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

Rrrrgghhhh…!

[ Elbows balanced heavily against the table's edge, Denji drags the heels of his palms down his face, the puffy skin around his under eyes stretching out as he tries to squash his mounting fatigue.

He doesn't understand, and frustratingly, infuriatingly, because he doesn't understand, he knows he can't sit here and talk shit about whatever Aki does or doesn't do. They only knew each other for a year, maybe even less — that period pales in comparison to however much time Aki's committed his life to purging devils, to protecting others, now add the time they've been apart to that and, well, this is a losing battle. Normally, that wouldn't stop Denji; heroes like Chainsaw Man can withstand all sorts of torture and demeaning to save the day in the name of justice and sweeping pretty girls off their feet.

But Aki doesn't know Chainsaw Man that way. He only knows Denji, and Denji loses all the time. He's not sure if he can live with always hearing the siren call of Aki somewhere mountains and oceans away in his ears, but he might have to. ]

Fuck, whatever! Fine. [ Shoving off from the table with enough force to cause Aki's glass to wobble, Denji stands from where they're seated. His glare matches Aki's at full tilt, his sharpened teeth bared for a split second — then, something in his eyes wavers, but he turns away completely before whatever it is can be identified. ] I'll just shuddup.

[ An I don't care anymore almost makes it out of him toward the end there, but it'd be so transparently untrue, none of his cobbled pride would be able to recover from being seen through. ]

I gotta sleep, anyway. Got pancakes to make tomorrow and stuff. I'll get the other futon out, so just wait here.

[Aki opens his mouth to tell him not to curse, but shuts it. It doesn't feel right anymore. He doesn't feel like he has that right. He knows that Denji won't be convinced by the idea of the greater good, because how can you convince someone like Denji of that? The one who hurled a car at a devil despite a man still being inside yet saved the life of an office lady. His morals simply don't align. Aki has known this.]

[He looks up when Denji says he'll get another futon, about to tell him not to worry, a sort of shame for imposing... But then he hears what he said before on delay and pauses. Pancakes. Really? Not exactly the healthiest thing.]

I'll make you breakfast. [It's sort of payment. But the truth is, he hasn't cooked anything in months. Usually he's delivered food or goes to a government-run cafeteria with bad food that's usually cold when he arrives. The idea of fresh food is kind of exciting.] Does she eat normal food? [The kid, whose room he nods his head back towards. Sure, devils can eat breakfast, but will she throw it off the table like certain other ones he's had the pleasure of rooming with? ...But he doesn't say her name. That wound still feels a little raw.]

[ They keep the extra futon in the bedroom closet, so Aki's offer catches Denji just as he's pulling the sliding door open. He stops in time to avoid letting too much light enter, in case it wakes Nayuta. Denji's mouth purses, his lower lip jutting out in that way it does when he's about to say yes, despite not wanting to. After all, this is awkward for him. Less than second ago, he'd been on the verge of throwing a tantrum at him. Ah, the capriciousness of youth.

He likes Aki's food, though… Who knows when they'll next do something so ordinary with one another? And it is the least the guy can do, if he's just gonna high-tail it outta town sooner or later. ]

…Well, if you want. Her standards aren't super high or anything. [ The bar kinda has to sit firmly on the ground to be able to enjoy Denji's work in the kitchen, which, surprisingly, Nayuta frequently does. There's a reason the two of them were able to subsist on plain toast for that first week of living together. ] As long as it's something she can toss a couple bites to the dogs, she'll like it. Oh, but she'll get mad if you skimp on the sweets.

[ For a moment, it looks like Denji might tack something else on, like a meal request of his own, but he just leaves it at that. Scratches his head and nudges the bedroom door even more open to make enough space for him to squeeze inside. A quick sweep of the room tells him that Nayuta's still peacefully resting, her splayed out form hardly decipherable from the hairy mounds barricading her as he passes by.

When Denji reappears, on one shoulder is the promised rolled up futon, and on the other shoulder hangs a wrinkled t-shirt. He tosses the latter at Aki — unfurled, it says "Chainsaw Man" in bold stylized font. It smells clean, but whether it actually is… That's a mystery. Once the table is repositioned, Denji lets the futon flop out on the ground like a dead fish. No blanket because they don't actually have enough of those. ]

There, go wild.

Edited 2023-07-22 22:10 (UTC)

[To the dogs... Don't they eat their own food? Aki doesn't question it out loud but he does help to move the furniture aside, flashing a glance at the board game seeming abandoned in the corner and the pieces scattered. Such a mess. He takes the shirt when it's offered and stares at it for a moment, brow tight, before deciding it just must be some kind of fashion label and Denji liked it because of the word chainsaw being in it. He's still not fully with him on the whole superhero thing.]

[He doesn't ask for a blanket, either, just saying his thanks and sounding like he means it. Doesn't ask what time Denji has to be at school tomorrow, because he doesn't want to be too bossy, too... something. He just says good night to him and begins to tug off his shirt. The scar that he got from Kobeni what feels like forever ago is completely gone.]

[It's hard to sleep. He keeps sitting up and staring at the door. He thinks about what Angel said a lot. He could just run away. Move somewhere quiet, live a normal life. Ha, ha. Every time he remembers he had laughed at him with no emotion. No actual humor. Ha, ha, ha.]

[When he does wake up, he knows it's still early thanks to the glow of the clock on the TV. It's aggravating him, this space. It's so small and so cluttered. He finally gets up and rolls the futon into a neat pile and stares at the two plants. When he checks the soil for the wilted one, he finds it drenched. Typical.]

