Distorted Fairy Tale

by Xagzan

Tsukune has been captured by Akuha, Moka's eldest sister and member of the ominous Fairy Tale. Waking in a quiet, dark room, what awaits Tsukune within the sinister vampiress' clutches? Just what are her intentions? TsukunexAkuha, rated M for a reason. Some graphic content.

14. For Want of Innocence, Pt 1

For Want of Innocence, Pt. 1

"Miyabi, how lovely to see you. What can I do for you today? I take it you have some news for me?"

Alone in the sub's darkened conn, Miyabi sighed in relief and rubbed a hand over his eyes. "Great, we finally got through. Sorry for the holdup, chief, it wasn't easy getting a signal down here."

"Never mind that," Gyokuro waved dismissively, the torch fire behind her steadily licking up the layered stones. "I'm only interested in hearing one thing from you, Miyabi. I hope it's the reason you've contacted me."

Pausing, Miyabi's usual thin-lipped grin found its way back home. The dim, fluorescent lights tinged his complexion blue, shadows stretching around eyes brimming with eagerness. "Yeah, we're all set here. We've got our entire route planned out, and once we reach the first one…Well, yeah, you know." Gyokuro nodded passively, without expression, but Miyabi knew his superior was pleased. "And my daughter?" she asked. "Has she been cooperative?"

"Oh, absolutely. Kahlua knows better than to disobey direct orders. She's really a delightful and talented girl. Well, no surprise there, right? You did raise her." Gyokuro answered that with a flash of smile as falsely sweet as her subordinate's tone. "She will make some man a very lucky husband, one day," he finished.

The woman laughed, a quick bark of amusement. "We shall see, Miyabi, we shall see. Never mind, of course, the fact that I have yet to select a suitable candidate of proper breeding and ability. Such exemplary men are hard to come by, even among us vampires."

There was a pause, almost deliberate, between them. Miyabi's keen eyes scanned his commander's face, examining for hints, for signs of purpose and disposition. Then, inclining his head slightly, he said, with perfectly poised humility: "Then perhaps, if it's not too presumptuous for me to suggest, you should try guiding your search elsewhere, ma'am?"

Another silence. But not without understanding – Gyokuro suspected what intent lay behind such wheedling words. She smiled, with sincerity this time. Then, coyly: "I don't know. If I cannot find one within my own race that is suited for my daughter, where else could I possibly hope to succeed?"

Miyabi shrugged, then, satisfied for now with the conversation's course, said: "You never know. Although, I bet if you keep your eyes open and stay vigilant, you'll definitely find someone worthy."

A slight pause, and still a smile. "We shall see."

Miyabi chuckled cheerfully. "Indeed, yes! Well, putting all that aside; I just wanted to inform you of the current situation. Oh, and I'll be leaving the others in charge here, briefly. Just got a quick stopover to make, like you suggested."

Gyokuro nodded. "Excellent, you have my thanks. I'll await your opinion on that as well." As she made to disconnect the line, she checked herself, remembering, and asked: "Oh, one more thing, Miyabi. How is your captain faring?"

At this, a grimace, and hands clasped with a show of anxiety. "…Not well. He came down with another fever a couple of days ago, and has been out of it since. I can't imagine he'll be fit to return to duty anytime soon."

"Perhaps it's for the best," Gyokuro droned. "After all, he was never quite so loyal as you. With what we're aiming for, I often wondered if he was someone dependable, who I could trust to carry out this mission."

The grin returned to Miyabi's lips. "You know, I was just thinking the same thing, ma'am."

Gyokuro leaned back, sighing, and the thick, jeweled necklace jingled. "Well, in any case, give him my regards. I hope he does not suffer too much longer."

"I doubt he will. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some business to take care of."

"Yes….Very well. Contact me again with your next update. Until then." Then the screen winked to black.

Exiting the room, Miyabi was relieved. That had gone quite well, he thought. He had cast the lines, and Gyokuro, thankfully, had not swum by unheedingly. That was enough for the moment. No need to rush such things. Well, not all of them, anyway. There was at least one matter he could deal with right away, that was actually long overdue. Crossing a few of his crew in the corridors, he nodded at them cordially, making his way steadily to the quarters where his ailing captain lay alone.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

"M-mom, Dad!?"

Tsukune stood at the park gate, mouth agape at the familiar faces now rushing towards him up the stone path. Rushing, that is, as fast as the milling crowds allowed. To the side, a pair of children brushed past Tsukune, one chasing the other with a stick in faux attack, both laughing. The sun, gradually hoisting itself up behind the trees, rising from the clearing mist like a flare, mischievously threw its rays like blinding darts through gaps in the leaves, bringing Tsukune's hand up to shield his parents from view. Absent sight, the next he knew of them came as he felt himself suddenly wrapped in a fierce, clutching embrace, smothering nostrils and mouth. He recognized the scent of his father's freshly pressed kimono, his mother's delicate perfume, and any care of breathing vanished.

"What are you all doing here?" he asked, though muffled against the cloth, it was totally inaudible. They released him from their arms, and he repeated the question.

"Oh, Tsukune, have you forgotten?" his mother asked. "Don't you remember us coming here when you were younger for the festival?"

"N-no, I do…Sorry, it's just a little overwhelming to see you all so suddenly."

His father smiled. "Well, your mother and I decided it had been too long since the three of us drove down for the celebration. And with you away at school, we asked our favorite niece to accompany us."

"Hah! Thanks, Uncle Koji. Tsukki, it's so great to see you! Come on, let's look around. We're all here, so it'll be fun! Your friend can come t—huh? Hey, where did she go?"

It suddenly became apparent to Tsukune that in the confusion, Akuha had vanished without a trace. He wondered if the presence of so many humans had finally caused her to retreat, to skulk off somewhere nearby, alone.

"She?" Koji echoed, smirking. "You have a 'she' here? Did you hear that, Kasumi?"

"Oh! Is it that lovely Moka girl, Tsukune?"

"N-no, mom, it's just a…a friend, I guess. I don't know where she went…."

"Should we look for her, Tsukki?"

His first instinct was to refuse. He was still somewhat overwhelmed. After everything he had been through lately, the dark fear and chaos into which his life had been thrown, a prison, and he the prisoner – now, at last, here was a welcome respite, a lull in the storm for him to breathe as freely as the wind whistling past under advancing clouds; he was surrounded, against all odds and belief, by his loving family, absent in his life this past year, and sorely missed, particularly given his new circumstances. For a shining moment, he almost forgot about the cumbersome chain around his neck, tethering him still to the darkness.

But he knew this pause in the game was, unfortunately, just that. He was stuck to Akuha, for better or worse, without escape, till-who-knew-when do they part. Besides, he admitted, it was probably best for everyone here not to let her roam among these people on her own. The risk of an incident was not one he was willing to take. And so he agreed, with trepidation, that his companion should be found.

Fortunately—or not: Tsukune's perspective was not fixed—it was not a long search. Strangely enough, he spotted Akuha just several paces away, perched like a hawk up in a tree off the side of the path, reclining against the bark from a position overlooking the festival ground – a position her mind had no doubt calculated as strategically placed for observation of any potential "dangers" below, Tsukune thought ruefully. Trying to disregard his sudden disturbing attunement to the workings of her mind, he approached her lookout, the others at his back, staring up and squinting at the figure their Tsukune was calling to.

He sighed. "Akuha, what are you doing?"

"Too many humans," she said brusquely. "Let me know when you're done here, Tsukune, so we can go back."

"Did she say 'humans'?" Kyouko whispered to her aunt and uncle. Kasumi, however, merely adorned a warm smile and said: "Why don't you come down, dear? I promise we don't bite. We love meeting Tsukune's new friends." Then, under her breath: "As long as they don't run around our house half-naked…"

Tsukune could see, however, that the girl remained unconvinced. "Come on, Akuha. They're my parents. There's nothing to freak out over."

"You think this is me freaking out?" Akuha snorted, and Tsukune had to admit she had a point. He had seen how she could get, and this reaction was actually pretty tame. Nevertheless, his mother leaned in and murmured: "She seems awfully shy. Is she uncomfortable around strangers, Tsukune?"

Then, Koji, with a put-on, but well-intentioned air of sagacity: "Poor thing. She might be afraid of social interactions, and meeting new people. We should try to look as non-threatening as possible, to make her feel safe to approach us."

Kyouko rolled her eyes. "Mission accomplished on your end, Uncle. Hey, you, Akuha, was it? Hurry up and come down. I want Tsukki to join us at the festival."

Akuha narrowed her eyes at the girl speaking, a summing look. For a human, she thought, this Kyouko had a bit of fire in her eyes, and a nerve to so casually address her. Then again, she was related to Tsukune. And while it was likely the girl didn't know she was in the presence of a mighty, high born vampire, still, could none of them sense the authority she exuded? That they stood before one who, if not for annoying, arbitrary restrictions, could grind them into sand under her boot? "Take him, then," she said with a wave. "As long as you bring him back here afterwards, I don't care how he wants to make a fool of himself."

Tsukune made to respond, but stopped, his peripherals drawing his attention to the darkening clouds overhead. The breeze he had felt before now intensified, and a strong gale whipped forward through the boughs, rustling the new leaves.

The others noticed it as well. "Looks like rain is coming," Kasumi murmured.

Kyouko was not pleased. "Whaaaaat? Aw, damn, that means they'll probably cancel it," she moaned, looking back at the festival behind them.

While Tsukune was similarly disappointed that a day at a festival with his family was about to be cut short, he noticed abrupt movement up in the branches at the mention of rain, and heard a muttered "Shit" from the girl residing there. Then it hit him.

Oh, yeah. Vampires…Water…Uh oh.

Instantly, worry spread through him like consuming wildfire. Strong as she was, surely Akuha wasn't immune to the weaknesses common to her sister. Her alarmed reaction confirmed this; natural water showering her skin would be a severe problem. Tsukune did not cherish the idea of having to explain to his parents and Kyou-chan why his new friend was burning alive before their eyes. Nor, by this point, was he wholly unconcerned for her safety; try as he might to feel otherwise, he realized he didn't want something fatal to happen to Akuha.

Not that he could do anything to prevent sheer accident: Akuha was a slender young woman, but it turned out the branch serving as her nest was ill-prepared even for her weight. With a groan and a snap, it broke from the tree, plummeting to the ground, and the girl with it. Amid the confused shouts and gasps, Tsukune rushed over and helped her to her feet, sliding her arm over his shoulder.

"Are you okay?" Kasumi asked, moving forward now, concern in her eyes.

"I'm fine," Akuha said, glancing at Tsukune. He should know such a weak fall wouldn't hurt someone like her, though her head would be spinning for a few minutes, she admitted.

Tsukune, however, was merely grateful for the excuse to get her out of the looming shower, as well as…"Dad, is the car nearby? We could let her rest her foot on the way home."

All eyes were suddenly on him. "What?" Kyouko gaped. "You wanna come back with us, Tsukki? What about the rest of your class, and school?"

"We're not here on a class trip, Kyou-chan," Tsukune answered, smiling. "I'm actually…on break, you see."

His mother frowned. "Really? I've never heard of students having off this time of year."

"It's a special school holiday," he offered, hoping they would accept the lie. Thankfully, without many more questions, they did, and they were soon at the park's exit, leaving behind the tents and stalls which had indeed begun to close up shop. Tsukune's parents' car was parked just a couple of blocks away, so it wouldn't be too long a walk, although with Akuha still feeling a sharp sting in her ankle, and forced to lean on Tsukune for support, their going was a bit delayed. It was only a few minutes later, in fact, as they made to cross an intersection, that the rain finally gained on them; turning, Tsukune could see the downpour cascading forward like an army of needles. Another second and Akuha would be drenched.

