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i. akutagawa gin (& tachihara michizou)
Ryuu has been acting strange lately.
Over the course of the past few months, he’s been steadily growing happier. He snaps less at his subordinates, he doesn’t complain when it’s his turn to go grocery shopping, and Gin even saw him smiling at his phone the other day. Objectively, of course, these changes are all good. It makes Ryuu a hell of a lot easier to live with, and Gin doesn’t want to be the one to look a gift horse in the mouth.
But they also need to know the reason for this sudden change in behavior. Because they’re not stupid enough to believe Ryuu just woke up one day and decided to be a nicer person.
Which brings them to where they are now, creeping around Yokohama, following Ryuu to wherever it is he’s headed on his day off. Gin was given today off as well, though their break is because they’re expected to report for a mission this evening—they should be spending the day sleeping and preparing.
They can regret their decision to skip out on sleep tomorrow morning. Right now, they’re determined to crack the mystery that is their brother’s newfound ability to smile.
They follow him to a convenience store, then to a café. He doesn’t spend long in either place, and emerges from each with only a single bag. From there, he makes his way to the park, which is the first thing that seems especially strange. Ryuu has a distaste for both sunlight and public places where people gather.
Gin watches from afar as he makes his way to a corner shaded by trees, where only one other person sits on a picnic blanket. They half-expect him to scare the other person away with Rashoumon
Instead, he sits down and starts unpacking his bags.
Gin blinks, then rubs their eyes, wondering if maybe they’re hallucinating. Last they checked, the only person Ryuu ever voluntarily spends time with outside of work is Gin themself, and that’s because they’re siblings.
What the hell is going on?!
With all the grace and tactic of a skilled assassin, Gin scales the nearest tree and maneuvers through the branches until they can get a better view of their brother. Only once they’re looking down do they realize the person Ryuu is with is none other than the Agency’s weretiger.
Gin was aware the two have begun working together more often on missions; they listened to Ryuu complain about this new development until they were sure their ears would start bleeding if they had to hear one more jab towards “that foolish weretiger,” about how he can’t do a single thing right or how much Ryuu loathes him or how he doesn’t know anything about how the world works.
But here they are. Ryuu and the weretiger. Having a picnic.
Ryuu bought sandwiches from the café and drinks and chips from the convenience store. The chips seem to be for the weretiger alone (and God, for all they’ve heard about him, Gin doesn’t even know the kid’s actual name), because it’s a small bag and not a flavor Ryuu eats. That doesn’t stop the weretiger from holding out the open bag towards Ryuu, clearly offering him one. Ryuu shakes his head, apparently politely declining the offer.
Maybe Ryuu got hit by a body-swapping ability or something, because Gin might as well be watching a completely different person. Maybe some centuries-old spirit has possessed their brother, and is now using his body to woo the weretiger.
Gin scrunches their nose in disgust. They highly doubt Ryuu could ever successfully woo anyone, because he doesn’t know the first thing about expressing his emotions. If he were to ever develop a crush on anyone, Gin can only imagine he’d cope by trying to kill them—
Oh.
Well…
Now that they think about it, somewhere along the way, Ryuu’s hatred towards the weretiger did turn into something more along the lines of a weird obsession—there was less, “The next time I see him, I will skin him alive and feed his liver to the birds,” and more, “If he continues to doubt his strength, he will never become a formidable opponent.”
…Okay. So. Maybe Gin could have seen this coming. Maybe this does make sense and their brother has not been replaced by a doppelgänger. Maybe the most surprising thing is that the weretiger managed to see through Ryuu’s bloodlust and apathy, and find his true feelings hidden under layers of Rashoumon-esque armor.
Or, maybe the weretiger just has especially bad taste in men.
Gin shakes their head, clearing their mind. It’s evident, now, why Ryuu has been acting the way he has. Somehow, by some miracle, he’s managed to turn his aggressive obsessive crush into something that resembles a normal relationship. With texting and picnics in the park and buying things for the other. They’re only slightly jealous that Ryuu managed to slash and bite his way into a relationship before they gathered the courage to confess to Higuchi, but they’ll try to push that aside in favor of being happy for their brother.
Speaking of— Now that they have their answer, they should probably leave.
They spare one final glance towards their brother and the weretiger, still shocked at just how content Ryuu looks. They aren’t sure they’ve ever seen him so happy, but this could be a nice change.
So long as the weretiger doesn’t break his heart. Maybe Gin’s next personal mission needs to be giving him a shovel talk.
They slip away unnoticed, returning home so they can eat and hopefully get a little sleep before it’s time to report to headquarters.
— —
It’s past two in the morning when Gin returns home, face blossoming with bruises and Tachihara stumbling behind them. They unlock the door silently, ushering Tachihara inside with a finger pressed to their lips. Ryuu should be asleep at this hour, and Gin is loath to wake him given his inability to sleep through the night.
Turns out, it doesn’t matter. There’s a lamp on in the living room, providing just enough light for Ryuu to read on the couch.
He glances up briefly at the sound of the door opening. He nods a greeting, then returns his gaze to the book in his hands.
Gin unhooks their mask from their ears and shoves it into their pocket. They take Tachihara’s wrist in one hand, dragging him past Ryuu and back towards the bathroom so they can get cleaned up. None of their injuries are bad enough to warrant concern, but the last thing they need is for a small scratch to get infected.
“Tachi’s staying the night,” they inform their brother as they pass. “In case you didn’t look up from your boring-ass novel long enough to realize he’s here.”
Ryuu waves vaguely. “I saw. This was a recommendation from the weretiger; I must prove its inferiority to my typical taste in books.”
Gin pauses. There are so many things they could say to that. He’s practically begging them to unleash the taunting they’ve been bottling up all day.
Lucky for him, they’re also exhausted. So all they say is, “Can you prove your superiority to the weretiger by actually getting some sleep for once?” and then continue back to their bathroom.
“...What was that all about?” Tachihara asks as Gin drops his hand in favor of digging the first-aid supplies out of the cabinets.
“Don’t ask,” they grumble.
“Isn’t the weretiger—?”
“Tachihara.”
“Right. Shutting up now.”
Gin glances up at him, just in time to see the dawning horror cross his face as he puts two and two together. For as stupid oblivious as he pretends to be, he actually does have a few brain cells. Which are apparently actually being put to use right now.
“Oh,” he mumbles.
Gin stifles a laugh. Watching other people Realize is never going to get old, they decide. And how lucky they are that they know first.
ii. edogawa ranpo
Ranpo is very rudely interrupted from reading the latest manuscript Poe gave him when Yosano plucks it from his hands and tells him, “We’re going down to the café for lunch.”
