ROSE AND FANG

A/N: Hi and thanks for checking out this new AU! Please let me know if it's too similar to other stories about vampires and I'll take it down… because I know vampires were already popular before He-Who-Sparkles, and after He-Who-Sparkles it's hard for the poor monsters to be original at all. This arose out of my own dissatisfaction with the amount of Yumi x Sachiko in a previous AU story I wrote: there just wasn't quite enough, and I wanted to make up for it. So this time I thought I'd try a truly Chinensis-centric fic.

First some disclaimers: Rose and Fang is not based on the timeline of Marimite's anime seasons. This puts the soeurs in some "what-if" situations, leading to different paths of interaction and dynamics that occur at unfamiliar points, placing them later, earlier, or differently than the canon. For example, what if the Roses of S1 (Youko, Eriko, Sei) continued to play an important part even after they stepped down? Also, this story obviously isn't intended to condone or glamorize the wrongdoings or crimes of any historical period. Its only objective is to indulge our fangirlism/fanboyism and our love for Marimite. :P

So if this story's synopsis and AU interests you, please R&R but most importantly enjoy.

Chapter 1

Number 9, Lilyston Square

She used to place her pretty arms about my neck, draw me to her, and laying her cheek to mine, murmur with her lips near my ear, "Dearest, your little heart is wounded; think me not cruel because I obey the irresistible law of my strength and weakness; if your dear heart is wounded, my wild heart bleeds with yours. In the rapture of my enormous humiliation I live in your warm life, and you shall die – die, sweetly die – into mine…"

– Carmilla, "Her Habits – A Saunter"

March, 1902

The unit of Number 9, Lilyston Square was not especially large. But nor was it small. Indeed, it had a very spacious drawing room, along with a single bedroom filled with chinoiserie drawers, cupboards, mirrors and crockery imported from France. Despite their often-inaccurate portrayals of how the Japanese lived, the items were of good value and admirable craftsmanship. The house wasn't meant for a family to reside in, yet it was blessed with a very homely aura, which was desperately needed in the cold, often wet winter of south England. In that warm drawing room, amongst a crackling fireplace and shelves of well-worn and well-loved books and volumes in different languages, a Japanese adolescent with pigtails awaited her guardian, dressed in a simple beige blouse. She kicked her skinny feet just above the wooden floor and rug. It was a full moon tonight, and the stars shone above their borough. More strikingly, she wore a necklace from which the pendant of a crucifix dangled. That crucifix was a memento from the most important human being in her life; one who was vastly different to her in so many ways yet remained the centre of her world.

"Yumi."

Stepping out from the corridor that led to the bedroom was a taller girl, her beautiful face checked by a cool, almost cold façade that kept unworthy and undeserving interactions at a distance. Despite being undeniably feminine and beautifully, gracefully womanly, the eighteen-year-old vampire huntress preferred to wear conservative, tight, concealing outfits that protected her from unwelcome glances and leers – a European's garments, adapted just for her. A spotless white shirt with a frilled collar and sleeves lent her an aristocrat's air. Tight white trousers hugged by tall, black boots evoked equestrian luxury. A slender, double-breasted tailcoat hugged her cobalt vest, enhancing its wearer's form and silhouette. Affixed to her tailcoat's left breast pocket was the brooch of a red rose. It was the emblem of the Chinensis guild, founded in secret with the Foetida and Gigantea guilds at Tokyo's elite Lillian College.

"Onee-sama," breathed Fukusawa Yumi, staring at Ogasawara Sachiko's long, raven hair.

This was the era when the Imperial Japanese juggernaut thundered across Asia, and when the British Empire reached across and created entire nation-states. But there was an even greater force behind the cannons and guns, the propagandists and politicians. That force sat right here, in Sachiko's drawing room.

Yumi's eyes widened briefly before she cast her head down. It was as if she didn't deserve to see Rosa Chinensis in such a dashing suit. "You and I dress so differently it's like oil and water, Sachiko-sama."

"If it's any comfort, it's because I have a job to do in this awful weather," said the distant senior. "That's why I'm dressed up, while you're enjoying a night in reading. And how many times have I insisted that you call me onee-sama? It will help me forget how different you are to me."

