Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Time is the essence, Time is the season
Time ain't no reason, Got no time to slow
Time everlasting, Time to play b sides
Time ain't on my side, Time I'll never know

-Burning for you by Blue Öyster Cult, 1981

“We’re both gonna die in like two minutes.”

A warm breeze rippled through the grass, making Angel’s hair dance lazily around his head. He could feel a storm coming up in the distance. The ground underneath his stretched-out body carried the vibrations of fleeing Devils up his spine and there was a metal taste under his tongue. “Sucks for us I guess.”

“Right?” The future Devil waved his arms energetically. “I don’t want to go back up again. Those humans’ll make me do so much work!”

Angel didn’t ever bother with a response; he simply closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths. The smell of decaying leather made him turn his head away from the Future Devil, who was now leaning over his face.

“Do you want me to read your future? You’ll forget about it in two minutes anyway.”

The wind started howling around them, small pieces of debris dislodging themselves from the ground and hitting the back of Angel’s hand.

“I don’t care.”

“I’ll take this as consent.” The Future Devil grabbed Angel’s shoulders and yanked his upper body into his stomach. Angel blinked at the stale-looking eye inside, which scrutinized him for a second, before he was let go and fell back into the grass with a soft thud. “That’s fucked up, bro.”

“Is it that bad?” Angel hummed, stretching both his arms behind his head again.

The Future Devil sat next to him, clearly wanting more attention than he had just received. “You and everybody you'll love will die.”

Finally, something in Angel stirred, making his breath hitch for just a second and his eyes open. “I’ll love somebody?”

“I’m just as surprised as you are.” The Future Devil didn’t exactly have a mouth, but his eyes squinted in what seemed to be a grin. “Want to make a contract? I can change your future up a bit.”

Thunder crackled in the distance, accompanied by a faint scream of terror.

“Why-”

“Because the future rules!”

The storm cloud now was just above them, filling up the sky with complete darkness. Well, darkness might not have been the right word, because things still existed in darkness – this was pure nothingness, the fabric of space and time swallowed up, leaving not even a vacuum in its place.

“What do I have to give to you in return?” The nothingness expanded over Angel’s head, spreading in a downwards spiral towards him.

The Future Devil followed Angel’s gaze and lay down next to him in the dry grass. “We’ll see when the time comes.”

“Deal.”

And then, both the Angel Devil and the Future Devil died.

In the exact same moment, Angel started to exist again. He woke up with sand in his hair, salty waves rippling across his skin and the feeling of a massive hangover.

This life would be quite an eventful one.

Chapter Text

Well, your fingers weave quick minuets,
Speak in secret alphabets.
I light another cigarette.
Learn to forget, learn to forget

-Soul Kitchen by the Doors, 1967

The metal straps of the bench dug into the tendon of Angel’s left wing. He kept adjusting his weight, not that it helped much. Human chairs were hardly ever comfortable for Angel; his wings were always in the way. At least with stools and normal chairs he could drape them along his body, but benches like these?

Angel gave a little sigh of annoyance and ceased in his attempts to find a snug position. Too much effort.

How long was this going to take? Since he had been called to the office and had to wait on this torture device of a bench, the sun reflection through the corridor windows had traveled all the way from his left boot to the downmost button of his suit. The rays of fading sunlight heated up his hand, making it prickly but Angel was too stubborn to move it out of the way.

Finally, the door in front of him swung open and a woman greeted him with a pleasant expression on her perfect face. She brushed some invisible hair strands out of her eyes and made a gesture towards the inside of the room: “Sorry for the wait, please come in, Angel”

Her voice was serene and as sweet as honey, but still – it made Angel’s skin crawl. He couldn’t pinpoint what exactly it was – but he did not like Makima. Maybe it was because she made him work in this stupid position, maybe it was because she forced him to wear those ridiculous suits, maybe it was because she kept looking at him like a cat might look at a wounded bird.

Angel slowly got up, dragging his feet across the floor into the office Makima had just emerged from. He hadn’t been in it very often, but it had astounded him every time he entered; How could a human office look so perfect? Every little piece of paper neatly stacked, every dust particle cleansed. Angel wouldn’t be surprised if Makima got herself a protractor and made sure her desk was at a perfect 90-degree angle every morning.

This time something unexpected greeted him in the bright room. Angel froze in the doorframe, only a slight narrowing of his eyes giving away his distaste. Orderly sitting on the edge of an office chair was a young man with black hair, which he wore in the most laughable fashion; A high topknot that made him look like a black-haired pineapple.

The human sitting in front of him must be Aki Hayakawa. Angel had heard a lot about the prodigy lately. The young Hunter that just didn’t seem to die – a notorious Devil-hater that emerged out of nowhere and earned Makima’s favor in a few years.

The real-life version was disappointing. Angel could’ve killed the human within a few minutes. He probably would’ve done him a favor too, considering the dead look in his eyes.  

Aki coldly looked Angel up and down, his eyebrows tightly furrowed, casting a deep shadow over his face. His posture was so stiff – if Angel hadn’t known any better, he would have assumed the human had a literal stick up his ass. Maybe he did? The Angel Devil was smart enough not to ask.

Instead, he folded his arms across his chest and looked over at Makima, who tilted her head slightly. “Why don’t you step in?”

Angel suppressed a sigh as he reluctantly treaded inside the cold room. He took a seat without asking for permission, as far away from the Devil Hunter as possible. Angel tried his best to ignore the black-haired human even though a burning sensation on the side of his face told him that he was being seized up himself.

“So, Angel, this is Aki. He is one of the best around here.” There was a slight pause as if Angel was supposed to comment on that. Great job! You are good at murdering my species, here’s a sticker and a pat on the back.

“Sadly, Aki’s last patrol partner passed away yesterday.”

“He was killed.” The first thing Angel heard the Hunter say. He turned his head in his direction and was met with a full-on stare.

Humans tended to do that; it probably had a lot to do with the halo on top of his head. The golden accessory attracted a lot of attention—and fear—once they realized there were, in fact, no plastic strings attached to Angel’s scalp.

This time, however, the stare seemed… reproachful? As if Angel himself were responsible for the demise of some untalented meat sack. “What? I didn’t kill him.”

“As if that makes a difference.”

Angel thought about that for a moment. The Devil Hunter was right, actually. If it had benefited him in any way, he would’ve killed the human without a second thought. “I guess not.”

Something must’ve been wrong with that statement, judging by the angry scrunch, Aki’s face made. Before the human could act upon his pent-up emotions, Makima gave a sweet little cough. “Boys, please. Calm down, the both of you.”

Angel felt a cold pull on his neck and quickly relaxed all of his muscles, staring down at the table in front of him.

“As I said, Aki is in need of a new partner. And so are you, Angel.”

The last couple of months, ever since he had been captured by Makima and forced to be a Devil-Hunter, he had changed partners like others changed clothes. Each one of those idiotic abominations of nature had only taken one look at him, heard about his abilities, and gave up on the spot. Some of them even threatened to quit if their partner wasn’t changed immediately.

Not that Angel minded. No. He despised those weak meat sacks just as much as they despised him, maybe even more. He happily sat by and watched as every one of them complained to Makima about him. Never did he correct them when they accused him of trying to touch them when they weren’t paying attention (he had standards, thank you very much). Never did he object when they accused him of liking Devils better than humans – because they were correct.

He thought that this lack of work ethics and distaste of work in general would lead to him operate alone or even better: Not having to do anything at all. But Makima kept trying.

“You paired up a human with a being like him?” Finally somebody who understood Angel’s feelings. How could anyone put the Angel Devil on the same level as a human?

“There are, in fact, multiple advantages to Human-Devil cooperation. It’s a new concept I’ve put in place and Angel is one of the first participants – You see, he holds very little hostility towards humans.”

No way. Makima was lying through her teeth. Angel? Not hostile? Had anyone in this building heard of his kill-count? Aki seemed just as unbelieving, judging by the fact that his mouth and eyes nearly disappeared in a thin line as he scrutinized Angel. “I’ve heard about his abilities. Killing just by touch? He is too dangerous to be left alive, if you ask me.”

“I believe you especially could benefit from a partner that isn’t quite as… fragile as us humans. Of course, Angel isn’t quite willing to cooperate yet but I’m sure you could get him to help us. I’m sure you can tame him.”  

Tame? Angel wasn’t a fucking horse! At least there was no way that human would agree to this...

“I understand, Miss Makima. I will do my best.”

No fucking way.

Angel’s neck hurt from how fast he snapped around to the Devil Hunter. His face was bland and his shoulders relaxed. He just looked at Makima as if she was the only source of light in the entire building.

Makima put her chin on her folded hands, keeping a keen eye on both Aki and Angel. The sweetest smile started spreading over her face. “Congratulations, you’ve got a new partner, Angel!”

Angels’ lips opened slightly, he wanted to say something in protest, but all he managed was a small sound from the back of his throat.

Angel had to stop this from happening.

He looked at Makima pleadingly, trying to imitate the expression of the stray puppy he had encountered in the streets once who had tried to get a bite of his Hotdog. Unlike Angel who had at least considered giving the animal a bit of crust, Makima wasn’t phased in the slightest. The opposite was true; the corners of her mouth twitched up as if she was entertained.

“I’d rather work with literally anyone else. Just send some of the last humans back, I promise I’ll try harder.”

Makima shook her head, the man next to the Angel Devil giving an offended scoff. “No. I gave you your chance. Five of them, actually. Now I give you this last one. If you fail to do your job, even working with a highly diligent man like Aki, I’ll have no other choice than to eliminate you, do you understand?”

Angel shrugged. He did not care at all if he was going to be killed. Everything was better than having to work – having to work under the heel of a ‘highly diligent man like Aki’ on top.

Why he disliked this particular Devil Hunter to this extent? It was the look the human gave Angel. His eyes, unlike most Devil Hunters Angel had met, hadn’t any fear in them. Fear was at least an emotion Angel could understand, any human sentiment beyond that was just too complicated.

“I’m sure we are going to get along splendidly,” out of the corner of Angel’s eye, he could make out the Devil Hunter staring at him.

“Please?”, a word Angel hated just as much as ‘sorry’ but still used to his advantage if necessary.

But the battle had been lost the moment Angel had set foot in this damned office. Makima shooed him off with a flick of her delicate fingers: “Now, now. Please do get along, I’m sure you’ll manage just fine.”

Aki got up and gave Makima a quick bow. “You can count on me.”

Angel got his blandest face on as he got up and numbly stepped towards the door – at least he shouldn’t give Makima the satisfaction of seeing his annoyance.

She waved at them before turning her attention to the files that were spread neatly in front of her: “You’re going on patrol tomorrow at eight, I wish you luck.”

And with that, Aki and Angel stepped outside the room and into the corridor. The Devil glanced over at the uncomfortable bench he had been sitting on before; Somehow, he wished he could go back to being perched there, idly wasting his time by staring at the concrete wall. Maybe he should do just that? The way back to the basement was awfully long…

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” The human still stared at Angel, turning his torso towards him as if he was expecting something. Luckily or unluckily, he didn’t try to shake Angel’s hand like some had tried before him- that was usually the time to freak out.

“It’s not,” Angel stared at the other man’s features. What was going on behind them? No idea. He couldn’t read human’s faces at all. It was like trying to decipher what a bug was thinking just by looking at it: You could see some motions and patterns that indicated an emotion, but it was mostly impossible. “You’re Aki Hayakawa.”

The other man clenched his jaw and a small vein popped out on his temple: “Yes, we’ve established this.”

“You hate Devils.” Angel folded his arms across his chest, “why are you being teamed up with me?”

Aki finally looked at Angel, his face made a funny movement, which Angel once again couldn’t read. “No idea. But we might as well just make the best out of it. You for one have to, or else you’ll be killed.”

“You must’ve fucked up real bad at your job if you are demoted like this, huh?”

This had not been the smartest thing to say, Angel realized. He did so a few seconds too late.

The human’s body went even stiffer than usually and his eyes widened as he stared at Angel. Then his fingers curled into fists and the human punched Angel square in the stomach. This happened so fast, Angel didn’t even have the time to blink before the dull pain caught up with him.

Angel hated pain. It wasn’t a foreign concept to him; he knew somewhere in the back of his mind that he must’ve been in pain before Makima found him. A few cuts here and there or a dull ache in his chest, maybe caused by a poison of some sort.

This was new. Humans didn’t punch Angel, they threatened him, flashed guns in his direction, chained him. They did everything from a distance and that was the way Angel liked it. The sudden hurt under his ribcage felt wrong, way too personal, way too reckless. A cold wave of hatred came over the Devil.  

Tumbling backwards, his knees hit the metal of the bench. He prepared himself for the impact but before he could fall, he was caught by the tie on his suit. His face was inches away from the human’s – he could’ve counted the fine hair of his brows or lashes.

“If you want to keep working with me you better watch your mouth, Devil.” The voice sounded pretty calm, but something in the Devil Hunter’s eyes made the hair on Angel’s neck stand up. He seemed just as pissed off as him.

“Have I hit a nerve or something?” Polite confrontation was often the best strategy when dealing with a human, Angel had learned. It seemed this wasn’t the case in this particular situation.

“You little shi-” The Devil Hunter had raised one fist again, his body tensing up as he was ready to throw the entire weight of his arm behind the punch.

Angel just looked up at him, unflinching. He hoped he wasn’t going to be hit in the face; not only would it hurt even more, but he would be getting into a whole lot of trouble for draining the life force of his new partner.

A few seconds ticked by before the Hunter’s body went limp and he lowered his arm. The fingers of his other hand let go of Angel’s tie and the Devil fell backwards onto the bench, now significantly below the human’s eye-level.

The human closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths, before he turned and strode away, his heels thumping on the concrete floor: “Come with me.”

Angel tried to suppress a groan as he dragged himself up and after the human. The walk down a few corridors could only have lasted about two minutes, but it still made Angel feel exhausted to keep up with Aki’s long strides. The human stood next to an open office door and gestured for Angel to take a look inside. The room was completely empty, with only a desk in one corner and a flickering light on the ceiling.

“This office belonged to my last patrol partner. A Devil ripped his stomach out before my eyes and ate it. I usually drank coffee two corridors down with the patrol partner before him. He was squashed under the foot of another Devil.”

Angel nodded, his eyes flickering outside the window of the office to the brick wall of the building next to it.

“My... A lot of people I know have been killed by Devils.” Outside the window, a single grey pigeon flew by, its overly fat body wobbling.

“I trust Makima’s judgment, so I trust you not to attack any of us.” The pigeon was out of sight now, Angel wondered how the bird had managed to get so plump in the bustling streets of Tokyo. Who had fed it?

“Just understand that this isn’t a game to me. If you don’t take the job seriously then you die or let other people die.”

Aki suddenly grew very quiet. Angel teared his gaze away from the window to see why he had stopped talking. The Devil Hunter was staring at him again… did Angel have something on his face?

“What?”

“You don’t care, do you?” There was something sharp in the Devil Hunter’s voice as if this question was important. Angel shifted his wings slightly, careful not to be punched in the stomach again. 

“About humans?”

“About dying.”

Dying? Angel had never really thought about it before. Sure, death sounded painful so he would like to avoid it. But living wasn’t much better.

“Not really.”

Aki let out a deep breath and rubbed his temples: “If more Devils were like you, my life would be a lot easier.”

Chapter Text

… I'm a man with a one track mind
So much to do in one lifetime (people do you hear me)
Not a man for compromise and where's and why's and living lies
So I'm living it all, yes I'm living it all
And I'm giving it all, and I'm giving it all

-I want it all by Queen, 1989

Aki closed his eyes, taking a deep drag of his cigarette. The smoke ran through his throat, making his body feel warm. He exhaled deeply, the fume curling and slowly disintegrating in front of his face like the spray of an ocean.

It should’ve been enough to calm any man. But no, Aki felt like he was sitting on a high-current cable instead of a simple park bench.

Why the fuck was he late?

Aki could not fathom the sheer laziness of his new colleague. When Makima had assigned him the Devil as a patrol partner -“You’re my last hope! I know you can tame him”- Aki had thought of it more of an understand-your-enemy type of thing.

He had expected the Devil to be deeply misunderstood or something. A lonely soul trapped in the body of an evil creature, needing aid to find the right path, and a comrade to see through his façade, down to the human part of him.

At least, he had expected the Devil not to be late to every goddamn meeting they ever had together! But no, the Angel Devil was nothing like that. Calling him a creature at all would be a stretch, let alone assuming he had something remotely close to a soul.

He just existed like a broken sword without a hilt. Aki knew how he was supposed to work but no matter how hard he tried, Aki couldn’t get the Devil to do anything.

At the beginning of this week, Aki had half-heartedly tried to talk to the Angel Devil but that didn’t lead anywhere. He was stupid to assume Devils were capable of having a conversation to begin with.

And then there was that look. The Devil never even bothered to properly lift his eyelids, always staring at Aki through his lashes as if half asleep. His eyes were dull and unfocused; Aki had seen corpses with more vitality in their faces.

There was no way this creature could be turned into a weapon to fight other Devils. He didn’t even care about being killed himself if his cooperation didn’t work out!

Aki’s phone vibrated in his pocket. He expected to see an excuse or something from his new partner, which would’ve been a first. But no. It was far worse.

Across the jade display flashed black letters: “Incoming call from Miss Makima.”

With fumbling hands, Aki pressed the cold glass of the device against his ear, his earrings making a faint sound against the metal. “Hello?”

“Hi, Aki. How’s it going?”

Aki gave a dry swallow. He couldn’t tell Makima that he hadn’t managed to get the Angel Devil to lift a single finger. She was counting on him – he needed to succeed. “Good, good. He’s a little unmotivated but we’re getting somewhere.”

“That’s not what I heard.”

Another dry swallow. Gosh, was there even any saliva left in Aki’s mouth?

“Many eyewitnesses reported the Angel Devil standing next to you, quote: ‘laughing his ass off’, as you were nearly killed by the Pillow Devil.” 

The eyewitnesses were correct. Aki himself could not comprehend how such an emotionless being could laugh about grave matters – such as his colleague getting stuck between two enormous pillow extremities.

Aki took another drag from his nearly burnt-out cigarette to calm himself. “That was Tuesday. Since then, we’ve improved a lot.”

A pause. Aki could feel Makima’s disbelieving gaze even through the phone. “I expected too much from you I suppose. Bring in the Angel Devil tomorrow. We’ll have him eliminated since he apparently can’t do anything except use up funds for food and lodging.”

Aki’s chest tightened frantically. He couldn’t fail Makima. “Please, let me try just a bit longer – I promise you, I’ll…”

“Can I give you some advice?”

Silence. Aki could hear the people across the park talking – little kids screaming in delight and two dogs barking at each other – even over the splash of water from the fountain he was sitting next to. “Yes, please.”

The rustling of paper on the other end of the call told Aki that Makima had gone back to working on some documents. "You need to stop thinking of the Angel Devil as a mere tool. Act like you would with… let’s say a pet; Use positive reinforcement. Only people with things to lose start fighting. What you need to do is give the Angel Devil something – anything, really – that is valuable enough for him to pursue.”

Makima was smart, as usual. It faintly surprised Aki how expert she seemed at manipulation – the beautiful woman didn’t seem like she would know of such things.

“What on earth could be valuable to a being like him?”

A pause and the scratching sound of a ballpoint pen being dragged across paper. 

“Figure it out – and please do hurry, we need to see results asap.”

The clicking of a connection being cut caused Aki to lower his phone and slump back onto the park bench. Something to lose?

He wasn’t even sure he himself had something like that. His entire life revolved around his goal to kill the Gun Devil. Maybe he’d be pissed to lose Himeno or Makima… but that was kind of it.

After work and the extra hours Makima assigned him, all he was greeted with was silence. His apartment was empty and cold. He had nothing to return to – nothing besides his job. Himeno and some of his colleagues had started making bets about when he’d finally burn out.

Aki didn’t even like his occupation as a Devil Hunter. It was just something he had to do, to get close enough to the Gun Devil to slaughter it. It even surprised him that he was still as sane as he was.

As much as it displeased him and he had fought against the notion in the past, companionship was something that a human could barely live without. It wasn’t just him skipping dinners or spending hours alone on his balcony chain-smoking; it was about safety too.

What would happen if a Devil came crashing through one of his windows to kill him in his sleep? He would just lie there, his blood soaking through his wooden floor tiles for days until Himeno might finally come knocking at his door. Quite a depressing thought that persisted in keeping him up at night.

Aki had been thinking about getting a roommate for a while now. Maybe he should ask Makima if she knew someone who might be interested? 

Yeah, that sounded like a great plan. But Aki presently had more pressing problems to focus.

The bench barely shifted under the Angel Devil’s weight, despite his wings likely weighing quite a lot.

The Devil didn’t look at Aki. He just leaned back and closed his eyes, his chest tightening with a sigh as if Aki were the one fifty minutes late.

Even though Angel was continuously tardy, he always showed up in the end. This was what really confused Aki: why did he even bother in the first place? If his plan was simply to get killed, he didn’t have to go the extra mile.

Aki glanced down at his watch. “Our patrol ends in ten minutes.”

Angel hummed and melted even further back into the bench, his wings and arms draped over the backrest. Bits of water from the nearby fountain reflected off his features, making him seem more alive than usual.

“Can I ask you a question?” No need to be considerate when talking to a Devil.

One eyelid slid open and half a ruby orb scrutinized Aki lazily. “Nope.”

Aki squinted his own eyes in annoyance. Why did this Devil have to make everything he did ten times harder than it had to be?

”If I get to ask you a question back, I’ll consider it though.”

Okay. This was a start at least. But what would a Devil want to know? A weakness to exploit, maybe? His fears? His fighting techniques? Aki doubted very much that a being like the Angel Devil would want to know something trivial like his favorite color.

“Fine.”

Aki would have to take the risk. Even if it turned out to be a mistake, it was the first real interaction he would share with the Devil, and Aki couldn’t afford to waste the opportunity. He took one last drag from his cigarette, then stubbed it out at the edge of the bench, turning his attention back to the Devil.

“What do you want most in the world?”

Angel opened both his eyes, and a little wrinkle appeared between his eyebrows. “Why’d you want to know that?”

“Just answer.”

The Angel Devil paused and Aki started to think he wasn’t going to answer at all. What if he wanted something gruesome like human flesh or the annihilation of mankind? What else would a Devil want? This whole question-thing was a mistake after all…

Angel pulled one of his hands, which was about half the size of Aki’s, from the bench’s backrest and pointed across the park. Aki followed his gesture with his eyes. “You like… trucks?”

Angel huffed and lowered his arm again: “No, idiot. I like ice-cream.”

“Really?”

No way. The Devil must be fucking with Aki. His appearance was bad enough as it was; there was no chance he’d derive pleasure from something as innocent as frozen diabetes in a cup.

The Devil seemed to find Aki’s incredulity just as strange as Aki found his new discovery. “Why would I lie about that?”

On the other hand, Aki should never be so arrogant to assume he could understand a Devil’s twisted mind.

“I don’t trust you.” Aki got up and motioned for Angel to follow him. He complied, stretching both his arms and his wings before trotting at a safe distance from Aki.

“I don’t take comments from someone who wears their hair like you do.”

Considering the fact that the Devil rarely even spoke, he sure had a sharp tongue. But Aki let it slip this time, trying to follow Makima’s advice.

He ended up buying ice cream for the both of them: vanilla for himself and strawberry with chocolate sprinkles for the Devil.

He handed the cone to Angel, making sure the tips of their fingers didn’t touch. The Devil took it with just as much care before bringing the sugary mixture to his lips and taking a small bite.

He really liked ice cream.

Angel savored every nibble like it was the most precious thing in the world, closing his eyes whenever the texture met his lips. His expression grew so soft that Aki had to fight the urge to look away. This being was absolutely bizarre.

They strolled around the park for a bit after Aki recalled they still had to do some patrolling. To his surprise, the Angel Devil complied for once, treading behind him like a duckling following his mother.

