Archive of Our Own ^beta

Akutagawa is walking back to his apartment from the grocery store when it happens. He catches a glimpse of a figure from his periphery, and he mistakes it for a small figure of someone he once knew, someone he knows is dead. The kid passes by, his laughter tinkling as he skips around the corner. The sound is… eerily familiar.

Akutagawa's legs set off for the boy before he can think.

He rounds the corner just as he sees the kid disappear into another street. He picks up speed, and drops his groceries. He can always buy more anyway.

He seems to be making no progress towards the kid. Every corner he turns, the boy is just out of reach, his familiar shoulder length hair blowing behind as he skips around. This strange dance goes on and on and on, and Akutagawa wonders if he should be concerned by the worried glances of onlookers, wonders if they see the boy too. Akutagawa knows him to be dead.

They're approaching the slums, something that hasn't gone unnoticed by Akutagawa in the chase. One more corner, then another. He's breathing heavy outside a Lawson's, and he cannot find the kid. He looks around again, but there is only a long stretch of road and a stairwell down to the slums, too far for the kid to have possibly made it to before Akutagawa laid eyes on the scene. He’s lost him. And he’s chasing a ghost. Akutagawa feels foolish for even trying, but chasing short bursts of intense feeling is kind of his thing.

Yuuji. He didn’t have a last name that he knew of, just born into the slums and abandoned quickly after. He was quiet, not as quiet as Akutagawa was, but reserved in a way that was rare to see. While the kids looked to Akutagawa for protection, Yuuji was always scarily good at settling disputes. Once there was a disagreement over food between starving orphans, and while Akutagawa was ready to fight on sight for their group, Yuuji managed to broker a peace, sacrificing his own share of the food they stole for the sake of everyone else. He was someone Akutagawa relied on. He still remembers the way his body lay contorted on the ground after the mafia shot a bullet through his small body.

Maybe he is finally going crazy. The mad dog of the Port Mafia seeing ghosts. Driven mad by the past. If he was naive enough to believe he'd get a grave marker, that's what they should put on it, he thinks to himself.

The white light of the Lawson's spills out onto the cold sidewalk. There are two rusted chairs, one occupied by probably another slum dweller, miserably drunk off his ass to fight away the cold. He sees the cashier sleepily studying behind the counter. She doesn't even lift her head as she offers a lazily rolled greeting as he enters the store.

Groceries dropped, Akutagawa now needs to at least consider something to eat before he heads back home. He should get a bento and have a full meal, but instead he has a craving for onigiri. In the slums, convenience store onigiri was the height of luxury, something he bought Gin for her birthday one year with change he pickpocketed. Now Akutagawa buys her one every birthday as a tradition.

He leaves the Lawson's with one pickled plum onigiri in hand, and a bottle of strawberry milk in the other. He looks up and wonders where the nearest taxi stand is, but instead his eyes meet familiar purple and gold.

"Uh," Atsushi eloquently greets. He's in his standard work garb and he’s holding a notepad, so Akutagawa assumes he hasn't just taken a stroll on the border of Yokohama's least livable ward for the fun of it. “Hi?”

Their interactions outside of fighting each other or fighting something Dazai pointed them towards leave a lot to be desired honestly. Turns out skipping the small-talk-and-niceties stage and going straight to attacking-their-deepest-insecurities part of a relationship makes some things awkward. Who would've known. Akutagawa's never been good at pointless chatter anyway.

There's this weird tension between them when they're not fighting, like they don't really know how to avoid all the pitfalls when talking to each other. Usually they’re trying to inflict the most amount of damage to each other with their words, but outside of work context their interactions rarely go smoothly.

Atsushi's eyes flit down to his unopened onigiri. "I like... pickled plum... too?"

Akutagawa sees now, Atsushi extending a bridge over that pitfall of anger. All Akutagawa has to do is be civil, and leave, and it’ll just be a weird coincidence that they’ll never speak of again.

“Is that a question?” Akutagawa snarks back, bypassing the bridge and diving straight into the pitfall.

“What?”

“Are you asking me if you like pickled plum?” Atsushi’s brows furrow at the accusation.

“I was just trying to make conversation! God, what is wrong with you?!”

“Well currently you’re standing in my way, and I would like to leave.” At that Atsushi digs his heels in, which Akutagawa really should’ve seen coming.

“Well I want to know what you’re doing here. I am looking at a case in this area, how do I know you’re not up to something dodgy?!” He jabs a gloved finger in Akutagawa’s direction.

“What sort of ‘dodgy’ dealings do you think I’m running from a Lawson's, weretiger?”

Atsushi puffs up, and then sort of. Deflates. Now that Akutagawa looks closer, he can see that Atsushi looks, well, tired. Maybe Akutagawa shouldn’t be trying to start shit.

"I just.. I have a case here, and I was supposed to be working it with Tanizaki but something else came up. So excuse me for thinking a Port Mafia ability user being in the same area as another potential ability user might not be a coincidence.”

“It is.”

“What is?”

“It’s a coincidence.”

“Oh. Sure… well. Enjoy your onigiri, I am going to interview a man about a ghost.”

Akutagawa's blood runs cold. A ghost? Spotted in the part of the city he’s just seen his own ghost. Maybe he isn't going crazy after all, at least not yet. Akutagawa doesn’t think himself a naturally curious person. He tries to keep his head down most of the time, not ask any questions. But this time around, seeing Yuuji, and now meeting Atsushi in such an unexpected way, so far away from the Detective Agency and Dazai, Akutagawa needs to make sure.

He lets Rashomon spring forward and entangle itself around Atsushi’s forearm, holding him steady. Atsushi looks back at him like he’s about to throw hands, fists half curled up ready to go.

“Ghost?” Akutagawa says eloquently.

“Uhhhhh, ghost... “ Atsushi replies, just as eloquent.

“What’s the case?”

Atsushi narrows his eyes. “Why should I tell you? Are you planning something… nefarious?”

“No. I just… saw… something…”

Atsushi huffs, and Akutagawa lets him shake Rashomon off his arm. “You’re gonna have to be a bit more specific than that.”

"I saw a ghost of someone I know to be dead. I followed them here," The two events lining up perfectly have to mean something. Dazai always tried to teach him that, to pay attention to the little moments that seem a bit off, but some things never took. "Let me come with you now. I’ll tell you about what I saw.”

Atsushi still looks uncertain, debating internally the consequences of accepting Akutagawa's help or leaving him on the sidewalk with his onigiri. They don't work together outside of fighting, they don't interview people, or come to conclusions or anything that the ADA partners do together. He wonders about the awkward air between them because of their unfamiliarity with each other, and if Atsushi is thinking about ways he's going to fill the space between talking about work.

"I'll treat you to gyudon after."

It's kind of sad how much Atsushi perks up at that.

"Deal!"

He places his onigiri in his pocket, deciding that he'll have it for breakfast tomorrow instead.

On a street a block away from the bridge to Suribachi, they knock on the door to the next interviewee's apartment. An old man answers, his crow footed eyes looking them up and down with hesitance before letting them in. He makes them tea and anxiously offers them sweet biscuits and lollies. Akutagawa declines, Atsushi accepts. He seems to be mostly suspicious of Akutagawa, and Akutagawa isn’t going to do anything to remedy that. He just sits at the table, arms folded, face as expressionless as ever.

On the short walk before they arrived, Atsushi caught him up on the previous interviewee’s statement. She had been walking back to her apartment when she saw the ghost of her dead brother standing near the building’s recycling shed. Her brother began to walk in the other direction as she approached, so she followed him until she realized she had ended up outside their parents' house.

Atsushi spoke way too animatedly as he recounted the first interview. He swung his arms widely and embellished the story with talk about the woman’s feelings, about how she had been estranged from her parents for so long, and seeing them was apparently a moment of healing that Atsushi was happy to be a part of or whatever. It’s a sharp contrast to the way Akutagawa tells Atsushi about his own encounter. He gives Atsushi a bare minimum explanation of his own ghost story, telling him that he followed the ghost of a friend to the Lawson's, but no more than that.

Now, in the old man's kitchen, Atsushi handles small talk with ease. He asks the man how long he has been living in the apartment (12 years), what he did for a living before he retired (fisherman). Akutagawa sits there and thinks about how much he hates this cheap tea, and how he'd rather shake down this old man and cut to the chase than talk to him about seasonal changes in local schools of fish. Atsushi smiles and nods in all the right places, talks about fishing stories he’s read and asks if real life is like that at all. The man looks happy as he answers them in turn, reminiscing on his old stories. Well Akutagawa has also read a book about fishing, but you don’t see him shoving it down this man's throat. The man looks happy though, and at least Atsushi remembers his name.

Atsushi has this charm to him that pisses Akutagawa off so much. He knows how to ask questions like a normal person, something that Akutagawa has never seemed to get a grasp on. While Akutagawa is all business, all the time, Atsushi has time for questions about the man’s favourite restaurants, his feelings on living in his area, about his past career. He's like Dazai in that way, except while Akutagawa knows Dazai only asks to acquire information, he suspects Atsushi is being honest in his curiosity, and any information he may happen to receive as the conversation runs its course is just a bonus. Like maybe he wants to understand what this old man's life has been like, not just the information relevant to the case.

"I was smoking there, on the balcony you see," the old man looks out past the glass door. "It was the craziest thing, I swear. I was just smoking and looking for the boats coming in at midday. I looked down to the sidewalk and I saw him walking. My Tanaka. He was just walking, exactly the same as the day I last saw him. I'll tell ya, I dropped my cigarette in shock. When I made it down to the ground level, he was just standing at the end of the street, right there," he punctuates his sentence with a jab towards the street.

"I went round that corner and couldn't see him anymore. But ya know what, the strangest thing happened after that. I ran into my own daughter. My own daughter who I haven't spoken to in years. We had a bit of a falling out after her mother died, you see, but she said to me, "Dad, I've just had a baby, you're a grandfather now." See, she didn't know my address, and she was just looking for me in the area. Can you boys believe that? I must have been especially lucky that day." He fills up Akutagawa's empty tea cup with a fond smile on his face. “I believe my Tanaka really did bring me such a blessing that day. If I hadn’t followed him, who knows. I would’ve never met my grandchild.”

"Have you ever had anything like this happen before?" Akutagawa asks. Atsushi has a strange shine in his eyes like he might start bawling from the man’s story.

"No no, I'm not that spiritual, just shrine visits on New Year's really. I wonder if I'll be able to participate in Setsubun with my grandson from now on..." he trails off.

"I hope you do, that sounds really nice," Atsushi says around a biscuit he stuffed into his mouth.

"Do you think it's one of ‘em gifteds at it again? They're always causing trouble ‘round these parts."

“Seems likely,” Akutagawa speaks. There's a bit of an awkward pause,

“Is that what you lot are? What organisation are you from again?”

Atsushi clears his throat. “Uh, the Armed Detective Agency. We, uh, are private detectives.”

“Are you gifted?” The man asks.

“Yes, I have an ability.” Atsush’s voice lowers. He shrinks in on himself a little bit.

“What is it?” Atsushi doesn’t respond. Akutagawa knew that Atsushi doesn’t like being an ability user, sees it as a source of unhappiness, but he’s never seen him look so... guilty... about it before. Maybe it’s because they’re in a stranger’s house.

“That’s confidential.” Akutagawa stops the conversation. Atsushi’s head snaps towards him, but Akutagawa refuses to meet his eyes.

“Oh!” The man furrows his brow. “My apologies, I didn’t mean to cause trouble.”

Atsushi reassures the man that no offence was taken, his smile almost back to reaching his eyes. He seems practiced in apologising for things he shouldn’t have to. The realisation makes something unusual and gross settle in his stomach. For all that he can’t understand about Atsushi, he understands this. And although he’s never believed in fairness, something about this strikes him as unfair.

They end up leaving the old man's house with a box of biscuits in Atsushi's hands.

"Thank you so much Yamamoto-san. I hope everything works out with your new grandson!" Atsushi says goodbye. The old man smiles and nods along to Atsushi, and offers a curt nod to Akutagawa. Maybe he should work on his people skills a little bit more. Atsushi managed to get substantial information out of the guy without breaking any of his bones. Now they even have an established relationship if they ever need to speak to him again. His number is in Atsushi’s phone with a ghost and a fish emoji next to it.

They make their way out of the building in silence before Atsushi pipes up.

"Ok, I think you promised me gyudon..." He at least has the sense to look a bit ashamed.

"Let's go to Sukiya then."

The yellow lights of the Sukiya bathe the restaurant in an unflattering light. It’s only around 9pm, which means they’re joined by salary workers who have just gotten off work and university students looking at the verge of breakdowns. He orders himself the most basic gyudon, and Atsushi follows suit.

"You can order something more if you want."

"Oh, but it's more expensive, I wouldn't want to be rude so..." Atsushi doesn't meet his eyes, and nervously wrings his hands.

"What do you want?" He snaps back. It's not like he can't afford more food. God knows he barely spends any of his money.

"Maybe I could add an egg and miso?" Atsushi asks quietly, like he's asking for Akutagawa’s firstborn. Akutagawa calls out to the store worker to change the order. She brings back a reprinted ticket with the higher price and Atsushi grimaces.

"The mafia pays well," is the only explanation Akutagawa offers.

They sit in the same abysmal silence that had plagued their walk from the old man’s apartment, and don’t speak until the worker brings them their bowls. Akutagawa loads his bowl with pickled ginger, and slowly begins to eat.

"The ghosts, you think they're caused by an ability user yeah?" Atsushi begins around a mouthful of food. Akutagawa’s not mad that he is paying for this meal, but Atsushi could at least have the decency to not spit it directly into his face. Atsushi notices Akutagawa’s distasteful glare, and turns his face away to chew.