The gorgeous but aloof hunter flicked back loose strands of her stunningly night-black tresses, a rarity in the English capital. "My grande soeur, Youko-sama, accompanied Viscount Hayashi-sama to sign the pact between our nation and the British two months ago. As far as the world is concerned, the Anglo-Japanese Alliance is simply to consolidate our mutual economic interests in our colonies and territories. But the secret clause in this treaty states that the Chinensis guild must stay in London to protect its people from the night's horrors." She sighed. "To languish here another year! Onee-sama must be glad to sail back to Kyoto. I want to go home too, but it's painful to anticipate another tedious, exhausting trip on those ugly steamships with horrible sailors trying to slobber over the native English ladies and me. Pigs don't discriminate. Bloodsucking monsters suddenly don't seem as deserving of my sword as those men."

Yumi giggled at the indignant tone, and it was her open mouth and smile that best reminded Sachiko of the former's frightening, literal lack of humanity: a pair of glimmering, growing fangs in place of human teeth. The gleam of those stark, otherworldly canines danced in the firelight. They admittedly looked adorable on sweet Yumi, although Sachiko knew well she was supposed to have slain her long ago, and not kept her under her roof like some adopted child or stray pet. Perhaps it was because the younger girl knew how to flatter her. "You look so gallant in men's clothes, onee-sama."

Sachiko nodded, as if the compliment was her natural right. "It's a habit I picked up while living here. The garments go well with that, don't you agree?" Yumi looked at the dark, elegant cane that rested in a tall holder with two folded umbrellas near the door. But she knew that it was really a cane sword, a disguise that concealed a deadly blade. Its handle resembled that of an ornate, rose-shaped grip, but beyond that there was no hint that it was actually the hilt of an anti-vampire weapon. "The metal of my sword, Flower Stalk – forged with silver, blessed by a Dutch clergyman at the ports, and for good measure, consecrated with a Buddhist mantra by Shimako's father." Sachiko paused at Yumi's puzzled expression. "Oh yes. You don't know Shimako or her family, do you? Her father is the head priest of Shoguuji temple. I thought it would be best to err on the side of caution, in case Catholic prayers aren't as strong as the missionaries claim."

Both vampire and human could sense it. The world was changing at breakneck speed. History was in the making, for better or for worse. But the greatest threats to humanity would remain unseen, as they had always been since time immemorial.

"You'll meet the members of the Gigantea guild and the Foetida soeurs soon enough. They've been recruited by the British Crown and called to London as part of the treaty's conditions. Even I don't know when they'll be arriving. Tennou Heika is keeping all undead affairs with the Anglican Church an absolute secret." Sachiko shrugged, sliding open a drawer near one of the dark brown bookshelves and retrieving her revolver, Vermillion. She would need those Macedonian silver bullets Youko-sama promised her. "I don't even know why I trust you with such sensitive diplomatic secrets."

Yumi laughed nervously. Although Japan's ruler was known to all as Emperor Meiji, his subjects were not to refer to him except by his regnant presence: Tennou Heika, holder of the most ancient royal lineage in the world, the House of Yamato. "Do you think the other Roses… will accept me?"

"I don't know. And I'm not sure if I should let Rei and Shimako know that you live under my roof." Standing across from the door, Sachiko kept her eyes locked on Yumi's. "Your power and thirst grows with each passing week. I should kill you – or at least, that's what they would tell me. And that is what my own onee-sama told me too; until I convinced her you wouldn't hinder my contracts here. That you wouldn't get in the way." The Red Rose paused. "I suspect there will be competition between our guilds, but at least the English capital won't be depending on me alone."

Sachiko looked at her unusual responsibility with an expectant expression. Yumi smiled dumbly, and several silent seconds passed before Sachiko lost patience.

"Do I need to be more obvious, Yumi?" cried the imperious huntress in embarrassed frustration. "Come and get your evening meal, you clueless vampiress!"

The mortified Yumi jumped and leaped off the couch, scurrying over to her grande soeur. The taller girl looked down at her witheringly.

"Gomenasai, onee-sama," squeaked the fledgling bloodsucker.

"Honestly," tutted Sachiko, pulling back her white sleeve and drawing a sharp, crucifix-shaped dagger that had been strapped to her belt. "Sometimes I question my own sanity, keeping you under my roof. When you were human, you surely never forgot to have breakfast. What excuse do you have to forget our nightly ritual now? Are you so dense to forget that you do this to me all the time?"

Yumi laughed sadly, and her bittersweet smile wasn't wide enough to expose her fangs. "I didn't have enough money for breakfast when I was human. When I did, it was because I stole."

