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

[ …If only it could always be this easy to close his eyes, feel the sink of someone else's fingers wetting into his roots. Although it's not as if his scalp is being fully massaged, it's still nice, and so sufficient in its niceness that it pulls a weighty breath of relief out from his chest. The nozzle spray overtakes the sound, but Aki probably could have observed the movement from sight alone: the hike of Denji's broad shoulders, the slow descent.

Then he hears the slap of Aki's feet against the ceramic tiling. One eye opens. ]

Hm? Is that bad? [ Private school student…? That's a funny thought. Kishibe hadn't even bothered listing one of those as an option for him to enroll in. He raises a hand above his opened eye to shield it from any vagrant suds. ] Or do you like it?

[ … ]

Well, you look like… [ He trails off, watching him up the side of his arm, unable to think of a timely retort. Aki doesn't look like he belongs in a school at all, really, either as a student or a faculty member. It's easier to imagine him more as a regular salaryman, like the all the ones he sees on the train reading the paper or barely managing to stay awake until their next stop. But that's a pretty boring response. So he tells him instead: ] You look like the kinda teach that'd have fun punishing his students. Making 'em stand in the hallway and hold their arms in the air.

[He probably dislikes it. Definitely doesn't like it. But it's because it isn't Denji. He's never seen him with his hair combed out, straightened and slick with effort. So seeing him now with it is amusing. But Aki doesn't say any of that, instead considering the teacher comment.]

In my high school we used buckets. [It felt very cliche. Like something from a manga or drama. But he assumes Denji is speaking from experience, here.] How often do you have to do that? Maybe I'll suggest they switch. [He says it so neutrally it honestly sounds like he might send Denji to school with a letter about it. But no - he never found the practice to do much of anything but get a noisy kid out of the room for a bit.]

[Once he sprays the suds out of Denji's hair, he works his body clean next before spraying him off, too. His mouth opens as he starts to tell him to sit up so he can clean him out, but... then remembers he didn't actually come inside him. It just honestly felt like he did, with how into it he got.]

[So he puts the shower head back on the wall and motions at him to get to the tub.] Go soak. I'll clean off.

[ Denji's been thrashed from one end of the city to the next, boiled alive in the stomach acids of devils before — and yet somehow the idea of being forced to hold buckets of water at Aki's request is what has him shirking back and off the stool. Sometimes he'll get bored and stop paying attention, or sometimes there will be dudes annoying the hell out off him. But he never does anything that bad in class. Frequently, it's the adults who give him a hard time, drawing conclusions about his behavioral issues based on the fact that he doesn't have any parents, doesn't have any proper guidance, doesn't have goals to steer him anywhere but to some dead-end job… Yeah, no way would he last a single day in some place like a private school if he can barely slum it in public education.

But he doesn't want to make that Aki's problem. ]

No! Don't be a jerkface…

[ He shoots a quick glare at Aki, then moves to sit on the edge of the tub, wiggling his fingers in the water to test its temperature. Still warm it feels like. Briefly, he looks back at Aki again, considering offering to help him since he's still one-handed, and since Denji still feels like he owes him, but he's been dismissed every time he's tried so far tonight. He's… not really sure how to conduct himself around Aki now that they've had intercourse, if there's a right or a wrong way to act. ]

So like, uh, are we just gonna hit the sack after this?

[Aki looks over his shoulder at him at the question, his own expression questioning. Not insulting or judgmental - he looks truly curious, if not a bit fatigued.]

As opposed to what?

[Does he have anything else planned...? It's late, of course he's going to send Denji to bed when they're both cleaned up. He turns back around to continue scrubbing himself down.]

I told you - This kind of thing doesn't have to be a big deal.

[He reaches to pick up the shower head and begins to spray himself down, still keeping his gaze forward. It doesn't have to be a big deal, nor does it have to mean anything. Denji should learn that.]

And I was serious. You still have to go to class tomorrow.

[ Oh… Yeah, that's right. Not a big deal. Denji throws his legs into the tub, then flumps in all at once, water spilling out over the brim in rivulets. He isn't looking Aki's way anymore, training his. ]

No, I just meant — like, I wasn't sure if that was the usual order of stuff.

[ You have sex, you talk, you bathe… Most of the time, in the tapes he watches, the actors in there will go at it for hours on end, but maybe they actually took breaks in-between and he didn't realize it. Or maybe it was special effects, CGI or something — that stuff's gotten more popular in action movies, so maybe porn, too. Chin tilting downward, he blows bubbles into the surface level of the water.

