AN: Quick warning. This chapter is heavily NSFW for more than one reason. Please read with an open mind. This is the reason why this story is rated-M to begin with. If you have no problem reading sexual content and gory violence then please proceed. Otherwise, well, I don't know what to say to you. Secondly, there will be some updates on my profile regarding this story so please go to my profile page and check it out.

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Exitus: Chapter 3

Temptations

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The moon was like a sharp sickle in the night sky, wounding the darkness and making it bleed with ephemeral light. It was still as black as sin outside though and Nico was certain that humans have huddled beneath their artificial lights and lamps, too proud to shiver and admit that they remained afraid of the night's shroud. Soon, the moon would be completely gone, shadowed and blocked by the sky itself, leaving the world in complete and unforgiving darkness. Or at least, that was how it was before. Now, humans flooded the night with their own stars and moons, and advertised to the whole world that they have conquered the darkness. They could not be more wrong. Even now, the stuff of the nightmares was prowling, and as much as Nico hated to admit it, the vampire queen was beginning to make her anxious as well.

"Nicocchi," the Ebon Witch moaned against her ear, "What's the matter?"

Dark ruby eyes looked down upon the woman beneath her, "Nothing."

"Wrong answer," Nozomi shifted and caught her lips in a sweet, tantalizing kiss. "Whenever you say nothing, it means something is on your mind. What could possibly take your attention when you're here with me in bed, hmm?"

Why indeed? Entangled in her lover's limbs and the bed's many purple sheets, Nico should have been engrossed in this sacred sensual ritual between a werecat and her Anchor, yet when her eyes wandered towards the open door leading to their room's balcony, the moon elicited within her a foreboding feeling. Her instincts knew that danger lurked in every shadow now, and that had somehow robbed her of her desires, especially the fact that had Nozomi not gone and picked up Rin from the hospital, she might have lost her only treasure.

"Don't worry about it," Nico returned Nozomi's kiss to take away her worries, and she felt revitalized when she sensed some of the witch's magic enter her mouth. The Ebon Witch's mana was akin to a finely aged wine; dark and purple, smooth and warm with an addictive aftertaste that melded together sweetness and bitterness perfectly. Hungrily, the werecat plundered her Anchor's lips, and when the witch opened her mouth fully for her, she took full advantage and fed ravenously upon the offered magic. Nozomi moaned deeply and Nico savored the pleasant vibrations, snaking an arm under the former's lower back to press her firmly against her body.

"Mmmm… close the door if it bothers you, Nicocchi," the witch sighed sultrily after her lover ducked down to plant open-mouthed kisses on her neck. She then traced playful fingertips up the latter's spine and hooked a leg over her waist in an awkward yet provocatively physical embrace. "I feel it too."

Loving the feeling of Nozomi's soft thigh around her, Nico caressed it with her palm, passionately leaving red lines upon the creamy white skin with her nails before sensuously coiling her white-tipped tail around it to keep it there. "It's fine," she growled against her Anchor's collarbones, "I refuse to fear her." She shuddered minutely when the Ebon Witch cupped one of her small breasts, "It is her creations that I find maddening. They're steadily growing in numbers, and none of them can be called a true vampire, just mindless bloodsuckers. And how the hell did she find Rin?"

"You have been spending a lot of time outside lately. But I don't think it's Rin-chan that the queen was after that day, only the girl…" Nozomi bit her lower lip to inhibit a gasp when Nico took a nipple into her mouth. The werecat eagerly drew from it, covering the aroused bulb with her rough tongue and sucking until the witch writhed beneath her. After glancing lustfully at her Anchor's face, she closed her eyes to savor the flesh between her teeth and the fingernails that scraped her scalp. "N-Nico… n-not so hard, mmmnn!" She grabbed the Ebon Witch's other breast and kneaded it roughly, stealing from Nozomi her inhibitions and her will to remain quiet and covert about their ritual coitus.

Already, Nico could smell the provocative scent of her lover's sex beckoning to her.

She gave her a moment's pause in order to kiss her lovingly over the heart.

"I'm always away because I need to keep those bloodsuckers away from home. But why is that vampire so interested in an uninteresting girl? She's already being watched by that slant-eyed one."

"I…I'm not sure either, but you must take care not to be discovered, Nicocchi." Nozomi's breathing was heavy now and she stroked her hair pleasantly, evoking a deep and content purr from her throat.

"I just monitor them." The werecat nipped the underside of her Anchor's bosom before crawling down, her mouth leaving adoring kisses and goosebumps in its wake. When she looked up, she saw the witch biting on a finger with anticipation. "The other vampires are doing all the work for me. Some of them aren't too excited about being discovered by humans either."

"Yet they aren't being discreet about it. The news runs rampant with murder reports and—ahn~!" Securing Nozomi's knees was the only thing Nico could do to prevent her from reflexively shutting them close when she dragged one long languid lick upon her damp slit. Even through the cloth of her underwear, the werecat could taste her essence and the flavor left her salivating. Aroused, Nico covered the wetness with her mouth, rasping her tongue over the thin membrane of her lover's silken garment until Nozomi seized her by the hair. "Don't tease," the Ebon Witch chastised her breathlessly.

"Impatient woman," Nico grumped and then shifted so that she could hook her fingers around the underwear's garter, "Raise your hips then."

Nozomi laughed at that. "You are so romantic, Nicocchi."

She smirked, "If you wanted romantic, you could have picked someone else to be your mate and kept me as your humble familiar." With one deft pull, she had freed her lover from her remaining clothes and threw the soiled panties onto the floor to be forgotten until morning. She then braced Nozomi's legs against her shoulders before the latter had the chance to lower them and worked her way down, kissing and nipping the witch's calf and inner thighs. She relished her lover's desires seasoned perfectly with the salt from her sweat. Never once did she break eye contact.

Nozomi licked her parched lips, her eager emerald eyes matching her familiar's intensity. "You're right," she inhaled sharply when Nico had breathed so near her core. "Go on then. Feed. I'm ready for you."

The werecat fervently obliged and buried her face between her lover's thighs until the latter arched her back in great pleasure. Nozomi's grip on her hair tightened, further fueling her ardor. Nico kissed her Anchor's drooling nether lips and teased her entrance with an expert tongue before taking the tiny bundle of nerves just above it in her mouth. The Ebon Witch's loud moans inevitably evolved into lustful vocalizations when she entered her with her fingers, opening a direct connection between their magic wells. Though she remained focused on giving pleasure, Nico felt Nozomi's mana flow into her, pure and willingly given, tasting sweeter than honeyed wine.

Beneath them, a sacred pentacle bearing the Ebon Witch's seal etched itself in faint purple light.

Soon, Nico felt wetness trickling down her wrist as she continued to pump in and out. Nozomi was certainly clamping down on her, so close to edge. She curled her fingers within her and sent a bolt of pleasure powerful enough to make the mighty Ebon Witch clutch the sheets and groan throatily. "Haa… haa…N-Nico, mmngh!" The witch's breasts heaved due to amorous pants, and before long Nozomi had to bite down on her own knuckles to retain control of her senses.

That would not do. So, Nico extracted herself and crawled over to remove the offending hand from her lover's mouth. "Don't," she whispered, "I want to hear you as much as I can feel you. I want to have it all." She kissed her fully and shared the taste of their passions. When Nozomi returned it wholeheartedly, Nico entered her again, swallowing her moans as readily as she fed on her energy and brought her over the edge.

The werecat lapped at the sweat dribbling down her lover's neck after the witch was satiated. She was also full now, brimming with magic that she felt as energized as she did during full moon. She would not need to hunt for meat for a few days. Beneath her, Nozomi was trying to catch her breath, though the tension from her climax had yet to leave her. Nico could still feel the minute trembles of her flesh.

"You really can be evil at times," the Ebon Witch sighed tiredly, shifting a bit once the werecat had extracted her slick fingers. "And you abuse me too much, Nicocchi."

"Abuse? What are you talking about?"

"You took too much again," Nozomi pouted childishly, though she eventually made herself comfortable amongst the sheets and kept Nico nestled between her legs. "Don't you know how much sleep it takes to replenish?"

The werecat scowled, "I see no difference between your normal sleeping patterns and this."

"Now you're just being mean."

"Of course I am."

"Mou… I only sleep so much because you always overeat." Though she complained, Nozomi still kissed her and ran her fingers through the werecat's thick dark mane. Nico closed her eyes and savored it, loving the feeling of her lover's soft hands gliding down the lines of her body. The witch's touch was as gentle as a feather, tickling and enticing her, yet the fondness and love they represented were as profound as any soul-stealing kisses they might have shared in the past.

But that did not mean that Nozomi lacked mischief.

It was the exact opposite.

