The air was thick with the scent of iron and decay.
Kinsuko's sharp gaze scanned the horizon. The mission had been a success. Another village had fallen, another town reduced to dust beneath her claws. Yet, something lingered.
A feeling.
A person.
She could feel his presence before he even spoke.
"You're far from home, Kinsuko," Kyoshi's voice broke the silence.
Her heart didn't skip—no, she'd long since buried that fragile thing deep inside her—but something in her chest clenched. She turned slowly, her eyes flashing crimson. "What do you want, Kyoshi?"
He was standing there, a few feet away, leaning casually against a tree, his white hair glowing under the moonlight, his green eyes soft but unwavering. He wasn't in a combat stance. No, he wasn't here to fight. He wasn't here for any of the things demons usually wanted.
And that made it worse.
"I thought we could talk," he said, a light grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. "I see you're keeping busy."
"You," she sneered, stepping forward, her claws flexing slightly. "You have the audacity to speak to me?"
Kyoshi's smile didn't falter. He seemed so… calm. His presence like a steady wave lapping at the shore. Not demanding. Not overpowering.
"I know you don't like me," he said easily, brushing a lock of white hair from his face. "But I'm patient. I can wait."
Kinsuko's fangs clicked in irritation. She hated that.
Hated how he seemed so unfazed by her anger. Most people would've been terrified by her growl, by the venom in her words, the raw, unrestrained fury she poured into every syllable. But not Kyoshi.
"You're a fool if you think I'll ever tolerate your presence," she hissed, her voice dark as night. "Leave. Now."
But Kyoshi didn't move.
"I could," he said, his tone light, "but I won't. Not yet."
Her eyes narrowed dangerously. "Why do you keep trying? You don't understand—"
"I don't understand what?" His voice was soft, teasing even, and he stepped closer, unbothered by the animosity rolling off her in waves. "You're not the first demon I've met, Kinsuko. You're not the first who's tried to push me away."
Her lips curled into a snarl. She stepped back, trying to retreat into the shadows of the night, trying to hide behind her walls, behind her bitterness. But even then, she couldn't stop the memories—the ones from before she became this. Before Kinsuko.
"Why do you keep being kind to me?" she growled.
Kyoshi's expression softened, and for the first time since their meeting, there was something genuine in his gaze—no pity, no false compassion. Just… kindness, unbothered.
"Because I don't think you're lost. And because, despite everything, I don't believe that cruelty is all you are."
Kinsuko's breath hitched—just for a second, just enough to make her feel like she was drowning in a sea of memories she wanted to forget. Her mother's voice. The way her fingers would trace patterns in her hair.
She squeezed her eyes shut, pushing the thought away.
"I'm not like you," she spat, her voice growing more distant. "I don't need saving. I don't want your kindness."
Kyoshi's smile never wavered, but his tone was gentle, almost teasing. "I know. But you might just find that it's not all about what you want. Sometimes, it's about what you need."
Her hands clenched. She took a step forward, claws bared, a surge of anger boiling up.
"Stop!" she snapped, her voice breaking. "You don't know anything about me! What makes you think I'll—"
Kyoshi's eyes sparkled. "I don't think you'll change overnight. But I do think you'll stop pushing me away at some point. You'll see."
Kinsuko's claws wavered. There it was again, the kindness—the patience—in his voice. It stirred something inside her she couldn't control. A warmth she hadn't felt in years. It felt foreign, like an old memory tugging at the back of her mind.
Her throat tightened, and for a split second, she wondered if she could tell him the truth. Tell him how she wasn't just a demon. Tell him she hadn't always been this way.
But she couldn't.
It would make her weak. Vulnerable.
She shook her head, turning away. "You're an idiot, Kyoshi."
A quiet chuckle followed her words. "I've been called worse," he replied, his voice playful. "But if you ever need someone to talk to, you know where to find me."
And just like that, he left—his steps light and easy, as if the tension between them had never existed.
Kinsuko stood there, the cold bite of the night air wrapping around her like a cloak. She closed her eyes and breathed in deeply, trying to shake off the feelings swirling inside her.
But deep down, something unsettled her.
Kyoshi hadn't tried to comfort her. He hadn't shown sympathy or pity.
He had treated her like a person.
And she hated that she found it… almost comforting.