Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

"Mom, why do you have black letters on your wrist? " The dark-haired woman sighed and nearly dropped the wooden spatula she was using to stir the sizzling noodles in the pan. Collecting her thoughts, she carefully looked over her shoulder and looked closely at her son, who was intently reading the contents of the book lying in front of him on the dining table. The boy, without taking his eyes off the straight letters, repeated his question. “Oh, Ryu, this means that my soulmate left this world long ago,” turning away from her son, the woman sighed sadly, doubting the correctness of her answer. She thought that, despite the boy's cleverness, at ten years old it was too early to talk about kindred spirits and their subtleties. Usually children are not particularly interested in such things, perceiving it as something strange and incomprehensible, but Ryunosuke has always been special, not like other children. Of course, for all parents, their children are special, unique, but Ryunosuke was completely different. Woman sometimes thought that in the body of fragile boy lived an adult, who could understand how difficult life is.

"You mean father?" At that moment, something tightly squeezed the woman's chest and did not let go. She slowly reached for the stove lever and squeakily turned off the cooked noodle burner. Ryunosuke looked at his mother's lowered shoulders with one eyes and mentally gave himself a few cuffs, which at one time he received from his father for being too rude towards other children.

"No. Your father and I were not related souls.” The woman wearily took a towel, which was hanging alone on the hook, and wiped off the drops of oil splashed during cooking from her hands. The boy finally looked up from the book and looked in bewilderment at his mother's too flat back, furrowing his thin eyebrows. It was not the curiosity inherent in children that was frozen on his face, but a true lack of understanding. After all, the books related to kindred spirits, which Ryunosuke read from cover to cover, said that people destined for each other by fate get married and build a family. Had he read the wrong books?

"But ... how so? I thought ... But why?" Ryunosuke seemed for the first time to find it difficult to find the right words to express his confusion and, to some extent, disappointment. It was as if he was seized by a numbness, something cracked in his head and shattered into small pieces. The boy suddenly realized that everything connected with related souls is a deception, a shameless lie. The woman slowly turned around and looked affectionately at her drooping son, smiling sadly. After all, he was too young for such conversations. Stroking Ryunosuke on the head, the mother took the boy's pale face in her slightly coarse hands and gently stroked his thin cheeks with her thumbs. Ryunosuke calmed down a little and began to breathe more evenly so as not to cause an uninvited coughing fit at this important moment for him. He wanted to hear words from his mother that would calm his raging emotions buzzing with hornets in his chest.

"Dear, this happens very often. We were not related souls, but we loved each other, and it didn't matter to us whose names were on our wrists," the woman gently kissed her son on the forehead and slightly tolerated him on the shoulder, urging him to cheer up a little and not think about sad things anymore.

" But ... then why do we need soulmates, if you can love anyone?" The boy did not stop frowning and searchingly look directly into the eyes of his mother. The woman was unable to maintain eye contact with Ryunosuke for a long time, as those pale gray eyes reminded too much of her broken heart, that these eyes were the only thing left of her beloved.

"I ... I don't know, honey. Probably, it doesn't matter at all," the woman tucked a stray black strand behind her ear with her left hand and imperceptibly looked at the name, which had been painted in a cruel black color for seven long years, although it used to sparkle with a bright yellow tint.

When it darkened, the woman was already married to her late husband, but at that moment she felt something click sharply in her head, and a strange wave of anxiety spread throughout her body. It was a rather unpleasant feeling that lasted literally a few minutes, but the woman still remembers these stinging sensations. That night, she quietly cried, with all her heart sympathizing with her soulmate, whose life ended so suddenly. She even plucked up the courage to apologize for possibly betraying her soulmate. Even though no one existed for her except her husband, she always wished only happiness for her soulmate. Ryunosuke lowered his head, peering at the text of the book, trying to distract himself from bad thoughts, which began to give off a slight headache and incoming coughing urges.

Probably from that moment on, Ryunosuke was finally convinced that everything in this world is far from the way they write in books. He decided for himself that it would not be naive to believe everything that he sees, everything that he hears. And he certainly will never let some fate and a useless name on his wrist decide for him who to love.

***

By the age of fourteen, Ryunosuke Akutagawa reaches a turning point when he stops believing in anything. Mother believed that this period would pass with age, that these were all teenage things, but in her heart she perfectly understood that this, damn it, would never pass. After all, Akutagawa is unusual, completely different.

Akutagawa now recalls with a bitter grin how he had long wanted to learn as much as possible about the connection with soulmates, how, with a serious expression on his face, he absorbed any information that made him dig further. Now it seems so stupid and naive that he sometimes wanted to erase these bad memories in any way. Unfortunately, this was not possible, so Ryunosuke had to put up with a shameful past. Akutagawa shouted with all his appearance that he did not care about matters of the heart and he didn’t care about the bulb whose name would girdle his wrist for his sixteenth birthday. While his classmates waited with trepidation for fate to give them their betrothed, and classmates dreamed of girls from the covers of magazines, Akutagawa was completely uninterested in the plans of this smug fate. Because Ryunosuke stopped believing in fate four years ago.

Akutagawa was too proud to be led by someone who felt they had the right to control his life. This life belongs only to him. Not his mother, not his teachers, not his friends, and even more so not this unfortunate soulmate, who, most likely, will not care about his existence.

Ryunosuke sometimes wondered why all this intrigue with rekated souls and eternal happiness, if you can connect your life with literally any person. Right now, he can approach a classmate, who does not hide the fact that she is breathing unevenly towards Ryunosuke, and suggest that they try to link their lives in order to start a family later. He can do it, but he does not see the point in it at all. He had no desire to let anyone into his life, to let things turn upside down, to set obligations, to give due attention and to take care of someone. Definitely not. He is not ready for this, not even sure that he will ever be ready. Akutagawa considered himself to be a rather selfish person, with his own comfort zone and familiar activities.

At school, Akutagawa did not look for friends or acquaintances. Behind his back, classmates called him strange and mentally abnormal, less often an emo boy and an amoeba. Some girls admired his cold beauty. He was tall and thin, although his weight fluctuated between normal and below normal; a pale face and thin eyebrows gave the appearance of a porcelain doll, and gray eyes resembled a pool of water in which many girls were bogged down; his dark hair looked coarse, but in reality it was no different from normal hair, only slightly gray at the ends. Yes, at the age of fourteen, Akutagawa managed to acquire gray strands, which appeared, by and large, due to his damned illness, provoking stressful situations. Every time he was struck by another fit of coughing, he cursed everything he could, while at the same time praying not to vomit his lungs. In such disgusting moments, he felt terribly exhausted and miserable. He resisted his illness with all his might, tried to stand still, and not bend into three deaths with a new portion of dry cough, which tore his throat; tried in every possible way to suppress seizures and any desire to wheeze with renewed vigor. But he lost miserably every time, only occasionally did he manage to overcome the small waves of hoarseness. He had long come to terms with the fact that the disease would become his eternal companion, so he treated it as a given, as a payment for his rudeness and selfishness.

The main distraction from unpleasant sensations for Akutagawa was study. He decided for himself that the main priority in his life will be study, which will help him in the future to find a good job and gain a foothold in the status of an "accomplished adult." Despite the fact that Akutagawa was quite responsible, he was still perceived as a child with a high sense of maximalism. Although there was no scent of maximalism, he just looked at life soberly and never wore rose-colored glasses. The adults saw him as a young man who wanted to prove to everyone that he deserved something more, that he had no equal, in fact, Ryunosuke wanted to show everyone that he did not need to be coddled and taught about life, to give parting words and advice on how best to do or what to do. Akutagawa could decide for himself what was best for him and what was worse. He remembered his teacher saying that life is learned by comparison, but Akutagawa least of all wanted to equate his life with someone else's. It was low and disrespectful to both your own life and the life of another. Even though he believed that the people around him were too naive and hypocritical, that they were making too grandiose plans, he had nothing to do with them, other people's lives did not bother him; if Akutagawa could handle his life.

