Archive of Our Own ^beta

She didn't know what to make of her phone vibrating during the last hour of class. Her classmates paid no mind to it, each of them glued to one of the seven cliques within their stuffy classroom. And she stuck to her crevice of a desk, shoulders sagging as she slouched over her textbook. It was a free study period. With no teacher to berate her, Asa picked it up on the second ring.

“Old man, it's me, I need ya to pick up Nayuta from daycare again.”

Asa pulled the phone away from her ear, squinting at the caller ID. An unknown number, perhaps from a payphone. The person sounded a lot like-

“Chainsaw Man!” erupted in the background, “In a minute!” “Help!” “Save us!” “My son-” “Shut up, I'm on the phone!”

More voices overlapped and cut through each other, followed by a deep growl and harmonising screams. Yoru eagerly listened alongside her, revelling in the echoes of a devil's carnage oozing through the speaker, until Denji's voice returned in sharp contrast with its sloppy intonation.

“Please, Kishibe,” he said, Asa tightened the grip on her phone, “I can't do this on my own anymore.”

The line got disconnected with a loud bang. She inhaled sharply, frantically calling back. Denji wouldn't answer. Then again, that call definitely wasn't for her. He referred to her as 'Kishibe' and 'Old man', which either meant he dialed the wrong number or was trying really, really weird pet names.

What happened?  Yoru peeked at her phone from her shoulder. It sounded like a devil attack.

“Who knows?” Asa shoved the phone into her pocket, “Chainsaw Man's already there.”

All the more reason to pay him a visit, no? Yoru leaned in, her blood red eyes sparkling.

Asa flipped through her textbook, highlighting random text, telling herself it'll come out for the next test, copying words and phrases in her notes. As the incessant classroom conversation melted into the background, Denji's words unfortunately began to take root in the back of her mind. The frustration in his voice was hard to shake off. He was hardly ever so desperate.

...It could have been a prank. Denji had an odd enough sense of humour. But on the off chance that it wasn't, and he was actually caught in a devil attack, she had to do something, right?

She vaguely recalled him mentioning Nayuta's daycare centre. It wasn't too far away, and technically speaking, no one would notice if she left. You can't be serious.

Their relationship had been suspended in liminal space ever since he stood her up. She wasn't his girlfriend, she wasn't anything. He was the one who decided to pretend she didn't exist, so why should she bother? Even during the brief period when they were dating, there were lines she couldn't cross, especially concerning Nayuta. He never talked much about her.

Then she imagined a girl waiting all alone for her brother who won’t show. As pissed as she was with Denji, this was the least she could do. For Nayuta.

Yoru stuck her tongue out with a gag.

“It's not like I care about her or anything!” Asa whispered harshly, “I do this, we get closer to Denji again and that's what you want.”

You're certain this will work?

Asa swung her bag over her shoulder, “I know what I'm doing.”

Asa would later discover she did not, in fact, know what she was doing.

“You're not Kishibe.” Nayuta's face fell.

It should be concerning how easily the teachers let Asa pick up Nayuta. She was ready to whip out a thorough explanation, but as soon as she showed up, they let her in. There's no way everything else could have worked in Asa's favour, though.

“Right! Um,” Asa clapped her hands, “basically Denji's busy and he tried to call Kishibe-”

“So where is he?” She folded her arms, hostility in her glare. Her pupils were powerfully hypnotic. Asa fidgeted with her bag strap, afraid she might get sucked in if she stared for too long. It was embarrassing, getting scared by a child. She fought devils twice Nayuta's size.

“Denji called me by accident instead and asked me to pick you up, and I... decided to help him out?” God you are terrible at this.  

Nayuta nodded slowly, Asa couldn't tell if she bought it.

“I want ice cream,” she narrowed her eyes.

Asa barely concealed her relief, “what flavour?”

“Chocolate.”

She offered to hold her hand as they exited the school gate, but Nayuta slapped her hand. The sound was crisp against her skin, leaving a faint red smudge.

“Don’t touch me,” Nayuta said, “you stink.”

Asa’s eyes twitched, “I…stink?”

“Uh huh,” she said, “real bad.”

She resisted the urge to sniff herself, she always prided herself on her good hygiene, at least compared to the other classmates in her grade. Taking care of herself was hard sometimes, when the weight of existence hardly allowed her to get out of bed, but she certainly did not stink.

