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21 days, 12 hours, and 57 minutes ago.
It was 21 days, 12 hours, and 57 minutes ago that Atsushi had said “Wow fireflies! I’d like to see them one day!”. He hadn’t said it to Akutagawa; in fact Akutagawa shouldn’t have even heard it. But he did hear it, of course he did, because that recording device he’d planted in the weretiger’s tie was working just as intended.
And so it was that 21 days, 12 hours and 57 minutes ago Akutagawa started planning.
Truly it was all the weretiger’s fault this was happening. He could have just died and that would have been the end of it, then none of this would even be happening, but the insufferable fool just had to make everything harder for Akutagawa. He always made everything harder. Since the moment he arrived in that alley. Since their first real fight. Since their first forced partnership. Since the moment he saved his life. Since the moment he stood proud and undefeated in the middle of that airport, a David having just slain goliath, with ripped clothes and glistening skin and sparkling eyes. How could anyone, anyone, who had come to know the weretiger with the slightest bit of intimacy be faced with the sight of him like that and walk away completely unscathed?! So really the mafioso had no choice but to fall completely head over heels maddeningly in love with him.
The world may have named him a Rabid Dog, but at the end of the day he was only human.
And so it was that Akutagawa began the trials and tribulations of forging a new path, one that unfortunately required Atsushi. The only reasonable step forward would be to commence a courtship of some sort, then begin a more spectacular relationship than any other in the history of the world. They would spend wondrously satisfying days together and then die at exactly the same moment either in glorious battle or well-earned old age. Really it was the only logical progression of their partnership.
Akutagawa was worried the weretiger would foolishly impede the progression of this sequence, since he wasn’t as austere and reflective as he himself was. For instance, Akutagawa knew he had some reparations to make concerning their relationship, he was well aware his early actions could potential be considered…ill-mannered. Especially if the recipient of said actions was as fragile and fussy as an abandoned kitten. But no matter, Akutagawa was more than familiar with both deadly execution and with Atsushi’s ridiculously soft nature. It would take hardly any skill at all to devise the perfect plan to both make amends and jumpstart their legendary romance. And preferably it wouldn’t require much time either, since Akutagawa was impatient. There were aspects of being in a more affectionate relationship that he wanted to being exploring.
Immediately.
And so it was that “Wow fireflies! I would like to see them one day!” became the necessary catalyst for the start of Akutagawa’s grand plan of seduction. That insider knowledge was all that was needed to spur the crafting of the perfect, persuasive, apologetic proposal for a romantic relationship in the history of Yokohama. Perhaps the world. It would be a success, if it killed someone, if it killed him.
If it killed both of them.
XOXOXO
Between 3:45 pm and 4:00 pm Atsushi and Akutagawa would finish their mission. 15 minutes after its completion, give or take five minutes for the potential re-growing of limbs, Akutagawa would suggest an outing.
The suggestion would entail dinner, food at a particularly charming spot, highly recommended, but in a rather strange location, and would the weretiger perhaps be up to the challenge? Atsushi would say yes because when has he ever said no to food or a challenge from Akutagawa. They would then proceed far away from their perspective homes, make their way towards Yokohama station, armed with empty stomachs and pride filled chests.
At 4:45 pm they would arrive at the train station. After the weretiger’s lamenting is soothed with bottled drinks and one or two snacks they would board the Tōkaidō line at 5:00 pm and arrive in Tokyo at 5:28 pm. There they would transfer to the JR Hokuriku line, board no later than 5:45 pm, and arrive 1 hour and 3 minutes later at Jōmō-Kōgen station. After spending 5 minutes navigating the weretiger’s surely inane questions and blubbering, they would walk for exactly 1 minute to the soba restaurant located right in front of the station at 5:49 pm. There the weretiger would be satisfied with the food and lulled into a fall sense of security. Dinner would end at precisely 7:30 pm, at which time Akutagawa would suggest a walk before boarding the train home. And precisely 3 minutes later they would arrive at the entrance of the Tsukiyono Gardens.
And Atsushi would finally see his fireflies.
