Chapter Text
“So, to sum it up, each pair of partners will take care of an infant or small child for a month. Each duo's reflection on the experience will count as a final grade, so do not procrastinate and take this seriously.”
Denji perks up at the mention of partners, frantically searching around the room for any beauties who would be desperate enough to pair with him. He may not be smart, sure, but Denji is sure he has the heart to get this psychology project done.
Every girl avoids Denji’s eyes. Only one man holds contact, almost as pretty as a girl.
Hirofumi Yoshida.
Denji is sure girls would be tripping over themselves to pair with Yoshida. Smart, handsome, and takes school seriously. Yoshida smiles at him, and Denji immediately averts his gaze.
“I’ll be picking your partners based on a random generator. Please get in contact with them by the end of the class period.”
The class grumbles, but Denji's overjoyed. Random partners mean he may randomly get paired with a hottie who would usually never want anything to do with him. For an entire month.
Please, god, let me be with a beautiful woman.
“Yamakawa and Akiko.”
Lucky him , Denji thinks, getting paired with a girl like that.
Denji zones out as the teacher read the lists, only zoning in when the options continue growing slimmer and slimmer. Eventually, there aren't many people left. Just a few average-looking girls, one dude, and Yoshida Hirofumi.
Then two of the girls are gone.
That’s fine, Denji just needs to be paired with that last girl.
Denji is on the edge of his seat as the teacher reads out the last two of the remaining four names.
“Hikaru…”
Denji just needs to be paired with anyone other than Yoshida. This one had to be him.
“And Hisashi.”
Denji can hear Yoshida chuckle from the back of the classroom.
Just his luck.
“Which means our last pair is Hayakawa and Yoshida. Everyone get into your pairs and begin discussing your plans.”
Denji throws his head onto his desk in a show of dismay, groaning as loud as possible. Yoshida pulls up a chair across from his desk, straddling it like the smug douchebag he is.
“Perfect we’re paired together, huh?”
“Perfect my ass.” Denji peeks from above his arms to peer at Yoshida, who has the smug smile plastered across his face that he always does. “You’re already on me all the time, and now we hafta do this project together.”
Yoshida shrugs, “Saves me time and effort.”
Denji puts his head back down. “I’d rather just fail the final.”
“Don’t say that, Denji. Girls don’t like guys who are bad at school.”
Denji wishes he could provide a rebuttal, a counterargument of sorts, but he didn’t have much material to go off of. All he knew was that Yoshida was good at school, and had girls all over him, and Denji sucked at school. And there were no girls to be seen.
He groans again.
Yoshida taps on Denji’s arm. “Do you have a baby we can take care of, Denji?”
“Why would I just have a baby lying around? I’m busy, like, trying to reveal my identity as Chainsaw Man.” Yoshida rolls his eyes at how Denji projects his voice in the last part for others to hear.
Denji rubs his neck, “I do have a little kid though. Dunno her age.”
“That’s fine.” The bell rings, and Denji darts out the door. Yoshida is quick on the pursuit. “Who is she?”
“Her name’s Nayuta. She’s still pretty small.”
Yoshida is really hoping Denji actually had a kid, and this wasn’t another one of his pets. Like, Pochita or one of Makima’s dogs. But at the same time, he fears a kid being left in Denji’s possession.
Denji is outside the school now, on his typical route home. He’s rushing, as he always is after classes end, and he doesn’t even bother telling Yoshida not to follow him. Denji is used to the tailgating by now.
“Whose place is she at?” Yoshida gets his phone out, ready to text the child’s guardian to let them know. “Kishibe’s?”
“She’s already at mine. Kishibe gave her to me.”
“Kishibe…” Yoshida stops dead in his tracks for a second. “Gave you a kid?”
“Sure did.” The two arrive at Denji’s doorstep after a speedwalking marathon. “Take your shoes off when you come in.”
Yoshida doesn’t know what to expect when he walks in. His head is swirling with questions. Who “gave” Denji a kid? Who trusted Denji with a kid ?
“Hey, Nayuta.” Denji slips off his shoes, “I’m home.”
A girl with a small frame and jet-black hair peeks out from behind the living room’s wall. She’s wearing a black oversized t-shirt, presumably Denji’s, and kids' shorts. Despite Yoshida’s mental image of a smaller, more feral version of Denji, the girl before him was calm and had more similarities to Yoshida than to Denji. Her eyes widen at the sight of a visitor, and the rings decorating her irises are suddenly prevalent.
