Chapter Text
“Has everyone here had the chance to read through pages 45 to 53 of the textbook?”
A chorus of grunts and similar sounds of affirmation echoed through the classroom.
“Any questions about integration, then?”
Another series of barely intelligible responses followed.
The teacher gave them all a look, one that said he knew they were definitely lying, but also knew he couldn’t get them to admit it.
It was enough to almost make Denji laugh.
The older man hummed before turning to the board, grabbing a stick of chalk and writing something down.
“If that’s the case, then I’m positive no one would have any issues solving this practice problem, right?”
The class was silent now.
The teacher glanced back, scanning the room.
“Do we have a volunteer?”
Everyone tried their best to avoid eye contact, especially Denji.
“Come now, this is an easy one.”
Still nothing.
The man was grinning now, overjoyed that he had caught the students in their lie.
“If no one volunteers, I’ll just have to pick someone.”
God damn it.
Denji was now also looking around the room. Someone needed to go up now. Because if no one did, then the teacher would just—
“All right then. Mr. Hayakawa, why don’t you come up and give this a go?”
Of course.
Whispers broke out. A couple of quiet snickers followed.
Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up. Not like any of you idiots know what you’re doing either.
Denji stood, shoving his hands into his pockets as he dragged himself to the board.
The teacher stood there, extending his hand with a piece of chalk so Denji could attempt the problem. The way he was smiling made it clear that he had no faith in Denji whatsoever and was just waiting to see how he would make a fool of himself.
As if he’d make it easy for him.
“Remember to show your work,” he reminded Denji as the teen swiped the chalk out of his grasp.
Before he went with Plan B, Denji figured he should at least see if it was possible for him to actually do the question.
Maybe he could…
…
Yeah, he had no idea what he was looking at.
Plan B time.
He carefully bought the chalk up to the board, deliberately moving as slowly as possible.
The second it made contact, he squeezed.
The chalk exploded in his grip, snapping with a sharp crack and showering his hand in white dust.
The class burst into laughter.
Denji turned, face perfectly blank.
“Sorry,” he said evenly. “Guess the chalk was old.”
The teacher’s smile twitched.
“…That’s unfortunate. Good thing I have another.”
He picked up a fresh stick and handed it over.
Every eye in the room was on them now.
“Gee, thanks, teach.”
“Of course,” the teacher replied as Denji reached for it. “Just try to be a little more—”
This time, both of their hands were coated in powder.
A cloud of chalk dust hung between them.
Denji blinked.
“Whoops.”
He hummed as he walked down the hall.
All in all, it had been pretty successful.
He avoided actually attempting the question, and he’d managed to drag the teacher down with him. Sure, the guy had sent Denji out of the classroom to find more chalk in retaliation, but if he timed it right, he could turn a five-minute trip into twenty.
Twenty glorious minutes free from math class.
If he was being honest, he didn’t hate math. Out of all his subjects, it was one of his better ones. Sometimes he’d even go as far as calling it fun.
But he’d been busy last weekend. He hadn’t exactly had time to crack open the textbook, with his little side hustles and taking care of—
“Ah, you’re skipping too?!”
He internally groaned before looking over at Power, who had somehow appeared right beside him.
The pink-haired girl grinned wildly, waving a bathroom pass that definitely didn’t belong to any of her classes.
“I ain’t skipping,” Denji clarified. “I’ve gotta grab some supplies, then I’m heading back.”
“Oh, really?” she said. “At the pace you’re going, I wonder if you’ll make it before the bell.”
“Probably,” he admitted. “I’m not skipping. I’m just not in a rush to get back.”
“Foolish,” Power declared. “Just commit to the skipping lifestyle.”
“I’m not skipping,” he repeated. “If I get caught one more time this month, Aki’s gonna kick my ass.”
“Topknot is a total pushover!” she boasted. “He’s not going to do anything!”
Anything to you, Denji thought, wisely keeping it to himself.
“Look, I’m not pushing it, all right? I’ve got after-school plans. I’d prefer to stay on his good side.”
She stared at him for a second before lifting her chin dramatically.
“Wimp.”
He rolled his eyes. “Whatever.”