Akutagawa studied diligently, always monitored his progress and never got away with even the slightest omission of any information. Everyone in the class knew that Akutagawa was one of the strongest students, but even with the knowledge of this fact, no one dared to approach him and ask for help in solving a difficult problem, or explain any rule in a more accessible language. They did not hesitate to say nasty things about Ryunosuke behind his back, but until their knees trembled, they were afraid to come close to him. All of this was incredibly annoying and angering Akutagawa. One day, he almost knocked one of his classmates with the door in the closet when he literally started throwing mud at Ryunosuke. Akutagawa was in the booth and listened for a long time how insults and ridicule poured out of his filthy mouth in a fountain. At one point, he just got tired of listening to it, and he flung open the booth door with all his might and quite accidentally hit this gossip talker. Akutagawa did not expect that he would punish his classmate in this way, but remained calm and only looked contemptuously at the guy who was grabbing his bruised shoulder and licking his slightly split lip. Another gossip talker stood by the sink and looked dumbfounded from Akutagawa to friend who was sitting on the tiled floor. Ryunosuke hissed loudly enough that they were disgusting and left the toilet. After this incident, they began to shun him more openly than before. But Akutagawa did not care, his goal was to study calmly and not die from an exhausting cough.

Did he have the time and energy to think about some kind of soulmate?

***

"I like you, Akutagawa-kun! Please, let's date!" The girl with determined brown eyes and pink lips compressed into a thin line, tearing her voice, confessed her love to Akutagawa. During all this time, he was confessed in love three times, two girls from his class and one guy from a parallel one. This girl was the fourth in a row. She was a year older than him and was on the student council. She often gave various presentations in their class, was the head of the spring cleaning and helped the lagging students.

“Sorry senpai, but I'm not the one you deserve," Akutagawa bowed, apologizing for his refusal, even though he didn't really think he was doing anything wrong if he really didn't want to date her. But, nevertheless, he tried to respectfully treat people who found the strength to pour out their feelings, even if he was neither cold nor hot from their confessions. He did not want to act cruel at all, so Akutagawa always apologized and tried to reassure those who confessed their feelings to him, because it was enough that he had already broken their hearts.

“A-akutagawa-kun, where did you get it from? We can try, why not?" The girl remained firm, although there were notes of excitement in her voice, and her reddened tips of her ears gave a sign that she was ready for much. Akutagawa took a deep breath, thinking about how to gently tell her that he was not interested in the relationship, but this time all his thoughts led to a dead end. Apparently today was a tough day. Akutagawa did not languish for a long time and chose the most disgusting option for him.

“Don’t you believe in that thing with names on our wrists? You don't have a name yet, do you?" The girl shuddered noticeably and squeezed her left wrist, pulling it to her chest. The expression on her face indicated that she was struggling with doubts and despair, as if she had already signed her own sentence. She averted her gaze and looked anywhere but at Akutagawa. Ryunosuke couldn't tell right away if she was scared or offended by him. But after a moment, she took a determined step forward and placed her trembling hands on Akutagawa's shoulders, squeezing them weakly. Her lips trembled, as if preparing for the inspiring speeches that she pushed to the uncouth first years almost every day.

" I don't know how to explain, but ... Listen! I feel that you are my soulmate! I know it sounds very stupid and outrageously naive, but something tells me that you are destined for me and that I am for you. This is very presumptuous, but why don't we give it a try? Even if your name isn't on my wrist, I won't stop feeling the same way about you. I will not care, because I am sure that, having laid the foundation for our relationship, I will not be able to go back or abandon you!" Her words sound so correct and reassuring that if Akutagawa had not been a selfish realist who had scored on any relationship, he would have agreed to try to get into an affair with her. She was a pretty and pleasant girl who wanted to spend more time with. But she would definitely be unhappy with Akutagawa. He did not know how to take care of someone other than himself and his mother, he was very taciturn and peep, too rude for such an open girl. And the problem was that he wouldn't change for her, even if she was his true soul mate. Ryunosuke understood that his attitude would only ruin her life, it would be better to cut off all hopes now than watch her break through his fault.

“Temari-senpai, I'm sorry, but I can't make you happy. I don't deserve such words. I'm not interested in relationships, my studies come first. Once again, I'm sorry, " Akutagawa exhaled heavily and walked past the girl, leaving her alone with her thoughts and a broken heart. He pretends not to hear the muffled sob escaping her lips.

Akutagawa considered himself as a cruel and merciless person. Only a cruel person can shamelessly destroy other people's hopes by stirring up his life. But Akutagawa, honestly, tried to wish imaginary happiness to everyone who had broken their hearts, and hoped that they would still meet someone who would love them selflessly, regardless of the name on their wrist.

***

After Akutagawa rejected Temari-senpai's confession, he had an unusual dream the next day. He usually spent every night surrounded by white noise or gray interference, but this night was a rare exception. In the unexpected dream, Akutagawa felt relaxed and serene. It seemed to him that he was slowly floating through the air, as if swinging in an invisible hammock. Ryunosuke only felt calm and confident that no one would disturb him. He was not bothered by a painful cough, or envious classmates, or silly talk about pressing problems. Akutagawa did not open his eyes in his sleep, but he definitely saw soft light colors that filled the entire space with an avalanche. A pleasant silence surrounded him, not the one that echoes with the noise of hospital rooms, but soothing, like a cradle. Akutagawa opened his sleepy eyes and saw a faint glow that only caressed the eye. This glow more and more resembled a soft smile, so warm and sincere that every five seconds my heart would stop treacherously. Akutagawa really thought it was a dream, because such a smile could only be a dream. He felt something soft touching his pale cheek; it is definitely someone's palm with long and insanely soft fingers. This palm gently, with small movements, caressed Akutagawa's cheek. Ryunosuke did not understand where such desires came from, but he absolutely without a second thought wanted to touch this insanely tender palm, but he could not, something was holding him back, as if all forces had left Akutagawa's already weak body at once. He quickly gave up and stopped making unsuccessful attempts to touch this ephemeral creature, only took a deep breath and continued to enjoy the calming movements. Akutagawa mentally shied away from his actions and thoughts, but at that moment only the fact that he had not seen anything more beautiful in his life was spinning in his head. Opening his eyes a little wider, Akutagawa noticed large drops of tears begin to flow very slowly down the silhouette of his blurred face. Hot tears fell heavily on Akutagawa's face, breaking into thousands of fragments, and painfully warmed him like the scorching sun. He tried to open his mouth to ask this creature about the reason for such unexpected tears, but only faint sighs flew from his lips like a dumb person. With each breath, Akutagawa became more difficult to breathe, he felt anxiety bloom in his chest and hit him in the head with lightning speed, forcing him to finally open his eyes and see how an incomprehensible silhouette smiles at him through cruel tears. He smiles so that he is ready to die right now, as if desperately wants to hide all the pain. Akutagawa's hands are still heavy and motionless, and his legs seem to be stuffed with old cotton wool. The silhouette, noticing Akutagawa's attempts to move in any way, removed his hand from his wet cheek. Akutagawa immediately felt cold and empty. The words that were filled with anxiety and bitterness reached him too clearly:

“I don’t remember your name. Please, tell me. I've lost it forever! "

Akutagawa wanted, without hesitation, to shout out his name with all his might, just to feel this warm touch again, to feel selfish again, but he failed. His voice was lost like his children's toys, he was mute, like a fish, only silently opening and closing his mouth. Akutagawa was covered with such incomprehensible despair that he wanted to tear and throw everything around, but he was surrounded by a pressing emptiness. There were no longer any light soft tones, there were only empty colorless paints, the disgusting gray color that he saw every time he looked into the cracked mirror. A wild desire woke up in him once again to see this soft smile, to feel this gentle touch, to hear this beautiful voice.

Waking up half an hour before the alarm clock, Akutagawa realized that he was slowly going crazy. The strange sensations still seethed in my chest, causing a flurry of deep breaths and exhalations. These unusual paintings are so vividly impressed in the mind that it was easy to confuse reality with dream. Ryunosuke felt warmth slowly spread down his cheek, and a warm smile again blossomed in front of his eyes. Akutagawa got out of bed and made his way to the bathroom as quietly as possible, latching the door. He turns on the faucet too abruptly, so the water hitting the bottom of the sink splattered a little on Akutagawa's shirt. After adjusting the faucet, Ryunosuke began to violently wash his face with cold water. Everything seemed so real that he felt a little scared for himself. Smoothing down his tousled hair, Akutagawa turned off the faucet and stared into the mirror in front of him. No, he was fine, it doesn't look like he's going crazy. Contrary to popular belief that crazy people deny that they're crazy, Akutagawa could confidently say that he was as schizophrenic as the moon and back. It's just a bad dream that blurred the line between dream and reality too clearly. In medicine, such phenomena seem to be called "sleep paralysis." Ryunosuke was just overworked this week, so he dreamed of all sorts of nonsense. Akutagawa did not believe in such tricks as communication through dreams and the like, so he perceived what happened as delirium of his tired mind. Although deep in his soul, he remembered for a long time how someone's warm palm touched his cheek.

