Happy New Year and welcome to 2019! Wishing all of my readers a wonderful upcoming year. We've passed TWOFT's second anniversary as well. It's been a pleasure to come to know you all. Thank you for your continuing encouragement, patience and support!
I've received so many wonderful suggestions for the new baby's name that I've decided to name Takuma's baby using your suggestions as well. Please drop any more suggestions you have in the comments before next chapter.
XL. Grave of Sovereigns
Kaname slides a golden cufflink through his sleeve as though impaling an enemy, then folds his cuff down with a viciously precise twist of his wrist. Soon to receive the same treatment, its mate sits on the counter beside a lapel pin of similar design, the nine orchid kamon imprinted on its surface buffed spotless and shining.
Something has been set free in her husband. Yuuki can't quite put her finger on what, because she's seen him angry and threatened, and this is different. Similar, but more distant: older, deeper, flowing unrestrained. Their bloodbond is volatile - a well of pure will, freezing and sinking and razor sharp.
Yuuki is slightly concerned - or she would be, if she hadn't already shot past that stage when she learned thousands of people were dead and the vampire world is in danger of discovery. "Kaname, where are we going?" she asks as she drops her day dress into the laundry, asking more out of habit than curiosity.
Her husband smooths his hands down his waistcoat - a beautiful thing, woven with a subtle pattern that makes the colors shift like bloodwine swirled under candlelight - then tucks away his pocket watch on its chain. "To the Hunter's Association first. I must allow time for the Senate to get out of our way."
"And then?" Yuuki asks, yanking a brush through her hair as quickly as she can.
A cold light enters his eyes, and Kaname smiles mirthlessly. "I have not played our game to this stage, only to see the board upended now."
There is a great darkness at his back, carrying him forward. Yuuki dimly receives the impression of a shadowy creature looming above her, and shudders like a claw has run down her back. This is worse than his anger. This is a clear sky as a typhoon bears down on the coast, a high and towering fury crackling just out of sight.
Yet she is not afraid. Yuuki knows that fury will pass over her without ruffling a single hair on her head.
"What should I wear?" she asks, settling on a more innocuous question.
Resplendent in his black three-piece suit lined in blood-colored silk, her husband considers his reply. "Something unquestionably modern, that will also proclaim our nature to those with the knowledge to see."
Yuuki's anxiety is too tightly wound to parse Kaname's cryptic hints. "A dress?"
Kaname chuckles. "Yes. Something that will satisfy human tastes but remains appropriately vampiric. A little theatrically will serve us well. And add gold jewelry - it wouldn't hurt to remind of our position."
She nods, heading to her closet, already having something in mind. The red one trimmed in black - red to match Kaname - with the uncomfortable stiff collar, deep neckline, and puffed sleeves, and those black lace cuffs that fall over the backs of her hands.
But before she can leave, Kaname catches her hands, kneeling down before her. "My dear, permit me a discourteous request. Tonight, I ask that you allow me to speak for both of us, and follow my lead. I mean no insult to your abilities. Your political skills have grown by leaps and bounds, but you are still new to such matters, and in such a delicate situation I have the greater experience."
Yuuki doesn't need Kaname to tell her she's in over her head. It stings her pride, but she's relieved she doesn't have to hold sole responsibility for fixing this. "Is whatever you're planning going to endanger you?"
"Nothing is without risk," Kaname replies a little too calmly.
Yuuki chews her lip. Sometimes you have to be direct when Kaname uses too many chess metaphors. "Are you planning on sacrificing yourself?"
Kaname's lips twist, and his chin lifts in contempt. "For such a small thing? Hardly."
Yuuki considers this, then shrugs. "Then go ahead, but you're not leaving me behind. And you're explaining everything to me later."
"But of course," Kaname replies, still on his knees before her. "I intend for this to be a lesson of what you'll be capable of in the future."
Even with her stomach knotted in worry, Yuuki likes the sound of that.
A bomb going off outside headquarters would have caused less panic.
Zero is sequestered with the Lead Hunters when his Hunter senses flare, and a pair of black suns descend on their doorstep.
He is tearing through the halls before he can think, heart in his throat. Why are they here? Was Rosehill attacked? Does Kaname have some plan, or is there more misfortune to share?
"Hunter Kiryuu!"
Zero jerks free of the hand on his arm and keeps running, because no one is permitted to touch him except his spouses, and they are waiting for him outside
Skidding to a stop outside the entry hall, the Hunter is cognizant of a crowd gathered inside, the hum of anxiety and raised voices. Cross and Master Yagari are already present as Zero begins pushing through the crush toward the outer doors. Once the Hunters realize who he is, they begin parting around him, leaving the bubble of space that Zero remembers - he's the lone vampire in the room, always trapped at the periphery.
Clenching his teeth and nodding to Master, Zero steps past the threshold, the Co-presidents at his back. Behind them, the crowd spills over the landing and the steps, right down to the boundary line of the wards themselves, leaving a wide arc of space around their visitors.
Kaname is waiting for him, Yuuki at his shoulder, both dressed like blood and midnight and showing off their deadly elegance without shame, all their vivid pureblood beauty praised by the stars. Yuuki is shaken but strong, bearing up with her bravery, but Kaname -
Zero's intuition leaps at him, overtaking him in a sudden rush, and Zero halts, looking down.
That look on his husband's face...that isn't Kaname, not his Kaname. This is something far older, steeped in cruelty and ruthlessness and madness.
