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? ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ Would it be better? She's doesn't know. The idea just makes her wonder what type of sicko could do that, could see a girl without all the bells and whistles, just flesh hugging close to her bones trying to stomach down the skeleton that should have been tossed, digested with the rest of the garbage and barfed back up into powdery fragments in some junkyard a long, long time ago. Could see that and still desire it.

Her face turns lightly to regard Aki. She pushes herself up on an elbow. ]

…Where do you usually go to find someone like that?

[ Like there's a designated office or store you can buy a person made-to-order that Aki must personally visit. She likes Makima, of course, there's no question about it. She likes that he likes her because she can do something that only she can do. That she's special to him, potentially. But that doesn't keep curiosity from burgeoning inside her, licking at an undying wick that shouldn't even be able to hold a flame anymore.

This is a very weird pep talk. Seems to be working, though. ]

[Where does she... go? For someone like that? Aki doesn't know what she's trying to ask here - If she means how she found the people she's close to, or if she means telling her which bars she's been to that don't have guys she'd rather throw through a wall than take home with her.]

It's not like you can go to one specific place, but...

[But where does she go, where she feels normal and can be herself, can have blood in her hair or guts on her clothes and not worry about being gaped at? Where does she not care how she looks, doesn't put her hair up and just sits around drinking at her own pace?]

...I guess I feel that here. Living with you two.

[Well. Power judges everything they do, but it's not like she especially puts any weight into his words. And Denji - even though they might bicker, she'd probably never laugh at her for wearing mismatched shoes. Probably say something like, "Hey, you do that, too?" There's something relieving in that.]

[ She takes in Aki's casual response, like a fish staring up from the small pond its always swam circles inside, realizing the sky is its own ocean. Her brain burbling on with a glub, glub, glub in substitute of anything intelligent. Coincidentally, also the sound a pot makes when it starts to boil, overheated. ]

Huh. So that counts…

[ Is her own reply, similarly light, as she rolls over to face away from Aki. No force, no violence. And then she rolls over again, then a third time, so that she's completely dropped off the edge of the other side of the bed — thud. Her face rubs unpleasantly into the plywood. That's a good thing, it distracts her from the pained stinging in her cheeks and ears, spreading like an allergic reaction. Ah, she never should have climbed into Aki's bed, what if she's got weird doo-doo pube germs stuck to her pillowcase, and now breathing it in's what's got her head all in a tizzy — ]

Rrrghhh…

[ She presses her forehead in harder, for good measure, likely smudging her concealer in the process before picking herself right up and suddenly declaring: ]

I'm gonna change!

[ Her stomps, so harsh, they make the rest of the floorboards rattle as she departs from Aki's room. ]

[If it were anyone else, watching her fall on the floor face-down and then press said face into the wood would make Aki worry and panic. As it is, however, she's seen Denji do much weirder and more harmful things to herself that only a brief bit of worry creases her brow before she hears Denji make that groaning growl noise. She's ready to ask what is it now when she suddenly rockets up and rushes from the room.]

[...Well, fine. Standing up, she grabs the clothes off her bed and begins hanging them back in the closet.]

[It only takes a minute or so, and once she's done she steps out of her bedroom and heads back to the living room, sitting down to resume drinking her beer. She did think about something, though, while putting everything away...]

You can buy your own clothes now, you know. [She calls that out, looking over her shoulder towards Denji and Power's bedroom.] You don't have to hoard all your money or waste it on crap. There's a middle ground.

[ The clothes she'd shed, the ones she hadn't, and a toilet paper roll all accompany her from the bathroom to her bedroom. Once changed into what Aki would probably, finally, consider proper pajama attire, Denji's sat on the ground rubbing away the makeup from under her eyes with a folded square of tissue she'd spat into. A little regretful to see everything scrubbed off so soon after its application, after asking Aki to do her the favor of showing her the ropes. And then watching her follow through with more commitment than something like this should have warranted.

…What if she promised to take on trash duty? Would she do her makeup again for her actual date, then? Oh, but, wait, shouldn't she actually pay her back for this time before thinking about negotiating a next time? Maybe double trash duty, since she let her try on her clothes?

Hm… Nngh… Mmm…

Aki's voice snaps Denji out of her furious contemplation. On all fours, her head peeks out from the door. ]

I don't waste my money! [ Her head ducks down, one sleeve of her shirt slipping lopsidedly from her shoulder with the movement. ] …It's just hard finding the right, uh, fit. 'sides, I'm still growing, right? Don'tcha think I should wait to get better stuff 'til I'm, like, all the way filled out?

