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I will crush him, no matter what.
Atsushi let out a loud groan where he sat at his desk. This had become a familiar sound in the Armed Detective Agency's main office as of late, much to Kunikida's annoyance.
The source of Atsushi's distress? His soulmate had decided, despite being silent for the first eighteen years of his life, to unleash as many scathing comments upon him as possible.
It was a poorly-understood phenomenon, but some people were born able to hear a portion of the things their soulmate thought about them. Particularly common among ability users, it was supposed to bring people together. A blessing, they called it, a signal to point you in the direction of your perfect match.
If Atsushi followed his signal, he'd be pointed in the direction of a beating.
Ranpo cackled from where he was lounging in his own chair—no doubt having immediately picked up on the reason behind his groan. Atsushi had begged him on numerous occasions for a hint regarding his soulmate’s identity, but the amount of candy he had on hand to bribe with never seemed to be enough. Ranpo was content to sit back and watch him suffer, his feet on the desk and a mischievous grin on his lips.
In other words, there was no hope for Atsushi’s love life.
Before he could smash his face into his laptop keys, longing for the ground to swallow him whole, a more comforting presence arrived in the form of Tanizaki.
“Your soulmate again?” he asked, connecting the dots as he wheeled himself over. It would be a lot more efficient for him to get up and walk, considering he worked on the opposite side of the room, but it was a slow day in the office and everyone was feeling a little lazy. Atsushi grunted out an affirmation.
Tanizaki was one of the rare ability users who had never heard an inner voice. Atsushi wasn’t sure if that was for better or for worse, given his… interesting familial relationships. However, he was also the one Agency member present who wasn’t either laughing at or exhausted by his nonstop grumbling, and under Kunikida's glare any support was appreciated.
With Tanizaki’s reassuring hand patting his shoulder, Atsushi waited to see if his soulmate connection had any more for him. An elaboration on the manner in which he would be crushed, perhaps? He doubted it was in a good way, but at this point he was willing to take whatever he could get.
His head was filled with silence. Somehow, that made him feel more disheartened.
“Maybe you should buy them flowers as an apology,” Tanizaki suggested, which was a great idea. Or rather, it would be a great idea if Atsushi knew who his soulmate was or what on earth he had done wrong. Part of him had hoped their disdain was towards the system in general, thinking that maybe they weren’t comfortable with the idea of a destined partner. He could've worked with that.
Until, one day, he'd heard the voice comparing his intelligence to that of an ‘undernourished louse’ and… yeah, no. It was definitely a personal thing.
He slouched, resting the nape of his neck on the back of his chair and staring up at the ceiling. It was just his luck, being paired with someone that hated him. Atsushi wished he could have a conversation with them about it, but the connection wasn’t something you could call reliable. He heard an average of a sentence or two every couple of days—nowhere near frequent enough to communicate. Not to mention he had no way of knowing which of his own thoughts were being transmitted to his soulmate. It was pointless. He could only pray that they would cross paths at some point and be able to talk it out.
In the middle of his sulking, Dazai sauntered into the room, returning from the bathroom break he'd dramatically informed the office he was taking ten minutes earlier. He raised an eyebrow at Atsushi’s slumped figure as he perched on the corner of Kunikida’s desk. Ignoring the arms trying to shove him off, he leaned down and whispered a question into his partner’s ear.
“His soulmate thoughts keep threatening him,” Atsushi heard Kunikida explain, in the tired tone of somebody who wanted the topic to be dropped already.
“Oh, mine are like that too!” came Dazai’s gleeful reply.
That made Atsushi sink further into his chair. If his situation was relatable to Dazai of all people, he truly was doomed.
Pathetic individuals like him have no reason to exist.
Now, Atsushi wouldn’t label himself as confident. Quite the opposite, if anything. So hearing the person destined to be his one true match degrade him constantly was doing a number on his self-esteem.
When he heard the insult of the day, he was sitting in the Agency’s café beside Kyouka and sipping green tea. He craved ochazuke, but they didn’t serve that here even after his (refused) requests for it to be added to the menu, so he had opted for the next best thing. Lucy was also present, partaking in the usual behavior she adopted whenever the two showed up—slacking on the job—and was sprawled on the opposite side of the booth.