Maybe Nayuta didn't like the deodorant Asa was using. That had to be it. If not, the implication that Denji (whom she had witnessed eat an entire cake off the floor) somehow practised better cleanliness than her would send her into a coma. How dare she call us stinky. Yoru gaped, nostrils flaring. This child is a heathen, we must kill her at once.

Keep calm, Asa swallowed her frustration and attempted a smile.

“Alright,” she said in a small voice, “there’s a dessert shop nearby I can bring you to-”

“No! I choose the place,” Nayuta walked in front of her, “you follow me.”

Asa picked up the pace to join her, but stopped in her tracks as soon as Nayuta turned around and scowled.

“Don’t walk too close to me,” she said.

What a brat. She hoped Denji wouldn't let Nayuta get her way like this, but for his sake she kept these comments to herself.

“Y-yes Ma’am,” Asa said jokingly with a mock salute.

Nayuta hummed with satisfaction, continuing on her way to the dessert shop. Asa ran a hand down her face. She couldn’t believe was letting herself get pushed around by an eight-year-old.

There, there, Yoru patted Asa on the back, I would also like a milkshake. Vanilla.

Asa was thankful Yoru didn't try taking over her body, but still wished Yoru had a physical form for the sole purpose of punting Yoru like a football.

They sat together at a small table, Nayuta gorging herself on a double scoop of chocolate ice cream while Asa sipped her milkshake. The place Nayuta picked was moderately fancy, with ambient lighting and padded seats. Waitstaff in pristine uniform moved with rehearsed elegance, polite smiles sharp enough to cut through Asa’s dwindling budget. Asa gritted her teeth, the crumpled receipt lurking next to her glass. The prices weren’t just expensive, they felt like a deliberate choice.

Nayuta sneered, swinging her legs under the table. It wasn’t about the ice cream, this was a test. Or punishment. Maybe both. Asa mourned the loss of her monthly allowance, seeing the empty folds in her wallet. Losing a bit of cash felt like a price of admission to get into Nayuta’s good graces.

Unfortunately, Nayuta was hardly pleased. She had an expression Asa could only describe as unadulterated hatred. She clumsily licked around her ice cream cone as she shot daggers at Asa. The sight was kind of amusing, as it is incredibly difficult for someone to be menacing when their feet don't touch the ground. Asa had no idea what she may have done to wrong Nayuta in the past, (after all, they hadn't even met each other before today) but it was clear the kid held nothing but contempt for her.

Nayuta finished her cone, chocolate smeared around her nose and chin. Asa stretched forward with a napkin, which Nayuta quickly snatched to dab at her cheeks.

“What are your intentions with Denji?” She said with a completely straight face.

Asa choked, coughing pathetically on her sleeve, “I'm sorry, what do you mean?”

Nayuta balled her hands into fists, “are you going to take Denji away?”

The child knows we plan to kill him. Yoru began to size her up. I told you we need to kill her-  Asa immediately swatted the devil away from Nayuta as if she were a mosquito.

“Obviously not! I-I don't want to be with Denji, he's made it pretty clear he wants nothing to do with me,” Yoru sent her a death glare and Asa immediately sat straight, “Uh, I mean I'd like to get to know him better...if that's what he wants! But I would never take him away from you. I helped him out today because I know how much he cares about you,”

“How do you know that?” Nayuta blinked,

“He told me he wants to save enough money for you to go to a good college,” Asa said, “he'd do anything for you to live a normal life.”

Nayuta's gaze softened, “he said all that to you?”

“Of course, you're his little sister,” Asa said, “you're family.”

Asa never had siblings growing up, never got close enough to the kids at the orphanage to even call them friends. Yoru was hardly either of those things. She couldn't pretend to understand Denji and Nayuta's relationship. But she had known the comfort people waiting for her to come home, the warmth of someone's embrace; gentle headpats and goodnight kisses. She knew the pain that tore her insides when she forgot what it felt like. Asa wouldn't ever want Nayuta to doubt how much she was loved.

“W-well, I know that!” Nayuta huffed as she turned pink, “I love Denji the most! And he doesn't need to pay for college because I can do it myself, I'm very smart!”

“I topped the class for spelling today,” Nayuta puffed out her chest, “and maths.”

“Wow…” Asa said.

“And I answered lots of questions during class,” she added, going on about her various accolades.

Asa nodded, subconsciously waving away Yoru's repeated intrusive commands to kill the child. Looking past her mildly off-putting irises, Nayuta was honestly a little cute. Her long bangs draped over the space between her eyes, remnants of chocolate ice cream still under the tip of her nose. Asa hesitantly stretched out another napkin, which Nayuta accepted by tilting her head for Asa to wipe herself. Asa wanted to punch the air.

