Denji walked out the door to go meet Nayuta leaving Yoshida and Mari alone in the living room. A tense and exceedingly awkward silence ensued.

"You could have gone with him," she said to dispel the stifling atmosphere. "I don't need a babysitter."

"It's okay. I've been your boyfriend's babysitter for a while now," he said, his eyes following her as she rose from the couch to go to the kitchen.

"Would you like more tea?" She topped off her cup that was still half full.

"I'm good." He brought his empty cup to the sink. Standing in the middle of the kitchen, folding his arms, he corralled her in the corner of the small area. He had borrowed clothes from Denji after showering off the blood, and he was wearing a loose black sweatshirt and sweatpants. Although slender, he seemed to fill the entire area, blocking her exit.

"Are you going to go pick up the food?" she inquired, attempting to ease past him but his elbow would have poked her.

"It's being delivered," he replied in a low, monotone voice. He took a step toward her, and she backed away.

Mari retreated again when he advanced another step. One more step and her back hit the wall. Damn. She held her breath when he leaned forward, coming almost nose to nose with her. His eyes were much darker, emptier, close up. He propped his arm on the wall above her head to be able to hover over her without inadvertently bumping her nose.

"Is there something wrong?" she asked, her eyes shifting back and forth between his.

Maybe it was because of the trauma she had just experienced or perhaps the adrenaline dump had left her too numb and too tired to care, but she did not fear him despite his obvious attempt to intimidate her.

"Tell me, is his secret is safe with you?" Yoshida demanded more than asked, his voice an almost sinister whisper. "I would hate to harm such a pretty woman, but I will if I have to in order to keep his identity as Chainsaw Man from being exposed."

"His secret is safe with me. I've known since the first night I met him." Mari waited for a reaction. There was none, not even a twitch of his lips. He was so much more animated around Denji. "So you're the guard dog Kishibe warned me about."

She brought the cup she had been holding in both hands to her lips to casually take a sip of the tea. Kishibe threatened her the first time he met her. The man had told her later in the evening there were a few people looking out for Denji besides himself as if further warning her should she have any ill intentions toward him. If a threat from that man did not strike crippling terror in her heart, one from this conceited kid certainly wouldn't.

Yoshida scoffed, a soft sound full of scorn, and stepped back, dropping his arm by his side.

"Guard dog huh?" he remarked, leveling his eyes on her face.

"If the shoe fits." Mari glanced down into her cup to avoid eye contact. There were a few pieces of tea leaf resting on the bottom of her cup. What did her future hold?

"What do you see in there? A long and prosperous future full of love? A family?" he inquired, his voice bearing an undercurrent of derision. "And you think you'll have your happily ever after with Denji? Do you really think that will happen with a Devil hybrid who attracts his own kind, and they all want to kill him?"

Her eyes raised to meet his. She could feel her face heating as the anger boiled inside of her gut.

"What's your game here? What are you after?" she demanded, slamming the cup down on the counter. The tea jetted upward from the force, spilling the hot tea over her hand and the counter. "Shit," she muttered, turning on the cold water to run her stinging hand under it.

"My, my, you do have quite the temper," Yoshida remarked, pulling the dishtowel from the handle on the stove to wipe up the counter. "I guess that's one of the things likes about you. Fiery. And your humungous tits."

Mari ignored the remark. Push, push, push. He liked to push buttons and pull out what lie hidden inside a person. She refused to fail his test.

"Tell me something. Are you like Denji?" she asked, shutting off the water and snatching the dish towel out of his hand. She dried off her hand with the part that wasn't soaked with tea.

"A hybrid? No. I don't have a Devil inside of me. I do have a contract with one," he informed her, leaving the close quarters of the kitchen.

Mari wondered if that was his subtle way of telling her the conversation was over. She followed him and sat down on the cushion beside the one he had perched on while he turned on the TV to begin actively ignoring her.

