[The next bar isn't open either but the owner meets him when he continues knocking on the door, blanching at his badge before he calms and recognizes Aki isn't here to do some kind of sweep for a devil or an investigation into an attack. He goes back with a promise to check, then returns a few minutes later with a jacket that reeks of cigarette smoke and booze. Aki fingers through the pockets and, lo and behold...]
The hell was it? Doesn't it matter if you're bringing it to me. So be a good boy and bring it back to me. And then together, we will come up with cat names. Your lack of confidence is noted.
[ maybe he's sobered up a bit in the time aki played fetch. ]
There are too many bars near the office they keep popping up. You're keeping the liquor economy afloat.
[But, well, whatever. Once he finally kicks the bucket, everyone will be in mouring about it and will go back to them all anyway. So even then, they'll keep existing. Devil hunters love to drink.]
[He doesn't show up for about half an hour because he has to pick up the other important things: a bottle of seltzer, painkillers, a box of cold compresses, and a fresh razor. Maybe he'll take the hint and finally get his beard under control. He bangs his fist on the door, not at all considering being kind about this due to his hangover and keeping it down. Knowing his oh-so-beloved master, he's probably passed out again and he's going to have to find the extra key.]
[ he may as well be. he can count off the top of his head at least four bar owners whose name he knows. well, one now, because the other three got killed by random assaults. imagine that: not killed by devils, but random street crimes. kishibe's too fucked up in the head to figure what is worse, frankly. maybe he'd just prefer alcohol poisoning. seems nice, all things considered.
anyway, kishibe won't pay any mind to the banging on his door. he's half-asleep, daydreaming on that damn furry creature he'll never get. aki is right, he'll never retire, but let an old man daydream once in a while. reminisce over a dream when dreams were something you can write down on paper and achieve in a lifetime. these days, even surviving and running a business is impossible. there his mind goes again, not boozed up enough to keep his thoughts straight. ah, cure a hangover with booze, that's his philosophy, so he opens his flask and tries to drown the last of his thoughts about those damn bars and owners and mortality, just as aki opens the door with the key he eventually finds.
habits die hard. he throws a knife right at aki's head. well, his head is killing him, so maybe his aim's a little off. who knows; if it does knick aki for whatever reason, maybe it's proof enough that aki doesn't need to aid him at all. tough call to make when his eyes are closed. ]
[Right when he's finally got the door open and has assumed the old man is passed out on his couch a knife is flying at him. It's really only thanks to how often this has happened in even less-expected moments that Aki has any instinct to duck, quickly dodging out of the way of the projectile as it thuds blade-first into the open door. He raises up slowly, giving Kishibe a cold look, then carefully removes the knife from the door before closing it.]
You didn't hear me banging for five straight minutes...? [Ugh, whatever. He pushes his shoes off and sets the bag down on the nearest table before bringing the knife to the kitchen sink - he has no desire to return it to someone who's probably more drunk than hungover this early in the morning.] You can't take these painkillers if you're still drinking, so put it away for now. Look - I even got you some seltzer. You can just pretend it's beer.
Too comfy in my chair. You knew where the spare was.
[ evidently. so he managed to dodge. good kid, sharp kid. still normal, the most sane one to have lived this long. he'd clap if his hand wasn't already holding a flask. aki can probably see on his door that the bite of the knife is one of hundreds of other times the knife has pierced it. ]
Didn't get the memo. [ about the pills and liquor. someone's probably told him that before; it was even aki or himeno. ah, well - he waves at aki dismissively as the young man approaches. ]
S'it your day off? Nothing better to do? This hangover's nothing, kid. Worry 'bout those lil dogs you have at your place.
[Aki doesn't respond to any of that, crossing the room to put Kishibe's jacket on the hook near the door. It might be disturbing how he knows where everything goes here as easily as he does his own place, but even though his master tells him to leave him be all the time, Aki can't quite make himself do it. Maybe he pities him, maybe he's lonely. Well, not so much the latter anymore. Not really, at least.]
