#odaku

A full night’s sleep is a concept foreign to Akutagawa.

The longer Akutagawa spends asleep, the longer he’s vulnerable.  Even if he only sleeps in his apartment with the door locked, that’s no guarantee of safety.  He hasn’t slept in the same room as anyone else since leaving the orphanage, and he only allows himself a few hours of rest at a time.  If it were possible, he wouldn’t sleep at all.

He’s learned to function on three hours of sleep.  It isn’t a detriment to his efficiency.  It certainly won’t cause him to pass out during a mission, or anything as ridiculous as that.

So when Akutagawa opens his eyes and realizes that his head is on something warmer than his pillow, alarm filters through disorientation near instantly.  He sits bolt upright, taking in his surroundings.  If an enemy knocked him out-

“Good morning.”  Oda, sitting on a park bench, shows no signs of concern.  “Did you sleep well?”

Before Akutagawa can begin to answer that, he needs a second to process the situation.  He was sleeping next to Oda?  No, given the position he was in, he had to have had his head in Oda’s lap.

“What happened?”  Of course something had to have happened for him to end up like this.  There’s no way he would have slept on Oda just as a matter of course.  Maybe an Ability user’s attack-

“After we finished training, you fell asleep on me.  I didn’t want to wake you, so I stayed here.”

They were training in the afternoon, but the sun has already set.  Oda can’t possibly have sat still while Akutagawa napped on him for hours… no, because it’s Oda, Akutagawa can absolutely believe he stayed in the same spot just to avoid waking him.  No one else would have even tried.

If it were anyone other than Oda, Akutagawa wouldn’t have believed he could let his guard down enough to fall asleep on them.  Though…  “You should have attacked.  The enemy wouldn’t pass up an opportunity to strike while I was vulnerable.”

“I know,” Oda replies.  “But you seemed like you needed the rest.”

Akutagawa almost scoffs and says that he functions perfectly well on his standard schedule, before he realizes that he feels more refreshed than he’s been in months.  With this much energy, he could fight the Guild single-handedly, or survive entertaining Oda’s children for two days straight.

He hates to concede a point, but his lack of sleep might possibly have been affecting him a tiny bit more than he realized.

“Besides.”  Oda smiles softly.  “You’re cute while you’re asleep, so I don’t think I could have attacked you even if I wanted to.”

The fact that Akutagawa’s cheeks flame red is solely because of improved blood flow after his nap.  That’s a plausible reason.  Embarrassment over Oda calling him ‘cute’ has nothing to do with it.

Akutagawa turns away, as if Oda hadn’t already gotten a good look at his blush.  “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“I’m not.”  Oda tilts his head a little.  “Maybe I should have taken a picture so I could show you later…”

“I will never let my guard down around you again.”  Akutagawa huffs.  “This should never have happened to begin with and we will not discuss it.”

Two weeks later, Akutagawa wakes up with his head on Oda’s lap and Oda’s hand in his hair.  He splutters and pulls away as quickly as humanly possible.

‘This is the only world where he lives and writes a novel.’

Akutagawa keeps a copy of Oda’s novel in his room.  Now and then he takes it out just to thumb through: the novel this world was made for.  You’d never guess just by the cover.

…No, that’s not right.  The smile Oda has when someone praises his book or talks about what it meant to them is the smile this world was made for.  Akutagawa can hardly disagree with Dazai’s choices, at least when it comes to doing whatever he could to protect that smile.  (The rest of his decisions, especially when they involve Gin, are still up for scrutiny.)

They don’t talk about Dazai.  Akutagawa isn’t sure he could discuss him without bringing up the Book or lying, and he can’t lie to Oda.  Without Oda…

Perhaps the Akutagawa of the outside world is happier, more fulfilled in the mafia without the struggle of going against his nature and trying to be human.  But this Akutagawa can say with certainty that Oda is the best thing that could have ever happened to him.

Not that he would say that out loud.  Atsushi would never let him live it down.  If he’d known getting along with Atsushi more would mean Atsushi ribbing him about his ‘crush’, he might have killed him back then rather than suffer the embarrassment.

He doesn’t have a crush.  Anyone would be grateful to the person who saved their life, and he’s used to Oda’s company more than most people’s so of course he seeks it out over everyone else’s.  There’s nothing romantic or sexual in saying that Oda is handsome; it just means Akutagawa has eyes.

“Saying that just makes you more obvious.”  Atsushi wears a too-sweet smile that immediately has Akutagawa’s guard up.  “You really should tell him one of these days.”

