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It was a normal day in the Hayakawa residence.
Aki Hayakawa, a tall, black haired man, was currently scowling at his work partners, a platinum blonde haired Devil taking residence in a woman’s body, and a blonde, almost ginger haired boy, who was immortal.
He loved both of them, but he wouldn’t say it for weeks to come.
“Oh, oh, you should change it to ‘Strength’, then we’ll match. Of course, as a mere half-human your strength will never amount to my power, but your imitation will suffice.” The Devil, Power, said this primly, as if her mere words were blessing Denji with each syllable.
“Nah, I like my name.” The immortal boy, named Denji, blew bubbles in his chocolate milk and watched them rise to the edge of the cup, “No reason to change it.”
Power looked disappointed. “Well, can you make Strength your second name?”
“Second name?” Denji scoffed, “I don’t even got a last name!”
“Then make it your last name!”
“What kinda last name is Strength? I’m Japanese, not fuckin’ Christian!”
Aki sighed at the kitchen table. “Christian is not a race.”
“Uh, basically is.” Denji said.
“No. No, it is not.”
“I bet you were raised Christian, Aki.” Said the blonde boy, smugly. He could already imagine Aki saying grace every day before meals, and praising Jesus, or whatever it was Christans did.
“What does Christian mean?” Power asked.
Aki looked at the ceiling, his formerly beautiful, plain, bare ceiling— now adorned with drawings of penisies and swear words, and cursed Makima, not for the last time in his life. “We’re going on a field trip.” He looked at the girl with disgust in his eyes, “Power, put on some pants.”
“You humans and your need for ‘pants’! Disgusting, restricting, slave driving—“
Denji yanked the devil’s collar and dragged her into their room as she yelled.
He threw a pair of black pants at her. “Here, these look fine.”
She glanced at them on the floor, a glimmer of a tearin her eye. “They’re stufffffy…” She whined.
“It’s cold out. You’re gonna complain.”
She huffed, and Denji knew he had won the argument.
⊱ ────── {⋅. ✯ .⋅} ────── ⊰
As predicted, it was cold out, and Power was clinging to Denji’s arm like a tumor. “I told you.” He said. She stuck out her tongue at him.
They followed Aki as diligently as they could, down a twisting street neither of them had ever been down before, until something in a store window caught Power’s eye.
“Human!” Power called authoritably, placing her hands on her hips, “We demand to be let into this store immediately!”
“We’re not going shopping.” Aki sighed, rubbing his temples, “I’m taking you out for some culture, since you clearly don’t understand the first thing about how normal peo—“ He opened his eyes to see an empty space in front of him where the blondes had been, “Okay, where the hell did you two go?!”
Power decided she loved clothing stores. The red shirts did not taste good, but the jeans went into her stomach with ease. There was a subtle aftertaste, as if she had drunk some sugar soda with them as well. She liked them quite a bit. She wondered if Aki would get too mad at her if she ate some of his. Why had he been wearing something so delicious this whole time, and never thought to tell her?
“Ma’am… Ma’am!” An attendee ran up to Power, her eyes wild. “You can't just… You can't just throw the clothes on the floor.” She pointed to the giant pile of shirts and dresses next to them, the ones Power had decided did not taste good from a simple lick. The clothes with holes in them from her teeth were further in the store.
Power cocked her head to the side. “Well, where else do I put them?”
“On the rack…” the employee said, suffering in her eyes, “…where they came from.”
“Intriguing! Thank you, human.” Power noted, watching as the employee walked away, before tossing the orange shirt in her hand into the pile, “Too red!”
“Power, glad you’re still here.” Said Denji. Power turned around to face him immediately.
“Denji!” She exclaimed. The boy was running, a green shirt under his arm.
“I got this from some pregnant lady.” He said, huffing, “I totally saw it first, but she was screamin’ that it was ‘hers’. People here are so entitled.” He let out a look around them, as if spies were crawling from every corner.
Power nodded sagely. “Yes, humans are so particular about where you place food…”
“There’s food here?” Denji asked, confused. Power supposed he hadn’t seen the edible clothes yet, and the one he was holding was for another purpose. It made sense. After all, they wore the clothes as well, so of course they could have more than two uses.
“Yes.” She beamed, and handed him a pair of jeans, “I picked these out for you.”
Denji looked confused for a second, then gazed at the pants as if they were a newborn baby. “You got those… for me?”
“Of course.” Power answered. She and Denji had similar taste in food, so she thought the half-human would also enjoy the taste of the jeans.
“Power…” Denji felt himself smile, just as someone gripped the back of his collar violently. He jerked at the contact, fearing he was about to get his limbs chopped off. He was dragged to the front of the building and physically kicked out the door.
“AND STAY THE HELL OUT OF OUR STORE, YOU FREAKS!” Yelled a shrill voice. Denji looked to the side and saw Power had been thrown out too. She wasn’t holding any of the clothes she had been moments prior.
“Humans are so rude.” Power muttered, spitting her hair out of her mouth.
