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

[Don't what? he wants to ask, but obviously doesn't. Don't leave, don't do something stupid, don't do anything. Who knows, in the end. Likely the two of them would say the same thing back and forth to each other. Don't do this. Don't do that. He cleans the dishes without a word while the students get dressed.]

[That they brush their teeth together, staring into the same mirror, isn't something he comments on. But he does stare.]

[Maybe for the same reason he doesn't comment on that, he doesn't respond to the devil's warning. "Nasty smell." It could be anything, from a garbage can left open to a dead cat in the alley by the apartment. If it's a devil - When has that stopped him before? He's stronger than any devil at this point. Unfortunate as it may be, housing the Gun Devil in his heart does come with some perks, and one of them is housing one of humanity's biggest fears right beside his lungs. Once he's pulled some clothes on and brushed his own teeth, Aki pulls on his shoes and pauses over the cell phone they left with him.]

[May as well, he thinks with some annoyance, shoving the phone into his pocket. It feels bulky and unnatural. Like a box of cigarettes. He switches it out, dropping the phone back into his bag and grabbing the cigarettes instead. May as well.]

[It's not like he's expecting to see anyone he knew in the old neighborhood, but he still needs to get out of that tiny apartment. It makes him appreciate the one he did have, in a sad sort of way. It had been so cramped with the three of them, but before that... Before that, it was comfortably lonely. He could have people over (he never did). He could sleep with people (only in hotels). He could come home to silence (aside from the city's noise). He liked it. He liked that neighborhood. Why did he always complain about it to Himeno? Yet whenever he went to her place, he would put his nose up at how expansive it was, how empty it felt. How did she even keep the place clean? And she'd wag her keys at him and sneer, "You pay people for that kinda stuff, Aki."]

[But as he feared, even the streets are different in the old neighborhood. Paved over with new asphalt, new concrete. There's a parade of schoolchildren walking down the road, holding hands, an adult reminding them to look both ways before they cross, a chorus of Yes, ma'am. He watches the strange display as the chain of human children crosses the street, one in front of the other, nearly sideways as they keep a grasp on each other. One of them looks his way and gives him the typical wide-eyed look of a child. One that says, Jesus, am I gonna look like that in twenty years?]

[The apartment is gone. Which makes sense. He's pretty sure he blew it up. No one ever told him for sure, but when he woke up, he was laying in rubble, and that rubble did feel sort of familiar. Smelled kind of like his detergent.]

["Lost in the view?" asks a familiar voice behind him, and he turns in surpise. His handler. Leaning on the hood of his car. He didn't even hear him pull up. The emergency lights are flashing, signaling it's a brief stop. "Come on. We're going back."]

What? [A burst of - something in his chest. Panic? No. Despair? No.] Why? You said -

["Yeah, well, situations have changed." He waves his hand in a gesture that Aki can't really read. "What's my motto? If you can't plan for it..."]

"Avoid it," [Aki finishes, grimacing at how well he knows it. But what is he avoiding this time? Another devil attack Aki could get involved with? Did he decide in the past 24 hours that he no longer trusts him?] What changed? Is something happening in -

["Aki, you know me by now. I only know what I know. People don't like to tell me jack shit." He stands up off his car and motions for him. "You're not changing my mind on this one. Orders from the top. Let's get going."]

[His stomach turns. No, he thinks - no. No, he wants to say good bye to Denji. No, he needs to fix this situation first. He doesn't care what the orders are, he wants to make sure Denji will be alright. But there's no arguing, he knows - but can't he leave a note? His thoughts are rushing, nerves tight. He can't just swipe him up like this and leave a bag of his dirty clothes at his apartment for Denji to worry over, right? What the hell is happening, that suddenly changed his tune? He knows he's lying, he knows he must know whatever it is. If it's such a big deal that he hunted him down like this. How did he even hunt him down? He exhales slowly, turning to face him. He can at least give him this. Give him some time. Give him this one request.]

Let me say good bye.

[The handler smiles. It creases his eyes, crow's feet sprouting from the edges and dimples cutting deep into his otherwise unblemished face. No scars, no burns. Nothing. It's always unnerved him. "Aki, you know... They told me you were Makima's old dog, but you're stubborn as a mule."]

[Run, his mind orders him, but there's nowhere to go. All the handler does is snap his finger and Aki sees his reflection in the silver-framed mirror before it spins and forces him through the glass. He stumbles - like he always does - and by the time he rights himself, he realizes it. He's on his bed. Shoes dirtying the sheets, stepped apart as if he's running. He turns his head and sees the wall. The mirror he broke, the pieces long removed but the frame still there.]

[Unlike the cells in Tokyo's Public Safety bureau, located underground and echoing the sounds of all sorts of devils, Aki has long learned that no one down here can hear him screaming. Or, at least, no one cares. Except for Gun, who rolls around in laughter like it's his favorite rakugo set.]

[ Away from their apartment, her backpack straps skid off her shoulders as she dashes, so fast she may have to double-check whether a pair of wings have sprouted from her back heels later — that'd be mega-cool.

