Prey and Predator [Ranpo x Reader] + Bonus ✓

Bonus: Downfall tradition

February had, by far, been one of the coldest months in Yokohama. Though the temperature had risen reasonably compared to the previous month, the need for warm attire was nevertheless imperative.

No enthusiasm could match that which the children had shown in the morning. Prompted by the sight of snow and frost creeping at the corner of their windows, Roze and Tarō rushed their way into mine and Ranpo's room in a desperate attempt to wake us up from stubborn slumber. It had broken my heart to tell them that it wasn't possible to play in the snow so early in the morning (as it was a weekday), but shortly watched the brightness return to their eyes as I pragmatically suggested snow fights and building snowmen after the girl returned from school and had completed all her homework.

Tarō had been dropped off at my brother's, dressed warmly for a shopping trip he was offered to join with his aunt also. Brother had joked that, as males, they would stereotypically bond over their lack of interest for designer clothes and skincare products. Having received no incentive from either parent, Tarō argued in the few strong words that he knew that he liked to go shopping with Roze and me — two women.

The young boy claimed that he liked to accompany his sister through local stationery stores and libraries, helping her pick between equipment for school and the next set of books for her reading list; Tarō confessed that he felt safe whenever I clung him to my shoulders as we passed through street markets or busy shopping centres, humbly spoiled with a favourite pastry before selflessly requesting one for Papa, Roze and myself — he told me he'd pay me back in hugs.

Tarō said that shopping made him happy therefore he, a male, could like shopping too.

The green-eyed toddler gave his uncle the silent treatment and chose to ignore him until he took back what he had said. Brother looked amused by the behaviour and chose not to apologise to test Tarō's persistence; despite the response, he tenderly assimilated the boy's attitude to my own when I was his age:

"You grew up liking things designated for boys only (as society dictates), sometimes even going as far as rejecting "girly things" due to its feminine connotations. You always saw gender-allocated interests to be a silly social construct, and by the looks of it so does Tarō. I'm glad. You ought to be proud of him, [Y/N], Ranpo."

Tarō was nevertheless polite and respectful towards those both younger and older than him, so much so that he instinctively said thank-you when Brother readjusted his green scarf around his neck before slapping his palm against his mouth for breaking the petty silence. Still, respect was a mutual gift for the boy; if he did not receive any he would not be giving back much; he was by no means rude, but did not try to sugarcoat his bluntness should anyone undermine him.

'Tarō called my brother uncouth...' I heaved as the steam of hot chocolate swirled over the glass rim, smoking shapes into the bitter coldness of the coffee shop. 'Tarō emphasises the couth when he says it: un-coof. My brother is uncoof...'

The figure sitting beside me chuckled quietly, hesitantly, and rested their cheek against the back of their hand, attentive eyes watching the snow falling outside. Beneath the yellow tint of the bulbs above, Atsushi's hair lit a bronze silver, a lock of unevenly cut hair still hovering over his cheek as he turned to look at me with a soft smile.

'That's a big word for a four-year-old,' he affirmed, heterochromic eyes vanishing behind closed lids. 'The biggest word I knew at that age must've been hello... See, I've never been an intellectually-gifted individual...'

Fluttering his lashes apart, Atsushi looked down at his hot chocolate and stirred a sachet of sugar in, careful to avoid clinking the spoon against the glass and disturbing the hefty silence set indoors. Golden melancholy seeped through the violet hue of his eyes, its vibrance disturbed by past recollections of childhood events that had scarred him.