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waterfallofspace · 5 months ago

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💐🎋⏰ for sskk with aku as snzr pls? tysm if you do it!

So this only took me foRevER to answer- I'm so sorry!! But finally got enough motivation to get around to answering these!~

So here's a little drabble, thank you so much for sending in the prompt! And I'm sorry it took so long haha~ First time writing in a while now, so my apologies if it's a little disjointed!~

💐fits 🎋itchy nose/throat/ears ⏰inopportune from ~This Post~

Word Count: 1.8k Characters: A/ku, A/tsushi, mentions of D/azai and M/ori ~~~~~~~~~~~~

If anyone else had asked, Akutagawa would have unleashed Rashōmon on them. Or, perhaps still follow the order, but the company would have been refused. Firmly refused. The mortifying ordeal of being out in a public space in the dead of spring is bad enough. But Jinko being here to witness the… results-

“hH- nGT’uh!”

This was definitely Dazai’s doing. No one else had all of the key ingredients to this misery. Sway over Mori’s choices, knowledge of the meeting place, a hold over the weretiger, and most pressingly, knowledge of Akutagawa’s… situation.

“S-sorry, I didn’t catch that, what did you say?”

Akutagawa turns his attention back to the task at hand, pointedly ignoring Atsushi’s question, and direct stare. Obnoxious on the best of days, which this was decidedly not. They had been sent to the park in search of some sort of information.

“What exactly are we looking for?” Akutagawa asks, not bothering to hide the annoyance in his tone.

Atsushi offers an awkward smile in return, hand scratching the back of his head. “Well, see that’s just it, I’m not exactly sure… Dazai said it would be here, and well, he’s never wrong, but…”

“He didn’t say what it was or where it would be.”

“Nope, not a word.”

Akutagawa sighs, flinching against the wave of itch crawling its way down his throat. It’s the worst kind of itch, one so deep in your ears, the back of your throat, you know you couldn’t touch it even if you stuck your entire hand in your mouth.

Settling for a vague noise of disapprovement, he sets off in the general direction of what appears to be a fountain. Good a place as any to start, especially if it puts some distance between the wereti-

“Hey, wait up!” Atsushi calls, tagging along barely behind.

Akutagawa grimaces, but slows his pace.

“Thanks,” Atsushi smiles, plainly false. No one can be that happy having to cluelessly search a park, especially with your rival that’s been trying to kill you since you met. Let’s face it, neither of them was happy to be here.

“You thinking of looking at the fountain?” Atsushi continues, that optimistic tone grating on Akutagawa’s last intact nerve. “That’s where I’d hide information. Easy to describe to people who need to find it.”

“Novice. h’ngKT!”

The stifle leaves him breathless, the buzzing feeling in his sinuses promising this wasn’t even close to the end. Against all odds, Atsushi seems not to have noticed, his attention pulled towards a couple passing by.

“Excuse me, where’s the best place to meet someone here?”

The couple offered some vague responses, Akutagawa ducking into his coat for a semblance of privacy, uttering a few horrible noises. It’s the only way to scratch the back of your throat, touch that itch, but it’s not exactly subtle.

Thankfully no one noticed, Atsushi jumping from person to person, eager smiles and genuine politeness. It’s sickening. Choosing a more contained approach, Akutagawa lets his eyes wander, tracing the landscape.

Mori’s words echo in his mind, “A simple task. After all, you’re a trained member of the Port Mafia. Trained by Dazai no less.”

Somehow a compliment, and a deep burn. The respect their boss continues to hold for the deserter is only rivaled by the desire to be noticed clawing against the back of Akutagawa’s pride. And yet, somehow he picked… him.

The ‘him’ in question is currently half wading through a fountain. Oblivious to the art of subtly, or simply choosing to disregard it entirely.

With a hissed sigh, and a frantic sniffle as the action sets off a new round of itch throughout his swollen sinuses, Akutagawa makes his way towards Atsushi. Everyone around them seems more concerned with staring at him than the one practically swimming in a fountain.

Have they never seen someone with allergies before?! Akutagawa barely manages to catch a cough in his throat, feeling his tongue tense as the action ripples throughout his chest. He’s almost at the fountain when he feels a tap on his arm.

A woman stands, looking at him with a mixture of concern and disapproval, and... of course.

“Wearing this much dark clothing out in the sun is extremely irresponsible and dangerous.”

Akutagawa barely has time to process her concerns, his focus overtaken by the overwhelming scent of pollen drifting from the flowers strewn throughout her hair. That, mixed with the aroma of freshly cut grass that she must have been rolling in to have gotten so coated with it.

He manages a choked, “mind your own business” before breaking his coat from her grasp, and continuing his frantic pace to the fountain. The woman shrugs it off with a huff, speeding away, but the damage has been done.

“ngXT-! ah’tNgt’ch!”

A few stifles break loose from his grip, Akutagawa’s hand snapping to his face instinctively. Pinching his nose, he managed to contain another rapid set, control wearing off at an alarming pace.

“Oh hey, Akutagawa!” Atsushi calls once Akutagawa enters earshot. “I don’t think it’s in the fountain, I’ve searched all over- Oh! Unless it’s underwater, though… how would papers…”

“They migh- kNgt’ch!” Akutagawa feels a faint flush settle over his cheeks at the interruption, but he continues with a growl before Jinko can get a word out. “They might not be papers. I was only told to intercept ‘information’, and you weren’t given any further clarifications.”

Atsushi pauses, scratching his head with a sheepish smile. “Oh, I guess you’re right! In that case, maybe it’s some sort of coin? People tend to toss a lot of them into the fountain.”

Another set of stifles break free as Akutagawa swivels on his heel, attempting to shield the outburst best he can. Turning back, it seems he was successful, Atsushi diving headfirst back into the fountain on his coin mission. Sighing, Akutagawa tosses a piece of advice over his shoulder.

“You should look for- nNgt! ah’knCH! Look for foreign coins, something recognizable, but not too obviously out of place.”

“Yeah!” Atsushi smiles, turning his attention back to Akutagawa. “That’s a good idea! You want to help?”

“Not in the slightest.”

As he attempts to maintain his composure, Akutagawa feels another wave of itch overcome his throat, a vague growl slipping out before he can help it.

“Are- are you okay, Akutagawa?”

“Yes,” Akutagawa snaps back, bringing the back of his hand up to his mouth to fake a cough.

Atsushi seems hesitant, but nods and returns to his search. Minutes pass, ticking by like hours as Akutagwa attempts to hold off another scratch of the desperate itch beginning to crawl deeper into his ears. Finally he can’t stand it anymore and he lets out another deep growl, covering it with a pathetically ticklish cough.

Unfortunately, he realizes far too late that action will set off a chain reaction, his nose bursting with a newfound need.

“nNgh’tch! hehh– hH’YIZshhuh! ayEZSHhh’uu! zschh– yiszhh– yizzschh’uu!”

This time they break through, the last ones tumbling over each other in a dizzying frenzy of desperate irritation. This will be harder to play off as a mild lung condition.

“Oh- Akutagawa are you okay? Do you need hel-”

Atsushi is cut off by a blow from Rashōmon, Akutagawa glaring at him from behind his sleeve.

“Do not mistake my suffering for weakness, Jinko. I am more than capable of holding my own.”

The words would have carried more weight, had the congestion lacing them not left him sounding a touch pathetic. Nonetheless, he pulls himself together long enough to release his nose, snap something about ‘checking around’, and rush off to another section of the park.

Letting a congestion moan slip from his lips, Akutagawa digs his heels into his eyes again, wiping away some stray tears as the irritation releases itself in yet another disgusting display.

“knGNT-! ngt– nGXT– hH’kNGXt’zshh! hhih… hh’nGHtchh! huH’ZYESHh! yIEZSHh’uu! ”

The sneezes tear out from his throat, a bit sore and yet unbelievably satisfying. They not only scratch the mad itch in his sinuses, but leave his throat feeling mildly relieved.

This relief is cut short as a hand brushing against his back nearly scares him out of his skin.

“Bless you!”

Akutagawa rolls his eyes, muttering something about ‘western customs’ between the frantic hitching of his breath. Atsushi averts his eyes, at least offering the semblance of privacy as Akutagawa ducks into his chest with a rapid fit that barely gives him time to breathe.

“tsshh– tzshh– izshh– yzshh– yieZShh’uu!”

These ones do nothing to relieve any itch, instead they almost seem to spread it deeper. After a minute of awkwardly standing there, Atsushi seems unable to resist commenting. His mouth opens and closes a few times, unable to find the words.

Akutagawa, on the other hand, couldn’t say anything about this if he wanted to.

“We- zshh– ah’YZShh! I ndeed- tzzshh– ezshh– iZShh’uu!” The words are lost between frantic gasps and rapid fits. Atsushi offers a few more blessings, Akutagawa barely managing a harsh glare through the water in his eyes.

Finally, after what feels like forever, a last “yiEZZSHh’uu!” breaks him out of it, giving him a minute to catch his breath.

“Bless you, Akutagawa. Those are some bad allergies-”

As soon as the word leaves his lips, they both know he’s made a mistake. Spoken something that should have been left unsaid. Before he can start backpedaling, and inevitably make it worse, Akutagawa takes control of the situation.

“Are you going to show me what you found, or just stand here all day?”

“R-right! Sorry,” Atsushi gives that same sheepish smile again, and for a second Akutagawa almost feels- well, nevermind that. Taking the reprise from the burden of speaking, he lets Atsushi begin rambling on about the coin, and something to do with codes.

“heH’ZSHHuu!”

“Oh, bless you!”

Another eye roll, followed by another “zSHhh! yiEZSHhh’uu!”

Which of course is followed by another blessing.

This pattern continues for a few minutes, Atsushi futilely attempting to explain the code and offer enough blessings for Akutagawa’s ever increasing allergy attack.