[It's hard to really be quiet when you clean but Aki can't sit still in here. There are too many things in this home without there being nearly enough. He washes the glass of water and dries it and finds out where it lives. Puts away the board game and finds the shelf it lives on, which is dusty. So he gets a wet rag and wipes it down. The TV, too. By the time it's six, he's trying to get a weird stain out of the door of the fridge when he hears the bedroom door slide open. The dogs come out first - all the hair he just swept up, he thinks, then watches the kid come out after them. Looking around the apartment like she just woke up somewhere new.]

[She demands her pancakes but Aki tells her he's making something else. He sees the spark of argument in her eyes that he recognizes from Power and cuts her off before she can - that has she ever had Korean pancakes. No, she hasn't. Aki tells her they're just as good as the pancakes Denji makes, which she assures him aren't actually that good. Figures.]

[Eventually he's digging through Denji's fridge in an attempt at finding something, anything to combine into a healthy breakfast. There's no fish so that's out. There's some powdered miso soup so he can make that, but in his head he's making a list. Not enough greens, not enough healthy protein. He chops up what vegetables he can find and fries them into a patty with flour and oil and an egg and then makes a sweet sauce for them to dip in. All told, it's not the kind of breakfast he would make - fried vegetable patty, miso soup, rice, and the sauce - but he'll have to see if he can go to the store for him before he leaves. Maybe write out some recipes for him. Too much to do.]

[The dogs are whining at him, not keen on fried vegetables. He does his best to ignore them. The kid seems to be keeping an eye on him more than anything.]

[He doesn't realize it until he reaches up to push it away - he put his hair up. A force of habit he didn't realize he still had.]

[ On the other side of the door, Denji sleeps just fine. Originally, he toyed with the idea of staying up all night to steal a peek outside every so often, to reaffirm someone, not empty air, was laying there — but as soon as his head struck his pillow, there was simply no going back.

He dreams that night, the sort of dream that simultaneously feels like it might branch from a memory, and yet not at all, once the inconsistencies are tallied. At one point, he's trying to convince this older girl to keep in touch with him after graduation, or at least accept one of his school uniform buttons as a parting gift. At another interval, he's playing volleyball at the beach. And another after that, the mouth of a muzzle is flashing in his face.

Anyway, it might be a good thing that, when Denji lurches awake, he can't seem to recall the specifics of what startled him back to consciousness at all, the effort much like trying to pick out details from undeveloped film negatives. For a moment, he sits there, pushing against the rapid rise and fall of his chest with a hand. Eventually, through his bleary eyes, he registers the barrenness of the room, the light creeping in from where the window blinds are still shuttered. If not for the sounds of kitchenware being set and appliances running, he probably would have collapsed backwards into bed for an indeterminate amount of minutes. Instead, curiosity seizes him by the collar.

The door trundles open. Immediately: It smells good, fresh and fragrant in a way he hasn't ever been able to capture through his own cooking attempts.

Try as Denji might to appear real casual as he leaves the bedroom, stifling a yawn and itching at the cord under his shirt, it's a hard act to maintain when his focus sharpens in on the assortment of dishes arranged on the table. In fact, it lasts not even a second before it's dropped, and he makes a beeline for the scallion pancakes, grubby fingers reaching to tear into what's available. ]

Dibs on — ow, hothothothot!

[ The bit he'd torn off lands right back into place with the other freshly served patties as Denji snatches his hand back, his fingertips reddened from the contact. Nayuta snickers from her seat, looking very suddenly like she's enjoying the change in breakfast menu after all. ]

Yeah, yeah! Keep laughing and the Game Boy's comin' with me to school instead, [ Denji says over his shoulder, moving back into the kitchen area to rinse his fingers. He doesn't really need to when he could pat the oil down on a napkin or something… But the scent of disinfectant hasn't exactly evaded his notice. There's only one culprit here who'd exert himself first thing in the morning, and it seems like he's still toiling away over there. ]

Mornin'. [ He's not sure which to thank Aki for first, the tidied apartment or the breakfast. So, obviously, he opts for neither. ] Your hair — you missed a couple in the back.

[Aki glances over his shoulder when Denji comes out, the way he nearly runs toward the waiting food. He thinks to tell him it's still hot but it's too late and he's getting burned and laughed at by the kid.]

[He turns back around, flicking the tap open and dunking the frying pan under the spray. It feels way too familiar. He doesn't like it.]

Morning. [He steps aside slightly so Denji can use the sink. He thinks that will be it, that he isn't going to say anything about the food, and he's right, but instead it's about his hair. He looks at him vaguely, hands still partially soapy from cleaning the dishes. It's done with a rubber band he took off a bunch of scallions.]

This hand doesn't work as well. [The one he lost, he means, before it was replaced. It works fine, though. Sometimes he has the sensation it isn't there, but it's not that bad. He turns to look back down at the sink and scrubs the sponge into an oily spot, as if he didn't just lie about that at all.] Fix it, if you can.

[He's curious if he will. Curious what he'll do. But it's deeper than that. He wants to know what Denji feels like again. He can't believe how much he craved this sort of thing - how Denji would help him in the mornings to knot his tie or put his hair up. Even just holding his jacket sleeve out for him when he couldn't reach it easily. He had hated it at the time, the thought of feeling incapable, but having someone to rely on... He hasn't had that for too long.]

M'kay.

[ Lie or truth, Denji doesn't think to question him. The same way that he doesn't think to admit to Aki that there aren't actually any noticeable flyaways springing out from the bed of his scalp, the strands bundled together just fine even with a rubber. Aki looks the same as Denji's ever seen him, as he's ever remembered him — maybe that's what this is about. Aware of it or not, maybe Denji wanted to hold onto the sight a little.

