[ The disappointment of having his belly rub ended when Power got a much longer one is short-lived. With the disappearance of Aki's pillow, the side of Pochita's face abruptly drops to floor, startling him awake with a sad little dog sound as his eyes blink open. On behalf of the devil, Denji glares at him, scooping him up in his arms to bring him to his side of the futon. ]
Watch it!
[ Do jerks get overtime pay or something? Geez… ]
Alright, I won't bring him to school yet. [ He's not sold on the idea that Pochita is fully useless in a devil attack. Like, what if he could communicate with the other devil and make it go away or something? Some test trials need to be run here. Plus, he's got a badass chainsaw thing coming out of his frontal lobe. His pet has to be way more useful to have at school than Meowy. ] I'll wait until we're both stronger and we can protect each other.
[ And then he won't need Aki to worry over him anymore. Won't have to feel bad about holding Aki back either. He can leave Denji, launching himself fast and far for wherever he wants to land.
Denji's chin tucks into his chest as he lays back down, arms circled around Pochita perhaps a bit too snugly. The devil-dog doesn't make a sound, though, only looks at him, then looks down at the gangly arms hugging his body tight with an expression he's never seen on an animal's face before. Something caught between surprise and an unspeakable warmth. Pochita snuggles in, drifting immediately to sleep.
He waits for the devil's breaths to even out to reach his hand over to Aki's bed, pinching at the edge of his shirt. He's not sure if he's still awake or not, but he murmurs: ] Hey. Until then… can you look after me a little while longer? I'll try to not be bad…
[By the time Denji reaches out, Aki is mostly asleep, laid on his back and breathing slowly. Like always he hums when he feels something touch him, used to being woken in the middle of the night, his eyes still closed. Power is snoring quietly, but he can still make out what Denji mumbles.]
[He rolls onto his side to face him, eyes still closed as he reaches over blindly to where he imagines Denji's head must be to pat it carefully before letting his hand settle between them. He mostly just patted his face, though.]
Not going anywhere.
[He's probably said those exact words to him countless times, and he'll probably say them again in due time. They're easy to say because he believes them, as easily as he believes devils are meant to be destroyed and laundry dries better on a clothesline than in a dryer. He falls fully asleep after that repeated promise, not thinking about the devil that separates them.]
[He thinks he's done a good enough job getting him ready for the make-up test. Promising to let him go out and take the devil for a walk in between successful practice tests seems to help, as does the repeated promise to get him a reward if he passes beyond the promise to let him come with him when he trains. Anything to keep him actually studying. He sits through classes that day staring through the blackboard, barely taking note of anything happening and trying extremely hard to make it seem like he's not worried. He'll do fine. He'll remember the formulas and he knew pi up to six digits last night. His foot keeps tapping the floor to the point that he feels his seat neighbor look at him and forces it to stop. But then his pen is tapping next.]
[It's not that it's some hugely important exam. But if Denji can't even pass this, then how is he going to be able to trust him to keep up his habits next year...?]
[When the day is over he heads downstairs to wait at the first year shoe lockers, watching the departing students and waiting for him to show up. Tense and stone still, he can tell some of the other students look at him with trepidation. An over-bearingly over-protective sort.]
[ Incentives can only spur him on so much. At different intervals leading up to his exam, Denji's motivation spikes, dips, and plateaus… It's the word problems that trip him up, having to parse out irrelevant details from the actual values he needs to use for his formulas — anything that makes you use both reading comprehension and mathematics is a party foul. His teacher might be hot, but he'd be willing to send her off with flowers or something if she ever got served with jail time. Still, they get through each study session, which Power happily asserts is thanks to her interrupting the session once in a while to remind them to take enough snack breaks (that she can enjoy the vast majority of).
The day of, he plays at cool the entire morning, stuffing his face with more food than usual. And yet throughout each passing hour, he can feel sweat gather at his pits and bleed through his uniform. He gets yelled at during P.E. for trying to run around the track while carrying his study book. Failing isn't what he's scared of; he's already failed once before, right? So there's only going up from here!
…Except he starts losing his head whenever he imagines Aki's disagreeable presence looming over his shoulder, eyes dull with premature disappointment. Is this the so-called test anxiety devil he's heard whispers of?
Come time for Denji to take his exam, he — well, he arrives in a daze. Sits down. Waits for the test material to land in front of his face, and when it does, he sets to work. He gnaws on the end of his mechanical pencil. He scratches his head, stabbing numbers into his calculator and hoping something close to the right answer appears before him. He uses his eraser enough times that the paper looks smudged and crumpled once he finishes, but he does finish. His exam enters his teacher's hands, and it takes her all of ten minutes to pass him back his grade: 77. Scribbled in all red on the front page.
Bag slung haphazardly over his shoulder, he slowly navigates through the halls with a dim look in his eyes. Forgetting the need to put away his school shoes, Denji nearly passes his adoptive brother by entirely, if it weren't for the timing of a few rambunctious guys in his grade running just short of barreling him over as they dash out the entrance. ]
Ah! [ He checks over his shoulder to make sure no one else is stampeding behind him. His eyes twinkle when he spots Aki, regaining some liveliness. ] Oh, you…! [ The fatigue from actually having to use his brain hitting him all at once, Denji sways a little on his feet as he reroutes back to him. He shakes the test, still clutched in his hands, way to close to Aki's face. ] Look, I'm a certified genius! Should I get my IQ tested next?
[Nearly, Aki calls out to him, but he stops when the two other students come rushing through. When he looks back to see Denji spotting him, what he worried was exhaustion in his features seems to be gone and instead he looks - cheery? Is he cheery? And then his test is shoved into his face and Aki blinks, trying to pull his hand back to see the number more clearly.]
[A 77... A 77? That's not a 44? It's a 77? Over a 70? Hell, over a 75? Aki openly gapes at it for a moment, his quip about getting his IQ tested completely missed.]
You - You did so well. [What the hell? Why is he so surprised by this? Why was he seriously preparing for the lecture he was going to give him? Aki tries to shake off the shock, but all it does is downgrade it slightly into overly-visible relief.] You seriously got a 77... That's great, Denji.
[He sounds like Denji just told him he won the Nobel Prize. It kind of feels like he did.]
...Oh - What was it you said? Strawberry cake? [He finally drops his shoes and slips them on. He still looks like he's in a bit of a fog from the surprise.] You still want that? Or something bigger?
Right?! I kept asking her if she was sure, since she coulda gotten whiplash all of a sudden and thrown in an extra 7 on accident! And when she said that didn't happen, I asked if she was just being nice, 'cause she's got a crush on me…
[ It goes without saying that she instantly rejected that notion, though.
Following Aki's example, he stumbles over to his cubby to remove his shoes. Once done, Denji looks at the test again, thinking over whether to shove it deep into his pocket like he would gum wadded up in its wrapper, but instead, he unzips his backpack and slips it in. Careful, for once. This one's going on the fridge. As they sedately make their way out: ]
Um, um… Whaddaya mean something bigger than strawberry cake? Like two strawberry cakes? Three?
[ He may or may not be imagining a three-tiered cake with sparklers and fruit and sprinkles and chocolate drizzle all up the wazoo. That's so big! Even if they cut it in half, he's not sure it'd fit in their refrigerator. Not to mention… ]
I thought were saving and stuff. For the move.
[ Plus, Pochita. Plus, the trip, which is still to be decided right now, seeing as they haven't raised the topic once since Denji ran away from home. He likes indulging and getting spoiled. Even feels a little entitled to it because he did so well on his exam. But that doesn't mean he's unaware of how tight their finances are. ]
[He just wants more cake...? That doesn't sound right, and when Denji reveals his worry about their savings, for once Aki shakes his head at him, even looking annoyed that he's bringing it up. Like he isn't constantly sitting over his hand-written spreadsheets with the grocery receipts.]
It's already fall. There'll be jobs for harvesting and logging again soon.
[...But there is the case for his trip, sure, and that he wanted to include Denji's trip as well. He's not about to bring that up right now, though. He may be a pain in the ass, but Aki isn't going to start that discussion again so suddenly after he just did something good.]
Just forget about that - If you could have anything, what would you want? [And interrupting him before he can think to answer with it, ] And you can't say something like "women." [He is not renting his adoptive brother a prostitute for getting a C on a test.]
[ Well, if he's telling him not to worry about it, then…! ]
Wome —
[ But seeming to predict the flight path his mind was headed on, Aki interrupts him. Sets his one devastating condition. What's wrong with women? And Denji was thinking of something more innocent than a straight up prostitute, like getting his help flirting with a classmate or going to some themed cafe.
Denji scrambles to find alternatives, though, his arms crossed behind his neck, head tilted to look up at the clear sky, as if he can see his desires take shape there. ]
I wanna go to the hot springs. [ With that girl on the basketball team. ] I wanna eat sushi. Or a crepe! Or maybe a parfait… [ With that girl who's always assisting the school librarian. ] Wanna get fed each bite. [ …By a cute girl. Any girl. ] Wanna, uh… I wanna… Hm.
[ Everything he lists basically indicates that he wants practice going on a date. Except for one thing, one idea that strikes him with no warning, but makes all the sense in the world to him — ]
Hey, hey! How about this: We skip school for a day together, hitch a ride on the train, and go to the beach!
