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Everything was blue.
Ocean blue, opaque blue, a blue that covered him whole and muffled his senses, that made the outside world nothing but indistinct shapes and sounds.
“Nakahara, tell us about the Mafia’s alliances with other organizations.”
Chuuya wanted to burrow deeper into the blue, but something pierced him, first in his arm and then everywhere, needles breaking the skin and pushing through, threading wires through his muscles and bones. For a moment his vision swam and the blue was gone, replaced by a room with three people.
“I—“
“Tell me.” Mori appeared in front of him, the office slowly coming together. “Tell me about the links the Mafia has to the government.”
Mori should have known these things.
“Your comrades will die if you don’t.”
A flash of blood, Akutagawa lying on the ground bleeding out, impaled by Rashomon straight through the chest.
“Tell me about Corruption.”
Chuuya’s arms were stained, the darkness spreading, and he had to stop it. He dug his nails into his skin, the pain distant, as if he could cut out the infection. Other hands grabbed his, now covered in blood.
His mouth moved and he realized he was apologizing for not being there in time.
The blue washed over him again, numbing the hurt and blurring everything, sight and sound.
It began again.
*
Akutagawa killed every single person in the building after he saw Chuuya.
He was glad that the six months he’d bet jinko that he wouldn’t kill anyone had passed. Even if they hadn’t, his blood burned with fury. He would have killed anyway.
The smaller local organization he’d killed wanted information on the Port Mafia. They were an organization of Ability users the Mafia had dealt with before who tended to sell information to other, larger organizations. Mori didn’t have much trouble figuring out who had taken Chuuya based a brief investigation, but the more troubling part was that they’d taken him at all. They had probably studied the various Mafia members to see who would provide the most information and how to best capture them.
Mori would probably be displeased that Akutagawa had killed everyone rather than left someone alive to interrogate, but Akutagawa didn’t care. Surely if they’d dealt with these people before they knew enough.
It took a few days to actually find where they were keeping Chuuya. Initially the search took them outside of the city, only for them to circle back and find out that they were hiding in a building in Mafia territory. It was stupidly smart.
When Akutagawa found him, Chuuya wasn’t chained to anything nor was he extensively bound. His wrists were cuffed together, blood dripping from beneath the metal, and he was hooked up to an IV. They’d placed him on a hospital bed in a locked room in the basement of the otherwise unassuming building. He was awake, sitting up, his glassy eyes staring at Akutagawa as if he couldn’t comprehend what he was seeing.
Akutagawa didn’t know how to deal with this. He took a deep breath and walked over slowly, reaching out to grab Chuuya’s arm so he could take the IV out and uncuff his wrists.
Chuuya abruptly jerked back, scrambling off the bed and practically tearing the IV out of his arm in the process. He almost fell over but managed to support himself against the bed, keeping his eyes trained on Akutagawa’s face.
“Chuuya-san,” Akutagawa said.
Chuuya was breathing heavily. “Chuuya-san?” He sounded very, very confused.
Akutagawa didn’t understand why Chuuya didn’t recognize him. He must have been heavily drugged and it was affecting his state of mind. “Chuuya-san, it’s me, Akutagawa. I’m taking you back to the Port Mafia.”
It took those words a bit too long to register. “What?”
“Akutagawa. Please, Chuuya-san, I just need to take out your IV and uncuff you so we can go back.”
“You need to…”
“Take out your IV and take off the handcuffs.”
Chuuya glanced at his arm. Blood trickled from the IV site, which looked very bruised. His forearms were covered in scabbing gashes. “Fine.”
Akutagawa walked over and grabbed Chuuya’s arm. Chuuya stiffened like he was going to pull away, but Akutagawa held him tight and pulled out the IV slowly. Then he looked at the handcuffs and used Rashomon to break them. Chuuya again tried to pull away, but Akutagawa only let go once the handcuffs fell to the floor.
Realizing what had happened, Chuuya didn’t try to move further away. He rubbed his wrists.
“Okay,” Akutagawa said. “Let’s go.”
