Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Night blankets Yokohama like a shroud.

Its cold embrace is something that Atsushi is familiar with, leaving him accustomed to slipping through the shadows from such a young age.

Atsushi didn’t think about it often, the childhood he’d been robbed of, first by the orphanage’s headmaster (though he’d robbed him of something far worse, hadn’t he?) and again by Dazai Osamu, after he’d picked him up off the street as a scrawny, starving orphan.

Even being in the Port Mafia was better than dying on the streets.

And yet, here Atsushi was, wandering along the empty streets with no destination in mind, like a pet that had gotten out of the house and ended up lost within the big city.

It was silent tonight, something that he was grateful for. Silent meant no people were around. Silent meant less people to stare at him, judging him for the blood he’d spilled with his claws.

Silence also meant that he was lonely.

Usually, he’d be able to fill the silence by talking to Kyouka, but even he didn’t know where she’d gone. It was as if she’d disappeared without a trace, leaving Atsushi alone to fend for himself.

He missed having someone there to chase the nightmares away.

Thunder boomed overhead, and yet Atsushi forged on. A simple storm wouldn’t scare him. Not anymore.

He continued to walk, even as the sky opened above him and rain poured down from the heavens, soaking Atsushi to the bone, leaving him cold every time the wind chose to pick up.

Atsushi had endured far worse, both inside and out of the orphanage. He could handle a little rain.

“What are you doing out at this hour,” a familiar voice spoke.

Atsushi’s head whipped up, startled ametrine turning golden as he called on the tiger to help him see through the gloom.

Akutagawa Ryuunosuke stood a few feet away, a bag from the 24-hour convenience store in one hand and an open umbrella in the other. He was dressed in a simple black sweater and a pair of jeans, casual clothes that Atsushi was unused to seeing on him.

“I could say the same to you,” Atsushi countered, suddenly feeling a bit defensive. “Shouldn’t you be back at home and in bed?”

Akutagawa shrugged. “Shopping late at night is easier. Less people around.” His gaze found Atsushi’s. “Now, you answer my question.”

Atsushi stared blankly back at him. “I’m outside because I want to be.”

“Is that the only reason? Someone who wishes to be outside in weather like this would usually bring an umbrella with them.”

He shrugged. “I forgot it at home.”

Atsushi knew that Akutagawa didn’t buy the lie the minute it left his mouth. The detective’s eyes narrowed, lips pressing into a thin line as he regarded the former mafioso carefully.

“You don’t have anywhere else to go, do you?” Akutagawa asked finally. 

“So what if I don’t?” Atsushi retorted, hackles rising. “It doesn’t matter to me. I’ve been through much worse than just a little rain.”

“This is hardly ‘just a little rain,’” Akutagawa returned smoothly as lightning briefly illuminated the street. “You could catch your death in this weather. But, if you really want to stay out here, then be my guest. I can’t exactly force you to come with me.”

Atsushi watched as Akutagawa turned and began to walk, seemingly unbothered by the fact that the weretiger had refused to come with him.

He weighed his options. On the one hand, he’d be perfectly fine hunkering down in an alleyway, although he’d definitely be shivered and soaking wet the entire night. But on the other, Akutagawa had offered a nice and warm place to stay, most likely with a little bit of food to spare. His stomach growled, as if making up his mind for him.

“Wait,” Atsushi called, and Akutagawa turned, a light smirk on his face.

So the bastard had been expecting this.

“Yes, White Reaper?” he asked.

Atsushi frowned as he caught up with the detective. “Don’t call me that. Nakajima would work just fine.”

“Nakajima then,” Akutagawa agreed. “Apologies.”

No other words were spoken between them as they began to walk again, and Atsushi couldn’t tell if he was grateful or anxious now for the silence. He was hyperaware of the warmth radiating off the man next to him, how every so often their shoulders would brush from the close proximity they were forced to share under the umbrella. 

It made him antsy. He wasn’t used to being so close to someone like this.

