The steady tap of Gin's boots against the boat's deck cut through the stillness. The sea churned below, but his balance never wavered. He stood at the edge, arms crossed loosely, watching the darkness beyond the horizon like he was daring it to blink first.
"You're better off without me."
The words echoed in his mind like a mistake repeated in slow motion. He shouldn't have said anything at all.
With a sigh too quiet to matter, he picked up his fishing rod. Not because he cared about catching anything, but because movement was better than stillness. Stillness always let thoughts creep in.
The rod cast out in a smooth, mechanical motion. His gaze didn't follow it. His focus lingered elsewhere; on the girl he'd left behind, on the cat he didn't truly trust, on the city that devoured people like her.
Ain was capable, that wasn't the problem. The problem was Gin had seen capable people fail, had seen them lie, had seen them break.
He clenched his jaw.
The girl, Juno, she was reckless, soft in ways that got people killed. He didn't know why she got under his skin. Maybe it was her eyes… that kind of look didn't last long down there.
Footsteps on the shore snapped him out of the spiral. Low voices carried on the wind. Gin's eye narrowed.
The rod jerked slightly in his hand but he didn't notice.
"...a human girl. Can you believe it?"
Gin's eye twitched.
"Sereph's got her locked up. And he's got that weird cat too."
Still, he didn't move, but exhaled slowly through his nose, lowered the rod, and leaned against the railing, staring out at the black water like it had all the answers.
Not your problem.
His jaw clenched as the second demon laughed.
She's not your problem.
A beat passed. Then another.
She's just a stupid human. Got herself caught, same as the rest. You warned her. You did your part. That's all you owe.
His eye shut, his expression carved from stone.
But silence didn't help. It just made it worse. The image of her; nervous, stubborn, standing on the edge of that boat asking him to come with her pushed through the cracks he'd built around himself.
Gin clicked his tongue and turned away, pacing a slow circle on the deck like a caged animal.
What, are you gonna go save her now? Why? You barely even know her. You're not a hero.
He stopped, fists clenched.
She's probably already dead.
But the words didn't land, they didn't feel real. He could still hear her voice.
"You saved me back there. Just thought you should know."
Gin stared down at the rod, then at the horizon, then at his own hands, tight with tension he didn't want to admit what it was.
Finally, he muttered under his breath, bitterly:
"...Stupid."
He grabbed his coat off the hook, slung it over his shoulders. His swords followed, secured with a cold, metallic click. There was no fire in his eye, just a quiet, stubborn inevitability.
If Sereph had her, things were going to get messy. And as much as he hated it… he couldn't ignore that. Gin exhaled once through his nose, irritated.
Sereph. Of course it was him. Figures that twisted bastard couldn't stay buried. And now he was dragging others into the pit with him.
Gin just started walking, boots hitting the dock. He didn't think about Juno, not in the way people meant. He remembered her; drenched and stubborn, eyes too open for this place, voice too soft for the things she'd seen. It wasn't pity, he didn't do pity.
His pace didn't change as he approached the demons. They were still talking, and barely had time to look up before his shadow cut through the fog.
"What did you just say?" His voice was flat, the kind that didn't ask twice.
One of the demons turned, snorting. "You got a problem, pretty boy?"
Gin ignored the tone. "The girl. Where."
The other laughed. "You mean the little human Sereph snatched? She belongs to you or somethin'?"
The first demon smirked. "Sereph's boss got the other one, they say he screamed a lot. They're collecting them like pets."
Gin blinked once and lifted a brow as he heard about the other one. "You gonna answer, or not."
"The old manor," he said. "Sereph's keeping them there. Probably already–"
Gin turned. The demon grabbed his arm.
Gin twisted, blade drawn before the demon could register it. Steel brushed his throat, not a tremor in Gin's hand.
"Touch me again, and I won't leave you breathing."
Silence hung for a moment. The other demon shifted, uncertain.
Then the first one scoffed, stepping back. "Tch. Fine. Go get torn apart. You'll be fertilizer by morning."
He lowered the blade, not sheathing it, and walked into the dark.
The old house emerged through the gaps in the trees, its old wooden frame barely holding itself together. Gin approached in silence, body low. His single eye swept the structure, every sagging beam, every flicker of torchlight behind the gaps in the wood.
The air was tainted by the iron tang of blood, the stench of demons. He breathed it in and filed it away.
He crouched behind a slope, fingertips brushing the hilts of his katanas. He didn't draw yet.
From the edge of the hill, he caught a flash of movement: Ain, weaving through the legs of a few idle demons outside. Gin's brow barely twitched. Of course the cat wasn't restrained.
But Juno?
He moved around the house in a wide arc, slipping through bushes. Eventually, he reached a shattered window, the broken glass dull under moonlight. The inside was a total chaos; blood on the walls, demons slumped and groaning across the floor.