He moved instinctively, without a second thought. Yanking off his overshirt, wincing at the bite of the cool gale, he flung it haphazardly over the vampiress' head, eliciting a muffled shout of surprise underneath. And then, he was soaked. At a noise to his rear, he looked to see his cousin and father fixing him with devilishly intrigued grins. His mother, however, flickered her gaze between him and his obscured companion—who herself now struggled to regain her bearings under necessary cover of darkness—with a look like concern.

But nothing like this from Koji. "My, my," he chortled, "that was quite a noble thing our Tsukune did, wouldn't you agree, niece?"

The girl nodded in mock seriousness, stroking her chin contemplatively. "Indeed, Uncle, it was. And quite a sweet gesture, at that."

At this, Tsukune gave a start. "Wait, huh?"

"Kasumi, did you see? I think there might be something between our son and this young lady."

"Aww, that's so sweet, Tsukki. Giving her your shirt so she won't get wet?" She batted her eyes at him innocently. "I never expected you to be such a romantic. I guess that means you went and got yourself a girlfriend here?"

"What? No way! Lay off, Kyou-chan, it's nothing like that."

But alas, despite his denial, they kept up their merciless ribbing all the way to the car – Kyouko even inquiring chirpily if she could attend the wedding. Through it all, beneath the sodden shirt, only lifting it high enough for visibility in the downpour, Akuha kept pace without a word, silent as a cloaked wraith. Tsukune's mother remained mute, too, only occasionally sparing a glance at her son's new friend.

Several minutes later, and they were all packed like sardines in the family car and on the quiet drive to the Aono household. Quiet, at least, partially; Kyouko maintained conversation with her aunt and uncle, but, seeing how utterly sleep wasted Tsukune and this Akuha girl were, the three of them allowed them a chance to rest on the ride home, keeping their tones hushed and muttered, not an easy task for Tsukune's lively cousin. Although, even had there been zero noise, rest would not have come easy to him, sandwiched as he was between Kyouko and Akuha. He had surmised it was best to take this position, as there was no way in hell the latter would accept being squished between two humans. It was a sacrifice that was better to make. As for the Shuzen assassin, he was surprised she did not insist they return to the ship; he figured she had been too unnerved by her near rain encounter to protest at the moment.

So it went. Tsukune was eventually able to drift off, but it couldn't have been more than a few minutes later that he was opening his eyes to a heart-warmingly familiar sight.

He was home, and in very short order, after asking the others if they would mind, upstairs taking a warm shower, letting its welcoming comfort envelope his mind and, for the time being, wash his worries away.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Downstairs, meanwhile, the others were situated in the Aono's living room, an awkward silence filling the air. Koji had suddenly been called away on some business emergency, leaving the three women alone with each other, waiting for Tsukune to return.

"Jeez, that Tsukki," Kyouko huffed from a wide reclining chair. "He's barely back a minute and he bolts upstairs to take a bath. I haven't seen him in ages, and he can't even spend a little time with his favorite cousin?"

"He's just happy to be home," her aunt offered from the adjoining kitchen, smiling.

"Yeah, I'll bet. He looked like he wanted to kiss the ground when we pulled into the driveway. You'd think he'd been lost at sea for years, or something."

While they so conversed, Akuha lay sprawled out on the couch, regretting her silent acquiescence at Tsukune's request to leave her there while he quickly showered. What the hell was she supposed to do with these two hens here? She could practically feel their searing gazes on her, penetrating her, evaluating her strengths and weakness as if in preparation for attack—although, when she would glance their way, their attention seemed to be elsewhere.

At last, however, Kyouko did turn to their house guest, as Kasumi rose to go put something together for them, and with an audible curiosity, asked: "So what's your story?"

Opening an eye, Akuha tilted her head to address her. "I have no story."

"What? Come on, that's not an answer. There must be some reason you were alone with my cousin out there. Spill it."

"Kyouko, be polite," Kasumi said sternly from the kitchen.

"I am being polite. But this is a new friend of Tsukki's after all, right? She might even be his girlfriend. We should get to know more—"

"Girlfriend?" Akuha interrupted with mild surprise. "How amusing."

"What's amusing? You must be going out with him, right?"

"Going out?" she echoed again, this phrase being foreign to her ears, although she had some idea given the context.

"Yeah. I didn't really get a chance to ask you back at the festival, but I'm still curious. You're a student at Tsukki's school, aren't you? Have you known each other long?"

"Oh, that's right, you mentioned having visited there before, didn't you," Akuha stated, suddenly remembering.

"Right, for the school festival last year. I was going to visit Tsukki and it just happened to coincide. Actually, I had a blast! Are you guys hosting another one this semester? I'd love to go again."

"You…had a blast?" The vampire was somewhat alarmed at this new information, and twisted her body into a sitting position to stare at the human girl. "You went to the academy's fair….How are you still alive?"

Kyouko tilted her head, confusion leaping into the bright eyes, crystal clear like sunlit water. "Huh? What are you talking about?"

"I mean how did someone like you survive?" Akuha's tone was incredulous. How did this human not get eaten by an ayashi?

"Someone like me? What's that supposed to mean?" Kyouko retorted, taking Akuha's words as insult. She puffed herself up proudly. "Don't get so rude with me. I'm still the one asking the questions here. So, back to you and Tsukki. How about it? Have you guys had sex yet?"

A sharp intake of air was her response, though it came not from the shocked, saucer-eyed girl, but from her aunt behind her. Luckily for Kasumi, the tray of snacks and tea she had been carrying over to the girls remained, albeit shaken, in her grip; unluckily, of course, that she had had to be present for that little remark.

"D-don't be ridiculous," was all Akuha could stammer. Her eyes dashed over to the woman who was Tsukune's mother, and felt her own cheeks begin to flare red in reflection. This was unacceptable, her mind screamed. She had to make a break for it, fast. Her tongue reached for the first excuse that came to mind. "Where's the bathroom around here?" she demanded, as imperiously as possible.

Still in a mild state of shock herself, Kasumi lowered the trembling tray to the table and graciously directed her guest where to go. Akuha was out like a gunshot.

Up the stairs she flew, halting at the top to get her bearings in this unknown territory. It was down the hall to the right, the woman had said. Akuha sighed as she trudged in that direction. Already she had been caught violently off guard. By a simple question, no less. Still, she wondered, how should she have responded? The short-haired girl called Kyouko surely wasn't wise to any of her cousin's recent going-ons, and she couldn't actually suspect he and she had ever been horizontal playmates. It was a question born of familial overzealousness, nothing more.

One that happened, as a matter of fact, to be true. It had been an isolated incident, merely one solitary night, but she had indeed provided Tsukune his first foray into the world of carnal pleasures. And what of it? She didn't see why she should hesitate to share this information with his family if asked. It had no cause to bother her, and yet…Here she was, fled like a frightened mouse to escape uncomfortable inquisitions. She turned the corner, beginning to chide herself for allowing Tsukune to drag her there unopposed. Rain or not, she should have just waited it out, then returned to the airship as planned. Which reminded her, she would need to message Hayate soon, and bring him up to speed on this unfortunate change of circumstances. A month, she scoffed. I hope he's not expecting me to stay here for a whole month, no sir! As she grumbled silently, she reached the bathroom door, and absently, with a twist of the knob, pulled it open.

Perhaps, had she not been so preoccupied with her own frustration, it would have struck her sooner: as she was imminently to discover, she had not navigated Mrs. Aono's instructions correctly, having turned the wrong way at the start of the hall. Instead, then, of finding the empty bathroom she sought, she now flung open the door to a toasty, steam-choked room, so thick as to make the interior opaque. But Akuha was barely afforded the time to even register this sight, for almost simultaneously, the person within had been exiting himself, and now, instantaneously, as she stood beneath the mantle, the two thonked right into each other. With a startled yelp, Akuha lost her footing, and her world was abruptly flipped upside-down.

She realized, a few moments later, as she took air back into her winded lungs, that she had landed unceremoniously on her back. Her vision swam, then, clearing, cast into focus the looming visage blocking the light above her. She felt warm, and suddenly damp as a few last droplets of water struck her clothes, streaming down her sleeve. Even in the shadow, her keen eyes didn't miss the stunned fear in the boy's countenance, or the heavy gulp that passed through his throat. Tsukune was naked, from the waist up, at least, his broad chest plain in Akuha's view. His toweled leg had landed between hers, parting them, her dress riding up her pale calves and knees, but the strain had unraveled the tuck, and the towel slid to the floor at his feet. He was completely bare before her, partial erection pointing straight between her thighs like a spear primed for striking.

"U-um, I-I was just…." It was all he could force from his lips. But Akuha barely heard it. Her eyes were too busy wandering. There was no denying it. Human or not, Tsukune had the physical form to rival some of the legendary vampires of old. Images of their previous fuck session flashed before her eyes, an easy task with the boy as naked as he had been then. Her blood ran hotter, and a hungry ache stirred in the pit of her belly, and with it, much more significantly, a long-missed sense of power. It surged into her as if she drank from Tsukune. Too long had she been absent any whisper of the control and dominance to which she was accustomed. Ever since Moka had vanished, (though, she wondered, maybe even before then), she had been feeling uncommonly helpless when it came to certain matters, and as the time passed they had only piled on all the more, drowning her in a debilitating swamp. But here, and now, at least, this matter was one in which she still held clear power over the human—and one she had not been forbidden to use to her advantage, to boot. With this in mind, she moved, her hand slinking forward with catlike grace, and seized hold of his cock. Her fingers wrapped around the shaft, firmly. She could feel it pulse, and stiffen in her grip. Her eyebrows perked at the noise the boy made at the contact: a quiet whimper. She smirked in satisfaction. Yes, here was power, alright. "Aiya," she said softly, "eager, are we?"

"I-I was just—shower, and—you, and—bumped you down." The poor boy could hardly form a complete sentence. Most of his brainpower had become occupied by more basic instincts. Terror, for he was not ignorant of the damage the vampire could do to that most precious of areas she now held; a growing carnal desire as he stared at the ravishing woman pinned beneath him, crimson eyes wide, then narrowing with interest, the wild black hair splayed out in a tousle around her head, her breast rising with hastened breaths, the elegant neck and cheeks painted with the pink hue of excitement. Perhaps it was just his imagination, but the expected anger seemed absent from her eyes.

Normally, even she would admit, such a situation would indeed rouse her wrath. And yet, rather than rage, what she felt was the rapid ebbing of any hesitation about flipping Tsukune over, kicking off her underwear, and sinking her slit onto his thick slab of meat, driving him in to the hilt and letting his girth fill and stretch her tight, craving channel. She gave an experimental tug, eliciting another soft groan, and licked her pink lips. Perhaps she had avoided it long enough; her senses were feeling as overwhelmed as a small boat trapped in a wild storm, any concerns she retained being shouted down and choked by a vehement insistence to just go for it.

Go for it, that is, until in the corner of her eye something suddenly drew her attention. Turning her head, she merely voiced a flat "Oh" at the sight of Tsukune's cousin staring at them from the top of the stairs; though she was slanted sideways from Akuha's reclined viewpoint, the girl's look of thunderstruck shock was unmistakable. Tsukune noticed her just a second later – Akuha noted with interest he didn't wither in her still clutching hand, despite the audience. "K-Kyou-chan," he stammered, voice ragged. It was all he could say. Akuha thinned her lips. These two were definitely related, she thought. Stick 'em in a situation with nudity involved, and they'd freeze like a deer caught between a ring of vampires. Kyouko's jaw was so wide Akuha expected it to snap off at any moment; her eyes looked ready to pop from their sockets, and there was a discernible tremor in her hand. "Tsukki," she squeaked, "what are you….?" She trailed off, silent again.

A few moments passed without words, until eventually, Akuha realized she was tired of it. She felt a spark of her old mischief returning, and she mused suddenly at how she might have a bit of fun with this girl. Still holding Tsukune in her smooth, playful palm, she met the other girl's eyes as best as the angle would allow, then, the small mouth rising into a grin, she gave the shaft a quick, toying jerk, eliciting a shared gasp from the cousins, and with a laugh, said: "Do you mind? A little privacy, please. Or did you want to watch?"

