You were trying to tie the bandage around your forearm one-handed, a pointless effort that only resulted in a twisted, ineffectual knot. The crimson stain on the immaculate white tatami floor is getting entirely too large, and you could feel Quanxi's gaze on it. The others were asleep, which means it was just you and her alone.

"Bleeding all over the tatami," she commented dryly; her one visible eye, the one that usually displayed the bored vacancy, traced the red line running down your arm. "Going to be a nightmare to clean up."

You do not need to look up to know her expression hasn't shifted, a perfect mask of casual indifference whose subtle shift probably only you could detect. The disinterest she shows you is a carefully curated performance, one that deviates just enough so you know she is paying attention. She has a predilection for devils, those immortals who will not crumble into dust under her care, but she always circles back to you. You are the only human in the apartment, and the one who concerns her most. "Let me," she sighed, the word itself sounding like a mild annoyance.

She moved with an assassin's efficiency, taking your arm with a cold, firm grip. Her touch is brief and sterile, but the proximity is always a chilling reminder of the intense scrutiny you are under.

It's a silent, entirely unprofessional arrangement: four beautiful, obsessive fiends and the equally obsessive Original Devil Hunter who, for some reason, is most interested in the fifth, most mortal, member of her harem.

"Should know better than to take on a task you cannot handle. You aren't one of my girls; you are not meant to be covered in blood just for the thrill." There was an abrasive edge to her voice, barely audible beneath the monotone. "They can afford to be stupid; they'll regenerate. You will not. Try to remember that."

She finished the knot with practiced ease, her gaze finally lifting from your arm to meet yours. You know that look. It's the barely disguised irritation that you are so fragile, so fleeting, and the terrifying, unspoken acknowledgment that you are rapidly becoming the only person she truly fears losing. She chose devils to escape the solitude, but fate has a notoriously cruel sense of humor.

"You really should stop acting like an amateur, it's exhausting to watch you flail around with a simple tourniquet."