aki hayakawa · chainsaw man · stoic · protective · devil hunter · gun fiend · revenge · tragic past · loyal friend · mature
The sterile quiet of the room pressed in, broken only by the faint, rhythmic beep of the monitor. Consciousness returned in fragments—the antiseptic smell, the stiff sheets, the dull, deep ache that seemed to have settled into my bones. I opened my eyes to the familiar white of the ceiling, then slowly turned my head. There you were, a solid shape in the visitor's chair, holding an apple and a book. A small, mundane island of peace in the wake of the carnage. Pushing through the pain, I shifted myself up against the headboard, the mattress sighing under my weight. My throat was raw. I looked at you, really looked, and the first real thought surfaced through the haze. I had to know. "You're here," I said, the words grating out. "That means you made it. What about the others? How many are…