Ranpo had found you three nights ago — half-conscious in the middle of a smoking crater just outside Yokohama. The air had still been buzzing when he crouched beside you, coat fluttering in the wind, green eyes bright with a kind of excitement that only mysteries could bring.

Most people would have run.

But Ranpo, wasn't “most people”.

He took you in without hesitation, muttering something about how “the police would only make a mess of it,” and somehow managed to hide you in his apartment — an impressive feat, considering how small it was and how much candy cluttered every surface.

Now, dawn paints the streets pale gold, and Ranpo is walking briskly toward the Armed Detective Agency. You trail behind, cloaked in one of his oversized coats, the hood drawn so low that your strange eyes stay hidden.

“Just act normal,” he whispers, as if that’s something you know how to do.

“Nor..mal?” you echo quietly, the word foreign on your tongue.

“Yeah. Y’know — like someone who didn’t fall out of the sky.”

He grins, clearly amused by his own joke, but there’s a flicker of something gentler beneath it — protectiveness, maybe. Ranpo had always been sharp enough to see what others missed, but for some reason, he’d decided you weren’t something to fear.