Chapter Text
Akutagawa is annoyed.
He’s always a bit peeved during the day, but he has a warranted reason this time.
The line at the bank is too long.
It has been nearly thirty minutes. Thirty minutes of standing and shifting his weight from one foot to another. His joints and back are going to start to ache if he doesn't move or sit down soon. It’s barely afternoon on a weekday. Why has everyone chosen to come to the bank now? Already, three people have had tedious and unnecessary complications.
All Akutagawa needs to do is deposit a check.
Gin has told him that he can deposit it through a phone app now, but Akutagawa is perfectly happy with his current phone. A flip phone. It’s trustworthy for calls and calls only and that’s all he needs. Occasionally, there would be a text from Gin or Chuuya, but one word answers do the job just fine.
Anything longer could be an email. Chuuya and Akutagawa have been working together for years now, if Chuuya couldn’t figure out how to communicate with Akutagawa yet, then no one can.
He taps his foot against the tile. All he needs to do is deposit a check. Buy groceries. Then, Akutagawa could go home.
He’s grateful for the bonus, really. The extra money is appreciated, padding their bank accounts well during the holiday season. The two of them live comfortably now. They have a nice apartment with running water and a reliable heating system. Despite the two years there, the fact was hard to believe some days. The survival instinct of living frugally still lives within him from when he was a child. Even if they can afford it, looking at the more expensive produce and baked goods is a option he’s still learning. Gin knows that. However, this money is enough of a push to warrant him splurging and buying a little Christmas cake for the two of them.
But if the wait drags on for another ten minutes, Akutagawa might as well rip the check into a million pieces and give up.
“I can take whoever’s next!”
Akutagawa looks up from his designated stain on the floor. A young mother shuffles her two children up the open window. There are only a couple more people in line until his turn. He predicts it only being a five minute gap with the more experienced teller asking his last question.
He didn’t know how much time he could take in this damn bank. There’s a man standing far too close to him. Akutagawa can practically feel his hot breath on the back of his neck. Gross.
Did no one mind their business anymore?
“Put your hands up!! This is a robbery!!”
Apparently not.
A man at the counter pulls out a gun, pointing it precariously close to the teller’s nose. He keeps his voice low, “Open the safe and pull out everything you have and we won’t have a problem.” He wears an ill fitted suit with no mask to cover his face. The typical procedure is to cover your features to not be identified by the security cameras. Exposing himself like this was reckless and cocky–he’d only do this if he believed fully that he could get away with it.
Or he’s stupid.
“Y-yes, I can do that,” the teller mumbles, hands trembling at the computer.
“Good.” The shooter pounds the gun onto the counter twice. A signal. Two knocks echo around the room from multiple different patrons. Fuck, this man has a plan and he’s stupid.
Four people across the bank take out guns, tucked away in purses or coats; they’re surrounding the area. Two women and two men, all similarly dressed in a varying theme of business formal. Each person looking out of place with what must be rented suits and no masks.
In seconds, the crowd is sent into a frenzy, screaming and cowering into the floor. Akutagawa does his best to mirror and follow along with the other patrons in line. There have been times where his standoffish posture and his black clothing stand out like a splatter of ink against fresh paper. A clear target.
With the assailants’ next move, Akutagawa is corralled like the rest against the back wall of the bank. This time he would blend in and play his cards right.
As he always does.
A gunshot pierces the room.
The explosion rings through his ears, his eyes twitch in sensitivity. Which eyes–he can’t tell. There’s screams and cries from around him as people huddle closer together, hoping that the masses will keep them safe. The man at the front, taking the center stage, holds the gun to the ceiling. He lowers it and points towards them.
The crowd freezes like deer. Hunted and prey now.
“Cooperate and no one has to get hurt,” he growls, waving the gun back to the bank workers, “Lock the doors and shut the blinds! Call the police and I’ll shoot you on this very tile!” Ceiling dust sprinkles down on him like some confetti.
A woman holding a handgun in the back grimaces, “You’re going to blow our cover, Taro.” She doesn’t seem all too confident in their stupid plan. If one person on a team voices her doubts, there’s bound to be more in the rest of them. Five minutes had barely gone by and there were already tensions in their team.
