Chapter Text
"Hey… Pochita." His best friend, Denji, called out to him one day after a long moment of deep thought. "I might die one day, y'know? Working as a devil hunter… it's dangerous work. If I die, you'll be my biggest regret."
His best friend reached out to him, stroking his orange fur with loving care.
"If I die, you could starve to death, or get killed by some other devil hunter," Denji continued. "I heard that devils can sometimes take over the bodies of dead humans. If you're of 'em… if I die and end up six feet under, I don't think even the Yakuza I owe money too would care if my body up and disappears."
Denji gave him a wide, toothy smile.
"You could skip this town, and live the normal life we've always dreamed of." Denji said, crouching down. Pochita felt the making of a contract as Denji picked him up, pressing his small rotund body against his chest for a tight hug.
"When I die, please, take over my body." Denji plead. "I want you to live a normal life, and die a normal death."
Pochita wished he could say something in response. To assure Denji that it will be he who lives the normal life he always wanted. That it would be him who finally gets to hug a girl, and be able to have food every day. Steak for every dinner. Desert for breakfast. And so, so much more. It was what he deserved.
"Woof!" Was all he could say in the moment.
If it came down to it. Pochita would grant his best friends dying request. But he would give him his heart, not take his body.
That… that was what he wanted to do…
But it was too late…
The Yakuza had turned themselves into devil zombies, under the command of the Zombie Devil. In return for the power of rotting immortality, they would become soldiers for the Zombie Devil, and they would kill all devil hunters. Unfortunately for Denji, he was a devil hunter, and made his living as one. It was all he could do to earn enough money to feed both himself and him over the course of their time spent together. Four, long years, they worked together. Making a living, surviving off of sliced bread, and living on that ran down shack they had no other choice but to call home.
It was a happy life.
That happy life was ruined when Denji and he were sliced and diced into pieces, and tossed into the dumpster like trash.
Pochita was barely clinging to life, even as a dog bisected into two, and with several stab wounds. But eventually, a trickle of Denji's blood managed to drip into his mouth. Slowly, but surely, Pochita's stab wounds began to stitch closed. The chain of a chainsaw linked his halves together, connecting them back, and mending over time. Pochita slowly felt his heart begin to beat again, and he opened his eyes.
"Grrrr…" He growled, remembering the betrayal… no, he couldn't even call it that. He always knew what those men were. Cowardly wolves in human skin. The first chance they got, they sacrificed their entire being and souls for a poultry gain in power and for something as pitiful as agelessness. The Hero of Hell knew; Immortality was not a blessing, but a curse. Devils who died only came back again and again, only to cause mayhem and chaos, and die again. It was an endless cycle of violence. It was all he could do to try and hold it all together, and challenge even the Four Horseman themselves to keep the devils at bay, from invading the realm of the humans.
That wasn't important right now, however.
Denji was his priority.
"Mrrhm…" Pochita whined as he climbed onto what remained of Denji's torso. His head was severed from his body, his limbs cut into several pieces and thrown haphazardly into the dumpster. Pochita focused, connecting his little legs into his best friend's chest, and extended his chains throughout his body. The chains sprouted out from all of the stumps that were left, where his legs, arms, and head were missing. Piece by piece, Pochita began putting his friend back together.
He was still weak, however, and it took more time than he would have liked. Over time, though, Pochita was eventually able to put his friends body back together, and began the process of giving him his heart so that he could come back to life.
But… But…
Denji wasn't there anymore
When a human dies, their souls linger within their corpse for an unknown amount of time. Pochita had planned to latch on to Denji's lingering soul, and pull him back so he could sacrifice his own being and give him his heart. But Denji's soul… he'd been dead for too long. Pochita couldn't reach him, he couldn't call his friend back, he couldn't give him his heart.
Denji was… gone…
Pochita's small, round eyes began to leak tears. He whined, and barked at Denji's body, in a desperate attempt to bring him back. He forced his heart to beat, squeezing his chains around the organ delicately to pump blood back through his friends body. But… it was just no use. Denji had been dead for too long, and he was… he was…
He was too late.
Pochita released a long, anguished howl.
