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“No good,” Genya whispers under his breath, sprinting deep into the forest.
He’s well aware that it’s pointless to worry about the aftereffects of his demon abilities lasting longer than usual. He tries to recall his mentor’s comments regarding this peculiar skill of his. All he needs to do right now is focus on keeping a calm mind and finding a place for shelter. He could return to Himejima’s place. After all, the reason he took this mission without hesitation was because he could return home easily since it was close enough to reach by foot.
As he attempts to keep his thoughts at bay, he still struggles. “This is bad…”
Even though the demon is long gone, Genya can still hear its thoughts inside his head. This is the first time that he’s experiencing this. Not only are the voices louder and more prevalent with each passing minute, but they also come with a primal need for human flesh.
That’s not new for him. It was obvious that the superhuman strength and healing speed wouldn’t be given out for free. Ever since he gave into this cursed skill of his, he has always felt their hunger, their fear, the gruesome feeling of all the lives that they devoured to become as strong as they are. He remembers what Himejima told him the first time he found Genya struggling with the aftereffects, “There is always a risk, but if you are aware of these effects and insist on fighting this way, then you need to accept this side of your ability.”
He curses under his breath as he stops running, looking around to have a better understanding of his surroundings and his current location. He’s deep in the forest low in the mountains’ outskirts. The sun had only set a couple hours ago, and it’s dark. If he goes back to Himejima, he doesn’t know what will happen. Hurting a human has been among his biggest fears. What would happen if he ever tried to hurt Himejima? He couldn’t bear the guilt of the idea of acting like a wild beast towards him.
His mentor has known Genya’s worst side already, which does not make him proud. He was the first to calm him down when his demon-eating ability backfired on him, the first one to contain him when he lashed out at him in the midst of his desperate attempt to get stronger, and the first to be there for him and teach him other tools that he could use to not tire his body as much with the very draining demon form.
Himejima has always been wary of that side of him. He often told him to use other techniques, other weapons. The shotgun, the repetitive actions… hell, even working with other members of the corps all in order to not eat demons. But as stubborn as he is, Genya always gives in. Himejima just doesn’t get it. He’s naturally strong, unlike Genya. He’s the strongest pillar, and he’s been doing this for half his life! He can easily think of an alternative to cover his weaknesses because he’s naturally strong.
Genya can’t.
His shotgun comes in handy most of the time, but he always struggles in close combat. Every time he fights, he comes back wounded and full of scratches. No matter the strength of the demon. What for Himejima would be a normal day of work, coming back with his uniform still pristine, for Genya feels like the longest war in his life.
Soon enough, Genya finds shelter in the depths of the forest. His ragged panting, a showcase of his struggles to keep calm, filled the gaps between each tree and crevice in the dense foliage. His trembling body collapsed as he finally found rest in the uncanny calm of the dark, cold night surrounding him. However, any attempt for his ever-anxious heart to reach an even pattern would not suffice, as his thoughts remained stuck on the look of his hands, the dryness of his mouth, the hot feeling under his skin, anything that reminded him that the effects of his demon abilities were not fading away.
“…” A soft sigh escapes as he tries to find comfort in his hideout.
Even if he doesn’t understand Genya because of their wildly different experiences, he still chose to mentor him. It’s clearly not part of his job as a pillar to take care of a 16-year-old who already has a foul mouth and yells and squeaks whenever things turn wrong. Feeding him, tending his wounds, notifying Shinobu to attend to him, listening to his endless ramblings and life rants, and so on. Anyone in Himejima’s position would reject Genya without hesitation. Even with his persistence, another pillar just wouldn’t give in to his requests.
But Himejima did.
And he worries about him too.
“I’ll go back once it wears off,” he mutters to himself. His heart is hammering inside his chest, and he can feel himself sweating cold, but he still gives himself time to think about how best to not worry Himejima any further. “I can’t show myself like this,” he thinks, making it clear that he absolutely didn’t want his mentor to see him in this state.
The wind shakes the leaves above him. A serenade of a sound similar to that of the sea envelopes him as he covers his face, burying himself into his knees as he tries to find comfort. The cold feeling creeping under his skin serves as a reminder that he’s still a human, despite all. However, right now, he can’t help but disagree, for he believes he loses a bit more of his humanity with each passing day.
“If I ever turn into a demon,” he whispers to himself, his eyes lingering at the glimmering sky showing between the gaps of each leaf above him, “would Sanemi still forgive me?”
That’s a question that has been troubling him for a while. What he craves the most is forgiveness, to mend that broken bridge that keeps growing weaker between them. So while he wished that his brother would approach him with forgiveness, his goal remained to apologize with all his heart.
Still… if he turns into a demon, there’s no way Sanemi would even give the time to listen to Genya’s words.
“He’d kill me,” he concludes. Somehow, even though he’s accepting of such a fate and would like that to be his resolution should things go awry, he still feels his bottom lip tremble, his teeth grit softly, and streams of warm tears roam free down his face.
If there’s anything he fears the most, it would be the loss of his brother. Both literally and figuratively. On days like this, the idea of being stripped away from his family becomes unbearable. He can deal with it on any other day, and sometimes it doesn’t even hurt him as much. He has done well in running away from the painful loneliness that follows him around, but on days like these, where he’s forced to stop and think, his aching heart serves as a constant reminder of the heavy luggage that he carries around.
He wipes some tears in frustration with the hope that they’ll stop once they dry on his skin. His poor attempts, however, fail as stronger waves of sorrow take over his body. He weeps.
A tug in his heart returns him to the painful memories that led him into this situation. Maybe it is true. Maybe Sanemi is right. Maybe he is undeserving of a life of normalcy. Maybe his untalented being, not meant for success in this path, should just give up on his desperate attempts to reach his brother.