“Hey,” Atsushi suddenly offers, tone switching to something softer, “how about I just fill you in back in the detective agency?”

“If you- ih’ZZSHh! tZSHh! If you think I’m setting foot in that-”

“Then how about the Port Mafia offices? I doubt they’d kill me on site, seeing as they sent us here together for this.”

Akutagawa rolls his eyes, but nods. It would be foolish at this point to not accept the offer. And besides… It's much better than showing up like this in front of Dazai.

“Alright, but I won’t promise no harm will come to you. In fact, it may come by my own hand.”

But as they begin their walk, Atsushi handing over a pack of tissues, Akutagwa lets that thought slip from his mind. Maybe the weretiger isn’t so bad after all.

#waterfallwrites #been awhile since i could use that tag!!#thank you so much for the ask anon <33 #and I hope this isn't too late!!! <333 #i mean technically it's still spring! so!!! perhaps!!!#and to anyone else who has sent in requests- well no promises but! i am trying to work on them faster now that i have more motivation~#and i appreciate all of them (/you!!) so much <333 #s/hin s/oukoku #a/kutagawa #snz fic #snz #snz kink

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sickficideas · 1 year ago

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foolish || SSKK sickfic

ao3! 13.5k please refer to the tags in the link for content + warnings! sicktember 2023, day 3: "What happened to your phenomenal immune system, huh?“ + Server/Restaurant AU

Atsushi blows his nose into the last tissue he had stored in his apron, and despite his efforts to stay hidden from the one person he would prefer not to know his secrets, Akutagawa turns the corner into the hallway.

He gives him a once over, in the way a high school girl would to someone she’s about to tear into, and in that moment, Atsushi wishes he was allowed to square up with his coworkers.

“What happened to your phenomenal immune system?" Akutagawa scoffs.

"Nothing happened to it, I still have it!" Atsushi huffs. He’s glad he doesn’t sound as congested as he did this morning, but he thinks the way his voice sounds still makes it pretty obvious that he’s sick.

“Right,” Akutagawa says, before he continues on his way back down to the end of the hallway where the restrooms are.

“Ugh. I can’t stand that guy,” Atsushi grumbles to himself as he tosses his wad of tissues into the nearest bin, and he’s back on his way into the kitchen to wash his hands.

He’s never been sick at work before. He can’t recall the last time he’s been sick in general, really, but his current state is really not helping his claims of having a fantastic immune system. It hasn’t failed him until now - it’s just that time of year, he thinks. This cold has gone through a lot of other servers at the restaurant, too.

He finishes washing his hands and pulls his mask back over his nose with an exasperated groan. He can’t stand the way his snot gets caught in the mask. This is probably the sixth one he’s gone through just today, and he hasn’t even gotten to his midday break yet.

“Still holding up okay?” Kunikida asks as he passes by, an eyebrow raised.

“Oh, yeah, I’m fine,” Atsushi nods. He’s starting to get a little tired, but otherwise, all of his symptoms are more mildly annoying than anything else. It could be a lot worse.

“Alright. Let me know if you need something,” Kunikida says. He has a clipboard on him. Atsushi isn’t quite sure what he’s busy with, but as the manager, he’s never not doing something.

“Atsushi, you have A-6!” Kenji calls into the kitchen, just quick enough to get a thumbs up from Atsushi before he heads back to the host stand. Atsushi takes in a deep breath. It could be worse. He’ll just get through this shift, take his break, and then get through the next one. No big deal, it’s basically just a runny nose at this point.

Of course he’s dead wrong.

He thinks he must have a fever or something. His head feels all stuffy. He had to ask his last table to repeat their order because he forgot to put it in, and he’s never, ever done that. The kitchen feels a lot hotter than it normally is. If he does have a fever, it can’t be a bad one, but it’s enough of a nuisance that he goes to sit up on the table next to the to-go window to press the heels of his palms against his eyelids for a few moments.

“Aww, Atsushi. Can I get something for you?” Junichiro asks as soon as he closes the window. There aren’t any to-go orders left, now, since it’s so early in the afternoon.

“No, no…I’m good,” he says with a heavy sigh, dropping his hands into his lap. “Man, I…I really thought I had a good immune system.”

“Well, nobody has a perfect immune system,” Junichiro assures him. “We all get sick. And maybe this’ll teach you not to brag about it.”

The smile tells him Junichiro’s just teasing, but maybe he’s right. He’s probably cursed himself through the universe somehow.

Atsushi turns his head with a defeated sigh as he watches Akutagawa walk past him, taking something out of the kitchen to one of his tables. Akutagawa has only been working in the restaurant for two or three months, now. Their restaurant has an adjacent cafe, where Akutagawa used to work. He's not entirely sure why he came to work at the restaurant. He wishes he'd go back to the cafe.

Atsushi watches him on his way back. He's stopped at the opposite kitchen entrance by Yosano, who hands him a note with a mischievous look on her face, but before Atsushi can even consider that strange, Dazai glides into his field of vision.

“Ohh, what’s Atsushi staring at?” Dazai taunts as he walks by, pressing his cheek up against Atsushi’s like he's trying to get the exact angle. “Akutagawa? Aw, how adorable! I didn’t think you were into emo guys. I’ll go next door and put in an order for a wedding ca-”

“Dazai! Cut it out!” Atsushi whines, standing up from where he’s sitting on the table and slipping back into the kitchen. Dazai is giving him that mischievous look of his. Atsushi feels his cheeks heat up, and he’s glad their concealed by the mask, for the most part. “Don’t you have something better to do? Kunikida’s gonna burst another blood vessel if he sees you’re slacking again.”

“Unfortunately for me, nobody day-drinks any more! So I have to entertain myself in other ways,” Dazai says with an overdramatic sigh. Dazai is supposed to be behind the bar, but half of the time, he’s off doing something else.

“Go easy on him, Dazai. He’s not feeling well today,” Junichiro says with a pout.

Dazai mirrors his pout, but just before he can make a silly comment, Kunikida walks by and glares him down. He’s frozen for a moment, but Kunikida takes his wrist and pulls him back to where he’s supposed to be. Kunikida isn’t particularly strict about them chatting, but he seems to be annoyed enough with Dazai today.

At least he’ll be off Atsushi’s back for now.

Atsushi is tempted to ask Kenji to give the next table to someone else, but he doesn’t have the heart to. He needs the money, anyway.

He finds himself sitting in the corner of the walk-in freezer not long after he puts in his new table’s order. It’s far too hot in the kitchen, and while he felt much better in here for a minute or two, he’s starting to feel shivers run up his spine. He’s getting really tired, but he’s too uncomfortable to think about sleeping right now.

He sees the door start to open. Kunikida probably found him. He scrambles to stand up and straighten out his apron, but when he looks up, it’s -

"Go on your break," Akutagawa tells him with a huff.

"Since when do you call the shots around here?" Atsushi grumbles, Akutagawa closes the door behind him to stop the hot hair from coming in.

"You're clearly exhausted. Go take your break early and I'll take over your section," Akutagawa reiterates. "No one needs you here taking up space if you're at fifty percent. Especially in the freezer."

Atsushi is beyond annoyed with him, but he understands the sentiment. He’s been making mistakes with his tables and slacking, it’s probably better if he goes on his break early to recuperate.

“Well? Which tables are yours?” Akutagawa asks.

“I just have F-2 left,” Atsushi mumbles.

“Alright. Don’t come back until five,” Akutagwa says, already on his way out of the freezer. Atsushi glares at him until he leaves, but his shoulders relax once the door is closed. Maybe it’s not so bad. He’s not sure that table was going to tip him much anyway.

Atsushi puts in a ticket for himself just for a cup of soup, since he doesn’t have much of an appetite, and he takes it up to a table obscured from view where many of the servers sit on their breaks.

He only takes a few sips with a spoon before he lays his head on the table, deciding he’ll just shut his eyes for a while. He’s sure if he does this he’ll feel good enough to finish his evening shift with no problem.

He only briefly considers asking Kunikida if he can leave early. He can’t do that. He’s never left early. The only time he’s ever done that was to pick up Kyoka from school because she got hurt. He can push through a little fever. He’ll be fine.

He hears someone’s footsteps approach the table and stop in front of it, and he slowly lifts his head to avoid getting dizzy.

Akutagawa. Again.

Atsushi wants to voice his complaints, but Akutagawa’s hand slides something that he’s already placed on the table a bit closer to him. It’s two pills in a tiny sauce cup, on top of a ten-dollar bill.

"What are these?" Atsushi asks, a brow raised as he sits himself up.

"Fever reducers," Akutagawa says. “And the tip from F-2.”

"You just have these on you?" Atsushi asks, bringing his eyes up to meet Akutagawa’s.

“Some of us don’t have immune systems as great as yours,” Akuatagwa teases.

Atsushi huffs. “Fine, I get it.”

Akutagawa is already on his way back to where he came from before Atsushi can say anything else. He wasn’t expecting Akutagawa to give him the tip he missed out on. He was almost certain Akutagawa was the type to vulture over tables like that. And he really didn’t expect him to bring him medicine.

Maybe he should have said thank you. It’s too late now.

…

Atsushi did feel okay for a while. He thinks that medicine helped delay the inevitable, but his fever came back in full swing just an hour before he was supposed to be cut. He's starting to feel really out of it.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know how I mixed those two up,” Atsushi mumbles as he rubs his eyes. One of his tables had gotten something completely different than what they asked for, and of course, they voiced their complaint to Kunikida before Atsushi even had a chance to fix the situation.

Atsushi wishes he was still dealing with a runny nose. He'd prefer that over what's happening now. He feels dizzy and his stomach is starting to hurt.

“They’re right on top of each other in the system. I’ve made that mistake before,” Akuatagwa says, apparently overhearing the situation. Atsushi wants to shoot him a glare and tell him to stay out of it, but he secretly appreciates the defense. He probably hit the other one by accident when he was putting the order in.

