Archive of Our Own

Five months, two weeks, and three days had passed since Atsushi turned into a tiger. Perhaps that wouldn’t be deemed unusual, considering he was a tiger shifter. Except, he hadn’t turned back since. 

It had followed their usual Tuesday evening rendezvous. Cicadas groaned loudly about the late July heat. After, well—everything, Akutagawa and Atsushi’s partnership had grown into something cordial. Tuesday evenings found Akutagawa in the cafe beneath the ADA, awaiting the end of Atsushi’s shift. Their meetings helped Atsushi clock out on time, as Akutagawa’s patience was one of his many infamously slim traits. After the weretiger apologized profusely for his usual belatedness, so began their Tuesday routine: following the weretiger’s nose to dinner, taking the scenic route back to his dorms, and bidding him adieu before Akutagawa clocked in for his own shift at the Port Mafia. There was nothing out of the ordinary until Akutagawa came home after a long shift to a 180kg white beast sitting patiently on his doormat. 

“And to what do I owe the pleasure?” Akutagawa asked wearily. He’d been looking forward to a warm shower before tucking in early.

The tiger simply chuffed before turning his head away, tail waving lazily behind him. 

Akutagawa rolled his eyes and reached around awkwardly to unlock his apartment door. As soon as it opened, the tiger strolled inside as though Akutagawa were but a tardy doorman. Akutagawa let out a heavy sigh. He hadn’t the desire to unravel Atsushi’s strange behavior that night. 

Long shower, condensed skincare routine, and a set of silky pajamas later, Akutagawa looked out into his living room to find the weretiger, perched rather awkwardly atop his usual spot on the couch in his beastly form. 

“Jinko, I’m rather fatigued. I’d appreciate your departure at this time,” Akutagawa urged gently. When the tiger showed no sign of leaving, anxiety began to fester in Akutagawa's core.

“Could it be… you're under some sort of ability?” 

Though the weretiger’s behavior was fairly abnormal, it shouldn’t have been any of Akutagawa’s concern. There should have been no reason he saw his fingers disappear beneath wiry fur. The starlit coat enveloped his hand like warm sand on a sunny beach. The tiger leaned into his touch and let out another chuff before scraping his tongue against Akutagawa’s forearm. The sensation, damp and coarse, startled Akutagawa out of his daze.

“Jinko,” he said, voice coming out gentler than he intended, “impressive as your tiger is, can you return to your dullish man-form?”

The tiger showed no sign of comprehension, instead leaning his head forward to chase Akutagawa’s touch again. Akutagawa forfeited his hand to indulge the tiger but used the other to dial Dazai’s number.

“Akutagawa-kun,” Dazai answered mid-yawn, “you’re lucky I recognize this number. I don’t usually take phone calls this earl—” 

“I think he's under the influence of some sort of ability," Akutagawa interrupted. "He has taken the white tiger’s form and seems to lack the faculties to change back.”

“Hmm… very curious,” Dazai said, pausing for what Akutagawa could only assume was a maddening dramatic effect. “Well, I’ll be there in a jiffy. Ciao!” 

Akutagawa stared at the dead line in his hand before a giant paw knocked the phone out of his hand. 

“Ok, you dreadful creature,” he surrendered, turning his attention back to the weretiger. 

Not fifteen minutes passed when the tiger’s rounded ear suddenly twitched. He straightened his posture and stilled his tail.

“What is it, Jinko?” Akutagawa whispered. The tiger’s ears twisted again. “What do you hear?”

Akutagawa observed the candlelight in the tiger’s eyes as he zoned into his auditory senses. The fire warped and danced until it grew into a flaming star, pulling Akutagawa into its gravity.

Akutagawa had lost count of how many orbits he’d made around the sun before him when the tiger suddenly turned his head toward the door. He wrinkled his nose, took a few quick breaths, and rolled his back lazily to analyze the air. Dark pupils swallowed what remained of fiery golden irises. The weretiger underwent a second transformation—from perfect show specimen to ruthless predator who’d found its prey.

