Chapter Ten

Rei Kisaki waited for the setup. The volleyball went up in the air. Kisaki ran to the net, gathering herself. From the other side of the net, the 185cm middle hitter, Inoue Asashi, the best player on their team, rose up to block. Kisaki tensed her shoulders as she leapt into the air, drew back her hand, then struck. The spike echoed through the entire gym. As did the sound of the ball striking the floor. A beat later the referee's shout of "In! Set and match goes to Hosei University!"

The small crowd broke into cheers and Kisaki's teammates joined them, huddling up in a jumping, bouncing group embrace. The defeated Rikkyo team walked off, with looks of dejection, disappointment, and, in the case of the middle hitter, astonishment and disbelief. With this victory, Hosei just won the semis and would be onto the finals against Waseda. They were the number one team all season and would be tough, but they weren't unbeatable. Not with Kisaki playing against them.

The team met just outside the showers for congratulations from Coach Demigawa. He did his usual spiel about great teamwork bringing them to this level. That we were one win away from the first championship in 15 years. That the team would have to practice harder to triumph and all the usual nonsense coaches were supposed to spout off. But they all knew the real reason they had the turnaround season. And not a single one of them would say it out loud.

The other girls filed into take their showers, taking off their sweaty uniforms and dropping them in with the laundry. Kisaki did what she always did. She changed into her regular clothes in her locket, dropped her uniform in with the others, and headed out the back exit, eschewing the showers completely. She wasn't sweaty at all. She was scarcely winded. Which was hardly regular. During actual matches, Kisaki only played up getting tired for the benefit of others.
And they just accepted that she didn't use the public showers because she was too embarrassed to. If they knew the truth, things would only become more burdensome.

If Kisaki's "teammates" ever knew that she get tired…

No. There's no sense fretting over that. They've already said things behind Kisaki's back. Another bit of rumor would be just another little fish in the ocean grinding its teeth. Of no consequence.

"Heading home, Ms. Kisaki?" the coach said just as Rei had opened the door.

Demigawa was a small balding man with a small mind. If he would implement the a more flexible defensive scheme that alternates from zone to read blocking instead of just stiff ridged zone, they would be undefeated. "Yeah. I'll see everyone at practice," she said giving him a short bow.

He was silent and instant longer than usual. Then he inclined his head. "Alright then. See you there."

Demigawa didn't say it. He didn't have to. Kisaki could see it in his eyes. He was just like the others. Judging her, talking about her behind her back when they didn't think she could hear her, but still content to use her to further their own goals. It was enough to make the young woman wonder why she bothered.

She only joined the volleyball team to give her an outlet. An outlet for this…new found energy she's had the past six months. And it gave her an excuse for the changes in her body.

Kisaki was never a particularly large girl, her bust size notwithstanding, yet she was never rail thin either. She made sure she ate well and her active lifestyle made sure she was in average shape. But now, she hardly believed that firm, well toned person she saw in the mirror was her. She didn't think she had exercised enough to get a body like this. And even if she had, her thighs were thicker, her hips more shapely, adding more curve to her profile. Kisaki hadn't measured herself lately, but she was fairly certain she was an inch or two taller too.

To say this was all evidence of a bizarre change that should be concerning her, Kisaki hardly cared anymore. She just attributed this to some abnormal late adolescent, young adulthood growth spurt, though it didn't seem like a real answer. But, again, she didn't give those thoughts much attention. What really was bothering her was that it wasn't enough.

Kisaki had so much energy lately. It was why she could handle playing with the volleyball team and still all of her old responsibilities. She's gotten more done in the last few months than she ever thought possible. Her life had gotten a lot busier and more active. But it didn't help her sleep at night. She hardly slept at all now. But she never felt tired. She would only sleep a few hours at a time and even then it felt like indulging some old habit or tradition.

And to say nothing about how Kisaki's eating habits had changed. She craved red meat now. And the redder the better. The oblique glances she got when she'd walk into most restaurants and order the very rare stake annoyed her. So she didn't want her meat cooked completely through? How was that so unusual? Or maybe the stares were because she always ordered one of the largest size steaks the restaurants served and would clean the plate completely? Typically only men eat
that much, but still…

"Kisaki, please wait!" a familiar voice called from behind her, breaking into her thoughts.

Kisaki turned to see the mousy girl jogging through the crowd, clutching a book to her chest. Her face was beaded with sweat and she was panting. She must have run behind her. "Chizuka? What are you doing? Why are you following me?"

