Chapter Text
Bitterness bred in cruelty comes rushing out in silence…
I’ve grown accustomed to it all, and have leaned to bear it
But sometimes any degree of loneliness can bring you down
And while I cannot know for sure, sometimes it seems as if
These tears are no longer tears for having loved someone…- Nakahara Chuuya, Song of The Sheep
The sun hung low on the horizon, ready to bid its goodbye, casting harsh shadows and vibrant orange hues over the small crowd in front of an abandoned motel building. Their tired sighs and hushed light-hearted small talk carried by the wind in the serene silence. Exhaustion and relief shows on several of the detectives faces, some on their gait, and some on the rumpled clothes or fresh bandages. They had just managed to save Yokohama again, after all. It had been a sleepless and draining few months for the agency. Now, the air surrounding them smells peaceful, as the group engages in idle chats and carefree laughter. Like close friends. Like family.
Atsushi breathes in the smell of peace that lingers in the air around them once more, basking himself in it, before silently separating himself from his colleagues, who're starting the talk about going drinking after. In the midst of the crowd, he sees his mentor grinning widely, teasing Kunikida-san about something. He feels a fond smile spread across his lips, before heading towards the entrance of the abandoned building.
As he turned his back to leave, his tiger instinct notices Dazai-san watching his movements from the corner of his eyes, but his mentor said nothing, so Atsushi continue his steps.
The Port Mafia Executive is sitting at the edge of the roof, slightly hidden in the shadow cast by a taller building behind them, watching the sun dipped lower and lower on the horizon. A black overcoat draped over his shoulders and pools on the ground around his frame, his hat tipped low. Smoke curls from the tip of a cigarette held between gloved fingers. Amidst the dark attire, flaming orange locks and sharp blue eyes glows ever more vibrant, highlighted by the harsh shadows and orange light.
Atsushi walks over, the sound of his shoe against concrete loud in the peaceful silence, announcing his presence to the sitting male. Despite that, the man gives no sign of acknowledgement whatsoever as he merely continue to take slow drags of his cigarette before blowing white wisp of smoke onto the open air.
The young weretiger stopped beside the man, politely— if not a bit warry— addressing the other, "Nakahara-san, may I sit with you?"
The man says nothing, but tilts his chin to the empty space beside him. So Atsushi moves to sit at the appointed place, feet dangling four stories from the ground. He can see the small crowd of his colleagues down below, Kunikida-san's enraged yells and the other's laughter carried to his ears by the updraft.
Atsushi looked to his right, watching as the executive blows puffs of smoke upon puffs of smoke, as he contemplates how to start the conversation.
"Nakahara-san?"
"Chuuya", the Executive said, eyes still trained towards the horizon.
"Oh, Uhm.. Chuuya-san, uh.. I wanted to say thank you for.. for helping us." He rubs the back of his neck awkwardly, internally scolding himself for making this conversation start so awkward.
Chuuya merely shrugs. "The safety of Yokohama benefits the Port Mafia", is all he said.
"Ah.. I see.."
Atsushi fidgets in his seat, half caused by the awkward atmosphere and half because he's wrecking his brain trying to find a way to ask the question he'd been meaning to ask the Mafia Executive for awhile.
The Executive lets out an exasperated sigh, squashing the butt of his cigarette on the concrete and taking out a new one.
"If you have something to say kid, spit it out. I don't have all day," the redhead grumps as he fishes his pocket for a lighter.
This made the young weretiger jump on his seat, head snapping to the older man. His mouth opens and closes a few times, still not finding the words he wanted to say.
Azure eyes glance at the young detective briefly before settling back upon the setting sun. Silence blankets the two. A few seconds of peace. Which is weird, because aren't they supposed to be enemies?
Atsushi watches the executive, now lighting up another stick. He looked relaxed, not a care in the world, despite sitting next to an "enemy". But then again, Atsushi thought, he alone stand no chance against the other, and he knows the man knows.
What surprises him though, is his own non-existent fear towards the Mafia Executive. Instead, he feels rather calm and.. safe? Which is weird, cause going by his reputation, Nakahara-san is a murderer of hundreds. A grumpy Mafia Executive with a short fuse who's angry all the time, or that's what Dazai-san told him, which now he's starting to doubt.