With grace that assumed complete authority, the tiger lifted from the couch and began to prance toward the front door. Regal might rippled through sinewy muscle, shoulders moving like tectonic plates forming mountains and valleys over the paths mapped over his back. His tail swung to and fro with a polite feline hook. The casual power he exuded was almost sensual, and Akutagawa found he could not take his eyes off the magnificent beast. He chose a spot before the door and crouched down, fierce eyes locked on the door and nose wrinkled in furious focus. Gentle growls echoed through the quiet apartment, like the tiger couldn’t contain his aggression, and Akutagawa wondered if he really was a cat or a guard dog in disguise.

Just as he’d assumed the pose of an ambush predator, a knock arrived like a quip on the door.

It was Dazai, Akutagawa quickly realized. He made to open the door, but when he approached to step around the tiger, its hind legs paddled to rotate its position, blocking Akutagawa from getting through.

“Really?” a muffled voice sounded from behind the door. “You’re gonna make me pick the lock?”

Muffled sigh painted their mentor’s rolling eyes.

Crinkles of tin scratched against steel.

The cat’s growls grew louder.

His hind legs waddled in anticipation of a fight.

“Dazai-san, wait—!”

But it was too late. Dazai was already opening the door to a sure but painful death.

“Oh, hello Atsushi-kun,” Dazai said, only mildly surprised at the fearsome beast crouched before him. “At ease. I’ll leave your Akutagawa alone. I’m just here for you.”

Just like that, the tiger flopped onto his back, exposing his belly and folded paws like a common whor—house cat!

“How sweet. It’s good to see you too, but we’re gonna need Atsushi back, ok?” 

As Dazai crouched down to pet his head, the tiger leaned up to meet his touch. It left a bitter taste in Akutagawa’s mouth. 

Under No Longer Human's effect, a blue glow emitted from the tiger only to fade away just as quickly. The tiger remained. 

“Huh. That’s strange,” Dazai said, standing back up. “Well, I tried. Guess there’s nothing more I can do.”

The man had the audacity to turn around in an attempt to leave.

“Don't you dare!" Akutagawa warned. "Care to provide an explanation for the failure of your ability?"

Dazai turned to face Akutagawa, a deep frown set on his face. He sighed. “Slow as ever, aren’t you, Akutagawa-kun? It didn't fail. It's just that what you see before you is a tiger, not the tiger ability. No Longer Human doesn’t work on tigers.”

“Then how can we go about changing him back?”

“We can’t,” Dazai said solemnly. “Atsushi seems to have surrendered himself to the tiger. Both Atsushi and Byakko have to agree to transform back to himself.”

“But why?”

“That’s not something I can answer for him. You’ll have to figure that out yourself.”

“Why me? You’re the detectives. Take him back with you!”

“Akutagawa-kun really is dumb if he thinks I can drag two hundred kilograms of cat wherever I please.”

With that, the lanky man turned around and left, and Akutagawa was once again left with the oversized cat.

“Make yourself at home, I suppose,” Akutagawa said to it. He wondered if he would have to purchase a Costco-sized litter box before deciding he'd leave the striped problem for tomorrow. “My bedroom is off limits.”

Tomorrow came, and the striped problem was there to stay. He went about his routine as usual, largely unbothered by the tiger that followed him like a shadow yet never stood in his way. Had he invited the weretiger into his abode one too many times? What other explanation was there for how much ease the tiger moved around his residence?

His mafia work carried on as usual, only interrupted by his colleagues’ astonished pauses and passing double takes. Perhaps out of fear or out of the relatively trivial nature of the situation, they understood to quickly dismiss the tiger in the room.

A few times a day, the weretiger would slip away for no more than an hour, perhaps to hunt or relieve himself or visit the agency. Wherever he'd go was none of Akutagawa's concern. The weretiger was free to go where he liked, to do with his time what he wished. Yet, in the tiger’s absence, Akutagawa felt restless. Doubts of whether the weretiger would return, or if he'd run off forever into the wild clouded his mind. Much to his relief, the tiger returned like a loyal guardian to Akutagawa's side without fail. He wondered each time if it would be futile to ask where the tiger had gone before scolding himself for the selfish nature of such a question. 

