Archive of Our Own ^beta

Hunger was a constant companion in Atsushi’s life.

It was like pain. It cloaked around him, held him in the darkest of nights, it was always there for him. Always reminding him that he never ate enough, not even when he snuck into the kitchen and made some ochazuke, not even when he actually ate some food that the orphanage cook had made.

Hunger was always dogging Atsushi’s steps, like it was a wolf on the prowl and Atsushi was the prey that it wanted to sink its teeth into. And sink its teeth in it did. It did it often, it dug its teeth into Atsushi’s belly, into his throat, into his bowels. It dug the trembles of exhaustion into his limbs, it clouded his mind with the inability to think.

Often, all too often, Atsushi became numb to these hunger pains. To the exhaustion that made his limbs tremble and made his work worse. Atsushi became numb to the way that his mind grew used to his fogginess.

The headmaster would force solid food down Atsushi’s throat all too often, ensuring that he would survive for some reason. All too often, Atsushi would throw it back up, because his stomach constricted and refused to allow something so hard and hurtful into his body. And then Atsushi would be racked with shivers, the inability to eat presenting itself like this only making things worse. Atsushi then would have to clean up his own vomit, and he could not begrudge the headmaster that. It was his own fault for not keeping the food down.

When he was thrown out of the orphanage, he only survived the trek to Yokohama because he had been fed the night before. He was thankful for that, their last gift to him. However, throwing him out because of a tiger that was actually him, and they knew about it–

It gave him some mixed feelings. A lot of mixed feelings, but he didn’t have time to dwell on them, because he was honestly waiting by the toilet in the place that the people had given him for an hour.

He had never had to wait more than an hour to throw up his food before. So he waited.

And waited.

And waited.

But he never threw up.

It confused Atsushi. He had eaten so much ochazuke, he had eaten way more than he should have. He shouldn’t have eaten that much, but it was probably the only food he was going to get in a long while. It would have depended on how long it would take him to get a job and get some money saved.

Atsushi went to sleep, curling up on an actual futon. The fabric was nice, it felt amazing. Atsushi felt himself drifting off, pulling the futon to his nose and tipping over the edge into a deep, deep sleep.

The first night in the Armed Detective Agency’s quarters.

But it certainly wouldn’t be the last, he came to find out.

~~~~~~~~~~

It’s on the walk to the Armed Detective Agency a few weeks later, when things are starting to die down, when Kyouka-chan has finally settled and the Port Mafia hasn’t tried anything for a few days. It’s when Dazai-san is walking with them both, humming a nonsensical song, and Atsushi is relaxing, preparing his mind for the possibly hectic day that could be coming.

Kyouka-chan says it. Of course she does, she was the one to make breakfast this morning, as per their agreement. It had taken a bit of time for them to finagle a schedule, a bit of time for Atsushi to work on Kyouka-chan and explain that he liked to make breakfast for her too. They now argued over who did the dishes.

“Atsushi-kun, you didn’t finish your breakfast.”

Dazai-san stopped humming.

Atsushi tossed her a smile, barely keeping himself from laughing. “I wasn’t hungry, sorry Kyouka-chan. What I did eat was very delicious.”

It was true, partially. The other truth was that Atsushi simply couldn’t eat all of the food that Kyouka-chan had dished for him. It was tasty though.

Kyouka-chan hummed softly, walking closer to him. To the point of bumping into his arm, and Atsushi pushed the elbow out a little in response. As he expected, a smaller hand gripped onto his elbow, and a head pressed against his shoulder.

The contact made his stomach do funny things, the gentle rush of affection that always seemed to come with someone touching him without harming him. He was never sure if he liked this feeling or not, if he wanted more of this feeling or if he wanted to push it away. If he wanted to push the people who gave him this feeling away.

Atsushi could feel Dazai-san’s dark eyes still watching him.

He wondered what the older man was thinking, but he wasn’t smart enough to figure it out, so he decided to let it go. If it concerned Atsushi, then he would find out in the next hour or so. Or maybe the next week. Or next month.

It depended with that man.

They got to the Armed Detective Agency, and took their seats where they were assigned, and Atsushi logged into his computer and started to type away. He needed to write about what happened on the Moby Dick.

Dazai-san drifted along. Not heading to his seat right away, but instead drifted over to the little coffee nook that the Agency had, where Kunikida-san was. Dazai-san put a hand on Kunikida-san’s shoulder, and the blond man turned his head, a sour look on his face, but when Dazai-san said something, the blond man glanced at Atsushi.

Atsushi tilted his head, blinking at the man.

Kunikida-san glanced away, back to his coffee. He said something to Dazai-san though, Atsushi could hear the deep gravel of his voice, but not able to hear his words.

He had the sinking feeling that it was about him though.

A soft hunger pain nipped at his stomach, but he silenced it with focusing on his typing his report.

It couldn’t be about him, could it?

~~~~~~~~~~

“Atsushi.”

Atsushi hummed inquisitively, looking up from his report. He was nearly done with it, if he could just get this last bit done with Akutagawa dragging him away from Kyouka-chan’s plane that was incoming.

Kunikida-san looked at him, brow furrowed and mouth set.

Atsushi’s heart sped up, fear starting to sink its claws into his stomach and throat.

What did he do wrong?

“It’s past noon.”

Atsushi tilted his head, the fear dissipating so quickly his head started to spin a little. “So?”

He didn’t understand. What did the time have to do with anything? Was Atsushi supposed to do anything about the time? Should he get a new clock?

Kunikida-san’s jaw slid very carefully, very slowly, from one side to the other. “You haven’t eaten anything. You didn’t eat much at breakfast either, I’ve heard.”

Atsushi frowned. “I’m not hungry.”