Sachiko let out a quiet sigh but didn't say anything else. That was her own way of acknowledging her mistake of assuming that a former beggar girl from her native Japan, wandering the slums of Shoreditch and Camden, could have afforded bread and fruit like the merchants, statesmen and royal servants of central London. Rosa Chinensis raised her dagger, lifting her forefinger and middle finger. She gazed at the two red scars already on them, and carefully slit them again with the clean, sharp blade. She winced as fresh blood emerged, and Yumi's heartbeat began to grow louder. "You're reopening that wound all the time now," mumbled Yumi, her voice suddenly slurred. She couldn't sound guilty even if she wanted to. Her eyes slowly widened, like a child glimpsing candy. Slowly, their brown hue began to transmute into a sinister crimson colour, so deep and raw that it matched the pigment of Sachiko's blood.

"I take good care of these marks, these cuts. Thanks to your need for sustenance they sting perpetually. But it doesn't bother me since you don't wish to kill humans." Sachiko's blood – the fluid that animated her organs and imbued her with life – was slowly slipping down her fingers, past her knuckles and hand, and the occasional droplet was already dashing the floorboards. "Hurry now. Before I make a mess. You haven't had dinner yet, so you must be hungry."

She reached for Yumi, staring at the vampire's pink lips. She felt herself on the verge of blushing.

It was time to feed.

Yumi began to pant quietly as a primordial, natural desire arose in her chest. "I… itadakimasu."

Unaware of the sensual, affectionate expression on her face, she drew near, her mouth wrapping itself around Sachiko. Her tongue dampened Sachiko's finger and her cuts, before soaking them in unholy moisture. She inhaled deeply at the taste of genuine life, and began to suck. That sucking soon became an indulgent slurp, and her saliva was soon at one with the vampire hunter's vermillion fluid. "Slowly. Take your time," said Sachiko quietly, as Yumi gulped and swallowed her ambrosia gluttonously. She was well aware of the erotic tension engulfing their hearts. It was always like this, every single night. "I know you're hungry. But don't get carried away and bite me, or I will be a very upset vampire."

"Mmm." Yumi nodded obediently and continued to suck ravenously, her trembling hands clasping her human mistress's slender forearm. But how she wanted to sink her teeth into that pale, exquisite flesh. Sachiko suppressed a grunt from her own throat as she tried to focus. The room and its mahogany environs briefly faded and blurred. Her decorum struggled against the natural honesty that guilty pleasure brings. Was her fluid really so delicious that Yumi must take away so much, leaving her slightly faint? Sachiko's eyes widened as Yumi's hands released her forearm and reached for her back. The loose blouse of the vampire pressed against Sachiko's suit, and the undead creature pulled at the human girl's shoulders insistently.

"How dare you." Having lost control and her senses in the overpowering sensation of Yumi's skin, a despairing Sachiko gazed helplessly into her vampiric ward's crimson irises. Her vulnerable, fluttering eyes could do nothing to signal Yumi to stop, let alone reproach her. How the latter's brown pigtails ruined the whole image of a thirsty, wicked Nosferatu! But she was indeed audacious, for she had now reached up, her lips aiming directly for Sachiko's pulsing neck. She slowly stood on tiptoes, opening wide her mouth. An eerie mist issued from Yumi's throat, and the fangs bared themselves to feast on something warm-blooded.

To feast on this human grande soeur whom she loved so…

"Onee-sama," moaned Yumi in an anxious warning, her necromantic breath warming Sachiko's addictive flesh. She was surprised her mind could still retain some rationality, some reasoning. And she reasoned correctly that Sachiko was in grave danger. "If you can't resist anymore, you must push me away, or even…"

The Red Rose could not help but chuckle quietly at the idea that she could somehow muster the strength to push Yumi away. Her strength was still that of a human girl's and no match for a vampire's physical power. The helplessness, the powerlessness to break free from her petite soeur's far stronger grip – it brought incredibly strange feelings, warmed her most intimate hearth, aroused her beyond words. Every night she had to feed her, she was subjected to an overwhelming assault on her senses, leaving her in genuine peril of surrendering to Yumi's innocent, unnatural charm. It would be so much easier to just give up and become Yumi's slave, but the voracious bloodsucker was right. Any further and she could lose everything. Any more and Yumi's physical and supernatural power could rob her of her life's calling. "For goodness's sake. Do not tempt me into letting myself go…" Sachiko gasped as Yumi's lips massaged her neckline, the collarbone, and the vessels that pumped the currency of life through her. Her knees felt unstable as she moaned weakly. "Don't compel… me… letting myself…"

Yumi groaned softly again, her childish fangs at their full extent. I'm sorry was what she desperately wanted to say. But all she could manage was a sigh. She pressed her lips together and shifted forward. She gave a little nibble, and then a gentle lick, dampening Sachiko's perfect skin. Her eyes shut tight, Sachiko jolted and let out a soft exclamation of thrilled surprise. A kiss, a sweet, loving kiss from Yumi, and her own, trembling hand clutched the back of her petite soeur's head. But to each other's surprise, Yumi finally managed to withdraw her fangs with uncanny effort, by closing her eyes and pressing her clammy forehead against Sachiko's breasts. Yumi closed her eyes, regaining her breath frantically. Her fingers pulled agitatedly at Sachiko's sleeve, and the crackling from the burning wood in the hearth grew louder in the silence.

