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Akutagawa staggered back. Atsushi didn't think he'd hit him that hard.
"Stupid jinko…" Akutagawa growled. There was a slight wheeze to his voice.
"…Akutagawa?"
"No!" He coughed weakly, clawing at his chest. He was struggling to stay upright, breaths turning loud and shallow. Then, he crumpled to the ground.
Atsushi paused for a moment, wondering if it was some sort of trick, though that wasn't Akutagawa's style. And he could hear Akutagawa huff and gag, not getting air in.
He ran to his side, trying to find the issue. There was nothing to choke on, and he hadn't been coughing a lot before he fell, like usual.
"Akutagawa? Talk to me, how do I help?"
Akutagawa shook his head, pale white, not breathing well at all. He was tugging at his chest, though.
Atsushi touched where he had, feeling something beneath his shirt. Something constricting his chest? Akutagawa balked, starting to thrash, panicking.
"I only want to help you breathe, Akutagawa…" Atsushi promised, feeling for a seam, something to get it off. Akutagawa was sobbing, sounding choked.
He eased Akutagawa's coat off, then his shirt, revealing a tight half-singlet shape, and bare, pale skin lined with silver scars, both battle and punishment.
"Okay, here we go…"
"No!" Akutagawa barked, tears in his eyes. "Don't…"
"You can't breathe…"
He shook his head desperately. Atsushi ignored him - whatever it was, it could wait until Akutagawa could actually breathe.
"Sorry…" He helped wrestle Akutagawa out of it.
Akutagawa let out a broken little noise, pulling his coat up to cover his chest as soon as he could pull a full breath in.
Atsushi sat silently for a moment. He'd been expecting a scar, an embarrassing tattoo - not those.
"Um… I'm sorry-"
"Don't," Akutagawa snapped, turning his back to Atsushi, cheeks burning red. "Don't talk…"
Atsushi obeyed. Slowly, he shifted to sit by Akutagawa, once the older man had caught his breath. He didn't lean in, or try to touch, and definitely didn't try to get another look. He stared up at the starry sky.
"I'm sorry it happened like that," Atsushi said carefully. "Without permission. I'm not sorry I did it, because you couldn't breathe - but I'm sorry it happened. You deserve to be able to choose who you tell, and when, and how. I didn't mean to make you feel unsafe."
Akutagawa shook his head, still turned away. "You did what you needed to…"
"I'm still sorry."
Akutagawa sniffed, hugging his coat to his chest.
"What now, then?" His voice was bitter, defensive. "Tell the Agency? The other PM members? Find someone else to fight?"
"…No." Atsushi hadn't heard him sound so insecure. Not unless the topic was Dazai. "I won't tell anyone. It's your business. And we're still rivals."
Akutagawa slowly glanced at him. "…Really?"
"Yeah. I don't care if you're a boy, girl, neither, both. We're rivals. I wouldn't trade you for anyone."
"That's rather soft of you, weretiger…" Akutagawa did seem to relax, though.
Atsushi smiled at him. "I mean it."
He sat quietly by him for a while more. Atsushi did feel bad - forcibly stripping and outing Akutagawa, even by accident and with good intentions, wasn't his best moment. He knew how scary it was to have someone stronger take control of his body. He didn't want to make anyone feel like that.
Akutagawa calmed down slowly. He was still bare, waist-up, his coat the only thing hiding his secret. Atsushi brushed off his abandoned shirt.
"Here. It's getting cold, we should get inside." Akutagawa's lungs would mess with him even more, if he stayed in the cool night air for too long.
Akutagawa nodded, scooting to face away as he dressed himself. He shoved the binder into his pocket. "Please don't speak of this…"
"I won't, Akutagawa. Just between us." Atsushi stood, offering a hand. "Can you breathe okay, now?"
"It's better…" He accepted the help, standing rather shakily beside him. "We shall… finish the fight another time…"
"Sounds good."
Atsushi took him back to his apartment - it was closest, and he didn't want Akutagawa's lungs getting irritated, especially after whatever that episode was.
Akutagawa settled on the couch, comfortable enough. He'd been over before. Atsushi brought him a hot drink and sat next to him with his own mug, decorated with a crude hand-painted white tiger - Dazai had received a mug painting kit after a particularly bad week, something to keep his hands busy. He'd made themed mugs for the whole office.
Akutagawa drank quietly, not looking at him. "Do you have… Questions…?"
"Not really. Nothing's changed," Atsushi said. He understood enough, since becoming close friends with Junichiro. "One thing, though - it's not meant to stop your breathing, right?"
"…No. It's not suitable to bind for people with my condition. Especially during exercise."
"Why do it, then…?" he asked gently.
Akutagawa shrugged weakly. "I… Want to look like me. I want to look like Ryuunosuke Akutagawa, not some… Sickly girl…"
"Surely it's not worth wrecking your body even more…"
"You don't understand." His voice was strained, upset. Not blaming, particularly. Just in pain. "It's… Not me. I can't see myself when all I can see is my fucking chest-" He broke off into a coughing fit.
Atsushi pulled a blanket around him, trying to warm him up. "I believe you, just… Stay calm, okay…?"
Akutagawa managed to get his breathing back under control. He let out a shaky sigh.
"It doesn't feel like my body… Maybe the illness is it trying to purge me out of something never intended for me…"
Atsushi didn't know how to comfort him. Which words would help, which would only hurt him more.
"I'm here if you ever need help. Even if it's just to talk."
Akutagawa glanced at him.
"…Thank you, jinko."
Akutagawa stayed the night. Atsushi fed him and made him shower, and got him set up in the spare room. He wasn't sure what to make of their relationship, really. Rivals, friends, or…
By morning, Akutagawa was looking better. Didn't touch the eggs and toast Atsushi prepared, but that was normal. Atsushi gave him yoghurt instead, finishing the serving of eggs himself.
"Are you leaving today?" Atsushi asked. As domestic as it felt sometimes, Akutagawa never stayed for long. Like a stray cat, come for food and shelter on a cold night, gone again before morning.
"Yes."
"Alright. You can come back anytime."
Akutagawa didn't answer.
"…Please take care of yourself."
Akutagawa stood, heading for the door. He pulled his shoes on.
"I'm having soup tomorrow," Atsushi continued. It wasn't exciting, but it was something Akutagawa could stomach. His illness made it hard for him to eat much.
The only answer he received before Akutagawa left was a slight nod. Atsushi smiled. He'd see Akutagawa again soon enough.