Chapter Text
Atsushi’s fridge was empty.
This was a fairly uncommon thing. Despite his less-than-stellar pay at the Agency, it was rare for the fridge to be as empty as it was now. Neither he nor Kyouka ate much, and he tried going shopping every weekend for groceries when he had the time. Kyouka would go on the days he was busy, and Atsushi knew he could trust her to get the right things.
I even managed to buy the crab that was on sale two days ago! Kyouka didn’t want to try it, so who would have. . . oh.
“Dazai has a key to the apartment. . .”
Atsushi groaned, feeling his knees go weak. He fell to the floor with his head in his hands, agonizing over the fact that he’d have to go shopping again in the span of two days and spend even more money than he actually had in his bank account.
I should get back at him, he grumbled in the expanse of his mind, by making him do his own paperwork for once.
. . .
That would never work, he’d see right through me. Maybe if I asked Kunikida for help. . .
He sighed and stood up, rubbing his temples once, twice, three times. Thinking of Dazai had only resulted in giving him headaches as of late. Maybe it was the paperwork? The crab? Who knew? At least the man hadn’t started appearing in his dreams.
I’d really be going insane then.
And so, with a heavy heart and lighter wallet, Atsushi slipped into his shoes and began the arduous trek to the market.
⧫
Ultimately, Atsushi decided that he’d have to be more careful this time around, with both his groceries and whoever he chose to give a key to the apartment. Most of the Agency could be trusted with one, sans Dazai and Ranpo. Dazai, for obvious reasons, and Ranpo because the man could and would sneak into anyone’s dorm if he suspected there were snacks in there.
Not that there were many in his, because Atsushi was broke and Kyouka didn’t use the Port Mafia salary Atsushi suspected she still had in her bank account, but still.
Atsushi dug around in his pocket for a moment, pulling out the sole reason he hadn’t succumbed to starvation once again.
Coupons!
He’d managed to get a hold of some and decided that he could indulge just a bit in that pack of chazuke-flavored instant noodles he’d seen as he browsed the aisles. It would alleviate his Dazai-induced headache.
Doing one last basket check to ensure he had everything else he needed, Atsushi went back to the aisle where he’d seen the instant food.
He grabbed two packs and turned, ready to go and pay for everything, when he bumped into something.
Hard.
He stumbled and toppled backwards, the basket falling from his grasp. Atsushi heard the other person fall, too, and was about to apologize when he noticed exactly who lay on the floor in front of him.
Short blond hair tied in a high bun, pretty hazel eyes, and wearing a suit standard for the kind of work she was known to do. It was-
"Er, Higuchi, right?" Atsushi asked, unsure.
Higuchi looked up at him, eyes widening slightly in shock. "Weretiger? What are you doing here?"
"Um, buying groceries. You?"
"Oh, uh,” she stuttered, clearing her throat before continuing, “Akutagawa caught a cold a few days ago, and I bought him some yogurt. But he's better now and he told me to return it," she replied, a hint of dismayed sadness coloring her voice.
Truthfully, Atsushi didn’t know what to say to that. Akutagawa? Sick with a cold?? For some reason, it just didn’t seem possible.
The Port Mafia’s Silent Rabid Dog, held down by bundles and bundles of blankets, defeated by a cold! I just can’t imagine it.
Lost in his musings, Atsushi failed to notice Higuchi stand up and collect her own things. He was broken out of his trance when she extended a hand to him. He blanked for a moment before jolting and taking it, letting her help him to his feet.
“Thanks,” Atsushi told her, bending over to pick up his items, “and I’m sorry for knocking you over.”
Higuchi waved him off. “It’s fine, Weretiger. None of my things were damaged, so no harm done.”
The two stood there for a moment, awkward. It felt kind of weird, Atsushi thought, to be civil like this with a member of the Port Mafia. Truce or not, he was used to associating the mafia with either the scent of blood and smoke permeating his lungs, reminiscent to his previous fights with Akutagawa, or with this new tentative allyship they had going on. The tentative allyship that brought bickering, that safe and comforting feeling from the mafioso’s ability, the swish of a long, black coat, dark eyes anyone could just get lost in-
“Are you ok? Your ears are turning red.”
