Chapter Text
Aki is alive.
Aki is back on earth.
Aki is not Aki.
It is an immutable fact of nature. Aki Hayakawa was a human - the thing that keeps using his name even when he knows he shouldn't is not. Aki Hayakawa is dead. The thing that crawled out of hell and now stands in his place is a piece of the devil he hated most, a monster shoved into a particularly ironic mask. Perhaps he has absorbed the real Aki's memories through a set of cruel, twisted circumstances, but that does not make him him.
No matter what Angel says.
He would bring the real Aki back in a heartbeat if he could. But he can't. He should have stayed curled up in his corner of hell instead of insulting his memory by letting Angel pretend that he's him and setting out on this deranged quest. But he didn't. He could do something about his own existence to remedy the grand joke that is his existence and prevent any further tragedy from arising. But he won't.
At the end of the day, the devil that will never be Aki Hayakawa is selfish. He knows that he has no right to use his name, but his heart twists with something other than hurt when Angel says it, so he let him continue and fell further and further into the habit of thinking of himself by it. Now, he isn't sure that he could stop even if he tried. In theory, it would be easy for him to roll over and isolate himself from society the way he should, but he can't bring himself to do it.
Denji is out there somewhere, and he knows that he isn't his to love, but he loves him. He loves him and needs to make sure that he's okay, even if it's only a glimpse. The same can be said for Power. She isn't his, she won't even remember the person he isn't if he sees her, yet he knows that he will go looking for her the second he knows that Denji is alright. And after that...
If Denji or Power need his help with anything, he'll help them. He hopes that they don't. But even if they do, it will only be a temporary arrangement. There are more reasons why he can't stay with them than he can begin to list, reasons that they are bound to sense the instant they see him. Truly, his presence would only do them more harm than good, especially Denji. So he will indulge in his selfish need to see them, to make sure that they are okay without him their Aki. Then, once that is over...
He does not know what he'll do once he's done with Denji and Power.
What he does know is this.
The devil that can't help but call himself Aki knows what he is. He's taken precautions to account for it, damned himself to make sure that at least one part of the Gun Devil will never cause bloodshed again. And yet, despite everything...
Aki doesn't want to die.
*
Tracking Denji down is no easy feat. The first thing that they have to do is figure out where they are; a process that takes an entire night. Angel convinces Aki to stay in the vicinity of their hideout while he, the less conspicuous of the two, raids gas stations for information. It's almost dawn when he returns with the information that they're on the very outskirts of a particularly run-down Tokyo community, miles and miles away from where they need to be.
With their location determined, the next step is to get to the section of Tokyo that they used to call home.
Progress is achingly slow. They end up needing to wait out the day in their temporary shelter before they can even think of setting out. That run-down building where they spend their first two days back on earth ends up being the first of many. The need to travel at night and stick to the shadows slows them down considerably. It feels like they never make it more than a few kilometers before they're ducking into another abandoned building or particularly shady alley to wait the day out. More than once, he wonders how much faster Angel would be able to move if he were alone, where he would go, what he would do.
Even more often than that, Angel stops Aki from making some small, subtle, potentially disastrous misstep born of human memories and impulses. The need for such frequent correction grates at his pride in a way that makes him feel even less like himself. The understanding that it is necessary keeps him from complaining, let alone suggesting that Angel take advantage of his second chance and go on without him.
That, and the selfish thing that twists and screams in his chest at the thought of Angel leaving him.
It's a slow, agonizing process, but one night, a little over two weeks after their return to earth, Aki finds himself in front of what had once been his apartment building.
He doesn't know how long he stands there staring.
Most of the wreckage of his attack has been cleared away. Tents and small, temporary offices dot the outside of the building. Cranes, bulldozers, and other vehicles crouch off to the side like sleeping giants. The whole thing is surrounded by metal posts and long strips of caution tape intended to keep any passersby getting too close to the active construction zone.
Despite these early attempts at restoration, the apartment is still a shell of what it once was.
The gaping holes in the sides of the concrete walls are unignorable. His vision zeroes in on them, intensifying until he can see what remains inside the building. Bits and pieces of ruined homes are scattered among the charred walls and piles of rubble; a throw pillow, the shattered remains of what was once a fine plate, a child's doll. His stomach twists, and before he can start looking for the apartment that served as the epicenter of the disaster, he focuses his eyes to unfocus and his vision to switch back to something more human.
He doesn't know what he's looking for here. That was true when he first set out and remains true now. Denji doesn't have any reason to come back to the ruined apartment with all the time that has passed. Certainly, sentiment won't be calling him back. Denji's always been the sort of person to move forward without a backward glance. If anything, the memories will have driven him out of the area completely.
Aki has no reason to be here, but now that he gazes upon the destruction he's caused, he finds that he cannot move.
Until a hand reaches out to tug at his jacket sleeve.
