Chapter Text
"Kenji. Here."
Akutagawa observed the situation with the diligence it required. That was to say, not much at all. Kenji was more than capable of handling Nakajima Atsushi. Still, a strange feeling in Akutagawa's chest led him to keep watch over the situation, even as Oda sat with him to "help him focus."
Atsushi was delivering papers to the detective, holding them out to be taken. His eyes were staring into the space just in front of his nose, and his expression was inscrutable to Akutagawa.
"Thanks, Atsushi!" Kenji smiled as he finished a sentence in his report, and then looked up to take the papers. When he did, though, Akutagawa saw his expression fall into concern, and he froze. What did the damn weretiger do? He was just standing there.
His face remaining blank, Atsushi blinked. "Is something the matter?"
The frown on his face widening, Kenji hummed. "You're feeling stressed, aren't you?"
"I don't get stressed," Atsushi said without pause.
"Don't be silly!" Kenji laughed. "I have something that could help you."
After considering it for a few moments, Atsushi asked, "what is it?"
"Here!" Kenji opened up a desk drawer, revealing three neat rows of pots full of dirt and sprouting seedlings. Akutagawa rose a little out of his seat to get a better look, but Oda pulled on his sleeve and tsked for his attention.
Rolling his eyes as he returned to the report, Akutagawa listened as Kenji excitedly explained that he'd been germinating flower seeds in the office since he wanted to be able to check in on them during the day. "Plus, it's good to have something green where you work!"
"What do I do with it?" Atsushi asked, unsure.
Akutagawa smiled as Kenji launched into a barrage of care instructions, both comforted by the familiarity and sure that hadn't been what Atsushi meant.
Sure enough, after waiting patiently for Kenji to finish, Atsushi cleared his throat. "I mean… why would I put it on my desk? Does it just sit there? When can I eat it?"
"Oh! No, don't eat these! They're poisonous!"
"So I have to make it into a poison?"
Atsushi sounded confused, so Akutagawa turned around in his chair to explain what flowers were. Unfortunately, Oda was sitting next to him and planted a hand on Akutagawa's head and physically turned it back towards his report. "You should let Atsushi have his own conversations," he whispered.
"He needs me," Akutagawa insisted in the same quiet tone.
Oda just raised an eyebrow. Akutagawa sighed and got back to work.
That night, Akutagawa watched as Atsushi put away dishes. He sat with his hands folded in his lap as Atsushi reached up, noticing that the turtleneck he'd changed into for dinner had come slightly untucked and was riding up his hip as Atsushi reached for the very top shelf. Akutagawa considered telling Atsushi to fix it, but decided that he had more important things to ask. "Kenji decided you're stressed."
Immediately, Atsushi froze and there was a clattering. Then, where his body had tensed it relaxed, and he drew his arms back to his sides and faced Akutagawa. "You can't just scare me like that," Atsushi said with a slight pout.
"I was making conversation."
"You usually just sit there and stare at me silently," Atsushi said, frowning. "Which, by the way, is weird."
Tilting his head, Akutagawa asked, "I'm not helping you. This is how we split chores."
"No, the weird part is that you stare at me while I do my chores."
"What else am I supposed to do?"
"Play on your phone?"
"I don't 'play,'" Akutagawa said, rolling his eyes. "And I said Kenji decided you were stressed."
At that, Atsushi broke eye contact, looking away. "He just wanted an excuse to give me a plant." He really was a bad liar.
"What are you stressed about?"
"I'm stressed about you staring at me," Atsushi bit. He went back to putting dinner's cups away, avoiding the situation.
Okay. Fine. Akutagawa closed his eyes. "Is this better?"
"What are you- Oh. No, that's worse, I think."
"Then I'll stare," Akutagawa countered. He opened his eyes.
More skin was showing on Atsushi's hip. Even though he had already asked his question, he didn't mention it.
"Oh."
Akutagawa had barely put down his bags when Atsushi's small voice spoke up. Akutagawa, curious, strolled over to where Atsushi was. He followed the weretiger's gaze and found that he was looking at the seedling Kenji had given him yesterday.
"Look," Atsushi said, pointing. "It's grown."
Akutagawa didn't see the difference. "Has it?"
Atsushi, without looking away from the small pot, lowered himself into his desk chair, and then leant forwards on his elbows to get a better look. "Yeah."
