Chapter Text
I’ll see you soon
How could a heart like yours
Ever love a heart like mine?
How could I live before?
How could I have been so blind?
You opened up my eyes
— Willamette Stone, “Heart Like Yours”
Ranpo passes out in front of Atsushi and Atsushi sits up too late to stop his head from striking the concrete. He winces at the sound of the impact.
“Atsushi.”
He looks up at Kunikida, who looks at him for a moment before offering him a tired, yet warm, smile.
“It’s time to go home.”
“Ah, thank god.”
While they wait for Dazai to return, the Armed Detective Agency is housing three people.
One, the vampire count, Bram Stoker — to keep an eye on him until Dazai gets back.
Two, the girl who stopped the vampire massacre, Koda Aya — because she refuses to leave Bram’s side.
Three, a vampire who somehow had the faintest strains of self-control even before Bram was freed, Akutagawa Ryuunosuke — for Atsushi’s peace of mind.
However, Akutagawa’s presence leads to Akutagawa Gin’s presence. And Gin doesn’t really go places without one Tachihara Michizou. And Tachihara has the whole Hunting Dogs thing to contend with, so the Hunting Dogs are around, too.
So, make that one vampire count, one kid, two human military beasts and four vampires.
And Atsushi is fed up with them all.
“What’s taking Dazai so long?” he had asked Kunikida that morning. “It's been almost twenty four hours. Is he okay?”
Kunikida had nodded. “He’s quite all right. He and his . . . partner just happened to cause a scene in some small French airport and, well, I didn’t get the full story. I don’t have the patience for them beyond knowing they’re okay and on their way.”
Now, look, Atsushi understands who Gin is. He knows that beyond the sweet girl he once followed for Katai, Gin is an absolutely ruthless assassin who could and would slit his throat without a moment’s hesitation. But again, Atsushi is fed up with the extra company.
So he flicks Gin’s forehead before grabbing their hair and raising the brush as if to hit them with it. “Stop squirming or I’ll cut it off instead of helping you brush it.”
Kyoka raises her eyebrows at Atsushi from where she sits brushing her own hair. “Boy, am I glad I didn’t take you up on that offer.”
Gin turns around to glare at Atsushi. Huffing, Atsushi turns their head back around to face forward.
The entire interaction makes Tachihara snicker.
Atsushi points the brush at him. “You’re next.”
Tachihara covers his head with both hands and hisses at Atsushi, baring his fangs.
“Aww,” Kyoka says. “You’re like an angry little ginger cat!”
“I don’t even have enough hair to warrant needing a proper brush like that,” Tachihara grumbles.
“No, but you showered yesterday and yet there’s still blood in your hair. I will manhandle you into the bathtub myself if you keep laughing at me.”
Tanizaki taps Atsushi’s arm and holds his hand out for the brush. “I think you should take a nap, Atsushi. Go home. The dorms are empty right now.”
And so, two more days pass like this before they get word from Dazai.
He almost got arrested for not having a passport. Luckily, Chuuya did have a passport and knew how to lie on the spot and believably claim that a rabid dog shredded Dazai’s passport. And visa. And ID document. And all their imaginary luggage.
It’s a good thing Chuuya speaks French.
Atsushi doesn’t look away from the stars when he hears footsteps on the rooftop. “Excited for Dazai to return tomorrow, are you? I am. It means you lot will go back to your little mafia apartments and our sleeping arrangements can go back to normal. I much prefer Kyoka’s company to yours, though Gin isn’t so bad.”
Akutagawa sits down beside Atsushi. “We never really talked about it, you know. I fear we may never get the chance if not now.”
Atsushi turns his head to look at the back of Akutagawa’s, watching him tilt his head backwards to study the stars. It’s odd to see him without a coat. It’s also nice. “Why? We worked well together, did we not? We could certainly work together again. Plus, there are places in Yokohama where the line blurs enough that we may meet.”
