Chapter Text
"You're replacing me with a fish!?"
Power's voice cracked halfway through the sentence, her usual swagger was once again hurt by human caprice. She stood with a loud stomp that rattled the very foundations of Makima's impeccably polished office.
"AH-!" She shut herself, immediately regretting talking. Hiding her mouth in fear behind her hands with a slap.
Her fatter of attitude caused Makima's serene smile to falter by a hair's breadth, Denji's bored frown to deepen into a grimace, and Beam's perpetually ecstatic, eyeless face to twitch with a tremor of… well, more still happiness for some reason. Two pairs of devil eyes, one calculating, one exasperated, swiveled to impale her with their attention. Those and whatever Beam uses as eyes.
She had, in a manner most unbefitting a fiend of her caliber, loudly and quite impudently, spoken against a decree issued by the formidable Makima.
Or, in more fitting: dumbass fiend had loudly spoken against a Makima decision…! SHIT.
Makima's slow blink felt worse than any wound Power had taken in battle, like she was being filed away in a cabinet labeled irrelevant, weak and inferior. Her alongside the other countless shattered dreams of lesser devils. She didn't even get the dignity of a verbal dismissal, just silence, punctuated by Beam's happy tail thumping against the floorboards.
"Do you have any objections, Power?" Makima asked with that smile and pose so engrained in her terror stricken mind. The all-knowing eyes, the perfectly symmetrical, maddeningly serene smile, and the posture of her arms clasped behind her back. Signaling a silent declaration that anything Power could ever conceive or think would so much as ripple the placid surface of Makima’s unyielding plans. Powerless, indeed, before such almighty dominion.
To such ignominy had the glorious Blood Devil fallen!
Power's fingers twitched against her thighs, still warm from the adrenaline of her outburst. The silence stretched like a noose. Why had she done that? Makima could peel her apart with a glance, could make her organs remember they were just meat, so why had her stupid mouth run ahead of her survival instincts?
“I-I can behave perfectly, pray tell…” Power stammered, trying to maintain her elegant language.
'Tis a matter of survival, too, one must consider! Fleeing, nay, tactically retreating! Fleeing and choosing to give up on some dignity can be the most brave thing one can do. Meowy, her loyal companion, would agree to the fact, even her cat would run away at the sight of the dangers of a cleansing bath. Truly an act only the bearer of the 500 IQ brain can perform.
But Denji the traitor had the intestinal fortitude (guts) to offer away such a caring partner to Makima without wearing any second thought.
As beautiful her new and pointy extra horns decorated her head, Power could conclude the new fortitude and strength that came with them would make even Makima try and shackle her to their level. “Chicken out” to her truly fearful potential.
Topknot and Denji would not be able to live their stupid human lives if their strength did not fill a millionth of hers. An annoying sense of jealousy and envy towards her would disturb their boring everyday life. But…
But I could not bear to make Denji suffer with such an incompetent new buddy!
“Can you, really, be a good girl Power?” Makima's voice, smooth as polished bone, digged deeper.
“Y-yes. I can, indeed, be a good girl if it pleases thee” Power conceded, her shoulders slumping in a gesture of profound, if temporary, defeat.
And so, the once mighty Blood Fiend, a creature of boundless ego and devastating power, was reduced to yet another of Makima's obedient dogs, her tail metaphorically tucked between her legs.
“You frickin asshole! Can look but ya can't touch! Get off me!” Denji barked, swatting wildly at Beam, who was attempting to nuzzle his arm with alarming enthusiasm.
“Lord Chainsaw is the strongest of them all! Such an honor for Beam to see him again!" Beam gurgled, it annoyed Power too.
After being unceremoniously dragged from her humble abode, suffering the grievous indignity of having Meowy snatched from her loving clutches, and then forcefully driven to Makima's lair of fear, (her private P.S. office) a place where joy went to die. Power realized she was always treated with a lack of respect that grated upon her very essence.
By now she should already know that her highly honed skills for devil hunting that she humbly offers were not appreciated. Despite that, she did believe that proving her utility and professional service to the humans was neither necessary nor important to herself.
