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Demon was a word that fit Leo well.
Almost all the people he had come across in his life described him as such, and even though other people’s opinions were of no value to him, he would be inclined to agree with them in this singular instance.
Leo was well aware that callousness, cynicism, and egoism were frowned upon traits in the society he lived in. He didn’t need anyone to tell him that, though they had told him plenty; many more times than he cared to hear. It was almost as if they thought their words mattered to him.
He thought he had made it clear enough—his blatant disregard for people. From talking down to others, using them, or even directly sabotaging them, he had done a plethora of things demonstrating his lack of concern for anyone besides himself.
And so, when people called him a demon, he could only find it amusing. What else did they expect Leo Kurosagi to be? Surely not a saint.
That was why him dating you was nothing out of the ordinary. Or well, to some extent, he supposed it was. After all, you were nothing like any of the other women he’d been with. Where they were all prominent figures in one way or another, you were someone who could go missing without being noticed. Where they were all extravagantly gorgeous, you were plain and minimalistic. You weren’t ugly by any means—he’d never date an ugly girl—and you weren’t homely, either. If anything, you had a rather pleasant face and an appealing figure. However, despite not having any noticeable flaws, you were completely unremarkable.
He wasn’t even sure what it was about you—if it was your physical features alone, your taste in clothing, or the way you carried yourself—but you were simply just plain. Had you not been sent to Darkwick Academy as an exceptional case, he wouldn’t have bothered interacting with you. In fact, if the circumstances had been any different, he wouldn’t have even noticed your existence to begin with.
However, you were the pitiful human struck by a curse, kept hostage by Darkwick until either a cure is found, or your time runs short. That, by itself, was insignificant to Leo; what caught his attention was the academy’s decision to make you an honour student and supervise the ghouls’ investigation cases.
It was a job much too important for someone like you—a weak, useless human girl who was only there by sheer chance. At least, that was what he thought at the beginning. He quickly found out how prominent your ability was, and by extension, how useful it would be to have you cater to him.
It wasn’t exactly necessary to date you. He could’ve just been close friends with you, but where was the fun in that?
Not to mention, love was such an easy weakness to exploit. There wasn’t a single person on this earth who was invulnerable to the emotion—except him, but he was no mere mortal—and he made good use of that fact.
Having witnessed and orchestrated the calamities this feeling brought, Leo knew not to fall for such a trap himself. He didn’t need to; he was well versed at convincing others, and to lie about having feelings was no exception.
Admittedly, it was more difficult than he had imagined with you. You were one of those girls that cared about personality—how boring—and preferred conversation over glittering gifts.
He knew he wasn’t the most pleasant to speak with generally, but his tongue was deft at changing its speech, and it wasn’t long until he had you for himself.
Oh, you were absolutely enamoured with him. You visibly adored him, showering him with affection and devoting your time to him. He had you wrapped around his finger, led around like a dog on a leash. And you were so attached to him, he could treat you however carelessly he wanted without you even considering leaving him.
“Leo?” Your voice cut through the tranquillity of his apartment, jostling him from his thoughts.
“What?” He didn’t bother masking the irritation in his voice; he was in the middle of working on programming Sho’s food ordering application.
“Can we talk?”
“I’m busy,” he replied dismissively, not bothering to glance back at you.
“With what?” you asked, further nagging him.
“Doesn’t matter.”
“It’s important.” The tone of your voice indicated a sense of urgency, which made him halt for a second. He considered stopping his work, but the thought ended there. He was not going to pause just because you wanted him to.
“Ugh,” he grumbled. “I’m not in the mood to talk right now. Can’t we do this later?”
A moment of silence, followed by two words.
“I see.” The soft sound of footsteps followed after, indicating that you had left the room.
Leo was mildly confused; you didn’t typically let things go so easily. If anything, you were obnoxiously insistent on certain matters, oftentimes making a fuss when he didn’t display the amount of care you desired. It was rather bothersome, but he supposed it was only natural—he had put in far more effort at the start of your relationship in order to secure you.
The faint sound of shuffling could be heard from the bedroom, but it was soon tuned out by his focus on his work. At some point, he heard the apartment door open and close. He glanced at the time on his phone, seeing that it was quarter to midnight. It was rare for you to go out so late, but he shrugged it off as nothing noteworthy. Perhaps you had an anomalous case to deal with. It wasn’t something he paid attention to.
At half past midnight, Leo decided he was tired of working on the application. Closing his laptop, he pushed himself up from his desk before heading to the washroom to brush his teeth.
