Work Text:
Most of the classes were boring, and Denji didn't understand half of the stuff in like half of them (why were the teachers insistent that he had to learn that stuff before?). Still, he tried to do well at school, he remembered that Reze would have probably wanted that and that Aki would have probably wanted that.
That's why he didn't appreciate being grabbed by the shoulder and pulled into some broomstick closet. Who the hell appreciated stuff like that anyway?
He let out a yelp, but no one cared, and soon a large hand was placed over his mouth, and the door closed.
Yoshida flicked the light switch on, a harsh yellow glow engulfed his face, revealing that stupidly perfect smile.
"Hello, Denji."
"What the fuck is wrong with you?"
Yoshida's lower lip twitched, but the rest of his face remained unchanged as he reached for the pocket of his pants and pulled out a small cardboard box, which he held right in front of Denji's face, as if to let him take in the sight.
"I remember your previous apartment used to smell of cigarettes," he said in a cheerful voice, the corners of his mouth lifting even more, so much that his smile went from perfect to a little unsettling, but Denji still couldn't look away, "So, tell me, do you smoke?"
Denji took a step back, his body pressing against the closet door. He tried to reach for the handle, but-
"Octopus."
-A cold, slimy tentacle wrapped around his wrist, firmly holding his hand in place.
"So, do you smoke?"
Denji wrinkled his nose, his eyes flipping between the red tentacle wrapping around his arm, like a strange, particularly gross, and very unflattering kind of jewelry, and Yoshida's wide smile.
"Why are you asking that?" he growled quietly.
In response, Yoshida let out a quiet laugh. It sounded nearly - no way! - nearly nervous. Denji tried to yank his arm from the Octopus Devil again.
"Oh, nothing," Yoshida shook the pack of cigarettes in front of his face, "I confiscated this from some of the first years and thought we could grab a smoke or two, you know, together."
"What are you suddenly? Some kind of hall monitor?"
Yoshida shrugged.
"No, but they didn't know that."
"Right… And now you want to go and have a smoke with me?" Denji said and drew his eyebrows together.
Yoshida nodded, his bangs swaying in front of his eyes.
"Isn't that what I've said?"
What the hell was wrong with him? And even worse, what the hell was wrong with Denji? Because for a moment he considered the offer. Why did he even do that? It's not like he even smoked? Sure, he once ate a cigarette, and another time he tried to steal one from Aki after he overheard some girls on the train talking about how guys who smoke were hot, but he got scolded for that.
Denji banged the back of his head against the door, the Octopus Devil squeezed his arm a little harder, not quite hard enough to cause pain, but just hard enough to cause some minor discomfort.
"You know what? Whatever. Sure."
Yoshida nodded, and even though nothing in his expression changed, he seemed happier for some reason. Octopus Devil let go of Denji's arm.
Even though they managed to make it out of the broom closet unnoticed, which is a good thing. Denji's reputation already wasn't the best, and he doesn't even want to think about what being seen emerging from a closet with another guy (and he might have been just a little flustered about that) would have done to it.
Unfortunately, the streak of his luck didn't last much longer. The very moment they walked up the stairs onto the next floor, the hallway got busy. It was probably the first time Denji saw so many girls sneaking glances in his general direction, and the only part he didn't like about it was that he was perfectly aware that none of them were that interested in him. They were all there for Yoshida.
And for the briefest moment, Denji thought that he nearly understood what they saw in him, right before being brought back to reality by the back of Yoshida's hand brushing against his. Some primal part of his brain thought its warmth was nice, but he quickly reminded himself that it's Yoshida's warmth, and Yoshida is a guy, so he yanked his hand away and stuffed it into his pocket.
They were just two dudes going up to the roof to smoke. He saw plenty of guys smoking together, he could remember finding Aki smoking behind the Public Safety's building with his devil partner (who was usually just sucking on popsicles) a few times. It was just something dudes did, nothing gay about that.
They climbed the ladder and opened the door to be welcomed with a gentle gust of cold wind.