Though he'd lightly shaken off the excess water from his fingers in the sink, they're still slick when he steps behind Aki and goes to undo the tie, a few cool droplets falling down Aki's nape. Thoughtlessly, Denji smears a thumb against his skin, to keep them from falling into the neckband of his shirt.

They did this a lot back then, during those off-moments between shifts of watching over Power. He always tugged too hard, his fist coming away with strings of fair hairs after all was said and done, but he can't remember Aki giving him a hard time about it. Which, in hindsight, made him feel worse about not doing a good job. Now, it's satisfying watching his fingers coast front to back, back to front, between the layers. Not quite coarse nor velvety, but soft and pliant enough to be guided to where he's maintaining the tension of the knot toward the center of Aki's crown. He's gotten good at this, has the repetition committed to muscle memory by now from all the practice Nayuta's forced on him, so he doesn't understand why his hands tremble the more he concentrates. Whatever, that's ignorable — if Aki doesn't like the feeling of his nails teasing his scalp, he can say something. After one last comb through Aki's hair to flatten out any obvious bumps and tangles, Denji stretches out the rubber band and finishes off the tail with a clean twist. He lets go.

In the background, Nayuta's calling out to him for help braiding her hair, her mouth full of half-chewed food. ]

Wait your turn, geez — hey, save some for me! [ He starts to leave to Aki's side, but stops short. Looks back, his brows furrowed. ] Did I do good?

[Having physical touch is so weird. It sends the hair on Aki's nape on end, the way Denji's nails run through his scalp and tug his hair into shape. He feels his back straightening which - well, he isn't that much taller than Denji, but he tries to lower his head in response to no avail. It's so strange. So strange to feel Denji do this sort of thing again.]

[He thinks he'll just walk away now, that this wasn't anything, that the brush of his wet finger on his nape to keep the water from running down the shirt Denji lent him didn't make his jaw set. But he stops before running off and asks that. For a moment he thinks he might turn and pat him on the head. A Good boy motion. Something demeaning for asking like that. But he stares down at the sink, at the pan he's been washing the whole time.]

Yeah. Thanks.

[He finally shuts off the water and shakes the pan off before setting it to dry. Once he's cleaned off and ready to sit down, he pauses at the sight of the table, well-set and two people eating at it. The image so normal it actively hurts his brain. He sits down on the hard floor and takes a long drink from a glass of water. His chest hurts again.]

[At some point this morning while cleaning, he realized that Gun doesn't like the girl.]

I'll be talking to Kishibe today. Probably some of the people taking care of me, too. I'll see what they want to do - Where they want me to stay. [So no promises that this will continue.] But I'll leave a note if I need to go.

[ Great, this conversation.

The bowl of miso he's sipping from veils his immediate reaction, his throat pulsing as he swallows the broth down hard. Luckily, the good feelings he tends to associate with food and eating helps to balance out the near-instant pinprick of agitation heating his head… So rather than outright protesting as he wants to, Denji just stares sulkily down at his plate as he heaps more rice on top of another pancake. ]

Whatever… I guess that's fine. [ It isn't, but he'll deal. For the time being. ] I'll still be able to find you later, right? Not like they’re gonna make you go no-contact or something?

[ That's Denji's primary concern if he really has to leave. If Aki's handlers want to hide him away as part of some precautionary measure, fine. Like, getting a postcard would be nice — hearing Aki's voice over the phone would, too, but he won't push his luck. Just something better than always wondering or having to pry non-answers from Kishibe's stitched mouth later. ]

[He looks so... glum. Aki pauses as he considers what to say next. He doesn't want to give him false hope, but...]

I'll see what I can do.

[...but he's also annoyed that he's been lied to. Maybe not outright, but information was kept from him. Maybe part of that was his own fault. Maybe part of that was their plan. Maybe, now that he knows Denji is alive, they think he won't cooperate as much. He doesn't know. Doesn't know if being back in Denji's life is even good for him, when all he wants is for the kid to live a normal life anwyay. Not worry about what Aki is doing for work.]

And - What about her? Do you just stay here during the day? [At first he didn't address the kid but now he speaks directly to Nayuta, looking at her. Is she just going to sit around with the dogs all day doing fuck all? But Nayuta sets him straight immediately - "I'm going to school, duh! I'm a full time student! And I did my homework for today!" Aki visibly startles, looking extremely disturbed as he looks to Denji.] You let a devil go to school? [And Nayuta shouts back, "Of course I go to school! I'm gonna go to college, too! I'll be a genius!" and Aki just looks at a loss. How can you send a devil to college...? Do devils even grow into adults? He has no idea what the hell is happening here.]

Well... What time do you both get home? [Which Nayuta also has an answer for - "Denji goes out to be Chainsaw Man after school, so he gets back whenever he's done!" And Aki just stares at her, like every statement out of her mouth is creating twenty more questions in his head. Because there's that title again. Chainsaw Man. The same as what's on this shirt. And Denji said something about being a superhero... And... He turns to look at Denji slowly, mouth in a grim, flat line. Waiting for an explanation.]

[He's starting to understand why Gun hates this devil.]

[ …And utterly oblivious to any growing concern emerging from Aki's side of the table, the change in Denji's disposition brightens astronomically when Nayuta chimes in. He's more than happy to stoke on his soon-to-be Nobel Prize winner. ]

Yo! Nayuta, that's not right. You aren't gonna be a genius, you already are one! You'll just start getting tons of news press and merch made when you get to big kid school — like me!

[ Yes, because the person with bedhead currently licking rice off his bare knuckles is someone she should aspire to be. Or at least Nayuta seems to think so by how she's nodding her head along while stroking her chin, as if to seriously ponder the advice of a trusted mentor.