“We didn’t even do anything!” Denji scoffed.
“You!”
Denji turned around as Power continued to hack onto the sidewalk like a cat with a hairball stuck in her throat. It was Aki.
“Where were you?!” The man said, worry clear on his face. He looked out of breath, as if he had been running for twenty minutes straight.
“We told you we were going into the store.” Denji supplied lazily. He didn’t understand Aki at all, sometimes. He dusted off the dirt from his pants and stood up to face the man.
“Yeah, but you don’t just leave whenever you—“ He cut himself off, glaring at the space behind Denji, “Alright, why does Power have a bird?”
Power looked up at the green parrot on her shoulder. “He followed me. We are comrades now.”
“You can’t— You can’t keep it.” Aki gestured widley at the air.
“What, are you the bird police?” Denji asked, pointing at Aki accusingly.
“No, I’m the only rational, thinking adult in this entire city, apparently!” He landed his foot onto a trash can and cried out when it hit it, “Fuck!” He grabbed both of the blonde’s hands and started to stomp in the opposite direction, “Okay, keep your bird, we’re going to the art museum, like planned. And don’t ask me how you’re getting that thing in, you’re a goddamn devil, think of it yourself.”
Aki ushered them to a tall, beige building. It looked like Denji’s worst nightmares come to life. It was dull. Many people in equally dull conservative clothing huddled around it like hamsters during feeding time.
The guard was a compressed, wrinkly short man. He looked like his skin was all that was holding his insides together. Denji had a dangerous thought of flipping the man over to see if he shattered, but quickly banished it as soon as it had come.
“Is that a bird?” The guard looked thoroughly unimpressed.
“I can’t leave him.” Power said, looking up at the bird, which was now perched atop her head, “He’s an heirloom.”
“And your horns…?”
“Also an heirloom.”
“Okay.” The security guard sighed. He looked at the girl again and let her in.
A blast of air greeted them from inside. Why was every fancy building cold as balls? Denji’s sneakers felt out of place as they squeaked against the marble floor.
“Ha! I told you that me and Cawwy would be let in, foolish mortal.” Power purred in Aki’s direction. He didn’t seem to be paying attention, preoccupied with shuffling a bunch of tissues in his hand.
“Cawwy?” Denji asked.
“He makes a sound like that. He’s clearly telling me his name.” She watched proudly as the bird shat on the floor before traveling back onto her arm. “Our connection knows no bounds.”
“Woah, that’s so cool!” Denji admired the parrot, stars in his eyes. The bird stared back emotionlessly.
“I have a gift for it.” Power preened, “Maybe one day animals will communicate to you in this way, Denji.”
“Well, everytime I see a bird they say ‘caw’ to me too.” Denji rubbed the back of his head, “You think it’s like a last name for birds and they’re all part of the same family?”
Power’s eyes lit up. “We should give it a first name to show it’s arrival into our kingdom.”
“Not a kingdom.” Aki said.
“Our kingdom!” Power yelled.
The museum was filled to the brim with paint splatters framed in delicate, gold casing. ‘The frames look better than the art’, Denji thought bitterly to himself.
“What is the point of this building?” Power asked, behind him. Denji was currently examining a tall, angular painting of what seemed to be what happens when you let a kindergarten child have 23 packages of expensive paint.
“I don’t know. It’s for snobs to admire shit. Like, what even is this?” He pointed to the painting in front of him, “Even you could make something better than this.”
“I could create more beautiful artwork then all mortals combined.” Power exclaimed. Denji didn’t even have to see her face to know she was wearing a smug grin.
Aki suddenly came back from around the corner, tissues stuffed into his pocket. Denji wondered if he had a cold. The man walked up to the two and stared at the painting before them, silently.
“I’m bored.” Denji sighed. He stuffed his hands into his pockets and leaned against an expensive looking sculpture. “Why’re we even here?”
Aki rolled his shoulders, looking at the ground. “I don’t know. I thought you’d like… I don’t know, have something to say about the art? You haven’t been to one of these before, have you?”
“No, but…” He bit the inside of his gum, “What I wanna say is can we go home? I’d rather be with you guys in our apartment than this borin’ ass place.”
Aki looked taken aback by Denji’s words. As if he had said something surprising. Denji couldn’t figure out why. “Oh. Um. Yeah. Sure, of course.”
“Cawwy demands mortal flesh.” Power’s voice came from behind them.
“Your bird is not demanding mortal flesh.” Aki sighed, turning his head over shoulder to face the girl.
“He is feasting on that human.” Power pointed to a middle aged man, currently having his innards torn out by the green parrot, which now had four eyes and was six feet tall, “I have raised him well.”
“You cannot be serious…” Aki said, disbelieving
“Is that a fuckin’ Devil?” Denji gawked, “Power, you brought a Devil into—“
“Clearly!” Power huffed, as if it was obvious. She placed a hand on her chest, “He is my comrade! I would never form a comradeship with a lowly creature of earth!”
They left the museum soaked in blood. Power did not end up taking the parrot home.
