“We will now be having a fifteen-minute intermission. Part two will begin at six twenty.”
A broadcast sounded throughout the entire theater.
Fukuzawa thought back to the program. He’d almost forgotten there was going to be a break in the middle of the show.
Shadowy figures began standing and chatting.
“Come with me.”
Fukuzawa took Ranpo’s hand, but Ranpo was in a foul mood and looked away without even budging.
“Now!”
After forcing Ranpo out of his seat, Fukuzawa dragged him out of the auditorium.
They walked over to a few square seats in the lobby away from the crowd. Ranpo was sitting, albeit sulking, while Fukuzawa was standing right in front of him. Ranpo was fidgeting with his sleeves, so upset he couldn’t sit still. Fukuzawa watched him without saying a word. Before long, five minutes of unchanging silence had passed.
“Okay,” muttered Ranpo as if he couldn’t take the silence any longer. “Get it over with. Give me your lecture. I’ve been chewed out like this by tons of people at my past jobs, so I know it’s coming. I know what you’re going to say, too.”
“You’re surprisingly self-aware,” noted Fukuzawa, his voice low.
“I’m gonna be scolded because I did something wrong, right? If so, then it’d actually make me feel a little better. It’s an easy concept to grasp.”
“…You’re right.”
Fukuzawa pondered. He wasn’t a person who could teach something to this kid. He had always avoided giving guidance to others his entire life. This was the first time he ever regretted that. Fukuzawa had to tell him something. This teenager was at the edge of the cliff, leaning forward.
“Tell me about your parents.” Fukuzawa made sure to select his words wisely. “Did they say anything about your gift?”
“My ‘gift’?” Ranpo furrowed his brow. “I wouldn’t be having trouble finding a job right now if I had a gift.”
“Then… Did they say anything to you about your future?”
“Uh… My father always said, ‘One day, you’re going to surpass your mother and me, and you’re going to win the admiration of all those around you. But now’s not that time. Stay humble and keep your silence. Always be modest. Just quietly observe and don’t hurt others with what you discover.’ …Or something like that. I don’t really know what he meant, though.”
I figured.
Fukuzawa quietly nodded.
So his father knew, after all. He understood that Ranpo possessed an extraordinary gift. He knew his son had the special ability to observe, remember, and uncover the truth in the blink of an eye. That was why he sealed it away. He didn’t want Ranpo to go astray, to ever hurt others and make the world his enemy. His father wanted Ranpo to learn virtue and what’s right just like any ordinary person until he had grown up with good judgment and knowledge.
He was protecting him, creating a transparent cocoon to protect
his extraordinary gift from this strange world. Ranpo’s parents raised him like an ordinary child. What an astounding deed that must have been. How difficult it must have been to convince him that the world he saw was normal and nothing he knew was anything other than common sense. But Ranpo’s parents did that with their extraordinary minds. What was such a feat, if not unconditional love? But long before Ranpo had fully matured—far before Ranpo was ready for the world—they departed this life. An immature yet gifted larva was stripped of his cocoon and abandoned.
The palms of Fukuzawa’s clenched fists began to sweat. No matter how strong his opponent was, he never experienced fear like this. The larva was without shelter. He was only moments away from being crushed by the outside world. If Fukuzawa didn’t use just the right amount of force, then the damage would be irreparable. While hesitant, Fukuzawa finally spoke up.
“You…have a gift. A gift to observe and deduce. Nobody has ever figured out my past job. Nobody knew who really killed the president of that company other than you. You’re special, Ranpo, and if you so desire, you will become a greater mind than even your parents.”
“As if.” Ranpo immediately shot down the claim. “My parents were amazing. There’s no surpassing them to reach the top because they were the top. Neither of them ever told me once that I had a gift, and I believe them.”
He was stubborn. The protective wall his parents created was thick. That wall protected Ranpo from a world of ordinary people who would fear and fail to understand him, yes, but it was also what rendered him unable to step into the outside world.
“During the play, you were able to guess who the killer was,” Fukuzawa continued. “And at that point in the performance, you were probably the only one in the audience who had. I myself didn’t know until I finished the script.”
“Huh?” Ranpo gave a distinctly inquiring look. “Don’t lie to me. If I figured it out, surely an adult would have no problem.”
The discussion was going in circles. He didn’t understand others because he didn’t think he was special. He didn’t think he was special because he didn’t understand others, which only confirmed what his parents had told him. It was unyielding logic that fed off each other, and the only way to break through was to shine light on something completely new.