Chizuka flushed. "I-I'm not following you. Well, I am following you, but not it isn't because…I was only…simply…just…-"

Kisaki held up her palms. "Chizuka, stop. Calm down. Breathe deeply. And compose yourself."

Instantly, Chizuka listened and started straightening herself out. The speed and sheer compliance that Chizuka obeyed was a little comical. But Kisaki thought better of laughing in the poor girl's face. "Okay. Now, tell me what you wanted."

"I wanted to give you this." Chizuka held out the book. It had a red ribbon tied into a bow around it. "I brought you the book you asked me to borrow. I had my father send it over from home." She smiled.

Kisaki remembered. It was a book on Western mythology that Chizuka said belonged to her father. It was tough to find one with enough information that was in Japanese. Kisaki had tried researching on the internet, but often the information was taken second hand from other websites. And not reliable enough for her tastes. And her efforts often took her to obscure occult websites that had more information on vampires than what she was looking for. Besides, she wanted something physical in front of her for some reason.

Kisaki frowned. "Chizuka, I was just curious. I never actually said to let me borrow it."

The smile on Chizuka's face evaporated. She drew the book back. Kisaki could almost see her shrinking, like a dog from a master that just scolded her. "I-I'm sorry, Ms. Kisaki. I didn't mean to impose." She turned to leave.

"Wait," Kisaki said, though a part of her wanted to let Chizuka keep going. "I just didn't expect this, caught me off guard. It's okay."

"So," Chizuka said, looking like her eyes were a breath away from crying. "You'll take it then?"

"Sure. Appreciate it." Kisaki took the book from Chizuka and slipped it inside of her handbag where she kept her sketchbook, among other things. Truth was Kisaki had already bought a similar book off eBay. It had came in just the other day. It was in English, but Kisaki took more than a few English classes. She couldn't speak it very well, but she always scored high on the written and reading comprehension portions of exams. Progress had been sluggish with constantly having to consult translation dictionaries, but she would slowly pushing through it. At the very least, now she had two references.

Chizuka, having given Kisaki what she wanted, was just standing there now. The look on her face was as if she wanted to say or do something else, but couldn't or didn't know the words. Kisaki considered waiting for the girl to make up her mind, but she really wanted to get to her apartment. "Well, I'll see you at class." Kisaki said as she turned to leave.

Kisaki didn't see it, her back was turned, but she somehow knew that Chizuka had just made up her mind and was already stopping and looking back a split second before the mousy girl called out her name.

"Ms. Kisaki, please-ah!" She had started to walk after Kisaki, but Kisaki's bizarre anticipation threw her off again. Chizuka managed to recover quicker this time. "There's…something else…I wanted to talk to you about."

Kisaki's eyebrow quirked up slightly "Oh? And that is?"

Chizuka wouldn't make eye contact. Her gaze was dancing all over Kisaki's face. "It's about Mika and Ayase."

Kisaki snorted. "Let me guess, it's about the rumors they started, isn't it?"

Chizuka's eyebrows shot up. "What? You mean you know it's them?"

Kisaki rolled a shoulder. "Hardly takes a genius to figure out, Sakamura. They can't belittle me at that lunch table anymore, so they take to spread lies to the other students. And who doesn't love a juicy rumor about the rich girl?" she said, disgust and annoyance lacing her words.

"I don't," Chizuka said, her voice quiet, as if she weren't sure she should answer the rhetorical question or not.

"Hardly matters. They can accuse me of taking whatever drugs or hormones they want. Everyone knows only the Americans would use them. And I don't even have a clue where you'd find them. And putting something foreign into my body? The thought is ridiculous. And the side effects?" Kisaki shook her head, disgusted.

"You won't ever catch me getting a deeper voice or a hairy ass."

Chizuka made a little choking sound somewhere between a laugh and clearing her throat uncomfortably and her face went red. "No…ah…I told them…you wouldn't,"
she said quietly.

Despite herself, Kisaki pushed it. "You told them I wouldn't want a hairy ass?" she asked.

Chizuka's face turned so red, it looked like she was doing an impression of an angry yaoguai.

What the hell is a yaoguai?

"No! I mean…I…"

Kisaki showed the girl half a smile. "I know. I was only teasing." Then she started to feel a few eyes of passersby and middle aged men that always seemed to walk a little too close for comfort lately. "Let's go, Sakamura. I'll walk you back to the dorms. If we keep standing around, talking like this, people might think we're a couple or something."

