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. ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ Rolled over, watching Aki compare his past self to soggy noodles, he thinks about all the times he would have been willing to argue that plain soba isn’t so bad. That cold nikuman still goes down as easily as it does warmed. It isn’t the fault of the pitcher who keeps aiming for the pole, but the jerkwad who constructed something so inconsistently attainable in the first place — stuff like that, everything he would tell himself to get by. But apparently, there’s something wrong enough with how he’s been living that it's forced Aki to go so far as to beat him over the head with twice as many figures of speech than a regular person should need to sort out a better trajectory for their life.

It's working, though, a chord striking within Denji in a way it hasn't before. ]

…I still like sex and food, [ he says, lightly, as if treading over an icy river bed. Today's been a long one, so he'll do his best to wring his thoughts out all at once before Aki has the chance to snap at him. And afterward, Aki can go clean up and Denji can change into new pants or something. ]

But I think I know what you mean by stuff tasting like day-old riceball. Like, y'know, it wasn't as cracked up to be as I thought. Like there were times I could look and see on the packaging — [ He shifts back upright now, suddenly animated, maybe it's his post-nut clarity at work, but he stretches a hand over to tap against Aki's shirt, using the balled up thing as a substitute prop for actual onigiri. ] — that its best-by date had passed, but I still ate it. [ The shirt comes back with Denji when he withdraws. Barely notices his own casual theft. ] 'cause that's all 100 yen could afford, and if I didn't, I'd just starve… You ever rather have something expired than nothing at all?

[ It's a pathetic way to see himself, to see desire and sex and affection, but to his credit, Denji speaks pretty gamely about the matter. He isn't fishing for consolation from Aki — rather, in his own way, he's trying to reassure him that he's been listening along. ]

Anyway, what I'm trying to say is, if you seriously think there's something more out there, something way more and way better that even I can get…

[ He'll try, is what he's hinting at. ]

[Aki doesn't fight for his shirt back. That was another benefit of Kishibe's visit - getting a fresh change of clothes. He doesn't even notice it, truth be told. He listens as Denji blathers his way through his own understanding, the shadows of his food insecurity in everything he says, making Aki want to get up and cook him a full dinner like he'd initially planned. Frustrating, that it still gets to him. He looks up when he finally settles on what Aki is trying to get through to him, and Aki nods, encouraging. Like trying to praise a puppy who just half-accomplished a trick. Keeping him on the right course.]

There is.

[There has to be.]

[Aki's own dream was shallow and stupid like Denji's. Kill the worst devil known to man. Now look where he ended up. That devil, sleeping inside him, twisting his body into metal at the slightest offense. But Denji is different. Denji can find happiness.]

[He has to.]

[Aki pushes himself to his feet, grabbing his underwear as he goes and rubbing his head.] I'm going to wash off. Get some sleep. [He heads into the bathroom without another word. Sated but not. Content with Denji's understanding of things. Hopeful. So stupid, to be hopeful, but he is. Denji is alive and he just felt it, just experienced it. Touched him, really touched him, for the first time and proved it. More than a pinch and he's still sitting there. He thinks about that as water runs over his face, washes away blood he didn't realize was stuck to his skin. He thinks about the blood he saw on Denji and how quickly he reacted. How quickly Gun reacted. Why?]

[When he shuts off the water, he realizes he didn't even turn on the light. Just felt around like a zombie, searching for an answer to all this sudden change. He dries off and gets dressed, then heads out into the living room to sleep. He still can't look at himself in the mirror. Without consciously meaning to, he sets the extra bed out in front of the door, as if that will stop him from leaving too early, missing him, even if he's always up first. It works out - he's the one who sleeps in that morning, unmoving under the bedding.]

[ Aki disappears into the bathroom, leaving Denji to freely reflect on whether he’s said the right things, made the right decisions — or just made all the clearer how much he doesn't understand anything. He wonders if he should have prodded him more about that stuff with Miss Himeno, or what other sorts of people and flavors he’s tried, because who knows when he'll ever get the chance to again down the line. He wonders, too, if he should have admitted that he thought Aki was more like soba topped with sauce and oysters and grilled duck. Sides of tempura and sesame tofu. But no, that would have invited speculation about what Aki thinks of him in turn, if he minds the scent of wet dog, and...

Maybe they should have spoken about Gun. Aki's hybrid transformation.

Actually, this is too much thinking for one night.

