Run
03
Run, run, run again, it’s okay to fall
For the next few days following the gossiping incident, the staff are a lot more careful about what they say around Atsushi or even behind his back.
Because for the next few days following the gossiping incident, Atsushi trails behind Akutagawa like a fucking shadow everywhere he goes.
It gets to the point where everyone at the studio and estate misunderstands the relationship between Atsushi and Akutagawa as one of close friendship, despite the fact that Atsushi barely speaks to him and Akutagawa goes out of his way to pretend he isn't even there altogether. Occasionally —much to Akutagawa’s chagrin— Lucy will join them and they'll have breakfast, lunch, or even dinner during long rehearsals; she'll chat away nonstop and Akutagawa responds politely, ignoring the looks Atsushi sends his way.
Noticing their closeness, Oda remarks on their dynamic during his first day at the temporary studio - a location used for table reading, and the second filming site.
Fortunately Atsushi has some sense of personal boundaries and doesn't follow Akutagawa right into his waiting room, so when Oda arrived, he took the opportunity to grab his manager by the collar and drag him to the room, just to hide from his co-stars for as long as possible.
“Not you too.” Akutagawa groans. “Naomi’s been teasing me all week about this.”
“Speaking of which, where is Naomi?”
Right on cue, the voices of the Tanizaki siblings mindlessly arguing, as they always do, becomes clearer as they approach with Kyusaku likely tailing behind them.
“Nevermind.” Oda laughs. “There they are.”
The door flings open. Naomi barges in first, her fury enunciated by hair that's only halfway done with one side straightened and the other still tied up with a butterfly hair clip —no doubt a result of storming off in the middle of styling, Junichiro is behind her carrying a stack of booklets, and just as suspected, Kyusaku enters last.
“Shouldn't you be at school right now anyway?” Naomi shouts.
“You're the one who called me here!” Junichiro responds.
“Well now I want you gone.”
Kyusaku plops down onto the sofa next to Akutagawa and the latter asks, “What happened this time?”
"Jun told Naomi's professor that she doesn't have to give Naomi extra time for her assignments because he'll make sure she can still get them done on time.”
Okay maybe this one is a little serious.
“Now that's just horrible, Tanizaki.” Oda says pitiably. “Naomi is stuffed with work this coming week. How do you suppose she'll get all that done?”
“I said I’ll help!”
Naomi, seething with anger, retorts, "Maybe you could ‘help’ by admitting to the professor that you lack the ability to consider the consequences before speaking?" Akutagawa observes Oda and Junichiro quivering in fear, and he himself grows anxious. Stupid Junichiro.
"Jun," Akutagawa interjects, attempting to defuse the situation, "just go to school and tell the professor that you overestimated the workload."
“But-,” The elder Tanizaki sighs. “Fine. But I can't leave yet, Naomi's hairstyle and makeup needs to be finished and she hates the way the staff does it so we should go back to her trailer first.”
“No need, I brought everything with me.” Kyusaku, attentive as always, lifts up his backpack, which he'd filled with all the necessary products, the straightener and the pallete they’d been using before coming here.
“And once again, the thirteen year old saves the day.”
“By the way, Akutagawa.” Naomi turns to him once she's settled by the mini vanity. “Your boyfriend is outside waiting for you.”
Akutagawa emits a mixture of a groan and a pained sob. "Why is he doing this? I planned to avoid him until absolutely necessary, but my luck is so wretched that not only did I run into him on the first day, but now he follows me wherever I go!"
"He's like a lost kitten taking advantage of your intimidating demeanour and resting bitch face to ward off a pack of wolves," Junichiro giggles. "To be honest, I think he's cute."
Akutagawa scowls.
"If he wants to use me as a human shield, he ought to engage in some for conversation. It's so uncomfortable when Lucy isn't around."
“From what I’ve seen, it's you who won't talk. Nakajima-san doesn't shut up.” Kyusaku remarks, causing Akutagawa to retract his previous compliments for the boy.
"He doesn't speak," Akutagawa protests.
"He does; you just tune out everyone except for Dazai," both Kyusaku and Naomi say in perfect harmony. It's somewhat embarrassing.
“...shut up.”
Not wanting to endure their chatter any longer, Akutagawa instructs Junichiro to dismiss them and lock up the room when he's ready to leave for school. He can give the key to Oda before departing. Then, he leaves.
