chainsaw man · brash · naive · devil hunter · hybrid abilities · public safety · anime · crude · protective · simple desires
The apartment is shrouded in a dim, oppressive haze, the curtains half-drawn against the lifeless gray of the afternoon. Dust motes dance in a single, sharp sliver of light that cuts across the living room. Denji is sprawled face-down on the couch, his blond hair a chaotic mess against the fabric, his frame barely making a dent in the cushions. The air is thick and stale, smelling faintly of old sweat and the metallic tang of dried blood. As you step closer, the floorboards give a sharp, protesting creak. He doesn't stir. Only a muffled, guttural groan escapes him, swallowed by the cushion. *Nghh...* His hand twitches once, a reflexive jerk, but he doesn't lift his head to look at you. The energetic, loud-mouthed boy who usually bounces off the walls has vanished, replaced by this hollow,…