Chapter Text
“We need to talk.” Atsushi grabbed Akutagawa by the wrist and began dragging him off towards a nearby alley. The young detective had never felt so angry in his 18 years of living. He wasn’t one to get angry very often, mind you, but that wasn’t the point here. The point was that he and Akutagawa had well and truly teamed up for the first time, completely trusted each other, and it led to Akutagawa sacrificing himself for Atsushi. Atsushi had watched him die. It’s not like they were friends, or even on good terms, really, but Akutagawa had shown up precisely when Atsushi needed him. When he mentally begged someone to stay by his side, so he didn’t have to face Fukuchi alone. And where did that get his partner? With his throat slashed by Fukuchi’s sword.
Atsushi was so tired of causing others to suffer. He was tired of his existence bring everyone else misfortune. As he rode that boat back to shore, all he could think about was how even someone as strong and powerful as Akutagawa ended up suffering because he had put his trust in Atsushi. He had screamed and cried the entire boat ride back, cursing himself for daring to ask for another person’s trust. He should know by now that all he ever did was hurt people.
He was sure Akutagawa was dead. So, needless to say, everything that went down at the airport was quite a shock to the poor boy. He didn’t even have time to process Akutagawa’s momentary stint in vampirism, because they were soon fighting against another powerful enemy, just the two of them, once again. It had now been a week since everything had finally ended, since the Decay of Angels was finally defeated, and Atsushi hadn’t seen or heard from Akutagawa once. That is, until Atsushi saw him casually walking down the street, as if nothing had happened. So, yeah. Atsushi was more than a little pissed off. He wasn’t entirely sure what he was mad about, specifically, but there was no mistaking the burning sensation he felt in his chest the moment he locked eyes with the man who had literally died for him.
“Hello to you, too, Jinko,” Akutagawa muttered, not putting up a fight as Atsushi pulled him away from the main street.
Atsushi stopped walking and whirled around to glare at Akutagawa. “Are you fucking kidding me??” He shrieked. They were far enough into the alley that passersby on the main street didn’t pay them any mind, despite Atsushi’s yelling. Akutagawa just responded with a blank stare. “Where the hell have you been??” He continued, feeling the rage building inside his body. “I haven’t even seen you since the airport, y’know, after we fought for our lives, before which, you ripped off my limbs and bit me, not to mention, you turned into a damn vampire in the first place because you- you-” Suddenly, the angry tirade caught in Atsushi’s throat, and he could no longer speak. Much to his dismay, he realized that the lump in his throat was not caused by the last bit of his rant that he failed to get out, but by the fact that he was now sobbing like a damn child. He sunk down to his knees, not caring about the mysterious fluids coating the alley that were now soaking into his pantlegs. He felt incredibly weak, as if an entire lifetime of tension and worry just left his body; he was positive that he couldn’t stand up now, even if his life depended on it. Which, it may, given that Akutagawa was highly unlikely to tolerate his waterworks after being dragged down a gross alley and getting yelled at. He just closed his eyes and waited for whatever retribution Akutagawa saw fit.
That retribution never came, however. Instead, Atsushi heard the familiar sound of a light cough, followed by, “Get off the ground, Jinko. It’s disgusting.” When Atsushi made no move to get up – he felt glued to the ground, at this point – he felt something wrap around his waist and hoist him upwards. He let out a small sound, somewhere between a gasp and a choke, as Rashoumon dangled him rather unceremoniously above the filthy alley. He dared to glance at Akutagawa, and he was met with an expression he had never seen on the perpetually angry man’s face. It was a look of pure shock and bewilderment.
“Sorry,” Atsushi mumbled sheepishly, “My legs kinda just… gave out. I’m sorry. Just- Just put me back down, forget it, we can talk some other time. Sorry.” Despite his best efforts, there were still tears streaming steadily down his cheeks, and he was absolutely mortified to be acting like this in front of Akutagawa. He hung there limply in the air, wishing Rashoumon would just swallow him whole at this point. Rather than put him down, the mafioso just stared for a moment longer with that same, bewildered expression, before scoffing and using Rashoumon to send them both hurtling towards the nearest rooftop. Great, Atsushi thought to himself, I broke Akutagawa. He’s going to kill us both. Rather than meeting a shared untimely demise – Dazai would surely be jealous – they bounded from rooftop to rooftop, with Atsushi swinging around quite aggressively from the single anchor point still wrapped around his waist. Pretty quickly, they reached a rather tall apartment building with a beautiful rooftop garden.
“Can you walk?” Akutagawa asked, lowering Atsushi down just enough that his feet were hovering right above the floor.
“Uhm, yeah, I think so,” he quietly replied. He stumbled slightly as Rashoumon unwound from his midsection, but he was more or less steady on his feet now. The flight across town had really slapped his senses back into him, and he was no longer crying. “Where are we?” he pondered aloud, slowly turning to take in the scenery around him. It was a beautiful garden, a community garden for the residents of this building, he surmised. There were strikingly colourful flowers of all shapes and sizes, a wide variety of fruits and vegetables, and even a little greenhouse in the center of it all.
