Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Denji wakes up sweltering hot, unable to breathe, and with something digging into his kidney.

It’s about par for course.

He reaches blindly for his face and comes into contact with a small fuzzy body. Nyako grumbles her displeasure at the shoving that follows, but scrambles off him after a few seconds. Denji draws in a gasping breath, snaps his eyes open, and sits up on his elbows.

A dim room greets him. After a minute or two of squinting, he makes out the forms of Tiramisu pressed up against his left side, Cream Puff on his left, and Tapioca and Mochi by his feet. The sea of fur is broken up by Nayuta. Her elbow is no longer digging into his side now that he's sitting up. Her other arm is still thrown over his stomach, her head lolling in his lap. The sight almost brings a smile to his face.

A series of images flash through his mind, threatening to lapse over his vision, and he can't quite manage it.

Denji flops back down and closes his eyes. He's greeted by bullet holes and blood. Chainsaws and meat. Betrayals and mistakes. 

He's pulled back to reality by something warm and wet slapping against his face. With a disgruntled squawk, he snaps his eyes open to find Custard leaning over him and licking away.

"Hey," Denji grumbles, reaching up to push the husky away. "Get o-"

Custard shoves his tongue in his mouth.

"Gah!"

Denji sits bolt upright, sticking his tongue out and scrubbing at it furiously. "Dam ih daw," he chokes out, "Thah's no' c-"

"Denji?" comes Nayuta's muffled voice.

He drops his hand, closes his mouth, and shoots an accusatory glare at the utterly unapologetic dog before turning his attention to the little girl laying down next to him. Her head is still in his lap, but she's angled her face so that one half-opened eye peeks up at him.

"Sorry," Denji whispers. "Did I wake you up?"

Nayuta makes a noise that is neither confirmation nor denial.

Kinda.

Not really.

The thing is, Denji hasn't had Nayuta for very long, but he has learned a thing or two. He knows that she's a good, quiet kid, the kind that will tolerate her dumbass of a guardian waking her up without complaining about it. Not saying that he didn't wake her up is as good as saying that he did.

"Sorry," he repeats with a grimace.

"'S fine," she mumbles.

Nayuta doesn't sit up so much as roll off of Denji's lap. She lays down on the futon for a few moments, peering furtively up at him, before a tiny frown crosses her face. "Did you have nightmares again?" she asks.

Denji swallows. Then he grins and reaches out to paw Custard. The husky lets out a pleased groan and inches forward on all fours, dangerously close to crawling into his lap. "Custard was being an ass," he says.

Nayuta's frown deepens. "That's not an answer."

"Sure it is!" Denji protests, even though he knows that's not what he means. Of course Kishibe had to drop him with a smart kid.

"It doesn't say anything about your nightmares," Nayuta insists, a dog with a bone.

Well. At least they're both dogs this time.

Denji sighs, shoulders drooping. "I didn't keep ya up, did I?"

Nayuta shakes her head.

"'Cause if I did, you coul- well, you probably should start sleeping in your own room."

"I like sleeping with you," Nayuta immediately protests.

She's looking him in the eyes when she says it. They're bright golden eyes marked with amber circles. Oh the worst days, he can barely look at them without feeling the horrible aching tug that he's come to associate with their last owner. They aren't doing that this morning, but for an instant, they're bright yellow with red crosshairs for pupils and a devious glimmer dancing in their depths.

He blinks and they're back to normal. They were never any different. It's just early, he's just tired, and Nayuta's...

She's nothing like Power, for the most part. But sometimes, in the middle of the night and the earliest hours of the morning, it's too easy to imagine that she's back with him.

"Yeah," Denji relents, because even though he's pretty sure that he shouldn't drop his problems on a kid, he suspects that blatantly lying to her would be even worse. The whole point of this is making sure that she doesn't grow up all fucked up and evil. Lying to her about little things sounds like it something that would make that a lot harder. "It wasn't bad though."

He would have woken her up a lot earlier if it was bad. These were just his normal nightmares.

Nightmares . He isn't even sure if he should call them that. They're bad dreams, sure, but nightmares are supposed to be made up. You're supposed to be able to shake them off and walk away when you wake up. These are different, though. They're memories that he doesn't think he'll ever be able to shake.

There's no way that he'll tell her that though. Maybe someday, but right now, Nayuta is a kid. She's a little too smart and generally kinda odd, but she's sweet, soft-spoken, and well-intentioned. And Makima was... Makima. They aren't the same person, but she was her in another life, and right now, Denji's scared that finding out what her previous incarnation did would tear her apart from the inside out. He knows that he might not be giving her enough credit, but frankly, he isn't willing to take the risk.

Let her think that his nightmares are just nightmares. As long as he doesn't give her any reason to ask too much about them, he won't have to lie.

"Can I help?" Nayuta asks.

Denji smiles softly. "Sure can," he says, reaching out to brush a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "You can help by snugglin' the dogs and going back to sleep."

Nayuta frowns. "How will that help?"

"It'll help by keepin' them calm and making sure you aren't grumpy when it's time for breakfast."

A serious look crosses Nayuta's face. When she nods, it's with all the weight of someone who's accepted a grave mission. "Okay," she declares. "I'll keep them calm."

Denji's grin widens. "Atta girl."

He reaches up onto his tiptoes and stretches his arms out above his head when he stands up. In his peripheral vision, he can see Nayuta settling back down on the futon, cuddled up against Tiramisu. A quick survey of the room shows Taffy and Taiyaki asleep in a pile in the corner. The only animals who are up and about are Nyako and Custard, the former sitting impatiently by the door and the latter wagging his tail so ferociously that Denji knows he'll be following him out.

Two fuzzballs who'll want food, outside time, and attention. Alright, Denji can deal with that. If he's quiet, he can sneak out of the room without waking any of the others up. Once all of them are up, any chance of him getting some peace and quiet before it's time to start the day will fly out of the window.

He sneaks out of the bedroom like a secret agent. Even Custard seems to understand how important it is to be quiet right now. The husky is practically subdued as he follows him. Denji's footsteps are calculated. The door is gripped quietly, opened softly, and closed gently. It's only when he's safe and in the hall that he lets out a sigh of relief and lets himself fall from his tiptoes down to flat feet.

Denji makes it halfway down the hallway before his eyes flick over to the window. He doesn't know why he bothers; it was dark enough in the room that he knows the sun can't have risen yet. His gaze gets caught on the dark sky regardless.

A few weeks ago, Denji willingly got up before sunrise for the first time in his life. It happened a few more times before he got Nayuta. Since then, it's become commonplace.

Aki wouldn't be able to believe it if he could see it.

Denji's smile disappears.

He takes in an unsteady breath and starts back down the hallway.

The first thing he does is let Custard out. He bolts out with an energetic bark, probably excited to have the small back yard to himself for once. A quick sweep of his leg stops Nyako before he can follow the husky outside. Denji can’t help but feel a little stupid for it; he knows that Nyako was a stray before Power found him, and the two certainly spent enough time outside. Yet something about the thought of letting her wander around and potentially run into god knows what doesn’t sit right with him.

Denji slides the door closed and bends over to scoop the cat up. Disgruntled yellow eyes stare into his own. Nyako lets out a displeased yowl, and Denji feels the beginnings of a smile crawl across his face. “I know, but if I let you out, you could get kidnapped by a devil again. Then what’ll I do?”

Kick the devil’s ass, obviously, but it’s still a hassle that he’d like to go without.

Nyako reluctantly settles down into his arms as he walks into the kitchen. He sets her down on the countertop before moving to open the cabinet. In theory, he knows that he probably shouldn’t be putting her there, but what’s the point in delaying the inevitable? She’ll just jump onto the counter if he puts her anywhere else, and he’s grappled with her enough to know that there’s no real point in trying to keep him down.

It’s easier to feed Nyako before the huskies. They’ll eat anything, but she’s picky for some mongrel Power dragged out of the forest. If the dogs are crowding around, she’ll let them have her food and try to steal Denji’s breakfast, which will make the dogs start begging for it too, and it’ll be a whole affair.

Those mornings are chaotic but common. This morning’s peace is rare, but nice.

He just has to make sure that he doesn’t slip too far into his own thoughts.

Denji plops a quarter of a can of cat food down on a plate and sets it down beside Nyako. He stuffs the rest of the can in the fridge before turning back around to watch the cat eat. It doesn’t take long. Never does, with him. When you’ve spent long enough not knowing when your next meal will be, you lose the ability to eat slowly. It doesn’t matter how long you go with reliable food and shelter. You can get better, but you can never be normal.

It’s probably a good thing. A normal cat never would have been able to put up with… 

Nyako’s had to deal with more than a normal cat could tolerate.

She licks her lips, jumps off the counter, and wanders off when she finishes eating. Denji watches him go for a moment before dumping the plate in the sink. It’ll start to stink if he leaves it for too long, even though it only has a tiny smear of cat food on it, but he can leave it until after breakfast. Enough trial and error has left him with a good idea of how long he can afford to put off basic household chores.

In most cases, the answer is not very fucking long.

Denji makes the short walk back to the back door. Through the glass, he can see Custard digging a hole near the back fence.

“Hey!” he cries, yanking the door open.

Custard perks his head up and barks at him.

“I don’t wanna have to give you a bath today!” Denji yells, pointing at the husky, who barks again before charging at him. Before he can do anything about it, he’s shoving his way through the door, trailing dirt in behind him. 

Great, just great. That’s…

…Not too bad, actually. The dirty pawprints fade out before very long. What’s there can easily be taken care of with a damp towel. When he looks at Custard, who’s standing a few feet away, wagging his tail and staring at him with a shameless doggy grin, he only sees a medium amount of dirt clinging to the soft white fur of his front legs. He can probably get it out with a little brushing.

Most importantly, it isn’t important enough for him to deal with it right now.

“I’ll deal with you later,” Denji says. “Be good while I’m in the shower, ‘kay?”

Custard lets out a low whuff. It’s quiet enough that it won’t wake Nayuta or the other dogs, so he takes it as an agreement. 

The shower is a dangerous place to be. The warm water takes some of the strain out of his muscles and allows him to relax. For a while, it gives him a chance to think about everything that he needs to do and plan out his day.

Then his mind starts to wander.

Denji never lets himself shower for very long. 

He doesn’t realize his newest conundrum until he steps out of the shower and wraps a towel around himself. All of his clothes are in his bedroom. 

So are Nayuta and the rest of the dogs.

What are the chances that he can grab his stuff without waking them up?

Denji considers the problem for a moment before dismissing it with a shrug. He can cook in just a towel. It’s not like it’s anything he hasn’t done before. The question is, what to make. He could subside on just his super toast if it came down to it, but he’d feel bad making Nayuta do the same. Trouble is, he’s not any good at cooking. He’s trying to get better and Nayuta never complains about what he gives her, but he knows. Oh, he knows. Nothing he makes can compare to Aki’s cooking. He doesn’t think it ever will.

He wishes that Nayuta understood what she’s missing.

Stop that, he thinks.

He walks into the kitchen and pulls his beaten-up cookbook down from the top of the fridge. It’s full of American-style recipes; he and Power had found it wedged behind the refrigerator when they first moved it. They never thought they’d use the thing. Now… Well, Denji gets takeout more often than not, but he uses it a lot more than he ever expected to.

After a few minutes of flipping through the pages, he settles on a pancake recipe. It looks easy enough.

Denji nods to himself and sets the cookbook down on the counter, pages open to the recipe. He catches a glimmer of light through the kitchen window as he does.

The sun is rising. A new day has begun.

*

As it turns out, pancakes are messy to make and burn easily. Still, Nayuta looks like she enjoys them enough, so Denji counts it as something close to a win. He waits until she’s done to wipe down the counters and do the dishes. There’s still some mess left after that, but he’s taken care of everything that could attract roaches, so he’s more than willing to leave the rest for later.

From there, the day melts into a mix of keeping Nayuta and the dogs occupied and watching for anything that may need Chainsaw Man’s attention. The living room makes a good home base for that. It’s close enough to the door that he can let the dogs out quickly if he needs to. There’s a table where he can work on things with Nayuta. Most importantly, there’s a large, flat-screen television secured to one of the walls, which he keeps diligently turned to the local news network.

It’s honestly pretty boring having the news on all the time. The fear that he may miss a big devil attack keeps him from changing it, but on slow days like today, it’s just a bunch of talking heads droning on about stuff that he couldn’t care less about. He doesn’t love arts and crafts, but compared to the stock market or whatever elsethe people on tv are talking about, it’s the most entertaining shit in the world.

Denji’s in the middle of smearing bright pink glitter glue across a purple sheet of paper when the phone rings. He sets the tube of glue down and rises to his feet.

Nayuta, who had been furiously scribbling on her own piece of blue paper with a yellow pencil, pauses and looks up, eyes wide and questioning. 

Denji shoots her a smile. “It’s probably nothing,” he assures her. He reaches out to rub her head, but the sight of the sticky globs of pink glitter clinging to his skin make him withdraw at the last second. “Uh… I’ll be right back,” he says.

With that, he races into the kitchen. It’s with glue-covered hands that he takes the phone off the receiver and holds it up to his ear. “Kishibe?” he asks, because he’s the only person who calls these days. Lately, it’s mostly been to check in on Nayuta and talk about the possibility of getting him enrolled in highschool. When he isn’t talking about that…

Denji hopes that he’s calling to talk about one of those things.

“Denji. Do you have a moment?” Kishibe asks, and he knows that he isn’t. There’s a weight to his voice that makes his heart sink all the way down into his stomach. He doesn’t know how else to describe it, because he can’t really read into it beyond that. The bastard sounds guarded. It’s still more than enough to set him off.

Not out loud though. Kishibe wants to be all coy and shit? Well, two can play at that game.

“I’ve got all the time in the world,” he says, and shit. He’s supposed to sound all cool and casual, the sound of a smart, capable adult who isn’t remotely scared of what some old man might throw at him. Instead, he sounds like he needs to take a massive crap. Which… he supposes it could be worse. He could sound outright terrified. 

Kishibe’s sigh tells him he’s picked up on it. “You might want to sit down for this,” he says.

Did Denji say that his heart was in his stomach before? Well, now it’s somewhere around his pelvis. He swallows heavily and gives an uneasy chuckle. It feels wrong. But hey, who knows. Maybe he’ll get lucky. Maybe he’ll be able to laugh about whatever horrible thing Kishibe’s calling about later on. “I think I’d like it more if you just pulled the bandaid off.”

“The Blood Devil’s back.”

The world falls out from under Denji’s feet. He opens his mouth, then closes it when he miserably fails to think of anything to say. His heart has rocketed back up into his chest and is hammering so hard that he feels like his ribs are about to crack. There’s a tell-tale burn forming behind his eyes, which is stupid, because he isn’t even sure that he heard what he thinks he heard. Because if he did, that would be- It would mean-

“I don’t think I heard you right,” he croaks. “Did you just say…?”

“It wouldn’t have been on the news yet,” Kishibe says, voice gruff, but not unsympathetic. The sympathy is the worst part. It preemptively shatters any hope that he’s called just to give him what should be the best possible news, warning him that something foul is lurking right around the corner. He shoves it into the corner of his mind as the devil hunter continues speaking. “She’s been lurking at the edge of the forest, occasionally wandering out to terrorize a nearby rural community. She hasn’t caused any real problems yet, but-”

“No worries!” Denji interrupts. “I’ll go get her before she can become too much of a pain.”

“Denji.”

“I don’t know why she went for the forest of all places, but you said Blood Devil, right? So she isn’t in a body? Big-ass devil like that, I don’t think I’ll have any trouble finding her.”

“Denji.”

“It’ll be a pain to wrangle her all the way back here, but-”

“Denji!”

Denji’s teeth click together as he snaps his mouth shut.

Kishibe heaves a tired sigh. “She doesn’t remember anything,” he says.

“I know,” Denji says. His voice comes out as a strained whisper.

“She’s bloodthirsty,” Kishibe adds. “The only reason nobody’s died yet is because we’ve been lucky.”

“Yeah,” he croaks. “That sounds about right.”

Denji isn’t completely ignorant. He knows that Power was Power because of the memories she’d made. What’s left if you strip all that away? The blood devil, the wild bundle of bloodlust and impulses that he and Aki had struggled to reign in.

But that had always been a part of her, hadn’t it? It wasn’t like the Blood Devil and Power were separate beings. Power was the Blood Devil. Therefore, it stands to reason that Power is still buried somewhere inside the Blood Devil, even if she can’t remember any of the things that made her Power.

Denji has to believe that’s the case.

No, really, he has to believe it. He doesn’t have any other option, because-

“Y’know that I made Power a promise, right?” No, that’s inaccurate. Power would probably accuse him of being ungrateful and downplaying her sacrifice if she could hear him. “We made a contract,” he corrects. “She gave me-” - all of her - “-her blood and made me promise to be her friend when she comes back.”

To turn her into Power again.

“I know,” Kishibe says. “That’s why I’m calling. Figured it was only right to give you your chance before anything else.”

Denji opens his mouth. Before he can speak, Kishibe adds, “But kid, this isn’t the person you knew. The Blood Devil is volatile. You need to prepare for the possibility that you won’t be able to keep your end of the contract.”

Denji swallows. He thinks- actually, no, he isn’t going to let himself think about this. There’s no point in thinking. There’s only one way he’s willing to let this thing end.

“Don’t worry about it. I’m gonna fix Power up and bring her back home,” Denji declares.”Where’d you say I can find her again?”

There’s silence from the other end of the line. A hole forms in his not-thinking plan if he wonders if Kishibe’s about to start chewing him out, or worse, refuse to tell him where to find the Blood Devil. His blood starts to burn at the mere thought of the second option. However, before he can bark something out at the old man, he heaves a sigh and rattles off some coordinates. Denji snatches a notepad and piece of paper off the counter and writes them down.

“Thanks,” he says when he’s done. “I’ll let you know how it goes.”

Kishibe’s heavy voice says, “Be smart, Denji.”

The line goes dead.

Suddenly, the whole world moves too slowly. Denji needs to be back with Power now, and every footstep that he needs to take, every minute that it will take for him to find her, every heartbeat, is another obstacle standing in the way of that. He wants to race through the door and run all the way to the forest, where he’ll turn the whole thing upside down until he finds her.

And he would, smartness be damned, if it were just him. 

It’s for Nayuta’s sake that he forces himself to take a deep breath. Instead of running out the door, he starts toward the living room. The possibility that he might look just a little upsetting hits him before he can reach it. With a reluctant sigh, he ducks into the bathroom and looks in the mirror.

A maniac looks back at him. Denji’s eyes and hair are wild. The eyes are understandable. He can’t imagine a world where he wouldn’t look a little worked up after what he just learned. The hair throws him for a moment, but now that he looks back, he thinks that he can remember running his hands through it while talking with Kishibe. It also glimmers with glitter, which… also tracks. Bits of glitter have also made their way down to his shirt, which was once white, has been colorfully stained by paints and markers after numerous crafting sessions.

Denji smooths his hair down and blinks a few times. It returns him to a state that’s close enough to normal that it hopefully won’t set Nayuta off too bad. He still looks like a craft store refugee, but Power can cope. Showering and getting changed would be a waste of time.

A grin plasters itself across his face as he steps out of the bathroom. He can’t tell if it’s genuine or not. On one hand, Power’s back. That’s… good isn’t a strong enough word for the kind of news that is. On the other, he knows that he has to think about the… everything else.

Even though he wishes that he didn’t have to.

Even though he wants nothing more than to charge into that forest and refuse to leave until he’s gotten back at least some small part of the family he lost.

Even though he would gladly toss his current life aside if it meant getting Power back - if it were only his life on the line.

The result is a smile that strains and tingles like it’s been shocked onto his face by an electric current. It feels weird, but he hopes that he at least looks alright.

“Nayuta,” he calls as he steps into the living room.

There’s a flicker of concern in Nayuta’s deep golden eyes when she looks up. It flares up into outright fear as she takes in his expression. “Are you okay?” she asks, already scrambling to her feet.

Shit . So much for not getting her worked up. Damn it, his smile probably looks deranged. He slaps it off his face and holds his hands up placatingly. Ideally, he would come up with something to say immediately, but words fail him. Saying that everything’s fine isn’t an option. It’s either going to be a whole lot better than fine or a whole lot worse than fine, but he’ll need stronger words either way. Stronger words would mean explaining everything, and if he tries to explain-

“Denji?” Nayuta murmurs, taking a step closer.