Aki should’ve been happy. Proud he finally, after days of trying, figured out a weak spot in the Devil’s emotionless behavior. But he wasn’t. He was pissed.

All it took was buying him sweets?!

Aki had spent nights staying up, worrying. He had researched Devils’ behavioral patterns and created a whole 12’000-word document just analyzing and working out strategies. And all it took was ice cream?

Makima had given him a nudge in the right direction – Aki made himself a mental note to thank her later. But ice cream wasn’t something worth fighting for, was it? Well, it was the first step and Himeno always said Aki should be grateful for little victories.

He forced himself to look down at the redheaded Devil without scowling, which was less difficult than usual, “Show up tomorrow on time, and I’ll buy you two scoops.”

Yes, Aki realized he was acting like a single mother trying to handle her spoiled brat. Luckily, he never planned on having actual children – the mess they’d create would give him a heart attack.

The Angel Devil frowned at Aki. “I still have a question left.”

Right. Aki had forgotten about that. He tried not to look too panicked by crossing his arms across his chest. “Fine, ask me what you want.”

The Devil’s hair reflected the sunlight, giving him a second halo on top of the one he already owned. His gaze didn’t waver as he stared at Aki.

“Do you hate me?”

What the fuck?

Aki’s stomach dropped and he suddenly got the urge to hide himself behind something – smoke would do. He fumbled a pack out of his pocket and didn’t look at the Devil as the spark of the lighter hit the cigarette.

He hated Devils. They’d killed his family, killed his colleagues – they were pure evil. And Angel was a Devil too. To him, humans were nothing but a nuisance. He’d kill every last person walking around them in a heartbeat if he felt like it.

“Yeah.”

Aki looked away as he took his first drag.

In the end, they both had only told half the truth.

Chapter Text

We're today's scrambled creatures, locked in tomorrow's double feature
Heaven's on the pillow, its silence competes with hell
It's a twenty-four hour service, guaranteed to make you tell
And the streets are full of press men
Count them, fifty 'round a table, White and dressed to kill

-We are the Dead by David Bowie, 1974

There were two things worth knowing about Aki Hayakawa. Firstly, he hated Devils. This everybody knew, he was even notorious for it. A less known fact: he hated filth.

Just the sight of sticky crumbs on a table, the smear of dirt on a carpet, or salad sticking to someone’s teeth was enough to throw the great Devil Hunter into a frenzy.

So, the second he saw the thing milling around the smashed cars, he took all his pride, bundled it up and fled into the nearest alleyway.

Bile rose up in his throat and he choked out his last meal, trying hard to keep it from splashing too much. His legs were shaking, and he itched to take a drag out of a cigarette to make the vile taste in his mouth ebb away in the smoky haze. But no. He was on patrol duty and there was a Devil on the loose.

Angel couldn’t hide the gloating in his voice as he leaned his shoulder against the worn-down wall next to Aki: “What? You scared of dirt?”

“Fuck you.” Aki clenched his fist and cleared his throat a few times.

The Devil held a napkin under the Devil Hunter’s nose. Aki tried to grab it a little too eagerly, which startled the Devil into letting go of the fabric as if he had been burned. Aki caught it midair, the Angel Devil moving back a few steps, his face unmoving. “Be careful, human.”

Aki had read through the reports of Angel’s previous patrol partners. A lot of them claimed the Devil had wanted to touch them secretly to drain their lifespan. At least that was their reasoning for their unwillingness to work with him. After being in a room with Angel for more than two minutes, anyone could tell those claims were just absurd.

No matter how much he tried to hide it, the Devil seemed revolted at the prospect of touching someone. He gave a wide berth to anything and anyone he encountered, keeping his distance at all times.

After Aki had asked him why he didn’t just wear gloves, the Devil pulled a grimace and claimed Makima had forbidden it, so he’d be more useful if there was a sudden need for combat. Not that the Devil ever participated in fights. He mostly just stood by and watched Aki do the work; even ice cream couldn’t get him to do something that strenuous.

“Whatever.” Aki wiped his mouth on the napkin and stuffed it into his pocket, “we need to get rid of that Devil immediately.”

In the time they had spent in the alleyway, the disgusting entity had probably caused even more property damage to the city, which would be a whole load of paperwork for Aki. Angel flicked his pale red hair over his shoulder. “Don’t act like I’m slowing you down. You were the one running off like you were going to pee your pants at the sight of a little grease.”

“I wasn’t… A little grease?” No. Aki wouldn’t argue with the Devil. Not today. He just had to take a deep breath and get his cool back on. “Just do something this time.”

Angel raised his eyebrows.

“Please.”

The Devil blinked twice. “If you’re asking so nicely, I might bring some refreshments at half time.”

This remark did not sit right with Aki. Their partnership had lasted a few weeks now and the results where mediocre at best – sure, Angel was present now. He followed orders and sometimes even helped evacuate civilians. But he never fought.

Aki wasn’t sure what held him back, if it was sheer laziness or his allegiance to the other Devils, but Angel never as much as scratched any of the monsters. The other Devil Hunters were quick to notice that too and Aki had to fight tooth and nail to continue the project – to keep the Angel Devil alive.

It wasn’t like he had grown fond of the Devil. They never really talked, Angel was still late, and Aki still felt sick that he had to work with one of them: Sometimes, the glow of Angel’s halo would catch his eye and his wings would shuffle, reminding him that he wasn’t dealing with a human.

He hated him. He didn’t even understand why he worked as hard as he did, lying to Makima about his progress, promising better results. Maybe it was because he was a Devil, because Aki didn’t have to worry about him. He would never have to see Angel choke in his own blood, never have to stand next to his grave, never explain to his family what happened, why he’d died.

The Angel Devil was disposable, Aki kept telling himself, that was why he wanted to keep him as his patrol partner. That was why he went as far as to beg Makima to let him continue the project for just a few more weeks – that and his pride of course.

The Devil didn’t make it easy though – a weapon without any edge was no good. Makima had talked about significant abilities but refused to show him Angel’s informational file. He knew about the touch-thing of course, but Aki couldn’t see the Angel Devil using that in a real fight. Besides, that ridiculously small build made him probably quite weak.

“Never mind. I can manage that myself.”

Aki turned his back to his partner and stepped out of the alleyway to face the thing again.

The Grime Devil was a pile of flesh. It had a violet-green tone and was filled with little holes and dents, from some of which a yellow-white paste welled out. It was also covered with single strands of black hair, which stuck together due to the pus that was leaking from the Devil. It moved like a giant maggot; curling and stretching its fat body with a nearly violent force, as it chased after civilians and flattened cars under its mass. 

Aki froze as the smell of decaying meat and shit hit his nostrils - if he hadn’t emptied his stomach before, he certainly would’ve done so now. ‘A little grease’ his ass!

But trying to avoid the problem wouldn’t solve it. And as Aki saw a young woman fall backwards and crawl across the ground in an attempt to get away from the Devil, his body moved on instinct. His torso tilted forward, his legs breaking into a run as he reached behind his back and drew his sword with one smooth motion.

The hilt felt familiar in his palm, nestling itself perfectly against his rough skin - the sword felt like it was just an extension of his arm, so often had he swung it. Even if Aki disliked his job, this was undeniably what he was made for - letting the metal of his sword kiss his enemies’ flesh. 

Every muscle in his body was under his complete control, every fiber tensed as he jumped upward and dragged his sword through the tough flesh of the Devil.

In that moment two things happened. Two things that Aki could’ve avoided if he had been less careless.

Firstly, the skin he cut through burst open, squirting pus all over Aki. His shining sword, his hands, his perfectly ironed suit all got covered in this sticky sludge, as well as his eyes.

Ouch.

His eyes burned like they were set aflame. Aki lost his balance, his heel slipping on the greasy floor, while he was trying to wipe over his eyes without making them worse. As he lost the precious control over his body and fell backward, he realized what else was going to happen.

Aki Hayakawa was about to die.

A recent occurrence was shaking Devil Hunters all across the globe. The anglerfish-phenomenon. An intelligent Devil stood by and hid itself, while it unleashed a weak and unintelligent Devil upon pedestrians. Devil Hunters would come and take the weaker individual out. While they were distracted, the anglerfish Devil could strike from the shadows. Their killing rate being alarmingly high.

Aki, still caught in his fall, stared into the gaping moth that had placed itself carefully around his head as it snapped shut. He would become the next Devil Hunter to die do that strategy. His neck would be pierced and severed by those teeth that resembled small daggers. He would never be able to smoke another cigarette, try out a new recipe he had found online, or say goodbye to Himeno. He would never be able to avenge his family’s death.

But no. Aki kept his head, if only in the literal sense.

It happened so fast; he could barely make out more than a dark flash and a sharp pain against his hip and a moment later against his knee when he was hurled to the side.

A glint of a weapon, the splash of blood, then a deafening wail that made Aki’s ears ring. Aki numbly got up on one knee as he stared at the Devils in front of him.

Angel gripped the shaft of a half materialized double-edged sword that was jammed deeply between the Devil’s palate and the floor of his mouth. His face was contorted in pain, the lower row of the Devil’s teeth piercing his forearm, showing on the other side of Angel’s limb, keeping him pinned like a pierced butterfly.

Had he just saved Aki? How had he been so fast? Why had he saved him?

Aki’s body moved again to intervene, but the unknown Devil hurled his face backwards in pain, dragging the Angel Devil with it. Angel’s arm ripped free and he was slung across the street, smashing backwards into the windshield of a deserted car. 

Not again.

Aki didn’t know if the glass or Angel’s body caused the dreadful sound of breaking, but he didn’t care anymore. Rage nearly blinded him as much as the pus had earlier, as he grabbed his sword from the ground next to him and swung it at the Devil.

It managed to dodge, still queasy with the wound Angel had inflicted upon it as it jumped backwards with surprising agility. The Devil resembled a skeleton distorted in length, stretching halfway across the street with little arms sprouting from his bones. Its most prominent feature was its mouth, which was still gaping open and revealed the set of long, razor-sharp teeth. It faintly registered in Aki’s head, as he closed in on the Devil, that the teeth seemed to have a hole drilled into them, making them look like the needle of a syringe.

“Out of the way!”

For the second time this day, Aki was pushed beside by a person wielding a sword. This time the assaulter wasn’t a redheaded Devil though. It was a tall woman with an eyepatch and a wild grin, which she aimed at Aki: “You’re hurt Hayakawa, let me handle him while you get outta’ here.”

Aki hadn’t even noticed the blood that was running down the side of his left leg, making his already dirty trousers even more sticky and wet. His knee must’ve been smashed when he had been thrown to the ground earlier. It only gave out a dull throb at the moment, but Aki knew out of experience that it would hurt like a bitch once the adrenaline had subsided.

He grimaced but knew that having a discussion with Himeno was like arguing against a brick wall; completely pointless.

So, he turned on his heel and raced back to the car where Angel had been slammed down by the Devil. Aki came to a screeching halt next to the shattered windshield, his pulse raging in his ears as he looked down at the limp body of the Devil, his arms and legs spread out beside him, blood trickling from his torn sleeve down to the hood of the car.

It wasn’t supposed to hurt. Angel was just a Devil. He was not like the other patrol partners Aki had had in the past. He was supposed to be disposable. Why did it still hurt that fucking much?

Aki instinctively reached two shaking fingertips out to the exposed side of the Devil’s neck but managed to stop himself in time. “You alive?” He huffed instead, sounding brusquer than he intended.

The Devil sighed and opened his eyes halfway. “Unfortunately.”

Relief and annoyance made Aki’s knees even wobblier than they’d already been.

“Try to keep it that way.” He carefully lifted the Devil into a sitting position, grabbing his shoulder and waist, praying not to make skin contact. Angel winced and Aki froze in his tracks, nearly dropping him down again. “For god’s sake, how hurt are you?”

Angel clenched his jaw in a grimace. “Sprained wings, broken ribs, probably a lot of bruises on my back - and my arm is torn open if you haven’t noticed.”

Aki hated him at that moment. The Devil looked even more done with life than usual, his eyes glassy and his body stiff with pain. If he hadn’t been so careless, if he had just let Aki handle the Devil himself... Maybe Aki wouldn’t have cared then. But now he had gone ahead and saved him, he had acted so human, like he did have some empathy after all.

But it wasn’t over. Angel was alive and if Aki managed to bring the Devil to safety, there was a good chance it would stay that way. So, he carefully steadied him as if he was an overgrown puppet and tried putting an arm under the crook of his knees: “I need to get you out of here, I don’t assume you can walk.”

“Stop.” The Angel Devil vehemently pulled his shoulder and legs out of Aki’s grip and sharply sucked in his breath with a new wave of pain “You go, I can handle myself.”

A crash resounded behind the two. Himeno was probably just buying them time - if she hadn’t beaten the Devil yet she probably wasn’t able to do it at all. The Devil Hunter fought like a firework, giving all of her energy away in one go. She wasn’t suited for longer fights.

“Bullshit! Don’t act heroic now!” Aki tried to grab the Devil’s shoulder again, but Angel raised one bare hand and moved it slowly towards Aki’s forehead. The Devil Hunter instinctively jumped back at the open threat. The Angel Devil, now without any support, slid along the hood of the car until he was crouched on the ground, his knees stationed protectively in front of his body and his uninjured wing draping alongside him.

He hid his face behind the arm that didn’t look like a minced Hotdog: “Just leave, human.”

Behind Aki, Himeno got back to her feet after being thrown to the ground, but she seemed to be slowing down considerably. Aki started shaking now; he had to help his friend, but he couldn’t leave the Angel Devil to bleed out on the ground. Would an ambulance even have enough courage to treat him? Just one touch could be lethal, and he was a Devil after all. Angel had saved Aki, that’s why he even was so heavily injured in the first place. 

Fuck it.

Aki turned his katana in his hand and, without any hesitation, let the sharp edge run across the inside of his other palm. The pain wasn’t nearly as bad as other things Aki had experienced but it still was anything but pleasant.

Angel looked up at the smell of blood, his eyes widening as he saw Aki’s bleeding hand: “What’d you do that for?”

Aki crouched down next to the Devil – they had to hurry before the wound would seal itself again. Angel involuntarily inched back, looking at Aki as if he’d grown another head.

“Listen here. I don’t know why you have a death wish, Devil. I don’t know if you have a personal reason or if it’s something else, but I won’t let you die.”

In that moment, Aki realized that what he was saying was the truth. He didn’t like his new partner one bit, but he couldn’t act like he was just an enemy any longer. And he would let hell freeze over before he owed a Devil for saving his life. 

“Why? Didn’t you say you hated me?” Angel tried to sound just as uninterested as ever, pointedly not looking at Aki’s hand.

“I don’t. Okay? You’re my partner and I don’t like seeing my partners die. Now, drink my blood for fuck’s sake or I’ll have to open another wound.”

Angel sighed, then, after a long second in which only the crashing of Himeno’s sword was audible, he moved closer. Aki lifted his hand, which now was completely red with blood and drizzling at a consistent speed (maybe he had underestimated how sharp his katana was?) over Angel’s head.

The Devil leaned back slightly, opening his mouth, and catching the red liquid between his lips. Aki had to turn his head away to hide the warmth that was creeping over his face. This whole ordeal was extremely weird.

After the last drop splashed onto Angel’s lip, the Devil got up silently. His arm was healed, as was apparently his ribs and wing. Aki on the other hand started to feel the blood loss and strain on his knee, as he shakily got up and had to support himself on the smashed trunk of the car.

He looked over to his former partner battling against the Devil. Her moves were sluggish now and her sword seemed to do very little damage to the bony limbs of the Devil she was fighting. Her only advantage was the sword, that was still stuck inside the Devil’s mouth, but Aki could see the iron blade starting to crack. He stumbled forward, raising his katana to join his friend but he was too slow.

Angel was faster.

Within the blink of a second, he was next to Himeno, his eyes blazing with a dull compassion Aki had only ever seen when he was talking about sweets. The Angel Devil reached up to his halo and pulled out a large metal hammer which he swung at the unknown Devil’s face like it weighed nothing.

The unknown Devil didn’t have time to dodge. His head was smashed into little pieces in a matter of seconds. Angel let the hammer drop to the floor with a thud as the rest of the Devil shattered before him.

There was no sound except a few police sirens and shouting in the distance. Aki and Himeno both stared at Angel with open jaws. Finally, Aki got up and staggered toward him.

“You fucking asshole!”

“What the hell, human?” Angel rubbed the side of his neck, “I just saved your life! Twice actually!”

“Why didn’t you do that earlier? We’ve nearly been killed three time this week and all you’ve done is stand by and watch! You clearly can fight, asshole!”

Before the redhead could respond, Himeno interrupted them with a loud giggle. Both Aki and Angel looked at her with irritation: “What’s so funny?”

She shook her head, bubbling into even more laughter. Angel looked over at Aki slightly concerned. “I think she’s not doing well. Humans aren’t supposed to do that.”

“You guys!” Himeno got up and draped an arm over both of them, Angel looking concerned at her bare arm nearly grazing his neck: “How about we go for a drink after work?”

She quickly let go of Aki and grimaced: “After you’ve taken a shower maybe. You really are mucky, Aki.”

***

Yoko Naraba had been a baker.

She was forty-two, with a husband and two kids. They had known each other since childhood – she first met him by accidentally smacking him in the face with her shoe while swinging at the local park. As they grew older, she would sneak sweets into his schoolbag, unaware that the almond flour she used made him break out in hives. Still, he ate every treat she gave him, too afraid she’d stop baking for him if he didn’t. When they married, Yoko Naraba believed they would grow old together – until their skin wrinkled like raisins.

She died in 1977.

The cause of death was an encounter with a Devil she met inside her local church. He was crouching in the middle of the room, looking dazed and smelling like seafoam. To her he looked like a young homeless man, judging from his long hair, maybe even one of the sinners she kept hearing about.

She tried telling him to leave the building but all she was met with was a blank stare. It seemed a little uncanny to her. After grabbing his arm and pulling it, the homeless man finally moved, now exposing a pair of wings that were folded at his back. Yoko Naraba died before she even could realize that he wasn’t human.

Now the human stood before Angel, her silhouette being illuminated by the shadows of what looked like church windows. Angel found himself kneeling on the ground, both hands over his ears to dampen her piercing screams that washed over him like acid.

Back when he had first met the human, he didn’t even know how to speak. He was barely older than a few months – mentally still a toddler with an extreme thirst for blood. Not that it would’ve made a big difference of course; even years later he would’ve killed the woman without batting an eye.

He remembered the flush of life he received from that touch – the power that entered his bloodstream. Like he was walking through a desert and got his first gulp of fresh water in decades.

Not only that. Somehow, he felt connected to the woman, felt the warmth in her body flood him like a rush of euphoria. That was until she crumbled at his feet, cold, as if her life had been ripped right out of her.

No, back then he hadn’t understood what she was saying. Now he did. He could understand her talking about her husband and children he had taken her away from. How her daughter had to grow up in a house where nobody knew how to braid her hair – how her husband stopped going to church and found solace in his liquor-cabinet instead.

Well, he heard her – he didn’t understand. If someone killed him by accident, he’d just shrug and say “you’re bad” before going back to Hell and starting the cycle again. He really had nothing in common with the humans whose life he was stealing so easily.

As the human screamed, a few chunks of spit lodged from her bare teeth. Her face seemed to elongate, turning pointy and sharp. Now a human-sized sword was quivering before Angel. They stared at each other for a little eternity before it suddenly snapped at his face, caught itself in his halo and disappeared.

This was why Angel hated fighting. It wasn’t the killing that bothered him—he had no moral qualms about cutting down other Devils, whether they were his kind or not. Devils were just a superior version of humans in a way; they murdered, ate, slept, and multiplied, clinging to life as if they had any real power over death.

What Angel despised were the weapons he had to use.

His abilities were undeniably useful, but they came at a cost. Every time he forged a new weapon, the humans whose lifespans he had taken returned to haunt his nightmares. They would scream accusations, drowning him in guilt for what felt like days, until his knees were scraped raw.

That in itself wasn’t the real problem.

What unsettled him was a quiet, persistent fear lurking in the back of his mind – a nagging sense that each time he drew on a life, he was rolling the dice. That one day, he’d use the wrong lifespan. Someone he wasn’t ready to face again.

Today he seemed to be in the clear though. The dream changed, now displaying an unlit street with foaming car-pieces littered across it. Out of the rubble emerged another man and crawled towards him, half his body still stuck under his vehicle, stretching him into a strange shape.

It’s not her. It’s not them. Not this time. Not yet.

Angel adjusted the position of one of his knees and placed his fists over his ears again before the man started screaming.

For the first time in decades, he felt like creating a weapon was worth it.

Chapter Text

I'm late for work on Monday and my boss is bitchin'
Can't get out of bed 'cause my head's still spinnin'
My hair's in a rat's nest, I look like hell
Half alive or half dead, I just can't tell

-Look What the Cat Dragged in by Poison, 1986

Panic rose in Angel’s throat, completely clogging it and stifling any protest he might’ve been inclined to express.

He was absolutely terrified of whatever he had gotten himself into. Naturally, he knew of the weird human tradition called ‘going for a drink.’ Humans, especially Devil Hunters, seemed to be utterly obsessed with meeting after work and intoxicating themselves.

It seemed extremely dull—why would anyone want to spend more time than necessary around other entities? So, the alcohol must’ve been the only reason such customs existed.

Which was a major problem for Angel. He couldn’t drink.

Not even because he was sheepish or just detested the burning taste of liquor (he could’ve just as well drunk sour vinegar), but because of his anatomy.

Angel was very small, a fact most humans joked about, but it truly served a purpose; Angel had wings and should theoretically be able to fly. Not that he had ever bothered learning, since that would be far too exhausting—his body was made to fly nonetheless.

The Devil weighed virtually nothing in comparison to the hefty humans around him, especially since he had light bones and very little water and fat reserves, which reduced his weight significantly.

This made his body have nearly no tolerance for liquor—so much so that just the tiniest drop too much could quickly be poison to the Devil.

Why had he agreed to go with the human meat bags in the first place, then?

He hadn’t!

“Could you please go away?” Angel clutched his door handle and pressed it upward, feeling like a rebellious toddler. He wished the Commission would’ve given him keys to his room, but they didn’t find it necessary. A Devil like Angel, they said, was more than capable of defending himself if someone were to break in.

So, Angel had a door that was only lockable from the outside, which had never really bothered him—right up until this point.

The door handle bulged downward, and the female Devil Hunter entered with vigor, as if she hadn’t even noticed Angel’s protest. She greeted him by flashing her teeth—in what Angel assumed was a grin. Or a threat.

“Hi, darling! Are you ready for a night out?”

Darling? Angel had to suppress the urge to squirm. What was wrong with this human?

Well, aside from the obvious fact that her eye—covered by a black eyepatch (which made her look surprisingly little like a pirate captain)—seemed to be missing. Also, a strange smell emanated from her—dark chocolate and leather—probably to hide the stench of cigarettes.

She pointed one pale finger at Angel’s baggy pajama clothes. “Have you forgotten? I said we’d be going for a drink this evening.”

Forgotten? Angel tried to keep the panic out of his voice. “I never said I’d come!”

The woman with the eyepatch didn’t seem to understand him. Maybe she was already drunk? Maybe she was just drunk all the time? Instead of listening to his protests, she made her way around Angel’s place, searching for appropriate clothes.

There wasn’t much to search through in Angel’s apartment—if you could even call it that. The place consisted of just two rooms: one was a simple bathroom with a tub, a shower, and a toilet. The other consisted of a bed and a small couch, which Angel rarely used, as it made his wings cramp.

The most eloquent feature was the flickering halogen bulb overhead, which made lying around and staring at the ceiling a lot livelier. As Angel was situated in the literal basement of Public Safety Headquarters, there was no such luxury as a window.

Quite depressing—for anyone but Angel. Because the Devil liked his solitude and the lack of distraction in his room. It meant that he could engage in his favorite activities: being bored and sleeping, without anyone interrupting him.