[Hot springs...? There are hot springs up north, maybe he can factor that in to the Hokkaido trip...? How much do hot springs cost to stay at? Is there a cheap one they can do, like a bath house or something? But Denji moves on before Aki can get too deep in those thoughts to things that are much easier to obtain. Sushi, crepes, a parfait... And to be fed each bite... Uh... He's not really interested in doing that, but...]
[But then out comes his plan, for them to skip class and go to the beach. Aki raises his brows high, nonplussed as he walks silently beside him. There are tons of students in their school who skip and Aki considers them childish and not understanding the greater picture. No, when he skips, his reasons are just. Mostly to surreptitiously work odd jobs, writing out doctor's notes for Fridays so he could work a three day weekend. Or calling in sick to recover after a long weekend of stripping down recycled goods.]
[...But why has he never skipped and not done anything like that? Because it would get him in trouble? Is it easier for him to tell himself it's okay if it's something like work, something "productive?" But this is productive, the devil on his shoulder argues. Making sure Denji relates good grades to a reward is productive. But he shouldn't be encouraging Denji to skip, rebuts the angel on the other shoulder. It's already hard enough to say why his skipping is okay versus why the students he judges when they pass by the arcade and see them slumming in their jeans and t-shirts are not.]
[...But it would be nice to go to the beach.]
Fine.
[And before Denji can celebrate, he makes his terms clear.]
But you have to promise to get over an 80 on your final. Got it?
[ There's a lot that Denji says he wants, or has convinced himself he'd like to try doing, but the reality is that he's easy to influence. Perhaps he'd lodge his usual complaints and try to launch an appeal if Aki counter-proposed with a different idea altogether, but given enough sweet talking, he could theoretically be persuaded of most anything (excepting certain obvious caveats). In fact, that's precisely how he's anticipating this conversation to go: They have their usual back-and-forth, Denji spitfiring every impossibility that sprouts to mind, Aki shooting each one down — and it'll all blend in with everything else passing them by. The rumbling traffic. The last symphonic cry of whatever dumb bugs are still around. Someone's parent reminding their kid to not let go of their hand as they cross the street.
The voice that answers Aki is scratchy, predisposed to aggrievement: ] Man, seriously? It wouldn't kill ya to do somethin' other than work yourself to the bone — wait, what'd you say?
[ Fine… Fine? Did he just hear — ]
…You mean it…? You'll go?
[ It hasn't yet registered that he'll have to work at least ten times as hard for his next exam afterward, but Denji's never been great at that sort of forward planning. Forget about while he's still reeling. ]
You'll have to go swimming with me. And get buried in sand, and, and — do, like, other touristy stuff!
[ He doesn't want Aki to back out or anything, but he has to make sure he knows what he's signing up for here. ]
[The way Denji immediately gets ready to fight him on this shouldn't make him laugh, so Aki controls it down, only letting out a snort. He lists all the things he wants to do like they're warnings, stuff he's going to hate or something. But he's never gone to the beach with them alone. He thinks they went when they were in that orphanage, maybe once or twice as a sanctioned trip since they were closer to the sea there. But here...]
It'll be an hour or so on the train, you know.
[Can Denji even sit still for an hour? But that does go along with his demanding for "touristy" stuff. They'll definitely be out of this small town.]
We'd have to get up early and come home at a decent hour. I'm not going to spend money on a hotel or something, so long as you can promise to make it back to go to class the next day.
[Which means a full night's sleep, per Aki's rules.]
So long as you can promise those things, we can do whatever you like.
[ It happens quick and unplanned, the suddenness with which he pushes Aki into a narrow back strip off the street, out of sight of any passersby who might cast judgment. Then, as tight as a sailor's knot, Denji's arms crush around his waist, the side of his face pressed firmly into his chest, uncaring of any annoyance his actions may spawn. Denji's not so short anymore that Aki can comfortably rest his chin atop his head, but he bows into him to force the fit, anyway, nose digging into his collar. It's almost territorial, how he keeps nuzzling in, like he knows there are only so many years left where he can keep getting away with doing this. ]
I won't fall asleep, not once! I'll take all my notes, I'll eat all my veggies, even Powy's, I'll help with the cooking more often, and, and, uh — I'll train him. I'll train Pochita to be good.
[ Breathing in a string of air, he pulls away with a pronounced step. Honestly speaking, he doesn't want to let go, but he's attempting what Aki's been asking him to do all along: grow up. ]
[Being shoved into the nearest flat surface so Denji can rub his face all over him like a dog scenting its new toy is nothing new to Aki but he still groans with vague annoyance when he starts doing it anyway. He presses his cheek into the top of Denji's head in an effort to get him to stop rubbing so hard that he'll chafe his neck and keeps repeating, Alright, alright, alright. Not actually doing anything to get him to back off or stop, just dealing with it until it's over.]
[When he finally steps away, Aki straightens his uniform with a long sigh, dusting off a few blond hairs that got stuck to his front as he looks at Denji. He looks way too pleased with himself right now.]
I don't think you'll ever make me not -
[There's a pronounced thud before Aki can finish the thought, followed by a squelch. In the thin alley between apartment complexes, something dark fell from the roof and is dragging an injured arm behind itself. There's a definitively inhuman noise coming from the thing despite the vaguely human shape and as Aki feels his breath catch he sees its eyes alight on both of them and the light from the end of the alley reflects to show the injured arm it's dragging. It's in a black sleeve, the cuff wrapped with the same blue band as their own uniform. And it's still attached to the body the devil is dragging. That was the squelch.]
[Aki reaches to Denji and shoves him from the alley, out toward the way home.]
Go! [He's right behind him when the devil lunges, slamming itself into the wall against where Aki was standing, stunning it long enough for them to get a good head start as Aki grabs him by the wrist and yanks him along with him. Hoping that the shove was enough to give him a good enough head start.]
[ Here’s what happens, or at least as much of what Denji understands happens, his awareness moving like a frame-by-frame stop motion movie: He’s beaming up at Aki. Talking about their trip. Something nice being within reach. He thinks Aki’s expression might just be softening into a mirror of his own. The next moment, he’s stumbling back, the rubbers of his shoes sliding. He can barely see what's got Aki's scared and shouting at him, can only smell the pungent stench of decaying flesh, but he's turning, anyway, because he sounds serious, so that means he should listen. It's not fast enough. His limbs suddenly feel heavy and in the way, like someone's shot him with a tranquilizer, and it doesn't help that he keeps looking back, trying to keep his eyes on Aki, trying to make sure he's right there in step behind him.
That's his second mistake. His first was not bothering to tie his shoelaces back at his locker.
The taste of rust pervades his mouth when his chin slams into pavement, his only clue that he bit down his tongue in the process of skidding against the ground, dirt and sidewalk grit scratching into his skin. It's only as pain flames up his palms, his arms, that he feels his brain working correctly, a kick of amphetamines speeding up his system, his mind racing as he pushes up from the ground. ]
What… What the freak was that?! [ Denji shouts with little regard for who or what he may accidentally capture the attention of. If anything, he hopes it might be help. ] What're we running from — Power!
[ She's up ahead, leaned up against the side of their apartment building, holding a bag of snacks from the convenience store. Hearing her name, she looks his way, a haughty grin pushing up her lips. "Fools! You thought you could escape from — eh? Denji, you're bleeding." ]
[Denji goes down and it's like life goes into slow motion for that moment. Aki grabs him under the elbow to hoist him up and shoves him forward again, watches as his feet stumble and blood drips off his chin, the heat of his arm that scraped into the pavement. He can hear the heavy movement of the devil behind them and he can't stand the intense fear grappling him right now. The overwhelming sense of dread, of loss, of terror. This isn't how it should be. He shouldn't be scared. If he's going to be a devil hunter, he can't be scared. He doesn't have a way to fight right now, no weapons or advantage and one person to protect. No, two. Power is up ahead. Time speeds right back up when he sees her.]
Inside! [He barks it at her the same time Denji does, again shoving him forward to try and make sure he goes to the apartment, climbs the stairs. It's like the devils' presence is magnified the more scared he is. The sound of its movement, the shake of the ground as it clambers after them, an inhuman groan. He dares to look back and sees, past the devil on the pavement, the prone body of the other student and his eyes widen. He recognizes the boy. He's from his class.]
Go inside - Go inside! [He keeps pushing Denji forward, grabbing him and dragging him and shoving at him to go in front of him. Their door isn't strong enough to stop a devil. If it follows them up the stairs, he doesn't know what will happen. What about the devil inside? It'll just be eaten as well. It's too weak to do anything to help. Totally useless - He can't let this thing follow them upstairs. He can't possibly let it destroy their family.]
[Another shove, this time up the stairs to the apartment behind Power, and then Aki lets go of Denji. He knows there's a call box two blocks down. He can make it - He has the endurance for it. More than Denji, for sure. He's been running laps for years, he can outrun this devil, its skin falling off and steps like a drunkard, sloppy and uneven as it chases. If he can hit the alarm, maybe he can save all of them - his classmate and Denji and Power. He just has to make it down there.]
[ Power seems taken aback by their distress for a split second, a glimpse of horror reflected in her eyes when her sights sail past them. Lands on the shambling figure hot on their trail, then the unconscious body it drags in tow, a weight that only really serves to hinder its strides. But that's the thing about devils. They never know when to let go of a free meal.
