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Akutagawa flipped up the collar of his overcoat, shivering against the cold. He never got used to the winter temperatures. Always, he was reminded of his days on the streets, the way all the kids would huddle together for warmth at night, the way some of them didn’t live to see morning.
He quickened his pace, making it to Café Uzumaki within a few minutes, the bell jingling as he entered. He surveyed the room, intent on finding a quiet corner to sit with a cup of tea, but his eyes stopped on a head of silver hair.
It had been months since they last saw eachother. After the man in black fell, they had parted ways, burdened with knowledge and the responsibility of the world on their hands. Atsushi has disappeared, and Akutagawa had begun to wonder if the weretiger had off and gotten himself killed. Apparently, that was not so. Here he was, on Akutagawa’s turf, just below the detective agency.
Hackles raised, Akutagawa approached soundlessly, forming a dagger of Rashomon at his side.
Atsushi turned to look at him as he approached. His eyes flicked to the Rashomon spike, then back to Akutagawa’s face.
“I’m not here to fight.”
Akutagawa kept Rashomon up, but allowed himself to relax a smidgen.
“I’m here to talk. About Dazai.” Atsushi paused, then added, “The man in black.”
Akutagawa heaved a sigh. He should have figured. Letting Rashomon form back into his coat, he sat across from Atsushi.
“Do you remember what he said about…” Atsushi lowered his voice, “…the Book?”
“Of course I remember.”
Atsushi seemed nervous, tapping his finger against his empty mug. “I’ve heard the Guild is here in town,” he said at last. “An American organization. Powerful ability users.”
“Indeed,” Akutagawa agreed mildly.
“And, coincidentally, a mafia building disappeared overnight.”
“Curious,” Akutagawa remarked.
Atsushi studied his face. A long beat of silence passed.
“Dazai said he needed to get us to face death to understand eachother. But I don’t understand you at all.”
“Nor I, you.”
Atsushi frowned. “I’m… not with the mafia anymore. We don’t have to be enemies, you know. Maybe we could… work on being allies?”
“Maybe,” Akutagawa conceded.
A waitress stepped over, setting a fresh mug of coffee in front of Atsushi. He thanked her, and then reached for the sugar bowl. He added a sugar cube. A second. A third.
Akutagawa watched the white cubes disappear into the dark liquid, and was reminded of their similarity, the ease of their first conversation. He thought back to the way Atsushi had smiled then, and wondered if the weretiger would ever smile like that in his presence again, now that they’d tried to kill one another.
Akutagawa waved to the waitress and requested a cup of green tea. She scurried off to make one.
“Tell me about yourself,” he said, turning to Atsushi.
The weretiger looked surprised. “Me? I… What do you want to know?”
“Anything.”
“Well, I… you know I grew up in an orphanage.”
“Yes.”
“It was… I guess it was safer than being on the street. And I had other kids for company, but I never really… fit in. It was like the others could sense I was different, even before I knew what I was.” Atsushi paused, looking inquisitively at Akutagawa. “When did you discover you had an ability?”
Akutagawa thought about it. “Age 6.”
“Wow, that’s young. I didn’t know until I… until Dazai brought me into the mafia. I was thirteen, then.”
Akutagawa raised his eyebrows. “You didn’t know? Did you not transform until then?”
“I’m not really… in full control of my ability,” Atsushi said sheepishly. “Back when I was a kid, I would transform and not be aware of it. I didn’t remember what I did as a tiger. I apparently crashed through the orphanage’s food stores on more than one occasion. Maybe because I was hungry. I was always hungry.”
Akutagawa nodded, eyes closed. “Hunger does strange things to you. I grew potatoes to feed myself and my friends for a while. As soon as they were big enough, we ate them raw, damp from the river where we washed the dirt off.”
“Yourself and your friends? What were your friends like?”
Akutagawa ignored the hollow feeling in his chest. “Other kids on the streets. Most were bigger than me, even when I was among the oldest. But with my ability, I was our protector. I kept us safe from thieves, from trafficking. Until…” he trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.
“You were doing that from age six?”
Akutagawa nodded again.
