His head felt dizzy, and not just because of the truth that had come to light. The Yatonomori Kaneomi blade in Aoba’s hands held the ability Demon Wail, able to seal demons away. Jinya was only cut lightly by it, but his arms and legs felt heavy. His body was languid, his mind hazy. His state reminded him that no matter how much he tried to adjust to the world of man, he was an inhuman thing.
“Demon Eater… Please, don’t resist.” Aoba pointed the tip of the blade at the demon she had heard so much about since she was young. She held no malice toward him; she simply didn’t want her grandfather’s feelings to be for nothing. Her heart bore no hate for the Demon Eater, but it was set on slaying him regardless. She stood before Jinya as the unmalicious assassin Motoki Soushi had so desired. “…Have you nothing to say?”
“What is there to be said?” asked Jinya.
“I… I don’t know. Don’t you have any justifications to make?”
Jinya figured Soushi must have seen him devour Furutsubaki. That was why he had been under the false impression that he had killed Saegusa Sahiro.
He scoffed. What did it matter? He pitied Sahiro, but he’d killed and devoured Furutsubaki for his own personal aims. To claim otherwise would be wrong. He deserved to be hated. What’s more, he couldn’t deprive Aoba of her enemy here and now, or her lingering regrets would never fade.
“What’s the point of making excuses? What you know is mostly correct. I’ve killed many people, humans and demons alike. I have no intention of trying to justify myself at this point,” Jinya said. He could not understand Aoba’s heart, but as someone who had lived a long life and felt many things, he could not deny her attempt to console the spirit of her grandfather by fulfilling the wish she inherited.
“I’ve wavered over what I should do. I didn’t think the demon I lured in would be someone like you, Jin-san.” Her hands trembled slightly. Her body was trained, but she was not used to the feeling of a blade in her hands. She wouldn’t be a threat at all if it had been anything but that specific demonic sword. “I began to wonder if maybe Sahiro-san was a bad person. My grandfather may have loved her, but I never met her myself. You didn’t seem like someone who would do horrible things for no reason.”
Her words were more painful than any blade. She, too, didn’t want to believe in the truth she was shown.
“I’m a demon,” Jinya told her. “Doesn’t that tell you enough about me?”
“Maybe it does… Just hearing things secondhand from my grandfather didn’t convince me, but now I understand.” She looked close to tears, a resigned smile on her face. “I saw what you did to Nanao-san.”
His heart felt like it had been pierced. “You…were there?”
“Yes. I didn’t hear what you talked about, but I saw you wrap your hand around her neck and what happened afterward.”
“I…see.”
Then this was no longer simply her grandfather’s vengeance; it was her own as well.
“Why did you do it, Jin-san? Wasn’t Nanao-san your niece?”
“I have no excuses to make. All I can say is that it was necessary,” he replied emotionlessly. A heavy silence fell between them.
Choosing to play the villain might have been foolish of him. Aoba was a smart girl, and they could still end things peacefully if they talked it out. But no matter what he said, it wouldn’t change the fact that he had robbed her of someone dear. Not a hundred excuses could overturn that.
“I’m a bit disappointed, but…relieved.” The tremble in her hands stopped, and her hesitation disappeared. He could tell from the way the atmosphere shifted. “I’ve wavered all this time over whether I could slay you to avenge my grandfather, but now I don’t even have to think about that.”
His vertigo grew fiercer, but he couldn’t go down without a fight. He forced his heavy arm into action and drew blood from his right palm. Using the trickle of blood, he formed a blade with Blood Blade.
Aoba stared at him and his red blade without a hint of fear in her eyes.
“It’s already clear how this will end. Do you still insist on fighting?” he asked.
“Of course. Even if I have no chance of winning, I must fight for the sake of the will I’ve inherited.”
Ordinarily, there would have been no way to bridge the gap between them. Jinya eclipsed Aoba in skill, and she couldn’t even begin to fathom his strength. She understood that fact well but would not back down now.
The room was small. The distance between them was already short enough for them to hear each other’s breathing. The old relationship of roommates could no longer be found. In its place was a demon and a spirit hunter, about to battle like in olden times.
For a brief instant, an emotion filled her eyes—not grief or sadness, but a kindness that did not fit the scene. This too was drowned out by the sound of rain, and after a breath, the distance between them closed to zero.
Jinya didn’t see this as a clash of martial arts, but a clash of wills. After making long journeys to get to this point, they would both show the extent of their emotions here and bring about the end they sought. In other words, this had never been a battle of strength.
“What a farce…”
A blade dropped to the floor. He’d known it would end this way from the start. It was obvious, and yet he entertained her anyway. Hence, it could only be called a farce.
“Why…?” Her voice trembled. She looked at him in disbelief.
Jinya’s red blade hit the floor with a thud, then turned back into blood, unable to maintain its shape.
Aoba was an amateur when it came to fighting. Her gait, her center of gravity, her blade-wielding, her footwork—Jinya was superior in every regard. Yet her blade had slipped past the wicked demon’s own and pierced his body.
“I guess I lost…” There was a time when becoming stronger was everything to him. He had believed with all his heart that strength would let him wield his blade without wavering. But he had gained things dear to him since then, and before he knew it, he could no longer fight without hesitation like he had in the past. His impurity made his blade dull. He had become weak. He had swung down his blade at Aoba but stopped just short of cutting her.
She had freed herself from the indecision that he was full of to the end. Their battle was a foregone conclusion.
“Gah…” He dropped to a knee, then sat down. He could have typically borne a wound like this, but his body was sapped of strength; he couldn’t use his abilities, or even lift a finger for that matter. This was the power of the demonic sword of Demon Wail. He could no longer resist, only wait to be sealed within its blade.
“Jin-san…why?” She froze and looked down at him. She had not expected this outcome. She had challenged him to carry out her will, fully expecting to die. She exhaled shallowly and said without emotion, “No, the ‘why’ doesn’t matter. We fought as spirit hunter and demon, and I just so happened to win. That’s all there is to it, isn’t there?”
“Yeah, you got me. That’s all.”
“Very well, then. I have claimed revenge for Motoki Soushi. Nothing more needs to be said.”
No matter what their intentions that was what mattered at the end of it all. Though she seemed to have some misgivings, she swallowed them back.
Jinya looked down and checked his body. His life was in no danger, but the wicked Demon Eater would be sealed.
“Hey, Aoba. Can I ask you one thing?” he asked. He didn’t have much time left. Before his consciousness faded, he wanted to ask a question he’d carried for a while now.
“Sure,” she said after a pause. “If it’s something I can answer.”
“On that rainy night when I first arrived here, did you help me because you knew who I was?”
He wanted to know if she approached him knowing he was the Demon Eater, or if she did so out of the kindness of her heart. Had she lived with him knowing he was her sworn enemy? How real was the kindness she had shown him?
It was a pointless, desperate question. Their strange cohabitation had been a lie from start to finish. But at the end of it all, he wanted to know if any part of what they had was genuine.
“Ah ha ha. You’re really something, aren’t you?” she said, smiling through tears. “What kind of girl calls out to a strange man in the rain? Of course that was part of my plan.”
Ah. I see, he thought. His consciousness faded there.
The sound of rain continued to echo within the dark room. Alone, she looked down hollow-eyed at the sword that had fallen to the floor. The strange, stern-faced man who was oddly good at household chores was nowhere to be seen.
She had achieved her greatest wish by her own hands, yet she felt no joy, only a sense that she had been left behind.
“It was all a lie from the start. I knew who you were right away. That much should’ve been obvious.” She spoke to no one, her voice soft and gentle. “But you saw right through me and still played along, sharing all kinds of stories with me. The fact that I liked you was not a lie.”
The one truth she spoke, here at the end of it all, was heard by no one. But she didn’t mind that. She picked up her sword and returned it to its scabbard. It felt heavier than before, but it could just as easily have been her imagination.
And so, with no lingering regrets left, she departed the Dove District.
A promise to meet was left unfulfilled, and the red-light district that shouldn’t have existed finally reached its proper end. Dreams could be no more than dreams, doomed to be forgotten by all once morning came.