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How does one choose good onions?
That’s what Atsushi has been wandering to himself for the last 3 and a half minutes.
These ones are shiny and starting to peel, those are colorful but they look a bit beaten up. He should ask Kunikida-san about this one day. It’s rather inconvenient having to guess his way through the quality of vegetables every other week. I wonder if Kyouka knows more about this…
But that doesn’t matter now, that’s how they, Kyouka and him, decided to do the house chores. During the weekend, Atsushi focuses on the groceries and Kyouka focuses on the cleaning.
He kind of likes it. It’s a mundane routine, yes, but an unfamiliarly soothing one.
Besides, Atsushi wouldn’t be able to pick up some things he needs if he were to be accompanied most of the time. Today is an example. He’s running out of band-aids and rubbing alcohol in his first aid kit, the one he keeps hidden in the closet, and he’d prefer not to use the ones in their medicine cabinet and risk Kyouka or anybody noticing. So that’s why he plans on making a quick trip to the pharmacy after grabbing the rest of the groceries in their to-buy list.
Today is a rather sunny day aside from the low clouds passing through the sky, consequently there’s a lot of people going about their day outside. Thankfully, the pharmacy is a bit less crowded than the market was. Atsushi doesn’t deal very well with a lot of people around him, he supposes it may be his ability’s fault – hearing every little noise and smelling everything around him can be so overwhelming. It feels like he can kind of understand when Ranpo complains about overcrowded trains and how he “can guess every person's problems just by looking at them”, but Ranpo is… a different case.
All the things he needs are kept in the same aisle, the one that, unfortunately, is being shared by Atsushi, an old man and another person at the same moment. Although he minded his own business searching for the right sized band-aids, Atsushi couldn’t help but notice how frequently the grey haired man stared at the other person, who didn’t seem to be in the best mental state considering the dark circles under their eyes, greasy hair and clothing that hid their skin. The man has a permanent scowl, and looked to be holding himself from saying something about the other guy’s appearance. Lo and behold, the moment they exit the aisle with their basket full of first aid supplies, the man opens his mouth.
“hmf…” he grumbles, loud enough for Atsushi to hear, “these people… their generation has it good enough but they still slit their wrist out of any inconvinience.” He spats, limping while walking away to another aisle.
Suddenly, Atsushi wants to hurl. His skin is crawling. How is this an appropriate thing to say? That person was just minding their business… he couldn’t know whatever they’re passing through.
… “out of any inconvenience", isn’t this what Atsushi does almost every day? Hurt himself even when he doesn’t feel particularly big emotions? He knows this man was an asshole, but what he said makes Atsushi’s mind come up with violent images of what he could do to his own body, and it disgusts him, it calls for him, makes his thighs itch. If anything, his mind makes that stupid opinion correct.
The pharmacy cashier sees the young detective leave the store empty handed, with eyes that focused only on his stepping ground.
“Watch where you’re going, brat!”
There were packages scattered around the pavement. Atsushi accidentally knocked down a delivery man while going back home. He hadn’t even registered he was walking back home until then, nonetheless, he’s soon on his knees helping to gather the thrown things.
“I’m so sorry!” couldn’t he make things more embarrassing for himself? What a joke. “I- this won’t happen again, sir! Sorry…” and sorry, sorry and more sorrys. Deep inside, Atsushi knows they are worthless.
His legs burned when Atsushi finally reached the dormitory’s second floor, but the only pain he can really think about is one of the sweet crimson type and how much he deserves it at this point, because, really? Getting triggered by words and then knocking a man down? That’s what he’s really doing now?
Bags full of groceries tossed at the kitchen counter, door closed, Atsushi slides down inside his pseudo-bedroom, bed-closet. The futon is neatly folded at the distant corner of it, making the boy’s room have ⅓ of free tatami space. He sticks his hand under the futon, grabbing a small box cutter alongside a small package of tissue papers. The adrenaline of what he’s about to do is already incredibly intoxicating.
The boy goes to close the closet door, but hesitates. Doing so would make the place dark. Even more, it would feel too much like a cage for his own liking. Half open it is, then.
It’s a good thing Atsushi wore chino shorts to go out today, since it’s really easy to pull one side up and show the areas of his skin which had been previously bruised and abused in various other times. They are the ones he considers being the prettiest parts in his body. He feels a kind of guilty euphoria in seeing the scars scattered in his thighs, agglomerated near his hips, since he knows that he shouldn’t be doing this and that if Akutagawa finds out Atsushi continues to cut himself he’d tell the agency, but, honestly? Atsushi can’t find himself caring more than he once did when he started this habit.