But, no, focus, Nayuta!

Cackling, one of the straps switches from her arm to her hands as she whirls her bag round and round in a vicious twister, closing in on Denji's position, his back so tall and insurmountable even when he's walking with a hunch. Denji has more than enough time to dodge, to hear her incoming; like him, she's rarely ever one for subtlety. During her last field day, her supervising teachers all had to warn her classmates to avoid obstructing her path from one event to the next, because everywhere she went, it was like she was charging on horseback, dead-set on some new conquest. It was after that, Denji had to sit in on a conference with her homeroom teacher and the principal. At that time, they introduced the description "problem child with an extreme personality" to him.

But instead of avoiding her obvious attack, he tosses her a glance before looking forward again. Takes the hard whack to his ass with an unhappy grunt, his strides knocked slightly off-course, yet not completely tripping him up. ]

And a new challenger steps into the riiing! In one corner, Poopy Sweat Devil! Booooooo! Give this loser a bath!! [ Spinning on her heel, she lands to Denji's right, not a hitch to her commentator's affect as they keep walking. Before that homeless Half-Gun started sleeping in their living room, she and Denji were really into professional wrestling. They used to imitate the wrestlers' entrances whenever they entered a room the other was already in. ] In the opposite corner…

[ Rubbing at his sore backside, Denji tries to cut through the bit she's performing to tell her off. "Quit that, Nayuta. What're you doin' — " ]

It's the best, the undefeatable, the most impossible to kill devil butt-kicker of all time — Chainsaw Man! Raaaaah!!

[ Her hand hovers over her mouth, mimicking the uproarious cheers of an audience. She knows Denji has to be loving this part, eating this whole thing up. Except when she next looks at him, he's just staring at her, wearing an expression she can't make sense of. It's the kind she always sees that other hybrid make at Denji during those times they look at each other, sharing some unspoken correspondence when they think she's unaware.

At the drop of a hat, the gleam of her smile vanishes like a star blotted out by the sun. She's spent these past few days loudly frustrated with him, but not now. She's no less dissatisfied with his usual wishy-washy conduct, of course, but that feeling's quieter this time, bordering on a kind of ennui. A restlessness that tickles at a deeper sense of restraint and distance from the life Denji's shown her. Perhaps it's time to try her hand at a different approach. ]

…There are other people who can do whatever he does for you, you know. [ Not letting the dust settle on those words, she turns and points out into the distance. Farther past this scenery they watch every day, this normal street with humans. Wearing their suits, navigating the same maze they've grown accustomed to, hoping to turn into a corner that may just reward them with a slice of cheese. Aware that something could happen in an instant — a car accident, a devil attack, a hand to tear through the sky and pluck them from all they know. Whatever it is, it could change the very trajectory of their day, maybe even their lives. And yet they still walk their path.

She's learned a lot of human behavior by going to school and living among them, but mostly just in her time with Denji. Human life isn't admirable; it's exhausting. It's tiring. To live among them is to condemn herself not just to their ways, but to their ends. What Nayuta's looking at, what she wants and what she wishes for, exists far beyond just this street. ]

There's a really bad devil in town. Ten whole busses full of people will probably die out there, but out of the ten or so people you could shove outta trouble, at least five of them have the chance of becoming your fan for life. And, maybe, two out of those five people could be girls, and one of them could wanna hold your hand and eat eggs for breakfast with you for the rest of your life.

[ It sounds boring to her, honestly. But, still, despite her own thoughts on the matter, she tilts her head to gaze at Denji. Her way has room for what he could want, too. It always will, because he's Denji, and she needs him the same way he needs her. ] That'd be something, wouldn't it?

[ Denji's staring down the street with her. She can't tell what's on his mind, but she pushes her hand through the fingers curled at his side and starts to tug him toward the other direction. That's all he needs: a tug in the right direction.

But then, he's tugging her back.

"I…" He squeezes her hand, tight enough that she feel sweat building between their palm lines. "C'mon, Nayuta. We're gonna be late for class. We don't got time to play Chainsaw Man today." ]

What the heck?! Do you seriously care about that guy more than me —

[ Nayuta wrenches back from him, just to frantically reach for Denji again, because if it weren't for him to steady her, she'd be fully floating upward toward the sky. Slapping her other hand around Denji's wrist for extra anchorage, she arches a look toward her feet and — nope, no flapping wings, no balloon tied around her ankle. That can only mean —

The fight with the Falling Devil was a thrilling one.

Against his original hopes, Denji does yank at that short tail hidden under his shirt, does become who Nayuta wants him to be, his saws zipping unsheathed from his flesh. They don't have the chance to talk — once she'd realized what was going on, Nayuta calmed herself long enough to flee to a better vantage point to observe the battle. Not necessarily a safe one, but what was important was that she be able to watch Denji duke it out with Falling, cross paths with some bumbling girl wearing his school's uniform. She faintly recognized her scent, this time not just remembering her as that one cat-stink woman, but as something else. Something like smelt ore and razed ground, the tread of smoking rubber and sulfurous ambition. War. Her sister. An interesting detail, but not one she lingered on.

