Work Text:
It’s late, and Akutagawa Ryuunosuke is tired.
He’s had a tough week. In fact, he’s had a tough last few months. Five months, precisely, passed since the deal with the man-tiger came to life and, although Akutagawa would like for it not to wander around his mind all day, there are reasons why he can’t shrug it off—the main one being the condition the man-tiger set in the first place.
Don’t kill anyone in those six months.
Not most people in the Port Mafia have the guts to talk to Akutagawa, especially when it comes to asking him questions, but that obviously doesn’t apply to his superiors. It was Nakahara Chuuya who requested his presence first, months ago, and gently demanded to hear about the deal. According to him, it had reached the Boss’ ears, and he wanted to know to which extent that would jeopardize his efficiency at the job. Akutagawa assured him, though, that it wouldn’t affect it at all. That is how, in the last times, he found himself ten times more pressured, a hundred times more stressed and a thousand times more exhausted.
He doesn’t understand it—the reason behind the man-tiger’s condition, the meaning behind the words of a fool—and that frustrates him the most. Even if the man-tiger managed to save Kyouka, he couldn’t possibly expect to show Akutagawa to the good side. After living in the shadows for so long, there is no way he would be able to find light without burning his eyes in the process.
This week, Gin is away for a mission. Akutagawa thinks that might be one of the reasons why he’s so utterly on edge lately, even more now than a while ago. He doesn’t talk to his sister about their job, neither does he bring his doubtful thoughts to the table during the rare opportunities they have to simply exist next to each other. It is her presence, the reassurance that he had a life before the Port Mafia—and, some would argue, that he would still have a life if he left—that soothes him. He has trouble figuring out the meaning of “family” to most people, but, to him, Gin is the only family he will ever have.
She has problems too; of course, she does, as an assassin and a member of such an important group as the Black Lizard. Akutagawa is relieved to know, though, that she doesn’t doubt herself half as much as he does. It was always either Nakahara Chuuya or Ozaki Kouyou in charge of her training. They are executives, and they are severe, but they’re not terrible. That alone puts him at ease, at least for a little bit.
Still a wanted man, Akutagawa avoids going out during the day unless it is needed for a mission. He would have no trouble getting rid of whoever would like to face him, but, ever since the deal began, he has been avoiding confrontation. That’s because his ability was made for one thing and one thing only, and the words of that fool took it away from him. Now, he only goes out as the sun disappears, like tonight.
The worst part is that, in a way, he sees the perks in this. Not unnecessarily making a mess, not drawing more suspicious eyes to the Port Mafia. Even if most people turned a blind eye on them, it wasn’t only once or twice that the Boss had to talk directly to Akutagawa so he wouldn’t exaggerate. Now, by being much more careful and avoiding commotions and pointless lives being taken, Akutagawa is efficient in a different way.
Perhaps the man-tiger knew about it—knew about that one single aspect that would change—but Akutagawa wouldn’t like to give him credit enough for that. He would rather believe the man is simply delusional enough to think that those six months would change the person he grew to be for over twenty years.
The pier is nearly empty tonight. There are a few people walking on the streets next to it, but it’s too much of a dangerous place for one to feel comfortable enough to wander around at night. That is, unless that one is Akutagawa Ryuunosuke; in that case, there isn’t much to fear.
Akutagawa breathes better when there are fewer people around. His cough is still there, ever-so-persistent, but it’s much easier to inhale and exhale deeply when he knows no one will come and judge him for his one moment of attempting to regain his posture, for his need to recover at all, as if he were some kind of weakling.
It’s a warm night, and Akutagawa leans forward slightly over the parapet and watches the calm water a few meters under his feet. He then looks up at the ocean and finds that he remembers the events from that time at the ship well enough to have them flashing through his memory. He also remembers each time the infuriating man-tiger was right there, in front of him, and he was unable to defeat him. Unable to prove that he had improved, that he deserved the acknowledgment, and not the fool.