Angel drops his hand the instant that Aki looks down. He's staring up at him with a small, tense frown and crimson eyes that glimmer with worry. A flicker of guilt races through his heart as he realizes that he's probably responsible for it. There is no point in lingering on it. Aki can't act in a way that would set him at ease, and no matter how hard he tries to act like everything's normal and he's fine, Angel always seems to see through it.
And god, Aki has been trying . Sometimes it feels like a constant effort, more exhausting than anything he's ever done. It aches, yet he can't bring himself to stop. Angel may never be convinced, but there are moments when Aki believes his own act, and those moments of blissful oblivion are worth the constant strain.
He wishes that this were one of those times. Instead, as he stands in front of the place he had once called home, the place he destroyed, he finds himself agonizingly self-aware.
Yet he can't move.
"Aki," Angel calls, snaring his attention and pulling him out of the dark place he was starting to creep into.
"Sorry," Aki says. "I zoned out."
"I noticed," comes Angel's dry response. He glances at the apartment building, his frown deepening for half a second, before molding his expression into something that almost qualifies as impassive when he looks back at him. "Let's go. We aren't going to find anything here."
Aki looks back at the apartment. His gaze starts to wander up the building, toward where a certain window should be. He yanks his gaze back to Angel before he can find it. "Alright," he says.
His feet feel like lead, but with the sight of Denji's horrified face burned into the back of his eyes and the sound of gunshots ringing in his ears, he walks away.
As he does, Aki is forced to confront the biggest problem in his plan. He has no idea where Denji may be.
Well, that is not entirely true. Glimpses of newspapers and magazines make Aki acutely aware of one significant change in Denji's life despite his status as an outsider looking in. Everywhere he looks, 'Chainsaw Man's’ exploits are detailed in bright, bold letters. The first time he found one of these articles, he couldn't believe what he was seeing and frantically scanned it, searching for any mention of Denji. There were none. By now, he knows better than to bother looking. Chainsaw Man appears in too wide of an area to be any help tracking down the individual himself, and no one seems to know who Denji is.
It's for the better that no one knows who Denji is. That doesn't stop Aki from feeling aching frustration.
It isn’t that finding Denji is ‘no easy feat’. Under their circumstances, it’s borderline impossible.
*
The day after the visit to the apartment is a rainy one. Aki and Angel are holed up in an old, ratty, abandoned house. It has holes in the roof and mold just about everywhere, but they are lucky enough that it was abandoned with most of its furniture. It’s early enough that between the rain and daylight, Aki should be taking the opportunity to sleep. Instead, he finds himself sitting at a musty, wobbly table, staring listlessly out the window.
Angel slides into the seat across from him without a word.
Aki frowns. "You should be sleeping."
"Hypocrite," Angel says.
Aki briefly considers trying to defend himself, then shrugs his good arm.
Angel turns his gaze toward the window with a sigh. "Have you thought of a way to find him?" he asks.
"I would have told you if I did."
The devil hums. "We should look around here, then start searching a wider area if we don't find him."
Aki nods. It's only when Angel looks back at him, frowning, that he realizes that he didn't see it.
Maybe he should try to get some sleep after all.
"That's probably our best option," Aki says. He says it with equal parts honesty and dread. Yes, a slow, methodical search is probably their best hope of finding Denji, but in a city like Tokyo, it's still like trying to find a needle in a haystack.
Then again, the same could be said of Angel finding Aki in hell.
The thought brings a burst of light to his mind. He wouldn't go as far as to call it hope, Aki himself is far too cold and subdued for that, but it's something. Inspiration, perhaps. A thread worth pursuing.
"Do you think you could track him if you got his scent?" he asks.
"...Maybe," Angel says, the wariness in his voice mirrored on his features. "I might not be able to recognize it. It's not like I knew him very well. But..." He trails off, staring at Aki thoughtfully. There's something about it that makes his skin prickle and his breath caught in his throat. He tries to follow the implication lingering in his eyes for half a second before he finds himself staring back out the window and trying not to squirm.
"...I'll try," Angel finishes.
"Thank you."
"Thank me by going to sleep."
*
Despite having a plan in theory, Aki still can't help but feel like he has no idea how he's going to find Denji.
Until, suddenly, he does.
It happens a week later, in the middle of the night. The middle of the night, yet early by the standards of the careful devils that only come creeping out at night. Aki and Angel have been wandering for less than an hour. Angel's bored, neutral expression speaks of neither optimism nor pessimism. Aki is trying for something similar, but suspects that he comes across as more nervous than anything else.
They're passing through a back alley in a residential neighborhood when Aki is hit by an all-consuming sensation. It washes him with the force of a tidal wave, and suddenly nervousness is the furthest thing from his mind.
Aki doesn't know that he could describe it if he tried. Part of it, the part that makes him come to a dead stop, is-
Denji and Power wrestling in the middle of the living room, blatantly ignoring his cries to knock it off.
