Chapter Text
It's supposed to be a normal day – and it is, for the most part. Aki completes an assignment in the morning and patrols quite uneventfully in the afternoon, returning to the bureau and dutifully filing in his paperwork before the sun goes down.
That's when the 'normal' ends.
He clocks out and walks to the nearest coffee shop, getting himself a cappuccino in a styrofoam cup that he swears never closes right; they never do. Hopefully he doesn't make a mess of his suit like last time. Aki sighs as he stops by a red light, the traffic slowing down to allow pedestrians to cross.
His shoulders tense up.
His eyes find, on the other side of the street, a… dog? A dog devil? Aki narrows his eyes at the round, orange thing with a chainsaw protruding from its head, sitting down and wagging its tail as if it's waiting to cross the street.
Chainsaw Devil, huh?
Work is really never done. Aki pushes his cup into the first passerby that he finds, and takes heavy steps towards the other side before the cars have even finished stopping, one hand reaching for the katana on his back, unsheathing it just as the devil looks up to its side, tongue dangling.
It's staring at a young man with an eyepatch and golden blond hair, whose visible eye widens at Aki, his features growing pale.
He snatches the devil and runs away.
Aki frowns – what the fuck is that guy doing? – and, after the half a second of shock he allows himself to have, runs after them; he chases them down the streets, dodging people left and right, surprised at how nimble the young man is – especially when carrying such a clumsily round devil in his arms.
The blonde ducks into an alleyway; Aki makes a sharp turn to follow him there and, out of sheer reflex, swings up his katana to slice the wooden box that's thrown his way, each half noisily clattering onto the ground. The young man widens his eyes and sets out again, but he's stopped for long enough that Aki's able to dash forward, thrusting his sword into the narrow space between the blonde's arm and waist, where just a little glint of orange fur shows, partially hidden by an army green jacket.
The blonde's single chocolate eye moves back to see Aki's movement, and he dodges to the side at the cost of having his arm shallowly cut. That maneuver costs him some of his balance; Aki tackles him, sending him to the ground, and he promptly curls his body over the devil. "If you wanna kill Pochita," he growls, "You'll have to kill me first!"
Pochita?
Aki hesitates.
He curls his hand tighter over the handle of his katana, while the young man beneath him trembles with, who knows, adrenaline, fear, anger. "That thing you're holding," Aki begins, eyes on the glistening chainsaw peeking from underneath the blonde's shoulder, "Is a devil."
"He's not just a devil! He's my friend."
Aki would laugh if he wasn't busy choking on his own breath.
Before he's able to ask more about this absurd affirmation, a heavy slithering sound comes from behind, raising the hairs all over his body. Aki slides an arm under the young man's waist, setting his feet firmly on the ground on each side and, holding tightly to the lithe body, propels himself to the side.
A colossal snake destroys the side of the alleyway they were just in, its mouth wide open. Aki lands on his back but quickly rolls over, sheathing his katana to pick up the youth that simply will not let go of the Chainsaw Devil, an arm behind his back and another beneath his legs, just in time to dodge a spray of acid that melts the wall beside him. They're in a place too narrow; easy targets.
"That a friend of yours, too?" Aki grumbles as he's running through the alley towards the open space behind this Snake Devil that relentlessly spits acid at them. The young man he's holding – how can he be so light? He's not that much smaller than Aki – grumbles unintelligibly, looking way too calm for someone who's on the verge of becoming dissolved bloody goo. "Just another Thursday, huh," the hunter mumbles unamused, evading one last dive of the humongous serpent and reaching a grassy area between buildings.
Crouching down and cradling the young man against his chest with one arm, Aki makes the hand sign to summon the Fox Devil's head and,
"Kon!"
The skin of his arms shreds and tears, hot blood burning his flesh and seeping into the fabric of his suit; the snake opens its mouth wide, lunging at them to devour. The young man huddles closer to Aki, curling over the Chainsaw Devil, his single chocolate eye widening at the gigantic fox that bites into the snake's neck. Aki watches it happen through the reflection in his eye, a glint of something golden beneath – the Fox Devil slams the serpent into the ground, and tosses it into the air to take it into its mouth, eating whole.
