Chapter Text
As soon as he got his tie on, Aki was all business. Angel tried to convince him to go over their respective evenings in the hotel room, but he refused.
“We need to get going; we’ll talk at the office,” he said. “I don’t want to get in trouble. And someone should check you out — a medic, or something.”
“I don’t think this is a problem for a medic,” Angel said, sulkily opening the hotel room door. He waved Aki out, then followed, door clicking shut behind them. “If it even is a problem.”
“It’s very odd, Angel. You’ve been in this form for what, thirty years? And you’re suddenly safe to touch? I’m not complaining, but you know that’s fucking weird.” Aki practically ran down the stairs. Aki hated being late, and now Angel would have to suffer a sweaty, frantic power walk over to the metro station. Angel decided he should buy himself a little cart — Angel could sit in it, and Aki could drag it around. He had a fuzzy, island memory of being carried around in a litter made of some old, desecrated Mikoshi — deconstructed and reassembled to make space for Angel to recline, to be displayed as his devotees moved him around the island.
These days, Angel would be lucky to even get a piggyback. Maybe Aki would give him one, if he asked nicely.
The power walk to the station sucked, but it was relatively short, at least. Angel tugged pathetically at Aki’s sleeve when he spotted the sign for his newly beloved American coffee chain, right by the entrance to the metro.
“Can we please stop for coffee, at least?” he asked. Aki looked pained, facing Angel’s most tragic pout.
“But Kishibe said-”
“I don’t care what he said,” Angel snapped — more at Kishibe than Aki. “We’re pulling a thirty-six-hour shift, here. So we get to the office at ten and not 9:45, boohoo.”
“You were on the clock this morning, huh?” Aki asked. He waved Angel over to the coffee shop, permissive, but still checking his watch nervously.
“Have to get paid to be on the clock,” Angel reminded him. They made their way to the coffee shop. “You make half as much as Kishibe. Fuck him, get a coffee.”
Aki conceded — that was fair enough. They joined the line at the coffee shop, talking in hushed tones, smiling at one another.
“You seem pretty perky this morning,” Aki said. Angel shrugged.
“Honestly, this is the best I’ve felt in years,” he said. “I’m not exaggerating. Since I was brought to Tokyo, I’ve felt low and tired — no matter how much I slept or ate, I always felt like shit. But today…” Angel felt fresh, bright. Like he’d had the best night’s sleep of his life, like he’d been drinking non-smoker, non-drinker, no-vitamin-deficiency blood for weeks. “Maybe it’s you,” Angel said. “Maybe you fixed me.”
“Yeah, sure. It’s my magic dick,” said Aki, flatly. “Nothing to do with any of the shit that’s been going on.”
They got to the front of the line quickly. Angel didn’t pay much attention to the barista, attention turned to the pastries. He’d opened his mouth to order before realising the woman was shaking, almost in tears.
“T-take whatever you want, just don’t hurt me,” she said. Aki pulled out his ID.
“Ma’am, we’re with Public Safety,” he said. The barista looked even more terrified.
“H-he’s w-with…” She swallowed, fat tears spilling from her eyes. She pointed at the television mounted to the wall behind them. “But, it’s… It’s all over the news,” she said.
The TV showed grainy footage of a police line, cops and devil hunters surrounding a fresh crime scene. The scene was captioned: ANGEL OR DEVIL? TWO MORE BODIES FOUND IN KABUKICHO.
Two bodies — that second one must’ve been Aki’s victim from the church meeting.
“Oh — I understand the confusion. That was a different type of Angel Devil. He didn’t do that,” Aki said. Still, Angel felt a little weird making this terrified, quivering mess serve him a Frappuccino.
“We’ll just leave. It’s fine,” Angel said, adding a quick “Sorry” as they left. They hustled out of the coffee shop into the subway station — agreeing it’d be best to get Angel to HQ as soon as possible.
The other metro passengers gave them a wide berth on the platform and on the train. The rush hour crowd had thinned dramatically now — but passengers opted to cram into carriages either side of Aki and Angel, leaving them completely alone.
“Maybe we should compare notes now,” Aki said. “What the fuck happened to you last night?”
Angel gave him the short version. Priest died, weird guy had his eyes burned out, pulsing golden lights, got skewered.
“Didn’t that hurt?” Aki asked. “Did… I mean, you didn’t have a mark on you this morning.”
