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Denji's just beginning to inconspicuously inch apart from him when his dazed question prompts him to pause and consider. Then he turns, falling into a squat as he wiggles his fingers at the devil, coaxing him forward. ]
Uh, that's a toughie…
[ Cautiously, the creature approaches, sniffing at the curl of the proffered hand. Denji scratches at his squishy cheek, wanting to make sure he's relaxed, before he lifts the flap of his mouth, revealing only bitty fangs, the size of his fingernails. There isn't even blood staining them anymore. ]
He looked like he wanted to live, I guess.
[ He thinks about all those times he would press into Aki's side all nosily, wanting to see what he was studying, sure, but mostly wanting to steal a crumb of his attention away from the stuff that seemed to blizzard his gaze, blotting everything else from his periphery. Of course, when he would share his learnings, he was always focused on devil extermination, the standard tactics leveraged when engaging in combat, what competencies were expected from Public Safety hunters. Meanwhile, Denji's interests were more rooted in subject matter that didn't necessarily villainize devils, but observed them with the same impartiality as any other living existence on the planet, which were far and few between. But when he did get a lick of something like that from Aki, whose eyes teemed less with heat and hatred during, those were probably the only instances he actually enjoyed being taught.
Denji's expression softens at the memory. ]
Besides he's cute, don't ya think?
That's it...?
[Aki watches as Denji calls the devil over, just like how Power coaxes Meowy from the cabinets after something spooks her. It opens its mouth and Aki is expecting knives and daggers but all he sees are teeth the size of pins. He's not so stupid or fearful of devils to think they're all shaped like monsters and beasts. Hell, some of them look human, indistinguishably so, or so he's heard. But this strange dog with a chainsaw sticking out of its head... Denji really looked at it and thought that it wanted to live?]
[There's nothing he can do about it at this point. If he really did make that contract, it's not like he can just ditch this devil now. Aki stares down at the two of them, Denji with his hand outstretched and the devil sniffing it with its body cocked to avoid touching him with the disc of points coming out of it. He sets his jaw and finally steps forward, around Denji and leans down to grab the devil by the black handle protruding from its back, holding it up in the air in front of him at a slight distance. Staring it down with a sharp look, threatening if the devil won't threaten him first.]
If you ever hurt him - [He points to Denji, like the devil could pretend not to know what he means.] - then you'll be the first devil I kill. Got it?
[The devil hangs in the air with its back paws curled up, obviously unnerved and threatened by Aki's display. It barks like a dog, has the nerve to sound cute while doing so, and Aki looks back down at Denji.]
And you'll let me kill it, if it hurts you. Right?
[Two contracts for Denji tonight.]
It wouldn't, right?
Denji sorta knows about the formal intricacies of a contract due to Aki's lecturing, but as he makes eye contact again with the pebble-shaped devil, his body tensing with each passing second as he looks into those endearingly large, circular eyes, that little tongue hanging out as he pants, he realizes —
He doesn't know what a true partnership between a devil and human entails, whether that is mutual trust and partnership means, or just strict adherence to the terms they verbally agreed on, or something else he's not aware of. Suddenly, Denji grumbles something about toning down the whole intimidation act to Aki, though he knows that it probably goes unheard, his hands pulling at the devil's handle to whisk him away from the older boy's grasp. And with an obvious limp, he begins heading back in the direction of their apartment, not waiting for Aki, the dog cradled more comfortably in his arms.
…He obviously doesn't get very far, though. ]
Damn it.
[ Briefly halting to rebalance his companion to one arm, he lifts his foot up to pick off some the stray bits of debris. Just… Just carry on. Nothing to see here, Aki. ]
[Aki allows him to pull the devil away, though he still doesn't look at all pleased with what's happened tonight. This all started with a discussion about Denji thinking about taking a visit back to his home, back to see his family's grave. Then he ran out, made a contract with a random devil, and has the nerve to look at Aki like he's the one being unreasonable about how unhappy he is with the situation. He watches him limp away for a moment, frowning, but when he stops and adjusts his feet it's the first moment he realizes that Denji left his shoes.]