"Yeah, but I don't want merch, I just want more pizza in the world," she says, plainly. Denji, the ever supportive caretaker, is about to agree wholeheartedly that more pizza in the world would be fantastic. That is, until he finally gets a good look at the face Aki is pulling at him right then, which, in turn, causes Denji to pull his own face. ]

What? [ Then, it clicks. ] Didn't I tell you already? I'm famous. See, you're even wearing a limited edition Chainsaw Man shirt I got at a fan meet 'n' greet. [ Oh, this gives him an idea. ] …You'll probably miss me when you leave, so you can have it. I'll even sign it for ya.

[ He'll sign it with his real name, the one he can barely spell, just for you, Aki!! Man, it's real hard being so popular.

The thing he himself doesn't realize about Chainsaw Man is that no one properly owns the intellectual property rights to his name or likeness, not even Denji. He's less of an actual signed celebrity to a talent agency and more of a cryptid who regularly tries to hand out his phone number to girls on the street. Sometimes he (selectively) saves people and cats, and that's cool. But, theoretically, anyone could impersonate him. Doubt that'd ever be an actual future problem, though… ]

Edited 2023-07-24 03:50 (UTC)

[...He thinks a devil is going to be a genius and he thinks he's famous. Aki pauses and glances down at the shirt when Denji offers to sign it for him. Then looks back at him, the disbelief now full-on worry.]

What do you mean, fan meet-and-greet? You put your face to this stuff? [If he's just running around killing devils, that's one thing. But if he's doing it in such a flashy way that it goes beyond private hunting... His brow twitches lower.] People don't know it's you, right? Tell me you weren't stupid enough that people know you by this... thing.

[Again he looks down at the shirt. In a way, he's at a loss. Why would Denji put himself out there like that? Doesn't he know how...]

[Suddenly it dawns on him and all the worry and trepidation translates directly into fatigue as he raises his head and looks at Denji again, exhausted. Fans, signing things, fame...]

Are you just doing this to get laid?

[Kid be damned. He doesn't view Nayuta as a child anymore, now that he knows she's a devil.]

Bingo. Why else would I be working so hard? I wanna have a buttloads of sex, dude.

[ Ever wonder what a person with no self-respect looks like, Aki? Effectively proving each one of Aki's worries well-founded, his face splits into a grin so wide it almost looks like a cartoon jaw going unhinged. Denji doesn't even have the decency to look sheepish as he thrusts out a peace sign, nearly toppling over his glass of orange juice. But, hey, Chainsaw Man abides by no duplicities! Wouldn't want to set any bad examples for the munchkin here.

Never mind that in the periphery of their conversation, Nayuta can be seen copying Denji's peace sign. ]

And all that stuff about getting my face out there is a work in progress, got it?! I keep tryin' but it feels like something always gets in the way of my big reveal…

[ Tragic. ]

[The exhaustion on his face is like Aki didn't sleep a wink last night. Truthfully, he barely did, but still. It's been so long since he heard Denji discuss his big plans to experience the miracle that is fucking.]

[But it sounds like people still don't actually know it's him. So that's good. He's still anonymous - Hopefully Aki can convince him to keep it that way. He shakes his head and doesn't say another word about it. He knows how Denji gets when sex is involved.]

At least come home today right after school. I'll show you how to cook a few things, or something. [Even though it sounds like Denji managed to cook and eat an entire humanoid body, but - whatever. He's trying to get him not to be stupid and risking his own neck. Even if he knows better than anyone how a hybrid body works, now - the idea that Denji might actually get found out when he knows how the government feels about that sort of stuff...]

[...Maybe this is why Kishibe didn't want him to know Denji was alive. If he knows, then the feds might find out about him. What would they do with something like Chainsaw Man?]

[Gpd, that's such a stupid name. Under his breath with a sense of disdain he mutters,] Chainsaw Man... I thought you wanted a normal life.

[ If Denji had any appreciation for fine poetry, he'd write verses and verses over the shapeliness of his favorite pornstar's ass. Thank fuck he's still learning how to string coherent sentences together in his head when he and Nayuta flip through her children's books, making that a non-issue, but the moment anyone gets his motor going, they usually have to brace for a circuitous discussion over their favorite position at least. He's sorta gotten better at censoring himself while in the presence of an elementary schooler — just, obviously, not by much, as evident by the exchange from two seconds ago.

So the topic change is advisable, but now there's something else he's not going to be letting go of anytime soon. ]

— You mean it? You'll still be here by then?

[ Dismissing Aki's last remarks for the mumblings of an old guy, Denji visibly perks up, leaning forward against the table. He was considering making his usual prowl near the station for crap to scalp off some of the folks sitting around there, but the thought jettisons from his mind in that very instant. It's only after a full beat has passed that he remembers to play things cool. ]

I mean, like… Dunno, I gotta check my schedule. S'pretty crammed, but maybe I could cancel a couple dates. [ …Ah, screw it, he can't hold back from adding: ] No take backs!

[Denji on a date, huh. Aki stares across at him, considers calling him on his lie, but...]

Yeah. [But it's not worth it. Because the idea of anyone looking forward to seeing him is a little alien, right now. The idea of anyone wanting to see him, period, feels alien. Like getting your head scratched when someone pulls your hair up. Good in a way he didn't expect.]

So don't get home too late. I don't want to have to hunt you down in Kabukicho or something.

[His plan for the day is simple - talk to Kishibe. He's not exactly his lawyer when it comes to dealing with this stuff, but with his connections, he makes a useful go-between. A go-between who only gives the briefest summaries of what's going on, but it's better than no information whatsoever, to just show up and be told to kill something twice his size. At least knowing how long the car trip is gives him peace of mind.]