"Most likely. The mafia runners were talking about it too, but I didn't pay much attention to it, until it happened to me tonight.” Atsushi looks at him to go on. “There’s word around Suribachi that there have been strange occurrences. More and more people are recounting out of the ordinary ghost sightings.”

"It seems that whoever is appearing to these people, makes them want to follow. Yamamoto-san and Sato-san, as well as the woman I interviewed before bumping into you, they all decided to follow the spirits. And so did you actually..."

Akutagawa can hear the question in his tone. Atsushi wants to know why Akutagawa followed a ghost and honestly, he can keep wondering. Akutagawa's going to become a ghost himself before he tells Atsushi anything about his dead childhood friend.

"I think the person's ability has something to do with connecting people.” Atsushi says. “Like Yamamoto-san, after following the ghost, he was reunited with. And Sato-san reconciled with her family after following hers... and you… well I’m not sure really. You found me though, and I ended up needing you for this case.” Akutagawa wants to fight against that statement. He hates being grouped with Atsushi, by Dazai, by Fitzgerald. The two of them keep getting linked in a way that Akutagawa doesn’t understand. If this ability user is indeed fostering connections between people, Akutagawa doesn’t want this connection at all. Maybe it was a mistake asking to work with Atsushi.

But then again, if Atsushi goes back to the Detective Agency with this, his name will inevitably be dragged into the investigation. Dazai will know that he was led to Atsushi. No, it’s better to avoid that at all costs. He had already seen Dazai’s smug face when bragging about his new mentee. He doesn’t want to see it again. Instead, if Akutagawa could work out who this ability user is, using just Atsushi, then he could find out on his own why they wanted them to meet in the first place, if connection is indeed this person’s ability.

Akutagawa is full now, looking at his half-eaten bowl of plain gyudon, while Atsushi has polished his off in record time. Since he was a kid, Akutagawa has had a small appetite, never being able to finish off a regular sized meal in one sitting. He stares at the cheap plastic bowl in indecision. He coughs, and it makes the air a little bit easier to breathe. He lifts his bowl of gyudon and places it on Atsushi’s tray. The look he receives is annoying; it's like Atsushi can’t conceive that Akutagawa would willingly give him anything at all. He knows Atsushi’s appetite is another thing that Akutagawa can’t beat, and he would hate to see his unfinished bowl go to waste.

Atsushi opens his mouth to say something.

And then he closes it, deciding not to comment. It’s a good move on his part.

He picks his chopsticks back up again, and cautiously begins to eat. Akutagawa wishes he had just eaten his stupid onigiri instead of overthinking this entire interaction. He could’ve just bought Atsushi the food and then left, but no. They have a case to discuss or whatever.

"So, we know that these ghosts seem to be appearing around the slums, so the ability user probably lives there, too." Atsushi says, after swallowing a mouthful of rice. "We could try reaching out to people, asking some questions."

"They won’t speak to any sort of authority body. We could go ask a priest or shrine maiden though. They are the ones most likely to have some idea of the spiritual going ons in the area.” The memory of chatter between the adults in the slums makes its way to Akutagawa’s head. People used to talk about things being cursed, or things miraculously working again, to be a sign from a minor god. Children waking up in the morning after multiple days without food, somehow still alive, was said to be some kind of divine intervention. Akutagawa never believed in merciful gods, even back then.

“There's just no way anyone in the slums would want to tell anything to unknown investigators into the area. The Port Mafia may control most of that area, but they can't control all the minuscule going-ons of day to day people who live there.”

Atsushi has finished his bowl again, faster than it took Akutagawa to get through the first half. Typical.

“I can just go with Tanizaki-kun, or Kunikida-san and Dazai-san”

“Absolutely not. That is not even an option,” Akutagawa doesn’t want them involved, and the people living around the slums are unfamiliar with scrutiny. They are unwilling to talk to people who are too shiny, or people who offer slimy smiles with perfectly straight teeth. The Detective Agency would have to find another proxy person anyway. Akutagawa plans to be that proxy, and keep the rest of the Detective Agency in the dark until they learn more.

“I will go with you. I am familiar with the area.” Akutagawa knows the slums. The cesspool that is Suribachi city was his home until Dazai poached him, killed his old life, and offered him the promise of a better one. Akutagawa finds himself frequently wondering what his life would be like if he had never been recruited to the mafia, on nights where he’s had a bit too much wine and his inhibitions are lowered. They are counterproductive thoughts anyways, the past is in the past.

“Do you want another bowl?” He asks Atsushi because he knows Atsushi won’t ask for one, but judging from the way he demolished both bowls, he’s probably still hungry. Atsushi shakes his head no. “Really? You usually eat a disgusting amount of food I’m surprised ”

“Hey! What the hell! I’m still a growing boy!” Atsushi scowls at him.

“A growing pain in the ass maybe.”

“You know what,” Atsushi turns around and addresses the worker. “Excuse me! Can I get another bowl of gyudon with egg please!” He turns back to Akutagawa with a smug look on his face. Akutagawa rolls his eyes.

They decide to meet later that week, outside Suribachi city. As they leave the Sukiya, the cashier blushes when Atsushi smiles at her and Akutagawa wants to throw up. Atsushi eyes Akutagawa with more suspicion as he pays for their meal, and he doesn’t even offer a small bow to the person who bought his food, because he is secretly very rude and Akutagawa is the only one who realises this.

In the taxi ride on the way back to his apartment, he thinks of small hands huddled around a makeshift fire, and light laughter inside small shacks, offering shelter from the chaos.

Akutagawa has a rare day off. He hates days off. He fills it with meaningless tasks that distract him from thinking about anything at all, and longs to be doing even the most mundane assignments, or maybe a cheeky shakedown, or just anything to get him out of the apartment.

Atsushi finishes his office duties at 5, and somehow manages to avoid bringing Tanizaki with him. Akutagawa suspects this has something to do with Dazai. It wouldn’t surprise him if Dazai already figured out that they are working together, because Dazai knows everything and is constantly trying to foster a friendly spirit between them and is probably doing it again. Damn his meddling ass.

Akutagawa wears his Port Mafia garb this time, hoping his silhouette will lend him the authority he never quite grew into. He waits outside the same Lawson’s from before, sitting at a table as he waits for Atsushi.

Atsushi is running late when he comes into view, hurrying as if he knows Akutagawa is going to skewer him for wasting his time. In all honesty, Akutagawa doesn’t really think of his free time as very valuable anyway, so lateness has no effect on his mood. He had spent most of his day playing a rhythm game Chuuya recommended to him, so it’s not like he’s missing out on anything. He stands and regards Atsushi as he offers a squeaky greeting and mutters an apology about being so late.

Akutagawa walks towards the footpath that leads to Suribachi city. They have a long bridge to cross, and Akutagawa doesn’t particularly want to engage in any sort of small talk with any weretigers.

Suribachi city is connected to Kawasaki ward by a long footbridge that cuts through a few of the other man made islands. There are a lot of warehouses and marine sites in the area meaning the whole place smells of sea salt and fish. It takes Akutagawa back to when he used to venture out of Suribachi, only to be greeted with faceless adults who treated him like less than scum, and police who threatened to take him into custody for “loitering”.

If only they could see him now.

Well, they’d actually probably like to, he’s been a wanted man since the age of 16.

The walk makes him feel uneasy. The bridge isn’t narrow, but the further they walk along the more it feels like it's closing in on him. Atsushi walks a few steps behind him.

“Do you know how to drive?” Atsushi asks. There’s no one else around them so he must be talking to Akutagawa. Is this small talk? God, Akutagawa hopes not.

He considers ignoring him.

“Yes,” he answers instead.

“Oh… that must be nice…” Atsushi trails off, like he can’t believe his excellent inquiry didn’t lead to a more sustainable conversation.

“I’m thinking about getting a license but I can’t really afford to own a car. Also the test is way too expensive and time consuming, I don’t know if the agency would let me take any time off to do it… I heard recently that you can do the whole course at something like a summer camp, that would be nice,” Atsushi is full blown rambling now, it’s weird and Akutagawa doesn’t know how to handle this.

This was so much easier when Akutagawa was just trying to kill Atsushi. Rashomon tightens around him.

He turns around and levels Atsushi with what he hopes is his most mafioso expression. “I can just get one for you… I have my ways,”

Atsushi makes a disapproving face.

“Gross. Are you trying to be scary right now?”

Akutagawa faces forward again. “I am always scary”

“Oh my god, you were!” Atsushi has the audacity to laugh at him. He wants to yell back, but no retort finds its way past his lips.

They’ve crossed over to the main bulk of the island. The only buildings they see for a while are the deserted warehouses that people hide dead bodies in. Akutagawa used to play around them when he was a kid, until one of his friends pulled back a sheet of corrugated iron and found a corpse.

The hair on the back of Akutagawa's neck stands on edge. Usually, he actively avoids any sort of Mafia assignment in Suribachi. Being here, he feels like he's a kid again, like the past six years of his life never happened. Except he has no house to squat in with the gang of kids anymore, he’s not constantly looking over his shoulder for signs of danger, no longer waiting for death to show up around every corner.

Atsushi is walking closer to him now, and Akutagawa can feel the tension in the line of the weretiger’s body.

Akutagawa first came here when he was 6, abandoned on the outskirts with his little sister and a rucksack full of clothes and not much else. The city was only formed for a year back then. One of the elderly women living in the area found them crying where they were left, alone in the cold. She took them in and taught them how to survive, who to look out for and how to find food. She was ill, and died six months after they met. He and Gin just quietly packed their stuff into some small bags, and moved deeper into the slums, the heavy weight of being truly alone settling around them like an ill fitting coat.

The people in the bowl spare them wary glances as they walk through the streets. Akutagawa knows he can go to one of Chuuya's informants for information, so that's who they'll try to find first. They probably won't be able to get as much information as Chuuya could, but Akutagawa hopes they might tell them something. Chuuya's informants are always the best, but that's mainly because Chuuya takes the time to send them food and extra money and hand written thank you notes.

After they speak to the informant, it becomes apparent he doesn't really offer any solid leads, but it does seem the number of ghost sightings and offerings to the shrines have increased slightly. Suribachi is running pretty business as usual, and no one is especially concerned about the small amounts of good luck that have befallen them.

They part ways with the guy, and Akutagawa wonders if he should try remembering his name for next time, or if he should've slipped a pack of biscuits in with the envelope of cash he handed over. Oh well.

He feels Atsushi pause behind him, and turns to look at whatever has caught his attention. There's a little girl, around ten, staring at them from behind a pile of garbage. Her face is shrouded in darkness from the corrugated iron lean-too that looks like a strong wind will send it tumbling.

He hopes Atsushi doesn't talk to this little girl.

"Hello there," Atsushi says to the little girl. Akutagawa rolls his eyes.

She doesn't say anything back, continuing to stare up at them from behind the rubbish. There is dirt on her face and her clothes are grey, torn and frayed at the edges, the only color is a bright red bandana wrapped around her wrist. She looks like she’s trying to decide whether or not to run. Akutagawa remembers that look gracing his face regularly before he was taken in by the mafia.

"The spirits," she says quietly. Interesting. She must have been listening in on their conversation with the informant.

"Have you seen any of them?" Atsushi rushes out. He stays rooted to the spot, but crouches down to a squat like he's approaching a feral dog.

The girl hesitates again. She nods.

"There are some that are hurting my friends," she says. She doesn't meet their eyes, but still continues. "They're doing bad things."

"We can help," Atsushi extends his hand. "Can you tell us where they are?" Akutagawa wants to scream.

She shakes her head no. "One of them, they... they led my friend to a trap. He was taken by the scary men, but then the spirits helped him," She walks a little bit more towards Atsushi. A streak of light bathes the bottom half of her face and Akutagawa now sees what he originally thought was dirt is a burn mark. It's fresh. It drags across her left cheek and down her neck, and looks like it was inflicted by someone.

Akutagawa really hates this place.

The girl continues. "The scary men who took him were talking about using the spirits. That they could control them to lead people places. That's why my friend is gone." Anger and sadness flits across her face.

There’s a loud bang behind them. A man appears in the doorway of the slum house opposite them, holding a box of empty milk bottles in his hands. He regards them with caution, then nods, turns his head and walks away.

When Akutagawa turns back, the girl is gone. He barely even sensed her leave. He looks over to Atsushi, who looks at the spot with equal amounts of confusion. Atsushi’s keen senses also didn’t catch it, and Akutagawa feels on edge again. Who was that girl?

“What the hell…” Atsushi breaks their silence. “Where did she… go?”

Akutagawa looks around. They are the only two in the area that are outside. Something doesn’t sit right with him, a growing sense of unease that has been building ever since they walked in. Akutagawa walks away, towards the centre of the makeshift city.

“Hey!” Atsushi calls after him. “Where are we going now?” Akutagawa doesn’t say anything. He just walks. “Don’t ignore me!”

Akutagawa ignores him. He keeps walking, hands deep in pockets as he goes further, twisting through streets like a dizzying maze. There’s still no one around. How could he not have noticed? There’s no one on the streets, not a single old man lazing around, no friends playing cards, no children running around screeching.

Akutagawa stops suddenly. The hair on the back of his neck sticks straight up. Atsushi stopped next to him at the same time, hearing the same crunch of boots on gravel in the distance. Akutagawa grabs Atsushi by the midsection with Rashomon, covering his mouth so he can’t yelp. He drags them both around a small corner and hopes the weretiger gets a clue he’s trying to help them here, not trying to kill Atsushi again. The sound of footsteps gets closer. Still walking at a steady pace they come, and Akutagawa holds his breath. Atsushi taps on his wrist.