After that, there were doors and motorcycles and explosions! It was like watching a movie in real-time. Instead of having to buy tickets, and wait through the previews, and go through all the trouble of following the usual structures and tropes of a story, she could just live through it like this — through Denji, not just some random male lead she would have to force herself to care about.

That's why Chainsaw Man's adventures are so wonderful. She can experience the whole gamut of humanity without lifting a finger.

But, of course, as soon as the battle started to encroach on lunchtime, it'd been just a matter of suggestion to save Denji from that ugly devil's stomach and insert herself into the equation. Her other sister, Famine, was present in the aftermath — it was a bad enough omen to have two of the horsemen there, but three? She curiously questioned the girl's motives, and only came away with the knowledge that pizza and Chinese takeout would be in jeopardy in the near future. Oh, and something about an age of devils. Certain foods going instinct sucks, but it wasn't really her problem or her business. She turned away from her and her proposition to work together.

The moment she sent a chain tugging at the consciousness of some adult-sized man that managed to escape the ruin, thinking she could use him to help pick up Denji's tattered body, a vehicle appeared. Actually, an entire fleet of vehicles appeared, circling her at all sides. From them, a gush of trained personnel fitted in tactical gear streamed out, pushing the muzzles of their assault rifles directly into her face. With her hands raised in shock and a scratchy bag suddenly draped over her head, darkening her vision, she was left with no choice but to comply to being captured. She wasn't even sure by whom.

…Until someone yanks the bag from her head off and pushes her staggering inside a cell. Her knees scrape into the ground, hands barely thrown in front of her in time catch her fall. Hissing in pain, she reorients herself, tugging her knee up to look at the scuff, which is no worse than the type of injuries that occur at a playground, before snapping a glare toward the cell door.

It isn't long before the sound of shifting from the back end of the room steals her attention. Still sitting, she jerks around, scrabbles to put space between herself and — wait, that smell. ]

Denji…?

[ No, that's not right. Denji should be smelling like iron and fluids right about now, since he was just in a fight. So that leaves — ]

Half-Gun. What're you doing here?

[He's never been good at telling time down here. There was a clock in here at one point, hanging on the wall over the door, but at some point it felt as torturous as the mirror. A constant reminder of the passing days, of time moving and himself sitting still. Other people living their lives. Other people suffering because of what he took from them. And it also ticked too fucking loud.]

[So he doesn't have a great idea of how long he's been down here, but he did just return from dinner and is stretching his body when the door bangs open, a kid is thrown in with a bag yanked off her head. Aki startles and starts to call out, demand what's going on, but - but then he looks at the kid. And realizes it's not a kid.]

[He doesn't even have the space to be upset. He's too surprised, shock clear across his face, even as Gun almost seems to be groaning in his gut, like randomly seeing the kid who used to bully you at the grocery store when you're with your mom and now you have to be nice in front of her but she keeps smirking at you, knowing you're gonna get it twice as bad tomorrow. ...How does he even know an emotion like that, Aki wonders, but doesn't focus on.]

What are you doing here?

[Because what a question to ask when she gets tossed right into his own personal suite. She must have done something awful to wind up here, but what? And why would they drop her on him?]

What did you do? And - where is Denji?

[ Someone's just run off with what's hers. Of course the fairness of the question weighs on her about as much as an ant right now. ]

I didn't do squat!

[ She doesn't appreciate the open accusation that she did something to land herself and Denji in trouble somehow. …Though it's not too far off from the truth. They were most likely apprehended because of their clash with that Primal, and the sheer amount of destruction that played a role in taking her down. That's the only conclusion she could draw sitting blindfolded in their armored van, nobody deigning to answer her questions, and Nayuta too outnumbered to force them to. Even if she'd tried to overtake the humans in that vehicle, there were vans driving ahead and behind her, full of their allies and ready to drill any amount of bullet holes into her head as needed. There's no way she would have gotten away unscathed. ]

They… Your Public Safety buddies Denji-napped him. And after he went through the pain in the butt of saving this place again.

[ True vitriol grips her voice, not for Public Safety, really, but this place. The city known as Tokyo. Sure, the location's a great, expansive stage for Chainsaw Man to perform his heroics, but they could do that anywhere, somewhere that isn't so crowded with construction fumes, with the rotten musk of malaise and complacency lurking around every street corner. Isn't teeming with humans who can pass by the very worst of themselves everyday without a single care.

Giving her wounded knee one last blow, doing it the way Denji always does for her after she gets into a scuffle with her classmates, Nayuta pushes herself back to her feet. Back straight, all 146 centimeters of her staring Aki in the eyes. ]

Seriously, what're you doing here? Why haven't you broken out of this place yet? Is the Half-Gun really not as mighty as the whole one?

[They Denji-napped...? Aki's brows crease in worry - She can't be serious, right? Kidnap him for what?]

