Archive of Our Own

_____________

Alone he let the paint run 

But it soon turned into a conundrum 

‘There is no emotion,’ the man said 

‘You need to let your thoughts bleed red.’

_____________

It had all begun with an assignment. 

“Your task is to find a partner and paint them only using three colours to the best of your ability. You may use those three colours to create more shades, but none of them can be taken from colours that are not your chosen three.” Dazai had said, wagging his finger in front of the students. 

“Excuse me, sir,” a student piped up. Akutagawa recognised it to be Kyouka. “When will be the deadline?” 

“Glad you asked,” Dazai said with a sly smile on his face. “I'll be generous. Two weeks. In exactly two weeks, I expect everyone here to have a piece ready to hand in.” 

“What is this grade worth?” another one asked. 

“Fifty percent of this semester’s grade. Make it worth my time.” Dazai said, staring at everyone before clearing his throat. “Class is dismissed. See you next lecture!” 

Akutagawa sat there, internally groaning to himself. How was he going to find a partner? He had journeyed through university, dead set on avoiding everyone and keeping to himself, but it seemed like Professor Dazai had other plans. Now, in the span of two weeks, he had to open up to someone, ask them to be his partner to paint, and hand this assessment in for marking. 

All within two weeks. Akutagawa thought he would much rather die in a hole. 

As he sat there in the cafe, mulling over who could be an aesthetically pleasing person to paint, a student crashed into the doors, tumbling over as all his books fell to the floor. 

Akutagawa scoffed. He must be a first-year student. 

He continued secretly eyeing the student from behind his laptop, observing the scene as another orange-haired man came from the counter to help him up. He seemed to also look aesthetically pleasing, but Akutagawa was not very good with warm colours. They turned out funny every time he tried working with them. 

Professor Dazai had said he simply wasn't suited for them.

However, the other man that had fallen over and now was apologising profusely caught his eye. Though he couldn't see from afar, his asymmetrical bangs and his crumpled shirt did not add to his look. He was naturally youthful, however, with bright eyes of the most unique shades he had ever seen. His small smile brightened his face immensely, rose coloured cheeks and a sloped nose that was seemingly sculpted by a Greek god. 

The only problem was that he was warm. Too warm. That man was warm, yet Akutagawa could only work with cold.

Akutagawa forced himself to turn away before his staring was made obvious. He dismissed the man in white. There was no way someone like him could ever possibly befriend someone like that guy. 

He was just aesthetically pleasing to the eye. That was all. 

-

It didn't seem like he had to confront the man in white at all. In fact, the moment he had seated himself in the cafe, the same guy from yesterday also strolled into the cafe, looking around the cafe for vacant spots before settling on the seat in front of Akutagawa. 

He glared at the man in white, but it didn't deter him in the slightest. He skipped over with a bright smile, setting down his things before sliding into the seat in front of him. 

Great. Just amazing. He could practically hear Gin saying, ‘Just be yourself, Ryuu! You need to hang out with people that aren't me.’ 

The problem was that Akutagawa didn't know how to be himself. 

He didn't have to stay silent for long, though. 

“Hello!” the white-haired man chirped. Akutagawa simply rolled his eyes before continuing to work, ignoring him. He didn't want to talk to anyone, especially him. 

“What?” he said in the rudest tone he could muster. Hopefully he could scare the man in white off. “I'm working right now.” 

“Yeah, I know. But everyone deserves a break, right? Also, you're alone. I feel bad.”

“I don't need your pathetic sympathy. Go offer it to someone who will foolishly take it like a blind dog.” 

“Wait, I'm sorry! I worded that wrong. I just need a friend, is all I'm saying…” 

“So why did you pick me? There must be others willing to lap up your… kindness.” Akutagawa spat out. He willed for the man in white to go away. 

“Don't you need a friend too?” the man in white said, smiling brightly. Akutagawa had to physically look away. He was getting sick looking at his face. 

“No.” Akutagawa bluntly said. “Go away.” 

The white-haired man pouted but stayed. “Well, my name is Atsushi! What's yours?” 

Akutagawa raised an eyebrow. “Why do you want to know?” 

“Well, I'll need something to call you by next time we meet, right?” Atsushi chuckled. What an annoying sound, Akutagawa thought. It affects me negatively. 

“There will be no next time…” Akutagawa looked at the tiger print on Atsushi's shirt and decided on his new name. “...Jinko.” 

“Hey, that's an insult!” Atsushi furrowed his eyebrows. “Whatever.” he huffed. “We're friends now!” 

“No, we are not. Go offer your services to someone else who's actually willing to, Jinko.” Akutagawa closed his laptop, packing it into his case before standing up. 

“Surely a green tea wouldn't hurt!” Atsushi called after Akutagawa, making the grumpy man stop in his tracks. Damn it. He liked green tea. Was this Jinko stalking him? Slowly, he turned back around and begrudgingly made his way back to his seat. 

“Just this once, though.” Akutagawa warned. 

“Great!” Atsushi grinned. “I already ordered them for the two of us.” 

“Even before you stepped into this shop…?” 

“Truthfully, I saw you staring at me from the corner of my eye.” Atsushi grinned sheepishly. Akutagawa flushed, slowly sinking into his seat. He willed for the ground to swallow him up whole and to leave no trace of his presence. That was the one thing he wanted to be discreet about, and he had gotten caught. 

“Ah.” Akutagawa said, breaking the silence. What was he meant to say? ‘Hey, you were actually aesthetically pleasing to the eye, and I would like to ask if you can be my partner because I need to paint someone for my assignment’? Akutagawa shuddered at that thought. He would much rather face that humiliation all over again rather than take his own to another level. 

“It's fine, though!” Atsushi quickly said, waving his hands in front of him in a panic. “Don't… don't worry about it. I usually get stares like that.” 

Akutagawa could see a good reason for that. Atsushi was incredibly good looking. 

“I see.” Akutagawa clasped his hands together. “When are the green teas coming?” 

“Ah, I don't actually know… erm, I could- I could go and ask?” Atsushi jabbed a thumb in the direction of the cashier; the same orange-haired person from earlier was standing at the counter, waiting for any new customers to arrive. 

“I don't see why not.” Akutagawa said nonchalantly, dismissing Atsushi with a wave. Atsushi nodded in response, standing up and scurrying over to the counter. 

Akutagawa followed his gaze to where the two were talking and grabbed the laptop case. Intruding thoughts invaded his head, telling him not to leave, telling him that it was pointless. He pushed them aside, forcing himself to quickly stand up and leave the cafe. It was easy to leave now, while he was gone. He could leave and never look back and perhaps then he would never have to see those bright eyes that brought hope to all. Bright eyes that should have never caught a glimpse of dark ones such as his. 

He left the cafe, hurrying out the door as he flipped on his hoodie and headed back to his apartment. Inserting earbuds into each of his ears, he let his playlist roll as he quickly weaved through the crowd. Weaving the crowd was as easy as weaving his feelings. He was always good at dodging, after all. 

He hoped he would never see Atsushi ever again. 

Maybe then, these damned feelings wouldn't mess with his mental stability. 

-

Atsushi ended up having two green teas to himself that day. He had been talking to Tanizaki over the counter for some time, accidentally immersing himself into a conversation about types of clips that would suit Tanizaki’s hair. They had eventually settled down on a cat-shaped clip that Atsushi had bookmarked online, and Tanizaki said he would order it as soon as his shift was over. 

Tanizaki quickly made Atsushi’s order, and Atsushi paid him in full, thanking him as he turned around to get back to where Akutagawa was. 

Except, there was no Akutagawa. 

Atsushi internally panicked, frantically turning his head side to side to search for Akutagawa. The green teas were still fresh in his hands, and he had hoped to enjoy them together with the stoic man. Despite his brooding personality, Atsushi believed that there was more to him than just steely glares and a terribly elegant speech etiquette. 

But now, as he looked around the room, a dreadful feeling settled into his bones. 

Loneliness. 

While Atsushi had naively trusted Akutagawa to stay whilst he fetched the teas, Akutagawa had upped and left the place as quick as a flash, leaving Atsushi behind in the dust. Why had Atsushi been so trusting? He knew he couldn't befriend everyone, but the fact that Akutagawa had given up on him already hurt; they were not even into the first day of properly talking and Atsushi had seemed so clingy and unbearable that he had already gone. 

This was how it always ended, anyway. Atsushi should not be surprised. 

He was about to return the green tea to the counter when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned around, surprised to see… 

“Professor Dazai?” Atsushi said, surprised. “What are you doing here?” 

Dazai pointed at the green teas. “Are you going to drink both of them?” 

Atsushi blinked twice, before handing one to Dazai. “No… you can have it instead.” Dazai gratefully took the drink, before motioning him to sit down. 

“Great! Let’s talk.” 

“I’m sorry, but-” Atsushi started, trying to figure out how to word his sentence. “You- you aren’t even my professor. I don’t really understand why you want to talk to me specifically.” 

“Well, I saw you attempting to talk to my student just before!” Dazai chirped, before taking a sip of the tea. “He’s not particularly the most sociable person.” He smiled. 

“Yeah, but I figured that he could use a friend.” Atsushi shrugged sadly. “It seems like he doesn’t really want me to be around him, though…” 

“Don’t give up on him.” Dazai said sternly, his cheery persona gone and replaced with a stoic face. “Trust me. You just need to be a little persistent.” Dazai leaned closer to him, a playful smile on his lips. “Truthfully, he does need a friend. His grade will depend on it.” 

“Grade?” 

“I suppose his mental stability as well,” Dazai mused. “Anyway, you should keep trying. He’ll get used to you at some point, and then stop pushing you away. He’s like that.” He shrugged his shoulders, before patting Atsushi on the back. “Well, thanks for the tea! Good luck.” 

“Wait-” Atsushi called, but Dazai had already left his seat, strolling out the door as Atsushi sat there with one drink in his hand. 

He supposed it wasn’t so bad to give it another try. After all, the second time’s the charm... right?  

_____________

The world was once grey and dull

He always wondered what a splash of colour would spell

Then when a boy came, carrying a green tea

The world had been opened for his eyes to see 

_____________

“It’s you again, Jinko.” Akutagawa deadpanned, as Atsushi slid into the seat in front of him. Atsushi simply smiled, as he offered another green tea to him. 

“Hey, have this.” Atsushi nudged. “You seem tired and-” 

“I am not tired.” Akutagawa spat out. Why was this boy so insistent on correcting his life? It was fine as it was. Even if he had no partner to paint, everything would turn out fine in the end. He would create some excuse to Dazai about why his missing work would not be handed in, then visit Gin to paint her whenever they could meet again. It was fine. It would be fine. 

(He knew it would not be.) 

“Well, a drink wouldn’t hurt, you know.” Atsushi shrugged. Akutagawa stared at the drink for a long while, before reluctantly wrapping his fingers around the beverage. He looked back at Atsushi, searching for any second-hand deals, or a trap that he might have gotten himself into the instant he decided to touch the green tea. 

He saw nothing but complete honesty staring back into his face. He despised how easy it was to read Atsushi’s intentions. Did he not have some semblance of protection to protect himself from those who would easily take advantage of him? Akutagawa internally groaned. So much for avoiding Atsushi; there was no point when the man managed to find him. 

Every time. 

Slowly, Akutagawa took a sip out of the tea. It was surprisingly relaxing, the nutty flavour soothing his senses. “This is good,” he murmured. Somehow, Atsushi caught wind of what he said. Did he have super senses? 

“Yeah, the green tea in this cafe is particularly popular.” Atsushi grinned. “What else do you like?” 