"W-watch?" Kyouko echoed, slowly backing up to the stairs again; a few more steps, Akuha noted absently, and she might be in for a tumble. "B-but, you said downstairs you two weren't…." She paused, then, without warning, spun around sharply and bolted down the steps, screaming for even the neighbours to hear: "AUNTIE, THEY'RE HAVING SEX! THEY'RE HAVING SEX IN YOUR HOUSE!"

What happened next was a blur. Not that Akuha couldn't later recall it, just that she found herself almost immediately yanked violently to her feet by a risen Tsukune, as if he were planning to dash after the girl, but then, realizing he remained stark naked, rushed quickly in the other direction to his room, returned a moment later, shirt clearly backwards, grabbed her hand and with almost inhuman vigour dragged her with him down the stairs, yelling Kyouko's name.

A few minutes later, and all but Akuha were seated: Tsukune and Kyouko were on the couch to either side of Kasumi, trying to fan her off after she had nearly fainted at her niece's report, now sipping at cool water; the vampire stood and paced, too pleased with her new taste of old power to pay much attention to anything else.

"Sex education…." Kasumi was muttering. "I told him you needed sex education!"

"What?!" Tsukune blurted, completely mortified. "No, mom, it's not true! Nothing was happening!"

"Don't lie, Tsukki," Kyouko chided with a frown, her brows twisted together. "I saw you two, and just in time! How could you be so shameless, and with the two of us right downstairs?"

"K-Kyou-chan, you got it all wrong! Yeah, I was lying on top of her nak—in that position, but—Akuha, tell them!"

"Hm?" The assassin paused in her pacing; clearly she had not been paying attention. "Tell them what?"

"That it was just an accident," he growled. "That we weren't having—anything."

She stared blankly. She took note of how Kyouko and Kasumi turned to her questioningly, while Tsukune continued to blush indignantly as he demanded she answer. They were all waiting on her. A slow grin returned to her lips. Why not have still more fun with them, she thought. "An accident?" she echoed, affecting a wounded tone. "Aiya, how cruel of you to say that, Tsukune. Here I thought you were seized with passion at the sight of me, inflamed to raging desire till you could no longer hold back your unbridled craving for my body!"

He wouldn't have thought it possible, but the blush on Tsukune's face deepened. "W-what? What the hell are you talking about?"

"There's no need to pretend," she crooned. "They might as well learn sooner or later."

Desperate, Tsukune gestured fiercely. "Guys, I swear it's not true! Kyou-chan, quit looking at me like that! Mom—no—calm down, mom."

Kasumi's eyes had bulged at Akuha's vivid declaration, sweat clinging to her brow, her stomach and mind churning alike. She attempted a few calming breaths, failing at first, but eventually gaining a hold over her spinning head. "I should've known this was coming."

"Come on," Tsukune protested, "you can't believe we were doing that, right?"

"I don't know, honey," she sighed. "I mean, what am I supposed to think? After what happened last time, with all those girls running around, it's not like it takes a very large leap of faith. Plus, you're…Well, you're at that age, you know. I wouldn't be surprised if you were having…relations with this girl."

"Mom!"

Another calming breath, and a glance at their darkly draped guest, who returned the look with one of smiling innocence. "So, you…You have…Tsukune, is this young lady your girlfr—your girlfriend?" She didn't wait for his reply, sputtering: "But what about that Akashiya girl? Oh, she was such a lovely person. It would be a shame if things didn't work out between you two."

At the mention of Moka, Tsukune's face fell; before his mother could notice, however, Akuha's voice suddenly interjected acutely. "Akashiya? You mean Moka? You've met Moka?"

Kasumi turned her way, fixing the girl with a curious look. "Hm? Why, yes, dear. Moka Akashiya. She came to visit Tsukune last fall, along with a few other friends of his from the Newspaper Club. It was an…interesting visit, to say the least. How do you know her?"

"She's my little sister," she answered simply.

Kasumi's eyes widened a bit in surprise. "Really?" She turned to Tsukune, who nodded in confirmation. She paused, brows furrowing, visibly trying to sort through this jumbled overload of new information she was receiving. Beside her, Kyouko was equally silent, though she maintained a sour frown, eyes flitting between her cousin and this strange girl. Kasumi continued, trying to smile at Akuha: "Well, how's that for a coincidence?" A nervous laugh, and then: "It's strange, Tsukune never mentioned she had a sister."

"Ah, sisters, actually," he corrected. Might as well give her that much now.

"I see. And your name is Akuha, correct? Are you and your other sister or sisters also students at Tsukune's school?"

"No, she isn't," Tsukune clarified quickly. He blinked. The barest mention of Youkai Academy around his family set his mind on edge, making him desperate to leave the topic alone as much as possible. But, now that he had said as much, how could he account for Akuha? The three pairs of curious eyes were on him, waiting expectantly, including the vampire's, who herself had been about to answer in the negative. "She's a…Um, she's a…a teaching assistant," he said slowly, figuring it the most innocuous lie.

"Teaching assistant?" Kyouko echoed. "Huh, you look a bit young for…Hey, wait. You said little sister, didn't you? How old are you?"

"I'm twenty-one."

Again, the widening of Kasumi's eyes. "Oh, my. Twenty-one?" Turning to Tsukune once more, she said, gently, as if carefully choosing her words: "Tsukune, don't take this the wrong way—and if you're Moka's sister, I'm sure you must be just as wonderful, Akuha—but I'm not sure it's a good idea for you to get into a relationship with such a significant age difference involved. I know it might not seem much to you, but at your age, well, you're still a teenager, and there's a world of difference between seventeen and twenty-one, sweetie. Especially if you two are already…." She couldn't utter the word, but her eyes flashed to the stairs, and her meaning was obvious.

"Oh my god," Tsukune fretted dejectedly, his palm smacking against his face.

"It's just a maturity gap, is all I'm saying," Kasumi continued to ramble on, striving to fulfill her perceived parental duties. "I'm sure your father will agree, so maybe if the two of you could think about it—"

"Mom, stop. Stop. Please stop," Tsukune tried to speak over her.

"—and that doesn't even begin to account for the risk of pregnancy—"

Tsukune turned to the vampire, her amusement evidently drawing its line at the suggestion of pregnancy, and pleaded: "Akuha, c'mon, tell her. We're not like that."

Grown sour again at the mention of breeding with a human, her previous swell of proud mischief dissipating, she folded her brows in a frown, and shrugged. "Yeah, yeah. Might as well." Her voice containing little in the way of embarrassment, she flat out confessed to her teasing—though she adamantly emphasized she was not planning on carrying Tsukune's child—and let him explain the mishap upstairs.

"Oh, I see," Kasumi exhaled quietly when they were finished. "That's a relief. I am so not ready for grandchildren running around the house just yet." She paused, looking between the three others in the room, then settling her eyes on Akuha and smiling. "I'm sorry, what with Tsukune arriving home, bringing a new friend, and now getting caught up in all this insanity, we still haven't really been introduced, have we?" She inclined her head politely. "I'm Kasumi Aono, Tsukune's mother—as you know by now." She chuckled.

"And I'm his cousin, Kyouko." She eyed the lissom young woman warily, her natural suspicious tendencies provoked. No matter the explanation, after that image had been burned into her skull upstairs, she planned to keep an eye on this newcomer.

"Akuha Shuzen. Pleased to meet you. I'm a"—with a glance at Tsukune—"teaching assistant at Youkai Academy."

Kasumi started at the name. "I always thought that was an odd name for a school…"

"Y-yeah," Tsukune said, "It's like a theme, you could say. You know, 'a school for monsters'. It creates a pretty cool, Halloween type atmosphere all year round. You remember, right, Kyou-chan?"

"Hmm…Well yeah, I remember students running around in crazy monster costumes," she replied, stroking her chin. "Some of them even freaked me out!"

"Yes, it can be a little overwhelming," Akuha said, forming a toothy grin. Tsukune prayed they didn't catch her fangs. They didn't. "That's why I'm surprised they're letting just any old human wander onto the premises these days."

At his family's look of confusion, Tsukune blanched, going into damage control mode, laughing anxiously. "N-never mind her. She's just kidding. She's…in character. All the teachers there like pretending they're monsters and their students are humans."

"That sounds…unique," his mother replied, clearly thinking it was the most bizarre thing she'd ever heard. But she remained cordial, not wanting to offend her son's guest. "And what class do you help teach, dear?" she asked.

"Fighting!" she came back instantly. Tsukune thought it was almost as if she'd prepared that answer specifically. "It's my job to whip this runt into shape! No easy task, mind you," she said amicably, giving the boy an overly strong pat on the back. "Not with these limp muscles~"

"F-fighting? That sounds like a dangerous subject."

Kyouko, however, did not share her aunt's reservation. She bubbled with excitement. "Do you study martial arts, then? What style?"

A cheeky smirk. "Yep. But nothing you will have heard of, I'm sure."

"Try me!" the girl dared loudly.

"Very well. I instruct Tsukune in Southern Miao Jigen-do style. Not that he has much of an aptitude for it…"

"Southern…what?" Kyouko's brow arched as she ran the name through her mind, confusion registering as she came up empty. "I've never heard of that. Sounds fake."

"I assure you it isn't," came the smooth reply.

"Could you teach me some things, then?"

Akuha's eyes scanned her up and down, assessing. "No," she said bluntly. "Someone as fragile as you couldn't handle it."

Kyouko glared daggers at their guest, bolting up and cracking her knuckles impressively. "Oh yeah? Wanna see just how much I could 'handle it?'" Tsukune shook his head; his cousin had taken karate since she was little, and fancied herself a martial arts aficionado, besides. Regardless, he had the feeling if she knew just what their visitor was, she would be quaking in her boots. Kyou-chan's only brave like this when there's no danger present.

"Please!" Akuha loosed a laugh, jumping to her feet as well. "I could drop you like an egg."

"You wish, flat tits!"

"W-what? H-how dare you! You're not that impressive yourself, mop top!"

"I don't know what I was thinking. Tsukki would never be interested in an old lady like you! Look, you've even got grey streaks!"

"They're white! And at least my hair isn't gonna get me confused with a boy!"

Advancing forward as they argued, it wasn't long before their foreheads were pressed together forcefully, both girls staring fiercely into the other's eyes and growling savagely.

"No, no, none of that here please!" Kasumi urged frantically, trying to diffuse the rising tension, inserting herself between the pair and separating them to either side. "Kyou, calm down, this is Tsukune's friend, and we must be polite. I'm sure she was just joking—um—Tsukune! Will you be staying here for your break?" she asked, turning to her son for an eager change of subject. The two would-be combatants respected her wishes, removing themselves back to their seats, and redirecting their gazes elsewhere.

"Oh, is that ok?" Tsukune blinked as he responded, inching away from the disgruntled pair; he certainly didn't want to get caught in the middle of that. "It'll be a few weeks before we have to go back. You don't mind?"

"Not at all. It will be good to have you home."

"Then, in that case," he hesitated, preparing with a deep, measured breath for what he was about to say, "Can Akuha stay, too? She can take the guest room, if that's okay."

Kasumi and Kyouko shared a suspicious glance at each other, but before either could say anything, Akuha interrupted bluntly: "Tsukune, may I speak to you for a minute?" Rising, she motioned him to follow her out into the hall, where the others would not hear them. Once she was they were out of earshot, she lowered her voice to a peeved whisper and demanded an explanation. "What, have you got a brain parasite or something? We're not staying here. I told you we were gonna hightail it back to the ship in the morning—it's past morning! You think I want to live with humans for a whole month? No. And you're crazy if you think I'm letting you out of my sight to stay here by yourself."