When the Ancestor of the Kuran meets Zero's eyes and smiles, his fangs gleam in the faint light.
Heart in his throat, Zero descends the steps. Each footfall sets off a shockwave in his chest. Is he afraid? Is this regret?
Above him, Zero vaguely realizes that Cross and Master have come to a stop half-way down, leaving Zero to continue alone. He runs out of strength after the last step, the wards a paper-thin barrier between Kaname and himself - he could reach out and brush a black wool sleeve, the porcelain skin of his husband's cheek.
"Kuran-san," - Zero jerks, because he's never before heard Cross give Kaname that honorific - "to what do we owe the honor?"
Kaname makes no gestures of respect, only tips his head to the side. "Presidents of the Hunters' Association. I thought it courteous to inform you in person. I will be handling our current situation personally."
"Personally?" Cross' voice rises, and a ripple passes through the crowd. Zero's eyes dart to Yuuki, who nods infinitesimally.
Zero lowers his gaze uneasily to the ground. That's - that's like crushing a tick with a sledgehammer. It's always a sign of great forces moving when a pureblood takes an interest. For Kaname, the ancient Original King and last of the Ancestors to take action…
Kaname makes no sign to show he's caused such a stir. The polite, slightly amused lift of his mouth never wavers. "Yes. The Senate has proved inadequate to the task."
And they're going to hate that, Zero knows. The Senate will fight Kaname even harder, even more bitterly. This is the first open rift between them, Kaname showing off how effortlessly he can usurp them with barely a word. Zero's power strains, spinning out potential futures in front of his eyes. More conflict, a new stage of enmity - open war between the monarchist faction and the Senate.
Cross is a little pale under his glasses. Vampire conflicts always spill over into Hunter domains. There'll be trouble for all of them in the future. "I see. A conversation for another time. You are confident you'll succeed?"
The darkness in Kaname's eyes could swallow up the night. "I never rely on just one fail-safe, President Cross."
Zero fights the urge to draw his husband back out of whatever pit in his head he's sunk into.
"There is one more thing, before I go," Kaname says, the easy tone of his voice taking a blade's edge. "My wife and I will be occupied for the next few days. I ask that my Consort be sheltered here behind the Association's wards until I return to claim him."
Master's expression looks thoughtful for some reason, while Cross's face hardens. "Shall I assume, Kuran-san, that if anything happens to Zero-kun something equally terrible will happen to us?"
Just for a split second, both his spouses twist into fury, then Kaname carefully paints his mask back on. "That would be a reasonable assumption, President Cross, but it seemed unnecessary to mention. I would hate to burn this place to the ground and salt the earth where it once stood."
"We'll take care of Zero," Master Yagari promises over the crowd's angry hisses, speaking for the first time. He's not relaxed, but neither is he stern like Cross. Zero blinks - when has Master ever trusted Kuran Kaname?
"Thank you," Kaname replies respectfully, furthering Zero's confusion.
Yuuki opens her arms hopefully, and without thinking Zero steps through the wards into her embrace as the remnants of his taming brand tingle. She pulls him down and kisses him hard enough to make his mouth bruise.
"Be safe," he begs her. Yuuki only kisses him harder in reply. "Don't let him lose himself," he whispers only for her ears, and her arms tighten around him before gently pushing him away.
Then Kaname catches him up, cradling the back of his head and taking Zero's mouth like he owns it. Zero forgets how to breathe until his husband releases him, head spinning from the lack of air.
For a moment, Zero regrets not having sex with them in so long. At least then he'd have that sharp ache in his core and bruised hips to cling to while they're gone, their touch pressed into his skin. Later, the Hunter promises himself. He'll tend to them properly when they're finished - he'll make a holiday of it, refuse to leave their bed until he's too sore to walk and can't.
Perhaps his resolution shows in his face, because Kaname softens, here in this place, even in front of all these watching Hunters. The pureblood takes Zero's hand, pressing a gentle, worshipful kiss to his palm like Zero is a novel heroine. Zero's heart flutters. The Ancestor of the Kuran has endured millennia of loneliness, yet he finds Zero worthy of bending his pride for.
Another ripple passes through their watchers. Possessiveness is expected between Zero and his spouses. But tenderness in a vampire, much less a pureblooded beast in human skin? That is transgressive, practically blasphemy.
And yet Kaname was willing to go to such lengths for Zero. That show of value will protect Zero, heighten his influence as much as it will divide him from his fellow Hunters.
Zero is too honest to allow such a show of care to go unanswered. And even if there's nothing else, there is one thing he can do. "You'll need power for your plan, won't you?" His voice makes the tableau fall completely silent.
The Ancestor of the Kuran studies Zero, fathomless eyes prying out every hidden part of him. "Yes."
Zero swallows, fists his hands, and steadies his courage. "Then take what you need." His shaking hands pull his collar open, fumbling on the buttons.
The silence from the watching Hunters turns his stomach. What Zero proposes is beyond disgusting - offering to let a vampire feed on you? Willingly feeding a vampire in front of other Hunters? There isn't anything more depraved and repulsive he could do.
And yet. This is reciprocation. This is a declaration. This is surrender. And as Zero leans back and offers his throat, the emotion he feels is not regret.
Breaking his body into chittering pieces of power, he slips past guards, past walls and gates, his dear wife fluttering behind him, and reforms himself piece by piece before his newest pawns.
There are screams, and the sound of guns brought to bear, but the Ancestor of the Kuran does not deign to open his eyes until the last shard of his body is gathered neatly into place.
