Imagine you are Atsushi. You think you know a man. You think you see him for who he is- bleeding claws and all. You think that you are sure in his character and in his entirety. You think that after so many battles and so much death, there is nothing else for you to know.
You think the two of you could not be more different or distant if you tried. You think that despite any change you may have brought, he is still someone you could never understand. You've come to terms with the idea that you both are simply two sides of the same coin.
And it takes an unfeeling blade for you to finally learn how much so.
You learn that you only vaguely knew him- a shadow blurred across your vision. You learn his claws are not simply bloodied from pain caused but from pain given- from climbing a mountain insurmountable even to one as strong as him. You learn that you knew his surface but not his core- something no battle had ever taught you. There is so much you have yet to know.
You learn the two of you are not so very different, the distance no more than a few steps. You learn that any change you brought in him was because, unknowingly, you were speaking a language that you didn't know he spoke right back. You learn that the hate that he held for you was born of a desire just as your own.
And you learn that there was never a coin at all, just a mirror- a thing made of broken edges, bruised bones, and hateful words. And you learn there were never two sides, simply two caged and cornered animals staring back at the other- hearts bleeding and hands grasping.
Grasping for acknowledgment, for acceptance, for a reason, for permission, for someone to tell them they were finally enough.
You stare at the man in the mirror, a dark anger of a person- all sharp points and serrated defenses- and can see yourself in his eyes. Eyes that don't look at you the same way they used to.
You wonder: when he looks in this mirror, does he see the same?
You will simply have to ask him once you return.
Imagine you are Atsushi. You have seen the heart of a man. A man with whom you cannot accurately describe your relationship- no word seems precise enough nor powerful enough. You still don't fully understand him. He still confuses you, annoys you, and causes an itch you cannot seem to scratch.
But none of that matters because you have already decided he is worth sacrificing for. Becuase he is Ryuunosuke Akutagawa.
You have already made it to the door that- if done right -will guide you back to him, aided by the ghosts of his past and yours.
And so, you place your hands upon the entrance and push.
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