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It didn’t take ultra deduction to figure out there was something between Atsushi Nakajima and Dazai Osamu.
At first, it wasn’t anything big. Atsushi was known for being a bundle of anxiety and affection, and it didn’t seem unnatural for the majority of the affection to be directed at the man who’d saved him in more than one sense of the word. Maybe it was just for security at first, but Atsushi was a kitten with a crush, and nobody expected Dazai to even acknowledge the special treatment. Atsushi would scoot his chair closer to Dazai’s desk, bring him gifts, and blush whenever he had his hair ruffled for doing well on an outing. The agency had taken it upon themselves to care for the baby tiger that had fallen into their laps, and they were glad Dazai had taken a position of relative non-action toward the boy. It was possible he was completely oblivious, and there would never be a return on his end. Atsushi’s love for Dazai was a fairy-tale thing, bright and ethereal.
And then, it wasn’t. Dazai had a gift for the subtle when he wished to. The change wasn’t sudden, but it started with the coat. Dazai was rarely seen without it, and then with no warning, he had begun to leave it with Atsushi for overnight assignments. Even before whenever Dazai spoke the weretiger’s name the sound was more purr than words, but it started to carry an even softer edge. Affectionate, even. At this point perhaps, Dazai felt he was not doing enough. One afternoon work had finished early, and he asked Atsushi if he’d like to join him for crepes. Rampo had whined and asked why he hadn’t been invited. Dazai replied after a pause. “Well,” he said simply, “You aren’t my boyfriend.” Obviously, Dazai knew when not to be subtle, too.
So what was between the two was romantic, it seemed. Speculation among the other occupants of the Armed Detective Agency’s office became common practice when the two were off somewhere, and the questions started whenever either returned. Atsushi took most of them, even though the inquiries were exhausting. He appreciated the worry over a weretiger and a “suicide maniac” being perhaps not the best suited for one another. Dazai was an excellent boyfriend, he reassured them! He was a good kisser, and always picked special places for dates. He let Atsushi stay at his room every now and again, of course they always kept their pajamas on. It was too cold not to wear them with the late fall cold, anyway!
It was a particularly question filled day, and Atsushi was relieved to have plans that allowed for a break from the interrogation. He was off to meet his best friend, but given the nature of said friend, he framed leaving as just a walk along the Yokohama Bay. Atsushi had been excited for this outing since morning, and he stopped at a location known for good doughnuts along the way. This wasn’t the first time he’d snuck off for this purpose, and by now he knew that he’d need three of anything he brought. The doughnuts were animal themed and freshly baked, but Atsushi’s hands were chilled through his gloves as he carried the box.
Atsushi’s friend was easy to spot as he approached a grassy stop that overlooked the ocean. Akutagawa Ryuunosuke stood out wherever he went, but one could hardly blame him for his long dark coat in this weather. He was seated on a bench by the rail over the ocean, and for once did not wear an expression of murderous discontent. He seemed peaceful, even, watching the waves. Atsushi was nervous to sit next to him but did so anyway. He placed the box with the doughnuts in between them and looked out of the water, too. Atsushi still couldn’t say for certain how he managed to befriend someone who impaled him multiple times, but he did care for Akutagawa deeply.
The sky was laced with a few lazy clouds, every now and again reflected in the gloomy waters of the bay. Atsushi was somewhat unsure of how to start a conversation and looked at the water for a second more before turning to his friend. “Do you... like the ocean?” he said, kicking his feet off the end of the bench. He was barely too short to reach the ground.
“I do,” said Akutagawa, dark eyes still fixed to the waves. “I like the ocean very much.”
“Me too!” Atsushi gave a little extra kick, “I couldn’t see it where I used to live, so it’s nice...”
For a while, there was silence between them. A companionable silence, not unpleasant. Atsushi eventually managed to break the pause with a mentioning of the doughnut box between them. Akutagawa seemed puzzled by the treats, though his reactions of surprise did not vary much between each time Atsushi showed him something new. His eyes widened slightly. His mouth formed a tiny upside-down v.