"I'm so sorry, onee-sama."

"You're a handful, that's what you are," whispered Sachiko fondly, her hand moving up Yumi's face. The vampire shut her eyelids tightly, so that her supernatural senses could relish the soft caress of her human mistress. With every gentle stroke along the tips of her tresses, Yumi had to suppress a shudder. Sachiko had also just recovered, and it was evident that Yumi's touch reverberated through her racing heart too. "That night… if only I had come earlier. Then you wouldn't have suffered that unholy creature's bite. You would have been safe, and free from the compulsion to drink."

"It's not so bad like this," murmured Yumi, her voice muffled by Sachiko's clothes, her body warmth. "Even if you're only caring for me because you feel guilty, I'm glad to be yours."

"It's not because of guilt that I chose to keep you, and you shouldn't feel anything of the sort for being with me." Sachiko gazed into her bouton's unholy, adoring eyes. "I will do my utmost to resist your bite… but if you don't feel shortchanged, you have the option of making do with a kiss."

Yumi giggled coyly and reached up for her beloved. Before the doting Sachiko could even coo, the vampire's lips met her human soeur's, and the pair closed their eyes in passionate respect. Sachiko cradled Yumi in her arms, hands around her waist, as Yumi gripped the other's back. For some reason, a gentle piano and flute could be heard in the distant night as they held each other for a while.

They remained in tender union until Sachiko broke the quiet peace. "A splendid dinner, wasn't it? To suck and nibble me." She released Yumi after stroking her for several minutes, and bandaged her moist fingers with a new set of bandages in her coat pocket. She walked towards the door and retrieved her sword cane. "It's witching hour. The night is still young. Or you could say it's just begun," said the incumbent Red Rose, tapping her sheathed weapon lightly on the wooden floor. "I have money to make so we can pay the rent, Yumi."

"I'll come with you. I can help," said Yumi eagerly, adjusting the fabric that didn't really hide her flushed skin. "I don't mind hurting other vampires for you, onee-sama."

Sachiko shook her head. "No. My client today is a nun. She is bound by her vocation to report you to her diocese. I don't want you to be detected or hunted so easily. I promised to protect and nurture you, but while I'm good at my work, I'm only one woman against the House of Saxe-Coburg and Gotha."

She smiled and shrugged mildly. "And why am I making enemies out of my fellow vampire hunters? Look at what you've done to me, Yumi. I've become your thrall. For your sake, I've already fallen."

Yumi had to be grateful for the lengths to which Sachiko went to keep her safe. "Thank you… thank you for looking after me like this, onee-sama. It just makes me feel all the guiltier."

"Enough with the remorse. Stay here. Stay here at this home of mine, to welcome me back. That is gratitude enough for tonight." Sachiko adjusted her frilled collar. "Forgive me, Yumi. I will be killing more of your kin tonight."

And with that, the old door creaked and closed behind Sachiko, leaving her vampire soeur to endure a restless night by herself.

One year ago, 1901. Lansdowne Estate

The tip of Sachiko's cane found the last step of the manor entrance, tapping the stone haughtily. "Thank you for the dinner, Lord Lansdowne. I truly enjoyed the roast pork belly and Norfolk apples. We had a productive evening." Rosa Chinensis en bouton still didn't condescend to meet the eyes of Great Britain's foreign secretary. He was but a man, and therefore didn't deserve even a glance. Her tailcoat fluttered in the evening summer breeze. "I would have you know that our headmistress at Lillian College is pleased that you managed to finalize our treaty with Viscount Hayashi-sama, even though its investiture has been delayed until early next year," she said in good English, with a slight Tokyo accent.

"Of course. Yet you must remember, Miss Ogasawara. This remains a secret between Lillian's three guilds and the Crown. Between Great Britain and Japan!" emphasized the minister, garbed in a brown vest wrapped around his stomach. He stroked his moustached chin as he waved for his warden to drive up to the Japanese guest. "I trust you understand the magnitude of what has passed between our nations. Thanks to the cooperation between us, we are not only about to consolidate our hold over our colonies. The extinction of the vampire race is also imminent."