Nayuta's unmoved from her usual spot when he shuffles inside. He doesn't think to check if she's actually snoring or faking. Odds are, she probably would have made herself known much earlier if she overheard something incriminating, so they're probably safe. He heads straight for his hamper to toss in Aki's dirty shirt with his own dirty laundry, but halts right before he does, turning it over to examine its neatly tucked sides. Then, his nose dives directly into the collar. It doesn't smell half-bad for blood, sweat, spit, and gunpowder.

The next morning, Denji gets up early.

Not because he wants to, but because Nayuta's a good kid who wakes up at the same hour each day and demands to be fed. He tells her that if she keeps herself and the dogs down, he'll fiddle around with their dinky toaster oven and heat up some of the leftovers from last night. Nayuta sticks two suckers in her mouth and agrees. The dogs sneeze and pant and grunt, but they're otherwise soundless.

It's while Nayuta's standing on her tippy-toes at the sink to get the food bowls prepped for the animals that Denji manages to visit his bedside. Meowy, planted squarely on Aki's chest, chirrups at his approach and he briefly squishes a hand to the top of her head. Aki looks more boyish when he's asleep, which is something Denji was aware of from when he'd catch him napping after work or his head would come knocking against his shoulder during a late night movie — the only time this wasn't really the case was after Darkness. He looked haggard, then. Thinned out and laminated. Right now, his complexion matches more with that of how a young adult should look, or even younger, like they both could be classmates. Aki could probably fit into his uniform if he tried it on.

Acting on impulse, he grazes a knuckle against the fringe of Aki's hair, his forehead, past the dip of his brow. He thinks about inserting a finger into his mouth. But he gives his nose a tweak instead. ]

Wakey, wakey, princess. Mornin'.

[At some point in the night Meowy wakes him up by wanting to sleep on him for the warmth. He was on his side at that point but, upon feeling her in the dip of his stomach, turned over so she could take a more queenly position. He doesn't care. It feels good to feel the rumble of her purr again. He only really got to experience it if he had time to sit down for a bit in between getting home and Denji and Power getting home, and that was a few and far between luxury. When Power got home, she would get off of him and meet her at the door like a dog. Weird cat, he'd said.]

[But those small movements still wake him easily, so Aki is already blinking awake when Denji touches his forehead, then his nose. He shifts, annoyed at the contact. Then the name.]

Yeah... [It's been awhile since he slept mostly through the night. Meowy was the only thing that woke him up. When he starts to shift she climbs off of him and he doesn't watch her go, instead pushing himself up and staring at Denji tiredly. How's he up so early, he thinks, in a strange twist of circumstances.]

[Then he hears the clatter of a food bowl and sees her at the counter. Right. The devil. Aki rubs his eyes and pushes the futon back, getting to his feet so he can pull it out of the way. He doesn't feel like explaining why he put it in front of the door. Even if he thought up a few stupid excuses last night. I was warm. The floor board kept squeaking when I shifted. Stupid stuff when Denji never asks those questions anyway.]

You... Sleep alright? [What a weird thing to say. It's not like they actually slept-slept together. Aki shakes his head, rolling the futon to store for the day.] You need to get a coffee machine, here. [As if he's planning to stay long enough to make that worth it.]

[ Denji doesn't follow after, pausing to overwater the houseplants, specifically the one Nayuta's been neglecting for weeks. He doesn't say anything about the placement of the futon. He tends to implicitly accept that Aki has his own reasons for doing stuff the way he does. So nothing needs to be said. ]

Let's look for one over the weekend.

[ He glances over his shoulder, taking inventory of what counter space they have left and ponders what to shelve. Between Nayuta being so young and Denji having the same taste buds as someone several years his junior, a mud water machine wouldn't get much application if Aki ditches town. Instant coffee would probably make more sense for their living situation, but it's been a long time since he's seen Aki brewing something. It may not be a pourover, but it'd still be one less thing he wouldn't have to compromise. They could get away with stuffing the rice cooker in the lower cabinet, anyway. ]

Uh… I slept? Could've been better. [ The answer comes accompanied by a shrug. He crumples the bottle of water he'd been using, leaves it on the table as he reaches over to turn the TV on. Blood loss and jerking off would have had him dead asleep on any other night, but he doesn't mention that. ] I'll just snooze during class today.

[ The news zaps on. Some interview by an alleged former doomsday cultist promoting his book. Boring. ]

Hey, Aki. What were you like in high school?

