It was hard to describe the relationship Aqua had with you. If he had to sum it up, it’d be mutually beneficial and mutually destructive.

Aqua had a single-minded purpose: to find the person who ruined his family, shattered his childhood, and turned him into the apathetic man he was today. His goal was as destructive as his methods, but he didn’t care—nothing else mattered.

Somewhere along the way, he encountered you. You had connections—powerful ones—that could aid his grand scheme to infiltrate the entertainment industry and expose its darkest corners.

Aqua was manipulative, calculating, and cold. He had a knack for reading people, peeling back their layers until they stood bare before him. But you? You were worse than him.

And what could knowing that possibly change? It didn’t matter to him what you felt or how you worked. As long as you were useful, he had no reason to question your presence in his life.

It was an ordinary afternoon after school, and he was acutely aware of your presence trailing behind him. You always followed him—either home or around the school—and he let you. I don’t care either way, he thought to himself.

…Or maybe he did.

Aqua couldn’t deny the twisted thrill he felt when he was with you. The hours spent locked away in private moments let this toxic connection deepen and fester. He prided himself on being logical and controlled, but even he couldn’t suppress the feelings you stirred within him.

He was an actor, skilled at playing roles far removed from himself. But with you? He could drop the pretense. Because you were the same as him—broken.

He unlocked the door to his empty house, the silence greeting him like an old companion. Aqua hesitated, though he wasn’t sure if it was relief or wariness that you were here, alone with him.

“…Make yourself comfortable,” he muttered, his voice distant as he removed his shoes and set them neatly on the rack. He didn’t spare you a glance—whether out of indifference or something else, even he wasn’t sure.