“It was one of my weapons,” Angel reminded Aki.
“So it just… Caught it and threw it back?” He asked. Angel nodded. Aki snorted. “Sorry. Sorry, that’s just…” he laughed. “That’s kind of slapstick — don’t you think?”
“I was too busy being in horrible pain to appreciate the humour of the situation,” Angel said, dryly. “So how was your evening? All we managed to get out of you was garbled shit about a murder and mushrooms.”
Aki ran through his evening after separating from Angel. He’d contacted Ruby, one of the Last Church girls and an ex-employee of Fantasy Island. A little too co-incidental for Angel’s liking but hey, if she hung around outside all the time, it’d make sense that one of the victims would be a regular patron.
Aki ran through Ruby’s backstory, their journey to the meeting and the women she worked with. There was a man named Shiro hosting the evening, who had everyone drink mushroom tea before leading a confessional ritual which culminated in a human sacrifice.
“Weren’t you worried they’d pick you?” Angel said. “To sacrifice?”
“No. Mostly because of the drugs but I’m also really dull, it turns out? I didn’t really have the faculties to lie, and I couldn’t really think of anything that bad that I’d done. Not like the guy their angel killed, anyway. He smothered his own mother,” Aki said. Angel chose not to dig down too much into the fact that Aki had struggled to think of a single real sin he’d committed. “Just, doubling back a little — you said the angel you saw was too bright to see?” Aki asked. Angel nodded. “I could see it really clearly.” Aki described it. It sounded grotesque — but very humanoid, which surprised Angel. “Fuck, I hope there aren’t two. I wonder if it was just… tired after its little performance at the catholic mission when I saw it.”
“Entirely possible. You ever seen what happens if I make like… More than eight weapons in a day?” Angel asked. Aki shook his head. “They come out ugly, then rusty — once I had a sword come out floppy. Totally limp.” He let Aki carry on recounting the story. They both noted that the Last Church switched out the lights before the other angel appeared.
“Killed the lights, and then there was a rumble and a flash, like the one you saw. Sounds like it was nowhere near as bright or loud though.” Aki frowned. He was thinking aloud, now, mumbling. “And they all put on robes that obscured their faces before it happened,” he said. He stopped talking for a moment. The train stopped and moved on before he spoke again. “I think it’s a hybrid. The other Angel, I mean.”
“What makes you say that?”
“With the robes on, no one knows who’s missing from the group. Killing the lights, too. It’s a distraction, so the hybrid can transform without… Without the common rank and file knowing they’re not dealing with a genuine Angel but… A devil hybrid, like the Chainsaw Man.”
Angel thought it through. It was a very powerful hybrid if that was the case, but the theory didn’t seem entirely unreasonable. Aki said the Angel looked humanoid — there are more humanoid depictions of highly ranked angels, but traditionally they’re pretty strange and abstract… It made sense that the creature would be a hybrid and not a straight up seraph devil or cherub devil.
Aki described it more – it’s six wings, the wings covering the eyes. It sounded like a seraph.
“What’s that?”
“It’s the highest ranked angel — in Christian Angelology, any way,” Angel said. Aki made a face.
“I mean… It didn’t seem that much more powerful than you. To me, any way. Maybe I’m wrong. I saw it drain the victim’s life, but it seemed like it could turn it on and off. It held him for ages before he started… Reacting,” Aki said.
“Interesting,” Angel said.
Aki picked up a newspaper which was folded neatly on the seat beside them. The front page read: TWO DEAD IN KABUKICHO IN POSSIBLE DEVIL ATTACK. Aki read aloud:
Two more bodies were discovered in Tokyo’s Kabukicho district last night and early this morning, with an angel claiming responsibility. Serial killer or Devil… Or something else entirely? We can confirm that Public Safety are involved and investigating the case — though the agency have declined to comment. Eye-witnesses saw a glowing, winged figure leaving the scene of the murder — before engaging a public safety devil hunter in combat.
“Eye witness accounts are here uh…” Aki cleared his throat. “We saw a big bright gold shape come out the catholic mission, it had like ten wings — it was hard to see. And in my head I could hear an English word — holy — over and over. So I just ran. Did you hear that? Holy?”
“No, it spoke directly to me,” Angel said.