Swinging up the staircase, she fumbles with her keys to get the entrance unlocked and pushed open. She holds the door wide for Denji as he uses the momentum from Aki's shove to run up after her, his heart slamming up hard against the protective tissue it wears, pumping in overdrive. He’s toddling on the edge of blacking out, he can feel it, knows that's what the cold tingles blooming at the side of his scalp is telling him, his vision overexposed and saturated. Fear seizing control of his command center, jamming buttons and pulling levers just to get him spilling through the door frame, not even all the way inside. Power has to drag him in by the pits of his arms to get the door kicked closed, but he's wrenching away from her, throwing himself back at the handle. To get it back open. ]
The door! Open it! Aki’s still — He’s still coming up —
[ Power cuts him off, bluntly explaining that she noticed him head a different direction. Denji stares, feeling galled, feeling lightheaded from the revelation that Aki's doing something so fucking risky. Alone. Like he isn't a kid who's face pinches when he has too much sour candy, who gets misty-eyed whenever he and Power plan a surprise for his birthday. Stupid, stupid, so stupid.
A wet nose nudges into his hand. Pochita. Breathing out shakily, he calms somewhat, and feels an instant squeeze inside the left side of his chest as he gathers the devil inside his arms. Lets his expression fall once his face is safely hidden in his fur.
Usually, Pochita would snuggle into the hug, but this time, he wiggles and struggles in his hold. Turns, so that his tail is furiously smacking the side of Denji's cheek. He tries pushing the thin cable out of the way, but Pochita just reorients himself again and the same thing continues — it's annoying. He generally feels connected to the devil-dog, able to read what he's trying to communicate and vice versa. So why can't he understand he's having a fucking crisis and now's not the time for playing? Growling in frustration, he tugs at the tail, pulling, not hard enough to hurt, but to tell him to knock it off.
But that's when he hears it, the mechanical purr of a combustion engine igniting. Kick-starting. Pochita's eyes blankly widen, the saw jutting from his head pulsing to life. Denji jerks back, but doesn't let go of his tail, nor his back handle. ]
Uh, Pochita?
[ "Waaah, a valorous weapon — Meowy! Your turn!" Power shouts, reaching for her cat, but Denji ignores that part. The word weapon echoing in his mind. Weapon. That's exactly what they need. Power can't stop him in time before he's out the door, Pochita's small form still vibrating in his hands. He frantically follows the trail of rags and rotted skin that'd come off from the devil, realizing that he's being led to the neighborhood call box. His stomach doesn't feel right, belabored by pain and panic, but he forces himself to keep going, running, yelling. ]
Hey, you, face rash! [ Face rash, in reference to the way the thing's inner jaw is fully visible, revealing stretches of decomposed muscle and molded teeth. ] Get away or — or I'm gonna mess you up! R-Really bad!
[He's nearly at the call box whe he hears the sound of Denji's voice, breath coming out heavy and gut punched with so much effort and fear that he almost doesn't think he's actually hearing him. But the sound of the devil's movement slows, just a bit, enough that Aki dares to look back when he's only a few feet from the alarm. He does a double take, grabbing the box and whirling around fully to stare in shock and horror at Denji, standing there with that useless devil in his arms. Holding it like it's a real chainsaw. He breathes heavy, eyes wide and full of fright, then seems to snap to awareness and slams the alarm button on the call box. The siren sounds and begins shining light, drawing the devil's attention back around to Aki who rounds the box to face it. Boxed between two teenagers, it has the sort of expression of someone who just got an extra slice of cake at the company party because they stayed late to help clean up. Extra effort made worth it.]
Denji - Get out of here. [He slowly lowers his bag to the ground, dropping it at his feet as he prepares himself. He was going to run up a tree or something and hope that the devil couldn't climb while he waited for a hunter. That plan's out the window.] Go back -
[But then the devil is moving, suddenly, like it's attracted in some way to the devil in Denji's arms. Or maybe it just sees an easier meal. It lunges toward him like a drunkard toward a barstool and Aki jerks forward to aim at it, sends his body tackling into the devil to make it stumble and flail on its feet before it smacks Aki out of the way. His head snaps to the side at the hit but he ignores the rush of vertigo, getting back on his feet while he screams at Denji, ] Go back! Go back! [all while attempting to launch himself at the devil again to distract it from the combo meal it's aiming for.]
[ Denji can see it now: He could listen to Aki, pivot on his heel, leave this fight to someone who might stand a better chance than he does. He could believe that as soon as he makes a run for it, Aki will, too, that he'll dodge and wheel around to join Denji in his flight out of there. The authorities will arrive. They'll save the passed out student, or maybe the student will die, Denji's not picky about that part, but the rest of their town will be safe, and the two of them will make it home to Power opening the door for them. And then the door will close, the door will stay closed, the door will lock, and this will just be another story he'll forget. One where no one really got hurt. Nothing really changed.
But here's the thing Denji sees beyond all that: The unsteady look in Aki's eyes from the whiplash of being tossed back with the ease of a rolling tumbleweed. The unbalanced lurch in his step. The fear in his voice that's making the devil's grin widen and stretch as it begins to drag the limp body in its grip, swinging the boy at Aki like some crowbar it found off the ground. ]
Pochita.
[ Woof! comes his answer. Instant understanding. That's right, Denji thinks. There's never been any going back.
Denji's not as fast on his feet as he could be, but he does have the advantage of proximity. He's close by enough to barge in between the opening of the devil striking out, feet sliding with a precision of a batter speeding from base to base around the diamond, dust kicking up. The devil doesn't cough around the cloud, though, doesn't even howl as it falls back, its arm disappearing behind the roar of iron cutting away at flesh and bone, spraying pieces of both in a fanning arc. The arm severs, and the student drops like a sack of cement against Aki's chest, rotted hand still clinging to him.
He glances back at the two. That's about the only thing he has time to do before the devil is trundling forward, reaching for him with the arm it has left. Teeth gritting, he charges straight ahead into the devil, feet digging into the dirt to keep it from bowling him over, hopefully to give Aki enough time to roll out from under his classmate. His cheek pressed up against its breast, Denji plunges Pochita into its torso, twisting him, as blood jets out from the wound, misting his face and obscuring his vision. ]
[Toppled over by the weight of the other student's body crashing into him, Aki falls flat on his back and struggles to get out from beneath him. His head is singing in pain and it feels like something just rattled free in his skull but he can't think about that - Because what the hell is that sound?]
[He thinks it must come from somewhere else, someone across the street doing lawncare or something, before he sees a splash of blood cover the ground along with the arm. The student falls into him fully, his whole weight suddenly keeping him down, but over his shoulder Aki watches in shock before blood splashes onto his face. He scoots back and tries to get out from under the sudden weight. When he finally stumbles to his feet and wipes the blood out of his eyes, his vision is still blurry enough that he can't tell what he's seeing. But even if he could, it's doubtful he would understand the image before him: Denji with the little orange bean of a devil, its chainsaw head slashed into the center of the other one, its arm chopped off as it hangs with blood spilling between them both. And all while a chainsaw's motor roars.]
Denji - [Aki stumbles forward, nearly slipping in the mess as he tries to grab for him, tries to find him in the mania. Why is the devil standing so still?? Is it getting ready to hit them harder? Charging up for something? He has no idea, and combined with the harsh whirr of a noise and the alarm coming from the call box he can't get a straight enough thought through to figure this out. His hand finds Denji's arm and he pulls, trying desperatley to get him free. Because surely the devil grabbed him and not the other way around. That much he can understand.]
[ When Aki succeeds in displacing him from the devil, Denji staggers a few steps back into him, falling, breathing in and out so fast it's like his breaths are competing with each other. Pochita whimpers, worried, but otherwise unhurt and still reverberating from the blade down. The same can be said for Denji as well, externally. But his panic and the painful pump of his heart are another story, his free hand clawing at his own chest, trying to push the seizing down, like trying to pinch the flame from a lit wick, except this one's a fuse set for combustion if he doesn't calm himself down. ]
Aki — [ He coughs and a fresher red than what he's covered in hacks out from his lips in viscous globs down his chin. His own blood. Pochita drops unceremoniously to the ground, and Denji winces. Apologetic for not having the strength to even keep him held upright. ] M'chest hurts.
[ This is normal, really. Whenever Denji pushes himself too hard, he'll experience dizziness, sudden hemoptysis, heart palpitations, stuff like that. This is always what happens. With some patience, this whole thing will go away — but the timing's bad. The thing, the zombie is still standing, still trudging toward them despite its body being in worse shambles than Denji's, like a strong compulsion is driving it. One that's not its own. ]
Go. [ Weakly, he shoves at Aki, urging him to leave, but the strength of it is no better than a puppy pawing at someone's knee. ] Take that guy and go away. Pochita will protect me, so you don't hafta… S'part of the contract.
[ Denji's not a good person. Between the unconscious student and him, he wants Aki to choose him over and over. Without thinking, without blinking. He wants to mean the most to him, but he knows that the future Aki has in mind for himself means just as much. If not more. ]
Devil hunters are coming. So it's alright. I'll be alright.
[The simple image of Denji with blood on his lips nearly short circuits everything else inside of him. Aki stares at him with eyes as wide as saucers, terror flooding him. The devil is bad enough. Denji's own body reacting to the stress is even worse. And he has the nerve to tell him to get out of here?]