“Figs, I suppose.” Akutagawa shrugged. If he acted disinterested, then hopefully Atsushi would become bored to the point that he would decide to walk away from him. Maybe that was the approach that he ought to take in order to be undisturbed by anyone else. He had thought that a simple glare would be enough to ward most people off, but Atsushi seemed undeterred, perhaps even determined to sit with Akutagawa. 

The question that lingered at the forefront of his mind was: Why? 

“Figs?” Atsushi clapped his hands. “Well, that’s great. That reminds me of the time when…” and he began to rattle off based on that simple answer Akutagawa had given him. What shocked him the most was that he didn’t find himself wanting to tell him to shut up, but instead listened while sipping on his green tea. 

After Atsushi rambled off for what had seemed like a while, he quickly realised how much he had spoken and started profusely apologising. “Oh, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to talk so much. It’s just sometimes I get carried away and then I realise how much I’ve been speaking, and, well, one thing leads to another and-” 

“Shut up.” Akutagawa interrupted, taking a sip of his now-empty tea. “Don’t apologise for telling a story.” 

“Eh? But usually, people find it annoying-” 

“Who cares what they think?” Akutagawa rolled his eyes. “This is why I can’t stand you.” He clicked his tongue, before standing up. “I’ll be going now.” 

“Wait!” Atsushi called. Akutagawa turned around; eyebrows slightly raised in surprise. “Your… name.” Atsushi mumbled. “I never got it.” 

“Why do you want it?” 

“This will become a common occurrence, you know.” Atsushi smiled. “It’s not that hard, is-” 

“Fine.” Akutagawa rubbed his temples in annoyance. “It’s Akutagawa.” 

“Aku...Tagawa.” Atsushi tested, liking the sound it made. “Akutagawa! Akutagawa, Akutagawa, Ak-”

“You don’t have to say my name more than once. I should have never told you my name.” Akutagawa interrupted. 

“Same time, tomorrow?” Atsushi asked, slightly hopeful. 

Akutagawa stood there for a while, pondering his answer. He could easily say no or say yes and then decide to not show up the next day. It was easy like that for Akutagawa. Not caring about others was easy. It allowed him to keep his walls up, to be reserved and quiet, to shut himself off from the rest of the class, save for the professor who somehow always managed to make him talk. 

Somehow, what slipped out his mouth was one of sincere honesty. There was no hidden meaning to decipher, nor words to analyse. 

“Okay.” 

Atsushi smiled brightly. Akutagawa had to look away. What was it with him and his stupid smiles? Those damned smiles that ticked Akutagawa off to no end; how could he easily find happiness in this gloomy world? The world as Akutagawa knew it was painted in black and white; there were the saviours, and then there were the sinful folk like him. Somehow, Atsushi spilled new hues into his world. 

He ignored the erratic feelings rising in his chest, as he stifled the smile threatening to overtake his features. 

The cafe was simply too humid. 

-

As expected, Atsushi was waiting for him the next time he entered the cafe. His eyes brightened once he saw Akutagawa enter the cafe, which Akutagawa didn't understand. What was so exciting about someone like himself entering the cafe? He didn't particularly find himself interesting; his life was monochromatic compared to someone as eccentric as Atsushi. Sure, he may be weird, but at least Atsushi had something going on in his life. 

Akutagawa was just plain boring. He was a blank canvas. 

“Akutagawa!” Atsushi cheerily said as Akutagawa slid into his seat across from Atsushi. He pulled out his laptop, along with his sketchbook that he had carried with him for studies on paint textures, colour theory and the like. 

“Jinko,” Akutagawa nodded his head. “I have a lot of work to do today.” 

Atsushi seemed to pay no attention to that, however, because he had already taken his sketchbook, flipping through the contents. Akutagawa suddenly felt extremely conscious of his work, slamming down his laptop as he tried to reach over to snatch it away from Atsushi’s grasp. 

“Are you taking an art major?” Atsushi asked, leaning away from Akutagawa’s touch. Akutagawa didn't answer his question. If Atsushi noticed, he acted like nothing happened. 

“Give me my sketchbook back.” Akutagawa said sternly, on the verge of snapping at Atsushi again. “I need it for my assessment.” 

“You're so good at drawing! Why didn't you show me these?” Atsushi asked, eyes glittering with admiration. 

“Give me my book back.” 

Atsushi’s eyes flickered up to see Akutagawa on the verge of madness. Quickly setting the book back down, Akutagawa glared at him before snatching it back and opening it to the page he needed, before opening his laptop back up. 

“You know, you're really talented at drawing.” Atsushi smiled sheepishly. “I think it's admirable how well-done the efforts are. It shows.” 

Akutagawa frowned. Specific comments from his professor came flooding back into his assessments. Though he knew he was being marked fairly, his professor said he was lacking something. But what was it? He had applied the techniques perfectly, yet Dazai claimed that there was “something missing”.

“There's no emotion,” he would dismiss with a wave. “There is no point in doing a course you do not enjoy, Akutagawa. Find another one if this doesn't seem to be the one for you.” 

Akutagawa hadn't understood. He had blended the colours perfectly, so why-? 

“Your movements are robotic. Learn to relax. Artists paint from the heart, not from the head.” 

When he relaxed, he was called too sloppy. When he focused, he was called too robotic. 

So, what then? What would surely please Dazai? 

“It's not good enough,” he furrowed his eyebrows. “I need… emotion.” He clenched his fists, almost crushing the drink in his hands. “But I don't understand. How do you paint with ‘emotion’?” 

“Well…” Atsushi trailed off. “I'm a literature major, so I'm not particularly sure how it would work in painting, but…” he paused to take a sip out of his tea, before tracing his finger over the textured paper in Akutagawa’s sketchbook. “When I write using emotion, I let the feeling immerse me. It's like when you're underwater in a submarine. You know you're underwater, but you can still breathe, because of the air the submarine provides. You can listen to the whispers of your heart, telling you the reaction you're feeling. Then I just put those thoughts into words.” 

“You make it sound so easy,” Akutagawa scoffed. “How am I meant to know when I’m feeling?”

“You'll know,” Atsushi grinned. “We're human, after all.” 

“I don't feel like one, though.” 

“You got mad at me for taking your sketchbook without permission earlier, right?”

“I did… but what-”

“That's an emotion.” 

Akutagawa was stunned. He had been overthinking the concept of emotion all this time. They were suddenly extremely familiar to the art major. The sensations of sadness, fear, anger… they all suddenly came tumbling back as he realised that emotions were flexible. They did not just have one side; they were multidimensional and free. It fluctuated from anger to sadness to gentle happiness… Akutagawa had experienced it all. 

Despite his innate experience with emotions, there was a new one that had lingered at the back of his mind for some time. The emotion that was the easiest to distinguish, yet the hardest to explain; it was the art of love. 

Love. What a funny word, Akutagawa had thought to himself. I doubt someone like myself would ever experience anything even slightly near the sorts of it. 

People had always discussed love as one of the greatest wonders of this world, comparing it to miracles from gods and other kinds of mystical folk. Akutagawa couldn’t wrap his head around the concept of love. How great was this sensation, anyway? Was it truly that strong that it caused people to fall into an irrational state, sacrificing things in the name of ‘love’? The only love he had ever experienced was towards his sister, and it was nothing of the sort. Their love was gentle, and ever flowing; it was not rash, fast, or erratic. It was the type of affection that could be stretched, shifted and weighed between two hands and remain intact. 

What was the point of ‘love’ if it all crumbled to ash in the end, anyway? 

“So, then… is love an emotion?” Akutagawa quietly asked, eyes glued to the laptop keyboard as his cheeks flared up in shame. Stupid Akutagawa. He should know these things; he was an adult in university, and he still couldn’t thread the concept of love through his fingers. Why had he tried to ask questions he knew he would get ridiculed for? 

“Well… that is the common answer, yes.” Atsushi answered, Akutagawa quickly snapping his head back up in surprise. Why hadn’t Atsushi laughed? It was a pathetic question, one that had a crystal-clear answer. However, when Akutagawa held his gaze with Atsushi’s eyes, he only saw pure honesty and genuinity. He quickly tore his gaze away from Atsushi’s own, looking down at the laptop screen. Akutagawa had really ought to get his feelings in order again; it was only the third time that they had met, and his emotions were malfunctioning around someone… someone insignificant. 

“Then, what would be yours?” 

Atsushi paused at that question; eyes narrowed slightly before he began to speak again.

“Love is too big to be described as an emotion on its own. It flows, like sand. One moment you think you have it all cupped in your hands, and the next, the grains slip through the slim cracks and then it all tumbles down to the ground. Then you have to pick it up and try to hold it all together again. I wouldn’t really know myself, though. I don’t think I’ve ever been in love.” Atsushi shrugged. 

Once again, Akutagawa was left speechless. Did all literature majors speak like this? Somehow, that example he used with grains of sand… it clicked. It made sense in his head. 

“So, what you’re saying is that love is fragile?” 

“It is, yes. I’ve seen how love can tear apart couples- families, even. It’s a double-edged blade, but people still succumb to it anyway; because what else can they wholeheartedly rely on?” 

Fools, Akutagawa thought. They are fools for letting their emotions get to them so easily. Did love truly destroy everyone from the depths of their heart? 

It doesn’t matter. I’ll never become one of those lovesick fools, anyway. 

Akutagawa stared down at his screen, which had remained blank for the entirety of their session. He was assigned to write an analysis on a specific painting and show the emotions that it conveyed. He was the worst at analysis; when he saw a painting, the first thing that went to his head was the techniques that the artist used to create that piece, but not the emotions that it evoked. What emotions could a piece of paper with slabs of paint convey, anyway? 

Suddenly, he felt a lot more aware of the fluctuations of emotions he went through every day after that conversation with Atsushi. As much as he hated to admit it, talking with him was soothing. Though, he would never confess that to his face; that would be admitting that Atsushi made him weak, and he hated being weak. 

“I see,” Akutagawa eventually replied. “Well, I need to complete this assessment that I have been tasked with. You are particularly distracting me from my studies. I will take my leave now.” He stood up suddenly, Atsushi waving at him once again. 

“Same time, tomorrow?” 

“Can’t,” Akutagawa replied. “I have a lecture then.” 

“Oh,” Atsushi said, his bright eyes dimming. Somehow, Akutagawa felt his heart clench, if that was even possible. Why was he feeling this way? It wasn’t as if it was his fault that his class happened to collide with their meetups. “Well, when are you free?” 

Akutagawa, to his own surprise, found himself genuinely thinking of a time. Why was he doing this? The entire point of his stay at university was to not be acquainted with anyone. The less connections he had, the less obliged he would feel to stay there at his graduation. He would claim his degree, and finally be able to go out into the real world with more opportunities waiting for him. 

Finally, he settled on a time. “I think I will be available this weekend. I will most likely be residing at the library, not the cafe. You can meet me there.” 

“Ah, great! Same time on the weekend?”

“Yes, same time. On Saturday.” 

“Alright, noted.” Atsushi smiled. “...I’ll see you later, Akutagawa.” 

Akutagawa was about to leave without saying anything back, but he paused temporarily at the door to give Atsushi a side glance. 

“...I’ll see you too, Jinko.” 

-

The days passed by as he started pondering over who he could ask to paint. He was extremely conscious of each second that ticked by in a flash, worried about his potential time slipping away. 

All because he couldn’t muster up the strength to ask someone to be his model for a painting project. 

Sure, he could use a model that he found from the Internet, but he found himself working better with real life models. He had tried painting someone from the Internet once, and the difference in results was clear. The real-life model compared to the one taken from the Internet was higher in quality and much more vibrant. Perhaps it was the way his mind worked, but it was a serious disadvantage to him, as he despised socialising.     