“Hey!” Ranpo complains. “Give me that back!” He lunges for the book, but regretfully, Yosano has a height advantage over him. She holds it up over her head, grinning maliciously. Ranpo has half a mind to just climb on top of his desk or tackle her or something—he’s already figured out the murderer, of course, but Poe is teaching him that the means are just as important as the ends in a good story, and Ranpo is about to get to the best part—but he’d also like to keep at least a shred of his dignity here.
“You can finish after lunch,” Yosano tells him firmly. There’s no winning this fight, then.
Ranpo slumps in his seat.
“Can’t I read and eat?”
Yosano raises an eyebrow. “Do you want to get food on Poe-san’s book?”
“I’ll be careful!”
“No, you won’t. Now come on.” She grabs him by the arm and pulls him up. “Kunikida, Tanizaki-kun, and Kenji-kun are already downstairs.” She tosses the book back onto Ranpo’s desk, then drags him away before he has a chance to even grab for it.
“What about the others? Are you not manhandling them downstairs against their will just so they can ‘eat lunch’.”
Yosano gives him an unimpressed look.
Ranpo clicks his tongue.
“Atsushi-kun left about ten minutes ago, and Kyouka-chan made Dazai take her to get crepes.”
Ranpo frowns to himself as he allows Yosano to pull him along behind her. Atsushi’s been going away for lunch an awful lot recently, which Ranpo only notes as odd because the kid seems to enjoy his routine almost as much as Kunikida loves his schedules. Ranpo could psychoanalyze that and point out how Atsushi’s desire for routine comes from the fact that in his mind, such a thing goes along with a steady, normal, life, which he was never afforded growing up. Meanwhile, Kunikida’s obsessions just stem from his OCD, which he refuses to admit he has because he doesn’t have any place to squeeze a diagnosis into his schedule.
But Ranpo won’t say anything about that, because Yosano would get mad at him.
As promised, Kunikida, Tanizaki, and Kenji are all already seated at a table, and Lucy is handing out their drinks.
She bows her head when she sees them approach. “What can I get you two?”
Yosano rattles off her order, then turns to Ranpo, who huffs, still bitter that he was pulled away from his self-appointed silent reading time.
“Hot chocolate with extra chocolate syrup.”
“And?” Yosano prompts.
Ranpo glares at her. Just because she was successful in bringing him down here doesn’t mean he’s going to make this easy on her.
Unfortunately, Yosano isn’t put off in the slightest and simply orders a sandwich for him. And as soon as Lucy walks away, she threatens to hide Poe’s novel from him if he doesn’t eat it.
“You’re so overbearing,” he whines, sliding into the booth. Tanizaki and Kenji are seated on the opposite side, and Kunikida has pulled a chair up to the end of the table, which leaves Ranpo stuck next to Yosano. Normally, he would prefer this arrangement. Right now, he’s feeling petty enough that he almost asks to swap seats with one of the boys.
Unfortunately, before he can even open his mouth, Kenji blurts out, “Ranpo-san, do you know where Atsushi-san is?”
He smiles brightly, and suddenly several things click in Ranpo’s mind. Yosano’s determination to bring him down here, Kyouka dragging Dazai away from the office for crepes, the fact that everyone else is actually eating lunch together when typically, their lunch breaks are staggered.
Ranpo leans back in his seat. “Nope!”
“But—”
“He’s eating lunch, I presume. Even you all should be able to figure that out. He can’t go too far, since our lunch breaks are only an hour and he always returns on time. Assuming he’s walking at normal speed and not tiger speed, he’s probably at a restaurant within a two-kilometer radius.” He pulls his emergency lollipop from his pocket, since Yosano didn’t give him a chance to grab any of his snacks before coming down here.
But before he can unwrap it, Yosano swipes it away.
“Hey! Why do you keep stealing my stuff!”
“You’re sure he’s just eating somewhere else?” Yosano questions.
Ranpo cracks his eyes open, allowing his gaze to sweep across the four curious faces staring at him. They’re worried about Atsushi, he realizes—so they have picked up on the adjustments to his typical routine. Maybe they aren’t as hopeless as they seem.
Kenji was the one to ask, but there’s no way he came up with this plan. It must have been Tanizaki or Kunikida who originally voiced concern, and then Yosano who assured them she could get Ranpo to deduce whether or not they should fear for Atsushi’s safety. And of course, they all at least had enough sense to get Dazai out of the picture, because he’s a wild card in a situation like this. He may already know the reasoning behind Atsushi’s lunchtime disappearances, but there’s no guarantee he’d tell the truth. And if he has any reason to cover for Atsushi, he’ll derail the conversation until nothing is accomplished. Best to remove him entirely.
Ranpo can respect their planning and dedication, at least.
“If you want me to use Ultra Deduction to determine his whereabouts,” he drawls, “you’ll have to make it worth my while.”
Immediately, there are four bottles of Ramune on the table in front of him.
Ranpo grins. How thoughtful. But the Ramune alone isn’t going to be enough today. “I also want assurance that I can finish reading without any more interruptions.”
Everyone’s gazes shift, falling on Kunikida.
He pulls his notebook from seemingly nowhere and begins flipping through the pages. Then, procures a pen and begins scribbling. After a few moments of grumbling to himself, he snaps his notebook shut. “If there’s a case that requires your Ability, we will have no choice but to ask for your skills. If not, I can permit you to spend the afternoon reading.”
That’s as good as Ranpo is going to get, so he leans forward and pulls his glasses from his pocket. “I want my lollipop back, too,” he tells Yosano as he slides his glasses onto his face.
Time to find out where, exactly, Atsushi has gone.
What does he already know about the kid’s sudden behavior change? It started a few months back, but has increased in frequency since then, as if he was wary of leaving at first but gained more confidence over time. He could have been worried about judgment from the other ADA members, or he could be hiding something—which may be reason for concern.
However, he’s brought back leftovers on more than one occasion, marking the box with his name and storing it in the break room fridge for the rest of the day. It’s always been in a generic takeout box—though, it’s odd, because Atsushi has a rather large appetite and Ranpo has never seen him not finish a meal. He can’t be bringing back extra to eat later in the afternoon, because he never touches the leftovers before he leaves and takes them home with. But he can’t be saving the leftovers for his dinner either, because he lives with Kyouka, and it wouldn’t be enough food for two.
Do the leftovers belong to someone else, then? Someone who, for some reason, can’t take them back themself?
Atsushi isn’t getting lunch with anyone from the Agency—obviously, otherwise Ranpo wouldn’t have been called in to investigate, and he would have known the answer without having to even touch his glasses. But Atsushi doesn’t exactly have friends outside of the Agency either. Lucy is the exception, but she often works the lunch shift, and obviously she’s here right now, when Atsushi is gone. Apart from her and the ADA members, the only people Atsushi really interacts with are…
…from the Port Mafia.