Just who is this kid?
“Hey, stay with Nayuta.” Denji starts moving towards a room in the back, “I’m gonna cook up some lunch for us.”
Denji keeps walking before adding, “Oh, and be careful. She likes to bite fingers.”
Before Yoshida could protest Denji’s cooking — he’s heard horror stories of Denji’s toxic cuisine from a few members of Public Safety — Denji is already in the kitchen.
And now Nayuta was staring holes into Yoshida.
Yoshida crouches down to be at eye level with the smaller girl before him. “Hi, Nayuta. I’m Yoshida.”
“...”
Nayuta just stands, unmoving and not speaking.
“Your br… fath-” Yoshida pauses, not knowing precisely what Denji is to Nayuta. “Denji and I are partners on a project together. I’ll be staying here for a little.”
“...”
Nayuta stares at Yoshida for one more second.
“‘Kay.”
Yoshida and Nayuta are now just staring each other down, silence building up and filling the room with uncomfortable tension. Yoshida never knew a kid could affect him like this.
“What do you like, Nayuta?”
“Dogs.”
“You like dogs, huh?” Yoshida’s running out of ideas. That one question was all the material he had. Was cooking always this slow?
“And bread.”
“Bread, huh… Bread is good.”
“...”
“Have you ever…” Yoshida racks his brain for conversation starters, locking eyes with the rings in Nayuta’s eyes. “Killed anyone before?”
“Yoshida!” Denji yells from the kitchen, “Why would you ask her that!”
“I don’t know what kids talk about anymore!” Yoshida yells back.
“It’s definitely not killing people! Even I know that! Just–” Denji fumbles with kitchenware, frustration laced in his voice.
Denji.
Denji is frustrated with Yoshida .
Not the other way around.
The world is ending. No need for the seven trumpets.
“Just come help set the table, dude.”
Yoshida graciously stands up and walks into the kitchen. He could set the table. He could not, however, speak with a child.
“Three sets.” Denji stirs a stainless steel pot, “Second drawer on the right.”
Yoshida walks over to the series of drawers, opening the second and taking out the predetermined amount of sets. Two were matching: One was training culinary for a kid, the other an ordinary adult size. It doesn’t look like Denji was expecting any guests, so Yoshida grabs another mismatching set.
Yoshida places the chopsticks down, “What’d you make?”
“Japanese Curry,” Denji responds without looking over. “Aki taught me how to make it once. No meat in it, though.”
“It’s alright. I like vegetable curry more, anyways.” Yoshida decides not to press the issue and risk reopening wounds barely stitched over. He just hopes Aki taught him well.
“Bring the bowls over.” Denji turns off the heat, “And no talking about killing at the table.”
“Sorry. When I was her age, I was thinking about contracts with devils.”
Denji forgot Yoshida hasn’t been brought up normally, either. He must’ve had a hell of a backstory to end up taking a deal with the octopus devil before hitting puberty.
“Well,” Denji begins filling the bowls with steaming white rice, “Nayuta’s the Control Devil, so you may have that in common, I guess.”
Pause.
“Nayuta’s the Control Devil?” Yoshida could’ve guessed from the eye rings, sure, but he’d also heard about the relationship dynamic between Denji and Makima.
The invincible Makima, now anew as the child in Denji’s home.
“Hm? Yeah, she is.” Denji finishes pouring the curry, “Let’s eat, Nayuta.”
“Wait, Denji.” Yoshida pulls Denji in for a whisper, “You’re taking care of the Control Devil ?”
“If I don’t, who will?” Denji retracts Yoshida’s grasp, “She hasn’t done anything, so I don’t care.”
“The Control Devil hasn’t always been bad. She’s got dreams too, ya know.” Denji adds, a bit more vulnerability laced in his voice, “It sucks to be hated for your parents, or where you came from, or whatever. To not have a good family.”
Yoshida’s stunned silent. He takes his seat at the table without another word and looks at the meal before him.
Denji’s pretty cool, huh.
Nayuta arrives at the table and sits with a pillow beneath her like she has this particular routine down to the millisecond. She pokes at a particularly large potato in the curry, “Vegetables. I want bread.”
“Hey. That’s rude to the farmers who made those vegetables. We can eat toast and jam for a snack later.”
“Thank you for the meal.” When Yoshida clasps his hands together, he isn’t just praying for the meal. He’s praying it is edible.
