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1 year. An entire year dating his biggest enemy, that he never had fully hated. It was surreal to notice how far they had arrived since their first meeting, that had literally been an attempt on his life conducted by so called boyfriend now.
Every month since they had been dating, they took turns organizing their anniversaries. Akutagawa always went over the top, taking him to the most expensive and exclusive restaurants in Japan. Atsushi always tried to personalize those days, either cooking for his boyfriend or with heartfelt handmade gifts and surprises that showed how much he cared.
There was an anxious care that neither of them realized in those little acts. With similar childhoods, different things had scarred them. The cold of poverty had never fully abandoned Akutagawa even with thousands and thousands accumulating in his offshore bank accounts. With every over-the-top fancy dinner, with every penthouse VIP suit he got for them, he kept trying to show Atsushi that he would never let that cold get to them again. That all the struggles they grew up surrounded with were simply things of the past.
But poverty never stuck with Atsushi. It wasn’t comfortable, or any sort of enjoyable. It was its own torture, a specific feeling that unless you’ve been through, you can’t fully comprehend. But it was bearable. The hunger was nothing compared to the cruelness and carelessness he had endured from everyone around him. That hunger would’ve have been easily handled if he would’ve had a friendly smile accompanying it. That loneliness haunted him, the distrust on kindness that he saw mirrored in Akutagawa’s eyes.
He wasn’t even sure if Akutagawa was aware of how void of hope he was. As grateful as he was for Dazai, he resented him the same amount for all the trauma he had perpetuated in an already traumatized child. Like he fully expected every single person in the world to turn against him at any time, no matter how close to him they were. Every other month, Atsushi tried desperately to drown that all that bitter cruelty in tooth rotting acts of thoughtfulness, like if he could suffocate all that pain with kindness, his soul would feel hugged the way neither of them ever were.
Maybe because of that, he was so nervous for their one-year anniversary. He loved Akutagawa’s plans, and he understood where he was coming from but for their one-year anniversary he really would’ve preferred making the plans. Something simpler, something that would remind his boyfriend that he was loved immensely. But they had a deal, and sure enough a week before their anniversary two first class ticket to Sweden had been strategically placed in his bedside table.
His bedside table. What a concept. It was as his as he wasn’t, since he hadn’t officially moved in with Akutagawa. He still had his room with Kyouka back the agency dorms, but it basically served as a depository to his extra clothes. Extra clothes; another fascinating concept. The privilege to have more garments than the one clung to your skin, and not have to use those until they rot and tear.
When they had started dating a pouch was all he needed to transport his possessions, but before every date a new outfit had the tendency to magically appear on his dorm or on top of Akutagawa’s bed with a note saying: “look nice for me today”. That was the way Akutagawa had found to turn gifts that his severely self-conscious monetary wise boyfriend would consider debts, into favors Atsushi did for him, without ever showing any sort of vulnerability, the little clenching of his heart every time Atsushi wanted to store unfixable shredded outfits, just in case one day that would be all he’d have.
They’ve come a long way since then, Atsushi realized, laying down for their 10-hour flight on a first-class suite that was far cozier than any place he had ever called a home.
He spent the flight sleeping wondering if Akutagawa in the cabin next to him would be doing the same. It was the 12 April. One day before their anniversary. He wondered where Akutagawa could be taking him. After a thorough search on the web about Sweden, fueled by the curiosity of his boyfriend picking their first oversea trip to a country neither of them had ever expressed remote interest in visiting, he realized he was more lost than before his search. The only things that caught his attention were the aurora borealis, the midnight sun and the ice hotels. But Akutagawa wasn’t big on nature, and he preferred to keep his room as warm as snake terrariums usually were.
The small black limo waiting for them at the airport didn’t really give him any other clue of what it would be. The thick opaque black blindfold Akutagawa asked him to put didn’t help him either. His concept of time was already warped from a 10-hour flight to a place seven hours behind. Maybe he should’ve stayed awake and figure out if he could discover where they were heading by the sounds outside, but despite not appreciating the theatrically comparisons to cats his boyfriend always did whenever he wanted to sleep on his lap, he still took every single opportunity, including being blindfolded on a foreign country with no clue where he was going, to do just that.
