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It was dark out, dark enough that the whole street was swallowed in the night. Lonely lampposts and a few scattered stars lit up the streets as a small breeze swept through, but other than that it appeared rather empty.
That was until the sound of swift tapping against concrete broke the silence. The sound of rapid tapping echoed through the quieter streets before finally reaching an apartment building and coming to a brief pause.
Denji had stopped, panting slightly, and looking up at the complex above him that appeared larger than life itself. It towered over him, some of the visible windows glinting beneath the night. It was no different from the average apartment complex, but to Denji, it was almost breathtaking.
His eyes glimmered faintly as he took it in, feeling so small in the few seconds he let himself get absorbed in his awe. It reminded him of how small he really was in comparison to life.
But those thoughts popped like a balloon as he remembered why he was here, pushing his way in and making his way upstairs with no regard for the other residents on the various floors, shoes loudly clacking against the staircase as he ascended, until he reached the floor he was looking for.
Then he finally reached the door to Himeno’s apartment; he hadn’t been here since…that incident. But since then their relationship had developed much differently, Himeno willing to be a friend and Denji getting to know her, their deal still holding strong—even if Denji hadn’t taken up that offer to bring over Power and Aki for breakfast yet.
He wasn’t exactly sure why he came here, no one said anything was wrong, but Himeno didn’t show up to the work dinner that night, and she didn’t seem like the type to miss those things. Aki said that she’d told him she would be busy, but Denji just didn’t think that was true.
It was as simple as that, no complexities, theories, just a gut feeling. That’s all Denji really went off of, when he thought about it.
Soon enough he was banging on her door, well, no banging, but roughly knocking. There was little courtesy in it as he called out casually despite it being late and him showing up with no warning.
“Hey, Himeno! You here?”
He didn’t get a response for a few minutes, but he was too stubborn for his own good and kept trying.
“Himeno!”
He abruptly stopped when he heard the sound of shuffling in her apartment, followed by a thud as if someone had fallen. Eventually it got close enough and he could hear the click of her door unlocking as well as stumbling away from it.
“It’s unlocked…”
Denji could hear Himeno’s voice from inside, and realized that the stumbling had been her trying to approach the door. Her voice sounded slurred, which caught him off guard. After a moment he pulled the door open to find her slumped in one of the chairs in front of her kitchen counter, head resting against the cold marble with an ashtray and a bottle next to her. Cigarette smoke drifted through the apartment and left a lingering smell that felt like a smack in the face when Denji breathed it in, making him pause.
After a second he closed the door behind him and awkwardly made his way to where she was sitting, flopping into the chair beside her. She didn’t react, not even acknowledging he was there. Denji could tell she knew he was there, though.
He took a moment to look her over, in a tank top and shorts that lined her frame and made her look really good, at least that’s what he had been thinking, but soon enough his usual thought process was overshadowed by the fact that she looked like a wreck.
Her hair was a mess, nothing was in sorts, it was bad even by Denji’s standards, eventually he leaned his head down next to hers, poking her with one of his fingers.
“Himeno? Didja fall asleep?”
When he didn’t get a response and the awkward silence stretched, he poked again, harder this time. He was starting to get annoyed—partly because he hated that he was starting to feel the slightest bit nervous, but mostly because he was impatient.
“Hime-“
His hand fell slack when he heard a small sniffle, Himeno, shifting to sit up but having to haphazardly catch herself on the counter as she unsteadily swayed in her seat. She slowly turned to look at him, a half-burnt cigarette hanging loosely from her lips and her eyes rimmed with a few stray tears, looking like she’d been crying for a little while now.
“Ahhhh, no, no, I-I’m up-“
She giggled, but it wasn’t the lighthearted or stupid kind he’d gotten used to hearing from her, it was unsteady. He felt somewhat uncomfortable and a little warm as Himeno attempted to lean closer to him, catching herself on the counter again in an attempt to stay upright. The cigarette fell from her mouth and a stray wisp of smoke hit Denji right in the face.
