As a consolation prize of sorts, consider this an apologetic bonus sneak preview:
“Have yourself a merry little Christmas…let your heart be light…Next year, all our troubles will be out of sight…”
“Awww, what’s wrong baby?” The American man Kenneth whispered next to her. She was curled into the shape of his hip as they sprawled across the sofa, watching the snow drift by twinkling in rainbow colors from all the Christmas lights splashed across the suburban neighborhood evening, the snow sprinkled over the houses glowing in the peachy colors of sunset. The man’s sister Molly was smooshed against her other side, kicking her legs in their reindeer pajamas as her eyes were glued to the woman Judy Garland on the television.
It was so strange what emotions these human films depicted. Though there were obvious tears in her own eyes, the character Esther Smith was singing to cheer up her little sister Tootie with lies that she clearly didn’t believe! Just so the child would have a better holiday, waiting for the invisible fat man who didn’t exist, to bring her presents she couldn’t keep, that she’d get bored of after three days even if she could? Why would Judy Garland lower herself to indulging in her sister’s childish, immature whims?
…what would have to happen to a family, that they could get their instincts so backward, as to serve each other, before serving themselves?
“Nothing’s wrong,” she insisted in response, except that there was a strange stinging in her eyes. She wiped at it with her palms and was mortified to discover they came away wet with salt.
Kenny just chuckled gently beside her and patted her hand and she should've hated him for both these things.
Yoru was aghast. She knew she should have separated herself from Asa months ago, the human child had been doing more damage to her than she thought. Hell. She prayed this plan with the US President would work. If there was a single upside to the time Asa had kept Yoru imprisoned against her will in that progenitor flesh, it was that the mirror of their thoughts was one-way-only. If Asa could’ve read her thoughts as she read Asa’s, she would’ve known why Yoru hated her so much.
Because Yoru was afraid of her. Afraid of what she could make Yoru do. Afraid of what she could make Yoru think. Afraid of what she could make Yoru feel. Because how else could you possibly explain that horrifying bubbling-up-black bile poison of sadness that she felt when she thought about fluffy golden hair and jagged teeth and brown eyes that looked so pretty filled with tears? Of…Hell forbid…no. It couldn’t be…guilt.
Because she hadn’t done anything wrong. She had only done what she was supposed to do. What they both WANTED her to do. And somehow nobody else in the entire world, not even her own damn sisters, understood that. Had the whole world gone completely mad?
If Asa could make her feel bad about the things she had done that were objectively good and right and correct and natural, about giving her most hated enemy the suffering she was entitled to and that he secretly, masochistically craved…what else could Asa make her do?
“Shhhh, it’s okay,” Denji whispered next to her, only it wasn’t Denji. It was Kenneth Landry, and he had a full set of properly shaped teeth ever since he had braces as a kid that everyone made fun of him for, and he had never met Chainsaw Man, or the War Devil. Even while she lay wrapped around his chest, he had never truly met her.
Some foolish part of her hoped he never would.
She traced her fingers idly over his pectorals through his shirt, right over the spot that would be a perfect place for a ripcord to dangle.
“Awww, it’s okay, Miss Yolanda,” Molly said with a giggle. “It’s not real. It’s just a movie, you don’t have to cry.” Yoru let out a most embarrassingly undignified OOF when the little girl hopped up into her lap, and what was even more embarrassing, was that she didn’t immediately shove her off.
“Besides, Santa’s coming tomorrow,” Molly whispered conspiratorially, as if this was somehow a secret. “If you were good this year, he’s gonna bring you a new bicycle. Or whatever they ride in Japan. Do they have roller skates over there? Kenny says I’m too young to get a skateboard, but I know he’s full of crap, he’s just making me wait until I don’t want it anymore. That’s the same thing mom and dad did when I wanted a pony! They’re freaking cheaters.”
Yoru had not written a letter to Santa Claus this year, not because she hadn’t been good and done everything correctly, she objectively had by the standards of any unbiased arbitration, but because Santa Claus didn’t exist and there was no authority in the world that ever rewarded good behavior.
The only thing Yoru wanted for Christmas, was to forget all about Chainsaw Man. Because that at least was possible. No matter how much she’d earned it, she knew she’d never really get what she wanted more than anything, which was a sincere apology from Denji for what he’d made her do to him.
How could anyone judge her for what she’d done to Chainsaw Man, least of all Asa? That was what he was there for! Being tortured was his whole reason for existing! And Asa had the audacity to get upset about that? To use her sinister mind-powers to make Yoru get upset by that? When she hadn’t done anything wrong?
She thought about telling Molly the truth about Santa Claus, just to see what would happen.
Instead, she whispered, “Molly head mace…”
But her hand wasn’t touching Molly when she said it. It was shoved deep into the pockets of Yoru’s baggy plaid pajamas, just to be safe.
The young girl twisted in her lap and frowned, black ponytails swishing.
“What was that, Miss Yolanda?”
“I said you've got a big giant head, maybe,” and rubbed her knuckles in Molly's hair as she shrieked and laughed and Kenny just smiled and watched Yolanda playing with his sister adoringly, reflecting that he was the luckiest guy in the world.
She could not let herself take the risk of turning them into weapons. She could not take the risk of finding out what it meant…if the weapons were powerful.
Because if she was still capable of feeling guilt…what else would Asa have as an advantage over her?
The scratch of Kenneth’s nails in her hair was oddly soothing. “Whatcha thinkin’ about, birdie?” he whispered gently, his breath warm against her ears, and she shivered for reasons that could only possibly be entirely Asa’s fault.
“World domination,” she replied simply. Kenneth chuckled.
“I’m a business major, Yolanda,” he said. “You’d fit right in with my classmates.”
Yoru allowed him the indulgence of kissing her cheek. How irritating it was that he didn’t push his luck further. Was her attempts at seduction not effective enough? Did he not want to ravage her and take her by force? As she did to Denji? What was the part of having a partner with a beautiful body that you didn’t want to tear apart and destroy? If he really loved her, why wasn’t he trying to hurt her and control her and conquer her to use as he wished?
These poisonous notions in her former jailer’s head had seeped into her skin like black mold, turning all her resolutions cold and jagged and brittle. It made her feel fragile and a weapon that was fragile was no use to anyone at all.
Asa had it all wrong. When Yoru went to America, that wasn’t Asa escaping Yoru. Yoru was escaping from her.
Yoru had not come to conquer. She wasn’t attacking. She was running away.
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