[Crossing the room, he holds his hand out, expectant. Waiting for the remainder of his alcohol to be surrendered.]
It's Sunday, Master. [In case he forgot.] They're housebroken, I can leave them alone. ...You'd probably like owning a dog more than a cat, you know. [Maybe he can distract him from drinking by reminding him about this weird pet thing he's been on about all morning.]
[ he doesn't even spare aki a glance. knows exactly what kinda face he's making, what his hand is expecting. he empties the flask in a swig and hands the container to aki. since he's so eager. ]
Anyone ever tell'ya you're more like... uh, a nagging housewife?
[ since he can't drink, he'll just pull out a pack of cigarettes. and because aki was such a good boy, extends his hand in offering. himeno's gotten him into this nasty habit, and she's right for it. but when he told her to make sure he's got some screws loose, he'd hoped it was something more drastic than picking up smoking. well, still time, he supposes. hopes. more for himeno than his sake, if he's being completely honest. ]
Dogs. [ he huffs- a rough, but eerily mirthful sound. he flicks his cig to catch the tip with fire and inhales. leans to let aki join. ] Haven't met a dog I don't wanna break to make sure it'll put itself back together n' stand up again. No, cats- I like cats. They run away at the whiff of danger.
[...Well, even if it's now empty, at least this means he won't be refilling it any time soon. Aki takes the flask with a sour look all the same; The comment about his domesticity earns a sigh even as he accepts the cigarette.]
Yeah, I've heard it. [Especially the "wife" or "mother" comments but he doesn't want to give Kishibe more fuel.] But don't act like senpai isn't the same way with you. Hell, she's the one who told me she was worried.
[That apparently she'd heard someone say they saw Kishibe leaving a bar without his jacket, then went on and on about how Aki is a better hangover caretaker than she is, and he finally gave in and agreed to solve the problem of Kishibe for the morning. He leans down to accept the light.]
...To be honest, I never understood how she survived in that devil's stomach. Or somehow got Power to like her enough not to eat her. [He takes a puff on his cigarette, actually consdering that.] But she can't exactly defend herself. Worst she'll do is yowl, she doesn't even scratch or hiss. I think that's more important than running away.
Women, [ comes the needless scoff. He knows gender has nothing to do why Himeno worries. Kishibe thinks it's among his personal flaws as a trainer of dogs that still don't live long enough: he can be cutthroat, he can be brutal, let his reputation carry the sign of the 'good times' to come in his months of training. No matter what he does, he can't beat the worry out of these damn dogs.
He looks at these pitiful dogs and finds them too normal. Maybe Kishibe'd be sad if he had the capacity to feel much of it anymore - just the phantom of it, the way an absence of something makes you feel it harder or some shit.
Aki takes his light. His eyes burn holes into the young man's profile. Fox Devil contract - that picky sonofabitch only accepts contracts with, in its own words, pretty humans. It's right about this kid, but the job will sooner or later take that from him, too. For now, Kishibe doesn't feel bad feasting on what his alcohol-addled brain could consider eye-candy.
He takes a long drag of his cigarette, watching. ]
Devil digestion is accelerated by fear. [ So to speak. So her calm helped, probably.
He casts his gaze elsewhere. ]
The Izakaya down the street's... havin' a thing. [ It's the one they'd gone to, once. One of many drunken nights that wound up with Kishibe passed out, but from what he recalls, Aki and Himeno had a lovely conversation with the bar owner while he his face was buried into his arms. Anyway, the man's dead. ] A send-off. Should come later, you n' Himeno.
[If "women" had anything to do with it, then Aki wouldn't be in the same boat as Himeno. But maybe that could be blamed on the effect she has on him, the needling and worrying. ...But then again, if that had any effect on him, he wouldn't be in Public Safety to begin with.]
