|| 𝗩𝗘𝗟𝗟𝗜𝗖𝗛𝗢𝗥 - various DODEU oneshots

"you wouldn't want bad press, would you?"

yum yum, violence 😍

(ren belongs to slayqueenxoxo)

Night had fallen on Rayani City. The air was misty from the evening drizzle, casting light upon the vibrant hues of the flowers planted along the city library. Ren Enomoto, his guitar strapped to his back, ambled along the empty pavement and hummed a tune from one of his earlier concerts.

He often forgot how beautiful the city was at night, and how quiet it was. Had he not been so exhausted from the events of earlier, he surely would've stopped to admire the stars, and how every one of them looked identical but so different. How each one told their own stories, painted amongst the blanket of azure sky.

Ren brought a hand to his mouth to stifle a yawn. Goodness, he hadn't been so worn out in ages. His hands ached from signing hundreds of autographs in the morning - everywhere he went, he was recognised by adoring fans, but he still couldn't figure out what they loved him for: his music, or his heroic feats and startlingly good hair. Oh well. A fan was a fan, after all.

Something shifted in the darkness. Ren looked around, squinting.

Nothing moved. Perhaps it was a stray animal.

And so he shrugged and continued down the pathway, hitching up his guitar. He'd respond to any missing pet posters in the morning, or delegate the matter to one of his assistants. Ismasu was always looking for a reason to go to the animal shelter anyway, so he was sure she'd welcome missing a day of patrol to search for a cat.

The leaves to his right rustled. From the corner of his eye, Ren could've sworn he saw a vaguely familiar figure dart out of sight.

"Hello?" Slowly, cautiously, he slung his guitar off of his shoulders and propped it against the brick wall. "Is someone there? An admiring fan, maybe? If you have a pen, I'd be happy to-"

"You should know by now that I'm not one of your brain-dead fans, Enomoto."

Ah, there he was. Perfectly balanced atop the brick wall was Shuri Hagasume, a.k.a the Detective, and Ren's arch-nemesis for as long as he could remember. His jacket billowed dramatically behind him, and the moonlight illuminated him rather ominously.

"Shame. My tickets are a bargain. Fifty per cent off if you buy a T-shirt with it-"

"Stop talking. We've done this a billion times, and you know what I'm here for."

Ren touched his fingers to his chest. "My Fate? Tsk, tsk. How selfish of you, darling. You have your own. Why do you want mine for?"

"I'm not here to explain my reasonings to you, Enomoto." He withdrew his blade from the sheath strapped to his side.

"I'm touched that I'm the subject of your attraction, Shuri, but I'm afraid I'll have to refuse. I'm awfully tired, you see, and-"

Something sharp and cold flew past his cheek. Ren's meticulously planned words died in his throat.

He looked back at where Shuri had been standing.

Shuri was no longer there.

"My, oh my," Ren pinched a CD between his fingers, and turned around, slowly, slowly, carefully examining his surroundings and waiting-

The next time Shuri attacked him, his blade's edge cutting through the air, Ren was ready. He pressed the flat metal part of his sleeve against the blade, pushing Shuri back. If he faltered, if he stumbled, the blade would forgo his sleeve and cut him in half.

That wouldn't look good on the front of a newspaper.

Ren's shoes dug into the gravel.

"Come now, Shuri," Ren was buying time now, toying with him, "isn't it too late in the night for these shenanigans?"