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“Akutagawa. I think I might be a girl.”
This tactical bomb of a statement is launched by a rather lethargic Nakajima, whose head is lying flat on the booth table at Uzumaki. He looks ridiculous, but at least he’s not wearing that bulky fur-lined coat today.
Akutagawa is seated just across, and pauses in his sip of hojicha to raise an eyebrow. “And what brought this along, Tiger?”
Nakajima doesn’t bother to lift his head or add sugar to his rapidly cooling oolong. “I dunno. I just started thinking about it more at the Orphanage. Like, when I brushed Kyouka-chan’s hair, I had thoughts of growing it out as long and pretty as hers. Or when she showed me an outfit in a magazine and I wanted to try it on.” He sighs and falls silent, as if he’s gone through his allotment of words for the day.
True to form, he doesn’t utter a single word after that, leaving Akutagawa to pick up the slack somehow.
He sips his tea and speaks. “If you’re curious, it changes nothing between us. You will always be my nemesis.”
Nakajima finally lifts his head and gives Akutagawa a watery smile.
That brief conversation sends Akutagawa into a spiral of thoughts as he takes his leave and returns to the quiet office upstairs. He wonders how one can tell these things about themselves. How is it that for some, they have intrinsic knowledge of their gender, while others fight to understand it later in life?
And where does that leave Akutagawa? His entire life, he has been called a boy, a young man, a man. And he has never questioned it. He fits the general hallmarks of masculinity, from his name to his features to his voice.
But what does he believe himself to be? Has he ever questioned such a thing?
Of course not, his whole life has been defined by struggle and violence. There was no room for fanciful thoughts of identity when your next meal wasn’t guaranteed, you watched your friends be brutally murdered, or you needed to rescue your sister from the clutches of an evil man (a pang of guilt rings through his heart, knowing he drove his sister away in the end).
He supposes this is also the fate of Nakajima. His life, the little that he knows of it, was one also marked with strife. What else could be the fate of one so intertwined with the Man in Black? And even before then, he most likely never had a happy childhood, or else he wouldn’t have been lured into that man’s grasp in the first place.
It seems now that they’ve been thrown into a momentary lapse of peace, such things can be pondered. But will any of this be of use to him? Is this something that can help him better himself, prove that he is worthy to stand by Gin’s side again?
“You’re really deep in thought, huh?”
A finger pokes Akutagawa’s furrowed brow, which smooths it out instantly. “Naomi. May I help you?”
She crosses her arms and giggles, leaning on his work desk. If Kunikida were here and not on a case with Oda, he would be scolding her to get back to work. “Just worrying about you. You looked pretty upset coming back from lunch. Meeting with Nakajima not go well?”
“No, on the contrary. It was…enlightening.”
“Care to enlighten me then?”
He considers it, but instinct tells him to act with discretion. After all, this is something not even Nakajima is sure of. “Nothing as of yet. But actually, I have an inquiry.”
“Oh?”
“When did you become aware of being a woman?”
Naomi blinks, her previous grin fading into a more thoughtful expression, as she cradles her chin between her forefinger and thumb.
Akutagawa regards her. “It was a topic that came up during my reconnaissance with the Tiger.”
“You mean your lunch with him.”
“Not merely a ‘lunch,’ Naomi. I was gathering information.”
Naomi sighs and waves her hand. “Sure, whatever. But anyway…I guess I realized it when I was in third grade? I never thought about it before, then suddenly it came to me in a flash.”
Suddenly? In a flash? As a detective, Akutagawa must aggregate more information on the subject. “What did this ‘flash’ entail?”
“You’re full of questions today.” Naomi wheels her desk seat across to sit with him. “Are you perhaps questioning yourself as well?”
He nods. “Quite perceptive. I am…not quite sure, to be honest. It was never something I considered in my entire life.”
Tanizaki walks in with Kenji, both holding pots filled with dirt. The former helps the latter set them up at his desk before joining Naomi and Akutagawa. “Everything okay?”