[He can hear the zombie still shuffling toward them but he doesn't care. Pochita seemed to weaken it enough and he's still standing upright despite the drop so he has to assume the little guy can walk. But even if he couldn't, Aki doesn't care. He's bolting forward to scoop Denji in his arms, hold him tight against his chest as he carries him like a bride, rushing down the street and away from the devil with harsh breaths. Running with him is nothing like carrying him last night, his arms screaming, his chest aching from the way he was hit by the other student, thrown into the ground and knocked around like a piece of plywood. But adrenaline is stronger than pain and he runs like he's in the final stretch of a marathon, eyes still wide and fear still flooding him like a torrent of rain. It's only exciting the devil and he can hear it lumbering after them, slower than before, and he's not even sure where he's going but away when he suddenly hears a horrible chomp like a dog, the splatter of blood on his back.]
[The sound of the dragging footsteps is gone and Aki dares to look back, going completely still at the sight. A fox head with more eys than he can see, surrounded with dust and fog. Hurrying from the midst of that smoke is a man in a black suit, saying something to the massive head before it vanishes into the same smoke, leaving only a sea of foggy clouds and no sign at all of the danger that was just chasing them.]
[Aki stands there panting, still holding Denji in his arms. Pochita is right at his feet, staring up at them both. Like they didn't just witness the most fucked up thing Aki has seen in years.]
What was...
[The words eke out of him quietly, like a creak. The hunter looks their way briefly but, seeing them both with open eyes, chooses to instead check on the other student, hurrying across to examine him where he lays.]
[ Eyes pinched closed, he clutches his brother as if he's his last lifeline, which Aki may as well be in this second. His relief of being chosen is as alive as his despair of potentially condemning them both to not making it out of range in time; the worst part is that he can't do anything about it, can't meddle and protect him any more than what he's already done. He simply has to let himself be taken away, rescued again, as every one of his emotions pulses through his veins, continuing to stretch his heart to its limit.
Then, boom. Air rushes past them, whipping their hair into their eyes, as a snout, a pair of teeth, and many eyes plow through the very systems and organs intended to keep a person alive with a mere close of its jaws. ]
…That?
[ Denji finishes for Aki in a hollow whisper, blood drying his lips. He'd weakly turned in tandem with Aki, a shimmer of awe to his gaze. Hunters can really contract with devils that huge and mighty? ]
T-That was so freaking awesome!
[ It occurs to him, suddenly, that's what Aki's gonna be on some faraway day. A hero belonging on a pedestal to lots people, not just him. He can afford to choose Denji today, but in the future, when he's got devils at his disposal and even more rules to abide by… His choice isn't set in stone.
Denji's grip on Aki's sleeve tightens before he tugs on him. He can let him down now. He's not a baby, and it'd be embarrassing if the whole neighborhood gathered around just to see him being held in such an embarrassing position. ]
I think we're… we're safe. [ They are, but what about… ] Pochita! [ Their companion looks up from licking off blood from his paw. ] Run home. Don't let those guys see ya.
[Awesome is a word for it. Aki continues staring in total shock, eyes wide and still until Denji tugs at him. He carefully lowers him to the ground to stand, but he keeps his arm around him, holding him in place from habit. He's so liable to run off at the first sign he's got some freedom. Denji tells the devil to run home and Aki quickly shakes his head.] Not yet. There might be other hunters out.
[So long as no one saw Denji using the devil, it should be okay, right...? --God, he doesn't care right now, it's not what matters! Why does he care about a stupid little chainsaw devil?! Denji's the one who actually matters. He turns him to face him and presses his hand to his forehead, against his cheeks, then down to his heart.] Are you okay? Open your mouth up, let me see. [His own hands are still sticky with spots of devil blood but at least they aren't either of their blood. Denji's got his own covering of it and it makes it hard to tell how much of it is his, however.] Come here and sit down for a second, and catch your breath, and - Remember what that doctor said, about doing those breathing things? The in-out-in-out? Do that, got it? [He drags Denji over to the curb to sit him down, for now ignoring Pochita completely. More important things are going on.]
I'm going to talk to that guy - Stay right here, got it? Just breathe slow, and count your breaths, do those things, okay? [Only one doctor has ever looked at Denji for his lung issues and it was nearly five years ago, in the orphanage. Aki has been going off that one visit ever since.]
[ After that stunt he pulled taking on the zombie, Aki's mother-henning is expected. Likely even the desired end result, but it doesn't make him feel any less overwhelmed as his hands freely roam across his face, seeking out any injuries — aaah, Denji opens his mouth, teeth red — or flustered, for that matter, when he touches his fingers to his chest. To the left of center, where the quickening flutter of his heart hides. He doesn't have to be so handsy just because he spit out some blood…
Still, he allows him to do what he wants, relishes all of it to a degree. The chance to sit front and center stage in the spotlight of Aki's concern. Perhaps that's why he doesn't put up much of a fight when Aki forces him to sit, only stuttering out, ] A-Alright, [ and then beginning his breathing exercises as instructed. Too fast, at first — it's hard to concentrate, watching Aki walk away, a prick of anxiety pinching at his stomach. Like he's worried that somehow the hunter didn't get all of the zombie, or maybe that there are more zombies where that one came from. Sensing, though, that these thoughts aren't really improving his situation, he attempts to shove them aside.
In-out, that's one. In-out, two. In-in-out-in, uh. Out-out-cut-it-out is what his little mantra deteriorates into, a chiding directed at his dumb heart for not working the way he wants. Damn it.
Pochita runs his tongue against the back of Denji's hand. His nails are grinding into the curb, shredding into uneven edges. Immediately, he releases the tension in his fists. Rewards the good boy with a light pat to the head in thanks.
Once more, he tries to conjure up what that old doc told him those years ago. It had something to do with how when someone drives a car, it's not good to slam on the brakes. You gotta ease your foot down — and to think of breathing in those terms. Denji's never driven a car and probably won't ever have to if he's moving to Tokyo, but as far as he's concerned, this is pretty sound advice. He thinks, at least. Deliberately, he push out his stomach muscles as he inhales, relaxing those same muscles as he steadily breathes a cool current of air out. Repeats that process once, twice, and then a third time. A fourth, for extra measure.
"You okay there?" Deep voice.
Denji's head tilts up. Pretty face.
But then he realizes who he's looking at is a guy, and quickly amends to himself: Ugly face.
Lit cigarette in hand, the hunter squats down in front of him, a trail of smoke hanging in the air above his head like miniature storm clouds. Resisting the urge to give into the cough scratching inside his throat, like a cat batting under the gap of the door, Denji's mouth sets. He darts a look at where Aki is still talking to who he can only presume is this dude's colleague. ]
Um… Been better.
[ Been worse, too, but Denji refrains from sharing that.
The hunter hums, neck rolling, but no sound of a crack ever reaches his ears. "Good. By the by, that weird dog yours?" ]
— My big bro! [ He says at the same time, hoping to disrupt that train of thought. He has no idea what to say next, just keeps looking back at where Aki is, willing him to turn around. Come back. ] He's really worried about me. 'cause of, y'know, what happened. Maybe we should call an ambulance or something to get him off my back —
[ "Easy there, tiger. They're on the way." ]
Oh. Then I gotta tell him. So that he stops, er, annoying me.
[ And with that, Denji begins to stand, a poor attempt at gracefully exiting the uncomfortable exchange, but the sudden altitude doesn't bode well for his lightheadedness. He tips on his feet in an instant, and the hunter's hand appears at his elbow, helping him settle back down, but the expression on Denji's face is far from relieved. ]
[His classmate is dead. Aki realizes that when he's still a few feet away and sees the hunter placing his jacket over the boy's face, covering the bloodstain dribbling across the concrete. He hesitates before coming over, but the hunter finally spots him and seems relieved - that he's okay, that he's a witness, he doesn't know. Heading over to him from the body of the other boy, he starts asking all sorts of questions. Is he okay, what happened, was anyone else hurt. Where the devil appeared. If there were any other around. Aki stands with his back straight, answering everything he can. All while his eyes dart furtively to his bag, dropped beside the alarm that's finally stopped ringing. His wallet is in there. But he'd have to pass the body to get to it. And why does that feel so cruel?]
[Maybe because it could have been him. Or Denji. Or anyone, really. Wrong place, wrong time. That's what people say about devil victims. When he finally steels himself to get his bag, the hunter asks him suddenly if he knows the kid he was with, if he's okay, too. As Aki passes the body to get his bag, he keeps his head turned to avoid looking at it, avoid thinking about how his whole weight fell into him and gave him the ache in his chest he still has, but by turning around he spots Denji being grabbed. At least, that's what it looks like from his vantage point: The hand on his arm, grabbing him as he stumbles like he's trying to avoid it. The way Denji's pale face seems to flinch in distrust or worry or something, he's too far to see. Aki snatches his bag in a sudden rush to hurry back to him, calling out,] Hey!
[And then Denji is being set down again, lowered against the curb as Pochita presses in close. Aki quickly gets between him and the other hunter, only realizing as he gets closer that's who the man is, that he's not trying to snatch him away, take him somewhere new. Face flushed partially from annoyance, partially from embarrassment at misreading the scene, he squats down to Denji's level and presses his hair back to feel his forehead again, then down to grab his wrist to feel his pulse.] Are you okay? Don't stand up, every time, I have to tell you that -
["We got an ambulance coming," the not-kidnapper hunter tells him as the Fox wielder comes over as well. "Might want to get him - "]
He's okay. [Quickly blurted out as he stands back up, stepping in front of Pochita as he does, trying to block both the devil and Denji from their view.] We live close by. He's just bloody, from that fox head. He'll be okay, once he's cleaned up.
