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Chapter Text

The first thing that made Akutagawa suspicious was that Kunikida Doppo kept looking at his watch the entire lesson. You don’t often see the math teacher looking either worried or irritated. It was easy to assume he was waiting for someone, and most likely, that person was late.

As soon as this thought crossed Ryuunosuke’s mind, the door to the classroom swung open. All the students lifted their heads and immediately stood to greet their literature teacher, Osamu Dazai.

"Greetings, kids! I have a surprise for you!" he said with his carefree smile, but that smile didn’t bring Akutagawa any joy. He hated literature with all his heart, and the reason was this bandaged brunette, waving his arms in every direction.

Before Dazai could continue, Ranpo, lounging in the far corner of the classroom, shamelessly unwrapping yet another candy, let out a sly smirk. "We’ve got a new student, right? Though you don’t need to confirm, it’s obvious."

Nothing’s obvious, you idiot.

Akutagawa shifted his annoyed gaze from Ranpo to the detestable teacher. Unfortunately, Ranpo was never wrong, and that meant—

"Absolutely right!" Dazai called out again. A hushed murmur rippled through the classroom. Truthfully, this news piqued Ryuunosuke’s curiosity as well, since there were only two weeks left before the winter exams.

What kind of idiot thinks that’s a good time to transfer schools? That was the second thing that raised suspicion, and gave Akutagawa a headache from all the noise around.

Kunikida, who had surprisingly been silent all this time, stood up from his chair, of course perfectly pushing it back under the desk, and approached Dazai. Everyone quickly covered their ears.

"Dazai! You’re twelve minutes late and didn’t even bother to apologize! I teach a very important subject and you can’t just ruin my schedule like that!" the teacher yelled. Even through their palms, everyone could make out Kunikida’s words.

It seemed that the math teacher's voice was so powerful, the large rulers hanging on the wall began to sway, and the glass cabinet by the window looked like it might crack at any second.

Akutagawa was genuinely surprised by Kunikida’s patience, after all, Osamu Dazai was nothing short of a real monster.

If I were you, I would’ve quit a long time ago.

His thoughts were interrupted by an odd silence that fell around the room. He looked toward the door and, for a fleeting second, their eyes met. The third thing that raised Akutagawa suspicions was the fact that the new boy was wearing jeans.

What the hell?

Everyone’s required to wear a school uniform. The rules here are strict. Is this guy some kind of special case? Annoying.

He didn’t even realize he was staring at him, just like everyone else.

"Don’t be shy, Atsushi. Come in," said the teacher, and the silver-haired boy stepped into the room. Only now did Akutagawa notice how interesting the boy’s eyes were.

Like some kind of gemstone? No, more like a spring sunset. And what was with that haircut?... A single black strand stood out like ink on white paper.

"Everyone, meet Nakajima Atsushi. Starting today, he’ll be studying with you," Dazai announced loudly. Right after those words, a quiet beep was heard. The students and Kunikida all turned their eyes from Atsushi to the literature teacher. Dazai reached into his pants pocket and took out his phone, it looked like he had received a message.

Osamu quickly typed a response and then exchanged a look with Kunikida. "And now I’ve got to run. Good luck, Atsushi!" he turned around, his shoes letting out an unpleasant squeak that made everyone flinch. Then, approaching the door, he left the room, not forgetting to slam it shut behind him.

Kunikida finally allowed himself to relax. He let out a deep breath, crossing his arms in front of him, then glanced at silver-haired boy, who, it seemed, still hadn’t quite realized where he was.  "Atsushi, right? Tell us a bit about yourself."

Only then did the new guy seem to return to reality. He took an awkward step forward, then gave a low bow. 

"My name is Nakajima Atsushi. I’m happy to be studying with you."

After that, Atsushi turned to the teacher and looked at him with pleading eyes. It was clear he had no desire to follow Kunikida’s request.

So he doesn’t want to talk about himself? Or is he just dumb?

Glancing around, Akutagawa noticed the confused looks on his classmates’ faces. Apparently, he wasn’t the only one who thought so. However, it seemed the math teacher was satisfied with his answer.

He didn’t press the poor guy any further. Kunikida glanced at his watch and sighed. "Alright, in 48 seconds I need to be in the principal’s office, so I’ll leave you now. Please don’t make noise and go to lunch."

Atsushi clearly panicked as the teacher walked out. He was practically shaking. It looked pitiful. Nakajima didn’t know where to put his hands, after a few awkward movements, he ended up just fidgeting with his fingers in front of him.

Yet the unsure, almost timid appearance of the silver-haired boy did little to deter his new classmates.

Kyōka approached first, followed immediately by Lucy. Akutagawa didn’t catch the whole conversation, but judging by the new guy’s awkward yet eager smile, he seemed happy to be getting attention, which only made raven-haired boy want to avoid him more. So Ryuunosuke grabbed his things and left the classroom, heading to the restroom.

He had worked hard to get into this school. His grades had always been excellent, and despite his rather grim appearance, many teachers actually liked him.

Akutagawa could almost be called the perfect student, if it weren’t for one small detail.

He pushed open the bathroom door and stepped inside, the faint echo of his footsteps bouncing off the tiled walls. He walked past a sleek, polished marble sink that stretched along one side of the room, its surface cold and spotless.

A massive mirror loomed above it, reflecting the pale, steady figure of a boy who carried himself with quiet intensity — shoulders straight, expression unreadable, eyes sharp like glass. Akutagawa walked to the last stall and pulled out a cigarette. Exhaling the acrid smoke, he allowed himself to relax and leaned against the stall door.

His sister Gin didn’t know about this habit. It was hard to hide, since they lived together, but Ryuunosuke did everything he could to avoid her health lectures. He took another drag, letting the smoke drift slowly through the stale air.

He leaned his head back, trying to collect his thoughts, but then heard voices approaching from the hallway, slicing through the silence like a blade.

"I’ll catch up with you! Just give me five minutes!"

"You sure you’ll be okay on your own?"

"Yeah, don’t worry!"

That annoying voice sounded way too much like the new guy. Akutagawa wouldn’t have cared, but he panicked when he realized Atsushi was heading toward the restroom. Smoking was strictly forbidden at school. If he got caught, things would end very badly.

He froze, hoping the idiot wouldn’t smell the smoke and snitch to a teacher. But it seemed Atsushi had other things on his mind, because the next moment, one of the stall doors opened and Akutagawa heard him gasping? No, he was throwing up.

Oh god.

Ryunosuke tried to ignore the awful, unpleasant sounds coming from his right, but he couldn’t hold out for long. He tossed the cigarette into the toilet, but just as he was about to flush, he realized the noise would give him away.

Damn.

Hoping no one would notice the cigarette floating in the toilet bowl, dark-haired boy carefully stepped out of the stall without making a sound.

After all, there were plenty of students at the school. It was unlikely anyone would think a wet cigarette was his doing.

Atsushi was still hunched over the toilet. His knees were pressed right against the tile floor, no doubt already stained. Disgusting. He probably didn’t even think about his jeans getting dirty.

Passing by him, Akutagawa quietly opened the bathroom door and left. The new guy’s problems weren’t his concern.

The cafeteria was a huge room with dim lighting the air, filled with the smell of fried food and warm bread. Students buzzed with energy, their voices merging into a steady hum of chatter and clinking trays. Many tables were already crowded.

Akutagawa sat in his usual spot next to his sister, who was already deep in conversation with Higuchi and Tachihara. The bench was cold beneath him, the chill seeping through his uniform and sending a small shiver up his spine, the edge of the metal table cool against his arms as he set down his tray.

"Do you think the new guy might be a model?" Tachihara wondered.

"Yeah, a model for toilet cleaning ads," Akutagawa thought to himself as he unwrapped his sandwich from its cardboard wrapper and began to eat.

"He’s pretty handsome," Gin agreed. Akutagawa almost choked on his sandwich. He glared at his sister, who only rolled her eyes in response.

Ryuunosuke was strict when it came to his sister’s personal life. She wasn’t allowed to bring boys home, let alone date anyone. And if she happened to find the new guy attractive, there was no way he’d ever allow that. Just the thought was revolting.

"Ryunosuke, you’re still more handsome!" Higuchi suddenly blurted out.

Akutagawa often got compliments from her but never understood why. He didn’t consider himself handsome, and besides, his personality wasn’t exactly well-liked. Not knowing what to say, he stayed silent.

The gentle aroma of the tea rose to meet him as he lifted the cup, and with a slow sip, warmth spread through his chest, soothing something he couldn’t quite name. Across from him, Higuchi turned bright red and quickly hid her face behind her hands, mortified by her own words.

Gin gave her a half-smile, and Tachihara muttered something teasing that made Higuchi laugh awkwardly. Their conversation continued, but Ryunosuke had already drifted away from it.

His gaze wandered beyond their table, scanning the cafeteria until it settled on something, or rather, someone, that caught his attention.

"We’re here, Atsushi!" Kaiji called out with a bright smile.

They were sitting at the next table. Ryuunosuke saw his classmates Lucy, Kyōka, and Ranpo smiling at the new guy too.

Had he really already gotten along with all of them?

While Atsushi seemed to attract people without even trying, Ryunosuke was merely a shadow slipping past, unnoticed and uninviting. He struggled with social interaction. He viewed everyone with quiet suspicion, a habit carved into him by his childhood.

"What do you think, Ryuu?" Gin suddenly asked, catching him off guard.

Akutagawa turned toward his sister. His confused expression clearly irritated her. She sighed and elbowed him in the side.

"You weren’t listening, were you? Never mind."

Ryuunosuke was about to ask what she meant, but suddenly the voice of Principal Mori came through the school radio.

"Dear students, please do not panic. There has been a bank robbery near the school. The situation is extremely dangerous, so proceed to the safe zone until the police arrive."

A robbery? Seriously? Crime’s gotten so bad in this town that it’s not even safe to go to school anymore.

It wasn’t the first time Ryuunosuke faced something like this. He and his sister had grown up on the streets, learning to fend for themselves through harsh winters, empty stomachs, and nights without shelter, they could protect themselves.

After the announcement, a wave of unease rippled through the cafeteria. Chairs scraped against the floor and trays were hastily pushed aside. Knowing he wouldn’t get the chance to finish his lunch in peace, Akutagawa moved with the crowd toward the cafeteria exit, stepping into the narrow hallway.

Everyone knew what to do, incidents like this weren’t uncommon in the area. That’s why the school did everything in its power to keep its students safe.

"Excuse me! I really need to use the restroom!" a panicked voice rang out next to him.

Turning around, he saw the new guy pleading with the biology teacher and school doctor, Yosano Akiko.

"Sorry, kid. This is an emergency. I can’t let you go alone."

"Please… I really need to…" Atsushi desperately tried to convince her. She must have gotten tired of it because she stepped aside and shouted at him not to take too long.

The happy idiot ran down the empty hallway.

"Probably off to make out with the toilet again," thought the dark-haired boy, watching from a distance.

Apparently, Akutagawa had zoned out, because the next thing he knew, he was being shoved hard into the wall. Pain shot through his back from the sudden impact.

Whoever had done it muttered something rude, though Akutagawa couldn’t make out the words over the ringing in his ears.

Ryuunosuke clenched his jaw, ready to snap back with a sharp retort, but stopped when he felt a firm hand on his shoulder. Yosano now stood beside him, her stern expression making it very clear she wasn’t in the mood for arguments.

Swallowing his anger, he gave a small nod and continued walking toward the designated safe zone with the rest of the students.

The hallway was packed, bodies brushing against each other with every step. Akutagawa hated this kind of contact—the heat, the noise, the way people bumped into him. It made his skin crawl. Suddenly, loud shouts of excitement erupted from up ahead, snapping him out of his daze.

"No way! It’s Spider-Man!"

Wait…what?

Chapter Text

Atsushi knows he is not worthy of this power. He knows he doesn't deserve to live. His father has reminded him of that more than once. And now, Nakajima clings to saving others like it's all he has left. It's the only thing that keeps him from breaking apart, the one reason he gets out of bed in the morning.

Fatigue, hunger, none of it matters to him. He scours the news, hunting for signs of danger, because the only thing that brings the slightest relief is the gratitude of the people he manages to save.

Sometimes, cloaked in the dead of night, he swings through the city with nothing but his web and his desperation, a streak of white darting across the sky like a ghost.

His suit, pale and glowing under the city lights, is etched with black web-like lines and the emblem of a spider on his chest. In the darkness of narrow alleys and rooftops, he stands out unmistakable.

To the people, he is a symbol of hope in a world that’s long stopped believing in one. But Atsushi doesn’t see himself that way. He is no God, no Guardian Angel. How could he be, when the crimes never end, when he's so often too late to stop someone’s pain?

And every time he fails, guilt burrows deeper, staying for days, for weeks, a wound that refuses to heal.

Whether it’s something small like a stolen purse or something dangerous like an armed robbery, Atsushi jumps into every situation without thinking twice, as if saving others is the only way he can convince himself that his life is worth something at all.

His father has no idea that the famous Spider-Man he sees on the screen is actually very close by.

Sometimes, he comes home and finds Atsushi gone, busy saving lives. And so, when Atsushi returns exhausted, instead of getting rest, he is punished.

"Where the hell have you been?! You think you can just leave the house whenever you feel like it?!"

He can’t fight back. He can’t hurt him. After all, he is still his father. And besides, Atsushi never has the strength left to resist. Even after going through hell, the white-haired boy would leave the house again the next day, hoping his father wouldn’t notice he was gone.

After all, barely anyone even knows he exists. His father is a well-known scientist in the field of nanotechnology. So he kept their family life completely hidden from the public eye. Any news about Atsushi would probably ruin his reputation.

Nakajima isn’t worthy of being called his son.

Atsushi lost his mother when he was just a child, too young to remember her face, too young to understand what he was losing.

From then on, it was just him and his father. And no one ever stood between them. No one ever protected him from the cruelty that followed.

Atsushi hadn’t been popular at his previous school either. Most days, he skipped classes entirely, swinging through the city in his white suit, the same suit that, with each passing day, appeared more and more on the front pages of newspapers and TV screens.

When his father found out he'd been skipping school, he completely forbade Atsushi from leaving the house. The punishments become more severe, dragging on late into the night, only stopping when his father finally goes to bed.

And even then, Atsushi forces himself back out into the city for another patrol, ignoring the pain coursing through his body.

He is deeply shocked to find out he's being transferred to a new school.

"They’re strict there. Maybe you'll finally start studying, and maybe then your pathetic life will get some meaning," his father says.

A million thoughts run through Atsushi’s mind. How is he supposed to save the world from crimes now if he can’t sneak away when needed?

That’s how he ends up standing outside the principal’s office in a new school, where the walls are painted a soft cream color and rows of lockers line the hallway in perfect, quiet order. The building feels cleaner, brighter, almost too clean for someone like him.

The principal, Mori, is the first person Atsushi meets. Unfortunately, his father is also there, telling the principal all about Nakajima’s failures. He even calls him pathetic and unworthy of life, probably out of habit. If Mori was at all disturbed by this, he doesn’t show it.

Once his father finally leaves the office, Mori smiles at Atsushi and types something quickly on his phone.

"I know someone who can help you here. Meet Osamu Dazai, your new literature teacher," he says, just as a brunette bursts into the room shouting, "Are you seriously promoting Chuuya?!"

But the moment the brunette sees Nakajima, his expression shifts to one of disappointment.

Is this my fault?

However, Mori's laugh pulls Atsushi snap out of his racing thoughts, pulling him back to reality.

"My goodness, Mr. Mori. If you wanted me here so urgently, you could’ve just said so. You nearly gave me a heart attack with that message."

"Well, it worked, Dazai. Alright then, go on. You know what you need to do."

Without hesitation, Osamu grabs Atsushi by the wrist and starts leading him out of the office.

"Yeah, yeah, don’t worry," he says without even turning around. Atsushi can’t help but notice the bandages peeking out from under Dazai’s sleeves and collar. Is he abused too?

But unlike Dazai, Nakajima can’t afford the luxury of bandages. His only protection is the clothes he wears. Long sleeves pulled low and high collars do their best to hide the bruises he never treats, but even then, the faint outlines sometimes show through, as if the pain refuses to be fully covered.

Today, he has on jeans and a gray, rather old turtleneck. As if reading his thoughts, Dazai suddenly stops and lets go of his wrist.

"By the way, Mori told me yesterday that you were coming, but I was a little busy… So I didn’t get a chance to bring you your uniform. It should be ready by tomorrow, though."

"That's okay. Thank you, Dazai."

The literature teacher glances at Atsushi briefly and keeps walking, making him follow. They pass through hallways filled with paintings and emergency exit instructions posted on the walls, things

Atsushi barely glances at, because Dazai walks surprisingly fast, making it hard for Atsushi to keep up.

Eventually, they stop in front of the math classroom, or at least that’s what the sign on the door says.

"Wait here," Osamu says before kicking the door open with a loud bang, the sound echoing down the hallway as he barges in.

The sudden noise makes Atsushi flinch, but he tries to stay calm. Seconds, or maybe minutes, pass, and then he hears someone yelling at Dazai. Curiosity gets the better of him. He carefully approaches the door, and some students in the class glance curiously at the newcomer.

Before he even has time to blink, he’s being called inside and asked to introduce himself. All he remembers is the intense stare of a boy with black hair and… white tips? What kind of haircut is that?...

Atsushi doesn’t want to talk about himself. He doesn’t even know what to say. Other than being Spider-Man, he’s no one. So, he silently pleads with the teacher, Kunikida, to let him skip the introductions.

It seems the teacher understands. A second later, he’s already stepping out, abandoning Atsushi to face a bunch of strangers on his own.

Oh God, what do I do?

To his surprise, most of the class just walks out, and only a few approach him which makes him smile awkwardly. Once again, he feels someone's intense gaze on him but chooses to ignore it.

"My name’s Izumi Kyōka. Nice to meet you, Atsushi!" says a cute girl with twin ponytails.

"Just call me Lucy," another girl adds bluntly, looking him up and down. "Why aren’t you in uniform?" she asks. But Atsushi doesn’t even get the chance to answer before a youthful male voice speaks up beside him.

"Obviously because his uniform will be ready tomorrow!" says a boy with a lollipop in his mouth, with even more candies stuffed in his pockets and scattered across his desk? Atsushi decides not to think too hard about it.

"How do you know?" is all Nakajima manages to ask.

"I’m Ranpo! And I know everything, because I’m going to be the greatest detective ever!"

His words warm Atsushi’s heart. He enjoys hearing about other people’s dreams. But at the same time, he grows uneasy. This guy could be dangerous. What if he figures out he's Spider-Man? Anxiety starts to bubble inside the white-haired teen.

"You city folk have pretty funny clothes," says a blond boy who, just a moment ago, had been sitting next to Ranpo and was now suddenly standing in front of Nakajima. "My name’s Kenji! If you ever need a cow, Atsushi, just let me know."

"Nice to mee—wait, what?"

A cow? Who are these people I’m about to study with?

"Alright, let’s go eat," Lucy declares, and everyone agrees. Apparently, they all know each other well.

Atsushi has no choice but to follow his new classmates. They step into a wide hallway flooded with soft afternoon light. Tall windows line one side, casting golden beams across the pale walls.

Nakajima, walking just a step behind, feels the contrast press down on his chest — this kind of peace, this warmth in the air, has never been part of his world.

It all feels distant, like something meant for someone else. Despite the chill lingering outside, the school feels warm and full of life.

But then, out of nowhere, a sharp pain knots in his stomach, stopping him in his tracks and making his steps falter.

Damn it. Why now?

"I’ll catch up with you! Just give me five minutes!" Atsushi says with a strained smile, trying to hide the fact that he’s seconds away from throwing up right there in the hallway.

"You sure you’ll be okay on your own?" Kyōka asked, her face full of uncertainty.

"Yeah, don’t worry!" was the last thing he said as he turned away. While standing outside the math classroom, he quickly scanned the hallway and spotted a nearby bathroom, which now seemed like a lifesaver.

Atsushi doesn’t remember how he got in. When he finally comes back to his senses, the first thing he notices is the smell of cigarettes and the dryness in his mouth.

Cleaning himself up is mechanical, almost ritualistic. He splashes cold water on his face. With a deep breath, he lifts his head to the mirror, forcing the corners of his lips upward.

He’s done it so many times, it’s second nature now.

After leaving the bathroom, he asked a junior student for directions to the cafeteria. As he walked down the hallway, stomach still queasy, he began crafting excuses to avoid eating.

"We’re here, Atsushi!"

Atsushi hadn’t even fully stepped into the cafeteria when his new… friend? Kenji suddenly called out to him. He was waving enthusiastically, seated at the farthest table alongside Lucy, Kyouka, and Ranpo.

How did Kenji even notice him that quickly?

He walks over and sits next to Ranpo. A strange feeling, as if every movement of his was being studied, refused to leave Atsushi and sent a shiver down his spine.

"Atsushi, where’s your food?" Lucy asks with a curious look.

"I’m not hungry," is all he can say.

He expected that after this, no one would pay attention to him and everyone would just go back to eating their food. However, his new classmates kept asking questions about his life.

Atsushi answered as best he could. It’s not often that anyone asks him about his favorite color or food… At some point, the girls get caught up in a new topic, thank God, Ranpo gets busy munching on sweets, and Kenji… pulls out meat from his bag? Atsushi decides not to dig into that.

Nakajima prefers to observe his surroundings. The students seem happy, chatting with each other. The whole school feels like a different world, one he has yet to get used to.

But something catches his eye. Someone who doesn’t quite fit in with the magical atmosphere. At a nearby table, three students he saw in math class are having what seems to be an intense conversation. A red-haired guy whispers something to two girls, while the dark-haired boy with the mysterious aura… stares at him.

Atsushi freezes.

So that's whose gaze he felt since entering the cafeteria… But something in the boy’s misty eyes makes him hesitate. He carefully turns his head left, then right. No reaction.

Maybe he isn’t looking at Atsushi after all?

What is he thinking?

But this gives Atsushi a chance to observe his new classmate. He already knows they won’t get along.

His entire appearance screams, "Don’t mess with me." Even the school uniform fits him perfectly. Is that even possible? He doesn’t look human. Even his strange haircut looks perfect, emphasizing those misty eyes.

"I never thought Dazai was married. Are you sure, Tachihara?" asks the girl who looks a lot like the emotionless boy who sits next to her.

"Well, that’s how it looks. How else would you explain it?" replies the boy across from her.

"What do you think, Ryuu?"

Ryuu? Is that his name?

The boy flinches when the girl addresses him. But Atsushi doesn’t get to see anything else, because Ranpo drops a bag of candy on the floor and instantly complains that he isn’t helping him pick it up.

The girls across from him scolded the young detective for his manners, but Atsushi didn’t care. He was always ready to help. Bending under the table, Nakajima tucks his bangs behind his ear to help with Ranpo’s so-called "disaster."

As he picks up a few candies, the voice of the school principal comes through the radio.

"Dear students, please do not panic. There has been a bank robbery near the school. The situation is extremely dangerous, so proceed to the safe zone until the police arrive."

Oh shit.

The students begin pouring out of the cafeteria. The silver-haired student plans to sneak away to a quiet spot, but a teacher with a butterfly clip blocks his path.

However, after a few words and Atsushi’s panicked voice, she finally lets him through.

Relieved, Nakajima rushes to the bathroom, pulls a small metal disk from his pocket, his nano-suit. He presses the button and brings the disc close to his chest, activating the familiar white suit in a flash of light. It completely covers Atsushi’s body, as if shielding him from the outside world, or perhaps shielding the world from his true self.

Many would likely be disappointed to learn that someone like him became a famous hero. The boy made the suit himself, the one upside of having a father famous for nanotech. Not that scientist knows about this little creation.

The cream-colored walls of the bathroom stall flash white, and in the next moment, Atsushi is outside, in front of the bank, ready to fight.

Unfortunately, he doesn’t notice the girl watching him from a classroom window, already filming and shouting about his appearance.

Akutagawa's eyes did not deceive him. That really was Spider-Man. The video had spread at lightning speed. A white suit with black stripes and webbing shooting from his hands. That was definitely Spider-Man.

What the hell?

How did he end up here, and how did he find out about the bank robbery so quickly?

Akutagawa was about to analyze all possible scenarios for the famous hero’s sudden appearance when the crowd abruptly surged in the opposite direction — toward the school exit, toward the heart of the chaos, toward Spider-fucking-Man.

Ryuunosuke was nearly crushed. A mob of screaming girls, and even guys, was probably the most horrifying sound he’d ever experienced.

No matter how hard the teachers tried to hold the students back, it was all in vain.

Akutagawa was pushed outside, and the first thing he saw was Spider-Man punching one of the robbers, slamming him against a wall, and then webbing him up.

The bank was located just a few meters across from the school. Looking around, Ryuunosuke spotted pistols lying on the ground and a black car completely wrapped in webbing.

Most likely, the other criminals were trapped inside. Raven-haired boy abruptly realized how chilly it was outside. After all, it was the beginning of December.

As soon as Spider-Man heard the police sirens in the distance, he said something to the robber and then looked at the crowd of students.

Akutagawa felt like those black “spider” eyes were staring right at him when the hero, like a complete idiot, formed a finger gun and "shot", either at him or at the crowd. The reaction was instant.

Screams from the girls echoed down the street. Damn. At this rate, his ears were going to explode.

He barely had time to blink before Spider-Man vanished, and the police took over, scolding the students for rushing outside, which Akutagawa didn’t mind at all, considering only complete idiots would run toward the chaos just to see a superhero.

Fighting off his headache, he made his way to the school’s backyard, using the chaos as an excuse to sneak off for a smoke.

Atsushi returned to the school building as quickly as possible and immediately got rid of his suit. He let out a relieved sigh that no one had noticed him.

His thoughts drifted back to the crowd of students, specifically, to one cold and expressionless guy. Well, he couldn't call him emotionless anymore. Atsushi laughed to himself in the empty bathroom.

The moment he looked at him, he had seen the disgust on the guy’s face from all the screaming girls around. When their eyes met, the black-haired student looked completely shocked, as if his eyes were about to pop out of his head.

Was meeting Spider-Man really that surprising?

Even more amusing to Nakajima was the look of sheer contempt when he had mimicked shooting at him with his fingers like a toy gun.

I think I’ll remember that face forever.

Finally managing to suppress his laughter, the boy headed for the bathroom door. People were crowding the hallway, showing each other the clips they’d managed to record.

Atsushi felt awkward hearing all the compliments aimed at Spider-Man. Some of them were way too… detailed.

His hearing was much better than everyone else's, as were his sight and sense of smell. That’s why, on his way to the chemistry lab, he suddenly caught the scent of cigarettes.

Wasn't it the same smell as in the bathroom? Turning his head, he spotted Ryuu. That was his name, right?

Did he always smell like cigarettes?

Atsushi gave him a disgusted look. He really didn’t want to keep smelling that awful odour during lessons. Ryuu seemed to notice how he was staring at him, because in the next second, the dark-haired boy shoved him against the wall with full force, practically choking him with an elbow pressing hard against his neck.

"Got something to say, idiot? Why the hell are you staring at me?!"

God. Was it really that easy to piss him off?

While wearing the Spider-Man suit, Atsushi had found it amusing to see some emotion on that bastard’s face.

But now, he didn’t like the anger twisted across his features. What had Atsushi even done to deserve this? He was especially pissed that the guy was pushing on his neck.

Yesterday, his father had tried to strangle him again, and the bruises still hurt like hell.

"Get your filthy hands off me," he said, shoving the dark-haired boy back. "You reek of cigarettes from two kilometers away," Atsushi snapped.

Ryuu stared at him in shock.

Did he really notice me back in the bathroom?

The thought flashed through Akutagawa's mind. But he had clearly forgotten they weren’t alone. Nakahara Chuuya, the physics teacher and sports club advisor, appeared behind Ryuunosuke.

The other students who happened to be in the hallway at that moment immediately scattered without a trace at the sight of the teacher.

"What did I just hear, Akutagawa?" he asked sternly.

"Akutagawa? I thought his name was Ryuu?” Atsushi blurted out.

Ryuunosuke stared at him again in disbelief. Even the physics teacher looked surprised.

"Akutagawa, have you two been exchanging cute nicknames?" Chuuya asked seriously, though his smirk showed he’d just found new gossip material for Dazai.

Oh crap.

Akutagawa chose to remain silent. But the idiot across from him was clearly flustered.

"No, not at all! We barely know each other!" the white-haired boy said, waving his hands defensively. Atsushi wanted nothing to do with black-haired boy.

"Well then, Ryuu, it looks like you and I need to have a chat," Chuuya said, mocking and threatening Akutagawa at the same time.

"Akutagawa Ryuunosuke," he finally told Atsushi.

"What?"

"That’s my name, dumbass."

After that, he got smacked on the head by Nakahara for his bad manners and was dragged away, leaving Atsushi standing in the hallway alone.

Chapter Text

That damn Atsushi.

Because of him, Akutagawa had been stuck in Chuuya’s physics classroom, a tidy space lined with old lab equipment and sun-faded posters of Newton's laws.

The room smelled faintly of chalk and old books, mixed with the lingering scent of coffee. The teacher had just finished his third cup. Wasn’t three cups of coffee a bit too much? Why does he even drink coffee after lunch?

Ryuunosuke’s eyes paused on the shelves, crammed with scientific equipment and dusty textbooks. Meanwhile, Chuuya paced back and forth, delivering a seemingly endless lecture about proper school behavior and the dangers of smoking.

Akutagawa was beyond annoyed.

Honestly, he never planned to get involved with Nakajima. Especially not after the wave of disgust he felt when he first saw him in the classroom surrounded by girls, and later, in the bathroom, clinging to a toilet bowl. Yet, a string of unfortunate events had brought him here.

First of all, he probably hurt his sister's feelings in the cafeteria by not answering her question. Tachihara always rambled about nonsense, how was he supposed to know that this time he needed to listen?

Gin’s expression had clearly shown her disappointment, and all because of that toilet-lover, apparently. Sure, Akutagawa had been staring at him, but after a moment, he seemed to zone out, something that had been happening far too often lately.

He just hoped Gin wouldn’t stay mad for long. Ever since their argument about her personal life and Akutagawa’s attempt to impose restrictions, there was an invisible wall between them. One he couldn’t break down.

He was just worried about his sister! Was that really worth getting so worked up over?

Then, some guy had shoved him in the hallway. It would’ve been much better if his problems ended there. But no, they didn’t.

After that there was the whole ordeal with the screaming Spider-Man fangirls, all of it piling up and testing his patience.

And just when Akutagawa wanted a peaceful smoke break, he realised he only had five minutes left before class.

That’s exactly why he couldn’t hold back when he saw Atsushi’s look of pure disgust. He needed to let off some steam.

“Akutagawa, are you even listening?” Chuuya’s voice cut in.

“Yes.”

“Then what did I just say?”

The best defense is a good offense.

“Sorry, Nakahara Chuuya, but I already missed Chemistry because of you, and I really don’t want to be late for Literature. You know what Dazai’s like, he takes points off on tests for every mistake. Just being late will cost me five.”

The thing was, at their school, both teachers and students made an effort to maintain a friendly atmosphere. As Mori always says, it helps students feel more at ease.

That’s why they were allowed to address teachers by their first names without unnecessary formality, or rather; they were required to do so. After all, the rules at this school were quite… unusual. So the students were informed about them in advance.

Akutagawa couldn’t help but picture the surprised look on Atsushi’s face when he received the file with the school rules from the principal.

Even Akutagawa himself had been a little confused when he and his sister read the information about this so-called 'elite' place.

He understood that breaking the rules could lead to severe consequences. Fortunately, Chuuya had decided to save the situation and not report directly to the principal about Ryuunosuke smoking habit, something the dark-haired boy was truly grateful for.

Eventually, teacher sighed deeply, looking at the emotionless boy in front of him. There was something in him, a spark, a heaviness in his eyes that reminded Nakahara of his younger self.

He could only hope the boy would someday meet someone who could bring light into his life, just as that bastard once had done for him.

His eyes shifted to the desk, cluttered with folders and dust-covered papers. A grimace flickered across his face. So much work, so little time. “Fine. You can go,” the teacher said quietly, sitting back down and burying himself in paperwork.

Akutagawa felt a wave of relief, this nightmare was finally over. He was just about to leave when Chuuya added, eyes still on the documents, “The janitor found a cigarette in the boys’ bathroom recently. That wouldn’t happen to be your handiwork, would it?” He raised his eyes.

The atmosphere in the room shifted instantly. Akutagawa’s shoulders stiffened. Under the teacher’s piercing gaze, he forced himself to stay still, doing his best to appear unfazed. 

Ryuunosuke didn’t need to say a word, Nakahara had already seen everything he needed to.

 “If I catch you smoking on school grounds again, our next conversation won’t be so polite.”

That was enough of a warning. Akutagawa turned around and shut the door behind him.

Akutagawa Ryuunosuke left with the teacher in the hat, which gave Atsushi a strange mix of relief and irritation.

Who does this guy think he is?

Trying to ignore the burning pain in his throat, Atsushi headed to the Chemistry room. As he made his way down the hallway, his footsteps echoing softly against the tiled floor and the clatter of students slamming their lockers shut. 

Atsushi should get his own locker too. It would be so much more convenient. He wouldn’t have to carry his textbooks and notebooks home all the time. He could leave them at school. And maybe, just maybe, he could even decorate his locker.

However, his daydream was cut short when he ran into two people rounding the corner.

“Oh, you’re the new guy, right? Ranpo messaged me about you,” said the red-haired boy.

The silver-haired boy reacted quickly and immediately bowed to greet the couple.

“That’s right! Nakajima Atsushi. Nice to meet you! And you are…?”

“Ah, right. I’m Tanizaki Junichirou, and this is my sister, Tanizaki Naomi. We’re your classmates,” he said, smiling.

“Naomi wasn’t feeling well this morning, so we missed a few classes,” he explained. Nakajima caught a faint scent of roses; it seemed to be Naomi’s perfume.

“And we had a great time together, didn’t we, brother?” said the girl with a smirk.

Atsushi decided not to ask further. He was already getting the sense that this class was filled with freaks.

Junichirou blushed and coughed awkwardly into his hand, trying to hide his face.

“Well then, Atsushi, we should probably head to Chemistry,” he said trying to change the subject. Atsushi looked at the girl who, despite her brother's already flushed face, grabbed his hand tightly, pulling it close as she wrapped herself around his arm.

She leaned in, stretching her neck in an exaggerated motion, clearly trying to reach Junichirou's cheek with her lips.

Naomi's brother looked like he was about to melt. The red-haired boy threw Atsushi a pleading glance, silently begging for help escaping his sister’s grip.

But you know what? Atsushi wasn’t ready for that. So, he gave him an apologetic look, quickly turned around, and finally rounded the corner.

As he walked, glancing at the enormous plants in the vases, he faintly heard Junichirou’s desperate cry.

Poor guy.

With that thought, Atsushi quickened his pace.

Chemistry turned out to be… interesting. Their teacher, Kajii Motojirou, was a bit eccentric and ended the lesson by showing them how to make homemade smoke bombs using household items.

Atsushi found it slightly unprofessional but chose to stay quiet, after all, no one else seemed to mind.

Akutagawa didn’t show up.

Nakajima had assumed Ryuunosuke was the kind of student who never missed a class. Maybe he was wrong. Or maybe the physics teacher was the reason he couldn’t bring himself to attend. Still, he didn’t feel sorry for that cigarette-lover, not even a little.

Meanwhile, rumors of Spider-Man continued to spread across the school. Even his classmates considered the topic rather intriguing. Atsushi, however, did his best to avoid any discussion about his secretive identity.

As he made his way to Literature class, the steady buzz of student chatter filled the corridor. He passed a group of girls gathered near the trophy case, sunlight pouring through the tall windows behind them. "I should take a closer look at that later," he thought, his gaze lingering on the golden trophies sealed behind the clear glass.

One of the girls, who wore a bright red dress and matching earrings, stood with her chin held high, speaking just loud enough to draw attention.

“Yep, Spider-Man met me personally behind the alley,” she said, flipping her hair over one shoulder. “What happened next is for me to know.”

“Come on, Elise! Tell us!” her friends begged. They were all dressed in crisp black-and-white uniforms, perfectly pressed and immaculately neat.

Walking beside Nakajima, Kyōka caught his lingering gaze and answered the silent question that had begun to form in his mind.

"That’s Elise," she said softly. "She’s Mori’s daughter. He dotes on her and lets her skip the school uniform."

Elise’s red dress stood out like a flame among shadows, just as much as Atsushi’s jeans did.

"I see, but… Doesn’t that seem a little unfair?" he asked, his tone calm but curious.

Kyōka hadn’t expected the question. "It doesn’t bother me," she replied after a pause. "And I don’t think anyone else really minds, either."

With that, she quietly moved ahead, her steps quickening to catch up with Lucy, who had already walked on.

At some point, the meaning behind Elise’s words finally clicked, and the boy couldn’t hide his surprise at how casually she lied to her friends about a secret encounter with Spider-Man.

Did she really not feel even a little guilty for telling such a bold lie?

But what could he possibly do? Atsushi couldn’t help but imagine himself walking up to the girls and boldly declaring, “Actually, I’m Spider-Man, and I’ve never seen her before in my life!”

The absurdity of the idea made him smile to himself. With a quiet sigh, he continued down the hallway toward Osamu Dazai’s classroom.

The first thing Akutagawa noticed upon entering the classroom was a group of students clustered in the center, talking excitedly. And right there, in the thick of it, was the silver-haired idiot who’d made his day truly unbearable.

Atsushi saw him walk in but immediately averted his gaze, focusing instead on Gin, who was saying something to him.

Wait…Gin?

Ryuunosuke didn’t even notice how he ended up right next to his sister, grabbing her wrist in a sudden motion. The irritation was written all over him, from his clenched jaw to the sharp glint in his eyes.

Gin winced, clearly in pain, and that was all it took for Atsushi to react. His eyes widened, and in a heartbeat, he grabbed Akutagawa’s arm and shoved him back, his movements instinctive and urgent.

“What the hell are you doing?” he asked, glaring at him with irritation.

“I need to talk to my sister. So stay out of it,” The dark-haired boy replied as calmly as possible, but his exasperated tone and tense jaw betrayed his rising fury.

“Sister?” Nakajima blinked at Gin, clearly baffled. He looked so stunned that Ryuunosuke almost laughed.

“I’m sorry, Atsushi. Thank you for your concern. But I’ll go,” Gin said coldly, throwing her brother a furious glare.

The rest of the class had long stopped talking and were simply watching the scene unfolding before them.

Akutagawa followed his sister into the hallway. There were only seconds left before the lesson began, so he had to talk to Gin as quickly as possible.

“Gin, I’m sorry about grabbing your wrist. I was just angry.”

“Because I was talking to a guy you didn’t approve of?”

“What?”

“Why do I need your permission to talk to someone else? I can’t take this anymore, Ryuu! My life is none of your business. Stop trying to control it!”

He had seen Gin angry before, but this time her voice trembled. Damn. She was going to cry at this rate.

“Gin, please listen—”

But she was already walking back into the classroom, slamming the door shut behind her without another glance.

Akutagawa froze. His emotions churned violently, a storm of nausea twisting his stomach and a sharp, relentless pressure tightening in his chest, as if the very air had grown too heavy to breathe.

“Well, well, Akutagawa. Are you deliberately trying to lose points on the test?” came a familiar, teasing voice behind him.

