windfall | what i desire most, what i fear most

[ Oh, huh! That sounds like something — Denji forgets all about cleaning up in a matter of seconds, the cards left in an uneven stack as he emphatically waves his hand at Aki to shush him. ]

Pipe down, dude, there are folks sleepin' at this hour! [ Nope, not going to acknowledge the irony of the situation. ] Let him speak! I wanna hear this.

[ Excitedly, Denji leans his body toward Angel's, not really being mindful of keeping his distance, but it's not as if he's going to reach out and grab him. He just wants to hear him better. His voice is so quiet right now he doesn't want to risk missing even a single detail of what goes on during their patrols. He and Power aren't exactly tight-lipped whenever something fun or interesting or weird occurs, but Aki's always all business… ]

What happened? Which big guy in charge did he piss off to get you two kicked out to the curb?

[Aki looks equal parts annoyed and cowed by being told to quiet down, embarrassed that Denji has a point in telling him to do so. Angel considers backing away yet again from his approach, but he's tired. He doesn't want to put in the effort anymore. If he tells him the story, maybe he'll back off.]

I don't remember when it happened... There was a report in the neighborhood about a devil, and he made a big stink about looking in the pachinko parlor, 'cause he said it would be a good hiding place for a devil.

[Based on his expression, Aki still agrees with this thought. Lots of humans, lots of despair, fear of losing money... It's prime real estate for a devil's home.]

But the human who owned the parlor didn't want to empty the building because there was no proof. So this human decided I should stay by the entry and keep an eye out while he went through the aisles and looked around. [It was a good shift for him. He hardly had to do anything. Aki's rationale that the aisles were too close for comfort for his wingspan seemed legit, too.]

...But some other human got upset and thought he was a policeman, and started yelling and making a fuss. So this one starts getting worked up and turns around all of a sudden to make a fuss back, but he knocks over a whole tower of marbles, and they go all over the place. And the human who was upset falls over and it makes another human get upset and their marbles fall over next. Everyone's upset and thinking that this human's a policeman looking to collect their debts or take them to jail or whatever it is they do, and he's saying over and over again, [Angel drops his voice a register or so, in an attempt to mimic Aki's tone better.] "I'm Public Safety! Not the police!"

...And then when the human in charge came over, he slipped on all the marbles and fell on his face. So we got kicked out.

[They found the devil in a dumpster later. Aki still maintains he did nothing wrong.]

[ The story's hard to follow. Lots of different humans running amok, Aki chief among them, but it's still pretty entertaining to hear from this perspective, anyway.

Denji bounces in his seat, madly giggling like he may have just snuck a sip of Aki's beer without anyone looking. At each interval of the story, he keeps interrupting with and what then? or what happens next? And when some new element of chaos gets introduced, his shoulders shake raucously. Angel gives a startlingly accurate impersonation of Aki, and Denji is already on his back, rolling, nearly brushing shoulders with his wings with how hard he's laughing. ]

Pfffft, holy crap, this human's such a dumbass! I almost feel bad for those pachinko punks. Almost.

[ Maybe if their pain weren't just as funny to him. ]

So wait, I'm confused about that last part — was the human in charge the one who slipped or was it Aki? Honestly, it was kinda confusing figuring out who did what 'zactly in your story… You should just call Aki by his name next time. Just sayin'.

[Call Aki Hayakawa by his name? Angel's brows pull a little tighter, unhappy with the idea. He slides his wings away from the rolling motion of Denji on the floor and looks toward Aki briefly, but the stare ends up lingering. Because Aki is smiling.]

[He looks a little tipsy, sure, but he's smiling. At what? he wants to ask. The story? The way Denji is rolling on the floor like a dog? He doens't know. Doesn't get it. Hardly ever does he see this human smile and tonight he's caught it at least twice. It's not like he's never seen him around Denji before, so what is it about this set-up that has made it happen twice? Denji said he was sad, but you wouldn't get that at all from his faint smile right now.]

"Human-kun" is easier to say than "Aki Hayakawa."

[Then just call him Aki would be the reply, but he doesn't really want to. He can't explain why. He just doesn't want to.]

And the human who owned the pachinko parlor fell. And he just watched it happen.

[Aki sighs, the smile gone as he replies, "He was a whole meter away when he fell." But Angel shrugs. They still got kicked out after, and that seemed to embarrass him, so. Embarrassing story told.]

[Though Aki does tell Denji, in terms of Angel's way of speaking, "You get used to him using 'human' and 'devil' to describe everything. Haven't you ever heard people say devils don't remember names?" It's a commonly held belief, one which Angel doesn't argue with.]

