Chapter Text
A pale, blue sky was the first sight she ever laid her eyes on.
Her vision was transfixed on the puffy, marshmallow-esque clouds overhead. Stratocumulus, she thought to herself—and promptly wondered how she knew that. Or how she knew that the trees which decorated her peripheral vision were evergreens.
How could one possibly describe what it feels like to come into existence?
It didn’t seem to her like there was any feeling attached to it at all. She wasn’t there, and then she was. That was about the size of it.
She pushed herself up off of her back and sat up straight, legs extended forward in front of her. Some of the grass beneath her had gotten stuck on her bare skin. A quick reach behind her and a brush with her arm was enough to remedy it.
Somehow it was clear to the girl that she had just been “born.” Though, birth felt inaccurate as a descriptor given nothing actually produced her, nor was she an infant. She just appeared. She appeared, and was aware of a few key facts. Things she knew to be true, even while having no basis to believe them.
Her name was Kasaka.
She was the Control Devil.
There was someone she needed to find.
Denji lived alone now.
Despite having stayed in this dingy little studio apartment for a while, it never started to feel like “home” to him. Sure, he ate, slept, and shit there, but it wasn’t somewhere the young blond loved to be. It did its job as a place to stay when he needed a break from shredding devils—that was the most credit he was willing to give.
Maybe that was because he could only afford the barest minimum of Tokyo living spaces, even after everything had gone to hell.
Maybe it was because he’d barely bothered to do any sort of furnishing or decorating.
Maybe it was because it was the first home where he didn’t share it with anyone else.
With eyes glazed over, Denji stared at the ceiling, splayed out limply on his futon. Moss green. An ugly color for a crappy bed. Normally he’d be busy hunting around this time, but a run in with the Concrete Devil yesterday left him worse for wear.
Some recuperation was sorely needed. The world wasn’t gonna end just because Chainsaw Man took a day off. Hell, it didn’t even end when it was supposed to.
The prophecy of Nostrawhatever that prick Yoshida and those cult freaks were always yapping about didn’t happen. Whether something stopped it, or if it was a hoax all along, Denji didn’t know, but the date passed, and that whole thing about the Death Devil killing everybody didn’t happen. All that jerking him around, all the torture they put him through, was for nothing.
It made him sick.
He rolled over on his side to look out the window, where a bit of sun spilled in from. The view of the suburb he landed himself in was actually decent—probably the only thing worth complimenting in this place. Kept him from feeling too cooped up, and provided enough illumination for him to be able to leave the lights off for most of the day. Anything to knock some yen off of the electricity bill.
Things were finally seeming to calm down somewhat after everyone realized that humanity wasn’t going to be wiped out in a fiery apocalypse. For now, anyway. Businesses and schools were reopening. Less and less chainsaw zombies were cropping up, which meant fewer murders in broad daylight. The world still sucked, but it had really turned to shit in the last few months. Hopefully with enough time, it’d get back to the usual amount of suck.
Out of the corner of his eye, Denji noticed a row of black figures moving about on top of a nearby powerline. A flock—no, a “murder” of crows, was perched tautly, examining their surroundings from a high vantage point. He always thought it was kinda cool, albeit a little creepy, that a group of them was called that.
It was Asa who he’d learned it from.
He shook his head wildly as if to exorcise the thought from it. A habit he relied on heavily. Maybe if he did it enough, his brain would turn into mush from bouncing around in his skull so much. Then he wouldn’t have to think of all the depressing stuff that clouded his mind.
He turned his attention back to jet black, flapping wings, and thought about what the Crow Devil might be like. Those things are scary smart, so it’d probably be pretty strong. All he could picture was a really big crow, though. He could definitely take that down, no sweat.
The beady eyes of one in particular, which he could swear were staring him down directly, left him feeling uncomfortable nonetheless.
To Kasaka’s dismay, she seemed to have “spawned” deep within the forest where she found herself. It would take a significant amount of on-foot traveling before she reached civilization.
She counted herself lucky that it seemed to be midday, and the temperature was reasonably warm. Traversing this vast maze of trees would be markedly more unpleasant if she were forced to do so in the cold without clothing.
The devil ran her fingers through her hair—wine red and flowing a few inches past her shoulders, with bangs almost long enough to cover her eyes. Riddled with knots. Kasaka managed to fix up most of the tangled mess of split ends, though some particularly chain-linked strands evaded her. It was fine. It wasn’t as if she needed to impress the wildlife.