“This day fuckin’ sucks.” Denji whined, dragging his torn up shoes on a string. In the fight, he had ended up needing to form chainsaws from his feet, and now his shoes smelled like burned rubber. He didn’t have any injuries, but the parrot had completely ruined his shirt. And his pants. And his entire body, which he thinks was so covered in it’s blood and bird bits he might have to take a hose and put it on the highest level to wipe it fully off him.
“Yeah.” Aki agreed. The man was much less dirty than Denji, but still had big splotches of red on his white dress shirt.
Power, who’s normally blonde hair was now a crimson color, laughed. It was a fake sounding laugh, but Denji had learned a long time ago that Power laughed like bad actors did. “‘Twas amazing! We’re the best! We’re the best!”
She did a little dance, lifting off the ground as if her limbs were made of paper. Denji couldn’t help but smile at her display. He really loved that girl. In a ‘you’re a public nuisance but I’ll always take care of you no matter how many police tickets you get me’ way. He thinks she felt the same way for him.
“Oh!” Power gasped, and pointed at the beach. It was dirty and empty. No one came to this city for the beach. Aki could point out 10 different safety hazards just from a quick glance, “We can wash off right there!”
“I’ve never been to the beach before.” Denji commented. “Well, uh, with… Reze. But that wasn’t… it doesn’t count.”
Power nods.
Aki looked surprised. “What, really?”
“Yeah.” Denji almost laughed. Why the hell would he have ever gone to a beach? He didn’t exactly have any recreational time in his youth. It didn’t even hit him that Aki might now know that. To him, Aki knew everything.
Power started running towards the dirty water in big leaps. Aki bit back a reprimand, his hand reaching out in empty air, before he sprinted after her too.
By the time they both got there, she was already in the water, the sun highlighting her blood stained appearance. She was playing with a beach ball as if she was a cat with a ball of yarn. She looked so happy. Denji smiled, and jumped in after her.
“What the hell are you doing?” Aki called after him, but Denji wasn’t looking at him. The water was cold, as expected. But Denji had gone through worse. He continued to walk towards Power.
“Going to the beach!” He replied. He turned to Power, who glanced up at him, ball still in hand. His shirt was torn to shreds, “I look like shit.”
“No.” She said, “You look like blood.”
“Thanks, Power.” Denji said, sarcastically.
“Of course.” Power replied, sincere. She looked at the ball again. It was halfway deflated, yet she held it as if it was shiny new, “We should play catch!”
“Catch?”
“Yes! Do you have a vendetta against the game?” She made a ‘tsk’ sound, “I remember you didn’t want to play on that mission to Takahara, either.”
“That *wasn’t* catch.” The boy replied, “That was murder. A senator’s head is not a beach ball.”
“It’s a circular object.” She looked puzzled, “I throw it, you catch it. Why is there a difference?”
Not in the mood to explain why desecrating the bodies of the dead was bad to a Devil wearing a dead woman’s corpse, Denji decided to change the topic. “That’s… Uh… Anyways, back in the gallery, you said you wouldnt form partnerships with humans?”
“I did say that. You flatter me by remembering my words.”
Denji squinted, wadding around in the water awkwardly. There were big pools of blood coming off of both of them. The blood had washed off the devil’s hair, and it was blonde again. “Yeah, but like… I’m half human. Aki is full. Meowy is a cat, which is a mortal creature. So like…?”
“No. I have chosen each of you as worthy of my protection. So if war between devils broke out, you would be protected under my faction.” She said, very easily. She threw the ball. Denji did not try to catch it, “Denji, the ball. You missed it.”
“Wait— Wait, war?” Denji squinted his eyes, “What are you talkin’ about?”
“Factions.” She explained, “I have chosen them. You are under my protection, and thus no longer a mortal creature as deemed by Hell.”
“I don’t have a fuckin’ clue what you’re talkin’ about.”
“You don’t have a need to!” Power exclaimed, and rushed towards Denji, giving him a smack on the head, “Just know you’re protected by me! Always and forever! So you needn’t worry for the rest of your pathetic human life!”
“Power, I’m immortal.” Denji said, gesturing to the pull wire in his chest.
“I’m making you extra-immortal!” She wasn't grinning. She seemed completely serious. He was overcome by a strong wave of platonic affection for her.
Denji let out a laugh. It was short, but came from his stomach. He clutched his side and toppled into the water, landing on his back. He stared straight at the sky. “Shit, what am I doing?”
Power did not answer. She slowly inched herself to Denji’s side, and then flopped on her back in unison. “Are we staring at the sun? The last time I tried to do that, I became blind.”
“You’re so weird.”
“You are a human without a last name with a chainsaw inside you.”
“Okay— the last name thing is *not* weird, I chose that!”
“Why would you choose that?” Aki said, standing right above them. The beach ball was tucked safely underneath his arm. He had draped his black coat over his arm.
“Oh, you didn’t drown!” Power said happily, clapping her hands.”
“I know.” Aki stated, “I’m broken up about it too.”