He looks back at Atsushi, and is struck with how close they are. Akutagawa could count every individual one of the weretigers' eyelashes if he wanted to. Which he doesn’t. He lets Rashomon slide off Atsushi’s mouth. Atsushi gasps a small breath.

The footsteps stop.

Akutagawa feels Atsushi hold in his breath. He does the same. What feels like an eternity passes, and Akutagawa can still feel heat radiating off Atsushi where their chests are awkwardly angled against each other.

The footsteps keep going. When they get further away, Akutagawa chances a peak over the corner of the wall. A man stands at the end of the small street. He’s wearing a long navy jacket, and he doesn’t turn back to Akutagawa, but he does wait for a beat. Akutagawa pulls his head in. They wait for another moment, Atsushi’s eyes searching his for a sign to move. Akutagawa peers around the wall again.

The man is gone.

Akutagawa steps back from Atsushi, and rescinds his ability. Atsushi looks a bit shell shocked, before he quickly snaps himself out of it. “Who was it?”

“Just a man. There didn’t look to be anything different about him.”

“But you felt it right?” How the man felt like… nothing.. Like he had no presence at all as he walked down the street.

“Of course I felt it.” Akutagawa snaps back. Atsushi’s face twists into irritation before he takes a second and calms himself down.

“I can’t sense anything. Even his footsteps… they were just there. Coming towards us from nowhere.”

Atsushi’s senses are infinitely stronger than Akutagawa’s. If he says he couldn’t feel the man’s presence before he started walking, just where did he come from? “Let’s go.”

Atsushi nods, and uses gloved hands to smooth his shirt down before pressing them to his cheeks. He breaths in and out. “Let’s go.” He parrots.

They walk down the narrow street. Akutagawa strains his ears to see if he can hear.. Anything. Anything at all. “Weretiger. Can you hear if there are people in these houses?” Atsushi turns his head and closes his eyes in concentration.

And then he frowns. “I can’t hear any movement at all. For at least 10 metres around us.” There are more than 5 stable looking dwellings around them. There’s no way they should be unoccupied. They walk further towards the last place they saw people.

Atsushi swivels his head. There's another kid, maybe a teenager is more accurate but he’s so skinny it's hard to tell. He sits on the stoop of a house, holding a paperback with a well loved spine. He regards them with little interest. Akutagawa and Atsushi stare back.

“Sup.” He offers after a beat.

“What’s wrong with this street?” Akutagawa asks bluntly. “There’s no one around. That’s unusual.”

“Oh yeah that. Street’s haunted.” He says with an air of nonchalance that rivals Dazai’s.

“What do you mean?” Atsushi asks back.

“It’s got spirits. Ghosts. Spooky right?” The teenager grins lopsidedly at them.

Akutagawa hates this kid’s attitude. “For how long?”

“Dunno. Maybe like a month.”

“Apparently children have been going missing too.” At that the kid perks up. Akutagawa wants to throttle him.

“Oh that! You must’ve spoken to Mariko-chan!” He chuckles a bit. “Yeah I wouldn’t listen to her. She’s so dramatic.”

“So there are no children going missing?” Atsushi asks, confused.

“Oh no, there are. Of course there are. No more than usual though.” Atsushi now looks like he’s considering throttling the kid as well. “Mariko-chan keeps trying to save her friends though. Isn’t that cute?” At the confused look on their faces he says, “Mariko-chan, you know? Small, part of the Reds. Recently she’s got herself a bit of a facial scar for her troubles.”

“We spoke to her.” Akutagawa says.

“Well, I wouldn't take anything she says too seriously. She’s always trying to get other people in trouble.”

“Why are you telling us this?” The bad feeling in Akutagawa’s stomach grows bigger the longer they talk to the teenager.

He shrugs. “Something to do, I guess.” Akutagawa doesn’t like his vibe at all. He turns to walk off, Atsushi scurrying to follow him. They are looking at an incomplete picture, but there's something definitely afoot in the slums.

At the top of the giant crater, with Atsushi in front of him, Akutagawa says “You have dirt on the back of your shirt sleeve.”

Atsushi twists his torso to look. “That’s your fault.”

“No it wasn’t.”

“Yes it was! You literally pushed me into a dirty wall!”

“For reconnaissance.”

“No because you’re an ass! I could’ve hid myself just fine!”

“Whatever. Stop shouting at me and sort yourself out.” Akutagawa holds up the spare handkerchief he always keeps in his pocket. Atsushi slaps his hand away.

“You can’t just cause a problem and then bitch me out like that.”

“I didn’t cause a problem. I was fixing a problem.”

“All you do is cause problems!” Atsushi raises his open hand in exasperation, but in that split second of uncertainty, Akutagawa raises Rashomon back. Black ribbons hover in the space between them. His reflexes constantly remind him that Atsushi is not just anyone, not someone to be underestimated.

Akutagawa coughs. “Are you trying to start a fight?” He tries to cover his hair-trigger response.

“Aren’t you?!” Atsushi yells back. Fine, Akutagawa thinks. He throws Rashomon out, grips Atsushi’s leg and rips it out from underneath him. Atsushi’s face is full of surprised anger as he hits the dirt. His arms shimmer blue then transform to their feline state.

Atsushi snarls and swipes at the tendril rescinding from his leg, just as Akutagawa sends another ribbon towards his blind spot. It's a millisecond away from landing when Atsushi turns around and bites his teeth into it and pulls.

Akutagawa stumbles forward but catches himself. Atsushi throws himself at Akutagawa at rapid speed.

“You’re so infuriating!” Atsushi yells.

Akutagawa defends as Atsushi launches furious punches. His speed and form have gotten so much better since the last time they fought. Atsushi's fist connects with his face again, this time sending him into the concrete wall of a warehouse.

It fucking hurts. He feels blood well in his mouth where he bit down on his cheek, and the wind has been completely knocked out of him. He stands up, and tries again. He throws another flurry of black ribbons towards the weretiger.

Atsushi grabs one of Rashomon’s ribbons, but Akutagawa is ready for it. He takes advantage of the grip, and throws Atsushi higher, watching him lose his orientation completely. In the air, they lock eyes, and in a split second Atsushi has his claws in Rashomon again. He pulls forward, and finds Akutagawa’s torso with his outstretched claw. Akutagawa barely has time to raise his right arm before he feels the skin of his forearm tear, not deeply, but enough to feel it flare in pain. Stupid weretiger and his stupid reflexes, even with years of experience, Akutagawa can’t automatically devour the space around his attacks like that.

Pain blossoms in his arm. He turns away and covers it with Rashomon, stitching the fibers back together. He makes them tighter than usual, hoping that he can keep the pressure until he gets back to his apartment where he can fix it. This fight wasn’t serious, but it serves as a painful reminder of how much stronger the weretiger is compared to him. He plays with fire and gets burnt, it's just the way of the world. It wouldn’t be like this if he were stronger. He’s all of a sudden not in a mood to fight or yell. Atsushi hasn’t moved since his last blow, and Akutagawa’s arm throbs in pain.

“Whatever. Let’s just get out of here. There’s something wrong with this place.” Akutagawa doesn’t want to see any more children wandering alone or bratty teenagers giving them cryptic advice.

“That’s it? You’re just done now?!” Atsushi raises his voice, but it's not quite a yell.

“Yes. Come on. We both have work tomorrow.” Akutagawa walks off. Atsushi once again scrambles to fall in line with him.

“I really don’t understand you one bit.”

“I never asked you too.” Akutagawa bites back.

“We’re supposed to be partners.”

“Would partners fight like that? We’re not partners. We just work together because Dazai-san wants us to, for whatever reason. There’s no use trying to find meaning in his actions.” Akutagawa thinks bitterly about all the times Dazai has made nonsensical calls that over time proved to meet his desired goal in the end. He wonders then, what Dazai’s intended outcome to their partnership is, and whether or not it will be a happy ending for Akutagawa. Probably not.

“Dazai-san and Kunikida-san always fight.”

“Not physically.”

“That’s true. Dazai-san and his partner from the mafia fought though right”

“Yeah. Look where that got them.”

“Ok fine!” Atsushi huffs off, walks ahead of Akutagawa. Akutagawa follows, thinking about his injured arm, and about the strange girl with the burn mark.

Atsushi leaves the door open when he gets out of the taxi in front of the Detective Agency dorms. He walks three steps forward before turning back, and slightly crouches to meet Akutagawa’s eyes.

“Are you coming or what? I'm making curry”

Why would he want Akutagawa to be in his home right now? When Atsushi said he was going to cook he didn't think that invitation would extend to him. His arm still needs dressing, but he can use Rashomon to hold it securely for a little longer.

Akutagawa pays and gets out of the taxi.

"That ride was 4,000 yen, this better be some good curry." He says, instead of trying to navigate how weird he thinks it is that Atsushi is going to make him curry.

Atsushi's apartment is sparsely decorated. There's multiple sets of 100 yen store guest slippers placed next to Atsushi's shoes in the entrance. A cork board hangs on the hallway wall. It has ticket stubs and drink sleeves with little drawings on them, the kind of sentimental bullshit Akutagawa expects from Atsushi, but other than that it's completely devoid of all personality.

“Is Kyouka-chan…” Akutagawa trails off, and hopes Atsushi understands the question.

“Oh! No, she, uh… she doesn’t actually live here anymore. No, yeah she moved in with Yosano-san.” He’s nervous about the admission. “The seniors at the Agency, they thought it would be better, because I can hardly take care of myself, so it's better if she's with Yosano-san.” It sounds rehearsed, and strangely forced. Akutagawa wonders if that's all there is to it, or if Atsushi is hiding something from him. Either way he doesn’t want to pry.

Atsushi grabs out a packet of instant curry cubes from the cupboards and looks back at Akutagawa, daring him to say something about it. The air still feels icy after their fight, but has thawed a little bit now the adrenaline has faded.

"Instant, really?"

"Shut up, it's still good and you know it," Atsushi snorts back.

"I really don't, weretiger" Akutagawa feels like he's loitering, just standing in the kitchenette not knowing what to do with his hands. He slips them into his coat pockets.

"You've never had instant curry before?" Atsushi seems surprised.

"No. I don't know how to cook," Akutagawa stares intently at a crack in the wall. "There's not exactly a huge supply of Golden Curry blocks in Suribachi." Akutagawa thinks this is probably a lie. People with dwellings might prepare Golden Curry, people who had pots and stove tops and weren't kids who dug around in the garbage for food scraps.

Akutagawa hears a thud and looks up to see Atsushi looking at him strangely, onion rolling on the ground at his feet. “What do you mean?”

“About what?”

“About Suribachi? Did you… live there?” Atsushi asks, carefully like Akutagawa might bite his head off.

“Yes.” He replies. He wants to bite his head off, generally speaking.

Atsushi silently picks up the onion and resumes preparing the curry. He looks like he is considering the information carefully, mulling it over in his head. The air in the room has shifted again, awkward for a totally different reason. Why does Akutagawa have to say anything ever?

"I.. I'm sorry!" Atsushi spits out, his back still turned to Akutagawa as he places chopped vegetables in a bowl. "I didn't mean to pry..." With the evening they’ve had he may as well.

Usually Akutagawa thinks that his entire upbringing is written across his face. His lack of people skills, his thin wiry frame. The way he has four contingency plans minimum to remove himself from any given situation. It's no secret he’s skittish and shy, and unwilling to offer any private information about himself. The way he doesn’t know how to act, not really, and how he feels his discomfort in most non-work related settings seep into the atmosphere around him. It makes sense no one ever really approaches him for a chat. He never had anyone look out for him growing up, and that kind of neglect is tied around his throat as much as Atsushi's controlling upbringing is around his.

He thought Atsushi would have known. About his upbringing. But Dazai evidently doesn’t think to talk about Akutagawa that much.

“I thought Dazai-san would have briefed you.”

"Not really... he only told me about your fighting style, and even that wasn't very in-depth," Typical Dazai. The pot of curry is left simmering on the stove top while Atsushi sets the small table in the main tatami room. He places down two cushion seats and gestures for Akutagawa to sit, so he does. It briefly crosses his mind that he should ask Atsushi if he needs help setting up for dinner, but he keeps his mouth shut. Usually the Port Mafia members under him set everything up, or he and his sister don’t really bother, choosing to eat on the couch instead of at a set table.

“I’m sorry.” Atsushi says, yet again. But this time it sounds forced, like he thinks he should apologise, but doesn’t quite want to. Usually Atsushi’s apologies are reflexive. “I shouldn’t have picked a fight like that in the slums. I was just.. On edge I suppose.”

Akutagawa is learning that for all his fire Atsushi really is just as uncertain as he is. He seems to doubt everything tenfold, like the thought of making a decision by himself terrifies him. Even now he is second guessing his choices.

“Do you want tea? While we wait for the curry to cook?” Atsushi offers. Akutagawa nods yes.

Atsushi takes over two cups of tea to the table. Akutagawa reaches for the sugar bowl after he lowers himself onto the ground. He adds five teaspoons, and stirs and stirs his black tea until it dissolves. Atsushi laughs and Akutagawa glares daggers at him.

“No, no.” He laughs. He reaches for the sugar bowl as well, and adds four spoonfuls. “I’ve never met anyone who takes as much sugar as me.”

“We didn’t have that in Suribachi either.”

“In the orphanage there was a whole chocolate bar trade. I never had that many because… Well, the kids who did were like royalty.” Atsushi laughs again. “But now I can just buy them whenever. I can’t get used to it.”

“We used to trade them between the street urchin gangs. I had 10 bars of Meiji at one point.” Atsushi looks at Akutagawa in awe.

“Woah, I didn’t realise I was hosting the emperor for dinner.” He says, addressing Akutagawa in honorific language.

