windfall | what i desire most, what i fear most

Yeah, that Hayakawa guy told me just this morning. [ As well as any other day. ] How'd you know?

[ He doesn't even let Angel answer that one, his expression twisting a bit, as if an abrupt realization punches him square in the face as soon as the words are out of his mouth. Earnestly, before he can hear any wrongful conclusions drawn about him: ] I wipe, too, by the way. It's Power who doesn't!

[ Somewhere in the city, a certain blood fiend drinking from an emptied tin of wet cat food pauses in her slurping from an to sneeze. The stray cats she'd been sharing her meal with eye her. ]

Anyway, it's not as cold, right? With that thing on.

...I guess not.

[It still smells weird. It's not the smell of balls or shit, just Aki Hayakawa's smell. Learning Power doesn't wipe doesn't suprise him. One time Aki complemented Angel on his flushing of the toilet after using the bathroom and he couldn't help but wonder what kind of image of devils he had thanks to the blood fiend.]

Are you really gonna buy all that stuff you listed? I heard people say that he cries a lot, you know. [Seems like a waste, in other words.]

Well, yeah. [ He stares forward, distractedly, at the remaining stretch of road, as if calculating how much longer they'll have to keep walking. There should be a store not too far from here, and afterward, they'll probably have to hail a cab back. ] You already came out all this way with me, so why not?

[ …Well, Denji's not without his selfish reasons, either. He wants to see the flash of shock and gratitude on his face when they get back at him being able to plan and execute this super secret thing right under his nose. Not to mention, from being able talk his partner into tagging along, too! Then he'll be able to get a good night's rest, wake up to some grub, and Aki might even smile at him a bit. That might be nice. ]

Since he cries way too much, we gotta get him a buncha stuff to keep him from crying for at leeeast a month. Maybe two months! Plus, he's your partner. Isn't it easier to work with him when he's not all mucked up in the head?

[That totally tells him he's going to get saddled with carrying stuff. What a nightmare of an evening and he's not even asleep yet.]

He's always kind of mucked up in the head. [If it's not one thing, it's another with him. He's either upset about the world or upset about all the dead people in his life. Or upset that Angel isn't doing something or other. Man, that guy never stops being upset, it sounds exhausting.]

I can tell when he's had a fight with you or the blood fiend. [Very easily.] ...But I can tell when he had a nice, quiet evening at home, too. Even his topknot looks a little peppier.

[He pulls his sleeves over his hands. It's not too crowded, but when they enter a store, he always does this by habit. Once done, he looks at Denji to deliver his conclusion.] I think you affect him more than you realize.

[ "Angel looks pretty funny like this," is what Denji's distracted expression seems to transmit as he listens to the devil, watching his hands shrink inside his sleeves the way he imagines a turtle's head would retreat inside its shell. Travel up, there's his neck swathed by the trousers. Pan in behind him, and then, like the cherry on top of this lukewarm strawberry sundae — his wings. The clerk will probably still let him in, right?

But when Angel finishes positing his deduction, Denji stows that thought, along with his amusement, away, to look down at him from the narrow bridge of his nose. Gauging. ]

…I think you sure pay a lotta attention to him.

[ It's not accusing, just his own drawn conclusion set side-by-side with Angel's and his strangely clinical breakdown of his observations of Aki's behaviorisms. Truthfully, he's not sure what to make of the idea — that Aki takes all the crap that happens at home with him to work, that it can dictate his day and his performance. The dumb and inconsequential, the restful and carefree. It makes sense that it'd have some influence because, like, they live with each other. But that's nothing special.

Feeling awkward, he rubs at his neck and begins to continue leading them back on their way. ]

The same could be said about work, right? Like if there are days where he's able to chill out, it's only because the job wasn't too shitty for him. And stuff like that only happens when things are goin' good between you and your buddy.

[Angel doesn't accept or refute the observation. He can feel Denji staring at him kind of intently, but he brushes it off as the idea that maybe he's actually thinking about what he's said.]

[But he shrugs when he brings up the idea of work affecting him in turn. An endless cycle. Wouldn't he know about that.]

I don't think he ever has days when he relaxes at work. ...You've seen him.

[It's part of why their partnership is so strange. Strained at the same time as it is productive. It's very weird. Leave it to Makima to put together the laziest and most fastidious members of the division.]

It's not like he wants comfort from me when he's in a bad mood. [Nor would he offer it. Not really his jam. He definitely doesn't care at all about human suffering. Almost as an afterthought, he adds,] But I guess he doesn't really want it from you, either...

…Of course he doesn't.