Oh, now this is getting interesting.
It can’t be something he’s being blackmailed into, because he never exhibits any signs of distress before he leaves—if anything, he seems to be excited, though he attempts to hide it. It’s a phenomenon not limited to Atsushi’s lunchtime disappearances, but also something Ranpo has noticed when he’s paired up for missions with Akutagawa.
Which means Atsushi is out getting lunch somewhere in Yokohama with Akutagawa, and he’s been doing this semi-regularly for the past few months.
Fascinating.
Ranpo was under the implication that they were still in the pining stages, but he’s had no reason to question whether or not that was actually the case until now—it’s not as if Akutagawa frequents the ADA office, and Ranpo has far more interesting things to do than deduce Atsushi’s love life.
He could go further with his deduction and pinpoint the exact restaurant they eat at, but he decides to allow them their privacy. It’s only fair, considering he’s done the same for Dazai and Mr. Fancy Hat.
Ranpo looks up, a lie forming on his tongue instantly. “Atsushi-kun is at lunch, as I said. He found a new place a couple blocks from here that makes the best chazuke he’s ever had, but he feels guilty about it, because he’s still learning to allow himself to get things he likes for himself.”
A collective sigh of relief ripples through his audience.
Lucy, having just arrived with Ranpo’s hot chocolate, Yosano’s soda, and the food, raises a skeptical eyebrow at him.
“All this for chazuke, huh?”
“Yep!” Ranpo smiles innocently. If Lucy knows anything, she must be sworn to secrecy, so he has no worries about her exposing the truth. She’d never admit it, but she cares about Atsushi too much for that. “I guess it’s really good chazuke. Not my preference, but hey, to each their own.”
Lucy snorts, but she doesn’t try to weasel any more information out of Ranpo, nor does she try to undermine his false deduction.
In fact, none of the others ask for more information—not even a specific location. Which means they have far too much trust in Ranpo and they are absolutely useless without him, unable to see through something that is so obviously a lie because Ranpo didn’t include any specifics.
Whatever. He got four Ramune and the promise of a peaceful afternoon out of it. Plus, he’s pretty sure Yosano is going to pay for his food.
Not to mention he’s the first to know about Atsushi’s little Port Mafia romance. If Dazai knew, he surely would have gone to bother them already, but he’s seemed just as uninterested in Atsushi’s lunch habits as Ranpo was, and clearly no one else was smart enough to piece together the obvious.
Satisfied with this outcome, Ranpo gleefully digs into his food. And while he may keep the truth a secret from the Agency, for Atsushi’s sake, he will definitely be spilling everything to Poe tonight.
iii. izumi kyouka
Today has been a good day for Kyouka.
Everyone else in the Agency (Kenji excluded) avoids accompanying Yosano on her shopping trips like it’s the plague, but Kyouka has never really understood that. She finds shopping with Yosano to be a certain kind of exhilarating—she gets to look through stores Atsushi would never glance twice at, fancy clothing stores so far out of her budget but still enjoyable to traverse, and shops that, according to Yosano, sell “great wine at reasonable prices.”
Kyouka has never tried wine, but she trusts Yosano’s judgment.
Since it’s Sunday, and the Agency had no case requests, Yosano offered to take Kyouka shopping with her, bribing her with a promise of paying for lunch, and crepes as well. Kyouka wouldn’t have needed the bribe, but it makes agreeing to go that much sweeter.
So, this morning, she had bid Atsushi farewell and Yosano promised to have Kyouka back by this evening. Atsushi smiled pleasantly, waving them off, almost seeming a little too excited at the prospect of watching them go.
At the time, Kyouka wrote it off as him simply looking forward to a peaceful day alone.
Now, she isn’t so sure. Because she’s standing outside their dorm and she can pick out two separate voices coming from within.
It’s late afternoon, and the sun hangs high in the sky, beating down on Kyouka even where she stands under the shade of the overhang. She can’t linger out here forever, and Yosano has already left. There are no auditory indications of a fight, which means it’s likely not an intruder, but Atsushi rarely invites people over.
Kyouka’s fear is that Dazai has chosen today to barge into their dorm and annoy Atsushi for no reason, and she would rather not deal with that right now.
But, she supposes that’s better than a fight, so she steels herself and opens the door. Maybe if she’s quiet enough, she can slip past the commotion and shut herself in her room, so she can finish her crepe in peace. She’s an expert in remaining unnoticed, having been trained as an assassin during her time with the Port Mafia—though creeping past Dazai is a feat only possible if he is especially distracted, or he’s decided to allow you to get away from him.
But then she toes her way into the kitchen, and finds Dazai is not the extra person in her and Atsushi’s dorm at all.
Akutagawa is seated at the table, his legs folded beneath him, hands around a steaming mug of tea, as he watches Atsushi cooking with a sickeningly fond look on his face.
“Oh,” Kyouka hears herself say, interrupting Atsushi’s spiel about the TV show they’ve been watching together.
Instantly, Atsushi and Akutagawa both whip their heads around to face her. Rashoumon bristles, momentarily spiking up from Akutagawa’s coat. Even after it’s settled back down, he still looks tense.
Kyouka has walked in on something she was definitely not supposed to be aware of.
“Oh— Um, hi, Kyouka-chan!” Atsushi smiles, though it’s strained and his expression is still wracked with anxiety. “I, uh… I wasn’t expecting you to get back so early…” He twists his fingers together, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.
Kyouka’s gaze slowly sweeps across the kitchen. There’s food sizzling in a pan on the stove—nearly done, if the smell permeating the air is any indication, and Atsushi has turned the heat down to low. There’s a pink tint to his cheeks as well, darkening by the second. Akutagawa, meanwhile, is resolutely looking down at the table, tracing his finger along the wood, his face strategically angled away from Kyouka so she can’t gauge his expression. His coat seems to be wrapped tighter around him than it was only moments before.
If Kyouka didn’t know any better, she would assume she’d accidentally interrupted date night Or…date afternoon.
“We were just—” Atsushi stammers, “We were training together, you know, ‘cause Dazai-san wants us to get better at working together…”
Kyouka nods along, as if she can’t tell Atsushi is lying.
“…and then we were hungry afterwards, so I suggested just coming back here, since it was close and you were gone and then we wouldn’t have to pay for dinner…”
(Like Akutagawa’s mafia paycheck can’t support dinner for both of them a hundred times over?)
“…so, we’re just— He’s just here for. Lunch. Because it was convenient. Obviously.” Atsushi chuckles nervously.