“We’re here.” Akutagawa’s voice cut through his thoughts like a knife. He’d spoken gently as he jabbed his thumb at the building that housed the Agency’s dorms. “My room is on the second floor.”

Atsushi only nodded, exhaustion suddenly pulling at his eyelids. Had he been relying on the tiger’s stamina for so long that now even it was weary? He said nothing, even as Akutagawa closed the umbrella under the awning to take hold of his upper arm, practically dragging the weretiger up the steps and into the welcoming warmth of the apartment.

“Take off your coat,” Akutagawa instructed, and Atsushi froze. “You need to take a shower and change into something dry. I’ll lend you some of my clothes, and this is unlikely, but they may be a bit big on you.”

He didn’t want to take off his coat. He didn’t want to show off the collar that he wore; he wanted to keep it safe and hidden and out of sight because he doesn’t want anyone to know that he’s a monster-

But Akutagawa already knows that, doesn’t he? And he willingly let Atsushi into his home anyway.

Swallowing thickly, Atsushi undid his coat with shaky hands and allowed it to slide to the floor.

Akutagawa returned from wherever he’d gone with some clothes and a towel in his hands. “Here, I got you a towel as well.” The sentence tapered off into a whisper as he took in Atsushi’s thin frame. What had once been muscle hidden beneath the lean frame was now reduced to nothing more than a scrawny young man who had not seen a proper meal in weeks, only eating whatever he could scavenge from trashcans or snatch from the aisles of a convenience store. “...I’ll fix something to eat while you’re showering. Is there anything that you’d like?”

Atsushi blinked a couple times at the question, and though suspicion was rising, he was far too tired to care. The only thing he could think of now was a meal he’d made himself so many times in the orphanage before Dazai had picked him up. “Chazuke,” he said quietly.

“I’m sorry?”

“Chazuke,” Atsushi repeated, louder. “If you wouldn’t mind.”

Akutagawa’s eyebrows rose, one corner of his mouth twitching upward into an involuntary smile. “You look like you’re on death’s door, and the meal you ask for is as simple as chazuke.” He’s clearly amused. “Very well, then.”

Atsushi opens his mouth to say more, but Akutagawa shuts him up by using Rashomon to push him into the bathroom. “Shower,” he ordered before the door shut behind the weretiger.

It doesn’t take him long to clean up, mostly because he didn’t want to touch anything and break it, but when Atsushi finally emerges from the bathroom, there’s a small table set up in the middle of the room. Akutagawa’s seated at one end, drinking peacefully from a steaming mug, while on the other is a small bowl.

Atsushi can already smell the meal and his mouth is watering when he sits down, mumbling a quiet ‘thank you’ as he made to dig in.

Akutagawa let him get a few bites in before starting to speak. “Where have you been?” the detective asked, watching Atsushi carefully. “The new mafia boss said you’d disappeared after Dazai’s death, and no matter where we looked, we couldn’t find you in the city.”

“That’s because I left Yokohama,” Atsushi said, not meeting Akutagawa’s gaze. “I didn’t think there was any reason for me to stay in the city.”

“And yet, here you are,” Akutagawa responded evenly. “What convinced you to come back?”

“What convinced you to let me into your home?” Atsushi countered, glaring tiredly at the detective. “Surely you realize how foolish of an idea this could have been. For all you know, I could be planning to kill you right this second.”

“But you won’t.” There was a knowing glint in Akutagawa’s eye. Atsushi didn’t like it. “You won’t kill anyone anymore without a true reason, would you?”

“How would you know that?” Atsushi asked.

Akutagawa hummed, closing his eyes as he drained the last of the tea from his cup. “Call it a hunch.”

Atsushi shifted uncomfortably where he sat, but rather than voice his discomfort, he busied himself with another bite from the bowl in front of him. The detective’s perceptiveness set off alarm bells in the former mafioso’s head. It reminded him too much of Dazai-san.

His grip on the bowl tightened at the thought of the former Mafia Boss.

Atsushi was grateful for the Port Mafia; really, he was. They’d given him a home when he’d had none, clothes on his back, and food to eat. They’d even given him Kyouka, who was the closest he’d had to a little sister.