Chizuka stood still for a moment with a very dumb look on her face before she blinked and fell in step behind Kisaki. "Okay."

They walked in near total silence until they reached the entrance to the dorms. Kisaki was about to say goodbye when Chizuka suddenly bowed and said, "Please forgive me."

Puzzled, Kisaki asked, "Uh. For what?"

Chizuka started looking everywhere but at Kisaki's eyes again. What was it with people and eye contact? "Since that day at lunch, everything about you started to change. You stopped sitting at the table, you wore your hair different, your grades improved so much. You weren't the old you anymore, it seemed.

"And when you started playing volleyball, when you had never displayed any interest in sports, let along the notion of being very good at them. I wasn't sure what to think. But…then Ms. Ayase and Ms. Mika started saying those things about you. And I …" She swallowed. "…actually started to believe them. I began to doubt you. Please accept my apologies." She bowed again.

"Why? Why would you think that?"

"You had changed so drastically…and you even seemed - you are taller. Even your facial features changed a bit. And…I saw your games. All of them. I never
knew you were so…" Chizuka looked away, as if ashamed of what she had to say. "…gifted."

Kisaki had to admit that about herself. She never knew she could do those things either. She'd even done multiple interviews from news stations and some of her larger games got regional coverage in the news, something previously unthinkable in a country dominated by baseball and association football. The championship game would be She'd already been contacted about trying out for the Olympics team. She didn't know if she wanted to accept the invitation though. She didn't care much for Beijing. Of course, it would be rude not to, so she have to accept. But there's nothing impolite about not answering the invite until after playoffs have ended.

But even more than that, Kisaki knew for a fact that she was right. She had gotten a few inches taller, it wasn't something she'd imagined. Which she couldn't explain, but, again, she could only figure it was some bizarre late growth spurt. And her facial features were different? If that's true, why hadn't Kisaki herself noticed?

"And I didn't know much about what steroids or this growth hormone could do to a person's body. I actually began to think that they had done something to your body. But…hearing you talk about them. There's no doubt in my heart now. But I should've never doubted your integrity. " And with that she bowed once more and stayed there. "Please, forgive me. I'll do everything in my power to make it up to you."

Kisaki looked at the girl for a moment in silence. Then turned and walked away. She walked just enough steps, somehow able to anticipate Chizuka's distressed reaction and cutting it off just before it surfaced. "You're making too big a deal of this, Sakamura," Kisaki called over her shoulder. "You don't need to beg my forgiveness because it more than justified doubt to jeopardize a friendship. See you later."

Kisaki probably shouldn't have used that word, friendship, but she didn't know any other words to say. Without turning around, she could tell that somehow, saying they were friends made Chizuka smile.

Chizuka's voice called out to her just before was out of sight. "Ms. Kisaki! I'll be rooting for you against Waseda! I hope you…" She paused, fumbling over the words. "Kika der ass!" She called out in broken English.

Again, despite herself, a small smile made its way to Kisaki's face as waved over her shoulder and left the beaming classmate behind to float, light footed step after step, into the dorm doors.

Then a thought started drifting through Kisaki's mind and the smile vanished as swiftly as Chizuka's had earlier.

How could Kisaki hear Chizuka's light footsteps so clearly from so far away?

Kisaki went straight to her apartment. It was a nice place on the eighth floor in the same building and same floor as the apartment her father stayed in when he attended Hosei. It wasn't very different from her old dorm room, but she wanted to live off campus, away from it all. It was another thing she'd felt compelled to do.

On the second floor landing, two men with movers uniforms walked past. One flashed her a goofy smile and said good evening. Kisaki murmured a response, not looking at him. She was going to think nothing of it as she stepped out of the stairwell onto her floor when a third mover walked by and she noticed Mrs. Uchiyama, her elderly neighbor was poking her head out of the door. She was looking down at all the commotion from down the hall. A mess of boxes cluttered the hallway and she could see two more movers taking boxes in and out of the room. It was eight doors down on the right, same side of the hall as Kisaki's. Room 820, the largest in the whole complex. Kisaki knew the room well.

It was her father's old room.

In fact, the only reason Kisaki was down the hall from the room instead of in her father's room was someone had bought the room several months prior, but didn't bother moving in yet. Kisaki remembered feeling mild annoyance at that, but had completely forgotten about it.

As Kisaki made her way to her room she noticed that Mrs. Uchiyama was huddling with half of her body behind the door, an odd, scared look on her face.

