Chapter Text
Kyouka had never truly understood love. Not in the sense of familial love or camaraderie, the one people always spoke of. The “till death do us part” and a true soulmate that you only find once in your life. Someone whom you loved in a way above a friend and ,from what Kyouka had observed, was closer to a God.
She knew of such love and she knew people who had experienced it, even in places like the Mafia where light was completely denied- Love would still grow. It was an oxymoron in Kyouka’s mind. That something people perceived as pure could fester and develop in places you least expected.
Her keeper, Kouyou, had loved once. However, it had ended fatally for her. So, perhaps love could grow anywhere but you could not change the land it grew on, for toxic soil creates a wilted plant. A doomed love.
Yet people still sought it out despite the often ugly consequences.
She’d watched numerous romance films in hopes of understanding this desire people had towards love but she failed to sympathise with the characters at every turn. Atsushi didn’t though. She could tell when they’d watch those types of films, that he just naturally understood it all. He’d have this soft smile on his face and longing look in his eyes.
It had made her curious. So one day she asked, “Atsushi, have you ever loved someone?”
He’d spat out his drink and wiped his mouth laughing, “…Yes. Of course. I love you, the Agency-“
“No not like that,” Kyouka had interjected, “I mean romantically. As in, someone you marry.”
“Like a partner?”
“Yes.”
Atsushi had pondered a moment longer and sighed, “I…haven’t. It’s quite a difficult thing for someone like me. If I ever married someone though, I wouldn’t want to go through a divorce. I’d only ever like to marry once. I’d want to be sure we loved only each other like that. ‘Till death do us part’ as they say.”
Kyouka didn’t press any further. She’d gained a lot of insight from that. Atsushi had glaring self-esteem issues. For him to acknowledge he loved someone like that, the person would have to be truly one of a kind. Kyouka couldn’t really imagine it happening.
Although, she’d considered a part of her didn’t want Atsushi to find such a person. She liked Atsushi as he was. If he found someone like that then, what if he changed? What if he wouldn’t value her as much anymore? She was aware how childish it sounded but she’d lost so many people in the past.
Losing someone while they’re still alive,knowing you could have done something to change that outcome, had to be the worst in Kyouka’s opinion.
Kyouka doesn’t pontificate on such a situation like Atsushi abandoning her without good reason. Thus, her current predicament. In recent weeks, such ideas have been creeping into her head. It had started with a small, insignificant at the time, incident.
A phone call. A minuscule one that lasted roughly two minutes.
Kyouka had been sat in the Agency with everyone else as they toiled away at paperwork that seemed to suck away your soul. Being under eighteen, Kyouka and Kenji rarely were involved in much paperwork outside of giving statements for the others to record in a report.
Nonetheless, Kyouka was sat watching Atsushi finish up before lunch when his phone rang. A little confused himself, Atsushi picked it up and registered the number on his screen. Upon seeing it, he quickly excused himself outside where he took the phone call for those two minutes.
Kyouka likely wouldn’t have thought much of this had every Agency member not been in the office that day. Atsushi’s contacts were limited to the Agency, Government Officials and Lucy, who worked in the café downstairs. All of which would not have evoked the reaction they did.
Any Agency member he would simply answer in the room, as he would a Government Official as it pertained to work. Lucy was the most likely option, had Kyouka not been aware she was also working that day. If Lucy wanted him she’d simply storm upstairs and declare what she wants.
Furthermore, his reaction was unlike anything she’d seen before. Despite his initial surprise, he had a soft smile on his face as he walked out of the room. Not just soft. No, Atsushi always had such a smile on his face- he was pleased. Maybe even a little excited at the phone call.
A part of her considered she was overanalysing this until he returned and Dazai, the ever curious man, asked, “Atsushi- Who was that?”
Without missing a beat, Atsushi deflected, “Just a wrong number. Are you free after this?”
Dazai raised an eyebrow, a growing interest on his face as he hummed, “I am. Are you going to tell me about your secret girlfriend~?”
Shaking his head, Atsushi’s cheeks flushed red as he yelled, “Oh c’mon! It’s not like that!”
There was a silent exchange between Dazai and Ranpo for a moment. So brief that if Kyouka didn’t have them both in her line of sight she would have missed it. It took her some time to conclude what that exchange was about. In fact, it had been a week or two later after similar occurrences when she had revisited this memory. She eventually realised that Atsushi had slipped up. Dazai had trapped him in his own words.