There’s five of them, effectively surrounding the counter and the hostages. Even with their stupid plan and misalignment, Akutagawa still wouldn’t be able to take them all at once. Not without risking some lives.
“Shut up, Rose! It’ll be fine, just stick to the damn plan,” The man, Taro apparently, snaps back at her. He stalks over to the back room, leaving them alone. True to her name, she’s wearing a light pink pantsuit. Rose lifts her hands in surrender, but her face betrays her, disgust pulls at her features.
She glances over to another man holding a weapon, a signal, and he nods.
The man addresses the hostages with the other woman wearing white. He procures a black bag from his suit jacket and thrusts it in front of them. “Take out your phones and sit along the wall.” There’s obviously hesitancy among the crowd. A phone could mean a message for help, a way out, anything.
The man raises his voice, “Don’t make me shoot!”
A child from earlier starts to cry into his mother’s arms and people start to scramble to the front, dropping their phones into the bag one by one, afraid the child could set them off like a bomb. Akutagawa slips into the line and drops his phone in too.
There’s nothing he can say that would help comfort these people.
However, Akutagawa is more a man of action than of words. He can handle this fine. Akutagawa is going to need to take out two or three of them at once in order to get the upper hand. Once there’s an opening, he’ll strike his prey.
They won’t be held in here for much longer; he’ll make sure of it.
Akutagawa sits near the front. Akutagawa isn’t an actor in any way, but he can only hope his face doesn’t blow his cover from the rest of the civilians. There’s maybe around twenty people sitting at the back wall with him. Too many witnesses to risk killing any of them. But they’re not very smart bank robbers, he remembers. The last thing Akutagawa needs is injured hostages and bloodied floors.
It seems like a rogue gust of air could tip off their leader to get him to start shooting.
He catches himself looking over to the mother holding her two children close in her lap, rocking back and forth in an effort to soothe them. A brother and sister. How could you calm a child in a situation like this?
They all look close to tears again and Akutagawa feels his empty chest contract. The image touches something deep within him. He forces himself to look away.
Minutes pass. Maybe closer to an hour.
The shooters stand on look out, peeking through the blinds and making rounds through the building. Hushed conversations occur in the corner. Too far for Akutagawa to hear, but their faces don’t look very assured. To a civilian’s eyes, this team probably looks professional, practiced, but to Akutagawa–they look bored.
They probably weren’t expecting a withdrawal of this amount to take this long. However, money isn’t all gold bricks anymore.
Akutagawa wasn’t expecting to be in this damned bank building for this long either.
The silence of the bank is bitter and strained while their capturers whisper about. You could practically hear the sweat dripping from the tellers’ backs, their eyes darting around the building for some miracle, some way out.
With tall walls and dusty floors, the bank acts as everyone’s cage.
Akutagawa scans the room again. Two of the gunmen are standing at each side of the crowd, while the other two idiots patrol the long hall of the bank. If Akutagawa timed this right, he could disarm the guard closest to him and gain the upper hand. He wouldn’t even have to use his webbing, just tackle the poor fool.
But then–
Sirens. Akutagawa can hear the ringing echo from down the street. The other hostages look towards the window with hope in their eyes as the police sirens grow louder. A megaphone, muffled through the walls screams, “We have the place surrounded!! Surrender now!!”
Back in the main room, Taro throws an office chair at the teller counter, clattering obnoxiously against the plexiglass. Everyone jolts at the sound, going stiff at Taro’s entrance. That horrid tenseness is back.
“Which one of you called the fucking police?!” Taro roars, waving his gun about in every direction causing the children to whimper and cry.
One of the tellers speaks up, her hands shaking as she raises them over her head. “Please, don’t shoot! It must’ve been the emergency security alarm that alerted the police! It’ll send a notice for any irregular activity in the cameras!”
Taro shoves his way to the teller, pushing the gun onto her throat. “And you didn’t think to mention that?”
“Our location supervisor told us it’s never been alerted before. We always thought that feature wasn’t in effect! We didn’t know I swear, please, please don’t shoot,” she begs. He drags the barrel of the gun up the length of her neck before dropping it back to his side. The teller falls to her hands and knees, shaking and trembling as she holds her throat. An older woman next to her pulls her in for a hug.
