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The only thing better than being alive, Atsushi thinks as he stretches luxuriously, feeling groggy and refreshed, is napping in the sun.

Atsushi rolls a little, only to meet open air. Stomach dropping, Atsushi reaches to catch himself on his tree branch. Instead of beautiful ivory claws, Atsushi is met with human hands and blunt, useless nails, too small to regain purchase on his napping spot. He scrabbles fruitlessly at the bark of the tree for half a second before he plummets to the merciless ground. 

Groaning in annoyance rather than pain, Atsushi does his best to finish his glorious stretch from earlier, but is ultimately thwarted by his unexpected uprooting. Huffing, Atsushi plucks himself from the ground. He had been thinking it was time to change, but Atsushi wishes it hadn’t been in a tree. He had spent all week napping in that lovely grassy knoll by the pond, but of course his body decided that now is the best time. 

Though Atsushi supposed that this means those nasty smelling men in black from before have stopped poking around his territory. He lets out a satisfied hum. All good tigers protect their territories, and Atsushi is the best tiger. 

The underbrush rustles and in a split second, Atsushi decides that he is hungry. He pounced forward, taking the rabbit snuffling around by surprise. He kills it quickly and digs his fangs greedily into the sweet meat. Rabbit is his favorite.

“My my,” comes a voice, much, much too close to Atsushi for comfort. Just as he’s about to spring back and snarl, something brushes against his skin and everything around Atsushi becomes so terribly muted he gets a little nauseous. “So you’re the one who’s been causing all the fuss.”

——

Atsushi doesn’t remember much from Before. 

Cold. His memory supplies on the rare moments he ponders it. Dark. Painful. 

Admittedly, the haze over his recollections was allowed to linger by Atsushi himself, if only so that he could enjoy his life now. 

(Blood seeping out on the concrete floor. Frantic breaths and shaking fingers. Cold and hunger passing as feelings instead of sensations as his foot throbs. He’s going to die here. He’s going to bleed out. He’s going to starve. He’s going to shrivel up from dehydration. He’s going to—)

All that isn’t murky is waking up as a tiger alone in a forest. 

There was panic, initially. Atsushi paced around, letting out panicked puffs of air and half growls. He probably would have gone back and forth for hours more, if his exhaustion hadn’t taken him to the ground by force. He woke up once more as a tiger hours later, and had been forced to sit down and reconsider. 

Anything is better than before, Atsushi reasoned. Even being a tiger. 

He spent weeks nervously padding around the forest he woke up in. He was uneasy about… hunting… especially since Atsuzhi had no idea how to start a fire or if he even could as a tiger. But it was resolved easily enough when he found himself hungry.

Atsushi felt he was really getting the hang of being a tiger, especially as the top predator in his forest. So naturally, Atsushi found himself as human again. 

It was slightly disorienting, but Atsushi had been human before being a tiger, so it was really no big deal. 

Then it happened again. And again. And again. Then he woke up as a strange mix of both that felt weirdly right. 

I am a tiger, Atsushi reasoned, tail flicking along the surface of his sun warmed rock. He scratches idly at his abdomen, slightly disgruntled by the bluntness of his human finger nails. But I’m also human. I am both, so it’s fine if I’m a mix of both sometimes. 

Atsushi found that with this new revelation he could be even more at ease than before. At times he could go several moon cycles as a tiger, only to yawn after a nap and find tiny teeth instead of dangerous fangs and pale skin instead of fur. There was no rhyme or reason to it, and Atsushi himself only got vague prickles when his body felt it was time to change. 

Everything was better than anything that Atsushi could have experienced Before. He had food in abundance, water in excess, and no enemies strong enough to hurt him. He was a good tiger, the best tiger. 

——

The man with the hands that kept him in his human form tugged him to a place of concrete and automobiles. He fiddles around with the door for a minute before opening the door for Atsushi. Astounded, Atsushi crawls in.

Atsushi hadn’t seen a car in forever, much less been inside of one. The seats were firm but soft and the very air consisted of cold drafts.

Atsushi prodded the interior of the car, inraptured with it’s smooth texture. 

“You sit tight here, okay Tiger-kun?” The man loomed somewhat threateningly, fingers twitching on the black car door. “Don’t do anything bad.”

Atsushi nodded solemnly. He would never mess up a car. It was too pretty, too nice. The cool material of the seats was pleasant on his skin and the concept of riding in a car was too tempting to surpass. 

The man smiled widely and closed the car door with a dull thump. He took a few steps away from the car and pulled out a little black thing— phone, his memory whispered— and held it to his ear. Atsushi watched in fascination as he talked into it and someone seemed to respond. Scowling a little at his poor hearing, Atsushi tilted his head to hear better. His tiger ears flapped open on his head, instantly picking up the tail end of the man’s statement. 

“—my fault you didn’t solve it Kunikida-kun. I was just in the right place at the right time.”

The responding voice was somewhat tinny and rather loud for being on a phone. 

“RIGHT PLACE MY ASS, DAZAI! YOU’D BETTER GET BACK TO WORK AND FINISH YOUR PAPERWORK AND THE REPORT FOR THIS CASE, YOU DAMN—”

The voice cut off and the man put the phone back in his pocket. He climbed back into the car with a smile that reminded Atsushi of a wolf baring its teeth. 

“Right then, Tiger-kun. Let’s go.”

——

The man took him to a gleaming city with buildings taller than every tree in Atsushi’s territory. 

The man keeps his fingers circled around his wrist, preventing Atsushi from wandering or shifting. Atsushi trots along behind him, too busy craning his neck up, up, up at the tall structures of gleaming metal and glass to really care. 

He is brought to a lovely red building that isn’t as tall or shiny as the other ones, but smells oddly nice. Inside the smell is stronger, but the man bypasses the bottom floor for sliding doors. 

An… elevator?

Atsushi bounces on his toes in delight. A car and an elevator on the same day. Following the man was one of the most exciting things to happen to Atsushi. 

They go all the way to the top floor, and Atsushi wishes that the building was even taller. As it were, he still perches near a window for the best view of the people moving about on the concrete below. 

“Tiger-kun.” The man calls. Atsushi huffs by way of acknowledgement and doesn’t turn. 

“Dazai-san, what… who is he? Is… is that blood? On his mouth?”

Atsushi flicks his tail in annoyance. It’s obvious he’s a tiger. This is why he ignored the humans in the building in favor of the ones outside.

“Wow, is he one of those catboy things you told me about, Dazai-san?”

Atsushi twitches. He’s seen cats, okay. They’re small and fuzzy and grumpy, and while they may be a little cute, Atsushi is not a cat. Maybe close to one, but not. A. Cat. 

“I’m a tiger, ” he calls balefully, finally pulling his eyes from the scurrying of the crowds below. 

Five humans stare back at him curiously. Atsushi’s tiger ears tell him the one who said that is the boy near the potted plants. He smiles widely at Atsushi, like that and his bright yellow hair will be enough to save him from Atsushi’s ire. 

“Oh? You can speak, Tiger-kun?” The man asked bemusedly, as if it never occurred to him that Atsushi could. 

“You didn’t think to ask?” A boy with orangish hair asked worriedly. The man waves off his question. 

