I don't think he notices me.

But that's okay. Hardly anyone does.

Watanuki Kimihiro watched as a thin wisp of smoke trailed upwards, into the night sky. The eternally seventeen-year-old sat on his front porch like he did every night, unable to leave the store front. Unable to pass any further than the stone perimeter and gate that hit the edge of the sidewalk that lead out into the city. But that was all right. Watanuki had very little else to live for.

Over one hundred years had passed since he had first step foot into that little wish shop.

The same rules applied. Only those who had a wish could see the beautiful, traditional Japanese-styled store that sat atop a lush, emerald green yard. The peak of the roof held the moon and another, a beautiful star. They would see the path that led up to the door, to which they could find the answer to their problems.

Those without wishes?

All they saw was an empty, vacant lot, littered with trash.

###

Kiryuu Zero was one of those people.

It was another night that was lingering in the air. Watanuki was sitting on the porch, slender kiseru pipe in hand, bouncing an exposed leg on his knee to keep himself occupied. There was a fragile flute of strawberry wine sitting at his side. A full moon hung in the air.

A peaceful night.

The shopkeeper's golden-sapphire eyes stared out towards the gate. It was his only means of entertainment, really. The closest he could get to the outside world. Interesting people walked past the gate during the course of the day—salarymen, students in their school uniforms, gangsters, housewives... it had become habit for Watanuki to watch them from time-to-time.

Sometimes, people would look into the shop, as if wondering how it got there, and he would offer a small wave. But, most times, people just walked by, oblivious to its existence.

Really, everyone had wishes.

But the strongest were the ones that pushed through the magic sheltering the house from normal perception. Only the strongest were able to barge their way in, and see the gorgeous house that stood before them.

Even stronger still, were the ones whom were drawn into the building with no explanation other than, "For some reason... my feet just led me here."

"That's all right," Watanuki would say. "...Its hitsuzen."

The inevitable.

Tonight, as Watanuki released another whisper of flavored smoke into the air, did a familiar figure pass by.

Watanuki instantly perked up when he saw him. A tall young man with sleek, silver hair made his way down the sidewalk to pass the wrought iron bars that made up the gate to Watanuki's shop. He always wore the same expression on his face, but its hardness had changed over the course of the year in which he started noticing the young man. Before, the youth had walked in the sophisticated uniform of Cross Academy, a private school not too far from the shop. He used to go there... one hundred years ago. But it was nothing like it was now.

"Apparently," One specter spoke to him after Watanuki had granted a wish of theirs, "It is a school of vampires. At least... the ones in the white uniforms are. Vampires, that is."

Watanuki had watched him pass by in the pristine uniform... though he wore it a bit sloppily. That would of unnerved him, had he and the silver-haired youth been born around the same time. He would of yelled at him, screaming, flailing, about how untidy he was.

But he still looked nice in it.

Over the course of the year, the boy's look had grown colder. And now, it was frigid, like ice. The boy's smoldering eyes were not like molten bullets.

Watanuki knew he carried a gun on him. But for what purpose?

He found himself standing, this time. The silver-haired boy... perhaps he was a man now, with such cold eyes... was in a heavy trench coat. The shopkeep made his way across the yard, barefoot, before pausing at the gate.

Watanuki wanted to watch him pass by. He was his favorite sight, whenever the youth walked by the shop. With his handsome face, silver hair, and deep eyes, he caused a strange yearning inside of the raven-haired individual that he didn't know where to place.

Was it freedom?

The man had a satchel in hand. He walked, foot touching just at the edge of the gate. Watanuki waited for him to pass by as he usually did.

But he didn't.

The young man came to a sudden stop, and his head flicked to the side, eyes burning right back into Watanuki's who had his arms folded as he stood in the chill in merely his yukata. The shopkeeper's eyes widened, suddenly caught right in the silver-haired man's gaze.

He's staring right at me.

The man's gaze didn't waver.

...Can he see me?

Watanuki's lips parted, just briefly. A faint bit of air, white from the cold, escaped into the night sky. Golden-sapphire locked with molten silver.

"...Hm." Zero's gaze lifted from where he was staring intently at the partially opened iron fence. He looked up towards the empty plot of land. Dead grass. A shredded car tire. A sign that said, "VACANT. DO NOT TRESSPASS", hammered almost haphazardly into the crumbling dirt.

He had always passed by this lot, on his way back to his apartment. He noticed it, yes, but this was the first time that he truly noticed it. The lot was wedged in between two apartment complexes. Why did no one use it?

Not that it mattered.

But this time, as he walked passed it, he felt something. Zero's sharp eyes scanned the lot, peering deep into the shadows.

But nothing.

He stood there in quiet contemplation for a brief spell, before turning away from the vacancy. He was tired—but it would most likely be a night with little to no sleep. Zero headed off from the gate, and didn't look back.

Watanuki let out another breath of air as the man walked away.

He didn't see me.

The youth shopkeep didn't know if he was relieved...

...Or disappointed.

###

In all honestly, Watanuki didn't expect to see the silver-haired man so soon again after their last... encounter. It certain seemed that way to Watanuki. He had thought about it over the course of the day, wondering if the youth had somehow sensed his presence (perhaps it had been a fluke?). But eventually, his thoughts wandered to under things, such as cleaning out the basement area (he really needed to get around to it), as well as beating out the rugs in the house before everything got stuffy or filled with far too much dust.