***

A month before the inevitable sixteen years of Akutagawa, an event occurred that to some extent shook up the life of an introverted boy, disrupted his usual routine and, in some way, made changes in his worldview. The beginning of a radical change in Ryunosuke's life was a fatal meeting with the amazing Dazai-senpai. Their meeting seemed to Akutagawa rather strange, but unforgettable. It happened when Akutagawa decided to try his luck to dine on the roof all alone, because under the watchful gaze of his classmates, it was not that a piece was in his throat that his appetite flew away to distant lands at the speed of a wounded gazelle. Every time Akutagawa wanted to look on the roof, there were either high school students looking at porn magazines, or the girls whispering about theirs. But today, luck seemed to be on his side, giving Akutagawa a quiet lunch break in the company of his beloved. Sitting on a bench near the door to the pantry, Akutagawa was about to open the food box when he suddenly heard someone humming nearby. Hearing only snippets of a strange song, Ryunosuke resigned himself to the fact that his uncomplicated plans flew into the trash, he was about to leave the roof and look for another place to eat. Only he could not get up, something nailed him to the bench. Akutagawa involuntarily began to listen to the uncomplicated chant. Surprisingly, he was somehow hooked for no reason by a rather pleasant motive of an uncomplicated song and a melodic voice. In Akutagawa, unpleasant controversy suddenly raged. He did not want to spy on someone singing, it was absolutely none of his business, and, in general, he had not noticed a craving for music before. But, on the other hand, some kind of inexplicable anxiety spread throughout the body and paralyzed like anesthesia. Having weighed all the pros and cons, Akutagawa decided that he would just glance at the singer's grief, and then immediately run like a bullet to his class, leaving behind the intended meal. With a thud, placing his lunchbox on the bench, Akutagawa cautiously walked towards the sound of flowing chanting. Upon reaching the source of the sound, Ryunosuke hid behind large boxes that had been lying on the roof for over three years. Akutagawa slowly peered out from behind the bulky boxes, fixing his gaze on the young man, who was walking along the edge of the roof and humming merrily to himself, balancing with one completely bandaged hands:

“Death, catch me soon, I could fall from the bright moon. I'm not a jester and not a king, Let the pain to broke my wing! "

Akutagawa stared in bewilderment at the too happy young man who wanted to jump off the roof. Ryunosuke was a little taken aback by such a picture, he had never faced such a case in his life. He had never seen people going to commit suicide. Akutagawa had no idea what to do in situations like this. Suddenly he will scare the would-be suicide, if he suddenly comes out of his hiding place, then that oud will definitely fall, and that's it, write it’s gone. But Akutagawa did not dare to leave him like that, although such a thought flashed through his head as a sinful deed. Still, it was too late to leave; if he dies, then the death of this strange guy, to some extent, will hang on his conscience. The devil pulled him to come to the roof today and shamelessly spy on someone. Out of impotence, Akutagawa wanted to bang his head against these old boxes, but changed his mind as he didn't want to make a lot of noise. Ryunosuke felt extremely disgusting, the last thing he wanted to be in a similar situation. Taking responsibility for someone else's life is definitely not Akutagawa's credo. Ryunosuke mentally gave himself fifty cuffs for his reckless curiosity and desire to dine on the roof today, but what's done is done. Nerves were naughty, palms were sweating, and legs were barely trembling. Akutagawa swore under his breath several times and made what was probably the most absurd, most illogical decision in his life. He started singing along to that kamikaze guy. Yes, Akutagawa Ryunosuke, a quiet youth and a terrible connoisseur of calm, began to clumsily hum a stupid song about fucking suicide. His voice was much rougher than that of the brown-haired man, who hung by a thread, or rather on the last note, from death. He tried to be in time with someone else's voice. Akutagawa only managed to sing two lines when the voice on the other side dropped sharply. Ryunosuke swallowed, but ended the song's only verse in an almost trembling, hoarse voice. He did not understand what was happening to him, but he was sure that for a moment he was enveloped in fear. Akutagawa put his hands on the boxes and tilted his head even more, making pitiful attempts to better hide and remain unnoticed. But after a few seconds, someone lightly patted him on the shoulder, forcing him to his feet. Having got out of hiding, Akutagawa was able to get a better look at the one who a minute ago wanted to jump from the roof into the arms of death. He was very tall and thin, the very first thing Akutagawa noted. Perhaps he was looking in this person for something in common with him, something that could make him related to this madman, because the longer Ryunosuke looked at him, the more difficult it was to look away. It was as if this young man was not human at all, he was such a strange, prominent aspect of routine life. Akutagawa couldn't figure out what had hooked him so hard. For the first time, he wanted to know a lot more about a stranger than just ask his name. The stranger's fox eyes enveloped Akutagawa in steel chains, forcing him to stand motionless like a tree. The brunet smiled conspiratorially, straightening a strand of strand that was naughty sticking to his cheek with his bandaged hand, and laughed lightly, touched by Akutagawa's dumbfounded look. Ryunosuke stared at him for too long and couldn't figure out what was behind that carefree smile, because his brown eyes never smiled.

“Your methods are too strange to save someone from suicide,” the brunette patted Akutagawa on the head in order to bring him to his senses at least a little and return to the reality of what was happening.

Akutagawa's reaction was immediate, he straightened too abruptly and opened his mouth to say anything, but his brain refused to come up with anything reasonable and logical. Ryunosuke just stood there and blinked often, trying to force himself to get out a word.

" I..em, well .. I.."

" Well, let's get acquainted, my name is Dazai Osamu," Dazai sang, holding out in front of him his hand for a handshake.

***

Dazai-senpai was amazing.

Akutagawa wasn't even sure if he could be called human, because ordinary people just couldn't be that amazing. Dazai is very smart and reasonable, with him Akutagawa felt at times more comfortable than at home with a book in his hands. Dazai-senpai could read people without much effort, as soon as he looked at Akutagawa, he immediately gave out phrases such as “Are you moping again? What is this time?" or " You are much more cheerful today, this is the Eighth Wonder of the World," and the like. Akutagawa did not notice how he began to intersect with the lanky genius more often and spend all his free time in his company. After two weeks of communication, Akutagawa could confidently say that he had met a person whose company did not bother him, but only made him look for new topics to continue the conversation with enthusiasm. It was a pleasure to talk to Dazai-senpai. Frankly, sometimes Akutagawa found it difficult to understand him. He often spoke in riddles and deliberately confused Ryunosuke, forcing him to grab the poor kohai's head from time to time. Dazai-senpai seemed to enjoy Akutagawa wrestling with his brains, even though outwardly he showed no signs. Akutagawa and Dazai often spent time in the library. Akutagawa almost always pretended to read or try to understand a difficult topic in mathematics; in fact, Ryunosuke couldn't take his eyes off Dazai-senpai. He was fascinated by the way a high school student unobtrusively straightened the bandages on his thin neck, how he wrote words that were not related to each other in calligraphic handwriting, how he sometimes screwed up his eyes, trying to find invisible moles on his pale hands, how he smiled slyly when he caught the gaze of an embarrassed Akutagawa. Ryunosuke realized too quickly that he was somehow strangely obsessed with his senpai. He wanted to spend every free second with him, with barely concealed impatience awaited the end of the lessons in order to quickly meet with Dazai on the already familiar and beloved roof, instantly answering calls and messages if he saw Dazai's name flashing possessively on the screen. With him he felt comfortable, felt the very calm that surrounded him in that strange dream. Next to the senpai, he forgot about the opposite cough that was tearing his throat to the bone, about evil and hypocritical classmates, about arrogant teachers who were only looking for an excuse to poke Akutagawa into his shortcomings. For the first time in a long time, he felt a little happier, perhaps a little more, what, of course, could not be ignored. Ryunosuke unhurriedly made an eerily infantile decision that he would cling to this amazing person who brought new colors into his life to the last. For the first time in a long time, he was able to see colors other than gray.

His morbid, or even sick, obsession sometimes frightened Akutagawa himself. He wanted to know more about senpai, wanted to get even closer to the mysterious suicide. With all his being, Akutagawa wanted Dazai-senpai to see him as something more than just a silent kohai. Akutagawa stopped hiding his adoring looks and unobtrusive touches, but Dazai only grinned at such displays of sympathy on the part of the youngster and deliberately pretended not to guess anything. Although he understood everything perfectly. At such moments, the restless inner voice of Akutagawa insistently shouted that Dazai was still a bastard, even Ryunosuke was not so cruel to those who unrequitedly fell in love with him. Senpai, in his favorite manner, veiledly mocked every confession, first instilling hope in timid souls, and then mercilessly ripping out helpless hearts by the roots. Then Akutagawa realized that he was not such a cruel person as he always considered himself to be.