“Alright, well, be more careful next time, Atsushi. You know better than to not double-check,” Kunikida says with a heavy sigh, clearly just put off by the customer’s complaints.

“Yes, sir,” Atsushi murmurs, and before he can even think about thanking Akutagawa again, he’s already whisked himself out of the kitchen.

“You and Akutagawa are getting cut first. So just finish up your tables and you can go,” Kunikida tells him. That’s the best news he’s heard all day. Both of them did double shifts today, so it makes sense, but he was totally thinking he would have to be here past close.

He watches Akutagawa take the correct order to the table that he messed up on, and they thank him. It’s weird to see him act docile with people. It’s suspicious. But he’s thankful Akutagawa took care of that. He’s really not feeling up to it himself.

Atsushi really hasn't felt this awful in a long time. Akutagawa's weird understanding is throwing him off.

He manages to get through the rest of his tables without any major issues. He spilled two glasses of water and forgot to put in a dessert, but in the end, he finished it. The last few tables tipped him less than his average, which makes it clear enough his performance wasn’t up to par, but at this point, he just wants to take his tips and leave.

Junichiro helps cash him out, and Atsushi waits along the wall outside the back end of the cafe, where Kyoka will usually pick him up. He had already shot her a text earlier when Kunikida told him he was being cut first, but she hasn’t responded yet.

He tries to call her, but still, no answer. He knows that she has soccer practice that usually runs pretty late, so he’s not too worried. But of course, this would happen the one time he wants to go home as soon as possible.

He sits with his knees pulled into his chest and his head laying atop them, his phone ringer turned on in case she calls.

He can’t help but whine for just a second as his head starts to swim around. He’d do anything to be in his bed right now.

Footsteps approach the back end, and Atsushi already knows it’s Akutagawa. The shoes he wears have a strong heel.

"Where's your ride?" Akutagawa asks after a few moments. Apparently, he’s already closed out, too.

"I dunno," he murmurs honestly. He’s too tired to argue with him. Otherwise, he would have said it’s none of his business. “She won't answer."

“Hm,” is all he says. He stands there for a few extra moments. Atsushi expects him to say something, but he just walks off to find his car without another word to Atsushi.

Atsushi ducks his head back down. He doesn’t have the energy to fight off Akutagawa’s terrible manners.

He wonders for a moment if it might be a better idea to call an Uber than to wait for Kyoka, but he realizes calling an Uber would make a dent in his profits for today, and make him feel like he shouldn’t have come to work in the first place. He groans.

He hears a car pull up to the sidewalk, and his head pops up, hoping to see his car with Kyoka in the driver’s seat - but disappointing him once again, it’s Akutagawa.

Atsushi groans again and drops his head back onto his knees, but Akutagawa honks his horn. Atsushi raises a brow. What the hell is his problem?

He stands up, using the wall to help him do so, and sees the passenger window open Akutagawa is busy on his phone, not even bothering to turn his head to look over.

Atsushi takes a few steps closer to his car, wondering what on earth he could possibly want from him.

“Get in,” Akutagawa says without looking up, once Atsushi is close to the car door.

“What? You - ”

Atsushi hears the door unlock.

Is this some weird way of telling him he’ll drive him home?

In any other situation, Atsushi would say no. Akutagawa is so rude. This is not the way to offer to drive someone home. Atsushi doesn’t want to get into this asshole’s car, and he doesn’t want him to know where he lives.

But his desire to be asleep in his bed trumps everything so fast that he’s already climbed into the passenger seat.

“You’re so rude,” Atsushi grumbles as Akutagawa hands him his phone with a bar to enter his address. Atsushi feebly types it in before placing it into the phone holder he sees. “You could’ve just said I’ll drive you home.”

“I didn’t feel like arguing with you,” Akutagawa says simply as he starts to drive off.

“Who says I would’ve argued?” Atsushi huffs, buckling his seatbelt. He tries to make sure it sits loose across his lap so there's not too much pressure on his aching stomach.

“You always argue.”

“Yeah, ‘cause you’re rude!” Atsushi reiterates. Akutagawa doesn’t seem to care about what he has to say, but honestly, Atsushi will just take the ride home give up. He’ll never win an argument against someone like Akutagawa.

Akutagawa is strange. He doesn’t have any music playing in his car. Not even the buzz of the radio, it’s completely off. His car is clean. Too clean, but Atsushi thinks that part makes sense. He’s kind of a good driver. That doesn’t make any sense.

“Why are you doing this, anyway?” Atsushi asks, turning his head over. Akutagawa doesn’t move his head. He’s stuck straight forward, even as they pull up to a light.

“I have time to kill. And you said your ride wouldn’t answer,” Akutagawa says simply.

“Okay, but you hate me,” Atsushi reminds him.

Akutagawa doesn’t say anything, and just before Atsushi gets half the mind to keep going, he hears his phone start to ring. Kyoka, he guesses, and answers without checking the caller ID.

“I’m really sorry. The practice went longer than usual, we had to start late. I’m on my way,” Kyoka says gently. Atsushi can hear the guilt in her voice. He feels bad.

“No, no, it’s okay. I, uh…I got a ride, so don’t worry about it,” Atsushi assures her. He sounds a little more nervous than he wants to.

“Okay, that’s good. I can pick up some medicine for you, then,” Kyoka says. Atsushi only briefly mentioned to her that he had a cold, but they both know they don’t have anything for that at their apartment.

“That’d be great. Thanks, Kyoka,” he says with a little sigh. “I’ll see you later. Drive safe, okay?”

“I always do. I’ll see you later,” she says, and the line goes dead.

“Sorry. My ride,” Atsushi says as he slides his phone back into his pocket, although, he’s not sure why he’s apologizing. It’s not like Akutagawa was listening to something.

“I figured,” Akutagawa says. “Was that your…”

“Sister. She’s my sister,” Atsushi clarifies, quickly realizing Akiutagawa was assuming something else.

“I didn’t know you had a sister,” Akutagawa says, only sounding mildly surprised.

“Well, she’s…it’s complicated. We’re not blood-related, but…I don’t know. I just say she’s my sister,” Atsushi answers, realizing he probably shouldn’t get into all of the specifics with Akutagawa.

“I see,” Akutagawa nods. “I have a sister as well.”

“You do?” Atsushi says, tilting his head. Akutagawa just nods. “But she’s like, your sister-sister? Like, blood-related?”

“She is,” Akutagawa confirms. “But, blood-related or not, it doesn’t matter. A sister is a sister.”

Atsushi is more than a little surprised to hear that coming from him. Atsushi’s been given a lot of problems before about his relationship with Kyoka. It’s made her time at school incredibly complicated, between the on-paper stuff and the teachers causing issues, so it’s sort of nice to hear that from someone else. He wants to thank him, but he’s unsure he wants to get into all of that.

The nausea starts to settle in a little more, and he can't help but let a quiet groan escape at the feeling. He lays a hand over his tummy. Akutagawa briefly looks over, silently asking what's wrong, Atsushi thinks.

"Sorry. Kinda nauseous," Atsushi mumbles. Normally, he wouldn't admit that.

"Lay the seat back and close your eyes. There's a button at the side of the seat," Akutagawa tells him. Atsushi reaches down and manages to find it right away, and leans the seat back so he’s laying at an angle. It’s a little embarrassing, but Akutagawa is the one that suggested it. And it does help, just a tiny bit.

“By the way,” Atsushi starts before he closes his eyes, deciding instead to thank him for all of the other things he missed today. He’s feeling pretty embarrassed in general. “Thanks for helping me out and stuff.”

“It wasn’t any trouble,” Akutagawa says simply.

“Maybe not, but, I dunno,” Atsushi says through a yawn. Everything he's feeling right now - the heat in his face, the dizziness, the nausea, it's all slowly subsiding and being replaced with the urge to sleep. “You could’ve just pretended you didn’t notice.”

“Why would I do that?” Akutagawa says, sounding confused.

“You’re like, the rudest person I know,” Atsushi reminds him. He’s told him this many times before.

“You’re being rather rude to the one who is deciding whether or not you get home tonight,” Akutagawa grumbles, his fake threat sounding a lot more ominous than it needed to. It almost sends a shiver up Atsushi’s spine.

“Okay, okay! Fine, thank you. I mean it,” Atsushi murmurs, hoping that will offset his earlier comment, and Akutagawa only sighs.

Atsushi starts to get much more tired as they continue their drive, and he’s almost asleep by the time they arrive. To Atsushi’s surprise, Akutagawa tells him to feel better just before Atsushi closes the door, but he’s so dumbfounded by that coming from him that he doesn’t say anything back.

And then, Akutagawa drives off.

…

Only a few weeks later, their situations are reversed.

“Atsushi, your drinks are up at the bar for A-2,” Kunikida says as he walks past him, busy with something else, but the comment flies over his head.

Atsushi's been keeping an eye on Akutagawa. He hasn’t been acting quite right. His usual bad manners have tapered down quite a bit, and right now, he’s leaned against the counter, staring at the tickets hanging up over the window. Or at least, that’s what it looks like. Atsushi thinks he’s got something else on his mind.

He tries to eavesdrop on a conversation Yosano picks up with Akutagawa as Atsushi sifts through the tickets, pretending to look busy, but it’s too loud in the kitchen for him to hear anything. He doesn’t hear more than a word out of Akutagawa.

“Atsushi, the bar, please,” Kunikida huffs. Atsushi almost jumps, but he does as he’s told. They’re far too busy right now for him to ponder what’s on Akutagawa’s mind.

“There he is! Bad kitty, forgetting your drinks,” Dazai says from behind the bar as Atsushi approaches, a mischievous smile on his face as usual. “Also, do me a favor, will you? Akutagawa put this in but we’re out. It’s on the board.”