He’ll have to be careful not to say the wrong thing if he tries to explain. That will take more time than he has right now. He knows that he’ll have to tell her what’s going on eventually, but while Power and Nayuta are both situations that he can’t afford to mess up, only one of them is time-sensitive. 

He can tell Nayuta what’s going on later. Right now, he just needs to make sure she’s all set so that he can leave. Which means making sure that she isn’t worrying her head off over him while he’s away.

Which means calming her down without telling her what’s happening.

God, why are children so hard?

Nayuta has continued approaching while Denji has his crisis of parenting. She’s a couple feet away when he sighs, runs a hand through his hair, and crouches down to her level. “Kishibe called. He had some big news. I’m gonna have to leave for a few hours while I take care of it.”

Nayuta’s brow creases. “Bad news?”

The corners of Denji’s lips twitch up. “No,” he says. Even if he isn’t giving her the full story yet, he can’t bring himself to say that Power’s return is bad. Stressful and dangerous, yes, but not bad. A chance to get her back could never be bad. “I hope it’ll be good news, but there are some things I need to take care of first.”

“Dangerous things?”

“Maybe,” Denji admits. “But hey, I’ve gotten through plenty of dangerous sh- stuff and come out fine, haven’t I?” He offers her a toothy, non-deranged grin. “This ain’t anywhere near the worst of it. I’m just going to see an old friend.”

Nayuta perks up a little. “What kind of friend?”

“Uh…” The sort of friend who was so much more than a friend. He didn’t know how he would begin to explain Power even if he wasn’t in a rush. It was probably a good thing that he had an excuse to put it off. “I’ll tell you about her when she gets back, okay?”

Nayuta hesitates, nibbling on her lower lip and glancing off to the side. A few seconds pass before she looks back at Denji with a sigh. “Okay.”

Denji’s grin grows a little brighter. “You remember how to take care of the dogs while I’m gone.”

Nayuta nods.

That’s that, then. Denji moves to stand up, only to be tackled by an armful of little girl. Nayuta wraps her arms tightly around his waist and buries her face in his neck. “Be safe,” she whispers.

Denji hesitates for a moment before wrapping his arms around her. A second later, he buries his face in her hair. He squeezes his eyes shut, takes in a deep breath, and allows himself to feel the way his chest is tight with grief, fear, and hope as reality sinks in.

The Blood Devil has reappeared on earth.

It’s time for Denji to fulfill his contract.

It’s time for him to get Power back. And if he fails…

He can’t fail. For everyone he’s lost, the sister he could get back, and the little girl in his arms, he needs to pull this off.

“I will,” he promises.

Chapter Text

Denji pulls together an emergency bag and sets out. He moves as fast as he can, yet there are some facets of his reality that he can't unrun no matter how hard he tries. Such as the fact that doesn't own a car or know how to drive.

There's no stopping the sigh that escapes his lips as he slumps down into a seat on the bus. He's lucky that he's able to sit down at all. The bus is filled to the brim with passengers. None of them offer Denji so much as a second glance. This morning, he can't help but think that that might be a good thing. He sets his backpack on his lap and pulls his shoulders in to avoid brushing his arms against either of the people next to him, further ensuring his near-anonymity.

The bus starts moving with a jolt. He turns his head to peer out the window. The scenery passes by in a blur. It looks like they're moving fast, but Denji knows better. Riding the bus is only a few steps up from biking to his destination. If the traffic is okay and they don't have to make too many stops, it will still take him at least an hour and a half to reach his destination. Realistically, he knows that it isn't too long, but he can't bring himself to give a shit about being realistic right now. He can't afford to waste a single minute.

If Aki were still here, he'd drive them out to the forest. They might have already been there by now.

If Aki were still here, he'd have a plan beyond 'go in and remind Power who we are to each other'. They'd have back-up plans upon back-up plans.

If Aki were still here, he wouldn't be having this problem in the first place. He would have found a way to save Power from Makima and they'd all still be-

Denji looks away from the window.

Aki isn't here, but if he were, he'd point out that there's no point in thinking about what could have been. Or, well, no. If he were here, there's a very real chance that he'd obsess over what went wrong and, if he couldn't find a way to fix it, throw everything into getting his making sure it never happens again. But that's not the Aki that Denji needs right now. He needs to focus on the rational, stable side of him, the part that looked out for him and Power, not the self-destructive streak he wasn't able to outrun.

If the best version of Aki were here, he would tell Denji to use this time to plan.

He would tell him to think about his contract with Power.

Denji knows that he probably should have put a lot more thought into it earlier. Power wasn't a fiend anymore when he made his deal with her. Her human body had been destroyed and she had returned as the Blood Devil. The fact that she had been able to shift back into a human form didn't change that. Denji had made a contract with a devil. His life is forfeit if he doesn't uphold his end of the bargain.

Unless it isn't. Power died, after all. Devils never die for failing to uphold their half of a contract with a dead human. It goes to reason that humans are also freed from their contract if the devil that they made the contract with dies.

But he doesn't know that for sure. There's still a chance that he'll die if he isn't able to befriend the Blood Devil.

The thought should terrify him.

It doesn't. After all, it doesn't really matter if his life depends on the fulfillment of this contract. It doesn't change anything.

Denji knows that there's a reason why he doesn't know what happens to the human when a devil dies before a contract can be fulfilled, and it isn't because he's an ignorant kid who never received a formal education. It's because it doesn't happen. There are plenty of horror stories about a human sacrificing their everything for a contract, but never a devil. Not until Power.

She sacrificed herself to give him a fighting chance against Makima. They didn't even know that it would work. She had gone against logic and reason because she had believed that he could defeat a devil who was above him in every way. Not because she had believed in the Chainsaw Devil, but because she had believed in him. In Denji.

Power had sacrificed herself because she trusted that he wouldn't let that sacrifice be in vain.

Just like she trusted that he would befriend the Blood Devil

There's no reason for Denji to be scared of the contract because it doesn't matter if it could kill him. He's going to fight to get Power back like his life depends on it anyway. This isn't the sort of promise that you half-ass or back out of, even if you technically can. As long as there's even a chance of getting her back, he's going to give it his all.

And he knows there's a chance.

Because Denji believes in Power, too.

*

The bus slows down on the outskirts of a small rural community. Denji's grabbed his backpack and risen to his feet before it's fully stopped. He shoves his way to the doors without a care for the glares that he gets in the process. In the few seconds it takes for the doors to open, he bounces up and down on the balls of his feet, allowing the current of anxious energy beneath his skin to force him into perpetual motion. Then the doors open and he's off the bus faster than he can blink.

He has a pretty long walk ahead of him. The bus stopped about half a mile outside the town, and the forest is all the way on the other side. Denji's answer is to jog as fast as his legs can carry him. Which, after a year working with Public Safety and several years hunting devils for the yakuza before that, is pretty damn fast.

The first stretch of the trip is nothing to write home about. Denji jogs past small houses surrounded by flowering yards and cute little fences. As he gets further into town, they give way to rows of stores. There are no large supermarkets out here, but enough small, colorful shops to meet the needs of the small population. It's only once he's passed those that he reaches the farmhouses. The majority of them are old, rickety things, scattered in between pastures and swathes of fields.

It's here that he spots the first signs of Power.

Giant grooves are raked through the ground beside the road where Denji is jogging. Something about the shape of the claw marks sends a pang of aching familiarity through his being. It doesn't make any sense, he knows that he's only seen the Blood Devil's true form once, but he can't shake it.

A few yards up the road, he spots a battered green tractor sitting in a driveway. The same claw marks mangle its side. Judging by how the hood has been warped, a mangled mess of creases and punctures, he suspects that it might have been chewed on as well.

The forest's edge looms on the horizon when he comes across the most glaring sign. Even with the clock bearing down on him, Denji slows down when he spots the pasture. Splinters of wood lay scattered on the grass beneath the ragged edges left behind where something huge forced its way through the fence. The pasture itself is empty save for an old man in dirty overalls. He stands crouched before a dead cow. Long ropes of innards sit piled on the ground where its stomach has been cut open. A puddle of dried blood surrounds it - just not as much blood as he would expect from a disembowelment like that.

Denji stops jogging. There's a voice in the back of his head telling him that he's a fool for wasting time talking to some old man. It reminds him of Power. A calmer voice points out that he might be able to learn something useful if he talks to the farmer. That voice reminds him of Aki.

He decides to listen to Aki for this one.

"Hey," he calls, walking toward the farmer. He looks up to reveal faint disgruntlement written across his lined and weathered face, but he doesn't look outright angry. It's good enough for Denji. He stops a few feet away from the gap in the fence, crosses his arms over the top rung, and leans forward. When he feels it wobble beneath him, he pulls some of his weight back. Impaling himself on a broken fence would definitely be more of a hassle than he wants to deal with right now.

"Do you know what did this?" Denji asks.

The farmer snorts. "Of course. It was that damn devil." He shoots a dirty look into the forest, as if he can spot Power through the trees and eviscerate her with his eyes alone. "'M gonna report the thing to Public Safety tonight."

A cold sweat forms on Denji's palms. He steps back and waves a hand dismissively. "There's no need for that," he says. "I'm here to take care of it for ya."

The seconds pass slowly as the farmer narrows his eyes suspiciously. Denji's acutely aware of the feeling of his heart slamming against his ribcage, trying to climb its way up into his mouth.

"You?" the farmer asks, incredulous. "You're going to kill the thing?"

Denji feels his hands tighten. He grabs the strap of his backpack with one and shoves the other into his pocket. That'll at least slow him down if he gets too tempted to sock the old man. He reminds himself that he probably only knows what most people think they know about devils, that he doesn't know Power. It only does so much to quell the anger threatening to build in him.

"Something like that," Denji says. "You won't have to worry about her anymore once I'm done here."

"You don't look like Public Safety," says the farmer, who couldn't look less convinced if he tried. "I'd expect you to be less... glittery."

Denji looks down at his shirt stained with a rainbow of colors, at his glittery arms, and shrugs. He manages to shoot the farmer a grin when he looks up. "Keeps the devils off guard, y'know?"

The farmer still doesn't look convinced, and yeah, Denji can't exactly blame him, but it's still pretty inconvenient.

He lets out a huff and crosses his arms. His fingers dig into his arms, again nullifying the chance of flying fists. He won't be able to help Power if he gets in a fistfight with some old man. "Look, I said I'm gonna take care of it, and I'm gonna take care of it. So just... give me a shot before you call the big guns in, alright?

The farmer eyes him for a long moment. He breaks it by looking at the forest again, then back at Denji, and letting out a sigh. "I suppose I can wait 'til you get yourself killed," he says.

"Oi, I know what I'm doing!" Denji squawks.

"Sure," the farmer snorts. "In that case, I'll give ya 'til the end of the day."

The irritation coursing through Denji's veins is laced with fear. "That's-"

He cuts himself out with a jolt of stubborn pride. A day isn't very long, but he's planning on giving it his all, isn't he? It's Power that he's dealing with here. She may not have her memories anymore, but he's sure that he still knows her. He can get through to her if he just puts the effort in. Besides, it's not like he can stay out for more than a day anyway. Nayuta will get worried about him. He'll get worried about her; she's a smart kid, but he can't just leave her alone for too long.

"A day sounds perfect," Denji declares.

He leaves the farmer to his dead cow clean up after that. Hiking his backpack a little higher over his shoulders, he jogs over to the forest. His steps slow down as he crosses the boundary into the trees. The scent of pine floods Denji senses when he breathes in through his nose. A hint of blood lingers beneath it. Unfortunately, it's indistinct. He's never been especially good at the tracking-people-by-their-scent thing, and with the overwhelming smell of the trees, he doubts that he's about to become any good at it now.

With that tracking method eliminated, he looks at the ground. The hard earth beneath his feet is made softer by a thick layer of deep green pine needles. They're clumped together in places and scattered in others. Where they're scattered, the thick, familiar grooves of claw marks run through the earth. There are a lot of them. It's impossible to tell how old they are and which ones and coming and going, which would be a problem if not for the fact that they all go in the same direction.

Fucking Power. Does she not realize that she's left such an obvious trail? Or is she just so confident that she can take any opponent that she doesn't think it matters?

Denji grins. It sends a special kind of warmth through his body. He doesn't think he's felt it since... he hasn't felt it in a while.

He keeps breathing through his nose as he follows the footprints. The coppery scent of blood slowly grows stronger. It's already intermingled with the scent of earth - that much is unavoidable in the forest. He can imagine the aromas of cat hair, spices, and body odor intermingling with it all too well. It's not an especially pleasant smell, but it's her, and that makes it one of the best scents in the world.

After a point, the trees open into a grassy clearing.

A deep, rumbling growl echoes through the air the second Denji steps foot in it.

His grin widens.

"Foolish human! How dare you trespass on my domain!?" a voice roars out, deep and rumbling in a way he's only heard once before, but achingly familiar in its pride. He can't tell what direction it's coming from. It might have been impressive if he couldn't see a large form shifting through the trees on the other side of the clearing. It's not even remotely subtle, and he doesn't think he could ever be counted by Power, which makes it corny.

Denji laughs.

Power lets out an aggravated squawk.

Denji laughs harder. He clutches his stomach and falls to his knees, allowing an indescribable concoction of emotions to pour over him.

Power growls and stalks out into the clearing. The Blood Devil is the same oversized, oddly cat-like monstrosity of black paws and exposed organs that he remembers. She keeps herself lowered to the ground as she stalks forward, her tail rapidly flicking back and forth. He's spent enough time around Nyako to know that it either means that she's irritated or about to pounce on him.

He still can't bring himself to feel scared.

"Insolence!" Power cries, ears flattened against her skull. "Let's see what you think of-"

Denji looks up to meet Power's eyes.

"Hey, Powy," he says. "It's nice to see you haven't changed."

Power freezes. "What did you call me?" she asks.

Denji forces himself to his feet. He's vaguely aware that he should probably be on higher guard. The Aki-voice is in the back of his mind reminding him to think carefully before doing everything. He may love the devil across from him, but she doesn't feel the same way. Not yet. She's an oversized critter of a devil with sharp teeth and pointed claws and gross, awesome powers, and until he wins her back, she's dangerous.

But she's Power, and she's alive, and she's in front of him. Right then, Denji doesn't give a damn that she doesn't remember. He doesn't care if she tears him to ribbons while he tries to get her to remember. As he takes in her inhuman form, stained by blood and dirt, all he can see is the chance to finally fix one of the many things that went wrong.

"Powy," he repeats. "It's short for Power."

Power lets out a pleased chuffing sound and sits back on her haunches. "How astute! I am powerful!" she exclaims. "Have you come to pay tribute? Are more humans coming? Oooh!" She leans forward, head stopping a few feet away from Denji. Her lips pull back in a toothy grin. "Are you going to worship me?"

Denji scoffs. "Yeah, right! Who'd ever worship you?"

Power's eyes narrow. She pulls her head back before exclaiming, "Those who hope to harness some of my incredible power, of course!"

There's a smile on Denji's lips, and when he speaks, it is with the voice of someone speaking to his sister. "It's just your name. It doesn't actually mean anything."

Power rises to her feet and stalks closer to Denji. Her voice is not that of someone speaking to her brother. "What gives you the right to name me?"

Denji's smile slips, the warmth inside him flickering like a flame caught in a harsh wind. He tries to swallow, only to find that a lump has formed in his throat. He takes a few steps forward while he tries to clear it away. Power meets his motion by stalking toward his side. Too late, he realizes that he's given her room to fit behind him.

Oh well, he thinks as she begins to circle him. He should have expected some dramatics. This is Power, after all. It doesn't necessarily mean anything.

"I didn't name ya," he says, turning in slow circles so that he can keep his eyes on her. "You named yourself."

Power's tail thrashes. "I did no such thing! I am the almighty Blood Devil, and were I to go be any other title, it would be... it would be something even more powerful!"

"You did, though!" Denji exclaims. "Power's the name you chose in your past life!"

Power tosses her head with a scoff. Droplets of blood trickle down from the viscera on her exposed ribcage. "How would you know that?" she asks, blatantly ignoring the clues right in front of her in a very Power-like fashion.

The Aki-voice is practically screaming at him right now. It's telling him that he's moving too fast, that he needs to slow down and really think about what he's doing. His relationship with Power wasn't built in a day, it doesn't make sense for him to be able to rebuild it in one rushed conversation. The voice is taking sense. Denji knows that it's talking sense.

But Power is right in front of him, almost close enough for him to touch. She's alive and so clearly her and Denji just wants to have her back already. So he shoves the voice into the back of his mind, because he can't let himself slow down, and he needs to hold onto this wild, desperate hope that he'll be coming home with his sister, and Aki's dead, so what right does he have to tell him what to do?

"I know because you told me!" Denji cries, very nearly tripping over his words in his haste to get them out. "I knew you in your last life! You were my-" Family is the word that his inner Aki summons just enough strength to muffle- "friend! And I'm here to take you back home."

Power makes an affronted noise, and Denji can practically feel Aki's hand smacking the back of his head. "As if I would befriend some pitiful human!" She raises a paw to swipe at the air just above Denji's head. It takes all of his restraint to keep from flinching. That restraint isn't able to keep some of the hopeful warmth inside him from being replaced by cold dread. "I tire of your nonsense. Begone before I decide I'm hungry."

As it turns out, Denji's not very good at shutting out the Aki-voice. It's getting loud again, telling him that he's going to need his full range of motion soon. Reluctantly, he slides over to the edge of the clearing, shrugs his backpack off, and sets it down at the base of a tree. His gaze never leaves Power. He walks back over to her the second that she starts to inch away.

"I'll leave if you come with me," he says.

Power's back arches ever so slightly as she shifts forward onto her tiptoes. "Fool," she growls. "What makes you think I'd have any interest in your pathetic human civilizations?"

Denji shrugs. "You liked it well enough in your last life. Besides..." For the first time in this encounter, he pauses to consider what he's about to say. The Aki-voice is quiet. He takes that as a sign to continue. "You can't stay here."

"Lies!" Power exclaims. "I'll go wherever I want and no one will stop me!"

Suddenly, Denji feels cold despite the sun beating down on him. All of the bright feelings he had been drowning in only moments ago are fading fast, replaced by something heavy and strained. He can't stop it from reaching his voice when he says, "Public Safety will."

Power pauses, then falls back onto flat feet. "Public Safety?"

"Yeah." Denji swallows. The lump in his throat stays put. "They kill devils and fiends that cause too much trouble. And I don't know if you've noticed, but you've caused a lot of trouble for the people in that village."

Power is quiet for a moment.

For a moment, Denji allows himself to think that maybe he got through to her, that maybe the rest of this will go easily.

Then Power laughs.

"As if some measly humans could kill the almighty Po- Blood Devil! I'll drink their blood and scatter their remains so that no one dares impede on my territory again!"

"They aren't just humans!" Denji moves forward. He only stops when he's a few feet away from Power and she arches her back again. "Public Safety has devils contracted with them and fiends working with them. They captured you once before, and that was because they thought they could use you. They'll just kill you this time."

"Stop lying to me!"

"I'm not lying!"

"Preposterous! Your nonsense cannot be anything but!"

"Power-"

"SILENCE!"

A massive paw sweeps forward, daggers of blood springing forward from already sharp claws. Denji jumps back, but isn't quick enough to keep the weapons from tearing through his shirt and cutting thin lines across his chest.

It stings.

That isn't why he winces.

When he looks up at Power, she has puffed herself up to her full, looming height and is glaring down at him imperiously. "I'm not going to sit here and let some human tell me what to do. Leave now if you wish to live."

Denji raises his hand to his chest. He can feel hot, sticky blood against his fingers.

More importantly, he can feel his chord through one of the cuts on his shirt.

He doesn’t want to hurt Power.

There are two things she reliably responded to when she wasn't willing to listen: bribes and displays of power. But if she isn't willing to believe him, then he doesn't have anything to offer her.

He can think of few things worse than fighting Power, but there are some.

Her being put down by public safety in one of them.

Denji smiles sadly. "Well, I'm not just some human."

He pulls the chord.

Chainsaws erupt from Denji's head and arms. For an instant, the pain is blinding. He instinctively digs his heels into the group to keep himself from staggering. It disappears as quickly as it arrives. After a few quick blinks, he focuses back in on Power, who's staring at him and-

Huh. So that's what befuddlement looks like on a giant blood-devil-cat thing. Good to know.