[Until she's filled out...? Aki stares at her strangely. Is that why her clothes seem to barely fit her and are all but falling off all the time? Despite her state of undress, she manages not to look away.]

Do you think that's going to happen overnight or something?

[She must just mean her boobs. It's not like Aki has that impressive of a chest, but still... She did have to buy new bras at some point when she first moved to Tokyo. But for some reason she doubts Denji will have that issue.]

It's not like your clothes will stop fitting just because your boobs grow in. And besides, you don't get too much bigger from what you are at this age.

[Beat.]

Not -- that you need to. [Beat.] You're plenty big enough. [Yeah. Good pep talk.]

You sure? How can ya tell?

[ That hadn't been what Denji meant, the thing about her chest, but she doesn't issue Aki any sort of correction. Just runs with the flow of the conversation, barely noticing the clumsiness dogging the woman's words. Mainly, because, well, she never gets tired of talking about this stuff.

But, also, it could happen overnight! Look at her. She healed from life-threatening wounds and sprouted dangerous weapons from her arms basically overnight, so. ]

There are some dudes that get way taller outta nowhere, though… [ She picks herself up, stopping by the waste bin in the kitchen to toss her makeshift wipes. The remote's there on the counter, so she points at the TV and up goes the daily news report, as always. Joins her at the table shortly afterwards. ] And you — you're sayin' that when you were my age, you had huge milkers like that? No massaging or change in your three square meals at all?

[How can she tell...? Has Denji just never paid attention to herself like that? Never measured herself, looking at herself in the mirror and watched the change happen? ...Probably not, all things considered. Aki slowly sips her beer, thinking - then nearly chokes on it when she speaks again.]

Huge -- Don't say that! [Ugh, talking about tits with Denji was the worst idea.] Don't say "huge milkers" to anyone! Or even think it! They're not even that big!

[Pointing to them, like Denji hasn't seen them before and is basing this off hearsay.] Just because you're too skinny to have anything... Look, I just wanted you to like what you wear for once! And not be stuck in that uniform all the time!

[ Denji's gaze drips downward, clearly dismissing Aki's gesturing hands as she ponders the other woman's chest, the roundness curving through her top. Not so abundant it'd make the buttons strain and stretch against the placket, but if she looks long enough, she can see a tease of skin through the smalls openings in the slit…

Geez, it doesn't even look like she's wearing a push-up bra. ]

…I don't get why you're being nice, since ya seemed pretty against me and my date with Makima at first. [ Her eyes shift away. Upper lip hooking up as she picks at her teeth with a pinky nail, she raises the remote again, swapping the news for some type of shoe or movie. Some couple donned in robes are clinking champagne flutes in their hotel room. ] But I toldja before, remember? I don't do owing people. So we should trade something. Let's say… what I got from Emi-chan for that shirt-dress thing you got from whoever.

[ An exchange of unwanted gifts. Seems fair to Denji. ]

I bet it'd fit you more than me.

[ So she's aware that the sizing wasn't a match and still insisted that it was suitable for the movies… ]

[Aki wants to argue that she really hasn't done anything that special for Denji, has just offered her a dress she doesn't wear and somehow managed to convice her not to wear lingerie in public... But she's so pointed about this kind of thing, arguing feels like a lost cause.]

Alright.

[Aki was definitely closer in size to Emi-chan's bust than Denji, but... Is it really something that agitates her? She slowly turns her gaze to the TV, watching the woman on screen sip from her glass. The neckline of her dress accentuates her chest nicely, the shot framing her so she's front and center as she says something flirtatious to her partner.]

[It's not that she's against the date, she wants to say. Just that this - this very scene on the screen right now - isn't something Denji will ever have with Makima. She should know that. But there's just no convincing her.]

Just have fun. Don't go overboard trying to impress him - Since you aren't impressive, anyway. [Something less serious, her usual style of dry insult.] You're still a kid, so you should enjoy this sort of thing while you can.

[ Alright?

Denji's lips tighten at the corners, holding back on echoing Aki's own words back at her. She's been haggling all her life, has gotten particularly used to it in this household, waging a circular war of chores and favors. Going back-and-forth. Compromising, or promising to compromise and then not. But Aki's really taking the thing off her hands that easily?

So puzzled, Denji misses the woman's partner lean forward and make an obvious innuendo that'd normally have her giggling and rolling on the ground with the seat cushion hugged to her chest — and then she registers the insult. Okay, now that's normal. That's something she knows how to respond to. ]

Pfft, I'm the most impressive person I know.