[He sighs heavily, his arms hanging beside him as he watches the younger boy carry the orange chainsaw dog with a stumbling limp. If they were closer to their apartment, he would make him walk the whole way as punishment for this whole night. But if he stepped in something and the walk back makes it worse...]
Come on.
[He motions for Denji to drop the devil as he steps up beside him, then squats down with the expectation that he'll climb onto his back.]
It can walk itself. Get on.
He turns his attention to Aki's back, studying the base of his waist to the rounded corners of his shoulders with a frown. Considering the amount of time he's dedicated to training, not just recently but these past few years, his ability to carry him back home isn't really in question here. Nor is whether Power will give him crap for seeing him dragged back this way. No, neither of those things are why he hesitates at first.
He's treating me like a baby, Denji thinks when he at last mounts himself into place, his arms hanging loosely around his neck, chin perching along the curve. He lets out a huff of air, like he wants to make it clear he's not happy about this (though Aki probably isn't, either, so whatever). This isn't the first time he's looked at him and felt a flicker of indignation, envy, that his own body hasn't firmed up in the same way yet. If it ever will. ]
Fine. Just don't drop me.
[Aki is probably the lesser happy of the two. When Denji climbs into position he hoists him up, locking his arms around his knees, crouching just enough that he can hold him without tipping backward. He feels the exhale of his breath right by his neck and stares forward, ignoring the reminder not to drop him. Then glances down at the devil.]
[It stares up in turn, looking less at Aki and more at Denji, he realizes. Is it worried? Aki can't tell. He starts walking and the devil follows right beside him, not behind or in front, but beside like a friend walking. It's strange. His eyes keep darting over to it, but it never leaves, occasionally looking up at the two of them, its tongue lolling out as it pants. He's carried Denji like this plenty of times, Power even more, so the act isn't that difficult. But when he feels wired with adrenaline and nowhere to let it discharge, his muscles feel locked up and the simple act of walking is like running an over-greased machine on gravel. He wants to grab Denji and hold him and Power close. He wants to kill this devil. He wants things to go back to how they were, years ago. Back when he didn't feel as much responsibility as he does now. Maybe this whole night could have gone differently, had he come home earlier, had he done it over dinner, had he brought Power into the room during it. Maybe he could have grabbed Denji before he ran off. Maybe he could have said it in a different way. Maybe he could have not brought up the whole topic. Maybe he could have walked back to the house together with Taiyou.]
[He pulls open the door to the apartment and sets Denji down, pointing him to the bathroom with a silent finger. He'll need to check both his arm and his feet. Power pops out of the bedroom, surveying the result of their apparent battle, but when the devil trots in after them she points and shouts, Meowy! They've brought you a foe! Aki glances down at the devil who stands in the genkan, panting happily in the warmer apartment before snaking around his legs to follow Denji.]
...Bring it in the bathroom. It can stay in there. [Do devils need housetrained? He has no idea. That was never covered in any of the books he read.]
Next, he moves on to survey the wide array of pre-packaged desserts, struggling not to reach for a tart, or a parfait, or one of those sandwiches with cream and fruit for the filling… Remarkably, he steps away with only a strawberry sponge roll cake and slice of cheesecake. He passes by a rack of plain bread and grabs that, too. The tissues are easy enough to find; he isn’t sure whether to get just a travel size or something bigger — does this guy whack off? Even if he doesn’t, he probably cries enough to go through an entire box of these. So he adds one to his growing heap. To be considerate, y’know.
Anyway, he reconvenes with Angel in time to catch his question. ]
I just gotta get one more thing — the booze over there. [ He keeps walking, pointing to where he's set for, expecting Angel to follow after him. ] Um… You’re like dinosaur age, right? Think that if you pull out one of your swords, that’ll work as ID or something?
