Chapter Text
“Akutagawa, what are you doing?” Atsushi was careful to keep his voice light as he stepped through the doorway. He wasn’t looking for a fight and could only hope Akutagawa was willing to talk without it coming to blows.
When the door opened, Akutagawa spun, Rashomon hovering over his shoulder, ready to strike out. He visibly relaxed when he heard Atsushi’s voice and retracted Rashomon into his sweater.
“I was–” His eyes flashed with something, something that burned through the angry mask he always wore. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“I kinda work here,” Atsushi said, carefully neutral. There was no reason to be anything but honest with Akutagawa. “Volunteer gig. The zoo needed funding… Seemed like a good cause, and it gave me an excuse to train my stamina.”
Akutagawa’s eyes went wide for a split second before they narrowed into a sharp glare. “You were the damn tiger.”
“Yeah.” Atsushi shrugged.
He looked away, jaw clenched. “I didn’t know.”
That was a relief to know. “You broke in here looking for the tiger… why?”
“I didn’t–” Akutagawa broke off, like the words caught on something in his throat. He coughed lightly, clearing his throat and buying himself time to think.
“You broke in. Why?” Atsushi repeated the question, putting slightly more force behind the words this time. Atsushi tilted his head. “Why did you… wait in line to take a photo?”
The question had been nagging him since he’d first spotted Akutagawa in the crowd.
“Drop it, Weretiger.” Rashomon bristled along his sweater. “This does not concern you.”
“But, it does, right?” Atsushi took a careful step closer and tapped at his right ear. “I could hear part of your conversations with Gin.”
Akutagawa’s eyes narrowed, “You were eavesdropping?”
This time, a tentril of Rashomon whipped out of his sweater and hovered over his shoulder. A threat. His shoulders were tense, jaw clenched, but there was still a flicker of something else beneath the anger. Even in the darkness, Atsushi could see the hint of color dusting his cheeks.
“What did you hear?”
“Enough to be confused,” he admitted. He held his hands up, “I don’t want to fight, please put Rashomon away.”
Akutagawa sneered. “There is no sense in pretending. Why don’t we finish it here and now?”
“Finish what?”
“Fool. Has the continued peace in the city made your brain softer than it already was? The last time we spoke, I reminded you that I held up my end of the deal.”
Atsushi blinked, trying to recall their last conversation. Oh. Oh.
The old wood beneath their feet creaks softly as they stand side by side on the pier, the water below glittering in the fading sunlight. It’s pretty. Atsushi focuses on it, on the movements and shifting colors, letting his thoughts fade away for a brief moment. The warm breeze lifts Atsushi’s hair and pulls him back into the moment.
“You don’t have to stand like you’re waiting to be ambushed,” Atsushi says, arms folded as he glances sideways. “It’s peaceful.”
Akutagawa scoffs faintly. “You dragged me out here for peace?”
“I didn’t drag you,” Atsushi says, kicking a stray pebble off the pier. “You followed me.”
“Because I didn’t trust you not to fall in.”
A beat. Atsushi grins. “You mean you were worried about me.”
“I mean, you are clumsy.” He pauses a moment before adding, “And an idiot. Strolling into Port Mafia territory like this is ill-advised.”
“Oh,” Atsushi looks around, as if just now realizing where they are. “I guess I wasn’t paying attention to where I was walking.”
Akutagawa gives him a withering stare. “That’s not exactly comforting.”
Atsushi shrugs, leaning on the railing. “Well, you’re here. So I guess I’m safe, then.”
Akutagawa goes still at that. Just for a second. Then he mutters, “You assume too much.”
“Oh?” A smile tugs at Atsushi’s lips. He feels safe with Akutagawa. Not only has he stopped killing, but he has also actively helped save civilians. It’s not something he wishes to voice out loud, but he is proud of him. Proud of them.
“I upheld my end of the bargain.”
Atsushi’s shoulders tense. He doesn’t turn to look at him. “Not this again.”
“We are past six months. It is time to designate a time and place.”
“You still want to kill me?” He thinks he knows the answer is ‘no’; he has for some time now. But the doubt is back now. He doesn’t know what to think, what to do, if all he feels is one-sided. If he can’t continue to feel safe.
