Work Text:
The forest is quiet and serene; the rush of a river from not too far away and the noises of owls, the singing of insects, all mixed with Genya’s uneven breathing, crouched by a low-hanging branch. The area around him is surrounded by fog, hiding the roots of the trees and stones nearby. His fingers tighten on the shotgun in his grip, the familiar weight helping ground him into reality instead of the literal demon in his head, eyes on the sharp claws extended from his fingers.
Stay human.
The words echo in his head, a constant reminder from Gyomei, a constant reminder from himself.
Stay. Human.
The taste of demon flesh--demon blood--lingers on his tongue, the craving gnawing at him, threatening to tear apart whatever scraps of humanity he still has, the small parts he does have he clings to desperately, clings to like he has nothing left to hold onto.
The hiss of the wind is loud, a threat of a storm brewing, sends Genya into his head, feeling his heart beating in his ears, feeling his pulse quickening. He can hear the growls from his stomach practically begging for more “food”. More demons. With sharpened senses, he looks up with the realization he can have that. The slightest flicker in the corner of his eye, he raises his hand as he tightens his grip on the gun, finger hovering over the trigger as he narrows his eyes and holds his breath.
Movement.
He pulls the trigger the second the demon lunged from the shadows, its claws extended to try and get to Genya’s throat, but it was too slow. Blood splatters from the demon’s decapitated neck, the BANG from the gun interrupting the forest's peace, and even the animals seem to go silent at the blast as the demon crumples into ash. Genya stands still, the sickeningly sweet smell of demon blood fills his nose, drool dribbling down his chin and falling onto the forest floor.
Just a bite, just a sip, a lick wouldn’t hurt, would it?
But it’s so tempting, it’s turning to ash--no one would know it happened, not Gyomei, he would just assume Genya did it at a different time. He wipes a hand across his lips to rid them of drool, stumbling forward and dropping to his knees. He reaches forward, breath picking up before--
“Genya.”
Whiplash. Genya stumbles over his long jelly-like legs and swallows thickly, nearly tumbling and tripping over a rock as he meets the floor, legs tangled into each other as the figure makes his way over. Genya shakes his head a bit violently, breathing in through his nose and exhaling through his mouth, sitting criss-cross as he tries to adjust his vision--red tinges the edges, everything is blurry and hazy, making focusing on the approaching person difficult. But the person gets closer, it’s easier to focus.
It’s not like Genya didn’t know who it was. The voice, the footsteps… Gyomei crouches down, his imposing figure calm, and through his impaired vision Genya can see the worry on his face.
“Genya, how are you feeling?”
The voice is calm, the beads in his hands rattling as he shifts his grip on them. Gyomei brings up a thumb to wipe away the drool from his lips, looking down and away. “I-... I’m fine.” He mutters, voice straining, a bit hoarse. “Just… fine.”
Gyomei frowns, his brows pinching as he seems to study Genya with his blind gaze. He sighs heavily and shakes his head. “You’re not,” he speaks in a low voice, making Genya heave a sigh and look away, “you don’t have to lie to me, Genya. I would never be mad at your feelings.”
Genya stares at the floor before nodding. “Okay,” he mumbles, mostly to give Gyomei a verbal answer. Gyomei stands, holding out a hand for Genya to take, which he does. He takes the hand and stands up, careful to not knick Gyomei with his claws as he dusts himself off, muttering angrily under his breath. As he looks up, Gyomei is already walking away, causing Genya to only slightly panic as he runs after Gyomei, frowning a bit.
The walk back is quiet. The fog doesn’t seem to be going away anytime soon, leading to Genya mostly looking down so he doesn’t trip over anything. But even as they approach the estate, he can still feel it.
The urges, how they claw the back of his throat. How he looks at Gyomei and the small voice at the back of his head whispers, what would he taste like?, making him want to gag. He bites his lip, trying to push the cravings down, bury them deep.
But Gyomei notices. He always notices.
“Are you going to tell me what’s on your mind, Genya?” He asks, not even looking back at Genya as they walk. “Or are you going to leave me in the dark and fight this battle on your own, only to lose it at a later time, then crash and burn?”
Ouch. “That was one time.” Genya weakly argues, nose scrunched up. Gyomei hums, causing Genya to roll his eyes. “I just… need more control.” He speaks up, deciding not to give the full truth. “Sometimes I doubt myself, is all.”
What if I don’t come back?
That’s the question he wants to ask. That’s what he’s scared of; the times where all his body and mind seem to want is more. More blood, more flesh, more power--more. And he isn’t sure if he’s strong enough to fight his own demons.
“You know, I’ll always be here to help you,” Gyomei informs, “no matter what.”
Genya nods to that, a noise of affirmation leaving him. Gyomei, seemingly accepting that, opens the door to the estate as they walk inside. Genya simply excuses himself and goes to his room, closing the door to hide away.
He just grabs his mirrors and stares at the demonic reflection.
He wants to believe that he’ll overcome it, he’ll overcome it each time.
But with each demon he consumed, that belief slips further and further away.