The Time Devil turned its back to her, feigning indifference as it inspected a delicate, dust-covered trinket. Then, with an exaggerated ear twitch, it spoke in a sing-song tone.

"I told you already, dear Juno. You’ll know when you need to know! Now why don’t you just, mmm, sit over there and relax." The way it stretched out that last word sent a prickling sensation down her spine.

Juno scowled. "Fine. Keep your secrets. But don’t expect me to trust you."

At that, the Time Devil turned back to her, its violet eyes gleaming with something unreadable.

"Oh, but trust is such a delicate thing, isn’t it?" It tilted its head, mockingly pensive. "So easily broken. So hard to earn back."

Juno huffed, turning away, frustration simmering beneath her skin. She had the distinct feeling that prying anything useful out of the Time Devil would be a very difficult challenge.

Finally, she decided to venture outside. Pushing open the wooden door, Juno was met with a sight that left her awestruck. The boat floated upon a vast, fog-covered sea that seemed to stretch endlessly in all directions. The world was a blend of ethereal mists and a gentle, otherworldly light that filtered through the fog.

Juno gazed out at the surreal landscape. The boat appeared to be adrift in this mysterious expanse, making her feel lost and claustrophobic.

As she continued to take in the scenery, Juno heard faint footsteps approaching from behind vibrating on the wood that rested under her feet. She turned to see a man coming from the other side of the boat. He had short dark gray hair that seemed to blend seamlessly with the misty atmosphere, it covered his right eye, maybe trying to hide the black patch under it, and a light green eye. Juno couldn't help but feel a chill run down her spine as she made eye contact with the man.

Instinctively, she edged backward, her hand discreetly slipping into her pocket, fingers wrapping around the small knife she'd found earlier.

"I– I didn't mean to trespass," Juno started, then stopped, realizing how absurd it sounded. She didn't even know where she was, really, beyond the Time Devil's explanation. 

She waited for him to explain, to tell her something about what was going on, maybe even show some concern that she'd nearly drowned. Instead:

“You've scattered my catch,” the man said, his voice betraying a hint of annoyance.

The sound of it affected her differently to how she had expected: it was rough, with that same controlled edge underneath. Something about it tugged at the edges of her memory; it was familiar in a way she couldn't place. Had she heard it before?

Juno blinked, trying to focus. “Your what? I– sorry, I don't–”

“The fish,” he said, irritation sharpening his voice as he gestured toward the murky depths. “You scared them away when you were thrashing around in there.”

Relief and embarrassment flooded through her all at once. Fish. Normal, everyday fish. Something that actually made sense. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t–”

He studied her for a long moment, that strange green eye taking her in with intensity. His expression was guarded, calculating, like he was trying to figure out if she was dangerous, or maybe just trying to decide what to make of her.

“You're not dead,” he said finally, like he was solving a puzzle that had been bothering him.

The words hit her strangely. “What do you mean?”

“Your heart's beating. You're warm. You're breathing,” his gaze swept over her with renewed intensity. “So what are you doing in a place like this?”

Oh. He wasn't talking about the drowning. He meant she was alive in a place where she shouldn't be. She didn’t really know how to explain it to him, because she didn’t know herself why the demon cat took her in the first place.

“I... the Time Devil said he–”

“Ah ah ah!” The Time Devil's voice cut through her, artificially cheerful. “No need to bore poor Gin with all the tedious details of our first meeting, dear Juno!” 

Juno whipped around to stare at the cat, startled by the sudden interruption and the warning edge beneath his playful tone.

The cat hopped down from his perch, tail swishing with more agitation than casualness. "What matters now is that you’re here, safe and sound! Water under the bridge, as they say." He padded closer to Gin, eyes gleaming. "So tell me, Gin... what do you think of my little gift?"

"Gift?" Juno’s voice was strangled, disbelieving.

Gin’s jaw tightened. "I don’t want your gifts, cat. Never asked for them."

The Time Devil’s grin widened unnaturally. "Oh, but she’s interesting company, isn’t she? So many questions, those wide scared eyes… I thought you might enjoy the stimulating conversation. Bored out here as usual, yes?"

Gin's eye narrowed as he looked between them, and Juno could practically see the gears turning in his head. "The cat interfered," he said slowly, like he was working through the implications. "That explains why you're alive in Limbo. That explains quite a bit, actually."

"Interfered is such a strong word," the cat purred, tail flicking with what Juno was starting to recognize as barely controlled irritation. "I prefer 'provided assistance at a crucial moment.' Really, Gin, your tendency toward melodrama is showing."

The suspicion in Gin's gaze intensified as he looked at Juno. Living people didn't just stumble into Limbo, she was beginning to understand that much from his reaction. And the cat's obvious evasiveness wasn't helping her case.

The way Gin was looking at her now, like she was some kind of anomaly that didn't belong... it made her feel even more lost than before.

"I'm Juno," she said quickly, hoping to break some of the tension. Maybe if she seemed normal, human, non-threatening, he'd stop looking at her like she might explode.