"Oi…" Nico growled when the Ebon Witch's hand slipped between her legs, where fingers parted her nether lips and drew lazy circles around her own sensitive bud. She bit the inside of her cheek to prevent any embarrassing noises from escaping her lips, though her hips instinctively jerked when Nozomi touched a particularly receptive spot.

"Sex takes two, ne? The ritual is done, but it wouldn't be right if I left you without release too, Nicocchi. You're also so wet down here."

"Cheh, I'm fine. There are other things I have to do." She trembled pleasantly when Nozomi stroked her whole length, invading her slick folds and gently pinching her bundle of nerves. A purring hum vibrated in her throat when her lover kissed her and she felt the other woman smile against her skin. Alarmed, Nico shied away and glared at the eccentric witch, "Just what are you doing?"

Nozomi grinned, "Punishing you for overindulging of course. By taking so much of my magic, I can mold and shape you in any way I want. That includes your libido, Nicocchi."

The werecat growled even louder but the aggression gradually melted away, for the Ebon Witch had already ensnared her with a licentious spell. Nozomi's hand was still at the junction of her thighs, stroking more fervently as the moments went by until Nico's head swam in pleasure as she stiffened under her lover's ministrations.

"Come to me, Nico," she heard her lover's tender voice beyond the quagmire of need she had found herself in and obeyed. She leaned down and took Nozomi's mouth roughly, letting tongue and teeth battle each other for dominance. Thirsty for more, Nico shifted even closer to her beloved until they were almost as one. She ground herself against Nozomi's womanhood, creating friction so blindingly good that she could no longer inhibit a moan.

"Nozomi…" purred Nico as the Ebon Witch guided her inside once again.

"Mmmnnn. Together this time. Forget everything else. Just think of me."

Fully sheathed now, she moved with instinct, though her intentions were now less ravenous and more loving. Her gestures were tender, languid, and deliberate as they mutually pleasured each other. Their bodies melded together as lovers tended to do, and soon, even their voices chorused their fervor.

Outside, the sharp, sickle moon languished, momentarily forgotten.

Honoka did not attack.

Umi stood vigil a few blocks away from the hospital to serve as a flimsy barrier between the Progenitor and the helpless human patients in the building's many wards. She kept contact with Maki all throughout the night, doing her best to reassure the younger vampire that the situation was under control. Yet in spite of all the hours waiting in bated breaths and frayed nerves, the Progenitor did not return like they expected she would. It was almost sunrise by the time Umi left, pursued by the lethal rays that came with the sun's awakening, but the night that passed by had been quiet. According to Maki, the Progenitor exited the hospital with her companion late in the evening, without any fuss or threats. Honoka did not even look for her again after she ran away from the room. And when the physician questioned Koizumi Hanayo about the experience, the latter only appeared puzzled and miraculously unharmed. So maybe, just maybe, their creator no longer remembered Maki at all like how the doctor believed.

However, Umi highly doubted it.

The Progenitor could read the thoughts of her children, passively or forcibly. From Maki's behavior on the phone, Umi was certain that she had blown her cover instantly.

"She will return," the physician insisted angrily when they met up on the hospital rooftop before sunrise.

"She will." There was no use lying. Honoka would return eventually. It was not the question of "if" anymore, but "when".

Maki looked bedraggled as if she had undergone an especially complex and stressful surgical procedure. Her hair was in disarray and she smoked cigarettes in chains to relieve anxiety. Umi had not seen her smoke for decades but she could not fault her. Maki had carved herself a life among humans after many years of struggling to find a niche, but now Honoka's presence threatened all she had strived for.

"Do you think she knows about Hanayo?"

"Without a doubt."

The redhead cursed under her breath and fidgeted by the rooftop railing. She was a nervous wreck, a bundle of fear and trepidation. During the night, Maki sobered up to the fact that Honoka still posed a threat to her secluded life and to the person she cherished. Maki's voice grew small as she spoke, "Hanayo is sick. She's a poor choice for a meal."

"Yet she is the perfect toy to play with knowing how deeply you care about her." The elder of the two crossed her arms, ever objective and brutally frank. "Honoka will not forget that."

"Then I should leave."

She shook her head sullenly. "It is too late for that now."

Maki snapped then, losing her practiced reserve and showing all the terror that stirred beneath. "Then what am I supposed to do? Should I just wait for her to kill Hanayo so she could have her fun?"

Umi had no answer.

It seemed like she did not have the answer to many things lately.

Honoka was a walking catastrophe, leaving blood and death in her wake as she pranced around while impeccably dressed and smiling like the sun. And just like a hurricane, she could not be stopped. Umi tried many times before and she failed just as often. No vampire could defeat the Queen for all of them derived all their strength from her blood. Many witches and werecats have tried as well and they were all killed. Humans once succeeded, as unexpectedly as it was, though all they managed to do was chase her away and make her relocate.

All Umi could do was control the damage dealt by her creator, though that proved to be as daunting as challenging the sun's rays in her state, even with others of her kind giving her a helping hand. False vampires now hunted in the night, wandering soullessly and mindlessly feeding on humans who were at the wrong place at the wrong time, only to perish themselves once the sun rose. Once upon a time, finding one was a rare occurrence and often they were the product of a transmutation gone wrong. Now, Umi must slay at least one a night to minimize victims and keep the rest of humanity happily oblivious.

Cleaning up after Honoka produced abysmal results in terms of preventing their identities from being revealed, so tonight, Umi wanted to try something different. From her perch by a cherry tree at the perimeter of the city park, she gazed up at the fifth story window of a business building where a light was still on even though it was past working hours. Sometimes, she would glimpse a head of ash-blonde hair done in a peculiar style flitting from the draft table to a computer and back. Umi realized that fashion designers were an eccentric flock of hens and flamboyant roosters, full of creativity and the desire to please. As fashion trends changed, they proliferated and thrived to the point where the industry was a giant booming business worth riches. Minami Kotori was a part of that world and Umi could see that she belonged nowhere else. The young woman's focus was impeccable as she sketched her ideas on paper with professionalism and competence, the very picture of inspiration. The smile on her face showed her passion for her work and her enthusiasm to create the best clothing for her client. Umi rarely saw that kind of drive on people, for most of them typically trudged through every day of their lives. It was plain to see that Kotori was one of the few gifted with fulfillment and a job she truly loved.

She will go far, Umi thought with a little envy. Indeed, the fashion designer was well on her way to achieve what humans called a full life. She would succeed her in career, have a family, and watch her children be successful in turn, before passing away with very little regret and significant contribution to her society. Honoka threatened that potential, however, and Umi could not help but feel pity. She knew this sort of script played out before, several centuries ago, to a daughter of a noble physician. Bright, independent, and possessing a strong personality, the daughter could have pioneered an early feminist movement by following her father's footsteps in medicine. But she was swayed and seduced, falling in love with darkness incarnate. The daughter tragically woke up to an eternal night after she lost her heart, her chances of achieving a full life stolen.

Indeed, they were all tragedies, were they not? The initial thrill of immortality that humans craved so much quickly staled, and by the time they realized that people were simply not made to live forever, there was no turning back. All that awaited a vampire was a life in the shadows, cursed by the necessity to kill and to live in the margins of human society, forever longing to return to the light. Watching Kotori, Umi wondered if the woman even dreamed of living forever and if so, was the thought enticing to her? Zealots still pursued eternal youth even in modern times, but more and more people learned to be content with their lives as the centuries passed. Perhaps it was because humans lived far longer than they did before with the help of medicine and technology, or perhaps, in an age in which change happened so fast, humans felt like they have lived many lifetimes by the time they expired. The perception of life was complex that way.

It was well past eight o'clock when Kotori exited the building. She looked quite happy with herself, excited to go home and rest so she could return to work early the next morning. Slung upon her shoulder were her drafts, rolled and stored in a plastic case, and she made sure to keep it near like a well-guarded treasure. When she crossed the road, Umi stepped out from the shadows, unable to decide how to approach.

"Minami Kotori," she called out after the fashion designer strode past her, like how normal people would when passing a stranger. The woman tensed, tightening her grip on her belongings, and faced Umi with concern on her expression.

"Y-yes? Do I know you?"

Umi frowned. She did not want to frighten her, though she should have expected it. "No," said she while trying to sound amiable as she parted grave tidings, "but I implore you to heed my warnings. Stay away from Kousaka Honoka. She is not who she poses to be."

This time it was Kotori who expressed displeasure. "What do you mean? Do you know Honoka-chan?"

"Better than you ever would."

"I don't understand," the other woman squinted to see her face. Umi had taken care not to reveal her likeness to Kotori, fearing that Honoka would catch wind of this meeting. "Are you a business rival or something? Honoka-chan is my friend, so I have no reason to avoid her and I won't do so just because you asked."

