He's late again, you thought, not worried in the slightest. Your brother's job was taxing and often paid overtime, while yours was... well...
Tempura oil splashed upwards, projectile liquid nearly hitting you in the eyes. Your reflexes were good enough to have you stepping back at the first sound of cracking grease. You're unsure how water got in the pot, but it happens every time you cook this dish. You sighed. You're klutzy by default, and while you can move with grace it takes significant energy and focus. As of late, you've been rather sluggish. With everyday tasks like this, your mind often wanders off in a haze.
A familiar jingle of keys started outside, only to stop a few seconds later–but not to the opening of the front door. Rather, a quick sneeze filled the silence. With the stove off, you walked over and turned the doorknob to reveal a frazzled Ranpo, dripping wet with raindrops covering his glasses. He tried to dry them off, but his clothes were sopping, too.
"You forgot to bring an umbrella again?" You meant to keep it to yourself, but the thought escaped you, causing your older brother to look up with a pained expression. "My comic strips! I can't read them anymore!" he whined, holding his ruined newspaper in your face. In the background, a neighbor passed, eyeing the pouty Ranpo who was still saturated with water. He was crumpling soggy paper into a ball now. You had to pull Ranpo inside with notable force, throwing the waterlogged newspaper out yourself.
"I wish you'd still pick me up from the Detective Agency..." You ignored that. Ranpo waddled into the bathroom, feet squishing with his every step. "Hey! No shoes in the house!" you yelled, and he tossed them at the front door in response. You'd finished cooking just in time, and began setting the food out: a pile of soba, a saucer of fishy broth and some piping hot fried veggies.
Dinner has been your responsibility ever since your parents died. And now, though you graduated high school two years ago, you still live with Ranpo. Mostly because you know he couldn't manage living alone. It doesn't take his deductive ability to figure that one out. Neither of you mind it; between here and the Agency dorms, it's a shorter walk for Ranpo to get to your apartment (it was easier to let you handle all the home owning drivel) and you get spoiled by him in return for all the cooking and upkeep you do. Your job has a low payout to boot, so it seems fair enough. Besides, you own this little apartment property. There's something satisfying about being female and having your name attached to your home.
You were picking at your noodles when he finally came out. "Let's eat," you sang, taking your half of the grub before he's even seated. "Itadakimasu," he trailed. The tempura batter was really crunchy this time, and the sweet potato it encased was soft and somehow still warm. The two of you slurped up the buckwheat noodles in satisfaction. Ranpo's eyes widened, probably to compliment your cooking as usual. Or so you thought.
"There's a job opening at the Armed Detective Agency," he said. Detectives... you quickly declined. "I don't think I'm cut out for your line of work."
Ranpo just laughed, unnerving you a bit. "You know we have ungifted assistants, right? I've told you about Naomi at the least. You should come along tomorrow to meet her and the others at least," he said, eyes twinkling. You pressed your lips together. The truth is, your brother's ability causes you lots of jealousy. You'd hate for people to know you were related, especially in a workplace as intense as the ADA. But your brother's eyes narrowed back, and you sense lots of intent behind the suggestion.
"For me?"
"Fine. I'll come with," you said, noting the day. Tomorrow, and the day after, are your days off. Still. It's been a long time since I've walked anywhere near the ADA...
He beamed, earning your frown. "You know it's hard to say no to you," you said between bites of battered carrot. Ranpo smiled even bigger. "Yeah, I guess I knew you'd give in." You rolled your eyes at this shut-eyed goofball, amazed at his swelling pride. Even without your parents around, he was still the golden child. Always.
Ranpo finished eating before you did, as you were too lost in thought to move your chopsticks, thinking about tomorrow. But you noticed when, wordlessly, Ranpo trudged to bed before brushing his teeth. You let him off the hook this once; he was definitely exhausted. But you were lying to yourself; it's not that you didn't want to inconvenience his deep slumber, even for the sake of his dental health. Really, you just needed tonight to yourself.
Many nights, you curled up on the futon and played some music. But for now, you turned on the lights in your room, knowing it might be hard for you to fall asleep. Instead, you wrote to your parents, as you would on a bad occasion. It was something your therapist put you up to, though at first you thought it was sick to send letters to the dead. Now, it was a ritual that put your worries to rest. You didn't believe in gods or afterlife anymore. It won't disturb your 'dear' parents in their eternal rest.
Mom and Dad, the page read in your messy pen scrawl.
Ranpo's bringing his useless little sister to his detective job. Guess he sees something in me that you guys didn't.
You hated this entry already. You grit your teeth and tore the paper up, throwing your notebook to the farthest corner of your room. You didn't bother to shut the lights off and instead went to slide under your sheets so even your head is submerged under blanket. You felt yourself shake and your tears wet the futon.
Unfortunately, you didn't get any sleep that night.
--
Notes
The depressive thoughts and episodes of this fanfic are based on my own experiences. In this story, the Edogawa parents had narcissistic personality disorder when alive, which has contributed to your low self-esteem (as it did mine).
As far as your standard fanfic goes, I'll try to minimize the use of abbreviations such as H/C, F/C, etc. (Y/N may come up a lot, and I may use phrases like "your favorite hair color," but I feel that too many abbreviations take away from an immersive experience.)
Credit
The below portion will be continuously updated for the links to any artwork I use:
01 https://twitter.com/artbooksnat/status/732366409179746304
02 https://www.crunchyroll.com/bungo-stray-dogs/episode-30-slap-the-stick-addict-783173 (1:32)
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Becoming Human ✷ (Dazai x Ranpo's Sister! Reader)
Fanfiction"To be lonely is to feel unwanted and unloved, and therefore unloveable. Loneliness is a taste of death. No wonder some people who are desperately lonely lose themselves in mental illness or violence to forget the inner pain." - Jean Vanier You cons...