“There’s nothing to tell.”  Akutagawa glares at his desk rather than look directly at Atsushi.  “Even if there was, it would be pointless, because he doesn’t share those hypothetical feelings.”

“He spends more time with you than anyone else in the agency.”

“Our relationship is different from our coworkers.  That doesn’t mean it’s romantic in nature.”

“He learned how to make fig cake after overhearing you mention liking figs once.”

It was delicious, even more so because Akutagawa hadn’t been expecting the gift.  “He’s a generous person who enjoys doing things for others.  If he had romantic feelings, he would have made it clear by now, considering how ‘obvious’ my supposed feelings are.”

Atsushi raises an eyebrow.  “Um, I don’t mean any offense to him, but… we’re talking about the same Oda, right?”

…Less than two days ago it was revealed that Oda wasn’t sure if Kenji considered him a friend, despite Oda having known him for the better part of a year and Kenji considering the majority of the city his friends.  There’s no way Akutagawa can argue that Oda isn’t dense.

He slumps his head against his pile of paperwork.  Atsushi gently pats him on the shoulder.

It’s not surprising that Oda’s answer when Akutagawa texts to ask where he is is ‘the docks’.  Oda has two favorite haunts: the library and anywhere he can see the sea.

When Akutagawa finds him, he’s sitting at the end of a pier, legs dangling off the side.  He looks up as Akutagawa takes a seat next to him.

“Need something?” Oda asks.

“…No.  I just felt like seeing you.”  It’s not as hard to admit as it used to be.

Oda accepts that with a soft smile, then turns his gaze back to the ocean.  Water stretches out past the horizon, and Akutagawa imagines it going on until confined by the pages of the Book.

If this world broke down, would it all end in an instant?  Or would he watch the sky crack open and the ocean tear apart?

“Oda.  If the world were ending, what would you do in the time you had left?”

After a moment’s thought, Oda replies, “It depends on how much time I had.”

“Suppose you have an hour.”  That’s generous for a world ending, but it’s not as though he asks the question expecting it to happen.  He’ll do everything in his power to keep the Book and this world safe.

“An hour…  I’d want to say goodbye to the children.”

Akutagawa nods.  “I thought you’d want to spend your last moments with them.”  It’s not a disappointing answer, because he would have had to have been expecting something else to be let down.

Oda shakes his head.  “I’d say goodbye, but I’d spend the end of the world with you.”

That makes Akutagawa’s eyes widen and cheeks flush pink.  “…You would?”

“You’ve been alone for long enough,” Oda says.  “I can’t think of anything I’d rather be doing than holding your hand.”

On impulse, Akutagawa grabs one of Oda’s hands resting on the pier.  After a moment, Oda turns his hand around to hold Akutagawa’s properly.

“What would you do?” Oda asks.  “With an hour left.”

Akutagawa swallows.  He knows what he wants to say, but he doesn’t know how to say it.  “…The hand-holding is a good idea.  I don’t have any complaints.”

Oda squeezes his hand a little.  “That’s good to know.”  And he looks back over the ocean again.

Of course Oda won’t push for more than that.  He never pushes, always letting Akutagawa grow at his own pace.  He just provides the direction.  Akutagawa has always been battling himself and overcoming his weaknesses, and this isn’t any different.

“…There is one other matter.”  Akutagawa’s voice sounds raspier than normal, or maybe he’s only imagining it in his nervousness.  “If the world was going to end, I would want to clear something up with someone first.”

“Is it someone I know?” Oda asks, turning back.

“It’s someone you know well… perhaps not as well as you should.”  No matter how many virtues Akutagawa and the rest of the agency recognize in Oda, he’ll never acknowledge them in himself.  That’s just the kind of person Oda is, and it’s that kind of person that Akutagawa…

Akutagawa leans in to peck Oda lightly on the cheek, then pulls back, his face burning.  “That’s what I wanted to clear up - of course it doesn’t need to change anything between us, and you can forget I ever did such a thing, in fact I would prefer if you did-”

“Akutagawa.”  Oda’s free hand resting on Akutagawa’s cheek quiets his nervous rambling.  He doesn’t say anything else, only leans in to gently kiss Akutagawa’s lips, soft and slow and everything Akutagawa imagined it might be.  Akutagawa freezes for a second before melting into the kiss.

The world isn’t ending, not yet.  Sharing his feelings with Oda without the time limit hanging above them was a much better plan than waiting until the last second to confess.