"What's your name?"
The blonde draws in breath, his eye switching over to Aki, something bleak and hopeless shining within them. Aki surmises that his debatably accidental display of power made it clear that there's no escape. "Denji," the young man exhales after a moment, his voice muffled by the sloppy sounds of a feast beside them.
"Denji," Aki repeats tentatively, tasting each syllable as they roll off his tongue. "How long have you been friends with Pochita?"
"Ever since I was a kid."
"And he never hurt anyone?"
Denji's eyebrow furrows, a scowl settling on his lips. "Of course not! Pochita is good!"
Aki looks at the orange ball of fur trembling in the blonde's arms, its big round eyes shining glossily at him, narrowed with a tiny frown that closely mimics Denji's. It huddles protectively close to the blonde, lightly revving up its engine. This Pochita is… strangely expressive.
"...don't kill him," Denji murmurs, his frown fixed in place. Aki can't tell whether he's pleading or attempting to give an order. "He's all I have."
Sighing, Aki lets his gaze drift away. "Alright," he relents, trusting his instincts, "I won't kill him. But if I ever learn that he committed a misdeed, you'll wish I'd killed you two. Understood?"
Both Denji's and Pochita's expressions soften; the blonde nods.
"Good; let's take you home. Where do you live?"
Aki backtracks with the two to the bureau, tucking Denji and Pochita into the back of his car and attempting to close the seatbelt around the Chainsaw Devil a few times before giving up. He still makes sure that Denji's properly secured, though, before starting to drive them to this shack they apparently live in.
It's in the middle of nowhere, a pretty long ride, but Aki doesn't mind – he opens his window and lights up a cigarette to relax; driving feels good, even though there's a disheveled guy in the backseat who's apparently friends with a devil and they both smell like they haven't seen a shower ever since they were born – blood, sweat, dirt, rust, and something earthly like mud and leaves. Aki isn't sure whether he wants to know why his scent is so… wild.
Somewhere along the way, a loud growl coming from the back of the car takes his attention – Aki glances at the two through the rearview mirror, seeing Denji looking away with a small pout, while Pochita curls up on his lap looking quite uncomfortable.
The growl resounds again. Denji's pout becomes more strained. Pochita exhales a little sigh. Aki returns his gaze to the road.
"Do you have anything to eat back home?" the hunter questions, taking a long drag from his cigarette.
No reply.
"Denji—"
"No."
Aki releases what remains of the smoke inside his lungs, and promptly makes a detour. He hasn't been that much to this side of the city, so it's one hundred percent luck when it doesn't take him long to find a place to eat – a small takoyaki store with four stools and just two tables. "Is takoyaki okay with you?" Aki asks, as if they have any choice – he has no idea whether there's other restaurants around; this is already pretty far from downtown.
"...I don't have any money."
"I'm not asking you to pay."
Denji widens his visible eye, his lips parting as if he's been startled. "Huh?"
"I said," Aki attempts again, "I'm paying."
Pochita looks at Denji like he's confused, and the blonde looks right back with the same dumb face. Aki sighs. "Come on, Chip 'n Dale, let's get you some food. I'm hungry too." He did end up losing his cappuccino, after all – as well as lots of calories – because of these two.
They get out of the car and Denji follows behind Aki like some sort of puppy – one that's very, very suspicious of his intentions. Aki pretends like he doesn't see the blonde squinting and instructs the two to sit on one of the tables while he orders their food. He gets a portion for each of them, no spice, and watches Denji caressing Pochita's fur while waiting.
When Aki slides the takoyaki plates over the table, their eyes shine and they both gasp, Denji's shoulders rising and Pochita's fur frilling up. Good Lord; they're so similar it's almost disgusting. "Woah," Denji exhales, wiping the corner of his drooling mouth dry with the back of his knuckles, "This looks amazing. Can we– Can we really…?"
"It's all yours."
Denji and Pochita smile at each other. The blonde claps his hands together, mumbling a small, "Thank you for the meal!" while the devil makes a noise that would maybe sound like speech if Aki had never heard a person talking before.