Yoshida’s arm shakes as he moves the spoon toward his mouth. He gives himself a countdown before putting the curry into his mouth, prepares to gag, and-
“Denji.” Yoshida puts his spoon down. “This is really good.”
“Huh?” Denji speaks with his mouth half full. “Oh, thanks.”
Denji swallows, “Got pretty good at cooking with Aki and with all these meat recipes. I can’t even look at meat for a while, though.”
“Nayuta doesn’t like eating her vegetables, huh?” Yoshida looks over to the girl across the table, picking apart her meal and eating around the carrots and potatoes.
“Sure doesn’t.” Denji takes another bite, “Least she doesn’t throw them, though.”
“That’s true, I guess…” Denji seems to have low standards for table manners.
“Hey, Nayuta.” Denji wipes his plate clean, “You’re gonna finish those, yeah?”
“Don’t wanna.” Nayuta had only vegetables left.
“You gotta. Vegetables make you big and strong.”
“Don’t wanna be.”
“You have to be big and strong to protect people, Nayuta.” Yoshida interjects on the conversation, “What about Denji here? Who’s gonna protect him if you don’t eat your vegetables?”
Nayuta pouts. She picks up her spoon and puts a carrot into her mouth.
Denji smiles a relaxed, genuine smile. A smile Yoshida hasn’t seen on him.
Denji turns to Yoshida, “Hey, isn’t your whole job protecting me or some crap? Why’s she gotta do it?”
Nayuta puts her spoon back down in unspoken agreement with Denji.
Yoshida grins, “So you want me to stay by your side forever?”
“Why would I ever ask a dude to be by my side?”
“Oh, I’m hurt.” Yoshida signals to the girl with a plate still filled with potatoes, “And you made Nayuta stop eating her veggies.”
“Wh-” Denji turns back to Nayuta, “But you were just eatin’ them!”
Nayuta shrugs, “Yoshi protects.”
Denji feels a blush growing up to his neck. “He-!”
“But, Nayuta,” Yoshida begins, “You and Denji are family. You have to always protect your family, right?”
“Family…” Denji mumbles.
“Fam’ly?” Nayuta ruffles her brows slightly.
“Family. People who are there for you, no matter what. Who care for you and who will go to any length to protect you. Sometimes people are lucky enough that they’re connected by blood, and sometimes, they’re found. Like you and Denji.”
Nayuta’s eyes widen, like a primal instinct embedded deep within her bones has finally been mellowed out. She looks at Denji like he’s what she’s been looking for.
She looks at Denji like family.
She finishes her plate of vegetables.
Yoshida was in charge of washing the dishes, a hand-off in exchange for dinner. Denji still lingers in the kitchen.
“How’d you come up with all that family talk?” Denji asks offhandedly.
Yoshida continues scrubbing the dishes for a few seconds. “I just thought it was true.”
“You were here for like, 20 minutes tops. How’d you think of that?”
“You just seem different around her. You care for her more than anyone at our school, that’s for sure.”
Denji grumbles, “Pretty low bar, Yoshida.”
Yoshida finishes drying off a bowl. “So you don’t consider her family?”
“I never-” Denji pauses. Family? What is family, exactly?
Aki and Power were family to him, according to Makima. Power, the younger sister, and Aki, the older, reliable brother. That made sense, and according to Yoshida’s argument, all checked out. He would go to any length to protect those two. He still wishes, every single day, that he did.
Was Nayuta like that to Denji, too?
Denji didn’t even want to take in Nayuta at first. Used to find it annoying when she climbed into his bed every night. The thought of living with somebody else in the home he made with the first two friends he’s ever had, the thought of even thinking to replace them, made him sick to his stomach.
But now he rushes home from school to eat lunch with her. To make sure she’s okay, and at night, to make sure she sleeps well. To hug her, to protect her.
He would definitely feel crappy if anything ever happened to her.
Nayuta.
Nayuta, the reincarnation of the Control Devil.
“I never…”
Aki and Power, Denji’s first family.
Nayuta, Denji’s now family.
It all checks out.
He’s not replacing Aki and Power. He never would. He never could.
Denji’s healing.
He’s building a family.
“I never said she wasn’t family, dumbass.” Denji walks out of the kitchen and grabs his backpack. “Hey, Nayuta. Stay over here while I do my homework.”
Yoshida smiles a relaxed, genuine smile. A smile he hasn’t worn in a while.