progress that has been made in the investigations to date.” He raised his eyes to meet Dazai’s warily, and Kunikida glanced sideways at his partner as well.
“Of course, President,” Dazai said with a charming smile and a worrisome gleam in his eyes.
“Utilize any resources necessary,” Fukuzawa said to both of them. “This case takes priority over all our other work. Feel free to pull other detectives in as required. You are dismissed.”
Kunikida bowed and Dazai nodded, and they left the room together.
The partners strode briskly back to the bullpen in silence. As Dazai swung his chair around and slid into it, turning to face his computer, Kunikida planted his feet squarely next to his desk and looked down at him. Pushing his glasses up his nose with one finger, he said hesitantly, “I can contact Ango and get the debrief, if you prefer not to have to deal with him.”
Dazai paused, his hand on his mouse, and looked up at Kunikida. “I appreciate the offer,” he said, “but you needn’t worry. I can endure his presence long enough to participate in the briefing, as long as he’s not actively trying to get anyone else I care about killed during it.” He gave a wry smile.
“I have a feeling that you two have a history,” Kunikida said.
“You should trust your feelings,” Dazai said, and turned his attention to his computer. Without looking back up, he said, “I’ll let you set up the meeting. ASAP, of course. I’ll attend, and I’ll behave to a reasonable extent. I, of course, will be the judge of what is reasonable in this case.”
“If you’re sure, then,” Kunikida said. “Just please keep in mind, I need you at full efficiency, so if his presence is too much of a problem, I can remove him again. I can always just take a transcript, and contact him by phone later if you have any questions after reading it.”
Dazai stopped clicking and scrolling and looked up. Gratitude commingled with a glint of humor in his eyes. “Thank you,” he said gently. “But honestly, it’ll be fine. I’m perfectly capable of using someone loathsome without killing or injuring them. I may verbally flay him if I deem it appropriate or necessary, but that’s all.”
“All right, then,” Kunikida said, relaxing a bit. “I’ll go make the call.”
“Thanks,” Dazai said, returning his attention to his computer, his eyes scanning publicly available news reports at an unnatural speed.
Across town, a few hours later:
Mori read the latest update from his intelligence section pertaining to the Port Mafia’s recent widespread losses. It was short and to the point. He laid the paper down on his desk, produced a scalpel from somewhere upon his person, and began toying with it.
The Agency would certainly be putting their best and brightest on the case. Undoubtedly that genius man-child of theirs would be involved, but Fukuzawa was well aware of his people’s skills, and he would surely assign Dazai to the case as well.
He examined his reflection in the scalpel’s edge, a narrow slice of his face at a time. He twisted and turned it as he tallied the most important events of the last year or so.
Dazai returning to Chuuya’s orbit, and succumbing to his long-denied feelings.
The joint mission to frighten the Iron Claw out of Yokohama, where Dazai had agreed to present Soukoku once again as a united front, even though he surely knew that Shiba would spread the word that Dazai was once again working with the Port Mafia.
No less than two incidents where Chuuya used Corruption with Dazai there to protect him.
Dazai attending the Port Mafia’s birthday celebration for Chuuya, and attending the joint Halloween party.
Dazai making the request to borrow Chuuya for that ridiculous pop idol infiltration - not that Mori’s negative feelings about that had anything to do with Elise’s enthusiasm for Chuuya’s performances, not at all - in the full knowledge that Mori would expect him to return temporarily to act as the Port Mafia’s negotiator.
And now, even, Chuuya’s efforts with training the Agency’s weretiger, and with guiding Akutagawa to a more cooperative relationship with the weretiger, had resulted in the naive youth actually taking point in a Port Mafia protection action, even if he hadn’t realized that was what he was doing until afterward.
One of the infirmary’s nurses had even mentioned last year that Chuuya had brought Dazai in to reconcile with Akutagawa after that disastrous mission just before the wedding, and Akutagawa had become less erratic since then, with a significant reduction - although, alas, not a complete elimination - to collateral damage and ‘friendly fire’.
Mori was very pleased indeed with Chuuya.
He stopped turning the scalpel, and it settled with just a corner of his cruel smile in place.
Let’s keep the trend running, shall we?
Back at the Armed Detective Agency:
Haruno entered the president’s office and bowed her head. “Dr. Mori would like to speak with you on the phone, sir,” she said.