"Akuha, wait, listen." He held up his hands in appeasement. "I know, but will you hear me out?" The crimson eyes narrowed, holding him firmly in their grip; she didn't say a word. Tsukune took that as permission to continue. "I know this wasn't part of the plan, and if you really wanted you could drag me back without much effort. It's just…." He paused, then muttered, speaking from the heart: "How can I explain….I haven't seen my family in a while, but now I actually have a chance to be with them again. And with everything that's been happening lately, with you, Fairy Tale, and…Moka…" here he swallowed, "I just…I need some time, some breathing room. A chance to clear my head, and get away from all the plotting and scheming and wondering if my next sleep will be my last." He took a calming breath. Akuha continued to stare at him, motionless, giving no indication of her reaction. "Well, I doubt that's very convincing to you. But, Akuha…This will probably sound silly, but if in any of the time we've spent together you've come to not hate me even a little, then please…please, I'm asking you, do me this favor. I'll owe you, big, just let us stay while we wait for Strega. Who knows, you might even like it here."

He stopped, having made his plea as best he could. But still, Akuha was silent. In fact, if they hadn't been standing face to face, with her eyes locked on him, arms folded, he would've wondered if she even heard him. Her face was blank. Tsukune noticed, examining, that last night's sleep, nightmare-ridden or no, had ultimately done the girl some good. The bags under the eyes remained, but lighter now, the shadows slightly lifting; the eyes themselves had been rekindled with a spark of the old confident fire he knew was her mien. They peered into his, sharp and burning. He had seen it upstairs, too—especially there, as he had tumbled them both to the ground, lying atop her, so close he could feel her quick, excited breath break against his neck….The flame had burned bright and hot then, even extending to her touch as she gripped him in her small hand.

But now was not the time to think about that. At that moment, she broke her silence; rather than the aggressive disbelief he anticipated, her tone was softer. "I don't know….This is a major thing you're asking. You realize that, right? And why should I? Just so you can have a grand old family reunion while the pissed off vampire lurks around the house? That's not my idea of a good deal."

"Think of it this way, then," Tsukune blurted out, letting a hint of frustration through. "I saw how happy you were living with Moka back when you were kids. Wouldn't you love to be with her again, together with your sisters, even for only a short time?" Silence. It wasn't even in question. "It's the same for me here. Give me this, and I'll do whatever you want in return—except, like, 'help me kill someone', or something, obviously."

From the way Akuha had almost imperceptibly softened at the mention of Moka, Tsukune knew he had made a small penetration. Even so, he could tell making this decision was a struggle for her, her expression moving from doubt to wistfulness to irritation and back again. At last, however, after several anxious moments, pinching the bridge of her nose, she slumped her shoulders and let out a heavy breath. "Fine," she said crisply. "If you're going to beg me so pitifully, I might as well grace your home for a while. I will have my own quarters, right? I don't want your relations barging in whenever they please to harass me. Let's see, I'll also have to tell Hayate to send over some bundles of my purification herbs so I can bathe properly; the Ancestors know I'll need to in this place."

Nodding profusely as Akuha rattled off her conditions, Tsukune was only half listening now, too overcome with relief and gratitude at the girl's acquiescence. And so, after he had assured her of all these matters, they returned to the others. It seemed apparent that Kasumi and Kyouko had been having a discussion of their own in the interim, which promptly ceased upon Tsukune's return. After informing his mother that Akuha did indeed wish to stay, he again asked if she might borrow the guest room for the duration of his "vacation." Kasumi, however, was hesitant. The thought of this strange new girl staying for a month in such close, private vicinity to her son, when just minutes ago they had, apparently, been in an alarmingly intimate position, was putting up a wall of reluctance in her mind. She told them such.

"Your father and I will have to discuss it when he gets home," she said, sparing a knowing glance at her grumpy niece; Kyouko was still focused on Akuha and her cousin with piercing suspicion. "In the meantime, however," Kasumi continued, breaking into a smile, "Akuha, you must at least stay for dinner. We would love to have you."

She agreed, and it was settled. Kasumi excused herself afterwards, having to go to the market to get more items for their increased number of mouths. Kyouko declined to accompany her, preferring to stay and keep an eye on the two ne'er-do-wells. Not that Tsukune noticed. He was too preoccupied with trying to concoct an argument to convince his parents to allow Akuha's sustained presence. As it happened, an idea struck him just as his mother was making to depart. Couldn't hurt, he thought. Although, knowing the vampire as he did, it might be best not to say this in her presence, even if it was a lie. Excusing himself for a second, making a beeline for the door, he caught up to his mother just as she had set foot outside.

"Hm? Did you want me to pick up something, Tsukune?"

He shook his head. "No. Listen, I wanted to let you know about Akuha. She's…kind of proud, and strong-willed, so I didn't want to say this in front of her. But she, well, I asked if she could stay because she doesn't really have anywhere else to go." He went on to explain how Akuha wasn't on speaking terms with her family, how they had had a falling out and now wanted nothing to do with each other. The school had been her usual abode during breaks, but they were undergoing renovations and had completely evacuated the premises, so he had offered her a place to stay during these troubled times. Asking her to keep this in mind, and possibly inform his father as well, he saw her off. As she drove away, Tsukune took in a deep breath. He really didn't like lying to his parents; God only knew how many he had told them today alone. Or how many he would need to before the end. He sighed, catching the eyes of a bird perched on the fence by the street. Its dark back to the boy, it croaked thickly in the light rain, now beginning to abate after the morning's heavy torrent; Tsukune clenched his fists almost unconsciously at the sound. With a sudden flap, the bird spread its grey wings and took flight, screeching to the sky, and was gone.

Shaking his head, Tsukune cast it from mind and entered the house. He had barely turned from shutting the door than, the light flashing in her eyes, he found himself face to face with his frowning cousin. Behind her, on the couch, Akuha was fiddling with her comm; Kyouko had taken the opportunity to confront Tsukune.

"Listen up, Tsukki." She was making no attempts to hush her voice. "Auntie may have believed you, but I know what I saw. I'm keeping my eye on you—both of you"—she cocked her head back, earning an indifferent glance from the other girl—"so don't go trying anything funny. Tsukki isn't ready for that kind of relationship. So even if your old man agrees to let her stay, there will be no bathing together, no sneaking into each other's rooms at night for indecent rendezvous, no—Hey, what are you smiling for? It is my job to teach you about life and the ways of love!"

"Sorry, Kyou-chan," Tsukune answered, smiling. To her displeasure, he, already taller than her, reached out to ruffle her short hair affectionately. "You're just kind of cute when you get all fussy like that."

"H-hey, quit it! I am the older one here. Me!" Her scowl deepened and reddened. Indignant, she brushed the offending hand aside and ran hers over her head. "Anyways, unfortunately I can't actually watch you at the moment. I got things to prepare – unlike some people, my school doesn't get such crazy long breaks. I'll catch up with you in a bit." With that, she turned and marched up the steps; Tsukune heard the door of her room shut behind her. Still smiling, he made his way over to the couch and Akuha, who was just now putting the comm back in her pocket.

"I just informed Hayate what's going on," she stated. "He'll bring the herbs by later, along with a couple of fresh clothes."

Tsukune turned quickly at that. "Wait, we can't just have him showing up on the doorstep. The others will ask questions."

"He's coming tonight. Everyone will be asleep, and he'll just drop the bags outside. I can climb out the window to get them."

And so, the matter was settled. With plenty of time to spare before evening, Tsukune made sure to help Akuha get settled in her room. A longer, welcome nap followed. A tour of the neighborhood was his next suggestion, though, famished as he was, he took a moment to dive into the fridge with gusto; Akuha refused anything. The tour was uneventful; the rain had ceased by this time, and most of his neighbors were not at home, a fact for which the girl was grateful. "At least there's nobody around," she said as they rounded a corner, coming in view of a quaint little playground. Tsukune recognized it as the one Kurumu and Mizore had torn to bits during their last visit, since repaired.

"I thought you'd like that," he responded.

"Still," she hesitated, "it's too cramped. Your houses here are too closely packed, and there is little in the way of breathing room or open, green spaces."

His brow raised in interest. "Oh? I wouldn't have guessed you had a preference for nature, Akuha."

She shrugged, averting her gaze from the solitary elderly woman who recognized Tsukune and waved at him. He returned the gesture. "Both the Miao and Shuzen manors," she said, "were out in the middle of nowhere. Just a colossal castle, surrounded by the birds and the trees. I grew up in such places. I like being able to find some peace and quiet where I know I won't be disturbed."

"I see." He scratched his head and chuckled. "Well, like you said, at least there's no one around to bother you at the moment."

"Too late for that," came the quip, her eye flashing towards him with some amusement.

He laughed dryly. "I'm serious. It might look cramped, but it's actually pretty peaceful around here. I don't think you'll have to worry about feeling smothered by humans. Usually most of them are off at work in the city, or their kids are at school, so they won't just be hanging around—"

"That reminds me," she interrupted, halting her motion and setting her foot on the bottom of the kiddy slide. Her eyes narrowed in distrust at Tsukune, searching his face for any sort of hidden intention. "I still have a bone to pick with you."

"Eh? What did I do?"

"You know exactly what you did," she glared. "This morning. Were you trying to get me killed or something?"

His head cocked. "What are you talking about?"

"Leaving me while I was sleeping, out in the open with all those people walking around. Can you imagine what they would've done to me had I not woken up a moment too soon? I could've been murdered! I could've had water poured down my throat before one of their little imps lopped my head off!"

"Oh, that's right, you're crazy," he said wearily, a comforting hand journeying upwards to massage his forehead.

"Excuse me?" She crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow.

"Nobody wants—Look, people aren't like that, Akuha," he sighed, thankful there was no one within earshot. "They don't just want to violently kill you on sight. You've gotta stop thinking like that."

"Don't be ridiculous," she shot back. "What, you say I should drop my guard? When I've been forbidden from attacking my enemy, no less? They'd be on me like a horde in no time, after my head."

"People don't do that to each other, Akuha!"

She was silent for a moment, then replied, coolly: "Except I'm not 'each other', Tsukune. I am not one of you."

"That doesn't matter," he protested. Why did these deluded fears persist in what seemed like an otherwise intelligent and capable person?

She cut him off, quieter now. "It does. I am a vampire. It makes all the difference in the world. Can you honestly tell me your history isn't full of stories glorifying the slaughter of my kind, and other ayashi, too? I'm sure you must know by now: many of those so-called legends, they were based on real incidents."

Tsukune made a noise of frustration, as if he recognized some truth in her words but struggled against them. A struggle born of necessity. He remembered her address in Yomotsu, how it had recalled in him all those tales he had heard growing up, of humans hunting and slaughtering monsters, and vice versa, that only after joining Youkai Academy had been revealed to him as not entirely fictional. She was not wrong about this. But still, he agonized, couldn't she see that this was the impetus behind his attempts, with Moka and their friends, at bringing humans and ayashi together, to reconcile with the blood-soaked road of their past for a harmonious co-existence in the future?

"I will not suffer an ignoble end like Carmilla," she continued defiantly, "or that ludicrously imagined Count in that book of yours – hunted down and butchered in my sleep, the life robbed from my breast so pitifully."

Another sigh. It was no use arguing with her once she got like this. He would not be able to convince her by mere repetitive insistence. For now, he would let it drop. "Well, I'm sorry for making you uncomfortable back there. If you're scared of being alone while we're here, I won't leave you."

Her head jerked sharply toward him, a pink hue cresting her along her face. "Don't be absurd," she scoffed. "It's not that I'm 'scared'. What I am is cautious. You heard Gyokuro. No incidents. I'm not even to defend myself from humans."

"Speaking of which, what's with that? Not that I want you to just attack anyone as you please," he firmly clarified, "but I'm surprised you're so docile when it comes to obeying her orders. I would've figured you'd just tell her to go—you know—herself, and do what you wanted anyway."