The most brutal and amaizing was Dazai-senpai.

Akutagawa was not a fool, much less a coward. If someone had told him earlier that one routine day he would be irrevocably stupid in love with his senpai and, like a schoolgirl from novels, who would look away only when she met the object of her adoration, he would have laughed contemptuously in that person's face, giving him a bitter, crooked smile. But right now, he sits quietly, not daring to move, and watches as Dazai-senpai quietly snores at the table opposite him, folding his thin hands in front of him and hiding his face in them. Akutagawa with the last bit of strength restrains himself so as not to touch the murderously soft hair of the brunette and not to straighten the tangled dark strands. Akutagawa closely examines the hunched figure, noting that even in his sleep, Dazai-senpai looks outrageously amazing and mysterious. Ryunosuke inadvertently fixed his gaze on the sleeper's left wrist, which was wrapped in more than one layer of snow-white bandages. Akutagawa wondered anxiously about whose name was written on his wrist, whether the senpai knew his soul mate, whether he was ever going to look for the one who was destined for him by goddamn fate. An unpleasant feeling settled in Akutagawa's chest, eating painful lungs, making it difficult to breathe. Dazai never spoke to Akutagawa on this subject, but had a rough idea of his train of thought. But with such an amazing person, you cannot be sure of anything. Dazai never said directly what he thought about this soulmate game. Ryunosuke unbuttoned the top buttons of his shirt, releasing the pressure on his neck. Akutagawa tried to drive away the unwelcome anxiety, as he assured himself for the hundredth time that he did not care about this nonsense with related souls and true couples. Yes, it’s utter nonsense for him, but what if it matters to Dazai-senpai? It was not just that he hid his hands under bandages, it is unlikely that the reason lay only in the desire to hide his scars. It wasn't much, but it bothered Akutagawa, even if it was difficult for him to admit it.

There was a week left until his sixteenth birthday.

"Akutagawa-kun, do you already know the name of your soul mate?" Dazai asked, pulling the dark-haired kid away from cleaning the classroom.

Today it was Akutagawa and another student's turn to clean up the classroom, but that same student deliberately left home after school, leaving all work in Ryunosuka. The teacher just shrugged his shoulders indifferently, they say, get out as you want, but by tomorrow everything should be clean. Akutagawa clearly did not like this alignment, but, fortunately, as moral support, Dazai-senpai decided to keep him company.

Akutagawa froze, mop in hand, watching the sempai seated at the teacher's table, who grimly looked at Ryunosuke. Akutagawa shivered a little at this look, it seemed that he was a guilty student, and Dazai was a strict teacher.

“No, not yet,” Akutagawa looked away and proceeded to chaotically sweep the floor, throwing away the garbage he'd been collecting for so long. Ryunosuke swallowed, he didn't recognize his own voice when he answered senpai. It seemed to him that Dazai had knocked all the confidence out of him.

"You're Lucky one. My soul mate hates me with all his heart,” Dazai twirled the broken handle in his hand, then threw it on the floor closer to Akutagawa, adding more garbage.

Akutagawa was confused and frowned upon hearing such a frank confession. Dazai directly told Akutagawa that he knew his soul mate, which, in fact, shattered all Ryunosuke's hopes. Dazai was smiling sweetly at that moment, but Akutagawa understood that real chaos reigned in the soul of the would-be suicide. This smile was far from sweet and kind, filled with pure despair and helplessness.

"I see ..." Akutagawa was not a psychologist, he did not know how to listen to the confession of pain, but the cry of Dazai's soul was so simple that even Akutagawa was filled with sympathy for this amazing person.

To the amazing man he was hopelessly in love.

Akutagawa did not notice how Dazai-senpai got up from the table and almost came close to him, drilling with no less gloomy eyes. Ryunosuke knew without words that Dazai was in a bad mood right now, so he didn't dare to raise his eyes and look directly at the senpai's face. Dazai too unexpectedly touched the neck of Akutagawa, who managed to sweat from the thrilling closeness, thereby effortlessly subduing the boy to his will. Akutagawa slowly raised his head, letting go of the old mop that had fallen dully to the floor, and glared at Dazai's carefree but predatory smile. This smile was Dazai's best smile, because every time it knocked the earth out from under Akutagawa's feet and turned him into a limp doll. This smile certainly shouted: "You are in my complete power."

“You don’t care what fate says, isn't it? "

Dazai-senpai is amazing non-human. Amazing non-human with the softest lips.

***
The week before Akutagawa's sixteenth birthday was the best of his life.

Each new day made Akutagawa feel happier than the previous one. He couldn't believe that this wasn't just another dream, his sick fantasy. He could finally call Dazai-senpai his own. At night, he would remember with trepidation how Dazai-senpai would give him soft smiles, pat him on the head, and buy hot chocolate in the cafeteria. Hot chocolate became Akutagawa's favorite drink.

He remembers how Dazai-senpai held his hand in the library while no one was looking, how he let him sleep on his shoulder during a rooftop break; he remembers, confusedly, how Dazai-senpai kissed him imperiously in the stuffy toilet cubicles, how he squeezed him in demanding hugs until his spine crunched, and felt under his jacket with his hands, tracing every curve of his fragile body. Dazai-senpai allowed him to bury his hands in his insanely soft hair, allowed him to kiss his cheek while he lay on the bench on the same roof, allowed him to hug him from behind and rub his head between his shoulder blades in search of comfort. Dazai-senpai sometimes acted coldly with Akutagawa, forcing the boy to look for flaws in himself and make attempts to correct himself, although in fact he was not guilty of anything. Dazai could completely ignore Ryunosuke for a whole day, baffling the dark-haired man, and the next day he could hold him imperiously and bite his pale lips again. Despite their strange relationship, Akutagawa was happy with everything; it was lucky for him that Dazai-senpai had chosen him over the soul mate destined for him.

Akutagawa cherished every minute he spent with Dazai, desperately grasping at every opportunity to be as close to him as possible. He wanted to live in the world that Dazai lived in, wanted to be a part of his amazing world. Akutagawa didn't care that Dazai had his soulmate's name on his left wrist, and he didn't care that it wasn't his name that glittered on senpai's narrow wrist. And he definitely won't stop loving Dazai when he gets a name that doesn't mean anything on his own wrist.

On his sixteenth birthday, Akutagawa's wrist is framed by an beautiful name in equally beautiful handwriting. A name that doesn't mean anything to Akutagawa.

Neither the next day, nor the next two, does Akutagawa dare to show Dazai his wrist, either fearing something incomprehensible, or not finding it necessary. Dazai-senpai also wasn't interested, although he knew perfectly well that Akutagawa's birthday is long gone. Dazai then gave Akutagawa a stuffed toy that looked like a black dragon. This gift was more perceived by Akutagawa as a mockery than a desire to make hin happier. But Ryunosuke was still grateful to senpai, he was simply happy to the toy from the usual slot machine, which he decided to call Rashomon and placed on the shelf above the his desk.

Akutagawa was secretly afraid that the name on his wrist would somehow affect him, make him doubt his feelings for the adored senpai, but nothing like this happened in a day or a week.. Even after a month, Akutagawa still saw the presence of a soul mate as a waste of time, a stupid formality of a stupid fate. Perhaps Ryunosuke could now say with certainty that no fate would prevent him from making his choice.

He believed it so hopelessly.

***

"I'm sorry, kid, but I'm tired of this circus.

Those were the last words Akutagawa heard from Dazai-senpai as he disappeared through the heavy gates with his high school diploma, leaving his school years behind. Cruel words from the murderously amazing Dazai. Giving Akutagawa an equally cruel smile, he mercilessly erased the past from his life. Leaving Akutagawa in this past.

