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It was too loud.
Realistically, it wasn’t. No one was actually talking particularly loudly—the loudest conversation was Dazai and Kunikida bickering on the opposite side of the room about Dazai not doing any work. And then there was the gentle click click click from someone’s computer keyboard, or maybe multiple. As well as the whoosh of the passing cars and outside traffic. And Kenji kept tap tap tapping his foot against the floor as he hummed to himself while he worked. Yosano was sanitizing her medical tools, as well, and they kept scraping against each other. And the clock—it wouldn’t stop! Tick, tick, tick.
He wanted it to stop.
Tap tap tap .
He needed everything to be quiet, it was too loud.
Whoosh.
Too loud!
Scrape.
Ranpo clapped his hands over his ears and squeezed his eyes shut. Too loud! he thought as he sunk down and crawled under his desk.
Some days, it was too much. He was exhausted and overwhelmed, and all of that got to him to a point where he was overstimulated. He couldn’t focus on anything but the fact that it felt like his brain and skin were being prodded at. He was tumbling and everything was thrown at him. He wanted to scream, he wanted to cry. He didn’t know how to make it stop.
Even from under the desk, it was still too much. He needed to get out from the room entirely.
Quickly, he pushed himself from under the desk and walked right out of the room and down the hall, not stopping or announcing why.
Atsushi lifted his head, noticing the slight commotion as Ranpo had shoved his chair away from his desk to get out.
“Uh,” he started as he watched in concern as Ranpo hurried out of the room with his head down. But before he could ask any further, he saw Kunikida and Yosano both look up at him, Yosano putting a hand up to keep him from continuing.
“Let him go, it’s alright.”
Her and Kunikida had seen plenty of these meltdowns, and they understood what he wanted in this moment.
What else was more comforting than a quiet place, something to snack on, and a loving father?
-
Fukuzawa looked up with soft eyes as his office door swung open fast. A teary-eyed boy stood in his office, holding back a hiccup of sobs.
“Ranpo?” he asked gently.
“Loud,” was the only quiet, harsh response. So quiet, he could barely understand.
“I’m sorry?”
“It’s loud! There’s too many noises, and- and I can’t- I can’t think , I can’t do this! It’s too much! It’s too much! It’s—“
Fukuzawa was out of his seat in an instant, hurrying to Ranpo’s side. He placed his hands firmly, but gently, on his shoulders as Ranpo finally allowed himself to break, his body trembling as he sobbed.
“Okay, that’s okay,” Fukuzawa said gently, his jaw tensing in worry.
He’d never done this. He’s never had someone to take care of before—not like this anyways. He was… well, there was no other way of saying it, he was a father to this boy now. He needed to comfort him. He needed to make him feel safe.
It was clearly overwhelming for him. It’s a new building, a new (and intense) line of work, and new co-workers. They were few to start, but they were also young and learning. Plus, Ranpo had a hard time adjusting to new environments, and tended to lash out when he didn’t understand.
Fukuzawa noticed this, of course he did. And he wanted to do everything in his power to help him.
“Here,” he said, moving away from Ranpo and heading to his desk. He opened a drawer and fished out a few hard candies leftover from a pack he’d bought when Ranpo asked. “Do you want some of these?”
The young boy looked up through his tears, and squinted at the hand offering three pieces of sweets. He nodded harshly and reached out quickly to grab them before he started curling in on himself.
Fukuzawa looked around for a moment before he spotted an old, cushioned stool—one that was left behind in the building when they bought it that they’d yet to get rid of. It was maybe a couple of feet off the ground and had a plush seat. Perfect, Fukuzawa decided, bringing it to a little corner, farthest from the window, then made his way back to Ranpo.
“Hey,” he said softly. Ranpo looked up as he sniffled. “How about you sit in here for as long as you like? The corner over there is quiet, and I have some books you can read on the shelf next to you.”
“I…” Ranpo hiccuped as he looked over to the corner. He wanted to scream and yell and fight, but it genuinely was a helpful offer, and he felt his body deflate a little with exhaustion. “Those books look boring,” he murmured.
Fukuzawa chuckled, “Well, you can see how long it takes until you figure out the end, and time yourself. Maybe you’ll get a record.”
Ranpo nodded softly, squeezing the candy in his hand as he shuffled to the stool and sat down, tucking himself in the corner.
He stayed there for hours, first just sucking on a hard candy as he calmed himself down, rocking a bit and fidgeting. Eventually, he browsed the books—mostly boring, but there were a few he got a bit further into.
After a while, he was relaxed in the corner as Fukuzawa worked quietly. He was calm and content, and all of his senses finally felt like they’d returned to normal.
“Are you feeling hungry at all?” a voice broke through the comfortable quiet. Ranpo looked up at Fukuzawa, and the man continued as he stood from his desk. “How about we go out and get food somewhere? We can take everyone else if you’d like.”
Ranpo stared up at him. He was so grateful for someone to take care of him, for a safe environment, for a family.
He stood very suddenly, rushing to Fukuzawa and grabbing onto him. He held him in a tight hug, burying his face in the fabric of his clothes.
“Thank you,” came the boy’s muffled voice.
Fukuzawa blinked down at him, smiling softly as his chest swelled. He’s 32 and, frankly, has never had any intention on a family life. But in this moment, he was the proudest father in the world.
He gently pats the top of Ranpo’s head as he chuckles, “Of course. I’m very proud of you, kid.”
-
Fukuzawa looked up with soft eyes as his office door swung open fast. A teary-eyed young man stood in his office, holding back a hiccup of sobs.
“Ranpo?”
“Loud.”
Fukuzawa nodded gently, and gestured to the corner. A beanbag chair was tucked away in the corner farthest from the window, next to a bookshelf with a variety of books, and a little glass jar of hard candies.
“Stay as long as you like,” he said with a gentle smile. “And I’ll be here when you need a hug, too.”