After some thinking, he speaks up again. ]

Can I sleep with you at least? Usually, Nayuta's there when I go to bed so it's weird if there's no one else.

[ Like none of this is a big deal, it's not a big deal if Aki refuses, either, he tells himself. He could always drag Meowy in there against her will. ]

[The order to things... Aki isn't sure what else he wants. He doesn't respond as Denji settles himself in the tub, pushing his hair back and out of his face. Did he still want to talk? Was there something he didn't say that he wanted to? Did he actually want to go again? Did the feeling not last as long as he expected?]

[Then Denji mentions him sleeping with him, and it clicks.]

Are you a kid? [It comes out a little tired, kind of amused in the same way you are when a cat falls off the counter. He squeezes out his hair and begins to spray down the floor.] Yeah. It's fine. [He can pretend to believe him, that he slept beside Power for so long and now he's beside that kid. It's been years since Aki regularly slept beside anyone. The last time... was probably when they went to Hokkaido.]

[He stretches his arms before grabbing a towel, wrapping it around his waist. Despite scolding Denji to get in the tub, he isn't bothering with it, himself. He might fall asleep if he did.]

Come on. I'll tuck you in. [Just light teasing, said in a neutral tone.]

Ah, shove it!

[ The embarrassing part is that even in the face of his teasing, Denji can't refute him, can't contain the way his eyes brighten, renewed excitement fizzling into the syllables of his response. That's exactly what he wants: to be tucked in, to be close to someone just a little while longer.

Cheeks coloring from more than the steam getting to his head, he nicks a nearby towel of his own, letting it flop over his wet hair, and thereby hiding how pleased the expression on his face is, as he gingerly steps out. Denji's dripping all over the place, but he's careful as he moves to fit the tub cover into place. Aki's already making fun of him, he doesn't need to give him another reason to by falling on his ass. ]

You — go get changed. I'll replace the sheets.

[ As if to directly disprove the allegation that he's a kid, Denji straightens, chest puffing as he sets off for the bedroom, flicking the light off as he passes. Transparent posturing. A silly contrast compared to how timidly he'd requested to share the bed with Aki moments before. ]

[Look at him, being all high and mighty about changing the sheets. He'll have to teach him about the magic of putting down a towel before sex.]

[Aki spends a minute or two drying off, pulling on some pants and an undershirt. When he returns to the bedroom, he either helps Denji continue with the sheet changing, or backs off and waits for him to finish if he gets shooed. Once the bed is ready though, he lays down, turning onto his side and raising the covers for Denji to crawl under.]

[As his hand raises the sheets, however, a flash of deja vu hits him. A feeling that he's done this exact motion before, that his body has moved like this in the past. It takes him a moment to place it.]

...I used to have to do this with my younger brother.

[Funny, how that works out. He waits for Denji to crawl in before setting the sheets down over him.]

You're not quite as needy, though. [A low bar to pass, but still.]

[ Tidy wouldn't be the correct description for his bedroom right now, but it's at least cleared of their clothes. The dirty bedding's been exchanged for an older, scratchier-looking cover — didn't seem like Aki cared one way or another as he watched him change it, so Denji tried not to look sheepish about it. Once he's switched the light off, tossed on a fresher shirt and shorts, Denji climbs in, helping himself to the leftover room. Most of the time, he finds himself sleeping right on the outer fringes, if not completely off it, as Nayuta and dogs take up the majority of the futon; without them there, it's a little more spacious.

It's nice, in a way. It just being the two of them.

Though Denji doesn't do anything like wrap his arms around him or nuzzle his face into his chest from the onset, like he did earlier after they'd finished, he's embarrassingly pondering it just as Aki brings up the memory of his brother. ]

Uhhh, really? [ he says, in spite of himself, betraying his own self-doubt. He feels needy, out of sorts compared to how he usually functions around Aki, something he'd chalked off to having his first time with him. So, y'know, it’s a nice thing to hear as his head hits the pillow. That he isn’t behaving any more abnormal than usual.

That aside, it's not often that Denji hears about Aki's family. He's mentioned his name in passing, probably, and he remembers for sure seeing the lettering for it when they visited his family's grave. Not that he could try reading it, sounding it out in his head, before Power started stuffing rotten fruits into her mouth. If they ever get a chance to go again, he thinks that he'll make sure to memorize it.