"Mrs. Uchiyama, is everything alright?" Kisaki asked.

The widow jumped. "Oh! Young Kisaki, I didn't see you there."

She didn't know Kisaki standing three feet away? She knew Mrs. Uchiyama's vision was getting worse with old age, but that would make her borderline legally blind. "Is everything alright?" Kisaki repeated. "You look a little pale. None of those men said anything to you did they?"

"Oh, my, no. It's not that…it's…" Mrs. Uchiyama finally took her eyes off the activity and gave a worried glance to Kisaki. "You haven't seen the new tenant yet, have you?"

Kisaki shook her head. "I haven't. But if the boxes and six movers are any clue, he or she is well off."

"It's a he. And he might be well off…if all of that isn't stolen, that is," Mrs. Uchiyama murmured.

Kisaki hid a smile. "Stolen? What do you mean? He's not Yakuza, is he?"

The elderly woman absently rubbed her lips and chin, her eyes deep with worry. "I don't think the Yakuza use men like that," she said. "But they could. Do be careful, young Kisaki. I hear those types of men are so insatiable when it comes to women. Especially to a beauty like you. And he's so, so tall. I've never seen a man so tall before."

Kisaki frowned as she walked to her door. "Um. I'll do that. But I really think you might be overreacting. Try not to worry yourself sick over it. He could be-"

Mrs. Uchiyama let out pathetic squeal, hissed "Get inside. Quickly!" and pulled her head inside the door, but didn't shut it all of the way.

Before Kisaki could say or do anything, drifting down the hall, Kisaki heard a deep, chest resonating voice and heavy approaching footsteps. She looked at the sound and it stopped her heart cold.

Time slowed to a crawl.

Kisaki was a little tall for a Japanese woman, but this man was tall for anything, his head very nearly scraping the ceiling of the hallway. His skin was dark, the color of dark wood like cherry wood or mahogany. His arms were thick and muscular. His hands were nearly two of Kisaki's. And he carried himself with a smooth, grace, power, and confidence. His heavy boots thumping a constant rhythm.

And his face was…

Dear God.

There was no doubt. Kisaki didn't know how or why, but this was the one. This was the man she'd drawn. And he was more beautiful in person than in her imagination.

What should Kisaki do? Should she introduce herself? Should she just smile at him? Just stare blankly with her mouth open limply like she was doing? She tried frantically to come up with something as he She could hardly think. Her heart was pounding. Her hands were clammy. Her mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton balls, making the thought of actually speaking a pathetically impossible notion. She felt embarrassed, excited, exhausted, confused, and even…

Oh, goodness. If Kisaki didn't have a light jacket covering up her breasts then you could see her…

Before Kisaki could figure out what to do, he was right there in front of her. And time completely stopped for that bare instant. The tall beautiful man had been discussing something with what appeared to be the foreman of the moving crew. It was impossible to see his eyes from the front. His eyes were hidden behind rimless sunglasses. But as he passed in front of her, she saw them. His eyes. Piercing brown eyes. And they were looking straight at her.

Kisaki didn't dare to breathe.

Those eyes from so high up looked down upon her with naked regard. The look appeared to be without malice or any such strong feelings. He looked at her as if she were simply something that was in his field of vision that caught his eye. As if he was taking silent, disinterested notice of her very existence. And in doing so, validated that existence in and of itself. And nothing more.

But it was an expertly woven illusion. Something greater smoldered beyond his eyes. He was making a detailed note of her. Her height, her weight, facial features, what she was wearing, the scent of her perfume, and other small details about her. He wasn't doing it with any particular intent. It was automatic for him. So glorious. Everyone he looked at would receive the same treatment. It was a part of his predatory nature to take the instant measure of any new being around him was ingrained into him. Everyone he met wasn't his prey. But they could be. Or they could be a threat to him. So magnificent. For him, after a lifetime of-

Kisaki blinked.

The frozen moment ended and the man continued down the hallway, eschewing the elevator like Kisaki had and taking the stairs. And was gone.

She didn't even realize she had slumped against the door all the way to the floor until Mrs. Uchiyama, bathing robe firmly about her shoulders, shook Kisaki from her mindless stupor.

Kisaki gaped blankly at the woman. "Wha…?"

"I said it's okay now, young Kisaki. He's gone. It was quite a shock to me as well the first time I saw him. But we're safe now," she soothed, more to herself than Kisaki. "Now hurry. On your feet and get inside before he comes back."

