Work Text:
Querencia
/keh-REN-see-uh/
noun
a place where one feels safe, at home, and centered; a source of strength and inspiration
“the garden became her querencia, a sanctuary where she could escape the chaos and reconnect with herself”
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It had been a few weeks since Atsushi joined the agency. Things were going well – not counting Dazai’s antics – he was starting to do better with cases, he hadn’t run into trouble recently (though, he did sometimes find himself wondering if he would encounter the mad dog again), and living with Kyoka was easier than expected.
Kyoka seemed happier. The thought first occurred to him one day as they were sitting down to eat. Dinner was simple, as it always was when Atsushi cooked, but a genuine smile appeared on her face nonetheless. It wasn’t the first time he had seen it, but whenever it had appeared, it was because of something big. This wasn’t a new change, a gift, or some high stakes moment – just another normal day.
It reminded him of something else, a feeling he had never quite addressed. He had first noticed it on the cargo ship, he thinks. The moment he had seen Kunikida, approaching the burning ship, going out of his way to save two people he hardly knew.
He had felt it again when Kenji and him were assigned on a case together, and every time Dazai told him he was doing well. He felt it when the Tanizaki’s invited him to eat (though it was often overridden by a sense of discomfort), or when Ranpo offered him a small candy after a particularly long day. When Yosano brought him out, or Haruno showed him pictures of her cat, it was there.
And of course, he felt it then, sitting across from Kyoka. His stomach no longer growled at the sight of food, and with that thought, he noticed his clothes didn’t fold uncomfortably when he sat, that they weren’t too loose. He moved to pick up his chopsticks, and he realized that movement was easier as well. He felt healthy and full, and not once did he fear it would be snatched away if he were to make a mistake.
Home, he thought. It wasn’t easy to define – not when he had never truly experienced it before. To him, home was the warmth he felt when he was surrounded by his friends, his family. It was the safety that settled within him every time he walked into the agency. It was the ability to smile at mundane moments, such as sitting down for a simple meal, or being able to express annoyance with tedious tasks.
Atsushi considered all of these things, and a smile graced his features. It was good to be home.