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'Entry to be denied at the absence of either one of the aforementioned parties.'
Or so it says on the invitation, typed right below their names. The clerk raises a brow at the unusual remark, then looks up to confirm that both Nakajima Atsushi and Akutagawa Ryuunosuke are present.
He hands the invitation back. "Well then, please enjoy the evening, gentlemen."
Akutagawa nods once as reply while Atsushi manages a cheerful 'thanks', and then they're swept into the party hall.
"I can't believe Dazai-san went through the trouble of putting that on the invitation," Atsushi remarks, as they pass through the small waiting area for guests expecting their friends' arrivals. They don't see anyone they recognize, which is no surprise to them.
"An unnecessary instruction, indeed." Akutagawa adjusts his maroon tie for the umpteenth time. He won't admit it, but attending such a lavish party is making him self-conscious.
And for good reason too. Watchmaking is a highly regarded profession, but the pair do not receive many invitations, and certainly not to fancy affairs such as a meteor shower viewing party. They excel at their profession, but something about them discourages interactions of a more personal level.
More than once, Akutagawa has wondered whether it is his personality causing people not to approach them (most probably). Maybe he should try to be more amicable, if only for Atsushi's sake. It's possible that his partner would like to attend more of these events instead of being holed up in the workshop day after day.
Atsushi looks over and smirks. "Maybe not that unnecessary had it been the first few weeks - no, months even - of our partnership."
Akutagawa finds a small smile tugging at his lips. "True." Well, whatever happens at this party, Atsushi will be by his side, so it can't be too bad.
The party-goers stand in their little groups around the hall, making small talk before moving on to another cluster of people. The gentle murmur of conversation is punctuated by well-practiced laughs; in one corner the band plays soft jazz, filling in the space beneath the noises of the party like a blanket. The light from the chandelier glancing off jewellery, the pleasant clink of glasses as guests toast one thing or other. Tables covered in teal cloth and laden with porcelain plates of bite-sized cakes and snacks line the hall on each side.
Akutagawa keeps his head down as he moves further into the room, taking care not to step on polished shoes or trailing hems. The floor is a dark shade of blue, almost black, dotted with flakes of white in the material. It reminds him of the night sky, which is fitting considering the nature of the party.
From the entrance, the hall stretches towards the left and right, while the entire wall opposite it is made up of glass panels fused almost seamlessly together. From where he's standing Akutagawa can only catch a glimpse of the view outside, what with it being partially hidden by the main star of the hall.
Standing majestically in the middle of all this is an enormous copper globe of planet Earth, spinning counter-clockwise on an axis, the top of it extending a little beyond the railings of the first floor boxes. As Akutagawa tilts his head back to watch in silent awe, Asia rotates out of view, to be replaced by Europe and Africa, then North and South America, before coming back into view again. From somewhere to his left Atsushi lets out an excited gasp, like he always does when he sees something that delights him. The sound grounds Akutagawa to reality even as his eyes take in the beveled surfaces of the mountains depicted on the globe.
“You’re thinking about the inner mechanisms, aren’t you?” Akutagawa asks quietly.
Atsushi nods, gaze traveling from the top of the globe to the bottom of its illuminated stand, taking the contraption apart in his mind. “And you're looking at the outlines of the continents.”
Akutagawa wonders when they started to understand each other so well; was it an abrupt click, or was it a slow and gradual process? Maybe a little of both, however that works.
He reads the names of countries he has never been to. There's a lot more of them than he expected.
“Hey, Akutagawa?” Atsushi says, after a few minutes.
“Yeah.”
“It’s still a while before Dazai-san shows up, so what do you say we get something to eat before that?”
After finding out that the party will be serving food, both of them had reached an agreement to skip dinner for tonight. It’s not that they’re struggling financially - their job pays well enough - but more of a remnant of their difficult childhoods. The pair had grown up poor, and even now they can’t quite bring themselves to spend extravagantly. “Sure. I’ll take the tables on that side.” Akutagawa indicates with a tilt of his head.
“We’ll meet in front of the windows, then.” With that Atsushi heads straight for the other end of the hall, leaving his partner to navigate the floor on his own. Akutagawa glances at the globe once more before melting into the crowd of guests.