“Shut up.” Akutagawa says back. But it’s nice really. No one really understands the depth of Akutagawa’s fondness for sweet things, because it is unknowable to someone who hasn’t been through the same thing. Akutagawa knows Atsushi just gets it. Understands what it's like to finally have something that you’ve been denied your whole life. Akutagawa squishes down this knowledge. Atsushi has everything Akutagawa has ever wanted, he doesn’t need Akutagawa’s sympathy on top of it.

"When I was in the orphanage, I didn’t really get much time out with everyone. So everyone else had these insider ways of getting chocolate, and schemes they would run, but I was never really in on it.”

There's a pause. The rice cooker beeps next to them, and Atsushi jumps up to check the curry. He brings the curry pot over to the table, and begins to heap their servings onto the plates. He hands Akutagawa a plate and sits back on his ankles.

"I guess growing up was weird for us, huh. We think chocolate bars are the height of luxury." Atsushi hums.

"Mm. Maybe Dazai-san has a type." Atsushi makes a face at him.

"Don't say it like that! What the hell... was that a joke.. are you joking with me right now?" The disgust on his face shift's into a look of small delight.

"It was a joke." He confirms and looks away, as if basking under Atsushi's attention for any longer would bring ruin to the moment in some way.

“Make better jokes.” Atsushi tsks.

Atsushi opens the jar of pickled ginger and places it next to Akutagawa's plate. Akutagawa wonders if he remembers he likes it from their dinner at Sukiya. He seems unsure yet again when Akutagawa doesn't immediately put the ginger on his curry.

"I thought you liked ginger..."

Akutagawa feels that weird sensation in his stomach again. After Dazai left the mafia, Chuuya regularly took him out for meals. The Port Mafia has a full time chef to cook for them, and every time Chuuya had a spare break, he would hound Akutagawa into the cafeteria and place the meal of the day in front of him. Chuuya always dumped more food than he could ever finish on his plate, and whenever they had katsu curry, he used to pile one side of his plate with a small mound of pickled red ginger.

He stares at the jar next to him, and spoons out a little bit on the side of his curry, then refuses to meet Atsushi's eye as he eats. He looks at where his arm was resting and his eyes widen before he can stop them. Atsushi looks down at the offending spot on the table.

“Oh my god! You’re bleeding! Akutagawa, why didn’t you say anything!” Atsushi jumps up and runs to the cupboard.

“It’s-”

“Don’t say it’s fine! It’s not!”

He digs out a medkit and brings it back to the table. He kneels next to Akutagawa, and grabs him by the sleeve. Akutagawa recoils.

“Do not touch me!” He pulls his sleeve back, but Atsushi holds it steady. He can’t activate his ability without damaging the spread of food. Atsushi looks up at him.

He looks devastated. “I am so sorry. Please just let me see.”

Akutagawa eyes Atsushi up and down. He’s secretly mortified that there's a small smear of his blood on the table, but he doesn’t want Atsushi to see his wound. He thinks about leaving, just for a second, but decides against it. Instead, he pushes the sleeve of his coat up and over the claw marks marring his skin on most of the top side of his forearm. At this point it definitely looks worse than it is. He did what he could with Rashomon, but there's still a thick smeared combination of fresh and dried blood that needs to be cleaned up.

Atsushi doesn’t say anything, but he looks downright sullen as he pulls Akutagawa up and leads him to the sink. He runs the water, checking the temperature before pushing Akutagawa's arm under. They stand in silence as the blood washes away, Atsushi using his thumb to gently wipe away stubborn bits.

For reasons Akutagawa can’t explain, he can feel his heart hammering away in his chest. He is unused to people touching him completely, and it doesn’t seem right that the weretiger is offering this to him now. Atsushi turns the water off, and Akutagawa jerks his arm away. They head back over to where the medkit sits on the table.

Atsushi rips open an alcoholic wipe, and Akutagawa notices a slight shake in his hands. “This, uh. Might sting a little.” He brings the wipe down, dragging over the open wounds.

“Doesn’t hurt anymore than when you gave them, weretiger.” It’s the wrong thing to say, Akutagawa knew before the words left his lips, but it doesn’t stop him. He wants Atsushi to stop touching him, and fast. He can’t handle the way he softly encloses his forearm. It’s not right, not for them. Atsushi winces at his words, shrinks in on himself, keeps his distance more, but his hands still refuse to stop tending the wound.

While Atsushi works, Akutagawa grows increasingly uncomfortable at the little space that is between them now. Finished with wipes, Atsushi drags a thick glob of antiseptic cream over the marks, and fishes out a flat plaster to lay over the wound. Atsushi looks up and their gazes meet, before Atsushi snaps his eyes back to what he’s doing. His cheeks dust a slight pinkish.

“I’m sorry.” He repeats again quietly.

“Stop apologising.”

“So- okay.” Atsushi says. There’s a silence. Akutagawa can’t stop stealing glances at Atsushi’s face, full of concentration. Right now there’s a tinge of, maybe sadness, maybe regret. “I just can’t seem to stop hurting people.” He laughs, but it comes out bitter and broken.

“Some people deserve it.”

Atsushi just hums as if he's considering it. “No… I don’t think so. At least, not you.” He smooths the plaster over Akutagawa’s forearm. “I want to stop hurting you.”

“Oh.” Akutagawa stares intently at where Atsushi’s fingers are holding down his forearm. “Why?”

“What do you mean ‘why?’ Because I… I don’t want to do it, not anymore. We’ve been through a lot together”

Akutagawa doesn’t know what to say to that. He doesn’t know how to calm this raging tide that roars inside him. He should feel angry. It’s his goal, his endpoint, ultimately, to kill the weretiger. If he just does that, if he can beat Atsushi and show Dazai that he is the better student, that he was the strongest one all this time, then some piece of Akutagawa’s heart will be satisfied, finally, he’s sure of it. No one has ever really said they wanted to stop hurting Akutagawa before, like he was worth putting the effort in.

Atsushi presses down the plaster's edges more, sealing it down. “Okay, you’re good.” He breathes out finally. “Just change the dressing tomorrow morning if you need to. Or get someone else to have a look. It’s stopped bleeding but you probably shouldn’t move it too much.” He packs up the medkit and slides it away. “I’m sorry, I’m not the best at medical stuff. I don’t heal like normal anyways.”

Ah, yes. Atsushi’s superhuman healing abilities. Akutagawa’s eyes fall on Atsushi’s leg, the one Rashomon cut off completely once. There's not even a scar, no markings whatsoever to indicate that once Akutagawa’s ability had completely bit it off. Meanwhile healing this wound on his own arm is probably going to take weeks. He’s bitter.

Atsushi’s leg shifts, and it reminds Akutagawa that staring is considered rude. He coughs once, extends Rashomon out to wrap around his forearm, all the previous dried blood devoured instantly. He goes back to eating.

"What do you think we should do now? About the case I mean?" Atsushi asks. Akutagawa hums around his food, then speaks.

"I don't know. There seems to be no news of any ability users that people are aware of, so it might just be one person acting alone.”

"We could ask Ranpo... He'd solve it really quick, but we'd have to convince him it was worth the time."

"I won't work with the Detective Agency." Akutagawa snaps back. It's for the best, There would be more questions than are worth his time if others got involved. No, this venture has to be between Atsushi and him, or he's cutting Atsushi loose and going at it alone.

"What do you mean, we're literally working together right now and I'm part of the Detective Agency."

"Other than you, no one else."

"Fine.. I don't really want to field questions about it either... Dazai-san would be insufferable about it."

Akutagawa snorts. That's true, Dazai is very strangely invested in their relationship.

“The girl, the one with the burn mark. I think it would be worth something if we can talk to her again. I'm willing to bet she knows more than she's letting on," Atsushi says.

"It would make sense, if she knows something about the ability user, she might be trying to protect them, or throw us off the scent. She could even be an ability user."

It's not a bad theory, and more likely than the crime syndicates having an ability user working for them. "I guess we're going back to Suribachi then." Atsushi sounds resigned, and Akutagawa kind of understands the feeling.

With the plan in place to meet again in Suribachi the next evening, Akutagawa leaves the Detective Agency dorms with a Tupperware container full of excess curry, feeling more satisfied than he has in years.

When he gets into the apartment close to one in the morning, Gin is up watching a trashy drama rerun in front of the couch. She looks exhausted as she glances up at him, shower damp hair clinging to her shoulders. The TV is the only source of light in the room, the blueish light making the bags under her eyes seem heavier.

“You’re in late,” she says. “I thought you had the day off today.”

“I did. I was just out.”

She hums. “You don’t just go out,” Her eyes are back on the drama. Akutagawa turns on the kitchen light and she whines in protest.

“Did you eat? Do you want some curry?” Akutagawa puts the tupperware on the counter.

“Yeah, sure.”

Akutagawa gives her the tupperware after it’s had a stint in the microwave. The noise of the drama makes Akutagawa feel more at ease, background noise that’s inconsequential and unrelated to his life. The leads of the drama are talking about how they’re in love and standing in the rain. He won’t ever admit it but dramas are nice. He’s pretty sure Gin knows he likes them.

He flops onto the other couch to watch. When they first moved into this apartment they went to the fanciest furniture store in Yokohama. They bought a slew of expensive furniture just because they could.

“This tastes nice, where’d you get it from?”

Akutagawa doesn’t particularly want to let her know she’s been at Atsushi’s for dinner, or working a case with him at all. “Just from a place.”

“Nakahara-san wants you to be in his office early tomorrow. At like 8.” Akutagawa lets out a groan. He ended up staying at Atsushi’s for significantly longer than he ever would have imagined, and now he’s going to get a terrible night's sleep. He hopes Chuuya is feeling magnanimous tomorrow. He knows Akutagawa is a night person, and rarely calls him in earlier than 11. It must be important then. “You should go to sleep now.”

“Not tired.” He yawns. It earns him a look from Gin. “How many episodes have you seen tonight?”

“Like two. I might watch another one after this.” Akutagawa hums. He wants to stay up and watch but he really should try to sleep. It felt like a fever dream to be back in the slums again, he avoids Port Mafia assignments there like the plague, and Chuuya seems to have caught on because he never makes Akutagawa do them. His mind is alive with memories of kids running, adults yelling and the bone deep pang of a stomach that hasn’t been filled in days. He doesn’t want to sleep just yet.

Being around Atsushi always makes Akutagawa think about Dazai, which he tries not to do too often. His life is already twisted and intermingled with Dazai’s enough, horrific memories of their time together in the mafia haunt his dreams. He can’t help but compare this Dazai, this new Dazai, who is different in ways Akutagawa can’t even begin to comprehend, to the Dazai Akutagawa knew. The way Dazai is just so… so fond of Atsushi, they way he has complete trust in him to be the best he can be. Atsushi doubts himself, but Dazai doesn’t doubt him, Akutagawa can see that.

It’s such a far cry from the insults, the injuries, the pain. Training for Akutagawa was torture. But Atsushi and Dazai seem different. As if beyond their professional relationship, they’re actually friends. Akutagawa never even had something close to that. In the Port Mafia, he trained everyday, martial arts training until he threw up, then ability training with Dazai until Dazai was satisfied. Dazai was rarely satisfied. There were broken bones then. And being locked out of his room for the night.

Akutagawa remembers one night, after a mission went perfectly. For once Akutagawa didn’t make a single mistake. There was a swell of pride in his stomach, and he could hardly hide his giddy excitement when they got back to the Port Mafia building. And then Dazai called him up to his office. He congratulated him on a job well done. He had a gift, a box of mandarins, and he made Akutagawa eat every single one of them, one after the other, until they were gone. Even when he couldn’t anymore, Dazai made him eat, forcing the fruit into his mouth. The burn of citrus in his nose, the way he couldn’t get rid of the smell in his shirt for weeks. These whims Dazai subjected him to, Akutagawa still tries to find meaning in, because there has to be a reason for it.

The drama is still playing. He’s only halfway paying attention as his eyelids get heavier. He wants to sink into their expensive couch.

“Oi.” He jolts awake when Gin kicks his shin. “No sleeping on the couch.” He groans back in response. “You’ll fuck up your back.”

He usually has trouble sleeping, but as soon as his head hits the pillow he finds himself dead to the world in a dreamless sleep.

The sun is setting when they meet again outside the city. Atsushi doesn't seem any more at ease as their boots crunch across the dirt leading to the gate.

Akutagawa doesn't think finding the girl is going to be very easy this time around. She probably will be avoiding them, and news of them being back will travel fast.

On the edge of the crudely constructed gate is where he sees it again. That flash of blue out of the corner of his eye. He thinks this time he definitely hears a laugh too.

He hears a sharp intake of breath before he registers it as his own.

And then he takes off.

This time he runs after the child with no hesitation. Either way it has to be related to this case, he's sure of it. He sees now what he couldn’t in the twilight the first time round. The child he knows to be dead is running and running, and a faint trail of light follows his step like a mistake, clipping through the edges of the world in error.

Atsushi calls out to him, but he pays no attention, he just runs. His lungs burn as they struggle to function, but he keeps going.

The child is faster than him, unnaturally so. It’s a spirit, he knows that now. It’s not really here. He pushes faster.

Atsushi is just behind him. He can hear his feet pounding on the ground just behind his, getting ready to anticipate whichever way he turns. Atsushi could run faster than him, if he wanted, but it’s nice now that he chooses to follow Akutagawa’s lead.

They're going deeper and deeper towards the centre of the bowl, headed towards the area they were yesterday. The child is running with no particular pattern, dodging through small alleys and up over fences. For a brief moment, he feels the dirt on his feet as he runs, feels like his arms are too short to reach the top of the next fence, feels the desperate gnawing hunger in his stomach.

They round a corner of an alley. It's a wider alcove, and there are people here. Four men surround a small figure, one has a knife. He hears Atsushi gasp behind him, then move past him as he launches himself towards the four men with no hesitation.

