windfall | unfortunately, like a fool, i said, "it's not like i want to let you go"

unfortunately, like a fool, i said, "it's not like i want to let you go"

( continued from here! )

[ Denji stares up Aki's way, visibly annoyed, as she brooks another crest of colorless smoke invading her senses, slender tendrils ghosting over their heads, nearly transparent in the lamplight. This nicotine-addicted slag. Always with the insults… It means kissing! She kissed them! What other meaning could make out have? Still, she roughly erases what characters she was writing (she'd forgotten midway what the stroke pattern to one kanji was), decorating her report in rubber shavings. ]

I mean, you saw Emi-chan's stuff. A bunch of her dresses and skirts looked kinda itchy, but she had some grown-up outfits in the very, very back!

[ Instead of writing what she took, her pencil draws a series of doodles across the page: some peanut snacks, a bottle of tea looted from the mini fridge, a vial that she kindly labels as pirfume, and then the garment bag. ]

So I took one, since I don't got a whole lotta those. [ Most of her closet is filled with clothes from the secondhand store… and some secondhand straight from Aki's own wardrobe. For example, the tanktop she's wearing under her blouse right now. ] It's gonna make my rack look suuuper sexy on me, and then guys will be linin' up outside our apartment to take me on dates to the zoo and all that!

[ No, Denji doesn't know what the proper attire is for a zoo date. ]

…'course I'm not gonna go, seeing as I'm already taken. But you get the idea. What'd you get?

[ If she's remembering correctly, Aki's hands didn't look as full as her own walking out of the dressing room. Did she not take anything and now she's regretting it? ]

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What, so that's it?

[ Denji doesn't read the form, immediately pushing it aside, like she's getting rid of an obstacle that's blocking her view of Aki. ]

Don't turn this into 'nother lecture! We wrote all that… [ Well, it was Aki who did the writing as Denji fumbled through her memories of the fiend's characteristics and oddities. ] And now it's just done? You aren't curious about that fiend at all, or how she and Emi-chan were connected?

[ As she thought form the very beginning, these reports really are a waste of time. There's no payout for remembering so much about other people. ]

At least when I talk about masturbating, I can look forward to gettin' horny again. But writing stuff down about those two, it's like — like getting blue-balled!

[Aki rolls her eyes. She really doesn't get it at all.]

It doesn't matter if they were or weren't. That fiend is dead now. You figured out it was weak to loud noises, and in the future you'll use that kind of training to kill other devils.

[Because that's all they are to her in the end. Practice, for something bigger.]

Save that other talk for your diary. Mister Makima doesn't want to hear about that crap. He wants to hear about how you succeeded in killing a devil - not how you got off on the toilet.

[Beat.]

And stop masturbating in there, you take too long.

[ …The fiend is dead, Emi-chan paid them their dues, and whatever untold story there is to this case will have to be left to some other overworked government employee. So, yeah. That's a wrap to their role in this, she can't argue against that. But what she can argue against is — ]

Hey, you dumped that Shit Devil into my room. I've got nowhere else to have some Denji time! Just piss into a bottle, if you've really gotta go. Isn't that hard with practice.

[ Suddenly, she perks up. Grins. ]

I can even show you. Took me awhile back then, but I'm pretty much a master at aiming now!

[Aki stares at her, the pieces falling into place in her mind. She had blamed it on Power, figuring a girl would never be able to, but...]

Is that where that bottle came from? You? [She found it a few weeks ago, sitting in the corner of Denji and Power's bedroom, when she went in to get the laundry basket. Had even shouted at Power for being a disgusting devil and not to do anything like it again, then ignored his screams that 'twas Denji who doth pissed or whatever the hell. But now she's realizing, for once, that bastard was telling the truth.]

You're seriously disgusting, you know that? No one's ever going to want get like that with someone who pees in bottles.

Disgusting…?

[ Back when she lived with her old man, and he would hog the bathroom because he'd have too much to drink, it'd been all she could do. Of course, there was the option of finding a spot outside to squat, but this alternative usually felt more — decent. Civilized, in her mind, despite having abandoned most other human civilities. And, surely, more appropriate than wetting herself. This happened less frequently as she aged, of course, but there were just moments, you know…! ]

You mean that? Guys are… gonna find me gross?

[...This is the first time she's realized it?]

You asked if you could eat my scabs once. Anyone would find you disgusting.

[What the hell does she think toilets are for? Aki piles up the report and slides it into its folder.]

You're better than you were, at least. You keep all your food on your plate now, and you actually comb out your hair sometimes.

[ First, Aki shames her, then she starts to (sorta) compliment her. What's the deal? Is she coming down with something? They have been traveling quite a lot these past few weeks, tailing Emi-chan, ensuring she gets wherever she needs to safely, while also following case leads on the side.

