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Akutagawa didn't know what he was thinking.
He should have just gone back to the Port Mafia, he didn't need to follow the man-tiger after finishing his assignment, it wasn't as if they were friends or anything. But he did go, just in time to see Dazai say, "I can only say one general thing. When someone's father passes away, they will cry."
Then, just for a moment, Dazai looks across and sees Akutagawa. Akutagawa's first instinct is to hide, but that's ridiculous, he wasn't even doing anything wrong. He's prepared to walk away, pretend he didn't even come for a specific reason, but then Dazai smiles, softly and with a hint of sadness.
Go to him. His eyes seem to say, which is ridiculous, what on earth could Akutagawa possibly do to help? If anything his presence would probably upset the man-tiger even more, and he tries to show his discomfort.
But he's not doing a very good job of it, because Dazai is already turning around to walk back, and Akutagawa finds himself in front of Atsushi.
The man-tiger's shoulders are shaking, and his face is covered in his hands. He's crying.
Normally, Akutagawa would have turned around just at the sight of tears. He always believed that people should be allowed to cry in peace, but seeing tears on the man-tiger’s face seemed wrong somehow.
He lets him cry for a while longer, then speaks. “You don’t have to hide your face.”
At his voice, Atsushi raises his head. There are tears dripping from his eyes, his nose is scrunched up, and he looks generally miserable.
“You look terrible.” Akutagawa states, then immediately frowns a little. He probably wasn’t supposed to say that.
For a while, it seems as if Atsushi isn’t going to say anything, which Akutagawa wouldn’t particularly mind. But then he snorts.
“I really c-can’t im-imagine why.” Atsushi replies, glaring a little.
Akutagawa sighs. "Sarcasm doesn't suit you, man-tiger."
"Life doesn't suit me. Death d-doesn't suit the headmaster." Atsushi shot back, tears streaming harder. "I have no idea what I'm doing, Akutagawa."
"Most people don't." Akutagawa replies. "Except probably, Dazai-san. He doesn't really make plans at all, but he's thought of lots of scenarios, and he's prepared for any one of them."
"Dazai-san is... something else." Atsushi says, and he half-smiles, rubbing at his eyes. "He u-usually looks as if he's s-slacking off, but in reality, he's also t-thinking. He's really witty and observant."
"Yes he is." Akutagawa affirms, nodding slightly.
There's silence for a while. Atsushi's hands are tightly clenched into fists and his breathing is a little labored. Akutagawa isn't quite sure what to do about it, so he doesn't do anything at all, and waits for Atsushi to speak.
"Why are you here?" Atsushi asks.
"Because I wanted to be.” Akutagawa answers frankly.
Atsushi frowns. “Is my suffering really that enjoyable to you?”
Akutagawa shrugs. “Sometimes.”
“I’ll never understand you.” Atsushi says, remembering another time when he said the same words.
“And I, you.” Akutagawa says. “It’s not really that important.”
“It would be nice. Understanding you, that is.” Atsushi says, without really thinking about it.
Akutagawa blinks.
Atsushi blinks back.
For some reason, Akutagawa feels his face warm a little. “You must be insane.” He mumbles, hiding the lower half of his face behind his face.
“I think most people are, to some degree.” Atsushi says, softly.
Akutagawa glances up. Atsushi still has this sad look on his face, and for some reason, Akutagawa hates it.
“You’re still thinking of the past, aren’t you.” Akutagawa says, and it isn’t a question.
Atsushi starts a bit, then calms down. “Yes I am. It hurts to look back, but I think I understand why the headmaster did all those things.”
“So? What was his reason?” Akutagawa asks.
Atsushi looks at his hands, as if imagining them turning into tiger arms. “He was trying to protect me. He knew my secret, and he kept it from everyone else. He made me tough, kept on beating me up, and he tried so hard to focus my hate on him, so that when I grew up and knew the truth, I wouldn’t hate myself.”
“I would only hate him.”
Turmoil shows in Atsushi’s eyes, and he clenches his open hands into fists. “I’m alive today, and in some way it was because of him.”
“I see.” Akutagawa says, and he really does. He’s quiet for a minute, then speaks. “When Dazai-san was still part of the Mafia, he used to train me as my mentor. He was always ruthless and always stopped short from killing me, and he always pushed me harder. He never complimented me, but there were some days when he’d smile at me, and I’d know that I was making him proud.”