However, when potential people came to his head, only one white-haired man appeared in his mind. He cursed Atsushi for being engraved in his brain; he could practically hear the gentle laugh tumbling from his mouth, the slight crinkle of his eyes and those glittering eyes, so full of hope. 

Goddamnit. Why did he have to be so vivid? It would be easier to forget the Jinko if he hadn't somehow jammed himself inside of Akutagawa’s head. Every waking moment was somehow remotely related to him. 

Akutagawa blamed it on him having no one else except for Atsushi. He knew it was false, though. Tachihara would often come to annoy him, to his dismay, but never had he once thought about him while looking at something as insignificant as a potted plant. 

Now, when he was out, everything he saw reminded him of Atsushi. Atsushi, Atsushi, Atsushi- what tricks had he pulled to turn Akutagawa into such a mess? He had usually prided himself on being headstrong and not caring about love. It hadn’t helped that his professor had noticed Akutagawa’s odd behaviour during lectures, either. As Akutagawa had tried to block the intrusive thoughts out of his mind, Dazai had ever-so-generously decided to pay more attention to him, calling him out for questions more often and often leaving Akutagawa dazed. 

“Is there something on your mind?” Dazai had once asked in front of the entire lecture hall. Akutagawa felt like slowly sinking down into his seat, into the ground and out of sight. Alas, this was a world where such fantasies did not exist, and realities had to be faced. 

“No…” Akutagawa smoothly lied. 

“Well, please get your mind working. There is to be no slacking in my classes!” Dazai announced, his eyes narrowing as if he already knew what was on Akutagawa’s mind. Akutagawa gulped, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. Akutagawa nodded slowly, opening his book again and trying to focus his minds on the slab of words in front of him instead of the bright individual that had somehow wormed his way into Akutagawa’s life despite his protests. 

So that was how he had ended up cramming his assignments at the library, earphones plugged into his ears and turned up to the maximum volume in order to be able to focus. Away he slaved at the assessments, hands barely able to grip the pen as time dragged on. In fact, he was so immersed in his work that he hadn't noticed Atsushi standing beside him until he decided to tap him on the shoulder.

“Hey, Akutagawa,” Atsushi whispered. “I'm here.” Akutagawa jolted up the motion, his fatigue showing with the dark circles that had developed underneath his eyes. Weakly, he motioned a hello with his hands as he decided to turn off his laptop. Procrastinating was a global disease. Unplugging his earphones, he turned to face him. 

“Woah!” Atsushi said in surprise. His eyebrows immediately knitted into a face of concern, eyes glimmering with distress. “You're pretty tired, Akutagawa. Do you want to-”

“No,” Akutagawa interrupted, slamming his books shut. He didn't want to be burdensome by deciding to cancel their meeting at the last minute. “I'll be fine. Let's go.” 

“I see you have quite a bit of assignments to catch up on, though. Are you sure you want to-”? 

“Yes.” Akutagawa snapped. Why did Atsushi worry so much about things that were none of his concern? “I'll be fine.” He lied through his teeth, staring straight into Atsushi’s gaze. He could tell Atsushi was still hesitant to go, so he quickly grabbed Atsushi's wrist and dragged him out of the library. 

“H-hey, but your things are still there-!” 

“No one's going to take a second-hand laptop and some useless books. Besides, others will notice. It's fine.” 

Atsushi finally gave up and let himself be dragged along by Akutagawa. “So, where… where are we even going?” 

Akutagawa stopped for a moment, before turning. Where did he want to go? Suddenly, the image of Yokohama Bay stood before him, the calming waters and the glittering gaze of the sunset’s warmth shining onto his cold face. Suddenly, he had an idea. 

“I know a place.” he said finally, Atsushi's gaze perking up. 

“...And where is that?” 

“I'm not telling you.” 

“Hey!” Atsushi whined. “...Please?” 

Akutagawa deadpanned him, resisting the urge to smile. It was unfair that Atsushi’s happiness was contagious. He shouldn't be so deeply affected like this. 

“No.”

Atsushi slumped his shoulders in defeat, before allowing himself to get dragged along by Akutagawa. He noticed Akutagawa’s gaze pointing towards the sunset in the distance, and it suddenly dawned on him how beautiful Yokohama truly was. There was something alluring about the positions of the buildings, the calming water, the peaceful streets and the view of the clear sky. 

Eventually, Akutagawa slowed down as they reached the port. His hand was still wrapped around Atsushi’s wrist, with no intention of letting go. 

“The Yokohama Port Bay,” Akutagawa mused. “I come here when I need a break from work.” 

Atsushi was stunned. “...And why are you showing someone like me this?”

Akutagawa continued staring at the sun as Atsushi's questions stumped him for the second time today. What was it with him and his questions? He stood there for a while; grip slightly loosened on Atsushi’s wrist. Atsushi didn't seem to pull away from the contact, so he continued holding onto it as if it was his lifeline. 

“Tell me, Jinko,” Akutagawa started. “Have you ever wanted to share something with others?” 

“Huh?” Atsushi raised an eyebrow. “What type of question is that? Of course, I have-” 

“I… I want to share this with you.” 

Akutagawa was still staring ahead, not daring to look back at Atsushi as his hold on Atsushi’s wrist remained intact. He prayed that the glow of the sunset in front of them would mask his ears that were glowing red at the tips. For once, Atsushi was stunned by Akutagawa’s words.

“...Is that so?” Atsushi looked up at Akutagawa, who was not looking back at him. Suddenly, the once cold man felt warm, terribly warm. His eyes flickered down as he realised that Akutagawa was still holding his wrist. Gently, he stepped closer, taking in the view. The waters lapped up the view of the sunset. Reds, oranges and pinks flickered along the surface of the blue waves, a marbled effect of sorts overtaking the entirety of the river. The buildings of Yokohama, proud and tall, stood over the two as the sun found solace wiggling itself in between the cracks that the buildings left behind. 

It was truly a beautiful sight, and Atsushi couldn’t help but stare at the view. He quickly flickered his gaze over to Akutagawa and noticed a slight tinge of red on his face. 

Was he… blushing? Atsushi quickly dismissed that thought, though. How absurd; to be thinking that there was even a slight chance that Akutagawa would be blushing because of someone like him. No, Akutagawa was not even interested in him; if he was, it was purely platonically. 

“It’s really beautiful,” Atsushi smiled softly, Akutagawa slightly inclining his head towards Atsushi. “Thank you for showing me this place.” 

Akutagawa swore his face wasn’t meant to feel this hot. 

“Yeah…” he mumbled, averting Atsushi’s gaze. “No problem.” 

The two stayed like that for a while, a comfortable silence falling upon them. Atsushi slightly flushed when he realised that Akutagawa was still holding onto him all this time. Atsushi slid his hand up and laced their hands together, Akutagawa immediately noticing a new presence on his hand. 

Warm. He was so, so warm. 

“You cannot work with warm colours. Stick with what you know. It’s clear you two don’t mix.”     

Would a warm person be an exception to the rule? Akutagawa, who was only accustomed to the cold, icy roots of blue and green, was now drowning, melting in the new abyss that he had discovered called ‘warmth’. The experience was foreign to him, the liquid-like water swimming throughout his body, prospering in his chest, and sending heat straight to his cheeks.  

Was he really drowning if he liked the sensation of tingles on his skin? Was he really suffering if the torture source was the light he had so desperately tried to grasp before? 

Was he allowed to be this privileged? 

“Is something wrong, Akutagawa?” Atsushi asked, nervously. He hadn’t even noticed that he had stiffened from Atsushi’s movements. “I’m sorry if I took it too-”

“No.” Akutagawa interrupted. “No, it’s…” he trailed off. If it wasn’t that, then what was it? It wasn’t as if he needed Atsushi, to say. No, not in the slightest. Red blurred his vision, yet yellow soothed his senses. Pink bloomed in his chest, and orange kept his feet rooted to the ground. If he was never to touch warm colours, was never to experiment with the potential that they gave; then why were they so beautiful? 

Then, he realised. 

They were beautiful, because beautiful things were out of his reach. He was never allowed to touch things that could never be his, especially things more ethereal than he could ever be.

“Akutagawa?” Atsushi snapped him out of his thoughts. “You never finished your sentence.” 

Akutagawa’s throat ran dry, as he bit the inside of his lip. “It’s… my painting,” he said quietly. Atsushi stared at him, motioning slightly for him to go on. “I… There is an assignment that I must complete. It has been a week, and I have not been able to do anything…” he lowered his head and mumbled, “because I need a partner.” 

Atsushi smiled brightly. “I’m sure you’ll find one! How long do you have left?” 

“There is only a week left. Professor Dazai only gave us two weeks… I must prove to him that I can- that I am capable of painting.” 

“You are capable of painting, Akutagawa.” Atsushi assured him. “Even if I haven’t seen them yet, you seem like the type to produce beautiful paintings with a few strokes.” 

“But I’m not capable enough,” Akutagawa argued back. “I need- I need to show him-” 

“And you will,” Atsushi said softly. He placed his vacant hand on Akutagawa’s shoulder. “You will show him. I believe in you.” 

Someone- someone had believed in him. Not Professor Dazai’s strokes, or anyone else’s - he believed in Akutagawa’s painting techniques and his techniques alone. He was struck to the core, as red bled out, intertwining amongst the pink that coursed through his veins. Warmth, vigorous warmth filled in each crack that had been created along his body, along each crevice of the scars he had collected over the years, and through his lips. Akutagawa’s eyes widened with shock, before he felt water slide down his cheeks.   

Wait… water? 

“Oh no, a- are you okay?” Atsushi fretted, flabbergasted as he watched tears slide down Akutagawa’s face. “I’m sorry, I-” 

“N-No,” Akutagawa said, wiping a tear. “It’s just…” 

No one’s ever told me that before. 

“...Will you be my painting partner?”

Atsushi was the one to stand in shock now, before his face quickly turned red. “W-Wait, me? Are you blind?” he squeaked. “I’m nowhere near pretty enough to paint-” 

“You are,” Akutagawa frowned. “Your facial features are extremely pleasing to the eyes. Do you not want to get painted-”? 

“No!” Atsushi put his hand in front of his face, shaking it wildly. “I just… there’s prettier people out there.” 

“Well, I deemed you prettiest to paint,” Akutagawa furrowed his eyes in annoyance, “so I asked you. Is that such confusing logic?” 

“...Prettiest to paint?” Atsushi said, barely above a whisper. Then, his eyes softened, as he gave that blindingly bright smile that rendered Akutagawa red every time. 

“Sure, Akutagawa. You can paint me.” 

_____________

In the darkness of the boy’s cold room 

Warmth emanated from the blue 

Splatters of pink, gold and violet rang so

Along the room that they called ‘Death’s Row’

_____________

The two had agreed to meet up at Akutagawa’s apartment the day after, at around night-time. Akutagawa didn’t mention the fact that he had decided on night-time because Professor Dazai had said that he was only suited for painting cool colours. Atsushi had happily agreed, before they walked back to the library together to collect Akutagawa’s things and parted ways for the night. 

Here Akutagawa was now, sitting with his things in hand, mulling over his work. He quickly realised why he had spent the entire day in the library with one glance at his pile of assignments. He supposed that he had to get started, and began working through the night, only occasionally stopping for a sip of his cold tea as he tried to get his assignments in order. 

He hadn’t even noticed the time that had slipped by before he heard three solid knocks at the door. Quickly flitting his eyes up to the time, he realised that it had already struck past the time that they had agreed on and quickly walked over to the door.  