Chuuya nodded and waited for Akutagawa to start walking. Once Akutagawa did, he followed unsteadily. It was weird that he could still walk and yet he hadn’t left, but it was also becoming apparent why this was the case.
It was a bit jarring how normal everything looked outside. The building holding Chuuya was unharmed, but anyone who stepped inside would immediately see the carnage left in Akutagawa’s wake. Others from the Mafia would likely come around later to raid it for information.
Once they got out onto the street, Chuuya paused. Akutagawa wanted to grab him by the arm and drag him down the street towards the car he’d called for them, but he wasn’t sure how Chuuya would react to that given how he’d reacted earlier to Akutagawa grabbing him.
Chuuya was looking around like he’d never seen the outside before. It had been a few days, but not enough that he should have looked so shaken.
“Chuuya-san,” Akutagawa said, “this way.”
As they walked, Akutagawa notes how off-balance Chuuya was. He was usually so sure of his movements, so fluid, that Akutagawa didn’t really know how to process this.
All of this was incredibly different to what Akutagawa knew, like who Chuuya was had been stripped away.
Luckily there weren’t many people around and the car wasn’t far. Once they got there, Akutagawa opened the door to the backseat.
Chuuya stared at the car. “No.”
“I can’t walk you back,” Akutagawa said.
“Back where?”
“The Port Mafia infirmary.”
Chuuya was quiet for a moment. “Don’t take me there.” His words were halting, like each one took a lot of effort to think about, let alone say out loud.
“You can trust me.” Those words felt weird coming out of his mouth.
Chuuya swallowed. “Then take me back to my apartment.”
Akutagawa would have rather dropped Chuuya off at the infirmary, but he nodded. “Fine. Please get in the car.”
Chuuya managed to get into the car without assistance, and Akutagawa got in after him and gave the driver Chuuya’s address. Given Chuuya’s state, he could have just had them taken to headquarters anyway, but this was the first time Akutagawa had seen Chuuya completely reliant on someone else and as out of his depth as he felt, he didn’t want to break the small amount of trust Chuuya had given him.
Chuuya leaned heavily against the car door during the drive. Once they reached the apartment, the driver pulled up to the sidewalk and Akutagawa helped Chuuya out of the car. Chuuya seemed more disoriented, stumbling when Akutagawa guided him to the sidewalk.
“I feel sick,” he mumbled.
“Please don’t be sick here, Chuuya-san,” Akutagawa said. There were people around and Akutagawa didn’t want to capture their attention. He was sure Chuuya wouldn’t want anyone to notice anything about his compromised state right now.
Akutagawa led Chuuya inside, past the lobby concierge and to the elevator. He was grateful that he was familiar with where Chuuya lived, so he didn’t have to pry the information out of Chuuya or waste time trying to figure anything out.
Getting into his apartment was more difficult, but Rashomon made an excellent lockpick. Chuuya was leaning heavily against him as they crossed the threshold.
Akutagawa debated on where to put Chuuya. The bed was the most comfortable option, but Chuuya had said that he felt sick, and looking at him Akutagawa saw that he looked sick, so he opted for the bathroom instead. They could always move later.
Chuuya’s bathroom was nice, at least. Akutagawa set him down so that his back was against the bath, which kept him upright by the toilet. He began going through Chuuya’s cabinets looking for anything that could help.
He found an array of medical supplies and set aside bandages, disinfectant, and creams. There were pain meds, but Akutagawa was sure that Chuuya didn’t want anything else in his system.
Chuuya coughed into the toilet. Akutagawa thought he was going to be sick, but after a moment Chuuya leaned back again.
Akutagawa took the stuff he’d set aside and knelt down in front of Chuuya. He reached out and grabbed Chuuya’s left arm, intending to clean the wounds and bandage it, but Chuuya jerked his hand back.
“Chuuya-san--”
“Don’t touch me,” Chuuya hissed. His eyes were wide and glassy, and something about the way he was looking at the room made Akutagawa believe he wasn’t all there.