Like so, two weeks had passed ever seamlessly. Akutagawa had never spent more time with Atsushi than he had the past couple weeks, and he found that he didn’t mind in the least. It was ridiculous, really, why the tiger followed him around. Surely Atsushi had better things to do, such as unpack whatever dilemma made his human form undesirable. At any rate, the tiger’s internal conflict was of no consequence to Akutagawa. As long as he was still Atsushi, Akutagawa would accept whatever form he preferred to embody. He was his partner, after all.

Nonetheless, a dull ache in his chest threatened to make itself known. As much as he refused to acknowledge the blue knife's edge, he became well acquainted with the prickling behind his eyes each night while he lay in bed. 

Art by Pichabel

“Akutagawa-senpai, sir!” Higuchi called, approaching him with her usual professional enthusiasm. He had just reported for duty, white tiger following closely behind. “You’ve made headlines, sir.”

“My face on the front cover is hardly news. It must be a slow day at the Yokohama Times,” Akutagawa responded. "Would you like me to sue them for defamation?”

“No, sir. I just thought you’d like to see this.”

Supplemented with a CCTV image of Akutagawa bending down to pet Atsushi's head and a beer bottle in his other hand, the headline read: “In Yokohama: Drunk Mafioso Pets Mysterious White Tiger.”

Akutagawa covered his mouth with his right hand. Surely there was a mistake. There was no way such a trifling headline would appear on The Asahi Shimbun. The tiger behind him sat astutely, tail flicking against the ground in some sort of smug display. 

Perhaps he really should sue for defamation, Akutagawa thought as he read through the article. This portrayal of him—it wasn’t right. It made him look… soft. He was the rabid dog of the Port Mafia! Not some animal whisperer who indulges in furry fondling in the night. He continued his read:

In a fit of humiliation, Rashomon shredded the newspaper into floating bits of dusty confetti as Akutagawa struggled to swallow a word of profanity. He knew he’d become something of a public figure in Yokohama, but his private moments shared with the weretiger were something he wanted to keep for himself. They'd become almost sacred, like his days off with his sister.

As he recalled, he’d only had one drink that night, at Tachihara’s insistence. He thought it would help ease the ache in his chest that had been gnawing at him all day. The alcohol helped clear his mind a bit. It had certainly helped ease his distress when the weretiger failed to return his petty remarks. He hadn't realized the person nagging him about his cool exotic pet was actually a journalist and not some suicidal dolt flirting with death himself. Foolish he was to reach out there on the street, but he thought no one was looking. How dare they use his own word against him? How dare they publicize his private life? And what of the weretiger? Was he even aware of what was being said about him? Being reduced to an animal? Being observed so closely by a zoo?

From then on, Akutagawa ensured they walked through back alleys and the Port Mafia's tunnels to get home undetected. He wouldn't be able to enjoy the night view with Atsushi anymore, but such was the cost of some privacy in a big city.

Another week or so later, Akutagawa found himself on an inconsequential courier assignment when he heard a sharp whisk followed by dull thud and a sharp pain on his left quad. He whipped his head in the direction of his shooter but saw nothing as his vision began to darken quickly. His eyelids grew heavy, and gravity pulled him harshly toward the ground. The last he heard before falling onto what must have been a warm, furry rug was the mighty roar of a tiger. That’s more like it, he thought, there was the infamous call of the jungle.

Images of starlight hair flashed before Akutagawa. Twin golden suns over a dawning sky, warm eyes looked toward him in a sadness that for once was not pity but… empathy? When Akutagawa reached forward, his hands landed on a coarse coat of fur. Everything was white with black stripes. And black and white. Endless black and white. He needed to find that boy. He needed to get to him. He needed him.

Akutagawa sat up in a gasp so deep it hurt. He looked to his side, and sure enough, Higuchi was by his side. Already, he mourned the fading images of his dream. Only its message remained. He gulped for air between sore coughs as she rubbed his back.

“Senpai, slow breaths through your nose," she said. "Gin told me it helps.” 

“Where is he?” Akutagawa wheezed as soon as he steadied his breath enough. 

“He’s safe, don’t worry," Higuchi assured.

He shot her a displeased look. 

