Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Denji is getting used to his new life.

It hasn't been easy. Weeks have passed, but there are still moments when he’ll say something to the empty air, expecting Power or Aki to respond. Sometimes he’ll hear a sound at the door, and for one irrational moment, he’ll think it’s them. Sometimes, in the moments before he drifts off to sleep, wrapped in the warmth of Nayuta and the dogs, he can imagine that they never went anywhere at all. That they’re both still with him.

The world feels brighter in those tiny moments. Then they pass, and the grief and loneliness are so strong that he thinks it could crush him.

It never does.

He can't afford to collapse. Meowy and the dogs need him to take care of them. Nayuta is depending on him.

Power and Aki would want him to keep living.

So he does just that. He buries the pain and drowns those desires as they rise to the surface, finding something- anything else to focus on. He plays with Nayuta and takes the dogs on walks. Anything that lets him ignore it for a little while longer as he carves out a life from the scraps. He goes to school, forces himself to do his homework, and saves money to put Nayuta through college. He does anything and everything that he needs to in order to keep going.

And when all else fails, there's always something for Chainsaw Man to kill.

It's coming together into something like a routine. Maybe it doesn't fill him with the same warmth as the one that he used to have, but it lets him keep his head above water. Sometimes it gets boring, but Denji knows very well that boredom is something to be appreciated.

That doesn't mean that he minds his routine being interrupted. Horrible surprises are horrible, obviously, but it's nice to be able to stay on his toes. He'd just prefer it if the interruptions happened at good, convenient times.

Denji doesn't know if he should be relieved or irritated when someone knocks on the door while he's knee-deep in algebra homework. On one hand, he's already put this particular worksheet off for too long and really needs to get it done. On the other hand, whoever decided that algebra was a thing that everyone needs to learn deserves to be taken into a shady alley and stabbed.

"Hey, Nayuta," he says, wearily looking up at the girl sitting across from him.

"Do you want me to get the door?" she asks, already setting her book down on the table and rising to her feet.

"Nah," Denji says, shaking his head. "But..." He slides his worksheet across the table toward her. "How do you feel about giving this a shot?"

Nayuta narrows her eyes. "I don't need extra math homework," she says.

"Yeah, I know, you're good at it." Denji wiggles his worksheet like a tasty treat held out to a super nerdy cat. "That's why I'm giving it to ya."

Nayuta's eyes narrow further. They're tiny, judgmental golden slits as she grabs the worksheet. They widen as she reads the problems over, her lips parting in a tiny 'o' before pressing together in a stiff line. "You should do your own homework," she declares, slamming the sheet back down on the table in front of him.

"Ah, shit." Denji braces his hands against the floor and leans back with a sigh. "It's too advanced for you, isn't it?"

"No!" Nayuta exclaims in the shrill, frantic tone that means she's definitely lying. "It's easy! But you'll never learn if I do your homework for you!"

The corners of Denji's lips twitch up into the beginnings of a shit-eating grin. "Or, if you're so smart, you could do my homework and-"

Another knock sounds from the door, louder and more insistent. Denji turns his head to stare at it dully. "I forgot about that," he mutters. He heaves a sigh as he stands up. When Nayuta moves to follow him, he holds up a hand and shakes his head. "Stay here," he says. "We don't know if it's bad news."

"But if you're going to fight, I wanna see," Nayuta protests.

"I'm not fighting in here! It'd wreck the apartment!" Denji exclaims. "If anything happens, I'm gonna take it outside. You can watch through the window."

"But-"

The person at the door knocks again. "I'm coming!" Denji calls.

With one last commanding look at Nayuta, he walks to the front of the house and opens the door.

The haggard face of Kishibe greets him. That in itself is nothing unusual, but the guy looks even more worn down than usual. Denji blinks up at him and opens his mouth, but before he can get a word out, something small rockets forward and slams into his legs, sending him tumbling to the floor with a squawk.

"Who are you!?" a high-pitched, exuberant voice demands.

"Denji?" Nayuta calls from the other room.

"For fuck's sake," Kishibe grumbles.

"What do you taste like!?" the voice continues. It's familiar in a way that Denji can't place, yet makes his heart ache with unyielding ferocity. He struggles to make sense of what he's seeing. He's pretty sure it's a kid that's straddling his chest now, a tiny bundle of blonde hair and bright red horns. Their flailing makes it almost impossible for him to catch a glimpse of their face, but when he does, he feels his heart stop.

And then he feels tiny teeth sink into the flesh of his arm.

"Alright, enough of that," Kishibe says, pretty calm considering the chaos unfolding before him. He steps forward, grabs Denji's assailant by the shoulder, and hauls her off of him.

"Unhand me, old man!" the child screeches.

There's a stream of blood running down his arm, but he doesn't give a damn. He can't tear his gaze away from the child flailing in Kishibe's grasp. His body's movements feel like a separate, disconnected thing as he slowly stands back up. The throbbing of the bite on his arm is barely even registered. All he can feel is the beating of his heart, gone from a standstill to pounding at a mile a minute, and the way his breath hitches in his throat as he asks, "I-is that...?"

Kishibe opens his mouth, only to pause, eyes flickering toward the living room. Denji reluctantly follows his gaze to find Nayuta standing in the hallway, eyes hard and angry. "Who is that?" she demands, pointing at the girl who's still flailing like a wild thing in Kishibe's arms.

"Unhand me or face my wrath!" the girl demands. Denji wishes she would stay still. He wants to get a better look at her, to figure out if he's really seeing what he doesn't dare hope he's seeing. Unfortunately, he can't afford to look at her at all right now, because Nayuta looks like she's about to bring the chains out.

"Nayuta, go back into the living room," Denji says, and he's trying for serious and commanding, but he sounds just as shocked as he feels. It's kinda pathetic, but it doesn't matter. All that matters is that Nayuta listens to him and lets him get a handle on... whatever this is. Because he can't be lucky enough for it to be what he wishes it were, but if it is- If it is -

"You're bleeding!" Nayuta cries, shifting that dangerously pointing finger to him. Good. She can point all she likes, he knows that she'd never use her powers on him even if she could. "Did she bite you!?"

"Yeah, but it's fine." He offers Nayuta a shaky smile, which he promptly shifts his head to shadow Kishibe, who's watching the scene play out like a hawk with trust issues. "I can handle way worse than a little biting." Turning back to Nayuta, he adds, "Go wait in the living room. I'll handle this."

He knows that Nayuta's going to protest. There's no way that she isn't going to protest, and the scowl that inches across her face practically confirms it. However, she drops her hand back down to her side, which tells him that he's won even before she begins, "But-"

"Nayuta. Please?" Denji asks.

Nayuta hesitates. Her scowl deepens when she glances at the still-fighting child, only to soften marginally when she looks back at Denji's pleading face. "If she tries to kill you, I'll get revenge," she vows.

"If I get killed by a kid, I want you to tell everyone that it was the Yakuza," Denji says.

"I'll say one of the dogs ate you. It's what you would deserve for being stupid." Nayuta shoots one last glare at the other child before stalking off into the living room.

And just like that, Denji is alone with Kishibe and the little girl.

For a moment, the world stands still. He knows that he should do something. Standing around like a moron doesn't do anything for anyone. If he waits too long, Kishibe will start talking again, and then all of the cards will be in the old man's hand. Kinda. He already holds all the cards anyway, but Denji will feel that much smaller and helpless if he waits for him to restart the conversation. It wouldn't even be hard. All he has to do is step forward and ask who that kid is and why he brought her to him.

...No, it would be hard. Right now, that is the hardest question in the world. It's hard because he knows who he wants that little girl to be. It's hard because hope has wrapped itself so painfully tight around him, it's guaranteed to crush his heart if he is wrong. It's hard because as he looks at that flailing child with her long blonde hair and bright red horns, he knows that if she isn't her, it will feel like losing her all over again.

But if he doesn't take the chance, he'll also be giving up the chance to get her back.

An infuriated cry from the girl pulls Denji out of his own head and gives him the push he needs to do what he needs to. His eyes never leave the girl as he takes a step forward and asks, hoarse and breathless, "Is that...?"

The girl freezes. Then her eyes snap up to Denji, a pair of bright yellow and orange crosses that he knows better than he knows his own.

Denji's heart stops.

"Power...?" he whispers.

"How do you know my name!?" Power demands.

Denji's knees wobble as his legs threaten to give out beneath him. It's with a conscious effort that he drags his gaze up to Kishibe when the old man says, "We found her roughing it in the woods. It doesn't look like she remembers anything, but-"

"Unhand me!" Power demands once again, trying and failing to pull her arm out of Kishibe's grasp. "I must inter- interro- I have questions to ask of this silly thing!"

Kishibe makes a dismissive noise. "If I let you go, you'll just bite him again!"

"I will do no such thing!" Power cries.

It's an obvious lie, but Denji doesn't care. "You can let her go," he says. He doesn't mean to whisper, but he doesn't have it in him to manage anything else.

Kishibe shoots him an odd look, but obediently releases Power's arm.

She runs over to Denji without a second of hesitation. Tiny hands reach out to grab at his bloody arm. Before she can make contact, Denji crouches down to her level. Power pulls her hands back, staring at him with a puzzled frown. Denji stares back, taking in the features that are so very familiar, yet so very young . The Power he knew looked like she was about his age. The little girl before him is even younger than Nayuta. She's about seven or eight years old, if he had to guess.

Power abruptly reaches out and slaps her palms against his cheeks. Denji blinks, but doesn't pull back.

"Do I know you?" she demands.

Denji's breath hitches. His eyes dart toward Kishibe, whose expression has shifted into one of open surprise. He only wastes a second looking at him before turning his attention back to Power. 

"Yeah," he croaks.

"How?"

"In your last life. We were-" Family. "-Friends." Denji's throat is growing tighter by the second, yet he still forces himself to talk. He needs to say this before he can wake up and find that this is just a dream. He needs to tell her on the off chance that this is somehow, miraculously, real. "We had a contract."

"What sort of contract?"

"You-" Helped me? No, she did so much more than that, and she deserves to know it, even if he wouldn't dare tell the full, terrible truth to a child so young. "You saved me, and I promised that I'd be your friend in this life too."

"So... you are my servant?"

Denji smiles. It's a weak, wobbly thing that feels like it could break his face in two. "Friends are way better than servants."

Power doesn't look particularly convinced, her nose wrinkling and her mouth twisting into a frown. Her lips part, only for her to let out a surprised squeak and pull her hands back. "Why are you crying!?"

"Am I...?"

Denji lifts a shaking hand to his cheek. It comes away wet with tears.

His smile doesn't fall.

"Ah, shit," he says. Now that he knows he's crying, he can hear the way his voice wobbles, the sobs. "Sorry, it's just..." His smile falls. Holding back the sobs goes from being a struggle to a monumental effort. "...It's really good to see you again."

Power turns her head to shoot Kishibe an uncertain look. He offers her a small nod.

"You really missed me that much?" she asks, turning back to Denji.

"I really did," Denji whispers.

Something breaks in him. There is no thought as he reaches forward and pulls Power into his arms. There is only the cauterizing ache in his chest, the sob tearing free from his throat, and the feeling of her in his arms, tiny and warm and alive.

His heart leaps into his throat when small arms wrap around his waist and Power's face nuzzles against his neck, the tips of her horns brushing against his ear.

"Careful," Kishibe warns. "She's going to-"

Power bites the side of his neck.

Denji closes his eyes, tears dripping down his face, and laughs. "Welcome home," he whispers.

*

Once Denji pulls himself back together, the rest of the day passes in a rushed, blurry haze. Leaving Power alone isn't an option, which means that he doesn't get the chance to have a serious talk with Kishibe. The old man tells him the basic info that he needs to know about Power before making his retreat. It honestly feels kind of cowardly of him. Denji can't bring himself to care. It's not like he could have said anything that would make suddenly having two rambunctious little girls any easier. It's not like there's anything he could say that could convince Denji not to take Power in. Quite frankly, he could have dumped her on his doorstep and left without a word and the result would have been the same.

All Denji cares about is that she's back.

...Okay, that's not true. There's also the other little girl who it's his job to care about. If Power is the reason that the first night is chaotic, then Nayuta's the one who makes him feel like he's walking on glass. He can feel her protective, possessive glare boring into the side of Power's head even when he's not looking. And he's constantly looking. It feels like he's looking back at Nayuta every five seconds, staying alert for chains, rising tempers, and any sign that the Control Devil is about to lash out at the new, unfamiliar, unwanted occupant of her home.

She doesn't.

That first night isn't an easy one. Power is a constant stream of questions. At no point does she ask one of the questions that he's dreading. No, most of the things that leave her mouth are pointless, inane, and generally no skin off Denji's back. He still starts to get tired out after a while. Worse, Nayuta's irritation starts to visibly worsen, which is a recipe for trouble.

Denji cuts Power off by offering her dinner. This creates a whole new set of problems. Apparently, Kishibe didn't bother introducing her to food other than raw meat and blood before dropping her off with him. It takes Denji a solid half an hour to convince her to try the chicken katsu he ordered. By the time she takes her first bite, Nayuta is already done and casting her an imperious, judgmental glower. It's a small miracle that Power doesn't notice and pick a fight. It's a bigger miracle that Nayuta doesn't start one herself.

The biggest miracle of all is that Power gets tired soon after eating.

A tired Power is a less fussy Power. She allows herself to be corraled into the bedroom, where Denji settles her into the futon. As he sits down beside her, he can't help but feel a little guilty. She's still wearing the same clothes that Kishibe dropped her off in. Her teeth haven't been brushed. Her hair is on the verge of becoming a wild, tangled mess.

He knows that the first two are things that can't be helped. Power doesn't have any stuff of her own yet, and he knows better than to ask Nayuta to share hers. As for the hair... well, that's Denji's fault, but he knows where and why he went wrong. Nayuta normally combs her hair without being asked. As he watches Power wriggle in her attempts to get comfortable under the blankets, he knows that it isn't going to be the same for her. She barely combed her hair when she was his age. Half the time, Aki had to nag her about it. There's no way in hell that she's going to take care of it on her own now that she's a kid.

He's pulled out of his thoughts by an abrupt, "Denji?"

"Yeah?" he looks down at Power, who's staring up at him with wide yellow eyes and a thoughtful frown. How do her eyes look so much bigger when her head's so much smaller?

"Am I going to have to fight Nayuta?" she asks.

"Nah," Denji says, and it's not a lie. It's not, because he'd sooner take a knife to the chest than let those two get violent with each other. Even if he makes a thousand other mistakes, he isn't going to let Power and Nayuta end up as enemies. This is one thing that he can't afford to fuck up.

Power doesn't look convinced. "Then why is she hoarding the dogs to herself?"

"'Cause she isn't ready for bed yet and she wants their company. Duh."

This part is a lie. Nayuta insisted on keeping the dogs in the living room with her because she's protective of them and doesn't trust Power yet. It's a truth that isn't worth telling. It'll only upset Power, and he's going to take care of it anyway.

The good news is that Power doesn't see through his fib. The bad news is that she pouts . It's a lot like the sulky look her older self got when she didn't get her way, except instead of just being sad and pathetic, it makes Denji feel like a failure, which is just cruel, unusual, and all-around unfair.

"But I wish to sleep with a beast," Power murmurs.

"Yeah, well..." The door creaks open ever so slightly. A grin spreads across Denji's face as gentle paws steps pad across the room. "How do you feel about a cat?"

"A cat?"

Power's question is answered by Meowy jumping up onto her stomach. She wastes no time in ramming his face against her chin, a loud, rumbling purr emanating from her chest. Power raises a hand to lace her fingers through thick, fluffy fur. "Meowy..." she whispers.

Denji blinks. "Did I tell you her name?"

Power doesn't answer. Her attention is completely absorbed by the cat sprawled across her chest, purring and kneading biscuits. Denji thinks that he should probably get up and check on Nayuta.

He doesn't move.

The minutes tick by. Power's eyes flutter closed. Eventually, the sound of gentle snoring fills the room. Denji stays sitting there, staring at her, absorbing her features, and trying to wrap his head around the fact that this is actually real.

He still hasn't processed it by the time the door is pushed open. However, he knows better than to try to push this off.

"I'm comin'," he sighs, rising to his feet.

Denji follows Nayuta down the hall. As they pass the living room, he glimpses the dogs curled up in a pile, most of them already asleep. "They'd be more comfortable in the bedroom, y'know," he remarks.

"I don't want them around that devil. She'll probably bite them," Nayuta grumbles.

"But you're okay letting Meowy around her?"

Nayuta freezes, one foot raised in the air, and turns to shoot Denji an alarmed look."Meowy's with her?"

"Aaah..." Denji rubs the back of his neck. "Don't worry about it."

'Don't worry about it' is a good sentiment, but not enough to pull him out of his latest fuckup. 

Nayuta's expression morphs into a thunderous scowl. "If she hurts her, I'm going to-"

"-She's not going to hurt her. Trust me." This is a dangerous situation, one that he needs to deal with carefully, but he still feels something soft fluttering in his chest as he says, "No one cares about Meowy more than Power. She was her cat in the first place."

"What?" Nayuta asks, anger briefly dispelled as she blinks in confusion that Makima had never experienced once in her life Or maybe she had, but had never let her control slip for long enough to let it show.

"Come on," Denji says, walking back Nayuta and into the kitchen. "Sit down and I'll explain."

"I don't know what there is to explain," Nayuta grumbles as she trails after him. "I don't want her living with us."

Denji has to fight to avoid scowling. She's a kid, he reminds himself. She's a kid who doesn't know how important Power is to him, what she did for him, or what it means to have her back. She's a kid who doesn't understand why the Control Devil has no right to say that the Blood Devil doesn't belong in this household. He is not going to snap at her or get mean or any of that shit.

However, it comes out a little tight and strained when he says, "Well, tough shit."

Nayuta doesn't say anything at first. The screech of a chair being dragged over linoleum tells him that she's sitting down. Denji allows himself to feel a brief burst of relief as he heads over to the cabinets and pulls out the teapot, strainer, and leaves. There's enough going on in his head that he isn't sure that he'll be able to make a good cup of tea, but really, it doesn't matter if it's good. He just wants two cups of warm strong-smelling liquid for them to hold. Even if he doesn't fuck it up, it still won't be as good as Aki's, it can never be as good as Aki's, but as long as it helps them calm down a little, it's fine.

He's halfway through brewing the tea when Nayuta pipes back up. "I can make her leave."

Denji's shoulders stiffen. "You won't."

It's impossible to describe his tone as he says those words. They're a plea, they're a command, they're a promise, they're the closest thing to an order that he's ever tried to give to Nayuta. He doesn't look back to see how she takes it, and his breath gets caught in his chest as silence hangs heavily over the room.

"I should, " Nayuta says, subdued and sullen. "She bit you."

Denji fills two mugs with tea. The odor is pungent enough to be almost bitter, far from the rich herbal scents that would come from Aki's brews, but Nayuta never got to try his tea, so it's not like she knows the difference. "She's a kid. And the Blood Devil." He wraps his hands around the mugs, hesitates, and reaches into the cabinet to grab the honey pot. He adds a dollop to each mug, because even if Nayuta won't know the difference, he will. If he adds enough honey, it'll be like he's making his own recipe and not fucking up one of Aki's. "She's gonna bite. It doesn't mean she's a bad person."

Nayuta is giving him an odd, two-sided look when he turns around. The sight of it makes a lump wedge itself in his throat uncomfortably. Half of the look is suspicion, which is fine. It's irritating and means that he's probably going to have more problems to deal with, but he can deal with them. The sadness and worry is what catches him off-guard, stirs up his insides, and makes him feel like a crappy caretaker.

Makima never looked at him like that. He wonders if she ever cared about anyone enough to look at them like that. He wonders if she ever got the chance.

"You still haven't taken care of the bites," Nayuta points out.

Denji looks down at his arm and the exposed bitemark, blood still crusted around the edges. When he sets one of the mugs down in front of Nayuta, he raises his free hand to finger the bite wound on his neck. It's still slowly oozing with blood.

Suddenly having another child in her home was always going to be difficult for Nayuta. Having it be a child like Power only makes it that much more challenging. And it's Denji's job to make sure he does right by both of them. It's a big, difficult thing that can't be solved with chainsaws, and if he didn't care about them both so much, it would make him want to curl up in a ball and ignore it. But as he takes in Nayuta's anxious gaze, it becomes a little less scary, if only because he knows where to start.

"I'll take care of 'em before I go to bed," Denji promises as he sits down across from Nayuta. "I'll get her to stop biting too, if it'll make you feel better."

He should... probably do that anyway, actually.

"Can you do that?" Nayuta asks.

"Yeah," Denji says, even though what he means is 'probably'. It was hard enough to coax Power out of some of her more feral habits when she was first dropped on him and Aki. They managed back then, but he has no idea whether her being a child now will make it easier or harder to repeat the process. He hopes that it will be easier, but if it isn't... well, it's not like he has any choice but to figure something out, is it? Finding ways for her to go out and socialize with other kids and shit without revealing that she's a devil is already going to be hard enough. He can't have her trying to drink people's blood all the time. Even if it doesn't cause devil problems, it will definitely lead to a bunch of annoying conversations.

Oh god, he's going to have to figure education shit out for both girls now, isn't he?

Oh fuck, how's he going to get Power settled down while he also has to deal with his own classes? He'll have to take off for a while and try his best not to fall behind. His best won't be good enough, of course, but as long as he doesn't get kicked out, it's fine. He probably won't be able to get away with taking off for more than a week, but if he works his ass off, a week might be all he needs.

"You don't look confident," Nayuta says.

"I'm plenty confident!" Denji takes a swig from his honey-laden tea, sets the mug down, and offers Nayuta a beaming grin. "See! I've got this under control."

Nayuta frowns, looking down in her own tea for a moment, and then looks back up. "I could just make her-" 

"No," Denji says, pressing his lips into a thin line. "Don't control her. For anything. At all. Ever."

Nayuta tilts her head to the side. "Why do you care about this girl so much?"

“It’s a long story,” Denji says, even though he knows that he’s going to need to tell it anyway. It’s just a matter of figuring out a way to tell it without getting into the stuff that he isn’t ready for her to learn yet. He just needs a few more minutes to find the right words.

“Who is she to you?” Nayuta tries again.

"She's family," Denji says. And with that, it all slots into place. "Nayuta, how much do you know about the people I used to live with?"

"Nothing," she says. "You never talk about them."

"Oh. Right." There's an odd pang in Denji's chest. He can't tell if it's guilt or just more of the ache that he feels whenever he thinks about his life with Power and Aki. He raises his mug to his lips and takes a swig to drown out what's taken hold of his insides. It isn't a good choice; despite all the honey, nothing can conceal how much it doesn't taste like Aki's. Denji sets the cup back down before he's finished swallowing his mouthful.

"Well, I'm talking about them now," he says. "Back when I worked in public safety, I lived with two of my co-workers. Their names were Power and Aki."

"You've been calling the devil Power," Nayuta recalls with an edge of understanding and suspicion.

Denji touches his finger to his nose. "Bingo! Power was the Blood Fiend. The girl Kishibe brought today is her reincarnation."

Nayuta wrinkles her nose. She doesn't even try to disguise her judgment as she asks, "You're letting that gremlin live with us because she used to be your coworker?"

"No," Denji sighs. "I..." He shouldn't have said 'co-worker'. But 'co-worker' is an easy word, while 'family' feels like sticking a knife in a wound that's already bleeding. Thinking about it makes him want to get up and rush down the hall, to make sure that Power's really there and get rid of the feeling that he's losing them all over again. Nayuta's disgruntled expression warns him that he needs to stay put. If he wants things to go well in the future, he needs to take care of this now. Which means making sure that Nayuta understands what Power is to him.

So Denji takes in a deep breath and tries again. His voice wants to wobble, but he doesn't let it. He wants to look away, but he makes sure that his gaze stays locked on Nayuta. "They were a lot more than co-workers. They were the first family I ever had. Aki was... he was kind of like what I am to you. And Power..." His eyes are burning. He blinks to force the tears back before they can get anywhere close to falling. "She was rude, obnoxious, wild, and sucked a lot in a lot of ways. And she was fun. Having her in my life made it better."

Nayuta looks down at her tea. He can see the way her lips twist into a frown once again. This time, it is more sad than angry. He's selfishly grateful that she's gotten rid of any sadness that might have made its way into her eyes by the time she looks back up and asks, "They died, right?"

"Yeah. They died."

"How?"

Nayuta is staring at him with wide, swirling yellow eyes.

They aren't Makima's eyes, but he still looks down into his tea as he's forced to think back.

"Being a devil hunter was really important to Aki. There was this super strong devil that he really wanted to kill, and he gave up a lot trying to do it." Too much. "Things went wrong, and he reached a point he couldn't come back from." Because I couldn't save him.

"So a devil killed him?"

"Something like that."

Denji's hand tightens around the handle of his mug. Then he takes in a deep breath, forces himself not to think about bullets and all the things he should have done differently, and tries to focus on the portion of the story that is actually relevant.

"Power died to save me," he continues. "I was in a fight I couldn't win, so she made a contract with me." He forces himself to look back up at this point. Where Makima would be gazing at him impassively, Nayuta is curious and riveted. It makes it easier to remind himself that she isn't her as he stares into familiar golden eyes and says, "She gave me in blood, and I promised to be her friend in the next life as well."

"So you're going to let her live with us," Nayuta says, crossing her arms and slumping back in her seat.

Denji shakes his head. "No. I'd let her live with us even if we'd never made the contract. I..." His hand flexes against the coffee mug. He tries not to be too much of a broken-up mess around Nayuta, but with each exchange, he feels his will dissolving like the honey in his teacup. There's a fierce stinging behind his eyes. Although he manages to keep them from welling up for what seems like the millionth time, his wavering voice betrays him when he admits, "I can't lose her again."

A fraught look crosses Nayuta's face. After a few moments, she uncrosses her arms, looks downward and grumbles, "But even you said that she sucks."

"Yeah, well, I suck too." Denji unwraps stiff fingers from around the mug and tentatively reaches out to take Nayuta's hand. She glances back up at him. "Nayuta, how would you feel if it was me?"

Nayuta hesitates, eyes casting down. "I will let her stay for your sake. But I'm not happy about it."

Denji manages a weak smile. "I think you'll change your mind after you get to know her. You've got a lot in common."

Nayuta's head snaps up. She tugs her hand out of his grasp and demands, "Are you saying that I suck!?"

"Eeeh..." Denji holds his hand up and waves it from side to side. "A bit."

"Take that back!" Nayuta demands, slapping the table.

Denji leans back and folds his arms behind his head. "How 'bout you show me that you can get along with Power, then I see about taking it back?"

Nayuta narrows her eyes, hand dragging over the table to flop gracelessly off the side. "...Your opinion doesn't mean that much to me anyway," she sniffs unconvincingly.

"C'mon, please?" Denji begs, dropping his arms back down. "It'd mean a lot to me."

"...You'll get her to stop biting?"

"Swear on my life."

"Fine." Nayuta sighs like the most put-upon being in existence. Denji tactfully doesn't comment on how it reminds him of Power. "I'll try to get along with the Blood Devil."

Denji smiles. "Thank you, Nayuta."

Chapter Text

Denji doesn't sleep that night. 

First, he spends an hour creating a makeshift bed for Nayuta. She refuses to sleep with Power, but doesn't want to spend the night in the spare room. He doesn't remember that they have a spare futon rolled up in the closet until he's already finished assembling a mountain of blankets and pillows for her. 

Next, he makes sure to stay up until she's asleep. It's not that Denji doesn't trust her to keep her word. Nayuta may be a problem child, but she's an honest problem child. If she says that she's going to give Power a chance, then she will. The problem is that she and Power are both loud personalities and it's easy to forget about difficult promises in the heat of a moment. Scenarios run amok in Denji's mind; what if he falls asleep and Power wakes up before Nayuta, what if they fight over Meowy and someone gets hurt, what will he do if they can't bond, what if Power remembers...

Shaking his head, he scratches the back of his head and yawns. Everything thats happened has left him scrambled apparently. He doesn’t believe the chance of all hell breaking loose is that high, but he isn't willing to risk it. I'll be better if he goes to bed after both girls are asleep and wakes up before they do.

Except that doesn't happen. Nayuta's eyes close and her breathing evens out into the steady rhythm of deep sleep. The sight would fill him with warmth if it weren't so jarring, Denji felt more awake now than he could ever remember. Exhaustion can't hold a candle to whatever battle his mind is waging, no individual thought can be made out from the flurry. As time ticks by, it settles into a single, fragile feeling that has him staring transfixed at Power.

Her back is turned to him, offering him little to look at. Not that it’s easy to look anyway. Darkness cloakes every inch of the room, forcing his eyes shut periodically to adjust. 

She used to be so terrified of this. The window in the room offers no significant light source... old Power would've forced him to keep the lights on, rambling mindlessly about how Darkness was inching further to drag them all back-

A soft murmur erupts from the bundle next to him as Power's body turns automatically toward his. Her face suddenly in full view, he strains his eyes as he tries to take in the familiar features, as well as those of her sudden youth. He wants to hold her tight and promise that he'll keep her safe this time. The fear of waking her up keeps him from moving an inch or saying a word. 

Sunlight comes streaming in through the window before he knows it. 

Denji sits up slowly. The movement still alerts Power to some degree. She rolls over, a tiny sound of protest leaving her lips.

Denji goes stiff as a statue.

Power relaxes back into the futon with a gentle murmur.

Anxiety releases its grip on Denji's chest, allowing him to let out a long, soft breath of relief.

The way he sees it, the situation with Power and Nayuta is like one of those damn chemistry lessons that he's no good at. There is a way to do it so that everything will end up alright. The trouble is that if he does things out of order, moves too fast, or lets his stupidity seize control of his brain, something's going to end up on fire. Possibly one of the girls. Probably only metaphorically, but also maybe literally, depending on how difficult little Power ends up being. Either way, he wants to avoid it.

Getting some time alone with Nayuta before Power wakes up sounds like a good first step in making sure things don't explode in his face. As long as she isn't too pissy about being woken up at sunrise, that is.

Eh. If she is, he can deal. She's probably going to be pissy for a while no matter what he does. Having another child in the house is going to be a rough adjustment for her even if she ends up liking Power. He'll be lucky if she cares about his feelings enough just to be pissy and not outright mad. And if she is mad at him... Well, he can deal with that too.

He carefully picks his way around the trio of sleeping huskies in between the futon and Nayuta's pile of blankets and pillows. Denji's lips curl up as he crouches down beside her. Nayuta wrapped herself tightly in one of the thinner blankets, leaving only a mess of black hair visible from the top. A little Control Devil burrito.

"Hey," he whispers, reaching out to gently shake a bony protrusion that he's pretty sure is her shoulder. "Nayuta, wake up."

A groan emits from the burrito. It's not a promising sound. Thankfully, Denji's saved from having to pester her again by the dog curled up at Nayuta's side. He woke up at his approach. At the sound of Nayuta waking, he jumps to his feet and scrambles over to her, shoving his face into her cocoon in a cacophony of snorts and pants.

The devil burrito flails in surprise. It rolls over, and a second later, the blanket peels back a few inches to reveal a single golden-orange eye. "Whaaaat?" Nayuta groans.

"Come make breakfast with me," Denji says.

Nayuta pulls her blanket down enough to reveal her disapproving frown. It might be intimidating if her hair wasn't a giant rat's nest and she wasn't blinking sleep out of her eyes. And, you know, if she wasn't a little kid. With all those factors combined, she looks more like a muppet than a person right now. She still manages to incorporate quite an indignant tone when she asks, "Why should I?"

"'Cause I might mess something up without a supervisor."

"You don't need a supervisor for this," comes Nayuta's disapproving grumble. "'M not stupid."

Denji sighs. Right. Clearly he keeps forgetting she's too old for these kind of excuses, he needs to try a different strategy.

"I'll make taiyaki if you get up with me," he tries instead.

Nayuta sits up. Her expression is considering, but there's a glimmer in her eyes that tells him he's got her hook, line, and sinker.

"Braid my hair too," she says after a moment.

"Sure," Denji replies. Truth is, he was going to do that anyway, but he isn't going to say no to some extra leverage.

"I want you to take a long time brushing it," Nayuta demands as he stands up.

"With how-" Denji cuts himself out and glances back at Power. Once he's assured himself that she's still sleeping, he turns back to Nayuta, lowers his voice back down, and continues, "With how big of a mess you've made of it, I'm going to have to take a long time."

Nayuta crawls out of her blanket pile. She stands up at her full height, holds herself like it's something impressive, and scowls up at him. "It w-"

"Shhh!" Denji interrupts, glancing back at Power once again.

Nayuta's scowl has deepened when he looks back at her. For one terrifying moment, he's terrified that she's going to talk louder just to spite him. He's tempted to bend down and hug her when she reluctantly sighs and lowers her voice before continuing, "It wouldn't be messy if she hadn't been on the futon."

"I'll have a futon for both of you tonight," he swears. That means that he'll be the one sleeping on the blanket pile tonight. It'll suck a bit, but there's no real avoiding it. He knows better than to expect Nayuta to let him sleep with Power again, and he probably shouldn't be sending any sort of messages by choosing one girl over the other anyway. Theoretically, he could just buy a third futon for himself, but realistically, he's going to be spending way too much money today anyway.

Whatever. Power's worth any amount of money. He can just cut way back on what he spends on himself for a few months to make up for it. Eventually, he'll be able to afford to get himself a futon. In the meantime, he can deal. He's slept in way worse places than blanket-covered floors.

"Come on," he whispers, quietly padding out of the kitchen. "Let's get cooking."

*

Denji ends up doing Nayuta's hair before starting on breakfast. It's another one of those strategic, chemistry-type decisions. He's pretty sure that he can keep cooking if Power wakes up before he can finish, but he doesn't know if he'll be able to brush and braid Nayuta's hair. Besides, having her hair done helps calm her down. He needs her calm this morning.

Okay, maybe it helps calm him down a little bit, too. He could also use some calming down.

They don't talk while he works. Nayuta leans back in the chair, tilting her head back and leaning into the touch of the brush. Denji doesn't realize how much tension he's built up until he feels it fall away with each knot eased out. A tiny smile blooms across his face when he finishes brushing and starts working his fingers through her hair to make the brain. His heart twinges when he wraps the hair tie around the end to hold it together.

Sometimes, when Nayuta has her hair braided, she reminds him of Makima. That's part of why he started braiding it in the first place. He doesn't look at her and see the Control Devil who tried to kill him; he looks at her and thinks of the lonely woman that public safety created. He looks at her and wonders about who Makima might have been if things had been different.

Denji braids Nayuta's hair and remembers why it's so important that he does right by her.

He gets started on breakfast as soon as he's done with Nayuta's hair. First, he starts on the anko filling for the taiyaki. He knows that it tastes best when made from scratch. The few times Aki made it, he did all the steps the way you were supposed to and it tasted amazing. But making anko from scratch means soaking hard red beans in water for hours and then spending ages boiling them in sugar, and even if Denji had that sort of time, Nayuta doesn't have that sort of patience. Pre-softened red beans in a can will have to do. They will do; it's another one of those situations where Nayuta doesn't have the frame of reference to know what she's missing.

Something about the crack of the can opening makes Denji wonder if Power will be able to tell that something's wrong. He quickly shoves the thought down, never to see the light of day.

Using canned beans doesn't make the sugar boil any faster. He stares down into the pot for about three minutes before he starts to get bored. Rather than standing around like a moron, he starts pulling the ingredients for the pancake batter out of the shelves, only for Nayuta to say, "It's gonna burn."

Denji looks over at her with a frown. "Whaddya mean?" he asks. "It's not anywhere close to boiling yet."

"Sugar heats up quickly. If you don't stir it while it's boiling, it'll burn." Nayuta says this with all of the pretentious confidence of someone who knows how to cook. She doesn't. She's burned oatmeal before; Denji watched her do it. Granted, giving her the opportunity to cook and summarily burn oatmeal probably wasn't his smartest move, but the fact remains that she's the one who burned it.

"Who died and made you a chef?" Denji demands. Hoping that his silly accusation distracts her enough from how he's walking back to the stove to do just that. It is not because he thinks she knows how to cook better than him. It's just... now that she says something, he thinks that's how Aki made it, and he definitely knew how to cook better than Denji.

Nayuta would definitely like his cooking better. And Power-

"Someone doesn't need to die for you to become a chef," Nayuta says.

"How do you know?" Denji argues. "Maybe there are only so many chef slots in the world, and if someone wants to become one, an old one has to die."

The sugar is starting to melt now, and it's melting fast. Stirring was definitely the right call - not that he's going to tell Nayuta that.

"That's not how it works!" the devil in question exclaims, her pitch rising with the fervor of someone who knows that they're right but doesn't know enough about the subject to properly defend their argument.

"How do you know? Did a chef tell you?" Denji turns his head to grin cheekily at Nayuta. "How do you know he wasn't trying to hide his dirty secret?"

"I know because I'm not stupid!"

Denji pulls his wooden spoon, covered in globs of clumpy sugar-bean paste, out of the pot and points it at Nayuta. "Hey! You calling me stupid?" he demands.

"Only because you're acting stupid!"

"Who's acting stupid?" a drowsy voice mumbles. Two sets of eyes turn toward the tiny, red-horned blonde lingering in the doorway. None of the dogs have followed her out of the bedroom, allowing for her silent approach, but Meowy is twining around her ankles. Power doesn't so much as glance at either of them or the cat, one tiny hand scrubbing at her bleary eyes.

Nayuta shoots Denji a frantic look.

Denji nods, trying not to look too much like he's pleading, but unable to help it.

Nayuta purses her lips, looks down, and slouches down in her seat with a sigh. "...Denji," she mutters. "Denji's acting like an idiot."

Power drops her hand down to her side and blinks. "Oh," she says. "That makes sense."

Denji should be offended. Actually, fuck that, he is offended. He just can't afford to do anything about it, not when Nayuta's trying to play nice. There's a tension in the air that feels like it will shatter into a disaster if he so much as moves. So he just stands there and watches the scene play out, hoping for the best while he mentally prepares for the-

Actually, no. He isn't going to prepare for the worst. He doesn't need it. Nayuta said that she'd give Power a chance and he trusts her to keep her word. Power could be a prickly little brat even when she was his own age, but that didn't stop her from becoming his best friend and so much more. They'll make it work. Denji knows that they'll make it work.

That doesn't do anything to make it easier for him to breathe.

Nayuta stares at Power for a moment, uncertain and judgmental, before making a noise that's somewhere between a snort and a scoff. "Denji's a silly little fool, but you don't know him well enough to know that."

Power walks over to the table and pulls out a chair. The legs screech loudly against the floor. Power is completely oblivious, but Nayuta winces. Fortunately, although she shoots Denji an unhappy look, she doesn't complain about it.

"I don't need to know him to be able to tell," Power announces. She pauses to hop up onto the chair. She's pulled it too far away for her to be able to touch the table, but that doesn't seem to bother her. With her feet swinging back and forth, she continues, "It is written into his very essence."

"Essence," Denji mutters to himself, surprised that Power even knows a word like that at her age. Then again, maybe he shouldn't be. She had never been good with words in a way that was actually smart like Aki or Makima had been, but she'd always been really good at making herself sound fancy. She's probably just picking words up and flinging them around in a way that makes her sound smart. He should be more impressed that she used it right.

...Assuming that she did use it right. Denji isn't sure 'essence' is the right word for that. He thinks it is, but unlike Power, he's never even tried to seem word-smart. Nayuta doesn't say anything to make it seem like it isn't, so that probably means it is.

No, what Nayuta does is tilt her head and ask, "In what way?"

Power grabs the seat of her chair and scoffs disdainfully. "Can't you tell?"

"Of course I can tell!" Nayuta exclaims. "I just wanted to know what tipped you off, so I know you aren't faking it."

Power scrunches her face up in a way that Denji thinks is indicative of deep thought. A moment later, it smooths out, and she nods. "I see. I will pass your test." Swiveling around in her chair, she points straight at Denji's face. "It's his eyes!" she declares.

"His eyes?" Nayuta questions.

"He has the eyes of an idiot."

Nayuta looks at him thoughtfully. "I can see that," she eventually says with a nod. "They're really empty and dull."

"Exactly!" Power crows. "'Tis emptiness!"

Denji raises his free hand to poke at the space beneath his eyes. Probably the wrong move, because Nayuta goes on to say, "His eye bags look really bad, too."

"That's where his thoughts are leaking out of his head," Power confidently states.

Denji looks down at the spoon to check his reflection. It doesn't work; he grabbed the wooden spoon. He tries not to feel too stupid about it; he was up all night and it hasn't exactly been a stress-free day. But also, damn. Maybe Power has a point about his thoughts leaking out.