"I mean," Akutagawa said, a little confused at Atsushi's fascination, "plants do that. They grow."
"I know," Atsushi hummed. "We had a field of crops at the orphanage."
Quirking a frown, Akutagawa looked over Atsushi. He didn't seem distressed by the mention of the orphanage like he usually was whenever he brought it up. There was just full amazement at the tiny seedling.
"I was never allowed out near the fields," Atsushi murmured, leaning a little bit closer. His nose was almost touching the pot. "But I have my own plant now."
"Congratulations?" Akutagawa was genuinely confused by the look on the weretiger's face.
In response, Atsushi finally turned away from the little plant. Akutagawa felt the fascination turn onto him in an overwhelming rush. Then, just barely, Atsushi smiled. "Thanks." They held eye contact for a few seconds before Atsushi looked at the paperwork stacked on his desk.
The moment was broken.
Unsure of what else to do, Akutagawa walked away.
The feeling of being looked at by Atsushi didn't go away. Even after the moment broke, it lived on in Akutagawa's mind as if Atsushi had never turned his attention.
He considered pushing the feeling aside, but then he considered not doing that. He liked the latter better. It wasn't busy at the office, anyways.
Akutagawa briefly wondered if this was how Atsushi felt when Akutagawa stared at him putting away the dishes. He also wondered, if yes, whether Atsushi pushed aside the feeling.
He stared at Atsushi, who was staring at his plant.
Hm.
"Kenji?"
Akutagawa looked up. It wasn't often that Atsushi broke the silence of the ADA, and usually it was done politely, but now Atsushi's voice was more demanding. The entire ADA, including Akutagawa, stopped what they were doing at the interruption.
As he had been the entire day, Atsushi was staring at the seedling Kenji had gifted him. "Kenji, I think something's wrong with my plant."
Wordlessly, Kenji got up and ran over to Atsushi's desk, bending at the waist to get a look at the little plant. "Oh! it just needs water!"
"How much do I give it?" There was a twang of something Akutagawa easily recognized in Atsushi's voice: anxiety. "Is tap water okay? Kyouka said she could taste the difference between that and spring water, can the seedlings?"
That was weird. Akutagawa narrowed his eyes at the mention of Kyouka. Usually Atsushi never brought her up. And he was never so calm about it.
A thought came to Akutagawa. Was this plant helping him that much? That painful memories were no longer hurting?
Without listening to Atsushi and Kenji talk, Akutagawa slid out of his chair, pushing it in with Rashomon. When Kunikida looked up at him, Akutagawa just muttered "I'll be back later."
"I need one plant."
"Um," the cashier said, "You've come to the right place?" She waved her hand around at all of the plants in the shop. In the plant shop. "We have a very large selection."
"I need one," Akutagawa repeated. "Not all of them."
Giving a small laugh, the cashier nodded. "Which one would you like?"
Blinking, Akutagawa put his hands on the counter. "A plant."
The smile turned strained, but Akutagawa didn't care. He just needed a plant. "Tell you what," the cashier said, "I'll find you a golden pothos."
"Is that a plant?"
"Yes."
"Then that is acceptable."
Akutagawa sat with his hands folded on his lap, staring at the door and waiting for Atsushi to get home. On the table in front of him was the plant he’d bought, vibrant green and full of yellow specks that Akutagawa had initially thought were signs of illness, but the cashier explained was something called 'variegation.'
After some quiet deliberation on the walk home, Akutagawa had decided he thought it reminded him of Atsushi's eyes.
It took longer than Akutagawa expected for Atsushi to arrive, and when he did he was breathing a little heavily, like he'd been running an extended distance. He looked angry, ready to shout, but froze when he took in the scene before him.
"Hey," Atsushi asked, closing the door behind him without looking at it. "What's that?"
"It's not sick." Akutagawa watched as Atsushi's gaze flickered between Akutagawa and the plant, but it just wasn't what Akutagawa was looking for. “It’s a plant. It’s bigger than the one Kenji gave you.”
Frowning, Atsushi started walking forward. “I can see that, Akutagawa.” He picked up the pot and weighed it in his hands, bouncing it slightly. He had a curiosity on his face that slowly turned to pure wonder. There. That was what Akutagawa was looking for. “I’ve never seen something like this before. Or if I have, I never really noticed it.”