Atsushi blinks a few times, looking at him and then looking at the smaller person with long black hair tangled up with him in a blur of limbs.

“Don’t look at Nii-sama that way,” she says to him, baring her teeth. 

Atsushi tilts his head, confused but utterly unaffected by her claim. He’s seen snakes wrap up so tightly you couldn’t tell where one began and the other ended. Maybe that’s what they were trying to do. 

There’s an odd crinkling sound and Atsushi finds himself face to face with sharp green eyes. 

“So this is the Man-Eating Tiger. He’s an Ability user?”

Atsushi wrinkled his nose and made a swipe for the brightly colored plastic in Green boy’s hands. Green boy danced out of the way and behind a desk. Atsushi would have to revisit that later. 

The man laughed. “Yep. Found him in a tree in some forest. Washed up there after a refreshing dip in the river.”

“Then how did you get back?” Orange boy asked. 

“In a car,” Atsushi tells them eagerly. 

“Oh, I thought you looked like you were having fun, Tiger-kun.”

Atsushi nodded. “It was my first time in a car. They’re fast.” He frowns. He’s much, much faster. “Not faster than me though.”

“Of course,” the man says. “You are a tiger after all.” 

Atsushi hums. He is. He’s the best tiger. And the man was obviously the best human. 

“Wait,” Orange boy says slowly. “If you washed up in the forest, how did you get a car?”

——

The man brings him to someone he calls Boss and sits him on the floor. 

“So you’re the tiger.”

Boss is a man with hair nearly as white as Atsushi’s fur. He is coated in green and looks at Atsushi steadily. 

Atsushi flicks his ear in acquittance, pleased that the man isn’t the only smart person in the building. 

“Do you have a name?”

“Nakajima Atsushi,” Atsushi says after a moment’s thought. 

Boss nods. “Alright then, Nakajima-kun.”

“Atsushi.” 

Nakajima is a boring name. ‘Atsushi’ is better. 

“Atsushi,” Boss corrects. “How old are you?”

Atsushi pauses. He… doesn’t know. Time as a tiger passes in seasons and moon cycles and hunting and nap times. It’s not like he counted the days. 

“Definitely not eleven.” Atsushi says finally. 

(Eleven is the age that Before ends on. Atsushi knows this for certain. The Headmaster made sure every year Atsushi lived under his care was verbalized so as to be spat in Atsushi’s face.)

Boss looks at him critically. 

“Do you have any family?”

“No.” Atsushi replies immediately. 

His throat is sore. Usually, talking isn’t something Atsushi participates in regularly. It’s not like the wildlife of his territory would reply. He’s out of practice. 

“Dazai.” Boss calls. The man tilts his head in askance. 

Dazai. Atsushi deems the name acceptable for the man. 

“Do you believe he will be a good fit?”

“No clue.” The man— Dazai— lifts his shoulders and hands in one lazy, graceful move. “I brought him here because he’s a dangerous Ability user on the loose with no protection. The Port Mafia was sure to catch wind of him eventually, if they hadn’t already. Figured it would be better in the long run if we got him first.”

Boss nods. “Very well. Atsushi.”

Atsushi had been stretching out, glancing around to find a good napping spot. He reluctantly returned his attention to Boss. 

“We are the Armed Detective Agency. We protect the city of Yokohama and its inhabitants from both regular threats and Ability users. You are under no obligation to join, but know that dangerous people will be in search of you and that the Agency will protect you if you wish it.”

Atsushi glances at Dazai, out the window at the gleaming city with all the glorious and wretched smells, and at the tempting couch with beams of sunlight falling across it. And thinks that his territory was getting boring anyway. 

“Okay.”

——

Once Atsushi lays down on the Agency couch, he decides that he’s definitely making this place his new territory. He sinks deeply into the soft cradle of the couch cushions and falls into an easy sprawl. 

A few more people come in and out of the building. One of the more notable being a blond man who launched himself at Dazai with loud, angry words spewing from him. Atsushi considers letting out a warning growl, but relaxes when Dazai dodges with ease. 

Distantly, he can hear yelling, but the sun is warm and the couch is probably the comfiest thing Atsushi has ever laid on and Atsushi is confident in his claws should anyone attempt to yell at him, so it’s easy to fall asleep. 

——

Atsushi lounges around the Agency for a while. Some days in human form, a handful in tiger, and most as a little bit of both. 

Tanizaki is the orange boy and Naomi is his territorial sister. They are both easy presences that do not grate on Atsushi, even if they are most comfortable with him in his human form. They treated him to a meal once and didn’t complain when Atsushi ate more than ten servings. 

Kunikida is the blond man. He never ceases to be loud and yells at Atsushi even more when he is in his tiger form. Boss told him that claws are an unacceptable response to mild provocation, so Atsushi takes to messing with Kunikida’s stacks of paper or knocking things off his desk. He’s pretty sure Dazai finds this hilarious. 

Ranpo is the one with the sharp green, almost-predator eyes. He likes snacks and if Atsushi’s fast enough he can swipe some goodies from him. Atsushi fails more often than not, but the few that he manages to gobble up are worth the repeated tries. 

Yosano is a pretty woman that was not at the office when Atsushi first arrived. She takes him with her as she shops and gives him a cute little cat plushy as a reward for “not bitching about a few bags”. Atsushi likes her a lot. 

Kenji is the blond boy that called him a cat. After being informed that Atsushi is a tiger, he agrees readily and asks if Atsushi likes cows. Atsushi says he’s only eaten a cow once but he would hunt three weeks on an empty stomach for another chance at a taste of it. Kenji laughs and asks if he wants to get beef bowls. Atsushi likes him too. 

Haruno is another lady that works there. She gives him scratches behind his ears when he’s a tiger and sometimes sits with him when he’s napping. 

Boss pets him too. Atsushi likes it just a little bit more than Haruno’s pets because Boss doesn’t coo about how cute he is. Atsushi is not cute. 

Dazai is still Atsushi’s favorite. Even though his touches suppress the tiger in Atsushi and Atsushi had to save him from an oil drum and Dazai often gets Kunikida to start yelling, he still is the one that brought Atsushi to his new territory and immediately recognized him as a tiger. Dazai is another predator, one Atsushi will watch closely to learn from. 

——

There is a stranger in his territory. She is speaking cooly to Kunikida about something or another, but that isn’t what Atsushi’s interested in. It’s her smell that has him drawing close. 

Atsushi comes up behind Kunikida, nose in the air for the coying, familiar hint of something under the woman’s faintly flowery scent. 

“Why,” Atsushi interrupts her, “do you smell of the Interloper?”

She freezes. “The what?”

“The Interloper.” Atsushi scowls. “He has weird tree root things that come from his coat, and he trespassed on my old territory and took my leg. I tried to take his arm, but the river carried him away.”

If possible, the woman goes even more still. 

“You’re the one,” she says quietly, “who did that to Akutagawa-senpai?”

There is a flurry of motion and Atsushi is springing back to avoid the gunshots zinging across the room. 

The woman stands on the table in front of the couch— oh, it’s going to take forever to get the faint stench of the Interloper out of that— with a shotgun in her hands and a scowl on her face. 