The sigh of strained relief from the room doesn’t last long and Akutagawa wonders if he missed his chance.
There’s a huge crash, drawing everyone’s attention to the entrance. There’s no signal or warning from the police, no negotiations for the hostages or captors. Whoever they’re sending in either their ace or went in with no plan.
A skinny body goes tumbling across the floor, rolling on the shattered glass. He’s not wearing any bulletproof vest and doesn’t even look armed either.
Trigger happy assailants #1 and #2 immediately shoot at the man. Akutagawa mindlessly thinks that he would shoot him too. The bullets careen into the idle desks and chairs as the man ducks behind a desk, clearly panicked.
That’s the backup they sent?
Akutagawa tries his hardest not to roll his eyes. He’s a hostage, he should probably act like it.
There’s a yelp from the body as it rolls and dodges the bullets, crawling closer and closer with every shot. With this many bullets, Akutagawa is surprised there isn’t a mess of blood and guts on the tile yet. But with this new factor, it’ll be much harder to catch their assailants off their guard.
“Stop shooting! I’m sure we could all work this out! I’m sent from the Agency and you don’t have to do this an–”
Another bullet.
“Hey! It’s important to me that you…get the resources you need and I know you don’t want to hurt these people–”
Another bullet.
“And I think if we talked this through we could work this all out!”
The gunmen look annoyed at this point. Taro is screaming at the man, emptying case after case, and missing every shot. Their intruder is fast, even if he’s hopeless.
With everyone’s, assailant and hostage alike, attention on their new target of interest. No one is looking towards the hostages. After a shot, Akutagawa knocks a gun out of this woman’s hands with a subtle flick of his wrist. The webbing takes hold, throwing it across the room. Before she can react, another web is bound to her knees, tripping her to the ground.
Their other guard is quick, but Akutagawa is faster, diving and tackling him onto the tile. His hands and feet are webbed together with ease. Both of their guards’ mouths are webbed shut too. The assailants are effectively surrounded with Akutagawa and this guy at both ends. Akutagawa doesn’t know how the other can hold up against a gun, other than dodging it.
Behind him, the hostages are stunned and the children even start to cheer in the commotion before Akutagawa motions for them to be quiet. The other three gunmen don’t seem to notice the lack of commotion from behind them. Akutagawa makes his way over to the other side of the bank. He catches the other man’s eyes, filled with anger and confusion. One can expect that for an acting out hostage.
“Augh, stop!” the man yells, frustrated. He abandons the desk he’s cowering behind and walks out, seemingly ready for open fire. How peculiar.
“You made a mistake coming in like this, kid. I can’t forgive you for ambushing my job,” Taro sneers. He aims right for the man’s skull, a perfect shot from where he’s standing. Akutagawa could easily shoot out a web, stick every one of Taro’s limbs together, but there’s something in their target’s eyes that burns.
The burst of the gunfire is loud, whizzing straight for the man’s forehead.
But there’s no sick thump of a body or even a crack from the skull because this man has caught the bullet. Like it was no feat at all, the bullet sits in his palm. The crowd behind Akutagawa gasps, a few clap for him. Akutagawa cannot deny he’s vaguely impressed, but ultimately pissed off because man has proven useless at his job.
At a closer glance though, Akutagawa can see the hand that has caught the bullet is covered in fur. It’s no longer a human hand, but a paw. Huge white paws stand in place with black stripes weaving up to the elbow. Clearly, this man isn’t all human.
With every step the now fuzzy man takes, Taro grows more and more reckless with his shots. The man bounces between them, unafraid. “I told you to listen to me!” He tackles the leader head on, falling to the floor in a heap of limbs. “You’re under arrest!!”
During all this, Akutagawa takes the chance to sneak up behind the other assailant. Unfortunately, he doesn’t get far and is seen. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” The last assailant standing takes aim and Akutagawa doesn’t have the luxury of dodging the bullets freely with the civilians still behind him.