[Aki follows him into the kitchen area, taking stock of something similar to Denji: they really don't have that much room. With all the dog bowls, it's even more obvious to him. He doesn't think about what Denji says too closely, how it sounds like a parent appeasing a child. Let's look this weekend. Something so domestic it still sounds alien to his ears.]

[He begins fishing around for something to make breakfast with, landing on eggs for today. He really needs to wake up earlier if he wants to make Denji a bigger breakfast. Especially if he claims he's going to be sleeping in class, which earns a flat look from Aki.]

[The question comes as he's whisking the eggs. He looks up, facing the stove so it hides the somewhat chagrined twitch it gives his expression.] High school... [That feels like it was so long ago.] I don't know. I didn't make a lot of friends. I'm sure I wasn't a pleasure to be around. [Definitely teenage angst mixed with actual trauma. He doesn't remember making connections with pretty much anyone.] Where I lived, in Hokkaido, that area didn't allow devil hunting clubs. I remember that was a big deal. Lots of kids protesting. I didn't care that much, though, since I wasn't interested in small fry. [And what else were devil hunting clubs fighting? Surely nothing bigger than that.] I lived in an orphanage, but back then, it was right after the Gun Devil's attacks. Especially in that area, any time you built anything, a devil would destroy it within the year. The fear was that bad. Our school had public safety hunters patrolling at all hours, since it was a larger public school. You couldn't join until you were eighteen, though.

[Of course most of his memories at that time are about devils. As a student, he wasn't interested in preparing for anything else.]

I went to Tokyo the moment I was old enough and enrolled in Public Safety. So... [He pauses to roll the omelet he's been cooking, difficult without the correct pan but it comes out neat enough.] I was probably the kind of student who didn't care about his classes. I just wanted to graduate and get out of there.

[Setting it onto a plate, he puts it in front of Denji as he steps back to make a second for the devil.] Probably not the kind of person to model your school life after. No friends, no clubs. Just a stupid, lofty goal.

[Hint, hint. He hasn't asked Denji if he has any friends, but the one person he was hanging around brought him to a devil nest. Doesn't sound too friendly.]

[ Apart from Denji interrupting early into his account to excitedly cry — ]

I knew it! I knew you were a delinquent! I bet you were picking fights and smoking next to the urinals the second your pubes grew in!

[ — he manages to keep most of his commentary to himself, though it's plainly an uphill battle for him. Hardly any of this stuff came up during their Hokkaido trip, but hearing about it almost makes him want to suggest another one, like watching a film a second time to catch all the references and easter eggs he missed the first. Yet Denji doesn't, principally because he knows what it's like to want to shut a part of your life out, deadbolt the hinges and chain the door. Keep the peephole covered. Never mind that traveling together is definitively out of the question while under the purview of the government.

Denji aims the remote at the TV screen, trying to flip to a different news channel. Still no word on either of them being sighted at Kabukicho. ]

I'm not trying to be like you. I just — I mean, I dunno if I'd call it stupid is all. I hear lotsa people took the hiring exam to join Public Safety after the attack.

[ One time, Denji stopped by a picket line of protestors on his way to school. They were handing out free tissues and juice boxes. They went on about all sorts of crap, like the blatant propaganda push by the Chief Cabinet Secretary to enlist new blood. The Hokkaido region would have been the primary audience for the campaign, but even while living in the grouted cracks of his backwater hometown, Denji remembers listening to his creditors grouse about the drain of human capital. Aki was just another name to add to the roster. Probably the closest out of his inducted class to realizing his goal, too. Just not as close as Makima. ]

I've only really looked at the devil hunter club. [ For assistance finding Aki. ] But I haven't looked into anything else — might be too late to join one now.

[ This whole time, Nayuta's been preoccupied keeping the snapping jaws below her waist bay, but noticing breakfast being served, she hastens her pace, crookedly lining up the bowls against the tiles and then skidding into her own seat, knobby knees running into the legs of the table. She makes a face at the eggs; up until a few weeks ago, these were all she ate. Denji pointedly doesn't look her way, continuing to chew.

It feels like they’re converging on an actual routine now with a third person entering the mix, tapping into something pre-programmed in them. Helps that regardless of the line he and Aki crossed last night, things are still more or less the same. ]

But you really never did anything? No karaoke? No batting cages? You looked so popular back in Public Safety. Didn't think you'd be such a loser as a kid.