Fumbling for her room key with shaking fingers and moving with a kind of weightlessness. "Yeah," Kisaki mumbled. "Inside."

"Oh and you look flushed. You're not taking ill, are you?" asked the concerned woman, pressing the back of her hand to Kisaki's forehead.

"No. I'm fine," Kisaki replied, her voice distant. She stepped inside and started to shut the door when the old woman placed her hand on it.

"And please, be careful. Try to stay away from him, if you can help it," she warned.

Did the old biddy think Kisaki was her daughter now? Kisaki forced out a smile. "Sure. Good evening, Mrs. Uchiyama." She shut the door before the woman could answer. But she'd already made up her mind.

She was going to find out everything she could about this man. And she'd start with his name.

Lost him again.

Frustrated, Rei Kisaki sank back into the seat of the taxi cab as the driver took her back to her apartment. It had been a familiar feeling over the past few weeks. While she was getting better each time, the result didn't change. However with each time, along with the frustration came with a mischievous kind of glee. The whole thing was scary but at the same time exciting to be doing this. She felt like a secret agent in one of those American movies. Hopping in a cab and saying "follow that car" was so cliché but that made it so much fun in its own way.

But maybe Kisaki should call this for what it is. She's less of a secret agent, and more of the typical anime style secret admirer watching her crush from afar. All that was missing was the locker room love note confession. But then again, those kind of admirers would be following a fellow student. Not an African-American stranger. And in some ways it was still a little like she was some kind of secret agent kind of deal. Perhaps that was primarily because of him.

If Kisaki hadn't seen it with her own eyes she wouldn't believe someone so tall, someone that would stick out of a crowd could ever get lost in a crowd. Or get out of car, turn a corner, and disappear from sight on a virtually empty side lane. Not once had she been able to find out where he's going all the time, but she at least knew it was somewhere close by, and it required him to wear the exact same suit. She also knew it was relatively close. And she couldn't be sure, but she thinks he was wearing an earpiece. But it might've been one of those wireless phone headset things.

At the very least, she did manage to find out his name. It proved to be disappointingly simple. Kisaki just tracked down the moving company he used and pretended she represented the landlord of the apartment. And asked a few questions about their operation, pretending to be an overly suspicious landlord checking the validity of a foreign tenant. "Can't be too careful with who you let into your condo," Kisaki had said, trying her best to mimic the tone of Mrs. Uchiyama.

Kobe. Like the city.

She'd heard the name over and over again since her family is from that area, but now, it was one of the most beautiful names she'd ever heard.
Kisaki had just laid her hand on the side entrance when the double doors burst open. Only her reflexes and agility saved her from getting bashed the face by the swinging metal doors as she jumped to the side, nearly falling into the small bit of landscaping. Two men, slightly younger in appearance than Kisaki, stormed by. They were arguing.

"- picks this dump?" one of them with spiky, green tipped hair grumbled. He was wearing a leather jacket, a white shirt, and dirty, grungy jeans. He was a bit on the stocky side. "I hate the smell of this place. It smells like broken dreams and old people."

The other one scoffed. He was taller, lankier, but he was a bit more toned than average. His head was shaven bald and he had a stud piercing under his bottom lip. He decided against wearing an undershirt of any kind and just wore a similar leather jacket. His chest was crisscrossed with large tattoos that Kisaki couldn't make out. "He can live where he wants. Who cares what it smells like? Let's hurry up and get a bite to eat. I'm starving."

They didn't even noticed what they'd done. Like Kisaki wasn't even there. Anger shot through Kisaki's body. "Hey!"

Both of them stopped and turned at the same instant. The motions were…odd somehow. Like they moved by doing less actual motions than they necessarily should've, as if they were standing on ice instead of cement. But Kisaki quickly pushed thoughts on that out of her mind.

"Eh?" the shorter one said. Then he looked Kisaki up and down with a dirty leer. "My, my. Check out the hottie, bro."

"Hottie is right. Can we…" His brother gave the same dirty leer and took a step towards her. "…help you?"

A small part of Kisaki's mind screamed that she should turn and run inside. But a larger part of her mind wasn't listening. "Yes. You can apologize for nearly hitting me with the door."

They both gaped, their likely drug addled brains not able to follow. "We can…what now?" the stocky one said.

Kisaki rolled her eyes. "You nearly struck me with the door when you so rudely burst through it."