But that was over now.

The female Devil Hunter sighed as she finally finished rummaging through Aki’s wardrobe. “Seriously? Just suits?”

Angel had to bite back a snarky remark about the woman herself wearing a suit. There wasn’t any use in trying to debate with the mad.

To the Devil Hunter’s defense, she wasn’t wearing the same uniform she had worn that afternoon when she was fighting. This one had turquoise embellishments that matched her eye. Gosh, how much time and money humans spent on such trivial matters as clothes or makeup. The cosmetic industry probably claimed more lifespan in a day than Angel could in a hundred years.

He could use that to his advantage, though. Lifting his shoulders, Angel tried to match a human’s disappointed expression, probably failing miserably. “I guess I can’t come without owning proper clothing.”

“Don’t worry!” She threw him another look, scanning him from head to toe, which made Angel uncomfortable. “I have spare clothes in my office upstairs. You can borrow something of mine, even though you’re like half my size.”

Angel would’ve liked to emphasize that he wasn’t that small, but the woman had already stalked out of his room, apparently to get him some human things to wear.

Angel slumped down on the couch, clutching his stomach with a wave of nausea. How awful his life was about to become.

Somehow, he knew the story that was about to be told, as if he had experienced it before. Those primitive beings who considered themselves “the crown of creation” would take interest in Angel. They’d feed him and treat him like one of their own kind, until they ended up making Angel grow sympathetic toward them.

Then they’d end up getting killed by him.

Truly, Angel shouldn’t care about such creatures. If humans were dumb enough to trust him, then that was on them. But still—

Aki had given him his blood.

It was extremely weird, even for Devils, to receive something like that. Imagine someone coming up to you and inviting you to take a bite out of their—chocolate—finger. Sure, it looked delicious, but it was still weird.

He had nonetheless healed Angel—a Devil, whom he claimed to hate just a few weeks prior. Even worse, Angel had started it.

Why did he have to rush forward and save the idiot in the first place? He could’ve just watched him get eaten by the Dentist Devil—a ridiculous death for a ridiculous being. But no, he had to intervene. And now, he had to bear the consequences.

The female Devil Hunter with the eyepatch appeared in his doorframe again, slightly out of breath and clutching a bundle of fabric under her arm. “Here you go, Devil.”

She threw the bits of fabric into Angel’s lap and flashed her teeth again—even wider than before.

Angel lifted the uppermost bit of clothing and eyed it suspiciously. It was a black, untidy T-shirt depicting a weird triangle and a beam of light breaking through it into a rainbow. He looked up at the woman again. “Do I really have to?”

The woman nodded, her short hair whipping with the motion. “It’ll be fun!” Angel felt despair wash over him. The woman didn’t seem to notice. “Also, I really need you to meet some of my colleagues. You’ll see when we arrive.”

So, Angel changed into the woman’s spare clothes. The T-shirt, high-waist jeans, and the leather jacket really were too big for Angel. The garments hung around his body like he was a scarecrow dressed in a circus tent, but the woman—who introduced herself as Himeno—insisted that oversized clothes were the latest craze and that Angel looked phenomenal.

When she saw his wings being pressed down by the T-shirt, she took a pair of scissors and cut two holes in it, complaining the entire time that the T-shirt had been one of her favorites. She tied the leather jacket around Angel’s waist and looked at him with her hands on her hips for a long moment.

Angel looked down at himself; he didn’t feel any different. At least those clothes were more comfortable than his suits. He looked back at Himeno. Should he thank her? No, that wasn’t necessary—she was just some human who had decided to play dress-up with him, after all. But he’d accompany her at least, so her efforts wouldn’t be in vain.

When he followed her to his door, he noticed a weird star-shaped bottle lying on top of his pillow. “What is that?”

The woman whirled around and followed his gaze before smiling at Angel. “It’s a bit of perfume—I brought it because it’s got the same name as you!”

“Angel Devil?” Angel frowned. What a strange name for a cosmetic product.

“Nope, just Angel.” Himeno shuffled on her feet, her eye not meeting Angel’s gaze. “It’s a gift for after tonight. I’ve heard it smells like caramel and other sweet things—you like those, don’t you?”

How strange. But indeed, Angel liked the thought of having the thick scent of candy ever-present. The fact that Himeno planned on applying the perfume only after their outing, or how she knew of his love of sugar, didn’t really strike him as important at the time.

She chatted with him all the way from his apartment upstairs until they exited the building. Angel didn’t pay attention at all; his brain had the wonderful function of fading out anything that wasn’t interesting—so basically everything that came out of a human’s mouth.

He immediately became invested when the woman mentioned the word sweeties, though. “Are there sweets where we’re going?” he asked, barely able to keep the excitement out of his voice.

The woman looked at him with a blank face, then started to giggle again. “I was talking about colleagues, but yeah, I’ll buy you some if you want.”

So, Angel’s evening wasn’t completely ruined after all. And he didn’t even complain too much when he was stuffed into the back seat of a car and escorted to a pub by a woman with an untidy ponytail who clearly wasn’t in a mental state to drive.

She shrieked every time Angel lifted an arm to brush a bit of hair out of his eyes or rub his nose. Even though Angel appreciated humans having respect and keeping their distance from him, her behavior was completely over the top.

Himeno unfortunately seemed to think so too. She found it amusing rather than irritating and kept making fun of the situation. She leaned back in the passenger seat and moved one finger slowly toward Angel’s nose, imitating the sound an airplane might make, while grinning at the other woman through the rearview mirror.

After the woman threatened to kick both of them out—Angel hadn’t even done anything—Himeno stopped herself, murmuring something about a buzzkill.

The Devil was fairly surprised they all ended up arriving at the pub in one piece, as the woman—Kobeni, he had overheard—nearly got into three accidents despite her overcareful driving. If given enough time, Devil Hunters probably would exterminate themselves without needing any Devils.

The pub looked just as appalling as Angel had imagined. Greenery clung to the outer façade and—judging by the clattering of glass and the humming of voices coming through the front door—the establishment seemed to be filled to the brim.

Still, Angel followed the two women inside, hoping Himeno wouldn’t forget about her promise to buy him sweets.

He was hit by a wave of noise and the heat of the many bodies that were squeezed into a tight space. A lot of people shot the halo above his head a look that indicated most of them were Devil Hunters—and disapproving of Angel’s presence. He quickly untangled the leather jacket from around his waist and pulled it over his shoulders and wings—he didn’t want to be hitting elbows with any of the people in here.

“Over here, Devil!” Himeno beckoned him from across the room—how she had made her way through the tables and bodies this quickly was beyond Angel.

He carefully worked his way across to her, dodging the humans’ bodies left and right, trying to avoid both attention and contact—through clothes or not. By the time he had reached Himeno's low table, he was completely overheated.

Slumping down next to her, he took a deep breath, trying to make himself believe that the stuffy air in this establishment was the rich breeze of the ocean. When he opened his eyes again, he was faced with the straight-lined mouth and furrowed eyebrows of his new patrol partner.

He was seated cross-legged, his head leaning against his—now bandaged—palm, a glass of liquor in his other hand. He was wearing his hair open, which made it spill down from his cheekbones to his shoulders in subtle waves. Angel wrinkled his nose and looked away pointedly—at least the human had showered since their last encounter.

“Nice to see you too,” Aki huffed while taking a small sip from his beverage. His voice was drowned out by Himeno’s excited shriek when she skimmed over the cocktail menu: “What can I get for you, Devil? Want some sake or chu-hi?”

Angel felt a twinge in his stomach. “I don’t want any alcohol.”

“Come on, a little can’t hurt!” Himeno winked at him and offered him the menu. Yes, it could. But Angel was starting to understand that this human would not leave him alone, no matter how much he tried.

He took the carton and skimmed over the liquors himself. Each one sounded worse than the last, and Angel already felt sick just imagining having to drink them. To his surprise, the menu was torn out of his hands and placed at the far end of the table.

“What are you doing?” asked Himeno in Angel’s stead, who was feeling just as surprised.

Aki glared at her with the authority of a disappointed preschool teacher. “If he doesn’t want to drink, then he doesn’t have to.”

“Geez, fine.” Himeno lifted her hands in defeat, “I’m just trying to make him come out of his shell a little.”

The him they kept referring to must’ve been Angel, who was not a shy toddler but a Devil who didn’t appreciate being patronized. He opened his mouth to tell this to the humans himself but was interrupted again—this time by the arrival of two individuals who seemed to have quite the effect on the gathered crowd in the pub, as a lot of noise died down.

Aki looked to the door himself, his eyebrows raised. “Wow. Surprisingly, I’ve never seen Kishibe in a pub before.”

He must’ve meant the sturdy, grizzled blond man with a scar running down his left cheek. Angel had heard of him; he was known as ‘the number-one Devil slayer in Japan.’ How pleasant.

“Feeling like sparking one up, Aki?” Himeno got up and stretched, her spine making little popping noises. Aki finished his glass and got up as well. “We’ll be back in a minute.”

They both made their way through the crowd to a glass door, presumably leading to a balcony. Angel didn’t really care about their absence at first. He just put his head on the cool wood of the table and closed his eyes tentatively—knowing quite well he wouldn’t be able to sleep in such a crowded room.

It was quite fascinating how lonely one could feel when having so many individuals around oneself. The humans were smiling, drinking, moving their bodies in this grotesque fashion they called ‘dance.’ Even Angel could tell what they felt like—happy, the adrenaline and alcohol running hot through their blood. Would Angel feel the same way if he were human? What a repellent thought.

A rough squeeze of a hand on his shoulder made Angel instantly alert. He bolted upright, his eyes scanning for the offender, and when they locked with two black orbs, his heart dropped to his stomach.

“Devil. Would you like to join us for a drink over there?” the human – Kishibe – pointed to an abandoned corner with one calloused finger.

An ambush.

Could it still be an ambush if it was so plainly announced? Was Makima finally tired of him using up their company funds, or was this a private mission? Angel already saw himself getting beheaded by the hidden katana at the Devil Hunter’s waist. His feathers soaked red, loose strands of hair fluttering to the ground where they would be mopped up by some worker afterward.

Angel couldn’t speak, his fingers trembling under the table. But that was one of the few characteristics he liked about himself: no matter how distressed he felt, humans hardly ever picked up on it.

Just as he struggled with their odd expressions and actions, they had the same problem with his demeanor. The humans called it ‘poker face’ or something, a saying Angel had picked up while patrolling and grown quite fond of.

“I don’t drink.” Angel shuffled his wings under his leather jacket so that he’d bring a bit of a protective barrier between himself and the Devil Hunter. This one wasn’t like Aki or Himeno, or even the Devil Hunters that had glared at him today when he entered this pub. This one was dangerous. A cold, loaded gun aimed at Angel’s head that could go off any second.

“Oh, We’ll get apple juice then.” The man straightened up, towering over Angel like an actual giant. His face seemed even more detached than Angel’s, which couldn’t be good. If the two were to fight, Angel wasn’t sure who’d win, especially since they were surrounded by Devil Hunters. So, Angel got up himself—his stature still only reaching the other man’s chest—and followed him to the secluded corner.

There, a woman with pale hair was leaning against a wall, holding a glass against her full lips while staring at them through the lashes of a single eye. She wore an eyepatch, just like Himeno—maybe that was a trend among female Devil Hunters? But the woman didn’t give off ‘Devil Hunter vibes’; she seemed far too much like a Devil herself—maybe a Fiend?

“You must be the Angel Devil. I’ve heard a lot about you!” The woman put her hand out.

She put her bare hand out and looked at Angel expectantly.

They stared at each other, the chatter around them continuing as if nothing out of the ordinary was going on. “No.” Angel hid both his hands in his pockets instinctively. “I’d kill you.”

The woman didn’t seem fazed one bit. “C’mon, a second couldn’t hurt!”

Yes, it definitely would.

“Gosh, Quanxi, let the poor Devil be.” The intimidating Devil Hunter positioned himself behind Angel, covering him in his massive shadow. “She’s just weird like that. Don’t worry.”

Quanxi put her hand on her hip, slightly indignant. “Nobody asked for your opinion, old man.”

“I’m the same age as you.”

They seemed to be distracted. This gave Angel an opportunity to bolt. If they’d ganged up on him only a few days earlier, he might’ve just accepted his fate, but now—

‘I don’t know why you have a death wish, Devil. I don’t know if you have a reason or if it’s something else, but I won’t let you die.’

He didn’t want to die. Living was exhausting, but dying was probably worse. There wasn’t any ice cream in Hell, after all.

So, he made himself even smaller than he usually was and slid one foot tentatively to his left, quickly following it with his other one. He held his breath as he slowly distanced himself from the middle of the bickering duo—if he found Aki or Himeno, he might have a chance at survival. This was only under the assumption that one of the two would even consider helping Angel, which was highly unlikely.

Finally, he was outside the range of the giant man’s shadow and tensed, preparing to make a run for it.

Then he was grabbed by the radial of his wing and pulled back forcefully.

The scarred Devil Hunter hadn’t even looked up from the argument with the woman. But he had just committed the rudest thing that had ever happened to Angel.

The feathers covering his wings weren’t directly connected to his nervous system, so they didn’t suck out lifespan. Still, Angel could feel someone pulling them. It felt so insolent to him, so offensive, that he finally lost all his restraint and temper.

He raised one boot and kicked the Devil Hunter in the shin with all the force he could muster. Despite Angel’s ridiculously light body, that was still a lot. Angel was a Devil, after all; if he was really pissed, one punch or kick could be enough to even shatter metal.

“Ouch.” The man looked at Angel as if he’d just been stung by a mosquito. “Right. We have more important things to take care of than to insult each other, Quanxi.”

Shit. Angel had underestimated the brute strength of Japan’s best Devil Hunter. Quanxi rolled her eye and gestured for the man to speak while taking a deep sip from her glass.

“Fine,” the man rubbed his temples, “we need your help.”

Oh. So they weren’t going to hurt Angel just yet. The Devil nearly felt relieved, before the human finished speaking.

“We’re going to kill Makima.”

Everything froze.

Well, it didn’t really. The people kept babbling, the band in the corner kept playing, and Angel’s heart kept pounding after it had missed one beat. But the gears in his head completely froze.

Kill Makima?

Somehow, this idea alone seemed to twist his insides with pure dread. A wave of pain made him clutch his head. “You guys are insane.”

Three narrowed eyes and two apathetic faces looked down on him. They were serious.

“Listen to me.” The man’s face came close to Angel’s as he bent down to be at eye level. Angel could smell the booze on his breath. “Makima is a Devil.”

That at least explained her uncanny eyes. Angel had always thought it strange that nobody commented on them, but he was used to abnormal things in the human world.

“She’s a Devil. So what? I’m a Devil too.” Angel liked Devils better than humans. While he did help the humans kill Devils, he did this because he wasn’t left with much of a choice. Either kill your own kind or get killed by a different one. No matter how much he disliked her, he wouldn’t kill Makima just because some Devil-haters had it out for her.

The woman wasn’t fazed in the slightest. “I’m a Hybrid, and I’ve got four Fiend girlfriends, but keep talking.”

Angel couldn’t help but feel a little impressed. One relationship sounded draining enough, but this Hybrid had one with five involved parties?

The man took another sip from his flask, raising it above his head to catch the last drop on his tongue. “Each of us has a different reason why we need her dead. But the main fact is simple: Makima is a threat to society as a whole.”

Nope, this was too absurd for even Angel to handle. His headache now started spreading down into the lower part of his neck, like a hand about to snap it.

“She’s supposed to protect Japan, but her obsession is turning her into the worst enemy of what she’s hypothetically supposed to defend. That’s why I’m here.”

Quanxi raised her glass. “I was sent here by the Chinese government. They see her as too much of a threat too, especially since there are rumors going around that she’s close to finding the Chainsaw Devil.”

So, this was a conspiracy. But not just some nut-job thought up by humans; this one didn’t involve eating cookies and making a podcast about lizards in someone’s basement.

Angel was being forced to join a suicide squad. Because somehow, Angel knew that attempting to harm Makima would never work out. It was like someone suggesting walking to the moon or drinking a mountain—ridiculous and impossible.

The most pathetic part about this whole ordeal was that Angel didn’t even care about any of that. He had just realized something that made something in his mouth taste bitter.

Himeno and Aki had known of this, hadn’t they? That was why they dragged him out there in the first place, that was why they were acting so strange.

Their absence was not a coincidence. They had sold him out after seeing him fight this afternoon. Typical of humans. Angel shouldn’t even feel as disappointed as he did now—what did he expect? He knew he was a tool from the get-go; that was the entire point of his existence from their point of view.

Angel felt embarrassed at how naive he had been. It nearly made him sicker than the thrumming pain in his head. That’s just what humans were like. They took advantage of every weakness they could spot to use Angel like a fucking instrument. Because he was a Devil and straining their charity just by being alive.

“I’m not joining you.” Angel made himself look more voluminous by puffing up his wings and letting his halo glow a little brighter. “Makima freaks me out. Killing her is impossible, and attempting to will only lead to the death of the people who try.”

The giant Devil Hunter lifted one corner of his mouth into a smile, but his eyes remained untouched, giving him an even odder air. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned being a Devil Hunter, it’s that nothing’s impossible if you’re mad or determined enough.”

“I’m not! She might be a threat to society or something, but I don’t give a damn about your human civilization. Die if you want, die while trying to kill her, kill me. I do not care.”

A beat of silence, drowned out by the clatter of the bar around them. 

The Devil Hunter leaned a little closer, his voice barely above a whisper now. “We’ve been through some of her files. Does the name Atsuma, Hokkaido mean something to you?”

And with those simple words, he signed Angel's death sentence. 

Not really, Angel supposed he must still be alive, but the pain in his head indicated that he had been split into two pieces. He put both his palms to his temples, trying to press his head back together. “Never heard of it.”

The Devil Hunter and the Fiend looked at each other knowingly, which Angel was barely able to see over his blurring vision.

“Listen, she’s the cont—“

“Shut up.” Angel was surprised he was still able to speak, even if he was only able to mumble incoherently.

“—rol Devil, she’s proba—”

“Shut up!”

“—ly already manipulated you into—”

“Shut up!” Angel’s head felt like it started to crack under his fingers, and he stumbled backwards, away from those creeps. Away from the pain.

The woman tried to grab his shoulders, but Angel shielded himself with one wing, throwing over a table full of liquor in the motion. The shocked silence made the sound of bursting glass even louder.

The large Devil Hunter looked so pissed that Angel thought he would attack him. But to his surprise, he just turned around and loudly yelled to the crowd, “Sorry, my bad, I guess I’m a little tipsy.”

The woman turned her attention back to Angel, who was still frozen in shock.

“If you don’t believe us, look for yourself. Makima is required to keep files on her victims. Everything is explained in here.” She shoved a yellow note into Angel’s arms before he could whirl around and leave the club, the humans stumbling out of his way as if he were contagious.

***

Himeno was acting weird.

Well, she always kind of was. But now she acted weird even for herself. As soon as they entered the pub, she pulled Aki aside for a smoke break—something that wasn’t too peculiar for her.

The strange thing was how desperately she wanted to get into conversation with Aki. Normally, they just smoked in silence, talking about the weather or sports here and there, but now—

“So, uhm, how’s life been treating you?”

She leaned against the glass doors, seemingly relaxed as she exhaled a deep cloud of smoke.

Aki waved the smoke out of his way with a flick of his hand. “Work, like always.” He took one last drag before offering his cigarette to her. “I’m gonna go check on the Angel Devil; this is his first time drinking, and it’ll be me who’d have to do the paperwork if he accidentally ends up killing someone.”

That was the wrong move. Himeno’s eyes widened, her body tense as if she was ready to fight Aki not to go back inside. Then suddenly, she started grinning as if an idea had just come to her mind. “Oh, I see how it is.”

Aki rubbed the back of his neck. This wasn’t going to be fun. Himeno hadn’t seemed that drunk before, but maybe Aki had underestimated the situation.

“How what is?”

“Why you’ve kept refusing someone as perfect as me.” She flicked her head. If her hair had been long enough, that gesture would’ve been a bit more dramatic. This point had been a very sore one for quite some time—Aki was simply not romantically interested in Himeno. Her curves or attitude, which managed to drive quite a few guys wild, did nothing to him. He loved her as a friend, but nothing more. Aki had thought she had understood as much.

“So, what is your great idea?”

She put a finger to her lips and put on a thinking face, making an exaggerated “Hmm.” Was she making an effort to waste Aki’s time, or was this part of her being drunk?

“Let me think about it for a moment. Small, pretty redhead comes along, and the great Aki suddenly starts acting like an overprotective high-school crush.”

Aki physically stiffened to a board, his face growing a little pale against the light that was cast from inside the club. Who was she referring to?

“You. Have. No. Idea. What. You’re. Talking. About.” He pressed the words out one by one, his arms starting to quiver with—what exactly? Annoyance? Rage? Embarrassment?

Himeno raised her palms in a truce, sensing she had overstepped a line. “Chill out, dude. I was just joking.”

Aki relaxed a little, a headache starting to build beneath his temple. He leaned back on the railing and took another drag of his cigarette, blowing the smoke into the night sky.

He had a crush on Makima. That much was established. Makima was—soft and—uhm—had nice hair. There couldn’t be any comparison. So Himeno had been talking about her, right? There weren’t any other redheaded women Aki knew.

You know who she was talking about.

Nope. While homosexuality was legal in Japan, it might as well not have been with how conservatively the public viewed the subject. It went against all traditions and was just—well—wrong in their eyes.

On top of that, Angel was a Devil and quite clearly not capable of emotion or affection. You would have to be extremely deluded to be attracted to a being like him. It annoyed him that Himeno would even suggest such a perverse thing; she knew what happened to his family, after all. He had told her once, shortly after joining the Devil Hunter Association.

Aki leaned back onto the railing and took another deep drag, trying to keep his headache under control. Was he starting to grow too friendly towards the Angel Devil? Maybe Himeno wasn’t even talking about him. Maybe he was just… paranoid, slightly drunk.

The flame of his cigarette was nearing his fingers, making his skin prickle. He stubbed it out on the railing and threw the rest into a nearby ashtray. He moved to go inside but was stopped by Himeno, who tried to use her body to block Aki’s view of the inside of the pub once again.

“I’ve heard you’re searching for a new roommate—“

But Aki didn’t hear what she had to say.

Because Aki saw him.

The Angel Devil was pressed on the other side of the pub—he was being cornered by Kishibe and another woman with short, white hair. Angel held his hands up to his head and looked terrified. This was the first time Aki had ever seen the Devil wear an expression more passionate than mild surprise. This was different—something the Devil Hunters were telling him seemed to genuinely shake him to the core.

Aki moved on instinct, like always, when he wanted to protect someone. Well, “always” was pushing it—if his instincts had been as sharp when he was a kid, his family might’ve—whatever.

Himeno grabbed both his arms as he tried to rush past her. “Sorry, Aki, but it’s rude not to finish a conversation.”

Aki tried to shake her off while also keeping an eye on the events that were taking place inside the pub. To his utter horror, the white-haired Devil Hunter tried grabbing Angel. Aki wanted to yell at her through the window, but his voice was drowned out by the sound of breaking glass.

Himeno herself was more concerned with the activities that were going on in the pub than with her- obvious -assignment to keep Aki from interfering with them. He heard her curse under her breath as he finally opened the door and rushed into the pub.

Everything was still quiet, and everyone looked to the door, out of which Angel presumably had fled. Aki felt as if his muscles had transformed into batteries, they tingled and screamed at him to move- But what should Aki do? Start a fight with Kishibe and that strange woman or run after Angel?

Kishibe looked at him challengingly while taking a sip from his drink, his eyes seemed to be expressing ‘you do not stand a chance, kid.’

That’s why Aki decided a fight would be the better option. Fuck Kishibe. He did not have the right to mess with him or his patrol partner. He was a lot but no coward. He would not tolerate them threatening Angel.

