[ The fiend behind the door may not have been the person he'd grown used to seeing scold Power for dumping all her veggies in the burnables bin, but as Denji lifts his chin, he still sees an echo of him there in Aki's face. That shadow who'd grinned at him like a kid relieved his friend could come out to play, and then said his name.

Hadn't that been Aki, too?

Whether he shakes his head in rejection of the notion that he hadn't killed him, that maybe Aki couldn't have lived and died a different way, or in dislike of the questions he's faced with, that's for Aki to interpret. ]

I dunno, I, I don't — think I'd be unsatisfied with this.

[ It's his typical selfish way of thinking. ]

But it's like comparin' one moment with having a million of them. Isn't it obvious which is better? And when you're gone — I dunno about that, either. There'd be nothin' left to do but just… miss you, I guess.