"Makima?" the voice of a man Nayuta didn't recognize talked first, sending a chilling shiver down her spine as the echoes of his disgraceful plea crept from beyond any dream or vision she could have.
"Makima!" Then Denji said, and she recognized that very well. Overly ecstatic, maybe even out of words, speaking mostly not by a sentence, but by the plethora of emotions his voice was able to convey.
"Makima." Indifferent, the voice of Power made itself present as a single remembrance. Like Denji, only her voice was able to demonstrate whatever it was she felt in that moment, although her emotions were far more easily to put together. A deep sense of bitter regret, fear, respect, and a slight hint of jealousy.
"Makima..." And finally, the voice of (Y/N) pronounced that same putrid name, and in no more than a whisper that is. It was far too complex for Nayuta to assimilate at first, but maybe the first glance into the remembrances of the broken mind of Denji made her a favor in demonstrating the way such scene came to happen in the first place. She saw, too, the image of Power being shattered in a hundred pieces, the killing intent behind the very own eyes of what she herself had been back then, and the hollow, almost teary eyes of (Y/N), staring back at her. "You betrayed me, Makima."
And just like that, her view shifted right into another memory.
"Good morning, Denji." The voice of a mature woman said right at his side. As he opened his eyes, only the yellow eyes of Makima stared back at him, and it was the very only thing he was able to focus on. Although his mind raced through hundreds of thoughts, something as subtle as the euphoric tingle of her breath touching his skin was enough to keep him at bay. "Did you sleep well?"
The immaculate white of Makima's apartment was deeply resented by his eyes, stinging by the drowsiness caused by his restless mind. "Yeah." He chose to lie. "Yeah, I slept well enough."
"Great." Makima was lying at his side, scurrying trying to fit herself into the not so comfortable couch of her living room. Although Denji was at her side, only a single person remained present in her dreams. "Not so bad." She said, her hand reaching of his cheek and caressing his skin in a tender manner. "Not so bad for a mere creation of mine."
"Am I really that pathetic?" Denji asked, still staring deep into her eyes. Infatuated by her touch, he almost absentmindedly crept closer to her, although Makima quickly backed up a bit.
"Have I ever told you...?" Makima completely ignored his question. Although somewhat counterintuitive judging by her previous actions, Denji didn't complain the moment he saw her get closer, and closer. Her lips, mere inches apart from his, were the only thing Denji cared about in that moment. "How much I've come to hate you?"
Sank deep beneath thousands of emotions, her words still cut as deep as a knife. "No, you haven't." the deplorable state of Denji was only able to muster in words, a voice as frail as the life he devoted to her.
"I hate you." Makima cupped Denji's face with both her hands, bringing him even a little closer. "From the very bottom of my heart, I hate you." Perhaps, thousands and thousands of things could've been said from that specific moment, and all of them would've been redundant enough to end up bringing the same topic, the same reaction, and the same pity, and still, Denji was only able to focus on a sole thing as he kept staring deep into Makima's eyes, and that was the single, lonely tear rolling down her eye as she stared back at him.
But he would never remember such a thing.
As Makima promptly realized her mistake, and said "You won't remember any of this." In a completely different tone from her usual self. And just like that, Denji forgot about it, and a single moment after that, a ringing bell on the entrance door snapped him back to reality.
Perhaps, Nayuta wouldn't be able to understand these memories all by herself, not without a context, not without something to guide her. She stared through countless and countless of scenes being replayed, over and over, making sense of a name that was entrusted by many to be forgotten, forging a reputation to that name, and encumbering her to bear that burden on her back for the days to come. And for the first time, a memory different from those she saw made itself present before her. Although never discovered by himself, Makima's hivemind had crept deep into his brain more than anyone ever imagined, and some of her memories had been left there too, in the mind of her servants, waiting to be discovered by those daring enough.
There were images, sentiments, voices, and the constant melody of the rain, ever present in the memories she held dear. Why did everything seem so shallow from the view of this strange, sad lady? She had everything she ever needed, an apartment of immaculate beauty and unpolluted bed sheets, why did she ever felt the need to do something like that?
The strange sound of her own laughter, sounding like an abhorrently out of tune instrument that had never been played correctly, stood out from the rest. Tarnished wings, both delicate and frail, perhaps had been too weary of the bright blue sky.
It was strange for Nayuta to be taken care of by Denji, wasn't it? In the couple of memories shown by her own self, only the image of (Y/N) remained ever present. Why was she, the current incarnation of the Control Devil, being taken care of by Denji, who Makima had hated so much?
Why wasn't she being taken care of by (Y/N), who Makima loved the most out of anything else in the world?
Did he not love her back?
"Nayuta." The voice of Power first called, such dirty tone still engraved in the back of her throat.
