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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[ 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.

[The closer Denji gets to the screen, the more little beads of annoyance gather in Aki's mind. She's going to blind herself, first, then - Doesn't she realize Aki was watching, too? When she starts increasing the volume, she finally leans forward to snag the back of her shirt, pulling her backward from the screen.]

You'll go blind sitting that close. Back up.

[Since she won't care about how her fingers are dirty or how she's impacting Aki's own viewing experience. She continues pulling her back until she's beside her.]

This was before that fiend showed up, so she's probably less stressed.

[As she begins singing the chorus from her latest song, Aki watches with dull attention. How anyone can be inspired by this kind of thing is beyond her. As it finally fades back to the repeated coverage of the fiend's killing and suppression by Public Safety, the same news clip she's seen a few times plays, of Emi thanking the hardworkers at Public Safety, her security team, yadda yadda - but "most importantly," her fans.]

[Aki rolls her eyes.]

Not like her fans kept her alive, though.

[ Denji grunts when her collar tightens against her throat and she's harshly separated from the screen, tugged back to a more reasonable width away. Her glare only lasts a second, flashing in confusion at Aki's words. ]

Whaddaya mean? They kept rooting for her. She was goin' through something sucky and they stilled believed she would come out on top… Ain't that what fans are s'posed to do?

[ And then the devil hunters hunt the devils. The concept that there are designated roles they all play — she always expected Aki would be a stickler for that kind of thing.

No longer worried that her housemate may try to do something as payback for their earlier skirmish, figuring Aki's let bygones begone or however that saying goes, and has no plans to lash out, ruck Denji's shirt up to reveal her own nothing-tits — she looks at her closely, back somewhat hunched. Doesn't try to put space between the two of them. ]

You… You're not drunk, are ya? I thought you didn't care about Emi-chan.

[What fans are supposed to do, huh...]

[Maybe. But Aki still doesn't like it. Public Safety gets lip service and her swooning fans get the real praise? It's so shallow. Aki lifts her beer to her lips and takes a long drink as Denji examines her, makes her guess about her attitude.]

I'm not drunk. This is only my second beer. [And it's true - She feels right as rain, sober as a judge... Or whatever the saying is.] It's not like I want recognition or for her to say our names. But she would be dead without you today.

[Sure, Aki could have killed the fiend, but it was Denji's quick thinking that sealed the deal. She tugs at her to sit down properly, to get out of her face.]

I don't get idols. That's all.

[ The second tug does the trick. Throws her slightly off-balance as she lands next to Aki, their shoulders bumping together, legs a hair away from touching. Quickly, Denji scoots out from her, brow creased in bewilderment at her insistence. Geez. ]

Idols… They're kinda like devils. The more popular they are, the stronger they get. If they aren't popular — if Emi-chan and Emi-chan's dad weren't popular, would she still be alive? [ Would she have been able to leverage her influence in the same fashion to prioritize her case with Public Safety? To borrow some of their strongest hunters just to take down a fiend with an obsession? ] So I guess she's gotta do all this stuff, make it 'bout the folks who just sat by and watched me be super cool, or else…

[ They'll leave Emi-chan. Forget her. The worst fate that can happen to both an idol and a devil from hell. ]

Don'tcha think Makima's basically an idol where we work? I mean, he's as cool and good-lookin' as one, and everyone's always like, "Ooh, Makima," when he's around.

[ Yes, she's including herself in that mix. Ooh, Mister Makima… ]

[It's so weird when Denji says something smart. Aki doesn't respond to her at all, unwilling to praise or otherwise comment on her apt comparison, only looking at her with a frown when she compares their boss to an idol. That, at least, she can outright reject.]

Idols don't do anything useful - Just like devils. [So there continues the comparison, she guesses.] Makima has saved countless people. I wouldn't put him in the same category as some... some pretty girl who sings well. [She's never heard him sing... He probably has a nice voice when singing. Would he ever consider going to karaoke?]

[ The screen shifts from Emi-chan's statement to the press to on-the-ground coverage from outside the concert venue. A news reporter has his mic raised to a couple holding hands, so it's probably a re-run of the previous real-time interview since most of the concertgoers should have already cleared by this hour.

"What was going through your head when you saw that a fiend had trespassed the stage? Why didn't you evacuate?"

"Listening to Emi-chan's music gave me courage and saved my life when I was going through a dark time," the woman answers without a single stutter. "Ever since, my husband and I have been fans. The least we could do was stay there and support her!"