The crowd here mostly consists of the upper echelons of society; they are dressed in expensive waistcoats and gowns, decorated tastefully with cogs. Akutagawa knows someone that specializes in decorative cogs; the one pinned to his tie was bought from her, specially for this event. Atsushi's is pinned to the lapel of his dark blue suit. Higuchi had given them a discount, if they promised to tell her all about the party afterwards.
He makes it to the tables and grabs a plate, reading the labels as he goes. He takes one of each food, two if it looks hard to cut into half.
Tiramisu.
Strawberry Apple Baumkuchen.
Beef Wellington Bites.
Matcha Cream Puffs (he takes three of those).
Financier.
Just five years ago he wouldn't have thought it possible for so many types of dessert to exist. Even after living in the city proper for three years, Akutagawa is still having a hard time wrapping his mind around the luxuries on offer.
When his plate is sufficiently full, he weaves his way to where they agreed to meet, next to the windows overlooking the city below. The observatory is tall enough that the last remaining rays of the setting sun still streams in through the large glass panels, while the buildings below gradually sink into darkness. Even with all the factories in the city, the glass is surprisingly clear of soot stains; maybe it had been cleaned recently for this event.
Below the observatory the city sprawls far and wide, the structures near shown in clear detail while those further in the distance blur together. In the middle of the city a tower of gray stone rises slightly above its surroundings - the administration headquarters. Lanterns and candles throughout the city are being lit as night descends, flickering on here and there like ribbons of fireflies in the evening gloom. Brighter spots mark out taverns and inns from their neighbors as the townsfolk gather for a pint of beer and some gossip before heading home. Usually at this time, the lamplighter of their street would've reached their storefront; Atsushi would be waving at him through the shop windows.
From this height, the carriages and their horses rattling across the cobbled streets look unrealistically tiny. The whole scene looks, Akutagawa muses, like a painting or an illustration in a novel, instead of the actual city that he lives in. It's hard to imagine that he spends every day walking in streets he can now barely see, but now and then he sees a familiar landmark. He presses a hand against the glass; maybe without it he would be able to hear the constant din of machinery and hisses of steam, thereby reassuring him that the city he sees before him is the real thing.
"Nice view, isn't it?"
"Yes." Akutagawa glances at Atsushi, who has materialized beside him with a plate similarly laden with food.
"Got you some fig tarts." Holding his plate near Akutagawa's, Atsushi reaches for one of the matcha cream puffs with his fork. "Oh, these are good."
"Thought you might like it." Akutagawa moves one of the fig tarts from Atsushi's plate to his own; he wants to save it for a bit longer. "You can have the rest of them, if you want."
"The cream puffs or the tarts?"
Akutagawa thinks for a moment. "Both."
"Nah, I'll have just one of the tarts." Atsushi grins. "In exchange you can have one of the cream puffs."
"I did get us three of them for a reason."
"So you do want to try them," Atsushi teases.
"...I forget how insufferable you can be, but you always manage to remind me."
"Mmm." Atsushi makes a noncommittal sound, moving on to a tiny cheesecake as he gazes out the window.
From this vantage point they can see more of the city than they usually could. In his mind, Akutagawa picks out some spots they've never been to, like the tall brick bookstore some distance away from their area, or the quiet-looking park hidden between some buildings.
He steals a glance at his partner. Wherever catches Atsushi's attention, he vows silently to himself, they'll visit on their next day off.
"Look." Atsushi points to somewhere in the haze of fog and lamplight. Already marking a date down in his mental calendar, Akutagawa takes a half step back to see where Atsushi is indicating. "That's where we live, right?"
Ah.
"Yes. That's the clock tower at the end of our street." For some reason, his chest hurts, but it isn't an unpleasant feeling.
They eat in relative silence, slowly making their way through the contents of both plates. They do end up making a list of places they would like to go; Atsushi mainly kept a light-hearted tone, but unbeknownst to him Akutagawa has committed the list to his memory.
An airship floats by, hovering over the city like a guardian deity with the form of a blue whale; for a few moments the distinction between sky and sea blurs.
As the last fig tart is finally finished off, a waiter appears at their elbows to take their plates and cutlery away. Her departure is as silent as her arrival.
