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Denji is steadying himself to spring into another attack when it happens – his chainsaws start to retract.
He curses and runs for cover in an alley. He can feel himself starting to slip back into human form. If he can land one more hit on that devil to draw blood...
But it's fast, already heading for another part of town now that Chainsaw Man is out of its way. Other devil hunters must be around, but are they going to thank him for giving them a leg up after they take all the credit for the kill?
Denji peeks out at the main street. Bystanders start to come out of hiding, and a Public Safety vehicle rolls up in the distance.
Behind him in the alley, he hears footsteps. Whoever it is must have been hiding there during the fight and seen him as Chainsaw Man. Perfect! He turns to face his new confidante, and –
The Octopus Devil's tentacle drops him face‐down on ground.
"Dude, seriously?!"
Denji rolls over. Yoshida is peering down at him, hands in his pockets.
"You were watching the whole time?"
Yoshida offers a hand. Denji gets to his feet by himself.
He's been taken to a different alleyway. No one else is there. Only them, a dumpster, and battered, whirring vents that jut out from the buildings sandwiching it.
Denji frowns. "I'm going home."
Yoshida taps the school bag on his shoulder. "Put on a shirt at least. I brought you a change of clothes."
"I brought my own, if you'd let me go back to–"
"Ah, I see."
A tentacle spawns with Denji's own school bag hanging from it. Denji snatches it, seething.
"You haven't recovered," Yoshida says.
"Maybe if you helped, I would've got a bite."
Denji turns his back to Yoshida and crouches down to rummage in his bag for his clothes.
"I can help now."
Reluctantly, Denji stands up. Yoshida is pointing a hunting knife at his own neck.
"You're going after it?"
"No," Yoshida presses the tip against his skin and points at himself with his other hand, "I'll give you a drink."
Great, Yoshida's still finding new ways to mess with him. "Gross," Denji says.
"But I know you'll like the taste." Yoshida smiles.
"You're making it even more gross."
He's not wrong, though. Coming down from an adrenaline high from the fight, Denji feels more pain in his limbs every second. Low on blood, it would take way too long before he heals. Just a mouthful of fresh blood would give so much relief, so quickly.
And... he does like the taste.
Yoshida undoes the top buttons of his uniform and holds the blade against the side of his neck, then starts gently tapping it, like a question.
Denji has a vision of what it looks like to be standing in an alley with his mouth pressed against Yoshida's neck.
"Does it have to be there?"
"Tell me where you prefer."
Denji has another vision, of Yoshida unbuttoning the rest of his clothes, silently waiting for Denji to –
"Doesn't matter. You're crazy. Let's get it over with." The faster he's out of here, the faster his mind will stop torturing him.
Denji steps closer. Yoshida lowers the knife and takes Denji's hand to wrap his fingers around the handle.
"You make the cut." Yoshida stares into Denji's eyes with his usual infuriating calmness.
Denji brings the knife up to his neck. He doesn't flinch.
"When will you trust me this much, Denji?"
Denji scowls. He can't answer. He doesn't know how. If he tries to slit Yoshida's throat, won't the Octopus Devil fling him away?
With his free hand, he folds back Yoshida's collar to expose more skin, then makes an incision until blood starts to drip along the blade. He lowers the knife and starts to drink.
What he's doing makes perfect sense, he tells himself. Some so‐called organisation just had to send this irritating pretty boy to stick his nose in Denji's plans; it's only fair Denji gets something out of the arrangement.
Denji presses his fingers harder into the side of Yoshida's neck. He staggers slightly, and Denji grips his hand, sharing his hold on the knife.
No, damn it, he should have kept the knife to himself!
He consoles himself thinking he won't be in this position for long – he's already feeling better from the blood. But his pulse is racing. How much caffeine does this guy drink anyway?
He feels Yoshida's other hand rest against his back. He closes his eyes. The touch brings back bittersweet memories.
As soon as it does, he opens them again, because it is completely stupid of him to close his eyes while having only half a grip on a sharp blade, the other half in the hand of fucking Yoshida. Were all the times Denji died in Kishibe's training for nothing?
Also, with his eyes open, he can see the person he's pressed chest‐to‐chest with is not, in fact, a girl, but once again, fucking Yoshida – a dude, a man, a fellow male high school student, who has been following him around uninvited and occasionally buying him fancy desserts over the past few months.
Hell, he shouldn't even need to open his eyes to know. Wasn't it obvious enough from the start who it was, with no cup size to speak of, metal buttons down his uniform instead of the girls' blouse and ribbon combo, and a row of ear piercings brushing against Denji's temple?
Denji lets go and almost jumps away.
Yoshida sheathes his knife, takes a handkerchief out of his pocket, and presses it against his bleeding neck.
"You good?" he asks.
Denji nods, then turns away to put on his uniform top in a violent rush.
Yoshida is still standing there when he's done.
"You," Denji says, sighing, "are you out of your mind?"
Yoshida laughs. "I am a devil hunter, yes."
"Any other devil hunters in your organisation you can swap shifts with?"
"I wouldn't dream of it."
"What if I say I want a replacement?"
"You won't get one."
Yoshida picks up his bag, but doesn't leave yet.
"Denji." Yoshida pauses, as if he's finding the words. "Anyone who spends enough time with you will understand: you're too easy to love."
"...What're you talking about?"
"I'm talking about girls."
"You're talking nonsense. You saw how many times I got rejected."
Yoshida shakes his head. "If they walk away too soon, they've missed out."
Denji's not sure what to make of that. He puts it down to Yoshida being crazy.
Yoshida himself walks away, out of the alley and to places Denji doesn't care to know.
Denji's heart still flutters. It's from the blood.
From the blood.