Anyway, assuming this is Aki's way of giving him permission to ask, he turns over on his stomach, side of his face pressed into his folded arms on the pillow, so that he can still look at him. ]

What was it like? He just sneak in at night or something?

[Aki settles onto his back when Denji climbs in, settling a hand on his stomach. He didn't really intend to talk about it, but... Now he can't really not do so without making it weird.]

No. He was clingy. [Denji is less obvious with his clinginess to the point that Aki wouldn't describe him with the word. He's more used to rejection and deals with people being annoyed with him with more dignity. But he's also not, like, 10 years old, so that makes sense.]

...He was sick a lot. He had a bad constitution. Usually he slept with our parents on bad nights, but towards the end of a bout, he'd want to sleep next to me. [Specifically, that's what he remembered. When he would complain and whine that he wanted to sleep next to Aki because he was feeling better.] But his body was so warm, I'd feel like I was in a sauna.

[Sometimes he still thinks of those nights when he wakes up beside someone. The strange feeling of someone else's warmth in his bed. He never really got used to it.]

[With Denji facing him on his side, however, he raises his other arm up, silently offering his side. He doesn't know if that's what he wants, but Denji isn't his little brother. So it's not the same as waking up burning from the physicality of someone else's fever.]

[ Without any real feeling to it, a thought comes to him: The kid must've loved him, Denji thinks of Aki's brother who he can't remember the name of. But that feels like a shitty thing to say for some reason — and if not shitty, then an empty thing. Obvious. So he doesn't say a word about that. ]

Eh, that'd be kinda nice to have during the winter, right? Would keep your hands warm. [ Nayuta gets like that sometimes. Not so much clingy as she is expectant from all the times Denji has reached to her for a hug in the middle of the night. ] Stuffy when it's humid, though…

[ The ending notes of his response trail quietly off as Aki raises his arm, and Denji doesn't pause to debate whether he should or shouldn't accept the offer. He's there in half a blink, shamelessly, as if he'd been hoping for this cue the moment he slipped in. Knowing him, he probably has.

Snug up against Aki, his face disappears inside the crook of his arm, a content mmm sound rumbling from his chest, the way it does when someone takes a first bite out of something they could have seconds, thirds, fourths of. For a second, Denji's arm squeezes across his midsection. ]

If I get too warm, you can use one of the ice packs or something to cool off. [ Seeing as they were going unused, he returned them to the freezer earlier. But they can always retrieve them again. ] Just don't kick me outta bed! I'll get mad.

[Naturally he crawls in close right away, but all Aki does is make a slight huffing sound when Denji is against him in the blink of an eye. He lowers his arm once he's situated, settling it around him.]

Ice packs... [No, he'd probably kick Denji out of the bed before he did that. But then Denji seems to know exactly what he was thinking and refuses to give him the option. Funny how that works.]

It's fine. You're not that hot.

[He turns his head into him, cheek against hair, eyes closed as he feels his breath against his undershirt. Very funny how it works. How he used to think about getting to experience human contact like this again. Waking up holding someone in his arms. Their weight on his body. How he hoped he would die before he ever saw anyone who might ever recognize him. That he would fade away as a government secret. A victim of the Gun and nothing more. But now, here he is, Denji against his body, both of them tired and damp from sex and a bath. A normal life. At least, maybe, for them.]

[Denji doesn't get kicked out. He wakes up a few times and adjusts to look down at him, turning on his side, waiting to see that he's asleep. Then slotting against him, tugging him close, making sure he won't think he's kicked out. No, he couldn't kick him out. Couldn't let him slide out, either. He knows this feeling of clinginess, one he just complained about, but here he is, reveling in it in the middle of the night and relaxing into it like an old friend. He was never this sort of person, before he got close. The loneliness fiend never could have hurt him. Now he wonders when it might come back from hell and be his most dangerous foe.]

[The sun wakes him up and Aki finally lets go of him, turning back onto his back and staring tiredly at the ceiling. The devil will probably be back here... Aki pulls himself up and looks at Denji. Seeing if he needs to wake him up or if the cold spot left beside him will do the job. If the former, he gets a shake to his shoulder. Weak but constant.]