"His hair is worse, though." Nayuta's comment is sharp and judgmental enough to pierce through the fragile hope wrapping itself around his heart.

"What?" Denji asks.

Power nods gravely. "It looks like... like..." Her face screws up in frustration as she struggles to find the word she's looking for, but she forces her way through it soon enough. "One of those big prickly rat-things."

"A porcupine!" Nayuta cries, excitement breaking through her mask of dignity. A horrible grin crosses her face as she points at Denji. "You're right! He looks like he has a blonde porcupine on his head!"

"Exactly!" Power crows. "No intelligent person goes around wearing a porky- a porko- prickly rat!"

...Alright. Denji's happy that they've started to bond - truly, genuinely happy in a way that words could never hope to express, but a line needs to be drawn somewhere. "Do you think you two could chill a bi-"

The smell of burning sugar cuts him off. Denji stiffens, Nayuta's eyes widen, and Power slaps her hands across her mouth, her shoulders already shaking with giggles.

"Shit!" Denji cries, spinning around to face the now-smoking pot of anko behind him.

"Denji!" Nayuta wails.

"It's fine!" Denji cries. "I can save it!"

He cannot save it. Despite his best attempts, the bowl of half-cooked anko, marred by clumps of burnt sugar, is well and truly beyond help. The girls spend a little while laughing at his efforts before switching over to demanding that he re-make it.

He does. It's a pain in the ass, a waste of beans and sugar, and means that it's going to take even longer to finish breakfast, but he does it. He does it because Power and Nayuta are united in their laughter and demands. It's worth it because even though he has to watch the stove like a hawk to make sure that it doesn't burn again, they keep on chatting as he cooks. Their conversation switches from mocking Denji into the territory of meaningless fluff, but that doesn't matter. All that matters is that Nayuta's tone slowly shifts from guarded to something close to friendly.

He knows that he isn't out of the red yet. Nayuta would never adjust that fast. The situation is still delicate enough that she could switch right back to animosity in an instant. But even though he wouldn't go as far as to call them friends yet, by the time he starts on the pancakes, the sound of their idle chatting and giggling sounds like a promise. He knows that they'll be friends eventually.

If he plays his cards right, maybe they'll even be family.

God, he hopes they’ll be a family.

The pancakes are baked without any sort of hassle. The girls remain preoccupied with each other as he scapes them off the pan and onto a plate to cool. For a little while, the kitchen slips into a state that could almost be described as peace and quiet.

Then, when he starts filling the pancakes with anko, Nayuta demands, "What's taking so long!?"

Denji turns his head so that she can see him roll his eyes at her. "You know it takes a while to make taiyaki," he points out. "Don't act like you didn't know what you were getting into."

Nayuta crosses her arms as her expression shifts into a pouting scowl. "Can't you cook faster?"

"If I could, don't ya think I would?" Denji retorts. "'Course, I probably would be going faster if you didn't keep interrupting me."

Nayuta's scowl deepens, but she doesn't argue. Denji allows himself a tiny grin at the victory before going back to layering sweet bean paste between pancakes.

Behind him, Power sniffs and declares, "This is why we should have blood for breakfast."

"Blood isn't a meal," Nayuta jumps to argue. Her voice is filled with conviction, but no actual anger, which means that Denji's safe to keep working on the taiyaki, even if he does try to move a little faster. Unfortunately, it really is only a little faster. It may be irritating how pushy Nayuta can get sometimes, but he wasn't lying about not being able to speed up very much.

"Blood is the best meal!" Power insists. She sounds kind of heated, but half of old Power's heat was nothing but hot air. Denji isn't going to start freaking out about her younger counterpart until and unless she does something to show that she has a little more bite behind her bark.

...He really hopes she doesn't. She's probably already going to throw more tantrums and shit than before. If she causes a lot more genuine problems too, Denji might have to... He'll... He'll have to figure out what to do.

There are a lot of things that he's going to have to figure out.

"It's not better than taiyaki," Nayuta says, firm in her confidence.

"I dunno what taiyaki is, but it can't be better than blood."

"It is!"

"'Tis not!"

"It is!"

"Isn't!"

"Is!"

"Isn't!"

"Is!"

Once, Denji and Power got in an argument over who would win a fight, Godzilla or Mothre with five heads. The argument had eventually devolved into them shouting 'Godzilla' and 'Mothra' at each other at the top of their lungs. By the time Aki jumped in to shout at them until they stopped shouting, half an hour later, he looked about ready to throttle them. Denji had thought that he was being overdramatic at the time. Now, as the girl's voices gradually rise to a pitch that he thinks will rattle the windows if it gets much louder, he understands how he could have reached that point.

Fortunately, Denji has a weapon that Aki didn't.

"Done!" Denji cries, triumphantly slapping the last two pancakes together.

He grabs the plate stacked with taiyaki and walks over to the table. Both girls have gone quiet and are staring at him with wide, excited eyes. Or at least, Nayuta's excited. Power is staring at the plate as if it is the most suspicious thing she has ever seen in her life. It would probably be insulting if she weren't so small. As it is, she reminds him of a kitten getting ready to run into a corner and hide because she saw a weirdly shaped piece of plastic. Besides, a tiny version of Power is still Power. He knows better than to expect her to be excited to try a new food that isn't primarily blood or meat.

Denji pulls out a seat and sets the taiyaki down on the table. Nayuta reaches to grab one, only to pause at the last second, glancing over at Power. Excitement shifts to stubborn cunning as she pushes the plate toward the smaller girl. "You first," she declares.

Power jerks up out of her slumped posture and looks at Nayuta in befuddled disgust. "Why should I try your gross little disks!?"

Nayuta smirks. "'Cause I wanna see the look on your face when you realize you're wrong."

"Nayuta..." Denji warns. It's probably less effective on account of the fact that it comes out as a strained, pitiful wheeze. 'Please don't fight over this' will probably make him even more pathetic, so he tries to sound solid and authoritative as he continues, "It's fine if she doesn't like it."

"She will like it," Nayuta insists.

"I won't," Power retorts, crossing her arms.

Nayuta's smirk turns into a stubborn pursing of her lips. "How will you know if you don't try?"

"Because I know! I'm not trying your stupid slow foods."

Nayuta tosses her head with a snort. "I guess you must be too sca-"

Power grabs a taiyaki and shoves half of it into her mouth before Nayuta can finish speaking. Both of their eyes widen at the same moment. However, where Nayuta's mouth drops open ever so slightly, Power pulls the remaining half of her taiyaki back to stare at it in unabashed awe. She glances up at Denji, then back down at the taiyaki, and, through a mouth full of bean and pancake, whispers, "Blood..."

"It's red bean paste," Denji corrects.

Power shakes her head and forcefully swallows her mouthful of taiyaki. "It is red and delicious. Tis blood." She stuffs the other half of the taiyaki in her mouth then, smearing paste across her face and chewing with her mouth open.

Nayuta closes her gaping out, a smirk spreading across her lips. "You do like it!" she cries.

Power pauses in the middle of reaching toward the plate. "...No," she says, mouth still full of taiyaki.

Nauyta frowns. "But you just-"

"Nayuta," Denji whispers, gently nudging her in the ribs.

Frustrated amber eyes peer up at him. However, she looks back forward with a frustrated sigh after a moment. Reaching to grab her own taiyaki, she says, "I think you're lying, but okay. I'll let you. This time."

"I never lie," Power lies.

"Enough about the taiyaki," Denji says, reaching to grab one of the pastries for himself. He can't exactly say that he's hungry, let alone for something as sweet as taiyaki. The idea of towing two devil children through a busy day on absolutely no sleep convinces him he doesn't need to add an empty stomach to that chaos. Tearing a bite out of the fluffy confection, he asks, "You guys wanna know what we're gonna do today?"

"Don't you have school?" Nayuta asks.

Denji pauses his chewing. Right. Shit.

"What's school?" Power mutters.

Denji forces himself to swallow his taiyaki. It goes down like the world's sweetest rock. "School's where you go to learn." It's really fucking hard to keep your grades up. "But I think this means I should probably take a few days off." Or more.

Denji doesn't want to drop out of school… He really fucking doesn't want to drop out. He only just started, and it's taking a while for him to get in the swing of things, but he's getting there. Having to abandon it now would be…

But it's already hard enough to balance school and Nayuta. If school and Nayuta and Power end up being too much…

He'd give it up for her. In a heartbeat. He owes her the world, giving up his education is the least he could do.

"What are we doing?" Nayuta asks, giving him an excuse to abandon that miserable train of thought.

Plastering a grin on his lips, Denji declares, "We're going shopping."

Power wrinkles her nose. She's reaching for a third anko. Denji realizes that he should probably cut her off before she can get sick, but the pancakes are pretty small, so he decides to let her have one more. "What's shopping?" she asks.

And... Denji has no idea how to describe shopping to a little kid who was fucking around in the forest until Kishibe found her. So he doesn't. Instead, he shoves the remainder of his taiyaki into his mouth, eliciting a frown from Nayuta, swallows it, and says, "You're gonna find out." He pushes his chair back, hands Nayuta two more pieces of taiyaki, and moves to put the plate in the fridge. "I'm going to take a shower," he says. "You two behave, we'll get going when I get back."

Is it risky for him to leave Power and Nayuta alone together while he takes a shower? Yes. Incredibly. But their relationship isn't going to get anywhere if he doesn't take some risks, and after this morning, he thinks Nayuta earned a little trust.

He really hopes that he's right.

He needs to be right.

Chapter Text

They don’t actually head to the store right after Denji finishes his shower.

For one thing, despite Kishibe clearly having made some attempts to get her somewhat civilized, Power is dirty. Not quite filthy, but definitely too dirty for him to take her out in public. He needs to clean her up before he can take her to the store.

Bathing Power is an ordeal. She fights him every inch of the way as he tries to get her in the tub. It’s a good thing that Denji’s wearing long sleeves, or he’d have a fun new collection of scrapes and scratches to try and hide from Nayuta. She does bite his hand, but he manages to yank it away before her sharp little fangs can pierce his skin, which saves him from having to worry about that, at least. But honestly, he wouldn’t have cared too much even if he did end up with a bloody hand. The real relief comes when she more or less behaves once he gets her in the tub.

Washing her isn’t easy; Power fidgets the entire time, splashing water everywhere and grabbing at the various soaps and scrubs. At one point, she gets the body wash open and he has to stop her from pouring it directly into her mouth. Still, he supposes that it’s good enough for a little kid hopped up on sugar. Despite her restlessness, she lets him wash her hair and scrub the dirt off her person with minimal complaints.

Power refuses to get out of the water once she’s clean.

Extracting her from the bathtub turns into another miniature wrestling match. By the time she’s out and wrapped up in a towel, it’s two hours later and Denji’s soaked to the bone. He supposes that he should consider himself lucky that Nayuta laughs at his face when she sees him instead of getting angry with Power. That doesn’t stop him from making a face at her before rooting through her clothes to find an outfit that’s small enough to fit the tiny Blood Devil.

He is proud of Nayuta for not getting upset about him putting Power in her clothes. The dark look on her face says that she isn’t happy about it, but she keeps her mouth shut, and Denji needs to do something to acknowledge it. Later, though. First, he busies himself rolling up Power’s pants and shirt sleeves, because the smallest things Nayuta owns are still about two sizes too large for her. It’s a miracle that they don’t slide off her completely.

Nayuta gets dressed without needing to be told while he’s taking care of Power. She also insists that Denji go get changed when he tries to herd them out the door. Apparently, she doesn’t want to be seen in public with him when he’s all wet. His arguments that his clothes will dry off fall on stubbornly deaf eyes.

Normally he would have fought harder, but he’s tired, destined to get more tired over the course of the day, and needs to save his energy for the battles that he has no choice but to fight. Denji changes his clothes before they set off.

He probably should have expected it, but getting to the mall turns out to be another ordeal. By this point, he’s starting to get the impression that the entire day is going to fall under that description.

Nayuta is generally pretty good about following him around when they're in public. However, that was without Power around. Power, who's never been good at following anything, be they people or orders, the entire time he's known her. Denji decides to take the cautious route and grabs both of their hands when they step out the door. Holding hands with Nayuta is pretty easy. Denji isn't a giant and she's pretty tall for her age, so he only has to stoop down a little bit to reach. Power, however, is teeny. He has to awkwardly twist his spine and stoop one shoulder down so that he can take her hand while still holding on to Nayuta.

Where Nayuta accepts the hand-holding with dignity, Power squirms and tugs, trying to chase after every interesting sight or smell and forcing him to hold onto her as tight as he can without having to worry about crushing her hand. It's frustrating, but she isn't screaming or biting, so he'd say that it's going pretty well. Yes, Denji feels like that creepy Igor dude as he shuffles down the sidewalk spine contorted and starting to ache more by the second, but it's still better than having to chase them down. It's clear that his dignity isn't surviving this trip no matter what he does, at least he can take the form of embarrassment that doesn't involve running.

He and Power used to think it was so fun to randomly bolt and make Aki chase after them in the middle of running errands. There was no reason for him to stress himself out and run after them. They would have come back eventually. He probably knew that, too. But he always ran after them, and they always laughed at him when he finally caught up, red-faced and grumpy.

The memory only lingers at the forefront of his mind for a moment before he pushes it down, deep into the soil of the graveyard that's developed in his chest.

He's successfully forgotten it by the time they reach the train station.

"Alright," Denji says when they reach the platform. "You guys are gonna have to behave while we're on the train. Don't touch anyone, don't talk to anyone, just pretend that you're statues. Got it?"

Nayuta looks up at him and waits until he's looking directly at her to roll her eyes. "I've ridden trains before, Denji," she says, all scorn and dismissiveness.

"'Tis very simple," says Power, who he is certain does not actually know what a train is, seeing as she was looking at it like a giant insect a few seconds ago. "You're stupid for doubting me."

"I'm alright with being stupid if it means we don't get in any trouble," Denji says.

Nayuta huffs and attempts to pull her hand out of his to cross her arms. He doesn't let her. She glares up at him, but resigns herself to having her hand held as she says, "There won't be trouble. I always behave, and I'll make sure Power does, too."

Power lets out an offended squawk. "I am the best behaved!"

"Mmm... I don't think so."

"You think wrong!"

"That's not how you say that."

"'Tis!"

"No - you're bad with words."

"I am the best at words!"

"No. Maybe you're better than Denji, but..."

Denji lets the bickering wash over him and fade into the distance. He knows that he's supposed to be trying to get them to get along, but he isn't worried about this sort of arguing. There isn't anything really angry or aggressive in their words. It doesn't sound like either of them is trying to hurt the other. As long as their arguing stays like that, he's more than happy to let them figure things out for themselves. He and Power and Aki used to argue like that all the time and that was…

It was good.

He just doesn't really want to listen to the girls reenact it.

So he zones out and lets their words turn into gibberish. He doesn't pull himself out of the clouds he's drifted off into until the train pulls in, at which point he shushes Power and Nayuta and tugs them a little closer to him.

"C'mon," he says, leading them into the crowded train. Like, seriously crowded - all of the seats are taken. Denji swallows down his apprehension as he says, "Time to show me how stupid I was for worrying."

Maybe, if he's very lucky, phrasing it like a challenge will get the girls to behave.

And it does. For about three minutes.

"Denji, there's a dog," Nayuta hisses, tugging on his hand and pointing to a woman a few feet away. Indeed, she has a small, hairy, rat-like dog stuffed inside her purse. It's peering at them and panting with its beady eyes. Honestly, the thing is pretty ugly, but Nayuta's staring at it like it's a unicorn. In the few seconds it takes for him to think of a response, she starts tugging at his hand.

"We've got plenty of dogs at home," he says, squeezing her hand in an unspoken reminder that they're supposed to stay still. "You can pet them all you want when we get home."

But we don't have any small dogs," Nayuta protests.

"We've got a cat," Denji says, trying to keep the exasperation from bleeding into his voice. "That's close enough."

"No!" Power cries, yanking on Denji's arm as she starts to jump up and down for no apparent reason. Denji lets go of Nayuta to grab her shoulders in a futile attempt to make her stay still.  She starts thrashing frantically, and between that and the movement of the train, Denji nearly falls over.

"Power, you need to stay still," he urgently reminds her.

"Meowy is better than any ugly little rat dog!" Power shouts.

Nayuta gasps, and the dog lady glares at them like they're the scum of the earth. Denji offers her a strained, apologetic grin before returning to the flailing little devil in his arms. Her beanie's going to come flying off if she shakes her head much harder.

"I agree, but we can't just say that out loud," Denji whispers.

The good news is that Power stops flailing. The bad news is that she shouts, "Why not!? I want everyone to know!"

Just as Denji's lowering his hands, she stomps her foot, which sends her tumbling back. He bites back a curse as he jerks forward to grab her. "Power-"

A gentle tap on his shoulder grabs his attention. He turns his head to find an old man smiling at him ruefully. He'd been sitting down a moment ago. Now, that seat is vacated. "I think you need it more than I do," the old - no, ancient man says, gesturing to the seat.

Denji wants to say no. Then he looks over to find Nayuta inching toward the rat-dog, Power starts squirming again, and he is left to hand his head in defeat. "Thanks," he croaks.

Denji grabs Power by the back of her jacket, reaches over to Nayuta, grabs her by the back of her jacket, and drops heavily down into the seat. He allows his head to droop down while Nayuta mutters something about how everyone should appreciate dogs and Power leans forward bonelessly, Denji's grip on her collar the only thing keeping her from falling face-first onto the train floor.

It is there that the exhaustion of the past day starts to sink in.

It doesn't let up, and the rest of the day passes by in disjointed flashes.

*

Getting the girls off the train is easier than getting them on or the ride itself.

Kinda.

Sorta.

Not really.

It starts off easy enough. The train reaches their stop and Denji lets go of Power and Nayuta's jackets, only to grab onto their hands as quick as a flash. He holds on tight and all but drags them after him in his haste to make sure that they get off before the doors can close. Thankfully, they speed up quickly, and while he has to slow down a little to account for Power's tiny legs, they do a pretty good job of keeping pace.

Until they get about halfway to the mall's entrance, at which point Power drops onto the ground and, for no apparent reason, announces that she won't take one more step.

Denji stares. He begs. He pleads. He gets laughed at by a blatantly sadistic little devil. And then, in a moment of inspiration, he decides,

Fuck it.

Denji swoops down, picks Power up, and gently tosses her over his shoulder. She shrieks, kicks, and gnaws at his shoulder, but her protests lack the shrillness that would tell him that she's in real distress. She isn't able to kick him hard enough to bruise, and his shirt is too thick for her to gnaw through.

The sound of giggling draws his attention down to Nayuta. She's standing by his side with her hand pressed against her mouth, amber eyes giggling with mirth.

"I've got two shoulders," Denji tiredly warns.

Nayuta drops her hand to her side and offers a nod that would be solemn if she weren't visibly fighting back laughter. Still, it's good enough, especially when she says, "I'll be good."

"You'd better."

With that, Denji sets off toward the mall, a squirming devil in his arms and an openly giggling one trailing after him.

*

Power demands to be put down the second they step inside the mall. Denji cautiously agrees to give her a chance.

*

She tries to run away five minutes later.

*

"Alright," Denji pants, hoisting a shrieking Power back over his shoulder. She looks like she's seven or eight, but acts like she's five. Which is probably something that he should have seen coming, considering that it's Power. He has to raise his voice to be heard over her as he asks, "Think you can find us a cart?”

"Maybe." Nayuta's grin, already big enough to be obnoxious, grows a little wider. Denji allows himself to glower at her for a moment, because yeah, it's good that she isn't getting angry with Power for acting out, but he could do without her laughing at him while he's enduring trials. Completely undaunted, the smug little shit continues on, "Can you hold onto her long enough for me to get one?"

Denji lets out an irritated huff. Planting a hand on his hip, he says, "I'm not gonna lose a fight against a little kid."

Because this is just as much a fight as when Power first tried to feed him to the bat devil. Worse, even. At least with the Bat Devil, random strangers didn't stop and look at him like he's some clueless idiot who has no idea how to handle children.

At that instant, Power, who had momentarily paused in her aimless shouting, lets out what can only be described as a war cry and throws all her weight to the side. Denji lets out a strangled yelp as he fumbles to grab back onto her. He moves as fast as he can and still only just manages to catch her in time to keep her from falling off his shoulder and slamming onto the hard cement floor of the mall.

Nayuta laughs.

"Damn it Power, that would hurt!" Denji cries.

"Nothing can hurt me!" Power exclaims, sinking her sharp, talon-like nails into the fabric of his shirt.

"Hey, Power, d'you think you could beat Denji in a fight?" Nayuta asks.

"Of course!" Power crows. "Put me down and I will-"

"You don't do anything," Denji interrupts. Power's legs, having gone blessedly still for a moment, start swinging once again, feet kicking ruthlessly into his chest. The kicks aren't hard enough to seriously hurt, but they still aren't pleasant. On the bright side, it helps wake him up, at least for a moment. That makes it a little easier for him to resign himself to the torment as he swings around to face his other gremlin. He needs both of his hands to hold onto Power, so he narrows his eyes at Nayuta and hopes that the effect is the same as pointing.

Probably not. The bags under his eyes have to be massive by now. She doesn't start laughing again though, and at this point, Denji's willing to count that as a victory.

"Don’t rile her up," he orders.

"Or what?" Nayuta challenges.

I'll go insane, Denji thinks.

"I don't have to buy you anything," he flatly points out.

Nayuta's eyes widen like she only just realized that. For such a smart kid, she can be really damn stupid sometimes.

"I'll get a cart," Nayuta says with a speed that could almost be mistaken for obedience. Denji would probably call her out on it if he didn't still have Power flailing on his shoulder. She's flailing a little less hard than she was a moment ago, but she's still flailing, and he isn't about to fuck around and find out when 'finding out' would probably mean Power unthinkingly launching herself onto the floor. She'll probably be able to shake the fall off, but that doesn't mean that he wants to watch her take it. Or listen to her whining after, for that matter. So he watches Nayuta run off to grab a cart and hopes to God, Satan, or whatever else might be listening that this trip will get a little bit easier.

In the time that it takes for Nayuta to get a cart, Power wears herself out and slumps against Denji's shoulder. He starts mindlessly rubbing circles against her back and zones out. He is dragged back to reality once the invisible timer in his brain goes off. Nayuta has been gone for a little while... could she have managed to get herself lost? He really isn't in the mood to have to search the mall for a wayward child, but that's about in line with the way his life tends to go, so he might as well.

Maybe it's a good thing that he didn't sleep last night. He'd be way more freaked out if he didn't feel like he could fall asleep standing up. He's sure that the fear and panic will pop up if he doesn't find her quickly enough, but for now, it's nice to be able to keep his head on his shoulders.

The sound of squealing wheels pulls Denji out of the depths of resignation. He turns around to find Nayuta painstakingly pushing a cart that's just a little too big for her to manage easily. With a sigh that could be tiredness or relief, he lowers Power a few inches. Denji feels like his energy is being steadily drained through a bendy straw, but as she blinks up at him with bleary yellow eyes, he still finds himself smiling a little.

"Are you gonna behave?" he asks.

Power nods and slumps forward against his chest.

Denji takes a deep breath. "Alright," he says. "Then let's get this over with."

*

Power is quiet when Denji gets her settled in the shopping cart, slumping against the side with her eyelids drooping low. Denji's concerned for about half a second before deciding not to look the gift horse in the mouth. He'll be able to get more shopping done faster without her flailing about and causing a fuss. This is an opportunity.

Besides, it's normal for kids to crash after they've had a lot of sugar, right? He definitely gave her a lot of sugar this morning, so that's probably what's happening. He'll start worrying if she starts throwing up or actually falls asleep in the cart.

They're deep in the guts of some brightly colored store selling even brighter children's clothing when it sluggishly occurs to Denji that he should probably stop to ask Power what sort of clothes she wants. He needs her to wear them; if she decides that they're too ugly to be allowed on her body, he'll be in for one of the biggest headaches of his life.

"Hey, Power," he says, gently nudging her shoulder.

Power straightens up from the little ball she's curled up into to blink up at him with bleary yellow eyes. "What?" she grumbles.

"What sorta clothes do you want?"

Power scoffs. "I don't need your pitiful human coverings." She pauses, then looks down at the oversized red shirt that she's wearing with a tremendous scowl. Her hands fist around the bottom of the fabric and begin to pull it up.

Denji is struck by a bolt of adrenaline unlike anything he's ever felt before.

Quick as a flash, he grabs Power and tossed her back over his shoulder. "Don't be like that," he says, trying to sound more reassuring than frantic, because he's pretty damn sure that this little shit would think frantic is funny. "I bet we can find something that you'll wanna wear."

Nayuta tugs on Denji's shirt. He looks down to find her staring up at him with eyes wide with excitement. "I can find clothes for her," she offers.

"I don't want clothes!" Power shouts.

"They'll be good clothes!" Nayuta argues.

"There are no good clothes."

"Yes, there are! You'll like them! Besides." Nayuta sniffs and plants her hands on her hips. "You liked the taiyaki."

Power claws at the back of Denji's shoulder as she attempts to drag herself up and over it. He has to tighten his grip on her to keep that from happening. "No, I didn't! It was only good because of the blood!" Power shouts directly into Denji's ear.

Denji's ears are ringing too badly for him to pick up any exact words, but Nayuta's tone tells him that she's about to launch into an argument, which drives him to cut her off with a rushed, "Why don't you prove it and go find some stuff for Power?"

It takes him a few seconds to realize that he yelled in order to hear himself. Some fancy-looking lady in a flowered cardigan is looking at him like he's some sort of freak.

Ah well, who cares what she thinks? She doesn't understand. No one except maybe Kishibe understands what the fuck is going on right now, and there's absolutely no one who actually knows how to deal with it, so cardigan lady doesn't have any right to judge him.

Aki probably would have known what to do.

Denji banishes the thought into the back of his brain as soon as it appears. He focuses on straining to hear Nayuta as she sniffs and says, "Fine. But she’d better be grateful."

*

Nayuta only chooses a few things from the store they're in before dragging them to another shop with "better" clothes. Denji doesn't know how she knows that it has better clothes, since he knows for a fact that neither of them has been in it before, but he doesn't have the energy to pick that battle right now.

It takes about an hour and a half for her to declare that she's content with her findings.

Power is not grateful. However, she also doesn't complain as she paws through her new possessions, and Nayuta is far too pleased with herself to remember to call the younger devil out on her manners.

Denji's hearing is back to normal by the time they start talking about whether or not he should dye his hair purple.

*

Power's energy comes back gradually, then all at once. She shifts from squirming around in the cart to standing up, pointing at everything, and demanding that he tell her what it is. He has to start pushing the cart down the middle of the hallways when they're in stores so that she can't grab things off the shelves. He learns that lesson when she nabs a container of man's hair gel and he has to wrestle it out of her grasp before she can pry it open and, judging by the gleam in her eyes, start shoveling it into her mouth. Nayuta is absolutely no help, standing by and snickering the entire time, but she also doesn't cause any problems, which is pretty much all that he can ask of her right now.

Denji deals with the energy by keeping Power in the cart for as long as possible. She does try to climb out of it once, but she's hilariously short and the cart is tall enough that she gives up before she's even finished hoisting her leg over the side. It's a decent solution, but not a long-term one. He kinda has to take her out of the cart so that he can make sure that he gets shoes that actually fit her.

The good news is that she doesn't bolt as soon as he sets her down on the floor of the shoe store. The bad news…

"How do they make these?" Power demands, waving a bright pink sneaker in front of Denji's face.

"In a factory," Denji says with all the pride and confidence of a moron who's avoided looking totally stupid in front of his little sister for at least one more day.

That facade slips the instant that Power opens her mouth to ask, "But what do they do there?"

Denji's mind blanks. He'd like to blame it on the lack of sleep, but frankly, he's not sure that this wouldn't happen even if he was well-rested. He looks away for a second, just long enough to gain his bearings, and murmurs, "Uh..."

Nayuta takes the opportunity to chime in, with all of the confidence of someone who knows absolutely nothing about shoe production, but feels an unwavering faith in what random facts she has collected, "Some shoes are made out of animal skins."

"Animal skins?" Power echoes.

"Yeah! You can eat them!"

Denji can taste the impending disaster when she says that.

He lurches forward a few seconds too late to stop Power from taking a massive bite out of the sneaker.

*

Denji ends up buying three pairs of shoes: a new pair for Nayuta, a pair for Power, and the pair that he has to buy on account of the giant bite taken out of one of the soles.

At least he knows that Power's teeth are working well.

Denji also decides to take this as a sign that it's time to feed the gremlins.

Girls.

Gremlin girls.

He's filled with apprehension when he leads them into the food court. Thankfully, through some sort of miracle that he's not entirely sure he's earned, they more or less behave all throughout lunch. Their chatter is loud enough to draw disapproving looks from all directions, but Denji doesn't give a shit at this point. It's taking all of his power not to flop forward and fall asleep on his hamburger. As long as they don't break anything or steal anything or run away or get into any fights, they can be as loud as they want.

Fuck it.

*

Okay, not fuck it.

For strength and serenity, Denji orders an energy drink the size of his head and chugs that bad boy. It doesn't wake him up enough to stop him from zoning out entirely. He appreciates the artificial energy holding him together enough not to lose one of the girls.

That's fine. He just needs to hit a few more stores, grab something for dinner, and then maybe, if the girls are merciful, he can take a nap. He can do this.

*

He can't do this.

Denji had known that taking Power and Nayuta into the toy store was going to cause problems. He also knew that he didn't necessarily need to get them a bunch of toys. Or any, for that matter. Except he kinda does, because Power is going to need some stuff to keep her occupied, and if he doesn't get her stuff of her own, she's going to start using Nayuta's, probably without asking, and that will turn into a big mess too fast for him to hope to control it. And if he's getting toys for Power, he'll have to get toys for Nayuta, otherwise she'll get all pissy and jealous and feel like he's neglecting her.

And maybe he would feel kind of shitty if he dragged them around a mall getting clothes and shit for hours and didn't buy them anything fun. Maybe. Just a bit.

Denji knew all of this shit. He knew that he might be making a mistake and decided to do it anyway. He walked into the toy store prepared for whining, wheedling, and the very real possibility of leaving with a crushing headache.

Nothing could have prepared him for this.

"Pleeeeeease," Power whines. And he can tell that she means it, not just because of how long she draws the word out, but because she actually said please in the first place.

"We won't ask for anything else!" Nayuta adds, which he knows is bullshit, but she says it with such vigor that it gives him pause.

"But... why?" Denji asks.

Power frowns up at him. "Why what?"

Denji gestures at the five-foot-long hyper-realistic stuffed squid that the girls have dragged over to him. It took both of them to move it and they still weren't able to keep it from dragging on the ground. Now it lies on the floor between them, its plastic amber eyes staring at him in a surprisingly convincing imitation of wetness. "Why do you want this!?"

"Because it's cool!" Nayuta exclaims like it's the most obvious thing in the world.

"'Tis an abomination!" is Power's excited addition.

"Do you have any clue how much it'll cost?" Denji challenges.

"You can afford it if you don't buy us anything else," Nayuta shoots back.

Denji holds back a sigh as he looks up at the ceiling. Buying them the squid and nothing else isn't actually an option. A single giant stuffed cephalopod isn't going to be enough to keep Power entertained, no matter how much they want it. But if he doesn't get it for them, who knows how long they're going to be whining about it, and he really, really doesn't want to deal with that right now.

...The stuffed squid is going to be expensive, but not as expensive as a futon. It's really big, too. Big enough that it probably won't be able to comfortably fit on either of their futons.

Big enough to sleep on.

"Alright," Denji declares. "I'll get the squid, but only if you let me sleep with it."

The girls accept his condition with only a little bit of complaining, which ends as soon as they realize that he's still going to get them more stuff.

Denji spends a second wondering if he should be worried about them becoming spoiled. Then he decides that that's a problem for a future Denji.

*

By the time they get onto the train home, the girls are so worn down that he doesn't need to hold onto them to make them say put. Which is good luck for him, because if he had to handle them, the shopping bags, and the squid, he would have been fucked. He's pretty damn close to fucked as it is, but through sheer willpower, determination, and forcing Nayuta to carry two of the bags when he starts to collapse, he manages to get everyone home safe.

Denji cheats for dinner. He knows that cooking would be the mature, responsible, adult thing to do, but the energy drink is wearing off and he's pretty sure that anything he cooks will end up being burnt garbage. That'll lead to the girls complaining, Nayuta demanding that he cook it again, Denji burning the food again, and on and on in an endless circle until they help themselves to a dinner of bread and jam. It's not the worst possible outcome, but he'd feel much better if he got them both actual nutrition, so he preemptively throws in the towel and orders in.

Asking the girls what they want to eat is probably a mistake on his part. Power, recently dragged in from the forest, doesn't know what most foods are yet. What follows is a solid hour of an indecisive Nayuta describing different foods to her and changing her mind on which is the best.

Denji's lying on the living room floor, staring up at the ceiling and struggling to stay awake, when Nayuta marches over and imperiously demands ice cream for dinner.

He tells her that isn't happening.

She protests for about three minutes before crossing her arms, grumbling, and telling him that sushi 'will do'.

Ordering the sushi is easy enough. Denji already knows what Nayuta likes and is willing to take the gamble that Power's preferences haven't changed from her last life. He turns on the television as much to keep himself awake as to occupy the girls. It works well enough; they quietly chatter with each other while sitting in front of the screen, mesmerized by some movie about talking dinosaurs, while Denji finds a way to keep his eyes open even as his mind drifts off into some unknowable oblivion.

He's yanked back to reality by a knock on the door.

Dinner passes in a blur. He doesn't try to corral the girls to sit around the table. Instead, he sets the sushi out on the floor. While they go to town, he helps himself to a small plate, sits down on the couch, and forces himself to eat despite his appetite having shriveled down to nothing. He's barely aware of the taste of rice and fish. His attention is consumed by the smiles and laughter of the little girls a few feet away from him.

It paints a gentle smile across his face as, without realizing it, he begins to lean heavily against the side of the couch.

Everything is going to be alright.

So maybe, just maybe, it's okay if he closes his eyes for a few minutes.

*

Denji wakes up to the sound of giggling and the feeling of something tickling against his cheek.

"Like this?" Power whispers.

"Almost," Nayuta whispers back. "A star's gotta be more pointy. Here, I'll show you."

"You'd better give it back."

"I will, just - gimme."

Denji opens his eyes to find a Sharpie posed inches away from his eyes.

Nayuta blinks at him. Then she smiles and hides the marker behind her back, the least convincing picture of innocence he's ever seen. "Good morning!" she sweetly trills.

Denji's eyes slide over to Power, who's practically stuffed her hand in her mouth in her attempts to hide her laughter.

"...Morning," he says, holding back a sigh.

At least they're getting along.

Chapter Text

It's a quiet morning.

Too quiet.

The past several days have passed in a blur. His first priority has been the girls, just like he supposes it always will be from this point on.

Despite the rough start, Nayuta and Power have been developing a friendship. Denji's more proud of them than he expected to be. He would thank Nayuta for her good behavior if he wasn't worried that she might get offended and start causing problems on purpose. It's probably better not to dwell on it anyway. Reflecting too deep into... well... anything lately causes his mind to wander. It's a cycle that he juggles every day, its frequency increasing despite how happy the girls have been making him. He doesn't understand why it's been harder than usual to tear himself out before he's remembering them-

Denji turns the sink knob higher and imagines his thoughts washing away with the suds.

The girls make it easy for him to keep his mind from wandering toward the things that he doesn't want to think about. There's always something to do where they're concerned. Denji barely has to think at all!

Well, that's not true. Denji is thinking constantly. He thinks about clothes, food, the newest mess that's been made, the messes that are going to be made, how to make sure that they keep getting along, and how to keep them occupied. Late at night, when they're both settled down and he doesn't have to fuss over any of those things, he thinks about school. Not in the sense that he reflects on his coursework - Denji's been absent the entire week since Power arrived. Over the phone, he had claimed to have some terrible, highly contagious disease, even going as far as to exaggerate his voice into a ghoulish timbre.

When he thinks about school, he wonders how he'll manage to go back.

If he goes back.

He wants to believe that he's going back. Now that Power and Nayuta are getting along, he doesn't have as much reason to worry about leaving them alone. But he can't not worry about it. Nayuta's smart enough that he could trust her to stay home by herself. She's got attitude, sure, but she's generally pretty good about being left alone. The problem is that Power brings her attitude out in ways that he isn't used to. Their energies feed into each other until they're one excitable, rambunctious whirlwind.

There's a chance that if he tells Nayuta to take care of the apartment for him, she'll take it seriously, get herself under control, and reign Power in enough that he can safely leave them both alone for the day.

There's also a chance that Power will convince Nayuta to act like a wild thing and he'll come home to find the apartment on fire.

And he doesn't have any clue which one it will be.

What he does know is that the girls have proven themselves to be a relentless hurricane of energy when in each other's presence. Which brings him back to his current problem: it's quiet. If the past week has taught him anything, it's that quiet can't mean anything good.

Denji feels like he's on his way to defuse a bomb as he sets down the dish he had been washing and slowly begins to pad through the apartment. He hears some rustling from the direction of the living room, but when he looks, it's just the dogs, all four of them curled up in a big snuggle pile. The fact that Nayuta isn't among them sends up another red flag. He hears a faint dripping sound when he walks past the bathroom, but when he checks on that, it's just because one of the sink's handles is askew. Denji corrects it and continues on his quest.

It's when he's passing the bedroom that he hears it, the most ominous noise in the world.

Giggling.

Denji freezes and turns around to stare at the bedroom door with narrowed eyes. The closed bedroom door. Last he checked, he had left it open.

Oh yeah, they're up to something.

Denji takes a  deep breath, flings the door open, and steps into the bedroom.

The girls ignore him in favor of continuing to rifle through his underwear drawer.

More accurately, Nayuta is rifling through his underwear, which happen to be in the top drawer of the dresser. Power, about an inch too short to reach that high, fidgets anxiously by her side. There is a pile of discarded boxers scattered around their feet. As Denji watches, Nayuta fishes a new pair out of the draw. She inspects them for a moment before passing them to Power, who turns them over a few times before tossing them onto the ground.

This happens about three more times before Denji snaps out of his shock and croaks, "What the hell?"

Nayuta, in the process of pulling out another pair of boxers, drops it on the floor like it had burst into flames and shrieks, "Go away!"

At the same time, Power points at him, hand clutching onto a ratty gray pair of boxers, and cries, "Begone!"

"Wha- No !" Denji sputters. "You're the ones going through my shit, I ain't going anywhere!"

"We are doing no such thing!" Power cries as Nayuta struggles to slam the drawer shut.

"I can see you !" Denji exclaims, gesturing to the underwear scattered across the floor.

"Liar! There is nothing to see here!"

The drawer slams shut with a gentle click. “We’ll leave!” Nayuta cries.

That, the fact that her response to being caught is to offer to leave, is the most glaring warning siren that he could have asked for.

“Why were you digging around in my underwear in the first place!?” Denji exclaims, stretching his arms out and letting them drop back to his sides in exasperation.

Power sneers at him derisively. She opens her mouth, pauses, glances at Nayuta, and lets out an indignant yelp when Nayuta proceeds to point at her shout, “It was Power! She wanted to see what you were hiding!”

“She lies!” Power shrieks, pointing at Nayuta in turn. “ She is the one who wanted to uncover your secrets! I was trying to stop her!”

“No, you weren’t!”

“More lies!”

“Power, you’re always lying! I-”

"Why would I be hiding anything in there ?" Denji interrupts.

A heavy shadow falls upon Power's face. "The greatest secrets are always kept in the most forbidden places."

Nayuta nods solemnly.

"...No," Denji says. He gestures toward the boxers scattered across the floor, it's most of what he owns, by the look of it. "Pick this up."

Power wrinkles her nose. "No! I don't want to touch your-"

"Do it or no dessert tonight."

Power bends over and starts collecting underwear. With a dramatic sigh, Nayuta follows suit. She's muttering to herself, which quickly turns into muttering to Power, which turns into muttering to each other. The next thing he knows, they're giggling and cleaning a lot slower than they should be.

Denji should probably tell them to speed up. Or, if he's okay with them working like snails, he could walk away and let them take care of it themselves. It's almost lunchtime. He should probably start getting something ready. Instead, he finds himself leaning against the door to the bedroom, watching the two of them and feeling a light, warm feeling bubble up inside his chest.

They don't even try putting the underwear away until their arms are already full. Nayuta struggles to open the drawer. After a few moments of awkward fumbling, she successfully pulls it open to gracelessly dump her bundle in. She pauses to take in a deep breath before stooping down to grab Power's armful. Adding that to the drawer creates a massive pile of boxers that make it impossible to close. With an irritated huff, Nayuta reaches her hands in and begins pushing the boxers around to level the pile out.