Outside, light from the setting sun has completely disappeared from the sky. The wide expanse of blue beyond the glass darkens with each passing moment into indigo. Akutagawa looks around the hall; the main event is some time away, so more guests are still filtering in.
“10 o’ clock,” Atsushi says casually, while his gaze is fixed to the globe.
Akutagawa glances in the direction Atsushi picked out, and sees a familiar figure surrounded by others. Popular and boisterous as usual, but then again that was how Dazai got them their invitations.
They wait until the crowd around Dazai has dispersed, then go over to greet him.
“Oh, you two!” Dazai beams, seeing them approach. “More than the meteor shower, I was looking forward to seeing you guys again.”
“Good evening, Dazai-san.”
“Hello, Dazai-san.”
“It’s been awhile since last we met! Tell me,” - Dazai leans in conspiratorially - “how is the partnership going?”
Akutagawa puts on his best glare - no difficult feat at all, since he always has cause to use it. “I cannot stand him.”
Similarly, Atsushi crosses his arms and grumbles a “terribly”, refusing to look at him.
“Ah-ah, that’s troublesome.” Dazai sighs theatrically, in his usual manner. “I’ve heard good things from your customers, too.” A corner of his lips quirk up in a knowing smirk, and Akutagawa is reminded of why Dazai has his grudging respect - he has eyes and ears everywhere. Most of his information comes from people who aren't even aware they are divulging it.
“As long as the results are satisfactory, the process should not matter.” Akutagawa attempts to brush it off.
"Well, good thing I added that instruction on the invitation, then! Or Atsushi would've came alone and be terribly lonely all night." Dazai swipes a strawberry macaron from a passing waiter's tray and pops it into his mouth. "Though I did have to pull quite some favors for them to print it."
At the admittance Atsushi's fingertips twitch a little in mirth. If Akutagawa noticed it, Dazai definitely did too.
"Enjoy the rest of the evening, boys! Though I really do think an observatory further from the lights of the city would've been better suited for tonight's event."
"It's probably dangerous to gather so many important people in the remote countryside," Atsushi comments.
Dazai grins. "It'll be interesting, though."
They take their leave, and as they merge back into the crowd, Akutagawa glances over his shoulder at Dazai. He can't explain why he did it. Dazai meets his gaze - or rather, he never took his eyes off of them - and smiles, a genuine, warm smile free of any ulterior motives. As Dazai raises his glass at him, Akutagawa thinks that there may even be a hint of pride in his eyes.
A complicated tangle of feelings bubbles up in his chest, and he turns back to follow Atsushi.
“We definitely did not fool him.”
“No,” Atsushi agrees. “But it was still fun, though.”
"Your definition of fun is strange."
"Are you disagreeing with me?"
"...No."
"Nakajima!" A voice calls out, and a rowdy group of young men Akutagawa doesn't recognize crowds around them. They greet him with a little trepidation; at least his reputation precedes him.
Apparently they know Atsushi from a club he's in. Akutagawa isn't the most sociable person, so their talk loses him fairly quickly; he occupies himself with watching the globe spin, not even pretending to be engaged in the conversation.
He turns back only to see them urging a fourth glass of champagne on Atsushi. "This is the last one, okay?" Atsushi smiles helplessly as he downs it, to cheers. The rest of them aren't even drinking anymore.
"Come on, one more!" The loudest one grins, throwing an arm around Atsushi. "For Smithson's new shop in Petrichor Square!"
"Oh!" Atsushi exclaims. His cheeks are a little pink but he still looks sober enough. "A branch opening?"
"Yes!" The young man grabs another champagne flute off a waiter and hands it to Atsushi again. "Let's toast its success! What's one more?"
Atsushi looks like he would rather not, but he lifts the glass anyway. He's always been bad at saying no to things, especially when they are without malicious intent.
And that's where he comes in, Akutagawa supposes.
He takes the glass from Atsushi firmly, but gently. "He said enough." Then, in an attempt to keep things civil for the sake of his partner, he adds: "Gentlemen."
He downs the contents of the glass in one go. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Atsushi's aghast face.
Akutagawa hands the empty glass to the young man, one brow raised. As the atmosphere chills to a temperature similar to the champagne, the group retreats, mumbling out 'have a pleasant evening' and 'it was nice meeting you' as they go.
