windfall | light a cigarette, i'll watch as it burns

light a cigarette, i'll watch as it burns

[ Knocking. The roar of ammunition fire in his ears. Blasts of heat and debris sticking to his face, dust crusting in his eyes. A delirious and delicious taste, sweet red like pomegranate, like Aki's skin scraping open in his mouth.

Denji doesn't talk much about what happened that day.

Not unusual, since he doesn't really talk much about any of what transpired prior to meeting Nayuta, either. Or about how sometimes he can still sense, not even hear, but sense a phone ringing in the distance, its pull like a spiral cord that's gone taut, that's trying to make its way back home and if he follows its trail, he might just find someone familiar on the other end of the receiver.

No, he doesn't tell anyone all that, because, see, the last time he did, Kishibe had just hummed and looked at him, the kind of look Denji would get from adults whenever they caught him picking through the dumpster for his next meal: pitying. Then, he'd shook out a flask from the inside of his coat and said, "Sometimes it's better for the line to go dead, kid."

Weird response, right? It'd made Denji go silent, think a bit. And after a while, he hadn't liked that so much, so he'd changed the subject to something inoffensive, like complaining about how much Nayuta's so much better at arcade games than he is, but Kishibe had cut him short at that point to go take a call.

Naturally, Denji had followed.

It's a little sad that a man in his silver years is the only person he can confide in, but Kishibe's not a bad guy — and that's coming from someone who generally hates men. Then again, the guy doesn't show his gaunt face around these parts unless he absolutely has to, which is probably by his own design, so it helps that he's never around long enough for Denji to get sick of seeing him. Up until that conversation, his absence wouldn't have been something Denji paid notice to. It'd usually take weeks and months and Nayuta asking where the funny, drunk geezer who always sneaks her hard candy is for him to see past the everyday chaos of being Tokyo's friendly neighborhood Chainsaw Man.

But as Denji creeped closer, overhearing some words but not registering most of them, a dangerous curiosity brought him to the edge of his hiding spot. What the hell has this dude been up to?

And then he'd froze.

"So the Gun Devil's position has been compromised. Initiate a tactical retreat."

Afterward, he hadn't done anything for a solid week besides go to school, kick some devil ass and stare vacantly at a pair of eggs frying in the pan for dinner each evening. Predictably, Nayuta had rapidly gotten sick of the menu. So before he could make his eighth pair of fried eggs, she'd scaled up his back and twisted his earlobes until he begged for forgiveness.

"Stuuupid! Dummy! Get a hold of yourself!" Nayuta raged on. "No more acting weird, or else I'm putting doggy kibble in your cereal again!"

She was right. He needed to get a hold of himself. Yeah, he was dumb, but that didn't mean he had eggshells for brains. He could still do stuff in his own way.

In the following weeks, Denji spent his time hounding members of the Devil Hunter Club for all and any relevant knowledge pertaining to devils. From rumors about recent devil sightings, to insights into things like the theoretical mechanics behind how long it took for certain types of devils to die in Hell and be reborn, to mathematical equations projecting the survivability rate of fiends based on the velocity and quantity of violence…

Of course, he only understood about three-percent of anything at any given time, but one detail of interest shared by some gloomy, pig-tailed girl stood out to him. According to her, a mysterious amount of devils had been slain in the Kabukicho district, none of which had been reported by either civilian hunters or Public Safety ones.

Anyone with half their wits would be able to easily determine that this wasn't a reasonable lead, but for Denji? He could feel something trilling out to him. ]

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[ He barely recoils, but Denji still feels the slightest strain away at his fingertips, that alone cause enough to swiftly frighten the vice from his grip. It's a little ridiculous — there's a swollen imprint of his teeth scabbing over on Aki's thigh. Now, he's being careful?

Denji doesn't understand it himself, brushing softly at the spot he'd pulled too hard against Aki's scalp.