“Akutagawa-san is having a gender crisis!” Naomi squeals.
“I am hardly having a ‘crisis.’” He simply doesn’t understand what kind of epiphany is required to determine gender.
“Well, when did you realize it? That you were a guy? I know for me, I always just kinda knew.”
“I—” but he stops cold. When did that come to him? Did he ever have such a thought? Raised on the streets, not a soul had a moment to spare for such things. He supposes his sister and friends simply looked at him, considered his name, and assumed. And he, in turn, assumed the same.
“It was a default, I suppose. I was simply a boy and treated as such.”
“But,” Tanizaki presses, “Do you feel like a boy? Naomi and I feel like what we are.”
“Yeah, it’s just a part of me, ya know?”
Akutagawa furrows his eyebrows again, considering his feelings on the matter. But, try as he might, he doesn’t “feel” anything remotely like that. There’s nothing in his mind shouting that he’s a man.
Kenji wraps around Akutagawa’s other side. “Akutagawa-san. Are you perhaps a woman?”
A woman? He recalls Nakajima’s muffled words in the cafe, then thinks on it. But there’s the same feeling of disconnect. No attachment to that term either. “No, nothing.”
“Hmm. I wonder what that could mean then?”
“Nii-sama, c’mon, aren’t you a detective? Figure it out!”
“What? That’s not even related—”
“Damn, could have used more women in this sausage-fest of an office,” and that’s no one else’s voice but Yosano, who’s standing by the doorway.
A chill goes down Akutagawa’s spine. “I assure you Sensei, I have not taken unnecessary injuries—”
“I can see that, kid. Here, I came to give you this. Maybe it could be of use to you.” And she drops a thick book on Akutagawa’s desk, scattering loose paperwork.
Excellent. I could use Rashomon to pretend it all fell in the trash, and I’ll finally be rid of that paperwork…
Akutagawa is distracted from his fantasies of days with no paperwork when he glances at the book Yosano dropped. It seems to be rather nondescript, though flipping through its pages reveals that it’s a guide to gender identity in Japan.
“Oh, that’s perfect! Maybe it could finally help you, unlike Nii-sama here…”
“Hey...”
Kenji brightens up, and Akutagawa resists squinting against his sun-like smile. “Maybe you could share it with your friend.”
“My…friend?” He has a sinking feeling.
“Atsushi-san, of course! You two meet up for lunch all the time, and he seemed really down today.”
Nakajima…his friend? The thought is so vile, so wrong…
When Kunikida and Oda return, it’s to Tanizaki, Naomi, and Kenji attempting to lure Akutagawa out from under his work desk with various sweets and even a cat toy.
Before Kunikida can burst a blood vessel, Oda walks over and reaches under the desk, picking Akutagawa up by the collar.
“Hello there.”
“Drat.”
Akutagawa pours over the book once he’s settled into his futon for the night, determined to learn more about these various identities. There are sections devoted to trans people, including women, and Akutagawa takes care to bookmark such for Nakajima. For intel purposes, of course.
He then comes across a chapter titled “X-gender,” and already his heart rate climbs. It reads:
“For those with a disconnect to both their assigned gender or any gender within the societal ‘gender binary,’ X-gender may be a useful term. It is defined as a third-gender identity that encompasses several subcategories, including bigender, gender-neutral, genderfluid, and agender. These are defined as the following…”
Akutagawa reads and re-reads the same section, trying to tie down his own peculiar feelings. When he considers himself a man or woman, there’s a gaping void where that certainty should be. According to the book, agender is defined as "not having a gender identity, or one that is neutral.”
Is that what he is? Is he truly nothing? There’s a void in him right now, where his sister should be. She called him a monster, evil. Is this why he feels the way he does, because he is nothing inside?
The rest of his night is spent agonizing over what he’s lost and what it seems he’s never had.
Akutagawa arrives at the office five minutes to nine and places the book on the side of the desk. He considered returning it, but at least Nakajima could have some use for it.
“Good morning! Did it help you out?” Kenji is bright and cheery, even so early in the morning. Which, considering his main profession, makes sense.