[But then she's telling him to break out of this place and Aki's lips draw into a thin line as he stands up staight. Stares down at her with distaste. Yeah, she would think it's so easy, wouldn't she?]

I'm not doing anything like that. [And besides... He pats his chest.] This is only twenty percent of the Gun Devil, you know. [Give or take. He's eaten about two chunks, on top of what was sent from America.] So quit calling me that. Whatever they picked you up for, you probably deserved it. You were making him play at being that Chainsaw Man thing again, weren't you? I'm not helping you in breaking out.

[ So a person dumber than Denji actually exists…

Nayuta's eye twitches at the breath he wastes on what, in her perspective, is a useless clarification. He's eighty percent human and twenty percent devil. So what? Does he want her to be hyper-specific with her insults now? When there are other more urgent matters at hand? ]

Oh, gimme a break.

[ Her hands ball into her skirt to keep from shaking with more anger than she ever thought fathomable. ]

I always knew you didn't care about Denji as much as you pretended to. You're just another person who was using him, like the rest of them. That's why you're not getting it — this isn't about me! This is about finding out where they took Denji.

[So she's serious about this. They really did take Denji somewhere. Aki stares down at her, her little hands bunched in her skirt, glaring up at him. He wants to doubt her, wants to think she's lying. But...]

[But then, why did they pick Aki up? No one will tell him anything about what situation changed, why their allowance to let him stay with a civillian changed in less than 24 hours. Did they want to use him to get to Denji? But then why wouldn't they have grabbed him right when they saw him the day before?]

[He doesn't get it. But this devil being here... Aki being taken... It seems, at least, like they could have been stripping away anyone Denji could have used to defend himself with.]

[But.]

I can't just - break out.

[But he knows his situation is precarious. Knows he can't mess around with the people who have deigned to keep him alive, even if it's as much for their benefit as it is his.]

...Besides, the door out of this area is locked. They only open it when an officer comes in. [The "bedroom," itself, is open, since he has access to a restroom and a very small kitchenette down the hall, but the actual door that leaves the cell area is locked tight. He only tried opening it once and they asked him not to touch it after that. And was also told...] It's bulletproof. I can't shoot through it. Why do you think I haven't let before?

[As if a physical inability is the only reason.]

[ Approaching the handleless door, a hand comes to rest upon its cold, enforced skin, as if to measure the truth of Aki's words. Not that a mere touch could, but she trusts herself more than him right now. There's a small slot in the door, currently closed and bolted shut, that she can't tell the use for — maybe to pass trays of food to Aki? Or to talk and taunt him through? Her hand slides away when she turns to look back at him, perfectly serious in her delivery of: ] I thought it was because they had you trained too well.

[ She moves deeper into the room, headed toward the grubby-looking bed, possibly for a place to sit — but when she nears enough to smell how infested it is with Gun's scent, she pauses to pulls a face. Then, simply drops down to sit on the floor beside it. Because apparently sitting on crumbs of dirt and lint is preferable for her. ]

So when do those officers make their rounds, then? [ She rubs at an elbow, trying to work the soreness out. Nayuta's thinking of this in terms of how, in fantasy anime, prisoners are constantly guarded in shifts. This is the same, right? ] Why not ambush them? Catch them off-guard and go bam, bam, bam straight in the face.

[ …Or is Public Safety less predictable in how they operate? Really, she doesn't know what being held captive is supposed to be like. When Old Kishibe found her in some remote village in China, she was living with some poor auntie sort who she'd controlled into letting her eat what stale bread loaves she had off her table and sleep in a mattress stiff with straw. He'd knelt by her side and given her hard candy, explained that she could go someplace where bread tasted softer, fresh. After which, he moved fast in arranging her car to the airport, then a plane across the sea, and then a meeting at a park with lots of doggies to play with. He never forced her into a cell, nor an interrogation room, nor a laboratory. Old Kishibe is probably her most favorite human she's ever met. ]

Or if you don't wanna 'splode their brains, you can lemme take a crack at pinning one of those guys with my chains.

[The assumption that he was simply trained well enough not to break out... isn't exactly wrong. He could probably get out of here on his own. But then what? What would he do? Before this, he thought everyone he knew was dead. Power, Denji, Angel... All the people from before, too - and who knows how many others, with the death toll Gun had? What was he going to do with a Gun for a heart? Live a normal life?]

[But he only glowers down at her for the observation, a look that turns darker when she suggests killing the guards. His response is immediate, before she can say what she adds.]

I'm not killing any humans.

[He watches her approach the bed and give up on it, then sit on the floor. He starts to offer her the chair at the desk but decides against it, leaning on the wall across from her. She suggests using her own power, but Aki doesn't jump at the idea.]

And then what? How are you going to leave from here?

[He barely knows his own way around.]

You'd have to know where you think Denji is, if he's even here - You saw them grab him for sure? [He still doubts her, maybe as expected. Even if he got to know devils a lot more over the span of the year before, he still inherently distrusts them. And this one - ...Maybe some of Gun's hatred is blooming into his thoughts, too, but probably only a tiny amount. Not too much. He can think for himself.] But what happens when other guards see you? Or someone who knows you're not supposed to be somewhere? How many people can you control at once?