“I’ll never forgive you!” she shouts. 

She points her gun at Haruno— Haruno who strokes Atsushi’s nose and tells him how beautiful his fur is— and Atsushi doesn’t hesitate. He jumps in front of Haruno and takes one, two, four, bullets to his chest before falling forward. Haruno screams, but all Atsushi can focus on is the woman who came into his territory, brought the nasty smell of the Interloper on his couch, and then threatened his people.

It takes half a second for his hands to form into claws and another for them to rip apart the gun in the woman’s hands. It takes even less to have her under his tiger form on the floor, teeth near her throat and vibrating from his growl, bullet wounds already healing. 

A hand lands on his head, firm but not harsh. 

“Well done, Atsushi.” Boss says. “And welcome to the Agency.”

——

They give him clothes and a new place to stay. It is small, a little too small for a fully grown tiger such as he, but it is comfy and Boss says he can come into the Agency every day if he really needs to. 

Atsushi stands in the middle of the bare, tiny dorm, and feels something minuscule inside him burst. 

(Before, he only had the cage, and he loathed to think of that as his. Now, he had an entire agency and people and now a dorm. It was all his, his, his.)

He places the plush Yosano bought him in the middle of his futon and the plant Kenji had given him as a housewarming gift on the windowsill. He carefully, meticulously uses the microwave for the first time in his life to heat up the little ramen noodle pack Ranpo threw at him— as a distraction or gift, Atsushi doesn’t know. He sits at his table, feeling very accomplished and carefully eats his first meal in his dorm. 

He lasts just about two hours before stalking outside to hunt in the nearby park. 

——

“That uniform is unacceptable for work!” Kunikida berates him. Atsushi shuffles his bare feet, swishing his tail and contemplating laying on Kunikida’s desk in tiger form all day. “The President may have allowed this when you weren’t officially a part of the agency, but now you are! You must uphold—”

Kunikida’s desk is uncomfortable. The paper scratches at his fur, his computer and various pens dig into his side, and his legs hang off the edge rather oddly. 

It’s worth it though. Kunikida goes halfway into cardiac arrest with how red he gets and how loud he’s yelling before Yosano knocks him out for disturbing her with his “bitching”. Atsushi really likes Yosano. 

——

“So Atsushi-kun,” Dazai leans over Atsushi as he tries to make heads or tails of the reports Kunikida dumped on his desk. His chin rests on Atsushi’s head, but Atsushi doesn’t mind because today is a human day anyway. “You had dealings with the Port Mafia before I met you?”

“The Interloper,” Atsushi said darkly, “brought men in black into my territory. They scared off my prey and disturbed my nap. I took care of the men in black and tossed them outside my territory, and while I was distracted, he took my leg with his tree root things. I was almost successful in stealing his arm when he fell into the river and washed away.”

Dazai hums. “But you have a leg now?”

Atsushi shifted. “It grew back.”

(Atsushi had no idea why or how his healing happened. Why not heal him when the white-hot poker burned stripes into this side? Why not heal him the dozens of times he was beaten within an inch of his life? Why not heal him when the Headmaster nailed him to the floor and Atsushi was prying the bloody metal up from the concrete with weak fingers?)

“Wow, Atsushi-kun! Growing a whole leg back?”

Atsushi shrugged. 

“Dazai.”

Dazai peered down at Atsushi. “Hmmm?”

With pursed lips, Atsushi grumbled and pointed to a pair of kanji on his papers. 

“What does this say?”

Dazai paused. 

“Atsushi-kun,” he says slowly. “That’s ‘sexual intercourse’.”

Atsushi blinks. “What’s that?”

——

Yosano takes him on another shopping trip. He holds her huge boxes carefully and swerves around anyone who might dislodge or damage Yosano’s boxes. 

He dodges suited men and chattering women with a scowl and safely places Yosano’s purchases on the train rack when they find their seats. 

Atsushi finds a window as soon as he can. Yosano really is awesome; Atsushi gets to ride on a train now. Trains go even faster than cars. 

Furrowing his brow, Atsushi tips his head back. “Yosano-san? Do you think I’m faster than a train?”

Yosano makes a considering noise. “I haven’t seen you run, Atsushi, so I don’t know.”

Atsushi harrumphed and refocused on the blur of scenery outside the train. 

——

Atsushi charges through the train with single-minded determination. If neither bomber makes it to the center of the train, then Yosano’s boxes should be fine and Yosano will keep taking him on these trips. 

(Atsushi doesn’t know what he’ll do if Yosano decides he’s not worth anything anymore. Yosano, who buys him little trinkets on her trips and absentmindedly pats his head whether he is a tiger or a human. Atsushi likes her so, so much.)

He gets to the back of the train and a little girl in red is there, waiting. Atsushi hears a faint beeping coming from her, but can’t discern where exactly the bomb is. 

The girl holds a phone up to her ear. 

“Chop the enemy to pieces,” the phone rasps, “Demon Snow.”

A large apparition appears and slices at Atsushi. Atsushi arches his back and springs away, teeth and legs and arms morphing to tiger. 

“Give me the bomb.” Atsushi says, flexing his claws. If he can get the bomb, he can throw it far away into the water. 

“My name is Kyoka.” She replies, voice tinny and dull like an answering machine. “I am an orphan, like you.”

Atsushi growls and swipes at her.

(He won’t think about it, he won’t think about it, he won’t think about it, he won’t think about it—)

She ducks out of the way and her strange Ability— that’s what Boss and Dazai and Yosano would call it, so that’s what Atsushi will call it— charges at Atsushi. He tries to injure the hand holding the sword, but his claws go right through. 

“I was taken in by the Port Mafia.” 

Atsushi roars and attempts to charge at her only for his way to be blocked by her Ability. Dazai says the Port Mafia is where the Interloper came from and that they are the ones who intruded upon his territory. Atsushi will not forgive them. 

(Come to think of it, wasn’t Dazai absent this morning? Kunikida was yelling about it, but no one seemed to worry. Atsushi didn’t because he could understand the need to roam every once and a while. Besides, Dazai is a predator. Atsushi shoves the thought from his mind again.)

“I like rabbits and tofu.” Atsushi liked rabbits too. It’s been too long since he’s eaten rabbit. “I dislike dogs and thunder.”

She paused, though her Ability did not. It swung it’s sword down viciously, and Atsushi caught it on the fur of his forearm. It did not even break Atsushi’s skin. 

“I have killed thirty-five people.”

Something about the way she said it sounded like a damnation. Like she wasn’t proud of her kills, like they weren’t prey but victims. Predators kill out of necessity, not want. Atsushi couldn’t help but think that she thought of it as a necessity. 

Atsushi sprung past the Ability, dodging and tanking multiple stabs from it all the while. His claws come to rest at her throat. 

“Give me the bomb.” Atsushi says again. “Or you will kill even more.”

The girl— Kyoka, she had said— gazes at him listlessly. 

“The last was a family. A mother, a father, and a son.”

Atsushi looks back at her.  “There are families on this train.”

( Save them , screamed the part of Atsushi that never quite got over the venom the Headmaster had forcefully poured down his throat. Save them, save them, save them! )

Kyoka slowly pulled at the hems of her pretty red kimono. Strapped to her chest was the bomb. 