“The way in which someone phrases things can tell you a lot,” Dazai had explained to her once, “Body mannerisms and expressions are always important but can be easily manipulated. The language someone uses isn’t so easily changed.”
She suspected that moment was one such occasion. The major give away of his lie was the use of present tense. Had it really been a wrong number Atsushi would just say “It wasn’t like that” or “It really was just a phone call” both insinuate that it’s something that has passed instead of it being something ongoing. It’s small and possibly pedantic but it’s those sort of subconscious word choices that give away a person’s intentions. At least, that’s what Dazai says.
From that revelation onward, Kyouka observed Atsushi’s behaviour more closely. His phone calls became more frequent and the look in his eyes when he saw the number was unfamiliar to her. The thought to check who it was while he was asleep was becoming an ever growing possibility. She didn’t want to overstep boundaries though. What if Atsushi got angry with her because of it? Would he hate her for it?
Then, something surprising happened.
———
“Here,” Atsushi beamed with a clear sense of pride, “A gift.”
On the slightly broken wooden table between them, was a beautifully wrapped gift in pink paper and a satin ribbon. Her eyes glimmered at the sight, all too eager to look inside. However, her mind was still questioning it.
Atsushi had often spoiled Kyouka. That wasn’t the surprising part. The surprise was that Kyouka knew he couldn’t afford this. They barely had the funds for groceries last week yet he’d somehow found the funds for a gift?
“What is it?” she asked.
He pouted pushing it forward, “If I told you it wouldn’t be a surprise.”
Kyouka nodded. Her hand lingered a moment as she considered whether this was a good thing. He seemed so excited to show her it but she still felt concerned about it all. Glancing upward, she sensed a hint of nervousness from Atsushi trying to gouge what her reaction may be. Whatever this was clearly meant something. Taking one last look at him, Kyouka sighed as she pulled the ribbon to unravel what was inside.
It was a rabbit. A small rabbit plush in a petite black dress and bow. It had little shoes that shined in the generally dim light. She stared at it for a moment and it stared back. It reminded her of a time long past.
Then, Atsushi spoke up sheepishly, “…So? Do you like it?”
“I…do,” Kyouka forced out. She did like it. She loved it, in fact. Anything from Atsushi was worth treasuring.
A wave of relief washed over Atsushi, his smile now brighter than ever. He clasped his hands together as he spoke, “I’m glad! I saw it in a shop window while I was out and it reminded me of that rabbit we won on the claw machine. But then-“
Atsushi’s smile faltered as he likely recalled what Kyouka had been thinking of the entire time. The rabbit from the fair ground back when Kyouka had planned to hand herself over to police at the end of the day. Even if she only lived in the light briefly she wanted it to mean something. If her death could bring that then she’d do it.
Until, Akutagawa attacked. He’d pierced Atsushi’s chest and flung him into a nearby truck. His hand had rooted itself around her head like the claw of an animal selecting its prey. The stuffed rabbit had been abandoned in all the chaos.
She was no longer afraid of Akutagawa. In fact, that was the last time his presence caused her dread (at least, the last time she allowed it to dictate her life). Yet, the fear in her memories was still so vivid. Her grip tightened ever so slightly on the rabbit.
“I’m sorry, Kyouka. If you don’t want it I’ll get rid of it or-! If it makes you feel better we can burn it?” Atsushi was apprehensive but she appreciated his attempt to reassure. He always had the oddest solution to these things.
She stifled a laugh, “No. I’ll keep it. Thank you.”
Atsushi’s smile relaxed as he leaned over the table to ruffle her hair with a playful tone in his voice, “If you ever change your mind, let me know. I’ll be out there with a lighter in seconds.”
A warmness spread throughout her chest as she nodded along with his words, her clutch on the rabbit growing. Security was something she hadn’t felt in a long time. Here, she didn’t need to worry about it at all because with Atsushi it was a guarantee.
Then, the phone rang. Again. He picked it up with that sappy smile of his and Kyouka, giving in to weeks of curiosity, tried to glean a glimpse of the number. Her mind registered the string of numbers as her heart pounded. It was familiar.