[Makima, it had to be dozens. Hundreds, maybe. But this brat?]

You couldn't even hit me with a chain.

[ Beat. ]

Three. What's your point?

[ Her chin picks up, annoyed, rather than bearing any sort of shame or embarrassment. That's how many people she can simultaneously command. A while ago, it used to be just one — she can always train up. If they team up like she keeps telling him they should, they might still stand a chance knocking these goons off their feet like bowling pins and sweeping on out of here without missing her favorite late-night cartoon. ]

Maybe I couldn't beat twenty percent of Gun a few days ago, but… but that was a few days ago! And I was going easy on you by only shooting one that time —

[ Lies, she underestimated him. Underestimated how much Denji cared, too. Anyway, not the point. She waves a hand, as if all his inquiries are flies buzzing around her face, distracting her from her priorities. ]

I didn't see it happen, but I could hear them dragging his and that girl's bodies into one of the cars. Besides, I don't think that takoyaki-smelling boy would just let Denji off easy. [ Not after their talk that night. She hadn't been able to get in close enough to hear details, but she didn't need to scent his distress to see that vacant look in his eyes he always gets when his brain is totally fried. ] If I could just get outside, I'd be able track him down. I can always find Denji, no matter what.

[ … ]

She was like that, too, wasn't she? That Makima?

[Him and "that girl." Takoyaki-smelling boy. Would this brat describe people normally? First it was the cat-stink woman and now this shit.]

[But naturally that's one of her only useful features, too. If they really did take Denji (and he has a bad feeling they did, given how worked up this devil is) then his only surefire way to find him is with her nose. Aki pinches between his brows, trying to think, trying to picture a way out of here... Then scoffs when she says that about Makima.]

[As if she's anything like her. Lacking any of her power, her charisma, her charm. Her ability. A child who can swing some chains around but can't manipulate them like she could. Like a little kid putting on her mother's heels. It's charming, but mostly, it's annoying. Because she isn't allowed in that closet.]

You're not even two percent of her.

[He turns his head to look at the door. Stares down at the knob. He knows there's a camera in here, but he knows it can't record sound. Or maybe they muted it at some point. Either way, they never seem to care if he's mumbling about hurting himself, but they'll intervene if he starts to actually do something.]

I can make a scene, and then you can control the guard. Have them lead us outside and make them tell anyone who questions what's going on that we got into a fight, we're being separated. That should let us get into the main corridors and near the other devil cells.

[He turns his gaze back to her, brow low.]

But you have to listen to me. Do exactly as I say. Got it?

[ Staring boredly at her purpling knees, Nayuta doesn't look up as he plots out his plan — which, she's not stupid, of course she gets it. He'll play decoy, she'll nick two guards at once to really sell the separation story. If the devil cells are a dead end, they'll pick a point to reconvene somewhere. It's child's play. But she stubbornly makes no indication to him that she understands, her mind straying.

Makima… She'd merely hoped to leverage the comparison between her and that woman to coax out some more of his cooperation, make him easier to work with — Denji blabbed to her once that impressing the head hunter of the Tokyo division was a big deal for those in his department before she made a fool out of all of them (not his words) — but it seems to have worked against her. Made it even more obvious how far apart that person and the current Nayuta are. Though it's not as if she cares to be her carbon copy. She died, so that means she failed in whatever she was trying to accomplish. Whatever it was she was looking for.

Nayuta's not like that. But she has always wondered… ]

To you, what was 100% of her like?

[ Because she doubts even Half-Gun, himself, understood that two percent. Otherwise, he wouldn't be here. None of them would be. ]

When Denji talks about her, he always sounds… strange. Like he misses her.

[ She knows that between Gun and her, Denji would choose her, every single time. The same answer can't be said between Nayuta and her presuccessor. Nayuta and Makima. ]

What did she do to make you humans so happy?

[100% of Makima... It's hard to even remember with how much he locked her out of his mind. Or maybe, how much she locked herself out of his mind.]

She...

[He has an answer but it's so shallow. So embarrassing. Denji fell for it and he fell for it. Even if they were manipulated, they were still willing participants in the end. He went right to her and sat patiently in the boiling water. He can't succinctly explain what it is about her that made people so happy. It was never just her looks, her personality, her character. It was so much deeper. Something flowing through her blood, coating her bones, stitching her muscles. Makima...]

She made you feel special.

[He sounds ashamed to admit it. Like he grabbed too many pieces of candy from a bowl. Greedy to accept that feeling.]

She didn't use her power to control people. She could do that with only her words.

[That day is so foggy. All he really remembers is going to the beach. Getting off the bus and walking down the steps to the sand. Her in that black dress, waving at them.]

She was a monster in human skin - And Denji, he still loved her despite that.

[Maybe he'll never fully comprehend that, but he does understand it. Even with all she did, can he truly be upset with her when she gave him so much?]