Denji gives her a sidelong look that, after a moment, snaps away. ]

What's disgusting is how you waste your scabs… [ Under her breath: ] Geez, I don't even know why that sleazy eyepatch guy asked me to set him up with you.

[ Is it considered bad talking the dead if you call them sleazy? …But he was. ]

Are we done now? Can we go home yet?

[What the hell did she just say?]

[Aki looks at her, momentarily taken aback by how effortlessly she brought him up. A brief, unguarded look of shock, and then it's gone, replaced with a scoff as she looks down to push her chair out. No, she's not going to react to that. Not going to give her the pleasure of seeing her feel gutted by the mere mention of him.]

Stay here, I'll drop this off.

[She picks up the folder, knowing he has to go to Makima's office. She has no desire to watch Denji drool over him right now.]

[Piece of shit. Calling him sleazy when Denji is sleazier than anyone else she's ever met.]

[ Everything in her ears instantly silences. The room goes dead, and she feels the widening of Aki's eyes worse than a splinter in her gut, a blow to the face. But why is that? Her mouth opens to… do what, she isn't even sure of. So the only thing someone like Denji can do is take what she's told. Watch as the older woman takes off, the clip of her loafers trailing after her.

That's as good a sign as any that she fudged that interaction. She'd known Aki was broken up over her old buddy, but don't people get over that stuff after a while? People get hurt and die all the time — in attacks, on accident, on purpose. From what details she gleaned in the debrief, that Himeno was lucky enough to choose. The same kind of choice that drives Aki to lop off her life as easily as discarding the browning edges of a piece of produce.

Well, nothing she can do to manage her senior's moods.

Whenever Aki returns, Denji's parked by the window. It's dark out, but she can still see the walking silhouettes of some other hunters, likely having gotten off their shift, leaving to catch the train for the night. There's a can of warm jasmine tea cupped between her hands, another one just like it atop Aki's desk — both signs that she'd forgone her orders and left the room at some point to go poke at the vending machine. ]

[If anything, at least seeing Makima at the end of her workday is relieving enough. He says something nice to her about doing a good job with Denji on this mission and how she must be teaching her good things and she kind of wants to ask for more nice words - but she won't, of course, because she's not a weirdo or obsessed like someone else. She excuses herself and heads back to her office to get Denji, rounding the desk to get her jacket which is when she realizes there's a can of tea left for her.]

[...It's not like she particularly cares about her leaving the room, but she also doesn't exactly know how to take this offering. She never apologizes and Aki sort of doubts she even realizes she said something shitty. So she tugs on her jacket and motions at her.]

Let's go. I want to stop and get a drink on the way.

[An alcoholic one, not some tea. She grabs the can of tea and snaps it open, taking a drink.]

Make sure you grab all the stuff you took, too. This isn't a storage room.

[ ...It's just tea. It doesn't have to signify a peace offering or an admission of guilt when it only just so happened that two cans fell out of the vending machine at once, which, sure, she'd left a nasty dent in the side of it to get chance to work in her favor, but that hadn't meant anything either. Aki could have simply left it to cool at her desk overnight, and that would have been equally as fine.

Cramming down the urge to do something else outrageous to rid herself of the awkwardly squirming feeling in her stomach, she tosses her own now-crumpled can into the waste bin. Zips over to lump her garment bag into a liftable pile, then joins Aki in passing through the door. ]

So what'd Mister Makima say? Anything about me?

He said I dealt with you well.

[So she can take that however she wants. Aki leads them down the stairs to the front door, tossing the empty can in the recycling near the vending machines as they pass. She looks at Denji's hoard as she pushes the door open, frowning slightly.]

If you can't carry everything, hand something over. [All she has is a box that fits in her pocket, so nothing much to hold.]

[ That's a weird thing for him to say, Denji thinks, but doesn't truly question. Despite the disappointment that makes her jaw drop open, she doesn't once consider that Aki could be lying or messing with her.

At what she says next, her gaze flickers down at her thin arms, the sack overflowing from her hold and nearly dragging against the floor. Somewhere squished under there is the chunky box of perfume she nabbed, that with some reorienting of what all she's carrying, pops out in one hand. The packaging's golden with delicate grooves, but that's about all Denji knows about the fragrance — she hasn't smelled it and certainly can't read what's printed on the box. She clearly chose it based on looks alone. Denji shoves the perfume into Aki's hands, just as her bag starts to cascade from her hold and she has it jerk it back into place. ]

Just don't drop it. I'm gonna wear it on my date with Mister Makima — he said he'd take me to the movies soon.

[ So that's the real reason Denji raided that celebrity's closet. Not to attract an assortment of besotted admirers to take her to the zoo, but just one. It makes her a little more upset that Makima didn't say anything about their plans. ]

I've never been to a fancy kinda place like that before, so I want it to be special…

[Date?]

