Chapter Text
“Vampires? In Yokohama?”
Kyouka nods, politely setting her chopsticks on her empty bowl. “Yes. Tachihara-san notified us. Higuchi-san and Gin-san have been infected, as well as Hirotsu-san. There are many other lower-level members who have been turned, as well as several citizens. Many higher members are unaccounted for. He has requested help with containing the virus.”
Atsushi leans back on his hands, blowing his bangs out of his face. “Vampires, huh? I didn’t think they were real.”
“With all due respect, you are a weretiger. I think vampires are not much of a stretch.”
Atsushi laughs. “That’s fair. Are we meeting up with the others?”
Kyouka nods again. “Yes. Ranpo-san and Poe-san will be meeting us with Tachihara-san. Nakahara-san will be coming with us. We will need to leave as soon as possible.”
Atsushi stands. “Then we should get going.”
Kyouka hesitates. “Will you...be finishing your breakfast?”
Ah. Right. Atsushi grabs his bowl, shoving the rest of the rice in his mouth. “Thank you for the meal!”
Kyouka smiles, grabbing the dishes and taking them to the kitchen.
Atsushi pulls on his coat, slipping off his house slippers and getting his shoes ready. The gentle pat pat pat of Kyouka’s footsteps stops. She stares at him with wide eyes.
“Ah...does it bother you? I don’t...I don’t have to wear it.”
“...No, it’s just…” Kyouka doesn’t finish, stepping into her geta instead. “Nakahara-san is waiting.” She gently pushes past him, opening the door. Chuuya is indeed waiting, just outside the door.
He says nothing but turns with a flourish of his coat and trusts them to follow him.
Atsushi listens as Tachihara briefs them on the situation. He glances at Atsushi’s coat several times, just enough of a pause to be obvious. But he says nothing. Atsushi also catches Ranpo looking at him but, like Tachihara, he says nothing.
“We’re just going to walk the streets and kill everything we see? Some of these are innocent people—”
Tachihara cuts him off: “They’re not people anymore. There’s nothing we can do to help them. We just need to make sure they don’t infect anyone else. We’ve evacuated the area but there may still be some stragglers. Keep an eye on how they move and don’t kill anyone you’re not sure about.”
Atsushi almost takes a step back. Tachihara...has a different air about him. Different body language. Different way of talking. When Tachihara looks to him again, his eyes are hard. Cold. Aware. Analyzing.
Tachihara’s more than he looks, it seems.
“Hirotsu, Gin, and Higuchi?”
Tachihara looks to Chuuya, shifting to something more casual. “Hirotsu pushed me outta there when Higuchi and Gin attacked. Lost sight of ‘em after that. Don’t know where they are.”
Chuuya nods once. “Edogawa and Nakajima, with me. Kyouka and Poe, with Tachihara. Use the radios if anything comes up.”
They break off into their groups and start walking.
It’s quiet. Tachihara said the streets were swarming, but Atsushi sees no one. Is this a trap? He catches Ranpo’s eye.
Ranpo shakes his head, just the tiniest bit.
Not a trap, then.
Okay.
Chuuya clicks his tongue. “What was that brat talking about? There’s nothing fucking here.”
Movement catches Atsushi’s eye. “Chuuya-san…there, up ahead.” Rounding the corner was a nondescript man, in the lower-level mafia getup. They move to the side, up against the nearest building. He hasn’t spotted them yet.
But following him are dozens more, civilians and mafia moving together like a zombie hoard.
“Okay,” Chuuya breathes out and hefts the box of bullets in his arms. “Let’s mow these motherfuckers down.”
Atsushi sags against a brick wall as the last vampire falls to the ground. “Chuuya-san...could you please be more careful with where you throw those things?” He rolls his shoulder — the wound has already healed, but it still aches.
Chuuya scoffs. “Maybe you shouldn’t get in the damn way.”
Atsushi rolls his eyes but lets it drop. This must be where Akutagawa got all his sass from.