"Of course. And we will bear witness to that day when two empires united to extinguish the undead flame forever," replied Sachiko frostily. "Goodnight to you, Lord Lansdowne."

She made her way into the waiting automobile, laying aside Flower Stalk and making herself comfortable on its cushioned seat. She nodded curtly at her host, who would be remembered as a key architect of the Anglo-Japanese Alliance. Lansdowne stepped back and watched his warden press the pedal and escort Sachiko back to London. He drove at an even pace, amongst the endless private countryside. "I hope you will enjoy your stay in London, Rosa Chinensis en bouton," offered the elderly driver, his gloved hands lightly on the wheel. His friendly eyes glimmered. "Please let Lord Lansdowne know if there needs to be further arrangements between Tokyo Lillian College and the Foreign Ministry. We will protect the secrets of the hunter guilds in every way possible."

"Thank you, Mr. Lockhart. I'm afraid the guilds, and therefore my own person, must submit to the authority of Lillian College's headmistress. We are simply agents in your country, here to fulfill a clause in the treaty between Lord Lansdowne and Viscount Hayashi-sama. Anyone can see the threats to our colonies and territories. The dangers our three guilds deal with lurk in the unseen corners of the night."

"My deepest apologies, Miss Ogasawara. I will be certain to remind my Honoured Sir to keep in close contact with your country's representatives."

What miracles and abominations are in store for us in this age, I wonder? thought the bouton to herself. What sins will we commit? And what sins will be committed against us? Will I live long enough to see them? Will I regret them? Will I be able to make peace with them?

For some reason, a melancholy sentiment rose within her. To think there were ninety-nine years to go before she could see the new millennia, when perhaps the world would have moved on from the ideals of colonialism and expansionism, exploitation and tyranny… Or would it? Uninterested in the seemingly unending rows of oak trees that flanked the long and lonely road, the Red bouton allowed her eyelids to fall. She felt herself quietly nodding off after about an hour, and by the time she opened her misty eyes she could glimpse the church spire of Westminster Cathedral in the distance.

Was she back in the capital already? A pity – she had enjoyed the quiet, peaceful ride, and it was now pitch-black, darker than the shades of deep blue that had blanketed Lansdowne's home. She retrieved her cane sword, resisting the urge to rub her eyes and yawn. "Miss Ogasawara," said her escort politely. "Shall I drive you to your apartment?"

"Thank you," said Sachiko. "I would prefer that you didn't. In fact, let me alight here. I have business to attend to."

"But it's raining."

Sachiko paused, listening. Light, pleasant patters were dashing the car's bonnet and roof, and the air was more humid than usual. The flagstones and their niches were already damp and running with water. But a light shower could not put her off her task now. "Good night to you, Mr. Lockhart. But I will take my leave now." As she stepped out of Lansdowne's car, she took out a gilded compass from her breast pocket. Its red-tipped point swung north – and north indicated wherever there were vampires. Camden borough? The location is quite central. She pursed her lips and strode away from the vehicle, her mind completely focused on the hunt before her. She heard the car drive away into the lane where it can come from, and she discreetly made a turn into a back alley, where there was no one to see her. She quickened her pace as she entered an ever-present, uglier face of London, two rows of dark, poverty-stricken apartment buildings looming over her. The dim lamps hanging by the walls were rare. Two, three, five, ten minutes. Her legs broke into a brisk walk, and then into a light run. The moon shone above her as the rain gathered further and began to drench the cityscape. True to her honed instincts, she could hear a high-pitched, female scream shatter the rainy night, and she sprinted around a corner, turning left once, then right, then right again, her boots splashing carelessly into several shallow puddles that had gathered on the cobblestone path –

Squeaking, dirty rats fled the alleyway as Sachiko's eyes fell on a slobbering figure, whose clawed hand had clamped over the mouth of a terrified, struggling girl. The girl herself was in soaked rags, grey clothes indistinguishable from worn out tablecloths. Her dirty, skinny bare legs thrashed and kicked at the tall undead, to no avail. But that was not the most worrying thing. The vampire lich had sunk his teeth into the screaming girl's jugular, and was sucking ravenously as the other flailed wildly, weakening by the heartbeat. The lich's rotting face twisted into a grin as he lifted his head, gasping in satisfaction. The human girl's blood tickled down his maggoty lip and chin, and he hurled the shaking girl aside, slamming her painfully against the brick wall.