It was kind of sad, but Power was probably the closest friend he’d ever had. It made sense since they were roommates. Technically siblings if you took the documentation seriously.
Even if he didn’t mind her all that much, everyone else definitely did.
Being associated with her surname basically killed any chance at a normal social life.
Then again, he probably didn’t have much of a shot at one here anyway.
Everyone at this school was weird as hell.
Teachers. Students. Staff.
Even the weirdly hot principal.
Part of the reason he didn’t really mind cutting class early some days.
“Speaking of that,” he said, glancing at her, “why the hell are you skipping?”
“Felt like it.” She shrugged.
“That’s it?”
“Do I require another reason?” she argued. “Is it not sufficient to desire something and act upon it?”
“You’re not gonna learn anything if you keep ditching class.”
“These paltry teachings are beneath me.”
“Aren’t you failing history?”
“The teacher is a creep!”
“Well… yeah,” Denji admitted. “But if you fail, they might actually make you retake the grade.”
“Ridiculous,” she huffed. “You lecturing me on education? What a joke.”
“Hey, I might be dumb, but I’m still passing. You should head to class. Seriously.”
“Huh? So, I must return, but you may loiter freely?”
“For the last time, I’m not skipping!”
A loud cough echoed down the hall, cutting through their argument.
A few meters away, near the supply closet, stood possibly the most annoying girl in the entire school.
“Are you two seriously skipping class again?” Asa Mitaka asked, her hall monitor sash pulled tight across her chest.
She glared at the two, more than familiar with them.
The two of them probably made up half of all her reports.
“Nope,” they said in unison, holding up their passes.
Mitaka stepped closer, inspecting them carefully.
She glanced at Denji’s first.
Then her eyes narrowed at Power’s.
“This is Mr. Tanaka’s bathroom pass.”
“Uh, yeah?” Power said. “What about it?”
“He’s currently looking for it,” Asa replied flatly. “Because someone stole it.”
“Oh.”
Power blinked at her.
“I hope he finds the thief.”
“Are you serious?” she asked.
“About what?”
“Okay. You two are coming with me,” Asa announced, stepping directly in front of them.
She was slightly shorter than Power and nearly a full head shorter than Denji, but her inflated ego seemed to convince her that she was intimidating.
“Huh?” Power balked. “What for?!”
“Because you have Mr. Tanaka’s missing bathroom pass!” she hissed.
“No, I don’t.”
“Yes, you do.”
“No, I don’t.”
“I am not doing this with you,” Asa snapped, visibly livid. “Come with me, or I’m writing you both up.”
“Hold up,” Denji cut in, pointing at himself. “I get Power, but I didn’t do crap. Why am I getting dragged into this?”
The black-haired girl’s eye twitched.
“Because you’re cutting class!”
“Nuh-uh.” He held up his pass. “I’ve gotta grab some chalk. The last batch was old.”
She clicked her tongue, realizing she didn’t technically have anything on him.
“Then why are you with Power?” she pressed.
“’Cuz I ran into her out here?”
“Tis true,” Power confirmed solemnly.
“Agh, fine!” Asa threw her hands up. “Whatever. Power, just come with—”
“Wait!” Power suddenly shouted, making both of them flinch. “Before anything else, just listen!”
They paused.
“…Yeah?” Asa asked cautiously.
Power didn’t answer.
Instead, she spun on her heel and bolted down the hallway.
“What—hey! Get back here—!”
Too late. Power’s footsteps echoed briefly before vanishing around the corner.
Asa stood there, stunned.
“Oh, I am absolutely giving her detention,” she muttered.
“Good luck,” Denji said dryly. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got somewhere to be.”
He made it three steps before she grabbed his arm.
“Oh no you don’t!” she snapped. “You’re coming with me!”
He glanced down at where her hand clutched his sleeve, then back at her face.
If she weren’t such a pain, he might’ve called her cute.
“Why?”
“I need a witness to confirm that Power refused to comply.”
“Yeah, fat chance.” He pulled his arm free. “I’ve got places to be.”
“She’s your sister!” Asa argued. “Take some responsibility for her actions!”
Once again, Denji bit his tongue.
She wasn’t his sister. But that was the story they were sticking with. Way easier than explaining the alternative.