He raises an eyebrow at the soldiers in their heavy body armor, then dismisses their existence as they shout demands at him. The Ancestor takes a moment instead to send approval through the blood bond. As instructed, Yuuki is remaining out of sight, her butterflies clustered in the corners and on the ceiling, a thousand eyes watching and measuring.
This stark, coldly lit place is likely a bunker; the lack of windows, stagnant air and thick concrete walls suggests somewhere underground. An uninspiring stage, but the Ancestor will make do, and the contrast of his own splendor with his drab surroundings pleases him.
Sounds have a harsh quality here, reflected off nothing but concrete and metal, and the domed roof above. The humming of frightened human pulses, speeding rabbit-quick, echos in his ears louder than the hum of the electrical generators. Even sated, flush with the richest of bloods, primordial hunger twists in the Ancestor's gut, the nature of a beast that eats and eats, consuming everything it touches.
But glutting himself as a beast in human skin would bring no relief - at least, none greater than the bounty already warming his belly. The awful energy of his beloved's blood courses in the vampire's veins, tracing hot red lighting behind his eyes as it froths and sparks. Self-assurance radiating from every pore of his body, the Ancestor allows himself to bask in phantom affection. His precious boy was generous; he could do anything with this kind of power.
Allowing a glint of ruby to seep into his gaze, the Deathless King surveys humanity's most powerful leaders, the attendees of the 114th global economic conference. The frozen, terrified humans huddle before him like so many mice in a burrow.
He barely spares a glance for the few vampires in the room. They are irrelevant to his purpose. The unhappy handful of Senate representatives, sent to forge a failed consensus, have fallen to their knees at the sight of him. Without his acknowledgement, they are forced to remain kneeling.
"Good evening," the Ancestor says in a tone like black silk, beginning his performance. "My apologies for startling you. We have not been introduced, but you may know of me. My name is Kuran Kaname."
With an immortal's patience, the Ancestor waits out the uproar. Of course these humans know who he is - anyone with the faintest knowledge of vampire society knows the Kuran family and their significance - but offering politeness and false modesty salves sensitive human egos. And it never hurts to remind each and every one of these humans what his breed is capable of, and how their lives rest on his tolerance.
This time, when he steps forward the soldiers let him pass.
The Ancestor of the Kuran faces humanity's most powerful appointed leaders - presidents, prime ministers, premiers, chancellors, princes, kings, sheikhs and assorted heads of state. Whatever their titles or importance, their grey hair and lined faces, they are little more than children in his eyes. He would like their cooperation, but he can complete his designs without it. Yet if he winds his words around them just right, they will bow to his will, and his course will be smoother.
"You know why I have come," the Ancestor begins, schooling his face into something suitably young and earnest. "The world of night stands in crisis. The secrecy enacted and maintained by our predecessors has been profoundly threatened. The one who forced us to this point is dead, but her bloody legacy lives on. I presume the representatives of the Senate have told you that much."
He waits for a general murmur of agreement, but does not look at the kneeling vampires, a subtle snub he knows the human leaders will see. If the Senate has offended during negotiations, the Ancestor intends to set himself up as an alternative.
"The vampire race values its cooperation with your respective governments," the Ancestor flatters, taking a moment to project sincerity as he sweeps his gaze over the room. "The arrangement keeping our worlds separate has served us well for many millennia. Our race realizes this uproar must have been highly troubling to our partners. Therefore, I intend to offer a suitable gift in apology, one that will also solve our current situation."
He waits for the interested whispers to fade before continuing. "The chief obstacle to resolving these attacks has been our lack of a suitable surrogate culprit. These attacks are too widespread and well-planned for our usual excuses - terrorists, rebels, dissenters, gangs, serial killers, and the like. But there are entities with the necessary resources to provide a believable explanation."
The Ancestor of the Kuran spreads his hands, allowing his voice to build. "There have always been nations driven by ideology to reject the world order. You call them rogue states. As a token of our alliance, I offer the destruction of one of those enemies."
Smiling tightly, he lowers his hands as the room descends into chaos. If humanity wants a war, the Ancestor of the Kuran will give them one.
"Do you really expect us to believe a crazy idea like that?" quarrels a particularly self-important looking old human.
Judging from all the medals on his chest, the human is probably someone noteworthy - or would like to thing he is - but the pureblood doesn't care enough to inquire. The Ancestor favors the rude human with a smile that says 'let me treat you to a detailed examination of your entrails.'
Turning white, the elderly objector ducks down in his chair and closes his jaw with an audible snap.
Little appeased, the Ancestor of the Kuran curls his lip in a way that exposes all this teeth. "A reasonable question, if rudely phrased."
"A sacrificial lamb must be properly prepared before slaughter," the pureblood allows, clasping his hands behind his back and slowly pacing the perimeter of his stage. "I guarantee I will find plenty of willing collaborators among their ruling elite. Places like that are always wracked by corruption. If not for money and promises of amnesty, I have other, unique persuasions."
The Ancestor's lips twist. "Few humans will refuse a few extra hundred years added to their lifespan, even when they know the price. Anyone who does refuse will have their memories altered. With enough officials under our control, manufacturing the necessary evidence to paint their government as the culprit will be simple. We may need to depose their leader, but our collaborators will be happy to provide a replacement. Touching off a power struggle will also provide a convenient rationale behind the attacks."
"From there, it becomes necessary to convince our target state's population. Any media or access to the outside world will already be heavily regulated by the regime's leaders. A few rumors, soon backed up by official propaganda, and we convince our lamb of its guilt," he concludes, letting his hands fall to his sides.
