windfall | what i desire most, what i fear most

[ 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?

[...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.]

[ Denji is also a huge fan of juice. However… ]

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.

[Ooh. His government identification card. Even Angel doesn't get one of those. There's no way Angel will pass as human unless someone is seriously visually impaired, but Denji... It's a possibility, he thinks.]

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 lowers his knees to gather up the dropped items, making vague confused noises all the while. ]

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?

[He literally looks insane. He looks like he's here to rob the liquor rather than buy it. What's more, he looks nothing like Aki Hayakawa.]

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.]

[ Not really…

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?

[Whoa. He's really doing it.]

[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.]

[ Well, he's not going to argue against that.

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?

What the hell are ya talkin' about?

[ 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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