There was no need to prove herself to these peons, prove that Power is indeed the best of them all. There was no need to showcase the obvious against the mortals.
At least that was until learning the fact that this Shark fiend called Denji of all people, greatest, badassest and Lord Chainsaw. A noun that has not been pointed to herself in what all of her non-delusional brain could remember.
At least that was until learning that there was a risk of Denji gaining a different buddy than herself.
At least that was until a moment ago, now she needs to prove to these stupid mortals what she truly is made of.
The thinking hum of Makima filled the inside of the desk she lowered her head on. That humming sound of Makima's thinking should be such a thing a devil could take form of itself, Power thought, fearful.
Makima closed her eyes, tilted her head and raised a hand to her chin as an idea came to be. The smile popped out again as Power's whole body trembled and sweaty hands and fingers ingressed on her mouth in fear.
"I can't have such a dangerous blood fiend interfering with Denji's duties," Makima said, as if announcing the weather. "But I suppose... if she could prove herself able to wear a decent composure with her buddies .." Her unblinking gaze locked onto her like a scientist observing a pinned insect. “Then there wouldn't be a need to drain your blood, Power”
Power's horns scraped against the underside of the desk as her head jerked up.
Across the room, Denji paled visibly, fingers scratching the side of his shoulder as he muttered, "Oh come on, she always runs away, would rather a heck more working alone…”
Makima's fingers tapped once against the desk, a sound like a judge's gavel. "Denji," she said, and the way his spine snapped straight would've been comical if Power wasn't busy calculating how many of Beam's teeth she could shatter before he got his jaws around her throat. Taking measures against future altercations. "You Denji, will take both of them as buddies. Consider it... team building”
“Say what?! There's no way in hell I can deal with both these freaks same time! Power already tries to kill me, and this one looks like he could eat me whole too!” Denji exclaimed, throwing his pointing fingers insultingly at the fiends.
“Liar! I do not engage in such nefarious deeds!” "Would never my Lord! Beam's not worthy enough to eat your flesh!" Both fiends shrieked in outrage.
"That is correct, thou pesky pond fish! Only I am worthy of Denji's precious blood, for I have tasted it out!" Power declared, puffing out her chest.
“Beam can serve Lord chainsaw nicely too! Can be nice to him! I deserve that too…" Beam pleaded, his gills flaring with distress.
"Ha! I have siphoned copious quantities of Denji's blood whilst he lay in slumber! And he hath even fondled my most magnificent breasts!" Power boasted, a triumphant, utterly inappropriate, grin spreading across her face.
“B-but only Beam can show Lord Chainsaw’s true power!" he gurgled, and Power's stomach twisted at the reverence in his voice, reverence that should be hers alone. Denji groaned, dragging his hands down his face hard enough to leave red streaks
Power's nostrils flared as she leaned across the desk, nearly skewering a stack of Makima's paperwork. "Listen here, you overgrown bath toy," she sneered, jabbing a finger at Beam's dorsal fin. "Your entire evolutionary purpose was to become fish sticks, yet here you are, pretending to be a hunter? Your Lord Chainsaw would rather be paired up with a poop devil than with you!”
"Grrrr… Beam can't, can't bite head off another follower…!” Beam whispered and his jagged teeth clinked together as his gills fluttered in distress.
Makima's fingers laced together, her chin resting atop them as if watching a particularly interesting movie scene. "Seems you both are on the same wavelength," she mused, the corners of her lips curling higher. "So then, can you cooperate, Power?”
Power spun on her heel toward Makima, her jagged grin so wide her gums showed. "Of course! The great Power shall demonstrate impeccable teamwork!"
Meowy had taken his sweet damn time to take the order of her requests of joining her to bed. Instead of answering her call, she preferred to purr a few more seconds to Denji's grasp and a few more to leave Aki's room, which Meowy had found interesting lately.