The bald vampire cackled, his naked body rippling with lean muscle. His crimson eyes danced in sadistic gratification. "You're too late, huntress. My power has seeped into her, its vampirism making her into my daughter."

"Girl!" shouted Sachiko, tucking her compass back into her coat and her grip tightening on her cane sword's hilt. Her gaze met the petrified victim's, and from one glance in the dark it was enough to tell. "You're Japanese," blurted Sachiko, temporarily stunned and caught off-guard. The trembling girl crawled back up, hugging herself as she stared back down at the ground, silenced and broken. Her neck's bite marks were still bleeding, but to her own surprise Sachiko noticed first her matted, dyed brown hair, which spilled down her small shoulders. Her teardrops, her quivering lips, and her devastated face expressed one single plea.

Don't leave me as I am now.

"Please, good Miss!" screamed the girl suddenly, who was slumped on her knees. "There's nothing you can do. Run! It's too late for me… I…" She clutched at her throat, gasping in bewildered pain as her wide eyes began to change. Her brown eyes were turning into a sickly yellow colour, before transmuting into the signature red that characterized a fully turned vampire. There was still some chestnut hue, but the infusion of unholy power was complete. More tears flowed from her new eyes as she began to blubber, frothing slightly at the mouth. She wailed and howled in helpless despair, and from her open mouth and bleeding gums Sachiko could glimpse her canines growing at a bizarre, unnatural speed, sharpening and lengthening –

"It's too late," affirmed the wicked lich, his abnormally long fingers cracking as he flexed his formidable arms. "You were abandoned to begin with, here on these soiled streets. Why should you expect anything more with me? Now you will be my slave, in every way I see fit – "

"Silence, vermin! No words for the dead."

The vampire and the weeping, bleeding girl stopped in shock as Sachiko broke in, her icy voice chilling the already cool air. Her flowing dark hair dashed with rainwater and dew, the huntress slowly raised her cane to eye level and drew Flower Stalk, her cold irises flashing furiously. The emerging blade's gleam outshone even the moon.

"Ogasawara Sachiko, Rosa Chinensis en bouton. You will die, bloodsucker. Free of charge."

So I'm a monster now… or that's what everyone will say.

What am I going to do? What's going to become of me? That was all Fukusawa Yumi, this abandoned shipyard girl, could think of. Well, not only that. The words of the beautiful, cold girl echoed in her head: Ogasawara Sachiko, Rosa Chinensis en bouton. But what did Rosa Chinensis en bouton mean? It sounded French… but she couldn't worry about that now. The lich had summoned a battalion of horrific, undead slaves – ghouls – and they leaped from the rooftops, slamming into the ground and shambling toward Sachiko. Their murky eyes were glowing hungrily. They wore nothing except filthy rags, and they still had clumps of brown and blond hair on their heads – no doubt these were simple workers who once lived around here, toiling, talking, and laughing with each other. Now they were nothing more than pieces of meat animated by infernal forces.

But the newcomer – Yumi's savior – was eviscerating the ghouls already, her rage unmatched even by the devils of old legend. She spun and twirled and riposted with a meticulous yet effortless elegance, gutting three ghouls before sending another four collapsing to the ground with a flurry of holy bullets. Four loud gunshots echoed amidst the glimmering stars. Yumi stared in awe as Sachiko's hand revealed the weapon that had fired the bullets – a revolver with a long silver barrel, its grip dyed with red satin… Vermillion. The lich himself stepped back in shock, his glowing eyes betraying his astonishment and uncertainty as the tall and very finely dressed girl tore through his gang of undead with a visible, physical vengeance that bordered on the twisted. Blood spurted and dashed the walls of the alley, mixing with the rain that was descending on the city. Pivoting her wet, slender body, Sachiko spun her sword deftly, swinging it in an overhead arc and reducing seven more in the zombie mob to ribbons of flesh, tissue and putrid cartilage. Through the thinning crowd, her stern eyes met Yumi's wide, red irises, and for a moment, Yumi could only watch the dew slipping from her rescuer's long eyelashes. Then that moment was over, and Sachiko was spinning again with the grace of a ballerina, a whirling maelstrom, hacking and dicing and lacerating past the arms that reached for her, flowing hair struggling to catch up behind her. Body parts flew and bashed against the walls like chopped meat from a violent grinder. She thrust behind her, impaling another ghoul and slashed horizontally, cutting her blade through two more that tried to grab her. Almost as one, the ghouls fell helplessly before her almost frenzied swordplay, flooding the alleyway with a sea of bodies, filling it with a horrible graveyard – for those who had died a second death. Red gore was pouring from Sachiko's sword as she wrenched it from a ghoul's twitching chest, pointing it at the glaring lich.