Turning his head, the student saw the literature teacher. Panic rising, Ryuunosuke pushed open the wooden door and hurried into the classroom, quickly taking his seat.

Dazai could read his students like an open book. That’s exactly why he didn’t say anything when he noticed the raven-haired boy’s trembling hands as he fumbled with the door.

Following him inside, Osamu greeted the rest of the class and immediately began the lesson.

That’s what unsettled Akutagawa the most. Usually, Dazai would make a big show out of announcing how many points each student had lost. But now? Nothing. No sarcastic remarks, no dramatic sighs. Just silence. Maybe he truly wasn’t in the mood to humiliate Ryuunosuke today. Or maybe… he wasn’t going to deduct any points at all.

Was this pity?

Silence fell. The classroom was much darker than the hallway, as if it drained the souls of anyone who stayed there too long.

A true monster’s lair, its owner casually scribbling on the board with a piece of chalk, quietly humming an old tune. It was the only sound that broke the heavy silence, a faint, fragile reminder that there were still living souls within these walls.

Sitting by the window, Akutagawa drifted into his thoughts.

The short-tempered jerk had a sister. How could someone so sweet and gentle be related to such an ass?

Seated behind Ryuunosuke in Dazai’s classroom, Atsushi found his gaze drifting toward the back of the other boy’s head. Unlike in Kunikida’s class, where desks were arranged in pairs, here they stood separately.

But Akutagawa didn’t seem to notice his gaze. Raven-haired boy stared out the window, occasionally dipping his head to jot down a line or two from the book Dazai was preparing to dissect.

Eventually, Atsushi gave up on trying to bore a hole through the back of his classmate’s head with sheer concentration. Instead, he slipped his phone out from under the desk, careful to move only when Dazai was lost in one of his signature, overly dramatic metaphors.

Naturally, he opened the news. A few articles about recent solved crimes helped ease his nerves.  Nakajima was relieved to know that nothing terrible had happened after the bank robbery.

A faint smile tugged at his lips. A few loose strands of hair brushed against his cheek, tickling his skin softly.

Yet the pleasant atmosphere was abruptly broken as the book in front of him snapped shut, causing Atsushi to flinch. His smile vanished instantly, as if someone had doused him with a bucket of cold water.

“Atsushi,” Dazai said, his tone far too cheerful, one hand still resting on the crimson-covered book. “Are you texting your girlfriend?”

Before Nakajima realized it, Osamu was already standing beside him. He panicked, quickly shoving the phone into his pocket.

“Tsk, tsk. I’m going to have to deduct a whole point from your test for bad behavior,” the teacher said with a grin.

Everyone turned to look at him, everyone except Ranpo, who appeared fast asleep, propped up by nothing but his own hand resting against his cheek.

The glare from the student in front of him was especially deadly.

What had he done this time to piss off Ryuunosuke?

Dazai returned to the blackboard. Once again, the students sank into their books in silence. “Someone remind Atsushi what page we’re on. Otherwise, he’ll be lost in this magnificent masterpiece,” the teacher said.

He was right. Atsushi had no clue what page they were on, or even what book they were discussing. Seated to his right, Lucy leaned in and softly whispered the page number, trying to help the silver-haired boy.

Despite Osamu’s seemingly cheerful tone, a heavy tension lingered in the classroom. With a quiet breath, Nakajima opened the red book, carefully flipping through the pages in search of the right spot.

Ranpo doesn't go to libraries.

Or so he thought. After class, he dropped by his father’s office, hoping for a treat and the chance to finally head home. Instead, he was handed a stack of papers. Fukuzawa Yukichi, who held the position of Vice Principal, had asked him to deliver some reports to the librarian. Boring.

He had hoped for something more. After all, his deductive abilities were worthy of solving any criminal case.

If only some tragedy had occurred at the school, Ranpo might finally stand out from the crowd and get a little closer to his dream of becoming the world’s greatest detective.

Unfortunately, nothing interesting had happened. Today was as dull and uneventful as any other, except for the appearance of Atsushi. There was only one thing Ranpo could say about him: that boy was clearly born under an unlucky star.

As he walked down the empty hallway toward the library, carrying Fukuzawa's reports, Ranpo hummed a random tune to push back the oppressive silence.

The library doors were… massive. It made sense, this was a prestigious school, after all. Yet despite the modern, polished design that defined most of the campus, the library's entrance looked like it belonged to another era.

The towering wooden doors were intricately carved with ornate figures and flourishes that stretched high above, casting long shadows under the dim hallway lights. After taking a moment, Ranpo stepped inside.

The place was almost magical. Towering shelves stretched from floor to ceiling, packed tightly with books of every size and color. The air was filled with the scent of old paper and faint traces of wood polish.

At the center stood the librarian’s desk, a broad, dark wooden counter with carved edges. Its surface barely touched by the warm light filtering down from the chandeliers above.

There was no one behind the counter. Or so it seemed. Except… was that a tail sticking up?

Edogawa stepped closer and saw a raccoon. A very well-groomed one, pacing across the counter as if trying to entertain itself.

"Hello? Anyone here?" Ranpo called out. His voice echoed through the library.

Only then did he notice movement behind the desk. Leaning forward, the brunet spotted a man lying across two chairs. He seemed to be asleep, not that Ranpo cared.

"Well, well, well! Delivery from Fukuzawa!" Edogawa shouted, waking the presumed librarian.

The man slowly sat up and looked at the brunet. Or tried to — his thick, soft-looking bangs covered almost half his face. Silently, he extended a hand to receive the reports. Ranpo, understanding the gesture, handed them over.

But before the librarian could grab the papers, the raccoon, who had been quietly observing them all this time, suddenly lunged forward. In a flash, the reports were in its mouth.

Edogawa and the man with long bangs turned their heads in sync just in time to see the raccoon vanish behind the shelves.

"Karl!" the librarian shouted and immediately ran after the creature, desperate to rescue the papers.

"Now this is getting interesting!" Ranpo grinned, running toward the shelves from the opposite side. "Hey, you! Let’s make it a race! Whoever catches the raccoon first wins!" he yelled, hoping the librarian could hear him.

"W-What?!" echoed through the library.

Ranpo laughed at the man’s confused voice and kept running, peering between the shelves. A moment later, he spotted the man rushing around the far end of the bookcases, quickly catching up to him.

They both skidded to a stop, facing each other across a narrow path. On either side of them, towering shelves rose like walls of knowledge, packed with books that muffled every sound, making the moment feel suspended in time.

"I said let’s race! You’ll be up against the world’s greatest detective!"

"You mean... yourself?"

"Obviously!"

In response, Ranpo heard a heavy sigh. The librarian seemed to mutter something like, "Why me?" before raising his head and giving the young detective a reluctant nod.

Edogawa beamed. "Let’s begin!"

And with that, they went separate ways, trying to catch a glimpse of the raccoon with the precious papers.

"Karl! Come back!" Ranpo’s opponent called out, but the echo distorted his voice, making it hard to locate him.

"That won’t work! Unlike you, I can use my Ultra Deduction to find Karl!" the brunet shouted back, fully aware that his voice would carry to every corner of the library.

"Ultra what?"

Ranpo slowed, then came to a full stop. The scent of dust and solitude filled the air. Pressing a hand to his temple, he began to think.

Unfortunately, he was interrupted when the librarian, likely blinded by his bangs, didn’t notice Ranpo standing near the shelf and crashed right into him. Their faces showed a mix of shock and confusion.

The young detective fell backward. His back hit the floor with a dull thud, and a sharp jolt of pain shot through his shoulder, nothing serious, but definitely enough to make him wince. The man who had knocked him down caught himself with his arms, one on each side of Ranpo’s head, shielding him.

They both froze.

The man’s bangs dangled, allowing Edogawa a better look at his face.

He had rather intriguing features. Why does he hide them?

The raccoon's owner clearly felt awkward about their proximity and began to move away. Ranpo propped himself up on his elbows, but before the man could fully rise, he stopped him. With one hand, Edogawa grabbed the edge of the librarian's sleeve, while with the other he reached out, eyes locked on his face. Once again, confusion spread across the older man's face.

"You have a chocolate bar in your right pocket. Hand it over."

"E-Excuse me?"

"You heard me."

With his free hand, the man with long bangs slowly reached into his pocket, took out a chocolate bar, and, looking unsure, offered it to the boy in front of him.

Ranpo snatched it with a satisfied grin.

"Do you… act like this with everyone? Aren't you even a little bothered that I'm older than you?" the man asked as he stood up, watching Ranpo sit and unwrap the bar.

"You’re only two years older than me."

"What makes you think that—"

"Besides, stuff like that doesn’t really matter at this school."

Silence.

Clearly upset that no one was looking for him anymore, the raccoon peeked out from behind a bookshelf and ran up to them, still clutching papers in his mouth, clearly trying to get their attention.

Ranpo was the first to react, swiftly retrieving the documents.

"I win! You owe me another chocolate bar!"

"What?! That wasn’t part of the deal! And you already took mine!"

"Can’t hear you!" Ranpo said, attempting to cover his ears. But with a half-eaten bar in one hand and the papers in the other, he could only manage to press the backs of his wrists against his ears in a clumsy effort to block out the noise.

The librarian sighed again. Karl, the raccoon, climbed onto his shoulder.

"I have work to do." 

Ranpo caught the man's words and lowered his hands. With a grin, he handed over the now-wrinkled papers.

"Alright, Poe. Until next time! Oh, and maybe spend a little more time with your raccoon. He looks like he's going stir-crazy over here."

"How do you know my name?"

Ranpo stood, casually biting into a piece of chocolate. Then, he smirked and pointed at Poe’s chest. The librarian looked down and saw the black name tag pinned there, the letters gleaming: Edgar Allan Poe.

For some reason, the situation bruised his ego more than he'd like to admit.

Was this boy… mocking him?

However, by the time Edgar snapped back to reality, Ranpo was already leaving the library.

Chapter Text

"You know," he began, "today, Akutagawa nearly started a fight right in the middle of the hallway. Good thing I was nearby." He spoke into the phone, which he held wedged between his cheek and shoulder, while his hands were busy preparing dinner.

"Really? And who was the lucky soul he decided to pounce on?" came the voice on the other end.

Nakahara cracked an egg into the pan, greeted by the sharp hiss of hot oil. Covering it with a lid, he stepped over to the sink to rinse his hands. The mouthwatering scent of sautéed vegetables filled the room, making the redhead’s mouth water.

"It was that newcomer Mori mentioned to you just yesterday. By the way, when are you even planning on coming home?" he asked, annoyed by the fact that he didn’t want to eat alone.

"Ah, I see. I’ll be there soon, you know how it is, I had things to take care of."

"Bring some wine. I’ve got something to tell you."

"Oh? Got some juicy news? But tomorrow’s a workday, darling."

"God, don’t call me that, idiot."

In response, Chuuya was met only with Dazai’s bright laughter. Moments like these, when his husband’s chuckle echoed warmly through the line so freely, were rare. As the kettle whistled, Chuuya moved to the stove, brewed tea with lemon, and lingered there, listening for Osamu’s voice once the laughter faded.

He waited, expecting the brunet to speak. But the phone stayed silent, and the redhead still needed to set the table, something that wasn’t easy to do with a phone pressed to his ear.

"Anyway, just come home soon," he said, hanging up.

Returning home from school, Akutagawa had been trying to reach Gin for three hours. Their small apartment, not far from campus, was completely dark, another power outage.

There was nothing Ryuunosuke could do about it. They didn’t have enough to rent a new place, barely managing to scrape together money for basic necessities like clothes and food.

The only thing keeping them afloat was the small monthly allowance from the school, most likely offered out of Mori’s pity—one Akutagawa couldn’t bring himself to refuse.

For some reason, the dark-haired boy suspected the director deliberately sought out students with problems. Perhaps that was true, but now was not the time to dwell on it.

At last, his phone buzzed with a message. Heart pounding for his sister, Ryuunosuke snatched it up, only to see it was from Higuchi.

“Gin will be staying at my place tonight,” it read. Short, but enough.

With a sigh, Akutagawa turned on the flashlight on his phone. Rising from the sagging gray couch, knocking over a couple of pillows in the process, he headed to the fridge, hoping to find something edible. His stomach twisted, whether from worry or hunger, he couldn’t tell.

Unsurprisingly, the glass shelves were bare. With a soft thud, he closed the refrigerator door. A small calendar beside it marked the looming start of exams and the approach of the New Year.

Drawing in a slow breath, he slipped into his black coat and boots. Locking the door behind him, Ryuunosuke stepped out of his apartment into the dimly lit hallway, the faint echo of his footsteps following him down the stairs.

He emerged into the crisp night air and headed toward the nearest store, finally turning off the phone's flashlight.

The street was dim, hardly unusual for their neighborhood. The nearest streetlamp flickered erratically, and the shadowed alleys, blanketed in frost and echoing with the sharp bite of cold in the air, his breath visible with each exhale, inspired no confidence. Only the steady crunch of his footsteps broke the silence.

Akutagawa wandered into his thoughts, quietly turning over his plans. He needed to prepare for exams, and somehow mend things with his sister.

The chill wrapped around him like a thin veil, but his favorite coat, soft and worn from years of use, settled over his shoulders like a gentle shield, holding in a trace of warmth. It felt almost alive, as if the familiar fabric itself was protecting him from the cold night.

A wrong turn tugged him out of his thoughts, and by the time Akutagawa noticed, it was already too late. At the far end of the dead-end alley, three figures in black masks stood in a loose circle around a man slumped on the ground, his clothes soaked with blood. Their knives caught the moonlight as their heads turned toward the raven‑haired boy, eyes narrowing.

The bloodied man reached toward Ryuunosuke, silently pleading for help.

The sight twisted something in his chest, but getting involved with local gangs was the last thing he needed. He spun on his heel and ran.

Footsteps closed in behind him, quick and relentless. This was police work, nothing he should be tangled in, but the thought only made his pulse race faster.

Anger simmered under his skin. He tore through the narrow alley, coat flaring behind him, weaving beneath sagging roofs and the dim glow of flickering wall lamps, his boots striking the pavement in a steady, urgent rhythm.

Akutagawa nearly shook them off, but his breath caught, lungs burning. A sudden coughing fit bent him forward, sending him stumbling onto the asphalt. Pain spread through his chest.

Damn it, maybe it really was time to quit smoking.

Pushing himself back onto unsteady feet, he barely had a second before rough hands grabbed at him, eager to silence a witness. But Ryuunosuke wasn’t easy prey.

He blocked the first attacker’s wild punch and shoved him aside with a sharp strike that sent him stumbling. As the second man lunged in with a knife, Akutagawa twisted forward, wrenched the weapon from his grip, and drove it hard into his leg.

A sharp cry split the air.

The third assailant, likely their leader, moved with more precision, landing blows to Ryuunosuke’s gut and jaw. Pain flared, but adrenaline kept him standing. He swung back, catching the man off-balance and leaving him reeling.

A sudden noise from behind—he ducked just in time to avoid a blade aimed at him by the first attacker, who had tried to catch him off guard while raven-haired boy was distracted with the others.

The leader, watching how the dark‑haired boy slipped away from the strike, pulled out his own knife. Both men lunged at him together, forcing Ryuunosuke to twist and sidestep in a desperate bid to avoid their blades, while the third stayed sprawled on the ground, clutching his wounded leg and sobbing.

Their blades tore at his clothes, and a few cuts found flesh, warm blood seeping through.

Distracted and dismayed by the state of his beloved coat, Akutagawa’s focus slipped for a heartbeat. Stepping back to avoid another slash, he lost his balance and fell hard onto his hip. The leader raised his knife, but a streak of white webbing lashed out, knocking the weapon away.

“Three against one? Not exactly fair, but it seems he’s already managed to drop one of you,” a deep voice drawled.

They all turned toward the sound. There, hanging effortlessly upside down from a strand of web, heels neatly together, was Spider-Man.

The leader’s nerve failed and he spun to run, but a swift shot of webbing tangled around his legs and yanked him to the ground.

“Your turn,” Spider-Man called to the man still standing, his knife aimed at Akutagawa. “Gonna give up, or …?”

With a sharp cry, the masked thug, determined to take on the superhero, rushed forward, knife flashing in his grip. Moments later, all three lay trussed together on the cold asphalt, their masks tossed aside.

Ryuunosuke called the police, making sure to report the bleeding man in the alley who needed medical help.

When the call ended, pain and exhaustion settled in.

How irritating.

The white-suited figure approached, eyes locked on him. Raising his head, Akutagawa found himself staring into those mechanical “spider” eyes for the second time that day. A faint whir; the lenses shifted, showing surprise, then reset.

“You okay?” the hero asked.

“Yes,” Ryuunosuke muttered.

“I doubt it.”

“Thanks for the help, but I can manage on my own.” His tone was cold, avoiding that unwavering gaze.

Why did Spider-Man’s voice sound so deep, by the way?

The hero crouched in front of him, offering a hand.

“I said I don’t need your help.”

“Believe whatever you want.”

Ryuunosuke stayed silent. His body screamed for rest. And food.

Spider-Man helped him to his feet, slipping one of the boy’s arms over his shoulder while his other hand supported Ryuunosuke’s waist.

“Hands off,” Akutagawa growled.

He could swear the hero smirked.

“If you don’t like this, we can try another way.”

Before he could protest, Akutagawa was hoisted with ease and slung over the hero’s shoulder like a sack of potatoes. The sudden position left him acutely aware, and embarrassed, that his backside was now sticking out in front of the hero, an indignity that hardly matched the situation.

Did Spider-Man treat everyone like this?

“Got a death wish?” he barked, pushing against the hero’s back.

“Calm down, princess. Now, where do you live?”

“Don't call me that! And why is your voice so deep?!”

“Oh—right!” Spider-Man tapped the side of his neck, and his voice shifted smoothly. “Better?” he asked, now speaking in a light, feminine tone.

“...”

“Oops, wrong one. Hold on.” More clicks. “How about this?” A gentler male voice replaced the earlier low, growling tone.

Ryuunosuke wasn’t stupid; he could clearly tell that Spider-Man was using the altered voice to hide his real identity. Yet he wondered, why bother with a feminine tone when his well-built, muscular frame so plainly revealed his gender?

Pushing aside these strange thoughts about the superhero’s body, Akutagawa felt a surge of irritation at being so close to him, his teeth unconsciously grinding. Thankfully, the alley was otherwise empty, or so he thought.

“Don’t stare, guys,” Spider-Man said to the three bound thugs, whose faces radiated shock and confusion.

Ryuunosuke had never felt more humiliated.

He’d long since given up struggling against the hero’s grasp; he was too tired to fight, and Spider‑Man’s hold was too strong.

Akutagawa had nothing left to lose, so with a heavy sigh, he said, “Drop me off at the nearest store.”

Ryuunosuke couldn’t see the superhero’s face, but he felt him tense up, probably confused.

“At a store?…”

“Yes.”

“You sure?”

“Yes.”

“Do you live there or something?”

“Ye—Can you stop asking pointless questions?!” Akutagawa finally snapped.

“Whoa, whoa, alright. Easy, princess.”

“For God’s sake, stop calling me that!”

All he got in return was laughter.

Hearing the distant wail of sirens, Ryuunosuke instinctively lifted his head. In the glass windows across the street, he caught sight of blue and red lights flashing in rapid bursts, their glow rippling over the panes like restless waves.

“Put me down,” Akutagawa said, hoping not to be seen like this by the police.

Silence.

“Don’t ignore me, you jerk!”

But it was already too late. Doors swung open, sirens blared, footsteps and voices filled the air, most of which Ryuunosuke ignored thanks to his pounding headache. If the police or medics noticed Akutagawa, they chose to keep quiet.

God, just kill me.

The superhero, however, seemed to be enjoying himself. Turning his back to one of the medical workers, he told the dark-haired boy to lift his head.

“Hello! Could you tell me which block the man you described earlier is in?” she asked, trying to keep a professional face.

After all, right in front of her was the superhero’s perfectly toned backside, and hanging over his shoulder, a young man whose glare could kill.

What made it worse was that she had to lean down to see the Ryuunosuke’s face.

After quickly giving directions and getting a nod from the nurse, who then left with her team, the dark-haired boy began smacking the superhero’s back with all his strength.

“Idiot! Quit this circus already!”

“You’re right. They can handle it from here. By the way, you don’t happen to need medical attention, do you?”

“Oh my God…”

“Alright, alright, I get it,” the hero said, shooting out his web and taking off without warning his “passenger.” Akutagawa could only gasp in shock. He had nothing to hold on to, and soaring over rooftops didn’t feel all that fun to him.

Spider‑Man chuckled, though it seemed the hero had never in his life heard so many insults strung together, and they didn’t stop all the way to the store.

The one hurling them showed no restraint whatsoever; Ryuunosuke couldn’t care less that the widely known and respected hero was trying to help him, if this could even be called help at all.

Chapter Text

“No, stay here. I’ll go alone. I don’t want to be seen with you,” Akutagawa said as he limped toward the entrance of the small 24-hour shop. The feeling of solid ground beneath his feet was a relief after everything that had happened.

“Usually, people tell me the opposite…” the hero replied from behind.

Spider-Man watched the dark-haired man limp toward the door, his steps slow and unsteady. He looked pale, worn out, and still a little dazed from their fast, twisting journey through the city on web-lines. With a quiet sigh, the man in the white suit closed the distance and stepped in front of him, blocking the way inside.

“What are you doing?” Ryuunosuke asked under his breath.

“I’ll get what you need. You look terrible, it might scare the cashier.”

“God, you’re annoying.”

“Uh-huh. So what do you need?”

“Ramen noodles”

“…What?”

“You know, the quick, throw-it-in-hot-water kind.”

“...“

“What now?”

“Nothing. I’ll be right back,” the hero said, and walked into the store.

“I haven’t even given you the money yet,” Akutagawa muttered, but the man in the white suit didn’t even hear him.

“What’s wrong with this guy?” the dark-haired boy thought, before lowering himself to sit by the shop’s entrance. His whole body felt heavy, a cold ache lingering in his veins that made every muscle protest and each wound throb with the slightest move. Hunger made his stomach ache, and his eyelids grew heavy, ready to close.

Ten minutes passed. Still no sign of Spider-Man. Seriously, how long could it take to grab one pack of noodles?

Passersby slowed as their eyes fell on Ryuunosuke’s figure, their expressions flickering with curiosity or unease. But the moment they met his gaze, they looked away and hurried on, as if afraid to linger.

With a tired sigh, Akutagawa dug into his coat pocket and pulled out a cigarette and lighter. Maybe it would help him feel a bit more alive. His chest still remembered the sharp burn from when his lungs gave out while fleeing the criminals earlier. But he didn’t care.

He was halfway through his first drag when the shop door opened. Spider-Man stepped out, his eyes locking on the thin ribbon of smoke curling from Ryuunosuke’s lips.

Only when the hero came closer did Akutagawa notice the ridiculous number of grocery bags he was carrying, some holding vegetables and fruit, others packed with meat, and a few with drinks and milk.

“What’s this?”

“Food.”

“I can see that. But why?”

“It’s for you.”

Akutagawa’s surprise was obvious. This was the last thing he had expected. He started to protest, but the easy, unhurried way the superhero set the bags down and crouched beside him cut the words off before they left his lips.

For a moment, he froze, unsure what to say. This stranger was just… genuinely kind.

Spider-Man reached toward his face. Ryuunosuke’s eyes widened, uncertain of his next move.

“You should quit this habit,” the hero said, plucking the cigarette from his mouth. With a casual flick, he pressed it firmly to the ground to put it out, then sent it sailing into a nearby trash bin.

Irritation flared instantly. The raven-haired boy was sick of being lectured.

“Shut up. How do you even know it’s a habit? Maybe I just felt like trying one now,” he snapped, forgetting the man’s earlier kindness.

“I… well… I assumed,” the hero said quickly. “And I doubt someone who’s just trying cigarettes for the first time would pick ones with such a strong, bitter smell,” he added. However, his comment was brushed aside without acknowledgment.

“How much do I owe you?” Akutagawa asked suddenly, nodding toward the bags.

“What? Oh, no—you don’t owe me anything. I bought it because I wanted to,” Spider-Man said quickly, gesturing with his hands.

Akutagawa wanted to argue again, but the smell of food was making his head spin.

“So where do you live?”

“If you’re planning to use your webs again, I’ll kill you.”

The hero chuckled quietly at the mix of threat and fatigue in Ryuunosuke’s voice.

“This time, I’ll be careful.”

“No.”

“It’ll be faster.”

“Don’t you dare.”

Naturally, he ignored the protest. After fastening the bags together with webbing, Spider-Man scooped them up in one hand and slung Ryuunosuke over his shoulder with the other.

“Hold on,” he said simply, as they rose into the air.

Without question, it was the most miserable day of Akutagawa’s life, another bitter dose of humiliation.

Gin truly loved her brother, but his protectiveness seemed to grow stronger with each passing day. Sometimes, telling small lies was the only way she could feel free.

That’s why she was now at Tachihara’s apartment. Higuchi often covered for her, and she usually ended up staying over at her red-haired friend’s place. He lived alone, backed by the quiet support of his parents and brother, in a home that felt both airy and inviting.

After finishing another movie, Gin headed to the kitchen, which seemed larger than her entire apartment. Marble counters, tidy wooden cabinets, and soft, elegant curtains gave the room a warm charm.

She wasn’t after his money; they’d been friends since she first joined the elite school. He could be silly yet clever, confident, and dependable, never trying to control her like her brother did.

After finishing her glass of orange juice, she returned to the spacious living room. The lights were dimmer now, and Tachihara was by the speaker, fiddling with something.

“What are you doing?” she asked, sneaking up behind him.

He jumped, letting out a funny yelp, and Gin’s laughter echoed through the apartment.

“Don’t scare me like that! Seriously, stop laughing, you nearly gave me a heart attack!” he said, embarrassed.

Once her laughter subsided, Michizou pressed play, and the gentle strains of one of his favorite songs, Suddenly by Richard Marx, began to drift through the room.

“I was thinking… how about we dance?” he asked, his gaze drifting away. “You’ve seemed a little down tonight, and I thought it might lift your spirits.”

Surprised, Gin gave a small nod. His face brightened with a warm smile. He turned up the volume, gently took her hand, and guided her to the center of the room. A soft male voice began to sing the song’s opening lines.

It only took a moment

A solitary glance

And I could hear the voice of rapture call

They began a bit unsure, fingers loosely intertwined, but soon their movements found a playful rhythm. Gin made an unexpected move, making Michizou steady himself, and laughter, bright and unrestrained, filled the air.

I've loved you from a distance

Afraid to take a chance

But now it seems I can't help but to fall

Imagine my surprise

To open my eyes

And find that you were looking back

He paused with a teasing grin, then twirled her in every direction, catching her each time. They stumbled and wobbled, nearly toppling over, but none of it mattered. The moment felt light, warm, and almost unreal.

Yeah, suddenly

I'm no longer drifting on a empty sea

Now I know that I believe in destiny

And mine is waiting right here in your arms

When dizziness made Gin lose balance, Tachihara caught her by the waist. No one had ever touched her like that. Looking into his eyes, she didn’t know what came over her, maybe bottled-up emotions, maybe something she’d needed all along. She cupped his face and kissed him softly before pulling back.

They went still, the music fading into the background as all they noticed were their pounding hearts. Then Tachihara drew her in and kissed her in return.

For Gin, it felt like the most perfect moment of her life.

They touched down outside Akutagawa’s apartment. The boy had been guiding Spider-Man through the air the whole way, and now Ryuunosuke turned toward the hero. Moonlight clung to his suit, making it glow as if from within.

“I think I’ll help you carry these inside.”

“No.” He didn’t want the hero to see his tiny, shabby apartment, though the look of the building already said enough.

Accepting all those groceries had already left Ryuunosuke feeling uneasy. He hated relying on others, much less asking for help.

“But—”

“Don’t you have people to save or something?” he snapped.

Spider-Man froze, his hand halfway to the bags. Akutagawa felt he’d said something he shouldn’t have. The air grew tense.

“You’re right,” the hero said flatly. Without turning back, he shot his web and vanished into the night.

“Wow. Didn’t even say goodbye,” Ryuunosuke thought sarcastically, hefting the heavy bags toward home. He still needed to tend to his wounds, aching unbearably.

Climbing the stairs was exhausting, but worse was the knot of confusion inside: he couldn’t understand why the hero had reacted so sharply to his words.

The next morning, on his way to school, Atsushi’s thoughts kept drifting back to yesterday, to how he’d saved his classmate. It might’ve been the first time he’d genuinely enjoyed someone’s company, even if most of that time was spent teasing the raven‑haired boy, a lighthearted bit of payback for that ambush in the hallway.

But his smile faded when it hit him that Ryuunosuke’s life wasn’t easy, from what he ate to where he lived. He didn’t pity him, though; the guy was still a jerk with a terrible temper, as if Akutagawa disliked him just for breathing. Atsushi was used to that kind of treatment, but at least with Ryuunosuke, he could push back, unlike with his father.

“Don’t you have people to save or something?”

Nakajima knew he’d left his post yesterday simply because he’d been having a rare good time, stretching it out just to hold on to that feeling. It was selfish, and if anything had gone wrong, the blame would have been on him. He should have handed his classmate over to the medics and kept moving, but he didn’t.

That night, Atsushi hadn’t stopped even once to rest, determined to make up for his mistake. By morning, the effort showed, dark circles shadowed his eyes, and fatigue clung to every movement. His father hadn’t noticed his absence during the night, allowing him to make it to school without any trouble.

Today, he was finally set to receive his uniform, not directly from the literature teacher, but from Dazai’s office, just as Osamu had casually mentioned in the hallway. Oddly, the man’s smile had been even brighter than usual, in a way that felt more unnerving than reassuring.

In the dim classroom, a neatly folded school uniform rested on the teacher’s desk. Atsushi lifted the soft fabric, its fresh scent of laundry soap mingling faintly with the chalk‑dust air, and was about to head out when a flicker of white on the desk drew his attention, a small stack of old test papers, from before he’d joined the class. On top was Ryuunosuke’s, just 10 points out of 25. Atsushi’s brow furrowed. Why so low?

In Dazai’s red pen, each infraction was neatly itemized:

“–5 for being late to class”

“–3 for formatting classwork incorrectly”

“–2 for misusing a metaphor”

“–4 for a sentence mistake”

“–1 for giving a hostile look”

What the hell?

Other papers showed deductions of only 1 or 2 points for reasonable mistakes. Why so harsh with Akutagawa?

A memory from yesterday flickered, the sharp glare Ryuunosuke had given when Dazai docked Atsushi just a single point for being on his phone. Now it clicked. Maybe it had hurt the dark‑haired boy more than he had imagined. Nakajima found himself wondering, if their roles were reversed, how many points Dazai might have taken from Akutagawa.

His thoughts broke off at the sound of footsteps in the hallway, more and more students were streaming through the corridors now, a sure sign that class would start any minute. He still needed to change in the locker room near the gym on the first floor and race to the physics classroom on the third.

Realizing he was out of time, Nakajima hurried out of the office.

Chuuya slept through the entire physics lesson. Well, not right away, at first, looking like a total zombie, he handed out sheets with assignments, told them to finish the work, promising he’d check it later. Then, with the sluggish heaviness of someone who hadn’t slept in days, the teacher slouched over to his desk, stretched out across it, and within moments was breathing in the slow, steady rhythm of deep sleep.

At first, everyone actually worked on the tasks. But once even Ranpo’s loud sneeze failed to wake the teacher, the room turned into a quiet chatter of conversations.

Atsushi’s gaze wandered to Ryuunosuke, who was once again sitting by the window, staring out at the schoolyard.

It looked like he’d taken care of his injuries. Still, Nakajima wasn’t sure, apart from the swollen chin, everything else was hidden under the dark school uniform. His movements were more restrained than usual, which probably meant he was still in pain.

The silver-haired boy had taken quite a beating himself yesterday. His last mission had been chasing a car full of illegal goods, but exhaustion had slowed him down. At a sharp turn, he missed his chance to hook onto a building with his web and instead slammed hard onto another vehicle. The impact jolted pain through his whole body. His endurance was better than most, but it didn’t spare him from having to lock himself in the bathroom at home later to patch up the damage. Ugly bruises covered him, though at least his suit had kept the flying glass from slicing his skin.

Hardly anyone said anything about how Akutagawa looked. But several people did ask about Atsushi’s condition. Did he really look that bad? His face hadn’t taken much damage, but the exhaustion written all over him seemed enough to worry his classmates.

Nakajima was glad that school uniform covered his bruises.

“Atsushi!”

Lucy’s sharp voice pulled the white-haired boy back to reality.

“What?”

“Stop staring at Akutagawa, you didn’t even hear me calling you!”

“Wha—I wasn’t staring at him! I was looking out the window, okay?!”

“I heard you two fought yesterday. Were you thinking about how you’re gonna kick his ass?” she asked, ignoring Atsushi’s attempt to defend himself.

“I wasn’t staring at him! Let alone thinking about him! I was just… lost in thought, and my eyes stopped functioning,” the boy said, catching the unimpressed look on her face. “If I looked at him too long, my eyes would probably burn from how awful he looks!” Nakajima shot back.

“Oh, so you two are like… enemies? Is he hitting on your girlfriend?” Lucy pressed.

“Wait. Why would you think I have a girlfriend?”

“Well, yesterday Dazai, right in front of the entire class, asked you if you were texting your girlfriend, and you immediately hid your phone. So I figured.”

While Atsushi was still processing what she’d said, he noticed several of his new friends listening in on their conversation.

“Oh my god, no! I don’t have a girlfriend!”

“Got it!” Lucy said cheerfully before immediately turning to Kyōka. The two girls started whispering. Then, at one point, Kyōka glanced at Ranpo.

“He’s not lying, is he?” she asked.

“He’s telling the truth,” the brunette replied while opening a bag of chips.

“You’re serious?!” Atsushi asked loudly, shocked they were using Ranpo’s skills for something like this.

“Here,” Junichiro said, handing Kenji some money.

“Haha! My instincts never fail!” Kenji grinned. “Now I can buy treats for my cow.”

“You were betting on me?!” Atsushi shouted again, even more shocked.

What was wrong with these people?

“Don’t worry. It’s normal in our class,” Higuchi explained.

The silver-haired boy could only sigh heavily.

During the break, everyone headed to their lockers at the end of the hallway. It was probably a hassle for them to climb up to the third floor every morning just to grab their things.

“Atsushi, where’s your locker?” Kyōka suddenly asked.

Crap. He’d completely forgotten to ask Dazai about that.

“I’m… not sure.”

“It’s right near ours. I spotted it this morning,” Tachihara called from behind, with Gin strolling quietly at his side.

“Really?!” Nakajima’s voice brightened.

He got a confirming nod.

When they reached the lockers, Tachihara pointed to the last one by the window.

The white-haired boy walked over and found his name neatly printed on a small label fixed to the metal door.

He opened the locker, just a little taller than he was, set his bag in front of it, and began arranging his things until the small space felt lived-in.

As he sifted through his bag, movement caught his eye. Someone stepped up to the locker beside his, and when Atsushi glanced up, he found himself staring into a pair of all-too-familiar eyes, brimming with disdain.

Akutagawa. Of course it had to be Akutagawa. Great.

The dark-haired boy grabbed what he needed, slammed the locker door shut with a metallic thud, and left without a word. Nakajima quietly closed his own locker, watching the dark figure walk away.

Gin only went to her own locker, right next to her brother’s, after Ryuunosuke had left. Atsushi thought she might be avoiding him. Maybe she was. It seemed strange, though; they were family, after all. Still, don’t brothers and sisters bicker all the time? Maybe it wasn’t anything unusual.

A shadowed figure glided soundlessly through the lab’s dim corridors, where distant screams ricocheted off the walls and the sharp scent of blood seemed to seep into every breath.

Crossing the threshold into a control room lit only by the glow of towering screens, he was met with a voice from the man seated there, who didn’t bother to turn.

"Did you bring what I asked for?"

"Yes," the newcomer said, their voice low but edged with caution. "But I need to know what I’m getting in return. If this gets out, it could destroy my career."

The man at the screens gave a slow, dangerous chuckle. "What will really destroy your career is the truth, that you’ve been hiding your son. Shall I let the world in on your little secret?"

A heavy breath escaped the figure at the doorway, fear flickering in their eyes. Without another word, he turned away, murmuring a short, defeated, "I’ll do it."

Chapter Text

During lunch, Ranpo made his way to the library, carrying a few snacks and drinks, sure that Poe hadn’t eaten yet.

Inside, the same peaceful silence lingered. Edgar was probably dozing off again, and Karl was nowhere to be seen. Ranpo couldn’t help but wonder what sort of deal Mori had made to let the man keep a raccoon on school grounds.

Of course, Edogawa could’ve figured it out in no time, but he didn’t really care. What mattered was waking the librarian. As Ranpo reached the front desk, he spotted a stack of handwritten pages and Poe, stretched out across two chairs in deep sleep. Nearby, Karl sat happily tugging at Poe’s already messy hair, twisting it into even tighter knots.

For some reason, Ranpo didn’t want to wake Edgar immediately. He looked too peaceful. Instead, the young detective picked up the stack of pages and, to his delight, found they belonged to a detective novel. Gathering the numbered sheets, he fetched a chair from the far end of the library, since the ones nearby were taken by Edgar, and sat beside the desk. Soon, he was lost in the story, while Karl ran around the room looking for something to keep himself busy.

After a while, Poe stirred. The first thing he saw was his hair, now looking even messier than usual. He stretched lazily, only to hear a familiar voice beside him.

"The killer is the pilot," Ranpo declared.

Edgar froze, startled, not only by Ranpo’s sudden appearance in the library, but by the fact he’d solved the mystery of his unfinished manuscript so quickly.

"Not bad," the young detective said with a small grin. "But it wasn’t too hard to figure out. Was this your work?"

"…Yes."

"You’ve got talent. Write another one. I haven’t had this much fun solving a case in a long time."

"O-Okay," Poe managed.

"By the way, I brought you something to eat!"

"Why?"

"So we can eat together. And then for dessert, you can give me that chocolate bar you promised me, the one you hid under the desk," Ranpo said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Realizing there was no point in arguing, Poe accepted the soda the boy handed him.

"Thanks."

"No problem," the brunette replied, moving over from his spot and sitting at the desk beside the librarian.

They ate in comfortable silence, occasionally tossing remarks and riddles back and forth, each one solved by Ranpo in a heartbeat. To Poe’s surprise, he was enjoying himself. For the first time in a long while, his dull routine felt warmer and a little brighter. He had never met anyone with abilities, or a presence, quite like Ranpo’s.

They were in the middle of chatting about why Edgar had chosen to become a librarian when the library doors opened with a long, slow creak. Their conversation stopped. Both men looked toward the young woman walking toward them.

"My father wanted me to let you know you’ll be in charge of printing the winter exams," said Elise, principle Mori’s daughter, dressed in a bright pink skirt and matching top. She pointed directly at Poe, who immediately felt awkward under her gaze. He usually kept to himself at school, speaking only to the principal and a few teachers, at least until Ranpo appeared.

"Something about each teacher sending in their tests, and so on…" the blonde continued, her loud voice carrying easily through the quiet library. Closing the gap to just a few inches from Poe, Elise softened her tone as she approached the desk. Her gaze traced his face, slid over his uniform, and finally came to rest on the name tag pinned to his chest.