She flopped face-first onto Aki's borrowed mattress, exhaling sharply through her nose. The sheets smelled like detergent and something faintly metallic, probably from the last time she'd nicked herself or ate a bird she brought in secret. But even that scent was faint thanks to Aki’s meticulous and suffocating cleaning.
“How were you even able to trash a room in just a single day off?! Say thanks I just don't tie all your limbs together! You–!” She ignored the human cries of Topknot.
Makima's presence still prickled at the base of her skull, a weight pressing down, cold and stupidly heavy it even tired her up. Her words would keep on filling the quiet apartment if it wasn't thanks to Meowy's purring.
This human society, with its baffling hierarchies, its unspoken rules of control and subjugation. Worst part, Makima played on it, and caged Power in the ever damnable bottom of that. That felt utterly nonsensical to her, a chaotic jumble that defied the elegant, brutal simplicity of devil strength and primal ranking.
How dared Aki attack her sanctuary, her and Meowy’s room, without her explicit, albeit unstated, supervision?
He had purged it, scrubbed it clean of every glorious, fitting trace of a lair. No crimson marks on the walls, vibrant declarations of her artistic genius. No delicious, half-eaten scraps on the floor, waiting patiently for a second bite. And worst of all, no rich, layered scent of a true, untamed devil’s aroma, the very essence of what made a place feel like a home. It was sterile, empty, devoid of her magnificent self.
Denji, the traitorous imbecile, had chosen Makima over her, venturing out on some insipid date to the cinemas all day. He'd abandoned her, leaving her trapped within the confines of this pathetic apartment, reduced to pacing like a caged beast, watching through the window as insignificant mortals scurried past.
No glorious patrolling, no thrilling hunt for blood to be fed, for fiends like her were deemed unfit to patrol without a human's leash. Aki and the Angel Devil were out there. Kobeni and Violence, even they were granted the freedom of the streets. But Beam and Power? Stuck. Useless, leashed to a tree until their owner came back.
At least the stupid fish got the correct treatment and was shackled inside the devil containment center. Ha!
Aki, with his infuriating "stick up his asshole", ruined everything he touched, and Denji, that sniveling worm, merely laughed at the reprisals she endured.
Even Meowy, her supposed familiar, had recently failed her, displaying a shocking lack of absolute, unwavering loyalty as well.
Such utter annoyance. Such profound, simmering resentment. It hurt a bit. It did more than…
Sleep came easy to her, a sudden, merciful plunge into darkness. One moment, the ceiling fan’s lazy, rhythmic whir. Then, the coppery scent of blood filled the grass beneath her bare feet, her red paws.
Above her, the sky wasn't sky at all. Doors stretched in every direction, reaching till her eyes couldn't catch on the horizon. Doors that could feel claustrophobic if only a few feet lower, ones that could house millions of devils. This was home. Before contracts, before fragile human skin.
This was hell. A memory of it.
Power doesn't remember this place. But her blood does.
The bloody grass flattened beneath her claws as she surged forward, each stride sending up sprays of warm droplets that shined as she ran on all four legs. The air thick with the iron scent, and the color of the crushed flowers. She could feel the old power running through her veins. Not the borrowed, constrained strength of a fiend’s body, but the raw, untamed current that had once made lesser devils scatter at the mere tremor of her approach.
The wind smelled like opened veins and something sweet underneath. It was soothing, a fix to her shaken soul. She would kill for all her dreams to be like this, every single night. Not the stupid, suffocating nightmares of Makima’s orders she had to hear like a broken record when sleeping.
Taking in the relentless pulse of her own power vibrating through her open ribs. Her true devil form actually fitting for the president even of hell. Her six limbs, her red cat-like tail, a magnificent, flowing mane that whipped in the breeze, and her joyful, big circular eyes with their distinctive cross-like pupils. Following an unknown but familiar blur on the horizon hills that she was happy to chase and appreciate.
Hah– VRROOMMM
The blur fit into a silhouette of five chainsaws, too familiar somehow. The long umbilical cord red scarf flickered between the swaying doors above, leaving a trail of split-open bodies in its way.
