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Chances of survival during the coldest days, coldest months even, are slim to none. Winter was an everlasting tempest, a mistress that resorts to guiles to entice others to join her side. An absolute barbaric season, which is saying something considering the level of barbarism that Akutagawa endorses and takes part in on a near-daily basis.
When the world only revolved around survival and surviving, taking Gin's hand and running through the maze alleys, dodging and weaving against antagonists was the norm. On the colder days, as the children like him and his sister slept in futile hope with meager blankets that barely kept warm, Akutagawa would often hold his sister against his chest as they slept quietly, the snow teasing them. Gin was always the stronger of the two when it came to the physical, yet she was also his younger sister. Combine with a desperate attempt of a clothed fort using Rashomon and the slightly warmer Gin against his chest, they would both sleep as peacefully as the world can offer, as their situation dictates it. Perhaps they should count themselves lucky to be able to wake the next day, surrounded by frozen bodies of their comrades and similar associates.
But now the world revolves around Port Mafia.
The days of huddled warmth and despondent days are tenous. A shadow of a life once held. However, like shadows, they will appear again in bright light.
—
The side of the mountain is treacherous, packed with icicle-covered trees and slippery pathways as Akutagawa and Atsushi run for their lives, both low on energy, strength and overall morales. It was supposed to be a simple mission, of course: capture the ability user that's set to detonate a special-grade bomb that can alter the fabric of reality. With that being said, it was supposed to be an Armed Detective Agency-only mission. Except with the truce between Port Mafia and the Armed Detective Agency meant that Dazai could use whatever weapons he had in his arsenal... He decided that this mission was perfect for another team-building exercise. Akutagawa, along with Atsushi, vehemently denied working together again, even for the sake of another earth-shattering consequence.
"I'll praise you, Akutagawa."
"Hold up, wa—"
"I accept."
"... You can't just... Dazai, you're teasing him."
Said simple mission turned sideways when they trekked up the mountain and realized that the ability user had the ability to create and control ice and snow. Hence why the bomb was placed on top of a mountain some islands away from Yokohama, where the heavens touched the top of the mountain, creating an icy palace. When Atsushi and Akutagawa both reached the palace, excluding the different times that they've almost killed each other despite Akutagawa promising otherwise, the ability user started to attack, a barrage of giant ice shards coming from all directions as the wind pushes harder and the snow fell harder.
They were able to break the machine that set off the bomb but at the cost. So now they ran down the slippery slopes of rock, ice and snow as branches stuck out to stop them all the while dodging the hordes of ice shards that seem to have a mind of their own as they followed them down the path. Atsushi, that damn were-tiger, is yelling something but Akutagawa pays no mind. With barely any winter-resistant clothing save for boots and a thicker scarf, Rashomon breaks through the ice shards like glass.
"Akutagawa, look out!"
The size of nearly a small glacier appears above Akutagawa's head and before Rashomon can form its protective barrier, he feels his entire body veering left as Atsushi pushes him out of the way, the stony and slippery path, breaking into smaller slabs and boulders of rocks. They travel along with the snowball of ice, rocks and bits and pieces of broken-off branches until they land in a pile of snow that reaches about six feet. The ability user laughs, echoing across the empty plain of snow as the snowstorm grows more violent and loud. Akutagawa barely digs himself out, using Rashomon as a makeshift pair of gloves until he reaches Atsushi, who lies near listless in the pile of snow.
"Hey, weretiger," Akutagawa coughs. "Wake up."
No noise. Akutagawa tries again, as harshly as he can and shoves the body harder.
"Dammit weretiger, you better wake up or else—"
Atsushi groans, coughing before shivering in his tattered winter coat. He reaches to his shoulders, loudly clacking his teeth as the wind whips around them, pushing more snow into their vision. Akutagawa looks over and sees a dark indentation in the side of the mountain where they feel. It takes a moment as he drags his feet through the snow, with Rashomon wrapped tightly around the weretiger's waist as a makeshift harness but they are able to set foot on more even ground. There's a moment of relief once Akutagawa realizes that it's a small cave and marches forward, ignoring his numbed fingers and prickling sensation of his toes.