Opening the door, he sagged his shoulders in relief to see Atsushi… but then stiffened when he saw the rest of the outfit. To put it simply, Atsushi was a walking fashion disaster. The colours clashed horribly and were not very pleasant to the eyes. 

Has no one taught this man fashion skills…? 

“Hello,” Atsushi chirped. “So, can I come inside, or…” 

Oh, yes, the assignment.

Akutagawa shook the thoughts out of his head. He would just have to find a way around it. “You may.” He quickly said, stepping aside to let Atsushi in. Closing the door behind him, he grimaced as he took a proper look at the horrible clothing that Atsushi had managed to put together.

There was absolutely no way he would be able to replicate… whatever the hell Atsushi had going on. The clothing items themselves were fine on their own, but together, they seemed to be a whole heap of a mess. He had strung a red scarf around his neck - which made sense, considering it was nearing winter - but the rest of his outfit was simply disastrous. Somehow, the man had slung on a plaid blue shirt, a green cardigan, and jeans, and found it fitting to be out in public with a practical Christmas tree on him. To make matters worse, he had put on yellow rain boots. Not normal boots, rain boots. Akutagawa knew it was cold, but it wasn’t raining, for fuck’s sake. 

“...What are you staring at?” Atsushi squeaked, nervously twisting his hands. Akutagawa had noticed that Atsushi was incredibly fidgety with his hands, often toying with his sleeve or with his fingernails. 

“Your outfit… who decided it for you?” Akutagawa cringed in the thought of someone having willingly picked out this mess of colours, and Atsushi agreeing to look like a kaleidoscope of colours on the streets to Akutagawa’s apartment.

“Uh… I did?” 

Akutagawa blinked once, before the words fell onto him.

No one picked it out for him. He did. 

A second thought slithered into his head. Of course, he did, he reprimanded himself. No one would ever have that terrible of a fashion sense to send him out in whatever the fuck he’s wearing. 

He had to hold back the tension between his palm and his forehead, before opting for a sigh. “This- This will not work,” he said, motioning to the clothing that Atsushi had on. “Let’s just go to my room.” 

Atsushi nodded nervously, before trailing behind Akutagawa as they reached his room. Closing the door behind him, he took one look at Atsushi before staring at the walls behind him. 

“This will not work,” Akutagawa muttered, before letting the next words slip out completely by accident. “You might as well go nude.” 

“...Huh?” 

“My assignment requires only three colours to paint you. You have too many clothes on, not to mention the fact that you decided to use every single colour in the spectrum as well. It would be simpler if you didn’t have any on.” 

Atsushi hesitated, gripping the front of his shirt tightly. “I… I don’t know.” he said quietly, averting Akutagawa’s gaze. 

Akutagawa raised an eyebrow. “What’s wrong with going nude?” 

“It’s…” Atsushi started, before swallowing a silent gulp. “My body, it’s… it’s ugly.” 

A plethora of red surged through his bones, coursing through his body as seething rage boiled in his chest. How dare Atsushi say these nonsensical things about himself, with no proper view on his body! If there was one thing that Akutagawa could not stand, it was unsolicited criticism on things that had not been asked to be controlled. 

“If that's your pathetic thing that you call an excuse, then you are not obligated to stay. You do not have the right to call your body ugly.” Akutagawa seethed, glaring at him. 

“But…” Atsushi trailed off. “...I want to stay.” He mumbled softly. 

Akutagawa sighed. Why was Atsushi such a complicated person? “If you want to stay, then undress yourself.” 

“But…” Atsushi protested. “My body is not good looking. I'm bony in general, and they all jut out in the wrong places, not- not to mention that I also have scars all over my body.”

Akutagawa remained silent, as Atsushi remained rooted to the ground, still clenching his shirt tightly. 

“I'm not the perfect model you want me to be,” Atsushi almost choked out, tears threatening to spill from his eyes as his lips thinned into a taut line. “I'm sorry.” he whispered quietly.

That was it? He was insecure over a couple little scars? Who didn't have scars? Scars defined your being, carved you into the person you are and served as a lesson. 

“...Everyone has scars, Jinko.” Akutagawa said slowly. “What are you trying to say?” 

“But mine are- are hideous!” 

Akutagawa let out a soft huff of laughter, before shaking his head. “They're probably nothing compared to mine.” Then, he rolled up his sleeve, showing a plethora of scars scaling up his arm, from his times in the slums with Gin. They were not pleasurable memories. 

He could distinctly remember the sting of soot-filled air that burned fiercely in his lungs, the winds that howled through his thin layers and ripped apart built walls of flesh, freezing him to the very core. He could taste the very first apple he had ever tasted, stealing from stores and running for dear life back into the dark alleyways; back to where wandering dogs were meant to belong, where discarded members of society deserved to belong. 

After all, they had all been ditched for a reason, weren't they? 

Atsushi stared silently at the abundance of scars that had been etched into Akutagawa’s seemingly perfect skin. Then, he released his tight hold on his shirt, the remaining crinkles being left as a sort of residue on his shirt. Slowly, he shrugged off his green cardigan, which Akutagawa took as a sign to turn around. 

He skimmed through the colours, hesitating on the palette that he was going to use. He was hovering towards the cool colours, but something tugged at his brain, saying that they were not impactful enough. 

However, all he knew was cold. He was cold, so cold should work with cold. He hesitated, before tearing his gaze away from the cool spectrum of colours and settling his gaze on the warm paints. They were seemingly untouched, save for that one incident where he had experimented with them, with Dazai’s clear disapproval printed on his face. 

“It’s clear you two don’t mix.”

Should he? Should he disobey Dazai’s criticism, and use them anyway? They were rotting in the depths of his dark room, the room where he, too, rotted away like lifeless flesh in the howling winds. He knew he shouldn’t use them, Dazai had said so himself, so why was he-

“You will show him. I believe in you.”

That damned Jinko was appearing in his mind again. However, he had to admit that they were encouraging words indeed. They were just certain combinations of letters mashed together; why did he care- 

You care, because it’s from him . 

Akutagawa shook the thought from his head. It was better not to let those words meddle too much with his mind, otherwise he would end up actually placing his faith in them. He hesitated once more, letting his eyes roam over the colours - from a dark, gloomy blue all the way to a bright, cheerful yellow - before placing his hand back down. 

Suddenly, that same yellow he had been looking at a second before flashed into his head, along with a vibrant violet that he recognised to be Atsushi’s. A pale pink joined alongside the two colours, calling out his name; like a fool, he listened. Quickly, he swiped those three paints and grabbed a paintbrush, before turning around to see Atsushi covering his cock. A red flush was spread across his cheeks, his eyes narrowed in embarrassment as he averted Akutagawa’s gaze. Akutagawa couldn’t understand why he was so embarrassed. 

“Why are you so embarrassed?” Akutagawa asked, cocking his head slightly to the side. 

“Well…” Atsushi trailed off. “I don’t… usually strip naked in front of anyone.” 

Akutagawa raised an eyebrow. “Having a dick is nothing new.” 

“Yes, but…” Atsushi took a hand off his crotch to gesture to the intimacy of it all. “Isn’t- isn’t it usually private?” 

“What about biology classes?” 

“But- Well, this is different! Incredibly different!” 

“...How?” 

“W-Well… It’s an actual one?” 

Akutagawa clicked his tongue. “They all look the same. Uncover yourself and get comfortable.” 

“But-” 

Akutagawa sighed in frustration. “It’s just a dick.” 

Atsushi closed his eyes in defeat, before slowly uncovering himself and lowering himself to the carpet. Leaning his back against the wall, he looked up hesitantly at Akutagawa as the other man studied his features. 

First, he started off with the room, using a mixture of yellow and violet to paint the room in shades of flaxen. Then, he moved onto the windows, using shades of the vibrant violet to show the night sky outside. He dotted the purple night with bright yellow stars, perhaps almost as bright as Atsushi’s twinkling eyes in that sunset. 

Finishing off the background, he allowed himself to let his gaze wander to Atsushi to study him for the sake of his painting, as he reminded himself. Silence ensued between the two as his lips slightly parted unintentionally, letting his eyes roam over all the scars that had also been seared into his skin, that had split apart his perfect pink canvas in two. His body, although bony, felt perfect to Akutagawa, each curve of his body a reminder that he was also humane in the ways Akutagawa found himself not. 

Each scar that was carved into his flesh was a reminder that he was not perfect and had suffered just as much as Akutagawa. They ranged from burns to forced cuts to holes that had attempted to seal up themselves. Somehow, in that vulnerable moment, Akutagawa could fully understand the story of each scar, despite having not known Atsushi for long. He could understand the origin of where they had come from, each distasteful word hidden behind each scar, 

and suddenly he didn't feel so afraid of the warmth anymore. 

How could he be afraid of this so-called unfamiliarity when it was disguised like him all this time? When this “unfamiliarity” was secretly similar to him and his burns that seared in his body and mind as well? 

He remained rooted to the ground, but his hands itched to let themselves touch, touch, touch each scar of Atsushi’s, to murmur the words of comfort that he himself had desperately been searching for. Despite not knowing how to communicate well at all, they were both searching for one common word.

Acceptance.

If Akutagawa could obtain that acceptance that he had been so desperately seeking, he wouldn't feel as much of a nuisance as he thought himself to be. If he could be allowed to be like everyone else, then maybe he could finally feel free to live. He could feel free to be alive. 

Because what was the point of living when everything else around you felt dead? 

Letting his paintbrush dip into the pale pink paint, he started letting his hand freely move, the paintbrush gliding across the canvas as Atsushi's figure began to appear. Akutagawa took the moment to stare into Atsushi’s eyes, the moonlight casting a soft glow against Atsushi’s skin, letting his honey-stained violet eyes glimmer brightly against the dark walls in Akutagawa’s room. If Akutagawa was the artist, then Atsushi was the flourishing canvas, with his weaknesses exposed to the world through colours on a simple piece of paper.

Despite the darkness, Atsushi looked like an ethereal angel. His silky white hair was bright against the walls, his lips glossy and smooth. Akutagawa found himself staring at his lips more often than he should have but blamed it on accurate references. After all, it wasn't his fault that Atsushi’s lips were extremely alluring to his eyes. He simply had to capture it through his vision. It was simply unfair to have such eyes that contained the brightest of sunsets, and hair that radiated the moonlight glow. 

Then there were the perfect curvatures of Atsushi's body, despite his complaints that it was bony. Akutagawa found them perfect, secretly yearning for his fingers to trace along the bones that uncovered itself from the field of pink. He thought that he would be able to grasp Atsushi’s figure better for his drawing if he was allowed to touch every crevice, to feel the mistakes that had made Atsushi who Atsushi was today. 

Perhaps then, he would be able to grasp the warmth that he had longed for such a prolonged amount of time. 

He then moved onto the violet, swiping his thin brush against the paint as he dotted Atsushi’s skin with the violet. He marked every burn, every scar, every part of Atsushi that made him who he was. Slowly, the replica of Atsushi was forming. He applied a thin layer of violet to the bottom of the painting, before working his way up and adding shadows to the sides, the undersides of Atsushi’s arms and legs, and the rest of the room. 

What Akutagawa did not realise was that the lighting source he had chosen made Atsushi seem like an angel, a halo of white from the moon reflecting onto his hair. Was it possible to look so angelic with no effects except for the moon itself? Surely, it must be unfair. 

Akutagawa put his paintbrush down quietly, taking a moment to examine his painting. He noticed the lighting effect that was now too late to eradicate, clashing nicely with the yellow walls and the pink figure that sat idly in the middle of the painting. Two honey-stained violet irises stared back into his soul. Akutagawa took the moment to look over to Atsushi as his breath caught in his throat, because how could someone be so well-mannered, breathtaking and cause Akutagawa’s emotions to go into disarray all at once-

Oh. 

