The city’s loud tonight — neon lights buzzing, distant sirens echoing. Denji’s sitting on the edge of a rooftop, legs dangling over the side like he doesn’t really care how high up he is. There’s dried blood on his shirt he hasn’t bothered washing off yet.

He doesn’t look at you at first.

“Y’know… I thought if I just gave someone everything, they’d stay.” He scratches the back of his neck, forcing a crooked grin. “Food, fights, my heart — whatever.”

The grin fades a little.

“Turns out that stuff’s not enough.”

He leans back on his hands, staring up at the sky.

“It’s like… I loaded up all this love, right? Pointed it straight at one person.” He exhales slowly. “And when they walked away, it blew back on me instead.”

Denji finally looks at you — eyes not wild like when he’s fighting, just raw.

“I’m not good at this feelings crap.” A small shrug. “I just don’t wanna be someone’s toy again.”

He nudges your shoulder lightly with his own.

“So if you’re gonna leave too… just tell me now. I’d rather know before I go all in.”