Chapter Text
This is his umpteenth mission with Akutagawa, and Atsushi is used to the motions of “get in, fight, capture, interrogate, and leave.” Even his little tits with the other fall into a steady rhythm. But right now, everything is going suspiciously smoothly—not that Atsushi is complaining.
Another syndicate dealing in illegal activities and disrupting the mafia's routes. Big enough deal to send in the agency as backup, but nothing to alert the special division over. Typical case.
He breaks through a wall and reveals a hallway with one wooden door at its end.
“Think Borges is in there. No idea what his ability is, but Ranpo-san said not to engage in close combat."
“Very well.” Akutagawa saunters in front of him, coat floating and ready to burst through the door. “I shall apprehend him with Rashoumon.”
Atsushi has no reason to doubt the plan, so he follows behind.
The room is set up like a normal office, if not a bit fancier: cabinets topped with ornate vases, a big desk littered with what looks like blueprints, and a recliner chair behind it with its back to them.
An unusual number of mirrors are scattered along the walls, and there's a particularly big one behind the chair. Atsushi makes eye contact with the reflection of the man lounging on it. “Well, hello there. I wasn't expecting anyone.” He looks about ten times too calm for someone whose hideout was just ambushed.
“Your subordinates are all down. I suggest you surrender now, Borges.”
The man only spins in his chair leisurely.
“Nakajima Atsushi, white tiger of the Armed Detective Agency.” He gives him a once-over before turning to Akutagawa. “And Akutagawa Ryuunosuke, rabid dog of the Port Mafia. An interesting combination.”
“Okay, so you know our names. You think that’ll scare us?”
“I think I know a lot of scary things, boy.”
Atsushi takes a step forward. The man makes no move.
“Wasn't sure who they'd send, but you two make a fine enough pair,” Borges rests his head on his palm. “In all honestly, I was hoping for something grander… perhaps two gods. Deity and calamity. That would certainly be fun.”
“Enough speaking in riddles. A coward's attempt at inciting fear. Say what you mean.” Akutagawa's patience was clearly reaching its limits, Rashoumon active and ready to pounce on him at any second, but something just felt off. No one is this blasé in the face of two strong enemies and no allies, unless they're stronger than you… or they've set a trap.
He stares at the floating strap of Akutagawa's coat. “I'm curious. Do you consider your ability as an extension of yourself? Or as its own entity?”
“Either way, it'll be wrapped around your throat.”
“No need for such hostility.”
“This is getting us nowhere,” Atsushi cuts in. “Come quietly, or fight.”
“...”
Borges pushes up against his desk with a screech and stands to face them. He slowly, silently makes his way around the table, Atsushi's eyes darting after every movement.
“I was hoping for a longer chat, but so be it.”
No close combat. Atsushi makes a point to transform his arms but backs away.
Without warning, Borges lunges at the two of them. They both duck out of the way and Akutagawa sends Rashoumon charging forward.
That was odd, Atsushi notes. The man came at them with his hands splayed open, fists not balled. He wasn't even in an offensive stance.
It was almost as if he was only trying to touch them.
Wait, by close combat, could Ranpo have meant to avoid direct contact? As in touching him at all? And isn't Rashoumon technically a body part? Atsushi stumbles in realization and abruptly turns to warn his partner, but it's too late. As soon as the black mass touches Borges, all he sees is light.
“Wait— Fuck!”
The blinding beam disappears, and so does the subconscious, ever-present feeling of Byakko. Atsushi immediately knows something is wrong. He's proven right when he tries to transform his left arm, only for white tendrils to shoot out of his torn shirt.
Akutagawa seems to come to the same conclusion, hunched over and eyes wide as a small gash in his shoulder repairs itself.
The ability user they were tasked to apprehend uses the commotion to run off. They waste no time chasing after him.
“Akutagawa, he swapped our abilities!”
“I can see that.” Akutagawa glances back—because he's faster than Atsushi for once, if only due to the tiger's enhanced speed—and leaps for their target on half-transformed legs.
He must have severely underestimated the tiger's strength (or the ability's output, or something…) because the fur travels further up to his thighs and puts him off balance, stumbling back in time for Atsushi to pass him and rein him in with Rashoumon.
Atsushi wraps around Akutagawa’s midsection—perhaps a bit too tightly, given the grunt he gets in return—and propels him forward, not quite in a show of mastery, but from remembering all the times the other man has thrown him around before.
Akutagawa uses the opening to latch onto their target. Borges thrashes around in his grip, making up for his non-combative ability with sheer physical strength. Fur sprouts out of the mafioso's arms as he maneuvers behind the other and tries to lock him in place. Atsushi stares at all the seams ripped in its wake.
“Care to enlighten me as to why you're just— ugh— standing there watching when you have the capture weapon, weretiger?”
“If anything, you're the weretiger right now... But right, sorry.”
Atsushi stretches out an arm and thin strips of his sleeve surge toward the man, wrapping around his wrists and ankles. He falls to the ground, rather ungracefully, as Akutagawa gets up and dusts off his clothes.
“Okay, you've definitely got no way out this time. Retract whatever it is you did,” Atsushi says.
The man ignores Atsushi in favor of pushing against his restraints. Gone is the sophisticated, put-together facade he put on earlier. “Shit! It already takes ages to master your own ability. So, how? How in the hell did you two use each other's that fast?”
