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Still, the feeling of receiving it tends to make his ears flame up. Makes him forget that he was doing this to get something out of it, but now it feels like he's gotten more than enough. The gentle glimmer in Aki's eyes has nothing to do with how bright the lights are in their apartment — no, it's an unguarded expression of his Denji knows well. Possibly because he can never force himself to look away when he thinks Aki might be about to bring a hand up to his face, block of his view of what could be unshed tears. He stands at one side of him, grinning from ear to ear, inching closer to see. He's impatient for him to take that first bite, tell him he did a job well done, admit that he can rely on Denji, after all.
Power, on the other side of Aki, also presses inward to watch. Probably, she just likes to see him cry. Or maybe it's because she's aware of what's about to happen… ]
…Yeah. I tried really hard to get it right —
Gagging, he clings to the countertop as he hunches over, a hand slapped over his mouth to swallow the taste down. After a moment, a short belch rumbles from him. ]
Hurk… Hurgh… How could you…?
[ The accusatory question's pointed at both Aki and Power. ]
[Aki is still recovering, heaving in deep breaths and trying to pull the fridge open to find something to wash out the taste with, but before he can he sees Denji grab the edge of the counter, hand over his mouth, and he starts to panic.] Don't swallow, don't swallow, don't - !
[There's the gulp. And the burp. Aki feels pale as he looks from him to Power, who finally can't hold it in and roars with laughter, clutching her stomach as she mocks them both and their feeble stomachs, unable to handle her magic and witchcraft. Aki feels heat rise to his face. His cheeks red and eyes wide, it takes him a long moment to formulate anything to say over her laughter and cackles.]
You're - not going to the beach!
[That makes her stop on a dime, looking at him like he's insane. Not going to the beach? What is he talking about, it's a family trip, of course she's going to the beach with them. "Don't speak such foolish - " she begins, but Aki interrupts her.] No! You're staying here! You're - You're banned! From the trip!
[He has such little power over them at times that he has to pull out the heavy punches. That's what he tells himself as Power stares at him in shock, waiting for him to take it back. Because he always does. Not this time, he tells himself, hurrying forward to grab their mess of a food and shove it into the trash.]
So why does this winged devil keep worrying about it with that weird expression, when they both serve the same purpose? The same utility? ]
Dying's dying. It's… [ It's hard to explain, if you haven't experienced it yourself. But that's such a cop-out answer, he can't bring himself to complete the thought. Denji huffs. ] It tastes like nothing, dude. [ As he voices his thoughts, his mouth is all bloodied in pink syrup, red crumbs dotting his teeth. He doesn't bother wiping any of it away. ] Smells like nothing, sounds like nothing, feels like nothing. Haven't you ever been hurt real bad?
[ He's talking insides liquidized, throat ripped into a second smile. Happens to Power when she isn't careful, but squeeze a sack of blood into her fast enough and she's just fine. ]
It stinks at first, 'cause you're like, 'Ah, balls, where did my hand go? And my legs?! Ouch!' The good thing is, after awhile, ya don't feel the ouch the way you should. You know when you've standing outside in the cold for too long and your nuts get numb? It's like that. Then, you realize you don't feel anything at all, and stuff is going blurry, or dark, or white, I dunno, it depends — honestly, if you're not insta-killed, your head just gets really slow. Things are hard to remember.
[ But mostly… ]
When you're dying, it feels a lot like you're just waiting for it to happen.
[Maybe. Every breath is one step closer to death, after all, but it's not really what Denji means, he knows. His description doesn't sound pleasing, but it's also soothing to hear, that there's something final in it. Slowing down until eventually you completely stop. The slow, slow descent into nothingness. But one part keeps making him pause, enough to frown softly.]
I haven't.
[Been hurt real bad, that is. He's a defensive build, staying out of combat, but when he does have to he usually gets in close and kills in a single swipe. It doesn't take much, so it's not common for him to get more than a few scratches, maybe a few feathers missing. Makima didn't place him right below Kishibe in the power scale for nothing.]
[Does that mean Denji is more prepared than him? He's always though of himself as ready to die at any moment, no matter what happens. But lately it's harder. Lately he has to actually work more, put in more effort. Try to survive. It's not for himself, though. He's always been ready, always prepared to kick the bucket at any moment. Come what may. He doesn't care. But now that he's hearing how it really feels, how death comes slow and steady... Would that mean he would have to spend that whole time watching him, watching the despair on his face and the regret and the desperation to stop it again? Would he feel every second like it's an eternity, being shaken, dragged to safety, blood dumped down his throat? The issue is, he doesn't know. He's never been hurt bad enough to see how he would react.]
