Chapter Text
This was supposed to be a mission — but Atsushi wasn't yet convinced that this wasn't an elaborate scheme of Dazai’s to get a free vacation.
“Yosano!” Dazai was whining as they stood in a queue, waiting for their bags to be checked. “You got the drinks package? That’s not fair! Why didn’t I get the drinks package?”
“Because I paid for it myself,” responded Yosano, and Atsushi could hear the way she rolled her eyes behind her sunglasses. She was already dressed for her vacation, her normal uniform switched out for a sundress, sunglasses, and a floppy wide brimmed hat. It made Atsushi feel a little over-dressed, especially when she looked around at all the other tourists, but in her defense, she didn’t really own any other clothes. “I’m just here in case someone gets hurt, I don’t have to stay sober.”
“Yosanoooo,” whined Dazai, who was also dressed in her work clothes, even down to her ever-present bandages, which had to be stifling in the summer humidity. “You’ll share though, won’t you?”
“No way!”
“Come oooon—”
Atsushi stopped listening to her superior’s whining, Instead she looked up and out into the port, staring again at the bulking presence of the ship, huge and heavy in the water.
A cruise ship. Despite her reservations, Atsushi was a little excited. Not long ago she would have never dreamed of setting foot on an actual cruise ship, never mind one as fancy looking as this. And sure, it was for a mission — but even that didn’t sound so bad to Atsushi. It was mainly an information gathering mission, after all.
They were hoping to find a mysterious ability user that had apparently been making some trouble in the underground. A woman named Natalie Barney, the supposed leader of some previously unknown group of ability users that was getting called The Cult of Sappho — though no one knew much more than that. It seemed they hid in plain sight under the guise of otherwise innocent social events. Rumor had it some of the members, including Barney herself, would be meeting on a Mediterranean cruise ship — the one Atsushi was currently looking up at. Since the group was all women, Atsushi, Dazai, and Yosano were all supposed to infiltrate the cruise — though Yosano was mainly around in case there was violence. Adequate medical care would be hard to get at sea, after all.
Secretly, Atsushi hoped this would all be so simple she would actually get a chance to relax a little too. It seemed like a shame to be on such a nice cruise and not manage to enjoy herself a little, but also she was willing to admit that she might be a little influenced by her mentor’s attitude there. Ever since they had found out that this was going to be their assignment, Dazai had been talking non stop about how much fun she was going to have, not once saying a thing about the actual mission. No matter how many times Kunikida had scolded Dazai, for a week leading up the mission all the woman had been talking about were the various amenities the cruise would have, which apparently included a spa, a casino, and even a movie theater. Kunikida had also once pointed out, rather passive-aggressively, that you could also take fitness classes — but Dazai hadn’t seemed as enthused about that, and had changed the subject to all the various bars on the ship.
“Atsushi~!” called the woman in question, tearing Atsushi’s attention from the large ship in front of her. The line had moved along a little bit, so Atsushi jogged lightly to catch up to her superiors, weighed down a little from carrying Dazai’s bag as well as her own. When she had caught up with them, Dazai cheerfully asked, “Are you excited to meet up with our informants?”
“The fact that you keep asking me that is making me nervous, honestly.”
“Oh, trust me, Atsushi-kun, you’re going to like it.” Dazai had been saying vague things like that all morning now, and it really was becoming disconcerting. “Don’t worry, I’ll explain everything once we’ve departed.”
“You could always just tell me now.”
“Ah, that wouldn’t be any fun! Now, more importantly: I know they said we have to do the safety training, but do you think I could get out of it? I don’t want to learn how not to drown.”
Atsushi sighed heavily, her eyes glancing back up at the ship. She hoped this cruise wasn’t going to be a disaster.
This was a disaster.
“Oh my god,” sneered Chuuya, somehow already holding a drink. “I can’t believe you’re both dressed like that. How are you not dead in those stupid bandages?”
“Oh please,” Dazai scoffed, waving her hand dismissively. “I’m not taking fashion critiques from someone wearing a harness.”
“At least I’m not wearing my work clothes! You might as well be dressed like fucking cops! Even Akutagawa did a better job at dressing down — no offense, Akutagawa.”
“None taken,” mumbled Akutagawa, looking like she would rather be anywhere else. Atsushi understood the feeling, though she assumed Akutagawa had at least been prepared for this little meetup. Informants — Atsushi should have guessed. She wished she could have bailed with Yosano, who had disappeared shortly after they got on the ship, but Dazai had insisted they were going to meet their ‘informants’. Of course Dazai had been hiding the fact that it was a Port Mafia executive, accompanied by the woman who had once vowed to kill Atsushi. Of course.