The jostling pushes a small, square piece of paper up against the edge of the drawer. It dangles there for a few seconds before one last hard thrust from Nayuta sends it fluttering over the edge.

Power grabs it before it can hit the ground. "I knew it!" she shrieks. "I knew this was where you hid your darkest secrets!”

Denji stops breathing as his heart jumps up into his throat.

Maybe it isn't what he thinks it is. He doesn't really remember what he's all shoved in his underwear drawer. Maybe it's just an old shopping list, of a stupid doodle of Pochita, or-

"Who are these people!" Power demands, wildly shaking the photograph.

Nayuta grabs her wrist to still her hand. After frowning down at the picture for a moment, she says, uncharacteristically soft, "...This one looks a lot like you, Power."

Denji feels his heart breaking anew.

It's a familiar feeling by now. He knows what's going to come after it. He knows how to deal with it. He pushes down the lump in his chest, slams metal walls down around his mind so that he can't think about anything that she doesn't wanna, plasters a smile across his face, and-

"...Denji?" Power asks, soft and confused. Wide red and yellow eyes stare at him imploringly, searching for answers that her mind can't provide even though they're supposed to be her memories too.

Denji's smile disappears. "Can I see that?" he asks. He can't keep the hoarse croak out of his voice. That sort of weakness could very well be disastrous to show around these girls. But right now it doesn't matter, because Nayuta lets go of Power's hand and she obediently walks across the room and passes the picture to him.

The photograph is shaking. It takes him a moment to realize that that's because his hand is shaking. Denji tenses his arm to try to make it stop, but the photo keeps quivering like a leaf in the wind, making it harder to focus on the image imprinted on it. Of course, he doesn't want to focus. He's only able to look at the jittery photograph for a moment before it feels like fingers are reaching into his chest and tugging at his heart.

It's not like he really needs to look, anyway. He already knows what he'll see.

The photo had been taken on a bright, sunny day. He and Power had been complaining about being made to go to work when they'd rather be at the arcade or the movie theater or anywhere else. There hadn't been any particular reason why they didn't want to go to work that day - it wasn't like the nice weather actually mattered to them. They'd just been in a mood. Fortunately, Aki had been in a good mood, so while he told them off for complaining, he didn't get very bitchy.

Denji and Power had gotten their wish in the end. There was a report of some devil causing trouble in the mall, but when they got there, everything was peaceful and quiet. It had taken about an hour of digging for them to find out that they had been sent to the wrong location. The devil was on the other side of town and had already been taken care of by another time.

Aki had gotten all worked up about it. He ranted about the waste of time and resources, but Denji was pretty sure that he was just upset because he'd end up looking foolish in front of a bunch of mall employees who really didn't give a shit. It was way too stupid of a thing for him and Power to get upset about. They focused on what was really important: taking advantage of their surprise day off. While Aki bitched, they dragged him around the mall and poked and prodded him into getting them stuff, arguing that it really would be a waste of time if they just turned around and went right back home.

Somewhere along the way, he stopped bitching. Somewhere along the way, all three of them started having fun.

The picture is of the three of them crammed into one of those photo booths. All three of them are wearing their public safety uniforms. Power is holding some stuffed cat up to her face and laughing. Denji is laughing at her. Aki is smiling - just a little bit, but definitely way more than he wanted to. They're happy. They're together.

Denji doesn't need to look at the photograph to know what he'll see. So he doesn't bother. The problem is that while he has it in his hand, he can't bring himself to do anything else either. He just stands there, hands shaking, eyes focused on a spot on his arm because he can'twon'tisn'tready doesn't need to look at the picture and he can't stop his hand from shaking, so there's not any real point anyway.

Then there's a sharp tug on his shirt. "Denjiiiii," Power whines. "Who are they?"

The very silhouette of that photo is burned into his mind a thousand times over. A thousand times he's held that photo in the dark, as if obscuring it would make it any less excruciating. A thousand times he’s held his breath and pleaded to anything listening to give them back. The reality of that careless wish is sinking in now that Power is here.

Power is staring at that photo with no hope of remembering any of it. She has no idea who she was, who Aki was, or what had been ripped away from her at the end. And a lot of that is probably shit that he shouldn't be telling a child, no matter how big of a fuss she puts up, but…

Who would he be if he lost all of that? If someone kept it from him?

He can't tell her much, but he can at least give her a piece of her old life.

He has to.

Even if it makes him feel like his heart is getting torn out all over again.

Denji takes in a deep breath. It doesn't do anything to steady the whirlwind, he's still letting himself dive face first into uncharted waters. But it’s okay. He's faced much more formidable circumstances. He's going to do this and it will be okay. It will be fine. His eyes are burning, but he isn't going to cry. After all, even if he has to tell her something, he really can't afford to tell her much. That means that he won't be digging deep enough to make him cry again. And yeah, he feels like crap, but-

He's doing this for Power.

Power is here.

The last time he felt this way, she was dead and he didn't know if he’d ever see her again. He survived it then, so he can definitely handle it now, when she's alive and here, even if she is tiny and helpless and doesn't remember jack shit.

"Come on," he says, slipping his free hand into Power's and starting toward the futon. "I'll tell you."

It isn't until he's sitting down on the edge of the futon, Power settling down beside him, that he remembers that there are two little girls in the room. Nayuta hasn't moved from her place beside the dresser. She's watching him with blatant unease and anxiety. The sight makes Denji's chest hurt in a way that's completely separate from the throbbing ache that's haunted him for months. It also makes him feel an odd, displaced burst of relief that he caught it before it could morph into something jealous and angry.

Denji forces a crooked smile that only lasts for a second and gestures for Nayuta to join them.

Nayuta skitters over to the futon and flops down on his other side. "You said that she knew Power in her past life," she begins without preamble. She reaches across his arm to point at something in the photograph, and he doesn't need to look to know that she's pointing at Power. "Is that her?"

"Yeah," Denji says. It comes out as a strained, painful croak, and he clears his throat, because he may have been able to afford to slip up once, but he can't carry out the entire conversation like this. "That was her."

Power gasps. "I was beautiful!"

Without thinking about it, Denji laughs slightly. His lips don't move, but at another time, he thinks he would have smiled. "You still are," he says, because it feels like something she needs to hear.

Or maybe not.

Power sniffs and proudly exclaims, "Of course! You look even uglier next to me! And that other guy-"

Power abruptly cuts off. Her lips press tightly against each other and begin to wobble, caught between pensiveness and a frown, as her brow furrows heavily. She lifts her hand, lowers it, and then abruptly reaches over to snatch the photo out of Denji's hand. He lets her take it without complaint and watches as she holds it up inches away from her face, her tiny fingerprints smudging the photo. Her mouth opens, lips moving to form senseless words. Finally, she lowers it down to her lap and looks up at Denji with eyes that are a little glassier than they were a moment ago.

"Who is he?" she asks.

"That's Aki," Denji says. "He-"

He would know how to handle this way better than Denji. Aki would offer some smooth, eloquent explanation that would answer the girl's questions while getting them to settle down. Hell, he'd probably be better with the girls in every other possible way, too; he always seemed like he'd be good with kids. Instead, they're left with Denji, who has a storm brewing inside his chest that he knows will rip him apart if he lets it.

For their sake, he can't let it. For their sake, he needs to hold himself together, answer their questions without digging a deeper hole for himself, and box his feelings back up when he's done, so that he can move on with his day.

For their sake, he needs to try to handle this like Aki would.

"He was family," Denji continues, and his breath gets caught in his throat, but his voice is audible, and that's good enough for now.

Power stares down at the photo. "My family?" she asks, the confidence in her voice weakened by an edge of hesitancy as she seeks confirmation.

Denji's throat constricts a little tighter. He has to swallow a few times to loosen it up enough to say, "Yeah. We were a family."

He should say something to reassure her that they still are. Kids are all insecure and anxious, right? If he leaves it like that, she might start to think that they aren't a family anymore, or that he doesn't love her as much as he loved the other Power, or some other sort of nonsense that he needs to make sure she doesn't end up thinking, because she shouldn't.

The storm inside him has surged into an out-of-control typhoon. He can't hear the words in his mind, and before he can push through to respond, Power looks back up at him, gripping the photo tighter, and demands, "Then where is he?"

Denji's insides go cold. There is nothing on his hands, but they feel warm and wet. That warmth is fading though, destined to turn into a cold, tacky memory that he'll never be able to wash from his skin no matter how hard he scrubs. Gunshots and laughter echo in his ears. He keeps his eyes open and aimed at a random spot on the floor, because if he closes them, he knows that he'll see that smile, more happy and free than anything he ever saw on Aki in life, lingering even as Denji takes his chainsaws and-

"Where'd he go?" Power demands, grabbing his shoulder and ruthlessly shaking it.

Unthinkingly, Denji raises his hand and places it on top of Power's. He focuses on the warmth of her hand, the blood pulsing through her veins, and reminds himself that she's alive. She's not the same, but she's here, and that means that Denji can't be there, in the middle of a fight that could have ended so differently if he had stopped to think about it. It's over, it's done, and there's nothing that he can do to change the fact that-

"He's dead, isn't he," Nayuta murmurs.

"Yeah." Denji doesn't feel it as the dull words leave his mouth, but somehow, he manages to keep speaking. "Aki is dead."

I killed him.

Power lets out an angry, indignant, offended squawk, like what he said was rude. Like she can understand the weight of what he's saying. "Why!?" she exclaims. "What happened!?"

The futon shifts slightly to Denji's other side. "Power, let's drop it," Nayuta says. He looks over to find her fidgeting slightly and watching him with an anxious expression. The fact that Nayuta's anxious is the clearest sign to get his shit together that he could ever ask for.

"Nah, it's fine," Denji says, even though it never will be. He pushes with all his will and forces the memories back into his head, where they'll well up to torment him in the middle of the night, when he can deal with them on his own instead of freaking Nayuta out. So that he can say what he needs to say instead of rolling over like a coward and denying Power even these tiny crumbs of her past.

"We were in Public Safety," he begins, the simplest, emptiest explanation that he can possibly offer. The only one that he can give her right now. "It was pretty dangerous. We went through a lot of stuff together, but eventually, there was a devil that was too strong for us, and... He died."

And so did you.

"Oh," Power murmurs. It takes all of Denji's self-restraint not to hold onto her hand when she tugs it off his shoulder. However, before he can really feel her absence, she slumps against his side. Denji's breath catches in his throat, causing a tightness in his chest that only increases when Nayuta leans against him as well. Carefully, he lifts his arms up and holds them closer.

For a moment, it feels like everything might be okay. No shots echo and the smell of gunpowder dissipates.

The moment comes to an end when Power pulls away, looks up at Denji with wide, imploring eyes, and asks, "When's he coming back?"

Denji hears the sharp intake of Nayuta's breath. He feels her absence as she pulls away from him and slides a few inches down the futon. He feels his heart sink down into his stomach, the tight, crushing pain that had been gripping him giving way to a more insidious dread. He knows that he should be working a mile a minute to think of ways to get out of this, but his head is as empty as ever, and when he opens his mouth, all that comes out is, "What?"

Power rolls her eyes. "When's he coming back?" she repeats, a little louder. "If Aki died, that means it's time for him to come back. So what's taking him so long?"

In the corner of his eye, Denji sees Nayuta stand up and slink out of the room. He doesn't make any attempt to stop her. "Power..." Denji breathes. "Aki isn't coming back."

Power recoils. "What?" Shock flashes across her face like lightning. It disappears a moment later. She furiously shakes her head, long locks of blonde hair lashing out around her head like whips. "No," she says. "That's not how it works. He's gonna come back. He's gotta."

Denji is definitely having nightmares tonight. Tonight and every night for the rest of the week. He's unbearably close to losing his grip. Acknowledging death is not foreign to Denjil when it comes to Aki, every cell in his body screams that he deserves those nightmares. He killed him. He killed him. He... fuck. 

Power doesn't need him getting upset right now. When his hands clench into fists, he forcefully stretches out his fingers and lays them flat against the bedsheets. His eyes are burning, so he blinks the sensation away and makes sure to clear his throat while he's at it.

"That's how it works for humans," he explains. "Aki was human. Humans don't reincarnate. When they die, they're just... gone."

It takes a moment for Power to think to scowl. In that instant, her mouth hangs open and her wide eyes begin to water.

With a horrifying twist of his insides, Denji realizes that she might understand more than he gave her credit for.

The scowl slams into place with furious force. Her eyes scrunch up, forcing tears out of the corners, as she shakes her head and shrieks, "Liar! I don't believe you!"

"I wouldn't lie about this," Denji whispers.

Power tosses the photograph onto the ground and lurches forward to punch Denji in the chest. He lets her. "Liar!" she screams, raising her fist to slam it back down against his chest. "You're lying!"

"I'm sorry," he whispers. "I'm not."

"Liar!" Punch. "Liar!" Punch. "He's coming back!"

Denji's chest is throbbing, but it has nothing to do with the devil beating his chest with all her might. If anything, she's more affected by it than him. It only takes about a minute for her punches to start to grow sluggish. By that time, tears are streaming down her face and her chest is heaving with sobs. Denji waits for a few more heartbeats before wrapping his arms around her. Power struggles at first, then collapses against his chest with a thin wail.

"I want him to come back," Power sobs.

Denji buries his face in the top of her head. "I know," he whispers, "I do too."

The photograph is sitting face-up beside the futon. Denji doesn't mean to look at it, doesn't realize that he's looking until it's too late. He knew what he would see, but now that he's looking, there is so much more, tiny details that have managed to escape his memory in just the short time that has passed. The tiny crinkles in the corners of Power's eyes. The exact way Aki styled his hair that day. The fact that Power isn't actually holding the little calico cat plushie up to her own face, but pressing it against Aki's, heedless of his attempts to lean away. His eyes are rolled skyward, but he's losing the battle to keep himself from smiling.

Denji is looking directly into the camera. Like what's going on right next to him doesn't matter. Like there is no reason to hold onto the moment. Like they'll always be there.

Denji holds Power closer and closes his eyes. He doesn't know who he's talking to when he whispers, "I'm sorry."

Chapter Text

Denji decides to try going back to school.

He can't help but feel like he's gambling with a billion yen. Except it's way worse than that. A billion yen is just money. This is Power and Nayuta. If Denji were to lose the house over his head, the clothes on his back, and every scrap of money hidden throughout the apartment or in the blank, he'll still find a way to make it through.

That won't be the case if something happens to either of those girls.

Of course, both of them swear up and down that everything is going to be fine. The second Denji brought up the subject of him going back to class, Nayuta had jumped to encourage him. Her enthusiasm honestly made him a little suspicious. She responded to his hesitation by reminding him that she had been left alone before and insisting that she could look after Power. Power took that as her cue to say that she didn't need to be looked after, but she would protect Nayuta if anything happened.

He half expected them to devolve into an argument from there. Yet in an impressive display of self-control, determination, and what he suspected was a desire to get him out of the house so they could freely do god knows what, they had flawlessly coordinated with their sole demand that he go back to school. Nayuta spoke logic, Power spouted nonsense, and together, they wore him down into agreeing to give them a chance and go back to school.

It was kind of scary if he's honest.

Just not as scary as what awaits him at school.

Denji knew that he couldn't skip classes for over a week without any consequences. He knew that it was going to be bad. But nothing in the world could have prepared him for just how bad the situation really is.

Over the course of the day, he receives three dubiously sincere comments about how it's good to have him back, a handful of questions about his health, and no less than four lectures about the importance of attending class. It's annoying, but he's able to zone out and nod along easily enough. What he can't ignore is all of the makeup work. Each of his teachers has a mountain of the stuff. By the end of the day, he's left feeling like he's doomed to become one of those corpses on Mount Everest.

A few weeks ago, he would have resolved to go a few nights without sleeping and cram like he's never crammed before. Now he's going to need a strategy. There's no way that both of the girls will leave him be for long enough to get much done at once. He could work on it while they're asleep, but that puts him back in all-nighter territory, and while he might have been willing to risk shuffling around like a zombie for a few days when it was just Nayuta, he knows that Power will have him regretting every choice he's ever made.

Denji banishes the thought of asking someone for help the second it arises. The girls are his to look after and he isn’t about to indebt himself to someone that way. Besides, who would he even ask? Yoshida? He’s probably the classmate he knows best at this point and he’s skeezy as heck. Nah, Denji needs to find a way to handle this on his own, and he needs to do it fast.

At least he has some time to think it over before he heads home for the day. Going back to school means restarting certain other activities as well.

Money doesn't grow on trees, and now that he's got two kids to worry about putting through college, he needs the extra yen more than ever.

Ah well. It sucks, but it's a way to make money. And as a stinking, gray-haired old man hands him a few crumpled yen notes in exchange for two cartons of less-than-honestly obtained smokes, he's reminded of how unimportant his own enjoyment is compared to that. A faint sense of fulfillment even rises up in him as he starts down the street, telling him that he can get used to this.

It definitely isn't the worst thing he's done for money. It beats out cutting down trees and selling organs, at the very least.

His mood is brought crashing down by the sound of a familiar voice that brings to mind cynicism, judgment, and rejection. "Hey, wait up!"

Denji stops in his tracks, exhaustion already seizing control of his features. He's reluctant to believe that that voice belongs to who he thinks it does, because that would mean that she's actually coming up to him, but it sounds just like her, so as he turns around, he opens with a wary, "Aren't you..."

And there she is, hands balled into fists and jaw clenched in stubborn determination.

"...That chick who hates Chainsaw Man?"

Chainsaw Man hater's expression softens with something that should be curiosity or confusion. "What are you doing?" she asks.

"Huh?" Denji asks. He doesn't know why she's asking. Either she just got here and has no reason to ask what he's doing or she's been watching for a while and should probably be able to guess on her own. Still, he's been confused by simple-looking stuff enough times before, so he goes ahead and says, "I'm selling smokes cuz part-time jobs are against the rules."

The girl's face creases in judgment. "What's with that? Are you an idiot?"

"Huh!? Get off my back!" Denji squawks.

And maybe, if he let himself think about it, he'd be a little embarrassed by how high-pitched and defensive he gets. A question so blunt and direct shouldn't sting like a slap. Or maybe that's why it stings. Something said so straightforward could only be the honest truth of how she feels about him. Denji doesn't know, since he isn't gonna let himself think about it right now. He's got shit to do, shit that doesn't include standing around getting chewed up by some chick who hates the best parts of him.

Denji takes a step back and glares at her a little - just a little, 'cause she is still a woman. "I've got a lot goin' on! I'm a busy dude! Beat it!"

The Chainsaw Man hating chick closes her eyes, expression going blank. It's a good opportunity to bolt, but she opens her eyes again before he gets the chance, suddenly blushing and hesitant. "Are you busy tomorrow too?" she asks.

Denji can feel his frustration growing by the second. 'Cause that's what it is, the pure, simple, understandable frustration of a guy who has two kids to look after and is stuck talking to some chick who's acting all judgmental. Judgmental and deaf, apparently. "Huh!?" he exclaims. "No duh, I'm busy tomorrow! And the day after that too!"

The girl looks down. "Oh, I see..." she says, and it's maybe he's just imagining things, but she almost sounds kind of... disappointed.

Denji's irritation fizzles and dies. The sting of her words begins to fade away, a slap exposed by the open air. He feels his glare disappear and his lips twist as he considers doing something very, very stupid.

Except it's not that stupid, is it? People always say 'there's no harm in asking', and all that he's doing is asking. Worst case scenario, the Chainsaw Man hater - Asa Mitaka, he's pretty sure Yoshida said her name was - says something that makes him feel kinda shitty. Which, if she does snap at him again, at least he'll know to expect it. That'll make it bother him less, right? Like when you have time to prepare for a kick before it hits your stomach.

Fuck it.

"Why'd you ask?"

Asa makes a twisted, half-grimace of a smile and looks off to the side. It's... kinda cute? Fucked up, but cute. It only lasts for an instant before she tilts her head to the side, blush deepening, and smiles widely as she wrings her hands together. In a wobbling voice, she asks, "If you're free tomorrow, would you go on a... d... date with me...?"

"A date?" Denji echos.

And just like that, his mind is a great, gaping, empty abyss. Except not really, because he might feel like he's fallen off the edge of the earth and is falling through an endless void of confusion, but there's still a tiny part of him that hasn't been completely shocked out of functionality, and that part is scrambling to try and make sense of this.

Asa Mitaka just asked him out on a date. That's totally confusing, because he's pretty sure that she thinks he's a loser and an idiot. He's pretty sure that girls don't ask boys out unless they like them. Unless... maybe... she likes those things about him? Maybe she thinks that losers are cute and likes knowing that she's smarter than the guy she's dating. If that's true... It sucks that she hates Chainsaw Man, but he can get past that if there's a chance that someone actually likes Denji for once.

It's just a chance though. A teeny, tiny chance. It's also possible that she's just fucking with him or is a devil looking for a chance to kill him or the date will be a bust. But... there's also a chance that it will go well. There's a chance that she likes him.

He'll never know unless he says yes.

He opens his mouth to agree, already thinking about what he can do to afford a date…

...And remembers why he's saving money in the first place.

It would be one thing if it was still just Nayuta. She'd probably be pissy if she found out he was dating someone, but he feels pretty safe leaving her alone for a few extra hours to actually go on a date, at least. But Power? It was hard enough to justify leaving her with Nayuta for long enough to go to school and hawk some cigarettes. He can't afford to spend more time away from her.

He probably isn't going to be able to until…

He isn’t going to be able to do shit for a long-ass time.

"Shiiiit," Denji groans, raising a hand to scrub at the side of his face, as if it'll make him feel like any less of a moron who's actively damning himself to never get laid. It doesn't. Dropping it back to his side in defeat, he continues, "I can't."

He can't tell if Asa is pissed or stunned when she intones, "You can't."

Denji nods. "Yeah. It's not you; I'll give a chance to any girl who's interested-"

Asa makes a sharp choking noise and steps back with a horrified, appalled, disdainful look, like Denji's some sort of snot-covered worm. "That's disgusting," she bites out.

"No it isn't!" Denji cries. "I'm saying that you could miss out on good things if you judge everyone by first meetings! Like, you said that you hate Chainsaw Man-"

"You said that you were Chainsaw Man!"

"And I'm willing to give you a chance anyway!" Denji falters, frowning. "I mean. I would if I didn't have so much going on."

"You know what?" Asa snarls the question out before turning on her heel. "Never mind." As she storms off down the alleyway, he can just barely hear her mutter, "He's nothing like a cat."

"I'm sorry!" Denji calls after her.

Asa doesn't give any sign of having heard him.

"...Fuck," he sighs. If she liked him before, she definitely doesn't anymore.

Denji tries to ignore the heaviness in his chest as he lets out a sigh and starts trudging back home. That's enough cigarette selling for the day.

*

Denji is raising a pair of devil children.

He doesn't say that because Power and Nayuta are literally devils. No, he says it because while he was at school, Power got bored and filled the toilet with dirt, and Nayuta, still pissed that he didn't let her have three bowls of ice cream the day before, stood by and let it happen.

Worse yet, Denji is starting to suspect that a trowel isn't the tool for the job, even though the thing is broken because it's full of dirt.

Seriously. So much dirt. He doesn't even know where Power got it from, but the toilet was practically packed when he got home. Three hours later - a half hour of which had been spent sopping up the water that had been all over the bathroom floor - and he's still scooping bits out of the drain. There isn't much left at this point, which tells him that he should probably try to flush it soon, but the last time he did that, the toilet sputtered and screeched and threatened to overflow. If it does that again and he has to pay a plumber to fix it, he's gonna…

Fuck, he doesn't know. Stop giving the girls candy for a few days? Ground them? What does grounding even mean?

Denji dumps the last trowelful of dirt into the mud-filled bucket beside him, sets the trowel down on the back of the toilet, and rubs the back of his arm across his forehead. His wet, dirty-toilet-water-soaked arm. He realizes his mistake a few seconds too late. With a grimace and a sigh, he lowers his arm back to his side and stares down into the depths of the toilet bowl. The water is still dark and cloudy, but he's scooped all that he can scoop. What he can see looks more or less okay, but that doesn't mean that the toilet won't start spitting water the second he goes to flush it.

But unless they start acting totally gross and going to the bathroom in the shower, someone's gonna have to flush it eventually, so…

Denji stands up, carefully positions himself by the side of the toilet, and braces himself as he moves to flush.

The phone rings just before he can push the handle down.

He can't tell if the sigh that escapes him is relief or agitation. It's definitely agitation he feels when he passes through the living room and is met by a chorus of giggling. One of the voices at least has the decency to try to stifle itself, but the other is loud and shameless.

Denji shoots Power and Nayuta a flat, unimpressed glare.

Nayuta's giggling cuts off abruptly. She slumps down on the couch and looks at her lap, where she is wriggling her hands together in what just might be the closest thing that he's ever seen to anxiety from her.

Power laughs harder. Streaks of dirt are still smeared across her arms and face. He feels kinda bad for not having bathed her yet - Aki would've had her cleaned by now - but that's her own fault for potentially destroying their toilet.

"I still don't know if I'm going to ground you," Denji warns, pointing at her menacingly.

Power stops laughing. "You can't ground me," she sneers. "I will dig my way back up."

"That's not what grounding is," Denji intones.

"Then what is it?" Power demands with a confidence that would be totally unwarranted if Denji... actually... knew how grounding a kid worked. But she doesn't know that he doesn't know, and that's the important thing here.

"It's what you do with naughty devils, and you're gonna hate it," Denji firmly says. "So behave while I'm on the phone, or I'll super ground you."

Nayuta lifts her head to ask, "Can we watch TV?"

Denji narrows his eyes. The gremlins don't deserve TV after what they've done, but he get his ass moving and answer the phone before it stops wringing, and it'll keep them distracted while he's talking so... "Yeah, just don't watch any sex and murder and shit."

With that, he races into the kitchen, pulling the phone off the receiver a few seconds before it can stop ringing. "Hello?" he asks, even though he already knows who it's probably gonna be. There's pretty much only one person who ever calls these days.

It's funny, then, that the dread doesn't start to set in until he gets a response.

"Denji," Kishibe greets.

There's only one person who ever calls, and it's never just to say 'hi'.

"Kishibe," Denji returns, bright, casual, and trying not to focus on the tightness in his stomach. The old man isn't someone who calls just to catch up, but that doesn't necessarily mean that he has bad news either. Or, hell, maybe he is calling just to catch up and check in this time. Having two devil children instead of one may have been the extra push it took for him to get to this point. Either way, there's no reason for him to start worrying yet, so he's not gonna.

"D'you know how to ground a kid?" Denji asks, leaning back against the wall. "Power and Nayuta got into some shit; everything's fine unless you count the toilet, but I think I'm gonna have to-"

"Denji," Kishibe interrupts, stony and solemn. He sounds like a stormcloud on the horizon, a warning siren blaring through the air, that tiny voice that whispered 'no' in the back of Denji's mind in the seconds before disaster struck, always a heartbeat too late for him to do anything.

His stomach twists like someone's inserted a knife, his throat closes up, his eyes drift toward the living room, and he still manages to sound more or less normal when he asks, "Yeah?"

"The Gun Devil is back."

Just like that, the world falls out from under him. A great, invisible hand reaches into his insides and scoops them out, leaving only a pervading numbness. A meteor could crash into the city in that instant and he wouldn't notice it. At the same time, he is acutely aware of everything - the pounding of his heart, the chatter of the television the next room over, the soft giggling that started up again at some point without him noticing.

Lives that can be torn apart in seconds, if he lets them.

Denji doesn't make any conscious decisions, can't bring himself to think no matter how hard he tries, yet in the next instant, he's saying, "Alright. What do you need me to-"

"You don't have to fight him."

The world feels like it should be silent. It isn't; he can still hear the pounding of his heart, the blood rushing in his ears, the chatter of the television, the girls giggling in the living room, and now the buzz of the static filling his head. "Huh?"

"It's a long story, but he's... different."

The static doesn't clear away, but it does morph into a frantic, swirling, buzzing mass that is the closest he can get to actual thought right now. He can't make sense of any of it, but there are emotions that bleed through, a sense of hopelessness threatening to give way into something else, frantic desperation, and grief that he was never able to bury. Beneath it all, there is a question, one that tears his heart to shreds and fills his mind and leaves him unable to think at the same time.

If Kishibe doesn't need him to fight the Gun Devil, why is he calling him?

"Different how?" Denji asks, heavy and shaking like he's about to erupt into curses. Or, fuck, maybe it would be prayer.

Silence. His heartbeat. The television. Power and Nayuta talking. A life that's about to be shaken, one way or another.

"Kishibe. Different how?"

Chapter Text

Denji really needs to take the driver’s test and get himself a car. It’s just about the stupidest thing that he could be thinking about right now, but it flitters into his mind as he gets onto the train and stubbornly sticks for the entire commute. Juggling Power and Nayuta on a train the one time was enough of a nightmare, he doesn't know what he'll do if he has to deal with that every time he needs to take them somewhere. He isn't about to delude himself into thinking that they'll start behaving better; they won't. Sure, they could, but Power's a terror and Nayuta's rambunctious and they're a constant vortex of terrible influence on each other, so they won't. Not until they're a lot older, at least.

He can't just keep them cooped up in the apartment until they've grown out of some of their wildness. Denji needs to figure out a transportation plan now, especially with-

The train rattles to a halt. Denji lets out a long, rattling breath along with it, holding back the flood of thoughts threatening to overtake him. A quick glance at the train's display tells him that this is his stop. He hikes his backpack a little higher up his back with one hand. The other one flies into his pocket, grasping tightly onto the crinkled piece of paper residing in there. He doesn't feel the faint impacts of the people he bumps into as he shoulders his way off the train. The hustle and bustle of the platform fades into something vague and distant as he pulls the paper out of his pocket. Denji dully stares at it for a moment, failing to process what he is seeing.

The block in his mind falters, allowing the barely-contained sea of emotion to come trickling through.

"How did this happen?"

"No clue. The whole thing doesn't add up, really. The Gun Devil never had a 'mind' of its own as far as accounts go, no consciousness to speak of. My guess is since it wasn't whole, it latched onto whatever went to hell with it."

Denji jerks back to reality just as a barbed tendril of familiar heartache reaches its way into his chest. He viciously shoves it back, patches up his mental dam, and starts looking around the platform. It doesn't take long for him to find a giant map plastered onto the wall. He walks over to it, spends a moment glancing between it and the paper, and has to hold back a groan when he spots his destination.

Kishibe doesn't fuck around with his hidey-holes; he's going to have to walk five blocks to reach the apartment.

At least he'll have time to think.

Or not think.

Right now, he doesn't know which would be the better option. This feels like the sort of thing that he should make some sort of plan for. But planning for it would mean thinking about the things that he's tried so hard to avoid, the ones that he can't dwell on for long. Sure, it's always lurking in the back of his mind, surfacing in memories and regrets and a thousand little reminders that this world is shit and he's a murderer, but that's different from digging into it. If he lets himself really swell on it, he might... He doesn't know what will happen, but it's probably something that he can't afford right now.

Because Denji can't afford to have a breakdown. He can't be a crying, unstable, pathetic mess. He can't give Kishibe any reason to doubt him, he can't let any doubt or hesitation show, he can't upset-

Denji can't undo anything that's already happened, but god damnit, he can't fuck this up.

So maybe the answer is not to think about the past. It'll be fine if he just focuses on the future. What he'll say to Kishibe, how he'll handle this whole situation, what he's going to do about the girls when he gets home. It feels like a half-decent plan, and for the most part, it works. Denji leaves the train station behind, moving deeper and deeper into an increasingly shabby part of town, and doesn't get caught up in the things that destroy him.

Then he's standing in front of a shabby apartment building, and everything gets a whole lot harder.

"It's really him?"

"Seems like it.”

Denji swallows heavily. His feet feel like they're made of iron as he walks up to the apartment building, but there's an urgency pounding in his chest that keeps him from moving slowly. Each heartbeat brings a new possibility, a new fear, a new image that he refuses to look at for fear that it will send him back into the place he can't get lost in right now.

Yet that conversation continues playing out in the back of his mind, an endless loop that he's unable to shut down now that it's started. He doesn't even try, settling instead for trying not to get too caught up in it as he approaches the old brick building.

"I want you to know that you have no obligation here."

"What do you mean I have 'no obligation'!? I’m-"

"You already have two devils to take care of. I'm not going to dump another burden on you if you can't handle it."

"He's not a burden."

"You say that now..."

"I mean it."

Kishibe's latest hideout isn't the shittiest apartment complex Denji's ever seen, but it's up there. Long strips of paint are peeling off of the dull red door leading into the lobby. He's hit with a powerful musty stench when he pulls it open, like mold or mildew or one of the hundred other unpleasant things he'd gotten used to back when it was just him and Pochita. It sparks a flame of irritation within him, wondering what Kishibe's thinking by hiding in a place like this, but he quenches it almost immediately. There's no point in wondering what that old man's thinking at any given time.

"He isn't like the other two."

"What do you mean?"

There's a tired-looking old man reading a book behind the front desk. He doesn't even look up when Denji walks across the lobby and starts down one of the hallways. Which is fair, because Denji doesn't bother looking back at him either. His attention is absorbed by the faded yellow wallpaper, the dim overhead lights, and most importantly, the numbers written on the flimsy wooden doors. He counts them down with bated breath as he searches for the number written on the paper.

"He has some of his memories. They're scrambled to hell and back, but they're there."

"That's great!"

Finally, Denji finds himself standing in front of apartment 182. Everything in his body seems to seize up at once. His lungs constrict, his heart pounds even faster, sweat forms in the palms of his hands, and his mouth goes dry. It only lasts for an instant before he reminds himself what brought him here, and suddenly, he has to get past that door.

"No. It really isn't."

Denji knocks on the door as hard as he can.

An exceptionally haggard Kishibe answers it.

Like, exceptionally. Denji would assume that he just got out of a battle if not for the distinct lack of blood and sweat. He's wearing a stained, ill-fitting gray tank top and sweatpants, his hair is messy, his stubble is even worse than usual, and the dark bags under his eyes are as bad as he's ever seen them. It's... honestly probably more or less what Denji looks like right now, except he can't grow stubble and his oversized orange t-shirt is only a little stained.

Kishibe doesn't smell like booze for once. Surprise overcomes Denji at the realization, promptly followed by relief, understanding, and something that could almost be appreciation. No wonder the guy feels like shit if he's been dealing with this sober.

Denji might've had to chainsaw his ass if he'd been drunk this entire time.

The old man doesn't move right away. He just stands there, staring at Denji with undeniable exhaustion play out across his features.

Denji leans against the doorframe and flashes a peace sign. "Yo," he says. "I'm here."

Kishibe sighs heavily. "Yes, you are."

He turns around to walk back into the apartment, leaving the door wide open behind him. Denji takes that as his cue to enter.

The apartment is... well, it's not the worst place he's ever been in. There's a kitchenette off to the side, but when Denji peers toward it, he finds it devoid of pretty much everything. If he were to raid the fridge and cabinets, he suspects that he would find some basic sustenance, but nothing that's actually good. The living room is completely empty aside from a ratty couch and a small television that is either turned off or outright broken. As he walks into the room, he takes note of the half-faded stains marking the walls, the odd musty scent in the air, and the dust clinging to the shabby window embedded into the wall.

All in all, it's about what he would expect from one of Kishibe's temporary hideouts. It's a temporary place to stay that you won't get too attached to and don't want to spend too much time in. It's fine, really. But…

Denji never really minded living in his little shack. Yeah, it was shitty and he wished he could live someplace better, but it was the option available to him at the time and he knew how to make do. Sometimes he'd feel guilty about keeping Pochita in that place. It was like a bunch of ropes wrapping around his lungs and stomachs and constricting, not enough to cause him any real pain, but too hard for him to be comfortable.

Now, he almost feels like he might be sick.

Denji starts to shrug out of his backpack, but wiggles his shoulders to slide it back into place before it can fall off. This place sucks for him, it must be worse for... Pretty much anyone who isn't him or Kishibe. He isn't going to be in this place long enough for it to be worth getting comfortable.

"Alright!" he exclaims, looking around the apartment once more. He can see three closed doors; one of them is obviously a closet, which means that one of the others will be a bathroom and the other will be a bathroom. His eyes flicker between the two doors. "Tell me where he is and I'll-"

"Denji," Kishibe interrupts. He hasn't moved more than a few feet away from the door. His gaze cuts like a knife nonetheless, dark and heavy like a warning. "I meant what I said. You don't have to take him."

Not this shit, Denji thinks. Irritation wells up within him; irritation and something much more sharp and desperate. It's a combination of both that makes him glare at Kishibe.

He doesn't look even remotely intimidated.

"So did I," Denji says. "I want to do this."

I need to do this.

Kishibe narrows his eyes ever so slightly, lips tugging downward.

Denji grits his jaw. "If you were gonna give me shit, why'd you tell me about him in the first place!?" he demands.

"Thought you'd try to kill me if you found out that I didn't." Kishibe's hand slips down to his side, closing around the empty air where a flask should be. He looks up at the ceiling as he visibly holds back a sigh.

Denji's scowl deepens. "And you think I won't if you turn around and say I can't take him home?"

"Oh, you'll try." Kishibe walks toward the kitchen, gesturing for Denji to follow. He does so reluctantly, feet dragging so heavily against the floor that he's practically stomping. He watches as Kishibe pours himself a glass of scotch and chugs it in one go. After he refills it, he sets it aside and reaches to grab another glass, raising his eyebrows in question.

Denji shakes his head.

"I'm not saying you can't take him," Kishibe says, sliding the second glass back into the cupboard. "I would've found a way to keep you blind to this whole situation if that was the case. But you need to understand, this kid is damaged. He'd be hard for an experienced adult to deal with, and you already have Power and Nayuta to worry about. I'm trying to keep you from walking into something you can't handle."

It doesn't matter if I can handle it, Denji almost says. Only the desperate thing wedged deep in his chest tells him, the thing warning him that he can't mess this up. Now that he knows there's a chance, he's going to get him back one way or another, but the easier this whole process is, the better it will be for everyone. Denji won't…

He can't hurt him more than necessary.

Not again.

"What's our other option? You raise him?" Denji challenges.

Kishibe seems to deflate. He leans heavily against the counter, the exhaustion showing through his face a little more clearly. Denji expects him to say of course not, that he has some other contact to dump him off with, or worse, that he could arrange something with public safety.

Instead, he murmurs, "If I have to."

Denji blinks. For a moment, he looks at Kishibe in a different light. For the first time, he wonders if that might be the shadow of guilt reaching out across his face.

Then he shoves it aside and focuses on the thing that needs to be the priority right now.

"Yeah, something tells me that you aren't the best choice for raising a problem child either." If he really is that much trouble. Honestly, it just sounds so wrong. But for the sake of getting through to the old man, he'll go along with it. Crossing his arms and forcing a smile across his face, he adds, "Besides, it's probably a good thing that I have Power and Nayuta! Socialization and all that shit."

Kishibe doesn’t move.

Denji steps forward and braces his hands on the counter. “He should be with his family,” he says, or maybe the word is pleas, low and urgent.

“...Second door on the left,” Kishibe sighs, looking up warily. “Go slow, and don’t act surprised when he’s not like you remember.”

“Thank you,” Denji murmurs.

He doesn’t waste any time. His footsteps are slow and steady, but it still only takes what feels like a few heartbeats to find himself standing in front of the second door on the left.

The door fits in perfectly with the rest of the apartment. It looks like it might have once been white, but enough dull, faded stains now cover it that gray is a better descriptor. That gray-white paint is peeling at the edges. With the way the wood is chipped at the top and bottom, it actually looks like the door itself is peeling. Denji suspects that he could knock the whole thing over with one good thump. Instead, he does the civil, non-threatening thing and grabs onto the dull brass doorknob.

He doesn't realize how sweaty his hand is until his skin clings uncomfortably to the metal.

Denji doesn't hesitate, yet it feels like it takes an eternity for him to open the door.

It takes even longer for him to process what he sees beyond it.

Calling the bedroom ‘spartan’ is putting it nicely. Ugly gray carpeting covers the floor, pairing well with the pale blue wallpaper in the sense that they're both miserable. The musty smell still permeates the air here, but it's not quite as bad as the rest of the apartment. There's a small, paper-covered desk pressed up against the left wall. It has a chair pressed under it and a decently-sized duffle bag sitting beside it. The window built into the far wall is the only source of lighting in the dull room. A futon sits beneath it, and on it, a tiny figure sits cross-legged, his face buried in a book.

Denji's heart leaps into his throat and stops beating. His lungs constrict, his eyes burn, and suddenly, all he can think is, I'm sorry.

Blue eyes dart up to look at him. It only lasts for a second before they're turned back to the book, but that second is long enough for him to realize that something is off about their shape. Something is off about the shape, but the color is exactly the same, and that is enough to jolt his paralyzed heart back into motion and remind him that he has a job to do.

