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Chapter Text

Atsushi wakes up feeling cold and stiff, as if his joints and muscles were burning, rebelling against every movement and Atsushi's very existence paining him. 

It's strange and he doesn't understand why his body hurts the way it does, as if they were screaming. He tries to move, but everywhere hurts and the pain persistently stays. There's a sharp stabbing pinprick-like pain that keeps making itself known with every move he makes and Atsushi struggles to move from the sprawled position he's in. 

He doesn't remember what happened last night to cause such pain. There's a loud ringing in his ears and the last thing Atsushi remembers is going to bed perfectly fine. He opens his eyes and he's in an unfamiliar surrounding, definitely not the comfort of his home and he can't quite comprehend what's going on, but he's endured worse pains in his lifetime, especially since working for Armed Detective Company.

With difficulty, he forces himself upwards.

Atsushi attempted to push his body weight onto his hands as he tries to hoist himself up and as expected, every muscle disagreed with the force. All he could register was the agony he felt from the aching muscles. 

Instead of laying on the cold, harsh floor, he was now sitting, albeit, more like he was kneeling, but it was an upgrade from his initially awkward position.

The pain started slowly to lessen and subside throughout time, but this time another pain striked. This time, it was his stomach that seemed to have been affected. It was as if something was pushing against him.

This pain-- it was far different from any other pain.

It was a hunger pain. He knew it far too well from living in the orphanage, but it was strange. He hadn't felt these pains, not since years, not since he met Dazai that day and he was at his hungriest. 

Feeling unsettled, he slowly began to start observing his surroundings. This wasn't the room he had gotten accustomed to either. His eyes flickered around the place. 

It was a shabby room, it was dark, dreary, and cold. It was close to being empty, sans the cage he was currently residing in. There were no windows and the only source of light was from the dimly lit candle that rested on the floor on the other side of the cage, and it was so small that it seemed as if it could be snuffed out just by the slightest of movements.

It was strange, it was if-- 

He pales. This whole ordeal seemed so familiar to him, like a rush of deja vu, a memory that Atsushi has not thought of for a long time since his new home. He clenches his hands into a fist and he starts shaking. It's been so long and yet, he's still scared stiff and silly. His hands trace over his stomach and he clenches his eyes shut in a panic.

He could feel cold sweat forming and his mind's a clutter. 

It looked so much like the orphanage. He could practically remember every detail. Every pain, every hateful words that were sent his way, the loathing eyes of everywhere.

His physical pain ebbs away as he was distracted with the memories of the pain he had to face in this wretched place. Atsushi slowly forced himself up to a standing position, his muscles groaning, but he ignored it, pushing the pain to the back of his mind.

For how long he stood there, mind reeling and at a standstill, he did not know. Minutes passed by as Atsushi's eyes flickered around the place, inwardly feeling agitation and trepidation rolling off him.

Atsushi was at a loss for what was happening. He didn't know where he was, he didn't even know if his friends knew he was missing yet, and he was at this place, all alone.

The place that should've been gone by now. He didn't understand how he was back here, back into this horrible place.

He has to get out. 

He doesn't know who brought him here, but he doesn't want to deal with this. Not when the very sight of this place practically brings him to his knees.

He runs over to the front of the cage and does the first thing that comes up into his mind. His mind, almost as if on auto-pilot, subconsciously wills his hand to turn into a claw. His hand instantly turns into a claw, but the sensation is weird, different from the usual feel. He couldn't help, but look at his hands.

One hand was currently taking a tiger claw form, but it was small. Too small compared to his previous claws. He looks at his other hand, which was completely human and tiny. 

He looks down at his body and he found himself with a predicament. He was so tiny. He also was wearing clothes different from usual, it was a dirty cloth, covered in dirt, grime, and blood. 

Everything was confusing him. His mind can't wrap around everything, he tries to process the events that had unfolded. He woke up here with pain sprouting everywhere and in dirty rags and a tiny body.

He had to escape, go to his friends, they'll fix him everything will work out, he just had to--

The door opened.

It was dark, with a not very luminous candle, and he couldn't see anything and could merely hear. They were footsteps. Slow and challenging as it casually walked up to the middle of the room, sounding staccato and sharp to Atsushi's ears, until they stopped.

The sound of a click reached Atsushi's ears and suddenly, the whole room lit up to reveal his headmaster, chain in hand from the pull-chain light. Atsushi could feel the blood rushing to his head, fear erupting in him, coupled with hate and disbelief.

His grey eyes shook Atsushi to the core. He looked at Atsushi with a taut expression and his eyes wandered over to the clawed hand, and his eyes widened in slight surprise.

"It's not the full moon today." The voice is cold and filled with contempt.

Atsushi all but freezes at the voice. It's been years since he heard it, but he could recall it even without seeing his face. He's not supposed to alive, what is he doing here? Was he dreaming? Dead people don't talk, don't look at him with such hatred. It's impor-

Those eyes pierce into him and he can't move. He can't think, can't do anything. Once again, he's helpless.

He clenches his fist until his palms hurt from the nails digging into it and starts to shake uncontrollably. It's impossible. He can't be alive. He had to be a figment of his imagination, like last time, Atsushi reasons with himself. His mind knows it's the logical reasoning and yet, he continued to shake in terror, mingled in with the taste of fear, something he hadn't felt this badly in a long time. 

"Are you afraid?"

The tiger in him roared.

Atsushi woke up in the same disposition as last time, except this time, his hands and feet were chained to the bars of the cage. He now had new injuries, particularly one on his arms and shoulders. He must've turned wild and attempted to escape by slamming against the cage.

The headmaster wasn't there and the lights were off and the candles were burnt out. It was dark and the only thing he could do is helplessly pull on his shackles. 

His mind was still reeling with the past events. He doesn't understand what happened. First things first, he had to get out of the chains. Get out of here, go to his friends. 

After a good few solid minutes of pulling and his wrists and ankles suffering bruises, he switched to a different tactic. 

He closed his eyes and tried to concentrate despite the panic he felt. His hands and feet transformed into one of a tiger's and the rough metal formed cracks from the pressure and using as much strength as he could muster, he tried to pry it open from the weakened state of metal.