Still sitting where he had been, Akutagawa cleared his throat. He didn’t want to break the moment, but he wanted Atsushi’s eyes on himself. “It’s called a golden pothos,” Akutagawa explained.
Atsushi held the plant up to eye level, studying it closely. “‘Golden,’ huh? Is it called that because it’s all yellow?”
“It’s not sick,” Akutagawa stressed.
“You’ve said.” Finally, Atsushi looked past the pothos and zeroed in on Akutagawa, all curiosity and unfamiliarity. It was like he was trying to piece Akutagawa together. “You’ve… never gotten something for me before.”
This was Akutagawa’s opportunity. He just had to say the right thing. “You’ve never displayed such interest in something before.”
Blankness came over Atsushi’s face, and then a small smile. All for Akutagawa. It was a minor thing, but before Akutagawa it bloomed into something that enveloped his whole world. He tried to take it in, to absorb it, to savor the moment. This was exactly what he had wanted, Atsushi's attentions on him, intense despite being the weretiger's usual lukewarm in terms of emotionality.
But then Atsushi seemed to remember something, his shoulders dropping. “Oh, yeah. The Agency is looking for you.”
Akutagawa thought about it for a second, and then checked his phone.
27 missed calls, 73 unread messages.
Ah.
Along with the two tote bags of snacks and lunch Atsushi typically brought to the office, Atsushi proudly carried the pothos Akutagawa had bought him. A few strangers who didn't recognize him as the former White Reaper stopped to admire it, earning themselves a smile from Atsushi before they walked on. If Rashomon flickered at that, Akutagawa didn't know why.
Atsushi was smiling softly as he opened the door to the Agency, his eyes cast down as if in advanced humility for the treasure he carried. Sure enough, Kenji, Tanizaki, Naomi, and even Oda got up to check out the pothos. "Akutagawa got it for me," Atsushi told everyone, glowing. He even looked back at Akutagawa, making his heart stop. It was a brief glance, however, and Akutagawa barely got a chance to savor the moment.
The plants were each placed on one corner of Atsushi's desk, though the pothos was much larger than the flower seedling. Akutagawa watched Atsushi as he periodically looked up from his paperwork to appreciate the greenery decorating his desk. It made Akutagawa feel empty and void.
But, halfway through the day, Akutagawa noticed that the smiles were starting to peter out, leaving just wide stares and discomfort towards the plants that had just a few hours ago brought him the greatest joy Akutagawa had seen on him since that time in Uzumaki.
Akutagawa was about to go interrogate Atsushi about it when Oda's hand fell on his shoulder. "We've got a case."
"Now?"
With a nod, Oda said, "immediately."
He threw his head back and let out a growl, but pulled himself out of his chair and followed Oda out of the door.
The case wound up being related to a string of disappearances. Akutagawa and Oda easily tracked down the culprit and turned him over to the police. By the time they managed to do so, the sun was already setting over the city and Oda challenged Akutagawa to a race home. Oda had won, but Akutagawa had promised not to cause any property damage after last time, and he had won back then.
He keyed into his apartment disheveled and covered in sweat, and was surprised to see Atsushi playing on his phone at the counter, surrounded not by one, but three plants. One of them was the ‘golden pothos’ that Akutagawa had given him, but the others were brand new. Atsushi looked up briefly, but was engrossed in his game. “Ah, welcome back. How was the case?”
“Who gave you more plants?” He didn’t mean for it to come out sharply, but Akutagawa felt like he needed Yosano to patch him up for some invisible wound. He frowned at himself.
At that, though, Atsushi glanced up at Akutagawa and tilted his head, ignoring the game. Their eyes held. “I got them for myself,” Atsushi said slowly, as if testing the waters.
Ah. Akutagawa hadn’t considered that. Instead he had been imagining Atsushi looking at someone else in that way Atsushi had looked at Akutagawa, feeling… strangely about it. He knew that he shouldn’t feel so strongly about it, considering it wasn’t even his idea to give Atsushi a plant. It had been Kenji’s. It wasn’t like his idea was being stolen, quite the opposite really, and he wasn’t mad at Atsushi for getting himself plants either.
When Akutagawa didn’t respond, Atsushi broke eye contact to stare at the plants. His game let out a sad little noise as his character died. “I really liked the one you gave me. I wanted more.”