Akutagawa doesn’t answer right away. The silence stretches, and finally, Atsushi turns to look at him.
Atsushi opens his mouth. Closes it again. He studies Akutagawa. “Of course you do,” he says bitterly. “You always did. Even when we were working together, you couldn’t stop reminding me.”
Atsushi grinds his teeth against the wave of hurt, pain– betrayal, how could he allow himself to fall for it? “At least it’s mutual now.”
He doesn’t mean it, regrets it even as he says it.
“I–” Akutagawa coughs. “When and where, Weretiger? I will give you that courtesy.”
“You’re really this eager to die?” Atsushi can’t look at him. “Fine. Let’s end it. I’m tired of pretending to care about you.”
When Atsushi finally glances up, Akutagawa is staring at him, eyes blank in that dangerous way he gets when something hurts more than he wants to admit.
“I see,” Akutagawa says, his tone measured. “I’ll send you a time and place. Don’t worry. I’ll make it quick.” Then he walks away, back stiff.
Atsushi stands at the pier for a few hours, letting his thoughts drift away with the tide.
Atsushi frowned at the memory. That was months ago, and Akutagawa had never reached out. He’d assumed the matter was settled for some reason or another. In honesty, he’d nearly forgotten about it. While there were no pressing threats, work was still busy, people still had problems that needed to be solved. The police still requested the agency’s assistance on various cases. Life went on, busy as ever.
He sighed. “I’m not going to fight you to the death, Akutagawa. Especially not at the zoo.”
“There is a warehouse a few blocks–”
“I said no, Akutagawa.”
“You’re backing out of–”
“Stop trying to change the subject!”
“Stop interrupting me!”
Atsushi crossed his arms. “I don’t hate you. For the record. In case that’s why you still want to kill me.”
“I need to kill you.”
Sensing the growing tension, Atsushi uncrossed his arms, ready in case Akutagawa attacked.
Then, Rashomon retracted into his sweater, and Akutagawa took a small step toward him. “I suppose I could answer your questions before killing you. Gin would be upset with me if I didn’t.”
Atsushi blinked.
“Can we talk somewhere else? It stinks like tiger in here.”
Atsushi stepped aside for Akutagawa to pass and followed him wordlessly out of the enclosure. As he reached the door, he pulled the walkie-talkie off his hip and radioed back to the head of security. “Everything checked out. I’m going to walk the perimeter just to be sure.”
“Ok. Let me know if you need backup.”
“Enjoy the party.”
He glanced around and found Akutagawa across the path at a small picnic table. It was situated under a large tree, giving the illusion of seclusion. It was already private enough, given that the park was closed.
Atsushi tossed the radio to the table and swung his legs over the bench across from Akutagawa. He placed his arms on the table as he waited for Akutagawa to answer his questions.
“I…” Akutagawa hesitated, not meeting Atushi’s eyes. “Gin thought talking to the white tiger would be a good enough stand in for you. I didn’t intend to ever talk to you again.”
“What did you want to tell the tiger?” Atsushi’s heart hammered in his chest. What did you want to tell me?
Akutagawa closed his eyes and said, with an air of finality, “Goodbye.”
Atsushi froze, breath hitching. “I… I don’t understand.”
Was he… still dying? His understanding was that Akutagawa’s lung condition had been healed, something to do with the vampire curse he’d been under.
“My dereliction of duty has not gone unnoticed.”
Akutagawa opened his eyes, those dark depths threatening to swallow him whole. “Which was acceptable, for a time, because the promise of your head was worth the short-term interruption of my work. I did not expect to become so weak that the idea of you ceasing to exist would give me pause.”
Atsushi blinked, mind whirling. With a shaky breath, he asked, “So you wanted to say goodbye before you killed me?”
Akutagawa turned his head, gaze fixed off into the darkness of the zoo. “Must I spoon feed you everything?”
“Maybe if you would speak plainly for once.” Atsushi swung one leg around the bench, ready to walk away, but hesitated when Akutagawa’s eyes snapped back to him.
“You– As I said, I need to kill you. If I wish to maintain my employment, I must be useful. For–”
“That’s stupid! You’re plenty useful even without killing.”
“I have become a liability,” he said without emotion.