Instantly, her face drained of any colour. All of the warmness in her chest was now replaced with a strain around her heart. She recognised it, how couldn’t she? Not just that, she had that number engraved into her memory.
“I’m going to take this. I’ll be back in a minute, okay?” Atsushi said with his usual sweet tone, clearly not noticing Kyouka’s reaction (or if he did he didn’t show it).
He waited for her response and she eventually forced a nod. After he’d gone out, Kyouka sat there convincing herself she’d misread it. That her eyes had deceived her and her past was simply tormenting her. She came up with millions of excuses to explain what she’d saw.
To explain why Atsushi had looked at Akutagawa’s number on his phone with such a fondness that sickened her.
Logically, she knew Atsushi might have had Akutagawa’s number. With them now being partners and everything they’d been through it would have been weirder not to. However, she hadn’t considered that their relationship would develop like…this.
There was always the possibility that it was simply professional or that the person Atsushi had been calling so frequently was someone different. Who knows? Maybe this was the first time Akutagawa had called and Kyouka had misunderstood. Yet the look in Atsushi’s eyes just didn’t sit right with her.
Atsushi was someone who wore his feelings proudly on his sleeve and had the ability to drag those repressed feelings out of others. The small glimmer in his eyes and the playful curl of his lips was an expression she’d never seen him give to anyone else.
Her gaze fell to the rabbit in her hands as she stared into the pits of its eyes and it stared back.
They both knew the answer.
An irrational fear arose in her as she darted to where Atsushi was, calling out for him.
“Atsushi!”
She stumbled through the door, slightly breathless from her panic, and Atsushi flinched seeing her burst in. His cheeks looked damp. He was by her side in seconds.
“Kyouka? What happened?” Atsushi spoke, his voice tender as he knelt before her.
Kyouka scattered to find an excuse as she muttered, “Uhm…There- I…I saw a spider.”
Atsushi blinked a few times and then he laughed, “Oh, is that all? I can help with that.”
“But…your phone call-“
“They can wait,” he scoffed, waving his hand flippantly, “You’re my priority.”
Kyouka picked at the rabbit’s eyes between her fingers as she questioned him doubtfully, “Always?”
“Always,” he assured.
His words were enough, for now.
The calls didn’t stop though and the vulnerable look in his eyes only seemed to grow. The calls continued on an upward climb of frequency and had started bleeding into little “disappearances” for hours. As much as Kyouka could tell Atsushi wanted to continue to accommodate her, he was evidently struggling to split his time.
All of this continued until it inevitably reached a climax where neither could ignore the gaping black hole in the room that had been consuming their lives for the last few weeks.
———
It had been a work night where Atsushi had been on the field with a few other members while Kyouka had done paperwork from the Agency building. After she’d finished, she’d returned to their shared communal space to cook dinner.
The aroma of the dishes flooded all other senses. She stirred, prepped and happily made everything. Atsushi had said he’d be home at a reasonable time. That they’d eat together after the mission was over.
Once she’d finished, she’d gone to set up the table. Rotating the bowls to the right angle, placing the cutlery at its side and taking in the aroma of the food. She was rather proud of herself. With a smile, she’d sat on one side of the table and waited. It was impolite to eat without the other person present. Furthermore, she looked forward to their dinners where they would talk of their week and discuss mindless topics. It was something that didn’t happen all the time and was a special occasion to her.
However, that’s not how things worked out.
One hour passed and another hour and another and another…Her leg had started to cramp and her mind had grown dreary. The rabbit sat in the corner of the room as though mocking her.
“He’ll show up. Just you see,” she thought.
By the time the door clicked, it had been four hours fifty five minutes and twenty eight seconds. The food was cold and Kyouka could feel her head bobbing as her fatigued body started giving into its exhaustion.
Atsushi rushed into the room and sat by her side, holding her face with a guilty expression.
“I’m so sorry, Kyouka- I completely forgot. This is all my fault,” he apologised to her over and over. She didn’t blame him. Atsushi had a life outside of Kyouka. It didn’t surprise her when things like this happened. Yet, it didn’t erase a deep sting in she felt in her heart.
“C’mon, you’re tired. Let’s get you to bed,” Atsushi eventually said amongst his apologies.