Akutagawa rallies his Rashomon, taking out the men on the left side while Atsushi bodies the right. These slum criminals are nothing to the likes of them, Akutagawa barely moving his body at all as Rashomon closes around their throats and then releases as their bodies are thrown into unconsciousness. It's an ironic scene, Atsushi's two opponents are bloody faced from where he's slammed his fist into their faces, while Akutagawa's side looks almost like they're peacefully sleeping. Isn’t the weretiger supposed to be the righteous one?

The figure, the girl from before is curled in a ball on the ground, hands protecting her head as she silently cries. Atsushi's still transformed arm reaches out towards her tentatively. She sits up and scurries back away from them.

"Please... leave..." She chokes out between sobs, "Please just go! It's what he wants! He wants you here, he's going to hurt you! Please go!"

“Who?” Akutagawa mind races. The teenager from before?

"We can help, trust us," Atsushi speaks softly. His arms still haven't returned to human, but he's half angling them away from her like she'd be offended at the sight of his furry arms. She probably would be. They offend Akutagawa.

"No you can't, you don't understand! He's using them, the spirits! He's using them to... to make people do things!" She's scuffled back more and more until her back has hit the wire fence.

"Like what? What things does he do?" Atsushi gently prods.

"No!” She’s hysterical as she digs her fingers into her scalp more. “He told me not to talk to you! But he wants to lure you here, that's why he's showing him his friend!" Her silent sobbing has turned into full blown panic. Her tiny body is shaking like a leaf as she cries and cries and cries. "It was never meant to be like this!"

"Kid," Akutagawa speaks now. "Who is doing this?” he asks again.

"He's going to kill me," She sobs back. “He’s going to kill me, you don’t understand!”

Akutagawa sighs. He sits down a couple of metres away from the girl. “No one can hurt you with us here.” Mariko still doesn’t seem sure.

“Akutagawa.” Atsushi speaks. “We should get out of here.” He nods down at the unconscious men. “There might be more.”

“Kid, do you have anywhere we can go?” The girl shakes her head no. “Somewhere that isn’t here. Anywhere.” She looks up at him with red rimmed eyes. She seems to consider this, before finally standing up. She’s still shaking heavily as she assesses the men on the ground, as if she’s finally now realising that they have been dealt with. She nods, turns on her heel and starts walking. They follow her, heads bowed to avoid attention, to a secluded garden area. There are planting boxes around them, and fresh produce in varying states of growth. A calico cat sits on the edge of the roof overlooking the area. It stares at them as the girl takes a breath.

“Are you Mariko-chan?” Atsushi asks. She looks surprised and instantly suspicious again. At least she has stopped shaking. “U-uh, we met a teenager who told us your name, that’s all!” Atsushi stutters out.

“Yeah.” She seems to accept the explanation. She wrings her hands together over and over.

“Why don’t you tell us what happened?” Akutagawa tries now.

She looks nervous and upset. She starts to quietly speak. “I don’t… I don’t really know…”

“Why are people seeing ghosts here?” Something hard sets in her eyes.

“It’s… my father…” Her arms wrap around herself. “His ability… I don’t know how it works. It only started happening a few weeks ago. But he can bring spirits into this world. They are mean to the grown ups who do bad things.”

Akutagawa thinks back to the abandoned street. It’s possible there was a small time gang using the street's dwellings as their base.

“The figure in the street,” Akutagawa addresses Atsushi. “It must’ve been a spirit. There was n-”

“No presence.” A flare of irritation goes through Akutagawa after Atsushi interrupts him. So arrogant. He scowls at the other, who just shrugs in response.

“But he’s hurting people too!” Mariko yells. “One of the spirits says so. He’s using them to clear out places people live. And he can control them. The spirits. Make them fight people they don’t want to fight. It’s not nice.”

Akutagawa nods at the girl. Seems like the father is just some slum scum trying to take out some rivals. He wonders if the man is related to a gang, or if he's just acting in his own self interest. “We will help. Ability users are our domain.” He tells the girl.

“What’s.. What is going to happen to the others? The spirits?”

“If they’re a part of the ability user's power they will go away. We don’t know how the power works yet though.” Akutagawa figures honesty is the best policy.

“But they’re… they’re my friends! Please don’t hurt them… Even though I know they’re already dead. They protect me.”

“From what?”

“My dad. One of the spirits found out he hit me and unlocked the door to my room so I could get out. I haven’t been back since escaping.” Atsushi stiffens. Akutagawa’s eyes return once more to the burn mark on her face. “He’s going to be mad. He said he would kill me if I ever left again.”

Atsushi sucks in a breath. “We won’t ever let that happen.”

“I won’t tell you where he is.”

“Why not?” Akutagawa tries not to sound exasperated by this obviously traumatised child.

“Because he will kill me!”

“We will take you away. It’s okay now, we’re here.” Atsushi goes for comforting, but Akutagawa can tell he’s angry.

The girl assesses him. She nods slowly. "He's in an apartment, outside the slums. He never leaves anymore."

Akutagawa nods and stands up. "Do you have anywhere to go now? Anyone you trust?" She shakes her head no.

Atsushi pulls out his phone. "I'll call the agency." It’s not Akutagawa’s first choice. He will have to leave before a member of the agency gets to them, or he's going to have a lot of explaining to do.

They walk out of the slums, up across the foot bridge that connects Suribachi. The girl has leveled out, and she seems exhausted. Atsushi whispers something in her ear and then hoists her onto his back, where she starts to drift off near immediately.

Akutagawa considers leaving before whoever the agency sent shows up. He doesn't know if it'll be worse if it's Dazai and his knowing looks, or if it's just some random detective he's never met before. Atsushi didn't say anything on the phone to warn them.

Akutagawa is seriously considering legging it to the Lawson's when a black cab pulls up on the sidewalk a bit away. The girl is pushed back into alertness at the sudden commotion and wriggles off Atsushi's back. A flurry of brown coat emerges from the cab. Akutagawa might want to die in this moment.

"Atsushi-kun! Oh and Akutagawa-kun what a coincidence!"

Dazai's partner steps out of the taxi after him, thunderous expression on his face.

He storms towards Akutagawa and Atsushi, a sheet of his notebook ripped out and ready to go.

"Atsushi-kun, get back!"

Akutagawa really doesn't want to fight this guy. He's a formidable opponent, as expected of Dazai's partner. The last time they fought, Akutagawa was electrocuted to shit and it was painful as anything. God Akutagawa hates being electrocuted.

"Kunikida-san, it's really fine" Akutagawa didn't expect Atsushi to move in front of him, arms up to pacify his workmate. Akutagawa feels a small hand reach up and grasp his own, and looks down to see the girl stepping behind him, face leaned into his coat. What the hell.

Kunikida looks at Atsushi like he knows he's making a big mistake. Akutagawa can't say he disagrees. He looks like he's going to argue further when Dazai, who has been watching this whole damn exchange with nothing but a sly smile on his face and his hands in his pockets, places a hand on his partner's shoulder.

"Kunikida-kun, there is surely something Atsushi-kun can explain here," He smiles that annoying charming smile. "Atsushi-kun, what have you found with the Suribachi ghost case? Why is Akutagawa-kun here too?"

Akutagawa thinks Dazai probably knows that Atsushi and him have been working on this together. Akutagawa was at the dorms earlier in the week, and he suspects Dazai keeps a close eye on the visitors to his favourite student's room.

"Akutagawa saw one of the ghosts, so he's a witness?" Atsushi sounds so unsure. He probably doesn't want to admit that Akutagawa basically shoehorned himself into this case and has been following him around all week. Atsushi can honestly handle Dazai and the rat's tail man himself, Akutagawa doesn't want to upset any balance by opening his stupid mouth and saying the wrong thing.

Dazai nods at Atsushi to continue.

"Uh, well, we believe the ability user is based in an apartment on the next street over. He is the father of Mariko-chan over here, and we believe he has been using an ability that has something to do with calling spirits in Suribachi and this area." Atsushi scratches at the back of his head.

Mariko leans further into Akutagawa's side at the mention of her name. Her hand tightens around his, and he gives it what is hopefully a reassuring squeeze back.

Dazai hums and considers the information for a moment. "Well Atsushi-kun, looks like you two have got it sorted out here. Kunikida-kun, let's take the girl back to the Detective Agency and leave them to it," He turns to Atsushi.

Atsushi looks confused. Akutagawa gets it. When Dazai was in the mafia he used to make all sorts of seemingly non-nonsensical decisions. Right now, it would make more sense for Dazai to come with them and neutralise Mariko's father's ability. But Akutagawa knows that arguing against Dazai's decision making will land you nothing but a split lip and damaged self-esteem. At least in Akutagawa's case.

Instead of arguing, Atsushi crouches down and reaches a hand out to Mariko. She still won't let go of Akutagawa's hand, a bold strategy. She looks up at Akutagawa, like she's trying to work out if it's really okay to go with the detectives.

"It's okay," Atsushi says. "They're going to help us." He levels her with his nicest smile. God he's the worst.

Mariko doesn't budge from his side even now. Atsushi is now leveling Akutagawa with pleading eyes. Is something in the air today? Akutagawa shifts away from the girl, and crouches so he's eye level with her.

"It's fine. They will take you back to the Detective Agency where he works while we go and deal with your father." Akutagawa knows his bedside manner isn't very good, but he's hoping if he explains every step that she will trust him enough to go with the detectives. "Nothing bad will happen when you are with them. They are stronger than Atsushi and I." He sees Atsushi's face screw up at the mention of his given name out of the corner of his eye. It felt disgusting and unnatural as it rolled off his tongue too.

But it works. Mariko lets go of Akutagawa's hand. She takes a breath in and then out. When she opens her eyes there is steely determination. Despite himself Akutagawa feels strangely proud of this child. She goes towards Dazai.

"Akutagawa the child whisperer!" Dazai declares. Whatever pride and positive emotion Akutagawa felt is now replaced by pure irritation. "Akutagawa, you're gonna make a splendid father someday!"

His face burns. Dazai can never quite help himself with Akutagawa, slipping his fingers into barely closed wounds and pressing down. There is no way Akutagawa is going to even live long enough to even become anything close to a father figure for anyone.

"Dazai-san..." Atsushi's voice is softly chastising, and he looks at Akutagawa with pity in his eyes. It makes Akutagawa want to vomit.

"The apartment should be a 5 minute walk from here. Let's go" Akutagawa has no interest in sticking around the detectives any longer than he has to. He walks on ahead. Atsushi can catch up if he wants to.

He hears chatter and a car door close behind him. Atsushi's footsteps fall in line behind him again.

"I don't know why he's like that to you..." Atsushi thinks aloud. Akutagawa wants to stop this conversation dead in its tracks, but there's also a part of him that doesn't. He can't help but wonder what Dazai's new protege thinks of their relationship. He knows Atsushi saw him acting pathetically after the Moby Dick sank and Dazai praised him. Akutagawa couldn't help himself. "He's usually only that mean to Kunikida-san, but he knows Kunikida-san doesn't pay attention." Atsushi finishes.

"It's fine, weretiger,"

Atsushi hums in response.

"None of this will matter after I kill you," Akutagawa mumbles out, but it’s light, half hearted.

"You hones-" Atsushi stops himself. "Fine. Whatever you say then. Let's go find that ability user."

The apartment building seems inconspicuous enough. They knock on the door to the apartment number Mariko told them. No one answers.

Akutagawa slips Rashomon between the metal frame and pries. The door swings open.

"Hello?" Atsushi calls out. They walk on high alert into the room. The whole apartment stinks. There's signs of neglect all around the room in the form of old noodle cups growing small colonies, trash bags packed full of rubbish tipped and spilled across the room. The curtains are drawn, not letting any light show itself in the room.

"Akutagawa.. over here," Akutagawa joins Atsushi in the separate bedroom.

There's a body shaped lump under the futon. Atsushi peels back the cover.

A middle aged man lays, face contorted on the futon. His face looks like he was caught mid scream and frozen, a perfect snapshot. The skin around his petrified eyes is sunken in and sallow, his jaw skin drooping off his skull. His hands form ghastly claws as they sit rigid, angled to protect his head, as if it could do anything to prevent his death. Blood has soaked through the sheets, haloing the man's body in now dried, dark brown stains.

His chest cavity is gauged open, as if someone tried to cut cotton with dull scissors. His skin lays open, wounds deep enough that the sheets are visible on the other side. Whoever, or whatever did this to this man attacked him with pure animalistic violence.

Atsushi looks like he's going to be sick. Akutagawa has seen dead bodies before, but nothing like this. The whole room is thick with death and fury.

"That's... a lot," Atsushi throws the covers back over the man. It catches on his clawed hands, leaving his face exposed.

"This has to be the man she was talking about. No one has entered this room for weeks." There is a sinking feeling in Akutagawa's stomach, like there's a piece of this puzzle that hasn't yet clicked into place. Coming here without Dazai's nullifying ability was a mistake.

There's a rustle from the direction of the front door.

The hair on Akutagawa's neck rises, and Rashomon thrums as it readies itself for a fight. From his periphery, Akutagawa see's Atsushi's limbs transform to their feline form in the same beat.

At the front door stands a familiar figure. The man from the bed stares back at them, face stern. His chest shows no sign of trauma.

A faint blue glow engulfs the man's figure. With the sun shining through the hallway windows, Akutagawa can see that the man's skin is translucent.

"It's the ability user's power," Akutagawa says. The man hasn't moved yet, but Akutagawa can see tension building in his muscles.

Akutagawa doesn't wait now. He shoots Rashomon towards the spirit, but it cuts through his figure with no effect. Enraged, the man yells and darts towards him with superhuman speed. His fist heads for his side. Akutagawa dodges, but isn't expecting the rush of air that follows. It slams him up and into the apartment wall.