But during sex, it's different. The pleasure balances the pain, something sweet to chase away the bitterness their bodies soak up on a daily basis, like a used rag. It goes down good, better than how it feels to go about his day when all he has to worry about is getting school on time. When there are no corpses piling up, no sirens to herald his arrival, no one saying the magic words — Save me, Chainsaw Man — that's what doesn't feel normal. That's what feels strange to him. Off-putting. Like coming home to an open door when you're pretty sure you locked it when you left; what monsters hide inside a normal life? He's not sure he's ready to find out. Not without… ]

In a normal life, you aren't here anymore. You woulda stayed dead when 'Denji' killed you. But… because of 'Chainsaw Man,' I get to see you again.

[ And because of Chainsaw Man, he can save Aki someday. ]

[...Right. No matter what, it all comes back to saving people. He can say it's for whatever he thinks it is, but in the end, it's about Denji feeling useful in some way. And if Aki finds him useful, isn't that the clearest sign of victory for him? The one authority figure in his life that's still around right now. If he's here to check off what Denji is doing as "good," that should be good enough. That should prove he's on the right track. But now Aki is telling him not to do the thing he wants to do. And how fair is that? Aki isn't his authority figure anymore. Hell, all he ever did was hold his leash, yank him back when he got a little too nippy at people - and even then, he's still barking up a storm. Since when did he ever do anything for him? His first few months under surveillance, all he could think about were all the things he never got a chance to do.]

...You didn't kill me.

[This is kind of semantics. Because Gun killed him. And Denji killed Gun. ...Or, was it "Chainsaw Man" that killed Gun? He doesn't know. Whatever.]

I would have been dead by the end of this year anyway. If it didn't happen the way it did, something else would have killed me.

[He shifts him slightly on his knee, trying to get him to look at him directly.]

Then what are you going to do when I'm gone? You'll be satisfied with this moment, right now?

[ 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.

[With Denji so close to him, he can feel the vibration of his body every time he speaks, the sound waves in the air and the breath from his lungs as he tells Aki there would be nothing left for him to do once Aki is gone. If Power were still here, he wants to ask, would he feel differently? What about Makima?]

[But a part of him rejects the idea of hearing Denji's responses to those questions. It shouldn't matter. It's not the point.]

You used to go so crazy, talking about your dreams, and your desires.

[He still remembers when he was screaming about a dream battle when he picked him up that one time. Has listened to him fantasize about touching boobs, seeing a real woman naked. Having sex. All those shallow, vapid dreams. They were shallow and vapid, but over time, they changed, too, didn't they? Doesn't he have new dreams now? And can't they be anything but throwing himself in harm's way?]

I can't see you moping around just because I'm not here. That devil is here, and you've got to finish school, and...

[He trails off. Doesn't plant any ideas about what Denji will do after high school. It's a weirdly nebulous idea, to even imagine him standing there with a degree. Who would go with him? That devil? Kishibe? ...Probably not Kishibe.]

...Just for once, I wish you cared about something long-term. Something that will matter years from now. Something you can build toward, and be proud of.

[It feels too much like he's lecturing himself. And because of that, he knows it's a shallow thing for him to say. If someone said that to him at Denji's age, he would have been furious. Even if his goal was short-sighted, it was all he cared about for so long. Being told to ditch it in favor of something as bland and vague as a normal life would be an insult. Because why would he, after all he'd been through, ever want anything like that? He only now has the benefit of hindsight. But even with it... What would he have changed?]

[He sighs. Leans his head down to drop it on Denji's shoulder.]

But I'm the last person who should tell you that. [At least he's aware enough to admit it.]

[ Everything he speaks about has Denji feeling like the sun is setting into the pits of his stomach, cooling, leaving him frigid in the darkness; he keeps a hand clasped hard at Aki's neck like he's trying to draw heat back into his fingertips. Keep warm through the night using a flame that flickers at any singular movement. It's useless, so useless. That's what Aki's been telling him, what he's repeated to him continuously, and what he's continued to ignore: Aki's honest wish — he's been hounding for it, waiting for a sign of something else that he's seeking out besides a life of servitude to the government, of fetching the other pieces of Gun to self-assemble his own demise, and now Denji's got it. And, now, Denji doesn't want it.