[And as Kishibe watches him, Aki watches back. In contrast to his own supposed attractiveness, all Aki can believe is that, at some point, Kishibe was probably attractive. Now, he reeks of beer, cigarette smoke, and sweat. His beard is a little scruffy, definitely not soft and probably won't get shaved for another hour. His hair is thin and his face droops with age. But he's not hard on the eyes. Not really. Aki takes a drag, himself, as he tells him about the izakaya.]
A send-off? [He repeats it, not incredulous or overly soft. Just repeating. He leans against the arm of the sofa beside him, still staring across at Kishibe.] I'm sure she'll be happy to go. [Himeno, that is. But as for him...] I shoudn't leave those two alone at night. So... send my regards.
[There's a touch of bitterness in his voice, that he's now bound by two troublemaker devils that decide his schedule. Even this, right now, is pushing it, but he has to see if they'll behave with certain unaccompanied time... would be his excuse. In truth, he misses the time where he could do things like this, anyway. See off an izakaya owner who gave them a free order of edamame while Himeno dug through Kishibe's coat for his keys, coming up empty every pocket she checked.]
[ Beer, cigarette smoke, sweat, and misery, really. All of it an intoxicating concoction that somehow fuels rot in his bones and stirs Kishibe out of bed. Aki might wonder if he was once handsome, and the truth is, Kishibe wouldn't be able to recall much of his personal self. Rarely recognizes the man he sees in the mirror when he has to haphazardly shave his stubble or keep his teeth from rotting. He thinks, that's probably done by design; it's your own humanity's last stand against the things you sell for Devil contracts. After all, you can't mourn for things you can't remember.
That's why you hold onto things that are alive. Hold onto it like hell, even when it hurts, breaks skin, and draws blood, until it's gone and you're left with just the friction burns in your palms. Or a scar against the side of your mouth— or, hah, a chip in the steel of your beloved knife.
So forgive Kishibe for not buying the shitty excuse. His brow quirks. ] You'll set those pups on an early bedtime. [ Back in his day, you put alcohol in juice boxes and hope they knock out early. ] And you'll come out. Late if you have to. You owe them that, kid.
[Does he seriously think Aki can just put them in bed and that they'll fall asleep? That he can have them run around all afternoon until they're drowsy, feed them soup and bread for dinner to get them sleepy, and then expect them to...]
[...Actually, that might work. Aki seems to consider it, looking around for an ashtray before locating it so he can discard some ash into it. Even if his floor is a mess of the stuff, Aki, himself, isn't an animal.]
I can try, but I won't make any promises. They only listen to me when they feel like it.
[Still. He tilts his head at him, offering the ashtray out.]
Usually you get on me for being sentimental. [So this attitude is a little unusual to see so blatantly displayed. It's not that Aki doesn't know he mourns in his own way for people.]
If I went to the funerals for every owner of every izakaya we go to, I'd be busy every weekend.
[ Mind you: Kishibe has quite the skewed perspective of how to put a couple pups to bed early. Aki wasn't there when he trained the two of them; if asked, he could come up with more than a few violent ways to 'tuck them in,' so to speak. But again, it's a matter of...perspectives.
Kishibe scratches his stubble still holding the cigarette. The jostle makes the tip spill over the jacket he slept in, and he moves to tap the rest of the hanging ash too into the tray. Whatever. That's about the kind of response he gives to the comment about getting sentimental: a mumbled growl. It's not about sentimental— ] 'Sbout decency.
[ He's thinking, though, about how he wants another drink. His gaze flickers lazily over to the sink. ] And it's not a funeral. Just drinks n' small talk, I reckon.
When's the last time you came out with me, anyway. [ He kills the last of his cigarette, and puts the ashes into the tray, his empty gaze bearing into Aki's face again. ] You're breakin' my heart, kid.
