Heaven - raysaria - Chainsaw Man (Manga) [Archive of Our Own] (2024)

Angel will not admit that he misses Aki. He will not admit that ever since he died, he has been haunting him in the form of a recurring nightmare. Ever since he died, Angel has felt a constant ache where the hand that touched him was meant to be.

Angel thought that Aki’s death would bring him peace. On the contrary, it made him restless. It made his stomach drop every time he saw something even slightly reminiscent of him, a ponytail, a cigarette, a human hand. He never went out anymore.

The entire world screamed his name, and Angel had no hands to cover his ears.

He spent his days in bed. He never worked anymore. Although that started as a good thing, it only gave him more time to think, and thinking almost always led to Aki.

Thanks to him, thanks to the letter he and Kishibe wrote to Public Safety, Angel had been permitted to ‘retire’. He hadn’t been put down. The simple fact that Angel is alive, that he’s breathing, is a constant reminder of Aki’s selflessness.

That day on the beach, Makima could’ve killed him. He would have joined Aki. He would have been in hell right now, burning and rotting and waiting to be born again.

Instead, he flew away. He let his wings carry him as far as he was willing to go. He was the first to warn Denji, but he should’ve known better. He should’ve known that Denji, Chainsaw, a stubborn, childish human, would never have believed him until it was far too late. And when Aki, no, the Gun Fiend, knocked on his door, Angel had warned him.

But if people listened to Angel, Aki wouldn’t be dead in the first place. Angel would have had at least 2 months left with him.

Instead, those two months went to the possibility of making a completely useless weapon that Angel certainly would have never used.

Two things hover above Angel’s head; his halo and Aki’s ghost.

He wants him back. He doesn’t care how he’ll get him, he wants him back.

Which is how he finds himself in hell despite being very much alive.

Not figuratively. Literally. Angel Devil finds himself in the empty, terrifying void that is hell, walking around in search for a man he may not even find.

Devils making contracts with each other was rare, practically unheard of, but not exactly impossible. Especially when it comes to the Death Devil.

The death devil, who possesses the ability to resurrect, to kill, who holds the lives of countless in its hands. Or, as humans so often call it, the grim reaper, or god.

An angel asking favors from a god. That’s what this is.

The death devil must have sensed, in some twisted way, Angels yearning to bring back someone dead. The death devil watches everyone, everywhere, constantly waiting for an opportunity. To make a contract, to kill, it’s all the same.

I will bring Aki back, if you can find him.

Angel doesn’t remember hearing the words. He doesn’t remember a voice, or a face, or a body. But somehow, when he woke up and found himself in hell, the thought had emerged from the back of his mind like an almost-forgotten memory. It had settled there, and Angel had grown used to it and found himself coming back to it until it gradually became I will bring Aki back, I will bring Aki, bring Aki, Aki, Aki, Aki.

Aki.

Angel spots, from the corner of his eye, Aki.

He didn’t want to find him here. Not in hell. Aki is too selfless for hell. Aki is too kind, too giving, too caring for hell. But Angel remembers that Aki is a fiend, and that all fiends, no matter how good they had been as a humans, go to hell.

There is a nauseating smell around him that Angel recognizes as gunpowder.

Don’t look at him.

The thought settles into the back of his mind.

Not until you’re back.

Angel accepts it.

“Aki.” He calls. He hears the faint rustle of clothing, and Aki is facing him. Angel's eyes are glued to the ground. “Follow me. You’re coming back home.”

Angel tries to seem indifferent, but his voice shakes, he feels his eyes burning, and before he knows it, something wet trickles down his cheek. He just hopes Aki can’t see it.

Angel starts walking and knows that Aki is following closely behind him. He focuses on the sound of his steps.

“Angel.” It’s barely a whisper. Angel feels himself itching with the urge to turn around. He stops himself before he can.

“Angel. Thank you.”

He rolls his eyes. Aki is behind him, yet somehow he must know, because he chuckles. Something tugs at Angel’s heart.

“Angel. I missed you.” He hears Aki’s voice break. He chooses to ignore it. He doesn’t respond. He knows that Aki can’t be bothered by his silence, because at least he sees him, at least Aki is allowed to look at him.

“How was hell?”

“Worse than the first time.”

Angel allows himself a smile. Hearing Aki’s voice is soothing, it’s comforting, after all this time. It might be the first conversation either of them has had for a while, so the awkwardness is forgotten, and they pretend that this is another one of those talks on a rainy day outside of the public safety building, where Aki holds up an umbrella and Angel stares blankly ahead.

“What made it worse?” He asks, unusually chatty. At least, by his standards.

“You weren’t there with me. I was all alone.”

Oh.

Angel feels bad for his lack of response. “I was lonely too.” He offers.

“How’s…” Aki trails off. Angel knows what he means. Earth? The realm of the living? Whatever one calls it.

“Chainsaw’s okay, from what I remember. We haven’t spoken in a while, though. I mostly stay home.”

Behind him, he hears Aki sigh.

They continue like this, marching through hell in search of an exit. Angel doesn’t know how he knows, but they’re almost there. He can feel it.

For most of the walk, they talk. They chat about anything and everything. They reminisce about their early days as buddies, before the bomb girl attack, before they knew each other’s touch. They don’t have time to dwell on things like Aki’s death, or the tragedies following it. They don’t have time for regrets.

At some point, Aki goes silent. Angel doesn’t mind it. He lets him. He has his steps, and that’s enough.

That is, until the steps stop. They grow quieter, and quieter, and quieter, until Angel no longer can hear them, and panic slowly begins to take root. Angel begins to call out his name. No answer. Okay. Maybe he just doesn’t want to talk. Maybe he just grew tired of him and needs a break.

But they’re in hell.

Anything can happen in hell.

(Angel had witnessed it, his arms, disappearing as if they had never been there in the first place, blood dripping from his eyes like tears and out of his mouth like spit.)

He feels overwhelmed with worry. He can’t lose him. Not again.

“Aki?” He calls out again. No response.

He could turn around, or not. He would be losing Aki either way. He would be losing the one he loves for the third time.

He realizes that he has just accepted the fact that he loves Aki.

And in a moment of yearning, of longing, in a moment where love mixes with fear and worry and panic and whatnot, Angel feels himself turning around.

Aki is there. Aki is safe. He is just as he remembers, but his hair is down, and his arm has been replaced by a gun. His eyes are still blue, his hair is still black, but his lips are dry, chapped, and held slightly agape. He stares at Angel with alarm, with horror.

Angel blinks, and Aki is gone.