"Nayuta." Then Denji said, almost as a plea, and although his raspy voice seemed tired enough to not demonstrate any emotion, it did the complete opposite. Much like before, his voice seemed full of emotion, of sentiments completely different than the last time, although renewed of vigor and determination.
And as the voice of (Y/N) called her name with a simple "Nayuta." of completely indescribable meaning behind the tone of his voice, Nayuta woke up once again, only staring at the slumbering figure of Denji still sleeping before her. His face was a mess, actually, full of tears and a rather anticlimactic crying snot hanging from his cheek. Perhaps, the remembrance of her memories was not only something Nayuta could see, but rather, she was forcing Denji to dream about it, and relive those moments. She couldn't bear herself to look at him once again, and although she tried and tried to look back at her caretaker the way she had done before, the centered reminiscence of Makima's own hatred was still embedded deep beneath her soul whom they, unfortunately, shared.
Nayuta's hand reached into Denji's chest, and touched the cord protruding out of his skin with her bare fingers, almost an invitation to bring something back, something that had been righteously hers. She felt pity for such a living thing, so inferior, so subtle yet so easily manipulated, and a stinging though raced through her mind in that very moment. Did Denji take care of her, not because he loved her still, but because he was afraid she could end up like her old self?
Was her whole life planned this time? Just a convenience for her to not turn up like Makima, and none of them actually loved her?
As Nayuta closed her eyes, only that question remained still present on her mind. Even after hugging Denji, even after she fell asleep just like any other day of the week, even after reliving her own memories, over and over again, brought to her in countless dreams.
"I was planning for our weekend plan to go..." (Y/N) fought to find the right words. "Better than this." He finally opted to say. Longingly staring from the small balcony of his apartment, (Y/N) took a sip from his cup of tea as the rain kept pouring down and down, and the slow jazz playing on the rather broken radio of a neighbor was loud enough to be heard from his own living room, a rather discordant symphony combined with the gentle hum of the microwave in the kitchen.
"What do you mean?" Power asked as she scrambled on the sofa trying to find a comfortable position, although anxious the popcorn on the microwave was right about to be done. "This is perfect!" she said, and just then she bolted right across the room to reach for the kitchen as soon as a loud 'ding' could be heard from there.
"I wanted to take you out tonight, remember the restaurant Kobeni talked us about?" He said, turning back and taking a seat in the sofa too. "She said they didn't discriminate against fiends there."
"We can go there next weekend." Power reassured as she walked into the sofa once again, this time hugging a large bowl full of popcorn. She sat very close to (Y/N), resting her legs on his lap as she got herself comfortable once again, a wide smile displaying the fullness of her sharp teeth caught (Y/N) off guard. "We've been doing nothing but patrolling these days, I wanted to stay home for a couple of days actually."
"Oh." (Y/N) simply responded as a small smile made itself present on his lips, and he took a handful of popcorn. Meowy was swift to get pass them, walking on the sofa for a little bit and permitting herself to be petted a couple of times before getting back off and running into their bedroom. "We'll stay home then, the rain actually did us a favor."
"The devil that brought the rain here did us a favor."
"It's weird that Kishibe seemed to disappear completely since our last talk." (Y/N) noted, opting to talk about this subject first before putting the movie they were about to watch together. "It seemed all urgent, but we haven't heard from him since then."
"He must be drinking booze nonstop on a bar." Power said. "Those cunts from the Bureau probably didn't talk too much to him." Power's voice always became increasingly frustrated whenever she talked about Public Safety executives in any way or manner. "If I were to be prime minister, I would put their heads on a spike and display them in front of the Headquarters."
"I don't think the people would let you do that, Powy."
"And who's gonna oppose!?" She laughed loudly as her smile grew wider, getting inches closer to (Y/N)'s face. "I've got, right by my side, the most powerf-" She, for once, stopped dead on her tracks before finishing the sentence. "Oh right, you're just a human now, that does complicate things a little bit!"
"Oh, come on!" (Y/N) laughed too. "I know I'm just a normal dude now, but you don't have to remind me about that every five minutes!"
"I know, it's just weird, even after all these months where you've been constantly burning yourself with the kettle, not remembering you aren't able to check the temperature with your hand anymore."
"You know I'm not the sharpest tool on the shed."
"Of course I know that, you need of me, the great Power, just to survive!" Power said leaving the bowl of popcorn on the floor besides the sofa, and chuckling as she made herself look taller by kneeling on the sofa and sitting on top of (Y/N)'s lap. "Oh, you would be so helpless without me!"
As (Y/N) stared deep into Power's eyes and the lingering charm of her smile, he decided he would never let Power know that all of her seemingly joking self-worshipping sentences held absolute truth towards his heart.
"Oh, you're so full of yourself." (Y/N) softly said as a form of continuing the joke, caressing her long hair that reached just below her waist.