Nakahara-san could kill him if he wanted to, but he never showed interest in doing so. Not now, not even along the past few months when he curiously lend a hand to the agency.
It might have been the truce, might have been all part of Dazai-san's plan, or simply as Nakahara-san told him, that helping the agency benefits the Port Mafia. But this last few months, through several of their joined missions, Atsushi saw kindness in the man's heart, as weird as it sounds.
He saw a man who cares for his subordinates, for his co-workers—A scene of the Executive ruffling Akutagawa's hair with a fond smile despite the other's complain plays in his head along the thought and bring a small smile to his lips— for the Port Mafia, for Yokohama, and for Dazai-san.
Atsushi knew to some extent— by picking up bits and pieces from several conversations that transpired over the last few months— that they were partners back at the mafia, but then Dazai-san betrayed the mafia and bombed Nakahara-san's car as he left. That's all they were, partners turned enemies. But it doesn't quite explain what he saw, or rather, what he sensed with his tiger instinct.
There's this air around them. Stolen glances, soft touches, unspoken words, hidden under their cold guise, sharp remarks, and —dare Atsushi say—childsish banter, that neither of them are willing to acknowledge.
There's also punches, kicks, knife-throwing, gun-drawing, threats, mockery, and a lot of yelling.
But that's just how partnership works isn't it? He learned that the hard way with Akutagawa. But deep down inside, even if he won't admit it out loud, he still cares for the other, and won't just left the other to die when it comes to it. Somehow, remembering their last battle, how Akutagawa trusted rashoumon to Atsushi leaving himself defenseless, and other instances where Akutagawa had saved his life, Atsushi's quite sure it also goes the other way around. But Atsushi still hate Akutagawa's guts.
"There's a thin line between love and hate, Atsushi-kun~", he remembers Dazai once said to him when he complained about having to work with Akutagawa, and wonders whether that came from personal experience.
Because Atsushi saw, clearly, with his own eyes. How Dazai-san and Nakahara-san cared for each other.
How Nakahara-san gently picked Dazai-san up after being captured and tortured by the enemy—Dazai-san claimed he planned this, but Atsushi still remembers the fear he felt for his mentor.
How right after that when they arrived at base and the others questioned Dazai for intel update and their next move, The Executive literally dragged Dazai away from them, claiming "the bastard needs rest".
How Dazai-san only let his ex-partner dressed his wounds, to look under the bandages and glared at anyone else who tried.
How Dazai-san had ran when his ex-partner used what he called corruption.
How utterly terrified he looked under the nonchalant facade as he held the Executive's body, bleeding all over, waiting for Yosano-san's arrival.
Well, "looked" was not exactly the right word, cause Dazai-san's expression is the usual emotionless one he wears when he's being serious. It's more like, the tiger inside Atsushi can smell it. Smell the thick fear permeating from his mentor's body, despite no sign of it shows on the outside.
They definitely care for each other. So why?
Why did both try to hide it under cold front and barbed insults? Why act like nothing happened? Why pretend to be oblivious and ignore it? They clearly know each other very well, so why act like strangers? Why even try?
Did he miss something?
The soft yet sad look on his mentor's eyes, the bitter smile on the Executive's lips. Everytime they interact with each other, be it seemingly light-hearted banter or cold remarks, there's always this scent Atsushi notice.
Ever since young, Atsushi unconsciously trained himself to detect people's emotion. With the tiger inside of him, his efforts developed into a survival skill. In simpler terms, he can smell other's emotions which helps him to react accordingly. That's how he survived, how he sometimes managed avoid the headmaster's anger, how he survived after escaping the orphanage, and now becomes handy in solving cases.
The scent he picked up between the two though, confused him. It's bitter, suffocating, so strong and overwhelming, yet seemingly not there, like a ghost. It's intense, yet barely there. Like the person feeling them are either suppressing them, or ignoring them.