The tension in Akutagawa’s shoulders has increased tenfold over the past thirty seconds.
“Okay,” Kyouka says. She’s circling back to the date night theory. Atsushi is a notoriously bad liar, and if he’s trying to hide the real reason Akutagawa’s here…
Why else would he attempt to lie to Kyouka? Love makes you do stupid things, and under normal circumstances, Atsushi doesn’t bother even trying to spin out a lie he knows Kyouka will see through instantly. Date night is the only reasonable conclusion.
It makes sense, now that Kyouka thinks about it. Atsushi and Akutagawa have been less hostile towards each other recently, and more…well, the best way Kyouka can think of to describe it is like Dazai-san and Chuuya-san. Like they want everyone to believe they still hate each other, but there’s that thread of unwavering devotion running beneath every interaction. Like they can fight and argue, but it’s obvious they know each other better than anyone else knows them.
Atsushi could do way better—like maybe that girl from the Guild who works at the café now, or even someone else from the Port Mafia, like Tachihara or Higuchi—but it’s not Kyouka’s place to judge.
It is, however, her place to say something to Akutagawa, ensuring he knows what’s coming for him if he messes up. As Atsushi’s honorary sister, she has the responsibility of giving any of his partners a shovel talk.
That’s what Naomi said, anyway.
“Akutagawa?”
He flinches slightly at the sound of his name, then looks up to meet Kyouka’s eyes. He’s wiped his face clear of any emotion—not surprising, but it’d be a little funny to see him afraid in the context of the current situation.
Kyouka has never given a shovel talk before, and she’s never really thought about what she might say if the need arose. But Naomi said that it should be threatening—the scarier, the better—and Yosano agreed, suggesting specific threats of violence would help with that. Kyouka will simply have to trust their advice.
“If you hurt Atsushi, I will have no choice but to take a twelve-centimeter knife and stab you in the neck, slicing through the carotid artery. This will cut off blood supply to your brain and leave you dead shortly after. I will then dispose of your body, first removing and destroying anything that could be used to identify you, then dumping your body into the river to be washed out to the sea, strategically avoiding high traffic times when the corpse may be found.”
Somehow, Akutagawa seems to have gone even paler than usual.
Kyouka nods to herself. Good. That means she’s successfully done her job.
“As long as you don’t hurt Atsushi, you’ll be safe,” she promises with finality. She bows her head towards Akutagawa, then Atsushi, politely bidding them both farewell. She slips back to her bedroom, and the boys are silent until she shuts the door. Only then can she faintly pick up their voices, both speaking low enough that she can’t make out any specific words.
She’s tempted to snoop, but holds herself back. Even if she doesn’t particularly trust Akutagawa, she does trust Atsushi. Until he gives her reason to worry, she’ll let them have their fun, and she’ll keep quiet about what they must not want to become common knowledge.
After all, if it goes on for much longer, it will spill eventually. Ranpo certainly already knows, because he knows everything, and Dazai usually isn’t far behind him. One of those two will let something slip, even if Atsushi and Akutagawa both keep quiet.
That’s what happened with Dazai and Chuuya, and Ranpo and Poe. It’s only a matter of time.
Until then, though, Kyouka will leave them alone, and she’ll be happy for Atsushi. Maybe even Akutagawa, too, if she’s feeling generous—in that brief instant before they noticed her presence, he had appeared happier and more relaxed than she’d ever seen him before, and Atsushi was rambling without shame or guilt over occupying space in the conversation.
Maybe they’ll be good for each other.
But Kyouka will still be ready to stab Akutagawa at a moment’s notice. It’s best to always be vigilant.
iv. lucy maud montgomery
It’s a typical boring Thursday at the Café Uzumaki, and Lucy is trying not to fall asleep behind the counter. Business is slow this morning, and she’s been awake since before five. Opening shifts are hell.
She’s half-heartedly wiping the counter down when the bell above the door rings, signaling a new customer, and the air in the building seems to darken instantly.
Lucy looks up, her usual pleasant greeting dying on her tongue when she sees who has just walked into the café:
Akutagawa Ryuunosuke, rabid dog of the Port Mafia, clad in a black coat zipped up to his chin, sunglasses resting on his face and covering his eyes, though they do nothing to hide his ever-present scowl. With the truce between the Agency and Port Mafia in place, it’s no longer unusual to see mafia members come through the café, often stopping to grab a drink before they head up to the Agency office for whatever it is the two organizations have found themselves forced to team up on. Lucy knows, also, that you can usually spot a mafia member on their way to an Agency meeting based on how much extra espresso they order in their drink.
However, now that being so close to the Agency headquarters is no longer a death sentence for mafiosos, Lucy has discovered they’ll occasionally come on their days off too—though they always order to-go, knowing better than to stick around and risk an argument breaking out on neutral ground.
(Lucy has thrown people out for inter-organization arguments before, and she will do it again. Even if said fight is between a mafia executive and the world’s self-proclaimed greatest detective.)
So, Akutagawa’s presence is not particularly concerning. Though it could certainly be considered intimidating the way he stalks up to the counter as if he’s here to order a murder instead of a coffee.
Lucy plasters her best customer service smile across her face and asks him, “What can I get for you today?”
Carefully, Akutagawa removes the sunglasses from his face, folds them, and slips them into his pocket. He doesn’t even glance up at the menu before he orders, in a bored voice, “One medium green tea, and one large white chocolate mocha.”
Lucy rings up the first drink, then pauses as she registers the rest of the order. Akutagawa didn’t come in with anyone else, and she finds it hard to imagine he’d bother ordering a drink on someone else’s behalf regardless—except for maybe Gin, though they prefer simply writing their order down on a slip of paper. And they don’t order white chocolate mochas.
Atsushi likes the white chocolate mocha. But he never orders a large drink for himself.
How interesting.
Lucy bites back her smile as she finishes entering the order. She doesn’t even have a chance to tell Akutagawa his total before he’s handing her a sleek black card—another telltale sign that she’s serving a mafia member—and telling her, “I’d like both drinks to go.”
“Sure thing!”
Lucy watches Akutagawa out of the corner of her eye as she makes the drinks. He stands near the pick-up counter, eyes glued to his phone screen as he types slowly. It’s habit, really, to keep an eye on mafia members—even if they rarely actually cause an incident.
(Lucy understands—when you’re not on the clock, you’re not a bad person. You’re just a normal guy trying to get some coffee.)
She finishes the green tea, then sets it aside to stir the mocha. Just as she’s placing the lid on the second drink, one Nakajima Atsushi comes bouncing down the stairs, a wide grin stretched across his face. He walks straight up to Akutagawa, plucking the phone out of his hands and greeting him with a chipper, “Hi!”