“Give me it.”. 

She hands him a remote instead, and Atsushi takes it readily. He pushes a button hopefully, uncertain if it’s the right one. 

“Oh, Kyōka,” the phone says. Both Atsushi and Kyōka jump. “Did you deactivate it? Take the passengers with you, then. Show everyone how formidable the Mafia is.”

The bomb’s light beeping swells and speeds up. Kyōka shoves him back. Atsushi stumbles back a couple steps as Kyōka retreats to the slashed opening of the metal of the train. 

“My name is Kyōka.” She says to Atsushi, like she wants him to know, wants him to remember. “I have killed thirty-five people.”

Atsushi cautiously steps forward. If he can grab the bomb…

“I don’t want to kill anymore.” Kyōka tells him, emotion leaking through the cracks in her voice. 

She jumps out of the train. 

——

Atsushi washes up on shore with Kyōka in his arms. He is disgruntled by the dampness of his fur, but tries not to show it. 

“Erm,” Kyōka stutters. 

Atsushi grumbles. “I’m too wet for this. It’s time for a nap.”

He plucks her up and stomps to the first patch of grass he finds. The grass is scraggly and the dirt is hard and the sun is behind a cloud but Atsushi doesn’t care. He wraps his torso around Kyōka, who tenses at being in a tiger’s clutches, and relishes the heat of a person on his fur. 

Yosano and her boxes had better be okay, or Atsushi will hunt down the other bomber after he wakes up. 

——

Dazai still isn’t back by the time Atsushi arrives at the Agency, but Yosano is. Atsushi pads up to her, Kyōka in tow, and butts her shoulder with his head. 

“Are your boxes okay?”

Yosano laughs. “Sorry, Atsushi. They’re not.”

Atsushi growls. 

Yosano scuffs his hair. “Don’t worry. We’ll go back out and replace everything. I’ll even grab you the pillow you were eyeing.”

Atsushi likes Yosano so much. 

Yosano focuses on Kyōka. “And who is she?”

Atsushi yawns. His earlier nap was hardly satisfying. He thinks about taking Kyōka to his favorite couch and napping with her there. 

“Found her on the train. She helped.”

Kyōka tenses. Atsushi doesn’t know why; he told Yosano the truth after all. 

“Is she, by chance, the other bomber?” Ranpo called as he packed away his snacks. 

Atsushi nodded. “Yeah.”

“Atsushi,” Kunikida yells. “You can’t bring wanted criminals into the Agency! She's part of the Port Mafia!”

“Not anymore.” Atsushi tells him, pulling Kyōka to the couch. “She’s staying with me.”

Kyōka goes down easily, eyes blank with shock. Atsushi curls around her, a tiger once more. He chuffs and says nothing about the new wetness to his previously dry fur. 

——

“We’re going to find Dazai-san.” Atsushi says to Kunikida. 

Dazai has been missing for two full days, and Atsushi doesn’t like it. Kyōka told him it was her mission to capture him, but she has no clue what the Port Mafia did to him. 

“You bring a wanted criminal into the Agency, refuse to hand her over to the police, make me pay for expensive tofu to interrogate her, and now you want to go find Dazai.” 

Kunikida sounds strangely calm. Atsushi pushes Kyōka behind him. 

“Yes?”

Kunikida is still. Atsushi can hear the rising storm, so he nudges Kyōka and walks to the elevator before Kunikida explodes.

——

Atsushi buys Kyōka a crepe and himself an ice cream. Ice cream is tasty, and Kyōka had been looking longingly in the direction of the crepe stand. He eats it delicately as he sniffs around for Dazai. 

“You don’t have to do this,” Kyōka tells him, prying her eyes from staring at the crepe in wonderment. “You should just hand me over to the police.”

“No.” Atsushi says firmly. “I like you and you’re comfy to nap with.”

(Atsushi has never had a companion. Even at the orphanage, no one stood next to him for longer than necessary. Kyoka is an orphan. Kyōka naps with him. Kyōka seems to like him. Atsushi likes Kyoka.)

Kyoka sniffs and takes a bite of her crepe. 

——

The Interloper stands firm in front of Atsushi. 

“You,” he growls. 

Atsushi growls back. 

“Akutagawa.” Kyoka whispers. 

“Kyoka, I can hear Dazai-san singing down there.” Atsushi points to the massive sink hole he had created with a few well-placed punches. “Please retrieve him, if you feel up to it.”

Kyoka nods and Atsushi pounces on the Interloper, tipping them both underground after her.

——

“Atsushi-kun!” Dazai smiles brightly, calling his name from above ground. “I didn’t know you would be coming!”

Atsushi twists out of the way of the Interloper’s Rashōmon— the name of the tree roots emanating from his coat— and leaps up to land near Dazai, but closer to Kyoka to pat her head. 

“You were missing, Dazai-san.” 

Dazai reaches out and pulls at his cheeks harshly, forcing the tiger limbs to disappear. “Such a cute subordinate.”

The Interloper howls in fury. Atsushi hauls Dazai over his shoulder and takes hold of Kyoka’s hand before setting down the street. 

——

It comes to Atsushi’s attention that Dazai wants to die. 

Granted, he somewhat knew this as Dazai waxed poetically about suicide as often as he was able and Atsushi himself had rescued him from a few of his attempts, but Atsushi had somewhat figured it was just an eccentricity. 

Atsushi had been in search of Dazai to invite him to the park with himself and Kyoka when he caught sight of legs sticking up out of the river. Only Dazai drowned that ridiculously, so Atsushi leapt across the river, snagging Dazai’s leg and hauling him as he went. He had been careful to touch only the material of Dazai’s pants, so the landing was graceful and painless. 

Dazai was set gently upon the ground on his back. Atsushi crouched over him, concerned. 

“Why,” Dazai says quietly, head tipped up to the sky and eyes dull, “did you have to make a habit of rescuing me, Atsushi-kun?”

Atsushi does not respond. He stared unblinkingly at Dazai even as he plasters on a smile and asks what Atsushi needed. 

Atsushi drags him to the park along with Kyoka. He buys her a crepe and Dazai a vanilla ice cream cone instead of himself. Dazai cheers as Atsushi presses it into his fingers, but no joy reaches his eyes. 

Dazai wants to die. Dazai would rather die than stay here with Atsushi. 

——

Atsushi steals a pair of scissors from Yosano’s office. His claws won’t work for what he needs them for and Yosano has no scalpels in her infirmary. 

He finds Dazai having his offer of double suicide rejected by a woman and stands behind him. Dazai turns to Atsushi, smiling. Atsushi holds the blade of the scissors behind his back. 

“Dazai-san.” He greets. “Do you wish to die?”

Dazai’s smile doesn’t drop. “In a most glorious and beautiful suicide.”

Fast as a bullet fresh from the chamber, Atsushi has the blade of the scissors pressed to Dazai’s throat. 

“Then ask me. Ask me to kill you and I will.”

Dazai gapes at him with wide eyes, still and finally not smiling. Atsushi has known him for three months and has rarely ever seen him without a smile. 

“Ask me.” Atsushi insists. “I promise I will.”

