The rain of Daten City turned The Hive into a neon cage. Big Bull and his men lay sprawled on the floor. Devyus and his sisters hadn't needed anything beyond physical strength.
An uncomfortable silence filled the space where shouting and music had once echoed. The twin sisters flanked Devyus, their expressions carved in disapproval. Their onii-sama had violated his own cardinal rule: never draw attention.
But Devyus paid them no mind. His amethyst eyes were fixed on her.
The echo of the dancer's laughter faded, leaving a charged stillness between them, broken only by the distant hum of the club. The noise of the bar became a muffled drone behind the walls.
"So, Miss Pinky…" Devyus began, attempting to recover some of his usual composure. But even to his own ears, the words sounded forced.
"Himika, the name is Himika Toshi" she corrected, stepping completely off the stage so they stood at the same level. Her name closed the distance between them. "'Pinky' is just a joke the manager came up with. Said my hair and almost-pink skin would be a 'great marketing hook for the place'." She grimaced—but there was a tired acceptance in her tone.
Devyus tried to keep the conversation going, but she gave him her back, counting the money she had earned. He could see what she was doing, but he wasn't looking at the bills. He was listening to what her body and heart were saying.
"That mask you wear…" Devyus murmured, lifting his hand slowly, deliberately. "The tough-girl act. The unbothered one… it's heavy, isn't it?"
Himika paused mid-count. His words struck something she thought she had buried years ago. She tucked the cash into her neckline and turned toward him, the stranger who had somehow slipped past her defenses.
"Alright, stranger. You have my attention. But no tricks, okay?" she said, crossing her arms, fully guarded. "What exactly are you trying to figure out?"
Devyus had spoken to thousands of women across millennia, yet none had left him so disarmed. His mind—usually a cyclone of strategy, wit and cynicism—was blank.
The ex-lord didn't let her false coldness deter him. He stepped closer. Then another step. Moving like one would toward a frightened creature.
Himika didn't step back. She held her posture—but something new sparked in her eyes, paralyzed by something she saw in his eyes.
Something not human.
"So… are you pink everywhere?" the incubus finally managed to say—sounding instantly, humiliatingly adolescent the moment it left his mouth.
Himika stared at him for a second—then burst into genuine, bubbling laughter.
"Oh god, you're an idiot!" she laughed, playfully punching his chest.
And as her arm lifted, he saw something in her head.
Not just her odango hairstyle. Something hidden beneath.
Between the strands of pink, near her scalp—two tiny yellow nubs, soft, almost like small buttons—carefully concealed by her hair.
"I like your… accessories," Devyus said carefully, relieved his comment didn't land poorly. His voice softened.
Without thinking—and with a gentleness that starkly contrasted the raw strength he had shown minutes earlier—he reached out and brushed one of them.
The reaction was immediate. Electric.
A tremor shook her body.
A soft, involuntary sound echoed from her lips—a raw, instinctive whimper.
The kind of sound that made the air grow thick.
Devyus jerked his hand back like he had touched a live flame.
Heat shot up his face and—this time—a thin line of blood slid from his nose.
"I—I'm sorry, I—"
Himika recovered quickly, her face flushing beneath her natural violet tone. Her expression snapped into something sharp and defensive. She grabbed his hand and pulled him toward one of the dancer rooms.
A small space.
Red light.
Just a couch and a mirror.
"Don't say anything," she warned, adjusting her hair to completely cover the small horns. Her voice was a harsh whisper. "It's… complicated. These things cause nothing but trouble." She glanced toward the main door, as if afraid someone had seen. "You don't know what it's like to be seen as a… a…"
"Monster?" Devyus finished for her—his voice now utterly flat, all awkwardness gone.
She recoiled inward, hugging herself.
The tough Pinky façade shattered—leaving a young woman, afraid and desperately alone.
For the first time in a very long time, her eyes filled with tears she refused to let fall.
A mix of rage, hurt, and an abyssal loneliness.
She turned sharply, needing to escape—needing to run from him, from this moment, from what he saw.
She reached for the curtain-door—
But a hand wrapped her wrist.
The grip wasn't strong.
But it was unbreakable.
She turned—ready to scream, to curse—but the words died.
The face she saw wasn't the handsome, slightly awkward man from before.
Nor the imperturbable fighter who had thrown giants like rag dolls.
It was a face shaped by an ancient, bottomless understanding.
She knew that look.
She saw it in the mirror every day.
"I am a monster," she whispered—
And the tears finally fell.
Devyus watched her—and in his amethyst eyes, she saw the weight of millennia of the same loneliness.
He made a decision.
He broke his own most sacred rule.
There was no burst of demonic power. No explosion of aura.
Only a physical shift.
His human skin paled, his body grew taller, broader, the crimson hue beneath showing even under the red light. His purple hair lengthened slightly.
And two elegant red horns emerged from his forehead—completely unlike hers.
"Believe me," Devyus said, his voice now deeper, resonant, still holding her wrist as her resistance slowly dissolved, "I know."
Himika gasped, covering her mouth. Tears widened her eyes—not in fear—
—but in recognition.
The demonic form faded. Devyus returned to his tall, purple-haired human disguise.
His breathing was unsteady—not from effort—
but from vulnerability.
"See?" he murmured, voice rough again. "You're not alone."
Himika trembled head to toe. The tears still fell—but now for a different reason.
Not shame.
Relief.
The Duke gently brushed aside her bangs—and for the first time, truly saw her eyes. Not just their feline gold, but the resilience burning inside them—the same loneliness he carried.
Overwhelmed, she collapsed into his arms.
In the suffocating quiet of the storeroom, surrounded by boxes and the distant thrum of music.
Two monsters recognized each other.
Not as threats.
But as mirrors.
And in that recognition, the ex-lord's carefully built anonymity began to fracture— replaced by a connection he had not planned for, and could not control.
"If you've reached this far… thank you for walking through Devyus's silence."
"Your thoughts matter — even one word helps me keep building this world."
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