But really, the mafia was just trading one hell for another, wasn’t it?

It had been better than the orphanage, better than being kicked around and forced to drive a nail through your own foot, but that didn’t mean the Port Mafia was any more pleasant.

Atsushi shook his head, pushing the half-eaten bowl of chazuke away from him. “Thank you for the food,” he said, making to stand. “But I think it’s time for me to leave.”

“In this weather?” Akutagawa asked, his eyebrows furrowed. Thunder boomed outside as if to emphasize his question. “It’d be smarter for you to stay the night here and wait until the storm blows over.”

He was right. Atsushi knew that he was right. The tiger within him could regenerate a severed limb, no problem, but something like a cold was something that it refused to touch. If he went back out there, he’d definitely end up sick and stranded somewhere until he recovered.

So, despite the fact that his instincts screamed at him to leave, Atsushi allowed himself to sink back down where he’d been sitting.

Akutagawa smiled at this as if his life was somehow made better by the fact that someone like Atsushi was sticking around, and he leaned forward, nudging at the bowl with his hand as if trying to entice the younger man into finishing the meal.

Atsushi shook his head. “I’m not hungry anymore,” he said, turning away from the chazuke. That much, at least, was true.

“I’ll save it, then,” Akutagawa hummed, picking up the bowl and standing. “That way, if you’re hungry in the middle of the night, you can eat it then. If not, then you can take it with you in the morning.”

Atsushi watched him as he disappeared into the kitchen, eyebrows furrowed.

Why was he being so nice? Akutagawa had every reason to hate him, and yet, not once had he raised his voice or threatened Atsushi in some manner. Surely, he didn’t deserve this, right?

He must be looking for information, the weretiger reasoned with himself, lowering his gaze to the table again. Akutagawa must think he has some information on Gin’s whereabouts, somehow. But he had no idea, and the moment that information came to light, Atsushi would be tossed away.

And for reasons that Atsushi couldn’t understand, the thought hurt.

“Nakajima?”

Akutagawa’s voice startled Atsushi out of his musing, and he looked up.

The detective stood over him, a thick blanket folded over his arm. “Are you feeling alright?”

“Fine,” Atsushi answered quickly, turning his head away.

Akutagawa hummed as if he wasn’t convinced, but thankfully he chose not to press the matter. “Unfortunately I don’t really have a spare futon to lend you,” he said, actually sounding regretful as he held the blanket he was carrying out to Atsushi. “The loveseat may be uncomfortable, but it’ll be better than sleeping on the floor.”

“I’ve slept on worse,” Atsushi responded, reaching out to take the blanket, letting it pool in his lap as he brushed his thumb over the fabric. It was soft, likely thick enough to keep Atsushi as warm as the tiger’s fur did. The soft growling in the back of his mind grew ever louder, but he ignored it, instead focusing on the sting of the collar’s spikes as he turned his head to gaze at the loveseat.

It was a small, battered thing, looking right at home in the disheveled apartment that Akutagawa called his home. He’d likely gotten it second-hand from somewhere. He’d heard of how abysmal the Agency’s pay was. “You didn’t need to do this,” Atsushi said, glancing up at Akutagawa, giving him one last chance to come to his senses and back out of this arrangement and kick him back out on the street.

But Akutagawa held firm. “I’m aware,” he returned, turning his back on Atsushi to grab a spare pillow from the closet. “But I’m doing it anyway. Everyone deserves to have a warm space to sleep, even if only for a night.”

Everyone? Even monsters?

The headmaster’s voice echoed tauntingly in his mind where Dazai’s usually filled the space, and Atsushi couldn’t help the grimace that stole across his face at the sound.

“Thank you,” Atsushi said eventually, avoiding Akutagawa’s eyes once more as he stood, dragging the blanket over to the loveseat once he’d accepted the pillow from the detective.

He can feel Akutagawa’s eyes following him, his gaze burning into the back of Atsushi’s head, but he ignores it in favor of plopping the pillow down onto the loveseat and curling up on his side beneath the blanket, his back stubbornly turned toward the man he had once called his enemy despite the way his instincts screamed at him to remain alert.