[ Needless to say, Denji misses the smile and Angel's perplexed look by folly of his amusement. His laughter subsides only once Aki tells him about this alleged name theory. Truthfully, he can see how it holds water — just look at Beam. That weirdo crows out Lord Chainsaw this and that every time he sees him. There are plenty of devils who probably couldn't care less about names and who they're attached to, but about what a name symbolizes. What it represents.

But then, there are devils like Pochita. Ones that learn your name and remember the one you gave them, untethered to fear or power, but something else. Something secret. ]

I guess that could be true. [ It's not worth arguing over, though. ] Human-kun.

[ …No, it sounds plain odd coming from him and Aki is less syllables. Faster to say when he's begging him to make something new for dinner. Plus, he shouldn't steal Angel's gimmick. His typical annoying antics are reserved for when it's not this late, when Angel doesn't look more than half-asleep, and when Aki doesn't look so… un-Aki-like.

Wait a second. He squints at him. ]

Yeesh, are you drunk already? [ He turns to Angel. ] If he passes out, we're gonna have to tuck 'em in.

[Aki shakes his head at Denji's attempt, dismissing it before he gets too carried away with it. He doesn't really like that Angel only calls him that or "hey" or "you" or sometimes, if he's just the right distance away, "you there." Like he's some interchangeable person to him.]

[But he's definitely not drunk, and Angel comments on that before he can.] He's still sober. This is called being tipsy, he said. [See, he can remember things like the difference between intoxication and tipsiness, but not human names. Such a pain. Aki rolls his eyes.] You should still call him Aki Hayakawa. You're half human still, yourself.

[Or thereabouts. He gets to his feet and sheds the jacket Aki had given him, briefly looking at the mess they've accumulated. Not his problem.] I'm using the toilet. You should clean up. [And off he goes to take care of that. Aki sighs and begins to gather their junk, wrapping up some of the half-eaten food and assembling the garbage into one pile. No, he's not drunk, but he feels much more pleasant than he did about an hour ago. Whether it's due to Angel or Denji or their combined efforts, he doesn't know. Doesn't really want to examine, either. Or give Denji the credit for.]

[Before they can get that far, however, Angel is back, now holding what looks like Meowy's brush. Not the deshedding one, but the one with softer bristles to mimic grooming that Power got once in their outings because she didn't think Meowy should be doing all the work (though Aki and Denji are the ones she instructs to use it).]

Chainsaw-kun. Use this on these.

[He flaps his wings just enough to make it clear what he means. Aki looks at him like he's nuts, but doesn't stop him, continuing with the trash gathering.]

[ His head perks up from where he's laying on the bed, having gotten back up there at some point with his rolling done. Probably simply to pester Aki and get in the way of his cleaning, like a dog who insists on being included in everything, even passively, but he pauses in doing that at Angel's return. Gives him a strange look, unsure if he heard him right. And then he really feels like he's in the twilight zone when Aki doesn't seem to care at all, barely even argues. Maybe because he's drunk? Well, tipsy, according to them both…

Ugh, forget that. Does this guy think he can just boss him around? A complaint he keeps to himself as he hops off the bed to take the brush, fully expecting Angel to just plop down right there at the threshold of the room. He rubs the bristles against his palm, considering its texture and how much force he should apply. Angel's wings already look kinda nice and downy, so probably not much. ]

I thought you hated me.

[ Bit of a leap to make from someone setting ironclad boundaries with him, but that's just how Denji's thinking operates. In extremes. ]

It won't like hurt you or anything if I do this and, I dunno, your feathers come out, right?

[Hate is a very strong word to describe Angel's feelings about anything. He wouldn't even say he hates working. Yes, Denji is extremely annoying and yes, he keeps touching him without asking and yes, he makes absolutely no sense with 75% of the things he says, but he doesn't hate him. Even Aki looks surprised that Denji has come to that conclusion, stating, "He doesn't hate you, he's just like that."]

I can't reach the feathers in the middle of my back easily. And he's no good at doing it. ["He" being Aki. He was given the task once and failed horribly, barely brushing the feathers out at all. It was also way too ticklish with how gentle he was being. Denji is less caring, he figues.] So I'll let you try it next.

