[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 Five: A Funeral Called Sobriety

The air deep in the forest was no longer just cold; it had become thick and murky, as if every breath was devouring some kind of rotting soul. Makima, holding Dianzhi 's hand, walked with elegant and measured steps towards a black tower at the edge of the forest. The building defied all known laws of physics; it had no windows, and its walls resembled a huge, dried-up piece of rotting flesh growing from the earth , radiating a chilling pressure in the gray mist .

Dianzhi followed behind, his steps light and unsteady, like a kite that had lost its balance. His eyes were fixed on the back of Makima's head, the pale red braid hanging down over her white shirt being the only visual symbol he could comprehend at that moment.

Just then, a deep, muffled, and penetrating roar shattered the false silence.

"Bang!"

A specially crafted sniper bullet, its surface engraved with the incantation "Cursed Demon," grazed Makima's cheek at supersonic speed. The powerful blast from the bullet whipped her hair back and ultimately shattered a dead tree behind her with pinpoint accuracy. The trunk instantly exploded into countless charred fragments, turning into a plume of black smoke reeking of sulfur.

Makima stopped in her tracks. She slowly turned her head , extended her index finger to wipe away the almost invisible scratch on her cheek, her expression still frighteningly calm, not even a tremor in her eyelashes.

"It seems an unwelcome guest has decided to disrupt our trip at the last minute," she said softly, her tone carrying a hint of exasperation towards a mischievous child.

Anbian emerged from the shadows of the thick fog. He wore his signature dark green trench coat, collar pulled up high, a half- smoked cigarette dangling from his lips . His face was paler than usual, and his bloodshot, lifeless eyes now gleamed with an almost insane resolve. Behind him followed several masked members of the Public Security Special Task Force, radiating an aura of death , each trembling with fear, for they knew what they faced.

"Makima, this disgusting 'school trip' should come to an end today." The voice on the Kishibe was hoarse, as if it had been sanded on sandpaper . He casually threw away the empty wine jug, the silver metal striking the frozen ground with a crisp, desperate sound.

Makima turned around, revealing a perfect, flawless professional smile: "Mr. Kishibe, Denji is currently experiencing the happiest moment of his life. He no longer needs to worry about paying off his debts, no longer needs to fear betrayal by his companions, and no longer needs to endure hunger and loneliness. Isn't your intervention now destroying his happiness?"

"That kind of peace that's been forcibly emasculated isn't happiness, it's death." Anbian's eyes turned cold, his gaze passing over Makima and landing on Denji behind her .

Denji was in a worse state than Kishibe had imagined. His eyes were lifeless, his lips slightly parted, like a puppet whose spine had been removed and which was suspended by only strings. He didn't even recognize Kishibe, and when he heard that familiar hoarse voice, he just subconsciously shrank behind Makima, like a frightened stray dog that had completely lost its wildness.

" Denji , hey, you idiot! Look at me!" A beast-like roar erupted from the Kishibe. "Do you remember how that guy Pawa shoved all the vegetables he didn't like into your bowl? Do you remember how that stubborn Akira kicked you out of bed every morning to wake you up for training? That pain, that anger, is the proof that you're alive!"

Denji 's shoulder twitched violently. Those two names seemed to stir a tiny ripple in his numb brain, but it was nothing more than a ripple.

"It's no use, Mr. Kishibe." Makima gently stroked Denji 's head, her tone so tender it was chilling. "He can no longer hear those painful cries. I gave him what he wanted most — the right to stop thinking. As long as he doesn't think, he is perfect."

"That's not a right, that's a number in the slaughterhouse."

Without another word, he abruptly waved his hand. The masked team members scattered rapidly, simultaneously biting their fingers to summon their respective contracted demons at the cost of their lives. The air was instantly filled with twisted blades, cold chains, and low , otherworldly roars. This was a suicidal attack .

However, Makima simply raised her right hand calmly. She brought her index and middle fingers together, pointed them at the rushing team members in front of her, and gently made a downward pressing gesture.

"Bang."

With that soft onomatopoeic sound, the previously raging demonic aura in mid-air instantly froze. The team members didn't even have time to scream before their bodies exploded into clouds of dark red blood mist , as if crushed by an invisible giant hydraulic press . Blood rained down on the trench coat on the Kishibe, but he didn't even blink. Taking advantage of the moment when the blood mist obscured his vision, he rushed towards Makima like lightning, the specially made knife in his hand gleaming with a cold light aimed at controlling abilities.