Sleep did not come to him, not even after Akutagawa had turned out the light and dozed off in his futon in the corner of the room.

Atsushi’s thoughts were far too loud for that.

Worthless, the headmaster whispered. You’re so pathetic that you had to be scooped off the street like a waterlogged kitten.

Atsushi couldn’t help but agree with the disembodied voice of the headmaster, staring up at the ceiling in the dark.

Chapter Text

When Akutagawa opened his eyes the next morning, the apartment was empty.

Not that he expected anything different, not with the dubious look Atsushi had given him when he doubled down on letting him stay.

He felt bad for him.

Akutagawa knew that, comparatively, he’d had it better than Atsushi had in some ways. He had no way of knowing what had happened with the weretiger before he’d been taken in by the man in black, but those dull and empty eyes told the detective of the unspeakable horrors he had borne witness to from such a young age.

Akutagawa glanced into the kitchen, noting that Atsushi had taken the time to carefully fold both the blanket and the clothes he’d been lent before disappearing through the front door without so much as a goodbye.

For some reason, the sight made his chest feel heavy. Releasing a sigh, Akutagawa forced himself to climb out of his futon and roll it up to put it away. He had no time to dwell on it now; Kunikida would have his head if he were late.

~~~~

Much to Akutagawa’s surprise, it wasn’t long before he ran into the weretiger again.

A few weeks had passed since Akutagawa had invited the former White Reaper into his home, and had decided to stop by the library to check and see if any of the books he’d reserved came in when he found him tucked away at a corner table, eyebrows furrowed as he stared down at a rather large book. A textbook, Akutagawa realized as he drew closer.

“Nakajima?”

Akutagawa winced at the way Atsushi jumped in his seat, banging his knees against the underside of the table. “Ah, fuck-!”

The librarian at the desk Akutagawa had passed shushed the pair, glaring heavily at them over her glasses before returning to whatever she’d been doing at her computer.

“Are you okay?” Akutagawa whispered, sliding into the seat across from Atsushi.

“Never better,” the weretiger hissed through clenched teeth, fixing Akutagawa with his own glare before he huffed and returned his attention to his textbook. “What do you want now?”

“I just wanted to know what you were doing,” Akutagawa confessed, craning his neck as he attempted to read the text on the page upside down.

“Studying, what does it look like?”

“I wasn’t aware you were attending any classes,” Akutagawa remarked, eyebrows rising in surprise.

“That’s because I’m not.” Atsushi’s tone was guarded, though not necessarily hostile. “But if I want to find work in this god-forsaken city, I need to have some form of education.”

After a moment of silence, all Akutagawa can offer in response is an awkward “oh.” 

The urge to invite Atsushi to join the Armed Detective Agency strikes Akutagawa like lightning, but after a  moment’s consideration, he decides to keep his mouth shut. Atsushi looks skittish, what with the way his gaze darts up to the detective’s face every so often as if trying to make sure he hadn’t moved.

“Are you hungry?” he asked instead, and Atsushi’s head shot up to stare at him in what looked to be surprise or shock.

“Wh-What?”

“I asked if you were hungry,” Akutagawa repeated. “I have no clue how long you’ve been here, but judging from how deep you are in that textbook, I’d assumed you haven’t eaten yet since they don’t allow food or drink in the library.”

Atsushi lifted his head, mouth open to spit out a retort, but before he could say anything, his stomach betrayed him with a growl. His face flushed with embarrassment, and he scowled, looking away. “I don’t have the money for it.”

“What of the money you earned from the Mafia?” asked the detective, looking confused.

“I don’t have any of it anymore,” he answered simply. “I donated it.”

“And kept none for yourself?”

Atsushi doesn’t answer, pointedly avoiding Akutagawa’s gaze.

After a few moments of silence, Akutagawa sighed, pushing himself up to stand. “Come on,” he said decisively. “I’ll treat you to lunch. Just go easy on me; I don’t get paid the way you used to.”