[The two hunters obviously look like they don't believe him, but Aki looks down at Denji expectantly.] Come on. Let's go home. You can ride on my back, come on.
[ Semi-consciousness limbo is never fun. It's this strange, aerated state where he feels like he's floating, he can hear voices discussing his well-being, and his eyes are wide open, but his vision keeps flickering in and out. That should alarm him: darkness, then light; light, then darkness. An endless cycle from hell. But on the bright side, he can hold himself upright, at least. That he's not flopping over and worrying his brother into a premature vascular disease of his own should count as something. Some kind of win, God, he needs one.
When Aki takes his temperature, he'll notice his skin is somewhat cool to the touch, yet perspiring all over. Clammy. His pulse, now much slower than the average beats per minute. The other times this has happened, he's gotten better with a few hours spent laying down, a glass of water, and a sports drink. Oh, and potato chips help, too. Yeah, that should do it.
Denji doesn't think this is any different from the norm. So when he hears him suggest they go back, he's too happy to grope a hand out, feeling around for the sturdy back he knows is turned toward him, despite being unable to make out his form.
He slumps forward, arms not even wound entirely around his neck, just hanging from his shoulders like a battered stole. Feeling safe enough to let his eyelids shut. ]
Y… Yeah. Les'go home. Jus' needa nap.
[ The hunter that'd been trying to engage Denji doesn't stop them, but he does insist upon exchanging address and contact information. If they have any follow-up questions, they'll be in touch, to definitely visit with a medical professional if the two of them change their mind, and probably other stuff that devil hunters always say in the TV dramas. His mind is so fatigued, he can't make out the rest, all of it distant and going over his head. He can't tell if Pochita is with them or not, either, but he's choosing to trust that he is. That Aki is keeping him safe.
He only gets this vague sensation he's being lifted up, and that they're trudging slowly somewhere. Home, he hopes. Or just some place warm that's warm, all light. Some place he can sleep for a long time and wake up feeling better. ]
Sorry, Aki. [ Denji's face fits into the narrow passage between Aki's shoulders, some of the blood that'd yet to dry inking his nape. ] 'm sorry you gotta carry me again… You not hurt?
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Watch it!
[ Do jerks get overtime pay or something? Geez… ]
Alright, I won't bring him to school yet. [ He's not sold on the idea that Pochita is fully useless in a devil attack. Like, what if he could communicate with the other devil and make it go away or something? Some test trials need to be run here. Plus, he's got a badass chainsaw thing coming out of his frontal lobe. His pet has to be way more useful to have at school than Meowy. ] I'll wait until we're both stronger and we can protect each other.
[ And then he won't need Aki to worry over him anymore. Won't have to feel bad about holding Aki back either. He can leave Denji, launching himself fast and far for wherever he wants to land.
Denji's chin tucks into his chest as he lays back down, arms circled around Pochita perhaps a bit too snugly. The devil-dog doesn't make a sound, though, only looks at him, then looks down at the gangly arms hugging his body tight with an expression he's never seen on an animal's face before. Something caught between surprise and an unspeakable warmth. Pochita snuggles in, drifting immediately to sleep.
He waits for the devil's breaths to even out to reach his hand over to Aki's bed, pinching at the edge of his shirt. He's not sure if he's still awake or not, but he murmurs: ] Hey. Until then… can you look after me a little while longer? I'll try to not be bad…
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[By the time Denji reaches out, Aki is mostly asleep, laid on his back and breathing slowly. Like always he hums when he feels something touch him, used to being woken in the middle of the night, his eyes still closed. Power is snoring quietly, but he can still make out what Denji mumbles.]
[He rolls onto his side to face him, eyes still closed as he reaches over blindly to where he imagines Denji's head must be to pat it carefully before letting his hand settle between them. He mostly just patted his face, though.]
Not going anywhere.
[He's probably said those exact words to him countless times, and he'll probably say them again in due time. They're easy to say because he believes them, as easily as he believes devils are meant to be destroyed and laundry dries better on a clothesline than in a dryer. He falls fully asleep after that repeated promise, not thinking about the devil that separates them.]
[He thinks he's done a good enough job getting him ready for the make-up test. Promising to let him go out and take the devil for a walk in between successful practice tests seems to help, as does the repeated promise to get him a reward if he passes beyond the promise to let him come with him when he trains. Anything to keep him actually studying. He sits through classes that day staring through the blackboard, barely taking note of anything happening and trying extremely hard to make it seem like he's not worried. He'll do fine. He'll remember the formulas and he knew pi up to six digits last night. His foot keeps tapping the floor to the point that he feels his seat neighbor look at him and forces it to stop. But then his pen is tapping next.]
[It's not that it's some hugely important exam. But if Denji can't even pass this, then how is he going to be able to trust him to keep up his habits next year...?]
[When the day is over he heads downstairs to wait at the first year shoe lockers, watching the departing students and waiting for him to show up. Tense and stone still, he can tell some of the other students look at him with trepidation. An over-bearingly over-protective sort.]
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The day of, he plays at cool the entire morning, stuffing his face with more food than usual. And yet throughout each passing hour, he can feel sweat gather at his pits and bleed through his uniform. He gets yelled at during P.E. for trying to run around the track while carrying his study book. Failing isn't what he's scared of; he's already failed once before, right? So there's only going up from here!
…Except he starts losing his head whenever he imagines Aki's disagreeable presence looming over his shoulder, eyes dull with premature disappointment. Is this the so-called test anxiety devil he's heard whispers of?
Come time for Denji to take his exam, he — well, he arrives in a daze. Sits down. Waits for the test material to land in front of his face, and when it does, he sets to work. He gnaws on the end of his mechanical pencil. He scratches his head, stabbing numbers into his calculator and hoping something close to the right answer appears before him. He uses his eraser enough times that the paper looks smudged and crumpled once he finishes, but he does finish. His exam enters his teacher's hands, and it takes her all of ten minutes to pass him back his grade: 77. Scribbled in all red on the front page.
Bag slung haphazardly over his shoulder, he slowly navigates through the halls with a dim look in his eyes. Forgetting the need to put away his school shoes, Denji nearly passes his adoptive brother by entirely, if it weren't for the timing of a few rambunctious guys in his grade running just short of barreling him over as they dash out the entrance. ]
Ah! [ He checks over his shoulder to make sure no one else is stampeding behind him. His eyes twinkle when he spots Aki, regaining some liveliness. ] Oh, you…! [ The fatigue from actually having to use his brain hitting him all at once, Denji sways a little on his feet as he reroutes back to him. He shakes the test, still clutched in his hands, way to close to Aki's face. ] Look, I'm a certified genius! Should I get my IQ tested next?
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[Nearly, Aki calls out to him, but he stops when the two other students come rushing through. When he looks back to see Denji spotting him, what he worried was exhaustion in his features seems to be gone and instead he looks - cheery? Is he cheery? And then his test is shoved into his face and Aki blinks, trying to pull his hand back to see the number more clearly.]
[A 77... A 77? That's not a 44? It's a 77? Over a 70? Hell, over a 75? Aki openly gapes at it for a moment, his quip about getting his IQ tested completely missed.]
You - You did so well. [What the hell? Why is he so surprised by this? Why was he seriously preparing for the lecture he was going to give him? Aki tries to shake off the shock, but all it does is downgrade it slightly into overly-visible relief.] You seriously got a 77... That's great, Denji.
[He sounds like Denji just told him he won the Nobel Prize. It kind of feels like he did.]
...Oh - What was it you said? Strawberry cake? [He finally drops his shoes and slips them on. He still looks like he's in a bit of a fog from the surprise.] You still want that? Or something bigger?
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[ It goes without saying that she instantly rejected that notion, though.
Following Aki's example, he stumbles over to his cubby to remove his shoes. Once done, Denji looks at the test again, thinking over whether to shove it deep into his pocket like he would gum wadded up in its wrapper, but instead, he unzips his backpack and slips it in. Careful, for once. This one's going on the fridge. As they sedately make their way out: ]
Um, um… Whaddaya mean something bigger than strawberry cake? Like two strawberry cakes? Three?
[ He may or may not be imagining a three-tiered cake with sparklers and fruit and sprinkles and chocolate drizzle all up the wazoo. That's so big! Even if they cut it in half, he's not sure it'd fit in their refrigerator. Not to mention… ]
I thought were saving and stuff. For the move.
[ Plus, Pochita. Plus, the trip, which is still to be decided right now, seeing as they haven't raised the topic once since Denji ran away from home. He likes indulging and getting spoiled. Even feels a little entitled to it because he did so well on his exam. But that doesn't mean he's unaware of how tight their finances are. ]
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[He just wants more cake...? That doesn't sound right, and when Denji reveals his worry about their savings, for once Aki shakes his head at him, even looking annoyed that he's bringing it up. Like he isn't constantly sitting over his hand-written spreadsheets with the grocery receipts.]
It's already fall. There'll be jobs for harvesting and logging again soon.