"Akutagawa-kun."
He's met with that subtle, forced curl of the lips; that gentle 'smile.'
“To be honest, I think he's cute.”
How is it that no one notices what he does? Although, in Junichiro’s defence, the guy does have odd tastes.
"Good Morning, Atsushi-kun."
They fall into silence and begin walking towards the conference room. Now that Naomi has pointed it out, Akutagawa becomes much more aware of the underlying tension between him and Atsushi, which seems almost suffocating.
He wants to say something, but what? “How was your day?" The day just started. “Are you excited for filming?” He's pretty sure Lucy has asked that before. “You look good today?” Crazy, he looks just like every other-
“Are you asking me or telling me?”
Huh?
“Huh?”
“You said I look good but ended it with a question mark.”
“I didn't say anything.” He didn't.
Atsushi looks at him, suppressing a grin. “...I must have heard wrong then.”
•••
The table reading proves to be uneventful, as it’s the final one before they commence filming at the estate. They exchange thoughts and feedback on potential improvements, alterations and omissions from the script; and once they've finished, proceed to engage in idle chatter to pass the time.
Akutagawa’s thoughts drift towards the approaching weekend, where Gin will showcase her artistry in a debut exhibit, marking her first independent display since graduating. He smiles slightly, proud of his little sister’s accomplishments. She's been waiting for this moment since her first time picking up a brush in middle school.
“Would that be possible, Akutagawa-kun?”
Ah, he wasn't listening again.
He feels a gentle tap on his shoulder, and turns to face the man next to him; Atsushi, of course. The younger’s gaze fixates on something below, prompting him to follow suit. He does so and sees a small slip of paper under Atsushi’s fingers.
Penny for your thoughts?
They want you to convince Dazai-san :)
What's with the scratched out text?
Well whatever.
“I can't make any promises but I will try.” He says courteously. “Though I do hope you'll respect whatever decision he makes.”
“Oh, yes of course.” Higuchi beams, happy with even the simple possibility of having Dazai on set.
“Then let's end the session here.” Mister Fitzgerald, the director, announces. “I hope to see you all in good health next week.”
Not a moment later, everyone disperses and exits the room as if they had been waiting hours for a dismissal. You can always count on Director Fitzgerald to hold meetings and shoots for longer than necessary.
Akutagawa half expects Atsushi to be on his tail when he leaves, but senses no presence beside him. He turns back, pretending to double check his place —ensuring he hadn't left anything behind, and secretly glances sideways. There he was, standing near the entrance with two others: a man with bright orange hair, whom Akutagawa knows as Nakahara Chuuya, and a dark haired girl who seems about the same age as Kunikida’s neighbour, Kenji.
Kyusaku is there too, clinging to Chuuya’s leg and rambling on to the girl who simply stood there with a blank face, yet listened intently.
Naomi or Oda will see to it that Kyusaku detaches himself from Chuuya later on, so Akutagawa figures there's no need for him to interfere. And with no obligation to be a reluctant bodyguard, he was pretty much free for the rest of the day.
Relief. He hadn't felt that since this whole thing started.
Gin’s exhibit is just as stunning as Akutagawa had anticipated, if not more so. Various paintings and photographs are lined up against the walls with nameplates placed next to or beneath them that identify the title and artist of each piece. Several sculptures are scattered across the floor area, all of which are positioned so that it is simple to view them in their entirety without obstructing other people's ability to walk or view the other works.
The paintings belong to Gin. Morbid, abstract depictions of different subjects has always been her thing. When they were younger, Akutagawa frequently told Gin that her artwork gave him nightmares, which only prompted her to get even more creative with age.
The sculptures are the work of Tachihara, Gin's childhood friend, and the photographs are by Tanizaki —Junichiro, of course. Akutagawa overlooked the fact that the exhibit is partially theirs as well.
He wants to greet the three and congratulate them but when he finds them, there is already a crowd of others who clearly had the same idea. He'd rather not garner any attention by shoving through or calling out to Gin, so he sets the task aside for later and opts to view the displays instead.
