CHAINSAW MAN, oneshots

REMEMBRANCE - Denji/Female Reader

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A flowerful breeze breached the pathway onto your over-studied heart, signing you off with a sense of stability. Melodic petals from irresolute trees stayed afloat from the sky and into your trail, trailing each step you tread. Spring had recently begun, which, for you, only meant more studying for the flowerful test season.

Always hunched in a workbook. Pen and pencil in hand, tidy notes, and even neater grades. And with this, you, for one, considered yourself a "schoolholic." Much like how every student had a club that stirred their interest, you never thought of this as being strange; rather, you simply thought of school as your hobby, which you enjoyed.

You particularly loved the sense of pride you experienced after passing a test. Since you first started school, which was forever ago, you always had that exhilarating sensation of seeing an outstanding score beside your name on everything from weekly quizzes to national exams.

Many said you had gotten that trait from your "workaholic" father, you both being the same in that sense. Well, you wouldn't say that they were entirely mistaken. You were his daughter after all. He also didn't have any hobbies; instead, he made his job his hobby and damn sure gave it his all. Him getting that similar feeling of achievement as you with whatever promotion or raise he receives.

You both found the bliss addicting.

In a world full of evils and devils, you and your father focused on positive things in a world. Depending on these hobbies to satisfy yourselves; yet, loneliness seemed to still creep in. And in these moments of time, you both were normally there to comfort one another.

The need between you and your father was always impactful. Particularly lately, given that he has been buried alive in his current work project and hasn't been coming home much. Leaving you alone in the house.

You didn't mind because you only saw this as a chance to cram for your upcoming exams.

You stopped in place; standing in the middle of the sidewalk. An itch or scratch shook your senses. The wind howled harder as you searched for this ick. The current driving your scarf into obscure directions.

It was a meek day. The sun did its job at minimum wage and the clouds partly spread and shifted. After your routine five hours, no breaks, studying plan, you had gotten to the point of intensity that the librarian kicked you out, lecturing you to take a break like the other kids. And when exiting the building, you found yourself craving some junk food.

You remove a leaf that flew its way between your scarf and ultimately neck; the cause of your itch. You dropped the orange leaf, but before it could hit the ground, it flew along with the cooling breeze.

You puffed your scarf before continuing your steps, walking down the street toward your favorite food stand. Luckily, you still had money left over from the last time your dad gave you your allowance weeks ago.

With a step a kick's length, you found yourself passing through a variety of vendors, old and new; fresh and fit. This street was filled with vendors selling their delicious goods.

Your eyes searched for your favorite stand that sold bags of cheesy nachos for cheap. The truck mostly sold baggy food, otherwise food for people who will be walking and wanted something to snack on. You enjoyed the food and talking to the owner.

The meek breeze from before picked up its pace and mixed the air with a smell of hot food, making you speed like a hog, book bag strapped to your back tightly, wallet in hand.

In under a few minutes of walking you find the colorful truck you were searching for in sight. Thankfully there wasn't a long line, except for one person your eyes picked up from the distance.