The male vampire spat in hatred and fear. Rain dashed his slimy countenance. "How could you assume to match the power of the immortals? Of the gods? I am immortal! You are but human!"

Sachiko didn't answer, the icy fire in her eyes scorching and etching itself into Yumi's soul. She raised her revolver and fired, and the lich managed to vanish into mist, before reforming behind the alert Sachiko. He swiped, thinking he had taken her by surprise, but Sachiko was prepared. She rolled away, her coat sweeping up droplets of clear rain, and spun around, firing several bullets into the lich's torso. He reeled, coughing blood as Sachiko advanced and lunged with her sword, piercing into his thigh and immobilizing him. He was about to grab her with his other hand when Sachiko, not releasing her sword's handle, thrust her boot's heel forward, kicking into his kneecap and forcing it in the wrong direction, shattering the joint and pressing his now limp leg past his hamstrings. A loud crack of bone could be heard, and blood spurted from the splintered kneecap. He screamed in agony, taken completely aback, and Yumi stared in astonishment at Sachiko. "Wait… wait!" hissed the lich, as Sachiko pulled Flower Stalk out of his bleeding thigh. "I haven't killed the girl, woman! Did you not notice that? In fact, I've given her wondrous powers, abilities that would dazzle any mortal! Don't you want what I have too? Imagine how much stronger you could be, how much easier your work would be – "

"Do you really think I need a man's strength, let alone an undead's?" Sachiko tucked her revolver in her holster as she raised her sword. "Wail, demon," demanded Rosa Chinensis en bouton. "Like the victims you've killed. Like this girl you've turned."

The vampire squealed for the first and last time as Sachiko's sword tore his arms to shreds. "For the Chinensis guild. For Lillian College. And for the Chrysanthemum Throne," whispered Sachiko, slashing horizontally. The lich's disbelieving expression looked all the more idiotic as his head flew off his shoulders and landed amongst his rabble of zombies. There was more blood on the ground than rain, but Sachiko didn't care. Sheathing Flower Stalk in her disguise cane, she hurried over to the trembling Yumi, stripping off her coat and throwing it around the younger girl. "My name is Ogasawara Sachiko. You have been bitten," she whispered, staring at Yumi's neck. She clasped Yumi's shoulders, her own pounding heart gradually settling down. "What did you say your name was?"

"F… Fu… Fukusawa… Yumi. Sachiko-sama…" The rainwater washed away her tears even as more of the latter continued to pour down her clenched eyelids and cheeks. "You're a hunter, aren't you? A… vampire hunter."

"Yes," said Sachiko quietly, sensing that Yumi was perhaps more afraid of her than even the dead vampire and his ghouls.

"I… I understand what you must do. I'm… I'm an abomination. I must be put down," gasped Yumi, avoiding Sachiko's gaze as she continued to sob. "Please don't let it hurt too much."

Sachiko pulled the hurt and confused undead close, embracing her in a comforting hug. She closed her eyes, a fire igniting in her own heart as she cradled the younger girl tenderly. "You're safe now, Yumi. I…" She hesitated as her grande soeur's words – kill all undead – briefly filled her mind. But her heart recoiled at that command, at least when it came to the girl in her arms, who was sobbing in disbelieving relief. "I… will keep you safe. You didn't deserve any of this, and you certainly don't deserve to die. But where are your parents?"

"In Heaven," bawled the teen vampire, her fingers clutching Sachiko's sleeve. "My brother's missing, and I haven't had a home for the past year. No one here would want a street girl, especially a foreign one. And I was too afraid to follow the men who've tried to take me to their houses. I… I…"

A renewed hatred for men bubbled uncontrollably in Sachiko as she clutched Yumi tighter, stroking her drenched hair. "You have been wandering the streets for so long? Unacceptable. You will need accommodation, shelter, a roof." Sachiko pulled away slightly and looked at Yumi's surprised expression. "And I won't let you refuse. You're cold, starving, confused and distressed. Not to say that you're no longer a human." She tilted Yumi's downcast chin up with a gentle finger. "You truly did not deserve this."

Yumi nodded slowly, her eyes calming down somewhat. She held on as Sachiko swept her up, carrying her with an arm under her legs and another supporting her back. The rain continued to fall on them, but Sachiko couldn't help realizing that despite the fact that she was holding a vampire's body, that very vampire was still warm, warm with life and a beating, immortal heart. Surely fire was fire, no matter which candle it consumed.

