"Natsume-sensei finished reading it that quickly."
Spending Saturday at home, Asou Akiya muttered to himself as he carved decorative flowers out of a radish.
Unaware that something had gone missing from the house, Randou emerged from the home gym and said to the man who had just returned from a shopping trip laden with ingredients,
"Akiya, are we having Chinese food today?"
Asou Akiya raised the radish in his hand.
"I'm doing the prep work."
Trailing behind Randou was a Ranpo-cat who looked as though he was moments away from collapsing onto the floor. He resembled someone who had just been dragged out of the water, his entire body drenched in sweat. His arms and legs had gone limp, and he had to cling to Randou's arm just to keep himself from falling over.
Asou Akiya found the sight thoroughly satisfying.
"Ranpo, Fukuzawa-sensei has already drawn up a reasonable training schedule for you. Randou and I will be responsible for supervising your workouts."
Unlike the original version of Fukuzawa Yukichi, who had practically become a full-time babysitter, this Fukuzawa Yukichi was capable of being strict with Edogawa Ranpo.
Out of the seven days in a week, Edogawa Ranpo spent two curled up at home. During the other five, he followed Fukuzawa Yukichi around during the day, assisting with work and solving cases. At night, he would return home to play video games and stuff himself with traditional sweets. Before anyone realized it, his waistline had expanded by an entire size, and traces of baby fat had begun appearing on his face.
Edogawa Ranpo let out a mournful wail.
"I really can't do this anymore..."
Randou wiped the sweat from his neck with a towel and replied calmly,
"If you still have enough energy to complain, then you still have strength left. Tomorrow, you'll continue training with me. No sleeping in and no slacking off."
Edogawa Ranpo's vision went black.
His fingers loosened, and he pitched forward toward the floor.
Reacting swiftly, Randou caught him before he could fall.
"Akiya, I think he's low on sugar..." Randou said with some confusion. "That's strange. He eats so many sweets every day, yet he's still lacking sugar?"
"Maybe he's just an industrial-scale sugar consumer."
Asou Akiya joked as he rose to take Ranpo from him.
Randou refused.
"He's covered in sweat. He'll get your clothes dirty."
Having fully embraced his responsibilities as a guardian, Randou personally escorted the boy over to a chair to rest. He patted the teenager's pale face before helping him drink some glucose water.
After recovering a bit of awareness, Edogawa Ranpo wrapped his arms around Randou's waist and begged for mercy.
"Can't you see I'm about to pass out?!"
"Mhm."
"Mr. Randou... cut the training in half... and then cut it in half again... okay?"
"No."
Randou answered with ruthless indifference.
Cat sobbing uncontrollably.jpg
Both physically and emotionally wounded, Edogawa Ranpo retreated into his shell. Refusing to be comforted by anyone, he remained dejected even after taking a bath. By lunchtime, despite the table being laden with an extravagant spread of Chinese dishes, he couldn't bring himself to feel happy. Curled up in his chair, he looked utterly pitiful.
Arriving punctually for lunch, Nakahara Chuuya walked in from outside the villa with both hands tucked into his pockets. His clothes could hardly be described as flashy or luxurious, but they were understated and stylish, perfectly in step with current fashion trends.
"What happened to him?" Nakahara Chuuya asked in confusion.
Asou Akiya had initially found the situation rather amusing, but now he felt a twinge of sympathy.
"Ranpo started exercising seriously today. He's having a hard time adjusting to it. Randou, don't you think you could ease up on the standards a little?"
Randou placed the ladle into the soup bowl, his heart as unyielding as stone.
"Don't let him fool you. Think about it—Ranpo-kun is already fifteen years old, yet he can't even beat eleven-year-old Chuuya-kun in a fight."
Asou Akiya let out an awkward laugh.
"Isn't that... perfectly normal?"
Forget a mere four-year age gap.
Even twenty-six-year-old Ranpo wouldn't be able to beat Chuuya in his childhood years.
