I want to be an idle teen.

24. I want to make a big mistake

-RAN-
Listen imma be honest, writing Atsushi's thoughts and emotions is my favourite thing to do

Call him touch starved, but Atsushi felt both uncomfortable and extremely comforted by the way that the redhead clung to him once they got inside. He knew that he was getting a bit too… used to the touches, too used to the closeness, but he couldn't help himself.

It felt overwhelming, in a way, he thought as he helped the redhead sit on his bed and passed him his bottle of water that he kept by the nightstand.

Overwhelming to have people touch you without fearing the touch itself. Back at the orphanage, he remembered, with a slight shiver, the only touch he would feel was the one from the head of the orphanage. The harsh beatings and the creepy, uncomfortable touches against his shoulders from time to time too.

And from the other kids, he thought as he absentmindedly began teasing a lock of his uneven hair, were just as bad, if not worse.

They were taught that way. He shouldn't blame them. Well, he did , either way. He had every right to be at the very least a bit bitter.

They were taught to isolate him and make fun of him. They saw the adults do it, they saw the way the head and his little minions would beat the poor boy, kick him while he was numbly laying on the ground, and they learned.

Learned to use him as a punching bag too.

On the streets, it really didn't get better either.

The people were mean. Other homeless people stole from one another, hell, robbed and beat every person weaker than them just to survive. And the so-called normal folks were very, very cold and almost no longer human as they saw someone beneath their class.

The managers would throw rocks at the tiger whenever he laid on the bench just because it made their store look bad, the people living in the building he used to sit in front of to shield himself from the pouring rain would then, instead of letting him catch a break, pour boiling water on him through the window to their warm apartment.

Little to say, he had not the best of experiences with strangers.

Yet, with these two, even though he did feel quite a bit of physical pain, he got…comfort.

And that comfort, it outweighed the negative side of things. He got to feel worthy of being alive. Got to save people, got to try his best, got to meet people who didn't consider him a simple roach in their way that they could step on.

He got the chance to finally come to terms with himself, too. And to…realize that a beast laid underneath his skin. That he was the beast chasing him all these years.

He felt like it was odd to allow himself to feel safe around strangers. The tiger doesn't think he can ever, ever fully trust them, no matter how hard he tries. But he did start feeling…warm around them.

All the new people he met…began making him want and fuzzy on the inside. Made him smile and laugh.

Especially Dazai and Chuuya. The two of his employers were genuinely night and day, yet they gave him the same sickly exciting feeling.

Whenever he sat with Dazai, he felt like he was walking down a dark, empty library, reading ancient scripts and trying to decipher them. The feeling was thrilling and scary, him finally getting to understand even a thing that went through the man's head made him feel on top of the world and the touches from the man felt like electric shock.

Whenever he was with Chuuya, though, he felt like he was walking down a forest. A forest with the most beautiful of flowers, some poised, some tastier than any nectar or fruit. A forest that made him safe, one filled with thorns and vines, one filled with odd little ruins that he had to discover as he walked. The feeling was both comforting and yet terrifying all at once.

Chuuya's touch felt like grabbing a rose by the stem. The thorns dug in, harsh and unforgiving, yet they dug deep under his skin and made him almost dizzy.

It was different from the fire he felt spread through him, burning him to ash and dust, whenever he got touched by Dazai.

It was more like falling down at a fast speed, into a bottomless pit. The air around him seemed to feel a lot less breathable, the rush of adrenaline almost addictive and the longevity of it all making him unable to think, wiping every and each thought out of his head at the speed of light.

Those two felt different from the rest. He didn't exactly feel that way with anyone else. With Kyouka, he felt like her touch was like getting splashed by water. Both comforting and calming, talking with her felt like talking to the mirror, one that showed him as a child.

Talking to Akutagawa felt like talking to a wall, and touching the man felt like grabbing a broken vase.

Talking to Tachihara was like talking to the moon, in a way. Letting all your thoughts blend into the night sky. His touch was like the gentle breeze.

And with Gin, in a similar fashion, felt like talking with the stars. Whispering your secrets to the night, locking them away. Her touch felt like the morning sun.

Yet nothing, and he repeats nothing , could even begin to describe how Dazai's soft little pats when the man thought that he was sleeping felt.

Nor how the protective grip on Atsushi that the redhead always had made him feel.

There was something different there, in a way.

He wasn't quite sure what, but his instincts told him enough.

Atsushi knew, in a way, that the two were extreme fuck ups.

Both were haunted by the undoubtedly traumatic events of their past, and something in the way that they seemed to both love and hate one another told him that each other's mere presence brought up the memories of the unfortunate past they shared.

Both were coping with it in extremely unhelpful ways, too.

Chuuya with wine and cigarettes, with glares and bluntness, with sarcasm and harshness.

And Dazai, well, Dazai with the whiskey that his office reeked of at all times. Dazai used his act and his dramatic analogy to make people consider him a whack job, he used his theatrics to confuse the rest, he showed his care in the punishments he gave out as little presents wrapped in a box, he used his eyes as the only remainder of his humanity, with them, even without a glint or a shine, being the most emotional part of him.

They were in no way good people, they were in no way heroes that saved Atsushi selflessly, but they gave him a better life.

The man that drunkenly laughed at his own joke tenderly helped Atsushi eat after a punishment and fought with his boss over it.

His boss ordered a private drive back home for him after the punishment and softly embraced him, drunk out of his already spiraling mind, the night after.

He knew that Dazai probably did it for his own good. That's why he couldn't be mad at the man.

He also knew that he was there to be Kyouka's replacement. And that he was saved only to be brought up into a jumbled mess of a situation.

He knew that this job was certain to make him lose blood sweat and tears during.

But he also knew that no matter how ridiculous it seemed, he was fine with that. He was fine with this job and with these people.

They felt like a family he wished he had.

They felt like a family that wanted to have him be a part of it.

And could a broken little boy ask for anything more than a group of equally as fucked up people as him?