Fukuzawa’s jaw tightened and his eyes narrowed. “Put him through.”
A few moments later, Fukuzawa picked up the extension. “Good afternoon. To what do I owe this dubious honor?”
“Rude,” Mori said, in tones of mild surprise.
Fukuzawa remained silent, waiting.
In his office, Mori smiled and conceded. In unctuous tones, he said, “I understand that you have an interesting case for the government, regarding an ability user who has been spying on meetings and using the gathered information to steal secrets, security clearances, and equipment.”
Fukuzawa said, with a marked lack of interest, “And if I have?”
“Well,” Mori said, “If you have, then I would like to offer the Port Mafia’s cooperation in this matter, as we have been likewise targeted. We intend to reclaim what is ours, so surely it would be preferable if our organizations were to work together, so that you can reclaim the government’s assets and we can reclaim our own, rather than us having to use force to take them back from either you or the government after the fact.”
The cost/benefit analysis took only a moment. “Very well,” said Fukuzawa. “You may send a representative over. Have them ask for Kunikida.”
“Wonderful,” Mori said, and they hung up simultaneously.
Fukuzawa pressed his intercom button. “Haruno, please bring me Kunikida.”
Haruno’s voice came back over the intercom. “He and Dazai are still interviewing the Special Operations Division liaison, sir. Do you wish me to interrupt?”
Fukuzawa sighed. “No,” he said. “But please bring them to me as soon as they’re done. And we are expecting a representative from the Port Mafia,” he said with distaste. “If they arrive before Kunikida and Dazai are done with the liaison, ask them to wait.”
“Yes, sir,” Haruno replied.
Half an hour later, Ango had been summarily debriefed and then dismissed with a marked lack of courtesy. Kunikida was intelligent and observant, and realized that if Dazai’s problematic history with the man had been entirely related to Ango pushing Nakahara to use Corruption, Dazai would have said, ‘as long as he’s not trying to get Chuuya killed’, not ‘as long as he’s not trying to get someone else I care about killed’. The implications were unpleasant, and did not endear the official to Kunikida.
Haruno was waiting when they exited the conference room, and directed them to the president’s office.
Fukuzawa was succinct. “The Port Mafia has been targeted by the ability user as well in recent weeks. They wish to collaborate on the investigation. I have agreed to make this a joint mission so that they can regain their lost assets peacefully, rather than risk a violent raid later upon whatever government facility we return the nation’s lost assets to. They will be allowed only to reclaim their own stolen goods and information, and in return they will not make any attempt on the government’s equipment, nor be allowed to inflict any retaliation or punishment on the perpetrators.”
“Understood,” Kunikida said, and he bowed as he and Dazai left the office.
As they walked past the secretaries’ area, he asked Dazai, “Who will they send?”
Dazai replied decisively, “Hirotsu. He’s the obvious choice.” Understanding Kunikida’s motivation for asking, he added, “He’s not a wild card, he’ll abide by the agreement.”
“Good,” Kunikida said, trusting Dazai’s judgement. “Let me go give Haruno a heads-up.” They separated.
After a brief word with the president’s secretary, Kunikida returned to the bullpen and headed over to Dazai’s desk, leaning down with one hand on the desk and one on the back of Dazai’s chair, and studied the map that Dazai was currently marking up, with frequent references to the files Ango had brought.
Dazai capped the marker and then started clicking and typing vigorously on his laptop.
“So these are the areas where the physical shipments were last seen?” Kunikida asked thoughtfully.
“Yes, and then they all disappeared,” Dazai said, intrigued. “I figure the physical shipments should be the easiest to nail down, and once we find one of them, we can use that as a starting place to pry the entire operation loose.” As he spoke, he continued typing and clicking, and security camera feeds began popping up on his laptop screen.
Kunikida placed a finger on one circle and said, “How about I start here? I can research the building records for this area, see if there were any recent changes of ownership, or if there are any buildings with long-term ownership or tenancy by shady characters.”
“That sounds good-” Dazai began, and then was interrupted as Ranpo reentered the bullpen for the first time since the morning.
“What in the world is that?” Ranpo asked loudly. “And why are you letting it listen in on your investigation?”
The two detectives, startled, looked around alertly. They didn’t see anything of note; the bullpen looked as usual, with the exception of Ranpo’s affronted look and a rather peculiar wide-eyed look from Atsushi, who had accompanied Ranpo as his handler and guide during the senior detective’s investigation for the day.
