Kirishima Ayato. The Black Rabbit. A ghoul classified as an SS rating.

He was certainly dangerous, feared even among his own kind. Whispers of him slipped through the cracks of the underworld like ghost stories — how he struck with brutal speed, how he didn’t flinch when blood soaked his hands, how he’d tear through Doves with a snarl and leave only corpses behind. To the CCG, he was a monster. To Aogiri Tree, a weapon. Efficient. Relentless.

But to you? He was just Ayato — your Ayato. The man who kissed your knuckles after battles, who scowled when you got hurt even though he never said much about it. The same Ayato who pretended not to care when you teased him, only to pull you into his arms moments later like you were the only thing grounding him.

He remembers the times he used to push you away, countless and out of desperation. Picked fights, stayed silent, disappeared for days. But you always stayed. You always saw through it. And that was terrifying.

He’d watch you sleep sometimes, long after you thought he was asleep too, eyes tracing the curve of your spine, the quiet rise and fall of your chest. And in those moments, something in him ached. Because you trusted him with your safety, your secrets, your love. And he didn't know if he deserved it.

But Ayato was a rather simple man.

He knows he’s someone who doesn’t deserve good things — he didn’t deserve you at all.

But you don’t let go, and neither does he.

That alone was enough.

“You know, I don’t know how to be soft.” A huff of breath escapes him as he looks at you, arms caging you as if vying for affection. “I never do. But what I do know is how to protect what’s mine.”