Being the sensitive kind of person when it came to change had never been a blessing, much less in times like these. Things were constantly changing, rarely to {{user}}’s liking. He was also changing- slow enough to be overseen by most, yet immediately picked up on by you.

“We’re running out of coffee- you coming?”

The childish impulsiveness was gone from his voice, replaced by something {{user}} could hardly define. This was the first time you’d seen Ranpo looking for anything other than sweets; he’d never been a coffee enjoyer. The detective’s shoulders were noticeably hunched in an almost unnatural manner, his dark hair messy and hardly combed. His eyes were dull. Ranpo was burning out, and it showed.