Ah...Akutagawa…
As if his thoughts had summoned him, Atsushi sees Akutagawa standing down the street, face hidden by the shadows cast by the setting sun.
Akutagawa haunts him now, too. Just like the headmaster. Silent, hovering just an arm’s length away. Just out of reach. He says nothing, just like the headmaster, but unlike the Dazai-san that lives in his head. Atsushi’s tired. Worn out. It makes sense Akutagawa would appear to him now.
“Wait...is that…”
Ranpo hums. “Just as I suspected, then. This must be the source.”
Atsushi’s head jerks up. Chuuya and Ranpo are both looking down the street, at Atsushi’s vision of Akutagawa. But if they could see him, too…
“Akutagawa?” Chuuya grabs a handful of bullets from his box but Atsushi jumps in front of him. “No! No. Please. Please don’t.”
Chuuya hesitates. “You heard Tachihara. It’s not him anymore. We need to make sure he can’t turn anyone else.”
“No,” Atsushi shakes his head, “I can’t let you do that.”
Chuuya grits his teeth. “You fucking— you’re just as annoying as that fucking slug! Stop getting in the way!”
“Atsushi-kun!”
Atsushi turns just in time to block Akutagawa’s attack.
He...I didn’t even hear him? How?
He pushes Akutagawa away, who goes sliding down the street and immediately lunges again. He grabs Akutagawa by the arms and Akutagawa struggles — kicking and hissing and wriggling out of Atsushi’s grip until he has no choice but to let him go.
“Akutagawa! I know you’re still in there, somewhere! I know you are! We made a deal!” Akutagawa lunges again. “Please, just listen to me! Please!” Akutagawa gets a lucky shot and swipes Atsushi to the side like a rag doll. “What the hell? How is he so strong?!”
“The virus.” Ranpo is standing off to the side, his eyes open and watching every move. “It’s made him stronger. His body no longer has any cap on its strength — he can use all of it. Like he’s on a permanent adrenaline rush.”
Atsushi grits his teeth and brings out his claws. “Well then, I’ll just have to match that.”
The fight lasts longer than Atsushi wants to admit.
Akutagawa no longer has Rashoumon, but he’s also throwing himself at Atsushi blindly — thankfully ignoring the other two with him — and is completely unpredictable. He’s like a wild animal lashing out in fear.
Except he’s not afraid and he just wants to kill Atsushi.
Which….isn’t so different from the real Akutagawa, actually.
He’s a second too slow. Or maybe, he admits, he just didn't want to fight Akutagawa anymore, didn’t want to risk hurting him when he just got him back (except not really, this isn’t him, it isn’t, it isn’t, and Atsushi is still hoping it is). Or maybe, he knew words weren’t gonna be enough to bring him back.
All he can do is gasp, when Akutagawa bites into his neck. He can feel the venom enter his veins instantly, a searing heat that courses through his body. This is it. This is how he goes out.
He puts his arms around Akutagawa.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry I wasn't strong enough to save you. I’m sorry for wanting to save you. I know you’d hate me for it. I’m sorry I left you there. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Just, please….please come back.”
The heat fades. Akutagawa stills in his arms. He’s no longer biting Atsushi’s neck, but his face is still hidden in it. Atsushi falls to his knees, and Akutagawa goes with him.
He’s lightheaded, but he can feel his body already working to regenerate all the blood he just lost.
“You bastard. You held back.”
Atsushi’s eyes fly open.
“I can’t believe I just drank your disgusting blood. Why the fuck are you hugging me. And why the fuck are you wearing my coat.”
Atsushi lets his arms loosen and they fall to circle Akutagawa’s waist limply. He pulls back. Akutagawa lifts his head.
And he’s looking right at Atsushi.
That’s right. His eyes are silver. Like the moonlight. Silver. Silver, silver, silver.