Though, Atsushi had to admit, the two Port Mafia members definitely fit in better with the tourists. Chuuya looked like she had stepped out of a magazine, in high-waisted pants and and a fitted white tank top, a short leather jacket draped over her shoulders, designer sunglasses and hat, and yes, matching her leather choker, a black strappy harness around her chest that Atsushi didn’t really get, but did feel vaguely intimidated by. Akutagawa wasn't quite as flashily dressed as Chuuya — but it was even more distracting to Atsushi, seeing her sometimes-enemy in casual clothes. It was her usual black and white color palette still, but she had forgone her coat in favor of a long-sleeved flowy white blouse, and an ankle-length black skirt, the look completed by sunglasses and a floppy black hat.
Still, as casually as she was dressed, Akutagawa was still completely incapable of behaving casually, hands shoved into her skirt pockets as she stood so stiff and awkwardly, she could be a mannequin. She glared at Atsushi when they made eye contact over the tops of her sunglasses, which was wholly unnecessary because Atsushi hadn’t even said anything to her yet. Still, Atsushi looked away — which actually meant she looked down and noticed that Akutagawa had completed the look with chunky black sandals, and then she had to suppress a laugh. There was something ridiculous about the idea of Akutagawa wearing sandals, but also Atsushi didn’t want to get stabbed for laughing. Especially considering they were still in the very public atrium on the cruise ship, if off to the side.
“Honestly I expect this from you, mackerel, but come on, you couldn’t tell your subordinate not to wear her uniform to the undercover mission?” continued Chuuya, gesturing at Atsushi with her gloved hand, and Atsushi felt the need to defend herself.
“I would have worn something else! I just… I don’t own many other clothes.” She realized as she said it that it was less a defense, and more so just an embarrassing confession. Oh well. “But it's fine! I just won’t wear my tie and stuff.”
Chuuya blinked at her, looking a little stunned, before turning back to Dazai. “Is this the kind of shoddy organization you work for now? It can’t even pay its employees enough to afford clothes?”
“Hey, I’m not in charge of the finances!”
“This plan was your idea, you should be the one to make sure she has the clothes to play the part!”
“Wait,” Atsushi tried to interrupt. “What part am I playing?”
Both Dazai and Chuuya ignored her.
“Well, I trust that Atsushi-chan doesn’t need a tacky wardrobe to do a good job in this mission.”
“She needs to not get us found out immediately. Fucking hell, do I need to do everything for you Agency losers?” And then, Chuuya was turning back to Atsushi. “Alright, come with me.”
“Huh?”
Chuuya rolled her eyes, and dramatically knocked back the rest of the drink that was in her hand. “Did I fucking stutter? Come with me, we’re getting you an appropriate wardrobe.”
“What? But— I think we’re supposed to go do the safety training—”
“There’s time for that later. This is more important.”
Which was how Atsushi ended up being dragged into one of the ship’s specialty boutiques, which was a thing cruise ships had, apparently.
“Nakahara-san,” Atsushi tried to protest. “I-I don’t think this is necessary...”
“Shut up; yes it is,” snapped Chuuya, not looking up from where she was thumbing through button up shirts. “Mm, it’s not a great collection but it will have to do. I hope you like floral prints.”
“But…” Atsushi tried to argue, glancing at the price tag on a shirt and feeling faint. This was too much, surely, a handout there was no way Atsushi deserved.
It wasn’t like Atsushi had no money at all to afford clothes, though she certainly couldn’t afford these clothes — it was more that she had never felt like it was something she should spend her money on, when there were more important things, like taking Kyouka out to get boiled tofu. So all she really owned were a couple pairs of work clothes, and some clothes for lounging in at home. That was more than enough, more than she had ever had before. Atsushi hadn’t even thought about needing nicer clothes for the cruise; she would have visited a charity shop if had known, and saved everyone the trouble. Which she had already tried to explain to Chuuya, only to be told to shut up.
“I said shut the fuck up. No arguing.” Chuuya paused, pulling a shirt off the rack and holding it up to Atsushi, looking at her with a scrutiny that made her feel nervous. She had done this a couple times now, and had several shirts already draped over her arm for Atsushi to try on. “Do you only wear pants, or do you like dresses too?”