Her feet moved towards the carnage through the meaty thickets. The path was a grotesque trail of half-eaten devils, their limbs still twitching as thick, colorful blood painted the green hills.
She followed without thinking, her paws, claws and cat tail slapping against the gore-slick ground. The air vibrated with the echo of a chainsaw’s snarl, a sound that wasn’t just noise but a call she doesn't quite get yet. The corpses grew fresher as she ran, their wounds steaming, their eyes still wide with terror. Some were eaten whole. Power’s breath hitched, not in fear, but in something she doesn't remember anymore.
The figure ahead blurred at the edges, its outline dissolving into the haze of blood-mist rising from the ground. She caught flashes of serrated edges. The silhouette didn’t turn, and didn't acknowledge her. It didn’t need to. Power was just another witness.
She turned her head slightly, taking note of the small number of other devils. The ones she could picture were shark, angel and spider. The other devils, in their varied and grotesque forms, in the same mesmerized way she did, followed the black blur and the guttural roar of that one engine.
To witness in awe, to grant him blood, to follow his trials of utterly undevil-like performances. See how he does what no other devil does. Like he doesn't enjoy following the devil instinct.
Power can't remember why she follows him, but as that one devil threw four chains out of his arms and grappled somewhere, she–
She woke up.
Slowly, her eyes opened in the middle of the night. Her interrupted slumber did not annoy her this time, usually a cause of understandable rage, held no annoyance. No big explosion when waking up, instead she stood hugging Meowy with only her eyes slightly opened.
All thanks to the warm tickles, the lingering echoes of soothing emotions from the dream. A strange, serene calm that fell down her horns, a quiet reasonability. It had been a sweet dream.
Already, the details of the dream began to be forgotten. Yet, the feelings remained. It was like a shot of freedom, a small taste of the belonging that resonated deep within her blood. The profound understanding of a kinship she couldn't articulate, a connection to something. At least for a sweet bit. A small bite.
So sweet, that when her eyes opened for a fleeting moment, catching the sight of the Shark Fiend swimming silently around her room, only to disappear with a ripple beneath the floorboards, she paid it no mind.
The intrusion of a mortal enemy like the guppy fish idiot, woul be a big trigger for a bloody attack and a shower of curses, but it barely registered. The lingering warmth of Hell’s embrace was too potent, too comforting. With a soft, almost contented sigh, Power drifted back into the waiting arms of sleep, hoping for another taste of her forgotten, glorious past.
How strange.
Denji's left eye twitched slightly as he shoveled scrambled eggs into his mouth with the grace of a starved raccoon. Only for him to lick the plate clean with a shining grin.
Power ate at small takes while holding a massive blood fork she created with her renewed devil powers. She could fit the whole fridge in it but she refused to throw the weapon away.
Across the tiny kitchen table, Aki watched this display with the same resigned exhaustion of a man who'd long since accepted that hell was real and he was currently living in it
But there were some noticeable changes.
Since Denji took the day off alongside Makima and came back home at night, Denji was cooperative and eager to work and even help Aki with house work. Aki assumed it was a puberty deal but he was curious to know if that's really what's going on. And if Makima was in some way at fault.
And truly, if only Power hadn't insisted on chirping like a particularly obnoxious parrot about Makima's scent clinging to Denji "like a common barnacle," Aki might not have been having this existential worry.
“TOPKNOT, I SHALL RECEIVE SECONDS. THAT WITH UTMOST INMEDIACY!"
"You have the table filled with dishes, go clean them off first and then I'll bring you more” Aki called.
“Urgh! Verily. We are in a precarious need of a diligent waiter! This chef's a nuisance in the serving of his food. My food shall not arrive at my mouth this late!" Power huffed, her blood fork clattering against the table.
“Wait, dude, aintcha the waiter if ya wait for the food long enough?" Denji mused.
“What?” Aki asks, genuinely dumbfounded.
“How utterly foolish Denji. Thou are but a mere human, how would you be capable of discerning the food's weight? Only a true weighter like me can achieve such feats.”
“Ohhh. Yeah, makes sense.”