Perhaps Akutagawa had long suspected that Dazai-senpai was just shamelessly using him as a consolation toy, as a doll to take full advantage of, burning out his hair and piercing his melon eyes with needles. He suppressed the pain that he hid deep in his terribly difficult heart; he shared this pain, wanting to throw it off a little on the submissive, loving fool. Akutagawa just didn't want to believe it, because for the first time, he loved the careless senpai too much, so much that he sometimes hated it. Akutagawa hated Dazai for a lot of things: the way Dazai had trampled him into the dirt more than once, the biting smiles, the selfishness, and the bloody bitten lips that made his mother think thst Akutagawa was being beaten up at school. Akutagwa knew that Dazai was doing this on purpose, but he couldn't stop looking at him with delight. Ryunosuke wallowed in this bittersweet pool, refusing to think straight, valuing every little thing and believing that he did not need more. Dazai-senpai almost always openly showed his disdain for Ryunosuke, causing much more pain over the past year with constant humiliation and ridicule and outright indifference. Akutagawa continued to believe that this was a temporary phenomenon, that it could transform into something more familiar and peaceful. Ryunosuke only now realized how much he was wrong, how outrageously pathetic he looked when he looked at Dazai with adoration, and Dazai inwardly mocked him. How foolishly he had hoped that Dazai would be able to love him in spite of his heartless fate, in spite of the cursed name on his bandaged wrist. Akutagawa couldn't understand what had gone wrong in their lives, what had happened to their happiness? Did they have this happiness? Or was everything doomed to fail from the very beginning? It turned out that all this time, only Akutagawa could say that he was a little bit, but he was really happy, selfishly imagining that Dazai-senpai loved him, that he could love him.Only Akutagawa enjoyed it when Dazai-senpai kissed him, when they secretly held hands, when they bought new books and spent their free time on the roof, periodically falling asleep on each other's lap. It was hard for Akutagawa to accept that this was all a pathetic game that Dazai had once again won. He knew from the start that he was going to win.

Now Akutagawa is sitting on his ruined bed, clutching Rasemon in his hands, nervously biting his lower lip and trying to find the strength and pride not to cry. He does not want to feel sorry for himself, because he considers himself guilty of such an outcome. He doesn't want to cry for Dazai, he doesn't want to sink any lower in his eyes. Ryunosuke forces himself to remember the moment when things went downhill, when Dazai-senpai started mocking him too openly. Akutagawa frowns his stubby brows, squeezes the unfortunate toy until his fingers ache, and tries hard not to scream at the top of his voice. A sickening lump rose in my throat. He feels like a thing that has been squeezed out of everything that could be squeezed out, that was thrown away when there was nothing left of him, when there was nothing left to squeeze out. Akutagawa, on the other hand, had long ago decided that he didn't need any ridiculous love, so why did he fall for this damned bait, when he so fiercely despised everything related to relationships, when he clumsily broke the hearts of everyone he could, when he cursed fate and its blind game of kindred spirits.

If Ryunosuke had already made up his mind, then why was he crying now?

Silent, cold tears ran down his pale, haggard face, and his fingers were barely squeezing Rasemon, and he was about to fall soundlessly to the floor. These quiet tears were louder than any hysterical crying.

Dazai did not find the strength and desire to love Akutagawa, because, despite everything, he was attached to his real soulmate named "Chuuya", which glowed a fiery red color on his wrist under the snow-white bandages.

Why do we need soulmates? To break people's hearts to hell, to uproot hope for the future, to ultimately leave them with nothing. At that moment, Akutagawa hated everything around him. He hated himself for falling in love so stupidly, hated Dazai for using him so blatantly all this time, hated the whole damn world with its bloody game of fate.

Akutagawa gripped his left wrist fiercely with his sharp fingers, leaving red prints, baring his teeth and clenching them until they gnashed, he furiously pulled up his sleeve, ripping off the small buttons, and stared at the name with a look of disgust that irritated him more with each heavy breath.

"I hate it... I hate you, you fucking Atsushi!" Akutagawa practically howled, a dry cough that tore at his aching heart.

***

It took Akutagawa six long years to glue his heart together and hide it from prying eyes again. School years left an unpleasant bittersweet aftertaste. Akutagawa was used to never regretting anything in his life, so he decided to take all the raw blows for granted, as tests that made him a little stronger. At least, he thought so, relying on himself and his resilience. Akutagawa stopped cursing fate for her manipulations, left behind cooled feelings for an amazing non-human, threw Rashomon in the trash and tried to pacify his anger towards his potential soul mate. Thoughts about the past only pulled him down to the very bottom, Akutagawa least of all wanted to be on a rotten bottom. If he wants to move forward, then he must bury everything that prevents him from living the way he wants. Akutagawa sometimes recalls how he heaped curses at a man named "Atsushi" during his one existence, how he mentally planned to kill him, how he wanted to see his suffering and agony in agony. At some point, he realized that he was acting very recklessly and only harming his mental health and not only. Although it took a long time, Ryunosuke was able to overcome his anger, replacing it with sticky indifference. His current state was close to emotional burnout, Akutagawa understood this perfectly, but the desire to become an independent and successful person as soon as possible did not allow him to turn into a houseplant, which needed nothing but key sources of existence.

Ryunosuke Akutagawa graduated from high school with good results, opening the door to a promising future. Choosing a university, he settled on options that were more related to programming. The school was behind, the time has come to rise to the next step and not deviate from the set goal. Having prioritized, Akutagawa wanted to start over what had been unforgivably destroyed by the end of school.

He wanted to start his life from scratch.

***

Looking for a new apartment, closer to the university and cheaper, you can go crazy, because it is almost impossible. You either live on the outskirts and pay the price within the normal range, or serenely in ten minutes, slowly, reach the university, but every month you pay a tidy sum for the amenities provided. But Akutagawa was stubborn, no, rather stubborn, and continued to search for the eighth wonder of the world in the person of a cheap apartment located within walking distance from the university. Akutagawa was not fastidious, a one-room apartment with minimal additional amenities was enough for him, but he was not eager to move into unwashed closets either. Therefore, Akutagawa had a hard time finding a suitable apartment.

The first two years of study at the university, he lived not far from the place of study, but, to put it mildly, in terrible conditions: cockroaches ruled under the bed, and mice were quietly dancing in the kitchen. Unfortunately, there was only enough money for such a sharaga. At first Akutagawa tried to get a cat, but, apparently, the mice got such that they themselves wore out the unfortunate pet, because after a week it was gone. Another big drawback was the constant dampness, which provoked Akutagawa's cough, making him almost choke from the incoming spasms. Ryunosuke only lasted for two years, firstly, he was no longer going to live in such conditions, and, secondly, the hostess became so insolent that she raised the price for this hole, which she cannot call an apartment.

As soon as Akutagawa left this awfull place with great pleasure, he immediately began to look for another place of residence. But his search was not crowned with success, for a week he could not find a suitable option. Akutagawa had to temporarily live with his classmate, whose parents left the city for a month for work, but Ryunosuke could not afford to stay as a guest for a long time, since his parents would come sooner or later, and he lives here like a parasite.

Fortunately, after a couple of days one acquaintance, naturally, not disinterestedly, helped Akutagawa find the most optimal housing option. For his help in writing practical in computer science, he was ready to do anything to cover this debt, which threatens to drop the scholarship. This acquaintance found a two-room apartment, which was a fifteen-minute walk to the university, was tempting but suspiciously cheap. Akutagawa was initially taken aback, because he was sure that, for a minute, two-room apartments could not be rented out at such a low price. A friend, smiling slyly, said that such a nice looking price is possible if you rent an apartment together, and not alone. At that moment, Akutagawa realized exactly what he had hit.

Having no place to live, enough money and having lost a lot of nerves, wandering from one apartment to another, Akutagawa involuntarily agreed to share an apartment with some freshman, who, it turns out, urgently needed a neighbor so that he would not be kicked out into the street due to lack of the ability to pay for the apartment yourself. The owner went to meet him and gave him time to look for someone who would agree to live with him and pay half the cost. As the fans of Monopoly say: "It's business, baby."

The offer really turned out to be quite profitable. Paying exactly half the cost of housing, Akutagawa figured that he could finally stop saving on food and some medications, although after two years he had become accustomed to neglecting these aspects. His future neighbor, according to that same acquaintance, was quite a quiet and benevolent person; he studied at the Faculty of Foreign Languages, but often spends time in the computer and mathematical wing, visiting his comrades. There he was an acquaintance and met this guy when a freshman had just started posting ads in the hope of finding a neighbor. In short, according to the stories of a friend, Ryunosuke does not even know grief, living with him under the same roof. Akutagawa would like to take his word for it, but something tells him that something else will happen. At least for a while, this alignment of events will come down, until Akutagawa finds something simpler. Most of all, he was delighted that this apartment seemed to have a stationary computer, and Akutagawa would not have to constantly sit at a laptop, huddled over a coffee table.