[...But there is the case for his trip, sure, and that he wanted to include Denji's trip as well. He's not about to bring that up right now, though. He may be a pain in the ass, but Aki isn't going to start that discussion again so suddenly after he just did something good.]
Just forget about that - If you could have anything, what would you want? [And interrupting him before he can think to answer with it, ] And you can't say something like "women." [He is not renting his adoptive brother a prostitute for getting a C on a test.]
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Wome —
[ But seeming to predict the flight path his mind was headed on, Aki interrupts him. Sets his one devastating condition. What's wrong with women? And Denji was thinking of something more innocent than a straight up prostitute, like getting his help flirting with a classmate or going to some themed cafe.
Denji scrambles to find alternatives, though, his arms crossed behind his neck, head tilted to look up at the clear sky, as if he can see his desires take shape there. ]
I wanna go to the hot springs. [ With that girl on the basketball team. ] I wanna eat sushi. Or a crepe! Or maybe a parfait… [ With that girl who's always assisting the school librarian. ] Wanna get fed each bite. [ …By a cute girl. Any girl. ] Wanna, uh… I wanna… Hm.
[ Everything he lists basically indicates that he wants practice going on a date. Except for one thing, one idea that strikes him with no warning, but makes all the sense in the world to him — ]
Hey, hey! How about this: We skip school for a day together, hitch a ride on the train, and go to the beach!
[ Being normal teenagers with Aki. ]
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[Hot springs...? There are hot springs up north, maybe he can factor that in to the Hokkaido trip...? How much do hot springs cost to stay at? Is there a cheap one they can do, like a bath house or something? But Denji moves on before Aki can get too deep in those thoughts to things that are much easier to obtain. Sushi, crepes, a parfait... And to be fed each bite... Uh... He's not really interested in doing that, but...]
[But then out comes his plan, for them to skip class and go to the beach. Aki raises his brows high, nonplussed as he walks silently beside him. There are tons of students in their school who skip and Aki considers them childish and not understanding the greater picture. No, when he skips, his reasons are just. Mostly to surreptitiously work odd jobs, writing out doctor's notes for Fridays so he could work a three day weekend. Or calling in sick to recover after a long weekend of stripping down recycled goods.]
[...But why has he never skipped and not done anything like that? Because it would get him in trouble? Is it easier for him to tell himself it's okay if it's something like work, something "productive?" But this is productive, the devil on his shoulder argues. Making sure Denji relates good grades to a reward is productive. But he shouldn't be encouraging Denji to skip, rebuts the angel on the other shoulder. It's already hard enough to say why his skipping is okay versus why the students he judges when they pass by the arcade and see them slumming in their jeans and t-shirts are not.]
[...But it would be nice to go to the beach.]
Fine.
[And before Denji can celebrate, he makes his terms clear.]
But you have to promise to get over an 80 on your final. Got it?
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The voice that answers Aki is scratchy, predisposed to aggrievement: ] Man, seriously? It wouldn't kill ya to do somethin' other than work yourself to the bone — wait, what'd you say?
[ Fine… Fine? Did he just hear — ]
…You mean it…? You'll go?
[ It hasn't yet registered that he'll have to work at least ten times as hard for his next exam afterward, but Denji's never been great at that sort of forward planning. Forget about while he's still reeling. ]
You'll have to go swimming with me. And get buried in sand, and, and — do, like, other touristy stuff!
[ He doesn't want Aki to back out or anything, but he has to make sure he knows what he's signing up for here. ]
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[The way Denji immediately gets ready to fight him on this shouldn't make him laugh, so Aki controls it down, only letting out a snort. He lists all the things he wants to do like they're warnings, stuff he's going to hate or something. But he's never gone to the beach with them alone. He thinks they went when they were in that orphanage, maybe once or twice as a sanctioned trip since they were closer to the sea there. But here...]
It'll be an hour or so on the train, you know.
[Can Denji even sit still for an hour? But that does go along with his demanding for "touristy" stuff. They'll definitely be out of this small town.]
We'd have to get up early and come home at a decent hour. I'm not going to spend money on a hotel or something, so long as you can promise to make it back to go to class the next day.
[Which means a full night's sleep, per Aki's rules.]
So long as you can promise those things, we can do whatever you like.
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[ It happens quick and unplanned, the suddenness with which he pushes Aki into a narrow back strip off the street, out of sight of any passersby who might cast judgment. Then, as tight as a sailor's knot, Denji's arms crush around his waist, the side of his face pressed firmly into his chest, uncaring of any annoyance his actions may spawn. Denji's not so short anymore that Aki can comfortably rest his chin atop his head, but he bows into him to force the fit, anyway, nose digging into his collar. It's almost territorial, how he keeps nuzzling in, like he knows there are only so many years left where he can keep getting away with doing this. ]
I won't fall asleep, not once! I'll take all my notes, I'll eat all my veggies, even Powy's, I'll help with the cooking more often, and, and, uh — I'll train him. I'll train Pochita to be good.
[ Breathing in a string of air, he pulls away with a pronounced step. Honestly speaking, he doesn't want to let go, but he's attempting what Aki's been asking him to do all along: grow up. ]
I won't make you worry anymore.
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[Being shoved into the nearest flat surface so Denji can rub his face all over him like a dog scenting its new toy is nothing new to Aki but he still groans with vague annoyance when he starts doing it anyway. He presses his cheek into the top of Denji's head in an effort to get him to stop rubbing so hard that he'll chafe his neck and keeps repeating, Alright, alright, alright. Not actually doing anything to get him to back off or stop, just dealing with it until it's over.]
[When he finally steps away, Aki straightens his uniform with a long sigh, dusting off a few blond hairs that got stuck to his front as he looks at Denji. He looks way too pleased with himself right now.]
I don't think you'll ever make me not -
[There's a pronounced thud before Aki can finish the thought, followed by a squelch. In the thin alley between apartment complexes, something dark fell from the roof and is dragging an injured arm behind itself. There's a definitively inhuman noise coming from the thing despite the vaguely human shape and as Aki feels his breath catch he sees its eyes alight on both of them and the light from the end of the alley reflects to show the injured arm it's dragging. It's in a black sleeve, the cuff wrapped with the same blue band as their own uniform. And it's still attached to the body the devil is dragging. That was the squelch.]
[Aki reaches to Denji and shoves him from the alley, out toward the way home.]
Go! [He's right behind him when the devil lunges, slamming itself into the wall against where Aki was standing, stunning it long enough for them to get a good head start as Aki grabs him by the wrist and yanks him along with him. Hoping that the shove was enough to give him a good enough head start.]
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That's his second mistake. His first was not bothering to tie his shoelaces back at his locker.
The taste of rust pervades his mouth when his chin slams into pavement, his only clue that he bit down his tongue in the process of skidding against the ground, dirt and sidewalk grit scratching into his skin. It's only as pain flames up his palms, his arms, that he feels his brain working correctly, a kick of amphetamines speeding up his system, his mind racing as he pushes up from the ground. ]
What… What the freak was that?! [ Denji shouts with little regard for who or what he may accidentally capture the attention of. If anything, he hopes it might be help. ] What're we running from — Power!
[ She's up ahead, leaned up against the side of their apartment building, holding a bag of snacks from the convenience store. Hearing her name, she looks his way, a haughty grin pushing up her lips. "Fools! You thought you could escape from — eh? Denji, you're bleeding." ]
Get inside!
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[Denji goes down and it's like life goes into slow motion for that moment. Aki grabs him under the elbow to hoist him up and shoves him forward again, watches as his feet stumble and blood drips off his chin, the heat of his arm that scraped into the pavement. He can hear the heavy movement of the devil behind them and he can't stand the intense fear grappling him right now. The overwhelming sense of dread, of loss, of terror. This isn't how it should be. He shouldn't be scared. If he's going to be a devil hunter, he can't be scared. He doesn't have a way to fight right now, no weapons or advantage and one person to protect. No, two. Power is up ahead. Time speeds right back up when he sees her.]
Inside! [He barks it at her the same time Denji does, again shoving him forward to try and make sure he goes to the apartment, climbs the stairs. It's like the devils' presence is magnified the more scared he is. The sound of its movement, the shake of the ground as it clambers after them, an inhuman groan. He dares to look back and sees, past the devil on the pavement, the prone body of the other student and his eyes widen. He recognizes the boy. He's from his class.]
Go inside - Go inside! [He keeps pushing Denji forward, grabbing him and dragging him and shoving at him to go in front of him. Their door isn't strong enough to stop a devil. If it follows them up the stairs, he doesn't know what will happen. What about the devil inside? It'll just be eaten as well. It's too weak to do anything to help. Totally useless - He can't let this thing follow them upstairs. He can't possibly let it destroy their family.]
[Another shove, this time up the stairs to the apartment behind Power, and then Aki lets go of Denji. He knows there's a call box two blocks down. He can make it - He has the endurance for it. More than Denji, for sure. He's been running laps for years, he can outrun this devil, its skin falling off and steps like a drunkard, sloppy and uneven as it chases. If he can hit the alarm, maybe he can save all of them - his classmate and Denji and Power. He just has to make it down there.]