“He’s at the Ueno Zoo!” she squeaked. 

Akutagawa flung off the thin hospital sheet and booked it out the door.

When he'd arrived at the zoo, the tiger was lazing beneath a canopy, grooming himself without a care in the world. Upon Akutagawa's arrival, he stood up and pranced over to the window, resuming his languid activity leaning against the glass. 

“Weretiger,” Akutagawa said against the glass, “I’m here.” 

The tiger showed no sign of comprehending, and that all too familiar ache yawed through his chest. He wondered if it was even right for him to be here. 

“Is this where you want to be? Is it spacious enough? Are you getting enough water? Enough food?” he asked.

Still, no response. He examined the enclosure: there was greenery everywhere, rocky structures for him to climb on, water to swim in, trees to scratch his claws against, and sheds to shelter him from the sun and rain.

“Weretiger, say the word and we can escape together," Akutagawa pleaded, "but I won’t know if you don’t at least give me a sign.”

The tiger lifted his head, the closest thing to a response Akutagawa had ever gotten. He chuffed and looked away once more. What was that supposed to mean? Akutagwa thought desperately. 

“So be it,” Akutagawa decided. “I shall stand guard here until you can show me you desire otherwise.”

To Akutagawa, it didn't matter that the zookeepers had spent more time studying tiger behavior when he'd spent even longer studying the behavior of the weretiger. He was human and tiger. One was not separate from the other, no matter how much he wished to reject either side. His choice to take the tiger's form this time around did not take away his humanity. Akutagawa knew him. He knew his partner. He knew his soul, Nakajima Atsushi; and for him, Akutagawa stood guard, unmoving from his post except to briefly take care of his own needs, returning no more than an hour later.

When night came, Akutagawa refused to abandon his guard. He fought to keep his eyes open long after evening bled to night, and when he could no more, he knelt onto the concrete, leaned his head against the glass separating him from Atsushi, and surrendered to a dreamless sleep.

The yawning dawn's glow knocked on Akutagawa's eyes, rousing him to a new day. The first thing he saw was the white tiger already looking back. He was leaning against him, separated only by the thick window pane of the zoo display. Akutagawa learned to cherish these moments when he and the weretiger were the only people in the zoo. To him, it felt as though they were the only two people in the universe. The zoo was but a public space, and those moments never lasted long enough, for when the first visitors began to trickle in, they returned to mighty tiger and his loyal knight.

Six weeks passed seamlessly like so: Akutagawa stood stoic and steadfast on guard, only scowling when a security guard dared to challenge his post. He ate the often extravagant bentos of visitors who foolishly forgot them near the enclosure. Such strange behavior in Tokyo. But he would take advantage of anything that would allow him to stand near the weretiger even one minute more.

One visitor, brave or daft enough, approached Akutagawa with a blog article in hand. Bored, he deigned to read it:

Akutatawa rolled his eyes. After six weeks at the zoo, he became familiar with this Hideki punk. All he did was dilly-dally with the weretiger, completely butchering most of his job, and now he was spewing lies? Akutagawa broke into the showers himself. And what accommodations? He'd been sleeping on the cold hard ground ever since day one when they wanted him off zoo grounds. He continued reading:

"I shall permit you one question," Akutagawa said to the brave visitor, pleased with his heroic portrayal in the article.

"Oh! Uh-uh… W-why won't you let people visit the white tiger?" he asked.

"He is not a tiger. He is a man, not some sensation for the public eye," Akutagawa replied. "Even if he were, they should not look upon the mighty beast for so long lest he grow an ego."

The article stayed on Akutagawa's mind the entire day, for not much else held his attention apart from the weretiger. He considered that Hideki kid. His alleged #1 fan. Forgiven. He couldn't wait to tell the weretiger about his victorious popularity. Whenever Atsushi came back.

When would he come back? He knew he was the tiger. But there was still an aching absence.

Akutagawa shook off the thought. As the knight understood his duty, he returned his gaze forward, standing guard once more.

Akutagawa noticed the tiger's unease before he spotted dark eyes of aged plum wine, malice ever hidden behind a smile, and the debonair of the Port Mafia boss. Akutagawa dropped to his knees in a fearful reverence.