He pauses a little, then continues. “I’m sure your headmaster was proud of you too.”
Atsushi’s eyes widen. “Th-that kind of thing… is it even possible?”
The question is directed more towards himself than to Akutagawa, but he answers it anyway. “What do you think?”
He remembers being beat up, first by his parents. He remembers screaming, lots of it, and pain. He remembers thinking what he did wrong. Why was he even born, if he just caused his parents this much grief?
He remembers being in an orphanage, seeing the children staying at a respectfully wary distance from him. He remembers the headmaster, the sharp pricks of injections, the lessons he was taught.
He remembers being told that he was worthless, that his opinion never mattered, that he didn’t have a choice in anything.
He remembers feeling fear, pain, a hunger that consumed him, tore at his insides, and made him beg for release. He remembers the only feeling that was on par with his hunger, and that was his own hate for himself.
He remembers the way the headmaster looked at him, with no emotion at all, or maybe he was just that good at hiding it. Was it possible?
Could he have been proud of him?
Then, in his mind, he sees an image of a bouquet of flowers.
That's all it takes really, for him to break down and scream. Tears rush down his face once more, and the pain only intensifies. He clutches his hands around his sides, and tries to physically hold himself together, but it's not working, he still sees those flowers, he still sees the headmaster, it's not working, why isn't it working-
He screams, a raw sound of emotion, of anger and frustration and desperation and sadness all mixed together into one. He doesn't care who hears, because it's the only way he , can give voice to his thoughts, and he's so tired of everything. He screams, and it sounds a bit more like a roar this time.
He glances down at his hands, just to make sure that they haven't turned into tiger arms, but they've stayed the same.
The roar came from him, from the beast in him. But then again, the beast was him after all. Who could tell where he began and where the beast continued? Atsushi couldn't, that's for sure, because he felt that the tiger was just a physical manifestation of the beast that lived inside him. He didn't know if the things he was feeling were a result of the headmaster dying, or if it was just an accumulation of all of his years in the orphanage, all of the years of feeling worthless.
He had a family in the Armed Detective Agency, but he'd never had someone be proud of him before.
He didn't know how to react to it. So he just screamed. He put all of his emotions, everything that he couldn't put into words, and let it out in harsh and guttural screams. Whenever he'd stop, he'd take shaky gulps, and cry, wrapping his arms around himself. It was too much, everything was too much, yet it wasn't enough either.
Belatedly, he realized that there was a shift in the atmosphere. It sounded as if something was hitting the ground. Rain? But he wasn't getting wet at all?
Atsushi lifted his face, and was greeted with Rashomon. It was formed into a kind of makeshift umbrella, and it was covering the two of them. Atsushi turned his tear streaked face from the sight to look at Akutagawa.
"Why?" He croaked, voice hoarse.
"Don't think that you can hide your tears because it's raining. You don't have to hide." Akutagawa says, simply.
Atsushi stares at him in disbelief, unsure if he was hearing him correctly.
"Also," Akutagawa mutters, "you'd probably catch a cold. Dazai-san would probably scold me or something."
Atsushi gives a surprised bark, too high and sad for it to be a proper laugh. "I suppose I should thank you."
"Don't think this makes us friends, man-tiger." Akutagawa says, looking away.
"Ok." Atsushi says, smiling a little.
He's still crying, and Akutagawa is still looking away, but the rain isn't hitting him, and he doesn't feel quite as worthless anymore. After all, just how many people would care about their enemy getting wet?
He still finds the idea of being the object of someone's pride very strange and confusing and new, and thinking of the headmaster still brings pain, but he doesn't have to forgive just yet. Maybe it's enough if he understands him and his motives first, because then he'll be able to see the headmaster as a human being. One who made mistakes, and went about things the wrong way, but ultimately achieved his goal.
He cared about him, in his own weird and twisted way, and he taught him to be strong, and to fend for himself. He kept his secret, and gave him a will to live, and while his methods were far from perfect, they were effective, and Atsushi still doesn't know what to think about that.
He can't forgive him, not right away, maybe not ever. But there is one thing he can do for him, and that thing is to live.
For now, that's enough.