[Decency... Given the lack of change in his expression, it's clear Aki doesn't believe him. Doesn't really trust that's the whole reason. But whatever - It doesn't matter. He sees the way his eyes travel behind him and over to the sink, knows what's over there, what's under there. Conscious of it, he slides himself into his eyesight, holding onto the ashtray.]
When I drink with you, I get too drunk to make it home. [It's not quite that Aki is the kind of person to try and outdrink someone apropos of nothing, but he's the kind of person who moves with the tide. Being surrounded by two alcoholics, however, has him feeling more like he's being dragged out by a rip current.] And then I end up at one of your places, and if it's near here...
[It'll be Kishibe's. And given that his expression still hasn't changed, maybe he's thinking of it and maybe he's not: how he tends to wake up in his bed the morning after, nude and covered in bruises. He takes a drag, staring him down.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
for @stillsharp
[Continued from here]
[The next bar isn't open either but the owner meets him when he continues knocking on the door, blanching at his badge before he calms and recognizes Aki isn't here to do some kind of sweep for a devil or an investigation into an attack. He goes back with a promise to check, then returns a few minutes later with a jacket that reeks of cigarette smoke and booze. Aki fingers through the pockets and, lo and behold...]
Found it
You left your coat too
This is why you shouldn't drink alone you know
no subject
So be a good boy and bring it back to me.
And then together, we will come up with cat names.
Your lack of confidence is noted.
[ maybe he's sobered up a bit in the time aki played fetch. ]
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There are too many bars near the office they keep popping up. You're keeping the liquor economy afloat.
[But, well, whatever. Once he finally kicks the bucket, everyone will be in mouring about it and will go back to them all anyway. So even then, they'll keep existing. Devil hunters love to drink.]
[He doesn't show up for about half an hour because he has to pick up the other important things: a bottle of seltzer, painkillers, a box of cold compresses, and a fresh razor. Maybe he'll take the hint and finally get his beard under control. He bangs his fist on the door, not at all considering being kind about this due to his hangover and keeping it down. Knowing his oh-so-beloved master, he's probably passed out again and he's going to have to find the extra key.]
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anyway, kishibe won't pay any mind to the banging on his door. he's half-asleep, daydreaming on that damn furry creature he'll never get. aki is right, he'll never retire, but let an old man daydream once in a while. reminisce over a dream when dreams were something you can write down on paper and achieve in a lifetime. these days, even surviving and running a business is impossible. there his mind goes again, not boozed up enough to keep his thoughts straight. ah, cure a hangover with booze, that's his philosophy, so he opens his flask and tries to drown the last of his thoughts about those damn bars and owners and mortality, just as aki opens the door with the key he eventually finds.
habits die hard. he throws a knife right at aki's head. well, his head is killing him, so maybe his aim's a little off. who knows; if it does knick aki for whatever reason, maybe it's proof enough that aki doesn't need to aid him at all. tough call to make when his eyes are closed. ]
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[Right when he's finally got the door open and has assumed the old man is passed out on his couch a knife is flying at him. It's really only thanks to how often this has happened in even less-expected moments that Aki has any instinct to duck, quickly dodging out of the way of the projectile as it thuds blade-first into the open door. He raises up slowly, giving Kishibe a cold look, then carefully removes the knife from the door before closing it.]
You didn't hear me banging for five straight minutes...? [Ugh, whatever. He pushes his shoes off and sets the bag down on the nearest table before bringing the knife to the kitchen sink - he has no desire to return it to someone who's probably more drunk than hungover this early in the morning.] You can't take these painkillers if you're still drinking, so put it away for now. Look - I even got you some seltzer. You can just pretend it's beer.
[Like that'll work.]