“Uh. I don’t really know?” Atsushi had never worn a dress. She never would have gotten such an item in the orphanage, and now if she ever needed something fancy, she borrowed it from Dazai, who only wore suits.
“Hmm. Well I’ll buy you a couple and you can see if you like them. Come on, let’s look at the pants now.”
“I— I really can’t accept—”
“Whatever stupid shit you’re going to say, I don’t want to fucking hear it. You need some real clothes for this mission, and it’s not your fault you work for Yokohama’s cheapest bastards, apparently. Or that that idiot Dazai never taught you how to dress properly.” Chuuya paused again to read the label on a pair of light tan trousers, nodding with seeming satisfaction at whatever it was she read. “And I swear to fucking god, if you try and pay me back after this cruise, I’m going to kick your fucking ass.”
“Nakahara-san—”
“And cut it out with that ‘Nakahara’ business! It’s Chuuya, got it?” Chuuya threw the pair of pants over her arm, the stack of clothes for Atsushi to try on steadily growing. “Just let me know if you ever want a job that will actually pay you what you’re worth.”
“Chuuya! It’s not nice to try and poach my subordinates!” Dazai popped out from between some racks, wearing a pair of fancy sunglasses, with cat-eye frames studded with rhinestones. “Atsushi, do I look good in these?”
“Uh…”
“What does it matter?” sneered Chuuya, shooting a withering glance her way. “It’s not like you can afford them, you broke bitch.”
“Does that mean Chuuya thinks I do look good in them?”
“No way. Nothing looks good with your freaky bandage look.”
Not eager to just keep watching the two women argue, Atsushi glanced around for anything else to pay attention to. Across the room she spotted Akutagawa, stiffly hovering near the entrance of the boutique, arms crossed as she waited for them to be done. Atsushi did feel bad, holding everyone up like this, and she wondered how pathetic this made her seem to Akutagawa. She clearly didn’t have any issue affording clothes, so Atsushi’s humble life was probably a source of amusement for the mafiosa.
Atsushi was broken from her thoughts by a sharp smack to the back of her head, making her yelp and jump.
“Try these on,” commanded Chuuya, thrusting two pairs of pants and four different colored shirts into Atsushi’s arms. “Tell me if we need a different size for anything. While you try those on I’ll pick out some dresses.”
“I’m— I’m sure I won’t need so many, Chuuya-san,” sputtered Atsushi, still feeling like she had to at least try and refuse this. It was just too much, too much that Atsushi didn’t deserve. “I’m sure just a couple shirts would be enough—”
“You’re going to need more than a couple outfits if you’re going to fit in with Akutagawa at dinner,” said Chuuya as she shoved the girl towards the fitting room — and Atsushi blinked.
“Why do I need to fit in with Akutagawa?”
“Oh Atsushi-kun, did I not mention that?” Dazai’s sing-song voice filled Atsushi with dread, as she popped up again from behind Chuuya, having abandoned the fancy sunglasses. “It’s just part of the plan, nothing out of the ordinary. Just another little team up with Akutagawa.”
“Dazai-san, you haven’t told me anything about the plan!”
Chuuya gave a weary sigh, clapping a hand on Atsushi’s shoulder. “Of course she didn’t, manipulative bitch. Think about my job offer, kid.”
“But I don’t understand, what kind of team up mission requires us to eat dinner together?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” Dazai was grinning in a way that Atsushi associated with danger. “This cruise line does cater to couples, you know.”
Shit. There was no way — except, this was Dazai, and this was exactly like something Dazai would do. “You don’t mean—”
“That’s exactly what she means,” sighed Chuuya, shoving Atsushi into the fitting room. “Try on the clothes, I’ll make her give you two a full rundown after sail-away.”
“Alright!” announced Dazai cheerily, having finally succeeded in hooking up her Agency laptop to the cruise ship television, sharing the computer screen onto the TV. “Gather round, it’s mission briefing time!”
They decidedly did not need to gather any further around, considering they were four adults cramped into Dazai’s small interior cabin. Akutagawa was stiffly sitting in an armchair in the corner, and Dazai at a small built-in desk, tapping away at the laptop, leaving Atsushi to perch awkwardly at the foot of the bed. Chuuya was standing, or rather leaning, looking very stylish and very bored as she leaned against the stateroom wall.
