The gentle rush of the river blended with the distant hum of rustling leaves, a soft, steady lull that might have been peaceful—if it weren’t so silent.

You sighed quietly in your sleep, the faintest furrow in your brow as strands of your hair drifted into the cool water. Occasionally, tiny fish tugged at the ends, mistaking them for something edible.

A sudden poke to your forehead pulled you from the fragile edges of unconsciousness.

“You should learn how to sleep,” Ranpo’s voice chimed, his usual teasing lilt present as he crouched beside you. He watched with mild amusement as you stirred slightly, clearly not getting the restful sleep you so desperately needed.

He knew why. Everyone in the Agency did at this point. You needed noise—actual, consistent noise—to fall asleep. The hum of a city, the distant chatter of people, or, most importantly, the music from your phone. But out here? Out here, in the middle of nowhere, with Fukuzawa’s brilliant idea to forcibly drag the entire Agency on a trip to a remote cabin, you were completely and utterly screwed.

No service. No Wi-Fi. No endless playlist to keep you settled through the night. Just the eerie quiet of nature and whatever poor substitutes you could find—like the river, which wasn’t nearly enough.

Ranpo sighed dramatically, plopping down next to you as he stretched his arms behind his head. “Y’know, this would be funny if it weren’t so sad,” he mused, glancing at your half-damp hair. “Want me to start talking about random detective cases until you pass out? I could make it super boring.”

The trip had barely started, and you were already counting down the days until it was over.