Power made a show of waving goodbye to him, a crude attempt to get his goat. Power was much easier to read than Makima or Aki. She was closer to Denji’s level of skill at the game. Denji was convinced that her superior record came down to nothing more than dumb luck. Which was exactly why he refused to let her win again.
“What are you playing at, Denji?” Power asked.
“Hey, if I’m so easy to read, go ahead and read me!” He shut his eyes tight.
Denji knew that if Power reached for the joker, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from smiling—and if she was about to leave him with the old maid, he wouldn’t be able to stop his face from falling. That was how they’d all led him by the nose through game after game. With his eyes shut, he couldn’t see the cards, which meant he couldn’t react. A foolproof strategy.
Maybe I’m smarter than I thought! Denji told himself.
There was a long, silent moment. At last he felt Power take a card. He cracked an eye open, cautious but eager to get a look at the last card in his hand.
It was the joker.
“How the hell?” He flung the card down on the tatami flooring. “Dammit! I really thought this was going to be my game!”
“I know what happened, Denji. Want me to tell you?” Makima had seated herself on a chair on the balcony and was watching with amusement.
“Yes!” Denji said eagerly. “What was it? It was dumb luck, right?”
“Power snuck around behind you and peeked at your cards.”
“What?”
“Gah ha ha!” gloated Power, ecstatically. “’Twas the easiest victory of my life!”
Denji watched with bewilderment as his partner cheered for herself. “Hey … isn’t that cheating?”
Power continued grinning. “By no means! You left yourself open by closing your eyes.”
“Hard to argue with that,” Makima said.
“Yeah, I think she’s got you there,” Aki added.
Their agreement only made Power giddier. “Gah ha ha ha! You lose again, Denji. That’s ten times in a row!”
For a long moment Denji looked at the joker in his hand—and then he stuffed it in his mouth.
“Hey! He ate it!” Aki exclaimed.
“Oh no! Spit it out! Out with it!”
“Mrrrgghhh!”
Denji ran around the room, evading Aki and Power long enough to swallow the card. By the time they managed to grab him, he simply stuck out his tongue. “Now you see it, now you don’t! With no Old Maid, there’s no loss!”
Aki and Power looked at each other. They both shrugged. “I never do know what you’ll do next, Denji,” Aki said.
“You remain an idiot, however,” Power added.
“Oh.” Denji had expected more of an argument. The lack of a reaction took the wind out of his sails.
The other two let go of his arms. “With that tenacity,” said Aki, “maybe you have a chance at beating Ms. Makima next time.”
“Gah ha ha! We’re expecting big things from you, Denji!” Power taunted.
Denji ignored them. Once again he felt that little tug.
Makima clapped her hands, interrupting his train of thought. “Okay, that’s it for cards. It’s time. Why don’t we get going?”
Brought back to the moment, Denji looked outside. It was dark. “What do you mean? It’s night already. Where are we going?”
“Out.”
“Out?” Denji repeated dumbly.
“Remember?” Makima prodded. “I promised you’d like what happens after we relax at the hotel.”
Makima led the Hayakawa household outside. As they got closer to the beach, the scent of saltwater filled the air. In the moonlight, Enoshima seemed to melt into the darkness of the sea. The black silhouette cut the dark blue sky like a gate to the netherworld.
“What’s going on, Ms. Makima?” Denji asked. Makima held a finger to her lips and pointed at the sky.
A second later, there was a fweeeeee as something shot to the heavens. It exploded with a boom. The sky filled with a shower of light, a gigantic flower, which faded along with the sound. The colors lit the island and danced across Makima’s face as she turned and said, “There’s a fireworks display tonight, Denji.”
“Oh!” A light went off in Denji’s head. “So that’s why you prayed for clear weather!”
“And it seems my prayers were heard. Pretty, isn’t it?”
“Uh … yeah.” Denji didn’t know exactly what he’d been expecting, but he couldn’t shake a sense of disappointment. The fireworks were pretty all right, but they didn’t fill his belly or get his blood pumping. He wasn’t bored, but he wasn’t exactly excited either. Personally, he would have preferred to get some dinner or take a bath. Aki and Power, on the other hand, seemed transfixed by the show. Denji stood beside Makima, and each time the fireworks went off, their light gave him a glimpse of the beauty of her face.