[ Hunched forward, fists shoved into his pockets, he kicks at stray pebble in his way. One of his hands plays with the flaps of the stolen wallet. It kinda is cold out, he thinks to himself, perhaps forcefully, to keep himself from putting too much thought into the conversation at hand. ]

Good thing, too, because I wouldn't hand that sorta thing out for free. I'm not runnin' a charity for sad saps here.

[ And yet, look at both of them risking their hides and Aki's hard-saved earnings to do just that. Who knew hypocrisy could be so heartwarming. ]

And I'm not sayin' he relaxes at work. Work sucks! Anyone who loves work is a dumbbell. I'm sayin' that when nothing happens, when stuff goes well, he brings less of work back home with him.

[Angel hums. Like he sort of believes him but sort of doesn't. There are good and bad days, sure, but it's hard to tell when it comes to Aki Hayakawa. But the days when he comes in after dealing with a Power attack or Denji playing a prank on him in the middle of the night... That's way more obvious than the sudden flash of pain in his eyes when he sees Angel with his arm ripped off.]

[He decides not to think about it and instead stops suddenly, turning his head to look across the street. There's a vendor on the opposite sidewalk at a cart of kebabs of beef and pork. Angel stares openly at it before looking towards Denji, expectantly.]

Maybe he wouldn't be so depressed if he had more meat in his diet.

[Just an idea. They could even test the meat to see if it's good enough.]

[ For a beat, Denji just returns the look, uncomprehendingly. The guy's usually pretty balanced about including protein, grains, and vegetables in his meals, what is he talking about…

And then belatedly, the unmistakable waft of cooking skewers hits his senses, which is a kinda funny sight to behold because his eyes immediately bug out at the scent of food. That's right, he hasn't gotten to have his usual nightly snack yet. ]

Oh! Yeah! Maybe he would. [ … ] But you're carrying this bag.

[ Denji drifts toward the cart without even bothering to look both ways to make sure there are no incoming vehicles. There are only a few people ahead of them waiting in line. It wouldn't take that long. Plus, the glaze on the kebabs look really good. ]

[See, this is why Denji is smarter than Aki in some ways. Aki doesn't let him cross the street when there are no cars and instead makes them walk all the way to the crosswalk. Angel follows after him and looks a little relieved he's convinced Denji to give him a small break after a grueling five whole minutes of walking.]

[Even though he can tell the guy manning the cart knows he's a devil and looks a little freaked out by the sight of him (or maybe it's the get-up), he doesn't try to conceal his nature and instead holds up three fingers and looks to Denji expectantly. Like he said, no money. Denji is his bank for the evening.]

[ This thread is definitely going to be a repeat sequence of Angel looking at Denji, Denji looking at Angel, and then Denji looking down at Aki's credit card in his hand, because that's basically what happens right then. Except for one thing: He holds up four digits in front of Angel's three slender ones (again, as dangerously close to touching skin like the last time), beginning to pull the plastic rectangle from the wallet's sleeve, but comes to an abrupt halt when the street vendor shakes his head. Tells him they only take physical money.

Denji blinks down. For one reason or another, there isn't any in the wallet. Maybe he dropped them earlier or maybe there was never any in there first place, whichever the case, he grumbles as he starts pulling out a crumpled assortment of coins from his pockets and slams it down in the man's awaiting hands. As they're walking away, he tucks a block of meat between his teeth, dragging the the piece off the skewer: ] This is pretty good.

[ It's kinda chewy and overcooked, but Denji can't really tell the difference between a bad skewer and a good one. He peeks Angel's way. ]

Hey, quit draggin' your feet, we're still gonna walk and eat, alright?

[When Denji looks back to him, Angel hasn't moved an inch. He stepped aside once he had his three requested skewers as Denji dug around for money in his pockets. He's contentedly beginning on his second one while standing at the edge of the sidewalk and only turns his head when Denji speaks to him.]

No way. I need a break.

[They've walked like two blocks.]

Besides, that human always says you're not supposed to walk and eat at the same time. It's bad manners or something. [Not that Angel specifically cares about that, rather it's a convenient gotcha when he manages to get Aki to buy him food. He takes another bite and sighs, mumbling with his mouth full.] This is way too good...

Haaah?! Excuses! We've got places to be, you lazy ass devil! [ He wrenches another bite from his skewer and then swings its tip out to point at Angel, nearly jabbing the charred stick into his chest. Sure, anyone with at least one eyes and partial vision intact could be able to tell Angel for a regular human, but should Denji really be announcing what he is in public? Probably not. But he keeps going. ] Chicken wing devil! Slug bones dev — gghk!