Atsushi was glad she at least didn’t have to share a room with Dazai. In fact, a 9-foot wide room all to herself felt kind of luxurious to Atsushi, after sleeping in the closet for so many months. She had checked on her own stateroom earlier, basically identical to Dazai’s, and it had a double bed, a high ceiling, and a private bathroom, which was enough to impress Atsushi. It was almost enough to make her forget her lingering sense of dread.
Almost. Atsushi could swear she could feel Akutagawa’s glare burning at the back of her skull, but she refused to turn back to look at her. At least now she had some idea why the woman was already mad at her, though it still felt unfair. It hadn’t been Atsushi’s idea, she hadn’t even known.
“Alright,” began Dazai, pulling up a picture on the screen, the image of a woman, taken through a crowd of people. She had long red hair that spilled down to her waist and was dressed in a well-tailored black suit, painted red lips open as she spoke to someone just out of frame. “This is Natalie Barney, an American heiress and socialite, 29 years old, a beta, 176 centimeters tall, red hair, brown eyes. Rumor has it she also has a special ability, but nothing is known about that at the time. What we do know is that Miss Barney has been a very busy woman.”
A click, and another photo of the same woman came up, this time speaking in front of a crowd.
“Now, officially Natalie Barney is a motivational speaker of sorts. She hosts conferences for other women, about being independent and fulfilled or whatever it is people want — but rumor has it Miss Barney has an inner circle of devoted followers who have been making moves in the underground. There wasn’t much evidence, until…”
“Until the bitch decided to rip off the Port Mafia,” grumbled Chuuya, but Dazai ignored her as she pulled up another image — this the image from a security feed, the inside of a dark empty warehouse, and standing in the center, a woman holding a softly glowing cigarette. She wasn’t Barney, she looked shorter, straight blonde hair falling into her face, obstructing it from view.
“This is the image from inside a Port Mafia warehouse, the night before a rather large shipment of black market art was supposed to ship out, about two months ago. Pop quiz, Atsushi-kun!” Dazai pointed a finger at her subordinate. “What’s missing from this image?”
“Uh, the art—”
“Correct, ding ding ding!” Dazai pointed back up at the screen. “This is P. Highsmith. She’s an ability user with a reputation in the underground — as well she should, considering she made off with ten billion yen worth of art out from under the Port Mafia’s noses. Not much about her is known, beyond her skill as a criminal. According to the security footage my dear slug provided, a whole warehouse full of crates disappeared in less than ten seconds.”
Dazai pulled up a video this time, from the same angle the still frame had been. It started off inside the warehouse, large shipping crates filling the dark room, when all of a sudden all of the crates seemed to be consumed with light, so bright the camera screen went white for a moment, until the light began to shrink down, shrinking and shrinking until it was only the size of a person — and then the light was a person. Highsmith materialized from the light with her back facing the camera, before turning to make eye contact, smirking softly as she brought her cigarette to her mouth before the clip froze, the video finishing.
“And here she is—” Another click, another picture. “—talking to Natalie Barney, the day before this little heist took place.”
Sure enough, it was the same woman, standing close to Natalie Barney, though in this picture Atsushi could get a better look at Highsmith’s face, though her long blonde bangs still covered one side of her face. She had sharp, thin features, a gloved hand holding a cigarette raised to her lips as she leaned in close to the red-headed woman in the photo clearly listening to whatever it was she was saying.
“Now, there isn't hard evidence that Barney is involved, but the coincidences are getting harder to deny,” explained Dazai. “Either she’s been getting involved in crime, or Miss Natalie here has had some awfully bad luck with who she chooses to be friends with.”
“Barney’s associates have been getting more involved in the black market art trade,” Chuuya added, voice dark with obvious anger. “Nothing that can officially be connected to her, of course, but they’re all women who associate with her, showing up in underground auctions and that shit. This is the first time one of them has done something stupid like cross the Port Mafia.”
“Have any of the stolen items shown back up in the black market?”
Atsushi startled, turning back to look at Akutagawa. It was the first thing she had said since they came in here. She sat stiffly in the armchair, sunglasses still on despite the lack of windows in the cabin. At least Akutagawa didn’t give her a death glare, though she did seem to be avoiding looking at Atsushi at all.
“No,” answered Chuuya. “My guys have been monitoring every auction and sale we can, but none of them have shown up.”
“Which leaves a few possibilities,” mused Dazai, bouncing her legs in her seat. “Maybe they haven’t sold any of the art, or maybe they have, through private channels. If they haven’t sold the art, it could be that they’re waiting for a certain buyer or price point, but still are planning on selling them. That would mean they’re after money, as would selling them privately, though, of course how they intend to use that money is still a mystery. On the other hand, maybe they haven’t sold any of the stolen art because they don’t intend to sell any.”
