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Light blue eyes, messy black hair, face visibly tired and sad. A man just barely shorter than him. The woman that bumps into him as fireworks explode overhead apologizes, and then goes on her way without noticing anything wrong with the exchange. To everyone else, that man is human, but Rengoku's senses tell him that that man is anything but.
The two of them lock eyes, and Rengoku stiffens. His hand is immediately on the hilt of his sword, muscles taught with anticipation of provocation. Instead, all that happens is that the demon turns away and disappears.
—--------
They don’t see each other for the rest of the year. Rengok travels a lot, as he must, so sometimes he’ll come across the same thread of demonic presence. There is no obvious pattern: it appears in a city a few miles over, a few days later next to a small pond, and after silence for weeks it ends up in the completely opposite direction. Rengoku doesn’t have the time to try decoding this puzzle, either, and it stays frustratingly elusive.
However, no matter how often he finds that thread, he does not see the demon. Whether by design or poor luck, he does not know. The only thing that eases him– he finds himself guilty for it, but this way he can feel less like a failure– is the fact that whenever he asks the city people about a young “man” fitting the description, there is no horrific tale attached to it.
As time passes with no massacre, no one disfigured under mysterious circumstances, and not even a bitten insult at the mysterious “man”, the less Rengoku dreams of failure about letting the demon run away twice. However, his line of work does not give him the luxury of forgetting, even after months of silence. Dead end after dead end does not give him an excuse to give up and turn a blind eye.
One year later, Rengoku ends up stumbling upon the very same village he and that strange demon had met. Aware of that very fact, but unable to do anything about it when caring for three talented slayers, has left Rengoku restless. Eager, perhaps, but the emotion was too complex for him to bother trying to understand. So instead, he focuses on recovering from the Mugen Train mission: despite coming out alive and not heavily injured, he is tired.
As soon as Rengoku feels ready to move around again, he leaves the young trio behind, haori on his shoulders and sword at his hip. He was watching the city get ready for a festival from the window in his room, and now being able to walk amongst the festive cheer as fireworks color the sky makes an easy calm seep into his body.
However, as much as he’d like to relax and enjoy the festivities to their fullest, Rengoku keeps a steady hand on his hilt as he smiles at the people passing by. The innkeeper had mentioned a few missing people, and the best way to find people willing to talk to a stranger was to hand them booze.
Black hair, blue eyes. Demon wearing human skin, unnoticeable, had Rengoku’s instinct not tell him otherwise.
If the demon were the cause, then had he missed clues all the other times he had felt that string of demonic presence? If so, then he will finish what he started. Gritting his teeth, he makes his way into the inner heart of the city.
Sitting down and finding the first friendly face to talk to, Rengoku gets to work. However, he’s barely one cup in (and a few questions answered) when a regretfully familiar thread snaps his attention to the right. There, sitting alone on a bench and looking no different than the last time they met, was the demon. Much like last time, the “man” only stares.
“I’m afraid I’ll have to be going,” Rengoku apologizes to the man he’s sitting with, and drops coins onto the table without looking. “Here, buy yourself something nice.”
“Heheh, thanks buddy!”
Rengoku waves the man off, and moves to approach the demon. Visibly hostile, even with a smile on his face, Rengoku lets his intentions slip through. However, the demon only settles more firmly into the bench.
His hand has long since firmly gripped his sword’s hilt by the time he’s standing in front of his mortal enemy. The only thing stopping him from grabbing the demon by the neck is the fact that they’re out in public, and agitating such a creature would harm innocent civilians. The less aware innocent people are, the more peaceful life is for them.
As they stare at each other, the words ‘you’re scaring these people with that big sword you’re carrying’ comes to mind unbidden. The memory of the only sentence spoken from fanged lips makes Rengoku’s eyebrows twitch slightly.
… hmph.
“It’s not me,” the demon says suddenly. A simple sentence that brings nothing but confusion and doubt.
“I find that hard to believe,” Rengoku replies, tracking every move the demon makes, which is, admittedly, not much.
Instead of replying, the demon looks him up and down, and the gesture looks almost disinterested. Rengoku finds himself curious at this odd display of… demon interaction. The only hostile intent is coming from the slayer himself, and it was the same exact way when they first met, even after brandishing a blade.
The only demon he’s heard of that was uninterested in fighting was that one doctor young Kamado had mentioned. Even the Kamado demoness had an urge to fight– to protect– even if it was against her own kind.
Rengoku had always been curious, not to mention chatty. So, he doesn’t find himself that surprised that he blurts out, “You seem very disinterested in fighting me! Why? You are also very adept at hiding, even though you chose to let me approach you.”
“..what’s the point?” the demon eyes Rengoku from where his head is tilted away. “You have enough interest for the both of us.”
Feeling slightly embarrassed, Rengoku coughs into his free hand, and ends up staying silent. He can’t be too off-guard; this is the enemy, after all.
... is he?
Rengoku has met one incredible instance of self-restraint, and has heard of two more demons intent on helping instead of devouring. What is one more exception?
Easing his hostility, Rengoku briefly glances around. The few glances he got told him that his tense posture read “INTIMIDATION” towards an innocent young man. Sighing, Rengoku situates himself so he’s sitting down next to the demon.
The two sit in silence.
.. admittedly, it is a bit awkward.
“You know,” Rengoku starts, loud and sudden enough to startle the demon beside him. “I told you my name, but I don’t even know yours!” A seemingly innocent question, had the situation been different. He can feel the incredulous look directed at him.
Nonetheless, he responds, albeit hesitantly. “It… doesn’t matter.”
“On the contrary. If I ever need to call you, then I must call you something!” Rengoku likes to think that not looking over to the demon is for the demon’s benefit, when in fact he is sweating profusely for probably the dumbest decision he’s ever made in his life.
“... why would you need to call me?” Surprisingly, there is no suspicion. It is just dumbfounded. The demon must think poorly of Rengoku.
“You say the recent activities aren’t you’re doing, and you must know that I am going to investigate. If I run into something out there in the dark, shouldn’t I call out your name to prevent attacking a possible ally?”
The demon hums, and the weight of his stare slides off. From Rengoku’s peripheral, he sees him look out towards the passerbys. “It doesn’t matter. You can’t call me something I haven’t heard before.” His voice is slightly lowered, and Rengoku has to lean in slightly to hear it. He only realizes what he’s done when the demon leans back to maintain their distance.
Rengoku should leave. He should’ve left as soon as he considered sitting down, and yet.. Talking with this strange demon has been an experience he doesn’t find himself wanting to end just yet. He just chalks it up to the fact that ending up in a situation like this was a 1-in-a-thousandth chance.
… … maybe Rengoku can push his luck a little further. After all, after surviving Mugen Train, he’s had this feeling that something worse should have happened. If he hasn’t died yet, then surely he won’t now.
“If you call me by name, then I’ll drop it!”
Okay so Rengoku didn’t expect that to come out. He wasn’t even thinking about saying that (..maybe), and he just barely stops himself from walking away in embarrassment. However, he’s powerless to stop his ears from spiking in temperature.
“You’re weird,” the demon mumbles, slightly muffled. Risking a glance, Rengoku finds that the demon is looking away with a hand over his mouth.
Despite having the most embarrassing thing to happen (in a while, too; salt in the wound), Rengoku stands firm in what he said. The demon talks like Tomioka (in very sad tones) and is not much of a lively conversation partner, but he's stubborn in a way that makes Rengoku want to fight it. And so, he waits.
The demon continues to not look at him.
“Maybe I can call you–” Rengoku starts, hand coming up to his chin.
“How about that demon you’re supposed to be finding, huh Kyoujurou?”
“Ahem, well can you be of any help?” Rengoku chirps, ignoring the way his cheeks have warmed up, too. He also ignores any of the implications that brings.
“The demon can imitate. Don’t bother thinking that anyone you know is here.” And with that, the demon abruptly stands up. Apparently done with conversing, he disappears into the crowd with only a glance back to acknowledge Rengoku.
All he can do is stare after him.
And, as much as Rengoku really should stand up and be on his way, he keeps thinking about what just happened. They talked. Both of them. And he lived.
Hm.
He’ll be thinking about this for quite a while.