It had been 8 hours since Denji and Kobeni first met, 6 hours since he encountered Makima, and 4 hours since he was assigned to a so-called special division to escape execution at the hands of the scarlet-haired monster. "Creepy bitch," Denji muttered, his hands on his head, trying to comprehend the whirlwind transformation in his life, from eating rotten bread from trash cans to raiding a pantry of a girl he had saved using his devil powers.
Denji froze, the shock hitting him like a taser. "Pochita's gone," he said aloud. Kobeni sat in a corner on her knees, away from the boy. It had been an hour or so since she stopped crying; now she seemed focused on something, but he wasn't really paying attention. "Who's Pochita?" she asked timidly. "Sorry, you don't have to answer that!" she said, putting her head in her hands, startled after he snapped his attention toward her.
"Uh, well, Pochita was my best friend." "Was?" Kobeni asked. Denji hugged his legs to his chest. "He was a devil I made friends with." Kobeni's voice hitched, "you made friends with a devil?" "Pochita wasn't like other devils. He didn't hurt people, unless they were mean to him," Denji explained, his thoughts racing.
"What was he like?" Kobeni asked, curious. "He didn't really talk, but he understood what you told him, if that's easy to get," Denji reflected. He thought for a moment, "I probably shouldn't tell her about what Pochita said. I don't know what's up with Makima, but I feel like she's not someone to trust," Denji pondered to himself. "I can't fully trust Kobeni-chan either yet. How much of a trustworthy person can someone be if they work for someone untrustworthy?" he questioned.
Kobeni's eyes were focused on him. For once, she didn't seem fearful or anxious. In fact, she sat deathly still, her curiosity piqued. "Pochita would help me fight devils!" Denji interjected, redirecting the focus to his story. "Once, me and him spent 2 hours fighting a tomato devil that was poisoning trees in a forest."
"Was he like a guard? How tall was he?" Kobeni imagined some hulking figure with a chainsaw head ripping open a tomato devil while Denji cheered him on.
"I think he was 1 foot tall, lying on his back," Denji described. Kobeni seemed intrigued. "Why specifically on his back?"
Denji looked directly at Kobeni. They had a momentary unspoken contest, trying to gauge each other's intentions. "She asks a lot of questions, doesn't she?" Denji thought to himself, remembering that she worked for Makima, who had shown an unusual interest in Pochita.
"Pochita was like a dog. He would follow me around, and I could use the small chainsaw on his face to cut down trees," Denji explained further. Kobeni cringed at the mental image of a puppy with a massive saw protruding from his small face like a boil. "Kobeni-chan," Denji said, grabbing her attention. "Do you like working for Makima?" The black-haired girl hesitated for a moment. She had never really contemplated this question before. She disliked fighting and having to kill things, even if they were evil, just for a paycheck. "I don't know."
Denji spread out his legs and leaned back. "Denji... Did you enjoy hunting devils?" she asked, turning away from him. "I didn't, but it was because I was forced to. The money was too good to pass up."
Kobeni smiled, a wistful expression. "It's the same. We have to do what we have to do, right?"
Denji's expression changed, a certain seriousness in his eyes. "Why are you smiling?" he asked.
"It's just nice to meet someone who gets it," Kobeni replied.
Denji crossed his legs and placed his hands on his knees. "I don't know about that. You know how many people are probably in the same spot you are? Doing it for the money to survive."
Kobeni hadn't really thought about it. She didn't often converse with her coworkers. Making friends with devil hunters was akin to doctors becoming friends with terminal patients — a difficult prospect. That thought made Kobeni silent. She had never really socialized with the other devil hunters. They were either too hardcore or too grizzled, making it difficult to engage in casual conversation. Unless they got drunk, they weren't very talkative or lively.
"Deadmen walking," Himeno had described them, imitating their stiff movements like zombies.
"Denji-kun," Kobeni broke the silence, "why do you dislike Miss Makima?"
Denji folded in on himself, feeling the weight of Makima's penetrating gaze. His shoulders tensed as he grappled with his thoughts. The memories and suspicions about Makima stirred within him, creating a disconcerting storm of emotions. He shook his head, as if trying to shake the thoughts away like an etch-a-sketch, unsure of how to articulate his concerns. "When I became a fiend, or whatever you call it, it's because I died and got attacked by a woman who lured me to an abandoned apartment," Denji revealed, his voice tinged with vulnerability. Kobeni's eyes softened as she listened. The fire inside Denji's soul dimmed as he seemed lost in thought for a moment. "She was nice to me. All I ever wanted was for a cute girl to like me. And I thought she did, so I followed her. My mind was clouded, and she cut me up for my organs."
Denji didn't want to look at Kobeni anymore. He didn't trust her, and he knew he shouldn't trust anyone associated with the devil hunters. "If Makima is leading them, then I want nothing to do with them," he told himself in a hushed whisper. Kobeni overheard him muttering something, and though she was concerned about his mental state, she chose not to press further at this delicate moment. "I'm not very strong you know. i cant really do a lot but you saved me twice earlier today so ill try to help you out as much as i can alright?" Kobeni shakingly said. Denji's eyes focused on her narrowing before he sighed and nonchalantly told her "Its whatever." he turned onto his side and laid down on the floor of the apartment. no futon or blanket he just sat there wrapped in the tattered jacket he borrowed and he stared at the wall for a few minutes longer thinking about his new predicament.