They stared at each other's soaked faces, and for the first time since they met Yumi's lips broke into a slight, grateful, tentative smile. And that was when Sachiko realized, to her surprise, just how cute this new undead in her arms was.

"Thank you… Sachiko-sama."

Present day

Whichever name the sun was called by – Amaterasu, Helios, Uṣas the Dawn – it deserved reverence because it dispelled the darkness and illuminated the hiding places of the undead. At this very moment, it was rising above the Thames, smiling upon the dwelling of the Crown, Buckingham Palace. It was another eventful day in England, although for some others the sun was the herald of rest and sleep.

Sachiko set down Flower Stalk amongst the folded umbrellas and made her way to the bedroom. She didn't bother to check the drawing room or kitchen for Yumi; it was already morningtide. The door at the end of the corridor was slightly open, but the lack of light filtering through meant that Yumi had been smart enough to leave the curtains closed and bound: lest she start burning up, of course. Sachiko smiled to herself and walked in, bending down to pull off her high boots. Before her was a wide bed with a tall, chinoiserie canopy that resembled the roof of a pagoda. Amidst the snowy silk sheets was Yumi, breathing softly as she sank into slumber. It was said that vampires never dream. But dream Yumi did, and it was always about her hunter-guardian… and the cold gleam of that cane sword. The Red Rose slowly, carefully sat down on the side of the bed, careful not to jolt Yumi out of her day-rest. But it was not enough to deceive the latter's vampiric senses, and Yumi opened her immortal eyes, gazing up blearily at the smiling huntress.

Sachiko stared down at the undead girl's body, her youthful, pure form that seemed so joyful and lively and vivacious. From her small, fragile shoulders to her small chest and waist and fidgeting toes, there was nothing to distinguish her from a typical human teenager, and a beautiful, flowering one at that.

"You were gone all night," sighed Yumi, her disappointment showing despite her welcoming tone. "It felt so lonely without you. I wanted to read those books with you beside me, with some hot tea for the cold rain. Your embrace is always so warm."

"I need money so I can take care of you, greedy thing. I will overlook your cheek and spend the coming night with you. But for now, go back to sleep. It's morning," murmured Sachiko, as her own eyelids began to feel heavy. She was exhausted and didn't bother to change. She only loosened her collar and laid aside her cloak as she reclined to snuggle beside the drowsy vampire. They tucked in together, throwing a blanket around themselves.

The soeurs' hands embraced, fingers intertwining possessively.

"You smell like dew and rain," mumbled the immortal creature, staring fondly at her human mistress. "You didn't suffer even a dash of undead blood on your clothes. Typical!"

"Our world is ruled by men, and that's a sad fact – they aren't satisfied even if we give them our bodies or pledge our hearts. They will rest only when they hold our very throats, deciding on a whim whether we breathe or die. That pernicious greed, far deadlier than any vampire's thirst, is what lies behind their hateful kingship. But the secret, undying world behind this young epoch of modernity belongs to us. Us women," whispered Sachiko, stroking Yumi's hair. "I see this agelessness every time I lie down with you, Yumi. Every time you drink my blood, every time I feel you struggling to spare my throat, you show me the world that is my hunting ground."

She felt Yumi's hand stroking the scars on her fingers, the cuts she had inflicted on herself to feed Yumi. "So don't betray my heart, sweet demon. Don't play with my naked life, my irrational affection, my lonely goodwill."

Her long hair disheveled and her blouse askew, the vampire yawned, exposing her growing fangs contentedly as the huntress gave her forehead a tender, precious kiss. "My eternity is yours, onee-sama."

The year is 1902, the dawn of the 20th century. Modernization has swept across West and East alike, sparing few civilizations. The Anglo-Japanese Alliance, a treaty forged between the Japanese and British Empires, has been signed into effect. To the world, the treaty's objective is to safeguard their imperialist colonial interests. But a secret clause lies behind the contract. That is the mobilization of the Chinensis, Foetida, and Gigantea hunter guilds from Tokyo Lillian College.

It is the order to deploy against the horrific hordes of a hidden realm.

Meanwhile, in the warm apartment of Number 9 Lilyston Square, an adolescent vampire snores quietly by firelight, dreaming of romantic castles, cherry blossoms, elfin groves, friendly dragons, and her very own Huntress.

This is the story of Yumi and Sachiko's life together in the century of two tragic World Wars.

I hope you enjoy this new Marimite AU! (^o^)

Next chapter: Only women can give to each other a new sense of self. Another dream of Yumi's about her first encounter with Sachiko, and a new, sinister reinterpretation of the lovely Gigantea family.