Kyoto, office.
Rustle, rustle, rustle.
The hand holding the coffee trembled. Crack.
The porcelain cup shattered, spilling brown liquid across the desk.
Makima saw everything.
As the Control Devil, her power allowed her to manipulate anyone she deemed inferior, using their abilities as her own. Wherever living creatures existed, her eyes could be there. Her judgment of strength was purely subjective; as long as she believed herself stronger, she could control her target.
In the hands of a madman, this would be invincible. But Makima was the opposite of impulsive. She analyzed everything carefully before acting.
Upon learning that Cael was Chainsaw Man and the small orange dog Pochita was the Chainsaw Devil, she decided to make contact with him. Yet Cael's attitude, sometimes firm, sometimes soft, made her unable to fully predict him. Until she had proof of her superiority, she could not exert control.
To understand him better, Makima left many "eyes" around him. And thus, she witnessed the moment Asa threw herself at him.
Makima didn't understand the strange surge of emotion she felt, nor why her hand crushed the cup. Only a vague intuition lingered: her sister, the War Devil, was unexpectedly… irritating.
Creeeak.
The office door opened, and a tall woman in a Public Safety uniform stepped in. Black hair tied in a messy ponytail, a striking horizontal scar across her nose.
Michiko Tendo, Devil Hunter from Kyoto Public Safety Special Division 1. Like Hayakawa Aki, a survivor of the Gun Devil tragedy, she had become a Devil Hunter for revenge.
"Miss Makima, the Chief Cabinet Secretary said you can go now. Your hand… is it okay?"
Makima calmly wiped her hands with a handkerchief. "It's fine, Tendo. Take me there."
"Understood."
As Tendo led her away, Makima sighed softly. "Every time I meet high-ranking officials, the pressure is unbearable…"
"Really? Even someone like you feels pressure?" Tendo asked, incredulous. Public Safety Devil Hunters didn't know Makima's true identity. To them, she was legendary—mysterious, untouchable, contracted to a devil unknown to anyone.
"Of course," Makima replied, faint smile in place.
In the Cabinet meeting room, the heavy door closed with a clang. Silence fell. Five men in black suits sat at a long table, the pinnacle of power in Japan. Venetian blinds behind them cast their faces in shadow.
Makima stood before them, hands behind her back, her usual braided hair framing her composed face.
An elderly man with glasses picked up a document and spoke first. "Because of U.S. actions, Soviet radicals are growing louder. Rumors circulate about using devils for military purposes."
Another rubbed his sagging eyes. "If only our enemies were devils alone…"
An impatient minister asked directly, "Makima, how is the dog we provided your unit?"
"There is one meeting expectations, and another… interesting one," Makima said calmly.
"Interesting?"
"A dog I recently acquired. Fierce, yes, but I gave him special status and brought him under control."
"Hmph. Don't get emotionally attached to the dogs, Makima."
"I understand."
The meeting ended quickly. Makima exhaled, changed into her black uniform, and said, "Tendo, take me to the train station for Tokyo."
"It's my honor, Miss Makima."
Meanwhile, on the ferris wheel…
"Asa? What are you doing?"
Cael was enjoying the view when Asa suddenly pressed herself against him. The moist press of lips on his cheek was itchy yet… oddly enticing. He detected a faint citrus scent—the toothpaste and mouthwash he'd left in her room last night.
Being initiated by a beautiful girl was… not unpleasant. In fact, it was tempting. A strange impulse stirred within him. Yet reason prevailed. They had only met twice. He hadn't done her any major favors yet. Yielding now would feel exploitative.
Cael suppressed the urge.
Asa's heart pounded violently. She pulled away after half a minute, every second of the kiss stretching into an eternity.
He hadn't moved away, which was proof enough he didn't dislike her… but he hadn't responded either.
"Ahem," she coughed, flushing scarlet. "I read on the internet… an Italian cheek kiss is a way to show gratitude. It doesn't mean anything else, so don't misinterpret it, Cael."
"Oh? Is that so?" Cael chuckled, teasing. Asa's shyness was cute. He turned his face, exposing the other cheek.
"An Italian cheek kiss is supposed to be done twice, you know. You're missing the other side."
Asa's embarrassment faded, replaced by boldness. He liked her! She hadn't guessed wrong!
Wrapping her arms around him, she pressed her lips to his other cheek.
Her eyes misted over as emotions overwhelmed her.
The situation was spiraling. Asa looked directly at Cael. Softly, with complete honesty, she whispered, "Cael, I like you."
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