“Yeah, well, I can’t control her. Not my problem.”
He shoved his hands back into his pockets and resumed walking. Asa hurried after him.
“You jerk!” she accused. “You have a moral obligation to help me!”
“I don’t have an obligation to be a snitch!” he shot back.
She ground her teeth.
“This is why no one likes you!”
“Right back at you!”
Denji grinned as her frustrated noises echoed down the hall.
The rest of the school day went fine.
Lunch was the best part, as usual. They ate together with the rest of the group.
It was definitely a… unique mix of people, but who was he to judge? As long as they didn’t bother him or mess with his food, he didn’t care who sat there. Or so he thought.
He and Power obviously ate together, but over the course of the year, a few others had joined them.
The first was a second-year named Beam. As captain of the swim team, you’d think he’d sit with his teammates. But the way he ate was… unsettling. Loud. Aggressive. Almost competitive.
So instead, he’d migrated to the corner table with the Hayakawa’s.
At first, Denji had been a little weirded out when this buff, tan upperclassman plopped down beside them. But after a quick introduction, they were cool.
Aside from constantly promoting the swim team, Beam was all right. Way too energetic for Denji’s taste, but he and Power got along great, mostly because they both talked with their mouths full and at maximum volume.
Denji made a mental note every day to sit slightly out of the splash zone.
The second addition was a second-year girl named Yuko.
One day she came up and referred to them as “the cool kids,” then simply never left.
Denji thought she was kinda cute. But again, too high-energy. Still, she was a little more restrained than Beam and Power. Sometimes she even brought extra snacks and offered them to whoever wanted them.
Which usually meant Denji got them. Unless Beam moved faster.
And finally, his least favorite addition, the third-year “sensation,” Yoshida.
Objectively, Yoshida was probably the most normal one there. Polite. Calm. Well-spoken.
Denji still couldn’t stand him.
The way girls practically threw themselves at him made Denji’s stomach twist. And the way Yoshida just chuckled like it was no big deal made it twist tighter.
Apparently, he only sat with them because it drew less attention during lunch.
Which basically meant he thought they were social camouflage.
Denji had to actively resist the urge to punch him in the mouth most days.
But it wasn’t worth the hassle.
“How were classes?” the raven-haired teen asked casually.
“Ugh!” Yuko groaned. “The worst! I totally flunked that history quiz!”
He tilted his head. “The one on the Meiji Restoration?”
“Yeah!” she said. “I did the readings and everything, but I feel like I maxed out at a 60.”
“I thought it was pretty easy,” Yoshida replied smoothly, taking a bite of his lunch.
Denji rolled his eyes as Yuko giggled.
“Of course you did. Not all of us are as academically blessed.”
“Well,” Yoshida shrugged, “we all have our strengths.”
“Denji’s is getting no play,” Power added instantly, stuffing her mouth with food right after.
“Dude,” Denji muttered as Yuko burst into laughter.
“Chin up, Denji!” Beam boomed. “I’m sure when it’s your time, you’ll find someone!”
“Thanks, man, but I’m not, like, worried about it.”
“You’re not?” Yoshida asked, faintly amused.
“I’m not,” Denji said firmly, a vein threatening to pop in his forehead. “It’s not like I can’t talk to girls or anything. There’s just… no one I’m into right now.”
“That so?” Yuko hummed.
“Yeah,” he confirmed, biting into his apple.
If he was being honest, he still wasn’t completely over the last time.
Sue him, but…
That shit hurt.
A lot.
Lunch carried on, and he focused on his food.
Yeah.
He was good.
Single life was where it was at.
…
Yup.
They took the bus home, sitting in the back, away from the rest of the populace who avoided them like the plague.
Not that Denji cared. It meant more room to stretch out.
Once they reached their stop, it only took a few minutes to walk home.
It still felt weird calling it that. But Denji figured he’d been pulling his weight.
They unlocked the door. Denji reminded Power to take her shoes off at the entrance as she immediately bolted upstairs, claiming she had something urgent to attend to.
He knew that was code for number two.
So he headed to the kitchen.
There was a sheet of paper stuck to the fridge. He tore it off and gave it a quick scan while rummaging through the fridge for last night’s leftovers.