It was true. He wasn’t hungry. Atsushi had eaten so much at breakfast, even if Kyouka-chan and Kunikida-san thought he hadn’t eaten much. It had been more than enough for Atsushi, who had had so little in the orphanage.

Kunikida-san’s frown grew, and his fingers tapped at the laptop that was in front of him. “Atsushi, you need to eat lunch.”

Atsushi tilted his head the other way. He wasn’t understanding Kunikida-san’s insistence on this. “Kunikida-san, I don’t know what Kyouka-chan told you, but I actually ate a lot this morning. I promise that I’m fine. It’s a lot more than I ever got at the orphanage.”

Kunikida-san’s fingers stopped tapping at the laptop.

His shoulders suddenly got very stiff, and Atsushi’s own shoulders were starting to hike up, his limbs freezing up.

“Kunikida-kun.” Ranpo-san’s voice cut through everything, and Atsushi became acutely aware of the Great Detective standing at the edge of Atsushi’s desk.

Kunikida-san inhaled. Deeply.

“Atsushi-kun. Let’s go.” Ranpo-san turned to Atsushi, who scrambled to get his laptop closed and follow the Great Detective out of the office before he got lost going down the stairs.

The best detective the Agency had sounded incredibly serious, so it was possible that it was another serious threat against the Agency. Ranpo-san rarely acted like a detective or a serious adult, so this must be really important. Either to the man or to the Armed Detective Agency.

“Where are we going? Where’s the crime scene?” Atsushi asked, catching up easily to the Greatest Detective.

Ranpo-san hummed, his hand reaching out and latching onto Atsushi’s.

The weird flutters of affection were back. He didn’t know how to deal with it, so he just pushed it down, telling himself he would deal with it another day. Another day, he promised himself.

“I think it’s down this street. It’s called Bell, pretty sure.” Ranpo-san said.

“What is?” Atsushi frowned, before seeing it. “Ranpo-san, you want to go to a café?”

“Yup! I’m hungry Atsushi-kun! Very hungry. And this place has very good food.” Ranpo-san started to drag him forward now, not letting Atsushi go as they got closer to the Bell Café. “You should try it with me.”

“I’m not–”

“I’m being really benevolent right now Atsushi-kun. So I feel like buying you a soup or something. Soup sounds good doesn’t it? Or a sandwich.” Ranpo-san steamrolled over him, and Atsushi clicked his mouth shut.

Soup did actually sound good. For some reason. But he already ate today, so he shouldn’t eat again. That would be going against the rules.

However, before Atsushi could tell Ranpo-san that he wasn’t hungry, could tell the man that he wasn’t going to eat, the Greatest Detective was throwing open the door to the Bell Café, calling out hellos and still pulling Atsushi along. Inside the café.

Ranpo-san immediately dragged him into the line, and Atsushi felt anxiety rise as they got closer and closer to the person in behind the counter.

“Hi~!” Ranpo-san sang, squeezing Atsushi’s hand. “One Katsu sando and mocha with extra sugar for me.”

“Alright sir, and for you?”

Shit. Shit shit shit shit. The person behind the counter was looking at Atsushi and Atsushi wasn’t planning on buying anything. He opened his mouth to say so, his fingers trembling with the anxiety of talking to another person–

“He’ll have the Harusame soup and a sweet coffee.” Ranpo-san immediately broke in.

Atsushi snapped his head around to look at the older man. Who was already paying for their meals.

“Thank you for your patronage!” The person chirped as Ranpo-san dragged him away.

"Hey Atsushi-kun, want to trade butterfly facts?" Ranpo-san asked as they sat down, their orders being made.

Atsushi tilted his head in confusion. Butterfly? Facts?

"I'll go first. Did you know that before becoming a butterfly, a caterpillar has to eat a shit-ton of food? To prepare for the transformation?"

Atsushi didn’t know what to say in response to that. He just stared at the older man. Who just stared right back at him. Atsushi tilted his head, and Ranpo-san tilted his head too.

He didn’t know how long they stared at each other before Atsushi was able to gain the courage to speak again.

"That's. . . Pretty cool?" Atsushi offered as the soup was placed in front of him, along with a drink that he definitely didn't order. Ranpo-san 's sandwich and definitely sugary drink was placed in front of him.

"Isn't it?" Ranpo-san hummed, not touching his food. "Transformations take a lot of energy Atsushi-kun. A lot."

Atsushi frowned. "Are you talking about my ability?"

That was the only connection he could make with this. Atsushi could change form, could transform into a tiger, and caterpillars could transform into butterflies. But that was the only thing that Atsushi could see that was a clear connection to this conversation and dragging him into it.

"Good! I didn't have to spell it out too much!" Ranpo-san nodded. He still didn't reach for his food. “Yes, this is about your ability.”

Atsushi shifted, this conversation was seriously uncomfortable for him. It was about two of the things that he didn’t like. His ability, and his apparent inability to eat. That’s when he noticed that Ranpo-san hadn’t touched his food yet.

"Ranpo-san, why aren't you eating?"

"Why aren't you?" Ranpo-san settled into his seat. “I could just deduce it, but I’d rather you tell me.”

Atsushi opened his mouth. He closed it. "I. . . Don't need to."

It was true. Atsushi had eaten this morning, he wasn’t hu–

"You're hungry. Your stomach is growling. I hear it." Ranpo-san shot back.

Atsushi shook his head. "I'm fine. I'm not hungry. I don't need to eat."

"Then I won't eat either." Ranpo-san said, reaching out and pushing the plate holding the sandwich back towards the middle of the table.

A shot of panic lashed through Atsushi and curled tight in his stomach. "No! No, Ranpo-san, you paid for that. You should eat it."

Ranpo-san tilted his head, and Atsushi saw it as the challenge it was. "I'm not eating until you're eating, Atsushi-kun. So until you eat your soup, I'm not eating my sandwich."