“It spoke to me, too. Sort of.” Aki read the article in silence for a moment. “Oh, hey, Angel — this one is about you: It was definitely an angel. I saw it fighting a person in an angel costume — wings and a halo. I think it killed that person? But I couldn’t say. It was like staring at the sun. After it fought the other Angel — I just knew it was an angel — it kind of just… zipped away. Creepy.”
*
When they arrived at the office, Kishibe was hanging around at the reception desk to collect them. He looked like he hadn’t slept. He gave Angel a double-take, even stopping to rub his eyes.
“You appear to be… Glowing, slightly,” he said. Angel frowned, looking at his own hands. He didn’t notice any glow — but Aki clapped beside him.
“I knew it wasn’t just me!” he said. “You are glowing!”
“I can’t see it,” Angel said. Kishibe shrugged.
“I guess everyone’s scared of Angels now. You’re benefitting, getting all charged up on fear,” Kishibe said, casually. And that made sense. “The same things happens to Needle, sometimes — you’ll see it, Aki, the next time there’s a big round of vaccinations in schools. She gets bigger. Pointier. Comes up with some weirder, more potent shit to inject you with,” Kishibe said. Angel made a face.
“She… Injects you?”
“Don’t worry about it,” Kishibe and Aki said simultaneously. Aki changed the subject back to Angel.
“There’s more. Angel’s not draining lifespans anymore, look.” Aki grabbed Angel’s hand, lifting it up like Angel had won a boxing match. Kishibe looked like he’d heard a loud, sudden noise.
“Don’t do that so suddenly. My fucking blood pressure,” he said, lighting a cigarette. Aki let go of Angel’s hand, a little slowly and reluctantly. Kishibe shook his head. “So that’s why you were late, you were fucking around with Angel’s powers?” He asked. Then Kishibe seemed to clock their damp hair — perhaps he tuned into a general air of smug satisfaction between the two of them. He narrowed his eyes. “Oh my God,” he muttered.
“What?” Aki snapped.
“Nothing. Assholes are lucky I don’t care enough to report you,” he said. Aki, now red in the face tried a weak report us for what? but Kishibe didn’t even dignify it with a response.
Kishibe asked them to follow him somewhere less public — they’d already spoken about too many classified topics in an area of the building any employee could access.
Safely in the Division Four area of the Devil Hunter’s floor of the building, Kishibe wanted to know if Angel could still make weapons, and Kishibe wanted him to prove it.
Sometimes, it was easy for Angel to forget he was just a glorified blacksmith to these people. In fact, glorified was probably wrong word. Blacksmiths were artisans — paid well and respected. Angel was paid in pocket change, sugar and movie trips.
Grumpily, Angel pulled another dagger from his halo. It was extremely elaborate; heavily patterned and jewel encrusted, the handle was shaped like a pair of wings. Angel didn’t know he was capable of making something so…
“Tacky!” Kishibe said.
“That’s like a Magical Girl weapon,” Aki said. Kishibe immediately lit another cigarette. He plucked the dagger from Angel’s hand, turning it over, analysing it.
“It’s heavy,” he said. “Let me make a few calls about this, we probably need to test your life draining shit. Tell me if anything else changes. In the meantime — you’ve got work to do. Guy who had his eyes gouged out at Father Park’s murder scene is down in medical – he’s name Morita, I’d like you to interview him. And we’ve got his fascist buddy in too. Guy’s named Daisuke Anno.” Kishibe handed Aki a folder, containing pictures of Morita’s injuries, a copy of his driver’s license, and pictures of Father Park’s body.
Aki told Kishibe he should investigate Ruby — and Kishibe agreed. He said he’d send someone down to Fantasy Island to get her real name.
“And Denji and Power were looking for you. They need lunch money,” Kishibe said.
“They came in on time?” Aki asked. Kishibe nodded.
“By themselves and everything. I already put a sticker on their chart for it, don’t let them con you into adding another.”
When Angel went to the kitchen to make coffee, he saw that Power and Denji’s sections on the sticker charts had been updated with a pair of shiny new gold stars. Every member of Division Four had one so they didn’t feel singled out. Beam was very behind on stickers, while Aki was way ahead — earning one star pretty much every day for showing up and doing his job in a normal way. Angel decided to award Kobeni a sticker for not pissing herself the previous evening — which was a big deal for her.
Angel came back to their desks, coffees in hand, to find Power and Denji crowing at Aki.
