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

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.

[He was with a civilian?! Aki stares at Denji in shock at how fucking stupid he is. Why the hell did he bring someone with him? Someone he isn't even sure can - ]

[But he pauses, thinking of what he's heard today. Cat-stink woman. Devil Hunting Club. And Denji being with a chick - it all adds up. But he doesn't like the resulting sum. Still looking unhappy and frustrated, Aki nods at him. Fine. But he's definitely coming. And before Denji can take a step forward, he grabs him by the elbow, one last word of warning.]

Don't you dare try and kill anything. [And lets him go.] I'll handle any of the devils. Don't do anything stupid. [Just seeing the blood on his clothes is enough to keep his heart racing like a thoroughbred. He doesn't want to see any more tears in his skin.]

[ Pushy, much? Man, what gives… Tempting as it is to whine about Aki’s behavior, he bites back the urge with a turn. Denji still remembers the flicker of hurt that’d crossed his expression earlier. Talking to Aki doesn't feel as easy it used to be. That, or maybe he just cares a little more now.

The outer wall of this place looks done for, but the skeletal remains of what once was a fire escape continues clinging to the side of the building for dear life. He doesn't bother telling Aki what he's doing, expecting him to follow and keep apace. He clears his jump down to the landing with relative ease, in spite of his injuries. It bounces lightly from his weight, creaking and inclining in a way it's not supposed to; the balance was probably damaged earlier, so Denji makes a scramble for the opposite end. Doesn't bother kicking down the ladder to make it to the next landing, just keeps recklessly vaulting over the precipice of one level to the next until they've made it back to the ground.

The fumes from earlier seem to have petered out for the time being, relegated to nothing but a mist wisping at their ankles. Judging by the emaciated bodies of some of the devils littering the area, part of the reason for that likely has to do with the more fearsome devil having had its fill. He wants to go back to that lot from before, badly, to check if that flowery devil is still there, but he's not really in Aki's good graces right now, so. Denji opts for a different direction, heading for the more populated streets, where he expects all the first responders will be blocking off the area, retrieving statements from any witnesses… And tending to the wounded.

A few devils pop out from the woodwork here and there. Begrudgingly, Denji lets Aki take care of them as promised. He doesn't get why he can't at least get some swings in, but whatever.

Keeping partially hidden in the alley, Denji peeks his head around the corner to try and make odds and ends of who all is being treated by the EMTs. He'd approach, but then they'd probably insist on trying to get him all sewn up. After a moment's search, it's like his whole body sags forward with disappointment. There's a part of Denji that'd hoped to see a cute girl anxiously pacing back and forth, waiting out there to see if he made it okay. ]

Uh, doesn't look like she's there… I dunno if she'd run away. Well, I guess she sorta looked like the type… [ A pestering hopefulness bleeds its way into the look he gives Aki. ] But for all I know she could still be trying to take on the big guy. C'mon, can't we go back?

[Aki follows Denji out, easily navigating the same path he does. His eyes stay peeled to take in the damage as well as possible sightings. That was at least six gunshots. Way too much for most people to brush off. In a way, it helps that Denji is bloodied, as he fades into the rest of the wreckage and makes the two of them stand out less as a result. The few devils that crawl out are half-sucked dry anyway, but Aki doesn't shoot them, instead transforming his fist into dark carbon and slamming it through their heads. It gives him a splattering of devil blood but he tries to ignore it. Tries to ignore the heady rush it's given him.]

[Staring out at the throng of injured people, Aki is silent for a moment when Denji speaks, how much he wants to go back obvious from how he sounds if not how he looks. But he sees past the simple sea of aching bodies and recognizes the whole scene from his days in Public Safety. There's a private hunter gearing up, being briefed by an officer on the scene. He can't hear what they're saying, but given the hesitation it seems like they're both waiting for back-up. Either they think this is worse than it is, or they're simply being safe. Either way, it's under control. Aki trusts law enforcement. He always has. They don't need to go back.]

No.

[He reaches to hold onto Denji's arm again, still staring at the officer and the hunter. There's no need when someone else is there to take care of it. This girl he was with - she's probably fine. She has to be. Denji wouldn't let a girl die. She's probably fine.]

They're getting ready to take care of it. [He nods toward them. His voice is tense, a little on edge. Like he's holding himself back as much as Denji is. Like he would love to rush right back in there and blast every single one of them to pieces. Like he's itching to pull the trigger again and again. He doesn't look at Denji, only the officer. Because he can't. They'll take him straight back. They may already be planning to. The minute anyone sees him here and makes a connection to the gunshots, he's as good as gone. Again.]

Denji - Let's go. [This time he sounds pleading without any attempt to mask it. He looks at him with a tight brow and tighter frown. His teeth are clenched behind his lips, jaw tight.]