The child doesn't move as he walks across the room. He doesn't look up when he crouches down at the edge of the futon. Denji catches the way his grip on his book tightens, notices the black of his fingernails and the flecks of silver dotting his wrists, barely poking out beyond the edges of his long-sleeved blue shirt, but as he waits, all that greets him is silence.

That's alright. It's probably what he deserves, after all.

"Hey, Aki," he breathes. "Do you remember me?"

Silence. Aki's shoulders stiffen, and for a moment, Denji thinks that he's going to go ignored. It makes him feel like he should be frozen, but instead, he feels as if he is in the midst of running a marathon, blood pumping through him lightning quick, the sweat on his skin catching the cold draft of the miserable apartment. It feels like he is about to reach the finish line, that precipice that would complete him, the answer to his wordless prayers, and now the rug is going to be pulled out from under him.

It would be what he deserves, after what he did.

But as the seconds tick by, Aki's shoulders loosen. Ever so slowly, he lowers his book and looks up at Denji.

Suddenly, he's looking at Aki. Aki's... eyes... he's. So much smaller. Younger. Denji feels sick to his stomach, a heretic looking at a miracle that wasn't meant for him. Yet here he is.

It takes a moment for Denji to get past his mere existence and notice everything else that is different. The brilliant blue of Aki’s eyes is the same, but his pupils have been reshaped into the crosshairs of a gun. They spin and refocus as he stares up at Denji, and his heart beats a little harder as he realizes that he isn’t the only one staring. Wisps of metal frame his eyes; if he didn’t know better, he might have assumed that they were eyeshadow.

All of these details are glaring signs of inhumanity, yet in those short, timeless seconds, the thing that he keeps coming back to is his youth.

Denji didn't think he came into this with any expectations in mind. To do so felt incredibly, inexcusably ungrateful. He was going to take Aki in no matter what form he took. That much is still true, but he guesses that some higher being still found a way to call his bluff.

Aki isn’t just young, he looks like he might be younger than Power, even if only by a few months. His hands are so tiny. Those hands that used to light up nasty cigarettes and cooked all those delicious meals. Denji finds that he can't wrap his head around a single detail for long, whiplashed into staring at the young devil like a complete fool.

Eventually, Aki looks down at his lap. “...You’re Denji,” he whispers.

“Yeah,” Denji barely manages to choke out. “I…”

I’m sorry I killed you.

I didn’t want to.

I know that doesn’t change anything.

I don’t blame you if you don’t forgive me.

I love you.

The burning in his eyes builds to a breaking point. Denji realizes that he isn’t going to be able to stop himself from crying. With a quiet curse, he reaches up to try and wipe the tears out of his eyes just as they begin to fall.

This doesn’t go unnoticed. Crosshairs spin and constrict as Aki stares up at him with wide, glimmering eyes. It’s when Denji fails to hold back a pathetic sniffle, as he’s struggling to keep from devolving into full-fledged sobs, that Aki quietly asks, “Why are you crying?”

Denji forces his arm back down to his side. The tears keep falling, because of fucking course they do. “I-” Am so fucking sorry. “-Thought I wasn’t ever going to see you again. Now that you’re here, I’m really happy.”

“I’ve never…” Aki trails off, frowning. The glimmer in his eyes deepens, and Denji realizes what that glimmer is a second before the first tear falls.

“Hey, hey now!” Denji cries. He leans forward, one hand reaching out, only to catch himself and freeze at the last second. His stomach twists horribly as he reminds himself that being a better choice of a caretaker than Kishibe doesn’t mean that he has any right to initiate touch after what he’s done. No matter how much it hurts, he needs to let Aki have his distance. No matter how far away that may be.

Denji takes in a deep breath and forces himself to pull back.

Aki lunges forward and wraps his arms around his neck before he has a chance. “I’m sorry,” he whispers between sobs.

Denji blinks. Then he’s holding onto Aki, holding him as tightly as he dares, feeling every tremor passing through his tiny body. “The fuck’re you sorry for?” he chokes, belatedly realizing that he probably shouldn’t be cussing in front of a child his age and then deciding that he doesn’t give a shit right now.

Aki doesn’t give him an answer, burying his face in his shoulder with a whimper.

It’s enough for now. It’s more than enough. Denji holds Aki until he stops crying, only barely managing to bring his own tears to a stop about two minutes beforehand, and thinks that there’s nothing in the world that he could have done to deserve this.

"You alright?" Denji asks once Aki's been quiet for a little while.

He feels rather than sees his shaky nod. A second later, Aki wiggles out of his grasp. Denji tries his best not to be bothered by that, nor how Aki looks away from him as he settles back down on the futon. "What are you doing here?" he murmurs.

Denji starts to open his mouth, but clamps it back shut before he can say, Just felt like paying the old man a visit. The little boy before him is not the adult he knew; everything about this short interaction has made that perfectly clear. And there's something to be said about that. It's something that makes his heart ache even though he's barely even thought about it yet, something that he knows will keep him up at night in the days to come. Right now, though, he shoves all that aside and focuses on the fact that he probably shouldn't talk to tiny devil Aki the same way he talked to grown-up human Aki.

He has to be honest with him. Or at least, as honest as he dares. As honest as he can afford to be when he's so small and, judging by the sudden crying jag, probably a lot more fragile than he remembers.

"I'm here for you," Denji says. "I figured you'd rather come back home with me and Power than stay with the old man in this shitty apartment."

Aki shifts, but doesn't say anything. He doesn't look at him, and with how his face is angled away, he can't see his expression.

It is then that Denji finally acknowledges the thing that he's tried so hard to avoid. He was prepared to take Aki home no matter what, but that doesn't mean that Aki will be willing to come with him. Kishibe said that he isn't like other devils, he has memories. Even if the old man wasn't able to tell him exactly how much he remembers, if he remembers how it ended... He remembers Denji. Maybe that's what Kishibe meant by the memories being a bad thing. Who in the world would want to go home with their murderer?

Denji doesn't want to know the answer, doesn't know what he'll do if it is what he fears it will be, yet he forces himself to ask, "Do you want to?"

The thing in Denji's head that keeps track of the passage of time tells him that it doesn't take as long for Aki to respond to this as some of his other questions. However, that thing is firmly stunted by the pulsating chord of anxiety that has wrapped itself around his lungs. He feels the passing of every second as Aki shifts his weight from side to side and slowly looks up at him. He's painfully aware of the hesitation on his face as his whirling, anxious eyes stare up at him.

He feels like he might break down crying again when he looks off to the side and murmurs, "Please."

The flood of relief is immediate - and immediately flushes his brain cells down the drain. Once again, Denji barely himself before he blurts out something stupid. Aki isn't his older brother now. He isn't quite his little brother yet either. A smartass remark that will brush the heavy emotions aside sits on the tip of his tongue. He shoves it aside and instead finds himself measuring and filtering his words.

The mental switch is giving him whiplash. He feels elation and he feels a turning in his stomach, threatening to make him sick.

Later. He'll think about it later, once Aki's home and settled and he has a chance to think without losing too much sleep.

Or maybe it'll be easier if he doesn't think about it at all.

"Alright," Denji says. "You got anything that you wanna bring with you?"

It takes a moment for Aki to respond, but that's fine. This time, Denji can breathe. This time, it doesn't feel like everything is balancing on the edge of a knife. "Just the bag," Aki murmurs, nodding his head toward the duffle bag sitting hiding under the table. And yeah, okay, Denji's a little less fine with how quietly he says that, but he can't quite pinpoint what about it is bothering him, let alone figure out what to do about it, so he lets it slide.

"Well, that's easy enough," he murmurs for the sake of filling the silence.

As he's rising to his feet, Aki says, "We don't need to take it."

Denji shoots him a skeptical look. "Everything you've got is in that bag."

"Yeah."

Denji snorts and rolls his shoulders to adjust his backpack. "How scrawny do I look that you don't think I can handle carrying two bags? We're taking it."

Especially since that bag isn't nearly big enough to hold everything a kid Aki's age needs. Maybe a kid like Denji, but he'll be damned before he lets him end up like he was at his age. It'll do for one night though. It'll have to do for one night, since he isn't going to risk leaving Aki alone or dragging him out to the mall when he only just got him.

...He's going to have to buy a third futon. The one Aki's sitting on is stained and smells like dust, and while Denji can get by sleeping on a pile of pillows, he isn't going to make him do the same thing. And until he can get that third futon, he's going to need to ask Nayuta and Power to sleep together, which is going to be... An adventure. At least they get along well enough now that it won't cause any major disaster.

Probably.

Hopefully.

Denji shoves that thought aside into the pile of things to deal with later and grabs the duffle bag. He zips it shut, noting that it's only a little more than halfway full, before looking at Aki over his shoulder. The kid is standing hesitantly at the edge of the futon, fidgeting as he glances around the room.

Fuck. He can't remember older Aki ever looking that anxious.

"You ready?" he asks, soft in the way that he'd only ever been with the old Aki after a major fuck-up, like the day after they faced the Darkness Devil and... pretty much just the day after the Darkness Devil. Aki had told him not to worry about him, Denji had accepted that he was fine, and he'd stopped.

This Aki doesn't do anything of the sort. If anything, he seems to take some comfort in that softness, offering a small nod and wordlessly following after him.

"We're heading out," Denji calls out into the apartment. He knows that he might be cutting it a little short, that just grabbing Aki and walking out of the apartment after all of the fuss Kishibe made earlier might be a little too easy…

...And he's right. Denji is still several paces from the door when Kishibe intercepts him with a heavy hand on his shoulder and a firm, "Wait a minute."

Denji purses his lips. "Do we really gotta do this again?" he asks, jerking his head toward Aki. He's come to a stop about a foot behind him, looking hesitantly between him and Kishibe.

Kishibe shakes his head. "I know there won't be any swaying you. I wanted to let you know that I'm going to be in the area for the next two weeks. If you need help when you adjust, call me."

"...Wait, seriously?" Denji asks after balking like an idiot for a few seconds.

"I think this is enough of a special circumstance to warrant it."

"...Right," Denji says, because he isn't going to jinx himself by saying that he couldn't have imagined any situation that would have ended in Kishibe volunteering to babysit. He looks at Aki, who stares back at him in blatant confusion, then whips his attention back to Kishibe, an idea bursting to life in his mind. "While you're doing favors, could you send a plumber to the apartment? As soon as possible?"

Kishibe's eyes narrow. "What did they do?"

Denji rubs the back of his head, the duffle bag slipping down onto his shoulder. "Ah, you know. Normal Power stuff."

The only man eyes him skeptically for a few moments before heaving a sigh. "I'll have someone there within an hour."

So before Denji gets home. That's probably for the best, considering that he's going to have to deal with getting an entire extra child settled in. "Great!" he says. "Tell them to go on in and don't pay much attention to the girls. They should behave."

They'd better. If they stop the toilet from getting fixed on top of breaking it, he's going to learn everything there is to know about grounding and get their asses.

Kishibe nods, his gaze sliding over to Aki. It lingers for a long moment, and Denji swears that he sees a glimmer of something on that grizzled face of his.

Aki offers a stiff bow, and the old man turns back to Denji with a sigh. "Be careful," he says.

Denji flashes him a thumbs up. "Will do." With that, he takes in a deep breath and walks out the front door, Aki following it after him.

They only make it a few feet before the sound of rapid footsteps makes Denji turn his head. Aki runs back to the apartment, through the open door, and, before Kishibe reacts, pulls him into a tight hug. It only lasts for about two seconds before he races back to Denji, eyes locked firmly on the ground.

Denji raises an eyebrow. "What was that?"

"Nothing," Aki mumbles.

Denji leaves his eyebrow raised. Aki ducks his head lower, a blush prickling at the tips of his ears, and he decides to show him some mercy. He's not going to tease a kid for getting attached to the person he spent the past however long with, no matter how tempting it is, even if he would have mercilessly done so with the older Aki. Besides, the old man isn't as heartless as he likes to make out. He probably needed the hug.

"If you say so," he says. "Are you gonna be able to keep up, or do you need me to carry you?"

Aki lifts his head to scowl at him. "How little do you think I am?" he demands.

"I mean..." Denji gestures at him. He's not shorter or more delicate than Power - which would be quite the feat, considering that she's absolutely microscopic, but he isn't much bigger than her, either. He's definitely shorter than Nayuta. He's young and fragile and small, with short, stubby legs that look like they might struggle to keep up with Denji as they trek their way back to the train station.

Yet he sticks his nose up in the air, sniffs, and grumbles, "I can walk."

Denji doesn't bother trying not to look unconvinced. "If you say so," he mutters, and for a moment, Aki glowers at him fiercely. Then something in his expression falters and he looks away, leaving Denji to wonder if Aki's doubting his own claims of independence or Denji did something.

He can't be messing things up already, can he? That would be... he can't be making big mistakes this early on. He can't.

"I'm not trying to make ya feel embarrassed or anything," he hastily adds. "Let me know if you need help, okay?"

Aki nods, but doesn't look back at him.

Fuck, Denji thinks.

They drift into silence after that. Denji feels like he should be talking, he wants to say something, but everything that he can think of feels wrong. Everything is too little or too much. It would probably be easier if Aki said something first, but the kid is silent as the grave. He's slow, too, just like Denji expected. Oh, he's trying his best to keep up, but that doesn't stop him from falling behind every block or so. Denji stops to wait for him to catch up every time he notices him lagging. More than once, he considers taking his hand to keep them moving at the same pace. The insidious, grating, twisting feeling that it isn't his place, that he doesn't have the right, stops him from doing so.

Aki wordlessly slips his hand into his when they get on the train. His grip is tight and makes Denji's heart convulse in a way that almost makes him laugh to think that he once thought it wasn't there at all.

The train ride to Kishibe's place felt like it took forever. Now that he has Aki with him and is trying to figure out how he's going to handle introducing him to the girls, it seems to zip by at the speed of light. The walk to the apartment is even shorter. Before he knows it, he's standing in front of the door, looking uncertainly between Aki and the doorknob.

Aki looks up at him, his own uncertainty mirrored on his face, and Denji remembers that right. He shouldn't keep him waiting out here for longer than is absolutely necessary. He's gotta get his ass in gear.

"Right," he says, crouching down to Aki's level. "First thing you've gotta know. We've got seven dogs-"

"Seven!?" Aki cries in dismay.

"Yeah, but it's fine, kids love dogs-"

"I don't!"

"Okay, but how long've you been alive?" Denji asks.

Aki looks off to the side.

"Have you ever been around a dog?"

There's a beetle on the apartment door. Aki seems to be staring at it very intently, the scopes in his eyes spinning like a top.

"Then how do you know you don't like dogs?"

"They're big and hairy, and you've got seven of them!" Aki exclaims, finally looking back at him.

Denji waves a hand dismissively. "Yeah, and you'll probably love them eventually. Anyway, unless Nayuta has them in the bedroom, they're probably gonna come running up. They won't jump on you though, so don't worry about that."

Aki looks unconvinced, but when he opens his mouth to argue, he shuts it abruptly, makes an uncertain face, and looks away again.

Okay. That's... something, but it's probably for the best that he just keeps going.

"Nayuta and Power will be curious too, but I'll handle everything with them, so just-"

"Who's Nayuta?" Aki asked, looking back at him with undisguised anxiety.

Denji feels a familiar pit of dread twist inside his stomach. He shoves it to the side before it can make him start worrying for no reason. "She's another kid who lives with me," he says. "She's a bit of a-" Control freak. "-she can be a lot, but it'll be fine. You'll like her."

Nayuta and Power are fine now. They figured out how to get along after just a few days, and that's Power. Aki will be no problem at all.

"If you say so," Aki mutters.

And that's probably the best that Denji's going to get right now, so he decides to roll with it. There's one more thing that he wants to ask, a question that's wriggling on the tip of his tongue. Yet when he opens his mouth to ask if Aki remembers Power, his stomach twists so hard that he almost feels like he could puke, and he decides that maybe it's better to wait and see.

"That's about it," Denji finishes. "Think you're ready to go in?"

Aki nods.

"Alright," Denji breathes, standing back up. "Let's go." He opens the door, and…

"DENJI! Some fat man stuck his hands in the toilet!" Power shrieks from the direction of the living room.

"He was fixing the toilet!" Nayuta sharply corrects.

"I don't trust it! 'Tis going to suck us in!"

"You can't fit in the toilet!"

"It will expand and eat us both!"

"Only a devil could do something like that."

"You think that cretin brought the toilet devil into our home?"

"No!"

"Yes! 'Tis what you said!"

"I did not!"

"DENJI! NAYUTA'S LYING AGAIN!"

"I'M NOT LYING, YOU LIAR!"

Aki takes a step back.

Denji offers him a weak smile and gestures into the apartment. "Look," he says. "No dogs. Nayuta must've locked them up."

Aki shoots him a look that says that he would have preferred the dogs.

“Come on,” Denji coaxes, jerking his head toward the inside of the apartment. “Please?”

Aki hesitates for a moment before offering a tiny nod and stepping inside.

Denji walks in behind him and closes the door.

About three seconds later, all hell breaks loose.

"Denji! What's taking so long!" Power shrieks. It's accompanied by the sound of two sets of footsteps, one stomping loudly, the other moving so gracefully that he can barely detect it at all.

A glance at Aki reveals him grimacing. Slowly, he shuffles toward Denji, coming closer and closer to hiding behind his legs. Once again, his heart does something funny, because the older Aki would never.

But he isn't older anymore. That's the entire point. It sticks in his throat in a way that it hadn't with Power, but he swallows it down and reminds himself that he's going to have to get used to it sooner rather than later. For now, he pretends that this is all already normal and says, "Hey, it's okay. You don't gotta be scared. It's just-"

"Who is that!?" Power's shrill voice cuts in from the doorway. Denji turns around to see her pointing accusatorially at Aki, who's frozen like a deer in the headlights where he's half-hidden behind his leg. Nayuta stands a few feet behind her, eyeing Aki pensively. Of course, that only lasts for a few seconds. The instant Power takes a step forward, Nayuta shoves her way in front of her and holds her arms out.

"Nayuta!" Power squawks.

"You didn't tell us you were bringing someone back," Nayuta says. The accusation in her voice is bad enough, but when she sniffs the air and her eyes narrow into sharp slits, Denji knows that he's going to have to start explaining fast.

"Sorry, shit happened fast," Denji said. "This is-"

"A devil!" Power cries, flailing from behind Nayuta. The older girl tries her best to block her, but in the blink of an eye, Power's slipped out from under her arms and has started forward.

"Power!" Nayuta shrieks, starting after her.

"I can smell it!" Power continues, undeterred. "A rancid fiend! Let me through and I shall-"

Power freezes in her tracks, causing Nayuta to stagger to a confused stop behind her. She looks between Power and Denji in bewilderment. Meanwhile, Power's wide, disbelieving eyes are locked on Aki. Denji watches, his heart caught in his throat, as he stares back for a few seconds before looking down at the ground.

Those few seconds are enough. Power takes a tentative step forward and whispers, "..Aki?"

Aki hesitantly looks back up.

"Aki!" Power shrieks.

Denji reflexively steps to the side just in time to avoid Power bowling into his legs. This clears a path for her to launch herself at Aki, wrapping her arms around him and tackling him to the ground. He falls back with a gentle 'oof'.

"You're back!" Power exclaims, sitting up to straddle Aki's chest. "I knew you'd be back! Denji's an idiot!"

"...Power," Aki breathes.

Power presses her hands against Aki's cheeks and frowns. "Why are you so small?" she demands.

Aki makes an indignant sputtering sound, shaking his head in a futile attempt to dislodge Power's hands. "Why are you so small!?" he huffs out.

"I asked you first!"

"I..." Aki turns his head away.

Power pulls her hands back. "Aki?" she prompts, gently poking his cheek.

Ah, crap. "Hey, Powy? Why don't you let him up?" Denji hastily suggests.

"Denji, what's going on?" Nayuta asks, for once more hesitant than demanding as she walks over to stand beside him. "I thought Aki was a human?"

"Yeah, that's..." Denji glances at Power, who has scrambled off of Aki and is in the process of tugging him back to his feet, and back at Nayuta. "It's a long story. But I'll tell you later, alright?"

Nayuta stares up at him with a pensive frown.

Denji tries not to sound like his heart is trying to hammer its way out of his chest as he murmurs, too low for the other two to hear, "Please, Nayuta?"

Nayuta eyes him for a moment longer before letting out a gentle sigh and turning toward Aki. "Hi," she says, taking a step forward. "I'm-"

Aki grabs Power's wrist, drags her over to stand by Denji, and steps in front of them both. Her disgruntled squawk goes ignored as he stares Nayuta down. Denji feels his blood run cold, but it’s a delayed reaction, coming far too slow for him to do anything when Aki is wired. Every inch of his body is shaking, but his bright blue eyes, pupils constricted into tiny, whirling pinpricks, glimmer with as much rage as terror. "Control Devil," he hisses. “Stay away from us.”

Confusion and hurt cascade across Nayuta's face for one aching moment before being buried beneath indignant anger. What starts as a sputter quickly morphs into a cry of outrage and she exclaims, "Wha- No! This is my home! They're mine!"

Aki takes half a step back, leaving him practically pressed against Denji and Power. "Nobody here is yours!" he spits. "You don't own anyone! You're-"

"Hold up!" Denji exclaims, stepping out from behind Aki to stand between the two children. He holds his arms out to act as a barrier - a barrier for what, he has no fucking clue, but it lets him feel like he's doing something without bodily separating them. "How about you actually get to know each other before waging war or whatever?"

Denji's heart is in his throat, but he thinks he does a decent job of not sounding like it. It's trying to hammer its way out, yet he still manages to keep himself more or less stable as he shoots Aki and Nayuta pleading looks. There's a terrible cloud of dread growing in the back of his mind, but when Nayuta shoots him a hesitant, considering look, a glimmer of hope still manages to break through.

It disintegrates when Aki takes another step back - arm extended to force Power further from Nayuta and growls, "I do know her. She's-" Aki pauses. His lips twist, the scopes in his eyes spin furiously, and he glances up at Denji for an instant before refocusing on Nayuta and declaring, "She's dangerous."

Nayuta stomps forward, Aki flinches back, and Denji has to drop down and wrap an arm around her waist to stop her from going any further.

"You're dangerous!" Nayuta shouts. "I can smell it! You're-"

Denji feels his stomach curdle. "Hey!" he cuts in. "I mean it! It's been a long day and I'm not going to deal with an argument right now!"

There's no missing the betrayal in Nayuta's eyes when she looks up at him. Oh, there's indignation and anger and outrage too, but it's the betrayal that cuts. It's the betrayal that Denji knows is going to haunt him when he tries and inevitably fails to sleep tonight. It's the faint, easily-missable quiver in his voice that makes him feel like a failure when she says, "But he's the one who-"

"I know," Denji murmurs, low enough that he hopes it won't carry over to Aki and Power. "But he's younger than you, and he's been through a lot, and-" I don't know how much he remembers. "-This is a whole big mess of a situation, but I'm taking care of it. So just... Wait in the living room and I’ll handle it."

"What if you can't handle it?" Nayuta counters.

"Then we'll deal with it when we get there," he says, because he can't begin to explain to her just how badly he needs that to not be an option.

Nayuta scowls up at him for a moment longer before looking away. "I don't like it."

"I know."

"He can't make me stay away from you and Power."

"You're right. He's way too little for stuff like that."

"I was being nice, and he freaked out for no reason!" Nayuta looks up at him again, scowl fresh and invigorated. "He'd better apologize."

Denji manages a weak smile. "Maybe later." He pulls his arm back, only to turn around and poke her in the stomach. "Go on," he whispers. "You can watch whatever you want while I take care of Aki."

Nayuta shoots him one last lingering, uncertain look. "Come get me if he tries anything," she murmurs before walking away.

"Sure," Denji says, even though he knows he won't. There isn't a single part of him that's scared that Aki might try to hurt them, but he does suddenly have a million fears involving him, and as he turns around to face the little guy, they fight to claim the forefront of his mind. He pushes them all back for the sake of remaining calm, in control, and more or less functional.

Power is clinging to Aki's arm, but her eyes and flickering between him, Denji, and the doorway Nayuta disappeared into. The scopes in Aki's eyes have stopped spinning, the dots of his pupils constricted into tiny points that are laser-focused on that same place. Denji clears his throat, and they start spinning again, sliding over to focus on him. A scowl falls across his face, and Denji feels like a bomb is about to drop.

And there's nothing he can do but push ‘detonate’.

He still tries to tiptoe his way around it. "How about we-"

"You care about her," Aki accuses. It's the same voice as Nayuta, the same hurt and betrayal, and Denji knows that he isn't getting any sleep tonight.

"Yeah. I care about all the kids I take care of," Denji says, even though he knows that it won't be enough. Even though he knows that there's nothing he can do but brace himself and try not to wince when as he waits for Aki's response.

"But she's evil," he insists, and it's pretty much exactly what Denji expected, but it still manages to hit harder than he’d anticipated.

He's trying to figure out how to explain that she really isn't, what he'll need to explain in order to get that across, when Power asks, "Why are you saying that? Nayuta isn't evil. She won't hurt us." She lets go of Aki's arm and shoots him a proud, smug grin. "She wouldn't dare while I'm around."

"She's the Control Devil," Aki repeats, like that's all that matters. In his mind, maybe it is.

Power's grin disappears. She shoots Aki an odd, confused look. "So?" she asks. "Aren't you a devil too?"

Denji sees it as the light drains out of Aki's eyes. His expression goes slack, his shoulders hunch, his gaze drops to the floor, and Denji is struck by how much he's never seen a child look so much like they want to disappear.

"Power, why don't you go in the living room with Nayuta," Denji coaxes.

Power frowns up at him. "But-"

"You two can watch whatever you want and I won't turn it off until it's time for bed."

Power scampers off without another word.

Aki doesn't move an inch.

Denji crouches down in front of him with a sigh. He moves to put a hand on his shoulder, but hesitates and draws it back at the last second. "Aki?" he prompts.

Aki hums, but doesn't look away from the spot of floor he's staring at.

"What..." The words are getting caught in his throat. He doesn't want to ask this question right now, doesn't think he wants the answers, not when something that should be fantastic has come to be tainted by a twisting undercurrent of dread. But his feelings aren't important, not compared to the possibility of Aki and Nayuta trying to murder each other, so he pulls his shit together and asks, "What do you remember?"

"I don't know," Aki mumbles.

Denji blinks. "You don't... know?" How can you not know?

Aki shrugs. "I'm tired. Is there..." He painstakingly looks up at Denji's face, but still isn't making eye contact with him. "Can I go to sleep? Please?"

He's lying, Denji realizes. He's lying and deflecting and trying to avoid the conversation, and Denji really shouldn't let him get away with it so easily. But even if he isn't all that tired, Denji is. He's exhausted and overjoyed and overwhelmed and has no clue where to go from here, but he needs to figure it out before tomorrow morning, and he still hasn't done anything about dinner yet.

So he takes the easy way out, even though he has a sinking feeling that it might turn around to bite him in the ass later.

He lets the kid get away with it.

"Yeah," he sighs. "Alright, yeah. Let's get you taken care of."

Chapter Text

Technically, Denji supposes that he could say that they slip into a routine in the days following Aki’s arrival. He refuses to on account of the fact that the situation is fuck awful and calling it a routine would imply that things are going to stay like this. No, it isn't a routine, it's a holding pattern, and one that he needs to break before he goes completely insane.

Aki insists on sleeping in his own room. It makes Denji's stomach squirm in a way that he can't put into words, but he has to admit that forcing him to share a room with Nayuta would probably be a bad idea, so he agrees. When he offers to sleep in the open room with him, Aki turns him down, which makes his stomach squirm harder, but he can't think of a reason not to let him sleep alone, so he agrees to that too.

At least Power and Nayuta don't put up a fight when he tells them that they're going to have to sleep together until he can get another futon.

In the chaos of it all, he doesn't get the chance to talk to Nayuta the way he needs to. Sure, she understands that Aki is important to Denji and Power, but she's still pissed off that the Gun Devil had the gall to call her dangerous, upset that he doesn't like her for what seems like no reason at all, and pissy when Denji asks her to give him a chance and try her best to be nice to him.

At least putting the conversation off means that she doesn't ask any questions that he can't answer.

The next three days are tense and uncomfortable for absolutely everyone. Aki and Nayuta alternate between outright avoidance and glaring daggers at each other whenever they are forced to interact, barely stopping short of outright spitting venom. Power obviously doesn’t know whose side she’s supposed to be on, and Denji is caught between trying to get that situation stable and keeping his outside life from completely falling apart. He can't afford to take much more time off of school after all the days he missed after getting Power. Kishibe has been keeping his promise and watching the kids while Denji's at school, but he's made it clear that it's not a permanent solution. He needs to figure something out fast, or else dropping out is going to be back on the table.

At least there haven't been any major fights since that first night.

Then there's the other major issue, the one that he can't find an 'at least' for no matter how hard he tries.

Aki has been acting off ever since he got home.

Actually, that's not fair. Everyone's been acting off. Aki being weird is probably just a part of that. Because for all that the children form a fraught, unstable, emotional whole, all three of them have been struggling as individuals as well.

Considering the circumstances, Aki is probably the least worrying one. He's been quiet in a way that the older Aki never was. Sullen and withdrawn, he responds to questions with simple answers and avoids drawn-out conversations. He avoids everyone as much as possible within the confines of the apartment. It would be terrifying if it weren't so understandable considering the circumstances. Unfortunately, that doesn't make it any easier to deal with. Denji tries to reach out, but he feels like he's walking on glass, all too aware that he doesn't know what sort of shit is going through Aki's scrambled kiddie brain and wary that he may accidentally make it worse.

Power has no such problems. She actively tries to drag Aki out of his shell, bold, ceaseless, and unapologetic, only to grow more and more frustrated when each and every attempt is rebuffed. When she gets tired of fruitlessly picking at Aki, she turns to Nayuta, only to find herself faced with a frostiness that is only inches away from being a cold shoulder. It's all too clear that she doesn't understand what's going on, and Denji doesn't know how he would explain it if asked. His only solace is the understanding that Power's problems aren't really problems with her, but reactions to the discord playing out around her.

Nayuta is probably the most concerning of the lot of them. Denji is tempted to call her jealous, but he doesn't know if that's the right word for what's going on with her. She's been in a sour mood ever since Aki got home. Truthfully, the frostiness she's been showing Power after trying and failing to spend time with Aki is practically kind compared to some of the looks she's given Denji, to say nothing of the anger that's started to flit across her face when she's around Aki for too long. The sight of it stirs up an apprehension within Denji that makes his stomach churn with guilt. He reminds himself that he shouldn't let himself get too worried yet. It makes sense for her to be upset - she's had a second kid pushed into her space in a short period of time, and Aki hasn't exactly been nice to her either. There's no reason for him to be scared.

This is just the shit that he was scared might happen when he got Power, really. There's no reason for him to freak out now that it's actually happening with Aki. All three of them are going through normal child stuff. It will all blow over eventually.

What he doesn't know is if he has time to wait for eventually.

So Denji needs to figure shit out with Aki and Nayuta and show Kishibe that it's okay for him to walk away. He isn't optimistic enough to think that he'll completely fix it before he has to leave, but he does need to show him that he has some sort of plan at the very least. He needs to show him that he was right to trust him with Aki, that Denji can take care of all of the kids, that he doesn't need to hover or second guess or decide that he can't do this and-

Well, that's a moot point. Even if Kishibe decides to try and take Aki back, Denji'd saw the old man in half before he actually lets that happen. But he'd rather avoid that fight if at all possible. And he will, because he can do this. Everything will be fine. He'll find a way to fix this broken household of theirs.

He just has to figure out how.

Baby steps sound like a good idea to start with. He can't afford to go too slowly, but as long as he doesn't move too fast either, then it goes to reason that he won't be able to fuck anything up too badly. It will also allow the kids to move at something close to their own pace while still keeping them moving forward. It's not a perfect plan, in fact, it's more like a vague notion held together by staples and bubble gum, but it's something, and right now, that something is all that he has to work with.

So he works with it.

After school on a Wednesday afternoon, Denji convinces Kishibe to take the kids to a park with him. All three of them have been cooped up ever since he brought Aki home four days ago, and that can't be good for any of them. He knows for a fact that Power will explode if he doesn't give her a chance to blow off some energy. Besides, kids love parks. If he gets lucky, and he's feeling lucky today, some fresh air and the opportunity to roll around in the grass might make Aki and Nayuta a little less sulky. If he's really lucky, they might put aside their differences and start to bond a bit.

At least, that's what he's hoping.

As he watches Power and Nayuta take turns beating each other into the dirt while Aki sulks off to the side, he gets the sinking sense that he might not get as lucky as he'd hoped.

He also gets the feeling that that guy who'd told him that little boys are always more rambunctious than girls a few years back was a fucking liar, but that's completely unrelated.

Denji is unable to hold back his frown as he looks between the children. Nayuta and Power look like they're having fun, at least. They're rolling around in the wood chips surrounding the swingset, wrestling in a way that's definitely violent, but two steps behind aggressive. Their clothes are getting hopelessly dirty, but that's frankly the least of Denji's priorities. Right now, a laughing Power has Nayuta pinned despite their size difference, and the smile on the Control Devil's face tells him that he doesn't need to worry about anything. It's honestly a big relief considering how she's been acting for the past few days. But…

Aki is skulking around a patch of bushes a few yards away. As he watches, he kicks at them weakly, but there's no energy in the movement, and when Denji catches a glimpse of his face, it's void of any of the curiosity or excitement that he'd expect to see on a kid his age.

Beside him, Kishibe stretches his arms out across the back of the bench and heaves a sigh. "I don't know what you expected," he grumbles.

Me either, Denji bites back.

"I dunno what you're talking about," he says. "It's going great."

Kishibe frowns, his eyes drifting over toward the pint-sized elephant in the room.

Denji waves his hand dismissively. "Since when's he ever been playful?" he asks, casual in a way that feels all too hollow. "He just needs a little encouragement."

With that, Denji stands up and starts toward Aki.

Aki doesn't so much as look up at him. He keeps on scuffing at the edge of one of the bushes with the tip of his shoe, lost in his own little world. 'Cause that has to be it, right? He can't be aware of all the stuff that's going on around him and everything else he could be doing and still be choosing to act like this. That's... maybe Aki's never been the most fun-loving person, but kids don't act like that.

So he has to be lost in his own imagination. Nothing to worry about, just a spacey kid.

"Hey," Denji says, crouching down by Aki.

Aki looks up at him, foot stilling mid-kick. "...Hi," he says.

"Do you wanna go play with them?" Denji asks, jerking his head toward Power and Nayuta. It looks like Nayuta's gotten tired of letting Power beat her around; the two girls now have each other in a headlock and are rolling through the wood chips in a loud, shouting mass of flailing limbs.

Aki looks at him like he's insane.

"...Fair enough," Denji says. "Do you wanna play with me?"

Aki falters. He opens his mouth, closes it, and then finally turns back to the bush with a stiff shake of his head. "No," he murmurs, so quiet that Denji can barely hear him.

That doesn't feel like something that he should just accept. There's a siren going off in the back of his head, telling him that there's something wrong here, that he's an idiot for thinking that he's just looking at a spacey kid, that he needs to do something fast before everything gets worse and something breaks that can't be fixed. But it's next to impossible to fix something when you don't know what the problem is in the first place, and even though he scrambles and scrapes his brain, he can't figure out what he's missing.

Well, no, there's still one big, glaring possibility. He could be overreacting. His earlier guess, that Aki's just a spacey, antisocial kid, could be the right one. Sure, being this quiet and sullen is alarming, but his circumstances are far from normal. Everything is different and the world is only getting stranger for him. That could be mixing with his general killjoy personality and making him act all closed off.

That and any memories that he may or may not have. Denji's thought about that though, and after some consideration, he probably doesn’t need to give it that much weight. Aki would tell him if he remembered anything that was fucking him up really bad.

Wouldn't he?

"You're staring," Aki murmurs, pulling him out of the cloudy, uncertain headspace that he drifted off to.

"Sorry," Denji says. "Come poke me or the old man if you get bored with... whatever you're doing, okay?"

Aki hums.

Denji hesitates, trying and failing to settle the sense of wrongness fluttering in his chest. When Aki wanders away, he comes to the conclusion that he's just going to have to ignore it for the time being and walks back to Kishibe.

He's probably more grateful than he should be that Kishibe doesn't comment on his failure.

"They're getting along better than I expected," he says instead, nodding toward Nayuta and Power. "Naytua's been showing good self-control. She's holding back enough to think Power has the upper hand, but isn't letting her land any blows that would draw blood."

Denji says the first thing that pops into his mind. "Yeah. I'm proud of them."

His second thought is that he really hopes that Nayuta isn't gearing up for a sneak attack.

Denji finds himself watching the girls with renewed scrutiny, waiting for just that. He doesn't expect Power to spontaneously pull away from Nayuta and race over to Aki, but that's what he gets.

As he watches her grab his arm, chattering excitedly, only for Aki to pull his arm back, mutter something unintelligible, and pull away, he finds himself wishing that Nayuta had started playing a little rough instead.

When Power's face falls and Nayuta takes a few tentative steps forward, angry eyes flickering between her and Aki, Denji thinks that they'd definitely all be better off if he'd ended up needing to break up a fight between the girls.

Finally, Power races toward him, Nayuta hot on her heels, and shouts, "What's wrong with Aki!?"

Aki freezes.

And Denji knows that everything's about to go to shit.

He doesn't need to look to know that Kishibe's staring at him. He feels his eyes boring into his back as he stands up and waves his hands. What waving his hands is supposed to accomplish, he doesn't have a single fucking clue, but it feels better than standing there and doing nothing with them. Just like how he can feel that nothing that he says will stop the explosion that's about to happen, but he needs to try something, so he says, "Nothing's wrong with him. He just doesn't feel like playing."

Aki glances at him over his shoulder, expression fraught. Denji pretends that he doesn't see it.

"Nu-uh," Power protests, shaking her head. "He's not supposed to act like this."

Denji crosses his arms with a frown. "How do you know what he's supposed to act like?"

"I just know." Power looks at Aki, expression softening into something that looks an awful lot like concern, only to turn right back into a scowl when she looks back at Denji. "He's broken. Fix him."

"There's nothing to fix," Denji says, hoping that the words don't sound as much of a lie as they taste.

Power runs up and kicks him in the shin.

"Fuck!" Denji cries, reflexively pulling his leg up and rubbing at the sore spot.

"Power!" Nayuta shouts. She runs up to grab Power's shoulder, only for her to immediately pull herself out of her grasp.

"Fix him!" Power shouts.

"You don't kick Denji!" Nayuta exclaims. "Besides..." She shoots a sour look at Aki before bitterly adding, "You should be asking him to get rid of him."

A horrible silence fills the air. Denji's muscles lock up when he should be springing into action, and he is hit by the dreadful certainty that anything and everything that he does from this point will be too little, too late.

And then the park explodes.

"You take that back!" Power screams, turning on Nayuta with fury in her eyes. "He was dead, he could be dead-"

"Maybe it would have been better if he'd stayed dead!" Nayuta shouts back. Her voice is angry, but it's pain that he sees on her face, and Denji knows that he should do something, but he can't move, not even when Power's hands ball up into fists, angry tears start to glimmer in her eyes, and she quivers like she's about to lunge.

"You can't say that!" she yells. "I don't want him dead! I'd rather have him broken than dead! You don't get to say that!"

"Why would you want him?" Nayuta hisses. "We were having fun before he showed up! Don't you want to go back to that!?"

"No!"

There's no mistaking the fresh betrayal that flashes across Nayuta's face, nor the desperation that bleeds into her voice as she demands, "Why not!? He's not- He isn't worth caring about, Power! He's done nothing but cause problems since he got here!"

"You're the one causing problems," a dark voice proclaims. It hits Denji that he should have noticed Aki storming over. More importantly, he realizes that he really, really needs to do something, right fucking now. But he only moves to look at Kishibe, who is staring at the children with a hard, unreadable expression.

Nayuta whirls around to glare at Aki. He meets it head-on, the scopes of his eyes constricting and spinning like a top, and she stomps a foot in fury. "What did I do!?" she demands.

"You're dangerous," Aki growls, attempting to shoulder his way in between Nayuta and Power. He's only half-successful; Nayuta grabs Power's shoulder, rooting her to the spot as her eyes dart between the two of them in anxious indecision. Aki only has to take the sight in for a moment before his expression contorts in further fury. "You're the Control Devil. You're only pretending to be nice, you're gonna hurt them as soon as you get the chance."

Nayuta blinks in short that quickly morphs into rage. "I'm not going to hurt them!" she exclaims. "I love them!"