“I could’ve gotten you more,” Akutagawa said, frowning. He felt like he should've been upset, but he wasn't. "I would've gotten you more."
"I know," Atsushi said softly, his eyes flickering back up to look at Akutagawa, whose heart stopped working for a second. "Thank you."
The next day, Akutagawa led Atsushi the long way to work. Atsushi, who normally went to work with his two tote bags full of snacks for the day, was carrying a third tote bag with his three plants. He had to constantly beg for Akutagawa to slow down so nothing spilled, since Akutagawa was so full of determination he kept speedwalking.
"Why are we going in here?" Atsushi demanded when Akutagawa pulled him into a hardware store. “We have work today.”
But Akutagawa had scouted out the store earlier when he couldn’t sleep and knew exactly where to go. He kept looking back at Atsushi, waiting for him to realize where they were going.
When the store opened up into a small greenhouse, Akutagawa looked back again.
Atsushi’s eyes widened slightly. Then, Akutagawa watched as his lips fell open, just a little. And then, exactly what Akutagawa was looking for, his eyes crinkled. They almost shone, and the corners of his lips came up to seal the expression of pure joy.
Before Akutagawa knew what he was doing, he took Atsushi’s face in both hands, his fingertips holding Atsushi’s cheeks. “We got paid yesterday,” he points out. “Get whatever you want. I’ll pay for it.”
Atsushi turns positively giddy in Akutagawa’s hands, giving Akutagawa a strange start in his stomach. “Okay,” he whispers, and for a moment all of Atsushi’s adoration was focused in on Akutagawa in an intoxicating way. But it was fleeting. Atsushi soon pulled away, gave Akutagawa his bags, and ran off into the small greenhouse.
There was only one thing on Akutagawa’s mind: How can I make that last longer?
Akutagawa wound up following Atsushi around as he flitted from shelf to shelf, trying to make decisions on which plants he wanted. He told Atsushi to get whatever he wanted when he started choosing between various plants he obviously liked a lot, and Atsushi’s reticence soon fell away and Akutagawa had to go get a cart to carry all of the plants Atsushi wanted.
It was fun, though. Atsushi was talking Akutagawa’s ear off, referencing magazines that Kenji had found for him about houseplants, naming off a few species and types of substrate. Akutagawa, who up until now thought that dirt was just dirt, nodded along as Atsushi rambled. It was more than Akutagawa had ever seen Atsushi talk, and he was a little shocked. If he had known that this was so easy, he’d have brought the weretiger to this place much earlier.
However, when it was time for checkout, Akutagawa frowned to realize that the total had rung up more than the cash he had in his wallet.
Atsushi’s face was burning, and he stepped up to the register, past Akutagwa. Akutagawa was about to snap at the weretiger to step back, that he was supposed to pay, but before he could, Atsushi was already offering a shiny black card to the cashier.
As she took it, Akutagawa just stared dumbly at Atsushi. This was supposed to be his gift.
“It’s okay,” Atsushi whispered with a smile. Akutagwa started to relax where he had been prickling. “I still appreciate it.”
“Okay,” Akutagawa replied, feeling like he should break eye contact. He didn’t.
A small cough came from the cashier. When neither of them looked at her, she coughed again, and then said, “your card, sir?”
“Oh. Right,” Atsushi muttered, breaking eye contact and taking the card.
Akutagawa only wanted Atsushi to look at him again.
Akutagawa carried most of the plants back with Rashomon, which earned quite a few stares from passerby. They didn’t rush on the walk back since they would earn a stern talking-to from Kunikida no matter how late they were (and also because Atsushi was worried about the plants spilling if they went too fast). Once they were home, Atsushi also took the time to snap a picture of everything he had gotten, and Akutagawa peered over Atsushi’s shoulder as the weretiger set the photo as his phone’s lockscreen background.
They walked to the Agency in silence, but Atsushi kept looking at his phone like he was checking for notifications and frowning like he was seeing bad news. Eventually, Akutagawa realized that Atsushi was looking at the plants on his lockscreen.
If so, why was he frowning? Why wasn't he happy? Akutagawa thought about it for a few seconds, and then told Atsushi, “We’ll see them again once we come back home.”
Atsushi just hummed noncommittally as he stared at his phone screen. Akutagawa didn't think he was listening.
