Chapter Text
The truck bed is uncomfortable and hard beneath Atsushi’s knees. The texture of the plastic digs into his skin despite his thick pants, leaving little dents around his knees and ankles. Normally, Atsushi wouldn’t care less about voicing his complaints – especially to Akutagawa – but after three days of constant stake-outs and sleepless nights, Atsushi can’t find the energy to even feel uncomfortable…he just wishes they didn’t have to use a Ford F150 in their attempt to remain “incognito.”
The “abandoned” warehouse still remains silent despite Ranpo identifying it as their target’s hideout and Atsushi is beginning to feel restless. Akutagawa has never been a particularly talkative partner and this mission isn’t any different.
Three days ago, Ranpo and Dazai finally identified the hideout of Haruto Daiki – an extremely powerful gifted who recently began stirring up more trouble than he’s worth. At first, the agency wasn’t sure what the nature of this gifted’s ability was – the only things left behind being a uniquely gruesome crime scene.
However, thankfully for the agency, Haruto quickly became overconfident and forgot about the presence of a cleverly hidden security camera that caught the entirety of his most recent murder. Atsushi remembers the video vividly. He never wants to watch someone get their bones crushed to a powder ever again.
Unfortunately, his dreams haven’t adhered to his wishes, replaying the gruesome video in his mind’s eye almost every night.
Atsushi glances to where Akutagawa sits to his right, leaning his chin on the edge of the truck bed. The bags under his eyes seem much darker than normal and his coughing fits have become more and more often. Atsushi winces in sympathy. It looks like he isn’t the only one who hasn’t slept since their mission began.
“Why are you staring at me?”
Akutagawa’s words abruptly snap Atsushi back to his rather uncomfortable reality. “I’m not staring at you.” the younger boy states. Atsushi knows it’s a subpar excuse, but he can’t exactly help it. Something about spending extended time with his rival (partner?) decreases Atsushi’s brain function.
He’s just so frustrating. He firmly tells himself, dragging his eyes back to the still-motionless warehouse. For whatever reason, that excuse doesn’t feel entirely true.
As the sun sets, the metal of the truck bed cools and goosebumps erupt on every inch of Atsushi’s body. The warehouse is quickly hidden in the shadows of the city and Akutagawa seems to be coughing more often than not. Even if their target were to jump out of a window and begin dancing in the street, they wouldn’t be able to see it. Atsushi mourns the lack of streetlights in this area.
Once his watch reads eleven o’clock, Atsushi throws in the towel, wordlessly rising to his feet. Akutagawa watches as he makes his way over to the passenger seat but doesn’t say anything, too tired to care. This three day stake-out can’t come to an end soon enough – at least not where Atsushi is concerned.
“Scoot.” Atsushi demands once he’s returned to the truck bed, sleeping bag in hand. Akutagawa doesn’t react, still staring lifelessly at the warehouse.
“Hey, scoot.” Atsushi says again, flicking his partner on the crown of his head – something he never would have dreamed of doing a month ago – and unzipping the sleeping bag. “I’m going to spread out the bed.”
Calling their mediocre set-up a “bed” gives it too much credit. In reality, their sleeping situation is simply a fully unzipped sleeping bag spread out on the bed of the truck with a blanket for each of them. Originally, the plan was for each boy to simply bring their own sleeping bag, but considering their very limited packing space, they decided to save room where they could.
“Don’t flick me.” Akutagawa says, rubbing his head as if the light tap actually hurt. Atsushi rolls his eyes at his partner’s antics and continues to spread out the sleeping bag. “You’re tired already? It’s barely eleven.”
Atsushi rolls his eyes at his partner’s judgmental tone. “Oh, please. You’ve been yawning for the past half-hour. And we have to get up early if we want to finish this mission tomorrow.”
Akutagawa scoffs indignantly, yet steps out of the truck bed without another word. Atsushi watches with a private smile as his partner trudges over to the passengers seat, presumably to grab their blankets.
Huh…partner… Atsushi muses, spreading out the open sleeping bag and covering the uncomfortable metal and plastic. I’m not sure if I like that or not.
The pair continue their nightly routine which consists of awkwardly changing into their pajamas – predictably, Akutagawa keeps his coat on – followed by silently laying side by side in the truck bed.
Atsushi has never been a fan of sleeping outside…the crisp, cool air reminds him of his life before Dazai saved him. He can’t help but wonder if Akutagawa feels the same way.
However, despite the hard metal stabbing him through the sleeping bag and the breeze ruffling his hair, Atsushi can’t help but feel content. Some may call him foolish for feeling so at ease beside the Port Mafia’s Rabid Dog, but recently Atsushi hasn’t been able to see him that way.
When Atsushi looks at the man with permanently sunken eyes, a lingering cough, and bangs just as destroyed as his own, all he sees is Akutagawa – his partner.
Now that I’m thinking about it…that doesn’t sound too bad.
It must be exhaustion that loosens the mafioso’s tongue. “You know, I haven’t been back here in six years.”
Furrowing his brow, Atsushi props himself up on his elbow so he can properly see the other man. The darkness partly clouds Akutagawa’s face, only the moonlight illuminating his pasty skin. His expression is blank, not giving away any sort of reasoning behind his sudden statement.
“What are you talking about?” Atsushi asks. His voice is quiet, not disturbing the peaceful atmosphere surrounding the truck.
For a while, the only answer Atsushi receives is the distant passing of cars and the occasional gunshot. This area would not be considered safe by any means…that’s probably why their target chose this location for his hideout. No one here would think twice about a few screams.
“I grew up here.” Akutagawa says, voice so quiet that Atsushi has to lean closer to hear him. If the mafioso notices, he doesn’t mention it. “Dazai-san actually found me about a mile north of here.”
“Huh.” Atsushi says eloquently. Akutagawa doesn’t willingly share personal information very often, so he isn’t sure what to say. With every new detail Atsushi learns about his partner, it’s almost as if a puzzle piece falls into place. At first, Atsushi thought that the mafioso was a mindless killing machine, but now he can see that Akutagawa is just as human as he is.
“How does it feel?” Atsushi decides to ask, leaning back against the sleeping bag. “To be back, I mean.”
For a while, Atsushi’s question remains unanswered as the pair stares at the sky. Stars twinkle between the wispy clouds, blinking at the two boys in the truck bed.
“It feels weird.” Akutagawa’s soft voice breaks the silence. He coughs quietly before continuing. “Everything looks almost the same, but it doesn’t seem as vast anymore…” his next words are even quieter, almost as if they could be blown away by the breeze. “I don’t feel like a prisoner.”
Atsushi hums, never taking his eyes away from the dark sky above them. Neither boy says another word for a few moments, simply content to breathe and exist in each other’s space. Atsushi feels his eyelids droop lower with every breath and he yawns so often that his jaw begins to hurt. Akutagawa seems to be in the same predicament.
“The stars are so bright here.” Atsushi says, seemingly no longer in control of what nonsense comes out of his mouth. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen stars this bright…”
Akutagawa’s head turns to face him and if Atsushi weren’t half-asleep, he’d see the small smile decorating his partner’s face. “Everything’s brighter now.”