"You can't love anyone!" Aki spits. "All you do is hurt! It's your nature!"

"My nature!?" Nayuta takes a step forward.

Aki takes a step back.

"Do you have any idea how you smell?" Nayuta demands.

"I smell fine," Aki responds, voice wavering despite its hardness.

Denji feels his blood start to turn to ice.

"Do you think I haven't seen the way you look at them!? Or the thing you do with your eyes!?"

"My..." Aki starts to raise a trembling hand to his face, only to rip it back down with a scowl. "My eyes are normal!" he exclaims.

Kishibe shoots Denji an urgent, cautioning look.

Nayuta points at Aki. "You're a worse devil than I am!"

"Shut up! I'm human!" Aki shouts.

Something inside of Denji fractures.

"Hey!" he snaps, stepping forward to try and intercept the children. "You're both crossing the line right now, so why don't we-"

It’s too little, too late.

"Are you stupid?" Nayuta asks, dropping her arm and pushing past Denji to get closer to Aki. "You are the Gun Devil, aren't you?"

Aki staggers back like he's been punched. His face says that something far, far worse has happened. He looks at Power, who peers at him in blatant confusion spasms across his face, and he looks to Denji, begging for something that he doesn't know how to provide. Instead, his mouth opens and closes uselessly. By the time he starts to string together a response, he's already run out of time. Aki turns around and bolts toward the playset.

"Hold up!" Denji cries, but Aki doesn't so much as look back, let alone stop. With a sound that could be dismay or frustration, Denji moves to run after him, only for the reality of his other commitments to come crashing into him and bring him to a stop before he could move so much as a foot. He looks first at Power and Nayuta, who have started arguing again, then at Kishibe.

He figures that he must look more desperate than he ever has when fighting a devil, because Kishibe gives him a heavy, lingering look, then stands up and gestures in the direction Aki ran off with a slight nod. Denji doesn't wait for long enough to thank him, curse his situation, or try to think of any sort of real solution. The second the old man crouches down to talk to the girls, he takes off after Aki. And man, he wishes he was fighting a devil. At least he'd know what to do then.

It takes about five minutes to find Aki, which is, considering the circumstances, a disturbingly long amount of time. Denji blames it on him being so tiny. However, a few seconds before his heart can tear its way out of his chest, he hears a tiny sniffle coming from inside the hooded slide attached to the playset.

Denji closes his eyes. He feels the overwhelming relief, sinking dread, and terrifying cluelessness twisting around in his gut and turning into something that he thinks might make him vomit. He feels it, and then he takes a deep breath, pushes it down, and walks toward the slide.

Aki isn't actually crying yet. Normally, Denji would call that a good thing. As he crouches down at the bottom of the slide and looks at him, legs pulled up to his chest, arms wrapped around them in a white-knuckled grip, and face half-buried, he finds that he isn't so sure.

"Hey," he calls.

Aki looks up at him, only to look right back down and scoot a few inches up the slide.

Denji's heart lurches in a peculiar way that he didn't know it could until only a few weeks ago. Maybe even less than that.

"Can I come up?" he tries again.

Aki peers back up at him. The disapproving frown that breaks through his melancholy is so familiar and so ridiculous on such a tiny face that he would laugh if the circumstances were different. "You won't fit," he mutters.

"Bet."

Aki lets out a squawk of, "DENJI!" as he clamors into the slide. It's so indignant, so uppity, so alive and not miserable that he can't take it as anything but a sign to continue. He knows that his spine is going to hate him for it later, but he forces himself into that tiny slide, grinning up at Aki as the boy scampers upward with a moody huff.

"See?" he asks, ignoring the way that his spine has decided that it's actually going to give him hell now as he tucks his legs up against his chest and leans against the wall of the slide. "Plenty of room."

"You look stupid," Aki grumbles.

Denji shrugs. "Pick a cooler place to chill out next time."

It's the wrong thing to say. Or maybe there isn't any right thing to say and the momentary distraction caused by him breaking his back has simply run its course. Aki looks down at his feet like he's been seriously scolded, and Denji swears that he catches a glimpse of vivid, crushing, grown-up shame on his face before he hides it in his knees.

"Are you alright?" Denji asks, even though he already knows the answer.

"Yes," Aki says, even though the shaking syllables and trembling of his tiny form say 'no'.

"...Do you want to talk about it?"

"No."

"Okay."

Aki shakes, but doesn’t cry.

Denji doesn’t say anything as he reaches his hand up to Aki.

Aki doesn’t say anything when he grabs onto it and clings with all his might.

*

It takes a solid half an hour for Aki to calm down enough to get out of that damn slide. Denji offers to carry him after, but Aki insists on walking, which he assumes has to be at least a tiny good sign.

Kishibe managed to get the girls settled and more or less getting along again while they were in the slide. How the fuck he managed that, he does not know, but he feels more like he owes the old man his life than ever before, even moreso when the kids stay quiet on the way back to the apartment. That quiet gives him the time and space to think, to come up with the plan that he honestly should have made a long time ago. He’s not sure it’s a good plan, but it means that by the time the kids are eating a tense, sullen dinner and a haggard Kishibe pulls him into the other room, he has something to offer him.

Even if that something amounts to blurting out, “I’m taking Aki to school with me tomorrow.”

Kishibe squints at him like he’s insane. “Is that so?”

“Yeah. You can’t keep babysitting forever, and I can’t leave Aki and Nayuta home alone while they’re fighting, so…” Denji shrugs, like this is a normal, casual, reasonable thing to say and not something that probably violates at least fifty parenting books. “I’ll bring Aki with me tomorrow, and Nayuta the day after that, and just… Keep doing that until they start getting along.”

Kishibe raises an eyebrow. “What if something happens?”

Denji’s stomach sinks, and his voice sinks with it, lowering into something heavy and grave. “I won’t let that happen.”

He’ll die before he lets that happen.

Kishibe looks like he understands. He looks like he believes him. That probably means that he can stop talking, but he goes on anyway, explaining, “No one guessed that Makima was a devil because of her eyes, right? No one’s gonna peg Nayuta, and Aki’ll be fine with long sleeves and some sunglasses.”

“And if they act up?”

“I mean, I don’t want detention, but if it’s between that and something like today happening again, I don’t care if they throw a big-ass shitfit in the middle of class.”

Denji can handle a little public humiliation. He doesn’t think that Aki can handle another day like today. Which… that’s probably something that he should think about more. There’s something there, some big, glaring problem that he’s missing, but he can’t piece it together, and right now, he’s got too much shit going on to run himself ragged trying.

Like Nayuta. He’s going to have to talk to Nayuta about Aki soon. Not tonight, or before school tomorrow, or maybe after school tomorrow depending on how things go, but… soon. Real fucking soon. On Friday, probably. They’ll have plenty of time with him taking her to school with him.

While all of this marinates in his head, Kishibe stares him down, calculating. Or maybe he’s just tired. He definitely sounds tired when he sighs and says, “Call me if you end up with a mess that needs cleaning up.”

Denji flashes him a peace sign and a shaky grin. “No worries. It’ll go off without a hitch.”

Chapter Text

Denji wakes up and feels weird.

There's a bit of excitement to it. He has a plan for how to make things work with Aki and Nayuta - or at least, he's developing one - and he's about to take the first step. They're going to make progress and he'll be damned if he lets anything get in their way.

It coincides with a deep, soul-crushing dread, the tangible fear that something will go wrong and they'll end up even worse off than before.

He chooses to ignore the second thing.

Therefore, Denji is smiling when he gets up that morning. He is bright, cheerful, and not just optimistic, but confident that everything is going to work out. The fact that Nayuta and Power are both still asleep when he gets up is a point in favor of this. It allows him to get everything settled and ready without running into any complications like the day before. When the dogs stir upon Denji extracting himself from the nest he's formed around them, he does worry that they might wake up, but nope. He opens the door and they trail out of the bedroom without any problems.

The first hour of the morning passes more or less on autopilot. Denji feeds all of the animals and takes the dogs outside for a quick walk, internally bemoaning the fact that he had to wake up before dawn this morning. Then he crushes down the whining that threatens to rise up, because waking up early will have been worth it once he pulls this off. Once the dogs have been exercised and done their business, he brings them back inside and takes a shower. Just a shower, not the full, luxurious bath he craves; there's no time for that this morning. After he's done in the shower, he sets about making breakfast. Normally he'd wake the kids up for that, but this morning... He doesn't think that's the best call.

Normally, he'd at least try to get all three kids to eat together.

He throws that idea out the window.

Denji knows that his plan is going to work out, but he isn't a total moron. Not this time, anyway. He knows that problems are going to pop up over the course of the day. He isn't going to let any of them get the best of him, but he knows that they're going to happen.

The first one shows up when he goes to wake Aki up.

Denji would be lying if he said that he feels totally okay with Aki sleeping on his own. That feeling only amplifies when he opens the door to the bedroom that he's claimed as his own. Ever since he got him, he's been letting Aki wake up and come out of his room on his own time. He's never actually seen him sleeping in this life. He's never seen how he looks when he sleeps.

Now, as he watches Aki mutter and twitch, Denji's stomach twists and a cold, mocking voice reaches across his brain to whisper in his ear. He shoves it aside before he can make out what it's saying.

Denji carefully picks his way across the room to the futon. He kneels down beside Aki, one arm outstretched, aware that he's probably gonna have to touch him to wake him up. For reasons unknown to him, he hesitates before his fingers make contact.

Why? Because he doesn't want to startle him? That's stupid, it's better to scare him for a moment than leave him to thrash in his sleep. Because he looks so small and vulnerable? That's even more stupid, he may be a kid, but he isn't going to shatter that easily.

With a scoff to shove his apprehension aside, Denji gently shakes Aki's shoulder with a murmured, "Hey."

Aki jerks awake with a gasp, eyes spinning at the speed of light as they focus uncomprehendingly on Denji.

Denji knows that he hasn't done anything wrong, but he still has to fight back a grimace as he drops his hand back down to his side.

"Were you having a nightmare?" he asks after a moment of quiet.

Aki looks away as he sits up. "No," he murmurs, so softly that Denji almost doesn't hear him.

He immediately files it away as another little unconvincing lie that he's going to let him get away with because he doesn't know what else to do. Right then, he doesn't know what to say at all. His delay lasts long enough for Aki to pull himself together enough to look back at him and ask, "Why did you wake me up?"

Denji manages a smile. It doesn't feel real, but it isn't shaking either, so he's going to go ahead and count it as a win. "Am I supposed to just let you sleep all day?" he asks.

Aki's brow furrows. He looks out the window, where the sun can just be seen peeking over the horizon, then whips his head back around to shoot Denji an incredulous glower. "The sun isn't up yet!" he argues. "And you're the lazy one! You-"

Aki's eyes widen a second before he cuts himself off. He looks down at his lip, knuckles turning white as his grip on his blanket tightens.

It's a sight that makes Denji feel pretty shitty even though he doesn't know where he went wrong. "Aki?" Unthinkingly, he reaches out toward his shoulder.

The kid flinches away before he can make contact.

Denji doesn’t pay any mind to the way his chest constricts as he drops his hand back into his lap.

"It's nothing," Aki murmurs. Then, looking back at him, "Why did you wake me up?"

The unsteady-but-not-shakey grin slides back into place. "'Cause we've gotta get ready early! You’re going to school with me!"

The spinning of Aki's pupils comes to a halt as his eyes widen. "School?" he echoes.

"Yeah!" Denji cheerfully exclaims. "Kishibe can't keep watching you guys forever, so until things cool down between you and Nayuta, you're both gonna take turns coming with me! You’ll get to see what I do during the day, like a field trip! Whaddya think?"

It's hard to gauge what's going on in Aki's head as he stares at him. Denji's pretty sure that there's hope and excitement, but something small and nervous follows. Disbelief is there too, in the slight twist of his mouth that suggests that Denji's gone and grown a second head.

The small nervous thing wins. Aki looks down again and softly asks, "Can I go to school?"

Denji hopes whatever is seizing his lungs isn’t visible beyond his chest. "Yeah! Of course! I mean-" He catches himself just in time to keep from saying that Aki will have to wear sunglasses and makeup. It's true, but something about yesterday's breakdown tells him that Aki wouldn't like to talk about it. "-Why couldn't you?"

Aki shrugs, the sort of gesture that very visibly doesn't mean shit.

"Aki," Denji presses, only to wonder if maybe he shouldn't press a second later.

Any relief that he may have felt when Aki responds is stifled by what he actually says.

"Am I normal enough to go to school?" Aki asks, glancing up at Denji for about half a second before looking away again.

Denji doesn't have time to do anything about the way his heart sinks. He can't afford to do anything but stretch his smile wider, one of the most bright, earnest expressions he's ever worn while lying through his teeth, and say, "Of course you are."

He should probably feel bad about telling the kid such a blatant lie. Aki probably would have felt rancid if their roles were reversed. Yet Denji doesn't feel guilty at all. How can he, when he's absolutely certain that telling the truth would break Aki in a way that he won't be able to repair in time? Sure, the lie might come back to haunt him eventually. They might need to actually have an honest talk about this someday. But it won't be today, and it won't be tomorrow. If Denji has anything to do with it, it won't be until Aki's ready.

And if he's never ready, Denji will just... find a way to let him live his life. Which will definitely be easier said than done, but he'll do it.

"Are you sure?" Aki asks, looking up at him tentatively. Denji knows that he should be worried about him already poking holes in his lies, but mostly, he's just relieved that Aki isn’t breaking eye contact this time.

"Duh!" Denji exclaims. He rolls his eyes dramatically and lets out a dismissive huff before adding, "They let me in, don't they? You'll be fine."

Aki hesitates. Denji swallows the lump in his throat and adds, softer than he intended to, “You’re normal, alright? You’ve just been through a lot.”

"...I am better behaved than you," Aki finally murmurs, and Denji's too happy about having an opportunity to end this conversation to be offended.

"There we go!" Denji exclaims. "Now get up, I wanna get you fed and ready before I get the girls up."

*

Aki gets up. Denji gets him fed and - mostly - ready before getting the girls up.

Power's sulky about not getting to have breakfast with Aki, but Nayuta is pleased. She's less pleased when she finds out that Aki is going to school with Denji while she stays at home with Power, but both girls accept the plan for the day without freaking out or throwing any tantrums. They even promise to be on their best behavior while he's away, which he knows doesn't guarantee anything, but helps him feel a little better regardless.

He wrangles Aki into the bathroom, trying not to seem like it’s his first time applying concealer while the girls finish their breakfast.

Actually, 'wrangle' is probably the wrong word for it. Aki lets him smear goop across his face and fuck around trying to find the right pair of sunglasses without complaint. He goes quiet in a really sad, sulky way, but this is something that Denji really can't do anything about, so he ignores it and prays to god that Aki will forget about it too before very long.

By the time Denji needs to leave for school, everything's set and ready to go.

So far, so good.

*

It's inevitable that people are going to ask questions. Fortunately, Denji has a game plan for how to handle all of the most obvious ones.

Aki is his little brother. He's bringing him to school with him because he didn't have anyone to watch him and couldn't leave him at home because of circumstances that are no one's business but his own. The glasses are because he's visually impaired. He isn't bumping into anything because he's very good at working around it, and by the way, who the fuck are you to question a half-blind child? Asshole. Buzz off and mind your own business before you scar him for life.

It works well enough for the first hour of the day. Denji gets a shitload of odd looks, but most people don't bother asking why he's got a kid with him. Most of the people who do ask give up a question or two into his script. The one time a classmate makes him relay the full thing, he's pretty sure that he sees Aki fighting back giggles when he tells them to buzz off, which has gotta be a good sign.

The first class itself is easy. Sorta. The content is hard - whoever decided that he needs to take math first thing in the morning is a sadist - but the Aki situation is easy. His teacher accepts his presence when Denji explains that he didn't really have any other options (true, even if he's also sorta lying). He arranges for Aki to sit in a spare desk, allowing Denji to switch seats with a classmate for the day to sit next to him. Aki tries to focus for about ten minutes before drifting off to sleep, but gets up without complaint when it's time to move to the next class.

It's when they're walking through the hall between the first and second periods that the second problem pops up.

Denji isn't paying that much attention to his surroundings today. Sure, he looks around to make sure that he doesn't directly walk into anyone, but he looks back at Aki every few seconds to make sure that he isn't tiring out or wandering off. Thus, it isn't too much of a surprise when his shoulder slams into someone at the foot of the stairwell.

"Shit!" Denji curses, adjusting his backpack to rub his shoulder and taking a step back. "Sorry about that."

"It's no problem," Yoshida says.

Denji doesn't know the guy very well, but he knows enough to know that he sounds distracted. That's his first warning sign. The second comes when he follows his classmate's eyes to find him staring at Aki. Denji's stomach gives a sickening jolt as he attempts to subtly slide over to block Yoshida's view of the kid.

It's too little, too late. "You brought Hayakawa with you?" Yoshida asks in bemusement.

Aki takes a sharp breath. Denji only looks away from Yoshida for a second, but that's long enough to see him scramble over to fully hide behind his legs. He feels the tug of tiny hands grasping onto pants, and those fingers might as well be digging into his heart for how it makes him feel.

Denji didn’t account for this. He never considered the possibility of Aki being recognized. His head is buzzing and an awful mixture of anger and worry makes his voice go cold when he asks, "How much do you know?"

"Just the basics," Yoshida says with a shrug, as if he hasn't set Denji on edge in a way that he doesn't know how to describe. A subdued emotion that he thinks may be amusement flickers across his face for a second before turning into an expression that he suspects is supposed to be reassuring. "You don't have anything to worry about. I think this is a good thing."

"Gee, thanks," Denji mutters, in the dull, unaffected tone of someone who doesn't know what to think. His body, meanwhile, thrums like a live wire, renewed energy making his palms sweat. He reaches an arm out behind him and feels a small hand release his pants to latch onto his own immediately.

Aki's grip is so tight it almost hurts.

"I'm not sure it's a good idea to bring him to school, though," Yoshida adds.

Denji purses his lips. "Yeah, well..."

He isn't going to tell him that he didn't have anyone to watch the kids. If he does that, Yoshida might offer to watch them himself, but Denji is not about to give this guy an inch. Worse, he might ask why he can't leave them alone. Public Safety or whoever the fuck he works for knowing that Aki exists is bad enough, he is not going to let them find out that the kids are having problems.

Fuck. He's going to have to talk to Kishibe about this when he gets home, isn't he?

"...Shit happened. It's none of your business," Denji finishes.

Yoshida looks like he's going to say something else. Denji doesn't give him the chance. He turns around to face Aki, scooping down to pick him up, only for Aki to scramble back with a hissed, "I can walk."

Denji raises an eyebrow. "You sure?"

Aki stares at Denji, then looks over his shoulder and a little to the side. Denji follows his gaze to find Yoshida openly staring at them. Right when the guy raises his hand to wave, Aki grabs Denji's hand and starts stomping toward the stairwell. Denji blinks, but allows himself to be dragged up the stairs, his back protesting every inch of the way.

"I guess I'll see you later then," he hears Yoshida murmur as they walk away.

Aki lets go of his hand when they reach the top of the stairs. Any hope that they’ll head straight to the next class is off the table. The kid's gone stiff at a statue, staring down at his feet as his hands shake at his side.

Well, fuck it. Denji's already going to be late for second period anyway.

Denji gently sets his hand on Aki's shoulder and steers him toward a window at the edge of the hallway. He goes without complaint, and once there's a good distance between themselves and the other hallway stragglers, he crouches down. "Hey, what-"

"Did he see my eyes?" Aki blurts out.

Denji blinks. "Huh?"

He can't see Aki's eyes behind those glasses, but it doesn't matter. The shaking of his shoulders and the desperation in his voice paint a clear enough picture. "My eyes. He didn't- He doesn't know what I am now, right?"

"Aki..." He already knows. "No. He didn't see a thing."

Aki's relief is tangible. He stands a little taller, letting go of his long sleeve as he tilts his head up. Sunlight from the window next to them is just bright enough to penetrate through his sunglasses. The icy crosshairs of his eyes swirl and ease the worry off his round face. "Okay," he sighs. "Let's go to the next class."

Denji frowns. "Are you su-"

"Yeah," Aki interrupts. "I don't wanna be late."

*

They're late to second period.

There are some unexpected benefits to having Aki with him though. Since there's a kid watching, his teacher only chews him out a little bit.

The class itself goes out without a hitch. Sort of. Denji can’t exactly say that he’s on top of his game. Enough of his attention is focused on Aki that the lesson itself turns into droning background noise. Unlike him, Aki is trying his best to listen to the teacher, brow furrowed in concentration even though he doesn’t have a chance in hell of understanding what she’s talking about. Denji would laugh if it wouldn’t all but guarantee that she’ll catch him zoned out. As it is, he thinks that he’s doing a pretty good job of pretending to pay attention, at least.

He thinks he is.

That illusion comes crashing down during his next class, when Aki leans over to elbow him sharply in the ribs.

Denji barely managed to hold back a groan as he leans away in a belated attempt to avoid the kid’s boney elbow. “What was that for?” he hisses.

Aki points toward the front with a whisper of, “Pay attention,” grave, urgent, commanding, and sounding very much like - well, himself.

His old self, the one that was a grown adult and looked after Denji.

But the Aki before him now is a little kid, and as Denji takes in that serious look at his face, he doesn’t know if he wants to laugh or cry.

He does neither, turning back toward the front of the room with a whispered, “Sorry.”

Denji doesn’t actually pay any more attention to class after that. But he tricks Aki into thinking he is, and that’s good enough.

*

Lunchtime brings with it a new set of challenges. Denji wishes he could call them 'fun and exciting', but no. This shit is mundane and stressful.

It's pretty much immediately clear that eating in the dining hall is not going to work out for Aki. He keeps fidgeting, anxiously looking at and away from pretty much everyone they walk past, and can't seem to decide whether he wants to hide behind Denji or not. For his part, Denji spends about three minutes waiting for Aki to tell him what the problem is, only to realize that that isn't going to happen. Even when he tries to ask him what's wrong, Aki rebuffs him with a muttered, "It's fine."

Which is…

Fine.

Sorta.

This situation isn't fine. Aki's clearly bothered by being in the crowded hall, and that isn't okay. But he can do fuck all if Aki doesn’t tell him exactly what's wrong. It could be any number of things; the level of noise, the sheer amount of people around them, or the fact that many of those people are blatantly staring at Aki in curious confusion. In the end, it doesn't matter why Aki's upset. Denji's solution would be the same regardless of the reason. He needs to grab their lunch, get the fuck out of the dining hall, and find somewhere else for them to eat.

Well, Aki's lunch. His dining plan only covers one meal and he's still sorta used to skipping meals, so that's that.

Aki lets out a sigh of relief when they walk out of the dining hall. Denji considers saying something about it, but quickly dismisses it as something that will probably make him get all uppity. Instead, he waits for him to stop trembling to adjust his grip on the lunch tray and, once he's sure that he'll be able to hold it with one hand, reach his other hand out to Aki.

He's met with a stubborn scowl. "I can keep up by myself," Aki says.

Denji raises an eyebrow. "All the way to the roof?"

'Cause there are plenty of other places they could go for lunch, but he's getting the impression Aki needs time away from everything for a little while. The roof is one of the best options for that. Cramming themselves into a bathroom stall is also an option, but older Aki would have been disgusted and pissy with him for even suggesting it, and he's willing to bet that little Aki would do the same.

Of course, older Aki would have stood his ground and insisted on walking on his own. He wouldn't have had to offer with older Aki.

Denji doesn't let himself pay attention to the way his heart twists when the Aki in front of him hesitantly glances away before wordlessly taking his hand.

The walk up to the roof goes well, at least. They get a few odd looks, but it’s not like they haven't been dealing with it all day. Now that he isn't having to deal with a shitload of them at once, they don't seem to bother Aki as much. No one stops them or asks where they're going. Denji has to walk pretty slowly, but Aki moves fast enough that he doesn't have to walk at a total snail's pace.

Better yet, Aki's started to perk up a bit by the time they start up the staircase. He doesn't even seem upset when they step out on the rooftop to find that they aren't alone.

Denji, on the other hand-

"Fuuuuuck," he whispers, unable to describe the emotion that swirls in his gut as he takes in the sight of Asa Mitaka sitting at the edge of the roof, staring listlessly out at the city below. It's honestly easier to call it indigestion than an actual emotion, except instead of being centered in his stomach, it seizes his entire body and makes him want to melt into a giant puddle on the ground.

Aki tightens his grip on his hand. "You aren't supposed to swear," he hisses.

"You aren't supposed to swear," Denji says, looking back at the stairwell and wondering if it's too late to convince Aki to have lunch in the bathroom. Older Aki would have been appalled, but he's a kid now. Maybe kid Aki is about fifty times less hygienic. That would probably make life a lot easier for him, honestly.

"I can swear if I want to," Aki huffs. "You're the one who's-"

Denji pauses, Aki's bold claim momentarily stopping the fight or flight instinct from seizing control of his body, and looks down at him expectantly. He's met with the sight of a face scrunched up in fraught confusion.

Probably because he just said something that makes no goddamn sense.

"Yeah, no. It's the kid who isn't supposed to swear. I'm seventeen, I've got rights."

Aki snaps his head up to scowl at him. "That's not-"

"Why do you have a child with you?"

Fuck.

Denji plasters a grin on his face as he looks at Asa. It's small and unconvincing, but it's better than nothing considering how Asa looks right now. She's staring down at Aki, bewilderment and concern blanketing her expression. It’s not enough to cover the exhaustion on her features. Under different circumstances, he might entertain the idea of asking her if something is up– or maybe she always looks this way. Which, Denji's pretty sure that he looks exhausted too, but that just means that neither of them have any room to judge each other. It evens out.

Too bad it doesn't help him figure out how to explain Aki. Too bad it doesn't tell him why he has to explain Aki to Asa. He has his script, there's absolutely no reason why he can't just tell her the same thing he's told everyone else. However, when Asa levels her suspicious gaze on him, all of his practiced words flee his mind, and he finds himself scrambling for something to say.

The result is Denji blurting out, "I couldn't just leave him at home!"

"You mean he's yours!?" Asa exclaims, shocked, possibly aghast, and worst of all, rude.

"Did you think I'd kidnapped him!?" Denji sputters.

"I didn't think you had a child! You're seventeen, aren't you?"

"I am, and I don't have a child!" Denji declares, briefly capturing the uneasy way Aki looks up at him.

"You... don't?" Asa asks, staring skeptically at Aki.

"Nope! I've got three!"

Asa whips around to stare at him in what can only be described as horror. Again, rude.

"Do you have any... parents...?" she asks in the distant, shell-shocked voice of someone who already knows the answer.

It takes a good deal of willpower for Denji to refrain from rolling his eyes. He doesn't bother trying to keep himself from scoffing. "Of course not. It's just me."

"Oh..." Asa murmurs. It's the kind of 'oh' that makes Denji groan and looks for ways to escape the conversation, the sort of 'oh' that means that more questions are on the way. Sure, it's not the end of the world; he's remembering his script now, and it's not like he didn't know that he'd be dealing with shit like this all day long. The thought of having to deal with more questions right now, when they came up to the roof for a break, still makes him feel exhausted.

But the barrage of questions never comes. Asa stares at Denji and Aki for a moment longer, then looks down at the tray of food sitting by her feet, expression unreadable.

Denji briefly considers asking her what's up. One glance at the visibly anxious child peering up at him is enough to make him decide that it doesn't really matter. "Come on," he says, tugging on Aki's hand to lead him out onto the roof.

He hesitates for a moment, but obediently follows along after him. Denji decides that he's going to believe that's a good thing.

It would probably be weird and jerkish of him to try to sit as far away from Asa as possible, so he settles for a few feet off to the side. He sets the tray down on the ground and pats the spot next to him. Once again, Aki hesitates, but settles down after a few seconds, sitting cross-legged and staring down at where his hands lay in his lap.

"Eat up," Denji says, pushing the tray toward him.

Aki looks up at him in befuddlement. "But that's your food," he protests.

Denji shakes his head. "Nah, I got it for you. 'Sides, I'm not hungry."

"But you need to eat!" Aki insists, voice growing high and urgent.

"I really don't," Denji retorts, trying to keep his voice hard in a soft, non-scary way and barely managing to avoid letting his confusion show. "I ain't hungry, and you're still growing."

"You need to eat!" Aki repeats. "You're-" He cuts himself off abruptly. Denji wonders what he was going to say. He wonders if Aki knows what he was going to say. Even if he doesn't, he glares at Denji with all his might. Denji glares back before it can occur to him that maybe he shouldn't do that with this tiny version of Aki. However, when he tries to force the expression down, Aki flashes an expression of triumph and shoves the tray back toward him.

"Hey, no!" Denji exclaims. "You-"

"Here."

A second, half-full tray is set down beside Aki. Denji looks up to see Asa holding onto her arm and staring awkwardly off into the distance. He stares for a few seconds, which is long enough for her to surreptitiously glance at them and immediately look away. Denji looks at Aki, who's looking between him and Asa in bewilderment, before looking back at his classmate.

His classmate who hates Chainsaw Man.

His classmate who asked him out when he thought she hated him, too.

His classmate who probably does hate him after he rejected her.

That isn't the sort of person he wants to be in debt to.

Denji shakes his head. "Thanks, but you don't have to-"

"I have a small stomach. I'm not hungry anymore," Asa interrupts.

"...Are you sure?" Aki quietly asks, looking between Asa and the half-full tray. The sunglasses aren't enough to mask the indecision in his expression.

Asa looks at Aki, expression softening for half a second before hardening back up. "It will just go to waste if you don't eat it."

Aki hesitates for half a second longer before pulling the tray toward him with a tiny nod. And Denji... Denji can't really argue with that.

Asa waits until Aki takes a tentative bite of the remaining meal, then turns around to walk away.

Something in Denji's chest squirms oddly. "Hey!" he calls.

Asa freezes.

"Wanna sit with us for the rest of the period?" Denji asks.

Three seconds pass. Five. Ten. He's starting to wonder if he's insulted her somehow when Asa walks back over and sits down about a foot away from him and Aki. She shoots Denji a long, indecipherable look before turning away from him completely. "What's your name?" she asks Aki.

Aki stops mid-chew and looks at Denji.

Denji nods encouragingly.

Aki swallows and murmurs, "Aki."

Asa nods. "What sort of things do you like to do, Aki?"

Aki shrugs. "I dunno."

It's an avoidant non-answer from a kid who's apparently forgotten how to speak like a normal person.

Asa nods like it's the most sensible thing in the world.

"I understand," she says. "It's hard to get invested in anything these days. You can take up a hobby to pass the time, but in the end, it all feels like empty, wasted effort."

Aki and Denji exchange a befuddled look. After a few seconds, Aki leans in to loudly whisper, "Denji."

"Yeah?" Denji asks, glancing at Asa, who can all too clearly hear what's being said.

"This girl is weird."

Denji grins. He knows that he shouldn't do it, especially when she successfully fed Aki, but he finds himself "whispering" back, "I know."

Asa's lips press into a thin line. "Your brother lets people pay to use him as a chair," she intones.

Denji jerks upright with a squawk while Aki excitedly exclaims, "He does!?"

What follows is one of the most humiliating conversations of Denji's life.

At least Aki looks like he has fun.

At one point, he thinks he almost sees him smile.

*

Denji doesn't expect anything more to come from their argument about cursing. After the initial confusion and indignation, he forgets about it outright.

That's before Aki stubs his toe on the corner of a desk and shouts, "Motherfucker!"

It's a loud and frankly impressive curse coming from a kid that tiny. But because they're surrounded by blowhards, the dozen or so looks suddenly shot Denji's way are less than impressed.

"Hey," Denji hisses, crouching down next to Aki. "What did we say up on the roof?"

Aki, leaning heavily against a desk with one foot held up, looks up at Denji. "That I can swear as much as I want," he says.

"No."

"Yes."

Denji takes in a deep breath. "How 'bout this," he tries again. "I won't swear if you don't either."

"But that's not fair," Aki protests.

"Neither is you making us look like hooligans."

Aki's eyes widen. He takes in the looks still being sent their way, the teacher's disapproving glower, and looks back at Denji with shame on his features. "But it hurt," he mumbles.

Shit. Right. "Are you okay?" Denji asks.

"Of course," Aki huffs. "It just hurt."

"Well, if you don't swear when you get hurt, I won't swear when I get pissed off."

"But it hurts!"

A compelling argument, honestly.

"Alright, how 'bout this," Denji tries again. "You can swear as much as you want when we're at home, just don't do it in public."

"But then Power will start swearing too!" Aki protests.

"Well shi- man, Aki, I don't know wha-"

"Mister Hayakawa, if you don't mind, I have a lesson to begin," his teacher's voice cuts in.

Denji winces. "Right, sorry."

As he sits down, he whispers to Aki, "Guess you'll just need to set a good example then."

Aki clambers into his seat and sits back with a huff. Denji allows himself to take it as some sort of victory.

*

It's the second to last class of the day when things start to unravel. Aki has been very well-behaved throughout the day - unsurprisingly, considering that it's Aki. This makes it all the more apparent when he starts fidgeting and mumbling to himself, brow creased in frustrated concentration. He doesn't even notice Denji staring at him instead of paying attention to the lesson. He doesn't notice Asa worriedly eyeing him from a few seats away, or the look the two of them share before Denji turns his attention back to Aki.

"Hey, you okay?" Denji whispers, leaning as close to him as he can without toppling out of his chair.

"I'm fine," Aki dully whispers.

Denji frowns. "Yeah, nah, you aren't. What is it?"

"I'm fine," Aki ferociously insists, barely managing to keep his voice from projecting across the entire room. He looks at Denji, who is staring at him, flat and unconvinced, and looks down at the desk with a hiss. "I'm supposed to know this," he mutters.

Denji looks at the chemistry lesson being written out on the whiteboard, symbols that he barely understands, let alone a little kid, and then back at Aki. His chest aches, and for the sake of making it through the day without any sort of crisis, he refuses to acknowledge the thought that's building in the back of his mind.

"...Wanna ditch?" he asks.

Aki shoots him an alarmed look. "We can't do that!" he hisses.

"Why not?" Denji asks, having to remind himself to keep his voice low. "All I've got after this is a study hall. If you need to go home, we can."

Aki looks down. "I don't need to," he mutters.

"Do you want to?" Denji tries.

Aki gives a hesitant nod.

"Okay."

Denji steps out of his chair and walks out of the room without another word, a jittery Aki following after him. The teacher glances at him, but nods and lets him go without a word, immediately propelling her up to the top of his list of favorite teachers.

All of the tension seems to wind out of Aki's body when they walk out of the school. He sighs, shoulders slumping, and raises a hand to rub at his eyes.

Denji sees it and wonders if he's fucked up somewhere.

"..Hey," he asks. "This wasn't too much for you, was it?"

Aki drops his hand and looks up at him like he's insane for even suggesting it. "No. It was interesting."

"Not fun?" Denji asks.

Aki shrugs.

Denji's stomach twists. He forces it to stop by asking, "Wanna go get udon?"

Aki's expression brightens, then falters. "What about Power?"

"I'll just give her something with meat for dinner and she'll be fine. Come on."

Aki insists on walking to the restaurant even though Denji's pretty sure that he has to be getting tired by this point. But he manages to keep up pretty well, so it's probably fine.

As they sit down to eat, Denji allows himself to relax.

They made it through the day. Everything's going to be fine.

Chapter Text

Denji calls Kishibe as soon as the kids are settled for the night. He tells him not to worry about Yoshida, that he isn't going to cause him any problems or endanger the kids, and if he does, he has his full permission to chainsaw him.

It reassures Denji to some degree, just not enough for him to sleep. That is how he finds himself laying on the giant squid wedged between Power and Nayuta's futons, wide awake and nowhere near falling asleep. The sky outside is still dark, but the alarm clock on the nightstand reads 3:46 A.M. By this point, he suspects that he's still going to be awake when the sun rises.

Then he hears the quiet noise of the television drifting down from the living room, and he knows that he isn't going to be getting any sleep tonight.

Getting out of the bedroom without making any noise is a difficult process. Yeah, Power and Nayuta are deep enough sleepers that they probably wouldn't wake up even if he was screaming at the top of his lungs, but there's a churning in his stomach that tells him not to risk it.

Denji would feel some degree of relief upon reaching the door without making a sound if not for the fact that his nerves are totally fried. Which is completely ridiculous; he would have heard something sooner if someone broke in, so all that the television being on means is that Aki is awake. Aki isn't supposed to be awake, but it's not the end of the world. All that he has to do is get him in bed and then go back to laying on the squid and staring at the ceiling.

He feels like he's going to vomit. There's no reason for him to feel like he's going to vomit, but he does and it's really, really hard to ignore. Denji doesn't get much choice in the matter though. He needs Aki to take him seriously, and he probably won't take him very seriously if he looks queasy as shit.

These are the thoughts swirling around his mind as he walks down the hall. They all feel pretty damn important at the time. However, when he reaches the living room, it hits him how utterly meaningless all of that shit is.

Aki doesn't notice Denji's entrance. Leaning far too close towards the television, Aki sits there with his arms snaked around his knees, engulfed by the comforter from his futon. His gaze is transfixed on the broadcast, where a scene of bloodshed plays out. The fuzziness of the screen does little to lessen the vibrance of the horrors on display. It does nothing to dull the screams of the victims and laughter of the devil that blares and crackles from the speakers. Denji's throat has gone dry by the time the program transitions to a survivor's testimony. She talks about the terror of facing the devil, the palpable evil it radiated, the scars that she'll carry for the rest of her life, and Aki-

Aki clings to every word.

He does not move.

He does not make any sound.

He is completely fixated on the screen until Denji finally crosses that invisible threshold.

The floor creaks as he takes his first step.

Aki's head snaps around at the sound, finally allowing Denji to see the shaken look on his face and the moisture built up in his red-rimmed eyes. He raises a hand to frantically wipe at them, and Denji feels something jagged lodge itself inside his throat. Aki looks one step away from breaking apart, exhaustion settled on a face far too young. He looked like how he had after their trip to Hell, if not worse.

Denji doesn't know what to say. He needs to say something and it needs to be good, but before he can do that, he needs to figure out what's going on. Or rather, he needs to bring himself to acknowledge what's going on. Because he thinks he might understand. He doesn’t know where to begin– that understanding exists as scattered, painful fragments that have been digging into his insides and slowly forcing their way out the more time passes. Even if he somehow conjures up some kid-friendly horse shit duologue, this is something that will become undeniable once it's been acknowledged. And Denji doesn't know how to deal with that. He is absolutely out of his depth. He needs…

He needs Aki. Aki would know how to deal with this. He'd say or do something to make this better. Sure, he might cry about it later, but he'd hold it in until he didn't think Denji could hear him. It wasn’t easy for him, but he always pushed through and held them all together. Aki would know how to comfort a hurt kid who's dealing with a crisis that no one's ever had to deal with before.

But Denji has Aki. Aki is the hurting kid, he's the one who needs him right now, and Denji can't turn to him right now, no matter how much a deep, instinctual part of him still wants to. He can’t really turn to him ever again.

He wishes that he could. At that moment, Denji would give just about anything to switch their positions. Aki would be able to take care of them all better than he could anyway. He feels no less clueless and small, a little kid sleeping in a shed paying off a debt he doesn’t quite understand.

The air is heavy as Denji runs through his feelings, for once unable to bring himself to shove the building crisis aside for the first time in a long while. It is silent aside from the voice of a Public Safety member talking about why it is vital that all devils be exterminated. Their little stalemate is almost broken when Aki moves like he's going to look away. Half a second before he can, Denji pulls his shit together and asks, "Can't sleep?"

Aki shakes his head.

"Me neither." Denji carefully sits down next to him, unwittingly mirroring the pose he had earlier. He finds himself wondering, not for the first time, if he made a mistake by bringing him to school. That is one train of thought that he can and does cast aside. Even if he did fuck up today, it's too late to do anything about it. All that he can do is glance at the television, the morose voice of a Public safety agent relaying a tale of a fallen comrade drifting around the room. He gives up on constructing a meaningful debut to the clusterfuck unfolding in his living room. It’s way too late to act like he knows what he’s doing. Still, he hopes that he sounds at least mostly casual when he looks back at Aki and asks, "What are you watching?"

"A documentary," Aki murmurs.

"Documentaries are boring." Denji grabs the remote off the coffee table behind Aki and changes the channel as fast as he can. He presses the button about three times before turning the television off with a declaration of, "You should at least try to sleep, anyway. Staying up too late will stunt your growth or some shit."

Aki doesn't respond. When Denji looks, he's staring down at his lap, hands fisted tightly against the soft fabric of his pajama pants. What he can see of his face is white as a ghost.

"...Aki?" Denji calls.

"They talked about the Gun Devil," Aki whispers.