Power lifts a paw and points a toe at Denji. "What trickery is this!?" she howls. A lance of blood shoots off her toe. Denji raises his arm and saws the end off before it can impale him, but the force of the blow still sends him staggering back a few paces.

"It ain't a trick!" Denji cries.

"Lies!" come Power's shrieking response. With a wave of her paw, she sends a barrage of blood shards his way. Denji lets out a curse and drops down to his knees, arms braced over himself like a shield. A faint cry escapes his lips as shards of hardened blood embed themselves in his arms. They aren't able to get far, but it still fucking hurts.

"I haven't said a single lie since I got here!" Denji has to yell to be heard over the roaring of his chainsaws. He unfolds his arms and forces himself back to his feet.

"Liar! You lied about being human!" Power shouts back. There are no new blood attacks, but the way she's raking a paw through the ground reminds Denji too much of a bull preparing to charge for comfort.

He prepares himself to move even as he waves a chainsaw-clad arm at Power and yells, "Didn't! You assumed I'm human! And I am! I'm just... special!"

"Nu-uh! I've seen special humans, they have colorful heads and fancy beasts and make weird sounds! They don't do that!"

"Since when are you a human expert!?"

Power lowers herself closer to the ground, haunches wiggling. "I'm an everything expert!"

Denji pulls a step back and crouches down slightly. "Well then, you should know that humans can do that if they have a devil heart!"

"I'll eat your heart!" Power roars.

They move in the same instant. Power lunges forward and so does Denji, leaping up just before her gaping maw can snap shut on his body.

Power lets out a shrill screech when his feet touch down on her head. "Getoffgetoffgetoff!" she wails, shaking her head frantically.

Denji lurches abruptly to the side, but catches his foot on the side of her neck. "Nah, I think I'll stay right here until you're ready to talk!" he exclaims. With jerky motions, he races down to balance on her shoulder blades, fisting one hand in her mane when she starts shaking even harder. He winces as his whirling blades tear out chunks of hair. One wrong move from either of them and he'll actually hurt her.

Fuck. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all.

"I don't wanna talk to you!" Power wails.

"Too bad! If you won't talk, then I'll-"

Before he can say drag you home, Aki's voice cuts through his mind. Then what? it asks.

He wins his fight with Power and takes home an angry Blood Devil who wants nothing more than to tear him apart. Then what? How does he get her into his house without grabbing Public Safety's attention? If they catch them, how will he get Power to behave well enough for them to leave them alone if she isn't willing to listen to him? How will he explain it to Nayuta?

How will Power treat Nayuta?

How can he keep her safe?

Denji has already vowed to do everything he can to get Power back. It's only as he clings to her back, engaged in a battle that might not have any good outcome after all, that he realizes that he can't do some of the things that he used to.

He's going to do everything in his power to uphold his contract. He wants to get his sister back more than anything he's ever wanted before.

But he can't put Nayuta in danger.

Denji falls still as this horrible epiphany of responsibility wracks his fragile body. He's forced back into motion by the sudden sensation of Power's body tilting sideways. "Woah!" he cries, leaping off Power's back and scurrying a few feet away less than a second before she rolls over.

"Gotcha!" Power cries, wriggling against the ground and batting her front paws against the air. "That's what you get for tormenting the almighty-"

"Power," Denji calls.

She turns her head to stare at him. There's a moment where they stare at each other, him uncertain where to go from here and her visibly failing to comprehend that he isn't crushed beneath her back. It's broken when she lets out an angry growl and scrambles upright. She rises onto her toes again, pulls her lips back, and slowly, slowly... begins inching toward the trees behind her.

"Are you going to run?" Denji asks.

"As if I would partake in such cowardice!" she declares, still inching toward the treeline. Yeah, she's definitely going to bolt. "If it's a fight you want, it's a fight you shall get! I'll-"

"I don't want a fight!" Denji exclaims.

"...Huh?" Power's arched back relaxes somewhat as she tilts her head to the side. "T'was you who attacked me, though?"

Denji's eye twitches. "No! You-"

Power takes another step back as Denji points at her, chainsaws still whirling.

Slowly, deliberately, he lowers his arm. He takes in a deep breath, and Chainsaw Man disappeared, leaving a defeated young man with slumped shoulders and tired eyes. "I don't want to fight you," he says, equal parts promise and plea. "I just want-"

"I don't care what you want," Power interrupts. "Leave me alone before I decide not to show you mercy after all."

No, Denji wants to say. I came here to keep my promise and I'm not leaving until we're friends again.

But even with a face so inhuman, he can recognize when Power's letting her stubbornness get the better of her.

Aki knew how to handle her when she got like this. He would probably be able to fix this. But Denji? His answer was always to fight her. Neither of them were big thinkers, but they could solve most of their problems with brute force. There is no fighting his way through this though.

You can't force someone to love you.

There are only a few shallow scratches on Denji's arms and chest. If he couldn't see that, he'd think they are gaping holes.

"If I leave, will you leave the town alone?" he asks.

Power sniffs, gaze wandering between Denji and the patch of trees that leads to the town. "Why would I do that?"

"Because it isn't... a good look for the Blood Devil to prey on some pitiful humans, is it? You're better than that."

Power hesitates. For a moment, he thinks that his play is going to work. Then she scoffs. "Feeding on humans is what devils do. My enemies would think you weak if I abandoned it."

"They'd think you're weaker for killing a cow than if you killed a bear?" Denji asks, desperation leaking into his voice.

"Yes!" Power cries. "No! I-" She shakes her head and re-focuses on Denji with a glare. "You don't care if I look weak," she accuses. "You're just some fool who cares about those stupid humans."

"No, I'm a fool who cares about you," Denji snaps.

Power takes a shuffling step back. Denji tenses up, waiting for her to bolt, charge, or do some other horrible, unpredictable thing.

Instead, there is an uncertain note in her voice as she asks, "Why?"

"Because I want to be your friend," Denji says. "Power-"

He takes a step forward.

She takes a step back.

He steps backward with a sigh. "Please, just... leave them be for a few days. I promise I'll make it worth your time."

Power tosses her head with a huff. "What could you possibly do to appease me."

I don't have a fucking clue.

"Just wait and see."

"And if I don't want to see you again?"

Denji tries to swallow. "Then I guess I'll have to change your mind."

Power stares at him for a long moment before slowly sitting down. "You're annoying," she declares with an air of casual confidence that doesn't reach her tense body language. "Go now, and maybe I won't eat you if you're foolish enough to show your face again."

"...Okay," Denji says. Slowly, he makes his way over to the edge of the clearing and stoops down to pick up his backpack. The motion sends a dull ache through his body. It's nothing compared to what he feels in his heart when he pauses to give the Blood Devil one last look.

"See you later, Power," he murmurs.

I'm not giving up on you.

*

The farmer stands leaning against his fence when Denji emerges from the woods. A fresh wave of exhaustion overtakes him at the sight. He pushes it down, along with everything else that he can't afford to feel until he gets home, and plasters a smile across his face. 

"You survived, huh?" the farmer says with a grunt. 

Denji walks over to lean against the fence beside him. This portion is stable enough to take his weight without wobbling. He's hyper-aware of the man's eyes raking him up and down, taking in his wounds. He doesn't want to see it, so he tilts his head back and stares up at the sky. The light is already starting to fade. 

"Told ya I'd take care of it," he says. 

"Did you?" the farmer asks. Denji knows he isn't questioning his memory. 

Denji squints, but isn't able to spot any stars. He keeps looking as he squints. "She shouldn't bother you anymore," he says. 

He isn't quite naive enough to think that'll be the end of it. It doesn't stop his spirits from sinking a little lower into the ground when the farmer asks, "And how d'you know that?"

I don't. I can't. I don't know what I'm doing. But-

"Because I made a promise," Denji says. "I'm going to keep coming back. As many times as it takes to finish what I started."

The farmer hums. Denji tenses, his gaze shifting from the sky to the tree line. He expects to hear something about how it's not good enough, how he wants the Blood Devil gone now , how he wants her dead. His hands ache as he tightens his grip on the fence. His stomach turns as he prepares to fall on his knees and beg for more time. It all falters when the farmer instead says, "What I don't get is why a boy who ain't public safety is risking his life fighting a devil like that. You'd be gunning to kill her if it were for the money."

Denji's gaze drops down to his feet. His tennis shoes are scuffed up, dirty, and stained with droplets of blood. It will take ages to clean them off. Avoiding the man's question would be easy by comparison. However, he doesn't have any real urge to clean his shoes, but he does have a horrible weight pressing down on his shoulders. He doesn't see how talking to a grumpy old man would help at all, but… 

"I used to be with Public Safety," he admits. "You know they have devils working for them?" 

The man grunts. "Heard rumors."

"Well, didya know that when devils die in hell, they're reincarnated on earth without their memories?" 

"Can't say I did."

Denji looks back up. This time, he's able to spot a single star glimmering high in the sky. "I knew the Blood Devil in her past life. We were-" Family. "-close. Before she died, I promised that I'd find her in her next life and become her friend again." It was a contract. 

The farmer is silent for a long time. Finally, he says, "Didn't know devils had friends."

"Yeah." Denji smiles sadly. "Not many do. But I think they would, if people were willing to try."

The farmer sighs heavily. "Look, kid. I feel for ya, if all this is true, but we can't just go letting this thing run around wreaking havoc."

"I know, just…" Denji turns to face the farmer. He finds his face falling into a familiar expression, a dog pleading for scraps. The shame he feels for falling back into the role so easily is nothing compared to the thought of losing Power again. "Give me more time. Talk to the rest of the townsfolk, call a meeting or whatever, tell them it's being taken care of. I promise I'll get her out of your hair. Just, please…" 

Don't kill her. 

The farmer's old, steely grey eyes bore into Denji's own. He doesn't look away, and eventually, the old man lets out a sigh. 

"I reckon I can get you until the end of the month. If it causes any more trouble after that, or anyone gets killed, it's in Public Safety's hands."

Denji exhales heavily. "Thank you," he says. "I promise you won't regret this."

The farmer grunts and nods his head. "You should be getting along now. Those cuts look nasty."

"Eh, I've had worse," Denji says. Even so, he peels himself off the fence and starts walking down the road. 

He only makes it a few steps before he pauses. "Uh… Could I get one more favor?" 

*

The farmer gives him a ride home. Denji thanks him with a smile and a wave when they pull to a stop in front of his house. He watches him drive off before turning around.

It's only a few steps from the car to the front door.

In the time it takes for him to take those steps, exhaustion comes crashing over him. His shoulders slump and his head falls when he reaches the front door. The doorknob is right in front of him, but he cannot bring himself to reach for it. He simply stands there, clueless and useless, and wonders if he'll melt into a pathetic puddle of goo if he stands there for too long. It certainly feels like he will.

Alas, goo-puddle Denji would be even more hopeless than normal Denji.

He takes in a deep breath, straightens his shoulders, lifts his head up, and opens the door. "I'm home!" he calls.

A cacophony of excited barking greets him. He barely has time to close the door before a sea of huskies surges forward to meet him. Tiramisu, Custard, and Taiyaki jostle to be in the front of the pack. It's Tiramisu who earns the right to jump up directly in Denji's face, the other two left to jostle at his sides. Normally he wouldn't mind. However, the feeling of paws pressing against his cuts leaves something to be desired.

He crouches down with a squawk. The dogs drop onto all fours in turn, eagerly reaching to lick at him while he attempts to push them away. "Okay, okay, enough," he says. A few more moments of jostling sees Custard and Tiramisu backing up to join the loose semicircle of dogs surrounding him, but Taiyaki takes that as an opportunity to shove herself right in his face, licking and wiggling excitedly.

"C'mon," Denji groans as he feebly allows himself to be shoved against the door as Taiyaki crawls into his lap. He reluctantly runs a hand through red and white fur as he mutters, "It's not like you don't see may every day."

Truly, Denji's return shouldn't be that exciting of an event. The other dogs are dispersing now, leaving only Custard, who has sat down a few feet away, the giant ball of energy in his lap, and the little girl standing in the doorway.

Denji sends Nayuta a pleading look.

She meets it with a frown.

"Are you okay?" she softly. She pads over to him, hooks her fingers around Taiyaki's collar, and pulls the wriggling husky back.

"Yeah," Denji grunts, pushing at Taiyaki to make Nayuta's job easier. Once it's only her front paws scrambling at him excitedly, he staggers back to his fight.

Nayuta lets Taiyaki though. She runs off into the other room, Custard tearing after her. Denji stares after them for a moment, but when he looks down, Nayuta's attention is glued to him. The disbelief on her features couldn't be more apparent. Her ringed amber eyes seem to bore right through him, just like when M-

Denji swallows. "What?" he asks.

"You're hurt," Nayuta whispers, raising a hand to brush her fingers just below his shoulder, where one of the cuts Power gave him is still bleeding sluggishly.

"Not badly," Denji defends.

Nayuta's expression settles into stubborn determination. "Hurt still isn't okay," she insists, and suddenly she's nothing like Makima. Makima never insisted on anything. She never had to. Her eyes, though similar on the surface, never glimmered with fear and concern the way Nayuta's do now. And it's pretty shitty that Denji is relieved by the sight, since one of his jobs is supposed to be making sure that she doesn't have to deal with feelings like that, but it makes it a little easier for him to breathe.

"I'll take care of it," Denji promises. He pulls his arm away from her grasp to rub at it gently. "All things considered, this went..."

Not well. There's no world where he can say that it went well. But now that he thinks about it, he supposes that it could have gone worse. He's going to get another chance to set things right, at least.

"...I'm going to figure it out," he lamely finishes.

"What are you going to figure out?" Nayuta asks.

Denji frowns. He looks down at Nayuta, who meets his gaze shamelessly. "You said you'd tell me what's going on when you got back," she reminds him.

"I did, didn't I," Denji sighs. "Let me patch myself up, then I'll explain, okay?"

It takes a moment for Nayuta to respond. As she stares up at him, anxiety and curiosity dominating her features in equal measure, he worries that she might try to get him to spill everything right then and there. However, she eventually nods and scampers off into the other room without another word.

Denji heaves a sigh and drags himself into the bathroom.

He makes quick work of showering, patching himself up, and changing into his pajamas. The entire time, he's thinking about how he's going to explain this situation to Nayuta. By the time he's done, he thinks he has an idea of what he's going to do. It isn't a perfect plan by any means. Talking about Power at all means that he's going to be navigating a minefield no matter what. But he thinks he knows roughly where to step to avoid setting off any bombs, and that's about all he can ask for.

Nayuta's waiting for him in the bedroom. She's sitting in the center of the futon, Mochi pressed up behind her and Nyako curled up in her lap. A small smile touches her lips as she pets the cat.

For some reason, the sight reminds Denji that he needs to do something for dinner.

Ugh. Cooking sounds absolutely horrible right now. He pushes aside the little voice telling him that Aki would have planned ahead for this as he calls out, "You wanna order in tonight?"

Nayuta looks up. She blinks once before tentatively asking, "Can we get fried chicken?"

Sure! Denji almost says. He catches himself just in time to grumble, "That's not very healthy."

"Do you wanna be healthy?"

Denji sighs and lays down on the futon. There's the sound of claws tapping against the floor, and suddenly there's a furry body pressing against him and Custard's head resting on his chest. He raises a hand to rub his ears before grumbling, "That's not the point. I'm supposed to make sure you're healthy."

"Well... maybe we can be unhealthy tonight?" Nayuta tentatively asks.

She says that like it's just tonight. As if, for all of his half-disastrous attempts at cooking, Denji doesn't end up giving her takeout for a solid portion of her meals. He tries to get healthy stuff when he orders, but he doesn't think he's doing a very good job of it. He doesn't... he doesn't know what he's doing.

Aki tried to teach him about this stuff. He should have paid attention when he had the chance.

"Denji?"

"Did you know that you aren't my first family?" he asks.

Nayuta goes very quiet. Denji looks her way and finds her staring very intently at Nyako. He opens his mouth, about to nudge her to respond, but second-guesses himself at the last second. For a little over a minute, the only sound in the room is the panting of the dogs and Nyako's purring.

"Kishibe said you lost people," Nayuta whispers. "I didn't know they were..."

"I probably should have told you sooner," Denji admits. "It's not easy to talk about."

That's an understatement. He's barely said anything and his heart already feels like it's about to claw its way out of his chest. Yet now that he's started, he doesn't think that he can bring himself to stop. Not that it matters anyway. Nayuta deserves to know.

"Who were they?" Nayuta asks after a moment.

Denji's throat is growing tight. "Aki and Power," he chokes out. "They were... none of us were related by blood, I don't have any family like that, but... they were my siblings.

"Aki had the biggest stick up his butt of anyone I've ever met. He was a grumpy stuck-up who never knew to relax. And he... he cared about people a lot. He looked out for me and Power when he didn't know how to look out for ourselves. He's..."

The sound of wild laughter flashes through Denji's mind, paired with the image of Aki warped into the thing he had hated most. In his final moments, he had sounded happier than he'd ever heard him before. Does that mean that he didn't suffer? That he didn't realize what he had become? He hopes so; he hopes that Aki never realized that he had become the thing he hated most.

He hopes that he doesn't know how Denji failed him.

"He's in a better place now," he forces himself to finish. Denji doesn't know if it's true, doesn't know if he believes in god or heaven, but he hopes. For Aki's sake, he hopes.

Denji pauses to catch his breath for a moment. Then he plows on, because for all that he feels some of the pressure disappearing from his chest as he speaks, there's a tightness to his throat and stinging in his eyes that tells him that he might not be able to start again if he stops. "Power was a lot of fun," he says. "A lot of trouble, too. She was just... a lot. Sometimes too much, but... she made my life better."

"You miss her.”

"Yeah," Denji says. "But it's okay, 'cause you know what?"

"What?"

Denji rolls onto his side to face Nayuta. Custard lets out a discontented grumble as he's displaced, then presses up against his back. "Power was a devil, and before she died, I made a promise that before she died, I promised that I'd become her friend in her next life and remind her who she is."

Nayuta nods solemnly. "Is she who you were visiting today?"

"Bingo," Denji says. "She came back a little while ago, and she doesn't remember me, but... I'm gonna get through to her."

"She hurt you.”

Denji shrugs. "Could've been a lot worse. I think I scared her, honestly."

Nayuta doesn't look convinced. The sight makes Denji's heart sink. He sits up on his knees and leans forward to cup Nayuta's cheek. She peers up at him with wide, pensive eyes.

"Please don't blame her," he says. "The situation is... complicated. But I promise she's a good person."

Nayuta hesitates, then offers a tentative nod. "Will I get to meet her?" she asks.

"Eventually," Denji says. Hopefully.

Denji drops his arm down to his side. Nayuta stares at him, her expression made intense with thought. He can't for the life of him tell what she's thinking. Naturally, his mind jumps to the worst possible options.

Don't ask how they died, he wordlessly begs. Don't ask if I knew you. Please, don't ask about her.

"What are you going to do next?" Nayuta asks.

Denji refrains from letting out an audible sigh of relief, but only barely. "I think... I'm going to go camping."

Chapter Text

Denji talks Kishibe into looking after Nayuta and the dogs for the week. It's easier than he'd expected, actually. The old man is out of town, but after about an hour of wheedling, worming, and outright begging, he convinces him to drop what he's doing and head over so that Denji can set out on his quest.

And if he suspects that it only works because the old man holds a bigger soft spot for Power than he lets on?

Well, Denji's grateful enough not to call him out on it this time.

He sets out before the sun has even risen. His first stop is the grocery store. It's a quick visit, since even though it's a pretty large haul, he already knows exactly what he's getting. Once his arms are laden with grocery bags, he goes back home, slips his massive, bulky black bag of supplies onto the back, and straps it on. Then, with the first rays of morning light peeking over the horizon, he heads out for real.

There is no sense of anonymity when he steps onto the bus this time. It seems like everyone who can look at him is looking at him. He supposes he can understand why. His supplies actually aren't that much considering the fact that he's going to be living in the forest for the next week. Even so, he thinks that he used to be able to get by with even less.

No, he definitely used to be able to get by with even less. Fucking Aki spoiled him, and he was so excited about it that he didn't even realize what was happening until it was too late.

He has no regrets. Not where his increased standards of living are concerned, anyway. Knowing what luxury feels like just means that he'll have better ideas for how to get Power to stop living in the forest like some sort of gremlin.