She was unsure of how long she’d been walking at this point—perhaps an hour or two. With no point of reference to go off of, the best course of action she could think of was to pick a direction and walk in a straight line. Eventually that would have to lead to a way out.
The trek was proving exhausting. She’d been careful to steer clear of the plethora of scattered rocks and twigs beneath her feet as much as possible, but the occasional scratch was practically unavoidable.
The root of one particular tree, slightly protruding from the ground, escaped her vision and led to a nasty trip. Instinctively, she outstretched her arms, letting them take the brunt of the fall with a mild shriek. There was an immediate stinging sensation in her hands and knees, now marred with dirt and minor scrapes. Staggering back on her feet, she cursed under her breath and wiped them on the sides of her thighs. The new Control Devil may have only just come into existence today, but she already knew that she hated being unclean.
To add to the growing list of problems, the emptiness of her stomach became very apparent. Although devils could get by with significantly less sustenance than humans, that didn’t apply as effectively with a completely empty body. One that had yet to even experience water’s refreshment, or the dopamine that came from tasting one’s favorite food.
Favorite food… Do I have one? I guess not.
Kasaka continued to rifle through the filing cabinet of her mind as she plodded through the woods, trying to make sense of the information that came preloaded in her brain. It interested her that she wasn’t confused by her surroundings. She didn’t have to learn what a forest was, or trees, or plants, or anything like that. She already knew, somehow.
On the other hand, the new Control Devil was so far devoid of opinions—aside from that her current situation sucked. Kasaka supposed it made sense, though. She had yet to experience anything, after all. Ideally that could be changed soon, provided she didn’t die in the woods first.
An unknowable amount of time passed before Kasaka stumbled upon an outstretched tree branch, hosting a crow’s nest. Its lone, feathered inhabitant seemed to be pecking away at something. Some kind of food it scavenged, perhaps.
Kasaka watched intently. The first other living thing she’d encountered.
Instinctively, the devil slowly raised her arm, and pointed her index finger in its direction. In seconds, a chain shot out of her fingertip and dug itself into the side of the bird’s head, eliciting a piercing squawk, before it fell perfectly still.
The chain slowly retracted, pulling the avian into the palms of her hands. She cupped it gently, the metal still rooted into its tiny head.
You’re mine now.
The faintest smile played on her lips. Yes, this was what it meant to be the Control Devil.
“Fly, and listen for me.”
The chain exited its cranium and retreated back into Kasaka’s finger. No wounds were left on either party. Without delay, the crow took to the skies in search of civilization. She oriented herself to face the same direction as her new pawn, and watched as it disappeared into the distance.
It was only a matter of minutes before the sounds of a bustling city greeted her eardrums.
An exhale of relief.
She’d finally reached the edge of the woods after another half hour or so of walking. Dirty, scratched up, and exhausted, but the worst was over with.
Kasaka took a seat on the ground to catch her breath. The city laid just ahead, but what was next? She supposed she could wander aimlessly through Tokyo, but that likely wouldn’t yield results. And while she didn’t particularly care about the shame, a nude woman strolling through the streets would undoubtedly attract unwanted attention.
Would people try to help her? Hurt her? She wasn’t sure, and it didn’t seem worth it to run the risk. Even from afar, she could tell the area ahead was not in the best state. Scanning it revealed broken windows, cracked roads, even billowing smoke off in the distance.
It’d be best to stay on the outskirts for now, she decided. The crow from earlier returned to her hands per her orders. Its usefulness was limited, given she couldn’t see through it, only listen, but it would still suffice at scouting ahead.
The traipse continued, the devil managing to largely mask her presence by following the tree line. She wasn’t hearing much of value. Impossible to parse chatting from crowds of people, an occasional car horn—the standard noise pollutants.
Maybe she’d been going about this wrong. A devil’s sense of smell was far and away their most effective for location purposes.
Kasaka stopped and took a deep inhale. Her nose wrinkled from the amalgamation of scents and city stenches permeating through the air. Buried beneath all the fast food, trash, and gasoline, however, was something familiar.
Wet dog, with a hint of metal.
Denji spent his afternoon going through the motions of his morning routine, hours late.
He brushed his hair, transforming it from a wild mess into merely unkempt. The bristles of his toothbrush rubbed at his shark-like teeth, and washed away all the nasty bad breath germs in his mouth.
The blond’s sunken eyes met his reflection in the mirror, and he found himself wondering if the bags underneath them were ever meant to go away. His never seemed to, no matter how much sleep he got. They didn’t wash off either. Oh well. It didn’t really matter.