Yeah, alright. [ He drags himself past Power, who's still curiously onlooking the exchange between them, and into the bathroom. The devil looks up from where he'd been sniffing at her toes, alerted by Denji's movements, scurrying to catch up with his skulking steps. ] I'll stay in there with him. Gotta make sure he doesn't crap on the mat or get scared.
[ It feels a little like an oxymoron to imagine a scared devil, but surely they must feel that away about something — like death, as he sensed from the little thing earlier when he was injured. If they can feel threatened or dread when in the presence of a concept foreign to even them, then it makes sense they would feel the accompanying fear.
The dog curls up in one corner of the bathroom, keeping an eye on Denji as he gives his bitten arm a rinse. He briefly parks himself on the toilet seat to finishing plucking the splinters from his feet, tossing the pieces into the trash. Shortly after that, he's back on his feet again, limping between rooms to move his blanket and pillow, mumbling his good nights to Power and Meowy who don't hear him because they're already asleep. The next time he crosses paths with Aki, if that's in the corridor or at the threshold of their bedroom, he glances at him as he moves by before too-hastily pushing his gaze forward. ]
…Night.
[...Oh, yeah. Younger people can't have alcohol. But Denji is carrying that same bunny girl magazine. That's okay but this isn't? Angel looks up at the rows of alcohol and beer on the wall.]
I don't want to do that.
[Pull a sword, that is. He has no interest in doing that for something this minor.]
I told you, you should have brought him with you... Why not get him a juice instead? [Angel likes juice.]
It's an adult way for adults to forget their adult problems! Duh! Juice ain't gonna cut it.
[ A couple of his items fall to the ground as Denji attempts to shimmy out Aki's wallet from his pocket. ]
But fine, if that's out — I think I have his ID. [ His wrist flicks, showing Angel the aforementioned card. ] Think we look close enough alike they'll think I'm him? I can always say that my hair was dyed when I took the photo.
[He's going to sleep in the bathroom... Aki really doesn't like that idea. He watches the way he picks splinters out of his foot for a moment before seeing Power head back to the bedroom, following her so he can briefly explain what happened. She's so unconcerned thanks to the time of night that she barely listens, keeps whacking him with her arms to shut up, but when he finally tells her good night and Meowy is curled up on her stomach, Denji is coming inside to get his bed and drag it out. He follows after him, jaw still in a tight line, and when he simply says Night like that's it, Aki slowly shakes his head.]
You can't take this into the bathroom. It'll get moldy. [He's ready to leave it at that, the expectation that he'll obey, but with Denji already standing there with his gaze dropped, thinking about how the rest of the night has gone...] ...You can sleep in the hallway, right outside. Okay? You can keep the door open.
[Compromise. He follows him to where he sets it down, then steps over it and into the bedroom.]
Sit down, and keep your feet out of the covers for a minute. [He goes to hunt for the first aid kit that he keeps out of reach of Power - one time she tried to decorate the house in bandaids and he hasn't trusted her with it since. He has to hop slightly to grab it.] And let me see your arm, too.
Wouldn't it make more sense to say you dyed it now? [But he raises his hands and plops them both on the back of his head, one fist over the other, to express a topknot.] You need to put your hair up, like this. They might buy it more. And you need to speak more like a grown up when you have to talk to them. [And he knows he can, since he's heard him speak nicely before.] Like how you talk to Makima. Talk like that when you ask for it.
[ He confusedly watches Aki just decide things on his own, his futon sinking flat against the ground as nice and deflated as his sails right now. He passes a hand over his eyes, like he's the one being put through grief, though he knows deep down that isn't true. A stolen look over his shoulder tells him the devil, too, has been arrested by sleep, quiet breaths leaving his small body in a stable rhythm. Peaceful, not really needing a protector at the moment.
After a long beat, Denji does as he's told, sitting and stretching his swollen feet flat across the sheets. The skin on the beds of his feet is red, stickily chafed, and peeling in places; in others, the skin is simply bubbled. ]
Make it quick, alright?
But — huh? Huhhh? I, uh… Okay! Sure.