"Edgar, wouldn’t you like to take a walk with me after school? You’re actually quite cute," the girl said with a sly smile.

Ranpo saw through her scheme instantly—Elise’s charm was nothing more than an attempt to sweet-talk her way into getting the exam papers and cheat. Still, he was sure Poe wouldn’t fall for it.

"Uh… I…" the librarian stammered.

Damn. He had absolutely no social skills, especially when it came to girls, and that was obvious just by looking at him.

Ranpo’s irritation grew as she reached out to brush a strand of hair from Edgar’s face, tilting her head to get a better look at him.

The blonde put on a surprised look.

"Wow, you’re even more handsome than I thought!"

Ranpo had had enough of being ignored. He brought his hand down hard on the desk with a sharp thud, startling them both.

"Keep your hands off him," he said sharply, pushing her hand away. "He’s not giving you the exams, so don’t even think about it, unless you want your father to hear every detail," he warned.

For the first time, Elise seemed to notice his presence. Narrowing her eyes, she gave him a hard look.

"What are you talking about? My interest in Edgar has nothing to do with the exams," she said, her voice dripping with feigned innocence.

Ranpo was ready to break apart her plan, piece by piece. With his sharpest deduction, he could lay bare every secret she was keeping.

But before he could speak, Poe stepped in, lowering his head and saying calmly, "I’ll handle the Mori’s request. Thank you. You can go now."

Edgar wanted this to end quickly, before Ranpo got dragged into trouble because of him.

Clearly offended, Elise shot both boys a sharp, angry look, her gaze lingering on the young detective. Muttering something under her breath, the blonde turned on her heel and left, making sure to slam the library’s heavy doors as loudly as she could.

Once she was gone, the two finally let themselves breathe again.

The rest of the day went on as usual, except for one strange thing: Atsushi seemed to have gained a few fans.

Let’s start from the beginning.

In gym class, Nakajima was handed the school’s sports uniform. The silver-haired boy lingered outside the locker room, planning to change last. If anyone saw the bruises and bandages on his body, it would only raise questions.

As he waited, Akutagawa passed by, giving him a look of pure disgust.

“The girls’ locker room is the other way,” he muttered before disappearing inside.

Nakajima didn’t even get a chance to think of a comeback.

However, recalling how he had teased Ryuunosuke just yesterday made him feel a little better, even if the dark-haired boy didn’t know that Spider-Man and Atsushi were the same person.

His classmates, already changed, asked why he wasn’t coming in, but Atsushi simply said he was too shy to change in front of everyone.

The boy stood in the dim hallway. Down the corridor, a group of girls chatted, ready for a tough training session with Chuuya. After a good rest, the teacher seemed recovered and eager to push his students to their limits.

It wasn’t exactly shocking that Akutagawa came out last. He clearly didn’t want anyone catching a glimpse of the scars on his arms and legs.

“You could’ve just gone into the locker room bathroom and changed there, idiot,” the dark-haired boy said with a teasing smirk.

Damn. He’s right.

Anyway. When Atsushi put on the dark blue uniform with white patterns, he immediately regretted it. Luckily, it was the winter version, covering him completely. But it was insanely tight—seriously. The whole lesson, girls stared at him. Even some of the boys.

What did he expect? Being a hero meant being strong, and his toned body, now on display, was bound to draw attention. It made him incredibly self-conscious. In the Spider-Man suit, no one saw his face, and he never felt shy about his strength or flexibility. But now? He wanted to sink into the floor.

He even caught a surprised look from Akutagawa, though the other boy matched him in height and was also quite strong. Nakajima might have looked a bit more muscular, but that was only because he was constantly protecting the city, nothing special.

What he didn’t realize was just how quickly rumors could spread. That afternoon, when classes ended, Atsushi opened his locker and found it crammed with letters, confessions of love and admiration from people he barely even knew. Some gushed about his physique, others about his "cute face" and how it was supposedly "love at first sight."

It was literally his second day here…

And of course, who else would be nearby when the letters came spilling out of the locker but Ryuunosuke? The silver-haired boy had to awkwardly gather the paper-cut hearts right in front of that jerk. At this rate, he was going to get used to that permanent look of disgust on Akutagawa’s face.

The problem was, Nakajima didn’t want any of this. It would only make things more complicated. If something happened in the city, he would need to disappear without drawing attention, but with everyone watching him, that would be impossible.

How exhausting.

The cherry on top came when the principle called him into his office. Atsushi worried he’d done something wrong, but it turned out the man simply needed his phone number for some student records.

Unfortunately, his daughter Elise, who was sitting nearby and complaining about some boy in the library, snatched the paper with Atsushi’s number and casually entered it into her own phone, like it was no big deal.

Was she going to give it to all those fangirls? Oh, no…

A grand chandelier hung in the middle of the room, casting a warm golden glow over the sweeping staircase to the second floor and the carefully arranged furniture, each piece handcrafted by the finest artisans. Yet, despite its elegance, Atsushi hated his home. It reflected his father’s lofty status, rich and showy, but felt hollow and lifeless, as if it shared the emptiness of the man’s heart.

Silence.

Nakajima carefully made his way up to his room on the second floor.

What he didn’t expect was to see his father sitting on his bed.

“You’re late,” the man said, clearly irritated.

Atsushi stayed quiet. After so many years of suffering, he had learned that keeping quiet was the easiest way to steer clear of trouble he didn’t want.

“I’ll be leaving for several days, maybe weeks. Don’t contact me, and don’t leave the house unless necessary,” his father said, standing and walking toward him.

The silver-haired boy tensed and stepped aside to let him pass. A small flicker of happiness stirred inside him. Could he really feel free, even for a little while?

Atsushi’s thoughts were cut short by a sharp sting on his cheek. His father had slapped him, hard.

“Do you understand me, you ignorant fool?” he barked, shouting right into Atsushi’s ear.

“Yes,” the boy replied quietly.

Another slap. His cheek burned.

“I can’t hear you.”

“Yes,” he repeated louder.

“Don’t you dare do anything stupid,” his father said before leaving the room.

Footsteps, then the loud slam of the front door.

He’s gone. He’s gone. You should be happy. He’s gone.

Atsushi still stood frozen in place, emotions tangled, his body begging for rest.

He’s gone. He’s gone. Come on. Why aren’t you happy?

Tears rolled down his cheeks.

I’m so tired.

Slowly, Nakajima made his way to the bed and let himself collapse onto it. As soon as his head touched the pillow, the dull throb in his cheek still lingering, he quickly drifted into sleep.

The ping of phone notifications woke him up. Glancing at the screen, he saw that four hours had slipped by. A wave of guilt washed over him, he was meant to be out patrolling, not dozing off. If he kept this up, it could turn into a dangerous habit he couldn’t afford.

Another notification.

The silver-haired boy decided to check his messages before heading out. He was added to all the class group chats with the teachers. A few unknown numbers tried to get his attention with compliments, and only one chat kept the conversation going.

Eternal Prison

Unknown: Yes!!! Isn’t that weird?

Unknown: Depends on your perspective.

Unknown: By the way, did anyone do the math homework?

Unknown: Wait, I have important news.

Me: What’s going on here?

Unknown: Atsushi, you’re finally online!

Unknown: This is our class group.

Now it made sense. Mori must have passed his number to the teachers, after which it quickly found its way to his classmates. So all those love messages from strangers were clearly Elise’s doing.

Me: Guys, could you send me your names so I can save them?

One by one, everyone replied with their names, except one. Akutagawa seemed to be offline or just preferred not to speak. Nakajima had already guessed who he was by checking the group’s member list. Who even sets a black background as their profile picture? By contrast, Atsushi had a cute tiger cub as his.

Lucy: So! Turns out Dazai is married!!

Tachihara: I told you!

Kyōka: Really? Who’s she?

Ranpo: Actually, he.

A flood of shocked emojis followed. Even Nakajima hadn’t expected that news.

Shutting off his phone, he headed to the bathroom to freshen up. The air was cool and faintly scented with lavender soap. Smooth marble tiles, pale as winter clouds, stretched beneath his feet, while gilded cabinets gleamed under the soft light. A massive mirror loomed over the sink, reflecting his face, tired eyes, a swollen cheek, and hair tousled in every direction.

Meanwhile, the chat continued.

Naomi: Any guesses?

Higuchi: I think it’s someone from our school.

Lucy: Yeah, me too.

Kyōka: Dazai chats with pretty much every teacher, so guessing is tricky.

Tachihara: That’s why we’ll investigate!

Ranpo: Want me to just tell you?

Kenji: No! Let us figure it out ourselves!

Gin: Yeah, that would be more fun.

Junichiro: Should we make bets?

When Atsushi stepped out of the bathroom, he took a long, slow stretch, feeling his stiff shoulders loosen. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small disk, tapped its center, and in a heartbeat his clothes dissolved into shimmering light, reforming into the snug lines of his nanosuit.

Nakajima grabbed his phone, quickly blocking every number that had sent him flirty messages before scrolling through the latest group texts. Without overthinking it, he swung a leg over the windowsill and leapt out, firing a web that caught on the nearest building.

Lucy: By the way, did you see how many fans Atsushi’s got now???

Tachihara: Not surprising. I think everyone saw him during training.

Junichiro: Exactly. Atsushi, so what sport are you into?

Kenji: Full of mysteries. I’ve heard city girls love guys like that.

Naomi: I think it’s his cute face.

Me: Guys, can we change the topic? I’m not really comfortable with all this attention.

Lucy: Oh, come on! Don’t be shy.

Tachihara: Being popular is amazing!

Higuchi: Not everyone thinks like you.

Tachihara: True. You like the quiet, mysterious type, right? ;)

Lucy: Whoa.

Kyōka: Hey, everyone’s got their own taste, no judging.

Higuchi: Thanks?…

Atsushi skimmed through the chat, swinging easily from one building to the next. The banter made him smile, but the word “love” still felt like a mystery he’d never solved. Nakajima wasn’t even sure he was capable of such a thing. Still, he had a hunch, was Higuchi in love with… Akutagawa? That jerk?

Glancing around, Atsushi realized he was near the store he’d once visited with the dark-haired boy. Curious about what Ryuunosuke was up to and why he’d been so quiet in the chat, the hero, on a sudden impulse, headed toward his house, telling himself he’d just take a quick look before resuming his patrol.

For nearly five minutes, Atsushi just sat there, watching Akutagawa move around the kitchen, preparing his dinner. He didn’t know why he couldn’t look away. From the roof of the neighboring building, the boy’s window was the only one lit, glowing softly with warm yellow light.

His classmate looked calm, almost peaceful, in a gray T-shirt and loose black pants. His home felt so cozy compared to the white-haired boy’s house. The hero wished he could go inside.

After finishing cooking, Ryuunosuke opened the window, letting in a burst of cold air that made him shiver. He lit a cigarette and took a slow drag, then pulled out his phone and began scrolling. Nakajima guessed he was probably checking the chat.

Luckily, there was no insect screen covering the window. Atsushi climbed onto the roof, then slowly worked his way down the wall.

A second later, he startled the dark-haired boy, snatching the cigarette from his lips in one swift motion and nearly scaring him to death.

“Boo!” said Spider-Man, hanging upside down.

“Holy shit!” Akutagawa yelped, jerking away from the window. “What the hell are you doing here?!”

Chapter Text

“Whoa, easy there! What about your neighbors?” Spider-Man shot back at Akutagawa’s sudden yell.

He still had the dark-haired man’s cigarette between his fingers.

“Get out!” Ryuunosuke snapped again, stepping up to the window and slipping his phone back into his pocket.

It was a funny sight — after all, Atsushi was looking at his face upside down.

Akutagawa didn’t want him to see this pathetic place, and he was even more confused about why he was here at all.

Was his home about to be robbed? Why else would Spider-Man show up?

“Come on, it’s actually pretty cozy in here. Mind if I come in?” the man in the suit kept talking.

Shock was written plainly across Akutagawa’s face.

“What did you just say?”

“Uh… mind if I come in?”

“No, I meant before that.”

“I said it’s kind of nice and cozy in here.”

Did he really mean that? Or was the hero just messing with him again?

“I can practically see the loading bar in your head. It’s hilarious,” Spider-Man said with a laugh.

“Get out,” the dark-haired man warned again.

“Hey, hey! I’m serious! Can I come in?”

Ryuunosuke didn’t know what to do. Why was this happening to him of all people?

But the way the hero kept looking at him through those those dark, “spidery” eyes made him hesitate. Only a few hours ago, he had finally managed to speak with Gin, and somehow, everything had ended up even worse than before.

Akutagawa took a deep breath and finally made up his mind. He was thankful to the hero for saving him yesterday, but his attitude was still annoying.

“You can come in, but only if you give me back my cigarette,” he said. Ryuunosuke knew it might be a mistake, but there was no turning back now.

“What? Seriously?”

“Yes.”

“Come on… that’s no fun.”

“Your choice. Or you can leave,” the apartment owner said, stepping back and turning away from Spider-Man.

The hero stayed silent for a few seconds before finally flipping himself over, climbing onto Akutagawa’s windowsill, and stepping inside.

Ryuunosuke turned to see the uninvited guest standing just a meter away, holding out his cigarette. Relieved that it was still intact, Akutagawa took it, accidentally brushing his fingers against the hero’s cold suit. He took a drag right in the middle of the kitchen.

“Won’t your food get poisoned by all this smoke?”

“That’s none of your business.”

The quiet of the apartment was broken when both of their phones buzzed with incoming messages at the same time.

Akutagawa knew his classmates were still chatting… but who could be texting Spider-Man?

“Damn,” Atsushi thought, pulling his phone from his nanotech suit in an instant and muting the notifications.

But from Ryuunosuke’s point of view, it looked as if the hero had hurried to reply to some urgent message.

“Something important?” the smoking man asked.

“Huh? No, no, nothing like that!”

“So… why are you here?”

“Just wanted to check how you’re doing,” Nakajima made up on the spot.

Akutagawa stared at him in silence, unsure how to respond to something like that. Instead, he simply pulled his own phone out of his pocket and scrolled through his recent messages.

Eternal Prison

Lucy: Yes, love is a wonderful thing. Congratulations, you two!

Tachihara: Thanks, everyone!

Ranpo: Took you long enough.

Naomi: Ranpo, not everyone’s a genius. For us, this really is shocking news!

Damn. They were officially a couple now. Akutagawa was furious.

“Something wrong?” Spider-Man asked, puzzled by the sudden change in Akutagawa’s expression.

“Had a fight with my sister. She’s staging a little rebellion. Doesn’t matter,” the boy replied irritably, setting his phone down on the table and finally sitting to eat the meal he had cooked.

“So that’s how it is… What do you mean by ‘rebellion’?”

“She’s not gonna live with me anymore. Came over, packed her stuff, said she’s got a boyfriend. That’s it,” Ryuunosuke said quickly, eating his soup and taking a slow drag after each spoonful, letting white smoke curl through the room before it gradually faded away.

“Look, I get that this might’ve shocked or upset you,” Atsushi said uncertainly, “but what you’re doing right now is definitely bad for your health.”

“Higher.”

“Wh… what?”

“Your voice. It’s higher than it was before.”

“Are you trying to change the subject?”

“No.”

“Then just stop smoking already! Don’t you care about your lungs?”

“Have you ever tried it?”

“Me? Of course not!”

“Then you wouldn’t understand.”

“And what exactly am I supposed to understand?”

“It helps me deal with stress.”

“How can that possibly help with stress?”

Akutagawa finally finished his soup and began slowly sipping his tea.

Atsushi stood nearby, watching, just waiting for him to be done.

Another slow sip.

Unable to stand the silence any longer, Nakajima let his eyes wander around the kitchen. It was small, yet full of life — wooden cabinets, a table with two chairs, a tiny stove, and, in the corner, a spotless white fridge. Beside it hung a calendar and a few scattered photographs.

“Try it.”

Snapping back to reality, Spider-Man looked at Akutagawa, who was holding out his cigarette.

“No, no, no! I don’t need that!”

“Don’t you ever want to just forget everything for a while?”

“Yeah… sometimes.”

His pale, slender hand still held the cigarette out to him.

“And how am I supposed to do that? I’m wearing a mask.”

“Can’t you open just part of it?”

“Well… in theory, yeah. I’ve just never done it before.”

“I’m not in the mood to yell at you for being an idiot right now.”

“Alright, alright. Consider it done, sir!” the hero said, raising his hand to his forehead in an exaggerated salute.

A soft chuckle answered him.

Akutagawa… laughed? He could actually do that?

“Hurry up, idiot. My arm’s going numb.”

Atsushi blinked, snapping back to reality.

“Oh—right. One sec,” he said, pressing what he thought were the right controls near his neck.

But instead of revealing his mouth, the nanotech parted at his stomach, his bare stomach. Apparently, when he’d transformed earlier, his shirt had ridden up a little, and he hadn’t noticed.

The reaction was instant.

“What the hell are you doing?!” Ryuunosuke barked, turning away, but not before catching a glimpse of the hero’s skin, a sickly purple and mottled with bruises.

Flustered, Atsushi sealed the suit back up in a hurry and stepped back.

“I—It was an accident!”

“Yeah, I can tell it was an accident!” Akutagawa snapped, still facing the wall.

An awkward silence filled the room.

“Look… you seem okay. So I guess I should go. I’ve stayed long enough,” Spider-Man said quietly.

“Does it hurt?” the dark-haired man asked suddenly, the unlit cigarette still resting between his fingers. The raven-haired boy hadn’t even noticed it had gone out.

“What?”

“Your bruises.”

No one had ever worried about him like that before. Atsushi could hear the uncertainty and concern in Ryuunosuke’s voice.

“I’m fine,” the hero said, glancing down at his now-covered stomach. When he looked back up, Akutagawa was already watching him.

And damn… those eyes. There was a whole storm of emotions in them. To Nakajima, they were like a foggy night lit with something almost magical.

“I see,” Ryuunosuke said, turning his gaze away.

“Well, I’ll be going then.” With that, Spider-Man stepped up to the window, placing both feet on the sill. “And one more thing—give your sister some freedom. I think if someone locked you in a cage, you’d want to fly away too.” The words left his mouth as he prepared to get back to patrol.

“And have you gotten out of your cage?” came Akutagawa’s voice from behind.

“No,” the hero replied quietly, stepping out into the night and leaving the warm comfort of the apartment behind.

“And once again, I let myself relax… let myself forget everything,“ Atsushi thought as he moved through the city. “Is this what you feel when you smoke, Ryuunosuke?“ he wondered, though of course, he had no answer.

Returning home at dawn, Atsushi immediately put on his school uniform and headed out. He hadn’t slept a moment, his thoughts kept him restless all night. The only time his mind went quiet was when Nakajima was pounding some criminal into the ground.

He didn’t understand what was happening to him. His suit was splattered with blood. The silver-haired boy hadn’t stopped when he should have, and someone could have died by his hands.

Nakajima was meant to save people. He was supposed to be a hero. Heroes don’t kill.

The guilt clung to him, eating him alive. Damn it. And yet he kept hitting that robber, blow after blow, his fury fueled by self-loathing.

Hidden beneath his Spider-Man costume, Atsushi whispered to himself again and again, “I hate you. I hate you. I hate you.”

Thankfully, the wail of police sirens snapped him out of it, and he left the scene as fast as he could. The criminal gasped for air in the alley. He was alive. That was enough. If not, Nakajima would have destroyed the perfect image of a superhero. Destroyed everything. Just like he always did.

On the way to school, he vented his frustration by punching holes into the walls of a few abandoned buildings. By the end, his hands were raw and red, but the pain drove him on, giving him strength. After all, the new school day was just starting.

By the time the silver-haired boy climbed to the third floor, he reached his locker and found Akutagawa hanging his jacket inside, sorting through textbooks. In the past, Atsushi had to cram his jacket into his bag, a constant hassle. Now, at least, he had space to leave it in the locker.

As soon as Atsushi approached, Ryuunosuke let out a heavy breath.

“I wouldn’t open that locker if I were you,” said the dark-haired boy.

“What do you mean?” Atsushi asked, but his flushed hand had already swung the metal door open.

A huge pile of letters and chocolates spilled onto the floor. Among them was a small bag of cookies, now broken into tiny pieces.

“I told you, idiot.”

“Why do they even open my locker?” Nakajima complained.

“It’s against school rules to steal, so no one will touch your pathetic things.”

“Why are you so angry this morning?”

Ryuunosuke glanced away, then back at Atsushi. There wasn’t a hint of emotion in his eyes.

From the corner, the girls kept peeking at the two boys.

“I don’t want your fans thinking we’re friends, freak,” he said, turning his back on the white-haired boy. He walked away, making sure to slam his locker door shut.

But Atsushi wasn’t ready to let it go. He couldn’t quiet his thoughts.

How could this jerk look at him like that, when just yesterday his eyes had shown concern? It drove Nakajima crazy. Couldn’t he like him for who he really was? Would his true self never be accepted? Did everyone only care about Spider-Man?

Even all those fans didn’t really know him. They only cared about his looks. None of his classmates knew the real him. No one tried to see deeper, to glimpse his scarred soul.

Did Atsushi really have to wear the white suit just to have a normal conversation with Akutagawa?

“You’re such a jerk! Do you think being rude and avoiding everyone makes you look cool? You probably don’t even have real friends! Who’d want to talk to someone like you after all?!” the boy yelled after him. Somehow, it felt like he was yelling at himself.

Ryuunosuke stopped and stayed silent. The girls who had been watching Atsushi quickly ran off, seemingly disappointed by his behavior. Everyone passing by tried to ignore the boys, not wanting to get involved in a fight.

“You don’t get it! Everyone’s drawn to you, and you don’t even try! You got popular, and now you think you can look down on everyone?” Ryuunosuke shouted, clenching his jaw.

“I don’t give a damn about that popularity!” Nakajima shot back.

“What does that have to do with me anyway?!”

“Go to hell! What did I even do for you to hate me so much?”

“You just piss me off! Need another reason?”

Their voices echoed down the entire hallway.

“Oh my God, you two are literally me and Dazai when we were your age,” said a familiar voice—their physics teacher.

He was striding toward them, clearly annoyed by the noise since early morning. Both boys stopped their argument instantly.

Dazai walked right behind Chuuya.

“Well, well. An interesting scene. I think such behavior deserves a punishment,” Osamu said, a sly smile on his face.

Ryuunosuke and Nakajima could only watch the teacher, waiting for his next words.

“We’re starting today!” the man said in a menacing voice.

“But it’s just a prototype! Everything could go wrong…” the scientist replied, his voice calm yet tinged with nervousness.

“We only need to distract him. Any prototype will do. You’ve got a couple of hours,” the man said sharply, striding out of the laboratory.

The scientist could do nothing but keep working.

Chapter Text

What could possibly make this day worse?

The fact that Dazai had made them clean the gym after classes. Alone.

When Atsushi heard about the punishment, he felt uneasy. Spending time alone with Akutagawa, fully aware that he hated Nakajima? Brutal. Osamu knew exactly what he was doing.

For the rest of the day, they ignored each other’s presence.

Atsushi tried to distract himself with other things like watching the news, chatting with classmates, or simply observing what was going on around him.

He’d noticed Gin and Tachihara had gotten more touchy with each other. Akutagawa was probably fuming inside, though really, what could he do?

It was also funny hearing his classmates’ wild theories about Dazai’s husband. Some of them were so ridiculous they made Atsushi want to laugh. He didn’t know the answer himself, but clearly, everyone else was having a great time speculating.

When the final bell rang, Nakajima didn’t go home. Instead, he headed for the gym. The silver-haired boy didn’t want to ruin his uniform, but he wasn’t about to change into sportswear either.

So, he pulled a mop and bucket out of the storage closet and started scrubbing the floors. Water sloshed, and the faint squeak of the mop echoed through the empty room. Five minutes later, Ryuunosuke appeared, grabbed his own cleaning supplies without a word, and got straight to work. The silence between them was heavy, but neither broke it.

Chuuya had said he would personally check their work the next morning, so leaving early was out of the question.

About fifteen minutes passed in silence and steady cleaning when Atsushi’s phone buzzed with a breaking news alert.

«Breaking news! A robot is tearing down buildings in the city center! Will Spider-Man make an appearance? Stay tuned to find out!»

Damn.

He had to go.

“Uh… Akutagawa…” he began nervously.

Ryuunosuke stopped mid-motion, the rag in his hand hovering in the air.

“I… really need to go to the bathroom. I’ll be right back,” Nakajima said, already heading for the door.

“Don’t take too long,” the dark-haired boy replied, returning to his work without looking up.

He looked calm, which was a relief for Atsushi. The last thing he wanted was to get into another fight with this guy.

A minute later, Nakajima had left the school as Spider-Man, the wind rushing past his mask as he swung between buildings, heading straight for the danger zone.

What he didn’t expect was that such massive destruction could be caused by such a small robot. Entire facades lay in rubble, glass littered the streets, and rescue teams were already working hard to evacuate the terrified residents.

The moment the hero appeared, every camera turned toward him, and the crowd erupted in cheers. But he barely noticed. Something about this robot wasn’t right.

It looked like a simple floating sphere, smooth and almost harmless-looking, and Atsushi’s gaze stayed locked on it, following every movement.

Then, as it approached another building, it destroyed it in the blink of an eye. In that instant, Spider-Man saw its shape shift — the perfect sphere rippling like liquid metal, becoming a razor-edged crescent that spun at high speed before smashing into the structure.

It was nanotechnology. Fuck.

But why was it even created? Just to destroy?

There was no time to think. As the hero swung toward the robot, rising into the air on his web, the machine suddenly shifted again, its surface glowing an ominous blood-red, and shot toward Spider-Man like a bullet. he impact hit him square in the chest, knocking the breath from his lungs.

The hero crashed onto the asphalt, leaving a deep crater in the road.

It hurt. Badly.

How could such a small machine be that strong?

Taking it down was no easy task. The robot adapted to almost every one of his attacks, reshaping its body to counter them.

It was nearly impossible to land a hit — every strike seemed to slide off the machine’s shifting form — but Nakajima refused to give up. His hands moved fast, firing webs in every direction until the area looked like a maze of silver threads glinting under the city lights, cutting off any possible escape route.

But what he didn’t expect was for the machine to suddenly go on the offensive.

With a smooth ripple, the sphere elongated, stretching into the shape of a sword. The blade’s edge gleamed dangerously as it slashed through the air, each swing fast enough to whistle.

Spider-Man twisted and flipped to avoid being sliced in half, feeling the air split inches from his mask.

Then, just as abruptly, it changed tactics again. Its sharp edges folded inward, flattening into a broad metal plate that hovered menacingly.

“And what’s that supposed to do for you?” Spider-Man muttered with a mocking smirk, his voice laced with false confidence.

The answer came a heartbeat later.

The plate began to spin, faster and faster, until it was nothing but a blur — a giant buzzsaw screaming through the air. The sound was deafening.

It charged toward him, forcing him to dodge at the very last second. The machine didn’t slow; it slammed into a nearby building with a thunderous crack, tearing it apart.

This couldn’t go on much longer.

Atsushi would have to use his hidden power.

But just as he braced to unleash it, the robot abruptly froze midair. The spinning stopped. Its shape folded back into the smooth sphere, and it simply began to drop toward the street below.

The hero couldn’t comprehend the sudden turn of events.

Wasting no time, he finally managed to ensnare it in a thick web.

It looked like it had stopped working.

Spider-Man didn’t hesitate, he hit it with all his strength, and the robot shattered into tiny pieces.

Still, something felt off. His instincts were never wrong. But the crowd around him was already celebrating, cheering for their hero.

He couldn’t think about it now.

Wait—how much time had passed?

“What time is it?” he called to the crowd. Several fans answered at once.

Fuck. He’d been here for twenty minutes.

Akutagawa was going to kill him.

Without so much as a glance behind him, Spider-Man hurried back toward the school.

The gym was bathed in warm sunlight when Atsushi stepped inside, but Ryuunosuke was nowhere in sight. His gaze swept across the polished floor before settling on the storage closet.

The door creaked open, and the dark-haired boy stepped out. The instant their eyes met, he froze, his expression hardening into pure hatred.

“Ryuunosuke! I… I’m sorry,” Atsushi blurted, his voice uneven. “I wasn’t feeling well and—”

“You can spare me the excuses,” Ryuunosuke cut in, his tone sharp and cold. “You weren’t in the bathroom.” He brushed past Atsushi without slowing. “I finished everything. Hope you enjoyed yourself, asshole,” he added over his shoulder before disappearing through the gym doors.

Shit. Nakajima had messed up again.

“Did you plant the bombs?” the man asked his subordinates.

“Yes,” answered the young man in the cap.

“Good. You’re dismissed.” His eyes then shifted toward the scientist.

“Impressive work. Your robot lasted longer than I expected — and it looks like the hero had quite a time dealing with it,” the man said with a faint smile.

“Thank you,” the scientist replied.

“I’ve been thinking,” the man continued. “There’s a better way to put your nanotechnology skills to use. Sit.”

The two leaned in, quietly discussing their next move.

“We’ll begin in a couple of days. Will you be ready?” the man asked, standing to leave.

“I will,” the scientist said firmly.

Atsushi returned home. Luckily, his father still wasn’t back. He headed straight upstairs, dropped onto his bed, and buried his face in the pillow. He just wanted to scream.

Why did everything have to be so damn complicated?

Grabbing his phone, the silver-haired boy scrolled until he found the number he wanted. Atsushi hadn’t even saved it under a name, unlike the rest of his classmates.

Me: I’m sorry.

Cigarette Lover: Don’t text me, idiot.

Me: I really am sorry.

Cigarette Lover: So what?

Me: I’m sorry for what I said in the hallway, and for letting you down with the cleaning today. I’m really not as awful as I seem.

Cigarette Lover: I’ll say it again. Don’t text me.

Atsushi let out a heavy sigh. He needed to get back on patrol. Maybe he should check on Ryuunosuke? No. He couldn’t. The boy was still angry at him.

Although… wait. He wasn’t mad at Spider-Man.

Atsushi immediately slipped out the window, leaping across rooftops in his white suit.

“Chuuya, listen… I think I’ve gotten myself into something way bigger than I thought,” Dazai said, leaning back in his chair, laptop open in front of him.

“What now?” Nakahara replied between push-ups, barely glancing his way.

“Mori asked me to dig into Atsushi’s father. Turns out the guy paid the principal a huge sum to make sure no one found out Nakajima is his son.”

Chuuya stopped mid-push-up, frowning. “Then how the hell do you know?”

“You can trust me.”

“Right,” Chuuya scoffed. “That’s exactly why you’re spilling the whole story to me.”

“Don’t change the subject. The point is, this scientist has been involved in a lot of… let’s just say, not entirely legal projects.”

“So he’s, what, some evil scientist?”

“It’s worse than that. And he’s keeping Atsushi hidden for a reason. He’s not even his real son.”

Chuuya froze. “…What?”

“You’d better sit down.”

That got his attention. Chuuya grabbed a chair and sat next to Osamu — still shirtless, sweat glistening on his skin from the workout.

“Damn it, could you at least put on a shirt?” Dazai muttered, eyes flicking down despite himself. “You’re making it hard to focus.”

“Oh, for God’s sake.”

Chuuya disappeared into the other room and returned a moment later, pulling on a black T-shirt.

“Anyway,” Dazai went on, fingers tapping at the keys, “Atsushi’s father, or rather, the man who raised him, took him in after getting tangled up in a case involving drugs and illegal human experiments.”

Chuuya’s brows knit together. “That’s seriously messed up.”

“He was sent there to wipe out the entire organization,” Dazai said, glancing at the notes glowing on his laptop screen.

Chuuya leaned against the table. “One guy? Against all that?”

“It was possible because of his robots and explosives. He works with nanotechnology — far beyond anything you can make out of ordinary metal.”

Chuuya folded his arms. “Alright… but why take Atsushi?”

“Turns out, he’s the son of an old friend… who just happened to be the head of that very organization. And as he was dying in a bomb blast, he asked the scientist to take his son and look after him.”

“And how exactly do you know all this?”

“I’ve got my own sources,” Dazai replied smoothly. “But there’s still a lot I haven’t figured out yet.”

“So basically,” Chuuya said, leaning forward with a grim look, “this guy killed his friend, took the money, and kept the kid out of guilt?”

“Could be.”

“The kid doesn’t know, does he?”

“Of course not.”

“So what now?”

“For now, I’ll just send everything I found to Mori,” Dazai said cheerfully.

“I see,” Chuuya replied uncertainly. “Poor kid…”

“Oh, come on. You talk like your childhood was perfect,” Dazai said, glancing at him.

Chuuya seemed to drift into his own thoughts, his gaze distant. Osamu didn’t like that look.

He closed his laptop, slipped under the table in an instant.

Nakahara snapped out of it when his legs were suddenly pushed apart, Dazai’s face looking up at him with a devilish grin.

“What the hell are you doing, idiot?” the redhead demanded.

“Cheering you up,” Dazai said, reaching for his belt.

It was going to be a long night.

Chapter Text

When Atsushi reached Akutagawa’s house, he noticed the kitchen light glowing again, just like the night before. Apparently, Ryuunosuke didn’t care enough to draw the curtains.

That worked in the hero’s favor.

He crept closer, careful not to make a sound, and peeked through the window.

Akutagawa sat with his back to him, bare-chested, dressed only in a pair of shorts. His dark hair looked damp, clinging slightly to his neck, and Atsushi guessed he had just come out of the shower. His gaze wandered across the lean muscles of Ryuunosuke’s back.

Faint but undeniable scars marked his skin, old ones. Atsushi couldn’t help but wonder what kind of childhood had left them behind.

Finally, Spider-Man took a breath and tapped gently on the glass.

Akutagawa stiffened at the sound, then turned his head. The moment he recognized the hero, his shoulders eased, and he walked toward the window.

God… Atsushi hadn’t expected it, but just seeing Ryuunosuke like this, half-naked, water still glistening on his skin, made his face burn with embarrassment.

The window creaked open. A gust of night air slipped inside, brushing over Akutagawa’s damp body, and the boy shivered from the sudden chill.

Both of them froze.

“Where exactly are you staring?” Ryuunosuke finally broke the silence, his eyes full of confusion.

Only then did Atsushi realize he was still fixated on his classmate’s bare torso. God, it was just… surreal to see him like this.

“I wasn’t staring,” Nakajima blurted, stumbling over his words as he stepped onto the windowsill.

“I’ll let you in,” Akutagawa said coolly, blocking the way, “but only if you explain why you keep coming here.” He crossed his arms over his chest, looking far too composed, and far too good, for Atsushi’s liking.

“I… I just wanted to talk,” the hero said, his voice uncertain.

“Don’t you have friends for that?”

“Uh… not really.”

Ryuunosuke studied him in silence for a moment longer before finally stepping aside, allowing him in.

“I saw on the news you were fighting downtown today,” Akutagawa said, still not sure why Spider-Man kept coming to him.

“Wait—so you do watch me? What are you, a stalker?” Atsushi grinned, clearly enjoying himself. Teasing Ryuunosuke was just too easy.

But the events of the day kept replaying in his mind, how he almost beat that criminal to death, and how he yelled at Akutagawa in the hallway. He still didn’t understand why his emotions had gotten the better of him like that. Atsushi, however, was used to brushing his problems aside.

“W-what?!” Ryuunosuke barked, his face flushing as he smacked his hand against the table.

Atsushi’s laughter rang through the kitchen, light and warm, like a melody that didn’t belong in such a tense space.

“Alright, alright. Yeah, I was there. And honestly, it was rough — something completely new. So I’m just saying… you shouldn’t go out unless you have to, better stay alert.” He stepped fully into the kitchen, closing the window behind him.

“I don’t need your concern.”

“Wh—no! I wasn’t… concerned. It was just a warning,” Atsushi stammered, cheeks burning beneath the mask.

“…Fine.”

What struck Atsushi as odd was how comfortable Ryuunosuke seemed, sitting there shirtless as if it didn’t matter. Or maybe it was simply because he was at home, in his own space.

“So,” Spider-Man said, sliding into the chair across from him, “what’s new with you?”

Akutagawa’s eyes narrowed, his voice dropping into a growl. “There’s this one idiot.”

And Atsushi had a pretty good idea who that “idiot” was.

“Yeah?” he asked carefully.

“Yeah. Thinks he’s so cool, but he’s actually just a total jerk. There’s something seriously off about him,” Ryuunosuke muttered, his irritation clear.

This was the perfect chance for Atsushi to hear what Akutagawa really thought of him, and maybe finally figure out why he hated him so much.

“Why do you think that?” Atsushi pressed.

“I don’t know, he just gets under my skin. Who throws up in the bathroom on the very first day? And—” his voice rose, his hands cutting through the air as he spoke, “—even Dazai treats him way too nicely! And where the hell did he even get all those muscles? And don’t even get me started on those fangirls, like he’s some kind of celebrity! Because of him we got stuck with detention, and instead of helping out, that idiot just ditched me and left me to clean all by myself!”

Atsushi sat there in shock. Hearing all of that stung more than he expected. He didn’t want Ryuunosuke to hate him. He wanted to fix things. Sure, Akutagawa annoyed him too, but… it couldn’t go on like this forever, could it?

Why was Spider-Man allowed to hear all of this, but not Nakajima himself? And wait, how did Ryuunosuke even know he was throwing up in the bathroom? Which meant… he’d seen him. That explained why Atsushi had smelled cigarette smoke that day. God, that was embarrassing.

“Hey, so… who exactly is this Dazai guy? And don’t you think you might be exaggerating a little?” Atsushi said, trying his best to keep up the act.

“Dazai’s our literature teacher. You probably figured out I’m still in school. You were there a couple of days ago, when the bank got robbed,” Akutagawa said flatly. “And I’m not exaggerating. Today he shoved all his responsibilities onto me, and honestly, I don’t think I’ll ever forgive him.”

Atsushi’s chest tightened. He really did feel guilty hearing that.

“Maybe… maybe he had something urgent to do?” he offered weakly.

“I couldn’t care less.”

Atsushi froze, unsure how to respond. Should he drop the subject? Or push further? Against his better judgment, he asked:

“What would it take for you to forgive him?”

The second the words left his mouth, he winced. Why would he even ask that?

To his surprise, Akutagawa didn’t snap back. He actually stopped to think.

“…I don’t think that’s even possible,” he admitted quietly.

“I see…” Atsushi murmured.

The silence grew heavy between them. Then, without warning, Akutagawa stood, muttered a quick “I’ll be back,” and walked out of the room, leaving Atsushi sitting there alone with his thoughts.

When he came back, he’d thrown on a T-shirt and was carrying a small box from the pastry shop down the street. It was a fairly popular place, always smelling of fresh cream and sugar.

“I picked these up on the way home. Was planning to eat after my shower… want some?” he asked casually.

Spider-Man gave a quick nod.

Sharing sweets with Ryuunosuke? That sounded almost unreal—like something out of a dream.

What Atsushi hadn’t expected, though, was just how much Akutagawa loved desserts. In less than two minutes he had polished off three pastries, one after another, without so much as blinking.

Atsushi just sat there, half impressed, half stunned.

“…Aren’t you going to eat?” Ryuunosuke asked, his voice calm as he poured steaming chamomile tea into a cup. The faint floral scent spread through the kitchen.

“Oh, right!” Atsushi blurted, fumbling with the small switch at his neck. He had gotten a little better with the buttons since his last encounter with the dark-haired boy. The mask shifted with a soft click, uncovering his chin and lips.