Eh. It’s all right, I guess. Denji folded his arms and watched the quintessential summer spectacle. Some of the fireworks looked like chrysanthemums or peonies from brocade fabric. Others scattered glittering petals in every direction. Then there were the novelty ones that made star shapes or silly faces. Finally, there was one that traced a great golden arc across the sky like a comet. Each lit up the sky for just an instant before fading away.
Huh? What’s going on here? Watching the display overhead, Denji was overtaken once more by the sense that something was off. As each burst of light faded, he was hit by a wave of loneliness and unease. When the fireworks had started, he’d waited impatiently for them to be over, but now he ached with the wish that they could never end.
“Ms. Makima?” he said, but when he turned she wasn’t there. He spun around to see Aki and Power slipping away. “Hey! Where do you think you’re going?” he shouted, but they didn’t turn back.
He tried to follow them, but his body felt like lead. The thick air twisted itself around his limbs, fighting his every step. “Hey, wait! Wait already!” It was like trying to swim through mud. With every step, he lost ground.
A firework exploded.
I remember.
“Aki! Power! Don’t go! Come back!” He thrust out his right leg, but it sank into the asphalt.
The other two were halfway across the bridge now. Sparks drifted down from above.
Oh yeah …
“Shit! I don’t get it …” Denji said.
Fweeeee! Another firework climbed into the sky, carving a path of white light through the pitch black. This was going to be a big one. He could tell somehow that it was the finale, the end.
The two of them …
“Come back! Come back! Come baaaaack!” Denji reached out as if he could pluck them from the night. They were almost gone.
Abruptly, the ground released his feet. He tumbled forward.
The two of them are already …
“Dammit! No, it can’t end!” He clenched his fists, he gritted his teeth, he glared daggers at the sky.
The last firework detonated. It felt as if it was going off in his gut; the sound threatened to tear the night apart. The biggest flower of all bloomed directly overhead, obliterating the darkness with a blinding light.
“This can’t be the end! It can’t be over! This can’t be it!” He was shouting at the top of his lungs, his face crumpling. He tried to out-howl the explosion, but his voice was barely a whisper against the thunder in the sky as the flower shed its petals into the Enoshima night, then dwindled back to darkness.
In the last glow before it faded, Denji had a sense that Aki and Power turned to look at him from the far side of the bridge. But that was all it was. Just a sense.
“Hey, wake up already.”
“Hrm? Hrngh?” Denji opened his eyes to someone shaking him roughly. An acrid scent prickled his nose. As his vision focused, he found himself looking at a clean-shaven man with streaks of white in his hair and a scar by his mouth. Kishibe, captain of Public Safety Devil Extermination Special Division 4.
Denji let out a long breath. He was in a small, dim room with barren walls of exposed concrete. The floor was littered with junk food and wrappers. Kobeni, his former colleague in Public Safety, was lying on the floor nearby.
Kishibe gave Denji an appraising look. “You shouted in your sleep. Are you okay?”
“I shouted?” Denji asked, still groggy.
“Keep your voice down,” Kishibe cautioned. “Or Makima will hear us.”
“Right …” It was coming back to him. Kishibe had brought them to this safe house to escape Makima. Makima, who wanted Chainsaw Man. That was why she’d given Denji the life he’d longed for—and then snatched it away.
“How’re you feeling, Denji?” Kishibe asked.
Denji came up with a response. “Not great but, like, not awful.”
Discovering that his experiences in Public Safety, the new life he thought he’d made, had all been engineered to serve Makima’s ends made him feel like he’d been flushed down the world’s filthiest toilet. But all his life, he’d had a talent for making the crap in his life go away with a good night’s sleep.
Kishibe asked another question. “If you don’t feel awful, why are you crying?”
“Huh?” Reflexively, Denji touched his face. His fingertips found something damp on his cheeks. It was cold to the touch—but in his chest was an unexpected warmth. “I dunno,” he said. “I think I was dreaming or something.”
“You can do that at a time like this?” Kishibe raised an eyebrow.
“If anyone can do it, I can. That’s what she said.”
“What’re you talking about?”
“I … I’m not sure.” Denji tilted his head, puzzled. Slowly, he climbed to his feet. He touched his chest to make sure his heart was beating, then flashed Kishibe a peace sign. “Okay. Gonna go kill Makima. I’ll be right back.”