“I do not mean that we will not meet again, jinko. I mean that I fear I may not live once this curse is lifted.”
Atsushi sits up. “Can’t Bram —”
“My sister asked already.” Akutagawa shakes his head. “In the time it will take for the nullification from Dazai’s ability to fade so that the count may use his ability again, I will die.”
“There has to be something we can do. What if Bram lifts the ability himself? And then. . .”
Akutagawa shakes his head again. “My sister asked on that as well. Doing so would take far too much energy. He would be fine, but he would not be conscious to turn me once again.”
“Can’t he —”
“He cannot single me out.”
Atsushi scowls. “Could you at least look at me when you tell me you’re going to die tomorrow?”
Akutagawa scoffs. “Why? So your righteousness can consume you? So my face can haunt your dreams as you ask yourself why you didn’t do more, why you didn’t try harder? I am not your friend, but I cannot find it in me to be so cruel to you.”
Atsushi glares at Akutagawa. “There has to be something that can be done. The Page —”
“No!” Akutagawa glares so fiercely at Atsushi that Atsushi recoils slightly. Akutagawa’s gaze tracks the motion and he relaxes, sitting back calmly. “No. If you are so determined to do something, you can search to your heart’s content. But I do not want you rewriting my existence.”
“But it could help. It could save you. It could even fix your condition.”
“It would change who I am. My own sister wouldn’t recognise me. You wouldn’t know me. But more importantly, using that thing for your own selfish desires would make you no better than the man who is the reason I will die tomorrow.”
Atsushi feels like every taut string holding him together and upright, like a puppeteer's good tool, has snapped. His shoulders sag. His posture turns to a slouch. He drops his head down. “I’m sorry,” he whispers.
“Don’t be,” Akutagawa says, uncharacteristically kindly. “You’re a hero, the kind that makes me sick. You’d lay your head on a guillotine if it meant saving one life, even a worthless one, because you don’t think there’s such a thing as worthless life unless it is your own you’re talking about. I can’t fault you for wanting to find a way out. That’s just who you are.”
“What am I supposed to do?” Atsushi asks in a small voice, burying his face in his knees.
“Mourn me, if you are capable of such a thing.”
“And then? Dazai wanted us to work together. He wanted us to build something, like he did, but better. What am I supposed to do when my partner is dead?”
Akutagawa hums. “You will have Kyoka.”
“That’s different and you know it,” Atsushi snaps, lifting his head somewhat to glare at Akutagawa. “She’s my best friend. I could never fight her with a clean conscience.”
“Ah.”
Atsushi scoffs. “I can’t believe you think I won’t mourn you.”
Akutagawa shrugs. “I haven’t exactly been the most pleasant company.”
“Not before Fukuchi, no. But these few days have been good. I would have missed you even if the furthest you went was to your own home.”
“I see.”
Atsushi, his arms wrapped around his knees, looks upwards to stare at the stars. “Would Dazai delay undoing the vampirism to give me a chance to find something?”
Atsushi can feel Akutagawa’s gaze on him, but he keeps his own on the stars. They’re easier to look at. They don’t ask questions.
“Prolonging the inevitable won’t make it hurt any less.”
Atsushi sighs. “Would you indulge me for tonight, then?”
“Indulge you how?”
Atsushi shuffles for a bit before he lays his head in Akutagawa’s lap. “Treat me like you care about me. Lie to me, if you must.”
Akutagawa hums. “So, we aren’t going to talk about it after all?”
Atsushi closes his eyes when he feels a hand on his head. “What’s there to talk about? You saved my life. I owe you.”
Akutagawa doesn’t try to argue. “Maybe I’ll turn you into my personal assistant for a week to clear your debt.”
Atsushi chuckles at the suggestion that, on another day, would have made him pissed enough to want to hit Akutagawa. “A personal assistant, huh?”