[ The smug tilt to her lips speaks for itself as she kicks a foot out under the table to pat at Aki's heel. There, there. Third or fourth impressive isn't that bad. Consolatory, almost playful, more along the lines of a puppy nipping at an older dog's tail. She knows she's being a little shit. ]

Don't worry your lil' head off! I'll report back all the fun and important stuff we did when I get home after. [ Because somewhere in the past few hours of being helped and advised in these unfamiliar matters, she's gotten it into her head that Aki may really enjoy hearing how her first not-date went. ] What he was wearing, what kinda popcorn we ordered, if our hands touched at the same time reaching into the bucket…

[ Already, it's sounding more detailed than the reports she has to do for her actual job. ]

[Denji isn't the most impressive person anyone knows. Maybe in terms of being half-devil, but isn't that only because her only competition are all probably dead? ...Maybe, at least? Like that sword lady and the bomb guy. ...Huh, what about all that, anyway? She was kind of despondant after all that bomb stuff, wasn't she? But now...]

[...She doesn't want to bring it up. Doesn't want to make ripples in still water. She seems happy right now, bragging about her date with a guy who obviously sees her more as a dog than a potential love match, so why ruin it? Aki just nods and reachs for the remote to turn the channel back to the news.]

I've never seen him in anything but his uniform. [She's being a little nicer now, for some reason. No longer arguing about it, not trying to voice her dissent about it being a date or not. It doesn't really matter, in the end.]

[When it's later and she trades over the outfit to her, still new with tags, Aki takes the lingerie in turn and studies it with a frown in the bathroom mirror. Her hair pulled down and resting damp on her back, she holds the red gown up to her chest and gauges the length on her body. It definitely looks shorter on herself than Denji, probably thanks to her extra inches she has on the kid, but when she finally pulls it on and fits the straps over her shoulders, she's surprised to find... it's actually way too small for her. Her breasts aren't anything to write home about, sure, but this outfit actually makes her look two sizes over her usual. Feeling her face flush just looking at her reflection, she turns to see herself from the side and reaches to tug the fabric over her ass. It barely reaches her thighs.]

She was going to wear this out... [She mutters under her breath, annoyed. What would she do without her? Probably die in a ditch or something. While looking utterly ridiculous to boot.]

[ There's a lot that's happened since joining Public Safety. A lot she can't remember in precise detail, some things she doesn't want to ever again. Even this night will probably just be another page in an unopened book left shelved and untended to in the library of her memories. Next to the ones involving Reze and the beach, the night she spent sleeping on Himeno's floor, the way her thumb felt tracing the perfect alignment of Makima's teeth…

Well, no, that last one she can't seem to ever get out of her head. But everything else? There's no point in expending her energy on things that have passed.

So it doesn't really matter if she forgets all those lectures Aki's given her about respecting the privacy of your roommates, blah, blah, blah.

The pigtails she's still got in her hair almost look like flopping dog ears when she raps against the bathroom door, an effort to push Aki into hurrying out so that she can bask in all the glory of being correct — that the lingerie fits her like a silken glove. Also, she needs to piss, and since her roommate seems to have a problem with her squatting over an empty tea bottle and finishing her business up that way… Rather than wait a couple seconds more for her to come out, she flings the door straight open, not blinking at how it thuds against the wall. Aki ]

What the hell's taking so long…

[ She stops.

For some reason, it'd never occurred to her that the bust might fit her too well, too tight. Too right. Her hand settles over her mouth, at first shocked, then confused, then accepting, back to confused again, before finally settling into simple curiosity, palm gliding down so that her chin can rest in the curve between her thumb and index finger. ]

Your ass is as huge as your tits, [ she observes. ]

[Denji bangs on the door and Aki ignores her. Because how many times has the reverse happened, really? She's lucky to get a reply half the time when she slams on the door to hurry up and to stop falling asleep on the shitter. Aki can take an extra five minutes in the humidity to try on the outfit in the comfort of her own -]

Denji! [Scratch that, apparently, because she forgets that the idiot she lives with has absolutely no compassion or care for the simple idea of privacy. Aki quickly covers her chest, then her crotch, her face growing bright red as Denji examines her so obviously, studies her with such intent, her mouth opening and closing like a fish.]

...You stupid dumbass, I'll strangle you! [Fumbling to grab a towel to wrap around herself, she has to choose between her chest and her crotch. Given that the dress slides up her thighs when she tries to push past Denji to get out and reveals her panties, that wins out and she wraps it around her waist.] You can't just burst into the bathroom, you idiot! What if I was shitting?!

[ None of Aki's threats, insults, and hypotheticals make a dent in Denji's conscience. Her torso bends, angling to get a better view of the underside of the outfit, wondering if it's maybe just that the outfit makes her look good and not that her body — just looks like that.