Denji rolled his eyes, lightly splashing the man above him. “Enough about your suicidal horsecrap, jeez, get a therapist already.”
“I do not need therapy.”
“And I don’t need water.”
“As a half devil, you do not.” Power supplied. She held up a finger as if she was a scientist, “Although your human weakness would make you suffer a long painful unhydrarion, you would not die.”
“Unhydration is not a word.” Aki said.
“Un means the opposite, hydration means water… good. Unhydration is most certainly a word, human.” The blond haired girl chuckled, as if Aki didn’t still tie her shoes for her each morning, “I have lived millions of years.”
“And yet retained the intellect of a 15 year old in all of them.” Aki quips.
“I do not know what that means, but I know it’s an insult, so I hope you enjoy me not flushing your ceramic oppression device for the next week.”
Denji grimaced. “Power, you can’t refuse to flush the toilet as protest, that’s fuckin’ gross.”
“You have me agreeing with the kid who can't read.”
“How’s that my fault?” Denji scoffs.
“Learn to read.” Aki says.
“I’m 16!” Denji spreads his arms out, splashing the water, “I dropped out to pay my dead’s dad’s debt— tutors weren’t exactly linin’ up, dickwad!”
Aki’s eyes are in the shape of saucers. He almost drops the ball, which is now a deflated plate of plastic. “Wait, wait. You’re 16?”
“Yes?” Denji said, confused.
“You’re underage?”
“Yes.” Denji said, more seriously.
Aki rubbed his temples. Then rubbed them harder. “You can't be serious.”
“No, he is Denji.” Power said. Denji couldn’t tell if she was oblivious to Aki’s distress or just didn’t care.
“Yup.” He high-fived her.
“So you— you’re so undereducated you can’t even read— you’re 16, and you’re risking your life each day, just to get a bed and a meal?”
Denji nodded. “If I could score with Makima, that’d be great too.”
“You are 16!” Aki waved his arms around wildly, pulling at his hair, “You are not having any type of anything with Makima!”
Denji frowned. He couldn’t tell why Aki was so upset. “Why’s my age matter?”
“Because she’s an adult, Denji! She pays her bills and has a goddamn apartment! You can’t have any sort of—“ he looked pained as he said the words. “—sex, or kissing, or anything, until you’re an adult too! Did— Did seriously no one tell you this?”
“Uh,” Denji got up out of the water, sensing the seriousness the conversation had dipped into, “Well, yeah. But it’s not that serious. I mean,
I haven’t whored myself out or anythin’, but I’ve done shit with guys for money.”
Aki looked like he was going to pass out.
He didn’t understand why this was a big deal. It was just kissing, barley any skin contact. Himeno had offered sex to him. She didn’t know his age, but Denji wasn’t a victim because of it.
“I don’t understand what we’re talking about.” Power said, turning her head back a little.
All the humor in Aki’s eyes had been sucked out completely. “Denji, what have you done with guys?”
“Like, kiss and shit.” Aki sobered up even further at his words. Denji laughed awkwardly and tried to pass it off, “But it wasn’t a real kiss, cause it was another guy, you know?”
“Denji, that’s assault.” Aki looks dead.
“Huh?” Denji itched at his skin. He suddenly felt very trapped in his own bones, “No it’s not, they paid me. And it was a really long time ago, chill out.”
He muttered something underneath his breath, but Denji could only make out the phrases ‘fuck’ and ‘that’s worse’. “You’re a kid.” Aki said, disbelieving, “It doesn’t— it doesn’t matter if they pay you, or if they’re women or men. They’re adults and you’re a kid. You can't consent.”
“Um.” Denji looked at Power, but she was completely silent, “I didn’t… um…”
“Did no one tell you?” Aki said. His voice carried nothing but complete sadness. Denji had never heard that tone of voice before. He decided he never wanted to be on the receiving end of it from Aki ever again. He looked up at the man and hoped he didn’t show how uncomfortable he was.
“Shit. Shit.” Aki ran his hands over his face, “Okay.”
“It’s not a big deal.” Denji said, waving his hands, “Like seriously.”
Aki’s fingers were over his face. Through his muddled voice he whispered several things Denji did not understand. Power seemed to be suspiciously staring very, very intensely at a rock in the opposite direction of both of them.
“I’m sorry.” Aki said.
Denji did not say anything.
“I’m sorry for—“ The man cut himself off. Recomposed himself. Tried again, “For… fuck. I should have— I should have asked all this weeks ago.” He took his hands off his face and looked at Denji, “Denji, if any person— I don’t give a shit about their gender or how much they say they’re gonna give you— if any person touches you like that— punch them. If that doesn’t work, take out Chainsaw Devil. If that doesn’t work, call me and I’ll slice their legs off. Okay?”
“Uh…” Denji didn’t understand what was going on. He felt as if something horrible had happened to him, now. But he couldn’t understand why, “Okay. Thanks, Aki.”
