6

Déjà Vu

Chapter 6: The First Cut

Denji doesn't go home.

The second he leaves the rooftop, he bolts. Fast. He doesn't stop to think, doesn't stop to breathe.

If Makima is controlling which version of reality gets to exist, then he has to do something she won't expect.

Something out of character.

He hops the train to the other side of the city, sits in the last car, hood up, head down. The world outside blurs past, too normal, too calm.

But is it?

How many times has she already reset the day without him noticing?

Denji swallows hard.

She's watching. She's always watching.

The train stops. He gets off. Wanders. No plans, no patterns, no destination. If Makima can see every possibility, then he just has to become unpredictable.

Hours pass. The sun starts to set.

And nothing happens.

No reset. No déjà vu creeping in.

Denji's stomach twists. Did he actually do it? Did he slip through the cracks?

And then—

"I was wondering how long you'd keep running."

Denji freezes.

Makima stands at the end of the alley, bathed in the setting sun. She looks serene. Like this moment has already played out a hundred times before.

Denji's pulse pounds. He clenches his fists. "How'd you find me?"

Makima steps forward, her smile soft. Too soft. "Denji. You're not hard to follow."

His breath catches.

"I don't need to reset the world to know what you'll do," she continues, stepping closer. "I don't need to predict you. Because no matter how much you struggle—"

She raises a hand.

Denji's body locks up.

His breath hitches. He can't move.

Makima's fingers curl slightly, and his knees hit the pavement hard.

"—you'll always end up right where I want you."

Denji grits his teeth. Tries to summon his chainsaws, but—nothing. Nothing.

Makima kneels in front of him, tilting her head. "You're trying so hard, Denji. But you don't understand."

She leans in. Close.

"I don't control time. I control you."

His vision blurs. Something heavy crashes down on his skull, pressing, suffocating—

Memories twist.

His mind folds in on itself.

Power's voice—loud, bragging about breakfast.

Aki's voice—quiet, thoughtful.

Himeno's laugh—no.

Himeno's voice doesn't exist.

Denji gasps, choking on air.

Makima watches with quiet amusement. "That's better."

She stands up, dusts off her coat, and smiles down at him like he's nothing more than a stray dog.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Denji."

And then—

She's gone.

Denji collapses forward, hands digging into the pavement, gasping.

He barely makes it to his feet. Barely stumbles his way out of the alley.

The sky is darker now. The city keeps moving, oblivious.

Denji grips his head. He has to get out.

But—

What if she's already erased the version of him that could?