She vaguely remembered being advised to rest but Kyouka didn’t really remember much else after drearily dragging herself to the futon next door. However, one thing she did recall was a faint tune, a tune that brought back distant memories of her mother. Both their voices as smooth and sweet as fresh honey. Each note of the song an intoxication into sleep. Her head nestled on their lap as they stroked loose strands between their fingers.
Briefly, her eyelashes had fluttered open as the blurred image of a mother entered her vision. In her delirium, she reached up, only grasping the collar of the person and whimpered, “Please. Please don’t leave me. I need you to stay.”
Her body rolled into the person’s chest as their hand halted in her hair. For a moment, she was scared to open her eyes in case they’d disappear but instead she felt the gentle reassurance of a kiss on her forehead.
The next morning was worse than she’d expected. Slumping up from the futon, she saw Atsushi sat devotedly at her side in a similar state to herself from last night. His eyes were red and puffy with dark circles underneath as he fidgeted with muck beneath his nails. He was tapping his foot against the floor as he mumbled to himself. He hadn’t even noticed she was awake.
“Atsushi…?” she spoke, her voice groggy from waking up.
Jolting himself awake, he immediately began tending to Kyouka. His words expelled in the form of a waterfall, “You’re awake! Are you okay? I mean, I know physically you’re okay- You’ve been in tougher situations but! You seemed so out of it last night that-“
“Are you and Akutagawa in love?”
“And then-“ Atsushi paused his tirade as his mind registered her words. He repeated her words back to her as if he would suddenly gain some understanding, “Am I…what?”
Kyouka didn’t repeat herself. She watched his eyes scatter to look anywhere but her judging gaze. The conflict in his eyes was answer enough. A part of her wished he’d at least tried to say no. Yet, Atsushi wasn’t the kind of person to lie, even if his life depended on it.
Atsushi curled himself inward as he nestled his head into his knees. His speech muffled as he let out an exasperated sigh, “How long have you known?”
“A few days maybe…I’ve suspected longer.”
She’d hoped he’d at least try and rebuke the statement. That never was Atsushi’s style.
The air around them seemed to walk a fine line that if either one breathed even slightly too long then everything would collapse into a turmoil of emotions. Then, with just an elongated groan from Atsushi the entire room diffused. He peeked over his knees, ashamed, as he spoke, “I’ll…stop seeing him.”
Kyouka’s eyes widened at his words. She had expected some form of resistance. Surely he valued their relationship, so why sacrifice it for her?
“…Do you not like him? Or,” Kyouka paused. Her eyes sharpened with underlying protectiveness as she spoke coldly, “Has he been mistreating you?”
“What- No! I mean we fight physically sometimes but that’s mutual-“ Atsushi bumbled around with his words until he caught the ever cautious glare of Kyouka. “And not the point! Look, I like Akutagawa, I do, and he treats me well. I just won’t risk losing you for him.”
Furrowing her brows, Kyouka squinted and evaluated Atsushi’s words. It’s not that she didn’t believe them. It’s more so that Atsushi is the kind of person to claim one thing while hiding how much it hurts to lose the other.
At the end of the day, Kyouka should be happy with this revelation. He chose her. She’d always known where his priorities lied but to see him act on it without hesitation was just the reassurance she’d needed. Once he’d broken up with Akutagawa, things could return to how they were. They’d eat together, hang out at the Agency and watch old sappy films. Films where every time she saw Atsushi look at the screen with that longing gaze she’d wonder if Akutagawa’s face came to mind…
A part of Kyouka wanted to end the conversation there. She’d won after all. However, she couldn’t get those images of his giddy smile and dilated pupils at the mere mention of Akutagawa out of her head. She couldn’t grasp such an idea. To think of Akutagawa fondly and not as the seemingly heartless cur he made himself out to be.
So, she asked something she really didn’t want the answer to, “Where were you last night?”
“I was at Akutagawa’s apartment. We had an argument and…” Atsushi buried his face in his hands as he grumbled, “Things just kind of developed from there.”
Kyouka didn’t dwell on what the latter comment meant, nor did she want to infer it either.
“What did you argue about?” Kyouka continued her interrogation as she strained her body to maintain composure, just a little longer.