Aki nodded. He still looked like he wanted to say something. But he held his tongue and disengaged. Denji wasn’t sure if it was for Denji’s comfort levels, but then again, Aki hadn’t ever really held his tongue to make Denji more comfortable before, so he thought it probably wasn’t that.
Probably.
Denji looked to his side and saw Power was under the water, face first into the ocean. She wasn’t moving at all. Aki reached in and pulled the blonde girl’s hair out from the salt water. “Power, you’re going to drown.”
She looked like a drowned rat. Her hair was sticking out in odd places and her face was completely scrunched up. She choked and garbled out water in response. Denji laughed.
They walked home, completely soaking. But no one said anything about it. Not even Aki, who cared more about civilians' opinion of him than any TV hero Denji had ever seen combined.
⊱ ────── {⋅. ✯ .⋅} ────── ⊰
After they had dried off, Aki started to cook dinner. He wanted Denji and Power to learn, and had been pestering them about it the last week, actually, but apparently he hadn’t bothered today.
The dinner was normal. They talked. Power did something weird, and Denji laughed at it and Aki pretended he didn’t find it funny.
Denji put all their dishes away while Power ran to fuck around somewhere else. He made sure to flush the toilet after he saw her leave too. Denji hadn’t even used a toilet most of his life, much more accustomed to shitting in bushes and holes, and he still remembered to flush the damn thing. Seriously.
He was standing behind Aki, who was buried in his work. Quite literally. Stacks and stacks of paper surrounded the man.
“You were right about therapy.” Aki said.
Denji looked at the back of his head with an eyebrow raised.
“Therapy.” Aki repeats. He’s clutching a piece of paper on his desk, “I can't… I can’t let you just…” The man cut himself off, “Denji Hayakawa.”
“Huh?”
“The name.” Aki said. He wasn’t looking at Denji, but the boy still felt as if he was glaring into his soul. “When you sign stuff, you’re gonna put that from now on.”
“Why…?”
“You need a full name.”
He felt as if Aki was talking in sentence fragments to purposefully confuse him.
“Yeah, but why yours?”
“Want to ask Power for her last name?”
“Not really.”
Aki turned around in his chair and looked at him as if that explained everything. It didn’t. It really didn’t. Denji felt he didn’t understand most of what happened today.
He scratched his chin. “Wait, so what you were sayin’ about therapy…”
Aki cut him off. “Family therapy.”
Denji did a double take. “Huh?!”
“You, me, Power. In a tiny room, with a middle aged woman who wants to fix our problems.” He couldn’t sound more sarcastic if he tried, “That’s our plans on weekends for the immediate future.”
“You can’t be for real.” Denji says, completely disbelieving. Staying in a room talking about his ‘issues’ sounds like the first circle of hell. Especially in front of fucking Power and Aki.
“I’m ‘taking initiative’.” Aki said the words as if they were rehearsed, even using quotations.
Denji let out a snort. “What, is that what the shrink told you?”
“Yes.” Aki replied. He seemed placated. He turned around to face Denji, a humorous glint in his eyes, “Apparently, I am a strong, capable single father of two.”
“How old are you, Aki?”
“Nineteen.”
“Aw.” Denji cooed, “You’re a teenage dad.”
Aki suddenly got up and covered his mouth, but Denji could still hear the snort he was sure the man was trying to disguise. “Go to your room, son.”
Denji’s mouth twitched. “Ok, you don’t get to tell me that—“ The door was slammed in his face, “It was a joke!” He yelled, to the other side, but he would bet money that Aki was tuning out his words with the precision only a man that had to live with a Devil who sang while she pissed could.
“Denjiiiii, we’re out of soap!” Power called out, her voice muffled. Based on the current heat of their living room, he correctly guessed she was in the bathroom.
“Did you eat the soap?!” He called back.
Silence.
“Power, did you eat the soap?”
“It slipped into my mouth…” Came a bashful mutter.
He opened the bathroom door forcefully, not paying any mind to how she was standing naked in the shower. He didn’t know why, still, but he felt nothing when he looked at her like that. It was like looking at a normal person clothed. He had thought seeing any woman naked would be a gift from Heaven, but with Power, it was just… weird, to think of her that way.
He had put a lot of expectation on touching and seeing other’s parts being different with women, like some holy standard. But Power didn’t flush, and scratched her ass in public, and tried to bite her own boobs like a dog chasing it’s tail. She was kind of disgusting.
He loved her.
“Did it slip into your stomach, too?”
“Maybeee….” She said. She burped out several bubbles, which popped immediately.
“…Do you need your stomach pumped?” Denji looked at her in disbelief. It was amazing she hadn’t already kneeled over and died.
“I can pump my own stomach.” Power said, proudly. She then doubled over, punching her ribs with great force as she retched from the impact.
“No— Okay, don’t do that!—“
⊱ ────── {⋅. ✯ .⋅} ────── ⊰
“I don’t get what you said today.” Denji said, later at night when Power has already fallen asleep in between Aki and him. They had taken on this habit of all sleeping in the same bed. Denji didn’t see anything strange about it. He shared the floor with Pochita all the time. Aki had laughed when Denji first asked. But then immediately jumped in when Power started having her first nightmares.
