Work Text:
Mimetic
/məˈmedik/
adjective
imitative; relating to or exhibiting mimicry
“There are aspects of mimetic desire that are common to all people”
+++
Akutagawa was unsure of how to care for the girl. Aya was bright, courageous, and had a strong sense of justice. She had risked her life numerous times during the final battle against Fyodor, something that had caused Akutagawa inexplicable distress. A leftover instinct from Bram’s ability, he was sure.
One thing he was certain of, however, was that she did not belong anywhere near him. For starters, he was not her caregiver. The man from the agency – Kunikida – had been given that role. Even so, she often snuck away from him. Oftentimes, Akutagawa would bring her back to the agency immediately, or call Atsushi to pick her up. Sometimes he would buy her food.
“Jinko! I called you an hour ago, did I not?” Akutagawa had his arms crossed against his chest. His tone was sharp, and so were his eyes. Aya stood behind him, smears of ice cream visible around her mouth. She glanced up at Akutagawa before crossing her arms as well.
“I’m sorry, okay!?” Atsushi replied, torn between exasperation and amusement. Akutagawa was far less intimidating when a child was imitating him. “It seems like you two had a good time though.” he pointed out, gesturing towards her sticky face.
“Because of your negligence, I am late to a meeting with my superiors. I will be taking my leave now.” Akutagawa said, not replying to Atsushi’s statement. As he turns away, he pats Aya lightly on the head. It’s a subconscious gesture, and she smiles when he does.
She begrudgingly walks away with Atsushi, though they are quickly stopped.
“Wait.” A tendril of Rashōmon comes into Aya’s view, holding a small bag. “Don’t forget these.” She took the bag, and the man left without another word.
Atsushi peered inside, surprised to see a multitude of trinkets, as well as some antique pins. It seems the two had gone shopping. Atsushi smiled, and guided her back to the agency.
+++
Once, she had shown up during one of his limited outings with Gin. He had been mildly annoyed at first – he didn’t get to spend time with his sister very often – but she had seemed upset about something. Gin had insisted she come along with them, and Akutagawa could not find it within himself to argue.
She had been a bit quieter than usual, as if she was considering something. It wasn’t enough to be concerning, so Akutagawa waited for her to make up her mind, rather than prying. He and Gin were discussing what to make for dinner when Aya paused in the middle of the sidewalk.
“Akutagawa-san!” She yelled – and suddenly he was extremely grateful they were taking a backstreet. “Teach me how to fight!”
Akutagawa raised his eyebrows, and Gin covered her hand with her mouth, stifling a laugh. That… had not been what he expected. Of course, he knew the girls had an interest in things such as martial arts – she had mentioned her long standing history with karate a multitude of times.
“Atsushi told me you’re a really good fighter. And I need to learn more, ‘cos only knowing one style of fighting would be too predictable!” Aya exclaimed, displaying her fighting stance as she spoke. Of course that man-tiger had something to do with this.
Did he often speak highly of Akutagawa to others? The flattery was almost enough to distract him from the actual question.
“What a foolish request.” He replied calmly. There was no ill intent behind his words, but they were irritating nonetheless.
“What!?”
“Ryuunosuke!”
The two yelled in unison, and Akutagawa realized he would need to elaborate further to avoid offense.
“It is nothing against you,” He starts, placing his hands in his pockets, his ability flaring up behind him. “However, my ability to fight heavily relies on the use of Rashōmon. In other areas, I am unfortunately… lacking.” The words felt bitter in his mouth. It was a weakness he was well aware of, but for years he had been too physically weak for anything more strenuous thanks to his illness.
There had been a few times where he considered asking Chuuya to train him, but the humiliation of such a request was too much for him.
It was a weakness he had not been forced to acknowledge many times. However, his fight against his own ability made it abundantly clear. Had it not been for his own agility, he likely would have lost the fight.
Aya looked disappointed, but he was sure she understood. There was no point in wasting time learning things that would be impossible to achieve.
“I understand…” She said, walking forward to take her place next to them. He considered it for a moment. Surely there was something that could be of use to her.