Atsushi’s head snapped back to stare at Akutagawa, a mix of anger and some other emotion that Akutagawa couldn’t identify swirling in his eyes. “...I don’t need any pity,” the weretiger finally responded, his voice clipped as he returned his attention to the textbook before him.

“This isn’t pity,” Akutagawa insisted. “You look as if you’re ready to pass out.”

Atsushi’s scowl didn’t lessen, the distrust clear in his gaze as he continued to stare before ultimately admitting his defeat. “Fine,” he grumbled, slamming his textbook shut and ignoring the annoyed shushing from the librarian again. “Where are we going?”

Akutagawa allowed himself a small smile, the acceptance, though reluctant, making him feel warm inside. “We could go to Cafe Uzumaki,” he said, standing beside the table as he waited for the weretiger to gather his things. “I figured neutral ground would be nice. Some place we’re both familiar with, so we don’t need to be on edge.”

“Since when is ‘neutral ground’ the cafe below your stupid Agency?” Atsushi retorted, keeping his voice low as he returned the textbook to its shelf.

“It’s neutral ground,” Akutagawa explained once Atsushi had returned to his side, “because it’s the place we first met and one that I’m sure you and I both frequent.”

“That doesn’t mean a thing,” the weretiger grumbled but didn’t try and argue further as Akutagawa led him from the library.

“I’d beg to differ,” Akutagawa responded, burying his hands in the pockets of his coat.

“Then beg,” Atsushi hissed.

Luckily, Akutagawa was able to suppress the laugh before it left his mouth. He cleared his throat instead, allowing himself to regain his composure before speaking again.

“Perhaps at a later date,” Akutagawa returned, not bothering to look and see what sort of expression the former White Reaper was making now.

The walk to the cafe was relatively short since the library was not far from the complex in the first place, much to Akutagawa’s relief. Less time out in the open meant less awkward silence between the two.

The detective took the initiative to hold the door open for his companion, pretending not to notice the glare Atsushi gave him as he walked past him and into Cafe Uzumaki’s cozy interior.

“It’s a pleasure to see you today, Akutagawa-san,” greeted the cafe’s owner from where he stood behind the bar. He smiled kindly, gesturing toward the empty booths with his hand. “Please, take a seat. Is there anything I can get for you?”

“Black tea and coffee for him,” Akutagawa answered. “Thank you.”

Atsushi took the lead in sitting down in the booth, Akutagawa following suit and settling into the seat across from him.

“So,” Akutagawa began once he made himself comfortable. “What sort of work are you looking for?”

Atsushi sneered at the question. “What does it matter to you?”

“If I know, I could possibly help you find something,” Akutagawa answered calmly. “You could even use me as a reference if you so wished. It can be hard to find a proper job without a reference. I’m sure I could persuade the Agency to help as well.”

The weretiger snorted. “The rest of the Agency? Help me? Please.” He shook his head. “They aren’t as gullible as you. How do you think they’d react if they learned you were trying to help someone who has tried to kill you twice now?”

Akutagawa hummed. “Now, I don’t think I’d say I’m gullible. Foolish, perhaps, but not gullible.”

“And I’d say you are,” Atsushi retorted. “After all, you’re the one who’s let their guard down thrice now while in the presence of a former dog of the Mafia.”

“Don’t you think you would have harmed me by now if you wanted me dead?” Akutagawa hummed, stirring sugar into his tea absentmindedly. “The more time you spend with me would only land you as a suspect.”

“I’d hardly say I’m spending time with you of my own free will,” the former mafioso huffed, scowling at his tablemate.

Akutagawa raised an eyebrow. “I do sincerely apologize,” he drawled sarcastically. “I seem to have missed the part where I held you at gunpoint and forced you to accompany me to lunch.”

“You wouldn’t have left me alone until I agreed,” Atsushi shot back, although he dropped his gaze to the cup of coffee he’d been given instead, glaring at it as if it had personally wronged him.

Akutagawa supposed he could concede to that point. Oda and Kunikida had both told him that he was nothing if not stubborn. He wouldn’t doubt that he’d keep trying until he finally got Atsushi to agree. He said nothing, only closing his eyes and taking a mouthful of his tea.