[ Denji's brows raise, lower, and crease together as he mentally notes down Angel's suggestions for how to behave like an accurate Aki dupe. That doesn't sound too hard. There's an extra hair tie conveniently enclosed in the wallet, so he uses that to knot up a stubby bunch of hair. He tries to school his expression into something more tepid and unreadable, but he just looks cross and intimidating — basically, your stereotypical rebellious youth.
He looks at Angel for approval. ]
This look good?
[Aki passes Denji a frustrated stare at his words, squatting down onto his knees in front of him.]
You ran out in the middle of the night and made a contract with a devil. [He grabs at his foot and examines it without touching the sole before carefully peeling the chafed and splitting skin with a pair of tweezers.] I think I'm allowed to be a worrywart right now.
[Once his feet and cleaned with antiseptic and he's wrapped the soles in some protective tape, he goes for his arm next, brushing his thumb over the bite marks as his frown deepens. Once they're cleaned he only needs to press a couple small bandages over the wounds but once it's done he still doesn't let go, continues holding onto Denji's arm as he stares down at the twin bandages marking where he made his decision. How, maybe, if he had rushed out right after Denji did, maybe he could have stopped him. Prevented this. Again, someone ran away from him and he simply watched as a devil took them.]
It's not that I'm mad at you. [He's a little bit mad. But that's not the point.] It's just... You decided this so suddenly, with so little information. [He finally releases his arm, lets Denji take it back.] With everything else that'll happen next year... I need to be able to trust you.
Not really.
[But, well, it'll be amusing. So he'll let him try. Despite saying that, Angel walks to the cashier with their hoard of items and sets them down on the counter as he looks to Denji expectantly. The clerk looks like she would rather die than deal with anything that's about to happen.]
Tch, Angel abandons him to his own floundering devices before he can grill him for further recommendations. Whatever, what does some short-stack devil know, anyhow? Denji lives with the guy! Of course he can act the part. He adds a few rice lagers to the growing mass in his arms, then stiffly approaches the counter, his items knocking over a few of Angel's. ]
Uh, excuse me, ma'am! We're ready to check out.
[ Nodding, she smiles genially and begins scanning their items. Asks them if they want a plastic bag. Yes, they do. And if they have a points card. Also, yes. Anybody with a pair of eyes and some social acumen would be able to tell that the frozen smile she offers Denji throughout their exchange is in the name of the kind of forced friendliness expected of anyone working customer service.
Meanwhile, Denji stares the whole time. His cheeks tint a gentle shade of pink. This girl is really happy to see him. She's kinda cute, too. Maybe she likes him?
When it comes to scanning the beer cans, she pauses to ask for his identification. And though Denji has been internally rehearsing this part of the conversation in his mind for the past few seconds, he still fumbles with the wallet to brandish it. ]
…Here! Here it is. [ Alright, here goes nothing. ] My name is Aki Hayakawa. I'm a Public Safety devil hunter. I dyed my hair recently. Do you come around here often?
Except that by the time he's finished talking, it registers to Denji that he's been concentrating so hard on the feeling of the new callouses on Aki's hands, ones he doesn't recognize, that he hasn't learned a damn thing. He raises his arm, looking like he's examining the bandages, but really, he's staring at the place he'd been holding him. ]
I just don't get it. What're you so afraid of?
[ And was this blow out really that sudden? He doesn’t know the full canvas of how Aki’s past hangs over him, but for Denji, his clings like a persistent shadow — dark and amorphous, something that invites itself through the door without asking and then hangs in the back. Waiting for the right moment to bare its teeth, walk its cold fingers up his shoulders, and whisper boo in his ear. That’s what it felt like earlier. Not so much a suddenness but a matter of time. ]
I wanna help you. [ Which is part of the convoluted reason why he'd made the contract. ] But I dunno if I can do it your way… All that stuff about the trip and moving and being old enough — it doesn't make sense to me. [ Denji's bandaged foot nudges at his toes, soliciting his attention to say the same thing so many others have told Aki before. ] We're still young. We don't gotta do things the way grown ups do.
