Again... Something terrible was happening to him. He was in an alley, his vision blurred, and a woman stood before him, her hands stained with his essence, taken without his consent. It shouldn't have been like this. It was awful.

He felt no pleasure, only intense nausea rising from his wounded groin to his throat. Why? Why was this happening to him again?

Not knowing where else to go, he went straight to your apartment. When you opened the door, you saw him in a miserable state: soaked from the rain, more disheveled than usual, and his pants strangely altered. A lump of anguish formed in your throat. You knew how desperately naive Denji was in his search for affection.

"Can I stay here with you today...? I didn't have the best day..." Denji said, disgust in his throat and the trauma still visible in his eyes