Later that night, Akutagawa was laying awake when the closet door slid open. Atsushi’s tired face appeared in the thin light of the half-moon. “I can’t sleep,” he said when he saw Akutagawa awake.
Akutagawa sat up on his elbows and nodded. “Okay,” he said, waiting for something else.
“I’m going to take care of my plants,” Atsushi said, clambering out of the closet.
“Okay,” Akutagawa repeated. He got up, too, leaving his futon to follow Atsushi to the next room. He watched Atsushi, dressed in a light gray sweater and a pair of black pajama pants Akutagawa was pretty sure were his, as he crouched near where all of his plants were deposited earlier that day.
There wasn't much that Atsushi actually did to take care of the plants. He just kind of looked at them for a few minutes, and Akutagawa looked at Atsushi.
Akutagawa was finally starting to feel sleepy when Atsushi began talking, still staring at his plants. “Back when… Before everything happened, I guess, I used to sleep on Dazai-san’s couch.”
Akutagawa bristled at the mention of the Man in Black. It made him awake all over again out of pure rage, but he didn't say anything. It hurt Akutagawa to admit, but Atsushi needed the space to talk about the man. This wasn’t Akutagawa’s battle.
“It was… I don’t know. I enjoyed it a lot at the time. I mean, it was a privilege. It was one thing that stayed the same after he became the Boss. Even Chuuya-san didn’t get that.” Atsushi laughed a little, but it sounded small. “But… I didn’t get to have anything like this. I didn’t own anything, except for an old game console he gave me and the game it had in it. I wonder what happened to it.”
Frowning, Akutagawa looked between Atsushi and the plants he was still staring at. Was he really right before, that Atsushi was calmed enough by the plants to talk about things he otherwise found too painful? He certainly never talked about Dazai without being emotional enough to be a danger to himself and others. At least, not until he had houseplants in front of him.
Strange.
Stepping a single step forwards, Akutagawa tilted his head to the side. “Do you miss it?” He had a response he wanted to hear, expected to hear, but he wanted to hear Atsushi say it himself.
Another thin laugh permeated the air. As if in disregard for Akutagawa’s unsaid wishes, Atsushi said, “I do. Every day.”
Akutagawa froze, taken aback. He blinked heavily in confusion.
As if in detection of Akutagawa’s response, Atsushi turned around. His eyes were on Akutagawa alone now. They were blank, at first, but slowly softened. His eyes fell closed and then scrunched up, before opening again. “I think I like this better, though.”
“Oh,” Akutagawa said stupidly, feeling like every thought just left his brain. He didn’t understand why.
Atsushi smiled, but it was a mournful, slight thing. His head tilted back a little bit, a sliver of his white hair glinting in a slice of moonlight cutting across the room.
Akutagawa forced the moment to last for as long as he could. His eyes began to burn from lack of blinking.
“Let’s go to sleep,” Atsushi whispered, finally breaking eye contact to stare back at his collection of plants. He got up slowly, and didn’t look back at Akutagawa.
Before he could stop himself, Akutagawa grabbed Atsushi’s arm. “Wait,” he said quickly. “Don’t go back to the closet. You can take the futon.”
“What?” Atsushi looked confused and a little shocked.
But Akutagawa was insistent. “Take the futon. I wasn’t able to sleep regardless.”
Though Atsushi looked very unsure, he eventually nodded.
Still holding him by the arm, Akutagawa led Atsushi to the futon. They knelt to the floor together, and Akutagawa held back the blanket for Atsushi to climb inside. He looked awkward and uncomfortable, but Akutagawa was patient and they whispered to each other to get Atsushi to figure it out.
Eventually, Atsushi lay with his hands folded on his chest over the blanket, laying flat on his back. Akutagawa felt accomplished, so he prepared to stand up. He didn’t expect the hand on his wrist, nor the quiet voice that asked, “Stay?”
Atsushi’s eyes were on him. It was barely a question, the answer was so sure.
He didn’t remember falling asleep, but in the morning Akutagawa woke up with Atsushi still holding onto his arm. He knew that the Agency would be expecting them soon. Usually, the two of them relied on Akutagawa’s internal clock to wake them up, Atsushi used to working at night and Akutagawa used to waking with the sun.
Today, though, Akutagawa just closed his eyes again. Kunikida would yell at him later, but even Kunikida would have gone off schedule for something like this.
Anyone would have.