[ He considers adding, I mean, look at our folks. They're dead. But for once, he keeps his mouth closed. ]
[Angel watches from behind him, peering around his body to watch the clerk bag the items as she scans them and goes through her usual spiel. He watches Denji do his impression of a legal adult and end it with what he assumes is a pick-up line and turns his eyes to look at the clerk. She's still staring at him with that customer service smile but it's very obvious she doesn't buy it for a moment.]
[She says something about how she's sorry but she can't accept this form of ID due to the photo being so different. He's a little amazed at how good she is at shutting it down. The beer remains unscanned and Angel is ready to just leave it at that and watch the way Aki Hayakawa will react to this later, how he might even smile at it, or maybe he'll be upset at Denji for stealing his identity...]
[...But he also might really want beer. Whenever they go out for lunch or on the rare occasion they have dinner out, he always gets one of those, so he probably likes them a lot. Angel finally steps around him and holds out his own "ID" - there's no photo on it, it's just a small card that essentially says he's state property. But it's official and comes in a little plastic case and even has a stamp on it from Makima.]
He's telling the truth. I know, he doesn't look like that anymore... You know how it is.
[The clerk really doesn't look like she believes him, but she also looks extremely unnerved by Angel's approach and the card he holds out in his palm, even though they're separated by a counter. Angel just stares at her patiently until she finally turns and picks up the scanner and scans both the cans and Aki's ID. Angel pushes his card away.]
'Kay, now you have to carry it all. [Because he helped.]
[What is he so afraid of? What the hell kind of question is that? Aki stares at him with a tightly pinched brow, almost in disbelief at his question.]
[They all lost their families, one way or another. Aki has no desire to go through that ever again.]
I know we're still young. [He's painfully aware of that. He wishes he wasn't. It's so annoying to have any adult pat his shoulder and tell him, You're only seventeen.] But we know more than anyone that life is short. It can end in the blink of an eye. So even if it means it might not be as fun, or you might not get it now... I want you to trust me, that I'm saying these things not for nothing.
[He leans forward and stands up, taking the kit with him.]
I don't make that trip back to Hokkaido for fun, or because I'm supposed to. Once you understand that...
[He sets the kit back in its place, his eyes falling to look at the devil, fast asleep on its side. Its tongue lolling out as it dreams. Do devils dream...?]
...I just hope you will, before you start to regret that you didn't sooner.
[He leaves the door open and steps over Denji's bed, walking back down the hallway to the bedroom. He offers a brief Good night over his shoulder, then leaves that bedroom door open as well. Just in case.]
Taking the implicit blend of rejection, suspicion, and disinterest from the cashier in stride, Denji forks over Aki's credit card once she declares their total. Seemingly working based on rote memory now, she efficiently bags their items and runs the card, only stopping to verify whether he wants the receipt with him or in the bag. It's a relatively minor decision, but Denji shoots a glance at Angel's direction, anyway, before nodding toward the bag.
The temperature outside feels like it's dropped a few degrees since they were last there. Denji plods behind Angel, attempting to balance the weight of the plastic bags between both his hands. After a brief victory celebration in which Denji tries raising a hand full of bags out to Angel for a high-five, even if it only earns him a look or a sleeve-covered pat, he directs them toward a lit up taxi stand. The driver barely looks their way as they file into the backseat and takes his directions back to the apartment. Bags deposited at his feet, Denji leans over, a hand cupped over his mouth, to whisper: ]
Alright, here's the plan when we walk in! Play it cool. Act like you've been there the whole time. Maybe we can talk him into thinking that he forgot to take you back to Public Safety.
[ So… gaslight him? ]
[Denji definitely doesn't get a high five, only a slightly annoyed look from Angel as he leans away from him and hoists up the meat in his hands. He's quiet through the drive (he didn't think the cab driver noticed him but the glow lighting up the back of the cab from his halo causes the man to glance back through the rear view mirror a couple times that Angel catches) and uses the chance to pull the pants off from around his neck and push them into the bag holding the container of kebabs. He climbs out and looks around slightly at their destination - he's never been here before. It doesn't look that impressive.]