“A glorified position, really,” Akutagawa says airily. He’s playing with Atsushi’s hair now. “I will have you tend to my apartment and do my errands and take the fall for anything I do that may anger Gin.”
Atsushi laughs. “I’ve already been doing all of that ever since the whole circus came to the dorms. It’s gotten to a point where Gin doesn’t even believe me when it is my fault!”
Akutagawa huffs. “Then I’ll find another way to clear your debt. You’ll have to give me a few days to think about it.”
They don’t have a few days. Akutagawa doesn’t, that is. He doesn’t have more than a full day. But Atsushi asked Akutagawa to lie to him.
“If. . .”
“Hm?” Akutagawa hums when Atsushi doesn’t go on.
“If I can convince Dazai to delay the nullification by one day, will you allow me to try and make your last day a good day?”
Akutagawa doesn’t answer for a long moment. Before he speaks, he huffs in bitter amusement. “You really are a masochist, aren’t you?”
“How so?”
“What is this for, hm? A good last day? I will be dead. It won’t matter to me.”
“It’ll matter to me.”
“I know. I can’t fathom why. Others would have distanced themselves if they cared for a dying one, to make it hurt less.”
Atsushi is quiet for a moment. “Others would have a good supply of nice memories of the dying one. I have three. Those will hardly carry me through the rest of my life.”
“Masochist,” Akutagawa says, but Atsushi can’t find the bite in the word when Akutagawa says it almost fondly as he twists Atsushi’s hair around his fingers.
“How long have you known how to braid hair?” Gin asks, absently playing with one braid while Atsushi braids the other half of their hair.
“Not very long. Sometimes I wake up from nightmares and try as hard as I might, it wakes Kyoka up, too. She always lets me brush her hair even if it’s the middle of the night. She taught me to braid her hair.”
Gin tilts their head — Atsushi is halfway down the braid, head motions won’t spoil it now — and frowns slightly. “Why do you do her hair in the middle of the night?”
Atsushi shrugs. “There is something comforting about taking care of someone else.”
He ties the end of the braid off and smiles, satisfied with his work. “There we go. All done.”
Gin takes both of the braids in their hands and stares at the ends of them. “Thank you,” they eventually say.
Atsushi pats Gin’s head like they’re not one of the Port Mafia’s most ruthless assassins. “You’re welcome.”
He leaves Gin to their own devices and heads to the little kitchenette to bring breakfast to the table, calling Akutagawa’s name as he does so.
It should be a strange thing, to be sharing his little wood table with the Akutagawa siblings instead of Kyoka, but it feels pretty normal. Something he could get used to.
But Dazai is returning today. Atsushi won’t have the chance to properly get used to any of this.
They eat in silence, as the siblings prefer, and then they take turns with the bathroom to get ready for the day and when that’s done, Atsushi wishes he’d wasted more time getting ready before it’s time to go to the agency offices.
He mulls it over in his head the entire way, how to possibly ask Dazai for one day. How does he ask if he can be selfish when the world is waiting for the curse to be lifted?
In the end, he doesn’t need to ask.
It’s Chuuya that tells everyone to back off, to give Dazai space, to give him a day before he’s made to use his ability again.
It’s pure bullshit. Dazai’s ability is always alive, thrumming beneath his skin. It’s not like most others that need to be summoned and will take up energy.
But Atsushi is the first to step back, despite having wanted to hug Dazai so badly. Mostly because he saw the look Dazai gave him.
It’s definitely bullshit. It’s that Dazai knows what’ll happen to Akutagawa. It’s that Chuuya knows what Dazai will want to do.
Atsushi gives Dazai a grateful nod, then grabs Gin’s arm and pulls them to the door. Akutagawa, naturally, follows. None of them heed the questions about where they’re going.
“Where are we going?” Gin asks, which is tantamount to how much they trust Atsushi given that they let themselves be dragged away by him not knowing where to or why.
“Out,” Atsushi says. “Just out.”