Denji was his first friend, his only friend. There was no one else, no other devil, no one. In Hell, Pochita was the 'Hero of Hell', a monster known only for the chaos he could cause and the reality breaking ability he had to erase devils from all history and existence, killing the very concepts they represented. On earth, in his reduced form, he was just like any other devil. Just before he first met Denji at the grave of his father, Pochita had been attacked by a devil hunter, and was barely able to escape with his life. Yet, despite being a devil, Denji quickly came to his aid. Giving him his own blood, and forming a contract with him. The contract? Keep each other safe…
Pochita failed to keep his friend safe…
"Don't be afraid to do it, alright?" Denji's voice called to him in the quiet darkness of the dumpster. Pochita's head perked up with hope, and he looked at his friends face. Suddenly, he was smiling, even in death. "I told you, didn't I? This would happen some day. C'mon man, you can do it. Take my body, and live the normal life I always dreamed of."
Denji wasn't speaking, but Pochita heard his voice in his mind.
"This was the contract we made," Denji reminded him. "When I die, my body is yours. I willingly give it to you. So, c'mon, Pochita…"
Pochita felt his friends arms reach around his little body, hugging him tightly as he always did when they were in their shed.
"Become one with me."
Pochita sniffled.
"Okay, Denji." Pochita accepted his friends dying request, the little lingering wisps of his soul finally leaving his body, and without a doubt, ascending to heaven. "Let's do it. Together."
Pochita began entering his best friends body.
"Let's become Chainsaw Fiend together."
A loud metallic clang echoed around the warehouse.
The zombies of the Zombie Devil all turned at once to face this new threat.
What they saw, was a blonde teenager… that was what he appeared as, anyway.
The boy said nothing, his head slowly rose, revealing a vicious scowl, and glowing, red-orange eyes. There was a single ring surrounding the orange pupil, in the shape of a hollow, jagged saw blade. The red color ended at the edges before breaking into the normal white sclera. The stab wounds on his body stitched closed and healed without even leaving a scar. His limbs reattached, behaving much in the same way. The boy regenerated perfectly. No, he was even better than perfect. The boy's body was thin, malnourished, and underweight just a short time ago. But as the boy raised his head, and stepped out of the dumpster with a heavy thud, his body seemed to have grown nearly twice in size. His skin was no longer tight against his ribcage. His muscles were more profound, and larger. He seemed to have gotten taller, as if the boy he once was aged a few years to enter his physical prime. His body filled out, no overly large, but dense and lean. The biggest indicator of his new nature came in the form of four, long, running chainsaw blades. Sprouting out of the boy's arm and also out the elbow. One of his intestines shot out of it's belly, and reached up to wrap around his neck like a meaty flesh scarf. The boy let out a deep exhale, which came out in a puff of black smoke.
"What the Hell is this?" The Zombie Devils grotesque form spoke through its many contorted mouths. "Did that little devil take over that devil hunters body? Oh well, my quarrel is not with my own kind." It gestured with its many faces. "Go on and get out of here, fiend. I have devil hunters to-"
RNNNNNGRGRGRGRGRGRGR
The devil was silenced as the sounds of chainsaw's revving echoed throughout the abandoned warehouse.
"You…" The fiend's voice was the same as Denji's, although now it was filled with much more vitriol. It was still getting used to it's new body, but it wasn't all that different from the body it once had in Hell. "You killed Denji… you killed my best friend." It growled out, a ferocious scowl causing its face to wrinkle and contort.
"I will erase you from existence." The Chainsaw Fiend declared. "That is the only way to punish you for your wretched crime against my friend."
The Zombie Devil didn't get a chance to respond before the Chainsaw Fiend shot forward in a blur of red and black smoke. Chainsaw's whirled and spun, ripped and teared, the several dozens of zombies that the Zombie Devil created with the members of the Yakuza were slaughtered in mere seconds. Before the heads of the Yakuza even hit the ground, before the zombies even realized what was happening, it was already too late. The Zombie Devil itself didn't even know what happened, until suddenly several of his limbs fell from its body, causing a geyser of blood to explode out in every which direction.
"AIEEEEEE!" The devil screeched. "N-No, this can't be!" The Zombie Devil fell onto it's front, panic clear in its many rotting eyes. "Y-You-Y-You can't be him! There's simply no way!"
The Chainsaw Fiend was covered in blood. He slowly began walking toward the downed devil, his red eyes glowing in the darkness. The warehouse was covered in red. In red, and with the rotted remains of zombies. The smell itself could infect and kill a human. But this fiend… this monster… this… this…
"That little dog couldn't have been the Hero of Hell!" The Zombie Devil cried. "P-Please! Have mercy! I didn't know, I didn't know it was-"
"I am going to cut you." The Chainsaw Fiend's declaration cut off it's words. "I am going to rip and tear at your body until you're a crying, screaming mess. I am going to feed you the blood of your own creations, and when you regenerate, I am going to do it again."