“What could their motivation be to do that?” asked Atsushi, turning back to look up at the image on the screen, of Barney and Highsmith conversing about something.
“Ah, I wonder… you remember what Fukuzawa said people were calling this group, right Atsushi?”
“The Cult of Sappho, right?”
Dazai nodded. “They wouldn’t call themselves that, I’m sure, but the cult part comes from Natalie Barney herself. She’s gained the reputation for being somewhat of the ‘charismatic leader’ type. As for Sappho… She’s a legendary poet and ability user, who disappeared a long time ago. There have been rumors for a long time that she left clues to the truth behind her disappearance in various works of art, but of course nothing has been substantiated. And importantly for us, Miss Natalie is known for being quite the fan of Sappho. Of course, this is still all speculation, which is where this undercover mission comes in.”
Atsushi nodded thoughtfully. It made sense, except…
“Okay,” sighed Atsushi. “But why does any of this mean Akutagawa and I need to pretend to be a couple?”
“Ah, isn’t it obvious?” Dazai was wiggling excitedly in her chair. “One thing Sappho discussed often in her poems was the beauty of the love between women. All types of women, but she did say that the existence of female alphas was proof that women could live independent of men. The legend was that she wanted to create a country of only women, but of course she disappeared instead. Too bad, really, I'd love to be on an island with nothing but pretty women–”
“Get to the point, you perverted mackerel,” interrupted Chuuya harshly, rolling her eyes.
“Yeah yeah, well, as Sappho’s number one fan Miss Barney takes that very seriously herself. She only associates with women, and not just in her art thieving endeavors. We don't know who all aboard is connected to her, but we do know she has an inner circle of women, many of whom are either her lovers, or each other’s, who will probably be aboard. To infiltrate that inner circle and hopefully get any information, it’ll be best to obviously seem like someone who shares her proclivities.”
“But why does that mean Akutagawa and I have to pretend to be a couple?” insisted Atsushi. “I mean, wouldn't you be a better choice? You flirt with women all the time, Dazai-san.”
“Yes, women do find me irresistible,” agreed Dazai, which made Chuuya retch. “The infiltration will be easiest as a couple though, and no one would ever believe I was dating a tiny little stupid slug like Chuuya . Also she said no. Besides, this will be a great opportunity to practice your teamwork! And your acting!”
Atsushi was not convinced. Turning, she looked back at Akutagawa again. “And you agreed to this?”
Akutagawa gave her a look of disgust from behind her sunglasses. “Of course I did, Weretiger.”
“Of course she did,” echoed Dazai, her tone dancing on the edge of being mocking — which meant that Akutagawa had only agreed because Dazai pushed her into it. “It's a good plan!”
Atsushi had her doubts.
“Would it kill you to act a little bit less like you totally hate me?”
Akutagawa glowered at Atsushi, snapping shut the menu she had been looking at. “I’m having a meal with you, aren’t I?”
Wearily, Atsushi sighed.
“Akutagawa, I’m just as unhappy about this as you—”
“Who said anything about being unhappy? I’m fine, Weretiger.” It was delivered with a glare and sharp tone that made the assertion seem false. Atsushi rolled her eyes, but tried to plow forward.
“I’m just saying, we don’t have to act lovey-dovey, but could you at least pretend to like me? I’m supposed to be your girlfriend.”
Akutagawa gave her a condescending look. “I don’t see why our masquerading as a couple means I have to like you. Perhaps I’m mad at you. Perhaps you’re a bad girlfriend.”
“What? Why am I a bad girlfriend?”
“You never pay on our dates, you never ask me how my day is, and you forgot my birthday,” answered Akutagawa, with a deadly straight face. Atsushi sputtered, surprisingly insulted by how fast Akutagawa had come up with all that.
“If I’m such a bad girlfriend why are you going on vacation with me?”
Akutagawa hummed, taking a sip of her water. “Perhaps I’m trying to salvage the relationship.”
“Well you’re doing a bad job,” huffed Atsushi. “You’ve never even told me your birthday.”
“Please Weretiger, you’re a detective. Must I do everything for you?”
Atsushi opened her mouth to respond, but it was at that moment their waiter, a tall man with sandy hair, swooped back over to their table.