Atsushi's not quite sure what it is. At first it smells like distaste, a hatred so strong, so putrid it assaulted his senses. But upon second whiff, there are undertones of longing, regret, and heartache. Sometimes it smells like guilt and fear, sometimes like anger and defeat, other times though, it smells so sweet yet bitter at the same time, something so akin to fondness but tainted with hurt. It's a tangled yarn-ball of different emotions. Atsushi spent quite awhile discerning the tangled emotions, picking it apart one by one to identify over the last few months. The conclusion Atsushi got was simple though, the scent he picked up was the smell of pain, and his mentor was hurting. They both were.
He doesn't get it. He doesn't understand.
Atsushi breathes in the now cold air. There it is, that smell again. Atsushi cast his glance upon the Mafia Executive beside him whose smoking his third— or is it fifth?—cigarette, his gaze on the small group of detective down below, still waiting for the liaison from the Special Ability Division. It seems that they're late, considering how the sun had creeped lower on the horizon, leaving Yokohoma only a quarter of hour away before being plunged into darkness.
It seems that the Executive left him to his own thoughts for quite some time.
"Chuuya-san?" Atsushi tries, the question he wanted to ask finally in a form of a clear sentence.
"Hm?"
"Are you in love with Dazai-san?"
The redhead seems taken aback for a second before he bursts out laughing so hard tears begin to form in the corner of his eyes.
"No. God no" The executive confirms, a little breathy, laugh still in his voice.
The young weretiger frowned, giving the Executive a long stare. Said Executive merely raised an eyebrow, staring back at him.
"Is this about Akutagawa?" The older asks, mirth still colours his voice, a knowing glint in his blue eyes.
"Wha—?? No! What makes you say that Chuuya-san?!"
Despite himself not really knowing why, the young weretiger feel heat spreads across his face.
A knowing smirk flash upon the Executive's face, before the slight amusement turns into something softer, almost nostalgic, as he fixed the young detective with a contemplative look.
"Love, huh?"
The Executive takes a long drag, gaze upon the darkening sky above. The younger follows his gaze. Some stars show their faces early today, glinting against the deep purple canvas of the sky. A wisp of smoke blurs them from view for a second before it dissipates, as the redhead releases the smoke inside his lungs with a long exhale.
"It might have been that, once upon a time."
The confession was uttered softly, almost a whisper. Bitterly, as if it was poison. Longingly as a long lost lover.
Atsushi watches the older male, as he takes another long drag, eyes trained ahead yet unseeing, gaze upon a distant past, or perhaps, another time and space.
"What changed?"
"Us". The redhead takes another drag. "We grew up".
He doesn't understand.
"I don't understand, Chuuya-san"
The older's smile is soft.
"Better if you don't kid."
"But... You care for Dazai-san don't you? And Dazai-san care for you?" I saw it, I know you do, he almost said.
The contemplative is gaze trained on him once again, as the older scrutinize the younger. Probably considering whether to elaborate or to leave it at that.
The Executive seems to come to a decision, as his gaze returns to the horizon, and a bitter chuckle slips past his lips.
"Whatever you thought we had between us is not that innoce—simple. It's fucked up, it's complicated."
The older throws him a questioning yet skeptic look, not quite sure the younger understands.
The look is far from uncalled for, rather than getting closer to an understanding, Atsushi feels further away from it. Yet his expectant gaze must have pushed the older man out of the temptation to just leave it at that.
The Executive sighs in defeat.
"That bastard only needs me to fuck his masks off him and I need him for stress relief. That answered your question?"
Atsushi, in any form of words, did not expect that.
"Wha—", he can feel his brain goes haywire from the much uneeded information. He does not need the mental image of his mentor like that.
Much to his chagrin, rather than getting embarrassed, the Executive looks slightly amused by his reaction.
"Have anyone told you that you're brutally honest Chuuya-san?" He said miserably, face feeling much too hot, eyes trained on his feet in embarrassment. He notice the rest of the Detective Agency still waiting down below as he does this.
A bright laugh pulls his gaze upwards. The Executive is throwing his head back in careless mirth, and for a split second, Atsushi thought that the man before him does not belong in the darkness of Yokohoma.
"Heard that a few times, yeah." The man chuckled lightly.