A woman with short, greying hair rises to her feet. "Mr. Kuran, I find your choice of scapegoat plausible. But the reason that rogue states still exist is because they're nuclear armed. We avoid provoking or destabilizing them for our own safety."
The Ancestor can work with such cautious politeness, and rewards her with a slight nod. "I understand your reluctance. But I have promised to deliver your enemy to your feet, and I have already considered how to overcome that particular obstacle."
Reaching out, the pureblood crooks a finger. A phone belonging to the disagreeable human who interrupted him earlier flies up and hovers in the air before him.
The room gasps.
Smirking - it takes so little to impress humans - he allows the little device to float for a moment, lighting up the screen to show it functions. Then the Ancestor nonchalantly begins to disassemble it, piece by tiny piece. Each individual component hovers in the air nearby, until a constellation of chips, wiring and casing surrounds him.
"Any bomb is useless if you destroy the ignition device," the Ancestor states, as if bored. "Your intelligence agencies will know where their arsenals are located, and our collaborators will lead us to anything your spies have missed. I will complete the disarmament myself. I am at no risk from either radiation or accidental ignition."
If anyone questions the Ancestor's ironic smile, they take the wiser path and say nothing.
He raises a hand, and the tiny parts begin to reassemble themselves, a smooth linear rebuilding the Ancestor makes look fluid and easy. Only the Senate's representatives understand how impressive this demonstration really is. Limiting himself to a tiny thread of power, and the precise delicacy required to handle electrical components is possible only after great practice.
When he's finished, the Ancestor lights the screen to prove the device still functions, and then sends it back to its owner with a sweep of his hand. "Once we have our lamb laid on the altar, you will issue a joint broadcast denouncing our chosen culprit, and our agents will make sure it reaches every television, radio and news website around the world. What you do after that is your own affair - destroy them if you wish. I have no doubt your citizens are crying out for blood."
A younger human slams his hands on the table, and jumps to his feet. "You're a real bastard. Do you know how many innocent people will die if we do this? Whoever we choose won't even be guilty. It's you people who did this."
The Ancestor of the Kuran nearly laughs. He's barely scraping the surface of his capacity for selfishness and cruelty. "Do you have a better idea? Pity for your enemies is admirable, but will do you no favors. Consider which will serve you better. A messy, ugly revelation that will likely end with bloodshed in your own streets, or a simple, patriotic, just conflict on foreign soil. Which do you think will boost your approval ratings?"
The human scowls, but stays silent.
This time, the Ancestor of the Kuran laughs aloud, and circles back to the center of the room, holding every eye captive. Turning, he lifts his hands once more, and hardens his voice. "Now tell me, human, which of your enemies would you like to destroy?"
"You really believe this will work, Kaname?"
"Believe? My dear, I am certain we will succeed. Surely you don't think I told those humans everything?"
"Those bloodsuckers work fast," comments a young apprentice, rising up on her toes to catch a look at the television screen over the crowd's shoulders. "It's been what, twenty hours?"
The television commentators continue breathlessly speculating what the upcoming press conference will reveal. Zero watches the clock in the corner of the screen tick down, a feeling of ominous trepidation weighing his shoulders. It's almost enough to block out the less-than-friendly looks he's receiving from some of other Hunters.
One of the friendlier faces, Hunter Niemi - another active Hunter Zero's worked with before, though she's getting on in years and will probably retire soon - calls out, "Hey Kiryuu, you got any idea what's going on?"
"Not a clue," he replies, stomach clenching. Yuuki and Kaname haven't called. They're probably just insanely pressed for time as they rush to avert a crisis - or trying to shield him by leaving him truthfully ignorant - but Zero desperately wants to know they're okay. Kaname's state of mind worries him most of all. Zero doesn't believe either of them will come to physical harm, but when he thinks about what course of action Kaname might condone…
"Guess they just wanted a snack before they left." Quartermaster Kudou laughs with a cruel undertone as he marches up, flanked by Takagi from the intelligence division. "I'm sure if they'd had time they'd have stopped for a fuck too." His dark eyes rake Zero from top to bottom. "Not that I understand why."
"Fuck off Kudou," shouts someone from the other side of the room. "We're trying to watch the announcement."
"You all saw what he did," scowls Takagi, raising his voice and squaring his burly shoulders. "Right in front of us, like he was proud of it. I can't think of anything more degrading. We're Hunters - we don't make ourselves meals for those monsters. And now he has the balls to show up like he didn't just betray us."
"That's going too far, Takagi!" Hunter Niemi is on her feet, a look in her eye that says she wants to punch something.
"Betray you?" Zero repeats in disbelief, stoic mask settling over his face. The other Hunters - his comrades - avert their eyes, but his extra sense can still read the traces of their agreement. Zero broke a deep-laid taboo. The only thing he could have done worse was sink his fangs into a human right in front of them.
Zero twists his hands in the hem of his shirt, just barely stopping himself from a more obvious gesture of pain, but Zero knows his hurt is written in his eyes, no matter how blank his face. He swallows past the rasp in his throat. "I've been married to the Kurans for over a year. What did you think would happen? That I would be able to keep them from ever feeding from me? That's ridiculous."
"No," Zero continues, anger rising up. "You knew exactly what I would have to do. But as long as you didn't have to see it, you decided to ignore it. And now you're pissed because you can't pretend anymore."