"I'm just stating the truth." Power's smug expression and the smile on her lips remained for a few seconds as she stared deep into (Y/N)'s eyes too. It was weird for them to have a moment like this anymore, not since he started having nightmares anymore and definitely not since they've joined Public Safety again. Power's eyes softened for a brief moment of understanding as (Y/N) stared intently, almost spellbound to all of her own self. "You miss her, right?"
"Nights sometimes feel colder than usual."
"That's because you had a literal fireball for a heart."
"I was just being romantic."
"She misses you a lot too."
"You're just plainly assuring it. How can you be so sure about that?"
"I would crumble completely if you were taken from my side."
"Oh..."
"I'm sure she feels the same way."
"That's the most romantic thing you've ever told me."
"I know, I'm trying to get better at that."
(Y/N) didn't knew how to respond after that, and just let her words settle for a brief moment before quickly closing the gap between their bodies, kissing her lips with a newfound passion they had been lacking since the beginning of all of this. Power wouldn't let herself not to keep up with this, and she quickly pinned (Y/N) down into the sofa below them, arching her back in such a way that brought their bodies not a single inch apart from each other.
Power's bare neck showed itself in all splendor, she was trying to bite (Y/N)'s neck in that moment and accidentally exposed herself in a way that made him absentmindedly sink his teeth in the upper layer of her skin, quickly getting her attention as a furious blush of deep crimson spread around her face. No words were exchanged however, as Power understood this perfectly from the very moment of his doing. Of course, (Y/N) was not part devil anymore, but something about the intimacy of such a primal way of touching made him excited to taste her blood once again, even if it didn't replenish him the way it did before, even if for the eyes of a sane person this would be nothing but a distasteful motif, but the glistening gold of Power's eyes and the gleam of her smile was far more captivating than any rational thought could ever make him even doubt about this.
(Y/N) took, gently, both of Power's wrists with his hands, caressing the cutting scar marks on her skin as he tried to get the upper hand on such a primal wrestle, but Power wouldn't let him have that now, and she pinned him down once again into the sofa as she made the exposure of her neck more evident, showing it off in front of him as the oversized tank top she was wearing made it easier for him to take glance into her bosom as well, forced to remember the way he drank her blood for the first time, a year ago.
Power had never been one to talk about her insecurities, not even in front of (Y/N). And that was what made (Y/N) so invested in her words the moment she said something along the lines of "Promise me something now." with a trembling voice of remarked frailness.
"Yes, I will." He said. "Talk now, I'm yours to listen, I'm yours to respond." Still deeply invested into the moment they were sharing, (Y/N)'s speech was far less formal than anyone else had been ever accustomed for him to talk.
"Promise me." The voice of Power, still intoxicated by the moment much like her partner, sounded raspy and much more akin to the devilish nature of her mannerisms and way of demonstrating. "You won't let me crumble apart." She said. "You won't butcher me whole, by leaving me alone." She buried her face deep into his neck as the tingling feeling of her exasperated breathing on his skin made (Y/N) shiver slightly. "Promise me to remain safe, promise me to let me love you."
"I promise you." (Y/N) responded first, grabbing ahold of Power's waist with both his hands. Power's enthusiastic tremble made her accidentally kick the bowl of popcorn on the floor as she was lifted a bit by his hands, bringing her neck closer into his lips. "I'll never leave you alone." He said. "For I would prefer to die rather than see you cry."
Power's fingernails sunk into his skin for a brief moment as he talked. "Good." Power said almost out of breath as she stared into his eyes for a few seconds, waiting for something else to happen, although it was made obvious that (Y/N) was waiting for a confirmation or an order before allowing himself to do what he wanted to do. "Now." She pronounced first as (Y/N)'s ecstatic eyes still stared at her. "Drink my blood."
To say (Y/N) was in love with Power would be a huge understatement, and that's something that was completely obvious to this point. But he had come to learn, with enough time, that there was no way of ever completely be able to fathom just how much he would've been able to do for her, and that's something he was still learning, day by day, minute by minute, every single time Power made something just as bland as yawning, as waking up in the morning right by his side, something as trivial as watching her eat some noodles, brush her hair, or watching the cold wind dancing on her long strawberry blonde hair as they walked to the Headquarters. He found himself, second by second, to be enamored by her in every single aspect of his life, and there was nothing he could ever do about it.
The scent of her blood, it was completely intoxicating for him, and her beauty was as transient as the rivers he had seen in Hell, of otherworldly flow, for a star could gleam bright thorough of all of the night sky and yet he would only be found himself infatuated by the beauty of the universe hiding behind the facade of her beautiful eyes. And for this moment of frailness of his own life, may God only know how long would it last, he decided to make of it nothing but full of her. Just like a river of blood, of transient beauty, of saving grace, of deeply unspoken secrets and through the fragility of both their own lives, of life eternal.
(Y/N) leaned in closer, and gently bit Power's neck.