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The birds sang, the sun shined bright- It was a beautiful day to be alive.
No, bad Atsushi. He had to keep focus.
Ranpo had put a pink post-it note on his desk before he left. He was chosen for a sacred duty, Atsushi had to keep focus.
The world spun around- the stars shined brightest-
Being a long time bibliophile, Atsushi felt like swooning. Maybe he already was.
Okay, someone had dropped off a perfectly preserved antique first edition collection of fairy tales written in Dovah Tinvaak. It was a beautiful book bound in fine charcoal-denim stained leather and inset with decorative vermeil leaf embellishments on the front and spine.
Atsushi was absolutely drooling. Keep focus…
Books upon books were Atsushi’s only friends during his time isolated in the Orphanage. Now, at eighteen years of life, Atsushi could fluently read in countless languages. He still remembered the countless nights going through dictionary upon dictionary, translating any and every language to Japanese, just so he could read more books.
Atsushi had first learned of the language back in the orphanage, it was one of the language dictionaries that Atsushi had memorized back to back. The language just stuck with him. Atsushi made heart eyes at the book.
Of course, the Dovahzul dictionary back at the orphanage translated into Latin. It had been a fun challenge for ten-year-old Atsushi and there was something about old languages. He was so utterly in love. Unfortunately, the gorgeous book was currently located in a Yokohama Police Department evidence bag situated on Kunikida’s desk.
Then the blonde himself came back into the office.
“We’re going to need to call a translator to come here. The older gentleman does not speak Japanese, nor English.”
Trailing behind Kunikida, Dazai added, “He doesn't know French or Russian either.”
Atsushi wiped off the bit of drool with his glove. He was still making moon eyes at the bagged book as he connected the dots from the overheard conversation. They must have left this gentleman in the hall. Atsushi visibly paused, silently willing away the tiger ears that popped out.
The sacred duty Ranpo bestowed upon him could wait for a few minutes. The cowardly were-tiger found courage in language. The teen with white hair found something that helped him cope with his social anxiety, which made his demeanor so mild every day.
It was the opportunity to talk to possibly one of the last native speakers of the Dovahzul language.
Sneaky, so sneakily, Atsushi slipped out of the office, going down the hallway where Kunikida and Dazai most likely left the gentleman. There he was, an older man with lonely eyes, sitting on the bench outside the office, staring through the windows. Atsushi continued to charge through, not giving his anxiety a moment to make him falter.
“Dreh hi tinvaak Dovahzul?” (Do you speak Dovahzul?)
The older gentleman took a moment, the surprise on his face was evident to Atsushi and the boy couldn’t blame him, it was a near dead language.
Atsushi abruptly realized how all of this might look to the stranger. The white haired teen had popped up all of a sudden after two detectives spoke languages at him to no avail.
The were-tiger bowed, “Krosis fah... sahlo Dovahzul. Zu'u los Nakajima Atsushi, Zu'u los do Fin Kendov Bex-Miin Ahmik ahrk zu'u nonvul hin gro-tey ahrk zu'u lost laan fod Zu'u aan no pogaan mindol…” (Ah, apologies for my… poor Dovahzul. My name is Atsushi Nakajima, I am part of the Armed Detective Agency and I saw your book, and I was wondering if I could ask a few things…)
Maybe he started off too strongly. Whoopsie daisy. Atsushi felt every second as the moment of silence dragged on. Something like embarrassment building inside him.
“Zu'u dreh, hi laan?” (I do, what are you wondering?)
“Zu'u laan…” Atsushi sheepishly started, building back up his courage, “Hi fun zu'u osos do fin Dovahkiin Paz tey?”
(I was wondering… Could you tell me some more about Dovahkiin tales?)
The white haired boy realized that he had asked the right question when he noticed how bright the older man’s eyes had gotten when Atsushi finished asking his request. The older man gripped his cane and with one hand patted the bench seat next to himself.
It was great to learn more about the language that helped him through his childhood, even just a bit. Atsushi and the man with lonely eyes sat there just talking to each other. The white haired teen enjoyed every moment of that conversation.
Speaking a dead language in a modern world.
—-------
Kyouka noticed the doodle of a lollipop was on Atsushi’s desk. Ranpo had him go on a snack run. Which made her wonder what the two should get for lunch when Kyouka remembered seeing the White haired teen in the hallway. Hm, coffee with crepes? No, Kyouka was not feeling crepes, maybe smoked tofu?
Kyouka signed her last report for the morning.
“Yes, thank you,” The girl looked up at Kunikida sigh as soon as he got the phone with the police, “The Office of Language Services is willing to lend us an interpreter,”
“But we don’t even know what language the gentleman speaks,” Dazai interrupted from the couch, “Maybe he speaks Dwarven, he could speak with the Chibi!”