[ Much like the nights prior, Denji tries to hold out for as long as he can before sleep takes possession of him. As always, there's a nagging presence in the back of his mind that's still not all the way convinced that he doesn’t have one foot in reality, the other sluiced in a long, drawn out dream — that dream being the warm inhale and exhale stirring the topmost hairs on his head, so close and so real it makes him question his own senses. Kinda like holding a seashell to your ear, thinking what you're hearing is authentic to the ocean's warbles, but it's really just one silvery echo of it. A mirage, an illusion.

The truth of the matter is that he could live with that type of thing, an echo. Could he do the same if it ever went quiet, ever left him for good?

That's just another question he doesn't know the answer to. Doesn't want to.

As the hours pass, Denji’s grip on him does steadily slacken, maybe with the trust that Aki wouldn't forcibly disentangle himself or knock him sideways for getting too cozy. But he never lets go, not fully, as if subconsciously aware that doing so would be tantamount to letting the axis of his very small world go off-center. Come sunrise and birdsong, his arms are still around his waist, mouth permanently yawned open as his gnarled snores disrupt what would otherwise be a beatific morning.

…The shaking at his shoulder, though, draws out a half-conscious mumble, a wrinkling to his brow. He doesn't swat at it, not yet lucid enough to register irritation at having his slumber cut short. Inch by inch, his eyes creak open, but as soon as light filters through his lashes, it's like he realizes the immediacy of his mistake, and he squeezes them back closed. But it's too late. ]

Akiii… Why… [ Rolling over, Denji smothers his face into Aki's hip to block out and groans, the sound not that far off from somebody sobbing. He'd kick his feet if he weren't afraid of Aki scolding him for acting like a kid again.

Eventually, his whines subside long enough for him to pitifully mumble into the hem of his shirt: ] I wanna kiss.

[He's such a brat. Aki turns to look out the small window letting in sunlight. It's still early enough that the room doesn't feel like it's baking, but he still feels warm. Probably from last night, he realizes. Denji clung to him all night long. Not that he didn't essentially do the same.]

You're so annoying.

[A muttered, half-hearted complaint. Aki sighs and pushes at Denji to get off from around him, prying at his hands in order to force him onto his back. Once he has him there, he leans down onto an elbow over him and meets his lips briefly, a chaste kiss if nothing else, but then thinks better of it (realizes Denji will complain that it didn't count) and kisses him again, this one longer and with more connection, lingering before finally pulling back and staring down at him from a few inches above.]

Alright? [And he begins to pull up fully, ready to stretch his arms and begin the day.]

[ Denji cranes his neck out, grin widening into the tilt of his lips, enjoying the lightness. How easy it feels to ask for something and have it be reciprocated, no matter how begrudgingly. So this is normal, too? he considers saying, when Aki breaks away, but doesn't, instead snaking one of his hands out from where they'd been tucked away. In a flitting movement, his fingers trawl the side of Aki's face, like he might haul him back down — except, with a huff of laughter, Denji changes his mind at the very last second and pinches painlessly at his cheek, pulling, so that he makes an extra dumb expression.

Fine. He'll be satisfied with this. ]

…Yeah. Yeah, alright.

[ Whether Aki punishes him with a smack to his hand or to his face, Denji sustains the lively skip in his gait for the entirety of the morning, as evidenced by: insisting that they brush and floss at the same time, forgetting that because Aki isn't Nayuta's size, any jerky movements will basically lead to the two of them jabbing each others' sides; imposing his rendition on breakfast without letting Aki do a thing to assist before Nayuta arrives; and, in his excitement at trying to make stir-fry bok choy for the first time, nearly spilling boiling sauce all over their slippers (and the floor).

Nothing seems to bring him down, though, despite every little mishap that occurs. Being normal feels great! Having sex feels great, too, even if his ass hurts! Yeah!

Nayuta joins them about partway through the table being set, her usual convoy of canines right there with her as she pushes herself inside. A reusable bag of peaches and plums imparted to her by the granny hang from her arm. Denji glances over his shoulder, puts the last the plate down, and motions with a wave of his hand for her to hurry up, set her things down —

"Something smells," she says, mildly.

His mouth twitches. From Nayuta, an observation like that could mean anything. ]

Yeah, well, that's the food. Smells bad but it tastes way better than it reeks! Tell 'er, Aki.

