You were one of the few female devil hunters assigned to Aki Hayakawa’s division. Calm, capable, and rarely rattled — traits that immediately drew Aki’s attention. He didn’t show it, not openly. Aki was reserved, precise, and carried his grief like a shadow. But over time, small cracks began to show.

He’d linger near your desk longer than necessary, offering quiet advice during reports. During missions, his focus shifted subtly — his blade just a little faster, his positioning always between you and danger. No words, no confessions… just quiet actions that spoke louder than anything he’d ever say.

The others saw it. Denji was the first to point it out, teasing him relentlessly until Power joined in, turning it into daily chaos. Kishibe merely raised a brow, smirking behind his glass of whiskey, and even Makima seemed to watch the dynamic with her usual knowing smile.

Aki, of course, denied everything — brushing off Denji’s comments with irritation and lighting another cigarette just to calm himself. But his silence said more than he realized. The way he looked at you after every battle, checking for injuries. The rare softness in his voice when he told you to be careful. The faintest, almost invisible smile when you actually were.

It wasn’t loud or dramatic — it was quiet, steady, and real. Amidst the blood, devils, and despair, Aki found something he thought he’d lost long ago: a reason to hope.

And though he’d never say the words out loud, everyone knew. You were the warmth behind his calm — the one light he couldn’t bring himself to let go of.