He told me he's sick of the people around him dying. That I should go somewhere far away if I'm going to.
[He's never discussed that with anyone, but it sits in the back of his mind at all times. Annoyingly, like a constant debate. Back and forth. Unending. Pushing the boulder up the hill, watching it roll back down.]
I wonder if it's because of you, too. Watching you die, even though you come back...
[A huff. Not a grunt, not a sigh - but not quite a laugh or a chuckle, either.]
He's so clingy.
Isn't… poisoning your brothers not just breaking a rule, but a real-life law? Murderer! [ Another burp. Ugh, he's really got a bad case of gas now. ] Gonna… report you to the police — later.
[ Later, because Denji chooses that moment to fall on his side and hobble toward Pochita. He needs something warm to use as a heating pad to help settle the boiling acids in his stomach.
In the meanwhile, Power stares at his fleeing form, mouth hanging open as cold sweat openly pours down her face. She's researched this for recreational enrichment before: Murder is punishable by death in Japan if the case is severe enough. It's true that Denji is a skin-and-bones weakling who can't even lift five pounds for five minutes without getting tired, but…
Suddenly, an idea bursts to her mind.
"Hmph, another prime example of your ignorance, Dummy Denji. What would you do without the Great Detective Power to deduce who really killed you?" Power jabs a finger at Aki. "The one who feasted with such gluttony and then splattered his fill all over your ugly face — 'tis he who murdered you!" It's certainly not due to the fact that he's the only other person there. "If I have to stay back, so does this criminal!" ]
[It's bad when they both get to the point of threatening the police on each other, but it's not often that Power claims Aki is the ultimate culprit. It's so uncommon because it never succeeds - especially not with the withering look he gives her, his eyes pinned on her as Power starts to instinctively shrink back to avoid a slap.]
You're the one who fed me this shit - And I bet it was you who came up with this! [Power immediately begins to insist that Denji put her up to this, but Aki knows that's not the case, because - ] Denji never wastes food! Look at this mess of a kitchen, you wasted a whole week's worth of groceries on this! [More sputtering about how she learned this recipe years ago and that they simply aren't trained enough to accept it.] You can't even make an omelet, let alone cook meat properly! Where did you even get this meat, I hadn't bought any ground beef recently at all...!
[After scoffing and telling him that she is occasionally offered sacrifices from the village and that this was one such offer, Aki goes from furious to confused to outright stumped. Someone from the building gave her spoiled meat? Did she take it from a trash can? Did Meowy or Pochita find it while outside? ...But he told them not to go outside today, and Denji was watching her, so surely she was inside. How the hell...]
[For now, he ignores her continued lecturing about the serfdom of the apartment complex they live in (she's the landlord apparently) and forces her into the kitchen to clean up or else she doesn't get any food at all. And when he unveils his purchases from the convenience store and Power realizes exactly what she might be missing out on... She deflates impressively, grumbling something under her breath about how his serf payments are being doubled this month. Aki ignores her and moves over to Denji, kneeling down next to him and setting a hand on his side.]
Where'd she get that meat from...? Did you guys go out today? [A bit of a warning tone in his voice as he asks that, even with the gentle hand on his side.]
After a moment, he sets aside his utensils, along with the baffled stare he'd leveled at Angel, shifting to dip his head in a kind of shrug. The placement of his shoulders landing at a slant, his cheek coming to rest on one of his palms. ]
…Yeah. That sounds like him.
[ Lukewarm agreement, like he doesn't care, despite the impatient twist in his gut that's dying to prod at what else Angel knows. What else Aki's told him, but not Denji — except for that one time that first day, a warning to get lost, and after that, never again. He's not sure that counts, though. It feels different, and there's a sorry part of his pride that would rather feign understanding, than admit to not knowing this side of Aki for some reason. ]
So you're gonna stop trying in front of him, then?
[ To die. To leave. To slough off life and go to that final sleeping place. Whatever euphemism or not, Angel wants to use for it.
Their server stops by to check on them, but Denji just waves them off, doesn't even ask for the check. They'll be back. ]
'less you want him to cling harder to you.
