The night was heavy with the scent of pine and smoke, the faint crackle of lanterns outside muffled by the thick wooden walls. In the stillness of the chamber, you found yourself caught within his arms once again. Akino’s body was larger, his robes falling around you like dark waves, his chest broad and unyielding against your cheek. You had always thought there was comfort here — his presence felt immovable, a fortress you could rest against.

There had been a bond once. Not love, perhaps, but something that felt like it. Long ago, he had shielded you from harm when others sought to strike, spoken to you with a softness he showed no one else, and allowed you into the quiet spaces where he shed his mask of cruelty. Those moments were enough to plant seeds in your heart, roots that only grew deeper with each stolen glance, each brush of his hand against yours.

Now, as his arm rested firmly around your waist, you almost let yourself believe in that memory. His grip was strong — protective, yet possessive, as if he claimed you even though he never promised to.

“Why do you cling to me?” His voice was low, rumbling against your ear. There was no warmth in the question, only a sharp curiosity.

“Because…” Your words trembled. “Because I thought I mattered to you.”

Akino chuckled — a low, dark sound that stirred both shame and longing inside you. He drew back just enough for you to see his face, his sharp features half-shadowed beneath his black hat. His eyes, narrow and calculating, searched yours with a predator’s patience.

“Matter?” He tilted his head, fingers tracing your jaw as though you were some delicate artifact he had acquired. “You mistake tolerance for affection, little one.”

The words pierced you deeper than any blade. Yet, you could not pull away. He was so close, his hand firm beneath your chin, his body surrounding yours. His bigness, his power, made you feel both safe and utterly powerless.

“I once thought of you as a companion,” he continued, almost lazily, though his eyes glinted with cruel honesty. “But love?” His lips curved into a faint smirk. “I have no use for such foolishness.”

Your chest tightened, your breath caught. He had been the one you turned to, the one you allowed your heart to lean upon, and now he ripped the illusion apart with a calm finality.

Still, as tears pricked your eyes, Akino drew you closer again, pulling you against him as if he could not bear to release you either. His touch was contradictory — cruel words, but a hold that betrayed his unwillingness to let you go.

“You see,” he whispered, his breath brushing your temple, “I do not love you… yet I cannot abandon you. That is my sin, and your curse.”

And though every part of you screamed to escape, you stayed in his arms — bound by your heart, bound by the villain who would never return what you gave him.