Dazai is silent.

Atsushi waits. Counts to thirty. Pulls the scissors from Dazai’s jugular. 

“Alright then,” Atsushi declares. “It’s decided.”

Dazai still does not move. “What is?”

Atsushi regards him gravely. “You are not allowed to die. You may see a river and wish to jump in, but I will be there. You may tie a rope around your neck to hang, but I will be there. You may put a gun up to your head, but I will be there. The only one who will give you death is me, but I will only do so if you ask it of me.”

Dazai stares and stares and stares. 

He clears his throat. “Well, Atsushi-kun.” He pauses. “That’s rather selfish, don’t you think?”

( Selfish, the Headmaster called him as Atsushi starved and bled and cried. 

Yes, Atsushi replies now. For he has a home, people, and everything else he dreamed about Before. And he will be selfish until his last breath to keep it.)

Atsushi shrugs. “I don’t care.”

Dazai smiles, but it’s heartbreaking and small and melancholy. “Alright, Atsushi-kun. Alright.”

Atsushi gives him the same smile back and tucks the scissors in his pocket. 

——

A helicopter lands on the Agency roof and Atsushi is inraptured. 

“Dazai-san.” Atsushi collapses on Dazai, who is lounging on a couch. “I want to ride in a helicopter.”

Dazai smiles at him, and it doesn’t reek of plastic and rubber. It makes Atsushi chuff and bury his head in the crook of Dazai’s neck. A hand strokes softly at the tiny hairs at the base of Atsushi’s head. 

“Okay then, Atsushi-kun. Shall I steal this one for you?”

Kunikida bellows refutials. 

——

The helicopter belonged to the man who wanted to buy Atsushi. Like some kind of house cat. 

Atsushi snorts, until he learns of the offer to buy his territory. 

Everything from the dorms to the Agency to the park to the buildings around them belong to Atsushi. This will not stand. 

“What if,” Atsushi says to Boss, “we team up with the Port Mafia?”

He kind of misses the Interloper anyway. 

——

Atsushi waits for Naomi and Haruno and Dazai on the train station bench. Naomi and Haruno arrive before Dazai gets back, and with them is a small child who smells of blood. 

They look about Kyoka’s age, and that’s what makes Atsushi soften.

“Hello,” Atsushi very gently grasps their wrists. The child gazes at him with odd eyes and a smiling mouth. It reeks of plastic almost as much as Dazai’s did. 

“I’m Q,” the child says and Atsushi nods solemnly in return.  

The smell of blood is strongest on their arm, so Atsushi carefully pulls up their shirt sleeves. Razor blades glint under the sun where they are embedded in Q’s arms. 

Atsushi stares at them and then Q. Q watches him with an inscrutable expression. 

(The razors remind him of the chains that pinned him to the floor of his cage. Atsushi wonders if these are Q’s chains.)

Atsushi eases out one razor. Q flinches, then smiles madly. 

——

Dazai stands quietly next to Atsushi as Naomi and Haruno recover in the infirmary with Yosano.  

“You can’t save everyone.”

Atsushi says nothing and continues his silent mourning. 

——

Dazai is the best. Dazai is Atsushi’s complete and absolute favorite. Anything Dazai asks for will at the very least be heavily considered by Atsushi. 

Atsushi lets out a loud whoop as the helicopter lifts off the ground. The fwoop fwoop fwoop of the metal blades slicing through the air hurts Atsushi’s ears but they’re lifting off the ground and Atsushi is screaming his joy aloud to the world. 

——

The Interloper is on the flying whale too. 

Atsushi lunges at the same time he does. Rashomon wraps around his arms and legs and one manages to tangle around his throat just before Atsushi puts his claws to the Interloper’s jugular. 

“ Jinko.” He growls. 

“Interloper,” Atsushi replies in kind.

“Now, now, Atsushi-kun,” Dazai coos in his ear. “Play nice. Akutagawa-kun is your teammate for this one.”

“The Interloper ?” Atsushi wrinkles his nose. 

“Yes, yes. I needed the Mafia’s best attacker to save Q, so you get their second best. Isn’t that nice?”

Atsushi stills. “Are they… okay?”

“Q is fine. Tell Akutagawa-kun.”

Atsushi let’s loose a long sigh that tapers into a groan. Slowly, he relaxes his claws. 

“Interloper. We have an assignment.”

The Interloper scowls, Rashomon’s tendrils tightening. 

“ I’ll kill you where you stand regardless.”

“Atsushi-kun,” Dazai’s voice was steely. “Give me over to him.”

“Dazai-san wants to speak to you.”

The Interloper’s eyes widened, then sharpened. Rashomon loosened the barest bit, allowing Atsushi to hand over his ear set. 

“Dazai-san.” The Interloper sounded desperate and astonished. It didn’t sit right with Atsushi. 

The Interloper stood at attention for all of a few seconds before handing the set back to Atsushi. 

“Let’s go.” He said shortly as he turned on his heel to stride down the metal corridor. 

Atsushi grumbled as he followed. 

——

Teaming up with the Interloper wasn’t the worst thing in the world. In fact, it was right under going without napping, being cold, being hungry, being chained, Kyōka getting hurt, and anyone at the Agency dying. 

They stood together on the steadily rising Moby Dick and gaze at the sky together. 

“You are fortunate that I am too tired to slaughter you at this moment, jinko. ”

“Shut up, Akutagawa.”

Akutagawa starts, then turns his head and coughs. 

Atsushi hums. If he can team up with Akutagawa, then he can use his name. 

——

“KYOKA!” Atsushi screams desperately as Akutagawa drags him away from the control room. “KYOKA, KYOKA, KYOKA!”

Kyoka was going to drive a helicopter into the sinking Moby Dick to save the city and save Atsushi. Kyoka, who was his companion. Kyoka, who loved crepes and rabbits and tofu. Kyoka, who cried into his fur when he said he was keeping her. Kyoka, who was a part of his family. 

If Atsushi wasn’t exhausted, he would tear Akutagawa’s hand off with his teeth and escape and pull Kyoka from that damned helicopter that she had been chained to by remaining Guild members. If Atsushi wasn’t weak , he’d already be on the roof of Moby Dick once more and leaping to rescue Kyoka. 

There was a long, anguished wailing ringing off the metal of the Moby Dick that Atsushi belatedly recognizes as his own. Akutagawa’s grip on his shirt does not falter. 

Atsushi blinks and they are in front of Dazai and Boss. Atsushi stumbles to them, distraught.

“Dazai-san, Boss. Kyoka— Kyoka-chan, she—”

“We know, Atsushi-kun.” Dazai tells him gently. “Kyoka-chan went in on my orders.”

Dazai is cruel. Dazai is a predator. Dazai is something merciless and terrifying disguised as something harmless. Atsushi knew this. But Atsushi had also thought that Dazai intended to be good. And maybe he was. Maybe the only thing Dazai could think of to save Yokohama was to send in Kyoka as a trump card. But Kyoka…

Dazai grasps Atsushi’s shoulder. “Look, Atsushi-kun.”

Atsushi turned, wanting— needing— to believe that Dazai had pulled off a miracle. 

