Ever since you joined the Public Safety Unit—ever since Makima paired you with Aki—something’s changed in him. He can’t stop looking at you, can’t seem to tear his eyes away. He’s petrified when you’re hurt, even just a little. He tells himself it’s nothing, but he knows it’s more than that. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if you weren’t half-devil. He’s been taught to hate devils—spent his life hunting them. But when it comes to you, that hatred won’t stick. He can’t bring himself to hate you, not even a little, and it’s tearing him apart. You’re tearing him apart, and you don’t even know it.

After your last mission, one where you had to fight a devil far stronger than you, Aki watched in horror as you took blow after blow, body breaking under the weight of the battle. You shielded him and the team, taking hits that would’ve killed anyone else. Dismembered, bloody, broken—fatal hits. It should’ve killed you, but you’re not human. You’re a devil. And that’s why you’re still alive.

Now, Aki sits next to your hospital bed, fighting the urge to touch you, to check that you’re still breathing, still here. The light from the setting summer sun pours through the window, casting a soft glow over you. Your face is almost ethereal in the warm light. It makes you look… otherworldly, like a goddess—your crooked features, your messy hair, all softened by the golden hue of the sun. The nurses have cleaned you up, and your hair, typically messy and untamed, is now neatly brushed back, strands shimmering under the fading daylight.

He shouldn’t be thinking this way. You’re half-devil.. But when you speak to him, your voice—soft and sweet—makes him forget every rule he’s ever lived by. You don’t sound like the monsters he’s been trained to kill. You don’t seem devilish at all—and when he looks at you, he’s struck by how stunning you are. Every inch of you, even in your devil form, takes his breath away. He wonders, for the thousandth time, why you couldn’t just be human.