Soft, shaky hands woke him up, from his (cat) sleep and helped him out of the car without ever taking the blindfold off. A walk in trust of 4 steps until the formerly mentioned blindfold was carefully removed from his eyes and he was bombarded with far too much sunlight to be immediately aware of his surroundings.
When he got used to it, the vision of blue and yellow that he was confronted with dazed him to no end. All his guesses of extreme luxury and wealthy activities fell short compared to the monument of sentimental value in front of him. He was amazed, confused and above all extremely curious on the particular reason that led to his current whereabouts.
Looking back, his boyfriend had a beautiful side smile, the one he only got when he felt a triumphant pleasure in hiding a surprise. Without giving any explanations, or hints on what they were doing there he simply said:
“Ready to go inside?”
They had been dating for 3 months when Akutagawa’s home had been compromised and he had to move to a new apartment. Another fully furnished penthouse that would have been used as a set for a cheap vampire show, just like the one he had before. He didn’t seem upset about it, but Atsushi couldn’t help but think he was just hiding his frustration. Even his dorm that he shared with Kyouka had memories that would tug his heart with nostalgia if he ever moved to a better place.
To cheer him up he decided to take part of his savings and get him a housewarming gift. Not just any gift, something Akutagawa would pick himself, on an Ikea date, a date idea he always had thought was really cute even before they were dating. His boyfriend seemed less than thrilled about the idea.
“Why would I go to a cheap furniture store when my house already comes furnished?”
But albeit his complaints, he still went to the infamous store. The list of places he never imagined himself visiting got shorter everyday thanks to Atsushi, always dragging him to questionable mundane experiences. It was always worth it, even walking through poorly decorated showrooms just to see his eyes glisten with excitement as he went on talking about what he liked and didn’t like about them.
“There’s just something nice about imagining all the different lives that could be lived in these rooms, even for yourself. I like to think about the type of life we would have, if this was our living room or that was our bedroom.”
Something in Akutagawa’s stomach turned in a hopeful yet terrifying way seeing Atsushi so absorbed in his rant that he didn’t even realize what the use of the possessive pronoun “ours” implied. The way he so carelessly admitted to think of a future with them together left him in awe. Akutagawa wasn’t ready to unpack how ready he was for that future, so he simply stayed silent, following his boyfriend across the endless hallways of displayed clutter, finally picking a red metal multi use fruit bowl that could also serve as a lamp, because multi-purpose practicality should be prioritized over actual practicability.
Getting home, his new home, his tastefully and void of personality full furnished home, he put the fruit bowl on the counter. Atsushi didn’t understand why he wasn’t upset about having to change houses but that’s because he couldn’t understand nothing in that house ever felt like Akutagawa’s in the first place. Just replicas of the same overly sophisticated hideouts in disguise. A cleverly padded war house, a bed to sleep in without ever resting, storage deposits with outfits that served as weapons disguised as closets, and food to keep him alive in the place they’re usually maintained. The only thing he could ever miss if his house was burned to bits, was the jacket he didn’t trust anywhere but his own body to keep safe.
Until now, he smiled internally looking at the bowl with 13 figs. Now he had one thing in his home, he would mind being without. And although that thought was terrifying, it brought some unexpected comfort with it.
“What are we doing here?” Atsushi asked with confusion matching his curiousness.
“Doing at Ikea?”
“Doing at Ikea in Sweden yes.”
“At the oldest Ikea that happens to be in Sweden you mean.” And before Atsushi had time to react, Akutagawa went inside leaving Atsushi with an implicit invite to follow him.
So, he did, still really confused and a slightly annoyed at the bigger picture Akutagawa was clearly planning that he still didn’t have access to. There must be a reason his boyfriend made them go through a 10-hour flight to the other side of the world just to drag him to the “oldest Ikea in Sweden” 30 minutes before closing time.
He wondered if there was a secret passage to the nearest 4 seasons hidden beneath them. That would be the only explanation he could muster for their current location. He kept pestering Akutagawa as they walked at a slightly faster pace than one normally does when looking through showrooms, until he finally caved in and said cryptically:
“We’re going to take another thing of your bucket list.”