And it did.

He was free. It was only a slight fleeting joy, but this was the only good thing that happened to him so far.

He turned his attention on the bars that surrounded him and to the best of his abilities, attempted to pry them open. But he was weak, hungry, and he wasn't as strong as he used to be.

Helpless. He was so utterly helpless. He could try picking the padded lock, he supposed. He was taught by Dazai during a mission, but he didn't have anything on him at the moment.

His fingernails. The tiger claws were unusually sharp and long. He practically hugged the bars as he tried to pick it open.  

What was it again--? Attempt to push open the right springs and-- 

The lock popped open. The chains that the lock secured in place fell onto thr ground with a loud noise and Atsushi quickly opened the cage door znd got out. He was free. 

He wasted no time and he ran over to the door. He was a bit too short to reach the doorknob, so he had to jump. It was the strangest of feelings, but he ignored it. He first had to escape this place. 

It's been awhile, some memories were hazy, and so was the map of the orphanage. He wandered through the halls a bit hesitant. Sure enough, he soon found himself lost.

Panicked, his walking pace turned into a sprint as he walked through various of halls and prayed he got lucky. Fortunately, his running around did pay as he smelled a whiff of the aroma of food.

It must be the kitchen. 

He ran towards the kitchen and opened the door as discreetly as possible.

No one was there.  

It was a familiar sight. The small kitchen that was practically empty. The only things to eat were vegetables and fruits; meat was a luxury back then.

He could almost remember the amount of times he had cut himself trying to peel a potato or when he burned hiself from the boiling hot water. He winced as he faintly remembered the punishment he had received for his mistakes. 

He unconsciously reached out to his arm, which was healed now, and lightly grasped it. He tried to ignore the phantom pains.

He shook the memory out of his head and looked at the exit across him with steel resolve.

The kitchen and the door across him led to the dining hall. He remembered, right at the end of the dining hall was a door that led to the outside.

They arranged meals to be eaten here, so afterwards, the kids could get straight to work with the chores outside right after having their fill, like tending to crops. 

He needed to get pass the table of kids and adults. It wasn't as if he wasn't stealthy, he's done enough missions to help his initially clumsy self, but he was nervous. He wasn't usually the type to work well under pressure.

Taking a deep breath, he walked slowly over to the door and opened it as slowly as possible, inch by inch, holding his breath. It opened a little more than a quarter way before he was able to fit his frame through. 

He hid behind the shadows of the room and prayed no one looked this way. He noticed a drawer and without thinking, jumped behind it.

He hid behind an old wooden drawer with an ugly bright orange empty vase. He had to get their attention away from him. Atsushi's eyes wandered over to the ugly vase and quickly snatched it. 

His hands gripped it tightly as his heart pounded loudly that he could hear it. He had one shot. He threw his arms back and steeled himself. 

He threw it a great distance away from the drawers to the right and all heads turned as Atsushi ran to the left and made a dash for the door. 

He passed the kids that were eating their supper so fast they were almost like a blur. But the aroma still reached his nose and fueled his hunger.

God, he was hungry. When was the last time he ate? It was yesterday with Dazai, his treat, but it feel like eternity. His stomach kept clawing at him in the inside.

He hurriedly rushed to the exit, and pried the door opened, but no one noticed because they were all focused on the fallen vase.

***

When was the last time he had left this place?

Years ago, when he was kicked out for ruining their crops, he had been forced out of those doors. But now, he's escaped from his own accord. It somehow feels like freedom.

Atsushi rolled onto the green grass and the dark starry night sky, away from the orphanage.

Freedom. 

He felt giddy with joy as he ran until his feet were sore. He couldn't help, but laugh. His running now turned into a leisurely walking pace. Free.

He never really thought he'd really free himself from the memories of the orphanage--

But that brings him to his previous predicament. Why was he stuck in this tiny body? Why was the headmaster alive? Was this some sort of time travel thing he heard in books?

The Armed Detective Company. They could help him. He just had to go there. To his friends. He lightened up at the thought of his friends, an improvement from his gloomy attitude and troubles that was weighing on him. 

That's right.

Kunikada or the president would somehow fix this, Dazai would laugh and everything will be fine. He'll have something to fill his empty stomach with Kenji, everything will be resolved and this whole incident would be just another memory. 

He bit his lips, took a deep breath, and set out on his journey. He survived living on the streets, starving, once.

He could do it again. 

Chapter Text

Atsushi was starving.

How had his past self dealt with this intense pain.

His stomach was aching and gnawing at his insides. Atsushi clutched it to alleviate some pain, but it just replaced the pain for another and he was feeling particularly faint from the lack of substance. The last thing he had eaten was an apple that had rolled onto the ground, out of one of it's crates in a street market. He had made a run for it, with apple in hand, but that was three days ago. He hadn't had anything since.

The Armed Detective Company was a solid six day's journey away from his orphanage on foot. Especially in already such a tiny body like his, one that was malnourished and so weak that couldn't barely see straight, he barely put a dent into his journey.

He had walked for majority of the journey, he expected to reached the company in two days or so. That is if he lived long enough to reach the place. As if on cue, his legs gave out on him and he fell to the ground grudgingly. He could feel the fatigue and hunger getting the better of him. He could survive for a few more days before he had to eat, Atsushi figured.

He could just sleep off the pain. He was just tired anyways.

It was conveniently nighttime, not much people roamed the place and he had the streets to a himself, excluding the few night-dwellers and other street rats. 

He passed through a couple houses before finding an alleyway. It was a rather shabby town, many narrow alleyways and this one was particularly empty, nice enough to settle down in. 

Atsushi kicked away some garbage away, tentatively sitting down, and leaned his head against the wall. Atsushi made himself comfortable, -- attempted to at least-- leaning against the jagged brick walls, or as much as one could on the streets, and tried to let sleep overcome him. He had no such luck. The hunger was too much for him. It was strange normally he'd be out like a light, despite starving for days even longer than today, so why was he having difficulties now? He chalked it up due to the excessive amount of walking he had to do and could only count his losses. 

