“Good work today.” Fukuzawa got out of his seat. “I’ll inform the police that you were the one who solved the case. I’ll also recommend you get compensation. If all goes well, you might even be able to slip your way into the police force… I know losing your parents is hard, but I’m sure you’ll manage to find somewhere you can succeed. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”
Ranpo suddenly grabbed Fukuzawa’s wrist as he went for the check.
“…What?” Fukuzawa looked at Ranpo, who motionlessly looked right back at him.
“…That’s it?” Ranpo asked.
“What?”
“That’s it?” he repeated. “Isn’t there, like…you know? Something a little more tangible? Don’t you get, like…a lump in your throat when you see a wayward fourteen-year-old boy who lost his parents, is jobless, and has nowhere to go?”
Fukuzawa looked at Ranpo. Then he stared at the café table. From there, his eyes wandered to the nine bowls lined up on top.
“I sure do,” admitted Fukuzawa. “I still can’t believe you ate nine bowls of nothing but soupy red beans.”
“Oh, this was nothing,” Ranpo said boastfully, then almost immediately shook his head. “Wait! That’s not what I’m talking about! I’m talking about mutual aid—the spirit of helping one another! You can’t take connections like this for granted… Wait. Taken for ‘granite’? ‘Granted’? Uh…”
“‘Granted,’” Fukuzawa replied. “You’re right. Nine bowls of red bean porridge isn’t enough to help a boy in trouble. Here. Take this.”
Fukuzawa pulled a white business card out from his coat.
“What’s this?” Ranpo looked back and forth between the business card on the table and Fukuzawa.
“It’s my contact information. I somehow ended up becoming something like a bodyguard after helping out a few people whose lives were in danger. Get in touch with me if you’re ever in serious trouble. First job’s on me,” Fukuzawa said while inwardly sighing at himself.
I’m too soft. Even though I try so hard to avoid getting involved with others, I can’t stop myself from doing things like this. I want to be alone, but I can’t even kick a troubled boy to the curb. It’s true that I do owe him, but…
Ranpo quietly accepted the business card. Then, after bringing it close to his face and giving it a hard stare, he muttered “Hmm” to himself before heading toward the back of the café. He put some change into the pay phone, then began to dial the rotary. Fukuzawa heard something ring in his pocket—his work phone. He always carried it with him in case there was an emergency job offer. Fukuzawa had a bad feeling about this, but he placed the phone to his ear anyway.
“Please help me, Mr. Bodyguard, sir. I don’t have a job, and I’ve got no place to stay tonight. I’m going to die.”
Fukuzawa listened to Ranpo’s monotone through the receiver. He could also hear him from the other side of the café.
“……”
“I’ll die?” Ranpo repeated.
Why did he make that sound like a question?
“…Very well. I know a hotel that—”
“I don’t have a job, and I’m going to die.”
Ranpo cut Fukuzawa off midsentence. He held the pay phone with his back turned to Fukuzawa, making sure to avoid any eye contact.
Saying Fukuzawa was reluctant would have been an understatement. He imagined himself being swallowed by inescapable quicksand.
There was no work for a boy in the bodyguard profession. No need for clerical work or assistants, either. More importantly, what would anyone use this uncontrollable kid for even if they did hire him?
There was silence on the other side of the line. He was waiting for an answer. Perhaps someone other than Fukuzawa would have been able to come up with a sort of compromise. However, Fukuzawa didn’t want a boss or coworker. He didn’t trust organizations or other people. Even if that weren’t the case, talking to this kid tired him like nothing else. The best thing he could do for himself would be to rush out of the café and forget all about it.
“Then…come with me on my next job,” Fukuzawa said into the speaker. “I can’t help you, but my client was looking to hire someone. I’ll mediate. How does that sound?”
“Really?!”
Ranpo’s eyes lit up as he turned around. He looked at Fukuzawa and grinned ear to ear, receiver still in hand. Fukuzawa let out a brief sigh.
Neither a feeling of indebtedness nor an interest in Ranpo’s talents had anything to do with this. He was a stranger, after all. Fukuzawa just couldn’t ignore someone drowning in solitude before his very eyes. Ranpo was all alone. After losing his parents, he was thrown into a confusing world to wander without a path. He had no one to turn to and nowhere to go. He was merely surviving, existing.