Kyoka landed, her pretty red kimono scuffed and torn, but ultimately whole, with Demon Snow standing guard behind her. 

Atsushi crushed her to his chest as a keening sob ripped from his throat. 

“Welcome to the Agency, Kyoka-chan.” Boss said over the noise. 

Atsushi cried louder. 

——

“Dazai-san,” Atsushi murmured. “Let’s go get ice cream.”

Dazai peered up from under Atsushi, his hand pausing  it’s soothing circular strokes on Atsushi’s back. “What about Kyoka-chan?”

Atsushi rolled off the couch to stretch. “She’s guiding Ranpo-san through the train system.”

“You didn’t want to go? You love trains.”

“Kyoka-chan said one directionless idiot was enough for her. And anyway, I never thanked you for the helicopter ride.”

——

Edgar Allen Poe was Ranpo’s friend. Being Ranpo’s friend meant being subjected to Ranpo’s ever changing whims and snack breaks. Being Ranpo’s friend meant sitting still while his tiger friend did his damndest to steal said snacks. Being Ranpo’s friend meant being inside the Agency, which meant the likelihood of said tiger friend napping on you increased tenfold. 

Poe was a good nap mate. He didn’t shift a lot and he smelled of ink and raccoon fur and was content to sit and write for hours as Atsushi slept. Plus, napping with him meant napping with Karl as well. Atsushi liked Poe. 

He told him this as his head rested in Poe’s lap. Poe choked up and said he had to go home before rushing out the door. It was alright though because he was back within the hour and Atsushi got to continue his nap. 

——

The Headmaster was dead.  

He was dead and Atsushi didn’t even get to kill him. 

He was dead when he still hadn’t answered for what he had done to Atsushi. For what he had said. He was dead. 

He was dead and Atsushi hadn’t gotten to tell him that he was the real monster, not Atsushi. 

He was dead and Atsushi hadn’t learned his real name until now. 

He was dead because he found Atsushi and was coming to see him.

He was dead and he had had an appointment at the flower shop before coming to meet Atsushi. 

(Was it to drag him back, kicking and screaming? Was it to tell him how worthless he was, no matter how many people he had saved? Was it to tell him why? Why he hid Atsushi’s tiger from everyone, Atsushi included. Why he whipped and starved and tormented Atsushi for more than eleven years. Why he looked at Atsushi and saw nothing of worth. Or was it to… no. It couldn’t be for anything other than more torture. It couldn’t.)

Atsushi screams. In rage, in fury, in pathetic sorrow. He runs from the street, runs from the body, runs from Tanizaki, runs and runs and runs. 

Atsushi runs to find the only person who might understand. 

Atsushi runs to Akutagawa. 

——

“ Jinko, ” Akutagawa says upon seeing Atsushi. 

“Akutagawa,” Atsushi replies, voice croaking and desperate.

Akutagawa stows away his glasses. Rashomon dances eagerly in the air, and Akutagawa’s blood lust spikes intensely before it lunges. 

Atsushi is relieved that he didn’t have to speak anymore.

——

“Get off of me, you flea-bitten mongrel.”

Akutagawa is rail thin and not warm at all. Atsushi cannot turn completely tiger for fear of crushing his already damaged lungs. Still, Atsushi burrows deeper into Akutagawa’s chest. Tellingly, Rashomon does not appear to skewer his organs, meaning Akutagawa is tired beyond belief or he doesn’t want to kill Atsushi. 

Atsushi thinks it might be a mix of both. 

Akutagawa doesn’t ask, but Atsushi feels the question in the air. 

“My ‘Dazai’ died.” Atsushi tells Akutagawa’s clavicle. 

Akutagawa is silent for a moment.

“So your master is dead.”

Atsushi’s bones lose their placid liquidity as he tenses. Master. If that isn’t a word to describe Him , nothing was. 

“What will you do?”

Atsushi laughs wryly. “Despair over not killing him myself?”

Akutagawa coughs. It’s dry and not that deep, but Atsushi shifts his weight worriedly all the same. 

“No,” Akutagawa’s chest vibrates slightly as he rasps. “You will mourn. You will rage or cry or whatever else your ridiculous, fool self sees fit to do. You are grieving, are you not?”

Atsushi ducks his head. “No.”

The words ring false even to him. 

Akutagawa scoffs and they lay in silence once more. 

——

“If anyone else ever kills you, I will slaughter them as painfully as I am capable.” Akutagawa tells him with the setting sun as their backdrop. “If anyone ever takes you, I will hunt them and you down to the ends of the world. You will never escape me; never know an end other than me; never control your own death, as I hold it in my hands. You are my kill, my prey.”

Atsushi draws up his shoulders. How does he say if anyone ever steals your last moments in life when they have been mine since the instant I met you, I will ensure they never sleep without one eye open; never take a breath without looking behind their shoulder; never enjoy a moment alone without fearing for their life. You are my kill, my prey without sounding completely insane? 

Atsushi can’t think of one so he nods and says, “Yeah. You too.”

The words sound more like a promise than a threat, anyway.

Akutagawa and Atsushi regard each other in the saturated orange and yellow of the fading day. As one, they turn from each other and stride away. 

——

“Atsushi-kun!” Dazai calls. “Where did you go?”

Atsushi looks at Dazai. Shrugs. 

“Someone I once knew died.”

That’s all he can bear to give away. Perhaps one day in the future, he can tell Dazai of his past, and Dazai can tell him his own. But not now, not when Atsushi is still so raw. 

Dazai’s smile fades. “Were they important to you?”

Atsushi tips his head back. The stars in Yokohama shine brighter than anywhere else. 

(Was he? Atsushi hates him. Hates him, hates him, hates him. He will never forgive the Headmaster. 

But the Headmaster defines Atsushi’s past. Defines and shapes who Atsushi is and what actions he takes even now. The Headmaster put him through hell. The Headmaster made his life miserable. The Headmaster tormented him enough that Atsushi, the coward he was, ran far, far away. The Headmaster was the reason he met Dazai in the first place.)

“In a way.”

Dazai places his hand on Atsushi’s shoulder. Tears slip past Atsushi’s closed eyelids, in grief, in bereavement, in relief, and Dazai pulls him in closer. 

——

Tanizaki doesn’t ask when Atsushi comes back the next morning. He doesn’t ask why Atsushi screamed as though a part of him had died or why he ran. He did, however, lay with Atsushi on the couch in the afternoon sun and slowly stroke his head. Atsushi is glad that tigers don’t have tear glands, because otherwise he would start sobbing all over again. 

——

Yosano takes him shopping once more. 

“You're getting to be such a hotshot, Atsushi.” Yosano hands him another three bags as they exit their previous store and enter another. 

“Really?” Atsushi asks, blissfully happy.

Yosano had already bought him ice cream, a cute chameleon mug, and the long awaited pillow that Atsushi had yearned for for so long. Atsushi likes Yosano soooooooo much. 

“Saving the city like that? Of course.”

Yosano reaches over the clothing rack she’s inspecting to ruffle the hair between his striped ears. Atsushi laughs. 

“I did it for the Agency.” Atsushi tells her seriously. “For you and Kyoka-chan and Dazai-san and Boss and everyone else. I would do it again too.”