Tapping his fingers on the wood of the table, Atsushi contemplated whether he should bring up his predicament to the two of them. He and Dazai couldn’t be the only people who were antagonized by their inner voices, right? This was real life, and human relationships weren’t perfect. It must be natural to hear an unsavory comment every once in a while. Even if it wasn’t the norm, he and Lucy were similar in a lot of ways. Maybe this would be another one.
“Do you ever hear your soulmate think bad stuff about you?” he asked, interrupting the two girls’ discussion of a horror movie they’d watched last week.
Kyouka paused in drinking her hot milk to peer up at him curiously. Lucy blinked, processing his question.
“Why? Did you get into a fight with them?” She sounded far too excited by the idea of Atsushi getting his ass handed to him.
“What? No!” he exclaimed. Although, a fight would explain a lot. “I don’t think so?”
Lucy snorted. Pulling herself up from her reclined position, she turned to face them. “To answer your question, no, I’ve never heard that before. Kyouka?”
Kyouka shook her head before taking another sip from the mug in her hands. She placed it back down on the table.
“My soulmate just thinks about wanting to meet me,” she said quietly, embarrassed.
Atsushi sighed. He must have met his soulmate already for them to think about him with such vitriol. The Armed Detective Agency was well-known, so that didn’t help much. He had met countless people. It was scarily possible that their first encounter might have been on a mission—he really didn’t want to be matched with one of the criminals he’d apprehended. Or, the hatred could've spawned from him being thrown into the hood of his soulmate’s car during a fight, or something, which wasn’t as uncommon an occurrence as he would like.
Crap. It would suck if their first impression of him involved an unpayable amount of property damage.
“They definitely know me,” he muttered, resting his forehead on the table in despair.
“Mine knows me, as well,” Lucy blurted, seemingly without meaning to, as she flushed brightly enough to match her hair. “They say a lot of nice things, though.”
He lifted his head. “Do you know who it is?”
“I— Like I'd tell you!” She chewed at her lip, taking a breath to regain her composure. “...They haven’t given me any hints. I think they’re too shy.”
Atsushi shot her a teasing grin. She jumped up from the booth, cheeks rosy, pointing an accusatory finger at them both and declaring that they were distracting her from her shift. Kyouka’s only reaction was one of her typical blank stares, and Lucy scuttled away behind the counter, busying herself with serving customers that didn’t exist. At the sound of Atsushi’s chuckle, she added whipped cream to a mocha with far more violence than was necessary.
It was nice to see someone with a similar past to him in such a good place. That being said, as happy as he was for both Lucy and Kyouka, Atsushi couldn’t help but feel a pang of envy. Why wasn’t he matched with some fairytale-esque other half?
Maybe he had been, but instead of getting the handsome prince or beautiful princess he’d ended up with the wicked witch. He was struck by the mental image of himself sweeping a fireplace and singing to birds, his soulmate locking him in the cellar and swallowing the key. They would sneer down at him as he scrubbed the floorboards, calling him a fool and— wait, why was he imagining his evil villain soulmate as that guy now? Gross. Did green tea have psychedelic effects he didn’t know about?
As if summoned, the voice chose that moment to speak again.
What a coward.
Yeah, there goes the fairytale daydreams. He couldn’t picture those words coming from the mouth of Prince Charming.
What does he have that I lack?
This question came late at night when Atsushi would normally be sleeping. He always became restless on the nights of full moons, the fear of transforming into the tiger lingering in his body despite the control over his ability he now possessed. Staring at the inside of the closet door, the words ripped his falling eyelids wide open.
They were quiet, if it were possible for thoughts to have any particular volume, and tinged with insecurity.
His soulmate was awake at this ungodly hour and thinking about him. Did they live overseas? But Atsushi had never been abroad, and they spoke in Japanese so that theory didn’t hold much weight. A night owl, then.
A night owl that appeared to have some bizarre inferiority complex related to him.
It would certainly explain why they hated him so much, but it made no sense. The wording implied he had achieved something, something that his soulmate thought him undeserving of. No matter how long he mulled it over, Atsushi couldn’t figure out what that something could be. He wasn’t an accomplished person. He wasn’t wealthy, he lived in an apartment owned by his boss, and he had enough childhood trauma to line the pockets of multiple therapists. Not exactly inspirational.