[But for now, he starts it by trying to urge these two in getting going. Denji said something about being late to school most days and he's not letting that happen while he's here. He hurries both of them up and despite Nayuta telling him he's not her boss he doesn't really let her get a word in, bouncing back at her easily the same way he did with Power when she would crow about being so above him. He dealt with Control without knowing it once, he can do it again. At least he doesn't have a crush on this one.]

[When they do get to the door, Aki has to stop himself from grabbing Denji as his foot crosses the threshold. He even feels his arm begin to raise as if to snatch him by the arm, his body tense with the discomfort of being separated again. Which, he knows, is silly. Denji will be back at the end of the day and he can see him again even after this. So long as he keeps it quiet that Denji is this Chainsaw Man, it won't harm anyone, he thinks. And once Denji comes to agree with that as well... Surely he can let him live a happy life. Surely Denji can continue climbing up in the world. Despite the devil who is grabbing him by the arm to tug him out the door.]

I'll see you when you get home. [He hasn't said that in so long. The little come-and-go greeting that he had to teach Power and that Denji began saying not long after their cohabitation. It's... nice, he thinks. To have someone to say it to, who will respond in kind.]

See ya.

[ Denji says back, tilting his body to keep just within view of the fast-shortening gap of the door before it regrettably shuts Aki away inside. He’s all dressed and packed for the day, no thanks to his own efforts to hang back until the very last possible minute — does he really have to go to school? Go to class and pretend he’s taking notes on today’s lectures when he’s just doodling faces in the margins? Finding Aki again should count as some sort of national holiday or something, right…

Nayuta swings the hard bottom of her backpack into his shin, and like a sack of concrete chucked off a pier, Denji drops. Ow. Does her way of telling him to move it or lose it always have to be so painful? It was easier with Power because he could get away with violently retaliating, but fighting a kid isn't considered as cool. Or socially acceptable, whatever.

Unlike him, Nayuta’s never once been tardy to class, so, of course, she has no patience for whatever keeps him staying put in front of their apartment. From her place standing above him, she casts a disapproving look his way. Tells him, "I still don't like that guy, Denji. He makes you act extra stupid and you're already stupid enough! And he made me take vitamins. I hate him! Send him back. Now."

Denji blinks oafishly at her, mouth parted. In the next second, he reaches over and pulls at one of the strings of her sneakers, unlacing it completely.

"Noooo!" she cries out, despairingly, not noticing Denji limp past her.

He makes it to first period. It’s probably the earliest he’s ever arrived, the feeling of not being eyed as he walks in late for once something he could get used to. While putting away his stuff, he drops a pen, and it rolls to the feet of a girl he let sit on him during lunch the other day. She picks it up and hands it back. Smiles at him, the type that'd normally have him leaping for joy, but he just thanks her. Looks out the window and notices the sky is clear today. Blue, which is a dumb thing to observe when it's blue everyday, but it feels bluer, saturated in its blueness, overly vivid and suffused into the curtains, the landscape. The rubber band he'd used to tie up Aki's hair had been blue, too.

Time passes, as with any normal school life — it's not really anything like he imagined all that time ago playing pretend with Reze, quizzing each other in a darkened classroom. He thinks she'd probably like it, though, if she were still around. Sucks that she isn't, maybe with someone to kid around with, he'd be able to pay better attention —

A girl stumbles into him in the hallway during lunch.

Her face isn't immediately familiar to him, but the discomfort on it is, like someone planted their hand squarely at the small of her back and rammed her forward. Asa Mitaka.

"H-Hey… We were — I mean, I — I was curious…" She trails off with a weird, high-pitched laugh. For some reason, she keeps looking everywhere but straight at him. "Umm, that is… To say… "

Suddenly, her back straightens from her former hunch. And though she's shorter than him, she almost appears to be staring at Denji from a much, much higher vantage point. There's an edge to her expression, like somebody held her face down to a whetstone, grated it down until all they left were scar marks and a dagger-thin smirk.

"Mm, did you find something nice out there, boy?"

Much later, long after classes are finished for the day, Nayuta will flounce back inside the apartment in a huff and bark at Aki, “Hey, you! Denji's pet! Go fetch my stuff."

It looks like she has all the belongings a child-devil should have after a day of school: her bag, sheets of homework peeking out from the open clasp of said bag, an extra snack she'd bought herself off the street on her way home in one of her hands… Oh, but there'd usually be something else — someone else — holding her other.

And if prodded for further explanation, the only thing she offers is a harsh scowl and and a slight, incredibly slight, hint: "Some cat-stink woman took him somewhere weird. I swear if he reeks like blood again, I'm not gonna let him sleep in my room!" ]

[The day is too eventful for Aki. He's gotten used to calmer days with only a few things to worry about, has gotten more existential in his thoughts due to how much time he has. Today, not so much. Kishibe is over not long after the students are at school and though he isn't satisfied with the explanation for why he kept the status of Denji a secret to Aki and vice versa ("they thought you wouldn't cooperate"), he can't do much about what's already happened. The more pressing issue is where he's going to be while made to lay low, but Kishibe seems fine with the idea of him staying with Denji. Maybe this is his soft spot, Aki thinks. The soft spot he pretends he doesn't have for Aki. He saw it toward the end of his first life, when he wanted to pull division four from the Gun Devil expedition. Now, watching him stare at one of the dogs sleeping on its back, tongue hanging out, he can sense a similar sort of lenience in him.]

