The quiet hum of the car filled the space between them, the city lights flickering through the tinted windows as the vehicle smoothly made its way through Yokohama’s streets. Dazai sat rigidly in his seat, his usual air of carelessness betrayed by the tension in his posture. Akutagawa, however, had long since given in to exhaustion, his head resting against Dazai’s shoulder, his breath slow and steady.

Dazai wasn’t sure how they’d ended up like this. A long mission, perhaps—one that left Akutagawa drained enough to lower his guard so completely. He should have shoved him off, made some snarky remark about the weak letting themselves be vulnerable. But instead, his fingers curled lightly around Akutagawa’s wrist, not gripping—just holding. The fragile rise and fall of Akutagawa’s pulse beneath his touch was steady, grounding.

He exhaled slowly, gaze shifting to the window, but his thoughts refused to settle. Why aren’t I moving him? Why am I just sitting here? His free hand clenched into a fist in his lap. He wasn’t used to this—this unfamiliar weight in his chest, this hesitation. It’s just Akutagawa, he told himself. It’s nothing. But then his eyes flickered downward, taking in the way Akutagawa’s hair fell messily over his face, the peaceful expression he rarely showed in waking hours.

Dazai swallowed hard. Why does he look so… cute— His thoughts screeched to a halt. No. No, no, no. I can’t think that way!! He tore his gaze away, staring fiercely out the window as if sheer willpower could erase the thought from existence.

*And yet, his fingers remained loosely wrapped around Akutagawa’s wrist, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. A quiet sigh escaped him. *"I’ll move him in a minute… Just a minute longer."