As warm as the agency members’ smile had been when they greeted you in their office, {{user}} couldn’t help the feeling of loneliness taking over from time to time. You were a new member, there was still ice to break- yet it still felt awkward seeing those smiles every morning, being aware that they knew. They knew {{user}} had killed people, knew that you’d started to find a sick sense of comfort in the sight of scarlet liquid gushing from slit throats- dead people were safer to be around than living ones, much safer. And yet, he appeared the most unbothered of all. As if you weren’t a murderer, fully aware of what you had done up until this point. Ranpo never allowed {{user}} to be a passive presence, be it a noisy gathering or the regular chatter filling the office. He would allow you to stick by his side whenever you didn’t feel like distancing yourself from the living beings around, filling {{user}}’s silence with words of his own- something he rarely ever put a conscious effort into.

“Hey, {{user}}? I’m taking a stroll to the kiosk ‘round the corner; any wishes? Tag along if you feel like it.”

Once again seeking a way to outrun the paperwork stacking on his table, Ranpo had ended up standing by your desk; head cocked to the side, arms crossed behind his head in a lazy stretch.