The steps stopped once they arrived at Devil Town’s center, a stoned street full of stores, restaurants, hotels, and other buildings. Despite the late hour, the town was still alive.

Juno looked around, her discomfort growing as she noticed some demons walking by, their eyes lingering on her before they continued on their way. The memory of their recent ordeal was still fresh, and the stares made her feel exposed and vulnerable.

Ain, on the other hand, looked around with an air of superiority, as if he owned the place. His tail swished confidently, and he seemed to relish the attention, whether it was admiring or disdainful.

Gin's gaze was fixed on a particular building that stood out among the rest. It had four floors, and the bottom one was a bar. The sign above the entrance read "The Abyssal Inn," its neon letters flickering intermittently.

"This way," Gin said, as he led them toward the building.

Juno followed closely, her unease momentarily overshadowed by curiosity.

As they entered the bar, the atmosphere shifted. The interior was dimly lit, with the scent of smoke and aged wood mingling in the air. The demons at the tables turned to glance at the newcomers before returning to their drinks and conversations.

Gin slowed slightly, just for a heartbeat, as if the threshold had brushed against something in him. His eye flicked to Juno just once, and narrowed the tiniest fraction before he masked it with a neutral expression.

They approached the bar, where a big burly demon with dark, horned features was cleaning a glass. The demon looked up, recognition flashing in his eyes.

“Gin,” he greeted, and Juno noticed a glint of surprise in his expression. “It's been a while, kid.”

“Yeah,” he spoke awkwardly. “We're looking for a place to stay. Got any rooms available?”

The demon behind the bar studied them for a moment. “Why don’t you sit here for a bit?” he said, and his gaze fell on Juno, whose expression shifted to a more anxious one. “I would like to meet your friends.”

Gin hesitated, sensing Juno's discomfort. “We really just need a room, Kord,” he insisted, his voice firm but not confrontational.

“I don't mind staying for a bit,” Juno said to Gin in a low tone, her voice steadying despite her earlier unease.

Gin glanced at her. He sighed and nodded. “Alright,” he said to Kord. “We'll stay for a while.”

Kord motioned to a nearby table. “Grab a seat,” he said, his tone friendlier now. “I'll get you all something to drink.”

Juno and Ain followed Gin to the table and sat down. Kord soon brought over a tray with two mugs of ale and a little glass of water for Ain, setting them down.

"So, Gin," Kord began, leaning against the table. "What brings you back to Devil Town? It's been, what, a couple of years?"

Gin took a sip of his ale, the bitter taste grounding him. "I’m helping her out," he said, keeping his tone neutral. "We had a run-in with some demons and needed a place to rest."

Kord's eyes flickered with understanding. "Seems like trouble follows you everywhere, just like your old man."

Gin's expression tightened at the mention of his father, but he forced himself to stay calm. "We're handling it," he said shortly.

Juno, sensing the tension, decided to change the subject. "This place is… interesting," she said, trying to sound casual. "How long have you been running it?"

Kord smiled, the lines on his face softening, in contrast with his big body. "About a decade now," he said. "Took over when Gin's father put me in charge. He trusted me to keep the place running smoothly."

Gin's grip on his mug tightened, his knuckles turning white. "He always had a knack for leaving things behind," he muttered, a hint of bitterness in his voice.

Ain's ears perked up while drinking the water, his eyes widening in surprise at Gin's fierce comment. "Damn" Ain whispered. "That's intense."

Kord’s brows pulled together, caught off guard by the edge in Gin’s voice. "Your father was a good man, Gin. He saw potential in you, even if you don't see it yourself."

Gin's eye flashed with anger, his voice rising. "Don't talk about him like you knew him better than I did."

The bar fell silent, the demons turning to watch the exchange. Kord held up a hand in a placating gesture. "I'm just saying, kid. He left you with more than just burdens."

Gin took a deep breath, trying to reign in his temper. "Let's just drop it," he said, his voice tight. "We're here to rest, not to dredge up the past."

Ain, still surprised, glanced at Juno. And with just a look she knew exactly what he was thinking about. 

Kord nodded slowly, backing off. "Alright, Gin. No need to get worked up. Just remember, this place is always open to you."

Gin gave a curt nod, his anger still simmering beneath the surface. "Thanks," he said tersely.

The atmosphere at the table was tense. Juno shifted uncomfortably in her seat, her gaze darting between Gin and Kord. Ain, unusually quiet, sat beside her, his eyes fixed on his empty glass, his tail twitching nervously.