Oh. 

In the brink of the night, with warm-coloured paints in hand, Akutagawa realised why Atsushi had seemed the way he was in his vision. Suddenly, the missing pieces of his sentence had fit in, and it was ones that he had all along, but had not realised. He had not realised until now, and it was too late to back away from it, to back away from him. 

He shouldn't have ever let him inside his walls in the first place. Atsushi Nakajima had taken Akutagawa’s walls that he had constructed so tightly and destroyed them in a matter of seconds. It was almost impossible to destroy them, he had made sure of it, so how- 

How had Atsushi managed to make the impossible possible? 

The thoughts made sense, the reasoning was solid, but he didn't want to accept it. The realisation was simply a phase. He would get over it sooner or later. He simply couldn't accept it.

Akutagawa couldn't accept the fact he might possibly, truly, be in love with the perfect mess that was Atsushi Nakajima. 

His assumption was proved true once again when Atsushi’s eyes flickered over to Akutagawa’s - and, oh, Akutagawa felt his heart squeeze in a way that he felt should never have been possible if not for Atsushi - and quickly turned red at the tips of his ears. He silently thanked the darkened room. He didn't know how he would deal with Atsushi seeing Akutagawa flustered at the prospect of their eyes making contact.

Akutagawa was a mess. His composure had been shattered into pieces. This shouldn't be possible! One person was not allowed to be an exception to his walls.

Yet, Atsushi was. 

Atsushi was, and he hadn’t even done anything warranting Akutagawa to slowly unbuild his walls. He had simply somehow slithered into the cracks of the walls that he hadn’t realised were slowly diminishing at the corners. How was he meant to deal with this realisation? His body ached to let his fingers dance along the crevices of each scar that Atsushi had obtained, to lean in and softly, slowly, let his lips brush against the warmth that he had so badly wished for all this time. 

Maybe then, he would be able to mix with the warmth that he had drowned in the cold for. 

He internally slapped himself. He had to get a grip on himself, fantasizing about things that would always be out of his reach. Atsushi was out of his reach. The only reason Atsushi was nude at this moment, the only reason Atsushi allowed Akutagawa to see him in all his vulnerability, was for a painting. An assignment. It was not for Akutagawa’s personal gain, so there was no point in pining over something that was never meant for his eyes in the first place. 

“Uh…” Atsushi said quietly, breaking the silence. “How much longer do I have to stay here?” 

Akutagawa snapped out of his senses. Coughing quietly, his eyes flickered over to Atsushi’s gaze. “...How much longer do you want to stay here?” 

Atsushi’s eyes widened. “You’re done?” 

Akutagawa looked away. “...I was done a while ago.” he murmured quietly. 

Atsushi flushed, before crossing his legs and looking down to the floor. “So… So does that mean you want me gone?” 

“Gone?” Akutagawa repeated. 

I never wanted you gone. 

“Y-Yeah…” 

“If you wish to go, you may.” Akutagawa gritted through his teeth, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. He secretly wished for Atsushi to leave, so then he wouldn’t have to deal with these conflicting feelings that swirled in his stomach. 

“But do you want me gone? It’s… It’s your apartment, after all.” 

Akutagawa dropped the paintbrush onto the ground. “Do you not have a place to return to?” 

“I do-” Atsushi started, “but it’s a bit cold outside and this house is kind of warm and-” 

Akutagawa rubbed his temples. “You could just state that you wanted to stay.” 

“Fine,” Atsushi pouted his lips. “...I want to stay.” 

Akutagawa let out a soft huff of breath, screwing the lids back on the paints as he packed away his things. “Do you want some of my belongings to wear instead?” 

“Eh? But I can wear my clothes-” 

“Are jeans suitable for sleeping in?” 

“...No.” 

“Hold on.” Akutagawa walked over to his closet, quickly pulling out a pair of grey sweatpants and a black shirt. “You can change in the bathroom… or here. I really don’t care.” He then tossed the two garments over to Atsushi, who took them gratefully before beginning to change. Turning back around to face the paints, Akutagawa willed for his too-fast heart to slow down. Everything around him was pacing too fast, leaving little room for him to breathe and to take the situation in. Surely this ‘love’ must be a phase. Akutagawa didn’t know how to love; he wasn’t loveable and didn’t love in return. 

That was why he could never mix with warm colours. 

Atsushi heaved a sigh of relief as Akutagawa turned back around, this time clothed and a lot more comfortable in his skin. “Thank you for the clothes,” Atsushi bowed gratefully. “Have you eaten dinner yet?” 

“Dinner…” Akutagawa mused. He had been so immersed in painting Atsushi and studying his scars that he had forgotten about the prospect of eating. “I suppose I have not. Let us go to the kitchen.” 

-

Akutagawa’s first mistake was letting Atsushi step foot into the kitchen. He had no idea that Atsushi was horrible at cooking, but what baffled him even more was that he seemed to have absolutely no sense of danger at all. He didn’t know that not only did Atsushi not seem to grasp the concept of the danger of what an incorrect hold of a knife could do, but also couldn’t seem to grasp the concept of the dangers of fire. Akutagawa couldn’t take it after the first few minutes, and so dragged him outside of the kitchen to watch. He quickly whipped up a meal for the two of them that didn’t require setting half of the kitchen on fire during the process. 

“Thank you for the food, Akutagawa.” Atsushi bowed respectfully as he dug into his food. Akutagawa did the same, before letting his features soften and a gentle smile appeared on his face. 

Atsushi stopped eating to stare at his face, which made Akutagawa immediately incredibly conscious of himself. Did he have something on his face? 

“What?” 

“You…” Atsushi trailed off. “You smiled.” 

Akutagawa turned away, flushing a bright red as he closed his eyes furiously in embarrassment. Was that it? Atsushi had made him worry for nothing.  

“Eat.” Akutagawa simply said in response, with Atsushi quickly golfing down the rest of his meal. He had ought not to let his guard down, but it was so difficult when Atsushi was - regrettably - incredibly easy to talk with. He could hear Gin cheering for his progress at the back of his mind, which he silently rolled his eyes to.  

After the two had finished their meals in a comfortable silence, Atsushi had insisted that he take the couch while Akutagawa slept in his bed. Akutagawa had ended up dragging Atsushi over to his room and the two had shared a bed in the process. Akutagawa and Atsushi had tried to stay on their respective sides, but as the night progressed, the room began to plummet into deathly cold temperatures.

“Akutagawa…” Atsushi whispered. “Was- was my body really that… interesting?” 

“I can tell you have a lot of stories to tell.” Akutagawa replied quietly, rolling over to face him. Even in the comfort of their own bed, Atsushi was still beautiful under the moonlight. His hair was tangled onto the pillows, lips slightly parted and his bi-coloured eyes were twinkling. 

Akutagawa thought that he looked like the stars. 

“They're not very interesting, to be honest…” Atsushi trailed off. “I wish I could get rid of them. Then I could get rid of how I got them in the first place.” 

“Why would you want to?”

“I heard that in order to be a good person, you need to forgive everyone. If I could just rid myself of these stupid memories, then I could easily forgive the person who caused these.” 

“...And how could you forgive them, per say?”

“I could forgive them because then they'd have nothing to be sorry for.”

“They still would have the capacity to do that to you again, though.” 

“But…”

“You would also be eradicating the person you are today by erasing your scars. The imperfections of a person make them who they are. Otherwise, we would all be… copies of each other. Printed again and again.”

“My imperfections are bad-”

“Whose aren't?” Akutagawa slightly moved closer to Atsushi, resting his hand on Atsushi's shoulder. “Imperfections are called imperfections because they're not meant to be ‘good’. You are…”

Perfect. 

“...Fine, just the way you are.” Akutagawa inched his hand closer. Atsushi didn't move away. 

Atsushi looked into Akutagawa’s eyes, and Akutagawa swore for a second, he saw stars. Up close, Atsushi managed to look even prettier. Freckles dotted his face, his eyes soft and nonjudgmental, as if Akutagawa could tell him everything and Atsushi would somehow understand. His skin looked supple to the touch, fields of gold illuminated underneath moonlight glows and navy-blue skies. Perhaps it was the fact that Akutagawa had realised that he was in love, but in the second of silence that he took to stare at Atsushi and revelled in his beauty, Akutagawa realised. 

He realised, and that was when he knew he was not able to be saved.

It’s his fault. It's all the foolish Jinko’s fault. 

Because of him, I, too, have become one of those lovesick fools. 

_____________

Pulled from the depths of the cold 

The boy found the strength to be bold 

Now that he had tasted the sensations of warmth 

He found himself wanting more of that mirth

_____________

Looking over at his painting, his eyes flickered back to his empty document, and he groaned in despair. Along with his painting, he also had to write up a report describing the intention behind the colours chosen, the emotions that had been attempted at depicting and how that has affected the piece as a whole. 

Akutagawa didn't know how to put things into sentences very well. He struggled a lot with wording things and this painting was no exception. He knew what he wanted to say; putting those wants into coherent sentences worthy of marks, however, was a different cause. 

After a few hours, he managed to come up with this:

For the painting that was created, a combination of violet, pale pink and yellow was used. The reason behind this was because it was suited most for the atmosphere that was to be created. Although the colours themselves are warm, they contrast against each other in such a way that captures the viewer’s attention, using the colours to draw them in. 

The emotions behind this painting were mostly unintentional. A solemn piece had been attempted, but as the subject was studied further, it was decided that a solemn theme would not suit their radiance. No, rather a warm colour scheme would suit them most. Their eyes were the most unique one could have ever seen; it was an exquisite blend between a brilliant purple and a warm gold. Their body, though engraved with scars, felt as though there were stories littered all over their arms, legs and chest, ready to be told. This was shown with the violet, as it seems that they were healing from their battered stories. The lighting technique was also unintentional. It was merely meant to be shown from the window, reflecting onto their skin, but it instead depicts their head shining like a halo, the violet undertones on their arms and legs showing this technique being in effect. This made them seem like an angel and works as such, because their personality type is one of utter kindness. He is an incredibly selfless person, never letting the other one slink away without the certainty that they are okay. 

Akutagawa closed his laptop. Writing was exhausting; especially when it required discussion of his emotions. It had taken a while to dissect what he was feeling, since he could not even make the slightest sense of his emotional state. He was shy, confident and giddy all at the same time. What refused to go away even as these emotions fluctuated throughout his body, was the erratic heartbeats that shook violently against his ribcage. 

It was all so confusing. 

Being in love was confusing in itself. 

Flopping onto the bed, he cursed himself when his mind decided to conveniently float to the person he had just been writing about. He supposed he could allow himself to indulge in these wistful fantasies just this once and closed his eyes, letting his mind conjure whatever it decided to create.

“Hey, Akutagawa,” Atsushi said as they interlocked hands, his small palm slick against his rough, coarse one. Akutagawa looked down as Atsushi said his name, a wide grin on his face. “You're really pretty, did you know that?”

Akutagawa flushed slightly. Why was Atsushi acting this way? “Uh,” he stammered slightly, scratching the back of his head awkwardly, “Thanks.” 

Atsushi watched as the cherry blossoms fell gently from the trees onto the ground. He gently knelt, picking it up with his hand and then turning to Akutagawa. “Look, it's a cherry blossom!” 

“I can see that.” 

“I bet you would look pretty with one of these in your hair.” 