And at the center of it, slouched against a beam was Sereph.
Gin narrowed his eye. Sereph didn't move, until he suddenly did.
It started with a twitch in the fingers. Then his shoulders lifted, like something stretching its limbs after too long buried. He sucked in air before a thin, choking laugh tore from his throat.
"Boss– the human girl. She escaped!" a demon stammered as he burst into the room.
Sereph didn't even glance at him. His blood-slicked lips parted in a grin that didn't belong on a sane man.
"She escaped?" he echoed, voice raw.
He tilted his head back against the beam, grinning wider. One eye opened, blood creeping down from the brow. He moved his jaw, like he was remembering how it worked.
His gaze glimmered with something that wasn't quite hunger. He began to rise, pressing one hand against the blood-streaked wall for balance.
"I can't let her go," he muttered. "I've still got things to do to her."
The way he said it made Gin's grip tighten on his sword without thinking.
He pulled back from the window. He needed to move now.
As he circled toward the other side of the house, he spotted something shiny crumpled near the roots of a tree, half-buried in the dirt. He stopped.
There was a torn piece of fabric, drenched in dark, almost black blood. It was human blood. Next to it: a broken silver chain that looked quite expensive.
He knelt, picked it up with a gloved hand, and turned it over once. It wasn't Juno's name on the pendant.
It was Yves'.
The other human the demons mentioned. Gin pocketed the chain without a word. The noise of snapping twigs snapped his focus back.
He slid behind a trunk and moved quickly, and then he saw them. Juno and Ain. Cornered at the edge of the forest. Juno's back hit a tree, the cat was in front of her hissing. Her breaths were short, fast.
Three demons advanced like a pack of dogs, dragging out the moment.
One licked a blade slowly, grinning. Sereph was there, standing, smiling at them.
"See? See what happens when you mess with me? When you think you can outsmart me?" His voice was getting shriller by the second. "I don't know what kind of trick you pulled, but it ends here."
He crouched in the shadows, one hand gripping the hilt of his katana. He should've walked away, let it burn. It wasn't his fight, he didn't owe them anything.
But then he saw her. Cornered, scared, trying to be brave. Gin clenched his jaw. This isn't about them, he told himself. This is about me. Him. It always has been. I'm not doing this to protect anyone. I just want to shut him up.
His fingers twitched once against the grip.
"Enough."
The clearing stilled and dozens of eyes locked onto him, and just like that, their bravado bled out.
Ain's ears twitched, one tail flick. Gin's gaze slid past him.
"Heh. About time," Sereph muttered, clicking his tongue with a lazy grin. "You really like that whole dramatic entrance thing, don't you? You always do that."
Gin didn't answer. He stepped forward with silent confidence, his katana sliding from its sheath in one smooth, unhurried motion.
Sereph's smirk widened. "So… what is this? Gonna beg me for their lives now? How noble."
Gin's expression didn't change. "I don't beg."
Sereph let out a dry laugh, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Still pretending you're better than this?" He tilted his head. "You really think you're above all of us, huh?"
He took a step forward. Shoved Gin once, twice, but he didn't react.
"You know, it's almost cute how you pretend not to care," Sereph sneered. "But I've seen what you are underneath all that control. You think if you hold it in long enough, it'll disappear? You think it makes you clean?"
Gin's grip on the sword didn't tighten. He didn't need to react. That was the difference; he never wasted anything.
Sereph's eyes gleamed. "I wonder how long you'd stay calm if I did something to her."
In an instant, a dagger materialized from the shadows in his hand and flung through the air toward Juno.
A flash of silver intercepted it mid-flight. The shadow blade shattered on impact, dissolving back into wisps of darkness. Gin hadn't even looked. Juno staggered back, breath caught.
Sereph's smirk twitched. For a second, the mask cracked. He felt it, the pressure in the air.
And Gin? Still calm, unreadable. The only difference was that single green eye that turned sharper, a fraction colder.
Sereph lunged.
Gin's blade moved. Where Sereph came with chaos and fury, Gin answered with detachment and precision.
Juno watched, knowing that Gin could end this whenever he wanted, but he held back for reasons she couldn't understand.
Sereph came again with teeth bared, a shadow blade slashing toward Gin's ribs, but it was too slow and predictable. Gin sidestepped and parried in one motion, steel sparking against darkness as Sereph staggered back.
Gin let him swing and exhaust himself while his own movements stayed controlled and steady. Sereph grew more desperate with each clash, shadow weapons dissolving and reforming in increasingly frantic hands while Gin's breathing never changed.
He finally moved, a sudden pivot, and in one breathless moment, Gin twisted his blade with a sharp snap, dissolving Sereph's weapon before he could react.
Gin stepped in.