"...Oh," Denji says, even though what he means is 'I'm going to break the fucking television'. He swallows, plasters a smile on his face, and says, "You don't have to think about that. It sucks what happened, but none of that shi- stuff was your fault."

Aki sniffles and shakes his head. He doesn't look up. If anything, he looks like he's going to bolt.

"It's not your fault," Denji repeats. "That was the old Gun Devil. It wasn't-"

"I'm him," Aki whispers.

Denji blinks. His thoughts all fizzle into nothing as a freezing cold writhes within and a chill he’s never known squeezes the air from his lungs. And he knows that he should probably stop ignoring things right about now, but damn it all, he ignores it, because he doesn't know how he's going to push through this if it isn't.

"No, you aren't," he says, like it's the most obvious thing in the world. Because it is. It is. It is. It has to be. "You're Aki. The Gun Devil that did all that wasn't Aki. So you-"

A sob tears free from the child's chest. "I'm not Aki."

Frigid anxiety erupts into white hot fear. It grows into a tearing in his insides, a burning in his eyes, the knowledge that he would scream if he weren't frozen in place. He wouldn't even be saying anything, just a wordless wail as he confronts the thing that he desperately needs not to be true. The thing that can't be true, the thing that has to be a fear from the imagination of a child who clearly has a lot more issues than he realized.

And while Denji's struggling not to fall apart, the kid who says he's not Aki continues, "I can't be Aki 'cause I-”

The skin on one of his arms begins to harden, turning a shade of metallic gray that’s close to black. His arm and hand warp, shifting into something that you would never find on a human being.

“He- it's here too. I re- I remember doing that stuff she said. I killed so many people.”

Metal spreads out to cover the top half of his face, blocking his eyes– swallowing up the little boy before him. As Denji watches in mounting, sickening horror, a rifle blooms out of the child’s face.

“I k-" Another sob tears free. A miniature version of the fiend that Denji killed doubles over and wails, "I killed my family!"

Denji’s eyes are burning like they’re on fire. He doesn’t care. Horrible images flash through the back of his mind; concrete dust caking his skin, the howl of the apartment complex collapsing, Aki’s smile. He doesn’t care about that either. He doesn’t care that the kid in front of him might not actually be Aki or that he could probably do him a lot of damage if he wanted to. The boy he's been taking care of for the past week finally shatters, and Denji pulls him into his arms without a second thought.

The kid sobs, sucking air in breaths that are far too shallow to quell the all-consuming panic. Denji feels the odd press of the kid attempting to bury his face in his shoulder and being blocked by his rife, the way his human arm desperately clings to the back of his shirt, the violent trembles wracking through the M-4 that now constitutes his other arm, and struggles not to join him.

I’m sorry, Denji thinks. He doesn’t know who he’s apologizing to - the Aki that used to be, the fiend he murdered, or the child in his arms - but it doesn’t stop him. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I love you. I’m sorry.

He doesn’t say any of it out loud. The child doesn’t give voice to any of the horrible thoughts that must be coursing through his head. For a long while, they cling to each other and cry, neither of them saying a word. It isn’t until the kid pulls back, gasps, and struggles to speak that Denji realizes that despite his best attempts, they’re both crying. It’s too late by that point, anyway. It’s too late and it doesn’t really matter, not when the kid is saying, "You should hate me. You should kill me. Y-you-"

"No. No fucking way," Denji croaks. He blinks, sending tears rolling down his cheeks, takes in a deep, unsteady breath, he slowly lets go of the child. It’s a slow, uncertain gesture that makes Denji feel like a tool as the kid scoots away, wraps his single human arm around his legs, and starts shaking even harder.

Tears are running down his face despite the lack of visible eyes, bleeding out from the edges of his rifle.

Denji sets his hand on the kid’s shoulder - the shoulder connected to the M-4 - the thing that he needs to be alright with even if he looks at it and feels bullets tearing through his flesh and remembers bloodshed and heartache and you killed-

It doesn’t matter right now.

“Don’t you ever say that. Don’t you ever ask me to do that.” He tries, he tries so hard to remain firm, even if it comes out hoarser than he wants. What he said throws Denji into a new whirlwind. Anger, betrayal, grief; he has to remind himself that he didn’t ask to come back. Not like this.

“But–”

"Listen to me. That’s not an option. I need you to focus and hear what I gotta say. It's gonna be alright," he says, even though it's definitely not alright. He doesn’t really expect the kid to believe that it’s alright. They're nothing but pointless words meant to buy him a little more time. Because he doesn't know what to do, and Aki isn't- Aki- Aki can't help him right now.

So Denji will just have to try to be Aki.

Aki, the older Aki when he was at his very best, would try to figure out what was going on before anything else. Which means trying to figure out who this kid is and - dealing with it. Not dwelling on how much he acted like him and letting himself get his hopes too high. Not letting himself break down if the answer isn't what he wants.

Not hurting the kid over something he can't control.

Which means starting simple - or as simple as he can in this case.

"Why do you think you killed your family?" he asks.

"Because I– remember it," the kid says. He moves to curl in on himself further. Then the M-4 brushes against his side and he flinches, holding it as far away from him as he can. Denji has to adjust his grip on his shoulder because of the movement. "I loved them and they took care of me and I- I shot them with everyone else. I didn't mean- I didn't want- Taiyo went inside for a second-"

The boy dissolves into a fresh round of sobbing. Denji pulls the kid into another hug, clinging to him all the tighter when he fails to respond, and takes in one of the slowest breaths of his life. It has to be slow, or he'll get so worked up that he won't be able to think. And he needs to think right now. Specifically, he thinks about what Kishibe told him about how this happened, how he thinks that the Gun Devil came back so Aki-like because the Gun Devil wasn't actually a person to begin with.

"Do you remember why you did it?" Denji asks.

The kid doesn’t respond at first. Denji’s starting to worry that maybe he isn’t going to when he gasps, "I-I wanted to. I wanted to kill-"

"So does every devil," Denji interrupts. "Do you remember thinking anything when you killed them? Do you remember actually deciding to do it?"

The kid stiffens. Slowly, cautiously, Denji releases him. He does not curl back in on himself, but it’s a long moment with the kid “staring” at him, that familiar rifle pointing directly at his face, before he slowly shakes his head.

His shoulders are starting to shake again. Denji doesn't know if it's a good idea to brush his tears away or not.

"Do you remember thinking anything at all?" he asks instead.

The boy shakes his head again. "Only..."

"Only Aki's thoughts," Denji finishes.

The kid nods. Even with half of his face obscured, it’s clear that he is miserable. Despairing. He looks like he thinks the world is about to end - like it has ended, he has died in the worst possible way, and now what’s left of him is going to be cast out into a world ruined beyond repair.

This is Denji’s fault.

On the bright side, at least he doesn't have to think much anymore. He knows what's going on. And maybe, just maybe, he knows what to do.

He starts by pointing out the thing that should have been obvious from how the kid's acted the past week, the reason he never should have let himself get worried or scared. The thing that the boy should understand too, given that he still thinks of the Hayakawas as his family.

"You're still Aki. Just..." Scrambled. Not human. Not only Aki. A twisted fusion of Aki and the devil he hated most, granted intelligence through the memories of its own victim and both confined to the body and mind of a child. "...Different."

Aki makes a strangled noise. Denji grabs his shoulder again - the human one this time - and says, "That's okay! I love you anyway. It's fine that you're like this."

"But that's worse," Aki chokes out.

Denji blinks. "...Huh?"

"It's worse if I'm Aki," he repeats. He sounds like he’s about to crumble - like everything Denji does makes this horrible situation worse - but there are beads of metallic goo forming around the edge of his rifle and M-4. "I was supposed to take care of you and Power.” The rifle droops. The M-4 begins to shrink and warp. “You were mine.” Streams of viscous liquid stream down his face and arm, dissolving as they roll down to hit the couch. “I was supposed to protect you, and I hurt you." He struggles to hold back another sob, but can't stop the fresh tears that build in bright blue, inhuman eyes that are nonetheless filled to the brim with humanity. "I tried to kill you. You shouldn't-"

Aki loses the fight to stop himself from bawling.

Not a second later, Denji pulls him into his arms once again.

"That wasn't your fault," Denji insists. "That was-" Makima. "It wasn't your fault."

"It was," Aki wheezes. "I messed up. You should hate Aki too."

Denji swallows around the lump in his throat. His freaking eyes are burning again. "Never. I can’t-” It feels like all the air has left his lungs. This is his fault, he killed him, he turned him into this, he- he doesn’t matter right now. He can’t let this be about his own shattering. “I don't hate any part of you. I love you the way you are," he says. Promises.

Aki's grip on his shoulders tightens, but he whimpers, "No. You can't."

"Yes. I forgive you whether you like it or not." It probably isn't the best thing to say, but Denji gets the feeling that it won't go well if he tries to tell him that there's nothing to forgive, that he is the one who needs to atone.

Aki buries his face in his shoulder. Without a rifle in the way, he fits easily. Denji adjusts his grip on him and runs his hand over his hair as his sobs fade into quiet weeping, and finally come to a stop entirely. "Come on," he murmurs, picking Aki up and walking across the apartment. For once, the kid doesn't argue about being carried.

Maneuvering the apartment while he has a child in his arms is difficult at best. Fetching a glass of water without setting said child down feels like nothing less than a herculean task. He would’ve loved to put it off, but with the amount of liquid Aki just cried out, that isn’t really an option. Water is fetched and precariously clutched in one hand as he makes his way to Aki’s room.

It was fucking stupid of Denji to let Aki sleep alone. He isn't going to make that mistake again.

"What are you doing?" Aki dully asks when he sets him down on the futon.

"I don't think you should be sleeping alone anymore," Denji says, passing him the water. Aki frowns at him, peering down at the glass with near incomprehension, but when Denji nods, he reluctantly holds it up to his mouth and takes a sip.

"I'm fine alone,” Aki mutters a moment later, setting the water down beside him.

"That wasn't even a good lie before." Which makes it even worse that Denji fell for it. That he let himself fall for it.

"You should be with the girls," Aki tries. It comes out as little more than a half-hearted whisper.

"They'll be fine on their own for a night." Frankly, they're going to have to be fine on their own for as long as it takes to get Aki stable.

Aki goes quiet. Denji takes the opportunity to say, "Try to get some sleep. Everything's going to be okay."

One way or another. He'll make sure of it.

Chapter Text

Denji doesn't know when he decides that he isn't going to go to school today. It doesn't really feel like a decision in the first place. He spends the night holding Aki, running his hand over his hair and murmuring reassurances until he calms down when he starts having nightmares, and by the time he thinks about school, he knows that he can't leave him today no matter how much class he's already missed. Even getting out of bed while he's still sleeping feels like an impossible task. Denji keeps a tired eye on the clock, but doesn't make any move to get up when it hits the point where he would normally start his day. He hears the clamor of two little girls waking up and a stampede of dogs being left out of the bedroom, but resists the urge to see what is going on, because while he doesn't know if it's the right call, it feels like the only option this morning.

He doesn't move a goddamn muscle until Aki's eyes flicker open. Crosshair-marked blue eyes peer up at Denji for a few seconds before he looks away. Aki doesn't try to pull out of his grasp, but he still feels the way that the kid shrinks in on himself.

Denji already knows the answer, but he still whispers, "How are you feeling?"

"Fine," Aki murmurs. It's the most unconvincing lie he's ever told. His voice wavers, his shoulders are shaking, and he doesn't even try to look at Denji when he says it. Which, he knew that he should expect a response like that, but it still hurts in a way that is slowly becoming familiar. He hates that it's becoming familiar.

"No, you aren't," Denji sighs. It sucks to say, but he has to. If he learned one thing from the fresh hell that was last night, it's that he can't keep rolling over and pretending that everything's okay. Which probably means that he shouldn't let Aki go back to trying to pretend that he's okay when he very clearly isn't. It sounds like the sort of thing that would make it a lot harder to get him better. Plus it's probably irresponsible parenting or... something like that.

Denji is going to have to buy a parenting book. What the fuck is happening to his life that he needs to buy a parenting book?

That's a question that's better left for later. He violently shoves it into the back of his mind when he sees Aki shrink further in on himself, all but curling into a tiny ball in Denji's arms.

"Hey, it's okay," Denji whispers, holding the kid closer to his chest. It comes as a relief when he burrows closer to him instead of pulling back. It also makes his heart hurt in a way that Makima reaching into his chest and tearing it out didn't manage to.

"No, it's not," comes Aki's muffled, delayed response.

Denji supposes that he should be happy that he's apparently given up on lying about being okay. Mostly, he just feels like shit. Except he can't feel like shit right now, because he needs to be focusing on making Aki not feel like shit.

"It will be," Denji promises. It feels like a rock dropped into his stomach, something that he can't ignore, something that he's going to have to center his reality around from this point on. He doesn't have a sharding clue how he's going to make this already, but he knows that he's going to. He has to. This is why the next thing that he says is what he thinks he's supposed to say at times like this. The words don't quite fit right in his mouth, but it's what they say in all the soft, sappy movies, and right now that's all he's got, so he does for it.

"Do you want to talk about it? Like, your memories, or anything else?"

The result of Denji's question is immediate and catastrophic. Aki makes a strangled choking sound and tightens his grip on Denji's shirt as he starts breathing a mile a minute. He would probably be pressing himself even closer to him if it were possible. As it is, Denji tries to hold him tighter anyway, internally cursing himself for being stupid enough to try something because he saw it in movies.

"Forget about that!" he blurts out. "We don't have to talk about your memories! You don't even have to think about it if you don't want!"

Aki whimpers. Denji can't tell if he's trying to talk but can't find the words, or if he's too far gone to even make the attempt. As he feels his tiny form tremble, he supposes that it doesn't really matter. All that Denji should be focusing on is fixing the mess he's made and trying not to make it worse. Because right now, it feels like all he can do is make bad situations worse.

"It's okay," Denji whispers, running a hand over the soft hair on Aki's head and desperately trying to sound soothing in a way he was never built to be. "You're okay. I love you the way you are. You don't have to think about any of that, okay? You can just..."

Denji's throat tightens. There are no words for the grief that strikes him in that moment. It is a flurry of moments, those bright, colorful times with Aki and Power as they learned to tolerate each other and eventually become a family. They are the memories that he'd sooner die than forget, the versions of them that he knows he won't see again for a very long time. His grief is not a feeling, but a torrent of everything that he is desperate to hold onto, everything that he'd think Aki would want to hold onto as well.

But Denji is an adult, or close enough to it. Those memories are what glue him together and allow him to keep staggering forward. When he looks down at Aki, he sees a child on the verge of shattering irreparably. So he swallows down his grief, shoves aside the things that he can't bring himself to think about right now, and forces himself to whisper, "You can just forget about it completely."

It would be nice to be able to say that Aki settles down after that. Truthfully, it feels a lot more like he gives in to exhaustion. Gradually, the shaking stops and his muscles relax, but he remains clinging to Denji, albeit without his earlier desperation. Denji wishes that he could ignore the feeling of moisture seeping into his shirt, not because it's uncomfortable or gross or anything, but because he doesn't really know what else he can do from here. As it is, he pretends to ignore it, because letting the kid know how shitty he feels right now will probably make him feel even worse.

Time passes. Denji fights back the adrenaline rush that threatens to arise with every suspicious sound that drifts in from the living area. Slowly but surely, Aki's tears dry up. When he's fairly certain that he isn't going to start back up again, Denji detangles his arm from the child, sits up, takes the glass of water sitting by the futon, and passes it to him.

Aki avoids eye contact as he sits up and drinks.

"Are you hungry?" Denji asks.

Aki shakes his head.

"...Alright," Denji says, pushing aside the odd contortion in his chest. Not eating isn't good, but it's still early enough in the day that it isn't the end of the world, either. Getting Aki to eat is a battle that he can pick at later, when he doesn't look like he's about to dissolve into a pile of dust and misery. Right now, small steps are probably all that he can get away with.

"Are you up for leaving the room?" Denji tries.

Aki shakes his head again.

Deni swallows. He wishes life could be simple enough for that to answer the question of how the day is going to do. He wishes that he could lay back down with Aki and block out the rest of the world until he starts to recover from the mess Denji's made of him. But he can hear laughter drifting in from the kitchen, the distant sound of dogs padding across the apartment, and there's a voice in the back of his mind reminding him that even if it was just Aki, he doesn't necessarily know how to fix this. Not when he still isn't completely sure what he's dealing with.

His head is starting to hurt. His throat is scratchy. His mouth feels like it's coated in dust. Somehow, he still sounds almost normal when he asks, "Are you okay for me to leave you alone for a little while?"

Aki nods.

Aki nods and Denji doesn't trust it. Denji hates that he doesn't trust it, because that's not how it's supposed to work with Aki. He's supposed to be strong and trustworthy and reliable, not... not this. But that isn't a path he can go down right now, because he promised that he'd love him like this, and thinking about what he's supposed to be - what he used to be - isn't loving him. It isn't anything that will help him right now.

Leaving him alone doesn't sound like something that will help him either. But Denji knows that he can't help him if he doesn't make any progress, and he can't make any progress if he stays locked in this room. Worse, he'll end up neglecting the girls and they'll end up with problems too, and then he'll just be a total failure.

"I'll be back," Denji promises, forcing himself up and onto his feet.

Aki lays back down without a word.

Denji doesn't let himself look back. There's too high a chance of him crawling right back into bed if he looks back. He opens the bedroom door, closes it behind him, and walks straight ahead. There are all sorts of suspicious noises coming from the kitchen; he doesn't so much as glance that way. Instead, he heads straight into the living room, where the dogs are curled up in a massive pile on the floor. He only looks at them for a second before zeroing in on a black and white husky peering up at him with cheerful eyes, tail wagging lazily.

He only has to put Cream Puff on the head to get him to stand up. A whistle has him obediently following him down the hallway. When he opens the door to Aki's bedroom, he pads in without a second thought, instinctively aware of what to do. He heads straight for Aki, pushing his head into his pile of blankets and licking mercilessly.

Aki squirms away from the canine with a strangled yelp.

"This is Cream Puff," Denji exclaims when a pair of befuddled blue eyes settle on him. "He's gonna keep you company."

"Why?" Aki croaks.

Denji knows that he shouldn't take a single-syllable question as a victory, but right then, it really feels like a victory. It doesn't do anything about the ache in his chest as he thinks, Because he's the snuggliest dog we have and I can't leave you alone right now.

"'Cause the girls are distracted and he gets upset when he doesn't have someone paying attention to him," he says. It's a believable enough lie. Cream Puff is already settling down next to Aki, shoving his head under his hand in a blatant demand for attention.

Aki hesitates for a moment before starting to pet the dog.

Denji lets out a faint breath of relief. It isn't a perfect solution by any means, but when he leaves the bedroom for the second time that day, he's able to breathe a little easier.

That lasts for a grand total of about five seconds. He walks into the kitchen and is greeted by a mess. It's not the worst mess he's ever seen, but it's not small by any means. The table is a mess of spilled cereal, half-melted ice cream, and chocolate sauce, all scattered across the surface and dripping off the sides. An open bag of melon buns completes the scene. Denji spends about ten seconds staring blankly before turning to the ones responsible. Nayuta looks like a deer in the headlights, while Power is sitting there with her mouth open, half a bun resting centimeters away from her lips.

Denji makes eye contact, and Power shoves the rest of the bun into her mouth. "Nayuta said we could!" she exclaims past her mouthful of sweet bread, pointing a sticky hand at her erstwhile sister.

Nayuta spends a moment gaping at Power in betrayal before turning to Denji with an accusatory glare. "You didn't get up to feed us like you were supposed to. I had to do something before we starved."

"So you did this? Ice cream and melon buns?" He should at least try not to sound so exhausted and empty. For one thing, none of this is their fault, and it will probably make them feel worried or upset or some other variation of shitty if they notice how freaked he is right now. For another thing, he can't afford to get freaked yet. He needs to find a way to fix this mess, which means that he probably won't get a chance to rest any time soon, let alone break down. He needs to pull himself together and be an adult.

And he will. Soon. It's just that looking at the brand new, literal mess laid out in front of him, he kind of... needs a second. Or as much as a second as he can get while dealing with the girls.

"We deserve ice cream and melon buns after your neglect," comes Nayuta's haughty response. There's an edge to her words, more trembling than accusatory, that makes Denji sink a little lower. That's another thing that he'll need to deal with, then. Actually, the problem of Nayuta and Aki and Nayuta upsetting Aki and Aki hurting Nayuta's feelings and Nayuta disliking Aki and that entire disaster is something that he's needed to deal with for a long time, but now it's reached the point where he can't put it off for any longer.

So he'll deal with it. Soon. Today. As soon as he's started to get a handle on... everything else.

For now, Denji takes in a deep breath, doesn't let himself close his eyes, and says, "I know. I'm sorry. There was a... situation."

Nayuta scrunches her lips together. Her eyes are blazing, but he can't tell if it's hurt or anger she's feeling, only that whatever she says next won't be good. He's tempted to hug Power when she abruptly swallows her mouthful of bun and asks, "So we can eat as much as we want?"

"As long as you don't get sick," Denji says, pulling himself together and being an adult - or close enough to it. "When you get sugar rush, take the dogs outside, 'cept Cream Puff, and go play with them in the courtyard. I'll go find you when I'm done."

The heavy emotions on Nayuta's expression are overcome by curiosity. "When you're done with what?"

Unfortunately, at the same instant that she asks, Power demands, "Can we take Aki?"

The look that Nayuta shoots Power is definitely hurt. This time, it's Denji who rushes to speak before her. "No, he's not feeling well. And I've gotta make a phone call. You should go play by yourselves, just the two of you, and I'll come find you when I'm done, okay?"

Both of them look at him suspiciously. However, there's a weight to Nayuta's gaze that's absent on Power. Frankly, he's not sure that he could handle getting it from both of them. He's barely able to handle this shit from one of them on top of Aki's turmoil. But he has to deal with it, so he offers a weak smile and says, "I'll talk to you later, okay, Nayuta? And we can do something nice for dinner tonight."

Nayuta looks away with a heavy frown that borders on a scowl. "Will you have anything good to say?" she mutters.

I'd better, Denji thinks.

"Of course I will," he says. "But I need to talk to the old man about something before I can do that, and I can't do that until you're out of here."

Denji really needs to look at getting a phone that isn't in the kitchen. At this point, it might actually be worth it to get one in his room. Except there wouldn't be much point in that, would there? He's only got two bedrooms and there are three children. Fuck, they're going to have to move at some point, aren't they?

Whatever. One disaster at a time.

"I'm not done eating yet," Power whines, reaching for another bun. He really, really hopes that this is only her second one, but he doesn't have the time to fight with her in case it isn't.

It especially isn't a battle that he wants to pick when Nayuta snarls, "You can't force us out of here."

"I'm not going to," Denji sighs. "Just let me know when you're done, okay?"

Power takes a bite from her second bun, sneers at him, and says, "You will make your stupid calls on our time."

Denji rolls his eyes. "Yeah, I just said that."

With that, he walks into the living room, flops back on the couch, and stares blankly up at the ceiling. It's not exactly restful, but it's the closest thing that he's going to get right now, even if those moments of inaction make fresh guilt well up in his chest. Still, he needs it. It gives him time to rehearse the upcoming conversation in his head and psyche himself up for it. By the time Nayuta collects the dogs and leads them and Power outside, Denji can almost pretend that he's ready.

Denji's tired. It makes him feel like his body's aching even though he knows that it shouldn't be, 'cause he's seventeen years old and objectively too young for arthritis. He's also the Chainsaw Devil, so that probably won't be a thing even when he is a tiny little old man, assuming that he can age at all. Still, his bones seem to creak as he hauls himself off the couch and makes his way into the kitchen.

The mess in the kitchen is only a little worse than it was when he left. That's good. He was going to ignore it even if it was ten times worse.

Denji picks the phone up and pounds Kishibe's number into the keypad. It's ground into his memory by this point, impossible to get wrong, except his hand is shaking so badly that he finds himself double-checking to make sure that he's getting it right. As the dial rings, he isn't sure that he did. Then the other line is answered with a familiar grunt. It would have been a relief to hear if it didn't make this entire situation feel that much more real.

"Kishibe, what the fuck?" Denji asks.

"You're going to have to elaborate," Kishibe says.

"Aki," Denji hisses, low enough that none of the children can possibly catch it, loud enough that the old man can't miss.

"Ah." There's a pause, during which Denji can hear the sloshing of liquid in a flask. It comes to an end with a heavy swallow and, "Are you ready to listen to me?"

"I always listen to you," Denji protests.

Kishibe chuckles. It's not a happy sound, but dry and judgmental. It's the sort of noise that would have made a lesser man feel something akin to shame. As it is, it just tells Denji that he's in for a really shitty conversation.

"You listen when it suits you and when you really need to," the old bastard says. "The second you found out about that kid, you were too desperate to see what you wanted to see to listen to a damn thing to the contrary."

"Then why-"

Denji cuts himself off. He can't ask why he let him take Aki in the first place, that might imply that he can't handle him. That he doesn't want him. Either of those things could make Kishibe take him back, and that - Denji isn't going to lose him, even if he isn't quite what he expected. No way in hell.

"Why the hell didn't you try harder to warn me?" Denji tries instead.

"Apart from not wanting to waste time trying to milk a rock? You're gonna have to tell me what you wanted me to warn you about."

It's a statement that makes Denji's stomach twist. He would have thought that the answer would be obvious, but if Kishibe needs him to explain, then just how many problems does Aki have? Is there more that Denji doesn't know about, shit that he's going to blindly stumble upon at some point, probably hurting Aki even worse in the process? Or are there just so many facets to Aki's existing fuckery that Kishibe wants him to lay it out for him?

Denji doesn't know that he can lay it out. There's so much, he's not sure that he actually understands half of it, and the thought of trying to give voice to the stuff that he does get makes him feel like he just drank a cup of acid. He can't just say nothing though, because then nothing will get done, and Aki deserves better than that, even if Denji is... not at his best ever right now.

"He's fucked up," is what Denji manages to come up with. "He remembers all the worst shit from his last life, and I don't know what else he remembers aside from that. He won't talk about it." He's shaken up enough that Denji can't bring himself to talk about it. "He still hates the Gun Devil as much as ever, even though he is the Gun Devil now, and he thinks he killed his fucking family, and..."

I don't know how to make it better.

"I told you that the memories weren't a good thing," Kishibe points out.

"You did," Denji mutters, the admission almost as bitter as the meaning behind them.

"Devils lose their memories upon reincarnation for a reason," Kishibe continues. "A whole lot of 'em might be bloodthirsty monsters, but not many of 'em are immune to psychological trauma. If they didn't lose their memories, it would keep building until they were barely able to function, let alone wreak havoc."

Denji knows that he shouldn't argue. He knows that it's time for him to shut up and listen. The words take on a life of their own, bursting past his lips before he can think to stop them. "But not all of Aki's memories were bad! Shouldn't that take care of all the - other shit?"

Because he can't have only bad memories. Aki wouldn't forget all the good stuff, all of the fun he had with him and Power, and just keep all the awful shit. He wouldn't.

There's silence on the other end of the line. For one horrible moment, Denji thinks that he might have fucked up, that he might be wrong again, that Kishibe's going to tell him exactly that.

He doesn't. But what he said isn't that much better, either.

"He's a kid," Kishibe flatly says. "A kid with memories of shit that would be nightmarish for adults. It doesn't matter how much else he remembers, that's going to be overwhelming."

Denji swallows. He tries and fails to find his words, because as much as he wants to protest, he knows that Kishibe has a point. He fails, but he keeps trying, and eventually, he manages to say, “Right. But that’s just now, right? Like… if he can get past that shit, someday he’ll be okay, and we’ll be able to talk about the good stuff.”

Kishibe is quiet for longer than he should be. It’s not a long time, but it’s long enough that Denji’s skin has started to itch by the time he says, “Maybe.” A pause, then, “Is that all you wanted to ask about?”

His tone says that he knows it’s not. Still, he waits for Denji to draw in a shaky breath and admit, “No. He said… Last night, Aki said that the Gun Devil is inside of him too. It’s why he thinks he killed his family, ‘cause all the memories are getting jumbled together.”

“It’s more than that,” Kishibe says. “He is the Gun Devil. He’s also Aki Hayakawa.”

“How the hell does that work?” Denji asks, because he knows that he came to a similar conclusion while speaking to Aki last night, but it’s not… It’s not the same. Hearing it from Kishibe makes it hit differently. Hearing someone else explain makes him realize that his ‘understanding’ may have been an attempt to calm Aki down more than anything, not because he actually understands.

He understands even less when Kishibe asks, “You know how blenders work?”

Denji frowns. “Of course.”

“Imagine that happening with Hayakawa and the Gun Devil.”

“Then why isn’t he more… Murderous?”

“He probably is, but doing everything that he can to hide it. There’s nothing that can completely remove a devil’s instincts and impulses. ‘S just that most of them act on them. On the rare occasion that they don’t, it’s because they contradict their personality.”

There’s a pause.

Denji doesn’t know what to say. He barely knows what to think.

A sigh echoes through the receiver. Denji hears Kishibe take a swig from his flask before continuing, “The Gun Devil wasn’t intelligent before this. It was only instinct. Getting fused with Hayakawa drop-kicked the thing into sentience and fucked it up a fair bit, but it still didn’t have a personality of its own. Most of what you’re seeing is from Hayakawa, ‘cept for some of the guilt and nightmares.”

“Oh,” Denji murmurs.

“Oh,” Kishibe repeats. He sighs before asking, “Does this change anything?”

“Huh?”

“Do you still want him?”

Denji is snapped out of his stupor at the speed of light. “Of course!” he shouts into the phone, barely remembering to tune his voice down before he continues. “That isn’t his fault. I’m not gonna throw Aki out ‘cause of some shit that a part of him did while he was a mindless monster.”

Besides, he promised to love Aki the way he is now, didn’t he? That includes finding a way to love the parts that aren’t Aki.

Somehow.

“Good to hear,” Kishibe says, even though there’s something in his voice that makes Denji think that he doesn’t really think this situation is good at all. “Do you need anything?”

Denji sighs. It chafes to keep asking Kishibe for shit, especially after basically just admitting that he didn’t actually know what he was getting into, but right now, it can’t be helped.

“I’m not goin’ to school today, and then it’s the weekend, but on Monday…”

“You need me to watch the kids,” Kishibe finishes.

“Yeah. I’m still gonna try taking Nayuta to school with me, but I don’t wanna leave Aki with just Power.”

There’s silence from the other end of the phone. There’s silence and Denji worries; he worries that Kishibe will ask what happened that he’s not willing to leave Aki alone with Power, he’s afraid that he’ll ask him what his plan is going forward, he’s scared that he’ll give up on him and tell him that he can’t do this.

Instead, Kishibe says, “I can do that. And Denji?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t try to turn this Aki into the old one.”

“Right.” There’s a painful lump in Denji’s throat. He swallows it down and continues, “‘Cause the Gun Devil’s in there too, right? Even if they’re really similar, I can’t expect him to be a perfect match.”

Kishibe doesn’t respond.

They say their goodbyes and end the call soon after that. Denji hangs the phone up and sets it on the receiver, trying to figure out what to think, what to feel, what to do.

That isn't a luxury he can afford. No more than thirty seconds pass before the apartment door is flung open and Nayuta shouts, "Power threw up!"

Denji closes his eyes, gives himself to the count of one, and gets his ass moving.

The rest of Denji’s day is hectic.

Kind of.

Not really.

It’s fucking complicated.

If this were any other day, it would be a cakewalk. If it were any other day, he would breeze through and end it all feeling more refreshed than ever. But it’s today, and every little task feels like a battle against an enemy that he can’t land a hit on no matter how hard he tries.

First, he rushes outside to take care of the Power vomit disaster. Which really is a disaster; for such a little girl, she managed to fit a ton of crap inside her stomach and consequently spew it out all over herself. She’s in hysterical dramatics when he gets to her and it takes a while to settle her down. He’s embarrassingly grateful that Nayuta listens to him and herds the dogs and herself inside while he’s taking care of that whole mess.

The next step is taking Power back inside and giving her a bath.

Bath time for Power is always an ordeal. She’s old enough that he can leave her alone to bathe herself, but doing so means doling out her shampoo and conditioner into little cups and hiding the rest of his bathing supplies except for a bar of soap, otherwise she’ll pour half of it out. Staying in the bathroom with her means that he’ll get soaking wet. The bathroom floor is going to get soaked no matter what. Considering that she was just vomiting, leaving her alone isn’t exactly an option, so getting soaking wet it is.

Except that doesn’t happen. Apparently, violently expelling the contents of her stomach tired Power out, because she lets Denji scrub her down without protest. She looks too miserable for him to be truly grateful for the silver lining, even if she did bring this on herself by being an absolute pig. He asks her what she wants to do once he’s changed her into clean clothes, and when she says that she wants to watch TV, he agrees without a second thought.

Washing Power’s dirty clothes would be the next thing on his list on a normal day. Today, he stops to check on Aki. Denji finds him sleeping curled up next to Cream Puff, who is snuggled against him sweetly and generally being the best dog in the world. Or at least, he looks like he’s sleeping. Admittedly, Denji can’t tell if Aki’s really asleep or just faking it in some all-consuming depressive break. He briefly considers trying to check, but decides to leave him be for the time being, since it’d probably mean waking him up if he really is asleep.

Cleaning Power’s clothes comes next after that. It isn’t very hard; all that he really has to do is rinse the chunks off and throw them in the washing machine. It’s definitely not the grossest thing that Denji’s ever done, it’s not even close. The problem is the time that it takes. No, it doesn’t take long, but every second spent on the task hangs heavily over Denji’s head, moments that feel very much like they’re wasted when he has so much else to do today.

That should make what he does next feel like an even bigger waste of time. It doesn’t though. It accomplishes absolutely nothing and makes his heart feel like it’s being weighed down by a ten tonne weight, but it manages to feel like the most important thing that he’s done since calling Kishibe.

The girls are content watching the TV - some nature documentary that’s educational enough to satisfy Nayuta and bloody enough to entertain Power. Seeing this, Denji slips back into Aki’s room and lays down next to him.

He’s still asleep. This close, Denji can see that he really is asleep. He can see his eyes rolling under his eyelids and his fingers twitch in the depths of his dreams. Denji watches closely, prepared to wake him up at the first sign of a nightmare. It doesn’t come, which is a relief in more ways than one. With how little sleep he got last night, he needs to get as much rest as he can now. It might fuck with his sleep schedule in a way that will come back to bite everyone in the ass later, but that’s a problem for future Denji. It also really, really doesn’t matter compared to all the other shit going on right now.

Still, Denji can’t let him sleep forever. He needs to eat at some point, for one thing. The girls too, especially since Power’s violently ejected all of the sugar that she stuffed herself with that morning. Denji keeps one eye on the clock, and when it hits noon, he gently rouses Aki and asks if he’s hungry.

Aki says no.

Denji tells him that he’s gotta try to eat anyway.

What follows is a short argument - monosyllabic on Aki’s part - that kinda breaks Denji’s heart but also makes him dig his heels in. In the end, Aki agrees to eat something if he brings it into the room. It’s not a perfect victory, but it’s close enough, so Denji accepts it and heads out to take care of lunch.

He feeds the girls first. Power had recovered her energy after her brief bout of self-inflicted violent illness. She and Nayuta sit around the kitchen table and chatter happily. Denji only half listens as he prepared their food. When he sets their meal down in front of him, he tells them that he has some stuff to take care of and walks away with two more plates.

He knows that they know something’s wrong with Aki. Denji may be stupid, but he’s not blind. He catches the confused worry on Power’s face and the stormy expression on Nayuta’s. It stirs up his insides in a way that makes him feel sick, but right now, he has no choice but to set it aside as another thing that he’ll have to deal with later.

Aki eats his lunch. Denji eats with him. He can’t tell whether or not Aki is only eating because Denji is eating with him. It would be nice to think that he isn’t, but there’s a misery clinging to the kid that makes it impossible to know for sure. There’s an urgency to the situation that stops him from telling himself that he isn’t just for the sake of being able to rest a little easier. It’s an urgency that makes him assume that he is, regardless of how much it sucks, and eat as slowly as possible for the sake of making sure that Aki finishes before him.

When they’re done, Denji asks Aki if he feels up to leaving the room yet. He says no again.

Cream Puff may be a saint of a dog, but he’s starting to fidget with visible discomfort by this point. Denji reluctantly resigns himself to leaving Aki alone for the time that it takes for Cream Puff to take a potty break. By the time he lets him back in, he’s decided to take a chance on trying a new tactic.

“Hey, Power?” Denji calls, poking his head into the living room.

Power looks away from her show about hyenas tearing each other to shreds or whatever the fuck.

“Can you come here for a sec?”

Nayuta scowls at him for daring to take Power away. It reminds Denji that he’s not anywhere close to done with the bullshit of the day, but she doesn’t try to stop Power, so it isn’t an immediate emergency. For her part, Power shoots him a confused look, but hops off the couch and walks over to him without complaint.

Denji crouches down to her level and whispers, “Aki’s feeling pretty shitty today.”

Power nods. “Because he’s broken.”

Denji winces - first at the meaning of her words, then the volume of said words. He glances down the hall and, upon rationalizing that she probably wasn’t loud enough for Aki to hear, looks back at Power.

“He’s not broken,” he says. “You can’t call him broken. He’s just… going through some shit and having trouble adjusting.” Denji pauses, mulling over his next words, and ultimately decides that there isn’t any way to ask other than just asking it. “You still love him, right?”

Power frowns. “What do you mean?”

“I mean…” Fuck. “He’s not broken. But if he was, you wouldn’t turn him away or anything, right?”

“Of course,” Power sniffs, jaw setting stubbornly. “He is mine. I will fix him.”

Alright. Denji can work with this.

“Then do you think you can try to make him feel better?”

Power nods and turns around to run down the hall. Denji grabs her shoulder before she can take off.

“You’re gonna have to be gentle, and you can’t say anything about there being something wrong with him. Can you do that?”

Denji tries to sound urgent. Like he means it. He needs Power to recognize that he means it.

Power lets out an impatient huff. “Of course I can, dummy.” With that, she wrenches her shoulder out of his grasp and takes off down the hall. She opens the door and disappears into Aki’s room in a flash.

Denji waits.

He doesn’t hear anything alarming. No one comes outside. Once enough time passes to assure him that his plan might be working, he takes a deep breath, stands up, and walks into the living room to do the thing that he probably should have done a long time ago.

“Hey, Nayuta,” Denji calls, stepping into the living room.

Nayuta shoots him a sour look that he won’t pretend that he hasn’t earned.

“Can you turn off the TV?” he asks.

Nayuta’s lips pinch into a tight line. “Maybe.” She looks at the television, which has moved onto what looks like a special about whales, and then back at Denji. “Are you going to say anything that’s worth turning the TV off for?”

“Yes,” Denji says, because her stony face tells him that he can’t risk the ‘I think so that he would have offered otherwise’.

Nayuta’s expression doesn’t soften. She shoots him a long, lingering look that is wary, skeptical, bitter, skittish, and about fifty other things that Denji knows that he probably deserves after the past few weeks, but still hurts to see. He can’t find it in himself to feel relieved what she lets out an irritated sigh and turns off the television.

She doesn’t look at him when he sits down next to her. But she doesn’t move away either, and he hopes that’s a good enough sign to cancel out the bad.

“We need to talk about Aki,” he says after a few tense heartbeats.

“Oh. Him.” Nayuta starts to look at Denji, but turns away at the last second. “You love him more than me. What’s worth talking about there?”

Denji’s breath gets caught in his throat. A thousand thoughts race through his head, all too fast for him to process. He doesn’t know the right thing to say. He can’t know, because that requires thought, and he isn’t able to think fast enough right now no matter how hard he tries, but the words come spilling out anyway.

“I don’t love him more than you. He just needs me more right now.”

Nayuta whips her head around to glare at him. “So that means he can treat me however he wants?” she spits.

“No!” Denji exclaims. “That wasn’t okay. He shouldn’t have said that shit to you, and I’m sorry he did.”

“Then why didn’t you do something?”

“Because-”

It looked like you gave worse than you got.

I didn’t think he could handle it.

It doesn’t feel right to scold Aki.

I don’t know how to do any of this.

“Do you remember when you and Power found that picture?” Denji asks.

Nayuta nods hesitantly. She looks confused as shit, but that’s fine, because even if he doesn’t know anything else, Denji can at least say that he knows where he’s going with this conversation. “The one of his past life?” she asks.

Denji nods. “Remember how he used to be human?”

“You mean he looked human.”

Denji shakes his head. “No, he really was human. That’s why me and Powy didn’t think he was gonna come back.”

