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Winter had set in, and it seemed the cold had driven all the criminals underground because work at the agency was slow. Atsushi rested his head on his arms, watching Dazai fold bits of paper into intricate shapes to throw at Kunikida’s head.
‘Hey!’ Everyone turns to look at Ranpo who holds up an empty chip packet, ‘who’s next up for the snack run?’
Atsushi scrambles to his feet,’ I can go.’ He’s terribly bored and Kunikida looks like he is getting ready to murder Dazai. Atsushi would rather go shopping then be a witness to a homicide. He pulls on the grey coat Dazai had given him a week ago after he came into work with blue lips. Yosano had adjusted them hem so that it didn’t drag on the ground behind him. ‘Does anyone else want anything,’ Atsushi askes once he was ready.
The room becomes deafening as everyone starts shouting out the snacks they want. Atsushi resists the urge to smack a hand to his forehead, he should have known better than to ask everyone at once. A few minutes later the noise has died down and Kunikida passes a detailed shopping list to Atsushi.
Stepping out onto the street is a shock to his body and the wind snatches at his hair. He bundles his coat closer to his body and starts walking towards the shopping district. Passing cars splash water onto the pavement as they drive through puddles. Atsushi idly wonders, as he avoids being drenched by another car, if it will snow soon.
He’s lost in thought until the hair on the back of his neck stands up. It feels like someone is watching him. He pulls out the snack list while he walks and pretends to study it, glancing out the corner of his eye to see if there is anyone obviously following him. There’s a kid running ahead of his mother pulling his mother towards a sweet shop and an old man waiting by a bus stop. Appearances don’t mean much but none of them feel dangerous.
He tucks the list away in his pocket, far more weary of every person he passes. The feeling of being followed doesn’t go away and it makes his mouth dry.
He keeps all his shopping bags in one hand, leaving the other hand free to defend at a moments notice. He makes sure there is always a wall blocking his back when he stands still to minimise the chance of someone sneaking up on him. He occasionally spins around abruptly, hoping to catch the stalker off guard but all it achieves is frightening a shop employee.
Despite the rolling anxiety in his stomach nothing happens. There isn’t an attack or a confrontation. There is no proof he is being followed other than a gut feeling. By the time he can see the agency his nerves are shot, and his shoulders hurt from being scrunched up by his ears. He gets to the door of the building and the feeling of being watched vanishes.
He dumps the bags onto a free desk for his co-workers to swarm, waving off their gratitude. The weretiger collapses into his chair next to Dazai. The older man looks at him with a raised eyebrow, ‘eventful shopping trip?’
Atsushi considers telling him about the feeling of being watched but now, in the warm safety of the office, he feels paranoid and childish. He forces a smile onto his face, ‘not at all.’
Dazai takes an exaggerated bit out of his taiyaki, not taking his eyes on Atsushi. The younger man ignores him and lays his head back on his arms. The anxiety drains from his system leaving him exhausted. He settles in for a nap, listening to the others bicker and laugh amongst themselves.
The next morning, he had forgotten all about the shopping trip until he locks the door to his apartment. Kyouka had come down with cold and was staying at home, leaving him to walk to work by himself. Immediately he feels someone’s eyes on him again.
The anxiety is back and he nearly walks into a lamp post because he is focused on what’s behind him instead of where he is going. The feeling stays with him until he gets to the agency doors and then, like yesterday, the feeling of being watched goes away.
Just as the day before work is painstakingly slow. The most exciting thing is when Dazai walks into work in slip slops and holding his coat in one hand. Apparently, hyperthermia is a tedious and painful way to go.
The president takes pity on his employees and allows them to leave work an hour early. Alone, Atsushi trudges home to his apartment. As expected the feeling of being watched starts up a black away from the agency. He sighs, his breath condenses in front of his nose, he would rather not go a third day of this. Mind made up, he abruptly changes direction, heading to the Yokohama park. Naked branches twist above his head, creaking as the wind buffets them around. There’s less people for a stalker to behind and the decaying leaves on the ground make it difficult to walk silently.