[Denji is so... energetic today. He seems so positive. Not that he wasn't especially positive before, but it's like there's an extra skip in his step. He follows along with his yankings and beggings and brushes his teeth with him, setting Denji in front of himself the first time he elbows him so he won't do it again, then keeps a close eye on his work in the kitchen, nearly getting boiling sauce all over his arms with how he jolts them out to grab him before he can ruin the two of them at once. It's too much energy for the morning, he scolds him. Calm down a little. Take it slow.]

[And then all the dogs and the devil are back. For a moment, Aki honestly forgot she was here. Not fully, but she'd been so perfectly put out of his mind that her reappearance is like an aftertaste he wasn't expecting. Her note about the smell reminds him also why devils are so annoying - they can smell anything. From fear to semen. He'll hope she's just smelling his own disdain for her or maybe it really is the food. Nothing that will require him to have a conversation on what sex is at 7 in the morning.]

Some of the best food smells the worst.

[Like durian. Durian is pretty good, and it smells like skunk. He sits down and waits for Denji to plate the table. He seems so keen on doing things on his own today, only using Aki for backup with the devil, apparently. Although...]

He's already made me sick with his food once. [But it was likely more Power's doing.] So let him take the first bite.

[ While Aki and Denji's voices occupy the conversation, she passes them both by to plunk the bags of fruit on the counter space, not casting a glance toward the bedroom where most of the dirty laundry is shoved. Her backpack clipped and uniform buttoned, it doesn't look like Nayuta has any reason to go scoping out the room, so they're probably safe from, er, her drawing whatever off-color conclusions a kid her age might. She's just there to eat and drag Denji off, apparently. ]

Guh, don't tell her that, asshole — listen, it's just a vegetable! [ A just about even portioning of sesame-garnished greens slides out from the pan, sliding on each plate with a splat of cooking juices. ] I can't mess up a vegetable! Nayuta, tell 'em!

[ "One time," Nayuta begins to recount, sounding too thoughtful as she takes her place at the table. The kind of thoughtful that can only mean she's about to make a joke out of him. "He tried to learn how to pickle veggies for us! But he used the wrong kind of salt and left it out for too long, and it came out all bitter and yucky and we both had to stay home from school 'cause of tummy runs — " ]

— okay, stop, stop! I'll take the first bite, you critics!

[ Nudging away a full clove of garlic he'd forgotten to dice, Denji picks up one of the bok choy bulbs. Holds it up to his nose for a sniff and, yeah, it stinks a little like fish… But that's only because he added fish paste to it for an extra kick. Although it's not an orthodox addition to stir-fry, he's pretty sure it should taste fine. Better than fine, even, with all the other sauces and seasonings he added.

He sneaks a glance up at the two of them, and something about their mirrored expressions, how clearly waned of any high expectations they are, preempts a scoffs from Denji. He chomps down. ]

Ow. [ His jaw pops as he slowly chews around the stem of the vegetable. It doesn't actually hurt to bite into, but it's obvious the vegetable hasn't softened enough. Probably because he didn't blanch the bok choy before tossing it all into the pan. ]

…I mean, ooohhhh, it's so good! It tastes great! Just like food!

[Denji fucked up pickles? Aki stares at him with the most dour look imaginable, like he just bit down on a too-salty pickled vegetable, himself. He looks down at the meal he's created, then back at him to watch him try the first bite. And he says "ow." About a bok choy. A bok choy that he boiled and fried. He somehow managed to make even that too firm...?]

[He can't help it - he laughs. Aki laughs a quiet but constant sound, raising his hand to cover his mouth out of embarrassment for both himself and Denji. It's been so fucking long since anything like this has happened, he forgot it was a normal part of living with him. A normal part of existing beside Denji. Watching him do this stupid shit. Making a shitty breakfast and then acting like it's soooo good and begging for Aki to try. He picks up his chopsticks to try it, himself.]

...It's so salty. [What the hell did he use, extra sodium soy sauce and a whole container of salt? Aki coughs as he reaches to wash it down with water.] I'm getting both of you children's cookbooks - You can't live like this. [But even saying that, he just sounds so amused. He hasn't laughed this much in ages, and even then he's barely laughing, just smiling. Stupid Denji.]