Once inside this blessed haven, Akutagawa summons Rashomon and moves the larger boulders of rock towards the entrance, creating a type of barrier against the harsh winds and snows as it blew harder. It seems that Atsushi had read his mind as he summons up his tiger ability, his arms and legs immediately transforming themselves, and pushes the other boulders in the cave towards the makeshift barrier. Atsushi then pulls back as Akutagawa finishes and, using his own scarf as tinder for the flames, uses his claws to dig against rocks to form sparks. When Akutagawa finished with the barricade, save for a large gap at the top, he turns back around to Atsushi building more of the flames by rubbing two rocks on top of the small fire on his scarf.
"There's no wood, idiot."
"I know, idiot. But we can't go out there and search for wood that'll be dry enough for the fire anyway," Atsushi turns back at him, eyes glaring.
"Unless you're offering, of course."
Akutagawa glares back, a twitch in his faint eyebrows but says nothing and turns back around, staring angrily at the rocky barricade. His hand twitch, still numbing and he crosses his arms over his chest, ignoring the immediate warmth he feels despite the wetness on his coat. The fire behind him grows warmer and warmer and it beckons to Akutagawa, who turns slightly to see how exactly it's growing bigger. He watches in bewilderment as Atsushi starts to strip off some of his clothes: the gloves, those stupid suspenders san belt, even his black tie. Atsushi feeds the smaller articles of clothing into the fire, who takes it without judgment and the sparks flicker in the air.
"I'll win if you keep stripping," Akutagawa says.
Atsushi glares back.
"Listen, I'm not gonna throw all my clothes in but I can handle the cold better than you can."
"What did you say?!"
Atsushi points at the purple-tipped fingers as Aktuagawa sneers, quickly moving his fingers out of sight of the weretiger. Akutagawa mutters another murder threat and rather than it taking its usual effect, Atsushi sighs loudly, his hands on his hips as he puts on his coat again, however tattered that it appeared. He slips down, knees on the ground with one hand in his lap and another gesturing Akutagawa to take a seat.
"Just! Just sit down."
Akutagawa purposely looks away, even as he feels the warmth of the fire burning and filling their space with warmth. Still, he walks over and carefully finds himself sitting on the floor, a space between him and Atsushi, with his legs bent and knees facing out, his own arms moving to cup the opposite elbows. For a moment, the space between them is filled with the heat of the burning clothes with light flares in the air as the wind blows past the hole on top of the barricade, bringing few snowflakes in. Akutagawa, for lack of a better word, is thoroughly exhausted. His entire being is slowly being frozen over, with the makeshift fire trying its very best to slow down the freezing process. His fingers dig tighter and tighter into his arms, as though he can draw blood from his clothes. Even if he were to use Rashomon, his ability was not heat-generating.
Suddenly, he watches as Atsushi stands up, stripping his tattered coat and placing it in the space between the two. Akutagawa glances up, eyes undisturbed as Atsushi stares down at him, his brows furrowed with a thin line on his face. Akutagawa can feel his own eyes narrowing.
"Don't die."
Before any retort can come out of his mouth, Atsushi's arms and legs instantaneously transform, becoming his tiger counterpart. He jumps on the barricade and bounces from rock to rock before dashing out into the small gap above. Akutagawa notes that by the time he jumped out, a good portion of Atsushi's body had already manifested into his tiger ability. Something settled unevenly in his stomach and Akutagawa coughed in both hands, watching the small puffs of cold air as it hits and dissipates into water normally. He looked over to the tattered coat and sneered at how neatly it was folded.
Bastard probably wants me to wear it. His nose wrinkled. I refuse to accept your pity, weretiger.
The fear of the dark is one of the rational fears to have. Humans are not built to see into the dark, to see what lies so close to the shadows of the creatures hunted and will be hunted. Akutagawa, however, does not share this rational fear. The dark is where he's learned to live, where the dark alleys provided broken shelters in the form of boxes and dumpsters, where night called him for favors in exchange for foods for him and Gin. Darkness is a long-time friend, even as he lays quietly in the darkness.