At the hotel, Denji admitted that he cared about Aki. So is he saying, essentially, he doesn't want to be one of those long-term things? Or that he can't be? Can't be something that matters, someone that stays. He wants to understand him. He's trying so badly to. ]

…I guess you're the only guy who will tell me that stuff. [ The tip of his nose brushes close against the shell of his ear, past the long bristles of his damp hair, feigning that it's close enough. It's not. ] When you were gone, that was another thing I missed. You getting mad at us. Tellin' me off.

[ Losing that again… Yes, he can see it. He lived it, obviously, so he knows what a life without Aki will look like, even though it's the last thing he wants to imagine. An idea he's been denying this whole time, but he knows the truth. It's just another absence to survive. And if his plans to save him don't pan out, which is something he has to seriously consider, then —

His eyes shut as he breathes in, sniffing along the coast of his hairline long and ragged, like he's trying to extract another part of Aki to keep for himself. But, at this point, they both smell of the same detergent. ]

Remember what you said back at the hotel. You're gonna be the one to find me next time. We made a promise. So if I do what you want me to and make it big, you have to come back to see how well I'm doing. You can't forget.

[...Right. He's supposed to be the one finding Denji next time. He had said it partially to coax him down, to try and convince him of something he's still not sure he will accept, even after Aki is gone. But for now he nods, leaning against Denji when he pulls in close to take in his scent. It's a strange feeling - but he gets it. Because he wants to remember this smell, too.]

I won't.

[Even if it was a promise he made without thinking he could accomplish it, even if he knows he might eventually lose himself the more of Gun he consumes... He's sure he won't forget that promise. He raises his head and shuts off the water, briefly pushing Denji's hair aside like he's trying to fix it, keep it a little bit neater. An impossible goal, so instead he leans in and presses a brief kiss to his temple.]

Come on. Let's get these sheets in the wash. [He motions for him to get up. His knee hurts from balancing him.]

[ He looks faintly disappointed when his eyes reopen, his face slid into a tilt and bottom lip pushed up — an expression a child would make, as if he'd been expecting something else. Rubbing a hand over the still-warm spot he'd pressed his lips to, Denji stares at him before grabbing Aki's cheeks with both hands, nails pressing into the taper of hair that disappears into his jaw, and yanking him down again for a firm, but horribly brief, kiss. Once that's settled, then he unsaddles from Aki's lap. ]

I'm movin', I'm movin'.

[ The towel he swipes to pat his face dry doesn't really keep him from dripping all over place outside the bath, little drops of water joining the other stains collaging their sheets as he shakes his hair into its usual disarray. Used to doing laundry on his own by now, he barely muffles a yawn as everything's thrown inside and he gets the machine spinning. Hopefully it doesn't need more than one cycle, but they'll just have to deal with that as it comes…

He peeks his head out to make sure Nayuta's still asleep — and it looks like it, by how her door's shut. With a look over his shoulder, he asks Aki: ] You want me to run out and grab your clothes?

[Of course. Denji gets an awkward-closed-mouth kiss in return as Aki makes a slighly annoyed sound until he finally gets up. He dries off as Denji deals with the laundry and glances over his shoulder when he looks outside to see that the devil is still in the bedroom. Good, he thinks.]

Yeah. In my bag. [A small travel bag he was given with a few changes of clothes. It's made it very apparent his stay here is intended to be short.] ...Never mind, I'll get them. [Changing his mind, he wraps the towel around himself and motions for Denji to step aside, heading to the bag. He doesn't want Denji digging through his things, actually. He'll probably be weird about his underwear or something.]

[His voice low, he asks:] When does she get up?