Gin glances back at their brother. “The three of us?”
Atsushi doesn’t sugarcoat things with Gin. He’s learned quickly in this short time that Gin doesn’t appreciate it. So he looks at them and nods. “I’m not going to exclude you on your brother’s last day.”
“Oh.”
“Dazai knew,” Akutagawa mutters, stopping on the sidewalk outside the agency doors.
Gin and Atsushi pause and watch Akutagawa turn to look up at the windows. They both follow his gaze up to find that Dazai stands at the window despite the way he’d practically hobbled into the office on a crutch and Chuuya, watching them.
To Atsushi’s absolute mortification, Akutagawa very aggressively gives Dazai a middle finger.
Atsushi watches Dazai’s face break into a smile so real, it almost hurts. It’s only thanks to his ability that he hears Dazai laugh and, oh, wow, Dazai’s laugh is delightful when it’s real.
“What was that?” Gin asks as Dazai turns away from the window, presumably to dismiss whoever asked him what he’s laughing at.
Akutagawa shuffles from one foot to the other. It’s a little nice to see him behave like the twenty-year-old kid he never got the chance to be. “I’ve sort of always wanted to tell Dazai to fuck off. I figure it should be okay now. I won’t have to face any consequences. Shall we?”
They continue on their way, and when Atsushi glances back at the window, Dazai waves.
“I must say, jinko,” Akutagawa mutters as they peruse the bookshelves, “I expected something more . . . active.”
Atsushi scoffs. “You’re the one about to die. I figure your last day should be things you enjoy.”
Akutagawa pulls a book off the shelf and opens the front cover before shutting it and pointing at Atsushi with it. “And what gave you the idea that this is something I’d enjoy?”
“Gin complained a bit about how much they miss their games, which are on a shelf on one side of the TV because your book collection is on the other side. No one keeps a book collection unless books are something they love. To read or to own is irrelevant. You like books.”
Akuatagawa raises the book in his hand slightly. “And what happens if I buy this? It will go into the shelf and then what?”
Atsushi takes the book from him and looks at the cover. “I’ll read it.”
“You hate reading. I hear you talk to Tachihara and the detective version of Tachihara.”
Atsushi rolls his eyes at Akutagawa’s choice of referral to Tanizaki. “Maybe I’ll read it to you at your grave. Do you think your soul will sit and listen?”
Akutagawa stares at Atsushi.
“Maybe I’ll read all your books, one by one, to you at your grave.”
“Why?”
Atsushi tilts his head. “Because I’m going to miss you. I’m going to miss you a lot. I don’t know what I am separate from you.”
“That sounds . . . awfully like a cheesy romance novel.”
Atsushi chuckles. “I guess. But I mean it. Ever since my life turned around, since I met Dazai and joined the agency, you have been there. You’ve tried to kill me, you’ve worked with me, you’ve saved my life. I . . . I don’t know what exactly you are to me, but you’re important. I’m gonna miss you, Akutagawa.”
Akutagawa turns back to the shelf and selects a different book. He shows it to Atsushi. It’s far thinner than the other novel. “This one,” he says. “Read this one to me tonight. Then tomorrow night, read the first chapter of that one to my grave. I will listen.”
If Gin had been eavesdropping from a different aisle, they give no indication of it when they come up behind Atsushi and show him the book they chose.
“I want to get this,” they say.
“That’s in braille,” Akutagawa says.
“Yes. I want to teach Tachihara to read braille.”
“Why?”
Gin shrugs. “If undoing the vampire ability in you will revert you to your state prior to it, then Tachihara might share the same fate. He was blinded before. So tomorrow, if that’s what happens, I want to start teaching him to read braille.”
“Aww,” Atsushi says. He pats Gin’s head like they’re a toddler. “You’re so sweet.”
Gin scrunches their nose up and squeezes their eyes shut, but Atsushi knows they don’t mind. (He asked the first time.)