That’s when he noticed it—Akutagawa’s gaze. It lingered on his mouth, steady and unflinching, as if the sight had caught him completely off guard.

Atsushi froze for a second, tempted to say something, but then realization struck him like a stone, if his lips were exposed, then the voice modulator was off too. Which meant if he spoke, Akutagawa would hear his real voice.

He’d have to stay silent.

Ryuunosuke didn’t seem to notice the panic rising inside him. Instead, he watched with an almost quiet fascination as Atsushi lifted a slice of cake, took a small bite, and chewed.

The pastry really was delicious, soft, and sweet, with a hint of cream that melted on his tongue. But it was impossible to focus on the taste with Akutagawa’s sharp eyes studying his every move like that.

“Well?” Ryuunosuke finally asked, setting his teacup down with a quiet clink. His tone was even, but there was something almost probing in his stare. “How is it?”

Atsushi gave him a thumbs-up.

That’s when it seemed to finally click for Ryuunosuke—the hero couldn’t actually talk. And the realization brought a devilish grin to his face.

“Well, well… why so quiet, sweetheart? Don’t tell me you’re speechless because of my looks,” he teased, his eyes glinting with mischief.

Atsushi instantly choked on his pastry. What an absolute jerk. He was definitely doing this on purpose.

Spider-Man moved to reach for the switch at his neck, ready to close the mask again so he could at least say something.

But the bastard was quicker. Ryuunosuke leaned in, pinning one of Atsushi’s wrists to the table while catching his other hand in midair, stopping him from reaching the button.

 “So embarrassed you want to hide your pretty face again? Come on, baby, don’t be shy,” he mocked, voice smooth and taunting.

Atsushi’s jaw tightened, his “spider” eyes narrowing with fury. He was going to kill him.

Ryuunosuke only laughed harder at the sight. A sharp, genuine laugh, so rare coming from him that it caught Atsushi off guard. His hands still gripped Nakajima’s wrists, warm and unyielding.

 “This is payback for calling me a princess last time, idiot,” Ryuunosuke said at last, finally pulling back and releasing him from his grasp.

Turns out he actually knew how to have fun — even if it meant teasing someone else just to get a laugh.

Once Ryuunosuke finally stepped back, Atsushi hurriedly pressed the button.

“You idiot! What the hell was that?!” he snapped, his voice full of frustration.

And he could swear the dark-haired boy was fighting the urge to burst out laughing again.

“You’re not gonna finish that?” Ryuunosuke asked casually, pointing at the half-eaten pastry still sitting on Atsushi’s plate.

With a heavy sigh, Atsushi shook his head, and without hesitation the raven-haired boy claimed the rest of the dessert for himself.

“I should probably get back on patrol,” the hero muttered as he stood up, though once again Atsushi lingered longer than he intended.

“Yeah. Sure,” Ryuunosuke answered shortly.

The window opened, and within seconds the kitchen was quiet, leaving Ryuunosuke alone with only the faint chill drifting in from outside. The draft made him shiver, and he sneezed before realizing how empty the room felt without the masked hero.

Operation “Make the cold, cigarette-loving guy forgive you” had officially begun.

After patrol, Atsushi headed straight to the cozy bakery where Ryuunosuke had bought those pastries yesterday.

The night itself had gone by like any other, thankfully, Nakajima’d managed to push most of his intrusive thoughts aside.

When the silver-haired boy finally reached Akutagawa’s locker, he felt a wave of relief—its owner was nowhere to be seen. For the very first time, Atsushi pulled open the metal door, his chest tightening as if he were trespassing into forbidden territory.

Inside, everything was perfectly neat, almost intimidating in its order. The only thing missing was Ryuunosuke’s jacket. Swallowing nervously, Atsushi set the pastry box inside and carefully stuck a note beside it, moving as if afraid to mess up the perfect order. On the note, in bold but slightly uneven letters, he had written: I’m sorry. To make sure there was no mistake about who left it, he signed his name at the bottom.

 “What are you doing?” came a girl’s voice from behind.

Atsushi froze and slowly turned, locking eyes with Gin. Her expression was puzzled.

“I… uh… I was just—” He had no idea what to say.

But then Gin’s eyes went wide when she caught sight of what he’d slipped into her brother’s locker.

“Oh my god… You’re in love with Ryuunosuke?!” she gasped, her face lighting up, eyes practically sparkling like stars.

It took Atsushi a few seconds to process what she’d just said.

“W–What?! No, of course not! I just…” He stumbled over his words, desperately searching for an explanation. How the hell was he supposed to say this? That he’d found out her brother had a sweet tooth and thought maybe pastries could serve as an apology for ditching him in the gym yesterday? That technically he’d been out saving the city, but Akutagawa didn’t know that, and now probably saw him as a total jerk?

“Oh my God, I get it now! Don’t worry, I’ll totally help you out! Honestly, you guys are always like this—you never know how to show your feelings properly,” Gin went on, completely ignoring how Atsushi’s face twisted more and more in disgust with every word.

“I’m not in love with him!”

“See? You still can’t admit it! That’s why you keep picking fights with him. But don’t worry, I’m on your side.”

Right then, Tachihara appeared out of nowhere, clearly having caught a little too much of the conversation.

“No way, dude! Why didn’t you just say so?” he grinned, practically bouncing with excitement. “Although… wait… that means you’ll have to compete with Higuchi…” he trailed off, stroking his chin like he was seriously weighing the odds.

God. Why me?

“Guys, this is a misunderstanding—”

But they weren’t listening. And to make matters worse, Lucy had just walked up to her locker and caught the tail end of the commotion between Gin and Tachihara.

Now there were three of them. Perfect.

Atsushi could feel panic tightening in his chest. He knew he had to shut this down somehow. He snapped Akutagawa’s locker shut, bracing himself to try again, only for his eyes to catch a dark figure approaching in the distance.

Ryuunosuke. Heading straight for them.

Panic surged through Nakajima, and he shoved his three classmates away from Ryuunosuke’s locker, hissing at them to keep quiet. To his relief, they actually did, eyes wide, startled into silence.

But he wasn’t ready to face Akutagawa. Not like this. So he quickly veered off in the opposite direction. Luckily, their lockers were at the far end of the main hallway, which curved into a quieter wing where most of the lecture rooms were.

He didn’t even think, just ducked into the first classroom he saw.

The room was dim, the blinds half-drawn, and for a split second Atsushi thought it was empty. Until his eyes adjusted, they landed on Chuuya and Dazai, locked in a kiss.

Atsushi froze, horrified.

Why. Why here. Why now.

And more importantly, why didn’t he have some miraculous ability to erase memories?

“Get off me, idiot! Wasn’t last night enough for you?!” the redhead snapped at his husband.

It was early morning. There was still time before classes, and Chuuya just wanted to finish checking his reports and preparing exam papers.

But his annoyingly persistent husband wouldn’t leave him alone.

“Oh, come on, no one’s going to notice… just a little?” the brunette pleaded, giving him those puppy-dog eyes.

“Never thought you’d turn out like this,” Nagahara muttered, remembering their school days, full of fistfights and reckless brawls.

Dazai only smirked, seized Chuuya’s wrist, and tugged him toward an empty classroom.

“This isn’t my office, dumbass. Don’t tell me you’re already losing your memory? Getting old, are we?”

But instead of an answer, he suddenly received a quick, gentle kiss on the lips. Almost instant.

“I like seeing that embarrassed look on your face,” the brunette said with a smile, his eyes locked on Chuuya’s.

Nakahara grabbed him by the collar of his coat and kissed him back—only much more aggressively. Aggressively enough that he nearly knocked Dazai’s teeth out.

They weren’t sure how much time had passed. But the sound of a door closing made them both turn their heads.

And there stood Atsushi, staring straight at them. His face first frozen in shock, then twisting into pure disgust.

Both men instantly pulled away from each other.

“Uh… Atsushi… Listen, we—” Chuuya began uncertainly.

“Stop. Don’t. Say. Anything,” Nakajima muttered, covering his face with his hands. “I didn’t see a thing.”

“Probably for the best,” Dazai agreed, his sharp eyes fixed on the boy.

“So what are you doing here, hm?” the brunette asked, smirking. “Hiding from someone?”

Atsushi tensed up.

“N-no! Why would I be hiding from anyone?” he stammered, voice too fast, too nervous. Chuuya’s skeptical stare and Dazai’s ever-present grin told him they didn’t buy a word of it.

Realizing it was useless to lie, Nakajima gave up.

“Fine. I’m hiding. From Akutagawa. But you didn’t see me here either!” the white-haired boy blurted out.

Somehow, that was enough to strike a silent agreement between all three, and before long, everyone went their separate ways.

But Atsushi had overlooked one crucial thing, his classmates still believed he was in love with the dark-haired boy.

When he entered the classroom, every gaze turned toward him, filled with a kind of knowing look.

Damn it. Did they tell everyone?!

Why is Atsushi always this unlucky? And how the hell was he supposed to explain this misunderstanding now?

His eyes wandered to the desk where the dark-haired boy usually sat. Their gazes met.

It seemed those rumors hadn’t reached Akutagawa yet. What a relief.

The boy’s face was calm, unreadable. And yet… there was something different this time. For once, his eyes didn’t look empty. Seems like the sweets were actually a smart move. That was progress, wasn’t it?

At least Atsushi wasn’t getting death glares anymore. But Ryuunosuke still refused to speak to him.

What bothered Nakajima even more, though, were his classmates, the very people who were supposed to be his friends.

The moment the lesson ended, Atsushi barely had time to breathe before his classmates crowded around his desk. They leaned in from all sides, eyes sparkling with mischief, as if this was the most important mission of their lives.

“You should ask him to hang out after class!” Lucy chirped, while Kyōka nodded earnestly beside her.

Atsushi wanted to sink through the floor. As if that wasn’t bad enough, Higuchi was watching him with a deadly glare…

She clearly saw him as a rival.

“For the hundredth time, guys—I’m not in love with him!” Atsushi protested.

No one listened.

“Hey! Give him a cow, and he’ll definitely be yours!” Kenji suggested cheerfully, his smile wide enough to make Atsushi groan.

Thank goodness Ryuunosuke had stepped out of the classroom during the break.

And of course, his beloved classmates thought the best way to spend their free time was to shower him with love advice.

It was torture.

“Actually, that explains why you never showed any interest in your fangirls,” Jounichirou mused thoughtfully.

Atsushi gritted his teeth. What on earth could he do to put an end to this?

Wait—Ranpo!

“Ranpo! Please, tell them I’m not in love with Ryuunosuke!” the white-haired boy begged the young detective.

Everyone immediately turned to the brunette, waiting for his verdict.

“Sorry, Atsushi. Can’t help you,” Ranpo replied casually, chewing on a snack bar.

The chatter started up again at once.

Traitor…

“So, when did it start, Atsushi?” Gin asked curiously.

Luckily, the bell rang at that moment, forcing everyone back to their seats. Akutagawa entered the room and sat down at his desk.

Now Nakajima had a brand new headache. More than anything, he prayed Ryuunosuke wouldn’t hear these ridiculous rumors.

“Instead of a written winter exam, I’m giving you a different assignment,” Dazai explained. “You’ll work in pairs on a small project. Choose an author and analyze one of their works. Since the number of students is odd, someone can work alone if they want. We’ll decide the pairs later.”

This was the perfect chance for Nakajima. If he could partner with Ryuunosuke, maybe, just maybe, the dark-haired boy would finally forgive him.

Atsushi didn’t really understand why he wanted this so badly. But for once in his life, he wanted to be better at something than Spider-Man.

Now he just had to figure out how to convince Akutagawa to work with him.

Chapter Text

Something wasn’t right.

How could Atsushi know he liked sweets? No one knew that except his sister. Unless…

No. That couldn’t be.

The whole day had been strange — starting with the white-haired boy’s sudden apology and ending with the odd behavior of his classmates.

They kept whispering among themselves, but whenever Akutagawa got too close, they’d fall silent as if nothing had happened.

And then there was Lucy. Without asking, she paired him up with Atsushi for the project. At the end of class, Dazai had told her to write down the partners everyone chose for themselves, yet she didn’t even bother asking who he wanted to work with.

The more Akutagawa thought about it, the heavier the feeling in his chest became.

What the hell was happening?

Ryuunosuke had wanted to work alone from the very beginning. And when he glanced at the white-haired boy, Atsushi looked just as stunned to see their names paired together.

Anger burned in his chest. How was he supposed to work with this idiot? In the end, he’d end up doing everything himself anyway.

His mind, however, slipped back to the night before.

That hero… he had gotten far too close. He broke through the walls Ryuunosuke had built around himself, and for once, he didn’t know how to react. Against his will, he found himself enjoying the time they spent together.

And when Akutagawa caught even a glimpse of Spider-Man’s face, he felt something unfamiliar — trust. Other than his sister, no one had ever trusted him before. It stirred emotions he couldn’t name, things he didn’t want to admit.

For a brief moment, Ryuunosuke just wanted to tease the hero, to play along. Even if the words that left his mouth were embarrassing enough to make his chest tighten.

At lunch, Akutagawa headed to Chuuya’s office, carrying the pastries Atsushi had given him. If it were anything else, he would’ve tossed it without a second thought, but how could he refuse something this good?

“Decided to eat alone?” the teacher asked as the dark-haired boy stepped into the room.

“Yes,” he answered shortly, sitting at the front desk and unwrapping the sweets.

“You… like sweets?” Chuuya asked suddenly, lifting his gaze from the reports on his desk.

“Yes,” Ryuunosuke repeated, biting into one.

“Tell me… did Atsushi give those to you?”

Ryuunosuke was just about to reach for a second pastry when his hand froze in midair.

“Yes. How do you know?” he asked, narrowing his eyes.

“Oh, just a guess,” the teacher replied casually.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing. Forget it. Enjoy your food,” Chuuya said, lowering his eyes back to the paperwork.

“…Thanks,” Ryuunosuke muttered, though his thoughts were already elsewhere.

What was happening today?

Later, in Yosano’s biology class, he noticed again how a crowd was gathering around Nakajima.

And completely by accident, when the teacher asked him to fetch some papers from another room, he ended up overhearing something.

Holding the stack of documents in his hands, Ryuunosuke lingered by the door of the biology classroom. Curiosity gnawed at him, what on earth was going on inside? Against his better judgment, he decided to eavesdrop.

“Don’t be shy, Atsushi, you have to make it perfect!”

“Try a candlelit dinner! I heard that’s super romantic.”

“I doubt Ryuunosuke would enjoy something like that…”

“Kids! Quiet down! We’ll start the test as soon as Akutagawa brings the papers. What’s all that noise in here?”

“N-Nothing!”

“Someone’s in love, that’s all!”

And in that moment, it hit him. No way. Could that idiot actually like him? Disgusting. Unbelievable.

But it did explain a lot. How Atsushi knew about his favorite bakery, probably squeezed it out of Gin, and why Lucy had mysteriously paired them together. Still, why act like such a jerk all this time if he actually had feelings?

Wait… did Chuuya know too? Had that fool gone around telling everyone about this nonsense?

Ryuunosuke’s head spun. If it was true… how was he supposed to reject him?

Pushing the thought aside, he finally stepped into the noisy classroom. Instantly, all the chatter died down.

“All right, children! Let’s do a little practice test before the exams,” Yosano announced with her usual bright smile.

Akutagawa sat down in silence, lost in his thoughts, unable to shake the strange heaviness pressing at his chest.

After class, Nakajima caught up to him.

“Hey, Ryunosuke. About the project… when do we start?” he asked as Akutagawa opened his locker.

“…” Could it be that he actually wanted to help with the project?

“Come on! What do I have to do for you to finally forgive me?” Atsushi pressed.

“Buy me an unlimited supply of cigarettes. You love the smell so much, don’t you?” the dark-haired boy said with biting sarcasm.

“I’m willing to put up with it!” Atsushi shot back.

Akutagawa pulled on his coat. Seeing this, Atsushi hurried to grab his own jacket as well.

When Ryunosuke silently headed toward the stairs, Nakajima followed. Neither of them spoke.

“Don’t you want to go somewhere? To eat, maybe?” Atsushi asked nervously. Honestly, he had no idea how to make friends.

By the time he spoke, they had already left the school grounds.

“What exactly are you after?” Ryunosuke asked, turning to face him.

“Uh… I just want to be friends?” the white-haired boy answered uncertainly, tugging at the soft yellow jacket he was wearing.

“I’m not interested in being friends with you,” Akutagawa said coldly, turning back around and continuing on his way.

“Please!” came a desperate voice from behind.

Akutagawa froze. Could the rumors have been true?

“Listen. I can’t return your feelings,” the dark-haired boy said flatly, meeting Nakajima’s eyes.

“Wh—wait—WHAT?!” Atsushi yelled, his face turning bright red. “For God’s sake, no! Damn it! Those are just rumors! They’re not true!”

“Not true?” Akutagawa asked, uncertainty flashing in his voice.

“Of course not! Me? In love with you? N-no way!” Atsushi stammered, practically shouting.

“…I see.” Now it was Akutagawa’s turn to feel awkward. Of course. Who would ever fall for someone like him…

“I just wanted to apologize and fix things between us. I think we started off on the wrong foot…” Nakajima said, looking at Ryunosuke’s scowling face. “Let me prove I’m not as bad as I seem!”

“I’ll think about it,” the dark-haired boy muttered before walking away.

This time, no footsteps followed him.

And once again, Akutagawa wondered: would the “hero” come to him tonight?

The answer was no.

No one came.

Instead, just as Ryunosuke was getting ready to turn off the lights and sink into bed, his phone buzzed with a few unexpected messages.

Toilet Lover: Ryunosuke, I really am sorry about the other day. And now everyone thinks I’m in love with you, so I’ve probably ruined your peaceful school life a bit…

Me: Congratulations. How else are you planning to ruin my life?

Toilet Lover: I didn’t mean to! It was all a misunderstanding! Sorry!

Me: Which part of “stop texting me” do you not understand?

Toilet Lover: All of it.

Just then, someone started a conversation in the class group chat.

Eternal Prison

Higuchi: Atsushi! I challenge you to a battle!

Tachihara: YEEEES!!

Gin: Higuchi, you really shouldn’t have listened to that idiot…

Lucy: Wait, what’s going on???

Kyōka: Doesn’t it bother anyone that Akutagawa is also in this chat?

Higuchi: Ryunosuke! I’ll prove I’m better than that guy!

Lucy: No way…

Junichirou: Okay, place your bets, everyone. Who’s backing who?

Naomi: Big brother, you’re going to lose all your money at this rate.

Kenji: I can’t wait to see this battle! I’ve never watched city people fight over a partner before!

Toilet Lover: Wait, what? …

Kyōka: Well, Atsushi, looks like you have to fight!

Lucy: Come on! Let the battle begin!

Ranpo: Can I be the host?

Gin: Guys, are you sure about this?

Lucy: Not really… but it’s too late to back out now.

Kenji: What do you mean?

Lucy: Well, now Akutagawa knows who’s in love with him.

Tachihara: In the end, he’ll just choose who he wants to be with!

Me: I’m not taking part in this circus.

Why on earth weren’t any of his classmates asleep? Didn’t the time of night bother them at all?

Junichirou: Oh wow! He actually replied! That means he’s definitely interested!

Naomi: Totally!

Lucy: Higuchi, what kind of “battle” are we talking about, anyway?

Higuchi: Um… Tachihara didn’t tell me that part…

Gin: Stop listening to him…

Ranpo: Fine, then…let’s see who knows Akutagawa best!

Toilet Lover: Guys, I don’t want to take part in this.

After reading that message, Ryuunosuke paused, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. The idea of teasing the white-haired boy was just too tempting. So he opened their private chat and typed:

Me: If you win, I’ll forgive you.

Toilet Lover: Are you serious right now!?

Me: Yes.

Toilet Lover: That’s cruel.

Me: I know.

Toilet Lover: You do realize they actually believe I’m in love with you, right? If I join in, my reputation is doomed.

Me: Not my problem.

Seconds ticked by. Meanwhile, the group chat exploded with messages, everyone urging Atsushi to take part. Finally, the white-haired boy gave in.

Toilet Lover: Fine. I’m in.

Lucy: IT’S STARTING!

Kenji: This is so exciting!

Ranpo: I’ll be the host!

Higuchi: But let’s make Akutagawa the one who gives out the points!

Lucy: How many points do they need to win?

Ranpo: Five.

Naomi: Perfect. I even opened a bag of popcorn.

Ranpo: First question: what’s Akutagawa’s favorite drink?

Lucy: I believe in you, Atsushi!

Higuchi: Tea!

Tachihara: Things are heating up!

Toilet Lover: I was going to say tea too…

Ranpo: Well, Akutagawa?

Me: Makes sense that Higuchi was quicker.

Ryuunosuke could already picture the annoyed look on the white-haired boy’s face. In the end, if Atsushi lost, Akutagawa wouldn’t have to suffer any longer. Though… if Higuchi won, he’d have no choice but to break her heart.

Ranpo: Second question: what subject does Akutagawa hate?

Tachihara: Aren’t these questions a bit too easy?

Lucy: Relax, this is just the warm-up! Don’t underestimate Ranpo!

Toilet Lover: Literature.

Higuchi: Literature!

Ranpo: So that’s a tie?

Me: For now, yes.

Junichirou: Ranpo, don’t hold back! Give them harder ones!

Ranpo: Third question: Ryuunosuke’s secret?

Lucy: Wait, you think they’re just gonna say it out loud?

Kyōka: I doubt that.

Ranpo: Of course not. They’ll message him privately, that should be obvious.

Kenji: …Well, it wasn’t obvious to me.

Naomi: Ugh, so all we can do is wait?

At that moment, Ryuunosuke received one message each from his two classmates.

Higuchi: You hate Dazai?

Akutagawa never really thought of that as a secret. He tried to keep his emotions in check, but sometimes they slipped through.

Toilet Lover: Cigarettes?

Now that was closer to the truth. The idiot had just gotten lucky.

Eternal Prison

Me: Atsushi

Lucy: Whaaaat?! He knows your secret?

Naomi: I bet he’s got plenty of secrets.

Kyōka: Nice job, Atsushi!

Ranpo: Fourth question: What is Ryuunosuke afraid of?

Junichirou: That guy is fear itself. Does he even fear anything?

Naomi: So they’ll just message him in private again?

Tachihara: Damn, I wanted to know what he’s afraid of.

Once again, Akutagawa had to choose.

Toilet Lover: Loneliness. But at the same time, you’re scared of opening up to anyone.

Me: Don’t compare me to yourself.

Toilet Lover: I’m not. It’s just my guess.

Me: Then what are you afraid of?

Toilet Lover: Oh? So you’re finally curious about me?)

Akutagawa ignored him. In the group chat, everyone was still buzzing, waiting for the dark-haired boy’s verdict.

Higuchi: Death?

Ryuunosuke wasn’t afraid of death. Death had always followed him like a shadow.

Eternal Prison

Me: Atsushi

Lucy: No way! Atsushi, you can do this! Only two more questions left!

Junichirou: I never doubted you!

Tachihara: Come on, Higuchi, don’t give up!

Ranpo: Fifth question: What’s Akutagawa’s type?

Lucy: Things are heating up!

Naomi: Come on, answer in the chat this time! Let us know something too!

Junichirou: Agreed!

Tachihara: Come on, Ryuunosuke, you don’t mind, right?

Akutagawa didn’t know what to say. Truthfully, he didn’t really have a “type.” But he wasn’t against seeing what the two of them would come up with.

Me: Fine.

Kenji: Yay!

Higuchi: I think Akutagawa’s type is someone strong enough to stand up for themselves. And someone who would care for him.

Lucy: That’s so sweet.

Naomi: That really is an interesting guess… but what does Atsushi think?

The white-haired boy stayed silent.

The truth was, at that very moment, while trying to figure out Ryuunosuke’s “type,” he was also in the middle of saving a group of hostages. He never imagined he’d be thrown into such a situation. But there was no time to waste, everyone was waiting for his answer.

Ryuunosuke assumed Atsushi had no idea what to say, which explained his silence.

Ranpo: Atsushiii, come on already!

Higuchi: Does that mean the point goes to me?

Kyōka: Let’s wait a little longer.

Meanwhile, Akutagawa, who’d been lying in bed, decided to get up and head to the kitchen for a snack. Either way, sleep wasn’t going to come easily tonight.

Just then, the white-haired boy finally came back online.

Eternal Prison

Toilet Lover: His type is… sweets.

Naomi: Sweet boys? Like you, maybe?

Lucy: HAHAHA that’s priceless!

Junichirou: Clever move!

Ranpo: What do you say, Akutagawa?

Ryuunosuke understood perfectly well what Atsushi’s words really meant. But he wanted to be sure, so he opened their private chat.

Me: How do you even know about that bakery?

At the same time, Nakajima was already reporting to the police how many people he had rescued and how many criminals he had tied up.

He didn’t know how to respond. Damn it. How could he have been so careless! Ryuunosuke could easily piece it together that he was Spider-Man. Fuck.

But wait. When he’d left that pastry in Akutagawa’s locker, Gin had been the first to notice and immediately assumed he was in love. Didn’t that mean she already knew about his favorite bakery?

It worked in Atsushi’s favor that the siblings weren’t on the best of terms right now, so Ryuunosuke was unlikely to ask Gin if Atsushi decided to lie.

Toilet Lover: I heard it from Gin.

Me: I see.

So Ryuunosuke’s theory turned out to be right after all.

Eternal Prison

Me: Atsushi

Lucy: NO WAY?! SWEET BOYS?!

Kyōka: …Does this count as a love confession?

Tachihara: Holy crap.

Naomi: Damn, I’m out of popcorn. My brother ate it all.

Junichirou: Excuse me, you had your share too!

Kenji: Wait, you two are texting even though you’re in the same room?

Lucy: Just ignore them! Something way juicier is happening here!

Ranpo: Sixth question, and it might be the last! How many exes has Ryuunosuke had?

Higuchi: …Is this a trick question?

Tachihara: HE HAD EXES?!

Gin: I’m not even sure I know what this is about…

Lucy: Whoa! Ranpo, you knew about his exes and didn’t tell us??

Kyōka: Do you really think he’s ever had any?

Junichirou: damn…

Akutagawa knew exactly what Ranpo was doing. A sly move. But to the dark-haired boy, it seemed obvious that anyone could guess that he had never been in a relationship. Not once.

Higuchi: I’m not sure… but I’d guess at least two? Considering how perfect Ryuunosuke is.

Naomi: Imagine if Akutagawa isn’t who we think he is, and he’s actually had, like, over a hundred exes.

Lucy: I don’t think it’s that extreme though…

Tachihara: Higuchi’s version actually sounds pretty realistic, maybe?

Kenji: What does Atsushi say?

Toilet Lover: He’s never had an ex.

Ranpo: I think we should wait for Ryuunosuke’s own verdict.

Me: Atsushi.

At that, the chat exploded—some cheering for the white-haired boy, others rushing to comfort Higuchi. But she didn’t look too disappointed. She said that just being near Akutagawa was enough to make her happy.

If only she knew what he was really like, she wouldn’t think that way.

And now, unfortunately, Ryuunosuke had no choice but to forgive the white-haired boy, who at that very moment was messaging him again.

Toilet Lover: You’ll keep your word, won’t you?

Me: I always keep my word.

Toilet Lover: That’s a relief. So… when do we start working on the project? :)

Chapter Text

There were, surprisingly, a few upsides to everyone believing Atsushi was in love with Ryuunosuke.

For one, the fangirls had finally lost interest and left him in peace—proof of just how powerful a little gossip could be.

The downside was the endless stream of questions about his supposed relationship with the dark-haired boy. For some reason, everyone had convinced themselves they were already a couple, all because Atsushi had beaten Higuchi in that silly contest yesterday.

Of course, that wasn’t true.

And honestly, Atsushi wanted nothing to do with all that. Him and Ryuunosuke? Definitely not.

That was why the silver-haired boy went with the simplest solution: he told everyone he’d been dumped. It was easier that way. A quick, little tale about heartbreak, and the curiosity faded just like that.

Still, even though Ryuunosuke had technically forgiven him, he wouldn’t actually speak to him. How cruel.

He’d said something along the lines of, “I won’t waste words on you. We’ll only talk if it’s about the literature project.”

What a mood killer.

Because of that strange, heavy feeling lingering inside him, Atsushi no longer felt like visiting Akutagawa in the Spider-Man costume. Just thinking about it left him feeling… incomplete. As if he wasn’t enough. As if he didn’t even deserve to be there.

Maybe, just maybe, if he could get closer to the dark-haired boy as himself and not as Spider-Man, he could finally prove he was worth something.

Prove he wasn’t hopeless.

Prove he could be trusted.

No one could really say why he cared so much. Even Atsushi himself wasn’t sure. What was he hoping to gain from all this? Still, he couldn’t bring himself to stop. Maybe it was selfish, but in the end, that hardly mattered.

The next day, the whole class went to the library on Ranpo’s suggestion. Only Gin and Tachihara decided not to join. Even Akutagawa, to everyone’s surprise, had agreed to come along.

The young detective had proposed that everyone should prepare for exams there. And surprisingly, the library had a hidden study area with proper desks and chairs where students could work in silence, but hardly anyone knew about it. Which made sense: to reach it, you had to weave through endless rows of bookshelves and take a series of completely random turns, as though following a secret map.

It was a good thing Ranpo had such an excellent memory.

The room had grown so quiet that the only sounds were the soft rustle of pages and the faint scratching of pens. Everyone had already settled into their seats, spreading books and notes across the large table. Luckily, the desks were big enough for all of them to sit together comfortably.

“By the way, Ranpo… why did you decide to work alone?” Lucy finally broke the silence.

“Who said I’d be working alone?” Ranpo replied with a playful smile.

“Well… you asked to be signed up by yourself… without a partner,” Lucy said uncertainly.

“Don’t worry! Poe will help me.”

“Who?” she blinked.

The others, now curious, lifted their heads from their books. Even Akutagawa, who had chosen the farthest seat like some lone wolf, was clearly listening in.

“Poe! Don’t be shy! Come on over!” Ranpo suddenly shouted, his voice carrying across the quiet library.

A moment later, a man stepped out from between the shelves, half-hidden by the tall stacks of books.

“Are you sure?… I feel like I’ll only get in the way…” he said hesitantly.

“Nonsense! You’ll be just fine. In fact, we can start working on the project right now. Come on, sit here!” Ranpo insisted, pointing at the empty chair beside him. On his other side, Kenji was watching the newcomer with bright, open curiosity.

“Maybe you’ll introduce us?” Naomi asked.

“Oh, right! This is Poe—he’s a librarian,” the young detective replied.

“A librarian?!” everyone exclaimed at once.

“Uh… yeah,” Ranpo said casually, as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

“Wait, is that even allowed?” Kenji asked thoughtfully.

“Of course it is! Just… don’t tell Dazai,” the brunette added with a sly smile.

So that explained why Ranpo kept vanishing during lunch breaks. He had apparently struck up a friendship with the librarian. The revelation left Atsushi a little surprised, though the man didn’t seem much older than them. Still, what weighed on Nakajima’s mind far more was the dark-haired boy he now had to work with.

“By the way, guys! After exams, I’m inviting you all over to my place. I’m planning a party,” Kyōka suddenly announced.

Her mother was an incredibly wealthy woman, and it was hard to even imagine the scale of such a party. Everyone immediately lit up with excitement.

“No way! Really?!” Lucy cried out, hugging her friend.

“So… who are you planning to invite?” Junichirou asked.

“My mom wants me to invite everyone…” the girl said a little hesitantly.

“Everyone? What do you mean by that?” Naomi raised a brow.

“She means the whole school—including the teachers,” Ranpo spoke up before Kyōka could. Everyone froze in shock.

“Seriously…?” Atsushi asked.

“Yes. The thing is, my mother knows many of the teachers, and she enjoys throwing large-scale events…” Kyōka sighed.

At once, the others started bombarding her with questions about the party. Atsushi, for his part, would have loved to go. He had never been to one before. But Nakajima had a city to protect. So it was unlikely he would ever make it.

While the chatter buzzed in the background, the white-haired boy glanced at his project partner. Ryuunosuke seemed completely absorbed in his notebook again, calm and collected as always.

Atsushi decided this was the perfect moment to finally begin. All his classmates believed he had broken Akutagawa’s heart, and that Atsushi was now desperately trying to stay friends with him. The funny part was—they had never really been friends to begin with. But Atsushi did want to change that. He wanted them to become friends for real.

At least Akutagawa wasn’t likely to ask Dazai for a new partner. And their teacher certainly wouldn’t approve a switch.

“Hey,” the white-haired boy said quietly as he slid into the seat beside him.

Silence was his only answer. He didn’t even look up.

Fine, have it your way.

“Why so quiet, pretty boy?” Atsushi teased, fully aware that this would get a reaction out of Ryuunosuke. After all, it was always amusing to watch him look both furious and embarrassed at the same time.

“You idiot, shut up!” Akutagawa snapped, finally glaring at the white-haired boy, his brows furrowed.

“So, shall we get started?” Atsushi quickly changed the subject.

The thing was, Akutagawa had completely ignored Atsushi’s last message about the project. Atsushi figured he should be grateful the guy was at least reading his texts at all.

Instead of an answer, Atsushi was met with a heavy sigh. Ryuunosuke began sorting through his papers and finally handed him a thick stack of printed pages.

“Here. Analyze this part of the work—every single sentence,” the dark-haired boy ordered before turning back to his own notes.

God, there were so many pages. Atsushi never thought a book could be this long. And of course, his partner hadn’t even given him a choice. Ryuunosuke had picked both the author and the book himself. All Atsushi could do now was obey and work like some kind of loyal puppy.

Both of them soon sank into a quiet rhythm, each absorbed in their own work.

When Atsushi finally drifted back into reality, he noticed… a raccoon? Sitting right there on the table. What was a raccoon even doing at school?

Even stranger, someone had clipped adorable little hairpins onto its fur, and the girls around it were squealing with delight, snapping photos from every angle.

Atsushi’s distraction didn’t go unnoticed. Without warning, his partner jabbed an elbow into his ribs—not too hard, but sharp enough to make him flinch. The pain was sharper than it should have been, almost unbearable.

“Focus on your work,” the dark-haired boy muttered. “And stop pretending it hurts.”

But it did hurt. Atsushi just couldn’t bring himself to admit it.

They stayed there for hours, yet Nakajima barely made it halfway through his assigned pages before it was time to leave. Akutagawa simply told him to finish the rest by next week.

So much for teamwork. In truth, there was hardly any point in meeting up. The project had already been divided into separate tasks. How was Atsushi supposed to get closer to the dark-haired boy if things went on like this?

On the way home, that was all he could think about.

At least his father still wasn’t back.

After a quick dinner, Atsushi set out to patrol the city once more. Tonight, just like the previous night, he wouldn’t be stopping by Ryuunosuke’s place. Another evening spent keeping his distance, no matter how much a part of him wished otherwise.

And once again, dawn broke. The boy sat on the roof of an abandoned building, watching the city wake beneath a soft wash of morning light.

The sky glowed pink and gold, mist rising from the streets like ghostly threads. From up here, everything felt calm like the world was holding its breath.

“Time for school,” he thought, pushing himself up and leaving the quiet beauty behind.

That morning, something caught Atsushi off guard. When he greeted the dark-haired boy at the lockers, he actually answered. Just one word, nothing more. But to Atsushi, it was huge. A real step forward.

His mood instantly lifted. The day moved on as usual… until just before physics class.

That’s when the first explosion hit.

The sound tore through the air, followed by another, then another, from different parts of the city. Panic rippled down the hallways. Students gasped, shouted, clutched at one another. Nakajima froze, his body tense, instincts flaring. Something was wrong, terribly wrong.

The blasts kept coming, rattling the windows, shaking the floor.

Then Mori’s voice crackled through the school radio:

“Emergency situation! Everyone, proceed to the safe zone! I repeat—everyone, proceed to the safe zone immediately!”

Atsushi’s stomach dropped.

And then it happened. An explosion erupted right next to the school.

A wave of fire and dust ripped across the courtyard just outside the school, rattling windows and shattering glass. The lights flickered once before dying, plunging the halls into darkness. Screams and panicked cries echoed all around. Though the blast hadn’t struck the building directly, the shockwave slammed into Atsushi, nearly knocking him off his feet. He staggered but managed to stay upright, chest heaving, heart pounding.

“Damn… the building’s damaged,” he thought, hearing the shrill wail of the fire alarm pierce the chaos.

Spider-Man was needed right now. There was no time to hesitate.

With determination hardening his expression, Atsushi sprinted down an empty corridor, the air heavy with smoke and dust. In one swift motion, he slipped into his Spider-Man suit, the fabric clinging tight as if it were a second skin. A blur of movement followed as he left the darkened school behind, launching himself toward the epicenter of the nearest explosion.

The sight that greeted him was horrifying. Black smoke curled toward the sky, blotting out the morning light. Flames licked the edges of crumbling buildings. People had died here. Many. Far more than Atsushi had ever imagined. His stomach tightened with guilt. He had failed. Because of him, lives were lost.

As he reached the smoking ruins, something loomed ahead. A robot, similar to the one he had fought a couple of days ago, hovered in the air, scanning the devastation below with a low mechanical hum. This one was smaller, sleeker, but no less dangerous.

The instant it detected him, the hovering sphere shifted. Metal rippled across its surface, reshaping with uncanny precision until a massive, gleaming fist extended outward. In a split second, the robot lunged forward, the fist striking with bone-crushing force.

The blow hurled Atsushi through the air, sending him hurtling down the entire length of the street before he crashed violently into the side of a bank building, debris exploding around him as he hit.

Students standing outside the school caught sight of him, their shocked faces breaking into cheers. Just like on his first day here, they were excited to see the masked hero. But there was no time for smiles now. This was life and death.

Pain radiated through his body. Atsushi was not in the best shape for a fight, and the robot wasn’t giving him a second to recover.

In a swift motion, its smooth, metallic form shifted, reshaping into a dagger before launching straight toward Atsushi’s head.

The hero ducked sharply, intending for the machine to slam into the wall behind him, giving him a chance to trap it in webs right after.

But what he didn’t expect… was that it wasn’t aiming for his head at all.

At the very last moment, the trajectory changed. The blade drove deep into his chest, striking with brutal force.

“How—?”

His suit was supposed to be nearly indestructible.

Then it hit him. The dagger hadn’t pierced the fabric at all. No— it had latched on.

“What the hell?!”

Atsushi gripped the metallic shard with both hands, straining to pull it free, but it refused to budge.

“What’s happening?”

The moment he tried again, something inside his arms twitched. An alien movement rippled through them.

Control slipped from his fingers—literally.

Panic set in as his body began to move on its own.

It wasn’t just a weapon. It was a parasite.

The robot’s nanotech had seeped into his own, merging seamlessly with the fibers of his suit until there was no telling where one ended and the other began.

From the outside, everything looked normal, no sign of damage. But inside, the systems were no longer his.

The controls slipped from his grasp, every command overridden. His body jerked forward against his will, muscles responding to impulses he hadn’t sent.

Someone else was wearing his suit now. Someone was moving him like a puppet.

“Damn it!” the hero shouted, grateful he could still speak, still see.

Atsushi fought back with everything he had, but his legs betrayed him, dragging him toward the school. No. No, no, no.