[ Having stepped out after him, Denji, for a second time, considers the closed door behind which Nayuta should be peacefully snoozing. How long were they cleaning up for again? ]

Uh, probably… Kinda soon —

[ The door whisks open, letting way to a sleepy-eyed Nayuta and her usual entourage, the hoops of their leashes in hand. Her shirt sleeves hang over the fist she raises to scrub away the crumbs from her eyes, but the movement comes to a sudden stop. Brows raised, her gaze flickers from her brother to the stray that's been with them for nearly a week now, both of whom in a similar state of undress. A whiff of something like milk and honey catches her nose, overpowering anything else that may be lingering in the air, which wouldn't normally be cause for annoyance — that's the body wash they all use. But for it to be so strong…

Her expression darkens. When was the last time Denji gave her a bath? Washed her hair? Stupid idiot. ]

Come.

[ She says, tersely, to the dogs, particularly the few tugging at their harness to greet Denji and Aki. Her mouth purses, as she has to dig her heels in to get them to register the command. Grrr, these ill-behaved animals. All of them! ]

Hey! I said come!

[ As always, it takes some wrangling, but they do eventually heed her call and follow after her as she marches out the door. ]

[ It's only after Nayuta's left that Denji's towel drops from his waist to the floor. He doesn't bend to pick it up, too preoccupied with staring after the girl. ]

…Just remembered. She takes the dogs out to pee before giving 'em breakfast.

[The way she huffs and stomps out like she caught them eating her pudding from the fridge... Can she tell?]

[He doesn't know. He doesn't know if she even has the understanding of what sex is. She might look like a child, but at the end of the day, she's a devil. Immaturity only goes so far when you're a creature led by id. He would know.]

Yeah, well. [He continues onward, taking the time that they have now to get a fresh set of clothes out of his bag.] Go get dressed before she comes back. [Nothing to do about it. He looks at Denji as he pulls his underwear on, frowning at him.] You said she doesn't like people touching you, or being too close to you. Don't you think that's something you should train out of her? [He can't exactly live an adult life never being physically intimate with people.]

[ Train her? Seriously? His eyes flutter up in an eye roll. ]

Well, yeah, I wanna teach her.

[ On his way to Aki's side, he kicks the towel up and catches it before squishing up against him, trying to peer into his duffel bag. Then, just to be annoying, Denji's hand flashes out to snatch, at the same time, a fresh pair of his underwear and a shirt he can wear under his school uniform.

Denji speaks as he holds the shirt spread out to judge if it'll fit him. ]

But I think it's just gonna take her getting used to being around us at the same time, y'know? Like, maybe, we need to hangout somewhere fun together. So it doesn't feel like she's less important…

[Denji snatches a set of his underwear and Aki pauses, staring at him openly, brows set and frown heavy. He's about to say something about how his clothes won't even fit him, anyway - but when he holds the shirt out and it actually seems to match his proportions, he shuts up. He saw it before, understood it before, but... There's a weird part of him that's happy to see him with muscle mass now. That he's built up his body from the bony runt he was before.]

I don't know if that's a good idea yet. She won't even talk to me most of the time.

[As if the blame lays solely with her when he barely talks to her, either. Yesterday while Denji recovered in bed they ate dinner together in silence.]

She probably doesn't understand sex yet - so don't bring it up to her. Just say you woke up early and we used the shower together, or something.

[Way more normal. Totally chill behavior.]

[ His brow wavers. ]

When will it be a good idea?

[ The shirt glides easy over his shoulders, the fit not too tight, not too loose; Denji looks himself up and down, lifting an arm to sniff at one of his pits, and, satisfied, quickly moves on to drawing Aki's underwear up. The waistband hangs low on his hips, a slip of his navel still visible when his shirt flutters as he heads to the window, but it is what it is. He hasn't been able to do the laundry recently.

Denji bends one of the slats in his blinds. The sun hasn't risen yet, but there are a few furry shapes milling around the yard, sniffing, still trying to find a spot to finish their business. Huskies are so picky, but at least it's a good thing in this instance. ]

I'll just tell her what you told me. One of your hands doesn't work very well, right? So you need more help in the bath.