“That’s–”
“Weretiger. Speaking this out loud is difficult enough without you interrupting me.”
“Ah, sorry.” Atsushi swung his other leg over the bench and stood from the bench in one fluid motion.
Akutagawa’s eyes followed him, lips pressing into a thin line when Atsushi took a few steps backwards.
“Would it be easier if I, uh, used my ability?” Atsushi scratched his cheek nervously, unsure if it was a good idea. His control over his ability seemed to waver only around Akutagawa– or perhaps it wavered only when he felt strong emotions.
For a long moment, Akutagawa said nothing. Only looked at him with slightly widened eyes as if he were working out the solution to a puzzle.
Then, Akutagawa looked away and said, “If it keeps you quiet for longer than three seconds.”
Atsushi shifted, fur rippling as he transformed, stretching long limbs before stepping forward. He moved around Akutagawa with quiet grace, each step measured, tail sweeping softly behind him.
Akutagawa rotated so he was now seated with his back to the table. His dark eyes were fixed on Atsushi, captivated. The grass was cool under his paws as he stalked around the table towards Akutagawa. He stopped a few feet away, tail curling around his body. His golden eyes never left Akutagawa, waiting for him to continue.
Akutagawa cleared his throat. “As I was saying. I have made the decision to let you live.”
Atsushi chuffed and stood, pinning Akutagawa with his golden stare. He was still in control, but felt the tiger’s urge to move. The desire to do something. Again.
“Can’t stay quiet even like that, can you?” Akutagawa clicked his tongue and tore his gaze off of Atsushi. “It is your vexing inability to shut the fuck up which has led to this.”
Atsushi tilted his head, studying Akutagawa. Despite the harshness of his words, his body was relaxed.
Risking being speared by Rashomon, Atsushi padded forward, closing the last of the distance between them. He dropped his head on Akutagawa’s lap and chuffed again, quieter this time. He felt Akutagawa jolt at the contact before almost instantly relaxing.
“Weretiger,” he sighed.
It felt right, Atsushi decided. Being close, touching. The tiger was now quiet.
Thin fingers rested on top of his head, not petting, but grounding them. Akutagawa’s silent way of conveying that he was ok with the physical contact.
“Anyone else would already be begging for mercy. Yet, I do not mind your presence,” Akutagawa said as if he were reading Atsushi’s thoughts. “A year ago, I never could have guessed this turn in my life, this deviation from everything I valued. Six months ago, I would have mocked the very idea I could feel this way. Let alone feel this way towards my most hated rival, towards Dazai-san’s perfect protégé.”
Atsushi twitched his ears at the mention of Dazai.
“Still, here I am.” His fingers began to drift lightly across Atsushi’s fur, tracing random patterns as he spoke. “So, I came to say goodbye to a random captive beast because seeking you out, saying these words to you, was beyond me. You do not owe me this, yet here you are: the foolish weretiger caring about lost causes.”
Akutagawa’s fingers stalled. “All of this to say, I am leaving Yokohama. Mori does not take kindly to weakness in his ranks, especially not if he deems that weakness a liability.”
Atsushi shifted his head, seeking Akutagawa’s fingers in his fur again.
“That is what I came to say.” Akutagawa’s hand disappeared completely from Atsushi’s head, and he growled softly at the loss. “Amazing how quickly that went without your interruptions.”
Atsushi snorted and pulled his head off Akutagawa’s lap. He wasted no time transforming back. He didn’t step away, instead, he stayed in Akutagawa’s personal space, blinking down into his dark eyes. “Don’t leave.”
Akutagawa’s breath hitched, but he didn’t look away. “Weretiger wha-”
With a single finger, Atsushi was able to silence him. It was non-threatening, just a single finger held between them, not even touching. It was proof of how much had changed between them. “It’s my turn to talk without interruption.”
Atsushi stepped to the side and took a seat on the bench, leaving enough of a gap between them to give Akutagawa his personal bubble back.
“Can I ask something first?” Akutagawa asked as Atsushi sat.
“Sure. Anything.”
“Why did you attempt to maul me at the event?”
Atsushi ducked his head, ashamed at his previous actions. He’d tried not to think too deeply about it, but now, with Akutagawa staring at him, expression once again guarded, he had little choice but to reflect. How could he do anything else after Akutagawa had opened up?