He grew even more powerful in the last five months. This time will be the last.
It’s a good thing that there’s still a month left; not only because Akutagawa could use the extra training, but, because, if he were to meet with the man-tiger tonight and fight him until it was the end for one of them, he might not have been able to do it. He has the power, and he has the strength, and he has the will—and yet, he’s exhausted, and he needs rest, even if he doesn’t admit that to anyone else.
Akutagawa breathes in and out one more time, getting ready to leave, when he hears footsteps slowly approaching him. His hands close into fists and he readies Rashoumon, waiting. Any sudden movement will draw his attention completely and he will tear apart whoever it is in moments.
Well, not tear them apart as per say. He will simply knock them unconscious, which is, really, all he can do.
Two more steps forward. Akutagawa begins turning, stuffing his hands back into his pockets.
“It’s me.”
He turns around completely, teeth gritting, and surges forward with Rashoumon until she is hovering only a few centimeters away from the eyes of the intruder presence. Inside his pockets, his nails dig into his skin. The man standing nothing but two meters away sighs, unaffected by the threat.
“What are you doing here, Akutagawa?”
“That is none of your business, man-tiger,” Akutagawa says, annoyance creeping under his skin at the irony it is that, of all people, he would see the fool tonight. As usual, Nakajima Atsushi looks as if he’s unsure whether he should yell at Akutagawa or simply try to split him in half with his claws. If Akutagawa weren’t as exhausted as he is tonight, he would like to see him try.
Nakajima sighs, “Are you here on some kind of mission?”
Akutagawa squints, “I don’t see how that’s any of your business, either.”
“Save the bite, Akutagawa. It’s an innocent question,” The man-tiger says as he steps forward, and only then, when the light from the pole at the edge of the parapet reaches his face properly does Akutagawa notice there are dark circles under his eyes, “I came here to get some air, but I won’t stay around for a confrontation.”
Scrutinizing him, Akutagawa rolls his eyes, “Surely you must know I have no interest in your company.”
“Shocking.”
“Keep your distance, man-tiger,” He says simply, “Or I’ll give your ability reasons to practice its healing skills.”
Unlike his usual behavior, Nakajima doesn’t snap at him—not that usual according to other people, of course, because the thing about Nakajima Atsushi is that everyone thinks he is a gentle, thoughtful person, but that’s plainly because they aren’t Akutagawa. As Nakajima’s natural enemy and the person who has probably tried taking his life the most, Akutagawa gets special treatment. The annoying, infuriating kind.
Tonight, though, Akutagawa might not be the only one that’s off his game. All Nakajima does is roll his eyes and walk a few meters away, ignoring Rashoumon, supporting his elbows on the parapet and focusing his eyes on the ocean ahead. Akutagawa doesn’t look at him for much longer, but his eyes linger enough for him to see the bruises on the boy’s arms. He looks down and notices there are plenty of those on his legs as well.
Akutagawa then averts his eyes, but, apparently, not quickly enough for the man-tiger not to notice. He clears his throat and says, “Quit staring at me, Akutagawa.”
“How pretentious,” Akutagawa rolls his eyes, coughing softly into his fist.
“What, weren’t you looking at me just now?” Nakajima asks, quirking up an eyebrow challenging—well, at least that seems to be the intention, although the exhaustion on his face causes the challenge to fade away way too fast, “If you’re making up plans on how to surprise attack me, at least have the decency to look elsewhere while you do it.”
Akutagawa looks forward, “I have no intention of attacking you; not for another month. I take it that you haven’t forgotten, man-tiger.”
“What, the deal we made on how we’ll kill each other in a month?” Nakajima squints, “Woah, how could I be careless enough to forget about that? Get a grip, Akutagawa. You don’t have to think about ending people’s lives all the time. I would hope that you would’ve learned that by now.”
“Due to your nonsensical established condition for our deal, that is?”
“Nonsensical?” Nakajima interrupts him, letting out a low, humorless laugh, “What makes sense to you, then? Killing?”
