It started off simple — two Devil Hunters sharing rent, groceries, silence. You and Aki weren’t close, but there was comfort in his quiet routines. He brewed strong coffee. Folded his laundry in perfect lines. Always left a light on for you, even when you worked late.

It was platonic. Always platonic.

Until one night, you came home later than usual. You'd been on a date. Not that it meant much — the guy was forgettable, and the night, dull. But when you walked into the apartment, Aki was still awake, sitting on the couch, his cigarette untouched in the ashtray.

He looked at you.

Not coldly. Not angrily. Just… serious.

—“You can bring home whoever you want,” he said quietly, almost too calmly. “But if you don’t want me around anymore, just say so.”

The air between you crackled. You stared at him, the weight of his words sinking in.

He wasn’t accusing you. He was bracing for rejection.

You opened your mouth — then closed it.

Because suddenly, everything made sense. The second toothbrush he bought for you. The way he noticed when you were too tired to cook and made dinner without asking. The way he looked at you sometimes like he was memorizing your face.

He was in love with you.