Seeing nothing, Kunikida asked, “What are you talking about, Ranpo?” Dazai noticed Ranpo’s eyes slowly moving toward the other exit from the bullpen.
“What do you mean, what am I talking about?” Ranpo asked in tones of outrage. He pointed in the direction his eyes had been moving.
Kunikida and Dazai looked again, and saw nothing. Dazai observed that Atsushi’s expression was now uncertain and sheepish, but he otherwise seemed to be reacting the same way that they were.
Seeing the two detectives still not reacting, Ranpo said, frustrated, jabbing his finger in the direction of the door once more, “That! The three meter tall purple fractal thing with the hole through the middle and the fronds and jelly and stuff! The one you’re letting get away!” He sagged. “Now it’s gone,” he complained. “And you still haven’t told me what it was or why it was there or why you were ignoring it!”
In a huff, he stamped over to his desk and pulled out his safe and began selecting snacks.
Kunikida and Dazai looked at one another.
“Someone slipped him a hallucinogenic?” posited Kunikida.
Dazai eyed Ranpo, and then turned to Atsushi.
“Atsushi,” he sang, “did you see anything when you came in?”
The young man looked trapped, and his eyes darted nervously back and forth between Kunikida and Dazai. “I - don’t - maybe?” he spluttered. “I - I felt like I saw something out of the corner of my eye, but whenever I turned to see what it was, there was nothing there.”
“Three meter purple thing,” called Ranpo from his desk through a mouthful of crisps.
Atsushi shrugged sheepishly.
“What three meter purple thing?” came a lazy drawl from the door, and Dazai turned in surprise.
His eyes widened in delight and his chest filled with warmth, but only partly for the usual reasons.
“I thought you said they’d send Hirotsu,” Kunikida said in a low voice. “Hello, Nakahara, are you here for the joint mission?” he asked in a more carrying voice.
“I was mistaken,” Dazai said, his mouth curling into a pleased smile. It should have been Hirotsu, he thought. If Mori’s sent Chuuya for this one, it means that he’s getting greedy. He’s trying to manipulate me into thinking working with the Port Mafia is appealing because I’d be working with Chuuya again. Excellent! Tricking him into overstepping and breaking our truce was at the top of my list for ways to get Chuuya out from under his thumb, but I thought I’d have to manipulate him into it. If he’s already starting of his own accord, then I can get what I want and keep my hands clean, so that Chuuya doesn’t go all noble and decide I broke the truce in spirit before Mori broke it in fact. Let’s go with the flow.
By this time, the pleasantries were complete, and Dazai stretched his neck up to kiss Chuuya hello, much to the embarrassment of half the room.
Naomi, who had been hovering near Junichirou’s desk, whispered audibly, “Why don’t you greet me like that?” and Junichirou blushed.
“Naomi!” he hissed.
Upon hearing Naomi’s words, Kunikida bristled with fear and fury and glared at Dazai and Chuuya. “I swear to god, if you-”
Dazai had already paled at Naomi’s voice. “We’re on the same page,” he said with utter conviction. “We’ll make sure she’s not present in the future.”
Chuuya looked perplexed for a moment as he glanced over at the siblings, and then remembered the siblings’ - peculiar - relationship. “Oh, shit, sorry,” he said, looking away in embarrassment.
Kunikida eased up a little, but still murmured, “You could just not engage in PDA at all, you know.”
Dazai looked up at his husband and smiled. “No, as a matter of fact, I can’t.”
Chuuya grinned back down at him. “Yeah, suck it up, Kunikida.”
Kunikida heaved a long-suffering sigh and pushed his glasses up.
“So, back to the question, what three meter purple thing?” inquired Chuuya.
“Ranpo walked in a few minutes ago and said there was a three meter tall purple thing-” Kunikida began.
“With fractals and fronds and jelly,” Dazai interjected.
“-spying on us,” Kunikida concluded. “But we didn’t see anything.”
“Well, Atsushi said he thought he saw something out of the corner of his eye, but when he looked, nothing was there,” Dazai amended.
Chuuya’s eyes were wide. “So what the fuck are you sitting there for?” he asked in disbelief. “You had the fucking spy with the concealment ability right here in your fucking office, and you just let it go? Are you fucking kidding me?”
