Airstrike
The first thing she heard was Meowy scratching at something. “Maybe she’s finally developed the urge to kill!” Power said aloud to herself, something she did frequently. But when she emerged from her room, she saw that Meowy was simply scratching at the apartment door. “Denji! Did you upset Meowy! I shall gut you for this, you miserable beast!” She yelled, kicking open the door to Denji’s room. Only to find it empty. But not just empty, emptied. There was a solemnity in the air there. Like seeing the first fully dead tree of the year, the arrival of winter. Power’s hair stood on end, Topknot was out shopping, he never took Denji shopping anymore, after That incident.
“Meowy! Guard my apartment! I must find Denji! Through my top shelf detective skills, I have deduced he is going to do something truly foolish.” She commanded, leaving her very capable right-hand-cat as sole guardsman of the domicile. “The trail leads yonder…” She murmured, following Denji’s scent.
Her journey took her all over Tokyo, or at least over the small amount of it she’d ever walked on foot. On her way she had passed a small costume store, plucking a crude and unlicensed costume of legendary detective Herlock Sholmes from the discount rack and leaving without paying for it. It was hers after all, she was simply taking back her property from thieves. Already she’d solved a crime, Power was the best detective in the world. When the irate shopkeeper told her she needed to pay for it, she simply said she was an undercover detective working for public safety, and the fool bought it (he called customer service to bill them for the costume later).
With a deerstalker cap on (she had to force it down over her horns, leaving two noticeable holes), a fake smoking pipe clenched in her teeth and a totally functional (not really) magnifying glass in hand, she ventured forth! “Perhaps to catch Denji, I must think like him?” Power pondered. She gave it a cursory try, but seeing as the only things she’d even seen Denji do were slobber over Makima, eat toast and hang out with her, she realised this line of thought would get her nowhere.
Until she smelled Makima.
“What is that vile thing doing here?! Wait, if Makima is here, Denji must be nearby! Waiting on her hand and foot like the fool he is, no doubt.” She said to nobody in particular.
“That’s why I like the country mouse.” Said the deceiving foul thing. Power cared not for her stupid mice. Then she heard the sound of flesh tearing, of a spear embedding itself in the ground. At first she thought Makima was killing him, but then she heard the slight gasp of a woman. Denji wasn’t here. A dead end, the case was ruined.
Some more inane drivel spilled from the creature Makima, and from Angel Devil. Wait, Angel Devil? And they just mentioned Hayakawa? Is this a division party she wasn’t invited to?? She was furious!
“Angel, kill anyone who enters this alleyway. Disposal teams are on the way. Try to push a dumpster in the way of the body. Denji is in the cafe over there, we cannot risk him seeing this.” Ordered Makima, before slinking back into the alley and disappearing from sight.
“Angel! Belay that! Power will be taking control of this situation!” She commanded, after all she could handle this better than some foolish angel.
“Oh, are you here for the disposal job?” Angel asked. Looking relieved that he wouldn’t have to move that dumpster.
“Of course, fool! I am the best disposer in public safety! Nay, the country! Nay, reality itself! I invented disposal! I have a Nobel prize in disposing of things! Step aside and let the professional handle this.” She lied through her pointy teeth.
“I’m not saying I don’t believe you, but I’m pretty sure I should wait for like, the actual disposal team.” Said Angel, unfazed by Power’s authoritative bullshittery.
“You dare question my authority?!” Screamed and indignant Power.
“Fine, I’ll leave. If you get me an ice cream.” Angel smirked.
“You would accuse the almighty Power of attempting to bribe a public official? I’ll have you know I have credibility to uphold.” She crossed her arms.
“Dude, just give me like 500 yen so I can get an ice cream. It’s hardly even any money, I don’t think it counts as a bribe.” He reasoned, he didn’t care about the specifics, he just wanted an ice cream.
“Now you would assume I am not wealthy!? I’m a billionaire you know!” She screamed, giving Angel 5,000 yen she kept in her pocket for emergencies.
“Sweet, enjoy your disposing, oh disposal lord.” Angel said, uncrumpling the notes as he left for the nearest ice cream parlour.
With that disturbance out of the way, and a mental note taken to investigate public safety for corruption later, Detective Power could get back to her investigation. Makima said Denji was in the cafe across the street. Mystery solved. Two cases down in one day, she was on a roll. But now, she decided to investigate this murder that had landed right in her lap.
In front of her was… Was potentially the most gorgeous woman she’d ever seen! That wasn’t her, obviously. She smelled like a devil, Power could still save her! Draining a small amount of her own blood, she fed it to the injured girl. Her eyes rolled back forward, she gasped and spluttered. “Remain still, foolish devil! The great and terrible Power has elected to save your life, but I will require assistance to get this spear out of you.” She said, she was really trying to be reassuring but it really did not work.
Reze was struggling, the spear in her spine was agonising, the devil blood kept trying to heal her, the spear kept ripping her apart. Finally, she reached her remaining hand to the spear and snapped it in half. Pulling herself slowly off of the grounded spike. Stumbling over to the wall, she slid down it, landing in a sitting position. Her hand darted up, trying to activate her choker and attain her devil form, but the pink haired devil in front of her stopped her. “Keep pressure on your wound on one side, I’m going to clot your blood on the other side. I am a trained professional, I can save you.” She ordered confidently.
She was confused, who was this woman, why was she helping her? But Reze was losing blood, so she decided she had to live now to question later. She did as she was told, holding a tight hand to her wound behind her back. Power noticed that the woman’s arm was missing, and it was bleeding; shit, had it been cut off? Power was the world’s greatest detective, how had she not noticed this?? It must have been the bewitching quality about her that was making it hard to think and made her smell really nice and…
“Uurggh! It’s not working!! Why is your blood so hard to control?!” She blamed the bleeding bombshell. Reze was speechless, how was this her fault? “Screw this! You’re a devil, drink more of my blood, it will heal you much better.” Power said, summoning more blood.
“I’m not drinking devil blood, get off me, I can take care of myself.” Reze said, trying to slip out from Power’s grip. Power responded by sitting on top of the injured woman’s legs. “Absolutely not. You will not survive if you leave. I have a 100% success rate as the most talented surgeon in Japan and I refuse to let you tarnish that record!” Power lied. “Now drink my blood!” She bellowed.
“Fine, what’s the catch, what’s the contract?” Reze asked, she needed to live, every instinct in her body was screaming at her to fight and kick and not go down like this. She wanted to escape this life. She’d do anything.
“Eh? Contract?” Power was confused, she didn’t do this for money, her successful career as a respected brain surgeon was done all for the common good. No, she did not see the irony in this statement when compared to her general distaste for human life.
“You’re a devil, or some kind of hybrid. You give me your blood and save my life, I do something for you. That’s the deal, right?” Reze was confused, was this not a devil? It lied like one, and was willing to save her, there had to be a cost.
“Ah yes, the contract! The one I’ve been planning this whole time. You umm, you have to. Uhh…” The usually endlessly talkative Power was speechless. She didn’t know what she wanted. Confusion? That was weak, it was human. She stopped thinking (a task that was remarkably easy for her) and decided to let her devil instincts do the talking. She was a fearsome devil, the strongest! She must have made contracts before.
“I will save your life, in return. You will dedicate yourself to me, body and soul.” Said the blood fiend.
“Like, as your girlfriend?” Reze joked. This stupid devil had no idea what it wanted. She’d get off scot free. Then she could kill that duplicitous…
“Yes! In exchange for my blood, you will be mine! My bride! Drink from me and the contract is sealed!” Bellowed the fiend. Wait had she just said that? Why had she said that? Is that what she wanted? Was this some kind of terrifying wedding demon that had overwhelmed her capacity to reason? Corrupting her mind and making her think of something so pitiful as a life of disgusting, human domestic bliss?
“Whatever. Fine. I do.” Reze said dismissively, drinking the blood now pouring from Power’s wrist. Her arm began to reform and her chest wound started to close. Frozen solid, Power felt herself getting woozy from the blood loss. Did she just get a girlfriend? Hahaha, Denji was gonna be so jealous.
With her body reformed, Reze moved to push the devil off of her. Then again, this devil was strong enough to save her from death, maybe it wouldn’t hurt to have her on side when she ran away? She saved her from that red haired woman once, maybe she could do it again?
Slumping over, Power landed in the crook of Reze’s neck. “New bride, what is your name?” She asked, muffled by the fabric of Reze’s polo shirt.
“Reze, what’s yours?” She responded quizzically
“Powah…” She groaned, the loss of blood made her tired.
“Well, ‘Powah’, do you want me to take you back to my place? You seem a little tired.” She asked, putting a hand around the pink haired devil’s back.
“Yes, carry me, puny one… Power is tired. And you smell nice.” She said, closing her eyes.
“Can’t say the same about you.” Reze laughed, the devil smelled like she hadn’t showered in weeks. She didn’t respond. She was unconscious.
Her training told her that the devil was dead weight. Leave her, forget the contract, kill Chainsaw, serve your motherland.
But she didn’t. She carried the demon into a nearby apartment block, found an empty apartment awaiting refurbishment and laid the devil down on a bed. Searching the devil’s pockets, she found a crumpled up shawl in a tartan pattern with a tag still attached labelling it as a “detective cloak”. It was terrible quality. Matched the devil’s terrible hat, though. She tore it, wrapped it around her head like a scarf, and went into the apartment’s laundry room to steal some clothes. She’d go and shoplift some food for her and her new partner.
This was a bad plan, she was gonna be a fugitive of at least two nations. If she got caught by the japanese police, she’d be sent to the woman from public safety. If she got extradited…
Banishing the thought, she went to the laundry room. She could work with this. She’d pretended to like Denji, she could pretend to like a pretty girl no problem.
Pretty?
ой блять.