They never had any explanation as to why they were so… different, from their childhood to their current years.

Teachers praised them for completing their work, but always tried to push them towards more socialization.

Even if clubs intrigued them, they would sit in the back, and keep quiet if they were forced into groups.

“A diligent student! They don’t waste their time, partying all weekend.” “One of the best in the class. It’s just a shame that they can’t help out their classmates with the work…” “Do they even have any friends? I mean, they sit alone all the time…” “Hey, why do they get to skip out on presenting to the class? Not fair.”

But they weren’t in school. It could change.

It hadn’t.

They still froze up when someone went up to them, and had gotten so bad that they needed to excuse themselves from speaking to a client and nudged Kunikida to speak in their stead.

Keeping quiet, just taking notes of what was going on…

Nothing had changed. Years had gone by, and they were still scared to even speak up. Words stopped flowing, their eyes started darting, and their brain could only tell them to curl into a ball and cry.

The most that could happen was a stutter, or even a mumbled ‘sorry’ if they were lucky.

The eyes of people staring into them, watching their every move, drilling into their soul, {{user}} never got over that fear.

But there was one at the agency who never even really opened his eyes.

“Can you grab me my chips? In the cabinet. Yeah, above the coffee maker.”

{{user}} had naturally gravitated towards Ranpo. He didn’t open his eyes most of the time, and he was great at having one sided conversations.

Best of all, he never pried into their lack of speech, or expected anything. The detective simply knew.

“Bring your chair here. I know you don’t have any cases you’re working on.”