RNNNGRGRGRGRGRGRGRGR
"I don't know when I'll stop." The fiend continued. "I will make this last as long as possible. Until I get bored, or until I deem that you have paid for your sin against me. The latter won't happen. But I like the brief flash of hope you had in your eyes."
RNNNGRGRGRGRGRGRGRGR
"You could never hope to redeem yourself."
RNNNGRGRGRGRGRGRGRGR
"But that's okay."
RNNNGRGRGRGRGRGRGR
"Because when I decide that you've had enough, I'm going to eat you." The fiend stopped right in front of the Zombie Devil's limbless, weakened body. "I will erase you from all worlds, and you will spend the rest of eternity locked away in the Hell of my stomach. That is more than what you deserve. You should thank me. It is an honor to have angered me so that I deem you worthy of such a fate."
"N-No, please!" The Zombie Devil gurgled as the fiend retracted the chainsaw's from one arm, and force fed it the blood that lingered on its body from the other zombies. "Have mercy! Just kill me, kill me, please!"
The Chainsaw Fiend would not grant it that small mercy.
For the next couple of hours, the Chainsaw Fiend slowly cut apart the Zombie Devil, and it was helpless to stop him. Every time it got close to death, the fiend would force feed it more blood, and ripped it apart all over again. This happened again and again, and the fiend did not tire, it did not get bored. It simply slashed, ripped, cut, and chewed again, and again, and again. This went on for so long that the sun began to go down, and the fiend was satisfied with the punishment the Zombie Devil deserved. It did not even protest or scream in pain as the fiend sat down in a pool of its own blood and organs, and used it's razor sharp shark-like teeth to begin biting off chunks of flesh and devouring the devil while it still lived. Piece by piece, the fiend felt the devil's existence begin to fade away from the know history and existence. It took a much longer time, this way. In it's true form, the Chainsaw Devil was able to devour devils in mere moments. In it's form as a fiend, it actually needed to sit down and rely on the body's own enhanced metabolism to digest the devil as it ate.
Over the course of several hours, the Chainsaw Fiend continued to eat the Zombie Devil piece by piece. The dumpster where Denji died in was used to relieve himself, but it never took long for the fiend to grow hungry again. Eventually, there was only just a few pieces remaining of the Zombie Devil to devour. The job was almost done.
The morning light of the sunrise entered the warehouse, though the fiend did not react. It's enhanced smell already knew that two humans, and a devil disguised as a human, were getting close to this place. The Chainsaw Fiend looked over one shoulder, one of his arms was still covered in sprouted chainsaw's, while its free hand reached out to grab the final piece of the Zombie Devil.
The two humans stared at him with shock. They entered fighting stances, but the red haired devil disguised as a human woman raised a hand and silently ordered them to stand down.
"I finally found you." The woman said, audible mirth could be heard in her voice. Her golden, ringed eyes stared at him with an idolizing gaze. Her hands intertwined in front of her, her hands shaking with excitement as she peered at him. "It's been a long time, Chainsaw Man. You have no idea the lengths I had to go through to find you again."
"Is that right?" The Chainsaw Man queried between chews. "Am I supposed to know who you are?"
"Who am-" The woman's eyes widened with hurt. "Do you… do you not recognize me?"
The Chainsaw Fiend stood up as it swallowed the last piece of the Zombie Devil. His red, glowing eyes, stared into those golden ringed orbs. He kept one of his arms covered in chainsaw's, while the other one pressed against his hip. The fiend gave the red haired woman an up-down. But with a shrug, he didn't feel very impressed.
"Why should I?" The fiend asked, narrowing his eyes at her. "Who are you? Why are you here? You're dressed as a devil hunter, are you here to kill me?"
"No," The woman replied quickly, almost instantly. "Of course not." She sighed, her eyes lowering in a sort of disappointing fashion. "You can call me Makima. I am the head of Special Division 4, a sect of Public Safety."
The fiend scrunched its brow suspiciously.
"Human's made a devil into the head of one of their Public Safety Divisions?"
RNNNGRGRGRGR
"Please, there's no need for that." Makima said, raising her hands in an effort to de-escalate. "I am not here to hurt you. Far from it. In fact, I want to save you."
"Save me?" The fiend relaxed a little, but kept his guard up. "How? I only want to live a normal life, and die a normal death. That was the deal I made with the owner of this body."