[At least until Aki turns on the TV. The news isn't too unusual, typical devil attacks and news about an earthquake somewhere in the country, some political news - and then a special on Chainsaw Man, the rogue devil who kills other devils and saves women. His last sighting. His kill streak. And - the focus of the brief segment - whether it's true that he's eaten a cat.]

[Aki stares at the TV in total shock as Kishibe says, "He probably hasn't."]

[He has so much to talk to him about. The people who are fans of him, the people who hate him - how can he not see how dangerous that all is? It drives his pulse up just watching, and he can't tell if it's Gun getting excited by the destruction on the screen or his own body watching Denji crash through a building as a reporter wonders what school he goes to.]

[Eventually he needs to go out. Kishibe lent him some money, at least, so he can stock up on what he thinks are essential, thinking in the short term more than anything. What he can show Denji that's easy to make and tastes good enough that even that devil won't complain. He grabs a few floor cushions as well. Since it seems like he only owns one. And a box of cigarettes. He hasn't smoked since he quit - but the idea of it has a comforting ring to it. Maybe just one or two. Honestly, it's probably the stress of walking by a sign noting Chainsaw Man shirts are sold out (he took off the one Denji lent him).]

[The devil, though, is his main long-term concern. Denji's stupidity can be solved. Not so much a devil. Kishibe told him the same thing Denji told him - she's not Makima, but she's still the Control Devil. Aki doesn't really get it, but the main point he wants to know is why Denji is so smitten with her. Knowing they were all manipulated by Makima to the extent that his memory of her is fuzzy at best, it's hard to trust the apparent 12 year old from being able to walk right over him, and how does he avoid that?]

[To which Kishibe had said, "Who knows," and Aki rubbed at his eyes. Wonderful. When she comes home and yells at him, calls him Denji's dog (how the tables have turned), Aki just gives her a withering look and asks where Denji is. Then pushes her when she doesn't want to say, keeping any desire to offer her something in exchange from verbalizing. He has a feeling it won't work as well as with Power. Denji's ability to control her is definitely different from his own ability - she trusts Denji, but not him. Not yet, at least.]

["Some cat-stink woman" doesn't tell him much so he just tells her to go sit down and have the snacks he got as a sign of goodwill (and because it's slightly healthier than the crap Denji had on hand). He stays around waiting, writing down a few notes and ideas for things he wants to make sure Denji knows about. Stuff like how to use bleach in the bathroom, and when to throw away certain greens. Separating burnables, making sure he knows the schedule. His foot continues tapping impatiently for an hour until the devil finally snaps at him to quit pacing. That Denji is out being Chainsaw Man, she bets. And boy, does she sound delighted about that.]

[Aki heads out. First, to his school, which Kishibe gave him the address for. Along with his current rule to abide by: "Don't use Gun. They'll take you right back into their own buildings the second you do. So don't even think about it."]

[Why would he even need to, he thinks, until one of the students he asks mention that they saw Denji going to the train station, but not the local one. He was taking to that one girl from the other class. Mitaka. "Cat-stink girl," he figures. When he asks where and the student finally asks how Aki is even related, Aki blurts out that he's his brother.]

[Just like Makima wanted, he supposes. But it works - he learns that she talked to him before, too. That she's in the Devil Hunting Club. So probably about that. Aki thanks the student profusely and for some reason apologies for any trouble Denji has ever caused. The student just says he's a good chair. Whatever that means. Slang these days.]

[Kabukicho. It's a long shot. But maybe he went back there. Maybe finding Aki was unrelated. Maybe whatever he's looking for is still there. He heads to the area, pace quick and impatient.]

[For god's sake, he told him "See you when you get home." He should know how to pull this shit.]

[ “This is insane… This is insaner than insane…! It’s not that I can’t… But a straight up…” A furtive glance Denji’s way, one that would be obvious to anyone else. But this is Denji. He keeps jerking his head back an forth, away from a fly that's been buzzing around him ever since they stepped foot in the alleyway, the same one he'd passed through just one night before. She watches as he accidentally slaps himself in the face trying to get rid of it. “Doing you know is going too far, Yoru — wait! What'd you call me just now?!”

Asa Mitaka is a funny girl.

More importantly, though, she's a pretty girl. In a damp, sweaty way, but he's the last person to be judging anyone for that. The weather's gotten warmer lately, and besides, she was nice enough give him all that help these past few weeks, in spite of how he only absorbed about one piece of it. Still, when she asked him to repay the favor with a date, he imagined something like a cafe where maybe they'd hold hands under the table and share one of those couple-only drinks, and when he returned home to Aki, he'd be able to brag all about it. So why the hell are they back at that empty lot from yesterday?

He asks her as much while they hop over some of the obstructions cordoning off the area. She looks at him, weirdly terrified for a passing second, then says, "Of course, devil hunting dates are all the rage! If you had any friends, you'd know that!"

Denji frowns. He has friends. She may be in grade school, but she still counts. Plus, there's Aki now, sorta. And, anyway, Chainsaw Man has hordes of groupies lined up with lightsticks and headbands and crap, which are better than friends! He's been saying this!

Grumbling, he continues following after her until they reach the very center of the space, where a slim fissure is situated. Huh. He hadn't noticed this last time.

They circle around it as Asa provides some type of long-winded exposition or other about how the patterns of the devil slayings lately are consistent with the appearance of several clusters of needle-like clefts found out in the streets of the district, suggesting a correlation. The fact that there's a devil out there cannibalizing its own, presumably to gather its strength, is alarming, but the way it leaves just the flabby skin and bones of their meals, sucked dry of all fat and organs, is a fascinating tip-off to its true nature. Or so Asa says.