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[ evidently. so he managed to dodge. good kid, sharp kid. still normal, the most sane one to have lived this long. he'd clap if his hand wasn't already holding a flask. aki can probably see on his door that the bite of the knife is one of hundreds of other times the knife has pierced it. ]
Didn't get the memo. [ about the pills and liquor. someone's probably told him that before; it was even aki or himeno. ah, well - he waves at aki dismissively as the young man approaches. ]
S'it your day off? Nothing better to do? This hangover's nothing, kid. Worry 'bout those lil dogs you have at your place.
no subject
[Aki doesn't respond to any of that, crossing the room to put Kishibe's jacket on the hook near the door. It might be disturbing how he knows where everything goes here as easily as he does his own place, but even though his master tells him to leave him be all the time, Aki can't quite make himself do it. Maybe he pities him, maybe he's lonely. Well, not so much the latter anymore. Not really, at least.]
[Crossing the room, he holds his hand out, expectant. Waiting for the remainder of his alcohol to be surrendered.]
It's Sunday, Master. [In case he forgot.] They're housebroken, I can leave them alone. ...You'd probably like owning a dog more than a cat, you know. [Maybe he can distract him from drinking by reminding him about this weird pet thing he's been on about all morning.]
no subject
Anyone ever tell'ya you're more like... uh, a nagging housewife?
[ since he can't drink, he'll just pull out a pack of cigarettes. and because aki was such a good boy, extends his hand in offering. himeno's gotten him into this nasty habit, and she's right for it. but when he told her to make sure he's got some screws loose, he'd hoped it was something more drastic than picking up smoking. well, still time, he supposes. hopes. more for himeno than his sake, if he's being completely honest. ]
Dogs. [ he huffs- a rough, but eerily mirthful sound. he flicks his cig to catch the tip with fire and inhales. leans to let aki join. ] Haven't met a dog I don't wanna break to make sure it'll put itself back together n' stand up again. No, cats- I like cats. They run away at the whiff of danger.
[ he pauses, then adds: ] Meowy's a survivor.
no subject
[...Well, even if it's now empty, at least this means he won't be refilling it any time soon. Aki takes the flask with a sour look all the same; The comment about his domesticity earns a sigh even as he accepts the cigarette.]
Yeah, I've heard it. [Especially the "wife" or "mother" comments but he doesn't want to give Kishibe more fuel.] But don't act like senpai isn't the same way with you. Hell, she's the one who told me she was worried.
[That apparently she'd heard someone say they saw Kishibe leaving a bar without his jacket, then went on and on about how Aki is a better hangover caretaker than she is, and he finally gave in and agreed to solve the problem of Kishibe for the morning. He leans down to accept the light.]
...To be honest, I never understood how she survived in that devil's stomach. Or somehow got Power to like her enough not to eat her. [He takes a puff on his cigarette, actually consdering that.] But she can't exactly defend herself. Worst she'll do is yowl, she doesn't even scratch or hiss. I think that's more important than running away.
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He looks at these pitiful dogs and finds them too normal. Maybe Kishibe'd be sad if he had the capacity to feel much of it anymore - just the phantom of it, the way an absence of something makes you feel it harder or some shit.
Aki takes his light. His eyes burn holes into the young man's profile. Fox Devil contract - that picky sonofabitch only accepts contracts with, in its own words, pretty humans. It's right about this kid, but the job will sooner or later take that from him, too. For now, Kishibe doesn't feel bad feasting on what his alcohol-addled brain could consider eye-candy.
He takes a long drag of his cigarette, watching. ]
Devil digestion is accelerated by fear. [ So to speak. So her calm helped, probably.
He casts his gaze elsewhere. ]
The Izakaya down the street's... havin' a thing. [ It's the one they'd gone to, once. One of many drunken nights that wound up with Kishibe passed out, but from what he recalls, Aki and Himeno had a lovely conversation with the bar owner while he his face was buried into his arms. Anyway, the man's dead. ] A send-off. Should come later, you n' Himeno.
no subject
[If "women" had anything to do with it, then Aki wouldn't be in the same boat as Himeno. But maybe that could be blamed on the effect she has on him, the needling and worrying. ...But then again, if that had any effect on him, he wouldn't be in Public Safety to begin with.]
