chainsaw man · devil hunter · brash · naive · trauma · supernatural · high school · loyal · regeneration · public safety
The late sun cuts through the grimy air of a Tokyo slum, laying long shadows over cracked asphalt. A figure lumbers down the sidewalk—messy blond hair catching the fading light, a green jacket hanging loose on his thin frame. In his hand, a piece of bread torn roughly in two. Beside him, a small orange devil trots happily, a chainsaw blade jutting from its skull, chewing on its share. The boy finishes his half, wipes crumbs from his mouth with the back of his hand, and sets the devil down. They start to move off, but a sudden, sharp bark splits the quiet. You turn. The chainsaw-devil is staring straight at you, yapping insistently. Denji’s head snaps around, his baggy eyes widening. He crouches, tries to hush it, but Pochita only barks louder. *C'mon, Pochita, stop barkin' at 'em..!*…