Atsushi’s bucket list. Another surrealistic concept if you went back in time and told him about it. A life with enough stability and liberty that he could afford to have a list of things he wanted to do though out, boldly assuming he wouldn’t starve to death in less than 3 days at all times. A little grey notebook that Kunikida had given him for his birthday for that specific reason contained an always expanding list of things he wanted to do before dying. From trying certain rare candies that Ranpo had described in excruciating detail to places Dazai had briefly mentioned visiting on missions back at the port mafia. But in between those, there were a lot of unrealistic things that he didn’t necessarily plan to ever cross out. It was just nice to know he’d always have something to look forward to.
Sneaking past security and having a sleepover at Ikea was one of those, something silly that he smiled thinking about, but never actively planned on accomplishing. And if he ever did, never in a million years would have he thought it would happen in Sweden.
He wondered what was going through Akutagawa’s mind as he walked with fierce focus without ever letting go of his hand. They were probably heading to some hideout Akutagawa had searched beforehand. He wondered how safe that hideout would really be, or if he’d have to try to stop his boyfriend from starting a bloodbath if they were asked to leave.
Akutagawa wasn’t completely sold on his own plan either. In hindsight he could’ve done things simpler, but Atsushi deserved the best. Although his idea could’ve easily have been done in Yokohama’s Ikea, a prettier place in his opinion, that wasn’t the part that he was dreading. No, the thing he was rethinking was the morals he had decided to uphold during this date. A glint of concern in the midst of the excitement in Atsushi’s eyes showed him that he was thinking the same thing, so naturally, he had to prove him wrong and be on his best behavior. He would still leave murder as plan B just in case. Luckily for them plan A seemed that it was going to work.
Plan A: Hide in a small showroom pantry until closing time and after that wait exactly 13 minutes. A time frame calculated by the freelance hacker who worked for the mafia occasionally, that after those 13 minutes, the time it took until the last employee close shop, would then shut down the cameras and play footage from another day.
Akutagawa had underestimated the meaning of the word small. There was a total of 3 blind spots in the showrooms that he could have chosen to hide in. Between a closet, a bathroom and a pantry, the pantry had sounded the more accommodating space wise for two people. In reality, they barely had space to breathe.
In the end, they stayed there less than half an hour, but it had felt like an eternity from the moment he softly pushed Atsushi Inside and instructed him to stay silent, realizing that he couldn’t do anything but to look at his lover’s face for the next 30 minutes if they wanted to keep the ruse, to the moment all the lights turned off and he could move to a distance where his beating heart wouldn’t betray all the emotions he couldn’t help but overpouring every time he was near Atsushi.
Maybe time would’ve passed faster if Atsushi didn’t have segmental heterochromia. If his eyes were a simpler color, instead of lepidolite purple fading to the yellow of daylight. There would never be enough stolen glances that could acquaint him to the sight of those eyes. He would’ve happily spent those 30 minutes trying to unfold the mystery of such beauty, but Atsushi didn’t seem to share the same opinion.
Atsushi had to go and ruin his peaceful reverie with a kiss. Not like the kiss they usually shared, this one felt different. A simple fleeting peck devoid of any intention and yet overcharged with emotion. That overbearing kindness that made his stomach drop every fucking time, that kindness he felt so unworthy that he craved so. He was grateful for the lights going down a few mere moments after that. Maybe Atsushi didn’t notice the single tear flooded with gratitude for his boyfriend that inevitably rolled down his eye.
The lights didn’t stay down for long, and soon enough they were raiding the cafeteria. He didn’t understand the appeal of poorly seasoned meatballs, but Atsushi’s enthusiasm was at the very least endearing if not contagious. They lit some candles in the fanciest dinner room that was fully staged as a dinner party and enjoyed their dinner while Atsushi ranted on all the things he was excited to do. And then he asked:
“What about you? What do you want to do?”
Akutagawa’s heart skipped a beat. There it was, the opening he was waiting for since they had arrived, a chance to take the silver and golden box that was weighting its secrecy on his pocket the whole trip.
“I just want you to pick something for the apartment.”
“What apartment?” There’s it was. His last chance to back out. His commitment issues hated him in that moment. They only needed a glimpse of doubt to slither into his thoughts and make him rethink his decision. But there wasn’t any they could clung into. And when he gave his reply, the only reluctance in Akutagawa’s voice was a slight apprehension, a fear of rejection, of moving too fast and scaring the person he wanted closer everyday further away than ever.
