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Akutagawa doesn’t consider himself pretty nor any type of “attractive” based on social norms, but he couldn’t care less about that. He was an assassin, a mafioso, a filthy dog whose orders were to obey and make sure to accomplish the mission.
His looks inflicted fear in those weak to the eyes, his long black coat was the perfect fit for his Rashōmon, the dark nature monster being capable of slashing through anything he wanted. The ultimate reflection of his character. His soul.
A cruel man with a fragile body, a sickness killing him slowly painfully, but with the most stubborn ruthlessness attitude in the whole Mafia.
So with all that said, why did he start wearing makeup? Why did he start dressing better and having more of an underground gothic style?
Still with choppy black hair with white tips but now less dry and damaged. A silk red scarf, with a buttoned reddish blouse ending with lace cuffs. It was shaped and tightened with a corset or a waistcoat. Skinny suit trousers and ankle boots, gaining him more height. The only piece of clothing that he kept was his old black coat.
But the most prominent and shocking part was his face. He didn’t put any white base or lots of products, just simple sharp eyeliner, long eyelashes, really small eyebrows that looked more like a line. Black lipstick and some contouring accentuating his thin facial structure.
It wasn’t his idea at all, he himself still didn’t understand the motive of why his sudden change came to his appearance.
When he finished and stepped to check out himself in the broken mirror he didn’t quite dislike what he saw.
Now, he always did this alone in his home with the assistance of his sister, but today was the first day he was gonna get into work like this.
The port mafia couldn’t care less if you were wearing makeup or not, or whatever fashion style you got, as long as it wasn’t a distraction for you or the rest, and it was appropriate to assert your dominance as part of the Port Mafia.
He coughed harshly before stepping out of his “home”, nervousness burying itself and spreading throughout his body, forming a knot in his windpipe. He wasn’t a child to be feeling like this, he repeated it to himself over and over as he walked through the cold air, the sun just rising slowly, but not taking away the chills that run through his body. He was warm with the amount of layers he wore, yet no matter what he wore, he would always freeze as his condemnation.
There was no warmth for monsters like him. Not even when he was bathed in the blood of his targets. Not when he was surrounded by flames and smoke. Not when Dazai looked at him. Not even when the weretiger saved his life.
His heart wasn’t small nor was it stone. It just simply beat and pumped blood for him to survive, and even if it was supposed to be hot inside, he never felt like it.
Just stepping into the imposing building, he knew all eyes were on him. Luke warms murmured around him, observing, commenting, intrigued. He wouldn’t blame them for that. Nonetheless, instead of whispering they should get to work.
He stopped in his tracks. A cough, then he lingered sharp eyes scanning all the room, making sure everyone paid attention. He wasn’t in the mood to ignore them as usually
“Instead of wasting your time in meaningless chitchats, get to work, we don’t have time to spare.” His usual hoarse voice was filled with poison, sending chills to everyone, but not necessarily from fear.
Some of them blushed, others stayed still but after Akutagawa’s sigh everyone started working or pretending to run somewhere to appear busy.
He coughed and went to meet his boss for his new mission.
His heels and the weight of his boots echoed in the long, dim hallways of the top floor. He knocked once on the large door, waiting for permission to enter. He kept coughing, and each time he did, he felt the corset tightening, feeling the restriction, but it wasn't uncomfortable. Or rather, it was, but he liked the way it kept his body rigid.
“Come in” without hesitation he entered. Calm and collected as always, but now his movements were smoother.
Inside were Mori, Chuuya and Higuchi waiting for him. Their reaction differed.
“M-Mister, Mister Akutagawa!” Higuchi as her usual self was blushing madly, her hands and arms moving frenetically. High pitch voice murmuring compliments and her thoughts out loud.
Akutagawa watched her annoyed but before he could reprehend her, Chuuya stepped closer, checking him out from head to toes and giving a flirtatious whistle.
“Well ya look at that, ya look good kiddo. Hot but dangerous. Perfect fit for the job.” A sensual voice mixed with amusement. He even winked at him, playfully, smoothly and oh so unnerving for Akutagawa’s pleasure.
Mori on the other hand smiled. “He isn’t lying, I like your new look. Just like a black widow about to sow terror.”
