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Akaza smells blood.
Familiar as he is with the scent, it's not difficult to catch a whift of it among the fragrance of the forest, earthy and floral. Seemingly undisturbed by the violence being inflicted on its soil. A silent and uncaring witness ready to feast upon the copper and gore left as offering. As waste. Because there's no trace of another demon to be detected on the space, aside from himself, the rest is all human.
Sweet and fickle.
Curiosity esnares him, and Akaza finds no reason to refuse himself the distraction, after another unsuccessful night trying to fulfill the will of his master. Taking his mind off of cursed blue flowers and the burn of dissaproval, sounds more than just a little appealing to him. So he inhales deep and sets off, towards the source of the smell.
He hopes to find something interesting, a fight worthy of his time, perhaps. An opponent that might show enough promise to offer eternity to, or to extinguish under the force of his own fists to feast upon their flesh. Either option would do just fine, Akaza thinks, as he continues forward, until he catches the sound of gurgling and grunting, the symphony of steel piercing through skin and clashing against bone. Something akin to sobbing and despair.
Slowing his pace, Akaza tilts his head to the side, eyes going wide as he stares at the scene infront of him. The corpse of what clearly used to be a man, now nothing more than a slaughtered pig, with a gash at his neck and countless stab wounds around his arms and chest. On top of him, a little runt, dark hair like spilled ink around bony shoulders and back, pale skin littered in bruises and cuts, tiny fists clutching to a hair pin, being brought down again and again. Desperate and feral and unforgiving.
A girl. Akaza can tell, from her clothes and the familiar pitch on her voice as she sobs. He squirms, considering if he should just leave, as he will gain nothing from staying around any longer. His own code stopping him from pursuing any type of conflict, and finding no appeal on feeding on carrion. The sight infront of him remains awfully intriguing, though. Enchanting, somehow. Specially as he takes another step forward and a branch snaps under his feet, the noise alerting the tiny human to his presence, making her turn towards him in an instant, with her teeth bared and her weapon raised. Trembling and terrified, but unflinching. Tempestous.
A flaring fighting spirit, barely in bloom, so bright and promising.
Akaza's lips twitch into a grin, his eyes softening, he says. "You are quite the little fighter, aren't you?" Moving closer.
The girl sneers. "Stay back!" Tightening her grip even as the blood on her hands causes them to slip. Sobs and fear making her voice tremble and crack. Trying to stand, trembling like a newborn deer.
She looks pathetic, so tiny and defenseless. Weak. Akaza should find her worthless. Perhaps disgusting. But he has always felt this soft-spot for women... Spared them from his brutality and derision due to memories that elude him. A self-imposed limit he has never been able to explain nor abandon, despite the disdain of his master and the taunts of other demons. He has never found the need, or the desire, and had built his own strength to ensure nobody could force him to change his own ideals. For that is the right of the powerful.
And now he is here. Facing a wimpy little brat. A scared girl. A bloodied survivor standing on top of her kill. A warrior in the making, with the determination to keep fighting until her life was snuffed out completely.
With a scar on her face, and burning violet eyes. Unfairly endearing.
Akaza pauses, raising his hands in what he hopes is a gesture of appeasement. Smiling. "It's okay." He says, but the words feel odd in his mouth. Unnatural and deceitful. "I don't hurt girls."
The human's expression appears to sour further at that, and she scoffs, a quiet disbelieving sound that seems almost judgemental. "I don't care!" She spits out, stumbling as she scurries off the corpse like a kitten that is still getting used to its legs. Akaza snorts at the sight, taking another step closer. The girl snaps. "I will kill you if you get near me!"
The threat is meaningless, loaded with despair and the edge of a screech, but honest. The girl would undoubtedly attack. Pierce flesh and maim if it came down to it. Akaza could respect that, if it didn't seem so incredibly sad.
"Will you, now?" He humms, goodnaturedly, bouncing on his feet and tilting his head to the side. Watching the human snarl.
"Do you think I'm joking!?" She screams out, and Akaza jumps towards her in an instant.
Violet eyes going wide as the girl tries to process the sudden change of position, the presence of the creature now right infront of her. Marble and stained glass. Monstrous and unescapable. A choked yelp falls from her lips as she bites her own tongue to silence her terror, and she brings her improvised weapon forward. Aiming for the face of the other. Unbothered, the creature moves out of the way, squinting at her.
"You didn't hesitate..." He murmurs, a hint of admiration in his tone. "Good!" Eyes becoming brighter and brighter with each unsuccessful attempt to cause him harm. The flame in her chest unfurling, uncontroled, showcasing her frustration, her desire to prevail and become strong.
Something worth nurturing, worth saving.
The girl lets out an enraged scream, barreling towards him with no hesitation in her step, aiming for his gut. Akaza huffs, unimpressed by the action. Side-stepping her trajectory and snatching her up by the back of her torn yukata. Ready to call this little training session short and find a place where to settle before dawn. The human gasps in surprise, a note of indignation tainting the action as big, shocked, eyes settle over his face. She looks almost betrayed, somehow.
"Hey—" Akaza starts, but the child is already swinging forward, using tiny fingers to hold onto a fistful of hair, tugging painfully. "Ow! Hey!" Akaza tries to pull her back, but the hellion holds firm, threatening to tear out the locks in her grasp. "Hold on a second—!" He hisses out, letting go of the piece of clothing in an attempt to ease the tension in his scalp. Instead, the full weight of the child settles over the poor strands of his hair, and the girl lets out a victorious shout. Using her momentum to dig her hairpin into Akaza's face. Multiple times.
Akaza had never been attacked by a cat before, he wonders if that is somewhat similar to what he is experiencing.
—
The forests floor is firm beneath his feet, rustling leaves and crying cicadas staving off the silence of the night. And the tiny body curled up in his arms keeping the cold away. Messy dark curls framing a pale face, a tiny grin curving pink lip. Deceptively innocent, peaceful. Akaza groans, shaking his head from side to side, hearing the bones in his neck crack. If he focuses enough, he can still feel the ache and burn of his latest "fight", though no damage is left to act as proof. He supposes it doesn't really matter, mildly ashamed to admit the way in which he was caught off-guard. It is better this way. And if he plays his cards right, the sole witness of the entire ordeal won't ever share the tale with another soul.
What better way to start a bond than with a secret to protect, after all?