"She's so stubborn it's pitiful," Makima sighed softly .

The blade on the Kishibe stopped just three centimeters from Makima's throat. It wasn't because he lacked strength, nor because he hesitated, but because Denji stood in his way.

Denji 's arm had become part of the chainsaw , but he didn't pull the pin. He just stared at the Kishibe with that empty, unfamiliar, and extremely hostile gaze.

"Don't... hurt ... Miss Makima." Denji 's voice was hoarse and broken , sounding like two rusty pieces of iron rubbing against each other.

"You... you utterly ruined idiot... " Kishibe 's hand holding the knife trembled violently. He saw clear liquid flowing from Denji's eyes, but his face was smiling — an expression forcibly etched onto him, called "happiness."

Denji now . In Makima's domain, Denji had become an extension of her will.

"Tsk, the wine's gone , and the cigarette 's out too." Anbian suddenly sheathed his knife and retreated into the thick fog that was gradually gathering.

"Is Mr. Anbe leaving?" Makima asked.

"Ugh, watching this kind of third-rate brainwashing movie will shorten my lifespan. I need to find a place to have a decent drink." Before his figure completely disappeared, Kishibe gave Denji one last look . "Hey, kid. Pain is humanity's last line of defense. The day you feel like crying your eyes out again means you're still alive. By then... if you're still alive, we'll see."

The fog closed in.

Makima looked in the direction the Kishibe had disappeared, then turned to Denji and said, " Denji-kun , let's go. You don't need to remember what that old man said. Those are just germs that will make you sick."

"Hmm... Miss Makima." Denji took her hand again, the last glimmer of light in his eyes sinking back into death. "I... I don't remember anything."

The two continued towards the black, tomb-like tower. Behind them , on the blood-stained ground, a cigarette lay quietly burning out on the Kishibe , its smoke curling upwards like a final, feeble offering from this failed rescue attempt. (...To be continued...)

【ファンタジー完結】チェンソーマン Reze編 -藤本 タツキ希のファンタジー小説マキマとデンジの架空の楽園

 

 

【ファンタジー完結】チェンソーマン Reze編 -藤本 タツキ希のファンタジー小説マキマとデンジの架空の楽園

第1章：カフェと消えた傘

芸術的なカフェの空気はどこか淀んでいた。エアコンの低周波の音は、まるで耳元で何か大きな節足動物が絶えず這っているかのようだった。窓の外では、その日の午後、土砂降りの雨が東京を通り過ぎたばかりだった。アスファルトは眩しい陽光を反射し、立ち上る湯気が通りをぼんやりとした夢のように照らしていた。

窓際の丸い木のテーブルに腰掛けていた。その体はまるで古いゼンマイ仕掛けのおもちゃのように硬直していた。冷めたラテを両手でぎゅっと握りしめ、縁の周りの乾いた茶色い輪は、彼の乾いた生気のない気分を映し出していた。彼の心の中では、無声映画が再生されていた。雨の中を走るライセ、祭りでの彼女の鼻にかかった笑い声、そして壇上での彼女の最後のキス――嘘に満ちながらも、紛れもなく真実のキス。

強く掴まれているような感覚だった。デンジにとって「失恋」の重さを味わったのは初めてだった。チェーンソーで切り裂かれるような直接的な痛みではなく、ゆっくりと剥がれていくような、息苦しい感覚だった。ポケットの中の、くしゃくしゃになった喫茶店のポイントカードを握りしめていた。それは彼とあの少女を繋ぐ唯一の絆であり、「現状から抜け出す」ための最後の勇気だった。

その時、しっとりとしたウッディな香りと、ほのかに洗練された石鹸の香りが混ざり合った、冷たく爽やかな香りが、彼の記憶との繋がりを強烈に断ち切った。その香りはあまりにも馴染み深く、紛れもない圧倒的な力を持っていた。

「デンジ君、一人で何か悩んでるの？」

その声は優雅で穏やかで、滑らかな水面に落ちる氷の結晶のようだった。デンジふと顔を上げると、目の前にマキマが立っていた。彼女は皺一つないプレスのかかった白いシャツを着ており、長く薄い赤毛は背中に垂らした三つ編みにきちんとまとめられていた。円が重なり合った淡い黄色の瞳は、デンジの心の中を透視し、彼の卑劣な葛藤を見透かしているかのようだった。

マキマは許可も求めず、自然と彼の向かいに座った。細く白い指を伸ばし、まるで雑然としたものを片付けるように、レズビアンと苦悩の象徴であるデンジの前のラテをテーブルの隅へとそっと押しやり、すっきりとした空間を作った。

「いろいろ辛いことがあったのに、こんな暗い場所にいても気持ちは晴れないわよ」マキマは少し身を乗り出した。その瞳はまるでこの世の罪を許すかのように優しく、声には不思議な魔力が宿っていた。「ねえ、デンジくん、旅行に行かない？」

「旅…旅？」デンジの脳は一瞬で凍りついた。

「ええ、二人だけで」マキマは首を傾げ、抑えきれない笑みを浮かべた。「ビーチか、もっと遠くて静かな場所へ行きましょう。一緒に日の出を眺め、地元の新鮮な食材を一緒に食べて、夜は…ずっと一緒にいられる。そこなら殺し合いも、悪魔も、そして人を悲しませるような『重荷』もないわ」

彼女は意図的に雷傑の名前を省き、その少女の存在を直接的に「重荷」と分類した。

「私たち二人だけ？」淀は胸が張り裂けるような思いでその質問を繰り返した。

マキマが「二人で」「ずっと一緒に」と口にした瞬間、デンジの脳裏に浮かんだレイジュの顔が激しく歪み、薄れ始めた。雨も、約束も、初めて胸がときめいた痛みも、マキマの神聖な誘いの下では、すべてが取るに足らない、愚かなものに思えた。マキマの優しさはまるで高濃度のモルヒネのように、デンジの痛覚を瞬時に麻痺させた。

「行く？」マキマは手を伸ばし、指先でデンジの手を優しく覆った。彼女の体温は平熱よりわずかに低かったが、デンジの大脳皮質に電撃が走り、残っていた理性とためらいを粉砕した。

「行くよ！行くよ！」デンジ興奮のあまり椅子をひっくり返しそうになった。彼の目は再び、マキマへの熱狂的で忠実な崇拝で輝いていた。「マキマさんが行くって言うなら、どこへでも行くよ！旅行だ！ふふふ…二人だけの旅行… 」

赤毛の女の後を追おうと、急に立ち上がった。あまりの動きに、ポケットに入れていたくしゃくしゃになったポイントカード――雷傑が置いていったチケット、彼女が連れて行ってくれると約束したチケット――が地面に落ち、テーブルの下の埃の中に静かに横たわった。

淀は振り返ることさえせず、店から闊歩し、後ずさりするマキマの姿を追いかけた。彼の目には、世界が一色に染まっていた。

窓の外では、止んでいた雨が再びまばらに降り始め、持ち主のいない古い傘を叩きつけた。そして、この息苦しい「忘却」の中で、デンジの幸福が正式に始まった。

（...つづく...）

[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 Four: The Forest of Nothingness

 

When Denji opened his eyes again, the world had completely lost the bright, modern, and clean feel of the Shinkansen.

The scenery outside the villa underwent a bizarre transformation overnight. The once shimmering sea was now obscured by a thick, almost solid, grayish-white fog. The fog wasn't naturally formed; it was viscous , cold, and carried the smell of rotting vegetation and old newspapers. The once neatly manicured courtyard vanished, replaced by an endless, wildly rising, deep gray forest.

The trees were twisted in a nauseating way, their trunks covered with patterns resembling human ribs, their branches thin and dry, like the fingers of countless drowning people reaching for the sky in their final moments.

" Denji-kun , let's play hide-and-seek."

Makima stood at the entrance to the forest, her long red braid standing out starkly against the gray background, almost cruelly so, like the only flowing blood in this desolate world. She wasn't wearing a heavy coat, just a thin white shirt, which seemed perfectly at ease in the biting wind that could freeze the skin.

Yodo followed behind her blankly. The wound on his thigh from last night had long since healed, leaving only a few patches of pale pink new flesh —a testament to the beast-like regenerative abilities of a "weapon man." But compared to his physical body, his spirit presented a vast, desolate emptiness. The name he had managed to utter from the depths of his soul last night— " Reige " —now seemed like a stone sunk into an abyss, no longer capable of causing a ripple.

"If I get caught, will I be punished?" Denji asked softly. His voice didn't sound like his own; it sounded like a broken phonograph.