Dazai hands him a ticket. Akutagawa usually doesn’t make mistakes like that, especially considering their board is in plain sight beside their ordering software.

“I’ll tell him,” Atsushi says with a nod as he takes the tray with his drinks, and whisks them away to A-2.

Just as he plans to head back into the kitchen, he’s flagged down by another table. Atsushi only has one or two of his own tables right now, he just came off of his break not that long ago, so he doesn’t mind helping them out.

“Sorry to bother you, but we haven’t seen our server in a while. We just wanted to put our orders in,” The woman says, not sounding particularly miffed, thankfully.

“No problem, I’ll take them for you,” Atsushi says as he pulls out his notepad. It’s probably Yosano’s table, Atsushi has taken note of her chatting with another of her tables for quite a while, now. “Did you catch their name?”

“I didn’t, but…he has black hair? White tips,” she confirms. The man she's sitting with nods.

Atsushi’s heart sinks. Yet another thing that Akutagawa doesn’t usually do - forget tables. If anything, he’s far too eager to get their orders in as soon as possible, something Kunikida has had to talk to him about. Atsushi takes their orders and heads back to the kitchen, hoping to find Akutagawa there, and he does.

He’s still in the same spot, staring forward with his arms crossed over his chest, but something about this time makes Atsushi realize that he looks nauseous. That isn’t a foreign sight to him. Akutagawa has been sick several times in the few months he’s been working here, for reasons Atsushi can’t be sure about. He’s breathing heavily through his nose, like he’s trying to will his nausea away, his lips pressed into a firm line.

Atsushi has the bar ticket and the note page with his table’s order on it, but he doesn’t have the heart to pester him about that right now. Kunikida appears in the kitchen again. He briefly eyes the two of them, looking confused.

"I can watch your tables for a minute, if you need to -"

Akutagawa doesn't reply, but it's answer enough when a hand flies up to his mouth and he runs off, out of the kitchen and toward the restrooms. Yosano enters the kitchen just as Akutagawa runs past her, and her face falls, seemingly understanding the situation right away. She probably knew he was sick. Yosano used to be a field nurse in the military and often picks up on things like that.

Atsushi was going to suggest he go outside for some fresh air, since that’s usually what he does when he’s not well - he wasn’t expecting him to actually need to throw up, and now he’s concerned. Kunikida seems to mirror this sentiment with the look he’s giving him.

“I’ll go check on him, can you put this in for me?” Atsushi asks as he hands the order to Kunikida, running off before he can ask any further questions. He knows Dazai will bother him about the drink, so he doesn’t worry about that.

He’s not entirely sure why he’s doing this. He normally won't bother Akutagawa at all when he's not feeling well, but for some reason, he feels obligated to this time, especially since this seems worse than usual.

Really, he's just making sure his tables get covered. They're in the middle of a rush right now.

Atsushi travels down the hallway to the very end where the restrooms are - they’re small considering the size of the restaurant, and they only hold three stalls, so Atsushi won’t be able to sneak in all nonchalantly.

He can hear Akutagawa retching through the door. Atsushi cringes at the sound - it sounds painful, followed by coughs and heavy breaths. He thinks it might not be a good idea to wander in right now, so he opens the storage closet at the very end of the hall to grab the closed for cleaning sign, and hangs it on the door. That way, no unwanted visitors can walk in.

Atsushi waits a moment to walk in. It's quiet for long enough and he decides to take the doorknob into his hand. A small, pained whimper breaks the silence.

"Are you okay?" Atsushi asks meekly once the door swings shut behind him. The whimper he heard is enough to tell him the answer is no, but it’s doubtful Akutagawa would admit that.

"I'm fine. Get out," Akutagawa mumbles. Atsushi guesses he's in the stall furthest from the door.

"This is the public bathroom," Atsushi reminds him with a small sigh. "Stomach flu?"

"No," Akutagawa grumbles.

Atsushi pouts. Why is he denying it? "Kinda sounds like -"

"I know what's wrong with me, Nakajima. Leave me alone," Akutagawa hisses. The venom in his tone is telling enough. Unfortunately for him, Atsushi never knows when to quit.

"I'll go check on your tables," Atsushi tells him, that being his plan to begin with. He doesn't have a feeling Akutagawa will be leaving the restrooms very soon, based on just how nauseous he seemed to be earlier.

"You can keep them," Akutagawa mumbles. A cough or two ends his sentence.

"I'm not gonna keep them. You did most of the work," Atsushi huffs. He thinks Akutagawa has four or five tables right now, almost all of which have been here for a while.

"Keep them," Akutagawa insists. His voice sounds a little hoarse and scratchy. He's sure it hurts. Atsushi ended up throwing up once he got home, that time he was sick a few weeks ago. That feeling is fresh in his mind.

"You sure?" Atsushi says. Clearly, Akutagawa will keep arguing no matter the case.

"I'm sure," he says. "Please go."

That last part almost sounds desperate. Not so much of an argument, more of a plea. Atsushi almost feels bad for him.

"Just let me know if you need something," Atsushi says as he takes the handle of the door. He just hears a vague hum from Akutagawa before he slips out of the bathroom.

Atsushi closes the door behind him and adjusts the sign, jumping when Dazai appears in the hallway, looking rather inquisitive. Yosano appears behind him, arms crossed over her chest.

"Everything okay over here?" Dazai asks with a curious tilt of his head.

"Oh…well, sort of," Atsushi murmurs, straightening out his apron. "Akutagawa's sick."

"Hmm…again, huh?" Dazai says with a little sigh. Yosano sighs too, like Atsushi has confirmed what she’s already thought. "Is it his cough?"

"Um…no, he's uh, throwing up," Atsushi explains meekly. He’s not sure what he means by his cough, but he’s sure Dazai knows more about Akutagawa than Atsushi does. He used to work over at the cafe with him, but he’s been in the restaurant with the rest of them for much longer than Akutagawa.

“He didn’t seem well before his lunch break, either. I told him to go home,” Yosano sighs. She doesn’t exactly have that kind of authority, but Kunikida tends to let her do what she wants. She’s been working at the restaurant longer than all of them.

"I see," Dazai sighs again with a pout. "Alright…I'll let Kunikida know, then."

Dazai wanders off to find Kunikida, even though Atsushi heard at least three tickets print out behind the bar while they were standing there.

“Thank you for checking on him, Atsushi,” Yosano says with an appreciative nod, and she heads in the opposite direction to check on her tables. Atsushi didn’t think it was really any trouble.

For the next hour or so, Atsushi feels like he's running around without a head, but he manages to get all of Akutagawa's tables cleared out, as well as his own.

But he doesn't see Akutagawa for the rest of that shift. He thinks he briefly sees Kunikida and Dazai talking with someone in the hall, but he can't be sure that was him.

"Atsushi," Kunikida says with a huff. He's holding the closed for cleaning sign, and he looks thoroughly annoyed. "Was this you?"

"Uhh…yes?" Atsushi says, caught red-handed upon entering the kitchen.

"We've gotten several complaints about the men's restroom being closed tonight. I assumed it was actually being cleaned, but apparently, the sign was put there for no reason," Kunikida huffs. "Care to explain?"

"I…well, you see -" Atsushi starts, but apparently, Kunikida doesn't have the time to hear him out.

"Either way, either you don't do this, or you fix it once it's not needed. Understand?" Kunikida says. He sounds like a disappointed father, which stings a bit more than it needs to, but Atsushi nods.

"Yes, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that during a rush. Or, in general," Atsushi admits awkwardly.

Kunikida gives him a sigh to acknowledge his apology before he walks off with the sign. Atsushi ducks his head and heads back to the salad bar to finish his closing tasks.

Yosano wanders over to help, apparently having finished early with her own tasks. Atsushi thanks here flipping the salad bar isn't easy to do on his own.

"You sure had a lot of tables today. Did you take Akutagawa's?" she asks him, her hands and eyes busy with their job.

"Oh, yeah…he asked me to," Atsushi says, deciding to lie to avoid being accused of being a vulture. "Have you…have you seen him?"

"Kunikida was talking to him earlier, but I don't think he went home. His bag is still here," Yosano says. Atsushi hadn't even thought of checking on that.

She did confirm he was here recently to talk to Kunikida. That's good. Atsushi was worried it was bad enough that he left early, which would be greatly concerning. If he's still around, Atsushi can give him the tips he's owed from the tables he had to leave behind.

Junichiro, on the register once again helps Atsushi close out and sort out his tips once he's done with his closing tasks. Atsushi held onto the receipts from Akutagawa’s tables, and sorts out what he owes him, reaching over to take a paperclip to keep the bills together. He decided to just round up to the nearest dollar.

"Can you set this aside for Akutagawa when he closes out?" Atsushi asks, handing Junichiro the folded cash.

Junichiro tilts his head. He doesn't take the money.

"I took over some of his tables during the rush. I just wanna make sure it gets to him," Atsushi explains, his hand still stretched out to Junichiro.

"You don't wanna give it to him?" Junichiro asks, sounding rather confused.

Atsushi hadn't really considered that. He's not really even sure where Akutagawa is hiding right now. “I feel like he wouldn’t take it from me.”

“I could say the same thing," Junichiro tells him, and he's probably right. Akutagawa wouldn't be happy at all to take something like that indirectly when he thinks they made a deal. Atsushi lowers his hands and stuffs the wad of cash into his apron pocket.

"Any idea where he is?" Atsushi asks.

Junichiro nods. "He's been at the cafe since Kunikida talked to him."

That makes sense. The cafe is closed around this time. He wonders if Kunikida sent him there to rest for a while. Atsushi is pretty sure his key works for the connecting door, and he heads for that direction.