“I…” Atsushi frowned, eyebrows drawn together as he replayed the moment. “When you first came over, I had a strong urge to comfort you. The way you looked at me– and I lost control over the tiger’s instincts.”
With a sigh, Atsushi turned back to Akutagawa, finding him staring at him with raw intensity.
“Then you made that– that– foolish remark about how at least one white tiger didn’t hate you.”
“Not my exact words, I believe.”
“Close enough. And everything that we’ve been through sorta came rushing back. You died. Then you were back– and–” Atsushi shook his head. He didn’t want to think about everything that happened with Fyodor. Everything that happened after. How Akutagawa had avoided him once the city calmed down– though, now, he was starting to understand it a little. "–And I was angry.”
“I see,” Akutagawa said, painfully neutral.
“No. You don’t. I was angry. Frustrated. And I thought I lost control of the tiger again. At the time… I thought the tiger was trying to attack you, that it felt the same rage towards you that I did. Except… except those intense emotions weren’t towards you.”
Atsushi swallowed and looked down at his hands, unable to take Akutagawa’s stare any longer.
“When I volunteered for this, I knew I was putting myself in a cage. I could have left at any time, but it was still a cage. Still a barrier keeping me from what I wanted. The tiger wasn’t– I wasn’t– attacking you. I was attacking the glass cage keeping me from you.”
“So you could maul me, I presume.”
Atsushi shot him a sharp look. “I wanted to tell you I don’t hate you, but I couldn’t. I wanted to shake you until you saw sense, but the glass was in the way. I couldn’t do anything without blowing my cover, couldn’t let the zoo down when they were counting on me to help raise money. Trapped in a cage, and I could only watch you leave.”
Atsushi paused, looking down at his hands in his lap again. The silence stretched as he tried to pick his next words.
“Weretiger, for–”
“It’s my turn, remember? I answered your question.”
"...fine.”
Atsushi smiled softly at his hands before turning to look over at Akutagawa. “Here,” he patted his lap, “it’s harder to interrupt. And… It’s easier to talk if you’re not staring at me.”
It was a big ask, he knew. Akutagawa slowly blinked a few times, his shoulders and back rigid.
Without warning, Rashomon rushed from Akutagawa’s arms and from around his back. Atsushi braced himself for a strike that didn’t come. Instead of attacking, Rashomon pooled in his lap and along the bench. Nothing was said between them as Akutagawa slowly lowered himself along the bench, Rashomon shifting to give him a supportive cushion.
Akutagawa’s head was a pleasant weight on his thigh, and Atsushi smiled down at the sight. His face was angled out into the darkness, obscured from his view. It was better like this, easier to put words to things he’d tried to keep hidden from himself.
Tentatively, he placed a hand gently atop Akutagawa’s head. He felt Akutagawa tense for a brief second before relaxing completely with a soft sigh.
“I keep finding myself in cages,” Atsushi said, his voice low, barely above a whisper. It didn’t matter, Akutagawa was so close he could hear him regardless. “Some I put myself in, some that others have forced me into.”
“Weretiger–”
“Shush.” Atsushi slowly moved his fingers into Akutagawa’s hair, mimicking the not-quite-petting Akutagawa had done minutes earlier. “I don’t like being trapped in a cage. I spent most of my life in one, sometimes metaphorically and sometimes not. Even the agency, as much as I love it, is sort of a cage. I didn’t have many options back then.”
Akutagawa’s hair was soft under his fingers.
“I have options now. And, I don’t mind cages if I’m not trapped. Because it’s not really a cage, then, it’s temporary, an illusion of restraint. I could have walked out of the cage today if I wanted to, but I had a duty. I could leave the agency if I wanted to, but I have no reason to.”
His fingers stilled.
“Akutagawa, when I made that agreement with you, I was selfish. It was a silly attempt to get you to see the world differently, to approach your problems and your work with less anger, less murderous intent. I knew it was a long shot, and I am incredibly glad it worked. I never meant for you to lose your… job. I guess you were in a cage too, and I broke in without a full plan, without understanding just what I had asked of you.”