How should she explain the situation without telling too much? Umi grimaced and clenched her fist in a trouser pocket out of desperation. "She wears a mask that hides her true self. She is dangerous, Minami-san, and you will do well to avoid her. Have you not heard the news lately?"

Kotori's eyes widened a fraction, but the surprise was quickly replaced by indignity. "Are you saying that Honoka-chan is responsible for all the bad news on TV? I don't believe that. Those horrible crimes were committed by some cold-blooded killer who take pleasure in taking lives and butchering people. Honoka-chan is nice, thoughtful, and warm-hearted. There is no way she would hurt anybody! You've got the wrong person and I won't stand here and accuse my friend of such things."

"You are right," said Umi, whose voice did not waver despite her counsel's rejection, though resignation weighed it down by just a fraction. "You do not know me. However, ask yourself, do you know who Honoka truly is?"

"You can't know a person completely. That's just impossible, but I do know that you are mistaken."

Umi furrowed her brows, finding it difficult to sow breadcrumbs for Gretel to follow. "There is no one by the name of Honoka in the Kousaka family."

"W-what?"

"Research about it and you shall see. It might just save your life." The vampire stepped back and retreated into the shadows. She knew that doubt was the best seed to plant right now. Kotori was already fiercely defensive of the Progenitor, and no matter what Umi said, she would not believe her. The instantaneous barricade in the human's mind was evidence enough, telling her that her words would only fall into deaf ears.

"Wait! Just what you do mean by that?"

Umi did not bother to return and grimly hastened her strides. Briefly, she questioned herself. Was this right? Honoka would find out about it and that might end this poor human's life even sooner. Once unmasked, the Progenitor would surely kill Kotori. However, once she looked back upon her endless years, Umi only saw idleness. She did not do anything back then, nothing significant. She wanted to change that and allow other players in this stage to play their parts. Alone, she would surely be defeated, but maybe, acting upon the many facets of life would yield results.

Let us see just how much of those feelings of yours are mutual, Minami-san.

Tiredly, she looked upon the lights of the train station and gave into her rare impulses. She purchased a ticket and walked into the brightness. The fluorescents were a poor replacement for the sun but they were the only lights under which she did not burn. She could understand how such a charade could be enticing, for it made her feel human again like she was not apart from these mortals' lives. She observed them board the train and chatted inanely about the day's happenings. And just like that, Umi's make-believe ceased. She did not have days after all. Those have been gone from her for millennia, and the only sunrise she could remember was the first time she watched a movie on the silver screen.

She had not seen the sun for so, so long.

So when Umi saw a woman with summer's sunlight woven in her hair, she stopped and stared.

It is her.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Ayase-kun." Her finance professor nodded to her amicably, though his neck still lacked oil, rickety in a constipated kind of way. "Be sure to have the charts ready by next week. It is imperative that it is presented as soon as possible. A recommendation from Kanda Corp. would look amazing on your resume."

"I will, sir." Eli graciously smiled at him and bowed when he turned to exit the train car they shared. Frankly, she was nervous being with him, for Professor Yamamoto was a terrorist beneath the gentle smile and portly frame. He looked like everyone's favorite grandfather, white whiskers and double-chins and all, but he was strict in class and liked everything to be precise and on time without exceptions. Eli thought bad luck brought him to her on her way home, but in retrospect, he gave her a lot of invaluable pointers, though his scrutiny of her work was always nerve-wreaking.

She wilted in her seat, wishing that she was already home and enjoying a warm, comforting bath with her favorite body soap's scent wafting into her nostrils. Sadly, she was still two stops away from her neighborhood and she had three blocks to lug her belongings over. For a moment, she wondered if she should have just taken a taxi, but when her calculating mind kicked in, she was horrified at how much that would cost her.

Eli checked her emails in her smartphone, perusing the ones that had just arrived and replying to others to pass the time. Hers was a busy life and she rarely had the luxury to waste time staring off into space. She left her apartment before the sun had fully risen and only returned way past the time it set. Always on the go, juggling a master's course and a full-time job left little time for her own amusements. Sometimes, she wondered why she was doing all these things when, evidently, it did not give her any happiness. Eli quickly squashed that thought before it budded though. Thinking of how unsatisfied she was with her current situation would only make her feel depressed and depression was the last thing she needed right now with a major presentation was looming over her head.

What was missing in her life? The first thought that came to mind was family. Half of her family was in Russia, while the other half lived in another town, far from here. But then, her family had always been fragmented, was it not? No family reunions, no family outings, just cold, hard routine. Her only solace during childhood was her little sister, Arisa. But now that Arisa was in Moscow and finishing her undergraduate degree, Eli did not have the buddy she had had all her life.

Her coworkers teased that she needed a man, a boyfriend she could dote on and go out with. Just today, Mina tried to set her up with a cousin during lunch. The sudden meeting-cum-blind date was all well and good, until the said cousin began doing disgusting things with his hands that men tended to do. Eli shuddered at the memory of the guy scratching his crotch in a public place and deliberated how males could be so repulsive. He did not even have the dignity to apologize after she had caught him too. Instead, he merely smirked at her, probably thinking that she had some sickening interest in what was inside his jeans.

Eli erased the scene from her mind and, instead, let her gaze meander over to the other commuters. She paid close attention to men in particular and found no feelings of attraction for any of them. She found some to be too ugly, too rough around the edges, while the others looked too sloppy and not at all sweet-smelling, especially the guy who was sitting two seats away from her. She could smell the heady stink of unwashed man over her own perfume and grew even more nauseated. Sighing, she leaned back into her seat and concluded that she was not attracted to men at all.

So, having a boyfriend was definitely off the list.

But who was she kidding? She did not even have time to go out shopping and here she was thinking of looking for a potential partner. I'll probably be way past thirty before I find anybody, if anyone is still available by then. Looking for a member of the opposite sex that was marginally acceptable was one thing, finding one of the same sex seemed impossible. Sure, there were a lot of pretty and respectable ladies around, but most of them would not even consider a relationship with another woman. Eli was not even sure if she even preferred women, especially when she thought about the ones with masks of thick make-up and lips as plump and red as earthworms in season. This romance business was truly a complicated thing.

Fine, I'll just be alone and hope that Arisa would at least give me a nephew or a niece to coo on. On that note, I should really give her a call.

Eli mentally reminded herself not to let slip the fact that she had lost her sister's flashlight. Arisa always mentioned it during their conversations, for she knew how terrified her older sister was of the dark. The thought was endearing, and it reassured Eli that her sister remained the sweet little girl she took care of, but it was difficult not to admit that she had lost the trinket. Even now, after weeks of accidentally handing it over to a stranger, she could not quite get over it.

Maybe it's still available online or something.

She got off the train and stood at the exit of the station, dreading the march that would come henceforth. Though streetlights lined the road that she must travel, Eli still could not shake off the terror of walking home alone at night. The lamps provided a cone of sanctuary every several yards but the black spaces in between made her anxious. After all, anything could hide in the darkness, and most of them were unpleasant. Just yesterday, Eli heard of a terrifying murder on the news, a report about a woman ambushed by a gasoline station. The woman had a hole in her chest and evidences of a struggle were all over the asphalt, written in blood.

Eli bit her lower her lip and swallowed her trepidation. The world seemed to be spiraling down to yet another brutal Dark Age it seemed. Back when she was a high school student, the worst murder cases involved bullets and knives, now people kill others by opening their chests. How and why killers would do such things were beyond her and the lack of rationale for violence did nothing to alleviate her fears.

Nervously, she pressed her smartphone's button and turned on the device's flashlight app. She resorted to using her phone as a torch since she lost her chocolate bar flashlight, and fortunately, it allowed her to survive the nightly treks home. However, tonight made her especially tense because she had forgotten to charge her phone and now its battery notification was flashing red.

"Please make it home."

As if on cue, the phone died.

Eli cursed. She had not even left the station yet! Helplessly, she scanned the station and remembered that there was a convenience store off to its side. She quickly went there, hoping to find a flashlight she could purchase or a power bank to charge her phone, but the shop was too small and only had AA batteries on the shelves.

"You really don't have any flashlights available?" Even a tiny LED one would be better than nothing.

"Nope, sorry Miss." Why were convenience stores never convenient? Moreover, why was this guy being such a dick? Was it too much to ask for some sympathy?

Eli drooped by a post outside and tried to gather some courage to brave the night so she could go home. She did not even know when she began fearing the darkness, only that she remembered being told of monsters that dwelled under her bed or under the black shade of a tree at night. She supposed she simply carried those fears into adulthood, and of course, the news did not help to rectify her anxiety at all.