[ Hearing about Makima secondhand is always like this, like listening to a distant story, a lost ancestry whose dubious relations to her feel as clouded as the highest mountain peak. Maybe given a few years of growing up, she could feel something for her, like sympathy. Kinship. But right now, she's still trying to figure it out. This woman-devil who blistered her feet on a barren path among humans before Nayuta even knew how to put enough strength in her legs to walk straight. Who was then deified and committed to mythology, as if in doing so, the people who thought they knew something of her could tourniquet their own bleeding memory.

No one ever speaks of Makima like someone pitiful. She killed a lot of people. Won all her battles, except one. But every time she learns something new about her, she can't keep this welling sense at bay. That that's what the the previous Control Devil was — pitiful. Makima walked her path, but Nayuta's not sure she ever ran down it with someone's hand in tow, feeling the the speckle of sunlight dabbing her face.

Then, the topic of the conversation turns to another pitiful person: Denji. She scoffs, and yet her expression softens at the same time, like a wave crashing at the outer edges of a tall castle — collapsing its might, revealing it was made from sand all along. ]

He's like that with everyone.

[ Even Half-Gun, he should have his reasons for despising. At least from what she knows. Denji's so troublesome that way… ]

But you… You're different. Do you hate Makima?

[ Though her eyes are half-hidden behind her fringe, one shift of her head has them peeking out from behind the dark tresses. A primordial amber. ]

You said it yourself. I'm not her. But your pal doesn't look like it can tell the difference. [ For a rare moment, she seems to have acknowledged Gun as a separate entity from Aki. She also seems to acknowledge that she's been able to do this the entire time. ] If I'm doing what you tell me to, I don't wanna have to watch my back.

Edited 2024-06-29 02:29 (UTC)

[So even she can tell how much Gun loathes her. It's annoying, but maybe he can use that to his benefit. If she's worried about Gun and his feelings about her, then maybe she'll reconsider antagonizing him.]

[Not that she has yet. Still calling him "Half-Gun" and ordering him around. She really doesn't get it. Thinking he might hate the woman who caused his death... If only it were that simple.]

I spent the greater part of my life trying to kill the thing that's keeping me alive right now.

[He still hasn't fully accepted that. He's not sure if he ever will.]

I was mocked and ridiculed for my goal, but Makima - she pushed me forward. It was thanks to her I'm in this exact situation.

[Yes, he wanted to pull out. Yes, he wanted to give up. Yes, he didn't care as much about Gun in the end, recognized he wanted to give Denji and Power something else with what limited time he had. But is there any timeline where he wouldn't bite at the chance to be part of Gun's downfall, as small of a drop his presence made in the tidal wave that took him down? He doesn't know. That's something he still can't swallow. That maybe Makima knew better for him, that maybe he shouldn't have tried to get away. That she knew what he really wanted, and it wasn't a selfless desire for those two to live happy lives. No, he wanted to be part of that battle. Surely she knew that better than he did.]

[At some point, maybe he believed that. Then decried it. Then knew it. Then disagreed. Then stopped thinking about it at all.]

[Aki sighs.]

...Look. Gun is weak in this form. The worst he can do is give me indigestion. [A white lie doesn't hurt here.] I don't plan on killing you, because Denji would probably kill me right after. So don't worry about that.

I might have to rough you up to make this plan, work, though, but just play along. [He's never punched a child in the face but this is a devil so it's fine.]

[ Makima doesn't even exist as a stain drying in someone's carpet or a broken nail clipped between the floorboards. Yet that shadow of hers, the one that's phased in and out of her life — in and out of this conversation, and every other one before and after —

It's impressive. It's ridiculous. In death, she has a man thanking her for setting his life on fire. Although… if he'd really been planning to face Gun, a legless apparition documented as capable of crossing oceans, whose entire chest cavity, according to the boring textbook readings her teacher assigns her, is welted with the faces of thousands of silently screaming mouths — as a miserable, measly human? He probably hadn't needed that much help. ]

…No wonder you look so constipated all the time.

[ That's her uncomfortable reply. Before, Nayuta'd avoided sitting on his furniture as if it carried mites and fleas, but she discreetly digs her back into the bed corner now. Trying to seem brave, tough, in that way kids do when they don't want an adult to look down on them. She has no idea he's lying, and with how often she and Denji wrestle around, she isn't exactly bracing herself for whatever performance they have to put on for the guards. She's tense because she has a better idea of what he is: not Half-Gun, nor Aki Hayakawa, but a remnant of Makima's work. Her influence.

And with that around Denji…

Forget it, she'll think about that later. ]

Well, I guess you would rather be alive and kicking than killed dead by Denji a second time. That'd be embarrassing for you, [ she mumbles, reassuring herself. He may not like her, may not have the same loyalty to her as the previous Control, but there's no current gain to getting rid of her. That's good. Louder, with an air of confidence: ] Whatever that'll get us out of here, I'll deal with. Just don't go overboard or I'll make you eat your own poop.

