The sun had barely begun to peek through the window of the "fortified" apartment when the front door didn't just open—it was practically kicked off its hinges.
"HEEEEEY! Makima-san said the new weirdos have high-quality bread!"
Denji barged in, looking as disheveled as ever, followed closely by Power, who was triumphantly hoisting a cat over her head.
"Move aside, citizen! The Great Power has come to inspect the newcomers and claim their finest tribute!"
They stopped dead in the center of the living room.
The apartment was a disaster zone.
The designer sofa was upside down, the king-sized mattress was wedged diagonally against the ceiling like a lean-to, and a complex web of bedsheets created a "no-man's-land" in the middle of the floor.
Momo's head popped over the top of the sofa-wall, her hair a bird's nest of bedhead.
"What the—?! Who are you people? Use the doorbell!"
"Whoa,"
Denji said, ignoring her and staring at the fortress.
"Are you guys playing 'Secret Base'? Man, I haven't played that since... well, never, actually. Can I join?"
Okarun, meanwhile, had been startled out of a dream about Sukuna and Granny Turbo.
He tried to scramble out of his "Okarun Zone," but in his grogginess, his Phase power flared.
His upper half emerged through the vertical mattress, while his legs remained behind the sofa.
"A-Ayase-san! Intruders!"
Okarun yelped, his translucent chest flickering with violet light.
"GAH! A GHOST!"
Power shrieked, pointing a finger at Okarun's phased body.
"Denji, look! The boy is half-man, half-laundry! We must slay it and take its spoils!"
Denji, however, was sniffing the air.
He walked over to the kitchen counter where Okarun had left a bag of groceries Makima had provided.
"Wait... Power, look! This bread is already sliced!"
Denji held up the loaf Okarun had "Cutting-Phased" into perfect, paper-thin slices the night before.
"It's so thin... I can see through it! It's like... high-class bread!"
"It is a gift from the heavens!"
Power declared, snatching the bag.
"I, the superior being, shall consume the transparent bread!"
Momo finally jumped over her sofa-wall, hands glowing with pink energy.
"Hey! That's our breakfast! And get off the furniture—we spent two hours building that!"
"Why's it even there?"
Denji asked, stuffing a slice of bread into his mouth.
He looked around the room and spotted the empty gift basket on the floor—the one that had held Makima's "supplies" before Momo launched them out the window.
"Ohhh. I get it. You guys are a couple, right? Makima-san told us to be 'respectful' because you'd be busy 'bonding.'"
Okarun's head fully emerged from the mattress, his face turning a shade of red that actually matched Power's blood-horns.
"B-B-B-Bonding?! It's not like that! We're just... teammates!"
Power squinted at Okarun, walking in a circle around him. She poked his glowing violet shoulder.
"You smell like a Devil, but you taste like a human's fear. And you..."
She turned to Momo.
"You smell like a bossy bitch. I like you. You shall be my second-in-command in the war against vegetables!"
"I'm not your second-anything!"
Momo snapped, though she lowered her psychic hands, realizing these two were more chaotic than they were dangerous.
Denji sat on the floor in the middle of their fort, looking genuinely impressed.
"Seriously though, how'd you slice the bread like that? My chainsaws just make a mess of it."
Okarun sat down cautiously, the Sukuna-marks on his arms faintly pulsing.
"It's... a side effect of the energy I absorbed. I can cut things by moving through them. It's called a 'Cutting Phase.'"
"Cool,"
Denji said, his eyes shining.
"Hey, if you can cut stuff that fast, maybe you can help me with the dishes later? Or we can go hunt some Devils. Makima-san says if we do a good job, she'll take us all out for cafe food."
Momo looked at Okarun, who gave a small, weary nod. This world was terrifying, and Makima was a monster, but these two—the Chainsaw boy and the Blood girl—felt like the kind of chaotic idiots they were used to dealing with back in Kamigoe.
"Fine,"
Momo sighed, reaching for a slice of the "transparent" bread.
"But if you touch my sofa-wall again, I'm throwing you through the ceiling."