Osamu Dazai as a wealthy heir is undeniably cool, but I keep thinking about Atsushi Nakajima.
Waking up at nine in the morning without an alarm: it doesn't matter if he has classes at eight or if it’s a weekend on the calendar. Classic trousers, a white long-sleeved shirt, and a black vest in the spring, with a blazer thrown over in the winter. In terms of academic performance, he doesn't stand out in his group, mostly because he doesn't need to. He grabs lunch with two buddies at a cafe, ordering an unsweetened iced latte every single time. Polite, well-mannered, and educated, he is never the first to pick a fight. He often stands with his hands shoved into his trouser pockets, wearing an indifferent gaze, which makes everyone else assume he’s just as arrogant as any other rich kid.
No matter what they start—it’s always just two days of novelty, and then the adults have to clean up after them. When a younger Atsushi brought a cat home, he played with it for a week and then promptly forgot about it. But when he wanted to get his driver's license before turning 18, he agreed to a condition: to rank at least second in his class within a month. And he did it.
Few understood him: with talent like that, he could have easily earned an extra stipend and the unconditional approval of his professors. But Atsushi had to work hard for it, and pouring over homework is only for those whose parents push them, or those desperate to break out of a certain social circle. He was neither.
After graduating university and finally landing a job, Atsushi was preparing to inherit the company. And considering he only had his father, who hadn't been heavily involved in his upbringing, Atsushi began drawing more and more attention to himself. It started with something harmless, like bringing a girl over, but escalated into a drunken brawl outside a hookah lounge and a subsequent police detention. Car theft, fights, endless clubbing... The attention he drew was intense, but it was never enough for him.
At some point, he realized he was searching for something greater than just sitting in an office, shuffling papers, and shuffling between negotiations. And that was when he asked his father for a position as a detective's assistant.
Overdue deadlines, articles, reports... Standing on the threshold, Atsushi had no idea what he would be doing or what role they would assign him: a babysitter for jittery witnesses, a shoulder to cry on, or a real detective with over twenty years of experience under his belt. But he truly loved the fact that he had managed to escape his former monotonous lifestyle.
And until fate threw him against the organization's rival, Ryunosuke Akutagawa, Atsushi was indeed living comfortably again. He could afford to take a girl out on a date, eat Japanese delicacies, and drink with friends on any given evening. With the appearance of the mafioso, those privileges vanished on their own. Nakajima would snap, set him up, and pull his hair when he wanted to hit a nerve; he was incredibly infuriating. He simply knew Akutagawa was an absolute jerk, but there was no way to prove it because people like him were untouchable. Ryunosuke thought the exact same thing about him.
The superficial, beautiful facade vanished the moment they were split up for different missions. One required Akutagawa to use raw force, while the other forced Atsushi to utilize the high-society connections he had grown up with. Thus, the task was resolved twice as fast, with no time wasted on either side.
Seeing how Atsushi could solve problems through sheer diplomacy, Ryunosuke was profoundly shocked. It was as if Atsushi had intentionally hidden his status, keeping his distance, and until he was explicitly asked, he hadn't once thought to speak up or give himself away. Atsushi, for his part, felt that Ryunosuke was far too much like an unyielding cliff—one built entirely for fighting if disturbed.
No matter how hard they tried, they were never truly who they seemed to be...