"I believe this belongs to you."

Having lost all her cool long ago, Eli shrieked, jumpy and distressed because of her dilemma.

"I apologize. I did not mean to frighten you, Miss. It seems like I have a talent for scaring people tonight."

"It… it's fine. I've just been edgy since I got here." She held a hand over her pounding heart as she turned towards the deep, female voice who scared the living daylights out of her. What she saw indeed surprised her. "You… you're that lady from the other night."

The dark-haired woman nodded and held out a white-gloved hand towards her. On it was Eli's chocolate bar flashlight.

"You still have it?" Gingerly, she took the device from the stranger and flicked it on. She could not quite describe how relieved she felt when she saw the familiar shade of white from her handy-dandy flashlight. "Thank you for returning it to me. I'm stupid, I gave this to you when I meant to give you an actual bar."

"Please, do not degrade yourself in such a way. You have been kind to me." It was only then that Eli had calmed enough to look at the woman's face. The raven-haired stranger had aristocratic features, a slim heart-shaped face, pale complexion, and the brightest set of amber eyes she had ever seen. In truth, Eli had forgotten her face since they first met for their meeting was so sudden and too fleeting, but she remembered those luminous eyes that were like liquid gold trapped in crystal.

"N-no…" Eli cleared her throat as she pocketed the flashlight, "It was nothing. I-I mean, I didn't really do anything. But thank you again, um…"

"Do not mention it." The woman bowed politely, and then furrowed her brows after she had straightened. "Is there something amiss? You look pale. It seems like you are the one who is unwell tonight."

"No! I'm fine, really." How could a grown woman admit to being scared of the dark, anyway? "I've just had a long day and, you know, feeling a bit worn out. I'll be good as new after some rest I'm sure, and now that I have my flashlight back, I can go home without having a nervous breakdown."

"A nervous breakdown?"

Eli paused from shifting her things from one arm to another. Did she really just say that aloud? "Uh… I have a big project at the university, you see." She chuckled sheepishly and fidgeted when she felt her new acquaintance studying her face with those eyes.

"Would you like me to accompany you? You seem to be quite burdened by your textbooks."

"How nice of you, but you don't need to do that. I'm a big girl, I can handle myself." Eli grinned as confidently as she could. She even added a charming wink to prove her sureness. "But um… would you like to get a cup of hot chocolate with me?" Why are you inviting a mysterious and absolutely beautiful complete stranger, Ayase Eli? Have you no shame? Her smile faltered slightly, "I-I mean as thanks for returning my flashlight. There's a small coffee shop a block from here, if I'm not imposing on you at all. I know it's quite late and… well, chocolate alleviates all worries and anxieties."

She expected a respectful refusal, but the woman only smiled ever so slightly at her.

"It would be my pleasure."

"Great!" She released a gallon of held breath at the response. "My name is Ayase Eli," she would have held out her hand for a handshake if she was not carrying textbooks, so she settled with a polite bow. "I think after meeting twice, it's only right that we properly introduce ourselves."

"Indeed, I agree. I am Sonoda Umi."

Eli quickly noticed that Umi behaved like someone who had been left by the times. She always spoke respectfully, with all the proper decorum fit for her new acquaintance, and she dressed about as fashionably as a mannequin in a tuxedo shop, far removed from the trends of modern women her age. She wore a dark gray woolen coat that reached past her knees, shiny black loafers, and white cotton gloves. She even had a brooch pinned over her breast with some sort of emblem that Eli did not recognize. If she did not know better—and she did not—Eli would assume that her new friend was from old England, a majordomo of some old world lord. Yet, Umi was as real as the next person on the street, even if she looked like she took a time machine to get here.

Umi's peculiarity did not stop with her fashion sense either. Her mannerisms were definitely outdated and consisted of long forgotten chivalry that most men no longer even bothered to do. For one, she immediately commandeered Eli's textbooks, gently yet firmly insisting her hospitality. "It is rude not to help," she said as she effortlessly hefted three, two-inch tomes in her arms. Secondly, Umi made sure to walk closer to the street, keeping Eli in the safety of the sidewalk even if that meant she must always side-step to make way for other passers-by. She also kept her strides slow and even to match the blonde's wary steps. Oh stop thinking too much about this, Eli. It's all coincidence.

"Are you alright?" Umi asked when their small talk died out. They have wandered away from the station far enough that its brightness had diffused into the night, leaving Eli with only the streetlamps and her flashlight. "You grow uneasy the farther we go. Do you have a fear of the darkness by any chance?"

Eli felt her sweat turn cold. "A… little bit. Silly isn't it? A woman in her mid-twenties, scared like a child."

"We all have our fears, and in truth, there is much to be afraid of even in this illuminated world," Umi told her. Her voice was like velvet, dark and deep, yet smooth as silk and as resonant as a cathedral bell. Paired with her formal speaking habits, raven black hair, and somber countenance, she looked and sounded like a queen from a fairytale. "However, there is also much to love, is there not?"

"I suppose so. Are you always this poetic?" Her perceptive and colorful words have amused Eli since they began talking.

Umi sent her a side-long glance, "No. It just so happens that my mind boarded that particular train of thought. Do you find it odd? I apologize if I have overstepped any boundaries."

"No, of course not and there's nothing to apologize about. I was just thinking that if people could speak half as well as you then the world would be a better place." Umi's ponderings reminded Eli of 18th and 19th century prose and poems she enjoyed reading back when she minored in literature during her undergraduate years. Those books contained language so beautiful to read that she could only honor them by voicing them aloud under her breath as she consumed page after page. It was like listening to a symphony, harmonic and breathtaking.

"Truly?" Her companion's lips curved down, barely noticeable on her emotionless face. "I have long wished I could learn how to speak like my peers. I heard that using informal language is easier and better suited in expressing one's thoughts and emotions."

"Today's language contains a lot of cursing, words that don't make sense, and slang that only a small group of people would understand, oh and hashtags, for one reason or another. I'd prefer if you stay the way you are, Sonoda-san." Eli smiled as they stopped in front of the coffee shop's door, refreshed by the conversation. Somehow, intellectually talking about absolutely nothing was relaxing, and Umi's genuine interest and reactions to their topics was more engaging than she had anticipated.

"Umi, if you please." The raven-haired woman held the door open for her, "Plenty of people call me by my surname at work as it is. I prefer that my friends and personal acquaintances refer to me by name. It is essentially the most informal thing I do these days."

"That and keeping some stranger's flashlight with intentions of returning it." The blonde giggled, "Then in that case, call me Eli. It's only fair, right?"

For the first time that night, Eli saw Umi's seemingly infallible reserve falter. She shyly averted those pretty amber eyes of hers and fixed them on the shop's menu board. "It is the right thing to do. I know you did not mean to lose it to me."

"Tell me you weren't actually searching for me these past few weeks." Chuckling, Eli walked up towards the shop's counter and ordered her usual hot chocolate. "That'll just make me feel embarrassed."

"I would not say that I was," her companion stood beside her and placed her order as well. Eli noted that Umi preferred tea over coffee or anything sweet. "Though, strictly speaking, I was keeping an eye out for you. If I somehow chance upon you again, you would be very difficult to miss. Ah, please charge my friend's order into my card as well. Thank you."

Eli dumbly stood there and gaped when her new friend paid for her drink too. She had been struggling to get her wallet from her purse and had not been quick enough to prevent the cashier from swiping the platinum card into the reader. "Thanks. You didn't have to do that."

"It is of no consequence," Umi told her with a gentle tone as she was handed her receipt. "Besides, there are other patrons behind us."

"Right."

They waited for their beverages and chose a seat by one of the shop's expansive windows, though sadly, the view was not quite as beautiful as it was during the day. Eli used to study here and she used to zone out sometimes when the material just won't stick. She stared outside these windows and watched the world pass her by, feeling like a hefty piece of driftwood in the river of society. She could still recall the pink and yellow pansies by the sidewalk, planted in fenced boxes with terracotta pots, and the palisade of sunflowers arching their necks to follow the sun in reverence. Unfortunately, there was only darkness outside at this time and those pillars of lights from the streetlamps revealed nothing of the neighborhood's attractions.

Interestingly, Umi was not at all interested in the view. On the contrary, Eli noticed that the other woman's gaze almost never strayed away from her, eliciting a queer sort of self-consciousness she did not realize she had. After all, Umi was a lovely thing, with porcelain skin, precisely rouged lips, and a face of a ceramic doll, whose long eye lashes curtained patient eyes. Eli would not call Umi's allure as exotic, but it was definitely not of this world either. There was a mystical quality in her beauty, almost ethereal. Like Snow White.