Lucy braces herself, preparing to pull Akutagawa into Anne’s Room the second he shows any sign of hostility towards Atsushi. Even if he deserves it, Lucy can’t have Akutagawa scaring the customers. She’ll deposit the two boys outside, and they can duke it out in a nearby alleyway. Or wherever it is mafia members most enjoy battling detectives to the death.
But Akutagawa does not summon his ability. There’s a ripple through his coat, which smoothes over as soon as he sees it’s Atsushi who is harassing him.
“You’re late,” Akutagawa tells him pointedly. He takes his phone back and pockets it.
Atsushi laughs nervously. “Sorry, it’s just— It’s not exactly easy to get out of there unnoticed, you know!”
Akutagawa clicks his tongue. “Well. Perhaps it is your fault for working with detectives.”
Atsushi rolls his eyes, though there’s something fond behind it, and Lucy gets the strange feeling that they’ve had this argument before. She gets the strange feeling that Akutagawa and Atsushi are far closer than they’ve been letting on—and not for the first time, either.
Lucy may not have Ranpo’s Ultra Deduction ability or Dazai’s freakishly high IQ, but what she does have is a nice view from the café windows and a front-row seat to the few times Akutagawa has met Atsushi outside before they go off to get lunch somewhere.
(Ranpo had supposedly deduced Atsushi was going to some place with exceptionally good chazuke, but Lucy could tell he was lying through his teeth. It’s a wonder none of the others did, what with them being detectives and all.)
Not that it matters much—this isn’t Lucy’s news to share. She’ll stick to shooting coy smiles at Atsushi whenever Akutagawa is mentioned in conversation and pretending not to notice the way his cheeks flush.
“One green tea and one white chocolate mocha!” She calls out, placing the drinks on the counter. For the sake of confidentiality, she knows better than to ask mafia members for their names. They’d give her a fake one anyway, and then Lucy would have to remember whatever lie they fed her instead of just their order.
Akutagawa perks up, turning away from Atsushi and striding towards the counter. He nods and offers a pleasant, “Thank you,” before taking the two cups.
Atsushi peeks out from behind him. “Hi, Lucy! How are y— Oh, wait, Akutagawa, why’d you get two drinks?”
Akutagawa stares at him for a moment. Lucy bites back her laughter.
“Why do you think I got two drinks?” He asks. “And who else do you know that actually enjoys the monstrosity that is white chocolate?” He huffs, then holds out the larger cup to Atsushi.
Atsushi looks at the cup like Akutagawa just placed the world in his hands; Lucy can practically see the hearts in his gleaming eyes. All because of a stupid latte. It’s like the worst coffee shop AU she’s ever had the displeasure of experiencing, and she’s had at least three different guys try to give her their number.
“Thank you,” Atsushi whispers, almost reverent.
Lucy has had about enough of this—look, she’s happy for Atsushi, of course, but can he go be disgustingly in love with his mass murderer boyfriend somewhere that is not her place of work?—so she coughs, breaking the boys out of their Moment.
“Oh!” Atsushi exclaims. “Sorry! How are you doing, Lucy?”
He takes a sip of his drink as she answers, because he’s a monster who has a ridiculously high heat tolerance.
“Tired. I had to open this morning.” She sighs, leaning forward over the counter. “But my day was made much more exciting by the two of you coming in, so thanks for that!”
Atsushi doesn’t seem to get her implication, but Akutagawa’s glare deepens. Lucy ignores him, because she loves pissing off mafia members when they know they can’t do anything to her, lest they be taken into Anne’s room. Or, in Akutagawa’s case, lest they lose their boyfriend after they attempt to murder said boyfriend’s best friend.
“Of course!” Atsushi responds cheerily. “It’s always nice to be able to visit you!”
Akutagawa’s frown digs even deeper into his face—Lucy didn’t even know it was possible to glower so hard. It’s kind of hilarious.
“Well, I’d hate to keep you, so I’ll let you be off now,” she says, leaning back. “Have fun, and be safe!”
“We will!”
And then Atsushi grabs Akutagawa’s arm and drags him out of the café. Akutagawa lets him, and the sickeningly sweet smile that crosses his face as he follows Atsushi away makes Lucy want to vomit.
But…admittedly, it’s also kind of cute, and Atsushi’s been pining for ages. It’s nice to see him so happy. Even if he found said happiness with a mafioso who has killed more people than Lucy will ever know.
She leans back, crossing her arms over her chest as she watches them walk away through the café windows. She hopes Atsushi knows that once he finally decides to tell her, he is never going to escape her teasing again.
v. higuchi ichiyou
As much as Higuchi would rather not admit it, joint missions between the Port Mafia and Armed Detective Agency are rarely completed without issues rising between groups. There is an ever-growing list of partnerships that ended so disastrously they have been blacklisted from ever working together again.
In Higuchi’s humble opinion, the Akutagawa and Atsushi partnership should have ended up at the top of that list after their very first “official” mission together. They nearly burnt down an entire apartment complex, and the person they were after would have gotten away if not for Higuchi herself waiting on standby as backup. But Higuchi knows better than to question the Boss, and the Dazai-Chuuya partnership has had even more disastrous outcomes, so who is she to worry about minor arson charges?
Thankfully, Akutagawa and Atsushi have come a long way from that first mission. Otherwise, Higuchi would not have been so happy to find herself on yet another assignment with the two of them.
At least Gin is with her today. And this mission requires two separate attacks: Akutagawa and Atsushi on the front lines while Higuchi and Gin take out snipers away from the main battle.
“Gin-kun,” Dazai’s voice sounds through Higuchi’s earpiece, “there’s one more just to your right.”
Higuchi looks up, eyes trained on the opposing rooftop. She can’t see Gin in the dark, but she can imagine them sneaking up behind the final sniper and slicing his throat before he realizes he’s been located. They likely didn’t even need Dazai to tell them where he was hiding.
Moments later, Dazai’s voice returns. “Perfect. Atsushi-kun, Akutagawa-kun, you’re up!”
Before he’s even finished speaking, Higuchi can hear the telltale sound of Rashoumon ripping a door off its hinges and tossing it aside. Mentally, she assigns Akutagawa the property damage report the Agency will surely insist they complete.
“Higuchi-san,” a voice sounds behind her, soft and melodic. Still, it makes her jump. She whirls around, anticipating a fight—
“Oh.” She breathes out a sigh of relief. “Gin. Hi.”
Gin nods in acknowledgment. She gestures to the chaos unfolding below, then raises a quizzical eyebrow. Higuchi interprets that as something along the lines of, Do you think they’ll succeed?