A bright grin rest on his lips, light glinting in a pair of blue orbs, fiery red hair dancing as a breeze passes by. And in that split second, Atsushi thought, that if his mentor really did fell, he understands why.
But that split second bleeds away just as fast, as shadows clouds over the Executive's features, dimming the light, dragging it back into darkness. It's the shadow of age, the one he so often finds resting upon the features of senior citizens. Weathered by life, with weary eyes that had seen anything, and everything. Like an old oak tree that had stood and witness all, be it the good and the bad. It often comes with wisdom, so he found, but tends to be accompanied with some form of regret or sadness.
They're merely four years apart, yet sometimes, Nakahara-san looked old. Nakahara-san is fire, all burning spirit and rage. Loud, boisterous, full of life, or so he'd observed. But in rare instances where the other thought no one sees, he looked tired, sad. Much like his mentor.
"Look, kid. There's a reason why I'm telling you all this." The Executive paused, bringing his cigarette to his lips.
Atsushi frowns, focusing his gaze at the older male, waiting curiously for what the other have to say.
"Dazai may have named you and Akutagawa after us, which is bad taste cause we're nowhere being appropriate role models, but whatever you do, don't let your relationship with him turn like ours."
Atsushi blinks at how Akutagawa's name had been brought up twice now. More importantly, Chuuya-san said his relationship with Akutagawa. What relationship? Of being enemies? They hated each other, don't they? Despite working together more than enough times now, Atsushi's pretty sure he still hates the other's guts and Akutagawa probably hates his more.
Yes, Atsushi cared enough to not want to see the other murdered in front of him. Especially when teaming against a common enemy. He trust him enough with his life, and with what he'd seen the other do, is quite certain the feeling's requited. He wanted Akutagawa to stop killing, to stop looking down on himself so much, to stop being so dependent on Dazai-san's praise. But isn't that just how a good person is supposed to think? He wants to be a good person. So it's normal right? Wanting him to be a good person and be happy is just basic human decency right? Right?
Along with the thought, he feels a foreign warmth blooming in the pit of his stomach, or is it his chest?
Atsushi shakes his head to rid himself of the gooey feeling. He'll pick that apart later. Now's not the time, and definitely not with Chuuya-san's knowing smirk directed at him.
A light pat on his shoulder diverts his attention from his internal turmoil.
"It's fine if you don't understand it now. But remember my words, ok kid?"
Atsushi merely blinks and nods slowly.
He tries to refocus on the earlier conversation before Akutagawa's name was brought up, yet what he remembered the Executive had said only manages to fluster him more.
Fighting the heat off his face, Atsushi asked the older a question, "Chuuya-san, uhm.. about what you said.. earlier.. you know.."
The Executive's knowing smirk turns downright amused as he raise an eyebrow at him.
"You mean the fact that the asshole and I are fu—
"YES! That! You don't need to say it again Chuuya-san!"
The corner of the older's lips twitches. Atsushi can feel his whole face burning ten times over.
He wipes his face and clears his throat. Schooling his face back to serious. He wants to see this conversation through, he wants an answer for the question that's been nagging his mind for the past few months.
His mentor was hurting. They were both hurting. He wants to know why, or if it can somehow be fixed. He doesn't like the thought of his mentor being sad. He doesn't like the thought of anybody being sad. The agency taught him to help people. But he needs to know the problem first.
"Doesn't that mean that he trust you?", he tries. Doesn't that means that they both care for each other? So why..?
Like Nakahara-san addressed earlier, Dazai-san named them shin soukoku, he didn't know why, but now he sees the resemblance. Even though, if he's being honest, Atsushi thought as if they dont even compare to the original soukoku.
Dazai-san and Nakahara-san's level of trust is definitely superior to them. And although they fight all the time and hate each other's guts, what Dazai-san and Nakahara-san have between them felt more.... intense. That's the only word Atsushi can think of to describe his superior's relationship after watching the dynamic between the two for the past few months. Now, after the bomb The Mafia Executive had dropped, the word only seem to fit more.
They can understand one another with a glance, yet they can't find mutual understanding. It's always about one upping one another, they never seem to find common ground. Their insults are barbed, aimed to tear at each other. They never work together over mutual agreement, instead, they give the other no choice but to play along.