"So, since you called me friend and treated me to hot chocolate, I suppose this is when we get to know each other?" Eli smiled in jest as she sipped her warm drink. "You know, the whole: I'm Ayase Eli, Libra, born more than twenty years ago, yadda yadda?"

Umi's mouth curved upward as she refreshed herself with her tea. "Is that absolutely necessary?"

"Not really," she chuckled, "I'm just grateful that you saved me back there so, like a nice damsel in distress, I'd like to know my savior. But it seems like you're not much of a conversationalist, are you?"

"A lot of people say that, yes. Although, in truth, it is because only a small fraction of my thoughts reach my mouth."

"Oh?" Eli licked the froth from her lips, "I think I was like that when I was younger. A high school friend once told me that I think too much and do too little about a problem." Eli toyed with the paper sleeve of her cup, loosening it and spinning it around the smooth surface like a carton carousel. "So I decided to fix that as an adult. Or I tried to at least."

Umi tilted her head a bit, a picture of propriety and grace. "What did you do?"

"I practiced saying what came to mind and that somehow helped me be more involved with my life and my interests." She leaned forward and rested her elbows upon the table, "Why don't you try it? What are you thinking about right now?"

Her friend's fine brows knotted in thought. "I am thinking about my burnt tongue, and that the tea is bitter because the water had been too hot."

"You burned your…?" Eli laughed, for Umi's honesty in regards to their little exercise tickled her so much that a chortle came right out. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to laugh at that."

"It is quite alright. This is an interesting game."

Eli nursed her warm cup of hot choco, "It is, isn't it? What else is on your mind? Don't you feel a little liberated being able to express whatever you wanted?"

As a response, Umi nodded, her bright eyes mellowing down to warm cinders and matching the incandescent bulbs of the coffee shop lamps, homey and comfortable. "It is therapeutic. Though I believe there are still some thoughts better left unvoiced."

"Such as?"

Umi held her tongue for a couple of seconds, deliberating, but then she said, "Thoughts about how beautiful you are."

"W-what?" Eli choked on her drink and coughed. Did she hear Umi correctly? Did her friend just say what she thought she said, or was her mind playing tricks on her? Regardless, she knew that her face was burning red, yet she could not quite raise her hands to hide it from Umi's gaze.

The raven-haired woman seemed confused about what she had said too and coughed uneasily. "I-I mean, I was thinking about how… lovely your hair is. I did not mean to, um…"

"O-oh!" Okay, so I did hear more than what she actually said. Thank you for being misleading and overly expectant, brain. "I see. Thank you, I… I guess." Though she managed to save a bit of her dignity, Eli dropped her hands onto her lap and stared at her to-go cup of hot chocolate. She felt about as confident and graceful as a sixteen year old at junior prom that all she could do was glance at her coffee date from under her lashes, looking for proof that she was not the only one embarrassed by this development. However, she could not quite trust her eyes either. Maybe Umi was indeed as red as she was at that moment, or maybe the coffee shop's lights were only faking her and Umi remained impassive. Nevertheless, she really should not let a sudden and possibly empty praise get to her.

Silence lingered between them, though Eli's thoughts kept spinning in circles. She did not know just how long they sat there trying to avoid each other's eyes, so when the barista came to them and said that the shop would be closing soon, she let out a sigh of relief. Now, if only she could calm down her heart just as quickly. Get it together, Eli. This isn't the first time someone complimented you like this.

"I am sorry," Umi said as they exited the establishment. "I did not mean to make you uncomfortable. My words hold no lies though. You are indeed lovely, much to the envy of other women." She stepped down from the café's porch and looked up at her, "Shall we?"

"You really are charming in both gestures and words." Eli muttered under her breath and followed suit. She then asked, "Is being suave or otherwise slick with tongue slips part of your profession?"

"I do not see why I need to be when I work amongst ancient armors, priceless paintings, historic documents and fossilized prehistoric reptiles."

"That sounds dreary…"

"Some people call a museum a treasure trove of knowledge."

Eli's eyebrows arched in amazement, "You work at a museum?"

Umi nodded, "I am a junior curator, yes, though what I truly am is a historian. I currently study the history and folklore of Europe and its… supernatural legends."

"Fascinating. Though why aren't you in Europe then? Surely it'll be more engaging to learn in the actual place?"

"There is something that I need to take care of here first, and the curator requires that I stay and translate some Eastern European texts so it could be better studied here. However, you are right, going to the actual place would be better than pouring over old tomes and parchments half a world away." Umi tried to take Eli's books from her again in order to carry them for her. Eli politely declined, abashed.

"You say you study supernatural phenomenon, like ghosts or something like that?" The first thing that came to mind were those silly reality shows of ghost hunting and castle hopping hoping to find proof of ghosts or other paranormal happenings. Arisa loved watching such shows, though Eli's own memories of them were less pleasing and more horrifying. She could never endure the tension and the perpetual green tinge of night vision on the screen.

"Not ghosts," Umi said succinctly, "I study the legends and historic literature about vampires."

Eli bit her lower lip, instinctively stepping a tad bit closer to her companion. "They're not actually real, are they? I've seen in a documentary once, that maybe the origins of vampire tales came from stories about vampire bats, and that generations of verbal story-telling morphed it into something else."

The raven-haired woman stared at her in the eye solemnly, though her gentle expression replaced that quickly enough. "I have encountered that theory and it is indeed a sound one. However, I like to believe they are real."

"You do? Even with the whole blood sucking part?"

"Yes, even with that. What cursed the dead to live again and survive off the living? What is the point of a dead man's second life? I think those are fascinating questions that can be answered by studying the stories of immortals. Their experiences are far removed from normal people."

Eli became mesmerized by Umi's silhouette as she looked up into the night sky. For the passing moment, the other woman appeared like a lost shade, searching for the object that had casted her in the first place. She recalled the books she had read about vampires and ghouls and witches back when she was much younger. She read them not because she liked the idea of the supernatural being real but because she wanted to master her fear of the darkness. And what better way to do that but to brave tales of horror that could not touch her in real life? Yet, the results were the opposite. She still feared the blackness of the night and what could lurk within it. She was just thankful that there was no room for such things in the modern world, where everything could be studied and explained by logic.

"Ah, look at me, babbling like an ancient tome. I apologize, Eli. It seems like all I do is make you uncomfortable." There was a smile in Umi's eyes when she said that, the only feature of her face that showed a very human sort of bashfulness, and that made Eli's own expression soften. This person, in spite of all her placidness, old diction and wisdom, was indeed just another person capable of shame and sensitivity to other people's feelings. It made Umi appear younger than how she behaved and dressed, and that characteristic was somehow endearing.

"No, that's not true," Eli giggled at her discovery as she hugged her textbooks like a giddy high school girl. "You're pleasant company, Umi. I don't think I've had a deep philosophical conversation like that since I took philosophy. Thank you, really."

"If that is what you think then that is what I shall tell myself to feel like a better adjusted person. In any case, let me accompany you home. It is my fault that you are still out on the streets this late."

"Please, if it were not for you I'd still be at the station shaking like a leaf, but I agree, it is getting rather late." Eli did not need to look at her watch to know that it was almost midnight, for the coffee shop closed at eleven o'clock. "I'll make it the rest of the way, Umi. There's no need for you to stick around. I don't want you to miss the last train home."

"Are you certain?" The woman frowned in genuine concern.

"Yes. I'm already halfway there. I'll be fine." It was the truth. Her new friend had lifted her spirits up enough that she did not feel as worried or vulnerable as she was before. In addition, she had her flashlight back and thus was no longer a slave of the night. If she hurried, she could be home within ten minutes.

"If you insist," Umi lowered her head and shoulders in a well-practiced bow. "I shall take my leave then. Good night to you, Eli."

"Good night to you as well." She returned the bow and turned on her heels to race back to her apartment. Her heart was beating so fast and galloping so hard that she could probably sprint all the way there. But a sudden thought rooted her in place.

"Hold on, Umi, wait!"

The latter halted immediately as she had hoped. "Yes?"

"Uh… can we see each other again?" Eli cringed at the words that came out of her mouth. "I… I mean, I would like to keep in touch if that is alright with you. May I… may I have your phone number?" This was probably the first time she had asked for someone's number outside of school or work related situations and that made her rather nervous.

Umi regarded her with a thoughtful gaze for a moment, "Certainly."

"Ah, I forgot I can't directly add you to my contacts with a dead phone. Um, hold on, let me get a pen and—"

"Here. Just take this."

Umi handed her a cream-colored contact card, complete with the museum's name, address, phone number and extension. Eli almost laughed at how fitting it was, to get a business card from someone in a world with far more modern devices. "My personal phone number is listed there just beneath my name. Feel free to send me mail or give me a call if you would like."