-an overwhelming sense of familiarity.
Angel takes a few more steps forward before realizing that he's stopped. He turns his head to peer at him curiously - he thinks he says his name - but Aki barely registers it. He's too caught up in the thing-
Denji waking him up in the middle of the night because Power had another nightmare and he thinks she’ll sleep better with both of them there.
- the sensation -
Power excitedly demanding that he tell her about all of the different recipes that use blood as an ingredient.
- the feeling . It calls to him like a siren's song, telling him to go- to go-
Left.
"Angel," Aki says, turning to him with wide, desperate eyes. He knows that he must look insane, but he doesn't care. He gestures down the left branch of the alleyway and feels a sickening jerk of his stomach when he realizes a second too late that he used that arm, but he doesn't care. He knows that he might be losing his mind, but he doesn't care. Right now, all that he cares about is the frantic, urgent need to chase this feeling. Because he doesn't have any proof, doesn't have a single reason to think it, but he knows that if he chases it he'll find-
Stop this, the sensible part of Aki's mind urges. It's the part of him acknowledging the unease settling into his chest, that part of him that is aware that something unnatural is happening.
It's overshadowed by the part of him that's desperate not to lose this feeling, not after searching for so long, not again. That part of him pushes him to open his mouth and say in the voice of a madman, "We need to go that way."
Something flickers in Angel's eyes. Aki doesn't have the time to try and figure out what it is. All that matters is that he nods and says, "Okay."
That's all that Aki needs. Okay. With that single word, he's tearing down the alleyway, rapid footsteps that soon turn into a run.
Denji’s laughter.
Angel lets off a gentle curse as he rushes to keep up with him.
Power’s smile.
At another time, Aki might feel guilty for it.
Nyako twining around his ankles as she waits to be fed.
Right now, every part of him is focused on chasing the feeling.
The night he looked at them and realized he was seeing family.
It leads him down a short but tangled maze of alleys, making one sharp turn after another, blind and yet unerringly confident in where he's going.
Telling them goodbye and walking out the door for the last time.
“Watch out!” Angel sharply cries, causing him to realize that he’s about to run out into the street.
Aki digs his heels into the soft dirt of the alley, skidding to a stop inches short of bursting out onto the street. The feeling is stronger than ever, wrapping around his heart and squeezing until his eyes start to sting, but the near-miss forces some sense back into him. Enough for him to acknowledge the creeping awareness that something is wrong with this. Enough for him to stop and think.
The first thing that he thinks is that he wasn't thinking at all.
"Sorry," Aki murmurs, turning back to Angel. "I don't know what came over me."
Angel's lips twist into an expression that isn't quite a frown or a grimace, but certainly isn't happy. After a few seconds, Aki places it as doubtful. Not even a heartbeat later, Angel asks, "Don't you?"
Aki's chest constricts. The sensible part of his mind whispers dread in his ears, the sense of something horrible lurking just at the edges of his consciousness. And even so, he opens his mouth to say, 'No.'
A loud, howling laugh cuts him off.
He knows that laugh.
He knows the offended, agitated, playful voice that rises to meet it. Two jubilant, shouting voices tear through the night air, and Aki knows them as well as he- no, these days, he knows them better than he knows himself, and-
"Aki," Angel whispers.
Aki can't breathe. Even so, he walks down to the very edge of the alleyway and peers around the corner. A long row of near-identical houses greets him, yet it doesn't take him even a second to find what he's looking for.
Denji and Power sit on one of the front porch of one of the houses. Both of them - both alive, both healthy, both safe. Judging by the wide grins on their faces, they're happy too. They push and shove at each other with movements that are hard enough to be rough, but not enough to do any real hard. Soon, they will be roughhousing.
They're just like he remembers them.
They're fine.
They're... blurry.
It takes Aki a second to realize that it's because of the tears in his eyes. He looks down to blink them away, and finds his hand shaking. The thing in the place of his arm is shaking too.
The gun.
The irrevocable proof of what he is.
A gentle but unforgiving sense of understanding washes over him. It wasn't some mystical sixth sense that led him to Denji, it was a scent. Aki found Denji because he smelled him and was able to use it to track him down.
Because he isn't human.
Because he isn't Aki.
His legs are starting to shake beneath him, threatening to drop him down to his knees. He locks them in place and forces a deep breath through lungs that are threatening to give out on his entirely. Glassy, inhuman eyes wander up to lock back onto Denji and Power. He allowed himself to stare for a moment longer, watching as Power wrestles Denji into a headlock and starts to push him over the porch railing.
Then he closes his eyes and forces back the tears. When he opens them, he turns around before he can catch another glimpse of the little family that he can't honestly call his.
"Come on," he says to Angel, starting back down the alley.
He stops when he realizes that there aren't any footsteps following him. “Angel,” he calls, hoping that he won’t be forced to turn around.
No such luck.
"What are you doing?" Angel asks, incredulous.
