Snowball Fight-Style Freakouts are a Specialty, You Must Try It

Everyone desires happiness. Denji was no exception, though his life had always been far removed from such a concept.

His mother died of a heart condition when he was very young, leaving him with few memories of maternal love and, ironically, inheriting her faulty heart. His father was even worse, a deadbeat who racked up insurmountable debt and showed Denji no affection before dying early himself.

Bad luck, resulting in orphaned status – that's how Denji had always seen it.

Everyone he met looked down on him, hated him, used him as a tool to make money, a target for exploitation… no one in the world loved him.

But then, things got better. First, he met Pochita, then Shoko… followed by Aki, Power, and even other friends.

He met people who genuinely cared for him, who wouldn't harm him.

And among all these friends and family, besides Pochita, now one with him, the most important was Shoko.

Shoko was the first person to buy him food, the first to buy him clothes, the first to hug him… Shoko introduced Denji to so many firsts, so many happy firsts, that whenever Denji thought about the beginning of his happy life, it always started with that girl, smiling at him in the gentle rain.

He absolutely had to protect her, even if it cost him his life. He'd kill anyone who hurt her—but what if the ones hurting her were his other family?

No one had taught Denji what to do in such a situation.

Standing in a dark alley, Denji stared blankly at the scene before him, watching Shoko, shielding him, being brutally dismembered by Public Safety Devil Hunters.

Head, limbs… finally, only her heart remained, placed in a small box.

Instinctively, Denji reached for the cord on his chest, wanting to transform into Chainsaw Man and stop the carnage. But his hand grasped only air. Then he remembered, this was just a memory. That summer night, Shoko had gone out to buy a lighter for his birthday, and never returned.

He'd gone looking for her, and witnessed this…

It had already happened. He couldn't change it.

And among those committing this atrocity, Denji saw a familiar figure – Aki Hayakawa.

Aki simply stood there, watching Shoko being cut apart, indifferent.

Denji didn't know how to react. He felt a surge of anger, then sadness, finally settling into a profound sense of helplessness.

What should he do? Should he kill Aki to avenge Shoko?

Shoko wasn't dead now. And back then, Aki hadn't been that close to Shoko. As a Public Safety Devil Hunter, he had a duty to eliminate devils, including Shoko… Denji tried to convince himself, but he couldn't.

Recalling all his memories, Denji could no longer deceive himself. Aki's contract, the one that allowed him to transfer the price of using his devil powers, was undoubtedly with Shoko. That explained why, when they'd lived together, she was often covered in wounds.

Aki had been using Shoko as a tool to pay the price for his powers…

That's why Aki had been acting so strangely, why he hadn't told Denji he knew Shoko.

But what should he do? Should he really kill Aki?

He couldn't, could he?

Aki was also his precious family. He couldn't hurt him… could he?

"Can't you kill family?"

Denji heard a whisper in his ear, guiding him to turn around, to face the scene that had shifted behind him.

A filthy shack, littered with cigarette butts, empty bottles, and newspapers—and in the middle, the body of a familiar man, long dead.

Ah, his old man.

Why had he forgotten this too? He'd killed him with his own hands.

So, he'd already committed such a heinous crime, the murder of his own father.

So, killing Aki wouldn't be a problem. He was scum, after all.

"…No, I can't."

Denji trembled. No matter what, he couldn't bring himself to hurt Aki. "Shoko is still alive now, and she and Aki get along well… I can't kill him just because of what he did in the past. He must be reflecting on his actions…"

"Making me kill Aki… I can't do that!"

Screaming with all his might, Denji desperately rejected the choice before him.

"Can't I just pretend it never happened? Can't I just pretend I don't know anything?!"

Many people spend their lives seeking the truth, but now, the truth only brought Denji pain. If he could, he'd wish he'd never remembered any of this.

But it had happened. He didn't understand why, but he had to face it.

Denji felt like a lost child, scared and confused, knowing he had to do something, but unsure what.

If only he could talk to someone…

"…Power?"

Denji looked blankly at the doll that had appeared beside him. The golden hair, the red horns, unmistakably Power.

Power was a bit dense, but she'd understand, wouldn't she? If he talked to her…

Denji reached for the doll, intending to pick it up.

"Huh?"

But as he did, the doll's upper and lower halves separated. He only picked up the head. And then, the entire doll crumbled in his hand, disintegrating into a pile of fluff.

"Defective product…"

Then he'd ask someone else.

Some unseen force compelled Denji to look at the other dolls scattered around him, all modeled after his friends and family.

He'd talk to the owner of the best-quality doll.

"Himeno-senpai and Reze aren't doing so well either…"

Their dolls, when picked up, left only an eyepatch and half a bomb.

"Beam's isn't much better."

The large doll shattered into pieces at his touch.

"Makima's doll…"

Ah, this one was well-made.

Looking at Makima's doll in his hand, Denji paused. It was the only one that hadn't broken. But…

"It's so… dirty."

Makima's doll was covered in red stains and tears, as if it had been battered and bruised, a disturbing sight.

And Makima was kind of his rival for Shoko's affections. He'd rather ask someone else first…

With that thought, Denji tossed Makima's doll aside, looking at the last two – Aki and Shoko.

Aki's doll seemed poised to strike Shoko's.

Seeing this, Denji's anger flared. Aki had bullied Shoko enough in reality, now his doll was bullying her?!

Without hesitation, Denji grabbed Aki's doll by the head, ripping it in two and tossing it aside.

But now, only Shoko's doll remained.

…Would her doll break too?

"What are you thinking about?"

"I'm worried Shoko's doll might also—Shoko?!"

Denji realized something was amiss. He turned, startled. Standing beside him, asking him that question, was Shoko herself.

He'd planned to ask the owner of the unbroken doll for advice, but Shoko herself was here. Whether her doll broke was…

Denji looked down. The scattered doll fragments were gone.

The surroundings had changed again. The lights were back on. He was back in the small shack they'd shared.

Shoko's expression was calm, unlike her usual cheerful smile. There was no hint of fear or anger. She looked as if she were listening to a familiar fairytale, her heart untouched.