"I definitely will! Please look forward to it."

"I believe I already am." Umi gave her the smallest of smiles, but even that did not fail to make her flush. "Go on then," the amber-eyed woman urged, "Get home safely."

"You do that too." Eli beamed as she took a step back, giddy like a child on Christmas day. She took no chances though and hurried home afterwards, otherwise she would stand there for the rest of the night staring at the direction Umi walked towards. She did not even have the decency to be ashamed of her attraction to the dark-haired woman, even after she collapsed against her apartment building's elevator wall. The cynic voice that constantly dwelled in her mind was uncharacteristically mute as well, despite not knowing any more about Sonoda Umi other than her name and her profession.

Well, that's why I asked for her number, didn't I?

Eli giggled like a silly young maiden as the elevator pinged at her floor, enchanted by their unexpected and delightful meeting. Because of Umi, she found in her heart a little less fear of the dark.

The city sprawled beneath the barren moonless sky like a sea of stars. Night lights, streetlamps, sentry torches and vehicle headlights twinkled and pulsed like many tiny satellites, breathing life in an otherwise black world. The lightbulb was definitely one of man's greatest inventions. Mastery over fire might have aided humanity in conquering the wilderness and the untamable darkness of the night, but it was electricity and the bulbs that allowed them to completely form the nightscapes for their own needs, invading the territory of nightwalkers like herself.

Maki thought it magnificent. She had always been more sympathetic to the human cause and the species' obsessive passion for complete domination of the world around them. This technological Manifest Destiny brought the existence of the radio, the lightbulb, and the society that lit up the night like a mighty glowing parasite on the earth's face. As much as she believed that humans could be deplorable creatures full of lust, avarice and blind ambition, she thanked them for bringing light back into her world. Without all their faults and fears, the modern nightscapes would have not have existed.

She was not always such a grateful woman, nor was she always thankless. Maki was merely a person who liked benefiting from others. She had been a count's daughter after all while her mother hailed from a wealthy merchant family, and thus she was raised to be a businesswoman, a lioness, someone who was better than most, more intelligent, and had the temperament to take more and give less in order to further the family's wealth and her own personal interests. She had been brought up to be selfish.

Maki was certain that her father would approve of the woman she had become, or at least the woman she turned into after several centuries. After she had forsaken the sun and walked amongst shadows, she became nothing more than a shell, a snail whose innards have been sucked out and savored. It took many years before she was able to pick up the pieces, and she did most of that without the glory of the lightbulb.

Now, there's no moment when there's no light blinking. She lived in a world of brightness now. Working in the hospital under all the fluorescents and laboring away in her laboratory with all the lamps gave Maki all the light she craved for. Yet, she always kept her condominium devoid of it. She was not stupid enough to pretend that she was still human, so in occasion, she looked at the world with her immortal eyes. Even though only the ember from her cigarette served as her only source of light, Maki could clearly see the people walking on the sidewalk despite being fifteen stories up. She could almost smell the warmth of their blood and read the foolishness in their heads. They're just a herd of sheep.

She inhaled deeply, taking in as much smoke and tar and poison in her lungs. The warmth seeped in her chest and Maki almost felt human again. She leaned forward on the balcony rails, the winds whipping through her loose hair and unbuttoned shirt, caressing her cold skin with equally cold fingers. Her hands had been warm. Even though five hundred years had passed, she had not forgotten the heat that seduced her into living a life of a cold corpse. She was a foolish girl back then, full of passions and ardor and daring to break all the expectations that hung around her neck, and Honoka had been the perfect rogue. She could still remember the first charming smile the Progenitor had given her as if she had only seen it yesterday, boyish, happy, and strikingly attractive. Honoka posed as a courtier's companion and played the part of an androgynous, chivalric pre-renaissance knight well enough despite the steep social dichotomy of the time. Stupid as she was, Maki had fallen for her so hard and so quickly that she thought what they had was the perfect romantic affair, an inspiration to generations of novels and young women who loved each other. They defied society, rebelled against faith's rules, and loved so fervently that she thought her heart might explode. She did not even question her choices when she had given Honoka both her maidenhood and her life. She had been willing to give Honoka everything, even her soul if that was what she wanted.

In the centuries that followed, Maki wished that she had not been so thoughtless.

She took a drag once more, drawing so intensely that the ember nearly scorched her fingers, and exhaled it all through her mouth and nostrils. Maki likened the rising smoke to watching her spirit leave her again and again. She was dead after all. She had been dead for a very long time. Though that was not strictly correct either, was it? Being a vampire did not equate to being a zombie. No, a zombie was an incomplete vampire, a malformed pupae, an abomination. The Vampiric Factor, or V-factor, as she had coded it in her studies, the special component of a vampire's blood, had not reached a zombie's brain and thus was unable to complete the metamorphosis. A vampire with a dead, empty mind. True vampires were living creatures, or at least as living as the common concept of living could describe. They could gain some nourishment from eating human food. They could learn new concepts, adapt, socialize, be sentient and in control of their thirsts. Vampires were superior to humans in every single way, except the factor had rendered them vulnerable to direct sunlight and effectively sterile. Maki had seen vampires combust when left out in the sun for too long. Once, she even conned a vampire into jumping into the noon sun and watched as he charred black and became nothing more than grotesque statue of soot.

That part of our physiology is something I still can't explain. Sometimes, Maki wished she could simply write it off as a curse without any scientific explanation whatsoever, but she was a scientist first and foremost, unable to accept that such a phenomenon was without a cause. There was one thing she was sure of though, vampires were not dead men walking. They were simply humans in another life state, bound to youth, barrenness and timelessness because of an agent that reworked their original DNA. Some people would call that plagued by a retrovirus or some incurable disease. Sick. Infected. Cursed. There's no other way to describe it, is there?

Maki was convinced she could unravel the secrets to their immortality sooner or later. She only had had the better part of the last century to study her kind's blood, behavior, and physiology while some human ailments were studied for far longer than that and with a cascading team of specialists. When she succeeds, she might just change the world. With scientific studies and evidences about their life state, vampires just might be able to live alongside humans without stakes and torches and silver bullets (she still found it extremely amusing that humans believed vampires could be hurt by a certain, and relatively common, element; silver or otherwise—she still chortled whenever she heard about that whole garlic thing. She was actually rather fond of the roasted garlic aioli pasta with a side of marinara at a nearby restaurant), and perhaps, the knowledge would be able to help humans without ever cursing them with eternal night.

That particular goal only entered Maki's long list of probable achievements by accident. She studied vampiric blood and discovered the V-factor not because she wanted to use it for medicine but because she wanted to understand it and maybe even reverse some of its more disadvantageous effects somehow. However, because her research involved gallons of blood from both humans and vampires (whenever she could get it. Otherwise, she resorted to using her own.), bone marrow, and a polished veneer of blood disorder studies to cover it all in order to fund her experiments, she was inevitably approached by patients with rare hematologic conditions looking for a cure.

One of those patients was Koizumi Hanayo.

Maki entered her condo and poured herself a glass of red wine as she thought of her patient. Hanayo was an exceptional case of congenital afribrinogenemia and she bled about as randomly as the rains poured during springtime. Unable to form blood clots because of a missing protein and always in danger of spontaneous bleeding, she was a delicate specimen and a few severe instances of menorrhagia interred her into hospital care. Several transfusions later, Hanayo hemorrhaged in her gut and by that time her family became too scared to bring her home. That was when they approached Maki and her specialization. She had been quick to tell them that all she could do for the patient was to continue her blood transfusions and be more vigilant about her bleeding episodes. She did not want anything to do with a human whose destiny has been written out by her genome, but just to uphold her reputation, she took samples and brought it back to her laboratory.

Maki became Hanayo's personal physician ever since.

She sipped her drink, planted the burnt out cig butt to join a forest of extinguished tobacco in the ashtray and lit another one. Her willingness to help Hanayo sprouted from her selfish need for a test subject, one whose blood that could produce interesting results when inoculated with the V-factor. So far, the microliters of V-factor had been unable to rewrite Hanayo's DNA enough for her to generate her own fibrinogen, but at least it helped prevent her spontaneous bleedings. Along the way, Hanayo became less of a lab rat and more of a companion to Maki. Perhaps in her long life, she had forgotten what being human was like, how beautiful their fleeting lives were, and that there was at least one person in this dingy and disgusting world that could exemplify goodness of heart to such a degree. Indeed, Hanayo was a bundle of love and strength trapped in a fragile, leaky body. Maki never heard her talk about another person negatively, and despite her pitiable state, she still displayed sincere sympathy to those who met unfortunate ends when she watched the evening news. She saw her cry because of the news once, and she told Maki that she was sad because some people considered killing a necessity, even though it could have been avoided. How naïve of you, Maki had thought, believing that Hanayo's feelings were but a transitory episode of compassion that would disappear the moment the television was turned off. As it turned out, it did not. Hanayo remained heavy-spirited for days, until Maki took it upon herself to cheer her up by anonymously sending her a platter of premium sushi.

