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? ]
[ 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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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?!
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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.]
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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…
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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?
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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[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.
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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… ]
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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?]
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"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?
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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.]
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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?
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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.]
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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.
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[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.
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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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[That gets snapped this time, Aki clearly annoyed by the repeated insistence. She's only had two beers, what kind of constitution does Denji think she has?! She leans back to look at her, frustration obvious as she keeps picking at this topic. What is up with her? Has no one ever called her cute in her life? Does she even recognize how annoying she is right now? The answer to both is probably a resounding No but even knowing that, Aki is getting sick of her bullshit.]
Cuteness is different, it's... It's more about... [Ugh, this is so stupid. She drags her eyes away from Denji, back to the screen. She's on stage now, a far shot as she does some kind of dance, but the music is covered by the news anchors talking.] Someone being pretty is conventionally attractive. Someone on a magazine, or whatever. But cuteness...
[She frowns. Taps the edge of her beer can, half empty. One and a half drinks, then.]
Cuteness, it's like... Haven't you ever heard anyone say that something's so cute, they want to gobble it up?
[She squeezes the can slightly, the aluminum creaking under her grip.]
You kind of want to bite it or squeeze it, because it's so cute... Not that you want to hurt it - But you need some kind of outlet for that. Someone being pretty, you don't feel that.
[And she takes a drink. Like that just so succinctly explained everything.]
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[ Perhaps Aki should choose her words more wisely next time, because Denji's face twists in distress, like the impact of her explanation has made a permanent fissure in her skull. It's not as if she doesn't know what cute things are, what it's like to find things cute and have these weird impulses associated with the feeling — Pochita's existence was basically that to Denji. So, yeah. That's all fine and dandy to her. The problem has to do with the lack of distinction — isn't this too similar to how someone would treat a kid's plush? A housepet? She's not imagining things here, right?
Well, either way, the inside of her senpai's mind sure is a scary place…
And yet, in spite of her knee-jerk impressions, skepticism over her supposed sobriety, and the gnawing sense she should be leaning away from the other women — or, at least, serving her a glass of tap water to balance out the alcohol — Denji continues prodding the bear. ]
…For the record, I'm not lettin' you beat me up or whatever it is you wanna do to me. And I'll let all the weird, not-drunk stuff you said slide if you just — just get into the nitty-gritty! Like, what about me's cute? So that I know what I needa fix or whatever.
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You don't need to fix anything. Why would you need to fix it? Being cute is good - There's nothing to fix, you dumbass.
[Her temper is wearing thin, helped along by the rest of the beer. Something inside her tells her to crush the can and really give Denji the sign to get out of here before she says something actually stupid, but...]
...Your eyes, those are cute.
[She turns to look at her, still frowning, speaking like she's naming negatives instead of offering complements.]
You can get all wide-eyed sometimes, and that's cute. To some people. And your mannerisms - Some people would call those cute, too. The way you walk, or the way you move around. It's not pretty, but it's cute.
[She scoffs, as if suddenly realizing what she's saying. Why does she have to do this? It's not like she'll care about her opinions on this, anyway. Because Aki's opinion is, simply, that nothing needs fixing.]
It's not bad, to be cute instead of pretty. Some people prefer that.
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She is being told off, isn't she? At least, that's what she believes is happening here. Thinks. Can only assume. There's just, there's no way her hardass coworker would seriously care about her enough to pay that much attention to how she walks, or take record of all these details she, herself, has never thought twice about… Like, that'd be so weird.
So what kind of creep does that make Denji? For her ears to tingle like she just swallowed a whole bunch of those pea-like spices Aki sometimes uses when making curry, for her stomach to lurch in excitement and panic rolled into one bottomless pit, just from being yelled at. Ugh, she feels gross. Sticky, her whole chest gunked in a sweet residue. Like the warm current that seizes someone when they hear song on the radio they know they're going to put on loop for the next hour, the next day, the next rest of their lives.
So this is what an idol fan must feel like.
Suddenly, inexplicably, Denji fully turns her body toward her, close enough to smell the tang of cheap booze on her breath. She moves on all fours, pitching over Aki's legs, a hand braced fast against a squishy thigh so she doesn't have to worry about slamming into the table in the rush — ]
Actually.
[ There's a snap and hiss from the third beer can she opens. It's warm, probably gone flat from being out too long. She nudges it toward Aki. ]
I prefer it when you drink. It's cute. 'cause your face gets red like spicy ramen soup and — and your eyes look like you can barely make them stay open. [ Look! Denji knows how to pay compliments, too! ] So, um, you should keep sayin' nice stuff about me.
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[But that word never comes, since she's climbing over Aki instead. Aki leans back in shock, the crack of the beer can drawing her eyes before she remembers to look at the girl attacking her right now. Attacking her, she assumed, but no, she's just telling her...]
I'm not - I'm not even drunk right now...!
[Her face might be as red as spicy ramen, but it's certainly not (just) from beer. Seriously, what is going on with her tonight? She briefly looks at the beer, how Denji nudges it at her. Is her aim really just to get her to say nice things...? But why does she have to do that in this position?!]
Do you think telling me I look like a dope when drunk is a similar complement? You're such a brat... [She leans back a little further, dropping down onto her elbows to avoid being face-to-face with her.] Are you that desperate for someone to call you cute that you'll settle on...
[But they're close like this. A lot closer than usual. And Denji is right up against her, in her face, even as she's leaned back to try and avoid her heavy stare. Waiting. All she's missing is the wagging tail.]
...Your lips.
[And then there's a pause, like she's not sure what else to add to that.]
Those are cute, too.
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Her lashes lower. She holds the beer can by the ridge between her knees, tapping the side against her leg, not careful at all how it swishes about, droplets wetting its body. ]
If you really think that…
[ She fiddles with the can again, twisting it round and round. She peers back up at Aki, repaying the intent in her gaze with her own. ]
D'zzat mean you like me?
[ The like between two girls versus that of a girl and a boy. That should look different, mean different things, lead to different outcomes. But it's weird, right now she can't help but think — that Aki's pink lips are way too shiny from taking her last sip earlier. She should probably wipe that off with something. ]
Even if I look like shit? And my face is yucky looking? Or my undies have holes in 'em, or if…
[ The list disintegrates in silence, not because she's run the gamut of what could be wrong with a half-devil being like her; there's simply too much. She thinks of what it was like, to stand on the moving car as Reze told her with the utmost sincerity that he liked her, and Aki growled at her to not to be so gullible. Don't believe the enemy. ]
You gotta kill me someday.
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