𝙵𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚜 𝙲𝚊𝚜𝚎 | 𝙱𝚂𝙳 𝙵𝚊𝚗𝚏𝚒𝚌

Two

A/N: A 'Δ' indicates a flashback; however, will only be used if said flashback starts the chapter. Apologies for the late notice.

-Δ-

"All's well that's well for me!" Excitement saturates his voice, chipper and bright. It's almost cute. "Thoughts?"

Mizuki falters. "Huh?" Not what she expected for a personal motto; but, not surprising, coming from him.

The city backdrop is tinted with orange and red, splattered by the sun's dying light. At least, that's what Ranpo claimed. He'd also complained, quite loudly, grumpily noting that the sunset was too bright against the horizon.

She'd rather see it than be blind to it all.

Mizuki walks alongside him, navigating the way to the train station. It was ironic, a blind person leading someone with sight.

"All's well that's well for me. I just came up with it." His shoes tap against the sidewalk, slowing. "Isn't it fitting?"

She chuckles. His joy was infectious, gracing a gentle, but genuine, smile to her lips. "It's a great life motto, Ranpo-san."

"Of course it is," Ranpo replies, a note of pride leaking into his tone. He pauses. "By the way, drop the honorifics. You're not just any coworker of mine."

The words he chose not to speak linger underneath the surface, unheard but understood. 'You matter to me.' A faint blush, warm but shy, settles on Mizuki's cheekbones.

It'd been years since she'd been able to call anyone 'friend'.

"That's okay with you?" She manages, flustered. Ranpo didn't seem like the type to drop formalities, especially when they put him into a good light.

"Yes, by all means," He reassures, steps quickening against the pavement. "Call me Ranpo."

-

"Thirty-six?" A voice, behind her.

Mizuki wavers. Her heart, still racing, cuts through her senses. It couldn't be true. She inhales, clenching her jaw.

Not true. Not true. Not true.

"Thirty...six...?"

There was no chance that any of her coworkers were dying today.

Mizuki exhales, rubbing the Braille on her service card. She sets it on the counter, raising her hand. Her voice wobbles.

"Here."

After paying, she storms upstairs, where conversations and people were few. There were shelves upstairs, stocked with endless novels and historical recollections, none of which were in Braille.

Her hands tremble with every step.

Recollections and memories swirl around her mind, vivid words and joyful phrases, countless days where cases were few and time was free. From shared snacks at the office to winded conversations on the street. The hearty laughs, the narrowly hidden smiles, the ceaseless highs and scarce lows.

Mizuki pauses at the top of the stairwell, air tumbling through her lungs. She remembered how Ranpo would, in private, rely on her. Ask her for advice, even. He practiced a strange clinginess, tugging her along from case to case, even when he knew observations weren't her forte.

Solving cases became a daily task for the two of them. She recalled the walks that followed, laughter that made time fly. Mizuki remembered his refusals, how he never learned the way to the train station, or even how to ride it. How he insisted on being led around, by her.