“I shall host a weighters tournament and choose the winner for it may serve my only self with excellency. And KILL THE REST!”
Aki's eye twitched. He hasn’t slept in thirty-six hours, not since Power nailed his shoes to the ceiling with her blood weapons as a "prank". The blood nail was almost impossible to get rid off. The vein in his forehead pulsed like a live wire. "You two," he said, voice dangerously calm, "You better don't cause any problem on patrol. Or I swear—"
Power kicked her legs up onto the table, narrowly avoiding Denji's hands still aching for any leftovers. "Or what? You’ll yell more? Booooring." She licked butter off her fingers with exaggerated slowness, grinning as Denji pulled his tongue out.
"Or," Aki said, leaning forward until his shadow swallowed them both, "I’ll call the special Devil Containment Unit. They’ve got a cell with your names on it." He paused, thinking something that could scare them off, letting the silence stretch just long enough for Power’s smirk to falter. “The devil prison is not a nice place, you know. Devils cry begging for freedom there."
“Tch! I suppose I shall wear a momentarily leash” Devil prison sounds scary. I shall not permit myself to be further stripped of my glorious freedom!”
“Don'tcha worry ‘bout it dude. I have a heart! So I'll make sure Power doesn't stab no dude on my watch!” Aki sighed, rubbing his temples.
"You. You've been grinning like an idiot since you came home yesterday. Did something happen with Makima?” Denji froze mid-chew, eyes widening like a kid caught stealing candy. He swallowed hard, suddenly sitting up straighter.
"Ah..! Huh-uh… How did ya know?! Miss Makima asked me out on a date! We watched movies aaall day. She paid for everything, even got me extra butter on the popcorn." His grin returned, wider and dumber than before. He leaned back in his chair, lacing his fingers behind his head.
"She... what?" His voice came out tight. His gaze stayed locked on Denji "Tell me you're joking.”
“Is it not most obvious, Topknot? He did sacrifice himself to rid me of Makima’s vexing presence! His noble self did as I commanded, and promised me a more excellent, Makima-less day!” Power nodded sagely, as if she were the mastermind behind the entire affair.
Aki's grip tightened around the corner of the kitchen table, his knuckles turning white. He wasn't buying both idiots bullshit. Makima didn't do anything without a reason, and dating Denji made about as much sense as a shark eating cake. His mind raced through possibilities: was this some kind of test? A trap? Or did she actually see something in that idiot that he didn't?
Aki's stomach twisted. He pictured Makima's calm, calculating smile, the way she'd tilt her head just slightly when measuring someone up, and how he looked up at her skills. Them she tried to imagine what the fuck she saw in Denji's grease-stained hoodie and scrambled egg breath. Was this her idea of a joke?
Denji was underage, this was messed up, not funny.
“She went on a date with you...? Why?" Aki said, now worried. He hoped Denji mistook what happened in some way, if not, then he'll have to ask Makima in person. Denji just grinned wider, mistaking the glint in Aki’s eyes for envy.
"Dude, relax, I get it. She’s way outta your league. But hey, maybe you'll find a girl when—”
The slap echoed through the apartment before Denji even finished his sentence. Power's palm connecting with the back of Denji's head hard enough to send him face-first into the table. She still couldn't size her strength
"FOOL!" she cackled, grinning like a devil at Aki's twitching eye. "The human male reeks of mating rage! Observe how his nostrils flare like an enraged boar!”
"That is NOT what's going on! Denji, that's wrong!"
The attack on Denji's head did not go unpunished as they both began to retaliate with stronger attacks to each other. Power shrieked with laughter, grabbing a handful of Denji's hair and yanking hard, only for him to respond by shoving salad directly into her face.
Capital offense!
Eggs went flying as Power tackled Denji across the table, sending plates and chopsticks clattering to the floor.
“Cut it out, you morons!” Aki growled, before grabbing Denji by the collar and yanking him away from Power's incoming 5 feet long blood fork. Though his grip on Denji tightened just a little too much as the idiot grinned up at him, food smeared across his cheek like war paint.