For lunch, one of the few remaining simple joys in his life—super toast, slathered in just about anything he felt like. Jam, honey, cinnamon, butter, syrup, the whole kitchen sink. Buying all the necessary ingredients for the optimal combination was, in reality, not cost effective at all, but he’d be damned before he made concessions on his most perfect creation. So what if it meant he could only use the air conditioning a few times a week? Super toast was more important.
After only a few bites into his sugary masterpiece, his ears perked up at the sound of knocking on the door.
He placed the bread down on the plate, and turned to look at the apartment’s entrance. Was he hearing things?
Another three knocks. Denji’s face contorted in confusion. Who the hell was here? He never got visitors.
He cautiously stood up from his chair at the tiny kitchen table, with no idea what to expect. He’d been good about paying his rent and bills, so the landlord shouldn’t be here.
Possibilities raced through his mind as he slowly stepped toward the door. Something about this was making his heart race. A neighbor? Probably not. He’d never introduced himself to any of them.
That old guy, Kishibe, came to mind for some reason. There was no way it would be him, though. He dropped Nayuta into his lap and then fucked off to who knows where. Probably drank himself to death or something by now.
The knocking continued. Denji furrowed his brow at the idea that it might be Yoshida or the useless bodyguard girl who always clung to him like a leech. He reached into his tank top and wrapped a finger around his ripcord. He’d love a chance to separate their smug faces from the rest of their bodies.
Or maybe…
His chest tightened.
Asa?
His finger left the ripcord’s triangular gap and fell to his side. He really wished he didn’t think of that. It would just make it hurt more when it wasn’t her.
His ears rung upon hearing knock numbers ten, eleven, and twelve. “Chill out, I’m coming!” he yelled, fear turning to annoyance.
He finally trudged his way up to the entrance, unlocking it and clasping his hand on the knob. He twisted it to the right, and pulled back gingerly.
It creaked something fierce as it opened. Cold air grazed Denji’s face. He truly didn’t know what to expect behind the door, but even so, he couldn’t possibly have been less prepared for who stood in front of him.
A petite girl he’d never seen before. She looked to be around his age, but a few inches shorter than him. Dark, burgundy hair messily draped past her shoulders, with bangs that almost obscured her eyes.
The eyes. Those eyes. Red ringed, with irises of pure gold. His jaw fell slack, his heart pounded. He recognize them anywhere, but… it couldn’t be. Right?
She was naked.
What?
His mind nearly snapped like a twig.
“Hello,” she said flatly.
“H—” Denji’s mouth had opened to speak, but no words came out. Instead, some kind of noise between a shriek and a growl escaped his throat. His feet were frozen where he stood.
The girl stared at him unblinkingly, confusion setting in on her face. A few seconds of silence prompted her to speak once more. “Are you alright?”
“You—” Denji gasped out. “Who are you? Why are you naked?!”
He couldn’t remotely understand what was going on. He’d seen nude women before in dirty magazines, but one had never just knocked on his front door until now. She wasn’t even covering anything up.
Was he supposed to look? No, right? That would be creepy. He shouldn’t.
But also… she was the one who showed up on his doorstep completely bare. Did she… want him to look?
It was only then that he noticed just how filthy she was. Her long hair twisted in knots. Her hands and just about everything from her waist down looked like it had been poorly wiped of dirt. Light scratches drew lines on her knees and the sides of her flesh, along with a few small cuts—blood already dried.
Wait, shit, am I staring?
“Kasaka.”
His head snapped up to meet her otherworldly eyes. “Huh?”
“My name is Kasaka.”
“...O-oh.”
“I don’t have any clothes,” she said, pointing out the obvious. “Could I come in?”
“You… what?” Denji could not believe what he was hearing. It’s like she didn’t get that there was anything weird about this situation at all. “You wanna come in?!”
“If you’d let me,” she replied, stone faced.
This didn’t feel right. Someone had to be fucking with him. Was she a spy? Naked girls didn’t just appear out of nowhere like this.
“Who—who sent you here?” he questioned, fighting for his life to keep his eyes from wandering. “Was it Public Safety? Yoshida?”
Kasaka gave a confused head tilt–one that felt a little too familiar. “I don’t know who you’re talking about. No one sent me.”
“You…” His thought was interrupted as he looked past the girl’s shoulder and noticed a few people staring from across the street. He stared back at them with a scowl for a moment before returning his attention to the matter at hand. “A-alright, just get in here,” he said, grabbing her arm and yanking her inside. She let out a tiny yelp, but followed suit, watching as he quickly shut the door and locked it behind her.