[ If he really can't live like this, why is it suddenly so natural to imagine every morning playing out this way? As though Aki's laughter is a corrective lens helping him see a future that lives beyond sleep, breakfast, school, lunch, walking the dogs, dinner — and, yes, the daily tedium of being Chainsaw Man. It's weird knowing that it's only been a couple days, yet… maybe he really could give it up for good. For this. Denji doesn't even realize how sore his cheeks are, straining from the sheer width of his own smile, until Nayuta's nudging his knee, her brows raised. He looks down. ]

Says you. [ Casually reaching for his glass of water, he tips it over his plate, pouring at least a third of its contents into his greens. As if diluting it will salvage the circus show he's eating. ] I think I could make it work.

[ Using his chopsticks, he folds another strip of bok choy over and in, swiping it through the water and sauce mixture. He doesn't even brother chewing this second bite, just swallows it down the hatch. With some difficulty. His tongue sticks out, like he's on the brink of gagging. Bleh. ]

…D-Doesn't the body need salt, anyway? I swear they taught us that at school!

[ "A regular human only needs a little over one gram, dumb-dumb," Nayuta says, following in Denji's example and continuing to eat from her plate. Making a face with each taste. Two peas in a demented pod. "But that doesn't really matter for any of us sitting here." ]

[They can't eat it like this... There's just no way. Aki shakes his head and reaches out to grab the three dishes, scooping away Denji's before he can make a worse mess of it with his water-sauce mixture. It needs to cook off most of the sauce and a rinse will get rid of the salt... He thinks he can salvage this.]

[But his hand falters when Nayuta makes that last comment - it doesn't matter for any of them what a typical human needs. Hell, it doesn't even matter that they're eating too much salt right now. But he pushes right past it for the moment. Won't think about it. He brings the vegetables up to the counter and finds a cutting board, getting ready to chop it into something smaller once he rinses it.]

It doesn't matter if it doesn't matter. [He turns the burner back on, adding oil to the pan. Not looking at either of them.] You shouldn't have to eat bad food. Denji, come here.

[And he shows him how to salvage it - how to rinse it, flattening the leaves and cutting straight down the center to split the stem so it cooks faster, letting it fry in oil before adding sauce for a minute or so, then the importance of taste testing. Which he lets him do once it's cooked for a bit longer.]

[It's more bland than salty, but still - it also crunches well this time instead of being too wilted or too thick. With rice from the cooker and a bit of pickled ginger, he thinks it'll make a passable breakfast.]

[ Denji promptly tails him into the kitchen; he usually goes where he's called, but that isn't the case here — he'd intended to remind him that his hand is still bandaged, that he doesn't have to do this. But Aki's already set to work revitalizing their meal, brooking no room for argument, so with an exasperated sigh, he parks his hip against the counter. One arm crossed while the other's raised so that he can pick his teeth. He mentally notes down the primary points of the lesson, and how can't he when Aki makes it easy to? Really has this thing nailed down to a science, for why he minces the bok choy stalks the way he does, the fry time, and going slow enough for him to follow along. Aki always seems to move with intention but that never comes across more clearer than when he's cooking. ]

Sheesh, you make it look so easy.

[ His grubby fingers dart out to thieve a strand of ginger from the top. Before Aki can lay into him, he hauls his ass and a few of what's been replated off to the table, setting them back in their previous arrangement. ]

Why don't you write your own book, huh? Chef Hayakawa. Or better yet, when Nayuta becomes super successful, she can hire you on as her personal chef! Then we'd never have to eat bad food.

[The hand injury doesn't feel like anything he hasn't dealt with before. In fact, he's probably been bitten by Denji before. He certainly got it from Power and Angel probably would have had it not spelled death. Devils love to bite. But when Denji makes that comment about working for Nayuta, Aki's response and tone has its own kind of bite to it.]

I would never work for a devil.

["You literally did," his mind reminds him, "for like three years." But he pointedly ignores that. He has no intention of ever working for - ]

[And then Nayuta fires back, "You're working for one now, with that smelly devil inside you," and the flash of violent rage on Aki's face is enough to nearly burn the whole meal. He looks at her like he's about to shoot her head clean off, even opening his mouth to say something or maybe do something - but he forces himself to stop. Lowers his eyes and sits back down and doesn't say another word.]

[No one else is nearly as blunt about his status. So Aki doesn't think about it. Being in this household does nothing but force himself to consider it all.]