[ Says a loser who does none of that, either. At any rate, he's conflating popularity with being well-connected with coworkers, but to him, it doesn't look all that different. ]

[Aki shakes his head dismissively at the idea he was a delinquent. He probably spent more time ratting other kids out than doing anything that could be considered suspect. Denji already thinks of him as a tight-ass, though, so he keeps that to himself.]

Now that I'm older, I think devil-hunting clubs are stupid. [He finishes rolling the second omelet and places it in front of Nayuta, not really looking at her. He's only feeding her because he knows he has to. Denji would be mad if he didn't, or worse - give her his own food.] Kids don't know what they're doing. They're just throwing themselves out there, risking their lives with no training. They should leave it to the actual hunters.

[Of course Aki still trusts authority over common rule. Despite being owned by the government, that hasn't changed - in fact, maybe it's even strengthened.]

But I didn't loosen up until I entered Public Safety. Himeno-senpai forced me to. [That should give Denji a better picture of him. That this is "loosened up" compared to when he was Denji's age.] She made me go to mixers and nomihodai. We used to have get-togethers to train on off-hours a few times a month, with other divisions. It was mostly just to blow off steam, drink and smoke after beating eat other up. [He has the nerve to sound fond about this. At the time he thought it was stupid and a waste of effort. But now, he's thankful for those nights. Not being alone with his own thoughts while eating dinner. Not staring at his own reflection in the blank TV screen. Not feeling alone, for the first time in years.]

That's how I got connected. Got information. Stayed on top of things. [He sits down at the table, not bothering to make himself anything. His stomach always feels weird the morning after using Gun.] And why I don't have anything left up in Hokkaido, so to speak.

[If Denji had been paying more attention, he's not sure what he would have seen. He didn't have favorite places to hang out, local restaurants he haunted. Hell, he didn't even live in his hometown after the attack. They shipped him to the other side of Sapporo, where there was room.]

It's important to make connections, wherever you're stuck. I didn't learn that until I was older. You still have time.

[ With nothing meaningful to contribute to the school club discussion, Denji opts to take another bite of his rolled omelet and let it drop. Yeah, he's heard things about them being considered a talent pipeline of sorts, more so for students interested in an accelerated training program prior to entering Public Safety or the private sector… But it doesn't change that, with or without experience, students and professionals are gonna get killed regardless. And indiscriminately, at that.

No, he's more concerned with the fact that Aki's telling him, in so many words, to put more effort into making friends now that he's not allowed to focus on getting a girlfriend. He sniffs. ]

Yeah, yeah, sure. You say that but easier said than done! Everyone's already got pals.

[ He unrolls a strip of egg, chomping on it in the kind of sullen way only a teenager would be able to. It's interesting — Denji claimed a moment ago that he wasn't trying to be like him, but hearing Aki wistfully talk about his time at Public Safety makes him wish he was still badged and sanctioned. Like going through the same thing, sharing the same memory, might help him understand Aki better. Make him feel less far away sometimes, and Denji less like a kid whose whimsies are getting humored.

"Just join a Chainsaw Man fan club, Denji!" Nayuta scoffs, unevenly portioning out her omelet. "Even my school has one! I lead our meetings during playtime." ]

Ooh… [ He actually considers it, more than he would doing something normal like asking someone for help on his homework or joining in on a game of basketball during lunch. Fan clubs aren't exclusive to schools. If he could find one out in the community, he'd be able to meet a more diverse pool of people… But he looks at Aki, nervously. ]

…That's a no, right?

[The look Aki gives Nayuta is cold. Absolutely not, he wants to say, but considering the way Denji looks at him, he seems like he already gets that. He doesn't say anything to her, eventually turning his eyes back to Denji with a look that says, Don't even think about it.]

What about that girl yesterday, who you were with? [Who Aki doesn't trust. Actually, he wonders if she was in the Devil Hunting Club... Ugh. Why can't Denji take up a normal hobby like sports or choir or something?] Isn't there anyone you talk to there? How long have you been enrolled - a year, and you haven't talked to anyone more than once?

[Sounds doubtful. Aki at least had acquaintances, if he really thinks back on it. Sure, he doesn't remember any of their names, but that's not important. Denji is more sociable than he is, he just... gets manipulated easily and everyone seems to want to kill him.]

[Still.]