Defrost the pork. Clean the downstairs bathroom. Move the laundry from the dryer…
Pretty easy.
He could knock that out in under an hour.
It was just past three. If he aimed to be done by four, that gave him plenty of time for business.
He finished scrubbing the dishes and dried them off with a spare towel before stacking them neatly away.
“Heads up,” he called. “I’m gonna be back pretty late. Got work till like nine.”
If he moved fast, he’d make it back just in time for dinner.
“Why do you even have a job?” Power asked, lounging at the table and watching him work. “All you have to do is ask Topknot for money.”
“I don’t like using other people’s stuff like that,” Denji replied. “Makes me feel like I owe ’em.”
“Didn’t you steal from Mr. Bridge’s wallet once and use it to order us food?”
“That’s different,” he said without hesitation. “He had it coming.”
Power considered that.
“I suppose.”
He left as soon as he finished, slinging his backpack over one shoulder and picking up the pace. The timing paid off, the city bus pulled up just as he reached the stop.
He squeezed inside, grabbing one of the overhead handles and staring absently at the scratched metal ceiling.
The overlapping chatter and the bus’s broken speaker crackling out muffled announcements made him want to get off as soon as possible.
About twenty minutes later, he stepped off, breathing in the familiar city smog he’d grown up in.
No time to reminisce. He had places to be.
He wove through the crowd, cutting around slow walkers and slipping between groups. After ducking through a narrow alleyway for a shortcut, he arrived at his destination.
He pushed the door open. A small bell chimed overhead.
The mustached man at the register glanced up as Denji headed straight for the back to change.
“Your shift doesn’t start till five, kid.”
“You seriously complaining that I’m early?” Denji shot back.
The shop owner sighed loudly.
“I can’t pay you for working when you aren’t scheduled,” the man said.
“Then just let me leave early if you care so much,” Denji replied, pushing open the workers-only door.
“Then I can’t pay you for a full shift!”
Denji scoffed as the door shut behind him.
He didn’t mind the job.
Not like he had much of a choice. It was one of the only places willing to hire a student.
That didn’t mean he liked it.
He was the boss’s only employee. The meager pay of a 1,000 yen an hour turned most people away. But to Denji, it was decent.
At twenty hours a week, the monthly total added up to something workable.
Sure, working in a dingy little convenience store like this wasn’t exactly thrilling. But it was steady.
And steady meant money.
So, he put on his uniform, brushed himself off, and stepped back out to clock in.
He wished he could say something noteworthy happened.
But, of course, nothing did.
His boss slunk off into his private quarters, leaving Denji to run the store for the rest of the shift, restocking shelves and ringing people up whenever someone wandered in.
Sometimes a dozen customers would trickle in one by one.
Other times, no one came for what felt like hours.
It was mind-numbing work. It took everything in him not to fall asleep standing up.
Thankfully, when he checked the clock and saw it was five minutes to nine and the store was empty, he decided that was good enough.
“Hey, old man!” he called. “I’m closing up, all right?”
A muffled shout from the back passed as approval.
Denji stepped away from the register, the only task his boss bothered handling during the day, and grabbed a broom. He swept the aisles, pushed the dust into a neat pile, and dumped it.
After that, he grabbed a trash bag and tossed in any expired or nearly expired products.
One quick trip to the dumpster later, he was pretty sure he was done.
He locked the front door and noticed the old man already counting the day’s earnings at the counter.
“Another slow one,” the man muttered.
“Good thing you don’t gotta pay me much,” Denji offered.
The old man grunted.
Denji headed to the workers-only room. A quick change out of his uniform, and he slipped out the back door, locking it behind him.
The shop doubled as the old man’s home. He had a little room in the back where he holed up whenever Denji worked.
Must be nice, Denji thought. Clock out, take three steps, and you’re in bed.
Meanwhile, Denji had to start the nightly trek through the city.
During the day, it was only somewhat dangerous.
As long as you didn’t look like an easy mark, your chances of getting mugged were low.
At night?
Everyone looked like an easy mark.
Unless you ran with a gang.
He didn’t exactly have that privilege anymore.
So, he kept to the walls. Head down. Ears open.