A twig snapping behind him let’s Atsushi know that someone is definitely following him. He curls his hands into fists, his nails biting into the skin. He isn’t sure who is following him but he hopes they will be easy to fight if the occasion arises. The chances of backup arriving is low. No one knows he has taken a different route home and its unlikely Kyouka would report him missing since she might think he is on a stake out or some other kind of mission. The wind cools the sweat beading on his forehead. He’s beginning to regret leading his stalker into an isolated place.
His heart is thudding against his ribs, and he startles when a bird bursts out of a nearby hedge. He’s been learning to trust his instincts more and right now they are screaming at him to get out. A leaf crumbles under the weight of someone’s shoe. They are a lot closer to Atsushi now but he can’t pin point their exact location. He’s almost dizzy with anticipation when he hears a muffled cough come from behind him.
A cough he is very, very familiar with.
The fear leaves his body and anger heats up his chest. Leave it to Akutagawa to ruin Atsushi’s last two days because he likes to show up where he’s not wanted. Atsushi does some maths in his head as he stomps back down the path towards where the cough came from. There is still a truce between the Mafia and the agency, a truce that Dazai helped set up, so its unlikely that Akutagawa is following Atsushi around just to murder him when the urge strikes. He’s a mystery to Atsushi but that’s nothing new. The other man is further away from Atsushi than he thought but he doesn’t hesitate to round a large tree, nearly bumping into Akutagawa in his haste to confront him.
Akutagawa doesn’t seem alarmed or guilty to be discovered. He keep his arms crossed over his chest and frowns at Atsushi like he’s the one doing something unreasonable. His cool exterior does not help Atsushi’s rising anger.
‘Why are you following me?’
Akutagawa lifts his chin stubbornly, ‘I’m not.’
Atsushi gapes at him, ‘you are hiding behind a tree in the same park that I’m walking through. That’s called following.’ He tucks his hands under his arms, mimicking Akutagawa’s stance.
‘This is a public space I have every right to be here and I’m not hiding,’ Akutagawa defends. ‘The path is muddy and I would rather not walk on it.’ He eyes Atsushi’s dirty shoes in disgust.
Atsushi is hit with the urge to punch him the face but he ignores it. He doesn’t want to start a fight as much as he thinks Akutagawa deserves it. ‘Why would you want to walk in the park anyway? You hate nature and all the other good things in life.’
‘I don’t.’
Atsushi glares at him, ‘The last mission we went on you pushed a pot plant off a table for no reason.’
Akutagawa coughs into the palm of his hand. ‘It was an ugly plant.’
Atsushi just stares at the mafioso. He lifts a hand and pinches the bridge of his nose. Akutagawa is stubborn and Atsushi does not want to spend the next hour arguing with him. The mystery of his stalker is solved and there is nothing he can do without breaking the tentative truce. It doesn’t make the situation less frustrating though.
‘Fine,’ he bites out, ‘fine. Enjoy your nature walk that you love so much. I’m going home.’ He begins to turn around before pausing and pointing at Akutagawa, ‘do not follow me back.’
‘I’m not following you.’
Atsushi opens with mouth to retort but a gust of wind burrows through the seams of his coat. Proving a point is not worth freezing to death. He shakes his head and starts to retreat. Pick your battles and hyperthermia is a bad way to die, Atsushi tells himself, especially if the person you are to die with is Akutagawa.
The mafioso let’s out a hacking cough as Atsushi walks away. He grimaces at how painful it sounds but he keeps his eyes glued to the path in front of him. The coughing stops abruptly and then there is a thud. The sound is enough for Atsushi to look over his shoulder to see what is going on. His heart drops at the sight.
Akutagawa is lying face first on the path and he doesn’t move when Atsushi calls out to him. The detective starts going back towards his sometimes-partner when he feels a sting in his neck. He automatically reached up to check what damage as been done when he feels the distinctive feathers of a dart.