Akutagawa flushed up. What was it with Atsushi and his dumb compliments that affected Akutagawa? “S-Stop calling me pretty.” he mumbled, a red blush colouring his cheeks. 

“Hmm… Okay then, how about beautiful?” 

Akutagawa felt like melting into a puddle. “These compliments are too much…” Atsushi simply chuckled, before stepping closer to tuck the cherry blossom into his hair. 

“Wow!” Atsushi exclaimed happily. “You're so much more beautiful with the cherry blossom in your hair.” 

“What’s that meant to mean?” 

“Huh? Oh, wait, sorry-” Atsushi paused to frantically wave his hands around. “I didn’t mean it like that! I meant it, uhm, like, you’re always beautiful but you look even more-”

“Okay, I get it…” Akutagawa said, a red flush spreading on his cheeks. “You don’t need to explain it anymore… please.” He tried to cover his face with his hands to prevent the flush from showing, but Atsushi saw it anyway. 

“Are you blushing?” Atsushi cooed, prying Akutagawa’s hands away from his face. “You are! You’re so cute.” Atsushi grinned, before leaning in and pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. Akutagawa couldn’t remember exactly what it tasted like, but it felt warm and comforting… like sitting by a fireplace on a cold day, blankets over bodies and warm mugs filled with hot cocoa. 

He didn’t even remember the taste, but all he knew was that it was the warmth that he had craved so desperately and that he wanted more. He wanted to eat more of it until he felt like exploding at the seams and his belly was filled with warmth, warmth, warmth -  

Akutagawa woke, his face excruciatingly hot. His eyes flickered to the window, the moonlight’s glow still shining over his blankets as he pressed the back of his hand to his forehead. Sweat was slick to his head, cheeks burning as he sat up. That warmth that he had experienced in his dream was long gone, replaced with a biting chill that maneuvered down his back as he shook his head and internally groaned. 

He didn’t know he was such a desperate man. The only form of desperation he had ever shown was for Dazai’s approval on his paintings, which he had been unsuccessful so far. Atsushi was an entirely different matter. He didn’t crave Atsushi’s approval, not in the slightest. 

What Akutagawa craved… was him. 

He craved to be with him, to wrap his arms around his small figure, to touch those scars that Atsushi had so desperately tried to hide from the world, to trace his cheeks and leave chaste kisses over his supple skin, whispering sweet nothings into his ears as he interlaced fingers with Atsushi- 

Atsushi, 

Atsushi,

Atsushi. 

Before Akutagawa knew it, his entire world had now centred around someone who had no interest in him. He was pining after a bad ending. How had he become such a desolate mess? How had his interests shifted from only himself, to considering Atsushi in them too? In the brink of the night, the same moon smiled down on him mischievously, as if knowing the answer to all his silent questions but not answering any of them. The stars twinkled mockingly at him, as if to say, “You’re pining over a lost cause, boy.”  

He didn’t need them to tell things he already knew. He may be stupid, but he wasn’t naive. 

He downed a glass of water and flopped back into his bed, wishing for sleep to overtake him and to experience that warmth that he had so dearly craved for in that dream. 

-

He ended up getting little sleep that night. His thoughts were racing with that dream; the thought of Atsushi being in such proximity to him had his head pounding with an indescribable emotion that he could not seem to figure out. 

Despite getting little sleep, he didn't feel tired in the slightest. He knew that would soon turn false the moment he reached the lecture hall, but he decided to enjoy the moment of adrenaline that was still coursing through his veins while it still lasted. 

Heading over to his phone, he saw a couple of texts from Tachihara. Rolling his eyes, he went to read them. 

tachihara: 

oi

 

bro

 

have u found a partner yet for that assignment thing or wtv? 

 

akutagawa:

Yes. 

 

tachihara: 

oh ? who was it 

 

akutagawa:

Why do you need to know?

 

tachihara:

ouch cold. i just want to know bc im ur friend! do i need a reason 

 

akutagawa:

Do you even know who he is?

 

tachihara: 

relax i know like Everyone 

 

akutagawa:

Fine. His name is Atsushi.

 

tachihara:

holdon… atsushi as in…

 

atsushi nakajima?! 

 

akutagawa:

If you're talking about the person with a ridiculous haircut, then yes. That's the person I'm talking about. 

 

tachihara:

u cannot talk 

 

anyway akutagawa u fuckin scored 

 

go ask him out soon or smt he's very chased after

 

cause apparently hes never been in love 

Akutagawa suddenly remembered back to when they had that conversation about emotions. Atsushi managed to somehow word love into something worthy of discussion, to his own disbelief. The topic that he often avoided due to his inability to understand the complications that came with it; somehow, Atsushi had made him understand. The one person who had never experienced love had made him experience love.  

“I wouldn’t really know myself, though. I don’t think I’ve ever been in love.” 

akutagawa:

That is true.

 

tachihara:

whatz true 

 

akutagawa:

That… he's never been in love.

 

tachihara:

OHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO

 

DO YOU HAVE THE HOTS FOR HIM???

 

AKUTAGAWA 

 

DO

 

YOU

 

HAVE

 

THE

 

HOTS

 

FOR

 

ATSUSHI????

 

akutagawa:

Stop spamming my phone. 

 

I don't know. 

 

tachihara:

Oh my god YOU DOUBLE TEXTED 

 

ur head over heels for him you need to ask him out ASAP

 

akutagawa:

What is that even meant to mean? The phrase “I don't know” could mean anything, Tachihara. 

 

tachihara:

yea yea keep telling urself that 

 

ur in DENIAL 

 

stage one is denial it always is 

 

akutagawa:

Fuck off. I should have never bothered opening my phone. 

 

tachihara:

tell me how asking him out goes 👯

Akutagawa turned off his phone in annoyance. As soon as he had confessed the fact that he was in love to himself, it seemed as if everyone knew this now. Was this all a coincidence? Or did Tachihara say this to tease Akutagawa? Akutagawa had an inkling that he knew the person who had started this scheming, but it wasn’t as if he had enough proof to confront them about it. 

They were the one mastermind that Akutagawa would never be able to defeat. 

However, with the constant meetups that Akutagawa and Atsushi had, he couldn’t help but begin to notice more about Atsushi; like the way he would always twirl his hair when nervous, or jolt at the slightest touch, or shy away from talking to others that weren’t Akutagawa or his friends. 

Akutagawa noticed it all, and he despised it. After all, how was he meant to fall out of love when all he kept noticing was Atsushi? He knew he couldn’t change his feelings now, but the future he had planned out did not involve a romantic interest. However, life was unplanned, and Akutagawa would be lying if he said he knew everything that life was going to throw at him. 

Including the meeting of Atsushi Nakajima. 

Atsushi was so out of reach for someone like Akutagawa; he was everything that Akutagawa was not. He was pretty, he was kind, he was easy to talk to, he could easily talk to others and always put others before himself. How could Akutagawa possibly compete with that? His body was frail, his personality shut off and cold and he had never thought of anyone else except for himself; well, until now. 

So, he began to distance himself. 

He purposely avoided those places where Atsushi would sit, opting for other places instead. Whenever he saw Atsushi at the cafes, he would slip out the back, sitting in the comfort of his apartment instead. When he heard knocks at the door of his apartment - specific ones - he would hide and pretend that no one was home so that Atsushi would go away. 

He convinced himself that this was for the best. Avoiding Atsushi was for the best. He was made to be forgettable, after all; Atsushi would forget him after a couple of weeks. It didn’t seem as if Akutagawa was a major priority in Atsushi’s life, either. It wouldn’t matter in the end, anyway. Akutagawa was destined to be alone. He bathed in the waters of solitude. 

Atsushi was simply the raging waves that would cease after a while; because, after all, there was no point in capturing a fish that was never meant to be eaten. 

He convinced himself he would be okay without Atsushi. This was how it was always meant to be. 

(He ignored the churning in his stomach that told him otherwise.) 

Everyone who told him otherwise was lying. No one knew him better than himself; no one knew the depths of his mind better than he did. Everyone else who claimed otherwise were big, fat liars.

After all, phases all eventually came to an end; this phase was soon going to stop as well. 

-

Atsushi was worried. Incredibly worried. 

A couple weeks ago, Akutagawa had suddenly stopped seeing him out of the blue. Atsushi didn’t understand what he had done wrong. Had he made Akutagawa uncomfortable with his clinginess? Or, perhaps, Akutagawa had finally realised how pathetic Atsushi truly was and had opted to forget him. 

He had asked Tanizaki to keep an eye out for when Akutagawa entered the shop, but it seemed as if Akutagawa had gotten his way around that as well; whenever Atsushi asked Tanizaki for an update, he simply said that he hadn’t seen Akutagawa enter the shop at all. 

What was going on? Atsushi couldn’t understand why Akutagawa was being like this. He wanted to ask Dazai, but that would mean admitting that he had failed to befriend him; the face of disappointment that would wash over Dazai’s face was more than enough to avoid the mischievous professor. 

What could he possibly do now? Akutagawa had disappeared off the face of the earth and Atsushi was left with no clues. He hadn’t even thought of asking for Akutagawa’s phone number, either; his naive self had simply thought that he would be able to see him every day and so hadn’t bothered with talking to him online. 

Atsushi knew he should have been bracing himself for this from the moment they met gazes in that cafe. Everyone had always left him; he always was left to rot in the dust in the end. Who would possibly want someone as clumsy, foolish and scrawny as him? If all he said was false, then why was Akutagawa gone? Dazai’s words were simply false manifestations - he had been hoping for something that was never possible in the first place - and everyone else who believed in him were nowhere to be seen. 

(He knew he would never have anyone else; that was why he was so attached to the one person who didn’t want him.) 

As he sat there in his room wondering where Akutagawa could possibly be, his mind flitted back to when he had accidentally stumbled in the library whilst looking for a place to repair his torn books that he had accidentally dropped from the fourth floor of his apartment. He had completely forgotten about them the moment he had seen Akutagawa hunched over, deep in work and then had suddenly remembered about meeting him at the library. 

It was a couple hours late, but he would be fine… right? 

Atsushi stood up suddenly, an epiphany suddenly reaching his head. Where was the one place he had not checked, but had seen Akutagawa in often? 

The library. 

Quickly, he grabbed the nearest jacket from his chair, snatching his keys that lay on the kitchen counter and rushed out the door. The sun was setting, and he knew that the library closed its doors once the moon came out. He had to get there before the sun decided to close its eyes for the day. 

He sprinted through the footpaths, swerving past civilians and almost tripping over rocks that were in the middle of the path, but he ran on. Adrenaline surged through his body as he kept running, praying, hoping that his feet would be able to carry him all the way to the library. He didn’t live far from the library, but it usually took him approximately ten minutes to get there. At the rate that the sun was setting, he would find himself outside locked doors. He didn’t even know if Akutagawa was there, for Pete’s sake! 

Something told him that he would be there, though. It cried at him to run faster, to run like he had never before. He hadn’t even tried this hard when he had Physical Education in high school! 

Akutagawa was different, though. The two were not even remotely comparable. Akutagawa was someone that Atsushi could wholeheartedly trust, while the other was merely a subject that he disliked participating in. 

His vision blurred and his head began to feel light as he speedily approached the library. The sun was almost down, but he would not stop; not while his goal was in sight. Using the last ounce of strength he could muster, he pushed open the doors dramatically, leaning against the doorframe. His eyes searched the area, frantically looking for Akutagawa. He had embedded his looks into his brain, so he didn’t need to even remember the iconic look that he always had - black hair with white tips - and his eyes widened when he looked to the corner of the room and saw the very same person sitting there, slaving over his work. 

Atsushi felt like he could cry. 

