Work Text:
When someone finds out, Atsushi is embarrassed.
Embarrassment, shame and mortification are far from unfamiliar to Atsushi. These feelings have been a constant companion throughout his life, and it’s not something he’d ever realistically seen changing. Sure, he’s fantasised about it– growing so confident, so self-assured as to never have any need for these emotions. Atsushi may be naive on some fronts, but he isn’t stupid . A life without shame is impossible for him. Maybe it’s impossible for anyone . After all, even Dazai, who is so confident and intelligent, always ten steps ahead of those around him, has his moments. Well, maybe not the shame part. Though that's something he probably needs a bit of…
But… this is different.
In all honesty, Atsushi hadn’t noticed the smell. Maybe Kyouka had, but she’d never said anything about it. It’s only when Kunikida steps into their dorm to scold them for something when it’s brought to his attention.
“What in the world is that smell?! Have you not been taking out your trash?!” Kunikida asks loudly, peering around their apartment, seemingly in search of whatever he’s smelling. Atsushi’s face lights up, blood rushing to his cheeks as he waves his hands about, denials bursting forth from between his lips.
“N-no, Kunikida-san! We’ve been taking out the trash! I don’t know what you mean!”
His senior, however, remains unconvinced. Kunikida advances through their apartment, steps purposeful as he searches for the stench. Atsushi follows behind him anxiously, tentatively searching with him. Kyouka, who is sitting at their little table looks up at them as they pass, blinking slowly.
“Goodmorning, Kunikida-san.” She offers quietly, before continuing to delicately eat her breakfast. Really, Atsushi doesn’t understand how the girl manages to go about everything she does with such grace!
Kunikida sidesteps her greeting, simply returning a stern, “what is that smell? If it gets any worse, the neighbouring rooms will start to stink as well!”
Kyouka swallows her rice and taps the ends of her chopsticks against her chin thoughtfully.
“I’m not sure. Sorry.”
Evidently, that isn’t the response the man had been hoping for. Kunikida sighs exasperatedly.
When they enter the bedroom, Atsushi begins to realise what the man may be referring to. Unfortunately, he isn’t fast enough to intervene. No– Kunikida marches over to Atsushi’s closet in a huff, slides the door open and starts to rummage through the items stored on the top shelf. It’s clothes, mostly– clean , ironed clothes– and little souvenirs he’s managed to gather since joining the Agency. A couple of knick-knacks, gifts and books he’d bought for himself at the little bookstore a block down. But at the back in the right corner is a small box. And the box is where this apparent smell is coming from.
Kunikida blinks, reaches in and withdraws the box, and scrunches his face up when he sees what’s within.
“Atsushi!”
Food . It’s stupid. So, so stupid! It started small– packaged snacks he’d hidden back there, just in case he needed them. Atsushi isn’t used to having access to food all the time, and isn't used to having a kitchen and a fridge within his reach. Sometimes, when he was younger, he’d hide food under his pillow or in his bed's box spring. The staff were liable to withhold food from him whenever they desired, and those small stashes were… safety nets, in a way. Even if the food spoiled, or got squished and yucky. Food is food, and when you’re starving, anything is edible.
But it isn’t like that anymore. Atsushi has regular access to food now, he knows that no one will prevent him from eating! A meal is ten steps away in his dorm at all times, and he has a disposable income. He can go out for lunch, dinner, breakfast– hell, he could go out for a midnight snack if he so desired!
Yet, somehow that easy access to food had made this habit so much worse.
Now Atsushi wasn’t storing small amounts of food which were gone within a few days. He had enough food in there to fill a box. Fruits, vegetables, packaged candies and non-perishables alike. But he never felt the need to eat it. So, the food sits there. Grows mouldy and gross as time passes, because he doesn’t need it.
But… he can’t bring himself to discard it either!
What-ifs nip at his mind, guiding his hands as he adds to the bin. What if he suddenly needs this food one day? He’s gotten to that point before, where mouldy, rotten food is all that he can find, and those meals could damn well mean the difference between life and death! Atsushi doesn’t want to die– he’s no Dazai– but if he were to rank his most dreaded possible methods, starvation would be at the top. The thoughts are constant, and Atsushi is pathetically weak to their words. He doesn’t even try to fight this habit.
Being weak is one thing he’s good at, he supposes. He’s always had a talent for giving up.
“I-I…” Atsushi stutters, gripping his own biceps and diverting his gaze. Away from Kunikida’s judgemental glare, to the floor, the walls, that stupid fucking box. Anywhere that isn’t his eyes.