“Miss Makima paid for my soda too, y’know. It was yummy! Gyahahaha!” Denji added, voice dripping with smugness. Aki twitched.
His fingers dug deeper into Denji’s collar, his other hand unconsciously reaching for a half-eaten piece of toast, then, with precision honed by what felt like years of dealing with bullshit, he jammed it straight into Denji’s laughing mouth. “Shut. Up.”
Power's cackling got louder, the sound ricocheting off the kitchen walls like a pinball machine. She clutched her stomach, tears of mirth streaming down her face as she laughed at both brawling like little kids. Now justice has been done and it is her turn to laugh at the silly inhabitants of her home.
"Ohhh, this is gold! The almighty topknot, undone by Denji of all creatures!" She wiped imaginary tears away with a flourish, kicking her legs like a child mid-tantrum. "Did Denji steal your chance to mate with the control freak? Is that why you're so mad you silly mortal?"
Aki's eye twitched harder, a vein pulsing dangerously at his temple as Power wheezed between gulps of air. Denji gagged on the toast, spitting crumbs everywhere as he wheezed.
“I wouldn't be so mad if you hadn't scribbled your name on our roof with your stupid weapons!”
Power shut up for a second and looked up at the ceiling. Traces of blood weapons scratching the ceiling spelled "POWER” her signature all over the apartment. She frowned.
"I did not!” Power’s fist came flying fast, unpredictable, and with absolutely zero regard for collateral damage as both boys scrambled backward in panicked sync. Denji yelped and ducked, but Aki was just a fraction too slow. But Denji received the shock wave of the punch, in more than one way.
POWER PUNCH
The city streets smelled like stale gasoline and the distant sizzle of burnt coffe, normal, familiar, boring. But Denji found himself weirdly noticing things today: the way sunlight bounced off a trash soda can (beautiful), the muffled laughter from a nearby group of girls(pretty), the sticky grip of Beam’s saliva-coated hand trying to drag him to eat rats (he punched him hard).
His chest did a weird, fluttery thing, like a trapped bird beating against his ribs. It intensified a shit ton as he recalled Makima’s impossibly soft hair pressed against that very spot. Her whisper confirming the impossible: He had a heart. The real deal, the beating fleshy organ. Pochita’s gift was not just a devil engine.
Denji had picked up a wallet from a granny. And instead of emptying it, instead of snagging the cash and tossing the empty thing into a gutter, he’d returned it. Only swiping a few hundred yen, just enough to be safe.
"Lord chainsaw doesn't steal?" Beam sniffed him loudly, curiosity wrinkling his fishy brow.
"No, dumbass," Denji muttered, rubbing his chest absently. "I just... dunno. Felt like shit when I thought about doing it.” then closing his eyes and smiling like a dumbass.
"Oi. Denji! BEHOLD MY PLUNDER!" The shriek, a banshee's delight laced with pure, unadulterated avarice, could only belong to only one creature. A stupid bloody one.
Despite the constant warnings, threats and ultimatums. No word or action seemed capable of penetrating Power’s magnificent, utterly deluded brain. The concept that her so-called "nefarious deeds" which she’d immediately lie about doing, of course, would end up sending her to a cage for contracts, the devil prison, was simply incomprehensible to her.
What made her heart so different from his for her to act so devilish?
He has saved her once, and Denji had started to believe that saving her again from being disposed as a devil would be too much of a debt. His heart has yet to achieve that level of kindness, that's what justified his lack of care for now.
Power’s triumphant shriek cut through his morally adept brain as she leapt from a nearby fire escape, landing in a crouch with the grace of a bigass falling anvil. As the pavement cracked with her fall a sweat fell off Denji as he remembered the strength of her punches again.
"Witness the fruits of my labor, peasant! While you grovel for crumbs of affection, I TAKE WHAT I DESERVE!” Her arms overflowed with stolen purses, some still clutched in the hands of screaming women she’d clearly ripped them from mid-stride. One particularly stubborn victim dangled from a clearly expensive strap, her shrieks harmonizing perfectly with Power’s maniacal laughter.