‘Assassination.’ Was the first thing to pop into his mind – but he quickly pushed the thought away. The thought of putting her in that position – of even suggesting it – was distressing to the man. Not that she would ever accept.
Aya was a “warrior of justice”, as she put it. Killing was not something she would turn to.
Akutagawa did not partake in such activities anymore either, so he supposed it wouldn’t be the best option anyway.
“Although…” He started, and Aya turned to face him once more, “Perhaps I could help you improve upon your agility.” It was all he really had to offer, but she seemed satisfied.
+++
After that conversation, he started setting time aside for her training. That man at the agency had been reluctant at first. Very reluctant. But after continued harassment from Aya, and a hesitant endorsement from Atsushi, he had given it the okay.
At first, he had a hard time knowing exactly what to do. He had training of his own, yes, but he had decided against using those methods against her.
The regret he felt with Kyouka was enough, after all.
Instead, he started off simply observing. When he noticed something extremely incorrect, he would point it out. Eventually, he began to incorporate Rashōmon into their sessions, using her as a moving obstacle of sorts. He didn’t use spikes, or really anything that could cause harm, because this wasn’t a real fight. It was strange – it had been a very long time since he had had to use Rashōmon so carefully. Occasionally, he would use her to carry something, but even then he didn’t have to worry about whether or not her points were sharp. People knew better than to touch, unless they wanted to get cut.
There had been a time, though, when it had been normal. When he had used her to carry a sick child to bed, too weak to use his arms. Or when he had used her to entertain, manipulating the dirty fabrics of his coat or scarf into simple shapes, such as a cat or a rabbit.
It had been a long time since he had someone to take care of.
“Are those flowers?” The sound of Aya’s voice snapped Akutagawa out of his thoughts, and he remembered where he was. It had been a long time since Rashōmon had taken such an innocent form. Dwelling on the past always had irritating effects.
“Apologies, it was not intentional.” He glanced outside, seeing the sun begin to set. “The jinko should be arriving soon, now is a good time to end.” Really, he just felt tired. Not physically, but… he couldn’t help but worry what may happen if he became distracted again. Perhaps he would get lost in a more devastating memory, one that caused Rashōmon to take the appropriate form. It was an unpleasant thought.
“No, not yet! You were distracted for the last few minutes, you gotta make that up to me at least!”
“As I have already said–” He was cut off by the sound of the door opening.
Just as he expected, Atsushi had arrived. “Aya-chan!” His voice was cheery, and he waved to the girl. She did not respond in kind.
“Go away, Jinko! I have not yet finished fighting this fool!” She said, turning her glare onto Akutagawa, preparing her fighting stance. Her choice of words caught both men off guard – they were extremely out of character for her. No, it sounded more like an attempt at Akutagawa.
It was strange, hearing such a thing. He was aware that his patterns of speech were uncommon at best, so it obviously wasn’t something that came naturally to her.
“E-eh!?” Atsushi looked mildly offended, though it was mostly shock etched on his face.
Akutagawa didn’t ponder on the strange moment for too long, nor did he entertain her attempts at a fight. Instead, he walked over to Atsushi, standing beside the man.
“If I allowed you to witness a fight between the man-tiger and I, would that suffice?” He asked, ignoring Atsushi’s immediate protests. Akutagawa wasn’t worried – if he accidentally hurt the other man more than intended, he would heal on his own. And it had been a while since he fought a willing opponent, without also having to worry about the safety of others. The feeling was still new to him, and it wasn’t something he enjoyed during a fight.
“Yes!”
“No!?”
But the demands of the girls overrode Atsushi’s protesting, and he gave in rather quickly. Maybe he could sense Akutagawa needed it.
+++
Akutagawa had ended up walking to the agency with the two, though he wasn’t sure why. He felt refreshed after the fight, his head no longer clouded with memories he’d rather forget. He felt alive.
Atsushi clearly wasn’t experiencing the same rejuvenation, but he didn’t seem upset either. Neither of their injuries had been severe, though Akutagawa would probably have to wrap a few of his wounds later on.