"How is that normal?!" Randou exclaimed in astonishment as he looked back and forth between Ranpo and Chuuya, who had just taken his seat. "Ranpo-kun, aren't you always insisting that you're Chuuya-kun's older brother? Then please show a little dignity worthy of an elder sibling. If danger arises, you can't exactly hide behind Chuuya-kun's back, can you?"
That hit where it hurt.
Edogawa Ranpo grumbled under his breath and finally began eating.
After understanding what had happened, Nakahara Chuuya couldn't help feeling amused. The corners of his lips curled upward.
"Yeah," he said with a grin. "Do your best."
By now, his appearance was no longer hidden beneath excessive disguise.
Through repeated testing and careful probing by himself, Edogawa Ranpo, and Asou Akiya, they had gradually removed the traces of cosmetic concealment bit by bit. Judging from Randou's reactions, they had confirmed that Nakahara Chuuya's true appearance would not, at least for the time being, trigger any dangerous memories or emotional landmines.
Nakahara Chuuya's young age was one reason for it; his features had not yet fully matured. Another reason was that he constantly wore colored contact lenses to conceal the true color of his eyes. Coupled with subtle adjustments to his eyebrows and hairstyle, even a fully restored Arthur Rimbaud might not necessarily associate the eleven-year-old Nakahara Chuuya with the adult Paul Verlaine.
The slight feeling of familiarity, little more than a fleeting impression, was slowly buried beneath Randou's own assumptions as their interactions became routine.
They happened to get along well.
Perhaps that, more than anything else, was the explanation Randou chose to believe.
This matter could be considered the result of the combined efforts of all three of them. Fortunately, they had managed to help Chuuya safely overcome this potential crisis.
As Nakahara Chuuya ate the richly flavored Chinese dishes, his thoughts wandered.
Just how worried is Dad about Mr. Randou's former partner to take precautions to this extent? Could Mr. Randou really forgive that person once he regains his memories? That's impossible. Ranpo said the two of them have a grudge against each other. If they met face-to-face, they'd probably start fighting on the spot.
After lunch, Asou Akiya stayed behind to clear the dishes from the table, while Edogawa Ranpo and Nakahara Chuuya were taken outside by Randou for a walk to help digest their meal.
Watching the older and younger boys playing around the flowerbeds in front of the villa, Randou suddenly had the peculiar sensation that he was raising two cats. At long last, he admitted that Akiya's claim that "raising cats is beneficial for one's mental and physical well-being" might actually be true.
Taking advantage of a moment when neither of the boys was paying attention, Randou slipped back inside to find Akiya. Wrapping his arms around him from behind in the kitchen, he pressed himself affectionately against his lover.
Asou Akiya's hands were submerged in the sink, washing dishes amid the foamy bubbles of dish soap. Scooping up a bit of foam, he reached out as if to dab it onto Randou's nose.
Randou hurriedly dodged away, refusing to let greasy soap bubbles touch him.
"Akiya!"
"Randou, weren't you the one supervising the children? Why did the person in charge of childcare sneak back in here?"
"They're playing. They don't need me watching over them."
With practiced familiarity, Randou slipped a hand into Akiya's trouser pocket and retrieved his cellphone. After unlocking it with ease, he found that the wallpaper displayed on the screen was a photograph of a French Ragdoll cat alongside a black cat and an orange tabby.
Looking aggrieved, Randou said,
"Have you been raising me like a cat all this time?"
Asou Akiya replied without hesitation,
"My dear, you were my very first cat! The most expensive breed of all!"
Randou tucked the phone back into Akiya's pocket before burying his face against Akiya's shoulder.
"I'm not expensive at all."
The couple, who could be downright demonic toward their enemies, lived in perfect harmony at home, accepting and indulging each other's little flaws.
Two small heads peeked in through the kitchen window.
Edogawa Ranpo: [See? That's your dad and your mom. They don't need a third wheel.]
Nakahara Chuuya bared his teeth at him, refusing to be provoked. [I'm perfectly happy with this!]