“I fail to see why you should pay,” Akutagawa says. “My bank account will not be needed by this time tomorrow.”
“Hush you,” Atsushi says impatiently. “I said I’d buy lunch, didn’t I?”
“Yes, but —”
“But nothing. You can try as hard as you like to remind Gin and I of what is coming, but we’ve agreed to spend the rest of today in our own delusions where we will wake up tomorrow and find you whining about the lack of hot water in the shower. So, hush.”
Gin smiles to themself behind their smoothie.
Akutagawa huffs and relents. “You’re insufferable.”
“Well, you won’t have to suffer me much longer.”
Gin chokes on their smoothie.
Gin claimed to be afraid of heights — utter bullshit, in Atsushi’s opinion — so Atsushi and Akutagawa ride the Cosmo Clock without them.
“What do you think Gin’s up to?” Atsushi asks as their capsule begins to rise.
“Probably wandering around the stalls or thinking about what’s for dinner.” Akutagawa turns to the view, watching the amusement park slowly get smaller and smaller. “If it weren’t for Gin, I would have accused you of attempting to take me out on a date.”
Atsushi huffs in amusement and watches the twinkling lights too.
“You're not going to deny it?”
Atsushi doesn’t say anything.
“Jinko,” Akutagawa says, sounding very slightly afraid. “Deny it.”
“Ah,” Atsushi sighs, stretching out on his bench like a cat before looking at Akutagawa. He smiles sheepishly. “You caught me.”
“Jinko,” Akutagawa says pleadingly. “This isn’t right.”
“When is anything ever right when it comes to you? Things are either nice or painful, but very rarely right. Let me have this.”
“You can’t. This is — this is ridiculous!”
“As is everything with the two of us.”
“I know called you a masochist yesterday but . . . this is . . . why are you doing this?”
“I don’t like regret,” Atsushi says. “It’s not so much fun. I don’t want to regret not trying this out. Besides, it’s safe. Even if you have only rejection to give me, it can’t hurt worse than your death tomorrow.”
Atsushi stands when their capsule reaches half the height of the ferris wheel and walks to the edge, staring at Yokohama while the lights reflect on the glass. He pointedly ignores his reflection, and the one that silently joins him.
“I don’t know what love is,” Atsushi says quietly, “not really. But I think this can be classified as it. You drive me insane and you make me want to throw you into oncoming traffic, but the thought of burying you makes me —”
Atsushi breaks off, unable to finish the thought. The delusion was nice while it lasted.
“Why must you hurt yourself like this?” Akutagawa asks. “It’s no fun for me when you do it.”
Atsushi chuckles. “Sorry. I can’t let you have everything even if it is your last day.”
“You want to pretend?” Akutagawa asks. “Pretend like tomorrow won’t be any different from yesterday?”
Atsushi looks at Akutagawa’s reflection. They’re nearly at the top now. “If you weren’t dying tomorrow, I don’t think you’d be this patient with me.”
“You’d be surprised,” Akutagawa says. “You get on my last nerve a lot. I have great patience when it comes to you.”
“Yeah? All right. Let’s pretend. Is this our first date?”
Atsushi turns to look at Akutagawa properly when he feels Akutagawa hesitantly brush his hand against Atsushi’s.
“Don’t be shy,” Atsushi says. He grabs Akutagawa's hand and laces their fingers together. “You’d really take my hand if this were a normal day?”
“Dazai asked me to protect you,” Akutagawa says. “He told me to do whatever it took. But in the moment, when it finally came down to it, I didn’t do it for him.”
Atsushi squeezes Akutagawa’s hand. Akutagawa squeezes his hand back. Their capsule begins its descent.
“Can I say something mean?” Atsushi asks.
“Mm.”
Atsushi leans his head towards Akutagawa, a little surprised when Akutagawa leans his head against Atsushi’s. It would be cute if not for the impending doom tomorrow.