There Akutagawa would apologize, in a way, before making his proposal. And there, in the picturesque gardens, surrounded by hundreds of buzzing, zapping bugs, the weretiger would say yes. And then they would begin a more spectacular relationship than any other in the history of the world. They would spend wondrously satisfying days together and then die at exactly the same moment either in glorious battle or well-earned old age.
And it would be perfect.
“Akutagawa?”
The mafioso’s head snapped towards the noise disrupting his thoughts. He realized he was still laying on the ground, Atsushi looming above him with an outstretched hand. He grunted as that stupid ray of sunshine hoisted him out of the dirt.
“Are you injured?”
“I am fine.”
“You were laying there for like five minutes, you didn’t even say anything are you sure you don’t have a concussion or something I mean...”
“Dinner.”
“Huh?”
“Would you like to accompany me to dinner.”
“Oh, uh. Yeah, sure? Do you mean like right now?”
Akutagawa nodded, huffing while he turned to begin his way towards the station. The tickets were already in his pocket, the clear vision of his plan playing on a loop in his head. He heard the weretiger’s eager steps behind him.
Everything was going perfectly. It would go perfectly. Or he would kill them both.
When they arrived at their first destination, Atsushi was a little taken aback to realize that Akutagawa had already purchased the passes…at 5:00 am according to the time printed on the receipt. He glanced towards his partner with a side eye, taking note of the dark circles under the mafioso’s eyes and slight wobble in his walk.
“Hey Akutagawa, are you sure you’re okay?”
He just got an eyeroll and a scoff in response, black coat swishing with purpose as he hurried them towards their first train.
“I am fine. Now hurry up.”
Atsushi took a sip of his water bottle, eyes narrowing even further into a suspicious glare. No, something was up. Something was definitely up. But it was Akutagawa, and trying to pull anything out of him was like squeezing blood from a turnip. You just had to wait until he decided to cut himself open.
Dick.
And so it was that Atsushi simply followed him, like he always did. All the way to the first train. All the way to Tokyo station. He followed Akutagawa’s winding steps, quick ducks, and purposeful strides all the way through the busy central hub until they reached the platform for their next destination. And onto another little cart they went, scurrying all the way to an empty bench at the back with all the skill and grace of an assassin and a detective.
Once seated Akutagawa took a moment to reassess, to check off another box on the itinerary. He glanced to the side, watching Atsushi loosen his tie just a little and settle into the seat. The train was blasting cool air while the sun coming through the window was warming their faces. Akutagawa couldn’t stop a relieved sigh from escaping, leaning back as he opened the front of his jacket. He took a long sip of water after the incessant nudging from Atsushi with the cold bottle did not stop, rolling his eyes at the fool’s satisfied smile once he polished it off.
He cursed the day that Atsushi found the nerve to be smiling at anyone like that, as if anyone could not start to crumble because of it.
Dick.
But Akutagawa had no sweaty palms, no rapidly beating heart. He had a meticulously planned date, down to the very minute. It was part 3 to 12 in a 250 step plan of their relationship that would be executed in the next few years. He had stayed up all night fussing over the details, fussing over his eyebrows, fussing and fussing until there was nothing left to fuss. For now though, he had to simply wait out the 1 hour and 3 minutes ride until their destination.
Atsushi kept an eye on Akutagawa’s swaying form and drooping eye lids. He…did not look good. Well, I mean he always looked good, but he sure didn’t look like…present? Well fed? Oh. Rested. The young detective worried, just a little, that maybe something was going on. Maybe someone was stealing his attention, keeping him up at night. Not that he cared or anything! I mean…
He jolted when he felt something heavy land on his shoulder. Like a good tiger he steadied his breathing, trying to be as still as possible to not spook the adorable gazelle that had just passed out on him. He was frozen, terrified to move even a muscle, but still tentatively tried his best to get a glimpse of Akutagawa sleeping face from their awkward angle. But Atsushi could only see the top of his head, his obsidian hair, and feel the rise and fall of his chest. Hs body started to heat up, he could feel the flush on his cheeks. The air conditioner was no match for the warm fondness he had for the mafioso’s sleeping form.
