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Nakajima Atsushi, third year major in drama and literature. Also perhaps in need of an entire year off from university and everything else that comes in between him and a break. He’s not going to acknowledge that, though, his script won’t write itself and heaven knows he needs this script to attain said break that is slowly becoming a necessity essential for him to live up to 30 than a word that feels like admitting to his mom that his wet dream was not with a girl.
Yes, Nakajima Atsushi feels very guilty about resting when he’s in no place to, and he doesn’t have a mom to admit that he’s gay to either.
He’s gone out from his class just in time to meet up with the members of Ranpo’s not-fully-but-sorta-established detective club, whose purpose was more on being a hobby club than the high school detective-esque club everyone thought it would be, which already seemed like a completely foreign concept because one, no one among them is planning on becoming a detective, save for Ranpo who seemed willing enough to work as one as a hobby, and who does that, and two, they’re not in high school, they’re in college, where everyone is tired and wasted and are simply just trying to get through, no time for murder cases within school premises.
Atsushi likes his friends. Dazai took him into the club when he was a fumbling first year in the registry office unsure of what course to take, deciding that there’s no harm in being true to what his heart wants instead of being what society wants for him (or whatever Dazai told him that day). Kunikida has taken a liking to his dedication to his field of study and to Atsushi’s overall personality of being the too good to be true good boy (would most likely not hesitate to sign Atsushi’s adoption papers and still be in complete denial of how much he seems to care for Stsushi). Yosano’s not always with them because being a medicine student takes up a lot of her time, but he’s talked with her enough to know that he can also rely on Yosano for some things he may not bring himself to ask the others (truth to be told, Yosano was probably implying dead bodies, but he’s unsure if it’s because of the fact that they think he thinks the others aren’t capable of handling dead bodies, which is something Atsushi has long debunked, or if it’s because Yosano is indeed the best person to approach when it comes to those). Ranpo, who’s a little too smart and a little too overwhelming in an oddly nice way, who also managed to break down Atsushi’s entire past life including every aspect of his trauma (which Atsushi’s still slightly horrified about because there is no way a person could do that), to which Atsushi is also slowly learning not to disturb his daily shrine of convenience store sweets by the corner of the club room. The Tanizaki siblings are as good as they can get, had the... excessive skinship and intimacy the two shared didn’t get to him as much as he thought it would. And Kenji was Kenji. He liked Kenji a lot. The boy buys a lot of food for the club.
That's exactly why he told them how he’s been thinking of getting a break (save for semestral breaks, of course, or when there’s nothing to do for the week, which happens maybe twice in a year, probably more so now that he’s in his third year). Atsushi comes to regret that decision just a little, teeny, tiny bit. He understands where they’re coming from, after all. All this screeching is reasonable.
The ringing in his ears and the sudden onslaught of a headache would like to differ otherwise.
His said friends — Ranpo vouched for them, too, total shocker — did not hesitate to tell (yell almost being a slightly better term to use) him that they thought the same. Atsushi, you work harder than anyone else in the entire campus. Atsushi, the professors are giving you concerned remarks each time you go out of class, you’ve got to start realizing stuff when even they start caring, Nakajima-kun, we’re hypnotizing you and telling you that you are to embark on a 80-hour long journey in dreamland, Bakajima Atsushi is such an overachiever, you might as well be in Broadway now, and a lot of other sentences he didn’t bother remembering. It wasn’t like they didn’t have a point, though — the more he thought about this well-deserved break of his, the more the itch in his body that’s forcing him to close all Google Docs tabs and all books and notebooks and throw his laptop out of his window becomes stronger and harder to shake off. It’s like a curse that actually worked no matter how bizarre its means were.
It wasn’t long before he found himself sneaking out the room after they began to fight over whether or not Atsushi deserved a break or a rest, how they even found a difference between the two, he doesn’t and wouldn’t want to know. He shoots a quick text to the next person he can think of, and he’s responded with meet me at a small campus cafe. the one with cheap cakes. ten minutes.