Yoru could suck it, because Asa clearly had this under control.

“You're still stinky but I think I can try to be friends with you.”

Asa did not know how to respond to that.

Nayuta took out the keys, tip-toed to open the front door, tiny fingers clutching the doorknob.

Their apartment was modest; three rooms surprisingly well-maintained, considering Denji. Clothes neatly folded in a basket, shoes lined perfectly on a rack. Two plants sat by the windowsill, one on the verge of wilting. A strange tabulation of April farts with Nayuta in the lead hung on the fridge. Asa didn't dare question it.

Nayuta informed Asa of The House Rules, which weren't that strict anyway- the third one being plain absurd. She knew to obey regardless, as she stood in a corner allowing Nayuta to hurry to the living room. Eight ivory bowls arranged in one straight line against the wall, and seven massive huskies pranced about, nearly toppling over Nayuta, showing her with licks. Asa tried not to gag. She was not a dog person. How the hell did Denji take care of so many pets on top of his job and school? Nayuta pulled out a sack of food, spilling food into each bowl, gleefully petting their heads.

Asa sat by the television, crossing her legs over a pillow, taking in the sight with a sigh. Their apartment, cramped and chaotic as it were, had more semblance of life than hers ever did. It wasn't perfect but it seemed enough. She peeled a hangnail off her index finger, hoping the sting would pull her away from her thoughts. She hated brooding. This was why she was always alone.

Yoru manifested by her side, as if about to share some words of wisdom. Can we kill the kid yet?

“Could you stop it!” Asa said.

“Stop what?” Nayuta said.

“N-nothing!” Asa scanned the apartment for a distraction, “you had ice cream but are you hungry for dinner?”

Her eyes lit up instantly (thank God her attention span was short) as she brought Asa to the kitchen counter. Opening the fridge, Nayuta pulled out a stack of mismatched tupperwares, the lids frayed and worn. She set them on the counter side by side, labelled ‘Denji’ and ‘Nayuta’ in messy Hiragana.

“Denji made katsu curry this morning,” she said, clicking the sides of the container to reveal a shockingly delicious meal.

The chicken cutlets had a shade of golden brown, resting neatly over glistening white rice. An assortment of steamed vegetables was carefully coated with rich curry. It wasn't even heated up yet, but the aroma was amazing, far better than anything Asa could ever hope to make with her sloppy cooking.

Asa briefly glanced at Denji's container. His food looked certainly more hurried. A small piece of chicken with a distinct char, thick curry dripping over clumped up rice.

“Pass me the Chainsaw Man bowl,” Nayuta instructed.

Asa snapped back to attention and opened a cupboard. There was a row of Chainsaw Man dishes, adorned with his stupid face in the center of a massacre. How appetising.

“You must really like Chainsaw Man,” she handed the bowl to Nayuta.

“I love Chainsaw Man,” Nayuta tipped the contents of her tupperware into the bowl, “I love Denji more though, I hope he comes back soon.”

The food fell on Chainsaw Man's head with a splat. Asa chuckled nervously.

“I'm sure he's on the way home already,” She said.

After Asa heated the food in the microwave, Nayuta happily salvaged every last grain because Denji had said "the farmers will be sad" if she wasted it. Asa tried not to think about that too much.

That was hours ago.

She eyed Denji's container of food slowly growing colder as Nayuta started packing her books for school the next day. The evening sky slowly plunged into darkness. Asa ended up putting Nayuta to bed.

“Denji comes late sometimes, he's fine,” she said, the dogs curling around her bedside as she drifted to sleep.

Asa sat back in the living room, engulfed in chilling silence. Turning the television on, the news flashed the latest devil attack. Chainsaw Man allegedly saved the day after killing the snake devil. 21 dead and 114 injured. Asa stilled. One of those numbers could be Denji. He could be a statistic right now, forgotten amidst the pandemonium. His palpable absence proved it all the more. How could she even explain this to Nayuta?

Why should you care?

A horrible feeling stirred in her chest, stinging her eyes. Over the frame of the television, crawling from the window, came a white cat. It climbed over furniture and loafed squarely on her lap. She remembered the same fur nuzzled between her arms in a haze amidst the devil attack that claimed her mother's life. The same fur kept her warm in that orphanage before drowning in the river across the street. In this apartment, it stayed nurtured and loved. She stroked its head with her index finger but it promptly jumped out and strutted elsewhere.