In a sudden blur, he stood before a crowd of his fans, innocent, smiling, completely unaware of the horror unfolding.

His arm rose. A strike. The blow landed squarely across a student’s face, knocking him out cold. Gasps tore through the air as fear spread like wildfire.

“It’s not me!” Atsushi cried. But no one heard him.

The crowd broke apart in terror, scattering in all directions, while his body kept moving, kept attacking. Punches, kicks, webbing flung around terrified students, pinning them to the ground.

Atsushi’s nanotech suit had been built to sync with his glands, letting him control the webbing that fired from his wrists. On his own, he could never manage it. It always ended in disaster. That’s why the suit had felt like his greatest achievement. But now… now he hated himself for ever creating it, for giving his enemy the means to control his webbing.

“Please, listen to me! I’m not in control!” Nakajima’s voice cracked, breaking into tears. These innocent people were suffering because of him.

Then his gaze fell on Ryuunosuke, limping out of the school building. The shockwave from the blast had clearly hit him hard.

Yet when he saw the hero, he smiled, relieved.

No. Please, no. Not him. Not now. Not like this.

But the suit didn’t care. It drove him forward, lashing out at more students while Ryuunosuke’s smile faded into confusion, then dread.

And then, before Atsushi could even blink, he was standing right in front of him.

The suit didn’t stop at one blow.

Ryuunosuke collapsed to the ground, blood trickling from his nose. Atsushi pinned him down, straddling his chest, fists slamming down—again, again, again, again.

“Ryuunosuke!” the hero screamed, voice cracking with desperation.

“It’s not me! I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I can’t control myself!” Atsushi sobbed, staring at the trembling body beneath him.

The dark-haired boy tried to defend himself, but his strength was slipping away.

And then, finally, the suit froze. His voice was swallowed up as well.

Leaving Ryuunosuke behind, his body turned toward the city center, striking down more citizens along the way.

Pain burned deep in his chest. Atsushi fought with every shred of willpower, but nothing worked. He could hear terrified screams, see faces twisted in fear.

His body tore through buildings. His webbing stretched across the city, clinging to streets and walls, leaving a chaotic trail in its wake.

Cameras locked onto him from every angle.

“The hero’s lost his mind! What’s happened to Spider-Man? Stay tuned for more!” reporters shouted from helicopters hovering above, voices echoing over the devastation.

At last, his body stopped at a major intersection. No matter how loudly Atsushi screamed, no one could hear him.

Then, suddenly, Spider-Man’s voice spoke—but it wasn’t his own.

“I refuse to protect this rotten, decaying city any longer. I’m done being a hero. All those bombs? I planted them. And from now on, I intend to commit far greater crimes.

None of you ever stopped to think about my state of mind. Time and again, I saved you, yet received nothing in return. I’ve had enough. I despise every fool living in this city, every blind believer who thinks all their burdens can be dumped onto a hero’s shoulders.

While you stuffed your faces, I suffered. Now it’s your turn to suffer.”

What the hell…? That wasn’t him. That wasn’t his voice!

Come on! Doesn’t anyone realize this isn’t him?!

But the cameras caught every word. And now, police officers were aiming their weapons at the hero.

Atsushi’s anger boiled over, burning like acid in his veins. This couldn’t go on. He would make the bastard behind this pay.

Nakajima unleashed the ability he had kept hidden for so long. Normally, the suit allowed him to control the webbing from his wrists with precision, but this power, this one, was beyond what the nanotech could handle.

Taking a deep breath, Atsushi let the fire within him awaken. His body heated rapidly, unnaturally, until smoke and sparks burst from the seams of the suit.

Then, rage exploding, he released too much at once.

A blinding blast tore through the air. The suit dissolved, its surface melting under the heat as thick smoke poured out, covering the streets in a choking gray haze.

At last, Atsushi was free.

He sprinted away, every movement sharp and desperate. The smoke cloaked his escape, hiding him from the cameras, the police, and the horrified crowd.

The air shimmered with deadly heat, waves of it radiating off his body. Yet, through sheer effort, he managed to keep his school uniform from burning away, though it was scorched and torn, it still clung to him.

Thankfully, no one was hurt. The crowd had sensed something was wrong and backed away in time, keeping a safe distance before the blast erupted.

Atsushi disappeared into the darkness.

“What… what was that?!” the scientist shouted, hands trembling over a panel filled with blinking buttons. Static crackled across the screen.

“He got out,” the man replied calmly, his tone sharp, deliberate.

“But how?! It’s a nanosuit… And I had full control!” the scientist protested, voice cracking under the weight of disbelief.

“Relax. Everything we needed from him, we already got. You’ve done excellent work,” the man said, though his voice carried an edge. “Still… the way he broke free, it intrigues me. I suspect the hero has been hiding something… something even we didn’t foresee.”

“Does that mean I’m free?” 

“For now, yes,” he replied, leaning in just enough to let his words sting. “But if I need you again, I’ll find you. Tell me… do you feel no guilt for what we’ve done? For breaking a hero who has protected this city for years?”

“Not at all. Like you said, the world will be better off without him. And now, I can finally return to my work… without the shadow of Spider-Man looming over me,” the expert answered, a hint of grim satisfaction in his voice.

“I’m glad you see things my way.” 

“Was it really necessary to attack children at a school?” he suddenly asked.

In response, there was only an oppressive silence. Then, after a long second, the answer came.

“Of course. News spreads faster that way. And besides—this school is rather famous…Your son goes there too, doesn’t he?”

Damn. He knew that as well.

“Yes.” 

“Such a shame about that limping boy, though. He suffered the most. Wrong place, wrong time, as they say.” The man kept smiling, clearly savoring the spectacle.

“I was simply following your orders,” the expert muttered.

“Yes… It’s a shame we didn’t get control over the audio. I would’ve loved to hear the hero’s real voice… hear how he must have sobbed in despair while beating those children.” The dark figure began to laugh softly.

“My apologies! But his voice modulator would have prevented us from hearing his true voice anyway. And we couldn’t see inside the suit. Still, I managed to gain control of his voice, which was far more important for the mission.”

“Yes, but it was too late. Who knows what he said to those kids?! You should have silenced him from the very start!”

The scientist felt goosebumps crawl up his arms as the man’s voice rose, sharp and cutting. He needed to leave. Now.

“Again, my apologies for not meeting your expectations, but it was an honor to work with you, Dostoyevsky,” he said, already moving toward the door. A lie.

In truth, he never wanted to deal with this man again.

“Go back to your son,” Dostoyevsky said with a cutting, sarcastic smile.

It was clearly a warning.

Chapter Text

School was canceled for several days. The damage had been too severe.

All night, Atsushi lay awake, feeling as if the weight of the entire world had settled on his chest. It wasn’t just physical pain; his whole being ached with guilt and exhaustion. His stomach twisted into painful knots, and more than once, the stress left him dizzy, on the verge of fainting.

He didn’t eat. He didn’t drink. The only light in the room came from the television, its pale glow washing over his tired face as the same news reports played again and again.

“I say we should capture Spider-Man immediately—before he causes any more destruction! You’ve seen his power. We can’t let this continue.”

“I can understand him to a point, but beating children? Destroying the city? That crossed the line. He could’ve simply stepped down. His fans would’ve stood by him.”

“Ungrateful?! He deserves to be punished for those words alone!…”

The voices clashed on air, sharp and relentless, echoing the turmoil inside his head. Each opinion felt like a blade, digging deeper into his conscience.

Then, an image rose unbidden—dark hair, sharp eyes.

Damn it.

Atsushi drew his knees to his chest, curling in on himself as soft, broken sobs spilled into the quiet of his home. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t shake the vision of Akutagawa’s bloodied face.

That was how the night passed, slow, merciless, and heavy. He didn’t even notice when the darkness began to fade, until the first pale rays of dawn slipped gently across the floor of his room.

He would have his revenge. He would kill the one responsible. The one who had pulled the strings would pay for everything. Too many lives had been lost, too many people had suffered. Hope was slipping through their fingers, replaced by anger, anger directed at him.

Once again, Atsushi had ruined everything. Not even the hero’s suit could shield him from the truth now. He was a disaster.

With great effort, Nakajima pushed himself up from the cold floor, his body trembling. He drew a shaky breath, forcing his legs to move. He had to see Ryuunosuke.

For half an hour, no one had answered the door. That meant Ryuunosuke wasn’t home.
There was only one option left.

Me: Where are you?

The message didn’t even go through. After a brief pause, Atsushi dialed another number.

Me: Hey, Gin. I was wondering where Ryuunosuke is right now.

Gin: Hi, Atsushi. He’s at the hospital. I’ll send you the address. Could you grab his favorite pastries on your way? I forgot and only managed to bring him some clothes.

Me: Of course.

And so he did.

Now, all that was left was to open that white door. The hospital smelled faintly of antiseptic and fresh linen, its walls a sterile shade of white that seemed almost too bright under the humming fluorescent lights. Footsteps echoed softly along the polished floors, and the distant beeping of monitors blended with hushed voices from nearby rooms.

As he walked, televisions blared news about Spider-Man, and snippets of conversations reached his ears, patients debating whether the masked hero was a menace or a savior. The noise swirled around him, each voice pulling at his thoughts until his head began to spin.

The nurse had guided him through the long corridors, each one feeling colder and quieter than the last, until he stood before the door of Ryuunosuke's room.

But he still couldn’t bring himself to go in. God, why was it so hard?

Come on. Just open the door.

He was still standing by the entrance, his shadow stretching across the white door. Then, suddenly, a loud crash echoed from beyond the wall. Had something happened to Akutagawa?

Panic gripped him, and he quickly pushed the door open. Inside was a surprisingly cozy room. On the bed, sitting with his back to the door, was Ryuunosuke. His head and leg were wrapped in bandages, and from what Atsushi could see, his hands were covered as well.

He was staring out the window, where a cat sat perched on the ledge, watching him intently. The little creature looked oddly adorable, as if keeping him company.

“Gin, I told you not to come—” the dark-haired boy’s voice faltered as his eyes met Atsushi’s, eyes full of pain.

“Hi,” was all Atsushi managed to say.

“Come in,” Ryuunosuke replied.

Nakajima did as he was told. Closing the door quietly behind him, he sat on a chair beside the bed, placing the box of cakes carefully on his lap.

“I brought you something sweet,” the white-haired boy said softly.

Ryuunosuke’s gaze lingered on him for a long moment before he replied, “Thanks. Put them on the table.”

Atsushi obeyed in silence.

An awkward stillness settled between them, heavy and unspoken. Shame coiled in Atsushi’s chest, after all, it was by his hands that the boy had suffered so much. A part of him wished he could vanish, die right there and then, but he forced himself to keep pretending everything was fine.

“What was that loud crash I heard earlier?” he asked, trying to spark a conversation.

“That cat was annoying me,” Akutagawa replied, his eyes fixed on the window. “I threw a plastic cup at the window, hoping it would scare it away. But the cup just bounced off the glass and made a noise.”

The cat outside continued to lick its paws, utterly unbothered, then stretched lazily in the warm sunlight.

“I see…” Atsushi murmured.

It was oddly amusing. Did Akutagawa really dislike cats? Or was it because this one was pure white, sitting so still, staring at them with its large, pitch-black eyes that oddly resembled the mask of Spider-Man as it went through its little routine?

The sight was strangely eerie…

“Listen, Atsushi…” Ryuunosuke began, lowering his head slightly.

“Yes?” the white-haired boy replied quickly. It wasn’t often Akutagawa spoke to him without an insult. Now his tone carried something different, serious yet calm at the same time.

“There’s something that’s been bothering me.”

“What is it?”

“How does Spider-Man know my name?”

Damn. In a rush of emotion, Spider-Man had called him Ryuunosuke. Damn it. Back when his body was being controlled, he’d tried to explain himself to the dark-haired boy and hadn’t noticed the slip. Akutagawa had never told the hero his name.

“Maybe you just imagined it?” Atsushi offered weakly.

Ryuunosuke immediately lifted his gaze, fixing him with a sharp, piercing stare. The silence that followed was heavy, suffocating. His eyes studied Atsushi’s face, then swept over his entire figure before returning to lock on his eyes once more.

“Any normal person would’ve asked something like, ‘What do you mean?’…” Akutagawa said slowly. “But you asked if I imagined it. Don’t you think that’s strange? As if… you know something.”

Panic tightened in Atsushi’s chest again. It was his state, he couldn’t think straight. Normally, he calculated everything perfectly. But now? Another mistake. What was Akutagawa trying to do?

“Why do you look so tear-stained and exhausted? And your voice… it sounds different. Did Did something happen yesterday?” the boy on the bed pressed, his tone like a quiet interrogation.

“Me? What? No! I’m fine. Just tired and… I got caught in the blast yesterday too,” Atsushi replied, forcing himself to sound convincing, though his voice wavered.

“I always knew you were a good liar. From the very first day. You’re always hiding something, always pretending. I almost believed your act myself. But when you yelled at me in the corridor, I saw it—your true self. I saw your real emotions,” Akutagawa began, his gaze burning into Atsushi.

“I’m not stupid. Why is it that every time you disappear, Spider-Man shows up? Why do your jokes sound like his? Why is your build so muscular? Why did you hate attention so much? Why do you dislike the smell of cigarettes, just like he does?”

Panic rose like a tide inside Atsushi. What should he do? Run? Keep pretending? Think of a new excuse?

But Akutagawa didn’t stop.

“You didn’t find out about my sweet tooth from Gin, did you? I asked her when she came to visit. We’ve made up, by the way," he paused briefly. "You were the one who told me not to keep her caged. And you knew more about me than Higuchi ever did.… Listen, open your shirt.”

Atsushi froze, stunned. Fuck. He’d been found out. He’d revealed too much, let too many things slip. And now Ryuunosuke had pieced it all together.

But Nakajima didn’t know what to do, so he stayed silent, staring down at the floor.

“Not going to? Is it because of the bruises?” came the quiet voice from the bed.

Tears welled up in Atsushi’s eyes. He was so tired. So tired of pretending. So tired of being a problem, a mistake, an unwanted burden.

Soft sobs filled the room.

Ryuunosuke watched the trembling of his shoulders and listened to his pitiful sobs. The dark-haired boy couldn’t move much himself, and Atsushi sat just far enough away to be out of reach. The only thing he had to offer were his words.

“I’m not angry with you.”

The sobs grew louder.

“I believe you. I know you wouldn’t have done this on purpose.”

After that, he sat quietly, listening as the boy on the chair finally let go of his emotions in the most human way possible.

Meanwhile, only one thought kept circling through Atsushi’s mind: He doesn’t hate me.

And that was enough. Let the rest of the world despise him. He was simply glad that this boy wasn’t angry at him.

When Atsushi finally calmed down, their conversation continued in a gentler tone.

Ryuunosuke asked Nakajima to open the box of pastries for him.

The tips of his fingers were left uncovered, but the rest of his hands were wrapped so tightly in bandages that he couldn’t bend his palms, making it nearly impossible to open the box. The helplessness irritated him more than he cared to admit.

As Atsushi carefully unwrapped the box, he began explaining what had happened to his suit and how he’d managed to escape.

There was no point in hiding anything anymore.

And it felt… good. So good to finally share this secret with someone. He had carried it alone for so long.

“So… you can heat things up to high temperatures?” the dark-haired boy asked, struggling to grab his favorite pie.

“Yeah, something like that…” Atsushi replied, watching Ryuunosuke’s clumsy attempts. After a moment, he stood and moved closer to the bed.

“Let me help,” he said, pulling his chair nearer and spearing a piece of the dessert with a fork, holding it out toward Ryuunosuke’s mouth.

The dark-haired boy stared at him, clearly conflicted.

“I’m not a child, idiot. And I’m still mad about that night when you dragged me through the air on your web…” Ryuunosuke growled.

Atsushi couldn’t help but chuckle softly. The bruises under his eyes didn’t match the faint smile tugging at his lips.

“It was kind of funny, princess.”

“You—!” Ryuunosuke started to shout, but Atsushi quickly shoved the bite of cake into his mouth, cutting him off.

“Easy, easy.”

Ryuunosuke’s glare could have burned holes through steel as he angrily chewed the dessert.

“Honestly… I kind of liked spending time with you while I was in the hero suit,” Atsushi admitted quietly.

Finally swallowing the bite, Ryuunosuke replied.

“Me too,” Ryuunosuke said calmly. “I often caught myself thinking about your next visit, to be honest… Though your behavior did annoy me!”

“Sorry!” Atsushi blurted out.

“Then why did you act like such a jerk at school?” Akutagawa asked suddenly.

“What? Ah… well, it’s just… I guess I was hurt. I wanted you to be friends with me too, not just with Spider-Man… So I got upset,” Nakajima confessed uncertainly.

“I see. And I suppose you ditched cleaning the gym because you were off saving the city?”

“Yeah… Sorry about that too.”

“Do you even sleep?”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“Um… well…”

“Thought so.”

Atsushi had no idea what to say, so he simply offered Ryuunosuke another piece of cake. This time, the dark-haired boy ate it quietly. He must have been hungry.

“So… where’s your phone? Why aren’t my messages reaching you?” Atsushi asked once Ryuunosuke had nearly finished all the desserts.

“The nurses have it. I don’t know why they won’t give it back…” he replied, licking his lips, and Atsushi’s eyes followed the motion.

“I see.”

They still had plenty of time to talk—about all their late-night meetings, the emotions that came with them, and everything they had been through.

So they stayed there for quite a while. Maybe now they could even be considered friends. Or maybe Nakajima was simply trying to run from his real problems, from his fears and helplessness.

But the time spent with Ryuunosuke in that hospital room felt priceless, even with the frequent awkward silences between them.

“When will they discharge you?” Atsushi asked.

“In a couple of days, I think. After all, exams aren’t going to wait,” the dark-haired boy replied.

Atsushi’s face twisted in disbelief. How could this guy still be thinking about exams?

After that, they quietly said their goodbyes. Before stepping out, Nakajima glanced at the window, only to find the cat gone. Then came the soft click of the door closing behind him.

Atsushi made his way home, a small smile tugging at his lips. He should probably start working on a new suit soon. Yet he wasn’t sure whether society was ready to accept him again.

Did that mean he could finally relax a little? Be selfish, let himself rest? He didn’t know.

But saving lives… that always came first.

So would it be right to stop thinking about it, even for a moment?

The white-haired boy had no answer.

“Where have you been?!”

His father was back, and he hadn’t returned with open arms.

Blood trickled from Atsushi’s nose, running into his mouth. The sharp metallic taste was all he could feel on his tongue.

“So you think that just because I’m gone, you can come and go as you please?!”

Another strike of the belt. His cheek burned. His father had never before marked his face like this.

Maybe it was because school had been canceled for a few days. Or maybe Atsushi could have just pretended to be hurt in the explosion.

“How dare you disobey me, you ungrateful brat!”

The beating continued. The belt wasn’t the worst thing his father used as a weapon. But Atsushi hardly cared about the pain anymore.

He didn’t cry. He just endured, waiting for it to end.

Maybe… maybe he could tell Akutagawa about this?

Isn't that what friends do? Share everything with each other?

But… could they really be called friends yet?

A sharp kick slammed into his ribs, forcing the air from his lungs. Blood filled his mouth as his vision blurred, dark spots creeping in from the edges.

He wasn’t sure what happened after that, everything faded into black.

The last thing he managed to hold onto was the image of Akutagawa’s faint smile…how strangely comforting it was.

He wanted to run back to Ryuunosuke. He truly did.

But the pain kept him in place.

Pain so sharp it felt endless.

Atsushi drifted in and out of consciousness through the night, only to be dragged back each time into the same cycle of pain. His father never calmed down. And by dawn, he appeared again, this time with a hammer and nails in hand.

Something had clearly set him off, and now Atsushi was the outlet for his anger.

Nakajima lay on the floor, helpless. His father grabbed his ankle and forced his foot upright.

A sharp clang of metal rang out, followed by a scream that split the quiet morning.

The nail was stuck in his foot. The pain was unbearable, and just looking at it made his stomach turn.

“Try leaving the house again, and see what happens,” his father muttered before finally walking away.

Atsushi needed to get up. He needed to stop the bleeding. He needed to see Ryuunosuke.

But his body was so weak.

…Had Akutagawa gotten his phone back by now? If so, maybe he could call him. Maybe there was still a chance.

But first, he had to get the nail out.

With a deep breath, Nakajima tore it free in one quick motion. Blood spilled from his heel.

He bit down hard on his arm to muffle the cry rising in his throat. The last thing he wanted was for his father to come back.

Blood spread across the floor like water.

Fighting off the dizziness, Nakajima dragged himself up the stairs toward his room, leaving a trail of red behind him.

He’d have to clean that up later.

Thankfully, the door to his room was already ajar. He slipped inside and immediately pulled the first-aid kit from beneath his desk.

He was lucky, in a way: his body healed faster than most. But even that small mercy couldn’t dull the agony that consumed him.

Reaching into his pocket, he realized with a jolt that his phone was still there. His hands shook as he pulled it out.

The dial tone rang. Once. Twice.

“What do you want, idiot?” His voice was like that of someone who had just woken up.

Atsushi almost smiled through the pain. He was so relieved to hear that voice. It seemed Ryuunosuke had finally gotten his phone back. What a relief.

“Hey,” he rasped into the phone.

“What happened?” There was a trace of worry in Ryuunosuke’s voice.

“Nothing. Just… can you stay on the line with me?”

“…Alright.”

“Thanks,” Atsushi whispered, swallowing down a couple of painkillers.

After a long minute of silence, broken only by Atsushi’s ragged breaths as he cleaned and bandaged his wounds, Ryuunosuke finally asked, “How do you plan to win back your reputation as a hero?”

“I haven’t really thought about it yet.” Maybe the raven-haired boy just wanted to distract him with questions, or maybe he was genuinely curious.

“Are you… going to Kyōka’s party?”

“What?”

“The party.”

“Oh… Honestly, I was planning to spend that day protecting the city. But now I don’t even have my costume. And everyone thinks I’m a villain.”

“I think it would be better for you to rest a little after exams. You should go.”

“…Wait, are you saying you’ll be there too?”

“I don’t really like places like that,” Ryuunosuke admitted, “but Gin insists.”

“By the way… how did you two make up?” Atsushi asked, trying to ignore the sharp pain in his head. Talking to Ryuunosuke felt strangely comforting. Not long ago, they could hardly exchange a few words. Was it really just because Atsushi turned out to be Spider-Man? If he weren’t…would Ryuunosuke even be speaking to him like this now?

“I just told her she could do whatever she wanted. And she seems happy enough with that idiot Tachihara. That’s all.”

Ryuunosuke’s voice cut through Atsushi’s restless thoughts.

“I see.”

Silence followed, but it wasn’t heavy. It felt oddly calming. Atsushi’s mind grew hazy, and within moments, he drifted off to sleep.

Chapter Text

Deep down, he had suspected it all along. Yet the signs had seemed too faint, too scattered…like something essential was missing.

And then, as he lay sprawled on the cold ground, those all-too-familiar hands striking him again and again, he heard Spider-Man call his name. In that instant, the truth crashed down on him with merciless clarity.

But it was already too late. Darkness was closing in, and he was losing consciousness.

When Ryuunosuke finally woke in a stark hospital room, the sterile scent of disinfectant sharp in the air, it took him a long while to piece together what had happened.

His mind felt like it was splitting apart.

How could he have missed it before? The truth had been right in front of his eyes.

Did this really mean he had forged a connection with Atsushi, of all people? With the very person he thought he couldn’t stand?

So that meant… Atsushi had seen his bare chest back then? God, how utterly humiliating.

With a shaky breath, his bandaged hands moved up to cover his face.

Everything suddenly felt unbearably tangled, far too complicated.

And how was he even supposed to act around Atsushi now?

Yet, to his surprise, things went far better than he had expected.

Of course, he had probably been far too blunt when he revealed Nakajima’s hidden identity. The fact that he was, in truth, the well-known hero.

But in reality, Ryuunosuke had only been testing his suspicions. He had needed proof, something undeniable. The white-haired boy’s reaction told him all he needed to know.

And now, he was likely the only one who knew Nakajima’s secret.

So when Atsushi called him early the next morning, Ryuunosuke immediately sensed something was wrong.

His voice was too weak, too pitiful. And honestly, who would want someone to just sit on the phone with them at such an hour? Clearly, something had happened, and Akutagawa found himself trying to help in the only way he could.

He tried to distract him with questions.

And then, when Atsushi suddenly went quiet, Ryuunosuke realized he had fallen asleep. Great.

The dark-haired boy didn’t want to hang up. After all, he had promised to stay by his side. So Akutagawa set the phone down beside him and decided to drift off as well. And it was Nakajima who had disturbed his sleep in the first place.

A dull thud.

Voice.

Footsteps.

Akutagawa’s eyes snapped open. He glanced around the room, but there was no one there.

Then what was that sound?

A deafening crash split the silence.

Lowering his head, Akutagawa glanced at his phone, where the call with “Toilet Lover” had been going on for hours.

What was going on over there?

Lifting the phone back to his ear, he listened closely.

“I’ve got things to take care of. Don’t go back to school until those wounds look natural enough. You understand me?” a harsh male voice ordered.

“Yes,” Atsushi answered quietly.

Damn it.

Ryuunosuke panicked, his finger hovering over the red button to end the call, but something stopped him.

The slam of a door. A rustling noise. Then nothing.

“You… you heard all that?” Atsushi’s voice broke the silence, louder now, almost startled. He clearly hadn’t realized the call was still connected.

It was clear Nakajima hadn’t wanted Ryuunosuke to hear that.

“Sorry,” was all the raven-haired boy could manage.

Could it be… that those wounds on the boy’s body weren’t just from constantly protecting the city?

“It’s nothing. I… I have to go.”

It sounded like he wanted to be alone. A moment later, the line went dead, and Ryuunosuke was left staring silently at the screen.

Classes had already resumed, but Atsushi still hadn’t returned. His classmates kept asking about him, wondering how he was doing.

Ryuunosuke, however, only feigned ignorance.

During the break, the school had been patched up so well that not a trace of the destruction remained. The walls were spotless, the glass replaced, the corridors gleaming with an almost forced sense of normalcy.

Everything slowly settled back into its rhythm. The halls grew noisy again, filled with laughter and idle chatter, as if nothing had happened. Mori, in his usual detached manner, provided financial compensation to the injured students, enough to cover their treatment.

But for Ryuunosuke, the calm felt hollow. With exams only a few days away, everyone else seemed to be preparing, while he found his thoughts circling back to Atsushi.

All he could really do was send his notes, one after another, hoping they might help. Each time he checked his phone, there was no response, just silence. It left him restless, uncertain if Atsushi even read them.

Days blurred together like that. Then, finally, one morning, he appeared.

There were faint scratches across his face, with a few plasters stuck here and there, one stretching across his cheek. Yet he smiled, brushing off the barrage of questions from his classmates with a lightness that didn’t reach his eyes.

But Ryuunosuke saw through it at once, saw the false cheer, the flimsy excuses that fooled everyone else.

After the first lesson, he finally approached him.

“Hey,” Akutagawa said quietly, his gaze locked on the boy.

“Hey,” Nakajima answered, calm on the surface. “Thanks for the notes. They really helped.” He spoke while turning away, unable to meet those sharp black eyes.

“Are you… alright?”

The question seemed to catch Atsushi off guard. He blinked at him stupidly for a few seconds, as if trying to process the words.

“Ah—yeah! I’m fine! You don’t need to worry about me…”

What an idiot.

Ryuunosuke reached out and took his wrist, so carefully it was almost hesitant, as if he feared even the lightest touch might hurt him, and pulled him along.

Only then did he notice the way Atsushi flinched with every step, the faint stiffness in his movements. Walking clearly caused him pain. What on earth had happened to him?

“Ryuunosuke, where are you taking me? We have literature next…”

“Screw literature. And screw Dazai too.” Akutagawa’s voice was sharp, yet his steps slowed as he led Atsushi up to the third floor, matching his pace so it would be easier for him to follow.

When they stopped at the door, Atsushi looked up at him in confusion.

“Physics class? Why here?” he asked, bewildered, his unease clear in the way his voice faltered.

Akutagawa didn’t answer. He pushed the door open and stepped inside, tossing a brief greeting to Chuuya, who was busy stuffing a pile of documents into a folder.

“Something wrong, Akutagawa?” the teacher asked, raising a brow. His eyes flicked to Atsushi and then, just for a moment, dropped, like he’d caught sight of something interesting.

Shit.

Ryuunosuke instantly let go of Nakajima’s wrist and moved forward, placing himself between them without thinking.

They locked eyes for a long moment. Something in Chuuya’s expression shifted—subtle, but telling. He had understood.

“In return, clean this place up,” the teacher said at last, brushing past them on his way out.

“What? In return for what?” Atsushi asked, still completely lost.

The door clicked shut behind Chuuya. Silence filled the room.

Without a word, Ryuunosuke crossed to the corner, grabbed a rag and a bucket, and began to clean.

“In return for us skipping class and hiding out here,” he muttered eventually, moving quickly as if determined to finish before Atsushi could press further.

Nakajima’s thoughts were spinning. What the hell was going on?

But then he noticed how calmly Akutagawa moved, wiping the desks with a steady hand, his dark hair catching the sunlight that streamed through the tall windows. Dust shimmered in the golden rays around him, outlining his sharp profile as if he belonged to another world entirely. For a moment, Atsushi simply stared, struck by how composed he looked in the quiet of the empty classroom.

Something stirred inside him, a quiet pull, a sense that he, too, should lend a hand.

With a sigh, Atsushi picked up another cloth and joined in.

Together, they wiped dust from desks and watered the plants by the window, their silence oddly heavy yet not entirely uncomfortable.

“Akutagawa…” Atsushi finally spoke up, hesitating. “Why are you even doing this? Won’t Dazai dock you points?”

“I don’t care.”

“…So what is it, then? Do you want something from me?”

“Just relax.”

“How am I supposed to relax when you just stay silent and do who-knows-what?!” Atsushi’s voice rose, edged with frustration.

Akutagawa’s hand, halfway across the blackboard with the rag, stilled.

“Again,” he said quietly.

“What?” Atsushi blinked, confused.

“Do it again. Let it out.”

“What are you even talking about?”

“Stop pretending. It pisses me off. If you want to yell, then yell. If you want to say something, then say it!”

“I…” Atsushi’s throat tightened, the words clawing their way up but refusing to come out.

Akutagawa turned to face him fully, his dark eyes softened with a rare kind of understanding.

“I’m sorry I found out more than I should have. I’m sorry if I’m pushing you too hard. But… you can trust me. Because I trust you too…”

Something inside Atsushi snapped.

“No! You don’t trust me! You trust Spider-Man! Don’t you dare act like it’s the same thing!” His voice cracked as it spilled into a shout.

“Why do you keep separating yourself from Spider-Man?” Akutagawa asked, calm yet firm. “Don’t you realize—you are the same person?”

“What the hell would you know?! People always accepted him! He was perfect! He was needed!” Atsushi’s eyes burned, his fists clenched at his sides. “And me… I was never needed. I only ruin everything! Look at what’s happened again, now even the hero’s reputation is stained because of my carelessness!”

What kind of fucking nonsense was he saying?

“You’ve got to be kidding me! None of this is your fault, idiot! You and Spider-Man are the same person! You’re alike in every way, you’re one and the same!” Ryuunosuke’s voice rose, anger breaking through.

“That’s not true!”

“Oh, for god’s sake, what’s wrong with you?!”

“I don’t know!”

Akutagawa froze. The boy in front of him looked so utterly lost.

He set the rag he’d been holding onto the desk and stepped closer. In the next moment, he pulled Atsushi into his arms.

Akutagawa never liked being touched. But right then, he wanted to make it clear—he cared. He wanted Atsushi to know he mattered, that he wasn’t worthless.

Ryuunosuke had never been a good man. His hands were stained with too many sins, and next to the boy before him his own heart seemed nothing but shadow. Yet some part of him still ached to believe he could matter, that he could reach out and help, that he could save at least one soul. Even if that soul was Nakajima’s, even if it meant saving the boy from himself.

Slowly, Atsushi’s arms came up, hesitant at first, then rested lightly against Akutagawa in return. His hands were cold, and a faint shiver ran through Ryuunosuke at their touch.

Akutagawa was the first to pull away. He wasn’t used to holding someone for long. Only when he let go did he realize how unbearably awkward the moment had been.

“Uh… just forget that,” he muttered, picking the rag back up and returning to work. It smelled faintly of lavender soap.

He didn’t see Atsushi’s face. But the white-haired boy was smiling now, and this time, it was genuine.

Nakajima hadn’t thought he’d ever crawl out of the pit his thoughts dragged him into. They pulled him down, deeper and deeper, until it felt impossible to breathe.

But in that brief embrace, all he could focus on was the warmth of the body pressed against his own.

He had always been good at running away from problems. Maybe it was easier to forget them again?...Just for a little while?

His father was vanishing into the city more and more, leaving Atsushi in the house. In those quiet nights, he had already begun piecing together a new suit. Stronger, sharper, immune to the flaws of the old one. No one would ever be able to take control of it again.

The more he worked, the more restless his mind became. Doubt crept in, twisting even the fragile bond he had formed with Ryuunosuke. His body ached, his anger simmered, and yet, despite how much it hurt to return to school, he didn’t regret it for a moment.

All because of the boy in front of him, nervously wiping the blackboard. Maybe their connection was something real. Maybe it was something rare, something precious.

After that, everything seemed to speed up.

The class sank into preparation for exams, days blurring together in a haze of notes and whispered study sessions. Between it all, Atsushi’s suit took shape piece by piece. One evening, his father left the house, and to this day, he hadn’t come back.

Outside, the city hummed with tension. People still talked about Spider-Man as though he were everywhere, though crime had risen sharply in his absence. Still, the police seemed capable of holding the line, for now.

That thought calmed Nakajima. And besides, Ryuunosuke had told him more than once to stop carrying the weight of lives that weren’t his to save.

Of course, he couldn’t change overnight. But Atsushi was trying. For the first time in his life, he finally had someone close to him, someone he didn’t want to disappoint, even if he already had, countless times before.

Exams flew by in a blur.

And just as quickly, the night of the party arrived.

Eternal Prison

Kyōka: Tonight at my place! I’ll send everyone the address.

Tachihara: Finally, this hell is over. Time to relax.

Kenji: I’ve never been to such a big party before. I can’t wait!

When Atsushi received the address, he found himself standing in front of his wardrobe. His father still hadn’t returned, which meant he was free to go.

All he could do was hope that when he returned home, his father still wouldn’t be there.

But right now, there was a far more pressing question: What was he supposed to wear?

The truth was, his closet wasn’t filled with much. The only decent, presentable clothes he owned had been bought by his father for one humiliating purpose: whenever influential, well-known guests visited their home, Nakajima would be dressed up and made to play the role of a servant, silently attending to them like a waiter.

Those were dark times. Atsushi would rather not remember the sting of those nights, the false smiles, the shame.

And yet… the outfits themselves weren’t so bad. Maybe, just this once, he could make them his own.

So he did. He slipped into neatly pressed gray trousers that hung comfortably, not too tight, and a white turtleneck with a thin gold chain resting against his collar.

For a moment, he studied his reflection. The boy staring back at him wasn’t the servant his father forced him to be, nor the broken son who always disappointed. He looked… almost normal. Almost confident. And for the first time, the clothes felt like his.

After fixing his hair with a few careful strokes of the comb and pulling on his jacket, Atsushi finally stepped out of the house. The cool evening air greeted him, sharp and refreshing, carrying with it the faint buzz of the city.

Chapter Text

In front of him stood not just a house, but something closer to a mansion. Even Atsushi’s own home seemed tiny compared to the sheer size of this estate.

The iron gates were wide open.

As he lingered at the entrance, taking in the sight of the grand building and the carefully kept garden, girls in elegant dresses passed by, their laughter carrying through the evening air.

Atsushi stepped forward, crossing into unfamiliar territory. The trip here hadn’t been easy. The mansion was tucked far from the city, hidden away like something out of another world.

But Nakajima couldn’t quiet his thoughts. Again and again, he found himself worrying that while he was here, people in the city could be in danger.

He kept thinking about how he would explain himself to the public, how he might reclaim his title as a hero.

And yet… maybe taking a break wasn’t such a bad thing.

Maybe Ryunosuke had been right.

Maybe he really did need to stop carrying the weight of everyone else on his shoulders.

Still, deep down, Atsushi knew: once his new suit was finished, he would push himself harder than ever. He had to make up for his mistakes. Even if it meant skipping school to do it.

Lost in thought, the white-haired boy hardly noticed when he crossed the threshold into the mansion.

The moment he stepped inside, his classmates spotted him.

“Atsushi!” Kenji called out from the couch, waving him over. A cluster of other students followed suit, smiling and raising their hands in greeting.

As Atsushi made his way through the crowd toward them, his eyes kept drifting upward to the glittering chandelier above, then down to the ornate furniture polished to perfection.

The space felt endless, with a grand staircase rising toward the second floor and countless doors branching off into rooms he couldn’t even begin to imagine.

“Hey, guys!” Atsushi greeted, lifting a hand as he stepped closer. He slipped off his jacket and held it awkwardly in his arms.

The dark-haired boy was nowhere to be seen, but his sister was there, sitting comfortably on the spacious sofa in her elegant black dress, her hand resting in Tachihara’s as they chatted with the others.

“How do you like it here, Atsushi?” came Kyōka’s voice from behind.

Startled by her sudden appearance, Nakajima spun around a little too quickly.

“Hi, Kyōka! Everything’s so beautiful. I’m glad I came,” he answered with a small smile.

She wore a delicate lace dress, her long hair tied neatly into a single braid.

“You look wonderful tonight,” Atsushi admitted without thinking.

Her cheeks flushed instantly.

“Th-thank you… you look good too…” she murmured, almost shy.

Atsushi wasn’t sure he believed her. Compared to the others, dressed in bold, elegant outfits, he looked far too plain, and his clothes were the most modest of them all. But it was safer this way. No one would see the bruises and scars hidden beneath.

On the wide snow-white sofa, his classmates began whispering to one another. Thanks to his sharp hearing, Atsushi caught every word.

“They look pretty cute together.”

“Kyōka’s blushing so much! Adorable.”

“Just look at the height difference between them…”

Heat crept up Atsushi’s own face. Only then did he really notice the color in Kyōka’s cheeks.

“By the way, you can leave your jacket in the coatroom, right over there,” Kyōka said, pointing toward a door by the entrance.

“Got it, thanks,” Atsushi replied quickly, heading over.

Inside, he stopped short. A mountain of coats and jackets was piled high, and among them his eyes immediately caught on something familiar, an all-too-recognizable black coat.

Ryuunosuke was already here. But why hadn’t Atsushi seen him yet?

And honestly, how many coats did that guy even own? It was like he wore nothing else.

Leaving his own jacket behind, Atsushi decided to explore the mansion further.

Each room of the mansion seemed alive with students. The kitchen held a long buffet table, crowded with plates of food and drinks; the dining hall had been transformed into a gathering place where small groups laughed between bites. In another room, students were hunched over board games, the air thick with playful arguments and bursts of laughter.

Atsushi moved quickly, glancing into each space but careful not to disturb the clusters of friends enjoying themselves. There were simply too many rooms, too many people, and after a while, the white-haired boy decided to slip away in search of someplace quieter.

He took the stairs slowly, hoping not to draw anyone’s attention, and to his relief, no one seemed to notice him leave.