Not me. Or her, probably. [ He kept an eye on Power, of course, but he can't discount the possibility that she managed to creep outside his notice, what with all his excitement over the news today. It's unfortunate, but she can be quite the sneakster when she isn't loudly spinning her tales. ] She said — [ He winces at a cramp in his abdomen. ] Mnngh, somethin' about gettin' it from a lowly peddler and keeping it in her bag while we were out yesterday. So maybe she was tryin' to get revenge on us…? Ugh…
[ He's probably going to need to go to the bathroom eventually, but his stomach's still figuring out which bodily system it wants this strange invader to come out. But before that, there's something else pressing on him. ]
Didja really mean it? That Power won't be coming with us? She always goes where we go, y'know.
[ When it comes to big trips and transitions, that's always been the case. The three of them, together. Sure, he wants her arrested, but that doesn't mean he won't feel the teensiest bit bad if she gets left out of going to the beach. ]
I don't think I want him to cling to me any harder. I'd just end up killing him, myself.
[Passively, not purposefully. He drags another finger through the syrup and sucks it clean with a silent sound, still thinking.]
It's strange to be cared for, as a devil, isn't it. We aren't creatures that care for one another. So it was strange when he told me that.
[Ahh, he's not going to eat this. In a rare act of caring, himself, he raises his eyes and pulls the finger free from his mouth to ask Denji,] You want the rest?
[Pochita starts nudging at Aki's hand and he very nearly swats the devil away, still uneasy around him. It would be one thing if he only acted like a dog, but the massive powertool sticking out of his head and the way he's seen it spin to life has him always a little unnerved by the thing. Especially when he's squeezing through Denji's arms.]
Revenge for... Ugh, she's such a brat... [He raises his eyes to glower at her across the room where she's dumping things into the trash while muttering curse spells under her breath. She better not get rid of any of their cookware...]
[But when Denji asks if he was serious, he looks down, brow pinching. Yes, he was, in the moment, but now he recognizes he was just angry. Which, obviously, but... Should he really make her stay home for their first non-grave visit trip in a year? He frowns and sits down on the floor, still mindlessly rubbing his hand over Denji's side.]
...I'll figure something out, but she still needs to be punished somehow. And you can't arrest your sibling for feeding you bad food. [So that idea is out. Keeping his voice low, he mutters,] Maybe I won't get her an ekiben. Or make her sleep in the hall tonight. It has to be something she'll remember.
[But when he says the bit about the hall, he looks up and around, realizing the windows and sliding door have been left open. No wonder it feels so cold in here. He frowns and adds, mostly to himself,] Guess I'll turn on the heater...
Once Makima briefed them, Denji could barely contain her excitement, because — wow! A real-life famous person! Maybe she could give her free stuff and tips on how to walk in heels, or something. But she soon realized…
Emi-chan, the idol, was cute and delicate for the cameras, sweet and caring to her fans.
Emiri, the person, was driven, excellently media-trained, and scary serious about shaking off the tabloid focus on her after the incident, especially with talk show hosts and journalists alike beginning to dig up her past work history as a glamour model. She — not her manager, not her father — impressed upon them from the first day that this thing needed to be resolved quickly and with as little spectacle as possible. When Denji asked for an autograph, it'd earned her a sharp smile and a promise that a special gift was definitely in cards if they made sure her fan-turned-fiend died on their knees. Again, scary serious.
So they put their noses to the grindstone, or at least Aki did, and worked, disrupting another attack on the idol in time and sniffing out that her stalker planned to strike again the first night of her tour. Of course, security personnel was packed all over the complex, but somehow they'd managed to slither their way in through the crowds of concertgoers and vault onto the stage during the opening track. Instruments, LED lights, sound equipment, all of it tore ear-splitting notes of cacophony through the air. From the moment she and Aki stepped in to when the fiend finally dropped dead, bloodied and legs lopped at their knees, slumped in a slop of their own fats and acids, the audience seemed to eat the show right up, ignoring yells to evacuate the area.
Afterwards, when they were back in Emi-chan's dressing room, making a pit stop to nurse the worst of their wounds, her stilettos clacked across the red-tracked floor in a hurry to personally thank them before she would have to be ushered out to provide a statement to the news outlets. Denji, tattered from the head-to-toe and slurping from a blood pack poked through with a bendy straw, interjected immediately with, "Hey! Where's my special gift?!"
To which Emi-chan paused at the door frame, chuckled into a fist, and swung around to peck them both on the cheek. Leaving behind a smear of lipstick on opposite sides of Denji and Aki's faces. Instantly, heat splashes her face and drums inside her skull, the pressure of Denji's embarrassment threatening to create a spout at the top of her head. "Take whatever you want from in here~ ♥ Consider that my gift. You, too, Miss Hayakawa."