Akutagawa blushed slightly which was extremely evident in his pale skin. He looked away, blinked fastly and coughed, moving his arm to cover half of his face.
“I appreciate it.” Those words felt strange on his tongue. When was the last time he received a compliment on his appearance? The last time he had to thank someone for it?
The meeting went on and on. Akutagawa’s new mission consisted on paying a visit to a certain group who hadn’t paid on time and it’s been a week since the last threat.
It was already 6 p.m., the city illuminated by artificial lights was turned off when the presence of the "dog" of the port mafia passed by. The streets he took were deserted, the only sounds present were the cars in the distance, the breeze whispering the sins of its inhabitants and the footsteps of the mobster himself.
He was calm. So calm… until a very familiar voice struck. First the screaming, then an explosion, and finally a figure came at a high speed in his direction. He acted quickly, activating his Rashōmon into action protecting himself and catching whoever was flying and about to hit the ground.
To his bad luck it was Atsushi, his archirrival, the man that haunted him and he most certainly detested with his whole life. He coughed, letting the Jinko fall to the ground but at a safe distance so he could react.
Atsushi’s mind cleared up and got up, complaining about the pain in his back and the harsh treatment of his “savior”, not knowing it was Akutagawa himself.
“Thanks for catching me.” His clumsy and kind smile flashing Akutagawa into a sore expression. Atsushi opened his eyes and with curiosity examined the man in front of him. He didn't know what style he was witnessing in front of him. Dark, which seemed like the ones from the vampire movies he watched with Kyoka.
Still he appreciated the amount of effort this “stranger” took into his looks. So ethereal, so elegant and beautiful, like the black roses he used to find in the hidden parts of the garden and collect in secret to keep them close to him during the freezing nights alone in the orphanage.
Without knowing it he stared for a long time, his eyes shining bright at the sight.
Akutagawa was weirded out. Confused at Jinko's reaction and dumb entrance state.
His gaze seemed to penetrate his soul and see him completely. He appreciated his effort, his body, his hair, his everything. He looked at him with curiosity and without fear, without hatred or any kind of resentment. As if he were a divine being. It made him nervous, but he didn't know if it was also discomfort or something deeper and more complicated.
“Weretiger… why are you staring at me like you wanna devour me?” He was direct and precise. He shifted his posture and crossed his arms. Even pouted slightly his lips unconsciously.
Atsushi snapped. There was only one person who called him that. He widened his eyes as far and big as possible, mouth hanging open and a cold sweat dripping from his temple.
“Akutagawa?! Is that you?!” He screamed, but in his defense he was in shock. The gorgeous dark deity in front of him was none other than Akutagawa himself. The man who wanted to kill him and skin him alive or worse.
“So loud.” He scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Foolish weretiger, of course it’s me.” He now put his hands on his hips. A part of his coat transformed into a look alike snake-dragon that stayed above him, just to confirm his identity.
Atsushi wanted to die from embarrassment or so he thought. He was drooling and admiring his enemy! The same guy who had killed hundreds of people, tormented the whole city and was a criminal! A hot criminal- No! Get it right!
He wanted to say something but every time he was about to speak his voice wouldn’t come out. He was too baffled, too confused about why he was getting all flustered at the sight of this new look. He knew his feelings towards the mafioso were mixed in between a weird type of hate, which wasn’t hate exactly and attraction and closeness towards him.
His head was getting overheated and shut down by the overwhelming pressure. His nose was bleeding and he was rambling random phrases which disconcerted Akutagawa.
"Jinko?” He knew the weretiger was weird but this was getting unsettling. Was he bleeding? Did he hit his head that hard? He didn’t want to touch him nor stay here any longer due to his mission, so he just left slowly.
15 minutes later he arrived at the place. He reviewed the map of the installation again, waiting for the time to start the “massacre”, aka not kill but make sure they never mess again with the Port Mafia.
Sadly for him destiny has other plans and the door in front of him opened, 3 men came out. His first instinct was to attack, but he coughed, bad timing. He was expecting bullets, or other weapons thrown in his direction but none of that happened. Instead the men stared at him.