The second floor was quieter, almost hushed in comparison. Long corridors stretched out, lined with doors that led to bedrooms and shower rooms, each one neat and inviting in its own way. At the very end of the hall, a faint draft hinted at something else. A balcony, maybe?

When he stepped outside, a chill brushed against his face. But the air wasn’t fresh. It carried the sharp, heavy scent of smoke.

Leaning casually against the railing was Akutagawa, a cigarette resting between his lips. His dark eyes flicked up at the intrusion, meeting Atsushi’s gaze with calm annoyance.

He looked… striking. The black shirt he wore fit close to his frame, the dark trousers falling neatly around his hips and legs. For some reason Atsushi’s eyes caught on that detail longer than he meant them to, and he quickly looked away.

“So this is where you’ve been,” Atsushi said with a nervous smile, stepping closer to the railing but keeping his eyes fixed stubbornly on the view. The night air was colder than he expected, and for a brief moment he wondered if the dark-haired boy beside him wasn’t freezing as well

“Were you looking for me?” Ryuunosuke asked, exhaling a slow stream of smoke that curled into the night air.

“Ah… no, I just—” Atsushi stammered, words tumbling awkwardly.

“Relax,” Akutagawa cut in smoothly. “I was looking for you too. Someone told me you hadn’t shown up yet, so I thought maybe you wouldn’t bother.” His gaze stayed fixed on the glittering lights of the city in the distance, his tone casual, but there was something more beneath it.

“I see…” Atsushi murmured, letting his own eyes drift downward to the gardens below—until something caught his attention. A flicker of blue.

“There’s a pool here?!” Atsushi leaned over the railing, eyes widening at the sight of a massive pool below, glowing with soft blue lights

“Careful, or you’ll fall,” Ryuunosuke muttered, his tone more like he was scolding a reckless child.

The pool was empty, unsurprisingly. No one in their right mind would be swimming tonight, not with the freezing air biting at their skin.

“Don’t worry, I’m careful,” Atsushi said with a small grin.

“Have the teachers arrived yet?” Ryuunosuke asked.

“I didn’t see them downstairs.”

“Hmm.”

There was a pause, then Atsushi hesitated before blurting, “By the way… you do know who Dazai’s husband actually is, right?”

“What?”

“Well…”

“Wait—you know?”

“You don’t?”

“No.”

“Uh… then maybe I shouldn’t say anything.”

“Atsushi.” His tone dropped, dangerously low.

“A-are you sure you even want to know? I thought you didn’t care…”

“Nakajima.” The sound of his name was sharp, almost like a threat.

 “Alright, alright. It’s Chuuya.”

“…What?!” The shock was written all over his face.

Atsushi stayed quiet, giving him space to process.

“To be fair, they hid it well,” Akutagawa finally admitted, flicking the last ash from his cigarette. “But how do you know? Are you certain?”

 “I saw them kissing.”

“What?!” That look of disbelief again.

Atsushi bit his lip, trying not to laugh.

“God… Don’t you get nightmares?” Akutagawa muttered.

That was it, Atsushi burst out laughing, his voice echoing across the quiet balcony. His shoulders shook, his grip on the railing loosening too much.

The next second, his hands slipped.

Akutagawa reacted instantly, lunging forward to grab him, fingers brushing against his thigh, then his ankle. But Atsushi was already falling, the glowing water rushing up to meet him.

“Shit!”

Ryuunosuke managed to catch him, barely, but he hadn’t accounted for Atsushi’s weight.

He held on for three seconds.

Then both of them crashed into the pool with a deafening splash.

The pool was deeper than it looked. When the two finally broke the surface, gasping for air, silence fell over them. A beat later, the unpleasant weight of their soaked clothes sank in, fabric clinging heavy to their skin, making every movement feel sluggish and uncomfortable.

“‘Don’t worry, I’m very careful,’” Ryuunosuke mocked Atsushi’s earlier words, his voice dripping with sarcasm. His expression was nothing short of murderous.

“I’m sorry! But you didn’t have to fall in after me!” Atsushi shouted back, guilt written all over his face.

“Fuck you, idiot!” Ryuunosuke snapped, splashing a wave of water into his face.

“Hey! That’s not fair!” Atsushi yelled, splashing him back with equal force.

Within seconds, they were in a full-on splash war, water flying in every direction as they hurled insults between bursts of laughter and frustration. Neither of them backed down, each insult punctuated by another wave crashing into the other’s face.

“What’s going on here?” Kyōka’s voice cut through the chaos.

They froze instantly, turning to look at the girl. Most likely, she heard the noise and came to check.

“My God! Get out of there, you’ll freeze!” the girl said in a rush, her eyes wide with worry.

“It’s actually pretty warm in here,” Atsushi admitted.

Ryuunosuke didn’t bother replying, he climbed out of the pool in silence, his soaked clothes clinging tightly to his lean frame. Atsushi’s eyes lingered a little too long.

“Out, idiot,” Ryuunosuke muttered before heading inside.

Kyōka hurried them both upstairs to a bedroom. All eyes seemed to follow them as they passed through the house, and out of the corner of his eye Atsushi caught sight of Kunikida and Dazai.

So the teachers had arrived.

“You can dry your clothes with these,” Kyōka said gently, quickly handing each of them a hairdryer , “or borrow something from my wardrobe if you’d like.”

“I’m not spending the night in a dress. And your clothes wouldn’t fit me anyway,” Ryuunosuke grumbled, snatching the hairdryer from her hand. A second later the loud hum of the device filled the room as he began working on his hair.

“Thank you, Kyōka. And… sorry if we made you worry,” Atsushi said with a warm smile.

“It’s nothing, really! Anyway, I’ll leave you two to it. Come downstairs soon, we’re about to start a game.” She gave them a quick wave before shutting the door behind her.

Atsushi immediately locked it, making sure no one could walk in and see them half-dressed. Then, slipping into the bathroom, he shut the door again behind him. He didn’t want to undress anywhere near Ryuunosuke… and he especially didn’t want anyone to see the scars covering his body.

“Alright, guys, let’s kick off the game marathon!” Lucy cheered, her voice full of excitement.

They all moved into a separate room. Atsushi, still a little distracted, kept sneaking glances at Ryuunosuke. After drying their clothes and hair, the two of them had come downstairs together, saying nothing along the way.

“So, what—like cards and Monopoly?” Junichirou asked, raising a brow.

“Of course not! We’re playing like adults,” the girl replied with a sly grin.

She dashed out of the room for a moment, only to return with a bottle in her hands.

“Let’s start with Seven Minutes in Heaven! While two people are in the closet, the rest of us will play Truth or Dare. Everyone in?” Lucy announced.

The girls nodded eagerly. The boys, meanwhile, exchanged uncertain looks. Only Kenji and Tachihara seemed genuinely excited about the idea.

Atsushi, however, didn’t understand at all. He leaned closer to Kyōka, who was sitting beside him, and whispered a quick question. She patiently explained the rules to him in a low voice.

Oh.

Oh no.

Damn it.

The bottle spun in Kyōka’s hands, all eyes glued to it as it slowed… and stopped on Lucy.

“Whoa,” the redheaded girl laughed, grabbing Kyōka’s hand. “Come on, let’s go!”

Atsushi heard her add, “You’ll tell me everything! Hopefully seven minutes will be enough.

Together, the two disappeared into the closet. It was surprisingly cramped, built in a Japanese style with an open slot at the top to let air in.

The door clicked shut, and right away a new round began.

And why, of all people, was Ranpo the one hosting?

“Tachihara, truth or dare?” the brunette smirked as he went around the circle.

“Truth.”

“How many times have you kissed Gin?”

The girl instantly turned scarlet, burying her face in her hands.

“Five!” Tachihara declared proudly.

Akutagawa was clenching his jaw, visibly holding himself back.

“Kenji, truth or dare?” Ranpo continued.

“Dare!”

“Message that girl from your village and confess your feelings.”

Every head turned toward the blond boy.

“H-how do you even know about her?!” Kenji stammered, face burning red.

Everyone burst into laughter and started bombarding him with questions. Poor Kenji looked like he wanted the ground to swallow him whole. But a dare was a dare, he really had no choice.

Soon the entire group was crowding around his phone, peering at the screen… everyone except Atsushi and Ryuunosuke, who remained where they were, silent and apart.

Playing with Ranpo was terrifying…

And then it hit Nakajima. He was next. Shit.

But before Ranpo could call his name, the alarm went off, the one they’d set for seven minutes. The closet door creaked open and the girls came out, laughing.

“Next up is Atsushi! I wonder who he’ll get…” Lucy said, grinning at Kyōka.

Saved from truth or dare, sure. But at what cost?

With a deep breath, Atsushi reached out and spun the bottle.

You know that sinking moment when all you want to do is jump out the nearest window?

Yeah. That moment.

It landed on Akutagawa.

Of fucking course.

The room went silent. But rules were rules, and within seconds the two of them were pushed inside the closet.

God, it was cramped.

Outside, Atsushi could still hear the muffled voices of the others as they continued the game, almost forgetting about the two trapped inside. Apparently, they’d accepted the fact that Atsushi and Ryuunosuke were kind of on speaking terms now. No one even dared to guess how this would end.

In the dark, their eyes caught each other, faint light glinting through the small gaps meant for air.

Atsushi had said it was cramped? That didn’t even begin to cover it. With their builds, they were practically pressed against each other—chest to chest, hip to hip.

Atsushi had never felt this kind of closeness. Not even when Akutagawa had pulled him into that brief, accidental embrace. That had been over in seconds.

Now, they were supposed to stay like this for seven whole minutes.

At first, they stood in complete silence. The only sound was their breathing, too close, too uneven. Seconds dragged, stretching into what felt like minutes, the air in the cramped space growing heavier with each heartbeat.

Akutagawa looked just as uncomfortable, his jaw tight, his body stiff. He tried to edge away, but the harder he pushed, the more friction it caused between them.

“Aku…Akutagawa, for God’s sake, stop moving,” Atsushi managed to breathe out.

He didn’t even realize he had exhaled against the dark-haired boy’s neck, sending an involuntary shiver down Ryuunosuke’s body.

“It’s too damn cramped, idiot!”

“Like I don’t know that?! But you moving around isn’t helping!”

“Then do something yourself!”

“I can’t…”

“And why the hell not?!”

Atsushi hadn’t been this embarrassed in a long time. That friction between them had stirred a certain… reaction low in his body.

Ryuunosuke’s eyes flicked downward.

“…Oh, for fuck’s sake!”

“Shh!” Atsushi panicked, clapping his hands over his mouth.

“Mmmph! Mmmm!”

“What?” Atsushi pulled his hands back, only to be met with a scathing glare.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me!”

“This is your fault! I told you not to move!”

Akutagawa flushed red.

“You—you—!”

“Help me out here!”

“Wh—how the hell am I supposed to do that, you idiot?!” he hissed.

“Not like that! God, no! I mean—just… I need a way to sneak out to the bathroom without anyone noticing, or—or tell me something gross, maybe it’ll help!”

If there had been more space, Ryuunosuke would’ve smacked his own forehead to show just how stupid this was.

“Fine… we still have a little time left… um…” He paused, thinking. “Uh… remember the kiss between Dazai and Chuuya?”

The memory hit Atsushi like a slap.

“Ugh.”

“Well? Did it work?” Ryuunosuke asked flatly.

“Uh… I think so…” Atsushi mumbled, uncertain.

Akutagawa’s gaze flicked downward again.

“That doesn’t look like it.”

“Stop looking there!” Atsushi hissed, almost shouting in a whisper.

Ryuunosuke stayed silent.

Nakajima had no idea how much time had passed. They were just standing there, trapped in silence.

“You know…” Ryuunosuke suddenly broke it.

“What now?”

“When your face isn’t hidden behind that mask, you joke around a lot less… less flirtatiously.”

Atsushi blinked at him in confusion.

“No, I don’t mean you and him are different people. I still think you’re the same. I’m just… making an observation.”

“Uh… Do you want me to joke like that more often?” Atsushi asked cautiously. He was secretly grateful, at least Ryuunosuke was trying to change the subject.

The dark-haired boy knew perfectly well that this was nothing but a simple physical reaction. Nothing more. No need to read too deeply into it.

“Not really. Like I said, just an observation.”

After that, silence fell between them again.

And then the alarm blared. Their seven minutes were up.

Akutagawa was already moving to get out when Atsushi stopped him.

“Wait! I need a little more time to… cool down. I don’t want them to see… you know.”

“Fuck.” Akutagawa muttered, pulling his hand back and leaning against his spot again.

“Guys, you can come out now!” Lucy’s cheerful voice rang from outside.

“What’s taking you so long in there?” came Ranpo’s curious call.

“Just make something up,” Akutagawa snapped. He was clearly fed up. First, he’d been thrown into the pool because of this idiot, and now he was stuck in this humiliating situation.

“What? Make up what?” Atsushi whispered back, panicked.

“Not my problem.”

What a bastard.

“Uh… Guys! Give us a little more time!” Atsushi suddenly shouted toward the room. “Ryuunosuke really liked this game!”

“Are you out of your fucking mind?!” Akutagawa exploded, his voice still low but furious. “What the hell was that?!”

“It’s your fault! You could’ve said something yourself!”

“You little shit! Do you even realize the consequences?! What they’ll think?!”

“Did you forget who you’re talking to?” Atsushi puffed out his chest proudly.

Ryuunosuke stared at him, half-disgusted, half-shocked.

“Did you run out of brain cells? Suddenly remembering you used to be a hero?”

“I am a hero!”

“Not now, you’re not!”

“Right…” Atsushi’s voice faltered. The heaviness on his shoulders came rushing back to him all at once. That crushing weight he could never quite let go of.

A light smack landed against his cheek. Not hard, but enough to snap him out of it.

“Stop overthinking, idiot. That’s not what I meant.” Ryuunosuke’s tone softened just slightly. “You’re still a hero. At least to me. And… I still haven’t thanked you for buying me food that time. Even though I treated you like shit at school, you still helped me. You’re… ridiculously kind.”

The words hit Atsushi like a punch to the chest. As if someone had pulled out his organs, scrambled them, and shoved them back in all wrong.

“Atsushi! Akutagawa! How long are you planning to stay in there?!” Lucy shouted impatiently.

“Oh, leave them alone. They’ll come out eventually,” Naomi tried to calm her down.

“What worries me more is the fact that Ryuunosuke seems to like the game…” Junichirou admitted.

Higuchi’s eyes never once left the closet.

“What the hell is even happening in there?” Kyōka muttered under her breath.

Chapter Text

They finally stepped out of the closet.

God, it felt good to be free of that space.

Atsushi was no longer preoccupied with his earlier problem, but both he and Ryuunosuke were flushed red, and their classmates noticed it immediately.

Everyone exchanged quick, suspicious glances.

“What the hell?! What were you two doing in there?” Lucy shouted.

Their faces showed a storm of emotions. Best not to imagine what they might have been thinking.

“Let’s… just not talk about it,” Atsushi muttered, sitting back down.

All eyes shifted to Ryuunosuke, waiting for his explanation.

“Forget it,” was all he said, dropping into the circle as well.

Silence settled.

For some reason, no one dared to ask more. Maybe it was safer not to imagine what had happened in there. Some thoughts were better left untouched.

“Ahem… right. Next spin goes to Higuchi.”

Attention returned to the bottle.

It landed on… Junichirou. A strange pair, to be sure, but rules were rules.

Naomi looked like she was on the verge of tears as she let her brother go.

“Alright, game continues! Atsushi—truth or dare?” Ranpo asked, a sly grin tugging at his lips.

The boy stiffened.

Ryuunosuke glanced at him, his eyes lingering. He could still picture Atsushi’s wet clothes clinging tightly to his frame, could still hear that bright, ringing laugh. Damn it. How irritating. Why was fate always pushing him together with this idiot?

“…Truth,” Atsushi finally said.

“Then tell me—who in this circle do you think is the most attractive?”

Atsushi stared at Ranpo, almost as if the question itself felt unreal, too simple.

“…Ryuunosuke,” he blurted out, head tilting to the side.

Ranpo’s grin widened knowingly.

And then it hit Atsushi.

Why had he said that?

He could’ve picked any of the girls.

How awkward.

Everyone turned to Atsushi, then to Akutagawa.

The dark–haired boy on the outside seemed perfectly calm, as if Atsushi’s words hadn’t touched him at all. But inside—inside was chaos.

“Since when does he think I’m… attractive?” the thought burned through Akutagawa’s head, over and over.

Kyōka, sitting quietly beside Atsushi, lowered her gaze. A small shadow of disappointment crossed her face.

But the game pressed on.

And soon, it was Akutagawa’s turn.

“Truth or dare?” Ranpo asked, his grin returning.

“Dare,” Akutagawa replied instantly, his dark eyes locking on the brunet.

Atsushi flinched. He hadn’t expected that answer.

But what startled him even more was when Ranpo leaned down, close to Akutagawa, and whispered something in his ear, too quiet for the rest to hear.

“Hey! Aren’t you going to tell us too?” Lucy shouted immediately, glaring at them.

“Ranpo, why so secretive all of a sudden?” Tachihara asked suspiciously.

“Don’t worry, I’ll tell you later,” Ranpo said, flashing a sly smile.

Before anyone could press further, the alarm went off. Higuchi and Junichirou stumbled out of the closet.

Naomi instantly threw herself at her brother.

“What were you doing in there?” she demanded, almost in tears.

“Nothing! We were just talking about school!” Junichirou stammered.

The group was about to spin the bottle again when suddenly—

Bang!

The door to the room flew open.

On the threshold stood an elegant woman with a sharp, commanding gaze. Her eyes swept across the students one by one, until they landed on Kyōka. In that instant, her stern expression melted into warmth.

“Kyōka! There you are!” she exclaimed. “These are your classmates, aren’t they? Come on, come on, everyone downstairs. The disco’s about to start, and the food will be here any minute!”

She moved to hug Kyōka, who pulled back, face burning.

“M–Mom! Stop it!” the girl yelped, flustered.

“Oh, right! I almost forgot to introduce myself.” The woman beamed, her whole demeanor softening. “You can call me Kouyou. I’m Kyōka’s mother.”

It turned out that many had been waiting for the disco to begin, because the moment the announcement was made, everyone rushed downstairs, shouting and laughing as they went. Or… maybe it wasn’t the music they were after, but the food?

Atsushi couldn’t be sure.

Still, he had no desire to stay behind, so he followed the others.

“Your dare is to get Atsushi drunk. Trust me, it’ll help you. I’ll make sure you follow through, and I’ll tell the others later, but Atsushi himself mustn’t know.”

Those words from the young detective kept echoing in Ryuunosuke’s mind.

What kind of ridiculous dare was that? And how was it supposed to “help” him?

Tch. Irritating.

Couldn’t he just ignore it? Atsushi wasn’t stupid, he’d figure out immediately what Ryuunosuke was trying to do. Right? And besides… why did it feel like Ranpo had been threatening him when he whispered it?

That man was unsettling, far too clever for his own good. Definitely not someone you wanted as an enemy.

And if the others found out, they definitely wouldn’t leave him alone anyway.

Which meant… all that was left was to find alcohol.

When Ryuunosuke descended into the hall, the sight that greeted him was striking. Long tables stretched across the room, draped in pale cloths and already loaded with trays of food—steaming dishes, baskets of bread, bowls of fruit, and rows of glasses that sparkled under the warm lights. The air was thick with something sweet, twisting his stomach and only deepening his irritation.

Just a moment ago, this place had been empty. When did they even have time to set all this up?

People had already settled in, chatting cheerfully.

His classmates, quick as ever, had claimed one of the larger tables, Atsushi among them.

The atmosphere was calm, almost cozy. A soft melody floated in the background, filling the hall with an easy rhythm. The disco itself hadn’t started yet; this was only the prelude.

Ryuunosuke’s gaze fell on the empty chair beside Atsushi. On his other side sat Kyōka, leaning a little closer than before, her eyes often flicking toward the white-haired boy.

That look in her eyes…

Something about it gnawed at him, stirring a sharp irritation in his chest. Why was she reaching for Atsushi so much lately?

And why, above all, did it bother him this much?

He noticed how Kyōka seemed to deflate every time Atsushi’s attention slipped past her, like when she didn’t get paired with him in the closet, or when he didn’t choose her as the most attractive in the circle.

Ryuunosuke quickened his pace, determined to claim the seat beside Atsushi. He needed that spot if he was going to carry out the dare. God, why had he agreed to play in the first place?…

But Ranpo had said it would work in his favor. Maybe it was worth trying. After all, what was Atsushi like when drunk?

And why did he even care?

Lately, he kept catching himself on these strange thoughts, and all because of that idiot.

Ever since the moment he’d crossed paths with Spider-Man, he’d felt that odd connection to Atsushi. And the more they interacted, the stronger it grew.

As he pushed his way through the crowd, someone suddenly grabbed his wrist.

He spun around sharply.

“What’s with you, Akutagawa? I’ve been calling you and call—hic—calling you, and you don’t… don’t hear me,” slurred Chuuya, clinging to his arm. The man was clearly drunk. When had he even had the time to drink so much?

Dazai appeared almost instantly.

“Good grief, Chuuya! I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” the brunet said, prying his husband off Ryuunosuke by the shoulders.

“My apologies, Akutagawa. Enjoy your evening,” Dazai added smoothly, ready to drag him away.

But Chuuya wasn’t going to be taken so easily.

“Wait a sec! I’ve got a gift for my favorite student!” Chuuya announced.

Maybe he should just run for it while he had the chance?

Instead, Chuuya shoved a half-full bottle of wine into his hands. Only now did Ryuunosuke realize the man had been holding it the entire time.

“Here! Perfect stuff! Three glasses and you’ll forget your own name. Enjoy—uh… you know what I mean,” Chuuya mumbled before promptly passing out.

Osamu didn’t waste the opportunity, he dragged his husband away, shouting a quick farewell over his shoulder to Akutagawa.

And now what was Ryuunosuke supposed to do with this?

Ah.

Of course.

Atsushi.

When he turned back, the seat next to the white-haired boy was still open.

Without hesitation, Ryuunosuke slid into it, drawing everyone’s eyes at the table, including Atsushi’s confused stare. It seemed he hadn’t expected Akutagawa to sit so close.

Kyōka shot him a sharp glare from the other side, but the dark-haired boy ignored her completely.

He caught the looks from the others. They already knew what he was supposed to do. Apparently, Ranpo had made sure to spread the word.

The only one still oblivious was Atsushi.

Within seconds, the chatter resumed around the table.

But Ryuunosuke barely heard any of it. Hidden beneath the table, his hand gripped the wine bottle, unsure how to even start a conversation with Atsushi. The white-haired boy was listening to some nonsense Kenji was rambling about.

When the blond finally finished his story, Ryuunosuke opened his mouth to speak, but Kyōka beat him to it.

“Atsushi, why did you transfer to our school?” she asked, studying him with quiet curiosity.

“Ah… well… it just kind of happened. Honestly, I didn’t really want to transfer,” Atsushi admitted.

Something in his voice was off. He was either remembering something painful, or sinking back into his thoughts again. That habit of his—how infuriating.

Ryuunosuke hoped the conversation would die there, but of course it didn’t. Instead, Atsushi and Kyōka just kept chatting, completely wrapped up in their own conversation.

It grated on him. Why did their voices sound so warm, so easy, so natural together?

Meanwhile, the rest of the table carried on with their own chatter, leaving only Ryuunosuke sitting there, tense and uncertain.

Screw this.

With a sharp movement, he slammed the bottle onto the table and poured himself a glass.

Only then did he notice the way everyone turned to look as he drained it in one go, the bitter burn of alcohol searing down his throat.

Damn it—Chuuya was right. How could wine be this strong?

“Um… Akutagawa? Are you okay?” Atsushi asked, his golden eyes full of concern.

“Drink.” Ryuunosuke’s tone was sharp, almost commanding, as he pushed the glass of wine in front of him.

The rest of the table immediately perked up.

“Yeah, let’s drink! I’ll go grab more!” Lucy chirped, already dashing off.

“Are we even allowed to?” Kenji asked curiously.

“Don’t worry about it! One night won’t hurt anyone!” Tachihara declared loudly.

“Absolutely!” Naomi chimed in with a cheer.

Ryuunosuke barely paid attention to their circus anymore. His gaze was locked on those unnervingly unique, beautiful eyes.

“I’m not sure about this…” Atsushi muttered, staring uneasily at the wine bottle.

“Fine.” Ryuunosuke turned away, though his chest pounded harder—because of the alcohol, right?

Atsushi, however, thought he had hurt him. Quickly, he grabbed his glass and, mimicking Ryuunosuke, downed it in one gulp. The effect was immediate.

He started coughing, clutching at the table, clearly not used to drinking.

“You idiot, what are you doing?!” Ryuunosuke snapped.

“I’m copying you,” Atsushi shot back once his coughing subsided. “God, what is this taste?” He pulled a face, fanning his mouth like a child.

“Drink slowly,” Ryuunosuke said, refilling his glass.

“We’re drinking more?!” Atsushi blurted, wide-eyed.

But Ryuunosuke didn’t answer. At that moment, Lucy returned with an armful of bottles, and the table erupted with laughter and clinking glasses.

Caught up in the noise and warmth of the atmosphere, Atsushi slowly began sipping the wine.

“I didn’t know you were into alcohol…” the white-haired boy admitted, glancing at Ryuunosuke.

His face was already changing—eyes hazy, cheeks tinged pink, his movements looser, softer.

Ryuunosuke almost felt relieved. Maybe, just maybe, Atsushi would finally relax? Maybe he’d finally stop thinking about his hero work?

“I’m not a fan. I just spent a lot of time with Chuuya,” the dark-haired boy said flatly.

“What?” Atsushi blinked at him, already a little slow on the uptake.

“But, you know… now I think maybe he only did it because he felt guilty about the way Dazai treated me? Not that I can be sure.” Another gulp, the bitter taste burning down his throat.

Ryuunosuke’s eyes drifted, catching Ranpo’s across the table. The brunet raised a thumb, smirking as if to say, “Good job, you pulled it off.”

But Atsushi didn’t seem to need encouragement, his second glass was already empty.

“It’s… not exactly professional, giving alcohol to a high schooler,” he admitted, voice slurring ever so slightly. His words ran together, as though he could tip into sleep at any moment.

“Atsushi, are you sure you’re okay?” Kyōka’s voice cut through the noise.

Ryuunosuke’s jaw tightened. The sound of her voice irritated him, especially as Atsushi turned to answer her with a mumble.

The haze of wine and frustration blurred his thoughts, and before he could stop himself, he seized Atsushi by the wrist and hauled him toward the stairs.

“A-Akutagawa? What are you doing?” Nakajima asked as they climbed, nearly tripping on every other step.

Ryuunosuke didn’t answer. He only tightened his grip on Atsushi’s wrist. The last thing he wanted right now was anyone else stealing the boy’s attention.

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of Yosano striding toward their table, her heels striking the floor with sharp, deliberate clicks. Her voice cut through the hum of chatter like a blade, rising in furious scolding as she berated their classmates. A couple of them froze, guilt written all over their faces, while others tried to laugh it off nervously.

Before long, Kunikida appeared at her side, his posture stiff and his expression thunderous. He immediately launched into one of his long-winded speeches about responsibility, order, and the consequences of reckless behavior.

One by one, the bottles disappeared from the table, snatched away despite the weak attempts at excuses.

Perfect timing.

They reached the last step. Ryuunosuke glanced back just in time to meet Kyōka’s glare. Her eyes burned with anger, but before she could follow, Yosano stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. The look on Kyōka’s face was priceless.

A smirk tugged at Ryuunosuke’s lips, brief, sharp, and mocking. But he had no time to linger. He turned back only to find Atsushi staring straight at him, his eyes strangely focused despite the wine.

How long has he been looking at me like that?

No matter. They needed to get away before the teachers turned their attention upstairs. Pulling Atsushi along, Ryuunosuke led him down the hallway and shoved open the first door he found, guiding him inside.

Akutagawa turned the key with a sharp click, making sure the door was locked tight. The last thing he wanted was to be dragged out and forced to listen to Kunikida’s lectures, those were ten times worse than anything Chuuya ever threw at him.

And he was certain the teachers had seen them sitting at the table before the bottles appeared. It was only a matter of time before they started looking for the two of them, once the others were done being scolded.

“Ryuunosuke,” Atsushi’s voice came quietly.

The room was steeped in silence.

“What?” Akutagawa turned his head, and his breath caught for a moment. Atsushi had already flopped onto the bed, limbs spread wide like a starfish, staring blankly at the ceiling. It was both ridiculous and strangely endearing.

“Would you be sad if I died?” Atsushi suddenly asked, voice drifting in the still air.

“Wh–What?” Akutagawa blinked, startled, stepping closer until he was standing over him.

“Would you cry?”

“Atsush—”

“Would you remember me?” His eyes shifted, locking onto Akutagawa’s, and the raven-haired boy felt himself drown…pulled into that strange whirlpool of feelings he never knew how to fight against.

“Don’t say things like that.” He sat down at the edge of the bed, gaze unwavering.

“Would you visit my grave?”

“Atsushi, I…” The alcohol was surely to blame, otherwise why would he let the words slip? “I… I don’t think I could live without you. Please, don’t die.”

Atsushi froze, and for a fleeting moment, Ryuunosuke thought his pupils widened, or maybe it was just the dim light playing tricks on him.

They stayed locked in each other’s stare. His eyes had that strange quality: under the low light, they leaned more violet than gold, and the sight made Akutagawa’s chest tighten.

“You know…” the dark-haired boy murmured. “People usually drink to forget their troubles… but you’re lying here talking about your death.”

Nakajima suddenly sat up. His hand rose, brushing aside a loose strand of Akutagawa’s hair, tucking it gently behind his ear. The touch sent an involuntary shiver racing down his spine.

What… what was he doing?

But before Ryuunosuke could process it, the moment was shattered by a sudden blast of music from downstairs. Both of them jerked at the noise, Atsushi’s hand dropping away.

It sounded like a dance had started—loud voices, laughter, and the pounding rhythm of speakers echoing through the building.

Had the teachers already given up and let their classmates go free? Could they even go back downstairs without attracting attention? Did they even want to?

Akutagawa doubted it. Noise and crowds were the last thing he wanted right now. And judging by the way Atsushi lingered in silence beside him, he probably preferred the same.

Chapter Text

“How did you get your abilities?” Ryuunosuke asked quietly, lying flat on the bed.

Atsushi was stretched out the same way beside him, their shoulders almost brushing.

Both of them stared up at the ceiling

“I don’t remember,” Atsushi murmured. “It feels like I’ve had them since I was a child.”

“I see…”

From the floor below, muffled music continued to play, seeping into the stillness of the room.

“Do you remember your own childhood, Ryuunosuke?”

“Yes.”

“And what was it like?”

“Terrible.”

Atsushi turned his head slightly, his eyes tracing the sharp, beautiful line of the dark-haired man’s profile.

“My sister and I don’t even remember what our parents looked like,” Ryuunosuke said in a low voice. “But we were forced to pay off all their debts. Every day was a fight for survival.” He spoke without acknowledging the steady gaze resting on him.

“You went through so much.”

“No more than you did.”

The room fell into silence.

Ryuunosuke turned his head, and their eyes locked.

“You… what were you trying to do earlier?” he asked, recalling the cold touch of fingers against his cheek.

“What are you talking about?” Atsushi replied.

He really shouldn’t drink.

“Tch… Forget it.” Akutagawa muttered and turned onto his side, his back now to Atsushi.

A soft rustle followed, and the mattress shifted beneath them.

Before he could react, Atsushi closed the distance, grabbing his shoulder in one swift, decisive motion and pulling him back down flat against the bed.

In the next breath, he straddled him boldly, his thighs tightening around Ryuunosuke’s waist.

What the hell is that idiot doing?

Silence hung between them, heavy and electric. Akutagawa bit down on the rising cry in his chest, forcing himself to stay still as his eyes searched the boy’s face above him.

Why was his heart beating so violently? Was he sick? Or was it just the alcohol rushing through his veins?

“I couldn’t live without you either,” Atsushi said suddenly, his voice low and almost trembling.

“What nonsense are you—”

Fingers slid once more into his hair.

They moved slowly this time, combing through the dark strands, brushing them back with unexpected gentleness—before tightening in a sudden, deliberate pull. Ryuunosuke’s head fell back sharply, his breath caught in his throat, and his hands clenched hard into the sheets beneath him.

What was he doing?

But Ryuunosuke didn’t realize that what Atsushi saw before his eyes was his neck, completely exposed.

A second later, a warm tongue slid across it.

“Gh—!” A pathetic sound escaped Ryuunosuke’s throat.

What the hell was happening?!

He tried to lower his head, but his hair was yanked tighter. The pain flared, yet the wet heat against his skin pulled his mind away from it.

When he raised his hands to push Atsushi off, the white-haired boy sank his teeth into his collarbone.

“Ah! You idiot!” Ryuunosuke gasped as a violent shiver shot through his body, his back arching against his will.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” he shouted, finally tearing Atsushi’s hands free from his hair.

From the bite, warm red liquid began to run down his skin. The pain throbbed, sharp and relentless.

The absurdity of it all almost sobered him completely.

“I killed them all, Ryuunosuke. I killed every one of them.” Atsushi’s voice suddenly crumbled into something so pitiful it nearly broke Ryuunosuke’s chest.

“What are you talking about? Do you even realize where you are? What you’re doing?”

“I didn’t save them. I’m a monster. I’m not supposed to kill. I’m not supposed to. I’m not supposed to.” He sounded like a man unraveling, his eyes staring blankly into nothing.

“Hey! Hey, Atsushi!” Ryuunosuke tried to snap him out of it, pushing himself up on his elbows.

But a strong hand shoved him back down, pinning him by the chest.

“Then why… why do I want to kill him?” Atsushi’s tone had turned chillingly dark.

“Kill who?” Ryuunosuke decided to play along, his voice cautious.

“Why? Is it normal? He’s my father…”

And in that moment, it struck him. The boy sitting on top of him truly was someone to be feared.

“Atsushi… why do you want to kill him?” Ryuunosuke asked carefully, his voice low and steady.

At last, it seemed Nakajima had heard him. In the next moment, he pulled off his turtleneck, baring his chest.

Ryuunosuke’s eyes snapped shut.

“What the hell are you doing?!” A rush of shameful thoughts shot through his mind, thoughts he hadn’t even known he was capable of.

Since when did such things ever cross his head?

“This is why,” Atsushi answered, his gaze fixed on the black fabric of Ryuunosuke’s shirt.

The dark-haired boy opened his eyes slowly, only to be met with the most horrifying sight he could imagine.

God. What was this?

Atsushi’s body was a map of wounds. Cuts, bruises, burns, every inch of his skin was painted in the cruel colors of pain and suffering.

He had once caught a glimpse of Atsushi’s bare stomach when the boy had accidentally exposed it. But Akutagawa had never expected that bruises like those… would be everywhere.

No wonder he never let anyone see him uncovered.

Ryuunosuke’s hand rose instinctively to his own mouth, as if to stop himself from saying something he shouldn’t.

His father… that was the real monster.

Fuck.

“I’m disgusting. So ugly. I don’t even deserve these scars. Do you understand? I don’t deserve to live…” Atsushi’s voice broke as he repeated the words like a cursed mantra.

For the first time, true fear curled inside Ryuunosuke’s chest.

What was he supposed to do?

But Atsushi didn’t give him the chance to decide.

In one violent motion, he grabbed Akutagawa’s shirt and tore it open, buttons scattering across the room and clattering across the floor.

The dark-haired boy froze, breath caught in his throat.

Atsushi’s hands began to move slowly over his exposed skin, gentle strokes that made Akutagawa bite back any sound. But sharp, uneven breaths still slipped past his lips.

“Atsushi, stop,” he pleaded, his voice weak, trembling hands trying to push the boy away. His attempts were ignored.

“So pure,” the white-haired boy whispered, fingers tightening against Ryuunosuke’s ribs. “Let me…”

Ryuunosuke barely had time to understand what he meant before nails scraped down his chest, leaving behind a red line and a sharp sting.

“Mnkh!” A pained sound broke from him.

But it didn’t end there.

Another bite. Right against his chest. Another surge of searing pain.

“Atsu… stop… it hurts.”

Unable to bear it any longer, Ryuunosuke slapped him across the face. Atsushi froze, his head snapping to the side.

It was as if Nakajima had suddenly woken from a dream.

“Eh? Ah? What’s happ—” He stopped the instant he looked down at Ryuunosuke beneath him… then at his own bare torso. His expression crumbled, and he scrambled off the bed, retreating as far as the small room allowed.

“Ryuunosuke! I’m sorry! I— I don’t know what came over me! God! Did I— did I do that? I…” His words tumbled out in a frantic rush, his voice breaking as if he might burst into tears. “This has never happened before! That wasn’t me! I don’t know what it was…”

His knees gave out, and he collapsed onto the floor, clutching his head.

“Enough.” Ryuunosuke forced out the word, using the last of his strength to make it sound as stern as possible.

Atsushi fell silent.

Akutagawa silently fastened his shirt again. Only then did he notice the heat burning across his cheeks. And… no, it couldn’t be…

His gaze dropped downward. To his dark trousers.

Damn it.

Atsushi, calmer now, made a move to approach, but Akutagawa stopped him sharply.

“No! Don’t come any closer!”

“I… I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to…” Atsushi began again.

But the reason Ryuunosuke couldn’t allow him near wasn’t fear. No— it was something far more humiliating.

“You were drunk,” Akutagawa tried to explain, though deep down he knew it wasn’t just the alcohol.

No. The alcohol had only pushed things forward.

Atsushi’s troubles, and his fragile mind, had long since crossed the line of what could be called normal. To the point that another side of him seemed to have emerged, a side he couldn’t control.

And if this was the first time it had surfaced… then things had truly gone too far.

“You need help,” Ryuunosuke said at last, his voice softer than before.

Atsushi stared at him, lost. “I… what?”

But was Ryuunosuke ready to give him that help himself?

Despite the pain the boy had carved into his body?

Despite the fear still coiled inside him?

Despite the shameful evidence straining against his trousers—

Enough!

“You’ll stop being a hero,” he blurted, almost as a test.

“No! My suit is almost finished! I have to step out tomorrow and show everyone I’m not guilty!” Atsushi panicked immediately, still crouched on the cold floor.

“Do you really think those idiots will just believe you?!”

No answer came.

“You don’t understand,” Ryuunosuke pressed, his voice loud but not angry. “They’ve already decided you’re guilty. Changing people’s minds isn’t easy—and in this city there are over a hundred thousand of them!”

Atsushi’s eyes widened, but he said nothing.

“We need a plan. And more than that, you need to give yourself time to breathe. To rest!”

“But—”

“This isn’t your fault! What happened, what might happen next, you are not responsible for carrying all of it, do you understand? So stop torturing yourself, and stop dragging me down with you.” His tone was sharp, but not unkind. “Start sleeping. Start taking care of yourself. Every human being deserves that. So do you.”

Ryuunosuke’s words struck like a hammer. He was tired of repeating himself, but there was no other way to make Atsushi hear.

“I don’t think I can even call myself human… You saw what I did to you!”

“Fuck!”

Akutagawa was at his limit. Why couldn’t Atsushi grasp such simple things?

