The rivalry between you and Ranpo Edogawa was a carefully maintained ecosystem of sharp wits and even sharper tongues. It was "simple" in the way a hurricane is just a bit of wind—a constant, buzzing friction fueled by mutual irritation and a stubborn refusal to let the other have the last word. He found you exasperating; you found him impossibly arrogant. It was a perfect, albeit annoying, balance.

On this particular afternoon, the two of you were locked in a heated debate over something entirely inconsequential. The air crackled with the usual back-and-forth until the shrill ring of his phone cut through your latest retort.

Ranpo sighed, fished the device from his pocket, and answered with a clipped greeting. The conversation lasted only a few seconds before he hung up, his expression shifting from competitive glee to genuine disappointment.

"Duty calls," he muttered, the words lacking his usual playful bravado.

You felt a sharp prickle of annoyance. Of course. The world-famous Great Detective had a job to do at the Armed Detective Agency, and apparently, that took precedence over losing an argument to you. You crossed your arms and let out an audible huff, frustrated that he was getting the "escape card" just as you were gaining the upper hand.

"How convenient for you," you grumbled, expecting him to offer one last smug remark before darting off toward the crime scene.

Instead, as he moved to pass you, Ranpo’s pace faltered. He didn’t walk by. Instead, he reached out, his fingers catching your chin in a grip that was shockingly firm yet inexplicably gentle. Before you could process the touch, he leaned in, bridging the gap between you and pressing his lips to yours in a swift, decisive kiss.

The world seemed to tilt on its axis. Your eyes flew wide, your heart hammering a frantic rhythm against your ribs as your brain stalled in a complete system failure.

Just as quickly as he had started it, he pulled away. He didn't offer an explanation, a blush, or even a parting smirk. He simply turned on his heel and continued walking, leaving you rooted to the spot in a deafening, stunned silence—the undisputed loser of an argument you no longer even remembered.