On the other hand, he felt guilty to admit it, but he was kind of relieved. His soulmate’s dislike of him seemed to be caused by their own self-doubt, rather than being a response to some grave offense he had unknowingly committed. All he had to do was find them and prove that there was no reason to resent someone like him. After that, the two of them could hold hands and run off into the sunset. Or maybe not—that was a little cheesy.
Atsushi turned onto his other side, shoving his face into the pillow. There was no need to get caught up in a romantic fantasy again. He had much more important things to think about, like the Agency. He still had to get stronger, not only to defeat Akutagawa in their upcoming duel but for his own sake. His life was more than just one-sided pining after his soulmate.
Besides, what had he done to earn himself a happy ending like that? He would much rather postpone meeting them until he was the best version of himself that he could be.
With that resolution in mind, he squeezed his eyes shut, willing himself to sleep. It took another hour before his body obeyed, unable to shake off thoughts of interlocking fingers and golden sunsets warping together.
I get it now.
Atsushi was walking home after a mission when he heard the next words. They weren’t groundbreaking, nothing to make him stop in his tracks, but he did wonder. Get what?
Oh well. He was just glad that it wasn’t verbal abuse for a change.
Today’s mission had been an unexpected success. He and Akutagawa had managed to combine their abilities without any major issues, and with this cooperation they'd taken down the gifted overseer of a drug trafficking ring. Atsushi had danced around the warehouse at their job well done, whooping and cheering like a child. Akutagawa hadn’t even berated him for it, his chin held high, satisfied with his smooth elimination of one of the Port Mafia’s headaches.
It would take a lot to bring down Atsushi’s good mood now. Thankfully, his soulmate seemed to be laying off the snide remarks, so that was one less thing to worry about.
Kicking a rock as he walked, he made his way back towards the Agency’s dorms. A smile sprouted on his lips. Days like these reminded him what he was doing all of this for, his field experience and self-confidence growing with every completed assignment. And as much as it pained him to acknowledge, he was beginning to see Dazai’s vision in pairing him with Akutagawa. He felt powerful when they worked together. There was no sensation quite like the thrum of Rashomon accompanying the tiger’s blood in his veins.
The rock rolled through a gasoline rainbow on the sidewalk. Staring at the colors running together, Atsushi’s steps slowed. He was hit with the sudden urge to look up at the skyline instead of down at his shoes, so he did. His eyes landed on a black shape several hundred feet away, pushing itself up with long jagged stilts as it vaulted between the rooftops.
Obviously, he recognized the shape at once. That ability had wrapped his own skin mere hours ago. Akutagawa painted a chilling yet graceful picture against the evening sky, his silhouette a piece cut out of the horizon.
He looked… really cool, to be honest. Not that Atsushi would ever let himself be caught saying that outside the safe confines of his head.
Halfway through a jump, Akutagawa paused, setting himself down on a railing and leaning forward to survey the street. Atsushi could just barely make out his pale face as he examined the people below. He was motionless for a moment, his coat moving softly with the breeze, before he hopped down from his perch out of sight.
Atsushi huffed. He didn’t understand how Akutagawa could be so shameless about using his ability in public, bouncing between the buildings like some kind of comic superhero. Then again, with a fearsome reputation like his, it wasn't as if anybody would be itching to stop him. Atsushi wished he could relate to that freedom. The last time he had tried to stroll around in tiger form, it had ended in a humiliating conversation with animal control.
He glanced back at his shoes to notice he’d lost his rock. Stupid Akutagawa, being so distracting. He tucked his hands into his pockets and turned onto the road leading to the dormitories.
I despise how I feel about you.
Dazai’s briefing seemed to grow muffled behind the sentence, causing Atsushi to shake his head in an attempt to focus. They were in the middle of an assignment, he didn’t have time for this right now.
In spite of his efforts, his heart raced. This was the first time he had been directly addressed by the voice of his soulmate. Not only that, but they were… nice? Sort of. Actually, he was grateful they were still kind of mean. It might be too much for him to bear if he heard something heartfelt after all of the previous contempt.