Kunikida and Dazai froze in shock, then stared at one another, equally wide-eyed. “Shit,” they said in unison.
Five minutes later, in the small conference room, the recriminations and self-recriminations were reaching a crescendo.
“I feel so foolish,” Kunikida lamented for the fourth time, head in his hands.
“You should,” Ranpo said cheerfully.
“Seriously,” Chuuya said. “I don’t even work with you guys, and even I’ve heard enough to know that he may suck at people and can’t tie his own shoes, but that he never, ever gets a fact wrong. Why the fuck didn’t you listen to him?”
“We did,” Dazai said, frustrated at himself. “But - setting aside purple, fractal, fronds and jelly - which is a lot to set aside-” he digressed forcefully, “three meters tall? The ceilings in here are barely that high. And if we couldn’t see anything, I mean, who would believe it?”
He swiped a hand across his face as Ranpo chirped, self-satisfied, “Me, of course.”
“All right,” Dazai sighed, sitting up and leaning back in his chair. “We’ve established that Kunikida and I screwed up. Let’s move on. We need to figure out why the ability didn’t work on Ranpo.”
“Do we?” asked Chuuya skeptically. “Or do we just need to figure out where stuff is, and take Ranpo with us everywhere?”
“I’m reluctant to risk Ranpo in a situation that might result in combat,” Kunikida said.
“The fuck,” Chuuya said blankly. “You think anything’s going to get through me?” He sounded honestly confused.
“We don’t want to stretch you too thin, when we don’t know what we’re going to be up against. Also, if we happen to find Port Mafia assets, you’re going to need to coordinate with your retrieval team, and will be distracted from acting as personal protection.” Dazai glanced at Kunikida. “If we take Atsushi along, he can be security for Ranpo. Would that assuage your concerns?”
Kunikida nodded. “As long as we can trust him to follow orders and prioritize Ranpo’s safety over helping us.”
Ranpo sat placidly, moving from crisps to candy. “So, where are we going?”
Kunikida and Dazai exchanged glances once more, and then Dazai shrugged. He spread out the map once more and tapped the circle closest to the ADA offices. “We’ll start here.”
Twenty minutes later, the group was approaching the last place one of the hijacked military shipments had been seen. Atsushi was at the back of the group next to Ranpo. The young weretiger had been dismayed to be returned to Ranpo escort duty, but Kunikida and Dazai had informed him that he was to be Ranpo’s personal bodyguard rather than his minder this time. Their seriousness as they repeatedly instructed him in the importance of protecting Ranpo at all costs, even if that meant picking him up and carrying him back to the ADA while the rest of the group held the line against any attackers, had made an impression on him, and he was on high alert.
“All right,” said Kunikida, looking around. “Where should we start?”
As Dazai eyed their surroundings speculatively, Ranpo snorted. “How about the giant pair of boobs?”
Atsushi, Kunikida, and Chuuya all turned bright red.
“Ranpo!” Kunikida admonished.
“I don’t see any giant breasts around here, Ranpo,” Dazai said calmly, surveying the area with interest.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Chuuya said, grasping Ranpo’s elbow and towing him forward. He planted Ranpo’s palm on Dazai’s back and ordered the smaller genius, “Steer him.”
As Ranpo started pushing Dazai forward, Chuuya said, “Put your hands out, dumbass,” and Dazai obediently raised his palms face out in front of him as Ranpo guided him straight into a concrete wall. There was a flash of blue light as No Longer Human took effect, and suddenly there was no innocuous low concrete building any more, and everyone was looking at a small parking lot completely filled by an enormous bust the size of a small building, on a trailer.
“What.” Chuuya said, and fell silent.
“What?” Atsushi agreed, wide-eyed.
Dazai stroked the surface. “Plaster, I think.” He craned his neck upward, but couldn’t see past the massive mammary hypertrophy to see the face.
Kunikida cleared his throat. “I believe - um. I believe it is supposed to be a statue of Venus?” he essayed, having a better vantage from a distance.
Atsushi said, “But, but, but,” and Chuuya stepped in to assist.
“But why the fuck does it look like that?” he asked. “I mean, the stripes and polka dots are weird enough, but the, but the, but the-”
“Mustache,” Atsushi finally managed.
“A handlebar mustache, on Venus,” Kunikida said brokenly.
“Am I really seeing this?” Chuuya asked, his face scrunching.