The young woman might have picked off most of the sashimi from her gift in order to enjoy the rice on its own, but she appeared a bit happier afterwards. Like keeping a pet, Maki cared for Hanayo for the better part of the year, finding the experience gradually more and more enjoyable, more so when the brunette began sketching pictures for her. She discovered that Hanayo was a gifted artist, talented with both pencil and paintbrush, with a passion to capture the breaths of nature that most people forsake because of more pressing yet trivial matters. Her current obsession was her pet cat, an orange ball of paws and fur that had somehow placed itself in Hanayo's care. Most of her drawings involved Rin nowadays and Maki probably had three or four pictures of the little kitten in her office because of it. It reminded her just how young Hanayo was.

Just a bit more. If I can just find a way to inhibit the factor's spread while keeping its regenerative function intact. She might be able to give Hanayo a new lease on life then, assuming that she would not fry into a crisp the moment she stepped out of the hospital. Even with such a minute dose, Maki was well aware that Hanayo suffered sunburns too fast and too easily to be considered normal. There's still some time.

Her greatest fear now was not her patient's fragile health, but her creator's presence and knowledge about her whereabouts. It had been several days since the Progenitor's shocking visit at the hospital and Maki's nerves could only take so much stress. She did not sleep for two straight days since she came face-to-face with Honoka, fearing that the queen would return and force herself in her life once more, just like she did back when she was still human, or prey on the patient she had stupidly revealed to be an important person. She cajoled Umi to stand guard and be ready for anything should Honoka return, but the hours had turned to days and there was no sight of her. She knows who I am. There's no mistaking it. I know those eyes. A tendril of thought slithered into her mind when she stared at the long lost blues she had once loved. She knows. She remembers. And she's learned how much of a pitiful wretch I became since she abandoned me. The first things that her rebellious mind thought of when she saw Honoka sitting there by Hanayo's bed were the solitude, the loneliness and the despair. I was lost. And it took me centuries to find myself again. Now she's here to scatter me to the winds like before.

Maki swallowed the rest of her wine, grimacing because her thoughts had soured the fine vintage. Now in need of something stronger, she reached for a crystal bottle of brandy, when her ears suddenly sensed a faint, soft landing on the balcony. Alarmed, she whipped around, terrified that she might see Honoka's beautiful blue eyes judging her disreputable state. However, it was not blue that came into her vision, but deep dark red, chips of ruby inlaid in stoic loathing.

"You bloodsuckers brood too bloody much." A woman stood by the entrance, her long black hair billowing with the fierce cold breeze, seemingly unaffected by the chill despite only sporting an off-shoulder blouse the same color as her eyes. "I'm sick and tired of watching you stare at the distance and not providing me with the information I need. That ginger queen of yours paid you a visit didn't she? Why? More importantly, why didn't she kill you? She certainly doesn't have any reservation about killing others without batting an eyelash." The hateful scowl on her face and the arrogance in her gestures lessened the effect of her small stature. Indeed, this trespasser behaved like a giant, brutish and haughty in spite of her diminutive form. Maki immediately bristled.

"You're not one of us." With just one whiff of her sordid stench, Maki already knew that she was not human and she certainly was not a vampire either. Moreover, even Umi could not climb or jump fifteen stories up a building. No, this creature was something else.

"Of course I'm not one of you walking corpses. I don't reek while pretending to be alive." Nonchalantly, the woman welcomed herself into Maki's abode with a devil-may-care strut and flicked the Newton's Cradle situated on a side table, sending the metal balls of the fixture bouncing irritatingly back and forth. "I'm not very fragile either, vampire, so you can forget about attacking me. Now, answer my questions."

"Why the fuck should I?" She did not relax her clawed hands despite the stranger's warning, though seeing a long white-tipped tail swishing from side to side gave her pause. "I should be the one asking the questions."

"Well, I asked them first." The cat-tailed woman agitated the Cradle again before beginning to stalking towards her. The toy's balls ticked like a pendulum, counting down the seconds in which Maki could respond to the inquiries. "What is the Queen of Vampires capable of? Don't even pretend that you're on her side, Nishikino Maki. Walls have ears. I know how much she terrifies you, which also means you know what she can do. Tell me. Your head need not roll tonight."

Maki gritted her teeth and loosened the inhibitions she had placed over her bloodline's powers. Her fangs began to elongate, and the muscle of hers limbs began to contort, growing harder and stronger. "Go to her directly if you want to know. Leave now, or I'll throw you out that fucking window faster than you can—"

The woman blinked out of Maki's sight, closed in and twisted an arm around her back so hard that her flesh stretched painfully. Behind her, the stranger chuckled with scorn, "Faster than what? You vampires are insufferably conceited. You think that you alone rule the night? Werecats have hunted in the darkness for far longer."

Werecats? Even in vampire circles, werecats were considered myth, especially after they had supposedly disappeared many centuries ago. Even back when Maki was still human, werecats have walked on more textbook pages than reality, and as the years passed, they disappeared altogether, replaced by the more common werewolf. And now, all of the sudden, one decides to pay me a visit. Angered, Maki shifted her weight, stomped on the werecat's foot, and heaved the creature over her shoulder towards the opposite side of the room. To her vexation, the feline landed softly on her feet as if she had not be thrown with force.

"You're nothing but a fledgling," the werecat's sneer curtailed her astonishment, turning her observation into an accusation. Flippantly, she preoccupied herself with the test tubes, beakers and contraptions that Maki had set up in the middle of her living room to study the V-factor. She scratched one with a sharp fingernail and the glass screeched noisily. "Two hundred years old? Maybe three. You can't read thoughts yet, can you?"

Maki did not bother correcting her estimations and circled around her, not allowing her adversary to leave her sight or gain unnecessary ground. "And why would a werecat be so interested in the happenings around vampires?" Her arm still hurt, but her blood was already repairing the damage done to it as she spoke. Her exposed haven distracted her and she vowed that this unwanted visitor would never leave the premises alive. However, her senses were not as dull and dumb as the werecat assumed. She could smell the mystics at work around the feline in human form, magic that was as primeval as her breed. Maki could scarcely believe her own deductions.

"A predator is always interested in the comings and goings of her prey. It's as simple as that. Though since your mad little queen appeared, the pickings became slim and I don't intend to let a rival hunt on my grounds. I want her out." The werecat placed a beaker back where she had found it and swished her tail. Why does that tail look so familiar? "And from what I gathered from following you around these past weeks is that you don't want her around either, so stop being a proud little bitch and tell me what you know. It might just save the life of that mouse you love to moon over at the hospital. She almost smells as rotten as you are, being an inch away from death, or is it because you've made her your plaything, hmm? Like the sick fuck you are, you inject her with your blood, little by little, to accomplish what? Turning her would be easier. She's half-dead already. What kind of life is lived inside hospital walls?"

"Don't talk about Hanayo like that! You don't know anything!"

"Ah, so I hit a sore spot. I should get a medal then. I don't think anyone has cracked your plaster death mask so much before aside from that ginger devil. But you're wrong. I know more than you think." The werecat's red eyes brimmed with exotic light, glowing tumultuously with scorn and terrifying hunger. "You're more human than vampire and that appalls me. You lot are like piles of shit dumped on the sidewalk with the way your creator litter the streets. And what annoys me the most is that there are more and more of you little shits around, haunting the night and rousing human suspicion. See, I don't curse often, but that is just how much I hate your kind."

Maki threw a punch when the werecat drew near, convinced that she was too frozen in terror to take action. I did nothing against Honoka, but that doesn't mean you can patronize me. The black-haired creature leapt away, but Maki already knew she would jump, so she followed suit using her own speed. She swung once, and when the werecat effortlessly avoided that, she took the opportunity to pull a saber hanging from the wall. Maki was hardly a fighter but she refused to be defeated by this flea-bitten puss who had clearly underestimated her abilities. The blade sung as she unsheathed it and hissed when she slashed at her enemy, staining the Persian rug with a spurt of blood after it bit into the werecat's forearm.

"Bitch. You'll pay for that." The cat licked at her injury, erasing the blemish immediately. Accelerated regeneration. Speed. What else can you do? The black-haired woman humored her inquiry almost instantaneously by lunging at her and ducking under a defensive slash. Maki twisted her grip on the sword and cleaved downwards to lop off the werecat's head, but the latter had already infiltrated her range and rendered her weapon ineffective. The saber was wrenched away from her hand a moment later. Maki quickly placed distance between them, frightened that her own blade would be used against her.

