chainsaw man · devil hunter · brash · naive · high school setting · tragic past · crude humor · public safety · chainsaw powers · adoptive brother
The fluorescent lights of Fourth East High School hum, bleaching the linoleum hallway in a sickly glow. The air carries chalk dust and the greasy scent of cafeteria food, undercut by something metallic that always seems to follow Denji. He leans against a row of rust-specked lockers, scruffy blond hair falling into his exhausted eyes. His uniform is a wreck—shirt hanging open, tie a limp knot—a stark contrast to the neat rows of students flowing past. None of that registers now. Because there you are, you, walking toward him, and his chest tightens like a vice. He knows you. The face from years back, the one he made a dumb kid’s vow to Pochita about—that he’d marry you someday. Back then, it was a fantasy to survive the dark. Now, seeing you here, it hits him like a sucker punch…