“We’re starving children and we starved to death,” Power complained.
“I had to go to the 7-11 to get old bentos out of the dumpster just so we didn’t die,” Denji said.
“There’s literally five thousand yen pinned to the fridge in case I work overnight,” Aki said. Power and Denji looked at him blankly. “It’s in an envelope marked open if Aki doesn’t come home? Under the big dinosaur magnet from the natural history museum?”
“Oh,” Power said. “Someone must have spent that on stuff already.” She looked extremely shifty, like an actor playing the killer in a shitty detective show. Aki asked her what kind of stuff. “Don’t know. But it was probably important stuff like… Cat toys. And lip gloss.”
“And bubble-gum,” Denji added. Aki sighed heavily. Power stretched out her hand. Her lips were extremely shiny.
“Give us money,” she said. Aki shook his head and handed them a thousand yen each. Way more than they deserved.
“Why are your ankles nakey?” Denji asked Angel, suddenly. “You wearing your shoes raw, dude?”
“He’s barebacking the shoe,” Power agreed. Aki immediately asked where she’d learned that word and she replied, voice casual: “Human pornography.”
“Don’t repeat things you hear in porn, and stop looking at Angel’s ankles,” Aki said.
“But they look so stupid,” Denji mumbled.
Now oddly conscious of his ankles — Angel excused himself to get a pair of socks from his apartment. A quick, ten-minute trip which allowed him to enjoy his horrible coffee in peace.
He met back up with Aki outside interrogation room 2, which was currently containing a tragic middle-aged fascist. Dressed all in black, his t-shirt bore a red sun. His name was Daisuke Anno, and he’d come in voluntarily when the Devil Hunters had knocked on his door this morning.
Aki was armed with a pack of cigarettes, and the folder containing pictures of Park’s body and Morita’s injuries.
“Should I go in? I might piss him off,” Angel said. Truthfully, he just didn’t really want to talk to a weird, hostile fascist guy. Lack of sleep was beginning to catch up with him and he thought fondly of laying his head down on the desk and taking a nap, while Aki did all of the hard work.
“Pissing him off is a valid interrogation strategy,” said Aki.
“No safety concerns?” Angel asked.
“What, for you?” Aki snorted. Angel shrugged. “You’re the biggest safety concern in the building.”
As Aki entered the room, Anno stood, and gave a respectful little bow. His demeanour soured as soon as he saw Angel.
“Public safety shouldn’t do shit like this,” he said. “Shouldn’t work with them. It’s perverse.” He was speaking only to Aki.
“I can go if I’m scaring you,” Angel said. Anno smirked.
“Oh, it’s supposed to be a boy? That’s fucking rich.” His hands were clenched on top of the table, and his leg bounced. He told Angel he wasn’t afraid — but that was a line. Angel could smell the fear on him. He reeked of it.
“Did you break Father Park’s window last week?” Aki asked, changing the subject. Angel opted to keep quiet, let Aki talk.
“Yes, we claimed responsibility for that,” Anno said. “We left a note threatening further action.”
“Who’s we?”
“The Anti-Devil Nationalist Party, of course.”
“How many members do you have?”
“… Seven,” Anno replied, clearing his throat. “We’re very new, so it’s impressive we’ve amassed so many members. A lot of people don’t like foreign priests in Japan. People agree they attract Devils. That Father Park — setting up in somewhere that’s already a den of… Degeneracy… It was easy to start recruiting. People wanted him gone.”
“You know he’s dead, don’t you?” Aki asked.
“Yeah, that’s why I’m here. Clearing my name because we haven’t got anything to do with this crazy fucking devil shit. I hate devils, I want them out of Japan — and that fucking Korean’s church is a perfect example of why we need to close the borders and-”
“Just answer the questions,” Angel said, cutting him off. Oddly enough, Anno stopped dead.
“Okay,” he replied, quietly. Aki raised his eyebrows at that but made nothing of it. He put the ‘before’ and ‘after’ photographs of Morita, the photocopied image of his driver’s licence and his thin, eyeless face, on to the table.
“This guy — you know him?” Aki asked. Anno shook his head.
“N…” he began. He appeared to be straining. He began to turn pink and kept looking at Angel as he repeatedly tried to say No, but eventually blurted out a yes, sweating and glaring at Angel. “You’re doing something to me.”