The bus ride is uncomfortable with his load. The walk through town is worse. There are several points where Denji considers chainsawing out just to get through faster. He doesn't, but man the thought is tempting.

His back aches, sweat is dripping down his forehead, and his arms feel like they're made of rubber by the time he reaches the edge of town. It's with a wave of relief that he passes by the farmer's house and notes that the old man is nowhere to be seen. The old man isn't that bad - he owes him one for hearing him out about Power, and it would have been a pain in the ass to have to bus all the way back home - but he really doesn't feel like explaining his plan to him. Laying it out to Kishibe was enough of his hassle. And Power...

Well, it doesn't matter what Power thinks, does it? It'll make things harder for him if she decides to kick up a fuss, but he isn't about to let it stop him. She wouldn't be Power if she made things easy for him. He's prepared.

...He hopes that she doesn't make things too hard though.

Slogging through the forest with a giant pack strapped to his back and several bags of groceries is even harder than walking through down, because of course it is. He knows that groaning while potentially within earshot of Power is a bad idea, but he can't help it. About halfway down the trail, he starts groaning.

He's a few yards away from the clearing when an incredulous voice demands, "Are you dying?"

It's a testament to how exhausting this trek has been that Denji managed to miss the approach of a fuck-off big Blood Devil. He turns around to find Power peering at him. She's crouched down, body twisted somewhat awkwardly to fit amongst the trees, with her head extended toward him like a cat investigating a curious morsel. Her nose is even twitching.

"Nah," Denji grunts. "Wouldn't want to make you cry like that."

Power draws herself up with a disgusted horking noise. "The great Power never cries! Especially not over one as measly as yourself!" she cries.

Denji blinks, his eyes prickling. He opens his mouth, but snaps it shut a second later.

"I dunno," he says after a beat. "I don't think you ever know who you'd cry over until you've lost 'em."

Another scoff from Power. "I'd never cry, for none would ever dare to touch that which is mine."  She pauses, eyes narrowing at Denji appraisingly. "Which you aren't."

Denji hums, setting the grocery bags down by his feet. "Sucks for you."

Power lets out an affronted squawk. "That isn't- You aren't mine because I haven't deigned to make you so! I have no use for a liar who didn't even heed my warning."

Denji pauses in the middle of unstrapping his supply pack, brow furrowing. "Warning?" he asked.

"I warned you not to come back," Power says, rising to her feet.

"No, you didn't," Denji says, frowning. "Well, I mean - you did, but I told you I'd be back."

"Wrong! You cowered before me, begged for mercy, and vowed to never return!"

"That did not happen."

"Did! And now you will face the unholy consequences!"

Power stalks forward. Under other circumstances, Denji would be feeling the bottom of his stomach drop out and dreading the suddenly inevitable prospect of a fight. Fortunately, he came prepared.

"Alright," he sighs, strapping his pack back up and bending down to pick up the bags. "I guess that means I'll need to eat all these snacks by myself."

Power stops, ears perking up. "Snacks?"

"Yeah. I figured that if we were gonna hang, I might as well pay tribute and all that, but if you want me gone-"

"W-Wait!" Power stammers. "I... might have been a little hasty."

"Really?" Denji fights back a grin as he cocks his head to the sight. "I didn't think that the great and incredible Power was capable of such a thing."

"Of course not!" she exclaims. Her head almost peeks over the trees when she sits down on her haunches. She draws her paws close together and places them in front of her in a way that might look dignified if he didn't know her. "T'was a test! And you passed! Your prize is the opportunity to present your offerings and bask in my presence for as long as I tolerate it."

"Right." Denji isn't able to stop himself from grinning this time. Power gives him an odd look, but doesn't comment on it. "Well, before all that, what's the best place to set up camp?"

Power tilts her head to the side. "Camp?"

"Yeah, camp. You might be happy to let yourself get rained on and shit, but we humans have higher standards."

"I don't subject myself to the rain. I-" Power cuts off her protest to point an accusing toe at Denji. He has to fight back and snicker when he notices that it has a cutesy little paw-pad attached. "I won't be tricked into revealing my hideouts!"

"I don't need to know about your hideouts," Denji assures her. "I just need a good spot to get myself set up."

"A true creature of the forest has no need for stuff."

"Why the fuck would I want to be a creature of the forest? Sounds like a lot of work. Besides." Denji crosses his arms, grocery bags sliding down to the crook of his elbows, and shoots Power a smug look. "You'd like having stuff if you knew what it was like."

He knows that for a fact.

Power sniffs. "I am above such human trappings. You would be too, if you weren't such a sorry excuse for a devil."

"Yeah, that's 'cause I'm not actually a devil."

"You expect me to believe that? I saw you shift your form!"

"I already told you, that's 'cause I-" Denji heaves a sigh and rolls his eyes skyward. It makes it easier to ignore the pressure that's building in the back of his throat. "Do you actually want the full story?"

Power pretends to consider it for all of two seconds. "I want my promised tribute."

"Well, I want to sit down." Denji turns his gaze back to Power. "So, how about you show me a good place to settle down, and I show you what I got you?"

Oh. He sounds like Aki.

Not that Power realizes that.

Denji blinks a few times. Meanwhile, Power jumps to her feet and turns around. "Deal!" she cries. "Follow me, interloper."

"Denji," he says.

"Huh?"

"My name is Denji."

"Boring. I recently decided that my name is Power!"

I know.

*

It should have taken Denji a long time to get set up. It would have if he put the time and effort into the process that it deserves. The presence of Power stalking back and forth behind him keeps him from doing that. He doesn't think she'll mess with him if she gets too impatient- well, actually, no, scratch that. She'll definitely do something to mess with him if she gets too impatient. It isn't a frightening prospect, but it's still a pain in the butt that he'd like to avoid if at all possible.

Power is a pain in the butt. She didn't even take him to a good camping spot. After all the fuss she made, she just brought him into the clearing where they fought and told him to set himself up under a particularly big pine tree at the edge. The worst part is that he can't tell if she genuinely thinks this is the best camping spot or is just too much of a lazy lump to take him somewhere else.

God, he missed her.

After about an hour, he has a black tarp set up in a makeshift lean-to with his bedding, water, two grocery bags, and an emergency first-aid kit set out beneath it. When he steps back to survey his work, he finds it... shitty. Really fucking shitty. He did his best to nail the tarp to the tree and stake it to the ground, but it still looks like it could blow away with the first strong wind. It's sagging in places and pulled dangerously tight in others. When he looks closely, he thinks he can see some holes in the tarp.

Maybe he should have taken the extra time to buy an actual tent.

Ah well, too late now. At least it's only for a week. He can handle a week. If anything, it'll be like being back in his old hut, except with Power instead of Pochita and no Yakuza breathing down his neck.

...He hopes it's like that. That would be really nice.

"You're taking forever," Power groans from behind him. He feels the vibrations running from the ground as much as he hears it when she flops dramatically down on the ground.

Denji gives a snort of laughter as he turns around, hands planted on his hips. "I don't think you know what forever is," he says.

"I know better than you," Power retorts.

"So says you," he says.

She grumbles something in response. As she does, Denji walks behind the tree to grab the bags he's snatched there. He has to admit, he's a little impressed that she didn't try to steal the snacks while he was getting set up. He's sure that she considered it, but she didn't actually go through with it, and that's what counts. Whether it was because she's genuinely being well-behaved or is more scared of him doesn't matter to him.

...Okay, maybe it matters a little bit. He doesn't want Power to be scared of him. But he doesn't want to think about that right now, so he won't.

Power's scrambling to her feet the second he steps back into the clearing, arms laden with bags. "Yes!" she cries, shoving her snout at the goods. "Give me the-"

"Hold on!" Denji cries, taking a step back. "You won't be able to taste anything if you eat it all at once!"

Power's ears flick back against her skull. "I will taste everything," she haughtily corrects him.

"Yeah, maybe, but it won't taste the way it's supposed to taste, and it'll be all muddled up with plastic and shit." Denji pulls the bags close to his chest and shoots her a serious, commanding look. "These are human snacks. I'm the one who knows about how human stuff works. So sit down and let me show you how it's done."

For one despairing moment, he thinks that Power might argue. More than thinks, actually. He's fully prepared for this to turn into a big hoopla that will turn into a bunch more bickering before he can show her what he brought her.

But Power only stares him down for a few seconds. Then she sits down on her haunches, crosses her arms, and lets out a huff. "I am sitting."

Denji's jaw goes slack. He feels both confusion and relief, but for some reason, all he can think is that maybe he shouldn't be calling Power's paws "paws" after all. The toe beans, muzzle, mane, ears, tail, and general body language keep making him think 'cat', but as he looks at where her maybe-paws rest against her arms, he realizes that they look like... not quite people hands, but something close. Raccoon hands.

Power uncrosses her arms. "Denji?"

"Right," he says. It comes out as half a gasp, and he tries not to pay too much attention to how it felt to hear his name in her voice again as he reaches into one of the bags. After a little bit of rifling about, he comes out with a sizeable bun in his hand.

It's not anything fancy, just a basic red bean bun. For a moment, he can't help but wish that it was. Denji would probably leave more of an impression if he had walked in with gourmet desserts. He pushes down the anxiety that threatens to surface by reminding himself that this is Power. She didn't know what "gourmet" met in her past life - neither of them did. She certainly isn't going to complain about the quality of a pastry now that her memory's been wiped clean.

Carefully, Denji lowers the bags to the ground and peels open the bun's translucent wrapping. As he works on it, Power stares at him intensely, haunches wiggling.

"Alright," he slowly says, "This here's a bean bun. Let me know what you thi-"

Denji is still extending his arm from Power lurches forward and snags the bun out of his hand. He has to let go and yank his hand back to avoid having the tips of his fingers bitten off. "Oi! Watch it!" he barks.

Power tilts her head back and swallows the bun in without even chewing. A second later, she tilts her head to the side, disappointment all but radiating off of her. "That's it?"

"It is if you don't chew it," Denji grouses. "You can only taste the bread when you do that."

"Bread's boring."

"First of all, you can fuck right off, bread is fantastic. Secondly..." Denji crouches down to pull a second bean bun out of one of the bags. Power's really lucky that he figured she'd want more than one. He almost hopes that it doesn't take too long for her to start being grateful, but he knows better than to expect that to ever happen. "You missed the best part. Here."

Standing up back up, Denji makes quick work of the bun's wrapper, before tearing it open to reveal its red insides.

Power leans in with a gasp. "'Tis filled with congealed blood!"

Suddenly, all Denji can see is himself and Power racing through a combine, an aggravated Aki yelling at them not to make trouble. Denji had started grabbing pastries off the shelf without bothering to ask if they could get anything. Power was going on about some nonsense, so he threw one at her. She tore it open, let out a dramatic gasp, and cried, "'Tis filled with- "

Denji shakes his head and snorts. "It's bean paste, you weirdo." He moves to hold the bun out to Power, only to tug his hand back at the last second. "Open your mouth."

Power tilts her head to the side, but obliges him. Denji allows himself to grin at the sight of the Blood Devil crouching there with her mouth open, like the world's most fucked up baby bird, before tossing the bun into her waiting maw. Her jaws close around it with a snap.

This time, she actually takes a moment to chew.

"Oooh!" she exclaims. "Bread is much better this way! Another!"

"Bread's always good," Denji corrects. "You're just a picky eater."

"I have good taste."

"You have weird taste."

"I do not!"

"Yeah, sure." Denji crouches down to root through the bags once more. "You know who judges food based on how much it looks like blood?"

"Smart people."

"Weird people." Denji closes his hand around a taiyaki package and stands back up. Power's mouth is open to protest. Before she gets the chance, he starts opening the package and warns, "Don't eat this one in one bite either. I'm going to pass it to you - don't bite my hand off."

Power's maw twists into a frown. "You talk as if I can't follow simple instructions," she grumbles.

Denji snorts. "Yeah, well, you don't seem like the sort of person who likes getting instructions."

"Neither do you!"

"Aah... You've got me there."

Denji drops the taiyaki wrapper to the ground and holds the fish-shaped pastry out to Power. To her credit, she listens this time, snatching it with one of her creepy little raccoon hands rather than her teeth. She leans back on her haunches as she holds it up to her face, sniffing it a few times before taking a tentative nibble of its head. Her eyes light up when red bean paste comes oozing out.

"More of the- the substance!" she cries. A second later, she shoves the rest of the taiyaki in her mouth.

Ah well. Technically it was more than one bite. She even chewed this time!

"Bean paste," Denji corrects, unable to stop himself from grinning. It would be a lie to say that his reaction hadn't been similar the first time he had taiyaki, but she doesn't need to know that.

Power narrows her eyes at him suspiciously. "Why do you insist that it is beans?" she demands. "Beans taste nothing like this."

Denji blinks. "You've had beans? Like, you ate a vegetable? Willingly!?"

Power drops her front paw-hand-things to the ground and squirms awkwardly. It only lasts for a few seconds before she tilts her head up imperiously and says, "Some humans left their things behind, and I accepted it as a rightful offering. The fault is their's for leaving such refuse."

Denji chuckles. "Right. Well, these are beans that've been baked for a super long time with sugar. That's why they taste different."

Power tilts her head to the side. "What's sugar?"

"A magical human thing that you don't get out in the forest."

"You brought more, right?"

"Oh, yeah. I'm pretty sure all this stuff is loaded with it."

"It is acceptable. Give me more."

"Acceptable," Denji scoffs. "Please. You think it's great."

Power huffs. "I'm sure you've brought the very best that humanity has to offer in your pitiful attempt to win my favor."

"Nah, I just brought what you liked before."

Power goes stiff. She slides a few inches back as she asks, "...Before?"

"Yeah, in your past life," Denji says, the truth slipping past his lips before he has a chance to think.

It's the wrong person. If he were A- if he were a different person, less impulsive, more thoughtful, more serious, he might have realized that it's the wrong thing to say before he said it. As it stands, he's hit by a bolt of panicked regret when Power rises to her feet.

"I tire of your presence," she announces.

"Wait," Denji scrambles. "Sorry, I didn't mean to-"

Do what? What didn't he mean to do? He definitely wanted to remind Power of her past life. He just wanted to do it in a way that wouldn't make her react badly. Denji doesn't know how to say that though, and Power's turned around and started galloping away before he gets the chance to try.

She pauses when she reaches the treeline. "Keep the offerings," she calls over her shoulder. "I shall return for the rest later."

And then she's gone.

*

Power doesn't come back that night.

Or the next morning.

Or the following day.

Denji wanted to run after her the second she disappeared into the trees. That urge grows stronger with each passing hour. It's the Aki-voice in the back of his head that holds him back. It warns him chasing after Power might only drive them further back.

Denji tells him that that's nonsense; he doesn't even know what set her off, there's no way for him to know that going after her will make it worse. She might be touched by him caring enough to go after her.

The imaginary Aki points out that he knows enough to know that won't really happen. Power was fine until he mentioned her past life. She's clearly sensitive about it for some reason. If he wants to stand a chance at getting her back, he needs to choose his words more carefully and wait for her to come to him.

So Denji accepts that he's lost an argument with a memory and stays in the clearing, eating his supplies when he gets hungry, watching the clouds, go by, and spends an entire day waiting for Power to return.

It's one of the loneliest days of his life.

Through it all, he tries to tell himself that Power will be back. She liked the snacks, for one thing. She won't stay away for too long when she knows that there are more tasty treats for one thing. For another, she's got to be curious. Sure, she's a bit of a coward, and their fight and him talking about her past might have given her a few reasons to stay away from him, but it won't outweigh her curiosity. It won't. It can't.

She has to come back.

Eventually, the sky grows dark. Stars flicker into view and light up the night sky. It's with an indescribable weight in his chest that Denji sets about getting a bonfire going. The lighter he packed is weak, cheap, and generally shitty. It takes a few tries to get the flames to start eating into the pile of logs he's assembled, but eventually, he gets there.

The fire has just started roaring in earnest when there's a rustling in the trees.

Denji jumps to his feet, heart in his throat.

Power stalks into the clearing with her head held high and tail twitching ever so slightly. She barely even looks at Denji as she sits down beside the fire.

A hundred questions race through Denji's mind. What happened, why did you leave, where were you, why won't you make this easy, can't you see that I love you -

Be careful, Aki whispers.

Denji sits back down. "Welcome back," he croaks, staring into the dancing flames of the fire. "Do you want the rest of the snacks?"

"Of course," Power says. She doesn't look at him either. "I said I would be back for them, didn't I?"

Denji chuckles. It grates at his throat, but he does it anyway, trying for some levity. God, he has to try. "You did," he concedes.

With that, he stands up and walks over to his lean-to, where he's stashed the grocery bags. He starts to head back to his old spot, only to hesitate at the last second. Slowly, he approaches Power. "Hey, uh..."

She looks up at him, and he rubs the back of his head. "It'll be pretty awkward if I have to hand them to you across the fire, so..."

Power spends a moment considering his unspoken words. Eventually, she nods. "I guess I can let you sit with me."

Denji manages a weak smile. "Thanks."

The rest of the night is spent in near-total silence. Denji sits down beside Power and passes her treats as they gaze into the fire. Sometimes she'll say something about one of the snacks, and he'll offer a response, but nothing meaningful is said. Eventually, the snacks run out, the fire dies down, and Denji offers a quiet goodnight before going to bed.

He wakes up to find Power fast asleep on the other side of the clearing.

*

He tries not to wake Power as he putters about his morning. It's more of a test of willpower than anything else. Sitting in his tent and eating a tin of salted fish while watching birds bounce about in the branch of a tree on the other side of the clearing doesn't exactly make a lot of noise. Most boring things don't - and this is very boring.

Which is exactly the problem. The temptation to wake Power up gnaws at the back of his mind like some sort of rat. The day will become much more exciting the moment she's awake. He'll be able to start making progress once she's awake. Unfortunately, Power didn't wake up easily when she was a fiend who knew and loved him. He knows better than to try her as a real Blood Devil who only tolerates him.

So he sits he waits. And finally, when the sun is hanging high in the sky and the watch on his wrist reads 11:40, he hears a grumble from the other side of the clearing. Power moves as if she's going to stand up, rising a few inches off the ground, only to flop back down a few seconds later. She lazily rolls over. Her gaze wandered around the clearing for a moment before landing on Denji, staring at him blankly.

Denji stares back.

"...What are you doing?" she asks after a moment.

Denji forces himself to take a moment to think about it before responding. It doesn't take a lot of thought - outright saying that he was waiting for her might put her off, so he shrugs and says, "Nothin'."

Power snorts. "You're boring."

"Am not!" Denji protests. " You're the one who slept all morning."

"Mornings are for sleeping," Power counters. She shifts her body so that her stomach and viscera-filled ribcage are exposed to the sunlight pouring down on them.

"Yeah, I used to think that too," Denji says. "But-"

But he really fucking sucks at this 'thinking about things before he says them' thing. And of course, Power doesn't know the direction that sentence was heading in, so she prods, "But what?"

But Aki never let him sleep in too late.

But the moment Power was awake, there was no sleeping for anyone else, and it always felt like on the rare days when Aki decided to have mercy, she was there to make herself a pest.

But he never sleeps well anyway these days. Besides, someone needs to get up early for Nayuta and the dogs. He does briefly consider telling her that part, but quickly dismisses it. He has no idea how to explain Nayuta without... he has no idea how to explain Nayuta.

In the end, Power receives another shrug and a mumbled, "Things changed. I need to wake up early now."

"Well, I don't." Power rolls over, rises to her feet, and reaches her front legs out to stretch languidly. "One of the many benefits of living far, far away from you humans."

"But you aren't far, far away," Denji says, pitching his voice up in a mimicry of hers. The act sends a jolt of anxiety through him, the fear that he may be overstepping again, but the thought of letting that go grates at him so badly that the words come tumbling out anyway. How's he supposed to get Power back if he can't talk to her the way he used to at all? "You're slumming it right outside a village, using their tractors as chew toys."

"I am a creature of the wild," Power sniffs, sitting up in a way that he thinks is supposed to be dignified. It's a display of wounded pride, sure, but it's nothing that he hasn't seen a million times before. A potential wave of relief courses through him at the sight.

"You're an ugly, oversized barn cat," Denji corrects.

Power tosses her head over her shoulder with a huff. "Spoken like a true fool who does not know the wonders of the wild." She pauses then, and Denji can practically feel an idea overtake her before she so much as looks at him. When she does, it's only for a moment. Then she jumps to her feet and declares, "I'll be right back."