[Aki ignores that first question for now. Doesn't want to give any kind of answer he's going to regret later. If he says something random like "In a week" he'll be counting down the days. And Aki knows he won't be here that long.]

[But he forgot that he lied about his hand. The way he says it, Aki can't tell if he believes his lie or if he's just testing out the words. After a hesitant pause, he nods. Sure. Fine. Denji never did help him in the bath back then, but like hell she's going to know that.]

[Fully dressed, he briefly looks Denji over with a frown. He doesn't love that he's wearing his clothes, but still says nothing about it. Judging by the pile of laundry that was in that bedroom, maybe he just hasn't gotten around to washing everything yet. But still, she's a devil. Won't she smell it on him? Maybe this is part of training - or, "teaching" her out of it.]

You're going to school, right? [Said with the assumption that the answer is a resounding "Yes."] I'll make you both something to eat. Go get dressed.

[ Spot on. If Nayuta can only smell Aki between the two of them, surely, that'll wash out any differentiation between their scents, and therefore set her on the path of, well, associating good feelings with their temporary roommate. That's how devil psychology works — maybe? Denji's 70% of the way sure, anyway. …And, okay, okay, he just wants to hang on to Aki a little longer, sue him. ]

…Yeah, I'm goin', [ he detachedly says back to Aki, as if it were something he just decided to agree to in the moment. The fair warning in Aki's voice may have had something to do with that. He starts to enter the bedroom, passing by Meowy, her tail briefly brushing against Denji's ankle. ] If you need help with breakfast, ask Nayuta. She's had her fun — [ At the cost of a whole street in Shinjuku sinking into the ground. ] I think she'll try to be good this time.

[ With that, the door slides shut. ]

[ A little over five minutes later, another one opens.

Released from their tethers, the dogs all rush inside, overly energetic in that way dogs usually are after a good poop. Tiramisu's sniffing along the lining of the cabinet that holds all their kibble — that doggy's always been a smart one. She treats Aki as non-existent, if he's already in the kitchen, folding herself into the compact area, barely avoiding stepping on a fluffy paw or tail. ]

Outta the way, Creamy. [ Her nickname for Cream Puff. She stuffs the dog's face aside to reach where Tiramisu's at, doing the same to the other dog as well. ] Don't be bad, either of you. You know the penalty is to balance a bucket on your head!

[ Bits of dried food pour out eight times each; since some of them get territorial, the dogs and Meowy have their own food bowl, their name glossing the side in permanent marker. They all have to share from the same basin for water, though, so while their jaws are snapping away, Nayuta carries the water tray to the sink, careful not to slosh what's in there over the heads of their pets. Less careful as she passes Aki by and dumps the old water down the drain.

A glance. ]

Half-gun. [ Hard to say whether she's trying to insult him to his face or actually address him. ] Are you making that thing you made before? Don't put in as much of that green stuff in like last time.

[Half-Gun. Of all the things he's thought of himself as in the previous year, all the harsh words he's tortured himself with, that one didn't come up. He glances down at the devil before looking back at the countertop. Considers fully ignoring her as he chops the green onion into thin slices.]

You aren't going to convince me of anything if you can't even call me by my name.

[He doesn't care about how healthy she is. If she eats a proper diet, gets enough greens and a varied diet. He might actually do what she says if the meal wasn't also going to Denji, who does need those things.]

And stop yelling at the dogs. Giving them attention when they're bad only makes them act up to get more of it.

[Something he learned from Denji.]