Atsushi jolted, feeling the embarrassment hit him like a particularly aggressive wave. Wow. Those were definitely not thoughts to have about your enemy-turned-hesitant-partner.
“I’m fine!” he says a little too loudly, “I was just. . . thinking. About. Work?”
She raised a brow. “. . . Right.”
Really, Higuchi’s judgemental eyebrow could make even the most shameless people feel mortified. Atsushi pointedly looked away.
Atsushi felt his phone buzz in his pocket. Grateful for the distraction, he took it out, checking his messages. He looked back up, seeing the other still standing there. He scratched the back of his head.
“So, um, I kinda have to run,” he began, “Kyouka just texted me asking about the groceries. It was nice talking to you. Thanks for not killing me or, like, threatening to shoot me with your guns.”
Higuchi wrinkled her nose slightly. “Please, I’m not that crass. If I wanted to shoot you, I’d wait until we were alone to do it.”
Is that supposed to make me feel better?!
“Fortunately for you,” she continued, “Akutagawa would be rather upset with me if I did manage to kill you, and I also don’t want to upset the truce between our organizations. So I’ll be heading out. Have a nice day, Weretiger.”
“You too.”
Atsushi watched her go to one of the check-outs, place the bag of yogurts and the receipt onto the counter, and walk out of the store. He despaired internally.
She didn’t even wait to get her money back! That Port Mafia salary is no joke!
Barely registering what he was doing, Atsushi paid for his items and left the store as well, thinking about the exchange the entire way home. It sort of reminded him of that time he and Kunikida had temporarily teamed up with her to find Gin. Atsushi had actually really enjoyed that day, even though he did feel slight pity towards Katai for getting rejected. Higuchi was actually pretty nice when she wasn’t waving those guns around.
Oh well. It was fun while it lasted. Atsushi doubted he’d be running into her again.
⧫
He kept running into her.
It was always in the most random places too!
If Atsushi wanted to take a walk in the park, guess what? Higuchi was sitting on a bench, watching the sky. Atsushi wanted to buy a book that Yosano recommended? Higuchi had already bought the last copy. Kyouka demanded Atsushi take her to buy her weekly crepe? Surprise, surprise, Higuchi just bought hers and was on the phone, rushing back to work!
The two would always stop and wave at each other, because they knew how to be civil, c’mon, but it was still weird. He barely ran into members from the Port Mafia on his days off before, so seeing the same one over and over in the span of two weeks was making him a bit suspicious.
Wasn't the mafia supposed to be super busy? Why did Higuchi suddenly have all this free time?!
Maybe the mafia finally got sick of the truce and sent Higuchi to spy on me so that they can kill me when my guard is down! The Guild can’t have been the only organization who set a bounty on my head!
When he relayed this to Kyouka, she only gave him a blank stare and walked away, eating the crepe he’d just bought her. Atsushi had caught up to her, trying to properly explain his theories.
“If the mafia wanted to send someone to spy on you,” she’d said, “then they would pick someone better suited for stealth. She’s far too loud and a bit clumsy. She’d never work. Besides,” she removed her blade from its sheath, “I’d kill anyone who tries to hurt you.”
Atsushi had nodded, once again finding himself grateful for this girl he could call a sister. “Thanks, Kyouka.”
And Kyouka had smiled, taken his hand, and the two walked back to their shared dorm, ready to sit back and relax on their shared day off.
But moving on.
It was still weird. Sure, maybe the mafia wasn’t using her to spy on him, but then why did they keep meeting? He’d narrowed his theories down to three:
- It was actually just pure coincidence (Atsushi was highly doubtful of this one)
- Higuchi was stalking him for some reason (which also didn’t make sense, since she was always there before him. Wait, so was he unknowingly stalking her?)
- The mafia was actually spying on him, and they sent someone very much NotStealthyTM to throw him off (ok, this one was kind of a stretch, but hear him out-)
By the end of this, Atsushi was beginning to doubt his ability as a detective.
Ranpo might be right when he tells the Agency to leave the hard cases to him.