Their eyes met momentarily before Denji swiveled his head away from her, cheeks burning. What the hell was happening right now?
“Okay, so… Kasaka.” He paused, wondering what the hell he was supposed to say right now. “What, um… what’s your deal?”
“My deal?” She thought for a moment. “I don’t really have one,” she explained with a shrug. “I followed a familiar scent and it brought me here.”
“I… okay… I’m just, real confused.” He took another glance at her before swiftly whipping his head away again. “Look, uh, let me get you some clothes.”
“I’d like to take a bath first.”
“What?” He almost began to protest, but she was really dirty. “I… I guess that’s okay,” he relented. “...You need to tell me what the hell is going on after, though.”
The sides of her mouth curved into a small grin. “Thank you. I’ll tell you what I can.”
Much like the rest of the apartment, the bathroom was as bare minimum as it got. Tub on one side, toilet on the other, sink in between. All planted on off-white tiles. It wasn’t pretty, but it worked fine.
Warm water began to cascade from the tub’s faucet, slowly filling it up. Denji had no idea how he ended up drawing a bath for some random, dirt-stained girl, but here he was. Weirder things have happened to him before, he supposed.
“What’s your name?” Kasaka asked from behind him.
He couldn’t bring himself to turn around. “…Denji.”
“Denji,” she repeated softly. The syllables felt familiar on her tongue. As if she’d said it many times before.
“So, uh… I don’t have any girl shampoo, but this stuff should work fine.” He pointed to a sizable gray bottle of three in one shampoo, conditioner, and body wash. Lime and cedarwood scented, with a picture of the fruit in question slapped on the front. He didn’t really know what cedarwood was, if he was being honest, but it smelled alright.
“Anything will do.”
“...Cool. Well, it’s ready,” Denji noted, switching the faucet off. He turned around and nearly jumped out of his skin at seeing how close she was standing. He quickly sidled past her, making sure to keep his eyes toward the ceiling. “I’ll, uh, go grab ya some c-clothes.”
“Okay. Thanks,” Kasaka said with a muted smile. The sound of sloshing water played in his ears as she entered the bath.
Hurriedly, he rushed over to the closet to find something suitable enough for her to wear. He hadn’t been keeping up with laundry very well lately, so options were limited. Anything plain would be fine, but he realized as he rifled through his wardrobe that he owned perhaps too much of his own Chainsaw Man merchandise. There was no way in hell he’d be giving her that to wear.
With just a little more searching, he was able to find a few pairs of normal shirts with simple designs, and pulled out a plain royal blue one with the manufacturer’s logo on the back. Alongside that, a pair of black, drawstring shorts, which were admittedly identical to the ones he was currently wearing, plus some of his socks and boxers. He got the feeling that all of it would be oversized on her, but it’s not like he had any other options. He decided to snag one of his hoodies too, in case she was cold or something.
Denji made his way back to the bathroom and carefully folded the assortment of clothes he’d picked out over the sink. “These might not fit you, but uh… better than nothing, right?”
“Right. Beggars can’t be choosers,” Kasaka agreed, to his relief.
He turned his head ever so slightly to check if he could possibly make eye contact, but thought better of it and swiveled right back. Though, he was able to glean from the quick glance that the water she sat in was already losing its clarity from all the dirt that had accumulated on her lower half. “Um. Feel free to drain and refill that if you want. Also there’s a towel hangin’ on the door when you’re done. And… shout if ya need anything, I guess.”
”I will. Thank you, Denji.”
“Y-yeah, sure… It’s no problem.”
He couldn’t remember the last time he’d heard such a sweet-sounding voice say his name.
What the hell am I doing?
Denji sat at the table once again, finishing off the super toast he’d left unattended, deep in thought.
He had some random girl taking a bath in his apartment right now. That should be awesome, but it was mostly just confusing. Where did she come from? The way she spoke seemed normal, but her actions and what she’d told him so far were making his head spin.
The eyes.
He couldn’t stop thinking about the eyes.
His brain had to be screwing with him somehow. Maybe he’d hit his head one too many times while fighting recently and messed up something important in there.
It had to be that. Because the alternative made his stomach churn.
Things are looking up, Kasaka thought to herself.
The hot water was working wonders on all the cuts and scratches she’d earned for her troubles escaping that forest, and soothing her sore muscles.
She scrubbed her legs and feet vigorously with the old-looking washcloth placed on the side of the tub. It was somewhat disconcerting, seeing the clear water turn slightly brown, but this would be the worst of it.
