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“This is stupid,” Akutagawa scowls, staring into the distance, but his dark grey eyes are dancing in the darkness of the night. Atsushi smiles, and takes his ice cold hand into his own, startling him.
“What are you doing?” he hisses loudly, teeth flashing dangerously, but Atsushi only grins back him, honestly having gotten so used to his repeated threats that he finds it not remotely disturbing anymore. “Nothing,” he answers innocently, moving his saffron-violet gaze back to look over the city.
It was wonderfully beautiful. They were sitting atop the Yokohama Landmark Tower, looking down the 73 floors over the city that they called home, filled with bright lights that didn’t feel artificial and rather familiar. The ocean bordered the buildings, and they could see the port terminal from here, where Atsushi could only guess the Port Mafia had gotten its name from. In the distance, they could see the dark silhouette of Mount Fuji.
“What do you think?” Atsushi says, expression elated as he looks at the usually stone featured Mafioso. Akutagawa meets his eyes squarely for a moment before looking away again, and mutters so quietly under his breath that if Atsushi didn’t have enhanced hearing, the wind would’ve snatched his words away.
“It’s nice.”
“I thought you’d like it,” Atsushi replies, hiding the happy breathlessness in his voice. He swings his legs over the edge and Akutagawa grips his hand tighter, as though he was afraid that the boy would fall. “Don’t do that,” Akutagawa snaps. “It’s dangerous.”
“Eh, you care about my safety?” Atsushi says teasingly, but his smile is genuine as he shifts himself to press against Akutagawa’s slightly taller, but not as filled form even as the man rolls his eyes. He wonders yet again if he’s eating enough, and frowns a little, but he doesn’t mention it for now, not disturbing the comfortable silence that had settled around the two.
“This is cooler than the view from the ferris wheel, isn’t it?” Atsushi contemplates after a while, gesturing with the heel of his foot at the Cosmo Clock 21, feeling a bit proud of himself for suggesting them to come visit the Tower at night. “Slightly,” Akutagawa answers, his mouth twitching with the small beginnings of a half-smile. “Good.” Atsushi declares, tightening his hold on the Mafioso.
Tomorrow they’d go back to their respective workplaces, tired but still determined, holding the memories of the night close at heart even under the whiteness of the sun.