They stared at her for a moment. Then one started to laugh. The other joined him. "You're kidding, right?" the spiky haired one choked out.

The anger that welled up inside Kisaki grew. "No. I am not."

"Uh oh. I think she's getting mad," the spiky haired one chortled.

Again, the ball of anger inside swelled and grew. Her voice took a hard edge. "Now. Apologize."

Their smiles faded. The bald one's nostril's flared. "I don't think I like your tone, bitch," he rasped. His narrowed glare stretched between them and Kisaki looked into his eyes for the first time. They were they were yellow. A bright yellow. Like they were glowing.

A cold tingle crawled up the back of Kisaki's neck, it made her shiver unintentionally. She turned to motion into curt flick of her hair from her eyes, as if she were unintimidated to the point of indifference a total lie. The motion, just for an instant, took her eyes off the two delinquents and-

They were standing barely one foot away from her. Kisaki froze.

They had to have been at least 12 feet away before, and covered the space in a bare second. How did…

No. That wasn't the question she should be asking. What she should be asking is why is she now facing the front entrance? Why are they closer to the entrance than they had been before? And why are the two delinquents staring at her like that?

They traded glances. The spiky haired one jerked his head towards Kisaki and the bald one nodded. A low bubbling growl came from their chests as they snarled, baring sharper than normal teeth. They started circling her, going opposite directions. They were hunched over, fists clenching in and out.

A tiny part of Kisaki's mind wanted her to scream, cry out for help, but she was calm and didn't even turn her head to track them. She followed them with her eyes.

"I didn't see her move. Who is she?" the bald one said to the other, somehow throwing his voice and speaking so rapidly, Kisaki knew she shouldn't be able to hear and understand him. It should sound like a hiss if like anything at all, but she could understand perfectly.

"I don't know," the spiky haired one answered, throwing his voice the same and just as rapidly. "Is she part of that shinjo group?"

"Maybe. But I thought they were all casters. He never said anything about being able to move that fast."

"I think we'd better…wait. Can she understand us?"

"Yes." Kisaki threw her voice the same way they did. She didn't know how she did it. "Are you ready to apologize now? I'm growing tired of your flea bitten stench."

"You bitch," baldy snarled. He lunged, unnatural speed and power hurtling towards Kisaki.

When Kisaki moved, she felt it this time. She twisted. Her arm cocked back, like she was about to throw a slap or some open handed blow-for all the good that would do-when the bald delinquent stopped dead in his tracks. His eyes gone wide. Kisaki could see the other one out of the corner of her eye. He was frozen in place, mid lunge too, wide eyed.

Neither were staring at her.

"I suggest you apologize," said a deep, basso voice in perfect Japanese from behind Kisaki.

Kisaki's heart leapt in her chest as fear and excitement coursed through her, again, she didn't dare move.

The bald one just peered dully at the spiky haired one who licked his lips, thinking of some course of action, then bowed deeply. The other looked from his companion to Kisaki and back, then he did the same. "Forgive us, please," they both said in unison.

"Go," the voice rumbled with no particular anger or malice. It was a simple order. The delinquents immediately turned and ran away, not uttering another word.
Kisaki was stiff as a board. She had to look. She couldn't keep her back to him. She just had to turn to face him. Kisaki willed every fiber of her being into legs, desperate not to faint again. Yes. She could do this. She'd practiced what she'd say the first time she met him over and over again. She mustered up her will, took a deep breath and turned.

He wasn't there.

Kisaki looked around and only saw pedestrians that had come to see what the commotion was. Not wanting her face to be associated with anything that might cause her trouble later on, Kisaki hurried inside the apartment building. She didn't stop until she'd made it to her front door.

Kisaki had just gotten her key out. She hesitated. Her door was open. Not just unlocked, but cracked open. She should've ran away. Called the cops. Gotten help. But the thought of some bastard sneaking in her room pissed her off.

Holding her purse in her hand, ready to bludgeon any intruder, Kisaki walked right in. The lights were out. Her steps were quiet, rolling smoothly over the carpet. She went in a low, hunched walk, ready to spring into action whoever she saw. She flicked on the light. No one was there. At least, not in her den. Or her small kitchen. She walked into her bedroom and flicked on another light.

The purse slipped from her fingers and fell to the floor, its contents spilling out.

There he was. In her bedroom. Sitting on her chair at her desk, long legs straight out and crossed in front of him. Casually reading a book.