Akutagawa was glowering at him from underneath Dazai’s hand, which had a claw-like grip on the top of his head. Atsushi ignored him. He tried to tune back in to Dazai’s explanation, hearing bits and pieces about stake-outs and windows, but he found it impossible to pay attention, the message from his soulmate repeating in his head like a mantra.
They despise how they feel about him? How did they feel? He'd believed that they hated his guts until about ten seconds ago, but with the new words that didn’t add up. Did they reluctantly like him, then? Atsushi’s heart fluttered at the thought, and he cleared his throat. Dazai gave him a weird look.
Uh oh, now his daydreaming was interfering with his work. This was an important briefing, he reminded himself. He would have to force Akutagawa to fill him in on what he’d missed later. No doubt he was listening to Dazai’s orders like they were gospel.
It took Atsushi a moment to realize they were both looking at him expectantly, and he sensed that he had been asked a question. He gave his mentor an uneasy smile that was slightly too teethy to be genuine.
Dazai seemed to take it as a smile of agreement to… something, and before Atsushi knew it he was shoved inside a dingy hotel room with a pair of binoculars in his hand and Akutagawa by his side.
Okay, so definitely a stakeout mission. He could do this. But who were they staking out for? Atsushi turned to Akutagawa with his mouth open, ready to ask him what they had to do, when—
“Weretiger,” Akutagawa began, with an expression that if Atsushi didn’t know better he would’ve called ashamed, “Are you aware of what we are doing here?”
Atsushi’s mouth was still open. “I was about to ask you that!”
Akutagawa’s sheepish look twisted into a sneer.
“Of course you were,” he scoffed, stalking over to the window and muttering various creative insults under his breath.
“Hey, you weren’t paying attention either!” Atsushi exclaimed. “What’s that all about?”
Akutagawa sat on the window ledge, looking down at the street. He held out a hand for Atsushi to drop the binoculars into.
“I was preoccupied with other matters,” he said, putting the binoculars to his eyes the moment he felt them in his grasp. He did not elaborate on what the aforementioned other matters were. Atsushi rolled his eyes.
“Whatever,” he grumbled, stretching his arms behind his back. His spine let out a satisfying pop. “It’s not like we haven’t done this before. We’ll check out anything we find suspicious, alright?”
Akutagawa did not make any sound or motion in response, but he also didn’t snap back with anything rude, which was about as close as you could get to mutual understanding with him. Clearly they had spent far too much time together, if Atsushi was able to categorize his behavior this well.
With some reluctance, he dragged himself over to the window and sat on the ledge. It wasn’t big enough for both of them, the tips of their shoes mashed awkwardly against each other. He peered outside. The area next to the hotel was deserted, without a single pedestrian for him to gawp at. Chances are they would be stuck here for a while.
His gaze flicked to Akutagawa. He was unmoving, the binoculars glued to his face. Atsushi kicked at the side of one of his fancy dress shoes, just to be annoying. Akutagawa lowered the binoculars to send him an exasperated glare. Atsushi had to bite his tongue to fight back the laugh bubbling up from his chest.
What was wrong with him today? He was jittery, tapping his knuckles on the glass in a rhythm he didn’t recognize. Nervous energy buzzed in his every movement and he couldn’t put his finger on the source of it.
Those nerves were the only excuse he could come up with for why he steered them into the next topic of conversation.
“Hey,” he said suddenly, thoughtlessly, “Do you hear a soulmate in your head?”
Akutagawa stared at him for a long moment. “I don’t see what that has to do with the mission.”
“Nothing,” Atsushi replied. “I just want to know.”
Pulling his coat tighter around himself and breaking eye contact, Akutagawa returned his attention to the street. Atsushi’s shoulders sank. He supposed it had been a personal question. There was no way Akutagawa would react well to such blatant prying, especially not from him.
He shifted his own eyes back to the window. Birds were digging through the trash outside, fighting amongst themselves for scraps. The largest one snatched a slice of bread from its peers before taking off into the sky.
“I do,” a gruff voice spoke. “Not that it’s any business of yours.”
