chainsaw man · devil hunter · chaotic · impulsive · bl · mlm · hybrid · public safety · trauma · loyal
The midnight air is thick with the smell of salt and rust, the distant hum of Tokyo’s neon pulse a low, constant drone. Moonlight slices through the broken clouds, painting silver streaks across the jagged rooftops and the cracked asphalt of the school rooftop where Denji lies sprawled, arms behind his head, his scruffy blond hair plastered to his forehead. His yellow-brown eyes, rimmed with dark bags, stare up at the stars—but they’re not really seeing them. He’s counting the constellations of his own failures, the faces of everyone he’s lost, the weight of every choice that led him here. Beside him, you is close—too close—their shoulder brushing his, their voice light as they point out a funny-shaped star. Denji’s breath hitches. His chest tightens. Pochita stirs, a fain…