Sure, maybe Ryuunosuke had no right to lecture anyone. He wasn’t exactly the healthiest example of a person either, with his trust issues, poor social skills, aggression, and suffocating sense of control. But next to the white-haired boy, he almost seemed normal.

“I hurt you, Ryuunosuke! You’re the last person I ever want to harm, and yet I still—”

“I fucking liked it!” The words burst out before he could stop them.

Silence crashed over the room.

Yes, Ryuunosuke had been afraid, and yes, it had hurt, but still…

“You… liked it? What the hell is that supposed to mean?!” This time Atsushi stood, moving toward the bed.

Akutagawa didn’t stop him. Let him see for himself what he had done.

As Atsushi’s gaze swept over him, lingering far too low, heat rushed to his face, turning it crimson.

“You’re—! You’re a damn masochist!”

“What are you babbling about, idiot? Look at yourself! Sadistic bastard!”

“Wh—what do you mean sadist?!”

What a pointless argument.

Knock, knock.

“Atsushiii, Akutagawaaa—I know you’re in there!” Dazai’s voice sing-songed through the door.

You’ve got to be kidding…

Forgetting their fight in an instant, they exchanged a quick glance.

Atsushi cracked the door open slightly. “Yes, Dazai?”

“Just so you know, we’re sending the kids home. It’s getting late. The party will continue with the adults, so I suggest you two head out.” Osamu explained smoothly.

“Yeah, alright,” Atsushi answered, thinking that was the end of it. But Dazai’s eyes had already noticed something.

“Atsushi,” his tone sharpened.

“Yes?”

“That’s not your blood on your lips… is it?”

“What? Ah—no! It’s mine!” Atsushi slapped a hand over his mouth.

But Dazai was already smirking like the devil himself.

“I see, I see… Too bad Chuuya’s already passed out. Well, never mind, I’ve said my piece.” With that, he drifted away.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Atsushi looked back at Ryuunosuke.

“We should go…”

“I heard.”

“Uh… your problem…”

“Shut up. I’ll handle it. Just hearing Dazai’s voice makes me sick, and if I picture what helped you back then in the closet, that’ll help.”

Atsushi couldn’t help but find that amusing.

And so, after a few minutes, Ryuunosuke was ready to head downstairs.

They slipped past the teachers, pulled on their coats in a hurry, and left together with the other students.

Both of them tried to ignore what had happened earlier, even if they couldn’t quite manage it.

Ranpo had really outdone himself tonight. He’d helped more people than anyone realized. From giving Tachihara advice about his relationship, to Kenji finally hearing the long-awaited “I like you too” from his crush… and of course, his proudest accomplishment of the evening—yes, those two upstairs. They knew what they were going to do next. Or maybe not… Doesn’t matter!

The moment Akutagawa led Atsushi to the second floor, Ranpo knew he had done well.

Of course, later they all got scolded, but he honestly didn’t pay much attention to Kunikida’s shouting.

When the teachers finally calmed down, a familiar shadow appeared behind him.

“Hello, Poe!” Ranpo said even before the librarian’s hand touched his shoulder.

“Good evening. I was wondering… would you like to spend a little time with me?” Poe asked, his tone awkward yet steady.

“Of cou—”

Ranpo turned, and the words caught in his throat. Edgar’s dark brown hair was neatly styled, framing his eyes, and he wore a black tuxedo that suited him far too well.

“…of course,” Ranpo finished, unable to tear his gaze away from the man’s figure.

“Wonderful.” Poe extended his hand, and the young detective immediately took it, ignoring the curious stares of his classmates.

“So, what shall we do? And… where’s Karl, by the way?” Ranpo asked, finally breaking into a grin.

“To tell the truth, I wrote another novel…just for you. As for Karl, he’s running around somewhere. The hostess gave him permission,” Poe explained with quiet pride.

“Well, if it’s written just for me, then let’s find a quiet place,” Ranpo declared. Edgar’s stories had become his favorites, they pushed his mind to work at a hundred percent, and he loved every second of it.

“I think I saw a small room next to the kitchen,” Poe suggested.

“Perfect! Lead the way!”

And so they slipped into a cozy room with a television on the wall, elegant sofas, and low tea tables. Settling across from each other, the librarian placed a thick stack of papers on the table.

Ranpo’s eyes lit up. He snatched the pages eagerly and dove straight into reading.

Poe couldn’t help but watch him. Those brilliant green eyes, that sharp yet dreamy expression—there was nothing more captivating. Somewhere along the way, he had realized that his love for writing had multiplied a hundredfold, that he was driving himself to the very edge each time… all because of the brunette sitting across from him.

The minutes slipped by in comfortable silence.

“Wow! Incredible! Everyone in this story is a murderer,” Edogawa finally exclaimed, glancing up from the manuscript.

“How beautiful he is,” Poe thought, his heart tightening.

“You’re absolutely right,” he said aloud instead.

From the hall beyond, music drifted in. The start of the dancing.

Ranpo leapt to his feet at once.

“Come on!” he shouted, grabbing Poe’s hand. Warmth.

In a flash, the young detective dragged him onto the dance floor, where students were already spinning to the lively music, and even a few teachers had joined in.

“Let’s dance!”

Poe smiled faintly. “All right.”

He couldn’t keep up with Ranpo’s playful, energetic moves, but that didn’t matter, he simply couldn’t tear his gaze away. The room seemed to blur around him, all noise and color fading into the background, leaving only Ranpo in sharp focus.

And the boy knew it perfectly well; his sly grin gave him away.

Then, as a slower melody began, Poe decided to take the lead. He recognized the tune immediately.

Yes… Someday by David Gates. He often heard this song on the radio.

Extending his hand in a formal invitation, he surprised Ranpo. The boy blinked in confusion for a moment, but placed his hand in his without hesitation.

In the very next instant, Poe pulled him close, one hand settling firmly at his waist.

Love me~

Forget about tomorrow now and love me

Their eyes met. Ranpo looked a little unsettled, caught between surprise and curiosity. Slowly, carefully, they began to move together.

There's time enough to borrow from another day

So just for now

Let's touch and do the things that drive my cares away

Poe always knew Ranpo was a genius, but he never imagined it extended even here—how the boy could read every subtle impulse in his hands, every smallest hint of movement.

Poe led, and Ranpo followed with flawless ease, each step flowing as if they had practiced for years.

Then Ranpo’s expression softened, an unguarded smile tugging at his lips as he lifted his gaze to him.

And in that moment, Poe felt his heart slip from his chest.

Hold me~

Forget the world outside tonight and hold me

They kept moving slowly across the parquet floor until Ranpo suddenly stopped, as if he had just solved another riddle. Edgar instinctively halted with him.

And by the flickering candle light

Our love will glow

And then we'll share the words and feelings

No one else will ever know

They kept gazing into each other’s eyes while a gentle melody played in the background. Those eyes spoke more than words ever could, and in that moment, both of them understood exactly what they longed to say to one another.

Poe’s lips curved into a genuine smile, and the moment Ranpo saw it, he leapt into his arms.

Luckily, the lights were dim, and no one paid attention to yet another pair gently embracing in the middle of the dance floor.

Chapter Text

Atsushi felt as though he was unraveling.

More and more often, he felt like a stranger to himself. And he couldn’t quite understand what had caused this change. Maybe it was because, for the first time in years, he had allowed himself a moment of rest and laughter.

Or maybe it was the flood of strange, overwhelming emotions that kept surging through him with frightening intensity.

Maybe it was the heavy burden of no longer being seen as a “hero.”

…Or perhaps something inside him had simply cracked.

He had clearly crossed the line… What had he done?

A muted, aching scream echoed inside him.

Every attempt he’d made to reach out to Ryuunosuke, to draw even a little closer, all of it felt ruined. Now, the other must think of him as nothing more than some unhinged pervert.

And yet… Ryuunosuke had said he liked it. Didn’t that make him one as well?

And perverts… could still be friends, couldn’t they?

“What nonsense am I even thinking?” he scolded himself, tugging his jacket tighter around him as if to hide from his own thoughts. He truly didn’t understand what had come over him. And worse, he didn’t know how far he would have gone if he hadn’t wrestled back control of his body in time.

The thought alone chilled him to the core.

What if he hadn’t just hurt Ryuunosuke… what if…

Kill.

Kill him.

…he had killed him?

He remembered again how his suit had once moved against his will, how he had hurt all those innocent people… The fear of losing control still haunted him, for the strength he carried was anything but human. With it, he could all too easily take away the life of the only person he had ever trusted.

The nausea rose at once, but he forced it down. Showing weakness in front of Ryuunosuke was the very last thing he wanted.

Outside, the air was bitterly cold. With the fall of night, the temperature had dropped even further. Gray clouds drifted across the heavens, veiling the sky in deep black.

There was no way anyone could call what had happened tonight normal.

What was he supposed to do now?

He stole a glance at the dark-haired boy walking beside him. He seemed just as lost in thought, his expression unreadable.

The alcohol still lingered faintly in Atsushi’s veins, leaving him oddly light-headed.

The silence between them held steady, broken only by the soft crunch of their steps against the frozen earth. Around them, bare trees loomed in the night, their branches swaying faintly in the wind.

From the house behind, the music that had once spilled into the air had already faded.

Atsushi lowered his head, eyes fixed on the barren ground beneath his feet. It was easier to look there than at Ryuunosuke.

They both knew the truth, or at least, they told themselves they did. What had happened was nothing more than the body’s instinctive reaction. Atsushi in that closet… Ryuunosuke on that bed…

At least, that’s what they forced themselves to believe. Because the alternative, the thought that it might have been something far greater, was unbearable.

Self-deception was the only thing keeping them sane. Without it, they both would have lost their minds.

Then, out of nowhere, something pale fluttered down at Atsushi’s feet.

He raised his head, and there it was. A slow cascade of white, hundreds of delicate flakes drifting from the heavens above.

Snow.

The first snow of the season.

Before he could stop himself, a faint, almost childlike smile curved his lips. He turned to share the moment with Akutagawa—

—and froze.

Ryuunosuke was watching too. His gaze followed the flakes as they spun lazily in the air, only to melt away into the dark as soon as they touched the ground.

There was something in the quiet wonder of his expression, in the rare softness of his focus, that made Atsushi hold his breath without even realizing it.

They stood together on the dimly lit path, the world hushed around them.

Ryuunosuke, sensing the weight of Atsushi’s gaze, tore his eyes away from the snowfall and looked at him.

The wounds Atsushi had carved into his body still pulsed faintly beneath the layers of fabric.

But Ryuunosuke decided it was easier to pretend it wasn’t there.

“What are you staring at?” he asked, his dark eyes flicking briefly to the way the snowflakes tangled in Atsushi’s white hair.

Nakajima quickly averted his gaze, shame pressing down on him after everything that had happened today.

Ryuunosuke stood there for a moment before moving forward, his steps steady and unhurried. Atsushi forced his own legs to follow, and when they fell into pace, Akutagawa spoke again, his voice calm and low.

“Listen, Atsushi.”

“Yes?”

A pause stretched between them.

Out of habit, Ryuunosuke’s hand slipped toward the pocket of his coat, fingers brushing against the familiar shape. But then he stopped. His gaze shifted to the white-haired boy.

Atsushi never liked it when he smoked.

With a quiet breath, he forced the urge back down, letting it dissolve into the cold night air.

“Your father… is he home?” he finally asked.

“I… I don’t know.” Atsushi’s voice faltered. The thought was suffocating.

What if he lost control again—what if he actually tried to kill him? The idea alone terrified him. Once, he wouldn’t even have allowed himself to think such a thing… but now…

“Why don’t you stay at my place tonight?”

The question snapped Atsushi out of his dark spiral.

“What?” he blurted, staring stupidly at Ryuunosuke.

“Do you want to stay with me?” he repeated, this time serious.

…He really meant it.

Ryuunosuke himself was offering this—after everything Atsushi had done? Why? Could it be that he actually… cared?

“Stop overthinking.” Ryuunosuke’s sharp eyes caught the hesitation on Atsushi’s face.

He stepped a little closer. The distance between them shrank, though they still didn’t touch.

“I’m not sure…” Atsushi admitted quietly. If his father discovered he hadn’t come home that night, what would happen then?

Ryuunosuke said nothing, his silence heavy. Maybe he’d taken that as a refusal.

But could Atsushi really say no?

Of course not.

To hell with the consequences.

“Yes.” The word left his mouth loud and firm, startling even himself.

Ryuunosuke glanced at him, then nodded slightly.

And… was that a smile?

Atsushi couldn’t be sure, not with the snow falling thicker now, blanketing the world in a thin, pale veil.

Why did Akutagawa look almost… happy when Atsushi was near? After everything he had put him through? Atsushi couldn’t understand.

The raven-haired boy was strikingly beautiful, almost fragile—yet he had already endured so much pain in his short life. He was contradiction itself: sharp and gentle, cold and warm.

How could he possibly deserve either side of him?

“You know…” Ryuunosuke continued, his voice quieter than before. Atsushi never would have believed that this boy could be so talkative if he hadn’t witnessed it himself. “I’m glad we worked on that project together.”

There was one thing Atsushi had come to realize for sure: Ryuunosuke had an uncanny ability to change the subject in an instant. It could be both a blessing and a curse.

So that was it.

Atsushi felt the same. Even though they had divided the work and hardly discussed how to present it, everything had gone surprisingly smoothly. One filled in where the other left off, adding details without ever clashing. The most shocking moment of all had been when Dazai actually gave Ryuunosuke a fair grade—no petty deductions. It was almost unbelievable. But they had pulled it off.

In truth, ever since that time they both skipped literature class, Osamu had started treating Akutagawa a little… kinder? Atsushi suspected that maybe Chuuya was the reason Dazai had stopped tormenting his classmate. But honestly, no one really knew what went on in the teacher’s head. A successfully completed project was far more important than any reasons behind it.

“…I’m glad too,” Atsushi finally admitted.

“About what happened today… let’s just forget it, shall we?”

Ryuunosuke’s tone shifted—there was something heavy, almost sorrowful, behind it.

“…Alright.” The word escaped Atsushi before he even had time to think it through.

Forget? Forget how much they had revealed to each other? Forget those glances, the laughter that had felt so rare, so alive?

No. If they chose to bury it all, Atsushi felt he would lose something far too precious.

“…No.” He stopped walking, eyes dropping to the snow beneath his feet, the white layer rising thicker and thicker with every second.

“What?” Ryuunosuke turned to him, brows furrowed.

Their cheeks and noses were tinged pink from the biting cold, while snowflakes clung to their hair before melting into cool drops against their skin. It was the kind of night that carried danger in its beauty—so cold it could slip sickness into the body with ease.

“No. Let’s not forget it,” Atsushi said firmly, lifting his gaze. Their eyes met again, and as always, the world seemed to freeze.

“You… I… uh, but—”

“Ryuunosuke, you just don’t know how to act around me, do you? That’s why you’re suggesting this, isn’t it?” The words rushed out, clumsy, but honest.

God, how beautiful Akutagawa looked in the snowlight.

It seemed he had caught Ryuunosuke off guard. The boy stood still, silent, staring at him as though uncertain.

“I don’t know how to act either…” Atsushi admitted softly. “But I know it would be wrong to ignore everything that happened today. Please… let’s act how we truly feel. You know more about me than anyone. I don’t want you to forget a single thing.”

Ryuunosuke’s eyes widened, startled by the raw emotion in Nakajima’s voice. For a moment, his heart felt strangely unsteady.

“…How selfish. Don’t you think?” His words came low, thoughtful, as if he was speaking more to himself than to Atsushi.

Atsushi knew it was selfish. But wasn’t it Ryuunosuke himself who had once demanded he stop thinking only of others, and finally think of himself?

“Act… how we feel,” Ryuunosuke echoed in his mind. If that was truly what Atsushi wanted… then things would only become more complicated. Because the truth was—Ryuunosuke didn’t fully understand what he felt for this boy standing before him.

“Ryuu…?” Atsushi’s voice broke through his thoughts, gentle, full of hope.

That nickname. Memories it carried with it. How dare he use it now, of all times?

Ryuunosuke’s composure faltered, his face heating faintly at the way Atsushi whispered it so tenderly.

“…I’ll try,” he muttered at last, quickly starting forward again before Atsushi could read his expression.

The white-haired boy smiled softly to himself at that answer.

But Ryuunosuke understood that by agreeing, he might as well have signed a pact with the devil. He would be forced to sift through feelings he wasn’t ready to confront. Still… “trying” didn’t mean succeeding. It only meant… not running away.

So they walked on in silence, each trapped in the labyrinth of his own thoughts. The city was only fifteen minutes away, its lights a faint glow against the snowy horizon.

By the time the first streetlamps came into view, they passed a small house glowing warmly in the night. Outside, children in scarves and padded coats were laughing, tossing fresh snow at each other. Their bright voices carried through the crisp air.

Atsushi stopped in his tracks. His eyes lingered on them with a quiet sadness that Ryuunosuke caught instantly.

Nakajima had never played games like that. Never known that simple kind of joy.

The dark-haired boy studied Atsushi’s profile, and something twisted painfully inside him. He hated seeing that look on Atsushi’s face—the loneliness, the shadow of longing. He didn’t want to see that look, not from him.

At least Akutagawa had Gin, someone with whom he could escape, even briefly, from the weight of the world. Atsushi, on the other hand, had no one… And what struck Ryuunosuke was how this boy beside him still strove to help everyone, despite the fact that no one had ever truly helped him.

Without a word, the dark-haired boy crouched, scooped a fistful of cold snow, and shaped it quickly into a ball. A moment later, it struck Atsushi’s cheek in a soft burst of white.

“Hey!” Atsushi shouted, brushing the snow away.

“Pay attention, idiot,” Ryuunosuke replied flatly, though his lips twitched almost imperceptibly.

The sharp glint in Atsushi’s eyes was enough warning. The next second, Ryuunosuke darted back, already gathering more snow in his hands.

A snowball fight with Spider-Man himself was probably not the brightest idea. Every throw Akutagawa made was dodged in an instant, while Atsushi’s aim was merciless.

And yet… beneath the drifting snow, with laughter breaking through sharp breaths and half-choked shouts, something warm flickered to life between them.

Akutagawa wasn’t an easy opponent. He caught every slip in Atsushi’s guard and wasted no time striking back, hurling snowballs that always seemed to find their mark.

Even if his aim wasn’t perfect, even if he scored fewer hits, the sound of Atsushi’s unrestrained laughter was worth every frozen finger, every strand of wet hair plastered to his forehead.

He didn’t know how long their battle lasted.

The children they had been watching earlier had long since retreated into the warmth of the house, and above them the sky had deepened into night. The city’s glow blurred the stars, but the few that pierced through still looked like quiet sparks scattered across the heavens.

Akutagawa lay on the snow, exhausted, his chest rising and falling with shallow breaths as he gazed upward at those faint stars. They still had a long walk to the house ahead of them, but for a moment he let the stillness consume him.

Snow crunched nearby. Atsushi walked closer, then dropped down beside him with a sigh.

“God, how can you just keep staring up while snowflakes are falling on your face like that?” he muttered, half complaining, half amused.

It was true. Ryuunosuke had simply let the flakes collect, ignoring the way they melted cold against his skin, blurring his vision.

“You didn’t know?” His lips curved faintly. “I’m Snowflake-Man.”

“What nonsense is that? If that’s true, then you should’ve won against me—as the one true master of snow.”

“I work with snowflakes, not snowballs. Different department.”

Such a ridiculous argument. And yet… with Atsushi, Ryuunosuke found himself slipping into childishness more often than he ever thought possible. And strangely, it felt like Atsushi was just as affected.

“Your lips are turning blue. We should get moving,” Atsushi said, studying Ryuunosuke’s profile carefully.

“Why are you looking at my lips?” Ryuunosuke asked before he could stop himself.

“Maybe because I want to kiss them?” came the immediate reply.

His system seemed to crash. Akutagawa froze, afraid to even turn his head.

“You said I used to joke by flirting more often than I do now,” Atsushi added quickly, noticing his stiffness. “Thought I’d try again.”

God. Why hadn’t he realized right away that it was a joke? And worse—why did he find himself wishing it wasn’t?

Meanwhile, Atsushi was busy berating himself. What an idiot he was, why had he said that? He was sure Akutagawa must have hated it. A stupid, stupid joke… His hands curled into fists, and for a moment he had to fight the urge to hit himself for blurting it out.

Ryuunosuke was his first friend.

The last thing he wanted was to ruin it. To lose him.

They had both admitted they couldn’t live without each other. Didn’t that make them, if nothing else, good friends?

“…You’re getting better at it,” Ryuunosuke’s voice broke the silence.

“What?” Atsushi blinked.

“Joking.”

“Oh. Uh… thanks.” Atsushi felt more lost than ever.

The night quiet pressed between them again.

“…We should hurry,” Ryuunosuke finally said, pushing himself up and brushing the snow from his clothes.

“Yeah. You’re right,” Atsushi answered, rising to follow.

And so the two figures continued their path through the snow, their shadows stretching side by side under the distant glow of the city lights.

The night passed in a haze.

He couldn’t even remember how they made it back to the house.

Exhaustion must have taken over, because the moment he touched the softness of his bed, Akutagawa fell asleep without even changing his clothes.

The warmth of the house had felt like the best thing in the world.

And perhaps, that had been his mistake.

By morning his head throbbed painfully, and his body burned as if he had just run a marathon—maybe even won first place.

Sleeping in wet clothes, with damp hair clinging to his skin… definitely a terrible idea.

Dragging himself out of bed with effort, he changed into his loungewear and stepped out of his room.

That’s when a sweet aroma hit his nose.

…Pastries?

He moved quickly toward the kitchen, only to find the strangest sight.

Atsushi, wearing his clothes, was standing by the counter, making tea.

On the table, perfectly arranged, were cakes from his favorite bakery.

What the hell…?

“Good morning! Sleep well?” Atsushi’s smile seemed brighter than the sun.

“Terribly,” Akutagawa muttered, sinking into a chair.

If not for the pastries, his one undeniable weakness, he probably would have yelled at Atsushi for stealing his clothes and acting like he owned the place.

Instead, a steaming cup of tea was placed in front of him.

…Maybe it wasn’t the end of the world if Nakajima made himself at home here.

Still, the pounding in his head wouldn’t stop, and the tremor in his hands was impossible to hide.

Was he… coming down with something?

“Atsushi.”

“Yes?” Atsushi took a sip of his tea, not touching the cakes.

“How the hell are you this cheerful and energetic in the morning, after being drunk last night?”

The contrast irritated Ryuunosuke more than he’d admit.

And when he reached for the cake, his shirt slipped slightly, revealing to Atsushi the mark of yesterday’s bite.

The white-haired boy’s cheeks flushed despite himself.

“…You don’t look so great, honestly,” Atsushi said after a pause, his voice uncertain. Then, catching Akutagawa’s glare, he quickly added, “Maybe we should… um… take care of… you know… last night’s… thing?”

Akutagawa pretended not to care.

He didn’t want things between them to get any more complicated, so the best option was to look at everything objectively.

There was nothing special about it.

They’d both been drunk.

Even those looks they’d exchanged… they meant nothing.

It just made them a little closer—as friends.

“I’ll take care of it myself,” he muttered, continuing his royal breakfast.

“And take some medicine, too. You look like you’re about to pass out,” Atsushi insisted.

“I know,” he replied curtly.

That seemed to satisfy Atsushi. The white-haired boy pulled out his phone and began scrolling through their class chat.

Ryuunosuke, chewing slowly, suddenly wondered where his phone had ended up.

Eternal Prison

Tachihara: So, karaoke today?

Higuchi: That’s right.

Lucy: How wonderful! I love weekends like this!

Naomi: We need to enjoy ourselves more before school starts again o(≧▽≦)o

Ranpo: Hmm… I’m not sure…

Kenji: There’ll be snacks.

Ranpo: Meet at 4!

Gin: Okay.

“Hey, Akutagawa,” Atsushi said, not looking up from the screen.

“What is it now?”

“Our classmates are planning to go to karaoke. Wanna come?”

“God… Wasn’t yesterday enough for them?”

The dark-haired boy’s face twisted into pure exhaustion and irritation. He looked so much like a sulky cat that Atsushi couldn’t help but find it… oddly cute.

“Maybe we could go?” he suggested hesitantly, almost as if testing the words on his tongue. “School’s starting soon, and… well…yesterday ended so abruptly, and—karaoke… I’ve never even been to one before.”

The thought slipped out before he could stop himself. Was he allowing himself too much? Maybe. Yet the idea of spending even a little more time with Ryuunosuke made his chest feel warmer.

For once, he dared to think… maybe he was allowed to want this.

When he was with Ryuunosuke, the rest of the world seemed to fade away. Perhaps this whole dreadful ordeal with Spider-Man was, in truth, offering him a chance to experience an ordinary life?

Atsushi’s eyes dimmed with quiet sadness—how could anyone say no to that?

“…Fine,” Akutagawa muttered at last, getting up and heading for the bathroom. He needed a shower, and to take his medication. It wouldn’t hurt to cover up those marks left by that idiot, either.

“I’m showering after you!” Atsushi called out after him.

Ryuunosuke felt the corner of his mouth twitch, barely a smile. He was starting to get used to having the white-haired boy around.

After both of them were finally fresh and dressed in clean, neat clothes, ready to head out so they wouldn’t be late for the long-awaited karaoke, a playful argument broke out—who would sing worse. But soon, their lighthearted banter shifted into something else entirely, turning far more serious.

“Listen, Akutagawa… then what am I supposed to do?” Atsushi asked, his voice uncertain.

“Let’s try to convince everyone it wasn’t you,” Ryuunosuke replied flatly.

That incident flashed through his mind again. No—Spider-Man would never have beaten him like that. Not with such cruelty, not with such cold indifference.

“What do you mean?”

“For God’s sake, use your head! The reporters. They’re starving for a story. If we, as victims of the incident, tell them how you cried out that someone was controlling you—that alone will catch the public’s attention.”

“That’s… brilliant! But we’d still need proof, wouldn’t we?”

“Then we start with our classmates.”

“You mean… ask them about it?”

“Yes. Carefully. Maybe some of them heard your voice before it was drowned out.”

“You’re right.”

Ryuunosuke’s thoughts spun on. How were they supposed to crawl their way out of this mess? And more importantly, how could they find the real culprit behind it all?

“What about the security cameras?” Atsushi suddenly burst out, eyes bright with excitement.

“Damn… you’re right.” That would be solid evidence.

How had they not thought of it sooner?

“I just hope Mori hasn’t deleted anything. We need to dig up that footage from that day.”

“Would he even let us?”

“He’s usually lenient with students… but poking around the cameras? That’s different. Maybe we should ask the teachers for help.”

“Dazai! He seems to be on good terms with Mori. At least, that’s what I noticed my first day here.”

Ryuunosuke grimaced at the suggestion.

“Oh, come on.” Atsushi couldn’t help but smile—he found something mesmerizing about seeing Akutagawa so openly emotional.

“Better to ask Chuuya instead. I’m not dealing with that idiot Dazai.”

“Fine. We’ll do that.”

Time was running short. If they didn’t hurry, they really would be late.

When the two boys stepped into the room, their classmates already gathered around a low table covered with pizza boxes and bottles of soda, Gin’s brows lifted in quiet surprise.

But once she looked closer, that surprise deepened into something sharper.

Atsushi… was wearing Ryuunosuke’s clothes.

And not only that—they had arrived together, side by side, as though it were the most natural thing in the world.

Her gaze darted immediately to Tachihara. Her eyes blazed with silent accusation, practically shouting, “See? I told you!”

The red-haired boy froze, remembering their recent conversation.

“Hey, Tachihara… Don’t you think Atsushi and Ryuunosuke might actually be… together?”

He’d been sitting at the kitchen table that day, calmly eating his lunch, when the question hit him so suddenly he nearly choked on his food.

“What makes you think that? Didn’t Ryuunosuke reject Atsushi before?”

“Yes… but… don’t you feel like they’re growing closer each time we see them? They’re always together…”

“Maybe they decided to forget about all that and just stay friends.”

“But isn’t that strange? To stay friends with someone who turned down your feelings?”

“Hell if I know. Maybe Atsushi found someone else, and now they’re both pretending nothing ever happened.”

“…Or maybe I was wrong from the start?”

For the first time, Tachihara noticed something unsettling in Gin’s expression. The usual calm steel in her eyes had been replaced by a quiet sadness, almost fragile.

“What are you talking about?” Tachihara frowned.

“Well… that time I saw Atsushi bring Ryuunosuke his favorite cakes, I immediately thought he must have feelings for him. After all, Ryuunosuke never told anyone about his weakness for sweets. So I thought… maybe there was already something between them—or at least something starting. I don’t know. And the way Atsushi acted… He denied everything from the very beginning, but I kept pressing, convinced he was just trying to hide it. And because of me… rumors started spreading. I guess I did something really awful…”

Her voice trembled as she rambled on, until suddenly she felt a warm hand gently covering her mouth. She hadn’t even noticed Tachihara moving closer.

“Hey… stop. None of this is your fault,” he said quietly. “And maybe, it even helped them get closer. After that whole thing, they really did start looking more like friends… weird friends, sure, but still.”

“Mmmf… you reawy fiwmufish,” she mumbled into his hand.

“What?” He blinked, pulling his hand away and meeting her wide, dark eyes, so clear and striking it almost startled him.

“You really think so?” she asked.

“Of course. If anything, think of it this way—you’re the reason they became friends.”

“…But there’s still something that bothers me,” Gin admitted, her voice suddenly more serious.

“And what’s that?”

“…What if Atsushi is a stalker?”

Tachihara froze, his thoughts screeching to a halt. Sometimes the way her mind leapt from one conclusion to another left him completely out of his depth.

“Uh… how the hell did you come up with that?”

Atsushi was, in his mind, possibly the gentlest guy on earth. If he turned out to be some kind of stalker, Tachihara swore he’d swim across the whole damn ocean in a single day.

“Well,” Gin continued with alarming sincerity, “when Ryuunosuke was in the hospital, he asked me if I’d ever told Atsushi about that bakery. I said no. And then… his whole expression changed. Like he was scared, or like he suddenly realized something. I couldn’t tell. But what if Atsushi was following him all along, like some creepy stalker murderer? Or maybe he’s just been secretly obsessed with my brother this whole time, in some unhealthy way, or—”

“Riiiight…” Tachihara dragged the word out deliberately, cutting off Gin before her imagination carried her too far.

Gin really was something else. Tachihara had never realized a single person could hold so many contradictions at once. She was playful, reckless even, but beneath that mischief was a heart that cared deeply—especially for her brother. Her wild theories weren’t born of malice. They came from worry.

Even if that meant accusing Nakajima of being a stalker. God help him.

“Maybe you don’t know the whole picture?” Tachihara offered gently, trying to steer her away from that line of thought. “What if they’ve met outside of school? There could be a simpler explanation.”

He just wanted her to relax. To stop chewing on the past. And honestly, he really wanted to enjoy lunch with the most beautiful girl in the world without conspiracy theories hanging over their heads.

But Gin only gasped, her eyes widening as if she’d just cracked the case of the century.

“Wait—what if… what if they’re in a secret relationship! What if my brother actually fell in love with his stalker? Oh my god! And now they’re trying to keep it hidden?”

…Yeah. That was pretty much how their conversations went.

And after what had happened at the party, Gin seemed even more convinced of her theory. Now, as the two boys took their seats on the couch, she kept shooting Tachihara those “I told you so” looks across the room.

The worst part? He was starting to wonder if maybe she wasn’t completely wrong.

He tried to brush it off, but after the incident with the closet, after seeing Ryuunosuke drag Atsushi upstairs, it was getting harder to shake off the feeling. The whole thing was just… weird. Really weird.

Then Gin leaned in, whispering hotly in his ear: “Atsushi is wearing Ryuunosuke’s clothes!”

…You’ve got to be kidding me.

Tachihara’s eyes snapped back toward the pair.

Sure enough, they were sitting casually, digging into pizza, listening to Kenji argue with himself over which song to sing first.

Tachihara knew Ryuunosuke well enough to notice when something was off. And right now, he was off. Very off.

This was the same guy who pushed everyone away, the same guy who radiated “don’t touch me” with every breath. And yet, he’d let Atsushi walk in wearing his clothes?

Unthinkable.

And worse: his whole demeanor shifted when Atsushi was around.

Right now, for example, they were on the verge of starting a food fight with pizza crusts.

Since when did Ryuunosuke even allow himself to smile?

Catching the stunned look on Tachihara’s face, Gin finally exhaled in relief.

At least she wasn’t the only one who’d seen it.

Even Ranpo and that librarian—there was clearly something between them. But for some reason, Gin felt like no one really understood just how deep it is.

Why were her classmates always both aware and oblivious at the same time?

She let out a quiet sigh and finally allowed herself to relax. Maybe tonight, she and Tachihara could once again dance and sing their favorite songs together, carefree and happy.

Chapter Text

Atsushi had no idea what to expect, but whatever was happening in this room could only be described as complete chaos.

His classmates were having the time of their lives, singing songs he’d never even heard before, some of them dancing wildly on the table… wow.

Meanwhile, he kept to himself, sitting quietly on the couch beside Ryuunosuke, who was calmly sipping his drink without much interest in the madness around them.

At first, Atsushi noticed Gin and Tachihara whispering to each other while sneaking glances his way. It made him uneasy, but soon he and Akutagawa got pulled into a heated debate over which seasoning belonged on pizza. The argument grew so intense that they were on the verge of a fight—until Kenji stepped in, grabbing both of their wrists with surprising strength. Atsushi would’ve never guessed that someone with Kenji’s small frame could be that strong.

Gin and Tachihara seemed to lose interest in them entirely, throwing themselves into the heart of the chaos. They were now the loudest of the bunch, screaming a grating love song at the top of their lungs, clinging to each other as if the world depended on it.

Akutagawa, by this point, seemed resigned to their antics, simply ignoring the way they clung together so sweetly.

Truthfully, Atsushi had thought he might enjoy himself here, but the opposite happened. The more his classmates laughed and played, the stronger the feeling grew that he didn’t belong. That familiar burning loneliness crept back into his chest. But each time it threatened to overwhelm him, he reminded himself that Ryuunosuke was sitting right beside him. Even if they weren’t talking because the music was too loud, Akutagawa hadn’t moved away once—and somehow, that was comforting.

What Atsushi didn’t realize was that Kyōka had tried several times to approach him, only to freeze under Ryuunosuke’s glare. His eyes were so sharp, so coldly furious, that Kyōka’s whole body prickled with goosebumps. The thought of crossing that invisible line vanished instantly. Lucy, noticing her friend’s hesitation, tried to lift her spirits with silly songs and ridiculous dancing.

Lucy herself had no plans to approach Akutagawa either. What unsettled her was how he seemed to be protecting Atsushi, or maybe hiding him, from everyone else. She couldn’t quite tell. A few times she caught Gin’s eyes across the room, and the silent exchange between them only deepened her suspicions. Something about this was off.

Lucy hesitated. Only a short while ago, she and Kyōka had talked about being bold and not holding back when it came to Atsushi. But now… that plan didn’t feel so simple anymore.

The music cut off abruptly, and Ranpo’s cheerful voice rang out as he held up the microphone.

“So, who’s singing next?”

“What about Ryuunosuke? He hasn’t sung once tonight…” Higuchi suggested gently.

“The same goes for Atsushi,” Kyōka added, earning a dark glare from Akutagawa.

But she was done letting him ruin her plans. Tonight, she was determined to get her moment with Atsushi.

“I refuse,” Akutagawa said flatly.

“I… I’m not singing either,” Atsushi admitted quickly. The truth was, he didn’t recognize a single song his classmates had performed, and he was sure his taste in music would only make him stand out more than he already did.

And on top of it all, Akutagawa looked darker than a thundercloud. Had something really set him off?

“Stop staring,” Ryuunosuke muttered low enough for only Atsushi to hear.

He quickly averted his gaze.

Yeah… he definitely looked furious.

Still, Kyōka’s eyes stayed fixed on Akutagawa, sharp and unyielding, even though she was clearly too nervous to actually go near him.

“What’s the matter, Akutagawa? Afraid you can’t handle it?” Tachihara smirked, trying to provoke him.

Ryuunosuke didn’t even flinch.

“Exactly! Come on, sing already!” Junichirou chimed in eagerly.

“I don’t think that’s—” Atsushi started to defend the dark-haired boy, but Gin cut him off.

“I know a song he’ll definitely sing,” she said, her eyes glinting with mischief.

Finally, Ryuunosuke stirred. His eyes snapped to his sister, and Atsushi swore he looked even angrier than before.

“Really?!” Higuchi clapped her hands in delight.

“Play it!” Naomi cheered from where she sat perched on her brother’s lap, fingers tangled lazily in his hair.

“Gin.” The way Akutagawa said her name—it wasn’t just a warning. It was commanding, sharp as a blade.

Atsushi… wanted to hear that tone again.

But Gin ignored him entirely, already typing the song title into the karaoke machine.

Akutagawa moved to stand, but Ranpo’s voice rang out cheerfully:

“Atsushi, hold him down!”

“Quick, before he gets away!” Higuchi shouted, almost laughing.

Atsushi didn’t even know why he obeyed, but before he realized it, his hand shot out and grabbed Ryuunosuke’s arm, dragging him back down onto the couch.

The dark-haired boy struggled hard, shoving against him, but Atsushi was quicker. With one swift move, he twisted both of Ryuunosuke’s wrists behind his back and pushed him face-first into the cushions.

“You bastard!” Ryuunosuke yelled, thrashing under his grip.

Atsushi couldn’t help the small laugh that slipped out.

And then, as if some reckless spark lit up inside him, he leaned down close, close enough for only Ryuunosuke to hear.

“Shh… I’ll be gentle.”

Ryuunosuke froze.

He actually stopped breathing.

For a heartbeat, Atsushi panicked.

He held both of Ryuunosuke’s wrists with one hand, and with the other, he cupped his face, turning it toward him.

Ryuunosuke’s cheeks burned red. His eyes darted anywhere but Atsushi’s.

And that’s when it hit Atsushi—he’d crossed a line again. A big one. His chest tightened, his pulse hammering in his ears. He let go at once and sat back, trying to calm the wild rhythm of his heart.

What was wrong with him lately?

Thankfully, their classmates hadn’t noticed a thing. Their attention was locked on the karaoke screen, where Gin had just entered the title of the next song: “Join Me in Death — HIM.”

No one seemed to recognize the song… Atsushi wasn’t sure, either. What kind of song would Ryuunosuke ever willingly sing?

And then, to his surprise, a familiar melody filled the room.

And then it hit him—he knew this song. More than that, it was one of his favorites. He had simply forgotten the name.

Ryuunosuke pulled himself together and ignored Atsushi’s latest joke. He wasn’t about to let himself look flustered, not in front of everyone.

He rose from the couch, collected now, and snatched the microphone from Gin’s hand before she could pass it properly.

The gentle melody tangled with the raw passion of the guitar.

Without hesitation, he began to sing.

We are so young~

Our lives have just begun

Atsushi was stunned, just as much as everyone else. Akutagawa… singing? And not grudgingly, not begrudgingly forced into it, but as though he meant it. Gin had known exactly what she was doing.

But already, we are considering~

Escape from this world…

Nakajima had never known he could sing. Never known he ever sang. And he certainly hadn’t expected his voice to sound this… breathtaking.