Atsushi opened his mouth. He closed it. He opened his mouth again.

"Were you always this annoying? Or were you hiding it?"

Ranpo-san snickered. "You were just ignoring it. You had your blinders on. Now eat the soup Atsushi-kun. I have all day to sit here."

And Atsushi didn’t have all day. He had to go back to the office and finish his paperwork. And Ranpo-san knew that too, otherwise he wouldn’t have pointed that out.

Atsushi looked down at the soup in front of him. It looked nice. It looked absolutely appetizing, to be quite honest. His stomach rumbled in his middle, and even though it was probably against the rules, he picked up the spoon.

The dashi broth was still warm, and the harusame noodles that he had managed to catch on the spoon, despite being nearly invisible, were flavorful. It traveled through his throat, down to his stomach. It calmed the pangs that were trying to latch onto him, the soothing the trembling that was trying to take root in his limbs again.

Ranpo-san was now chomping on one section of the sandwich that he had bought, a happy hum coming from him. “Good, yeah?”

Atsushi nodded, dipping his spoon back in the soup for another bite.

Ranpo-san smiled. “Of course it is. I chose it after all.”

~~~~~~~~~~

The day was finally done. The report was finally written and turned in, and Kunikida-san had nodded at him, still peering at Atsushi with what looked like concern, but Atsushi brushed it off.

It couldn’t be concern, because there was nothing to be concerned about.

He shuffled his bag onto his shoulder and thought about what he was going to do about tonight.

Atsushi had already eaten two meals today.

That meant that he couldn't eat anything tonight.

Kyouka-chan was going to get upset and worried, and he hated worrying her, but there was nothing that could be done about it. He simply couldn't eat another meal. It was more than likely against the rules and–

"At-su-shi-kun!"

The cold waves of Dazai-san's ability coursed over him as the man wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

"Let's take a detour today!"

"Dazai-san?"

Atsushi's voice went up at the end, nearly to a very high pitch. He really didn't mind that though, because last time he listened to Dazai-san's crazy plan, he was infiltrating the Moby Dick and was fighting alongside Akutagawa instead of fighting against him.

Weirdest day of Atsushi's life so far.

"Let's go Atsushi-kun! There's someplace I want you to see." Dazai-san, for all that he looked like an unboiled noodle and easy to break, actually had hidden muscle. It was obviously seen as he herded Atsushi along.

“Dazai-san, where are we going?” Atsushi asked, nearly putting his heels in the concrete. He could probably throw the man, but he didn’t want to do that. He liked and trusted Dazai-san too much. Even if the man was a little manipulative and a little weird, Atsushi liked and trusted Dazai-san.

Maybe he shouldn’t. But he did.

“Atsushi-kun is only eighteen.” Dazai-san hummed. “Right? I think that’s what you said when we first met.”

“Yeah?” Atsushi deadpanned. “Don’t pretend that you don’t have it memorized.”

Dazai-san threw him a cheeky grin, the hand around his arm squeezing his shoulder briefly. “Cheeky, cheeky tiger.”

“You didn’t answer my question.” Atsushi shot back, leaning into the hold somewhat reluctantly. The flutters of affection were whirling around his stomach again, making him feel happy and safe. Even though he was cool from the contact because of No Longer Human, he was warm inside.

Dazai-san tilted his head and shrugged with his free shoulder. “Maybe I don’t wanna?”

Atsushi allowed his face to drop into a pout, and Dazai-san laughed, his hand coming up and ruffling Atsushi’s hair.

“I want to know though.” Atsushi said, just a hair away from whining.

“In due time, Atsushi-kun, in due time. In the meantime, why don’t you tell me where Ranpo-san took you for lunch?” Dazai-san asked, his hand dropping back to Atsushi’s shoulder. “You came back with a happy smile, and Ranpo-san was rather happy too. Did you have coffee at lunch? Tea?”

“Coffee. Although Ranpo-san had something so sweet that the waitress looked at him like she was afraid for him. Like she was afraid he was going to get diabetes.” Atsushi grinned, remembering the look of horror.

Dazai-san cackled at that, swaying back and forth a little. “Oh I bet. But if Ranpo-san hasn’t gotten diabetes yet, then I doubt he ever will.”

They walked for a bit, swapping stories about the day. Atsushi explaining the food that he had eaten at lunch and the conversation he had had with Ranpo-san at lunch about butterflies and caterpillars and his own ability. But he was quick to assure Dazai-san that he had eaten enough food for today.

Dazai-san simply hummed and talked about how Kyouka-chan had pouted the entire hour that he had been gone.

Atsushi felt a little bad about that, because he didn’t mean to leave her to eat lunch alone. But he had been dragged off by Ranpo-san, so he tried not to blame himself. Too much. He still blamed himself a lot, but it would be fine. He thinks. He hopes Kyouka-chan won’t be too unhappy with him later.

“Here we are!”

Atsushi blinked, looking up at the sign.

“Lupin” blinked back at him from the sign above him, the figure of the man with a cane and a monocle above the word.

“Dazai-san? What’s this?” Atsushi asked as the man started to pull him towards the door.

“Somewhere I spent a lot of time at in my past.” Dazai-san replied, cryptic as ever. “Don’t worry though, I’ll make sure they won’t serve you alcohol. I don’t want Kunikida-kun on my back tomorrow. Or Kyouka-chan. Those two together are very, very dangerous.”

The man shivered overdramatically as they descended the stairs, and Atsushi shook his head. “Your detour is a bar?”

“They serve good food.” Dazai-san huffed, dragging Atsushi to a stool, before hesitating and nudging him to the stool to his right. Atsushi sat down gingerly, and felt something whisp through his hair, almost feeling like fingers, but when he turned to look, he didn’t see anyone there.

“I’m glad you’re eating something Dazai-san.” Atsushi said as he turned back around, setting his bag on the floor. A calico cat slinked out of the shadows, rubbing against his ankles.

“Ah! Yozo-kun is still here?” Dazai-san asked, looking down at the cat with wide eyes. “How long do you plan on staying alive?”

The cat just purred, jumping into Atsushi’s lap and practically demanding to be pet as it rubbed against his hands.

“Any-ways! Atsushi-kun, I know they have very good onigiri here.” Dazai-san continued, resting his face on his fist and watching Atsushi and the calico cat interact. “The ramen is also pretty good, but it’s heavier. Although you may need the calories, so we could get that in a to-go box.”

Atsushi blinked. “Dazai-san, I’ve already eaten two meals today.”

Dazai-san blinked. Atsushi’s eyes caught the brown eyes getting sharper. “And? Humans need to eat at least three meals a day, Atsushi-kun.”

“But that’s against the rules.” Atsushi frowned, running his hands through the calico’s fur and scratching at the ears. It purred like a little motor, butting its little head into his hands.

“What rules, Atsushi-kun?”

Atsushi looked up from the cat.

Dazai-san was watching with sharp, sharp sharp eyes. Atsushi had to look away from them, because he could feel every minute emotion that flittered across his face being dissected like a scalpel.

“Uh-uhm. The rules.” Atsushi muttered, and the cat nipped at his fingertips. He scratched at the ears again, thinking that’s what it wanted, but it simply curled up in his lap.

“What. Rules, Atsushi-kun?”

Atsushi shifted, but the calico in his lap sunk its claws into his legs. “It’s just–”

He couldn’t finish his explanation. How could he explain the structure of his life to someone who didn’t grow up in it? How could he explain everything about his life when he could barely get a word out about that basement they put him? About the nail and his foot? About the fire poker and his ribs? Every time he tried to explain these things, everyone would shut him up or his own words would strangle him into silence.

“It’s just the rules.” Atsushi said lamely. “It’s the rules I’ve grown up with, so it’s the rules I’m going to stick with.”

Dazai-san hummed. His fingers drummed on the counter in front of him, and his eyes were narrowed.

“Atsushi-kun, to be quite frank, those rules are stupid. You need food, as Ranpo-san clearly, or perhaps not so clearly, told you earlier today. Especially because you have a transformation ability, you need calories. So, I’m going to order you some food, and you’re going to eat it, okay?”

Atsushi huffed, staring down at the cat in his lap. “It’s not like I get a say, do I?”

A ruffled hand and a wave of coolness waving over his body.

“No say whatsoever!” Dazai-san chirped, before waving down the bartender.