“Why the fuck are you staring at me like that. Fucking— don’t cry on me, idiot! Gross!” Akutagawa tries to push away but Atsushi clings onto his shirt too tightly. “Stop that. Stop looking at me.”
Atsushi pulls his arms back, letting the coat slide off his shoulders. He settles it around Akutagawa’s instead, pulling it closed to hide the blood-stained shirt he’s still wearing. “I kept it safe, for you. I didn’t get a chance to give it back.” And I wanted to keep you with me, I wanted to remember you, I didn’t want you to slip away, I wanted to hold on to any part of you I could get—
“Gross.” But Akutagawa slips his arms through the sleeves and Rashoumon hums to life. The tears in the fabric repair themselves almost instantly.
Atsushi laughs, a little wet and a little disbelieving. “She’s back. Rashoumon is back. You still have her.”
“Of course I still have her. She’s my ability. Why the fuck wouldn’t I.”
“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I missed her.” I missed you, too.
Akutagawa picks up on what Atsushi leaves unsaid, but shows mercy and doesn’t comment.
“What the...how the hell…”
Atsushi looks up to see the other group had joined them at some point. Tachihara is looking at Atsushi with wide eyes. Kyouka is, too, but for a different reason. Akutagawa doesn’t look at her.
“Everybody, get your shit together. We need to get back and figure out what the hell just happened.” Chuuya claps once and walks back the way they came.
“It was Jinko’s blood. As soon as I drank it, my mind cleared. His healing ability must have transferred to me.”
Atsushi sits, next to Akutagawa (but at a respectable distance), while the others are all lined up on the other side of the table, Chuuya and Tachihara standing. He can feel his face heat up and he sees Ranpo smirk at him, but he keeps his mouth shut.
“Well, I guess we’ll just need to get the others to drink from him—”
“No.” Akutagawa grimaces. “Just...take a bunch from him and put it in vials. That way you all can have some to use if needed. That should be enough.”
“But will it still work if the blood isn’t in me?”
“It’s still your blood, isn’t it? What a stupid question.”
Atsushi throws his hands up. “Oh, I’m so sorry! I don’t know the exact ins and outs of my ability, sorry for asking a question, one that seems a little important.” He feels the growl in his throat but Akutagawa just stares at him with a blank face. A very stiff blank face. He turns away.
“It will be enough.”
Atsushi scoffs, sitting back in his chair forcefully. I can’t believe I thought I missed this asshole.
Atsushi stills.
“You damn fool...hurry up and go.” Akutagawa falling, blood staining the deck, staining his shirt, Rashoumon dying around him, the coat falling, just like Akutagawa, limp and lifeless —
Atsushi sucks in a breath and stands. “I need—” He doesn’t finish. He doesn’t look at the others. He doesn’t want to see the pity in their faces, the shame, the disgust, the dismissal, the—
He’s out the door and halfway down the hall before he takes another breath. He takes a few more turns, gets himself thoroughly lost, before he allows himself to slide to the floor. Hot tears flood down his face and he gasps for breath, choking on the lump in his throat, and all he can see is red, falling, deck, staining, limp and lifeless—
“What the hell, Jinko.”
He reaches out before he knows what he’s doing. His hand finds the familiar fabric of the coat and grabs it. Akutagawa stumbles from the force of it, falling to the ground beside Atsushi.
“You—!”
“You died. I saw you die. I watched him kill you. I couldn’t do anything. I—” he chokes on nothing and watches, distantly, as his tears turn the concrete beneath him dark. “For two weeks, I’ve been haunted, the same moment playing in my head, forcing me to relive it again and again and again, and now you’re here and you’re— you’re acting like nothing happened but I can’t—”
I can’t forget, I can’t forget watching you die, I can’t forget how hollow I felt, how empty the world was for those two weeks, how heavy this coat was on my shoulders. I can’t forget realizing I am possibly in love with you and thinking I would never be able to see you again and I can’t forget grieving you. And everyone is acting like nothing happened.
He takes in a deep breath and lets his hands fall. He looks up.