And we’ve waited for so long

For this moment to come

We’re so anxious to be together

Together in death

Whoa—oh…

The white-haired boy froze, watching the dark silhouette. The movement of his lips, the way his throat worked, the sharp rhythm of his foot tapping against the floor. Atsushi couldn’t tear his eyes away.

Before he even realized what he was doing, his hand reached for the spare microphone on the table. He stood, stepping forward until he was beside Ryuunosuke.

The dark-haired boy turned at the movement, eyes locking with Atsushi’s just as the next part of the song came.

“Won’t you die tonight for love?” Akutagawa’s voice rose, high and precise, trained through years of private karaoke battles with Gin.

“Baby, join me in death.” Atsushi’s lower, steadier voice joined in, surprising everyone. Truth be told, aside from them, and Gin, no one in the room seemed to know the song at all.

Their eyes met again, holding each other in that fragile, electric moment.

“Won’t you die?” Ryuunosuke sang.

“Baby, join me in death,” Atsushi echoed, completely enthralled.

The rest of the world blurred. For a moment, nothing mattered but the boy standing in front of him.

“But won’t you die tonight for love?”

“Baby, join me in death…” Atsushi murmured, unable to match Ryuunosuke’s soaring notes, but their voices blended together, weaving something whole, something perfect.

The music carried on, urging them into the second verse, but neither of them moved. They stood there, breathless, caught in the silence between heartbeats.

That wild pulse again… those eyes again… that strange, terrifying pull inside…

“What is this?” Atsushi thought.

“Why again…?” Akutagawa wondered.

Their pupils widened at the same time, as if the realization had struck them both.

“I think…” Atsushi’s mind whispered.

“Me? No… all of this… because of him?” Akutagawa’s chest tightened.

Neither finished the thought. They didn’t need to. Because they both knew one thing—the word “love” didn’t fit. This was something deeper. Something heavier. Something harder to name.

The lyrics echoed in their heads.

To die together?

Yes… maybe that was the closest way to describe it.

They barely noticed their classmates whispering, calling their names, trying to snap them out of it.

And then, like a trap snapping shut, they realized what had happened. They’d fallen into something new, something dangerous.

And it was terrifying.

The moment shattered when Kyōka slipped her small hand into Atsushi’s, tugging him firmly toward the door.

The door slammed shut behind them.

Ryuunosuke finally allowed himself to breathe. He hadn’t even realized he’d been holding it in until his chest burned with the release.

All those emotions came crashing down at once.

“Was that real?” he kept asking himself.

“Ryuu… are you okay?” his sister’s soft voice broke through his thoughts.

He snapped his head toward her so fast his neck twinged.

“Ah—yeah… yeah, I’m fine,” he answered quickly, his eyes darting around the room.

Every gaze was still fixed on him.

Wait.

Just a second ago…

Kyōka and Atsushi had left the room?!

A spark of anger flared in his chest.

No. Absolutely not.

She couldn’t just walk off with him. Not now. Not in that moment.

He needed to talk to Nakajima.

He was certain the silver-haired boy had something to say too.

Atsushi didn’t understand what was happening.

One moment he was standing across from Ryuunosuke, his heart pounding with the weight of a new realization, and the next, he was outside, pulled into a dimly lit alleyway beside Kyōka.

The cool night air smelled faintly of street food and damp pavement. Neon lights from a nearby café flickered against the walls, but here, in the narrow passage, it was shadowy and quiet.

He hadn’t even noticed how she’d dragged him out by the hand, or that their fingers were still loosely intertwined.

“Atsushi!” she suddenly shouted, snapping him out of his haze.

“A–ah? Yes?” he stammered, finally meeting her eyes.

“Sorry for being so sudden! It’s just… Akutagawa never lets me talk to you properly,” she blurted, her words tumbling over each other. Her gaze flickered nervously, and when it fell to their joined hands, she pulled away quickly, cheeks burning red.

Atsushi barely noticed. At the mere mention of Akutagawa’s name, his stomach tightened painfully.

“So… I was wondering if you’d like to go out together. Just the two of us. Maybe the movies… or we could—” Kyōka kept talking, but Atsushi was already sinking deep into his own thoughts.

“Ryuunosuke… When did this even start? This is a disaster. What if I told him how I feel? What if he pulled away again? Back then, he thought I liked him and rejected me outright… but maybe now… maybe something has changed? No… How could he ever…? And how could I…?

Like? That word doesn’t even fit. It’s not like that. It’s… I don’t know.”

His chest felt tight, as though the thoughts themselves were suffocating him.

“—shi! Atsushi!” Kyōka’s voice rose again, tugging him out of the spiral.

“Sorry! I… I was lost in thought. What did you say?”

Her expression dimmed.

“Ah—please don’t be upset!” Atsushi said quickly, waving his hands as if trying to undo his mistake. “Could you repeat it, please?”

“I… I said maybe you and I could go somewhere together…” she murmured softly, barely looking at him.

“Ah… uh…” He faltered. Kyōka was a good friend. And maybe… maybe saying yes would keep her from looking so downcast. Atsushi wasn’t someone who could stand to hurt her—he was supposed to help people, not bring them pain.

“Sure. Of course,” he finally said.

Her whole face lit up. Her eyes sparkled with joy, and in a rush of emotion she grabbed his hands in both of hers, clutching them tightly.

“Perfect! I’ll text you the time and place!” she said brightly, her cheeks glowing with excitement. And then, before Atsushi could respond, she spun on her heel and ran back into the building, vanishing through the doorway.

The alley grew quiet again, leaving Atsushi standing alone in the dim light, his heart still pounding for reasons he didn’t dare name.

Akutagawa refused to believe it was love. He couldn’t believe it.

No.

No.

No.

No.

He had to talk to Atsushi. He had to figure out what this feeling really was.

It had all started after he met Nakajima. And if this thing truly was close to that cursed word beginning with “L,” then Ryuunosuke would rather lose his mind than admit it.

Take Gin and Tachihara for example. That was love—soft gestures, gentle touches, stolen kisses.

Stop.

Ryuunosuke’s chest tightened as an image flashed through his memory—yesterday, lying in the snow with Atsushi. That fleeting, maddening thought. That sharp, undeniable want. Why had he wished Atsushi’s teasing had been real? Why had he wanted him to actually… kiss him?

Impossible.

This wasn’t him.

But surely this couldn’t be love. When you loved someone, didn’t you feel warm, tender, patient? Not like this—not irritated, not provoked, not constantly itching to fight.

And yet… why was he ready to forgive Atsushi everything? The wounds on his chest throbbed, a harsh reminder of yesterday, but they didn’t matter. None of it mattered.

He was willing to lose everything but not him.

That was the strangest part of all.

Once, Ryuunosuke had sworn never to forgive him, never to involve himself with him again. And yet here he was, walking to the main entrance with only one thought in his mind: Atsushi.

The heavy doors swung open, spilling cold night air over him. The courtyard was empty, silent except for the crunch of his shoes on frost.

No sign of him.

Jaw tight, Ryuunosuke circled the building, searching. And then he found it. A side exit, pale light spilling into a narrow alley.

Two figures stood there.

Kyōka’s hands were wrapped around Atsushi’s, her expression radiant, bright in a way that stabbed through Ryuunosuke’s chest.

His throat burned.

It looked… natural. Right, even.

“Idiot,” he cursed himself. “Did you really think you deserved—”

The thought strangled itself before it could finish. His head dropped, shadows hiding his face. Without another glance, he turned back toward the building, steps quick and uneven.

Atsushi would be better off without him. At best, they were classmates. Perhaps… friends. Nothing more.

That was all Ryuunosuke was allowed to hope for.

He had nothing to offer. No wealth, no real home, not even the ability to express the storm inside him. What right did he have to hold onto someone like Atsushi?

Atsushi was a hero. He was important, essential to this world. Ryuunosuke, however, would always be nothing more than a void. He wasn’t worthy of Atsushi.

Better to walk away before he said something he couldn’t take back.

And so, he left. Alone. Heading toward his empty apartment.

As soon as Kyōka darted off, Atsushi’s thoughts betrayed him, circling back to the dark-haired boy.

Damn it.

Ryuunosuke was… breathtaking. Too much for him.

“Akutagawa doesn’t deserve someone like me.” he thought to himself.

But maybe, just once, Atsushi wanted to be selfish. He wanted to learn how to love. He wanted—no, needed—to be someone important to Akutagawa.

Even if they bickered like children, even if they clashed and drew blood, even if nothing between them was easy. He wanted to hold on.

Because Ryuunosuke was all he had. The only good thing that felt real.

He had to talk to him.

Returning to the karaoke room, Atsushi’s chest sank when he realized the boy was gone.

“Hey, where’s Akutagawa?” he asked quickly.

His classmates were chatting idly, the karaoke machine forgotten.

“Uh… I think he went after you?” Gin offered, her voice uncertain.

“What? But I didn’t see him.”

“Maybe he left?” Higuchi suggested. Her eyes lit up. “I can go look for him!”

“No.” Atsushi didn’t mean for it to come out so harsh, but it did.

The blonde flinched, lips pressing shut.

“He went home,” Ranpo finally muttered, sounding far too casual.

Atsushi nodded curtly, grabbed both his and Ryuunosuke’s things, and left the room.

God.

Had he really gone out into the freezing night without even his coat?

Nakajima hurried off, determination building in his chest.

“What the hell is going on with those two?” Tachihara asked as the door shut behind Atsushi.

“Who knows…” Kenji shrugged, reaching for a snack.

“Let’s just forget it and keep having fun,” Lucy chimed in, her cheerful voice cutting through the lingering tension.

“Wait—I need to tell you something!” Kyōka whispered urgently to her friend, tugging her aside.

“What do you think, Ranpo?” Junichirou asked.

“The next song’s mine!” Ranpo declared loudly, snatching up the mic and drawing laughter from the group, restoring the broken rhythm of the party.

Only Gin stayed quiet. Her brother’s lost expression replayed in her mind over and over.

“Ryuu… what’s happening between you two?”

Her thoughts drowned beneath the music and noise

“Ryuunosuke! Open the door!”

For half an hour now, Atsushi had been banging his fists raw against the wooden door, voice breaking from the effort. Why was Ryuunosuke shutting him out like this? What had gotten into him?

“Leave.”

The voice from behind the door was faint, fragile.

“Why?! I don’t understand, Ryuu! Please… explain. Did I do something wrong?”

“Don’t call me that.” came the reply, even quieter than before.

“Then tell me why you’re avoiding me! We… we had such a good time together, didn’t we?”

The silence between them was heavier than steel. Atsushi’s chest ached. Just when he’d begun to realize how deeply tied his heart was to Akutagawa, the raven-haired boy was already slipping away.

Atsushi wanted to hold him, to pull him close, maybe even more than that—but how could he, when he didn’t even know what Ryuunosuke truly felt?

“Atsushi… I’m not in a state to talk to you right now.”

The words stung like cold knives. Atsushi’s breath caught in his throat.

“Then at least tell me what’s wrong!” he demanded, raising his voice.

The neighbors downstairs thumped irritably against the ceiling, but Atsushi didn’t care.

“I can’t. Just leave me alone.”

Footsteps shuffled away from the door.

No.

Absolutely not.

Atsushi wasn’t going to let him run.

“After everything you told me! About how I could finally think about myself! After everything we went through together… How could you?!” His voice cracked with anger.

And then—he snapped. The door swung open with a deafening crash, fragments of wood scattering across the floor.

Ryuunosuke rushed into the hallway at the sound. Their eyes locked, heavy with everything unspoken between them.

“What the hell are you doing?!” Akutagawa lunged at him, and in an instant, fists flew.

It was reckless. Foolish. They could have sat down and spoken like human beings, but no, they both chose to fight as if the winner could decide the fate of the other’s heart.

Atsushi held back at first, not wanting to hurt him, but Ryuunosuke’s blows came fast and merciless, striking his face, his chest, knocking the air from his lungs. The restraint slipped. Emotions exploded. They fought evenly now, tumbling across the cramped apartment, knocking into walls, the floor trembling beneath them.

They crashed into the kitchen. Atsushi shoved Ryuunosuke against the cabinets. Plates rained down, shattering into jagged shards. Blood streaked down Akutagawa’s leg. Atsushi froze at the sight—only to take another punch across the face that sent him reeling to the floor.

Pinned beneath him, Atsushi stared up at Ryuunosuke’s face—his hair falling loose, his pale skin flushed, his fists trembling. And… was he crying?

Akutagawa’s blows rained down, frantic, desperate, but his own heart was tearing apart. He didn’t even know why he was hitting him. The pain inside was unbearable, overwhelming. His hand lifted once more—then stopped mid-air, trembling.

Atsushi didn’t resist. He would endure anything, everything, if it meant staying close to him. Even if Akutagawa beat him bloody, even if it killed him, Atsushi would accept it. That’s how much he needed him.

When Ryuunosuke finally stopped, tears spilling freely, Atsushi felt his own throat tighten. He had hurt him again. He had failed him again.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” Atsushi whispered, staring into those dark eyes swollen with grief.

“Don’t apologize, idiot!” Akutagawa’s voice cracked, half scream, half sob. “Why are you even apologizing?”

They gasped for breath. Both of them stayed silent, yet it felt as though the silence stretched on for an eternity.

“I… I didn’t mean it,” Ryuunosuke stammered at last, glancing at Atsushi’s bloodied face, his nose bleeding. “I didn’t want to hurt you… I just—… I’m the one at fault… I just—…”

Panic shook his words apart.

Atsushi’s hand reached out, shaky but gentle, and closed around his. “It’s okay,” he whispered, even as his lip bled.

Ryuunosuke’s eyes widened. “Idiot… stop saying that nonsense!” He yanked his hand back, trembling. “I didn’t want this… I didn’t want to hurt you… I—…” His voice broke completely.

How could Atsushi care so little about his own life? Ryuunosuke couldn’t understand. He had been clinging to life since childhood, fighting to survive no matter what… but this fool lying beneath him… Yeah. They were both idiots.

If it ever came to a choice, Akutagawa knew he would give up his life for Atsushi without hesitation. But whatever this was, it couldn’t be called love. No… this couldn’t be love…

Atsushi’s hands rose gently, brushing tears from his cheeks with the pads of his thumbs.

When their eyes met again, Atsushi smiled faintly through the pain.

They were both so lost.

Ryuunosuke collapsed against him, burying his face in Atsushi’s chest. And no matter how much he wanted to kiss that idiot, he couldn’t… Atsushi would be better off with someone more normal. Someone like Kyōka.

And as much as Atsushi wanted to whisper his feelings, to tell Akutagawa everything, he couldn’t. Not now. Not after this. Ryuu needed rest. He needed space.

Maybe he hated him again. Maybe Atsushi had ruined everything.

Because why else…Why else would they have fought like that? Why else would Ryuunosuke have cried?

Atsushi closed his eyes.

Once again, he drifted into sleep with pain still heavy in his chest.

But this time, there was warmth beside him.

Chapter Text

Ryuunosuke finally felt calm again. He pushed himself up and noticed Atsushi… fast asleep.

Seriously?

Still, he couldn’t stay angry. Atsushi’s bruised face looked strangely peaceful now, as if the storm between them had never happened.

Ryuunosuke let his eyes wander around the room.

What a mess they’d made.

He tried to stand and start cleaning, but a sharp pain shot through his leg. Right — the cut from the shards on the floor. He’d have to treat it before it got worse.

And then there was the broken lock on the door, Nakajima’s doing, of course, that needed fixing.

His eyes drifted back to Atsushi.

It wouldn’t hurt to let him sleep on the floor a little longer, would it?

He wasn’t strong enough to lift him anyway. The best he could do was fetch a blanket and drape it gently over him.

Atsushi had no idea how long he’d slept. The floor was hard and uncomfortable, but exhaustion had won out, wrapping him in heavy, dreamless rest.

When he finally stirred, his back ached, and something soft brushed his cheek—a blanket.

Pushing up on his elbows, he glanced around. The apartment looked spotless, as if the fight had never happened.

And it was suspiciously quiet.

Where was Ryuunosuke?

Atsushi scrambled to his feet too fast, and for a moment the room spun around him. Steadying himself, he searched every corner of the apartment, even peeking into Gin’s old room, the one where he’d spent his first night in Ryuunosuke’s home.

He really wasn’t anywhere to be found.

Just as Atsushi was about to call Akutagawa, the apartment door swung open.

He turned toward the sound, and met the eyes of the boy who had turned his life completely upside down.

Ryuunosuke stood there holding a few grocery bags. So he’d only gone shopping.
A wave of relief washed over Atsushi, easing the knot in his chest.

For a moment, he’d been certain he was the reason for Ryuunosuke’s sudden disappearance — that he’d driven him away.

Almost without thinking, Atsushi’s feet carried him forward, arms parting slightly, longing to pull him into a hug.

But he stopped himself the moment he caught the wary look in Ryuunosuke’s eyes.

The dark-haired boy had tensed at Atsushi’s approach.

Quickly, Atsushi reached for the bags instead, taking them from Ryuunosuke’s hands and heading toward the kitchen.

On the way, he silently scolded himself — what was he thinking, trying to hug him like that?

Idiot.

The faint smell of cigarettes clung to Ryuunosuke again. Atsushi noticed how rarely he smoked in front of him now. What did that even mean?

Akutagawa, still unsure how to read Atsushi’s behavior, followed him inside. The air between them stayed heavy, thick with things left unsaid.

“I talked to Chuuya,” Ryuunosuke said at last, unpacking the groceries. “He sent me the address. We’re supposed to meet him at seven.”

“What?” Atsushi blinked, puzzled by the sudden mention of Chuuya.

“Don’t tell me you forgot. What about our plan? We still need to get the footage from the security cameras,” Akutagawa explained, keeping his gaze fixed on the food in his hands. Looking at Atsushi hurt too much, hurt because he wanted to be closer, yet knew he shouldn’t.

Atsushi felt his own chest tighten. Ryuunosuke felt different somehow, distant.

How could he fix this? Had Akutagawa really thrown away everything they’d shared?

“Ah… right,” Atsushi muttered at last. How could he have forgotten? His real focus should be getting Spider-Man back and fighting crime, not losing himself in feelings he barely understood.

After saying that, Ryuunosuke disappeared into his room and closed the door behind him, a quiet hint that he didn’t want to be disturbed.

All Atsushi could do was wait for evening.

At one point, a repair crew arrived with a new door, and Ryuunosuke spoke with them while they worked.

Of course, Atsushi couldn’t help stepping in, he insisted on paying for everything.

When the job was finally done, Ryuunosuke disappeared back into his room, and the white-haired boy still couldn’t get a proper word with him.

About an hour before the meeting, Akutagawa stepped out and handed Atsushi a neatly folded set of clothes.

Without a word, Atsushi accepted them and slipped into Gin’s room to change. The silence between them felt heavier than anything either of them wore.

Ryuunosuke clicked his tongue as they finally arrived at the place Chuuya had sent them. Of course, it turned out to be a bar, its doorway leaking the sharp scent of alcohol into the cool night air.

Inside, the atmosphere was softer than expected. Warm light glowed from brass sconces, and a low jazz melody floated lazily across the room. Polished wood tables gleamed under the dim lamps, and a few patrons spoke quietly over half-finished drinks.

Still, Ryuunosuke knew that by midnight the mood would change — the elegant calm replaced by the rowdy energy of men fighting over the last word.

From the farthest table, a familiar shock of brown hair popped up. Naturally, it was Dazai.

“Atsushiii! Akutagawaaa! Over here!” he called, far too loudly.

Heads turned. The brunette, of course, didn’t care, though his partner promptly smacked him on the head in warning.

Ryuunosuke rubbed at his temple. What kind of night were they in for?

What annoyed him most, though, wasn’t Dazai’s volume but how ridiculously good Atsushi looked in a tuxedo. The jacket was a touch too snug, tracing the lines of his shoulders and arms. Ryuunosuke had to remind himself not to stare.

Not that he realized Atsushi was thinking the exact same thing about him in formal wear.

They made their way to the table and sat across from their mentors.

“Good to see you, boys,” Dazai purred, resting his chin on his hand. “So, what’s new with you?”

Chuuya greeted them with a brief nod, a faint smile tugging at his lips. On the table between them lay thick steaks, still steaming, and an unopened bottle of wine catching the amber glow of the lights.

“Nothing new,” Akutagawa replied coolly.

“Oh, really?” Dazai arched an eyebrow, his lips curling into a teasing smile. “Because I could’ve sworn something interesting happened at Kyōka’s party, hmm?”

If Akutagawa was smart enough not to flinch, Atsushi wasn’t so lucky, a faint blush crept across his cheeks.

Of course, Dazai caught it instantly.

“Would you just shut up,” Chuuya cut in before Osamu could continue whatever interrogation, or conversation,  this was turning into. He reached for the wine bottle and poured himself a glass. “So, what exactly did you two need from us?”

Atsushi and Ryuunosuke exchanged a glance, each waiting for the other to speak first.

In the quiet, Chuuya leaned back, sipping his wine, while Dazai shot him a wounded look for stealing his fun.

“We need access to the school’s security footage,” Akutagawa said at last.

Both older men blinked in surprise. Chuuya choked on his drink, coughing so hard the wine nearly went up his nose. His husband immediately thumped him on the back, trying to help.

The sight was absurd enough that a few nearby tables turned to glare at the commotion.

“I didn’t realize you two were… well, that,” Chuuya managed once he caught his breath.

“Honestly,” Dazai added, still looking half-amused, half-stunned, “do you really enjoy doing things like that in public places?”

Akutagawa froze mid-sentence.

What on earth are they talking about?

And then it clicked.

They think we— wait, what?!

“If you needed something erased from the cameras,” Chuuya continued, lowering his voice as if sharing a secret, “you should’ve said so from the start… Did it happen during exams?”

Realization hit Atsushi like a bucket of cold water.

“Oh my god, no! Nobody did anything at school!” he burst out, making several patrons glance their way again.

Ryuunosuke tried to keep a straight face. He really did. But his traitorous mind kept flashing images: Atsushi’s bare torso, those strong arms, the dark, steady gaze that made it hard to breathe—

Stop!

Enough.

Still, a reluctant blush found its way onto his face.

“A-ah… then why exactly do you need the recordings?” Chuuya asked, finally understanding there’d been a massive misunderstanding. He and Dazai exchanged a look, clearly, they’d had their own share of questionable school memories.

“Ahem… let’s start from the beginning,” Atsushi said, forcing himself back to the present.

For the next fifteen minutes, he and Ryuunosuke carefully laid out everything they’d witnessed on the day Spider-Man had been branded a villain, nervously explaining their theories while the soft jazz in the background filled the spaces between their words.

“So… the cameras might have caught proof that someone actually took control of the real hero?” Chuuya mused, drumming his fingers lightly against the table.

“I’ll help,” Dazai said at once, leaning forward as soon as the boys finished their story.

All three turned to him in surprise. Why was he agreeing so quickly?

“I’ve thought from the start that something about this doesn’t add up,” Dazai explained, a sly glint in his eyes. “Your theory actually makes sense. Our hero is far too kind, and far too strong, to just break that easily.”

Chuuya had already spoken with his husband about this, and they’d reached the same conclusion almost immediately. Still, it felt like Dazai knew something more, something he wasn’t sharing. Otherwise, why was he so eager to help Akutagawa and Atsushi?

“But there’s a price,” Dazai added with a foxlike smile.

“Damn it,” Akutagawa thought, meeting his gaze. Osamu’s grin only widened.

“You’ll drink with us tonight,” Dazai declared, “and you’ll tell us what exactly happened between you two.”

“Nothing happened,” Atsushi said quickly, hoping to calm the situation, though all he really did was make it worse.

“You’re both acting stranger than usual,” Dazai pressed, while Chuuya calmly ignored him and nursed his wine. “I’d say you’re pushing each other away.”

Ryuunosuke’s eyes darkened like storm clouds. “What a bastard,” he thought. Chuuya quietly refilled everyone’s glasses, the red wine catching the soft light from the bar’s hanging lamps.

“Come on, drink,” Dazai coaxed, brushing his lips against the rim of his own glass.

Atsushi looked uncertainly at the liquid before him. He knew alcohol could stir something inside him, something dark. Maybe it wasn’t a good idea. But a deal was a deal, and wasn’t saving people more important than his fears?

He hesitated, fingers curling around the glass, ready to lift it, but a slender hand stopped him.

Ryuunosuke took a sip of his own wine, his other hand firmly covering Atsushi’s glass.

“He doesn’t drink,” Akutagawa said quietly, meeting Chuuya’s puzzled gaze and Dazai’s mischievous one.

“That won’t do,” Dazai said, feigning disappointment. “Why should you decide for him? Don’t you two need that security footage?”

Atsushi knew it was manipulation. He knew that if he drank, there’d be a point where he wouldn’t remember what he did until the haze cleared. Something inside him, like a caged monster, might wake up.

But… Ryuunosuke was here. Surely he’d pull him back to reality, like last time… unless Atsushi ended up hurting him again.

Akutagawa released his hold on the glass, leaving the choice entirely to Atsushi.

The white-haired boy wavered, torn between caution and resolve.

“I’ll handle whatever happens,” Ryuunosuke murmured, his voice low enough for only Atsushi to hear.

Atsushi turned toward him, but Akutagawa just kept calmly drinking, not giving anything away.

If he said that… then maybe it would be alright.

With that thought, Atsushi downed the wine in a single gulp.

The burn slid down his throat, sharp and heavy. His head grew light, the room swaying as his hold on reality began to slip.

Atsushi’s eyes dulled, losing their usual brightness.

Ryuunosuke tensed without meaning to.

All because of Dazai.

Now he’d have to spend the rest of the night dealing with this idiot, and with Atsushi, who might do absolutely anything.

“Well, that’s better,” Osamu said cheerfully. “So, Ryuunosuke, did you two have a fight?”

Chuuya clicked his tongue.

“Leave the kids alone. They’ll argue and make up on their own — stay out of it,” the redhead said, nudging his husband with an elbow.

“Oh, come on! That’s no fun,” Dazai replied.

Akutagawa decided to ignore the teachers and focus on Atsushi, who was still staring into nothing.

Damn.

“Fine, let’s change the subject,” Osamu said at last, clearly reluctant.

“Are you ready for school?” Chuuya asked, taking another sip of wine. His face had softened a little, maybe the alcohol was starting to work.

“Yes,” Ryuunosuke answered curtly.

“And your classmates?” the physics teacher went on.

“Yeah, how are they? I heard Gin and Tachihara are a couple now. What do you think about that, Akutagawa?” Dazai added with that devilish grin.

Ryuunosuke clenched his jaw. Ignoring Dazai, he kept his attention on Chuuya.

“I don’t think they’re quite ready either, considering how they we—”

A hand brushed his thigh.

Atsushi.

Damn.

The silver-haired boy calmly kept eating his steak, holding the fork in one hand — as if his other hand wasn’t creeping dangerously close to Ryuunosuke’s lap.

It took everything Akutagawa had to keep talking, to pretend nothing was happening.

“Considering how they were…ahem… just out singing karaoke,” he managed, voice strained, “I’d say they’d rather keep relaxing than get back to school… wh—which means they’re not ready.”

Atsushi’s fingers kept tracing slow circles along his thigh, sometimes sliding too close before pulling away again.

The teachers didn’t seem to notice Akutagawa’s sudden stumbles over his words. They were too busy devouring each other with their eyes.

God, why me?

Ryuunosuke thought, wishing he could light up a cigarette right there at the table.

They lingered another hour, discussing school matters while Atsushi finally settled down, letting his hands drift back to his own side and giving Ryuunosuke space to breathe.

When he did speak, Atsushi’s answers were short and quick — a clear sign he was tipsy.

The teachers knew perfectly well that both boys were aware of their relationship, so they didn’t bother to hide their touches or playful flirting. Watching it all made the dark-haired boy want to bolt.

Deciding they’d had enough for one night, Ryuunosuke and Atsushi said goodbye to the lovebirds and stepped out into the cool night air. They still had a long walk home ahead of them.

Akutagawa already knew that Nakajima would end up spending the night at his place again.

He turned toward the boy and caught his gaze, eyes dark with longing, full of an intensity that made Ryuunosuke’s stomach tighten.

Pushing the thought aside, he guided Atsushi toward the apartment.

To his surprise, Atsushi was steady on his feet this time. Maybe the alcohol was finally losing its hold on him, or perhaps he’d just learned how to keep himself in check. Compared to the last time, he’d done little more than tease Ryuunosuke at the table before letting it drop.

They entered the apartment in silence. As soon as Akutagawa locked the door and turned around, Atsushi was there — so close their clothes brushed.

When had he gotten that near?

“I’ve waited long enough,” Atsushi said, his voice low and rough. “That idiot kept getting in the way. I deserve a reward.”

Before Ryuunosuke could react, Atsushi’s hands framed his face, brushing stray strands of dark hair from his eyes. For a heartbeat Akutagawa wondered — did he mean the real Atsushi? Was the boy fighting himself?

Then their lips met.

It started as a quick, almost hesitant kiss, and Ryuunosuke forgot to breathe. That was a mistake. The next instant Atsushi tilted his head back sharply, forcing a startled hiss from him.

Taking advantage, Atsushi deepened the kiss, sliding his tongue past Ryuunosuke’s lips.

Air vanished; heat flooded in its place. Atsushi pressed closer, pinning him against the door with the weight of his body, the kiss hungry and unrelenting, as though he meant to devour him from the inside out.

A tightness coiled low in Ryuunosuke’s stomach.

“Mmh!” was all he could manage, trying to push Atsushi back. He needed to breathe — now.

Finally, Atsushi let go, though his eyes never left Ryuunosuke’s face. Both of them were panting, chests rising and falling hard.

“What the hell was that?” screamed a voice inside Akutagawa’s head.

No. No, no, no.

That wasn’t the real Atsushi — he wasn’t himself. Don’t read into it, Ryuunosuke. You won’t end up together. This is just… a rush, a slip in control. None of it is real.

He was so tangled in his own thoughts that he didn’t notice the metallic tang on his tongue until a drop of blood slid down his lip, Atsushi must have bitten him during the kiss.

The white-haired boy’s voice, darker now, broke the silence. “Let me take care of you… you look incredible with blood on your lips.”

A chill crawled down Ryuunosuke’s spine.

Shoving Atsushi away with all his strength, he bolted for the bathroom and slammed the door, twisting the lock with shaking fingers.

He could hear Nakajima fumbling at the door, trying to open it, muttering something.

But he didn't give a damn.

"None of this is real," he kept repeating to himself.

All he could hear was the frantic beating of his own heart. And every slight movement sent a pleasant friction rippling through his lower body…

Fuck…

This was all the alcohol's fault.

That was the single, solid thought in Ryuunosuke's mind as he slid his hand beneath his pants.

The moment he touched that already aching, tense part of himself, a shiver ran down his spine.

He touched himself with a slow, deliberate rhythm, powerless to stop the flood of filthy thoughts.

Atsushi.

Atsushi.

Atsushi.

Atsushi.

His body. His hands. His lips on his own. His smile. His eyes. His fists. His tears. His words.

Only him.

Atsushi.

Atsushi.

"Mghkh…" A pathetic mix of a gasp and a moan escaped Ryuunosuke's lips.

His breathing had long since lost its rhythm.

All his energy was focused on stifling his voice.

After all, Atsushi was still in the house.

He was on the edge.

Quickening his pace, he pictured himself standing before Atsushi.

Pathetic.

On his knees.

Begging him.

Humiliated.

He imagined Atsushi's hands tangling in his hair, pulling him close.

He imagined the rough way Atsushi would handle him.

"F-fuck…" he whispered hoarsely, slumped against the cold tile floor.

Atsushi.

Atsushi.

Atsushi.

This was becoming an addiction.

"A-ah!" Finally, he reached his limit.

He threw his head back against the door, gulping for air as he stared at the ceiling.

What had he just done?

He looked down and was met with a disgusting sight.

How pathetic he was.

He knew perfectly well that Nakajima was just drunk. But because of one stupid kiss, he had touched himself… in such a degrading way.

Ryuunosuke wouldn’t have been surprised if Atsushi had been imagining Kyōka while kissing him.

Morning.

Atsushi woke up in Gin’s bed, blinking against the soft light leaking through the curtains. How had he even made it home?

He was just about to sit up when the room lurched. A second later he crashed to the floor with a loud thud, pain shooting through his head.

The sting was bad, but not as bad as the flood of memories from the night before that suddenly hit him.

“Oh, fuck,” he muttered, clutching his head as he struggled to stand.

He…

He had kissed Ryuunosuke.

Shit!

He’d really kissed him.

And—

The strangest part was that Atsushi remembered hearing him in the bathroom afterward.

God.

So humiliating! Why had he even stayed there, listening?

And that voice… Ryuu’s voice—

No! Absolutely not!

Nakajima, you made a huge mistake. Ryuunosuke was already pulling away from you, and you barged into his personal space. You even put your hands on him — with two teachers sitting right there!

How awful can you get, Atsushi?

And anyway… maybe you imagined it! You were drunk. Not yourself. That wasn’t you.

You tried to fight it.

You don’t even know for sure what Akutagawa was doing in there.

…

Damn.

The only logical plan was to pretend he remembered nothing about last night.

Yes. Perfect.

His frantic thoughts were cut off by a message lighting up his phone.

Kyōka: Meet me at “Happy Ocean” at 6 :)

Crap. He’d completely forgotten he’d promised to meet Kyōka. What now?

A knock sounded at the door.

“Atsushi.”

Ryuunosuke.

“Uh… yeah?” Atsushi answered, unsure.

“Are you… okay?”

“Y-yeah! I’m fine!” he replied too quickly, then forced a calmer tone before stepping out.

Akutagawa’s eyes swept over him, searching for any hint of what had happened last night.

Atsushi, keeping his face blank, offered nothing. Ryuunosuke seemed to decide to do the same.

“Go wash up,” he said shortly, turning toward the kitchen.

When he was gone, Atsushi finally let himself exhale.

Everything was fine.

Nothing had happened.

No kiss.

No… anything.

Nothing. At all.

When Atsushi finally walked into the kitchen, Ryuunosuke was already sitting at the table, eating scrambled eggs and sipping tea. A faint smell of cigarettes lingered in the air, but Atsushi chose not to ask.

He slid quietly into his seat and started on his own plate.

He really did like staying here with Akutagawa.

Still… maybe he should think about moving back. Most of his things weren’t even here. Ryuunosuke had lent him a toothbrush, clothes, towels — even given him Gin’s room.

Another message buzzed on his phone.

Akutagawa glanced at him, brows slightly raised.

“It’s Kyōka,” Atsushi said simply, already sinking back into the chat.

He didn’t even notice the way Ryuu’s gaze darkened.

Kyōka: Atsushi?

Kyōka: You’re coming, right?

Damn. He still hadn’t replied.

“Ryuunosuke, do you know what this ‘Happy Ocean’ place is?” he asked, watching Akutagawa drum his fingers nervously against the table.

“Yeah. An amusement park. Why?” Ryuu’s voice was clipped, cool.

“I… well… Kyōka invited me, but I’m not sure…”

Akutagawa’s eyes stayed fixed on him, sharp as knives.

“Maybe you could… come with me?” Atsushi blurted before he could stop himself.

“What a stupid idea,” he thought the instant the words left his mouth.

His gaze dropped to Ryuunosuke’s lips — a faint cut lingered there, a reminder of last night. The memory of that kiss made his heart pound. He looked away quickly, wiping his mouth as if he could erase the feeling.

“Are you serious right now?” Akutagawa’s brow twitched.

“Yeah.” Nothing ventured, nothing gained, Atsushi told himself.

“You, me, and Kyōka? Seriously?”

“Ah—about that. Hold on!”

He fumbled with his phone and typed fast:

Me: Kyōka, could you bring someone along? I’ll be coming with Ryuunosuke.

“There! Problem solved,” he said, setting the phone back on the table with a triumphant little grin.

Akutagawa merely raised an eyebrow.

“She’ll bring someone, don’t worry,” Atsushi added quickly.

“I see.” Ryuunosuke took a long sip of his tea. “Fine. What time?”

“Six.”

Ryuu didn’t answer, but Atsushi couldn’t help smiling like an idiot anyway.

Could life let him savor moments like this just a little longer?

Could he forget, even for a while, about everyone else, about duty, about being a hero?

Could he have something of his own?

“Since the disappearance of our city’s hero, Spider-Man, crime has sharply increased. This week alone, over fifteen terrorist incidents and more than thirty robberies were reported, according to law enforcement.

The FSB has been called in, and new regulations will soon be introduced to stem the wave of violence. But is Spider-Man himself connected to the recent attacks? Around five bombs detonated across the city, leaving over three thousand injured and twenty-four confirmed dead.

Has the hero turned against innocent citizens? What could have pushed him to such extremes? Could the end be near? Stay tuned for more on tonight’s news.”

As the appointed hour drew near, Ryuunosuke once again brought Atsushi a neatly folded set of clothes.

Maybe it really was time for Nakajima to stop freeloading and go home for a change — he hated inconveniencing Ryuu.

“We’re leaving,” Akutagawa said curtly, already dressed and striding toward the door.

“What? You won’t even give me a minute?” Atsushi groaned, half whining.

Ryuunosuke stopped, shoulders stiff.

“Two minutes.”

He leaned against the entryway, scrolling absently through his phone while he waited.
Naturally, two minutes weren’t enough for Atsushi, it took him a good five to pull himself together, yet Akutagawa still stood there, patient in his own stony way.

They slipped outside and flagged down a cab bound for the amusement park.

For once, Atsushi wasn’t dressed head-to-toe in black. Ryuunosuke had loaned him a clean white T-shirt and pale jeans, layered under one of his own jackets. Beside him, Akutagawa looked as usual, sharp and understated in a dark winter coat.

A pale sky stretched overhead, the sun glinting off frost-dusted sidewalks. The air carried the crisp bite of early winter, a reminder that New Year’s was just around the corner… not that either of them had thought much about the holiday. It felt strange, the city humming with quiet celebration, twinkling garlands in shop windows, while their own lives were too tangled for such simple things.

At the park gates, only a modest crowd lingered. They spotted Kyōka and Lucy right away.
Kyōka had clearly made an effort — her dark hair curled softly around flushed cheeks, a hint of makeup brightening her face. Lucy looked more subdued, a little tired but still smiling.

“Finally,” Lucy said the moment they reached her.

“But we’re not even late…” Atsushi began, awkward.

Ryuunosuke said nothing. If anything, his expression darkened again, unreadable.

“Making girls wait isn’t exactly polite, you know,” Lucy chided.

“Right, right! Won’t happen again,” Atsushi promised with an uneasy laugh.

“Hi, Atsushi,” Kyōka murmured, her ears pink from the cold.

“Hi, Kyōka.” He smiled back.

“What happened to your face?” she asked gently.

He tried to hide the faint scratches from his scuffle with Ryuunosuke, but he couldn’t quite cover them all.

“Fell off the bed,” he lied, laughing nervously.

A faint click of Ryuu’s tongue made Atsushi glance at him — what was that about?

Then, unbidden, the memory of last night’s kiss flashed across his mind. Heat rose in his cheeks. In a panic, he gave himself a sharp slap, earning startled looks from all three.

“Atsushi?” Kyōka’s voice held concern.

“I’m fine,” he said quickly, his cheek now flushed for more reasons than one. He had to stop thinking about it.

How did Ryuunosuke manage to stand there so calm, as if nothing had happened? The man had an infuriating talent for keeping a straight face.