For some reason, on this warm spring day, Watanuki decided to leave the task up to his two helpers, Maru and Moro. All three of them were outside, the yawn littered with a multitude of objects as Watanuki walked in and outside of his house, cleaning out the basement. He dusted, organized, boxed, packaged, wrapped, and ultimately created order from the chaos that had been allowed to pile over the past... well, one hundred years. Luckily, the rugs had last been out for dusting only a couple of months ago. Maru and Moro beat at them happily as Watanuki cleaned.

Watanuki had a snack, just a small one, to tide him over. He wasn't exceedingly hungry, and he didn't want to eat too much and feel too sleepy to continue with his cleaning.

But, by the time dusk rolled around, Watanuki was feeling proud of himself. Everything had been put away, a customer had been served, and everything was organized for the next one hundred or so years (at least until it had become a mess again). He was feeling so inclined, that, as he looked towards the blood red sunset, that he felt like a spot of red wine and some yakitori sounded like a delicious and quick reward for his hard work.

Watanuki started to make his way up the wooden step towards the inside of his shop, before he halted. The shopkeeper merely turned around, his cat-like eyes catching the setting sun as he looked towards the quiet street sidewalk at the edge of the iron gate.

Kiryuu Zero halted right in the middle of his walk to the grocery store.

The errand was necessary, and it was the only reason he was out. There was no way around it. He had officially been absent of food for almost a week. His fridge had become a barren wasteland that not even he could avoid, so the silver-haired Hunter shrugged on his trench coat and made his way to the corner store to pick up a few things.

It was during this trip, that he noticed it.

Its what made him pause.

Zero was observant, exceptionally so. There was no doubt in his mind that, as he gazed upon the beautiful, traditional Japanese building, that it had always been there, and he just didn't notice it. No. It had never been there before—not until now. He wasn't like the countless others that stared up in splendor at the building when it first appeared to them, gazing upon its glory. He just...

...Wondered...

How did it get there? Overnight?

Something wasn't right.

But that's when he felt it. There was a strange pull at the back of his knees. Zero didn't move—not at first. The silver-haired man stood as solid as a rock, but when the pull came again, he suddenly felt a surge of alertness enter into his body. He was being controlled.

How? Instantly, his hand gave a twitch, resting at his side—the shift of balance forced a foot forward—towards the iron gates. Molten silver eyes lit up at his right foot took another step forward, then another, then another, until he feet were on the path, in the yard. Zero's head swung left; no shredded tire. Swung right; an absence of the VACANCY sign he had taken notice of just the night before while passing this very area.

Then he looked up.

And that's then he saw him.

Watanuki stared back with large, expressive blue and yellow eyes. His red yukata with the white floral print and giant gold obi with the bow in front trailed down part of the wooden stairs that led up to the porch. His black hair was sleek and short, and tapered back against his pale, swan-like neck.

Zero came to a halt, merely feet away from the stairs. His eyes were narrowed, but he was finding it increasingly harder to keep the expression as such.

The boy in front of him, in his anciently-styled yukata, wasn't a vampire. That, at the very least, took off some of the edge. Zero's eyes looked him over, not that the strange pull that had dragged him onto the store grounds had relented... but he felt almost welded to the ground. The boy in front of him...

His scent was... off. Not in a bad way, just... different. From the raven-haired youth's looks alone, with his large eyes, soft face, and slender neck, he expected the usual, almost tart scent of something akin to a fruit that had yet to become ripe (of course, Zero was ashamed, in the back of his mind, he would think that about a person). However... the scent that did invade Zero's senses was completely different. He didn't know what it was, but it wasn't unpleasant.

And he couldn't get it out of his head.

The two-toned eyed boy's surprised look finally wore off, and he turned fully to face the Zero with a kind smile.

"Hello," The dark-haired youth greeted cordially, as if he was just used to people walking randomly into his yard. He was.

Zero didn't say anything at first, but he eventually did, as he couldn't very well just ignore the boy when he had walked into his yard... and couldn't seem to move on his own accord just yet. "Hey." Well, even the Hunter knew that one word wouldn't fly. "...How long have you been here?"

"Awhile," The yukata-clan youth admitted, his voice carefree. Zero felt his brows furrow the slightest, but his face remained virtually undisturbed.

"How long."

"Long enough for you to notice," The dark-haired man relented, his answers still vague. But he offered another smile. Zero opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, the young human(?) lifted a hand. "Its okay if you're unsure of why you came here.

"Regardless, it was hitsuzen."

Zero merely gazed back.

"Hitsuzen?"

"Fate. Destiny."

"I don't believe in that sort of thing."

"The inevitable."

Zero paused. The inevitable... that was something he could possibly relate to. Such as his slow descent into becoming...

"...It doesn't explain-"

"Come inside," And the boy turned away, exposing the nape of his swan-like neck. Zero felt a prick against the flesh of his tongue, but he ignored it. "My name is Watanuki."

The Hunter felt a twitch of his trigger finger.

"...Zero."

He didn't know how he wound up inside the house.

Its inevitable.

###

- End Part One -