Okay, he replies, pretending to be listening to her when he's really trying to focus in on the sweet-voiced sounds that he can hear just so coming from the back entrance of the adult cinema. Like, he's pretty sure he recognizes that actress…

Out of nowhere, a pebble rolls. Patches of dust begin to unsettle. Denji and Asa glance at each other. Something is moving, and it becomes abundantly clear very quickly, that's not all it's doing. It thunders and roils and arches from under their feet, the stage of their eminent battle beginning to deform. The once empty lot splashes with tiny, pin-sized debris as hundreds of narrow pistils burst out, releasing an off-color plume of… something. Smoke? Perfume? Spores?

Whatever it is, it smells weird. He doesn't have the time to ponder it long, though, as he watches devil after devil slither out into the open, attracted to the honeyed scent at first. But once they smell him, or rather Pochita, they redirect their sights to Denji. Maneuvering out of the way of some particularly opportunistic devils trying their luck with him, Denji twists and turns, searching for any sign of his classmate — he doesn't see her anywhere. Did she join the fray somewhere else? ]

Oh, come on! This date's no fun! Ahhhh, I shoulda just gone home and learned how to steam fish…

[ And yet Denji's cackling through his lamentations, feels wild and well-oiled in a way that's viciously familiar, as automatic as the way his hand goes to his heart, his old friend. The full length of the cord flashes outward, and all he hears is the reverb of a motor howling — or is that his own laughter? He can never tell either apart when he's like this, jagged saws spraying from his limbs, his face a synthesis of cable and metal plating.

After that is the usual bloodbath. The smart thing to do would be to purge the original devil they'd been after, put a stop to its fumes, but the deluge of minor devils are pretty fucking annoying. It's unfortunate, but one mosquito-like devil even manages to get the jump on him, flinging his body through the side of a building like a projectile. He lands the way a wet rag would, rolling and crashing into all sorts of lighting and audio visual equipment. A naked couple yells out in distress. The film crew scatters. ]

Woahhhhhhhh!! Boobies?!

[ …The delight is short-lived, because another devil follows in after him, pincering Denji's between its claws, his arms locked between; it scrapes his back raw against the stale tiles, tears up his school blazer in the process. Pain sparks in an instant. ]

Fuuuuck, get off of me, ugly!

[The first sign of trouble is seeing a man rushing from a building, nearly tripping over his own two feet to get away. It's getting late, so naturally the area is more crowded - some other people run in response to seeing the first guy run, and it's only when someone shouts, Devil! that Aki begins actively heading toward the location everyone is running away from. Panic hasn't fully broken out yet, but that seems to be thanks to the location. In the back alley of some porn shop - and something stinks. A devil nearly runs out from beneath his foot and Aki instinctively raises his hand to shoot it. Kishibe's words echo at the last moment - Don't even think about it. He curses under his breath and looks around briefly before spotting a piece of pipe that fell off a building. It's rusted and not much longer than his arm, but he grabs it and moves closer to the rift.]

[Then he hears it - the sound he hasn't heard in over a year. Only in his dreams has he heard the buzz and roar of a chainsaw. It always fills him with a sense of dread, a sense of worry and fear. This time, the fear is what hits hardest. He all but throws the pipe away as he rushes through the throng of smaller devils until he sees a man with a camera rush by yelling, "Out of the way!" followed by a nude woman being covered by an equally naked man. He almost grabs one of them to ask where the high schooler is when he hears Denji shout out in pain and immediately he turns toward the sound, eyes wide.]

[There's not actually anything to fear. Denji can't die. He's functionally immortal. Even if he gets hurt, some blood will heal him in no time. He'll groan about how much it hurt, sure, but he'll roll right back up and be ready for round two. But Aki doesn't think about any of that as five instantaneous gunshots ring through the alley. Five devils in the alley - including the one on top of Denji - all but explode on impact, the bullets slicing straight through their hearts in the blink of an eye without Aki having to even aim his hand. He stares in shock for a moment, hand dark and metallic and fingers gone, replaced with small muzzles. When he lowers it, the metal falls off in dark chunks, sizzling like lava on the asphalt. He stares at Denji as the lights in the studio flash rhythmically.]

[Somewhere he thinks he hears the word gun and he reaches forward to grab him, picking him up under his arm and rushing through the studio to find a place to hide. He carries him into one of the side rooms that Denji's body didn't make a hole in before looking down at him, eyes still wide and crazed, more wild than he has ever looked at Denji before. More Denji-like than he's ever looked at him before. Not feral, not bloodthirsty - but overwhelmed with power.]

Put the chainsaws away - now!

[ The rise of irritation is almost instinctual, primal, and the same could be said about the way Denji struggles against the arms bracing him in place as they shoot for cover in some storage room. The arrival of an ally isn’t something Denji expected, nor really desired, since that’d mean sharing his winnings and acclaim with another person — though when he curves his neck to lambaste the fucker who's dragging him away, he realizes it's someone who couldn't care less about trivialities like the court of public opinion.

Tch, Aki.

His aggressions cease in a blink of an eye as he lets himself get carried, like a scorned pup hanging by the scruff of his neck. Aki may be a hybrid like him now, but the thought of hurting him again isn't something he could stomach, even in his deepest fervor for bedlam and conflict. It doesn't make him any less furious, though, and the moment he senses they're safe from the roaming devils outside, Denji wrenches and wriggles until both his feet slam into the ground. Pushes away from Aki, hard, stumbling shoulder-first into a wall. He's bleeding. Who cares. So long as he hasn't been reduced to wet chunks yet, so long as he can't see his own viscera dripping on the wall opposite of him, he should be able to get back out there in no time.