[He does, in fact, sit down right in front of the doorway when Denji comes over, because why move when it's a spot that works? Facing away, he stretches his wings out gradually, the wingspan nearly doubling as he does so, Angel's expression that of someone stretching their arms after a long day.] Just go right down the ones in the middle of my back, there... The ones I can't reach. [He won't attempt to teach him wing vocabulary, instead reaching back to grab at the bottom of his tertials, trying to touch his scapulars to illustrate where he means for Denji to brush.] There's a lot stuck in there, they need to come out. But don't pluck them. They'll fall out if they want to fall out. Got it?

[ Denji reacts to Aki's correction with a slow blink, somewhat understanding what just like that means, yet also, not at all, somehow. Well, it's not as if he would've been torn up inside if Angel did hate him. The same way Denji doesn't like guys, guys don't like him. They shouldn't. It's why he recoils when Beam lavishes him in too much admiration, why when he sometimes sees something softer, rounder, in Aki's expression, something outside of his usual deep-seated frustration, he feels a little sick inside.

With Angel, though, a mutual not-hate is… fine. He can live with that. Not sure why. ]

Yep. Got it.

[ He joins him right there on the outskirts of the room, knees quietly dropping to the floorboards. Quietly, because he doesn't need another displeased voice yelling at him from below, too. He takes the brush to where he about half-sure he's being directed, dragging the bristles down his innermost feathers, watching the pale vanes part, then jump right back into place with the combing motion. Really, he's mimicking what he does whenever Power assigns him grooming duty for Meowy. Except Angel doesn't have the same amount of mats that Meowy sometimes does (or Power, for that matter), so there there isn't as much of a need to force the brush down as strongly. But he does so, anyway. His "technique," if you can call it that, hasn't failed him yet.

A few feathers float to the ground with each downward stroke and, without stopping, Denji pinches one out from mid-air. ]

Woah, it feels just like the feathers inside my pillow…

[ Yes, the feathers that pop out from his case whenever he and his fiend roommate have spontaneous pillow fights on the other side of the wall. He gives the spindle of the quill a twirl. ]

So, whaddaya think? Am I better than Aki?

[Aki is busy trying to scoop up some crumbs into one of the plastic snack bags, so his notice of the situation is a little delayed. He only notices because the room is already a little dim with only his bedside lamp on, so when Angel's halo starts to flicker and sharpen its shine like a lightbulb with too much power going into it, he sees the shadows cast across the room grow brighter and finally looks over - just as Angel exhales a long, distinctly pleasured sound like a sigh, his head dropping down to rest his forehead onto his knees.]

You're way better.

[Aki's eyes blink in shock at both the flickering of his halo, the noise he just made, and what he says. Because - seriously?! He only did it once, it couldn't have been that bad. And what the hell was that sound?? It was like a...]

[But the next time Denji goes right over his scapulars, right next to where his wings meld into the skin of his back where the feathers are smaller and the most downy, he full on shudders, his toes curling in the socks.]

Way, way better.

[...Aki sets his jaw, grabbing everything he's gathered and forcibly pushing past them both to exit the room. Hopefully neither of them use the halo's brighter light to see how red his face is. With annoyance, of course.]

Eh?!

[ A short yip inflects out of him when Aki lobs his way through the door, as if he'd stepped on his tail in the process. Not meaning to, Denji shoots into Angel's back to avoid getting elbowed by him or smacked by the bag of trash, the head of the brush kneading into those petal-like feathers. Close enough to feel his springy hairs tickling the underside of his chin, but just short of actually resting against him. What the hell was that?

As soon as the owner of the room is gone, he leans back, neck screwed around to peek out the door, following his trajectory with some mixture of irritation and bewilderment. And maybe a spritz of concern scored between his drawn brows, however, sensing himself lingering too long, he moves back. Rubs the ball of his palm across his forehead, trying not to feel embarrassed about the whole thing. That whole light show with Angel's halo… ]

Dude, what was that about? [ He's still brushing him, but noticeably away from that stretch of wing nearest to the center of his spine that Angel seems to like so much. ] You didn't have to say it twice. [ Once would've been enough to last Denji his whole sorry life. While he wouldn't necessarily mind hearing his breath cascade out like that again, to have that effect on someone, anyone, honestly, he — he feels really weird. Like he can't fully let himself preen about it, not if — ] Aki's gonna cry again.

[Angel flusters a little at the sudden close contact, in the same way a cat would jump at spotting a cucumber resting where it wasn't before. He looks over his shoulder when Denji finally backs off, hearing the change in his voice and the way he's moved away from that really-good-feeling spot. What the hell? Was it that wrong of him to simply comment that Denji is better at this...?]

You think that kind of thing would make a human cry?