The two begin eating and Aki shortly follows, although not nearly as enthusiastically as them. He’s more interested in watching the absurd duo as they dig in, Denji popping an entire takoyaki into his mouth every time, chewing with his eye closed into a half moon. Aki watches him for a moment longer, and then, “Denji. What were you doing on the other side of the city?”
His eyelid slides open to reveal a chocolate iris staring right back at Aki. He finishes chewing and swallows down before replying with something that makes Aki’s head drop and his eyebrow twitch:
“Killing a devil for the Yakuza.”
Aki needs a smoke more than he needs the takoyaki.
He pushes his plate towards the blonde, who grins in return, and fishes inside his pockets for his pack and lighter, mechanically lighting up a stick. He continues holding the lighter, flipping and closing the lid just to keep his hand busy. “What the hell are you messing with the Yakuza for? That never ends well.”
“Not like I have a choice,” Denji shrugs, “My old man left a huge-ass debt before he died and I’ve been trying to pay it since. It’s kinda difficult to make progress with all those zeroes though.”
I bet the interest keeps rising, too. He’ll never finish paying them, no matter what he does.
Aki isn’t sure what else there is to say, so he relents to smoking in silence, watching how quickly the food disappears from their plates… until it stops, from Denji’s side. Aki’s gaze rises to the blonde’s face, and his cigarette almost drops from his lips – his expression’s strained, his visible eye glossy, and his lips pressed together tightly.
“Thank you,” he says quietly, “For your kindness. Mister.”
“Hayakawa Aki,” the hunter finally introduces himself.
“Aki…” the blonde says tentatively, as if tasting the hunter’s name, much like he’d done to the blonde’s own, while poking at his food. “It’s got a nice ring to it.”
The hunter watches as Denji picks up a takoyaki and, instead of eating it, offers it. This young man, who seems to barely have enough to go by, is still kind enough to share what he’s been given, and even look expectant as he does it.
“You’re really not eating anymore? You barely touched your food, and you said you were hungry.”
Aki wants to tell him that it’s okay, that he has food at home unlike the blonde, but just the thought of it makes his chest constrict and his stomach ache. How long has it been since you’ve had a proper meal, Denji?
He accepts the offer just because Denji really, really looks like he wants to share.
“Aright. Just one more.”
Placing an upturned palm beneath the takoyaki to catch it in case it falls, Aki opens his mouth wide and takes the bun whole, watching as Denji’s jaw falls slightly agape and the apples of his cheeks dust light pink. The blonde clears his throat and resumes eating, stealing a few glances at Aki throughout his meal. When they’re both done, Denji caresses Pochita’s fur, his tongue dangling out like a dog’s. “Hehe, your tummy’s full now, eh? Be a good boy and thank the nice mister.”
Aki isn’t sure what kind of sound it is that Pochita makes – he woofs? Maybe? In any case, the hunter nods in response, in automatic politeness. This thing… actually listens to Denji, huh?
Once they’re in the car again, the two fall asleep huddled closely together, Pochita embraced by Denji as they curl up in the backseat. They don’t take very long to reach the place where the blonde says they live in; it’s easy to find with the reference points Aki was given before the ride. He stops the car and taps his finger nervously against the wheel.
They live in this secluded, ruined shack? It’s falling apart. Aki feels like he’d have his organs harvested if he so much as came close to that thing; it’s a surprise it doesn’t have ‘free candy’ written in blood on the wall.
He glances at the two in the back – still sleeping deeply – and gets out of the car, leaving the door open as he makes his way to the cabin. He pushes the door open as slowly as it’ll go.
If the outside is creepy, the inside of the place is… disheartening.
The only things that Aki would say belongs in a home are an old, moldy mattress that he guesses is their bed, and a table that looks like it’s seen better days. The rest is…
Do they even have water and electricity? It doesn't look like it. And Aki thinks that they have a bigger issue than simply not having any food.
It's called not having anything at all.
…it's… not his problem, is it? He's just giving them a ride. Offered them a meal because they were hungry along the way, and that's that. They have nothing to do with each other, he owes them nothing, he's… he's just a kind passerby. His presence is transitory, and ultimately inconsequential.