He's able to unlock it and enter the cafe, only illuminated by the blue glow of the cake display case. Akutagawa is there - sitting at one of the back tables, Dazai stood next to him, a hand on his shoulder. Interesting. Akutagawa is slowly standing from a table in the corner, using the booth for leverage, not looking happy to see Atsushi in the slightest.

He wonders what they were talking about in there.

He expects some sort of random outburst from Dazai, but he doesn’t say much of anything, he just smiles at Atsushi as he heads for the door behind him. He gives him a little nod, and then he’s gone.

"You, uh, feel any better?" Atsushi asks a little awkwardly once Dazai is gone, making sure the door is shut behind him. He wants to take a few steps further, but for some reason, he doesn't.

"No," Akutagawa says with a huff, busying himself with folding up his apron, eyes averted. "Don't you have better things to do than to bother me?"

"C'mon, I'm trying to be nice," Atsushi huffs, forcing his hand in Akutagawa’s direction with the bills he had before he can chicken out. "Here."

Only then does Akutagawa look over at him. He lifts a brow. He looks confused.

"It's from your tables. When you got sick," Atsushi reminds him. He thought it was kind of obvious.

Akutagawa's shoulders drop and he huffs. He sets the apron down on the table. "I told you to keep them."

"They weren't my tables, though. And it's not like you got lazy and dropped them," Atsushi says. His hand is still stretched out. "I know you need the money. So take it."

"And who are you to make assumptions like that?" Akutagawa bites. Obviously, that's not an accusation most people like to hear. Akutagawa’s expression has changed from confused to completely pissed off. Atsushi realizes that’s probably a comment he could have kept to himself.

"'Cause I've never seen you call out sick even though you're sick all the time," Atsushi mumbles with a light shrug. "I've never seen you call out for anything."

"Neither have you," Akutagawa mumbles, like he has a point to make.

"Yeah, ‘cause I need the money," Atsushi says, proving his point in the end. He waves the money at him one more time, and Akutagawa finally steps forward to gingerly take it from him. He doesn’t look very happy about it, but if Atsushi had to guess, that has more to do with his pride than anything else.

"Thank you," Akutagawa says quietly, still holding the wad of cash like he's not sure if he really wants to accept it or not.

"No problem," Atsushi says. Sure, he almost lost his mind for a minute there, covering all of those tables on top of his own, but it all got done in the end. Akutagawa went out of his way to help Atsushi when he was sick a few weeks ago, so he doesn’t mind doing the same for him. “It’s the least I could do.”

Akutagawa ends up walking past him without another word, and he's out of the cafe, headed toward Junichiro to close out, with no parting words aside from a cough or two. Atsushi hopes he'll feel better soon. He's a little worried about him.

Atsushi ends up on the phone with Kyoka for a while, sitting in the cafe in the dark as everything slowly shuts down at the restaurant next door. She wanted his advice about an ongoing situation with her soccer team, and although Atsushi didn't find himself particularly helpful, she took enough away from his advice to feel satisfied.

"I shouldn't be too much longer. I'm sorry these keep going so late," Kyoka says with a quiet sigh.

"Don't worry, I don't mind," Atsushi says. He wants to be home as much as anyone else does, but in the end, it doesn't matter to him what time. As long as he gets to sleep. "I'll see you later, yeah? Just text me when you're headed out."

"I will. See you later," she says, and the line clicks.

By now, the restaurant is closed. He doesn't see any figures moving inside, and all of the lights have gone off by now. He figures he might as well go outside and wait.

Atsushi slips out of the back door of the cafe and locks it, surprised to find one last car in the parking lot. For a moment he thinks it's Kunikida's, but he knows this one a little too up close and personal - it's Akutagawa's.

Akutagawa is sitting on the pavement beside his car, leaning against the door, his head in his hands.

Atsushi doesn't have the heart to ignore him, especially now that he's already outside. He's a bit more concerned than he'd like to admit. He really hopes he's not crying.

"Hey," Atsushi starts as he walks over.

"Nakajima," Akutagawa grumbles, sounding like he's about to start scolding him. He lifts his head, and he's not crying, thankfully, but he looks awful, and frustrated. He looks just about as pale as the white tips of his hair.

"Can I drive you home or something? Or call an Uber for you?" Atsushi asks. He has to assume he's not feeling well to do it himself, hence why he's still here. Even Kunikida has already gone, and staying past Kunikida leaving is just unheard of.

"Why on earth would I let you do that?" he growls. He attempts to scramble to stand up, as if trying to prove he's been capable of it the entire time, but the action seems to make him dizzy enough that he has to use the car door handle to stay steady. He lays a hand over the side of his stomach, like the movement made him feel worse.

"Cause you did it for me a few weeks ago. Remember?" Atsushi asks. Akutagawa glares at him, not seeing his point, evidently. "You look awful. Let me help."

"I don't - I don't want your pity, Nakajima -" he breathes out, only seconds before he's sucked into a coughing fit. It nearly forces him back to the ground. Atsushi bites his lip at how painful it sounds. He leans heavily on the door for support.

“I’ll go get you some water or something,” Atsushi says, but Akutagawa’s coughs seem to have died down enough for him to get a word in.

“I don’t need water,” he mumbles, his voice now left scratchy and hoarse. “It’s not my throat.”

Atsushi isn’t entirely sure what he means by that. What else could it possibly be?

Akutagawa straightens himself out, like he’s trying to make himself look presentable despite everything. Atsushi doesn’t understand him at all. He can’t swallow his pride long enough to accept help from anyone, but he expects others to do the same.

He tries one last time.

“Either you give me your keys or I’m calling an Uber for you,” Atsushi says with an annoyed huff. “Your choice.”

Akuatagwa looks at him, this time not a glare, but more of a, you’re not going to let this go, are you?

Akutagawa pulls his keys out of his pocket and begrudgingly hands them to Atsushi, but just before Atsushi can take them, he pulls his hand back to his chest.

"I get awful motion sickness if I'm not driving," Akutagawa mumbles, his gaze averted, looking embarrassed to have to admit that.

"Well, at least it's your car. So I don't have room to complain if you puke," Atsushi offers. He appreciates the warning. He wonders if that’s the reason he hasn’t called an Uber for himself. “And, that stuff doesn’t really bother me, so don’t worry about it.”

And with that, Akutagawa finally hands him the keys.

Once they get in, Akutagawa enters his address into his phone while Atsushi is busy adjusting the seat and mirrors of the car, secretly trying to figure out how to start Akutagawa’s car without asking him. Eventually, Akutagawa’s just staring at him, wondering why he hasn’t done it already.

“It’s a push to start,” Akuatgawa says.

Atsushi doesn’t really know what that means. He’s only been in cars where you turn a key. This must be a new thing. He just meekly turns his head, secretly asking for more guidance. Akutagawa sighs.

“Foot on the break and hand on the button,” he says with a roll of his eyes.

Atsushi does just that, and miraculously, the car turns on. He’s impressed. All the keys are really good for is unlocking the car, then.

“Maybe I shouldn’t trust you driving my car,” Akutagawa grumbles, turnings his head toward the window. “You’re incredibly foolish.”

“Hey, I’m a great driver!” Atsushi defends. Akutagawa only hums, sounding completely unconvinced, but Atsushi is determined to prove he can drive just fine.

Akutagawa spends the rest of the drive completely silent, staring out the window as Atsushi drives him home. It’s not far at all from the restaurant, just about the same distance as Atsushi’s place, only in the opposite direction. Atsushi drives a little more carefully than he normally would, with the knowledge that Akutagawa gets car sick - but even so, he’s very obviously nauseous the entire time. He sees him in his peripheral a few times, pressing a hand against his temple. He wonders if he’s got a bad headache, too.

“Akutagawa?” Atsushi starts.

Akutagawa just slightly turns his head to let Atsushi know he’s listening.

“Was Dazai talking to you in there?” Atsushi says.

“Mhm,” he answers. Normally, he’d expect him to say something like, and why is that any of your business? But maybe hes too exhausted to be his usual defensive self.

“Can I ask about what?” Atsushi says. He doesn’t like to be nosey, at least not outwardly like this, he just thought it was strange - especially once Dazai left the cafe, without even a silly glance to spare.

“I have some health issues,” Akutagawa says quietly. He sounds ashamed, almost. “He was just…giving me some advice.”

Health issues, huh?

“Helpful advice, I hope?” Atsushi says.

“He…he can be, um…” Akutagawa starts, but he thinks his car sickness has already gotten to be too much. He leans his head back a bit and presses a fist up to his lips. Atsushi hears him swallow back. “Sorry, I…”

“Does laying the seat back help you? It helped me a little when you said it,” Atsushi suggests. He really thought for a moment there that Akutagawa was going to double over and throw up over the floor mat, but he takes Atsushi up on that suggestion, and lays back, his eyes shut for a while.

Atsushi approaches the parking garage - some fancy system where the gate scans the car’s plate and lets them in, proof enough that Akutagawa lives in a fairly nice building. That’s interesting. Atsushi was under the assumption that Akutagawa never took off work because he needed the money, but he has a nice car, and lives in a nice place, from the looks of it. Maybe it’s simply his pride? Atsushi doesn’t know.

Atsushi ends up parking on a high floor without many cars around, just in case he were to somehow hit another car in his attempt to park. Atsushi starts to say something, but the words are completely lost on his tongue when Akutagawa suddenly swings the car door open and nearly throws himself out. At first, Atsushi is in shock he was in that much of a hurry to get away from him, but he cranes his neck to find that Akutagawa is on his hands and knees gagging, vomit splattering onto the pavement below him.

Well, he did a good job holding off, at least.

Atsushi leaves his things in the car and just takes his keys with him before he turns to the other side. He imagines that Akutagawa wouldn’t want any comfort in this kind of situation, but Atsushi’s body acts before he can think that through. He kneels beside him and lays a gentle hand on his back. He’s surprised by how warm he feels, and that Akutagawa doesn’t make any attempts to get away from him.