When it was time for the midday nap, Asou Akiya coaxed both children into bed. After informing Randou where he was going, he headed out to retrieve the poetry manuscript he had lent to Natsume Souseki earlier that morning.
And just like that, their day of rest came to an end.
On Sunday, Asou Akiya received a message from Natsume Souseki:
[Tonight at eight o'clock. Bankoudou Hall.]
He pushed himself upright from Randou's side. Their skin brushed against each other, smooth and delicate, stirring the heart with irresistible intimacy. The Frenchman's long legs lay sprawled across him, toes hooking lightly against him as if refusing to let him leave.
When it came to openness in both thought and action, ten Japanese people combined still couldn't compare to a single French person.
Asou Akiya replied:
[Understood.]
After sending the message, he silently slipped back beneath the covers. Pulling Randou into his arms, he held him tightly, his hand resting against the curve of his lover's hip as lingering memories surfaced unbidden.
A Randou like this...
Even in my dreams, I'd want to share a bed with him for the rest of my life.
No one could separate them.
Not the Japanese government.
Not the French government, either.
Asou Akiya sulked inwardly.
I want to glare at them too. I want to threaten them and say all sorts of ruthless things...
But I can't beat them.
Randou nuzzled lightly against his chest, the tip of his nose pressing into the resilient muscle beneath his skin.
"Akiya, your heartbeat is all over the place."
"Mhm."
Only a little...
He swore it was only a little.
But he really was worried.
Night fell.
At eight o'clock in the evening, Asou Akiya moved alone through the dangerous streets of Yokohama.
Disturbances echoed constantly from the dark alleyways. Pedestrians hurried along, eager to leave. The women soliciting customers in the red-light district drifted in and out of sight beneath the neon glow, while the street lined with bars remained as lively as ever, filled with groups of young people arriving together to enjoy the nightlife.
Nishida Shibashi followed several paces behind him, acting as his bodyguard with an impassive expression. His Ability remained active over Asou Akiya the entire time, ready to provide protection the instant a bullet cut through the air, transforming anything launched at them into harmless bubbles.
Nishida Shibashi had never been to Bankoudou before. As they approached the tunnel beneath the railway crossing, Asou Akiya spoke to the man concealed in the shadows.
"Wait at the tunnel entrance. You don't need to come inside."
Nishida Shibashi nodded and withdrew his Ability without hesitation. Although he was curious about whom this man was meeting so late at night, his lingering resentment at being ordered around outweighed that curiosity. He couldn't care less whether Asou Akiya lived or died; all he cared about was when he could finally go home and rest.
After all, nobody wanted to work overtime every single day.
Inside the Bankoudou Hall, the blackboard had been wiped spotless.
Asou Akiya took a seat in the front row beneath the lectern. He arranged paper and a pen neatly on the desk before him, every bit the image of an exemplary student—provided one ignored the absent-minded expression on his face as he rested his chin in both hands and stared blankly ahead.
At exactly eight o'clock, a calico cat with impeccably groomed fur appeared outside Wankadou.
Moments later, the doors of Bankoudou closed, shutting out the outside world and transforming the place into Natsume Souseki's classroom.
After arriving, Natsume Souseki wasted no time on pleasantries and instead gave Asou Akiya an entire lesson on counter-surveillance techniques.
Asou Akiya had been exposed to such knowledge within the Port Mafia before, but his understanding remained relatively superficial. No matter what, the government possessed far more expertise in this area than the Mafia did. It was precisely the kind of specialized instruction that required a true professional to fill in the gaps.
By the end of the hour-long lesson, the blackboard had been filled from top to bottom with writing.
Natsume Souseki tossed the stub of chalk back into the chalk box.
Neither teacher nor student acknowledged aloud that this had been a class.
Their gazes met.
Asou Akiya sat with impeccable posture.
The soul of a Chinese man made him deeply respectful toward teachers and authority figures. During lessons, he instinctively regarded Natsume Souseki as though he were his homeroom teacher.
And if you angered your homeroom teacher… the consequences were too dreadful for any student to willingly remember.