Their banter felt childish and stupid—not that he and Akutagawa doesn't have their own fair share of childish banter so he kind of understand that part. But when they fought, once in the past few months they worked together, the whole room got tense, none of the agency or mafia members present dare to do a thing. Somehow, it felt personal.
That's the first and only time, he'd heard Dazai yell. That's the only time he saw Dazai looking furious.
His mentor wears a lot of mask. Even the whole office knows. Being able to smell emotion helps, but even he had a hard time discerning his mentor's true emotion. All he usually gets is a faint waft of a vague mood. He can tell when his mentor's proud of him; his amusement when bothering Kunikida-san or Chuuya-san; his suspicion at a shady client; his most common feeling of boredom, mostly those Dazai-san himself doesn't bother to really hide.
That is why the strong scent of his mentor's emotion regarding his ex-partner piqued his interest. He'd never smell anything as strong from his mentor who's so calculating and controlled he can control his own heartbeat.
His mentor, ever so careful, wears layers upon layers of masks that Atsushi can't help but wonder whether his mentor ever drop them at all. He wonder what happened, what he went through, to feel the need to hide behind them. He wonder, if his mentor ever gets tired.
"Isn't it exhausting?", he asked once.
His mentor, being his mentor, just smiled brightly at him and fake obliviousness. "Why, Atsushi-kun, so kind of you to notice. Kunikida worked me to the bone, ugh. I'm sooo tired I don't even feel like trying a new method of suicide today. Wanna help do my paperwork for me?". It was the usual annoying overly-cheerful way his mentor speaks. Yet there was the barest hint of coldness in his demeanor, Atsushi got the hint and never ask again.
Yet from what Atsushi observed, Nakahara-san is the only person who's able to gauge real emotions from his mentor. Sometimes, in rare moments that Atsushi accidentally caught, Dazai-san let his mask slips ever so slightly, maybe unconsciously, around his ex-partner.
Like that one time.
The situation had called for half baked plan with a fifty-fifty chance. The enemy had took them by surprise, by taking the whole city hostage. In the small window they had after discovering the fact, Dazai had split the team, spread thin as they were, by sending in shin soukoku to the enemy's base and have the rest deal with the bomb the enemy had spread all over the city.
It was supposed to be a sneak attack, but it was still dangerous. They were outnumbered ten to one and the enemies are all ability users they had no information of. He remembered how his mentor's hazel eyes had looked grim that day. The older detective didn't crack a lot of joke like he usually does, he's mostly silent, plotting, calculating the odds.
His mentor and Nakahara-san had came with them, but only Atsushi and Akutagawa were deployed inside. Upon coming up with the plan, he noticed his mentor and Nakahara-san kept exchanging glances, one that made uneasy feeling blooms in his stomach. It was uncertainty, but when have that ever stop Atsushi? They need to save the city. So he and Akutagawa followed his mentor's plan to a dot, too afraid of the consequences were they to fail.
When they came out sprinting out of the building mere seconds before it blew up, unscathed and victorious despite the odds, Dazai-san looked over to his ex-partner, locking eyes with one another. A look of utter disbelief etched on his face, a look that Atsushi never thought he'd see on his mentor. What surprised Atsushi the most though, was the burst of laughter following straight after that.
He had froze back then, dumfounded. They were laughing uncontrollably. It was loud, without restraint. It was full of relief and disbelief, but it was also carefree, happy. The closest to genuine happiness Atsushi had ever seen on his mentor. Dazai's grin was so wide the corner of his eyes crinkled. And.. oh, there's mirth dancing in his eyes, his usually blank and emotionless eyes.
So the fact that Dazai-san lets Chuuya-san to peel off his masks, to be willing to drop them around the other, even as fucked up as Chuuya-san made it sound, have to mean something.
He repeats his question from earlier with a more serious tone, having gotten rid of the blush.