Asa buried her face in her hands. She knew Denji wanted nothing to do with her. And yet here she was, clinging onto the way his unspoken care had sunk into every corner of his home, absolutely beside herself with worry.

Asa felt like such a thief, hoarding the space somewhere she wasn't meant to be welcomed. She was pathetic, ready to do anything for a sliver of companionship, grieving what had no time to become.

Yoru sat by the windowsill, folding her arms.

The door creaked open, as if to answer the question: Denji. Standing outside, caked in blood and devil guts. His clothes were all torn, shirt haphazardly buttoned together.

He looked Asa up and down, “you're not Kishibe.”

“No shit,” she got to her feet, voice scarcely breaking.

“Y'don't understand,” his body swayed, eyes wandering, searching, “y'can't b'here, Nayuta-”

“I picked her up, she's sleeping.”

“Oh,” he visibly relaxed, slumping forward to rest his head on Asa's shoulder, “thanks.”

Every thought in her head vanished in an instant. His bloodied blonde hair stained her white uniform. It would take forever to rinse out the colour, and she couldn't care less.

“'m sorry,’ he said, “gimme a moment.”

“It's…it’s okay.”

He was here, he was safe, this was all that mattered for now.

“I brought the bandages you asked for,” Asa knocked on the bathroom door.

“Door's unlocked,” he said.

Denji sat over the closed toilet seat. He was in new clothes, though he still looked worse for wear. She placed the rolls over the sink. Her eyes trailed over the scars twisting over his arms and legs like vines; the deep wounds splitting apart dry skin.

She winced, “need help?”

He fumbled with his words, then the first aid kit, and everything fell to his feet. He bent down but stopped midway, clutching his side with a hiss.

Asa took the hint and picked it up herself. She worked quickly with the antiseptic, ointment coating harsh crimson lines. As her fingers brushed against his coarse and bumpy skin, she felt him stiffen. Hopefully she wasn't too rough, she only ever administered first aid on herself.

The light overhead casted shadows on his face, accentuating the bruises on his neck and jawline. Dark circles were etched under his eyes, his pupils fixed to the ground.

Asa tried not to think about that day he never showed; how she had waited by the school gates for hours watching her classmates leave in droves, and was embarrassingly stricken with envy. She tried not to think of Nayuta in the next room, her small form snuggled under a thick blanket.

The apartment was still, the only sounds being the hum of the heater and Nayuta's faint snores.

“Ya didn't hafta do all this,” he said.

“You didn't leave me much of a choice,” she said, her tone light and hands careful as she dabbed at a deeper gash on his elbow. His flinch wasn't from the alcohol, he shrank back like it was learned. There's probably a reason Denji didn't want to go to the hospital.

“Nayuta didn't...do anythin' to ya, right?” he said.

“What's that supposed to mean?” Asa scoffed as she wrapped the bandages on his arm, “she wanted me to get her ice cream but that's it.”

“Ya sure?”

Asa tightened the knot a little harder than she should have, “yeah, I took care of her.”

“Did'ya stay the whole time?” He said, “I know I called by accident 'n all but ya came and she was totally fine with that?”

Asa finished the last of his cuts, throwing a damp cloth over the sink.

“Obviously I stayed, I wouldn't leave a child alone like that. What's wrong with you?”

“Ya don't get it, she's-” he raised his voice but broke off, massaging his temples, “it's- I dunno, it's complicated, y'know?”

God, she wanted to scream. On top of these weird questions, he couldn't be bothered to give her a straight answer. She pushed the door open, anger seething from her fingertips.

“No, I don't know,” she said, walking to the living room, “you asked me to go on another date with you and you don't show. But now there's a devil attack and you could've died. I don't know what to think. And if you're not going to explain yourself, I'm done here.”

Asa shoved her things into her bag, paying no mind to Denji limping towards her. Today was a mistake. She never should have come. What did she even expect coming here? She was ready to leave until she felt him grab her wrist and almost jumped out of her skin. His grip was firm, but not enough to hurt.

“Wait,” he said, panting.

Asa froze, her heart thudding in her chest, “what?”

He hesitated, glancing down at her wrist. His face turned red as he immediately let go.

“Have ya eaten anythin' yet?”

Asa said nothing but her stomach betrayed her with a deep growl. Now it was her turn to blush. Denji smirked.

“I got some combini sandwiches in here, at least lemme feed ya,” he ambled to the fridge, “and we could talk, I guess.”