“If you are looking for the hot topic it’s like 2 or 3 blocks away.” One of them teased, the other two laughed.
“Man, I don’t think that outfit is from there, maybe a Halloween party?”
“It’s December.”
Akutagawa kept coughing, not paying much attention to whatever conversation the men were having. He needed to attack, but it was in the wide open and he didn’t want a grown man screaming in pain to attract civilians or the police.
“Ohhh! Maybe you know” A man winked and signaled between Akutagawa and the inside of the building.
“The stripper? Didn’t we contract a woman?” The other asked.
Akutagawa stopped coughing, his eyes twitching and his whole body stiff.
“Excuse me?” His tone was angry, his head high and hands closed into a fury. He was restraining himself from strangling because he was sure he wouldn’t contain himself and kill them, which wasn’t a possibility thanks to the damn Weretiger.
“Oh sorry, we meant a “special dancer with extra services”” Ok Akutagawa was done.
“How dare you disrespect me like that. I am part of the Port Mafia, you foolish dead meat.”
He was tired of everyone commenting on his appearance today, and he knew if he kept this up, he'd just have to put up with it. Bad idea, very bad idea.
He managed to avoid killing them and accomplish his objective, but that didn't stop him from feeling frustrated with the others. He bit his lip, almost drawing blood from it.
He leaned himself into the wall from an alley. Deep in thought.
What would Dazai say if he saw him like this? Would he laugh? Or would he ignore him as usual? Worse, probably he would just stare at him as if he were a mere piece of garbage without any trait of humanity, destined to failure. He would walk close and pass by like nothing happened. Like if he wasn’t worth his time
He was so deep torturing himself in his own mind, he didn’t seem to notice the Weretiger’s presence.
“Um, you good?” Atsushi had his usual calm voice, still cautiously.
“Go away Jinko, I’m not in the mood to fight.” Arms crossed.
“How rare.” He said sarcastically, but kept in place.
He just kept silent, breathing heavily. He didn’t want to open up to him, but he was so full of it, he needed to shout it out and use that rage to his advantage as always but he also felt wrong. He shouldn’t feel like that, not when Dazai wasn’t the cause.
“Weretiger… Do I look like-“ he didn’t want to say it. “A sexual worker?” Everything fell silent. Atsushi was frozen in shock, very confused, not knowing what kind of trap this was.
“No? Who said that?” He was intrigued, knowing full on well his rival wouldn’t think about that unless someone pointed it out.
“None of your business.” He glanced away, still pouting.
Atsushi wanted to protest at that response but kept quiet. Everyone says he's empathetic and knows how to read others. He knows how to talk and be a good comfort blanket for those who need it. After all, he was there for himself all his childhood.
“If you let me… I think you look pretty.” Akutagawa raised his non existent eyebrow. “I mean! Like… you look beautiful and ethereal. When I saw you earlier today I thought a deity from a dark royal place was in front of me. Like, a picture of death maybe? But not scary, just impressive and breathtaking. You remind me of the darkness of midnight, that exact moment when the moon is at its most splendid. Or like a cathedral. Complex, imposing, and where every detail is meticulously planned. You also remind me of those flowers I collected in the orphanage. No one wanted them for their color but I knew they were special. We may be enemies, but even I can admit you look like a beauty.”
They ended up both in a comfortable silence. Atsushi didn’t know if that was gonna get him knocked out or thrown into the water for his boldness.
Akutagawa gave a tiny small smile, his heart feeling warm for the first time in a very long time. He couldn’t stop his pink cheeks showing, making him look alive.
“Foolish Jinko, saying stuff like that to your enemy. We are not lovers.” Not yet.
Atsushi laughed, a genuine one. He had to hold his stomach from the joy he felt from that response. Typical Akutagawa.
“Whatever. But no matter what anyone says, keep dressing and looking however you want. You are still beautiful to me, every time we see each other.” And there it was. His warm smile, causing internal chaos in Akutagawa, who couldn't stop hating and loving the warmth he provided. He wondered how he could heal so many years of neglect and suffering, and how he could rest in peace, if only he would stay with him longer.
Maybe he didn’t regret so much showing his new appearance and didn’t mind the Weretiger complimenting him.