Hurriedly, he rushed over to Akutagawa, tears glossing over his eyes as he reached the man who was silently working. 

“Akutagawa,” Atsushi breathed out in relief. “You’re here.” 

Akutagawa stilled, eyes widening as he stopped his work. His music was still blasting through his earphones, but that voice was unmistakably clear, and he knew who this was. He didn’t even need to turn around and look into his eyes to know that Atsushi had found him. 

He found him, and now he was standing next to him. 

What was he meant to do? Atsushi could probably already tell that Akutagawa had heard him loud and clear by the way he had stilled so suddenly at his voice. Gritting his teeth, he took his earphones out of his ears and turned around to face Atsushi. 

“You’re here, Jinko.” he muttered awkwardly, shifting from foot to foot. 

“Where have you been all week?!” Atsushi cried, earning a glare from the librarian. “I- I’ve been looking for you and I’ve even been asking for others to search for you, and I was just so worried that you suddenly disappeared off the face of the earth and the possibilities were-” 

“I didn’t disappear.” Akutagawa said bluntly. “Can I continue my work now?” 

“Wh-” Atsushi started, contorting his face into a confused expression. “Akutagawa, you’ve practically been avoiding me. You didn’t even show up to the cafe, and you know that’s where we always meet!” 

“I wasn’t avoiding you,” Akutagawa lied. “I just got busy and-” 

“If you’re not trying to avoid me, then why haven’t you talked to me in the past week?” Atsushi exclaimed, a tear slipping down his face. Akutagawa resisted the urge to wipe it away with his thumb. His stupid emotions were malfunctioning again. This is why he couldn’t be around Atsushi. 

Akutagawa’s mouth ran dry. He knew the reason why; his heart laughed at him - mockingly so - as he averted Atsushi’s gaze, opting to look at the ground instead. 

“Because I…” Akutagawa started, eyes widening as he realised the words that were about to spill out of his mouth. No! He told himself. You’re being selfish by saying this. He reprimanded himself. An unknown emotion fulgurated through his irises, as he gulped down the remainder of his tears. 

Because… I think I love you.  

“Because I realised, I don’t ever want to see your face again.” He spat out instead, ignoring the way his heart crumbled at those false lies. If he ignored a little more, if he ignored a little harder, then these emotions would never disturb him again. Atsushi would leave and he would return to his normal self. It would be fine. He would turn out fine. This was just another phase in his long, arduous life.

“...So, this is how you’ve always seen me, huh?” Atsushi smiled, but there was no warmth. For the first time, no ounce of warmth seemed to surround the boy who radiated nothing but warmth. Instead, the coldness that Akutagawa was once accustomed to washed over his eyes, the menacing blues and greens piercing into his neck. 

Suddenly, he felt cold. 

No, he thought, I have never once thought of you in that light. 

“We were never friends, Jinko. I merely needed someone for my assignment.” 

“Don’t call me that stupid name! So then, that entire thing about my scars was a lie? You’re saying that you lied about my body?” Atsushi screamed; blazing anger evident in his eyes. Anger that Akutagawa had caused. Akutagawa wanted to take those words back, to tell him that they were all terrible, terrible lies-

This is for our sake. 

Akutagawa grit his teeth, swallowing down the truth. The truth should remain hidden, locked up in a chest and the key tossed away. The truth hurt; but it was petrifyingly real, and Akutagawa would rather hide behind fantasies than face his realities. 

“I didn’t lie about your scars or your body.” Akutagawa said quietly. He willed for the sun to set quicker. 

“So then… What did you lie about?” Atsushi said, eyes glossing with hope. 

No. Please don’t give me a look I don’t deserve. Please don’t give me hope. 

“I…” Akutagawa felt the words on the top of his tongue. The truth was so close to slipping, but he couldn’t - no, he wouldn’t - let Atsushi know about the fearful reality of Akutagawa’s heart; about the fact that the reality was that Akutagawa’s heart was Atsushi’s to take - and if Akutagawa was being honest - it always was. 

Nothing. I never lied. 

“Everything else.” He opted for the latter option. The option that hurt more but stung less. 

(He was lying. It stung more than anything else ever could.) 

“God, Akutagawa…” Atsushi chuckled, but the sound was not inviting in the slightest. It felt cold, like ice sliding all over the insides of his trachea. Nothing about Atsushi radiated that warmth that Akutagawa sought comfort in; not after Akutagawa had taken that fragile heat that curled in his veins and burned it out. “...To think all those moments actually meant something.” 

They did. They meant everything to me. 

“They didn’t. Not to me, at least-” 

“Yeah, I can tell. You don’t have to fucking rub it in!” Atsushi interrupted; fists clenched as he slammed the shelves of books that were next to him. Some of the books toppled over, but Atsushi did not seem to have a single care as Akutagawa spotted a single tear slipping down his cheek and onto the carpet underneath them. He could tell that Atsushi was desperately trying to not let any more spill, from the way he held himself in front of Akutagawa. The sudden urge to cup his cheek and kiss those tears washed over him, but he stayed still. 

If he moved, he didn’t know what his body would do. 

Eventually, Atsushi turned around and walked out of the door, leaving Akutagawa behind with his music still faintly playing from his earphones. Looking back at the floor at the books that had dropped, his eyes glossed over the title “The Consistency of Love”. Scoffing to himself, he ignored the way his heart reacted to the word love. Love was stupid. It was dumb, doing things without any rational reason. 

He was doing this for both of them. Atsushi would never have to see Akutagawa again and Akutagawa would never have to experience that thing that even he could not tame. The thing that wound around his heart, convulsing it into whatever he could call it now; the thing that manipulated him into doing unspeakable things that were out of character for him to do. 

As he began picking up the books, the sun began to close its eyes, the librarian tapping their feet impatiently as they watched Akutagawa place the books back into its original positions on the shelves. That was how his feelings should look like - carefully sectioned into each category, and only picked out when needed - not toppled onto the carpet, pages spilling out like ink on a canvas. 

He closed his laptop and began to assemble his things back into his bag. He couldn’t help but think that if his emotions were uncontrollable now, then the emotional tear that had permanently seared itself into his skin was worse than any berating criticism that he had ever received from Dazai. 

It’s the best for us both. 

He was always lonely; that would not change simply because Atsushi had tried to worm himself into Akutagawa’s life. As Akutagawa checked over the table to make sure all his things were there, he couldn't help but feel terribly lonely. 

Akutagawa, who was used to solitude, felt alone. Ironic, truly. 

Walking out of the library with a nod goodbye to the frustrated librarian, he let his legs carry him home as he looked up at the night sky. It was particularly beautiful, he noted, as the guilt intensified in his stomach. He forced himself to look ahead to the streetlights, because if he looked at them for too long, he would only be reminded of that night where he had painted an angel instead of a human. 

Once he reached his apartment, he didn’t even bother to change out of his clothes, tossing his items aside onto the table as he flopped onto the bed. His heart was crying with a new pain that he could not ignore; as much as he wanted to shun out those stupid emotions that called out to him, his hand crumpled the sheets as he realised, he could not. 

It’s for the best. We both knew it would not last long. 

Akutagawa knew he was doomed when even he could not believe that thought.

_____________

The warmth slipped away from his grasp 

He ignored his heart crying for another glass 

‘It’s for the best,’ the man proclaimed

Knowing that those words were to be shamed

_____________

A few weeks had passed since the two had split. 

Akutagawa had not seen him anywhere; granted, he had never visited the places where he saw Atsushi during that time, opting to stay at home instead. The truth was, he didn't know how to face anyone after that ordeal. Being in solitude for most of his life had rendered him to be an extremely individualistic person; thus, he never asked for help even when he knew he needed it. 

It was simpler for him. 

Not being able to burden people with his problems seemed to be the better choice for Akutagawa, as he wasn't bothered, and no one was bothered in return. 

He had at first thought the split was for the best, denying the elfin flutter that stemmed in his heart. Even though he had acknowledged the fact that he had feelings for Atsushi - regrettably, as Akutagawa would say - he refused to accept the fact that they were permanent. Nothing was permanent in his life; it was foolish of him to think that these feelings would stay, either. Everything vanished from him, eventually; nothing ever dared to stay with the loner named Ryuunosuke Akutagawa. Who wanted to, anyway? There was nothing interesting about him, nothing worthy of being used to befriend others. 

Atsushi wanted to befriend you once. 

He hissed, covering his ears to block out the thoughts. They got louder in response.

Aren't you being a bad person by refusing to see your friend?

Aren't friends meant to be there for each other? 

Don't you love him? 

Akutagawa wanted to flood those stupid, stupid thoughts out of existence; the ones who held onto the phase that he had already let go. 

I don't want to love him. I don't, I don't, I don't-

But you do. 

It was then that Akutagawa realised that this love was not a phase and it seemed to grow worse with every day that was spent apart from Atsushi. Despite his mind begging him to let go, his heart had already latched onto Atsushi and dug its roots deep into his body. 

This love was not a phase; it never was. 

For Akutagawa, this was the only permanent thing that would ever stay with his body. 

“Atsushi Nakajima…” he cursed into his laptop keyboard, covering his head with his arms as his hands curled around the pages of his notebooks. 

“I want to despise you so much… I want to despise you… But I can't… because… 

I already love you.” 

-

tachihara:

u never responded to me :(

 

akutagawa:

Shut up, Tachihara. I don't have an obligation to respond to anyone. 

 

tachihara:

not even atsushi? 😘

 

akutagawa:

I don't have his number. 

 

tachihara: 

the fuck ?! you guys have known e/o for months and u havent even mustered up the courage to ask for his number??? 

 

akutagawa i knew u were dense but not THIS dense 

 

akutagawa:

We haven't been talking. 

 

tachihara:

WAIT WHAT WHYYY

 

AKUTAGAWA I WAS CHEERING FOR U TWO 😭😭😭 WHAT THE FUCK 

 

akutagawa:

Shut up and let me explain.

 

You cannot make fun of me for this, do you understand?

 

tachihara:

uhhh… ok ? 

 

akutagawa:

Good. 

 

So, him and I… I broke the companionship off. 

 

tachihara:

HUH??????

 

akutagawa:

Let me explain. Shut up for a while.

 

Yes, we broke it off… I broke it off. I thought it would be for the best because he was wasting his time being around me when he could have done more… valuable things worth his time. 

 

That's not the point, though. The main reason I decided to break it off with him… 

 

Well…

 

Have you ever had someone on your mind almost twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week? He became an obsession. Someone I shouldn't have fretted over. But I couldn't stop. I could not stop thinking of him every single minute of the day. He was distracting me from my work. I was sloppier in classes and Professor Dazai noticed it. 

 

This all happened because I was incompetent. I was incompetent and a fool… 

 

Thus, I fell in love with him. Foolish, I know. The words Akutagawa and love don't mix. I am not suited for that sort of lifestyle. I cannot help it, though. I want to stop the incessant heartbeats when he is around me, the hypersensitive senses that render me immobile… but most of all, I want to stop loving him. Loving him makes me weak. I am weak, Tachihara.

 

I am weak because I love him. 

 

tachihara:

that brought a tear to my eye /srs

 

akutagawa:

My life is in shambles… and I have not the slightest clue on what to do. 

 

What do I do, Tachihara? How do I get past this? 

 

tachihara:

oh aku 

 

you have much to learn

 

1: you can't make love go away. once it stays, it stays

 

2: u need to fucking talk to him if u broke it off 

 

akutagawa:

I don't know how to. 

 

tachihara:

well where does he usually go? you've got to know ur the lover boy aft all 

 

akutagawa: 

We used to meet up at the cafe near our university.