“I don’t want you to go.”
Akutagawa is silent for a while and Atsushi wonders if he’s overstepped.
“Can I say something meaner?” Akutagawa asks.
“Hm?”
“I don’t want to go.”
They stay like that until their capsule reaches the ground again.
When they get off the ferris wheel, Gin doesn’t give any indication that they’ve noticed Atsushi and Akutagawa’s entwined hands — they both know better than to think Gin hasn’t noticed.
“I found a food stall we can eat at,” Gin says. They walk on the other side of Akutagawa, so they lean a little forward to look at Atsushi. “They’re serving chazuke at the next stall over if you want to grab some of that after dinner?”
Atsushi smiles at them. “That sounds awesome.”
Atsushi watches Gin as they walk to the amusement park’s exit. They seem happy. There’s a slight bounce in their step that usually isn’t there — silent-footed assassin and all that — and they gently swing the bag of the books the three of them had bought earlier.
He’s glad that Gin’s last day with their brother has been a good one.
Dazai is standing outside his dorm room when they return. Gin and Akutagawa are fully engaged in an argument about whose fangs are sharper and so they don’t notice Dazai.
Atsushi does.
Dazai holds Atsushi’s gaze for a moment before he offers Atsushi a small smile and turns away from the balcony. By the time the three of them reach Atsushi’s dorm, Dazai has headed into his own.
Gin takes the shower first. Atsushi and Akutagawa lay down the futons. As always, Akutagawa insists they lay them out with the pillows against the wall. Something about missing his headboard at his apartment.
Akutagawa takes the second shower. Gin makes tea while Atsushi tidies the dorm up.
Atsushi takes the last shower. When he gets out, he finds that Akutagawa and Gin have decided that Atsushi is sleeping in the middle tonight, and they’ve moved both futons closer to the middle one. Akutagawa is holding the book.
With a small smile, Atsushi takes a seat in the middle, leaning back against the wall as he takes the book and opens to the first page.
He’s two pages in when he feels Gin lay their head on his leg. After a slight pause, Akutagawa copies his sister on the other side.
With his free hand, Atsushi gently pets Gin’s head, periodically pausing when he needs to turn the page. His tail wraps around Akutagawa’s shoulders.
By the time he closes the book, both of them are fast asleep. It takes excruciatingly slow motions, but Atsushi eventually gets their heads onto their own pillows. He debates laying down too but ultimately decides to get up to put the book on the table.
Then he steps out of the dorm.
Dazai is waiting outside, leaning against the balcony.
“Did you have a good day?” Dazai asks.
Atsushi nods. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
Atsushi joins Dazai at the balcony. “You probably shouldn’t be putting too much weight on that leg.”
“I’ve been resting all day. Chuuya’s finally asleep, so let me enjoy my freedom for a bit.”
Dazai’s words sound like he’s frustrated with Chuuya’s presence, but there is an undeniable fondness in his voice that renders any possible frustrations null and void. Atsushi wonders what happened at Meursault.
“Is there really nothing we can do?”
“Atsushi, if anything existed, you would have found it by now. If there’s anything I know about you, it’s that you will always find a way to save people. The fact that you didn’t means that there isn’t a way.”
Atsushi sighs. He leans against the balcony and stares down at the ground. “I mentioned the Page to him.”
“I didn’t think you’d go for that one.”
“Desperate measures. Anyway, he said no. Said it would change who he is, would hurt Gin. I’d do it, you know, if it weren’t for Gin.”
Dazai leans against the balcony, facing the dorms. “Yeah? Even if he hates you for it?”
“I could live with that.”
“Hm.” Dazai pushes off the balcony and stretches. “Get some sleep, Atsushi. Maybe stay home with them tomorrow. Only Bram Stoker really needs to be there.”
Atsushi nods. “I’ll think about it. I’ll ask them.”