Try and talk to someone today. At least talk - that's how you start. Alright? [He really does feel like an older brother doing this, leaning forward on the table and looking at Denji tiredly.] And not in some stupid fanclub.

["It's not stupid!" Nayuta tells him, but Aki doesn't even look her way.]

[ …Oh. Oh. They don’t like each other.

The past few days have made it obvious, but for some reason, the realization only soaks in at that very moment, while Nayuta’s stewing and Aki’s acting like the third seat in this apartment is occupied by a gnat that won’t go away, both of them grinding on each other’s gears. At first, he’d dismissed it as Nayuta raising a stink due to the shift in household dynamics — however, he hasn't seen Aki this frosty since, well, he and Power were assigned to live with him. If this is a mutual dislike…

Denji brings the edge of his glass to his mouth, avoiding eye contact with both of them. ]

Oh, shut up! I talk to people. Like, I do stuff for them and they gimme money. Or like, with the girl yesterday, she did something for me and I owed her a favor… [ Outside of the bonds he formed with a select few during his brief tenure in Public Safety's care, transactional relationships are what Denji's accustomed to. Which is not the same thing as what Aki wants for him, and he seems to know that, because soon after, he scrambles up: ] And, and, y'know! Just the other day a dude walked up to me claiming he knew me! I didn't but he got me cake, anyway. If he buys me another one, I'll consider being his buddy.

[ Having lost interest in the conversation after having her idea disregarded, Nayuta unhappily cleans the rest of her plate off as Denji speaks. She's got thick skin, but she's still a kid; he can tell she hasn't felt listened to these past few days. And the thought makes him sweat, because it's only a matter of time before she acts out as a result. He'll have to do something to make it up to her later. But for now, he lets her clear off from the table and step out of earshot. ]

Sooo… You two?

[Transactional relationships are definitely not what Aki has in mind, and he looks tired as Denji describes them. He doesn't look too impressed with his cake story, either - confused, more than anything. Someone knew him, but Denji didn't know him? ...Well, it sounds like it was a guy, so maybe Denji just ignored his existence like he seems to do with all men.]

[He wants to push on the mysterious cake gifter, though, as that seems promising, considering it's someone Denji may actually know, but then the devil is storming off and Denji seems concerned about their relationship. Aki has no idea how to respond to that.]

What? [Does Denji think he'd be happy that a devil is living with him? And not just any devil, but that devil?] She's a devil. [As if he didn't befriend his fair share of those by the time of his apparent death. Was partnered with one, even. Saved the life of one, even. But he was different.]

...Find out who the person who bought you a cake was. A whole cake? [What a weird present. Was it Denji's birthday or something? No, that's not right.] You should thank him. A cake isn't cheap. [Who cares about the devil? Denji's lack of a social life is a much more pressing concern for Aki.]

Yeah, but…

[ His mouth opens and closes, briefly, until finally screwing shut. The way Aki says devil makes his skin itch. He wants to tell him that whatever the case may be, she isn't going away, that no one fully human is living here right now, but that doesn't feel like the proper way to address the issue, either. Plus, it's not as if Aki is openly antagonizing her or anything. He's feeding her, even, but still, the current situation doesn't sit right with him.

Man, he's so bad at this — pillow talk and also, probably, just talking in general. That truth becomes all more evident to him as Aki steers the conversation back to the cake guy. ]

Fine. [ To both the matter with Nayuta (a fun topic they can look forward to again later, no doubt) and his bleak social prospects. Tucked beneath his breath, he mutters: ] But it didn't seem like spending money was a big deal to him.

[ He pushes around the last few pieces of food around, not yet finishing them. Abruptly, eyes still fixed on his plate, Denji goes: ] You didn't eat anything. Is it 'cause we didn't have coffee?

[The matter of who is and isn't a human - even moreso, a devil - isn't a topic Aki can even begin to explore. He spent a majority of his time with Denji disregarding him due to his heart. Saw him as a devil first, kid second. Now he's in the same boat, and what does that say about him? Everyone knew him as the guy who hates devils more then he likes to breathe. Now he has the one he spent his whole life chasing down, the one who literally murdered him, keeping him alive. The idea that he could simply change his views after an experience like that... He just can't.]

[Which goes along with why his stomach always feels like it's been through a spin cycle on mornings after he uses Gun. He leans back in his chair and watches Denji push his food around.]