“But that doesn’t make any sense!” Nayuta explode. “Humans don’t turn into devils. He must’ve just tricked you when he was really the gun devil all along, like he tried to do with me at the park.”

Denji’s chest hurts. He also finds himself struggling to hold back a sigh. It’s a weird combination.

“Normally humans don’t turn into devils,” he says. “Did you know that the Gun Devil wasn’t intelligent before?”

Nayuta scoffs. “He doesn’t seem very smart now.”

Denji feels a burst of irritation that he can’t afford right now. For a second, he wonders if this is how Aki used to feel when dealing with him, then pushes it aside before it can do something to his insides. He does allow himself to hope that it doesn’t come across too strongly when he says, “Nayuta, I really need you to listen to me, ‘cause this shit is really, really important.”

Nayuta doesn’t apologize. She never apologizes. But she goes quiet and glances away for half a second, which is basically the same thing where she is concerned.

“Aki was a human who got turned into the Gun Fiend. But the Gun Devil itself wasn’t really a person at that point, so when-” I killed Aki. “-he died, it kinda… latched onto him and dragged him down to hell with it. And when the Gun Devil was reincarnated, Aki got reincarnated with it.”

And together they made the most deeply hurt child Denji had ever met. A child that he doesn’t know how to help. But he’s gotta, so there’s no point in dwelling on it, except he has to dwell on it, ‘cause ignoring it is what let it get this bad in the first place, but-

“So he used to be human. What does that have to do with him being a little brat?” Nayuta crosses her arms and scowls up at Denji expectantly, daring him to come up with an excuse for Aki’s behavior. It’s clear as day that she thinks he can’t possibly have one.

She’s so wrong that it’s almost funny. Except she isn’t totally wrong, because she’s still right when she says that Aki shouldn’t have lashed out at her the way he did. So Denji will just… try to find some sort of balance between Aki having a valid excuse and the fact that he has been an absolute asshole to Nayuta.

Not that Nayuta hasn’t been an asshole back.

They’ve both been total shit to each other, and at the end of the day, it’s all Denji’s fault for letting it get as far as it has. And the only thing he can think of to maybe fix it is telling the truth.

“Did you know that Aki remembers being human?” Denji asks.

He pauses to let Nayuta respond. After a few seconds, she hesitantly shakes her head and grumbles, “I guess it makes sense. Something had to make him all crazy.”

Denji decides to ignore that part. “His memories are scrambled, but he remembers that a lot of devils hurt him really badly. And a lot of people he cared about,” he continues, speaking slowly enough that he can choose his words carefully - or as carefully as he’s capable of. “He also remembers that the Gun Devil killed his old family. He remembers Power from before, but… he’s really struggling with what happened to him. He also knows that you’re a strong devil, and that scares him a lot.”

Nayuta looks down at her feet. Being unable to see her expression makes Denji anxious. He’s also weirdly, selfishly grateful, even though he doesn’t really know why.

“It’s not your fault. It’s not-” Anything you did. “You don’t deserve the way he’s treated you. But right now, I-” Denji cuts himself off. He takes in a deep breath and slaps plaster over the parts of himself that he feels threatening to break. He takes the seconds necessary to make sure that he can hold himself together, because he’s already failed these kids badly enough without letting himself completely fall apart now. It would be nice if he didn’t have to admit those failings, but that part’s kinda unavoidable at this point. “I’m tryin’ to help Aki, but I don’t know how long it’s going to take to fix this. I’m gonna try asking him to be nicer to you, but with all the shit he’s going through… I’m asking you to step up and be the bigger person, ‘cause you’re the only one who can.”

Nayuta nods slowly. “I understand,” she murmurs.

Denji allows himself to feel a flicker of hope. “You do?”

“Yeah.” Nayuta looks up at Denji, and for what it’s worth, she looks like she knows what she’s talking about. “Power’s right. He’s broken.”

“For fuck’s…” Denji drags his hand down his face with a groan. “He’s not broken,” he grumbles as his fingers slip off his chin. “He’s just hurt and needs some time to heal.”

“You’re just saying that because you don’t want him to be broken.”

“You-” Denji pauses, grits his teeth, and tries again. “You know what? You can think that as long as you don’t say that to Aki. Okay?”

Nayuta nods. It’s not the compromise Denji wants - it’s hardly even a compromise at all - but it’s all that he’s going to get, so he opts to leave it be.

“Can you-” Denji interrupts himself for the umpteenth time in this conversation, this time because he’s spontaneously realized that there’s nothing that he can ask of Nayuta that wouldn’t be unfair to her. He’s already asked her to do something unfair, he doesn’t want to put it into words again. “Are you going to be okay?”

“Yeah,” Nayuta says. “I know what I need to do.” She sounds subdued. Quiet. Not like Nayuta, but god dammit, Denji really needs her to be telling the truth right now.

“Are you mad at me?” Denji softly asks.

“A little.”

And that definitely isn’t a lie, so maybe the rest isn’t either.

“I’m sorry,” Denji says.

“I’ll forgive you eventually,” Nayuta mutters.

Denji manages a weak smile. “I’m looking forward to it.”

Chapter Text

The weekend is rough. Denji spends the entire time feeling like he’s walking on a tightrope– that a single misstep would topple everything over. Still, nothing bad happens and Aki is talking and leaving his room by Sunday. That has to count for something.

It isn’t enough to keep him from being relieved when Monday rolls around, even if that relief is accompanied by a sickening combination of guilt and dread.

For all that the details of his situation have changed drastically, the general shape of the thing remains pretty much the same. He’ll be in deep shit if he misses much more school, which means that unless he wants to give up and drop out right now, he needs to go in. Aki and Nayuta cannot be left alone with each other, so he needs to bring one of them with him. Aki recently had an all-consuming psychological breakdown, so Nayuta needs to be the one who comes with him. Easy-peasy.

Well. It would be easy-peasy if leaving Aki alone didn’t feel as treacherous as it does.

Leaving him alone with Nayuta would be actively disastrous, but right now, Denji isn’t feeling too great about leaving Aki alone with Power either. Her love of him doesn’t change the fact that she doesn’t know how to handle his shit. Denji barely knows how to deal with it, there’s no way that this tiny version of the Blood Devil will know what to do if he has another breakdown. Both of them could end up with some sort of fucked up emotional damage if she tries.

That leaves Denji with only one option. It’s an option that he fucking hates, but he doesn’t have the time to invent a second one. All that he can do is get up early in the morning and get the door when someone knocks. He does it with a smile, wide and as close to bright as he can manage right now. It’s a smile that says that everything’s fine, everything’s normal, and he may have called for reinforcements, but that doesn’t mean that he necessarily needs them.

Kishibe is visibly sober and visibly disgruntled by it. He takes one look at Denji’s grin and makes a noise that borders on disgust. “Wipe that look off your face,” he says. “We both know you wouldn’t have called me here if you weren’t at your limit.”

Denji frowns. “I’m not at my limit,” he argues. “I just didn’t want to leave Aki without an adult when he’s going through his shit.”

Because Aki is at his limit, even if Denji doesn’t want to say it. Not that it matters that he doesn’t say it. Kishibe gives him a long, piercing look, and Denji finds his gaze drifting up above his head.

Kishibe shoulders his way into the apartment with a sigh. Denji remembers to move a second too late to avoid getting his shoulder clipped.

“You don’t need to lie to me,” the old man says. “You aren’t struggling enough for me to take any of them away yet. At this point, it would only fuck the lot of you up even worse.” Kishibe shoots him a thoughtful look. “Frankly, I’m surprised you aren’t worse off.”

Denji closes the door. “I kill devils for a living,” he says, only belatedly realizing that he hasn’t actually killed a devil in a while now. He pushes the thought aside and continues, “What’s taking care of kids got on that?”

“For people like us? It’s a whole lot harder.”

Denji doesn’t know what to say to that. His solution is to breeze past it like that entire snippet of conversation didn’t happen.

“I’m gonna get ready and wake the kids up. Do you need anything?”

Kishibe shakes his head, settling down in one of the seats at the kitchen table. “I’ll help myself if I need anything.”

Denji isn’t about to protest that. Even if he didn’t desperately need his help, he knows better than to deny the terrifying old coot. He offers him a thumbs up before heading back toward his room. Or rather, Aki’s room, which might as well be his as well after the events of the weekend. It’s not like he’s gonna let him go back to sleeping alone, and shoving him and Nayuta in the same room isn’t anywhere near being an option.

The room is pitch dusky black when he opens the door, the only source of light bleeding in from around the edges of the closed blinds. It’s dark enough that it would be a hazard to try to walk through in the other room. Here, Denji is able to walk easily and comfortably. He bought more stuff for Aki since he moved in, sacrificing the money that he was going to spend on his own futon to make sure that he wasn’t missing anything that he could want, but the kid has barely touched most of it. What he has looked at or played with is always carefully set back on the dresser, shelf, or wherever else he got it from.

It’s the neatest child’s bedroom he’s ever seen. Granted, Denji hasn’t been in a lot of children’s bedrooms, but even he can tell that it is deeply, innately wrong. As he pads across pristine wood flooring, he kinda wishes that he’d step on a Lego.

Aki is still asleep. He stays asleep when Denji rolls the creamy plastic blinds up with a faint clatter, allowing the dull light of dawn to spill into the bedroom. He stares at him for a moment, internally weighing the pros and cons of waking him up. The decision is made for him when he squints at his face and notices that he actually looks peaceful. After a weekend of fitful, nightmare-filled sleep, Denji isn’t going to wake him up if he’s actually having good dreams for one. It sucks that he’ll have to within an hour, but at least he can get another fifteen minutes or so.

Denji slips out of the bedroom as quietly as he can. As he walks into the other room, he realizes that he should probably move his clothes and assorted other shit into Aki’s room, then pushes that aside as something to worry about once he’s survived the day.

The girls don’t wake up when he enters their room. That much isn’t a surprise; Aki’s a pretty light sleeper, but those two could sleep through a Kazoo Devil attack. What is a little surprising is the position that they’ve contorted themselves into. Power is lying horizontally with her arms wrapped tightly around Nayuta’s waist and her head pillowed on her stomach. Nayuta, in turn, has one of her legs drooped over Power and is bent over so that she can tangle her fingers in her hair. Denji’s spine hurts just looking at it, but the sound of snoring fills the room, reminding him once again of the miraculous elasticity of children’s joints.

Denji has to weave his way around the sea of dogs scattered throughout the room to reach the dresser. He’s halfway through collecting a change of clothes when he realizes that he should probably take them out before anything else. Normally he’d leave that up to Nayuta, but with everything that’s going on, he… it’s not that he doesn’t trust her, but it doesn’t feel right to drop that on her. So he heaves a tired sigh, sets his clothes on the dresser, and sets about corralling the huskies and taking them outside.

It takes about fifteen minutes to take the dogs to the bathroom. Those fifteen minutes are enough to force Denji to rush through the rest of the morning routine. Kishibe’s presence in the kitchen is the only thing that stops him from just taking their leashes off and letting them wander. The dogs are herded back into the bedroom, where the girls are still fast asleep. He then grabs his clothes, races into the bathroom, and takes one of the quickest showers of his life. It’s short enough that the water has only just started to really warm up when he turns it off. He dries off, changes into his clothes, runs a hand through his hair in lieu of coming it, and finds himself hesitating the second he opens the door.

Should he wake Aki or the girls up first? Aki’s the one who’s all emotionally fragile right now, so it would be good to give him some more time to prepare before starting his day. But on the other hand, Nayuta’s the one being dragged to school with him, so maybe she should be woken up first.

Once Nayuta is awake, Power will be too. Power is nothing less than a hurricane. The moment she’s up, she’ll be about and making noise, which has a good chance of waking Aki up. Denji needs to make sure to actually tell Aki about what’s going to happen today, not let him piece it together after waking up to complete chaos.

Aki it is.

Denji heads back into his room and crouches down by his side. It takes a moment for him to give himself the mental push needed to reach out and give Aki’s shoulder a gentle shake. The kid groans. A few seconds later, a single eye cracks open, crosshairs turning in unfocused confusion before settling in on Denji. “What?” he grumbles.

“It’s a school day,” Denji says.

“Oh,” Aki murmurs. “‘Mh– I’m coming with you?”

Denji shakes his head. “Nah, Nayuta is. But Kishibe’s here to watch you.”

Aki sits up, presumably so that he can frown at him more effectively. “I don’t need to be watched.”

Denji manages to stop himself from saying bullshit. Judging by the way Aki’s eyes narrow, however, he isn’t completely successful at keeping the sentiment from showing on his face.

He holds his hands up in a gesture of innocence. “Okay, you don’t need to be watched,” he allows, even though he’s pretty sure that they both know it’s a lie at this point. “But don’t you want someone around to cook for you? I don’t have time to make stuff before I go today.”

Aki looks away. “I can cook,” he sullenly mutters.

“You can’t reach half of the cupboards, dude.”

Aki looks back at him with an expression of pure betrayal, like Denji wasn’t supposed to acknowledge the simple, plainly visible fact that he’s a shrimp. “That’s not my fault!” he cries.

“Yeah, but that’s not gonna make you any taller,” Denji points out.

Aki scowls. “I should steal your kneecaps, then I could reach,” he mutters.

Denji blinks. That’s… not something he completely expected to hear from a kid his age. It is a very Aki thing to say though, albeit a far more immature version of Aki. More importantly, they’re the words of a grumpy, indignant kid with complexes about his height and age, but they don’t make him sound like he’s on the verge of total emotional collapse. Which means that it’s probably okay if Denji leaves him with Kishibe.

Probably.

Maybe.

He has to be.

“Are you ready to get up?” Denji asks.

Aki looks at him weird. “I am up.”

“Yeah, but…” Denji shrugs. “I dunno. You could stay in here for a little while longer if you aren’t ready to start doing stuff.”

Aki makes a face like he’s considering it. It doesn’t last long enough for Denji to regret asking. “I’m not gonna sit around here doing nothing,” he says.

Denji holds back his sigh of relief. “Okay, let’s get going then. Do you think you can get dressed quick?”

“I can get dressed faster than you,” Aki says, peeling himself out from under the covers.

“You’re only faster than me when I’m being lazy,” Denji argues, because for all that kids are supposed to be hyperactive little balls of energy, being seven or so has slowed Aki down a lot.

Not that he’d ever willingly admit it. “You’re always lazy,” he says with such confidence that you might almost believe that it isn’t a blatant lie. “You’d sleep until noon every day if you could,” he adds as he rifles through his bag of clothes, which is… less of a blatant lie. Still, it’s big words coming from a kid who spent the weekend sleeping until noon, even if he doesn’t dare point that out beyond the confines of his own head.

As he watches Aki rifle through the bag where they’ve been keeping his clothes, Denji acknowledges to himself that he needs to buy him a dresser. And more clothes than can fit in one good sized duffle and two shopping bags, because while Aki may have enough clothes now, Denji’s not sure that it’s enough. And he should probably get a futon for himself at some point, presumably. These thoughts are quickly followed by the question of how much buying that stuff will cost, which has him shoving it all aside to be dealt with later.

He focuses back on reality right when Aki finishes getting dressed. Probably a good thing. He may be glad that he’s feeling good enough to have an attitude this morning, but that doesn’t mean that he wants to deal with a munchkin giving him shit over zoning out. It’s bad enough that he looks at him like he’s stupid when he asks, “You ready, then?”

Aki walks past him and out the door without saying anything. Denji follows him with a snort. “Someone’s feeling rude today,” he says with no real heat.

“Everyone in this apartment is rude,” Aki grumbles. The words make Denji’s heart start to sink. He catches it before it drops too low, reminding himself that Aki is and always has been a surly individual in general. It’s not like he’s surprised he isn’t all joy and sunshine. Even if he isn’t feeling as good as Denji had initially hoped, he’s still made progress compared to yesterday and the day before that.

“Doesn’t that make you want to act better?” Denji asks. “Set a good example and all that.”

“You’re supposed to be the one setting a good example.”

“That’s no fair, you can’t call me lazy and then say that I’m supposed to be the one setting a good example.”

“Yes I can.” Aki looks up at him with a look of wide-eyed innocence and speaks in a stone-cold, condemning tone. “It means that you aren’t doing a very good job.”

“I-” I’d like to see you do better, Denji stops himself from saying.

“I’m doing my best,” he settles on, the words numb and tired.

Aki stops. They’re less than three steps away from the kitchen, but the kid’s gone stock still, staring up at Denji in regret and mourning. The scopes of his eyes whirl frantically as he takes in the features of his face. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I don’t mean-”

Oh, fuck no.

“It’s fine!” Denji rushes to exclaim. “You didn’t hurt my feelings or anything. I’m just thinking about some other shit.”

Aki frowns. “What sort of shit?” he asks, tone tinged with unconvinced wariness.

“Stupid shit.” A pause. “Chemistry homework.”

Somehow, Aki seems to accept this explanation. He gives a nod before setting off toward the kitchen. There, he takes one look at Kishibe, currently rifling through the cupboards, before scurrying over to wrap his arms around the old man’s waist and bury his face in his stomach.

Kishibe slowly sets down the cereal box he’s holding and rubs the top of Aki’s head. “Heard you had an exciting weekend,” he says.

Aki shakes his head. “It was boring.”

He can’t even make the lie sound convincing. Kisihibe shoots a look at Denji, who can’t manage to do anything more than grimace. He lets it go with a sigh, giving Aki a pat on the back before detangling himself from him with a comment about breakfast.

Denji takes that as his cue to leave. He turns back into the hallway and walks into the other bedroom, where the girls are still contorted into their spine-crushing cuddle pile. Most of the dogs have gone back to sleep, those who are still awake being too caught up in morning laziness to bother being rambunctious. He finds himself hoping that they stay that way as he crouches down to shake Power’s shoulder.

She sits up to stare at him with an expression of dull grogginess. “What?”

“Kishibe’s here,” Denji says.

“So?”

“Why don’t you go sit with him and Aki in the kitchen?”

Power squints at him, snorts, and moves to lay back down. Denji catches her shoulder before it can hit the futon.

“He’ll feed you,” he tries.

Power stares up at him, completely limp as she lays there in his arms. The tangled mass that is her hair only serves to amplify the blankness of her expression. Even so, he’s pretty sure that she’s about to argue just because she’s Power. When she stands up with an aggrieved groan, he considers it nothing less than a small miracle.

“Thank you!” he calls after her.

“The old man better have something good,” Power mutters as she disappears out the door.

Denji smiles. Then he looks back down to find that one of Nayuta’s eyes has cracked open.

“Why’d you send Powy away?” she grumbles.

“‘Cause I need to talk to you.”

Nayuta sits up to look at him in resigned dread. Like she did something wrong, or she thinks that he thinks she did something wrong. At the very least, it isn’t the look of a kid who thinks that anything good is going to happen. The sight sends a tendril of noxious guilt curling in his stomach. He deals with it by promising himself that he’s going to find a way to make it up to her today.

“You remember that you’re coming to school with me today, right?” Denji cheerfully asks.

“Oh,” Nayuta says. “We’re still doing that?”

Denji has to fight to keep his smile from slipping. “Yeah! Why wouldn’t I?”

Nayuta shrugs. “I was starting to think you might be dropping out or something.” She pauses, pursing her lips into a thin white line as something hard flashes in her eyes. “You shouldn’t drop out,” she clarifies in a voice hard enough that it’s almost a command. “I don’t wanna watch you do something stupid like ruin your life. But… Three of us is a lot, and…” The fight drains out of her as she looks off to the side.

Denji doesn’t know how to describe what’s going on with his insides at that moment. There’s a pang of anxiety at the thought of having to drop out, concern that Nayuta has caught on to that possibility, and then the complex, painful, affectionate concoction of a reaction that comes from the fact that she cares. He doesn’t know that he can work through any of them right now, so he pushes them aside and brightly says, “I’m not droppin’ out. That’s why I’m bringing you with me - I need to get to class come hell or high water.”

Nayuta nods, determination flashing across her expression. “Your day will be much better with me there.”

“Right…” Denji falters. “Nayuta, you’re gonna behave, right? Like, you know how to act in a school, right?”

Nayuta sniffs. “Duh,” she says, audibly offended that he’d even ask. “I would never cause you problems.”

*

"Put your hand down,” Denji hisses.

“Why!?” Nayuta hisses back. “I know the answer!”

“Yeah, but he’s not gonna call on you.”

“Why!?”

“‘Cause you aren’t a student.”

“So!? I know the answer, so he should call on me!” Nayuta’s voice rises on her final words, drawing the unimpressed gaze of Denji’s teacher. Nayuta responds by sitting up a little straighter and trying to stretch her hand even higher into the air. Mr. Shinohara peers at her for a few seconds before looking at Denji.

Denji offers him a shaky, apologetic grin.

Mr. Shinohara sighs and turns his attention back to Nayuta.

Denji slouches down in his chair.

“I’m sure that you are a very smart girl,” Mr. Shinohara begins. “I will be happy to call on you if you are a student here some day. However, I’m afraid that calling on you now would be depriving Denji and his classmates of their opportunity to learn. You wouldn’t want that, would you?”

Nayuta slowly lowers her hand. “I guess,” she mutters in a tone that says that she doesn’t understand or agree at all.

Mr. Shinohara grins like it was a whole-hearted and eager agreement. “Excellent. Now then…”

He returns to his lesson as if he was never interrupted. The next time he asks a question, Nayuta twitches, but doesn’t raise her hand.

Three questions later, she leans over to whisper, “Denji?”

“Yeah?” he whispers back.

“It shouldn’t matter that I’m not a student, I know the answers.”

“Yeah, but-”

“The other students can learn from me. Your teacher is stupid.”

Raw panic shoots through Denji as he shoots a frantic look at the front of the room. A few heads have turned his and Nayuta’s way, but Mr. Shinohara looks completely oblivious, absorbed in scrawling a lesson out on the whiteboard.

Denji barely bites back a sigh of relief. Turning back to face Nayuta, he sternly whispers, “You think a lotta people are stupid.”

Nayuta scowls. “Because they are.”

“Maybe compared to you, but-” But he can’t give her a talking to in the middle of history class. “-You’ve gotta keep that to yourself while you’re here, alright?”

“Fine,” Nayuta angrily huffs.

She’s quiet for the rest of the class.

*

The next “incident” occurs in the passing time between first and second period. In theory, that shouldn’t be enough time for any sort of incident to happen. It’s only five minutes. All that Denji needs to do is walk Nayuta from his first class to his second one. The classes are only two hallways apart, for fuck’s sake; everything should be fine.

But Nayuta is a very unique little girl with a way of making things happen.

More importantly, Yoshida is a nosy little bastard who doesn’t know how to turn his head and mind his own business where Denji is concerned.

They’re only a few feet away from their next class when the fucker steps out of the crowd of passing students to stand in front of them. “Denji,” he says in a light tone that isn’t actually light. “I see you’ve brought company again.”

And because there’s no real worming his way out of this without causing a scene, Denji groans, “Yeah. Yoshida, this is-”

“Nayuta,” Yoshida interrupts, looking down at her with a placid smile. “I’ve heard of her.”

Denji’s stomach twists. “Oh. Well, Nayuta, this is-”

“You’re the creepy guy Aki told Power about,” Nayuta cuts in.

Yoshida blinks.

Denji blinks.

Yoshida looks up to stare blankly at Denji.

Denji smiles awkwardly.

“Hayakawa said that about me?” Yoshida asks.

“Power said that he said you’re a weird octopus man who probably doesn’t have any friends,” Nayuta dutifully parrots.

“I see,” Yoshida murmurs, utterly unreadable.

In a half-hearted attempt to save face, Denji says, “I mean, it’s Nayuta saying that Power told her that Aki said something. That’s like, three different layers of kids right there. You probably shouldn’t worry about it too much.”

“But if he has friends, then why is he talking to us?” Nayuta demands.

“Because Denji is my friend,” Yoshida lies. “It’s nice to check on your friends, especially when they’re struggling so much that they keep bringing special children to school.”

Yoshida shoots Denji a meaningful look. It makes his stomach contort uncomfortably, but the sensation is overshadowed by the hot, protective anger that shoots up within him. “It’s not gonna be for long, okay?” he snaps. “Shit’s complicated right now, and I’ve gotta make sure that nothing bad happens while I figure something out.”

Yoshida hums. “I understand. But I think it would be better for you to figure something out sooner rather than later, don’t you?” He briefly glances at Nayuta, who is openly glaring at him by this point. “I’m sure that she and Hayakawa are very well-behaved children, but accidents happen. Wouldn’t you rather be safe than sorry?”

Denji is struck by a wave of relief that Aki isn’t there to hear a member of Public Safety talk about him like some random devil. It’s nullified by the fact that Nayuta is standing right there, not only hearing it, but being treated like it doesn’t matter if she hears it.

“I said I’ll figure it out,” Denji snaps. “Are you gonna let us go to class or not?”

Yoshida smiles placidly. “Of course,” he says. Offering Denji a lazy wave, he says, “Have a nice day,” turns around, and walks away.

Denji waits until he’s out of sight to herd Nayuta into the classroom.

*

Nayuta is quiet throughout second period.

Weird-quiet, not trying-to-behave quiet. Her expression is distant and she keeps fidgeting with her hands and glancing down at her lap. It keeps Denji from paying any attention to the lesson whatsoever. Oh, he tries, but once he’s about halfway through, he decides that how Nayuta’s feeling is way more important than whatever’s being taught anyway.

“You okay?” Denji whispers.

“Yeah,” Nayuta says without looking at him.

“Are you sure?” Denji asks, because he’s sure that she isn’t.

“Of course,” Nayuta huffs, turning to glower at him with a stubbornly set jaw and burning eyes. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Because that was fucking scary, he thinks.

“Because Yoshida was an asshole back there,” he says.

“I don’t care about him,” Nayuta says. “Pay attention to the teacher. I don’t wanna have to listen to you whine if you fail your next test.”

“Alright,” Denji says. He looks forward and pretends to listen to his teacher.

His attention never leaves Nayuta.

*

Passing time between second and third periods goes off without a hitch. Denji isn’t quite sure if Nayuta is putting on a brave face after their hold-up earlier– powerful devil or not, that shit made his spine crawl.

Any evidence of that doesn’t make itself known since Nayuta seems a little more relaxed when they sit down for class. She pays attention when the teacher starts her lesson, but she doesn’t raise her hand or make a fuss about not being called on. Realistically, Denji knows that it might be because English is one of Nayuta’s worst subjects, but he still allows himself to hope that she’s learned something from the first lesson. And if she hasn’t… well, she doesn’t look as upset anymore, and that’s good enough for him.

It’s a good class for a while.

Everything shifts when Mrs. Selkirk’s attention lands on him about halfway through.

“Mr. Hayakawa, do you know what this says?” she asks, pointing at the sentence scrawled out on the blackboard.

Denji pretends that he can’t feel every pair of eyes in the class boring into him and plasters an easy grin across his face. “Are you sure you meant to call on me?” he asks. “I didn’t raise my hand.”

Mrs. Selkirk smiles in a polite way that makes her look like she wants to take a bite out of him. “That’s the point,” she says. “I couldn’t help but notice that you never raise your hand. I feel it’s my duty to make sure that you’re learning something from my class.”

A few people snicker. Nayuta stiffens in the seat beside him. Denji almost tells her not to get worked up, but he knows better than to look away from his teacher’s icy blue eyes. “Sure I’m learning,” he says. “I just ain’t very good at English.”

“Then why don’t you demonstrate what you’re learning?” Selkirk presses.

“He didn’t raise his hand!” Nayuta snaps. “It’s not fair for you to call on him when he didn’t raise his hand!”

Selkirk’s eyes narrow sharply. “I don’t need a child telling me how to run my class.” Turning back to Denji, she coldly continues, “If you cannot keep her under control-”

“She won’t cause any more problems!” Denji exclaims, shooting Nayuta a look that begs her not to cause any more problems.

Nayuta purses her lips and glares up at Selkirk, but ultimately looks down at her desk with a sullen nod.

Denji turns around to offer Selkirk a thumbs up. It is met by an unmoving stare and, after a few heartbeats, a nod. “Good. Now, come up here and read this sentence for us,” she says.

“Uh…” Denji glances at Nayuta, wishing more than anything that he could set a good example for her and put on a good show of book-smarts. Since that isn’t possible, he’ll have to do the next-best thing and make a good example of character or whatever the fuck you call it. Even if it’s going to fucking suck. “I can’t do it,” he admits to Selkirk and the entire class. “There’s been a lot of stuff going on lately and I haven’t been able to do my homework the way I should. I’m sorry.”

Selkirk’s expression doesn’t falter. She reaches a hand out toward the whiteboard and taps a single perfectly-manicured finger against the letters written there. “Then you will come up here and show us everything that you haven’t learned,” she commands.

A fresh round of snickering starts up. Denji bites back the frustration climbing up his throat as he moves to stand up.

Nayuta is faster, shoving her chair back with a shout of, “Leave him alone, you little bitch!”

*

They don’t make it to fourth period.

*

“…Do you understand?”

Denji tries not to grit his teeth together as he forces himself to smile at the principal. “Yeah, no more bringing kids to school. Got it.”

“And Mrs. Selkirk will be expecting a written apology within the next three days if you are to continue taking her class,” the squat old man presses.

Denji loses the fight with his jaw. He still manages not to sound too incredibly pissed when he says, “Right, the apology. No way will I be forgetting that.” Even though writing the damn thing will mean that he’ll have even less time to do homework.

The principal nods. “Good. You are dismissed.”

For a moment, Denji wishes that he had it in him to fight. He wants to do a turnaround and talk about how this is absolute bullshit. He wants to talk about how Selkirk is a heartless witch who probably gets off on public humiliation, because there’s no other explanation for whatever the hell she tried to do right there. He wants to defend Nayuta, ‘cause even if she shouldn’t have said what she said, her heart was in the right place when she said it.

But Nayuta’s waiting for him out in the hall, and he doesn’t want to find out what might happen if he leaves her for too long. He can’t, not without running the risk that Yoshida or some other slimy bastard who knows more than she should deciding that there’s been an accident. Fuck, he doesn’t even know what they consider accidents - will he only try shit if she actually uses her powers? Or does the fact that she’s a devil mean that raising her voice is already too much on its own?

He can’t risk it. So he fights the urge to glare at the useless old man before him, grabs his backpack, and walks out of the office.

Nayuta is still waiting in the bright orange plastic chair that he left her sitting in. She looks a little ashamed when he approaches, which is very ashamed by Nayuta’s standards. Denji supposes that he should be happy about that. Mostly, he’s just pissed that they’re been put in a situation where she’s ashamed and he’s supposed to be happy about it.

“C’mon,” he says, walking past her without pausing. “We’re going home.”

Nayuta jumps out of her chair and races after him. They make it a few yards away from the principal’s office before she quietly, angrily says, “I screwed up.”

Denji hums, looking up at the ceiling. “A little,” he admits. “But I’ve screwed up way worse before.”

“Aren’t you mad at me?”

“A little. Selkirk’s gonna be on my ass for the rest of the year now, and I’m not happy about having to write an apology letter.” He pauses, looking down at Nayuta, who seems to be trying to look anywhere but at him. “But I can’t be too mad.”

Nayuta stops walking. He stops in turn, waiting until she looks in at him and confusedly asks, “Why?”

Denji smiles. “‘Cause I would have done the same thing if someone was treating you or Power or Aki like that.”

Nayuta grins. It starts slow and hesitant, but within seconds it’s grown wide enough to consume her whole face. “The old hag deserved it,” she declares.

Denji allows himself to grin back. “She sure as hell did.” He pauses when they reach the front doors of the highschool, reaching out to hold them open for Nayuta. “And you know what? I think-”

“Denji!” an unexpected voice shouts.

Denji shoots a surprised look down at Nayuta, as if she can offer him some sort of explanation. The befuddled look that she returns to him makes it clear that she absolutely cannot.

“Wait up!” the voice calls.

In theory, Denji knows what he’ll see when he turns around. He knows that voice, and unless some weird ass devil attack is happening, he knows the person it’s connected to. He still can’t believe his eyes when he turns around to find Asa Mitaka racing down the hallway.

“You okay?” he asks when she slows to a stop in front of him. She’s panting pretty heavily - just how fast did she run? Where did she run from? Why did she run? You generally only run across the school for people you care about, and he’s pretty damn sure that she doesn’t care about him.

Maybe this is a devil attack after all.

“I’m fine,” Asa gasps. It would be more convincing if she weren’t currently doubled over with her hands resting on her thighs. But to her credit, she only stays like that for a little while before straighting up, clearing her throat, and taking on a serious, slightly concerned expression.

Denji isn’t sure he likes that expression.

He likes it even less when Asa says, “I heard about what happened in your English class.”

“Fuuuuuuck,” Denji groans, tilting his head back to stare dully up at the ceiling. “People are already gossiping about that?”

“Mrs. Selkirk is.”

“Fuck her,” Nayuta mutters.

“Stop that,” Denji says, looking down to hit her with the most serious look that he can muster when his head is filled with all sorts of gook. “I don’t need you and Aki cursing up a storm.”

Nayuta wrinkles her nose. “I’m older than him. I should be able to swear more.”

“That’s-” Not an argument that Aki will accept, especially if Nayuta decides to tell him that he’s younger to his face. They haven’t actually talked about it, but he’s been getting the sense that Aki isn’t super happy about being a little kid. Having someone point out that he’s the youngest probably isn’t something that will go over well.

Aki isn’t here right now though, which means that there’s still time for him and Nayuta to have this talk. There’s time for him to find a chance to talk to her when Asa isn’t standing right there. ‘Cause Asa’s still standing right there, and she probably wants something, so he should probably take care of that first.

“Did you want to ask about the lesson?” Denji asks, biting back a sigh. “‘Cause yeah, what you heard happened, and I’m not gonna give Nayuta shit for it.”

Asa opens her mouth, hesitates, and looks down at the girl by Denji’s side. “Nayuta,” she says, “You’re Aki’s big sister?”

Something heavy flashes behind Nayuta’s eyes. She buries it beneath a scowl before Denji can stand a chance at figuring out what the fuck it is. “Aki is not my brother.” She looks up at Denji, grabs his hand, and tugs impatiently. “Can we go? I don’t want us to stand around talking to this girl.”

Asa purses her lips.

Denji flashes her an awkward grin and tries to take comfort in the knowledge that she probably already hates him anyway. “Sorry,” he says. “We-”

“It’s fine,” Asa interrupts. “I just wanted to give you this.”

She shoves a scrap of paper into his chest. Denji grabs and looks at it on impulse. Then he finds himself staring, because there are numbers on the paper, and they look like a phone number, but that can’t be right, ‘cause-

“Call me if you need anything,” Asa says.

Denji stares. And stares. Then suddenly, he’s blurting out, “But I said I couldn’t date you!”

Asa makes a disgusted face. “Not like that. I wanted to…” She trails off as she looks at Nayuta, who is glaring at her outright at this point. It takes a moment for her to regain herself, but her voice is firm when she says, “Call me if you need help with the children.”

“Oh,” Denji says, mostly because his head has gone too empty to think of anything else.

Asa looks like she wants to say something more.

She walks away without another word.

Chapter Text

Denji wakes up to the sound of kids getting into shit. That in itself isn’t a surprise - kids are always getting into shit somewhere around his apartment these days. It’s become the constant chaotic backdrop of his life. However, waking up to it feels like a bucket of cold water has been dumped on him.

Denji is moving before he even has time to fully register the situation. He sits up and looks down at the futon next to him, where Aki should be. Except there is no Aki, just empty blankets and a growing sense of dread.

It’s not just normal child chatter that he’s hearing, it’s the fucking television.

Denji scrambles up so fast that he gets caught in the blankets. He freezes halfway to standing up, a tangle of purple sheets wrapped around his legs. A glance out of the window reveals that it’s the early morning, not the middle of the night, but it still does nothing to reassure him.

His impending heart attack grows closer when he hears a door open and close before he can disentangle himself. He removes himself from the blankets in a frantic blur of movement, but by the time he turns the doorknob, it’s too late. Denji pokes his head out just in time to see Nayuta disappear down the hallway.

“Fuck,” Denji hisses. He goes racing after Nayuta, but is too slow to make even a lick of difference. When he reaches the end of the hallway, she’s already made her way towards the living room. Aki is right where his gut told he’d be; laid against the cushions of the couch, staring at the screen.

Denji freezes. He doesn’t know why he freezes. Aki and Nayuta have never expressed anything but abject hatred for each other, and that was with him standing right there. He’s been driving himself insane over school in an attempt to avoid having to leave them alone together. By all accounts, he should be jumping to keep them from interacting.

But there’s something about whatever’s happening that makes him pause. He doesn’t know exactly what it is. Maybe it’s the slow, tentative way that Nayuta pads in the living room, careful in a way that he almost never sees from that brash little girl. Maybe it’s the way Aki tears his eyes away from the television to glare at her with as much venom as ever, but doesn’t say anything quite yet. Maybe it’s some completely indescribable thing lingering in the air. Whatever it is, it grabs hold of Denji’s panic and whispers, Wait.

So he decides to give the kids a chance before he goes rushing in. He knows that he might be making the wrong decision. His heart is racing, his palms are sweaty, and it feels like the floor might fall out from beneath him. But he still presses himself against the wall of the hallway, head peeking out just enough to observe the clusterfuck about to unfold, and waits.

“Aki,” Nayuta calls. She doesn’t sound gentle - she never sounds gentle - but she isn’t harsh or demanding either. She’s trying. That alone is enough to tell Denji that even if this goes sideways and he has to intervene, he’s probably going to be proud of her by the end of it.

“Control Devil. What do you want?” Aki growls.

He doesn’t sound friendly in the same way that a growling dog ‘doesn’t sound friendly’. He sounds like he’s already an inch away from shouting anything that will get her to leave him alone. The scopes in his eyes slowly spin and focus in on Nayuta, lips press into a thin white line, and his hands are trembling. It’s enough that Denji knows he should probably intervene immediately, but… he hasn’t done anything yet. Aki hasn’t done anything yet, Nayuta is making an effort, and it’s a really damn low bar, but Denji’s going to hold onto it on the off chance that this won’t end in disaster.

“What are you watching?” Nayuta asks.

Aki’s head flinches toward the television ever so slightly, but his eyes remain locked on Nayuta as he snaps, “None of your business!”

Nayuta makes a noise of offended frustration. Face screwing up in the beginnings of a glare, she grinds out, “You’re-”

Aki’s shoulders tense. The slow spinning of his eyes speeds up until they look like tiny black propellers working in a sea of blue. The fingers of one of his hands tightens around his knee.

Nayuta cuts herself off. She clenches her jaw. Denji can see her throat working as she swallows. Finally, with what sounds like agonizing effort, she grits out an almost polite, “Can I sit with you?”

Aki’s fury falters and contorts into blatant confusion. Denji would be relieved if he wasn’t so scared that he is going to shut her down and refuse outright. Mostly, though, he is achingly, foolishly, desperately hopeful.

That hope flares up into something terrifying when Aki, aghast, asks, “Why?”

Nayuta looks at him like he’s stupid.

Denji screams internally.

In the space of a second, Nayuta fights the expression back in favor of one that is merely annoyed. It’s not enough to keep Aki’s glare from returning full-force, but it’s something.

“There’s only one couch, and I live here too,” Nayuta says.

Aki scoffs. “Of course. You think everything belongs to you.”

“I didn’t say that!” Nayuta exclaims. “I just-” One of her hands clenches into a fist. Denji wants to rush forward and tell her that it’s okay, that she’s doing great, but he doesn’t dare move. “I just want to watch TV with you.”

Again, Aki asks, “Why?” This time, it sounds even more like an accusation.

Worse. He’s trying to hide it, but there’s an edge of fear beneath that distrust. If it sticks around, it’s only a matter of time until that fear turns into the sort of window that will permanently end the potential for him and Nayuta to make amends.

It’s understandable. It’s realistic. Denji knows that he can’t expect too much from a kid who’s been through what he has, especially considering that he wasn’t the most patient person even as an adult. It doesn’t stop him from whispering, “C’mon,” because he knows that Aki can do better than this.

Nayuta plants her hands on her hips. “We can’t avoid each other forever.”

Aki looks at Nayuta in raw, unfiltered disgust. It’s a look that brings Denji back to their first meeting, except Aki never looked at Denji that badly, even at the heights of his devil-hating. Turning back to the television, Aki flatly says, “Yes, we can.”

And it is then that Denji realizes that no, maybe Aki can’t do better than this. As much as Denji would like to believe he can, the reality is that Aki is a child struggling with memories that could bring an adult to their knees. He still hasn’t come to terms with the way everything ended, hasn’t yet accepted himself as a devil, and here Denji is, wanting him to make nice with the reincarnation of the devil who destroyed them. All of this and he’s the youngest of the children.

There’s only one way that the situation between him and Nayuta can get any better. No matter how much Denji wants things to improve, no matter how hard he tries, there’s only one person with any real ability to change things.