“About what?”
“The— The underage shit.”
“Oh.” Aki said. His voice had suddenly gone very quiet.
“I don’t get why it’s wrong. I mean, I do, I guess, but… I’m not some sort of… *victim*,” He said the word with a strong disdain, “And I’m not— you’re looking at me weird.”
Aki continues to look at him weirdly. As if he’s some sort of charity case. “I’m realizing how much of a kid you are.”
“You’re only three years older, pops.” Denji said this, but he felt the opposite. Aki was the only stable adult figure Denji knew— the only adult he had ever met who treated him like he was a kid. He didn’t know if he hates it yet. Every other adult let him do his own thing, treated him as if he was just as mature as the rest of them. Kissing, killing. He was used to it. Even Makima.
Thinking about her felt weird now.
“I’m gonna have to enroll you in school.” Aki is now looking at the ceiling. Or maybe the sky, in general. His eyes are sort of unfocused.
“Huh?” Denji laughed. He thought of having to look at words for more than a few seconds a day, “No, no you don’t.”
“You’re not going through your life not being able to read. And there’s tons of things you don’t know. It’s not alright. I’d— I wouldn’t know what I’d do with myself if some asshole took advantage of you again cause I was too much of an idiot to give you an education. I’m not letting that happen.”
Denji wants to disagree. He wants to say it really didn’t matter. He wants to say ‘my dad beating the shit out of me did a lot more damage to my mental health than touching my mouth with a bunch of old perverts years ago did’, but he can’t.
He had thought of it as just business. When he was too tired and exhausted to hunt devils. Back then, right when his dad died, that piece of shit man that stood over his grave had said that— “I don’t care what you do, if you whore yourself out or something, but you'll find a way to make that money.” Then he had sputtered out some convoluted threat about Denji ending up like his dad.
Denji knew that wouldn’t happen because he killed his dad.
He didn’t whore himself out. He didn’t get… whatever Aki was thinking. He didn’t. It was business. Just business. He tried to ignore it, not because the memories made him feel like an animal in a human corpse, like his skin was rotting, but because it was just business, and it didn’t need to be remembered. Because it wasn’t a big deal.
Yeah.
That was it.
He thought of Reze looking at him with pity when he tried to explain to her how him only having ‘basic living’ as a reward wasn’t sad. How much she had cared. How she looked like a completely different person, so full of anger and injustice, only to drop it and let that sweet smile drift back onto her face. Then he thought of how she broke his neck and left him in the sand as the waves crashed around him. His eyes burned.
“Uh, so what if I really like this person, and they kiss me?” Denji said. He was kind of bullshitting. He knew now, after Reze, that any woman who kissed him was definitely some kind of spy, “Do I gotta punch them then too? Cause I really wanna squeeze some tits before I go out, you know.”
It wasn’t true. He hadn’t thought about that since Reze.
“No tits.” Aki replied, “No nothing. If anyone who isn’t me or Power touches you, I will chop off both their hands and force feed them back to them.”
“You fooled me at first, with the ‘sane dude’ act, but now I know.” Denji grinned, “You’re batshit crazy.”
Denji glanced at the man. He thought Aki was joking. But his face was completely frozen in place, that serious expression clawed into his features. Denji lowered himself back onto the bed and stared at the ceiling. ‘MADE U LOOK’ was scribbled on it in purple marker.
Another silence overtook them. Denji watched Power breathe. Her chest didn’t align with the air coming into her lungs. He wondered if it was a Devil thing. Defying logic with something as simple as breathing seemed like a very her thing to do.
Aki spoke up. “You know, I’m not only giving you my last name for documents.”
Denji looked at him for elaboration. He could barely see the other man’s face in the flickering light. Power snores loudly, unbothered by other’s serious conversations even in sleep.
“You’re like…” He struggled for the words, “My little brother.”
“Gross.” Denji said.
“Yeah, I’m not having this conversation.” The man shut off the light. Denji could hear him flip onto his side, “Good night, Denji.”
“‘Night, dad.”
“Fuck off.”
“You first.”
⊱ ────── {⋅. ✯ .⋅} ────── ⊰
Denji woke up in darkness. He looked to the side. Power was still there, snoring louder than any machine Denji had ever operated in his 16 years of living. But Aki was gone.
He wasn’t surprised. He woke up multiple times to the man’s side of the bed empty. He supposed Aki didn't like sharing a bed. He seemed like that kind of guy. Denji didn’t fully understand why he would sleep with them in the first place, then. He had first thought it was so Power’s nightmares didn’t affect her work performance. But after today, he had a nagging feeling it was more out of… love. The same love he felt for Power. That sort of protection he wanted to give her.
It made Denji feel weird to think Aki cared for either of them as more than work employees. He knew it to be true, the man’s eyes had basically popped from his skull earlier at the beach, and he always made sure Power didn’t embarrass herself in public, even when she fought him… But a primal part of him couldn’t accept it.