“Chuuya-san, I just want to clean your wounds,” Akutagawa said.
“But the needles and--”
“I don’t have any needles.” He was grateful he didn’t have to stitch Chuuya up. “Please, Chuuya-san, give me your arm.”
Chuuya hesitated, but extended his arm towards Akutagawa, who noticed that his fingertips were covered in dried blood. He began wiping the blood off first so that he could get a better look at what was injured and what wasn’t.
“I let you down, didn’t I,” Chuuya murmured.
Akutagawa didn’t know what he was talking about and didn’t want to respond to that statement. Instead, he kept cleaning the wounds, spreading disinfectant on them before wrapping bandages around Chuuya’s arm. If it hurt, Chuuya didn’t react to the pain. There wasn’t much Akutagawa could do about the injury caused by the IV.
Cleaning Chuuya’s right arm was met with less resistance, and Akutagawa got the job done faster. Once that arm was bandaged, he moved back a little to give Chuuya space.
“Is there anything else?” he asked, trying to think of what someone in the infirmary would ask. “Any other injuries?”
“I’m fine,” Chuuya said absently.
Akutagawa almost protested that, but realized he would’ve said the same thing in Chuuya’s place. He watched as Chuuya seemed to resist letting his guard down, his eyes flitting around the room, gaze catching on something every few seconds that made his breath hitch before moving on. Akutagawa wondered what he was seeing.
It was clear now that whatever Chuuya had been given was somehow altering his reality. The effects were probably wearing off, but they were still present. Akutagawa didn’t want to think about what Chuuya might have been made to see or think or even do under the full effects of the drugs.
He didn’t have much experience dealing with drugs. Most of his injuries came from fights and overexertion. The cases of torture that he was familiar with involved physical harm rather than drugging the victim. These people were smart, in a way, because Chuuya was a hard person to contain, let alone hurt, with normal methods. Drugs, if given unexpectedly and maintained, could keep even someone as strong as Chuuya down.
Akutagawa wondered how much they were able to get out of Chuuya when he was like this. Maybe Chuuya’s strong sense of loyalty to the Mafia would have prevented him from giving away information even in his compromised state.
The silence had stretched on for too long.
“Do you want anything?” Akutagawa asked.
Chuuya shook his head, his eyes trained on Akutagawa’s face.
It was unnerving. It was also strange being in Chuuya’s apartment for this length of time. He never spent time in anyone’s apartment except his own, or Gin’s. This was new.
Chuuya finally stopped staring at Akutagawa, twisting towards the toilet and retching. Akutagawa wasn’t sure whether to hold his hair back or not, given that Chuuya kept reacting badly to being touched.
Chuuya retched again, but nothing came up. There probably wasn’t much in his stomach. Akutagawa took a chance and let Rashomon drift towards Chuuya, using it to gently push back his hair.
“Stop that,” Chuuya said, but there wasn’t much force behind it. “What are you doing?”
“Helping,” Akutagawa said. “I can hold your hair--”
“Don’t.” Chuuya took a shaky breath. “I need to see you.”
“What about Rashomon?”
“Rashomon…” Chuuya lifted his head to glance at Akutagawa, which gave him a better view of Rashomon. “Rashomon wasn’t there.” He thought about it. “Rashomon is fine.”
Akutagawa nodded, using Rashomon to pull Chuuya’s hair back again. Once Chuuya felt like he could move, maybe they would go to the living room. Or the bedroom. The bedroom was a weird thought. If Chuuya slept, Akutagawa could relax for a bit and actually think about what he should do in this situation.
He didn’t know how to care for people. Gin was the one who was good at caring for people, and Akutagawa sometimes tried to take care of her. She never complained, but she was his sister. Other people would probably have less than good opinions of his caretaking.
He knew that different people needed different types of care, too. He didn’t want anyone aside from Gin to care for him because he didn’t want to appear weak. If he had to, he might grudgingly accept care from a handful of people. He’d never seen Chuuya need caring for, so he didn’t know how Chuuya felt. The drugged state wasn’t helping.