The world spins and the soggy ground rushes up to meet him. He tries to move but it feels like his limbs have sunk into the earth. Black spots dance in front of his eyes, growing larger until they completely eclipse the light and then his awareness is gone.
It feels like a metal rods are being skewered into every joint in his body. His stomach rolls and his head is splitting open. It feels like the floor is vibrating. The floor is vibrating. Atsushi’s eyes fly open but there’s nothing but inky blackness. The knot of anxiety makes the nausea worse and Atsushi has to screw up his eyes and breathe deeply to avoid throwing up.
Gradually the squirming of his stomach settles down to a more manageable level. He carefully and methodically takes stock of his body. The very marrow of his bones ache but it doesn’t feel like there are any open wounds. His head is sore and coupled with the nausea he’s probably concussed. He still can’t see but now that his panic has subsided he can feel fabric wrapped around his head. Good, that means blind folded not blind. His hands are restrained behind his back and his right hip throbs, letting him know he has been lying on his side for a while.
He strains his hearing, trying to figure out where he is and if anyone is nearby. It takes him a moment to place the clacking sounds but he figures out that he’s on a train quickly enough. That explains the vibrating floor. He can hear someone’s labored breathing.
‘Akutagawa,’ he whispers. Dazai would probably smack Atsushi for his stupidity. His captors could be in the same carriage as him in which case he gave away the fact that he is awake and aware but knowing if Akutagawa is with him is more important.
‘Jinko?’
Atsushi breaths a sigh of relief and hums in acknowledgment. ‘Are you blind folded as well?’
‘Yes.’
‘And handcuffed?’
‘Yes.’
Atsushi opens his mouth to say something but the sound of distant footsteps cuts him off. They are getting louder. Atsushi lays his head back down on the floor. ‘Don’t try kill anyone,’ he whispers to Akutagawa. He doesn’t receive a response.
The footsteps just out carriage. The sound is sharper than Atsushi would expect. Steal-toed boots make the same sound and his stomach muscles tense at the thought. Atsushi forces his muscles to relax. He hopes that its just a routine check and Akutagawa won’t do anything stupid. The door the carriage slides open, and the thudding feet walk into the room. They circle closer to the pair and Atsushi can hear his own heart pick up speed.
There’s a rustle of clothes as the person moves around. Atsushi can feel the now familiar sensation of someone watching him. He keeps his breathing as deep and even as possible. The person yawns, cracks their knuckles and walks away, satisfied with the state of the prisoners. The door closes and the footsteps retreat.
Atsushi let’s his breath go in a whoosh. Akutagawa’s own breathing is now coming in quick wheezes and Atsushi can only assume he’s managing his anger at not being able to impale their captor. Atsushi rolls his eyes behind the blindfold, only Akutagawa could make sparing someone’s life seem like a frustrating task.
He pushes his irritation down and starts forming a plan to get out. The longer they are on the train the further away they get from Yokohama and the more likely it becomes that they won’t get away at all. The first thing is to get out of the restraints. The handcuffs are tight around Atsushi’s wrists and have already started to cut into the delicate skin. Rashoumon should be able to bite through the chains easily.
‘You need to cut our handcuffs,’ Atsushi instructs the other man.
‘No.’
Atsushi blinks in surprise, ‘no?’
Akutagawa scoffs, ‘it’s not a big word, Jinko, you shouldn’t get confused by it.’
‘But why,’ Atsushi whisper-shouts, ‘are you really that petty that you refuse to help me. Now is not the time for you to have a temper tantrum.’
‘I am not and he answer is still no.’
‘Why?’
‘I do not owe you an explanation.’
Atsushi grinds his teeth together. ‘You’re wasting time.’
‘Why don’t you break out then?’ Akutagawa sounds frustrated and his breathing is still elevated.
‘Because,’ Atsushi snaps, ’I’ll need to transform my arms, which means they will get bigger and the cuffs will cut into me before they break.’
‘You’ll survive.’