~~~~~~~~~~

Kunikida-san joined them on the walk to the Agency in the morning, eyeing Atsushi with interest, before turning to Kyouka-chan.

“He ate breakfast.” She reported, reported to him. He was being ganged up on all sides here!

He was fine, he knew he was. They were probably just protective because of the Moby Dick being driven into the port and him working with Akutagawa.

This would blow over and things would go back to normal.

He knew it would.

He honestly felt uncomfortable today, because of all the food he had yesterday. And the breakfast he ate today. Even though the breakfast was a smaller portion than what he ate yesterday, Kyouka-chan still looked upset that he didn’t eat it all.

Kunikida-san was scribbling in a notebook, not his Ideal, before closing it and passing it over to Atsushi.

Atsushi looked down at it, the smooth writing and careful, perfect sections of the days and hours were divided into.

“Kunikida-san?” Atsushi asked, closing the notebook and trying to hand it back to the man.

Kunikida-san avoided taking it back by not looking in Atsushi’s direction in the slightest. Only focused on moving ahead. “It’s yours. It’s a food log.”

Atsushi frowned. “I don’t need it.”

“You do. Usually Yosano-sensei would be the one taking care of this, but since she’s taking care of people at the hospital right now as they’re short-staffed, it falls on us. We’re coordinating with her, but still.” Kunikida-san shrugged. He seemed somewhat self-conscious by the set of his shoulders.

Atsushi rubbed at the spine of the notebook with a thumb, upset and queasiness plaguing his stomach as they continued walking to the Agency.

Kyouka-chan reached up and latched onto his sleeve, and some of the queasiness abated.

They got to the Armed Detective Agency and Atsushi placed the notebook down on his desk, staring at it like it was nuclear waste. He didn’t know why they were so insistent on trying to help him with something that didn’t need to be helped.

Atsushi had survived for this long on his rules, he would survive much further.

He left the log to the side, and started on the day’s work of typing, ignoring the notebook like it was a deadly disease as he got on with his day.

Unfortunately, it seemed that everyone was in on this, because Dazai-san, of all people, placed an onigiri in front of him and stared him down until he took a bite and drank some water.

Dazai-san tapped the notebook before flouncing off, which meant that this was one of his no-talking days. Or maybe one of his no-talking hours. Dazai-san sometimes got like that, where speaking was too much, so he went quiet. But Atsushi knew what his mentor was saying, and sighed as he logged the food that he ate.

The next few hours passed in relative peace while Atsushi worked on typing files and taking sips of water when Kyouka-chan poked him to remind him or Kunikida-san nudged the bottle towards him.

“UUUuuuggghh! This won’t do! This won’t do at aaaaaalllll!” Ranpo-san’s whining interrupted the groove that Atsushi was in, making him blink and making Kunikida practically shove the water bottle at Atsushi.

“Ranpo-san, what’s wrong?” He asks, turning to look at their Great Detective.

“I ordered some sweet shakes that I could carry with me!” Ranpo-san whined, falling over on his desk. “That way I can drink as many milkshakes on the run that I want to.”

Kunikida-san, Atsushi, and Kyouka-chan all exchanged glances.

“How is that a problem?” Kyouka-chan asked.

