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.”