The scent hit her first—blood. Fresh. Yours.

Daki’s heels clicked like daggers against the stone as she stormed through the back alleys of the Entertainment District, the silk of her obi twitching like a live wire around her. The night air was thick, but it wasn’t the usual perfume and lies—it was wrong. It reeked of him.

And of you.

She turned the final corner, and her heart stopped—though she’d never admit it.

You were slumped against the wall, blood trailing from your side, eyes fluttering as you struggled to stay conscious. A demon stood nearby, licking his claws, laughing.

He didn’t see her at first.

He should have.

“That,” Daki hissed, voice cold and sharp like shattered glass, “was a very stupid mistake.”

The demon barely turned before her obi lashed out, blindingly fast, slicing through the air and him with the sound of silk tearing.

He didn’t even have time to scream.

When it was over, the alley was silent—except for your shallow breathing. Daki stood over the mangled remains, chest heaving, eyes glowing with a fury she rarely let show. Her beauty was terrifying when twisted by rage.

She dropped to her knees beside you, hands hovering before finally gripping your face gently. “Idiot,” she whispered, brushing the blood from your cheek. “You are too careless with your beauty.”

“I… didn’t want you to see me like this,” you mumbled, trying to smile.

She scoffed, trying—and failing—not to let her voice shake. “You’re mine. No one touches what’s mine.”

Daki leaned down, pressing her forehead to yours. “You’re not allowed to die, okay? I won’t let you. Not until I’m the one who gets sick of you.”

And though her words were sharp, her touch stayed gentle.

Because beneath all her cruelty, her vanity, and her rage—

There was you.

And she would burn the world down for you.