His breathing was so steady, so rhythmic is felt like a lullaby. In a perfect world Akutagawa wouldn’t be sleeping here on this train, neck getting sore with just a bony shoulder for comfort. No, he’d be bundled up in soft cotton sheets and Atsushi. Limbs tangled, skin brushing against skin, that obsidian hair splayed across his chest. He’d been able to run his fingers through it, holding him close while they dozed away a lazy afternoon. He felt his cheeks grow hotter and his hand twitch with desire to do just that.
Atsushi suppressed the urge to whine, to grunt, to make some unholy noise in response to how frustrated he was by these unfulfilled fantasies. The chances of something like that happening in this world? It was more likely all the stars in the sky would align. It was more likely that by some strange miracle an ideal tidal circumstance, a desired lunar phase and some random perfect weather conditions would all be happening at exactly the same time.
He was forced then to also supress the urge to sigh in defeat. He may not be in that perfect world with tangled limbs and perfect tides, but in this world, he could at least stay as silent and steady as possible so Akutagawa could sleep. He checked the estimated time listed on the board next to the destination.
Luckily they had two hours before their stop.
As it turns out Atsushi didn’t have to worry about the volume of his sighs, since the sharp dings of the trains and monotone announcements didn’t cause the mafioso to stir in the slightest. And that only made his chest ache even more. Akutagawa really must have been pushing himself lately to be this knocked out. He was reluctant to wake him; even more reluctant to change their position. He felt a pinch of sadness thinking about his shoulder without that heavy head on it, but the train was pulling into their stop. And so it was that Atsushi gently jostled him awake, tone warmed by that residual fondness.
“Hey, Akutagawa. It’s our stop.”
Shit.
He’d fallen asleep. He shouldn’t have fallen asleep. He instantly straightened his posture and blinked his eyes open wide, only to be assaulted with Atsushi’s damned concerned face. He braced himself for the incoming wave of shame to follow. This had not been part of the plan. Eyes flicking back and forth he quickly tried to orient himself, appraise the situation, get them back on track as quickly as possible. He felt his heart turn to stone and plummet to the ground when he caught sight of the time.
And then he noticed the name of the station.
Oh.
Oh no.
He’d made a drastic mistake. Something horrid and panicked started to gurgle in his chest, something he struggled to swallow down. It was embarrassing enough that he had passed out, but now he would have to somehow navigate the fact that this was the wrong location. They’d taken the wrong train. They were nowhere near Tsukiyono.
Toyama Station. The name would now haunt him until the end of time. That was supposed to be part 27 of the plan, an overnight trip to Toyama Bay for the winter seafood. Somehow in his tired haze he’d mix up the stations, he’d purchased the wrong tickets.
“Akutagawa?”
He wanted to laugh, bitterly. So loudly and so deranged that it would fill the awkward void he’d somehow created. Of course this happened, of course this happened. A sickness grew in the pit of his stomach that was too close to what it used to feel like in his childhood, when he was choking down moldy bites of bread.
“Hey Akutagawa!”
Of course he failed, of course he failed. What Dazai had always said about him was true. He was disappointing, stupid. Always so disappointing, always so stupid.
“Akutagawa!”
He glanced up. Atsushi looked even more concerned, and Akutagawa tried his best to ride a wave of nausea triggered by knowledge that soon he’d also look very disappointed. Because Akutagawa failed, and spectacularly so.
“I…I apologize.”
“Huh? For what?”
He shook his head, that feeling in his stomach was started to conquer the rest of his body.
“For…sorry, this was not the intended destination.”
“Oh! That’s okay. I mean…I’m sure they’ve got restaurants here too, right?”
Akutagawa lifted his head. Atsushi’s heart snapped in half seeing the dead, defeated look in his eyes. He fumbled out a few more reassuring words, he wanted to get that look off the mafioso’s face as soon as possible.
“Oh…I…uh sorry were you like really looking forward to that place or…?”
Akutagawa wasn’t really listening, body and mind dissociating into an all too familiar pit. How did this feel worse than death? Standing in front of the weretiger now, like a pathetic stray dog. Defeat use to fuel something in him that could burn through every cell in his body and drive him to achieve insurmountable tasks. But this was different, this manner of defeat was different. He’d never understood the desire to give up before, but he certainly did now.