Men’s shampoo smelled weird. Better than dirt? Sure, but not by a lot, especially for someone with such a sharp sense of smell. The devil could understand the convenience aspect of having multiple products mixed into one bottle, though she imagined the combination would dilute the effectiveness of all three. Regardless, she would make do.
After washing off the worst of the filth on her, Kasaka removed the drain plug, and watched as the water swirled down before turning the faucet back on for round two.
She sat patiently as the tub refilled, skin looking more pink than before from the harsh scrubbing. Her hair would be next.
Dipping her head back, the girl wondered where things would go from here. The boy living in this tiny apartment was unquestionably the source of the scent she’d picked up.
The problem was, she had no idea why Denji smelled familiar, or why he was so hospitable to her, someone he’d never met before.
She slathered her hair in the oddly slimy shampoo and considered some possibilities. She could very easily probe through his memories for answers, but was it necessary? As the Control Devil, nothing was truly stopping her from doing whatever she wanted. He could become her slave at the drop of a hat if she decided so.
Though, that may not actually get her the answers she was looking for–and Denji was already helping without her needing to use her abilities at all. It admittedly interested her, what it might be like to figure things out organically. There must be something special about this boy, for her to have been naturally, instinctively drawn to him.
Maybe it was worth playing out.
The sound of the bathroom door opening pulled Denji from his stupor, scrambling to lift his face off the kitchen table.
He watched as Kasaka stepped out in the set of clothes he’d left her. Unsurprisingly, they did not fit particularly well, each piece hanging a bit lower than it should.
At least he could look at her now, though.
“Hi,” the amber-eyed girl greeted.
“…H-hey.” Denji swallowed hard as she walked his way and sat down on the table’s other wooden chair. For a while he’d felt like an idiot for buying two, considering he was the only one ever here, but at least it finally paid off.
“Thank you for your help. I feel much better,” Kasaka said cheerfully. Her damp hair had curled up a bit, and dripped a few spots of water onto the floor.
“Yeah, sure. It’s nothin’...” he answered, voice trailing off.
A few seconds of quiet passed before Denji cleared his throat and got ready to begin his interrogation.
“So, uh… Kasaka. Why are you here?”
The girl placed a finger to her chin and searched her mind for answers. “I don’t really know. Like I said before, you have a familiar scent, so I followed it and ended up here.”
“…‘Kay.” That didn’t really explain much. “Well, where did ya come from?”
Kasaka waited a moment before replying. She knew her next response wouldn’t be particularly helpful either, but she didn’t know what else to say. “The woods.”
Denji raised an eyebrow. “The wo—what? Can ya be a little more specific, please?”
“I just… appeared there. Or maybe it would make more sense to say I was ‘born?’ I don’t really know how to describe it.”
“Born…?”
The shark-toothed boy looked down at his legs, only just then realizing how hard he’d been gripping his thighs. He didn’t want to believe it, but the evidence piling up was undeniable. “You… you’re a devil, right?”
Kasaka nodded. There wasn’t a point in hiding it, as far as she could think of. “Yes. The Contr—”
“Stop.”
Her eyes widened, surprised at being cut off. More surprised when Denji placed his head in his hands, palms covering his eyes.
“Don’t fuck with me,” he muttered breathily. “You’re not the Control Devil.”
Kasaka’s mouth hung open slightly in confusion. “…I am, though.”
“No. You can’t be.”
It almost hurt, to be subject to his disbelief. She didn’t understand. She was the Control Devil. It was one of the only things she knew for certain. Why was he denying it?
“Why do you say that?” she asked, a puzzled expression on her young-looking face.
“I can’t… I can’t accept it.” His head hurt. Or maybe it was his brain. Something hurt real bad.
“I could use my powers on you to prove it,” she suggested.
“N-no. You could just be something similar, like… I dunno, the… the Chain Devil or something. It doesn’t prove anything,” he denied intensely.
“…What can I do to make you believe me?” It pained Denji, that her voice sounded somber. Like she really wanted to be believed.
His mouth opened, ready to tell her there was nothing. No way to prove her case.
That wasn’t true, though.
He swallowed hard and clenched his teeth, before bringing his head up to meet her at eye level. Those bright red, ringed pupils pierced his defenses. He very nearly got lost in them. Poor Pochita was working overtime, thumping in his chest like mad.
The young blond extended his arm out towards Kasaka. He struggled to do so, feeling as if there were weights pushing him down. Nonetheless, Denji gradually lifted his thumb, letting it hang suspended a few inches away from the devil’s face, before issuing a single command.
“Bite me.”