‘Or you can stop being a selfish bastard and cut us both out and then neither of us needs to get hurt,’ although Atsushi might deck the mafioso as soon it’s possible but he keeps that information to himself.
‘I can’t.’
Scratch that, Atsushi is going to strangle him when he gets free. This argument is going in a circle, and they are wasting time. Every second increases the chance of discovery. ‘Just cut through the fucking handcuffs,’ Atsushi grits out.
‘I can’t,’ Akutagawa snarls loudly, ‘they took my fucking clothes!’
Oh.
’Everything?’
’Yeah.’
Guilt washes of Atsushi. Everything starts to click together. Akutagawa wasn’t angry he was frightened and defenceless. He lacks Rashoumon and protection from the cold.
‘Ok…That’s ok,’ Atsushi isn’t sure if he is trying to comfort himself or Akutagawa, ‘I’ll get us out and we’ll go from there.’
‘Whatever.’ It’s strained and surprisingly soft. Atsushi’s guilt increases considerably.
Atsushi tugs lightly on his cuffs, gauging how thick the metal is. They are thick enough that Atsushi knows he is going to have to brace himself to face the pain without making a noise. He wiggles on his side, catching the shoulder of his coat on the ground and slowly the sleeves move down his arms where they become tangled in the cuffs, but now they shouldn’t burst open when his arms transform. He takes a deep breath and lets the tiger’s power rush down his arms. He can feel his muscles tighten and thicken and then the agony starts.
The cuffs creak as they cut through muscles and rub against the ligaments in his wrists. His hands are becoming wet from blood and the feeling is dangerously familiar. He forces his way through the pain until he feels the cuffs break and the metal rings stop rubbing against exposed nerves.
His head swims as he sits up, but he tugs off the blindfold, blinking in the dim light of the train carriage. As soon as the spots clear from his vision, he is moving towards the mafioso.
Akutagawa is curled up on his side, whether for warmth or modesty Atsushi isn’t sure. He drapes his coat over the others body, hiding protruding ribs and translucent skin. He takes a hold of Akutagawa’s hands, mindful of cutting him with his claws, and snaps the chain between the cuffs.
Akutagawa immediately scrambles upright, pulling of his own blind fold. He looks grey and his eyes are so wide that Atsushi wants to say something to help him but he can’t think of anything. He stands up and moves towards the door, keeping a look out while Akutagawa makes himself less vulnerable.
‘We need to leave,’ Akutagawa says after a few moments.
Atsushi turns to face his partner, deeming them safe for now. Akutagawa has done up every button on the coat, the bottom of the sleeves are torn with flecks of red but they aren’t as destroyed at Atsushi’s dress shirt. Rashoumon’s head lingers behind his shoulder and, for the first time, the sight of the black beast settles some of Atsushi’s nerves.
‘We can go straight through the wall of the train,’ Atsushi places a hand on the metal, feeling the vibration generated from the train’s movement. ‘The landing will hurt but its better than waiting for whoever took us to realize we’re free.’
Akutagawa bows his head in agreement. ‘Don’t slow me down.’
Atsushi’s lips jerk into a smile. ‘Same to you.’
Rashoumon’s tendrils solidify into sharp spikes, slamming into the wall and breaking it apart without hesitation. The frigid air from outside barges into the room and the dark landscape rushes past in a blur. They are passing through a forest which will at least offer them some cover.
Akutagawa jumps out, Rashoumon protecting him from the landing, just as Atsushi starts to hear pounding foot falls running to the carriage. Atsushi leaps out of the train. His striped feet hit gravel and he rolls with the impact. It’s jarring and disorientating but sways upright and starts running.
There’s some shouting and then a gun firing. It takes him a second to register the sharp burst of agony in his shoulder, but he keeps moving, rushing through thick foliage and tripping on tangled roots. The cold air stings the inside of his nose. He cuts through the forest, searching for Akutagawa as he runs.
