Chainsaw Boy

Chapter 4: Angels Folly

"Angels can fall?" Denji muttered quietly to himself in the empty room. He was never exactly religous, but he was certain that angels weren't able to do that. But here it was staring him dead in the eye.

He shifted on the couch. He felt ancy, having questions like that was not something he was used too. What was the point? asking dumb questions, got in the way of big things. like eating for one Denji scolded. But then again things were different now, even he could tell. Perhaps asking questions now wouldnt be so bad? Makima was smart. She would know.

CREAK

The soft creak raised the hairs on his back, Alerting him to Makima. With a red brush in hand, she sat behind Denji. The small dip as she sat caused him lean back closer to her.

"Sit up straight." She ordered sweetly, gentley gathering a lock of hair pulling the brush through slowly.

Those words did not fall on deaf ears. He did as instructed, his back making a satysfying small pop while he adjusted. A small shiver quaked on his skin, feeling Makimas hand weave his hair. It was strangley relaxing, Physical contact being kind was new to him. He closed his eyes to savour the new feeling, burning it into his memory.

"Miss Makima" he perked, his voice lax in bliss.

"Hm?"

"Whats with that painting?" the question slipping from between his teeth. He had a small but harsh suck of air did I cross the line? His mind raced as the short silence hung over him for what felt like a millenia.

"What about the painting?" she replied. Why do adults always ask questions to questions, Frankly to Denji it was annouing. Still, its a relief she wasnt mad for him asking

"Um-" he was cut off by the sudden tug of the brush moving through his hair. "Y-yeah... whys that guy falling?"

"Hes being banished from heaven" she answered. Banished? how could you be banished from heaven? The mere notion was baffling to him. It seemed impossible, its heaven wasnt that place made by angels.

"But... he's an angel.. tho right?" he perked.

"Indeed he was, infact he was Gods greatest. Lucifer, the Light bringer."

Lucifer was Gods greatest? he pondered quietly. His mind wurled, Frankly it didnt make much sense.
"If he..if hes gods greatest how did he fall?"

"He rebelled" she pulled the brush through the base of his hair, His knots being freed. "So god cast him out"

"Rebelled?" he echoed.

"He thought he could rule better than his creator" She replied with a hum. "And for it god struck him down."

He went quiet in contemplation. He looked at the painting. Rebelling was so bad that it could make angels fall from heaven?

Even they have to listen to there boss? He thought quietly. Suddenly, a thought caught him like a fly to spiderweb. Didnt he rebel against his owners?. Before he was certain what he did was just, or atleast fair, but now? he wasnt so certain.

He could feel the panic seep in. He needed answers, some confirmation that he wouldnt be plunged into hell for it. He turned around to look at Makima between brush strokes. There was a short silence as his eyes drifted up to meet hers. "Miss Makima?"

he suddenly felt something lodge in his throat. "Yes Denji?" her eyes glowed with an open curiousity. A curiousity that helped to ease him if only a little.

"Am-" he could feel tears well up in his eyes. Despite his best to fight it, he couldnt hold the water works back for long. "A-am I going to hell for rebelling?" There was silence for a moment, until Makima turned him around.

His face met hers, there gaze holding. She gentley brushed a hand against his cheek, holding him in her palm. She wiped the tears from his eyes.
"Ofcourse not, your good." she gave a small warm smile.

Im good? The mere suggestion melted him. At most the only compliment he got was "Decent killer" or "Of use" and that used to get him far enough. But good? that was an idea he liked.
"-w-what makes me good?" he asked curiously, still a little hesitant to accept.

"You're a puppy, perfectly pure. Hating you in itself is evil." She took a small lock of his stray bangs pulling the brush through gentley.

He grasped at his chest holding the cord tightly. Like pochita he thinks he gets her now. Too her, hes Pochita, Thats why she took him in, she wants to keep me safe. The thought calmed him. He closed his eyes, perhaps this time, this time there won't be strings attatched.

Eventually the brushing was finished, Makima seemed pretty satisfied with the result. The look made him pretty curious to see himself, a tugging anticpation overwhelmed him.

"Want too see?" she cut it, apparently aware of how much it tugged at him. He nodded perfusely, now caught up in his own manufactured excitement.

She let out a soft chuckle taking his hand and guiding him to a mirror in the bathroom. He was shocked, nappy hair now tamed and vibrant in color. The clothes though big, were clean. Im clean. He could only assume they were her clothes, A fact that, though he could never admit it aloud, He was quite happy with.

"What do you think?" her words cut through his wandering thought bringing him back to focus.

He turned up at her. "I like it!" his smile was involuntary. He couldnt help it, he already felt like a million bucks, seeing himself only confirmed it.

She gave a curt nod. "Good. Were in agreement then"

He looked up at her, and a warm wave rushed through him, Relief? he questioned. No it was certainly apart of it but there was something more, Thanks? The word the old man used to try to beat into him. That must be it, he felt thankful to Makima.

He didnt know what to do. Hes never been thankful before. But something nawed at him, his legs felt jittery, ancing with need too move. With not a thought, he acted on it.

He crashed his small frame into her with a hug. Using all his practice with Pochita, squeezing to keep close. "Thank you" His words were muffled against the lower of her shirt.

She seemed to have been caught off guard, if only a little from the small jump she made. Suddenly he felt a hand through his hair.

"Someones jumpy" she giggled.

He was too tired to reply, He was sure she was asking her something, but the warmth of her arms, the cool breeze through his hair, and the still low blood supply all made it fade into static. He felt sleep grab ahold of him. Slipping away.

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Makima smiled. Clean. She picked up the now passed out Denji. Bringing him too the bed. She only had the one, but there was work to be done at her office.

She placed him on the bed, His small frame sinking into half a dozen of pillows. She pulled the blanket over him tucking it over his neck. Her gaze hovered on Denji, watching his restful face at peace.

She leaned down placing a small kiss atop his head. Before slinking out of the room. Closing the bedroom door quietly behind her.