So, Aki curled his hands to a fist, as he lounged feetfirst across the table and landed in front of the other Devil Hunter. Before he was able to take his swing, a vivid image came to his head.

Amber eyes.

“Oh no, Aki. Attacking a fellow Comission member? That just won’t do.”

But it was too late. His fist was already colliding with Kishibe’s jaw, Aki could feel the heat of the other’s skin on his knuckles. And if there was one thing worth knowing about Kishibe, it was that he was just as little of a coward as Aki.

Chapter Text

Just as every cop is a criminal 
And all the sinners saints 
As heads is tails, just call me Lucifer 
'Cause I'm in need of some restraint 

If Angel had picked up anything from his late-night Yahoo searches about human expression, it was that Aki looked like he was in a particularly bad mood. Which was a rather impressive observation, considering Aki always looked like he was in a bad mood to begin with.

There was a Winnie-the-Pooh patch across his left eyebrow, accompanied by a purple swelling. His already quite dismantled lip was being chewed on, and Aki gave the air in front of his face such a scowl that Angel was surprised he wasn’t already surrounded by vacuum.

Angel didn’t feel a whole lot of sympathy, though. The black-haired Devil Hunter had, after all, presumably sold him out yesterday. So, he just wordlessly sat next to him—trying to ignore the uncomfortable metal of the bench as he shifted his wings around himself.

Aki’s face changed as soon as he spotted Angel, making a funny twist that was too complicated for the Devil to understand. The human unfolded his crossed arms and legs and leaned forward a little. “Are you alright?”

Angel let his eyes trace over his demolished face again and perked an eyebrow—a newly learned human gesture he had grown quite fond of. Aki tapped his forehead and winced slightly. “I’m fine. What about you?”

“My face hasn’t been minced, as you should be able to tell.” Angel didn’t understand what the Devil Hunter was trying to get at and wasn’t in the mood for puzzles.

“Why do you look like that anyway? Did you fall off the balcony yesterday?”

That would’ve served the human right, at least. Angel was used to people trying to exploit his abilities and treating him like a little plastic knife that could be thrown away in an instant. But if he was being honest with himself, he had started thinking Aki wasn’t quite as bad. That might be why he was so much more pissed about it now.

Aki stopped chewing on his cracked lip again. “I got into a fight yesterday.”

“—Which you apparently lost.”

“Shut up.” He angled his head slightly away from Angel. “That’s why Makima wants to see me now anyway.”

Angel tightly clutched the yellow paper hidden in his pocket, the sharp edges digging into his flesh. “You’re getting fired? You should’ve told me earlier; I would’ve bought myself some champagne to celebrate.”

A lie—Angel didn’t get a salary from the Safety Commission.

Aki threw his hands, one of them still tightly wrapped in a bandage, into the air, exasperated. “Why are you acting like this again? I thought we were making progress!”

Angel felt a pang of rage now. He was okay with being a tool, but he did not appreciate being criticized. “I’m still doing it, okay? You don’t need to shout at me.”

“Doing what?” Aki’s eyes had widened slightly, his irises barely reaching his lower eyelids.

Angel looked at him, something strange spreading inside his chest. “Your friends didn’t tell you what they wrote?”

“Friends? Do you mean Kishibe and that woman from yesterday? What have they written to you?”

They? Did that mean Aki hadn’t been involved in those lunatics’ plan? He hadn’t intentionally sicced them on Angel?

Angel countered his sudden relief with an even more deadpan expression. “It doesn’t matter.”

At that exact moment, the door to Makima’s office swung open, and Aki sat up so straight Angel could’ve sworn he heard something pop in the human’s back. Makima stepped out, a smile still playing on her lips—though Angel could somehow sense she was feeling more murderous than usual.

“Hello, Aki. Angel. Please, I need to have a word with just Aki for a moment.”

Aki didn’t look back at Angel as he slowly stood up and followed Makima into her office, the door softly closing behind them.

Angel waited. The pumping of his unusually fast-beating heart was the only thing he could hear. Then he got up, nearly slumping back down as his legs staggered beneath him. He needed to stay calm if he wanted to pull this off.

After last night’s events, he had to return to Public Safety headquarters on foot—an endeavor that took far longer than it should have. When he was finally back in the solitude of his prison—uhm, apartment—Angel had felt so relieved that he nearly forgot about his nausea and headed straight for a bath.

The notion of simply scrubbing off this uncanny feeling that had been sitting in his stomach like a fat slug seemed delightful.

Angel was too lazy to remove all his clothes and gave up halfway. Still dressed in jeans and a top—not his, anyway—he sank beneath the hot water’s surface. The fabric clung uncomfortably to his skin, his hair flopped across his face, and the feathers of his wings began to soak and grow heavy.

He had forgotten about the dubious note that had been thrust into his arms by the white-haired woman, so he was surprised when he felt the wet—yet still sharp-edged—paper bumping against his arm.

Sluggishly, he sat up straighter and uncurled the soggy paper, nearly tearing it in the process.

**

Devil,

We are an organization called AMEN – the Anti-Makima Empowerment Network. We’ve tried reaching out to you before, so you should already be familiar with our goals.

While going through some of Makima’s files, we stumbled across some interesting information about your specific case. It might be of interest to you, so we’ve added a tactic that—if followed correctly—you can use to read it for yourself.

How to Break Makima’s Curse – A Beginner’s Course

Step One: Get something to cover your scent. (We’ve left some perfume at your apartment—you can use that.) Makima can identify people by smell, so you need to be careful she doesn’t catch on.

Step Two: Get close to her office.

Step Three: Make sure she’s distracted.

Step Four: Open the door to room 521A. (You probably have an ability handy for that.) Enter without being seen.

Step Five: Go through the drawer with a blue label—find the file called “ἄγγελος - 1996 C.”

Step Six: Read it, then put it back in the exact same spot.

Step Seven: Make a quick escape.

**

Angel had been lost for words. This note read like it had been written by an eight-year-old. Cover his scent? The entire plan was flawed, dangerous, and sounded exhausting. No person in their right mind would even consider going through with it.

But Angel was neither a person, nor in his right mind.

The Devil hid behind a water dispenser. He was painfully aware that the transparent plastic only distorted his body—it didn’t actually cover him—but since no one else was in the office corridor, he just hoped it didn’t matter. He took a few deep breaths as he pulled out the blue bottle of perfume Himeno had given him yesterday.

He wasn’t doing this because those crazy people wanted him to. He wasn’t doing it out of curiosity, either. He was doing it because some deep instinct—lodged in the back of his mind—kept urging him to.

It was like a rusty nail had been shoved into his brain, begging to be pulled free. If Angel kept ignoring it, he’d probably die. And Angel didn’t want to die anymore—at least, not quite yet.

Clenching his teeth and pinching his nose so he wouldn’t have to smell the sickly-sweet scent, he quickly sprayed the contents of the bottle across his body and clothes. He nearly gagged as the fumes made their way into his throat, but he managed to keep himself from making too much noise.

He gingerly opened an office window, leaning his entire upper body out while trying to suppress a coughing fit. After a quick deliberation, he took the—now half-empty—glass bottle and slid it into his pocket.

Feeling a little queasy from the fumes, he stalked down the corridor and made his way to the door labeled 521A. He slid his hand across the metal door handle and bent down, carefully assessing the lock. It seemed like he might be able to materialize a key using some of his stored life span.

He pushed slightly against the door, which—causing Angel to yelp in surprise—gave beneath his weight and sent him tumbling inside the dim room.

Hastily, Angel shut the door behind him, breathing heavily through gritted teeth. He assessed the room with a quick glance—metal drawers covered the walls and towered over the space. Cracks in the shut blinds allowed slivers of white sunlight to spill into the room, casting unnerving patterns across the surfaces.

There didn’t seem to be any security cameras—what a relief.

“Uhm, good morning, lady.”

Angel whirled around, fists clenched and wings ready to shield his body. A dirty-blond teen was hunched over in the corner, mouth open and eyes wide. One of his legs was halfway into a black trouser leg; he didn’t seem to be wearing anything else but a pair of unclean boxers.

Angel relaxed slightly once he realized he wasn’t about to be attacked—yet. “I’m not a female.”

“No way!” The teen yanked the trousers fully over his spindly legs. Angel now recognized the fabric as the Safety Commission’s uniform. He also spotted a strange cord coming from the teen’s ribcage. Probably a Hybrid.

“What, should I pull out my dick to prove it to you?” Angel snapped dryly, his gaze drifting across the rows of metal drawers.

This seemed to end the Hybrid’s interest in Angel’s gender, judging by the gagging sound he made. “God, no!”

The flash of blue labels to Angel’s left made his heart skip a beat and his throat tighten. So, this was it, huh?

He let his attention drift back to the Hybrid, who was now far less interested in him and more focused on fiddling with the tie around his neck.

Would he tell Makima if he saw Angel going through her files? Probably—but the human also seemed like a complete idiot. Hopefully, he wouldn’t even remember seeing Angel at all.

The Devil quickly stepped toward the blue-labeled drawer, sliding it open and letting his hand wander across the rough surface of the hundreds of sheets of paper inside. What a pain.

He picked some out at random, skimming the letters until he found a few that matched the strange language used in his instructions. From there, he quickly pulled out one after the other, until finally—he reached his file.

It wasn’t as full as many of the others, but it felt incredibly heavy to Angel as he gingerly pulled it out, leaving a gap so he’d remember where to put it back.

Angel slid to the floor, his wings spreading out around him like a miniature tent, and opened the yellow folder, revealing the first page inside.

**
Angel Devil

Species: Devil

Gender: Male

Height: 155 cm (5'1")

Age: Unknown

Classification: Subdued

Subdued in: Hama-Atsuma Station

Kill count (current lifespan): Approximately 79

Note: Resided in a rural village in Atsuma, Hokkaido.

**

There was static in Angel’s head. He couldn’t hear the shuffling of the teenage Hybrid anymore, couldn’t feel the floor beneath him—he felt like he was floating in nothingness, only his eyes and the paper in his numb hands remaining.

The headache had returned, with the vigor of a door being slammed into his face. Even worse, the hot pain grew with the sound of small footsteps, approaching the office.

“Denji, are you done changing your clothes? You can meet your new roommate now.”

Angel looked at the shadow cast beneath the half-open door, his pulse thundering in his ears. He felt like he was being crushed as he frantically searched for a place to hide.

“Can you give me a minute?” Denji glanced at Angel, still fiddling with his tie.

“Fine. Please hurry up, though.” The footsteps faded, and Angel let out a sigh of relief.

He wanted to swallow his pride and thank the human, but was interrupted first. “Do you know how to tie a tie? I don’t want Makima to see I’m good for nothin’ just yet.”

Angel stared at him in disbelief—the human didn’t seem to understand Angel’s situation at all. Which was good.

“You can use mine.” He loosened his own tie and slid it off his neck, chucking it in Denji’s direction.

The teenage Hybrid caught it clumsily but grinned at Angel while he slid the fabric on.

“Thanks, dude!”

“Wait.” Through all the turmoil in Angel’s head, a clear thought simmered to the surface.

“Do you want some of my perfume? Humans... uh, lady humans really like the smell, or so I’ve heard.”

The yellow note had clearly instructed Angel to be careful not to let Makima trace his presence by scent. If the entire office with the secret documents suddenly reeked of perfume, she might get suspicious.

“Woah, are you serious?” Denji gingerly lifted the bottle Angel had placed on the floor between them and held it up to the light. “You’re the best!”

Angel just nodded and watched as the Hybrid sprayed the rest of the bottle onto his clothes—prompting quite a bit of coughing.

“Can I ask you for a favor in return?”

Denji set the glass bottle onto the nearest shelf and nodded enthusiastically. “Sure, dude.”

“Would you mind not telling Makima I was here?” Angel forced his lips into an awkward upward curve, hoping to imitate a smile.

“I’m not exactly supposed to be in here, but I needed to look at some documents—”

“No worries!” The teenager grinned down at Angel and mimed zipping his lips. “I won’t snitch.”

Angel nodded as the human turned to leave. “See you ‘round, bro.”

“Hope not,” Angel muttered under his breath as the door closed behind the Hybrid and he was left alone.

Rubbing his temples, he slid the first sheet of paper aside, revealing: The Incident – Third of July, 1996.

Chapter Text

How I wish, how I wish you were here
We're just two lost souls swimming in a fishbowl, year after year
Runnin' over the same old ground, what have we found?
The same old fears, wish you were here

-Wish You Were Here by Pink Floyd, 1975

"Miss Makima, you cannot be serious about this. I already have to put up with a Devil as a patrol partner—how can you expect me to—"

Aki forced himself to look at the teenager next to him without grimacing, which proved exceedingly difficult, especially since said teenager was currently picking his nose. A hint of a smile lingered in Makima's voice, but Aki could tell she was not at all pleased with him.

"Denji is a Hybrid, not a Devil. And he needs someone to keep an eye on him."

"But I—" Aki's resolve was starting to crack, when Makima gingerly placed a warm set of fingers on the back of his hand.

"I know it's going to be difficult, but you can do it, can't you? I've heard you were thinking about getting a roommate anyway."

Deep down, Aki knew this was simply punishment for trying to beat up Kishibe the other night. But he had never been able to refuse anything Makima suggested, and he wasn't about to start now.

"I'm not working with you, Miss Makima?!" Denji's voice cracked an octave upward, and Aki had to suppress the urge to roll his eyes.

Just one glance was enough for him to tell that the only thing motivating Denji was the hope of getting with Makima someday—the thought was disgusting, to say the least. Was this why the teenager smelled so utterly vile? To impress Makima? It was like he'd dumped an entire bottle of women's perfume over his clothes, though Aki doubted he had the money for any kind of perfume by the looks of him.

"Of course you're not working with her."

The Hybrid looked crestfallen, and his mouth even started to quiver. This whole ordeal reminded Aki painfully of his first meeting with the Angel Devil. Why couldn't someone be grateful to work with Aki for once?

"Makima is completely out of your league." Aki grabbed the sleeve of his new roommate and dragged him toward the door. "We're going on patrol."

Denji gave a pathetic squeak and tried to wriggle out of Aki's grip. Makima gracefully stepped around her desk and whispered something into the teenager's ear, causing him to blush heavily. "I'll do my best, Miss Makima!"

This was seriously starting to get out of hand. Aki needed to get the little shit to quit this job immediately—for both their sakes. He wasn't interested in having another colleague die right in front of him. Those with shallow motivation always bit the bullet first, and this kid probably wouldn't even make it through the week.

Aki tentatively clenched his bruised fists. Even if he had just gotten in trouble for trying to beat someone up, maybe he should try again. If he gave the kid a bad enough beating, he might run off in time. The east wing of the building was usually deserted at this time of day—if he was lucky, nobody would walk in on him.

"Hey, buddy, you know if Makima has a boyfriend?"

Buddy?

Aki whirled around and curled his hands into fists, but before he could act, a small sound distracted him—a mixture between a gust of wind and a clogged water pipe.

Denji seemed to have noticed it too; he audibly shut his mouth and followed Aki's gaze down the corridor. Aki put one finger to his lips and the other to the sword hilt on his back. "Stay here and don't make a noise."

But the teenager didn't seem to have enough of a brain to do that.

"Is someone there?" he shouted, briskly stepping in the direction of the noise. All Aki could do was curse under his breath and follow him. Denji pushed open a door that led to a secluded corridor Aki had never previously entered—then froze, causing Aki to nearly bump into him.

He shoved the teenager grumpily to the side and—

The entirety of his worldview shattered, leaving him with nothing but shambles.

A Devil. Emotionless and nihilistic. Crying.

He was hunched over, his wings leaning against an office door, his knees drawn to his slightly red and swollen face. Tears clung to his lashes, but he stared at the two of them with his usual expressionless face—which looked extremely uncanny.

"Holy shit, it's the dude from earlier."

Denji had made his way behind Aki and was gawking at Angel with poorly hidden curiosity.

Nope. Something was wrong. This wasn't possible.

Denji fidgeted on the spot, glancing between Aki and the Devil. "Should we, like... get outta here?"

The Angel Devil had never displayed any human emotion besides fear, surprise, or malice. He wasn't capable of feeling. Seeing him cry made Aki feel sick—like he was witnessing something forbidden. A glitch in the matrix.

Aki felt his muscles unfreeze and, as if to make up for lost time, he jolted forward, kneeling next to the Devil. "Angel, what happened?"

Despite the Devil looking up at Aki, he didn't seem to truly see him—his eyes watery and unfocused. "Why have I forgotten? How could I ever forget what Makima did to me?"

Makima? Was Angel hallucinating?

"You're talking nonsense! Should I call an ambulance?"

Denji let some air escape noisily from his mouth as he trotted behind Aki. "Chill, dude. He's not wounded or anything."

Aki wanted to kill the fucker on the spot, but he was distracted by Angel wiping away some tears.

"Here," he mumbled, fumbling in his pocket and quickly pulling out a handkerchief.

Angel took it gingerly and dabbed his face clean, seemingly confused as to why tears were still welling in his eyes. "Go away. I don't want any humans near me."

At least he seemed well enough to be slipping back into his usual human-hating mindset.

"What happened?" Aki repeated, this time with a steady voice.

The Devil emitted an extremely odd smell of artificial sweetness—just like Denji did—but he seemed physically healthy, as far as Aki could tell. "Didn't you hear me? I told you to get lost."

In response, Aki simply sat down opposite the Devil and pulled out a cigarette. Just the feeling of the paper nestled in the webbing of his hand made him feel instantly better. They weren't supposed to smoke inside Headquarters, but Aki didn't care at this point.

They sat in silence for a couple of minutes, the faint crackling of Aki's cigarette and Denji's restless fidgeting the only sounds. Aki was impressed the teenager had managed to keep his mouth shut for more than a few seconds.

After the third bit of ash had crumbled to the floor between Aki's crossed legs, Angel spoke again—his voice sounding as if a huge chunk of his vocal cords were missing. "Why are you still here?"

"We're still on duty, as far as I'm aware," Aki replied, glancing at his wristwatch. "So for the next two hours and fifty minutes, you're either going to tell me what's wrong or get a grip."

A lie. Actually, Aki was supposed to be patrolling with Denji, but he doubted Angel had ever taken the time to study their timetable.

The Devil made an indignant noise, but the tears had stopped running down his face. "Fuck you, Hayakawa."

"I can cook something for you, if you want." Aki stood up and pinched out his cigarette between the tips of his index finger and thumb.

Denji made an excited noise, and the faintest bit of clarity returned to Angel's eyes.

Somehow, food always seemed to be the solution to Aki's problems.

***

Angel had nearly drowned once.

It had been an extremely stupid affair on top of everything.

But now, under the heavy stream of water in the shower of Aki's apartment, it all came flooding back to him.

He could remember the hot sand beneath his shoulder blades, the view of the clouded sky above him, and a single pink ribbon being swept along his field of vision. The ribbon had been caught by the wind, tugged away, and hurled into the merciless ocean.

The pink of the fabric had looked so strange in contrast to the gray waves, swaying between the tides that ripped it back and forth. Angel had stared at it for what felt like an eternity. The sand had crunched beneath his feet and clung to his body as he neared the coastline, little remnants of waves clutching and pulling at his ankles.

He had never tried swimming before—or at least couldn't remember doing it. But why else would he have been lying in that exact spot, if not to retrieve the ribbon?

Something had felt just right about the cold, smooth sensation of the waves against the hot skin of his chest and arms. Now, completely submerged in the salty water, his wings were the only thing holding him back from darting through it like one of the fish he'd been observing before.

It felt easy. Angel could do anything.

Then it went wrong.

Just as his hands had brushed over the wet fabric, the waves seized him, tugging him away from the shoreline and away from the clouded sky.

It was dumb to explain that you couldn't breathe underwater—an obvious statement to pretty much anyone. But Angel now remembered exactly how it felt: being unable to breathe.

The water was everywhere, like a million hands tugging at him, pinching his nose shut, trying to pull him down to the ocean floor.

He had held onto that ribbon like it could keep him from sinking. But of course, it didn't.

Just as Angel's muscles began to grow limp and his vision turned black, something grabbed him around the waist and shoulder. Those delicate hands were the only warm and solid things in the sea around him, pulling him away from the clutches and rhythm of the waves.

Back at the shoreline, Angel had collapsed on the sand, looking up at his savior—a young human, her hair clinging to her neck and collarbone. She gasped for air as if she were the one who had nearly drowned, but a wide grin still spread across her face.

Angel had lifted his arm and offered her the ribbon wordlessly. It couldn't make up for the time she'd lost that day, but he had promised himself he would make up for it by dedicating all his remaining time to her.

Or so he had planned.

The shower ran down his face. It wasn't ocean water now, but he could still taste a little salt.

He was staring at his hands, clutched tightly around the shower arm. It was the same hand he had touched her with—the hand in which her skin had grown cold.

Didn't he once have a ring on it?

A human tradition so important to the woman he had once loved, she had spent weeks picking one out for them.

What had the jewelry looked like again? Where did it end up? How could he have forgotten? How could he have forgotten her? What he had taken from her?

Makima.

She had been the one to force him. She had been the one to make him forget.

He couldn't ever forget it again.

He had to remember it. Had to engrave it into his mind. Engrave it into his body.

Angel's gaze, a little blurry from the water, fell upon the razor lying next to the transparent shower doors. He could've materialized a tool himself, but he didn't want to use any lifespan—what if it was hers? He wasn't ready to face her just yet in his dreams.

Pressing a palm against the glass of the door, Angel slid it open and let the water spill onto the tiles on the floor.

Remember what you've done.

He extended his arm, still dripping little droplets everywhere, and let his fingers slide around the cold metal blade. It might get rusty because of his soaked hand, he hoped Aki wouldn't mind.

Engrave it into your mind.

He set the cold blade against soft skin and urged himself not to look away.

Engrave it into your body.

He jerked his hand forward and blood started to mingle with the water, flowing down the line of his body and swirling a little, as it went down the drain.

The pain seemed dull to Angel.

***

The sizzling of a pan had always sounded like heavy rain to Aki. He'd once read in an article that some movie companies actually used the sound of roasting bacon as a rain effect.

The rice simmered gently, steam rising from it and filling the apartment with a warm, welcoming smell. Aki stirred it a few times with a wooden spoon and added another dash of sauce.

The Denji kid seemed to notice the aroma too, judging by the contented sigh he let out from across the kitchen. Ever since they'd entered Aki's apartment, he had looked ridiculously happy—like a puppy being introduced to a new home. It pissed Aki off, but he couldn't help feeling a little flattered that at least someone appreciated his spotless cleaning.

Maybe having him as a roommate wasn't too bad—wait. Aki had to glance over his shoulder twice in shock. Was Denji still wearing his outdoor shoes?

They weren't even clean. Aki could see little spots of dirt clinging to the grooves of his heels.

The Devil Hunter forced himself to calm down. He could yell at the kid later—he didn't have the energy right now. Just dealing with Angel had already been more than enough. Speaking of the Devil—what was taking him so long?

Aki had forced him into the shower about twenty minutes ago, but no human—or Devil—should take that long. Could they?

Maybe he just needed a bit of privacy. Still, Aki had a feeling he should check on him. "Can you watch the pan?"

He quickly unstrapped his apron and beckoned the teenager forward. "What? Just—watch it? But I was already doing that."

Aki had to fight hard not to get violent again.

"Stir it a bit with this spoon, and if it starts smelling burnt, take it off the stove, okay?" Denji nodded vigorously and stood in front of the pan, his face twisted in concentration. What an idiot.

Aki made his way to the bathroom, which only took a few seconds—his apartment was relatively small. He knocked tentatively on the door, trying to ignore the ache in his knuckles from the fight with Kishibe. The water was still running, and a little fog was leaking from under the door.

"Angel, the food is nearly done. If you could hurry a bit?"

No answer. The water continued running, sounding almost deafening through the shut door. Aki felt that strange sensation again—a tug in his throat, a bitter taste in his mouth.

"Angel?"