Atsushi’s head snapped up. The popped collar of Akutagawa’s coat folded inwards where it touched the glass.
“Really?” he asked.
Akutagawa’s expression hardened. “Is it so difficult for you to fathom that I, too, am capable of loving?”
“No!” Well, kinda, but he couldn’t say that. “I was surprised, is all. Do you know who...”
“Not with certainty,” Akutagawa said vaguely. There was something guarded in the line of his shoulders, his posture growing stiff.
“Huh. You’re doing better than me, at least. All I know is that my soulmate is awful.”
Unable to sit in the cramped space any longer, Atsushi pushed himself up and began to pace between the hotel bed and the window. He missed the deepening of Akutagawa's frown.
“They criticize me as if they’re paid by the hour to be a jerk, but they seem jealous of me, too? It’s like I have something they want.”
“Is that so,” Akutagawa’s voice had a weird edge to it.
“Yeah! I’m starting to wonder whether I really need to meet them, after all.” Atsushi folded his arms. “I mean, why would I want to be with someone so unbearable?”
It was stuffy in here. He had no idea how Akutagawa wasn’t burning up in those layers of his.
“You aren’t the most tolerable person yourself,” Akutagawa snapped, probably from the heat exhaustion.
“Ha-ha,” Atsushi said. “I bet you two would get along great. You could bond over the different ways you want to dismember me, or whatever.”
There was a shuffling on the window ledge. The binoculars clattered on the floor as if thrown down in frustration.
“You are so incomprehensibly stupid,” Akutagawa hissed. Atsushi whirled around, shocked by the venom in his tone. Akutagawa had shifted in his seat to face him, his back resting against the glass with one knee drawn to his chest.
“Exactly! Just like that!” Atsushi shouted out, a mixture of offense and disbelief. “That’s the exact thing I have to put up with every day, not just from you but from my soulmate! Don’t you think that’s unfair?”
His fists were balled so tightly that his knuckles paled. Something about talking it over with Akutagawa had invited every pent-up feeling he had about his soulmate’s words to come rushing into him at once.
He needed to relax. They were on a mission right now. A stakeout, at that, where they had to be alert. This was not the time to devolve into an argument.
Storming off in the direction of the en-suite bathroom, Atsushi tried to cool his temper. The screeching of the floorboards beneath his boots caused his jaw to clench.
Before he could make it out of the room, three words rooted him to the spot.
You’re being ridiculous.
His legs went rigid as the statement echoed through his mind.
For that to be directed towards him, his soulmate must know what was happening. To know that, they must be here. How could that be the case? There was no one but him and Akutagawa in the room, and Atsushi was certain he couldn’t be seen through the window from where he stood.
Only one possibility remained. He spun on his heel, hackles raised.
Akutagawa was scowling at him when he turned, evidently having been glaring holes into the back of his head. When their gazes met, a flicker of confusion crossed his face before his eyes widened in horror.
“Don’t tell me…” Atsushi whispered, leaving the rest of his sentence unfinished. It had to be some terrible coincidence, right? There was no way Akutagawa was his soulmate. The universe wouldn’t be that cruel, even to him.
Akutagawa recoiled, as though Atsushi had spoken those thoughts aloud, and any remaining doubt he had fizzled out.
“I didn’t mean that!” he spluttered, trying to remedy the situation. “I just— It’s not— You hate me!”
It was a fair assumption to make. If anything, finding out that the voice who had spent the last few months belittling him was Akutagawa proved it. His soulmate hadn’t held back in expressing their dislike for him.
In fact, Akutagawa was the one other person he knew who shared that proclivity. Atsushi wanted to smack himself. It made almost too much sense for them to be the same thorn in his side.
Standing from the window ledge, Akutagawa strode across the room to stand in front of him. His brows were furrowed, casting shadows into his already dark expression. Atsushi swallowed hard.
“It’s you,” he breathed out. “You’re my soulmate.”
“Nicely deduced,” Akutagawa snarled, walking past him into the bathroom and slamming the door.
Atsushi stood frozen for a moment, before he sagged, falling onto the foot of the bed. He rubbed at his face. That could’ve gone better.