His throat was dry. He remembered he hadn’t drank water since that morning. He travels into the living room, and the floor underneath him feels like the one in the old warehouse, with the zombies.
He recalled his dad smashing his head into the wooden floor and breaking his nose after he tried to steal his booze, cause he was so, so, so, thirsty one late night. He shivered. Shivered again.
He tripped and fell onto the floor.
A figure sat up from the couch. It’s Aki. He’s wearing an ill fitting black T-shirt. In the lack of light, he looks like Denji’s father. Denji’s father was blonde, shorter, thirty years older, and did not have a top knot, but Denji’s brain is telling him that he looks like his father.
“Um— sorry, I was just getting water…”
Aki grunts. He closes his eyes. And then opens them again, and slowly gets up. He’s like a zombie. If Denji wasn’t 98% sure Aki was going to deck him in the face or yell at him, he might be laughing. But he wasn’t laughing now. He could barley breathe. He was panting in large globs of air.
“The…” Aki‘s words are barley intelligible, “Someone… left the… freakin’…” He walked up to the fridge and flipped a switch. “ ‘S on ice… She freaks when she wan’ water… ‘n it’s ice…”
Denji had no clue what he was saying. Aki looked like he was going to collapse then and there. He wanted to help, but he also wanted to not get punched. Shit, Aki had never gotten pissed at Denji enough to punch him since like, the first day they met. He wanted to crack jokes. But he couldn't. He was terrified.
He knew it didn’t make sense, because Aki was a very mortal man only armed with a katana that was two rooms away and Denji could make chainsaws come out of his limbs, but the logic couldn’t get to his brain. He didn’t really feel like he was in Aki’s apartment at all, but that tiny, dirty, cramped room he lived in all those years ago. The feeling of glass smashed over his head— the grains in his hair. Cutting his fingers as he clutched his bleeding head. Yelling, screaming. He could hear all of it. Now.
But it was silent.
The other man didn’t seem to notice at all, and hobbled back to the couch in a quiet motion before immediately falling asleep again.
Denji tried to get up, but he only fell again. He was wearing socks. The floor was wood. Aki had just cleaned it yesterday, how could he… how could he forget that?
Apparently the sound was loud enough to wake the man on the couch. He looked around, as if he was blind. “Shit— Wh— Who’s there?”
Denji’s breathes we’re labored. “It’s— It's me…”
“You scared the hell outta me…” Aki said. He seemed to be falling asleep again.
“S—Sorry.” Denji muttered.
Aki got up, not bothering to pick up the blanket as it fell off the couch. He rubbed his eyes. “Can't fall ‘sleep?”
Denji couldn’t speak. He shook his head in slow, forced movements.
“Mmm… When my brother couldn’t… I used to… Ugh….” He slapped himself. The action shocked Denji. 𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵’𝘴 𝘨𝘰𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘣𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶, his brain told him. He let out a hiss and brought his knees closer to his chest in fear. He felt his hands shaking, trying to grip the floor.
“Okay, I’m awake.” Aki said, his voice much more clear. His hand hovered over his cheek, which was quickly turning red. He switches on the kitchen light. It illuminates his face completely, but Denji still can’t see Aki, “God, why did I do that?” He looked at Denji, “Why’re you on the floor?”
“Fell.” Denji manages to force the words out.
“Well, get up.” Aki scratches his head. Denji thinks about how much it would hurt if those fists were hitting against his teeth, “Power probably brings in diseases from goddamn Russia. You’ll get sick.”
Denji doesn’t move except to shake. He tries to stop, but it only makes him shake harder. Aki stares at him. He feels like Aki is ripping open his chest. He feels hot and ashamed.
“You’re scared.” Aki says. It’s not a question.
“I’m— Uh.” He scrambles around on the floor. He tries to get up, but his elbows give out. He looks up, very seriously, “I’m stoned.”
“You’re… stoned.” Aki repeats.
“I’m so high right now.” Denji laughs. It comes out as more of a sob.
Aki sighs. He rubs his temples. It’s a habit he has, Denji notices. He wonders if it’s one he’s always had, all his life. “Do you need help? Or do you— want me to go away? I was gonna… make you some milk… but… I’m— I’m not gonna hit you, or anything. You know that, right?”
Denji nods, slowly. He’s slowly itching himself away from the man.
“Okay.” Aki says. He sighs, again. Then pauses. “You know who I am, right?”
The question pierces Denji right in the gut. He knows it’s Aki. He knows, he knows. But Denji’s body is telling him *it’s not*. But he knows, he knows.
“Yes!” Denji says, quickly, “I’m not— I’m not crazy, Aki.”
“I don’t think you’re crazy.” Aki stated. His eyes are hooded underneath the kitchen light, “If you didn’t recognize me— that wouldn’t— that wouldn’t make you crazy.” He grips his pants, “Sometimes I wake up… and I don’t know who you or Power are.”
“Oh.”