“Do you ladies know what you want?” asked the man in English. Most of the tourists on the cruise were from English-speaking countries, so it was the main language on board. Atsushi, for her part, had been practicing English with Lucy, so was able to get through most service interactions so far, but she was having a harder time with reading. For example, she realized, glancing down to try and actually look at it, the menu.
“Uh—“
“She will have the New York strip steak,” Akutagawa said decisively and in flawless English, plucking the menu from Atsushi’s hands. “And I will have the grilled red snapper.”
“Of course, Ma’am. Those will be right out.” The waiter nodded agreeably as he took the menus from Akutagawa. He hurried away, and an awkward silence loomed over them. Desperate to lighten the mood, Atsushi broke it.
“Your English is really good,” she tried cautiously.
“Yes, Dazai-san used to have standards when it came to what she expected her apprentices to know,” Akutagawa sniped back. Atsushi sighed. Of course she couldn’t even give Akutagawa a compliment without the woman managing to make it about Dazai again. Dazai wasn’t even here, having abandoned Atsushi to eat dinner with Chuuya, insisting that to be convincing as a young couple Atsushi and Akutagawa had to eat alone.
Like anyone would ever actually believe they were actually a couple. They surely looked mismatched, Atsushi in her just purchased clothes and messy hair that never wanted to stay tied up, while Akutagawa looked like — well, Akutagawa. Atsushi had always thought Akutagawa was pretty, if in a kind of creepy way, with her pale skin and large dark eyes, giving her a doll-like quality that struck a balance between attractive and unnerving. When they had been nothing but enemies, it had just kind of pissed Atsushi off, because it wasn’t fair that someone so awful and violent had flawless skin and delicate features. Now, as sometimes-allies, Atsushi was able to admit to herself that maybe she was a little jealous.
She had wondered, sometimes, if it was being an omega that allowed Akutagawa to look so effortlessly pretty even in the middle of battle. Or maybe it was the other way around, and Atsushi only thought Akutagawa looked so pretty because of her stupid alpha brain. In the orphanage, the adults had always told her alphas were stupid, especially around omegas, which was why Atsushi wasn’t allowed with the other children. Of course, she knew now that there was a different reason she was being kept from the other children, but it was still something she worried about, being a stupid alpha. Of course Dazai was an alpha, and she was the smartest person Atsushi had ever met, but Dazai was a thoroughly unique individual. Atsushi tried to emulate her mentor in that way at least, but she couldn’t help thinking that no matter what, she would just be a strong and stupid alpha.
Atsushi huffed to herself, taking a sip of her coffee and trying to cast away her self-deprecating thoughts. This was still supposed to be a job, and if Atsushi felt any pride in herself at all, it was in her work ethic.
“Look,” she said, trying to get the conversation back on track. “We at least need to get our story straight, on who we are as a couple. We need to be prepared in case anyone asks us questions.”
Akutagawa scowled, but didn’t snap at Atsushi, at least. “What did you have in mind, Weretiger?”
“Well, you know… How did we first meet? How long have we been dating? Stuff like that.”
Akutagawa hummed thoughtfully, relaxing just a little, so subtly someone who hadn’t spent a lot of time analyzing her body movements in battle probably wouldn’t have noticed. “First meeting… Well, why not say we met in a cafe? That’s normal enough.”
Atsushi nodded, glad that they were actually getting somewhere without Akutagawa insulting her. “Okay. Why did we start talking at the cafe?”
“Hmm… Perhaps I notice how you put too much sugar in your coffee.”
Atsushi, who had of course ordered coffee with dinner and put in three sugar cubes, blushed. “What? So our first meeting is you making fun of me?”
“Don’t be stupid, Weretiger. Obviously I say something because I do the same thing.” Akutagawa paused, then added: “Though I don’t drink much coffee. I prefer tea.”
“Oh.” Was that true, she wondered, that Akutagawa liked to sweeten her tea? “Okay, that’s pretty good. So, that’s how we met, but how did it progress? Did we start dating right away, or were we friends first?”
Akutagawa gave Atsushi a look that she could only describe as sly. “That depends. When would you ask me out?”
“Why is it me asking you out?”
“You’re the alpha, aren’t you?” Akutagawa said, waving a hand dismissively.
“That’s so old-fashioned,” complained Atsushi, but thought about it anyway. It was weird, trying to imagine asking Akutagawa out on a date. In real life, Akutagawa would probably stab her if she ever tried such a thing — but she supposed this wasn’t about real life, and instead the alternate, hypothetical versions of the Atsushi and Akutagawa who were a couple on vacation together. Would this alternate version of herself be bolder, bold enough to ask Akutagawa to be her girlfriend?