I'll make something later. I wanted to make sure you had breakfast. [And if he didn't make one for Nayuta he'd be yelled at by her, he assumed. Experiences Power taught him.] Come on, finish up so you can get there on time. Don't worry about me.

[Aki is all taken care of. It's Denji who's the mess, in his mind.]

Haaah? Gross! Who the hell said I was worried?

[ As if to drive home just how allergic he is to showing concern for others, Denji hurriedly swings his head back and tilts his plate down his mouth, slurping everything down in one clean slide. Not exactly disproving any of the garbage disposal comparisons. Nothing's going to change with one chat over breakfast, no matter how much he wishes for it. He moves into the kitchen to give the dirty dishes there a quick rinse. ]

I'll get outta here soon. [ Water sprays from the nozzle head. Looks like Nayuta left her stuff unwashed — grabbing a bristly brush, he starts with getting that scrubbed. ] Dunno what you're doing today, but we still have stomach meds in the kitchen. So if you need 'em, just go for it. And, uh, I think my landlady's gonna be by to drop off some veggies and crap. Don't scare her or nothing, she's nice.

[He doesn't worry about him, but he's telling him where his stomach medicine is. Aki doesn't respond to that part, instead turning around to look at him when he mentions his landlady. That answers one thing, he thinks. If he's still living off what Aki gave him, well, he doesn't exactly trust his budgeting. Denji would be running out eventually. It's good that he has the connection, at least. And that he thinks she's nice.]

I won't. [Does he look scary? Aki doesn't ask. He wants to say something about how he should do something for her, for taking care of him, but decides against it. The mystery cake boy seems like enough responsibility for him today.]

...Just make sure you come home, this time. [He pauses.] If not right after, then before it gets dark. I don't want to hunt you down again. Promise me that much.

[He more or less made him promise last night. But he wants to make sure he still remembers.]

I promise. I'm not plannin' on swallowing any needles, got it? So don't try to sneak them into dinner tonight if I'm a lil' late.

[ The dishes go in the rack. He lets the faucet run for a bit to usher the last of the suds down the drain — and with that done and turned off, he calls out to Nayuta to hurry up. She doesn't acknowledge either of them, some ugly key charm she won at gashapon hitting against her bag as she gallops out. Since he didn't get to do it for her this morning, her braid looks asymmetrical, dangling awkwardly off-center from the middle of her back. Once again, he thinks: He really has make things up to her. But for the time being, he busies himself with preparing for his own school day.

Just like yesterday, he keeps finding reasons to hang back and linger at the threshold of the apartment, from giving him directions for where to go to do laundry to what to do if Tiramisu eats from the trash, until finally he's exhausted every excuse. Has no other choice but to simply wave and go on his way, which feels weirdly inadequate for a farewell after last night. What else is he supposed to do though? Not as if anything's really changed. As for why that is, he has two theories…

One, what happened really was a one-off lesson.

Two, neither of them, subconsciously or not, want anything to change. Sticking a dick in his mouth one time doesn't mean he's gonna ever do it again. He's not into dudes, still, and Aki's not into him. This was the obvious and most wanted outcome. Surely.

Denji nearly walks into traffic on the way to school thinking about this.

Not his fault, forgetting to pay attention to the crosswalk system happens to everyone at least a few times in life. One of his classmates — pen girl, he vaguely recognizes — catches his arm just in time. They exchange the usual small talk that happens after something like that occurs. I'm glad you're alright and wow, I really owe you one. Stupidly, Denji can't help but wonder if she's, like, in love with him for a moment, and that maybe they should exchange numbers, because old habits die hard. But then, suddenly, she brings up something about how it's kinda funny how both Denji and his brother owe her now, and if his brother is also in the market to be a chair, he should give her a call. He watches her walk off while holding her phone number.

Besides that, he arrives at school with little issue, and takes to his quest to find the cake guy in great earnest. Well, Aki told him to, so… It'd be a pain in the ass if Denji got home that day with nothing to show for it and Aki just gave him that same inscrutable stare that always wears on his nerves.

He tries his best. Asks around the school, peeks his head into all the other classrooms in his year, even enters the place he hates the most, the faculty room, but quickly chickens out as soon as he sights an actual teacher. No luck. A slippery one, that cake guy. At some point, it occurs to him that he hasn't run into Asa at all, either. That's disappointing — he wanted to ask her what yesterday was all about.

