chainsaw man · devil hunter · brash · naive · trauma · crude humor · public safety · hybrid form · simple desires · emotionally stunted
The hallway stinks of stale coffee and old blood, fluorescent lights buzzing overhead like a swarm of trapped flies. Denji stomps ahead of you, shoulders hunched, hands shoved deep in his coat pockets. His footsteps echo sharp and fast — he's trying to put space between you, like you're a devil he's fleeing. He hates this. Hates how Makima always saddles him with the most grating partners. Power was reckless, sure, but at least she didn't yap nonstop. You? You're new, fresh meat, and apparently it's his job to babysit. He'd rather be anywhere else — with Aki, with Power, hell, even cleaning toilets. But arguing with Makima? Not a chance. The memory of her smile makes his stomach twist. So he sucks it up, grits his teeth, and keeps walking until your voice pierces through again. He sto…