 

tachihara:

perfect! just go there then 

 

akutagawa:

...Tachihara, I haven't been there in weeks. The last time I saw him was when we split. I don't know if he even attends that cafe anymore. 

 

tachihara: 

well u dont know until u try! just go aku trust me 

 

u sound like u still want him am i right? 

 

don't deny it either… if u don't want him then why did you decide to text me abt this?

 

akutagawa:

… 

 

Regrettably, yes. My heart still aches. 

 

What do I say to him if I do manage to sight him in the cafe? I cannot act like nothing happened, especially when I was the one who decided to break things off. Maybe it is for the best that this does not happen.

 

tachihara: 

NO ur not doing that akutagawa. i dont give one FLYING fuck if youre scared. u fucked up big time and now all of a sudden u want to avoid him?? 

 

u know what that makes u? 

 

A COWARD.

 

akutagawa: 

It happened in the first place because I was incompetent and fell for him. If I continue this behaviour, it will go away. 

 

tachihara: 

okay so does that mean ur love for gin is also a phase??? 

 

akutagawa: 

That’s completely different. Gin is my sister. Sibling bonds and normal bonds are different. 

 

tachihara: 

well im just going by what ur saying bro 

 

ur saying that all love is a ‘phase’ so im just asking if ur love for gin is a phase too 

 

akutagawa: 

No. It is not. 

 

tachihara: 

then what’s so different about atsushi? 

 

akutagawa: 

I do not have the desire to do any of that sort of thing to Gin. He is different. 

 

tachihara: 

u know this isnt a phase… right? 

 

its been going on for god knows how long. if u dont reverse this now its only going to get worse. youll live ur life in guilt dude 

 

akutagawa: 

If I saw him less, wouldn’t that cease the love in my heart? That was my logic. 

 

tachihara: 

ur logic is really flawed LMAO 

 

as they say “absence makes the heart grow fonder” 

 

akutagawa: 

I suppose it is slightly correct. 

 

tachihara: 

ok so!

 

we … more like you are going into that cafe. TOMORROW okay! ur going into that cafe and ur going to find atsushi and TALK to him. if u delay this, lover boy, it’ll only get worse

 

akutagawa: 

And how will I do this successfully? 

 

tachihara: 

tsk. haven’t you heard of persistence? 

Akutagawa sighed. He supposed Tachihara was right. He couldn’t delay this; not after Atsushi had already gotten hurt once from his actions. 

akutagawa:

You’re right. 

-

The next day, Akutagawa forced himself to roll out of bed and get up. He did not want to go anywhere, especially to places where Atsushi was residing, but he knew that he would find himself in Atsushi’s presence sooner or later if he didn’t do it now.  

Tachihara had said it was for the best; honestly, Akutagawa could do nothing else but trust his word.

Still, he couldn't help but feel a dreadful emotion sinking in his stomach. It was like a stone, weighing him down as he approached the cafe. It seemed to be completely bustling with life, which was unusual. Every visit he had made prior to the cafe, there were always spare seats for him to settle himself down into. Now, there was absolutely no place to sit down. 

He clicked his tongue. The cafe should be reserved for students only, he thought as he approached the building.

“Yes, I'll be just a moment!-” a voice was heard, one that Akutagawa recognised immediately. “Oh, there's just a seat over there! Yep, I've been fine myself- oh, that's great to hear!” 

Suddenly, Akutagawa stilled in his tracks. His eyes remained glued on Atsushi as the man ran maniacally around in the cafe uniform, trays of coffee precariously balanced on his arms. He seemed… so happy without Akutagawa. Somehow, that made his heart ache a little more than it did before. 

He's already moved on… Akutagawa’s eyes dimmed as he remained rooted to the spot, watching from afar as Atsushi tackled all the customers with a cheery smile on his face. He wanted to turn back so badly, but Tachihara’s words echoed through his brain. 

NO ur not doing that akutagawa. i dont give one FLYING fuck if youre scared. u fucked up big time and now all of a sudden u want to avoid him?? 

 

u know what that makes u? 

 

A COWARD.

So, he trudged on, blending into the crowd smoothly. Atsushi was slightly in front, still tending to the other customers. He hadn't noticed Akutagawa yet. He swallowed once, before reaching out-

-and touching the air. 

Atsushi had already slithered his way into the cafe, with Akutagawa looking like a fool pawing at air. Had Atsushi noticed him and moved away? The thought hurt, but he knew that he deserved it. Wiggling through the crowd, he managed to make his way inside. It seemed that the orange-haired individual that he had always seen Atsushi with was at the front now, tending to the customers as Atsushi dealt with the cash register.

“Next customer, please!” Atsushi called out, looking around to see any potential buyers. 

Their eyes met.

Atsushi narrowed his eyes in anger. Akutagawa’s eyes softened with guilt in response. 

He had ought to step up before anyone else took his spot. Slowly, he made his way over to the cashier, Atsushi eyeing him warily the entire trip there. He watched Akutagawa as the black-haired man pulled out his wallet, counting the amount of bills in his possession. 

“Well?” Atsushi asked, a bitter edge to his tone. 

“...Just the usual.” Akutagawa mumbled. 

“What's the usual?” Atsushi had his hands balled into fists. “I'm not a mind reader, you know.” He seethed.

“A green tea,” Akutagawa said softly. “One green tea.” 

Atsushi's eyes flickered through a state of surprise for a split second, before hardening again. 

“Sure… sir.” 

“Wait-” Akutagawa said as Atsushi turned away. Atsushi turned right back around. “Can we… Can we talk?” He asked quietly.

“So first you say we aren't friends, and now you want us to talk?” Atsushi spat in his face. “I have a job to tend to. You're not always at the forefront of my mind.” 

“Then I'll wait.” Akutagawa retorted back just as quickly. “I'll wait until your shift’s over. Please.” 

Atsushi grit his teeth, balling his fists as he remained rooted to the ground. “You'll be waiting five hours. Think you can handle that?”

“I'll wait.” 

Atsushi hesitated for a moment, glancing at Akutagawa once more before turning back around. “Wait there.” 

Akutagawa stood there as Atsushi went to deliver his tea, still warily eyeing him the entire time. Hours passed by, as people filed out as the seats began to empty. He could see Atsushi’s face getting heavy with weariness, his eyes beginning to form dark circles as his movements became sloppier. 

Eventually, the end of his shift came, with Atsushi packing his things before walking straight out the door. 

“Hey, Jinko!” Akutagawa called after him, but to no avail. He sighed as he began to run after him, catching up to him in a matter of seconds. “Oi… We… I said I… wanted to talk to you…” 

“Why should I listen to what a traitor has to say to me? All you did was use me.”

“I know I…” Akutagawa trailed off. “I messed up.”

“Well? What's your excuse, Akutagawa? Spit it out.” 

Akutagawa hesitated slightly. He didn't want to admit his weakness; the thought of him knowing Akutagawa’s fatal flaw opened him up to vulnerability. He could be exploited - cheated, even- but the pain of not being able to smile with him hurt even more than the fear of his weakness being exposed. 

“I realised… I was in denial.” 

“W-What?” Atsushi’s eyebrows were knit in confusion. 

“I was in denial.” Akutagawa stated once again “I pretended to- I tried to hide my own emotions and lock them up in a box. I thought if I did, they wouldn't make me vulnerable anymore.” He looked into Atsushi’s gaze; a golden ocean with a bright violet sky intertwining in his irises. “I realise, now. I realised that… the pain of not being able to be there with you is greater than the pain of being vulnerable.” 

Atsushi stifled a sob, before tears glistened his eyes, running down his cheeks. He was… crying? Why was he crying? Akutagawa didn't understand what was so tear jerking about his words. He has simply said what needed to be said, whether he liked it or not. 

“...Why are you crying?”

“I-I never thought… I never thought that you would actually come back for me after- after that argument we had…” Atsushi smiled slightly. “...I'm glad I was wrong.” 

“I've chased someone before, Jinko. I've chased someone, to the brink of death. However, that was a long time ago. For you, though? I'll chase again. I'll chase as many times as I need to, until my blood boils and my skin burns, and my lungs choke with a lack of air.” 

Atsushi stared at him in awe. He noticed that their faces had slowly inched closer to the point where Akutagawa could count each freckle that was dotted on Atsushi’s cheeks, each fleck of gold that swirled around in those alluring eyes of his. 

Then, Atsushi whispered in the quietest voice he could muster, as to not disturb the silent night and the glowing streetlamps surrounding the two.

“Can… Can I kiss you?” 

Akutagawa didn't even need to think twice about that question. He leaned in, but Atsushi kept giggling softly to himself, breaking the mood. 

“W-What’s so funny?” Akutagawa flushed deeply, but Atsushi merely smiled.

“I'm sorry,” he smiled. “I've just never gotten to kiss someone like this before.” 

“Then, I'll be the first.”

Then, his lips claimed Atsushi’s ones softly, like waves gently lapping up the sand on the beach. That warmth he had been yearning for so deeply rushed into his body, spilling into the cracked flaws of himself and making him whole again. Red flowed back into his bloodstream, while yellow coloured his heart in shades of happiness. Orange filled his mind, whilst pink flowed through his fingertips and bled onto Atsushi’s skin, which was also flushing a slight pink. 

The warmth had already taken over the cold a long time ago, Akutagawa concluded; the kiss effectively rid it all. 

The thing about Atsushi’s lips was that they were addicting. Terribly addicting. Akutagawa could easily envision himself running late to lectures because he kissed Atsushi too much. The sweet aroma of sugar lingered on his lips, with the delicate scent of coffee drizzled over his mouth. Atsushi was an entire meal that Akutagawa would never get bored of. 

Eventually, they pulled away and Atsushi pulled Akutagawa into a hug. 

“So… is this friendship resolved?” 

“I’d consider us more than friends at this point,” Atsushi chuckled into Akutagawa’s shoulder. “But yes, we are. At the very least, we are friends.”

“Good,” Akutagawa whispered, mainly because he didn’t know what else to say. “I don’t think I ever want to lose you again.” 

_____________

With some sort of coercion 

He found his assertion 

The warmth crashed over the cold

And this time, it would remain till’ old

_____________

Akutagawa had received his results.

Initially, he was afraid of opening the notification, but with some slight persuasion from Atsushi, the two huddled over his laptop as he looked over to Atsushi for consolation.

“Open it,” Atsushi said softly. “Whatever the result, I'll be proud.”

Akutagawa gulped, before nodding slowly and clicking on the notification.

His eyes widened as he saw the grade that had been plastered onto the screen.

97% • Excellent Achievement 

 

Professor’s Comment (Dazai Osamu):

 

You truly stunned me with this art, Akutagawa. It seems you had emotion in this piece compared to others and you used warm colours instead of cold colours. That's what you were missing; that’s why you didn’t receive marks as high as you could before. You were missing that spark of emotion, that spark of life. Well done. 

Akutagawa was perplexed. Never in his years of attending that university, had he ever gotten anything higher than an 85%. Now, he was sitting here, staring at his 97% grade that he had acquired. 

Professor Dazai said he had been missing that spark of life and Akutagawa finally realised what he had meant. 

Atsushi bloomed into his life like a fresh flower, spreading his delicate scent everywhere he went. Everyone was attracted to him, but Akutagawa had taken the bravery to pluck him out of the ground. 

He turned to Atsushi, who was smiling at him with a sense of pride. 

“You did it, Akutagawa,” Atsushi smiled softly. “You proved it to him.” 

“No,” Akutagawa said, pulling Atsushi into a tender kiss, “we did it. Thank you for believing in me.” 

Thank you, for being that spark I needed to push on.