Heart beating fast against his ribcage, the excitement feels incredible but worry starts to set in. Kyouka must be near the building, she said she’d hang out with Kenji today. Kunikida and the others must be around, too, since the blond likes to prepare dinner for the whole dorm on Saturdays. Atsushi should seek help before doing this. They’re going to be so disappointed when they find out – if they find out. But he can’t worry about this, he’s just doing what he deserves, right? So, even if he doesn’t really want to indulge, Headmaster would be proud of him, replicating one of his old punishments.
A deep, shallow breath, and Atsushi makes the first slash. He gazes at the red beads appearing at his skin’s surface, and does it again, and again, and again. He stops to quickly prod and stretch the flesh around the cuts, watching the blood form around it before drying them with the tissue. He puts the blade to his skin again, this time wanting to go a bit deeper, although he’d never go down too much as to not activate his ability, just enough to create a scar.
This, though, seems to be a bad decision. The amount of energy Atsushi felt in his heart combined with the sensation of some slightly pressured cuts makes his blood pressure drop. In a matter of seconds, he starts to hear a faint ringing and an intense nausea hits his guts. leaning his head on the wall for support, closed eyes and cold sweat forming in his forehead, the passing of time feels slower and faster at the same moment.
“A-Atsushi?” Wobbly and worried, a feminine voice speaks. Atsushi peaks his eyes open and sees Kyouka watching him, horrified. He doesn’t even have time to react, the girl was already turning around, with tears in her eyes, and sprinting out of the room.
He fucked up.
Kyouka, the girl Atsushi saved from certain death, the one who he saw almost like a sibling, the one who he’s supposed to protect, saw one of his worst flaws. She saw him in this pathetic situation... No wonder she left, Atsushi doesn’t blame anyone for not wanting to deal with the lost cause that is his own person.
Atsushi doesn’t cry nor panics. No, he feels far too weak to do any of those. He tries, though, to continue cutting, but lowering his head makes his vision start to fade.
Still gripping the blade, thinking the least harm it could do while being poorly handled would be greatly deserved, the detective gives up. Knees against his chest, bloodying the shirt, and forehead against the wall, he’s obligated to wait for his strength to come back before thinking about doing anything drastic.
Kyouka’s in hysterics, almost screaming, when she barges into Kunikida’s apartment. Him and Yosano had been drinking some beers together while he finished grilling the meat for the donburi before getting interrupted by the girl.
Yosano is the first on her feet, putting her can of beer down. “Kyouka-chan, what happened?”
“A-Atsushi! He’s, he’s bleeding!” She wails, gripping both sides of her t-shirt to ground herself. “He hurt himself! He had- had a blade… he’s..!” her speech turns into gasps and more sobs.
At this point, Kunikida had already cleaned his hands and turned the oven off in the midst of urgency. He kneels in front of the girl after quickly glancing at Yosano, who shared the same look, already having a bad feeling about what this is about. “Kyouka-chan, please breathe with me. Yosano-san is going to check on Atsushi-kun, but while that happens, you need to breathe, kid.”
Yosano pats Kyouka’s shoulder before walking towards the girl’s and Atsushi’s dorm. At the same time, Kyouka throws herself into Kunikida’s arms in a tight hug, still reasoning within mumbles what she saw her brother do to himself.
The doctor slips inside the room without any problems, considering that the door had been left open by Kyouka. She passes through the shopping bags spread on the kitchen counter to hear weak heaves accompanied by crying. Atsushi’s curled up inside of the cupboard he insists on calling “his bed”, he seems pale and visibly weak, not really present.
She’s quick on kneeling beside him and trying to gain his attention, which she barely receives . Atsushi groans and his pupils try to follow her hand, but his head doesn’t fully follow. Yosano helps his body lay down with his legs on top of the folded futon, a position that encourages blood circulation, since Atsushi showed symptoms of hypotension. That is when she saw what Kyouka had caught him doing. The clothes partially covered the wounds, spreading blood around the boy’s thigh. Pushing it away, she sees the scratched-like cuts in the scarred skin.
The scene broke her heart. Considering Atsushi’s background and past visible mental state, he always was in an area of probability to develop harmful coping skills. Yosano wasn’t surprised he is self harming, but she’s sad by the quantity of scars spread across both of the younger one’s tights. How could she never have suspected it before?
