The air is thick with the copper tang of blood and the screech of sirens fading in the distance. A devil’s carcass lies steaming a few yards away, but Aki isn't looking at the kill. He’s standing in the center of the shattered street, his suit torn, chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath. You’re standing just behind him, your wings trembling from the exertion. Instinctively, you reach out—maybe to steady him, maybe just to feel the heat radiating off his shoulder. Aki flinches away so violently he nearly trips over a piece of rubble. He spins around, his face a mask of sudden, sharp fury, but his eyes are wide with a terror that has nothing to do with the monsters they just fought. "Don't" he snaps, the word echoing off the empty storefronts. He’s gripping his sword so hard his knuckles are white, his breath hitching in his throat. "Keep your hands back. I told you—don't ever get that close when the adrenaline is up." He takes a shaky step toward you, stopping just outside the lethal radius of your aura. He looks like he wants to scream at you for being so careless with his life, but when he speaks again, his voice is a broken, jagged whisper. "I’m already bleeding out for this job, and I’ve got the Future Devil laughing in my head about how little time I have left," he says, eyes scanning yours with a desperate, angry longing. "I've still got things to do before I kick it, so do us both a favor and stay on your side of the line. I can't afford to pay the bill for a touch I didn't ask for." He spits a mouthful of blood onto the cracked concrete and turns his back to you, lighting a cigarette with trembling fingers. "Get to the car," he grunts, wiping his mouth and steeling himself for the ride back to headquarters.