Atsushi had been walking his way to work earlier than usual to complete the stack of Dazai's paperwork from the day before when he saw her. Again.
"Ok, that's it!" he screeched, grabbing Higuchi by the arm and dragging her away. Despite her struggle, his tiger strength moved the both of them along with little trouble. The two ended up inside an alley, and Atsushi felt a faint sense of deja vu from their first meeting.
He let go of her, but not before standing at the entrance of the alley, blocking her escape. Higuchi herself grabbed the gun from her back pocket and pointed it at him. Atsushi met it head-on.
"What the hell, Weretiger?!" she snarled, "Dragging me like that into an alley? Are you looking to become a slice of Swiss cheese?"
". . ."
". . ."
"Did you just-"
"Yeah, it sounded way more embarrassing out loud." A pause. "That doesn't matter! Answer me now!"
"I think you're the one who owes ME answers!" yelled Atsushi, "I've been seeing you around way too often for it to be a coincidence!" He transformed his arms into the tiger's claws and held them up, ready to attack. "Has the Port Mafia finally decided to break the truce?"
Higuchi looked positively outraged. "WHAT? You dragged me into an alley, accused my organization of disturbing the peace, and are pointing those at me because we keep running into each other?!"
Atsushi paused for a moment to ponder. When she put it like that, he really did seem like an asshole. So he retracted the claws. "You're right, sorry. But that still doesn't explain why we've been running into each other this much."
Higuchi lowered her gun slightly, though it was still ready in case she needed to make a quick escape. "Are you stalking me?" she asked. Atsushi blinked.
"What."
"Well," she said, blushing slightly, "we do run into each other, yes, but it's always you who finds me , not the other way around," she raised her gun back up, "So what else am I supposed to think?"
"Um ok so," said Atsushi, cringing at how plausible her logic sounded, "I'm not stalking you. I don't have a reason to. Really."
She wrinkled her nose, disbelieving.
"I promise! I'm a bad liar and a worse actor, so I think you can tell that I'm not lying."
Higuchi processed his words for a minute before finally putting her gun down. The two stood there silent and stared. Atsushi fiddled with his gloves before moving away from the entrance of the alley. "I'm so sorry!" he exclaimed, bowing.
The blonde jumped slightly at the volume of his voice. She waved him off, looking a bit uncomfortable. "It's. . . don't worry about it. I should probab-"
Her voice was cut off by Atsushi's stomach rumbling loudly. He felt his face heat up almost immediately.
It couldn't wait until I got to the Agency? Really?
Atsushi buried his face in his palms. His voice was muffled when he spoke. "I'll-I'll go on ahead then, to work. Um, I'm sorry for bothering you-”
“Weretiger.”
Atsushi snapped up at the stern tone.
“You’re coming with me.”
⧫
The weretiger was looking at her with wide eyes, posture tense and looking a bit skittish. Ichiyou supposed she could have phrased her request a bit differently. She rubbed her forehead.
“I’m not going to kill you or anything,” she started, “It’s just that it wouldn’t feel right on my conscience if I let you go to work without eating.”
He immediately started protesting. Ichiyou tuned him out and walked over, grabbing him by the tie and dragging him out of the alley. Before the tiger could say anything about that, she cut in with a sharp, “Listen, consider this a proper apology to me for interrupting my day and dragging me in here,” and he promptly shut up and let her drag him away.
The two walked for about 10 minutes before stopping in front of a nice-looking cafe. Ichiyou herself frequented the place for its delicious cakes and pretty decorations.
She led him in wordlessly, sitting down at her usual table. The tiger did the same, albeit much quieter. A waiter came by after a few minutes, offering them menus. Ichiyou took them and handed one to the man sitting across from her, not even sparing it a glance. She already knew what she wanted, after all.
Instead, she took the moment to think. Truthfully speaking, Ichiyou had only really invited the tiger out because Akutagawa was fond of him (her superior didn’t know that she knew, but it’s not like he did a very good job of hiding it) and would probably be pissed if he found out the other was neglecting his health.
(And maybe it would genuinely weigh badly on her conscience to have him go without eating like that. Sure they were from different organizations and the other was an adult who could do what he damn well pleased, but Ichiyou liked to think she was a decent person when she wasn’t filling people with bullets.)
