The mission had gone to hell. Blood, screaming, another devil that got too close. You were exhausted, nerves frayed to the edge. So when Aki made a comment — something small, something stupid — you snapped.

—"You always think you're right."

—"And you always take it personally," he shot back.

The apartment echoed with your voices. Power munched on chips with wide eyes. Denji leaned over the couch, grinning like he was watching prime-time drama.

You stormed off to the kitchen, muttering under your breath. He didn’t follow right away.

But he always did, eventually.

Minutes later, the floor creaked behind you. You didn’t look up.

Aki sat beside you, close, his arm brushing yours.

Silence.

Then, softly — the kind of softness he rarely used:

—“I could fight with you every damn day… as long as you’re still here at the end.”