"Boss," Akutagawa greeted.

"Akutagawa-kun," Mori said. "How unusual of you to be stationed in one place for such a long period of time."

"Boss, my partner's extended transformation and subsequent captivity is unprecedented. My duties are here with him."

"Akutagawa-kun, he will remain your partner whether he resides in a zoo or in a dormitory closet. I am afraid you have used up all of your PTO during this… exotic stay."

"Understood, sir," Akutagawa replied. His voice was strained. They both knew this was not a matter of PTO.

"Well then, I'm glad you understand. I'm going to take a stroll around the cackling goose section with Elise. I expect you in my office by the time I get back."

"Yes sir."

Under the cooling autumn air, Akutagawa's body was frozen stiff in a cold pit of dread. So much had changed already with the weretiger's transformation into his tiger form and refusal to shift back, but it was tolerable when he was by his side. After he was captured, Akutagawa was willing to bend his life over to remain near him. Now, was he only going to see Atsushi on the weekends? Akutagawa dreaded going back to his apartment alone, where he would find monster tires, a custom-made jumbo cat hammok, and frozen blood blocks in the freezer with no tiger to accompany them. He imagined all the white fur stuck to his laundry and no tiger to nag to. His apartment, which had accrued more clutter than ever before, was going to be emptier than it ever was. He couldn't stand the thought, but he had no other choice.

Akutagawa turned around to face the weretiger. One glance at those warm, fiery eyes, and he knew he had to close his own. How could he well tell him he was to leave while looking into begging pots of honey?

"I swear," Akutagawa said, forehead and palms pressed against the glass. "I will return."

Before he could change his mind, he turned around and left, swallowing the heavy pit in his throat. He didn't see the tiger sitting before the glass, staring intently at the prey before him, the prey that dared turn his back toward him. Akutagawa didn't see that unforgiving gaze nor the disbelieving swishing tail.

After a grueling twelve-hour shift, it wasn't possible to recall most of what his tasks consisted of, only that he needed to get back to the tiger.

"Go home, kid," Chuuya said, giving him a heavy pat between his shoulders. When had they even begun talking? "Not back to the zoo, back home. Take a nice shower, change your clothes for christ's sake, and if by then you still want to go to see that damn tiger, give me a call, and I'll drive you there myself, 'kay?"

"Yes, sir."

Akutagawa's feet dragged him back to his apartment, empty as it was bereft of its essence. It's not like the tiger ever did any chores or helped around the house, so why was everything so much more difficult without him around?

Turning the key to his apartment, Aktuagawa was ready to fall through the door. Instead, he found himself falling backwards as 200 kilograms crushed him to the floor.

"Weretiger!" Akutagawa wheezed out.

The tiger let out a deplorable wail, deep and pathetic, unfitting of a supposed king of the jungle. He was pressing his brawny body heavy against Akutagawa's, smothering him completely. Though every muscle in Akutagawa's body was demanding for oxygen, screaming at him to escape from underneath, louder were the screams in his heart telling him to hold the tiger tight and never let him go.

The tiger nuzzled his cheeks, long whiskers nearly poking his eyes, wet nose smearing against his own, and hot breath hitting his neck.

Akutagawa was on the brink of passing out when the tiger rolled onto its side, exposing his belly to Akutagawa. With a dramatic gasp and an arm hanging high in the air, Akutagawa slapped his hand onto the tiger's chest, still heaving and coughing desperately for his breath.

"You came back! You came back," Akutagawa croaked. "Though I swore I would return to you, I should have known you would beat me to it. I cede this victory to you, my glorious weretiger."

When Akutagawa was to report for duty the next day, a small bob-cut and a microphone blocked his path forward.

"Sir, sir, we are with TV Asahi. We have spoken with you before. The White Tiger was at the Ueno Zoo not two days ago. Did you break him out? How did you accomplish such a feat?" the bob-cut said, short legs shuffling quickly to keep up with Akutagawa's pace. The tiger behind him seemed to perk up at the attention, his trot featuring a new proud bounce.

