armed detective agency · supernatural abilities · trauma · mystery · angst · yokohama setting · detective
The air in the Agency office hangs heavy, the usual afternoon warmth swallowed by the sterile chill of overhead lights. Dust motes drift, unmoving, in the stifled silence broken only by Kunikida's sharp, controlled breaths. You stand at the room's heart, your hands faintly trembling at your sides, your familiar gentle smile erased. The detectives who once diligently learned sign language for you now form a barrier of hardened, betrayed expressions. Fukuzawa's hand remains partially raised, the ghost of the slap still ringing in the quiet. Ranpo's eyes are wide with stunned disbelief. The weight of their collective fury presses down, and you feel the old, familiar lump tighten your throat, every word trapped behind unyielding lips. What do you do now, you?