His body felt sluggish with stress and another emotion he couldn’t identify, but his mind was running a mile a minute. Every single thought he’d heard from the soul bond was from Akutagawa. That information changed his perspective on everything. The fog of confusion lifted, mysteries unraveling and pieces locking into place. He’d thought that his joining of the ADA was what had sent his soulmate into a vicious overdrive—and he was right, in a manner of speaking. Around that same time was when he had first met Akutagawa. Instantly, the hatred made sense, the jealousy made sense, the once-puzzling insecurity made sense.
He couldn’t stop thinking about the words he’d heard today. Not the ones in which Akutagawa had called him ridiculous, but those at the start of Dazai’s briefing.
I despise how I feel about you, he had thought, while fixing Atsushi with that unfriendly expression. Atsushi had pondered over it for a short moment at the time, but now it was returning to him at full force. Given the stubborn attitude, it wasn’t hard to figure out that Akutagawa was showing resistance to something. Some kind of feeling. A positive feeling. Later, on the window ledge, he’d said something important, something about loving. Damn it, what was it again?
Atsushi’s gaze fell on the binoculars lying discarded on the carpet. He stood and moved to pick them up.
There was a crack across the eyepiece of the left barrel. He rubbed a thumb over it, praying it was just a smudge. It wasn’t. Hopefully Dazai wouldn’t be too mad.
A movement outside the window caught his eye. He looked out and was taken aback by the sight of a recognizable tan coat. Speak of the devil.
Dazai spotted him and grinned, lifting an arm to give him an energetic wave. Atsushi raised a bewildered hand back. What was he doing, standing in the middle of the street they were supposed to be watching over? Didn’t that defeat the purpose of booking a hotel room?
The smile on Dazai's face turned crooked. He brought his two hands together, mimicking a kissing motion, before tilting his head in question. Oh.
Atsushi yanked the curtains closed. The tips of his ears burned.
Dazai, the ever-meddling senior. Of course he’d be involved in this drama somehow.
Atsushi exhaled, the sound coming out rough against his ears. The silence was making him tense. His eyes darted around the hotel room, but were continually drawn to the closed bathroom door.
So it seemed this was all a setup. Most things were, when it came to him and Akutagawa. Dazai’s insistence to matchmake them had stumped him for so long, but now he felt kind of dumb. Was it possible Dazai had known about their connection this entire time?
Chewing on the inside of his cheek, Atsushi came to a decision. He glanced at the door once more.
Akutagawa, his soulmate, was on the other side. What choice did he have but to open it?
He tiptoed over and, bracing himself, gave the door a gentle knock.
“Akutagawa?” he called out.
There was no response.
“I’m sorry,” he continued. “I was insensitive. Can we talk about this?”
More silence. He was about to speak a third time when the door was pulled open and he was met with Akutagawa’s unimpressed look. His lips formed the shape of another apology, but Akutagawa cut him off.
“Don’t snivel at my feet like some miserable wretch,” he said. “If you have something of substance to say, then out with it.”
“Okay,” Atsushi took a breath, “I want to give us a try.”
His confession surprised him, and he promptly began choking on his own spit. That was not what he had knocked on the door intending to say. Akutagawa’s brows shot to his hairline.
“And what gives the impression that I want to ‘try’ anything with you?”
Despite reeling from his words, Atsushi found that he didn’t feel compelled to take them back, which scared him a lot more than saying them had. But wasn’t this what he had wanted all along? Maybe he'd been clinging to a fantasy, but his one recurring wish was to meet with his other half.
It just so happened that his other half was Akutagawa. So what? There were worse people in the world to be matched with. Probably.
Okay, maybe there weren't, but the two of them worked well together in battle—after they made it through the initial back-and-forth, anyway. Atsushi felt invigorated fighting by Akutagawa's side, and thanks to his earlier brainstorming he was pretty sure he knew how Akutagawa felt too.
If his past self could see him now, he’d think that he had lost his mind. Atsushi couldn’t confidently say he would be wrong.
“Well”—he squared his shoulders and stared Akutagawa down—“at the start of the briefing you thought about me in a way that, uhm…”
He wrung his hands together. There was no backing out now. “…You thought about me in a way that implied you have feelings for me.”
Akutagawa was silent.