Sighing, he got up and walked out the dark alleyway into the moonlight, only to bump into a man that had been passing by. He normally would've been able to sense him with his acute tiger senses, but he was much too distracted, too tired and hungry to care. As a result of his carelessness, he was shoved backwards.

He fell to the floor and landed on his back, hitting his head slightly on the pavement. He let out a little cry of pain, coupled with surprise; the pain was ringing throughout his back and head. Now he was hungry and hurting. Not that that was ever a new combo for him back then. 

"Ah, sorry. I didn't see you there, kid." The other man got up and walked over to Atsushi. "You all right?" The question was asked gently for such a gruff voice. 

He looked up and he was met with grey-blue eyes staring back at him. The man looked young with messy red waves for hair, clad with black dress pants, a dark collar-up and a beige-colored coat. He held out a hand and offered it to Atsushi.

Hesitantly, Atsushi took it. The man clasped it tightly and lifted him up. He lightly smiled at him as Atsushi dusted himself up.

He paused for a second and game Atsushi a once over. "How about I make it up to you. Are you hungry kid?"

***

The mysterious man had taken him to a restaurant. The only restaurant still open late this night was some small shabby place with a shifty owner who kept giving them suspicious glances, but after days of eating nothing, Atsushi found this place to be a godsend.

Atsushi, himself, ordered a bowl of chazuke, while the man had ordered nothing, but simply settled on a cup of tea. He sneaked looks every now and then at Atsushi between sips. Atsushi wordlessly ignored it, eating his food with a ravenous appetite and vigor.

"So, what's your name?" The man finally spoke. 

Hesitantly, Atsushi answered back. The man hadn't given him any reason to be suspicious of him. "Nakajima Atsushi."

"Well, I'm Oda Sakunosuke." He paused to take a sip of his tea. "So, where you from, Atsushi?"

"From an orphanage in the countryside," Atsushi answered, focusing his eyes on his bowl. He wasn't all that thrilled to speak of a place that brought such memories within him. 

The man-- now dubbed as Oda in Atsushi's head-- just made a noise of acknowledgement and, thankfully, didn't bring up the orphanage. "You know, I have a place you could stay if you don't have one."

Turning his attention away from the bowl of chazuke and onto the man, he widened his eyes in silent surprise. Oda looked casual about offering something so big to Atsushi. 

What a good man, Atsushi thought. He inwardly wished he had met this man when he was younger-- when he was physically and mentally younger, anyways. But he had a family in the Armed Detective Company now.

"Sorry, I have somewhere to go."

"Oh? And where is that?" 

 Atsushi clenched his fists and looked at the half-empty bowl, before bringing his back up so his gaze matched Oda's. "...Home."

Smiling lightly, Oda drank the last of his tea and set it down. He fished through his pockets and took out a fistful of yen bills and set it down on the table. He got up and ruffled Atsushi's hair. 

"Go make it home to your family." 

Atsushi's lips stretched into a grin. "Yes, sir."

This was it.

The neighborhood that he vividly remembered-- or he thought he vividly remembered. Somethings were new and somethings were the same, and some were just utterly differently. 

Atsushi didn't know what to think. Maybe he really did go back in time. He had been clinging onto the hope his body just shrunk by someone's ability and Dazai could nullify the side effects. He had also figured the whole orphanage thing was thanks to someone's ability. Like Edgar Allen Poe's ability to transport people into books.

The sinking bubbling of his stomach wouldn't go away. He had made excuses in his mind, anyway to dispute the fact that he traveled back in time, to the time where he had no one.

Panic built up in him as he nervously went through the crowds of people, looking at the different signs. No way everything changed so fast, unless he really did go back in time.

There was only one way to find out. 

By going to the agency. 

He passed some people, went through familiar routes, and tried to make sense of the town he had come to memorize-- which turned out to be pretty useless, because all that information was utterly useless. He couldn't find his way around and he was hopelessly lost. 

He went around asking people about the company, but all he received were confused looking and shakes of heads.

It was confusing.

The Company had a rep, albeit a bit shaky with their members going around wrecking havoc, causing buildings to be torn from their fights sometimes, but it was a rep nonetheless. The fact that no one knew the Company left a nervous stirring in his stomach.

No way, did he really go back in time? To the time where he had no one?

Where home was on the streets, scavenging for whatever food and water he could get his hands on, looking through trash.  

He had to find everyone. His resolve was strong, but definitely faltering. He spent the whole day, until sunset, looking for the company.

And then, it seemed like god has answered his prayers, as his messiah appeared in front of him.

Mrs. Abe's flower shop. 

It was the exact same as he remembered, though, it did seem to be lacking some things, like the familiar scratches on the glass walls (completely caused by Dazai, he was innocent), a different flower stand, but nonetheless, the sign was crystal clear. It was the familiar place he often visited.

He had luckily stumbled upon this by chance. He recalled the exact route it took to go to the company. After all, he was a frequent visitor to this flower shop. 

He ran down the path and took a right turn, went straight until he met with a corner and went left, and after a few more strides, the compan--

It was... not exactly the same.

Something was off. He brushed it aside. It didn't matter, he was finally here and he wasted no time in going up the familiar stairs. The crook of the rails, every creak of the stairs, he remembered it so well, and yet, the feeling that something was off still nagged at him.

He ignored it.

After a few trips up the stairs, which had a great toll on his stamina, being the little kid he was, he reached the place.

Except the familiar sign that held its rightful place on the door was missing. His heart pounded loudly against his ribcage and he stood in front of the door silently. 

At this point, his mind knows that the scene before this door, this is reality. But he's so afraid and hesitant. Nerves tickle at him as he shakingly raises a hand to the doorknob and twists it as lightly as possible. He pushes his weight on the door and it opens.

He doesn't know what to expect. Maybe the members of the company, maybe an empty room, but he didn't expect it to be...

A normal business company.

Normal men dressed up in suits and women in business clothes, frantically rushing to get their paperwork in time, chatting between co-workers, outdated-looking computers set up in ever cubicle.

It was another business company for a regular everyday salaryman. 

He wants to cry.

"Hey, kid. Are you lost?" One of the workers seemed to have taken pity on him and walked over to him and crouched down to his level. "Where's your mom and dad? Do they work here?"