"You… you what?" Makima's eyes widened slightly.
"I made a contract with Denji," The fiend began. His eyes lowered, and closed slightly, the grief was still fresh. "He was my best friend. When he died, he willingly gave me his body. In return, I will live the normal life he always wanted to live. I wanted to give him my heart… but he was dead for too long." The fiend sniffled, looking as though he was about to cry. "And so that is how I came to be. I am the Chainsaw Fiend."
"I… I see." Makima nodded along. "I can… give you that normal life, if you truly wish it." She offered, a confident grin stretching across her face as she stepped closer, well within his range to slash apart if he really wanted too. He didn't, if only because the offer the red haired devil captain of this Special Division 4 was quite interesting to him.
"There is a but coming up, isn't there." The fiend guessed, tensing up slightly.
"There is," Makima admitted. "We are both devils, so we cannot form a contract, but we can certainly form an unofficial one. let's call it a deal." She extended out her hand, confident grin still on her face. "I will give you a job as a devil hunter — in the Special Divisions, we are experimenting with allowing fiends and devils to serve humans as devil hunters — as well as a place to live, good food to eat, and new friends to meet and get to know. In exchange, I ask that you join my division. I would certainly like to get to know you more… Hero of Hell."
"Tsk…" The fiend scowled at her. "Don't call me that."
"Oh?" Makima raised an eyebrow. "What shall I call you then?"
"Pochita." Pochita instantly replied. "Denji Pochita… I want that to be my full name."
"I see." Makima nodded. "Very well, Pochita. Will you allow me to hire you as a devil hunter?"
Pochita looked the woman in her eyes, and sniffed the air. Pochita, even in a reduced form as a fiend, still had an extraordinarily good sense of smell. They were literally in the form of a dog yesterday, after all. This woman had that obvious smell of a devil about them, but Pochita lost the ability to smell exactly what kind of devil they were. Makima was definitely a devil that he had likely fought against in Hell. Other lesser Devils always either worshiped him as some kind of deity of chaos, or feared him and what he could do to them. There was just no telling what kind of devil Makima was, and Pochita could tell just by looking into her eyes that she definitely had other intentions in mind that she wasn't telling him.
But then again, what else could Pochita do? His position hasn't changed much from the previous day. Yesterday, he was in his reduced form, the form of a dog. He survived with Denji living off of scraps, rationing out stale slices of bread over the course of several days if they had too. Now, he was a fiend, alive, stronger than he'd ever been in the last four years of being with Denji.
But now he was alone.
He did need a job, that was part of a normal life, wasn't it? And in that job, he could meet new people, make friends, form relationships, and maybe one day, meet a girl he could hug someday. A girl that Denji would like.
Pochita felt sad all of a sudden.
Denji couldn't hug him anymore…
"Okay." Pochita quietly nodded his head, reaching out with his free hand to grip Makima's. "It's a deal. Not contract." He clarified. "I will kill you and strike out on my own path if you don't give me this happy life you promised."
Makima's eyes somehow only grew wider with excitement even after being threatened like that.
"You won't regret this," She said, gripping his hand and leading him away from the pool of blood he was just standing in. Pochita stared at their interlocked hands, confused, before feeling a sense of mild disgust.
Oh, you're one of thooose devils who worship me. Pochita thought with a shudder. The type of devil who wants to be around me in the weird way…
Pochita was willing to stomach it for now, though.
This was the first step to living that normal life that Denji always wanted. So he let Makima take her outside. Pochita wasn't quite used to his new eyes, yet, and it caused him to wince as the sun beamed down onto his face. The breeze felt colder against his skin. It had been so long, Pochita wasn't used to having fur-less skin yet. Though before, his body was mostly made of solid metal and hardened flesh, he just realized that he never really felt the wind before. The simple pleasure caused him to smile widely, Denji's hair waved along with a particularly strong breeze, and Pochita found himself relaxing. The intestine scarf returned to his gut, his bladed arm retracted back into his body. His nature as a fiend meant that the jagged blades of his chainsaws still stuck out the sides of his forearms and a bit out his elbow. But that was only a small sacrifice.
"I'll live that normal life you always wanted for me, Denji." Pochita thought, feeling the wind brush against his best friends skin. "I'll do my best to die a normal death, even if I'd be reborn later anyway. I'll keep my promise, no matter what."
"I will live the life you always wanted."
Pochita took his very first deep breath as the Chainsaw Fiend, and exhaled deeply as he got into Makima's open car.
His new life has begun.