Akutagawa lifted a doughnut out of the box and spoke in a breathy incredulous tone. “These look like cats??”
Atsushi pulled another doughnut out of the box. “I thought they were exciting but maybe they’re too cute to eat...” He turned the doughnut around in his hands as he spoke, and turned to find Akutagawa had already mostly finished his pastry. “O-oh. Was it good?”
Akutagawa gave an “Mm.” of affirmation, then gestured to the last doughnut in the box. “Why did you buy three?”
Atsushi startled, almost dropping his doughnut. “Oh! Right, last time we met you said that... That rashoumon also likes to have treats sometimes, so I bought an extra one...”
Akutagawa made an “Ooh.” sound and did not speak further on the subject. Lapses of silence were a great deal more common than a conversation with Akutagawa, but Atsushi didn’t mind.
For another few moments, the weretiger held his doughnut in his hands, then replaced it in the box and closed the lid. He figured that Akutagawa had fewer chances to enjoy sweet things, anyway. It had been Rampo who recommended the cat-shaped doughnuts to Atsushi to begin with, and there was no doubt the agency president was a fan, too. He wished not entirely secretly that there could be a cat doughnut party at the agency, and a bit more secretly that if there was a party, Akutagawa could be there. Akutagawa being at the armed detective agency was a dream Atsushi thought on often enough, though figuring out how that would work at all... It seemed difficult, to say the least. But here, sitting in such a warm silence with someone he was so glad to have befriended, thinking out the rest of that dream was perhaps worth the difficulty. The most major issue wouldn’t be the admission, but... Atsushi chewed his lower lip in thought.
“What are you thinking about?” Akutagawa startled Atsushi with the question and a dark-eyed gaze.
Usually, Atsushi would have given a vague answer, along the lines of “you know, this and that,” but he felt he owed Akutagawa the truth.
Atsushi balled up his fists on top of his knees and breathed in. “I was thinking about the Agency, and how much I wish you could be there. I know that would be really difficult to make happen, though...”
Akutagawa’s eyes were wide, but his expression was flat. “You really think about that?”
Atsushi nodded. “Yeah, I do... It’s funny because you’ve stabbed me a lot, but you’re probably the best friend I have and if you were at the agency maybe it would feel whole or... something.” He turned to find that Akutagawa was staring out at the ocean again, a shadow of discontent across his face.
“You wouldn’t want me there.” The reply carried the signature Akutagawa brand of anger, “That man would leave, and I know how much you like him.”
And there it was, the issue right at the heart of Atsushi’s wish. “I mean... I’m worried about having you two in the same room no matter what.”
Silence again. The unspoken statement was “You should be.”
There was no sound but the waves crashing for a time, and then Akutagawa seemed to soften a little. “Nobody has ever said they like being around me like that before.”
That might be because of your stabbing habit, Atsushi thought, but out loud he said “Of course I like being around you! I mean... now that you aren’t going for murder on sight anymore.”
Akutagawa blinked like this was a surprising statement. Then he diverted the subject. “Are you going to eat the rest of the doughnuts?”
“Oh!” Atsushi was startled but relieved by the change of conversation. “No. Go ahead.”
Akutagawa coughed into his sleeve, and Atsushi caught just enough of his whispered “Rashoumon” to jump back and away from the bench. The catlike head of the bright red and black cross between a cloud and a lightning bolt reared from Akutagawa’s coat, opening its maw with a screech. Rashoumon ate the entire doughnut box and part of the bench before disappearing.
Akutagawa coughed again. “He liked those,” the dark-haired boy said, but his voice made no indication that this was the case.
***
Atsushi jogged back to the agency, making it back through the doors a few minutes before his break ended. He made his way back to his desk as inconspicuously as possible, to try and assure nobody would ask where he’d been. He planned out responses to the question in his head anyway, like how he’d just been out on a walk, enjoying the beauty of Yokohama. This was half true since he did really adore the city that always smelled like something delicious was cooking. That mixed with the smell of the sea was as close to home as Atsushi had ever felt, and he couldn’t think of anywhere he’d rather be. Distracted, he put his elbows up on the table and cupped his chin in his hands, not noticing when Dazai slid into the chair next to him.