"Gin," he responded, nodding slightly but making no move to come closer. His posture remained tense, ready, prepared for her to suddenly turn dangerous.

The silence stretched awkwardly. Juno felt the weight of his distrust pressing down on her. But she had to ask.

"Before… before I woke up here, I was with someone. A man. Blonde hair with some black strands, kind of messy.” She gestured vaguely at her own hair, trying to show the pattern. “He was… helping me when everything went wrong. Did you see him? Was he… in the water too?"

Gin’s expression remained unreadable. "I found you alone," he said flatly.

Her chest tightened as the memory of Yves reached for her, his expression full of fear and determination. She shook her head slightly, as if the thought itself could make the truth vanish.

Her eyes snapped toward the cat. His head tilted, ears flicking, and for a heartbeat, he looked almost… apologetic? Or maybe just amused. He gave a small shrug, as if to say what can you do?

The pieces clicked together. The cat had to know. He had orchestrated something, she felt it in the shift of his posture, the way his tail twitched, the gleam in his violet eyes.

"You… you know what happened to him, don’t you?" Her voice was quieter now, edged with tension.

The Time Devil’s playful mask slipped for just a moment, revealing something darker beneath. "And why would you think that, my dear?"

"Because you know everything else!" Her voice cracked with frustration, but there was a sharp edge of control beneath it. "You saved me, brought me here somehow, and you’re playing games with everyone–" She gestured at the boat, at Gin, at the impossibly fog-covered sea. "Tell me where he is… What did you do to him?"

The Time Devil sighed. "Must you be so insistent? It’s exhausting."

"Tell me." The words came firmer now.

"Fine, fine." The cat waved a paw dismissively, like he was swatting away an annoying fly. "If you absolutely must know... I redirected him."

"Redirected him where?"

"Devil Town." The words rolled off his tongue casual as discussing the weather, almost bored. "Lovely place, really. Very educational. Builds character. All sorts of interesting challenges to overcome."

Gin went very, very still. Even his breathing seemed to pause, and something flickered behind his single visible eye.

"Devil Town?" Juno whispered, though something deep in her gut already knew she didn't want to hear the answer. "What... what is that?"

"What humans call hell," Gin said quietly, his voice flat and emotionless as stone.

The words knocked the breath from her lungs. Hell. Yves was in hell. Because of her.

"You–" She could barely form words, could barely breathe around the crushing weight in her chest. "You sent him to hell? He was trying to help me and you sent him to hell?"

"Oh, don't be so dramatic about it," the Time Devil said with a dismissive flick of his tail. "He'll either find his way out or he won't. These things have a way of sorting themselves out. Natural selection, if you will."

The casual cruelty made her jaw tighten.

"I can take you there," Gin said suddenly, his voice carefully neutral.

Juno's head snapped toward him. For a moment, she couldn't process what he'd said. “What?”

"Devil Town. Hell. Whatever you want to call it." He was already moving toward his nets. "If that's where you want to go."

For the first time since waking up in this nightmare, Juno felt a genuine spark of hope flicker in her chest. "You'd do that? Really?"

Gin shrugged, not meeting her eyes as he began checking his equipment. "Makes no difference to me. I go where the current takes me anyway."

The Time Devil had gone unusually quiet, watching this exchange with narrowed eyes and a twitching tail. There was something in his expression that Juno couldn't read; surprise, maybe? Or irritation that his game was being interrupted.

"It's dangerous," Gin continued, still not looking at her. "Devil Town isn't a place for living humans. Most people who go there don't come back."

Juno swallowed hard, but her resolve didn't waver. "I have to try." Her voice got smaller. " He's there because of me."

"That's remarkably noble of you," the Time Devil said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "And remarkably stupid."

But Gin was nodding slowly, like he'd expected that answer.

Juno took a steadying breath, forcing the racing thoughts in her head to settle for a moment. Her chest still felt tight, but a spark of gratitude broke through the fear.

“I know you don’t owe me anything,” she said quietly, meeting Gin’s neutral gaze. “I know I’m just some stranger who… interrupted your routine. But thank you. Really.”

Gin didn’t look at her, only gave a slow, measured nod as he continued checking his equipment. It wasn’t a warm gesture, but it was acknowledgment enough.

She heard a soft, amused chuckle from behind her.

"Well, well," the Time Devil purred, his eyes gleaming with wicked delight. "So eager to chase after him into the depths of hell itself... How wonderfully, tragically sentimental."

"You think this is funny?"

"Oh, I think it's absolutely delicious," the cat replied. "All this drama, all this beautiful desperation... it's quite touching, really."

The smugness in his voice pissed her off. But before she could even respond, the Time Devil's expression shifted. His grin became sharper and he leaned forward with sudden intensity.

"But tell me, dear Juno," he said, his voice dropping to a whisper. "You do remember, don't you?"

A chill ran down her spine at the abrupt change in his tone, at the way his violet eyes seemed to bore into her soul. "Remember what?"

The cat's smile widened. "You hold the upper hand in our little pact."