“I haven’t killed anyone in five months,” Akutagawa says, and he briefly realizes there is part of him that wants the man-tiger to believe him—not because his opinion matters, but because this has been hard, and no one acknowledged that. No one. “If that was the only thing that made sense to me, I wouldn’t be able to.”
The man-tiger opens his mouth, most likely to strike back at him, but he stops himself. A sigh escapes his lips and he rubs his face with his hands, “You know, Dazai wanted us to work together. It was probably for a reason. When I asked you about it, you told me not to question his reasons—that I wouldn’t understand, because it is pointless to try to understand him. Well, if I’m not to ask anyone ‘why’ he did, I should at least think he knew what he was doing when he did it.”
“I don’t recall requesting your insight on it.”
“We’re going to fight each other to the end in a month, Akutagawa,” Nakajima lets out, “Why do we have to keep fighting each other now?”
Akutagawa scoffs, “That’s rich coming from the one who provoked this discussion in the first place.”
Nakajima takes a deep sigh, as if he’s biting back a response, and looks away from Akutagawa and at the ocean before them. Akutagawa waits, because there isn’t much more he can do. When Nakajima’s ametrine eyes meet his, there’s a newfound quietness in them, like he managed to figure out the exact cause of his irritation and brush it off in the matter of seconds he stood there.
“My ability is a tiger,” Nakajima begins, ignoring Akutagawa’s scowl, “Your first name is Ryuunosuke, isn’t it? You’re symbolically a dragon. That must be it.”
“That must be what?”
“The tiger and the dragon. The two extreme opposites. Yin and yang,” Nakajima says, simply, as if he expects his words to mean something other than sheer nonsense, “Isn’t there a say on how opposites attract? Well, maybe Dazai saw it fit for a partnership.”
“What a foolish logic,” Akutagawa argues, receiving a frown as a response, “Working with someone whose principles differ completely from yours isn’t a solution, nor does it shape a partnership. It wrecks more than it builds. If your theory applied to us at all, we would have reached at least one common ground.”
Nakajima clicks his tongue, looking back at the water, “How are we supposed to do that when all you can think of is how to hurt me?”
“You talk as if you hold yourself back at all during our fights.”
“Do I ever start them, Akutagawa?” He asks, “Do I? At the ship with Kyouka, all I wanted was to protect her; protect her from you. At the Moby Dick, the entire city was at risk, but you thought it was a great idea to come for me instead of helping. When we were looking for the user of the virus ability, you threatened to interrupt the mission and get rid of me before going ahead.”
He stops, as if he’s waiting for Akutagawa to interrupt him; so, when he does nothing but look to the side and cough softly, the man-tiger proceeds.
“We’re not incapable of working together, alright? We’ve seen what we can do. We defeated Fitzgerald, we defeated Ivan. When we made that deal, I believed your word when you said you weren’t going to kill for these six months.”
“And I haven’t.”
“Why, then?” Nakajima asks as if it’s his final question, exhaling deeply, “Why do we have to be constantly at each other’s throats? Doesn’t it ever make you tired?”
Yes, it does.
All the time.
He’s not going to tell him that, though. Instead, all he does is look forward one more time—although, by now, he can’t focus on the ocean or it’s quietness anymore. If the bruises all over his skin are any indication, the man-tiger’s been enduring some kind of intense training lately. Akutagawa doesn’t believe it is too pretentious of him to believe that the reason is their soon-to-be battle. As the Rabid Dog of the Port Mafia, he has been too busy to be able to go through any specific training; still, experience is essential, and if the man-tiger has to work so hard in order to defeat him, how come Akutagawa hasn’t manage to take him down even once before?
Akutagawa barely realizes his thoughts have lead him back to side-eye Nakajima’s bruises before the man-tiger lets out an exasperated huff.
“If you have anything you’d like to say,” He begins, annoyed, “Say it, Akutagawa.”