Before Akutagawa could blink an eye, the day came when, with a suitcase in his hand, he climbed the stairs to the seventh floor, reaching this unfortunate apartment at number "21". Ryunosuke, already on the fourth floor, regretted not taking the elevator, but looking around the cabin with dubiously creaking cables, he nevertheless decided that he would walk on foot. It was difficult to admit, but Akutagawa was a little nervous before the upcoming meeting with a new neighbor, because before that he rarely had to share a roof over his head with someone, due to his complex nature, a lot of acquaintances were ruined. Even though Ryunosuke was not at all chasing to be the soul of the company, he needed to learn to communicate normally with people, without ending every conversation with the expression "how tired of you I am." When Akutagawa came to inspect the apartment, he never crossed paths with his potential neighbor, only a couple of times passed his supposed room, in which real chaos reigned. Most likely, he also recently moved, so there were small boxes in each corner. Resigned to the fact that he might have to live with a slob, Akutagawa reluctantly entered into an agreement with the landlord and received a slightly shabby key with a keychain in the form of a smiley in his hands. How childish.

Reaching the ill-fated seventh floor, Akutagawa set the suitcase down with a thud, restoring his breath; he wondered how he hadn’t yet been coughing while he was getting up. Taking a breath, Akutagawa pulled the key out of his pocket and, without looking through the keyhole, inserted it into the door. After trying to twist, Akutagawa noticed that the key did not give in, but only rests halfway through and refuses to move on. Ryunosuke already thought that he was mistaken in the apartment, but after looking at the door and its location, he was convinced that it was, so to speak, in the right place. Akutagawa frowned and took out the key to examine its carvings to make sure it was not broken. Turning this shenanigans over the lock and key a couple more times, Ryunosuke angrily pulled the doorknob and nearly fell, grabbing the mailbox. To Akutagawa's surprise, the door was open all this time, did his negligent neighbor not even bother to close the door behind him? Sighing in annoyance, Akutagawa dragged his suitcase with him and entered the apartment, this time locking the front door. Ryunosuke saw that there were street shoes in front of the entrance, which he had not seen the last time. So this fool came home and did not close the door behind him. Great, the height of irresponsibility and carelessness.

Taking off his outdoor shoes, Akutagawa accidentally brushed his elbow against the umbrella-cane, which was standing near a small nightstand. The short banging of the umbrella on the floor was followed by a dull noise from the other end of the apartment, as if someone had been so robust. A moment later, a young man with ash hair literally jumped out of the back room, all disheveled and crumpled, as if he had come out of a snuffbox. Most likely, he was asleep and was frightened by the small noise that Akutagawa made. How did he hear how umbrella falls? Is he an animal to react to the slightest rustle that way. Smoothing the protruding hair, the young man, unsteady step, walked closer to Akutagawa, slightly pursing his lips.

The boy was slightly shorter than his height and had a rather strange haircut. With excitement, he began to shift from foot to foot, taking aside his eyes, which shimmered either yellow or purple. Smoothing the folds on the pale blue jacket, the young man reached out with his right hand and smiled softly at Akutagawa.

"Hello, you are, I suppose, my flatmate? Akutagawa caught his gaze on the outstretched hand and noticed that it was shaking slightly. Either he is worried, or he was frightened by the formidable appearance of Akutagawa, there is no other way. Ryunosuke calmed down his ardor, deciding to postpone the moralizing lessons about closing the doors before going to bed for later, and responded to the handshake by grasping his trembling palm weightlessly. The ash-haired one has a very soft and tender palm, Akutagawa even got goosebumps from the velvet touch.

“Yes, I'm Akutagawa Ryunosuke, glad to meet you,” Akutagawa slowly unclenched his hand and released his slightly sweaty palm from his grip. After this casual touch, Akutagawa's palm did not stop tingling strangely, as if his hand had become numb, and after a few movements, the blood flow resumed.

" Mutually! My name is Nakajima Atsushi, I hope we get along, - the ash-haired clapped his hands loudly, completely shaking off the remnants of his former excitement and only smiled wider.

Nakajima Atsushi. Nakajima. Atsushi. Atsushi ... damn it, ATSUSHI.

At that moment, a real mess of disgusting sounds of tearing paper and a buzzing siren spun in Akutagawa's head, in the backyard of consciousness someone persistently beat a hammer on an iron pipe, plunging Akutagawa into a deafening pool. Ryunosuke's eyes involuntarily, too sharply widened, the pupils began to twitch convulsively, and his teeth almost chattered against each other, either from the sudden coldness, or from seething sensations all over his body. Akutagawa opened his mouth slightly and, hardly breathing, glared at the boy standing in front of him.

It just couldn't be true, it isn't true. It's all nonsense, randomness, disgusting coincidence, but not what Ryunosuke thinks about. The stomach was twisting to pain, and a bitter taste of bile came up to my throat, making me want to vomit as soon as possible. Akutagawa's legs have become wadded, just a little more, and he feels how soon he will fall with a blunt stone. His hands suddenly became the heaviest and heaviest, all he could do was to bend and unbend his fingers in torn, feeling them crunch. At this moment, more than anything in the world, he wanted to sink into the ground, disappear forever from this worthless life.

Atsushi noticed Akutagawa's sudden numbness and looked worriedly into his eyes, trying to find at least something to explain this new acquaintance's behavior. Atsushi wanted to touch Ryunosuke's shoulder, but at the last moment he changed his mind, deciding that carelessness could aggravate the situation. Akutagawa looked, to put it mildly, unimportant, as if he was paralyzed. Atsushi started waving his arms in fright in front of Akutagawa's face, trying to get his attention, because he did not respond to the call of the frightened youth.

"Hey, are you all right? Atsushi asked in a trembling voice, venturing at his own risk to gently take Akutagawa by the shoulders and slowly sit him on the empty bedside table. Akutagawa, like a weak-willed doll, succumbed to careful pressure and now looked at one point, practically showing no signs of life, without even blinking. Atsushi touched his soft palm to Akutagawa's sweaty forehead and placed his other hand weightlessly on the stunned Ryunosuke's chest. Noticing that Akutagawa was breathing raggedly, holding his breath for a split second every other time, Atsushi rushed into the depths of the apartment, with something rattling. He quickly came back with a glass filled with water and grabbed Ryunosuke's right hand, putting a cool vessel in it, but not daring to let go, fearing that he would unclench his fingers and drop the glass.

“Akutagawa, can you hear me? Drink, this is plain water, come on," Atsushi squeaked his last words plaintively, slowly pressing the cool glass to Akutagawa's pale lips. Ryunosuke exhaled once more and nearly dropped the glass when a slight spasm went all over his body, bringing him out of his daze. Blinking often, Akutagawa looked at Atsushi from head to toe in confusion, still not believing in what was happening, perceiving everything as a bad dream bordering on reality. He feels déjà vu. Clearing his throat, Akutagawa grips the glass of water tighter and sips a little, wincing at the sobering coolness. He breathed deeply, trying to clean himself up a little, brushing off painful memories.

" How are you? You scared me so much .. Maybe i should call an ambulance?" Atsushi took the package from the hanger and took out a folder - a tablet, which he began to actively fan Akutagawa, forming a cold stream of air.

"No ... no, I ... I'm just overtired. It happens sometimes, ” Akutagawa lied. Seriously, he can't just, for no reason at all, say literally to the first person he meets: “Hey, I'm so sickly that your fucking name is on my damn wrist! Be so kind as to fall into the fog and get lost there forever! "

In fact, Akutagawa understood perfectly well that a frightened clumsy boy was not to blame for anything, this is Ryunosuke's unusual trigger for everything related to soul mates and other shit. But this situation simply knocked the ground out from under his feet, rigidly blocking oxygen. It can't be that frighteningly simple and insanely difficult at the same time, can it? Why is this bastard - fate so mercilessly mocks him every time? It just can't be true, it must be a gross mistake - a disgusting mistake of goddamn fate.

Is it so?

***

Although Akutagawa was never lucky, he did not consider himself a complete failure either. Fortune very rarely smiled at him in his life; he was not a fatalist, so he did not attach much importance to words such as "luck" or "chance." Akutagawa believed that his future was only in his own hands. A couple of times, of course, he won the lottery, where the main prize was a discount on one or another completely useless product in the store, which, in fact, handed out these unfortunate lotteries as a bonus for a large purchase. Akutagawa just lazily scraped the silver-tinted cards with a rusty coin and indifferently threw them on the floor, not even really looking at what was hidden behind a thin layer. When he was finishing his anti-stress therapy, he began to collect the cards scattered on the floor and only then looked out of the corner of his eye at what he was picking crookedly. One time he got a discount on a manicure set, and another on cranberry juice. Akutagawa hated cranberry juice. It is not difficult to guess that all this "very necessary" waste paper flew straight into the trash can.