Anyway, the point is that she was doing this because Akutagawa would be displeased if he found out and because Ichiyou hadn’t had the chance to visit the cafe in a while. Work had been getting hectic, and she rarely found a moment to simply unwind and relax, so this was a nice escape.
Though the company could be. . . better.
If only I had the courage to go up to Gin and invite her out here. Ahhh!
The sound of footsteps approaching snapped her out of her thoughts of Gin. Ichiyou looked up, saw the waiter, and relayed her order. The tiger did the same.
The two of them sat in awkward silence as they waited for their orders to arrive. Ichiyou looked out the window, a forced expression of boredom present on her face.
Maybe. . . maybe I didn’t think this through very well , she thought, We have nothing to talk about!
“So,” said the tiger, dragging out the “o” sound for a second longer than normal. So he felt awkward, too. Nice. “What nice. . . weather we’re having, don’t you think?” Ichiyou blinked.
Of all possible conversation starters out there in the world, did you have to pick the most basic, pathetic one?!
“Sorry not everyone is good at coming up with conversation starters,” he sniped.
Ichiyou clapped her hand over her mouth and felt her eyes go wide. The other looked mildly amused at her reaction, humor dancing in his heterochromatic eyes. She glared at him half-heartedly and removed her hand. “Sorry,” she said, “I wasn’t aware I said that out loud.”
The tiger huffed amusedly. “It’s fine,” he replied. “Everyone tells me I mumble a lot, too. It’s a habit.” Ichiyou hummed in response.
Silence fell upon them once more. For about 30 seconds.
“What reason did you have for inviting me here?” he asked.
“I already told you. It’s your apology for dragging me away like that and then being rude enough to yell at me for it.”
A sigh. “Can’t we call it even? You did trick me and the Agency, nearly killed us with that gun of yours, AND called Akutagawa back when we first met. I’m still salty about my leg, you know.”
“. . . It grew back.”
“That’s not the point,” the tiger groaned exasperatedly, rubbing at his eyes with the palms of his hands. Ichiyou felt the same way, though she didn’t show it. She supposed she would be just as curious – and much more agitated – if someone from an enemy organization invited her to coffee without telling her why. Or at least, the real reason why. If she suspected they were lying to her, they’d already have a bullet through their eyes.
“I’m. . .” she said, trailing off for a minute. What? What could she say? That she felt Akutagawa would be upset? No! Of course not! If she uttered those words and they somehow ended up relayed to her superior, she’d never live it down! What was worse was that she didn’t know what Akutagawa would kill her for: implying that he had feelings for the tiger (which, again, was true anyway) or for actually telling the tiger of said feelings. Ichiyou had plans before she inevitably left this world. She wasn’t dying until she had taken Gin out on at least one date!
So she very well couldn’t say that. Maybe she could say that she felt pity. Wasn’t the Agency paying him? Was he so broke that he couldn’t even afford breakfast?
The tiger had long removed his hands from his eyes, waiting for her to continue. Ichiyou's remarks died in her throat.
I can’t say that! I may kill people for a living but that doesn’t mean I have to comment on someone’s living situation like a jerk!
She could feel the awkward atmosphere slowly begin to return, but was too busy trying to find an answer to properly acknowledge it. Unbeknownst to her, the tiger was staring right at her. He sighed.
“How was. . . the book?” he asked her hesitantly. She looked at him in confusion.
“What?”
“You know,” he continued hesitantly, “the book you bought recently. About the princess and the ghost.”
Ichiyou had, in fact, bought that book recently. What she wondered about was how the tiger knew about it. Something must have shown on her face because he rushed to explain.
“I’m not following you! It’s just that Yosano thought I’d like the book and recommended it to me. I went to buy it on one of the days we ran into each other.”
Now that he mentioned it, Ichiyou remembered she had run into him that day. What she also remembered was-
“I bought the last copy,” she realized. He gave her a small smile.
The waiter arrived with their orders. He set them down quickly before leaving. Ichiyou poked at her dessert as she watched the tiger take a sip of his coffee and sigh into the cup. She opened her mouth to answer his question from earlier.
