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Byakko made a very pointed sound as she jumped up onto the table, eyes narrowed in feline judgment. Her tail swished once, then twice, before she sat right between them, effectively blocking their view of each other.
It was the third time it happened this week, no matter how many times they tried to gently remove her from the table, she was back. Not even food on her plate would make her move, determined to separate the lovers with all that she could. If they sat side by side instead of in front of each other, she would cry until they separated again. Jealous of anything the couple did together.
The first sign had been subtle, a mewl right as they leaned closer on the couch, a paw batting at Akutagawa’s arm just before their lips touched.
The second was not.
Atsushi woke one morning to the smell of cat vomit on his pillow. Akutagawa’s side was spotless. He groaned, sitting up and glaring at the guilty party perched elegantly on the dresser. “Seriously? On mine?”- Byakko blinked, slow and deliberate. It became an ongoing battle. Any time they tried to cuddle, Byakko would wedge herself between them. If Atsushi dared to close the bedroom door, scratching and yowling followed until he caved. If they cuddled on the couch, she would jump between them and push their faces away from each other. She would push her way between them at night and cry for attention if they talked to each other for too long.
There had only been a few weeks since they started dating, and it was already too much for both of them.
The next day Atsushi sighed as he filled Dazai’s cup with fresh coffee as he complained- “I don't know what the matter with her, if she’s alone with him or me she is just as good as ever but as soon as we are together she cries, and throws things on the floor, yesterday she even scratched me when I tried to get her off the table”
“She is jealous obviously”- The other man explained simply, sipping his coffee.
“Jealous?”- Atsushi questioned.
“Yeah, before you two became a thing, both of you paid all of your attention to her, now, you mostly pay attention to each other.”- Dazai wiggled his eyebrows suggestively at the end of his sentence, making him scoff in return.
Back at home, Atsushi explained this to his boyfriend, standing by the door at a safe distance from both the cat and him. Akutagawa continued to go over emails on his laptop as he listened.
“She can get over it”- He muttered, though his hand automatically moved to stroke her fur. Atsushi tried to gently and slowly sit beside them. Byakko tolerated exactly two pats before hopping off with a disgruntled “mrrow,” tail held high as if she were storming off in protest.
“I don't think she will”- Atsushi said as he rested his head on Akutagawa’s shoulder, making him close his laptop to comfort him. The whole situation reminded him of the first time he had encountered Byakko, she was so small as a kitten and had been afraid of him for two weeks before even letting him be around her, let alone petting her.
Despite their ridiculous feline drama, things between them were good. Better than good. They didn’t talk much about it at first. It wasn’t out of avoidance, exactly, more like they didn’t need to. Something between them had quietly settled into place, and both seemed content to leave it at that.
Days passed, and small gestures replaced declarations.
Atsushi would find his favorite snacks on the counter with a sticky note in Akutagawa’s precise handwriting: Eat this before work.
His scarf would always be washed and ironed when he left for his shift at the café, even though he never remembered even leaving it near the laundry room.
Clothes folded perfectly, meticulously would appear on his bed with no demands for even a thank you, although of course he did.
Atsushi started keeping his own small list of counter gestures. He’d memorized Akutagawa’s favorite tea exactly how he liked it. He’d leave sticky notes of his own, bad doodles of cats that were supposed to be Byakko. Sometimes Akutagawa would roll his eyes when he found them, but the corners of his mouth always softened in that quiet way that made Atsushi’s stomach do strange things.
They were something now. Not quite labeled, but warm. Comfortable. The soft weight of a head against a shoulder, a hand brushing through messy hair, it all became their quiet language.
Except, of course, for Byakko.
The cat had taken their newfound closeness as a personal insult. With the increased number and scale of Byakko’s tries to get them apart, the level of stress inside the apartment was increasing, no longer being able to just brush it off.
Their first real fight came out of nowhere.
It started, absurdly enough, with cat food. Atsushi had come home from work late, tired, with a bag of the “wrong” brand, according to Akutagawa.
“She refuses to eat this one”- He said sharply, holding up the bag like evidence in a murder trial.
“She’s a cat, she’ll eat if she’s hungry”- Atsushi shot back, exhaustion slipping into his voice.
“Clearly, she won’t. I told you the exact brand that you needed to get”- Akutagawa said, his voice sharper than he meant it to be. He held up the bag like evidence, the logo crinkling under his grip.
“And it was out of stock! I grabbed the next best thing. I didn’t think it was that big of a deal!”
“Well, it is to her.”
They stood there, staring at each other, tension heavy between them. Byakko watched from the counter, tail flicking from side to side.
It should’ve ended there, with a sigh and an apology. But tired people say stupid things, and both were far too stubborn to stop.
“She could eat any brand just fine before, when it was all I could give her”- Atsushi said finally, voice shaking more from hurt than anger.
Akutagawa’s reply came too quick, too cold. “You are no longer living in the slumps, you don't have to live like your life's still a wreck.”