Maybe this end was meant to be. In his stubbornness, fitting to the Shinazugawa family, he was bound to reach this path. This very moment where he succumbs to the devil blood threatening to… to turn him into this… this monster…
“Genya,” a voice from afar calls for him, bringing him back to earth before he falls into the pitch-black hole of self-depreciation and a fear that was eating him alive. “Are you here?”
Genya looks around, lost for a minute. He knows that voice; he has heard it quite a lot. His name is now a common word in his vocabulary. At this point in his life, he has heard all the undertones that his name can be said out loud by this very person. His mentor, his guide, his caregiver, the figure he has lacked his whole life.
“Himejima,” he whispers to himself. “I can’t let him see me like this,” he mutters under his breath, standing up and sprinting deeper in the forest.
His vision is blurry, and his hearing is muffled with a ringing noise amidst his anxiety. He looks behind himself as he continues running away, quick on his feet as he decides to find a path to a new hideout. At least, for as long as his demon abilities consume him, he’d rather be away from him and not hear his grunt of disappointment.
That was his plan, of course, before he found himself stopping abruptly. A tall, huge wall standing in front of him. Hands stuck in an endless prayer; gray, foggy eyes already welling up. In his attempt to run from Himejima, Genya, ironically, ended up finding him.
“Genya, why didn’t you return?” he says, his voice low enough to make the ground shake underneath him. Even though his tall frame and solemn voice could scare anyone, for Genya it is evident that Himejima was extremely worried for him. He feels guilt creeping up his neck.
“I’m… I was on my way.”
“You weren’t. Your crow called for me.”
“That…” he mutters, looking down. Of course he did. That crow of his… he can say it was made for him. It’s like he follows his own orders and is more often than not away from Genya, probably messing around with other crows from other members of the corps.
Or, like now, giving Himejima his exact location.
“What’s the matter, Genya?” Himejima approaches with a tint of worry in his voice. “Was there a reason you didn’t want to return?”
“It’s nothing,” he answers almost instantly, out of instinct. The denial of his pain was nothing new, and today would be no different. Even if Himejima has earned his trust, he won’t share such thoughts with him.
“…” Himejima shifts slightly, the noise of his prayer beads clicking make up for the deafening silence surrounding them.
Genya stares at him, then elsewhere. His gaze trails around awkwardly as he tries to not succumb to the quiet pressure heavy on his shoulders. The unspoken questions get louder with each passing second, nudging him to reveal at least a drop of whatever is overwhelming him.
Himejima never asks, never shows persistence in knowing everything troubling Genya. He doesn’t take that as a lack of interest because it’s never been the case. In his silence, he has helped Genya overcome a lot of painful memories, often giving short words of advice or just a lending ear, which is something he has always craved. This time, he doesn’t ask either. He doesn’t insist, doesn’t push him past his limits until he releases all that pain devouring him. Instead he stands still, unwavering. Neither the wind nor the trembling ground will make him falter and step back.
Genya groans, his hand holding his face as he looks down. “It’s not wearing off.”
“When did it start?” Himejima’s voice didn't show any shock because it was clear that he already knew.
“Like three hours ago.”
“I see,” he mutters. Then, he speaks again, his voice firm, “Should we go to the butterfly-”
“I don’t want to go there.” His answer is resolute. The least he needs right now is to have someone look at him with disappointment.
“…Genya,” Himejima starts with his low voice, “you know getting help is not a punishment. But I’ll respect your decision.” Then, he walks forward, leading the path back to his place.
Genya glances at him, following his lead. His lips purse into a thin line as he tries to hold back a sigh of relief. He nods faintly, looking down for a minute. The guilt of worrying Himejima with his nonsense overcomes the fear of his demon abilities not wearing off.
“…I’m sorry,” he whispers.
“Don’t apologize.”
“I can’t not apologize; I’m wasting the time of a pillar-”
“Genya.” It’s Himejima’s turn to interrupt him. “Have you been using the breathing exercises I taught you? Try them now. If your demon features don’t wear off, then we’ll give it a look at home.”
He perks up at his words, a little taken aback by his sudden change of topic. Genya shakes away his surprise, his gaze on Himejima’s back, his mind now focusing on the breathing exercises that his mentor had taught him.
If there was a word to describe his relationship with Himejima, it would be anticlimactic. They aren’t distant from each other but not close either. Their labels as mentor and mentee often blur to that of a father and his son. Rarely has he seen Himejima fully commit to it, and Genya is too embarrassed to call him his father figure, but there’s a bond and mutual understanding that comes naturally for them.
Deep inside his wounded heart, Genya knows he’s not alone anymore because Himejima will always be there as a strong foundation in his life. As he gives their bond some thoughts with each careful breath, he feels his aching heart slow down, his heart rate stabilizing. With each step closer to their home, Genya feels himself warm up, grateful to know he has a place to return to.
As they reach the entrance, waiting for Himejima to take off his shoes and walk inside, he glances at his hands. His fingernails are back to their usual length. He hurries to take out his pocket mirror and finds that his eyes are back to normal, as is his hair. A long, long sigh escapes his lips as he places a hand to his chest.
“Is it gone?” Himejima speaks, taking off his haori and hanging it near the entrance.
“Yes,” he answers.
“Good.” He turns to him, a faint smile visible on his face. “I made stew. Please help me with setting the table.”
Genya sighs, answering with a soft smile. Even if not fully present emotionally, he knows Himejima will always be there as an important figure in his life. Today and forever, he will be grateful for the day that he first stepped into this house.
“On it,” he speaks in a soft tone, walking into the kitchen.