Fractured Reflections

Chapter III

Atsushi's POV

I watch him disappear into the darkness, my heart pounding in a way that feels foreign and unsettling.

Why does he have to be so difficult? Why does he insist on keeping everyone at arm's length, even when it's clear there's more to him than he lets on?

I sigh, running a hand through my hair.

"Get it together, Atsushi," I mutter to myself, starting toward the dorms. But no matter how hard I try, I can't get Akutagawa out of my head.

His words, his actions, the rare glimpses of vulnerability he lets slip—they're like pieces of a puzzle I'm desperate to solve.

And maybe that's the problem.

Because the more I try to figure him out, the more I feel myself getting pulled into something I don't fully understand.

Akutagawa's POV

By the time I return to the Port Mafia's base, the familiar chill of the air does little to calm my racing thoughts.

Dazai once told me that emotions were a weakness, a distraction that only served to cloud judgment. And yet, no matter how much I try to bury them, they keep surfacing—especially when it comes to him.

Atsushi.

I hate him. I hate his optimism, his naivety, the way he makes me feel... exposed.

But more than that, I hate the way he looks at me. Like I'm not a monster. Like I'm someone worth saving.

It's foolish. Dangerous. And yet, I can't stop thinking about it.

I clench my fists, the familiar weight of Rashomon stirring at my side. I can't let this continue. I can't let him get any closer.

Because if I do, I'm afraid of what might happen.

Atsushi's POV

The next day, Dazai calls us into his office with that infuriating grin plastered across his face.

"I have a new mission for you two," he says, his tone far too cheerful. "Something a bit more... personal."

I exchange a wary glance with Akutagawa, who looks just as unimpressed as I feel.

"What kind of mission?" I ask cautiously.

Dazai leans back in his chair, his grin widening. "A surveillance job. Just the two of you. I want you to stake out a suspected Guild hideout and report back with any information you find."

Akutagawa scowls. "You mean babysitting."

"Think of it as a bonding exercise," Dazai replies, his eyes glinting with mischief.

I groan inwardly. Spending hours alone with Akutagawa in a cramped space? What could possibly go wrong?

Akutagawa's POV

The surveillance mission is exactly as tedious as I expected.

We're stationed in a small, dilapidated building overlooking the Guild's suspected hideout. Hours pass in silence, the tension between us thick enough to cut.

"You're awfully quiet," Atsushi says eventually, his voice breaking the stillness.

I don't look at him. "Silence is preferable to your incessant chatter."

He doesn't respond right away, and for a moment, I think he might have finally taken the hint.

But then he speaks again, his voice softer this time. "Do you ever get tired of it?"

"Tired of what?"

"Being like this," he says, his gaze fixed on the hideout below. "Always fighting, always pushing people away."

His words hit harder than I'd like to admit. I clench my fists, refusing to meet his eyes. "You don't know anything about me, weretiger."

"Maybe not," he says, a hint of sadness in his voice. "But I'd like to."

The words echo in my mind, haunting and unrelenting.

I hate him.

But I can't deny the truth that's starting to creep in, no matter how much I wish I could.

Because the more time I spend with him, the less I'm certain that hatred is all I feel.