[And as Kishibe watches him, Aki watches back. In contrast to his own supposed attractiveness, all Aki can believe is that, at some point, Kishibe was probably attractive. Now, he reeks of beer, cigarette smoke, and sweat. His beard is a little scruffy, definitely not soft and probably won't get shaved for another hour. His hair is thin and his face droops with age. But he's not hard on the eyes. Not really. Aki takes a drag, himself, as he tells him about the izakaya.]
A send-off? [He repeats it, not incredulous or overly soft. Just repeating. He leans against the arm of the sofa beside him, still staring across at Kishibe.] I'm sure she'll be happy to go. [Himeno, that is. But as for him...] I shoudn't leave those two alone at night. So... send my regards.
[There's a touch of bitterness in his voice, that he's now bound by two troublemaker devils that decide his schedule. Even this, right now, is pushing it, but he has to see if they'll behave with certain unaccompanied time... would be his excuse. In truth, he misses the time where he could do things like this, anyway. See off an izakaya owner who gave them a free order of edamame while Himeno dug through Kishibe's coat for his keys, coming up empty every pocket she checked.]
no subject
That's why you hold onto things that are alive. Hold onto it like hell, even when it hurts, breaks skin, and draws blood, until it's gone and you're left with just the friction burns in your palms. Or a scar against the side of your mouth— or, hah, a chip in the steel of your beloved knife.
So forgive Kishibe for not buying the shitty excuse. His brow quirks. ] You'll set those pups on an early bedtime. [ Back in his day, you put alcohol in juice boxes and hope they knock out early. ] And you'll come out. Late if you have to. You owe them that, kid.
no subject
[Does he seriously think Aki can just put them in bed and that they'll fall asleep? That he can have them run around all afternoon until they're drowsy, feed them soup and bread for dinner to get them sleepy, and then expect them to...]
[...Actually, that might work. Aki seems to consider it, looking around for an ashtray before locating it so he can discard some ash into it. Even if his floor is a mess of the stuff, Aki, himself, isn't an animal.]
I can try, but I won't make any promises. They only listen to me when they feel like it.
[Still. He tilts his head at him, offering the ashtray out.]
Usually you get on me for being sentimental. [So this attitude is a little unusual to see so blatantly displayed. It's not that Aki doesn't know he mourns in his own way for people.]
If I went to the funerals for every owner of every izakaya we go to, I'd be busy every weekend.
no subject
Kishibe scratches his stubble still holding the cigarette. The jostle makes the tip spill over the jacket he slept in, and he moves to tap the rest of the hanging ash too into the tray. Whatever. That's about the kind of response he gives to the comment about getting sentimental: a mumbled growl. It's not about sentimental— ] 'Sbout decency.
[ He's thinking, though, about how he wants another drink. His gaze flickers lazily over to the sink. ] And it's not a funeral. Just drinks n' small talk, I reckon.
When's the last time you came out with me, anyway. [ He kills the last of his cigarette, and puts the ashes into the tray, his empty gaze bearing into Aki's face again. ] You're breakin' my heart, kid.
no subject
[Decency... Given the lack of change in his expression, it's clear Aki doesn't believe him. Doesn't really trust that's the whole reason. But whatever - It doesn't matter. He sees the way his eyes travel behind him and over to the sink, knows what's over there, what's under there. Conscious of it, he slides himself into his eyesight, holding onto the ashtray.]
When I drink with you, I get too drunk to make it home. [It's not quite that Aki is the kind of person to try and outdrink someone apropos of nothing, but he's the kind of person who moves with the tide. Being surrounded by two alcoholics, however, has him feeling more like he's being dragged out by a rip current.] And then I end up at one of your places, and if it's near here...
[It'll be Kishibe's. And given that his expression still hasn't changed, maybe he's thinking of it and maybe he's not: how he tends to wake up in his bed the morning after, nude and covered in bruises. He takes a drag, staring him down.]