Takagi looks uncomfortable, shifting uneasily like he'd rather leave.
But Zero isn't finished, turning his glare on a new target. "And you, Kudou!"
The quartermaster flinches.
"If I'm a whore for sleeping with them, then the Association is my pimp. Because I remember you all spending weeks haggling over terms before allowing the vampires fuck me."
Zero faces the room and lets his voice carry. "So you don't get to be the morally superior one. You don't get to be disgusted by what you all agreed to. And you don't get to dictate the terms of my life anymore, because you've already bargained that away."
Unable to face his comrades any longer without saying something he'll regret, Zero glares one last time and marches out of the room, heading for his temporary quarters. Throwing himself down on the bed, Zero exhales and buries his face in the pillow.
Dammit. He'll just have to find out what the announcement was later.
Although...Zero considers for a moment, and then slips into mushin. Carefully extending his sight and hearing alone - still a new, barely tested refinement of his power - Zero's consciousness finds a crackle of static in one of the medical division offices, and leaves his body breathing evenly behind him as he settles in to watch.
Seeing without your eyes is a difficult experience to wrap your head around. There are no blind spots - it's rather like a sphere surrounding the point 'you' are in any direction. Zero amuses himself by poking around and listening to the nurses gossip while they wait.
Something brushes against Zero's intuition so lightly, so delicately it's almost invisible. Like the touch of a cat's whisker.
Or, Zero realizes with a dawning sense of horror, like the brush of a raven's feather.
That raven's feather whispers against his senses again as the cameras switch to a dour-faced Prime Minister and his colleagues. And then, as the man opens his mouth and begins telling a story about a terrible, cruel dictatorship and the depravities they've committed in the name of preserving power, a single black feather floats gently down from the ceiling. No breeze disturbs it as it falls, slow and inevitable, and when it touches the ground it dissolves like a snowflake touching warm earth.
And then it begins to rain.
Handfuls of inky black feathers, covering the floors like a quilt, blocking out the sky in curtains. Zero isn't the only one who senses something amiss - the nurses have drawn weapons and are watching the corners of the room with wild eyes. But no one mentions the feathers - Zero alone can see them.
The Hunter gasps, and jerks upright in his own body, dropping out of mushin like it burns. But the raven feathers are still there, forming a phantom snowdrift around his body. Zero brushes them away with shaking hands that pass through nothing except air. His palms tingle, while his Hunter senses warn 'vampire, vampire,' too heavy and insistent to be anything but the work of a pureblood.
The shouting in the halls has reached the pitch of panic. Zero shuts his eyes and grinds the heels of his hands against them until white spots bloom.
Kaname, what have you done?
The reports roll in from central Asia, from Africa, from Europe, from the Americas. As far as the Hunters' Association can determine, whatever Kaname is doing covers the entire planet.
And that titanic flow of power has remained actively steady for the past six hours, with no sign of lessening. To complete such a massive working for even a few moments would be considered an act of monstrous power. To maintain that vast hold for so many hours without faltering? What Kaname has done was considered beyond impossible. Nobody believed a pureblood existed who could be capable of such magnitude.
Not that they've officially confirmed it's Kaname - yet. Everyone suspects, but Zero hasn't been able to bring himself to confess, and Cross has mercifully avoided asking. It's a futile act of protection, but Zero feels guilty for withholding information nonetheless.
The Hunters have always known age increases a vampire's power, but the reality is beyond Zero's imagining. The sheer scale of what Kaname's done is enough to make some of the senior Hunters need to sit down and breathe through the panic, because the Hunters possess no possible way of countering it. They're utterly helpless to do anything except watch and wait.
This is a nightmare scenario for the Hunters, mitigated only by the fact that this cloud of power appears to be having no noticeable effect. Not on the Hunters, not on the handful of tamed vampires the Association keeps, and not on the Level D vampires in the slums.
The uncertainty is making everyone short-tempered, and Zero has retreated back to his guest room. Curled up on the bed, Zero clutches his useless phone - silent of a single response after so many calls - and eventually dozes off.
A gale sweeps him up, and calls in the Ancestress' voice. "West, child. Search west!"
Raven feathers shroud his vision, but Zero sends his spirit forth desperately, seeking the smallest sign. He follows the currents of heavy power in the air, questing relentlessly. And by casting off his body, his eyes have finally opened.
There are voices in the air - or rather one single voice laid atop itself, a susurrus overlapping like the sound of rain as the sky sheds feathers. Zero perceives clearly now. Those raven-dark feathers are not meant for Hunters, nor are they meant for vampires. They are whispers in the ears of humanity, planting a single suggestion: believe. Believe this clever lie, take things as they seem. Close your eyes, look no further.
It is, Zero understands as he looks further, not correct to call this power coercion, nor true forced belief. It could be resisted, if one had the determination. But in the absence of firm conviction, it's like giving someone a push while off-balance. Like planting a seed, but the soil itself determines if it takes root.
There! His intuition guides him. There is the source. Climb higher!
So Zero does, straining desperately at the current boundaries of his strength. Let me see them, he begs, even just once. Let me know they are alright!
The black feathers give way to snow, and a mountaintop. And there is Yuuki, steely determination writ across her face as she watches the horizon from the high ground, holding a staff in a guard position.
Below her, kneeling in the snow, is Kaname. His eyes are hooded and distant, gaze bent toward far-off inner horizons, the dark abysses of his soul where only the dead walk. There is strain in his shoulders, and in the clench of his jaw, the way this throat works, and in the way his fingers twitch as though struggling to hold onto something that fights him.