Atsushi stays silent throughout her series of questions.He could only hopelessly watch the scene of an everyday work place play out in front of him. No yelling from Kunikida, crazy antics from Dazai, Ranpo fooling around, no Kyouka to greet him... none of them were here.

He turns his heels, ignoring the shouts of the worker, and high tails out of the place. 

When he goes out, it's emptier than before. A few minutes ago had been a fading sunset and now it was nighttime. 

Pitch black leaving only Atsushi outside. He wants to cry. He hasn't eaten anything in days and he's so tired from running around. 

He's really gone back in time, hasn't he? 

He's really missing all his precious friends. All the relationships he's built, had been gone and he was left with nothing. Nothing, but scars from the orphanage.

He doesn't know what happens next. He's hopeless, fatigued, and starving. As he's panicking and despairing internally, he feels his vision growing black spots. 

It doesn't occur to gim what's happening, but it happens in a split second and he's down on the harsh unforgiving pavement, with a new sense of hurt in his body.

The black spots grow bigger and suddenly, he doesn't comprehend anything anymore.

***

"--Yosano can heal him!" A cheery voice shouted.

A sigh. "It's not an injury, it's hunger. Just give the kid some food, nothing too drastic."

"I want to see Yosano at work."

"She just joined recently. Give the poor girl a break."

"Exactly. As the person who recruited her, I should be her co-boss. She could use her ab-- oh, he's awake."

Atsushi opened his eyes to bright lights that made him squint at the sudden luminosity. He was utterly confused and hopelessly lost.

He couldn't understand his situation at the moment, memories and perception foggy from sleep. It wasn't until the sleepiness wore off that he abruptly got up from the bed into a sitting position.

 "I-- who-- president?"

Sure enough, the first person he saw was the president.

His spirits lifted and he felt hopeful. He was with the president, which meant, maybe, just maybe, he really didn't travel through time.

Fukuzawa's usual stoic features turned into one of slight confusion. Or as confused-looking as Fukuzawa could get. "President? Think you've mistaken me for someone else."

There was a slight drop in his stomach and despar filled him. 

Oh. 

All his hopefulness, all his prayers went unanswered. He really was back in time. He clenches the bedsheets like it's a lifeline.

Atsushi doesn't know what to do so he cries. It's been a long time since he's cried and the feeling almost feels foreign to him. 

Tears come out of his eyes and he tries wiping them with his sleeves and all he feels on his arms are wet cloth sticking against skin. 

His vision was starting to blur from the abundance of tears, so he closed his eyes and cried in darkness.

He didn't know what to do. He was lost, he was scared. He lost everything and he doesn't know how to get it back.

Then cold hands suddenly found themselves on Atsushi's face and squeezed his cheeks lightly causing Atsushi to flinch and open his closed eyes and meet eye-to-eye was a slightly familiar face.

A younger Ranpo.

Like Ranpo had a younger brother or something of sorts. 

"As your savior, I command you to stop crying," Young Ranpo said, smiled widely.

Atsushi didn't know what it was. Perhaps the sight of Ranpo, the same, yet so different. Maybe it was how his eyes lacked recognition, but it made his heart clench and he couldn't help himself. 

He cried more.

***

Fukuzawa has only been clueless a few times in his life. 

Today was one of them.

Ranpo picked up a kid that fainted on the streets, brought him home and proudly showed Fukuzawa his efforts of saving people, like the company had intended to do. 

And now the kid was crying after hearing he wasn't "president". He had no idea what that was about and at the moment, he was at a lost. 

Should he give him candy? Pat his head and ask him where his parents were? He was probably lost or something. Perhaps he could call the police station.

Just as he was about to move, Ranpo stopped him. He placed a hand on Fukuzawa's shoulder and gave him a thumbs up and a nod.

I got it.

Alright. He'll entrust the task with Ranpo. He was closer to the boy's age. He didn't know what he expected, but perhaps he expected too much. 

As soon as Ranpo got near him, his hands went to Atsushi's face and squeezed it. And to top it off, with a grin, he said,

"As your savior, I command you to stop crying."

Atsushi paused for a moment, looking at Ranpo with wide eyes before breaking into louder sobs, hiccupping and gasping for air.

Fukuzawa wanted to bash his head against the door. 

Chapter Text

After he had managed to calm down, Atsushi dried his tears with his tattered sleeves, wetting the fabric, sniffling for the last time. His eyes were red and puffy and they were probably going to be swollen after today. Not to mention, his nose was runny and throbbing. 

Atsushi looked around the place, inspecting it wordlessly, taking his whole surroundings in, relishing in everything. So this had been the old headquarters, the one he had never got to know.

Atsushi ran a hand through the bedsheets as he shifted on the bed, to get a better view of the interior.

It was shabby and old, looking more like an old inn house, if anything. It was also quite messy, the floor littered with books, papers, and piles of colorful candy wrappers (courtesy of Ranpo, no doubt, he thought fondly). The walls were a bit enclosing and stuffy, unlike the old spacious building that he had known to be as headquarters. Feeling utterly homesick, he stiffly sat on the bed, nervously looking around.

They really did improve the agency, starting from this shabby old inn-looking place, to a big office building.

He continued on scrutinizing the place, eyes traveling throughout the room, unaware of everything else surrounding him until someone cleared their throat, effectively gaining his attention as his head turned around quickly towards the source. 

"Alright, could you tell me your parent's name?"

Atsushi looked at the President, who had now just started speaking. "The police can find your parents if you're listed as a missing child."

Right.

President didn't know about his whole backstory. It felt like every injury he used to have from the orphanage had burned with just the thought of it, forcing himself not to touch the wounds. It had almost been like a fever dream, the whole experience.

A very vivid fever dream. He almost didn't want to talk about it, the words caught in his throat with him half-wanting to force it out and the other half of him just wanting him to stay quiet. 

Not to mention, the memory of being in the old cage again was fresh in his memories, something that had began to seem so distant until he had traveled to the very start. Awkwardly, he nervously fiddled with his fingers. "I don't have-- I live in an orphanage. Or lived in," Atsushi nervously mumbled. "I... I ran away."