Aki's shoulders tense. He knows that he should look at him, but he's still too close to the end of the alleyway. Too close to them. If he turns back, there's too high a chance that he'll be tempted to do something he mustn't. He knows that he should say something, but the words flounder half-formed in his mind and get caught in his throat, causing him to swallow around nothing.
Angel continues in his stead. "Wasn't finding Denji and Power the entire point of getting out of hell?" he demands.
"It was," Aki hoarsely confirms. And with that, he almost knows what to say. With breath that feels razor-edged, he utters words that feel bitter as poison. "I had to make sure that they're okay. They are, so I'm leaving."
Aki isn't delusional enough to think that Angel will accept that right off the bat. He knew before he spoke that his argument wouldn't land right. He is far too ineloquent, especially right now, and Angel far too stubborn. Whatever he said was going to be imperfect.
Imperfection is fine right now. He can tolerate it as long as Angel understands what he needs to do. His pride can bear the strain of offering a few half-assed explanations as long as the argument isn't too bitter or draining, as long as he isn't forced to say the things that he can't bear to.
But there is going to be an argument. That understanding prepares him for the sour tone in Angel's voice when he says, "Say that to my face."
Aki squeezes his eyes shut. It blocks out the black alley, wrapped in dim shadows, and even lessens the burning in his eyes, but it also makes the tightness in his chest feel that much more acute. He feels how his hand is still shaking and his legs are stiff in a weak attempt to ward off the alternative. Perhaps he stays that way for too long, because he hears tentative footsteps behind him, Angel's concern once again overpowering whatever upset he must feel in this instant.
That sound is what drives him back into action. Aki grabs onto all of the feelings threatening to run rampant in his heart and shoves them into a box deep in his chest. It will not be effective for long, but he doesn't need for long. He only needs to retain his composure until he is away from here. Until a point when Angel isn't looking, if at all possible. For the time being, he squares his shoulders, tilts his chin up, and turns around to face the partner that isn't really his.
Angel is looking at him with something between concern and bewilderment, one hand extended a few tentative inches. Aki's attention lingers on it for an instant, wondering how bad he must look for Angel to be considering touch, before looking back to his face.
"Denji and Power are fine. They're safe and happy. They're-" His voice, calm and controlled for those two sentences, fractures, then gives out entirely as his throat closes up. It's enough to force him to pause for a second.
That second is enough time for Angel to butt in, a scowl beginning to tug at his features. "You could tell all that from a look," he asks, disdainfully dubious.
Aki wants to lie. He would if Angel were the sort of polite person who would let him have it. However, for all that he suspects that he may have been holding his tongue on some things recently, his sharply narrowed eyes tell him that it won't be happening this time. The truth is the only option here.
Maybe that's a good thing. By being honest, he can make him see how walking away is necessary.
It can't be worse than the truth that he's already tried to force him to face. Even if he hasn't had much success in getting him to acknowledge that truth, if he can do that, he can do this.
"No," Aki admits. "But they have each other. They'll be okay."
"And you're willing to accept that without question?" Angel challenges.
Aki swallows. His voice comes out a shade quieter when he starts speaking again. "It's not without question. I thought about it a lot before I died."
There was a time when the thought of leaving them alone terrified him. The inevitability of his impending demise forced him to face that fear. In the end, he had been certain that they would look out for each other. That same confidence stands strong now. He may not know how Power and Denji found each other again, let alone how Power looks like the same fiend he remembers, but he suspects that it doesn't matter. They're alive and they're together. As long as that much is true, they will be okay.
He wishes that Angel knew them the way he does - the way Aki did. If he did, maybe he wouldn't be looking at him like he's spouting nonsense.
"You don't know anything about their lives," Angel points out. "They could have problems that you can't see."
Aki looks away. He's too late to stop his eyes from wandering toward the end of the alley, but he does manage to lock his legs in place before he can do anything stupid. It's easier than he expected. There's an aching urge trying to drive him forward, a voice whispering for him to try and get one more glimpse, but it's overpowered by the cold, clawing feeling that took root in him the instant he realized how he found them. It sends a paralyzing child through his body and allows him to anchor himself in place.
Thankfully, it is not so overwhelming that it stops him from speaking.
"They probably do," he says. "But it probably isn't anything that I can help with."
They probably don't have any problems that his presence won't make worse.
"Bullshit!"
Aki's attention snaps back to Angel with the sheer force of the exclamation. The other devil's eyes are burning with such intensity that he almost has to look away again. Yet he holds firm as he says, "That isn't the problem and you know it. Aki..." Some of the heat fades from Angel's voice, his features softening into something delicate and mournful. "Do you really think they'll care that you aren't human?"
"That isn't it," Aki says.
"Then what is it?" Angel presses. "Don't you think they'll want to see you?"
"I'm not the person they want to see."