He didn't look up from it, turning pages every few seconds. The book looked so small compared to his large hands. As did the chair he sat in. It occurred to her that for him to be sitting like that it meant he had been sitting in near complete dark save for a sliver of moonlight coming through a crack between her drawn curtains.

Kisaki lost track of time as she just stared mindlessly at him. She didn't know how long she stayed like that. It could've been a few seconds or a few hours.

She just knows that it ended when he snapped the book closed. Kisaki saw exactly what book it was. It was the Western mythology book that Sakamura lent her.

"This book," he murmured finally. "is almost complete garbage."

Kisaki licked her lips nervously. Well, she could completely throw out all of that practice she did in the event she ever bumped into him at some point. It's hard to strike up casual conversation with a total stranger when he's sitting in your bedroom uninvited.

But Kisaki would be damned if she didn't try. "Almost? I think it's rather good."

He snorted. "Hardly. It's the account of beings as told by Hollywood. The common human doesn't even know where the legends come from. Generations of being filtered through ignorant mouths have almost completely destroyed the original tales. It's to the point where you can hardly call what they speak by the same names."

Kisaki blinked. How did he speak such perfect Japanese? Incredible. "I don't understand."

For the first time, the man's eyes flicked over to her. "No, I suppose you wouldn't." He stood up, his just barely avoiding scraping the ceiling. He spread his arms. "Here I am, Ms. Rei Kisaki." He said her name deliberately as it were false. "I don't like having a shadow that isn't mine. So, if you had some reason in particular to follow me around, tell me now."

Kisaki's heart leapt in her chest. He did know she was following him. "I...I…"

He stepped closer. "Who do you represent? Are you with the crow? An emissary from Atago? Let's get this over with. Be quick about it. I've got things to do." He frowned a bit. "And you can drop the scared little girl act. It's demeaning."

Kisaki shook her head. "I…I'm sorry…I…have no idea what you're talking about."

"What?" His brow furrowed as he stared at her. Then he reached up and lifted her chin with his bent finger. And he pressed his face in close to hers. So close. Kisaki's legs suddenly felt rubbery.

He took one long sniff. Then his eyebrows rose as he backed away. "Son of a bitch," he swore in English. "You're telling the truth. You're not with…anyone."

"Uh. I'm sorry. I don't understand." Kisaki stammered, feeling like a total moron. She knew she had no reason to, but whatever he thought she was, she wished desperately that it was true. Whatever he was involved in, it didn't sound like yakuza. It became obvious to Kisaki that the world this man, this Kobe, was a part of, it was completely different from the one she was in now. Kisaki's world was one where where people would mill about aimlessly, filling into predetermined slots, into their little life roles. But this man was something else. He came from a different part of existence.

This man's world was one of possibilities. Of mystery. Of freedom.

He said under his breath in English she didn't catch. Then in Japanese he asked, "Why were you following me?"

Kisaki bowed deeply. "Forgive me, sir. I was…" She swallowed in a suddenly dry throat. "I was…" She didn't know how to finish it. What could she say? She was obsessed with him? She needed to…she needed to…

A sudden spark of hope.

"I needed to know something," Kisaki said, lifting her head. Her voice was suddenly clear and sharp.

The large, dark man raised an eyebrow at, tilting his head slightly. "And that is?"

"Seven months ago, I was attacked by group of thugs on a train late at night," Kisaki began. "They attacked and hit me over and over. I tried to resist, but they were too strong and I felt so weak and I hurt so much. They were going to rape me. No one else would help me because they were afraid. It was a nightmare. I didn't know what to do, what to think, except that I couldn't imagine a worse experience. I truly wanted nothing more than to be dead.

"But then, someone saved me. Rescued me from my moment of absolute despair. My nightmare became a dream straight out of fantasy as through my foggy mind I saw the thugs being completely crushed by some tall, dark figure. And then I was flying over rooftops, wrapped in warmth and the most pleasant aroma. I didn't hurt anymore. It was so…wonderful. And just like that…I was standing in front of a hospital, disoriented and confused. I didn't know how I got from the train to the hospital then. But I think that I always knew deep down."

The man, Kobe, only stood in silence. His expression unreadable.

"It was you." Kisaki said. A statement in full confidence. "You were on that train that day. You stopped those thugs and took me to the hospital."

He didn't answer for a long moment. Then leaned against the wall, folding his arms as he closed his eyes and said quietly, "They weren't only raping you. They were going to drain your essence. They were hiruoni, leech demons. No one else helped you because of their fear inducing miasma. They were too terrified to even move, let alone help you."