Atsushi tries to level a punch at the spirit, but his fist goes straight through its chest. It grabs him around the head and throws him towards the door.

Akutagawa knows what they have to do.

"Weretiger!" he yells, using Rashomon to propel himself towards Atsushi, "Go!" he let's go of Rashomon, letting the black fabric around Atsushi's transformed arm. He can feel Atsushi's pulse faintly as he slides around the other side, letting Atsushi be a barrier between himself and the spirit.

He feeds his power into Rashomon as Atsushi advances. From his vantage point, he can just see the spirit's enraged face as Atsushi draws back his claw and strikes. The blow lands, cutting the spirit's ghostly arm clean off. The limb falls to the floor and then vaporizes. The hit should have sliced cleanly through the spirit's chest. Atsushi is holding back.

"He's already dead, weretiger, land a better shot than that," Akutagawa would like this whole ordeal to be over quickly. He feels naked without his coat, and he's just uselessly acting as support while Atsushi uses his power in a better way than Akutagawa could.

Atsushi half growls before dragging his nails down the spirit's chest. The spirit yells out, not as if it's in pain but as if it can't believe Atsushi had the gall to attack him.

Instead of blood oozing out from Atsushi’s Rashomon covered claw marks, the spirit's chest smokes, and then burns. The claw marks collapse in on themselves, opening the chest up until it's completely hollowed out. Light pours out from the spirit's eyes and opening in its skin as it perishes into thin air.

Atsushi heaves a breath. "What the hell?" The black coat billows as Atsushi turns towards Akutagawa. "Are you okay?"

"Yes," Akutagawa stands up, and dusts off his white shirt. Atsushi goes to slip the coat off to return it just as it disintegrates around his form, slipping down and wrapping back around Akutagawa. He fixes the sleeves to the right length. "That was. Unexpected."

"What the hell," Atsushi says again. The fight has done nothing to help the chaos in the room. Akutagawa ripped open a bag of garbage getting his ass handed to him by a stupid ghost.

"It's Mariko. It has to be her, she's the central thread tying this all together." Akutagawa is already walking out the door.

"It can't be her! She doesn't seem like she knows anything about how it works at all." Atsushi is close on his heels. "Where are you going?!"

"To the Detective Agency. You know, where she is currently being cared for by your colleagues who don't know she's an ability user."

"Something's not right though! Why would she go with them in the first place, she could've just fought us at Suribachi, or when Kunikida-san and Dazai-san showed up! Why would she go with them? It doesn't make any sense-" Akutagawa turns back to look at Atsushi. He's stopped in the middle of the stairwell.

"She doesn't know." He breathes out. "It doesn't make sense unless she doesn't know it's her ability," There's something sad about the way Atsushi says this.

"Let's just get back." Atsushi steels himself in his resolve, "Quickly, before anything bad happens."

When they get to the Detective Agency, something bad has happened.

The detectives have spilled out onto the street below, admin team working to corral bystanders away from the scene. The man with the rat's tail is shouting orders while all the other ability users prepare for a fight.

Chaos surrounds them. There are spirits attacking members from all angles, ghostly blue trails following their bodies as they attack without thought. They form a sort of circle around the familiar small figure in the centre, attacking outwards, protecting her. It’s definitely her, how could Akutagawa have missed it?

Atsushi rushes out of the cab and yells for Rat's Tail. “Kunikida-sa-”

“You gave us an ability user and didn’t identify her as such? Atsushi-kun what were you thinking!” Rat's tail yells back. “And Dazai, that idiot, he went to go get the girl new clothes and snacks with Ranpo-san! Atsushi-kun, this is a disaster! We’ve already panicked the neighbours, think of our rapport! Not to mention she did some minor property damage which is not accounted for in the budget.” Rat's Tail yells at them all while dodging attacks from one of the spirits. It’s quite impressive actually. “And you, Port Mafia dog, what are you doing here? Now you’ve caused your trouble shouldn’t you have just left?”

Okay, ouch.

“No, Kunikida-san it’s not like that. He has nothing to do with this, well he does bu-”

A spirit manifests itself behind Atsushi and swipes. Akutagawa is just in time with Rashomon, dragging him out of the way before the hit lands. “This is all well and good, but can we talk about this later? I can think of a better use of this time.”

At that, Rat's Tail shuts up. He’s still furiously dodging spirit attacks, but it seems more like a bother than an actual threat to his life. The two spirits around them are less solid than the ones they have previously seen. Mariko must be stretched thin, at the breaking point of her power's limits. They still don’t really understand how it works, but the spirits fighting them are nearly transparent, and look significantly less human, with white glowing eyes and claw-like hands swiping at the Detective Agency members.

“I’ve called Dazai but he’s about 20 minutes away. We’re going to have to deal with them until then.”

“No need. The weretiger and I can cut through the ability. It seems to send them back.”

Rat’s Tail gives him a Look, and then gives Atsushi a different, less hostile Look. Atsushi just nods. “Okay,” he says. “If we keep them distracted, you can send them back. Or we have to last 20 minutes.”

“Okay, got it.” Atsushi felines his forearms. “Akutagawa. Let’s go.” Akutagawa gives Atsushi a sleeve of his coat, wrapping the fabric around his claws. They go, and cut through the spirits attacking Rat’s Tail and the blond kid. It works, and they breathe easy as white smoke dissipates in the air.

But then, emerging from behind Rat’s Tail, another one appears. This time it's even more beastly, sharp teeth bared as it goes to take a bite out of Rat’s Tail. They’re too far away, so Akutagawa uses Rashomon, and pulls him forward and out the way. He’s probably going to pay for that along the line, but whatever. They need Rat’s Tail alive for the rest of this fight.

They keep going, the detective’s trying to distract the spirits long enough for Atsushi to slice into them. They go away, but fresh spirits return, nastier than before.

“It’s not working!” The woman with the short bob yells. “They just keep coming!”

Akutagawa dodges the hit from another spirit, and looks over to where Mariko is still in tears on the ground. And then it hits him.

“Weretiger, we have to talk to her! Your agency can’t outlast this, and all we're doing is making them angry, and worse.” Atsushi nods at him. They share a look, then dash towards the girl. When they’re close, Atsushi yells.

“Okay. Give me all of Rashomon, I’ll cover you!” The spirits are now converging on them, abandoning the rest of the Detective Agency to attack the two closest to their owner.

"Go!" Atsushi turns, readying himself for the oncoming spirits. “It has to be you!”

Akutagawa feels like he's being pulled in every direction at once. He has to keep up a steady amount of focus into Rashomon, even as Atsushi uses it, and he can't see what he's doing now.

Mariko cowers in the middle of the street, sobs wrack her collapsed body. She cries loudly in grief, hands digging into her hair with her forehead on the ground.

Akutagawa kneels at her level, keeping his distance. "Oi." It's already going poorly.

She recoils away again.

"Kid, it's okay." He has no idea what he's doing. The last time he was put in charge of caring for a small child, he ended up trying to train her the same way he was trained. It felt bad to act like that to a small girl with no light in her eyes, but Akutagawa assumed it would get easier. It always felt like Dazai was having no problems at all, even as he shot at Akutagawa and broke his bones. Akutagawa shouldn’t be allowed near small children.

That wont work here, Akutagawa can tell. Mariko is like Atsushi, raised under the thumb of an abusive parental figure. The raised voices of the detective agency members making her more distressed.

"Your father, he's gone" he tries. She pauses. Her head stays firmly on the ground, but the hysterical sobbing has subsided a little. "He can never hurt you again, kid."

They sit there in the middle of the chaos for a beat. Akutagawa can see Atsushi from the corner of his eye as he cuts into another spirit, only for it to disappear a moment later.

Mariko lifts her head and meets his gaze. "He's gone?"

"He's gone," He confirms. "It wasn't his ability."

Mariko’s face turns from scared to confused. “You understand right?” He says, in what he hopes is a soft way. “It’s yours. It’s your ability.”

The tentative peace that they brokered is shattered again. Mariko screams an ear splitting screech. "You're lying! You're lying, you're lying, shut up!"

From behind the girl, smoke begins to rise up, forming the shape of a child. A gasp is ripped from his lungs.

It's Yuuji. This time, he's not smiling as he runs. His face looks distorted and foul, like a beast about to attack. His eyes glow a faint red.

Akutagawa jumps up. He can't use Rashomon with his shirt and leave Atsushi defenseless. He can see more spirits around the weretiger, so it's probably the best decision to leave Rashomon around his claws.

Yuuji sways slightly before locking his eyes on Akutagawa. Eyes locked on his target, he rushes towards Akutagawa. He looks barbaric, and anger flares in Akutagawa at his friend's spirit being disturbed so unpleasantly. Akugawa dodges back, feels the cold rush of air graze his cheek. Their eyes meet again, and up close now Akutagawa can see only soulless fury staring back at him.

He feels helpless once again. He doesn't know how he can defeat this enemy, not without Rashomon. He finds he can't even bring himself to want to fight the spirit of his dead childhood friend. There's only one thing he can do. Akutagawa is alive now, and Mariko is alive. This is a fight between the living.

"This must be hard to hear," He dodges more blows from Yuuji, "but you can control this, kid!" Yuuji's blows become more frantic as his inhumane fingers claw at Akutagawa, trying to find a hold.

"I don't want it!" she screams back.

"I know kid, but you have it. It's a part of you, it always has been." A fingernail grazes his cheekbone. The spirit is getting faster and more unpredictable as the dance around Mariko. Akutagawa doesn't have much time. "You can control this, I know you can. You're a smart kid, Mariko-chan. Can't you feel it?"

He turned to make eye contact with Mariko. The next thing he knows, there's a hit, and a cool sensation in his side. Then, hot firey pain. Yuuji has dragged his claws down Akutagawa's ribcage, down, down, to his hip bone. Akutagawa falls. Mariko looks on at him in horror. He thinks he hears Atsushi yell out in the background, but he can’t be sure.

"Do you feel it?" He asks again, "Try to make it go away." Warmth spreads up his side as he lay. The spirit of Yuuji looks down on him. He really is so small. Akutagawa wonders if he was this small when Dazai met him, if the people he killed when he started out in the mafia felt as ridiculous as he does now, losing to a malnourished child. Yuuji raises his hand. His hand looks less inhumane now, long nails reverted back into short ones housed in small chubby fingers. Yuuji pauses now, hand ready to strike frozen in the air. Akutagawa smiles.

"You're doing it." His side screams out in pain when he turns to face the girl again. "You're controlling your ability." Yuuji looks towards her, eyes returning to a normal state. He cocks his head to the side. His fingertips begin to glow that same blueish light, before he starts to completely fade. Akutagawa isn't sure how this girl's ability works at all, but he hopes he will rest peacefully from now on. This earth owes him that much at least. Akutagawa leans his head back on the pavement. The wound honestly isn't that bad, or rather he's had much, much worse, but all the adrenaline has left him, and without Rashomon on he feels exhausted.

He hears footsteps as she runs towards him, and a second pair from the opposite direction. He tilts his head up, and sees no sign of any more spirits.

"Akutagawa!" Atsushi kneels next to him, "Oh my god are you okay?"

"I will be once you give me my coat back, stupid weretiger" Akutagawa reaches his hand out and grasps onto Atsushi's forearm. He takes Rashomon back, feeling at ease once again as it slips around his body. He tightens it around the wound in his side, and goes to sit up.

"No, just stay down!" Atsushi pushes back, his hands firmly pressing Akutagawa back onto the pavement.

"That fucking hurt idiot, who trained you in triage?"

"Oh so you were just gonna stand up and make your injury worse huh? Big strong man, can't even wait until Yosano-san gets here to clear you?"

Mariko sits back from them, taken aback at the way they are bickering now. "I... I'm so sorry. Mister are you going to die?" She directs at Akutagawa.

"No, it's only a small wound."

Atsushi snorts. "You are so pigheaded."

"I am staying down at your insistence, am I not? I will be fine though, kid." Why does Akutagawa feel so compelled to put this child's mind at ease?

"Kid!" Another voice, Akutagawa thinks it's Rats Tail, yells out. He's next to them in a second. "Injuries?"

"Just one," He gestures down to where Akutagawa lays. "Can you send Yosano-san?"

Looking upside down at him, Akutagawa notes the conflict in Rat's Tails' face. He wonders if the detective is thinking about the time he electrocuted Akutagawa pretty bad. Not his finest day, but he got a good gauge of just how sharply intelligent Rat's Tail is. He might say no to Atsushi's request, and then Akutagawa is going to have to fight his way out of this stupid mess. He definitely can't take Rat's Tail like this, and the rest of the Detective Agency is just down the road. He's fucked.

Rat's Tail turns back and makes a gesture. Akutagawa feels like his head is filling up with cotton. Mariko looks at him in concern, tears welling in her eyes again.

Then, just as he is cursing his weak frail body, Akutagawa unceremoniously passes out.

When Akutagawa wakes up, he’s laying in a hospital bed in the dark. He sits up, expecting pain in his side but there is none. He runs his hand up the smooth skin under his plain white t-shirt, surprised. Sitting in the chair next to his bed is Atsushi, spread out and snoring lightly with his head tipped back. He looks ridiculous.

In the other chair sits Mariko, frozen and eyes wide as she looks at him like he’s going to attack. Akutagawa doesn’t know how to deal with this now the heat of the battle is over. He guesses she hasn’t really been in many situations with strange adults she doesn’t know, with a strange supernatural ability she doesn’t understand yet. The rules in Suribachi are different to the rules here, and Akutagawa can understand the uncertainty.

“Did you talk to the others?” He asks her.

“Yeah… a little bit but...” As she speaks, the doctor rounds the corner. She’s holding a chart in her hands.