Dazai, who was in the process of stepping back to get a better look, suddenly snapped his fingers. Turning to Ranpo, he met his eyes and they said in unison, “It’s Somebody Else’s Problem!”
Chuuya and Kunikida exchanged glances, and Chuuya rolled his eyes and said, “Get on with it.”
Atsushi watched, impressed, as Dazai obeyed Chuuya without utilizing any of his normal tricks.
“There’s an English ability user named Douglas Adams,” Dazai explained. “His ability is called ‘Somebody Else’s Problem’. In short, if something is visually bizarre or out of place enough, he can apply his ability, and your mind will refuse to see it and will substitute something normal.”
Kunikida, looking warily to the side, interjected, “We’re attracting a crowd. We need to save the analysis for later and deal with this site now.”
Chuuya nodded understanding.
“Shall we call in the troops?” Kunikida asked.
Dazai shook his head, and Chuuya said decisively, “No way. We have to check first to see if any of the Port Mafia’s stuff is in here. Once any of our stuff has been picked up, then you can call in the cops or the military or whoever.”
“Of course,” Kunikida said. “Atsushi. I’m sorry to put you in this position, but I’ll need you to stay here with Ranpo and prevent passersby from entering the site. You can call the Agency and request backup. Agency only, no police; you heard Nakahara. We’ll scout the - thing - and be back as quickly as we can.”
“All right,” Atsushi said, squaring his shoulders. “Be careful.” He turned his back on the truly bizarre - whatever - and took out his phone.
“Ranpo, please stay with Atsushi until relief gets here,” Kunikida admonished.
“As long as they make it fast,” Ranpo complained.
With a shake of his head, Kunikida turned and ran to join Dazai and Chuuya, who had already begun circling the - whatever - clockwise. He caught up with them just as they paused at a padlocked hatch in one corner.
Chuuya raised an eyebrow. “Doubt anyone’s inside, with that there,” he said.
“They must be counting on the camouflage not failing,” Dazai agreed. “A padlock is hardly security. You could cut through the wall of this with a reciprocating saw, I bet,” he said, patting the side of the giant bust.
“You want me to break it?” Chuuya asked.
Dazai shook his head, taking out his lockpicks.
“We need to be able to secure the contents after we’ve searched,” Kunikida replied, his back to them as he scanned their surroundings for security cameras or approaching threats.
The padlock was cheap, and Dazai had it open within seconds. There was a bit of shoulder-barging as Chuuya and Kunikida both attempted to take point, and hackles were raised.
“You already said there’s probably no one inside,” Kunikida said. “So let me go first, since it’s our case, and if you bring up the rear then you’ll be in position to handle anyone that comes, if there was an alarm.”
“Fine,” Chuuya said, his annoyance mildly allayed as he watched the absurdly tall blond - fuck, who needs to be six foot two, honestly, so fucking tired of craning his neck - fold himself into a pretzel as he attempted to squeeze through the tiny hatch.
His mood continued to improve upon discovering that the statue had extremely thick walls, and while he only had to lower his head slightly, the other two had to bend nearly double all the way to the small open area in the middle. Once there, his taller companions straightened with a sigh of relief. Chuuya scanned the stack of small crates, all of which had military markings. He perfunctorily pried the top off one crate to examine the contents, then tapped it back into place philosophically.
“Not ours,” he said. He turned, hands in his pockets, and started heading back the way they’d come. “You two can handle the cops or military or whatever. I’ll be waiting back at the Agency so we can plan next steps.” Struck by a thought, he turned. “Don’t do anything rash,” he advised. “If you do run into Adams, don’t touch him. He’s got stuff all over the country, and if you go nullifying his ability, it’ll all become visible. If the others are secured like this, with just a padlock and no guards, we’ll never see any of it again.”
“Excellent point, Nakahara,” Kunikida said.
“Hands off,” Dazai agreed.
“You want me to take Ranpo back, if your relief hasn’t arrived yet?” Chuuya asked.
Dazai looked at Kunikida and raised an eyebrow.
“If you feel up to it,” Kunikida said.
“Wow, is he that much of a handful?” Chuuya laughed. He waved in their general direction. “All right, don’t keep me waiting.” He walked off, hands in his pockets.
“I’ll step outside and make the phone call,” Kunikida said.
Dazai nodded. “I’ll search in here and see if I find anything useful while you’re calling them.”
