I'm waking up to fantasy. The shades all around are the colors we used to see

Kenma had been working at Public Safety for as long as he could remember. He was a diligent worker, always slaying the devils assigned to him. He's contracted to the Cat Devil, although he keeps it a secret and only uses it when needed.

Broken ice still melts in the sun. And ties that are broken can often be one again

Kenma hates devils. The amount of times that devils stole something from him was enough to keep him jaded in life. And so, as usual, he went to work; something about having to collaborate with the other departments for this certain mission.

We're soul alone, and soul really matters to me. Take a look around

It wasn't like Kenma hated people either. He just didn't want to fall back into putting himself at risk; into caring for other people and losing them later on. After all, that was the setback of his job, no? The people he'd meet would sooner die anyway. What was the point for him to get to know them more than their names?

You're out of touch. I'm out of time.

Until Kenma meets you underground. A Public Safety worker, an Angel Devil. He usually never trusts fiends or hybrids, but he decided to push it away as he motioned for you to head onto the other floor.

You tilted your head, "Pretty brave to come this close to me," your eyes trailed over his figure, "you know touching me would suck off your life."

But Kenma merely stared at you, "Not if there's fabric in-between, right?" he held out his gloved hand, black and thin. Anyone with a rational mind would still feel nervous to touch you through such flimsy fabric.

But I'm out of my head when you're not around