Because who was he trying to fool, the man in front of him was so far out of the realm of possibilities. Akutagawa had fallen victim to a type of delusion that spurred only false hope and futile wishing for some future that would never exist. He felt something wet sting his eyes, watching the weretiger now with his beautiful moonlight hair and eyes filled with underserved concern. In what universe would he choose to stand next to him, choose to spend days and moments with him? Akutagawa was already starting in a deficit; there had been no room for him to make any drastic mistakes. He felt his resolve completely dissolve away, leaking out of his empty eyes and onto the concert ground below them.
Atsushi didn’t know what to do, but he needed to do…something anything to pull him of wherever he’d just sunk in to. He grasped at the first things he could access: instinct, desperation, word vomit.
“Well go next week!”
“Excuse me?”
“The place you wanted to go…I’ll…I’ll take you. Next week.”
Akutagawa blinked, slowly, faced contorting into bewilderment as he tried to make sense of this new information. His words made no sense. In the original plan Atsushi wasn’t supposed to want to spend time with him until step 75, and he certainly shouldn’t want to spend time with him now. Not after he failed. But here he was, inviting him to dinner, showing Akutagawa a map on his phone.
“I mean uh, you know…if you want. But I…yeah, I’ll take you! For now though, how about we head over here?”
A name. Directions. A new plan. Banya Ryori Himihama.
Akutagawa raised a faint eyebrow. Processing. Atsushi swallowed. Panicking. Words still tumbling and fumbling out as he tried frantically to right whatever wrong had occurred. He would give anything to go back in time and make sure they got on the train the mafioso had intended.
“Hey, it’s okay. Really. But uh…are you though? Okay I mean…”
Akutagawa didn’t scoff, didn’t roll his eyes, could barely get a word out. He just nodded, resigned to crawl back into the pit of despair, to curl up with that indestructible parasite called defeat. He could do this at least, he could treat him to a meal, have him in some capacity. They would stay work partners; he could watch him from affair. Take small moments of pleasure from the occasional dinner and occasional smile. Like a fennec fox surviving off the slight water it can pull from insects and animal, going through life without any access to a proper watering hole.
Until Atsushi dies happy and Akutagawa dies despondent the day after.
Atsushi felt the worry and stress start to multiply like fruit flies, watching his usually impenetrable partner start to crack and ooze. He wanted to reach out, to grab his hand. He wanted to squeeze his wrist, feel his pulse, do something anything to make the melancholy go away. He tried to do what he could with a smile, but Akutagawa was still looking through him.
As they walked down towards the bay, Atsushi tried his best to keep conversation light and his tone jovial. He was hopeful the fresh air and maybe some proper food would bring Akutagawa back from the dead. Luckily it wasn’t long before they arrived at an unassuming white structure, humbly existing alongside all the other more domineering, industrial buildings. The navy blue curtain let them know they’d reached their intended destination.
Once inside a quaint older man ushed them towards a little table off the corner. The restaurant had barely any open tables, the space efficiently filled with happy families and love sick couples. But despite all the bustle and a tantalizing menu Atsushi’s focus was on his now pale, shell of a partner.
At least until the food came.
He felt a little guilty, enjoying it this much, but the seafood was so fresh and everything else was so delicious he could practically cry. It was easily one of the best meals he’d ever had. In between nearly passing out from the flavour and quality of the ingredients he kept piling Akutagawa’s plate with food since the mafioso seemed hard pressed to serve himself.
“Here, try this.”
…
“Hey…did you like it?”
…
“Here…try this too.”
…
“Akutagawa?”
Cheeks puffed with frustration, he brought his hand his hand in between them, snapping his fingers together in frustration.
“Akutagawa…”
Snap. Snap.
His eyes were open, sure, but he might as well have been sleeping from how responsive he was.
“Akutagawa!”
Finally a flicker of recognition in those grey irises. Atsushi took a deep breath while his dissociating partner contended with another wave of shame attempting to pull him out to sea. God he couldn’t even do this right; he couldn’t even just have dinner with the stupid weretiger without somehow disrupting his mood. How did he ever think his plan would have worked? That they would work. Akutagawa was displeased to admit it, but he had very little knowledge on how to do…this. He had assumptions, fantasies, daydreams he’d pieced together from various media and stories. But really, was he capable at interacting with the weretiger in a way that wasn’t antagonistic? He sighed, reluctantly polishing off the various morsels on his plate as Atsushi kept annoyingly adding more.