Kisaki blinked. "Oni? You mean they're…"

"Very real. And very annoying."

"And you?" Kisaki's body began to shake in excitement. She thought of the picture of him she drew and the subject she'd been so interested in over the last months. And that paw print in the snow. "Are you a…werewo-"

Kobe's head snapped up, a hard look on his face. "Don't you dare call me a werewolf," he snapped.

Kisaki flinched. "I'm sorry. Why?"

He scoffed. "Thanks to Hollywood and popular culture, you say werewolf the first thing everyone thinks of is a half-man, half-wolf freaks that howl at the
moon. Those things aren't even close. Just like in that book. They get all these stupid ideas of turning into one being something that happens by a bite or only under a full moon. Pathetic. Can't even stand to call that notion the same thing."

"So…what do you call yourself?"

Kobe suddenly stiffened for bare second, an expression almost like a person that's been caught doing something they shoot flashed over his face so fast, Kisaki wasn't sure it was ever there. But the way it made him look, it made Kisaki want to smile, seeing someone so large, mysterious, and powerful look emotionally susceptible.

It harkened to a persona within the gruff, tough veneer that he upheld. One that was reachable. Another spark of hope came to life.

"Me? I don't call myself anything but a simple business man that doesn't like to be followed." He showed her his perfect white teeth in a look too aggressive to be called a smile. Kisaki felt herself shiver. "Sharing my opinion on your book. Nothing more." Then he stopped leaning on the wall and walked past her, dipping his head to get under the door frame. Her door frame.

"Now wait just a minute," Kisaki said in a tone similar to the one she used on those thugs earlier, but far more…playful. He stopped and looked over his shoulder. "You break into my room, read my books, sit in my comfy chair, all without my permission, and you think you just get to walk back out as you please? That's a crime."

He said nothing.

"After this, I think I am owed some sort of restitution," Kisaki said, lifting her chin.

"You followed me, stalked me. That's a crime too. I owe you nothing," he growled.

Kisaki folded her arms. "And I'd love to see how you'd go about proving that. I never got within fifty meters of you. No one saw us together. Not to mention, who would believe you? Me stalking you? Why?" Kisaki gave him a grin similar to the one he gave her earlier. "Where as all it would take is for me to yell as loud as I can. The whole floor would hear me. Mrs. Uchiyama in particular wouldn't require much convincing."

He turned to face her, his face grave. "You think you can blackmail me?" His voice went into a low rumble that Kisaki could almost feel in her bones. "I could stop you from shouting in over a dozen different ways and be back in my room before anyone even knew I was here. And I could make it look like natural causes. So go ahead. Try me."

Kisaki didn't know how she didn't faint again, but she faced him levelly, her voice calm and collected. "I'm most certain you can. But you won't."

"And why's that?"

"Because you're just as curious to what I am as I am about you," Kisaki said, instantly not knowing where the hell that sentence came from.

His eyes narrowed.

Kisaki's mind started swimming. It felt like her body was on cruise control as thoughts became words. "You saved me again earlier today. When those punks attacked me by the entrance. I don't know how you did it, but you scared them off. But you were up here the whole time, weren't you? Watching me. You saw me countering their movements. That's why you thought I was in some mysterious group. And you can hardly try to pretend like you weren't being completely serious earlier. You have some reason to hide what you are, even though I think it's obvious. That's okay. You don't need to tell me anything." The mental activity faded and Kisaki got a hold of herself. She shook her head, both to clear out the weird feeling and because of else she had to say. "But I don't know what I am or what I did down there. Something happened to me after that day on the train. And you had something to do with it. I'm sure of it."

He raised an eyebrow.

"So, Mr. Kobe, in exchange for keeping your little intrusion a secret, I want your help in figuring out what's happening to me." She extended her hand to the giant of a man. "Deal?"

He stared at her hand, hovering in the air before him, for another long moment. Then his lip quirked up in a smile. And he clasped his gargantuan hand over hers. They were surprisingly soft and gentle. "Fine. I accept." Then he turned and headed for the door. He paused, turnings his ear towards the door for a second and Kisaki just knew that he was listening to see if anyone was out in the hallway.

Because Kisaki could hear out in the hallway too. No one was there. Except for that rat scurrying under the floor. Suddenly, Kisaki felt famished.

Kobe cracked open her door, then turned his head to her one last time. "And for the record," he said as he slipped on his sunglasses. "The proper word is lycantrope."