𝙵𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚜 𝙲𝚊𝚜𝚎 | 𝙱𝚂𝙳 𝙵𝚊𝚗𝚏𝚒𝚌

Five

"I've gathered you here today with both good and bad news." Mizuki begins, warily eyeing the four people in front of her. She tags each name to a face, lingering on every individual as her heart constricts in her chest, thrashing desperately against her ribcage.

She could barely hear her own voice above the pounding of her sternum.

Focus, goddammit.

Mizuki squeezes her eyes shut briefly, clawing at the pieces of her mind.

Pull yourself together.

She had a plan. All they had to do was find Ranpo, and a solution would be reached. Even if they didn't manage to find him, there was still a chance. There was always a chance. Mizuki glances around the room again, gaze pausing on each of her coworkers.

She took note of Dazai, who hadn't been off in a river after all. And how Kunikida, who instead of listening, was currently trying to stay on schedule with his work. He glanced at her every now at then, partially hidden by what she assumed was a computer screen. And, as Mizuki's eyes traveled downward, there was Kenji, who remained seated on the floor, messing with an object in his hands. And finally, Atsushi, the newest recruit.

She'd learned to identify each of them in the past, but it was still rather unsettling to see them in the flesh. It was decidedly different than mere descriptions: vague words, details, and touches that she didn't quite know how to piece together.

Yosano was decidedly absent, presumably still trying to contact the president.

"Good news first, please!" Kenji chimed, slipping through Mizuki's train of thought. He looked at her curiously, clutching something -- presumably his classic straw hat -- tightly between his hands. He was only fourteen, the youngest member of the Agency, and inexperienced, unlike his adult counterparts.

Mizuki took a shuddering breath, praying that her voice wouldn't wobble. "The good news is that I was able to detect this in advance."

"And what is 'this'?" Kenji prompted, fidgeting with the object in his hands.

"'This' is.." Mizuki trailed off, words crumbling at her lips. Nausea curled around her abdomen. "..the bad news."

I have to do this.

"The Agency is in danger. Terrible, life threatening danger." Mizuki's fist tightens around her cane, desperately clinging to it as if it were her anchor. She felt like she was drowning, her skull crushed underneath the pressure of an unforgiving ocean. Her vision blurred with tears. "And if we don't find Ranpo, you will all die before tomorrow's sunrise."

The room ebbs to silence, even the clacking of Kunikida's keyboard coming to a halt as the news sinks in.

"You're joking, right?" Kunikida peers out from behind the ink, half of his face visible. His features were carved with disbelief, his eyebrows scrunched downwards.

"No. I'm not." Mizuki glances around the room, shifting uncomfortably. "We need to get in contact with Ranpo as soon as possible. He's the key to solving this mission."

"Mission?" Kunikida prompts. All eyes were on her -- she had their attention. Just not their belief.

"As you already know, each of us here has an ability." She'd repeated the words a thousand times over in the past. It felt nauseating to voice them now. "Mine is to see people whose lives have twenty-four hours or less in them, or those who have already passed. And I can see all of you. Therefore, we have an emergency, and a mission. To save your lives, and prevent whatever fate has in store for all of you."

"All of us?" Kenji's voice wobbles, childlike. Worry warps his forehead, his mouth, his eyes. "Does this include you? Ranpo? The Pres?"

Mizuki's eyebrows furrow. "I can't see myself, no, and I saw Ranpo earlier this morning. That's what sparked all of this. And Yosano is trying to contact the President as we speak. I have no idea if it applies to him."

I pray not.

"How many fingers am I holding up?" Dazai teases, grinning and raising a palm. Of course he's delighted. He's renowned as a suicidal maniac around the city: frequently caught in garbage barrels, fishing nets, and local rivers. "Just kidding."

"Five. And unfortunately, I'm being serious." Mizuki wrings her fingers together on the top of her cane as anxiety stirs in the pit of her stomach. "Now -- does anyone know where Ranpo was sent for his mission?"

"He was sent to Yokohama Port to inspect some cargo. It's suspected that a company there has been smuggling illegal goods." Kunikida explains, resuming the tapping at his computer. He's unfazed. "Port Mafia is likely involved."

"Great." Mizuki sighs, rubbing at her neck. "I suppose that's a start. Do you know anything else?"

"I do not. The rest is classified."

Yokohama Port had ten major piers, and Ranpo could be at any of them. The odds of finding him were becoming slimmer by the minute. Mizuki felt her hopes snuffing out, akin to candlelight ebbing underneath the weight of molten wax.

"I suppose we could start by looking at Honmoku Pier." It was the core facility, and likely their best bet. "If we can't get in touch with Ranpo, that is."

"I can try to call him." Atsushi says, finally joining the conversation. His face had grown pale over the past few minutes, tinged with shock. It revealed his kind soul, a heart that cared deeply for others. "We've partnered up for port missions before."

This news must be devastating -- he's an orphan too. If he loses this family, he loses everything.

The thought stings, curdling around the edges of Mizuki's mind. She has to force herself to speak, words temporarily stolen from her tongue.

"Sounds good," she manages, "in the meantime, do the rest of you want to identify other potential threats? Since the Port Mafia may be associated with Ranpo's case, it may have to do with them."

Hands raise. Kenji and Dazai -- Mizuki nods warily at them, and they huddle together, Dazai joining Kenji on the floor.

Atsushi's phone rings. Mizuki holds her breath, expectant.

The phone rings once, twice, thrice, all the way up until ten. Silence. Then, Ranpo's voicemail plays, twisting Mizuki's stomach with uneasy longing. 

"Hello, this is the one and only Ranpo Edogawa. I'm a busy man, so call again later. Or not." The tone beeps, beckoning the user to leave a message.

Atsushi leaves none, turning off his phone. He looks to Mizuki, his eyes portraying a thousand words as her heart splits in two. "Should I try again?"

She says nothing, allowing doubt to slither up her spine, sink into her bones. Moments pass, the silence uneasy between them.

Then, she replies.

"No."