“And if the way you reacted a moment ago means anything,” Atsushi continued, “I think they’re romantic ones.”
Akutagawa mumbled something. It was so indecipherable that even Atsushi’s tiger senses couldn’t pick up on it.
“What?” he asked.
“I said perhaps you aren’t as obtuse as you look,” Akutagawa gritted out. The malice was dampened significantly by the dusting of red across his cheekbones.
Atsushi grinned. See? He was right. He wasn’t stupid, and he wasn’t a coward either. Take that, Akutagawa from the café.
Curling his fingers around a thin wrist, Atsushi pulled him out of the bathroom. Akutagawa was cool to the touch. Atsushi’s skin brushed his sleeve and the fabric rippled in recognition. Embarrassed by his ability's response, Akutagawa spoke.
“Our pact still stands,” he said firmly, luring Atsushi’s attention away from his coat. “Regardless of these circumstances, I must still defeat you.”
It seemed even being Akutagawa’s soulmate didn’t take him off the hitlist. It was unfortunate, but Atsushi wasn’t naïve enough to expect that Akutagawa would abandon his purpose in the blink of an eye. Besides, the six months weren’t up yet. There was plenty of time to help him change his mindset.
Currently, he was more entranced by the feeling of Akutagawa’s wrist in his palm. His hand almost engulfed it, the tip of his middle finger pressing into the pad of his thumb with ease. Akutagawa didn't share his fixation, instead growing confused by the darkness of the room.
“The stakeout,” he murmured. “Why have you closed the drapes?”
Atsushi gulped. He prayed that Dazai had the decency to not continue standing outside.
“Akutagawa,” he said, as Akutagawa freed himself and marched over to the window, “I don’t think Dazai put us on an actual mi—”
Akutagawa thrust open the curtains, stiffening at the sight of something—or more likely, someone—down below. He watched them for as long as he could bear before pulling the curtains closed, a hand covering his mouth.
“I see."
He shifted his balance from one foot to the other. The room was dim, the daylight blocked out by curtains that neither of them were willing to open again in fear of meeting Dazai’s sly smile.
“We should…” Atsushi pointed a thumb at the entryway next to him.
The best course of action would be to just get out of here. Discovering that Akutagawa was his soulmate had been a lot to process. The knowledge loomed over him like a thundercloud, ready to strike any sense of normality from his life. It was a gigantic tidal wave while he was a tiny paper boat, bobbing on the open sea. A hurricane that— never mind, you get the idea. Atsushi had a lot of weather-related metaphors for their situation.
He needed a hot drink and a nap. Sitting in a dark hotel room with his enemy-turned-something-else was not how he pictured spending the rest of the afternoon.
Akutagawa hummed in agreement, pulling the room’s keycard from his pocket and walking towards the exit. He ran a hand through his hair, lifting his bangs from where they rested against his cheekbones and fully exposing his forehead. Atsushi’s throat closed up.
Illogical as it may sound, in that tiny fragment of time, he felt as though walking out of that room would destroy whatever progress they had made. It was an absurd, nonsensical realization to have while his thumb still gestured at the door.
All he knew was that he didn’t want Akutagawa to leave.
Slender fingers halted where they were about to close around the door handle. Noticing the hesitation, Atsushi darted over, planting himself between Akutagawa and the exit. He only became aware of the precarious position he’d put them into when his back hit the wood.
He didn’t say a word. Neither did Akutagawa, his eyes flicking across Atsushi’s face like he was trying to piece together a jigsaw puzzle. He tucked the keycard back into his pocket agonizingly slow. Atsushi wished their damn unreliable telepathic connection would work right now, so he could figure out what Akutagawa could possibly be thinking.
The fingers hovering by the handle moved up to grip his tie and it occurred to him that maybe he didn’t need the voice in his head to know what was going on.
“Weretiger,” Akutagawa warned, his voice low. “In three months, I will kill you.”
Holding his gaze brought about the same feeling as seeing a night sky absent of stars. Unfortunately for his intimidation tactics, Atsushi no longer feared that darkness.
“I know,” he replied, before cupping Akutagawa’s face and bringing their lips together.
