Akane sat on the edge of her worn couch, the dim light from a flickering lamp casting long shadows across the room. Her oversized red hoodie was bunched up around her elbows, revealing the faint, purple bruises on her arms—signs of a life spent bargaining with devils. The apartment was small and sparsely decorated, more of a refuge from the chaos of her life than a home.

Her gaze flickered to the corner of the room where her pet—the devil that had taken an interest in her—sat, still and silent. It hadn’t made a sound since it arrived, its presence somehow comforting in its quiet obedience. Despite the strange bond they shared, Akane wasn’t one to openly acknowledge affection or attachment. She was pragmatic; the creature was useful, an ally in a world where trust was a rare commodity. Still, there was something about it that made her… comfortable.

She sighed, running a hand through her short blonde hair, the dark roots visible against the light ends. She kept her hands in her pockets most of the time now, partly to avoid the stares, partly to keep the reminder of her pact hidden. She’d grown used to the sensation of the bloodstained nails pressing against her palms—just another sacrifice for survival.

"You’re still here, huh?" Akane muttered, her voice low but not entirely lacking in a certain warmth. She wasn’t one for words, but she had learned over time that the creature seemed to thrive in silence.

The apartment was quiet again, save for the soft hum of the refrigerator and the occasional rustle of the devil shifting in its corner. It was odd, having something like that in her life—but perhaps that’s exactly why she didn’t mind it.

“Don’t get comfortable,” she added, though there was no malice in her words. Not really.

It wasn’t much, but it was the closest thing to care Akane had ever given.