“I apologize…I…”
“Don’t, don’t apologize. Just…try this too alright.”
The server was just passing by as Atsushi added a tiny soft boiled squid to his plate.
“I see you are both enjoying the firefly squid.”
“Oh is that what this is? Yeah, it’s delicious!”
The server smiled and nodded his approval, shuffling back to the kitchen with his pile of empty plates.
Atsushi was all excitement and satisfaction, but Akutagawa didn’t notice, he just wanted this to end. He wanted to go home. Pretend this never happened, pretend he never tried. Shred and burn his carefully laid plan to ash.
But of course when wasn’t the weretiger a burdensome ordeal, always happy to derail everything and yank Akutagawa around like a ragdoll. Because even though eventually the plates were empty, the bill was presented, and the sun was setting, he still had the nerve to ask…
“Feel like a walk?”
He did not, but he also would rather avoid seeing disappointment swirled in with the gold and purple of his eyes. They were infuriating, the weretiger’s eyes. How he used to reveal in seeing them spilling over with fear, and now all he wanted was to see them shine with joy and wonder. Joy and wonder that Akutagawa had somehow orchestrated, so that one day they could stare at him with desire and affection. And while he was more and more accepting of the fact that would never happen, he could at least avoid making it worse. And so it was that he nodded, signed the bill, and followed Atsushi out of the restaurant to the water below.
The moon was bright and high; causing a powerful tide that dug into the shore and greedily pulled sand, rocks and shells back into the ocean. And the way the wind was dancing across the waves made everything feel strangely magical. Akutagawa was about to start laughing hysterically. This would have been ideal circumstances in 3 months if step 27 had ever come to fruition.
After a few minutes skirting the edge of the sea they passed an old woman standing calf deep in the water. She had a pail and a net and was staring out at the endless beyond with a inexplicably satisfied look on her face. Atsushi gave her a polite wave, eyes widening in surprise when she spoke.
“The tide, the moon and the wind. They are perfect!”
“Oh! Um…that’s great?”
“That it is young man, that it is.”
Akutagawa rolled his eyes as they made their way past. He didn’t look back, but the weretiger’s neck was still craned as they continued up the beach.
“What do you think that was about?”
He just shrugged his shoulders in response, eyes glazed over. Atsushi bristled. Enough waiting, this was starting to get ridiculous. He took a deep breath, clenching and releasing his hands a few times before poking the sullen bear next to him.
“Hey so…are you sure you’re okay?”
“I am fine. As I have said. Why do you insist on continuing to ask this?”
“Oh, I don’t know…maybe because I care or something?! You’ve been acting weird all night! Seriously, what the hell is your problem?!”
The strange older woman was few metres away from them now, but they still heard her gasp. It was sharp and like a key change it disrupted the melody of their bickering, heads jerking towards the noise. The spell they had over each other finally broke in that moment, once they saw it.
Breathless; gazes locked on the brightly illuminated shoreline. The edges were glowing bright, neon blue as if a shoal of fairies were dancing along the top of the water. The beach was already astounding, with the crisp sea air and the rhythmic waves, but now the whole scene looked gilded by magic blue ink that a goddess had accidentally spilled on the ocean. Atsushi let out his own gasp, head whipping back over to look at Akutagawa with awe. He spoke softly as if he was afraid this moment would shatter.
“This…this is incredible. Did you know about this?”
Akutagawa shook his head, his lungs struggling to take in air. The water looked too beautiful, and so did Atsushi, with the way he inched closer to the edge of the waves. He laughed, whole body lit up with moonlight and a sudden realization.
“Akutagawa! I think these are squid!”
He reached down to pull one from the water. And indeed it was, a tiny little thing glowing bright blue with tiny little bulbs at the end of their two front tentacles.
“They are! Look! They’re glowing. I think…oh! Firefly squid, this is why they’re called firefly squid! Can you believe it?”