She looked at him perplexedly, and said, as if it were the most obvious thing: "What are you on about? She's the superior, I'm the subordinate. That's the way it goes, regardless of my opinion of her. Besides…" A palpable pause. A nervous catch of the lip between her teeth. "…Moka's safety is on the line this time. That's all that matters." Falling silent for a moment, her voice soon returned with renewed verve. "Plus, I can't let that old bitch think I have no self-control, or that I'm incompetent."

"No, I suppose not," he agreed kindly; her concern for Moka always filled his heart with a comfortable warmth, a sort of special hope. If only, he thought, he could somehow draw upon that love she had for her sister, use it to erase the blanketing darkness that churned in her soul….But, in the end, he conceded, it was probably a fool's errand. He could no more completely transform a person than he could fly to wherever Moka was now, much as he might wish both to be true. Thus distracted, he was caught by surprise as the sun suddenly peered out from behind a building low in the west, blinding him temporarily. It had gotten late, and they were expected.

"Let's go back," he said, breaking the silence. Akuha, who had just been preparing to see how quickly she could dash up the slide, blinked once, then shook her head clear and agreed.

They returned with the light still at their backs. Tsukune's father had come home in the meantime, while his mother had just begun to labor in the kitchen. It appeared that Koji had, without hesitation, consented to Akuha's presence, and had picked up some extra food items on his way home. Items that now, much to the vampire's confusion, Kasumi asked her to help prepare. "It will be fun!" she insisted over both of their protests. Tsukune was especially vehement; he remembered with dread the last time Moka had tried her hand at the culinary arts. Sure, it tasted good in the end, but…Oh God, the cost! If such a trait ran in the family….Wishing to spare his home similar torched horror, he voiced his objections. But his mother merely repeated her casual assurance, and ushered Akuha into the kitchen. Tsukune suspected it was more a sense of being a good host than anything; she wished to keep their new guest entertained and feeling like part of the family. Sweet intentions, indeed, but he would keep within close proximity to the fire extinguisher, just in case. And good thing, too; three small, containable fires later (she had just been asked to steam the rice, for heaven's sake!), with nervous sheen Kasumi cautiously relegated Akuha to chopping vegetables.

Hardly a better choice by any stretch of the imagination, thought the boy. Eschewing the notion of being monikered "Tsukune the One-Handed," he took refuge behind the counter, preparing to duck in case of suddenly projectile cutlery. As he quickly discovered, however, this wasn't needed. With superhuman speed and precision, the carrots were chopped and the yams skinned; Akuha's blade flashed across the cutting board, catching the light with each lightning-quick stroke.

I guess it's not surprising for an assassin...Tsukune swallowed the lump in his throat. This was not the first time he was glimpsing her skill, and far from the most serious situation, but still…Maybe I shouldn't provoke her so carelessly. Especially if she's got a knife.

"My, my!" Kasumi was in equally clear astonishment. "I think we've found your particular cooking talent. Here, why don't you try this, next?" Akuha gave her a pleasant smile in return, and brought her attention back to her instructions: her attention, noticed Tsukune, but not her focus. Her success with the cutting had perhaps given her a boost in confidence, as she now tackled the salmon rose she had been assigned with a master chef's eye for precision and detail, slicing and arranging the slippery strips to perfection. Despite this, there was no proud glint in her eye, no sign of intense concentration in her manner; her mind, rather, seemed to be elsewhere, so much so that Tsukune marveled she never even once slipped and nicked a finger on the blade (the result of years of hard training, no doubt).

Well, this is a strange place for her, and we're going to be staying for a while. She must still be trying to get herself oriented. With that thought, he made to help his mother with the rest of the preparations, and eventually, setting everyone's places. Kyoko and his father came rushing down the stairs, the latter catching Tsukune alone as he placed the last plate on the table. Slapping a hand on the boy's shoulder, he pulled him close and said, grinning: "Your mother asked my opinion on letting that Akuha girl stay, you knew that? We've both agreed you're responsible enough to handle it; you're a young man after all, Tsukune. Sooo…" Glancing around surreptitiously, he lowered his voice further. "On the way back, I also stopped to pick up a little something for you." He reached then into his pocket and slipped into Tsukune's hand a few small packets which, as soon as he glanced down at them, made the boy go wide-eyed with stupefied humiliation. "Just in case you and that pretty lady decide to, ah, go a little nuts when we're not around," he laughed merrily.

"W-well, isn't that something?" Tsukune choked out. "B-but it's like I told Mom and Kyou-chan. We're not…together...like that. Besides, you know about Moka, don't you? Akuha is her sister, and she just needs a place to hang out for a bit. Really, nothing's going to happen." Although dinner will now be pretty uncomfortable, he mourned silently.

A dinner, they were quick to discover, their new guest would not be attending. Citing an upset stomach, Akuha removed herself from the group, taking with her some fish and duck meatballs she said she would eat later, trudging upstairs to her new lodgings.

"What is wrong with that girl?" Kyouko demanded through a healthy mouthful. She swallowed. "Tsukki, at least the other ones you brought home were nice. I can't approve of this one, however." Then, rising and jabbing her finger forward to the point: "As your big sister, I forbid you from dating this girl!"

"Kyou-chan—"

"Nope. I'm putting my foot down."

Tsukune sighed. Kyou-chan meant well, and he would always love her for it, but she had, as he might put it, an underdeveloped tolerance for listening. Better to just go with the flow, when it came to her stubbornness. "Yes, Kyou-chan, whatever you say."

The girl seemed satisfied her sororal responsibility was fulfilled, and lowered herself back in her seat. "Hmph. Good, I'm glad we got that settled. So even though she's going to be staying with you, at least I know there will be no inappropriate incidents."

"Now, now, Kyou," Koji butted in, gesturing agreeably, "don't be too harsh on your cousin. He is a young man, you know, and men have certain urges they need to tend to."

"Oh?" Kasumi raised an eyebrow at her husband from across the table. "Go on. What 'certain urges' do men have?"

If nothing else, it could be said about Koji Aono that he wasn't easily fazed by what others might regard as talking yourself into a pickle. "Now, now. You know you're my only urge, honey. I'm talking about boys Tsukune's age. It's simple biology. They're ready to sow some of those wild oats, pollinate some flowers. Can't blame him too much for that!" he said with a laugh.

As abjectly embarrassing as this was to the subject of the conversation—enough to make him seriously consider joining Akuha upstairs—he found, a tad to his surprise, that it wasn't quite so bad as he might have expected. The topic aside, there was something about this scene that plucked the right strings in his chest, sending warm, soothing sensations radiating throughout his body. He recognized the cause easily enough. It wasn't complicated. The long-missed comforts of home and family overrode such trivial discomfort with little resistance; indeed, it actually seemed to make him appreciate it all the more.

"Let's not be giving him any ideas," Kasumi mumbled from the corner of her mouth. Then, her tone growing more serious: "But, really, I don't blame her." She was referring to, as she had earlier told her husband as well, what Tsukune had said about the necessity of Akuha's visit. "Her usual home at school gone, and such a heartbreaking situation like that between her and her family….It's not surprising she would be a bit withdrawn around us. Tsukune, I want you to make sure she's comfortable while she's here, okay?"

"Yeah, I know. I can be a good host, Mom. And nothing—" he gave them all a firm, pointed look "—is going to happen between us."

"Don't forget what your mother is saying, though," said Koji, wiping his mouth calmly. "I would suggest showing her a bit around town, treating her to a fun time. Who knows? Maybe you can get her to warm up to us enough to join us for a meal sometime."

Such comfort, however, was not to come; indeed, Akuha refrained from eating with them for the next several days, taking her meals in her new room with the door shut tight. In fact, the door remained firmly in that position for the majority of those days, excluding excursions she would make to bathe (Hayate had brought her cleansing herbs as requested) and fetch meals. Tsukune could only guess what she was doing, or not doing, in there. Initially attempting to put in motion his father's idea, he quickly found his offer refused. He had been trying to invite her to the nearby community center where his family were members, thinking her interest might be ignited at the prospect of giving her muscles a workout. But she did not bite. It was an expected reaction, he figured: she probably didn't want to visit a place humans frequented, although, as he discovered upon arrival, it wasn't exactly packed, with people trickling in and out at a quiet pace.

"Well, her loss!" he said to himself, pulling his arm into a stretch. "If she wants to do her own sulky thing, I'm not gonna beat my head against a wall."

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Moka coughed, the echo ricocheting along the cavern walls. Moisture dripped from weeds that had crept through the cracks in the slate-colored stone, providing a sort of ambience for the journey, and occasionally finding a target on the irritated girl's shoulder. She stumbled, her foot sliding forward on a patch of sodden moss, landing in yet another icy puddle that dotted the path. Sickness usually didn't come her way, but this dark, dank space was providing her with an unwelcome test, especially in the somewhat weakened state she had become over the past week.

For it had been about this long since she had been taken from her sisters' company and brought aboard the submersible base of one of Fairy Tale's most grotesque—as she had come to view him—leaders. Or, higher officer, as he had been until recently. Miyabi had been the second-in-command for the Second Subdivision, under an ailing captain with whom he had, apparently, had several heated disagreements regarding the organization's policies and actions—so she had heard from some carelessly tossed about gossip from some of her guards, when they had thought her deep in dreams. She knew not the specifics of their contention, but it no longer mattered: the old man had been found just days ago, succumbed at last to the fever and lying cold in his bed. Though she had never even met him, Moka couldn't help but feel a brief touch of sympathy for the deceased, as it seemed like his passing had barely been pronounced than Miyabi took command as the division's leader, and immediately set them full steam ahead toward the next objective; no mourning, or indeed, much mention of the death, occurred, as far as she had witnessed. So much for affection among comrades, she had thought then.

This event aside, as Miyabi had initially promised, her first few days were uneventful, time passing by on that table in her cell, clad in the chains that suppressed her power, her only real company occasional visits from her sister Kahlua to bring her meals. And while the demure blonde would try to engage her in conversation, Moka was never in a particularly chatty mood. For the most part, she was left alone with her silent thoughts. Such interminable isolation, she knew, might have driven a lesser mind mad, but she had fierce strength of will, not to mention other matters which occupied her focus. One in particular: but try as she might, her voice could not reach her counterpart. Omote had all but vanished from her soul, and her initial slight concern had swollen to deeper worry. Indeed, if anything were to drive her mad, it would be this, but she kept her chin up, and her heart steadfast, and merely continued in her attempts.

Another matter there was that ordinarily might have been cause for worry. Shackled as she was, and sapped of strength, she might otherwise have been vulnerable to lusty guards seeking to take pleasure where it was offered. Nothing of the sort occurred, however. She had the sneaking suspicion that, even if the notion had crossed some of their dim heads, fear would act as their inhibitors. She had seen it. Not around Miyabi, or either of his two cohort captains; oh, the guards respected them, alright, and displayed it accordingly, but it was not when directed at these superiors that she glimpsed fear in their eyes, the terror she had come to recognize well after seeing it in so many of her own victims, just before they learned the painful mistake of crossing a vampire. Such a look only leaped with fright onto their faces when in the presence of her sister. Whenever Kahlua would come to her, Moka could practically feel the sweat running down their necks, or hear the thunderous thudding of their hearts. Of all the ayashi on this vessel, it was clear that none inspired such terror among the crew as the "Princess" of Fairy Tale. And it was this, Moka surmised, that held any potential attackers in check; for unless Kahlua had explicit commands against disciplining the rank-and-file as she saw fit, which Moka doubted, she imagined that anybody who dared try to take advantage of her would be turned into a vaporous cloud of crimson mist.