Breathing heavily, the younger one tries to understand what is happening. Somebody pushed him around and is now hovering near him. The corners of Atsushi’s vision are still black, he’s still somewhat out of it, but the harsh nausea is settling down.
That person comes back and lays a damp towel on his thigh. “Here, Atsushi-kun, try to eat a bit of this.” the voice, who he’s pretty sure belongs to Yosano, asks. She helps Atsushi eat a bit of a plain salt cracker. “Your blood pressure is down, try to breathe deeper when I squeeze your hand, ok?”
The clock dances for another 10 minutes before the orphan finally feels normal again, although that comes with its consequences. Yosano had been quietly bandaging and treating Atsushi’s wounds the same way she does back in the Agency whenever he or somebody else gets hurt. His razor was unceremonially dumped in the kitchen counter and he’s pretty sure he won't have it back.
“I’m sorry… sorry you had to deal with that, Yosano-san.” the younger one croaked, guilt filling every surface of his mind.
“I’m glad, actually, that I had to ‘deal’ with that, Kid.” She opines, making air quotes with her hands. ‘Dealing’ feels like too much of a chore, and Yosano does not view helping Atsushi as a chore. “Atsushi-kun…” she sighs with the drop of her shoulders, “I want to help you. Can you accept that?”
Atsushi’s silence echoed in the small apartment whispering of uncertainty. Does he want to be helped– Does he want, deserves, to stop harming himself? No, not really. In counterpoint, it’d be rude to say no to what’s being offered to him.
“I- mgh… I…” his eyes dance around the room, quickly scanning Yosano’s purple iris, “I don’t know.” Atsushi hides his face behind the palm on his hands, in defeat. “I’m… I am, I- don’t know.”
“I’m not telling you to completely stop self-harming from today onwards, Atsushi-kun.” her kind and collected voice tells him, “I just want to help you find less harmfull alternatives and be here when you need me.”
Yosano waits some seconds before getting Atsushi’s response, which was a weak nod followed by his hands rubbing his eyes of any remaining tear. She smiles, “thank you, Atsushi-kun.” and extends a hand towards Atsushi, who lays one of his own onto hers with a bit of hesitation. “and I mean help during and out of our job, okay?” she lightly squeezes his fist as to concretize her promise.
“I scared Kyouka away.” Atsushi states after sipping from the water bottle Yosano had just handed to him, his face couldn’t be described as anything but one of a beaten puppy. “Yosano-san… what if she doesn’t want to see me after this?”
The woman sees Atsushi with only care in her eyes. “You know, you two care a lot about each other. I am sure she was just worried and did what seemed to be the best option at the moment.” Guilt continued to be plastered at the boy’s face, though. “She’s probably with Kunikida-kun right now. He’s preparing dinner for us, why don’t you go with me and say hi to them?”
Despite thinking it’d be a bad idea, somehow Yosano ends up convincing him to meet the others. He had to change clothes first – opting for sweat pants and a short sleeved graphic tee of a cat hugging a can of sardines. Even after changing clothes, Atsushi felt he still looked sickly, but it’s a lost battle trying to hide his struggles from them now.
Kunikida’s dorm smells of sautéed onions and grilled steak. It makes Atsushi’s stomach growl with the realization his last meal was a veggie broth Cup Noodle he ate at 11 a.m. He sees Kyouka straight away, with her back to him, intensely focused at assembling onigiris. Kunikida, though, is the first to break a word. “Good evening, Atsushi-kun.” The man says, yet again sharing glances at Yosano, who communicates back with a gentle nod to mean “everything’s good for now”.
Kyouka beams up, turning her head to see a fidgety Atsushi she’s happy to (mentally) call her brother. No words are spoken between the two, but her arms are around his torso and her face is buried on his shoulder with the utmost care. He too, lays his chin on top of her hair, eyes closed in a tired smile, and enjoys the silent act of forgiveness.
The four of them shared the rest of the evening together. Kenji joins an hour after Atsushi’s arrival, at first asking for Kunikida’s help with calculating how many seedlings he’ll need to fully occupy an x square meter crop, but staying for the meal after Kyouka asks him. The tiger boy finds it to be the perfect moment to ask about his earlier onion conundrum, and now he’s learned heavy ones with tight skin usually are the best.
None is talked about his earlier breakdown during the night, but Atsushi notices, after that happening, Kunikida and Yosano giving him more attention. He knows that, soon, more “talks” are to come, and even if he’s not excited for them, Atsushi doesn’t plan on trying to escape when they do come.
Steps are steps, afterall.