[ Denji's eyes bulge, chopsticks mid-raised to snatch a leaf up. Shit. This is territory even he's been careful to dance around with Aki, to not broach too far, poke too hard. He's never been good at stuff like that, but he's been trying so damn hard… Meanwhile, Nayuta's words are akin to throwing sticks and rocks at a pacing animal barred within a cramped kennel.

The leaf drops back to his plate. At first, he taps the tips of his chopsticks against his plate, unsure whether the conversation is serious enough to forego eating altogether, and when he decides that, yes, it is, he lays them down flat with a groan. With a clap of his hands — ]

Alright, alright, time out.

[ Though his mouth is curved into a nervous smile, the look he pins her is sharp. Questioning. What's with her? Of course, he didn't expect them to magically bond over steamed fish last night, but admittedly, he'd hoped that it was going to be as good a first step as any to a truce. She doesn't look up from her plate, so he does what he can to school his chiding into sternness. ]

Nayuta. That was a sucky thing to say when he's been makin' ya stuff to eat. You gotta apologize… Or at least give him more of what's on your plate — that's how the crappy attitude tax works!

[ "Huh? I'm not apologizing."

There's an airiness, a familiar sway smoking its way into her voice and sniping through his defenses with the cold conviction of a pointed finger. A whisper of a bang. If he listens closely, he can nearly hear her serpentine chains hissing out from the burrows of her stomach. He's never thought of her as an extension of Makima, but the way she stares, as if she isn't quite seeing him, really takes him back.

"That devil's smell is everywhere — on these cushions, in our room, on you. Don't forget that you're supposed to be mine, Denji." A hint of her age returns to her expression, Nayuta's upper lip raising, showing her teeth, in disgruntlement. "You're not even fighting justice anymore because that's what he told you to! Is that really what you want?" ]

[The anger continues to boil inside of him. He had been trying to be nicer to the devil. Tried to think about the other devils he managed to get along with. Understood the "humanity" of them. And sure - if he ignored the way she made his stomach roll and his heart pump like mad, he can see what Denji means about her being a normal kid. 92 percent, at that. But then she brings up these things and it's so, so much easier to look at her and see devil. A target to eliminate. Nothing more. The rolling and agony of Gun in his heart at her mere presence doesn't help that. He really doesn't like her, and it bleeds into Aki's own natural dislike and distrust of devils. Even after all he's been through, it's a natural reaction. And hearing the way she talks about Denji... It just makes it all worse.]

He isn't yours.

[That, for some reason, is the first thing that he wants to make clear. And he intends on continuing from there, but it's that statement that seems to make her angriest. Which, maybe Aki should have expected, given how he's seen the two interact. But in this situation, with his tone, and with their relationship as it is - it comes off as more than a simple statement. He isn't yours - He's mine.]

["Thief!" she shouts at him, and Aki recognizes he needs to move, now. He has no idea what the hell she can do and he isn't keen on finding out, immediately pushing out of the way of the table and raising his voice to call out to the only person he knows who can apparently control Control - ] Denji!

[ His name hasn't made it halfway out of his mouth when Denji throws himself on his back, knee driving into the base of the table, the uncontained force sending the wooden fixture shooting up onto its haunches and acting as a protecting barrier from the chain missiling directly for Aki. Dishes, drinking glasses, newly hydrated bok choy — everything rockets into the air for one trainwreck of a moment, until, bidden by gravity, summarily crashing to their feet in a swash of shattering ceramics, splashing water, and bits of food. That'll be fun to clean up later.

The upended table clatters onto its flip side shortly afterward, no longer an obstruction. Sensing that, once the two of them recover from the initial surprise, the scales of this little skirmish will be tipping away from her favor, Nayuta's expression tightens as she summons a second chain to join the first. It seems she's aware enough of how Denji operates in a fight to know he'll be headed her way soon — and she's right, having trusted the momentum of the strike to roll him back to his feet, he springs for her. But if she manages to ensnare Aki, she'll at least retain some bargaining power in making Denji behave the way she's used to…

That's why she skids back into the kitchen to create more distance as both her chains surge for Aki at opposing directions. ]

Keep dodging! [ Comes Denji's yell as he nabs something from the floor.

At Makima's prime, she was able to bring forth a whole array of tethers and control them with all the practiced ease of a maestro lifting their wand to signal an orchestra. Nayuta, though, is younger and untutored; her strategy isn't unsound, but its lacking in finesse and coordination. In other words, there are holes a seasoned hunter like Aki can exploit if he wants to. ]

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject