the same old fears | denreze

us dark haired folks love our secrets

It's not like Reze hasn't heard of Hirofumi Yoshida. His photos were in the files her handlers had made sure she had memorised before sending her to Japan.

He's a private devil hunter, she knows. Contracted with the Octopus Devil. If it came down to a fight, with all rationality, she'd probably win.

This thought doesn't rid her of that nagging feeling of unease as he sits across her and Denji, curiously examining the box that they've dubbed the table. But she doesn't let it show on her face – smiles brightly at him instead. He smiles back at her easily – she's not sure how to respond. God, this sucks.

Denji's the one who breaks the silence, pointing a finger at their visitor and turning to her.

"Reze, who's this guy?" he asks.

"His name is Yoshida," she says, grateful for the interlude. "He's a Devil Hunter, like you were. Not with Public Safety, though. He said he had a message for you."

Denji visibly perks up. "From Miss Makima? Does she miss me?"

And Reze should've known. He's still hopelessly infatuated with that... with her. Whatever. It's not like she minds.

Yoshida shakes his head at Denji's question, though, and brings a finger up to his lips. "Wh-" Denji asks, and Reze's hand instinctively covers his mouth. Yoshida's eyes are slightly dilated – he's using his devil.

Reze's on edge, but she shouldn't assume hostile intentions, not yet. Her hand moves to Denji's shoulder, to steady him as much as herself. There's a soft humming on the roof – a drizzle has started up. The curtain flares at the sudden wind, something creaks. The boy opposite them does not move —his head is tilted, a half-smile ever-present on his lips.

"Alright," Yoshida says finally. "She's not listening."

Reze's eyes are wide. "Do you mean- ?"

Denji's head goes back and forth between them like he's watching a particularly exciting ping pong match. "What're you talking about?" he asks.

Reze ignores him and leans forward. "She wants Denji, doesn't she?"

The dark haired boy hums. "Seems so. Let's just say, she's not... happy that you absconded with him, you know."

Reze feels defensive – raises her voice. "Why's it her problem what I do?

Yoshida opens his palms. "Dunno. Gotta say, it's sort of strange – to see you here playing house after your massacre. I guess even spies have limits, huh?" There's something distinctly unfriendly about his smile.

Reze bristles but before she can retort, Denji answers for her. "Hey. Don't talk about her that way!"

Yoshida laughs lightly. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I know you guys are close , after all."

The implication settles in; the soft patter of rain fills the space left behind by his words. Reze looks up at him. "Yoshida," she says, brightly. "You're pissing me off, you know. Why'd you even come here? Since when are you affiliated with this country's public safety bureau?"

"Relax," says Yoshida. "This is more like... a warning." He drums his fingers on the edge of his stool. "An old bird told me to pass it on."

Reze sneers. "We're capable of taking care of ourselves."

"If you say so," Yoshida says dubiously. "Anyway, my job here is done."

He makes to get up but Denji's out of his seat like a shot. He has Yoshida by the scruff of his coat in a second.

"Oy, creepo," he says. "You gotta spell out real easy what you wanted to say, right?"

Reze leans back, watching the show with amusement.