Natsume Souseki cleared his throat. Resting both hands atop his walking stick to support his body after standing for so long, he said,
"Now then, tell me about your boyfriend's identity."
"Tell me about your boyfriend's identity."
"He's a French poet visiting Japan as a tourist. He fell in love with me, so he decided to stay."
Asou Akiya gave Randou's background without hesitation.
Natsume Souseki said indifferently, "Are you patriotic?"
Asou Akiya smiled and replied, word by word, "I am patriotic."
Natsume Souseki carefully observed his expression. The tension in his mind eased slightly; no matter what the future held, he could at least confirm in this moment that Asou Akiya did not pose a threat to the Japanese government.
"Randou-kun's true identity is not merely that of a poet. He's an Ability user trained by France, isn't he?"
Asou Akiya answered calmly, "Sensei, you're joking. He awakened his Ability here in Japan."
"Are you sure you want to lie to me?"
"Sensei, from what position are you asking me this? As a politician, a manipulator of minds, the legendary strongest Ability user in Japan? Or… merely as an open-minded teacher?"
Asou Akiya tossed the question back at him without haste.
It might be easy to forget that Natsume Souseki was a major figure with immense influence; before retirement, his position was essentially equivalent to the Japanese government itself.
Natsume Souseki chuckled softly. "If I'm asking you as a teacher, then?"
Facing that gaze sharp enough to dissect him, Asou Akiya was unusually unperturbed. Because he understood Natsume Souseki's nature—so long as national interests were not betrayed, this man was, at his core, a person with conscience. He would never eliminate a student he had half-decided to accept merely out of suspicion.
"If you're asking as a teacher—" Asou Akiya paused, the smile on his face deepening, "then please come back and ask me this question next year."
The heavy atmosphere in the hall grew even more oppressive, pressing down on Asou Akiya's heart.
It had been many years since Natsume Souseki had encountered someone like him. When you thought Asou Akiya was supremely intelligent, his everyday life revealed he still fell slightly short in many areas. Yet when you thought he was merely mediocre, he would always say something that struck with startling brilliance.
Overall, he was a talent worth cultivating, with very high potential for future advancement.
"You saw through it, huh." After being exposed, Natsume Souseki let out a tired sigh without further pretense. "So many things have happened over these past few years… I've truly been thinking about retirement."
The middle-aged man stepped down from the podium and tapped Asou Akiya on the head with his walking stick.
"But that's not a reason for you to drag things out!"
"Ow—!"
Struck in such a "friendly" manner, Asou Akiya didn't dodge at all. Instead, he took it willingly. "Mr. Natsume—no, Natsume-sensei! Ow! Stop hitting me. I'm not that smart to begin with—if you keep hitting me, I'll get even dumber! If I get knocked stupid, I won't be able to answer your questions anymore!"
Natsume Souseki, still annoyed, gave him three or four more strikes before finally withdrawing his cane. "Speak."
Asou Akiya rubbed the bump on his head. "Randou was a Frenchman in the past, but now he's Japanese! A proper Japanese nationality—his household registration was even handled by the Port Mafia."
Natsume Souseki said irritably, "He's an Ability user. The French government wouldn't just reject him. He could easily return to his country."
Asou Akiya lowered his eyelashes. "He can't go back now. Returning would be a death sentence."
Natsume Souseki froze slightly, surprised. This was different from what he had expected.
"A criminal?"
"No."
"A traitor?"
"No."
"A covert operative left behind during wartime?"
"…Yes and no."
That answer was deliberately ambiguous and uncertain. A faint, shadowed heaviness seemed to appear on Asou Akiya's face.
"He can't return. There is someone in France who wants him dead—an enemy of his. If that person knows he's still alive, they will definitely try to kill him the moment they meet. I don't have the ability to protect him, so I can only keep him here in Japan… Natsume-sensei, the fact that I love him is not a lie. Because of that, I cannot tell you everything in full."