Why not tell him the truth? [He adjusts the bag in his arms and fluffs his wings out a bit. They got pinched during the ride.] Or do you not want him to know you were worried about him?
Is his compliance in this situation the only thing he can offer to them? Will he regret this contract someday? Will he regret clashing with Aki? Not being the ally he needs while he's still alive and kicking?
So many questions. If this were a midterm, he'd fail this one, too.
The night eventually fades along with Denji's consciousness. He drifts off as he usually does, but that's only because he can pretty much sleep anywhere and wake up all hunky-dory. Sometime, in the earlier hours of the morning when pale beams have yet to scar through their living room, he stirs at the feeling of something brushing against his forehead — Meowy, likely stepping over him to use the litter box, he assumes without opening his eyes. He falls right back asleep once the sensation has gone. Hours later, he wakes again, this time for good, to the racket of Power squawking her usual absurdities at the devil, her face up close and personal as she introduces him to the cat.
The morning is a bit busier but breakfast still manages to land on the table thanks to Aki, which is all that matters to him. Denji sneaks pieces of his food to the tangerine-looking devil when he thinks no one is looking. Of course discussion at the table veers toward his existence, and Denji reluctantly agrees to sit through a more extended conversation regarding ground rules later in the day when they're all home. Though a part of him wonders if Aki will even have energy for that. Come time to leave, his devil gets locked into the bathroom again despite his arguments that if Meowy gets to roam free, so should he, but Denji is shut down as quickly as he starts up.
And then they're off to school. While he and Power are in separate classes, they have a bad habit of texting all throughout the day. Stuff like their half-baked plans to stalk Aki whenever he meets the person who sent that confession (from his memory, the letter set a meeting time for after school), to telling each other the answers to their homework (incorrectly), to pet names (for you know who).
This explains Denji's messages to Aki, let's say, the period right before lunch. He's supposed to be paying attention during English right now. ]
hey…
what do ya think about the name tama or mochi for him
[ Him, also known as the devil they're housing. ]
powy said it fits cuz of his shape but i dont rly like it
[Denji doesn't get a reply until lunch, when Aki finally takes his phone out of his school bag. He heard it buzz (he used to keep it on silent until that time Power got her head stuck in a fence and called him ten times and he didn't see the alerts until someone came to get him) but ignored it because you aren't supposed to use your phone during class. When he pulls it out along with his lunch, his brow tenses at the message. He's going to name the thing...?]
Don't text during class or I'll take you phone with me again.
People don't usually name devils anything but what they are, so it would be Chainsaw.
[...not nearly as cute as Tama or Mochi, but it's not a cute thing. (It's kind of cute. When Aki went to check if it shat in the bathroom the previous night he watched it stare at him from the corner with the most blank, empty stare he ever saw.) He's never heard of someone nicknaming a devil.]
Those are cat names, anyway. Why do you think it's a boy?
[ It's said some measure of force, like the very suggestion of concern is something his whole chest disagrees with, and the quizzical lilt to his voice should tip Angel off that Denji earnestly believes this. Or, in other words, is earnestly unaware that he's worried. ]
Speak for yourself, I'm trying to get him to shut up so that I can sleep. I'm not — [ A flicker of discomfort passes over his face. Denji readjusts his hold on the bags. ] Not that other thing.
[ He leads them up a couple flights, swaying a little with each clunky step, given the sheer weight gathered in his arms. He doesn't really think he's being loud enough to wake any of their neighbors, though, so hopefully they won't have another complaint filed to the building superintendent so recently after their last one. At last, they stop in front of Denji's apartment. One of his hands drops a few of the bags as he undoes the lock and pushes inward. ]
Come on in. Oh, you can put the meat and stuff in the kitchen. It's right past the bathroom here.
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