He looks straight into a pair of cobalt, now a hint darker without orange highlights dyeing them into stark azure. From the height, Atsushi notices houses and buildings around them starting to turn on their lights, sprinkling the darkness of Yokohama with white pearlescent glow. A draft blew past them, the coldness of it reminding Atsushi of the time spent, the horizon now a deep dark blue that bleeds away to an even darker sky. The stars from earlier that evening was nowhere to be seen, outshined by the bright glimmer of Yokohama's citylight.
"Doesn't that mean that Dazai-san trust you?"
He doesn't explain his question further, pretty sure the older understand it for what it is.
He's expecting a contemplative silence like earlier that evening, of wary hesitance tinged with sadness, or even bitterness. Hell, even a derisive scoff, a barrage of insults or even denial wont be that far off from his prediction.
Yet, the executive merely shrug, and said in the most neutral and nonchalant tone, like commenting about the weather, like he doesn't care an ounce.
"I don't know what goes around his head anymore, you should ask the bastard".
Atsushi's mouth hangs open in disbelief over the anticlimactic reaction.
Don't you care?! Atsushi wants to scream. Rather then being closer to the answer he sought after, he feels himself spinning around in a merry go round. Going back and forth and going around in circles. Is this how it feels for them? Complicated, Chuuya-san had said.
The Executive picks up the box of cigarette that sat beside him—now seemingly half empty— and shoves it back into his coat pockets. He'd stopped smoking halfway through the conversation and Atsushi didn't even notice.
Seemingly oblivious, more likely ignoring, Atsushi's frustration, the older continue the conversation in a light nonchalant tone.
"You know kid, on the topic of trust, there's this one advice I'm going to spare you. So listen well."
Atsushi caught the older's gaze once again, dark cobalt hard and serious. His voice, when he speaks again is heavy, not its tone, but the weight of the words, like those senior citizens sharing their wisdom.
"Be careful where you place your trust."
The executive held his gaze. There's intensity in those deep blue orbs.
"Blind trust is foolishness. It's fucked up and can mess you up. So before trusting anyone, before trusting your life to someone, you should know why you trust someone."
Atsushi frowns. He somewhat understand that blind trust comes with risks. But sometimes, you just get this feeling that you can trust someone. Then, there's the fact that it came from someone who seems to have blind trust for his mentor. Or is it because of that?
"Why does it matter why we trust someone Chuuya-san?"
Instead of answering. The Executive stands and stretches. The fabric of his dark coat rippling with the movement. He must be as tired as the rest of the agency. Now that Atsushi considered the fact, the Executive's posture does seemed a bit weary. It was hidden before, somewhere in the peaceful atmosphere, the carefree laugh, and the knowing smirks.
The older puts his hands in his pockets and lays his gaze down below. The building they're standing upon is located atop a small hill. The vantage point gave them the view of Yokohoma's citylights. The ferris wheel by the docks towers over the small dots of lights surrounding it.
After some time, the older asks, "Do you trust Akutagawa?"
No longer surprised that Akutagawa's once again brought up into the conversation, Atsushi merely frowns and think about the question. Does he trust Akutagawa? The months since they met flew over his head, their first meeting, their joined missions right after, the promises they made to one another..
"I guess so..? When it comes to it..?"
"Why?"
Atsushi feels himself frown deeper.
Huh. Why does he trust Akutagawa? He ponders. Atsushi tries come up with something. Tries looking for any solid reason. Yet he fails miserably. He just does, yet he can't really explain why. The best he can come up with is calling it a gut feeling.
"Im not sure... a hunch?", He tries, deciding to be honest after some time of coming up with nothing.
The older's expression softens with sympathy. Something that he doesn't expect.
"Then find out."
It was an order. The Executive's tone leave no room for arguments. He shouldn't let anyone push him around like that, especially the enemy. He should feel suspicious. But Nakahara Chuuya, the Port Mafia Executive, the supposedly bad guy, the supposedly enemy, doesn't smell of hostility or bad intentions. The older smells of an odd mix of bitter regret and genuine concern. Concern for him.
Softer, almost hushed into the night, as if talking to oneself, the Executive adds, "Trust me kid, you'll be a little less likely to fuck things up if you know why exactly you can trust someone."