His voice was raised now; he was sure even Denji could hear him over the sizzling pan in the kitchen. That's when Aki noticed a small puddle of water spreading alongside the fog seeping from the crack beneath the door. Something was wrong.

"I'm coming in."

He slid the door open and stepped inside, the dense fog vanishing in the rush of cold air from the hallway. Aki nearly slipped on the large puddle that had spread across the floor tiles. He could smell something strange—metallic.

Why was the door to the shower open? He moved toward it, the fog making it hard to see—and froze.

Why was there red?

So much fucking red.

Red clogging the drain. Red soaking white feathers. Red curls clinging to a limp body. Aki's heart missed a beat.

This was a thousand times worse than anything he had experienced in a Devil fight. He had signed up to see his colleagues die. He had seen human stomachs slurped like spaghetti noodles, seen flesh torn open and bones snapped like twigs.

But this was something else entirely.

An image so unsettling it etched itself into his mind, a vision that would haunt him for a long time. The only word that came close to describing the feeling crawling through his insides was: dread.

For a moment, Aki moved on pure instinct, his mind a cold haze—his body lunging to grab Angel and pull him from the tub. If the scalding shower water soaking his sleeve hadn't jolted him, he would've lost a few more years of his life. His mind finally began to kick in.

He turned the shower off and shouted to Denji. "Get my phone! Now!"

The teenager seemed to sense something was off in Aki's tone and obeyed without complaint.

Aki's wet fingerprints smeared the glass display as he scrolled through his contact list.

Should he call 119? Would they even agree to treat a Devil—especially one as dangerous as Angel? No. There was only one other option—

"Hello?"

"Miss Makima, please. The Angel Devil, he—he's..." The words clogged Aki's throat, choking him.

Makima, however, didn't sound worried. "Yes? Is something wrong?"

Aki took a few deep breaths, trying to ignore the stench of blood and Denji's panicked shuffling at the door. "He's hurt. He'll need medical treatment. As quickly as possible."

"Okay." The faint sound of hair brushing against fabric told Aki that Makima was nodding. "I'll send some help, then."

The line was cut dead and Aki let his arm sink, putting the phone on the edge of the sink. He hadn't even given Makima their location, how would she be able to know where the Angel Devil and him were? Would they even be able to do anything? Did they even care what happened to a Devil? Would Aki have cared in their situation? He didn't want to take chances.

After grabbing a towel and wrapping it carefully around his arms, he bent down and attempted lifting Angel out of the tub. His head lolled on Aki's shoulder, his lips pale and his eyes shut tightly.

"Move out of the way."

Denji seemed to consider disobeying the order but, luckily, stepped out of the doorframe. Aki pressed Angel's limp body against his torso before exiting the bathroom and laying the Devil down on the couch.

He tried to bite back the bile rising in his throat as he stared at the injury. He doubted even blood could heal what Angel had done to himself—but he had to try, at least.

Quickly, he ran to the kitchen and retrieved his sharpest knife. The pan was now emitting black smoke, and the charred rice was close to catching fire, but Aki couldn't be bothered.

He scrambled back to the Angel Devil and let the edge of the knife hover over his hand, before reconsidering and moving it to his forearm instead. The thought of cutting so close to his fingers sent a chill down his spine.

Angel's eyelashes fluttered open as the blood began dripping into his mouth again. His lips were instantly stained by the red liquid, and Aki had to fight the urge to wipe away the drizzle running from the corner of his mouth to his jawline.

The Devil limply lifted his good arm in protest, and Aki reluctantly complied after a few more seconds, pressing the towel from earlier against the cut on his own arm. "What have you done?"

Angel's eyes widened slightly at the tone in his voice, and he let his gaze drift down to his left hand—or what remained of it, at least. "It's not as bad as it looks. Just a finger."

Aki's head was just static now. It felt like the last few minutes had been the longest of his entire life. "Why did you do it, then?"

"You wouldn't understand." 

Aki had to suppress a sound somewhere between laughter and a yell. That was always Angel's answer, wasn't it?

You wouldn't understand. They could never understand each other. He didn't know why he'd ever assumed otherwise.

He slumped down next to the couch, staring at the ceiling so he wouldn't have to look at the Devil.

After a few seconds, Angel sat up and let a single feather from his wing sweep across Aki's neck. "I'm sorry your rice is overcooked."

Aki sighed, itching for another cigarette but feeling too drained to pull one out.

"We'll have to order takeout now, I guess."

Chapter Text

Time takes a cigarette, puts it in your mouth
You pull on your finger
Then another finger, then cigarette
The wall-to-wall is calling
It lingers, then you forget

-Rock n' Roll Suicide by David Bowie, 1972

Dearest family,

I know it's the end of June, and I usually visit you around this time of year, but my boss couldn't give me any time off.

Aki slumped back even further against the wall, the washing machine humming reassuringly at his shoulder. Every fiber in his body felt sore, and he really wanted a hot bath—but he also knew the shower drain was clogged, and he didn't have the energy to fish out another clump of hair.

Over the last few weeks, I've had to do quite a bit of readjusting.

Aki winced as he heard the tap of bare feet waddling past the laundry room. He pulled his knees closer to his chest and held his breath; he just wanted a few more minutes of peace and quiet.

You see, I found myself with not one, not two, but three new roommates. Four, if you count the goddamn cat.

"Aki, Power's stolen my socks!"

"Lies! All you do is spit lies, mortal!"

Aki pressed the notepad closer to his knees and kept scribbling.

They are the biggest pains in the ass I've ever encountered rather difficult to handle. One of them keeps wearing shoes inside the house, and another threw a vegetable at me the other day! The third one is the worst, though—all he does is complain about the household without ever lifting a finger helping.

"What do you guys think is for dinner?"

"No idea. I ate some eggs out of the fridge, so I'm already full."

Aki sucked in a breath. He had planned to cook tamagoyaki. Now he probably had to drive Denji to the hospital because of salmonella poisoning.

How did I end up in this situation, you might ask?

The Angel Devil was deemed "a danger to company property and personnel if unsupervised" (the company property and personnel being himself), after he cut off the ring finger of his own left hand.

The thought of that incident still made Aki uneasy, but Denji and Power had already decided to make a game out of who could come up with the most finger-related jokes.

"Don't let this slip through your fingers, Angel!" "Wanna finger some chicks together, Angel?" "Why did the finger cross the road?" (The jokes kept getting worse at an alarming rate and, in Aki's opinion, were never funny to begin with—though Angel didn't really seem to mind.)

Because of this unexpected display of self-harm—after having proven he was capable of assisting the company—Angel had been placed under Aki's surveillance by Makima.

Aki was secretly glad he could keep an eye on the Devil, but Angel hadn't once seemed like a threat to himself again.

He spent all his free time—and Aki was not exaggerating when he said all his time—in the small room next to the bathroom, sleeping. If cats slept between twelve to eighteen hours a day, Angel had somehow managed to double that.

The Devil only poked his head of messy red hair out willingly four times a day: breakfast, lunch, afternoon snack, and dinner. The rest of the time, Aki had to literally drag him around, which wasn't made easier by the non-touching rule.

Then there was Power.

Aki had never thought there could be a messier person than Denji, but the Blood Devil somehow managed to exceed even his lowest expectations. She acted like a wild animal that had grown up in a trash can and was now set on transforming the rest of the world into her old home. Aki had spent more time cleaning up after the three of them in a day than he had spent doing his actual job in the past month.

A knock on the door made him jump to his feet instantly. "Aki, I know you're in there, so make me dinner before I ask Power to cook instead."

That little dipshit.

The last—and only—time Power had attempted cooking unsupervised, Aki's kitchen had been turned into a suitable set for a horror film.

"If you're going to be lazy, you could at least copy Denji and eat out of the fridge!"

"Who says that I don't?" Angel was already retreating to his room, leaving Aki with only the humming of the washing machine. "But your food tastes so much better."

Aki sighed deeply, gathered up his notepad and ballpoint pen, and trudged out of the room.

Things at my job are going smoothly. (None of my coworkers have been killed in over a month which doubles the last record) I'm in a new division full of quite special people, so maybe that checks out. The weather is hot and I wished I could see a little nature from time to time.

Denji, luckily, did not get salmonella poisoning. He, Power, and Angel ended up arguing over the last bit of dinner, though, which led to him being knocked out and an antique lamp split in two.

Maybe Aki should call insurance and tell them all his roommates only lived with him because of his job—making everything being destroyed a "workplace accident."

Maybe he should just sue Public Safety. Makima would probably be disappointed if he did the latter, though.

Gathering all the remaining tableware, Aki stepped to the kitchen sink and started rinsing the plates and cutlery. The water was nearly burning his fingers, but Aki liked the feeling of the steam curling upward from the dishes onto his bare arms.

After he'd placed the tableware into the dishwasher, he grabbed a packet of cigarettes from his bedside cabinet and headed for the balcony.

The sun had already set, leaving the city with only the faintest hint of orange light reflected in the glass windows. The air outside wasn't half as chilly as it should have been—warmer even than inside the house.

Aki still undid his topknot and let his hair cool the hot skin on his neck, if only temporarily. Sitting down on the folding chair, he lit his cigarette with a flick of his lighter and leaned his head back with a deep exhale of smoke.

"The city is loud."

The Angel Devil was right. Aki tried to ignore the constant sound of traffic and the shouting of people, but the noise often seeped into his mind anyway. "Is that why you're here? Couldn't sleep? That would be a first."

"Something like that." Scratching his ankle with the arch of his foot, the Angel Devil stepped further onto the balcony. "Why are you always smoking?"

Aki couldn't help but feel a little offended.

"I'm not always smoking. It's just something that helps humans relax."

"Not just humans." Angel folded his arms onto the handrails and let his chin rest on them. "I once met a Devil that was highly addicted to inhaling pot."

Aki couldn't decide whether that image was terrifying or hilarious, so he continued puffing out smoke in silence, sneaking glances at Angel.

"It was Himeno."

"Huh?" Angel seemed to have completely drifted off during the short pause in their conversation. Aki vaguely wondered what could've captured his attention so thoroughly—it was probably either murder- or food-related. "Himeno got me into smoking. I think she just wanted someone to talk to during her smoke breaks."

Aki could remember the way she used to pester him about it—how terrified he'd been of getting addicted. He'd never admit it out loud, but he had probably reached the stage of addiction a long time ago.

"But do you even like it?"

That was not a question Aki had expected. Usually, people tried to warn him about health risks when they were talking about this topic. It shortens your life, you know. You are just begging for cancer at this point! His answer had always been the same for those questions: If I wanted to live a long life I'd have become an insurance claim adjuster and not a Devil Hunter.

Angel had never really cared about the health of humans—he only ever seemed to show interest in superficial, short-term happiness.

"I'm fine with it now. I like the smoke; as soon as it's released from the cigarette, it disintegrates into the air. Kind of beautiful, don't you think?"

Angel stared at him with that emotionless face of his before lowering his head in what could've been a chuckle—if he were anybody else. "That's morbid."

"Shut up." Aki straightened up and brushed a bit of ash from the hem of his pants.

What was he doing, arguing about his smoking habits with a literal Devil?

"Can I try?"

Aki felt his eyes widen slightly, though he shouldn't have been surprised. The Angel Devil had never been reserved when he wanted to enjoy something human. "Sure, I'll—"

Fumbling for a new cigarette, Aki nearly dropped the entire pack when Angel slowly leaned down toward him, his breath warm on Aki's face.

The Devil smelled distinctly less artificially sweet than he had the day Aki had found him crying in headquarters. He carried a fresh scent that still felt unsettlingly non-human. Aki numbly thought about pushing him away, but his survival reflexes didn't seem to kick in—only allowing him to shut his eyes in anticipation.

Instead of the lethal touch of skin, he felt the cigarette being plucked from his mouth, and his eyes fluttered open again.

Angel turned the smoke between his fingers before slowly bringing it to his own lips.

Aki couldn't break eye contact, and his pulse quickened even further as Angel took a long drag, his chest expanding, a few strands of hair falling into his face.

Then Angel put a hand in front of his mouth and started coughing. "Jesus Christ, this is horrible!"

"What did you expect?" Aki pressed the palm of his hand to his face, realizing with a pang of embarrassment that it had heated up.

Angel let the cigarette plop down onto the small table next to Aki's chair and stepped back. "Not this. You spend all your free time inhaling burned plant matter only for it to taste like shit."

The sheer nerve of this creature—stealing his cigarette and then complaining about it! "You don't smoke because it tastes good!"

"I now realize that myself. Humans really are freaks." They glowered at each other from across the balcony, but Aki could tell Angel didn't mind quarreling with him that much.

It was the way his wings were draped behind his back—if they were puffed up, Angel was angry. That wasn't the case now.

"Do you remember the night when you injured yourself?"

Angel raised an eyebrow at Aki's poor attempt at conversation. "I won't ever forget that."

He wriggled his left hand in front of his face, showing off the gap between his middle finger and his pinky.

"One of your feathers sort of brushed my skin. Does that mean my lifespan—"

"No."

Angel's wings twitched slightly; Aki couldn't tell exactly what emotion caused it. "My feathers aren't connected to the nervous system. They're just like hair. They don't drain lifespan."

"Good. You had me worried there for a bit."

That wasn't a lie. Aki had spent far too much time thinking about that little contact—whether it meant he would die early, whether that was why Angel had done it.

Now that he knew it didn't... he'd probably wonder about it even more. "Why do you even have feathers in the first place?"

Angel turned back to the edge of the balcony, reaching up to the sky with his left hand.

"I should be able to fly."

If Aki had possessed a camera—or any talent in the arts whatsoever—he might've captured a picture of Angel's silhouette against the sparkling outline of the city.

It probably would've made him quite a lot of money, too.

"Should?"

"I never really tried it."

"Scared you'll fall?"

Angel rolled his eyes in Aki's direction—when had the Devil learned to do that? "If you're already at the bottom of the stairs, you can't go any lower."

"Who's morbid now?"

Angel crossed his arms in front of his chest and looked away, clearly offended.

The gesture was so incredibly human—had the Devil always had this much emotion? When did he change?

Aki couldn't stop himself from reaching out and running one finger across a feather of Angel's wings.

It felt warm in the summer air but far less fluffy than it looked. Angel shuffled his wings a little but didn't otherwise react.

"Flying skills could be very useful in combat against Devils, you know." (And I'll bet I'd look amazing in a photograph, Aki added in his mind.)

A few seconds of silence followed—somehow the air around them seemed to have turned several degrees cooler.

"Why are you even doing this?"

Angel's voice was as impassive as ever, but Aki imagined it hiding a chilling undertone.

"What?"

"Since I first met you, I thought all you cared about was killing Devils. Do you really enjoy killing us that much?"

Aki couldn't help but notice the us, and he instantly felt like he had to go on the defensive. "Devils have killed so many—"

Angel didn't seem to hear him—he was now gripping the balcony rails, his knuckles turning white. "Is it because of Makima? You're in love with her."

It was a statement, not a question.

Still, Aki suddenly felt like he needed to explain it—deny it even. How had this conversation turned so wrong so quickly?

"It's not because of her. It's because I want revenge."

Angel made a bitter noise in the back of his throat.

"Revenge, huh. I don't get why everybody's so hung up on that. People expect others to make revenge their primary motivator the moment something bad happens to them. The dead stay dead, and nothing's going to change that. Why would anyone bother?"

Aki clenched his fists, feeling anger flare in his chest. "You couldn't understand. If you lose everything that's important to you in a heartbeat, you want to make the Devil who did that pay."

What did Angel know about loss? He never had a family to begin with, never cared about anything. How did he dare question Aki's decisions?

"And that'll bring them back?"

Aki's annoyance ebbed away instantly, leaving only an empty feeling in the pit of his stomach.

He realized that this question wasn't hypothetical anymore—and it wasn't even about the Gun Devil. What was Angel talking about now?

"There's only one way to find out."

"I guess so." Angel didn't look at him. He turned his back and trudged slowly back into the house.

Aki cursed under his breath and stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray. Never a boring moment with that guy.

I've still got trouble sleeping. It might just be because of the summer heat, though.

Aki groaned audibly as he shut off the alarm clock next to his bed and got up.

It felt like he had just managed to close his eyes five minutes ago—why was it already 7:30?

Luckily, he was an early bird and managed to wake himself up well enough with a splash of cold water and a cup of coffee. He grabbed the newspaper from the door and headed to the balcony, wanting to bask in the sun a bit.

But an unfamiliar sight made him freeze—he nearly dropped his coffee. "What the hell are you doing?!"

Angel yawned like he was trying to dislocate his jaw, then sluggishly made his way to the bathroom and shut the door behind him.

A huffing sound behind Aki made him turn around—to see a shocked expression that perfectly mirrored his own.

"Did you just see that?"

Denji nodded, still wide-eyed despite his sleepiness. "I don't think I've ever seen the Angel Devil out of bed before 9:00 a.m. And he never wakes up by himself."

Aki shuddered internally, thinking of what had happened to the last alarm clock in Angel's possession that had dared try to wake him. Then again, weirder things than this happened to Aki on a regular basis. "I'm going to make breakfast."

"Sweet!"

All in all, I think I can overcome this hurdle and adjust to my new roommates' quirks.

While he was carefully rinsing the rice in the sink, Angel finally emerged from the bathroom—more or less dressed in a white T-shirt and his usual pants. "You can get yourself a plate if you want breakfa—"

"No, it's okay. I'm eating later."

Aki stared at the back of Angel's head, then turned to Denji, who was goggling back at him, jaw nearly on the floor.

Something was going on—something that couldn't be explained by any normal means of reality.

Angel lazily tied his shoe, grabbed a jacket, and headed for the door.

"Wait! You shouldn't go out without a member of Public Safety accompanying you!" Aki set the rice down and followed him to the door.

Angel didn't even spare him a glance before cracking it open and slipping outside. "It's okay. Himeno is coming with me."

The door closed behind him—and Aki felt like he'd just been hit by a train.

"What was that?" Power had now also woken up, leaning on the doorframe of her and Denji's room.

"Fuck," Denji breathed. "I think the Angel Devil just scored himself a date."

Chapter Text

Hold on tight, slide a little closer
Up so high stars are on our shoulders
Time flies by don't close your eyes
Kiss by kiss love is like a thrill ride
What goes up might take us upside down
Life ain't a merry go round

-Roller Coaster by Bon Jovi, 2016

Angel was a being with an unusual amount of generosity toward the human species.

"Let me get this straight."

But he was still a Devil, and quite ready to kill every human in sight.

"You got me out of bed at the crack of dawn. Then you made me march through half the city—and now you expect me to get on this thing?"

Himeno offered Angel an apologetic shrug. "Not a big fan of heights?"

It was lucky for the Devil Hunter that only skin contact with Angel was lethal—not the look he was giving her. The human was either too mentally unstable or too brave to care, though.

"Listen, with an opponent like Makima, everything and everyone could be listening in on us. But when we're riding on this ol' thing, not even insects can understand what we're saying." She rapped one metal pillar with her knuckles, producing a worryingly hollow-sounding echo.

"Nope. I'm not going. You can have your cult meeting without me." Angel turned around and stalked off, through a herd of screaming children, to where he dearly hoped the exit lay.

The female Devil Hunter had no problem catching up with him—even though she was wearing something close to a torture device on her feet. "Come on, we're not a cult! We're a resistance. Doesn't that sound much cooler?"

As if something as trivial as names mattered to Angel. When A.M.E.N. had reached out to him again a few weeks ago, he was truly on the fence about affiliating with them. There were multiple arguments in favor of joining the organization—the biggest of which was Angel's loathing of Makima. She was, after all, the woman who had made him kill everything he'd loved—and then made him forget about it.

But Angel hated a lot of things: orders, work, licorice—even the sun, because it kept trying to burn his skin off. Was Angel trying to destroy the sun? Nope, because that would be too much work—and just as impossible as killing Makima.

The smell of caramelized sugar hit the Devil, and he quickly turned his head in the direction of the scent. Himeno pulled her wallet from her back pocket and waved it in Angel's face.

"If you come with us, I'll buy you some caramelized apples."

The talk with Aki was what made him reconsider. Not because his revenge-is-totally-not-a-waste-of-time speech had any real impact, but because the human had, once again, pissed Angel off.

Oh look, you've got some pretty wings, how about you use them for the gain of the company I've dedicated my entire sorry excuse of a life to? Especially my boss who I'm producing an alarming number of reproductive hormones towards?

Angel just wanted to see the look on this fucker's face when he realized Makima was just as much a Devil as Angel—and how much of a danger she'd been. If he ever realized that, that is.

Either way, Angel had decided he didn't want to work a single day longer. The only way he could be set free and retire was by killing Makima and escaping from Public Safety. Just as simple as that.

"Fine then," Angel said, turning around quickly and nearly tipping over a stall that was selling keychains shaped like one of his wings. "Throw in some cotton candy, and we'll talk."

They stalked back to the contraption Himeno had been talking about, which wasn't made any easier by the mass of people Angel had to avoid—like he was in a moving obstacle course.

Angel was one of the very few beings who had ever been to Hell—he couldn't imagine it being much worse than this. An "amusement park," as humans called it (the only amusing thing about it being the increased injury rate, in Angel's opinion), contained things like poorly disguised killing machines, massive crowds, and the occasional sweet that could just as easily be bought at the store down the street.

But nothing could compare to the object Himeno was steering him toward.

"How sick does a species have to be to invent something like this?"

"This, my dear Devil friend..." She placed both hands on her hips and looked at the machinery like it was her newborn child. "...is Hell's Thunder Cyclone—the longest and most extreme roller coaster in all of Tokyo. It consists of over 50,000 tons of metal!"

"Oh, the joy."

Himeno either didn't understand sarcasm, or she simply didn't care about Angel's apathy. She just kept rambling until Angel felt like he'd have to stop her for the sake of his own sanity.

"I see the scarred Devil Hunter guy in the line up front."

"You're right!" she exclaimed, darting forward and skipping a considerable number of humans who had the guts to visit this elevated death trap.

Following her, Angel pointedly ignored Kishibe's greeting nod. "When normal humans make a list of meeting places, they probably go with stuff like restaurants, parks, or private rooms, you know."

"We're not normal humans, though. And we needed an alibi—to meet up without drawing suspicion or being overheard."

Still not entirely convinced, Angel let out a deep sigh. "The fact that Makima hasn't found out about you guys is a miracle."

"This is the best we've got, Devil—the ride takes two minutes and ten seconds, so you can spare your idle chattering till later."

The ragged Devil Hunter placed one of his big palms on the shoulder of the white-haired woman next to him. "This is Quanxi, and I'm Kishibe. I'm not sure we've formally introduced ourselves."

"You're the Hybrid with four girlfriends." The four of them had now reached the end of the line. A bored-looking man gestured for them to take a seat in four metal chairs attached to a cart on the railway.

"Yup. Long and Cosmo get a little antsy when there are too many people around, so I left them at a hotel."

Angel nodded and tried to suppress a yawn. He was far too tired for this crap.

Himeno bumped her elbow into his side. "I'm so glad you're finally joining us!"

"I'm not. I'm only hearing you guys out."

Angel still wasn't comfortable with the situation. He understood that Makima was far too powerful for anyone to kill—even if he was a literal killing machine. He also didn't fully trust A.M.E.N.—least of all because the group consisted of three nut-jobs who were more likely than not suicidal.

Sadly, his options seemed quite limited at the moment.

As the queue inched closer and closer to the rollercoaster, Angel began to regret his decision.

He now found himself strapped into a metal chair, which was in turn anchored to a long rail of steel. Next to him sat Himeno, swinging her feet excitedly. In front of him was the Devil Hunter Kishibe, taking a swig from a metal flask. Quanxi appeared to be the least frightened of them all—so relaxed, in fact, that she pulled out her phone and made a call in a foreign language, completely ignoring the horrified worker checking her safety belt.

"I have a question for you," Kishibe said, wiping his mouth and slipping the flask back into his pocket. At that moment, the rollercoaster lurched into motion. "Have you made a contract with the Future Devil?"