Chuuya heaved, this time bringing up bile. Akutagawa winced as he emptied his stomach--it sounded painful. In the back of his head he remembered that tea could be soothing for the stomach--something Gin had taught him. Water would work too, but tea could be the better alternative. He tried to remember which kind of tea.
If he made tea, he would have to leave Chuuya alone in the bathroom. Something about doing that made Akutagawa uncomfortable. He didn’t know if Chuuya could be alone in this compromised state.
Right now Chuuya was shaking, gripping the toilet seat hard, but he’d stopped vomiting. Akutagawa withdrew Rashomon and cleared his throat. “Do you want tea?”
“Tea,” Chuuya muttered.
“It can help,” Akutagawa offered.
Chuuya glanced at him. “You know how to make tea?”
Akutagawa wasn’t sure how to answer that question, but he saw a slight smile tugging at the corner of Chuuya’s lips, the first sign that Chuuya was actually himself since Akutagawa had found him.
“Of course,” Akutagawa said, standing up. “Don’t leave.”
“I won’t.”
Akutagawa stood up and headed into the kitchen, hoping that Chuuya actually had tea. Rummaging through the cabinets, he saw that Chuuya had a variety of teas, mostly unused. He quickly took out his phone to look up the different types of tea, but once he heard Chuuya being sick again he decided to focus on teas that helped nausea.
Any tea containing ginger or peppermint was apparently good for someone who felt sick. Luckily, Chuuya had a ginger and lemon tea that Akutagawa could use.
It took a few minutes to boil the water. There hadn’t been any sounds from the bathroom during that time, which was either good or concerning.
Akutagawa decided to keep the teabag in the teacup for now. He took the teacup back to the bathroom.
Chuuya was leaning back against the bathtub again. Akutagawa handed him the cup of tea.
“Thank you,” he said. He seemed hesitant to drink it, but after a moment he did take a sip.
While Chuuya slowly drank his tea, Akutagawa thought about what should happen next. If Chuuya felt better after drinking the tea, there was no reason for them to stay in the bathroom. If Chuuya didn’t, then that at least gave him more time to think.
He was tempted to call someone else, but he couldn’t really think of anyone else. Kouyou was an option, but she was busy. Black Lizard knew Chuuya, but probably not well enough. Akutagawa himself didn’t know Chuuya that well considering he’d never spent a long time in his apartment before. He wondered how many problems Chuuya dealt with on his own.
The two of them were lost in thought for quite a while before Chuuya cleared his throat. “The tea was good,” he said.
Akutagawa nodded. “We should leave the bathroom. If you can.”
“I think so.” He used the edge of the bathtub for leverage to pull himself up.
Akutagawa moved forward, but Chuuya held out a hand to stop him.
“I got it.”
Akutagawa stepped back so that Chuuya could come through. He was unsteady, but he didn’t fall, and Akutagawa expected him to go to the bedroom so that he could sleep.
Instead, Chuuya turned the opposite direction, heading for the living room.
“Shouldn’t you sleep?” Akutagawa asked, following him.
“No,” Chuuya said. He sank onto the couch but every line of his body was tense.
“Chuuya-san, I really think you should.” The words sounded wrong coming out of Akutagawa’s mouth, but Chuuya looked exhausted and it would probably be easier to sleep off the effects of the drugs.
“No,” Chuuya insisted. “I can’t. The last time I did I failed.”
Akutagawa had no idea what that meant. “Failed what?”
“Failed you! Failed everyone--they died. You died.”
“I’m right here,” Akutagawa said.
Chuuya glared up at him. “But for how long?” His voice cracked.
“What do you mean, for how long?”
“The last time didn’t last this long,” Chuuya said. He stood up again. Akutagawa was tempted to push him back down. “This is...I don’t know what to think. You’ve never been in my apartment before.”
“It’s weird for me, too,” Akutagawa muttered.