“What’d you come by for? Missseddd me? Or need help with Makima again?”
Denji found the words stuck in his throat, he knew why he was here, but for some reason saying ‘I was worried’ felt like the wrong thing to say.
“I-l-“
“I-It’s okay, Denji, I-I get it. I’m just…having a funnn night. By myself.”
She gave him a wide grin that felt anything but genuine, and it made him confused. Clearly something was wrong, but she didn’t say anything outright. But he could see it pretty clearly, it was written on her face.
He tried to talk again, but Himeno cut him off with another sniffle that made her pull back and slump in her chair again, her smile wobbling.
“N-No. I-I guess not. Y-You can tell…I-I thought I could-“
Before Denji could say anything she hit the counter with a thud and started to cry, her body shaking and swaying with every soft sobbed that jerked her unsteady form. She hiccuped in between, her arms hiding her face in an attempt not to let Denji see how bad of shape she was really in.
He could hear a slew of words that were hard to grasp, mumbled and slurred. In an awkward attempt to help he reached out and patted her shoulder.
“What’d ya say?”
“I-I didn’t think I could cry like this anymore…i-it-“
She hiccuped, sniffing between her words. She still wouldn’t show her face.
“It hurts, it really hurts—I-I’m sorryyyy…you’re a kid…y-you shouldn’t be the one d-dealing with-“
Denji stared at her in silence, processing her words slowly as they reached an incomprehensible level. In that moment, he felt more human than he had in days. It left him blank on what to do or say while she cried, something in him stopping him from moving.
“-with m-my shit. This shitttyyy world, shitty Makima, shitty job-“
Himeno could feel him staring, unable to comprehend the amount of empathy and emotion she was showing to him, as well as how broken she really was. It made her want to cry more. She didn’t know why, maybe she really had drunk too much—even for her.
“Y-You shoouuld go home…b-but I don’t wanna be alone..please, please don’t..I-it’s not fair, b-but I don’t wanna be alone-“
Her pleas seemed to break that wall in his brain. There was no catch, no innuendo, just pure pain mixed with guilt. He awkwardly placed his head on the counter, turning away from her slightly. On the other end, Himeno exhaled slowly, still not looking back at him. She could barely remember what she’d been doing an hour ago at this point, but for some reason she could barely stomach the thought of being alone. Denji sitting next to her meant…a lot, really.
Himeno’s head was killing her, and as the minutes of silence between them passed, occasionally broken by sobs that had gotten softer and softer, eventually they stopped. Once it was silent for long enough, Denji lifted his head to look at her.
She was unkempt, reeking of cigarettes and a strong beer—a bottle of which, half finished, remained on the counter beside her. But other than that, once she’d fallen asleep she looked…oddly peaceful.
It reminded him of those nights where he used to fall asleep with Pochita right beside him—no matter how rough his day had been, knowing someone was sleeping right next to him had been enough to let him dream.
In a sense, he felt like he understood her. That most of the antics she pulled weren’t as simple as they seemed. Most of all, he realized that she was truly a friend—that she saw him as one.
After a moment, he rested his head on the counter again, turning away from her once more. He didn’t know why—he just thought it’d make her feel better if he stayed here.
He’d slept in worse, and being next to someone who actually viewed him as a human, a friend? That made the cold counter feel much warmer.
Denji just stared out the window, hearing Himeno’s soft snores next to him, they weren’t touching—with a decent distance between them—and instead Denji was just next to her, a presence meant to offer comfort as a friend—something he wasn’t used to doing.
But he was trying.
And for tonight, he let his eyes close, dreaming of the days where he’d live the life he’d longed for, while his exhausted form laid partially on the counter. He was bathed in moonlight while Himeno was cloaked in the shadows of the apartment, for now, both dead to the world.
And hopefully when they woke up in morning, not everything would be regrets.