“Oh ho, you’re awake now, boy?” Akutagawa knows from briefings that her ability is healing, and that she’s probably healed his wound. He doesn’t understand how someone with a non-destructive ability can be so terrifying. She gives him a wild grin, flips her short hair and advances towards him. Atsushi stirs awake in the chair.

“Yosano-san!” he says, then turns to where Akutagawa is sitting up, “Oh, Akutagawa! You’re awake!”

“So it seems.”

“How do you feel?”

“Fine. Healed.” He does not in fact feel fine. He feels nervous in the detective agency headquarters, like he’s got a hand hovering above a big red button. Any wrong move he makes now feels like it could be the end. He goes to swing his legs around to get up. The doctor is on him in a second, pushing him back down by the shoulders.

“I don’t think so, boy. I want to run a few tests first.”

“What? No. Absolutely not. No.” Akutagawa hates the way panic seeps in voice. There's no way he can let a detective agency member run any sort of test on his health.

Atsushi stands up. “Ahaha, Yosano-san! I don’t think that would be a very wise decision! I’m sure Akutagawa is very grateful for your treatment though...” He scowls at Akutagawa.

“Oh... thank you.” The doctor pulls his t-shirt up, exposing the flat of his stomach to the world. His face burns, and he pushes her hand away. Mariko giggles at this, like a traitor. The doctor hums.

“So interesting. You use your ability a lot.” She ponders. “It’s… a choice.” Akutagawa can see where this is going and he definitely doesn’t need to hear this, not another conversation about how weak he truly is, in mind and body. How can he leave, quickly? He wants his jacket back. “Anyways, I suppose you’re clear.”

Dazai chooses that moment to enter the room. “Akutagawa-kun, you’re awake!” More irritation. More anger. A bit of shame at Dazai seeing him in a hospital bed post injury.

“I’m so sorry I wasn’t there,” he doesn’t sound sorry at all, “but I am up to date with all that's transpired. Whew, you really gave us the old run around, little girl!” Dazai laughs. Mariko once again looks immensely suspicious of Dazai. She looks wound up, like she's ready to spring forward and run at any moment. Akutagawa hopes Dazai isn’t setting off her fight or flight response too much.

“Anyway it's all squared up! Mariko-chan, if you would please follow Yosano-san here to the president's office! He would just like to talk to you for a little bit, nothing to worry about at all.” Mariko looks at Akutagawa. He shrugs. This isn’t his territory at all. Mariko narrows her eyes, but jumps out of the chair and follows Yosano out of the room. It seems she has decided that they are a safe lot of adults, at least for now.

“What’s going to happen to her?” Akutagawa asks Dazai.

“Who knows. If I could read the president's mind I would have 30% less work to do on a yearly basis.” Atsushi mutters something about 30% of zero still being zero. “But I wanna talk about this. What did I tell you Atsushi-kun, you two make a pretty good pair!”

Akutagawa rolls his eyes. Here it comes. The non-stop Atsushi praise, Dazai assessing his entire worth as to what he can give to Atsushi, Dazai refusing to pay him a compliment. Akutagawa tunes it out as Dazai goes through what Rat’s Tail told him.

“Right, Akutagawa-kun?” Akutagawa nods. He figures it's just best to agree with whatever Dazai says until he can get out of here.

“Great! You’ll join us then! You’re going to love it!” Wait, what. Akutagawa looks at Atsushi in a panic, who just gives him a pitying look. Dazai throws the covers to the bed he’s in, then turns on his heel and walks out the door. Atsushi waits, shooting him a concerned look as Akutagawa stands up.

The doctor's ability is magnificent. He truly feels good as new, like he was never cut up the side by the spirit of his dead childhood friend. He might have to repress some of the experience later, but he’s a little bit delighted at the novelty of waking up uninjured. The doctor even fixed his arm wound from the other night. He doesn’t feel wobbly on his feet at all as he slips into the slippers on the ground, and follows Dazai out the room, watched closely by Atsushi behind him.

He’s sitting sandwiched between Atsushi and the doctor. They sit in the main office space, where all the desks were pushed to the sides of the room, and dinner tables brought in. Rat’s Tail and the blond kid appear in the doorway holding a stack of portable stoves and pans. The blond kid smacks one down in front of them, and the doctor gets to work inserting the gas canister and setting the pan on top. Akutagawa feels useless and out of place while the rest of the table begins distributing ingredients. Atsushi leans up half out of his chair passing things around so every portable stove has an even distribution of noodles, cabbage and meat.

Akutagawa wants to escape now, wishing he listened as Dazai was apparently goading him into dining with the Detective Agency. He could probably throw Atsushi forward as a distraction and then jump out the window, if he’s fast enough and times it just right. Who is he kidding though? He could never best the entire Detective Agency. They are Dazai’s colleagues after all.

With the pans heating up, the doctor starts placing the pork belly in. The rest of the table is loud, laughing about some inside joke Akutagawa’s definitely not a part of. There are four different conversations going on all at once, and Akutagawa feels so overwhelmed by the situation that he’s just tuning everyone out. Mori once told him that the Detective Agency and the Port Mafia were two sides of the same coin. Right now he feels it, like he's out drinking with Chuuya and the Black Lizards. The way the doctor sits back and lets things happen around them feels familiar, and Akutagawa would be more at ease if she started shouting at someone acting foolishly, or if she cracked a bottle of expensive wine. He has doubts she could afford the same standard as a mafia executive.

Atsushi has poured their area cups of bottled green tea, and is handing out the chipped plastic chopsticks. Akutagawa doesn’t know what he should be doing yet again, still looking towards the exits. Being given things like this doesn’t sit right with him at all. The blond farm boy sits opposite Akutagawa, telling a story to what he guesses is an admin worker. He occasionally looks over to Akutagawa like he's also telling the story to him, but that definitely can't be right. He's probably looking at Akutagawa to see if he's going to pull a fast one on them, which honestly he's still on the fence about.

The doctor has added the noodles and sauce while Akutagawa was busy being confused over a small blond child, and she unceremoniously dumps a messy pile onto the paper plate in front of Akutagawa. She doesn’t even give him a glance before she's adding the yakisoba to Atsushi and the blond kid’s plate. She starts the process again, adding more pork belly to the pan. Akutagawa just stares at the shiny brown noodles, hands still frozen in his lap.

Dazai is loud at the other end of the table. He’s touting the effectiveness of inhaling butane as a painless form of suicide while Rat's Tail tells him to shut up and eat his noodles. The redhead guy he nearly killed in an alley is manning the middle burner, sneaking bites of cabbage while he’s cooking, and then being chastised by the girl he also nearly killed in an alley. Kyouka hasn’t stopped glaring at Akutagawa, like he's going to start a fight in the middle of the meal and she needs to be ready for it. Akutagawa really has some PR work to do if Dazai really wants Atsushi and him to work together more. Not that he's really going to put any effort into making amends with these people.

Why is Akutagawa here at all? As he steered him towards the table, Dazai told him that he may as well stay to eat, that his coat was in their dryer, and that the Detective Agency does this frequently after they've closed a big case.

“Eat,” the doctor instructs him. It’s more of a command than a suggestion, so Akutagawa picks up the chopsticks and pushes the yakisoba around. The supermarket-bought sauce leaves its mark on the plate. He brings a piece of pork belly to his mouth and chews. In all honesty Akutagawa has had better. Chuuya fancies himself a connoisseur of fine things, and so Akutagawa gets dragged to a lot of fine restaurants against his will for the sake of Chuuya "checking in" on him. The two of them usually stay late into the night, Chuuya often letting his tongue run loose with a bottle of red wine.

But the yakisoba tastes better among the gentle comradery of the detective agency. He’s not a part of this moment, not really, but it’s still… nice. In a way that reminds him of dinner with his sister, of the joy of sharing an actual meal, stolen or otherwise, in Suribachi all those years ago. So he eats, and is quiet, and hopes no one tries to kill him, or arrest him, or lecture him. He was invited under obligation and convenience, nothing more, and now after the fighting is over, he won’t cause problems.

“Did you enjoy my treatment, boy?” The doctor grins at him. He’s never wanted to run away and hide from a person like he does with this woman. She holds the BBQ tongs in her gloved hand, but they may as well be a gun or a knife. “You were awakened by the chainsaw noise. Don’t you remember?”

Akutagawa does remember. Before today, he didn’t realise the way her power worked. He thought she was about to kill him, bringing a chainsaw down on his torso. He felt his ribs crack and splinter under the pressure before he passed out yet again. He nods.

“Oh ho… you didn’t even scream out… so disappointing,” Akutagawa thinks she would probably fit right in with an attitude like this in the Port Mafia. Despite himself, Akutagawa feels a bit comforted by it. The other detectives here are do-gooder types. Well, aside from Dazai. It’s sickening.

Before he can really stop himself he blurts out, “You have a really strong power.” He looks down at his plate of food. “Thank you.”

She hums instead of saying anything. So far she’s the only one who has spoken to him apart from Atsushi and Dazai. She might have a supporting ability, but there’s something about the way she holds herself that makes Akutagawa think she’s not someone he wants to get on the wrong side of.

“Do you like being in the mafia?”

What a strange question. Akutagawa has very rarely given thought to things that he likes, finding pleasure in life is a luxury he doesn't indulge in often. He doesn't think he's ever considered whether or not he enjoys his work. It's work. He does it because he and Gin need money still, because he feels powerful doing it in some respects, and because he's never once considered that Dazai wasn't being truthful when he told Akutagawa that this was the life for him. Too much to unload onto a stranger.

"It is sufficient." He settles on instead.

"What about the boss?" She asks now, another strange question. She is probably mining him for information, feeding him yakisoba while getting him to divulge all the mafia's secrets. He's seen right through it of course. He narrows his eyes at her.

"Like any other boss, I'd imagine."

She hums, but drops the subject. Akutagawa eats more noodles, chewing each bite with more care than Atsushi, who sits next to him, shoveling noodles in his mouth like it's the last meal he's ever going to eat. It makes Akutagawa want to reprimand him for being improper. He wants to start shit with Atsushi, any reason will do, just for some sense of normalcy.

The door to the president's office opens, and out steps Mariko followed by the detective agency president. The room falls silent. Atsushi stands up in the seat next to him and pulls on Akutagawa's shirt to tell him to stand too. When Mariko sees Akutagawa, relief paints her face, and she dashes over to where he and Atsushi stand, and circles her tiny arms around Akutagawa's waist. Akutagawa has no idea what to do now. Truly this is a worst case scenario for him. He pats her head awkwardly while Atsushi snickers next to him.

"I'm sorry." Mariko pulls away and looks down. She looks ashamed and unspeakably sad. "I... I didn't know, I didn't know that it was me. I didn't mean to cause you any harm."

Atsushi looks at Akutagawa expectantly, like he wants him to say something to this child. He doesn't. If he were alone he'd tell her the wisdom he tried to impart on Kyouka, what Dazai tried to teach him. She needs to be stronger than this to survive the slums, needs to train her power to be as strong as it can.

"We have agreed to set Mariko-chan up with a family just outside the city. They should be able to care for her and train her in using her ability. She will stay there for the time being." The president carries himself with an air of elegance and power that's hard to come by. Akutagawa can appreciate his traditional outfit, and the katana that rests on his hip. His stern expression falls on Akutagawa, and Akutagawa is struck with just how similar the president and the Port Mafia boss are. It’s no wonder they don’t get along.

"You are permitted to visit, provided Atsushi-kun goes with you." He says. “If you want to go, you will inform him, and take it from there.” It’s a strange thing to offer. Akutagawa hopes the confusion doesn’t pass his face. Why would the detective agency leader risk letting a Port Mafia operative into a safe zone of theirs? Why is he telling Akutagawa where Mariko will be now?

Fukuzawa looks down at the girl. “She is grateful that you saved her.” Ah. Of course he noticed Akutagawa’s inner turmoil. Mariko’s head swings from the president to Akutagawa and back to the president, like she’s watching a tennis match. “We will allow this concession, just this once.”

“Yes sir.” Akutagawa lets out before he can stop it. Dazai snorts behind him, and Akutagawa wishes the ground would open up and swallow him whole. The tops of his cheeks burn, and he tries his best to will it away. A Port Mafia dog submitting to the leader of their biggest rival group, what a joke.

Fukuzawa hums. "You two did well today." He turns, zori clacking on the hardwood floors as he returns to his office. The members of the Detective Agency resume their merrymaking.

After Fukuzawa leaves, Akutagawa hears a deep sigh from behind him. "So the mafia guy gets praised this month before I do?" comes from the short guy in brown. Akutagawa understands he is the fiercely intelligent super detective, with intellect to rival Dazai’s. Chuuya still screams about him trapping him in a book, and if he recognises Chuuya as powerful enough to be the decider in most battles and came up with a way of taking him out of commission, well. Maybe he is smart.

Mariko takes another step towards Akutagwa as the doctor says "You want some noodles?" She looks up at him, as if asking for his permission. Aktuagawa nods at her. She doesn’t need his permission to eat here anyways, they are both outsiders to the Detective Agency. The doctor pulls up another chair for the girl, and she clambers her tiny child body onto it. Akutagawa grabs her a fresh paper plate and plastic cup. When he holds out chopsticks for her, she looks at them like they have personally offended her.

“I don’t know how to use them.” Akutagawa’s eyebrows raise. He lets out a chuckle, and Mariko’s expression immediately sours.