“You don’t make me tea. How did I get here?” Chuuya demanded. “This isn’t how it works.” He pushed past Akutagawa, heading into the kitchen and opening and closing each cabinet and drawer. Akutagawa had no idea what he was looking for, but before he could figure it out Chuuya had moved on with surprising speed to the living room.
The bedroom was next. Akutagawa followed Chuuya down the hallway and watched as he practically turned his bedroom upside down. He found his knife and considered it, and Akutagawa wondered if he was going to have to fight him for it, but then he tossed it aside.
“It probably hurts either way,” he said under his breath, and left the bedroom for the bathroom.
There were very few things in the bathroom, as it was a pretty sparse place. The teacup gave Chuuya pause, but in the end he ignored it and went back out to the living room, stopping in front of the couch and swaying on his feet, his exhaustion clear.
“Chuuya-san,” Akutagawa said from behind him.
Chuuya turned around and Akutagawa saw that he looked lost, confused, and scared. Chuuya never looked any of those things and it almost felt like Akutagawa was looking at someone else. That look stole Akutagawa’s breath away.
Then Chuuya moved towards him, and Akutagawa noticed how erratic his breathing was. He didn’t move as Chuuya lightly touched his arm, his neck, his face, and his hair. He took Akutagawa’s left hand and examined it and repeated the same with the right hand. Again, Akutagawa had no idea what Chuuya was looking for.
“Rashomon,” Chuuya said, his voice low.
Akutagawa allowed his coat to shift into Rashomon, his Ability hovering behind him. Chuuya reached up to touch it, trailing his fingers along Rashomon’s head. As he did, Akutagawa resisted the urge to attack, because no one touched Rashomon gently. Eventually Chuuya stepped back.
“I don’t know,” he said. “Fuck. I don’t know.”
Akutagawa had no idea how to comfort him. “Chuuya-san,” he said quietly, “please sit.”
Chuuya hesitated but then sat down, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his thighs and putting his head in his hands.
“You can sleep,” Akutagawa said.
“I can’t,” Chuuya said, his voice muffled. “I really can’t.”
“You can.” Akutagawa didn’t touch him. He hoped his words would be enough. “When you wake up I’ll be here, and you’ll still be in your apartment.”
“What if I’m not?” Chuuya lifted his head and looked at Akutagawa, barely masking the fear that he must have felt.
Akutagawa could now see why bringing Chuuya to the infirmary would’ve been a bad idea. “You will be. I promise.”
Chuuya let Akutagawa’s words wash over him and nodded. “Okay. Okay. If--when I wake up here--can I talk to you later?” he asked. “I just need to talk to someone, or even just to be here, to...feel like myself again.”
“You can,” Akutagawa said. “I’ll stay.”
Chuuya gave him a slight smile, more recognizable than the one in the bathroom earlier, and seemed to pull parts of himself back together as he glanced around one more time before looking at Akutagawa again. “Thank you. I--it’ll be fine.”
“Yes,” Akutagawa said. “It will.”
Chuuya leaned back and then looked at Akutagawa. “Do you mind if I lean against you?”
It was a surprising question. He almost asked why but decided not to. “It’s fine.”
Chuuya smiled. “Thank you.” He settled his weight against Akutagawa and closed his eyes.
Akutagawa tried to relax as well. He wasn’t used to this, but Chuuya seemed to draw some sort of comfort from it, and he found he didn’t mind that much. Chuuya was warm, and the way he was leaning against him didn’t feel overbearing. Akutagawa was tempted to run his fingers through Chuuya’s hair like Gin had done for him once or twice, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to do it.
This whole thing had left him shaken. He had no doubt that Chuuya would be himself again soon, but Akutagawa felt like Chuuya had trusted him with something huge. He could have sent Akutagawa away and tried to recover alone, but he didn’t.
As strange and tense as it had been to take care of Chuuya, Akutagawa felt a sense of satisfaction that he could help. This was the sort of thing he didn’t believe he could do.
He closed his eyes and relaxed bit by bit as Chuuya’s breaths evened out.
He would stay as long as Chuuya needed him to.