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The water laps softly at his shoes, swirling around his feet; the wind ruffles his hair. In front of him, the ocean stretches as far and wide as the eye could see, a rich orange before the setting sun. Atsushi closes his eyes, listening to the soft crash of the waves against sand.
"You have a lot of free time, don't you."
Atsushi turns towards the voice. "Akutagawa?" He’s standing further away from the shore, looking down at him with a mix of curiosity and annoyance. “It's after my working hours. So you know of this beach too.”
“In a sense,” Akutagawa replies vaguely. “Though I don’t come here often. Just passing by.”
Under normal circumstances Atsushi would’ve wanted to escape immediately - this is Port Mafia’s hell-hound he’s talking to, after all. Not that long ago they had been trying to kill each other. “Why not? This seems like such a nice place to take walks on. Even you would need to unwind after… your missions.”
"I don't like the sea breeze."
“When you live in a port city?”
Akutagawa doesn’t reply. Atsushi sighs and moves his gaze away; something behind him catches his attention. “Look.”
His footsteps have all been washed away, leaving nothing but smooth sand. Atsushi takes a few more steps along the shore and the waves lap up the new traces almost instantly.
"It's a bit sad, isn't it? Like I never existed."
"Not to me, definitely." Akutagawa coughs softly into a fist. "I wouldn't have taken you for the sentimental type."
"As if you would know the difference between sentimental and weakness." Atsushi retorts, as Akutagawa carefully walks over. White sand sticks to his dark boots.
The hem of Akutagawa's coat ripples gently, keeping out of reach of the seawater.
“Afraid of getting Rashoumon wet, hell-hound?”
Akutagawa reaches an arm out, and, very casually, tries to shove him into the water.
"Woah-" Atsushi reaches out desperately, fingers closing around a fistful of black fabric. Good - if he's going down he's bringing the perpetrator with him.
“What-” Black tendrils snake out from the coat lightning fast, digging into the sand and somehow maintaining the pair’s balance. Atsushi imagines they’d look like some messed-up spider from afar. And- oh, is that Rashoumon around his waist?
"Tch." Once they're both properly back upright Akutagawa looks away in annoyance. He retracts Rashoumon's tendrils, which are - much to his endless irritation - wet from being in the water. "Look at what you've done."
"I- Don't ‘tch’ me! You started it!" Atsushi points an accusatory finger at him. "Why did you do that!"
"I felt like it."
“I cannot believe you.”
They walk in silence for a little, side by side. It’s a bit weird to be walking beside Akutagawa of all people, but Atsushi finds that it’s not entirely bad.
He looks back to see how far they’ve gone, and see Akutagawa’s footsteps beside his, right before they’re consumed by the waves.
Oh.
He turns back to see Akutagawa looking at him, one brow raised questioningly.
“I-It’s nothing!” Atsushi chuckles, embarrassed. Then: “Wait, let me show you something cool.”
“?”
“Come on.” Atsushi walks further into the water. “Stand here. Come on! You’re the one with the tall boots!”
The water reaches up above their ankles. As the wave recedes, Atsushi watches with glee as Akutagawa’s face goes from mild irritation to confusion. “What was that?”
“Feels like we’re the ones moving backwards, right?”
“...Yeah.”
“It’s weird and cool, but I don’t know what it’s called.”
“What do you mean you don’t know?” Akutagawa glares.
"I just wanted to show you!" Atsushi holds up his hands. “Well I can always search it up... Or try…”
“You better.” Crossing his arms, Akutagawa stares at the water around his feet and gives it an experimental kick.
"I'll message you what I find." Atsushi holds out his hand without thinking. "Come on, I'll write down my number. Wait, do you already have it?"
“Of course not.” Surprisingly, Akutagawa hands over his phone without much of a fuss. "...This feels like some elaborate ploy to get my number, weretiger."
"I- It's not!" Atsushi fumbles with the old model in his hands, looking for the contact list. "Ah, here we go."
There's fewer numbers listed than he expected: Gin, Higuchi, Nakahara along with some mafia higher-ups and... Dazai. Ah. Atsushi types in his number and saves it as 'Nakajima Atsushi', because he isn't sure Akutagawa remembers his name, and he wants him to.
"Done." He hands the phone back.
Akutagawa presses a few buttons then shows Atsushi the screen. "Correct?"
He's added 'Weretiger' in brackets after 'Nakajima Atsushi'.
"...Yeah." Though the fact that he's left his name untouched makes him a little happy.
Akutagawa calls his number and Atsushi pulls out his phone to stop the ringing. "I'm the only one with a nickname on your contact list." He grins, saving the number under a sensible 'Akutagawa'. "What's with the special treatment?"
"...Shut up. Also don't send me weird meaningless things.” Akutagawa tilts his head, thinking. “Don’t send me anything else, actually. Delete my number after you find out the thing with the waves."
"Psh, don't tell me what to do. I'm not that free anyway."
Akutagawa’s phone vibrates once. He reads the message silently, then says: "I have to go now.”
“Alright.” With a start Atsushi realizes that he’s a little sorry to see Akutagawa go. “It’s been… nice. Maybe we can do something similar some other day? Hang out somewhere else?” What is he saying? What is he saying? “Since you don’t like the sea breeze…”
Akutagawa’s eyes widen at that. He probably doesn’t get many invitations to hang out. "Maybe." His expression softens into something neutral instead of its usual disgruntlement.
Only now it's impossible.
Atsushi cannot think of a single way Akutagawa could’ve escaped the ship alive.
It's another sunset. Today's is especially beautiful: purples and pinks and oranges in wide swathes, like the confident strokes of an artist that knows what they're doing. The sun bathes the underside of the nearby clouds in its last rays, and the sea appears darker around the brilliance of the spectacle.
Atsushi brings up his message history with Akutagawa. There isn't a lot of things; a couple of links he managed to find about the phenomenon with the waves, and some check-marks from the other end to signal that Akutagawa has seen the messages. It's just like him not to reply.
Atsushi takes a picture of the sunset and sends it. He regrets it almost immediately - now he has to watch day after day how it'll never be seen by the other side.
"And it's a nice photo, too..."
He stares across the ocean as the sun sinks deeper under the horizon. It's so quiet.
To lose him out at sea... it's ironic, really.
He doesn't think he'd be able to ever walk on this beach without being reminding of what could've been.
Maybe... maybe he'll take a stroll here one last time, in memory of his partner. He starts walking.
It hurts.
He can stay here forever with his memories.
He can't.
Atsushi looks at the footprints behind him: fading each time the sea reaches for the land, and missing something beside them. Another set.
It hurts.
The sun sets fully, and light gray takes over. How long has he been here? He hasn't been keeping track.
"I told you not to send me random things, didn't I?"
Atsushi stops dead in his tracks. No.
On the beach is a familiar figure, silhouetted by the lights of the city. He's standing further up the beach - just like last time - boots sinking a little into the dry powdery sand.
"But that's how you found me, right?" Atsushi manages a shaky smile, even as his mind races almost as fast as his heart.
"Hmph." Akutagawa smiles.
Atsushi leaves the edge of the sea, joining Akutagawa where the water doesn't reach and their footprints stay for just a while longer.