Akutagawa is staring at him, eyes wide.
“Oh God. I said all of that out loud.”
“You—” Akutagawa cuts himself off and stands abruptly, turning to escape down the hall. Atsushi grabs him, pulling him back down (careful, so very careful, to not hurt him).
“No! You don’t get to run away from this.”
“This is your problem, Jinko, I don’t need—”
“Can you be honest for once in your goddamn life?! Having feelings won’t kill you and neither will I!”
“No, I’m going to kill you —”
“You don’t have to!” Akutagawa shuts his mouth with an audible click. He’s refusing to look at Atsushi. “You don’t have to kill me. Do you remember what I said to you, when we fought Fitzgerald?” Atsushi takes in a breath, loosening his grip but still holding on. “Dazai-san already approved of you a long time ago. He trusted you for this, didn’t he? To find me, to fight Fukuchi with me. He trusted in your ability. He trusted in your skill. He trusted you...to do whatever needed to be done to take Fukuchi down. You kept your promise. To not kill. He trusts that you— that you can change. Become better. Stronger. To learn and use your head. He has to. Or else his plan wouldn’t work.”
“What does that have to do with anything you just—”
“I do, too. I trust you, Akutagawa. I shouldn’t. But I do. And you trust me. At least...you did. And that’s why— that’s why it hurt so much, I think. Because you trusted me with Rashoumon, you made yourself vulnerable, and it killed you. I killed you. I don’t deserve your trust. Not anymore. So if you want to leave, then you can leave. I won’t stop you.” Atsushi lets his hands fall back to his sides, letting Akutagawa go.
But Akutagawa doesn’t leave.
He sits there, on his knees, in front of Atsushi. Silent. Until: “It was Fukuchi who landed the killing blow. Not you. I forced his hand. Not you. And I decide who I do or don’t trust. Not you.”
Atsushi looks up. Akutagawa is looking down, off to the side. He clenches his teeth. “Even if ...I had any kind of feelings towards you...you’re the Armed Detective Agency. I am Port Mafia. End of story.”
Atsushi laughs. Akutagawa looks up at him sharply, snarling, opening his mouth to retort. But Atsushi puts a finger to his lips and silences him. “Poe-san was in the Guild. Chuuya-san is in the Mafia. But that isn’t stopping Ranpo-san and Dazai-san, is it? There was a man, once, in the Mafia. One who didn’t kill, right? Dazai-san called him Odasaku. And has anyone said anything about you not killing anyone these past few months?”
Akutagawa frowns, looking away. “...No.”
“Can you keep your promise, still?”
“What if...they’re really annoying.”
Atsushi laughs. “We can discuss on a case-by-case basis. For example,” Atsushi reaches out, the barest brush of his fingers against Akutagawa’s cheek, “you have my full permission to tear Fukuchi Ouchi to shreds if you get the chance. He has done...unforgivable things. Though you might have to fight me to do that, because I won’t hold back anything the next time I see him.” He leans in close, face just inches from Akutagawa’s. “I will rip his throat out with my teeth and make him watch,” he growled, low enough for only Akutagawa to hear.
Akutagawa lets out a breath and Atsushi feels his fingers tangle in Atsushi’s shirt. “You...are very attractive when you’re angry.”
“Is that why you always piss me off?”
Akutagawa hums but says nothing. His eyes are trained on Atsushi’s mouth.
Ah.
Atsushi licks his lips and watches as Akutagawa copies him. He smiles.
“Can I kiss you?”
Akutagawa nods, just barely. This close, Atsushi can feel the slight tremble in his arms, the line of tension running through Akutagawa.
Only one way to fix that.
Atsushi closes the gap, pressing his lips to Akutagawa’s gently.
He’s cold, colder than he should be, but he relaxes almost immediately, and presses back.
They part.
“I missed you,” Atsushi whispers against Akutagawa.
“If you keep saying sappy shit, I’ll skewer you.”
Atsushi laughs.