In the beginning, he'd hated the feeling of being sundered apart and seamed back together, but now he doesn't feel any particular way about the savaging his body goes through in the name of victory. It’s just something that happens, that hurts a lot, but he knows the impermanence of pain better than most people. Well, maybe not Aki anymore. But that makes this all the more confusing. ]

The hell’re you doin’?!

[ He whizzes around to face Aki, nearly throws himself into his face as he yells, spittle flying from his serrated maw. However, the instant Denji gets a straight look at him, he visibly flinches back in surprise. There's something different about him, implacable and shaken — like a bowstring tremoring right before an arrow streaks through the air. Still, that's not enough to scare him. ]

I know I'm late getting back, but — no, forget that! The only place these chainsaws are goin’ is up a crapton of devil ass! Get lost, Aki. You're not supposed to be here.

[Maybe it's shallow to feel a sting at those words. That he's not supposed to be here. Because Aki believes it, somewhat - even if Denji claims he didn't kill him, it's not how Aki remembers it. He remembers Denji being ripped in half by his own actions. Maybe they were Gun's actions by then - but it was still his body, his face. Right now, after feeling his spine straighten at Denji's words, that same face is staring down at Denji with a tight scowl and wide eyes.]

Forget it. They're small fries. Private hunters will take care of them. [He can hear something slamming against the door, something heavy. He doesn't turn to look.] I told you to come home. Put them away or I'll -

[The door crashes open in a sea of splinters and Aki barely has a moment to turn before a devil rolls into the room, its body round like a sphere as it lunges at them both. Aki is taken off guard by it and falls backward, but when he looks up he feels the sensation of his hair falling around him. The elastic from this morning finally broke. Instead, from the back of his head sprouts a hammer and from the front the barrel of a pistol. A crack like a rifle sounds and the devil splatters the walls of the small room, destroyed in an instant.]

[Aki turns his head to look toward Denji, though he can't see as well like this. His vision feels like it's pinned, like he's looking through sights and not eyeballs. Everything feels foggy.]

...Put them away. Denji. [His voice is tense. Desperate.]

[ Every fiber of him rejects the idea, screeches to a halt at the very thought of reversing his transformation — yeah, these are small fry, but how is he supposed to take care of the head honcho if he’s not in top form? If he can’t be Chainsaw Man? Aki should know how punishing the after effects are. This isn’t fair, and Denji’s immature enough to raise a fuss about it, say some other crap he doesn’t mean.

But the second he watches carbon steel rupture out from Aki’s skull, his protests die in his throat, a trickle of incoherent sound taking its place. Cold fear coils through each vertebrae of his spine, sinking into his marrow. His bones are heavy, unmoveable. He’s frozen. He can’t do anything, can’t even squeeze a word out between the way his lungs are heaving for air, some sort of anchorage.

It dawns on him that he felt like this that day, too.

Aki tells him his request a second time, and this time it sticks. The alloy melts from his limbs, his face, all the viscosity of syrup. Denji looks down, turning his hands and arms as the goop puddle at his shoes, almost surprised at himself. He was trying so hard to think for himself, not just blindly obey someone, too.

Denji watches Aki. ]

…You turn back now.

[ Turn back, turn back, turn back. The incantation hadn’t worked back then. He doesn't know why he thinks it might this time. ]

[The adrenaline barreling through him doesn't want to. It tells him there are more devils here. He can keep killing them. Rid the world of their scourge, send them straight back to hell. Only he has the ability to kill them in an instant, no pain from either side. An easy, quick death.]

[But Denji is staring at him like that, and all he can see is the way he was sobbing, hurling snow in his face, teeth grit and desperate. Just like back then, he caves in an instant.]

Yeah.

[It falls off him the same way, rolling onto the ground like chunks of slop before melting and steaming like hot iron. Aki rubs his eyes for a moment. They always ache after this. Like they were just in a blizzard that he had to squint to see through. He pushes himself upright to stand and stares across at Denji. Looks at the same face that seemed so excited this morning at the idea that he would still be here right now. He doesn't know what he sees now.]

...Let's go. [Back home he wants to say. But it's not his home. He sounds tired but defeated, depressed. They might take him right back for this. This might be the last little bit of time he has with him. And why does it feel just the same as back then, when he woke up with the knowledge he had killed him?]

[ There. There Aki is. Not Gun Fiend, or Gun Hybrid, or Gun whatever…

Seeing him back to normal should be enough to relax the tightness in his jaw, to forget about ever fighting him, ever leaning in close enough to guzzle from the very wounds Denji’d inflicted on him — does Aki even remember that? Probably not. Hopefully not. At the time, his mouth was still grinning and dimpled. Numbed by mania.

Eyes pinching shut, he forces himself to close the memory behind a door like he always does, and then he moves.

…Or he tries to. Tries moving, tries listening to the order Aki gave him, the way he used to. Makes it to the broken frame of the room’s entrance to follow him out, stepping over the pitiful remnants of the door barely hanging from its hinges, only to stop just shy of passing the room he'd crashed in from. ]

Aki, I… I can’t yet… [ His hand raises to his neck, where there’s still blood crusting from the lacerations there; he feels them running all the way down his back. But it’s not that he’s bothered by. ] There’s this chick who was with me. And she was there when that big devil came outta the ground — I gotta make sure she’s, like, not dead.

[ He edges closer to the pile of brick and insulation, his gaze darting around the streets below. Sirens are beginning to blare and flash in the distance, headed for the smoke billowing up from other building in the vicinity. ]

You told me to put the chainsaws away and I did, so you have to let me go look. It’ll be quick! You can come along, if you want.

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