Two hours later, Dazai and Kunikida returned to the Armed Detective Agency. As they made their way through the reception area, they noticed Naomi sitting at a desk facing the door, her phone propped up in front of her as she reorganized the contents of some files. She looked up at them, a serious expression on her face, and they nodded politely as they passed.
Dazai followed Kunikida into the bullpen, where most of the detectives were still present despite it nearing five p.m. Over by the window, Ranpo was playing on his phone, and Chuuya turned away from the window, pocketing his own phone.
“Just checking for the delivery guy,” he said. “I ordered us dinner.”
“Very generous of you,” Dazai said with a sly grin.
“Yes, thank you, Nakahara,” Kunikida said politely. “While we’re waiting for it, let’s go to the conference room to discuss next steps, shall we?” He looked around and raised his voice. “Atsushi, Ranpo, conference room, please.”
Atsushi had perked up at the mention of dinner and jumped to his feet promptly, but Ranpo kept his eyes fixed on his phone.
“Why do I have to be there?” he whined. “I already found the first stash for you, and I’ve told him everything,” he said, gesturing toward Chuuya with his elbow. “He can pass it on, he’s no more of an idiot than the rest of you. I want to go home now.”
Chuuya rolled his eyes. “I don’t think you’re gonna get anything more out of him tonight,” he said. “Let him go home, I’ve already peeled him for info.”
“Very well, then,” Kunikida said heavily. “Junichirou!” he called.
Across the room, Junichirou pocketed his phone as he rose from his desk. “Yes, Kunikida?” he asked as he approached.
“Would you please escort Ranpo home?” Kunikida said. “Since he’s the only one that seems to be immune to Adams’ ability, we need to make sure that he has extra protection until Adams is apprehended.”
“Sure, Kunikida,” Junichirou said. He walked around Ranpo’s desk and placed a hand on the senior detective’s shoulder and said, “Let’s go, Ranpo.”
“It’s about time,” Ranpo complained. He rose and left the bullpen with Junichirou close behind.
“All right, let’s go,” Kunikida said bracingly.
Chuuya and Atsushi stood and headed for the conference room behind him. Dazai said, “I’m just going to hit the men’s room first. I’ll be there in a minute.”
Chuuya waved vaguely in his direction and left the conference room door open for him.
Dazai walked to the men’s room, closed the door, waited briefly, and then flushed for authenticity. He washed his hands, smiling darkly into the mirror, and then assumed an innocent, intent expression as he walked out. As he stood and adjusted his cuffs, Ranpo’s disembodied voice spoke quietly in his ear.
“He’s inside.”
Dazai didn’t acknowledge, and strode over to the conference room. Pulling the door closed behind him, he said, “Let’s make sure we don’t get any uninvited guests. Chuuya, would you lock down the doors and windows?”
Chuuya, sprawled in his seat with one leg hanging over the arm of the chair, nodded, and he and the entrances and exits to the room all glowed red.
“Atsushi, you look tired,” Dazai said, his voice musical. “You’re not going to fall asleep on us, are you? Perhaps you should get up and walk around a bit, to keep awake.”
“Oh, yes, Dazai,” Atsushi said awkwardly. He rose from the table and closed his eyes, then began walking slowly around the room. As he did so, his movements were no longer those of a skittish young man, but of a prowling predator.
Kunikida began speaking, somehow managing to say nothing at all while still commanding attention with his resonant voice, and then the three still seated all leapt to their feet when Atsushi, eyes closed, pounced on a large plant that none of them had noticed had never been there before and wrestled it to the ground.
Chuuya released his lock on the windows and door, and Dazai moved swiftly to the door and opened it. “Clear,” he said sharply, and Junichirou dropped Light Snow, revealing himself and Ranpo.
Dazai led Ranpo into the conference room. “Where?” he asked. They didn’t know whether the person in the purple costume was Adams or not, but if it was, he needed to nullify the ability on the costume without touching the man himself, in case Somebody Else’s Problem was an active ability and not a one-and-done. If it was the former, touching Adams would shut off every instance currently active. If it was the latter, Dazai would need to touch each site to render it visible.
“Anywhere, really,” Ranpo said, studying their captive. There was really no skin showing anywhere. “Try this end,” he suggested, pointing toward where the feet should be.
Dazai knelt, hand out, and moved forward slowly until he made contact. Blue light flared, and the potted plant was replaced with… something.