After arriving at the dormitories, Akutagawa had been about to leave when Atsushi grabbed his wrist.
“You shouldn’t keep letting your injuries bleed. Let me wrap them for you?” He pleaded, and while he was hesitant…
“...I suppose that would be fine.”
The two dropped Aya off at Kunikida’s dorm before entering Atsushi’s. The man’s dorm was a mystery to Akutagawa. It was so different from his own apartment – one of the few places he felt almost entirely safe – yet it was still comforting.
Homey, was the first word that came to mind.
He waited for Atsushi to return with the proper supplies, sitting on his couch in the meantime.
“Don’t get blood on my couch!” Atsushi said angrily as he exited the bathroom. Still, he sat beside Akutagawa, reaching up slowly, a silent question. The man hesitated, but knew he was safe. It was a strange feeling, though not one he was opposed to. He shrugged off his coat, placing it on the armrest. Atsushi rolled up his sleeves and got to work.
Akutagawa very well could have done it himself. He was fully capable, and the wounds weren’t in hard to reach places.
But something about the gesture was too kind to refuse, and Atsushi’s hands were so warm. Akutagawa couldn’t help but lean in.
Things like this had become more common between the two. It had not been discussed, just happened naturally over time. Closeness came in many forms, but they often began to blend as bonds grew. Sparring and… this were two very different things, yet when they were with Atsushi, the same emotions overtook his mind.
He felt relaxed. Eventually, though, the silence dragged on for too long. Akutagawa felt the need to break it.
“I am… concerned for the girl.” He said suddenly, causing Atsushi’s wrapping to pause. His hands lingered, and so did their warmth. He continued, “I may not be a medical professional of any kind, but I am well aware that attachment to someone in place of the dead is unhealthy, especially for a child her age.”
Atsushi looked confused. “What do you mean?”
“Bram Stoker’s death.” Akutagawa said simply, as if that explained everything. The look on Atsushi’s face said otherwise, so he elaborated. “When the vampire was killed by Fyodor, I had still been under the influence of his ability. He used that to his advantage, willing me to protect her. Because of this, she seems to associate us in her mind, and is avoiding mourning by latching herself onto me.” Otherwise, it wouldn’t make sense. Why else would she continue to seek him out? The answer was obvious.
So then why was Atsushi laughing?
The man rested his head on Akutagawa’s shoulder for a moment, and the warmth spread to his neck and face – a mixture of embarrassment and just… Atsushi.
“Akutagawa,” He said finally, lifting his head. Akutagawa missed the warmth. “Do you really believe that?”
He nodded slowly. What was Atsushi getting at?
“You’ve got it all wrong!” He insisted, “Akutagawa, Aya looks up to you.”
What? No.
Akutagawa didn’t believe it for a multitude of reasons. For one, her strong sense of justice should naturally guide her away from mafia members. More importantly, though, he didn’t want to believe it. The idea of someone looking up to him was far too much pressure. He wasn’t capable of taking care of someone, he had failed to protect others numerous times, and he often failed at simple tasks. How could he be someone else’s mentor when his own had yet to approve of him? For her sake, he didn’t want it to be true.
“You are the one who is mistaken, Jinko. She merely sees me as an imitation of that vampire.” He said, turning away. Atsushi gently guided his face back with his hand, forcing them to make eye contact.
“No, I’m being serious! She really does look up to you. You heard her today, didn’t you? Aya would never speak that way, not unless she was trying to imitate someone else.” He insisted. Akutagawa allowed his head to rest on Atsushi’s hand, and he couldn’t see a universe in which he was lying to him. “For some inexplicable reason, she thinks you’re cool.” He laughed, and Akutagawa jabbed him lightly in the stomach. “Ow! What the hell, man!?”
“You are a fool.” Akutagawa said, but there was no malice in his tone. He leaned forward, and Atsushi lowered his hand, letting the man rest on his shoulder.
“As are you.” He said fondly, resting one hand on Akutagawa’s head. “She really is mimetic in nature. Have you noticed?”
“Her true personality always shines through, though.” The other man added, “I suppose the saying is correct. I am quite flattered.”