"Did they think this place's a tavern or something?" Akutagawa mutters and turns back to his partner. Seeing the worry still on Atsushi's face he looks to the floor. "...Sorry. I seem to have scared them off."
Though if Atsushi's planning on lecturing him, he can take it; he has his own lecture about being too nice prepared after that.
"Ah, who gives a damn about them." Akutagawa's mind - getting fuzzier by the second - stumbles over 'damn' and 'them' before registering what Atsushi's saying. "I'm more worried about you."
"Me?"
"Yeah, dumbass." Atsushi lifts an entire plate off a passing waitress' tray, much to her astonishment. "Sorry, I'd like a glass of water too, please." This he says to the bewildered waitress, who now has to restock her tray.
"I'm fine." Akutagawa huffs. "Why have you gotten a plateful of bread?"
"Well, bread helps soak up the alcohol in the system... or so I've heard."
"I said I was fine." To prove his point Akutagawa reaches for the pastry nearest to him, only for his fingers to close around air. He blinks and stares at his empty hand in confusion - there should be a bun in his grasp. He frowns. Atsushi sighs.
There's a glass of water in Atsushi's hand; Akutagawa didn't even see it arrive. Maybe he isn't fine after all.
Atsushi looks about to ask Akutagawa to hold the plate, then thinks better of it and sets it down on a nearby table, balanced precariously on the space beside a lamp. The glass he does hand to Akutagawa, and after making sure he's holding it firmly with both hands, Atsushi lets go and rummages in his suit pocket.
He draws out a little paper package and as Akutagawa looks on in bewilderment, shakes its powdery contents into the glass. They watch as the blue powder dissolves into the water.
"What is this?" Akutagawa asks, frowning at the way his words are slurring. This is why he avoids drinking as much as he can.
"It should help you sober up a bit." Atsushi puts the paper square back into his suit pocket. "I got it from the apothecary."
"Why would you be carrying it around?"
"Because you're a lightweight, and I thought it'd be useful to have around if you ever had to drink. I just - " here Atsushi looks embarrassed and apologetic, " - didn't think I'd be the reason. Sorry."
Akutagawa sighs. "Where would I be without you?"
Atsushi perks up at that, and grins sheepishly. "A lot less drunk, probably."
Akutagawa weighs his options as best he can, with his currently sluggish mind. Rationally he should avoid speaking until the medicine kicks in, lest he says something he regrets.
But what about the things he will regret not saying?
“I think that’s why we’re stuck together, Akutagawa.” Atsushi says, interrupting his train of thought.
“So I can be drunk in your stead?”
“There’s more than just that, of course!” Atsushi picks up the plate of bread before it can slide off the table. “You’re smart and careful, and manages our accounts flawlessly. You pay attention to details more than I could ever hope to. You put your foot down against difficult customers when I can’t. You're a terrific cook and I look forward to our meals everyday. And… even if you don’t show it, I know you care a great deal.” Grinning at the blush blossoming on Akutagawa’s cheeks, Atsushi continues gleefully, “I’d be a mess without you around, Akutagawa.”
Atsushi always has a mischievous streak in him; it seems that alcohol brings it out more.
“O-Oh.” Akutagawa looks down into his glass, as the blue-tinged water swirls around. “…You do look out for me too.” The things he will regret not saying… “I… I’ve always wanted to say thanks.”
“Something resembling affection from the Akutagawa Ryuunosuke?” Atsushi presses a hand to his own chest dramatically. “You must be really drunk then. Drink the medicine before you fall over, please.” But Akutagawa can see the pink on his partner’s cheeks mirroring his own, which has nothing to do with four glasses of champagne. He takes it as a win.
“Shut up,” Akutagawa growls, but complies nonetheless. His head clears a little after one-third of the contents.
“Now,” Atsushi says nonchalantly as he guides them to the stairs to the first floor, “do you still mean what you said?”
Akutagawa glares at him. “Yes, but it’s subject to change depending on what you do.”
“Fair enough.” Lowering his voice, Atsushi continues: “Think you can handle the stairs?”