Except for something warm that touches his shoulder. It moves to his head before moving toward his cheek. It's so warm, is what the darkness says in his mind. But his eyes twitch, struggling to open. He can hear voices.
"...were just... asleep... my coat...."
The voice ebbs and flows in and out of his ears, his mind. Because the darkness is familiar, even if it's unusually warm. Still, he finds the strength to open his eyes, even if it takes all the energy he has, and sees a dark blob against a brightly red, flickering background. His eyes shut back down, his hand twitching, even his mind is sluggish as he tries to conjure up Rashomon. There are rustling noises in the background, his ears carrying the majority of his senses and something heavy engulfs him. His body warms up almost immediately and Akutagawa curls more, a soft sigh escaping his mouth.
It is warm and quiet. The darkness has never felt so...kind.
—
Akutagawa barely wakes up to an unfamiliar darkness, something that sets alarms off in his mind. There are gentle gusts of wind that blows above them, bringing with them fragile flakes of snow. His mind is only just awakening but something besides him moves closer to his arms. A memory flashed into his mind, of him and Gin running away from a failed robbery attempt at a nearby bakery and his heart pangs hard. Oh right, we failed... His own arms reach out, pulling the body closer to him. Gin is.. Gin is probably cold and sad, right now. Akutagawa, against the frigid air and in this unfamiliar darkness, pulls Gin closer to his chest, burying his face in her hair.
He allows sleep to call him, his eyes drooping, and smiles as arms clutch at his shirt, pulling him closer. Rashomon wraps herself around the pair, keeping the warmth nestled in between the two. Having many failed attempts at stealing better food was always the norm as well. But one thought said in mind, echoing quietly as though it was scared to be any louder:
Why was Gin's hair completely white?
There are more noises, more distractions and Akutagawa realizes that there are voices. Immediately, he pulls Gin closer to his chest, a survival method that he's honed since the dawn of time. Because if the enemy assumes that there's only him, Gin won't get hurt. That's how he reasons, even as the distinct smell of bergamot tickles his nose. Gin.. never smelled like bergamot. There's some more shuffling in the background and Rashomon tightens around them, his body tensing. Gin curls her fingers against his chest, her nose touching his neck.
I'll protect Gin.
"Akutagawa?"
This.. this voice sounds familiar. Dazai?
"Ah," Dazai chuckles. "Good job, Akutagawa.
There's a pat on his head and Akutagwa relaxes, his arms loosening the tightness but never letting go.
We're saved.
EPILOGUE
Akutagawa is starting to change his views on Dazai. But only slightly. His hands shake as the envelope slips from his hand, drawing the attention of Gin, who was cooking some dinner. In his other hand, he crinkles the photo, eyes wide and angry, a faint blush appearing on his face.
"..Brother?"
Akutagawa whips around, his eyes angry and Gin watches undisturbed. He snaps the photo behind his back, a crick tightening behind his neck. I don't understand what Dazai was thinking of when he sent this! Gin walks to the dropped envelope and slips out a piece of paper. Akutagawa watches in horror. The note reads simply with two words: Good job! Gin glances back to him, her eyes kind and Akutagawa finds his resolve faltering. Slowly, he extends his arm, giving the photo to Gin, who takes it quietly.
The photo shows both him and Atsushi, with Atsushi closely buried against his chest with both the coat and Rashamon acting as blankets. They both sport notable tints of pink, of which Akutagawa chalks up to the frigid cold and in this image, they look like small children. Akutagawa finds himself unable to look at Gin, something creeping up on his back as though someone's watching. When he finally found the courage to look back at Gin, she stared him down, smile nonexistent but a teasing look in her eyes.
Akutagawa scowled.
"Don't—"
Gin paused, slowly handing the photo back, eyes now lighting up but mouth still firm and shut. Akutagawa can feel the tinge of heat on his face, his eyes growing more colder as he glares at Gin.
"Dinner's ready, brother."