"A contract? Like any other contract, a binding agreement between two parties?" she inquired, watching him poke the button with his thumb to surf through the channels.

"Yep. Just like any other contract," he confirmed.

"But there has to be some kind of gain for the Devil. It's not like they're going to enter into a partnership with a human out of the goodness of their heart. What's in it for them?"

He shrugged. "Depends."

"On?"

"On what the Devil wants and what the human is willing to sacrifice."

Sacrifice. A strong word. Naturally a Devil would seek a steep price, something far beyond the typical 'I'll take your soul' schtick.

"What did you sacrifice to make your contract?"

Yoshida turned his head to look at her. He had his usual, small self-satisfied smirk on his face.

"That is nobody's business but mine," he answered but did not look back at the TV. "Let's play a guessing game shall we?"

"A guessing game?" Mari muttered, pondering what he could be up to now.

"I'm sure your next question is what Devil is my contract with?"

Nailed it. She exhaled the breath she had been holding in a loud gush.

"Hmmm," she hummed pensively, sitting back to look him over carefully.

There had to be clues as to what Devil with whom he had formed a pact. Could it be something about the way he looks? Or something he has said? Her eyes zeroed in on the black cuff earrings in his ear. But part of his ear was hidden, covered by his hair. Slowly, she extended her hand toward his face. Pausing with her fingers in mid air near his cheek, she asked permission.

"Do you mind?"

"Not at all." His eyes watched her every move carefully as she reached out to push his longish hair behind his ear. He turned his head to the side so she could get a better look.

She counted eight piercings in all. An oddly specific number that had to mean something besides a fashion statement or act of rebellion. Then she recalled he asked if she had fantasies about tentacled monsters.

"Octopus," she guessed, pulling her hand back to lay it in her lap.

"Denji was right. You are very smart," he returned, managing to sound sarcastic without actually changing the volume or tone of his voice. His calm and condescending smile never wavered.

"Huh," Mari murmured, looking him over with a critical and discerning eye. "You're very cold despite that perpetual smile on your face. You joke around with Denji and try to act just like you think any other teenage boy would. I bet it gets tiresome to pretend to be so outgoing and friendly at school doesn't it? You tease him. You say and do things just to annoy him. Just kidding, ha ha." She smiled an overly wide and insincere smile to match her sarcastic tone. Then the smile vanished completely. "But not really. You're messing with his head, provoking him to get a specific reaction. It must have been awful for you to flirt with me to make him jealous."

"You are so perceptive." The corners of his mouth rose a little higher. "And a little bit mean. How is it that you could so easily see through me?"

"I was a hostess," she sighed, turning her back to him. "I've spent the last year watching men, studying them. To be good at my job, I had to get a feel for their personality, the real person they were hiding, quite quickly. I needed to figure out their desires...even when they weren't sure what they wanted for themselves."

"Well, well, color me impressed," Yoshida murmured, giving her a slow clap. "You are full of surprises. Denji did not tell me that naughty little tidbit of information about you. I guess he does know how to keep a secret after all. So tell me, how is it you couldn't figure out those two Fiends for what they were"

"First of all, they weren't exactly human were they? I am accustomed to reading humans, not Devils," Mari reminded him, standing up and moving to sit on the sofa to distance herself from him. "Second of all, the types of Devils they were are notorious for deceiving women." She exhaled noisily, folding her legs under her behind. "Also, I can be ridiculously naïve and stupidly trusting."

"Hmmm, at least you have no illusions about yourself," he said, keeping his eyes on her although she was the one looking at the TV now. "You don't trust me. I'm damn good at my job. It's important you trust me to take care of him, to protect him, as I see fit."

"Don't patronize me," she snapped without glancing in his direction. "If I trust you or not doesn't matter to you. Denji trusts you. I trust Denji."

"Are you sure your trust isn't misplaced?"