[Aki accepts the box without hesitation, but her eyes widen when she explains what she plans to use it for. A date? She seriously thinks she's going on a date with Makima?]

[But then she says it - to the movies - and Aki's expression forcibly relaxes a little. Movies, right. Makima likes movies. He's always talking about them if he asks Aki what she did over the weekend and Aki asks him the same. He goes to the theater all the time, but it never seems to be to see something specific. And so what if he's never invited Aki to go? But inviting Denji - that's fine. It's probably nothing that serious. She's a kid, anyway. So why would he have any desire to go on a date? It's probably just a friendly thing. Maybe he mentioned his plans for the weekend and Denji invited herself along. Yeah, it's got to be something stupid like that.]

You're going to the movies in something like that... Seriously?

[She hasn't seen the outfit, but she can only assume it's something flashy. Something idol-like. Hopefully it doesn't have a big poofy skirt.]

You'll be in the dark, you know. ...Have you ever even been on something like a date before?

[ So what if it'll be dark? They'll still be meeting each other in broad daylight… And there's always dinner afterwards, too!

That Aki makes no attempt to mask her disbelief provokes Denji into squeezing her outfit closer, lips popped out in a prominent pout, her chin scratching against the bag. Of course. Always that weird equilibrium to her — when Aki bothers to do something nice for Denji, she immediately has to balance the scales by being an ass.

Maybe in that respect the two of them aren't so different from each other, after all. ]

I've dreamed about it plenty. Holding hands, kissing, having sex under the stars and stuff. [ It's a little roundabout, but it's still a virgin's answer. It sticks at her pride to reply with a straightforward no, for some reason. Like if she admits to it that directly, she'll be giving more fodder for Aki to belittle her with. Even though this way isn't much better. ] That counts as having a bajillion times of experience.

[ Stopping at a waiting crosswalk, Denji pretends to watch the speeding traffic. ]

…You look like you've been on tons of dates with guys.

[Why does it advance so fast in her head?? She doesn't seriously think Makima is going to have sex with her, does she...?]

[But Denji makes her guess about Aki having had a lot of dates and she rolls her eyes as they come to a stop at the light.]

Yeah. Tons.

[Said in deadpan. She isn't really willing to discuss her high school dating life with this idiot.]

You know none of that is going to happen, right? He'll probably watch a flick with you and then send you home. He's not the kind of person who goes on dates with his subordinates.

[Because he hasn't with her.]

Just enjoy the free movie. [The light turns and she crosses, not waiting.] You'll end up disappointed if you build it up too much. Wear something cute for once and leave it at that.

But I'm not just his subordinate. I'm…

[ She doesn't have to think too long to remember what Makima told her; she's spent too many nights thinking about the words before bed, a ritual no different from prayer for her. ]

I'm his pet. [ By the way she's bragging, no one would ever believe that her first reaction to being told how she would have to live her life from then on was indignation. Resentment. ] A dog that only answers "yes" or "woof"!

[ Ignoring her handler's skepticism, Denji rattles on like a blushing schoolgirl proudly sharing the story of a reciprocated love confession to a supportive audience. It's the sort of communion she's never experienced, and maybe having to rush to tail after someone to force them to listen about this good thing that happened to you isn't the same, not really, but it's closest she's ever going to get to it. ]

And he said I was his type when we first met. You might not believe this, but no one's ever said that sorta thing to me before. It was so awesome. Thought I'd actually died and gone to heaven.

[ Anyway, she's telling Aki this to drive home one thing: ] So I can't just treat it like a free movie…

[So she recognizes that Makima views her as a dog, as his pet, as nothing more than a yes-girl, but she's still excited for the idea of going to see a movie because she truly sees it as a date...?]

[It's... depressing, honestly. She can feel herself cringing. Especially at the idea of him telling her she's his type. Seriously, a dumbass sixteen year old who talks about dicks and boobs all the time, who barely weighs enough to turn on the airbag in the passenger seat... Denji actually believes that?]

[But she just sounds so hopeful. So serious. Wishing it's real. So she stares forward, not responding for half a block. Not until they reach the convenience store and she stops her, motioning her inside.]

Let me grab a beer. [Beat.] Get what you want.

[Once she has a fresh six pack, she passes through the aisles on the way to the front to wait for Denji, then pauses. Debates while studying something, then finally plucks something off the rack and brings it to the counter with her: some concealer, closer to Denji's shade than her own.]

[ Throwing the garment bag across her shoulders, Denji weaves in and out of the different aisles, even though she knows she won't be getting any laundry detergent or beer at her age. She just likes looking; it always feels strange that she's allowed to. For a long time, she'd get run out of places like these, for loitering too long without buying anything, trying to stay cool during the summer heatwaves.

