tease • edogawa ranpo

nine ; the guide to being a terrible person

When I was six, I greeted our new neighbours for the very first time.

They were gorgeously amiable - an old couple, no younger than maybe 70, both as sweet as cherry-topped pies and wrapped in a comforting warmth like they were carved from the sun itself. They loved when my mother, Hana and I came over for visits. Stepping foot through their doorway always resulted in a hot chocolate (caked in whipped cream and tiny bunny-shaped marshmallows) between our palms, whilst our mother would indulge in a forbidden red substance that often made her a little more jolly than normal. Despite this, she would actually end the night in tears, cradled vulnerably in the friendly old lady's arms, probably without the knowledge that Hana and I could overhear from the kitchen. Father never accompanied us on these visits. I knew this cheered mother up somewhat though, no matter how little sense it made in my head.

When we weren't spending time there, they would send over all sorts of baked treats, much similar to how I'd imagine the taste of pure, melted gold to be like. The cookies ranged from chocolate chip to gingerbread, each specially decorated with intricate designs bordering a delicate, rosy-cheeked animal, whereas other days they'd deliver a selection of dazzling cupcakes and pastel macaroons. I soon discovered that our neighbours had owned a bakery prior to moving, and because of this, I was fully convinced I'd been blessed as luckiest person on Earth. Father didn't so much as nibble on any of these gifts. I used to think that perhaps he simply didn't have a sweet tooth like I did.

Another time, we'd planned a picnic together, but Hana had come down with a horrible fever the previous night. Our father had offered to care for her so mother, myself and our neighbours could still go out and bask in the day's sunlight. Mother had said no almost immediately. Instead, she'd stayed behind with my sister, and I ended up accompanying our neighbours to the park across the road. I drew pictures and stuffed my cheeks with miniature chocolate brownies. That was the day the couple had taken a liking to their newest nickname for me: 'Mochi', claiming it was due to my adorable, hamster-like antics. Adorable was certainly one way to put it.

Arriving home was like a brutal slap to the face; the moment I'd been chaperoned to our front door and ushered inside by my mother, she'd promptly ordered me to go to my room, and that was when not long after the yelling seemingly resumed. I had no idea what for - today had been brilliantly magical enough for me, so what could I have missed out on? Hana was nowhere to be seen, but I didn't spend very long searching because I thought she wouldn't want me to.

Later that evening, in the prohibited hours I didn't normally dare stay awake til, two strange men arrived at our door. They questioned my parents, interrogated even. Weirdly enough, they were thoroughly interested in my sister and I, though I couldn't remember what for, and were consistent in mentioning how someone had filed a report. When the uniformed duo had departed, and I'd hurriedly scrambled back to my room from my spy position at the top of the stairs, my parents were shockingly dead silent. They remained that way for several weeks, and in those several weeks, we didn't lay eyes on our neighbours once.

Eventually, our father caved, because although he never admitted it aloud, Hana and I were certain he was the villain behind our countless skipped visits. However, this time, whilst mother barricaded herself behind slammed doors, father was the one to escort us next door, and he was welcomed in regardless as our neighbours were, in fact, not terrible people.

Then again, maybe it's impossible to categorise who is awful and who is justified - if they had let him return after voices had been raised; insults had been spat; disruptions had occurred, then perhaps our neighbours could've been the so-called (in my opinion, bullshit) 'bigger, better people'. Even so, once our father had stormed out, tugging my sister and I along like rag dolls, he wasn't allowed to come back, and rightfully so. I believed they weren't in the wrong for shutting him out, as despite only being seven, my father's backhanded compliments and weirdly personal, bittersweet queries to the older couple hadn't flown over my head like they did Hana. I've always been an inquisitive listener after all.

Nonetheless, despite how livid I was with him that night, he was still my father and I was still his daughter. In order to acquire any slither of praise from the commonly aloof figure, I obeyed the odd, despicable commands he began to assign me with. Firstly, it was little things - a cold sneer or an abrupt turn of the shoulder the other way if I were to run into the couple leaving our doors at the same time. Then, during a particularly short period, he would have me deliver envelopes through their letterbox, and ordered me under no circumstance to ever open them myself. That is when the two started to shake, visibly paranoid whenever I caught their faces outside. Finally, after mother was in the swing of things again and our old routine fell back into place, if I ever found myself within the walls caked in soothing magnolia of their home, I would retrieve an item of my father's request without the realisation of the two who had fallen victim to his merciless targeting.

Of course I knew it was wrong, but I regarded this as the origin of my moral downfall - anything to be praised as his little angel. Looking back on it now makes me want to throw up.

As weeks drifted by, the whole situation finally came to a finish mid-November; the enclosing of slender fingers around my frail wrist halted me in my tracks, outstretched and ready to drop an antique vase embellished with magenta-petalled blossoms as per my father's instructions. My mother's pupils were glazed over in cracked ice, on the verge of shattering into salty teardrops the moment she'd realised what was going on. Our neighbours moved out after that - we never spoke a word to them again. I couldn't even apologise.

To be a so-called 'terrible person' is something that I feel as though I have enough experience to comment on, though it goes without saying. Maybe I'm a professional in the matter, so take it from me - to achieve the role to the best of your abilities, you must:

1. Have a godawful parent who manipulates you into demonstrating abhorrent behaviour to a pair of affable neighbours of your choice, along with tricking you into helping them illegally stash multiple shop items into their bag for most of your childhood.

2. A contradiction to step 1 already, I suppose, but blame said parent for your own actions because you feel too guilty to accept the attitude you'd adopted in order to be praised, and deny that part of your life ever existing. Continue to blame them even after they are no longer in your life yet you proceed to commit the odious crimes regardless.

3. If you have a younger sibling, coerce them into following in your footsteps because you are selfish and unable to handle the weighty culpability on your shoulders by yourself.

4. Do not apologise and do not yield, no matter how desperately you no longer want to follow this guide.

5. Meet a strange immature boy in a candy shop who actually works as a cocky detective, get stuck performing as his (acting) assistant for a week, before finally having him catch out your thieving secret. You will begin to feel copious amounts of regret, but you must stay resilient if you want to accomplish the 'rewards' this guide promises.

6. Go back on absolutely everything that has led you to this moment, and promise this boy you will no longer be caught up in this guide for a warm, fuzzy reason completely unbeknownst to you, one you can only assume is pure stupidity. All for this dumb boy.

(7. Ignore step 6 because that was never meant to be a part of the plan!)

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a/n ; this chapter makes me giggle tbh it's lowkey kinda pointless so ima prob delete it later i just wrote it trying to be edgy and give some kinda backstory idk 🫣🫣🫣 Also i watched the new guardians of the galaxy movie on sunday and i sobbed like a baby im so broken itll take me at least a decade to recover from this