His knee slammed into Sereph's stomach. All the air tore from Sereph's lungs in a ragged choke, Gin grabbed him by his clothes with his free hand and shoved him against a tree. He doubled over, but the blade was already at his throat, the tip pressing just enough to draw a thin thread of blood.
Sereph's hands hovered midair, unsure if he should grab, run, or fall. His eyes met Gin's; wide and panicked, the swagger cracked clean down the middle.
Gin's expression never shifted, while Sereph's breath came in ragged gasps. The smirk had vanished, replaced by something pained, but the fight in him hadn't died.
He looked up at Gin, eyes glassy, jaw trembling from the effort it took to speak. "Go on…" he rasped, almost lost beneath the wind. "Kill me."
Gin stood tall, katana still raise. His other hand grabbing the demon by the shirt, fingers twitching slightly. Sweat ran down his temple, cooling too fast in the night air, making his skin prickle.
He kept his eye locked on Sereph's. And for a second, it was just the two of them. The battlefield faded. The trees, the ruins, the others, they all blurred out.
He didn't deserve to walk away. Gin knew that. Every part of him screamed to end it, right here, blade to throat, justice delivered. But…
He threw him to the ground.
"Leave," he said, voice firm.
Sereph blinked, stunned, then scoffed a short, bitter laugh, though it stuttered in his throat from the pain. He slowly stood, almost staggering, keeping a hand on his side. His golden eyes searched Gin's face, unreadable for the first time.
But then there it was. That sneer.
"That's what I thought," he muttered. And then he turned, limping toward the trees, disappearing into the dark, the other demons following him.
Gin held his stance for a moment longer. Even after the demons were gone.
He let out a slow breath, then reached up and dragged the back of his hand across his forehead. A few strands of hair stuck to his cheek; he pushed them back absently, his fingers trembling once before he steadied them.
Behind him, Juno hadn't moved. Her eyes stayed wide, frozen on the spot where Sereph had stood. But she was still breathing fast. Her hands were clenched tight at her sides, like she wasn't sure it was over.
Ain stood next to her, watching Gin with an unreadable expression.
Gin finally turned to them, eye narrowing. His voice was rougher than usual, tinged with lingering adrenaline.
"You both good?"
Ain blinked at her, then dramatically tilted his head at Gin. "Wow. So tender. I could weep," he whispered, voice laced with mock awe. "Our knight in bloodstained armor."
Juno swallowed hard, then nodded once, ignoring Ain's comment. "Yeah," she whispered, her voice cracked slightly. "Thank you."
Gin didn't respond to the emotion in her voice. He simply looked at her a moment longer, then reached into the pocket of his coat. He pulled something small and silver out, and with a flick of his wrist, tossed it toward her.
She caught it on instinct. Her eyes dropped to it.
Juno turned the necklace over in her palm, her fingers trembling. The silver chain was cold, slightly tarnished. The name engraved on the charm: Yves, sent a jolt through her chest.
"Where… where did you find this?"
Gin didn't look at her. His gaze was fixed on the dark treeline, still tracking threats in the shadows. The fight may have been over, but his posture hadn't relaxed.
"Back there," he muttered. He finally glanced at her, his single unreadable green eye. "He was here."
Juno stared at the necklace, her chest tightening. "So he's alive?"
Gin didn't answer immediately. He watched her for a beat too long, his jaw tightening like he was debating whether to say what he really thought.
"I don't know," he said. "But I'll help you find him."
Her head snapped up, hope flickering in her eyes.
But Gin's voice was colder than before. "After that, we're done."
"What?"
"You go back to your world, and I won't see you again." Gin said, stepping past her. "That's the deal."
Juno blinked, caught off guard. "What– why?"
He didn't turn around, but his shoulders stiffened slightly, as if the weight of his words pressed harder than he'd let on. His voice was cold. "You don't belong in this mess."
Juno opened her mouth to argue, but Gin was already walking away. She lingered in place, breath shallow, holding the necklace tighter in her hand.
Ain appeared at her side without a sound, a slight bounce in his step.
"Aw, don't look so crushed," he said lightly, almost sing-song. "He's always like that. Likes to pretend he doesn't care. Real convincing, huh?"
Juno didn't answer, her eyes still fixed on Gin's back.
Ain leaned in closer, his voice dropped. "But here's a secret," he whispered. "He doesn't get to decide what happens to you."
She frowned, glancing at him now.
Ain straightened with a smirk that didn't quite reach his eyes. "I do."
Juno stared at him, caught between unease and confusion.
Ain gave her a wink. "Kidding. Kind of." He twirled his tail dramatically. "Don't worry, little human. You're not disposable just yet."
And with that, he strolled ahead as if he hadn't just completely scrambled her thoughts.
She followed, her heartbeat unsettled, not just from Ain's words, but from the feeling that none of them were being entirely honest.