Angel had heard the name not too long ago—Aki had mentioned that making a contract with the Future Devil was the leading cause of depression in Public Safety. To Angel, he had sounded more like a fun Pinochle buddy than a cause for existential dread.

"No. I've never met the guy in person."

Kishibe narrowed his eyes as the rollercoaster picked up speed, the sparse hair on his head flailing wildly in the wind.

"Either you're lying, or you just don't remember. Doesn't really matter though. That Devil showed up about twenty years ago—same time you did, actually. I never paid him much attention until he appeared in one of my dreams. Showed me some weird kind of puppet show, then claimed you were a friend of his."

Himeno was patting down her back pocket, trying to reach inside despite the restrictive rollercoaster gear. Quanxi just stared blankly at the scenery whipping past at an alarming speed, her phone still pressed to her ear.

"In short: she dies." Kishibe pointed at Himeno. "You die. Power dies. Aki dies. Quanxi's girlfriends die." He leaned back in his seat slightly as the coaster jerked to an abrupt halt at the peak of the track. "Pretty much all of us die in the future."

The rails screeched, and the cart dropped suddenly. Somewhere behind them, people screamed in terror—but the four of them simply stared at each other in silence.

"That's not very pleasant."

Truly, Angel found the thought of all those people being killed rather unsettling—though he wasn't entirely sure how to translate that feeling into human terms. So, he just shrugged.

"Ever the nihilist," Himeno muttered, still struggling to reach her pocket as she bounced around in her seat like a pinball. "Most importantly, we do manage to kill Makima."

Angel's eyes started to sting from the wind, his hair whipping across his face. This meeting place had really been a bad idea. "So it's possible?"

"Yeah. And we'd all be fine with the outcome—if we actually knew how we managed it. See, the Future Devil wasn't very specific about that part."

"You want me to join you guys. Is that it?"

Kishibe nodded, squiting his eyes in the harsh wind flying past his head. "You're very useful to us, you see. Mostly because you're a Devil and, conventionally, not trying to kill us. Your ability is very powerful, too."

There it was.

The only reason Angel was still alive, as far as humans were concerned, was his ability. Funny how they called it an ability now—Back at the beach, everyone had called it a curse.

The humans at the beach were dead now.

The meat sacks trying to use him? Happily alive.

"And what do I get in return?" Angel had learned that crossing his arms made him look more threatening to humans—even though he didn't quite understand the logic behind it.

Kishibe frowned slightly. "Getting Makima out of the picture isn't enough for you? We read those files in her office too, you know. She talked about an 'assessment of power' and made you kill those people you lived with. That couldn't have been pleasant."

The memory of a hand crept over Angel's palm—warm, but rapidly growing cold. Her eyes had looked different, like there was nothing left of her... like Angel had taken everything.

"Not very pleasant, no."

Staring at the gap between his fingers, he slowly closed his hand into a fist. "But killing Makima isn't going to benefit me in any way. I don't do revenge."

That seemed to be the strangest thing he'd said all morning, as everyone around him went quiet and stared.

"What do you want, then—if not revenge?"

It was a strange question, but not completely foreign. A very similar one had been asked a few months ago. Back then, he had just answered with ice cream—because asking for more had felt like too much of a drag. Now he knew that what he said could actually matter. That humans could stand by their word. "I want freedom."

"We ca help you with that. If you don't go around killing humans, that is," Kishibe added. The man still managed to scare Angel from time to time. "You've got quite a killing record, you know."

"Right, right." Angel sighed, feeling mildly inconvenienced. "No killing humans... unless they ask for it."

Kishibe opened his mouth to object, but Himeno was quicker. "That doesn't seem that unreasonable. With Makima out of the way, the Devil Hunter Association is going to become a far more hostile place for your kind."

That thought had already crossed Angel's mind.

Makima had been the biggest advocate for human-Devil cooperation. She let Angel and Power live with Aki, and she gave Denji a job. Angel wasn't sure what would happen if she was gone—but it couldn't be good. "Not just for me. I want Denji and Power to get the choice too."

Quanxi seemed to take interest in the conversation for the first time since getting on the roller coaster. She lowered her phone and squinted at him.

"Denji? You mean the Chainsaw Devil? Do you know how much the Chinese government wants that kid dead? Do you know how much power he holds?"

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Angel had registered that there was something inside that teenager—something far stronger than himself. Sometimes he'd get goosebumps when Denji entered a room, a stale taste under his tongue that told him to run. Then he'd remember Denji once admitted to selling one of his testicles, and somehow... that balanced things out.

"I'm not saying we should be protected from every threat in the world—there are a lot of them. What I want is a chance to walk away. To quit without being killed for it. I've survived for years without Public Safety, so we'd only need to be relocated to a safer environment."

Shaking her head, Himeno leaned back in her seat, the wind whipping around her short hair.

"Do you really think they'd leave? I haven't spent much time with that Denji kid, but he seems head over heels for Makima." Just like Aki. And pretty much everyone else in Public Safety.

"But—"

"I know what you're thinking. That there'll be some 'spell to break' once Makima is gone. That it'll be like what happened to you when you remembered your past. I can imagine Power walking away from Makima willingly. But Denji? With or without the Control Devil's abilities, Denji loves her. He thinks he owes her his life. She gave him... meaning."

Himeno looked down at her boots, a crease between her brows. "Some people don't want to be saved."

An awkward silence settled over the roller coaster—if you ignored the creaking of the rails and the faint screaming in the background.

"Well," Kishibe muttered, sounding a little bored as he glanced at his watch and then back at Angel. "We can plan out the details later. For now, I just want to know—are you with us or not?"

This was going to be a huge pain in the ass.

"I'm in."

"Yay!" Himeno clapped her hands together in celebration—she was the only one, and the effect was probably not as strong as she'd intended.

Angel shook a few stray strands of hair from his face. "What exactly can Makima do with her ability?"

"Jesus, there's a list. First, she can control anyone she deems lower than herself—or anyone she's beaten in a fight. She has an extraordinary sense of smell. But the worst part is, she made a deal with the Prime Minister of Japan: any misfortune that happens to her is transferred to a random citizen."

"What if we k—"

"No, Quanxi, we are not killing every Japanese person. That's bloody genocide!"

"Only suggesting."

Angel's opinion of Quanxi rose slightly, even if that plan really was a bit unrealistic. "We literally can't kill her, then. I got out of bed early just to waste my time."

Himeno winked at him from her seat across the cart. "We would never dream of wasting your time, darling."

The nickname still sat wrong with Angel—it made him feel hot and cold all over, as if it were some kind of personal insult.

"There are always loopholes with Devil contracts." Kishibe shot Angel a dark look, as though the whole situation were his fault.

"The keyword with Makima is misfortune. A very broad term, sure—usually works in her favor. But if we can kill her and make it look like we're doing her a favor... we might be able to pull it off."

Angel avoided the Devil Hunter's eyes, remembering the number 79 printed on his file under the category "Kill Count." He couldn't recall all of them—his memory was hazy even without Makima messing with it.

The ones he did remember were either kills forced by the Control Devil... or 'mercy,' as he'd justified it to himself. There had been a lot of humans in pain, and Angel wasn't a monster. He could take that suffering—carry it—freeing those humans from the cruelty of existence.

Aki would probably never look at him the same if he knew how many Angel had killed.

Not that it mattered, of course. After Makima was dead, there'd be no reason for Angel and him to keep working together. "So what are y'all going to do?"

The roller coaster came to a slow stop at the station. Somewhere nearby, Angel could hear someone crying.

Kishibe stood up, having already dislocated his seatbelt before the crew could attempt it. "We're going to set her on fire. Anyone up for round two?"

-

The air was starting to heat up as the sun climbed higher in the sky. Even outside the amusement park, a large mass of people made the temperature rise further—like they were miniature ovens, radiating warmth in thick, oppressive waves. Angel had to stop once and sprinkle some fountain water on his face, afraid he might die of heat exhaustion.

He blinked a few water droplets from his lashes before catching up to Himeno, who had been uncharacteristically quiet since leaving the roller coaster.

"Himeno, I'm a Devil and all, but... are you sure it's worth it?"

"Well, the Future Devil said I was due a while ago. I want to protect people. My life's pretty much worthless once I stop fighting, but other people can still change; they can make something of themselves." Himeno pursed her lips and let out a lighthearted whistle.

Hearing that made Angel feel like something was stuck in his throat. Did every Devil Hunter think like that about themselves? It sounded eerily similar to how he was treated by them. You'll be eliminated if you don't do that. You'll be killed if you aren't useful. You're a weapon—go act like it.

"You know a lot about roller coasters. That's... neat." Angel didn't think he'd make a good therapist, but he figured he could try anyway. "All humans are worthless. Not just you."

Himeno started laughing again, holding the door to the apartment staircase open for him. "Shut up and let me play the hero, Devil."

These Devil Hunters should seriously consider seeing a therapist with the way they all acted. Angel noted the stale taste in his mouth and sighed deeply. "I fucking hate humans."

"Aww. You don't even know me all that well."

That was true. Himeno had been over at Aki's a few times, trying to get Angel to join a meeting of A.M.E.N., and of course, there had been the meeting itself. But somehow, the tall woman was the kindest anyone at Public Safety had ever been to him.

Her warmth and carefree attitude reminded him of his days at the beach, back when Angel's ability was nothing but an inconvenience. "I guess you just remind me of someone I used to know."

"Oh, you flatter me!" As soon as he stepped into the staircase, the temperature around Angel dropped mercifully, sending a shiver of relief down his spine.

She chuckled and let her purse bump against his chest. "A shame I'm not allowed to touch."

Angel tensed slightly. "Please don't tell me you're one of those humans with a death kink, because I swear to God, if I have to make another report to HR—"

"Chill out." Himeno burst into giggles, her laughter echoing up the stairwell and filling the entire space. "I know you're off the menu—if you know what I mean."

Angel started up the steps behind her, unsure whether he should be offended or not. "No, seriously, why am I not on the menu?"

Himeno acted like she didn't hear him, whistling another tune as they continued their ascent, eventually reaching the right floor. "There we go."

Nodding to her, Angel reached for the doorknob to Aki's apartment but was stopped by a hand resting gently on his right wing.

"Promise me one thing, Devil?" Himeno leaned her head between Angel's wings, her voice low as she got closer to his ear.

"What?" Angel tried hard not to move, afraid of brushing his skin against hers. He seriously needed to start acting more like a threat to humans—the way they all treated him like he was harmless was starting to get to him.

"You wanted to protect Denji and Power back in the meeting? I want to save someone else too."

That rubbed Angel the wrong way. Aki wasn't in danger—he chose this job! He could quit whenever he wanted, he could walk away and live a good life. Just because he was too thickheaded to see that didn't mean Angel had to help him.

"Aki doesn't need saving."

"We both know that's a lie. Sometimes the prisons we find ourselves in aren't made by other people. Aki hasn't really been living for the last ten years—he's trapped by his revenge, and not just because of Makima."

Things always had to get complicated when humans got involved, didn't they? "So what am I supposed to do about that?"

"Make sure Aki doesn't waste his life. He's been doing it for the last decade, and I'd hate for him to die without achieving anything."

Angel clenched his teeth, frustrated. Of course he'd thought about what Kishibe had said—about that dipshit dying—and of course he'd rather Aki survived. Honestly, the guy worked even while taking a bath. He'd definitely regret it when he took his final breath surrounded by office documents.

But what the hell was Angel supposed to do about it?

Hey, I know you've spent the last decade of your life on this job, but maybe just... don't?

Yeah, fat chance.

"What makes you think he'd listen to me?"

Even though Angel couldn't see her face, he heard the smirk in Himeno's voice. His ability to read humans really had gotten better.

"Just a gut feeling."

"I can't promise you anything, human. But I can try, at least."

Angel moved toward the door again, but Himeno grabbed his shoulder and spun him around. "That's more than enough for me."

She bent down and gave him a quick peck on the forehead before turning away and heading down the staircase as if nothing had happened.

Angel stood there, mouth slightly open, one hand hovering over the skin on his skull.

With a sudden bang, the apartment door flew open, revealing Power's foot—and then the rest of her as she stormed out, with Denji following close behind.

"YOU GUYS SMOOCHED!" Denji shouted, punching Angel on the back.

Angel choked immediately, coughing as saliva went down the wrong pipe.

Power was caught between laughing and trying to imitate the sounds of someone vomiting. Somewhere in the distance, even a neighbor joined in—banging on the ceiling with a broom.

Denji pulled Angel back into the apartment by the t-shirt, a look of dawning realization spreading across his face. "Does this mean... you were the first one to lose your virginity out of all of us? H-Have I lost?!"

"That's not how virginity works!" Angel shook his wings feverishly to get Denji's hand off him. "Haven't you read enough pornographic magazines to know that, at least?"

Angel remembered the time he had accidentally run into one of Denji's booklets. He hadn't been able to hold eye contact with any human for the next three days without cringing.

"I'm sure Himeno would smooch me too if I wanted to." Power slammed the door shut behind them with another pang, making the dishes in the kitchen rattle.

"No fair!" Denji wailed, now rounding on Power. "You girls kiss all the time anyway!"

Angel inched back toward his room, already feeling the exhaustion wash over the lingering jolt of electricity in his bloodstream that came whenever someone touched him. "Maybe you read too many pornographic magazines, Denji."

"I'll have you know that—" Denji abruptly shut his mouth as he glanced over to a spot just behind Angel's shoulder.

Turning around, Angel saw Aki standing in the hallway, a mug of coffee in his hand and his hair unusually untidy.

"What happened to you? You look like shit," Power said bluntly.

She kind of had a point—Aki looked a bit like he had after the Grime Devil fight, just a lot less slimy.

Under their stares, Aki straightened his back and glowered at her. "I do not. You don't even own a hairbrush."

Angel didn't brush his hair either, but his hair looked great anyway—one of the little perks of being a Devil, he supposed.

"I know what your problem is," Denji whispered, cupping a hand to the side of his mouth and leaning toward Angel. "I think he's jealous, mate."

For some mysterious reason—or maybe because of some leftover saliva—Angel's breath hitched in his throat, and something weird twisted around inside his gut.

"I could hear that!" Aki shouted, rounding on Denji with his mug raised threateningly over the teenager's head. "And I'm not."

Power cackled and banged a hand against the door in glee. Denji grinned, clearly encouraged. "I mean, I get it. Himeno's some real hot stuff."

Aki froze for a moment. Then he shook his head and emptied his coffee over Denji's blond hair.

"You're an idiot," he said, regaining his composure as he shoved the empty mug into Power's arms. "You two clean that or I'm not cooking."

Inspired by his example, Angel made a move for his room (more specifically, the futon in the corner), but Denji flicked a bit of coffee in his direction to stop him.

"You should talk to him!"

Angel raised an eyebrow at the puny human. "And since when do you have any smart advice to offer?"

Shrugging, Denji licked some coffee off his arm and pulled a face. "I've seen more movies than you, man. And I can tell you—if a girl's involved, things can get bloody real soon."

"I didn't know you knew about periods," Power said, looking genuinely surprised.

"A what now?"

Angel left the two of them to their nonsense and continued toward his room.

What did any of that mean?

Himeno had said herself that she didn't consider Angel a suitable mate, and by god, Angel would rather go swimming with a toaster than partake in any romantic relationship with her—or with any human, really.

He'd tried it once before, and that was enough; it still made him ache in places he hadn't even known had pain receptors.

Well, he could think about that later—after he'd slept. Which, judging by the weight on his limbs, would be in just a few moments.

The Devil stretched, then nestled down onto his pillow and closed his eyes with a yawn. But just before he could fully drift off, a sharp knock made him sit up groggily.

Carrying a new cup, Aki stepped into the room and quickly closed the door behind him—clearly making sure Power and Denji didn't see.

He set the mug, full of hot chocolate (with double the cacao powder like usual, Angel hoped), down on the floor next to Angel's futon, then stood in the far corner of the room, his back leaning against the wall.

"What do you want?" Angel took the cup with a bit of apprehension before gulping down a sip. He didn't really believe what Denji had said about things getting bloody, but he could never be sure when humans were involved.

"I want to talk to you about Himeno."

Well, shoot. Denji might've been right after all. Trying not to make a wrong move, Angel took another sip, waiting for Aki to continue.

"You see, I've known her for quite some time, and she's always been very... active in pursuing romantic relationships."

Angel now had lost even the slightest idea of where this conversation was going. Maybe he should start watching more human movies after all.

"And I mean, if you two are happy, that's fine by me. I just want you to be careful with her. Especially given your..." He gestured toward Angel, looking a little helpless. "...situation. She might expect some things you're not quite willing to—"

Finally, Angel caught on—and he wasn't sure whether to feel relieved or utterly embarrassed. "Are you trying to give me the talk?! I'm a Devil, not a child!"

Aki's face darkened to a very red shade, and he didn't meet Angel's eyes, opting instead to stare at the ceiling. "I just don't want you to be taken advantage of. I know how pushy Himeno can be. And I know she means well, but if you're not comfortable—"

"Stop!" Nearly spilling his drink, Angel stood too, not wanting to crane his neck more than necessary to talk to Aki. "I have not—and never will be—interested in Himeno."

Aki's gaze snapped back down, and finally, Angel could hold it. He noted, with a bit of glee, that Aki's features were still flushed with blood. "Oh. I just thought... because Denji and Power said—"

"She didn't kiss me." Not really, anyway. "You know those two are always over the top, right?"

Aki let out a long breath and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "One of you three is going to be the death of me one day, I swear."

"You should've filed for a change of workplace when you had the chance, Hayakawa." For the first time in his life—well, the first time since the rural village—Angel felt like laughing. This whole situation was absurd, but at least it had made Aki suffer a bit. "Now you're stuck with us, I guess."

Aki mumbled something about "worse fates" but seemed considerably more cheerful himself.

"Just so we're clear," Angel added, hoping to take advantage of the good mood. "You weren't jealous of me and Himeno, were you? As in—you two have a thing for each other? Because liking your boss is unprofessional enough, human. You don't also need to fall for your coworker."

Aki's mouth set into a line so thin it was barely visible—but at least he didn't draw any blood, which was a plus. "I'm not in love with Himeno, and I—"

The words seemed to get stuck in Aki's throat to a rather concerning degree, as if he were actually choking on them. But after what sounded like a suppressed coughing fit, he managed to squeeze out something that sounded vaguely like: Idontlovemakimaeither.

"What was that?" Angel stepped a little closer, cupping a hand around his ear.

"I don't love Makima either!" Pressing both palms over his mouth, Aki looked just as surprised as Angel.

They stared at each other, wide-eyed.

Moving back a little, Angel concentrated hard on wiping a bit of grease off his T-shirt. "Well... uhm. I didn't expect that. At least you do have work ethics."

"Yeah," Aki's voice now sounded both resigned and relieved. "What would I do without them."

Chapter Text

When Aki had been a child, winter had always been his favorite season.

The glistening of snow, the bite of ice on his skin, sitting at the window next to the kitchen table with a steaming cup of hot chocolate nestled in his hands.

His favorite thing had been how his breath condensed in the crisp air every morning, making his brother giggle and call him a smoker.

Now, Aki hated winter even more than he disliked summer. So really, he should've been glad it was mid-August. He wasn't.

The Devil Hunter groaned as he turned his pillow over and moved to lie on his stomach. The snoring from Denji's room didn't make him any happier either—how could anyone sleep under these conditions? After another ten minutes, he unraveled himself from his futon and went to get a cold glass of water.

It wasn't only the ridiculous heatwave that made it hard for Aki to fall asleep. He also spent a majority of his time in bed fretting.

Normally, Aki was a rational person. He liked making lists of things he wasn't sure about, liked planning out each detail of what he wanted to say to someone before actually saying it. But when Angel was involved, Aki's brain had the annoying habit of short-circuiting.

The realization had hit him like a brick a few weeks ago, when Angel returned from his non-date with Himeno.

Aki Hayakawa wasn't in love with Makima. He wasn't sure why—or even if he had been in love with her in the first place—but something in his brain had just changed direction. He remembered how pathetic Denji looked while talking about her, and the time she whispered in his ear, making him blush from head to toe.

That relationship wasn't professional, and it made Aki furious. At first, he thought that was because of jealousy, but later he realized he was angry at Makima. Was she so blatantly willing to use a teenager and control him with her sex appeal? Did she not notice the effect she was having on Denji?

One way or another, Aki had freed himself from that longing that had nested in the back of his mind. He would still do anything for Makima, of course, but he would not waste his love on her.

But that opened a whole new can of worms - the feeling that his relationship with Angel was starting to grow into something dangerous instead. If the Devil was able to subconsciously lower his opinion on Makima, what else was he influencing? And how was he even doing it - without ever showing as much as a smile. As far as Aki was aware, the Devil might still be waiting for a chance to kill him in his sleep!

He leaned his sweaty forehead on the cold metal of the sink and sighed while fumbling for a clean glass. A sudden sound from behind him made him jump upright. "What the hell are you doing?"

Aki could barely make out the Angel Devil's features in the blue light slipping through the closed windows, but he did notice him shuffling his feathers indignantly. "I couldn't sleep."

"Tough luck." He went back to filling his glass, trying hard to ignore the glimpse of Angel's collarbone visible through his nightgown. Sure, the temperature was hot, but Angel should really cover himself up more.

The Devil breathed audibly through his nose and moved to the nearest window, lifting the metal blinds to look outside. "You know that swimming is one of the best things you can do when you can't sleep because of the heat?"

Aki leaned his back against the counter as he slowly let the water run down his throat. Angel hardly ever spoke of his own accord, and watching him was like seeing a rare bird poke its head out of its nest.

"I always used to do that back... It was nice."

"You can always ask Himeno to go for a swim." Though they were clearly past the whole incident, Aki, Power, and Denji had taken it upon themselves to tease Angel about it until the day he died (which, in Public Safety, could be anywhere from two months to two years).

Angel gave Aki an annoyed stare. "Can you cut it out already?"

"No, I'm serious! You can call her and see for yourself." Aki gestured toward the cell phone in the corner of the room.

In the weeks since their first non-date, Himeno and Angel had often gotten together in their free time, Angel always looking more exhausted than usual upon his return. After a lot of nagging from Power, Angel had finally admitted that they usually went to an amusement park to buy sweets and ride her favorite roller coaster.

Even though it should have upset Aki that his best friend had gotten along with Angel so much faster than he had—after all the trouble Aki himself had gone through—he couldn't help but feel happy for them. If Angel needed one thing, it was human connection and friendship, and he was glad Himeno was able to provide him with that.

Angel got up and walked over to Aki, letting his fingers hover just above the side of Aki's neck. Aki gulped and forced himself to look back at Angel's face.

"You seem like you'd need fresh water more than her. Your skin is hot."

It took all of Aki's willpower not to reach out and touch Angel's hand, so he simply let his head lull to the other side. He was a weak man. The words left his mouth before he had even fully decided to speak them. "Let's go swimming, then."

And so they did.

Aki didn't even bother waking Denji or Power; the two of them slept like literal stones, and tearing them from their slumber only meant potential injuries. He quietly stepped into his room, pulling a white shirt over his head and dark blue pants over his legs. He didn't plan on swimming himself, but he packed extra shorts just to be safe.

The Angel Devil was waiting in front of his room, bouncing a little on the soles of his feet. Aki immediately noticed the oversized T-shirt he was wearing—the white, worn-out letters of the band's name standing in stark contrast to the black fabric. "I didn't know you liked The Blue Hearts."

Angel followed his gaze to his chest and brushed his palm over the name of the band. "Himeno gave me this. I never listen to human music."

Aki felt something twist in his stomach—a strange feeling he couldn't quite put into words.

"Human music? Are you implying that devils have their own genre?" He grabbed a bundle of keys and unlocked the apartment door, instantly hit by a stairwell breeze that made his hot skin ache with relief.

"Nope. We—well, I—just don't understand the concept. It's just a few sequences of sounds accompanied by awful human wailing."