[What, him simply saying Denji did a good job? Angel doubts he hears that kind of thing very often, anyway.]

People are always either too gentle or too rough with me. You did it just right.

[He turns his head around, looking across the living room and into the kitchen where Aki is packing everything away, trying to clear the counter of their haul. Staring at the pan as he tries to figure out what to do with it.]

...That kind of thing shouldn't make anyone cry.

[ …Eyes rolling up at the disappointment on Angel's face, he strokes the brush down the middle of his wing, gradually inching closer to that inner blade of feathers each time he restarts at the top. Applying the same force, he's being careful to just skirt down the edge, hoping to avoid triggering another surprise reaction. ]

Maybe there's some reason why someone would. [ Denji shrugs, wondering to himself what makes something worth crying over. When somebody you know or a pet dies, that makes sense. Plenty of people have a good cry over that. And, uh, sometimes, if you're kid and you scrape your knee from falling, you'll cry. Maybe it's not a good reason to cry, but it's a reason. Aki probably has something like that, yeah?

Anyway, before Angel can get word in, whether he was going to ask him to elaborate or not, he says: ] Don't ask me, I wouldn't know. I never cried over much when I was full human. That guy's different, I guess.

[ He guesses Angel isn't much of a crier himself, which is why he's as perplexed about these things as Denji is. ]

Hey, you ever seen another devil cry?

[He really doesn't get it. There are a lot of things he thinks he understands about Aki Hayakawa that he doesn't think Denji would understand, but it seems like there are just as many things that Denji understands that Angel doesn't. He drops his gaze, no longer staring at Aki.]

In pain, I guess. [But with tears? With actual emotion other than the fear of death, of being destroyed...?] But not like he does.

[Denji saying he didn't cry much when he was fully human... Does that mean he still doesn't now? He tilts his head to the side, hair spilling over his shoulder as he considers that. But not at all trying to shrug him off. He's still doing a good job of it.]

You've never cried since becoming what you are?

[He's thinking about the bomb girl. If he cried when she died or whatever. But maybe he doesn't know? Maybe he doesn't care. She did try to kill him - Maybe it would be normal not to cry over something like that.]

[ Not like Aki…? Figures. The ability to form attachments to something that isn't their own survival and existence should be incongruous with what makes a devil a devil. Should be. He probably wouldn't believe they had the capacity, either, if he hadn't seen it happen for himself in the flesh. ]

Nah… [ Taking a moment to gather the locks of his hair that'd fallen in the way of his brushing, Denji means to just push it back over the other side of his shoulder, but then he sees something that looks like ice cream clumping his ends together, so he rubs and briefly cards his fingers through to untangle it. Maybe he should be taking this brush through Angel's hair instead of his feathers. ] Do you think something's wrong with me?

[ The question isn't inhibited by any measure of tension or tightness, nothing to indicate that it's a real insecurity of his, though it is. But he'd probably accept any answer from him, even if it's a resounding yes. ]

[When his fingers are suddenly in his hair, Angel pulls forward, away from the touch like Denji just burned him or nicked him with a knife. He looks over his shoulder, giving him a slight curl of his lip (about as much of a glare as someone like Angel is capable of giving), but then Denji asks him that and it fades. It sounds like he's telling a joke. But Angel doesn't really respond to jokes as jokes. So if Denji really did intend it as one, he doesn't care.]

Probably.

[No sympathy in that. He reaches to comb his hair back over his shoulders, the matted bits at the end from when they either got bits of rice stuck in them at some point or soup soaking the ends sticking to his neck.]

I've heard that crying does things inside your brain. It releases chemicals, or stops them up. Human brains always have different chemicals going in and out of them. So maybe crying helps with that.

[He has no idea, though. Nor any idea where he heard about that.]

You should try crying about something. Don't you have anything worth being sad over?

[ Aside from the thumb he keeps bent to hold onto the brush, his palms are open and raised when he whips around to stare at him, as if to say he didn't mean any real harm. Even though he's been bad about touching him just a few times, he can still be good. They only lower once it seems Angel's guard has, and then he's back to combing his feathers, more of the softer tufts falling from his back and sticking to Denji's clothes. He blows some air through his nose when one floats up from the drag of the brush, landing on his nose.