Atsushi appraise the older male, before nodding slightly. He then stands up to his feet, standing on the edge beside the Executive, gaze cast upon the citylights below, matching the other. Their backs paints a stark contrast against Yokohama night sky. One white and one black. One basking in the light, and the other thriving in the darkness. Just like His mentor and Chuuya-san. Soukoku. Just like himself and Akutagawa. Shin soukoku. The similarity, or yet, similarities, between the two partnership are uncanny.
Is that the reason Dazai-san named them after him and Chuuya-san? Or does Dazai-san designed his partnership with Akutagawa based on his partnership with Chuuya-san? A better version of them, one that doesn't break apart like his and Chuuya's. Is that the reason behind all those "bonding" his mentor forced on him and Akutagawa? Was that the reason of that smile back then?
He remembered a smile on his mentor's face from not so long ago.
It was after Atsushi's report of his side of the mission, where he explained in detail his joint effort with Akutagawa in taking down the enemy. How Akutagawa had trusted Rashoumon to him, trusting the success of the mission. Trusting him.
Dazai-san had smiled to himself back then, when the others' attention are solely on Atsushi. It was a private smile, one the older lets slip when he thought no one's looking.
He remembered, because it was a weird smile. His mentor's lips spread with joy and satisfaction of a proud mother. But there was this quirk at the edge of his smile, hidden in the slight grimace of his lips; bitter mockery, exasperated anger, a hint of jealousy. He looked torn between wanting to laugh or cry.
Atsushi remembered, because the unique scent of repressed longing and dull yet suffocating sadness he had associated with soukoku was coming off his mentor quite strongly that day.
It had been the one thing that attracted his attention to his mentor back then. Had the gloomy scent in the otherwise bright atmosphere not caught his attention, he would've missed the moment, for the anguish was wiped clean off his mentor's face not even a second later.
Bitter mockery, exasperated anger, a hint of jealousy.
Mockery, of his own broken partnership with Chuuya-san; anger at fate; jealousy over the fact that shin soukoku works out. Atsushi feels like he can understand it a bit now.
Dazai-san wants to fix what he couldn't back then. A new partnership, in place of a broken one. A stronger one. A better, functioning, healthier one. A new protector of Yokohama. It seems Chuuya-san shares the same sentiments.
The weight of the expectations placed upon him threatens to overwhelm him. There's also the fact that he still haven't figured out this tangled yarn of confusing feelings about Akutagawa yet. There's also the problem that Akutagawa and him still hates each other. They don't even work that well together. They can't even seem to finish one task without arguing over anything and everything.
One at a time, he tells himself.
He thought back on his mentor's intentions. Somehow, despite seeing it more clearly now, the question 'why' still lingers. If his mentor's looking for something to fix, why not mend his own partnership with Chuuya-san? If he still cares, if the both of them still do, why...?
"Do you trust Dazai-san?" Atsushi blurts out onto the cold night sky.
He glance at his side to check if his words were heard. A derisive smile spreads upon the Executive's lips and he clicks his tongue as he answers without a beat of hesitation.
"With my life, unfortunately."
It was uttered with an annoyed tone, but underneath it, resignation drench the older's words. The sad thing is, it doesn't sound bitter. Not at all. Rather, the acceptance in the older's voice is suffocating. Like he'd said his goodbyes a long time ago, and now all that was left were merely ghosts of the past, lingering feelings, a long lost memory of what could've been.
Atsushi feels sad for the man.
"Do you know why?", he ask, thinking of the advice the Executive gave him earlier.
Said Mafia Executive shakes his head lightly, the dangling chain on his hat clinks at the movement. The hint of any softness from earlier gone from his voice, as his tone returned to the clipped, cold voice of a Mafia Executive.
"No. I used to think I do till the bastard proved me wrong."
Atsushi contemplates the other's answer and his sudden change of tone before asking another question.
"Do you know why Dazai-san trust you?"
"Nope. Not anymore. Despite how you might've heard us boast about knowing each other in our banters, it's been four years. People change kid."
It was said lightly, matter of fact. But the scent of heartbreak drapes the older like an overcoat.
He's about to open his mouth to reply to that, when—
"Atsushi-kun, there you are!"
A loud boisterous voice interrupts the calm of the night.