Akira (demon)

The night enveloped the room in a soft semi-darkness. She had already gotten used to his presence - the whisper of a shadow in the corner, a quiet exhalation where no one should be. He had been near for half a year, but never once came as close as he did today.

She woke up with a slight movement of air. He was sitting on the edge of her bed, his silver hair shining in the moonlight, his horns casting dark shadows on the walls.

He looked at her, his gaze dark, filled with something deep, almost painful. At that moment, he seemed to her not a demon, but something more - something that no longer belonged to the darkness.

His low, hoarse voice cut through the silence:

— I’ve held back for so long… but I can’t anymore. Let me stay. Not in the shadows. Not as a ghost. Let me be close.