Upon reaching for his toothbrush, he noticed that yours was not beside his, as it usually was. He wasn’t sure why; he considered asking you later but decided that what you did with your toiletries didn’t really concern him. He finished his preparations for going to bed and retired to his bedroom for the evening.
His eyes widened at the sight of the empty room before him.
No, it wasn’t just you not being on his bed, where you usually lounged as you waited for him to come to sleep. You weren’t there, but more concerning was that any trace of you having stayed there had disappeared.
Your school bag, usually placed beside the nightstand, was missing. The few coats you had folded over his chair were gone. He hastily flung open his closet door; your clothes weren’t there, either. Everything from your school uniform to your loungewear had seemingly dissipated into thin air.
Disbelief flooded his mind. He was quick to piece together what had occurred, but slow to process it happening.
You? Leaving him? That surely couldn’t be it. You loved him.
While he hadn’t been the best boyfriend as of late, with such an emotion clouding your judgement, you couldn’t ever think of leaving him for it. If anything, you would be more likely coming to him in tears, demanding more attention.
Now that he thought about it, he was certain that was what you were doing—just slightly differently. Instead of directly confronting him about the issue at hand, you were throwing a fit over it in hopes of getting a reaction out of him.
Leo let out a small breath of relief that he didn’t know he was holding. The tension left his body at the realization that you were just seeking attention. You’d come back eventually, after you realize that he’s not buying into your childish behaviour.
But you didn’t.
Two weeks had since passed, and he hadn’t even caught sight of you on campus. While he didn’t go out of his way to search for you—as to not give into your petty demands—it was obvious that you were going out of your way to avoid him on campus.
It was vexing, the way you seemed to actually not want him anymore. He could feel a sense of unease stirring in his stomach at the thought of you being serious about leaving him. He quickly shook himself out of it.
Even if you were to have left him, it wasn’t like it mattered, anyway. Sure, it was convenient to have you around, but it wasn’t like he needed you. He was more than capable of living without you. He wasn’t even sure why he was wasting energy thinking about you coming back; he could just as easily replace you and forget you ever existed.
A month later, with no sign that you were even in Darkwick still, Leo did exactly that.
He didn’t usually care for having a girlfriend outside of entertainment for himself and additional traction for his content, but he came to the conclusion that the unsettling feeling in his viscera resulted from the suddenness of your departure. It was an unexpected change to his daily routine; something he was not generally fond of.
It was an easy fix—finding someone else to fit into his life the same way. After some back and forth texting, he was sitting at a café with another content creator. She was undoubtedly attractive, with long, fluttering eyelashes and perfectly glossed lips. Definitely far more eye-catching than you were.
Leo didn’t remember much of the date. All he could remember was returning to his apartment and sinking into his bathtub, feeling dissatisfied. Surrounded by foaming bubbles and hot waters, he felt the blood in his veins turn to ice as he came to the chilling realization that not even his usual bath felt good for him.
How ludicrous. It must be a coincidence; there’s no way the hollow ache in his chest right now could be attributed to you. It couldn’t be. It was something unimaginable—for him to be feeling this way over you. Over pathetic, boring you.
And yet, it was unmistakable. The acrid taste in his mouth intensified at the thought of you, his heart seeming to beat in tandem with the pulsing anguish that ricocheted within his ribcage.
He didn’t think he paid much attention to you, but memories he wasn’t aware he even recalled began pouring into his mind. From the first time you snuck out of Darkwick’s suffocating campus together, to your wincing expression when you mistakenly ate one of his spicy doughnuts, to the softness of your lips and tenderness in your eyes as you fondly gazed at him—his mind was possessed, replaying events that sent shards of glass stabbing into his heart.
Leo’s eyes stung, his vision growing hazy with unborn tears. The horror of the situation dawned on him then, his complexion growing pale.
He couldn’t. He couldn’t cry. He was Leo fucking Kurosagi.
He was above the rest of mankind, above such inane, nonsensical emotions. He was above such weakness. To be on the verge of tears over a girl—and a mundane one at that—was unthinkable. To be vulnerable in such a manner was truly appalling and revolting. It was utterly sickening. It was—
No, no, this couldn’t be happening.
He was a demon. He was a fucking demon; everyone around him knew that. He was a demon through and through.
A tear slid down Leo’s cheek, leaving a trail of scalding shame in its wake. Another escaped, running along a symmetrical path.
Maybe he was a mere mortal, after all. Or, perhaps, even the numinous can be rendered weak.