“They’re not sweet enough!” Ranpo-san flailed his arms, turning and marching over to Atsushi, shoving one in his hands. “Here! You try it, tell me what you think about the taste.”

Atsushi looked down at the smaller bottle, blinking at it. He looked at it, trying to discern anything from it, but all he could see was some kind of flower on it. So he brought it to his lips and took a small sip.

“Oh.” He muttered after the swallow.

He felt like Ranpo-san was watching him oddly close. “Well?”

“It’s. . . . good. But probably not as sweet as you would like it.” Atsushi said honestly. It was a good drink, very smooth and light.

“Then take them all.” Ranpo-san grumbled. “I don’t want to drink them, they’re so bland! Kyouka-chan, you’ll take them back home, won’t you?”

Kyouka-chan immediately nodded. “Of course.”

For once, the constant companion that was hunger hadn’t visited since yesterday.

Atsushi didn’t notice.

He didn’t notice Kunikida-san switching out his water for the shake drink from time to time, only noticing by the taste once he brought it to his lips.

He didn’t notice when Ranpo-san and Dazai-san started talking in hushed whispers near the sofa.

(“French vanilla huh? I thought you would have gone chocolate to make it more believable.”

“I didn’t want to risk a potentially fatal allergy reaction without Yosano-san here. He does turn into a big cat, after all.”

“Touché.”)

~~~~~~~~~~

He should have expected this.

This being Fukuzawa-san dragging him into his office on Atsushi’s lunch break. Well, not dragging, but escorting with a firm hand. So Fukuzawa-san's version of dragging someone probably.

Now Atsushi liked Fukuzawa-san. He honestly did. The man was the sole reason he had a job and the sole reason he was allowed to keep living. What with the whole, “ability users aren’t allowed to be a part of society without a permit” thing going on with the government. Atsushi honestly liked Fukuzawa-san and the fact that the man took on the task of taking care of others so easily.

But Fukuzawa-san’s authority radiated from him. It was like he was a sun.

And the only other authority figure Atsushi had ever known was the headmaster.

Atsushi liked Fukuzawa-san. Atsushi didn’t like spending time alone with the man. Brought up some nasty memories.

His foot throbbed.

Fukuzawa-san placed a bowl and a cup of tea in front of Atsushi. Ginger tea by the scent, and–

Atsushi inhaled cautiously. It was just Osumashi. It was just a broth soup. Nothing else, no rice, no vegetables. He eyed the president, wondering what the catch was.

“I know the others are quite concerned with getting you to eat full meals again.” The president said, sitting down and pouring his own cup of tea. A different type of soup was on his side. “However, I know the feeling of trying to get used to three full meals a day. You do not feel at your best right now, and a lighter meal would be best.”

Atsushi’s shoulders slumped, and he clapped his hands together with the president and whispered “Itadakimasu.”

Carefully, gingerly, he picked up the broth soup and gave it a sip.

It warmed him up, down to his soul. The quivering of his fingers, that he hadn’t even noticed that had started to come back, were banished.

The gentle tastes of the broth warmed him up, and his tiger curled up in his mind, in his soul, a gentle chuff escaping him once he took another sip.

Atsushi clapped a hand over his mouth, barely able to keep the bowl stable in his other hand. “I- I’m so sorry–!”

“It’s quite alright.” Fukuzawa-san dismissed, although Atsushi spied the tightened grip the president had on his spoon as he drank his own soup. “That means you like it, right?”

Atsushi nodded. “Yes, I think so?”

Fukuzawa-san nodded, and nudged the sugar towards Atsushi. Atsushi put the soup down and put a spoonful of sugar in his tea and stirred it.

Fukuzawa-san watched him with sharp eyes, before his eyes drifted. “Hello Haruno-san.”

Atsushi snapped his head around, because he didn’t hear Haruno-san come in. She was just opening the door, and smiled at Atsushi. “Oh sorry! Am I interrupting?”

“Only a little bit.” Fukuzawa-san said before Atsushi could say no, the soft clinking of a spoon in a cup accompanying his words, barely heard. “Would you like to join us?”

Haruno-san brightened up and walked quickly to grab her own lunch, and Atsushi turned back around. Fukuzawa-san was sipping his own tea.

Atsushi picked up his to drink it.

He frowned when he swallowed it, and pinned the president with a suspicious look. “Did you add more sugar?”

Fukuzawa-san looked serene. “When would I have time to do that?”

Atsushi squinted at the man as Haruno-san came back with her own lunch, looking quite giddy to spend time with Atsushi and Fukuzawa-san. Atsushi immediately tried to stand to give up his seat, but she waved him off, instead pulling up the forgotten chair in the corner. She immediately started chatting about the flowers in the garden, dragging Atsushi into the talk while Fukuzawa-san ate his soup and drank his tea in silence, watching Atsushi like a hawk.

He made sure that Atsushi jotted down the food in his food log before he left to complete his typing, and started talking about gardening food with Haruno-san as Atsushi made his escape.

“Have a good lunch with the President?” Kunikida-san asked as he came back to his desk, and Atsushi nodded.

He did have a good lunch. It was nice to just sit down and chat about inconsequential things, instead of sitting down and talking about what Atsushi had to fix in his day-to-day life. It was nice to have a light meal, after the heavier two meals that had been forced on him yesterday.

The broth had been very good too.

~~~~~~~~~~

Just as Atsushi should have seen the president tracking him down, he should have seen this as well.

This, being the Tanizakis both grabbing onto one of his arms, Naomi-san linking her other arm with Kyouka-chan’s, and dragging them both down the stairs after the day ends.

“Ta-Tanizaki-kun!? Naomi-san!?” Atsushi spluttered, trying to keep his feet under him as they took a sharp turn to the left. Away from the Agency dorms.