“No, no... I didn’t know how to either. When I was your age.” Chuuya taught him how, in his first month in the mafia. He never even laughed as his coaxed Akutagawa’s small hands into the right formation to hold them, but Akutagawa isn’t Chuuya. He smirks again. “Here.” He holds his hand out for the child’s. She lets him maneuver her hands around the chopsticks. “Just hold the top chopstick and move these two fingers.” She does, shakily. He nods. “Practice.” He snipes some yakisoba from the pan on the burner and places it on her plate. It’s mostly noodles and cabbage, and the doctor has gone to get more of the good stuff from the office fridge. Akutagawa looks around the table and unfortunately catches the eye of the blond farmer boy.

His huge eyes light up in understanding. It’s too late for Akutagawa to pretend he didn't make eye contact. Atsushi has left the seat beside him, leaving him defenceless against this kid.

“Here!” The blond kid says cheerily. He pushes over a plate. Bits of cooked pork belly and vegetables outweigh the noodles on the plate. Akutagawa leans forward and picks the plate up. He starts to add the best bits to the girl's plate. She sits unbothered, swinging her top chopstick towards the bottom one over and over again. It makes something inside Akutagawa feel a little more at ease.

“Try now.” He instructs. She picks up a small piece of pork belly and it slips out of her chopsticks. She tries again, and again, before she manages to hold it steady. She smears it on her cheek as she eats it. Akutagawa shakes his head. Both the doctor and the blond boy are looking at Mariko fondly too, and he supposes they have more of a right to than he does. They are her new protectors by proxy now. The doctor grins at him, like they are sharing a little inside joke between them. Akutagawa drinks his green tea.

Mariko finishes her noodles. “Do you even work here? That guy seems surprised you helped me.” She says loudly, in the way kids speak because they have no sense of volume control.

“No, I don’t.” He says back.

“Is that why they don’t like you?” Getting called out by a nine year old stings his pride.

“I am in the mafia.” He offers as an explanation.

“Oh. Cool. Can I have some more tea?” He pours her some. Kids. So judgemental yet so… not… at the same time. “I heard of you, I think. Maybe. From my dad? Maybe that’s why I sent Yuuji-kun to you. But I didn’t know. I’m sorry.” She finishes quietly. Akutagawa just nods at her, and refills her tea.

After a while, Kyouka comes around to their side of the table. She asks Mariko if she would like to join her and Kenji for some card game by the side table. Mariko once again looks to Akutagawa for approval. He shrugs in response. Mariko looks back at Kyouka, who pointedly doesn’t look at Akutagawa, and stands up to follow her. Now alone, Akutagawa wonders how long the agency is going to keep eating, and if he can just up and leave now. The doctor has stuck close to him this whole meal, and while he’s sure it's to make sure he doesn’t try anything, he’s strangely comforted by her presence anyway. She’s still cooking, still loading up the blond kid's plate with more food Akutagawa’s ever seen any child consume. He chances a glance around at everyone else.

Atsushi has migrated to Dazai’s side, disputing something Dazai is showing him on his phone. Rat’s Tail sits next to them, looking like he’s about to pop a blood vessel at Dazai’s irritating laughter. Atsushi keeps trying to reach for the phone as Dazai holds it an arm's length away. It’s weird to see Dazai like this, carefree and smiling. He teases Atsushi gently, in a way that doesn’t cross boundaries or cause harm. It’s a very different image of his former mentor to the one that lives in his head.

Rat's Tail angrily yells at Dazai to stop teasing Atsushi, but continues to pile his plate up with yakisoba as it’s done cooking. Dazai instead focuses his attention on annoying Rat's Tail as Atsushi stands awkwardly in the middle, trying to mediate as best he can. Even so, Dazai laughs and laughs. Akutagawa looks away.

The doctor has put more food on his plate when he looks down at it. All the pork belly is gone now, and it’s pretty much just noodles and cabbage.

“You need to eat more, boy” He doesn’t eat a lot on a good day, and in one meal he’s probably doubled his daily intake anyways. “Generally, too.”

“What?”

“You need to eat more generally. You’ll never get stronger without some meat on those bones. My professional opinion.”

“I’ve read your file. I don’t believe you’ve been to medical school,”

The corner of her mouth twists into a smirk. “Hmm, I suppose you’re right.”

On the other side of the table Rat's Tail is trying to dump more noodles on Dazai’s plate while a bandaged hand playfully tries to bat it away. Rat's Tail succeeds in dumping noodles on Dazai’s plate, and Dazai pouts in response. Dazai picks up his chopsticks and gestures for Atsushi to crouch down to his level. Atsushi looks bashful as he is fed Dazai’s noodles, and catches some sauce covered cabbage with his hands as it slips out from the chopsticks, saving his white dress shirt. Rage builds in Akutagawa’s gut as the acidic scent of mandarins fills his nostrils. He hears the plastic chopsticks crack in his hands, and looks at the wood grain in the table and hopes the eyes in the wood will open up and swallow him whole.

“Out the front door and to the right. Goes to the roof.” The doctor doesn’t even look phased as she pries the broken chopsticks out of his fist. He stands up, wishes he was wearing his coat instead of this stupid borrowed shirt, and heads out the front door without a word. He misses the way heterochromatic eyes follow his movement as he walks away.

The winter air rushes around him as he stands on the roof. He’s still only wearing the plain white t-shirt that he woke up in, and he misses his coat. The cold offers some reprieve to his unruly thoughts. Inside the Detective Agency, he felt like he was being pulled in every direction at once, but here he can see the familiar building of the Port Mafia headquarters, and can think of the most efficient way to get there, or back to his apartment if he needs to.

The cold metal of railing stings his hands, and his skin is raised in goosebumps from the air's chill. It doesn’t do anything to change the swell of hot metallic rage that churns inside him. He doesn’t have to go back inside, really. He can get his coat back from the weretiger some other time if need be. But leaving now like this feels oddly like giving up. He just needs a moment, then he can go back, and try to not piss off anyone at the Detective Agency.

Akutagawa can’t reconcile the person Dazai is now with the person he knew, the person who took him in, who gave him a home and a purpose at such a high cost. Dazai from the past has no soft edges, no niceness to him that isn’t calculated. But now, Dazai laughs with his coworkers, accepts gentle teasing and talkback, and treats his subordinates, not just Atsushi but all the younger ones with a level of respect Akutagawa has never seen before. He thought that Dazai was playing them, because what purpose could he have had in joining them? Akutagawa doesn’t understand the motivation at all, but he sees the outcome. He doesn’t think there would ever be a universe in which Dazai could be described as happy, but in the post-mission celebratory bliss of the dinner, maybe it's as close as he’s going to get.

It's unpleasant to think about. How Dazai, the worst of them all, got to leave, and leave them all behind. Akutagawa stays with the Port Mafia, because no one gets to leave with nothing short of divine intervention. And whatever godlike act Dazai pulled to have his entire history scratched from the record will never happen to any of them.

The door opens and closes behind him. Akutagawa doesn’t bother looking back as Atsushi joins him on the roof.

“Here.” Atsushi says. He’s holding a pile of Akutagawa’s clothing, freshly pressed from cleaning. Akutagawa takes his jacket from the top of the pile and puts it on. He feels Rashomon spread between the familiar fibres of the coat, and feels warmer despite the lack of temperature change.

They stand on the roof like this, looking over across the city. It’s awkward. What are they supposed to do now? With no case between them, Akutagawa feels like he’s taking up Atsushi’s time unfairly. Atsushi should just go and eat his late lunch, and laugh with his coworkers, and leave Akutagawa on the roof alone. But selfishly, Akutagawa doesn’t want him to do that.

“Are you mad at me?” Atsushi asks, and Akutagawa wasn’t mad before, not really, but is now.

“Why would I be mad at you, weretiger?”

“I don’t know!” Atsushi says defensively. “This is weird! I’m sorry everyone's so intense, it’s overwhelming.”

“Oh. Is that all? You’ve met the Port Mafia ability users. It’s the same. Kaji never lets us have a normal meal either.”

“Oh, the bomb guy.” Akutagawa thinks back to the time Kaji tried to blow the doctor up on a train, and regrets bringing his name up at all. He lets out a sigh.

“I can leave. If it's making you uncomfortable.”

“No!” Atsushi spins quickly to face him. “No, but is it… making you uncomfortable? To be here with… with him?”

And there's Dazai again. Akutagawa is a little bit over Atsushi walking on eggshells when Dazai gets brought up. He supposes it’s his own fault, for telling Atsushi that Dazai was his headmaster. It’s different though. Atsushi’s headmaster was weak, a predator who locked up a child to run experiments. No, what Dazai did, that was for Akutagawa’s own good. He knows deep down, Dazai was trying to help him, and he wants that back, no matter the cost.

"I think there's a part of Dazai-san that regrets you," Atsushi says. Akutagawa’s heart jumps up to his throat, but his words get stuck there too. "No, oh my god, not like that! I just mean that Dazai-san, now like, he tries. To be good. I've never questioned that about him, even when he does questionable things. I think he’s always trying to do things for the greater good. He even saved me when he didn’t have to."

Akutagawa thinks this is Dazai's manipulation speaking. Atsushi had a choice to join the Armed Detective Agency in the same way Akutagawa had a choice in joining the Port Mafia. What is a starving, lonely kid to do?

"He just never talks about you. I've asked him so much about the Port Mafia, and he always makes fun of everyone," Atsushi rocks back and forth on his heels to warm up, or out of nervousness, Aktuagawa can’t tell. "I actually know a lot about Nakahara-san. I think Dazai-san looks back on him as the best part of the mafia. He's always talking about that short guy with the terrible fashion sense, but I think that's just his way of showing that it wasn't all bad. He obviously has a lot of respect for the scary redhead lady who stabbed me over Kyouka-chan."

"Ozaki-san" Akutagawa doesn't know why he offers her name, but at least his vocal chords haven't been severed by Atsushi's continually devastating observational skills.

"Yeah... but apart from fighting styles and abilities, Dazai-san won't share a single story about you,"

Akutagawa shouldn't be surprised by this. He know's hes thinking irrationally. Dazai left him and never once looked back. The catastrophic effect Dazai had on his life was merely a blip in his mentor's radar, an unteachable student with no potential. It's a thought that passes by his consciousness frequently, one that he dares not dwell on for too long.

"I think he's ashamed"

The words linger in the air. Atsushi is gripping the railing with enough force that his nail beds have turned white. It dawns on Akutagawa that Atsushi is waiting for something dire to happen, for Akutagawa’s rage to boil over and ruin the moments they’ve spent together the past week, the past missions as well. He simmers it down inside instead.

Atsushi continues. “I don’t know what he did to you, really. But I think it messed you up pretty bad. And you didn’t deserve it.”

Akutagawa feels like he’s been punched in the chest again, like the tiger’s claws are digging into his flesh and pulling his skin away, opening his ribcage for the world to see. It reminds him once again about how Atsushi just seems to understand how to use his words to have the most devastating effect.

“Who cares what people deserve? Life’s not fair anyway. We all get fucked over one way or another.”

“No. It was worse for you. And you didn’t deserve it.” Akutagawa keeps his eyes on the horizon. He doesn’t dare look at the weretiger. “I think whatever you’re hoping for from Dazai-san, you’re never going to get it.” The anger is there again, deep, deep in the pit of his stomach, but he let’s Atsushi continue. “You spend all your time thinking about whether or not Dazai-san approves of you, but do you ever think if you need it?”

He's not so lacking in self awareness that he doesn't know how pathetically sad he is for hopelessly chasing the approval of a man who cast him aside without a second thought, but he finds he can't even stop himself anymore. Does Atsushi know that he just feels so lost all the time without Dazai, that he wants the attention because no one ever gave him any before Dazai picked him up. He doesn’t know how to function without his single minded goal, and that that goal is so conceptual for a reason. He doesn’t know anything beyond pain and suffering, wouldn’t know how to search for anything but what he already knows. What he does know is that it hurts, but the hurt is better than nothing at all.

And so. He lashes out. Because lashing out is what he does best.

“What do you know? You know nothing of my time in the Port Mafia, nothing about beforehand, yet you make sweeping statements that make no sense at all.”

“Come on, Akutagawa, we’ve been through too much together for you to act like this now. I know, I’m probably the only person who knows.”

And Akutagawa hates it. Hates that Dazai’s new student is so similar to him, except better in every way. He hates it, hates, hates, hates it more than he can ever put into words. Atsushi sees through him as if he’s made of glass. The last week doesn’t matter, they are still competing, and Akutagawa wants some approximation of what Atsushi has so bad. He wants to learn to cook curry, and be praised by an upstanding president. He wants to be relied on, and wants to rely on someone in turn, but it’s impossible for him. There's no way Akutagawa could ever be accepted into anything like normal society.

So, for now until he dies, he will settle for Dazai, and Dazai wants him to be partnered with Atsushi.

He spins his head fast to look at Atsushi. Atsushi flinches away sharply, but still has that look of fierce determination in his eye.

“You don’t know anything about me. We work well together, weretiger, but don't think too hard about it.” The words feel hollow even as he says them. He knows there’s something different about Atsushi, that Atsushi sees something in him that no one else can, but the thought scares Akutagawa more than anything has before. He wonders if Atsushi sees the same thing Dazai did. It seems unfair to disappoint Atsushi like he disappointed Dazai, so he will keep it buried.

Atsushi looks exasperated, and worse still, he looks tired. “Whatever you say, Akutagawa. I’m gonna head back. I’ll see you in there. And you better come back and say goodbye to Mariko-chan.”

As Atsushi walks away from him, Akutagawa feels like he’s failed all over again. Like he’s missing something big, and needs to reconcile, something between him and Atsushi. But he doesn’t know what.

So he stands on the top of the roof to the Detective Agency, and instead thinks about the girl eating yakisoba with them, and hopes her rescue from Suribachi will go better than his did. He quickly changes out of borrowed clothing into his own before folding it and placing it near the exit to the roof. Summoning Rashomon in seriousness, he takes his leave.