There’s a whistle to his left and he serves in the same direction, nearly falling on top of Akutagawa as he breaks into a clearing. The mafioso is doubled over, coughing between pants. It might be a trick of the light, but Atsushi is sure he can see blood on the corner of his mouth.
He can still make out the sound of the train. ‘Come on,’ he grabs Akutagawa’s left arm, pulling it over his shoulders and wincing as pressure is put on his bullet wound. He hauls Akutagawa forward, supporting some of the others weight while he continues to hack up a lung. The wet coughing sounds too loud in the empty forest.
Atsushi isn’t sure for how long they run but eventually they come to a stop. Akutagawa sinks onto a large tree root while Atsushi just collapses on the ground. It’s damp and uncomfortable. He spreads out his arms as he stares up at the cloud-choked sky, chest heaving as he gasps for air.
‘Did you get shot?’
Atsushi rolls his head to the side until he can meet Akutagawa’s eyes. ‘Yeah,’ he pulls the neck of his shirt to the side to look at the injury, ‘but there’s an exit wound so its fine.’
Akutagawa nods, closing his eyes and visibly regrouping himself. Slowly he staggers back to his feet. It’s strange seeing only one layer of clothing on the taller man, leaving the pale skin of his legs and wrists visible to anyone. The mafioso is shaking but he doesn’t say if its from the cold or adrenalin. He waits for Atsushi to get up before he starts walking out of the clearing. He’s hiding a limp, probably from the myriad of scratches and puncture wounds on his bare feet. Atsushi doesn’t have any shoes to lend him.
‘Do you know where we are going,’ Atsushi asks.
‘No,’ Akutagawa looks at him, ‘do you have a better idea.’
‘I guess not.’
The pair of them trudge through the forest for at least an hour before they stumble upon a little roadside rest stop where they manage to find a phone and call a taxi. Sitting in the warm car, pressed up against opposite windows, the exhaustion really starts to catch up to both of them. Atsushi can barely keep his eyes open as they start driving through the well-lit streets of Yokohama.
The taxi rolls to a stop, pulling Atsushi out of his half-asleep state. He peers out the window and doesn’t immediately recognize the street they are on. Akutagawa told the taxi driver where to go and Atsushi had been too tired to really pay attention, something he is starting to regret.
‘Come on,’ Akutagawa reaches across the seats to grab the back of Atsushi’s shirt and drags him out of the taxi. The weretiger is too bewildered to put up any sort of a fight. He looks at the tall building in front of him, ‘is this where you live?’
‘Yeah.’
Maybe he should be more concerned that he is in the heart of Port Mafia territory but at this point Mori himself could toss him in a cell and he would comply as long as he got to sleep and take some weight off his aching feet.
The lobby is bright, and Atsushi considers just curling up on the patterned carpet and going to sleep but anytime his steps noticeably slow Akutagawa growls and shoves his him forward.
They make it to the apartment. Atsushi watches Akutagawa unlock the door with blurry eyes. The mafioso mumbles something about being allowed to use the couch before he disappears deeper into the home.
Its delightfully warm and Atsushi falls onto the large couch in the sitting area, pulling the blanket from the back of it to wrap around himself. For a moment he worries about getting the leather bloody or dirty but its black and he’s asleep before he can do anything about it.
He can smell tea by the time he wakes up, something flowery and sweet. He pries his eyes open and looks at the blurry figure sitting on the opposite couch. It’s not Akutagawa and a jolt of fear fires down his spine forcing him to sit up right.
The girl cocks her head to the side, watching him from behind her hair. She leans forward towards the coffee table between them and pushes a cup of tea towards him. ‘Ryuu’s not awake yet, but I thought you might like some tea.’
Atsushi continues to stare at her until it clicks that she’s Akutagawa’s little sister. ‘Oh,’ he reaches forward to grasp the cup and pull it closer to him, ‘thank you.’
The surface of the tea ripples as he blows on it. The scent is mesmerizing and familiar and he tries to place where he recognizes it from. He must have been staring at the tea for too long because Gin flushes slightly and bows her head. ‘I didn’t poison it or anything.’