Which explains how Denji winds up shoving an entire bottle of perfume into her pocket and hefting a mysterious garment bag in with her into the bureau. They're there to finish writing up their report, much to her chagrin. Sitting hunched over at Aki's desk, because she technically doesn't have her own being part-devil, she scratches her scalp with the eraser end of her pencil. Her lips purse. ]
So do I have 'ta include in my report that another girl made out with us? I really don't want Makima to find out…
[But being rewarded with a peck on the cheek and a suggestion to take whatever they like from her dressing room - It's not like she even wanted a reward other than the reward of having killed another devil, but it's still kind of annoying. This is like private sector level work.]
[She didn't even know who Emi-chan was before this whole thing. Aki doesn't follow idol shit.]
She didn't make out with us. Don't use words you don't know the meaning of.
[They're not supposed to smoke in the offices anymore but she's ignoring this rule right now, puffing on a cigarette as she speaks. Having Denji around to help with reports when the idiot can barely write her own name makes her want to ignore every rule in Public Safety. Because one of the rules is you can't beat the shit out of your junior, apparently.]
You need to add in whatever you took, too. Even if it was a gift, it needs to be reported for bribery and corruption records.
[She pauses. Looks over at the mysterious bag sitting in the corner of the room.]
What did you even take...?
Inexplicably, it's this sentence that triggers a special switch in his head, one that shoots a memory through him too fast, too clear, it blinds him to everything else, like a gun flashing, a bullet hitting its mark. Denji, shoved to the ground as Aki partitions himself between him and that scaredy-cat girl's knife. The pained cringe rippling out the other man's body as steel dug into his rib cage, but still there was a sharpness to his gaze, sharper than any bladed point — stupid commitment. Dumbass conviction, in only the way heroes in action anime are ever able to get away with.
And yes, he'd thought it'd been strange. That another human could hate him so much and still want him to live. Maybe not for the same reasons Aki had wanted Angel to live, but it'd still… cracked a door in him the slightest bit open. He's not sure how else to describe it. ]
Yeah.
[ He says, finally, as he rakes a spread hand across Angel's plate, strings of sugar dangling from his wrist as he lifts it to his face to lick up. Copying the way Angel had delicately caught the syrup with his mouth without drizzling it all over the tablecloth. Obviously, Denji's less successful at this. ]
That guy's a strange one. Cares too much. Should be careful about who it is he's being nice to. But I think when he dies, that means a whole lotta people will show up during that, uh, sad people thing and cry, the way he always does about dead people. It's called a funeral, I heard…
A funeral, yeah. [How much longer? Two years? Two years, and then maybe he'll get to die, too.]
[What a depressing thought. He sighs and leans back against his seat, staring morosely up at the ceiling through his halo. Waiting for one person to die so that no one will be left who cares about you. Humans truly do deserve to die slowly and painfully, for all the trouble they're worth.]
Well... Maybe at his funeral, you can be the one to kill me. Since you're apparently the only one who won't get hurt doing that. [So there's something to look forward to. Dying here the same way he remembers dying there. Or at least, in a similar vein.] Just go vuun-vuun and make it quick.
[ The endless motion of Aki's hand actually does help to soothe his unsettled insides. His throat bobs as pockets of gas exit and pop in another series of burps, and that really feels nice as some of the discomfort in his stomach alleviates. ]
If we can't put her in real jail, what about fake jail? You know how psycho she is. It's gotta be by her made-up rules, or else she won't even see it as a punishment. So if Powy put a spell on our food, that makes her a witch. And what happens to bad witches?
[ He sneaks a look at Power, who appears to be tying the the opening of their trash into a knot, then pitches his voice down into a whisper. ]
They get burned at the stake!
[ Or at least that's what remembers happening in a western movie he watched once. ]
Basically, it's just playin' with her. But she'll treat it like it's the real deal, 'cause she's a weirdo.
Denji, on the other hand, considers the prospect of killing him with only vague distaste, not because he's opposed to it — he thinks he could do it, can't think of any reason why he wouldn't be able to — but because, well, isn't that kinda too lovey-dovey of an idea? ]
Eh? I don't wanna.
[ Not looking at Angel, he wipes his moist palm against the tablecloth. ]
So as soon as the dude you're living for drops dead, suddenly you can't go on or something…? Why do I gotta play the part of reuniting you guys in the afterlife? [ A soft snort. ] Plus, that'd definitely piss off that guy and make 'em come back as a ghost to haunt me! I'd have no privacy to jerk it anymore! Talk about the worst case scenario…
[ The server returns shortly, placing his change on the table, then departs again to tend to another guest. Stuffing his money into a pocket, he starts to get up. Lead them out. ]
If you want me to do that, you'd have to gimme somethin' real good to pay me back.
