Atsushi's POV
The silence between us is suffocating.
We make our way through the darkened corridors, the distant sound of dripping water echoing around us. Every step feels heavier than the last, the weight of Akutagawa's judgment pressing down on me like a physical force.
I don't know why it bothers me so much. I shouldn't care what he thinks. But there's something about the way he looks at me—like I'm both beneath him and somehow more than he can handle—that makes my skin crawl.
And yet, despite everything, I can't help but feel... drawn to him.
It's ridiculous. He's Akutagawa. The same person who's tried to kill me more times than I can count. The same person who sees me as nothing more than an obstacle.
So why does my heart race whenever he gets too close?
Akutagawa's POV
The mission goes off without a hitch. It's almost disappointing.
The weretiger is surprisingly competent when he's not tripping over himself, and for a brief moment, I allow myself to acknowledge his skill. Not out loud, of course. He doesn't deserve that satisfaction.
As we step outside into the cool night air, I steal a glance at him. His white hair catches the moonlight, giving him an almost ethereal glow. It's infuriating.
"What are you staring at?" he asks, his tone defensive.
I scoff, turning away. "Nothing of importance."
He mutters something under his breath, but I don't bother to ask what. Instead, I focus on the path ahead, willing myself to ignore the strange warmth that lingers in my chest.
It's nothing, I tell myself. Just the adrenaline from the mission.
But as we part ways, his hesitant smile etched in my memory, I can't shake the feeling that this—whatever this is—might be more dangerous than anything we've faced so far.
Atsushi's POV
I don't understand him.
We've barely spoken since the mission ended last night. Dazai didn't even give us time to catch our breath before assigning us another one—something about a potential weapons deal involving both the Guild and some new organization no one's heard of.
And of course, Akutagawa and I are the "perfect pair" for the job.
"You're brooding," Akutagawa says flatly, snapping me out of my thoughts.
I glance at him, his dark cloak trailing behind him as we walk through the empty streets of Yokohama. "I'm thinking," I correct.
"Thinking doesn't suit you."
I clench my fists, biting back a sharp retort. He's always like this—cold, dismissive, impossible. And yet, there's something about the way his words hit that feels... calculated, like he knows exactly how to get under my skin.
"Why are you like this?" I blurt out, the question escaping before I can stop it.
Akutagawa stops abruptly, turning to face me. "Excuse me?"
"You don't have to insult me every chance you get," I say, my voice firmer now. "We're supposed to be working together, remember?"
He scoffs, his expression unreadable. "I'm not here to be your friend, weretiger. I'm here to complete the mission."
I sigh, running a hand through my hair. "Fine. Whatever. Let's just get this over with."
But as we continue walking, I can't shake the feeling that there's more to him than the cold, ruthless exterior he shows the world.
Akutagawa's POV
The boy is insufferable.
He's too loud, too naive, too... bright. And yet, no matter how much I try to focus on the task at hand, my thoughts keep drifting back to him.
His question from earlier lingers in my mind, an unwanted echo.
Why are you like this?
It's a foolish question. I am the way I am because I have to be. Because weakness is a luxury I cannot afford.
But as I steal a glance at Atsushi—his expression tight with frustration, his shoulders tense—I can't help but wonder if there's more to his words than I first thought.
I shake the thought away, forcing my focus back to the mission. We're nearing the warehouse where the deal is supposed to take place, and I can't afford to be distracted.
"Stay close," I say curtly, not bothering to look at him.
"I know how to handle myself," he replies, his voice laced with irritation.
I don't respond. There's no point in arguing with him. Instead, I push the warehouse door open, my senses on high alert.
Atsushi's POV
The warehouse is dark and eerily quiet, the only sound the faint creak of the metal door as it closes behind us.
Akutagawa moves ahead without hesitation, his sharp gaze scanning the room. I follow closely, my muscles tense.
"You're sure this is the right place?" I whisper.
He nods once, his voice low. "Be ready for anything."
I roll my eyes. "Thanks for the advice."
But before either of us can say anything else, the silence is broken by a low, chilling laugh.
"Well, well. Look what we have here," a voice echoes through the room, followed by the sound of footsteps.
I tense, my eyes darting toward the source of the voice. A man steps out of the shadows, flanked by several others. Their expressions are smug, confident.
Akutagawa's posture shifts immediately, Rashomon unfurling like a living shadow. "Stand back," he orders.
I grit my teeth. "I'm not letting you handle this alone."
The man laughs again, his gaze flicking between us. "Cute. The Port Mafia and the Armed Detective Agency working together? I never thought I'd see the day."
"Shut up," Akutagawa snaps, his voice sharp as a blade.
The man smirks, gesturing to his followers. "Take them."
YOU ARE READING
Fractured Reflections
RomantizmIn the chaos of Yokohama's dark underbelly, Atsushi and Akutagawa find themselves reluctantly teaming up for a mission that tests the boundaries of their hatred-and their undeniable connection.