"Don't be ridiculous. I did not break him out. See for yourself—CCTVs do not lie. It seems he was perfectly capable of entering and exiting as he pleased and only stayed at the zoo to spite me. I suppose two days ago he's finally decided he needed a change in scenery," Akutagawa answered. Though his eyes were already covered by his sunglasses, his delight at an opportunity to talk about his tiger was masked beneath a sneer of feigned agitation.

"You know, there are several concerns raised by netizens and zookeepers alike. The people want to know if the tiger is receiving the care that he needs."

"You dare accuse me of animal-abuse?" Akutagawa said, completely miffed at the insinuation.

"Well, you have to know, your possession of an exotic species is completely unlicensed. The public is concerned of their safety as well as that of the tiger."

At that, Akutagawa's continuous march was brought to a halt. He finally looked down at the reporter over his sunglasses in a daunting glare.

"Fine. I shall accept a brief interrogation if that is what it takes to justify my custody of the weretiger," he stated, "not that I need to. The weretiger is free to come and go as he pleases. He just happens to remain glued to my side like a grudge."

As if understanding the conversation before him, the tiger whipped Akutagawa's behind with his tail. How preposterous! Not once had the tiger indicated he understood human speech, only to selectively comprehend it now? Akutagawa swore to take his revenge later.

In truth, Akutagawa wasn't sure why he donned matching sunglasses with the weretiger that day. Tachihara had insisted they wore them for some mission purpose, and he was sure the two of them looked professional before the media if Tachihara's judgements were correct.

Following his interrogation, the reporter only left Akutagawa alone for two weeks before bombarding him outside his building before he could report in for duty. They handed him a thick sheet of paper and flashed a glaring light as his photograph was taken without his permission.

"Congratulations, Akutagawa-san, on your Exotic Animal Permit. Your story with the White Tiger has taken the hearts of the Yokohama people. They have appealed to give you special permission to keep the white tiger with you."

"Fools. I do not need a permit to keep the weretiger. As I've said before, he is not a tiger—he is a man."

The bizarre interaction was sure to precede another ridiculous article Akutagawa had no interest in indulging. He was growing rather tired of the song and dance the media dragged him into. He would rather return to the mundanity of living alongside a tiger in the privacy of his apartment.

That night, Kyouka had paid another visit to his apartment. Five months ago, it had started as an awkward truce of Akutagawa letting her in to see Atsushi. The two would sit together on the carpet while Akutagawa busied himself around the apartment. He understood the two shared a connection he would never come close to.

Eventually, it became something of an amicable accord as they sat in silence over a cup of tea before her departure. Any occasional conversation between himself and Kyouka consisted of frivolous jokes at the weretiger's expense, though they both knew it was only to mask their longing for the man beneath the beastly facade. Still, Akutagawa was becoming rather fond of his thawing friendship with Kyouka. They were coming closer to something that resembled forgiveness.

After he had bid the young girl adieu that night, he and the tiger occupied the better part of his couch. He purchased an extension not long after the tiger began lounging on his furniture, leaving little space for Akutagawa himself. BBC Earth played on the television as he snuggled against the snow-covered hearth which squirmed rather excitedly at the gazelles on screen. Akutagawa let his mind wander, thinking Atsushi would have been delighted at the idea of him and Kyouka finally getting along. How ironic they could only achieve such a feat in his absence.

At the thought, the giant cushion disappeared from beneath Akutagawa, causing his weight to tip backward onto the couch. The cat had decided to pounce at the moving picture of what he foolishly mistook for dinner.

"Shit," Akutagawa swore under his breath. He pushed himself back into a sitting position, noticing the tiger had already turned around to face him, sitting polite as a gentleman. Something on his face must have caught the weretiger's attention. It was only when Aktuagawa touched his hand to his cheek that he realized he was crying. The stream of tears was as steady as the constant melancholic undercurrent that haunted his past five months.

When Akutagawa looked up at the tiger sitting before him, he swore he saw a flicker of violet in those feline eyes. He reached out and gripped the jowls of his tiger, pressing their foreheds together. Like that, he sobbed and sobbed until he could no more. He wasn't even sure what for. He had the weretiger beside him. In fact, the weretiger hadn't left his side for more than an hour at a time for the past five months! What more could he want? Why was he so ridden with despair?