After a long moment, a soft sigh broke the silence. Akutagawa shifted slightly, rolling to his back so his face was looking up at Atsushi. Atsushi’s hand absentmindedly shifted with him, staying nestled in his soft locks.
“Weretiger, you didn’t just break into my cage. You tore through dozens of locks and left the door wide open in your wake. And it is time I willingly stepped out.”
Atsushi tentatively slid his fingers from the top of Akutagawa’s head to brush through the longer hair framing his face. He watched the locks flow through his fingers, marveling at not just the softness of Akutagawa’s hair, but at how soft the act itself was. Strange, how he’d never thought of doing this before tonight, never wondered how Akutagawa’s hair would feel against his fingers, never wondered if Akutagawa would allow him close enough to find out.
As the last of the locks fell through his fingers, Atsushi glanced at Akutagawa’s face. His eyes were closed for a brief moment before fluttering half open.
“It felt good when you did it,” Atsushi said in explanation, shrugging his shoulders.
Akutagawa’s eyes widened a fraction, and he averted his eyes, a tinge of color blooming on his cheeks.
“Stepping out of your– leaving the Port Mafia doesn’t mean you need to leave Yokohama.”
“It is not as simple as you seem to believe it to be. One does not simply leave the Mafia. Besides Dazai-san. The only real way to leave is through death. Some attempt to fake their death, but in the end, they are always found.”
“But, you did die.” Atsushi rested his hand back on the top of Akutagawa’s head. “Technically, shouldn’t that release you?”
Akutagawa opened his mouth, then shut it, brows furrowed.
“And, if that isn’t enough– who in the Port Mafia would even attempt to go after you? Chuuya-san, maybe, if Mori gave the order…” Atsushi shook his head. “Mori’s main goal is Yokohama. A fight like that… could level part of the city.”
“But in the end, the odds are not in my favor.”
“Dazai-san would–”
“He wouldn’t intervene.” Akutagawa pushed himself off Atsushi’s lap, drawing his Rashomon pillow back into his sweater.
“I would,” Atsushi said with as much conviction as he could. “And the agency would back me if it came to it.”
Akutagawa made an annoyed sound. “Leave it to you to turn a simple farewell into an ordeal.”
Atsushi sighed. “If you want to leave, then I’ll respect that. But, if you do, I’d like to stay in contact. Maybe… visit you?”
“You… fool.” Akutagawa’s voice was soft, resigned. leaned his back against the picnic table.
“If–”
“Were you not listening? Was I not clear enough, Weretiger? Why have you continued to extend kindness towards me when encouraging me to leave would bring you the most benefit? Visit me?” Akutagawa scoffed. “What benefit would that bring you?”
Atsushi leaned toward Akutagawa, invading his personal space once more. There was a slight flinch from Rashomon before the ability settled back into the sweater, as if Akutagawa was fighting the instinct to protect himself.
“You were not very clear. And, I don’t see any benefit to you leaving. I’d miss you. I’ve kinda missed you the last few months, I guess I didn’t realize how much until today.”
“Absolute fool of a wild beast.” Akutagawa closed his eyes. Rashomon bristled, but did not manifest. “It would be easier to fight you to the death.”
Atsushi didn’t have time to think of a response. Akutagawa shifted, angling his body towards Atsushi and leaned forward, closing the last of the small distance between them.
His pulse quickened as Akutagawa’s intention became clear. There was plenty of time to lean away, to shove him, to transform his legs and leap a great distance. He didn’t want to do any of those, his eyes transfixed on Akutagawa’s lips.
It was barely a kiss. Rough lips lightly pressed against his before Akutagawa retreated.
Atsushi’s lips tingled from the contact, and he dazedly brought his fingers up to them. Next to him, Akutagwa’s eyes were closed and his hands balled in his lap.
“I–” Atsushi swallowed, realizing he didn’t know what to say.
“I do hope that was clear enough for you.”
Atsushi hummed. “In what world is fighting me to the death easier than just kissing me?”
Akutagawa’s posture tightened, his shoulders stiffening, and Rashomon bristled again.
Atushi leaned his face towards Akutagawa, waiting for him to open his eyes and look towards him. When he finally did, Atsushi smiled shyly.
