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Man. Fighting against Makima sucked at the time, and he didn’t like to think back to that month ever . But being flung into space was way better than sinking in the ocean. Drowning, even.
He felt the Abyssal Devil’s gnarled hands tug and grab at his legs, pulling him further down to its home. His chainsaws didn’t work well underwater (because of-fucking-course they didn’t, nothing ever went easy for him), his regenerative abilities somehow kept him from dying despite the pressure hurting like a bitch, and he was nearing the point of no return. The point he wouldn’t have anything nice to look at.
That was the difference between space and the ocean. Besides the water. Space had shit to see . The ocean stops having that at a certain point. He could if he had night-vision or was in a submarine, but he didn’t. Devil hunting as a side gig wasn’t enough to pay for cool shit like that. Not to mention he didn’t know how to pilot a submarine.
Cause an international incident my ass, Denji spat in his head, kicking the Abyssal Devil’s hands away. You try fighting off this bastard in the middle of the ocean. Alone.
Something touched his shoulder—not the cold and empty touch of the devil’s hands, but something far, far worse. Denji turned around in the water, pushing against the force of the ocean, and cursed. The curse didn’t really translate well through his mouth, though, as it came out as a bunch of bubbles. But he was sure that got his point across.
Nah, nah. Yoshida was weird. Yoshida showing up at school and at random cafes? Weird behaviour, but sure. Completely normal for a stalker. That made sense. Yoshida following Denji on this mission? It was technically a duo-mission in the first place, so whatever. Gave Denji a chance to beat the dude’s ass at board games.
Yoshida following Denji into the deepest depths of the ocean? Giving him that creepy smile and a peace sign while his tentacles fought off the devil itself?
There was something seriously wrong with the dude.
“Need a tentacle, Denji?”
Of course he could speak perfectly underwater. Stupid perfect Yoshida.
Denji held up his hands in a pseudo-shrug and twisted his face into an ugly expression that he hoped would convey his feelings on the matter.
“It sure doesn’t look like you were doing fine.” Yoshida peered down at the Abyssal Devil, one of his tentacles twisting around a pitch-black arm and flinging it away from the two of them. “And I wasn’t about to let you get away before my victory.”
That lying asshole. The game was still up in the air when they got hit; Denji absolutely could’ve made a miracle comeback and wiped Yoshida’s ass at Chainsaw Man-themed Trivial Pursuit if it weren’t for the devil below them.
“You’re running out of steam, right?” Yoshida asked, swimming further down and blocking incoming arms.
Denji nodded as best he could. His chainsaws could barely extend an inch out of his knuckles at this point and he’d reverted to his human head already. He might not have lasted much longer. If it weren’t for Yoshida…
Showing him up like that was just like him. Putting Denji in another life debt, because he hadn’t had enough of those already. Even now, with Yoshida shielding him from the Abyssal Devil’s attacks—it made his blood boil.
Usually, when that happened, he’d go all crazy with his chainsaws and proceed to kick the everloving crap out of whatever asshole devil they faced. Then he’d celebrate a win with some sort of take-out. That was how he worked. Anger and his desire to be seen made him a fucking beast.
Not this time, though.
This time, he felt it start. He felt the bloodlust rise inside him, the thrill of the battle rising in his chest like a mad dog, as he glared at Yoshida’s back. His finger was curled, ready to pull at his ripcord.
One of the devil’s black arms pierced through Yoshida’s stomach and gripped Denji’s throat in its hold. The water was beginning to turn red—nah, no way. That’s way too much red. Blood?
No way was Yoshida bleeding.
Was he even moving?
The devil’s chokehold stopped him from reaching Yoshida. Not just that; Yoshida was sinking further away from him. His limp body, sinking deeper and deeper into the abyss, guided by the length of the arm, until he faded into the pure black.
Why didn’t you try to save him?
There might have been another way.
The arm dragged him down to the abyssal zone. He didn’t try to fight back. He didn’t want to. Maybe it was useless to try.
When he stared down, he thought the barrel of a gun looked back.
Open the door.
He might’ve passed out at some point. It was almost impossible to tell in the abyss; it stripped him not only of his vision, but his sense of touch, his hearing, everything . The only sensation that remained was the bitterness of the water. All Denji knew for sure was that he’d spent a long time sinking.
Then his senses returned to him all at once. And the first thing he noticed—after his eyes adjusted to the sudden light—was Yoshida sprawled on the ocean floor, clouds of blood rising from his wound. He could just make out the slightest movement of Yoshida’s chest, the ragged breaths with every rise and fall.
A burst of bubbles popped around Denji and he crawled to Yoshida’s side. He couldn’t swim, like his body was made of cement, but fuck the Abyssal Devil if it thought it could stop Denji from doing what he wanted.
First thing was to stop the bleeding. Or, uh, close the wound. He’d seen plenty of quacks do that sort of thing on himself—not under tons of water, granted—and salt was a bitch to an open wound. Yoshida was lucky to be unconscious.
Denji pressed his hands over the hole in Yoshida’s stomach. Yeah, that should help for the time being. He didn’t want to think about how cold the skin under his palm was. That could be dealt with later. What he needed now was a plan.
“Should I count this as my lucky day?”
Denji held his head up and gaped at Yoshida. He received a wink and weak smile in return.