Atsushi frowned, cheeks still hot with embarrassment. “Well… maybe we would be friends for a while first, then.”
Akutagawa gave her a patronizing look. “What, would you be too shy, Weretiger?”
“No!” lied Atsushi. “It’s your stupidly straight face that would throw me off! I would probably think you hated me at first, since glaring is basically your default.”
Akutagawa glared. “That isn’t my problem. If we’re to be compatible romantic partners you should be able to read me better than that.”
“Well I’m still not going to ask you out right away! I’d want to get to know you first,” huffed Atsushi. “Besides, I thought I was a bad girlfriend?”
Akutagawa had the audacity to roll her eyes at Atsushi. “Fine, we started as just friends. How long, before that changed, then?”
“That depends, is the you I’m dating nicer to me than the actual you?”
“Haha,” deadpanned Akutagawa. “Just pick a timeframe, Weretiger.”
“Okay, how about four months?”
“I suppose that’s acceptable,” sighed Akutagawa, like Atsushi was somehow greatly inconveniencing her by making her wait in this entirely made up scenario. “We probably ought to have been dating for at least a year. It wouldn’t be reasonable to be going on this vacation if it were less than that. Do we live together?”
Atsushi again tried to imagine this version of themselves who were dating, a version of herself who had been friends and then girlfriends with Akutagawa for over a year. It was weird. “I don’t know. You live with your sister, right? Would you really move out to live with me instead?”
Akutagawa hummed. “No, I would not. Perhaps that is one of the reasons we’re fighting.”
Atsushi groaned tiredly. “Or you could just put any amount of effort into pretending not to hate me.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Weretiger.”
“That’s another thing — should you be calling me that? We’re supposed to be undercover, but you keep practically name-dropping my ability. Someone could hear.”
Akutagawa gave one of her condescending looks. “No one on this cruise is Japanese apart from us, Dazai-san and Chuuya-san, and your doctor. How many of the British and American tourists do you really think speak enough Japanese that they understand that I’m calling you Weretiger ?”
“I just think this whole thing would be more convincing if you actually call me my name,” insisted Atsushi.
“I disagree. Weretiger can just be my… affectionate nickname for you.” The word ‘affectionate’ was delivered so sarcastically it made Atsushi cringe.
“This is going to be a disaster,” sighed Atsushi. “I can’t believe Dazai is making me do this.”
“Don’t question Dazai-san’s planning, Weretiger,” snapped Akutagawa, because of course she did. Luckily for Atsushi’s sanity though, before she could respond and inevitably get into another argument with Akutagawa, the waiter arrived with their meals. And Atsushi could admit — Akutagawa had managed to order her something she liked.
“Atsushi!” cheered Dazai, sneaking up on them as they left the restaurant and clapping a hand on each of their shoulders. “Don’t you think you and Akutagawa-chan here ought to share a room? You know, for the mission and all that.”
Atsushi groaned as Akutagawa noticeably froze and blushed, seemingly embarrassed at being called that, not to mention the rest of what Dazai said. “Dazai-san—” she began, but didn’t get to finish.
“Leave them alone, idiot mackerel,” Chuuya sneered, following behind Dazai and moving to kick at Dazai’s ankles, which the woman had to jump forward to avoid, letting go of her subordinates in the process. “They just need to be seen going down the same hallway, and their rooms are already next to each other.”
“Chuuya is such a brute, attacking a lady like me! I just think our two little lovebirds would be more convincing if they tried a little method acting.”
“Gross!” snarled Chuuya, and Atsushi had to raise her voice to try and interrupt their bickering.
“Dazai-san, I’m not sure this plan is a good plan,” Atsushi said, taking a moment to glance at Akutagawa, who hadn’t unfrozen yet. “I don’t know if anyone would ever believe Akutagawa and I are actually dating. You saw us at dinner, right?”
Finally Akutagawa unfroze, even if it was to whip her head around to glare at Atsushi. “What was wrong with the dinner? It went fine.”
“Yeah, Atsushi-kun, it went fine!” parroted Dazai smugly. “Akutagawa doesn’t have any problem with my great plan, right Akutagawa-chan?”
Akutagawa flushed pinker, looking even more embarrassed each time Dazai called her that, but she still straightened her back and nodded resolutely. “I’ll do anything you ask of me, Dazai-san.”