Facing Natsume Souseki, Asou Akiya finally revealed part of the burden he had been carrying in his heart.
It was a secret even Ranpo did not know.
"Please believe me. I will not do anything that betrays the country. Randou loves me as well. You can take it as me having helped Japan retain a French-born Ability user."
"..."
Natsume Souseki organized his reasoning, unwilling to be led astray by Akiya's way of thinking.
"So what you're saying is—he poses a certain degree of risk, but is currently safe?"
"Yes."
"Can you guarantee he will stay in Japan for his entire life?"
"No."
"Then what exactly are you saying?"
"For five years. Within the next five years, he will remain in Japan with me. I will keep all risks within a controllable range. No one will be able to identify his true background or origin. No matter how you investigate, as long as you do not leak his photograph, I guarantee he will not bring any trouble to the Japanese government."
"And after five years?"
"He will either stay, or return to France, and he will not become an enemy of Japan."
After finishing his emotional appeal with Natsume Souseki, Asou Akiya gave a completely expressionless promise.
Given Arthur Rimbaud's emotional nature, that was indeed how things would unfold.
No matter how deep his hatred might be, it would not escalate into resentment toward an entire nation. Randou would only ever love or hate one person—him alone—and would develop a resistance toward involving himself with the land of this small Far Eastern country, Japan.
A top-tier Ability user who would not become an enemy of Japan?
Natsume Souseki thought to himself that if what Akiya said was true, then allowing the two of them to continue their relationship would indeed bring no real harm. At the same time, he could not see any particular benefit either. Ever since Japan signed its "peace" agreement, French Ability users were also required to follow standard procedures; just how much of a threat could one individual realistically pose to the Japanese government?
Natsume Souseki felt something stuck in his throat, leaving him deeply uncomfortable.
"So you're admitting you noticed there's something suspicious about his identity, and you're still seeing him?"
"You're just being lustful!"
Asou Akiya declared boldly, "If a man isn't lustful, can he still be considered a man?"
Natsume Souseki said with exasperation, "There are so many outstanding men in Japan—why must you set your sights on a foreigner?"
Asou Akiya looked around. "Where?"
A mischievous spark surfaced in Natsume Souseki's usually composed demeanor as he gave an example. "Fukuzawa?"
Asou Akiya replied with a grin, "I prefer someone more challenging—and a bit more open-minded."
Sorry, but he had already filtered through characters of similar age in the original story; among Japanese men who matched both his aesthetic preference and taste, there was only Mori Ogai. Fukuzawa Yukichi was not even within his consideration. He tended to keep a respectful distance from overly serious men, believing they were the type one should not attempt to scheme against—otherwise, they might very well break his legs.
Natsume Souseki's walking stick struck him on the head again with lightning speed.
"You've exposed yourself! You're just looking for thrills!"
"Regarding France, I won't easily give up the investigation, but I will not leak his photograph," Natsume Souseki warned. "You'd better not be lying. If I discover that he has serious problems, you can expect the Agency of Special Intelligence to come knocking at your door."
Asou Akiya, eyes stinging with pain, replied tearfully, "Go ahead and investigate. He definitely has no problems."
If they did investigate and find anything, Japan might even end up issuing them a marriage certificate.
Natsume Souseki acknowledged his stance. "I'll ask you again next year. You can go now."
It was already so late, yet Natsume Souseki still could not leave work; he still had to go and handle the aftermath.
Just before he left, Asou Akiya suddenly asked him a question.
"Teacher."
"What is it?"
"Do I have any senior or junior disciples?"
"No, and you still haven't finished what I assigned you, so don't get too pleased with yourself."
Natsume Souseki had intended to apply some pressure on him—but instead, he saw Asou Akiya break into laughter. He looked like a fox that had just stolen a fish, sitting there covering his mouth, the corners of his eyes carrying an unmistakable smugness.
Asou Akiya felt like laughing up at the sky.
Senior disciple!
So he was the eldest senior disciple!
Fukuzawa Yukichi and Mori Ogai were practically going to end up as his junior disciples!