Chapter Text
Atsushi was crying, once again trying to hide his sobs from the headmaster lest he be further punished. Atsushi knew he wasn't allowed to cry, but he was just nine, and he couldn't control his tears yet.
The young boy was currently sitting outside in the grass, having been kicked out for the night, but still chained to a special pole the orphanage people had set up for him. It was autumn and cold winds had already set in, which did not help with his current condition, the cold air biting at his blistered and still healing skin.
Atsushi had his head between his legs, trying to stay as warm as possible, when a tree branch broke near him in the bushes, and his head shot up. This wasn't the first time a branch had broken today; however, something about this time just felt… off.
Trying to see better in the darkness, not aided by the current half moon, he wiped away his tears and stared forward, right at the spot the branch had cracked.
Something stared back at Atsushi.
Atsushi yelped, scrambling backwards as far as the chains would let him, and even further, at the cost of his neck being squeezed. He winced, making sure to be quiet and show as little weakness as possible, then stared at the eyes again.
Well, not really only eyes anymore.
Out of the darkness stepped a malnourished child with tattered clothes. At first, Atsushi thought the child was another orphan who somehow had snuck out and decided to further injure him for ‘bonus points’, but the suspicion was discarded quickly. Atsushi would have remembered a child with special hair like that; black with white tips.
Atsushi blinked at the child, no longer as spooked by the child that kind of looked like a ghost. “Um-”
“Why are you chained up?” The other interrupted rudely, coming a little closer. Atsushi scooted forwards a little so that his collar wouldn't pinch as much, and thought about what he had done wrong.
“Well,-” He looked back at the orphanage for a second, really not remembering what exactly he had done wrong. “-I guess I did something the headmaster didn't like? He doesn't like me much in general, but, um - maybe one of the other kids blamed me again.”
His throat was raw from screaming at the earlier punishments, and he winced yet again. “Ah, my name is Atsushi, by the way! Everyone calls me 78 but, um, I don't like that very much.”
The ghostly child approaches yet again, crouching down to Atsushi's level. The child's pale skin contrasted a lot with their surroundings, Atsushi noticed.
“Akutagawa Ryunosuke. Are you injured?” Akutagawa's voice sounded slightly male. Atsushi will go with that, then. He thought the question over and grimaced at the reminder of pain. He pulled at his dirty hair in nervousness. After a little thought, he nodded. The look in the other's eyes soured slightly. “Where?” Atsushi pointed at his ribs, wondering why Akutagawa was asking.
He wasn't going to offer to help him with the wounds, right? There was no way he could pay the other back, and it was visible. Yes, it was much more likely that the other was going to further injure him, now that he knew how much of an easy target he was. He discreetly shimmied backwards, only now noticing the dark look in Akutagawa's eyes, and gulped.
—
Akutagawa offered to help with his wounds.
In his shock at the offer, he just numbly nodded, and now Akutagawa was apparently treating some of the wounds on his back. He did have to take off his shirt for that, which, considering the chains, would have been much more difficult if Atsushi's clothes hadn't been at least three sizes too big for him.
He winced at some of the touches. Akutagawa was treating the burns on his back with some kind of cold liquid. It did help a lot with the stinging, so close yet unlike the harsh autumn winds, and he soon felt fatigue set in.
He rapidly shook his head at the offer of bandages, though. If Headmaster discovered his now treated wounds, he was going to do much worse than just some small burns, he told the darker haired male.
At the murderous look in the other’s eyes, Atsushi panicked in fear of seeming ungrateful and quickly both apologized and thanked Akataguwa for the troubles, which he dismissed with a simple hand wave.
It was nearing morning, so Akutagawa quickly left with a wave and a muttered ‘I'll be back, don't get injured anymore or I will break your legs’.
Well.
Not ominous at all.
…
Listen, it wasn't Atsushis fault the Headmaster didn't like him, okay? He didn't even do much, this time! He just watched a moth fly around a little and got distracted from his chores, which then resulted in another punishment.
Means he was chained outside. Again. Right after Akutagawa told him not to get injured.
He really couldn't catch a break, could he?
Well, at least Akataguwa came back and treated his injuries again. The younger boy thought it was just a joke. He even managed to do some conversation with the older boy!
“You're not from the orphanage, are you?”
“No.”
“Um, where are you from then?”
“The slums.”
“What's that?”
“A place for poor people.”
“Oh! So, for people that didn't get enough points from doing their chores?” Atsushi triumphantly said, proud to finally know something. Akutagawa just blinked at him.
“Do you know what money is?”
…In the end, Akutagawa had to explain the concept of money to Atsushi. He hears Akutagawa curse something about ‘stupid orphanages’ and ‘buffoons for teachers’, but he chose to ignore that.
They soon parted ways again, Atsushi with a little more knowledge and Akutagawa with an upcoming headache.
His legs weren't broken by the older, which Atsushi counted as a win for the day.
Little mercies.
–
They continued meeting like that.
One, sometimes both, injured, and they treat each other's wounds, then simply talk and bask in the other's presence. Sometimes, they share food, either from sneaking some from the orphanage kitchen or bringing tiny leftovers.
One time, Akutagawa brought a tiny bit of money, and taught him how to count it and how it can be used. More knowledge!
Akutagawa introduces Rashomon, and they become fond of each other, the silent forest the only witness to their friendship.
…
Too bad things can't last forever.