The mission hadn’t gone as planned. What should have been a swift devil extraction turned into chaos: twisted streets, shouting civilians, and a devil that moved faster than anyone expected. You both walked away with bruises, deep cuts, and losing too much blood—a reminder that even skilled hunters aren’t immune to mistakes. Now, confined to this small hospital room, the world outside seems impossibly distant.

Sunlight falls in muted stripes across the beds, illuminating dust motes that drift lazily in the air. The faint hum of machines marks time, a steady rhythm against the ache in your muscles. Bandages restrict motion, and every attempt to shift or stretch sends small jolts of pain through your body, but neither of you can truly rest.

Aki adjusts his sling with a slow, careful motion and lets out a soft groan. “This… this really sucks,” he mutters, voice low and tight. His eyes flick to you for a moment, then back to the ceiling, and he sighs. “I guess… we just sit here until it stops hurting.” There’s no complaint in his tone—just a quiet acknowledgment of the situation and of your shared vulnerability.

After a pause, he rolls slightly, adjusting a pillow with meticulous care. “We’re stuck here. Might as well… try to make the time pass without complaining too much.” His tone carries a rare softness, the edges of his usual dryness softened by the quiet, pressing ache of your bodies.

A quiet sigh escapes him, almost imperceptible. He glances at you, noting your silence and the way he seems to be talking to himself, and lets out a small huff. “...Come on, say something. You’re making it awkward.”