The President slightly widened his eyes, so slightly that Atsushi almost couldn't even see that shift in movement. Besides him, Ranpo had reacted in the most opposite way, perking up to the comment. "Really? So you have no place to go?" He inquired, playfully poking Atsushi's cheeks. 

Atsushi slightly flinched at the sudden poke, but made no signs of protest, merely answering with a small "yes" obediently. 

With a bemused expression, it quickly grew into a grin as Ranpo leaned over to the president and exclaimed, "Maybe he could stay with us? As some kind of errand boy?"

The President mumbled something underneath his breath, as if saying a prayer before sighing as glancing at Atsushi, eyes calculating and observing every inch of him, from his toes to the very top of his head. Atsushi shifted uncomfortably underneath his prolonged and intense glare that scrutinized him carefully. After several minutes of seemingly to be exasperated, he spoke.

"I suppose that'd be fine. You could be an errand boy of some sorts for the company if you need a place to stay," Fukuzawa sighed as he glanced at his slumped figure of the boy. 

Atsushi looks at him with wide and hopeful eyes. "C-Can I?" 

"Yeah."

"Thank you, pres-- Mr. Fukuzawa. I'll try my best not to disappoint!" Atsushi answered earnestly. He grasped the president's hands without thinking. Something one would expect Dazai to do. 

Utterly reckless and crossing personal boundaries. 

If it was his first life, he wouldn't dare even touch a hair on president, but he's back in the agency again and the president, while being more youthful and different from the president that he had known, he was the same man he had knew him to be. He was back, and really, that's the only thing that mattered again.

He was back in time, but who cares, dammit. He was going to fight tooth and nail to get everything back to him. 

"Oh-- you're crying again," Fukuzawa remarked. 

He hadn't even realized it. Atsushi let go of president's hand and rubbed his eyes with his sleeves. Atsushi sniffled. "I'm just happy."

He wipes an influx of warm tears, and yeah, his eyes were definitely going to get swollen. 

A shower. It's been too long.

He definitely misses the feeling of cleanliness, the blissful feeling off hot water on his back that seemingly lulled him into a feeling of calm and safety. He had enjoyed taking showers previously, when he stilled looked the age of eighteen, and nothing had changed. 

President ushered him into the bathroom for a shower and he's excited at the prospect of cleaning himself after so long. 

They even had soap. Atsushi marveled at the bar of lemon-scented soap, excited at the prospect of washing all the grime away from him. He's not sure how long he's been without a shower, but he's not trying to prolong it. 

As Atsushi stripped his clothes off, he pulled up his shirt to see the ugly scar. That stopped him in his track momentarily.

He had traveled far back enough for this scar to remain. There was the same ugly pink fleshy scar that trailed across his stomach. 

He lightly traced the scar on his stomach, brushing his fingers gently over it. It was uglier now than it was in the past, still more fresher than he was used to it being.  

Atsushi shook the thoughts way from his head. It was the past, he's over this by now. Atsushi had let the pain go already go, he had the company now-- or before. He smiled at the memories of everyone--

Memories that seemed to have never happened at this time.

He sighed lightly and turned on the shower. Water came pouring at him full blast. At first, he was hit with cold, but gradually, the warm water relaxed him. 

Minutes later, he stepped out of the bathtub, smelling of soap and distinctly of ripe lemons. 

He dried himself hastily off on a towel and reached for the his new clothes he had received . Everything had came out of Ranpo's closet, which, surprisingly, Ranpo easily agreed on sharing with him.

A t-shirt and black shorts. 

The shirt was too big on him and it rode to his knees. One of the sleeves were practically slipping past his shoulders to his arm. He had to tie the ends into a knot so they seemed shorter than they were, but they were clean and that was all that Atsushi cared about.

The pants were big around the waist and thighs, which left Atsushi having to adjust it every so often with each few steps he took.

His whole body was just so small and bony. He missed his old body. It had been on the leaner side, but at least he had a healthy amount of meat on his bones. His ribs were prodding out and he was more of a walking skeleton if anything. 

Taking a deep breath, he walked out the bathroom door. 

It may not be his old company, but he still felt a sense of nostalgia and home tingle within him.

The newly found agency was small and relatively unknown. They were still growing as an agency and their names, while somewhat recognizable, was more obscure than anything. Currently, only four members made up the company. Fukuzawa himself, Ranpo, Yosano (personally recommended by Ranpo and after weeks of pestering, Ranpo managed to make her agree to join), and Katai. 

Well, five if you counted their new errand boy. 

He didn't really know what he was thinking when he arranged for Atsushi to be the errand boy. He just looked at his miserable, downcast face and wanted to do something to fix it.

Fukuzawa wasn't the type to get involved, but here he was, getting involved like no one's business. 

He fought the urge to sigh. Perhaps being with Ranpo had softened him if he folded so easily over some tears and sniffles. 

But god damn, the boy had grasped his hands and looked at him so earnestly and honestly when the words had left Fukuzawa's mouth. He really couldn't find it in himself to regret what he had done. 

The strangest thing about the boy was, he didn't have any complaints. Almost as if this was some sort of normal routine for him, being ordered around.

Huh. 

Ranpo seemed to be acting as some sort of an older brother figure for the kid, and to someone who didn't know him as much as Fukuzawa did, they wouldn't stop and think that Ranpo might just love having someone look up to him.

And to boss around. 

Yosano wasn't any different from that sibling treatment that Atsushi received from Ranpo. She'd squeeze his cheeks and ruffled up his hair into a disheveled mess whenever she came over, which was more often than not nowadays.

The only one that was slightly distant at first was Katai, who was content on staying underneath his blanket instead of interacting with the new errand boy.

Fukuzawa supposed he wouldn't worry about it too much as the man was always like this, to Yosano and Ranpo at first, not excluding Fukuzawa from the treatment either. 

He had warmed up to them eventually, but it was more along the lines of, he had to, with their forceful and brash personalities that made him interact rather than leave the man to his devices. 

Yet, Atsushi was passive and always willing to please, keeping to himself more often than not. Fukuzawa wondered if they'd be able to interact at all whatsoever.

The thought is alleviated when Fukuzawa was starting to get perturbed by the interaction, he managed to catch a glimpse of them both holed up underneath Katai's futon, Katai attempting to teach him how to play a video game of his. 