Asa begrudgingly put her bag down. Denji placed two egg sandwiches on the counter, his fatigue evident in his sluggish and heavy movements.

“I'll heat up your dinner,” she took his tupperware of leftovers, “You should sit.”

Denji sank in front of the dining table with a groan, shoulders drooping as if an invisible weight hung over him. Once everything was ready, Asa stood awkwardly for a moment before sitting beside him. He jerked upright and muttered a "thanks".

He held the chopsticks with trembling fingers, moving the rice around his plate. He looked to the hallway, where the door to Nayuta's bedroom was slightly ajar. The faint light from her room had a warm yellow glow against the walls.

“Nayuta ate,” Asa replied to his unspoken question.

“She finished all of it?”

“Yep,” she bit into the egg sandwich; it had a kick of wasabi that made her eyes water.

“Mm” he scraped patterns in his curry, “that's good.”

He mustered a few bites and paused, tapping his spoon against the plate. The faint clink filled the quiet until Asa cleared her throat.

“I wanna know,” she said, “why did you stand me up?”

“Right,” Denji blinked slowly, like her words were filtering through molasses, “I- things got messy. With Nayuta. Couldn't explain it back then so I kinda blew ya off, sorry.”

The answer was annoyingly vague, but it was better than nothing.

“You could've tried,” Asa said, her voice lacked the sharpness she expected herself to use, “but I'm starting to see why you didn't.”

He chewed on a small piece of burnt chicken as if it took more effort than it should, lowering his chopsticks. A sigh escaped him and he rubbed his face. Asa frowned.

“When's the last time you slept?” she said without thinking.

“Huh? Couple days ago, I think?” He said, “it's whatever, 'm used to it.”

“You can't do that to yourself,” she said, “it's not healthy.”

Denji shifted uncomfortably, his heavy-lidded eyes tracing the edge of the bandages she applied, “thought ya wouldn't care 'bout me this much after all that.”

“Thought so too.”

A creak in the floorboard made him straighten. His jaw clenched as he observed the hallway shadows, like he was catching some kind of movement.

“She's fine, you know that, right?” Asa said.

“She wakes up at night, sometimes,” he said, “and if I’m bein' honest with you, I don't want her to listen.”

Both of them waited for any other sounds. When the coast seemed to be clear, he scooched closer to Asa, keeping his voice low.

“Nayuta's a kid, but she's not just a kid,” he whispered, “she shouldn't hafta deal with this. I gotta make sure she turns out good or else bad stuff's gonna happen.”

“And my pets, I love 'em to death but they eat more than I do so I need the cash from my job. I'm bustin' my ass tryna look after everyone, and it's like,” he clutched his chest, feeling the bumpy space over his heart and sucked in a breath.

“I'm so tired all the time,” he laughed, but it was hollow.

Asa stared at the crumbs scattered on her plate, the sandwich settling uncomfortably like a pit in her stomach. When they were trapped in the aquarium on their first date, he said he always had a crappy life. She never wondered what exactly he meant. What could she possibly say to him? Yoru sat by the door, snoring. Asa’s main consolation was that Yoru couldn’t possess her body and do something stupid.  

“That’s a lot,” she said, “you’ve been through a lot.”

He shrugged, “it’s what I gotta do if I wanna be normal, I guess.”

“No, this isn’t normal,” Asa said, “Denji, you’re burnt out.”

“What’s that mean?” He said. Ugh, he was such an idiot.

“You’re exhausted from being spread too thin. You go to school, work part-time, raise your sister and take care of all your pets. You’re seconds away from keeling over,” she said, “promise me you will ask someone for help. Today, it might’ve been a devil attack, but you can’t guarantee something like this won’t happen again.”

His usually passive expression faltered. Asa cringed at herself, had she overstepped? His mouth hung open; an unguarded quiver in his lips. For a terrifying moment, Asa feared he was going to cry.

“Okay,” he finally said, “I promise.”

He wasn’t meeting her eyes anymore, prodding the rest of the rice left in front of him, scooping up smaller and smaller bites of his food, completing his meal like another chore.

“Can I ask ya to help?” He said, “with Nayuta?”

“...you should ask someone more qualified, like Kishibe?” She said, “weren't you going to call him instead of me today?”

“Yeah, he helps when he can,” Denji said, “but he's not the most reliable guy. And Nayuta, she doesn’t really like y- strangers, and if she was okay with ya today…”

She had every reason to refuse. He literally avoided her for a month, and his explanation hardly sufficed. She should say no, remind him they weren't anything to each other, not anymore. Nothing good would come from getting close again. But she stared at his pale face, his hair in disrepair. The alternative could be worse. She pressed her lips into a fine line.