It's as the day ends and he's switching out his shoes at the front entrance that someone appears out of the corner of Denji's eye, a hand raised in greeting. Simultaneously an appropriate distance away, yet somehow much too close.

"Hi Denji, fancy seeing you here."

This is his assigned locker, and Denji tells him that. The guy's smile doesn't waver at that, nor as he listens to Denji natter on about thanking him for the cake and orange juice and ice cream and spaghetti and crumb cah-mel-muhl ("crème caramel custard"), and not even as he reminds Denji what his name is. With a curt nod of his head in the direction of the school gates, Yoshida Hirofumi invites him to walk out together.

"…You're telling me you want to be friends," he concludes, fifteen minutes later. He cups a hand to his mouth as they watch a gaggle of middle schoolers sprint for the bus, like he might laugh, but nothing so much as quivers out of him. If Yoshida's next words weren't already halfway out, Denji would have clarified that, no, he wants another cake, and then maybe, maybe, they can use a label like friends. "Well, I don't mind. But how do you feel about me adding one condition?"

If Aki's still there at the apartment, he should notice Denji lumbering in through the door early today, even before Nayuta. He stifles a yawn with one hand, dropping his bag in the entryway with the other. Kicks off his shoes. ]

'm back.

[The way Denji sticks around in the morning actually has Aki getting nervous. He did it the day before, too. Does he tend to skip? Is he trying to skip, to see if Aki will let him? Obviously he won't, and he misinterprets his hesitation as not wanting to go for school's sake as opposed to anything else. He tells him to get going, multiple times, and reminds him - "At least say thank you."]

[He shouldn't have to worry about him. Denji got eaten by the Eternity Devil and came out alright. Allegedly beat and even killed(?) Makima. He survived Darkness, too. But school is a little different from all of those, he supposes.]

[He expects the day to be quiet, which is good because his head is hurting, stomach still rolling. It happens every time he fully turns his head. Maybe it's the sound that bothers him the most. But regardless, he finally takes Denji up on his offer to use medicine, downing some pain relievers when there's a knock. He knows it by the amount of shadows - feds.]

[It's just a check-up, they tell him, in plain clothes and unarmed. It doesn't go for long, but when he admits to head pains they ask if he used his power and Aki lies, claims he didn't. They leave after taking a blood sample and pass by the landlady on their way out, who now Aki has to explain both his presence and the presence of five very large and formidible looking men to. Well, his Denji's-brother cover still works, especially when she reveals she's been to Hokkaido when he claims that's where he lives and he talk to her about it without having to make anything up. It sells the story a little better, even if he feels guilty for lying twice in one day. She leaves him with a bunch of squash, bell peppers, and a head of cabbage. A weird combination, he thinks. But he can probably make something out of it.]

[All in all, an easy day, he thinks, and is considering going outside to finally enjoy a cigarette when he hears Denji enter. He looks at the clock, clearly surprised. He's in the middle of cutting up an apple for himself.]

Welcome back.

[...It feels weird to say. He was hoping all day to be able to say it, for some reason. Some silly little hope that Denji would actually come home at a normal hour so he could say it to him. Why? The desire for normalcy, he tells himself. Nothing more.]

How did it go? Did you find him?

[For once, it's just the two of them without a devil to worry about. How relaxing.]

[ By some work of a miracle, Denji already has an answer prepared for this question, but it briefly stalls in his throat. It's just as strange to him to hear welcome back, to see Aki completely at rest and at home here, peeling fruit, bronzed by dying sunlight stealing into the room — it's the kind of unexceptional sight he and Powy used to frequently chance upon getting home from an assignment. Admittedly, not as often as he would have liked. Due to the nature of their work, there were nights he'd be getting home late or other way around. Maybe Denji should have done more to help out back then…

…But, nah, that's besides the point.

Clearing his throat, Denji lightly shakes his head at Aki, crouching to rub at Cream Puff's stomach. One or two other dogs say hello to him, but the majority remain stationed in the bedroom. Ingrates. ]

Nope. Maybe he was out sick today or somethin'.

[ He'd usually be making a beeline for the fridge by now, but Denji instead arrives at Aki's side. For one reason and one reason only. ]

Hey, gimme some of that.

[ His mouth opens. Ahhhhh. ]

[Huh. That's a disappointment. Aki doesn't look thrilled at the news, but he can't shame him for it. Not his fault if the kid isn't at school one day.]