Akutagawa’s jaw was pronounced under his touch, and Atsushi was kind of mad about it. He was clear-cut lines where Atsushi was smooth edges, his features defined as though carved from granite. Everything about Akutagawa was sharp—the blades of his ability striking his foes, his harsh words slicing through Atsushi’s ears and mind, his teeth biting into Atsushi’s bottom lip. It drew a grunt, Atsushi retaliating by tugging on the soft strands at the back of his head. Akutagawa gasped at the sensation, his lips parting, and Atsushi licked into his mouth.
The pull around his neck from Akutagawa clutching his tie relaxed, and he felt tentative hands exploring his chest. Part of his shirt had become untucked in their near-scuffle, and cool fingers dipped under the cotton to graze his stomach. His abs tensed at the contact. Akutagawa hummed against his lips.
The feeling of Akutagawa’s body against his was dizzying, and he wasn’t sure whether it was because they were soulmates or if Akutagawa simply had that effect on him. That morning, Atsushi had left his apartment thinking he was in for another tiring but uneventful assignment with his enemy, and now that very same person had him pressed against the door of a shitty hotel room with his hands up his shirt. He kept expecting reality to come crashing back any minute, like this was some hallucination concocted by his subconscious and in truth they were on a real stakeout mission, sitting on a dirty window ledge and waiting for a group of ruffians to appear.
Akutagawa pulled back for the briefest moment, tilting his head and diving back in at an angle that was deeper, somehow. Atsushi was near delirious. It felt oddly like the time he and the rest of the Agency were struck down by fever. One of his suspenders began to fall down his arm and, instead of fixing it, Akutagawa slid off the other one. Atsushi grabbed a fistful of his neckpiece with an irritated sound.
He didn’t consider himself the easily swooning type, but Akutagawa must have much stronger resolve than he does, because any will Atsushi had to fight him to the death had crumbled the second that hand had first settled on his tie.
Before he could lose himself too much, they were startled by a knock on the door. He flinched, his nose knocking roughly against Akutagawa’s, who broke away with a pained hiss. Even though his face was scrunched in a wince, Atsushi couldn’t help but stare at him in awe. His cheeks were stained with blossoms of pink, his lips swollen red. Atsushi doubted his own appearance was any better. He turned around and squinted through the peephole, wondering who had interrupted them.
Kunikida was on the other side, tapping his foot and looking at his watch. Huh?
What was he doing here? Was there an emergency? Atsushi flung the door open at once.
“Atsushi,” Kunikida said, looking up from his watch, “that lazy bastard Dazai sent me to...”
His voice died in his throat as he took in Atsushi’s dishevelment, and he blanched as he noticed Akutagawa standing behind him in a similar state.
“...collect you,” he finished, ripping his eyes away from the two of them and staring down the hall. “But I see that isn’t necessary. I’ll be heading back to the agency.”
“Wait!” Atsushi protested, mortified. He was never going to live this down. “I’ll come with you. The mission’s over.”
There was a strained pause before Kunikida responded, “Very well.”
He still wasn’t looking at them. Atsushi risked a peek at Akutagawa, who had somehow managed to tidy his hair and clothing already, being betrayed solely by the redness of his mouth. Atsushi attempted to tuck his shirt back into his pants. It was visibly wrinkled.
Kissing and then ditching Akutagawa in a rundown place like this felt cruel, but he knew he'd struggle to convince Kunikida to chauffeur a member of the Port Mafia. The two of them seemed on edge as it was, Atsushi guessing that his presence was the one thing preventing them from entering some sort of standoff.
At least, Kunikida was on edge. Akutagawa was as cool as a cucumber, his hands tucked into his pockets with all of the composure Atsushi desperately wanted to gather.
Swallowing, he said, “I’ll see you soon?”
Akutagawa nodded. His face was blank, but his eyes carried a twinkle of amusement. Asshole.
Kunikida started down the hall and Atsushi scurried after him, trying to keep up with his brisk pace. He could feel a piercing gaze follow them all the way to the elevators. It didn’t bother him—not when he could hear the thought that accompanied it.
I’m glad it’s you.
Three times? Today must be his lucky day. Atsushi didn’t look back. There was no way in hell he was letting Akutagawa know how wide he was smiling.