Atsushi’s breath hitched. He’d tried so hard to make everything right, to fit into this new rhythm they were building, and somehow it still wasn’t enough. The bag of cat food felt like proof of how different their worlds still were, and how easily he could feel small again.
The silence that followed was suffocating.
Atsushi’s hands trembled as he set the groceries down. He didn’t say anything more, just turned, grabbed his jacket, and left.
The door closed with a slam behind him.
The apartment felt too quiet after that.
Akutagawa sat on the couch, staring at the stupid bag of cat food like it had personally insulted him. Byakko meowed, unimpressed.
“Don’t look at me like that”- He muttered.
She meowed again, louder this time, then padded to the door and sat there, staring expectantly.
He sighed. “No.”
A few minutes later, she was pawing at the door. When that didn’t work, she jumped onto the shelf and deliberately pushed a book onto the floor.
And another.
And another.
Until Akutagawa finally got up.
He didn’t go after Atsushi right away. He wanted to, God, he wanted to, but something inside him always froze when it came to emotion. Words tangled on his tongue, raw and unfamiliar. He’d said the wrong thing, again, like he always did.
He sat in the dim kitchen, staring at the door, until sleep claimed him right there at the table.
Atsushi didn’t go far. Just down the street, sitting in the dark on a park bench until it got too cold. He felt stupid, mostly. They’d fought about cat food. But it wasn’t really about that. Meeting each other and all the things that happened after changed their lives, it had been quick and sudden, and welcomed of course, but it took time to adjust to how things were now.
By the time he returned, dawn was just starting to turn the sky grey. He opened the door quietly, expecting Akutagawa to be asleep.
Instead, the man was pacing, hair messy, shirt wrinkled, and Byakko sitting in the middle of the floor like a chaperone.
“You’re back”- Akutagawa said, voice low. Relief flashed across his face before he managed to hide it again. Atsushi hesitated in the doorway, heart pounding as he looked around the space that had started to feel like home. It was strange how silence could hurt this much, how absence could press on the chest like a physical thing. He wanted to turn back, but the thought of leaving again felt worse.
“Yeah”- Atsushi said softly- “Sorry. I shouldn’t have left like that.”
“I shouldn’t have said what I did.”
There was an awkward pause, the kind of silence where apologies hung heavy and unspoken emotions pressed between them. With quick steps, they met each other in the middle of the room, immediately embracing one another, seeking comfort in each other’s arms.
Then Byakko made a pitiful sound. It wasn’t her usual attention-seeking cry, it was low and trembling. It made both of the man freeze in panic.
“Byakko?”- Atsushi crouched beside her, panic rising as she didn’t move right away.
“She’s breathing oddly”- Akutagawa said immediately, already grabbing his coat- “We’re going to the vet.”
The next hour was a blur of cold and worry. Atsushi’s heart raced the whole way, his hand on the carrier as if that alone could keep her safe.
The vet examined her while they sat outside, silent. Atsushi’s fingers were white from gripping the edge of the chair.
“She’s fine”- The vet finally said, smiling gently. “Just a bit of indigestion and, perhaps some stress. Maybe she’s reacting to changes in her environment.”
“Changes?”- Atsushi echoed, looking at Akutagawa.
The vet chuckled- “Cats can be very sensitive. If their owners are tense, they feel it too.”
When they got home, Byakko was already back to her usual self, eating, stretching, and demanding affection like nothing had happened.
Atsushi sighed in relief, rubbing her head. “You scared us, you little monster.”
They stood there for a moment, watching her. Then Atsushi turned to him- “I don’t want us to fight like that again.”
“Neither do I.”- They stared at each other, approaching slowly until their lips met, softly, gently like a caress.
Byakko meowed loudly between them, as if to remind them who the real center of this household was. They ignored her.
Akutagawa reached up, thumb brushing against Atsushi’s cheek, and for a moment, all the tension melted away.
“You scare me sometimes”- Atsushi admitted quietly. “Not because you’re harsh, but because you matter so much it hurts.”
Akutagawa looked down, voice barely audible. “That makes two of us.”
And then he said it, the three words they had been avoiding, fearing the power they held, the way it could change their beloved dynamic and turn their relationship into something else entirely.
“I love you.”
The words were quiet, barely a breath, but they filled the room like light. For a heartbeat, Atsushi couldn’t breathe. The words hung between them, fragile, impossible, and real. He’d imagined hearing them a hundred times. The world seemed to shrink to that single moment.
Atsushi smiled, tears spilling freely this time, and leaned in until their foreheads touched. “I love you too.”
Byakko chose that exact moment to jump onto the counter and knock over a glass of water.
They both laughed, breaking the spell. But as Atsushi leaned against him, fingers intertwined, even Byakko’s jealous antics couldn’t dull the warmth in his chest.
The rain started falling outside, steady and soft, and for the first time in years, Akutagawa’s apartment felt completely, undeniably like home, now not just to him, but to all three of them.