Chapter Text
Atsushi dashed out of the small Kiosk, his extremely Worn-out boots clacking against the asphalt as he ran towards Ranpo's apartment complex.
-"hm? Oh hi Atsushi, Did you buy the tea?"
Lucy stood in the doorway, tapping her foot impatiently while Junichiro waved from the kitchen and Ranpo was sat in the living room helping Kyoka with her homework.
Atsushi hesitated, realizing he forgot to buy the one thing he needed from the store as he scrambles to find his words
-"oh, no, sorry they were out."
Lucy rolled her eyes dramatically but lets him in, yelling something at Ranpo as Atsushi unties his shoes.
-"Why the hell would we have green tea?"
Ranpo yells from the living room, covering Kyoka's ears as he does so.
-"why wouldn't you have it? You have like three boxes of lollipops but not a single bag of green tea?!"
Lucy yells back, gesturing wildly at the pantry as she paces.
Their yelling-battle continues as atsushi walks into the kitchen, where the Tanizaki siblings are making food, (or basically just Naomi since Junichiro can't cook) the smell spreads through the whole apartment as he sits down next to Kyoka on the couch.
-"okay, according to Isaac Newton the weight of-"
Ranpo's voice fades as he zones out, thinking about his encounter at the kiosk.
His mind wanders back to that small contact, the way their hands brushed against each other? The way he had stumbled over his words? The way he had ran away embarrassed? Just thinking about it was enough to make him get butterflies and also want to crawl into a ball from embarrassment.
His daydreaming was interrupted by Naomi pushing a plate of messily made onigiri onto his lap, the rice ball barely held it's shape as Atsushi struggled to pick it up, but still gave Naomi a grateful smile before she walked back to her brother in the kitchen.
The onigiri tasted good, well of course since naomi made them, but he still gave most of it to Kyoka since he wasn't very hungry, more focused on daydreaming and stopping Lucy from beating up Ranpo.
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Akutagawa just stood there, watching as the shorter boy escaped out of the kiosk as his hand gripped the bag of tea, confused.
That wasn't even the last bag of tea? His mind wanders as he pays for the tea, his brow furrowing as his eyes scan the price of the tea.
Ten dollars just for a bag of tea? That's absurd...Who would pay that much for tea?
He walks out of the kiosk, the bag of tea laying comfortably in his bag as he makes his way to his house.
His dress shoes clacked against the narrow gravel road as he walked, his eyes following the russet leaves as they fall from the trees of the avenue.
He can't help but recall that silver-haired boy he saw at the kiosk, what's his deal? Does he have social anxiety or something?
The familiar click of his key unlocking the front door interrupts his rude thoughts and he steps in, hearing the low buzz of the old lightbulbs switching on as he ditches his school bag, creeping open the door to the kitchen.
The basically ancient (According to Akutagawa atleast) kitchen was more tidy than usual, he switches on the stove and places a kettle filled with water on top.
As the water boils he gets right into the rice, scooping up the last of the rice he ate last night and piling it into a small bowl which he had to hand-wash now that their dishwasher is broken, ugh.
He stares into the basically empty fridge, he had intended to put salmon on his Chazuke but that wasn't an option... Let see what he can pick from.
As his eyes scan the shelves he spots some tofu? Yuck, who even likes that? Sardines? Never. Mushrooms? Horrible texture.
But then his eyes catch onto the perfect topping, in the very back of the fridge he spots an unopened jar of pickled plums.
The rest of the recipe goes smoothly, he sprinkles the plums and various other toppings onto the rice and pours the tea on top, successfully making Chazuke!
He sits down alone by the dinner table, putting his legs up and sitting pressed against the corner, eating small scoops of his food, he was still in his school uniform, he couldn't bother taking it off since it was basically what he would wear every day anyways.
He liked the routine of wearing the same uniform every day, despite most of his classmates disagreeing, he couldn't describe it that well but that steady routine and familiarity of wearing the same clothes, doing the same things, and seeing the same people, was almost comforting considering how chaotic his life has already been.
Tachihara always went on and on about how he should be able to wear his biker jacket instead of this "Crappy fucking suit!" as he had put it, although Akutagawa personally thought his jacket was distasteful.
Though, sometimes he did wish he could wear whatever he wanted, I mean just take that odd public school across the street for example, they can wear whatever they'd like! Even if it is ridiculous.
I mean just take that guy he saw at the kiosk toda- wait... What was he even wearing?
He had that weird gray-ish hair, he had a strange black stripe in his hair and he had freckles, a lot of freckles.
No matter how much he thought about him, he couldn't remember what he was wearing, just more and more details on his face and hair.
He decides to just ignore it, running a hand through his box-dyed black hair before he starts washing his bowl.