Angel's disinterest, and therefore his impartial assessment, is appreciated, to an extent. He isn't trying to pathologize him or play the armchair psychologist; rather, the way he suggests to Denji, to cry, is no different from someone sampling a meal while it's still hot on the stove top and telling you to add more salt. It's nice. Like even though he's confirming Denji's messed up, there really isn't anything wrong with that state of being. ]

Worth… being sad over? [ A flash of the beach, the only real one he's ever been to. Water rising above his shoulders, then the chrome of his plated head, leaving nothing left but the hollow freefall and a girl whose fuse had gone quiet. ] I don't know. Felt pretty crummy a while ago, like it was hard to brush my teeth or hold anything down in my stomach. And all I wanted was someone else to handle all that stuff for me instead.

[ Maybe Angel knows how that feels? He's always walks through life so lethargic. Misanthropic. ]

Didn't cry, though, because after a couple weeks, I got over it. Life's pretty good, so I shouldn't spend it in bed, y'know, that kinda thing. It shouldn't be possible to be sad when I've got three square meals a day, I get to see Miss Makima at least once a week, and…

[ He pauses. ]

I get to touch feathers this fluffy. S'like being at a petting zoo.

[It's a completely opposite way of living life, that Denji has. He references a time that Angel doesn't know in specifics but can take a guess at, or at least extrapolate left an impression on him. References the feelings of his depression, losing hope. But it all coming back because of what he does have. And what is that...? Food, a crush, and soft feathers. Angel stares forward.]

There's so much more, to a life like yours.

[Three square meals a day? Why not make them have 10 courses each? Seeing your crush every day? Why not marrying them, being with them from wake to sleep? And soft feathers, like at a petting zoo? What if you had a coat of them?]

You could be even happier than you are, so happy your current situation seems like sadness. But you're complacent.

[Pot, meet kettle, but he ignores that.]

Maybe that's why you don't cry. Because you don't realize your situation could be better.

[ …A lot of times, certain social cues tend to fall by the wayside of Denji's notice, but Angel has this economy to the way he speaks, this frankness that brooks no room for misunderstandings: critical as they are, these are his genuine, plain fact observations. In the same way he can tell that, Denji can't shake this distinct sense there's much being left unsaid that he probably wouldn't understand, no matter if it were broken down on paper or phonetically sounded out to him.

For example, what Angel means by a life like his. What happiness looks like, if it's not this, if it's not just fool's gold, sadness muted by distance. By a fragrant kitchen, food on the table, people to share it with. Smoke licking up the side of your building, that you can ignore, just because the window is closed.

His brushing doesn't falter as he asks, a little emptily, a little curiously: ] So what's it like, then, to live better? Is it dying? Like you always say you wanna.

[Dying... Does he really think Angel wants to die simply to live a better life? He's such a strange person. Like someone who can't do simple math, who stumbles over two plus two. But maybe he should expect that, based on the decisions he's watched Denji make.]

Humans... really have everything.

[His gaze stays pointed somewhere in the living room, away from where Aki continues cleaning up in the kitchen, the gentle clinking of dishes, the occasional hiss of tap water. The thud of the tap shutting the water off. Drip, drip. Silence.]

You're born, you fall in love, and then you get to die. Yet you don't appreciate those simple things.

[Angel has been pretty specific in referring to Denji as half-human, half-devil, so even he isn't sure if he's talking about Denji, himself, right now. If he's just complaining in general.]

That's why humans should suffer, I think. There should be a punishment for not enjoying that kind of freedom.

[ Huh. Interesting way to put his perspective and all, but Denji finds himself staring hard at the creamy feathers striping down, nonplussed. The brush making a short up-and-down sawing motion in the same spot of his wing, instead of bringing it to the arches as he has been up to now. The main reason: He's thinking. Does Angel really want to die and humans to suffer? Or does he just want the freedom to — to have everything? ]

Okaaay, no offense, but you sound mega jealous.

[ …Jealous or not, maybe Angel should have every right to that emotion. Devils don't experience birth the same way humans do, there's no memory of adolescence, no courting rituals for love. Certainly no one to mourn when they eventually lay dead and ruined from some vicious attack — and it will be vicious. It's not accident or disease that will take a devil, after all. ]

I dunno, me, personally? That just feels kinda backwards. Wouldn't people be able to appreciate those simple things more if there were less suffering?

[ He's technically taking a stance here, but Denji isn't really married to it. Mostly because, if there were less suffering, he would be out of the job, wouldn't he? That'd be a shame. ]

Whose fault is the suffering?

[There's no outward reaction to being called selfish, no huff or glower or flinch of his wings (well, aside from before that when Denji kind of misaligns a few feathers with the sawing motion of the brush). He probably is a version of jealous. But that's mostly due to not having much of a choice in the matter.]