[If he goes back there, there's no way the two of them will make it out without turning the area into a firing range. He can't let Denji see that. Not again.]

You're not even — [ For a moment, Denji's eyes widen in earnest, as if about to plead in his own case once more. However, a single look at Aki's weary face is all it takes to keep him from running his mouth, to rein the words back in. At a loss for what else to do, Denji holds his gaze carefully, the same way someone might hold something fragile. The same way Aki's holding onto him right now.

Though he'd missed the unspoken exchange between Aki and the officer, last night's conversation had made one thing clear to Denji: His handlers have him walking a fine tightrope. Denji just hadn't realized how fine it was until now. And while Aki's out here doing acrobatics just to feel safe, all he's been doing is sitting from the stands and shoving popcorn in his mouth. Damn it.

Stowing away the twist of guilt burgeoning in his chest for later examination, he sheepishly averts his eyes and mumbles: ] 'kay. Let's get out of here.

[ It shouldn't be late enough that the subways have stopped operating, so that's where Denji starts to head. They'll probably receive some looks in their current disarray, regardless of whether they take the nearest one, not that he spares a thought to that kind of thing. Doesn't really have the energy to, anyway. His bleeding may have staunched at some point, but his head's still light and tingly from what he did lose — he'll probably have to hit the sack the moment they get home, maybe not even shower. Nayuta will complain, though… ]

Mind if we stop by the restroom at the station?

[Aki almost doesn't want to let go of Denji again, for some stupid, shallow reason. It's not even about keeping him close at this point. He recognizes how needy he's being. He came out here to hunt him down because of his own fear. He demanded Denji give up on looking for a civilian because of that same fear. It's so stupid. It's shallow and selfish. But even once Denji agrees to go home, Aki still holds on for a moment longer before letting go, following him toward the station.]

[Since they're able to walk, none of the medical people on scene stop them. He does see the nude people he saw before (now covered in towels) and projects that relief into thinking that must mean the girl Denji was with is fine. It's not like him to abandon civilians like this, but when it's between them and Denji, he finds he can't help himself. It's not like he's the one responsible for their deaths.]

[He looks up when Denji asks to go to the bathroom, just nodding at him before waiting outside the station restrooms. He thinks about how he had planned to show him how to cook salmon on a stovetop tonight. What a waste. It'll take too long by now - Denji is probably exhausted considering how much blood he probably lost. Maybe they can grab something in a convenience store on the way back.]

[Aki rubs his eyes and looks around the station glumly. Like any second someone is going to pop out and grab him and tell him he's lost his Denji rights. At least he knows he's alive but - No. He can't just go back after knowing he's okay. And especially not when he knows what he's up to.]

[Maybe Kishibe was right. Maybe they kept his status a secret from Aki for a good reason. It's hard to consider being sent out for who knows how long when he knows Denji is still alive.]

[ Denji’s not gone for long, leaving only to rinse the grime and darkened splotches of red from where they're most visible, as well as to peel some of the deadened skin curling at his back, the new flesh already seaming into place. He almost wishes Aki had tagged along to help him tear some of this shit off. That wouldn't have been weird, right? He's pretty sure he would have done it a year ago. He probably would have done it now, still, just looked all sad while doing it.

Then again, if he thinks about it, maybe the truth is Aki's always looked a little sad. There was just never a thing he could do about it, so it was better to not notice. Create a distraction big enough for both of them to forget. That's still something he lives by.

That's why, when Denji returns to Aki's side, it's to sneak up behind him and press a chilled can of iced coffee to the side of his cheek. He'd considered licking his finger and stuffing it inside Aki's ear, but found himself parched at the very last minute; Denji's other hand is squeezed around a can of tea. ]

Take this.

[ There’s a premature grimace on his face, one corner of his mouth twitching. He knows the next thing he's going to say is uncharacteristic of him, so… ]

And, uh, sorry.

[ He doesn’t specify for what. ]

[Aki is staring off into the distance when Denji approaches him from behind, thinking. His mind feels on edge, like at any moment everything will be ripped from him again. Maybe they'll actually try and pull Gun from him if he keeps this up. Maybe he'll actually die this time. Maybe they'll - ]

[The yelp he makes at the sensation of cold metal against his cheek is as undignified as anything. He whips around to see Denji there with a can of coffee and nearly smacks him up the head before stopping, staring at him. He looks...]

[...He apologized?]

[For what? he wants to ask, but doesn't. He reaches to take the coffee with a huff instead, still vaguely embarrassed by the sound he made. Stupid Denji.]

It's fine.

[He'll pretend it's for what he just did. Their train isn't due for a little longer, so Aki cracks the can open and takes a long drink. He can finish it before it arrives.]

...What does that devil like, that's easy? We can pick up something on the way.