…But Denji isn't listening to any of that. Instead, she's openly staring at Aki. ]

You thought she was pretty?

[Denji is such an awkward weirdo that any sort of staring or other strange behavior from her has long been disregarded - but this time, when she asks that and Aki looks at her, even she's a little unnerved by the way she's looking at her.]

You don't?

[...She's an idol, she wants to say - Anyone would think she's pretty. Like, of course she's pretty. You don't get to that point in fame without looks. Denji knows this, she's sure.]

I mean... Of course she is. Just look at her.

[Is Denji going to say something stupid about how she's not her type? Like she has room to be choosy.]

[ She doesn't bat an eye at the Emi-chan posing for pictures with fans, signing autographs, walking down plush carpets to some award ceremony. They spent more than enough time together these few weeks, so Denji knows she looks good off and on the stage. Every outfit hugs her right, doesn't sag or snag anywhere. Even without makeup on, when her freckles and acne are visible, she has the presence of a girl who belongs in the city. ]

But you're prettier? So I thought you'd have higher standards…

[ She says it blandly, as if it's not a real compliment because it's that obvious. Because, unlike the idol projected on the screen in front of them, she can imagine Aki living a life anywhere and still making it seem like it's the most important thing. Make it feel like she sees the purpose and the weight of whatever she's doing, and that it's really worth bearing. Make it beautiful.

Yeah, Aki could have a beautiful life anywhere. ]

Umm, am I pretty to you like Emi-chan, then?

[...She thinks Aki is prettier than an idol? Aki looks openly shocked when she says that, her eyebrows raised high especially when she asks that question.]

Like...

[Is Denji pretty like an idol? Absolutely not. She has her own kind of charm. A tomboyish girl with a dirty mouth despite how she can speak politely and properly when it benefits her. She's a gutter rat without any actual understanding of human society. But she thinks out for certain things that Aki simply wouldn't - making sure Meowy isn't eating too much table food, refusing to do things if it puts a woman in danger... Okay, maybe they're not exactly for noble reasons, but still.]

[It's almost impossible to answer that question honestly, considering how she's been all night about her alleged date. If she just told her, No, you look like a wet dog most of the time, would she react badly?]

[And why does Aki care that she might?]

You seriously think I'm prettier than her?

[So she dodges the question in favor of the first statement.]

I don't even wear make-up. [Or frilly dresses or whatever.]

[ Aki's evasion wouldn't normally be noteworthy enough to dent her notice, but that's not the case this time, solely because of her own delusion: she'd been expecting to hear surefire agreement. So when she doesn't, and when it occurs to her she isn't going to, Denji purses her lips before pulling her gaze back forward just in time to watch Emi-chan throw up a peace sign with a handsome fan.

Cameras flash. Her posture hunches. Elbow propped up by a knee, her cheek smushes to her palm. If Aki's not going to tell her what she wants to hear, she'll just supply her own answer, damn it. ]

So what? I basically didn't start wearing any 'til tonight and I'm still popular with the dudes.

[ Dudes that blow her up, blow her off, or make her regret kissing anything other than the side of her closed fist… But dudes, either way.

Has Aki ever had to deal with stuff like that?

Somehow, this is the thought that deepens Denji's scowl. ]

Eugh, you actin' all surprised is giving me the creeps! 'course, you're pretty. And I'm sure all sorts of guys have tried to get into your pants because of it. You don't gotta play dumb, y'know.

[Why does she always insist on things that are factually untrue...? The only dudes she's gotten close to are Power who tried to kill her once and that bomb guy who also tried to kill her once. What is her reasoning behind thinking she's popular with men??]

[But despite staring at her with a heavy frown, Aki finally turns her gaze away and back to the TV, trying to ignore the obvious change in Denji's demeanor. She's so annoying...]

I wouldn't call you "pretty."

[A common tactic: begin with an insult so the follow-up complement isn't as special.]

"Cute" - Sure, though.

[ …Okay. ]

You're drunk.

[ That's the second time she's accused Aki of intoxication, but what else is she supposed to say? What can Denji even get away with saying without revealing the complicated mix of emotions that illuminates her face in an overly bright red. The way her nose wrinkles, thankfully, just makes her seem irritated. ]

I still don't get it. What's the difference — between me and Emi-chan? You and me?

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