[ Almost as if karmic retribution for calling Angel names, the piece of meat he just tore off without chewing properly lodges itself right where his esophagus begins. His face reddens the more he tries to breathe around the obstruction. Hoping the force will knock it out of place, he hits a fist to his sternum, to no avail. He could maybe gesture at Angel to help him, but eh, even halfway to passing out from a lack of oxygen, he's not fully convinced the guy would pick up on the cue. Or ignore it in favor of finishing the rest of his skewers. ]

[Nothing Denji calls him is any worse than what Aki calls him, so aside from the epithets being a bit more creative, Angel doesn't respond or seem fazed by them. At least until...]

Hey... [Is he choking? Oh god. For real, is he choking? What do you do when a human is choking...? He has no idea. Can't he just spit it out? Should he cut a hole in his throat? Mostly he's concerned because he's pretty sure this would ruin Aki Hayakawa's day even more than it already is if he dragged Denji's lifeless corpse home and asked for some blood to bring him back with, but he's also realizing he doesn't really know what you're supposed to...]

[Suddenly his eyes light up from a memory. Smacking someone in the back because they swallowed a bone while eating some fish. He can't place where the memory came from, where he saw this occur, but he remembers the smack to the back clearly, a full, five-fingered slap. Standing upright he moves the few steps over to Denji and, after securing his sleeve over his hand, smacks his back hard just once - but honestly Angel's definition of "hard" is more like a teenage girl's who has never lifted more than schoolbooks. He takes his hand away and leans forward to look at him.]

All better?

[ Choking is probably up there on the list of easiest ways to go for Denji. Like, after the initial knee-jerk retaliation of his body trying to squeeze air back through to his windpipe passes and that pleasant airiness hits his head before he loses consciousness, arriving at death is like rowing a boat through still waters. He doesn't know when his knees give out, but they do, landing with a thump as the whites of his eyes begin to show, tears leaking from strain of trying to breathe; some of the onlookers buzz with concern, wondering if they should intervene, but Angel's curious appearance seems to be enough deterrent. Damn, Aki's probably going to be so mad he died for not chewing before swallowing the way he's always telling him to —

And then he feels a weight driving into his back. While not exactly forceful, it's enough for the offending piece of meat to cough out, rolling against the sidewalk and picking up dirt. Denji's eyes flutter as he intakes one long inhale, or two, or three… Please stand by.

When his vision finally clears, it drops to the meat he'd choked on, gross with spit, plus the bag of skewers he'd dropped. Casually, as if nothing just happened, he reaches over — his hand moving past the bag, that's probably still fine, and picking up the cut of meat. Then, dropping it back into his mouth, this time his jaw opening and closing in exaggerated movements as he properly chews now.

After a moment, his gaze drifts toward Angel, as if he only just now heard him. ]

Huh? Oh, yeah. Thanks.

[The bite of meat spits from his mouth and he starts making breathing sounds again. Angel steps back, eyebrows raised. So that's how that happened? Huh. He watches by the sidelines as the few people who seemed worried for Denji's life disperse while he's on the ground heaving. Then he watches as he reaches out and snags the offending piece of meat and eats it again.]

[And Aki Hayakawa has the nerve to call him gross...? He lives with someone just as bad. Angel's eyes travel toward the plastic bag holding the take-out container and he sighs quietly, leaning down to pick it up with hooked fingers. Fine, he'll carry it.]

I don't really wanna pull that cord again. [As close to Can you please not die as Denji will get.]

[ What…? Bent over, patting the dust from his knees, Denji looks at him like he added a top hat to his getup. As if he didn't just say something perfectly reasonable. ]

Whazzat s'posed to mean? [ Eyes rolling down to his chest, the starter cable nothing but a barely discernible bump under his shirt, his hand claps down on the spot. He gives it a fond little pet. ] You're saying that like I want your guy germs all over him! [ Pochita, that is. ] Not a chance in hell, man.

[ And there it goes. The main point flying over Denji's head as per usual. ]

That wouldn't have happened if you'd just walked with me to begin with! [ He huffs. ] So you done eating, or…?

["Him"... An interestng way of putting it. It opens up more questions about what, exactly, it is that he remembers hearing in hell, but Denji of all people won't know what he's talking about, so he decides against asking. Angel pulls off the last pieces of meat and places the empty sticks into the bag, nodding as he chews. Part of the joy of chewing is getting to relish the taste. Denji would understand that if he slowed down to eat. Him stopping or not, he still would have choked.]

Yeah... [He carries the bag like it weighs way more than it actually does.] How much farther? Are we going all the way back to your neighborhood? [He doesn't know how far they commute but the idea of taking the train is kind of a pain. They're convenient, sure, but he's never liked them.] You should have just brought him with you and made him carry everything.

You're outta your mind if you think he woulda gone for that! The same way he would have told me not to come pick ya up.

[ Plus, Aki would have put hard parameters for what and how much they would be buying! It'd be like bringing a rain cloud out on a walk with them. Having that stressful back-and-forth would render the whole purpose of this excursion moot, from his perspective. ]

Relax, there's a store somewhere… around… [ Denji leads them jogging across the street and past another corner, where the comforting glow of convenience store lighting stops right at their feet. ] Yeah, here we are! What'd I tell you? Then we'll track down a cab and call it a night! I won't have to hear you walk and whine anymore.

[Well... Maybe. But maybe fresh air is good for him, he considers arguing. It's not worth it, since the time has come and gone. He's not here, and they can't go back in time and change that. So he follows along as Denji runs through the street, not even bothering to match his pace, but he looks a little relieved when it seems he's found his destination. At least there's that. But what he actually comes to is...]

Just a convenience store... [There are hundreds of those! They could have gone to one in the very opposite direction that was much closer! Ugh. Still with the pants draped around his neck and holding the plastic bag on his fingers, he stares at Denji with a look of disdain. He's such a strange thing, traipsing through the city like this so late at night for a simple convenience store.]

Well, get your list... [He heads inside and out of the cold. The convenience stores closer to the bureau recognize him and don't freak out but not so at a place further away. There's no panic but without a uniform he definitely stands out. And the pants don't help with that.]

[ Denji has his list from their text conversation open, evident from the brightness of his screen. But he isn't looking at that right now. ]

This one's the best — better than all the other convenience stores combined!

[ The reason? Their selection of xxx mags are top-notch. Whether Angel follows him to the extremely well-hidden stand or simply leaves him to talk to himself, Denji pulls a book from the display and gives it an indelicate shake… ]

See, check this out. Wha-cha!

[ …The cover unfolds to reveal a long, fold-out poster of, you guessed it, models in bunny outfits. ]

Neat, right? Doubt that prude ever showed ya this.

[He took him all this way just for pornography... Angel stares from Denji to the magazine, the random woman dressed as a bunny. Bunny... A bunny...?]

[Then it looks like he figured something out and Angel's expression sinks with a sigh.]

Is that why you told me I look like a bunny? Is that the kind of thing you like or something?

[So weird... No wonder Aki Hayakawa is so miserable all the time. He has to deal with a teenager who is sexually aroused by rabbits.]

…Ahh? Uh… No?

[ Denji's jaw falls ajar, his gaze flitting frantically between Angel, who's face is soft and round like a rabbit's, certainly, and the seductively posed woman in a tuxedo-bunny suit. He kinda has a point, that showing him this is pretty incriminating, but… that's not… he wasn't… ]

I said you looked like a bunny 'cause you look like one. This lady, um… like, her costume's hot, right? Has nothing to do with her wearing bunny ears or whatever! She could be wearing a nurse outfit or a turtle shell or something…

[ Yeah, this isn't working out. Hurriedly, he shoves the magazine back on the stand. ]

Ugh, forget it. You wouldn't understand! [ His phone's gone dark by now, but a few taps at his phone screen brings the grocery list back open, which he holds in view for the two of them to glance over.

air flryer
strawbry ice cream
jam
bread
cake
tissues
booze

…Right. ]

Okay, you take the top three! I'll find the rest.

[A turtle shell? Does he just like animals...? Huh... There's a whole magazine for it, too. Maybe it's just a thing humans like, like the maid outfits he sees sometimes when they go to certain areas of the city that Aki Hayakawa walks very quickly past... Angel can't take their tissues for obvious reasons but he's always been a little curious if there's something special to them.]

[But now he's being assigned half of the shopping list and nods without putting up a fight. Only doing half is better than doing any of it. Although... The air flyer is something he'll ignore for now, since it's bound to be the heaviest. He heads for the ice cream first and picks out a cone of strawberry, but figures more is better and grabs vanilla as well. But if it's just a cone, it might not be as good as the whole cartons, so he grabs one of those as well before heading to get jam, studying all the various flavors before selecting strawberry and blueberry, which he feels is a good variety(?). Satisfied, he carries his hoard over to the kitchen goods aisle but no matter where he looks he can't find an air flyer. There's a hand mixer and a mini toaster oven but the closest he can find is a frying pan. After debating for a moment if this is similar enough, he takes it off the rack and then moves back through the rows to find Denji, everything cradled messily in his arms.]

Are you all done? I found everything. [He didn't even go crazy in the candy aisle.]

[ Without Angel there to unfeelingly stare as he makes awful decisions, Denji returns to snag that very magazine volume he shoved away just now. Somehow it feels better not to have witnesses.

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?

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