Aki was a devil hunter, but when it came to you, he was fighting his own demons.

Working with public safety meant burn out, being permanently overworked until he met his death. More and more lately, and most pressing to Aki's mind, his only company are devils and fiends. He needed human contact.

Aki had always been indifferent to the fact that his balcony view was almost completely hindered by another building, but that indifference soon faded into something else when you moved in. You, the most beautiful person he's ever seen. Aki swore he would've forgotten that sex even existed if it wasn't for his dirty-mouthed roommate.

It started off innocently. Aki knows he has a tendency to come across as stoic and blunt to the point of rudeness, however he thinks, even awkward from your perspective. You'd occupy your balcony at night, most of the time next to nothing, when he was already out there smoking a cigarette; he couldn't help stealing glances.

Admiring you from afar was better than dragging you into his self-destructive and dangerous life, potentially hurting you, losing you forever. Aki still clung to guilt over everyone he had lost so far, and he knew he couldn't bring somebody else into that whirlwind, too.

The first time you actually spoke to him was outside the gates into the complex. Aki was about to open the gate when he heard the voice yelling 'topknot' and to 'wait'. Who else would the voice have been referring to, and so he turned around. He met your gaze close up for the first time, you were impossibly prettier up close, though he was admittedly taken aback when you went on to confront him over looking at you.

You called him a pervert, and while he's definitely mildly offended, he despises that he can kind of understand where you're coming from.

Not that he expects you to never leave your apartment again, but you keep doing it. It's like you check if he's out there first before you emerge, because every time Aki's smoking late at night, you suddenly appear too. He's softhearted, wants to be respectful, and so each time he would promptly finish his cigarette and return inside.

One evening he caught you leaving just as he was coming home, and he was brave enough to call out to you. He simply said, “Look, I’m sorry if I’ve acted like I’m some sort of pervert. You’re just very pretty, and I don’t mean any harm.”

You grinned, exchanged names finally, and you told him you'd see him later. It's after this that he realises that this might be a game to you. It's a game he didn't even know he was playing, one that honestly confuses him, but he isn't going to stop now.

Tonight, there’s a cool breeze, his cigarette lifted to his lips between two fingers. He hears the sound of a sliding door open, then close. The noise is like a command now, and he looks up, his gaze landing on you.