“No I’m not,” Angel replied. Anno was becoming visibly agitated. Angel told him to calm down, so he did, slumping suddenly in his chair into a relaxed posture.
“Fine,” he said.
“How do you know him?” Aki asked, tapping Morita’s picture.
“Morita was with us until a week ago. We’d just got done throwing a brick through the catholic mission window-
“The brick with the threat tied to it? From last week?” Aki asked. Anno nodded, and carried on.
“We were walking back to my place, pretty casual so we didn’t look suspicious. And Morita started arguing with the Last Church of Japan preacher — the doomsday guy, who hangs out on that street. I wasn’t in the mood to debate some degenerate freak, so I left him to it and went home. Morita called me the next day to say he’d seen the light of the angels and he’d never see me again. We were supposed to burn down the church together last night — make good on our threat. I thought I could do it alone, but I chickened out last minute.”
It was oddly candid, and when he was done, he brought his hand up to his mouth as if he hadn’t meant to say any of it. Aki turned to Angel.
“Are you doing that?” Aki asked. Angel shrugged.
“Touch your nose,” Angel said to Anno. And his fingers went involuntarily to his face. “Give me your hand,” Angel ordered, stretching his own hand out. This seemed like a good opportunity to test his life draining ability. He had absolutely no qualms about stealing a few days from this man’s life. Anno’s hand shot out to take Angel’s.
And Angel felt it — days draining into weeks till Angel decided to stop taking the time. He held Anno’s hand for another minute – turning his power on and off, just to make sure it wasn’t a fluke, then took his hand away.
That settled it — with a growing fear around angels, Angel’s powers had grown and improved. For the time being, he appeared to have control over his ability to drain human lifespans. He had control over his life draining ability – and seemed to be able to compel humans, to some extent.
Angel then had a vague recollection of people bending to his will like this back in his village. He was stronger then – when he was surrounded by people who loved and feared him.
“That felt fucking weird,” said Anno, shaking his hand. “What was that about?”
Angel blinked at him, then decided to try something. He leaned forward and looked into Anno’s eyes.
“You’re projecting your fear of devils onto foreigners and other unfamiliar things. You have no control over devil attacks — this feels like something you can change. But all you’re doing is creating more fear.” Angel held Anno’s gaze. Anno’s mouth dropped open with the shock of revelation.
“Which creates more devils and devil attacks!” he said. He slapped his head. “You’re right, I’m wasting my life,” Anno said, oddly perky. He looked earnestly at Aki and Angel. “Should I become a Devil Hunter instead?” he asked them. Aki gave Angel a sidelong glance.
“Um… Maybe go back to school,” Aki suggested. Anno nodded and took off his nationalist t-shirt, revealing a ratty undershirt. Aki told Anno to expect a visit from the police to tie up loose ends and showed him out. Aki closed the door to the interrogation room and turned to Angel.
“What the fuck did you do to him?”
“Touch your nose,” Angel barked at Aki. Aki frowned and said no. “I think he feared me — you don’t. Guess that’s more… Fear based power inflation?”
“Take any time when you held his hand?” Aki asked. Angel nodded – said he could turn it on and off. “I wonder how long this’ll last,” Aki said. Experimentally, he laid his hand on top of Angel’s. Each felt nothing but the pleasant warmth of the other’s palm.
“As long as people are scared of me, I guess,” Angel said.
*
They had to make a trip down to medical to see Morita – a tiny on-site hospital ward built to house injured prisoners. His room was under guard by a pair of junior Devil Hunters, two kids (a girl and a boy) even younger than Denji. They wore ill-fitting suits and stood ramrod straight, hands behind their backs like a pair of secret agents. They were taking their duties extreme seriously, checking Aki and Angel’s ID badges and everything, Aki whispering just let them, when Angel went to protest.
“Overhear anything useful?” Aki asked the junior Devil Hunters.
“He’s refusing all pain meds!” said the girl, helpfully.
“He says he feels great,” added the boy.
In the hospital room, Morita was propped up by a stack of pillows. The top half of his face was bandaged up, so only his mouth was visible. He was smirking.
“Tell us everything you know,” Angel tried commanding him. Morita laughed.
“I feel you trying to get in my head, false angel,” he said. “We know all about you. Devil. Child of lies. You’re weak. You’re a murderer.”