Angel does a good job of holding back whatever expression is trying to fight its way onto his face. He isn't able to stop his lips from parting slightly. Aki still catches the way that his eyes dim ever so slightly. It succeeds in making him look away where his anger failed.
"Besides," he continues, forcing a hint of optimism into his voice. "Power shouldn't remember me anyway. And Denji..." His breath catches in his throat again. This time, he pushes through before it can make him pause for more than a few seconds. "Denji will have already mourned me and moved on. It's better this way."
"No, it isn't," Angel says, the hint of irritation bleeding into his voice telling Aki that it's safe to look at him again. "You're being selfish."
Aki frowns. "I'm really not."
He's trying to avoid hurting them even worse. How could that be selfish?
"You are," Angel insists. "You're being selfish and making excuses because you're scared."
"...Maybe I am," Aki admits. It stings to say it, but he can't bring himself to rightfully deny it. "That doesn't mean that what I'm saying isn't true."
"You're just hurting yourself more."
"Well, maybe I'd rather do that than risk hurting them."
"Well, maybe I don't want to stand around and watch you self-destruct!"
Aki's eyes widen.
Angel looks away.
A cold breeze rushes through the air, carrying with it a peal of bright, familiar, aching laughter.
"Angel..." Aki whispers. It's the only thing he's able to get out, for there are one too many responses sitting on the tip of his tongue, the thing he knows he should say but is too selfish to utter, and the thing that he wants to say but could never choke out.
It's okay if you leave, he knows he should say. You've already done plenty to help. I'll be fine on my own. Go, live your life.
Please don't go, he wants to scream. I can't lose you too.
The sound of footsteps cuts through the heavy silence that's settled over them. Despite everything, it isn't enough to get Aki moving. He's stuck rooted to the spot, staring dumbly at Angel, hardly able to breathe as he waits to see how this is going to play out.
He gets his answer in the form of Angel starting down the alleyway. And for a moment, he thinks that it's the worst answer he could have gotten. Aki stands rooted to the spot, chest aching as loss and guilt build up and threaten to-
"Are you coming, or do you want to be spotted?" Angel calls over his shoulder.
That question does something to Aki. There's a tension in Angel's voice that prevents him from letting out a breath of relief. The undeniable tiredness makes the guilt even worse. At the same time, there is a resigned softness that soothes the worst of the worried ache. It combines into a befuddling concoction of emotions that he doesn't know how to make heads or tails of.
Aki shoves it down and hurries after Angel.
They've just turned around the corner when the footsteps stop at the entrance to the alleyway.
Aki's pretty sure he imagines it, some combination of stress and sick, selfish wishful thinking, but for a second, he thinks he hears Power's voice.
*
Aki knows that he and Angel should talk about what happened.
They don't.
Aki knows that they should leave the area, find a new hiding place, and figure out what to do going forward now that their immediate mission is complete.
They don't.
Three days pass.
*
It's dangerous to leave the abandoned house serving as their current hideout without a good reason, especially in the light of day. Aki knows that he's being a fool. That knowledge is not enough to dissuade him from stepping out to get a breath of fresh air. He's spent almost every waking moment inside for the past three days. The house is one of the nicer ones they've squatted in, a benefit of being in a relatively nice residential area, but that isn't enough to keep it from growing indomitably suffocating. All day he's been fighting the sensation of walls closing in and shadows reaching out to drag him into the recesses of his mind that he's only barely been avoiding.
Aki isn't enough of a fool to think that he'll be safe as long as he's only out for a little while. Time and tragedy have taught him that unlikely does not mean impossible and even the slightest risk is significant. And a handful of minutes spent outside does pose a slight risk. However, with Angel having pulled on a hat and ratty old hoody before creeping off to do something that Aki didn't listen closely enough to catch, it's a risk that he's willing to take.
By this point, he thinks that he'd rather be taken down by Public Safety than stay cooped up for a second longer.
As he closes the rickety door behind him, Aki if Angel ever felt like this when he was in Public Safety's holding cells. He knows that he isn't going to ask.
Aki ducks into the alleyway along the side of the house and slowly begins walking through. Like the house itself, this is one of the nicer alleys he's been through since returning to earth. The dirt path beneath him is free of garbage. Only a few piles of rubbish sit outside the dumpsters pressed up against the walls, which are low enough to allow the sunlight to come streaming through. The dumpsters themselves look to be only half full, which makes the putrid scent rising from them a little more tolerable.
He doesn't let himself go very far. For all that he is courting danger, he hasn't taken leave of his senses entirely. Once he's about halfway down the alleyway, he walks over to the wall and leans against it. The rough stone is warm through his tattered clothes. It's a fairly nice place where he's decided to stop. The nearest dumpster is several yards away, so it doesn't smell too bad. There's a gap in the wall leading to a branching path across from him and a few feet to the side, but he can't see down it, so he figures that he was obscured enough from view that it isn't any worse than stopping anywhere else in the alley.
