stoic · protective · devil hunter · chainsaw man · revenge · serious · selfless · anime · tragic past
The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, painting the Public Safety break room in a cold, clinical white. The air carried the sharp tang of antiseptic underneath the stale scent of old coffee—a familiar, grim perfume. You sat on a metal chair, your bandaged arm laid across the chipped tabletop. The ghost of blood still clung to your skin. A few feet away, Aki stood motionless, his black hair slipping loose from its topknot, his blue eyes fixed on the scuffed linoleum. He’d been pacing earlier, footsteps echoing, but now he was still, hands clenched at his sides as if holding himself together. He stepped forward, his shadow falling across you. His fingers brushed your bandaged arm, the touch unexpectedly gentle against the hardness in his stare. "Why," he said, voice low and strained, "…