“I don’t think you’ve ever… actually touched me… on purpose before…”
Don’t make light of this, asshole. All he could do to talk was communicate in facial expressions. Right now: annoyed. You’re dying.
“And… my hole, too…” Yoshida chuckled, turning into a coughing fit partway. “You’re a… bold one… to start there…”
Disgusted face. Pissed off. Worried.
“Denji…”
Yoshida’s expression turned serious, and his gaze lingered on Denji’s own. Denji stared back. It was the most he could do for the dude who bought him a few extra minutes of life.
“Let’s play truth or dare.”
What the fuck? Denji thought.
What the fuck? Denji’s facial expression said.
“What the fuck?” is what he would’ve said had it not been translated to a load of bubbles.
Yoshida looked up. A blanket of black laid above them, like a starless night sky. Denji didn’t see much point in staring at nothing.
“Humour me… will you? I’m bored.”
Denji opened his mouth, spouting profanities that were lost in the water, letting that prove his point.
“Hm… true. I’ll ask… you answer. Yes or no.” Yoshida smiled. “It’s my dying wish, Denji.”
Shit. He’d feel real bad if he didn’t do this little thing. Sure, he wasn’t usually swayed by shit like this, but… Yoshida was nice to him, weird as he could be. He’d been the closest thing Denji had to a best friend for the past year. He was willing to put up with whatever bullshit Denji. Part of it was the job, yeah, but… it still happened.
Of course, Yoshida used that, and was using his masterful manipulation tactics to get Denji to play. Whatever. Denji pulled himself up and nodded. It sounded like a way to kill time.
“Hm… this is… actually tricky,” Yoshida hummed. “Do you… have a crush on anyone?”
Denji rolled his eyes and shook his head. That’s the best you could come up with?
“Surprising… I thought you would…”
He shrugged. He had a brief relationship with Asa, but that went nowhere. ‘Sides, he wasn’t really crushing on anyone in particular.
“Have you seen… that Ring movie?”
Nope. Denji shook his head. He hadn’t had the chance to visit the movies recently.
“Wanna… go… with me?”
If we make it out of this, you’re paying.
Denji nodded.
Yoshida stared at him. It wasn’t like his usual stares. There was no mischievous glint, no cunning scheme, only the most vulnerable Denji had ever seen him. Thinking about his death must’ve rattled him.
“Would you like me… if I were a girl?”
…Huh?
He didn’t have an answer to that. He didn’t even know how he managed to comprehend the question.
Yoshida was completely, utterly serious—and sincere.
So, Denji tilted his head. There was more Yoshida could—should—say. He wanted to hear more.
“I… I’m not about… to change genders… just for you. I’m me. And… I know you… you’re not gay. But I… I’m curious…” Yoshida closed his eyes, letting out a shaky sigh. “The kinds of questions… I’d regret not asking…”
Denji pressed down on Yoshida’s wound again. His hold had grown lighter during the explanation. Ensuring Yoshida survived was the most important thing to him. Getting distracted was just going to kill them quicker.
“Denji?”
Let me think.
“You good?”
You’re dying, you’ve basically just confessed to me, I’m trying to figure out what I’m thinking, shut up.
“...Denji…” his voice was barely a whisper now, “...eat me.”
Denji sat up against the force of the ocean, still covering Yoshida’s wound and kneeling by his side, and stared in shock. That may have been the weirdest thing Yoshida had ever said.
“I’m dead anyway. Look at me. But… I still have a duty.” He lifted a trembling hand and rested it over Denji’s own. “Sorry. I know you don’t… like guys touching you…”
No, it’s okay. I’m okay. You’re not hurting me.
“Devils get stronger from blood… yeah? If you ate me…”
You’re a fucking idiot.
“...You could escape.” Yoshida laughed softly. “Ever heard of whale falls? It’s when a whale’s corpse… bottom of the ocean, creatures feed on it. Survive on it. Suppose… I’m the whale. Saves me… some embarrassment too.”
Nah. Fuck that.
Denji lifted his hand from the wound and forced chainsaw blades to tear his skin open. The moment blood seeped from his body, he shoved his hand into Yoshida’s body.
Yoshida screamed. Denji felt more and more of his blood leaving his body and entering Yoshida’s own. He felt Yoshida’s skin heal, he felt when Yoshida finally had enough strength to stop screaming and tug Denji’s hand out of him.
He felt everything, and then he felt nothing. And saw nothing. And heard nothing.
For a while.
When he woke up and saw stars twinkling in the sky, he didn’t have the energy to be relieved. Not yet, at least. His entire body hurt. Fuck, that devil was a bitch.
He felt something shift next to him, and glanced at Yoshida. His wound was healed, at least.
“...I don’t know.”
Yoshida looked down, raising a brow.
“If I’d like you… if you were a girl.” It was hard to imagine him with tits. “You’re fine the way you are. Annoying, though.”
“I did kill that devil for us.”
“Yeah. Still annoying.” He sighed. “But… it’s in a good way. Different. Not sure. You feel different from everyone else. Like… slow.”
“Is that a good thing?”
“I dunno.” Denji forced himself to sit up, finding Yoshida’s hand and grasping it with his own. What he felt wasn’t the warmth of a woman’s touch, nor the rough, violent hands of men that haunted him. It was just… normal. Part of nature. “I really don’t know.”