“Our apartment.” He said sliding the box through the table, seeing it abruptly stop in front of Atsushi who opened it excitedly to reveal a silver key glistening against the golden bottom.
“Move in with me.” Not a question, an affirmation, to give him the illusion of control, for a few more seconds.
On that day, unbeknownst to the rest of humanity, time froze on a showroom at Ikea after closing time. The air seemed to hold still as Akutagawa contemplated his boyfriend contemplating their entire life on the reflection of a key.
“Our”. What a concept. Sharing a house not out of necessity but out of love. Moving to the hideout of the organization he always ended up fighting against. It was a crazy request, one that took him less than a couple of seconds to promptly agree with. Akutagawa was his home, regardless of living arrangements.
They spent hours roaming through an infinite maze of life-sized dollhouses, seeing glimpses of what their future life could entail, shamelessly flirting like the awkward teens they had never been allowed to be.
In the end Atsushi found himself enamored with a set of grey mugs and a matching tea pot whose shade was suspicious similar to Akutagawa’s eyes. They ended up the night by raiding the cafeteria once again, this time going for the ice cream machine and the infinite stock of gummies. Once they were satisfied with their exaggerated creations, they picked a bedroom with a tv and laid happily watching the 7-minute loop of the Truman show that had been preprogrammed to it. The key moment in the movie, when he realizes he’s being watched.
Atsushi wondered what it would feel like, to find out his entire life was fake, just something created on a screen that people could watch or read while enjoying a cup of coffee never wondering if he was more than the part he played unwillingly. He laid his head on Akutagawa’s shoulder and noticed him distractedly playing with his hair. He decided he’d be cool with it, as long Akutagawa wasn’t playing a part either. With that epiphany fresh on his mind, he drifted to sleep.
They got up early the next day, taking the mugs and the tea pot, some display items from the showrooms that weren’t even for sale and a keychain in the shape of a mini-Ikea bag for Atsushi’s new keys, leaving 30 minutes before opening time.
On their way to the airport, they stopped by a 3-star Michelin restaurant. Atsushi couldn’t help but smile while enjoying his blue lobster with crispy rice. Akutagawa always looked at home in places like this. Atsushi had a slight suspicion that he had been an emperor in his past life. He wondered what he himself would’ve been in that past life. He couldn’t imagine himself ruling an empire, but he couldn’t imagine himself having an entire lifetime apart from Akutagawa. Maybe a personal guard, a soldier trying to protect the emperor who didn’t need protection in the first place. A reality where he was chosen to protect the person he loved most instead of being the one designed to fight him. Sometimes the paradox consisting of their opposite lines of work got to him and he wondered if they, as a couple, would be able to survive it. Would it be enough to sit together in the trenches, just to go back to opposite sides of the battlefield?
He thought of that the entire flight home. 10 hours Is a long time to sit down and think about the next step your relationship is about to take without inevitably taking a look back on where everything started and every single step that led them where they were today, on a plane above petty crimes and organizations. There was only one inevitable conclusion he could reach.
When they got home, Atsushi peacefully washed every mug one by one and then carefully rearranged the cabinet in a way that gave him space to the new additions, and then he sighed peacefully basking in his work: a piece of him in Akutagawa’s place, their place.
They decided to spend what was left of their anniversary watching “The Truman Show”, the whole movie this time, since Akutagawa had never seen it and had become curious over those 7 minutes. He was completely absorbed In Truman’s tragic story while Atsushi attention hovered through the whole room. From the pillows they were leaning on that they had won for each other at the fair, to the fruit bowl he could see on the Tv’s reflection behind them that they had gotten their first visit to Ikea, his presence was already smeared all over their home. The leap of faith he was taking, wasn’t a leap at all, but an inevitable culmination of where their story had been heading. He clung securely to Akutagawa realizing for the first time in his life that he was home and home wasn’t a place he was looking forward to leave.
That night before going to bed, Atsushi grabbed his bucket list to tick off his Ikea sleepover, and wrote down something he was sure he would cross off someday:
“Marry Akutagawa.”