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Swinging up the staircase, she fumbles with her keys to get the entrance unlocked and pushed open. She holds the door wide for Denji as he uses the momentum from Aki's shove to run up after her, his heart slamming up hard against the protective tissue it wears, pumping in overdrive. He’s toddling on the edge of blacking out, he can feel it, knows that's what the cold tingles blooming at the side of his scalp is telling him, his vision overexposed and saturated. Fear seizing control of his command center, jamming buttons and pulling levers just to get him spilling through the door frame, not even all the way inside. Power has to drag him in by the pits of his arms to get the door kicked closed, but he's wrenching away from her, throwing himself back at the handle. To get it back open. ]
The door! Open it! Aki’s still — He’s still coming up —
[ Power cuts him off, bluntly explaining that she noticed him head a different direction. Denji stares, feeling galled, feeling lightheaded from the revelation that Aki's doing something so fucking risky. Alone. Like he isn't a kid who's face pinches when he has too much sour candy, who gets misty-eyed whenever he and Power plan a surprise for his birthday. Stupid, stupid, so stupid.
A wet nose nudges into his hand. Pochita. Breathing out shakily, he calms somewhat, and feels an instant squeeze inside the left side of his chest as he gathers the devil inside his arms. Lets his expression fall once his face is safely hidden in his fur.
Usually, Pochita would snuggle into the hug, but this time, he wiggles and struggles in his hold. Turns, so that his tail is furiously smacking the side of Denji's cheek. He tries pushing the thin cable out of the way, but Pochita just reorients himself again and the same thing continues — it's annoying. He generally feels connected to the devil-dog, able to read what he's trying to communicate and vice versa. So why can't he understand he's having a fucking crisis and now's not the time for playing? Growling in frustration, he tugs at the tail, pulling, not hard enough to hurt, but to tell him to knock it off.
But that's when he hears it, the mechanical purr of a combustion engine igniting. Kick-starting. Pochita's eyes blankly widen, the saw jutting from his head pulsing to life. Denji jerks back, but doesn't let go of his tail, nor his back handle. ]
Uh, Pochita?
[ "Waaah, a valorous weapon — Meowy! Your turn!" Power shouts, reaching for her cat, but Denji ignores that part. The word weapon echoing in his mind. Weapon. That's exactly what they need. Power can't stop him in time before he's out the door, Pochita's small form still vibrating in his hands. He frantically follows the trail of rags and rotted skin that'd come off from the devil, realizing that he's being led to the neighborhood call box. His stomach doesn't feel right, belabored by pain and panic, but he forces himself to keep going, running, yelling. ]
Hey, you, face rash! [ Face rash, in reference to the way the thing's inner jaw is fully visible, revealing stretches of decomposed muscle and molded teeth. ] Get away or — or I'm gonna mess you up! R-Really bad!
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[He's nearly at the call box whe he hears the sound of Denji's voice, breath coming out heavy and gut punched with so much effort and fear that he almost doesn't think he's actually hearing him. But the sound of the devil's movement slows, just a bit, enough that Aki dares to look back when he's only a few feet from the alarm. He does a double take, grabbing the box and whirling around fully to stare in shock and horror at Denji, standing there with that useless devil in his arms. Holding it like it's a real chainsaw. He breathes heavy, eyes wide and full of fright, then seems to snap to awareness and slams the alarm button on the call box. The siren sounds and begins shining light, drawing the devil's attention back around to Aki who rounds the box to face it. Boxed between two teenagers, it has the sort of expression of someone who just got an extra slice of cake at the company party because they stayed late to help clean up. Extra effort made worth it.]
Denji - Get out of here. [He slowly lowers his bag to the ground, dropping it at his feet as he prepares himself. He was going to run up a tree or something and hope that the devil couldn't climb while he waited for a hunter. That plan's out the window.] Go back -
[But then the devil is moving, suddenly, like it's attracted in some way to the devil in Denji's arms. Or maybe it just sees an easier meal. It lunges toward him like a drunkard toward a barstool and Aki jerks forward to aim at it, sends his body tackling into the devil to make it stumble and flail on its feet before it smacks Aki out of the way. His head snaps to the side at the hit but he ignores the rush of vertigo, getting back on his feet while he screams at Denji, ] Go back! Go back! [all while attempting to launch himself at the devil again to distract it from the combo meal it's aiming for.]
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But here's the thing Denji sees beyond all that: The unsteady look in Aki's eyes from the whiplash of being tossed back with the ease of a rolling tumbleweed. The unbalanced lurch in his step. The fear in his voice that's making the devil's grin widen and stretch as it begins to drag the limp body in its grip, swinging the boy at Aki like some crowbar it found off the ground. ]
Pochita.
[ Woof! comes his answer. Instant understanding. That's right, Denji thinks. There's never been any going back.
Denji's not as fast on his feet as he could be, but he does have the advantage of proximity. He's close by enough to barge in between the opening of the devil striking out, feet sliding with a precision of a batter speeding from base to base around the diamond, dust kicking up. The devil doesn't cough around the cloud, though, doesn't even howl as it falls back, its arm disappearing behind the roar of iron cutting away at flesh and bone, spraying pieces of both in a fanning arc. The arm severs, and the student drops like a sack of cement against Aki's chest, rotted hand still clinging to him.
He glances back at the two. That's about the only thing he has time to do before the devil is trundling forward, reaching for him with the arm it has left. Teeth gritting, he charges straight ahead into the devil, feet digging into the dirt to keep it from bowling him over, hopefully to give Aki enough time to roll out from under his classmate. His cheek pressed up against its breast, Denji plunges Pochita into its torso, twisting him, as blood jets out from the wound, misting his face and obscuring his vision. ]
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[Toppled over by the weight of the other student's body crashing into him, Aki falls flat on his back and struggles to get out from beneath him. His head is singing in pain and it feels like something just rattled free in his skull but he can't think about that - Because what the hell is that sound?]
[He thinks it must come from somewhere else, someone across the street doing lawncare or something, before he sees a splash of blood cover the ground along with the arm. The student falls into him fully, his whole weight suddenly keeping him down, but over his shoulder Aki watches in shock before blood splashes onto his face. He scoots back and tries to get out from under the sudden weight. When he finally stumbles to his feet and wipes the blood out of his eyes, his vision is still blurry enough that he can't tell what he's seeing. But even if he could, it's doubtful he would understand the image before him: Denji with the little orange bean of a devil, its chainsaw head slashed into the center of the other one, its arm chopped off as it hangs with blood spilling between them both. And all while a chainsaw's motor roars.]
Denji - [Aki stumbles forward, nearly slipping in the mess as he tries to grab for him, tries to find him in the mania. Why is the devil standing so still?? Is it getting ready to hit them harder? Charging up for something? He has no idea, and combined with the harsh whirr of a noise and the alarm coming from the call box he can't get a straight enough thought through to figure this out. His hand finds Denji's arm and he pulls, trying desperatley to get him free. Because surely the devil grabbed him and not the other way around. That much he can understand.]
Come on - Come on, just - Let 'im go -
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Aki — [ He coughs and a fresher red than what he's covered in hacks out from his lips in viscous globs down his chin. His own blood. Pochita drops unceremoniously to the ground, and Denji winces. Apologetic for not having the strength to even keep him held upright. ] M'chest hurts.
[ This is normal, really. Whenever Denji pushes himself too hard, he'll experience dizziness, sudden hemoptysis, heart palpitations, stuff like that. This is always what happens. With some patience, this whole thing will go away — but the timing's bad. The thing, the zombie is still standing, still trudging toward them despite its body being in worse shambles than Denji's, like a strong compulsion is driving it. One that's not its own. ]
Go. [ Weakly, he shoves at Aki, urging him to leave, but the strength of it is no better than a puppy pawing at someone's knee. ] Take that guy and go away. Pochita will protect me, so you don't hafta… S'part of the contract.
[ Denji's not a good person. Between the unconscious student and him, he wants Aki to choose him over and over. Without thinking, without blinking. He wants to mean the most to him, but he knows that the future Aki has in mind for himself means just as much. If not more. ]
Devil hunters are coming. So it's alright. I'll be alright.
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[The simple image of Denji with blood on his lips nearly short circuits everything else inside of him. Aki stares at him with eyes as wide as saucers, terror flooding him. The devil is bad enough. Denji's own body reacting to the stress is even worse. And he has the nerve to tell him to get out of here?]
[He can hear the zombie still shuffling toward them but he doesn't care. Pochita seemed to weaken it enough and he's still standing upright despite the drop so he has to assume the little guy can walk. But even if he couldn't, Aki doesn't care. He's bolting forward to scoop Denji in his arms, hold him tight against his chest as he carries him like a bride, rushing down the street and away from the devil with harsh breaths. Running with him is nothing like carrying him last night, his arms screaming, his chest aching from the way he was hit by the other student, thrown into the ground and knocked around like a piece of plywood. But adrenaline is stronger than pain and he runs like he's in the final stretch of a marathon, eyes still wide and fear still flooding him like a torrent of rain. It's only exciting the devil and he can hear it lumbering after them, slower than before, and he's not even sure where he's going but away when he suddenly hears a horrible chomp like a dog, the splatter of blood on his back.]
[The sound of the dragging footsteps is gone and Aki dares to look back, going completely still at the sight. A fox head with more eys than he can see, surrounded with dust and fog. Hurrying from the midst of that smoke is a man in a black suit, saying something to the massive head before it vanishes into the same smoke, leaving only a sea of foggy clouds and no sign at all of the danger that was just chasing them.]
[Aki stands there panting, still holding Denji in his arms. Pochita is right at his feet, staring up at them both. Like they didn't just witness the most fucked up thing Aki has seen in years.]