Moka would have taken pride in her sister's power and reputation, if in more normal circumstances, and if not for one disconcerting thing that drew her alarm. Indomitable as Kahlua was, she seemed to shrink like a flower without sun or water in Miyabi's presence, and on more than one occasion, she remembered with disgust, she had seen the snake's hands wander to places on her sister's body which, had it been her, would have resulted in said hands being stuffed down his throat. She broached the topic once, heatedly, with Kahlua, but had been met with a quiet denial and change of subject. Whether she simply didn't want to speak ill of her superior, or something else, Moka did not know, but she could appreciate all the better the scorn and verbal abuse Akuha had heaped upon the man, during her brief stay aboard the airship.

So the first days ran their course. Surprisingly, Miyabi took a temporary leave of his crew, departing the sub at some unknown location just a couple of days previous, leaving command to the other two captains, Lester Reilly and Volga Lagunov. Of these two she had not seen much in the beginning, or had much interaction with, either. She had come to learn, though, just what they were; odd, rare ayashi, the likes of which she had scarcely heard. The former: a bunyip, a dog-faced swamp-dwelling beast of Aboriginal origin that had, apparently, a bizarre mish-mash of monstrous physical traits. The latter: a vodnik, a water spirit that remained surprisingly human in appearance but for gills and webbed hands, and would attempt to drown swimmers and fishermen and trap the souls in their cups. It was he who had assumed control of the operation in Miyabi's absence, and he, who, if Moka had to pick a more hateful captain than Miyabi, would be the prime candidate, that sallow-faced, wire-haired goblin who made even her hairs stand on end with his shrill voice and knobby fingers. Already he had once threatened her friends with little care, and she cursed her lack of strength, having no doubt she could snap him like a twig if she was her usual self.

It was also he who now led the small group that had disembarked and travelled to this location, this close, thick-aired network of subterranean caverns through which she now plodded, feeling like a beast of burden. The werewolves who had stood guard by the entrance had been all too happy to let Kahlua return to where she had visited some months earlier, wholly ignorant of true intent. This place, being sacred to their kind, the source of the barrier around their woods and cliffs and dens, was definitely guarded, but unvisited by any of the wolves who lived in these parts.

The going was silent but for the falling droplets and plodding footsteps; no one spoke. The tunnels twisted through the earth, rising, then dropping, and again. At last they came to the exit, pale light at the end of darkness. They emerged into a grove soaked in moonlight. Tall birches lined the dirt paths, their boughs hanging over the party like ghostly frames, the leaves whispering through the night's calm breeze. As she walked, Moka saw bright flashes on the small stones that freckled the green turf, catching the moonlight and throwing it back off amongst themselves until the ground seemed like it was jeweled with stars. In the center of the place stood a shining pillar, humming with energy amid the trees, which at second glance looked as if they were bent in worship to it.

This was a holy place, the girl knew. She could just sense it. She had not glimpsed the sacred spots in either the Snow Village or Yomotsu for herself, but if they were anything like this, small wonder they were revered. She blinked her eyes a few times, to regain clear vision. The energy permeated the very night air, seeping into her clothes and flesh, throbbing with vibrant life. This was a place of light, of power, where whatever divine ancestors that walked the earth in ages past might even now still linger, watching over and protecting their children from harm. Such was the gift of the barrier.

A shrill voice interrupted her awe, reifying the scene before her once again. "We're here," announced Lagunov. With a wave of his hand, he dismissed the escort back into the tunnels to stand guard, leaving just himself and Moka alone with Kahlua and Reilly.

"So, what's the next stage of your brilliant plan?" Moka inquired. Whatever it was, she had confidence that such a place could not be defiled by creatures as base as they.

At that, the man raised a thin eyebrow, turning a toothy smile to her. "Oh? I'm surprised no one's told you yet. Not even you, Kahlua? You didn't mention anything to her?"

Kahlua's pretty brows knotted together, and she addressed her sister: "You don't remember? I told you of them before, the actions we had taken across Japan—the world, actually. I didn't know any more at the time, but now….

As she spoke, something plucked at the chords of Moka's memory. She recalled what she and Tsukune had learned, there aboard Akuha's ship, about…. "The eggs!" Jerking her head sharply back to the central pillar, she squinted, peering through the gleam, and, seeing, felt a cold weight drop into her stomach. It had already been done. This, then, was another place where Fairy Tale had planted its seed, and let it bear fruit. The eggs crowded around the base of the pillar like cysts; as if they had been waiting for Moka to spot them, they now almost seemed to absorb the radiant light of the grove into their own dark masses. She felt revolted by them: tentacles that seemed almost alien flowed like grooved, black vines into each egg's smooth slate skin, under which eerie streaks of blue branched out, glowing like veins, pulsing, draining the life slowly from this hallowed ground.

"This is sick," was all she mumbled. She wondered if Kokoa and Ruby had felt this kind of nausea. Did the werewolves even have a hint what was happening under their otherwise expert noses? She had no idea if, wherever they were, this land was Gin's home, but she blanched at the thought of it being destroyed, nonetheless.

"Sick?" Again, Lagunov. "Hmph. You clearly don't appreciate beauty when you see it, girl."

She ignored that. Truthfully, she felt like hurling a good "fuck you, imp" his way, but she had more important questions. "Why are we here?" she demanded. "What do you need me for? I already told you, I won't cooperate."

"And I already told you, we don't need it. You're here, and that's all that matters. Let's get started, shall we? Lester."

At the man's name, Moka suddenly felt a heavy pressure on her shoulders, pushing her down to her knees. Had she had the strength, it would have been easy to resist and counter, but as she was…She landed with a thud and a grunt, the man's thick hands keeping her in place while Lagunov began circling around her, mumbling something, too softly for her to hear, but it sounded vaguely like a chant. To her side, Kahlua stood as still as the pillar, and almost as luminous, watching the proceedings with a reserved, yet nervous expression, white-gloved hands clasped together delicately at her waist, her golden locks streaming in the sudden wind like shining waves. She tried to move, but Lester's hand clutched tightly at her flesh; he was undoubtedly strong, and she winced.

"Don't hurt her, please." Moka was surprised to hear her sister speak, but even more so that, beneath the usual worried tone her voice often held, there seemed to be a spark of warning.

More than this, however, she could not dwell on, for it was at that exact moment that she felt her body seize up, stiff as a board, and freeze her in place. W-what the hell? She could not speak the thought. Around her, Lagunov's chanting grew louder, more brimful with energy. Her very blood seemed to pulse, and surge, and race with ancient potency; her senses began to dim until they were dominated by its seething roar, dampening and muffling all other sights and sounds around her. Distantly, as if on the horizon, the pillar glowed, regaining its light even under the eggs' draining, and the stars returned in glory to the grass, setting it alight with cool, white flame, swelling and blazing around her, bearing her up on a sea of light into the sky itself, from which boomed and crashed all around her the deafening din of gleeful chanting, like star-crested waves from the very heavens above. There was a darkness somewhere, miles below, but she paid it no heed, caught up in the rapturous drone that came to fill her entire being, tossing and turning her amid the blazing sky-bound ocean.

Something clicked faintly within her; then, abruptly, it was finished. The waves calmed, their starlight foam extinguishing; the thunder ceased, dimming to a mortal voice before falling silent; and the seas parted, dropping the girl from their waters to plummet back to the world below. With a painfully sharp gasp, she landed, and was in her own body again. She was back in the grove, the suddenly frigid air biting against her sensitive, still tingling flesh. The pillar and the rocks folded their light back into themselves as a cloud drifting below the moon. She felt drenched, first imagining it to be from the waters that had carried her above, then realizing it was merely her own body, covered in a fervent sweat. A hand was on her shoulder. Not a hard, heavy one, but soft, and reassuring. She could smell her sister's jasmine scent as the hand stroked down her back, soothingly. "Are you ok, Moka?" The voice still came somewhat distantly, as one calling from one end of a hall to another. As for her own, it took a few moments more to find it. When she did, she croaked a simple "Yeah," letting her breathing return to normal before attempting to speak again.

The next time she did, it was to demand answers. She remained on her knees, too weary to even try to rise, but no less bold for the experience.

"I suppose we can tell you now," Lagunov conceded, "since you are already part of the proceedings. What do you think, deary?" This, to Kahlua, who still squatted by her sister's side.

Moka felt her hair brush against her own as she nodded. "Yes. She deserves to know what just happened, and what we're going to ask of her from now on."

So they explained to her for the first time the entirety of Fairy Tale's plan. What she had just experienced, it turned out, was a process of synchronization. She had been brought to this place, where the eggs Fairy Tale had sown lay waiting to hatch, so that she might serve as the key to their awakening. When she questioned this, she listened with growing horror to its meaning: the eggs were the offspring of the demon Alucard, the first vampire and Shinso (the name, for an indefinable reason, quietly rang some far-off bell in Moka's memory). As the daughter of Akasha Bloodriver, she, too, possessed similarly powerful blood, the same as flowed through Alucard, who was destroyed centuries before, and through those eggs now before her. It was Fairy Tale's intent to take her to the other locations where these demonic spawns had been planted, and perform the same ritual each time in order to synchronize her blood with theirs. Then, once she had been attuned to every single cluster of eggs, her blood would be used to awaken them all at once; and in the act of hatching, the newborn creatures would drain from each of their scared hosts—such as this pillar, or the tree of Yomotsu—the remainder of their spiritual energy.

"But, when that happens—!"

Yes, Lagunov told her. When that happened, the barriers surrounding each of these ayashi homelands would evaporate into nothing, exposing them to the outside world for the first time in modern history. Exposing them, he chirped, to the humans.

Moka tried to hide her shock and fear. As devoted as she and Omote were to the cause of establishing harmony among ayashi and humans, and despite knowing Tsukune and his family to be truly good people, she could not deny the danger inherent in such a plan. She did not believe humans were yet prepared to accept those like her, if they were to be revealed to the world so suddenly and in such numbers. It was this fact, she learned, that they were counting on. Stunned and terrified by the existence of these monsters, the humans would strike, without hesitation or mercy, destroying those places and all their inhabitants before anyone could even suspect.

"Then why the hell are you doing this, if it's going to result in all those deaths?!"

"That is the point. Once the humans sate their hunger for massacre, the rest of our kind will throw their full support behind Fairy Tale and what we aim to achieve. Even the ones who currently favor humans won't stand in our way when we send Alucard's children to trample their cities to dust, eradicating them from this earth once and for all!"

She could only gape; whether it was solely the horror at this revelation, or if it was enhanced by the residue of her previous high, she could not tell, but her mouth was dry, and she felt as stiff as she had before. Her fingers dug with anger into the dirt, clogging her nails with it. Her voice was level, but wavering. "You want war with the humans…To kill them all…And you'd sacrifice your fellow ayashi to justify it?"

"Their sacrifice will be remembered, and honored," he said solemnly.

"That's bullshit!" She found she could scream now, if hoarsely. Then, frantically, to her sister: "Kahlua, you can't—! You can't allow this! I know you never disobey orders, but for heaven's sake, you're talking about mass genocides! Do you really hate humans that much to go along with them?"

Kahlua had risen, removing her hand from Moka, and now looked at her compassionately, with apology written in her eyes. "It's as you said, Moka. My orders are absolute. It's not my place to question them."

Moka was finding she had to fight to stop her head from spinning. This was all too much—too much, too quickly. She could barely even process….Her head swam with dizziness. Kahlua's hand—she recognized the touch—returned urgently to her back, the other to her shoulder, apparently trying to keep her from collapsing. But she did not care. She had to leave. She had to break free of this place, get away from these people, back to Tsukune and warn him…warn him, and the others! Yes, she had to find Tsukune right away. Find Tsukune...Tsukune...But wait, Tsukune is with—

"Does Akuha-neesan know?" Her voice was unexpectedly soft.

A pause, then: "Yes."

"Is that why you guys took me? Cause she wouldn't go along with you, butchering millions of her own kind?"

