the pact (chainsaw man, aki/reader fanfiction)

chapter 1: new job, who this?

The foggy Tokyo air and soft rain lulls on your windshield. Dressed in all black, you push your knee-high boots to the accelerator of the luxury vehicle you owned. You had tried waterproof mascara today but it didn't help much; you were a total mess after just burying your father. As the only family he had left, all that responsibility fell back on you. While Public Safety had shown up to bestow a bunch of posthumous honors on your father, the experience itself was still overwhelming and it wasn't like you had too many people to lean on for consolation. The only bit of comfort you had is the man who raised you lived a full life—something that couldn't be said for most people in your line of work. Many Devil Hunters died a violent, untimely death but he was lucky enough to retire at the countryside, start a small farm, and watch Sakura bloom every Spring.

The tawny skin on your cheeks was stained a gradient of greyish-black and you were exhausted. At this point, you just wanted to make it home and rest. Tomorrow was a big day because you were starting at Public Safety, shifting from the private sector work you'd done since entering the fold as a Devil Hunter. Your father had an air-tight will to safeguard his small fortune and part of that will included a recommendation directly to the Chairperson of Headquarters for you to become a Public Safety Devil Hunter upon his death. He always opposed your decision to work in the private sector and felt that the reward did not outweigh the risk; while private sector work was often less dangerous, it provided less protection and security, and could be morally devoid at times. As far as you knew, your father had worked for Public Safety all of his adult life. He had a past of course, but you were never privy to it.

You reflect in silence on what this transition meant for your life. Admittedly, you were not looking forward to leaving private sector work. It provided you with so much freedom and flexibility and frankly you were irritated that your father still managed to exercise control in your life even from the grave. As you pull into your driveway, you spend a few more moments collecting your thoughts before heading inside your home to start your evening routine. You remove your wig, undo the braids twisted down to your scalp, and quickly shower and wash your hair. You moisturize and twist your hair down again, capping it with a satin bonnet. You didn't have much of an appetite, which was always the case when your emotions overcame you, so you decided to call it a night and sleep away at least some of your grief.

~~

It was the morning of your first day at your new job. You rolled out of bed, still grief-stricken, but there were bills to pay and a new duty to fulfill. You'd chosen to donate most of your father's assets, wanting to pave your own way. During your time as a private sector Hunter, you'd made quite the name and reputation for yourself and had the luxuries to prove it. Although today was the beginning of a big transition, your morning schedule wouldn't change much: do a brief yoga exercise, shower, brush your teeth, style your curls, get dressed, drink your morning coffee, and try to eat breakfast. Public Safety had a uniform sent over to your flat. It was the standard issue of black slacks, a white button-down with a black blazer, a black tie, and black sneakers with white soles. The fabric fell on your curves in a way that eluded many women in Japan. Hopefully, you wouldn't draw too much attention. Two of the things you'd miss about working privately were the ability to dress how you wanted and the ability to set your own schedule.

Headquarters was a quick drive away and you were being intentional about being punctual. You are greeted at the door by a secretary who leads you to an office where you are met by three individuals. Seated behind the desk is a woman of average height, with coral pink hair pulled back in a braid, long bangs hanging in the front, and yellow irises. Seated in two chairs to the left of the desk are a lanky boy with blonde hair that couldn't be a day over 16, and a female with ashy blonde hair, Devil horns, and sharp teeth. Both appeared unbelievably unserious which already annoyed you this early in the morning.