“Lord Chainsaw! Our comrade smells of adrenaline and leather goods! Most intriguing!" He chirped and circled the carnage, sniffing curiously at the loot. "Pretty things smell like salt and fear! Theft! Theft! Theft!"
Denji just sighed, rubbing his chest where Makima’s warmth was. He glared at Power’s growing pile of stolen goods, the dangling woman now kicking feebly against Power’s ribs. Then he walked away, ignoring Power.
"Can't seem to have a heart to share if these bastards got no heart at all" Denji murmured, gritting his teeth.
Beam drooled on a stolen handbag, his mind racing to each side, wondering if Chainsaw man would say yes or no to drinking his human form’s sweat in some insane fish logic. Power cackled as she shook a sobbing woman by the ankles to dislodge her grip. Normal shit. Denji wouldn't expect more.
But the moment he turned his back, the screams behind stopped dead. Power abandoning her spoils mid-laugh to chase after him, her boots kicking up dust. Her usual triumphant grin replaced by confusion.
"You! Denji!!" she barked, but the usual fire in her voice failed for a bit. Her eyes flickered between his face and his chest, as if trying to x-ray through his shirt to whatever phantom organ he kept rubbing. "You—you walked away! From my grand theft! Are your brain worms finally eating your common sense?!"
Denji didn’t even turn around, just kept walking with his hands shoved deep in his pockets, fingers curling around the few hundred-yen coins he’d stolen from the granny’s wallet. Power’s shadow loomed over him, elongated and spiked with her four horns like some kind of demonic fork.
The distant noise of police sirens cut through her, her little stunt had definitely been noticed.
Power’s ears twitched at the sound, her almighty crumbling faster than a city mouse in Beam’s drooling grip. “Denji!” she hissed, suddenly glued to his side like a noisy flea. Quickly, she ripped a chunk of blood from her own arm, molding it into a floppy, oversized hat that flopped down over her horns.
“Observe my cunning disguise! A mere human female now! Observe!” She jabbed a claw at her makeshift hat. The blood-hat flopped sideways with every panicked step as she pressed uncomfortably close to Denji's side.
"Cease your cowardly stride and validate my brilliant ruse!" she demanded through gritted teeth. Her claws kept snagging Denji's sleeve like a toddler afraid of getting lost. Beam shyly swam behind them, occasionally turning to sniff the air with exaggerated suspicion, as if he too were part of this and not just following Denji like a lovesick puppy.
Denji stiffened mid-step when Power suddenly grabbed his wrist with her usual bone-crushing grip.
"Why," she demanded, nostrils flaring as she leaned uncomfortably close, "Why does thou care so much about having this... heart?" She spat the word like it tasted bad as she studied Denji's face "You act wrong. Smell wrong. Running from good plunder like a sick dog. As if it were such a nefarious deed. Is this whole heart deal making you stupid?"
She grabbed his collar, tilting her head like a confused predator. Denji shoved her hands off with more force than necessary. Almost barking at her.
"That's exactly the point, dumbass." He jabbed a finger at his own chest, now Makima's chest "This thing makes me feel shit now, like, actual guilt when I rob people. It's frickin' annoying, but... kinda nice too." Power blinked at him like he'd just declared the sky was purple, her nose scrunching in disgust.
"What absolute, festering nonsense dribbles from that peasant maw of yours?” She leaned in, pressing her ear against his chest like she could hear the damn thing ticking. "Hmph. Still sounds like grinding gears to me.” She punched her own ribs, so strong that made Beam flinch. "See? Same!”
“That’s not the same,” he muttered, glancing down at Power's stupidly scrunched up face. “Yours just wants blood and the stupid devil shit. Mine’s... I dunno. Gets all tight and squisy when I see old ladies cross the street. I think.” He hoped, desperately, liked to believe. But Power, as always, was a wrecking ball to any of his joy.
“Weakness! Utter, pathetic, human weakness! Don't like it” She said, flicking his nose hard enough to make his eyes water.