They stepped down the stairs, Aki trying hard not to trip in the darkness. "You seem to like food well enough, even though that's just a few calories going through your digestive tract."

"Do not insult food by comparing it to your measly human culture."

Aki shook his head indignantly, then an idea came to him. "Let's take the car."

Not many people knew Aki owned a car. The only reason for that was his close observation of what had happened to Kobeni over the course of her work. The young woman had become a human Uber driver, forced to chauffeur her colleagues around the city—to nieces' dance recitals, family events, even grocery runs.

People working in Public Safety rarely owned cars, since expensive vehicles were notorious for being crushed by devils almost immediately—and insurance hardly ever covered it.

So Aki kept his Toyota Corolla a quiet secret at work, though he did spend an embarrassing amount of time cleaning it.

He tried to suppress his pride as he opened the small door to his garage and let Angel see the beautifully maintained car. The Devil didn't even glance at it before lazily sliding the door open and dropping into the passenger seat.

Before Aki could open his mouth to comment, a loud bang nearly made him drop his keys. The garage door had been thrown open, and an accusing finger was shoved into his face.

"You tried to bail on us!"

Aki tried to push Denji's hand away while also stopping Power from wiggling past the two of them toward his car. "What the hell do you mean?"

"See?" Power wailed, finally managing to press her hands flat against Aki's windshield, making him wince. "The puny mortals tried to go on vacation without us!"

"Not fair!" Denji shoved Aki to the side and clung to the car's hood. Aki could already see the grease stains in his mind.

The two of them started a chant that sounded vaguely like "We want vacation!" but Power kept trying to change the words, making the whole thing incomprehensible. Aki was painfully reminded that he had plenty of neighbors—and already enough passive-aggressive complaint letters in his mailbox to rival the paperwork on his desk. "Shut up! You can come, but don't touch anything!"

So now the four of them were going on a midnight trip.

The streets of Tokyo bustled with life even at night. Every dark corner of the city was lit by neon signs, accompanied by the thump of nightclub music and the roar of cars speeding over the concrete.

Normally, Aki would be grumpy at the prospect of driving a horde of brainless dipshits around instead of getting some well-deserved sleep. But Denji and Power had somehow fallen asleep instantly, clearly unused to staying up so late. Angel sat by the open window, chin resting on his hand, the warm breeze swishing through his hair. Somehow, Aki didn't mind so much.

He tried to keep his eyes on the road, but felt himself getting distracted.

"What do you want?"

Angel's voice caught him off guard. "What?!"

"This is some form of contract, right? You take me swimming, and I owe you a favor." Angel's eyes locked onto his, scrutinizing him in that unsettling way of his.

Aki hadn't actually thought about asking for anything in return, but now that the idea was there... "Yeah, it is."

If Aki had known how to read the devil's expressions better, he might have realized he was wrong—but in that moment, Angel almost seemed relieved. "What do you want?"

"You're going to listen to three songs with me and give them an honest shot. None of that 'I'm a Devil, I don't listen to music' crap."

This, Aki decided, was the ultimate test.

Meeting Power and Denji had taught him many things: that he should hide his kitchen knives more carefully, how to clean a soda stain off the ceiling, and what it felt like to cook for more than just himself. But the most important lesson had been realizing that Devils were capable of human-like emotions.

Angel was nothing like a human—he moved differently, acted differently, and certainly didn't seem like someone who felt more than basic anger or fear. But there had been that one time—when Angel had cried. Weak, vulnerable, human. And it made Aki curious if maybe he had been wrong about his patrol partner.

Music was a small thing that connected people. It wouldn't start a war, and it certainly couldn't end one, but it was something every human shared. If Angel could feel even a fraction of what music could do to the mind—if his brain could process that rush of chemicals—then maybe...

Well, Aki wasn't sure what that would mean exactly, but in that warm night air, nothing felt more important.

Angel nodded silently, and Aki reached for the old radio Himeno had given him for his birthday a few years ago. What kind of music would a devil like Angel enjoy?

His eyes fell on the "Blue Hearts" logo on Angel's shirt, and he bit his lip before making his choice. Himeno would've congratulated him—punk rock had always been her favorite.

I love nice songs so much I feel like I'm going insane
Yeah, I wish you'd listen to them too

Aki and Angel flinched simultaneously, as the words were blasted through the car at full volume. He quickly moved to turn the music down, while Denji stirred in the backseat, mumbling something about squeezing lemons.

I'm gonna keep living with the sweat rolling down my brow
Yeah, I'm never gonna change whenever I'm singing

"The song is called 'Hito ni Yasashiku' by The Blue Hearts."

Trying not to act too intrigued, Aki glanced over at Angel and examined his facial expression closely. Nothing had changed in them, but he could see the Devil wasn't looking outside the window anymore, staring at the radio instead.

But let me tell you something, I'm gonna shout it out loud

"What do you think?" The song was close to hitting it's refrain, Aki could feel the vibrations of the music filling the entire car. He hit the brakes of the car, as they had reached a red light.

Angel finally broke his trance and leaned back to his window. "It's kind of loud."

Shout out, "Keep trying!"
Can you hear me? Keep trying!

Aki tried to suppress a grimace, feeling a strong competitiveness well up in him. "Oh, you're going to be the new Sakamoto by the end of this night."

"Yeah? Keep trying then." If Aki hadn't known better, he could've sworn he saw something akin to genuine amusement in the Devil's face.

-

The four of them were headed to Ueno Park. Aki had been there a few times with Himeno and other colleagues, and it would have been a nice place to go swimming—if it weren't for the crowds of tourists clogging every corner.

Aki held a deep grudge against Tokyo at times like this. He and his family had lived in the countryside, with the nearest occupied house a five-minute walk away. Things had been quiet, and his parents could let him and his brother roam around the neighborhood without having to watch them constantly.

In Tokyo, if a kid was alone in the streets, they wouldn't last five minutes before being taken in by the police—or a kidnapper.

Glancing in the rearview mirror, Aki eyed Power and Denji, both snoring loudly, a bit of spit drooling from Denji's mouth onto his leather car seat. No matter how much they acted like brats, at least nobody would try to kidnap them—or if they did, they'd probably give them back immediately, maybe even paying money to get rid of them.

"Why do you wear your hair like this?"

Aki was pulled out of his thoughts. He cleared his throat and fixed his eyes back on the road. He really shouldn't be driving when he was already half-asleep. "I just like it that way. It keeps the hair out of my face."

The redheaded devil hummed and twirled a lock of his own messy hair between his fingers.

Aki's mother would probably have thrown a fit if she'd seen any grown man with hair that long. That was one of the downsides of living in the countryside—but as a child, Aki hadn't minded.

She would make him sit in a kitchen chair on the porch, hand him a glass of lemonade, and then cut his hair. "A good trim needs a good ambiance," she always said, before putting on a record from some pop star.

A sudden idea struck Aki, and he maneuvered the car neatly into a parking space just before Shinobazu Pond came into view. Angel moved to get out, but Aki stopped him with a light rap of his knuckles against the radio.

"You know our deal."

The devil sat back down with a slight sigh, though he didn't seem entirely unwilling. Aki quickly rummaged through his things, found a CD, and swapped it into the player.

To you

Yes, my love, to you

Angel raised his eyebrows, and Aki tried hard not to blush. Jesus—it wasn't as if he was trying to seduce the Devil.

"You said you wanted a quieter song. This one was my mother's favorite."

The lights around them seemed dimmer with the headlights off, most of the city now behind them. Aki still couldn't make out Angel's features, but the stiffness from the last song had been replaced by a more contemplative posture.

Winter comes again and your heart has gone away

If I look back, I see that I could always feel you by my side

Angel's breathing was quiet against the music, but Aki still heard it more clearly than the singer's voice.

Stay with me

Knocking on midnight's door

What would his mother think if she saw him now? Aki had never really considered it before. He'd always assumed that going after the Gun Devil was what she would have wanted. Would she be horrified to find him sitting in a car with two and a half Devils, trying to share her favorite song with one of them?

There's a hole in my heart

That season when I cried right in front of your eyes

Stay with me

Aki waited for the last notes to fade away, leaving him strangely vulnerable in the silence that followed. "Do you like Miki Matsubara?"

"The woman singing?"

"Yeah."

Angel took another breath and leaned a little closer. Aki felt his mouth go dry when a bit of light caught on Angel's lips. "I think she should get over it already."

"What?" Aki leaned back, offended.

"She's singing about how much she wants her lover to stay. I mean, if he doesn't want a relationship, then that's his problem."

Aki's mouth opened involuntarily. "That's what you're focusing on?!"

"I mean, what else is there?"

"The music?"

"I never took you for a cheesy sort of human. But I suppose I can be surprised." With that, the devil slipped out of the car into the darkness.

Aki heard a little giggle from the backseat and whirled around—only to find that his other roommates had escaped eternal slumber and were now wide awake.

"Really, Aki? You're listening to soppy stuff like that?" Denji grinned. "I always thought you'd listen to classical music or somethin'."

"Pathetic mortal." Power didn't seem to understand what Denji thought was so funny, but she laughed even harder, as if to make up for it.

"Oh, shut it." Aki pulled the keys from the ignition and stepped out of the vehicle.

The Shinobazu Pond wasn't the black mass of water Aki had imagined. Instead, the warm lights of Tokyo's buildings—still surrounding them—were scattered across its surface. Streaks of gold and neon glistened over the rippling water.

"Last one in the water is inferior!" Power bolted past him, already down to her underwear.

Denji followed close behind, still in his short pajama pants. "You cheated!"

The two of them tumbled into the water with a loud yell, sending a huge splash dangerously close to soaking Aki's clothes. Luckily, the park seemed nearly deserted, with only a few people visible on the opposite shoreline.

"Those idiots." Aki leaned back on the hood of his car, careful not to let his palm leave a mark on the (still) spotless surface. He pulled a cigarette from his pocket and held it between his lips while fumbling for his lighter.

Angel began peeling his clothes off his skin, and Aki quickly looked anywhere but at him. The temple across the pond suddenly seemed like a much better focal point for his attention. Maybe he should visit and pray a little.

"Are you not coming?" The Devil's voice was closer to his ear than expected, making Aki's heart give a startled hitch.

"Nope. I don't do childish things like that."

Angel hummed and moved toward the water, slipping beneath the surface with far more elegance than Aki would have expected. How could something with wings even swim? And was it really smart to let Angel near a possibly deep and dangerous body of water?

Whatever. Aki needed to pull his head out of the gutter and get back to his main objective: figuring out whether Devils were capable of experiencing the passion of music.

He took a long drag from his cigarette and let the smoke curl into the warm night air. It was... nice, for once, to be doing something not work-related. Well—as non-work-related as living with multiple Devils could be. Maybe he could take them to a karaoke bar next time. Though, knowing Denji and Power, they'd turn the place to sawdust before the third song even started.

Something about that thought made him feel strangely sad. He didn't have time to unpack why, though, before something yanked his ankle and pulled him backward, his back slamming into his beautiful car.

Hissing in pain, he reached for his sword—only to remember he'd left it at home. At an alarming rate, he was dragged further, lake water already soaking into his pants.

A burst of giggling from the darkness told him exactly what was going on.

"What the actual fuck, Power?!"

"Come on, you must indulge in the fun of water as well, human!"

With one final pull, Aki's waist was completely submerged. "I hate you guys!"

"You love us, really." Denji slung an arm around Aki's shoulders, making a feeble attempt to dunk his head under as well.

Aki opened his mouth to protest, but all that came out was a mouthful of lake water. That wasn't... true, was it?

He heard quiet snickering from further out on the lake. Angel's head bobbed above the waves.

"Come on! The only time you show emotion is for stuff like this?" Aki had to raise his voice so it wouldn't be drowned out by the water's ripples.

Angel brushed a few wet curls out of his eyes. "I do derive a great amount of pleasure from seeing you suffer."

Aki dove completely underwater to give the devil a little scare, only to resurface a few seconds later wearing an expression like he'd just bitten into a lemon. "Fuck, I don't have any spare underwear!"

"Underwear is overrated!" Power and Denji shouted in unison, and Aki wondered—yet again—if he really needed to reevaluate his life choices.

They spent a good two hours in the lake swimming, trying to drown each other, and—at one point—watching Denji attempt to build his own boat using only plastic bags he found in Aki's car.

Eventually, Aki's battery started to drain. He headed back to the car to smoke in some semblance of peace. His last cigarette had, unfortunately, been soaked by lake water—a tragedy, but still more forgivable than the small back-shaped dent now decorating the hood of his car. He swore he'd kill Denji and Power for it... just maybe not today.

He stretched out on a patch of dry grass next to the Toyota, one arm tucked behind his head, a cigarette nestled between the fingers of his other hand.

The Tokyo skyline was completely empty—a vast, dark blue nothingness with not a single star in sight. It made him want to go back to Hokkaido, back to his old home where the night sky was a sprawling web of stars.

"It's quite lonely, isn't it?"

This time, Aki didn't even flinch when the Angel Devil snuck up on him.

"I suppose it is." He patted the grass beside him, and the Devil slumped down, still dripping wet. "You're a good swimmer, Angel."

A warm breeze rippled across the water, making the reflections of light sway.

"You're not. You swim like a drowning rat."

"You always have the kindest words."

"I try." One of Angel's damp locks was caught by the wind and brushed against the side of Aki's neck. Angel quickly caught it in a fist and tried to tuck it behind his ear, glancing at Aki as if expecting him to flinch.

"Turn around."

Angel hesitated, then turned his head with a grudging mumble.

Aki's pulse picked up as he reached both hands toward either side of Angel's head. Angel had assured him that touching his hair wouldn't steal his life force—but what about his halo? What if his fingers accidentally brushed skin? Well... there were worse ways to lose some time.

As gently as possible, Aki gathered the hair from in front of Angel's face and swept it back, catching the rest between his fingers. It wasn't as soft as it looked—probably the lake water, or the lack of a proper brush.

"What exactly is this? Another one of your human rituals?" Angel's only sign of unease was the way he tore up a few blades of grass in a white-knuckled grip.

"All done." Aki let one of his hairbands snap into place, twisting it until the ponytail sat perfectly on the devil's head.

When Aki's hands were safely out of range, Angel reached back to feel his hair and shook his head to test its hold. "Humans really love to play dress-up doll with me, don't they?"

Aki was fairly sure he was joking. "I'm afraid I don't have a mirror to show you how you look."

Angel avoided eye contact, though his expression looked dangerously close to a smile. "I'm sure Denji and Power will tell me soon enough. You remember what they did when Kobeni got that haircut?"

"Better not remind me. I still feel bad for whoever had to remove that wig from the office fan."

Angel covered his mouth with one hand and let out a quiet snicker, which immediately made Aki's throat go dry.

"But don't worry," Aki said, "I think you look very handsome."

You could've heard a pin drop—if not for Denji and Power's distant shouting. Angel recovered first, snorting and swishing his hair over his shoulder.

"Handsome's the word you're going with? What about 'drop-dead gorgeous'? Or 'eye-cavity-inducing'?"

"Can't you just take a compliment?" Aki groaned, burying his hot face in his palms and trying hard not to cringe at himself.

Angel ignored him and started to get up, heading back toward the lake—but Aki brushed his fingers against one of the devil's wings, making him falter. "Not so fast. We had a deal, remember?"

Angel craned his neck to see what Aki was pulling from a plastic bag in the grass. When he saw it was the radio, he gave a disappointed tsk. "Come on. I don't have the ability to understand music—you know that."

"You promised me three chances."

"Fine."

Aki slid the record in and leaned back, closing his eyes.

Alone, I gaze out at the autumn sea and remember

Looking for a shadow of that summer...

The air was warm around them, the breeze cooling the last droplets of water clinging to Aki's skin.

A person who gently stole my heart, then disappeared

I wrote 'goodbye' in the sand...

In the background, Denji and Power were arguing over a poor fish they'd found in the lake. Tomorrow, he'd have to drag them both out of bed—again—since they hadn't slept nearly enough. Maybe a good breakfast would help? When had he become the butler for two Devils and a Hybrid?

Remember summer days

We can't go back anymore

Now the waves will wash away the memories

Oh, I loved you...

Maybe picking a song from another '80s city pop idol hadn't been smart, especially since Angel didn't seem like the type to enjoy Miki Matsubara. Still, something told Aki that Anri's voice might suit him better.

Summer is fading away

I won't forget you, but when winter comes

I'll find another love...

Aki cracked one eye open, expecting Angel's usual flat, dismissive expression—and ready to hear another jab at human music—but was caught off guard.

The Devil's face was set in a small, sad smile, his left hand raised as though he wanted to pluck the sky itself and pull it down to earth with him.

Maybe it was just the lake water. Maybe it was imagination. But Aki could have sworn something shimmered at the corner of Angel's eye.

"I guess human music isn't too bad after all."

Chapter Text

Nothing held us back or dared to try
Something in our blood won't let us die
We built our world of metal, watched it grow
Fueled the fury solid to the bone

-Deal with the Devil by Judas Priest, 1990

"If my assessments are correct, then Tokyo Special Division 4 has a success rate roughly 120 percent higher than any other division we've had in the last five years. Now, while many critics point to the deficient teamwork, I argue—and I'm sure you'll agree with me..."

"Aki, are you listening to me?"

"What? Of course I am!" Aki tensed in his chair, doing his best to look alert and not like he hadn't slept properly in days.

After that first time they'd gone swimming together, Aki and his three roommates had developed a habit of sneaking out to the lake—or other places—late at night. Aki always pretended he was only tagging along because Angel and Power weren't allowed to be left unsupervised, but he'd been caught enjoying himself more than he cared to admit.

If they didn't go for a midnight swim, they were bowling, going to the cinema, or even hiking through the night—once because Power swore she'd spotted one of the Cat Devil's hairballs in some undergrowth.

Makima leaned forward on her desk, rearranging some documents without breaking eye contact.

"I just feel like lately your mind has been elsewhere."

"Hmm. I'm not sure I follow." Truthfully, Aki felt more at ease than he had in years since meeting his new roommates—even if they caused him enough stress to make any man go bald at twenty-two.

Makima set her papers aside, pushed back from the table, and began walking toward him, her heels clicking softly on the office floor. Before he could react, she reached down, took hold of his tie, and readjusted it slowly—leaning slightly over him as she did.

"Maybe you want a little more motivation? I can think of one or two things to help you relax."

Okay—shoot—this came out of nowhere. Aki could feel his brain short-circuiting, his palms damp with sweat inside the black gloves clutched in his lap.

"Your shoulders are awfully tense." She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around them, her body now completely blocking his view. She smelled a little like Angel—only less natural, more like something manufactured in a laboratory.

Still—it would've been so easy to just give in and enjoy it. Every part of him wanted to.

How lazy can you be, human? You're not even putting in any effort to fight her.

It felt like lifting a car off his arm, but Aki still managed to wedge a hand between them and push Makima back.

She didn't look angry—just wore a small, disbelieving smile.

"I don't think this is a professional work environment, madam." Aki kept his voice steady, trying not to let the anger show.

This was what Makima had been doing to Denji, wasn't it? Weeks ago, when he'd first met the guy, Aki had just been jealous. But now? Now he was pissed. How dare this woman take advantage of a literal teenager? Didn't she have enough people ready to bury themselves between her saggy tits?

Makima reached out one delicate hand, and as if pulled by an invisible force, Aki's wrist shot forward until his fingers interlocked with hers.

"I see you're wearing gloves, Hayakawa."

"Is there a problem?" Again, Aki had to use all his strength to pull free, resisting the urge to hide his hand behind his back.

"Not at all." Makima smiled sweetly and returned to her seat. "Now—about those statistics..."

-

When Aki got up and unsteadily strode out of the office, he was still feeling a little queasy. Why the fuck had he just done that?

He could've had it—he could've scored with Makima, the hottest woman in the entire Devil Hunter Association. He could've had everything he'd desired for years...

But she never would've loved him. His rejection hadn't even dented her pride, let alone her feelings. Somehow, in that great mess of lust and confusion, he'd managed to untangle a single knot—and the weight of the world felt lifted from his shoulders.

He stared down at his leather gloves, clenching and unclenching his fingers. They were relatively thick, with gold embroidery at each wrist. If anyone asked, he'd say he wanted a firmer grip on his sword and that his hands were wearing down from constant combat with Devils. Everyone would believe that was his sole reason for wearing them—everyone except—

Aki sputtered a curse as he nearly went headlong over a single leg that had shot out in front of him, seemingly from nowhere.

Himeno stepped out from her hiding spot behind the water dispenser, looking far too pleased with herself. "Alert as always, Hayakawa."

"What are you, five?"

"Oh, so the anti-wrinkle cream is finally taking effect?" Himeno rested a hand under her chin and fluttered her eyelashes dramatically.

Before Aki could grumble out a reply, a familiar smell hit his nose. He straightened, fully indignant. "You're not supposed to smoke inside Headquarters!"

"It's fine unless someone snitches." Himeno gestured for them to sit on the floor, cigarette perched between her fingers.

The sight was all too familiar to Aki, who'd been dealing with Himeno's addictions for a long time. Back in the day, it used to make him angry—her inability to control herself, her choice of simple pleasures over dignity and health. But now... now he didn't really care. Working with the Devil Hunter Association took a lot out of a person—especially when it came to trivial things like health.

Aki sighed before slumping down next to her. "Already drunk?"

"I wish."

He waved a bit of smoke away from his face, but his wrist was suddenly caught in a firm grip.

"I don't fucking believe it! Look how cute you are." Himeno's face was inches from his hand, and Aki immediately tried to pull it back.

"What? What the fuck are you on about?" Sure, it might look strange for him to suddenly start wearing gloves, but seriously, it didn't mean anything. He was living with the Angel Devil, after all—this extra bit of clothing was just protection, nothing more.

Himeno let her thumb brush the rim of the leather. "Oh, Aki, we're all adults here. No need to hide anything."

"I—that's not it. Whatever you're thinking, it's wrong."

Since they'd met, Aki had watched Himeno play matchmaker for a handful of people. She was the kind of person who loved building relationships for everyone but herself. And in trying, she often bulldozed right over Aki's boundaries whenever romance came up. This was one of those moments.

Giving him a knowing smirk, Himeno finally let his hand go and leaned back a little. "Listen here, I know you're an idiot when it comes to this stuff, but sometimes you just gotta do what feels right."

"I don't know what you're on about."

They'd had this conversation before, hadn't they? Why couldn't Himeno just mind her own business without insinuating... whatever it was she was insinuating?

Of course, she didn't stop. "You know, I've recently made a friend who's in a relationship with a Devil. Four of them, in fact! They're way healthier than a lot of people I know."

"Not everybody is as desperate to be in a relationship as you!" Aki couldn't hide the angry bite in his tone, even if he tried.

"No, but like... you've been single for how many years now? You deserve to be loved, Aki. You deserve to experience it. I hate to say it, but we don't have enough time to just wait around. It could all be over in a matter of..." She glanced down at her watch, as if to underline the point. "...about half an hour."

Trying to ignore how strangely Himeno was acting, Aki folded his arms across his chest. He had been in a relationship once—back when he was still a teenager. Some girl had asked him out, and he'd agreed. They lasted about a week before Aki broke it off, deciding he didn't need distractions from his goal: avenging his family.

Since then, romance barely crossed his mind. It was a dumb concept. He couldn't see the appeal in falling head over heels for some girl. The few experiences that lingered still made him sick with embarrassment—a poster of a rockstar with long hair, a couple of his colleagues patting him on the back and teasing him. Those thoughts were shoved far back in his mind.

Of course he felt lonely. In the past, he'd even felt jealous of Himeno for being so sexually active without a second thought.

Then Makima came into the picture, and everything shifted. For the first time in his life, Aki felt desire for someone he was supposed to feel desire toward—a beautiful woman who drove every one of his colleagues mad. He thought he was finally experiencing it. Maybe he'd even end up falling in love.