Higuchi peers over the edge of the building. She can’t really see much from here—the majority of the action will be happening inside. Probably. If everything goes according to plan. But Dazai isn’t yelling at the boys yet, so that’s a good sign.
Then again, last time, he apparently fell asleep halfway through the mission, so. Who knows.
“I’m sure they’ll be fine,” Higuchi answers with more confidence than she feels. It’s not that she doubts Akutagawa’s skill—or even the weretiger’s, for that matter—but when the two of them are together, things can get…complicated. “They’ve come a long way in the past several months.”
Gin snorts at that.
With their part of the mission complete, there isn’t much to do besides wait. But Higuchi is finding she doesn’t mind quiet moments like this with Gin. They used to be awkward, tension twelve feet thick, because Gin never spoke and Higuchi could never read whether they were angry or bored or happy or anything.
Now, though… Now, Higuchi recognizes the relaxation in Gin’s expression that denotes content, despite their arms crossed against their chest. Now, Higuchi has found the silence to be comfortable. She wouldn’t mind just sitting with Gin in this peaceful quiet for hours, only broken by the night breeze and the occasional tic from Higuchi.
—and, that’s really not something she needs to be thinking about right now. They’re in the middle of a mission. Focus.
Gin leans back against the door that leads to the stairwell, letting their eyes slip shut. Higuchi twists her fingers together. Clicks her tongue.
It’s only about seven minutes before her earpiece crackles to life once more—Akutagawa’s voice, this time. “The target has been captured. No thanks to the weretiger’s help.”
“Hey!” Atsushi’s voice now, indignant.
Higuchi rolls her eyes. She looks over at Gin just in time to see them remove their own earpiece and slip it in their pocket. They peel themself off the wall, gesturing for Higuchi to follow.
Right— Peace only lasts but a moment when you’re with the mafia. And now comes the most challenging part of this mission: making sure Akutagawa and the weretiger don’t kill each other.
— —
Higuchi hears their shouting long before she sees them. They stopped arguing over the earpiece, at least. Small mercies.
Higuchi mentally prepares herself for the near-impossible task of pulling the two apart, debating whether or not it would reflect badly on her if she asked Gin to physically drag their brother away from Atsushi, but then she actually hears what Akutagawa is saying and—
“You are going to get yourself killed, foolish weretiger! You cannot recklessly throw yourself in the line of fire and rely on your regenerative abilities to save you.”
Higuchi freezes. She swallows the noise building in the back of her throat, not wanting to be heard.
“If I hadn’t, you would have gotten hurt!” Atsushi argues. “You were left open because you were in the process of transferring your coat to me. I wasn’t going to let him just stab you in the stomach!”
“I’ve faced worse!”
Higuchi looks over at Gin. Their gaze is focused on a spot in the distance, in the direction that the voices are coming from. Their hair falls over their face, hiding their expression from view—something Higuchi laments greatly. For reasons relating to better reading this situation, and not at all because Gin is basically the prettiest person Higuchi has ever met. Obviously.
Her hands clench into fists at her side. Her neck twitches.
Atsushi groans. It sounds like a growl. “I don’t care! Or— I do care, but— Just because you’ve suffered worse in the past doesn’t mean it’s okay for you to get hurt now.”
Akutagawa scoffs. “That’s part of my job. You’d be hard-pressed to prevent me from ever getting injured. Your ability is not transferable like mine.”
“Okay, but when I’m here—”
“You are insufferable!”
“You would have gotten stabbed!”
“You did get stabbed!”
“Yeah, but I am fine now! You would be bleeding out in my arms! Is that what you want?”
“Yes.”
“Akutagawa!”
Gin facepalms. Higuchi rolls her shoulders. She doesn’t even know what to think of this. They don’t seem to be entering into a physical fight, so…maybe she and Gin can just stay back until they’re done bickering over which one of them should have gotten stabbed? Or should they intervene now before things escalate—?
“I can’t watch you die again, alright?!” Atsushi exclaims. His voice cracks halfway through, and it doesn’t sound at all like the way one would regard an enemy. “I just… I can’t.”
There’s no response on Akutagawa’s part—or, if there is, it isn’t loud enough for Higuchi to hear.
She clicks her tongue, turning to look at Gin. In as low a whisper as she can manage, she asks, “I thought those two hated each—brrr—each other?”
Gin just stares at her.
“What?!” Higuchi hisses.
Gin stares harder.
Is she missing something? She works with Akutagawa all the time; surely she would have noticed if his opinion on the weretiger had changed. He talks about Atsushi an awful lot, but it makes sense considering how often they’re partnered up, and it’s always complaints. It’s always paired with a scrunched nose and an eye roll— “One day, I swear, I am going to skin that weretiger alive.” “The weretiger can’t even properly tie a bow-tie.” “The day I am finally rid of that weretiger’s presence is the day I will finally know happiness.” “The weretiger likes white chocolate. Disgusting.” “The weretiger might actually look halfway decent if he didn’t wear that same ratty outfit every day.”—
Wait.
…Oh. Oh. Oh, shit.
“No,” Higuchi whispers, her eyes widening as the realization settles over her. “You d-d-don’t mean they’re—? No. Gin, no.”
Gin nods slowly.
Akutagawa. And the weretiger—
The floor sways beneath Higuchi’s feet. Is she going to pass out? She might pass out. That would be excusable, right? Because— Akutagawa. And the weretiger. From the Armed Detective Agency. Akutagawa and his sworn arch enemy. They’re—
No. Higuchi won’t even think it. Akutagawa would never stoop so low.
But…last time she heard Akutagawa mention him, it wasn’t a growled threat or riddled with swearing. It was an offhand comment about Atsushi’s typical coffee order paired with a scrunched nose and the barest hint of fondness behind his words. And…well…now that Higuchi is thinking about it… He’s seemed happier lately, hasn’t he? Less threatening to kill people for one wrong move, less lashing out with Rashoumon as the slightest irritant, and last week, Higuchi even saw him smiling at his phone.
(Or, as close as Akutagawa gets to a smile. …It was mostly in the eyes.)
“Oh my God,” Higuchi mumbles. She reaches out to Gin for support, a hand coming to rest on their shoulder as she struggles to remain upright. Her palms are slick with sweat, and— Who else knows? Does Mori know? Unlikely, considering both Akutagawa and the weretiger are still alive. How long until word reaches him? Or will he be able to figure it out on his own like Gin and Higuchi?
“Does anyone else know?” Higuchi hisses.
Gin shrugs. Before Higuchi can point out that she has heard Gin’s voice before and this is sort of important, so a verbal answer would be greatly appreciated, Gin straightens their back and slips Higuchi’s hand from their shoulder. Just in time for Akutagawa and Atsushi to round the corner, twin scowls etched across their faces.
