The jungle was silent again. Too silent. The kind of silence that follows slaughter, when even the wind seems to hold its breath. The moonlight painted silver across the ground, where blood still glistened thick in the soil, the metallic tang of iron clinging to the air.
Oga didn't move. His fists hung tight at his sides, nails digging into skin. He wasn't the type to be rattled by gore or by violence—he had caused plenty of both. But what he'd just seen wasn't a fight. It wasn't survival. It was something else entirely. Something... other.
Kogen stood at the center of it all, the image burned into Oga's eyes: drenched in blood, hair plastered to his face, his twin blades folded once more into the mockery of a parasol. His chest rose and fell slowly, but his gaze was hollow, detached.
It was the same look Oga had seen in men who'd given up. The look of someone who had no reason left to live... but kept walking anyway.
Beel whimpered on his back, the sound breaking the oppressive stillness. Then the baby began to cry—not the sharp, spoiled wails Oga was used to, but deep, rattling sobs that shuddered through his tiny body. He was reaching, squirming, tiny hands outstretched toward Kogen.
Oga blinked, startled. "Oi, what the hell are you—"
But he stopped.
Because the brat wasn't just crying. His face was twisted with a fear Oga had never seen before. Not when demons threatened him, not even when lightning split the sky. This was different. Beel was terrified—not of the monster, but of Kogen.
Or rather, of losing him.
The realization hit Oga like a punch in the gut.
Kogen turned then, his dead eyes falling on them. His lips curled into something that tried to pass as a smile, but didn't reach his face. "Ah. So you followed, darling. How unlike you. You shouldn't be here, darling,"
Oga scowled automatically, his defenses snapping up. "Don't call me that, bastard. What the hell was that thing?!"
Instead of answering directly, Kogen crouched. His bloodstained hands reached forward, surprisingly gentle as he took Beel from Oga's back. The baby clung to him instantly, pressing his wet face into Kogen's chest, hiccupping sobs quieting as those pale fingers stroked his hair.
The contrast was jarring. The same hands that had butchered a monster without hesitation now rocked the child like the most fragile treasure in existence.
Kogen's voice was soft, lulling. "There, there. I'm not going anywhere. Not yet."
Not yet.
Oga caught the words, his frown deepening. "The hell do you mean by that? What's going on here"
For a moment, Kogen didn't answer. His eyes lifted toward the moon, silver reflecting silver, his expression unreadable. Finally, he spoke—calm, measured, like he was reciting something older than the trees around them.
"This world exists because of two. Life... and Death. Twin gods, bound together. They created the balance, the cycle. For every birth, a death. For every bloom, decay. Without both, the world would collapse."
Oga shifted, unease twisting in his stomach. He wasn't one for stories, especially ones that sounded like religion. But something in Kogen's tone made him listen.
"But balance is fragile," Kogen continued, voice almost detached, like he wasn't speaking for Oga but simply remembering. "Another god rose. Not of this universe. A stranger. It wanted dominion. It wanted war. So it waged one. Life and Death stood together and pushed it back... but wars like that never end cleanly. The enemy was suppressed, not destroyed. And so... their remnants strike. Monsters slip through. Soldiers of another cosmos. And I..."
He paused, lowering his gaze to Beel, who was staring up at him now with red, tear-swollen eyes. "...I cannot allow mortals to suffer for gods' wars. It is my duty."
The jungle air grew heavier, suffocating in the weight of his words.
Oga's fists clenched tighter. "So what, you're saying you're—what? Death?"
Kogen smiled faintly, humorless. "Death. Demon. God. Call it what you like. I am both. I am neither. What matters is balance."
The words hit like stones dropped in water, rippling through Oga's mind. He wanted to laugh it off, wanted to call it bullshit, but the blood staining the ground and the empty look in Kogen's eyes told him it was no lie.
"...Tch." Oga spat to the side, trying to ground himself. "You're telling me you sneak out in the middle of the night to fight... that? While I'm stuck here dealing with the brat crying his lungs out?!"
Kogen tilted his head, almost amused, though his eyes remained hollow. "Would you prefer I let the world burn, darling?"
"Don't twist my words!" Oga barked.
Beel suddenly squirmed in Kogen's arms, crying again, reaching up as if terrified Kogen would vanish into smoke at any second. His small fingers clutched desperately at Kogen's bloodied shirt.
Kogen froze. Then, slowly, his features softened into something almost human. He adjusted his hold, cradling Beel closer, rocking him with a mother's instinct. His voice dropped, whisper-quiet.
"I told you, little one. I'm not gone. I'm here."
The baby's sobs quieted into hiccups, his face pressing deeper into Kogen's chest, clinging with the tenacity only a child could muster.
Oga swallowed hard. Watching it made something coil uncomfortably in his chest. For all the teasing, for all the macabre wit and the damn "darling" nonsense, Kogen looked... right like that. Like Beel belonged in his arms.
And that scared Oga more than the monster had.
Because some part of him, deep down, shared the brat's fear. That one day, Kogen would just... vanish. Fade away, like the corpses he banished into the void. That irritating bastard who always smirked at him, always teased, always lingered too close... would simply be gone.
"...Tch." Oga scratched the back of his head, looking away sharply. "Whatever. Do what you want. Just don't sneak off and make the brat cry like that again."
Kogen's lips curved faintly, a ghost of his usual grin. "No promises, darling. The war between gods doesn't end just because I wish it to. But for tonight..." His voice gentled, almost tender as he looked down at Beel. "...let him sleep."
And in the blood-soaked jungle, with the corpses already swallowed by hellfire, Kogen stood cradling the infant like the most fragile treasure in the universe, his melancholy smile lit by the cold light of the moon.
Oga turned his head slightly, fists tight, uneasy in a way he couldn't shake. Because for the first time in his life, he wasn't sure who scared him more: the monsters... or the man standing before him.
And maybe, just maybe, it was the same fear clawing in his gut that Beel had shown so openly—fear that one day, Kogen would vanish like a shadow, leaving only silence behind.