Atsushi hesitated, the bitter feelings of the night before still present as he spoke, “I…I wanted to tell you and maybe the Agency about us. I couldn’t bear to see how much it was hurting you anymore but he…he refused. He didn’t want to risk rumours spreading and me getting targeted by his enemies for ‘something trivial’ according to him.”
Calling Atsushi’s love trivial had to be laughable. In fact, she even let out a stunned scoff. Although, she couldn’t tell if she was more stunned by Akutagawa’s words or supposed actions. Atsushi may not have fully realised it but Akutagawa, in his mind, was protecting him. If what Atsushi said was true then he cared about him a lot more than Kyouka had realised.
Pushing that thought aside, she asked, “If you knew I was going to be uncomfortable with you seeing him then why do it?”
“I…don’t know. Maybe I thought that if I could hide it from you I’d be able to have my cake and eat it too. I promise I didn’t do it because I hadn’t considered how it might hurt you. I did, I was just reckless with my feelings,” he laughed to himself. Kyouka knew that to be true. Only a man solely driven by his emotions would jump out of train after a girl with a bomb strapped to her chest. Up until now, Kyouka had admired that quality. However, in that very moment, she wished he had some form of self-restraint.
Atsushi continued, droplets swelling in the corner of his eyes as if he was pleading his case to a judge, “The way I feel with Akutagawa isn’t comparable with anyone else. Not in a way where it surpasses the care I have for other people in my life but in a way where only we understand what we are to each other. It’s weird and probably sounds like an excuse to you but it’s the truth. I didn’t want to pick between the two people I care about most because no matter what, I’d choose you, Kyouka!”
He was adamant about his choice but the pain of making the choice was clear. The slight wince in his face and the crease in the corner of his eye. No matter who he picked, Atsushi would use it as another excuse to resent his existence. Kyouka knew she couldn’t fix that or Akutagawa. The only person who could was Atsushi himself. He never seemed to realise that though.
He briefly paused to take a breath as he spoke in a hushed tone, “Look, Akutagawa is one of the…better things I’ve gotten in life but he hurt you ,whether he felt justified or not, I won’t make you have to tolerate him on my behalf. I should have prioritised that from the beginning. I’m sorry I allowed myself to get so carried away…”
His words stung her heart like a barbed wire rooting itself in her arteries. It allowed the wire to settle back into scars of the past and tear them open. This was a familiar twist of pain for her. Being truly alone if only for a moment. Despite his words, Kyouka wasn’t convinced that there hadn’t been moments where he’d wanted to pick Akutagawa. Yet, obligation kept him to her. That’s what she believed, blinded by her frustrations and confrontation of a truth she’d hope never to become reality.
Kyouka didn’t hate Akutagawa either. In the end, he’d let her go and even congratulated her on escaping the Mafia. Words she’d never taken for granted. Back in the Mafia, the two of them had shared stories of their pasts with one another. Not to sympathise with the other but to drive themselves to do more. Even if she saw Akutagawa or was forced to be around him daily, it wouldn’t bother her. That alone wouldn’t bother her. It was Atsushi. Seeing him be happy with someone who had made her miserable. No matter how she felt about them individually, seeing them together just felt like two worlds colliding in the worst way possible. More importantly, would they even have room for her in whatever their relationship brought?
Yes, Atsushi had chose her but what good is being chosen when you can still see what they lost in a distant gaze or absent minded comment?
Atsushi reached out for her hand, apologising, “I really am sorry, Kyouka. Please-“
Kyouka snapped her hand back and looked away, wiping an unwelcome wetness from her eyes.
“Don’t touch me,” she croaked.
Kyouka didn’t hate either of them, she never could. She hated herself for letting this be the moment where years of suppressing emotions finally wore out.
She couldn’t see his expression but she could hear the break in his voice as he said, “That’s okay. I’ll be outside when you’re ready to talk.”
The floorboards creaked as he stood and his footsteps dragged as the door closed behind him. In the corner of her eye, she saw the blurred image of a stuffed rabbit sat in the corner of the room. Pure black pebbles for eyes and a tilted head that mocked her. She wanted to pluck those eyes out and try them for herself. Maybe then she could understand how he saw the world. Maybe then she could understand why something of the past had come back to haunt her in the worst way possible- through the person she loved most.