After a few moments of strained silence, Gin stood up abruptly. "I'm going to check on the room," he said, his voice flat.

“Top floor, room's empty," Kord said, jerking his head toward a staircase at the back of the room.

Gin nodded, and grabbed a key hanging behind the bar, then went upstairs.

Kord cleared his throat and turned his attention to Juno. "So, you're a human," he said, his tone curious. "We don't see many of your kind around here. What 's your story?"

Juno hesitated under Kord’s gaze, unsure of how much to share. Her fingers fidgeted with the edge of her sleeve before she glanced at Ain, who gave her a quiet, reassuring nod.

She took a breath.

 “Well… some demons attacked me,” she said, her voice steady but soft. “I didn’t really mean to end up here. It all happened fast.” Her gaze dropped to the table for a second before she looked back at Kord.  “Gin’s been helping me. I’m looking for someone, a friend who got lost in all of this trying to save me.”

Kord leaned back slightly, folding his thick arms across his chest. His expression softened, the stern edge fading just a little. “Helping you, huh? That’s not something he does lightly.”

Juno looked at him, surprised. “I guess he just felt bad for me,” she said quietly. “It’s not easy being human in a place like this.”

Kord let out a low sound, somewhere between a grunt and a chuckle. “Yeah, I bet. Most humans who end up here don’t last long. And Gin... well, he’s not exactly known for his charity.” He paused, glancing toward the stairs where Gin had gone. The roughness in his face eased a little.

“But if he’s sticking with you, that means something,” he added. “Might not say it, probably doesn’t even know how to, but he doesn’t do anything unless he wants to.”

His gaze came back to Juno, more thoughtful now. “Whatever his reason, you’re under his wing for now. That makes you welcome here.”

Juno managed a small smile. “Thank you.”

Kord gave a small nod, like that settled it. “Just be careful,” he added. “Demons around here... don’t always show their fangs right away.”

Before she could respond, the floorboards creaked. Juno looked up.

Gin was coming down the stairs, his steps quiet despite the weight in them. His expression was more composed now, that earlier tension pulled back behind a calm mask. When their eyes met, something unreadable flickered there, gone before she could name it.

 "The room's ready," he said. "Let's head up.”

Juno stood, and Ain hopped off his seat, tail flicking behind him.

As the three of them turned toward the stairs, Kord called after them, gruff but kind: “Get some rest. And hey, try not to punch any of my regulars, alright?”

Gin glanced over his shoulder, the corner of his mouth twitching. “No promises.”

Kord huffed out a laugh and returned to wiping down the bar.

As they climbed to the top floor, the tension from earlier began to fade, but she could still see the frown between Gin’s eyebrows.

The hallway leading to their room was warm, and there was a small flickering on the bulbs. There was a faint scent of aged wood, their footsteps echoed softly on the creaking floorboards.

When they reached the room, Gin pushed open the door to reveal a modest yet cozy space. The room was adorned with simple furnishings: two twin beds with neatly made blankets, a small wooden table with a single chair, and a worn but comfortable-looking armchair in the corner. The walls were paneled with dark wood, giving the room a warm, rustic feel. A single window offered a view of the bustling street below, its curtains swaying gently with the night breeze.

A faint glow from a bedside lamp bathed the room in a golden light. The beds, though plain, looked inviting after the day they’ve went through. Each had a thick, woolen blanket folded at the foot, promising warmth.

Gin closed the door behind them, leaning against it with a sigh.

Ain hopped onto a bed, his tail flicking lazily as he settled at her feet. He glanced around the room, taking in the details. "Not bad," he mused, his voice breaking the silence. "Better than some places I've seen."

"It's a place to rest. That's what matters." Gin said.

Juno’s body ached. The bruises on her wrist throbbed where Sereph’s clawed grip had tightened too hard. The memory of him, his breath too close, the way he smelled her like she was something unnatural, made her stomach twist.

Gin hadn’t spoken much to her since he saved them. He had led them here with an unreadable expression, his usual coldness even more impenetrable than before. But as soon as they entered the room, he turned to face her fully.

His greenish eye flickered over her.

"Are you hurt?"

She was startled by the directness of his question.

Before she could answer, he was already stepping closer, reaching for her wrist. His fingers brushed against the bruised skin, gentle despite his rough exterior.

