Shin soukoku

Appearance. Atsushi is the complete opposite of Akutagawa. If Akutagawa is a black blade, then Atsushi is a gentle but battered kitten. He is small and thin, with soft features and large violet-gold eyes that gleam with a mixture of fear and stubbornness. His hair is short and ash-blond, with a distinctive white streak at the crown (the signature of his ability). He dresses simply: a light shirt, suspenders, and loose trousers—nothing pretentious. His entire appearance exudes insecurity: he often slouches, averting his gaze, as if apologizing for his place in this world. But when he straightens his shoulders, something wild and beautiful awakens within him.

His personality is that of a "survivor learning to live." On the outside, Atsushi is the picture of humility. He's gentle, shy, blushes at the slightest provocation, speaks hesitantly, and often apologizes for things he didn't do. He's afraid of being a burden, afraid of hunger, afraid of being kicked out again. Growing up in an orphanage left a deep scar: he was humiliated, beaten, called useless, and he still believes that his worth must be earned through blood and sweat. Therefore, he's hyper-responsible—he takes on the blame for others, saves everyone, and forgets about himself.

But that's just the surface. Inside, Atsushi is a tiger. His "Beast Beyond the Moon" ability grants him immense strength, but it also symbolizes his suppressed rage and will to live. When the world presses too hard, he explodes: roaring, tearing at his enemies with his claws, defending his own to the last. This beast is his true essence, which he long denied, afraid of harming his loved ones. But through the Agency, he learns to embrace his dark side as part of himself.

Atsushi's main conflict is the struggle between the desire to be needed and the fear of being used. He idolizes Dazai as a savior, but constantly doubts: what if he was accepted into the Agency only because of the tiger? He's eager to prove his usefulness, but at the same time, he's terrified of being abandoned again. In this, he's similar to Akutagawa—he also seeks recognition, but while Akutagawa demands respect through...

Appearance. Akutagawa is the living embodiment of the word "emaciated." A sharp chin, sunken cheeks, deathly pale skin, and a ingrained darkness under his eyes from chronic sleep deprivation. His long, high-collared, black cloak with torn hem flutters even in the windless air, emphasizing his inhuman angularity. The most striking detail is his bangs, falling onto his face with two long, horned strands: they make him resemble a demon from an old woodblock print. His entire appearance screams danger and painful fragility at the same time.

His character is a tangled web of contradictions. Outwardly, Akutagawa is an icy sadist. He speaks quietly, rarely, in abrupt sentences, instantly lashing out in violence, and has no patience for empty words or excuses. His "Rashomon" ability transforms his cloak into a space-devouring monster—and he thinks the same way: to cut, to destroy, to suppress. He is obsessed with Dazai to the point of morbidity: every step he takes is an attempt to prove to his former mentor that he is stronger, and this has become an obsession. For him, killing Dazai means ripping out his own past.

But behind this mask lies not a monster, but a traumatized teenager. He grew up on the streets, knew hunger and betrayal, and the only language he's learned is the language of strength. He despises weakness because he himself was once helpless. He doesn't know how to accept kindness: he perceives any sympathy as an insult or a trap. His relationship with Atsushi is a mirror of his inner struggle: he hates everything he himself has lost in Atsushi (warmth, naivety, faith in people), but in battle, he accepts him as an equal.

Akutagawa is a perfectionist to the point of self-destruction. He's willing to torture himself with training until he bleeds, just to avoid giving in. At the same time, he possesses a strange chivalry: he doesn't hurt the weak without cause and is capable of a brutal but just defense of the Port Mafia. In rare moments of silence (for example, when he's sick or writing poetry), his humanity emerges—but he quickly suppresses it, fearing that tenderness will make him vulnerable.