At the very least, he can't bring himself to give a damn.
Aki lets out a sigh, tilts his head back, and closes his eyes.
He wishes that he had a cigarette. His fingers twitch at the thought.
Maybe he can ask Angel to nab some for him next time he goes out.
Or maybe he should take this as an opportunity to stop smoking completely. Chances are that smoking can do him any harm as he is, but he probably shouldn't regardless. The more he thinks about it, the more it begins to feel like an insult to Himeno and-
He can hear footsteps approaching. Quickly.
Aki's eyes snap open and dart over to the source of the sound. It's coming from the gap in the wall.
For a second, he is hit with the distinct feeling that he might be a moron after all.
Then he takes off.
Footsteps pound after him in rapid pursuit. He moves fast, but they're faster. His pursuer is rapidly gaining on him. Aki tries to fight through the raw, animal alarm flooding through his mind to try and come up with a plan. Before he can get very far, he catches something in the air, and suddenly he's overpowered by-
"I have eaten the disgusting vegetables," she declares, shoving her plate forward with an odd mix of loathing and triumph. "Now you must do as I say for the rest of the evening!"
"That's not how it works," he deadpans.
"Yes? 'Tis the contract you made!"
"I told you to eat your vegetables so you don't get sick. There was no contract."
" Such deceit! You would lie to avoid fulfilling your half of the bargain?"
"Power-"
Aki stumbles, and an all-too-familiar screech cuts through the air. He doesn't have a chance to register what it means before someone slams into him with all the power of a freight train and forces the air out of his chest. The arms wrapping around his torso in a vice-like grip hold them together as they're sent flying into a dumpster. They barely make it inside, the rifle where Aki's arm should be slamming against the side with a loud, horrible clang. It's accompanied by the stench of garbage and a dull ache that's already forming in the small of Aki's back.
His head hurts. It takes him a second to realize that he hit that against the side of the dumpster as well.
Someone presses against his chest, letting go of his torso only to straddle his waist and him further down as they push themselves up. Aki blinks up at them, muscles already tensing in preparation for some sort of fight, and-
"Who are you?" Power demands.
- and he is feeling more than he could begin to describe and doesn't know what to do about any of it.
The first thing he thinks is that catching a glimpse of Power from a distance can't compare to seeing her up close. Her hair dangles down to drape them in a thick blonde curtain, wild as always, but not so tangled as to make him think that she isn't taking care of herself. She's wearing a shirt that he recognizes as one of Denji's, white with the english text 'Mega Milk' sprawled across the front. Her lips are pulled down in scowl, and her eyes, yellow with crimson crosses, are bright, vibrant, and alive.
She's just like he remembers.
It really is her.
"Hey!" Power cries, shaking his shoulder. "Answer me! Wh..." Her lips part, then press back together, harsh scowl morphing into a puzzled frown. "Why are you crying?"
Aki blinks. Hesitantly, he lifts his hand to rub at his eyes. His fingers come back wet with tears.
"Sorry," he murmurs. "I'm-"
Not Aki.
"-No one." Attempting to push himself up, he continues, "Let me go and I'll-"
"Liar!" Power braces her hands on his shoulders and roughly shoves him back down into the sea of garbage bags. "I know your scent!"
Aki opens his mouth, but no words come out. His heart feels like it is racing and being strangled at the same time. Meanwhile, his mind is screaming at him that this is impossible. Power's back on earth because she died in hell. There's no way that she can recognize him, no way that she can remember him, no matter how much a selfish part of him may want it.
Even if she did, it wouldn't be him that she's remembering. The person she would be missing is gone. She isn't his to love.
He clings to this thought as he chokes out, "I'm not who you think I am."
Confusion and frustration intermingle across Power's face. They morph into another scowl for a second, only to turn into a look of triumph. "But you are someone!" She stabs her pointer finger against the middle of his chest. "I smelled you outside my dwelling the other night! And now I have found you again!"
Aki has never felt heartbreak and relief at the same time before. Now, they catalyze into something that threatens to send tears spilling from his eyes once again. "Maybe," he says, "But I'm just passing through. It's not-"
He's cut off but the sound of another set of footsteps pounding down the alleyway.
Please, no, Aki thinks, his heart sinking even as he leaps. Not you. He might be able to talk his way out of this as long as it's just Power, but there will be no avoiding heartbreak if he's seen by-
"Oi, Power! Where'd you go!?" Denji shouts.
"In here!" Power shouts. "I have captured some sort of freak! He is familiar!"
Terror wells up within Aki. It tells him to fight, to find a way to run, to get out before Denji can reach him and see him like this. The impulse is outweighed by the sensible part of him, which tells him that it's far too late to run. He can already hear Denji running toward them. There's no way that he'll be able to get away fast enough to avoid being seen.