“Trying to deposit my paycheck,” Akutagawa replies. “You don’t seem to mind interrupting my evening, do you?” Akutagawa raises his arms in mock retreat, but he knows his body portrays an air of annoyance, too casual in the face of a gun. “Careful, you may turn your aggravated robbery charges into a homicide.”
As he predicts, the assailant wavers at the statement. His eyes flicker to the hostages and his tied up partners. It’s not a risk he’s willing to take.
Akutagawa takes the hesitation with stride, shooting his webs against the assailant’s arms and legs, effectively pinning him to the wall. He tugs and struggles in his new restraints, wailing, “What the hell is this?!” Akutagawa ignores him.
“Is there anyone here who can unlock the doors? I’d love to let you all go now,” The other metahuman asks nicely. Too nicely. That cheerfulness was certainly not present when he crashed into the bank.
The teller from before squeaks, “Yes, I can!” She looks at every gunman, now handcuffed or webbed together with fear in her eyes. “Are-are we safe now?”
Akutagawa coughs behind his hand. “Yes, go home,” he mutters. His simple answer is met with cheers and tears from the hostages, strangers wrap each other in tight embraces and reassuring words. The teller is pushed to the front with gentle hands and she scurries to the entrance with her key.
Covered in stray bits of glass, the other man strides up to Akutagawa. “Oh, you’re metahuman too? My name is Tiger. This robbery infiltration was my first test.”
“Clearly, I’m not sure you ever had a plan.” Akutagawa looks him up and down, his choppy bangs swept back and pinned to his forehead with sweat. He doesn’t seem to notice the pricks of blood down his arms from the glass. “You seem more man than cat, weretiger.”
Tiger frowns, “I did have a plan. You shouldn’t have jumped in. You were a hostage and that could have gone really bad. It was dangerous.”
“You don’t know what I’m capable of,” Akutagawa scowls, his fangs throbbing lowly with anger. “How presumptuous.” If this Tiger aims to swoop in to take Akutagawa’s win and coddle him, Akutagawa is having none of it. The disgusted concern on the Tiger’s face is enough to convince Akutagawa.
Rookies.
“Thanks for restraining the other robbers,” Tiger spits.
“Of course, I had it handled first,” Akutagawa snaps.
The Tiger opens his mouth to throw another insult at Akutagawa, but he doesn’t get the chance. One of the officers questioning Taro calls him over with a shout. Akutagawa upturns his nose and leaves to retrieve his phone before his mood is dampened even further. He’ll be generous and let Tiger deal with the new mass of police barging their way into the bank.
Or so he hopes. Working with the police is Akutagawa’s least favorite part of his job, if one could even call it a job.
“Sir, could we get your statement on how you took these robbers down?”
His luck has never been good. Standing in his way is an overeager policeman with a tiny notebook. Akutagawa clicks his tongue in dismissal. “No, I’m sure my account will match the rest of the eye witnesses here.”
“Wha–”
With his hand raised, Akutagawa cuts the man off, “I have better things to do like a police report. I can send a statement later if your station is so utterly desperate for my word.” He shuffles forward, ignoring whatever string of complaints spit from that man’s mouth. Akutagawa easily finds his phone in the pile of tech and ignores the stares lingering on the back of his head.
His job at the bank is far from over.
“Excuse me, I would like to deposit my paycheck,” Akutagawa asks the teller who stands in a group.
The young woman whirls around, clearly surprised to see him again. “Oh, I’m sorry, sir. The computers will be down until tomorrow, but you can deposit your check through your phone!”
“I cannot do that.”
“It’s very simple! If you have the app, I can show you how to do it here,” she offers.
Akutagawa takes out his flip phone and the bank teller falters where she stands. She hesitates, making a face that resembles a bunny twitching its nose. She sighs, “Do you know your username and password?
“Of course, I’m not an idiot,” Akutagawa scoffs.
She waves her hands across her face defensively. “No, no, of course not. A lot of people struggle with remembering theirs.” The teller pulls out her phone. “I’m not supposed to do this, but you saved our lives today so the least I can do is let you deposit a simple check.” She swipes and clicks on applications that Akutagawa can’t recognize.
