The Untold Origins of The Port Mafia

〜 The Boy In A Human Body 〜

(A/N: Art isn't mine, I found it on Pinterest and thought it captured the mood of this chapter very well.)

~ A Year Later ~

This is one of the smallest bridges in Yokohama, over a shallow, slow-flowing canal, too low for even a sailboat to pass under, but it will do the job.

The young boy, only just 13 stands solemnly on the railing, black hair and bandages ruffling in the wind.

With no feeling in his heart he takes his final step . . .

-

As the Boss's illness worsens, days off have become increasingly rare but today is one of them.

Elise skips eagerly ahead, the summer heat not fazing her.

"Elise-chan, be careful with your ice cream!" Mori warns.

The girl giggles as if not hearing, but obeys anyway. Just a few steps behind her is the young genius, now mafia strategist, who demanded to accompany them today, saying he was bored and wanted to get to know his future bosses better.

Ranpo holds a kitten-shaped popsicle, licking it happily, looking like a school child rather than a mafioso. It's times like these when Fukuzawa feels a stab of regret.

'This boy should be in school.'

But he really shouldn't. He's smart enough without it, and no school could fix his social skills, he'd only be bored and get bullied. Fukuzawa knows this.

Speaking of school, Akiko was so eager to join them after the long day of exams that she barely bothered to change out of her uniform, keeping her hair in its plait, only swapping out the sailor top for a tee shirt, her pleated school skirt still fluttering in the breeze. Walking between Fukuzawa and Mori, she bites straight into her ice cream, savouring the cold sweetness of it.

Normally she'd walk with Elise, but she's not so sure about the older boy. He seems a bit full of himself, and if there's one thing she hates it's guys who think they're better than everyone else.

"Damn, I really love the Port Mafia. It's great, no work uniform or fixed schedule. Thanks for taking me in Fukuzawa-san, and you too Mori-san." He smiles widely at the two men, though he looks up to both of them equally, having dinner with them more often than alone at home these days, it's obvious whom he favours.

There are a few things they've learnt about Hirai Ranpo.

One, his legal name is actually Hirai Tarou, but he prefers the name Edogawa Ranpo, the nickname given to him by his late father, his "detective name" he called it. He hardly ever bothers with honorifics, just Ranpo (or The World's Greatest Strategist) is fine.

Two, he has a very fast metabolism and that's why he's constantly snacking but still at a normal weight.

Three, he can function on very little sleep without much struggle but he prefers to sleep longer and enjoy his dreams. (He most often dreams of four things, in this order: sweets, solving a case with his father, baking with his mother, and having a best friend.)

Four, he can't sleep in total darkness.

-

It seems the bridge was not indeed tall enough (maybe the boy knew that in his heart of hearts).

The canal is deeper than one would expect, but not deep enough to be of any help when falling from such a height.

He splashes violently, his body slamming with the impact to the concrete bottom of the man-made waterway. His chest is tight and he struggles to move or even breathe, yet somehow he can still feel his lungs filling with water. A beautiful summer's day and an ugly death. An ugly end to an ugly life.