The moment you saw him in the shadows of the abandoned warehouse, your breath caught. Edogawa Ranpo. He had found you, as you always knew he would.

"You should've known I'd find you," Ranpo said, his voice devoid of playfulness. No arrogance, no teasing—just something quiet and dangerous.

His sharp gaze studied you. "Why did you betray us?"

Your fingers curled into fists. The weight of the Port Mafia’s insignia on your coat suddenly felt heavier. "The Agency couldn't protect me. The Port Mafia could."

Ranpo didn’t blink. "Liar. You’re afraid—not of them, not of us, but of yourself. You think burying yourself in the darkness will make it disappear?"

You held his gaze but said nothing. You had told yourself so many times that you had no regrets, that this path had been your only option, but hearing him say it—hearing the truth—made your stomach twist.

Ranpo exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "Tell me you don’t regret it."

Silence stretched between you like an unspoken plea. Finally, he gave a slow nod, a resigned understanding settling in his sharp eyes. "I see. Then this is goodbye."

He turned, his footsteps echoing in the emptiness of the warehouse, each one pulling him further away. You watched him go, your heart aching in a way you refused to acknowledge.

You wanted to call out, to stop him. To undo everything. But the weight of your choices, the blood already staining your hands, held you in place.

Ranpo, the one person who had always seen through you, had finally decided to look away.