It’s a hasty couple of minutes where she has him log in on her phone and takes a picture of the check, huddling close to Akutagawa, trying not to let any of the other patrons see. Something tells him she’s not supposed to help him at all.
Later that evening, with the check deposited and the bank robbery behind him, Akutagawa returns home with his hands filled with groceries. Their apartment has been long overdue for a trip but he didn’t think it was this bed until he was half way through the list with a decently filled cart and he still hadn’t picked up Gin’s favorite juice yet.
Even with the excess groceries, Akutagawa has no trouble walking home in one trip. His enhanced strength is a great bonus during grocery days. Akutagawa balances the pack of toilet paper, eggs, and bags of produce on top.
He’s exhausted from today. His day “off”. Chuuya doesn’t exactly give them days off, it’s closer to the fact that nothing is assigned. As much as Akutagawa would rather be on the field, he’s grateful for the time to buy groceries.
It’s still a productive day in Akutagawa’s mind. He knows Chuuya will force both him and Gin for a brief break for the holidays. Akutagawa will take the productivity while he can.
After several flights of stairs and a fumble with a tube of toothpaste, Akutagawa makes it to their apartment door.
The door which he has no available hands to open with.
Great.
Akutagawa takes a quick look down both sides of the hallway. The last thing he wants is to add scaring his neighbors onto his already long list of grievances today.
He straightens his back and feels the muscles at his side flex and relax at his intent. It’s strange how normal the sensation has become in his daily life. Just a simple stretch now. Concealing his meta-human features has always been a feat, not wanting to cause a scene or explain at every public appearance, but the routine of it all is welcomed these days.
The skin at his sides warps and stretches until bone wrapped muscle pokes through. Fingers. Soon enough, more and more of himself eases out of his flesh and slides through the convenient slits in his coat.
They sit under his rib cage, black splotches mark the pale skin. To the unknowing eye, under a shirt they’re unnoticeable there’s no bump and texture to signify he would even have another set of arms. Despite how gruesome the transformation looks, it’s relaxing. He can never feel the extra bones of those arms, but the knots and aches in his spine are very real. That part of him always wants to break free and rip him apart from the inside.
But Akutagawa does his best to keep the spider under lock and key, his body a cage.
Akutagawa adjusts the groceries evenly amongst three of his hands before gently opening the door with his last hand. He throws it open in victory.
Their apartment is quaint. Gin insisted on decorating a bit: the first place of their own and Akutagawa couldn’t deny the appeal of it. One might think their apartment is boring with all the dark colors and touches of light florals, but Akutagawa likes it. It’s home.
The groceries are carefully spread out onto their kitchen island. There’s much to be done before he can start on whatever “dinner” he decides. He shucks off his coat and takes a deep breath—
“ Brother ,” a voice cuts through the dark apartment.
Akutagawa crosses one set of arms, setting the other on his hips. He should’ve sensed her presence easily, but the idea of their frozens melting was at the forefront of his mind. “Gin? I wasn’t expecting you to be home so early.” Akutagawa takes in her silent silhouette in the shadows and waves a scallion stalk in her direction. “What exactly are you accomplishing sitting in the dark like that?”
He doesn’t mention the term she called him then. Much like when parents call their children by their full names when in deep trouble, orphaned, Gin and himself use the most formal titles available to them. Brother and sister. It’s old fashioned, but it strikes fear all the same. The first time was when Gin had brought over a boy in the middle of the night. Akutagawa was furious, all six eyes aglow silver in the dark, fangs bared. But it only ended up being a friend, someone who needed a place to crash after a job with Gin.
That first impression became quite memorable for Tachihara.
Akutagawa doesn’t regret his reaction at all.
Gin steps into the kitchen light, her arms crossed sternly over her chest. She’s already changed into a sweatshirt and her pajama pants; she must’ve gotten home hours ago. Gin hums, “I saw you were on the news.”
Realizing her conclusion, Akutagawa groans, “I did not rob the bank. I was merely trying to deposit Chuuya’s check and was forced to handle things.” One set of his arms fusses with all produce, separating them out into groups.