[He's curious to ask how the rest of the day went, how Denji has been doing in school, if he's studying properly, but then he's right next to him with his mouth open, waiting. Aki sighs and picks up one of the slices. No bunny cuts - he's just been cutting them into eighths. He drops it into his mouth, right on his tongue. Bullseye.]

When does that devil get back? I thought she would go to the same district as you. [They leave together and he had assumed they would return together. Seems like yesterday wasn't a fluke, and she gets home at a different time.] ...And if you want more, get your own plate. [He knows Denji will eat the whole apple if he leaves it on one.]

[ So stingy. But the lone slice Aki does relinquish goes down the hatch all the same. Denji chews, his eyes wander to the door, as if just speaking about Nayuta will summon her straight away — Power's timing felt like that at times, like she could scent people talking about her (not usually flatteringly) on the wind and come busting in. From what he can see, nothing jangles at the door. ]

Not always, but I pick her up sometimes. [ He stood at their typical meeting spot today for a couple minutes, but didn't see her headed his way. Figured she might have gone on a jaunt to the playground with her classmates. ] She's probably still mad that she hung around for me yesterday and I didn't show. I'll hafta take the dogs on a walk this time if you wanna tag along.

[ Denji eyes the plate. It's plain to see his hand edging against the underside of the table, creeping in to pluck a second slice when Aki isn't looking. ]

[Of course he can see his hand moving to try and steal more. Aki doesn't stop him, though.]

You can walk all of them at once? [Seems like a nightmare. Some of them are even bigger than the kid - two of them could overpower Denji, he thinks.] I forgot she had so many. I only saw her apartment once, years ago.

[...What a weird memory. Aki pauses for a moment, reflecting. All he did was drop her off at her place once or twice, but she invited him up once. He had the nerve to think she was going to invite him in. But all she did was give him some paperwork to bring back to the office for her.]

[She probably did that on purpose, he thinks now.]

Here. [He pushes the whole plate toward him, pulling himself to his feet. He'll just cut up a second one.]

[ …?

Denji's hand rescinds on instinct as Aki departs, as though preemptively dodging a slap to his wrist. It doesn't come. Confusing.

He turns a little, not all the way, just enough to track Aki's movements into the kitchen, watching for any tells of anger or irritation — there was a point in their cohabitation where he could read those cues easily, decide whether he wanted to continue pushing his buttons or go fuck off somewhere, but now it feels like he's relearning what they are. When Denji doesn't sense anything rolling off him, he slowly reaches for a second slice, neck bowing between his shoulders. Sheepish about it. ]

H-Huh, you did? [ He forgets to answer Aki's first question. Likely because he's too busy picturing something filthy between he and Makima. The thought would have outraged him, driven him balls to the wall with petty jealousy before. However, his next words are flatly spoken. ] Did you two…?

[...Of course he takes it like that. Aki doesn't turn around, grabbing a second plate and a second apple.]

No. [Obviously not. He wouldn't have told Denji about it if they had.] She asked me to come up with her and gave me a bunch of documents about and told me to drop it off at the mayor's office. [He sits back down, picking up the knife again.] Like a paperboy.

[He hasn't thought about her much. Not until Denji brought her up did he even remember her. He isn't sure why. Even now, the later periods of knowing her are blurry, complex. He remembers going to see her for help, talking to her about Denji and Power's happiness. But why did he think she would do anything? To think he was so attracted to her when she was a devil.]

Eat that one. [And he starts carving up the second apple, not seeming upset or angry that Denji essentially swiped the first.] ...Are you still caught up on her?

No. [ Denji parrots, sounding as if that should be just as obvious. The messaging gets confused, though, when after reaching over to press a button on the TV controller, the grayscale screen splashing with color, he adds: ] I love her, that's all. [ He says it without inflection, without blame or resentment, the kind of frankness that could be used to describe his favorite color, his most hated school subject. Neutral in its ferocity but not any less true. Apparently loving Makima is distinct from being "caught up" on her.

He glances at the reddened skin of the next apple slice he takes, thinking that it looks the wrong shade. Still plops it whole between his lips. ]

Paperboy doesn't sound like too bad a gig. Must've been fun.

[ He skips through the channels, half-slumped over the table, his chin resting on his forearm. Pauses on a familiar mystery anime, squinting at it, then keeps going. He doesn't look like he's thinking too much about what he's saying, how uneasy and curdled the conversation makes the inside of his stomach feel. ]

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