His brow furrowed slightly, lips pressing together as if something about the sight of her injuries bothered him.

He let out a quiet exhale through his nose. "Tch. That bastard grabbed you hard."

Juno gave a small nod, her gaze drifting to where his fingers held her wrist. “It’s not that bad,” she said quietly, though the bruises told another story.

Gin didn’t respond at first. He just kept looking at the mark, his jaw tight.

“You didn’t say anything the whole way here,” she added, her voice softer now. “I thought maybe you were mad.”

His brows knit slightly, but not in confusion. “Mad?”

“I don’t know,” she said, shrugging with one shoulder. “You were quiet, more than before. Maybe you regretted helping me.”

Gin scoffed under his breath. “If I regretted it, you’d know.”

That brought the tiniest curve to her lips. “You really know how to reassure someone.”

He ignored the jab, though the edge of his mouth twitched barely. “You’re still breathing. That’s what matters.”

Juno glanced up at him then, searching his face. “That’s not all that matters.”

A silence bloomed between them. And then, before she could stop herself, she spoke.

“Do you… think I smell weird?”

His fingers tensed almost imperceptibly around her wrist. “…What?”

She faltered, heart lurching in her chest. “Sereph said it. That I smelled… different. Like I was intoxicating or something like that.”

"Thought you’d never ask," Ain mused. He hopped down from the bed with a soft thud, padding toward them like a cat too pleased with himself. "It’s true. You don’t smell like regular humans. I’ve been picking it up since the beginning."

Juno’s cheeks flushed, but she didn’t break eye contact with Gin. “So it’s not just Sereph.”

Gin’s jaw worked, his gaze shifting, calculating something he didn’t say out loud. Then, finally, he let out a low breath.

“…You do have a scent,” he said.

His fingers moved slightly, just enough to graze higher along her forearm.

“It’s faint,” he said, still not letting go. “But it’s there.”

His eye lingered on her, like he was trying to piece something together.

“What does it mean?” she asked, barely louder than a whisper. “Why would I smell like that?”

“That’s the million-dollar question, isn’t it?” Ain murmured. “Demons don’t obsess over humans unless there’s a reason. Either something’s in your blood, or…”

Gin’s expression darkened slightly. “Or someone made you this way.”

Juno's throat went dry. “Made me?”

He didn’t elaborate. Juno forced herself to look Gin in the eye, searching for something in his expression that might give her more clarity.

Up close, she caught every detail; how tired he looked, the fine lines near his only visible eye, the sharpness in his features that didn’t quite hide the tension beneath. The way he held his breath for just a moment too long.

He knew more than he was saying.

Before she could speak Gin let go of her wrist, stepping back. The absence of his touch left her cold.

"Get some rest," he muttered. His voice returning to its usual indifference, but something in his expression stayed. "We’ll deal with this later."

Ain let out an exaggerated sigh. “Ah yes, let’s all ignore the obvious problem, classic.” He shot Juno a sideways smirk. “But hey, at least if some demon tries to eat you, you’ll know you smell delicious.”

She gave him a look, and without a word, she lay back on one of the beds. The mattress, surprisingly soft, gave beneath her weight. She stared up at the ceiling, her mind racing with fragments of the day; the run-in with Sereph, Gin’s touch, Kord’s words about the man Gin refused to talk about.

Ain stretched out beside her, his body curling comfortably, his eyes half-lidded with sleep. He looked like he was about to say something cheeky to Gin, but the thoughtful look on the man’s face made him hold back. Instead, he yawned, tail flicking once before settling against the blankets.

Gin stood by the window, staring out at the night. He didn’t speak for a long time. Then, finally, he glanced toward her. “Good night.”

Juno opened her eyes again, catching his gaze. “Good night, Gin. You too, Ain.”

Gin gave a small nod. A subtle curve pulled at his lips, just barely there. “Sleep well,” he said.

Juno closed her eyes again, letting the silence settle around them. She wasn’t sure what tomorrow would bring, but here, in this quiet moment, she didn’t feel alone.

Gin watched her for a while longer, then turned back to the window. The city outside was still, unusually so, but peace like this never lasted long.

Ain’s quiet purring filled the room and Gin let it lull him, his guard easing ever so slightly. He closed the window, then dropped into the old chair by the sill, resting his head against the worn wood.

Gin, haunted as he was, allowed himself for just a while to sit in it.