Chapter Text
Ranpo Edogawa cracked open an emerald eye, looking around to orient himself. He found that he was in a room painted a greyish blue, rather plain with the exception of a green peace lily plant sitting atop a birch stool in the corner, with its moon-white single-petal flowers drawing him in. The petal of each flower curled slightly around a yellow bumpy pistil, looking similar to a cob of corn. He counted five flowers on the plant.
He directed his gaze downwards to find he was covered by a thin blue sheet and fluffy white blanket. How peculiar. He didn’t remember the dorms at the police training academy looking like this. Oh, right. He’d been kicked out. Then he was homeless for a little while, until he bumped into that bodyguard guy while getting back his paper. That was it! The bodyguard guy! He had promised him a place to stay under the condition that he help solve cases with his superior special ability. So that meant he must be in a guest room of some sort.
Ranpo yawned, stretching his arms up to the sky, before turning his body so his legs hung draped over the edge of the bed. He found that he was still in his school uniform. Right, he didn’t exactly have anything else to wear. Oh well, he’d deal. The young detective pulled his knees into his chest and leaned back slightly, before thrusting his legs up and forward, using his momentum to spring up to his feet. It was just more fun that way, stop judging.
His socks hit the floor and he discovered that it was covered in an incredibly soft purple carpet. He bent down and swiped his hand over it, enjoying the texture for a minute. When he decided he was done, he extended back to his full height, stretching his back quickly before making his way over to the door. It was a simple brown door, and opened for him after a good push.
The 14 year old was able to figure out where the older man who was housing him was pretty quickly. First of all because he was the greatest detective to ever live, and second of all because of the loud “BANG” that echoed from down the hall to the right. Ranpo flinched at the volume of the sudden sound, covering his ears with his hands. It had just been a door closing behind the bodyguard as he came back from outside, but it still put him on edge for some reason.
Fukuzawa rounded the corner, coming into view with a cup in his hand. Ranpo of course immediately zoomed over, appearing in front of him as if he had teleported.
“Mr. Bodyguard! I’m bored, when’s the next case! Do you have candy?”
Fukuzawa took a few seconds to process the barrage of questions. At least his hair was already pretty grey, he wouldn’t have to worry about the effects of stress aging being too visible.
“Ranpo, I told you to call me Fukuzawa. Can’t you entertain yourself with a puzzle or something? And no, you’ve had enough sugar already.
“Puzzle? I’d rather eat vegetables.”
“Did you just agree to eat vegetables?”
“Ew, no! The texture of those things is so inconsistent, you could have one bite all firm and then the next one is all mushy! And it’s way too much work to use my super deduction to figure out which parts have an acceptable feel. I’d much prefer prepackaged snacks and sweets. At least they can decide on a flavor and texture!”
“That’s not a healthy diet, you have to consume some non-processed foods.”
This kid was going to be the death of Fukuzawa. He was absolutely going to try to get him to eat a bit healthier, but the way things were going so far it was going to be a losing battle. What was this about the texture of the food? Probably just an excuse to not eat healthy.
Fukuzawa took a second to scrutinize his outfit, then asked, “Hey kid, do you have any other clothes with you?”
“Nope. Don’t worry though, I washed it last week.”
….Next step on the to-do list: Get this kid to take a bath. Fukuzawa should have probably anticipated the lack of clothes to change into, it’s not like the boy had any possessions he brought with him. He did find him on the streets after all.
The older man took a second to reflect on the previous night, when he had to rescue the raven haired boy from that crime organization, walking in to find him with a gun to his head. Fukuzawa had slapped him for his recklessness, which he admits may have been a bit harsh, but then the kid just started bawling and repeating the same phrase over and over, “I’m sorry”.
What could have caused such a reaction in the boy was lost on him, but he knew that kids didn’t behave that way for no reason. He was aware the boy’s parents had both died in a car accident, but there had to be more to the story. Regardless, he clearly needed someone to care for him.
Shortly after his breakdown, Ranpo had passed out on Fukuzawa, who had to get a taxi to take the two back to his place. He had looked so vulnerable, so peaceful when he wasn’t exposing everyone’s secrets to the world or just blatantly insulting people.
“I’m going to see if I can find anything that will fit you. You’re going to shower.”
It wasn’t a request, it was a statement. Ranpo of course immediately recognized this and gave a curt nod before walking off to find the bathroom.
That was one benefit to having Ranpo around, he never needed to have anything explained to him because he just already knew almost everything. Fukuzawa sighed as he went off to scrounge through his closet for something remotely suitable for a thin looking 14 year old to wear. Of course this outfit was just temporary, he was going to buy the kid some clothes. Preferably today.
He could hear the shower start up, water splashing against the floor. So far he had managed to find the grey suit he never wore because it was too small. Yeah, that should work great. It wasn’t like he would need it back anyway.
After he made his decision, he gently placed the folded clothes outside the bathroom door, so Ranpo could grab them after he got out.
Fukuzawa wandered back to the kitchen, cracking open a window before taking a stack of documents off the counter. He grabbed his reading glasses, similar to the cheap ones he bought Ranpo but more rounded, and rested them on the bridge of his nose with a sigh. Why did there have to be so much paperwork involved in starting a company for gifted crime fighting?
Before he had even finished reading through the first five papers, he heard the distant shhhhh of water come to a halt, signaling that the young genius had finished getting clean. This was followed by the sound of a door opening and closing, likely him grabbing the stack of clothes. A couple minutes later he re-emerged from the bathroom, the clothes too big on him to look formal, the extra fabric of the sleeves hanging down past his hands. He kept tripping over the excess material of the pant legs as he made his way over to Fukuzawa.
The older man looked up at the sound of shuffling, sighing when he spotted the boy, who currently looked more like a wet cat blanketed with gray fabric. His black hair was soggy, flopping forward to cover part of his face but still keeping his green eyes in view with a pleading look to them.
Fukuzawa walked over and lifted him by his armpits the same way he does with the stray cats that frequent his porch. He placed the boy up on a chair and kneeled down to roll up the bottoms of his pant legs. At least that would solve the tripping problem.
Shockingly, Ranpo didn’t fight the process at all, allowing the older to roll up his sleeves as well. He seemed a bit more content when his hands peaked through the sleeves, exposed to the outside world one again.
One he was done, Fukuzawa placed a snack bar in Ranpo’s hand, curling his smaller hand around it.
“Eat this. I’ve decided we should go clothes shopping today, this outfit won’t do for long.”
“...Thanks.”
Ranpo really was thankful. Truely. Fukuzawa was being very nice to him, giving him food, a place to stay, and clothes to wear. But for some reason he couldn’t help but feel a bit guilty. He really didn’t want any more money to be spent on him than necessary. The least he could do was make the process as easy as possible for him, which is why he decided to leave his distaste for clothes shopping unknown. It’s okay, all had to do was not have a breakdown over the textures that rubbed wrong. Should be easy, right?
Fukuzawa hear the hesitation in the response. Strange, the boy never hesitated when he spoke. And his lack of enthusiasm over an offering of a snack? He was probably just overthinking it, Ranpo was probably just still a bit groggy from waking up not too long ago. It’d be fine.
(It was not fine.)