Chapter Text
Reze
Drip. Drip. Drip.
Something was leaking. Leaking things were never good. It meant that there was a hole, an opening for something to get through to her, something dangerous. It was always best to make sure everything is sealed up tight, that’s a lesson that was drilled into Reze ever since she was a child.
But something was leaking, which meant she should fix it. But how could she do that? Reze was dead, she knew she was. The numbness she felt all throughout her body convinced her of that. She must’ve been dead for a long time to feel this numb. But that didn’t bother Reze, she had been dead before, several times in fact. The numbness would go away when someone brought her back. If someone brought her back. Reze racked her brain, trying to remember just how she died.
There was the ocean. She was drowned by the Chainsaw target. But no, Denji brought her back, she remembered that.
An alleyway flashed across her mind. Yellow, ringed eyes and a soft spoken voice. Right, the witch Makima cut her up in an alleyway… fitting.
Wait, there was never a leak when she was dead before…
The girl forced her eyes open to see… nothing. The world around her was pitch black. But she could smell the rotting wood of whatever dingy corner she had been stashed into. She could feel the weight of the collar on her neck, preventing her from reaching for her pin. And yes, she could hear that god forsaken, persistent leak.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
She hated that sound. She hated leaks. The whole reason she was here in the first place was because of a leak. She let her guard down, let some idiot kid get through to her on a pipe dream of running away. She shut her eyes, there was nothing for her to see in this place anyway.
Leaks let dangerous things get to her.
Somewhere, behind her, a door creaked open, spilling in just enough light to allow the girl to make out the rest of the room. It was a basement, that much was clear. Wood support beams held up a low ceiling, with ancient and cracked concrete lining the floor. There were no windows, no way in or out except for the door behind her. And wherever that leak was, if one such mouse was small enough to slip through.
The stranger stood directly in front of her, setting down a chair he had been carrying before dropping down into it, leaning forward, and staring at her.
He was tall, much larger than her. But that didn’t matter, she had taken down people bigger than her before. He old too, well past his prime of doing whatever it was people like him did. She noted the stiffness in his left leg as he walked, as well as the scar that ran across his face. Weak points she could use.
They hadn’t bothered to tie her up either. She could take the gamble: Either they were underestimating her, or she was underestimating him. Considering how she got in this situation, Reze reasoned it was likely that Makima was close by. If that were the case, then there really was no fighting her way out.
She’d have to talk to this skeleton.
“Glad to see ya back among the living.” He said gruffly.
“Wasn’t my call.”
“Knew that.” He took a flask out of his pocket, popping the top off and taking a long swig. “It was my call.”
Reze raised an eyebrow, bringing her back meant only one thing. She learned what people go out of her from a young age. Having had it trained into her with each mission she was assigned.
A weapon, I am a weapon.
“What do you want me to do.” She said flatly.
“Nothing.” His answer came quick, so quick she almost believed him. “After I catch you up on the details, you’re free to go… so long as you don’t make yourself an enemy.”
She sat still, narrowing his eyes. He had and angle, he must. If they were just going to cut her lose again, why have Makima kill her?
He noticed the distrust written on her face. He took another drink from his flask before standing up, turning around to observe the dingy basement where she was kept.
“Lost a lotta my dogs lately…” He said softly. “Never think I’ll care that much… Just gets worse every time it happens…”
He turned back to her.
“Wars over, Makima’s dead. You’re her mess, and I’m done cleanin up after her.” He rummaged in his pocket, pulling out a wallet, tossing it over to her. But Reze barley registered anything after ‘Makima’s dead.’ Because…. How? How could she possibly be dead? The way her superiors talked about her… they way Reze saw her move.
She had a devil’s eyes, cold, calculating, and uncaring. Someone so obsessed with power they’d do whatever it took to rise to the top of whatever ladder she was on. Makima wasn’t something that could be killed… she was a concept. A concept of dread that had haunted Reze’s dead dreams for god knows how long.
“… How?” There was shock in her voice. Shock she had been trained to blot out when she talked.
I’m rusty.
“Killed by your ol pal Chainsaw Man.”
Denji…
Denji who was obsessed with Makima. Hell, if it wasn’t for Makima, he probably would have left with her that day. She could have saved him from so much… hurt.
“That wallet there has got a student ID, some cash, and a bank card to an account in your name…”
She picked up the wallet, pulling out the id card. A doctored photo of her sat in the upper corner, the words ‘Fouth East High’ Running along the top. It was a school ID. A real one with her on there and everything.
“That’s what you wanted, right?” He said dully.
“Yeah…” She admitted, seeing no point in lying to the old man at this point.
“Good.” He walked past her chair, towards the open door leading to the outside world, and Reze’s new life, stopping at the entrance.
“Denji’s there too, in case you were wondering.” With that, he left her alone in the leaky basement, with an open door this time.
It wasn’t hard to work the metal contraption off of her neck, just a simple twist and it snapped in half. Like he knew she would’ve never pulled the pin anyway.
The address listen on her student ID led her to a small, yet well furnished apartment in the city, just a short distance walk from her new school. It was quiet, and about as normal as a place could get. TV, Radio, a small bed, and a kitchen table. No surveillance equipment to be found across the entire place either. And Reze looked, nearly turning the freshly furnished apartment upside down in an attempt to find something, anything that could lead to this being a trap. Some kind of weird fucked up game set up by Makima, who wasn’t really dead because there was no way Denji killed her.
By Reze’s estimation, she’s been dead for no more than 2 months.
Denji
Hours turned into days, then days into weeks. And finally, it was one day away.
He was starting school tomorrow. Him and Nayuta.
Looking back, Denji knew he should really be excited for something like this. School was something normal kids did. Normal kids who lived normal lives and had normal problems. That’s what he was now after all.
The whole prospect sounded better in his head. Maybe because he always imagined certain people there with him. Certain people who, for a long list of reasons, could no longer do that.
It was just him… just him and Nayuta to fill the aching silence that was his apartment.
She wasn’t old enough to play video games yet, and not for a lack of trying. She thought she was great at Moral Combat, but that was only because Denji knew that you were supposed to let little kids win at things, a luxury he never afforded to Power. Almost everything he did with Nayuta had that caveat. Sure, it was fun, and he liked spending time with her, but it was… different. Numb, in a way.
He went on long walks, usually at night when devil activity was higher. Sure, he technically shouldn’t be transforming into Chainsaw Man, Kishibe had told him to lay off and prioritize raising Nayuta. But he still found himself making patrols a routine. Not that it mattered what the old man thought anyway, he hadn’t seen him since he dumped the girl on him.
Tonight he was itching, begging for a devil to leap out of the darkness and inject some fire into his heart. He wanted to feel the cold metal chains tear through his arms, ripping apart his head and jumbling up his brain. Anything to stop his life from feeling so god damn numb. But the Tokyo streets seemed extra quiet tonight. Like all the devils crawled into the shadows as a silent way of mocking him. Teasing him with the prospect of not being normal, just for a little while. Proving that he was truly incapable of just being normal. His insistence on coming out here every night proved them right.
He returned home that night in disgustingly clean clothes, far more drained of life that he wanted to be. Nayuta sat alone at their kitchen table, stacking and un-stacking the empty bowls she had set out for both of them.
“Did you kill any devils tonight?” She asked, not looking up from her repeated task.
“That’s not what I’m doin.” Denji lied. “Just goin for a walk. Everyone likes going for walks.”
“I don’t like going for walks.” She said, hopping down off his chair and walking towards him, “Walks make food take longer.” She hugged his leg, looking up at him with puppy dog eyes.
Puppy dog, ringed, familiar eyes.
“Right, sorry.” Denji muttered. “Whadda you wanna eat?”
“Bread.”
“Then why’d you set out bowls?”
Nayuta brought her finger to her chin, pondering for a moment.
“Bread cereal.”
Hm, Denji had never tried that before…
He diced the stale bread he had into small chunks, throwing them into 2 bowls of milk, pouring sugar all over the top.
Bread cereal tasted like cereal.
“What’s school gonna be like?” Nayuta asked, milk spilling out of her mouth.
“Don’t talk with your mouth full.” He said, dabbing a napkin around her lips. “...I dunno what it’s gonna be like, I never really been before. Like… not for real school.”
“Have you been to fake school?”
He had, though part of his knew the real thing would be nothing like that. There’d be no swimming pools, no hand holding…
“Yeah… Fake school is a ton of fun.”
“Well if fake school is fun, real school has to be way more fun.”
“I dunno about that…”
His mind wandered when he did dishes. He kinda figured it was the same for everyone. Aki never talked when he was doing them. You always had to ask him something 2 or 3 times before he would ever respond.
Most nights, his mind wandered back to Makima. It had only been a week or two since she was fully gone. No more meat in the apartment. No more nightly rituals, cooking the best meals he could make with everything he had in him. That’s what she deserved, he thought. If Makima had any say in it, she’d probably want to be made into the best meals ever, so that’s what he gave her.
Some nights, he hoped that didn’t make him a monster. Most nights, he didn’t care. He still loved her with everything that he had. He would say it out loud to himself every night before Nayuta showed up. Because that’s the way it was. That’s the way it had to be.
He thought about her less after Nayuta came along. Which was probably for the best. Nayuta wasn’t Makima after all, and he shouldn’t be thinking about her while he’s raising her… offspring? Next of kin? Just Makima herself? Whatever Nayuta would be to Makima, she certainly wasn’t the same as her. He made sure of that.
Tonight was the first night he didn’t have to try not to think about Makima while he washed the dishes. Instead, his mind drifted over to Reze. It made sense, with him starting school tomorrow and all. He only really realized that he should be going to school because she told him so in the first place. It was kinda because of her that he was even doing normal shit in the first place.
Thinking about her still hurt, even if he was only thinking about the school thing they did, or the cafe. He was decent at separating that Reze from the Reze who tried to kill him, but it wasn’t perfect. Sometimes, his mind would show him those things. His tongue being ripped out. It felt like a hot knife pressing against his brain, forcing him off that train of thought. It happened for other things too, like if he was thinking about Makima, and all of a sudden she was killing Power right in front of him again.
But still, most of the Reze related memories were good, as they should be. Denji still didn’t think Reze was a bad person. A person who did bad things, sure. But so was he. He killed people who didn’t wanna be killed too, and he never really felt some type of way about it. She popped into his head more often recently, and it made sense. She was probably the only person he cared about who was still alive somewhere.
Sometimes he thought about trying to find her. That was his plan before Nayuta came along. If it had just been him it probably would’ve been easy work. Just hop on over to that Soviet Union place and start asking around.
Once he got all new responsibilities, he figured he’d do the next best thing and sign up for school. That’s probably what she would’ve told him to do if he saw her. She was always worried about him being dumb, at least that’s what it felt like. She’d get all quiet or worried when they talked about school.
She must’ve really liked it to so insistent. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.
Once all the dogs were settled in, and Nayuta was fast asleep, Denji squeezed his way onto the cramped bed, carving out a little space for himself among the fur. He hoped for good dreams. A potchita to talk to, or a happy memory. He knew he could use that right about now.
Maybe more than any time.