Aki rubs the bridge of his nose and returns to the car, opening the door to the backseat in silence. He watches the two for a short moment, taking a few breaths to try and quench his discomfort; he reaches for Denji when it doesn't work. "Denji… Denji, wake up. We're here," he calls, his hand gently shaking the blonde's waist. Aki feels the bump of each individual rib beneath his palm, Denji's surprisingly sturdy but abusively lean muscles tightening as he stirs, grumbling.
"Mm… home…?"
"...home," Aki affirms.
Denji sits up in a daze, Pochita stretching on his lap, and rubs his visible eye. Aki wonders what happened to the other one.
"Thanks for the ride," Denji mumbles with a yawn, exiting the car with his pet devil in his arms; it seems much more awake than the blonde. "I guess– Uhm. See ya someday. Aki."
"Yeah. See you."
Denji tightens his grip on Pochita, his chocolate eye glancing at the ground, and takes leisurely steps towards his shack. Aki closes the back door and enters the car, watching the two turn around to wave him goodbye with a smile, Pochita's mouth opening no doubt to produce another weirdly dog-like sound. He can even hear it inside his head.
Aki starts up the car and makes a turn to leave where he came from, taking one last peek at the two through the rearview mirror.
Denji isn't smiling anymore.
Aki stops the car.
He smacks his head on the steering wheel, stupidly honking the horn with his forehead. "What am I doing with my life...?" He turns off the car yet again and opens the door to get out. Folding an arm over the roof of the car and leaning his weight against it, Aki glances at the befuddled Denji cocking his head to the side, golden locks falling over his eyepatch. "Go get your stuff. You're coming with me," Aki says just loud enough for Denji to hear him without actually screaming.
The blonde frowns, glancing down at Pochita with the most confused expression Aki has ever seen in a human being; his face basically a question mark. He looks back at Aki, motionless, probably wondering if he's heard this madman right.
"Go, Denji."
He doesn't need to hear it a third time. He sets down Pochita, who sits down with his tail wagging and his head tilting to the side, and runs into the shack.
Aki lights up another cigarette and sits down on the driver's seat with his legs dangling outside, his gaze on the grass as he waits and tries his best not to think about the sheer stupidity, foolishness, impulsiveness, insanity of what he's doing. It doesn't take long for Denji's shoes to enter his line of sight, followed by Pochita's big round eyes; the little devil woofs happily at him. He has the distinct impression that this thing is saying his name.
Aki exhales a cloud of smoke and feels his brain leaving his skull along with it.
"...what's going on, exactly?" the blonde asks.
"I have no fucking idea; just– Just roll with it, yeah?"
"Sure. What am I rolling with, though?"
Aki's eyes roll up to meet Denji's. He holds the blonde's gaze for a while, only breaking eye contact to take a drag of his cigarette, when his uneasiness – or maybe embarrassment, because he's making a fool of himself? He's not sure – becomes too much to handle. Standing up, Aki flicks the stick onto the ground and kills it with the heel of his shoe, languidly releasing the last of his smoke through parted lips, a sudden drizzle falling mutely over the grass. "I want you to come live with me."
Denji's backpack slides to the ground.
Aki's apartment feels different from usual when he opens the front door, perhaps because he's welcoming new people in.
Rather, a person and a devil.
He still can't believe he's allowing the latter into his precious, holy sanctuary, but he guesses that's what's happening now, huh? He stands by the doorway, beckoning them to enter, which Denji does with uncertain, hesitant steps. Pochita doesn't seem to mind the unfamiliar surroundings, happily skipping inside and sniffing at every piece of furniture he finds.
Denji, meanwhile, looks around, holding on to the strap of his backpack. He stops in the middle of the living room while Aki closes the door behind him, and doesn't move from his spot.
"...Denji?" the hunter inquires as he's stepping beside him, noticing how his single eye is shining as he watches the drizzle outside through the glass door to the balcony.
"It doesn't rain inside your place," the blonde comments in a small voice.
Aki tightens his jaw, following Denji's gaze.
Now it's your place, too.
"Denji, Pochita," Aki calls; both of them turn their heads to attentively face him. The hunter takes a breath, weighing the words inside his mind before letting them spill from his lips, "Welcome home."