Atsushi’s sipping a cup of hot mocha as the person sitting across him stirs his triple shot vanilla latte. He pretends to not let the question is everything okay show on his face, even though he’s practically wiggling himself on his chair like a worm in a tight jar just to do so.
“Er, um... Chuuya-san, your coffee is-“
“No big deal, kiddo. what’s going on? Did a shitty person decide to shit on you today or what?”
So he tells the older boy what happened and the thoughts that had been plaguing him since he began his recent play’s script. Chuuya was someone who he came to meet around his second year, lounging on Dazai’s couch and getting drunk at three in the afternoon as he yelled profanities to Dazai and to his theatre arts professor Atsushi also shared the same sentiments with and quite possibly everything else in the room, save for the slightly intimidated and slightly amazed Atsushi who entered the room, to which he calls a walking rice cake. The human embodiment of rice cake, to be precise. Dazai wasn’t really fond of the entire mentor-student relationship that formed between them, whether it was because he actually disliked Chuuya or because Chuuya already had his protege, seriously, what the fuck is up with these two and proteges, much in a dire need for a family or what? to which Atsushi had the unfortunate privilege of meeting. Akutagawa Ryunosuke, someone who clearly lacked vision and could only be around Atsushi for so long before things went down. All the way down the pits of hell and all the way down to Atsushi’s dic-
“I just don’t get why it’s such a big deal for them, and while I... really do appreciate it... Chuuya-san?” Atsushi asks as he looks at the older man before him, face covered (more like getting smudged repeatedly like he was turning his face to mush) by his hand as he lets out an unnecessarily loud sigh. He definitely is the number one actor every drama and literature student dreams of casting.
“Atsushi-kun, do you hear yourself?”
“I... yeah? I mean, why wouldn’t-“
Chuuya looks up and glares at him and he shuts up immediately he did not want to piss off Chuuya-san today, no, no, no. “Normally I don’t mean these things seriously, just a funny way of getting some peers to gear up or take a seat down the chill chairs, or whatever, but if I hear one more retort from you saying that you don’t deserve a break, I am going to pull the f card and get you assassinated.”
Atsushi gulps. “The... the fail card?” What card? Wasn’t that supposed to be k card?
Chuuya looks him dead in the eye. “No. The Fyodor card.”
Oh.
Lucy and the rest of The Guild (a business club semi-incorporation? Truly a mystery no one could unravel) members said something along the lines of please knock this man unconscious and can we hold him down and force him to take a break, to which Poe weakly replies with a little isn’t the lack of consent just going to make him feel even more stressful, Atsushi almost feels bad for other guy had it not been for the fact that this entire debate on him getting some rest was already making him feel even more stressed than whatever its intention was. He’s pretty sure he’s not supposed to feel that way, given that everyone’s just extremely concerned about him, but he’s got this, he’s fine, he’s taking the break literally every single person in the building is reminding him of, hell, even Tetchou, who he has probably never had a decent conversation with before, patted him on his shoulder on his way back to his room and told him a quote about the universe finally giving him a safe room in this adventure he is on and Atsushi replies with a nervous laugh and thanks, only bolting when the other man sees his friend on the other side of the hallway.
He sends a quick text to the chat, both to everyone in Ranpo’s detective agency shenanigan, to Chuuya, to Lucy, even a tweet on his twitter account which he rarely ever uses for his own self-expression and only ever uses the app when replying to his loud friends, telling them all the same message: hey guys! just wanted to let you all know that i’m taking a break just next week just before my major’s presentation week. maybe three days, can stretch to an entire week. i was wondering if i could go with someone but i wouldn't want to impede...
A certain ruthless boy slotted his way to Atsushi’s mind for some reason Atsushi refuses to acknowledge the existence of and he can’t help but groan. Not today, brain cells. Not today, hormones. There’s no getting ‘em for the tiger today nor tomorrow.