“Enough with the wriggling. Escape is futile. But I suppose I agree.” Akutagawa kicks him in the back of the head hard enough for him to pass out, then turns to Atsushi. “Your control over Rashoumon is… adequate. I surmise it's because she's become quite accustomed to you.”
“Uh, am I supposed to say thanks?” He pauses. “Huh. I guess it's the same way for you and Byakko.”
“Byakko?”
“My tiger. That’s her name,” Atsushi responds while reaching into his pocket to call for backup, missing the thoughtful look on Akutagawa's face.
After Kunikida confirms the police are on their way, Atsushi slides his face into his hands. “Dazai-san is gonna have an absolute field day with this.”
Sirens sound in the distance, and Atsushi watches as two uniformed officers handcuff the rogue and put him in the backseat. Akutagawa watches too, but he's already hidden himself in the shadows, ready to depart as soon as the armored car drives off.
“Where do you think you're going? You think you can just go while we're stuck like this?”
“The mission is complete. I have to report back to Mori-san.”
“Yeah… no. You're staying until this is sorted out. We're going to the agency.”
-
After what felt like the world’s longest elevator ride, Atsushi opens the door to the agency with a grumpy Akutagawa in tow. He's mentally psyching himself up to explain the situation, but it looks like Dazai has beaten him to it.
He takes one look at the pair and bursts into a huge grin, immediately getting up from his spot at the couch and grabbing both of their shoulders. “Oh, this is so good.”
“I take it that very subtle attempt at nullification didn't fix it?”
“Nope!”
“And you're not gonna do anything to help us out?”
“Gosh, you're getting real good at this detective thing, Atsushi-kun!”
Atsushi sighs and turns to Akutagawa. “Any tips on handling Rashoumon for the unforeseeable future?”
It's only then that the rest of the agency realizes what happened.
“Ah, so that was Borges’ ability. It was listed as unknown in the government database.” Kunikida resigns.
“Do you know how long this will last?”
Kunikida pushes up his glasses. “Not yet, but they've just taken him in for questioning. Rest assured, I doubt this is permanent.”
“Yes, very assuring,” Atsushi mutters under his breath. Akutagawa is the only one close enough to hear and masks a huff with a cough.
“Well, it seems as though there is nothing else to be done. I will be taking my leave now.”
“You're seriously just walking off without getting this fixed?!”
“What else can I do here? Would you rather I bring you with me back to the Port? I'm sure Mori-san would love your head on a platter, even without the bounty.”
“Can you not be an ass for like, five seconds? I know you want your ability back as much as I do. At least I'm trying to find a solution.”
“I can get more information back at mafia headquarters. You're the one holding me hostage with your sorry attempt at detective work.”
Atsushi's patience snaps like a string, and white tendrils pin Akutagawa in place against the door. A tail wraps around him in retaliation.
“It's like it's your life mission to piss me off.”
“And it seems like you're enjoying Rashoumon. Would you like to keep her?”
“Alright, alright, that's enough.” Dazai claps his hands and pushes between the two. “You've both got a point. We're not gonna get any answers here until Borges himself confesses, but it would also be unwise to keep you two separated. So under my very powerful authority, I command you two to stay no more than 5 feet apart at all times!”
“That means you'll have to live together.” He very helpfully adds.
“What—?” “That’s absurd—”
“No, he's right. A bit dramatic, though.” Ranpo chimes in from his desk.
“The ability either has a time limit or some kind of condition you need to satisfy. And since it needed two people to activate, it most probably also needs both of you in order to disarm it. The best plan of action is to wait it out together while trying to meet those conditions.”
Atsushi opens his mouth, only to close it again. He turns to Akutagawa, who's stuck with a perpetual grimace on his face, then helplessly to Kunikida.
“Kunikida-san?”
“...Their reasoning is sound. Anyways, you're done for the day, so you might as well go home and start thinking instead of wasting time.”
He stands there, betrayed, and scans the room. “What about Kyouka-chan? I can’t just leave her by herself!”
“Already decided we’re staying at my residence, I see,” Akutagawa mutters.
Kyouka regards Akutagawa with a glance and says, “It’s okay. I can handle myself, or stay with Yosano-sensei.”
“Then that settles it!” Dazai makes quick work of pushing the two out the door. Atsushi watches it slam shut, not before catching Ranpo's gaze, who only sends him a knowing wink. “Have fun!”
“Well, let us go, weretiger.”
“Wait, you're seriously listening to him? Actually, scratch that. Of course you are.”
“It was a direct command from a superior.”
It’s then that Akutagawa’s phone rings. “Chuuya-san.”
“Hey, kid, that shitty Dazai told me what happened.” Akutagawa stares back at the agency door, incredulously. Already? “You don’t have to come in ‘til it’s fixed. I’ll cover for you.”
“Thank you, but that won’t be necessary—”
“I don’t wanna hear it! You won’t do the mafia any good when you’re under an ability. Just enjoy the break… and the company.”
“I don’t understand.”
Chuuya’s voice is muffled over the phone, but Atsushi thinks he hears him laugh. “Sure you don’t. Say hi to your tiger for me,” he says before hanging up.