“Let us treat you to dinner, Atsushi-kun!” Naomi-san cheered, her hold on his arm not bruising, per se. Just, very very tight. A little too tight, and Atsushi was very careful to keep his breaths even and calm. He had to remind himself that Naomi-san wasn’t that woman, she wasn’t the teacher in the orphanage with the sharp, sharp nails that would cut into his arm.

Atsushi still had small, tiny scars on the inside of his arm.

Naomi-san’s fingers were very close to those scars, but he focused on walking and breathing, before opening his mouth to talk.

“Bu-but! I’ve already eaten so much today, I don’t need to eat anything more, it’s fine, I swear! And we have food at home, Kyouka-chan and I can’t let that spoil–”

“Atsushi-kun, you’ve eaten with everyone else.” Tanizaki-kun frowned. “Don’t you want to eat with us too?”

Atsushi pouted. “That’s not true. I haven’t eaten with Kunikida-san and Yosano-sensei.”

“But you had Ranpo-san treat you to lunch.” Kyouka-chan said placidly, now holding Naomi-san’s hand instead of having their arms linked. “That’s not an everyday occurrence. And I’m sure Kunikida-san is going to treat you to lunch tomorrow. He was writing it in his Ideal today while you were gone.”

Atsushi flushed red at that information. Everyone was so insistent on trying to help him with something that he didn’t need help with.

“Why is everyone so concerned about this now?” He grumbled. It hadn’t mattered before when he was fighting the Port Mafia. When he was sent into battle. When he was being targeted by the Guild. It hadn’t mattered then, why did it matter now?

“Because we can now.” Tanizaki-kun said plainly. “Usually we’re not so busy, Atsushi-kun. What happened with the Port Mafia and the Guild is like, a once in a lifetime event. It slipped under all our radars, so now we’ll take care of you.”

Atsushi went quiet at that, recognizing a battle not worth fighting. Dazai-san had gotten rather good at making him recognize battles he couldn’t win in the real world, the world outside the orphanage.

“Hey, Atsushi-kun?” Tanizaki-kun asked, his grip loosening into something more friendly, but there was still iron in his grip. Like his ability, Tanizaki-kun was hiding what he could be doing. Like a dangerous current hidden under the thin ice over a swiftly moving river. “What kind of books do you read?”

The question threw Atsushi for a loop.

“Uh.” He was drawing a blank. “When I was in the orphanage, I would read a lot of the Chinese myths and fairy tales.” Unbidden, his lips started to smile, thinking of some of the happiest times of his life. “It was nice, reading about how some people would turn into fantastical beasts. Although, now that I know I have that power, it’s not that amazing.”

That got a chuckle out of the group, and Tanizaki-kun nodded. “Were the books old?”

“All of the orphanage’s books were old.” Atsushi answered automatically. “New books meant money. Money was spent on supplies for the orphanage. Books are a treat, a privilege, not a necessity. We sometimes had to burn the books for fire to keep the orphanage warm in the winter.” Atsushi slumped at those memories. His favorite books had been burned straight away, under the guise that no one read them.

Atsushi knew not to protest, even as he watched his mind’s ability to flee from the orphanage burn from the coldest corner of the room.

“I’m sorry.” Tanizaki-kun muttered. “What sort of books do you read now?”

Atsushi tilted his head to look at Tanizaki-kun. He squinted his eyes just ever so slightly.

Tanizaki-kun laughed in return. “Okay yeah. You haven’t had time to find new books to read, have you?”

“Nope.” Atsushi said easily. It was true. Everything had moved so fast once he met Dazai-san, he had been surprised he had found a moment to breathe.

“We’re here!” Naomi-san said brightly, motioning to the restaurant in front of them, and ushered the group inside. They were quickly seated, and Tanizaki-kun had muttered something to the waiter as they were seated, but he spoke so low that Atsushi wasn’t able to catch it.

Technically, now that they weren’t holding his arms, Atsushi could go home.

But that would mean leaving Kyouka-chan alone. And he couldn’t do that. So he sat down, water placed in front of them, but the waiter didn’t come back for their orders, and they didn’t go up to place their orders. Tanizaki-kun looked oddly pleased with himself.

Atsushi eyed him with trepidation, but Tanizaki-kun and Naomi-san immediately pulled Atsushi and Kyouka-chan into a debate about reading materials.

Atsushi was firmly on the side that all books should be saved, even if the majority of the population didn’t agree with them. His belief was that even if the book wasn’t good, it could be used as a sign of what not to do, or a guide for someone else who could be having a similar thought process and may need to prepare themselves for backlash.

Kyouka-chan took his side immediately, but didn’t say anything other than she supported Atsushi. Atsushi needed to get some books for her to read.

Tanizaki-kun took the opposite side of the debate for fun, trying to argue for the ban of certain books or burning of certain books. Atsushi immediately brought up the Library of Alexandria. Was he completely upset and inconsolable when he found out that such a wealth of knowledge had been destroyed? Yes. Yes he was.

It was during this intense debate that he noticed Tanizaki-kun’s goofy grin.

“I didn’t know you could get this fired up over something not concerning Akutagawa.” Tanizaki-kun said. It was said in a lilting tone, something Dazai-san would use, but softer than Dazai-san’s. More Tanizaki-kun like.

Atsushi blinked. Was that a tease? Was Tanizaki-kun teasing Atsushi? Did Tanizaki-kun consider them good enough friends to tease?

“Knowledge is very important.” Atsushi said huffily, crossing his arms and nearly sulking in his seat. “It could mean the difference between life and death.”

“Don’t be like that.” Tanizaki-kun poked his cheek.

Okay.

Okay.

Yeah, Tanizaki-kun was definitely teasing Atsushi.

That was. . . . Atsushi had never had a friend that could tease him. Well, he had had other boys and girls at the orphanage tease him, but their teases were about his hair, his eyes, his tendency to hide away and his inability to be adopted. Their teases were said with cruel tones and sharp glints in their eyes.