Devils only exist because humans are afraid of things. If there was no fear and humans could only enjoy the lives they have, then none of us would have to exist. Everyone could live in peace.

[On both sides - but that's not going to happen any time soon.]

But humans can't enjoy the peace they could have, hence where things stand. It's like a divine sacrament, to suffer and be afraid.

[...He pauses. Considers who he's talking to.]

Then again, someone as happy-go-lucky as you wouldn't be so happy if you didn't have devils to kill to impress a woman like Makima...

[ Oh, good point. ]

Good point, I'd have to go hunt a polar bear or something to impress Miss Makima. But just last week, I learned from TV they're going extinct! So that'd seriously suck ass.

[ They may be apex predators with the strongest bite strength of all the bears, but he'd still like to pet and climb on the back of one. Instead of that other stuff. ]

And, I guess… if devils weren't around, I wouldn't have come to Tokyo — or binged a bunch of cool movies at the theater. [ He would have lived his life without ever finding the one singular film he'd remember for all eternity — or maybe, in another life, he would have found another film, but it wouldn't have been something he shared with Makima. That made them both cry, their faces animated in the light of the silver screen, colored by the depth of understanding of someone else's suffering, feeling less alone — he blinks, suddenly, like he's been under hypnosis and someone's finally said the right word to wake him up.

That's right, they'd cried back then, didn't they? That was the last time Denji ever cried. ]

…Maybe you're right, maybe human suffering is good! 'cause with human suffering, that way devils — [ Devils, like the one throbbing in his chest. Condensation to the clouds, rain to sea — it always goes back to the unravelable link between humans and devils. ] They can have a turn pickin' a card from the deck and have a chance at happiness, too. It's not all rainbows and butterflies and sunshine, but that's what makes getting a winning hand feel even better…

[ It doesn't occur to Denji, because he was born into this game with a bad hand to begin with (and in his eyes, joining together with one only increased his ability to find some semblance of happiness), that the odds aren't equitably spread among devils. Technically, the same thing can be said of humans, too. ]

Anyway, with all this talk — you believe in nature, then? Not nurture, like Aki?

[ A call-back to his earlier question. ]

[He really is the sort who can find happiness even in the worst situations. It's a little sickening, in a way. But it also explains Makima's dealings with him. A simple guy is easy to order around.]

[Angel pulls his wings in, shrinking them back down to their usual size as the feathers fold in while he stretches his arms up. Nature or nurture, huh. For someone like him, only one answer makes sense.]

Of course it's nature. Because I'm a devil, first and foremost, and an angel second.

[Aki is patting his hands dry on his pants as he heads over, having given them time to hog the front of the doorway while they chatted and brushed like this is some kind of sleepover, but he's getting tired. Angel gets to his feet and stretches his whole body, joints in his back cracking as he does. Aki asks, "Are you two done? It's time to go to bed." And Angel nods. Looks behind himself, down at some of the feathers that dropped onto Denji from before.]

Thanks. [But he's not picking those up, instead walking back into the bedroom to figure out how they're sleeping. Aki tells Denji to go and get his bed, but he doesn't seem as annoyed as he was before with both of them in there. More like he's come to accept it.]

[ The nature of devils, their intrinsic hate for humans that has existed long before wood could take the shape of anything that wasn't a tree, before thought could be inked to parchment — he knows that's what Angel claims to believe in, and he thinks he sorta believes in it, too, like when he'll see a good looking guy and hate him on the spot, that kinda thing. It's just, does nature have to be so singular? ]

Uh, yeah. No prob.

[ Denji's still holding the brush when he looks up to see Aki return and Angel leave behind his molt of feathers, right there at the entryway. He doesn't want to pick these up, either…

But also it seems like Denji doesn't have to, since Aki's kicking him out to drag his futon over to his room. Or at least that's his understanding. He's not just gonna slam the door right behind him once he leaves, right? Eyeing Aki furtively, he slowly inches around the pile, brush dropping on top of it, as if looking out, in case he pulls something fast on him, then rushes over to the next room over. Seconds is all it takes before he's rushing back out again, his stampede raucous as he comes running into Aki's bedroom, the futon picking up lint behind him from the way he's lugging it. ]

— Safe!

[ Denji shouts, sliding back in, like someone making it back to home plate. He drops his mattress down right at the side of Aki's bed, meaning that at any time he gets out of bed in the night to go to the bathroom or get a glass of water, he'll have to walk over him. And Denji will know, like some kind of guard dog intent on tracking their master's movements. ]

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