He really doesn’t sound good. His retches sound painful, and Atsushi guesses with the way that he’s breathing that it feels that way too. He sucks in breaths like they’re hard to come by, and Atsushi hears that whimpering sound he heard from him last time, too. It has to hurt.

Atsushi just rubs his back as gently as he can. He’s tempted to make a joke about his driving, but he’s almost worried that Akuatagwa isn’t all there. He looks like he’s so worn out that he’ll pass out any second.

It’s been long enough since he’s brought something up that Atsushi thinks he should be done, so Atsushi helps him sit back on his heels out of fear that he might fall forward.

His eyes are glassy and completely unfocused, a look he’s familiar with. Kyoka used to get out-of-the-blue fevers where her eyes would look just like this, and Atsushi’s surprised he hadn’t put together the pieces already. He takes Akuatgawa’s wrist to help him stand up, something he’s hardly able to do, and Atsushi reaches his free hand out toward his forehead to confirm his suspicion. It’s hot, and his skin is clammy.

He's really starting to worry about him, now.

"You have a fever," Atsushi mumbles, although Akuatagwa must be aware of that if he feels anywhere near as awful as he looks.

“I’m fine,” he croaks. His tone sounds wobbly, not at all convincing.

Atsushi doesn’t let go of his wrist. He’ll crumple to the ground if he does.

“What’s your apartment number?” Atsushi asks him. He’s almost wondering if he should be proactive and just hook an arm around his waist.

“Twenty… twenty-two sixteen,” Akutagawa mumbles.

Atsushi is glad he got that out of him, because just a second later, his eyes roll backward and his knees buckle beneath him, rather gracefully making his descent to the pavement.

Shit.

Atsushi catches him before his knees can hit the ground, but whether he’s completely unconscious or not, he’s so out of it that it doesn’t matter. His eyes are just half-lidded, and he’s so faint and hot that Atsushi isn’t sure how he even managed half of a conversation earlier in the car.

And he thinks it says enough that Akutagawa gave him his apartment number without a single argument. He must have known he was about to pass out.

All Atsushi has to do is shift his position a bit before he’s carrying Akutagawa in his arms, something he would have never dreamed of doing this morning, he’d imagine - but there’s no other way to help him. He’s really, really sick. Atsushi can’t leave him here. He knows he has a sister, but has no way to contact her - and even if he did, what if she’s not home? What if she’s asleep? Do they even live together?

“I wonder if you’d do this for me,” Atsushi mumbles once he steps inside the elevator, crouching down to lean Akutagawa against the wall. He’s twenty-two floors up, which is kind of insane. Akutagawa doesn’t respond to his comment. His head rolls to the side, and he looks a little more awake, now, but not nearly enough to walk on his own, he doesn’t think. “You still with me? Akutagawa?”

Akutagawa doesn’t give any sign that he’s conscious enough to respond, other than a quiet, pained groan. Atsushi frowns. He wonders how this happened so quickly. Maybe it was the car sickness or the throwing up that tired him out so much, but he’s certain he’s been dealing with this fever the whole time. It can’t be that it just came out of nowhere. Has his body just given up now that he knows he’s almost home?

Once they get to close enough to the floor they need to be on, Atsushi scoops Akutagawa back in his arms and slips out of the elevator, searching for the number Akutagawa gave him, before eventually finding it. Akutagawa has a keycard for this on his keys, Atsushi thinks, and he manages to pull it out of his pocket and press it against the lock without having to set Akutagawa down. Kyoka would be impressed, he thinks.

This is a nice place. A gorgeous view, too. Atsushi takes a bit too long to admire everything. Nice, sleek furniture, minimal decorating, and a fancy television over a fake fireplace. Ridiculously clean, too, almost like a film set. He really never expected Akutagawa to live in a place like this.

At the end of the hallway, Atsushi notices an open bedroom door, and he heads there to set Akutagawa down on the bed. He’s as careful and gentle as he can think to be, but still, there’s no reaction from him, nothing enough for Atsushi to feel better about this situation. He just relaxes a bit, his face doesn’t look so tense, but he still very obviously feels horrible.

There’s that quiet, pained whimper again, and the tension bleeds back into his face. Atsushi is concerned about the sweat forming along his hairline. He really isn’t sure how high that fever is, but it’s definitely not something low-grade.

What does Atsushi do now? He can’t just leave him here while he’s so sick, but what right does Atsushi have to stay here and take care of him? Is that crossing a line?

Atsushi takes his phone out in a panic, remembering he was waiting on a text from Kyoka.

Luckily, the text was only from a few minutes ago. Atsushi quickly types up a response.

Well, now he’s just straight-up lied. Explaining this situation to her is a little too much for him to want to type up over text.

He hears a groan from Akutagawa, and he turns his body just a bit, laying an arm over his middle. Atsushi watches him for a few moments, but Akutagawa doesn’t seem to take in Atsushi’s presence at all. He coughs a few times and finally opens his eyes a bit, but still, nothing.

Atsushi’s heart sinks. He really looks awful. Part of him is almost wondering if he should take him to a hospital, but he can’t do that without his permission. That would definitely be crossing a line.

He wanders into an adjacent room that he assumes to be a bathroom, and he’s right - it’s just as clean and fancy as the rest of the place - and Atsushi finds a small stack of wash clothes in a basket. He takes one, wets it, and wrings some of the water out, figuring that’s a good place to start.

When he walks back into the room, he’s completely frozen, because there’s another person that wasn’t there before. A girl wearing an oversized shirt and shorts to sleep, with long, dark hair, leaned over Akutagawa’s unconscious form, brushing the hair out of his face. She has to be the sister he mentioned.

She turns, or rather, jerks her head around when she hears the squeak of the bathroom door, and Atsushi very quickly realizes that she has a knife in her hand, and her wild eyes have found her target.

The girl looks terrified. Atsushi can’t blame her, there’s a stranger in her apartment and her brother is unconscious.

"Hey, I - I'm sorry. I'm just - I'm one of his coworkers," he says, bringing his hands up beside his head, the washcloth still gripped in one of them. She’s still very on edge, but the tension melts from her shoulders after she looks him over. She seems to take note of the apron, and hopefully takes that as a sign that he’s telling the truth.

"Nakajima?" she asks nervously.

Atsushi blinks. "Um, yeah."

"Why…why are you here?" she asks. Atsushi is still stuck on the fact that she knows his name, or knows enough about him to connect whatever dots she has.

"Oh, uh…he just - he wasn't feeling well. Or, well enough to drive himself home," Atsushi murmurs, his hands still up, because she’s still gripping the knife. "So, uh, I offered."

The girl seems to realize in that moment that she’s still holding a knife in her hand and quickly sets it on the nightstand with a meek apology, and Atsushi lowers his hands with a sigh of relief. He didn’t think she was going to start stabbing him, but he can never be sure. He’s never met her.

“Has he been sick all day?” she asks, briefly turning her head back to her brother.

“I only did the evening shift today, but - he’s been sick since I got there, yeah,” Atsushi nods, taking a few cautious steps closer, reaching a hand out to give her the washcloth. She takes it gratefully and gently lays it over her brother’s forehead. “I just noticed the fever once we got here, but…he’s thrown up twice, I think. And, he passed out in the parking lot. He's been…like this since then. Completely out of it."

She says something quiet to him as she lays a hand on his cheek. Atsushi doesn’t quite catch it. He wonders if it might be his first name, and Atsushi realizes he doesn’t even know the initial of it.

“I’m so sorry. He can be really difficult sometimes,” she says with a little sigh. Atsushi didn’t mention anything about that, but maybe she just assumes he’s had to deal with his difficult nature at some point during all of this, and that’s definitely true. “Do you have somewhere to be?”

Atsushi shakes his head. “Not really, but I can - ”

"You can stay the night if you want to. I can drive you wherever you need to be in the morning," she says. “It’s pretty late.”

Atsushi has to agree on that. It has gotten late, and Ubers around this time tend to be more expensive than necessary - and he would never ask her to go out of her way to drive him home at this time. He doesn’t mind staying, especially since Kyoka’s not home. Atsushi nods.

She leads him out to the couch and quickly admits she has no idea how to pull it out into a bed, but Atsushi insists he doesn’t mind, it’s a far nicer couch than the one he has at home, and definitely wide enough to comfortably sleep someone. She gets a sheet and blanket for him and asks him if he’d like a change of clothes to sleep in, which he agrees to, but realizes a little too late that he would be wearing Akutagawa’s clothes.

Black sweatpants and a black shirt - sounds about right for someone like him. The shirt has a faded word on it with letters that he can’t entirely make out, but it says something like Rashomon, he thinks. He tries not to think too much about the fact that he’s wearing his clothes.

“I’m so sorry. I never introduced myself,” she says with an apologetic bow of her head as she hands him an extra pillow. “I’m Gin. Ryuunosuke’s sister.”

Ryuunosuke, huh? It’s kind of a pretty name. Not as harsh as his last name. It suits him, he thinks.

“It’s nice to meet you, Gin. I’m sorry all this happened,” Atsushi says with a sigh. “I’m Atsushi. Nakajima.”

“Please don’t apologize. I’m thankful you were kind enough to help him,” she says quietly.

Gin tells him goodnight and disappears into the room with her brother as Atsushi lays his head down. He’s got a bit of a headache. Maybe he’s stressed himself out with everything going on. He’s sure it’ll fade once he’s rested his head for a while.

Is he all that kind, even? He’s sure anyone else would have done this for Akutagawa. He’s just more likely to today because he’s repaying a favor, he thinks.

He hopes Akutagawa will feel better in the morning.

…

Normally, Atsushi wakes up around five in the morning. It’s a habit he picked up from growing up in an orphanage. But today, he checks his phone the moment he wakes up, and realizes it’s almost nine. He has to be at work at ten, so he’s not too worried about the timing, but he’s never slept in this late.