Not the softness that Atsushi saw in Tanizaki-kun’s eyes, and not the gentle teasing that he was doing right now.

Atsushi didn’t know how to go from here.

Thankfully, and Atsushi was oh so grateful, the waiter came by and put a large basket steamer in the middle of the table. Spoons and chopsticks were handed out, and he bowed to the group and left.

“Atsushi-kun, have you ever had soup dumplings?” Naomi-san asked, leaning forward and her eyes sparkling. Atsushi shook his head no, not understanding. The girl clapped her hands in response, a bright grin on her face. “You’re in for a treat then!”

Naomi-san showed Atsushi and Kyouka-chan how to scoop the dumplings onto the spoon and to break it with the chopsticks, then swiftly eat the dough and the soup without burning herself.

Atsushi immediately tried, the delicate flavors of the soup and the ground pork mixing well. Kyouka-chan ate hers a little slower, and Atsushi promised in his head to make her chicken or tofu in the morning and evening. She didn’t not like red meat, but it wasn’t her go-to protein either. Chicken and tofu were her favorites.

Before Atsushi had known it, he had eaten at least four of the soup dumplings. Sixteen had been in the basket steamer, so to ensure that everyone had the same amount, he put his chopsticks down.

Tanizaki-kun immediately placed a dumpling in his spoon.

“Huh?”

“Eat up Atsushi-kun! These aren’t nearly as good the second day.” Naomi-san immediately distracted Atsushi.

He didn’t notice that he ate Tanizaki-kun’s four soup dumplings as they continued to converse, lost in the loveliness of simply existing with some people his age.

~~~~~~~~~~

Atsushi had made some Oyakodon in the morning for himself and Kyouka-chan, the girl scarfing it down and going back for seconds. Atsushi was pleased that she was eating so well and encouraged her to take some for lunch if she wished. The girl’s eyes glinted, the want clearly seen, but she refused, only eating half of a second bowl.

“You need some for dinner if no one else drags you off to one.” Was her reasoning, and Atsushi would have protested three days ago. Three days ago, his life had been going back to normal, and now it was being rerouted again.

Another day of typing, another day of logging food (which was new, but Atsushi had been given a task to do and he would do it), Tanizaki-kun and Naomi-san teasing him when they entered and Atsushi hesitantly teasing them back. Naomi-san looked utterly delighted with it and Tanizaki-kun looked pleased.

Ranpo-san pressed another shake that he had mistakenly bought into Atsushi’s hands, even though Atsushi had the ones he bought before at home. He simply hadn’t brought it today, but this one was strawberry, and Atsushi liked strawberries.

He sipped at it, Dazai-san stealing it away sometimes and forcing water into his hand instead. Interestingly enough, Dazai-san hadn’t touched his food log notebook. Dazai-san, who stole Kunikida-san’s Ideal as often as he could, didn’t touch Atsushi’s food log notebook. Atsushi would have thought the man would take it and doodle in it, but no. It was practically invisible to the brunet.

When it twelve o’clock, Kunikida-san stood, up, motioning to Atsushi. “C’mon kid. Kenji, let’s go eat.”

Kenji-kun cheered, and Atsushi grimaced slightly. He really didn’t want to eat lunch. He had eaten so much these past few days. There was no way he could ever pay them all back for the food they had given him.

Kunikida-san didn’t take them far, just down to the Café Uzumaki. It seemed to be where Kunikida-san frequented for food that he didn’t make, and Atsushi didn’t complain. How could he when Kunikida-san was eating with him? And Kenji-kun was walking alongside them, not a hint of a frown on his face.

“Ne, Atsushi-san?” Kenji-kun asked, smiling brightly up at Atsushi, who immediately diverted all attention to his young friend.

“Yes Kenji-kun?”

Atsushi really liked Kenji-kun. The boy smiled even when he should be upset, and never allowed himself to let that smile waver.

And because of that, Atsushi was honestly a little worried for his friend. He remembered keeping his tears from spilling, the adults around him refusing to allow him to cry. Holding his emotions down did nothing good for Atsushi, and while Atsushi was glad that his friend smiled so much, he was concerned for the emotions that Kenji-kun may be suppressing.

“I’m glad you’re eating more now. I was about to send a letter to my baa-chan to ask her what I should feed you to fatten you up!” Kenji-kun said, nearly skipping down the stairs. “Hiyoshi-kun was skinny like you, and he got very, very sick when the winter hit. So, I’m really glad you’re eating now. I was worried, but now I’m not.”

And Atsushi–

Atsushi couldn’t hold to his rules. Not all of them. He had bent the orphanage rules while staying there, maybe he could bend the rules that he carried with him to the outside world?

So he ate his meal that Kunikida-san bought, slowly working his way through the noodles of the Shio ramen that Kunikida-san insisted he eat for lunch. His stomach was heavy, but his heart was lighter than it had been in a long time. As he started working on his filing after lunch, he completely missed Kunikida-san’s and Kenji-kun talking in the background.

(“You’re terrifying when you want to be manipulative.”

“Atsushi-san would have continued to fight! And I was worried, so sharing my gladness that he was eating isn’t manipulation, Kunikida-san.”

“I agree with Kenji-kun, Kunikida-kun!”

“Shut your mouth and do your paperwork you slacker!”)

~~~~~~~~~~

Yosano-sensei came back from her stint at the hospital, and the first thing she did was call Atsushi to her office.

She started the exam, and Atsushi kept still, especially because of the white lab coat.

She muttered to herself. Soft and low as she continued the examination, but also told Atsushi what she was doing as well. It made him feel less of an experiment again. But he also didn’t like the white lab coat, so he stayed still and quiet.