Dazai made a sound halfway between a laugh and a purr, and Atsushi startled, to which Dazai laughed genuinely and smiled in that very particular way that made a weretiger’s heart feel like a shaken plate of Jell-O.
“Don’t you have work to do...?” Atsushi asked, even though he knew Dazai was probably just avoiding work right now.
Dazai leaned on one hand, blinking dramatically. “Don’t you?”
“Of course I do!! But...” Atsushi cut his own indignance off with a sigh, “That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t do your work too.”
Dazai closed his eyes, feigning consideration. “Butttttt I like looking at you more than doing work.”
Atsushi felt the heat rush to his cheeks. “Kunikida will yell at you.”
“Kunikida would yell at me for working, too.”
This was true, though Atsushi suspected most people would be moved to shouting if they saw Dazai doing something so out of character as working. Still, he really did have things to get done before the end of the day... “But what if he yells at me, too?”
“Oh.” Dazai hadn’t considered that. He took his hand out from under his chin, opting to just rest his head on the desk. The dark haired man gave a long sigh.
Atsushi reached for his stack of unfinished paperwork and grabbed a pen out of the cup on the table. Now that it looked like he was ready to work, he slid the hand that was closer to Dazai under the desk, finding his way to the other man’s hand. Dazai linked his fingers with Atsushi’s without any prompting. Atsushi gave Dazai’s hand a squeeze before letting go, even though it made his heart ache to do so. “You can make it another hour or so, yeah? Can you try to get something done?”
Dazai sat up, moving his arms so that they dangled over the back of the chair. He tilted his head, letting the half-curly mess of his hair fall across his face. “Atsushi, will you walk me home if I do?”
Atsushi struggled not to stare, nodding yes. But you’re way too pretty to be asking someone like me to walk you home, he thought.
The rest of the afternoon dragged on quietly, the office being much less crowded than it was the same morning. Dazai did actually get some work done, much to Atsushi’s surprise. Atsushi didn’t know he was such a good motivator for his boyfriend, but he was glad if that was the case. Atsushi twirled and untwirled a strand of silvery hair around his finger while he filled out papers, an obvious indication that his mind wasn’t really on it. He was still thinking about his conversation with Akutagawa, but more than that he was thinking about how readily Dazai had held his hand and how warm the other hand had been... The way that when their wrists rubbed together he could feel Dazai’s bandages, but the texture wasn’t at all unpleasant. Yokohama felt like home for certain, but this propinquity with Dazai was the same sensation, multiplied enough that it didn’t feel real.
Finally, it was time to go. Atsushi stacked his finished papers and moved them where they needed, adjusting his desk to finish the rest for tomorrow. Dazai was already waiting by the door, leaning on the frame with a somehow elegant nonchalance. He looked at Atsushi and smiled. “Shall we?”
The two walked toward Dazai’s apartment unhurriedly, standing just close enough that they weren’t touching. Atsushi shivered in the late fall frigidity, and Dazai offered his coat. Atsushi accepted cautiously, but he did love Dazai’s jacket. It smelled of seawater and sweat, cinnamon and coffee. It smelled of Dazai, and by extension, home. A cold thought struck Atsushi then, even as the coat warmed him up.
“You know,” he said, speaking softly, “If I hadn’t met you back then at the river... I probably wouldn’t have lasted to winter.”
Dazai was silent, but he took just a few steps closer to Atsushi. Then he laughed, bright and loud. “Isn’t that because you fed all the food you could get to stray cats?”
Atsushi was thrown totally off guard, having forgotten entirely that he’d told that story to Dazai. “They were really nice cats! And I was sad and lonely!”
Dazai laughed again, then put an arm around Atsushi’s shoulders, pulling him closer. “I can understand the appeal of stray cats. I wouldn’t be alive without you, after all!”
“I’m not sure if that’s a compliment or not...” Atsushi mumbled, trying to keep from leaning all the way into Dazai’s embrace.
