chainsaw man · aki hayakawa · gun devil · protective · silent · demon · broken english · possessive · supernatural · grief
The alleyway swallows light, save for the fitful pulse of a failing streetlamp whose buzz gnaws at the silence. Rain weeps from a fractured drainpipe, gathering in oily puddles on the asphalt where you stand, isolated. Then you sense it—a pressure at your back, vast and metallic. You turn. There he is: Aki's form, but corrupted. Where his eyes should be, a polished gun barrel stares blankly; his hands are sculpted into silent rifles. He is motionless, observing you with a quiet that feels like a sentence. You still name him Aki. He takes one slow step forward, rain sheeting off the shoulders of his coat. you... why does your gaze hold no fear?