They hold that frozen position for hour upon hour, Zero keeping unseen vigil alongside them. The shadows draw long; the sun sets bloody in the west, tingeing the snow sanguine. The moon rises and sets bone-white; the stars wheel overhead.
The weight of his own strength wears Kaname down fragment by fragment. It is a terrifying thing to watch - his proud shoulders drawing inward, spine bent lower and lower until he's bracing himself upright in the snow on his hands and knees. The heavy breaths, the rapid flutter of his eyelashes, dark against cheeks holding less color than the snow around him.
Many times, Zero watches Yuuki bite her lip and look down, longing to help, to offer comfort. But at the last minute her determination always stays her hand, and she returns to her watch, leaving Kaname to his own task.
Yuuki's role is vital. If Kaname were to be attacked now...someone might actually be able to kill him, while his power and attention are so wholly caught up in this delicate onslaught. Only the power of another pureblood could shield his vulnerable body. Yuuki must not waver for a single moment.
Zero's strength pours out sooner than he'd expected, but stubborn to the last, the Hunter watches over his spouses until the very last moment. Beneath his dwindling strength, it's like clinging to a cliff by his fingernails, until the sheer effort tears him away back to his body.
Zero wakes up in the medical wing, and endures his scolding without complaint. A genuine fear for his health shows in the other Hunters' eyes now.
Zero is valued by a pureblood whose power is so vast it can blanket the planet. It is not wise to test the limits of that value.
Confined to bed, Zero watches the broadcast loop over and over as black feathers sink softly to the ground at the edges of his sight. Topple a government and manipulate eight billion people. Just a normal day's work for the Kuran family.
Zero should probably feel angry. People will get hurt, and Kaname's solution is completely unethical. That kind of arrogant manipulation is exactly what he despises most about vampires, especially purebloods.
But compared to some of the scenarios Zero imagined, the damage from Kaname's plan is moderate. Zero may not like Kaname's methods, but he can't change what's already happened. His emotions have settled on resigned acceptance instead of anger. Zero knew what Kaname was capable of when he bonded him. What's one more offense to tolerate?
But that worries Zero too - is he losing his own sense of right and wrong? Zero doesn't have a good answer for that, and he knows the thought is going to cause him many sleepless nights to come.
The beacon of power burning in the west blinks out around two hours later, almost twelve hours after it first began. Zero senses it crumble around him, watching the last few raven feathers break and melt.
Yuuki and Kaname are probably fine. Cold fear still clenches in his chest.
Six more days pass before Zero sees his wife and husband again. Six days with no word, and no rumors from either vampire or Hunter.
Zero bears their separation the best he can, because he understands the necessity. A pureblood must never appear less than flawless and invulnerable. Kaname cannot resurface until he's recovered from his exhaustion and can act unaffected by his labor. With the revelation of his power he walks a narrow line between awe and terror; the knives turned against him will be numberless. There will be other political matters the Kurans must smooth over too, and it's better that Zero remains safe so they don't have to worry.
Zero understands all this. But his omega doesn't.
At first, it's only his heartbeat speeding a little too fast, making sweat gather beneath his collar. Then he begins spending more time alone, shying away from close quarters and accidental touch. Each day his paranoia and anxiety ratchets higher. The Hunter only realizes something's amiss when he catches himself spending the day in bed, burrowed underneath multiple blankets as an acute sense of anxiety keeps him from rest.
It catches him by surprise - Zero's omega instincts are normally so weak, after all. He can't remember any mention of this happening in the books he's read, but he knows newly bonded mates aren't meant to be separated for long periods of time. Constant touch and mutual co-dependence is supposed to continue until all partners have settled. Zero's guessing, but perhaps his omega has taken neglect as a sign of abandonment?
It hurts, knowing that day after day his alphas' claim fades from his skin. His instincts insist he's vulnerable, like being naked in front of strangers. He's not safe if no one can tell he's bonded. A jittery feeling under his skin makes him long for the quiet darkness of his nest - some omegas retreat there in times of stress, though Zero has never before felt the need.
Zero conceals any sign of his discomfort, forcing himself to keep up appearances with the Association. It's not Yuuki and Kaname's fault, and Zero won't allow anyone grounds to criticize them. But pretending makes the anxiety and distress pull tight around his throat, the gnawing need to hide worse.
Zero used to go weeks, months even without significant touch. Now Zero starves after a few days of isolation. How weak, he scolds himself, and holds his need down with the same self-control he used to starve himself until he couldn't recognize the feeling of hunger.
His reunion with Yuuki and Kaname unpleasantly mirrors their parting - on the steps of the Association headquarters, surrounded by a hostile crowd, with Cross at Zero's side.
His omega whimpers and claws, wanting only to be wrapped in the arms of its alphas until it feels secure again. Zero crushes the desire for reassurance, surveying the scene with detached stoicism.
Kaname still carries more of the Ancestor of the Kuran reflected in his bearing than Zero would like, but Yuuki has kept her promise not to let him drown. Cross is not wearing his glasses, and the other Hunters are armed. Fear and suspicion thicken the air.
Zero judges an intervention is necessary.
As Cross steps forward and opens his mouth, Kaname lights up like he expects a verbal battle. Before either of them can get a word in, Zero shoulders his way past Cross, and glares at his missing spouses.
