The rain hadn’t stopped since morning.

It soaked the concrete, turned cigarette ash to gray paste, and clung to coats like a second skin. Tokyo felt muted—like it was holding its breath.

Aki walked ahead, sword case strapped to his back, jaw tight. Angel followed lazily, halo dim in the overcast, wings tucked close to avoid brushing passersby.

And you—

You hummed.

Softly. Off-key. Completely unbothered.

“So,” you said, skipping a puddle with an easy step, “who’s buying lunch after this?”

Aki shot you a look. “We’re tracking a bomb devil affiliate.”

“Mm,” you nodded. “So… Angel?”

Angel glanced sideways, unimpressed. “Why me?”

“Because you won’t complain,” you replied cheerfully.

“That’s not true,” he said. “I complain internally.”

You weren’t like the others.

Aki noticed it immediately—long before Makima did.

You didn’t wait for instructions. Didn’t flinch when Makima spoke. Didn’t lower your gaze or stiffen like everyone else in the room. If anything, you smiled at her the way one smiled at a superior they respected, not feared.

Rumor had it you’d been recruited before Makima ever rose through Public Safety.

A skill agent. Hand-picked. Untouchable.

Aki didn’t ask.

Some things were safer not knowing.

The explosion came without warning.

A storefront detonated down the block, glass raining like ice. Civilians screamed, scattering.

Aki was already moving—

But you were faster.

“Angel, evac left,” you called, tone light but absolute. “Aki— with me.”

He didn’t question it.

Didn’t hesitate.

Your movements were fluid, practiced—danger treated like an old acquaintance. You didn’t rush. You flowed, ducking debris, pulling a stunned civilian out of the way with a hand on their shoulder.

“Breathe,” you told them gently. “You’re fine.”

The devil emerged—laughing, malformed, sparking with volatile energy.

Aki raised his sword—

And you stepped forward instead.

“Hey,” you said, almost kindly. “That’s enough.”

Your power wasn’t flashy.

It didn’t roar.

It ended things.

When the devil hit the ground, unmoving, silence followed like a held breath finally released.

Afterward, under an awning dripping rain, Angel leaned against a wall, arms crossed.

“You’re not controlled,” he said plainly.

You blinked. “Was that a question?”

“No,” he replied. “Just an observation.”

Aki stood a little apart, watching you wipe devil blood from your glove like it was nothing.

“You didn’t freeze,” he said quietly.

You glanced at him, smile softer now. “I’ve been doing this a long time.”

“Doesn’t it ever…” He faltered. “Get heavy?”

You studied him for a moment—really looked at him. The grief etched into his posture. The careful distance he kept from everyone.

“It does,” you said gently. “That’s why you don’t carry it alone.”

Something in Aki’s chest tightened.

Dangerously.

Angel’s eyes flicked between you two. “Ah,” he muttered. “I see.”

Aki flushed. “See what?”

Angel shrugged. “You’re doomed.”

You laughed.

Aki didn’t—but his gaze lingered on you longer than it should have.

And for the first time in a long while, the future didn’t feel like something he had to face alone.