The local thugs weren’t subtle. They roamed in loose packs, loud and careless, harassing whoever crossed their path.
Which meant Denji usually heard them before they heard him.
And even if they did spot him, he was faster than most.
That was one of the few things he had going for him.
Sirens wailed somewhere in the distance. Traffic hummed constantly. Denji filtered through the noise, listening for anything out of place.
He was about five minutes from the bus stop.
So far, nothing.
If things stayed quiet, he might actually catch the first bus home.
If everything went—
“—Leave me alone already!”
“Not until you pay up!”
…
Fuck.
Denji stopped mid-step.
The first voice was sharp. Panicked. Definitely a girl.
The second was rough. Male.
And close.
…Well, that sucked.
Not like he could do anything about it.
He hoped she didn’t have much on her as he rounded the corner and saw—
Oh, god damn it.
A lanky skinhead was roughly shaking a girl as she clung to a bag in her arms, pinning her against the alley wall.
He couldn’t make out many details, but she looked young.
Around his age.
What the hell was someone like her doing here at this hour?
“Just cough it up, bitch!”
“I changed my mind!” she cried. “I’ll go! Please, just—”
“That’s not how it works! I’m giving you one last warning before I take what I deserve!”
The two still hadn’t noticed Denji. If he really tried, he could probably just slip past.
He probably should.
The guy looked insane.
Probably had a shank.
Or a gun.
And Denji had school tomorrow.
Definitely not worth it.
…
Fine.
He tightened his backpack straps.
“Hey, dude!” he called out.
The man turned toward him. The girl averted her gaze, pressing herself harder against the wall.
“I don’t think she’s interested,” Denji said.
“Get the fuck out of here, kid,” the man snapped.
“Wanna come with?” Denji offered. “The bus is about to pass if you’re worried about walking.”
“I mean it,” the man continued, “I’m going easy on her because she’s a woman. You, though? I’d kick your ass real good.”
“No need for that,” Denji said, walking closer. “I’m sure we can come to an understanding.”
The man finally stepped away from the girl. From the corner of his eye, Denji saw her glance at him.
“You got 8,000 yen on you?” the guy asked, eyeing him.
“I mean, prolly,” Denji replied. “But it’s mine.”
“Maybe it was,” the man sneered. “But you really pissed me off. So, cough up what you’ve got, or I’m gonna take it.”
“How you gonna do that?”
“By beating the—”
Denji had taken some self-defense lessons from Aki whenever they both had free time. A lot of it involved Aki pinning or tossing him around, but over time, he’d learned a few things.
The most important?
The first hit matters.
Once a fight properly starts, people get cautious. They guard up. They move more. It gets harder to land something clean.
So, you start strong.
As the guy was mid-sentence, Denji snapped his leg forward directly into his crotch.
The man screamed, folding over himself. Denji immediately followed up, swiping hard at his face and knocking him sideways as he rushed past.
He grabbed the girl, who was still frozen against the wall.
“Move it, lady!” he shouted, tugging her along.
He didn’t wait for a response. For a split second, he felt some resistance. Then in the very next moment her legs started moving with his.
“You bastard!” the man howled behind them. “I’ll kill both of you!”
Maybe it was out of place, but Denji laughed.
The girl said nothing.
He took a sharp turn, then another, bursting out onto a busy street.
Cars honked as he zigzagged through traffic, tossing a half-hearted apologetic wave at the drivers he cut off.
And he didn’t slow down.
Finally, after he was sure they’d shaken him off, Denji paused, glancing back just in case.
“Jeez, lady,” he muttered, “What’d you do to get that guy so worked up?”
He gave a toothy grin toward the girl he was holding onto, and then it fell flat.
Asa Mitaka stared back at him.
“…Oh.”
Her expression was unreadable, and she quickly turned away.
He loosened his grip and stepped back.
“Uh, didn’t notice—”
“Thank you,” she said, cutting him off.
Denji pursed his lips. What was he even supposed to say right now?
Deciding that anything was better than the silence, he started talking.
“You good?”
“I guess,” she scoffed.
“That’s good,” he said, patting his sides nervously.
She still wasn’t looking at him, her free hand clutching the bag.