Akutagawa rolls his eyes, “I have nothing to say to you.”
“I never took you for a coward, you know.”
As always, the minimal insinuation that Akutagawa might be scared of something gets under his skin as fast as anything humanly could, and he clicks his tongue before speaking, “I hope you’re not forcing your body and using that an excuse not to fight me when the time comes, man-tiger.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, when you told me to ‘fully prepare myself’, where you referring to my mental health rather than my physical state?” Nakajima asks, brows quirking up, “Or were you expecting me to fully prepare myself with some easy training?”
“All I’m saying is, I won’t go easy on you because you pushed yourself too hard.”
Nakajima opens his mouth, beginning to say something, but stops himself and squints hard at Akutagawa. The latter averts his eyes, once again not wishing to hear any of the man-tiger’s inspirational and foolish quotes. Instead, Nakajima crosses his arms and turns around fully to look at him.
“There is absolutely zero chance that you’re actually worrying about me,” He says, sounding utterly incredulous, “Right?”
Nearly snapping his neck with how quickly he turns his head towards the man-tiger, Akutagawa squints, “Have you truly lost your mind now?”
Nakajima raises his arms as in surrender, and Akutagawa struggles to believe he’s seeing the actual shadow of a smile on his lips, “I’m just saying. It isn’t exactly common for you to tell someone ‘not to push themselves too hard’ unless you’re worrying about them.”
“Has it slipped your mind that I expect a fair fight?”
“Sure, Akutagawa. Sure,” The man-tiger says, although he’s still half-smiling a few seconds later, when he speaks again, “I’m not hurt, you know. I’ve been asking Kunikida and Kenji to help me with some of the training. I took some, well, disturbing advice from Yosano as well.”
Akutagawa’s fists in his pockets tighten, “I don’t recall asking you anything.”
“As I was saying just now, before you interrupted me,” Nakajima proceeds, willing his eyebrows challengingly, “I also asked Kyouka to help me with some combat skills she’s learned from you.”
“What?” Akutagawa squints.
“Do you have hearing problems, Akutagawa?”
“Surely you must know the treatment Kyouka was under when she was my subordinate,” Akutagawa says, “It sounds unlike you and your foolish morals to ask her about it.”
“Kyouka has everything under control,” Nakajima says, sounding slightly defensive, “It doesn’t hurt her to think about some of the skills she’s learned, and the ones that hurt her, I never ask anything about. Besides, you did lessen the burden when you faced her during the Cannibalism.”
Akutagawa nearly says “what?” again, but he contains himself. He thinks he might know what Nakajima is talking about, but the thought is ridiculous. It cannot be that a simple phrase, something so small and simple for him to say, would’ve helped Kyouka get over the things that happened at the Port Mafia.
But then again—wasn’t his reaction at the sheer compliment he received from Dazai a lot more than anyone would’ve believed as well?
“I didn’t teach her most of the things I know today,” Akutagawa states, “Knowing about the things I’ve taught her won’t help you defeat me.”
“You sound pretty confident for the guy whose each attempt to kill me failed,” The man-tiger says, the infuriating light tone of his voice reaching Akutagawa’s core, “What kind of training have you been going through, anyway? Who helps you back at the Port Mafia?”
“I’m not answering your questions, man-tiger.”
“I met your sister once, you know,” Nakajima says, apparently determined not to shut up for the rest of the night all of sudden, “I didn’t know you even had a sister, but, hey, Higuchi didn’t know either. I wonder if you kept it a secret for safety reasons at the Port Mafia.”
Akutagawa grits his teeth, “There is no such thing as keeping a secret at the Port Mafia. Higuchi didn’t know because Gin and I have no reason to see each other at work. She’s a member of the Black Lizard. She responds only to the ones that are directly in charge of her group, and so, we work separately.”
“But you do live together.”
Akutagawa readies Rashoumon, about to threaten the man-tiger in order to learn how he knows that, but he makes it unnecessary by stretching out his arms, yawning and speaking again.