“I’ll think about it,” Asa said, "you already have my number, anyway.”

When the plate was reasonably cleared, he set his spoon and chopsticks down with a click. He got to his feet, but legs wavered beneath him and his hand shot out to hold the table. Asa stood by his side, her arm easing him back to his chair. His sleepless nights were most likely catching up to him.

“Sit,” she said, “I’ll do the dishes.”

He didn’t argue, falling back heavily and pressing a palm to his forehead. Wordlessly, she brought everything to the sink, scrubbing the sponge against porcelain as softly as possible. The muted clatter of dishes and fragrant lavender soap filled the space between them. She turned back to check on him, watching as he was losing the battle to stay upright. His head lolled sideways. Letting the plates dry on the rack, she returned to find him succumbed to his drowsiness.

She nudged his side, careful not to touch any of his wounds, “hey, wake up, you can’t sleep here.”

It took a while for his body to react. He murmured weakly, trying to push himself off his chair, “what? Wha’s goin’ on?”

His voice was thick with sleep, and it made Asa squirm, seeing him even more out of it.

“You need to go to bed,” she said.

He sniffed, “Bed. Gotta get up.”

Not wanting a repeat of his near-collapse earlier, she held his arm gently to pull him up, “I’ve got you,”

She guided him down the hall, the shuffle of their footsteps dragging against the hardwood floor. His grip on her arm tensed every now and then as if he was going to lose his balance again. She pushed his bedroom door open wider, plopping him somewhat ungracefully onto the futon. He looked around blearily, half-aware of his surroundings.

Asa stood in the doorway for a moment, watching him, unsure of what to do next. She had to go home soon, school was in less than 5 hours.

“Here,” Denji reached for a pile of clothes in a nearby basket and pulled out a faded hoodie, “for the uh, blood ‘n stuff.”

He gestured awkwardly to Asa’s shirt, which had remnants of his blood stained on her shoulder.

“Not a great idea walkin’ home like that,” he smiled sheepishly.

It was oversized, worn at the cuffs, definitely not hers to take. But Denji yawned, already on the verge of sleep, acting like it was no big deal.

Asa hesitantly accepted the sweater, her fingers pinching the woollen fabric. There was a cinnamon scent to it, a soothing undertone of amber. Maybe she should ask where he got his detergent. Her clothes always smelled like ethanol; clean but artificial. He settled deeper into the futon as his breathing steadied.

“Get some rest, you idiot,” she said.

He nodded, eyes fluttering closed. She unconsciously pushed a few strands out of his hair. To make sure he was fine.

He honestly did look a little like Nayuta. Hair and eye colour aside, they shared the same pointy nose and shit-eating grin.

She examined his face closely, fingers lingering near his ear as she leaned forward to take in the curve of his cheek. There was a charming quality to his features, softened in sleep. Their noses were a breath away. Closing the distance would be too easy.

She immediately reeled back. A pulse of wrongness rang in the back of her mind, like the ghost of a memory that never happened. That should never happen.

The third house rule.

Colour drained from her face. What was she thinking? She twisted the draw strings of his sweater, taking several steps away from the bed. Her heartbeat thumped erratically, shrill against her eardrums. She had been here before, the feeling of wanting too much. Whatever she craved would be torn from her hands the moment she let herself reach for it.

She couldn't stay any longer. With one last glance at him- thankfully asleep, thankfully unaware- she turned and left the room.

Asa stepped into the night wearing Denji’s sweater over her shirt. The door clicked shut behind her, leaving the house with everything that happened on the other side.

Her thoughts kept circling back to his hazel eyes, chiselled jawline, lips slightly parted and she almost-

Her fingers dug into the hem of his sweater. The scent of sandalwood and honey subdued under the material, eerily familiar. She could have left the second Denji came in, dropped everything and walked away like she told herself she would after he stood her up. But she stayed. Dressed his wounds, cleaned up after dinner, helped him to bed. Not for Yoru's goal, Asa did this because she wanted to.

She shivered, not from the cold; something more bone-deep and mortifying.

The road ahead was dark and empty, streetlights barely illuminated the sidewalk. She let out a shaky breath. Her shoes felt heavy on the cobblestone. She refused to put a name to what she was feeling. But for the first time, she didn't want to keep running from it.