He sits himself up and stretches his arms out with a yawn, and sees Gin in the kitchen.

“Do you like coffee? I can make you some,” she says. He wonders how she turned out to be so kind, compared to her incredibly rude brother. He’d imagine that he would pour water over his face for oversleeping on his couch.

“Oh - that’d be great, thanks,” he nods, swinging his legs over the side. He doesn’t see any sign of Akutagawa around, so hopefully he’s still resting.

They have a fancy coffee machine, too. Atsushi’s a little jealous. He usually just does pour-overs. Gin walks over with a quickly made cup of coffee for him and sets it on the coffee table. Atsushi thanks her and bows his head before he takes it into his hands.

"Do you need to be at work?" she asks. Atsushi didn’t notice until now, but she looks exhausted. Atsushi didn’t have that impression last night. He wonders how long she’s been up for.

Atsushi nods. "I can take an Uber, I don't want to inconvenience you -"

"It's the least I can do to thank you for looking out for him," Gin says. “I don’t mind.”

Atsushi appreciates the thought. He did kind of go a lot further out of his way than he expected himself to, but he doesn’t expect to be paid back for it. He’s just repaying Akutagawa from a few weeks ago, that’s all.

"Is he still asleep?" Atsushi asks after taking a few sips of his coffee.

Gin shakes her head, looking a little confused. "I took him to the hospital a few hours ago. We didn’t wake you?”

Atsushi's heart drops into his stomach. The hospital?

“N-no, I don’t - I don’t think I woke up at all,” Atsushi stammers. He’s a heavy sleeper, normally. “The hospital? Is he okay? What happened?”

"He's there all the time," she says casually, but there’s a hint of concern in her voice that she’s trying to hide. "His lungs don't work the way they're supposed to, and won't take his oxygen to work, so…sometimes he runs into issues. He was having some trouble breathing.”

Atsushi almost feels nauseous himself, now. Akutagawa told him last night that he has some health issues, some that apparently Dazai knows about. But he didn’t know that he was supposed to be on oxygen therapy.

“But, he's not critical or anything, so don't worry too much," she says. "He'll just need to be on oxygen for a while and IV fluids too, since he was so sick…he'll be okay."

Atsushi feels terrible. He's starting to realize it's pretty likely that she only left him because she said she would take him to where he needed to be in the morning. He already offered to take an Uber, but Gin has come all the way back here, and he doesn't want it to be for nothing.

"I won't be long. And I don't mind getting to work early. That way you can get back to him faster," Atsushi says, scrambling to stand up and fold the sheets he was given. Gin hides it well. She's learned to be casual about it. But Atsushi knows he'd be out of his mind if he had to take his sister to the hospital. It can't be easy on her conscience.

“Oh, it’s okay. I have school to get to, actually,” Gin says.

Atsushi shrinks when she says that. He didn’t know she was in school. Atsushi himself is eighteen, and she looks to be around the same age as him. Maybe she just started. It makes sense, considering the time of year.

“You don’t need to go back to him?” he asks.

“He’s okay, really. He’s fully conscious and everything, just a little out of it. It’s always the chest pains that are so bad for him, but they’ve passed for now,” Gin says, probably realizing that Atsushi is worrying about Akutagawa being by himself. “I’d…I’d like to go back to him, but, I’ve skipped school so many times to stay with him that they’ve threatened to kick me out.”

That almost makes Atsushi feel worse. He didn’t have any idea that Akutagawa was really that sick. He’s always poked fun at him for having a terrible immune system, when really, it’s been something else entirely.

“I can go stay with him, if you want. If you’re worried,” Atsushi says meekly.

“I think you’re more worried than I am,” Gin says with a little half-smile, and Atsushi feels his face start to get hot. “He’s okay, I promise. I was planning on picking him up after school, that way he has plenty of time to rest at the hospital.”

Atsushi is having a hard time accepting this whole thing. Surely, Gin isn’t exaggerating. She’s obviously used to this, hence not being concerned, but Atsushi didn’t have any idea that Akutagawa made regular trips to the hospital.

“Please don’t worry about him. My brother can handle himself, I promise,” she says kindly. The warmth in her words puts his heart at ease, and he gives up.

Soon enough, he's back at the restaurant, and Akutagawa is on his mind the rest of the day.

…

Three days later, Akutagawa walks in the door for their morning shift, and Atsushi has never been so relieved to see him. It's a strange feeling. He's just glad he's okay, he thinks that's a normal thought to have for someone who was so ill last he saw him.

Akuatagwa has a crossbody satchel on, which Atsushi doesn't think much of at first, until he sees oxygen tubing traveling up to loop at his nose.

He's a little startled to see that, but he remembers Gin mentioning that he’s supposed to be on oxygen therapy, but won’t wear it to work. He wonders what changed his mind. He wonders why he never wore it to begin with.

He looks okay. Not good by a long shot. There are some hints that he hasn't slept well. His hair is a little out of place, the circles under his eyes are a bit darker than normal. His shoulders look tense, but Atsushi can’t place why,

He’s sitting at the booth closest to the kitchen entrance, and he has his apron laid out on the table and all of its contents laid out, looking busy organizing.

"Hey," Atsushi says meekly. He's almost sure Akutagawa will hiss at him, but he just looks up - defeated, really - before he looks back down. Atsushi's heart sinks. He really does feel guilty. He's sure Akutagawa didn't want anyone to see him like that, let alone Atsushi. "I didn't, uh…I didn't mean to like, invade your space or anything. But I didn't want to leave you alone."

"It's fine," Akutagawa says quietly. He's laying out his pens, placing them in order by brand. "I'm going back into working at the cafe."

"You are?" Atsushi says. Why does he feel a pang of disappointment? He shouldn't care. It's just Akutagawa. "Why?"

"I have to keep my oxygen on me," he mumbles, laying a hand over the bag. "It's too inconvenient to do as a server."

"I mean, I'm sure we could figure something out. Have you asked Kunikida? Maybe he -"

Akutagawa shakes his head.

"It's fine, Nakajima," Akutagawa says once again. He's sure he's spoken to Kunikida already. Atsushi realizes he's just cleaning out his apron because he won't need it anymore. He'll be using the cafe apron now.

Atsushi sees why it'd be inconvenient to wear it as a server. They work in tight spaces and there's so much running around, and lots of opportunity for the tubing to get caught or tangled. He sighs to himself. He wishes there was an easier way.

He thinks back to Gin’s mention of his chest pains, and wonders if he was dealing with that the whole time, just the other day, and it all comes together in his head. Dazai used to work at the cafe with him. Maybe he’s realized a change in Akutagawa since working at the restaurant, related to his health. He might be the one who convinced him to go back.

"Thank you," Akutagawa says suddenly.

"For what?" Atsushi blinks.

He sighs. "The other day."

"Oh…I mean, it's fine. It wasn't any trouble," Atsushi says. He really didn't mind it. He feels more guilty about it than anything.

"It was. Don't lie," Akutagawa mumbles. "You took over my tables during a rush when you had a full section, and drove me home in my own car without any way to get home yourself."

"But you did it for me, too."

"I took one table from you and drove you home in my own car," Akutagawa says, and Atsushi doesn't see the drastic difference until now. "I owe you."

"You don't have to owe me anything," Atsushi says with a sigh, sitting across from him at the booth. "It doesn't matter to me if the scales weren't even. It all got done and you're okay now, and that's all that matters, so."

He feels his cheeks heat up a little when he says that, and he's not entirely sure why.

"If you insist," Akutagawa mumbles, almost looking embarrassed to hear that.

Soon enough, Atsushi is whisked away by Kunikida to start his morning tasks, and that's the last time Atsushi sees Akutagawa working in the restaurant.

…

A week and a half later, Atsushi finally gets the courage to go into the cafe on his lunch break. Akutagawa left behind one of his notebooks in the locker he used, and Atsushi might be using it as an excuse to see him. Sure, the cafe is right next door, but he feels awkward going there without reason.

“Where’s my kitty going? I really should get you microchipped!” Dazai says, pulling at Atsushi’s apron string as he approaches the cafe door.

“Gross, don’t say that!” Atsushi whines, pulling his apron string back to retie it with one hand before Dazai takes it again and does it for him. “I was just…just giving something back to someone.”

“To Akutagawa?” Dazai asked.

“Y…yeah, his notebook,” Atsushi mumbles. Akutagawa’s words from the car the other week has been on his mind. “Dazai, were you…did you convince him to go back to working at the cafe?”

“Why? Do you miss him?” Dazai asks, tilting his head with a sinister smile as he finishes retying Atsushi’s apron.

“Don’t change the subject!” Atsushi groans.

“Advised would be a better choice of words, I think,” Dazai says. “He’s been working at the cafe much longer than you’ve been here in the restaurant, Atsushi. I’ve known him a long time. His health has declined quite a bit since starting here.”

Atsushi frowns. He’s sure without all of the context he recently learned, that would make no sense, but it makes perfect sense right now. “Because he’s not bringing the oxygen with him?”

“Exactly.” Dazai nods. “The cafe is a way lower-stress job, and he can wear the oxygen without any issue. It’ll be better for him.”

“Why’d he come over here, anyway?” Atsushi asks. He’s not sure if he’s crossing a line there or not.

“The pay as a server is better, for sure. He’s been trying to pay off some hospital bills and help his sister through school,” Dazai says, his voice much softer this time, only wanting Atsushi to hear the answer to his question. Atsushi’s heart hurts. Gin says that he’s often hospitalized, but paying off hospital bills puts it into another perspective.

“I didn’t know he was sick, Dazai,” Atsushi mumbles, leaning against the bar counter with a soft sigh.