Lagunov laughed, a delighted cackle. "Really? Akuha Shuzen? Surely you know your sister better than that. No, that girl has no objections to this course of action."

She could not say she was completely taken aback; even so, she had harbored the faint hope it was not so. "Then why did Miyabi want me?" This, through clenched teeth.

He paused, regarding the pulsing eggs behind him, almost fondly. "The ones who lead the charge against our sworn enemy, who bring about the destruction of humans everywhere…Praise for them as heroes will be on the tongues of all ayashi. And what better praise than the mantle of Dark Lord? The mightiest ayashi whose names are spoken with awe and worship? Such an honor would be wasted on Akuha. Working together, however, the three of us…."

"So that's what you want? To be the hero who 'saved the world' to ayashi everywhere? How pitiful," she snorted. "You're mad, anyway. Two of the three Dark Lords, at least, are still alive, and weaklings like you couldn't possibly rob the titles from them."

A sudden motion forward, and with a raised hand it appeared he was going to strike her with a thick-nailed hand. She shut her eyes and braced herself, but the sting never came. She looked up; it had been stopped before descent by another hand clutching the wrist, smooth and elegant around thin skin and bone. Kahlua looked rather surprised at her own bold action, grabbing a superior officer like that. "Please don't hurt her," she said, firmly nonetheless. "She's going through enough."

Narrowing his beady eyes at her, Lagunov jerked his hand back to his side and growled: "Be sure Miyabi will hear about this offense." Nevertheless, he did not make to strike Moka again, but rather motioned to Kahlua to get her on her feet and moving. Their work here was done. It was time to go. "You will be given some time to recover," Reilly spoke for the first time, "before the next site."

"Yes," the vodnik grumbled, clearly unhappy. "Though it will drag things out far too long for my liking."

"She has to regain some strength," the bald man reminded him. "We can't have her dying in the middle of the ritual."

"No, I suppose not," came the almost forlorn reply. "Shinso or not, even she couldn't handle the strain too frequently. I suppose we'll have to stay on schedule."

And so they left the darkened grove where werewolves never wander, regrouping with the escort back in the tunnels. The others took the lead, leaving the Shuzen sisters bringing up the rear, alone. Under her breath, loud enough for only Kahlua to hear, Moka said: "This isn't over."

Kahlua could do nothing but give her another weak smile. "It is, sweetie. We'll be preparing for the next synchronization soon. Why fight it? Nothing's going to happen to you, I promise." The hand she attempted to lay on Moka's shoulder was angrily deflected. "Is it Tsukune?" she ventured after a moment. "Are you worried about what will happen to him in all this? If you'd like, I could make sure his life is spared; you could keep him as your own! Isn't that what you want—kyaa!?"

With a thud, she took a dive; her foot had caught in her dress and sent her sprawling face first in a patch of dirt. Several of the guards ahead rushed back to help her to her feet; when she had shaken enough clumps from her bangs to see clearly again, Moka's silver-streamed back was already leaving her behind in the dust, joining with her captors as they walked ahead.

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Thus did Tsukune spend the next few days, mostly on his own, continuing the training he had begun under Moka with weights and laps in the center's pool, spending time with his parents where they could, and Kyouko as well, for her between-class visits seemed to increase now that he was home. She even managed to free up enough time to accompany him during his workout session one evening, and although she was not much one for weight lifting, she found an equal amount of pride and satisfaction in overseeing her cousin's regimen, merely under the impression he wanted to get stronger for some punk bullies at school, rather than in anticipation of pitched battle with the fate of the human race on the line.

Of Akuha, again, he saw very little during that time. In the morning, afternoon, and evening, he would see her take the food given her to her room, with only light conversation with his family members, then exit once again to bathe, and upon returning, shut the door once more. It seemed like it should have been a relief to Tsukune: he was, for the most part, free to do as he pleased, and in his own home and neighborhood to boot; the surly vampire in the guest room left him free from harassment, so he didn't have to constantly be on guard against her stormy temperament. And yet, it was not. For some reason, her deliberate isolation started to grate on his patience, kindling irritation on his part. Was she sulking again, as she had before? Lying in bed, despondent, doing nothing but mourning Moka's absence? He needed her at her best so they could retrieve Moka as smoothly as possible, but also, strange as it felt to admit, he wanted it.

On the fourth day, he had had enough. Arriving home a bit later than usual from the center, a cold, starlit night already spread across the sky, he discovered his parents had early mornings tomorrow, and had gone to bed. Locking the door behind him and flicking off the few remaining lights as he went, he forced his weary muscles up the stairs to change his sweaty clothes and make ready to turn in himself. After doing so, he walked back toward his room, passing Akuha's on the way.

He paused in front of her door. Shut tightly, as expected, and not even a sliver of light shining out from underneath. She was probably asleep as well. Surprisingly, though, it was unlocked. A spark of frustration broke through his fatigue, and he prepared to burst in and demand explanation. But at first touch of the doorknob, a cold chill pricked at his neck, a sense of dread taking root in his gut. He did not know why, but he felt fear, something in his blood warning him to stay away. There was a darkness inside, almost palpable through the doorway, the kind he had not felt since….Nevertheless, he had dealt with such fear and danger too often to now be dissuaded. He entered slowly, creaking the door open a crack, then more, and more, stepping cautiously inside, his heart pounding loud enough that he imagined anyone nearby could hear. The room was black; if not for the faint moonlight leaking through the window, as well as his own tense, heightened senses, he probably wouldn't have been able to see his hand in front of his face. Even so, he could see little at first, just the window and foot of the bed. Pure black silence, save for his thumping chest and slow breathing. He ventured to whisper the girl's name, but found the sound catch and die in his throat. He swallowed, his nape feeling more vulnerable still, eyes darting this way and that, trying to get a clear glimpse of the room and where its occupant might be.

Swiveling to his side once more, he was suddenly face to face with a pair of burning, blood red lights, freezing his heart and lungs, shocking him back towards the window. Pale met pale as Akuha stepped into the dim glow of the moon after him, though her features, aside from her eyes and his slightly oversized t-shirt and old pair of shorts that she wore, were still obscured. "What do you want?" Her voice was hollow, yet some strange charge echoed through it, as well as, Tsukune thought he heard, a soft growl. "This may be your house, but it's still quite rude to barge into a lady's room. Come for a midnight toss in the sheets? Sorry to disappoint you, but I'm not in the mood." The taunt came somewhat weakly.

"No, that's not it." He peered harder, but could not make out her form any better, even with his eyes growing used to the darkness. She remained too far from the brightest rays of the moon. "But I guess you like this room, huh? You've certainly been spending a lot of time in it."

The red glow narrowed. "What business is it of yours what I do? I am not your slave; it would do you well to remember who's in charge here."

"Look, I'm not trying to dictate what you have to do. But you're my guest here, Akuha, and my parents were right. I should at least be a more hospitable host, making sure you enjoy yourself as best I can. Why don't you come with me tomorrow? It couldn't hurt to try something unfamiliar."

She laughed; the sound did nothing for Tsukune's tightened nerves. "Right, and flea-bitten rats couldn't wipe out a third of your population."

"Don't you think that analogy is stretching it a bit?"

She grunted, and fell silent for a moment, before speaking again. "I'm going to bed now, please leave."

Not like her, he thought, to drop the subject so easily, without a fight. There was something…off about this whole scene. "Wait a second." Moving forward, he stretched out his arm to grab her own, when suddenly he felt a light pain surge through his knee as it collided with something hard. Akuha had left the garbage pail directly under the windowsill. He cursed, and, bending down to rub the injured joint, caught whiff of a very peculiar smell emanating from the receptacle. A mixture of rotten and sweet, almost. Squinting inside, he was soon shocked at the source of the odor. Rice balls peeked out at him, noodles, a speck of beef, all mixing together in a swirl of appetizing refuse. "This is….This can't be…?"

The pieces started to fit together as recognition dawned: all this dumped food before him, it was the sum total of the past few days' worth of meals. Tossed aside with nary a nibble, from what he could tell. "Akuha, have you been—?" The question was so bizarre he couldn't even finish it. Yet, here was the evidence. "But, why?"

"Why?" She had stopped, and now stood half-turned from him, so that he could only make out the side of her face. "I'd think it would be obvious. It occurred to me that anything prepared by human hands carries with it great risk; without my usual chefs here, I can't trust it to be safe, and free of more…insidious dangers."

"What, you think my mom is trying to poison you? That's insane, even for you."

She shrugged. "Better safe than sorry."

His voice grew louder now, indignant. "I'll have you know my mother has never poisoned a house guest in her life, Akuha. Or anybody, for that matter. And she wouldn't start even if she knew what you were." At the wild look that now spun to face him, he quickly added: "No, don't worry, I didn't. I won't, either, definitely. I never even told her about Moka and the others; I'm sure not going to break the news using you as the example."

The eyes relaxed, and the girl collapsed lazily onto the bed behind her. "That's good," she droned. "Better for everyone's sake, that way."

"I'll have to ask you to please not make threats against my family," Tsukune said coolly. When he was met with silence, he sighed, finally letting his tensed muscles go lax. By this point, and perhaps with his Shinso blood actually providing some enhancement to his senses, his vision had grown accustomed to the dark, well enough to fully see, with the aid of the moon, the features of the spread-eagled girl before him. Her face was ghostly white, more than normal, and the cheeks looked thin and wasted; she seemed smaller, somehow, too, as if her very frame had shrunk slightly in its want; and on her arm, as he leaned closer, he saw a few scattered dots that perplexed him at first, but soon became apparent as puncture marks, where the girl had nicked the flesh with her fangs in an attempt to sustain herself on her own life's blood. She quickly covered the skin with a hand, though, as she noticed his attention. "You haven't eaten a thing all this time, have you," he said calmly.

"You don't need to trouble over it. I can take care of myself." There was that odd hint of a growl in her voice again—no, not her voice, it clicked in his head; it came from a little way south.

"So, what are you planning to do?" he asked matter-of-factly. "Starve yourself for a whole month? I'm sure whatever training you had must've been tough, but even you can't pull that off."

"I'll manage," she said flatly. Then, pointing towards the window, a bit of amusement creeping into her tone, she informed him: "During the day I've been putting some of the food on the windowsill, to lure in some birds."

At least she didn't seem to be in low spirits; nevertheless, Tsukune found himself grimacing at the implication. "Don't tell me you…eat the ones you've caught?"

"And why not?" she contended. "They're a perfectly fine source of protein. Besides, how do you think I had to survive certain parts of that training you mentioned, out there on my own in the wilderness? I am completely capable of hunting for my own dinner."

Tsukune brought a hand to his face, bewildered exasperation building inside him. "This isn't hunting, Akuha, it's—I don't want a pile of dead bird remains next to our house!"

"It doesn't matter. I haven't been able to catch even one of those little suckers," she admitted with regret. "They're quicker than I gave them credit for."

"Why didn't you just ask Hayate for help?"

"Huh?"

"He brought you your water herbs, didn't he? Why didn't you ask him to bring you meals from the ship if you didn't want to eat my mom's perfectly safe home cooking?"

She sat upright then, placing her hands on her knees and rocking steadily back and forth. Despite such a lax pose, her words were serious. "What, and have him come here every day? He has other duties to attend to, you know. Hayate can't be hiking back and forth, day after day, and besides…" She paused, briefly, and then: "I don't want him to fuss too much over me. That's just what will happen if I trouble him for this. He has other things he needs to be focusing on; I can't interrupt that."

"Then how about asking one of your crew?"

"You kidding?" she scoffed. "Like I'd trust some grunt with such an important task. And come on, would you really want a strange Fairy Taler showing up at your home every day?"

"Too late for that," he quipped lightly; he could practically feel her eyes roll. "But, you're right, I guess. So…What now? You can't not eat."

The girl cleared her throat and jerked her head over toward the window, saying simply: "Birds."