Atsushi's background was unknown and the boy had carried an aura to him that seemed more mysterious than anything and Fukuzawa wasn't exactly sure where he had wanted to place him.

One thing was for sure though, the old place was looking much better than it used to.

The agency headquarters was often used as some sort of break room for Ranpo. There always was chips bags lying about, candy wrappers and empty cans, all cluttered around the table. 

Other members didn't quite clean up after Ranpo either. 

Yosano often left for school, still finishing up her middle school education, she didn't frequently visit the headquarters often. Though, if she did happen to stumble across the mess, she'll proclaim something about, "Not being a maid" and walk away.

Katai... Well, Fukuzawa marked him as a lost cause. His house was messier than the headquarters, Fukuzawa didn't expect much of anything from him. 

That usually left him to do the cleaning. Which he wasn't efficient at nor willing to. He was the boss of a company, not a mother cleaning up after her kids, so he more likely than not ignored the big piling mess, ignoring the premonition that someday, this will all come toppling down. 

And then Atsushi came, with his hard-working self and determined set of eyes as he went straight to work, cleaning after them. It almost felt like walking into a stranger's house on accident, seeing how much it shined afterwards. 

A good earnest kid. That was new.  

And he's gotten into the habit of calling him "president" with those wide eyes, looking up at him in reverence. He ruffled up his hair one or two times... more times than he'd like to admit.

Involuntary ruffles, as he seemed to have done so without his subconscious noticing. He'll have to force himself to stop doing so without his attention. 

He sighed and ran a hand through his own hair this time, one of exasperation. 

The hair ruffling didn't stop.

"You win 'em over with your big puppy eyes. It'll be fine," Ranpo said, giving him a light pat on his shoulder as his hands gripped Atsushi's shoulders, pulling him towards the direction of intended target.

"Ranpo, don't involve Atsushi in the mission. He's only spectating," Yosano argued, grabbing Atsushi back towards her, Atsushi stumbling slightly at the sudden force. 

A hot summer, stick with sweat, and Atsushi uncomfortably was shoved back and forth between Yosano and Ranpo. 

The city was bustling with people and Atsushi swore, they were the loudest. 

"Well, I don't see you seducing a fifty-something old woman," Ranpo countered, gripping Atsushi back. "Atsushi's ten, he's at prime age for old ladies to dot on." 

"He's ten."

"Exactly my point."

"Which means, no seducing old geezers for your own personal benefit." With an extra tight pull, Atsushi was wrenched away from Ranpo's hands. 

"It's not for my benefit, it's for the good of the citizens. It's a mission."

Yosano frowned as Ranpo made a move to come closer. "A mission that Atsushi shouldn't be taking."

"Come on, when I was ten, I was doing all kinds of missions," Ranpo whined, as his hands barely gripped him. "Let Atsushi play detective with his older brother."

Yosano stuck a figure out and stuck it against Ranpo's chest. "No. It's been a year already and you're still recklessly getting yourself in trouble. Not Atsushi too, you snot-nosed brat."

Ranpo still has the same smile on his face, but it morphs into almost a threatening one despite it. "Excuse me? Yours truly? Trouble?"

"G-Guys, the lady's getting away," Atsushi cried out in half horror and exasperation.

Ranpo and Yosano instantly turned, eyes on the missing figure that had slipped its way into the crowd. 

"Shit it's your fault--" 

"Who was the one who was against me using Atsu--"

"You're shamelessly, downright exploiting him--"

Atsushi resisted the urge to groan as he watched their retreating backs, growing smaller as they ran.

Every. Single. Day. 

This was something he was not used to. He didn't know what changed from the previous timeline, but there was not a single, snarky remark from Ranpo and Yosano seemed to have soften up around him, compared to how he had been essentially just servant number one for her shopping expenditures. 

He wasn't sure if this was better or not. 

"Exploitations is a harsh word. I would prefer to use innovation or--"

Yosano pinched Ranpo's year, ignoring the yelp that he let out. "Save it. I'm going to tell the boss on you."

"Wait, don't--"

Chapter Text

When Ranpo gets an idea, an epiphany as he so proudly dubs it himself, Atsushi has learned that it's better to run than to stay and see the fallout damage of said idea.

Of course, easier said than done. 

Ranpo always manages to rope someone else in his mess and from the company, Atsushi is an easiest prey of them all or rather, Atsushi found it hard to tell the over-excitable, dense man no. Yosano manages to pull him out most of the time, but when she's at school, Atsushi is free game. 

Perhaps that's how he found himself, walking down the street, in a wavy, brown wig and dressed up in a skirt that reached his ankles. Every light breeze made his legs feel cold and he nervously tugs at Ranpo's shirt. 

"Ranpo, maybe we should rethink this. I'm not sure about this plan-- besides, I don' t look remotely like a--"

Gripping his shoulders tightly, Ranpo looked at him straight in the eye, momentarily shutting Atsushi up. "Young ones like you knows no genders. There is only youth and your own passion, so go forth Atsushi, make me proud."

"R-Ranpo, this isn't--"

"Atsushi, have you forgotten? All those years ago, when you were at a moment of weakness, so fragile and on the brink of death, I, your savior, came in your time of need and--"

"I know, but I don't think crossdressing should be--"

"No words. Listen to your savior. This'll pay off the life debt you owe to me." Ranpo adjusted the hairband on his head with a thoughtful look.

"That's what you say everytime. Like that mission last week, when--"

"As if that'll pay off a life debt. Don't sell your life so short like that. You're worth more than a mission."

"Thanks?" Atsushi is one hundred percent sure that it wasn't exactly a compliment, if not backhanded manipulation, but coming from Ranpo, he'll take what he could get.

"Alright, this plan is foolproof! We'll catch that pickpocketer in no time," Ranpo cheerfully says, clapping Atsushi on the back gleefully. "Let's get this plan started." He grins as he starts rummaging through his pockets. 

Atsushi smiles back at the grinning Ranpo, despite having to crossdress because he trusts Ranpo and currently, it seems Ranpo trusts him enough to have him in on his plans. Trust, how nice. 

Ranpo's words finally dawns on him a beat too late. 