He goes limp, stares up at the sky, allows himself to sink a little deeper into the garbage, and tries not to acknowledge the selfish, irrational, hopeful voice in the back of his mind that is happy about this.
"No shit!?" Denji's voice cries. "Does he look like an a-"
Aki hears the sound of someone vaulting into the dumpster. He feels the way the garbage bags shift under the weight of a new person. He hears the garbled choking sound that Denji abruptly makes, somewhere between a gasp and a cry. He hears the thud and feels the movement as he falls to his knees. All of this is unavoidable. What is does avoid is seeing his expression, keeping his gaze locked stubbornly on the sky.
However, it is impossible to avoid hearing his strangled whisper of, "Aki?"
"Aki!?" Power parrots.
Suddenly, the sight of the cloudy blue sky is blocked out by Power's face. She peers down in open befuddlement, her nose only a few centimeters away from his.
Aki closes his eyes and wishes he could disappear. He wishes that he was someone else. He wishes that he could grab onto them, apologize for everything, and never let go again.
"I thought Aki was a human?" Power asks. A finger pokes at his temple, right beside his eye.
"He was," Denji croaks. "But there was... Power, you said you know his scent? He's really... this isn't all some... you're sure you know him?"
"He is the one I smelled the other night," Power confirms.
Denji inches forward with a chorus of shifting plastic and crushed rubbish. He brushes against the rifle in the process, and there's a moment where he pauses while Aki tries not to flinch. A second later, he's moving again. He's inches away from his head when he asks, "Aki? Is it really you?"
Aki doesn't want to open his eyes, isn't sure that he can bear to see how Denji's looking at him, but he finds that he can't keep them closed. With a faint, labored sigh, he opens inhuman eyes and murmurs, "Hello, Denji."
It's the wrong thing to say. The instant he says it, he knows that it's the wrong thing to say, that it will give him the wrong ideas. Yet in that very same instant, he finds that he can't bring himself to care.
Denji's eyes are wide and bloodshot. Tears are brimming on their edges and - I've never seen you cry before - he can only recall having seen him cry once before, in a gentle, dying dream. One of his hands reaches out to brush his shoulder, the tips of his fingers trembling.
The instant he makes contact, Denji grabs him, forcing Power to scoot off to the side as he yanks him upright and pulls him into the tightest hug of his life.
Aki doesn't know what to do for a second. Then he feels the dampness where Denji has buried his face in his good shoulder. Without thinking, he wraps his arm around him, holding him as he shakes and sobs. He doesn't say anything, for he doesn't want to say anything that might turn out to be a lie, but for a moment, it feels close to something that he had been convinced that he would never feel again.
Because he doesn't have the right to feel it.
Distantly, he realizes that Denji is wearing one of Aki's shirts.
"H-How is this happening," Denji chokes out, and the moment shatters.
Aki lowers his arm. Denji pulls his head back up, and he knows he's looking at him, staring, but he can't bring himself to look back.
"Can we get out of the dumpster?" he asks off to the side.
"Are you gonna run again?" Denji retorts, managing to infuse a hint of stubborn irritation into his tone even though his voice is nasal and shaking.
"He would be a fool to do so. If he does, I shall return him to the garbage receptacle," Power proudly declares.
"I won't run," Aki sighs.
There's no point in running at this point. It's already too late, there is no avoiding what's going to happen next.
"Alright," Denji says. "But if there's any funny business, we're all going right back in."
Aki doesn't know how to respond to that, so he doesn't. He stands up on unsteady legs, rifle pressed tightly to his side, and lowers himself out of the dumpster. The aches in his back and head protest the movement, but they're the least of his problems right now. Around him, he hears Power and Denji do the same. Light, agile, and gun-free, they hit the ground before he lowers himself down.
"Having fun?" Angel's voice calls.
Aki whips his head around to see his companion leaning against the wall a few feet away. In his peripheral vision, Power bristles and demands, "How long have you been there!?"
At the same time, Denji steps forward, points at Angel, and exclaims, "I knew I saw you!"
Angel tilts his head to the side. "Did you?" he asks Denji. Power goes ignored outright.
Aki frowns. "Angel..." What did you do?
Angel meets his gaze. His expression is heavy, but unapologetic. He doesn't say anything. He doesn't need to. I don't want to stand around and watch you self-destruct.
Denji throws his arms in the air. "Y'know what? Whatever." He whirls around to face Aki with a serious expression. The whisper of hopeful joy peeking through and tear tracks shimmering on his cheeks make it painful to behold. "What happened?"
Aki knows that he should look at him. He owes it to him to at least look him in the eyes as he crushes his hopes. However, when he opens his mouth, no sound comes out. Ultimately, he ends up looking away.
"Turns out devils only lose their memories when they reincarnate on earth," he says hollowly. "We were able to get out of hell without dying."
Angel makes a noise that's someone between a scoff and disapproval.
Aki looks his way, eyes wide and pleading.
