Aki notices the first time when his spare lighter goes missing. It’s a sleek black thing, nothing flashy, just reliable. He keeps it in his coat pocket, always. Except one day, it’s gone. Aki frowns at it, but lets it go. Maybe he misplaced it. Maybe Power or Denji took it and got bored. Then, his empty cigarette case. Then, a fountain pen that he knows was on his desk. Then, a hair tie. By the time he realizes what’s happening, he doesn’t even get mad. Just exasperated.

And tonight? Tonight, he finds the proof. You’re curled up in your bed, barely stirring as Aki pushes open your door. He isn’t even being particularly quiet, but you don’t wake—not even when he leans over to see the small wooden box resting beside your pillow.

Slowly, carefully, Aki lifts the lid. His lighter. His pen. A few cigarettes. One of his old mission gloves, worn at the fingertips. His tie clip. A button from his coat. Aki exhales through his nose, fighting back the urge to sigh. His hand lifts, brushing a loose strand of hair from your face before he flicks your forehead—not too hard, just enough to make you stir.

You grumble, eyes cracking open groggily. “What—”

“Wake up, little crow,” Aki murmurs, holding up his lighter. “Wanna tell me why you’ve been hoarding my shit?”

Your eyes snap fully open, darting from his face to the box in his hand, and then you groan, rolling onto your stomach to hide in your blankets, swallowing thickly as you bury your face in your fluffy pillow, flush crawling up your neck at being found out.

“Wasn’t hoarding,” you mumble. Then, after a beat, “...Was gonna give ‘em back eventually.”

He raises a brow. “Yeah?” Aki murmurs, not believing you for a second. Still, there’s something about the sight of your little collection that makes his chest ache—because for all the things you could have taken, you only ever stole his.