"Wait!" Denji cries, lurching to his feet and stumbling out of his lean-to.

"No, you wait!" Power cries, launching herself into the trees. By the time he makes it a few feet, she's already gone, leaving only a shouted order of, "Stay right where you are!"

And then she's gone.

Again.

Denji doesn't think to stop himself from falling to his knees. Maybe it's overdramatic; she said she'd come back, and she kept her word last time. There's no reason to think that she won't this time as well.

But he only has a week - no, not even that anymore. Every moment not spent with Power is another moment where he fails to keep his promise, and they've already wasted an entire day. She said that she'd be "right back", but she's never been the best at judging time. How long will "right back" turn out to be? Another day? Two?

She's slipping right through his fingers and doesn't even realize it.

It's getting hard to breathe. Denji's throat is closing up, his eyes are prickling, and there's a terrible weight in the back of his mind, threatening to come crashing down on him and bury him alive.

No. He can't afford that, not here, not now. This is the hardest mission of his life and it's barely even begun. He can't afford to break down and give up now.

Denji crams all of the junk back down into his mind. Once it's nice and sealed shut, he rises to his feet, only swaying a little, and walks back over to his lean-to. There, he lays down on the thin mat and pile of pillows that composes his bed, stares back out into the trees, and begins to wait.

And wait.

And wait.

...Fuck. He can't believe that he's thinking it, but maybe he should have brought a book with him. Even working on his kanji would be better than staring at birds for hours.

Camping sucks.

*

Seriously. Camping really, really sucks. Or at least, it does the way Denji's doing it - spending all your time waiting around for a careless gremlin who couldn't give less of a shit about you or your time.

The sun is setting by the time Power returns. She's utterly caked in dried blood. It stains her maw, covers her already gruesome chest, and tangles her mane in great, sticky clumps. This is somehow less alarming than the whole-ass bear dangling from her maw.

Power flounces over to Denji's lean-to, the very picture of pride, and drops the corpse in front of the entrance. She sits down in front of it, tail wagging, and declares, "For you!"

Denji stares.

The glossy eyes of the dead bear stare back.

Denji blinks.

The bear is still there. Its throat has been torn out. If he cut it open, he's pretty sure he would find all of its blood missing too, but that's not the point.

"What the fuck," he says.

"I tried your food, so now you have to try mine!"

"What the fuck."

Power looks at him like he's the stupidest thing she's ever seen. "I just told you what." She reaches forward to push the bear closer to him, only stopping when it's brushing against the edges of the tarp. One limp paw flops over rest right by Denji's foot. "Go on! Eat it!"

As Denji continues to stare dully at the bear, he reaches for the Aki voice, looking for some sort of guidance. It's dead silent. There's not a single part of Denji that knows how to handle this situation, not even a figment of his imagination.

If Aki were here, there's a real chance that he would tell Denji to eat the bear. But that's because he wasn't actually so high above his and Power's shenanigans and could, in fact, be a shit-stirring asshole sometimes, so Denji's going to... just... stop that train of thought before it goes somewhere he doesn't like.

Denji's ultimate response is to make a very dignified strangled sound, followed by a squawk of, "I can't just eat a bear, Power!"

Power tilts her head to the side. "Why not?"

"Because- I- because it's raw!"

"Coward," Power scoffs. She tugs the bear a few feet away from the lean-to and gives Denji a very unimpressed look. Which, he has to give her credit, even without a human face, she's almost as expressive as she was before. "Set one of your human fires and cook it then."

"Fire," Denji corrects, feeling a little bit like his head is spinning. "A fire is just a fire no matter who sets it, Powy."

"A clear result of your feeble human mind," Power sneers as he climbs out of the lean-to. "Any fire set by me would be grand."

"So why don't you?" Denji asks, standing up and stretching his arms out above him. "I've got a lighter. I can get it, and you can show me your majestic devil fire."

Power surreptitiously glances away. "...You have not earned a fire set by myself," she mutters.

"I see, I see." He can feel the shit-eating grin crawling across his face and doesn't do shit to try to stop it. "But you definitely know how to start a bonfire, right? You're not just lying to look cool?"

"Obviously!"

Denji drops his arms back to his side. "Well, in that case, why don't you watch me to make sure I'm doing it right?"

Power glances at him, then looks away not even a second later. "I suppose I can do that. You'll owe me for my supervision, though!"

"Sure, why not."

*

About fifteen minutes later, the sun's almost disappeared over the horizon and Denji has replenished the wood for his makeshift firepit. He's crouching over it, lighter in hand, when a potentially important thought occurs to him.

Denji glances at the giant, furry form of the dead bear before looking over at Power, who's lounging lazily beside the fire pit. "I don't suppose you know how to butcher a bear?" he asks.

Her response is a flat look and, "I have already butchered it?"

That would be a "no", then.

Denji almost sighs in defeat. Almost. Before the sound can escape his lips, he catches himself, gathers his determination, sets down the lighter, and heads over to his supplies.

What are butchers paid for? Cutting animals apart? He brought a knife with him; he can totally do that! How hard can it be to cut a bear up and cook it anyway?

*

It turns out that cutting a bear up is really fucking hard, especially once the sun goes down. Butchers aren't paid enough. Denji doesn't actually know how much butchers make, nor does he care. Whatever it is, it's not enough.

Power is mostly quiet throughout the process. She laughs at Denji's struggles at a few points, but for the most part, she's content to watch him and gnaw on discarded bits of bear.

By the time he's done wrestling with the bear carcass, bits of guts, bone and thick brown fur are scattered across the feeling. There would probably be blood too if it weren't already all smeared across Power. It almost feels worth it when he gets to jab chunks of sloppily-cut meat onto a stick. 

Then he realizes that it probably would've been easier if he'd used his chainsaws and feels like an absolute moron. It gets worse when he realizes that for all the work he put in and how large the bear was, he doesn’t have a lot of meat. It’s like. A few steaks. Which sounds impossible, until he thinks about all the fat he tossed aside, and all the nibbles he caught Power taking, and all the stuff that he didn’t know what to do with, and…

And you know what? Fuck it! He butchered the bear and that's what counts. 

Soon enough, he's sitting between Power's front legs with the stick of bear meat roasting over a fire. When it looks more or less done, he pulls it off and waves it around a bit to cool it down. Once he can safely touch it without scorching his fingerprints off, he pulls two steaks off the stick. The first is tossed upward, into Power's waiting maw. The second he lifts up to his lips to take a tentative bite.

It tastes...

It's...

" Awful !" Denji cries, pulling the steak back from his mouth and jamming it back on the stick. He scowls up at Power, who peers down at him uncertainly.

"'Awful' as in 'it's awful that you've never tasted something so great before'?" The uneasy hope in her tone makes a spark of guilt flare up in his chest. Just a spark though - he came out here to lure Power back home, not lie to her about her awful forest life.

"Awful as in it's gross," he says, waving the stick around for emphasis. "I put all that work in and it's still all fatty! It's like I'm chewing through blubber and-"

"It's not all fat!" Power protests.

"Sure, but the meat barely tastes like anything!" Denji shoots back. "It's all bland, like someone tried to hide that it's flavorless by covering it in something... Weird." He plants the meatless side of the stick in the ground and fists his hand by his side with a huff. "You should come into the city with me so I can show you what really good food tastes like."

Power stares down at him. Denji stares back, proud, defiant, and most importantly, right. She shifts her gaze to the side, considering...

And then brings her forehead down on Denji's face with a thud.

Denji tumbles backward over Power's arm with a squawk, one hand flying up to clutch his nose.

"It's not bad!" Power cries. "Apologize to the bear!"

" Fuck !" Denji exclaims, rubbing his nose. He doesn't feel any blood, so he shifts his attention to the oversized brat looming over him. Still sprawled over one of her arms, elbows bracing him against the ground, he glares up at the great and obnoxious Blood Devil. "Damn it, Powy, you could'a broken my nose."

"'Tis what you get for insulting my fine cuisine," she sniffs. "Now apologize."

"No!" Denji cries, laboriously sitting back up. "If you're gonna push your forest stuff, you've gotta accept that not everyone's gonna like it."

He expects Power to argue. Like, he can't fathom a world where she doesn't argue. Denji has his retort prepared and everything. So when she hesitates for a moment before looking away, the words evaporate in his mouth.

"...Not all of your stupid human food can be good," she grumbles.

"...No," Denji admits. "There's plenty of bad food in the city." As he flops back against her chest, just below the gore of her ribcage, a slow, hesitant smile crosses his face. His face hurts and he doesn't know what's happening, but.... maybe it's a good sign that she isn't arguing? Maybe? Maybe he can let himself hope a little bit.

It's that hope that gives him the nerve to add, "But I didn't bring you anything bad."

"Bears aren't bad!" Power insists, bringing an end to the moment of oddness and returning to tried and true behavior. "They're so big and bloody!"

"Y'know that humans don't use how much blood something has to tell if something's good, right?"

"...Yes. Of course I knew that."

"Just making sure."

Denji reaches out to the stick of gross, vile, disappointing bear meat, pulls the topmost steak back off, and resumes gnawing on it. He feels Power's muscles shift as he peers down at him. When he looks up at her, he's met with a look of befuddlement.

"What?" he asks, the question coming out muffled around the steak.

"I thought you didn't like it?" Power asks.

Denji swallows his latest mouthful of chewy, gamey meat before saying, "I don't. But I don't want it to go to waste."

"...Or maybe..." A smug smile crawls across Power's maw, revealing long, pointed teeth. Denji can't bring himself to find the sight frightening. "You don't want to admit that you were wrong and you do like it after all."

"Yeah, right," Denji scoffs. "Maybe I would've a while ago, but I have high standards these days."

"How come?"

Denji's heart falters. "...What?"

"Why are your standards higher?"

Bread with Pochita. Makima. Udon. Supertoast. Aki's insistence that he can do better. Lunch with-

"I came into the city, where they have better food."

"You lived in the forest before?"

"No, I... Well... Something like that."

The following silence is heavy. Or maybe that's just him. Maybe it's just the pounding of his heart, the fear that Power's going to ask him about something he doesn't know how to talk about combined with the knowledge that if he wants to get anywhere, he's going to have to talk about it eventually.

But eventually isn't now.

"Tell me about your city food," Power commands, stretching her neck out to lay her head down beside him.

Denji lets out a faint relieved breath. "Sure. I can do that."

He spends the next few hours in front of a flickering fire, under a sky glimmering with uncountable stars, telling Power about all of the things he's eaten.

*

It's in those floaty final seconds before he drifts off to sleep, still laying between Power’s paws, that Denji catches it.

She called him human.

*

He knows what will happen when they open the door. After all, Makima just told him, and Makima was never wrong.

"Denji?"

Makima is wrong. She saved him and he loves her and everything about her is wrong and what's about to happen is wrong. But she's right about what's going to happen. What she's about to do. What he's going to let her do.

"Denji, wake up."

A slender hand reaches for a doorknob and Denji knows that he's the worst person in the world. But he doesn't do anything to stop it. The door opens to reveal a slender blonde fiend with a cake in her hands and fear in her eyes.

"Denjiiiiiiiii."

Makima points at Power and-

"Wake! Up!"

Denji is forcibly jolted to wakefulness by Power yanking her legs out from under him. Or rather, Power yanks her legs out from under him, then he's forced back to wakefulness when his head and back slam against the ground.

His pained yelp comes immediately. The glare that follows is significantly weaker than what Power has earned. For one thing, it takes a moment for him to force his swimming vision to focus on the Blood Devil's looming figure. For another, it's significantly weakened by the confusion that overtakes him when he notices the incredibly dim light of the sky above.

"What?" he grouses. "Why did you wake me up?"

Power falters, looking off to the side.

Denji scowls.

No, maybe this isn't too surprising. Power isn't an earlier riser most of the time, but when the urge hits her for some unfathomable reason, god help anyone who happens to be around her. He's lived through this many times before, albeit with a much smaller version of his erstwhile sister, and knows better than to expect her not to give in to her whims. That doesn't make it any less irritating.

"Tell me you didn't just wake me up for the hell of it? I thought mornings were for sleeping," Denji grumbles, already pushing himself up to his feet. He can give her all the shit he wants, but now that he's up, he knows damn well that Power won't be letting him get back to sleep.

"No," Power says, standing up in turn. "I woke you up 'cause it's time to go fishing!"

And yeah, that definitely sounds like it was made up on the spot, but it still gives him pause. Squinting at Power, he asks, "Fishing?"

"Yeah!" she eagerly responds. "Humans like fish, right?"

"Most people do."

"Last night, you said you like fish."

"I mean, yeah, there are a lot of great ways to cook it."

"Well, I'm going to show you that my fish are the best of all!"

Power turns around and prances off into the woods without another word.

Denji stares after her for a moment, blinking dumbly, before coming back to himself and rushing after her.

"Hold on!" he calls. "I don't have any fishing gear."

Power snorts. "Silly human! You don't need gear."

Denji's heart does something funny at that word. Human. It nags at him, overpowering his desire to ask how she wants him to catch fish without a pole or net and forcing his next question out of his mouth. "When did you decide I'm human?"

"Huh?" Power asks, peering down at him quizzically. It's then that he notices that she's slowed her pace slightly to let him keep up. He tries not to think anything about it.

"Before, you seemed pretty convinced that I'm a devil lying about being human," he says. "What made you change your mind?"

"Oh, well..." Power looks up and away. "You said so many stupid things that I recognized that you must be human."

A faint smile touches Denji's lips. "Part human."

Power looks back down at him. "What parts?"

"Everything but my heart."

"Oh, right, that. How did-"

She's about to ask. He can feel the question coming in the way his chest constricts and his heart aches. 

The words never come. Her head snaps to the side and, with a cry of, "This way!" she bolts off.

Denji stands there for a moment, unable to put the way that he's feeling into words, before shoving it all down and racing after her.

He quickly realizes what distracted her. The sound of rushing water reaches his ears before the river comes into sight. Power is standing up to her knees in crystal-clear water, staring expectantly at Denji. He can't tell how cold it is from looking at her. He has a sinking feeling that the answer is 'very'.

Not that it matters. He realizes that he doesn't have a choice in the matter a few seconds before Power looks at him and says, "Get in. I'm going to show you how to catch a fish the right way."

*

He had expected as much, but it's still vindicating to learn that Power thinks that the "right way" to catch a fish is with his bare hands.

Vindicating and frustrating.

Very frustrating.

Power doesn't let up until he's caught one. The entire time he fumbles around in the water, she stands there with her growing pile of salmon, openly laughing at his efforts. Her laugh is a little annoying, but also warm, bright, and delighted.

It's the same as when she loved him back.

After hours of fumbling around in the water, Denji finds himself perched on a large, flat rock in the middle of the river. The frigid waters feel even colder as the droplets dry against his skin. He doesn't let the discomfort drive him back into the water. He's spent too long fumbling around, it's time to get serious. Power wants him to catch a fish? Well, he'll show her! He'll catch the biggest, fattest fish in the river, even if he has to do it a little stupidly! Just to prove his point, he won't even use his chainsaws to help him.

...Just to prove a point. Not because he didn't think about that until now. Yeah.

He doesn't know how long he spends squatted on that rock. Shadows pass by in the water, but none of them are close enough to the surface for him to risk lunging forward and scaring them all away. At some point, Power prowls out of the water. She's done a good amount of splashing herself and has been rendered something close to clean. She lays down on the shore with her head resting on her front legs, one ankle crossed over the other and her heavy-lidded eyes resting on Denji.

Denji points at her and warns, "You'd better not fall asleep before I can get my fish."

Power snorts. "I would never do such a thing."

"You better not," Denji mutters.

From there, it's back to waiting for the fish. He stands still as a statue as he watches them pass under the shadow of his rock. His muscles are starting to cramp when one of them finally drifts into the perfect position.

He lunges forward, loses his balance, and tumbles head-over-ass into the river. The cold sends a fresh shock through his system, yet he still feels a surge of victory he feels when his hands close around something slippery and squirming. That thrilling feeling dissipates when his feet slip out from under him a second later, sending him floating down the river.

Fuck! Denji thinks. Letting himself drown isn't an option, but he's going to have to let go of the fish to swim to shore. Power is going to mock him.

At least, that's what he thinks is going to happen. Before he can bring himself to accept defeat and let the fish go, something even worse than drowning happens.

A giant maw lifts him out of the water by the back of his shirt.

A special kind of humiliation overcomes Denji as he looks up into Power's laughing eyes. It drains him of his energy and leaves him unable to do anything but dangle weakly in her mouth. When she deposits him on the ground, he flops onto his back like a puppet with his string. He tries to stare up at the sky, only to find Power's head blocking his line of sight.

"You owe me your life," she smugly informs him.

Denji plans on shooting off a retort. Then his breath catches, his mind flashes back to a dumpster, and all he can bring himself to say is, "I do."

Power cackles, triumphant. She sits down on her haunches before asking, "And how do you intend to repay your debt?"

I can't, but I'm trying, Denji thinks.

He sits up and holds out the salmon still flailing in his grasp. "I got you a fish."

Power tilts her head as she considers this. "...An acceptable start. I shall allow it," she eventually declares. Straightening her head back up, she lows her jaw in an unspoken command.

Denji manages a small smile as he tosses the fish into her waiting mouth. She snaps it up and swallows it down in a single bite.

"Alright," he says, standing up. The movement reminds him of just how cold he is. He crosses his arms before asking, "Can we get going now? Or are you planning on sending me back into the water?"

"And undo all my hard work?" Power questions. "No, I shan't be giving you another chance to drown yourself."

Denji would point at Power if it wouldn't mean uncrossing his arms. He settles for sticking his tongue out at her instead.

She sticks her tongue back out at him.

A bark of laugher escapes Denji's chattering jaw. "You're the one who made me get in the damn river in the first place," he gripes, but there's no real ire in his voice.

"I gave you a chance to prove your ability to survive the wilds," Power corrects.

Denji snorts. "And what do you think? Did I meet your mighty standards?"

"Hmm..." Power drums her fingers against the ground for a moment before declaring, "I suppose you could have done worse."

The warmth growing in Denji's chest is almost enough to counter the chill on his skin.

"Gee, thanks." He looks out at the river and lets out a heavy sigh. "You know, this wasn't too bad."

"No?" Power asks, glancing away, and even on a devil's face, Denji knows that look. Proud, bashful, hesitant to admit something soft and warm.

It makes his own expression soften, and because he knows that she won't, he says, "Yeah. It was fun."

With that, he walks over to collect Power's pile of fish. Knowing her, she'd be content to let them all go to waste now that she's drained them of their blood. "Now c'mon," he says. "I wanna get a fire going before I can freeze my ass off."

*

Through some miracle, Power agrees to help him collect wood. Between the two of them, they manage to set the fastest bonfire Denji's seen in his life. He strips down to his underwear- which he distantly realized might have been a smart thing to do before climbing into the river - and plops down next to it. Once his skin is warm and dry, he changes into fresh clothes and sets about grilling the fish.

Grilling? Is that the word for skewering fish on a stick and dangling them over a fire?

Whatever. Fish get cooked, and that's what's important. The scales make them a bit of a pain to eat, but Denji's never been a quitter when it comes to food. Between himself and Power, they work through the pile while sharing some warm, pointless, precious small talk.

Somewhere along the way, the sun begins to set. Denji lays down beside the dying embers of the fire to stare up at the hues of orange, gold, red, and pink slowly bleeding across the sky. Beside him, Power rolls onto her back to do the same.

Shades of deep, blackish blue have started to creep across the horizon when Power says, "You didn't finish your story earlier."

"My story?" Denji asks. If he squints at the dark spot, he can make out the first stars of the evening.

"You were going to tell me how you ended up with the heart of a devil, but you stopped."

"Oh," Denji murmurs. Unthinkingly, he raises a hand to brush his fingers against his chest. Then he realizes exactly what Power says and turns his head to frown at her. "You interrupted me," he points out.

Power doesn't look away from the sky. "I did no such thing."

"You-" Liar. Power is an immature, consummate liar who won't admit to her mistakes unless absolutely forced to. She'll cling to ridiculous claims like they're the end of the world as long as it means avoiding a little humiliation. He doubts that'll change any time soon, especially now that she doesn't remember everything that turned her from the gremlin he met into the sister he lost. He's not sure that he wants it to change. That insufferably is part of what makes her Power, and even if he wouldn't mind her toning it back a little, she wouldn't be Power if it went away completely.