“He didn’t want you to know. That’s not your fault,” Dazai assures him. He’s not usually the type to give advice or comfort, but when he does, Atsushi ends up feeling a lot better about things - this time, though, he’s just left more confused. Why would Akutagawa want to keep that from him? Atsushi would pick on him for being sick all the time. Wouldn’t he want to defend himself?

“I guess so,” he murmurs, still feeling rather dejected. It’s guilt, that’s what he feels.

“Thanks for looking out for him.” Dazai says with a strangely genuine looking smile. Atsushi wants to ask him what exactly he means by that, but ever conveniently, Kunikida is shouting his name from the kitchen, and he prances away.

Atsushi faces the cafe door, and gingerly enters.

Their door opens right to the front counter of the cafe. The larger lights have been turned off, and the open sign is facing the inside. The cafe always closes on the restaurant’s dead hour, around three or four in the afternoon, so he already knew they would be closed. Hopefully Akutagawa is still here.

He turns to face the counter, and sees someone wiping down the outside of the display case that he isn’t expecting.

"Oh, hey, Gin!" Atsushi says cheerfully upon seeing her, and she waves at him, standing up. She’s wearing a mask, and her hair is up, but her eyes are very recognizable. He didn't have any idea that she was working here. "You work here, too?"

"Just part-time. I go to school," she says with a nod.. “How are you? Do you need something?”

Atsushi peers to the back for a moment and doesn’t see who he’s looking for. There’s a blond woman and I guy with a bandaid on his nose that he doesn’t recognize, but no Akutagawa. “Oh, I’m - I’m good! Just, uh…”

“Looking for Ryuunosuke?” she asks with a tilt of her head. “He’s here. I can get him, if you want.”

“Oh, no, that’s - that’s okay,” Atsushi says, awkwardly setting the notebook down on the counter. He’s not sure why he’s so nervous. He did want to give it to Akutagawa himself, so he could see him, but he supposes he’ll just leave it with Gin.

“Nakajima.”

He hears his voice coming from the back of the cafe, and he walks up to the counter, his arms crossed over his chest. Gin watches him approach before she disappears into the back.

"Hey, Akutagawa," Atsushi says a little awkwardly. He's surprised that Akutagawa doesn't make a displeased face upon seeing him. He gestures to the notebook he’s left on the counter. "I think this one's yours. I found it where we hang all our bags."

"Oh…thank you," he says. He only looks it over, he doesn’t reach for it. "I didn't get to put that one to very good use."

"You off already?" Atsushi asks.

Akutagawa nods. "We're closing."

There's a blonde woman behind him that Atsushi doesn't quite recognize. He's not familiar with the cafe staff at all, really. She looks suspicious of Atsushi’s presence. He sees a hint of the other guy and Gin in the back for a moment, but they quickly vanish to where Atsushi can’t see them.

"Are you Nakajima?" she asks. Akutagawa sighs.

Atsushi blinks. He’s not quite sure what her intentions are. "Uh, yeah?"

She eyes narrow, and she crosses her arms. "Hm. You need a haircut."

"Higuchi."

"Sorry, sir!" she says. She scurries to the back where the rest of them have disappeared to without a second to waste. Atsushi pats at his hair. He knows it’s not the best haircut, but he does it himself to save money.

“I’m sorry about her,” Akuatagawa mumbles. "Your hair looks fine."

"Sir? You the manager or something?" Atsushi asks, that comment just now catching up as he lowers his hands back to the counter.

"Yes," he sighs.

"Whoa, seriously? I was joking," he says with a breathy laugh. That’s cool.

"Do you think I'm not capable?" Akutagawa questions, his eyes narrowing suspiciously, not looking very happy with what he’s said.

"Hey, whoa, I didn't say that!" Atsushi defends. “I just didn’t think you’d say yes.”

“I was an assistant manager before. They offered me a higher position to come back,” he says, his voice lowering a bit.

Atsushi nods to show understanding - maybe that had something to do with Dazai. He wonders if Dazai was the manager before he left to work at the restaurant, and now Akutagawa’s taken over the position.

"Can I make you something?" Akutagawa asks, turning to the inside of the counter.

"Huh? Me?" Atsushi asks.

"Is there anyone behind you?" he teases when he turns his head.

"Uhh…no," he murmurs awkwardly. "I don't really drink coffee after the morning, actually. But thank you. I think."

"Tea?" he asks.

"Oh…yeah, sure. Tea's good."

Akutagawa nods. "I prefer it as well."

Atsushi feels awkward, standing at the counter as Akutagawa makes tea for him, completely unprompted. It’s very nice of him. Too nice, almost. Maybe he still secretly feels like he owes Atsushi something, he isn’t sure, but either way, Atsushi will take it. He looks over the notebook. It’s nicer than all of the ones Atsushi uses.

“Is it cool if I ask you something?” Atsushi says, his fingers tracing the edge of the notebook.

“If you must,” Akutagawa says plainly as he stirs what he’s poured.

“How come you didn’t tell me you were sick?” Atsushi says. “I feel bad. I was always messing with you about your immune system, but that wasn’t it at all. I would’ve stopped if I knew.”

Akutagawa is quiet for a moment, stirring a bit longer than he needs to, probably.

“I didn’t mind it. Everyone but you knew,” Akutagawa says with a gentle sigh. “You didn’t treat me like I was fragile.”

Atsushi’s heart sinks. That seems to be something weighing heavily on his mind all the time, Atsushi can tell by the way he says it - and it makes sense. Even now, as he knows, Atsushi finds himself worrying a lot more than he ever would.

“I can…I can keep doing that. If you want,” Atsushi says. Sure, he doesn’t think he really could. He can’t go back to not knowing. He doesn’t even know what exactly is wrong with Akutagawa.

“That would be nice,” Akutagawa says, but the half smile on his face that fades just as quickly as it came, and the tone of his voice - he knows that can’t just happen. He turns his face away, and Atsushi’s focus goes back to the notebook. He opens the cover, just to see if Akutagawa ever even used it, and he finds a loose note of mismatched paper on the inside.

I can get you his number if you want ;) here's mine, txt me & lmk if you ever want it ! XO

It's Yosano's handwriting.

What on earth? Who could she be talking about? Did Akutagawa have a crush on somebody working at the restaurant? Was Yosano trying to help set him up?

Before he can even think about asking, the cover of the notebook is shut on Atsushi’s hand, earning him a tiny ow, and Akutagawa’s hand presses it inside. Atsushi looks up, expecting him to look angry, but he looks scared, for some reason, like a deer caught in the headlights. Atsushi sees his cheeks start to turn a deep shade of pink. Atsushi is almost concerned he might pass out.

“Well, you’ve gotta tell me now,” Atsushi says as soon as Akutagawa takes his notebook back and slides it into his own apron, his stare now looking confused. “Whose number?”

Akutagawa blinks, and turns away. He pours the tea he’s made for Atsushi into one of the cups they use to serve in-house customers, but he keeps it where it is on the adjacent counter.

"Is it Dazai?" Atsushi asks.

Akutagawa huffs. "My god, no."

"Junichiro?" Atsushi asks. Less likely, but Junichiro seems to like Akutagawa.

Akutagawa glares at him, that same strange look of confusion seeping into his expression. Atsushi guesses no, but as he ponders that strange look on his face, he starts to realize who it might be, and his cheeks start to feel hot, too.

"No, it's you, you absolute moron,” Akutagawa mumbles, setting the cup of tea down in front of Atsushi so hard that some of it spills into the counter, before he backs up to lean against the adjacent one, arms crossed over his chest and head turned away. That pink has only gotten more red.

"Me?" Atsushi confirms.

"Yes."

"You want my number?" Atsushi asks, pointing at himself, just in case Akutagawa somehow got it mixed up.

"Please don't make me say it again," Akutagawa mumbles, pressing his hands up to his temples.

“Okay, but, it’s not ‘cause you have a crush on me, right? It’s ‘cause - um…maybe, because, you…” Atsushi murmurs, trying to think of another explanation, but Akutagawa drops his hands and glares at him again, silently telling him that he was right the first time.

It all makes sense, really. His abrasive additude, his willingness to help when something was really wrong. His acceptance of help when he himself really needed it. Atsushi would have never seen it himself, but in hindsight, he gets it.

Atsushi takes out his notebook and starts scribbling something on one of the pages before he tears it out. It’s not pretty, but it’s legible.

“Maybe you should…”

Akutagawa stops whatever he’s saying once Atsushi sets the sheet down on the counter - a piece of paper with his phone number on it. Atsushi is kind of acting on impulse. He has no idea if he really likes Akutagawa back, but apparently, his body sure knows the answer.

Akuatagwa stares at it, wide-eyed, like he can’t believe what he’s seeing.

“Your handwriting is terrible.”

“Take it or leave it!” Atsushi whines, even more embarrassed than before, but Akutagawa takes it in his hand before Atsushi even finishes his weak threat.

Atsushi hears his name from the cafe. He can’t tell whose voice it is through the glass, but he’s not actually on his break right now, he’s supposed to be cleaning. What awful timing.

Atsushi grabs the door handle, for some reason, unable to drop his eye contact with Akutagawa, who’s still holding that piece of paper.

“I better - I better get a text from an unknown number later,” Atsushi says with a huff. Akuatagwa averts his gaze, and Atsushi can only hope that that’s a yes.

Atsushi turns his head when he hears his name again, and presses against the door for a second.

“Nakajima,” Akutagawa says, and Atsushi turns around almost right away. He looks him dead in the eye, wondering what he’ll say next, but his eyes drop down to the counter. “Your tea.”

“Oh - right, right, I’m sorry. Uhm…thanks, for this,” Atsushi stammers on as awkwardly as he possibly could, taking it into both hands out of fear of dropping it. He has his back leaned against the door and opens it that way, hoping Akutagawa will say something else, just to save from how awkward he ended that.

Akutagawa smiles, like he’s amused. Of course he is. Bastard.

“Hurry up and go now, you fool.”

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