“It wasn’t bad. I haven’t finished the book yet, but I don’t have many complaints about it. I didn’t take you for much of a romantic though?”
She saw the tips of his ears turn bright red at that. “I’m really not,” he said, “but. . . it’s a nice idea, you know?”
“What is?” she asked.
He hesitated before continuing. “The idea of soulmates. Knowing there’s someone out there who will love you despite everything.”
Ah. Ichiyou recalled what little she knew of his past. Of near-death experiences at the hand of someone meant to be trusted, someone meant to care. It made sense, she supposed, that he would want something like a soulmate.
“I guess,” she said instead. “Would you. . . like to borrow the book?”
The tiger looked at her in surprise, not having expected that, clearly. “Again, I’m not quite done with it, but if you want, we could. . . set up another meeting like this and I could loan it to you,” Ichiyou explained. “Not many people in the mafia have time to read, and those who do aren’t really fans of the romance genre.”
Not outwardly, at least. I could’ve sworn I saw Hirotsu sneak a romance novel into his office that one time. . .
She saw the tiger contemplate her words and suddenly felt embarrassed at her suggestion. Why would he be taking so long to answer if it wasn’t a bad idea? They were still from rival organizations, truce or not! Why’d she have to go and impulsively ask that?!
But before she could take back her words and wave them off, the tiger replied with a quiet, “I’d like that. Thank you.”
And well. Now she couldn’t take it back. Even if she wanted to (it surprised her to find out she didn’t really mind).
With that, the last of the awkward tension in the air seeped away. They spent the rest of their morning together in that decorative cafe, talking and just enjoying each other’s company.
⧫
The tiger checked his phone after the two had finished and Ichiyou had paid and tipped – he’d protested at that, insisting that she’d brought him here to treat her as an apology, but she merely cocked her brow and him to save up because he was paying next time – and turned as white as a sheet, letting out a quiet “oh shit.” She looked at him curiously.
“Oh man, Kunikida’s gonna kill me! I’m late to work!”
He collected his bag and slipped it on himself before rising quickly. Ichiyou followed suit, and the two walked out, thanking their waiter as they exited. She grabbed him by the arm before he could sprint away.
“Give me your phone. I’ll put in my number so we can plan the next meet-up,” she told him. He obliged, handing her his older phone model. Seriously, how much was his salary?
Ichiyou put in her number and handed it back. The tiger turned to run, but paused and turned back. “Thanks for today, Higuchi. And thanks for, ah, treating me despite how the morning started.”
“It was nothing, Weretiger. Just be sure to have your wallet ready for next time,” she said, smirking. He frowned at that.
“You do know my actual name, right? Nakajima Atsushi, Higuchi. Enough with the “weretiger.” You remind me of Akutagawa when you say it.”
And when Akutagawa finally confesses to him, it’s likely going to be an endearing nickname! Wait. It probably is one now! I can’t have Akutagawa upset at me over a nickname!
“Alright then, Nakajima.”
At that, he gave her a bright smile before turning back and sprinting like hell. It was a good thing Ichiyou wasn’t due at her workplace until the afternoon. Alas, she had nothing better to do at the moment, so she supposed it wouldn’t be bad if she showed up earlier than usual. So, she walked.
Ichiyou had actually enjoyed her morning with the ti- with Nakajima. Much like the time they went Gin-hunting, she found herself oddly at ease around the other. He was awkward and kind of shy at first glance, but was sarcastic (and kind of mean, funnily enough!) once you spent more than 10 minutes with him. He was loud. But quiet (his shrieks and squeaks of shock were direct contrasts to his more muted laughter).
The two still weren’t close, not really, but despite Ichiyou's initial desire to have different company to share her time with, she found she couldn’t wait to meet up with him again.
⧫
It wasn’t until later in the day when she made a realization so big she dropped her enormous stack of paperwork and gasped so loud that Tachihara jumped a meter in the air.
If he reads the book and ends up really liking it, then that means he’ll become a romantic too! Then I can finally recommend cheesy romance novels to someone else and discuss them in. Extensive. Detail. I can’t wait!!