Drowning in the swamp of memories

"Guild Business"

The day was overcast, a heavy blanket of clouds casting a dull gray hue over Yokohama. Raindrops occasionally tapped against the windows of the Armed Detective Agency, creating a rhythmic backdrop to our idle chatter. Rampo and I were sprawled on the old couch in the break room, ignoring the stacks of paperwork that loomed like dark clouds over our responsibilities. I leaned back, one leg draped over the other, while Rampo adjusted his glasses, the playful glint in his eye contrasting with the dreariness outside.

“Honestly, grape candies are the pinnacle of confectionery,” I declared, trying to keep the mood light.

Rampo scoffed, “You’re out of your mind, Mizuki-chan. Everyone knows lemon is superior!”

“Lemon? Please. That’s a flavor for losers.” I waved my hand dismissively, grinning. “At least grape is a classic, unlike your weird obsession with citrus.”

Just then, Atsushi and Tanizaki broke into our conversation. “You guys heard about the Guild?” Atsushi asked, his eyes wide with concern. “They’re supposedly after you and me!”

“Yeah, and they’re from London or something,” Tanizaki added, trying to keep his voice steady. “I don’t know why they care, but it can’t be good.”

Rampo leaned back, unconcerned. “Maybe they want you because you’re too aggressive,” he said with a shrug.

“Not aggressive. Just misunderstood,” I countered. “I’m practically a sweetheart compared to Yosano. You should have seen her when I accidentally cut her dress last week. I thought she was going to eat me alive!” I laughed, remembering her fierce glare.

As they continued to speculate, I caught sight of a helicopter hovering just outside the agency. “Looks like it’s showtime,” I said, not bothering to move. “I already knew they’d come knocking.”

Atsushi squinted through the window. “Do you think they’re coming for us? What if they—”

“Relax,” I interrupted. “They probably just want to discuss how to make terrible business deals.” Rampo nodded in agreement, both of us knowing we could handle whatever came next.

After some hushed conversations between Fukuzawa and a visitor I couldn’t see, I was called into the president’s office. As I entered, I spotted Dazai slouched in his chair, wearing that annoyingly serious expression. Ugh, he looked even worse with that scowl—like a lost elf trying too hard to fit in.

“Ah, Mizuki-chan,” Fukuzawa said, his voice steady. “The boss of the Guild will be here shortly. You need to be my bodyguard during the meeting.”

“Me?” I raised an eyebrow, crossing my arms. “Why not send someone more suitable? I’m pretty sure you’ve been against my ‘not-so-cruel’ fighting style before.”

“Your skills are unmatched,” Fukuzawa replied, his tone unwavering. “This is not a discussion.”

Before I could retort, Naomi entered with coffee. I reached out for a cup, but Fukuzawa smacked my hand away before I could grab it. “Focus, Mizuki.”

“chill, why are you so hard on me?” I grumbled under my breath, trying to recover my dignity.

As I paced around the room, Fukuzawa’s voice interrupted my thoughts. “The Guild’s leader is here.”

The door swung open, and in walked a man whose presence filled the room with an unsettling mix of confidence and menace. His slicked-back golden hair gleamed under the fluorescent lights, and his piercing gaze seemed to take stock of everything and everyone in the room. Accompanying him was a girl with vibrant rose-colored hair and a boy who had the look of a simple farmer, both trailing behind like obedient puppies.

“Good afternoon,” the man said, his tone smooth yet predatory. “I’m here to discuss a business proposition with the Armed Detective Agency.”

I kept my expression neutral, not bothering to look up from my shoes.

As Naomi poured coffee, the man continued, “I’ve come to acquire the agency. I need specific individuals… like your ‘tiger’ and this fierce little ice queen.” He turned his gaze on me, his smile unsettling. “Mizuki-chan, isn’t it?”

I met his gaze, my blue crystal eyes icy and unyielding. “You’re mistaken if you think I’m impressed by your flashy entrance or your weak threats.”

He chuckled, glancing at my gloves. “Covering up the freak you are, Katara? How quaint.”

Fukuzawa’s hand landed firmly on my shoulder as I felt my temper flare. “Mizuki,” he warned in a low tone.

Before I could act on my instinct to leap at him, Fukuzawa smacked me on the jaw, hard enough to make me stagger back. “Control yourself,” he hissed, his expression serious.

The man—who I was starting to think of as “that pathetic Francis”—laughed, enjoying the spectacle. “You’re the feisty one, then,” he said, looking at me like a cat sizing up a mouse. “Tell me, what do you think of my offer to buy the ADA? Surely you’d want to be on the winning side.”

“Sorry, but I don’t make deals with losers,” I shot back, sticking my tongue out at him.

Fukuzawa cleared his throat. “We will not be selling the agency. Every member here, including Mizuki and Atsushi, has earned their place. You want the ADA because we’ve created a space for ability users. It’s not for sale.”

“Is that so?” Francis leaned back in his chair, smirking. “I’ll take what I want, dear. Sooner or later, the ADA will be mine.”

His words sent a chill through the room, and I felt a surge of defiance. “In your dreams, old man,” I declared.

Fukuzawa’s eyes narrowed, his expression grave. “That will not happen.”

As Francis and his companions prepared to leave, I couldn’t shake the feeling that this encounter was only the beginning. I glanced over at him, noticing how he carried himself like he owned the world, and mentally prepared for what was coming. He might think he was Gabriel from "Miraculous," but I wasn’t about to let him steal my spotlight.

As they left, Kenji followed them to the elevator, offering a cheery goodbye. “Losers,” I muttered again, crossing my arms defiantly.

Fukuzawa turned to me with that familiar serious expression. “You need to focus, Mizuki. Keep your emotions in check; this isn’t a game.”

“Sure,” I replied, rolling my eyes. “Just keep smacking me whenever I get upset, and I’ll be fine.”

With that, I returned to my spot on the couch, determination burning in my chest. Whatever Francis’s plans were, I was ready to face him head-on, and no amount of smacking was going to keep me from protecting what mattered most.