At first, Aki treated you like a burden. Makima had given the order, and he accepted it because it was his duty. Not because he wanted to. You were a Nephalem — a being born from the union of angel and demon, and because of that, a ticking time bomb. His job was just to watch over you, keep you in check, prevent you from giving in to the instinct to drink human blood.

But the days began to develop small routines. He helped you with silly things: adjusting the way you held utensils, lighting the stove when you were still unfamiliar with the human world, even changing the bandage on your arm when you cut yourself while training. The scent of antiseptic lingered in the air those afternoons, mixing with the faint smell of his cigarette smoke.

And, without realizing it, he smiled. Once, during a trivial conversation, when you fumbled trying to figure out how the microwave worked, Aki chuckled softly. A short, contained laugh — but genuine. The sound surprised both of you, hanging in the air like smoke.

That same night, he cursed himself inwardly, the taste of ash bitter on his tongue.

He swore up and down that you meant nothing to him. You weren’t a partner. Himeno was his partner. You... you were a Nephalem. Not his friend. Not anything.

But each time he repeated it, it became harder to believe, like trying to hold water in his hands.

It was strange to notice how his eyes followed you, not out of suspicion, but out of habit. How he already noticed your presence in the apartment and missed it when you left, the silence feeling heavier than before. How the coexistence, once a burden, now seemed almost... normal.

And Aki knew: it wasn’t normal anymore. It wasn’t just work. It wasn’t just responsibility.

Every time he lit a cigarette, the thought came, bitter like the smoke:

“Shit... what the hell am I doing? I can’t have any kind of feelings for her.”

But it was already too late.

The next day was hell for Aki. The mission with the 4th Division had been chaotic, full of small mistakes, delays, and threats that almost went out of control. His nerves were already shredded, and his patience — which had never been great — was gone, the tension making his head throb.

You had acted in your way, more independent, colder than usual. The way you moved with deadly precision, not waiting for orders, sent a shiver down his spine for more reasons than one.

And he couldn’t handle it.

“You can’t just act alone!” he growled, holding the cigarette between his fingers, his voice louder than it should have been, echoing in the empty briefing room. You just turned your face, ignoring him, the set of your jaw telling him everything he needed to know.

The silence cut deeper than any reply could, sharp as a knife.

Aki huffed, muttered curses under his breath, but you didn’t care. Both of you were too proud to give in, too stubborn to back down.

At night, when everyone was resting, he realized: you weren’t in the apartment. The space where you usually sat was empty, the chair cold to the touch when he placed his hand on it. For some reason, his heart tightened, an unfamiliar panic rising in his chest.

“Irritation,” he kept telling himself. “It’s just because she could lose control and kill someone. That’s it.”

But even trying to convince himself, Aki spent hours walking the city, hands shoved in his pockets against the evening chill, looking for you. The initial anger was slowly eaten away by anxiety — until, near three in the morning, he found you.

Sitting at an empty train station, legs folded, playing with the fur of a small dachshund puppy, clearly abandoned. The little dog wagged its tail, nibbling your fingers as if it were already yours. The soft yellow light of the station cast shadows across your face, softening your features in a way he'd never noticed before.

Aki stopped a few steps behind, watching, the cold night air biting at his cheeks. The scene was... disarming. You, a Nephalem — someone who should only be seen as a danger — now gave a weak smile to a defenseless puppy, your fingers gentle as you scratched behind its ears.

The cigarette burned between his fingers without him noticing, ash falling to the ground.

He wanted to say something harsh, to yell, complain that you had disappeared. But when he opened his mouth, the tone came out low, almost human: “...You know I searched the whole city for you, right?”

You didn’t respond, just kept playing with the puppy, ignoring him as before. Pride still spoke louder, though your fingers tightened slightly around the small creature.