"It just pretends to be human,squeaking out little "aww* noises when you see puppies, but really? It wants the same thing as mine” She bared her teeth . Denji watched her, frowning.
Miss Makima said he had it. But what heart did she really mean? He thought they were supposed to feel warm, not like a caged animal trying to chew its way out and tear the absolute shit out of others.
Hearts were supposed to mean he could love, and be loved by people because he was a good boy
They were supposed to mean he could feel things, not just the deliciousness of food or the squishiness of boobs, but the cheesy things that girls liked.
So they mattered. He wants to have one.
"I feel things, like the thrill of battle! The exquisite joy of ruining others happiness for my own! The nefarious deeds of mine are just an undeniable instinct that is incorrigible" She stomped the pavement, cracking the concrete. Beam nodded enthusiastically. "Yes! Hearts go " thump-thump" for violence! That’s why Lord Chainsaw rips devils apart so beautifully!"
Denji opened his mouth, then shut it. Power wasn’t wrong. He did love the visceral crunch of chainsaws through flesh, he did feel good when he made Aki feel jealous. But... that wasn’t all anymore. Now his chest also felt tight when stray dogs limped past, and his throat got weirdly thick when Makima smiled at him like he mattered. And the butterflies bullshit…
His uneducated brain thought it was only possible now cuz Makima told him so.
"Blood. Screams. The tears of others under your own tears of joy. You just dress it up in pretty words because you’re scared to admit you’re no better than us."
Denji’s hands clenched into fists at his sides, his nails biting into his palms. He wanted to argue,to scream that she was wrong, but the memory of Makima’s voice whispering "You have a heart, Denji" tangled with the visceral thrill he still felt when his chainsaws tore through flesh.
He remembered his own lunatic laughs. The times he’d enjoyed making devils suffer and tremble with fear when he stepped closer. The ones where he’d won over the assholes and laughed in their faces, feeling a pure, unadulterated happiness every damn time.
Power’s grin turned vicious as she watched his conflict play out on his face.
"See? You know I’m right," she crowed, spinning on her heel to kick a pebble into traffic. "You’re just too much of a coward to say it out loud."
Denji’s vision tunneled, Power’s mocking grin, Beam’s drooling excitement, even the distant wail of police sirens all blurring into white noise as something snapped inside him. Before he could think, his legs were moving, boots pounding against the pavement as he took off.
Whatever snapped, it stung his heart. Really, truly bad.
"Fine! You want fucking proof?!" he roared over his side. “I'll frickin show ya proof!”
You heartless assholes do whatever the hell you want! I won't be the one getting his ass dragged to devil prison!
Power whooped, missing the entire point, immediately surging after him with the feral glee of an unleashed dog, while Beam swam hissing about "glorious carnage in Lord Chainsaw's wake!"
Power threw her arms wide, as the wind whipped through her hair. "BEHOLD, MAKIMA! OUR TEAMWORK IS FLAWLESS!" she screamed at the uncaring sky, convinced the Control Devil was somehow watching this glorious display of camaraderie through a surveillance crow or some equally creepy shit.
“Yes! The peasant will finally understand!" she crowed, She punctuated this delusion by kicking a trash can hard enough to send it flying into a fire escape, the metal clanging and bouncing multiple times, echoing like a demented bell heralding her triumph.
"Of courseMakima will commend me for this! My brilliant leadership will tame Denji into proper behavior again!" Beam nodded so vigorously his gills flapped, splattering mucus across a fire escape. "Yes! Lady Power’s genius has united us in glorious—”
“SHUT UP STUPID GUPPY!” Power shrieked, stomping Beam’s head below the ground.
Denji ran directly to donate money to charity and fill his heart with good intentions. A wild-eyed, chainsaw-devil-hybrid in search of charitable deeds.
Power followed wearing blood sunglasses to accentuate her superiority and bully the lowlifes, with Beam taking a big spot there.
Their mission of "teamwork" and devil hearts about to unleash chaos upon the normal day.
This was definitely not going to be as easy of a mission Reze hoped it'd be.