“I think you must’ve heard about it already—the way Higuchi freaked out because she thought your sister was some kind of spy living with you. She saw you going home together,” He says, “That’s what she told us back then.”
Damn Higuchi, Akutagawa hisses to himself, always saying more than she has to.
“I’m not training with Gin, if that’s what you’re suggesting,” Akutagawa says, finally, and Nakajima’s surprised face mirrors the way he feels—because, if anyone asked hm why he saw it fit to tell him that in the first place, “She’s an assassin. She doesn’t see the point in any of this.”
That’s only half true. It is true that Gin doesn’t feel the need to prove herself to anyone specific, nor does she believe there is someone she must defeat in order to move on, but she always tries to see things through her brother’s point of view. That’s personal, though, and the man-tiger doesn’t have to hear about it.
“What about the other people in the Port Mafia?” Nakajima asks. “Do they know about the deal?”
Akutagawa looks down as the wind blows next to them, moving some leaves around the ground, “The executives do. So does the Boss. How, exactly, does this interest you?”
“Everyone at the Agency knows,” The man-tiger tells him, promptly ignoring his question, “Some of them had complaints about it; especially Tanizaki, if I’m being honest. He thinks I should’ve said no.”
That’s not unlike the things Akutagawa would’ve expected from the fools at the Agency. It does sound odd that only one of them would defy Nakajima’s decision to go along with Akutagawa’s deal, so he says, “It isn’t difficult to believe the fools from the Armed Detective Agency wouldn’t see reason.”
“This isn’t about seeing reason, Akutagawa,” Nakajima says, squinting, “Tanizaki is my friend. So is everyone else at the Agency. He didn’t want me to be a part of this—which doesn’t mean he doesn’t understand. Even if the others didn’t object, I know they would’ve preferred for me to say no too, because no one likes seeing someone they care about going out for a fight to the death.”
He’s right. Akutagawa always detests to admit when someone he finds so infuriating as the man-tiger is right, but he is. Gin asks him nothing about the deal, even if she asks about how well he’s been taking care of his health—or, in his case, how ‘not so badly’ he’s been taking care of his health. Higuchi appears to be uneven whenever the executives demand to know about the progress regarding the deal. Even Nakahara Chuuya, whom he has only worked with a few times, made it clear that he wouldn’t accept it if Akutagawa lost to Dazai’s new protégée.
“The detectives do sound like they have a lot of free time to be concerned about your wellbeing, man-tiger,” Akutagawa says, because, all of sudden, he doesn’t feel like proceeding with that conversation anymore. He doesn’t want to think about the things Nakajima seems to want him to think.
“Why would you think it takes time to be concerned about someone?” Nakajima asks, rolling his eyes, although his face isn’t showing half the annoyance it did a few minutes ago. “I’ll have you know we probably have a lot more work to do than you and the rest of the mafiosos.”
Akutagawa covers his mouth with his hand to cover up a cough and sends him a deadpan look—which is, really, just a regular look for him, “I find that very hard to believe.”
“We have to work solving the problems of the entire city.”
“No, you have to work solving the problems in the surface of the city, which are easy,” Akutagawa says, “You would be astonished to know, man-tiger, how many problems are actually left for us at the underground to work on. We are busy all the time.”
Nakajima crosses his arms, “Yeah, you do seem really busy right now.”
Akutagawa clicks his tongue, “Does it appear to be within business hours right now?”
“What, does the Port Mafia work within business hours?” The man-tiger frowns, “How do you even tell people that? ‘I’m sorry, sir, we cannot send our team to kidnap the person you’d like us to right now, because we’re five minutes past six p.m. Please, ring us again tomorrow.’”
“The image you have of the Port Mafia and the way we operate is truly outrageous, man-tiger,” He says, although the bite isn’t quite right. He’s still exhausted, but, surprisingly, he finds that talking to the man-tiger doesn’t exactly aggravate it. “Have Kyouka tell you about it.”
