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Jinga dies at Ryuga's blade, and Ryuga tries not to think about him.
Life goes on. He and Rian are given a new assignment, a new city to protect — Makai Knights are transient by definition, after all, and with Jinga and Amily likely staying dead, there's little reason for them to stay. There are other cities, other Horrors, other lives to be saved. Ryuga's done this dance before.
The thing is, though... Ryuga doesn't have dreams about Kaneshiro Tousei.
The first time it happens — the first time Ryuga hears that laugh when he closes his eyes, sees a flash of white hair and hand holding a Makai Knight's blade — Ryuga wakes up in a cold sweat. Rian wakes up moments later, the concern in her voice evident. "Ryuga? Are you alright?"
No, Ryuga thinks. It's been a while since he's had any kind of dream this intense, and he's never had one about Jinga before; his heart is still racing, pounding in his ears. "...Must've been a nightmare," he murmurs, running a hand through his hair. "It's nothing. You can go back to sleep."
"You're usually out like a light, Ryuga," Rian argues. She pauses, then, her brow furrowing; there's a recognition in her eyes that Ryuga can see, even in the darkness, and he wants to flinch away from it. "...It was... about him, wasn't it?"
Rian doesn't have to say his name for Ryuga to know exactly who she's talking about, and he knows her well enough to know that there's no getting this past her. He nods, swallowing hard. "I don't even know what happened. He was just... there."
Rian's hand comes up to Ryuga's shoulder. "He wasn't like any Horror we've faced before. It's alright to be afraid, you know."
Ryuga swallows again. "Yeah," he says, because he knows it's what he should say. Fear, after all, is human; it's fear that keeps him alive, and it's fear that's his duty to save those who can't fight from.
But deep, deep down, below the place where Ryuga puts every thought he has that's unbecoming of a Makai Knight, below the anger and pain and the guilt and every human he couldn't save — in that darkness, he knows what he feels towards Jinga isn't fear.
He knows the way his heart pounds against his chest when they meet isn't fear. He knows the way that his lungs squeeze as their swords clash isn't fear. He knows that the way he's always, always left panting after their duels isn't out of relief that he's escaped with his life.
No, Ryuga does not fear Jinga. The world isn't kind enough to give Ryuga that answer. But as long as he can tell himself it's fear, and keep that truth buried, and slay Horrors, as his duty, damn it — as long as he can do every single thing he's supposed to do...
Maybe the fear of his actual emotions towards that monster won't catch up with him.
It's a new city, and somehow, Ryuga's life starts to feel... normal — as normal as things can be for a Makai Knight, anyway. It's downright peaceful compared to Line City, though most places would be; it's strange, having anything resembling free time.
It'd probably be easier to adjust to if his thoughts didn't keep going back to the same place — to the same person — over and over, as if his own mind is a labyrinth he can't escape from. He tries to train, to meditate, to get stronger, to outrun everything he's left behind, and it just — it feels impossible. And the Horrors he's fighting now aren't Jinga — Ryuga knows they're not Jinga. He can tell. Jinga would be smiling. Jinga would be having the time of his fucking life, and —
(And Ryuga would be, too.)
He should be grateful that things are routine. He should feel like his job's gotten easier, not more difficult. He should be able to look Rian in the eye when she asks him if he's happy. He should be able to say yes without it feeling like a lie.
He hates the fact that Jinga's a Horror, because it means that he can always, always come back; he's grateful for it, because it means that Ryuga can always, always cut him down; and then, Ryuga hates it again, because it means he hasn't come back yet. Ryuga has to live like this, has to fight like this, looking for silver hair out of the corner of his eye and, to his disgust, hoping he'll find it — it's like he's losing what it means to be a Knight. Under no circumstances should he be wishing he could see a Horror. It goes against everything he's been taught. It goes against what he is.
And if he could just stop dreaming of Jinga, maybe — god, fuck, maybe he could be who he's supposed to. Or hell, if he could dream about any other Horror — if he could see Enhou or Tousei or Sonshi, or fuck, even Amily — then maybe Ryuga would be able to at least act like he's the knight he's supposed to be.
But the dreams — they don't stop. Ryuga wishes they were nightmares; that's the excuse he always uses, anyway, and he's been lying so much lately that he doesn't even have to think about it. But of course they're not nightmares. Of course his brain spits out images of every time Jinga's been close to him, every time Jinga's blade nearly stole away his life, even the memory of Jinga's boot on his chest — even the dreams where he kills Jinga, where he drives his sword into that monster's chest and watches him return to the darkness where he came from, feel too... personal.
The worst part, of course, is waking up from those dreams. The sense of dissatisfaction started as an annoyance, but now, it's a god damn ache. It won't go away until he sees Jinga again.
(One night, he asks Rian about curses — if a dying Horror can inflict something on whatever poor Makai Knight ends up killing it that'd make him... feel strange — or off, or sick.
Ryuga can't quite make out what the look on her face is trying to say. He doesn't like how close it seems to I'm sorry.)
The rumors of a man with silver hair lurking in the city's shadows are easy enough to dismiss. They'll go away on their own in time, Ryuga tells himself, over and over.