The examination ended with Yosano-sensei motioning for Atsushi to get on the scale in the corner. The last time Atsushi stood on one of those things, the orphanage doctor hadn’t been pleased. Apparently Atsushi had been too heavy for a monster at fifteen years old and thirty-nine kilograms.

Atsushi stepped on the scale again, watching the number go up.

And up.

And up.

Past thirty-nine.

Continued to tick up.

Atsushi felt his breath get quick and panic slid into his throat. Worry making his heart pound.

The scale finally stopped at a number, and Atsushi wasn’t sure if it was a good number or not. It was more than what he had been, but he wasn’t a monster like the orphanage said, right? And his clothes fit. And he was feeling better. But that number–! It was so high! He should probably stop eating and start on a diet and–

“Fifty-five kilograms. Not bad for a starting point.” Yosano-sensei said, peering over his shoulder.

Atsushi blinked. Starting? Point?

“Yosano-sensei?” He asked, his voice coming out creaky and wrong sounding, and Yosano-sensei hummed softly as she scribbled down the large number. “What do you mean starting number?”

“Well, preferably I’d like you to get to a healthier weight.” Yosano-sensei said, finally placing the clipboard and paper down and leading Atsushi off the scale, and sitting him down in a chair. “When you joined the Agency Atsushi, you were very very thin. Do you remember what you last weighed?”

Atsushi bit his bottom lip, remembering the last time he was weighed vividly. “I was thirty-nine kilograms.”

Yosano-sensei inhaled sharply.

“Ah! But I was also fifteen! So it was probably still a good numbe–”

“No Atsushi-kun.” Yosano-sensei cut him off sharply. “No. That is not a good number. Especially with an ability like yours. So, we’re still going to get your weight up, until you’re sixty-eight kilograms. At least.”

Atsushi nearly fainted on the spot. Sixty-eight!?

“I know this is a lot for you right now.” She whispered softly. Her magenta eyes seemed to glow in the light of the room, or maybe it was the glow of her conviction. “But I’ve only failed one patient, Atsushi-kun. I will not fail you. You’re doing amazing right now, you’re honestly making wonderful progress right now.”

Atsushi squirmed in his seat, feeling far too seen and exposed in front of her eyes.

Her gloved hand was gentle as she placed it on his shoulder. “If you need to talk to me, I am here. I. . . .” Yosano-sensei hesitated slightly, before continuing. “I used to be unable to walk. Getting through that was a sort of hell. What you’re going to be going through, it’ll also be hell. I bet it already feels like it with everyone hovering over you?”

Atsushi nodded. “It’s like I can’t go two steps without someone shoving food into my hands in some shape or form.”

“They’re a bunch of worrywarts, Fukuzawa-sensei and Ranpo especially.” Yosano-sensei nodded. “If you need to come to me to vent about them hovering, I will listen. I was once in your shoes with that hovering.” A wry grin spread across her face. “Relearning to walk was hell with them hovering about me, ready to catch me at the slightest trip.”

Atsushi laughed softly. Ranpo-san had already made so many excuses about the shakes he bought, that Atsushi had managed to find out were protein shakes and meal replacements. He wondered what a younger version of Ranpo-san would be like in that sort of sense. Even more unbearable?

“But getting your weight up is a good thing, Atsushi-kun.” She soothed, squeezing his shoulder. “Don’t think it isn’t for a moment.”

Atsushi scuffed his shoe. “I don’t think I can at the moment.” He whispered. “It goes against the rules I was taught.”

“Then we’ll rewrite those rules.” Yosano-sensei said, her tone full of confidence. “Are you okay with that?”

Was Atsushi okay with the Armed Detective Agency rewriting the rules that he had lived with for so long?

He thought about it, tilting his head this way and that, before nodding.

Yes. He really was okay with that.

“Good.” A proud smile graced Yosano-sensei’s face, and Atsushi felt the affection flutters in his stomach again.

“Now get out of my office, preferably before Dazai-kun tries to break down the door with his eavesdropping.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Eating had its ups and downs.

Some days Atsushi would be incredibly hungry, wanting to eat whatever was on his plate or in his bowl.

Other days, he could barely stand to look at the food in the kitchen, instead staying away from the places that created food entirely.

On those days, Dazai-san would slack off on the couch and pull Atsushi down on him, forcing “cuddle time” as he called it. Atsushi had fought it at first, thinking Kunikida-san would be upset that he was sleeping on the job, because Atsushi always fell asleep on the couch with Dazai-san.

But every time he woke up, he was hungry again. He could stand to look at food long enough to eat it quickly, and Atsushi wondered if Dazai-san had a magic spell that he always cast in Atsushi’s sleep over him. And every time he fell asleep on Dazai-san and woke up later, Kunikida-san didn't say anything. Atsushi thought Dazai-san might abuse this, but he always shooed Atsushi towards some food after the naps.

He didn’t notice the progress that happened, little by little, until one day he got up in the middle of the work day and went towards the coffee alcove.

Everyone was holding their breath, watching Atsushi, who didn’t notice.

He simply picked up one of the packets of senbei and made some tea, before wandering back to his desk and eating his snack.

Kunikida-san was rather focused on his work, was what Atsushi did noticed.

He didn’t notice the tears gathering in the man’s eyes, and he didn’t notice the proud grin on Ranpo-san’s face. He didn’t notice the contentment radiating from Kyouka-chan, or the triumph from Dazai-san.

He didn’t notice the happiness nearly bursting from the Tanizakis, nor did he notice Kenji-kun pumping his fists in the air.

He didn’t notice the looks of pride that Yosano-sensei, Fukuzawa-san, and Haruno-san all exchanged.

Atsushi just noticed that his stomach's rumbling died down with the snack, and he got back to work, sipping the tea from time to time.

The food log notebook sat in his desk drawer.

Unneeded, forgotten.

And the Agency worked tirelessly to ensure it stayed that way.