“Can I…” Atsushi trailed off and slowly, purposefully, brought his hand up to Akutagawa’s face, brushing aside the long strands of hair from his cheeks. He didn’t touch his skin, letting his hand hover centimeters away from contact while he waited for Akutagawa’s approval.
In answer, Akutagawa tilted his head, closing the small distance between them. His skin was cool under Atsushi’s hands, and for a moment the world narrowed.
“I find I do not mind your touch, Weretiger.” Akutagawa closed his eyes, pressing his cheek further into Atsushi’s hand. “Allowing you access to Rashomon in battle has made your touch strangely familiar.”
Atsushi smiled, his vision blurring as his eyes watered. He surged forward, dropping the hand from Akutagawa’s cheek to his back as his other arm circled him as well. He rested his chin on Akutagawa’s shoulder, making sure to keep the embrace loose.
Against him, Akutagawa tensed, sucking in a breath with a sharp hiss. Atsushi immediately started to drop his arms and move away, only to freeze when Akutagawa tentatively wrapped his arms around him as well.
He returned his chin to its resting place on Akutagawa’s shoulder and pulled him tighter against his chest. A light scent of bergamot and green tea enveloped him, and Atsushi buried his face in Akutagawa’s hair.
Akutagawa’s grip remained loose, unsure, but he didn’t pull away. When Atsushi inhaled against his scalp, he inhaled sharply. “Weretiger.”“Sorry.” Atsushi started to drop his arms and pull back, expecting Akutagawa’s loose hold to break as he pulled away. Instead, Akutagawa’s grip tightened. “Akutagawa?”
“I do not hug people,” Akutagawa said, his lips at Atsushi’s ear.
Atsushi held himself back from snarking, ‘then what is this?’ Instead, he held Akutagawa tighter. Would this be the only time he was permitted to do this? If it were, he wouldn’t ruin it, he didn’t want to let go just yet. Even with the thick sweater, Atsushi could feel how thin the body beneath it was. Thin, but not frail. Not weak. Atsushi slowly slid one hand down Akutagawa’s back then back up, feeling him, comforting him. Comforting himself.
“I’m so glad you’re alive.” Flashes of Akutagawa’s body limp on the boat. Unwelcome, and intrusive, thoughts. Atsushi squeezed his eyes shut, refusing to cry.
Akutagawa cleared his throat. “Gin will come searching for me if I do not return soon.”
Atsushi nodded against him, but neither moved to break the embrace. Around them, the quiet of the zoo was quiet was broken only by the occasional distant call of nocturnal zoo animals. Atsushi’s mind raced, yet slowed at the same time. He was caught between the quiet of the night and the weight of Akutagawa against him. For once, there was no pretense, no performance, just this fragile moment of connection, however fleeting it may be.
The crunch of a leaf a few feet away was the only warning they had. Atsushi felt Rashomon under him, reacting quicker than they could untangle themselves.
“I see you talked to your tiger, brother.” Gin appeared from the darkness.
Rashomon fell back into Akutagawa’s sweater once more as they both relaxed. In their moment of scrambling, they had let go of each other. Atsushi was pleased when Akutagawa didn’t continue to pull away further as they both turned towards Gin.
She was no longer in the flowy dress from earlier. Now, she was an assassin, dressed for her work with the Port Mafia.
“Gin.”
“You said you would be home before I left. I wanted to make sure you didn’t decide to leave early.” Her sharp eyes shifted to Atsushi, “Did you talk him out of it?”
Atsushi rubbed the back of his head. “I- uh- I was trying. But you know how he is, stubborn and all that. Ow-”
He rubbed at his shoulder where Rashomon had hit him. Instead of the sharp, flesh piercing, attacks he was used to receiving, this Rashomon tendril was blunted at the end. As he rubbed his shoulder, he couldn’t help but smile fondly.
“I will do what I deem best.”
Gin shook her head. “Well, Higuchi knows something is going on. So…”
Akutagawa groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I… will talk to her tonight.”
Atsushi frowned. “Can’t it wait until tomorrow?” The words came out softer than he intended, almost a plea. He wasn’t ready to let go. The feel of Akutagawa close, the weight of him against his chest, was… comforting, more than Atsushi had expected. His lips still tingled from their brief kiss, and he caught his eyes lingering on Akutagawa’s.