It doesn’t sound like she’s joking and it confuses him for a moment before he remembers that he is sitting opposite an assassin in the apartment of the man who has tried to kill him countless times. She looks upset at his apparent mistrust and he scrambles to correct the misunderstanding. ‘No, no it’s not that I just thought it smelt familiar and admittedly I’m still a bit tired so I must have gotten distracted,’ he quickly takes a sip of the tea. It soothes his throat and leaves the after taste of honey on his tongue.
Gin offers him a hesitant smile, never quite meeting his eyes. She fiddles with the handle of her own cup, ‘do you think the Circus will come looking for you two again?’
Atsushi cocks his head the side. ‘The Circus?’
‘The people who took you two. You don’t know about them?’
Atsushi shakes his head slowly.
‘Of course, he wouldn’t tell you what was going on,’ Gin mutters. Atsushi isn’t sure if he was meant to hear that, so he doesn’t comment on it. Gin tucks a lock of ink-coloured hair behind her ear. ‘They’re an organization that moved into the outskirts of Yokohama. They collect those with abilities and have them join and underground fighting ring.’ She looks up at Atsushi, ‘they wanted you.’
‘Me?’
Gin nods, ‘the Black Lizard gathered intel and Mori didn’t consider them a threat, but we knew they were planning to try get you. My brother decided he should follow you, make sure you always had back up in case they attacked.’ She shakes her head, smiling sadly, ‘it was a stupid idea. He shouldn’t be out in the cold for that long.’
Atsushi openly gapes at her. ‘He was trying to protect me? That doesn’t sound like him at all!’
She holds a hand to her mouth to muffle her laugh. ‘Don’t get me wrong, his exact words were: If he gets captured then I can’t kill him. It’s the thought that counts.’
That startles a laugh out of him, ‘it sounds a bit more believable.’ Atsushi’s laughter fades and he grows more serious as he lowers his half-empty cup. ‘Do the members have abilities as well?’
‘Yeah. I’m not certain about all of them but one could see the details of another person’s ability.’ Her shoulders hunch forward, ‘I guess that how they knew what to do with Ryuu.’ The cup shakes in her white-knuckled grip, ‘he won’t say it to you but…thank you for helping him.’
‘From what you’ve said it kind of sounds like I owed him a favour anyway.’
She hums in agreement, both of them go silent for a few beats. Gin stands up from her chair, ‘He’ll be waking up soon, I suggest you leave before that happens.’ Atsushi nods in agreement, he doesn’t want to see if whatever truce they had last night still exists now. Draining the last of his tea he gets to his feet, letting Gin take his cup from him and following her to the kitchen.
‘Oh,’ she turns back around to face him, ‘your coat’s on the rack by the door.’
Atsushi looks towards the mahogany door to see the grey coat neatly hanging up and cleaner than when he last saw it although the tears in the sleeves are still there. Gin walks back out of the kitchen empty-handed. Atsushi bows towards her, ‘thank you.’
Gin waves him off then starts ushering him towards the door. He grabs his coat on his way out, tossing another ‘thank you’ over his shoulder. Once the door is shut and he’s alone in the hallway he takes a deep breath. Everything seems awfully surreal. He shakes his head, he’s alive and his wounds have healed therefore he is going to be ok. No matter how confused he feels.
The sky isn’t as cloud laden as it was the previous day and the weak sun tries to warm up the frigid air. Its almost noon and Atsushi is very late for work, but he stops at his apartment to get changed into clothes that are not blood spattered and torn. Kyouka isn’t there although there are a few tissues lying in the bin. He’s glad that she must be feeling better.
He slinks into the agency’s office, grateful to see that Kunikida is not there to give him a lecture on being late. He sits down at his desk and sighs. Dazai rests his chin on his hands, smiling knowingly at Atsushi. ‘Eventful night?’
Atsushi leans his head back to stare up at the ceiling. ‘Something like that.’