Dazai didn’t answer since they’d arrived at his apartment. He had to fish around the pockets of the coat that Atsushi was wearing to find the keys, which delayed their entrance somewhat. When Dazai finally got the door open he held it, gesturing for Atsushi to go inside. Spending afternoons together wasn’t uncommon for the two of them, but Atsushi still found himself hesitating. This didn’t go without Dazai’s notice, and the dark haired man tilted his head like a cat. “You’re not staying?” he asked, caramel brown eyes searching Atsushi’s face.
Atsushi wrapped the sleeves of Dazai’s coat around himself. “I want to stay for dinner, but I shouldn’t if you don’t have food for two...”
Dazai seemed shocked by this entirely reasonable statement. “Well,” he said, recovering bravely, “You’re such a good cook, Atsushi! I’m sure you could make something delicious from whatever I have!”
Atsushi scowled despite the flattery. “A fried egg over a pile of canned crab meat isn’t a gourmet meal.”
Dazai pouted, knowing how difficult this move was to resist. “But I’ll just eat it right out of the can if you’re not here...”
Atsushi had already wanted to stay, but this nonetheless sealed the deal, as Dazai knew it would. He followed the dark haired man inside, relaxing immediately in the familiar warmth and scent. Dazai’s apartment was like the rest of the Armed Detective Agency lodgings in being minimally furnished and honestly a little dingy, but Dazai’s room-and-a-half were personal and cozy enough that it canceled out. The smells were the same as the jacket, touched with some unknown spice. The main furniture piece was a worn and comfortable couch, almost identical to the one in the Agency’s office. It made Atsushi wonder if Dazai had just stolen and replaced that sofa at some point. Strewn about here and there were gauzy remnants of bandages, empty crab meat cans and scattered sheets of paper. The mess reduced the size of the room, but Atsushi had found that preferable to the cleanliness of some other Agency member’s homes.
After they’d removed their shoes, Dazai took his coat off Atsushi’s shoulders with a gentleness that only showed when they were alone. He hummed a little while he took the sleeves off of Atsushi’s arms, making certain that the silver-haired boy knew he wasn’t supposed to be doing any of the work here. Once the coat was off Dazai tossed it drape over an arm of the couch, and replaced the warmth it had provided by wrapping his arms around Atsushi and holding him tightly. Atsushi melted into the embrace, putting his arms around Dazai and linking his fingers together just above the other man’s hips. They stayed there like that for a moment, Dazai’s breath ruffling the top of Atsushi’s hair.
Dazai spoke into Atsushi’s hair, his voice low but warm with honest sweetness. “I’m glad you didn’t let me die in the river back then.”
Atsushi couldn’t find the words to express how much that meant to him, so he tried to express it physically. He squeezed more tightly, burying his face Dazai’s chest. The meaning was obvious enough. I’m glad, too. This was Atsushi’s fairy-tale love, with arms wrapped all around him. It was bright and warm enough, yes, but it was here and real. This was what all the questions of the agency had failed to capture, lost in the confusion that Dazai was not capable of truth. It wasn’t something that could be captured in words, so Atsushi could understand why they’d missed it. This genuine Dazai was found only in the setting sun, framed by the mess of his apartment.
Half-drunk on such sudden affection, the two tumbled in a mess of limbs onto Dazai’s couch. After a few minutes, they’d adjusted, each with a book and using Dazai’s coat as a makeshift blanket. The silence was as warm as the embrace had been. After a while, Dazai had set down his book and closed his eyes, content to let Atsushi read in his arms. Atsushi nestled against Dazai’s collarbone, finding it difficult to read when he was comfortable like this, too. Atsushi set his book down and wrapped his arms around Dazai again, lying so he could hear the beat of the other man’s heart. I love you, he thought, thinking it a private confession when in fact he’d said it aloud.
Dazai made a noise and Atsushi looked up, worried. His eyes met Dazai’s, which were wide with surprise at first. Dark hair framed the smile that followed, reaching all the way to those same caramel-colored eyes. “I love you,” Dazai Osamu said, and Atsushi thought his heart was going to burst.
It was the first time Dazai had ever spoken those words to Atsushi. Not quite a confession, but at the same time an enormous one.