Akutagawa nods, and they make their way to their allocated balcony box. It’s a relatively small space, but they can see a wide swath of the night sky from here. The globe continues its slow spin, showing them the outline of North Pole in detail before them. Below them guests are also starting to climb the stairs to their boxes, while some choose to stay on the floor for a bit longer.
Thick red curtains surround their little balcony; the dimness of the space reminds Akutagawa of one of those new cinemas. Pulling the curtains shut muffles the footsteps in the passageway outside their balcony.
They chat on and off while the hour of the meteor shower slowly approaches, in the privacy of their balcony. Here, they are no longer prodigious watchmakers, newcomers to the trade that people should look out for, but just Atsushi and Akutagawa, two friends attending a party neither of them quite belong to, so they stick together.
“You’re eating more bread than I am.”
“It’s not like you can finish all of them anyway.”
It’s pleasant.
Some time later the lights in the party hall dim; the North Pole of the globe disappears into the resulting darkness. Even in the gloom, they can sense the excited thrill in the atmosphere, charging the air with an electrical buzz. Swayed by the tension Akutagawa finds himself looking up at the sky along with the rest of the guests.
There are still only a few pinpricks of light in the inky sky, due to the lamplight coming from the city. Maybe the smoke from the factories running almost all day played a part in it too. Akutagawa wonders how far the smoke from their city can reach into the heavens, tainting even the stars.
Something white streaks past one corner of the skies. It happened so quickly, he would’ve thought he imagined it, if Atsushi hadn’t raised a hand to point excitedly at the exact spot he saw the first meteor of the night.
“Did you see that, Akutagawa?”
“Yes,” Akutagawa replies quietly, looking at Atsushi’s hand outstretched towards the sky like he’s reaching for the stars. “Yes, I did.”
Those hands working patiently at the inner mechanisms of timepieces, calm and steady and unwavering, giving their customers more than their money’s worth. Akutagawa thinks no price tag can do Atsushi’s handiwork justice.
Those hands putting a blanket over his shoulders whenever he falls asleep at his desk, making sure he stays warm. Sometimes Akutagawa is aware enough to feel how they linger a moment longer on him than strictly necessary.
Those hands fumbling with the pots and pans in their little kitchen, because every so often Atsushi will insist on preparing a meal. Akutagawa lets him, watching from the dining table as Atsushi peers at a recipe he has scrawled in his notebook. The carrot slices Atsushi cuts are misshapen and awkward, but neither of them minded one bit.
Atsushi lets his arm fall back to his side as they watch the meteor shower in silent awe. Akutagawa feels a little silly for having thought of all that. Maybe it's the alcohol in his system making him think all these useless sentimental thoughts. You're using the single glass of champagne as a scapegoat for an awful lot of things, aren't you?
He doesn't reply to the voice. Instead, he inches his hand closer to Atsushi's, until their knuckles are touching. He feels Atsushi's hand twitch in surprise, and Akutagawa's heart skips a beat. What if he pulls away..? he thinks, despite himself.
Another meteor streaks through the sky, gone before one could even get a good look. It wasn't as flashy as a firework, bursting loudly in a myriad of colors carefully selected to be stunning and memorable. A meteor burns silently, and disintegrates into the atmosphere with no one the wiser. Whether it will be remembered hinges on the time of a few seconds.
He stares pointedly at the sky, willing for more meteors so he can be absorbed in something else, and not the way he can hear nothing besides his heartbeat. Atsushi doesn't look at him, but Akutagawa feels the back of Atsushi's hand pressing against his own.
Oh.
Akutagawa allows a slightly embarrassed smile to creep up his lips. It'd feel wrong to hold back, to not live in this moment. That's what his partner does, after all. Regardless of how he should be behaving, Atsushi always lives life regardless of constraints. Akutagawa had been envious of him at the start, but after a few months of partnership he began to realize there's no longer anything keeping him from living the same way.
He commits the current moment to his memory: standing beside his closest friend in the gloom, away from everyone else, watching rocks from the heavens burn in the atmosphere, leaving a brief but brilliant trail. Their hands pressed together, resting comfortably against each other.
Maybe someday they'll hold hands properly, fingers intertwined. Maybe not.
Maybe someday they'll be something more than friends. Maybe not.
But that's okay.
He's learned that there are more ways than one to be in love, to love a person.
For now, he's content, and that's all that matters.