"W-Wait? A pickpocket? What does that have to with me dressing up as a girl?" Atsushi asks, eyes widening as realization creeps up on him, in a cruel, cruel way. 

"Not at all!" Ranpo cheerfully says as he finally finds what he was looking for, fishing out a camera. "Smile."

The snap of the camera was lost on Atsushi, and the other consecutively snaps that followed, as his mind attempted to comprehend what was happening, but it was on overdrive. Impossible, absolutely impossible. How could Ranpo had-- on second thought, Ranpo definitely could have. 

"Ranpo," He cries out. "I'm changing." 

"No, no, we're no a mission, you can't fool around and run in a field of dasies, listen to your older brother." 

You're the one whose fooling around, Atsushi could only think to himself helplessly, as Ranpo had a tight grip around his wrists and dragging him towards the direction opposite of the company. 

Atsushi is not sure why Ranpo has saddled him into something this simple of a mission as a pickpocket, but at this point of time, people haven't really heard of them, and currently they were more of an odd-jobs team if anything. Atsushi has gotten more cats out of trees than he's helped on actual supernatural missions, previous and current time added up.

He feels like a sidekick to Ranpo, who he supposes to be akin to Sherlock Holmes. He cannot place the name to his sidekick, he's only truly read on book, but he was sure he was like him, following Ranpo around with that questioning look in his eyes as he could only run after him, follow while only observing in that breezy skirt of his. 

Ranpo manages to whittle the suspect down to a single place, to narrow the pickpocketer down to the Slums. He manages to do so, just by the victim of said pickpocket describing the rough estimate of time and observing the place of the event as Atsushi had only stood in the sidelines and watch Ranpo do this thing. 

It amazes Atsushi at how Ranpo performs such miracles, but he's sure Ranpo, as of now, will just boil it all down to his ability rather than his own merits, chalk it up to his extraordinary instead of his humanity, so Atsushi doesn't ask how or why he knows, and just acknowledges that he knows, following Ranpi wordlessly. (Though, the wordlessly part had something to do with the attire he sports.) 

Personally, Atsushi is not all that familiar with the slums. He's lived in conditions similar to these, but he's never truly lived in this town enough to wander close enough to these parts before he got picked up by Dazai. He's been here for missions, at times, in his original timeline, and even then, he wasn't all that focused on the slums, itself. 

Looking at it now, with a closer eye, Atsushi looks strangely out of place, even if he excludes the dumb crossdressing charades, sticking out like a sore thumb, but he feels a sense of empathy looking at the dirtied, skinny kids that reminds him so much of him and his youth-- or the relatively recent him, if he was being technical. 

He hurries to keep up with the other, as Ranpo's strides were lazy, but quick in each step. He passes the surroundings with his usual brand of disinterest, but he's always like this and Atsushi thinks its just expected of him by now.

"Alright, I'm going in. You stay here, keep an eye out. Careful not to get yourself hurt," Ranpo says, grinning easily, but there was no joking tone in his voice. 

Atsushi holds back a smile, finding it hard to restrain a growing grin towards Ranpo when he sounds serious to all hell, something that rarely happens. 

Despite all his troubles and how he drove Atsushi up a wall at times, Ranpo did care. 

Maybe it was the fact that Ranpo, himself, had saved Atsushi. Maybe it was the fact that Atsushi was way younger than when they met. But Ranpo was certainly more affectionate and careful around him, not by much as he was still Ranpo, but enough so that Atsushi noticed. 

Smiling slightly, Atsushi nods. "Of course."

Ranpo ruffles the wig on Atsushi's head, the only thing keeping it on being the headband. Atsushi squawks in panic as he attempts to keep it in place and while crossdressing is embarrassing, other people finding out he's crossdressing is moreso. For the first time in this new timeline, he's grateful that he doesn't sound like how he used to, but a high-pitched tone that no one gets suspicious enough to take a closer look. 

Ranpo offers him a mock salute as he walks farther away from Atsushi, and Atsushi salutes back, if only to appease Ranpo, and watches as the figure grows smaller and smaller, until he couldn't see the young detective anymore. A sigh of relief leaves his throat without a second thought. 

Alone time. 

He leans against the pole that was next to him, feeling cool metal against his arms. As much as he enjoys his company, ecstatic that Ranpo now sought it instead of tolerating it like he had in the previous timeline, he gets tired. Finally, he could lament his situation in peace, without being next to the very cause of his proble--

He hears a rustle in the back and the sounds catches his attention enough so that he turns his head towards the source of the sound. At first, his eyes get caught by the loud noises from the unloading of crates near the port across from him. He stares for a few while before moving his eyes downwards to the port and his heart gets caught in his chest. 

As soon as his eyes catch sight of the source, dread fills him and he feels like he's swallowed a bunch of lead.

Akutagawa Ryuunosuke. 

He was making eye contact with a young Ryuunosuke who was standing nead the docks. He knew that face anywhere, old or young. 

Just his luck that Ryuunosuke, of all people, saw him in his attire, an attire which will be neatly tucked in his dark history part of his brain.

His only saving grace was that Ryuunosuke hasn't registered him as a threat or rival, so Ryuunosuke wouldn't hold that against him. Hopefully. He wouldn't even remember him, he tells himself.

Ryuunosuke does not tear his eyes away from him and Atsushi does not either as he supposes that despite his faults and his banters with Ryuunosuke, he was an adorable kid. Messy black hair fell in spikes and he looks like a wide-eyed newborn faun that didn't know left from right, his clothes: Rashomon, was lightly swaying with childlike wonder.

He wasn't exactly the most innocent and sheltered kid, but he was ages more naive than his older self that Atsushi was familiar with.

Atsushi had not known much about Ryuunosuke's past pre-Dazai. It was hard enough trying to hear about his life whilst Dazai was in it. Dazai was particularly good at managing to pull the conversation into meaningless chatter about how poison was truly the worst way to go and Ryuunosuke had been rather tight-lipped about it, enough that Atsushi knew it was better not to pry or question. 

He looks hungry, was Atsushi's first impression of him. At a certain extent, he was as if he was seeing a mirror image of his younger self-- his actual younger self-- who looks every amount as thin as Ryuunosuke did at the moment, and had that same anger in his eyes, the same indignation that was splashed with fear.