"What? Are your claws so soft that you have to use this toy?" A condescending smirk stretched the werecat's face so taut that Maki hoped it would tear it in half. "I've killed some of your brethren who could chop down a tree with only their hard bare hands. Whatever would they say if they see you using a human weapon like this? Clearly, I'm wasting my time with you. Vampires grow stronger as they age, right? Maybe I should nip you off the bud now, to spare me headaches when you finally do learn some more interesting tricks."

Maki backed away like a scared critter while her unwanted visitor bent the saber into a perfect parabolic shape and tossed it towards the grand piano on the corner of the room. She has the strength of a millennial. That scared her if she were to be honest. Her kind were definitely powerful, but it took ages for them to grow into that power. The differences between herself and Umi perfectly exemplified this, in which the latter could scale buildings, practice some form of telepathy, and impale a full grown man with a single thrust, while she, a centurial, must manage with abilities that was only above that of a normal human. How is she this powerful?

The werecat was on her before she could think about it further. The feline shot towards her like a bullet, nearly blurring out of her vision like earlier, and slugged a fist into her belly. Maki retched all the wine she consumed earlier, along with the small dinner she had forced herself to swallow, soiling the flawlessly varnished hardwood floor. She was flying before she could reel in agony and crashed into her arrangement of lab equipment like a fleshy bowling ball, shattering every single piece of glass in a loud storm. It hailed crystal on the carpet while she collapsed bonelessly on top of the metal table.

"Had enough already?" Her tormentor chuckled rapaciously with glowing red eyes. An imp from hell. "I suppose I can credit you for not exploding like a bloody water balloon. Humans do, splendidly so. But really, how tough can you be?"

Maki looked up though she saw nothing but shapes and shades. And red. Damn thing even smells red. She twitched like a dying mouse and realized that she could not feel the lower half of her body. When did her spine snap in two? Ghoulishly, she groaned but her throat was sticky and clogged by whatever fluids that came up her mouth. She tasted bile, acrid wine, and her own black blood mixed together and drowning her. She gagged and choked and coughed until she spat a mouthful of it at the demon out of spite.

The werecat did not even flinch.

In fact, the bitch licked the blood that grotesquely dripped down her lips, grimaced mockingly and spat at her. "Such shit taste, though your terror improved it just a tad." She then came even nearer, hovering above her immobile body on the table with that smug and satisfied expression on her face. When she smiled, the slits of her pupils narrowed and her fangs glistened with saliva. "Are you ready talk now?"

Maki snarled in desperation and snapped up her hand like a blade in an attempt to further shorten the werecat by a head, but that was quickly subdued. With her wrist pinned at an awkward angle, all that she got from that feat was four sharp-as-scalpel claws sinking into the soft meat of her stomach. "I can do this forever, you know. Open you up and watch you knit back together so I can do it again and again." The pain was so great that Maki could not even find the voice to scream. She could not even thrash about because of her dead legs. "Sucks to be immortal, doesn't it? A belly full of mush and you're still alive, agonizing and suffering through the injury and the fast recovery. It'll be hell when your spine get reconnected."

A gasp shook Maki's body as the werecat continued to eviscerate her. She threw her head back and begged for unconsciousness to come but even that was denied to her, only to be further humiliated when the feline licked at her exposed neck, threatening to tear it out. She tasted death in her mouth, an end she had wanted for so long, yet the dread that filled her heart kept her from succumbing. Coward! Useless!

She was too scared to die.

Like a true craven, she began to talk, but the words were garbled and only bubbles of fluid came out of her mouth. "Stop…" Her knitting tissues stung her eyes until they leaked tears. As if she was not humiliated enough, a rough tongue lapped at her tears, savoring her shame. "Stop, damn you." A silent scream distorted her face, half because of pain, the other because of pleasure. She moaned as her spine began to mend.

Poisonous laughter reverberated in the room and all of the sudden, Maki's wrist was free and the werecat stepped back on the Persian rug with guttural chuckles that sounded eerily cacophonous due to her rather girly pitch. When she caught her breath, that cocky expression had once again defaulted on her face. "You're a masochist and you don't even know. Being disemboweled and yet the sounds that come out of your mouth are like those being fucked. You love being hurt, don't you? So damn laughable."

I am. Considering all the torment that Maki had endured in her life, she could not even find the courage to deny it. If I wasn't, I would've walked into the sun by now. But what do you know? Nothing. She would give up her immortality in a heartbeat in exchange for the pleasure of wringing this feline's neck and feel that gratifying crack as her vertebrae broke. Then she would be the one laughing.

"Start talking, vampire. Or I'll open your chest next time and there's no coming back the moment I yank out your heart."

Trembling at the surreal sensations of her body sewing itself back together, Maki gurgled like a trained seal, sharing all she knew about the Progenitor and the vampire race. "Sunlight doesn't affect her. Her ability to heal herself is far less faulty and much faster. She can read minds, whether if it's a vampire's or a human's or a werecat's for all I know. She can also move objects at will, and has been known to kill without lifting a hand. She does everything we do, only better. Now leave."

"Impervious to sunlight?" The glower on the werecat's face indicated that she already knew what she had told her, but it could be just a mask. "What about weaknesses?"

Maki bit her lip as her entrails began to reconstruct themselves within her, coiling and tightening like a plague of snakes. The process was so painfully slow that the prolonged pain cursed her into swallowing moans of agony, lest her tormentor would take pleasure in her misery. She curled into fetal position and bit her own arm to withstand it all. Knowing her own limitations, it would take days to fully recover.

The werecat sadistically unfurled her and pressed down on her tender bleeding stomach with bony knuckles. "Answer my question."

Her response came out as nothing more than a pitiable croak, "None."

"I highly doubt that." The black-haired woman clucked her tongue and turned away, pocketing her bloody hands like a bull-headed adolescent. "What about her origins? Is she a demon? What is she?"

The question stunned Maki and sent her into a daze. She never asked, even when she had been prepared to give Honoka everything. She had not cared. She thought that it was immaterial to their relationship, and when she was given the blood gift, the fact no longer seemed to matter. The Progenitor was simply what her name implied, a sower of the vampiric legacy and a mother to all of them. None of the others she had known ever wondered, no one inquired, except…

"I don't know." She would not let this monster clash with Umi, who she considered a friend. "No one does."

The werecat made a sound that exhibited her annoyance. "You are about as useful as a paperweight. Beheading you wouldn't really remedy that either, so I won't bother. However, if you even breathe about this meeting to anyone, you can expect another visit from me. I'll know. I can smell your secrets. I'm not a fool to think that you haven't withheld information, but seeing as you don't even belong to the inner circles of ancient bloodsuckers, well, what you know hardly matters, does it?"

I'd pay to see you threaten Umi like this, bitch. She'll destroy you. As it was, Maki did not have the energy to fight for the last word, and merely lied motionless on her own laboratory table as the werecat's footsteps echoed farther and farther until it disappeared out of the balcony. The ropes of barbed coils that rolled in her stomach had all but placed her under shock, and she hatefully resented the fact that it did not. Succumbing to blackness would have spared her the pain, but her immortal body kept her conscious.

She could have just killed me. Cursing under her breath, the vampire used what remained of her strength to reach for the small chiller adjacent to the table where she kept her blood samples. Just prying the latches open stabbed her with so much pain that her vision blurred. Again and again, she cursed the werecat in her mind until she finally opened the damn fixture. She pawed for the cold blood bags hanging inside, struggling to control her trembling fingers. Many of the pouches fell on the floor, but when Maki finally secured one in her hand, she punctured the plastic with her fangs and drank like the desert. The fluid inside was cold and thus tasted horrible, but the sustenance made the process of healing a bit more bearable. She reached for another one and it spilled red all over her face when she bit down, causing her to cough and nearly drown. Once she had consumed that one, she dropped her hand to her side and stared at the ceiling as motionlessly as a cadaver.

In spite of everything, Maki felt oddly empty inside. In a way, pain was like fire, was it not? It cleansed away all the filth within, leaving only raw reality staring at her in the face. Yet, it was Hanayo's visage that visited her drunken consciousness, not the monsters that lurked in the shadows. She saw the young woman sketching enthusiastically with her bedside lamp at full luminosity, pausing every now and then to watch a segment of her daily evening shows. She heard her gentle laughter and easy smiles, a picture of the innocence she had lost and once again found.

If she knew what I am, she'd think I'm a monster.

Maki closed her eyes and pushed the thought away. She immersed herself in the only aspect of her life that brought her a smidgen of joy and focused on it, hoping that it would grant her peaceful sleep.

After all, it was the only escape she had.