"No, if Denji gets caught, I'll give you a reward." Makima turned around, her fingertips lightly tracing the bridge of his nose, the touch so cold it made him shiver. "I'll help you clear all that 'useless noise' from your head. That way, you won't feel any pain anymore."

Dianzhi walked into the forest.

The sense of space in the forest is extremely distorted. Even after walking less than ten steps, turning back reveals no longer the villa's entrance; only endless gray tree shadows sway in the mist. The sounds here are very strange, a mixture of faint noises in the silence—sometimes like a distant, low explosion, sometimes like the hum of a coffee machine , and even the splashing of a girl's bare feet running through a puddle .

" Yoji- kun ... "

A faint, trembling voice came from behind a dead tree. Denji turned his head sharply , his heart pounding violently in his chest, the shock causing him pain .

There, he saw Rachel .

She wore the sleeveless vest that haunted his dreams, and the iconic black ribbon around her neck. She didn't speak, but stood silently in the mist , watching him with a sorrow and disappointment that almost suffocated him.

"Rei... " Just as Denji was about to speak, Rei's figure began to distort violently, like a shattered mirror.

Her face began to drip blood like burning candles, her once bright eyes turned into charred, empty holes, and her voice became sharp and shrill: " Denji-kun... why did n't you come to the station? Why... did you go with that woman? You killed me ... you killed me again ... "

"I didn't! I just forgot! I didn't mean to!" Denji knelt on the ground, the damp, cold soil mixed with the smell of decaying leaves piercing his knees.

Just then, another figure emerged from the shadows of the forest. It was Hayakawa Aki , dressed in a neat suit and with a small braid . There was a large, transparent hole in his chest, and blood was dripping onto the gray grass, but he was clutching a train ticket to Hokkaido tightly in his hand.

" Yoji , didn't you say... we were going to live together?" Aki's voice was as cold as ice. "What are you doing now ? Playing hide-and-seek under this woman's spell? Look me in the eyes, Yoji . After you killed me, is this the only happiness you got in return?"

"A-Chiu... No , that's not how it is ... "

Immediately afterward, Pava appeared in the shadows of the trees. She was tightly clutching the cat named " Nyanko " in her arms, but her body was crumbling like a withered leaf. She didn't speak, but stared intently at Denji with an abandoned look in her eyes .

These people, the most important in his life, had now become vengeful ghosts. They surrounded Denji , questioning him again and again in that calm yet malicious tone why he had chosen this "peace of being fed." Denji felt like his brain was about to explode; the memories that Makima had forcibly suppressed were like steel nails piercing his skull from the inside out.

"Enough... Stop talking... Stop talking!!"

Denji frantically waved his hands, even trying to pull the ring on his chest, attempting to drown out the souls' questions with noise. Just as he was about to collapse and his spirit shatter, a pair of warm, faintly fragrant hands gently embraced him from behind.

In that instant, all the ghosts, all the screams, all the guilt seemed to be muted .

"See, Denji-kun ," Makima's voice rang in his ear, as gentle as a spring breeze at dawn, "Remembering these things only causes you pain. You didn't have to bear this. It's these memories that are hurting you, not me."

Denji trembled and huddled in her arms, tears streaming down his face. "Miss Makima... I feel so bad ... My head hurts so much ... I feel like... I 'm not even fit to be human ... "

"You don't need to be human, Denji ." Makima gently kissed the back of his neck, a kiss that seemed to inject a potent anesthetic, quickly numbing every nerve in his body. "Humans feel sadness, humans betray, humans die. But dogs don't. Just leave them to me, no need to think, no need to feel guilty. Just look at me, just rely on me. I'll kill all the noise in this forest for you."

Dianzhi 's gaze gradually became unfocused.

Those sharp senses of incongruity , under Makima's rhythmic soothing, transformed into a near-dead, nihilistic tranquility.

" ... Okay," Denji murmured.

He stood up. The mist in the forest seemed to dissipate somewhat at that moment, but he no longer cared what was hidden behind the shadows of the trees. He took Makima's cold hand in his own, the hand that had once tried to push the whole world away, but now held it tighter than anyone else's.

Behind him , the "forest of nothingness" woven from guilt was slowly collapsing. Reige's flowers, Qiu's train ticket, Pava's laughter—all turned into meaningless gray dust. Denji had completely surrendered his sovereignty, in exchange for this subjugated, pale freedom.

He stopped struggling.

Because the price of struggling is clarity, and clarity is far too painful . (...To be continued...)