Ryuunosuke coughs. It sounds throaty and the only thing, other than his looks, that resembles the Ryuunosuke that he knows.

He thinks, this was just Ryuunosuke, a boy who wanted to live. 

Their eyes meet again and his heart warms enough that he smiles and offers a shy wave to him.

At that, the boy flushes and quickly turns his head around, not daring to spare another peek at him, and Atsushi resists the urge to laugh. Now if only he could manage to make Ryuunosuke stay the way he was right now: an adorable little child. He could live with that, he could definitely live with that. 

He spends the rest of his time waiting, watching the back of Ryuunosuke's head as the other refused to turn his head back, watching the sea as burly men unload a bunch of crates onto a ship.

When the sun is close to setting and the burly men have already departed, Ranpo enters his line of sight, dragging in a knocked out man behind him. 

"Did you--"

"A little extra dose of sleeping pills never hurt anyone," Ranpo cheerfully says.

Of course. Ranpo doesn't have the brawns to back up his intelligence-- and his extremely blunt mouth-- but he always finds ways. Atsushi suppresses and a sigh and decides to keep his mouth shut and opted out of asking any questions. He did, after all, trust Ranpo. 

A breeze flies by and his skirt brushes against his legs, feeling ticklish against skin and no, scratch that, he does not trust Ranpo. He trusts Ranpo with his life, but he does not trust him with anything else, especially not his dignity. 

"Let's report it to the police quickly. I want to change out of these clothes. I don't even know why I was included for the mission, in these clothes, if you weren't going to even use me." With an urge to cry, Atsushi feels wronged.

"You don't have an ability," Ranpo snorts and Atsushi feels his palms start to sweat. "I wouldn't get you involved." 

"Then why am I here?" 

"Moral support, I guess." Ranpo shrugs.  

Atsushi does not bother to stick around and argue with Ranpo. That would mean walking around in these clothes for a second longer and he does not want to exist in these more than he should.

"Sorry for the wait. One of the kids got in trouble while trying to steal. Let's go, Ryuu." Gin walks up to her brother, who was currently staring off into the sea, watching the sun midway into its set. 

Her brother lacks a response and she'd chalk it off to him being quiet, but he doesn't spare a glance towards her, as if he were in a trance. 

"Ryuu?" Gin offers again, a bit more tentatively this time. She wonders if he was mad that she was late. While her brother had a loose temper, he wasn't one to hold grudges and he was never volatile with his temper towards Gin like he was to everyone else, so she currently was at a loss. "Are you mad?"

She's close enough now that she could tap her brother on the shoulder. This manages to jolt him back into reality and he turns his head, face flushed and eyes wide.

"I just met the prettiest girl today. She waved at me." He didn't elaborate and Gin didn't ask. They both weren't the type. Her brother silently hoists himself up and they both retreat to their hideout, the warm, orange glow of the sunset highlighting everything the similar shade. 

She could only wonder.

Atsushi figures that missions, especially ones with Ranpo, are a red zone. President is aloof, Katai is Katai, and Yosano still doesn't think he's old enough for mission, no matter the simplicity of them, so he's more often than not saddled with Ranpo anyways. He couldn't even take a mission himself, as he hasn't revealed his own ability either, so there were disagreements. 

Ranpo had been a special cause, but Atsushi, to them, is but a normal civilian who had accidentally gotten saddled into the agency. 

How would he exactly drop this fact on the other members?

Thank you for the tea, President. By the way, I have an ability that allows me to turn into a tiger. Seeing Pres having to shovel through that made Atsushi allow himself a tepid smile.

Well, Atsushi decides that he very much enjoys cleaning. It's a bit of a stress relief, doesn't involve Ranpo's crazy ideas, and he's much more comfortable dusting the dirt off of the shelves than dealing with any of this business.

He cleans the dirt off of the steps in an attempt to keep the place, as old as it may be, still presentable. One day, Atsushi is sure, it's going to become that once grand building, standing tall, ready to take on the whole world with all those people he knew and cared for, previously and now. Right now though, the building is older than most things in this town and it certainly looks the part. 

Halfway into cleaning though, he briefly takes note of the quietness of the agency from the inside.

Both Yosano and Ranpo were present at the time, and Atsushi had half-expected the agency be bustling with shouting and banter, but it was awfully quiet and Atsushi was slightly nervous at the unnerving silence that hung onto the house.

He laid his broom against the door frame and entered, if only to appease his strange gut feeling and reassure himself that nothing was wrong.

Yosano and Ranpo were not in the living room. Not the kitchen. Nor the bedrooms, of the president's or Ranpo's. It was all empty and neither two were anywhere near sight. Perhaps, his own bedroom, which was one originally of the few guestrooms they had.

Sure enough, as he climbs up the stairs, he hears distinct voices. He hears noises coming from his own room, getting louder as he got closer.

"Ten for four. My best deal. Take it or leave it, I will not go any lower." It had been Ranpo's voice and surprisingly serious. Atsushi briefly wonders what the subject matter was to have Ranpo, normally laidback or too lazy to care about such thing, be in such a mood.

"You're a stingy bastard."

"But I managed to do what you failed to do. With pictures on top of it. Don't you want them? Aren't they cute? Don't you just wanna pinch his cheeks? Huh?" 

"You're a swindler. You're lucky Atsushi likes you," Yosano mumbles. "I'll take it."

"You won't regret it."

Atsushi slams open the door and he's met with scattered pictures of him on his bed in that damned skirt and wig, the very one he swore to forget. It was hard to, if they was picture evidence of it everywhere, though. 

Atsushi, frankly, finds it hard to believe. But the damn pictures and wad of cash in Ranpo's hands convinces him just fine. Yosano has the decency to look slightly guilty, that she's been caught buying his most embarrassing pictures, the one he swears to burn, all of it. Ranpo had not seemed guilty or at the least bit miffed. He just offers Atsushi a smile. 

Moral support his ass, Ranpo you liar! You're just using me to fund your snacks! He thinks to himself, choking back a wail. I'm never going to trust you ever again!