5

Déjà Vu

Chapter 5: The Same Story, Told Again

Denji wakes up, and the world is wrong.

The morning light seeps through the curtains at the exact same angle. Power is yelling about breakfast, her voice following the same rhythm as yesterday—no, the day before that.

Aki stands by the sink, cigarette burning between his fingers.

Denji has seen this all before.

Because it has already happened.

He grips the edge of the table, breathing slow, trying to ground himself. Maybe if he blinks hard enough, shakes his head fast enough, the loop will break.

It doesn't.

Because this isn't just happening to him.

It's happening to the world.

At HQ, Kishibe is waiting for him.

The old man watches Denji with tired eyes, like he knows exactly what he's about to say.

Maybe he does. Maybe this conversation has happened before, too.

Denji leans against the wall, voice tight.

"How many times?"

Kishibe doesn't ask what he means. He just takes a slow drag from his cigarette.

"More than you can count."

Denji's fingers twitch.

"Is there a way out?"

Kishibe exhales. "If there was, I wouldn't still be here."

Denji's throat tightens.

"So what?" he mutters. "I just keep reliving this bullshit forever?"

Kishibe's gaze is heavy.

"Not forever."

Denji swallows.

"Then until when?"

Kishibe crushes his cigarette against the wall, his expression unreadable.

"Until she gets bored."

Makima.

Denji's breath catches.

She isn't just looping the world.

She's deciding when it loops.

She's been resetting everything—but only when she wants to.

Denji clenches his fists.

"So if I can make her lose interest—"

Kishibe shakes his head.

"That's the problem. She won't."

Makima stands at the top of a rooftop, staring down at the city like a god overlooking her domain.

She knows Denji is watching her.

She always knows.

"You're fighting something that isn't meant to be fought," she says without turning around.

Denji steps forward. His fingers twitch, itching to summon his chainsaws.

But he doesn't. Not yet.

"I know what you're doing," he says. His voice is hoarse. "I know you're the one making everything repeat."

Makima finally turns. Her smile is gentle.

Too gentle.

"That's not quite right," she says.

Denji's pulse pounds in his ears.

"I'm not making things repeat," Makima continues, stepping closer.

"I'm deciding which version of the world is worth keeping."

Denji's breath catches.

She isn't just looping time.

She's curating reality.

Choosing which events stay, which people remain, which memories survive.

And the worst part?

Denji knows she's already erased people before.

Himeno.

Makima tilts her head.

"What's wrong?"

Denji forces himself to breathe.

He has to get out.

But the question is—

If he escapes, will there be anything left of him to save?