"I haven't heard from you in a week!" he hisses. His extra sense whispers the correct role to play, and Zero bends to fit, vibrating with the feedback from his audience. The aggrieved spouse, irritated but fond underneath. "You could at least have called, bastard."
Come on, Kaname, Zero urges silently. Take the opening and play human. Prove there are chains you'll allow. With vampires, giving ground would be weakness. For Hunters, watching a bloodsucker display humanity is reassurance.
His husband's face remains perfectly blank. Then Zero watches him shake off the last of the Ancestor and Kaname's brows raise in amusement. "I apologize, I've been occupied. The error is ours. I shall have to make it up to you, my Consort."
Somehow, Zero suppresses the desire to simply step forward and allow himself to be carried away. No one needs to know unnecessary things. "You better, stupid pureblood." He aims a weaker glare at Yuuki for good measure.
His wife wilts, ruining her regal aura, just as Zero'd hoped.
The Hunter snorts, and crosses his arms. "At least I've been able to catch up with Master while you've been gone. While I'm thinking of it, we haven't visited the Chairman recently."
Like a lion promised flesh, Cross perks up at Zero's elbow, his serious Hunter persona abandoned before the prospect of having his adopted daughter visit. "Daddy would love for his precious children to come see him!"
"There you go," Zero says, ignoring the rain of invisible hearts he's unleashed. "I'm sure we can clear time in our schedules."
Kaname doesn't do anything visible like sigh or pinch the bridge of his nose, but his manner implies he'd very much like to. "Something can be arranged," the pureblood replies.
Narrowing his eyes, Zero sends his husband one more glare for their audience's benefit. The tense atmosphere has sputtered out and died a quick death. It's hard being intimidated by someone whose father-in-law is Chairman Cross, which is exactly what Zero wanted.
Zero really needs to finish this, because he's not sure how much longer he can hide the needy omega part of him. "Fine. You can both talk then." He holds out his arm with clear expectation as he steps outside the wards.
When they reappear in front of Rosehill's residential palace, Zero is shaking in Kaname's arms with sheer relief, nose buried in the crook of his alpha's neck, pressed as close as possible. "I missed you both," he says in an attempt to deflect suspicion.
Kaname kisses him - or rather, attempts to consume him, the Ancestor's greed still close to the surface. Yuuki snarls and tears Zero out of his hands, carrying him back to their bedroom like a war prize.
"Please," Zero begs, clinging to her neck and driven past his endurance. He needs them to prove he's wanted, needs them to write their claim on his body until his safety is promised by the marks they leave. "Please, please, fuck me, take me, please." Until he doesn't feel empty, until he's driven out the loneliness.
He arches, rubbing mindlessly against them as they strip him bare, each piece of his Hunter disguise falling away until he's soft and naked and defenseless. He knows they can smell the slick leaking out of him, how easy they'll slide inside and soak his walls.
That's good, Zero's body is all for them. They can use him however they want. They're his alphas, and he won't let them go.
"Is he asleep?" Yuuki murmurs in an undertone, belting on a robe.
Kaname presses his fingers briefly over Zero's forehead, stroking their Consort's silver fringe and whispering too softly even for pureblood ears to discern.
Yuuki's heart thumps, the ache of separation still recent, and her stiff posture softens. Zero seemed slightly off-balance earlier, but perhaps it was just her imagination. She'd been distracted by the desire to hug him until he squeaked...and then fuck him until he cried.
"He's asleep," Kaname says as the lines in Zero's face smooth out. No doubt the pureblood pushed Zero further into rest with a nudge of power.
Nodding, Yuuki tucks the blankets under Zero's chin, then moves toward the outer sitting room of the master suite.
Completely shameless as always, Kaname follows her - completely stark naked - and pours himself a glass of wine. Lifting the bottle, he makes eye contact with Yuuki, who shakes her head.
Shrugging, her husband takes his place in an armchair across from her, crossing his legs in a way that does nothing to shield his nudity.
Yuuki is unfazed. If Kaname wants to have a serious conversation naked, so be it.
While she lines up her thoughts, her eyes unconsciously search Kaname's body for leftover marks of his ordeal. But Kaname's bearing remains impeccable as always. Only her memories exist to remind her it happened.
Yuuki will never tell another soul about the days she spent hiding Kaname's drained form. He'd been unable to stand, ashen-faced and hollow-cheeked, sleeping and feeding viciously by turns. Yuuki had swallowed bottles of blood tablets just to keep up. As terrifying and world-shaking as it had been to see Kaname physically brought low, Yuuki treasures the memories. It's the most intimate experience he's ever gifted her, far more secret than sex. Kaname guards his vulnerability like a miser guards his gold.
Mind turning back toward those days, Yuuki murmurs, "More than ever, I realize the difference in strength between us." How much weaker Yuuki is, no matter how hard she's been working to improve. "But I have a request."
Kaname frowns, letting his wine glass dangle from his fingertips. "As I've said before, don't let the opinions of ignorant nobles influence you. They believe us to be roughly similar in age, and judge your achievements beside mine. You and I know that's not true. I am the oldest vampire in existence, and you are barely past childhood. Our strength is not comparable. I promise, you will eventually be capable of anything I can do."
Yuuki says nothing, waiting for Kaname to come around to her intended point.
Her husband shifts, conceding that battle until another time. "What request, Yuuki?"
"I don't think we're using our resources effectively," Yuuki states, bracing her arms on the back of a chair.
"How so?" he asks, russet eyes narrowing.
"We're ignoring the most important, time-sensitive problem we have right now."