It doesn't matter right now anyway. Because she's asking about him. Maybe she's not asking about the part he yearns for her to ask apart, the stuff that would give him a chance to say what he desperately wants to, but it's a step in the right direction. And that means that he has to answer her, no how much he has to rake his brain to find the words, no matter how much those words hurt to say.

"You really want to know?" he asks, only to feel a pang of anxious regret when he realizes that he's inadvertently offered her an out.

She doesn't take it.

"I would not have wasted the words if I didn't," she says.

"Right," Denji murmurs. He takes in a deep breath, opens her mouth-

"I trust that you shan't tell me a boring story," Power adds.

A stinging smile curls at the corners of Denji’s lips. “It’s not boring,” he promises. “Might be a little sad though.”

Denji goes quiet as he waits for Power to respond. When she doesn't, he takes that as his cue to keep going.

It's as the first words come pouring out that he decides how he's going to go about doing this. His childhood is going to be shitty to think about it no matter how he goes about it, so he isn't going to think about it at all. He's going to remember and describe what he's remembering. If he trips over himself or can't find the words, he'll just make himself keep going. It doesn't matter if he misses some details or gets them wrong. As long he's able to get the general idea across, everything will be fine.

As long as she understands how it felt.

"I didn't have an easy childhood," he begins. "My dad... he was shitty from the start. And eventually-" His mind flashes back to a moment of terror that bled into a moment of desperate rage. It builds into a terrible weight, too much to handle, and suddenly there's a door he must never touch and- he shoves it aside and pushes on. "Eventually he died. And I inherited his debt."

"You took on a contract of his?" Power asks. Denji looks over to find that the puzzlement in her voice is reflected on her face as she peers at him.

"Something like that," Denji says. "He owed these people a whole bunch of money, and they expected me to pay it back."

"T'wasn't your debt though," Power protests. "Rightfully, his contract would have died with him."

The corner of Denji's mouth twitches. "Some contracts can last after death," he says.

Power sniffs. "For humans, perhaps. We devils have a simpler, purer way of doing things."

"Yeah... I think I like the devil way more," Denji confesses. "I wouldn't have survived without a devil to help me."

For an idiot, Power catches on fast. "You made a contract to help with your father's contract?" she asks, a hint of excitement making its way into her tone. He can tell then that he isn't going to have to worry about her complaining about him telling her a 'boring' story.

Denji's hand, still lingering over his heart, grasps the fabric of his shirt and tightens into a fist. He hasn't even started talking about Pochita yet and his chest is already hurting. Yet it doesn't hurt quite as much as he expected it to. There's pressure in his chest, and while looking at Power doesn't lessen it completely, it does add an edge of warmth. He makes sure to keep his eyes on her as he continues.

"Kinda. I made the contract because I needed help, but... That's isn't why I did it." He swallows heavily and allows his mind to drift back to that dark, dreary day. One of the most precious days of his life. "After dad's funeral, I found a hurt devil in the graveyard. He was a cute little guy, all round and fuzzy, with a chainsaw coming out of his head. It looked like he was going to die, so I gave him my blood and told him that it was a contract, I'd help him and he'd help me."

Power can't quite tilt her head while laying on her back, but she tries nonetheless. "You made a contract with a small, cute devil?"

"Yeah," Denji says. "His name was Pochita."

“‘Tis not a name to strike fear into the hearts of men,” Power grumbles.

“Nah, but it fit him.” Denji lets out a long sigh. "He was my best friend." My only friend. "We didn't have much food or money, and the place we lived was pretty shitty, but it never felt too bad, because we had each other. We shared what we had and found ways to make life a little easier."

"Like what?"

"Well... We didn't live in the forest, but we were pretty close to one. Most of the time we just went into it to cut trees for money, but sometimes we went exploring, just for the hell of it. And..." Denji slowly looks away from Power, up to the rapidly dimming sky. The very last shreds of orange rest on the horizon and stars can be seen brightly twinkling overhead now. He lifts his hand off his chest and begins to reach out to his side, where Pochita should be. For a moment, he can imagine that he'll feel his soft fur is he reaches an inch further.

He returns his hand to his chest before he can be disappointed. It doesn't quite stop the pang that echoes through his heart. He pushes through it to continue, "Sometimes, when the sky was clear, we'd go out at night and look at the stars. But for the most part, I just talked to him. About my dreams, and everything I wanted to do if I ever got the chance."

"Sounds boring," Power declares, a shade more subdued than he expected.

Denji looks back over at her. She's staring up at the stars, and for the first time, he realizes that Pochita used to lay down the same way when he was looking at the sky.

He wonders how Pochita and Power would have gotten along if they had met.

He hopes that they would have loved each other as much as he loves them.

The traitorous scratching sensation in the back of his throat reminds him that he's doing too much thinking. That's completely unacceptable, especially with the part of the story that he's coming up on. He clears his throat, clears his mind, and continues, "Anyway, the Yakuza I worked for made a deal with a devil, and it turned them all into zombies. Then it lured me and Pochita into a trap, and... well... it killed me."

Power looks at Denji, expression somewhere between flat and befuddled. "But you are alive," she points out.

"I am now," Denji says. "But for a little while, I was dead. The Yakuza zombies chopped me up and threw me in a dumpster. But Pochita ran after me. He..."

Denji's throat is tight. His eyes sting - not enough to make him think that he's going to cry, but enough to be irritating. All that he's giving Power is a short, shitty summary that he isn't even letting himself think about, but it's still enough that the words get tangled up and almost bring him to a stop completely. It's stupid; he's told people about Pochita without struggling this much before. He had to.

He just hasn't told the story since... everything. Which really just makes it stupider. If anything, the extra time should make it easier for him to tell the story. Yet there's a tangled knot in his chest, and for a moment, he really wants to give up.

Looking into Power's confused, curious eyes is what pushes him on. If he isn't able to tell her about this, how can he ever hope to tell her about herself?

"He sacrificed himself for me," Denji says. "It was a contract. He became my heart, brought me back to life, and gave me his powers."

"What did he want in return?" Power asks.

"He asked me to live the life that we dreamed about."

Power makes a dismissive 'humph' sound. "You're lucky to have found such an odd devil. I would never make such a contract," she announces.

Denji has to fight down a laugh. And when he focuses on that, the almost-laugh, he can almost ignore the other, more strangled thing threatening to rise up from deep in his core.

"Definitely not," he agrees.

*

Denji wakes up to storm clouds on the horizon and Power nowhere to be seen.

His first impulse is to wander off into the forest to look for her. There are two things that stop him. One, she came back after the first two times she disappeared, and that was before they bonded. Which... they have bonded, right? The very thought makes him feel antsy, like he'll somehow jinx the situation if he lets himself hope, but he's pretty sure that they've bonded by this point. At least a little bit. It can't hurt to acknowledge that. There's no way all of the time they've spent together amounts to nothing. It isn't - it can't all be for nothing.

Thinking too heavily about the first reason not to go after Power makes Denji struggle to breathe, so he tries to focus on the second one.

Those storm clouds look really bad. He can already feel the biting chill of the breeze and smell the rain on the air. Normally he wouldn't let himself be put off by a little rain, but normally he has a house to retreat to if it gets too bad. Even the shack he lived in with Pochita, crappy as it was, was more or less waterproof. He isn't sure that he can say the same of his lean-to. The tarp has held up through a few light drizzles that came at night, but he isn't confident that it can last through an actual storm.

The morning is spent preparing for the worst. Denji has a few small bags of food tied up in the branches of the pine he's camping under. He takes them down and moves them into the lean-to. As he does so, he can't help but think that it's a small wonder that Power didn't steal them at that point. After that, he checks the stakes securing his shelter's tarp to the ground, trying to drive them deeper in. Then he pushes everyone on the inside of the lean-to to the very back.

Finally, when the first raindrops begin to fall, he sits down, stares out at the clearing, and allows himself to feel like a fucking moron for not thinking to get something to cover the front of his shelter.

If something like this ever happens again, he's investing in a tent.

He really hopes that nothing like this ever happens again.

The rain is pretty light at first. Unfortunately, 'at first' doesn't last for very long. It gets heavy fast. The wind comes soon after, spraying rain into the lean-to and everything inside of it, Denji included. There are only a few minutes between that and the first bolt of lightning, but those few minutes are enough to render him soaked to the bone and freezing cold.

He's trying to come up with some sort of plan to keep this from turning into a completely terrible clusterfuck when Power's voice cuts through the din of the storm. "Denji!" she calls, and it's only then that he bothered to squint through the sheets of rain to see her lumbering through the clearing.

A second later, she's shoved her head in the lean-to, the tip of her nose hovering inches away from his face. Water drips off of her, but it's still significantly less than was getting in without her massive head blocking the way.

"What are you doing out here?" she demands.

Denji takes a moment to sputter before asking, "Where else was I supposed to go?"

He has no idea what Power's thinking, but as he stares at her, he can clearly tell that it's something. It is not, however, something that she deigns to share.

Oh no. She decides to go with something far worse.

"Get in my mouth," she commands, opening her mouth to release a wave of coppery stench.

Denji gags and scoots as far back as he can, his back pressing against the rough bark of the pine tree. "Wha- No!" he cries.

"Do you wish to remain in this misery?" she demands.

"No, but I'm not getting in your mouth!"

"Your other option is to walk through the rain."

"You thought that was the worse option!?"

"You'll get wet!"

"I'm already wet! And I'd rather stay that way than get covered in whatever you have in your mouth!"

Power falters. "You aren't going to stay here, are you?"

"Why?" he asks. You aren't worried about me, are you? Denji bites the words down before they can slip past his lips, unwilling to push too far and risk this... whatever this is. This thing that he doesn't dare to name. Instead, he asks, "Do you have anywhere else for me to go?"

"Of course," Power huffs out. "I told you that I don't stay out in the remain, did I not?"

Denji blinks. "And..." You're willing to take me to your hideout?

Something bright and warm and dangerous flares to life in his chest. He tries to smother the feeling before it can get strong enough to burn.

"Okay," he says. "Okay, sure. Just let me get my stuff."

"We should leave now," Power protests.

Denji shakes his head. "I won't take everything, but I ain't gonna let myself get locked in some hole without any food. Who knows how long this storm will last." Frankly, the concept of leaving the majority of his supplies behind to get ruined in the storm grates, but this is an emergency evacuation. Those tend to go a lot less smoothly when you're carrying a bunch of crap with you.

For Power's sake as much as his own, he tries to move fast. Grabbing the bags containing his remaining food is a no-brainer. The first aid kit is obvious too. He isn't planning on getting hurt, but if something happens, he doesn't want to be caught without it. Both are shoved in his sodden backpack, along with his flashlight, even though he hasn't actually had to use the thing yet. The lighter, he knows, is already sitting at the bottom - although that might have already been ruined by the rain.

Packing gets harder after that. He wants to bring his bedding, but it's bulky and already soaking wet. How long would it take to dry it off? Would it be worth how much harder it will make the slog through the rain?

"Denji, I am getting rained on," Power prods.

Right, okay, no. Fuck the bedding. He's probably slept in worse places than wherever they're going anyway. He can come back for his bedding, tarp, and the big backpack later. Assuming that there's anything to come back to.

Oh well. At least he won't be getting stormed on and possibly destroyed along with it.

Denji uncomfortably shrugs his soaking backpack on and picks up his remaining, massive water container. On the bright side, he only has about three gallons left, so it doesn't weigh him down the way it did when he first set out.

"Alright," he says, stepping out into the storm. He has to shout to be heard over the downpour. "Let's get going."

Power doesn't need to be told twice. She rises to her feet, and Denji expects her to start leading the way. Instead, she bends down to grab him by the back of his shirt. A startled squawk escapes him, and for one terrible moment, he thinks that she's about to stuff him in her mouth anyway.

"Relax," comes Power's muffled voice. A moment later, she sets him down on her back. Denji has to scramble to keep himself from slipping off, wrapping his arms around his water jug, leaning down on top of it to keep it still, and twisting his hands deep into Power's mane.

"Give a guy some warning next time!" he barks.

Power laughs. "Hold on!"

And then she starts galloping. Denji curses, but can't even hear it over the roaring of the rain and thunder. The combination of the downpour and the speed at which his horrible steed is moving force him to squeeze his eyes shut. He tightens his grip on her mane, leans down until he would be laying flat on her back if not for the jug, and prays to whatever can hear him that he won't fall off. He doesn't think it would kill him or even hurt him that bad, but it would be humiliating. Worse yet, he isn't even sure that Power would notice.

He stays this way for an unknown amount of time. It feels like it takes a long time, but that's probably because of how much it sucks. But eventually, Power's pace slows. The rain stops. Denji can hear the tip-tap of claws on stone over the rain, which sounds a little more distant than it did before.

"We're here!" Power announces.

Denji opens his eyes and is greeted by darkness.

He blinks a few times, his eyes adjust, and suddenly he's looking at the dim interior of a cave.

"This is where you live?" he asks, and he's unable to keep the surprise out of his voice, because even though he knows that she can't remember, all he can think is that he can't believe Power would live somewhere so dark.

"Only when it's storming," Power says, crouching down. "Any permanent residence of mine would have to be far grander."

Denji hums as he dismounts. When his feet hit the ground, he sets his jug down, shrugs his backpack off, and casts another long look around the cave.

It's not very deep. He can see all the way to the back, where a mountain of bloody, dirty cloth is piled on the floor. Knick-knacks are pressed up against the walls leading up to it; large sticks, shimmery stones, a few twisted chunks of metal, and something that looks suspiciously like a chewed-on hubcap. Despite these signs of habitation, it's still a pretty miserable place. The dusty brown walls don't look like they're wet, but they're still hard, cold stone. It isn't quite as cold as it was out in the rain, but there is no ignoring the chill in the air. Denji wraps his arms around himself, a useless gesture when he's soaked to the bone, and tries not to let his teeth chatter.

"What do you think?" Power asks.

"It's kinda dank," he admits.

He expects Power to argue. It didn't feel like something worth lying about, but she has never taken insults to anything she considers her nicely, even if they were objectively true. It only goes to stand to reason that the same could be said of her domain. But she just hums, the sound tinged by a hint of melancholy, and murmurs, "It's too dark."

Goosebumps rise over Denji's skin. It isn't because of the cold.

"Still better than getting rained on," Denji offers, shooting Power a grin. It turns out stiffer than he wanted on account of him actively struggling not to shiver out of his skin.

He must not be doing as good of a job as he thought, because Power lifts a paw to poke gently at Denji's shoulder. "You should change your skins. They're freezing you alive."

Denji blinks. "You mean my clothes?"

"Yes. That's what I said."

Denji decides to let that one slide, since she was nice enough to take him out of the storm, even if it was to go hide in a shitty cave. Plus, yeah, the wet clothes are really fucking cold.

He grabs his backpack off the floor the walks toward the back of the cave, toward the mess of probably stolen sheets that he can only assume is Power's bed. She pads after him. Denji ignores her as he sets the backpack back down and starts to rifle through it. He knows that his clothes have been pushed to the bottom; he doesn't know if that was enough to save them from being soaked.

"You and Pochita lived somewhere like this," Power says after a moment.

Denji falters. Then he resumes searching and says, "I mean, our shack had wooden walls, but yeah. It was pretty shitty too." As he speaks, he takes out the first aid kit and food. A scowl crosses his face as he pulled out a sodden shirt. That's one thing he won't be changing into.

"But you live somewhere better now?" she questions. A small pile of wet clothes is forming next to Denji now.

"Yeah," Denji says. "Things got better after I moved in with Aki."

He says it without thinking. Then it's been said and he feels like someone's punched him in the chest. His hand freezes on top of a mostly-dry shirt at the very bottom of the backpack.

"Who's Aki?" Power asks.

It was Aki's shirt, actually. He didn't even realize he'd packed it until now.

"...Denji? Did I know him?"

"...Yeah. You did," Denji croaks out, and it hurts to say, but he has to say it. Power's asking, and she deserves to know, and he can't afford to let this opportunity go to waste. He can barely breathe, but he forces himself to grab the shirt and the pair of pants beneath it and rise to his feet. Power is facing him, but her eyes are turned away, toward the wall.

They stay like that for a long time. Then Power looks back at him and, in a voice that he would almost call shaking, says, "Tell me about him."

Denji nods. His voice throat feels like it's been sanded, but he still manages to ask, "Just him?"

Power hesitates.

"No," she finally decides. "Tell me what I used to be like as well."

When Denji nods again, it's accompanied by one of the shakiest smiles he's ever produced. Yet he can't quite bring himself to call it sad. Not when the ache in his heart is tempered by a burst of what he can't deny is hope. Not when, for the first time in days, he's allowing himself to believe that this might turn out alright.

"I'll tell you everything," he promises.

*

Denji changes into mostly-dry jeans, a black shirt that still smells like cigarettes, and curls up with Power in her little nest.

And he tells her everything.

He starts off at the beginning. Except it's not really the beginning, is it? He's continuing the story that he couldn't bring himself to finish last time, starting with Pochita's death. He tells Power about the horrible woman who he couldn't help but love, who showed him kindness for the first time in his life. He tells him about his brother, the cold devil hunter who turned out to be the most caring person he's ever known. He tells her about his sister, the rude, self-serving fiend who sacrificed herself to give him a chance at doing the impossible.

It takes hours for him to cover everything. He tells her every single thing he remembers, leaving no detail, no matter how small or mundane. How could he? The big moments are always engraved into his mind, but in those aching moments when he allows himself to look back, it's the small things that tell him that his family was alive. That it was real . He can't deny Power that, even if he has to speak a little slower to stop himself from getting caught in his own words sometimes.

But it's not just the small things that he tells her about. Eventually, he has to tell her about Aki's death. About how she died. About how they killed Makima, together, even if only one of them was physically present. And those parts make him feel like his heart is being torn out of his chest, but somehow, he manages to push through them as well.

Even so, it eventually becomes too much. He can't bring himself to detail the lonely days that came after Makima's death. When he stops talking, he intends on it only being a temporary pause. But when he notices Power drifting off, having stayed quiet and absorbed his story the entire time, he decides that it can wait for later.

He doesn't know what she's thinking. He doesn't know that he... Well, no. Denji does want to know what she's thinking, just not yet. He doesn't know if he can handle it tonight.

As he drifts off to sleep, curled up by Power's side, he allows himself to soak in the feeling of having her back.

He doesn't allow himself to think that it might not last.

Chapter Text

There is no confusion when Denji drifts back into consciousness. He knows immediately that he is sprawled out in between Power’s paws. The faint smell of mildew, copper, and wet dog comes from the massive pile of rags that he is laying on top of. He can hear the rain falling in the distance. If he opens his eyes and looks toward the cave’s entrance, he might be able to see it falling.

Denji does not open his eyes.

This is the first time that he has woken up with his head clear in a long time. Fresh nightmares linger in the back of his mind, but there is a distance to them that he hasn’t felt in an even longer time. It makes him think that if he’s able to fall back to sleep, he might not dream at all.

The ache in his back complicates things. Denji rolls over in an attempt to smother it, ending up pressed closer to a warm, lumpy wall that he immediately knows is Power’s ribcage. It's a precarious place to be, considering the gorey mass that must be dangling right above him, but the tired haze that is Denji’s mind keeps him from giving too much of a damn. He allows himself to melt into her and drift back off with a contented sigh.

Then she moves.

Denji is sent rolling into the divet in the sheets that Power had previously occupied. He’s squirming before he opens his eyes. An indignant squawk bursts free from his lips before he manages to formulate it into words. Or rather, one word, the only word that’s even necessary under these circumstances. “Fuck!”

“Hello,” Power returns, completely unbothered. She’s sitting up and staring out at the stormy scenery beyond the cave. The faint light that filters into the cave is rendered dull and gray by the overcast sky. However, it’s still bright enough that the Blood Devil should be able to see Denji’s scowl as he sits up.

“I was sleeping,” he points out.

“‘Tis morning. A clear time to stop.”

“Seriously?” Denji gestures toward the entrance of the cave and the pouring rain beyond it. “You can’t tell me that doesn’t make you want to sleep in.”

“We cannot talk if we’re asleep,” comes Power’s response. It is confident and easy - so confident and easy that anyone else would miss the uncertainty beneath it.

Denji blinks. “You want to talk?”