Right now, he wants to be in that same trash can and not get out of there until the end of his days.

Akutagawa is sitting at the kitchen table, gripping a mug too tightly, and with a heavy gaze drills his neighbor, who is sitting opposite and nervously leafing through some barely living textbook. The boy, with all his gut, feels the fierce aura of Akutagawa, but tries not to show it, squeezing out a wry smile. Atsushi rereads the same paragraph for the fifth time, but cannot grasp its essence. His eyes were already starting to twitch from the tension in the kitchen.

About two months have passed since their not very successful meeting. Atsushi had already made it to Akutagawa's list of potential irritants by simply asking about Ryunosuke's well-being. Nakajima kept on going and every morning after waking up and meeting in the hallway he asked how Akutagawa was feeling and if he needed anything. For the first two days, Akutagawa tried to understand the neighbor's anxiety and was patient with the boy's excessive care, but after another couple of days his limit was exhausted. Ryunosuke answered another question about his well-being, something like - “Your obsession only brings me closer to death. You're annoying. " Akutagawa put it mildly, because the harder words were prepared in his head. After this incident, Nakajima became more careful with Ryunosuke, realizing that he was difficult one.

Atsushi, in fact, was a quiet and calm young man, but terribly awkward and too correct. Not only did he manage to forget to lock the front door two more times in a week and safely leave the keys in the keyhole. Take it - I don't want to. As you know, Akutagawa is not one of the patient, if something does not suit him, he speaks about it directly in the forehead without any preludes. Ryunosuke only threatened the irresponsible muddler: "Once again, leave the door open, i will put the combination lock on the door and won't tell you the password, and you will never enter here again." A sharp look and a murderous tone were enough to make Atsushi more alert.

Needless to say, after that Nakajima began checking the door a hundred times?

Nakajima was good-natured and outrageously naive and stupid. Akutagawa had already managed more than once to ridicule his impulses to help everyone and everything, as he ran to help, as soon as some idler called Atsushi with a new request. Every time Akutagawa looked at such pictures with a grain of disgust, noting to himself that his neighbor was so stupid that he did not notice how he was insolently used. Although Ryunosuke cared about how and how Nakajima lived, he was simply pissed off by almost everything connected with him. They were too different: what Atsushi did - his actions, habits - was perceived by Akutagawa as something foreign and incomprehensible. He did not understand his train of thought, because he himself had never done something like that. Akutagawa was almost never interested in what his acquaintances lived, even during the greeting he did not ask the flared "how are you?" ; he didn’t talk or laugh into the phone when he talked with his acquaintances, didn’t make appointments just to spend time in someone’s company; he didn’t get up in the early hours just to feed the stray kittens or to finish the homework that he didn’t have time to do in the evening, because he always had time. All of the above unconditionally described Nakajima. He is not used to comparing his life with others, but in this situation he simply cannot note how different they are and they cannot have anything in common. Over time, Akutagawa became disgusted even to compare himself with his neighbor. Subconsciously, Ryunosuke understood why he was initially so hostile towards Nakajima, there was no need to even think about it. But after a while, he realized that even if he had a different name on his wrist, he still didn't get along with this annoying boy.

Akutagawa's tea has already cooled down and has ceased to warm the palm, but at the moment he is not worried about this. No matter how difficult it was to admit it, over the past two weeks he was extremely worried about one small detail, such a ridiculous inconsistency. If Atsushi, who is sitting right now opposite him and nervously folding the corners of the yellow pages, is his ... soulmate - from such thoughts, Akutagawa even had a twist in his stomach - then why did Nakajima not react when he heard his New roommate's name? Was there someone else's name hidden on his wrist? Or he is simply too good at hiding the fact that he may have met the long-awaited Ryunosuke and is simply mocking him. Or does he doubt that in front of him is the Ryunosuke who, no matter how sickening it may sound, is destined for him by this very old fate? Akutagawa's name is quite popular, and you can often find people with the same name; he has already met two by himself. Maybe this is really just a coincidence?

Akutagawa the other day, purely by chance, learned the right spelling of Nakajima's name: once Ryunosuke went into the kitchen and noticed a lonely notebook on the kitchen table, which the blond-haired man forgot to take, hastily getting ready for an early couple. He just made sure once again that his name exactly matches. Hell, a tiny hope lodged in his heart for a second.

Akutagawa tried to get a good look at Nakajima's wrist a couple of times as they sat at the table in the kitchen or had small conversations that from time to time ended in not very pleasant arguments. But Atsushi mostly wore clothes with long sleeves, only a couple of times did Akutagawa notice the boy was wearing loose T-shirts and shirts with three-quarter sleeves. But no matter how hard Ryunosuke tried, he couldn't see what was written on the pale wrist. Without attaching much importance to this, Akutagawa gave up playing detective and continued to indulge himself with the thought that his obsessive paranoia would subside over time.

Even so, Akutagawa still couldn't quite understand why Nakajima was acting so at ease around him. Akutagawa reminds himself for the umpteenth time that he doesn’t care about these machinations, if the boy himself doesn’t show it, then it’s even better. Or was his neighbor really an annoying accident? Just a stupid coincidence?

“Not bad,” Akutagawa breathed out with his lips, hypnotizing an old dark stain on the table that was mercilessly absorbed into the wood. Atsushi lifted his head and glanced at the gloomy youth, biting his lower lip excitedly. He was accustomed to occasionally hearing from Akutagawa involuntary short phrases taken out of context. At first, Atsushi thought that Ryunosuke was addressing him, but after a couple of irritated glances, he tried to ignore such "thoughts out loud." True, at times he couldn't ignore it, because hearing the voice of a neighbor more than three times a day was almost a new point.

“Listen, I'll be late tonight, so don't cook for me, " Nakajima closed his unfortunate textbook rather abruptly, unable to withstand the oppressive atmosphere. Atsushi leaned back slightly in his chair and clasped his hands too tightly in the lock, fingering with his thumbs.

Despite their relatively difficult relationship, Akutagawa and Nakajima have learned to get along well together. Dealing with Akutagawa turned out to be much easier than Atsushi had anticipated. The agreement consisted in some general duties and rules: no one enters someone else's room without permission, Atsushi was responsible for washing the corridor and kitchen floors and washing, and Akutagawa was responsible for the dust and cleanliness of dishes, if they ate together. With cooking, things were more complicated, since Atsushi, without stopping the impulses of a benevolent person, always cooked for two, if he came earlier, and left Akutagawa the finished food in the microwave. Although Ryunosuke was a little uncomfortable, he had to admit to himself that such antics, to some extent, made him remember how, at one time, his mother cooked him a delicious dinner after a hard day at school. But Akutagawa felt extremely uncomfortable, as if he was taking advantage of the fact that "Mr. Kind Soul" simply cannot find a switch in himself that is responsible for the unconditioned reflex of caring for others. Ryunosuke once asked him for what purpose he was doing this, because he could not remember ever having cooked for Atsushi or anything like that. Nakajima simply replied in a casual way —“If you come back late, then you are tired and hungry. Why bother myself once again if I can do it? "

Akutagawa, for some reason, was not surprised when he heard this, mentally noticing that he was quite expecting such an answer. After several such incidents, Akutagawa said that he could also cook for Nakazhima's share if he was late and Ryunosuke himself decided to kill the worm. Atsushi then in bewilderment clapped his big eyes, barely restraining a stupid smile. He tried to keep a restrained smile and decided to accept such a charming offer that Atsushi had never expected to hear from his stern neighbor. Sometimes, behind such everyday problems, Akutagawa for a moment forgot about the name, which chilled his inner side of the wrist.

"Okay. You go again to the freeloaders?" Akutagawa tried to sound as indifferent as possible, hiding a share of interest, since Nakajima usually very rarely stayed up late, preferring to solve all problems as quickly as possible.

"Well .. Not really," Atsushi hesitated and looked away, straightening the loose sleeves of his white shirt. Akutagawa raised a pale eyebrow inquiringly, continuing to glare at the nervous boy. "My friend has a birthday today, and she invited me to a cafe with friends.

" That's how it is," Akutagawa chuckled shortly. He sometimes forgot that Atsushi is an ordinary student who is not alien to spending his free time with friends. Despite the fact that Akutagawa was also, for a moment, an ordinary student, he considered himself, to put it mildly, a little different from everyone else. In his opinion, people like, for example, Nakajima are much more common than individuals like him.

