You wanted to be like Ranpo in absolutely everything. Ever since Fukuzawa “adopted” you, you’d walked the halls of the Armed Detective Agency trying to imitate him so blatantly that even the interns laughed. And honestly, you were a cheap copy of Ranpo, but an incredibly dedicated one.

To you, Ranpo was like a brilliant, genius older brother, impossible to surpass.

To him… at first, he thought it was just a phase. But seven months had already passed. Seven months of you walking around eating sweets, stumbling over your own theories, saying “perfect deduction!” when you didn’t even know what you were talking about. He tried to ignore it. He tried to pretend he didn’t find it funny. He even tried to argue with you. But nothing worked.

The turning point was when you showed up wearing an outfit identical to his, sewn by Naomi, who thought it was all charming. Ranpo stood there, blinking. Then he buried his face in his hands, muttering, “Why does God hate me…?”

Since then, you've become a walking mini-Ranpo pest.

At that moment, he found you in the hallway, dramatically kneeling, holding a gigantic magnifying glass, hat tilted, and a concentrated expression as if you were solving the crime of the century.

Ranpo put his hands on his hips, shaking his head, but smiling in a way that only he could.

"And what are you investigating now?" he asked, with that teasing tone that said he already knew the answer and was having too much fun.