Angel stares at him for a moment, sighs, and looks away. The sight makes Aki's chest twinge with something akin to guilt, but also assures him that he isn't going to do or say anything to make this conversation harder.
Meanwhile, Denji murmurs, "Oh," soft and confused. Then, bright with realization, "Oh. So because you were turned into a fiend, when you died, you-"
"No."
"No?"
Aki doesn't want to look at him as he says this next part. He doesn't want to watch Denji's expression crumble or see the light leave his eyes. But guilt has made a home in his heart. It reminds him of his due to the dead, the people he killed. It is his existence that is causing this heartache. The least he can do is take responsibility for it.
Denji and Power are both staring at him with blatant confusion. That confusion only worsens when he says, "I'm not really Aki. I have his memories and look like him-" Mostly. "- maybe I even act like him. But I'm not. I'm-" The thing that ruined his life. "-Not him. I can't be."
A heavy silence hangs in the air, but the devil that shouldn't be calling himself Aki's heart pounds loud enough that it practically drowns it out. He aches to look away, but instead forces himself to watch as Power and Denji turn their heads to stare at each other.
"'Tis nonsensical," Power mutters.
"...No," Denji says. There's a strange quality to his voice, something slow and careful and cautious that doesn't sound like any Denji he remembers, yet is undeniably there. He turns back to him and says, "You're the Gun Devil, right? And Aki Hayakawa can't be the Gun Devil."
The devil who isn't sure that he can stop calling himself Aki should be glad to hear that. Denji sounds like he understands, or might understand. He'll understand someday, at the very least. That's a good thing and he should be relieved. Instead, he feels a traitorous ache and a crushing shame that nearly takes his breath away. He still manages to say, "Right."
"And the Gun Devil did all sorts of terrible shit."
He understands. He understands and it's the best thing that Aki could possibly hope for, but right now, he finds himself unable to speak entirely, so he settles for a nod.
"So... You should try to make amends. And you can do that by coming with us."
At first, Aki isn't sure that he heard right. It's the potent mixture of shock and confusion coursing through him that gives him the ability to ask, "What?"
"Come with us!" Denji repeats, an unyielding intensity bleeding into his voice. Stepping forward, he continues, "You want to make up for all the shit you did in your past life, right? Well, you can do that by doing what I tell you. I dunno if you've heard, but I'm pretty busy being a superhero these days. Having you around would give me more time to save people and shit, which basically means you're saving people."
"Denji, that's not-"
"You have Aki's memories, right? That means you're probably good at cleaning. Which is good, 'cause I'm sure not. Nayuta'd probably like you, so you could help with her too. And the dogs. You could-"
"You could cook!" Power interrupts, grinning wildly. "Aki was supposed to be a good cook, and half of Denji's attempts come out foul."
Aki's eyes are burning. He tries to blink it away, but the feeling only worsens.
"Yeah! And you can-" Denji pauses, swallowing heavily. "You can look out for me and Powy. You can yell at us when we're being reckless or irresponsible and stop us from doing stupid things and getting in trouble."
Fresh tears spill past Aki's eyes. He refuses to acknowledge them as he says, voice hoarse and croaking, "I don't think you understand."
"No, I don't think you understand." Denji's own eyes are glistening, but he squares his shoulders and straightens himself out. "I'm not gonna leave you alone until you say yes. I got Powy to come home with me, I know I can wear you down."
Power nods gravely. "'Tis true, he is very stubborn."
"Denji..."
"You were just in a dumpster," Angel cuts in.
Aki blinks, turning to face Angel, who's still leaning against the wall. "What?"
"You were just inside a dumpster. And we don't have a shower."
"Yeah!" Denji exclaims, the heaviness in his voice turning into something bright. It might be obnoxious if not for the warm way it makes Aki's chest ache. "You stink worse than Power right now!"
"You are rancid," Power agrees.
"...You were both in the dumpster as well," Aki points out.
Denji smirks. It's shaky, but he manages it. "Yeah, but we don't smell as bad as you. And we live in a house with warm running water. You're being a stubborn ass, so you're just gonna stink until you come with us."
Aki opens his mouth. Closes it. Wipes his tears and looks away.
Angel sighs. "You know you're going to end up going with them," he points out.
"'Tis inevitable," Power agrees.
...They're not wrong. For all that Aki knows what he should do, not even he can convince himself that it's what he wants to do. He can feel his willpower eroding by the second. However, he still finds the strength to make one last attempt. "I'm not-"
"Yeah, you just said," Denji interrupts. "I'm telling you to come with us anyway."
Aki closes his eyes and shoves aside the tangled mess of feelings constricting his heart. Later. He can deal with those later.
Opening his eyes, he looks back at Denji. "Can Angel come?"
Denji shrugs. "Sure, why not."
Aki looks back at Angel. He nods, but it's the relief on his face that gives Aki the final push to say what he says next.
"...Alright."
Denji and Power smile.