But they’re standing too close together. And Atsushi is still wearing Akutagawa’s coat.
Will Higuchi ever know another moment of peace after tonight?
“Good work,” Akutagawa says curtly. “Dazai-san said the cleanup crew should be here shortly. Weretiger, come with me.”
With that, Akutagawa brushes past them. A sharp noise of complaint makes its way out of Atsushi’s throat, but then he just groans and follows Akutagawa away without a word of argument.
“Oh my God,” Higuchi whispers again.
Gin pats her back sympathetically.
+ i. akutagawa ryuunosuke & nakajima atsushi
Akutagawa would not say going out to eat with the weretiger is a weekly occurrence, exactly—their lives are too chaotic to wrangle a single day of each week like such consistency would require. However, it has, despite his best laid plans, become a permanent fixture in his life.
He wants to hate it far more than he truly does.
It’s a Sunday morning, which means Atsushi does not have to report for work unless they get a sudden case that requires his expertise. Or, rather, something that requires the tiger’s brute strength considering the so-called “detective” agency hires remarkably few employees actually capable of solving a mystery.
Atsushi fits the “armed” part of the name far better, Akutagawa supposes.
The restaurant they’ve selected this morning is familiar. It’s far enough away from both the Agency headquarters and mafia territory that they aren’t likely to be spotted by anyone from either organization—unless said person is also trying to avoid being recognized. In which case, Akutagawa is sure the two opposing parties could come to an…understanding. Even if Atsushi would greatly disapprove of his methods.
The food is subpar, if Akutagawa is being honest. But Atsushi has tragically terrible taste, and their options are limited. At least the tea is pleasant.
(And, as loath as Akutagawa is to admit it, the company is not bad either.)
He has found he (regretfully) does not mind listening to Atsushi ramble about work, or his friends, or what book he’s reading, or whatever else may come to mind. It’s a refreshing break from the loop of mafia darkness he will forever be stuck in. Not that he minds being part of the mafia, or the fact that a great majority of the conversations he shares with fellow mafiosos are weighed down by the heaviness of the work they do, but it’s…nice, to talk with someone outside of that.
And, well, if there ever comes a time when the Port Mafia and the Agency are once again at each other’s throats, Akutagawa has gained a large quantity of mostly useless information on their foes.
Currently, Atsushi is regaling him with a tale of Kyouka, Kenji, and the Director teaming up to steal…something from Ranpo. With the amount of messing around that supposedly goes on at the Agency, Akutagawa is surprised they manage to do any work at all, but it makes for entertaining stories. And he can’t deny that he’s shared his own anecdotes from particularly bizarre happenings within the mafia.
“…and then Yosano-sensei was like— Shit!”
Akutagawa blinks. “Huh?”
Atsushi presses a finger to his lips, his eyes growing wide. He tilts his head like he does whenever he’s relying on his enhanced tiger hearing, and several expressions cross his face in quick succession. Worry, confusion, disappointment, annoyance, dread. Akutagawa notably likes that last one least, but it’s what Atsushi seems to settle on. He tries to rack his mind for what the issue might be, but before he can come up with a solid hypothesis, said issue comes into view.
In the form of one Dazai Osamu and one Nakahara Chuuya rounding the street corner, bickering as per usual.
If it were anyone else, Akutagawa would drag Atsushi back inside the restaurant and they would just lock themselves in the bathroom until the problem passed. But if Dazai is involved—
It’s already too late. The fact that Dazai is existing in the vicinity means they’ve been caught. There is no hope to run from him; the only hope is to grit your teeth, take whatever he throws in your direction, and hope it doesn’t knock you off your feet completely.
Akutagawa sets his cup down, prim and proper, shoulders tensed and back straight. If Atsushi notices the sudden change in his posture, he doesn’t mention it. Carefully, he sets his chopsticks down, and Akutagawa can see the thousand thoughts racing through his head. Unfortunately, there is no plan the two of them could come up with on the fly that will save them from Dazai and Chuuya. Akutagawa knows this, and he knows Atsushi knows it as well, even if he may argue otherwise to make himself feel better.
Right on cue, Dazai drops his argument with Chuuya like it’s a toy he’s grown bored of, and his gaze lands on Atsushi and Akutagawa. His eyes light up. He waves eagerly.
“Atsushi-kun! Akutagawa-kun!”
He grabs Chuuya by the wrist, dragging him along as he rushes over to their table. Akutagawa swallows a groan.
Atsushi does not swallow his groan, nor does he suppress his eye roll. In that regard, he is braver than Akutagawa may ever be, but at least he can live vicariously through Atsushi’s actions
“What a coincidence that we ran into the two of you!” Dazai starts, cheerily, as if he can’t sense both Akutagawa and Atsushi’s attempts to send a telepathic message begging him to go away. “I was just taking my dog on a walk through the city—” (Here, Chuuya kicks Dazai’s ankle and wrestles their hand out of Dazai’s grip, grumbling a string of swear words under their breath) “—and enjoying the beautiful weather when I thought I saw some familiar faces dining at this lovely establishment.”
Chuuya buries their face in their hands. Akutagawa prays they won’t get tired of Dazai’s antics and ditch him, because they are the only hope for dragging him away before things turn from bad to worse.
(And what a terrible thought that is.)
“Hello, Dazai-san,” Atsushi greets evenly. “I thought you and Kunikida-san had a case this morning?”
Dazai waves his hand vaguely. “I let Kenji-kun go with him.”
Akutagawa purses his lips. He has an odd feeling that’s not how cases are supposed to work at the Agency, but he doesn’t know enough about their organization’s inner workings to dispute it. He raises an eyebrow at Chuuya, who just shakes his head, exhausted.
Don’t question him, he seems to say.
Fair enough, Akutagawa thinks.
“Anyway!” Dazai claps his hands together. “How are my two favorite mentees doing this morning? And what brings you two here, together?”
“Mission work,” Akutagawa answers, his speech clipped and scripted.
“Oh?” Dazai leans closer, exaggeratedly observing their table. “But I don’t see any paperwork?”
Behind him, Chuuya starts to slowly back away. Akutagawa shoots them a pleading expression, which is expectedly ignored. So much for caring about their subordinates. As soon as they’re off the clock, Chuuya’s top priority is clearly themself.
“That’s because we’re just talking over what we’re going to write for our report!” Atsushi chimes in. “It—makes the work easier, once we…actually. Start…writing the report.”
He offers Dazai a smile that could not possibly be more fake. Akutagawa does not scoff, if only because that would certainly blow the flimsy cover they’ve created for themselves.
