Osamu Dazai

None of it made sense.
Ranpo was away on 'sick leave', but Dazai had already notified the President of his train ticket to Okinawa.
Right now, Dazai was in the passenger seat of a car being driven by Kunikida, with Kaji and Atsushi in the back.
Ranpo would've been able to solve the case instantly.
Four Guild members dead, one left barely clinging to life with a bomb strapped to their chest.
Why?
What was the motive?
"Well, see, Kunikida, I believe it was entirely an accident. Maybe the person had a change of heart--" Kaji suggested, cut short by three pairs of disbelieving eyes.
"People who do things like that don't have changes of heart, let alone a heart at all." Kunikida grumbled, fingers drumming against the steering wheel.
They were at a red light when a low, smooth hum of a bike engine sidled up to their right. Dazai recognised the sound of the bike before he even saw it, and let out a slow exhale.
"I believe I know who did it." Dazai said to nobody in particular, his eyes fixed on the familiar, vibrant red Ducati next to them.

Chuuya wasn't wearing a helmet.
Why would he be?
He always liked to be reckless. Stupid. But this was a new stupid, even for him.
Eyes met.
Chuuya gave a lazy salute, a smirk playing his lips, before he revved the engine with one gloved hand and took off.

"After the bike. Now." Dazai grit his teeth.