"Weretiger," Akutagawa croaked out. He lifted his head and kept his gaze steady on the tiger. "Listen carefully so as to not twist my words as you so often do. I will not pretend to understand the intricacies of your ties with the tiger. I know you two exist independently, but you are nonetheless one. I can only hope you can hear me when I say this: Atsushi Nakajima, I love you.

"I love you, Atsushi, so desperately, so painfully, and so wondrously, that I do not care if you never decide to shift back. I love you as you are, tiger or man, or anything in between. I'll care for you no matter the form you take, and I will stay by your side however you will have me: as your rival, partner, lover or friend. My heart is forever stained with the shade of your soul. For you, I’d push love past its limits—it would see corners of the universe unexplored before."

Akutagawa pressed a kiss to the calligraphy of the tiger's forehead before continuing: "But, Atsushi. Oh, Atsushi! How I miss the days we used to spend together as man and man. Your tardy Tuesday rendezvous, your sharp-witted tongue, the fingers that fit so perfectly between my own… Your smile. It was as blinding as it was impossible to look away from.

"So, even if you never again take the form of a man, just know that I cherish every moment we had together; and if you so brave the world once more in your human form, I would treasure every waking moment with you."

"You really are quite the blabber-mouth," came Atsushi's voice.

Akutagawa looked up in shock to find the color of home staring back at him. He wrapped his arms around the weretiger in a fervent embrace. His hands explored every dip and curve of the human figure, taking in the entirety of Atsushi Nakajima.

"You're back."

"You said you loved me."

"I do," Akutagawa replied. He began sobbing into the weretiger's shoulder. "I do, I do, I do!"

"I love you too," Atsushi whispered back.

Six months had passed since Atsushi turned into a tiger. One week and four days passed since the bastard finally turned back, and he was already acting as impudent as ever.

"You did not sleep on the floor of the zoo!" Atsushi said, giggling and leaning his head against Akutagawa's chest on the couch some weeks later.

"Did too. And there is plenty of evidence online to prove it," Akutagawa replied, smug as he rubbed his socked feet against Atsushi's.

"Really?" Atsushi said, lifting his head to search Akutagawa's eyes. "Akutagawa, you didn't have to…"

"I did. You are my partner. And I would do it again."

Akutagawa couldn't stand the sorrowful look in his lover's eyes.

"Atsushi," he said gently, "do you truly not remember anything?"

His lover shook his pretty head.

"Nothing," he said. He looked off into the distance as if trying to recall a past life. "Byakko must have only woken me after she heard you utter the words 'I love you.'"

A wide grin invaded Akutagawa's face, causing an ache in his cheeks. "How cliché, the three magic words that woke prince charming."

"Stop!" Atsushi said, slapping Akutagawa's arm. It hurt much more than Akutagawa was willing to let on.

After he recovered, Akutagawa finally asked what had been on his mind since his lover's return, "Why did you ask Byakko to take over in the first place?"

Atsushi sighed. He thought for a moment before recalling, "I realized I was in love with you. I swear it was as seamless as falling asleep—I didn't even know it until I was too deep in!"

Akutagawa rubbed Atsushi's shoulder, sensing his distress. The weretiger collected himself before continuing: "I was so sure you didn't feel the same. It hurt. It hurt so much, and I didn't want to endure that pain. So I guess I asked Byakko to take it away."

"Fool," Akutagawa said. He guided Atsushi into a tender kiss. "I do feel the same."

"I know that now," said the weretiger, looking sincerely apologetic. "And I am so sorry I abandoned you despite it."

Aktuagawa shook his head. "You did not abandon me. Need I remind you that I love you in whatever form you take? There was not a single moment you were not by my side and thus not a single moment I did not treasure," Akutagawa said. Atsushi gazed up at him with the fondest look in his opalescent eyes. "Especially the ones absent of your stupid remarks."

As easily as he shifted between tiger and man, Atsushi's expression flipped from that of adoration to irritation. And what was Akutagawa to do but fall in love all over again?