What was...
[The words eke out of him quietly, like a creak. The hunter looks their way briefly but, seeing them both with open eyes, chooses to instead check on the other student, hurrying across to examine him where he lays.]
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Then, boom. Air rushes past them, whipping their hair into their eyes, as a snout, a pair of teeth, and many eyes plow through the very systems and organs intended to keep a person alive with a mere close of its jaws. ]
…That?
[ Denji finishes for Aki in a hollow whisper, blood drying his lips. He'd weakly turned in tandem with Aki, a shimmer of awe to his gaze. Hunters can really contract with devils that huge and mighty? ]
T-That was so freaking awesome!
[ It occurs to him, suddenly, that's what Aki's gonna be on some faraway day. A hero belonging on a pedestal to lots people, not just him. He can afford to choose Denji today, but in the future, when he's got devils at his disposal and even more rules to abide by… His choice isn't set in stone.
Denji's grip on Aki's sleeve tightens before he tugs on him. He can let him down now. He's not a baby, and it'd be embarrassing if the whole neighborhood gathered around just to see him being held in such an embarrassing position. ]
I think we're… we're safe. [ They are, but what about… ] Pochita! [ Their companion looks up from licking off blood from his paw. ] Run home. Don't let those guys see ya.
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[Awesome is a word for it. Aki continues staring in total shock, eyes wide and still until Denji tugs at him. He carefully lowers him to the ground to stand, but he keeps his arm around him, holding him in place from habit. He's so liable to run off at the first sign he's got some freedom. Denji tells the devil to run home and Aki quickly shakes his head.] Not yet. There might be other hunters out.
[So long as no one saw Denji using the devil, it should be okay, right...? --God, he doesn't care right now, it's not what matters! Why does he care about a stupid little chainsaw devil?! Denji's the one who actually matters. He turns him to face him and presses his hand to his forehead, against his cheeks, then down to his heart.] Are you okay? Open your mouth up, let me see. [His own hands are still sticky with spots of devil blood but at least they aren't either of their blood. Denji's got his own covering of it and it makes it hard to tell how much of it is his, however.] Come here and sit down for a second, and catch your breath, and - Remember what that doctor said, about doing those breathing things? The in-out-in-out? Do that, got it? [He drags Denji over to the curb to sit him down, for now ignoring Pochita completely. More important things are going on.]
I'm going to talk to that guy - Stay right here, got it? Just breathe slow, and count your breaths, do those things, okay? [Only one doctor has ever looked at Denji for his lung issues and it was nearly five years ago, in the orphanage. Aki has been going off that one visit ever since.]
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Still, he allows him to do what he wants, relishes all of it to a degree. The chance to sit front and center stage in the spotlight of Aki's concern. Perhaps that's why he doesn't put up much of a fight when Aki forces him to sit, only stuttering out, ] A-Alright, [ and then beginning his breathing exercises as instructed. Too fast, at first — it's hard to concentrate, watching Aki walk away, a prick of anxiety pinching at his stomach. Like he's worried that somehow the hunter didn't get all of the zombie, or maybe that there are more zombies where that one came from. Sensing, though, that these thoughts aren't really improving his situation, he attempts to shove them aside.
In-out, that's one. In-out, two. In-in-out-in, uh. Out-out-cut-it-out is what his little mantra deteriorates into, a chiding directed at his dumb heart for not working the way he wants. Damn it.
Pochita runs his tongue against the back of Denji's hand. His nails are grinding into the curb, shredding into uneven edges. Immediately, he releases the tension in his fists. Rewards the good boy with a light pat to the head in thanks.
Once more, he tries to conjure up what that old doc told him those years ago. It had something to do with how when someone drives a car, it's not good to slam on the brakes. You gotta ease your foot down — and to think of breathing in those terms. Denji's never driven a car and probably won't ever have to if he's moving to Tokyo, but as far as he's concerned, this is pretty sound advice. He thinks, at least. Deliberately, he push out his stomach muscles as he inhales, relaxing those same muscles as he steadily breathes a cool current of air out. Repeats that process once, twice, and then a third time. A fourth, for extra measure.
"You okay there?" Deep voice.
Denji's head tilts up. Pretty face.
But then he realizes who he's looking at is a guy, and quickly amends to himself: Ugly face.
Lit cigarette in hand, the hunter squats down in front of him, a trail of smoke hanging in the air above his head like miniature storm clouds. Resisting the urge to give into the cough scratching inside his throat, like a cat batting under the gap of the door, Denji's mouth sets. He darts a look at where Aki is still talking to who he can only presume is this dude's colleague. ]
Um… Been better.
[ Been worse, too, but Denji refrains from sharing that.
The hunter hums, neck rolling, but no sound of a crack ever reaches his ears. "Good. By the by, that weird dog yours?" ]
— My big bro! [ He says at the same time, hoping to disrupt that train of thought. He has no idea what to say next, just keeps looking back at where Aki is, willing him to turn around. Come back. ] He's really worried about me. 'cause of, y'know, what happened. Maybe we should call an ambulance or something to get him off my back —
[ "Easy there, tiger. They're on the way." ]
Oh. Then I gotta tell him. So that he stops, er, annoying me.
[ And with that, Denji begins to stand, a poor attempt at gracefully exiting the uncomfortable exchange, but the sudden altitude doesn't bode well for his lightheadedness. He tips on his feet in an instant, and the hunter's hand appears at his elbow, helping him settle back down, but the expression on Denji's face is far from relieved. ]
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[His classmate is dead. Aki realizes that when he's still a few feet away and sees the hunter placing his jacket over the boy's face, covering the bloodstain dribbling across the concrete. He hesitates before coming over, but the hunter finally spots him and seems relieved - that he's okay, that he's a witness, he doesn't know. Heading over to him from the body of the other boy, he starts asking all sorts of questions. Is he okay, what happened, was anyone else hurt. Where the devil appeared. If there were any other around. Aki stands with his back straight, answering everything he can. All while his eyes dart furtively to his bag, dropped beside the alarm that's finally stopped ringing. His wallet is in there. But he'd have to pass the body to get to it. And why does that feel so cruel?]
[Maybe because it could have been him. Or Denji. Or anyone, really. Wrong place, wrong time. That's what people say about devil victims. When he finally steels himself to get his bag, the hunter asks him suddenly if he knows the kid he was with, if he's okay, too. As Aki passes the body to get his bag, he keeps his head turned to avoid looking at it, avoid thinking about how his whole weight fell into him and gave him the ache in his chest he still has, but by turning around he spots Denji being grabbed. At least, that's what it looks like from his vantage point: The hand on his arm, grabbing him as he stumbles like he's trying to avoid it. The way Denji's pale face seems to flinch in distrust or worry or something, he's too far to see. Aki snatches his bag in a sudden rush to hurry back to him, calling out,] Hey!
[And then Denji is being set down again, lowered against the curb as Pochita presses in close. Aki quickly gets between him and the other hunter, only realizing as he gets closer that's who the man is, that he's not trying to snatch him away, take him somewhere new. Face flushed partially from annoyance, partially from embarrassment at misreading the scene, he squats down to Denji's level and presses his hair back to feel his forehead again, then down to grab his wrist to feel his pulse.] Are you okay? Don't stand up, every time, I have to tell you that -
["We got an ambulance coming," the not-kidnapper hunter tells him as the Fox wielder comes over as well. "Might want to get him - "]
He's okay. [Quickly blurted out as he stands back up, stepping in front of Pochita as he does, trying to block both the devil and Denji from their view.] We live close by. He's just bloody, from that fox head. He'll be okay, once he's cleaned up.
[The two hunters obviously look like they don't believe him, but Aki looks down at Denji expectantly.] Come on. Let's go home. You can ride on my back, come on.
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When Aki takes his temperature, he'll notice his skin is somewhat cool to the touch, yet perspiring all over. Clammy. His pulse, now much slower than the average beats per minute. The other times this has happened, he's gotten better with a few hours spent laying down, a glass of water, and a sports drink. Oh, and potato chips help, too. Yeah, that should do it.
Denji doesn't think this is any different from the norm. So when he hears him suggest they go back, he's too happy to grope a hand out, feeling around for the sturdy back he knows is turned toward him, despite being unable to make out his form.
He slumps forward, arms not even wound entirely around his neck, just hanging from his shoulders like a battered stole. Feeling safe enough to let his eyelids shut. ]
Y… Yeah. Les'go home. Jus' needa nap.
[ The hunter that'd been trying to engage Denji doesn't stop them, but he does insist upon exchanging address and contact information. If they have any follow-up questions, they'll be in touch, to definitely visit with a medical professional if the two of them change their mind, and probably other stuff that devil hunters always say in the TV dramas. His mind is so fatigued, he can't make out the rest, all of it distant and going over his head. He can't tell if Pochita is with them or not, either, but he's choosing to trust that he is. That Aki is keeping him safe.
He only gets this vague sensation he's being lifted up, and that they're trudging slowly somewhere. Home, he hopes. Or just some place warm that's warm, all light. Some place he can sleep for a long time and wake up feeling better. ]
Sorry, Aki. [ Denji's face fits into the narrow passage between Aki's shoulders, some of the blood that'd yet to dry inking his nape. ] 'm sorry you gotta carry me again… You not hurt?
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