Atsushi presented his prize like a proud cat coming home with a fresh kill. Akutagawa stared, eyes wide with utter disbelief. Firefly…squid. The universe surely had a sick sense of humour. Firefly squid. The sea was being taken over by a large floating sea of the lustrous, bioluminescent beings hellbent on making the whole coastline enchanted. He turned to take in the sight of the man next to him. And in that moment he was finally shocked out of his own loathing to finally see, truly see. See how relaxed Atsushi's shoulders were; how his eyes were shining with joy and wonder. Just as he’d imagined. Atsushi looked…he wasn’t sure how, but he definitely looked…
“Happy.”
“What?”
“You look happy.”
“Huh? I mean…yeah, I am happy?”
“Are you certain?”
“Uh, yes?”
“Are you truly certain you are happy?”
Akutagawa let his eyes drift back towards the bay, the volume of his voice dropping lower and softer than Atsushi had ever heard it.
“You are here with me after all…”
A sharp inhale, an ache in his chest. Atsushi just wanted to grasp his face between his hand, brush their noses together, do something anything to make whatever that was go far far way from them. There was a tremble in his voice when he responded.
“Yes, yeah I’m…I’m certain. Akutagawa seriously…what’s going on?”
With a clenched jaw, the mafioso slowly let his gaze rise again to meet his confused partner head on. For once he wasn’t sure how to string the words together, but Atsushi could read the script from his features alone. Akutagawa's grey eyes were imploring. And it was then that the detective finally had enough clues for everything to click into place. The impromptu suggestion, the lack of sleep. He had been overpreparing for something, something important, and then his plan got derailed. But what could he have been planning? And why did it involve Atsushi?
Unless…
“Wait was…was tonight supposed to be a date?”
Pressing his fingers into his forehead, Akutagawa let out a long, pained sigh. Begrudgingly he slowly nodded yes.
A sharper inhale, a different kind of ache in his chest. And this time he couldn’t stop his hands from clasping his partner’s face in his hand and gently press their foreheads together. He smiled softly, body buzzing from the sensation of being this close. His breathing synchronising with Akutagawa’s quicker, desperate suspiring as desire and lust gleamed brighter than a swarm of fireflies. Bugs or squid.
“I know it's not what you planned, but I think this was perfect. Thank you.”
And before Akutagawa had a chance to fall down a spiral staircase of thoughts and judgements, before he had a chance to utter any words of despair or protest, Atsushi’s lips stopped him. They might as well have stopped time as far as he was concerned, since all he could feel now was the warmth of his mouth, all he could think about was finding a way to slip farther into it. Atsushi pressed his palms a bit harder, pulling his face just that half an inch closer, using that momentum to tease open his partner’s mouth and deepen their embrace.
Akutagawa was crumbling. Somehow despite failing the test it seems he’d passed the class. Wasn’t it like this unsufferable beast to always derail everything. Instead of letting him sink into despair, live out of the rest of his days parched and alone, he was kissing him on a beach under a sky full of stars. While waves of glowing blue squid crested and crashed near their feet. And now he had the nerve to gently sweep his tongue against his bottom lip and pull Akutagawa even further underwater. He had a feeling he'd never be thirsty again.
Akutagawa’s mind continued to slowly melt into a bead of pleasure the more he was subjected to this perfect, perfect kiss. He let instinct take over, happily resigned that his frontal cortex was surely overheated. He wrapped his arms around his partner’s waist and pulled him closer. Desperately closer.
And drifted away in a sea of satisfaction.
Atsushi’s entire body felt like pounded, pummeled mochi from finally, finally being able to kiss him. He couldn’t believe this was happening already, he was positive it was going to be another two months of careful, subtle seduction before he could get Akutagawa on a date. He’d expected another month and a half of gentle exposure therapy before they’d first hold hands. But as he felt the mafioso draw him closer, he looped his arms around his neck and smiled into the kiss, happy that Akutagawa had skipped a few steps.
And drifted away in a sea of satisfaction.
And so it was that this was the beginning of a more spectacular relationship than any other in the history of the world. They would spend wondrously satisfying days together and then die at exactly the same moment either in glorious battle or well-earned old age. Really it was the only logical progression of their partnership.
It was the only logical conclusion.