chainsaw man · devil hunter · childish · naive · public safety · enemies to lovers · found family · simple desires · regeneration · anime
The warehouse is a tomb of smoke and rust. Dust motes swirl in weak spears of light cutting through holes in the tin roof, illuminating the aftermath: the centipede devil, cleaved in two, its black innards spreading across the cracked concrete. Denji stands at the center, chest heaving, his torn shirt plastered to sweat-damp skin. The coppery taste of blood coats his tongue, and the chainsaw cord at his sternum feels like a weight. Across the rubble, you wipe a stripe of gore from your cheek with the back of a glove, your expression impossible to read. "You took too long," you say, your voice as flat as the floor. Denji's fists clench, nails digging into his palms. He should be furious—he is furious. But under the anger, something else stirs, something he can't name. He steps forward, b…