[Never mind how late it is. Maybe she'll be in bed, but considering that she stayed up waiting for Denji the night before, he doubts it. Best to get her something that will put her in Aki's good graces, if that's even possible.]

And you need a bath. You smell like shit.

[Another long drink. It's his own way of caring, but he doesn't try too hard to make it obvious. Denji stayed out late two nights in a row. Who knows how often he does this? Aki hopes it's a rare thing, that he wouldn't do this sort of thing so often. That he would spend time trying to seek out that normal life. He knows it's not the case, but... Maybe, if Aki is there to pull him back, he'll find it. Maybe he can remind him life isn't all about sex and fame. Maybe he can remind him about the dream of going to Enoshima one day.]

[ Despite their volume, no one seems to pay them any mind. Just two friends, maybe even two brothers, fooling around.

He looks better this way, Denji thinks, his smugness all but see-through if not for his own drink tipping into his mouth. More alive when he’s flushed with annoyance and sipping from his stupid mud water. Not just the consummate professional that surfaces when he’s being a downer — well, he guesses Aki has every reason to be one, though.

That lopsided smile of his doesn't fade, even with the criticism; it's more or less the reaction he wanted from Aki. Something the same, something that isn't a grim reminder that they could part ways at anytime. ]

Whaddaya mean? I just cleaned myself up! See, good as new! [ Elbows akimbo, he rears his back to show him his handiwork, the tattered strips of his uniform fluttering. There are still specks of his blood here and there, like a spot behind his ear, but the tears in the fabric where his skin can be seen are unstained, reddened only from his scrubbing in the restroom. Of course, he still reeks from the perspiration. That hasn't changed with a two-minute splash at the sink. ] Lookin' as handsome as I always do.

[ All in all, he looks like a deranged idiot. His chin lifts with pride. ]

I mean, yeah, Nayuta will say something, but maybe if we get her nose plugs she can deal… She snores too much, anyway.

[Aki gives his work a once-over but still looks displeased. Not that he's much better - his sleeve has devil blood on it and his pants are muddied with something dark. They both look like pieces of work.]

Definitely need a bath.

[That's his non-negotiable tone. He sighs and downs the rest of the coffee.]

...You better not do this again tomorrow. I don't want to hunt you down again. Don't you know how - annoying it is, to wait for someone who doesn't show up?

[Scary. The word he cut himself off from saying was "scary."]

I saw some stuff on TV about you, too. That's the kind of life you want? [It's turned into a lecture, but Aki doesn't pull off the gas.] Doesn't seem like everyone's so thrilled with your "help." Seems like everyone just thinks you're some rogue devil.

[ If he were an actual dog, his ears would surely be flattened back against his head right now. In a plaintive voice, not precisely a whine but getting there: ] I was gonna show up.

[ He was just gonna get to go on a date, too. One that'd actually go well. Have his cake and eat it, the secret third option all heroes get. He doesn't care how skeptical Aki is that he is one. The year's been just as long for Denji as it is for him — and for the first time, he's given more thought to how he wants to live his life than ever before. ]

You don't get it. [ Denji watches the train glide in, tufts of his hair ruffling with the burst of air accompanying its arrival. His can, emptied now, smashes flat between his palms. ] This is everything I've ever wanted, the good and the bad. Not everyone loves Chainsaw Man, but the people who do — if they can love a rogue devil, they can love me, right?

[Sure, he was going to show up. By midnight, at the rate that was going. Aki gives him a withering look for the petty comment, but he's looking away by the time he says his piece about how great it is to be reveled and reviled.]

I don't know, Denji. [He tosses the can into a bin before getting on the train, looking back to make sure he's following.] I just think a quiet life is better than a loud one.

[A public train isn't the best place to have this talk, even if there are only a few other people in their car. Aki sits down and rolls up his dirty sleeve, as if it will hide the stain.]

...Promise me you'll come home right away tomorrow. [And before he can argue - ] No dates, no girls. Just come home. Alright?

[ Denji hides nothing: not the rags he’s dragging in with him, not his dissatisfaction with Aki’s answer, and certainly not the slight groan that escapes as he hears out the conditions stacked for him. Too honest in his mannerisms, even as he's in the act of surrendering.

From his seat, he stares sightlessly ahead at the train doors closing shut with a soft, mechanical hiss. The train begins to shiver against the tracks, sleeking past neighborhoods and industrial hubs. ]

Alright. I promise this time.

[ He does a silly thing, then; he holds a curled pinky finger out to Aki. He and Nayuta do this sometimes, usually when they actually mean something, like I promise to take the trash out or I promise I won't change the channel from the news anchor lady. In his eyes, it's more binding than an actual devil contract. ]

Something, something, I swallow a thousand needles, yeah?

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