"Which is?" Kaname questions, tilting his head. He's surprised Yuuki is questioning his strategies, but he's curious, not reluctant.
"The ritual to extend Zero's life," Yuuki states, eyes straying towards their bedroom. "Consort Shoshana is dying. When that happens, all of her knowledge will be lost and we'll lose our opportunity to examine her body. We've been spending all our effort on the Senate and Shirabuki, but compared to Zero's life those problems are meaningless. So I have a proposal."
Kaname is rapt. "Go on."
Yuuki experiences a surge of vindication. The pleasure of being taken seriously still warms her. "We split our problems between us. You need to be the one who researches the ritual, because I don't have the knowledge. You can let Steward Inukai handle the estate for a while, and you can step back from our businesses so you have fewer distractions. You'll still need to occasionally help with the Senate - I'm getting better at politics, but I'm not up to your level."
"And what will you be doing?" Kaname inquires seriously.
Yuuki bares her teeth. "I have a score to settle with Shirabuki Sara. I won't be satisfied until every last one of her plans is crushed beneath my feet."
"Well then, how can I refuse?" Kaname's expression is as bloodthirsty as her own. "It's a good plan. I assume you'll be overseeing Aido's progress on the antidote as well?"
"Yes," Yuuki confirms, mouth settling in an unhappy line. 'Progress' is overstating things. And everything the researchers achieve is bought with constant offerings of Zero's blood for study.
"If you're taking over day-to-day operations in the business offices, I'll loan you Seiren too," Kaname offers.
"That would help, " Yuuki accepts. "If that's settled, let's go back to bed." She's already turning toward the bedroom. She's not especially tired; she just wants to cuddle with Zero more.
Swallowing the last of his wine, Kaname follows behind her, and Yuuki gets her wish for the rest of the day.
Takuma's pregnancy has lent a regal ponderousness to his gaits, Kaname observes as they make their way down one of the open verandas of the Ichijo estate, sheltering from the rain.
The open sides of Takuma's sleeveless overcoat emphasize his stomach, though he is not especially large yet. The blond's height and sturdy frame, inherited from his father, make him well-suited to the weight of a child, though that is an unwelcome realization to the pureblood.
"While I am happy to see the potential breach of our secrets resolved so effectively," Takuma muses, green eyes glancing over at him. "I wonder if perhaps other methods might have exposed you to less risk."
In other words, Kaname has overreacted and done something unnecessary. Takuma is far too well-raised to directly criticize a pureblood, but had long ago perfected the art of telling a pureblood they've done something stupid without seeming to do so.
"Other methods might not have solved the problem so neatly. There is little chance the humans will overcome the suggestion I planted." Kaname argues without conviction.
"That may be so," Takuma allows serenely, folding his hands into his sleeves.
Both of them know Kaname is making excuses. There had been a range of responses available to the pureblood, and he'd jumped straight to the most radical and personally damaging. With one act, Kaname has provoked the humans, Hunters and vampires, and drawn so much attention to himself that his every move will be closely scrutinized.
The other unavoidable consequence of his actions is open conflict with the Senate. Kaname treated their actions as insignificant and exposed the fragility of their power. They have no choice but to contend with him if they wish to preserve their authority.
Kaname may have definitively solved one problem, but he's created a dozen more to take its place, making enemies and inviting the jackals right to his door. In view of the consequences, allowing others to shoulder some of the risks would have been better than taking sole personal responsibility.
But the die is already cast, and Takuma allows the moment to pass without further censure. The pair admire the summer-green gardens for a few moments amid the steady thrum of rain.
"You've given the Senate proof you are hiding something." Takuma's tone is light, belaying the seriousness of his words. "Many inconsistencies can be explained by your reputation as a prodigy, but not displaying your power on such a scale. You bent the entire human race beneath your will, Kaname." The noble sounds as though he can barely believe it now, an echo of awe in his voice. "What you accomplished was supposed to be impossible."
Then Takuma adds, with a quick flick of his eyes, "Isaya confessed that he couldn't begin to match your power."
And Shouto is supposed to be the eldest remaining pureblood. Kaname curses the madness that made him so rash. Now Shouto will suspect him as well.
Takuma turns toward him, meeting Kaname's gaze. "There will be fear and suspicion directed toward you. Not just by the Senate, but by the Hunters and humans too. When they ask me, Kaname, I can say truthfully that I know nothing for certain. But Rido was mad, and who knows what he let slip in his madness. We have erased as many memories as we could. But can we guarantee that we silenced everyone?"
Kaname keeps his expression indifferent, only a flex of his fingers betraying his unease. His identity is his most deeply guarded secret. If it should be discovered...
Takuma notices, though he says nothing. Looking out over the wet gardens, the noble's voice is hushed, barely audible above the sound of soft summer rain. "It hasn't been announced officially yet, but the Senate's investigators have closed Shirabuki's case."
Takuma means the committee investigating pureblood deaths. Ouri's case was only recently completed. Ending the inquiry into Shirabuki's death seems premature, especially when it could potentially be used to discredit the Kuran family. "What do you know, Takuma?" Kaname demands.
A moment passes, then Takuma lifts his eyes to meet Kaname's gaze. "The Senate is going to call Kiryuu Zero to testify regarding Hio Shizuka's death," the noble answers grimly.
Thanks for reading everyone! hope watching Kaname in action was satisfying. Just to give you a better idea of Kaname's plan, he basically suggested pinning everything on TWOFT's equivalent of North Korea.
Until next time, my friends!