"You seen Akutagawa around?"

Higuchi's eyes darkened as she regarded you above the circular rim of her shades. "He's resting upstairs," she told you, straightening out her blazer, before adding in an undertone, "don't disturb him."

"Thanks," you said quickly, inclining your head as your skirted past.

"Don't disturb him," she called after you as you flashed her the thumbs up and disappeared round the corner. A second later you were jogging up the stairs to the upper storage rooms, throwing glances over your shoulder to make sure his subordinate wasn't following you.

It didn't take you too long to find him. All of the doors were shut or locked, except one. It was tilted slightly ajar, wobbling to and fro under the influence of an unseen breeze. You nudged it open with the toe of your shoe and slipped inside.

The room was dimly lit and hazy when you walked in, blinking a few times to allow your eyes to adjust. 

There wasn't much in there. It served as a living space for any members who couldn't afford their own accommodation, so the furnishings were second-hand and largely austere; a single bed and a chest of drawers; a naked lightbulb swinging from the ceilings; metal shutters across the window.

No wonder it was so stuffy in there. 

Akutagawa was sprawled across the bed at an angle, knees curled up to his stomach. His chest rose and fell slowly in irregular intervals. The rest of him lay still. 

Biting the inside of your cheek, you closed the door behind you and padded across the carpet. The mattress dipped as you climbed onto it, crawling over the threadbare blanket and cursing as it kept bunching up around your knees. 

Akutagawa barely stirred. Not a flutter of an eyelid, a hitch of breath.

Nothing.

Was he asleep?

Smoothing the covers back beneath your head, you propped yourself against the pillow and stared across at him. 

His face was so pale - almost deathly - framed by a curtain of midnight hair, the tips seeping into white. His skin was smooth, barely blemished, saved for the shadows that hung like leeches below his eyes and nose, sucking the colour from his skin.

"How long were you planning on watching me?" His lips moved slowly, not quite coinciding with the pace of his tone. He sounded sad. Not empty, or monotone, but sad. Melancholic.

Emotional. 

"You're so broken inside, Ryu," you murmured.

He still didn't open his eyes, but you could see them moving beneath his eyelids.

Couldn't he look at you?

"Why don't you let somebody in?"

Your breaths dimmed the air between you, warming your cheek as it rebounded from the pillow.

His jaw clenched the slightest fraction, jutting out, and the crease between his "brows" narrowed. Dropping your eyes further, you saw his hands clench against the blanket, scrunching it between his fingers.

"You mean like you?" He paused, hindering breaths between his lips. "Why do you think, [Y/N]? Who's the one who abandoned us? Betrayed us? Left me in the dirt."

There. There it was.

Me.

He was referring to himself. What you did to him. How you hurt him.

Because you had. You'd hurt him when you decided to leave. You'd left him a little bit more broken than he already was. 

Yet you'd convinced yourself you meant nothing to him.

Was that really true?

He peeled open his eyes, fixing you with a watery stare. They were like black pebbles. Chipped and eroded by the shores of his sadness.

"Who's the one... who left me alone?"

~

"Ryunosuke! Congratulations on your latest mission," you informed him, giving him a rare smile.

The man turned to face you slowly, and you picked out the strokes of red painting the side of his face. "Thank you. I heard you did well too," he added, flinching back suddenly as you reached up and brushed your fingers along his cheek.

"Calm down. You have some blood on your face," you muttered, sighing loudly as he pulled away from you. "Where are you headed now?" You asked quickly, catching him off guard.

You hated it when he just walked away.

"I'm tired," was all he said, before reaching up to cover his mouth. The cough that followed shook his entire body, depleting the strength from his veins.

It left his skin pallid, covered with a light sheen. He staggered back shortly after, his knees giving way, and you instinctively reached out, your fingers catching onto his arm and pulling him close.

There was moment of silence - of absolute stillness. You stared straight ahead, focusing on the collar of his shirt, how dark it looked in contrast to his skin.

You felt his gaze on you.

You were cold. But not too cold. The added heat of Akutagawa's body eased a warmth into your bones quite unlike that emitted from a heater.

It was quiet too. But not too quiet. The rumble of breaths and thrumming of heartbeats saw to that.

And it was times like these you truly felt no longer alone.

~

"I'm sorry, Ryunosuke. I really am."

He pressed his lips into a firm line, dousing you in the flames licking his gaze. "Then tell me why you left. Don't I deserve to know?"

To your surprise, you felt something wet roll down your cheek, tracing a salty path over the bridge of your nose. "I left because I- because I cared too much."

"About what?"

About you.

You ignored his question, leaving the answer smouldering at the back of your throat.

"When I was at the agency," you started with a shaky breath, reaching up to brush away the tears webbing your lashes, "Dazai asked me a question."

Akutagawa watched you closely, his eyes searing into yours as he waited on your voice.

"If they were to take me hostage and offer a trade, would you- would you accept it?"

There was silence after that.

A thick, unsettling silence. 

A silence that strung between you like a spider's web, catching you in its threads and pinning you there so that all you could do was stare at one another, desperate and hopeless.

And then you felt it. That longing. That regret. That yearning for something that was right in front of you, but just out of reach.

Because the answer was already decided. It had already been writting in the fates of his forgotten galaxy.

And it hurt. 

It killed you inside.

But you had cared too much.

And this was the price.