When Akutagawa didn’t answer him, Atsushi looked back at Gin, eyes pleading. She only shook her head and offered him a shrug.
“I will see you at home,” Akutagawa said, now looking at Gin. At the words, she visibly relaxed, a tension leaving her body now that she knew this wouldn’t be their last conversation before he left.
Atsushi remained quiet and still as Gin slightly bowed her head in farewell and disappeared back into the night. A familiar pull to act, to do something, anything, tugged at him, and he shoved it away, ignoring how it felt similar to the pull of the tiger.
Once again alone, they sat side by side for a while. Atsushi lost track of how long he stared into the inky darkness, each lost in their own thoughts. He didn’t want to move, didn’t want to leave.
“Weretiger.” Akutagawa’s voice was neutral.
“No.” Atsushi shook his head.
“I didn’t ask a question.”
“Asshole!” Atsushi shoved Akutagawa’s shoulder, careful to keep himself from activating his ability. “You-- you– You can’t just die-- then come back-- avoid me– then confess you– you like me– kiss me– and then leave!”
Akutagawa rubbed his shoulder but didn’t interrupt him.
Atsushi stood from the bench, fists balled at his side for a moment before he whirled around to Akutagawa. “The least you could do is use my actual name just once.”
Akutagawa shifted, bringing one ankle up to rest on his knee. “Thanks to you, Weretiger,” he said, lips twitching at the name, “I believe I have lost a rather important wager with Gin, and I am rather curious what made her so sure she was correct.”
Atsushi blinked down at him. “What?”
“Tell me, Nakajima Atsushi, what would you do if I challenged the very core tenet of the Port Mafia?”
Hearing his name fall out of Akutagawa’s lips sent his mind spinning. Despite having just told him to do so, he hadn’t expected it. He blinked at Akutagawa, who was casually leaning back against the table. He was trying to appear calm, but Atsushi knew his tells. The way his fingers pinched the hem of his sleeve, how his brow furrowed and unfurrowed, as if he couldn’t remember how his mask usually fell into place.
Atsushi swallowed, realizing Akutagawa hadn’t just said his name, he’d asked a question as well. “You mean… if you left the Port Mafia, but stayed in Yokohama?”
Akutagawa nodded.
“Idiot. I already told you.” Atsushi stepped as close as he could with Akutagawa’s leg propped on his knee and leaned in close. He brought one hand up to Akutagawa’s chin, holding his head steady as he stared into his eyes. “I’ll help you in any way I can. And maybe kiss you again. If you want that.”
Akutagawa leaned to rest his cheek in Atsushi’s palm. “That is something I find myself desiring.”
He lowered his leg, allowing Atsushi room to move closer. Atsushi wasted no time, leaning down to press his lips to Akutagawa’s, hand still cupping his cheek.
The kiss started tentatively, almost shy, lips pressing together lightly at first before turning more passionate. Atsushi’s heart raced, each brush of their lips sending tiny jolts through him. The kiss lasted longer this time, Atsushi trying to convey what his words could not. He felt a hand on his hip, firmly but gently pulling him closer.
Atsushi rubbed his thumb across Akutagawa’s cheek and pulled back, just enough to catch his breath.
“Sorry,” Atsushi laughed and leaned his forehead against Akutagawa’s, “I’m not really experienced with kissing.”
Akutagawa closed his eyes. “What a foolish thing to apologize for.”
Atsushi smiled and stood back, noticing the flush on his face. “Hey.” He waited for Akutagawa to open his eyes before holding out his hand. “Let’s go. We can talk more and figure out a plan.”
“Fine.” Akutagawa hesitated, but grabbed his offered hand, allowing himself to be pulled up off the bench.
A loud rumbling growl escaped Atsushi’s stomach as they stood facing each other.
“Perhaps we should eat first?” Akutagawa raised a brow but did not drop Atsushi’s hand.
Atsushi nodded and leaned over to grab the walkie-talkie off the table. He could return it tomorrow. Tonight, he would focus on Akutagawa and the new chapter of their relationship. There was so much to consider, so much still to say, to figure out. He squeezed Akutagawa’s hand as they started towards an exit. Atsushi allowed himself to believe that whatever came next, they would continue to face it together.