[ What's a harmless threat between reluctant allies? ]

You said something about getting to the main corridor and devil cells before — what's your plan for after that?

[Eat his... Ugh. Being said right after she reminds him that Denji has more or less killed him once before delivers such a strange one-two punch that he wants to wince but won't allow himself to show any form of weakness in front of such an annoying kid.]

I'm not going to knock you out. It'll be just like sparring.

[If he thinks of it that way, it's easy to hit a child. Also, he reminds himself, she's not actually a child. Just a devil in the guise of one. But his plan for after they get to the main corridor, well...]

We'll be relying on your sense of smell. [Not that he loves the idea of relying on her at all, but their goal is the same right now, so she has no reason to screw him over.] Once we find him, it depends on a lot of factors what we do next. If he's awake or not, and how heavy the security around him is.

[It's still hard to wrap his mind around the idea that Denji might be here, that they would have taken him. She made it sound like some sort of big thing happened out there, that Denji was involved in... Are they finally sick of letting him run around without a leash on? But then why did they take Aki back here so suddenly? ]

[His stomach bubbles unhappily. Maybe because the plan is pacifist in nature. Too bad, he wants to tell him - Even if she's a devil, Aki has no plans of splattering a child.]

Now, stand up and yell at me like I just told you something you didn't like.

[ Would a strict government agency like Public Safety really keep Chainsaw Man so nearby, just within finding distance if high-risk devils like Gun and Control decided to, oh, who knows, take a stroll? Go AWOL? No, it can't be that easy.

…But they did just allow all three of them to room together for a week. So maybe it is? Humans are so weird and brainless, she has no idea how the previous Control worked with and under them. It'd drive Nayuta nuts. Taking a note out from her brother's book, she blusters past the wave of concerns that surface to shore, opting to do what she knows best. Cause trouble. On her feet, she sizes him up — the hybrid of two scents. Gun and Aki.

Worth a shot. Hopefully, not one through her own noggin. ]

Well, that's easy! I've got plenty of experience.

[ Up goes her finger, steadying in the air. Her thumb flicks open with it: a fake gun. She's practiced this before, but she's never managed to really pop her invisible ammo where she wanted it to. Maybe she needs a better trigger to concentrate her energy…

Whatever, they're just playing. It shouldn't matter. ]

Boo! You suck!

[ The wall shakes from where something unseeable smacks into it, the strength of a tennis ball swatted by a racket into a net. ]

You're a homeless loser who's mooching off a high school student! I hope every one last of your hairs falls off when you shower! Pre-bald baldy! Get a real job!

[Nayuta raises her hand in the form of a gun and for a moment Aki thinks he's being pranked, that she's making fun of him. Typical, and as she goes on to boo at him and tell him that he sucks, he thinks she might truly be worse than Power at this whole thing.]

[But then the wall behind him shakes, shivers with a weak thunk of something invisible to his eyes, yet he can sense it, that something happened there. He doesn't get it, but that doesn't matter. It never did. Because it's never about understanding what's going on, when his body acts to protect the host. It's always about defense. Defend and strike first.]

[She's speaking but he's not listening. His body lurches in an instant, movement quick yet harried. He pulls back instead of rushing forward like he said he would, fists not closing up in any attempt to even pretend to punch her or knock her around. Sparring, he'd said, but it's not sparring when there's a real threat at play. This devil is a threat. She's dangerous and crafty and killed him, she killed him before. This devil killed him. His teeth are bared, grunts pulling from his gut, arm staggering to raise up as it folds into the metal of a rifle. His sights trained on her. The pistol that's pulled over his face holds better sights than any human eyes. He grunts and staggers as he spits out the name he hates. Hates. He hates this devil, more than any other.]

Con... trol - !

[It's not his own voice, some mimic of it produced by the human's throat, but it's close enough. She threatened him. She tried to take him down again. He needs to eliminate her for sure this time.]

[A klaxon begins ringing in the room, shrieking a warning that can barely be understood over the loud buzz. Gun staggers under the sound, shaking his head quickly. Eventually guards will be here, ready to sedate. For now, however, he tries to raise his arm back up, aim at the devil standing across from him.]

[ So the two-headed chimera finally shows its second face. But this cage of theirs isn't a coliseum, and there's no fleet-footed gladiator present to put him in his place. Just a kid with a shaky trigger finger.

No matter her attempts to steel her expression, apprehension firmly nails itself to every stiff muscle down her spine. The point of her finger jitters all over, but she latches a hand down to her wrist, steadying her aim as another unseeable round releases toward the hybrid to try and bowl him over. At the same time, she flies out from the path of Gun's rifle, pain smarting at her hip when she crashes into the corner of a desk. Not that the effort means much. If it's not Gun's precision that takes her out, it'll be the blast radius. There's a reason they teach about it in her history textbooks. She can tell she's miscalculated even before her hearing tremors with the ongoing shock wave of the security alarms. The metamorphosis. That disembodied call of her true name. It'd been like watching a hunting dog's pupils dilate when an instinct older than it can remember kicks in. This wasn't what they agreed on.