“That’s incredible,” Atsushi said, wide-eyed. “You were out there protecting people while I was nothing but a hazard in my tiger form.”
Akutagawa’s tea arrived, and he added four cubes of sugar to it. He took a sip.
“I failed, in the end,” Akutagawa said as he set his cup down. “My skill with my ability was… not what it is now. I could not protect them. Myself and Gin were the only ones to make it out alive.”
He didn’t elaborate, and Atsushi didn’t push him. They listened to the sounds of the café for a while. Newspapers wrinkling, the clinking up cups being set in saucers, the whistle of a kettle beginning to boil.
“The Agency has had an encounter with the Guild,” Akutagawa volunteered out of nowhere.
“Really? What was that like?”
“They came to us first, to meet with the President. I know not what they wanted, but it seems they left unsatisfied. The disappearance of the mafia building happened after that.”
Atsushi’s eyes turned dark with understanding. “A warning.”
“It seems so. The day after, they took an Agency member.”
Atsushi’s eyes widened, and his hand stilled where it had reached to pick up his mug. “What happened?”
“One of their ability users. She was able to create an alternate dimension of sorts, where she pulled in a number of civilians as well as three of our agents, myself included. We were forced into a game of tag with a…” Akutagawa’s nose wrinkled, “…a monstrous doll-like being. Her goal was to pull us into an inner chamber, which once closed, could not be reopened from within.”
Atsushi leaned forward, transfixed. “What did you do?”
“Tanizaki used his ability to make it look as if I’d been pulled into the door, but I used Rashomon to cling to the doorframe. I then grabbed the ability user and threatened to drag her into the inner room with me. It seems even she could not open the door from the inside. She released her ability, then. And because the door was open at the time, all those in the inner room were freed.”
“Wow,” Atsushi breathed. “That’s intense. Do you think the Guild is after you now?”
“Undoubtedly,” Akutagawa answered without hesitation. “There will be a fight to come.”
Atsushi looked down at his mug. “I haven’t been doing anything that exciting since we last met. I, uh… I’ve been back at the orphanage, actually.”
“Oh?” Akutagawa asked neutrally.
“I have a new mentor. Kind of. He saved my life. I was… I was not well, after…”
He didn’t have to say the words for Akutagawa to understand.
“Anyways,” Atsushi continued. “He’s been helping me… process.”
He fiddled with something on his wrist. Akutagawa took a closer look and saw it was a watch with a broken face. He glanced back up at Atsushi’s gold-violet eyes, feeling something stir within him.
“I just graduated,” Atsushi said softly. “And I didn’t know where else to come but here.”
They met again, a week later. The same coffee and green tea. The same corner booth.
“Fancy meeting you again here,” Atsushi quipped.
“I work here,” Akutagawa deadpanned. “Upstairs.”
Atsushi rolled his eyes and took a drink from his mug.
“So I was thinking,” he started. “Maybe we should train together. Spar, I mean. If we’re meant to be some kind of beyond-powerful force together, we should learn the ins and outs of eachother’s abilities.”
Akutagawa thought back to the words of the man in black. “The singularity created when both of your skills merge,” he quoted. “We don’t yet know what that means.”
Atsushi snapped his fingers. “Exactly.”
“The man in black said something about our souls meeting. I admit, I am… uncertain how something like that would be accomplished. But I imagine it requires trust.”
“Seems logical to me.”
“I am a detective, after all,” Akutagawa said with a small smile.
Atsushi’s eyes flicked down to his mouth, lingering there.
“I’ve never seen you smile before,” he said mindlessly.
Akutagawa coughed and straightened his lips. “Do not get used to it.”
“Right. Okay.” Atsushi cleared his throat and looked away, the tips of his ears slightly pink.
“I should ask Oda to assist us,” mused Akutagawa.
“Oda?”
“My mentor. The strongest ability user I know. If he agrees, we would have opportunity to practice fighting side-by-side, not just fighting against one another.”
Atsushi looked thoughtful. “That’s not a bad idea. Do you think he’ll mind?”
“I don’t presume to know. I will ask, next time I meet him.”
Atsushi took a drink from his mug, and Akutagawa’s eyes settled on the weretiger’s throat, watching his Adam’s apple bob.
“We should exchange contact information,” he suggested.
“Oh! Good idea! Here, I’ll give you my phone and you can put your number in.”
Atsushi slid his phone across the table, and Akutagawa picked it up. He navigated to the phone’s contacts and added his information in, then handed the device back over to Atsushi.
Atsushi looked down at the screen. “Your first name is Ryuunosuke?”
“Yes.”
“Mine’s Atsushi. Last name Nakajima. But you can call me Atsushi.”
“I know. You introduced yourself when we first met.”
“Oh, right. I forgot. Feels like ages ago, honestly.”
The past did seem further and further away. Between them, there should be barriers and animosity, but Akutagawa was rapidly finding that to not be the case. Conversation flowed between them easily, like old friends.
“I should go,” Atsushi said, standing up. “I’m due at the orphanage. Promised to teach a few of the kids to write their names.”
“Are you being paid in chocolate?” Akutagawa asked, the corner of his mouth curling up slightly.
Atsushi’s eyes slipped down to Akutagawa’s lips again.
“I uh… I think I’m probably getting paid in wrestling experience. Little demons, I swear. But they’re cute kids. I’m going to teach them to read too, when I have time.”
Akutagawa’s stomach felt fluttery. He peered down at himself, baffled at the feeling. Was he sick?
“See that you do,” Akutagawa said quietly, turning back to Atsushi. “Education is a wealth that is not afforded to many of the less fortunate.”
Atsushi grinned brightly, and Akutagawa’s stomach filled with butterflies again.
“See you later, Akutagawa.”
Atsushi had texted him almost immediately after leaving the café. A simple - hey, this is Atsushi.
Akutagawa had texted back - Ok.
Then, by the time Akutagawa had wandered up the stairs to the Agency, Atsushi had started texting him pictures. A group of smiling children. A child with a crayon in their hand, concentrating hard as they pressed it to a piece of paper. A pile of papers with messy Japanese characters written on them. His efforts to teach the young children at the orphanage to write their names.
“Akutagawa’s smiling!” Ranpo announced loudly.
Akutagawa schooled his expression. “I am not.”
“You were. Who’s texting you?”
“No one.”
Ranpo pulled a lollipop out of his mouth and used it to point at Akutagawa. “You know I can figure it out with my Ultra Deduction.”
“Go ahead,” Akutagawa dared.
Ranpo hummed and stuck the lollipop back in his mouth. “Too boring. Waste of my ability.”
Akutagawa scrolled through his phone, finding pictures he’d taken with Oda’s orphans. He sent one to Atsushi.
His phone buzzed a moment later.
omg Akutagawa is that your ability making a jungle gym?? I didn’t know you could do things like that with it!
My ability is highly versatile, he typed back.
Another moment. Another buzz.
wish you were here right now
Akutagawa’s heart skipped a beat. He pressed a hand to his chest, eyebrows drawing together with concern. He really must be ill.
His phone buzzed again.
because of the kids, I mean. they have so much energy. I’m exhausted.
Akutagawa sent back a picture of a hammock he’d made for Ranpo. Atsushi’s response came moments later.
I’m so jealous! when will you make ME a hammock?? (っ- ‸ - ς)
Smirking, Akutagawa pocketed his phone.
He and Atsushi continued to text eachother throughout the day, and into the night. Akutagawa expected that to be the end of that, but when he woke up the next day, he found a new text waiting for him.
good morning ☕︎
He looked at the text for a while, that familiar fluttering in his stomach once again.
Good morning, he sent back.
what are you up to today?
Akutagawa’s fingers hesitated over his screen before answering.
Agency work. Looking into the Guild.
let me know if you find out anything useful! Atsushi typed back.
Then, a moment later, he added, if you can – it’s okay if you can’t tell me anything.
Akutagawa blinked. Atsushi was no longer the enemy, but he was not a part of the Agency. Relaying specifics might be frowned upon. Then again, they were meant to be allies. They needed to trust eachother.
He let that thought marinate throughout the day as he worked.
Atsushi continued to text him intermittently. Sometimes notes about what he was doing, with the occasional picture. He sent one of himself, smiling, with a crêpe in hand. Akutagawa could see Kyouka in the background.
How is Kyouka? he asked.
she's good. spends most of her time at the orphanage. some of the kids are her age, but she seems worlds older. I guess she’s been through a lot. we both have.
Akutagawa considered apologizing for his treatment of Kyouka when he assaulted the mafia headquarters. He decided against it.
I wish her well, he texted instead.
Atsushi sent another picture, this time of him with his arm around Kyouka, who was holding a large stuffed rabbit.
the world of light is full of beautiful things
Atsushi threw Akutagawa against a wall, knocking the wind out of him. Akutagawa groaned, pulling himself away from the wall.
“You left yourself open,” called Atsushi.
“I noticed.”
Akutagawa ran at Atsushi, Rashomon cutting through the air. He formed his ability into claws, extending out from his hands, and raked his new claws across Atsushi’s chest. Dark lines of blood formed on the charcoal fabric of the weretiger’s shirt.
Atsushi twisted to the side and kicked at Akutagawa, but the detective dodged out of the way just in time, using Rashomon to redirect Atsushi’s foot. Atsushi slipped, tumbling onto the ground. He got up on his hands and knees, scowling.
“This is so much harder without the tiger.”
“You still have your strength, and your healing. Two things I lack.”
Atsushi stood up and dusted himself off. “Are you really comparing abilities with me right now? At least you can control yours without losing your head, or…” Atsushi reached up to touch his scarred neck, hidden behind his turtleneck.
“You will learn to control it,” Akutagawa said firmly.
The two resumed their sparring, fists and blades meeting in a dance of skills. Atsushi proved to be incredibly flexible, flipping over one of Akutagawa’s attacks, and one of his punches was strong enough to leave a crack in Akutagawa’s Rashomon shield. Still, Akutagawa maintained the upper hand, expertly redirecting or outright blocking most of Atsushi’s hits. In the meantime, he got in a few good slashes.
They had agreed to go all-out, but Akutagawa found himself pulling some of his attacks, not wanting to spear his opponent too deeply. The weretiger would heal, certainly, and yet… Akutagawa didn’t want to hurt him.
Atsushi swept a leg under Akutagawa’s feet, catching the detective by surprise. Akutagawa landed on his back, and Atsushi pounced on top of him, pinning his hands to the ground.
Breathing heavily, the two stared at eachother. Atsushi was so close that Akutagawa could feel the weretiger’s breath on his own lips.
He felt his insides twist, and his mouth parted in a gasp.
Atsushi looked down at his lips, then back at Akutagawa’s dark eyes. Something flickered in them. A question.
“Get off me,” Akutagawa muttered, averting his eyes.
Atsushi did.
“Let’s take a break,” the weretiger offered good-naturedly. His eyes showed no trace of the question in them moments ago.
They sat heavily on a stack of crates within the abandoned warehouse they’d chosen as their sparring grounds.
“You’re amazing, you know,” Atsushi said. “Your control over your ability, it’s…
He looked off in the distance, as if searching for the word, but he came up with nothing.
“Years in the slums,” Akutagawa said, by way of explanation. “And practice with Oda. You will learn, when you face him.”
“He really agreed to work with me?”
“He did. You’ll be considered a consultant of the Agency. Not an official member, but something adjacent to it.”
Atsushi’s eyes lit up, and he beamed. “I’m honored.”
Akutagawa found himself studying Atsushi’s features. He seemed so bright, the burdens from before lifted. In Akutagawa’s eyes, he shined.
“The world of light suits you,” Akutagawa commented.
Atsushi’s face went red and he stuttered out, “What? Why would you… I… thank you?”
Akutagawa’s gaze lingered on Atsushi’s flushed face for a moment before he turned his eyes away, feeling his own face begin to warm.
“It suits you too, you know,” Atsushi offered.
Akutagawa shook his head. “No. I am allowed to be within the light, but I sense I do not belong here as you do. I cast shadows.”
Atsushi looked at him hard. “Lanterns cast shadows. You belong here just as much as I do.”
Akutagawa pressed a hand to his chest, feeling something stir within. He seemed to feel that way around the weretiger often.
“I am no lantern,” Akutagawa muttered.
“You are to me,” Atsushi insisted. He set a hand on Akutagawa’s shoulder, and the detective could feel his heart thundering harder than before.
They looked at eachother for a long moment before Atsushi removed his hand and looked away, coughing awkwardly.
Akutagawa looked down as his chest, where his heart still beat furiously. He would have to ask Yosano about this.
Akutagawa shifted from one foot to another, nervously standing outside the infirmary door. Finally, he drew up the courage to knock.
Yosano appeared a moment later. “Akutagawa! What brings you here?”
“I fear I may have a condition,” Akutagawa answered sullenly.
Yosano’s eyes lit up. “A condition? Are you in need of healing?”
“A diagnosis,” Akutagawa answered flatly.
Yosano pushed the door open wider, allowing Akutagawa in. He sat in the exam chair.
“Tell me about your symptoms,” Yosano said, sitting down opposite him, clipboard in hand.
“I have begun to have… heart palpitations. Sometimes my chest clenches, as though squeezed. And my stomach seems to quiver at the merest provocation.”
“Nausea?” Yosano asked.
“Not quite. It’s more of a… flurry. Sometimes I feel like all the nerves in my chest are flickering.”
Yosano tapped the end of her pen to her mouth absently.
“I see. You said this happens ‘at the slightest provocation.’ What sort of stimuli provokes these sensations?”
“A smile,” Akutagawa answered immediately. “Close proximity.”
Yosano looked up at him, now looking intensely curious. “Close proximity to what?”
“A person.”
Yosano’s eyes glittered. “Which person?”
“Is that relevant?”
“It might be. Does this happen with everyone or just a specific person?”
“A specific person,” Akutagawa said decisively.
Yosano grinned. “Fluttering in the stomach, heart palpitations, and all in response to a particular someone. It seems to me you have feelings for this someone.”
“Feelings?”
“Romantic feelings,” Yosano clarified.
Akutagawa blanched. He knew nothing about romance.
“How do I cure it?”
Yosano laughed. “Oh dear. That’s one thing my ability can’t fix. You’ll have to figure it out on your own.”
“You won’t tell me what to do?”
“I can give you some advice, if you want it,” Yosano offered.
“I would like the advice, then.”
Yosano set her pen down and looked Akutagawa in the eye. “Confess your feelings.”
Akutagawa frowned. “I don’t know how to do that.”
“Just be honest with the person making you feel this way. See what happens.”
Akutagawa rolled that thought around in his head. He stood up.
“Thank you, Dr. Yosano.”
Akutagawa sat nervously at their usual booth. Atsushi was late.
The detective added an extra sugar cube to his tea and took a sip. He wrinkled his nose at the sweetness, but took another sip anyways.
The bell on the front door jingled, signifying its opening. Akutagawa’s head jerked up, and he saw Atsushi step into the café. Atsushi looked around for a moment before spotting Akutagawa. He smiled and came over, sitting down across from Akutagawa.
“Hey! Sorry I’m late, I got caught up with stuff at the orphanage. What’s up?”
Akutagawa glanced down as his tea, swirling the liquid around in his cup.
“I have been advised to speak with you about my condition.”
Atsushi’s brows furrowed. “Your… condition? Are you okay?”
Akutagawa set his cup down and looked up. “Might we have this conversation outside? I would like to go for a walk.”
“Oh. Sure, okay.”
Akutagawa left his pay at the table and led the way out, heading down towards a side street. Atsushi tagged closely behind, catching up with Akutagawa’s pace as they reached the edge of the building. Nerves swirled in Akutagawa’s stomach, but the bracing cold of the outside helped to settle the feeling.
“You see,” Akutagawa began uncertainly. “When I’m around you, I find myself… disturbed.”
Atsushi looked confused again. “Disturbed?”
“There is an uncomfortable feeling in my stomach that can best be described as fluttering. And my heart seems to beat abnormally loud and fast.”
Atsushi nearly tripped over himself. “What?”
“I have feelings for you,” said Akutagawa simply. “Romantic feelings, if that’s unclear.”
Atsushi stopped fully in his tracks and stared. “You’re kidding.”
“I am not.”
“We tried to kill eachother six months ago.”
Akutagawa turned to face Atsushi. “And we’re allies now. What does our past have to do with it?”
“But… but… you’re you. And I’m just me.”
Akutagawa frowned. “Are you devaluing yourself?”
“Am I…” Atsushi shook his head. “I don’t know, Akutagawa. I mean, I was part of the mafia.”
“That is not all that you are,” Akutagawa said determinedly. “You care for this city. And for people. More than I do. You have… a very large heart. You are worthy of my affections.”
Atsushi’s lips parted, but no words came out. Finally, in a small voice, he said, “You mean that?”
“I do.”
Atsushi wrung his hands together. “I… I’ve been trying not to, but… I have feelings too. For you. Romantic ones.”
Akutagawa hadn’t thought he would get this far.
“I see,” he said. His eyes flitted down to Atsushi’s mouth. He could hear Atsushi’s breath hitch.
Cautiously, Akutagawa reached a hand out and brushed it against Atsushi’s hand. Atsushi startled like a deer, jerking back slightly before looking down to see what had touched him. He swallowed, releasing his hands and allowing one to touch Akutagawa. The detective repositioned his hand, threading his fingers through Atsushi’s. Hands joined, they resumed their walk.
“You’re so hard to read,” Atsushi commented. “I would have never in a million years guessed that you had feelings for me. I thought you were about to tell me you were dying.”
“If I were dying, Dr. Yosano could fix that. She has already informed me that she cannot do so with this.”
“Do you… want her to?”
Akutagawa considered. “I did, at first. I am… unfamiliar with romance. But it is not, altogether, an unpleasant feeling. Not when I’m with you.”
He glanced over and found Atsushi with a blush spreading across his cheeks.
“I don’t really know anything about romance either,” Atsushi confessed. “I just know I like you.”
“Why? I’m hardly the kindest or smartest or strongest person around.”
“You’re kind in your own way,” Atsushi said. “You shine in a way that’s unique to you, and draws other people in. Like your detective agency. They all like you. Not like I like you, obviously, but… still. You helped bring me to the light. To me, you’ll always be that person. And I’m grateful.”
“Gratefulness does not equate to attraction.”
Atsushi laughed. “No. But I… I thought that’s all it was, for a while. I get it too, you know. The butterflies. The racing heart. When you smile, Akutagawa, you… god, you could bring ships in with how brightly you glow.”
“Bring ships in?”
“Like a lighthouse.”
Akutagawa felt his face heat up. He scrunched his head down into his coat, allowing his scarf to hide his red cheeks.
The two walked in silence for a while, hands intertwined. Akutagawa looked out over the city, lost in thought. This, they were meant to protect. This city, and the world.
“We make a good pair,” he said abruptly.
“We do?” Atsushi asked curiously.
“All I can see is the shadows I cast, but you see me as a lantern, casting light. You bring that light out of me. And I brought you into the light so you can blaze brilliantly as you are.”
Atsushi stopped, turning to face Akutagawa. There was something electric in the air between them, in the space between black and gold-violet eyes. Atsushi reached for the lapel of Akutagawa’s overcoat, tugging him closer.
“I’m going to kiss you now,” he whispered.
Akutagawa hummed and allowed his eyes to fall shut. Atsushi’s lips pressed into his, soft and chilled from the cold. Akutagawa lifted his free hand to Atsushi’s face, cupping his cheek and stroking back into his short hair. He moved his lips tentatively against Atsushi’s until the weretiger pulled away.
Atsushi leaned his forehead against Akutagawa’s shoulder.
“Do you think he knew? When he pitted us against eachother, when he told us the fate of the world was in our hands… do you think Dazai knew we would end up this way?”
Akutagawa moved his hand down, pressing it lightly against the weretiger’s back in a gentle embrace.
“That man knew many things. He’d seen into many possible universes. Perhaps we are together in others.”
“You think so?”
“I do.”