“Wow,” said Chuuya, looking at, sure enough, a three meter tall purple thing with a big hole where much of the torso should be and, yep, fronds, and yeah, that sort of looked like jelly, but -
Atsushi, eyes still tightly shut, said, “Does wow mean I can open my eyes now?”
“Yeah, good job, Atsushi,” Chuuya said, and Atushi flushed with pleasure as Kunikida seconded the praise.
“Feel free to start questioning him,” Dazai said. “Ranpo and I will be right back.”
Junichirou remained behind to guard the door as Dazai and Ranpo hurried to Dazai’s desk.
“I don’t know if this will work,” Dazai said as he unlocked his laptop and pulled up the surveillance feeds from earlier, “but it’s worth a try.” He looked at his marked-up map with ‘last-seen’ areas, and selected a second that was also in Yokohama.
“This is the area where the biological samples were last seen. They would need to be refrigerated,” Dazai said as he clicked from one security camera feed to the next, pausing each time to await Ranpo’s go-ahead.
“Bwa ha ha,” Ranpo burst out as the third camera’s feed came up. Dazai peered closely at it.
“Not seeing anything,” he said, and glanced down at the map. “Wait, there should be an alley there,” he said, pointing to a blank wall on the camera feed.
“Yeah, and there is,” Ranpo agreed. “Complete with a two meter tall coiled spring with an argyle ostrich head and a pissing monkey.”
“Good,” Dazai said, relieved. “Then we can be certain that I didn’t unmask all the sites.” He folded his laptop closed without actually logging it off, and picked it up as he stood and led Ranpo back to the conference room.
“The sites are still masked,” he announced as they entered. “How’s the interrogation going?”
“Araya here is going to cooperate,” Kunikida said.
“Yes, well, you were very convincing,” came a voice from the middle of the purple thing, and Chuuya, who was radiating menace, smirked. “I’m going to have enough problems with the authorities, I don’t need the Port Mafia after me, too.”
Kunikida looked over at Dazai as he draped himself casually over a chair. “We’re in luck, Dazai. Araya says that he didn’t contact Adams to let him know that Ranpo could see him.”
The weird textured bit just under the first clump of fronds said, “I didn’t want him to think I fucked up, and risk him cutting me loose. And if I help you get the stuff back, the Port Mafia will call it even? And you’ll put in a word with the cops?”
“Yeah,” Chuuya said.
“If your cooperation bears fruit, I can promise you the Agency will speak on your behalf,” Kunikida said.
“Okay, you’re short on time, then, if I’m gonna be useful to you. I’ve got less than an hour before the makeup artists are expecting me back to disassemble all this shit. That’ll take another hour for me to get out of it, and then an hour after that I’m supposed to meet with Smith-”
Kunikida interjected, “That’s apparently what Adams is calling himself.”
“Whatever,” said the weird textured bit. “Anyway, eight p.m. I’m supposed to meet with him to pass on everything I learned today. And the other guy is right after me.”
“Other guy?” Dazai asked alertly.
“Yeah, there are two of us. You think I look weird, you’re not gonna believe him. But anyway, he usually gets there to have his stuff taken off right as I’m finishing getting mine off.”
“Locations,” Kunikida asked tersely, rising to his feet. “Both for the six p.m. and the eight p.m.”
“I’ll start gathering a team,” Dazai said equally tersely. “Junichirou, with me.” He stood with alacrity and led Junichirou out at a run.
The next several hours were a whirl. In order for Junichirou to impersonate Araya for the meeting with Adams, they needed to get him out of the costume so that Junichirou could get a good look at him. However, they didn’t want to scare off the second spy, so Araya needed to go in apparently alone. Junichirou accompanied him, invisible, and Chuuya watched the main door from a nearby rooftop as Kyouka watched the rear from an alley.
Once Araya was back to being a normal, leanly muscular Japanese man in his mid-thirties, he left the building and was returned to Kenji’s custody. Kenji escorted him back to the Agency, and Kyouka and Atsushi remained to apprehend the second spy and to take the makeup artists in for questioning. According to Araya, the makeup artists believed they were working on an indie movie involving hallucinogens, and were dupes. Dazai remained with the younger detectives in order to dismiss the ability on the second spy, and to insulate himself from Adams until they knew whether or not touching him would expose the other caches.