Akutagawa is awake when Atsushi closes the door behind him. Gin is still fast asleep as Atsushi gets back into the middle futon.
“Jinko,” Akutagawa whispers after a moment.
Atsushi turns his head to find Akutagawa facing him. “Yes?”
“May I ask a favour of you?”
“Sure.”
“Will you keep an eye on Gin for me? They need their — they need a brother. They don’t like being held and coddled, but you seem to be the exception, so I’m asking you to look after them for me.”
Atsushi stares at Akutagawa for a long moment. He offers Akutagawa his best attempt at a reassuring smile. “Of course.”
They fall asleep clutching one another’s hands and Atsushi wakes up with Gin tucked into his side like a young child, clutching his sleep shirt like a toddler might tightly grip their comfort plush toy.
Dazai raises his eyebrows when Atsushi enters the office, the Akutagawa siblings following behind him. Atsushi shrugs. He’d told them that Dazai said they could stay at the dorms, but Akutagawa wanted to be there. He wanted to know exactly when his last breath would be drawn.
“Ready?” Dazai asks out of courtesy as he stands in front of Bram, leaning against Chuuya for support.
Gin tugs on Atsushi’s sleeve and whispers in his ear. “Will you hold him? I don’t want him to die on the floor.”
Atsushi nods at them.
Almost hesitantly, Dazai takes Bram’s outstretched hand, as if they were merely shaking hands to close a deal.
Gin, Tachihara and Jouno — why the hell are the Hunting Dogs still here anyway? — sway a bit. Jouno stumbles and Aya snickers at him. Tanizaki takes Tachihara’s arm when Tachihara realises he can’t see.
“Ats-tsushi.”
Atsushi turns to Akutagawa and sinks to the ground with him. He holds Akutagawa’s head to his chest and takes delusional comfort in the way Akutagawa grips his sleeve.
(It’s just a reflex. He’ll let go eventually.)
Atsushi is vaguely aware of Kunikida herding everyone out of the office. Gin — and by extention, Tachihara — stay. He feels a wound reopen beneath his hand, the slice of Fukuchi’s blade on Akutagawa’s neck, but there is no blood.
“‘M scared.”
“Don’t be. It’s just like bedtime, right? Do you want me to read to you?”
“Mhm.”
Atsushi recites the final few paragraphs of the book from memory — it was a good story, one about growing up and moving on and it hit a nerve and the last lines embedded themselves in Atsushi’s brain permanently — as if he were reading from the book.
Somewhere in between, Akutagawa’s grip on Atsushi’s sleeve turns slack and his hands fall limp in Atsushi’s lap, but Atsushi resolutely finishes the story, refusing to look down.
He holds Akutagawa tight, burying his face in Akutagawa’s shoulder and trying so hard to ignore the fact that this close to Akuatagawa, he should be able to hear his heartbeat. There is only silence.
(Downstairs, Tetchou turns to Jouno when the latter sits up straighter and very slowly takes his hat off. “What?”
“The boy’s heart stopped.”
Kunikida looks up at the ceiling, as though he may be able to see Atsushi on the floor above.)
It’s Kyoka that eventually returns and helps Gin to take the body away from Atsushi.
“Atsushi.”
Atsushi keeps his head bowed, vaguely processing that Yosano is saying something to him.
Yosano.
He lifts his head and cuts off whatever she was saying. “You. Can’t you help?”
The look she gives him is full of pity that she tries and fails to hide. “He’s gone, Atsushi. My ability has its limits. I cannot help once a person has passed the brink of death. I’m sorry, sweetheart. My ability doesn’t work like that.”
Atsushi stares at her for a moment. “Then I’ll make it so it does.”
“Atsushi?” she says, stumbling off her haunches when Atsushi stands abruptly.
He pointedly does not look at the center of the room, where a white sheet from Yosano’s medical room covers an unmoving figure, and instead makes a beeline for Ranpo’s desk.