Except then the towel blocks her sight. ]

And where d'you think you're going? You can't just walk off, you're wearing my clothes —

[ Well, not hers anymore, but the claim's the only justification she's got to really be hounding Aki like this. She doesn't go to the effort of holding her hostage in her own bathroom, necessarily but she doesn't make it easy for Aki to squeeze past, jutting her shoulder out and feeling the brush of soft chest shove her side.

Immediately, she follows out after her. A hand reaching to snag one of the back straps to the dress around a hooked finger, releasing it in quick succession with a snap against her spine. ]

If you were really shitting, I woulda heard you making shitting noises and not come in! Gimme some credit here!

You gave them to me!

[The strap snaps against her spin and Aki whirls around, ready to deliver a wallopping, but the action just makes her chest flop heavily without any support, the thin fabric nearly sliding aside to expose her entirely. Ugh, this thing is way too small, what was she even thinking?]

I could have - been concentrating! [One hand goes up to adjust the silk, pulling it back over her breast.] You want me to beat your head into the wall when I'm barely dressed? That's the kind of pervert you decided to be tonight?! [The bright red in her cheeks could be embarrassment or anger at this point. Hell, the brighter it gets, the more likely it's a combination of both.]

Oh, you go quiet when you concentrate? That why I never hear you rub one out?

[ For a second there, Aki's fury looked like it may actually prevail into violence. Not that Denji shows enough awareness to consider flinching back, triumphantly grinning straight at her — the same sharp spread of teeth she'd looked down at her with when the toe of sneaker had shot up her crotch that first meeting. Blocking out the view of the sun with her own resplendent pride. Right now, there's no sun in sight and they're both standing on the same flat level, but for some reason Denji has the gall to act like she's on higher ground. ]

C'mon, seriously, what're you embarrassed for? Red isn't bad on you… [ She skims the cinched shape of the gown's waist with a slow hand. Rubs the lace trim of her too-short skirt between her fingers. It really is the same dress she was wearing half an hour ago. ] It's just this looked longer on me, so I was tryna figure out why.

[ Tsk, clicks her tongue as she tries to help stretch the fabric down since Aki's all up in arms about it, but it's a bust. She's not that much shorter than her, is she? ]

If you wanna take it off later, you're probably gonna need help.

That's not what I meant by - Denji!

[When she was pulling at the fabric herself, Aki at least knew how much force to use. When Denji tugs - it's different. Rougher, without any care for how the fabric falls on her body. The lace bodice should hold fast to her chest, keep everything nice and in place, but as Denji offers her help for removing the lingerie later, instead what happens between all the thin fabric and the crossed straps in front is - ]

[A nipple.]

[Aki takes a full step back, swiping her hand over her chest, towel dropping to the floor. Her face is pale, eyebrows nearly touching her hairline, jaw half-dropped. Teeth all but bared. She stares at Denji in utter shock and, after a long, painfully silent moment, her mouth closes, teeth clenched behind it. She stares across at the idiot with daggers in her eyes as her hands close into fists.]

You have three seconds. [And without pause:] One. Two...

[ At the eyeful of pert, darkened skin, goosebumps circling a nipple that she was never meant to see, that even between two girls feels like too much exposure, all of Denji trips back. Her hands, her feet. She chokes on air as if her entire tongue's retreated down her throat. ]

That wasn't — I didn't mean 'ta —

[ The counting puts a fast stop to any illusions that she'll be able to talk her way out of this one. Fear is a lead weight in her guts when she turns tail before Aki can even finish getting the word two out, rushing into her room and throwing the door closed, her back pressed hard against it to keep it that way. Hoping against all odds that maybe her crazed roommate will trip on the towel she dropped, bang her head to the floor, and pass out like a normal person. ]

Calm your tits, lady! [ Perhaps not the most tactful choice of words in this situation. ] I see you nipping all the time, how's this any different?!

[Like a good girl - a good dog - Denji runs with her tail between her legs and straight into her bedroom.]

Three.

[For no one to hear, Aki mutters that under her breath before turning around, grabbing the towel off the floor, and stepping into her own bedroom.]

[She can hear Denji screaming at her through the door, but it doesn't matter right now. She'll get her when she least expects it. For now, the lingerie is stripped off, dropped onto the bed, and she tugs on her usual nightwear of grey sweats. Fluffing her hair out from the back of her top, she steps back out of the room and settles down in front of the TV again, dragging her fingers through her hair slowly while someone on the variety program makes a joke about the rising cost of home insurance.]

