The next day began in silence. Not the rowdy, chaotic silence that usually blanketed Ishiyama after a night of delinquent fights, but the kind of hush that lingers in the corners of a room, heavy with things unsaid.
Oga Tatsumi stirred awake first, groggy, his back sore from the couch he'd passed out on. Baby Beel usually woke him up at dawn with his ridiculous wails, the kind of cries that rattled the windows and made the neighbors scream. But this morning, the house was unusually quiet. Too quiet.
His eyes darted around, and then he froze.
On the other side of the room, Kogen was sitting upright, the morning light spilling across his pale face like painted porcelain. He had Beel tucked against his chest, one arm draped around the child with an ease that felt almost... practiced. The baby wasn't crying. In fact, Beel looked unusually calm, nestled under Kogen's chin, tiny fists clutching at the man's coat as though letting go wasn't an option.
For once, the demon brat wasn't screaming or kicking. He was breathing softly, sleeping in the cradle of someone else's heartbeat.
Oga rubbed his temple, unsettled by the sight. "...Oi."
Kogen looked up, his expression unreadable. "Good morning, darling. You look like you fought the mattress and lost."
"Shut it," Oga muttered automatically, but his voice lacked its usual bite. His gaze lingered on Beel's small, desperate grip. Something was off.
Beel usually latched onto him like some weird parasite. It was Oga's chest, Oga's head, Oga's back that the kid used as his personal playground. Yet now, Beel refused to release Kogen. Even in sleep, his fingers dug into Kogen's clothes, his little brow creased as if letting go meant disaster.
"...What the hell's up with him?" Oga finally asked.
Kogen's lips curved in a small, sad smile. "He saw what you saw last night. And unlike you, little Beel doesn't have the gift of rationalizing fear away. He's too young. All he knows is that I disappeared into blood and came back half-broken. For him, that's enough to cling like his life depends on it."
Oga remembered it then—the jungle, the monster, Kogen's body soaked in blood as if he'd crawled straight out of hell. The memory made his stomach tighten.
"Tch. The brat cried like the world was ending..." Oga muttered, though softer than before.
Kogen glanced down at Beel. His hand moved slowly, brushing over the baby's hair, a gesture so natural that it startled Oga more than the fight itself had. "Of course he did. For him, I'm still... his mother."
The word hung heavy in the air.
Oga didn't respond right away. It wasn't just the word—it was the way Kogen said it. Without mockery. Without his usual flamboyant dramatics. Just quiet fact.
And Beel believed it.
Breakfast came and went awkwardly. Oga shoved food in his mouth while glaring at the table, trying not to glance at Kogen across from him, holding Beel with the kind of patience no one would've ever expected. Kogen fed the baby without complaint, even coaxing him to eat with a soft, almost lullaby-like hum that stirred something unpleasant in Oga's chest.
It wasn't that he minded Beel being fed. It was that Kogen looked too natural doing it. Like he'd done it a thousand times before.
"...You're freakin' creepy, you know that?" Oga muttered finally, unable to stand the silence.
Kogen arched a brow. "Because I can hold a baby without treating him like a rugby ball? Darling, you should be thanking me. If not, poor Beel might think his father is some barbarian incapable of gentleness."
"Oi, who the hell are you calling barbarian?!" Oga barked, slamming his chopsticks down.
Beel stirred in Kogen's arms, making a soft whimper. Immediately, Kogen's hand shifted, gently rocking him back and forth. The whimper ceased, Beel's face nestling back into his chest.
Oga froze again.
It wasn't just creepy. It was like Beel trusted him more.
The rest of the morning passed with that same oppressive quiet. Beel refused to be put down, his tiny fists always finding their way into Kogen's coat, his head burrowed stubbornly against his shoulder. Even when Oga tried to take him, Beel squirmed and began to cry, reaching his arms back toward Kogen with raw desperation.
Oga swore under his breath. "Brat, you seriously think I'm second place now, huh? That's what this is?"
Kogen chuckled low. "Jealousy doesn't suit you, darling."
"I'm not jealous!" Oga snapped, maybe a little too fast.
Kogen didn't argue. He didn't need to. The smug tilt of his lips said it all. But behind the amusement, Oga saw something else in his eyes—an undercurrent of weariness, a shadow that hadn't been there before last night or it was there and he just noticed it now.
He tried to ignore it. Tried to act like it was just the usual smug bastard routine. But every time he caught sight of Beel's tiny hands gripping that coat like a lifeline, Oga's chest tightened in ways he didn't have words for.
By noon, Beel had finally fallen into a deeper sleep, drooling a little onto Kogen's shirt. Kogen didn't even flinch at the mess. Instead, he adjusted his parasol under one arm, shifted the baby carefully, and stood.
"I think our little prince needs fresh air," Kogen said softly. "A stroll, perhaps? Unless you'd rather stay here sulking like a teenager denied his favorite toy."
"Shut it. I'm coming."
Oga stood, shoving his hands into his pockets. He didn't know why he said it, but the thought of letting Kogen walk off with Beel again—just the two of them—set his nerves on edge.
So the three of them stepped out into the afternoon sun.
The city was loud as always—cars honking, students yelling, the occasional thug trying to pick a fight—but Oga felt like the noise barely reached them. Kogen walked ahead, carrying Beel like he was something fragile, the demon brat's head tucked safely under his chin. Oga followed half a step behind, scowling at nothing in particular, every so often glancing at the way Kogen's hand absently stroked the baby's back, soothing him even in sleep.
For the first time, Oga realized something.
This wasn't just about last night.
Beel was scared, yeah. But Oga was too.
Not of monsters. Not of gods or demons. But of the idea that one night, Kogen might slip away again, and this time not come back.
The thought made him grind his teeth, fists shoved deeper into his pockets as they walked on in silence.