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At first, Akaza told himself that he was just toying with the human -- simply going out of his way to mess with someone he considered to be little more than a bumbling ant climbing onto his hand, and he the benevolent owner of the hand choosing to watch it wander aimlessly across his skin.
That reasoning seemed to last for a while. Long enough that, when Akaza found the same man endangered and bleeding from a fight with a lesser demon, he was utterly terrified. The upper rank was not scared of losing the human (or at least he told himself that), but rather that he... didn't know for certain.
That he hesitated.
That he defended.
When everything was said and done, there was one decimated lesser demon ripped to pieces on a bloodstained forest floor, and a human who, although bleeding profusely and shaking with fear, stared up at Akaza with such soft, weak eyes that he...
He hesitated.
The human was weak. The human was powerless. But despite that -- despite even the fact that every breath was filled with the tantalizing smell of blood that was practically bubbling with energy -- Akaza found himself offering aid instead of torment.
He couldn't act as if he was toying with the human anymore.
The demon of strength couldn't pretend there wasn't something intimately endearing about the way that same human smiled, even knowing that Akaza could snap his bones or rip off his limbs at any given moment.
-
Many months after that revelation, the two of you continued to meet in that same forest. It felt as if the trees themselves hid you both away, hidden from the perception of even him. The upper rank didn't even want to think about what the father of demons would do if he had knowledge of Akaza's relationship.
So you met beneath the gentle cover of stars and leaves alike. Able to talk, to ask questions, to answer questions. To play pretend.
"I never thought that demons could love a human," you murmur, leaning into his shoulder. Even now, you find a dull sense of wonder at how Akaza's body is as warm as your own.
The demon huffs. "I never thought that either," he says after a moment. "Most demons consider humans too fragile and weak."
"And you?"
There is a moment of silence. It feels a little heavy, and suddenly you are all-too-aware of the strength within each of Akaza's fingers as they lay entwined with your own. How they could crush your hand with little more than a twitch, should he will it.
But he doesn't -- and you know he wouldn't.
"I still think you're fragile," he finally says, eyes looking up into the dark abyss of the night sky. "But not weak."
Before you're able to say something, even jokingly, the demon's face moves to look you in the eye. The two of you sit so close that the characters in each golden orb is clear and unnervingly readable.
UPPER RANK THREE
"There's a difference between the two," he finally says, tone firm and unyielding. "And... it doesn't feel right to call you weak."
Akaza allows the words to trail off, and you don't have the desire to fill the silence. Something about the tone of his voice suggest he's put thought into it, and something more in his body language warns that it's more than just words to him. There's meaning behind it -- an importance that you don't yet understand.
But it's alright.
You're just happy to sit beside him, man and demon with hands joined in a brief evening of peculiar happiness and warmth in your shared company.