Denji grabs a few rolls of onigiri, a new flavor of potato chip she's never had, and — she pauses at the magazine stand. There's a gorgeous girl who looks a bit like Aki on the cover, just with poutier lips and fluffier hair. She's wearing a tight-fitting, cropped vest and bikini bottoms, an arm stretched high above her head, a hand coquettishly propped against her neck, her back arched just right to make her breasts nearly bulge out of her top. The magazine slips between her other items.

When she joins Aki again, it's in the queue line. Denji peers around her, trying to look at what she's decided to pick up. ]

All that booze for you? You act so stand-up, but you're just like that old stitch-face, huh?

[ Stitch-face. Who else could she possibly be talking about? ]

[Aki isn't paying attention to what Denji sets down, too busy getting her ID out of her wallet and the proper amount of coins, holding the former up to the cashier to scan. Thanks to that, the magazine is approved with the beer and Aki doesn't notice until she's bagging up their items.]

I'm not as bad as her, I just ran out when - Hey!

[She reaches out and grabs the magazine sitting below the items, revealed as the clerk places the beer into a bag.]

I'm not covering your porn habit - I'm sorry, please remove this one, she snuck it in. [She lowers her head slightly in apology as the cashier nods, typing something on the register.] Go put it back. You pay for your own smut.

What — that's not porn!

[ A fist-sized crinkle explodes across the cover as Denji defensively clutches the magazine to her chest. As unlikely as it sounds, she's telling the truth. The model on the front is pretty and all, but she's never gotten off to… to other girls! God, how the hell could Aki insinuate that? Face oven-warm, she shakes Aki's shoulder, like a dog pawing at someone's lap. ]

This is for research and dating advice! C'mon, please, please, just lemme get it!

[ But she knows this is Aki she's dealing with. So after a few seconds of indignantly staring her down, she huffs, trudging on back to the magazine stand and returns it to its rightful column. It looks almost as if she may make a beeline out of the corner store, but she comes to sullenly regroup by Aki at the counter with crossed arms. ]

Stick up her ass…

[ Their items bagged, change received, the cashier sends them off with a, "Come again soon!" Then, begins to tend to the next customer in line. Not making eye contact with Aki, she grumbles at her: ] Seriously, I wasn't gonna do anything dirty.

You don't need dating advice. You're not dating anyone anytime soon.

[Given their age difference, Aki hopes the cashier just thinks she's her older sister, but in truth she knows she just sounds like a mom. Taking the bag and shaking her head at Denji's continued whining, she heads out the door and down the path leading home.]

What they say in magazines isn't true, anyway. You shouldn't believe that kind of crap.

[It pisses her off for some reason, that Denji thinks she's going to be dating anyone. She's so annoying and bratty and stupid and flat, why would anyone ever? She's lucky Aki gives her the time of day. Aki huffs and shakes her head.]

You got your outfit, and I got you something to cover that zit by your nose. That's all you need to waste your time on.

No way? You're joking…

[ She momentarily leaves Aki in pursuit of verifying this by staring at her reflection in the window of some closed storefront, squinting into the murky deepness and angling her face one way, then the next. …Honestly, she can't tell a single thing from how dark it is. Realizing that, her expression pinches, and Denji hurries after to catch up with Aki, hands patting at her face. Which, of course, is probably the worst thing you can do with acne-prone skin. But Denji doesn't know that. ]

The date's in a few days, [ she agonizes, because it is a date. No matter how many times Aki refuses to acknowledge it as one. She shakes at her superior's arm. ] Hayapai, Hayapai… [ Time to turn up the charm — ] Show me that thing you got! I'll put it on right now!

Quit touching your face...

[Aki pauses as Denji examines herself in the window, then continues on as she rushes up - Only to groan when she starts shaking at her arm that isn't carrying the bag.]

I'll show you when we get home. You can't put it on here. You need a real mirror.

[And not a car mirror or a reflective sticker. Ugh, she's not going to drop the idea that it's a date, is she?]

You've never used anything like this before? Any kind of make-up, or powder...?

Uh, well… I found this box with different types of red paint in the dumpster once. It was kinda crumbly but basically good as new, so I took it home.

[ It would be clear to anyone else that the blush palette was past expiration… ]

I tried putting some on the next day, and around the usual time I used 'ta get called out to run a devil job, I come out — you know what the first thing those yakuza jerkwads said when they saw me? They said I looked like the Clown Devil! And they start laughing! What the hell, right?

[ Denji gnaws on a thumb as she gripes about the memory, like she can still here them jeering at her as they drove her out. …Though when she'd stolen a look at herself in the rearview mirror, her entire face looked like an abstract painting. That is, if abstract painting were made completely with cake batter.

Warily, she asks: ] That thing ya got — it's not gonna make me look ugly, is it?

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