Atsushi frowned, probably mirroring Akutagawa’s own default expression. Atsushi knew Akutagawa hated this plan. It was obvious, in everything from how she spoke to the way she glared at Atsushi, but since it had been Dazai’s idea she was just going along with it, contrarily pretending everything was going well. Just like Akutagawa obviously wasn't comfortable with being called ‘Akutagawa-chan’, but refused to say that to Dazai. It was irritating, because normally Akutagawa was so forthright and blunt, making the way she acted around Dazai so dissonant it actually annoyed Atsushi. Not to mention that Dazai would be easier to deal with if Akutagawa just stood up to her.
“No, the kid is right,” said Chuuya. “The only type of couple you two look like is maybe a couple on the verge of breaking up. Maybe.”
“Boo!” called Dazai. “Don't be so negative, chibi! Poor Atsushi and Akutagawa are just going through a rough patch, but I believe in the power of love.”
“They have to be convincing to Barney, not a delusional bitch like you.” Chuuya sighed deeply, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Look, if they can make it through the event tomorrow, maybe this will work, but I gotta say Dazai — this is your worst plan yet.”
“What's the event tomorrow?”
“A meet up, of course. Ah, I almost forgot!” Dazai paused, pulling a small paperback out of her coat pocket - a different book than her usual suicide manual - and thrust it towards Atsushi. “For you! You’ll be getting this signed for me tomorrow.”
Atsushi peered at the cover, before flipping it over to look at the black and white author photo of Natalie Barney on the back. “It's in… French?”
“Mmhmm.” Dazai nodded. “ ‘Cinq Petits Dialogues’ . It's an essay collection Barney published a few years back, but it's still quite popular among her fans.”
“Your pronunciation is awful,” complained Chuuya. “Why does she write in French, if she's American?”
“She's lived in France, on and off,” explained Dazai, waving a hand. “But really, what's more American than being obsessed with another country? Anyway, tomorrow night Natalie Barney is slated to do a little talk and meet up with her fans. Normally Miss Barney is hard to get access to, but you and your dear girlfriend Akutagawa-chan will be here to get that signed after her talk.”
“Won't it be obvious if neither of us have read the book, though?”
“Not if the book was a gift you haven't had the chance to read yet. What you’ll say is that you're a fan because you’ve watched videos of her lectures — don't worry about specifics, you’ll get the idea after watching her talk — and your kind and attentive senpai gifted this to you to get signed. Easy as that!”
Atsushi looked back down at the black and white author photo on the book. Unlike the candid photos Dazai had shown of her, in this one Natalie Barney was looking straight into the camera, her eyes dark and intense. Atsushi tried to imagine looking in those eyes and lying — and got anxious just thinking about it. “I don't know if I'm the right person for this job, Dazai.”
“Don't be so hard on yourself, Atsushi-kun! Really, all I need from you is to make contact with Barney’s inner circle. I can take it from there.”
“If you're sure…”
“When have I been unsure about anything?”
“I'm going to kick your ass if this all ends up being a waste of time,” Chuuya grumbled, glaring at Dazai. “Especially if it's because you set us up for failure by refusing to share your information with your own fucking subordinate.”
Dazai affected a stricken look, putting her hand over her heart. “Chuuya! When have I ever let you down?”
“ Don't make me answer that.”
“How about this? I bet by the time this job wraps up, I'll have a location for Chuuya to investigate about the whereabouts of your missing loot. Would that make you happy?”
“It would make me happy to kill you, bitch.”
“Well, if you win the bet that's what you can ask for!”
“Right,” sighed Atsushi, exhausted at the prospect of listening to this kind of bickering the whole cruise. “I'm going to my room now.”
“Yes, me too,” said Akutagawa, looking equally ready to get away from their superiors — and since their cabins were across the hall from each other, that meant the two of them walked back to their deck together, in awkward silence. At least, Atsushi supposed, Chuuya was right that it made them look more like a couple — though she still didn't know if that would ever be believable. Still, when they reached their respective doors, Atsushi hesitated, watching as Akutagawa pulled out her cruise card to unlock her door.
“Goodnight, Akutagawa,” she said, feeling awkward as soon as the words left her mouth. Akutagawa looked back at her blankly, before rolling her eyes again.
“I'll see you tomorrow, Weretiger.”
And then Akutagawa disappeared into her own room, the door closing behind her with a heavy thud.