[Fantasy Ending] Chainsaw Man: Reze Chapter - Fujimoto Tsuki's Fantasy Novel : Makima and Denji 's Fictional Paradise

[Fantasy Ending] Chainsaw Man: Reze Chapter - Fujimoto Tsuki's Fantasy Novel : Makima and Denji 's Fictional Paradise

 

Chapter 3: The Blank Space on the Shinkansen

 

Inside the Nozomi Shinkansen carriage, a clean scent of premium leather mingled with the air conditioning filter filled the air . The scenery outside the window was blurring backward at 300 kilometers per hour, towns, farmland, and telephone poles all turning into blurry blocks of color.

Denji sat in the window seat , his body sinking deep into the unreal, soft blue cushions. His mind, like the view outside the window, was in a state of "blank" after a period of high-speed processing.

" Denji-kun , what are you thinking about?"

Makima sat very close, so close that Yodo could feel the faint warmth of her thigh. Today she was wearing a soft, light-colored trench coat, and was elegantly unpacking an exquisite train bento box. The ingredients in the bento box were crystal clear; the salmon roe shimmered like rubies, and the Wagyu beef fat was distributed like a work of art.

"Hehe, it's nothing, Miss Makima!" Denji turned around, revealing his signature toothless, goofy grin. He took the bento box Makima handed him and began to devour it without a care for appearances. "I'm just thinking, this feels like a dream. A trip! And with Miss Makima alone! I must have saved the galaxy in my past life!"

"Really? Then Denji-kun should eat more. You're too thin. If you don't eat enough, you won't be able to protect me properly." Makima took out a lightly scented handkerchief from her bag and gently wiped the sauce off Denji's lips.

At that moment, Denji 's heart pounded; it was the treatment he had always dreamed of. To be needed, to be cared for, to be loved.

But strangely, deep within that intense throbbing, a chilling sensation was quietly spreading. It felt like a tiny, yet hard grain of sand had gotten stuck in a finely tuned gear at full speed. Whenever he felt his most "happiest" moment, that grain of sand would rub against his nerves, reminding him that something was missing.

Denji turned to look out the window, just as they passed an unnamed station platform. For a fleeting moment, an afterimage seemed to appear on his retina: a girl wearing a sleeveless vest, her arms wrapped in bandages, standing alone in the rain. Her lips were moving, as if she were calling his name.

" Denji-kun , let's run away."

These words struck him like a bolt of lightning . Denji 's hand jerked violently , and the salmon roe in the bento box rolled to the ground.

" Denji-kun ?" Makima's voice was still gentle, but her pale yellow eyes were like bottomless whirlpools, fixed on him.

"Ah... I 'm sorry, Miss Makima, my hand slipped!" Denji hurriedly bent down to pick it up, his heart pounding so hard it felt like it was going to jump out of his throat.

He began to feel fear. Not fear of Makima, but fear of the ever-emerging memory. Who was that girl? Why did thinking of her cause a tearing pain in his chest? "Lei... " His tongue instinctively tried to utter that syllable, but the moment the name was about to take shape, a sharp pain shot through his cerebral cortex, as if a thin steel needle had pierced the core of his consciousness.

" Denji-kun , are you thinking about the scenery you saw at the station just now?" Makima reached out, her cold fingers gently smoothing his messy blond hair. "Those meaningless noises will only interfere with your happiness . Just look at me, just think... I will give you everything you want."

Her voice carried an almost magical, hypnotic frequency. Yodo looked up at her, her overlapping pupils widening before him, gradually filling his entire field of vision. In those eyes, he couldn't see the scenery outside the window, the girl in the rain , or even the past version of himself scavenging for food in the garbage dump.

"No ... meaningless noise," Denji muttered to himself, his eyes gradually becoming unfocused.

The grain of sand in his heart was ground down by Makima's gentleness, turning into powder and eventually disappearing. That " discomfort " was forcibly flattened, replaced by a false sense of peace, like being immersed in warm water.

"Miss Makima, I'm full." Yodo put down his bento box and, like a docile cat, rested his head on Makima's shoulder. "I'm so sleepy ."

" If you're sleepy , go to sleep, Denji-kun . When you wake up, we'll have reached the finish line."

Makima looked out the window, a faint smile playing on her lips. On the reflective glass, Denji 's face appeared blurry, as if his soul were slowly dissipating in the wind with the high-speed movement of the Shinkansen.

As the Shinkansen swayed smoothly, Denji fell into a deep sleep . In his dream, he saw a blooming flower, but just as he reached out to catch it, the flower turned into a burning flame, leaving not even ashes.

Beside him, the red- haired ruler was quietly guarding this murder, woven by her own hands, under the gaze of someone looking at a beloved collectible, a murder she herself had orchestrated called "happiness."

(...To be continued...)