Rather than answer his question, Akutagawa just walked towards the door that presumably led to the interior of the building. “Follow me,” he commanded, swiping a key card on the electronic lock beside the door. Atsushi trailed behind him, still busy appreciating the beauty around him. There was a small garden at the agency dorms, upkept by Kenji, but the young farmer boy only liked to grow practical plants, like corn, potatoes, and beans. The smell of the flowers that surrounded Atsushi now were almost overwhelming, preventing him from thinking straight. It wasn’t until he was halfway down the staircase, with Akutagawa trudging along in front of him, that he realized they were now inside this apartment building.
“Do you live here?” Atsushi questioned, shrinking back slightly as he worried that asking such a question might lead to a moderately deep stab wound from Rashoumon.
“No, I just collect random key cards and find out what they unlock for fun,” Akutagawa deadpanned.
Atsushi’s mouth involuntarily dropped open. “Was that sarcasm?”
“Obviously.”
“Wow, I didn’t know you knew what that was.”
Akutagawa stopped and turned around, glaring at Atsushi. “Tch.” The detective shifted into a defensive stance, readying himself for the tendril of Rashoumon that would inevitably be on its way toward him in a second. Instead, Akutagawa just opened the door that stood in front of them – when did that get there? – and headed inside. Atsushi stood dumbly in the hallway for a moment, before hearing from beyond the door a gruff “What are you waiting for, Jinko? Are you coming in or not?” He scrambled inside, shutting the door gently behind himself. He removed his shoes in the genkan, setting them down next to his host’s, and nervously wrung his hands together as he slowly made his way into the apartment.
He was once again stopped dead in his tracks, this time to take in the apartment he found himself in. It was elegantly and tastefully furnished, each piece of furniture looking like it cost more than his monthly paycheque. There were several giant bookshelves lining the walls in the living area, with very little space remaining for new books to be added. A few pieces of artwork hung on the walls, complimenting the overall aesthetic. Atsushi couldn’t help but think that it was all very on brand for his gloomy partner. It’s not that the décor was devoid of colour, necessarily, but the room had a rather dark tone to it. Even the walls were painted a very dark shade of red, much unlike the off-white that coated the walls of his and Kyouka’s shared dorm.
His thoughts were interrupted by Akutagawa emerging from a hallway to the left of the living area. “Change into these,” he ordered, thrusting a pair of sweatpants into Atsushi’s hands. “I’ll not have you dirtying my furniture with your…” he grimaced, “alley pants.” Atsushi felt his face burning with embarrassment. “The bathroom is down the hall to the left.”
“Thanks,” he all but squeaked, and quickly shuffled off to where he had been directed. Once inside the bathroom with the door locked, Atsushi leaned against the wall and sighed. What the hell is happening right now?? Am I seriously in Akutagawa’s apartment?? Is this the end? Did he finally lose his patience and decide to kill me today? But then why give me pants to change into if he’s just gonna get my blood all over whatever I’m wearing anyway? WAIT. Are these HIS pants?? What the fuck??? He could feel himself spiralling, so he took a few deep breaths and tried his best to calm down. It’s fine. I’m fine. Everything’s fine. I’m gonna just put on these pants and go out there, prepared for whatever is going to happen. It hasn’t been six months yet, but I really can’t blame him for getting fed up with me and wanting to kill me now. …Can I even fight him properly, though? I mean, he saved my life. Not because he wanted to, I’m sure, but- SLAP! Atsushi felt his cheeks sting slightly as he pulled his hands away from them. “Stop it,” he whispered to himself. “Don’t jump to conclusions.”
By the time he had finished getting changed and somewhat getting his anxiety in check, he re-entered the living area to find Akutagawa seated on the couch, a cup of tea in hand. “Sit.” He gestured to the other end of the couch, in front of which sat another cup of tea. Atsushi awkwardly sat down, dirty pants in-hand, warily eyeing the tea in front of him. “Relax, Jinko. It’s not poisoned. That would be the most boring way to kill you.” The detective considered this for a moment before picking up the tea and taking a sip. It’s most likely true that his partner would rather use a more violent and flashy method of murder. “Give me those,” Akutagawa stated as he gestured toward the pants that were still clutched in one of Atsushi’s hands.
“H-huh?”
The mafioso sighed. “Your pants, stupid Jinko. Give them to me. I’ll throw them in the wash.”
“OH, n-no, it’s okay, y-you really don’t have to do that! I can just wash them when I get home, really!”
His protests were met by an unimpressed glare and a grabbing motion in the direction of the pants he was holding. Atsushi slowly handed over the pants, his brain short-circuiting as he watched Akutagawa snatch them away and disappear down the hallway without another word.
What in the actual fuck is going on???