But he had never loved Makima. He'd just let himself be used by her. And he probably never would fall in love, in the end. His mother would've cried about that if she were still alive—she'd been such a sensitive woman, valuing love and family above everything else. She'd be horrified to know that Aki would spend his life with neither.

Himeno squeezed his gloved hand, smiling at him like she could read him like an open book."It wouldn't cost anything to try. He doesn't show it, of course, but I think he's lonely too."

That made Aki angry all over again. "Lonely? He's a fucking Devil. I could never—I can't even touch him!"

He could've slapped himself for acknowledging who she was talking about. The whole situation suddenly felt suffocating. He felt cornered, terrified to let a single thought simmer through his racing mind.

"Dude, I'm pretty sure Kishibe is legally married to that flask of his. It can't get any worse than that, can it?"

All Aki wanted was to run—run far away from Himeno, from Makima, from all Devils. But that had never been an option. He wasn't a coward. "You can't get a grip, can you? I'm normal. I can't be—I don't want to—there's a list of reasons why this can't happen."

They couldn't touch. Angel was literally a Devil with questionable capacity for emotion. He was also Aki's coworker—

"Aki, we live in a world where everything and everybody is going crazy. Nothing is normal. People are scared out of their minds and looking for something to fill the void. That's why Devils exist. If we're forced to deal with this shit every day, then we deserve to be happy too. You deserve to be happy, no matter how weird you think the cause is."

Something inside Aki felt like it was deflating. He buried his face between his knees, not wanting to look at Himeno. A warm hand began circling on his shoulder.

"C'mon, Devil Hunter. The probability that both of you make it past thirty is so small that I'd hurry if I were you."

"How reassuring." Point number thirty-three on Aki's imaginary list.

"I think the Devil needs someone who cares about him. Everybody does, really."

Something clicked in Aki's mind. It had been there for months, but now he finally felt the courage to acknowledge it. It wasn't love—no way he was romantically desperate enough to fall in love with a creature he knew so little about. It was just... interest. A feeling he couldn't seem to shake, one that would probably haunt him for the rest of his (numbered) days. But he'd seen weirder shit before.

"Fuck you, Himeno."

"If this works out, you owe me a smoke!" Himeno got up, using Aki's head for balance and tousling his hair in the process.

"Oh, and before I forget... if anything happens today, just know it's not his fault. And you should definitely keep working with him."

"What?" Anxiety pooled in Aki's stomach. "What could happen? Why would he have something to do with it?"

Himeno made a motion as if sealing her lips. "It's safer if you don't know."

Smiling, she put the cigarette between her lips and walked down the corridor.

***

"Denji, this is the last time I'm saying it: I'M NOT A DATING GURU."

The teenage Hybrid wore a look of pure hope as he flailed an earpiece around Angel's face. "Come on, we all know the ladies fall all over you! You just don't want to share."

Angel wasn't in the mood to argue—quite the opposite. If he didn't get rid of Denji in the next half hour, he'd have a real problem. "When have you ever seen me with a lady? Not even my wife—"

"YOU ARE MARRIED?"

"I—well, I was married, but that doesn't have anything to do with this!" Wait, was Angel a widower now? Could he have gotten financial benefits from his spouse's life insurance? Probably not if he'd been the lead cause of death.

"Please!" Denji shoved the earpiece into Angel's hands again. "Whenever I talk to her, I sound like a total moron! It's a miracle she still talks to me."

"I have the emotional capacity of a teaspoon, Denji. Why the fuck would I know what to say?" Just the thought of the whole operation made Angel shiver in disgust. He'd rather be sent back to hell than be forced to secretly whisper advice to a teenager on a date through a pair of earpieces.

"You're like—the smartest guy I know." Denji sounded genuinely crestfallen. "Beam thinks so too."

Even if he'd never admit it out loud, Angel was pretty proud of Denji for finally scoring a chance with a girl. He didn't mope around the house as often and sounded a lot happier. Angel didn't know why a human—(he presumed the girl was human)—would voluntarily put up with the Hybrid, but as long as she didn't turn out to be some kind of psychotic assassin, that didn't concern him.

"Listen. I'm no expert, but you said it yourself: if she still talks to you, maybe she enjoys being with an idiot. Trying to hide that part of your personality won't help. Just be the least obnoxious version of yourself you can manage."

"Wow. You're a genius after all." Denji handed him one end of the earpiece anyway. Angel swore to himself he'd burn it at the first chance he got.

"I'll tell you all about it once I'm done. Are you sure you don't want to come to the coffee shop after my date? There's cake!"

"No, I'm good." Angel waved a free hand dismissively and shoved the earpiece in his pocket with the other. "You'll be late if you don't piss off now."

"Okay! See you 'round."

As soon as the Hybrid bounced off, Angel swiftly turned and walked in the opposite direction. He tried to stay under the radar as he slowly descended more and more stairs. He only had 20 minutes left—luckily, he didn't have to shake Aki off too, as the Devil Hunter had been called into a meeting with Makima. Though he hoped dearly the meeting wouldn't last too long, so as not to interfere with their mission.

Angel swiped some strands that had fallen from his ponytail behind his ears. Ever since Aki had tied his hair back at the lake, they'd tried new hairstyles daily. Angel was surprised at how many ways Aki had managed to keep the annoying locks out of the Devil's face—but he supposed Aki had some experience with his own hair.

After all the braids, buns, and knots were tested, Angel decided he liked the ponytail best—and Aki kept doing his hair for him anyway.

Today might be the last time Aki would do that for him, though. Would the Devil Hunter still even talk to Angel, Power, or Denji if Makima died and their job started falling apart? Angel wanted to get the other two to flee with him—change countries, probably. Go to Italy or Greece, as far away from the Devil Hunter Association as possible. He wanted Aki to come with them, but that wasn't very realistic.

Even if Angel promised to help him find the Gun Devil on their own, Aki wouldn't appreciate leaving his duties behind—not for someone who had helped kill his boss.

It had been weeks since Angel last descended those steps into the basement of Public Safety. He couldn't say he missed his old home dearly, but the peace and quiet were something to consider.

The temperature dropped, and each of his footsteps echoed loudly through the halls. Humans mostly avoided this part of the building; they only came down to make contracts or check if any Devils had escaped. Still, it would be awful luck if anyone saw the Angel Devil now.

As he walked on, Angel could feel multiple pairs of eyes scrutinizing him through the bars of their cells. Some voices whispered behind metal doors—beckoning.

He and the rest of A.M.E.N. had been incredibly lucky their target wasn't stored in the Tokyo Detention Center—getting someone out of there would've been a whole arc on its own. But humans tended to underestimate captured Devils quite often.

Finally coming to a halt, Angel nonchalantly leaned against the metal door of the cell he'd been looking for, trying to ignore the heat seeping from small cracks in the wall.

"Hey, how's it going?"

"Shhhhut the fuck up, I don't talk to walking hot wings." A crackling sound came from within the cell, a puff of smoke trying to wreathe through the bars on the door.

Angel had the distinct feeling he'd dealt with the Fire Devil before, in some of his many lifetimes. He also had the distinct feeling the guy was a flaming jerk. "I'm here for a contract."

"Go on, my time is preccccious, you know." Right, there were so many things to do in a closed cell.

"If I let you out of here, you're going to help one of my human acquaintances in return." It had never led to bad consequences to go off-script a bit—hopefully. Angel had a little time to spare and was determined to try every option he had.

"Ah, getting real comfie with the humans, are you? Like a little pet. See, the difference between us is that I never bow down to any human, I am never tamed and... Wait, have you left? Because that would be totally uncool, not in a good way, of course."

Angel stepped back from the door and peered inside.

"You never shut up, do you?"

"Hah, knew you'd be back, bitchhhh." The Fire Devil was in a sad state, his entire form simmered down to a blue flame flickering in the corner of the cell.

"Are you going to listen now or not? Because there are like three other Devils I can make this contract with." The crackling inside the cell grew quieter, so Angel continued, "I let you out, and in turn you cast a hellflame upon someone... and don't wreak havoc on the world."

That condition had been set up on the insistence of Kishibe, who had dealt with the Fire Devil before.

'It took us three years just to catch him, and so many people got killed they started calling us literal toast in the office. What I mean is, I'd rather sew each of my toes together than let that annoying prick run wild.'

"Nope. That's a shhhit deal."

"I can ask someone else." The Angel Devil never was one to haggle like this. Back at the beach, his human wife would argue with fishermen trying to scam them until they got at least twenty percent off. Now Angel tried to copy her posture—arms slightly crossed, one hip jutted out, and a bored expression on his face (that was by far the easiest gesture).

"You have two conditions on your part! You know that isn't a solid contract."

Angel tusked dismissively. "You forgot to make the 'sh' sound in conditions."

"You're an insensssitive prick!"

"That's not even a 'sh,' that's just an 's'!"

Steps down the corridor made them both shut up for a moment, even the crackling inside the cell toned down. "I can't take this deal if you don't give me something else in return. And casting a hellflame is a human sacrifice minimum! What do you take me for? A charity shhhop?" The flames sounded like they were whispering now, but Angel could see a flicker of desperation in the bluish flame.

Sacrificing Himeno had always been the plan of their operation. She had said she didn't mind, but Angel could feel the typical fear of death, one he was far too familiar with, leaking from every pore of her. That made her brave in Angel's eyes. She had talked to him for hours and hours, and Angel felt like he knew everything and nothing about her at the same time.

A realization hit him like a speeding train. He didn't want Himeno to die. Even though it would benefit him directly, he wanted her to live. Even though she was a human.

And now she would die like it happened every time.

"Do you know about my ability?"

If flames had eyes, the Fire Devil would probably roll them. "What, do you think you're some sort of celebrity? Every Devil's supposed to know what trick you can come up with? There are like... nearly infinite Devils, and you think you're specccial enough for everyone to just know?"

Angel opened his mouth but was interrupted by another crackle.

"That being said, yes, I did hear of you around here."

A tiny bit of satisfaction washed over Angel. He was a lot stronger than many gave him credit for—back in the day, people were terrified of Angels. They were viewed as cruel messengers of God who punished people. Nowadays, that fear had subsided a little, but Angel still kept a chunk of his old powers.

"So you know I'm basically a human-life battery? If it's lifespan you want, I can give it to you. Nobody else has to die." Time was ticking, and Angel was far from the official script—the only reason he was sent to negotiate with the Fire Devil was because he usually went right to the core without wasting his energy.

"I don't like it." The flame wiggled on the floor. "It's like—not even a bio human soul. Just some scraps you collected over the years."

Angel had to fight the urge to flip the Devil off and walk away. Not now, when he was so close. Not when Himeno could live. "Thirty years and your release, for a hellflame, and you not harming any humans or their property after your escape."

"Ninety."

"Forty."

"Sixty-six."

"Fucking fine." Angel snapped his hand to the cell's bars in the door, feeling the invisible barrier tearing at his skin.

"Still shhhit, but I'm just too nice for this business." A single spark peeled itself off the crackling flames and floated toward Angel's outstretched hand.

"It's a contract, then."

The warmth of the ember gently fell on his skin, leaving a little stinging sensation that made Angel step back from the door. He raised his hand to his halo and started concentrating.

"I do hope you'll be considerate when opening this door. I really hate having rubble..."

"Usage: ten years." Painful but a necessary sacrifice.

"...stuck in my ash, it downplays the property value by—"

Boom

The entire building shook violently as Angel's pickaxe smashed through the metal door, sending part of it crashing to the floor. A heatwave exploded through the corridor, whipping Angel's loose hair into a frenzy.

"Shhhheshhh, baby, guess who's back in town?"

The Fire Devil rose from his blue flames into a red-hot giant before striding out of the door and up the stairs, scorching off part of Angel's eyebrows in the process.

Grumbling, Angel hefted his pickaxe—now hot enough to cook an egg on—and started in the opposite direction of the stairs. Now came the most crucial part of his operation: fleeing. If anyone found out he'd freed one of Japan's most dangerous Devils, he'd be executed in a heartbeat. Luckily, after living here for some time, he knew his way around the building's basement.

Instead of taking the direct route, he aimed for the garbage disposal near the back entrance. It went just as deep as the basement, and if he could break through the wall between the corridor and the shaft, he could slip outside. Behind him, he could already hear shouts and the pounding of boots—damn those Devil Hunters and their reflexes.

Still, Angel felt... happy, if he could call it that. He had saved Himeno from sacrificing herself! What were a few years of his lifespan compared to that? All he had to do now was find her and share the good news.

Then, suddenly, everything slowed. The rusty walls around him drained of color, and sound seemed to thicken in the air. Angel turned his head, as if moving through syrup, and met a single staring eye.

"Whas'up?"

Angel's steps faltered, and he skidded to a stop beside the cell's bars.

"The future rules!"

"Who are you?"

The eye receded into the darkness, revealing a fleshy head with six slits carved where eyes should be. "I'm your best buddy, remember?"

A buddy? Was this the one Kishibe and Quanxi had mentioned—the Devil who had started the whole A.M.E.N. business in the first place?

"You might've forgotten about our little contract, but guess what—I didn't!"

Angel didn't have a contract with anyone except the Fire Devil. Had he made one in a previous life? Did that even count? And why the hell would a past version of him be dumb enough to do that?

"Say it with me: The future rules!"

"I'm kind of on the run right now, so if you—"

"Right, you'll be caught if you stay here for more than twenty seconds. And in about a week, you'll be dismembered and killed."

That sounded rather painful. "Twen—"

"For our little contract, I was thinking something small... like a mug. Oh, and put 'Future rules' on it!"

Angel felt that familiar tingling at the tips of his fingers and wings—the telltale sign that a deal was genuine. A mug wasn't too bad... strange, but manageable.

"That could cost about... let's see... all your lifespan."

The word all scraped out of the Future Devil's mouth like chalk dragging across a blackboard, and a shiver crawled up Angel's spine before lodging in his throat.

"No! I don't—I can't—" Like a puppet on a string, Angel's hand moved to his halo and began pulling. Light flooded the corridor so fiercely it almost seemed black before his eyes, and every single nerve in his body screamed. It felt as though he were ripping out his own veins, one massive root at a time.

It wasn't just the people he'd killed recently—no, this went back to the very beginning. Thousands of years. Angel was creating something that should never exist. 

In his hand, he held... a mug. Unmistakably a mug, even though it looked like pure light somehow trapped without reflecting on its surroundings. It felt smooth under his fingers, warm and cold at the same time. As Angel stared at it, the realization seeped in.

He had been stripped bare.

He had lost everything—his past, every person he had killed, his powers. He felt as helpless as a newborn dropped in the middle of the ocean. He had lost any use humans might have for him.

He had lost her.

Her soul, which had always been somewhere within him, was gone.

And—oh god. Angel's stomach churned. He had lost his sixty-six years.

Himeno was going to die.

Everything began to crumble.

"Thanks!" The Future Devil stretched out his clawed hand, expectant. Human shouts pierced Angel's awareness again—had it already been twenty seconds?

With more anger than he had ever felt in his life, Angel swung the mug and smashed it into the Future Devil's face. The blow landed with a sickening thud, releasing another wave of black light. The yellow eye widened in pure shock, the body quivered, and a shriek rang out—something like, I didn't see that coming.

Before he could even process what he'd done, Angel was running again, just as someone turned the corridor.

He slammed his pickaxe into the nearest wall, sending dust and rubble cascading down—maybe unleashing another Devil in the process, but who was counting?

"Get that bitch!" The Devil Hunters were beginning to round on him, close enough to make Angel's blood freeze cold in panic.

Angel skidded to a stop at the dead end he knew—hoped—hid a tunnel behind it. He smashed through, and tons of reeking garbage gushed through the crack. At least he was good at holding his breath.

Chapter Text

Stars fading, but I linger on, dear
Still craving your kiss
I'm longing to linger 'til dawn, dear
Just saying this

-Dream a Little Dream of Me by the Mamas & the Papas, 1968

The air outside Public Safety was humid, and clouds were blocking the sun, but that couldn't have worsened Aki's mood by much.

Angel had promised to wait for him in the building's entrance hall, but now he was nowhere to be seen. If anyone found out about that, it would be considered yet another setback—and bring a wave of controversy Aki didn't want to deal with right now. Maybe Angel had gone with Denji and his date? Aki had overheard Denji talking about getting earpieces so Angel could feed him secret advice... but there was no way the Devil would agree to that.

The cherry on top: the Fire Devil was rumored to have escaped only minutes ago, and what felt like all of Public Safety was rushing into the city to catch it. Aki tried not to think about Himeno and how she might've known about this beforehand. What if she and Angel got caught in the crossfire? What if they were hurt? He had to find Angel before going after Denji, Power and Himeno.

The shuffle of feet behind him gave Aki just enough time to whirl around before the Angel Devil collided with him head-on. He was sure he'd never seen him run before.

"What's going on? I've been looking for you everywhere!"

His sharp tone died in his throat when he saw Angel's whole body trembling, his eyes darting wildly.

"Where's Himeno?" Angel's voice was tight with distress, his hand clamping down on Aki's sleeve. Noticing that the Devil was covered in stains and flecks of garbage from head to toe, Aki resisted the instinct to pull away.

The earlier conversation with Himeno resurfaced in his mind, making him want to shake Angel off even faster. "Uh... I just saw her inside somewhere."

"I needed to tell her something!" Really, Angel should take a shower first—had he been rummaging through Tokyo's entire trash supply? "She's near Makima's offi—"

A loud bang from behind cut him off. Angel flinched back instantly, which only made Aki step closer by reflex. A horrible gut feeling hit as smoke rose from the back of the building—enough to suggest at least an eight of it had been blown apart.

"Shit," Angel breathed, before bolting—not toward the explosion, but toward the stairwell leading up to Makima's office.

Aki bit his lip hard. Should he follow the Devil, or join the streams of his remaining comrades who were racing toward the blast?

"Was it the Fire Devil again?"

"No, Mitsurabi's squad is still chasing him on the other end of town!"

"I saw Kishibe heading this way just a few minutes ago!"

"Isn't he supposed to be in Nagatachō?!"

"Fuck, you don't think he's dead?!"

Normally, Aki could keep calm in situations like this. If he couldn't, he wouldn't have lasted two months in this job. The smart, rational choice was to help his coworkers first and track down the Angel Devil later.

But something in Angel's face... it was the same panic he'd seen when Kishibe and that woman had ambushed him in a bar. Aki still remembered what came after—how Angel had cried the next day, then cut off his own finger.

He couldn't let that happen again. Not this time. He had the burning gut feeling that if he let Angel go now, something terrible would happen.

So, against all better judgment, Aki shoved past the stream of people rushing the other way and chased the faint flicker of a red ponytail up the stairs. "Angel, wait!"

For a second, he nearly lost sight of him, but with the path clear now, Aki quickly caught up. Luckily, he was faster.

"What are you doing?"

Angel stumbled but kept running, panting hard. "I need to stop Himeno from doing something stupid. The Fire De—uhm—she might get herself killed. There are other options! I saved her, I... I can bargain for more time. I can get the lifespan if he just lets me have more time!"

"The Fire Devil?" The sinking feeling returned, and Aki thought back to his conversation with Himeno half an hour ago. She'd seemed fine then—but now that he thought about it, she'd seemed a little too relaxed. "You're not making sense, Angel."

Angel glanced up at him briefly, then stopped cold when they reached their destination—Makima's office.

"We're too late," the Devil breathed, clutching his own chest like he needed something to hold onto.

The door—and the entire wall of Makima's office—had been blown away by some strange force. On top of the overturned desk, Himeno stood, sword aimed straight at Makima.

She was pinned to the remaining wall with three blades driven through her limbs and one through her throat. The white-haired woman Aki had seen at the bar was wiping blood from her palms onto her shirt, standing beside Makima to ensure she couldn't break free.

A thin layer of liquid coated the floor, reflecting the dull gray sky through the gaping hole in the wall. The heavy stench clogged Aki's throat—gasoline.

Makima didn't seem dead. Though she couldn't move or speak, her eyes tracked over Aki, calm and deliberate, as if trying to convey something without words.

It was too much.

Himeno turned, meeting Aki's gaze for a heartbeat before flashing him a sad smile. Then she pulled a lighter from her pocket.

Aki knew that lighter like it was his own.

Silver, unremarkable, except for the small gash near the front. Himeno had once spun him a dramatic story about how it came from the Blade Devil, but Aki knew it was from sitting on a smashed beer bottle. He'd seen her pull it out countless times to light her cigarettes. They would smoke together in quiet, listening to the city hum. Before his roommates, she had been the only person in his life. He would have sacrificed anything for her.

Himeno set the gasoline alight.

Flames roared across the floor. Makima screamed as her flesh burned away—only to knit itself back together instantly.

A Devil? The thought drifted through Aki's mind, but he was too numb to process it.

"I want to make a contract with you, Fire Devil. Turn this flame into an everlasting hellfire, and I'll give you my life in return." Thick, black fumes began pouring from Himeno's mouth—not the playful wisps she'd exhaled while smoking, but something heavier, serpentine, curling from her throat.

No. He had to stop this.

Aki stepped forward, but Angel's arm shot out, catching his sleeve. "Don't."

"What are you doing?" Aki tried to pull free, but Angel was stronger than he looked. His wings wrapped around them both—not in a protective embrace, but a prison.

That ignited something deep within Aki—an instinctual fury that had always lurked beneath the surface, the primal urge to eliminate every Devil he came across. His mind screamed at him to act, to protect Makima at all costs. Yet there, pressed into his chest, was Angel—whose hair Aki had braided that very morning. Angel who had started leaving treats out for Power's cat to find. Angel who had developed such a love for ice cream that Aki had even considered buying a miniature ice cream machine just for him.

Angel, who was now suffacating him with his feathers, holding him back.

Angel, who was most likely a conspirator, a willing accomplice in whatever plan was unfolding around them.

The betrayal stung sharper than any blade, and despite the tightness in his chest, his hand clenched instinctively around his weapon. He was ready to strike—until he saw the tears streaming down the Devil's face, his mouth twisted in a strange shape.

Pure pain. Aki felt it tearing into him, and if he had been a different man, he might have cried too.

But there wasn't time for that. There was never time for crying in the Devil Hunter business. Very few Hunters were able to in the first place: the raw human beauty to open oneself up to feeling when those feelings are so often negative and devastating took to great a toll.

Makima wrenched her burning bones free from one of the swords, lifting what remained of her finger to point at the white-haired woman beside her. The woman lunged with inhuman speed—but an invisible blast slammed into her arm, snapping it back.

She crumpled to the floor, blood seeping into the gasoline beneath her pale skin.

Makima gripped the blade in her middle, yanked it free with a sickening crunch, and stepped forward—still burning, still impossibly agile.

One by one, she cracked the blades as the smoke rising from Himeno's throat mingled with the smoke from the blazing fire surrounding her. Then, like a snake ready to strike, she surged forward and grabbed Himeno by the waist. The woman screamed as the flames caught on her, and the smoke seemed to twist and shape itself into the form of an axe before dissipating.

Makima lifted her burning fingers to her face and pressed with all her might.

Aki nearly looked away—but he couldn't. His body refused to respond properly anymore.

"To your credit, you nearly got me," Makima hissed, pressing even harder with a brutal force. A sickening sizzling noise filled the air. "But you shouldn't underestimate me."

Angel's wings contracted as he surged forward, shoving Makima away with his bare hands, the fire sizzling again on contact. It wasn't the most important detail in the moment, but Aki couldn't help wondering why Angel hadn't just materialized a weapon—his usual survival tactic.

Angel grabbed Himeno, whose hair was now starting to catch fire, and headed for the hole in the wall.

"Get them!" Makima wailed hoarsely, and Aki sprang into action. Like always—a fluid motion, perfect control. His hands curled, thumb pressing against his ring and middle finger. "Ko—"

Then Angel looked back at him, his large eyes flickering with traces of life in the firelight. He seemed to understand what was coming.

And Aki hesitated again.

Just for a second.

One simple second.

That was all it took for Angel to slip backwards and fall.

Aki reached the window just in time to see Angel fly for the first time.