While Atsushi is biting back mortified tears, Kunikida sighs, pushing up his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose. He doesn't seem… angry , exactly. Maybe a bit annoyed, or exasperated. But not angry yet.
Kunikida tucks the box between his waist and arm before adjusting his glasses once more, light glinting off the lenses.
“Alright!” Atsushi startles at the sound of his seniors voice, anxiously analysing his calm, yet strangely determined expression. He has no clue what in the world that’s supposed to mean. “Kyouka! Get in here!”
Atsushi scrambles, waving his hands frantically in the air, rushing to make Kyouka’s innocence known. “No, Kunikida-san, you’ve got it all wrong! Kyouka-chan had nothing to do with this! I-It… it was all me!”
The girl herself slinks into the room, a vaguely intrigued look on her face. Kunikida completely ignores what Atsushi is saying in favour of sticking one finger up into the air.
“We’re going to set up some rules! It will be up to both of you to enforce them, of course. Understood?”
Meekly, Atsushi nods. Kyouka doesn’t seem so cowed, however, agreeing with absolute confidence.
“If you want to keep food in your rooms, make sure it isn’t perishable! Dried fruits and vegetables– in sealed bags or containers– packaged sweets, canned goods; that is appropriate! As long as everything is sealed afterwards again and there isn’t any chance of mould forming or bugs getting in, then there isn’t a problem.”
Atsushi blinks. Once, then twice, and he doesn’t know what to say. This definitely isn’t the scolding he’d been expecting, if he’s honest. Kunikida barrels forward without pause.
“Stay tidy, and check the state of the food at least once a week to see if there’s any problem. You could get sick if you don’t pay attention to its quality! Throw out any wrappers or containers once you’re done with them– and the containers which can be recycled must be! I don’t have the time to do this for you– I already have my hands full dealing with that waste of bandages, so you have to do it yourselves.”
“O-oh…” Atsushi murmurs to himself.
Kyouka raises her hand, and Kunikida nods to her. “If you can keep fruit in a bowl on a table, why can’t you keep it in a closet?”
Kunikida makes an expression like a bird had just flown into his face.
“You, just… don’t do it. Keep all fruit in the kitchen, preferably in a fridge!”
Kyouka agrees, though the pinch between her brows suggests she isn’t exactly satisfied with that answer. Atsushi scratches the back of his neck, confusion nipping at his mind as he regards Kunikida with bewilderment.
He isn’t mad. Kunikida, who is notoriously temperamental, isn’t mad at Atsushi for letting a bunch of food spoil in his room, potentially stinking up the whole dorm block! He’s relieved, certainly, but he’s also entirely thrown off guard. Atsushi should be in trouble! I mean, this is objectively super gross, and totally inconsiderate! Kunikida would be completely within his rights to let loose on him over it, but he just… isn’t .
Atsushi doesn’t cry, but it’s a damn near thing.
Thickly, he responds to the elder, head dipped in embarrassment, “O-okay…”
Kunikida huffs out a breath. “Good, I’m glad we’ve come to an understanding. Now, I’m going to throw this… biohazard away,” Atsushi flusters at that, “and drag Dazai out of his futon. Open some windows and find some room fresheners. If you don’t have that, light some candles or set out a bowl of vinegar.”
“Yes Kunikida-san.” Kyouka says before darting away. The sound of a window opening in the kitchen explains it.
Part of Atsushi wonders if this behaviour should be encouraged. Wouldn’t it be better if he tried to break this habit, no matter how uncomfortable it may be? Couldn’t this be a bad thing? Atsushi should be able to get over this, he shouldn’t have to stockpile a bunch of food in his room! Do most people keep food in their rooms? Sure, maybe a little bit is fine, some candies in a bowl on your desk perhaps, but anything more than that may be a bit absurd!
Is he overthinking this? He isn’t sure.
“Hey, get to it!” Kunikida snaps, starting towards the bedroom door. “What, do you want to help me clean out Dazai’s apartment? God knows that idiot won’t be of any help. Hurry the hell up!”
Atsushi scrambles, wincing as he sputters out apologies. Kunikida scoffs and strides through the doorway, muttering to himself agitatedly as he does.
There’s a distinctly warm feeling in Atsushi’s chest as he slides open the bedroom window, the cool morning breeze making the curtains flutter. Kyouka walks into the room holding a teacup full of vinegar. Atsushi smiles at the girl as she carefully places it inside the closet where the box had been.
With the window open, Atsushi can hear Kunikida yelling at Dazai loud and clear.
He sighs, though the sound is fond.