"Would you like to come with us? I'm sure no one will mind, ” Nakajima, with some hope in his voice, expected that Akutagawa would squirm a little, but would agree to go with him, finally getting out of captivity.

“Definitely not,” Akutagawa made it clear in his harsh tone that you shouldn't even try to persuade him, he will still remain adamant. He was not interested in such a pastime, and Nakajima knew it, but he continued to cherish the hope that the ice will crack someday. But Atsushi realized that Akutagawa was unlikely to make contact so quickly, so he sighed slightly in frustration and left the table, taking a book with him and pushing back the creaky chair. Akutagawa watched him as he left the kitchen. After a while, he heard the front door slamming in the corridor.

After Atsushi left, the apartment became completely quiet. When Nakajima was at home, there was at least some presence, despite the fact that he was quite quiet; from time to time one could hear the rustle of paper and, like a cat, smooth steps in the next room. Akutagawa noted that the blond bungler gradually became, as unusual as it sounded, a habitual irritant. Something like a scar that aches a lot at first, and then calms down and occasionally gives off a dull pain, a simple reminder of past difficulties. Ryunosuke thought that he could easily get used to Nakajima if everything went on as usual, without any questions or regrets. As if they were originally strangers to each other, without any silly doubts and unpleasant assumptions.

***

When the doorbell rang around midnight, Akutagawa almost jumped out of his seat. He was sitting at the computer and was intently moving the mouse in search of one of the lost documents, but he was thrown out of the rut by an unexpected ringing, which brought him out of a kind of trance. Akutagawa took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger, listening, as he thought that he was beginning to hear strange sounds from fatigue. But the bell rang again, longer than the last time. Akutagawa rose wearily from his chair, stretching his stiff back and arms. As he approached the door, the first thing he did was look through the peephole, and when he saw the ashen top of the head, he turned on the light, unlocking the door as he did so. It seemed strange to him that Nakajima was ringing the doorbell, even though he clearly remembered that Nakajima had locked himself in with his own keys when he left. Had he lost them again? Akutagawa, for some reason, wasn't surprised.

Opening the door, Ryunosuke was about to start scolding Nakajima for his absent-mindedness, but he stopped in time when he saw more than one Atsushi in front of him. Standing in front of him was a petite girl with large blue eyes and a rather serious expression, her blue-black hair slightly out of its low ponytails due to the fact that the prostrate Nakajima was leaning sideways on her. The girl tried to hold him as tightly as possible, literally clinging to the arm slung over her shoulder. Atsushi himself could barely keep his eyes open, his legs constantly threatening to let him down and send him on a short flight to the ground; his face was playing with the storm of emotions inherent in a person who wanted to sleep, and they persistently tried to wake him up. As soon as Akutagawa opened the door a little wider, the foul smell of alcohol hit him right in the nose. He grimaced and looked Nakajima up and down in exasperation.

"I'm sorry to bother you at this hour, but Atsushi-kun had a little too much to drink, so he couldn't get home on his own, " the girl had a doll – like voice, so cold and smooth, it seemed like it wasn't a human being at all. Akutagawa noticed that it was a little hard for her to hold her drunken friend, so he grabbed him by the scruff of the neck too abruptly and leaned him against the door frame, holding him by the shoulders so that he wouldn't fall to the floor.

"Are you alone?" Akutagawa asked, watching as the girl straightened her slightly disheveled hair and rumpled skirt. It was hard for him to believe that there wasn't a single male member in their company who was clearly bigger and stronger than this child. And the time was late, to wander alone to a girl with a drunken friend is a dubious occupation. Akutagawa considered calling her a taxi and going to bed in peace.

"Not really, someone wil Come to pick me up," the little girl said coldly, as if she could read his thoughts. Akutagawa nodded to her, dryly thanking her for delivering the deranged neighbor, and hauled in Nakajima, who was barely moving his legs. Atsushi was anywhere but in the apartment with Akutagawa. No matter how much Ryunosuke yelled at him, it was useless. The alcohol was so strong on Atsushi that he couldn't even get a word out of himself, spitting out only inarticulate sounds and some incomprehensible complaints. Akutagawa first tried to give him a drink of plain water, but he only staggered from side to side and did not understand what was being asked of him. Rather angry, the tired Akutagwa dragged Nakajima into the bath and began to wash him thoroughly with ice water; Akutagawa continued to hold him by the collar like a helpless kitten, furiously rubbing cold water into the face of a troubled drunk.

"What kind of cafe did you have to go to to get so drunk? After finishing the water treatment, Akutagawa irritably yanked the towel off the pipe and began casually wiping Atsushi's face, which was gradually turning pink from the intense friction.

"But I.. I didn't meant to," Atsushi muttered sleepily, grabbing the wall for support as Akutagawa stopped holding him.

"Yeah, you didn't want to, of course. Lie to your girlfriend, but not to me. Move, " Akutagawa abruptly yanked the staggering boy, throwing his arm over his shoulder, and dragged him into Nakajima's room. Akutagawa had never been in his room, only passing by to see how disordered his room was. He only vaguely remembered that Nakajima's room always had the curtains drawn, so it was much brighter than Akutagawa's. Kicking at the door, it swung open and thudded against the wall. Fumbling for the light switch, Ryunosuke turned on the light, noting that the room was much cleaner this time. On the table, books are neatly stacked in a small pile, various figures that look like children's toys are arranged in an even row on the shelves; next to the table, there was a bed, slightly narrower than Akutagawa's, but quite suitable for sleeping. Ryunosuke threw back the blanket in one motion and laid Nakajima on the bed. Atsushi tried to get up again, but a persistent hand pushed him back; well, as it did, Atsushi was so sluggish that a light pressure on his chest was enough to send him tumbling back onto the pillow. With a snort of displeasure, Akutagawa covered him with a blanket and started to leave, but he was grabbed by his left wrist, weakly squeezing and pulling in different directions."

" Wait.. Wh..Why does everyone has one, and... I don't? " Atsushi was babbling incoherently, but for the third time, Akutagawa could make out some fragments of the words. Ryunosuke had heard that a lot of people like to talk about things when they're drinking, but hearing it and encountering it are two different things. Akutagawa could not understand what Nakajima meant, his words sounded like ordinary drunken nonsense. Ryunosuke gently released his hand from the weak grip, releasing the cold fingers that made the skin on his left wrist tingle uncomfortably. Atsushi's hand fell back on the blanket, palm up. Akutagawa only now realized that he had been touching Nakajima's left arm all this time when he was getting out of the weak grip.

"This..this is un.. unfair..," after muttering these words, Atsushi finally quieted down and sniffed softly, slightly wrinkling his nose like a child. An unpleasant lump of excitement formed in Akutagawa's chest and spread violently throughout his body. He was overcome by conflicting feelings: on the one hand, he wants to get out of this room and go to bed, to banish unwanted thoughts, and on the other, he is overcome by the temptation to finally convince himself of his obsession, to remove the shackles that only dragged him down. Whatever the outcome. If his terrible assumptions were confirmed right now, he would find another place to live, no matter what; he would never set foot in this place again. If it turned out to be a stupid accident, he could calmly exhale and scold Nakajima tomorrow morning for today's incident.

Akutagawa stood motionless, nervously clenching his hands into a fist, and for a long time he did not dare to do what he had planned. It was so simple and so difficult at the same time. What it costs him to just look at Nakajima's wrist and read the name that glows there. Most of all, Akutagawa didn't want his name on it. But why? If his name is still there, then he can just end it once and for all, cut off all ties with Atsushi and never see him again.

But he still doesn't want his freaking name on Atsushi's wrist.

"Because I don't want to end up like this".

Akutagawa carefully sat down on the edge of the bed, at the sleeper's feet, and placed his hand next to Nakajima's left hand. The little buttons on his sleeve were asking him to undo them, but Ryunosuke was just mesmerizing the other man's wrist with his eyes. After another five minutes, he began to carefully undo the buttons on his cuff, his fingers barely touching the delicate skin. Akutagawa carefully rolled up his sleeve just above the middle of his forearm, deliberately keeping his gaze down, delaying the painful moment of truth. Atsushi had been lying still all this time and had not reacted in any way to such actions, which was to Akutagawa's advantage, literally and figuratively. Taking a deep breath, Ryunosuke carefully cupped the soft palm, unconsciously pressing closer to the back, and lifted it up to get a better look. Akutagawa took another deep breath and slowly lowered his head, fixing his gaze on wrist, feeling the excitement and shame spread more strongly throughout his body.

What he saw was much more terrifying than he had expected.