Junichirou disguised himself as Araya and concealed Kunikida and Chuuya from view, and went to meet with Adams at eight. As soon as he verified Adams’ identity, he dropped his ability and the three apprehended him without incident. Kunikida collected all the electronics and paperwork from the office, and they rendezvoused with the other team back at the Agency.
By ten o’clock, the makeup artists had been released under a strict confidentiality agreement and under temporary house arrest, and the two spies and Adams were confined in the Agency’s holding area. The makeup artists had been allowed to remove most of the costume from the second spy, as the volume of latex and paint involved constituted a health risk if left on for too long.
The rest of the crew settled in the conference room once more and dug into the now-cold food that had arrived several hours earlier.
Kunikida stuffed some takoyaki into his mouth and then opened Adams’ laptop. “Katai unlocked this for me remotely,” he said. “We got lucky. Even if Adams doesn’t cooperate, we should be able to locate everything with the information I’ve found here. He kept all the designs from the prop makers, so we know how many there are and what they look like.” He turned the laptop around to face the rest of the table, and they leaned forward to see a rendering of the bizarre Venus bust.
Dazai said, “Adams’ ability only works on things that are so bizarre that people are already inclined to doubt the evidence of their eyes. We think that’s why Ranpo was able to see through the ability. There is simply nothing, under any circumstances, that could make Ranpo doubt his own observations. More importantly, the special effects artists were able to see the spies when they came back to have their costumes removed. Adams wasn’t removing his ability from the costumes before they came back, because then people would have seen them between the time he removed his ability and the time they reentered the studio. So we have good reason to believe that if you are expecting whatever it is, the ability doesn’t work.”
He stretched one long arm across the table and flicked through the images of prop designs until he reached the one Ranpo had described earlier. “Giant coiled spring, ostrich, monkey,” he said. “Everyone please take a good look.”
They all scrutinized the image, and then Dazai opened his own laptop and pulled up the surveillance video. “Got it,” he said in satisfaction, seeing the sculpture in the alley now rather than the blank wall he’d formerly seen. He turned the laptop around and verified everyone else could see it as well.
“Cool,” Chuuya said between bites. “Do we have general locations?”
“Yes, he kept the delivery manifests,” Kunikida said. “However, in order to keep our agreement with the Port Mafia, we can’t simply send guards to each location and then have Dazai nullify Adams’ ability - and we still don’t know if it would even work that way, or whether he’ll need to nullify each instance separately - because we don’t know which caches hold which payloads.”
“Road trip, sweetheart,” Dazai said to Chuuya with a cheeky smile, nibbling on a roll. “It’s probably going to take the better part of a week to clear all the sites. You and I will take point. We’ll determine whether the site contains government assets, Port Mafia assets, or both. If both, Port Mafia gets to clear the site first, and we’ll have the government team on standby. I’ll nullify the ability on the site once we have the appropriate team present. Lather, rinse, repeat.”
“Okay,” Chuuya said, scarfing down the last of his dinner. “You plan out the itinerary and send it to me. I’ll book our hotels. We can take the AMG.” He grinned. “Road trip. Awesome.”
Kunikida cleared his throat. “Please,” he said carefully, “behave appropriately while you are representing the Agency?”
“Hey, don’t look at me,” Chuuya said. “I won’t be there when he calls in the legits.”
Kunikida looked at him beseechingly. “Could you perhaps extort him into behaving?”
Chuuya looked at him with pity. “If I’m not there to make him behave, then I’m not there to see if he did or not. He could just lie and tell me he wasn’t a dick.”
Kunikida sighed. “Very well, I will come along as liaison.”
Dazai and Chuuya looked at one another, startled, and then Chuuya shrugged. “Fine by me. Not a ton of leg room in the back seat, but you can always sit sideways. Keep your feet off the seats. You’re on your own for accommodations, though. We’re not sharing a room, and I know the Agency can’t afford the places we’ll be staying.”
Kunikida pinched the bridge of his nose. “Yes, yes.” He noticed Atushi was hesitantly raising his hand in the air. “Yes, Atsushi?”
Atsushi lowered his hand. “Is anyone going to eat the rest of that katsudon?” he asked sheepishly.
Kunikida dropped his face into his hands, and then scrubbed them vigorously. “Road trip,” he said, as Dazai laughed, and Chuuya picked up the container of katsudon and split the contents between himself and Atsushi.