Did he realize this would happen?

Doesn't matter right now, she decides in the same instant the question appears. Her nose picks up multiple incoming odors flooding the outer hallways. They'll be there in seconds; Nayuta doesn't have that long. ]

Worst he can do is give you indigestion, huh?!

[ The door's hinges screech just in time for their arriving guards to watch all three of her chains snake out. Their bellies rattle to the floor, then whip fast across Gun's neck, ] You! [ Arms, ] Big fat! [ And torso from intersecting angles — it'd be a waste of energy to control him in this state with so many witnesses to turn their sights on her as the primary target instead. But if she can at least throw off the trajectory of his aim, that'll be enough to keep herself out of harm's way. For the time being. ] Liar!

[He's on a long, dirt road powdered with snow. Tall pine trees line either side and cast the path in shadow.]

[It's so chilly. With a frown, he rubs at his arms as he continues on the path, cognizant of how cold he is. His fingers are pinching with pain and sensitivity and he presses them into his armpits but even there he can't warm up. It's so annoying. Passing under the trees, there's no warmth from the sun to alleviate his discomfort and all he can think to himself is, Wish there was somewhere warm to go...]

[The thought only crystalizes for a moment before a gust of wind blows and dislodges a heavy layer of snow from the trees, the pile falling directly on top of him and drenching him in ice. Aki yelps out and struggles under the mass of it, groaning.]

Some mess this is - !

[As the men go flying over Gun, piling down on him with their bodies, the devil staggers are struggles under the sudden weight, his arm going out to the side to search for something to hold himself up with, some way to tear them off. Their arms and bodies settle around him and he can hear Control yelling something at him, something he can't parse under the sound of the klaxon, but when he's finally able to pull his head back and fire, the bullets spray up - all the way up, shattering the ceiling and drilling countless holes into the cement until all that's left is one larger hole. Plumbing and pipes spill water down below and Gun pulls himself from the bodies, grunting and growling as limbs continue to obstruct him.]

[Cold.]

[He feels cold. Needs to find warmth. Blood and bits of rubble fall from his shoulders as his eyes search for the devil. He needs to find warmth, but he needs to kill Control, too.]

[ While the humans keep Gun occupied, swarming and crawling over him like maggots attracted to a corpse, Nayuta's chains snap back into her body. She's about to edge out the doorway, but then someone's got their fist tangled in her hair, and she's yelping, feet kicking out as she's hefted by her stinging scalp and thrown into the hallway. Her knees break the fall, burning from how quickly they skid across the ground. Seriously, she's getting sick of this treatment.

Rubbing at her head, she glares up to see a woman smiling down at her. She's young, unimposing, and wearing their uniform; out of place among the others, yet not at all. Seemingly disinterested in throwing herself into the fray.

It's too early to tell whether these are red flags.

The same hunter who had forced Nayuta out orders the woman to take her away to a new cell, and her head drops in feigned disappointment. An exaggerated sigh parting from her lips as she says something to the effect of being sad she can't be there to watch them beat Gun into submission. Someone cracks a joke back at her that Nayuta can't make out because, suddenly, there's a gush of water pouring out from the room, wetting the scrapes on her knees. As Nayuta scrambles to get back to her feet, the woman gives a little two-fingered salute to her coworker, and then casually snatches up the young devil's wrists, holding them above her head as she binds her into a pair of handcuffs. She nudges her along, but it feels more joking than commanding.

"Personally, little missy? In a fight between you and him, my bets were on you," she laughs. Walks side-by-side with Nayuta. Red flag or not, more important to Nayuta is that she looks easy enough to tether under her sway later. ]

…Thanks.

[ It's as they start walking that another one of her chains nicks the back of a rushing guard who stills awkwardly, then hurries forward to volunteer to take Gun to a new cell once he's disarmed. Seeing as his current one's unusable.

At this point, she probably doesn't terribly need Aki Hayakawa's assistance breaking out of this complex. He knows the lay of the land better than she does, but the way he is now… She and Denji are better off as a family of two. She stands by that.

But regardless, it's better for her to stay abreast of his whereabouts, rather than get taken off-guard. ]

[Aki wipes the snow off his head, trying to get it off his shirt and shoulders as he stumbles out of the pile. His face feels even colder now, a heavier shiver running through him, and he suddenly remembers - hold on! They were doing something important just now. What was it? Hide and seek? Something like that... Hide and seek sounds kinda childish, but it sounds like what he wanted to do. And who was the hider right now...?]

Oh, Denji!

[That's right, of course! The memories continue leaking back in. Nayuta, that dummy, she said Denji was doing the hiding. They're supposed to be trying to find him. She wants the game to end, too - but Aki wants to win, wants to find him first and laugh when Nayuta comes rushing in, stamping her feet in frustration at the two of them already together. Hands clasped. Warm. That's right, that's where it's warm.]

Denji! Don't come out yet, I'll find you!

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