You can come out now, [she calls, just loud enough to let Denji know she's allowed. She's had her five minutes of time out. Denji has a dog brain so any longer than that is brushing up against torture. Aki plans to officially torture her at some point for daring to yank down her top. Right now, however, she's won this round.]

[ She stands there in apprehension, tense, waiting for feet to thump after her, a blast of force to strain at the hinges of the door.

However, nothing like that comes close to happening. The only thing she's met with is the open and close of Aki's bedroom. "Fooled ya," the silence seems to mock her with, which is as relieving a realization as it is vexing. Slipping down from the door, her fight-or-flight instincts wisping off her like a blown candle, her rear hits the ground. She stays like that, staring into the distance in a daze.

Aki's boobs…

Her breasts roll around in her hands as she squeezes herself, thoughtfully. The same amount of thought someone would use to weigh produce at the grocery market. Denji touches her chest all the time, and contrary to popular belief, it's not always a masturbatory activity for her. She'll do it alone while taking a dump, when she's sharing the bed with Power and has an itch, or even at the dinner table — and, obviously, since she has a vivid reference to compare herself with, she has even more reason to now.

When she first arrived at Aki's apartment, her chest was nearly level with her stomach. Groping herself felt no different from smoothing a hand over the floor beneath her feet. It still felt good, but she wonders if she's closer now to what she wants…

She's still not sure. Her chest feels fuller, though.

Her expression flattens at the sound of Aki's call, ruining her reflection. Denji doesn't bother propping to the door to say back: ]

…No, I don't wanna. I don't hang out with scam artists…

[Oh, so she's a scam artist now. Aki rolls her eyes, changing the channel to entertainment news. There's a special about Emi-chan's concert, but it's nothing actually interesting. Expected crowd size for the next venue, stuff like that. She looks over her shoulder at the closed door.]

Didn't you used to work for scam artists?

[Yakuza are a type of scam artists.]

And shouldn't you be apologizing instead of calling me names?

[ The tiniest of openings, a gap appears between the door and the frame. The only thing small enough to squeeze through that would be a mouse — or Denji's voice. Stomach flat to the ground, chin resting atop crossed arms in front of her, the words are hardly audible unless Aki's really listening. ]

They never scammed me.

[ Betraying and killing her isn't a scam, that's just murder. And if Aki is referring to money, those yakuza guys always paid her, too — though it was rarely ever enough, just the little bills skimmed from the top of the heavy stacks they were greedy to line their pockets with. But Denji turned a blind eye (literally) to that sort of thing early on. What they did to other people… well, that wasn't her business to meddle in.

Then again, with that pretzeled logic, what Aki did wasn't a scam, either, just a simple countdown, and it was Denji's prior experience that conditioned her to guiltily jet out of there.

So what's the difference between the two situations? Easy answer: who it is that's doing the scamming, or the not-scamming. It's somehow easier to blame Aki, to envision her as some twisted villain in her life, as if that's the true nature she's hiding, as if Aki's intentions aren't clearly worn on her sleeve, and as if that's who Denji wants her to be.

…Probably, Denji has a lot to be apologizing for her. Besides her transgressions toward her state of undress.

Air puffs into her forearms. Her head nudges into the door, pushing it slightly wider. ]

I just wanted to help you… Sorry for makin' you flash me. [ And with as much sincerity as she can muster: ] I won't tell on you to Makima. Or to the police. I promise.

[Looking over her shoulder to see the small crack in the door that gradually grows wider, Aki lowers her eyes to stare at where she lays on the floor, head pushed through the gap. She doesn't look nearly guilty enough. No, she still looks like a piece of shit.]

You can't get someone arrested because of your own stupid actions.

[Like yanking down her top, for example.]

I'm not gonna hit you. You can come out. Just don't do something like that again.

[She glances at the TV briefly, where an old interview with Emi is taking place from before the attacks. Something about how she's hopeful she can share happiness with all her fans or whatever.]

Look - She's on TV.

[ Denji scowls to start with, quick and knee-jerk, then seems to forcefully relax into a more neutral expression. At least Aki's comments aren't manifesting into outright scorn, isn't mounting into one of their usual brawls; she did just spend the evening fighting a devil, so she isn't exactly invigorated by the thought of barking up the wrong tree. Anyway, this sort of exchange between them isn't so unusual. She pushes herself up, leaving behind her room with mild curiosity. ]

Emi-chan?

[ There she is on TV, indeed. Her hair is dyed a warmer brown in this interview. Denji closes in, plunking herself down directly in front of the screen. She taps against the TV panel, increasing the volume as the host invites her to sing a song from what must have been her latest album at the time. ]

She looks happy.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject