The world had grown too quiet.
No tiny footsteps.
No sleepy giggles.
No soft voice calling out in the dark: "Papa?"
Only the wind now — brushing over stone and leaves, stirring nothing but his own thoughts.
Demon stood at the edge of the forest clearing, where moonlight touched the broken fence of the old temple house. From here, he could still see the silhouette of her — Yuhi — moving through the rooms inside, slow and tired.
But the child… was gone.
Returned to his bloodline.
To where he belonged.
A lie, he thought bitterly. The boy had belonged here.
With her.
With him.
He leaned against the tree, head tilted back, eyes closed. He didn't need to breathe — not really — but the air felt heavier without the boy's laughter echoing through it.
"You always leave," he had once told her.
But this time, she had stayed.
It was he who had been left behind.
No… not left.
Just not needed. Not now.
She'll be okay on her own. For now.
His fingers grazed the edge of the locket in his pocket — the one she gave him long ago, in a moment her current self wouldn't even remember. It still glowed faintly when she was near. Like a heartbeat locked in stone.
He pulled it out. Held it in the moonlight.
"I'll protect you both," he had whispered in the dream.
"Even if you don't want me to."
And he meant it.
Even now.
Even standing outside the life he once touched, he would keep watch.
Like a star too far from the sky to be seen —
But still burning.
She had cried when she handed the child over.
Not in front of anyone, of course.
Only later. Alone.
He had seen it.
He had been there — in the trees, in the shadows, just outside the window.
It was the clan's decision.
The baby belonged to his demon parents.
They had protested — how could a human raise a child like that?
Even if she cared.
Even if she loved him.
Even if she had risked her life to protect him.
Yuhi was still human.
Still cursed.
When little Arav was taken from her arms, his tiny body shook. He began to cry — loud, deep, with a terror that only souls could understand.
And his demon parents did nothing.
They didn't even flinch.
Yuhi's heart broke into pieces.
Even those who once doubted her — even the clan leader who called her his little sister — could do nothing. Only watch.
Inside the house, she clutched the child's toy in her hands. The one he used to sleep with. The one still warm from his last nap.
Demon watched her.
He nearly stepped forward.
Almost.
Almost.
But then she looked toward the window, eyes unfocused, and whispered:
"I miss him... my little boy."
And Demon knew — it wasn't him she missed.
It was Arav.
The child who had become their heart.
A twig snapped behind him.
He didn't turn.
"You can come out," he said softly. "I felt you arrive an hour ago."
A shadow shifted — and a fox-faced spirit with glowing eyes stepped out from between the trees.
"You still haunt her like a lover who never died," the spirit murmured. "Why do you stay, Demon?"
Demon didn't look away from the house.
He could see her now — lighting a candle, brushing dust from the corner of the room the boy once played in.
"…Because I never stopped loving her," he said.
"Even when she forgets you?"
"Especially then."
The fox tilted its head. "You could have taken her. Long ago."
Demon finally turned.
"And steal her peace? Her choice?" His eyes darkened. "That's what cowards do. I'd rather be forgotten than become her regret."
The spirit fell silent.
The wind stirred through the trees — cool, sharp.
"You'll never be whole again, you know," the spirit whispered. "Not without them."
Demon looked back toward the house.
Yuhi stood still, her hands pressed against the windowpane, eyes searching the dark.
For what, he didn't know.
Maybe not for him.
But maybe — just maybe — she still felt his fire in the wind.
"…I already wasn't whole," he said. "Long before I met them."
Later that night, under shifting stars, he sat silently in the same tree he once guarded every night.
The bark still bore faint claw marks from where the boy used to climb.
He pressed his hand against it.
"Sleep well, my little one," he murmured.
"And you, Yuhi… dream of me. Just once. I'll be waiting."
And in the quiet room of the old temple house…
A girl with tear-stained cheeks curled up beside a forgotten toy and closed her eyes.
"I miss you two," she whispered.