[Actually, that sounds just like him. Angel frowns, closing his eyes loosely. Pay him back... What could he even offer that he'd want? His frown deepens.]
It's not like I'm living for him, but...
[But he can't explain it. He's keenly, uncomfortably aware of the fact that his death might actually matter to someone now and that feeling is disturbing. He's a devil. No devil nor human should care if he lives or dies. But that human might cry if he gets torn to shreds. And that's...]
[He sighs, looking down again as Denji gets up. Great, they have to walk again...]
The only thing you're interested in is sex, anyway... I can't think of anything else you'd consider "real good."
[Aki doesn't love playing along with her delusions, but unfortunately he knows Denji is right. If they don't play by her tune, she won't actually internalize anything he tries to teach her. And this is kind of a big deal. You can't feed people rotten meat.]
How do you suggest we burn her at the stake, then? [He's also keeping his voice low, leaning down to talk to him. Like this is some secret meeting.] Make her put her ankles up to the floor heater...? I don't want her to actually get burned. [She can't be arrested for feeding them bad food but Aki can probably be arrested for hurting her. Double standards.] Maybe we can hang her upside down for a few minutes.
[ Denji's not one to get into character for the roles Power tends to arbitrarily assign him to. He's not an actor. Doesn't really know how to be anyone other than himself. But if it's to wreak justice on his mischievous little sister, then, sure, that's as worthy a cause as any. ]
I think if we tape a flashlight to Pochita and make him spin in a circle, that should look fire-like enough, right?
[So they are burning her at the stake. This isn't really how he planned to spend his evening, but he also thought he'd be eating dinner right now.]
[Speaking of. Passing a look at Power (which she responds to with her own pout), Aki gets up to grab his bag and find the convenience store food he bought. He definitely doesn't trust her with that, and instead brings it back over to Denji, offering them out to let him pick what flavor of ramen he wants to eat.]
We can do it after she finishes cleaning up. I read something about how you're supposed to do something neutral after you punish someone, so she can eat dinner afterwards. [He read that in a book about problem children that he found maybe five years ago, but it probably works for Power.] I think if we tie up her ankles and I flip her over, you can grab the rope and pull it over the top of the door. [So long as Denji doesn't let go, this will work fine. No concussions.] ...And let's leave Pochita out of it, in case he does something weird.
…But really? Angel can't think to even draw inspiration from all the places Denji's taken him to so far? Each location was technically related to his interests… Movies, games, food. Although, yeah, if there were a boob store he were old enough to get into, he probably would have taken Angel there first. He's a pretty simple guy. Still, he's not going to spell it out for him.
If Angel's serious about dying after Aki's gone, he'll find a way — either to convince someone else, if not Denji, or end things on his own. ]
It's gotta be something super impressive, [ he tells him, glancing from one side of the street to the next before crossing. ] Not you're regular ol' jam you can get from the market! I'll tell ya that.
[ Denji pauses, for a moment, as they reach the other end, looking around. They haven't been walking long, but it looks as if he's inadvertently led them into a residential area. Hmm, he pulls his phone out. ]
Uh, hold on, lemme check how far the karaoke place is.
[He stops when Denji mentions that, surprised. They're going to karaoke? Did he forget that was part of the plan?]
[Probably, somewhere in the fog of today. After everything else that happened - first the movies, which was exhausting in its own way, then...]
[...Hold on. Can he still touch him? Or did that wear off? Without any sort of preamble or permission asked, he reaches out to touch Denji's arm again, pressing his palm over his skin and waiting for a moment. But yet again, just like the ten other times he's touched him, nothing happens.]
...Something like that would be possible, with you.
[The realization comes slow. Never before has he seriously thought about his inability to have sexual relations with anyone, but being in proximity with the guy who seems to have that running as a background track in his mind makes it too easy to think about. He says it has to be super impressive, and wouldn't that be pretty impressive?]
How far is it? [He leans over to look at the phone, but the glint from his halo makes it hard to see the screen.]
'kay.
[ The different flavors peel out of the bag as Denji sets each cup aside. Any of them would work usually, but he settles on one that has "original" printed on its packaging. Something boring that hopefully won't unsettle his stomach any further. ]
But I'll hafta find somethin' long and sturdy enough to wrap her up. You gotta keep her distracted until then. Remember: You gotta play her screwed up games to make it work. Didn'tcha act in a play that one time? Just pretend you're doin' that again.
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