It wasn’t a purse, just a wrapped plastic bag, like the ones from the shop he worked at.
Was that what the guy had been after?
“What’s… uh, what’s in the bag?”
“Nothing,” she said a little too quickly.
Denji blinked.
Part of him thought he should just let it go. But he’d gotten her away. Surely he was owed something, an explanation at least.
“You sure?” he asked.
“Yes,” she said.
“…I don’t believe that.”
“What?” she asked.
“Sorry, but I’ve got a couple questions,” he admitted. “Like… what’re you doing out here by yourself?”
“That’s… that’s none of your business, alright!” she snapped.
“Isn’t it, though?” Denji pressed. “I just kicked a guy in the nuts for you. I kinda wanna know why.”
She stiffened, still avoiding eye contact.
“Look,” she began, “thanks for the save, but I don’t have to tell you anything. Now if you can—”
Maybe he was taking it too far. But he couldn’t help himself. He had an idea what was going on, but he needed confirmation.
Without warning, he snatched the bag from her hands and tore it open.
Just as he was about to pull whatever was inside out, a sudden force slammed into him.
“What the hell are you doing?!” Asa demanded, forcing him onto an awkward knee.
“The hell’s in the bag?!” Denji shot back, holding it over his head as she wrestled to bring his arm down.
“It’s none of your business!” she spat, backing off for a moment, then kicked him square in the stomach.
“W-where the hell were these moves before?!” he shouted as she tackled him again.
“Shut up, and give me—!”
The bag slipped from Denji’s grasp and splatted against the ground.
The contents spilled out.
They both froze, jaws dropping as Denji recognized the packeted green substance.
“…Holy shit,” he muttered. “How much… is that an eighth?”
She shoved him, and he tumbled to the ground. Before he could react, she snatched the small bag.
Wordlessly, she strode to a nearby trash can, opened it, and dropped the drugs inside, slamming the lid shut.
Then she turned and stormed off, not even glancing back.
Denji finally snapped out of his shock and scrambled to his feet.
“W-wait! Hold up! Just… chill out for a sec!”
He jogged to catch up, but before he could grab her shoulder, she had already spun around.
“Leave me alone,” she said firmly.
“Relax!” he called, holding his hands up. “I’m not judging! Trust me! I just wanted—”
He trailed off as he noticed tears streaking her cheeks.
“I-I don’t do that,” she whispered. “I’ve never… smoked… or anything… I just—”
Her lip quivered.
“I thought… I changed my mind… I’m not… I’m not a junkie…”
She raised her arm, wiping her tears into her sleeve.
Fuck.
He really should not have done that.
“H-hey,” he tried again. “I didn’t say anything, a-and I don’t think you’re a… junkie or whatever. And I mean, even if you were, I wouldn’t, like—”
She dropped her arm and scowled at him, cutting him off.
“Just stop talking!” she yelled. “Someone like you wouldn’t get it, alright?! I’m not… I’m not like… this! I’m a good citizen! I just…”
She clenched her fists so tight her knuckles whitened, and her gaze dropped to the ground.
“I’m a good person.”
He probably should’ve been mad at the implication.
He was a little, actually.
He wasn’t the one out here at night trying to score drugs, and yet somehow, he was the delinquent.
For as long as he could remember, she had always had it out for him and Power.
Yeah, maybe they deserved it sometimes, but this… this was different.
If she weren’t crying, he might’ve joked about it. Instead, he shifted nervously, unsure of what to do.
“I’ve never done it either,” he said finally, his voice softer than usual.
A pause.
“…What?”
“Weed,” he admitted, glancing away. “Or, uh… marijuana. I don’t smoke. Not even cigarettes.”
She peeked up at him through wet lashes, but he couldn’t meet her eyes.
“Smells bad,” he added, forcing a shrug. “Yeah, it stinks. Heard it rots your teeth too. Mine are already a mess, so I gotta take extra care.”
Another sniff reached him.
“Oh,” she murmured.
The rustle of her sleeve drew his attention back, and he finally looked at her again.
“Guess that makes me a worse person than you,” she mumbled, her voice trembling.
“Does it?” he asked, tilting his head. “I mean… why did you even come out here to buy it?”