"Your tale has made me realize that your lifestyle is truly nonsensical." Power shifts to lay down. Her body is curled in a loose crescent around Denji, and while her head is held high and regal, the tip of her tail flops into his lap. "I demand that you explain why you maintain it. If your explanation fails to satisfy, you will follow my improvement plan."

Denji tries to take a deep breath. It ends up being rough and shallow, but he supposes that's better than forgetting how to breathe entirely. "Alright," he says. "Why don't you go first?"

Power blinks, tilting her head to the side, and despite being a giant cat-raccoon-blood monster, the gesture is so her that for a moment, he can't see any difference between the devil before him and the fiend that first crashed into Aki's apartment. "Me?" she parrots.

"Yeah," Denji says. "So I can prepare myself for what's gonna change if you aren't happy with what I've gotta say."

A moment of silence passes as Power considers this. It comes to an end when she straightens her head up to nod her assent. It sends a ripple through her mane that bears an aching resemblance to the sway of unruly blonde hair. "Very well. Upon pondering your situation, I have come to the realization that you do not know what is best for yourself. Aki is gone. Makima has been defeated. You are no longer bound to Public Safety, nor do you have anything else to hold onto. Yet you cling to your place in a society that has only harmed you. Why?"

There's a stormcloud growing in Denji's inside with every word. He fights to keep it from showing on his face, and he's at least successful enough that Power doesn't visibly notice. She snaps her jaw open and closed, producing an odd clicking sound. "A clear result of a feeble human brain. Thankfully, you have found me to do the thinking for you."

"And what are you thinking?" Denji presses, hoping that saying something, anything, might relieve some of the pressure in his chest. That it will do something to put him at ease. That it will make him stop feeling like he's going to be torn apart by his nerves. 

Power doesn't call him out on how much of a loser he must sound like. Because if he sounds as uneasy as he's starting to feel, then he must look pretty damn pathetic. Yet she gives him the small mercy of letting it fly. What she does do is raise a massive red paw to bat at his head. Denji ducks out of the way, but isn't able to keep the edge of her paw from gently skimming the top of his head.

"Watch it!" Denji barks. He tries to scoot backward, only to get his hand caught on a rag and gracelessly flop onto his back. The sudden movement disbalances the pile enough to half-bury him in rags.

Power shuffles forward to stare down at him. Then she laughs in his face. "Pitiful! You would never survive a true attack from the Blood Devil!" she crows.

"I so could," Denji grumbles, sitting back up and letting the rags tumble off him.

"Liar."

" No, you're just-" Easily distracted. The sense of ease and familiarity that is threatening to overtake him is tempting, but Aki's voice is in the back of his mind, telling him that they were getting somewhere with their conversation. Somewhere important. And the Denji of a few months ago may have shrugged and let it go - he still wants to let it go - but the Denji of today can't afford to. If he wants to get Power back, he can't risk missing details like the Denji of the past. So he sighs, allows his shoulders to slump, then takes a deep breath, straightens himself up, and gets serious again.

"What were you saying?" he asks.

"If we were to meet on the field of battle, you would be annihi-"

"No, before that."

"Oh." Power sits back down, first on her haunches, then lowering herself to rest on her stomach. Her paws come to rest on either side of Denji, bracketing him in without actually touching him. When she starts speaking again, her voice has gone low and grave. It's almost overdramatic, but not quite. That missed half-step takes her out of the realm of hammy and into sincerity in a way that makes Denji's gut wrench.

But not as much as her words themselves.

"If your explanation does not satisfy, you will do what you should have done the instant you found me and abandon your human life entirely. You will join me in the forest, where I shall guide you to your fullest potential."

And suddenly Denji can't breathe. Sorta. His heart's pounding and he can feel the air whooshing in and out of his lungs, but he can't feel it. The tightness in his chest is indescribable. He isn't going to cry - he would feel more like he was going to collapse if that was going to happen - but the memory of tears is burned into his eyes, making them sting like a bitch. His muscles are so tense that he's frozen up completely, yet he still finds it in himself to speak. He doesn't say anything smart, but at this point, he suspects that Power might know him well enough not to expect anything like that.

"You want me to live with you?" he croaks out.

Power nods. "You're pathetic and weak, but keeping you around may be of some advantage. And..." She hesitates, glancing away, and Denji doesn't need Aki's imagined guidance to know that whatever she's going to say next is going to be important. It's written in her tone and the dull, vulnerable glint of her eyes, almost the same as what he saw through tear-stained eyes in a tiny, crowded dumpster.

"Hey," he chokes out, "Whatever you wanna say, you don't need to worry about me telling anyone."

He doesn't have anyone else left to tell.

Power's head bobs oddly as she shuffles in place for a few moments, eyes cast off toward the side of the cave. Finally, she looks Denji in the eyes and says, "No past life of mine would be foolish enough to make a contract if it weren't worthwhile. Your story ended terribly, but... there were parts that I enjoyed. I want to have what we had before." She lowers her head down to his level. "I want to be your friend again, Denji. This way, we can be."

Her eyes are soft and burning. Denji doesn't want to look away, but he has to. He can barely see the shadow of the sun through the wall of rain beyond the cave's entrance. He can feel the air whooshing in and out of his chest, but it doesn't make any difference. Distantly, he wonders if this is what drowning feels like, or if maybe it's another version of coming back to life.

No. This feels too much like being torn in two to be that. He didn't do a good enough job of trying to play it safe earlier. The flame of hope inside him got too big and now it's threatening to burn him from the inside out, because he suddenly knows how this is going to end. No, this isn't coming back to life. If he had to choose a word, he'd have to say that this feels closer to dying.

Denji forces himself to look back at Power, because it's important that he looks at her while he says this, no matter how much it hurts. "We are friends," he croaks. "But Power-"

He doesn't want to say it. It feels like horking up razors, it feels like saying admitting defeat, it feels like a betrayal. But Aki's in the back of his mind, sad and sympathetic, but unwaveringly firm as he reminds him of his responsibilities.

It's then that he realizes that there is no going back to the way things used to be, no matter how much he wants to. Aki isn't coming back, and Power...

Denji will always love Aki and Power, but he isn't the same person they left behind. And that is why Power may be truly lost as well. Because no matter how much they want to go back to the way things were, she isn't the one who needs him.

"You're wrong," Denji whispers.

"Wrong?" Power's maw is incapable of frowning, but it doesn't matter. He can see the exact expression she would be wearing if she had a human face.

"I do have something keeping me in the human world. I have Nayuta."

Power sits up. A subtle shift across her features is all that she can manage, but Denji would be able to see her confusion even without it. "What's Nayuta?" she asks.

"She's..." Denji swallows heavily. He doesn't want to do this, but he has to, so he does. He doesn't know what to say, just that he has to say something, so he doesn't say it as himself. He blocks out all of the thoughts that feel like they belong to Denji and lets Aki do the talking. "She's a little girl. The new Control Devil. Kishibe found her in China and gave her to me, so I've been taking care of her."

"Makima," Power hisses. Her eyes narrow. "What do you care for Makima's reincarnation after all she's done?"

Denji opens his mouth and rakes his mind, searching for what Aki would say-

And finds nothing.

Because Aki was kind and caring and so, so much less of an asshole than he'd first thought, but he was also vengeful. He would have come around to Nayuta in time, would have loved her, but he wouldn't have agreed to take her in right off the bat. It can't be Aki who explains what she means and why she deserves so much better than to be blamed for what Makima did. It has to be Denji.

Because Aki is gone. He's gone and he isn't coming back. He hasn't said a word this entire time; it's just been Denji clinging onto a ghost. But he can't do that right now. A ghost might be able to tell him how to care for Nayuta, but it can't explain why he loves her.

"She isn't Makima," Denji says.

The words fall weakly from his lips and Power dismisses them with a scoff. "If that were true, you wouldn't be here . If she is not your Makima, I cannot be your Power."

And she isn't wrong. Except for the way that she really, really is.

"I came here to help turn you back into Power, like I promised," Denji says, finding his words as he says them. For the first time in days, he consciously gives himself permission to act without thinking, to let himself do what he's feeling. To let himself be Denji. "Maybe Nayuta's Makima, but she also isn't. Makima... She wasn't just born evil. Someone else turned her into what she was. Nayuta is what Makima could have been if someone had actually cared about her. She..."

She had been the first person to show him kindness. Even if she tore it all down, Makima was the one to give him a family. Even if she had been a liar through and through, there was a moment in an empty movie theater where he looked at her and saw something real. And where Makima had been nigh-indestructible, Nayuta’s even more vulnerable than Denji had been when she found him.

The tension in Denji's throat forces him to pause. He swallows heavily and finds the strength to continue. "She deserves a chance to be a better person. I'm trying to make sure she gets it."

"You're going back to her," Power says. It's not a question, but a disdainful statement. Or at least, Denji thinks she's trying to make it sound disdainful. She isn't entirely successful. He can hear the hurt and disappointment that bleeds through it. It reminds him of shattered glass, tearing at his skin and drawing blood.

"I have to," he says. Explains. Apologizes. "She needs me."

Power stares at him for a long moment, then turns her head to the side. Denji feels the glass wedge itself further beneath his skin.

"Well, I do not," she declares. "Your argument is not the worst, but you are still making a foolish decision. You are a pitiful little fool."

"Probably," Denji says, forcing himself to breathe through his breathlessness, to keep his voice even and steady and solid. To keep going on the off chance that his gut feeling may be wrong, that he may be able to salvage this yet. "But the way I see it, fools have a lot more fun, so why don't you give it a try?"

Power turns her head slightly, the crimson crosses in her bright yellow eyes settling on him once again. "Excuse me?"

"You could leave the forest if you wanted, couldn't you?"

"Of course!" Power tosses her head back and shakes her mind imperiously, the perceived challenge to her ego breaking through her displeasure. "The Blood Devil can do whatever she wants!"

"Then come home with me!" Denji stands up and holds his arms out. There's no real joy in the wild, desperate grin that spreads across his face. "I can't leave Nayuta, but there's nothing stopping you from coming into the city. You can meet her, and see Nyako again, and-"

"Cram myself into your minuscule human residence?"

Denji's heart was already sinking prior to Power's question. Now, he feels the edges chill as it drops even lower. His arms fall as well, but not his smile. He can't let go of that yet. Not when there's still a chance, not when he's come so close, not when this isn't over yet - except in the ways that it is and he knows it. He knows it, he knows that he knows it, but he can't bring himself to admit it. So he keeps talking. "You'd have to find a body or something, 'cause I can't exactly hide a Blood Devil in my house without Public Safety freaking out, but-"

"You would have me lower myself to be a fiend," Power accuses.

"You were a fiend before," Denji reminds her, voice coming out weaker than he intended. "You were happy."

"Yes. And then I was dead," comes Power's flat response.

Denji doesn't need to think about glass or how his insides feel cold to describe how he's feeling anymore. He's more than familiar with guilt by now. One would think that it would have gotten easier. In a way, he supposes it has. He knows how to handle it better now than when he was first staring down at Aki's dead, mutilated body. Yet it still feels like Makima tearing his heart out of his chest.

His smile disappears. He knows that he should say something, wants to say something, but no matter how he rakes his mind and tugs at his heart, he can't find anything that can even begin to touch the situation.

Power doesn't have the same problem. "Public Safety destroyed us in my last life. To enter your human society is to be within their reach once again. I won't make the same mistakes for the sake of chasing ghosts."

Denji knows how this conversation goes. All he needs to do is ask if Power's scared and she'll backtrack. Push the right buttons and he can probably get her to follow him back into the city just to prove a point.

Except she's the one who has the point here. She may be in danger living on the outskirts of a city, but if she stops causing trouble, it might be okay. Can he say the same about the city? It's risky to be a fiend living in Tokyo. Who's the say that Public Safety won't scoop her up again? He'd try to stop them, of course, but how can he for sure that he'll be able to?

Power sacrificed herself for Denji once. Who is he to demand that she do it again?

Denji doesn't know how long he stands there, cold and breathless. He doesn't know when reality fell away, only that it comes crashing back when Power reaches out to poke him in the chest with one long red finger. "Denji?" she calls. "Has my insight shattered your fragile mind?"

"...Yeah," he croaks. "Sorry, I... I don't know what I was thinking."

Power sniffs. "An anticipated human folly." She turns her head toward the cave entrance. "The rain will not let up today," she murmurs.

When she snaps her head back to Denji, it's like their entire conversation never happened. "Denji, find us something fun to do!" she demands.

*

It's hard to find something fun to do in a small, dank, cold cave, but they manage. First, they fuck around with the pile of rags that creates Power's bed. Denji says something about organizing them at one point. It's half-hearted, stupid, and rightfully shot down by Power's scornful laugh and his own lack of interest in following through. They end up throwing them at each other before long, Denji calling her out on how gross they are and Power defending them as if her life depends on it. When that grows boring, Power lazily sweeps them back into a pile while Denji wanders off to pick through his dwindling supplies for something to eat.

He eats quickly. There isn't really any point to it. The rain doesn't look like it's going to let up any time soon and the cave isn't going to get more exciting if he just puts it off a bit. Yet every second not actively spent focusing on Power feels like a second wasted, so he scarfs his food down and doesn't eat again until the sun has set.

The rest of the day is spent talking. They don't dare touch on anything important. It's all word games, idle chatter, and heated, laughing debates about things that will never actually matter. Gradually, the chill in Denji's chest is replaced with the playful, subdued, loyal warmth that he's only ever felt around Power and Aki, once so befuddling, now so nostalgic that he can only think about it for short periods. The ache is still there, but it's a different sort of ache.

All in all, it's a good day.

Denji tries not to think about how much it feels like goodbye.

*

Denji wakes up cold the next morning. He rolls over and reaches out a hand, blindly searching for Power, and finds nothing.

He peels his eyes open with a groan. The cave ceiling is lighter than it's been the entire time he's been cooped up in it. Turning his head toward the cave entrance, he spies a blue sky. Beams of sunlight peek through a light scattering of clouds. They are lined with silver, the memory of a storm rather than the promise of further rain to come.

The bright, glistening world should be a welcoming sight. Perhaps it would be if not for the Blood Devil sitting stiffly beside the cave's entrance. Seeing her sitting there makes Denji's heart heavy in a way that no amount of sunlight could ever hope to help. The thing that he tried so hard not to think about yesterday suddenly feels unavoidable.

He tugs his lips into a smile as he stands up. It's half forced, half a bittersweet manifestation that he’s helpless to stop. His socks are not enough to stave off the draining cold of the cave floor, but he can't bring himself to put his shoes on quite yet.

Once the shoes are on, he'll be one step closer to leaving. Once he's gone, this camping trip will really be over and he'll have failed in his mission. Once he steps back into the city, he'll need to accept that he wasn't able to keep his promise the way he had hoped. He'll have to face the fact that Power may be back on earth, but she is still beyond his reach.

Denji already knows all of this. Even someone as illiterate as him can read the writing on the wall when it's that clear. He knows that these last few minutes won't actually change anything. Yet he still needs to try, because if he doesn't, he'll spend the rest of his life wondering what might have happened if he did.

He has too many regrets to risk adding another one.

"Hey, Powy," Denji calls. He stops by her side and puts a gentle hand on her shoulder. From the edges of his vision, he takes in the misty forest lurking a few yards beneath the cliff face the cave sits embedded in. It's a beautiful sight. He can see why Power might want to come over to look at it. Yet somehow, he gets the impression that that isn't the case this morning.

"Denji," Power murmurs. She looks down at him quickly before looking back out at the forest. Like, really quickly, too fast for him to get a chance to try and read her face. He doesn't need to. She only ever does stuff like that when she's trying to hide something, and in this case, he'd be willing to bet any amount of money that it's sadness. "You shall depart today."

On the surface, her voice carries the imperiousness of someone stating a simple fact, or maybe giving an order. It would probably be easier to listen to if he could let himself stop at the surface. He knows Power too well for that though. Just like he knows the sad look on her face without seeing it, he digs deeper without trying to and finds the undercurrent of heaviness in her voice. The fact that she's trying to hide it rather than allowing it to grow into outright sulking tells him that it's serious. That, in turn, makes Denji feel like one of the slimiest, most disgusting, worthless little creatures on planet earth.

I'm sorry, he wants to say. I love you, I love you both, but you'll be okay without me. She won't.

I love you, but you're so fucking stubborn, he wants to grouse. Why can't you just come with me?

I'm sorry, he wants to apologize, or maybe beg for forgiveness. You already did too much, I'm just being an asshole.

I would have run away if you'd come sooner, he wants to cry. But I can't. I'm not him anymore and it isn't fair and I'm so fucking sorry.

What he says is, "Yeah. Week's over, I've gotta go home."

A silence falls over them. It feels like standing on a tightrope into a gaping abyss. One wrong move will send you tumbling down into oblivion, but the tightrope's already unraveling and the fall is inevitable. All you can do is delay it for a few more precious moments. Denji wants to savor those moments, fill them with idle chatter and try to rekindle the warmth from last night, but he can't afford to. There's too much that he has to say, and they might not be the things he wants to say or the things she wants to hear, but they need to be said.

If Power isn't going to follow him out into the city, he'll at least do what he can to make sure that she's safe in the country.

Denji drops his hand down to his side. He can still feel her warmth against his palm in the seconds that follow. If he never sees her again, he thinks he'll remember that feeling for the rest of his life. It'll be seared into his mind along with the moment she barged into his life and the day when she saved it.

"Hey. Can you look at me?" he asks.

Power makes a disgruntled noise, but turns her head toward him. Her ears are flattened ever so slightly and the stiff flesh of her nose is wrinkled ever so slightly, lips pulled back in distaste. It would be convincing if not for the glossy sheen over her eyes. "What?" she demands, somewhere between a bark and a whine.

"You're going to leave the town alone, right?"

The question manages to break through Power's act and sadness alike, but not in a way that's necessarily good. She tosses her head back and lets out a long, high-pitched whine. "Denjiiiiii, that is so-"

"Responsible," Denji finishes. And fuck , it feels weird to call himself responsible, to be actively, knowingly, intentionally pushing someone to do the responsible thing. He knows that he's been doing it for a while now, but normally he doesn't have to think about it. It makes him feel like a buzz-kill. It also makes him feel like maybe Aki would be proud of him. Maybe, if he were there to tell him what to do, he'd say that he doesn't need to.

"Your tendency toward responsibility is boring," Power condemns.

"Yeah, but it's safe," Denji said. "That shit I said about Public Safety is still true. Leaving the humans alone for a week won't matter if you go back to harassing them. You've gotta leave them alone, or you won't be any safer here than you would in the city."

Power lowers herself onto her stomach with a huff. She crosses one of her front arms over the other and continues to gaze out at the city. "And what do I get in exchange for your demands?"

Denji's stomach twists. He can't tell if it's because of what he's about to say or for some other stupid reason. "I'll come visit you. I know you might get bored if you can't chew on cars and shit, but I'll try to stop by every week and bring you stuff."

Power looks up at him. He knows better than to expect it to last; her eyes are glistening too brightly for that. He also knows better than to expect to get the answer he wants when he rejected what's probably the most selfless offer she's made in this lifetime. It still feels like Makima's hand in his chest when she looks away and says, "I shall leave the human civilization alone. But I have no need for your visits."

"Alright," he says, even though it hasn't been alright for a long time and never will be again. "If that's what you want."

A tremendous effort goes into those stupid, simple, horrible words, and they almost come out sounding relaxed and easy, like he isn't being torn apart from the inside out. Power doesn't call him out on their faint tremble, just like he doesn't call her out on hers when she says, "'Tis."

Denji swallows. "I'll leave you alone then."

He doesn't know if it's a lie or not. There's a voice in his head telling him that he's an idiot making the worst mistake of his life. It's telling him that he needs to keep visiting even if she never agrees to come home with him, that he needs to do whatever it takes to keep from losing her again. However, another voice warns him that forcing himself on her like that is exactly the sort of thing that will make her run further away. It says that his only hope is to wait and see if she returns to him.

Neither of them sounds like Aki. It's just Denji in his head, and torn between two sides of himself, he finds that he has no clue which one to listen to. It leaves him not knowing what to say. He wants to say something, but everything that he can think of sounds wrong. In the end, he settles for the one thing that he needs to say no matter what.

"Thank you."

For everything.

Power doesn't respond. Denji allows himself to stare at her for a moment longer before wandering back into the cave. Collecting his belongings takes a moment that feels like an eternity. Pulling on his shoes, hiking his pack onto his back, and walking back over to the entrance of the cave feels like stepping out of Aki's old apartment for the last time.