Nakajima shakes his head, “I don’t have to. I’ve seen the way you do things the first time Kyouka got a job at the Agency.”
Akutagawa squints, “Didn’t you watch over her?”
“Well, of course, but there isn’t much you can do when you’re not expecting the person you’re watching over to slip your hands and nearly dispose of the person who hired her in the first place,” The man-tiger says, smiling at the memory, and Akutagawa thinks about the words he told Kyouka back at the confrontation they had during the Cannibalism—about being glad for her. If this is the treatment she gets at the Agency, he thinks he might be even more satisfied at the thought of saying that. There is even more reason to be glad for her, after all.
“The jobs you get mustn’t be that hard, after all,” Akutagawa says, and Nakajima quirks up an eyebrow challengingly at him, “If you can afford to look away for a second or two.”
The man-tiger raises his index finger, “I’ll have you know that’s completely wrong. We have the hardest jobs. There was this one time with a bomb, and I can assure you that you wouldn’t have gotten to the bottom of that half as quickly as we did, and…”
And so, he goes on, telling Akutagawa about the job although Akutagawa doesn’t hear half of it, because he’s too busy dwelling on how to even behave around a Nakajima Atsushi that doesn’t acknowledge him as the man whose primary goal at the moment is to take him down.
This could be one of Dazai’s strategies. He could’ve told Nakajima to distract Akuagawa, to confuse him in order for him to lose his focus. Albeit he wouldn’t find that odd at all, considering his former mentor’s history, there is part of him that doubts the man-tiger would be willing to use such methods. As the fool he is, he would probably rather lose than sabotage his enemy in order to win.
Truly, truly pathetic.
Nakajima quits his blabbering many minutes later, and, when he does, he throws himself at the bench next to him, seemingly tired, “Hey, look. It’s almost dawn.”
Akutagawa follows his eyes and sees the yellowish trace of the sun beginning to steal the moon’s stage, slowly taking over its place as the sky’s rightful ruler. It reminds Akutagawa that a new day is about to begin, and he’s about to have other thousands of things to do, and there hasn’t been a minute of rest in his schedule for the night.
Still, for some reason, he doesn’t feel such exhaustion anymore.
“Here,” The man-tiger says, and Akutagawa looks down to find his arm stretched out and his hand filled with a bag of some kind of multicolored candy—the kinds one would hope to find in a child’s hands, not an adult’s. When he squints at him, Nakajima rolls his eyes, “It’s not poisoned, Akutagawa.”
“I’m not eating that, man-tiger. I have self-preservation skills.”
“Do you, really?” Nakajima asks, shrugging, “Sheesh, why do I find that hard to believe?”
Akutagawa sends him a pointed look, to which Nakajima simply rolls his eyes again.
“Relax, Akutagawa. The candy won’t kill you,” He says, meeting his eyes, and, for a moment, Akutagawa has the—most likely mistaken—impression that he sees a sad smile on his lips, “If everything goes according to plan, I will.”
Somehow, the weight those words seem to have on Nakajma’s tongue convinces Akutagawa not to give him much more trouble for now. He reaches quickly for the bag, grabs one of the candies and chews it. He looks ahead, at the rising sun, so that he doesn’t have to look at the man-tiger anymore. And, against all odds, Akutagawa waits for the dawn alongside him.
When the sun is fully visible, Nakajima crumbles the bag of candy and throws it in the trash can next to them. He then stretches out his arms one more time and looks at Akutagawa.
“I’ll see you in a month, then.”
Akutagawa nods, nearly imperceptibly, “One more month, man-tiger.”
As Nakajima walks away, Akutagawa takes one last look at the sea and feels the phone in his right pocket vibrating. He grabs it, quickly picking up at the sight of Higuchi’s name on the screen.
“I just got a call. We’re needed. Have you managed to get some rest?”
Akutagawa clears his throat, “Yes, I did.”
Surprisingly, he finds that it isn’t a lie.