“I am no longer considering such a thing. It has run its course.” That course being that it’s simply another symptom of his inhumanity.
Naomi and Tanizaki both frown at Akutagawa, but remain silent. Kunikida raises an eyebrow, mainly because Akutagawa is actually filing out paperwork in desperation for a distraction. And Ranpo, back from his mission in Osaka, simply yawns and leans back in his chair.
He can see Oda peering at him from his peripheral vision, before the man stands and approaches him. “Walk with me.”
“Oda! He was finally doing paperwork, don’t distract him—”
But Akutagawa is already at the doorway, creating as much distance from that infernal stack of papers as possible.
“You look down. Care to talk about it?”
The pair strolls down the path by the bay at Yamashita Park. The salty ocean breeze tickles Akutagawa's nose and caresses his hair. He keeps his eyes on the glittering blue waves reflecting golden sunlight.
“It is fine, Oda-senpai. A mere fancy that I have stamped out.”
“It can’t be just a fancy if it’s bothering you so much.”
They continue to walk, a comfortable silence stretching on between them.
Akutagawa sighs. He can keep nothing from his cherished mentor. “I have discovered another facet of my inhumanity.”
“Oh?”
He explains the discussion from yesterday, the book that was lent to him, and his late-night discoveries.
Oda considers everything, then gives him his usual flat stare. “I don’t see your point.”
“You…don’t?”
“If it were true, then others would be the same.”
“But I…”
“If Gin told you this, would you reject her?”
The mention of her name sends a jolt through his gut, and he stands to attention. “Of course I would not. I would accept any part of her.” And he finds it the truest statement he’s ever made. If he could accept her stabbing him in the stomach, nothing else would compare.
“And when Nakajima-kun told you, did you reject her?”
He doesn’t need to answer. It never occurred to him to reject her. It has no bearing on his feelings toward her. Which is distaste, of course.
“That’s your answer. Pretend you’re them.”
“Pretend I’m them…” He mulls over these words. Accept himself as he would accept Gin. As he has Nakajima. Maybe that’s part of his test before she returns. To learn to accept things about himself. “I see…Thank you once again, senpai.”
They get distracted by an old man in need of assistance with his shop and return to the office over an hour late. At least Oda gets chewed out by Kunikida as well, though it does little to assuage his shame.
“Tiger. Read this.” Akutagawa slides Yosano’s book to the other side of the table. They are once again meeting at Uzumaki, taking their usual booth to the back. It seems that Nakajima has retired that ridiculous fur-lined coat, as this is the second time she hasn't worn it.
Nakajima first looks at the book, then at them. Then she carefully flips over to the bookmarked section at Akutagawa’s direction. “Akutagawa. This is…”
“Yes. I have been researching ‘gender identity,’” leaving out the fact that Yosano had essentially done most of the work, “and unearthed an answer to both our issues.”
“Both?”
“You, Tiger, are a trans woman, as denoted by that section and your own previous statement.” That cursed statement that started this whole debacle, though they can’t force much venom into the thought.
Nakajima raises one eyebrow, then the other. Then she resumes reading, as Akutagawa adds four sugar cubes to their hojicha and stirs it. Then they do the same for Nakajima’s oolong.
The act isn’t discovered until she reaches over and sips absentmindedly, then looks up in shock. “How did you know?”
“Because you told me. When we first meet.” Akutagawa still reminisces about that day. Of what could have been between them had the Man in Black not interfered.
Nakajima hums, a small smile on her face. And then: “Why did you bother?”
They click their tongue. “Fool. Is showing kindness not how you treat a lady?”
“Oh. Oh.” She squeaks, her face turning an interesting shade of red.
And because Akutagawa needs to get this out before they falter. “I am X-gender, by the way.”
Now there’s a truly beauteous smile lighting up her face. “I'm happy for you.”
Despite Akutagawa’s misgivings, there is definitely a heart in their chest. One that beats rapidly, and long after they return to the office.