“Could I get you boys anything to eat?” the owner asked, still smiling kindly.

“Curry for me,” Akutagawa said. “And for him as well. You may want to tone down the spice, however. I’m unsure of his tolerance.”

“My tolerance?” Atsushi asked, his eyebrows furrowed. “You think I can’t handle a bit of heat?”

Akutagawa laughed softly. “My perception of spice is different than yours, having had Oda as a mentor. It’s a wonder that his taste buds haven’t burnt off yet. I suggested that for your own benefit, Jinko.”

“ Jinko?” Atsushi pulled a face at the nickname. “Where’d you come up with that?”

Akutagawa gestured at him across the table. “You turn into a tiger, do you not? I thought weretiger would make a fitting nickname. Certainly better than White Reaper, in any case.”

The scowl that had returned to Atsushi’s face dropped, his eyes widening at the use of his old moniker.

Anxiety lanced through Akutagawa’s chest, and he straightened. “If it bothers you, then I will not-”

“It doesn’t,” Atsushi blurted out, perhaps a bit too quickly, seeing as he managed to startle both himself and the detective sitting across the table. “I-It doesn’t bother me,” he tried again. “I… actually like it. You’re right. It’s better than…”

As Atsushi trailed off, staring down at his coffee cup again, Akutagawa allowed himself a slight smile, one that he hid in his tea. “Very well.”

The curry arrived not long after, steaming and warm and smelling absolutely divine.

One glance at Atsushi told the detective that he shared the same sentiment, what with the way his eyes glistened at the sight of the meal.

He was the first to dig in, practically going limp in his seat at the first taste of what was undoubtedly the first full meal he’d had in a while. Akutagawa watched, amused, as Atsushi demolished about half of his plate before he froze, remembering that he had company with him.

“It’s, uh,” Atsushi stammered, reaching for a napkin sheepishly and wiping at his mouth. “It’s really good.” His face was aflame with embarrassment, and if Akutagawa had less common sense, he’d have thought the sight was cute.

“I’m glad to hear that,” Akutagawa hummed, taking the opportunity to take a bite of his own plate of curry. The familiar heat spread across his tongue, and he closed his eyes to savor it.

They finished their meal in silence, for once comfortable instead of strained. “Thank you,” Atsushi said as Akutagawa stacked their empty plates together. “For the meal.”

He’s still tense when Akutagawa looks up at him again, but he’s by far more relaxed than he had been when they’d walked into the building in the first place. “It was my pleasure,” Akutagawa replied earnestly. “I wish you luck with finding some work in the city. Don’t forget that I’m willing to help with references if you need them.”

Atsushi’s face flushed that light shade of pink again, quickly avoiding Akutagawa’s eyes with a slight scowl. “...I’ll keep that in mind,” he huffed before standing up and gathering what little things he’d brought with him. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get back to studying.”

As the weretiger exited the cafe, Akutagawa caught him glancing at the owner where he stood behind the bar, wiping the surface down idly. His eyes gleamed thoughtfully before he pushed the door open and disappeared into the busy city streets.

“He’s a good kid,” the old man remarked when Akutagawa stood, reaching for his wallet to pay the bill. “He reminds me of you, in a way.”

“Does he?” Akutagawa asked, pausing in his motion to look curiously at the owner.

“Of course,” was the reply. The owner moved to take the money he was handed. “Perhaps a little misguided, but he seems to have a good head on his shoulders. It’s good that you’re watching out for him.”

Now it was Akutagawa’s turn to blush, but for some reason, the cafe owner’s words made his heart feel as if it were soaring. “Well, someone has to,” Akutagawa said, turning away so he didn’t have to look the cafe owner in the eye. “Otherwise, he’d probably end up starving to death on the street.”

He didn’t let himself smile until he’d left the cafe, and if  he returned to the office with a newfound spring in his step, it was nobody’s business except his own.