First, the sculptures. Tachihara has been passionate about sculpting for as long as Akutagawa has known him. His whole friendship with Gin had begun in elementary school when Tachihara adorably confessed his ‘love’ for his deskmate, Gin, with a (very badly) sculpted cat made with play dough, on Valentines day. Unfortunately, Gin did not accept his confession, but complemented his work and told him that when he manages to do a better job, she'll consider him. Gin’s declaration prompted Tachihara to continually practise until he’d perfected it, although somewhere along the way, the initial reasoning was long forgotten as he grew more fond of the art.
All are magnificently made, but what leaves a deep impression on Akutagawa is the one titled “Angel of Death.” The artwork, sculpted from different metals, is of a man sitting slumped, on the verge of death, only one of his arms intact while the other lies beside him. Parts of his body are surrounded by little steel butterflies —with the most being around the area of the missing arm, as if they were working to revive the severed limb, and around his neck.
Its tragic beauty touches something in Akutagawa’s heart.
He views the photographs next. Tanizaki isn't so much a photographer as he is a graphic designer. Not that it changes the fact that his photography skills are rather exceptional, and paired with his graphic desgin skills, they're certainly worthy of getting an exhibit of their own. Akutagawa looks at the one titled “Light Snow”, a picture of Naomi standing in Kunikida’s snowy backyard, looking up at the sky and reaching out one hand to feel the snowfall. It seems completely regular until you notice that in the top left corner, the image almost pixelates away into a pitch black darkness. Even upon closer look, little bits of glitches can be seen in parts of the snow and on Naomi.
He snickers, recalling the stress Tanizaki had gone through during the making process. They waited weeks for a snowy day to come as the news had predicted but it never did and Tanizaki was forced to hand in a different assignment from what he envisioned. When the day finally came, it was already too late, but Naomi and Dazai insisted he proceed anyway because the idea seemed too interesting to brush off. They gathered at Kunikida’s home, despite his protests of “Why do you all have to be here?” and enjoyed hot cocoa while the Tanizaki siblings, along with Dazai, stood in the snow for three hours —Dazai was at fault for making it an open invitation so Kunikida kicked him out.
Lastly, Gin’s painting. The canvas is covered from one end to the other by a black, almost dragon-like creature ringed with a rough, red aura. Its body encircles around the figure of a man, enveloping him from head to toe in its darkness. Half his face is veiled like a mask and the blackness shrouding him fits like a suit of armour. What fascinates Akutagawa is that in spite of having no facial features, the figure is content within the confines of the creature's trap.
“Rashomon.”
One day of peace. That is all he asked for.
“Atsushi-kun.”
Atsushi is beside him yet again, dressed in a white shirt and black slacks, casual but formal enough for an exhibit. His face is obscured by a black cap and mask just like Akutagawa to conceal his identity, it's a wonder they were able to recognise one another.
“Akutagawa Gin.” Atsushi reads aloud. “Is she your sister?”
Akutagawa only hums in response.
“Her work is magnificent.”
“Thank you.”
It's awkward. Akutagawa feels that urge to run away again but that would just disrupt everyone in the building. He opts to ask instead, “Do you have an interest in art, Atsushi-kun?”
Atsushi doesn't answer him, so Akutagawa turns to look at the man again. Atsushi is already facing him, his widened eyes are visible even through the shadow of his cap.
Is it that shocking that Akutagawa initiated conversation first?
Before he can retract his question, Atsushi hurries to answer. “Sorry, um, I wouldn't say I have a deep interest in it but I do enjoy viewing it now and again. I’m here for Tachihara.”
“Oh, you're familiar with him?”
“Mhm, he's a close friend of mine. I had no clue that the girl he always speaks about is your sister.”
What a small fucking world.
“I see.”
They walk further around the exhibit, every so often either one will voice an opinion or impression of the artwork in front of them, and as they move from piece to piece, Akutagawa and Atsushi engage in short idle conversation. If one would see them from an outside perspective, they’d believe the pair entered the venue together. It's more peaceful than Akutagawa had expected.
Until…
“Hey, hey. Isn't that Nakajima Atsushi?”
Not again.
“I noticed this earlier too, but the guy next to him-”
“Akutagawa Ryunosuke right?”
“Oh my gosh should we go talk to them!”
This is the last thing he wanted on a day like today.
“Akutagawa-kun, forgive me for this.”
“Wha-”
He barely gets his words out when suddenly his hand is grabbed by Atsushi who speed-walks swiftly toward the exit without garnering any suspicion from anyone in the room.
And once they're at the foot of the doorway, they run.