She seems to relax at Akutagawa’s honesty and sits down at the kitchen island, opening a box of crackers. Akutagawa wordlessly opens his hand for a couple. Gin chews on the snack and his words, “Good.”
“I’m worried my own sister would think so low of me. Bank robbery is so beneath me and my work,” he teases. Akutagawa isn’t lying though and is aware Gin knows it too; an armed robbery with hostages seems all too flashy for his taste in crime. “Although, I would have been much more successful,” Akutagawa mumbles under his breath, covering the comment with the noise of grocery bags rustling in his hands.
It doesn’t go unheard. Gin makes a face.
“Please, Gin, you should have seen them. A team of five armed assailants could not have failed more pathetically,” Akutagawa pleads. His head throbs at the memory of it.
“Five?” She parrots.
He nods. “I’ve never seen such a shaky and uncooperative team. Perhaps, have a plan, don’t you think?” Before his sister can respond, the anger spills from his lips. All four of his arms raise in exasperation. “And another thing! If the police are to send backup from the agency, why not send someone with more experience and not fresh out of training and preschool?!”
His anger does nothing to sway Gin’s interest. “A rookie?”
“That’s a generous word to describe him. He came crashing through the window with nothing but his big mouth. Lucky enough that I could use him as a diversion and web four of the five assailants,” Akutagawa scoffs. He turns to put juice and milk in the fridge. “It’s incredibly believable that this was his first test.”
“Well, how was he?” The smile in Gin’s voice is grating. Akutagawa frowns harder.
“An absolute fool! A completely reckless and idiotic fool with no strategic or self-preservation!” Akutagawa whips around, slamming his hands on the counter.
“But…” she trails off.
Akutagawa knows exactly what she’s getting at. He stares at his hands, avoiding Gin’s gaze. Akutagawa presses on, “He…ran into open fire and caught a bullet with his hand. It was, in his own idiotic way, impressive.” The image of Tiger holding the bullet is seared in his mind, it’s captivating. Praise feels like acid on his tongue, but it’s honest. Or as honest as he’s willing to go for a first impression.
“Sounds interesting,” she comments with a twinkle in her eye.
“Gin, please no,” Akutagawa grumbles and Gin only laughs, standing up to help prepare vegetables for dinner.
It’s hours later as he’s laying out his pajamas for the night when there’s a soft knock at the door.
“Come in,” Akutagawa answers.
Gin peeks her head through and slides into his room. “I forgot to give your prescription earlier.” She waves a white paper bag in her hands.
“Ah, thank you, Gin,” he replies. Akutagawa pauses as he takes the package; there’s a blank sticker plastered along the front. He raises an eyebrow.
“I found a coupon,” she explains.
Akutagawa hums in acknowledgement. Picking up a prescription is sporadic and even then Akutagawa does his best to stretch the pills out over the month despite Gin’s protests. With their irregular income, it becomes another number to keep a close eye on. “For how much off?”
“15%”
Turning to Gin fully, Akutagawa blinks back his surprise. “Fifteen? Quite a good deal, indeed.” Usually if they’re lucky they are able to find coupons for 5% for his prescription.
“I thought so too. Get some good rest, Ryunnosuke. Tomorrow, we’re going out.” Gin smiles wide. It’s not a suggestion.
Akutagawa’s lips flatten into a thin line. He agrees anyway, “Yes, I’ll be ready.” Tomorrow is the start of their time off and Gin is determined to celebrate the holidays properly. He isn’t sure what that entails since Gin has been keeping their plans to herself. It’s a worry for tomorrow though. They tell each other good night and Gin leaves for her own room.
Medication, pay checks, and grocery shopping. It’s all so domestic. Akutagawa supposes every person needs food and an earning, no matter the job or lifestyle. He rotates the nondescript bottle in his hand. With daily routine, comes the daily pain.
The pain isn’t excruciating on a day to day basis, but it is a constant. His back begins to ache after long periods of sitting or standing. His gums, forehead, and cheekbones spare him no mercy in pain either. Pills help subside his aches into something more manageable everyday.
Akutagawa sets the pill bottle on his night stand for the morning and crawls into bed. His secondary arms crossed over his chest, guarding his heart.