Dazai nods, pulling his expression into something too serious to be genuine. “I see, I see. And I’m assuming Mori-san is the one requesting this report? Since your last partner mission was three weeks ago, and Atsushi-kun definitely already turned in his report. …Although…” He taps his finger against his chin.
Akutagawa holds his breath, silently counting down the seconds to his untimely demise.
Well, not too untimely, he supposes. Though he always expected he would fall in battle rather than dying from shame upon Dazai finding out he regularly chooses to spend time with the Agency’s weretiger.
“Chuuya~” Dazai calls over his shoulder, “I thought you said Akutagawa-kun turned in his report from his last mission with Atsushi-kun a few days after the fact? Did dear old Mori-san request another one for some reason?”
Chuuya, now standing several steps away from Dazai, freezes. He studies Akutagawa and Atsushi for a moment, then shrugs. “Maybe, who knows. I can’t keep track of every little decision he makes.”
The betrayal written across Dazai’s face almost makes this entire situation worth it. Atsushi is unsuccessful in biting back his snicker, but Akutagawa doesn’t even have it in him to be angry. Not when he gets to see that small smile grace Atsushi’s face, and the glow of fuller laughter in his eyes.
“Now stop bothering the kids or I’ll go buy the most expensive wine I can find using your credit card.”
“Ha! I know my card is in my wallet, which is in my pocket!”
Chuuya turns away. “I have the number memorized.”
Dazai’s expression quickly morphs from smug to horrified. “Wait, no! No, you’re lying! …Right? Chuuya!”
Chuuya cackles. He waves over his shoulder as he begins slowly walking back in the direction he and Dazai came from. “I’ll see you Monday, Akutagawa.”
A strangled cry escapes Dazai’s throat. “Wait, wait, Chuuya, wait—! Agh!” He hurriedly waves to Akutagwa and Atsushi. “I need to get a better leash for my dog, apparently. Have fun on your date!”
And then he’s gone, running after Chuuya, shouting about how it’s a breach of privacy to memorize his credit card information and how Chuuya has plenty of their own money to buy whatever disgusting wines they want, and—
Wait.
Akutagawa blinks.
Dazai had said—
Have fun on your date!
That’s not— That is not what this is. Akutagawa is not on a date with the weretiger of all people. That is simply absurd. So maybe they get food together on occasion, and maybe they’ve been spending more time together recently, and maybe Akutagawa is finding that the more he is subject to Atsushi’s presence, the more he comes to enjoy it. Maybe he’s been happier lately, and maybe it has to do with these outings between himself and Atsushi, but… It doesn’t mean anything.
Right?
It doesn’t mean anything when Akutagawa offers to pay, or when he spends extra time getting ready before he sees Atsushi. It doesn’t mean anything when he no longer flinches away from physical contact, or when the sight of Atsushi in his coat makes his stomach do somersaults, or when he feels vaguely ill at the thought of Atsushi no longer being in his life. At the thought of Atsushi realizing the same thing Dazai did—that he will never be worth the effort, and the easiest route will always be to simply walk away and move on.
It doesn’t mean anything.
Except, Akutagawa’s face is hot and he thinks, maybe it does mean something.
He stares down into his tea, trying to will away the blood rushing to his cheeks.
Atsushi lets out a nervous laugh. It hurts to not look.
“Sorry about him,” Atsushi says, like it’s his fault. Like he’s somehow responsible for the calamity that is Dazai Osamu. Like anyone has any control over that man. “He was just— saying things, I’m sure. Like he does.”
“Was he?” It slips from Akutagawa’s lips before he can stop it.
“What?”
“What?”
There are several beats of silence before Akutagawa finally lifts his gaze, letting it settle on Atsushi’s face. His cheeks are tinted pink too, and he’s studying Akutagawa so intently it makes his skin crawl.
“What…was that supposed to mean?” He asks slowly.
“I do not know what you’re talking about.” Akutagawa crosses his arms over his chest.
“You implied Dazai-san’s insinuation of— of our current situation may have held some truth!”
“I did no such thing.”
“You did! You—” Atsushi breaks off into a groan, burying his face in his hands. He mumbles something Akutagawa could never hope to make out.
“What was that?”
“Nothing,” he grumbles. “Just— Thought I was being less obvious.”
Akutagawa raises an eyebrow. “Less obvious about what?”
Atsushi does not answer.
“Spit it out, weretiger!”
“About— You know!”
“I do not.”
“You were the one who said this might as well be a date—”
“I did not.”
“—so clearly, you’ve figured out my feelings!”
“I—” Akutagawa’s mind short-circuits, emptying out any coherent thoughts. He must have heard wrong. Maybe he passed out due to the stress of interacting with Dazai. It would not be the first time. “Your…what?”
Atsushi sighs, his gaze dropping down to the table. He drags a finger around the edge of his plate, resting his chin on his other hand. “It’s whatever. You don’t have to reciprocate or anything. But, I mean…I wouldn’t really be opposed if this were a date…”
“You…?” Akutagawa furrows his eyebrows. Gin has spent years telling him he is not in touch with his emotions; it’s something he’s simply come to accept about himself. So it’s understandable that he wouldn’t recognize his…not-platonic feelings for the weretiger until they were pointed out. It is also…not impossible that he could have been essentially dating the weretiger for months without either of them realizing it, given said weretiger’s penchant for being utterly foolish.
He clears his throat, cheeks warming again as he admits, “I suppose I would…not be against that idea either.”
Atsushi’s eyes widen. “Wait— Really?”
“Weretiger. We have been spending time together outside of work for months, and I have yet to kill you despite a great many opportunities and reasons to do so. Is that not already a partnership?”
Atsushi frowns. “I think maybe you need to not get relationship advice from Dazai-san and Chuuya-san.” He shakes his head. “Never mind. You…” A goofy smile replaces his frown.
Akutagawa wonders what it would be like to kiss him.
“You really want to date me?”
“Do not make me change my mind by asking stupid questions.”
Atsushi’s smile doesn’t fade. It’s infuriating, but it’s also one of the reasons Akutagawa likes him, despite everything. Atsushi doesn’t give up, and he can always find a reason to smile.
It’s annoying. It’s one of the few things that gives Akutagawa hope.
“Okay,” Atsushi agrees. “No more stupid questions.”
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”
Atsushi rolls his eyes. He reaches across the table, taking one of Akutagawa’s hands in his. The contact is a surprisingly welcome feeling, and warmth seeps through Akutagawa’s body. Starting in the palm, slinking up his arm, and settling in his chest before spreading out to his head, his ears, his other hand, his legs, his toes—
Maybe it should be uncomfortable, but it’s not.
It’s a feeling Akutagawa thinks he could get used to. One he wants to spend the rest of his life experiencing, over and over again.