Kunikida looked like he wanted to throw one of his spare pens at Dazai, if Kyoula was not handing him her report to file. Somewhere, someway, the ginger half of Double Black was valiantly attempting to psychically clobber the brunette other half, Kyouka could feel it in her soul.
“We are not asking a Port Mafia Executive to come over for something like this!”
Kunikida shook his head, took out his notebook and started vigorously scratching something down. Kyouka wondered what he wrote about other than ideals and schedules. Perhaps his murder plans. Or lunch plans.
Kyouka flipped open her phone.
Direct Message: Kyouka ↦ Atsushi
Kyouka: While you are getting Ranpo’s order, can you pick up some Let's Be coffee as well? ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ
Atsushi: Okie dokie, (⌒ー⌒)b
Atsushi: I will be back soon
Kyouka: Stay safe ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ
Atsushi: You too!
Dazai waved a bandaged arm in the air, “Why don’t we have Atsushi-kun pick up the local translator?”
There was a moment of silence. The two were expecting Atsushi to add something. But Atsushi was not in the room. And hadn’t been for over two hours.
“Where is Atsushi-kun?”
“He was talking with a man in the hall.” Kyouka answered, still thinking about lunch. She had been told once that exploring new things was good. Maybe Kyouka should order something new from the Uzumaki café.
“... What? ”
Oh, the two didn’t notice. Kyouka guessed she would have to ask Lucy what she recommended later.
—-------
One bag of sour candy, one bag of savoury candy, two bags of sweet tasting candy, Atsushi mentally tallied, and one can of Let’s Be coffee.
“How did you know what language he spoke?!”
Atsushi startled with a blink at the sudden shout, awkwardly shuffling the bags of candy in his arms.
He quickly slung the bags onto Ranpo’s desk, slapping the pink post-it note on top of the large heap. Kunikida looked half manic and his glasses were nearly falling off his face. Ah, Atsushi felt mild pity. Dazai must have been messing with his notebooks again.
“We’ve been trying most of the morning to figure it out, only for our little weretiger to start up a conversation effortlessly~” Dazai leaned over, poking the white haired teen in the cheek as Atsushi gave Kyouka the coffee she requested.
His little linguistic quirks were exposed.
Atsushi flushed. Well, this was kind of embarrassing.
Atsushi gestured to the book still on Kunikida’s desk, “The book is written in Dovah Tinvaak, the spoken language is called Dovahzul- translated it means Dragon Speak.”
“Dragon Speak?”
“Yeah, it's pretty old and considered a dead language.”
“Then how do you know the language?”
Atsushi felt a bit shy about his little interests being known. Not that it was one of his darkest secrets. Just a deeply private pastime that was one of the few enjoyments the white-haired teen had in his childhood.
Dazai put his hands on Atsushi’s shoulders, staring into his ametrine eyes with a near comical seriousness.
“Say Atsushi-kun… How do you say ‘Will you commit suicide with me’ in this Dragon Speak?”
“I- I feel like telling you would be a bad idea.”
Dazai pouted as Kunikida came from behind the brunette, wrestling him away.
Besides, Atsushi thought, Dovakiin are a nearly extinct culture. It was by pure luck and a bit of chance that the older gentleman from before was in Japan at all.
The only other people Dazai would be able to flirt with would be well over forty years old. Dazai had told him that he was not interested in men, so a man who was at the age to be his great grandfather was probably off the table for flirting with.
Atsushi was mildly impressed with Kunikida's restraint. The blonde had only choked Dazai out a little before letting the brunette reclaim his spot on the couch with a flop. Coughing slightly into his fist to get everyone back on topic, Kunikida stared at Atsushi with askance in his eyes for the white haired teen to continue explaining how he knew the foreign language.
“I recognized the style of the cover first, then saw the language. This is,” Atsushi grabbed the plastic covered book, staring at the cover for a moment before showing it to the others in the room, “An old book of fairy tales. The orphanage had a few books like this.”
“Fairy tales?” Kyouka asked. She leaned into Atsushi’s arm to get a better look. “Could you translate some of the stories out loud?”
Atsushi turned to her with a small smile, showing her the cover of the book. The white-haired teen felt really happy, sharing his love for literary language and with the people closest to him. Atsushi felt his tail appear going up right and wagging. Both Atsushi and Byakko felt content to the soul.
“Of course!”
“I will cancel the interpreter then.” Kunikida sighed again.
The blonde man pulled out his phone and walked into a spare room.
“A white tiger that can shred the fabric of reality speaks the language of dragons,” Dazai hummed, tilting his head back to stare at the ceiling, “How fitting.”