Yosano scrambles to get up. “Atsushi, stop. Kunikida!”
They’d all left to give Atsushi a moment of solitude, but one panicked shout from Yosano has Kunikida barging into the room, closely followed by everyone else.
Atsushi stands behind Ranpo’s desk, the dreaded page in hand. “I — I can fix it.”
“You can’t fix death, Atsushi,” Yosano says.
Dazai steps — hobbles — forward. “The Book doesn’t work that way.”
“It can! Fitzgerald wanted to use it on his daughter!”
“It wouldn’t have worked,” Dazai says calmly.
Atsushi points at the new face — Sigma — with the page. “The Book made them!”
“Sigma is new life,” Dazai explains. “The Book cannot revive, it can only create.”
“Then I’ll change Yosano’s ability,” Atsushi says, pointedly ignoring the horrified expression on Yosano’s face.
“Atsushi,” Dazai snaps. “How cruel are you going to become before you accept that this is the reality you have to live in? Give the page to Kunikida.”
“No.”
Dazai doesn’t need to give any kind of indication. Chuuya acts immediately, leaping over Ranpo’s desk to try and snatch the Page from Atsushi.
Atsushi isn’t half the martial artist that Chuuya is and wouldn’t ever hold his own in a proper fight against Chuuya. But that’s assuming Chuuya catches him first.
Atsushi makes for the door and, left with no option, Dazai reaches out. Ranpo shouts, to warn him to grab Atsushi and not the Page, to remind Dazai to be sure he doesn’t touch the Page, but he’s a second too late.
There is a burst, far brighter than when Dazai had briefly nullified Bram’s ability, and when it fades and everyone blinks and rubs their eyes to steady their vision, they turn back to the spot where Dazai had grabbed Atsushi.
Both Atsushi and the Page are gone.
Dazai is pretty startled to find that the people most distraught about Atsushi’s absence includes Gin. He’d expected this from Kyoka — Atsushi is quite literally her guiding light. He expected it from Kunikida — the agency’s beloved mother hen that always tries hard to keep the unruly detectives in line. He expected something less severe from Fukuzawa, who must’ve felt that ability link sever when Atsushi disappeared. But he did not expect it from Gin. They must’ve really bonded hard and fast with Atsushi in the few days it took for Dazai to return to Yokohama.
They are, in a word, inconsolable.
And it’s only been fifteen minutes.
Not even Tachihara or Chuuya know what to say to them. Eventually, it’s up to Dazai.
“We’ll get him back,” Dazai says, an empty and false promise in his voice. He sits on the floor in front of Gin, knowing he’s going to need help getting back up again.
Gin, tucked into the corner of the office, raises hollow eyes to Dazai. “He said he'd look after me.”
Their voice is hollow, too.
“Hm?”
“My brother asked him if he’d look after me. He said he would. He lied.”
Well. That’s not a box Dazai wants to unpack right now. “No, Gin, he didn’t lie. He’s trying to bring your brother back. He thinks it’ll help you.”
“It won’t. My brother is dead. He’s right there, under that cloth and there’s nothing anyone can do for him. Atsushi promised to look out for me and now he’s left me. My brother trusted him to — to keep an eye on me and — and he left.”
“It wasn’t his fault,” Dazai says, wincing when Gin’s voice catches in her throat. “I never should’ve touched the page.”
“He shouldn’t have either.”
Dazai sighs. “Gin, I can let you sit here for as long as it takes for you to want to get up again, but we’re going to bury your brother. Are you going to let us do it without you?”
Gin blinks at Dazai. “Bury him. Right.”
“Hey,” Dazai says, wanting to reach out and pat Gin’s head the way he’d seen Atsushi do yesterday, but he knows perfectly well that Gin doesn’t do being touched unless they’ve initiated. Atsushi is an exception. He offers Gin what he hopes is a reassuring smile. “Wherever he is, I’m sure Atsushi is fine.”