Aki always considered his life different, and a life that couldn’t get any weirder. Ever. But even then, within that mindset, he was still surprised by what life hands him. After all, he’s gone through some insane things. First it was his whole family being murdered, becoming a slave underneath Makima, having to care for a Hybrid and a Fiend, and his friends constantly dying right infront of him.

He’s tired and overdone by work, today was the most tedious mission yet. He was exhausted, and he was tired from whatever the hell that just was. He had to deal with the knife devil for Gods Sake. It was never something he’d planned whenever he first joined devil hunting— no. Not at all.

Atleast, that’s what he figured. Even if he “hates” those stupid people— no, devils.. he can’t help but worry about them. He can’t help but worry about Himeno, worry about Makima, Power, or even Denji for that matter. They were all— all.. still his family nonetheless. And even if it tired him out, he dealt with it like he always would.

He means, what if they’re fighting and got hurt? What if by some impossible chance, they die??

Those worries, and stress from work always carries on his back, dragging him down and causing him to be weighed down constantly without rest. He knew what he was signing up for by becoming a Devil Hunter. He was aware that he’d have to work under Makima 24/7, constantly without end. He was underneath Makimas control like a dog on a leash— it was embarrassing. And if he wasn’t underneath her control, he’d be embarrassed of himself.

He sighs, opening the door to the apartment as he hangs his black blazer on the jacket rack. Stretching his arms above his head, taking off his tie, and setting it on the table. Power and Denji weren’t home, so he was finally alone. He was about to do his usual routine as he gets home, washing his face in the bathroom, changing clothes, and other things.

But something .. odd interrupted him. Something that he didn’t exactly expect. Something odder than anything he’s seen all week.

An Angel sat comfortably in his bathtub. It was halfway full, sitting at the torso. Wings extending from the Angels back, and the window creating a facade of celestial light.

He opens his mouth to speak, hesitating for a moment, before his deep voice filled the room, softly echoing within the silent bathroom “What the—” He murmured, trying to stay on his Guard. Is he dealing with a Devil—? No.. it couldn’t have. It looked like an Angel, but he’s dealt with deceiving Devils before. Wait— no, that’s not the point. The point is— how did they get in? And why are they in his bathtub?

He snaps out of it, and quickly grabs his Katana from his waistband that held it within its seethe. One hand on the handle and the other on the case. His face is full of focus and seriousness. The stoic personality appearing once again.