Atsushi enters his dorm room, a small studio-like space with just enough mess and neatness to make everything seem like it isn’t entirely hopeless to fix, and he pledges to the ghost he’s convinced has taken a liking to his velvet blue curtains and to himself that he will finish the last part of his script today, a drizzling Friday evening, begin making the necessary preparations tomorrow, and leave anytime on Sunday. His mind fails to supply the where and the how and instead he opens his laptop for the last time (he hopes) and begins working on the play he’s been meaning to write since the theme was given to them.
Thin walls was a very vague term, one Atsushi at first was unable to fathom or form a plot for, but through the course of reading some of the university library’s recorded catalogue of plays and animation videos on YouTube that he ended up binging instead, he’s made a steady story that he grew to like with each act he pulls and with each word he writes. It’s came to him naturally since then, which made Atsushi so hesitant to take a break in the first place because what if he lost that streak of his in the span of time where he does not use his brain cells, and immediately decides to think positively: perhaps an even better inspiration will come his way if he decides to rest for a while.
A road trip would be nice. Atsushi thinks just as he closes his laptop and stretches his arms out. Four hours had passed, nothing too drastic but admittedly a long time for him to complete act two of three, yet he’s not complaining. It's been a productive time for him and Atsushi can’t help but smile, thinking how he’s gone from doubting each line that he jots down to even becoming happy because of a story that he wrote. Character development in real life. Haha.
The concept of a road trip with no destination... it all feels too appealing to Atsushi, as someone who’s a big fan adventures and out-of-the-world fantasies and the impossible, as someone who at first thought the prospect of even entering university to pursue something he loves was unattainable, as someone who’s always thought that having people who give something about him seemed all too otherworldly... there’s not much pleasantries to dwell on, he realizes, and he shakes his head.
A journey. An adventure with no destination. By car? Maybe even ride a ship? Or train hopping to places all over the city, maybe even outside so long as his wallet can afford it? Taste every version of chazuke the world could offer him. Maybe even meet new people, but keeping in contact would be a hassle for him, truth to be told... ah, where am I even getting at? I just really want to be out somewhere. anywhere. He doesn’t notice his eyes steadily drooping, pushing forth his daydreams that slowly began to lose its track, going from road trips to play ideas to his original characters, and he falls to his slumber peacefully.
He falls asleep dreamless. Must be a sign, atsushi thinks when he wakes up to his alarm the following morning, unsure why he has an alarm on for a weekend, and he gets up just in time to hear incessant and unwelcome knocking on his door. Goddammit.
“Wait up!” There's only one person who would knock on his door in that pattern and in the morning, so he takes his time brushing his teeth and giving his face a short cleanse to fully wake himself up.
Atsushi exits his bathroom, face towel in hand, and opens the door.
“Hello Atsushi-kun! A wonderful morning today, isn’t it? Such a magnificent day today is that I’m not even thinking of dying. Don’t you think so, too?”
Atsushi gives his most not-insulting surprised expression and tries to focus on Dazai and not on the boy next to him, probably doing the same thing he is.
“Ahaha... Dazai-san, what... exactly...?”
“I do recall your message being I wish I could go with someone else though, so I brought you someone indeed!”
Aaaaa, his mind unhelpfully supplies.
Akutagawa fakes a cough — or not, atsushi realizes when it seems to go on further than what he intended — and replies with a small grunt. Eloquent. Akutagawa looks at him (more like glares, his confusion-ridden morning fogged brain not-so-helpfully provides) and it’s enough to tell Atsushi that he didn’t come here at his own will, much to his disappointment credit. I understand your pain, he tries to tell in eye language, but he realizes there’s no point in trying to as Akutagawa closes his eyes while he faces to his right side.
“You said you wanted someone for your rest time? Not that I’m one to judge, but I sure do have the perfect candidate for you!”