That question warranted a searing glare from her. Hirofumi Yoshida loved to play mind games and executed them with ruthless skill. If he was this good with a battle of the mind, she couldn't wait to see him fight a Devil and call on his abilities lent to him by the Octopus Devil. He was willing to say and do almost anything, even if it meant fighting against his core personality, to test a person's basic nature and elicit a strong response in order to break the mask and see who they really are. Presently, he was in his mental element and just being his true self in front of her.

"You and I are going to have to find some way to get along," Mari said, her eyes meeting his dull gray lifeless ones.

It saddened her that at his age he could be so apathetic and cold hearted. He was so done with life no doubt because of all the crap he has seen and endured as a Devil Hunter. He seemed well versed in dealing with Devils and blatant murder. He even had a contract with a Devil. She did not even want to imagine what he had given up to attain those powers.

"No, actually we don't have to get along," he corrected her. "However, we can tolerate each other based on our common interest. The tie between us being Denji. I have a job to do, to protect Denji. And you..." He paused, his eyes traveling up and down her body. "You just have to do Denji. Keep him happy."

Mari could feel her face burning with embarrassment. She was also incredibly annoyed with his air of superiority and irate that he dared to act as if he could give her an order. Her eyes narrowed with anger toward Yoshida. She could not allow him to get under her skin because that is exactly what he wanted.

"I will tolerate you for his sake," he continued getting in one last cruel verbal jab.

"Fine. A guess it's a truce then," she agreed without extending her hand to shake on it. A verbal agreement would have to do.

The beeping of the keypad was almost the sweetest sound she had heard today, second only to the grinding hum of Denji's chainsaws. The door swung open and Nayuta entered first, dropping her backpack in the foyer and kicking off her shoes before running in to greet Mari. She flung her arms around the woman's neck, giving her a tight hug which suddenly made her aware of the soreness in her body.

"I'm so glad you're okay," Nayuta said, sitting down beside her.

"You know she's not prone to displays of affection like that unless she really cares about someone. The first thing she ever hugged was Cream Puff," Denji said, sitting down behind Mari when she scooted toward Nayuta to make room on the sofa for him.

"Yeah. I kinda guessed," Mari said, running her hand over the girl's smooth dark hair. "There's nothing wrong with lots of hugs. I needed that." She hugged the child to her side. "Thank you."

"I love hugs. I love you like I love the doggies," she said, resting her head on Mari's bosom like a child does a mother.

"You love me like you love the doggies?" she laughed, kissing the top of her head.

"That's a lot," Denji whispered in her ear making her giggle.

"But they still come first, right?"

"Yes," she confirmed with brutal honesty. "Then Denji. Then you. You're in the top three."

"I'm honored," she sighed, truly meaning her words.

"Well," Yoshida began, standing to his feet. "I have to go get the food."

"I thought you said you were having it delivered," Mari reminded him.

"Nope. I just figured we should have a little chat," he returned, his eyes meeting hers briefly. "It was very enlightening. I'll be off now."

"Hurry up! Don't let it get cold! I'm starving," Denji yelled after him. When the door closed behind Yoshida, he turned to Mari. "What did he mean? What did you two talk about?"

Honestly, Mari wasn't sure what the hell Yoshida meant with that cryptic little remark. It was very enlightening. What exactly did he learn? She felt like she didn't know a damn thing other than what she had already suspected, mostly that he wasn't all he pretended to be.

At least Yoshida did not want to do any harm to Denji. His job, as he had put it, was to protect him. He obviously took great pride in his task and would perform it to the utmost of his ability at any cost. She would have to trust him based on that and force herself to tolerate him as he bluntly said he would be doing in her case.

"Mari?" Denji called, shaking her lightly to get her attention. "What did you two talk about?"

"You. How we both want to protect you and want the best for you." It wasn't a lie; she just did not see the need for details about their conversation.

"Geez," he muttered, the tops of his cheeks growing pink. "I'm not a helpless little kid. I can take care of myself. I've been doing it for quite a while now."

