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Denji hunched over the table, pencil gripped in his fist so hard it threatened to snap. In front of him lay several sheets of paper, his responsibility being to fill them out. This proved to be a far more difficult task than he first thought.
Shame on Kishibe for assuming he could do something like this by himself. Even the crunchy sound of "Heaven Knows I'm Miserable Now" from his bootleg tape playing on the stereo he fished out of a dumpster in that one rich neighborhood wasn't helping him think. That always helped. How was he going to do this now?
"Denji, I'm hungry," Nayuta said in place of an order to make her food. Evidently, she'd been standing in the corner watching him for the last several minutes, trying to figure out what he was doing.
"Yeah, I'll...I'll make dinner here soon. Just gotta...do this thing first."
"Denji, I'm hungry now," she stressed. The dogs echoed this, all of them taking Nayuta's demands as the signal to swarm Denji and beg for their own food.
He grumbled, tapping the pencil against the page. "I'm going as fast as I can," he whined. "This thing's really tough."
Nayuta climbed onto the table to take a look at what he was doing. "You didn't write anything," she said.
"It's the first question," he told her. "I don't know what to write down."
She looked to where he was pointing, then up at him. "Denji, that's your name. You have to write your name."
"Duh, I know that!" he shouted. "It's the other part of it! The part that ain't Denji!" He palmed one of the dogs on the head and rubbed it, hoping it would help him think. "The school wants a surname for us on these forms, which I guess makes sense, but I don't know what it is."
"Don't all humans have surnames?" Nayuta asked him. "Just put yours."
"I don't know it," he said plainly. "It's been forever since I last heard it. I think there was at least one guy who still knew it, but he's…" Well, he wasn't entirely sure, but probably decomposing wherever the other zombies were right about now.
"Make one up," Nayuta suggested.
"That's, like, lying, right?"
"Make one up," Nayuta repeated. "Make up a cool name. Like ice cream."
"That's a food," he snorted.
"Hamburger!"
"People are gonna try to eat me if I sound that good!"
"Ramen! Gyoza! Fried chicken!"
"You're just saying the things you want to eat!" he laughed, tousling her hair. He sat back into the dog pile and sighed. "You think I could just put Chainsaw Man? Nah, that wouldn't work. That'd be like having a superhero name as your legal name. Makes it seem way less cool if it's like that."
Think, Denji! What's a surname even supposed to be? It's the name for your family. What family did he have? His mom died what felt like forever ago, and his dad...was gone now. That Yakuza bastard sucked, and he didn't want to think of that guy like family no matter what Katana Dick said to mess with him before. So, who's his family?
Well, he had one option. Thinking about it hurt deep in his chest. It always did when he started to think about these things. He certainly didn't feel like he deserved it, but if a surname was meant to be about who your family was…
He let out a long sigh before sitting up. Taking the pencil, he took his time as he wrote out the characters.
"You thought of one," Nayuta said, leaning over to see his answer. It just confused her, though. "Hayakawa sounds dumb. You should have gone with one of mine."
"We're not getting named after food," he said. "Cool if I put that on your form?"
"I don't care," Nayuta said, laying down on the table. "Make food now."
"Yeah, yeah, in a minute," Denji sighed. "Still got the rest of this to do. But I'm sure it's gonna be way easier now that I'm over this!" He turned his attention back to the form. "Okay, so next up...age."
Another wall. "Shit, okay, let's see…" He crossed his arms, trying to do the math on how old he actually was now. At some point, he'd stopped thinking about that. "So, I think I was sixteen, but that was a while ago. Yeah, that's right. I already had my bir-"
His face went pale. "Yeah…" he muttered. "Yeah." He was thinking about it again. All those things he didn't want to think about anymore.
They weren't stopping. If they didn't stop soon, another door might open. He didn't have it in him to see what was inside. Not now. "Nayuta, I gotta...go. For a little bit."
"Denji, I need food!"
He stood up, balling his hands into fists to keep them from shaking. He had to get out of here. Find something to do. Devils to kill. Cans to turn in for recycling. Girls to look at. Some kind of distraction. "Yeah, sorry. I've got some money, so...I'll pick us up something. When I come back."
Nayuta grumbled at him, standing up on the table. "I'm hungry. Don't take too long."
"Yeah, I'll be back soon. If I take too long...uh, we've got stuff in the freezer. Just put it in the microwave, okay? Don't use the stove." He walked to the door. "And, uh, if I don't get back soon, can you feed everyone for me? Sorry. Just...gotta go for a little bit."
It seemed to be dawning on Nayuta that something wasn't right with him. "Denji," she muttered, reaching out towards him. He was already out the door, though, heading off somewhere she wasn't meant to follow.
A yowl sounded from the top of the tape deck after it went silent. Nayuta turned and nodded at Meowy, her expression darkening. "I agree. Those forms made Denji sad and stupid." She hopped down, taking a seat as the dogs crowded around her. "I'm going to finish them so Denji can stop being sad."
Everything would be okay when the forms were done. That had to be it. Then he'd come back with food.