Yoshida marched over to the edge, completely unbothered and with a smile on his face.
"Isn't the view pretty from all the way up there?"
Denji slouched and, with a rather dissatisfied expression, walked over to where Yoshida was standing.
"It's alright, I guess," he shrugged, "Let's just get to smoking."
Yoshida pulled out the packet, opened it, and held it out towards Denji. He wasn't well-versed in cigarettes, all he knew was that it wasn't the brand Aki and Himeno used to smoke.
They sat down near the edge, looking over the gray, concrete landscape. Over where the sun was reflecting in the windows of the skyscrapers. Suddenly, Denji thought of a question somebody asked him so long ago that it felt as if it had happened in another life.
He rolled the cigarette between his fingers and snuck a brief glance at Yoshida.
"Hey, have you heard that children's story about two mice?"
Another glance, just quick enough to see that Yoshida faintly nodded, his pitch-black eyes still focused on some unknown point somewhere in the distance.
"So, uhh, right," Denji stumbled on his words, which was stupid because it was just a dumb, meaningless question, "Do you think the country mouse or the city mouse is right?"
The corners of Yoshida's mouth twitched as he patted down his pants, probably looking for a lighter.
"Country mouse," he said after a moment of thought, "I think it's the country mouse. It gets to be normal, it gets to sit back and take a break. Wouldn't you want that too?"
Denji took a deep breath and slouched, staring down at the rooftops and pavement and streets and cars that suddenly seemed so small and meaningless.
He heard the lighter click as Yoshida lit up his cigarette and then put the lighter next to the one hanging from Denji's mouth and lit it up too. Denji breathed in, the smoke getting into his lungs, burning and scratching at his insides. He wanted to cough it up, but he forced himself to just breathe it out. Yoshida was smoking normally after all, and he didn't want to seem like a wuss.
"I… I don't know. I'm happy with going to school, hanging out with Nayuta, and eating normal food every day, but I want to be Chainsaw Man, and I want to fight Devils."
Yoshida let out a puff of smoke and sighed.
"Why?"
"Why what?" Denji drew his eyebrows together.
Yoshida shook his head, almost as if he wanted to make sure that his hair was covering his eyes.
"Why do you want to be Chainsaw Man so badly?"
Nearly instinctually, Denji put his hand against his chest, faintly feeling the outline of the pull cord. The gust of cold wind ran through his hair and through his flesh, suddenly chilling him to the very marrow of his bones. For some reason, he found himself missing Yoshida's warmth.
"People like Chainsaw Man, don't they?" he said and breathed in more smoke. He still wasn't sure if he quite understood why people liked doing that so much, and he surely didn't feel any more attractive because of it.
"Some people do. And some people like Denji. Isn't being Denji nice too?"
He slouched even more than he was slouching before. The ashes from his cigarette crumpled and fell onto the concrete rooftop.
"Like who?" he asked, "Who likes Denji?"
For a moment, the rooftop went silent, with only the wind howling and the cars roaring down below, too far to even matter. Denji turned around and looked at Yoshida. Even though his eyes remained obscured by his hair, he swore that he could see the faintest hint of a blush appear on Yoshida's cheeks, the softest of pinks against the pale skin.
"And what if I do?" he asked, and suddenly that faint blush became more prominent, "What if I like Denji? What if I like that he's kind, and that he's caring, and that he's resilient, even if that sometimes makes him a pain in the ass?"
Now Denji felt his cheeks get warm. Fuck, was he blushing too? It was such a stupid thing to be blushing because of a guy! But then Yoshida put his hand over Denji's, and suddenly Denji didn't want to yank it away. Suddenly, Yoshida's warmth was even more pleasant than before.
He lowered his head, trying to hide his obviously flustered expression from Yoshida's sight. But he didn't move away. He didn't want to move away for some dumb reason that he could neither explain nor justify.
"Stop saying that," he said, his voice cracking a little.
Yoshida smiled and nodded.
"Sure thing, Denji, but know that I won't stop thinking that."
Denji blushed harder. Maybe, just maybe, he liked that.