When he stops beside Power again, it feels like nothing he's never felt before.

"I'm, uh, I'm going now," he says.

She doesn't so much as look his way. "I am aware."

"Right." Denji tightens his hands around the straps of his pack. A second later, he releases them and drops his arms to his side. "I want you to know, if you change your mind - I'm not trying to convince you or anything, but - if you wanna come find me, I'd be really happy to see you."

"Understood."

"Power..."

Can you look at me?

I'm sorry.

I love you.

"Goodbye."

There's a rocky slope leading from the cave down to the ground. It's steep, but nothing too bad for Denji to handle. He looks straight ahead as he walks down, because if he looks back, it might become too much for him to handle. If he looks back, this will really be happening. If he looks back-

"Denji!"

He looks back.

Even he can't read the expression on Power's face. She's sitting up, body tense and one hand lifted as if she is about to step forward. Denji doesn't have a chance to get his hopes up before she settles back down. However, his heart also doesn't have a chance to fracture further before she says, "I do not regret saving you."

Denji stares. Then he smiles, and his eyes are burning, but he doesn't cry. "Thanks for meeting me."

"You're welcome."

Power does not step forward, and Denji is anchored too strongly by his responsibilities to walk back. There's not a part of him that doesn't ache when he turns away.

As he begins the journey back to Nayuta, he looks up at the cloudy blue sky and whispers, "What do you think, Aki?"

The sky says nothing and the voice in his head is silent, but when he closes his eyes, he can almost picture Aki smiling. It's a smile that says that he trusts him to do this on his own.

*

It takes a few hours for Denji to get home. He chooses to take those hours rather than ask that farmer for a ride back, knows that he’ll need them to pull himself together. And he tries. He really, really tries. It isn’t any mystery what he’ll face when he gets home. The dogs will be excited, Nayuta will be curious, Kishibe will have questions, and everyone will be clamoring for his attention. It’ll be his job to hold himself together, put on a brave face, and act like he isn’t falling apart on the inside.

A few hours should be plenty of time to prepare for that. Should. When he drags himself onto the front porch, he feels like he’s about to walk into an impossible situation.

He opens the door anyway.

Denji isn’t greeted by quite as much chaos as he expected. Dogs bark, but none come rushing forward to meet him. The noise is promptly followed by the sound of Kishibe shouting something back at them. A second later, he hears the back door sliding open and the sort of clamor that could only be seven huskies being shooed outside. He should probably take advantage of it to get himself settled. Instead, he stands there, staring dully into his house and unable to call it ‘home’ the way he had been slowly starting to before all this happened.

The sound of gentle footsteps snaps him out of his stupor. He finds Nayuta staring at him from the doorway, wide-eyed and pensive. 

Denji tries to smile for her. “Hey,” he says, shrugging his backpack off. “I-”

Nayuta rushes forward to wrap her arms around his waist.

Denji freezes. His fingers go numb as he allows his backpack to drop onto the floor. He can barely feel himself moving as he folds his arms around his little sister, burying his face in her hair. He can feel her though, warm in his arms and more precious than he could ever put into words.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers into his stomach.

“Not your fault,” Denji murmurs.

A sigh sounds from the doorway. Denji looks up to see Kishibe holding a flask up to his lips. Despite everything, he finds himself frowning at the sight, the thought that the old man had better not have been drinking around Nayuta wedging itself in his head.

Kishibe doesn’t seem bothered by the suspicious look, but he isn’t unaffected by Denji as a whole. The look that he gives him is one of the most sympathetic he’s ever seen from the old drunk. It yanks Denji back into his heartache even before he says, “No luck, huh?”

Denji smiles. It hurts, it isn’t happy, and it doesn’t make him feel any better, but he can’t think of anything else to do with his face. He carefully extracts himself from Nayuta and straightens up. She takes a step back, but not without reaching out to snatch his hand in her own. He looks down at her, staring up at him with a sad smile of her own, and suddenly his own smile hurts a little less.

“You know Power,” Denji says after a moment, looking back at Kishibe. “Can’t force her to do something she really doesn’t wanna do. I got her to agree to leave the town alone, but the rest… If she wants to come home, I’ll be waiting for her.”

Kishibe takes a swig from his mystery flask. “And you’re okay with that?”

“I think I have to be.”

Kishibe stares at Denji, expression unreadable, before nodding. “Get settled down. I’ll feed the kid before taking off.”

Denji sighs, shoulders slumping with the release of a tension he hadn’t felt. “Th-”

“Don’t,” Kishibe interrupts. “This won’t happen again.”

Denji nods; it’s not like he expected anything else. This was a one-time opportunity presented by a unique circumstance. And now it’s over.

He takes a step forward, about to trudge off to the bathroom. The feeling of Nayuta’s hand tightening around his stops him. He looks back to find her staring up at him uncertainly.

“What’s up?” he asks.

“You’re sad,” Nayuta says. 

“...A little,” Denji admits. “But it’s not all bad. I did something I needed to do, and I had a lot of fun.”

Nayuta nods, considering. Finally, she drops his hand. “Tell me if I can do anything to help?”

Denji’s smile falters. When it returns, it’s smaller, but it doesn’t hurt. “Seeing you happy helps.”

*

The days pass by slowly. That doesn't stop them from blurring into an indistinguishable mass. There are moments that stand out as happy or fun or worth remembering, there always are with Nayuta around, but they are few and far between. For the most part, Denji's time is spent trying not to let himself fall too deep into the hole in his chest.

He knows that it will get better in time. The trouble is that he can't afford to wait for 'in time'. Pressing it down and forcing himself to act like everything's normal makes it hurt that much worse, but he manages. And if 'managing' means putting around the kitchen more slowly than usual as he tries to figure out what to make for dinner? Well, it's not like Nayuta's going to call him out at it.

Denji's squinting down at a completely frozen chicken and trying to figure out how disastrous it would be if he shoved it in the microwave and turned it up to full blast when the doorbell rings. He doesn't know if he appreciates the distraction or is annoyed by it. It's a good thing that the dogs are all in the backyard, or it would definitely be annoying.

Scowling down at the chicken, he sets it down on the countertop. It's meant to be gentle, but the thing slams against the counter with a force that sends it rocking. Denji scowls down at it, but before he can scold the frozen bird, someone knocks on the door.

Loudly.

"I'm coming!" Denji calls. "Keep your pants on!"

The knocking continues. It's the sort of loud, frantic banging that commands all attention: unabashed and po-

Denji doesn't know when he starts running. He doesn't feel anything along the lines of hope, not because there's no time, but because what he's feeling is far stronger than that. It's absolute certainty that propels him from the kitchen to the front door. A flash of reality strikes him as grabs the doorknob, warning him that what he's feeling is dangerous, that he'll break his heart again if he opens the door and it isn't her. It's too little, too late. With his heart trying to pound its way out of his chest and the person on the other side still pounding ferociously, Denji yanks the door open.

He has to dive backward to keep Power's fist from coming down on his forehead.

The swing sends her stumbling forward. Denji's moving the second she starts falling, his hands grabbing onto her shoulders. She grabs his wrists and stares up at him with wide yellow eyes, and it's only then that Denji realizes that he's looking at Power.

Of course he's looking at Power. She's always been Power. What he means is that he's not looking at the Blood Devil he got used to over a week in the forest, but the fiend he came to love over the course of a year. He doesn't recognize her torn pants, muddy boots, or the tattered red plaid shirt she's wearing, but the panes of her face are the same. Her barely-open mouth reveals the same pointed teeth that gnawed on his arms so many times. Small, blood-red horns point out of a mane of messy blonde hair.

She looks the same as the day he lost her.

Power lets go of his wrists. She drops her arms to her sides, tilts her head up imperiously, and states, "I have reconsidered your offer."

Denji blinks.

She's still there.

He blinks again.

His eyes are burning.

"Power..." he whispers, reaching out to place a tentative hand on her shoulder.

She does not disappear. What she does is frown and put her hand on top of his. "Denji?" she asks with an air of hesitation that she attempts to bury beneath false amusement. "Has my presence awed you beyond words?"

With that, Denji loses his ability to think. He yanks Power into his arms and buries his face in her shoulder. As the burning in his eyes builds up and spills over, she wraps her arms around him. When he begins to shake, she holds him tighter.

"Fool," Power whispers. "Did you miss me that badly?"

"Yes," Denji chokes out.

He expects Power to offer some sharp retort. Instead, he feels her nuzzling into the crook of his neck. "...Then rejoice," she says after a moment, "For I have decided to grace you with my presence once again."

Denji swallows. Slowly, the rusty cogs in his foggy head begin turning. The questions that he should be asking filter into his head one by one. He doesn't think that he can bring himself to ask most of them yet, but he's aware that he has to start somewhere. Among the hard lessons he's learned is the fact that if something looks too good to be true, it probably is. So he forces himself to lift his head and choke out, "How..."

The question dies before it can even finish forming. Through tear-stained vision, he spies a familiar old truck sitting across from his house, a familiar old man standing outside of it.

The farmer offers Denji a nod.

As he gives a slow, unsteady nod back, Denji wonders if the old man realizes just how seriously he owes him now. If he does, he doesn't give any sign of it, only offering a slight smile before climbing into his car.

Reluctantly, Denji lets go of Power and steps off to the side. "Do... Do you want to come in?" he asks.

Power walks in like she owns the place. In a way, she does. He bought it with her, after all. "Yes, but be warned, my standards are high. If your city does not live up to your descriptions, we shall relocate to my cave," she informs him, planting her hands on her hips.

Denji smiles, and it hurts, but it's a very different hurt from the one he's gotten used it. It feels like his face might crack in half. His tears have already begun to dry, but as he looks at Power, he feels like he could start again. "Guess I'll have to show you what real fun is then," he says.

Power sniffs, crosses her arms, and grins like a shark. "You cannot find a thrill more triumphant than catching a fish with your bare hands."

"Bet. You don't even know about Super Mario yet."

"What is Super Mario?"

"A video game, which you totally would have missed out on if you hadn't..." Denji trails off, allowing his gaze to rake Power up and down. He feels it as his euphoria at her familiar appearance wears off, allowing the obvious question to take root in his mind. "Power, where did you get that body?"

Power frowns. A second later, she points an accusatory finger at Denji. "You take me for a fiend!"

"You're... not?"

"Of course not! Did you not think that the great Blood Devil could shift forms?" Power drops her arms to her sides, something between disdain and smugness taking root on her face.

Denji has to open and close his mouth a few times before he finds the words he's looking for. "But how did you end up looking like that?"

"I don't know. It felt right." Power frowns. "Why? You cannot have found an error in my perfect form."

"No!" Denji hurries to say. "Nothing like that. It's just... this is what you looked like before."

Now it's Power's turn to open and close her mouth like an idiot. However, she doesn't manage to say anything before she's interrupted by an excited meow and the sound of thudding paw steps. Nyako practically flings herself at Power, the sound of her purring filling the room as she twines herself around the devil's ankles.

Power's eyes widen, staring down at the cat like she can't believe what she's seeing. Nyako tilts her head up to meow at Power plaintively. She crouches down and holds her hand out. As Nyako presses herself against it, her purr growing louder by the second, Power whispers, "Nyako."

Meanwhile, Denji...

Denji blinks, because no matter how hard he rakes his mind, he can't remember if he told Power her cat's name.

He shakes his head to dispel the thought threatening to emerge and focuses on the sight before him. A gentle faint smile emerges as he crosses his arms. "Looks like someone remembers you."

"As she should," Power says, and Denji's memory may be as riddled with holes as a slice of swiss cheese, but he knows he isn't imagining the congested hint to her voice. He doesn't think she's going to cry - he's only seen that happen once, after the loss that he's glad can't haunt her the way it does him no matter how much it aches to be the only one who remembers - but he knows she's probably keeping her head tilted down and away from him for a reason. Watching her scoop Nyako into her arms and bury her face in her fur, he decides to let her have this moment.

Besides, there's something else that he needs to do right now.

It was easy to miss Nayuta's approach over Nyako's excitement. However, Denji can't miss the way she hovers in the doorway, anxiety and hope written across her face in equal measure. He shoots one more glance at Power, who has dropped to her knees. When he's content that she's going to be occupied with her cat for a least a little while, he heads over to Nayuta.

"Hey," he says, crouching down in front of her.

"Is that Power?" Nayuta asks, peering at the devil over his shoulder.

Denji falters. It isn't surprising that she knows Power's name; he figured that Kishibe would tell her at least a little about what was going on. However, it isn't until now that he realizes that he never told her Power's name. That he couldn't bring himself to say it. It brings up an old, aching, healing sort of ache that lingers in the back of his mind as he says, "That's Power."

Nayuta looks back at Denji. "She came back for you."

"She did," Denji says, allowing himself to feel a tiny surge of triumph when he doesn't sound as choked up as he feels. He knows Power's probably gonna be a lost cause, be he doesn't need Nayuta growing up thinking he's some sort of loser.

"Is she going to stay with us?" Nayuta clasps her hands behind her back, and even though he can't see them, Denji knows that she's picking at her fingers. It firmly shoves any thoughts of his own coolness onto the back burner.

"I hope so." He hesitates for a moment, just long enough to put a tiny bit of thought into what he's about to say, before asking, "Would you like to meet her? She's a lot to handle at first, but she's a good person. I promise."

Nayuta's eyes drop down to her feet. She nibbles on her lower lips and fidgets. "Do you think..."

"There's only one way to find out." Denji holds his hand out. Nayuta hesitates for a little while longer before reaching out to take it.

Power is still kneeling on the floor with Nyako when Denji approaches her, Nayuta trailing after him. However, she's looked up, peering at him over the Nyako's fur. Nayuta's grip on his hand tightens when that intense yellow gaze darts over to her. Denji offers a reassuring squeeze back before saying, "Power, this is Nayuta."

It's almost impossible to gauge Power's reaction with most of her face hidden by Nyako. The slight narrowing of her eyes could mean way too many things for him to start making assumptions. Denji is about to gently prod her for a reaction when she releases Nyako from her grasp and stands up. Nayuta is leveled with a flat, unimpressed look before she crosses her arms and scoffs.

"She's small for the supposed Control Devil," Power declares.

And that. Isn't the reaction Denji had hoped for. But he also isn't sure what he hoped for, and although it's somewhat aggravating, it's also very typically Power. It isn't the worst thing she could have said. He can work with it.

"Well, yeah," Denji says. "She's a kid. What do you expect?"

Power snorts. "Children are not frightening. Especially this one."

"I'm not trying to frighten anyone," Nayuta murmurs.

That gives Power pause. She frowns and looks at Denji, then Nyako, who's still twining around her ankles, before settling on Nayuta again. "So what is your goal?"

"I don't... know?" Nayuta looks up at Denji. Denji, who feels way too overwhelmed and anxious about such an easy, domestic situation that he's pretty sure he knows how to handle. His heart is hammering full-boar, his tongue feels heavy, and he thinks he might be about to break out into some sort of sweat. He hopes that he at least looks mostly chill as he offers her a nod. If he doesn't, it's still good enough for Nayuta. She lets go of his hand and takes a step forward.

"I like to draw and play with the dogs," she offers Power, who is now looking at her with blatant puzzlement. "Denji says I'm going to college when I'm older. I don't know what I'm going to do yet, but... I hope it's something good."

"...That sounds very boring," Power says.

Nayuta glances back at Denji, who nods.

"I don't think so," she says, turning back to Power.

"That is because you require guidance, better than this fool can provide." A smug smirk crawls across Power's face. "You will never reach your full potential without me."

"Is that what you did with Denji?"

Denji is unable to prevent his, "Huh?"

"I know you're someone very important to him," Nayuta continues. "Were you his mentor?"

"Hey now," Denji begins, "That's not-"

"Right!" Power exclaims, beaming as she plants her hands on her hips. "I taught him everything he knows! He wouldn't be the person you see before you if not for me."

Nayuta nods in understanding. "Thank you. He's the best person I know."

There's a painful flutter of his heart, and any protest that Denji could have made dies on his tongue. There's no denying that some absolute nonsense being spewed, but there's also a heart of undeniable truth at its core. More importantly, Power's looking at Nayuta with joyful excitement, and he can hear the unease in Nayuta's tone being gradually replaced by admiration. If a little humiliation is what it takes for that to happen, well, he can suck it up. He's dealt with worse shit for less.

He thinks he could fight the entire fucking world if it would lead to this.

"Denji!" Power barks, snapping her head over to face him.

"Yeah?" he asks, and this time he doesn't even bother trying to sound normal. There's no point when what's happening is so, so much better than normal.

"I require sustenance. Fetch something for us to eat while I regale Nayuta with tales of my glory."

Maybe Denji should be annoyed by that. If he were a few months younger and his heart still a whole lot lighter, he probably would be. But right now, all he can feel is warmth . It takes the protests, grumbles, and accusations of rudeness and ego that he would have made once and turns them into, "What if I wanna be regaled too?"

"Then you'd better hurry!" Shifting her attention back to Nayuta, Power adds, "Show me a comfortable place to rest and we can begin."

Nayuta brightens. "We can turn the couch into a fort if we get some pillows and blankets from the closet."

"Yes! Show me! It shall be fort Power!"

Nayuta leads Power into the living room, Nyako racing after them.

As he watches them go, Denji wonders if this is just a happy dream.

If it is, he hopes that he doesn't wake up.

*

Denji orders sushi for dinner. Power rambles endlessly as they eat, a bunch of half-nonsensical stories that he's pretty sure are mostly bullshit. Nayuta is completely enraptured. Denji is content to let the words flow over him and get lost in the moment.

After dinner, he takes Power into the backyard and introduces her to the huskies. She crows in delight as she pets and tussles with the dogs. Her ultimate decision is that they are inferior to Nyako, but still enjoyable beasts, worthy of keeping around. Dirt stains her clothes and clings to her tangled hair by the time she says this, but Denji dismisses it as a battle for tomorrow. It's already late and he doesn't want to weigh the day down with the inevitable drama that is trying to re-introduce Power to the concept of showering.

The house has two bedrooms.

He moves Power's old futon into his room anyway. When he lays it down a few feet away from his and Nayuta's, she pushes the two together with a scoff.

Getting everyone settled down takes a few more hours, but eventually, he's laying down in a room full of huskies with a sister pressed up against him from either side. He doesn't think he's going to be getting to sleep anytime soon, but that's fine. The sound of Nayuta snoring in one of his ears and the feeling of Power's arm slung across his chest is more than enough. More than he had been willing to let himself believe he'd ever get again. How can he sleep when it might all disappear when he wakes?

Denji is focusing on memorizing the feeling, just in case he wakes up cold and alone, when Power whispers, "Denji?"

"Powy?" he murmurs, turning his head to find her staring up at him with wide, conflicted eyes. "What's wrong?"

She looks away. A moment of silence drags on before she admits, "I have not been completely honest with you."

This is it, the spike of anxiety that surges through Denji whispers. The other shoe is about to drop. Everything has been going too well, this is too happy of an ending. His dream is about to turn into a nightmare. A hundred horrible images flash through his mind, terrible secrets that will lead to blood and loss and horrors so like the ones will never be able to forget. He isn't able to keep the faint tremor out of his voice as he asks, "What is it?"

Power looks back at him. Her face is scared, but also determined. The face of someone trying to overcome whatever shit they're dealing with. It gives his pounding heart pause even before she speaks, and when she does, he finds that he's unable to breathe.

"You were never a stranger to me. Your scent, your voice... you were familiar from the moment I saw you. I didn't like it, so I misled you into believing I had forgotten you completely."

Denji can't breathe, but he can feel the air whooshing in and out of his lungs, and he still manages to whisper, "Power..."

"I do not remember anything else," she adds, wrenching her gaze away. She would never say it, but he thinks that what he sees play across her expression is shame. "I do not truly remember any of the things you described. Only impressions. I'm not lying to you now, but I don't know if there will ever be more than that."

Carefully, so as not to wake Nayuta, he twists onto his side and wraps his arms around Power. She lets out a startled squeak, but buries her face in his shoulder a second later.

"That's okay," he says. "I don't care that you fucked with me a bit, and I don't mind if you don't ever remember. Having you here is enough."

That's when it really hits him.

She's here.

He isn't going to wake up. She isn't going to disappear.

Denji fulfilled his contract after all.

"Welcome home, Power."