Nayuta’s remaining open hand clenches into a fist as well. Her hypnotic amber eyes narrow into a furious glare. Her nostrils flare as her breathing grows heavy and furious.

Aki glances at her out of the corner of his eyes.

Please, Denji thinks. I know you can do it. Please, Nayuta, prove him wrong.

Painstakingly, Nayuta’s hands relax. She swallows heavily and looks down at the floor. Denji pulls back just in time to avoid her spotting him when she looks back at the hallway. He doesn’t need to look to know that she’s hesitating as she struggles with something.

A few laborious seconds pass. Denji peeks out again to see that Nayuta has returned to staring at Aki, who is actively refusing to look at her.

Nayuta’s hands are trembling. Denji has to force himself to stay still.

You aren’t Makima. Show him that, he thinks, one step away from a prayer.

“…I hurt you really badly, didn’t I?” Nayuta asks.

Aki looks at Nayuta with a hard, heavy gaze. It would speak of abject hatred if not for the hint of hesitation and confusion that’s managed to sneak in.

Denji’s breath stalls.

“What do you mean?” Aki asks after a moment.

Nayuta looks him in the eyes. Her voice is fraught, but she isn’t angry. She isn’t accusing. She doesn’t quite hit the mark, but it sounds for all the world like she’s trying to be understanding. “You hate me because I’m the Control Devil. You said I was a monster. I did something horrible to you, didn’t I? Something that I can’t remember.”

Anger flashes across Aki’s face. He opens his mouth, venom resting too clearly on the tip of his tongue. Then, just as Denji is preparing to move, he hesitates. He looks at Nayuta for a long second, the rage slowly bleeding from his features, before turning back to the television.

“What did I do?” Nayuta asks.

“...I don’t gotta tell you,” Aki grumbles, gaze still stubbornly fixated on the television. “You’re the Control Devil. You’ve ruined so many lives, you can’t even remember. You’re only here to get what you want from Denji. Now butt out.”

With those words, Denji feels like he’s going to be sick. He doesn’t know what to do about it, and doesn’t think that he’s going to know anytime soon.

“Yes, it does!” Nayuta shouts, voice rising loud enough that she might have been at risk of waking Power if she weren’t Power and thus able to sleep through anything. “I’m not going to hate myself for something I don’t remember, and you don’t get to hate me for it if you won’t tell me what I did!”

Aki snorts. “You’re just saying that because you’re evil and stupid.”

“I won’t believe you unless you tell me what I did!”

“I don’t care. Leave me alone.” Aki pauses, turning a venomous glare on Nayuta. “Leave us all alone before you hurt someone again.”

Nayuta glares right back. “Only if you tell me what I did the first time.”

Aki falters. For a split second, alarm flashes across his face, a kid with his hand caught in the cookie jar. He pushes it down to imperiously declare, “I don’t need to do that.”

Frustration breaks through the fury on Nayuta’s face. “I can’t apologize if you won’t tell me what I did!” she snaps.

Aki’s eyes go wide, the spinning scopes coming to a sudden halt, as raw bewilderment flashes across his features. “What!?” he exclaims.

Nayuta hesitates. She looks off to the side, her voice the kind of haughty that only happens when you’re trying to hide embarrassment, and says, “I want to apologize for hurting you. But I can’t do it properly if you won’t tell me what I did.”

“…Oh.” Aki doesn’t sound angry anymore. He looks like he wants to be angry, but he’s contending with too much surprise and confusion to make any real use of the feeling.

He’s trying and failing not to sound fragile as he asks, “Why do you want to apologize?”

With that, Nayuta’s looking at Aki like he’s stupid again. This time, he doesn’t seem to mind.

“Because I hurt you,” she says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “I don’t want you to be a broken mess, and I don’t want Denji and Power to be upset because of it.” She lets out a soft, exasperated huff before muttering, “I don’t want to have to keep living with some kid who hates me because of something I don’t remember.”

There is no describing the facial journey that Aki goes on, only that every single part of it is sad. That’s to be expected. What Denji doesn’t expect is the very last feeling to make itself known: guilt. It shows itself for a few short seconds before Aki looks down and obscures his expression from view.

“I don’t want Denji to be upset either,” he mutters.

Nayuta plants her hands on her hips with a huff. “Us fighting all the time is upsetting him, you dummy.”

Aki tries to glare at her again, but his heart isn’t in it. It’s all too apparent that her confession has taken the wind out of his sails in a way that he doesn’t know how to deal with.

Ultimately, all he can do is balefully glower as she continues, “We can stop hurting him if we stop fighting. Which means you need to tell me what I did.”

Aki looks away. He swallows. Finally, in a voice so low that Denji can barely hear, he murmurs, “I don’t remember.”

Nayuta blinks. “Huh?”

“What?” Denji whispers.

“I don’t remember what you did,” Aki says, laboriously turning back to Nayuta. “I just had a feeling that the Control Devil was bad. I…” He swallows. There’s an agonized look on his face, and Denji knows without a doubt that what he says next is unspeakably hard for him. “I just know that you did something horrible, and I should hate you for it.”

To say that Nayuta is stunned is an understatement. For a horrible moment, Denji’s worried that Aki’s admission will make her angry again. At first, it looks like it will. Before the insults and rage can manifest, she looks at Aki - really looks at him, his slight, trembling form, the uncertainty written across his features - and lets out a long, tired breath.

And, because she’s ultimately still Nayuta, she breathes, “That’s so stupid.”

Defensiveness seizes control of Aki in a flash. “I didn’t ask you!” he snaps.

Nayuta opens her mouth.

She doesn’t get the chance to say anything. Aki’s voice is rising into a furious, broken shout as he continues, “I didn’t ask for any of this! I don’t want to be different, I didn’t want to come back like you, I don’t-”

The first tears start streaming down Aki’s face. Nayuta stumbles back as he wipes at them, her eyes wide with realization, disbelief, or perhaps a terrible combination of both.

“Why won’t you just leave me alone?” Aki croaks.

The room goes quiet. Denji is struck with the urge to come out of his hiding place and pull the kids into the tightest hug of his life. He wants to tell them how much he loves them, how much he loves both of them, how incredible it is that they even exist. He wants to tell Nayuta how good she’s doing and tell Aki that he’s just fine the way he is now. She needs to know that she has already proven that she will be so much better than Makima ever had the chance to be. He needs to know that he isn’t and will never be evil or a monster or whatever shit he’s thinking.

But it isn’t his moment to interrupt. So he stands there, watching with bated breath as Nayuta and Aki sit in deafening silence.

It’s broken by Nayuta saying, “You’re the Gun Devil, right? You were human, but you came back as the devil who killed millions of people all around the world. Whatever I did, you definitely did something just as bad. Probably even worse.”

Something in Aki shatters. The tearful sheen in his eyes seems to shine a little brighter as he slumps back against the couch, lips parted ever so slightly. He looks down at his hands, and whatever he’s seeing, Denji knows that it isn’t good.

Before he can collapse in on himself completely, Nayuta continues, “But– you don’t see me blaming you for it. You aren’t the same Gun Devil who did all that stuff. I know you wouldn’t blow a bunch of people up, and you wouldn’t hurt Denji because you love him. I wouldn’t have let him bring you home if I thought you would.”

Tears are running down Aki’s cheeks when he looks back up at Nayuta. He opens his mouth, but no words come out.

She continues to do all the speaking for him. Walking over to the couch, she asks, “We’re the same. I love Denji just as much as you do. So why do you hate me for something that neither of us can remember? It’s not fair. I didn’t-” Nayuta moves like she might be about to reach out to Aki. He flinches away from her touch, and she slowly lowers her arm back to her side. “I’m sorry you’re struggling,” she says, softer than before. “But it’s not my fault that you’re like this. You don’t get to take it out on me.”

Denji’s heart feels like it could burst with how proud he is of Nayuta. At the same time, he can feel it sinking into his stomach. In that instant, he realizes something with ferocious clarity. Nayuta and Aki can never find out who turned him into the Gun Devil.

Aki looks away again, raising an arm to scrub at his face. “I’m not struggling,” he mutters.

“Then prove it. Let me watch TV with you,” Nayuta demands.

Aki hesitates.

Impatience flashes across Nayuta’s face. “I’m not going to start hating myself like you, and we’re hurting Denji by hating each other. If you stop being a baby and try to get along with me, I’ll try to be nicer to you.”

“I’m not a baby,” Aki mutters.

He scoots over to make room for Nayuta.

Denji doesn’t drop to his knees in relief, but it’s close.

“What did I miss?” Nayuta asks, like they haven’t just endured a whole series of breakdowns.

“It’s just a fox documentary,” Aki murmurs dully, tear tracks drying on his face. Denji wants to step forward and reassure him, but he can’t help but feel that doing so will cause more harm than good by this point. Which also probably means that he can never admit to having seen everything he’s seen tonight.

He’ll just have to keep treating Aki the way he has been, he supposes. If Aki doesn’t have anymore breakdowns, great. If something like this happens again… well, he’ll deal with it while it happens.

Meanwhile, Nayuta presses, “And? What did you learn about foxes?”

Aki frowns at her. “I don’t know. I was only watching for a little while before you distracted me.”

“Good! Then you don’t know more than me.” Nayuta shoots Aki a smug smile before settling in to watch the television.

Aki eyes her warily for a little while longer before turning toward the television. They don’t show any sign of revving their conversation back up.

Denji watches for about ten more minutes anyway. When tiredness starts to set back in, he shuffles back to the bedroom.

They’ll be fine on their own until morning.

Chapter Text

Aki and Nayuta no longer want to murder each other. Logically, Denji knows that’s a really fucking low bar to celebrate crossing, but after the past several weeks, it feels something like winning the lottery. Consequently, he feels tentatively optimistic when he goes to school that Monday.

That’s his first mistake.

The school day itself isn’t bad. It’s actually the easiest one that he’s had in a long time. He didn’t have to call Kishibe to watch the kids while he’s away. Between that and not having to worry that someone will get shot, controlled, or otherwise physically or mentally maimed if he looks away for too long, he spends the day feeling like a massive weight has been lifted from his shoulders.

That weight comes crashing back down when someone grabs his arm while he’s walking out of the building. Denji knows that nothing good is coming the second familiar cold fingers wrap around his wrist. It’s a psychic signal sent through skin-to-skin communication or some shit. However, his heart doesn’t really plummet until he turns around to see Yoshida’s smile. That smile reminds him that he still has a million things to worry about. Yoshida hasn’t even said a word and Denji’s already tempted to tell him to fuck off.

The chill crawling up his spine whispers a warning in his ear: be polite. He doesn’t know what’s on the line yet, but there’s gotta be something, and that something will only get worse if he comes out guns blazing. So he grits his teeth, forces a smile across his face, and tries to sound casual as he asks, “What’s up?”

“I’ve been wanting to talk to you,” Yoshida says, already doing a way better job of this ‘polite’ thing than Denji. It does nothing to put him at ease. “Do you have a moment?”

“We’re talking now,” Denji points out.

“I was thinking we should go somewhere more private.” Yoshida casts a meaningful glance around the hallway, where students pass them by, totally oblivious to whatever fuckery is about to go down.

Denji frowns. “I’m not taking you to my apartment.”

Yoshida lets go of his wrist with a chuckle. Denji doesn’t see what’s so funny.

“I didn’t think you would,” Yoshida says. “I was thinking we could meet at the cafe we visited last time.”

Denji hesitates. Talking in the hallway is bad enough, going to a cafe means that the kids will be alone for a while. Aki and Nayuta may have earned a little trust, but-

“It will be my treat,” Yoshida adds.

-The less money Denji spends on feeding himself, the more he can spend on getting them something decent. Which, if they really do manage to make it through the entire day without an incident, they definitely will have earned.

“Fine,” Denji sighs. He gestures toward the door lamely and allows his head to roll over to the side. He probably isn’t doing a very good job of being polite, but oh fucking well. He’s making more of an effort than he usually would, and if Yoshida’s watching him as much as he’s starting to feel like he is, he should appreciate that for what it is.

He doesn’t say anything, but Denji can see the pleased glint in his eyes. It’s the look of a man who knows that he’s already won. It’s a look that would already have him gearing up for a fight if not for the cold glint lingering in the back of Yoshida’s that says to stay down.

Yoshida isn’t anything like Makima. That much Denji is sure of. He barely knows anything about the guy, but he knows that he could never be that competent, collected, controlled, smart, or dangerous no matter how hard he tried.

Denji still feels like a dog on a leash as he follows him to the cafe. It makes him wish that he were like Makima. Then, at least, he’d have an excuse. Then he wouldn’t feel so stupid about feeling so on edge without even knowing why.

Beyond the thing that he doesn’t want to think about, that is.

But Yoshida wouldn’t really go there, would he? Denji will kill him if he crosses that line. He has to know that he’d kill him if he actually did anything to them.

The thoughts swirl around Denji’s head for the entire walk to the cafe, caught in that horrible purgatory of something that you’re trying to ignore and something that you can’t get out of your head no matter how hard you try. By the time they reach their destination, he can’t even bring himself to be excited by the promise of free food.

That doesn’t stop him from landing Yoshida with an even bigger bill than last time. Denji knows there’s no way in hell that he’ll be able to eat it all, but that’s kinda the point. He can take all of the leftovers back for the kids. That way, he’ll be able to give them a treat for learning not to hate each other and keep saving money.

It’s a good plan. He would feel better about it if Yoshida showed any sign of agitation about the bill. Instead, he just sits there, smiling in a way that makes Denji suspect that he might not get the chance to eat anything at all.

“How have you been?” Yoshida asks when their waitress leaves.

Denji frowns in a way that says that he knows Yoshida doesn’t really care about how he’s doing. He knows that Yoshida catches it, too, but he doesn’t acknowledge it, so he swallows down the bile in his throat and resolves himself to keep going with whatever game they’re playing.

“Fine,” he says. “Busy with the kids. You know.”

Yoshida hums, nodding. “I noticed.”

Denji tenses up. “Did you?”

Yoshida’s smile grows a tiny bit wider. “I’ve noticed that it’s been a long time since anyone’s seen Chainsaw Man.”

Denji’s breath catches in his throat. “It… has?” he asks, racking his mind for the last time he went devil hunting and realizing that he can’t remember.

“Two months,” Yoshida provides.

Two months. The words rattle around in Denji’s mind, easy to understand yet impossible to comprehend. He feels his jaw go slack as he tries to wrap his head around what it means. He knows that he’s been slacking at Chainsaw Man lately, but-

“I think this is a good thing,” Yoshida adds after a moment.

Denji frowns, brow furrowing because no, that can’t be right. Chainsaw Man is good, Chainsaw Man is beloved, Chainsaw Man is a hero. Chainsaw Man is the only part of Denji that’s actually worth anything! It can’t be a good thing that he’s been missing! His frown turns into a scowl, and that scowl translates into a little bite in his voice when he says, “Don’t say shit like that. You’ll be seeing plenty more of Chainsaw Man soon.”

Yoshida hums. “I think it would be better if I didn’t,” he says. “After all, don’t you have a lot on your plate right now? Your children would be far better off if you set the chainsaws down and focused on them.”

Denji’s skin feels ice cold. His heart is sinking somewhere deep into his stomach. He can feel his breath start to shift into short, shaking breaths as his lungs threaten to seize. It is too early to panic, yet the sirens screaming in his head tell him exactly where this is going and that there is no avoiding it. The look in Yoshida’s eyes says that there is no fighting it.

But Chainsaw Man fights. Chainsaw Man is a hero. If he isn’t Chainsaw Man, then he’s nothing, and Yoshida hasn’t said anything really bad yet, so there’s nothing stopping him from saying-

“The kids will be fine.” Denji sits up a little straighter and puts on a firm, confident, adult voice. Like someone who has their various situations under control and knows what they’re doing. Someone like Kishibe. Someone like Makima. “I’ve had to spend a lot of time with them ‘cause they weren’t getting along, but we’re getting that under control now. I should be able to leave them alone for long enough to take care of Chainsaw Man stuff.”

Yoshida’s head tilts to the side. “How do you know that it’s safe to leave them alone?”

Denji’s heart stops. Fury and fear explode like fireworks inside him even as his body freezes up, eyes locked on the Public Safety agent sitting in front of him. Denji curses at himself, big fucking mouth of his– this guy didn’t need to know squat. He’s still smiling like nothing’s wrong. Yoshida is smiling like nothing’s wrong, and from his perspective, maybe it isn’t. Denji doesn’t know him well enough to be able to tell. But he did know that this was coming. He knew, but he couldn’t think of a way out of it, so he just went along with it and tried to hope that it wasn’t. Yoshida is sitting there and smiling and he still doesn’t want to believe that it’s actually happening, but-

“They’re still a trio of extremely dangerous devils,” Yoshida continues. “They will need a lot of close care and attention to make sure that there aren’t any incidents. Normally, they would have been taken into custody or otherwise neutralized by now, but my organization was willing to make an exception because they’re in your custody. However, if you are going to be allowed to keep them, we require some compromise on your end. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

Denji can’t breathe. He can’t think. He wants to cut Yoshida’s head off and run back home to the kids, but he can’t make his body move to do either. In the end, all that he does is stare.

Yoshida stares back until he concludes that he isn’t getting a response. Then, with a little more gravity than if he were discussing the weather, he says, “If you turn into Chainsaw Man again, Nayuta, Hayakawa, and Power’s lives will be forfeit.”

“I could kill you,” Denji says. The words are numb and heavy on his tongue, but it’s true. He could. Denji has the Chainsaw Devil for a heart and Yoshida is just some slippery human. He could kill him in an instant if he wanted to. Kishibe said he could kill him if he threatened the kids. He should be doing something right now.

Except-

“The children would still die,” Yoshida says. “You could kill me easily enough, but you’d have to destroy the entirety of Public Safety if you wanted to keep them safe afterwards. I don’t think that even Chainsaw Man could manage that one.”

A waitress arrives with a tray piled high with goodies. Denji barely notices, too busy trying and failing to find a way to kick-start his brain back into functionality. Yoshida addresses her instead, offering a polite thanks and asking if he can pay the bill immediately. Denji watches dully as he whips out a shiny plastic card and pays the enormous bill without breaking a sweat. Within a few minutes, the waitress has scurried off again, leaving just the two of them and a pile of sweets that Denji won’t be able to touch any time soon.

Yoshida looks at Denji with something that might be pity. Maybe. Right then, he isn’t willing to assume that something like Yoshida is capable of a feeling like that. “Don’t take it personally,” he says. “We’re trying to look out for everyone’s greater good, yours included. Besides, you’re happy to have Hayakawa and the Blood Devil back, right? You’ll get to spend more time with them this way. I thought that you would’ve wanted to prioritize that over being Chainsaw Man anyway.” Yoshida’s hand glides over, pinching the lip of the dish before sliding it towards Denji. There's a slight twitch at the corners of his mouth, “Everybody wins.”

There are no words to describe the sheer venom that slides across Denji’s face as he glares at Yoshida. “Don’t talk like you know us,” he growls, but he thinks that what he means to say might be ‘don’t talk like you care about them’.

Yoshida’s smile finally disappears. Good. Denji’s starting to be able to move again and he isn’t sure that he’d be able to keep himself from tearing it off if it didn’t.

“I’ll leave you be if you don’t want to talk anymore,” Yoshida offers.

“I don’t,” Denji growls.

“I understand.”

Yoshida stands to leave.

On his way out of the cafe, he turns his head back to say, “They won’t be young forever. You should enjoy this time while you have it.”

He’s out the door before Denji can finish shouting for him to fuck off.

Denji has no reason to stick around the cafe with Yoshida gone. He sits there anyway, appetite too dead for him to even consider trying to eat, head too fucked up for him to go home to the kids. A solid half hour passes before he pulls himself together enough to call a waitress over and ask for boxes for his ill-gotten goodies. He has enough that he ends up needing three bags to carry his mountain of boxes. The knowledge that he must have done some real damage to Yoshida’s wallet gives him a little bit of satisfaction, but not nearly enough to actually make him feel better.

He doesn’t think that he’s going to be feeling anything but abysmally shitty for a long time.

Denji is Chainsaw Man. At the end of the day, that’s all he is. It’s the only part of him that’s really worth anything, the only part of him that anyone cares about, the only part of him that deserves- the only part of him that’s deserving. And now the assholes pulling Yoshida’s strings want to strip that away and leave… what, some broke jackass who’ll probably never get a girlfriend? A runaway dog that no one wants to own, a pathetic nobody that no one will ever love? He could be a hero. He was trying to be a hero, everything would be better if he was a hero. Now they’re saying that they want him to live as that instead?

Denji wants to fight it. He wants to hunt Yoshida and spit in his face and say that he can take Chainsaw Man from him over his dead body. Hell, it would probably be better to be dead than what he is without Chainsaw Man. At least a dead man wouldn’t have to bear the weight of Denji’s mistakes.

But it won’t be him who dies if he refuses to let Chainsaw Man go. It will be Nayuta and Power and Aki. The very thought of public safety hunting them down like dogs in the street is unbearable. They need him in a way that no one else does. He needs them, because if something happens to them, if he fails them, if he loses them again…

If Denji isn’t Chainsaw Man, then he’s nothing but a pathetic piece of shit. But if anything happens to those kids, then he’ll be no better than he was back in Makima’s apartment, with Aki’s ghost in the back of his mind and Power’s blood on his hands. And this time, there won’t be any coming back from that place.

That doesn’t make it any easier to accept that he’s going to be completely worthless from now on.

It doesn’t matter if he accepts it or not. What matters is that he pulls his shit together, pushes his feelings down, and does a good job of looking functional for the kids. Or a half-decent job, at least. A good enough job that they don’t notice that something is up and start worrying about him. That’s why he pauses outside the apartment door. He sets the bags down on the floor so that he can slap his cheeks a few times, forcing a little bit of color into a face that’s he’s pretty sure is white as a ghost. He blinks until he’s sure that his eyes aren’t all glossy and freaked. He forces a casual-looking smile across his lips. Finally, once he’s as close to looking like a human being as he’s probably going to get, he picks the bags back up and opens the door.

And is promptly reminded that he forgot about the dogs.

Denji spins around to protect the food and wedges himself in the doorway to keep them from getting out. He can feel at least two of them pressing up against him and another pawing at the backs of his legs, a furry tide threatening to sweep him away. “Nayuta!” he calls, craning his neck in an attempt to peer into the apartment. “Put the dogs away!”

His plea is met by pounding footsteps. Power only makes it a few feet into the entryway before she comes to a stop, wrapping her arms around her middle and laughing gleefully. While Nayuta stops to scold her, Aki rushes forward, grabbing onto Creampuff’s collar and attempting to tug him back.

Creampuff turns on the child with a gleeful yip, knocking him down to the floor and ferociously licking his face, tail wagging so quickly that it looks like he could achieve liftoff.

“Get off,” Aki grumbles, trying and failing to push the dog off of him.

“Stop that,” Nayuta scolds, leaving Power to laugh in favor of walking toward the writhing mass of dogs and child. “You’re too small to control them.”

“I am not,” Aki snaps, giving Creampuff one final shove. It fails miserably. The dog sets his paws on Aki’s shoulders, pinning him to the floor, and sits down on his chest.

Nayuta is there a few seconds later, pulling Creampuff off Aki and staring down at him with a raised eyebrow.

“Fuck off,” Aki grumbles as he rises to his feet.

“Hey!” Denji exclaims. “What did we say about cursing!?”

“It wasn’t loud enough for Power to hear,” Aki counters. He’s moving on before Denji can point out that that isn’t the point, gently one of the smaller dogs and easing her off toward the back room.

He manages to make it about three feet before succumbing to the urge to shoot Nayuta a smug look.

“That’s Tiramisu,” she says dismissively, already halfway toward the back with Creampuff. “Any baby could handle her.”

Fury flashes across Aki’s face.

Before they can completely destroy all the progress they’ve made, Denji calls out, “If you can’t put the dogs away without fighting, you don’t get any cake!”

Aki and Nayuta’s heads snap toward him, eyes wide and expressions hilariously urgent. Power stops laughing and starts looking at her siblings like she’ll kill them if they so much as look at each other funny.

It’s amazing how well they start working together after that.

“Cake!” Power shrieks once the dogs are safely put away. “Cake! Where’s the cake!? I demand that you give it to me now!” She races in excited circles around Denji, forcing him to step around her to enter the apartment. It feels like a serious accomplishment to shut the door behind him.

“The cake is hidden, he’s just holding a bunch of bags for fun,” Aki intones with a dryness that no kid his age has any right to be capable of.

Denji shoots him a withering look. “Don’t be a smartass.”

Aki crosses his arms and glowers up at him. It’s the sort of look that makes him feel like he should apologize, except there’s no way in hell that Denji’s going to apologize for trying to keep him from growing into an even more insufferable adult than he was the first time.

In the corner of his eye, Nayuta smirks. Denji rounds on her before she can open her mouth. A couple of bags slide up his arm as he points at her and warns, “And you don’t need to be saying anything about him being a smartass.”

Power stops racing around for long enough to turn to her siblings and delightedly sneer, “Morons.”

Nearly identical looks of outrage flash across Nayuta and Aki’s faces. They catch their expressions mirrored on each other, and suddenly outrage is combined with disgust. Aki opens his mouth and-

“No,” Denji interrupts. “If you start fighting, I’ll eat all the cake myself and make you watch.”

Power screams.

Nayuta whirls around to face him in indignant outrage. “You can’t do that!” she shouts.

“I’m fine without cake,” Aki mutters, crossing his arms over his chest and tilting his chin in the air.

The last display is the only one that Denji chooses to acknowledge. He raises an eyebrow, waggles his bags of treats, and asks, “Are you?”

Aki falters, his already-transparent lie growing even weaker. Denji hits him with a shit-eating grin. He’s met with a glare. It only makes his grin go wider as, for a split second, he’s able to forget about all the other bullshit happening.

Then Power’s wordless wailing grows into a piercing shriek of, “YOU WILL GIVE ME CAKE OR FACE MY WRATH!” and Denji almost drops his bags as he flinches and winces.

“POWER!” Aki shouts back at her, just as loud.

“SHUT UP!” Nayuta adds at the absolute top of her lungs. “NONE OF US ARE GOING TO GET CAKE IF YOU KEEP ACTING LIKE LITTLE KIDS!”

Aki whirls on her, viscerally offended in the way that only a child struggling with his memories of being not a child can be. “YOU’RE A LITTLER KID THAN ME!”

Now it’s Nayuta’s turn to be offended. “YOU’RE THE SIZE OF AN ANT, YOU BLIND DUNDERHEAD!”

“I’M NOT A DUNDERHEAD, YOU-”

“I CAN SHOUT LOUDER THAN YOU!” Power screeches, proving her words the second they leave her mouth.

Aki and Nayuta flinch back in the same instant, turning on her with a dual cry of, “SHUT UP!”

The unfortunate fuck who lives in the apartment beneath them bangs on the ceiling. Denji looks down at the floor as Power puffs herself up. He looks back up, and, just as she goes to open her mouth, he does the only thing that makes sense in these circumstances.

He walks away.

A chorus of dismayed shouts follows him.

Aki is the first to act. “We’ll behave!” he yells, racing after Denji as he makes his way into the kitchen. Looking down at the ridiculous level of seriousness on his face, he has to bite back another grin as the kid continues, “Me and Nayuta haven’t been arguing for real, and Power hasn’t broken anything in days, so-”

Denji stops a few feet away from the fridge. “Let Power have cake?”

“Yeah?” Aki looks at the bags again, scopes rapidly spinning within bright blue eyes that glimmer with absolute yearning, but he does a half-decent job of trying to hide it. “I don’t need cake. Because I’m not a child. But Power will be a nightmare if you don’t give it to her, so…”

Denji’s heart gives a painful thump. He looks back at where the girls are hovering in the doorway. Power definitely didn’t hear it, too busy “whispering” what sounds like a cake-theft plan to Nayuta. Nayuta, on the other hand, is staring right at Aki, brows furrowed and eyes wide.

He can’t tell if it’s a good expression.

God, he hopes it’s a good expression. But even if it isn’t, it’s one of the ever-growing shitload of things that he can’t do a goddamn thing to change and doesn’t really know how to deal with right now.

“…Stop saying that you aren’t a kid,” Denji sighs, turning back to Aki and walking the rest of the way to the refrigerator. “You’re tiny and trying to act like an adult when you can fit in a sock drawer will probably fu- screw up your brain in some shitty way that I won’t be able to fix.”

“But-”

“No. We aren’t doing this right now.” Because no matter how much he loves Aki, all the shit that he’s been dealing with today is fighting its way back to the surface of his mind and bringing a bunch of other problems with it - problems that he knows that he can’t afford to ignore no matter how much he wants to. If he also has to deal with Aki’s age dysmorphia or whatever the fuck it is, he might have a breakdown. And he can’t afford to be having breakdowns right now.

Aki looks put out. He’s also looking up at Denji with curiosity. Worried curiosity. Because he doesn’t want to be pondering that right now, he focuses on being relieved that he doesn’t look hurt.

Denji sets the bags down next to the fridge so that he can open the door. “You’ll all get cake,” he says loud enough for all of the kids to hear. “I just can’t have you being so loud that we get kicked out of the apartment.”

Nayuta sniffs. “It was Power’s fault.”

“Lies! T’was you and Aki who began to screech!”

Denji opens the refrigerator door and begins loading goodies in with a hum. “On second thought, maybe only Aki will get cake.”

The girls immediately shut up.

“I-” Aki cuts himself off, looking somewhere between proud and unhappy. Denji’s only half paying attention to the look, the rest of his mind occupied by how empty their refrigerator is getting. It amuses him enough that he isn’t immediately caught up in stressing out over how he’s going to afford to refill that refrigerator. Feeding himself and Nayuta was one thing, but there’s four of them now, plus animals. And he’s running out of stuff. How in the fuck is he-

Nope. Not thinking about it. Focusing on funny Aki face.

“You?” Denji prompts.

“Why did you buy so much junk food?” Aki asks.

“T’isn’t junk!” Power cries.

“It’s a lot,” Aki insists. “Why would you spend that much on cakes?”

Ah. Great. Mini-adult mode it is. Some sort of strawberry cream cake is the only thing left out of the fridge now. Denji closes the door, picks it up, and offers Aki a smile that comes out as more of a nauseated grimace. When he’s met with a look of openly worried bewilderment, and looks at the girls instead, and- they’re looking at him weirdly too now. Fuck-fucking-tastic.

Denji carries the cake over to the table. He sets it down in the middle, shoots the kids a look that says that they’d better not touch it yet, and starts gathering plates, forks, and a knife.

“Denji?” Nayuta calls. She sounds softer than normal. Hesitant. Worried.

Fuck everything.

“I didn’t pay for it,” he says, acting like nothing’s wrong. ‘Cause as far as the kids are concerned, they need to think that nothing’s wrong. “It was free, so I got as much as I could.”

Denji starts setting the table, praying to God or Santa Claus or whatever the fuck is up there that that’ll be the end of the conversation.

“Why was it free?” Nayuta asks, and Yoshida’s self-assured smile flashes through his mind.

Denji freezes.

“Denji?” Aki softly calls.

Right. Children. Children who he needs to keep alive and fed and happy. Denji swallows heavily and forces himself back into motion. It gets harder to try to act like everything’s normal when he sees that Aki and Nayuta are standing close together, too caught up in looking at him with those awful expressions to mind the proximity, but he tries.

“It was free ‘cause I’m the coolest guy in the world and everyone wants to give me stuff,” he says. “Sit down and don’t throw things or argue while you’re eating, okay? I don’t wanna have to clean the kitchen twice in one week.”

They sit down, but their movements are slow and subdued, like a massive weight has been dropped on their tiny shoulders. It makes Denji feel like shit. The fact that he feels like shit makes him feel even more like shit, ‘cause he doesn’t know how to try any harder here.

When they don’t say anything after he gives them their cake, he feels like he might as well have been shot.

Actually, getting shot didn’t didn’t suck as much as this.

He’s trying to think of something to kickstart the flow of conversation when Power, listlessly poking at the cake she’d been so excited for a few minutes ago, looks up at him and asks, “Have you been attacked?”

Denji blinks. “Huh?”

“Are you acting like this because you’re hurt? If a devil got you, I will summon all my might and vanquish it.”

“Oh.” Denji tries to smile again. It only lasts for a second, but he feels like it’s more convincing than the other horrible looks he’s been managing today. “No, no one attacked me. I’m just…”

Nothing outside of Chainsaw Man.

A waste of oxygen who has no right to be the one always coming out alive.

Failing you.

“…Tired.” Denji scrubs at his eyes and yawns exaggeratedly. “Also getting really bored talking about myself. How ‘bout you tell me about your day instead of asking me questions?”

Power’s eyes light up.

Aki is frowning down at his untouched cake, expression unreadable.

Nayuta is staring at him like she’d burn the world down to make him feel better. It is her who he focuses on, meeting her eyes and whispering, “Please?”

Nayuta sighs, ducks her head, and starts picking at her cake.

Denji gets his way after that. Power starts off rambling once the invitation has been offered. It isn’t very hard for her to draw Aki and Nayuta in. Before long, they’re eating cake and talking cheerfully, like nothing was ever wrong with Denji. Nayuta keeps shooting him anxious glances, but she doesn’t say anything, which he knows means that he’s going to go along with it.

The rest of the night passes peacefully.

It’s when they’re getting ready for bed that Denji is forcefully reminded that kids may be little dumbasses, but they aren’t stupid.

Aki looks tired. He’s started to notice that he always looks tired, probably the natural consequence of not going back to bed when he gets a nightmare. It’s another thing on the list of shit that Denji’s going to have to fix. It’s the waking up that’s a problem though, not going to bed. Aki usually at least tries to lay down and doze off when Denji asks him to. Tonight, however, he isn’t even trying. The kid’s sitting bolt upright on the futon and staring at Denji with the same worried look from earlier.

He wishes he could ignore it.

He can’t.

Denji flops down across from Aki with a sigh. He barely reacts.

“Alright, what’s wrong?” he asks, already knowing very well that the answer is him.

Aki is nice enough to look away and say, “Nothing.”

“You were a better liar as an adult,” Denji muses. He knows ‘cause he doesn’t think he’s ever actually caught Aki in a lie, even though a deep, sinking part of him is starting to feel more and more like he wasn’t always honest about everything. Or at the very least, it’s starting to feel like there was a lot of shit that he kept hidden. And Denji never caught any of it.

This Aki can’t keep things hidden for shit though. He shoots him an offended look, and despite everything, Denji manages a wobbly smile. “C’mon, you’re looking all sulky again. Out with it.”

“I’m not sulking,” Aki mutters, sulkily. “I’m just thinking.”

“About?”

For a moment, it looks like Aki isn’t gonna say, which means that Denji’s gonna have to pry it out of him, which probably means that they’ll be up for at least another hour. Denji’s resignedly gearing himself up for that when he looks at him and, painfully earnestly, says, “You aren’t feeling good, right?”

Denji’s first instinct is to lie. The look on Aki’s face reminds him that the kid knows him almost as well as he knows him.

“I’ve been better,” Denji reluctantly admits.

Aki nods seriously. “Don’t worry. I’ll just wake you up if you have a nightmare.”

With that, Denji loses the plot. “Huh?”

“I’m going to watch out to make sure that you don’t have nightmares. And if you do, I’ll wake you up.”

Denji allows himself a moment to be touched. Then he reminds himself that he needs to be the adult in the relationship now and gets to adulting. “You’d have to stay up all night to do that,” he tiredly points out, hoping that he doesn’t know where this conversation is going, but knowing that he does.

Indeed, Aki looks right at him with those overly serious, painfully tired eyes and says, “I don’t need to sleep. I’m not tired.”

“Bullshit,” Denji says. A second too late, he remembers that he shouldn’t be swearing in front of the kid who he’s trying to get to swear less, but he can’t bring himself to care. Aki trying to turn himself into a chronic insomniac at all of seven years old is more important than him having a dirty mouth.

Come to think of it, he doesn’t think that he saw adult Aki sleep much either. There were the nights that he spent with him and Power, but even then, he was generally still awake before Denji dozed off and awake when he woke up. Was he-

No. That’s something to worry about later, when he has time to make a plan if he needs one. When he doesn’t feel like he’s on the verge of being ripped apart at the seams. Right now, what matters is the way Aki tries to insist, “I'm not lying! I’m-”

“You’re sporting eye bags big enough for me to hide Power in.”

Aki raises a shaky hand up to poke beneath one of his eyes. His frown deepens at the groove he finds there. He looks up at the ceiling, the scopes in his eyes spinning as he doubtlessly tries to fish for some excuse.

Denji doesn’t give him the chance. “How much have you been sleeping?” he asks, more to hear Aki’s answer than anything else.

“Enough,” the kid murmurs, which he knows means ‘not enough’.

Fortunately, Denji doesn’t need to think very hard to figure out why that is. “You’re scared of having nightmares again,” he says, taking care to keep his voice soft in a way that he never knew it could be.

Aki looks back down at his lap. “I’m not scared,” he murmurs. “I just don’t wanna keep waking you up.”

“It’s fine if you wake me up,” Denji insists. “I’m okay with losing a little sleep if it makes you feel better. And I’d rather you wake me up than stay up watching TV all night.”

Aki shifts in place, picks at a piece of lint on the leg of his pajamas, and doesn’t say a word.

“How ‘bout this? I’ll watch out to make sure you don’t have any nightmares tonight,” Denji tries.

Aki’s head snaps up. “But then you won’t sleep!”

Denji grins lazily. “I’ll be real with you, I don’t think I’m gonna sleep tonight anyway. At least this way I’ll be doing something.”

“You have school tomorrow.”

“Yeah, but I can take a nap when I get home, right? You and Nayuta can keep Power from destroying anything too important.”

Aki looks like he’s going to keep arguing. A shadow of doubt falls across his face before he can get a word out. He looks down again, nibbling on his lower lip, and Denji is suddenly worried that it might be even worse than he realized. He knew from the thrashing and flailing that the kid was having nightmares, and he had already guessed that they’re pretty bad, but if he’s getting this scared to sleep-

Priorities. If he tries to think about too many things at once, what little brains he has will turn into ooze and seep out of his ears. He needs to focus on figuring out how to keep the kids alive without making Kishibe think he can’t take care of them. Once he’s got that figured out, he can deal with Aki’s sleep trouble and any other issues the kids might be having that he’s too caught up in his own shit to notice. Until then, he’ll have to settle for making sure that he gets any sleep at all and keeping the nightmares from upsetting him too badly.

“Are you sure?” comes Aki’s whispered question.

“Duh,” Denji says, making sure to exaggeratedly roll his eyes. “I don’t say things that I’m not sure about. Now, are you going to try to go to sleep or not?”

Aki eyes him warily for a little while longer before hesitantly nodding and actually climbing into bed.

Despite his visible exhaustion, it takes over an hour for Aki to actually fall asleep. True to his word, Denji isn’t even remotely tired by the time he drifts off. His head is spinning with too many things - Yoshida’s threat, the chasm that opens in his chest at the thought of a life without Chainsaw Man, and the old specter that’s returned to hover above his head once again, money.

Aki starts muttering and twitching at some point in the middle of the night. Denji hugs him closer, cards a hand through his hair, and makes soothing noises. By that point, he’s pulled himself together enough to acknowledge that he needs to tackle the problem that he can actually do something about first. By the time Aki calms down, he’s started to formulate a plan.

They get through the night without Aki waking up. He doesn’t look particularly well-rested when he wakes up, but he doesn’t look as tired as he was when he fell asleep, and when Denji asks about his nightmares, he says that he only had a short one that wasn’t very bad. Denji isn’t completely sure that he believes him, but he figures that he would look more shaken up if he had a really bad one, so he decides to count it as a tentative win.

He wishes that it would make him feel better. It doesn’t. There’s nothing in the world that can ward off the sickening dread that overtakes him as he drags himself into the kitchen that morning.

Denji knows what he needs to do now. He doesn’t want to do it. For real, if there were any other options, he’d probably jump to take them right about now. But there aren’t. This is what he’s got, and for the sake of the kids, he’s gotta swallow down his fears and do it.

For them, he’d take on the biggest debt in the world.

Denji gets the kids started on breakfast first. Aki is quiet, but he doesn’t look especially fucked up, so he decides to write that off as him just not being a very noisy kid. He actually looks like he’s listening to the radio playing in the background, and that’s gotta be a good sign. Power and Nayuta are happily chatting with each other.

All three of them are lost in their own little worlds. None of them look like they’re paying any attention to Denji as he picks up the phone and dials in a number.

“Hello?” a groggy voice answers.

Denji tries to force a smile even though the person he’s talking to can’t see him. “Hey, Asa. I, uh, I need help.”