“How do you know about me?” Angel asked. “You mean the anti-devil nationalist party, or-”
“I mean the Last Church. The true angel knows all about you,” Morita hissed, and he refused to elaborate how or why.
“What makes you think your angel’s the real deal?” Aki tried. “If he’s the false Angel, how do you know your angel isn’t a devil too?” Morita didn’t respond. He sat silently; hands folded serenely in his lap.
“When I found you, you said something terrible had happened. You said you made a mistake,” Angel said.
“My faith was not a mistake,” Morita snapped. His smirk faltered. “But… Well… the priest was a heretic but… He wasn’t supposed to die… No.” Morita shook his head.
“You were the worst sinner at the meeting,” Aki prompted. Morita nodded. “You offered Park in your place?”
“No! No, no, I offered it Mr Anno. I had come to understand Daisuke Anno as an evil man since my conversion. He was supposed to be setting fire to the mission that night. But he wasn’t there. It was just… Father Park.” Morita seemed normal for a moment, guiltily stammering. Then he took a deep breath, and his creepy little smile came back. “But she needed a prize. She needed her prize. I was honoured to see her discard her earthly form and take her Angelic body, I… I could not deny her Father Park’s life,” he muttered, almost grinning.
“Her earthly form?” Aki repeated. Morita realised he’d said too much. He clamped his hands over his mouth. “So she’s a human woman who can transform? Is that what you’re saying?”
Morita said nothing.
“I did see two people breaking into the mission,” Angel said. “Does everyone at the last church know she has an earthly form? Or did you see something you weren’t supposed to?”
Out of curiosity, Angel peered at his life span. Morita had only a twenty-two days left to live. Either this man was extremely unlucky — or Angel had interrupted the Seraph before it could finish draining Morita, probably blinding him during the process. Maybe he had to die because he wasn’t supposed to see her transform — maybe she’d never intended to let him live.
“I won’t say anything else,” Morita said, voice muffled beneath his hands. “Leave me be.”
*
Aki wished they’d eaten lunch before they’d seen Morita. The whole thing was so creepy, he had barely any appetite. Plus, the food from HQ’s cafeteria wasn’t great. Aki picked queasily at his salad, while Angel ate sashimi like they hadn’t had an extremely fucked up twenty-four hours. Maybe Aki should’ve napped instead of eating.
“Are you okay?” Angel asked. Aki blinked. Yes. No. He felt terrible – but kind of great too. They’d both liked each other this whole time, they’d spent the morning together. Aki felt giddy and exhausted.
“Aren’t you finding all of this insane?” he asked.
“Yeah,” Angel said. “I think the insanity is kind of helping me focus. We don’t usually work on cases this interesting. And it’s affecting me personally, my powers, this angel stuff… The implication that the Last Church is familiar with me…” Angel stared thoughtfully out of the cafeteria window. “If this was a more boring case, I probably would’ve been trying to… I don’t know, hump your leg in a supply closet instead of doing interrogations and stuff.”
“Oh,” Aki said. “Okay.” He swallowed; mouth suddenly dry.
“Maybe later,” Angel said. “Maybe we should talk about this?” he added, gesturing to the space between them, the this.
“I… I dunno, Angel, do we have to? I liked you for a really long time. Let’s just enjoy it before we have to think about it too much,” Aki said. Then he added. “I’m so tired.”
Kishibe came barrelling over then, announcing he was sending them both home because HR were up his ass about the length of the shift.
“But you’re on call. Rest up, don’t spend the afternoon fucking around, because you’re back in as soon as I need you,” Kishibe said. “I brough you a sign-out form for Angel,” he added. He was holding a little stack of paper – he handed the sign-out sheet to Aki. “It’ll be easier for me if you guys are in one place – and I heard the laundry is broken at on-site housing.” Very generous of Kishibe to pretend he hadn’t guessed what was going on.
He handed Aki a second print out with a picture of Ruby. It was old – her face was rounder, her skin paler, her hair still black. YUKIKO MISHIMA was written beneath the picture, with her date of birth and other biographical info.
“That’s Ruby, alright,” Aki confirmed.
“Great. I’ll get some people on her apartment, we’ll try and take her in tonight. I’ll borrow Power and Denji, if that’s okay,” Kishibe said. Babysitting for him now – Aki wondered what he’d have to do later to pay Kishibe back for this.