The times he hears a voice whispering Dougai, well — Ryuga hasn't been sleeping well lately (because if he sleeps, he'll dream); of course he'd start hearing things that aren't there. He's tired, that's all. Makai Knights don't exactly get breaks.
When more Horrors start appearing — that's not necessarily Jinga's fault. It's — it's a stressful world they live in, and that opens up room in human hearts for darkness, that's all. It isn't the Horror that haunts Ryuga's every waking moment trying to find something delicious to eat.
By the time it becomes impossible to ignore, the denial has become as natural to Ryuga as breathing. He's so good at it that Rian approaches him carefully, like he hasn't been hypervigilant for months, keeping track of every single place he very pointedly doesn't see signs of Jinga, like it'll come off as anything but something Ryuga's long been resigned to. "It's... it's him, Ryuga," she says, her voice shaking.
"...Figures he wouldn't stay dead," Ryuga murmurs, his heart thudding in his chest. He grabs the hilt of his sword as tightly as he can, as if that action will ground him in some way; he looks around the small safe house the two of them have been staying in, in an attempt to not meet Rian's eyes. "Do we know where he's operating from?"
"Not yet. Though he did always like those high rises — I can investigate later," Rian adds, with a small shudder. "But, Ryuga... are you... going to be alright?"
There's something else that Rian's really asking, and Ryuga hears it without her saying it: what will become of you, should you face Jinga again?
Ryuga swallows. "I don't know," he admits, his voice hoarse. "But it's not like I have a choice, do I? It's my duty to slay Horrors."
(That's who he is — someone with a duty to slay Horrors. That's who he was born to be. That's what he was made into. The most powerful, strong-willed Makai Knights can make soul metal feel as light or as heavy as they need it to; Ryuga's no exception, because he can't be.
He doesn't say a word about how even at its lightest, his armor presses on him as if he's being crushed.)
"...We'll need to be careful," Rian says, after a moment. She isn't looking Ryuga in the eyes, and... well, Ryuga can't blame her. "I'll contact Ryume. She'll have ideas. Ryuga, you... you try to get some rest, alright?"
Ryuga nods. "I'll try," he promises; he knows he'll at least make an attempt to shut his eyes. He'll have to be at his best, if he's going to face Jinga again.
(He's heard that on Christmas, kids get too excited to sleep. As Ryuga stares at the back of his eyelids, so awake that it's painful, he wonders if this is what that's like.)
Of course, once she's established it, Ryuga decides to not follow Rian's plan at all.
It's a good plan — a plan that would definitely work, and definitely wouldn't get Ryuga killed. He could pull every instruction she gave him off, and easily, too.
Instead, Ryuga slides Zaruba off of his finger, and sneaks out of the safe house while Rian's fast asleep. I'll be back before she's awake, he tells himself — he can tell it's a lie, of course, but Ryuga can't afford to not return; if he plants the idea in his mind that he will, he won't be tempted by the alternative.
The Horror that Jinga's been preparing for his dinner is easy enough to find, and even easier to kill; there isn't even a barrier protecting the warehouse where it'd made its base of operations. He wonders, briefly, if he's walking into a trap —
"There you are. I've been waiting, Dougai Ryuga."
Ryuga turns; he swallows hard, so as to prevent his breath from catching in his throat. "You shouldn't remember anything. When Horrors return from Makai —"
"— they lose their memories, right?" Jinga cracks that too-wide smile; Ryuga hopes his clothes hide the way he shivers. "I guess I lucked out this time."
"Luck, huh," Ryuga replies, nearly snarling. "It doesn't matter. Your end is right here."
Jinga pouts. "How mean of you. And to think I came all this way, just to see you..."
"I lured you here," Ryuga corrects, gripping his sword. "You were going to feed on that Horror, weren't you?"
"And I let you lure me here. I'd expect a thank you, if anything," Jinga drawls, walking towards Ryuga without a care. "So?"
"What — I'm not going to thank you —"
"Then why are we here, Dougai? I don't think you want to fight." Jinga smiles, looking Ryuga up and down as if he's a particularly delicious-looking Horror. "Could it be —"
"You're here," Ryuga grits out, "because I'm going to kill you."
"Again? You must really like me," Jinga says, that horrid grin only growing wider. "I am married, but the attention is certainly flattering."
As if that's stopped you before, Ryuga thinks, shaking his head. "I don't like you."
"Of course you don't," Jinga agrees, and — and Ryuga isn't sure how, or when, Jinga got this close to him, but his fingers tilt Ryuga's chin up, just a little. Ryuga's breath hitches, and to his anger, Jinga hears it; he lets out a soft, dark chuckle. "That's why you aren't moving, right?"
"Shut up," Ryuga says, too late and too weakly for the threat to truly be effective.
He shoves Jinga off, and Jinga, to his credit, makes a show of stepping away, his hands raised. "So it's a matter of you blowing off steam, then?"
"What on earth —"
"Look at you," Jinga continues, circling Ryuga like a vulture. "So tense." His hands come to rest on Ryuga's shoulders, kneading just hard enough for Ryuga to let out a hiss. "To think you came to me for help. Is that priestess who's always following you around —"
"This isn't about Rian," Ryuga interrupts. "She — she has nothing to do with this."
Jinga's eyebrow quirks. "Clearly," he says, with a roll of his eyes. "Someone's feeling defensive."
"This isn't about her," Ryuga repeats. "I'm going to —"
"Kill me. I know, I know." Jinga rolls his eyes. "So?"
Ryuga glares. "What do you mean, so?"
Jinga gestures at his form. "I'm here. You're ready to kill me. Are you going to, or are we going to chat for a while longer?" He then grins, once again approaching Ryuga — too close, too fast, and Ryuga feels it low in his stomach. "Or will we get up to what I was going to suggest, before you so rudely interrupted me?"
"I have..." Ryuga says, trailing off; he swallows, steeling himself. "I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Oh, I think you do. You're tense, Dougai," Jinga repeats, drumming his fingertips on Ryuga's shoulder. "You need relief. And you came to me."
Ryuga grabs Jinga's wrist, squeezing it as tightly as he can and glaring. "I didn't come here for some tryst."
"Oh, really?" Jinga asks, feigning boredom. "I hadn't the slightest idea." He reverses Ryuga's grip with ease; Ryuga immediately begins struggling, because he's not sure what he'd do if he didn't.
"Let go of me, you —"
"That's not what you want."
"You have no fucking idea —"
"It's like I said, isn't it? You want relief, and you came to me." Jinga grins wickedly, shoving Ryuga face-first against the door. "I can give you what it is you want. I can bring all that darkness inside of you right to the surface, where it belongs... you could let go of everything, Dougai."
"I'd rather die than become something like you," Ryuga spits, though his voice is muffled by the wall in front of him. He very pointedly doesn't press himself back into Jinga, even though he can feel that supernatural cold of Jinga's body surrounding him, seeping into his bloodstream like a poison —
"Wouldn't it feel nice, Golden Knight?" Jinga asks, in that too-casual tone that makes Ryuga know he's being completely serious; his lips are just next to Ryuga's ear, his words inescapable. "You've buried so much for so long. Aren't you tired?"
Yes, Ryuga doesn't say. Of course he's tired. Of course he's absolutely exhausted — being a Makai Knight, being Garo, is a burden, and god, every single day it feels like it's one that's getting heavier. There's not a single person Ryuga can say that to, but he's definitely not going to say it to Jinga.
He won't, even as those cold hands circle his waist; he can feel Jinga's breath against his neck as the bastard keeps talking. "Come on, Dougai. You can admit it. I can smell it on you," he adds, as if he's noticing the color of Ryuga's armor. "All of that misery. The grief. The lust."
"Shut up," Ryuga gets out, through gritted teeth. "I'll kill you. I'll fucking kill —"
"If you wanted to kill me, you would've already." Jinga's touch disappears; Ryuga lets out a breath he didn't quite realize he was holding. "Unless you finally want to admit how much fun it is when we have our little duels..."
"Shut the fuck up!"
Jinga laughs. It's so — he's so fucking insufferable — Ryuga's hands are around his throat before he realizes he's doing it. If only he could kill Jinga like this. It'd be so much more personal than just using his sword, if Ryuga could just suffocate him, just take away his breath —
"You are enjoying yourself," Jinga says, his voice wholly unaffected by Ryuga's attempted strangulation. "This is the most you've vented your frustration in months, isn't it? You can give me more than —"
He's cut off by Ryuga punching Jinga in the face — but even that doesn't seem to deter him. "Good," he says, so raggedly that it makes Ryuga's stomach twist in disgust. "Very goo–"
Another punch. "Shut up." Another one; Jinga smiles, so Ryuga hits him again. "You don't understand anything. You haven't been human for a long time." Another hit; Ryuga feels the skin of his knuckles starting to bleed. "You think I can give in? When the world is relying on me to protect it from monsters like you? Don't fucking make me laugh."
"Then kill me," Jinga replies, too easily, his eyes shining with delight. "Use your sword, Dougai. You are a Makai Knight, aren't you?"
"Yeah," Ryuga agrees. "I am."
And maybe, maybe if he was a good Makai Knight, he'd do it quickly.
Ryuga's arms are heavy as he draws his sword once again. He puts it to Jinga's throat, knowing that he doesn't have to draw this out, that he doesn't have to make this last a moment longer than it has to. Jinga isn't fighting back. This could be over.
But Ryuga wants — needs — to see it, to feel it, to make sure, with his own hands and eyes, that Jinga won't come back to haunt him again. When he slices Jinga's throat, it's the slowest he's ever killed a Horror. He wishes he could say it doesn't feel more intimate than a kiss, hotter than anyone who's touched him before.
He can't.
"I thought so," Jinga says, grinning, even as his body begins disappearing into darkness. "We'll meet again, Dougai Ryuga."
(The moment Ryuga finds a mirror in a random public bathroom, he flicks his lighter open and stares into his reflection.
His eyes remain their natural color. Still human, he thinks, fully aware of how he should feel relieved.)