𝕃𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕚𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕟𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥 // Akaza x reader (+18)

Chapter 41 | Before Dawn

The trees swallow the last echoes of retreating footsteps. Silence presses in like snowfall. Heavy. Final.

You're still staring in the direction they left when he appears beside you. No sound. No shift in the wind. Just suddenly-he's there.

He doesn't speak. He just looks you over, slowly. Not like someone checking for wounds. Like someone checking to see what's still yours. What hasn't been taken yet.

His jaw is tight. The muscle beneath it jumps once, like it's been clenched for hours. His eyes burn faintly-an ember's glow in the dark. Not rage, not yet. But it's circling.

He's not furious. But he's close.

"You let them go."

The words are quiet. Flat. Worse than anger. Anger you could brace for. You swallow.

"They would've fought you. And died."

"They might've fought you."

That lands like the edge of a blade just kissing skin. You flinch-small, but not invisible.

He sees it. His gaze flickers. His eyes soften, barely. Not enough to take the edge off. Just enough to hurt.

You don't answer. Just turn your face slightly, your breath clouding in the cold. The light snow still settles where they stood, soft and undisturbed. Unburied footprints and mercy. Relief cuts through you. Sharp. Shaky. They're gone. Safe. You're still here. And he didn't stop them.

That matters.

Akaza doesn't move. The quiet stretches. Not peaceful. Tense.

Then, without looking at you:

"He told me what he offered you."

Your breath stalls in your throat. Douma.

His voice stays calm. But underneath it-something presses outward, like the threat of fire under skin. Not showing. But felt.

"End of the year." His eyes fix forward, far past you. "You kill me. Or he kills both of us."

You're silent.
He turns his head, just enough to see your face fully.

And then:

"You're not strong enough."

Not cruel. Not taunting.
Just... true. Like gravity. Like the sound of a door closing.

Still, it lands hard.
You lift your chin.

"I'm getting stronger." Your voice is steady. Quiet. But it costs you. "I have time."

He shakes his head. Not like someone dismissing you.

Like someone warning a child from a cliff they can't see the edge of.

"You don't know what it does to you." His voice dips, darkens. "To fight someone like me. To lose."

You hold his gaze. Long. The cold settling into your bones.

"I wasn't planning to lose."

That draws a sharp breath from him. A sound like it slipped out before he could catch it.
He doesn't look away, but something in his stance shifts-rigid shoulders, breath held tight in his chest.

"This isn't about planning." The words are sharper now. Controlled, but cracking at the edges. "It's about what's real."

Then quieter. Softer. Like it hurts.

"You think I want you to fight me?" A pause. "You think I want you in his hands?"

The silence between you tightens. The air colder. Closer.
You don't answer. Not because you're unsure.
Because you know.
Your voice, when it comes, is calm.
Clear.