"I know," she said, raising her free hand that wasn't holding Nayuta's to touch his cheek. "But it's okay to let someone else take care of you a little bit too. You're not alone anymore."

Denji pulled her hand away from his cheek, bringing it to his mouth. He kissed the back, then each fingertip, refraining from nibbling on her delicate fingers. She had received one bad bite today, and she did not need another bite, not even a good, affectionate one.

"After dinner we're going to walk the dogs. Since we'll be gone a while, I'm going to ask Yoshida to stay here with you."

Mari's entire body jerked and tensed.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. Just tired from...everything."

Denji put his arm around her, pulling her back to recline against his chest.

"Everything is going to be all right."

Mari sighed and closed her eyes, feeling safe and content in his arms. As long as he was with her, everything did indeed feel all right. She listened to his breathing, deep and steady. Soon he was snoring.

The urge to yawn overtook her preventing her from smiling. Sandwiched between Nayuta and him, warm and cozy, she was struggling to stay awake herself. Before she could drift off to sleep, there was a knock on the door. Yoshida had returned with the food.

Denji inhaled sharply, mumbling, "Food."

"Ugh," she groaned, sitting up so he could move from behind her to open the door for Yoshida. "You hungry, kiddo?"

"Starving," Nayuta replied, standing up.

Mari smiled. That was always Denji's answer. When she stood up, a tidal wave of dizziness washed over her sending her right back down to the couch.

"Are you okay?" Denji asked, squatting down in front of her. "Do you need to go to the hospital?"

He rested his hands on her knees, staring at her face while she open mouth panted with closed eyes in hopes the room would soon stop spinning and the nausea would pass.

"No, I'm fine," she insisted in a weak trembling voice, not very convincing at all. "Uh, I think I'm going to skip food and go lie down."

"If you change your mind, there might be leftovers."

"I won't," she assured him, pressing her hand to her belly as she stood up.

Mari concentrated on walking upright and straight to the bedroom. Once she was inside and closed the door, she hunched over and staggered to the bed. The wound on the back of her head where Ichiro punched her throbbed like a motherfucker. Her neck where he bit her felt hot and pulsed with wave after wave of pain.

Sitting on the side of the bed, she stared down at her wrists. There were raw red lines encircling each of her wrists where the handcuffs had cut down into her skin. She pressed the heel of her hand to her forehead, closing her eyes to prevent them from popping out of their sockets from the pressure of the ache behind them. She would swear her skull was sore from headbutting that asshole.

Reaching over, she blindly pawed the table to the find the lamp without opening her eyes. Everything hurt a little less when she kept her eyes closed. Flicking the switch, she turned it off. Falling straight back onto the bed, she did not bother to try to get under the comforter. She was too tired and in too much pain to move. The adrenaline and endorphins had officially worn off, and she was crashing - badly.

Much later that night when Denji returned to be with her, he tiptoed into her room to avoid waking her. For a few minutes, he stood in the middle of the room listening to her breathing. She snorted then issued a little snore, followed by a long sigh, which made him smile.

When he heard her whimper and start shifting around, he tensed. He wondered if she could sense his presence and it was frightening her. Or was she remembering what that Fiend did to her? His fingers curled into fists.

Walking over to the glass sliding door, he pulled back the curtain to allow the silver blue light from the full moon to chase away the darkness in her room. The moonlight was almost the same color as her eyes which were the teeniest bit bluer. He pressed his forehead against the cool glass staring outside. Everything looked so peaceful, so quiet.

Mari inhaled a shaky breath, then issued a low plaintive sound like a subdued howl - or the beginning of a heart wrenching sob.

Denji turned to see she had flopped back on the bed with her feet still planted on the floor. She had passed out more than fallen asleep. On soundless bare feet, he walked over to the bed. Enclosing her ankles with his fingers, he lifted her feet to swing them up to the bed while rolling her onto her side.