Her shoulders slumped, and she let her arm drop. Her lips pressed together, and she finally admitted the truth.
“I read that it makes you happy,” she whispered. “That you don’t think bad thoughts and you just… I don’t know. I wanted to see if it was… real, I guess.”
Denji thought about it. He’d seen how ‘happy’ it made people. Sometimes they had a ton of fun. Other times, he’s never seen people more miserable.
“I… kinda get that,” he said slowly, stepping a little closer, though careful not to crowd her. “But it can mess you up if you ain’t careful. Seen it happen too many times.”
Her eyes flicked to his, a mix of shame and curiosity, and she shivered slightly.
“I figured as much,” She said, her voice soft.
“What made you change your mind?” he asked.
“…It’s illegal,” she muttered.
“Yeah, I guess it is,” he agreed, scratching the back of his head.
She shivered again, and Denji realized she was probably cold.
“Uh, hey,” he spoke up, “want me to, uh, walk you home?”
Smooth, Denji. Smooth.
She blinked, then shook her head.
“No, it’s late. You should head home; my place is far—”
“Well, that’s why I’m offering,” he cut in. “Don’t know if you noticed, but it’s dangerous out here.”
She gave him a look that could melt steel.
“You don’t have to,” she stated. “You’ve done enough.”
“How about this then,” he offered, “I’ll follow you, and if you really don’t want me to come, you can just give me another nasty kick.”
She kept staring at him, evaluating him.
“It’s a, uh,” he added, snapping his fingers, “you called it a moral obligation, right?”
Asa looked him up and down, then sighed.
“…Fine,” she said, turning around. “I recognize this area. My apartment’s about a twenty-minute walk.”
Denji jogged up to walk beside her, and she eyed him curiously.
“I’ll follow you right beside,” he claimed.
She faced forward once more, and the pair began to walk in silence.
“Thanks,” she said quietly, catching him off guard.
“No prob,” he replied.
He knew he was definitely going to get chewed out by Aki once he got home, but it was whatever.
He probably would’ve done the same thing if he were in her shoes…
…Actually, probably not. Aki would’ve done a better job.
No point thinking about that, though.
He was gonna make sure she got home safe, no matter what. He owed her that much for making her cry at least.
The man rounded the corner, grabbing his knees as he panted.
Damned runts.
How the hell did they move that fast?
As soon as he caught them, he was going to—
A sudden noise deeper in the alley made him snap upright.
He grinned.
He was still on their trail.
Knife in hand, he sprinted deeper into the maze of city corridors, the distant horns and sirens fading behind him.
Perfect.
Once he caught them, they wouldn’t be able to call anyone for help.
Another turn, and he froze.
Dead end.
He cursed, scanning the darkness. Nearly pitch black. Were they hiding?
“Kiddos!” he barked. “Are you nearby?!”
A faint scurrying answered him. Frustrated, he kicked a dumpster. The clang echoed through the alley, rats scattering in every direction.
“Just come out, alright?!” he shouted. “I promise I’ll go easy!”
Then, another sound behind him. He spun, knife raised and stopped himself from lunging forward.
A figure stood a few meters ahead, swallowed in shadows.
Only one person.
Did the girl get ditched?
“Are you the guy who kicked my nuts?!” he demanded.
The figure didn’t answer. It stepped forward.
The man wasn’t sure why, considering he had a weapon and the other guy seemingly didn’t, but he took a step back.
“If you’re not, just say it, man!” he yelled. “Otherwise, I’ll fuck you up too!”
The figure didn’t respond, shambling forward with unnerving calm.
He grunted, forcing himself to hold his ground.
“Say something, jackass!”
Then, from behind him, a voice whispered.
“Run, mister.”
He spun, swinging his knife at the darkness. It sounded like a kid, but there was no one there. No one but him and…
The figure stepped fully into the faint light.
It was a man.
His clothes were torn, dirtied, smeared with some dark substance, but that barely registered.
He couldn’t look away from the face.
Boils covered the skin. Hair hung in greasy clumps. And the left side… it was gone.
Bone was exposed, with shreds of skin barely clinging to the skull.
It was at this point he realized the man was covered in blood.
His screams echoed into the night sky, but no one was around to hear them.