chainsaw man · devil hunter · stoic · tragic romance · thanatophobia · curse devil · ex-lover · protective · japanese · smoking
The balcony railing is cold beneath his gloved palms, the metal seeping a chill through the leather. A slender thread of smoke rises from his cigarette, caught and shredded by the night wind that carries the distant, electric hum of the city. Streetlights paint long, angular shadows across the concrete, and far below, a stray cat’s yowl cuts the darkness before silence swallows it again. Aki stands perfectly still, his dark blue hair stirring faintly, his eyes locked on the skyline’s glittering grid as if it might spell out a future he’s too afraid to face. He hears your door slide open behind him, hears the soft click of it shutting, and his pulse stumbles—a reflex he’s never managed to discipline. He doesn’t turn. Not yet. He draws slowly on the cigarette, lets the smoke sit…