[ I don't know your name, she stubbornly wants to say, knowing full well he would see through the lie. Not just because Denji is always crowing after the man these days, reaching for him with the hands she used to drag with her on walks with the dogs, but with his big mouth, it's obvious he's told her about him long before the gunpowder-reeking hybrid stepped foot into their home. She knows that he helped him kick in the balls of some sword head they fought, that he always nagged Denji for not sorting his clothes a specific way, and that he went from two arms to one, that even when he was purely human, clearly he wasn't a complete one. She even knows what his tombstone looks like, and she knows that Denji oozes with his scent, as well as something else, every time she sees them side-by-side. ]

Oh… So you still care about that sort of thing. That's sure human of you, Aki Hayakawa.

[ The basin's only halfway full. There's time to kill. She turns, casting her gaze — not an unkind one — over the lot of them merrily eating away. ]

I know that, duh. I yell at them because I like it when they want my attention.

Don't speak on humanity when you don't have an ounce of it.

[She's just trying to get under his skin. He knows it. But it's been so long since he dealt with anyone like this - Is that why she's able to peel back the layer so easily? No, maybe it's the way Gun reacts to her. Twisting around like it's hard to breathe.]

At least take them out of the kitchen. They're going to make me trip. [One of them keeps weaving too close to his legs, sniffing up at the counter when he starts chopping up sausage and whining when he pushes it away by the nose.] A good owner doesn't need to demand their attention.

I have Denji. [ She whips the words out like a switchblade she had prepared in her back pocket. ] He's way heavier than an ounce.

[ That's not what he means, Nayuta gets that, but she's been itching to say it. To declare her ownership a second time, in case she didn't make it clear the first. She also gets that Denji's not quite like other humans, that it isn't just his heart that sets him apart. He's so stupid, hopelessly trying to breathe underwater despite being an animal that can only live locked to the land. What Half-Gun's been doing is trying to give a dog scuba gear. It's funny, but tiring to watch — that's why she's the only shepherd he needs. The only family.

She shuts the faucet off, stooping down to pick up the fussing dog's half-empty bowl and shaking the contents as she leads it away. ]

But I guess you're trying to say you're a better owner than me?

[Right. This conversation again. Having Denji versus Denji being his own person. Aki knows not to jump on it, knows to let sleeping dogs lie. Denji doesn't need the added stress.]

[...His ass kind of hurts, come to think of it.]

I'm not arguing anything with you.

[Blunt. Straightforward. Since he's not the head of the house and can't exactly report her misbehavior to a superior, he can't treat this situation like he did in the past. Even if some of the ways she speaks and moves remind him uncomfortably of Power.]

[At least it's not Makima.]

[He continues making breakfast, miso soup, a fried egg sunny side up. Sausage on the side, a small salad. A normal breakfast. A healthy breakfast. No one in the right mind can complain about that.]

[He places the dishes down in front of the devil first, then fills out the rest of the table. Pointing to the salad, he says,] Finish it all and you get dessert.

Why not? You trying to get on Denji's good side?

[ Before it can register that it's likely he's just following his own advice and not donating his attention to anyone trying to rile him up, dog or devil, Nayuta's gaze switches to the food-brimmed table. All of it smells goo — er, acceptable, but because the Gun specifies the salad, she makes a show of sniffing at it twice. Her nose picks up sesame mingled in with a sweet acidity in the dressing. It'll probably taste just fine.

She looks up at him, an expectant hand held out. ]

If you gimme dessert now… [ I'll eat it all, Nayuta almost says, but actually, she doesn't think this guy cares that much about that. Or about her. Which is fine, the feeling's mutual, but what's something she could dangle that might put him in his place? ]

I'll tell you something about yesterday. When he left you for me.

[Denji's good side, huh. What good has that ever gotten him? Even if he's on his good side, half the time he tells him the weirdest translation of his thoughts that Aki has to mull through to get to the root of. And then it turns out to be something simple like being lonely. Mourning. Basic human emotions that he should understand by now. Someone else should have had these conversations with him years ago.]

[But then she offers that, and it seems like something Aki should consider. Given how yesterday went - that phone call, how he crawled into bed with him, told him to accept his hand as some sort of repayment while refusing to explain what he was being repayed for. What he's repenting for.]

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