Yosano smiles at him. It’s soft and warm and makes Atsushi feel all fuzzy inside. 

“I know.”

Atsushi squeals as she places a cat plush on the counter for buying. 

——

Living with Kyoka is one of the best things in the whole world, in Atsushi’s opinion. She is quiet and kind and always ready to nap with him on the futon.

On the nights when the Headmaster holds Atsushi in his iron grip and hateful eyes, Atsushi will wake to Kyoka standing guard over him, one hand on her tanto and the other on Atsushi’s shoulder. 

On the nights where Kyoka wakes with a scream caught in her throat, Atsushi is there, laying still but attentive as a tiger, tail and paws encasing her. 

Kyoka makes breakfast everyday and dinner every other night. Atsushi packs lunches for them everyday and cooks dinner when Kyoka doesn’t. They keep their space clean and treat each other’s few trinkets and items with respect. The chores are divided evenly and they rarely ever fight. 

Some nights Kyoka drags her blanket over to the closet where Atsushi sleeps and curls up with him. Other nights Atsushi drapes himself over Kyoka, half on her futon and half on the tatami mats. 

Atsushi has never cared for anyone the way he cares for Kyoka. She is his in a way no one else in the world is, not even Dazai. She sleeps with him, eats with him, works with him, lives with him. They are both tattered, both scarred and cracked, but they finish each other’s edges like a new golden gliding. 

Atsushi wouldn’t say he loves Kyoka. 

(How could he? He doesn’t know what love is. Is love the breath between his ribs when he is running, free and not dragged down by chains and poison? Is love the careful rasp of his tongue over the sheen of his fur? Is love the grand immensity of standing on the highest building in Yokohama and knowing it’s all his? Or is love the tiny, quiet feeling of simply being? Atsushi doesn’t know. Maybe it’s none of them; maybe it’s all of them.)

It’s all convoluted and confusing, but Atsushi knows he wants Kyoka with him. Possibly forever.

“You don’t have to move out,” Atsushi says slowly, careful not to disturb his chazuke. It’s the second time Kyoka has brought up moving this week and he’s doing his best not to be upset. “You can… you could just stay. With me.”

(He’s lived alone for years in vast wilderness. A tiny apartment all to himself should not make his stomach clench.)

(Maybe Atsushi will never put a name to the feeling. Maybe Atsushi will never define ‘love’. But… maybe he doesn’t need to.)

“Oh,” Kyoka says, face tipped to her food.

“I want you here.

“I don’t…” Kyoka flounders. “I can’t…”

Tears begin to dribble solemn paths down her face and before Atsushi can move around the table to hug her, Kyoka launches herself at him and squeezes him as tight as she can. 

“Then I won’t go,” she sniffs. “Not ever.”

——

Atsushi wakes up as a tiger. 

He yawns and stretches, glad he made Kyoka’s lunch the night before. 

Kyoka furrows her brow sleepily before comprehension seeps through her expression and she murmurs a ‘good morning’. 

It’s been a while since Atsushi has had a tiger day. He thinks it might be prolonged exposure to everyone at the Agency and being a full time human being again.   

He and Kyoka walk together to the Agency, garnering more stares and shrieks than usual. It makes Atsushi chuff and prance a little more than stride. Kyoka giggles at him. 

When they enter the cafe, there is a bloodcurdling scream. Atsushi snarls and bunches his muscles, pushing in front of Kyoka who has her tanto out in the blink of an eye. 

A red haired girl is shaking feet away from them, coffee spilled all over the floor. Atsushi thinks he might remember her from the Guild. His growl raises a few decibels. 

“Montgomery-chan?” The owner of the cafe pokes his head around the corner and his eyes widen in understanding. 

“Oh, Atsushi-kun and Kyoka-chan. Forgive me, it’s her first day and I didn’t really explain.”

“It’s alright.” Kyoka tells him stiffly, slowly sheathing her weapon. Atsushi follows her lead, untensing and quieting. 

“Please make sure she doesn’t cause trouble,” Kyoka calls as she and Atsushi stand in the elevator. 

The owner bows and Montgomery does as well. Atsushi catches her eye and shows just a little bit of fang. Montgomery pales further. 

“Good morning,” Kyoka calls to the office when the elevator doors open. 

“Good morning!” Kenji waves rapidly. 

“Atsushi!” Kunikida bellows. “Did you go through Yokohama as a tiger again?”

Atsushi tilts his head and flicks his right ear. 

“Kyoka! You let him?”

Kyoka tilts her head and twitches, sending her right pigtail over her shoulder. 

“Atsushi!” Kunikida is growing red in color. Sitting on his desks or moving his papers may get Atsushi electrocuted instead of lectured. “That is unacceptable—”

“But why Kunikida-san?” Kenji asks, running his fingers over Atsushi’s fur. “Atsushi is a human and a tiger, right? So isn’t it okay if he has days where he feels just tigerish?”

Kenji is officially forgiven for ever associating Atsushi with a cat. Kenji is amazing and they will definitely be getting beef bowls on the next possible occasion. 

“That’s not the point!” Kunikida screams. 

Atsushi is still tired and Kunikida is making a lot of noise, so he corrals Kunikida to the couch with head butts and tugging teeth and swiping paws. Kunikida yells and flails, but fails to escape before Atsushi pushes him down on the couch and sprawls on him. 

The morning sun is making up for the fact that his nap mate is still squirming, all yellow and warm and gleaming. Atsushi yawns and sinks his bones into the couch and Kunikida before settling in and closing his eyes. 

——

Ranpo dodges Atsushi once more, but Atsushi was prepared for that. He springs off the bookcase with a flip to snatch at the cookies Ranpo holds so possessively. Unfortunately, Ranpo was prepared for Atsushi being prepared and he ducks Atsushi’s greedy paws. Ranpo sticks his tongue out at Atsushi before tipping the bag of cookies back and pouring the rest into his gaping maw. 

Atsushi holds up the single cookie he managed to snatch and crunches it delicately between his molars. It’s salty and chocolate-y and sweet. Satisfied, Atsushi collapses onto Ranpo right there on the floor. 

“I’m the world’s greatest detective, you know.” Ranpo says squirming. “I could get out of this the moment I needed to.”

“But you didn’t dodge?” Atsushi replies lazily. 

Ranpo harrumps and turns his head. 

——

Boss is infected and it is so unbelievably unacceptable that Atsushi almost goes on a rampage to hunt the person responsible for this. 

“So the Port Mafia’s boss is infected, too?” Atsushi asks, tail lashing in rage and worry and fear. “Then it will be another Guild incident, right? We’ll team up and find whoever did this .” Atsushi can’t help the growl that bubbles up behind his words. 

“Unfortunately, Atsushi-kun, I don’t think so. The Port Mafia thinks differently than us and will definitely try to kill our boss to save theirs.” Dazai says, running a soothing hand over Atsushi’s head where he crouches. Atsushi relaxes slightly, even as his tiger aspects melt away. 

“Then… we need to kill the Port Mafia’s boss, right?” Atsushi tilts his head back to look at Dazai. Dazai stands tall above him with that serious look on his face, and Atsushi doesn’t have a tail anymore, but if he did it would be twitching anxiously. “Dazai-san… I’ve never… I’ve never had to kill another human before.”

