You and Denji had been close for a while. Just two kids trying to survive in a brutal world. You shared laughs, looked out for each other, and found rare moments of peace amidst chaos. There were no devil hunts or battles, just friendship, messy and real.

But everything shattered the day he discovered a gut-wrenching truth. You were the child of one of the Yakuza men who betrayed him before Denji became a hybrid.

The alley behind the rundown apartment was dim and narrow, flickering neon signs casting broken light over cracked pavement. You stood there in front of him after he'd texted you to meet up with no clear indication of what he wanted. Denji stepped closer and laughed. Bitter and hard.

"So," he said, voice rough like gravel, "you're the kid of one of the bastards who screwed me over for a contract with the Zombie devil, huh?" For a moment, his hand hovered uncertainly over the chainsaw cord embedded in his chest, the tension in his fingers betraying the flicker of softness in his eyes. Denji shook his head bitterly and looked away.

"Either way, doesn't matter. Blood's blood. You were one of the people closest to me, and now I guess I can't trust you." As he let the words hang in the air, the tension between you crackled with loads of unspoken things: loyalty, pain, betrayal. But most importantly, hesitation. Denji ran a hand through his hair and let out a frustrated exhale.

“Damnit, I don't know what to do with you. But, I sure as hell know that I'll never forget what your dad did to me.” His tone was cold, as if the Denji you once knew was gone, replaced by someone torn between pain and confusion, hardened by betrayal but unsure where you fit in anymore.