———
That night, Kyouka had a dream. She was being chased by a dog. Out of breath, she seemed to run forever in the darkness. Nothing beneath her feet and nothing to aim for in the distance. Eventually, it caught the edge of her kimono. It ripped right through it and clenched its teeth around her ankle. She screamed and clawed at nothing as it pulled her into a dark dungeon.
The dog guarded the door to the dungeon diligently. It barked at her when she got too close but it never bit. The dungeon had a window, high above the ground and out of reach, where little trickles of light would shed through. The dog would snap at her when she stared at it too long.
One day, a cat appeared in that window. It sat and watched her. It’s gaze pitiful as it watched her in the dungeon. It sat tall and proud as the light brushed past it. The cat and the light seemed to intermingle with one another as if they were one in the same.
She wanted to pet it, to hold it and feel the warmth of its purrs against her chest. So, she climbed her way up to the window, the dog growling at her feet and threatening to pull her back into the abyss. It grazed her ankles and she lost her sandals as she ascended further towards the cat until it was just close enough for her to hold.
But the dog had beaten her to it. The cat was limp in its mouth. Not a gruesome sight like she’d expected. Instead, it was tender. It had picked the cat up from the nape of its neck and held it as though it were a puppy. Then, they turned and left. Kyouka ran, hoping to be heard as she screamed after them. Her feet were weary and not matter how fast she ran the steady pace of the animals just seemed to surpass her, the gap between them growing until they were just blurred dots in the background.
Kyouka pleaded for them to come back as she tripped on her own feet and fell into the abyss. For a while, she just lay there. She was neither warm nor cold. There was nothing to feel around her but an ache in her chest.
A wet sensation against her feet. She glanced at downward to see the dog had returned and it was licking the wounds on her feet. She hadn’t noticed the blood and grime that covered them.
The dog lifted its head to look at Kyouka who looked back. An equally vacant expression in both of their eyes with faint flicker of light from an unknown influence present too. She had too many words for the beast. Most were emotional dribble but the right words left her mouth without a second thought.
She broke down into vigorous tears and frustration as she wailed, “You said you were happy for me so why? Why did you take my happiness from me?! Why couldn’t you have found your own?! Why did it have to be mine? Why…?”
Moving slowly, the dog approached the girl as she cried in a place where no one could hear her. She attempted to shuffle away yet it made no difference. The dog nudged her arms where she’d tried to force the tears back in and settled its head on her legs.
Then, she woke up in a heap of her own sweat with the rabbit tightly held against her chest. Rolling herself out of the futon, she noticed how the closet that Atsushi often slept in was empty. She would have heard him enter so that could only mean…
Kyouka slid open the door to the room where her feet knocked something hard outside. She looked down and saw a plate full of food. It had pancakes, crepes and all sorts of sweet things that technically didn’t class as breakfast but still made her mouth water. Eagerly, she picked up a crepe and began to nibble on it when she caught a figure in the corner of her eye.
Slumped up against the wall, snoring away, was Atsushi. His breathing was steady with the occasional shiver and he was still in the clothes from previous nights, albeit more dishevelled than the past. He’d probably wanted to see her as soon as possible but forgot to account for fatigue. She wasn’t quite sure she was ready to speak with him though.
Making sure to avoid the tray, she dragged a blanket from the bedroom into the hall and draped it over Atsushi’s limp body. He snuggled into it like a child in the middle of winter. He sniffled and stirred but he didn’t wake.
She just couldn’t wrap her head around it. How had Atsushi gone from hating Akutagawa, possibly more than Kyouka had, to loving him? Was this the irrationality of love she’d heard about? Were all those sayings that “it catches you when you least expect it to” true? If they were then it was certainly the case here.
Kyouka couldn’t tell what she resented more, the fact that she’d created him all this stress or that Akutagawa had made him happier in the last few weeks than she’d seen since joining the Agency. Was there something romantic love could offer that she couldn’t? Atsushi said he loved her and she believed him. After all, he was a terrible liar. That’s what made his words hurt all the more, because she knew he meant them but, to her, was valued less than whatever romantic love could give him.
Her train of thought was broken by the ringing of a phone, muffled yet audible enough. Lifting a cushion from the couch, Kyouka’s eyes fell to Atsushi’s phone that was sandwiched between the seat and its armrest. She didn’t even look at the number as she answered. It was obvious to her who it was.