“Because of bad memories.” He looks off into the distance. He doesn’t seem as if he’s here, “I still expect to… be in my old house. So when you and Power are there it… throws me off. It’s like that for you too?” It comes out as more of a statement than a question.
Denji nods again, even though it’s different. He’s too confused to disagree right now.
“Yeah. You said I’m crazy, earlier. Maybe I am. But not because of that, okay?” He looks at Denji for confirmation. His facial expression reminds Denji of himself. The wanting, the desire for someone else to confirm something. It’s unsettling. Aki doesn’t ask things. He tells orders. Denji slowly nods once again, “And if *you’re* crazy it’s because you jump into battles with devils without even a singular weapon. Not ‘cause of this.” He gestures around, “I get it. It’s fine.”
It doesn’t feel fine.
“You should get up, now.”
Denji gets up. He then tries to leave.
“Wait, wait.” Aki calls out. “Just… sit down.” He points to the chairs in front of the kitchen table.
Denji sits down.
“Are you specifically scared of me?” Aki asks. He doesn’t sound sad. He doesn’t look sad either. But Denji still feels as if the man is crying, for some reason.
He clears his throat and tries to find his voice. It’s hard. He keeps spitting out unintelligible sounds. But Aki doesn’t say anything. He just waits. The boy clears his throat again. “No.” He feels defensive, even though Aki just saw him scrambling around on the floor like a crab with no shell, “And I wasn’t scared of anyone. I can make a chainsaw come out of my head.”
Aki coughs. His eyebrows are weighing down on his eyes. It’s a strange picture. “Alright. You can talk to me, you know?”
Feeling it’s safe to joke, he lets out a sigh. “You were makin’ fun of me for not being able to read just earlier today.”
Aki blushed. He was taking the milk out of the fridge, and placing it into their silver kettle. “I thought you were my age. And had an education. I wouldn’t… make fun of a kid like that.”
“If I had an ‘education’ I’d be able to read, duh.” Denji explains. He makes a circle motion with his finger, “Also, again with the age. It seriously don’t matter.”
He realizes he’s made a mistake when Aki looks at him coldly. Well, not him. He knows it’s not directed at him— his logical brain is telling him that. But Denji’s logical brain has never really been that loud before. “It seriously *does* matter. I won't— I’m not gonna call you a victim, alright?” Aki waves his hands around, “But what happened to you, with the… paying adults money. That’s not okay. It will never be fucking okay. And— And you can say you aren’t a victim, alright, I get that. But don’t… say it was okay. Or that it didn’t matter. It wasn’t okay. And it does matter.” He looks at the boy. And he really does make Denji feel like a boy. Denji wonders if all nineteen year olds act like this, “You matter.”
Denji has never heard Aki speak for so long about him. He looks at the man in shock. No. Maybe not shock. He’s not shocked. He’s… He doesn’t know what he is. This day has been weird. He learned things he didn’t want to know about himself. And things about Aki. He didn’t know if he wanted to forget those things though. There was a warm feeling in his chest when he thought about them, even though they were bad things. It’s weird. He felt… less alone, even though what they bonded over wasn’t good. Even though it was a weird, sad thing.
It wasn’t normal to be scared of nothing. Denji’s dad told him that. He told him that while kicking him across the floor as the boy coughed up blood. He knew forgetting about the people you lived with wasn’t normal. He wondered if someone told Aki that while kicking him across the floor, too. He wanted, right then and there, he wanted so badly to go back to all those times Aki had forgotten, all alone in the dark, and just be there for him.
It hit them then that maybe Aki didn’t get up in the middle of the night because he didn’t want to be in the same bed with him and Power. Maybe he got up because he didn’t know who they were, and he was scared.
“Okay.” Denji says. His fingers have stopped gripping empty air.
“Okay?” Aki asks. His tone of voice is soft.
Denji smiles into his hand. “Yeah, okay.”
“Now that I know you’re 16, also, don’t ever try to drive my car again.” Aki says, still talking as if he were smiling despite his lips being in a straight line, “God, no wonder you suck so bad.”
“Going to make fun of the kid who couldn’t even go to school?” Denji answers sarcastically, “Woooow, Aki. Wow.”
“Your atrocious driving skills have nothing to do with that.” He pauses for a second. He looks at the floor. Then back at Denji, “I’m gonna teach you, so you’ll have no excuse.”
“What?! This and school and therapy…” The boy falls dramatically onto the counter, glancing up at the other man, “Why do you want me to die?”
“It’s called being a normal human.”
“I can make a chainsaw come out of my head!” Denji explained, exasperated. The unignorable beating in his chest was now gone.
“And you piss and shit like the rest of us.”
“Actually, not since the transformation.”
“You’re joking.”
“Yeah. Your face was funny, though”
“Dick.” Aki laughed. He took the kettle off the stove and placed it onto another burner, “I don’t know if you can put milk into a kettle.”
Denji watched the man pour steaming milk into a cup with careful concentration. “I’ll live.”
“Yeah, I know you will.” Aki smiles.
Denji thinks he will too.