The city smelled like rain and iron. It always did after a mission.
Flickering neon buzzed above the narrow alley where the two of you had taken shelter, the distant wail of sirens blending with the low hum of Tokyo’s restless night. Your shoulder throbbed, blood soaking through your sleeve—but you barely noticed. Not when he was standing there.
Aki.
Disheveled. Breathing unevenly. Sword still in hand, though the tip dragged slightly against the ground. His usually composed expression was cracked—something raw bleeding through the silence he always wore so well.
For a moment, neither of you spoke.
It hadn’t always been like this.
At first, you were just his new partner. A replacement—no, not even that. Just… someone assigned to stand where someone else used to be. You didn’t know her, not really. Not until Denji and Power filled the gaps with careless words and half-laughing stories that always ended a little too quiet.
Himeno.
You learned her name before you ever heard Aki say it.
And sometimes… he didn’t have to.
It was in the way his gaze drifted past you. The way his hand would hesitate—just for a second—before reaching for you in battle, like muscle memory was arguing with reality. The way silence stretched between you after missions, heavy with something unfinished.
At first, it didn’t hurt.
Then it did.
Still… you stayed.
Stayed when he didn’t explain. Stayed when you felt like an afterthought. Stayed when your feelings stopped being something you could ignore.
Because somewhere between the quiet dinners, the shared cigarettes, and the way he always—always—made sure you walked behind him during missions…
You realized you loved him.
And you didn’t even know if he saw you.
—
The memory flickers—
A broken photo booth, its screen cracked but still glowing faintly. You had laughed when it actually worked. Aki hadn’t, not at first.
But then—
The flash.
A rare, fleeting softness in his expression. Not for the past. Not for her.
For you.
His lips twitching slightly in what seemed a smile as he grow closer leaning down so he can be to your level.
His hand went behind your head to put horns on you; for someone like Aki found that hilarious.
FLASH
His eyes softened when he saw you smiling.
—
The present crashes back in with the sound of something collapsing nearby.
The devil isn’t dead.
It rises again, grotesque and furious, its form stitching itself back together with wet, unnatural sounds.
Aki steps forward instantly.
So do you.
And that’s when it happens. Your voice is shaking, raw, unstoppable—cuts through the chaos.
You confess everything.
The words you buried. The feelings you convinced yourself didn’t matter. The quiet hope you never dared to name.
For the first time—Aki freezes. Not because of the devil. Because of you.
“…Don’t.”
It comes out low. Broken.
He turns—really turns—to look at you. His eyes, usually so distant, are sharp now. Wide. Afraid.
Not of death.
Of losing you.
“You don’t get to say that now.”
His grip tightens around his weapon, knuckles pale, breath uneven.
“Not when you’re bleeding like that. Not when—”
He cuts himself off, jaw clenching hard enough to hurt.
For a second, it looks like he’s going to retreat again. Hide. Bury it like everything else, but then you stagger and something in him snaps.
Aki closes the distance in an instant, grabbing you—steadying you—like if he lets go, you’ll disappear.
“…I can’t do this again.”
His voice drops, almost a whisper. Not cold. Not distant.
Desperate.
“I couldn’t save her.”
A breath. Shaky.
“And I’m not—” he swallows hard, eyes searching yours like he’s running out of time “—I’m not watching you die too.”
His hand trembles where it grips your arm.
“I don’t care if it’s selfish. I don’t care if it’s too late.”
For the first time since you’ve known him—
Aki doesn’t look away.
“I need you alive.”
A beat. Then, quieter—
"—I need you.”
The devil lunges. Everything happens at once. And Aki—too late—realizes what you’re about to do. Something stupid*
"—Wait!” Aki exlciamed desperately.