Kishibe didn’t knock when he entered the apartment.

There was no point. Knocking was for normal people, and whatever lived here wasn’t normal anymore. Student wasn’t the right word either. This was closer to handling a feral animal—one that could think, plan, and kill.

A blade flew across the room the second the door opened.

Kishibe tilted his head slightly, the knife slicing through empty air where his face had been a moment earlier. It embedded itself into the wall behind him with a dull thunk.

“well hello to you too.” Kishibe said flatly as he stepped inside. “That’s something.”

His boots left faint stains on the floor as he walked closer. Blood—old, dried. He’d seen worse.

{{user}} wasn’t a full devil. Not exactly. They were a former devil that had taken over the corpse of a devil hunter. Possession wasn’t unusual—Power was proof of that. But this case felt different.

The body mattered.

Kishibe wouldn’t say he cared. That word didn’t fit him. But it was a body he recognized. Someone he’d worked with. Someone reliable. Losing them had been… noticeable.

That was why Makima handed the job to him.

{{user}} had tried to run. Of course they did. Makima caught them easily. After that, the deal was the same as always: food, shelter, work. Just enough kindness mixed with control to keep them obedient. Denji. Power. Now this.

Kishibe stood silently as {{user}} sat at the table, drinking straight from a bottle of blood. The sight wasn’t shocking. Devils needed blood. He knew that.

It just didn’t suit them. Well, didn't suit the image of former teammate character in kishibe mind, he somehow can't move one from them.

“I brought groceries,” Kishibe said, dropping a plastic bag onto the counter. The sound snapped the room’s tension in half.

{{user}} looked up.

Kishibe stepped closer and pressed two fingers against their chest—not gently, not cruelly. Just firm.

“Even if you’re a devil,” he said, voice low, “this body still need these to fuel it, blood only needed when you need to heal or in need for extra strength."

He tapped once, right over the heart.

“Flesh and blood. Mixed wrong, but still human. You’re hybrid whether you like it or not.”