ᴅᴀʏʟɪɢʜᴛ || ʀᴀɴᴘᴏᴇ

• 2 •

"I'm so bored." Ranpo yawned, leaning back in his chair dangerously close to the corner of the wall. Kunikida looked like he was going to burst.

"You've said the same thing five times. Please for the love of god find something to do!" He snapped, the vein on his forehead bulging in anger. Dazai did nothing to stop his partner's outburst, choosing to move his headphones back over his ears and stare at the ceiling.

"What are you doing?" Atsushi had asked.

"I'm thinking of ways to destroy Nakahara Chuuya of course!" Dazai replied in a sing-song voice.

"... Right."

"But Kunikida!" Ranpo whined, "I have nothing to do! I've solved all of my cases!" He absentmindedly chewed his pen, pretending it was his favourite sweet.

"Well, not all of them." Junichirou corrected, instantly regretting it when the smirk on Ranpo's face was replaced with annoyance, his eyes piercing into the younger boy's. Junichirou laughed awkwardly, trying to shift Ranpo's gaze.

"Why don't you visit the small town where the serial killings are happening?" The newest member of the agency, Kyouka asked. She was quietly sitting at her desk, arms by her side like a robot waiting for instructions. Ranpo hummed in thought. It wasn't a bad idea. It would just require a lot of walking.

"I can walk you down to the station and help you with the train Ranpo! I've been meaning to take some leave to visit my farm anyway!" Kenji beamed, hooking his arm around Ranpo's shoulders.

Kenji had the common sense to tell Fukuzawa why he was leaving, which Ranpo sincerely regretted now.

The door slammed behind him, causing a small yelp to escape from his lips. The room was pitch black, no windows and no exit. He shone his light in every direction, hoping to see anything that wasn't a wall.

Eventually there was a grunt, coming from the corner of the room. Ranpo audibly gulped and tip toed over to the sound, trying to ignore the feeling of prying eyes on him. What he noticed was a coffin, about seven foot tall and mahogany. There were bent, rusted nails sticking out of the wood. Ranpo crept closer, was this the key to finding out what happened to those men? Will he uncover a dark truth about Aya's family?

His fingertips had only grazed the outsides of the coffin when he was propelled backwards with such force that he felt the air in his lungs leave and he sputtered and gasped. Large hands were around his throat and he was pinned to the wall. He had somewhat expected it, he just wasn't expecting it to be so quick. It seemed like this was where the serial killer resided - just as he had thought. He had to escape some how. His phone clattered on the ground, facing upside down so the torch was illuminating the mysterious person's face.

He was tall, around six feet, raggedy brown hair covering most of his face. However, even the hair couldn't hide the dark circles under his eyes and the angry snarl. The light suddenly flicked on, and the man hissed at the sudden change and loosened his grip ever so slightly.

"Run!" Aya screeched. Ranpo had taken advantage of this and kicked the man in the stomach, causing the person to stumble backwards. He gripped his phone and sprinted out of the room. He flew down the stairs and out of the house, not even registering the fact that it was still storming.

He ran until he couldn't run anymore. His breathing was uneven, still recovering from the blow that man had landed on him when he had pushed him into the wall. His ribs ached, probably blossoming in purple and blue bruises. He had not eaten much, so his body was low on fuel and every step was agony. When he reached the town, it was midnight and he was gasping for air. Those still outside were watching him in concern. He stumbled to number thirty five by the farm and rapped on the door.