“Finally. I’ve been trying to reach you all night. What on earth was that, were-tiger?”
The voice was as mature and cold as she remembered it. However, there was an undertone of gentleness she wasn’t prepared for. The world around her seemed to blur between the Agency dorms, a dungeon and those eyes so desperate for light. Her words stalled as she listened to the man on the other end. He wasn’t alone. In the background, she heard a young girl’s voice who whined, “What’s for dinner? I’m hungry…!”
Kyouka hadn’t expected that. She’d heard about rumours of him taking in a girl but she hadn’t expected them to be true. How could he care for a child without corrupting them full of death and despair? Her mind was running wild as she tried to picture what kind of child Akutagawa could possibly take care of and what he’d have to do to let them speak so casually with him.
Akutagawa gave the girl some form of a response before returning to the phone and sighing, impatiently, “Well? I’m waiting.”
There was an uneasy silence yet to Kyouka’s surprise, Akutagawa waited.
“Akutagawa,” was all she said. She couldn’t see him but she knew he stiffened on the other end.
“Kyouka,” she heard him exhale a response.
“I want to meet up. It’s about Atsushi. Be at the cafe under the Agency at midday tomorrow,” she declared and then swiftly hung up leaving no room for his protests. He could always not show up but Kyouka had a feeling that if he cared about Atsushi as much as he’d demonstrated in the past then he’d show.
She glanced over at the sleeping Atsushi. He’s a man driven by emotions. It makes her jealous that he can be so careless yet so sure of himself. For Kyouka, she can’t even wrap her head around her feelings. Love in all forms was a mystery to her. It was like grasping at the hopes and dreams of a writer, doomed to never fully understand them in their lifetime.
For that man though, loving was as easy as breathing. Appreciating every person he came across and seeking to raise their value. He was blissfully innocent despite being so familiar with all the cruelty the world had to offer. He was a broken lighthouse for people who lived in darkness. Hoping they could find consolation in all the shattered glass of his light. So that they knew to be good isn’t about perfection but about making something of the scraps the world had given you.
Maybe Akutagawa understood those intricacies of Atsushi better than she did. Maybe he could pick up the glass and be cut by it but never care. Maybe Atsushi had guarded her from the glass for too long. Kyouka had never perceived him as a broken lighthouse but a beacon to follow blindly. Perhaps, that’s what needed to change. Had she been deliberately ignoring Atsushi’s faults until now?
Her eyes fell to the Home Screen on Atsushi’s phone. The background was a photo of the Agency at some sort of peace celebration. Atsushi had taken the selfie with Kyouka at his side and the rest of the Agency cheering behind them. There was a spark in his eyes there that she hadn’t seen in a long time, she just hadn’t acknowledged it until now.
“Kyouka…?” she heard his groggy voice call.
Their eyes met, his vacant and tired. It was like meeting him for the first time. Meeting him for what he truly was which was a distraught man who clung to the good in others. His brows were furrowed as though he was about to start apologising all over again.
She cut him up, saying, “Atsushi, are you happy?”
“The people I care about are alive,” he said with a melancholy smile, “How could I possibly ask for more?”
His words were sincere yet the exhaustion in them echoed more than she’d hoped. It had been weeks since the conflict with Fyodor ended and she’d never seen Atsushi so miserable. She’d been so focused on the phone calls she’d barely stopped to recount what they were about.
“Akutagawa, I told you I’m fine. You don’t need to keep checking up on me-“
She felt a little foolish. A part of her still couldn’t wrap her head around Akutagawa though. Of all people, he hadn’t even been on her radar for Atsushi. Perhaps she believed if she willed it hard enough she could ignore the odd glances and strange comments between the two.
She should have known from that night in the fog when their abilities had gone straight for each other. When they’d stood in that elevator and Akutagawa had studied every inch of Atsushi as if he held the answer. To what? Only Akutagawa knew that.
Kyouka didn’t understand love. She still doesn’t. All she knew was that someone full of love like Atsushi is doomed to bleed themselves dry to fill a bucket with a hole at the bottom. With an ability like Akutagawa’s though, she supposed there was hope for Atsushi. It was that which she wanted to understand.
They’d all come a long way but maybe this was too much for them. It’s silly to think that the thing that may just tear them apart was the unity of two people.