"Stupid FUCKING bloodsuckers, thinking they can take MY FUCKING blood, what bunch of assholes..." he spits at no one in particular, and everyone at once. Stomps accentuate every stressed syllable that crackled from gritted teeth.

Yuichirou Hyakuya was so, so tired.

So tired of the vampire's callous tyranny that he felt the need to rave about it over-

And over-

And over-

Every. Single. Day.

For the last four years.

Mikaela Hyakuya's mental tallies had ceased in accuracy long ago.

But Yuu didn't need to know this. He needed someone to storm at; Mika was content with his supporting role.

Even if there was nothing to accomplish. Yuichirou could scream, yell, shriek until his throat was raw and bloody, but it wouldn't stop them. The vampires would continue to terrorize any and all they discerned weak. There was no way out of Sanguinem.

Still, the benevolent child accepted his role of silent counseling, and stood the brunt of all Yuu's bottled chagrin with patient smiles and amiable nods.

But Mika was always nebulas distant, conjuring reveries and dimensions where parents cherish, where children flourish, where humans prevail, where monsters cease.

.

("I have a plan..."

"Should I be scared?"

"Of course not. You should be happy- I'm going to get us out tonight."

The only person who should be scared is me.)

.

"Such a shame it had to be this way," Guren's lament crushes blossomed hope into forlorn cinder. "My prized stray fell for the easiest trick in the book; such a shame, such a shame."

"Run, everyone-!"

The breath in Mika's lungs is inexistent, and he's decaying, crumbling, disintegrating as life trickles from those without a chance to live.

(There's so much, too much, pooling and staining and trickling and he's drowning, heaving, choking-

"Leave me here!

Just live for us, okay?

Go, you idiot!

Be happy.")

The flickering life of Yuichirou Hyakuya is wasted on a coward without will to subsist.

.

"What the FUCK did you do?!" booming royalty catches the opossum in its act, and a bullet rattles sheepishly in the vampire's skull.

"My queen, you look lovely tod-"

The heel of her boot nearly punctures his throat.

"You," feral abhorrence seeped into illustrious speech, fangs bore in livid intensity. "My seraphs are dead by your filthy hands, Ichinose. You even had the audacity to let one ESCAPE? I'm failing for a reason to keep you alive."

"Well," Guren's titter is frigid, even through cracks of asphyxiation. "Because my love for you is so great, I find the will to keep all your little secrets~!" Pressure on his cervix alleviates- densely takes this opportunity to try her patience.

"Including the high treason bred from your little seraph projects. I wonder what would happen to Queen Mahiru Hīragi if word got out that forbidden experimentation subjects are treated as pets in her kingdom... don't you?"

"Watch yourself." It's not a threat- no, promise laces her reign when she steps on and over his jangling head.

.

"Hey, kid, I know you're still alive." Her boot is prodding into mangled flesh, into lakes and streams of juvenile blood bright and pretty on snowy linoleum. The sight is sickening comfort, she decides. "Do you want to live? I can grant you immortality;

I can help you see him again."

Crimson boils from his lips, thick, suffocating in his constricting throat. Mahiru has to inhale- for self-control, pity concealment; maybe both. This boy's been torn to shreds.

Inanimate eyes meet- they have a hard time discerning whom is farthest gone. The bleeding one merely smiles a bloody smile, croaks,

"Go fuck yourself."

The bled-out quips in response, "My subjects do that for me."

And swats away circling vultures with a smoldering pain in the back of his throat.

(The flickering life of Yuichirou Hyakuya is rekindled in abomination and regret.)