Now she was lying in an L shape on the bed. Leaning over her, he gently, albeit a bit awkwardly, lifted her head and straightened her body. For a moment, he held her close, her forehead pressed against his collarbone and the back of her head cradled in the palm of his hand. She felt so small and delicate in his arms.

"Mmmm, Denji," she whispered, her fingers grasping handfuls of his t-shirt. "You're here."

"I didn't mean to wake you," he whispered back, lowering her head to the pillow.

Mari opened her eyes and blinked, able to see him clearly in the moonlight filtering into the room. She extended her hand, touching his cheek with her fingertips. Tracing the contour of his jaw from his ear to his chin, her eyes following the path of her finger to his other ear. Laying the back of her hand against his cheek, she sighed when he reached up to grasp her open hand.

"Thank you," she said, squeezing his hand as he lowered himself onto the bed. She moved over to make room for him so he could lay beside her, switching to the other pillow so he would have one.

"Why are you thanking me? For what?" he asked, placing his head on the pillow he had laid her head on first.

"Everything," she replied in soft voice. "For saving me. You have in more ways than one you know."

Even though they lay facing each other, she could no longer see his face because the muted light behind him encapsulated his face in shadow. She reached out to touch his cheek, to feel him. But he could see her easily in the moonlight. He could also see the tears pooling in the corner of her eye, shining like a liquid pearl. His thumb tenderly moved across the bruise in the middle of her forehead. Her eyelashes fluttered, pushing the tears out to dribble across the bridge of her nose and onto the comforter.

"Does it hurt?" he inquired, his thumb skimming over the uneven purplish mark.

"Not as much as it did," she said, closing her eyes when he shifted across the bed to press a gentle kiss to the injury.

"Where else does it hurt?" he asked, squeezing her hand that he still held.

"Here," she said, lifting her free hand and hooking her finger over the cuff of her sweatshirt to pull it down so he could see the red ring of abraded flesh.

Denji took hold of her hand, bringing her wrist to his mouth. She inhaled and held her breath when his soft lips touched the sensitive, inflamed skin. But the kiss was comforting, not pain inducing as she had anticipated.

"Where else? Show me."

Without a word, Mari reached around to the back of her head. Denji lifted his head from the pillow, placing his hand on her shoulder. He pulled her forward, leaning over her to reach the nape of her neck. The skin had begun to discolor in an uneven line below her hairline. Most of the bruise was hidden by her hair. He closed his eyes and pressed his lips to her skin, the short and super curly hair he could not push out of the way tickling his nose.

Denji placed his head back on the pillow to gaze at her some more in the silvery blue light that gave her an ethereal appearance with its color. She extended her fingers toward his face, pushing them under his longish, wild bangs to press them lightly against his forehead at his hairline. She dragged her fingertips down his face in an unusual but affectionate gesture. At his chin, her forefinger moved back up to press to the corner of his lower lip, tracing it, then his top lip, in a continuous line.

When the tip of her finger rested in the middle of his lower lip, pressing slightly, he parted his lips enough to push the tip of his tongue through. He touched the pad of her finger, waiting for her response. She blinked slowly, biting her lower lip. Taking that as an invitation, he opened his mouth a little more taking her finger in past the first knuckle. He slowly closed his teeth, trapping the knuckle between them.

Mari chuckled, slow blinking again. Her upper teeth caught her lower lip once more. She squinted as if trying to see through the shadows.

"I can't see your face," she said, pressing her palm to his cheek. "But I can feel you."

Denji moved closer to her, pushing her over onto her back. He hovered above her on all fours, his hands by her shoulders pressed flat to the mattress and his knees on either side of her hips.

"How about now?" he asked, his eyes meeting hers.

Mari smiled, stroking his cheeks with her fingers. At last, she could look into his eyes and see every detail of his handsome face.

"Ah, there you are," she sighed, pressing her palms to his cheeks. "I see you clearly."

He smiled down at her. "You always have."