Forest animals are different. Atsushi kills those for survival and necessity. He knows he’ll be able to kill to protect those he cares about, and even be able to kill Akutagawa or Dazai when the time comes, but Atsushi has no idea how he’s supposed to live with himself afterwards. 

“You won’t have to,” Dazai promises, gazing straight ahead. 

Bleakly, Atsushi wonders if he can keep that promise. 

——

Everything happens in such a blur that Atsushi doesn’t even try to keep up. 

Dazai gets shot in the stomach while investigating the whole ordeal? It’s cool, and Atsushi is going to internalize that and rage about it later.

Port Mafia sends people after Boss and the Agency goes to storm the Mafia base to kill their boss? Sure. 

Ranpo traps Chuuya Nakahara and himself in a book because Poe will do anything Ranpo asks? Awesome, Atsushi will revisit that. 

Boss goes to confront the Port Mafia boss and comes back with a ceasefire command? Yeah, okay. 

Suddenly the Agency and the Port Mafia are storming a base and Dazai broke out of the hospital and Akutagawa and Atsushi are teaming up for a Moby Dick Smackdown Part Two? Fine, fine, sure, okay. 

Atsushi kind of likes Akutagawa anyway. Everything’s fine. 

——

Everything, a tiny part of Atsushi’s mind screams, is not fine!

Even as Atsushi shoves Akutagawa out of the way of the bullet, he knows something is wrong. He smelled the same acrid sickliness that hangs around Boss beginning to waft from Akutagawa. Now in their cramped mine cart, it’s strong. 

Bombs go off and Akutagawa and Atsushi are sent flying. Atsushi pulls on his tiger form and Akutagawa is there, Rashomon wrapping around his chest like a harness for Akutagawa to hold fast to. 

“This is an unpleasant ride,” Akutagawa tells him, hand smoothing over the fur of Atsushi’s scruff. “Do better, jinko. ”

Atsushi snarls and purposely makes a few jaunty zags when there’s no falling rock or debris to be found. Akutagawa tugs sharply on Atsushi’s ear. 

——

Atsushi forgot how awesome teaming up with Akutagawa is. Rashomon snakes around Atsushi like a second skin, purring and whispering and warm, and Atsushi is unstoppable. His claws are black as a moonless night and long like wires, but still as strong as before. 

Atsushi destroys every rock golem and regular rock in his path, fangs gleaming in a wide smile. 

When he lands, Akutagawa is smiling too, but he coughs to hide it. 

“Cease your foolish grinning, jinko . You have accomplished nothing of value.”

Atsushi really, really wants to lay on Akutagawa but his walkie talkie crackles and Kunikida is asking for a status update and Akutagawa and Atsushi have a rat to flush out. 

——

Fyodor Dostoevsky is not there. 

The man with the rock golems says that the music is how Dostoevsky sends his orders. He laughs and laughs and smiles and Atsushi can’t help but pity him, just a little. 

Akutagawa evidently does not, because as soon as it becomes apparent he will not talk anymore, Akutagawa knocks him out. 

“Atsushi,” Kunikida’s voice is rife with static. “We have nullified the virus and it’s Ability user. If you and Akutagawa can bring the other Ability user, the police can take it from there.”

“What about Dostoevsky?” Atsushi asks in distaste, wondering if it would be too petty for him to destroy the radio along with the rest of the tiny opulent room. 

“Dazai is taking care of it.”

Atsushi takes in a sharp breath, and distantly he hears Akutagawa do the same. 

“Dazai-san? As in Dazai-san who had to break out of a hospital to even sit in as a strategist today? Dazai-san with a bullet wound in his stomach? That Dazai-san?”

Kunikida sounds just as displeased as Atsushi. “Yes.”

“I’ll not nap with him for a week,” Atsushi says darkly. 

He lashes his claws out and shatters the radio. 

——

They try to put Atsushi in a suit for the celebration. Atsushi politely declines. Kunikida insists. Atsushi tells him that he will tear the suit to ribbons. Kunikida relents. 

Just as well, Atsushi thinks. None of his  clothes are as ridiculous as that monstrosity. His shirts all have short sleeves for his paws and his shorts have a hole for his tail. Nothing about that long sleeved, tight fitted suit and polished black shoes looked tiger friendly. 

That said, Kyoka looks very pretty in her dress. Atsushi smiles broadly at her as he smooths his hands over her hair and shoulders. Kyoka blushes and tells him he’s being ridiculous. 

“Kyoka.” A beautiful red haired lady calls. 

Kyoka tenses and Atsushi takes a half step in front of her. 

“No need for that, child. I simply wish to speak to Kyoka.”

“Atsushi-kun,” Kyoka places her hand on Atsushi’s shoulder. “It’s alright. Kouyou-san won’t hurt me.”

Atsushi met Kyoka’s eyes. They were steely and hard. Unyielding. 

“Okay, Kyoka-chan. If you need anything,” Atsushi twitches his ears, “just yell.”

Kyoka nods and Atsushi slips away. 

——

Atsushi manages to catch Akutagawa by surprise. 

He’s still in his regular clothes, but he’s looking much better than what he did in the mineshaft. Atsushi buries himself in the folds of his coat and squeezes him tightly. 

“I’ll kill you, jinko. ” Akutagawa rasps, Rashomon rattling in the air. 

Atsushi huffs. Hugs him harder. 

“Slowly. Carefully. Painfully.”

“We’re an awesome team.” Atsushi tells him. 

Akutagawa is startled enough for Atsushi to plant his foot behind his ankle and tip them both over.

The rest is a mess of hissed cursing and peals of laughter. 

——

Atsushi finds Dazai out on the deck when Akutagawa gets tired of him and starts legitimately trying to murder Atsushi. Dazai is slipping idly on a champagne flute and staring wistfully at the water, a melancholy air about him. Atsushi smacks him over the head with his tail, not caring that it disappeared on impact. 

“Ow, Atsushi-kun!” Dazai shouts, a hand cupping his skull. “That hurt! I’m injured, you know.”

Atsushi hums skeptically. “That didn’t seem to stop you from going after Dostoevsky.”

Dazai chuckles nervously. “Oh, that.”

Atsushi raises an eyebrow. 

“No, Atsushi-kun! All I did was sit in a cafe and gloat a little, promise! The police did the actual capturing!”

Atsushi sighs and pulls Dazai in close.

“Who were you remembering?” Atsushi asks him. 

Dazai freezes minisculely in his arms. He says nothing. 

Atsushi smiles. He’s glad Dazai didn’t lie, at least. 

“It’s alright.” Atsushi tells him, propping his chin on Dazai’s chest to peer up at him. “You can tell me later. You have all the time in the world, right?”

Dazai huffs a laugh. “Too right, Atsushi-kun.” 

A hand threads gently through his hair. 

“You’re still in trouble,” Atsushi murmured. 

“But Atsushi-kun! I helped prevent slaughter and war!”

Atsushi sniffs. “This is the last cuddle you get this week, so you’d better enjoy it.”

“Okay, Atsushi-kun.” Dazai says, smiling widely.  “I will.”