"You know that's a non-starter…." He smiled weakly, feeling his muscles start to sag and ache with their own day's exertion.

"Well, then…It seems we're short on options," she stated. Not without truth, Tsukune knew. This girl was stubborn as a mule, once she had set her mind on something. There would be no success in trying to persuade her otherwise; she would not eat. He looked at her. She had flopped on her back again, sighing with weary exasperation, clearly wanting the intruder to leave her to rest and not give her any more trouble over this issue. Handling things alone…She's kind of like Ura. The realization came to him delicately, without alarm, and he smiled at the familial similarities. He wondered, moreover, what Moka would do in this case, how she would try to help her sister. She'd probably shove her breakfast down her throat until it was gone, he chuckled. I doubt I have the strength for that. In the end, nothing came to him. Nothing, that is, except for a faint sense of guilt: enemy though she was, Akuha was still Moka's flesh and blood, and his companion in her retrieval. And now, for his sake, his desire to spend time here at home, she was willing to endure a whole month of apparent starvation….A fact he would've found touching, if primary concentration had not been on possible solutions.

"It's my fault," he exhaled, relating to her those very thoughts. His eyes drifted over her, coming to rest once more on the marked arm. He shook his head in disbelief. Had she really tried to drink her own blood for sustenance? Such an action reeked of desperation. Besides, it didn't make any sense, how could—?

The thought went unfinished, for, feeling a sudden pounding rush surge through his body, Tsukune fell to his knees with a gasp, drawing in a sharp breath as surely as he would choke without it, his fingers splaying over his chest to feel the quickened beat within. His nerves were aflame, every pore's sensitivity to the lightest breath increased ten-fold, his skin searing hot, as if about to melt off the bone. Yet this was nothing before the heat of his blood, roaring like wildfire through his veins, commanding his limbs to jerk and shutter unprompted by his will, until he was a burning, writhing inferno, prostrate on the floor, directing what little motor skills he could by clutching his stomach, grinding his teeth against the pain. For there was pain, seizing and wracking his form with crippling shocks from head to toe. The storm filled his ears as well, loud whines and hisses and shrieks and muffled screams joining in a cacophonous din; this latter, he distantly came to realize, his own agony shouted into the dusty rug held between the teeth.

There was another noise, too, a rustle, so far off it might have been beyond the horizon; but it came to him, and a moment later he was being moved once more, not by blood, but hands shifting him onto his back, stuffing some fabric into his mouth to soak up the screams like a sponge. "Hey, what is it!?" The voice broke through, barely, muted as if he were under water, and he felt a coolness light upon his brow, chasing for a time the choking fires from that spot.

"It's…the blood…Shinso….!" He heard himself rasp. He knew. Inflated and intense as it was, the basis of this sensation was familiar. "Moka…." Something was happening with her, wherever she was, to ignite her Shinso blood like never before, and, they sharing this between them, his as well.

Akuha froze. Moka's blood was causing this kind of a reaction? It couldn't be that connection he had spoken of, could it? What was happening to her!? Gyokuro had assured her safety, but—wait….No, was that it? Had Gyokuro moved on to the next stage already, without her? But that would mean...Her hand remained upon the boy's head as her mind raced. He was burning up, consumed by a fever far beyond what humans could endure. Presumably, Moka was in a similar state, though a vampire would be much better equipped for such turmoil; whatever her sister's condition, if it continued for too much longer, Tsukune would be incinerated from within by this demonic youki. She felt her palms moisten, joining the perspiration on the boy's head. Her eyes darted back and forth, scanning in the night for anything she could use to make it stop. She cursed; she had almost forgotten about the Shinso blood her sister had gifted him; didn't the girl know how dangerous such a substance would be to a human body? Her worries were violently halted as a stray elbow drove the wind out of her stomach. She winced, doubting the convulsing boy had even been aware of it.

The attack continued, thankfully, for only a few moments more, before showing signs of gradually subsiding. The pain weakened, still present but dulling, allowing Tsukune to pry open his heavy lids and bring some of his bodily movements back to rein. But he was not clear of the danger yet. The storm had certainly done its work, leaving him drenched in sweat, the back of his neck soaking Akuha's borrowed shorts; his chest—his lungs his own again—heaving with grateful, but labored breaths. The fever had calmed, but the blood beneath the flesh still boiled dangerously warm, like a pot recently removed from a stove, but still steaming with its contents. But none of this was the main catcher of Akuha's eye: a wave of both excitement and horror washed over her, for there, running up the inside of his arm, from that holy lock he always kept around his wrist straight up his neck and now branded into his cheek, were the markings. Black thorns – such was how they first appeared to her. Twisted, jagged, broken; more than that, however, constituted their difference from the last time. The skin beneath the thorns had turned grimly dark, grey and shadowed like stone; slicing through his shirt, she could see it also had spread over half of his chest, and the skin—the skin was rough, harder to the touch.

The markings, at least, she had seen before, prior to the Floating Gardens, and together with the lock, had had a strong suspicion as to their meaning. Now, with this dark streak of skin, there could be no doubt. Ever since she had discovered Tsukune possessed her sister's blood, she had wondered what the end result might be. There were really only two options: outright death, or…I figured it had to be this, but still, actually seeing it with my own eyes…! I thought there might be other possibilities I'd never heard of, but...It was inescapable. The skin was ghoulish. And, thanks to the raging blood, spreading.

Perhaps Tsukune had been too numbed to notice by this point, for he mumbled: "It's…alright. It's over now."

"Not so fast," she said hurriedly, still examining him. She glanced back at his face. He had to know about this condition already, right? Only one way to find out. "Tsukune, that seal on your wrist is to stop you from going ghoul, isn't it?"

At that, he looked wearily alarmed. "What? Did something happen to the holy lock?"

She shook her head. "Not yet. But it's already begun, and if we don't do something, I don't think it will hold. Your youki is already overwhelming you. And if that happens"—here she paused, gravely—"I won't be able to hold back."

By now, Tsukune had noticed the markings and the mutated skin, and scanned his arm with horror. "D-damn," he rasped. "No, I won't let it! Not here, of all places! I have better control of it than this. I have to think of something."

"It's not that simple. You can't just will it back down, especially with what you've just been through." She was surprised at her tone—simmering with a touch of urgency—but had little time for it. The youki was threatening to transform Tsukune. But what to do? Even if there was no simple solution….If only it could be extracted somehow, then maybe—Ah. Of course. It was simple. Not that he would be too pleased with the idea, but there was no other choice she could see. No time to ask for permission, even if she had cared to get it. Without a word, she moved, sweeping the hair from her face, and before Tsukune knew what was happening, she had helped him to his feet and guided him over to the bed, laying him out on his back, and promptly straddling his lap. A warm caress of breath ghosted his neck, and the two pinpricks of her bite sank into the flesh.

In the throes of his previous agony, the concern had not registered with him, but now, clear-headed again, he prayed no one could hear the startled cry that flew from his lips. Not since his first night in captivity had he felt the sting of Akuha's teeth, but there was little discomfort. Indeed, after what had just transpired, this felt nothing short of a pleasant reprieve: her weight against him as she lay draped over his body, her hair like a tickling brush, her lips sealed against his damp skin, suckling diligently and with growing vigor to drain the venomous youki, so toxic to a human, but a flavorful treat for her. In short order, his fever began evaporating, his body cooling to safe levels once more, replaced, though, with a new kind of heat. One of her hands found his firm shoulder, clutching it as she fed, and a heady rush washed over his senses. Life came flowing back into him as the poison left and, still hazy, knots of light drifted and strayed behind his eyelids. His senses narrowed their focus to the woman sitting astride him, now with evident hunger taking more perhaps than necessary for his recovery; but it did not matter, for the pleasure was only building, tingling the back of his neck and his belly, winding the tight coil that had formed somewhere and coaxing moans from his parched throat. The girl made some noise of enjoyment, muffled, in response; what it was exactly, he couldn't tell. Two hardened buds poked his bare chest, separated only by a thin covering, and her weight on him grew, pressing down. The pressure was immense, soon almost discomforting; he had become sensitive to every ounce of her lissom body on his lap, her feather-soft kiss upon his neck, the scent of sweet vanilla filling the air, the sound of excited breathing mingled with the soft gulps of her delicate throat, the fierce pulsing of his blood as it flowed like a stream from his veins, amplified in his skull to a roaring gush that soon deafened all sound and sight itself. The lights flashed, and scattered, dancing stars frantic upon the swollen sea of black, and the world turned upside down.

Then, suddenly, it was over. Once more, Tsukune returned to himself, like a spirit drifting back through the ether to its recumbent mortal frame. The scope of his awareness expanded, the darkness and pulsing ebbing like waves to reveal once more the moonlit room of the present. His body was wholly his own again, though quickly overcome by renewed fatigue. Akuha sat by him; he could not see her face with his tired eyes, but she had scooted off her perch, and was now motionless, staring, it seemed like, straight at him. He could not muster the strength of throat to speak. The amount of blood she had taken had not been dangerously excessive, he could tell that much. The surge and the agony of before had completely passed, and he felt stable, if somewhat drained, like a fruit sucked dry of juice. Beads of sweat still decorated him like Christmas lights, glittering in the moon as his chest calmly rose and fell.

On his neck lingered the dull ache of the teeth marks. He marveled at how intense his reaction to the vampire's feeding had been: indeed, it was as if excitement had burst from him at every pore, some of which now clung warmly to his thigh. At this sudden realization, Tsukune shot up—as fast as he could—to a sitting position, hurriedly covering his shame and turning towards the window, the hanging moon an easier sight to face than Akuha. Despite this, he did not forget what had just occurred, and what she had done. "T-thank you," he eventually choked out, "for saving me, I mean."

Her voice came softly, with a detectable scratch in it. "S-sure, think nothing of it. Moka would probably be sad if you croaked because of what she did, giving you her blood and everything." She chuckled then, and, to his embarrassment, swiped a finger across the sticky seat of his pants. "Looks like you enjoy being saved a great deal. We'll have to do it more often. Perhaps continue what we began the other day."

Something settled upon his open hand at that moment, soft and wet and enveloping; in his addled state it took him a second to recognize it. Whether it was accidental or not, obviously he wasn't the only one who had experienced some perverse thrill from the feeding, as her light moan caressed his ears. All other things aside, however, he was purely spent, and in little spirits for that with anybody, even if it had been Moka. With his retracted hand was withdrawn a frustrated hiss from the girl. No one spoke for a moment, but then he asked: "What was that just now?"

Her smirk faded into displeasure at the reminder. If Gyokuro had already begun using Moka for their intended purpose…But then, this was nothing he needed to know. "What are you talking about?" was all she said.

"Don't play dumb with me, Akuha, and I won't with you: I know that was the blood Moka gave me, which must mean something happened to her to make our connection flare up as powerfully as that. What I meant was, what's happened to her? Gyokuro promised she would be safe—you were sure it was the truth, you said. That she wouldn't 'dare break her promise,' remember? Was that a lie?"

"No, it wasn't."

"Then what?"

"…Trust me, whatever might be happening now, Moka will be safe. Even if her blood was triggered the same way, she's a vampire, and a Shuzen, at that. She's built strong—stronger than you, for sure. There's no danger."

"So, you do know what's going on, don't you?" But alas, try as he might, he could not force any new information from her; no more Fairy Tale secrets would she casually discuss, only to be demeaningly reprimanded later. All he could pry was her vehement insistence that no severe or lasting harm would come to the girl.

"Do you really believe for a second I'd allow her to die?" she said sharply at the suggestion. "I'm telling you, drop it. It's not for you to know. At the very least, you should have no problem trusting me when it comes to Moka's safety."

She had a point, he admitted. Even so…the idea of his pain also tormenting Moka was not a pleasant one. Time could not pass quickly enough, especially now, until Gyokuro delivered the girl back into his arms. Curse that woman for holding her hostage like this! Forcing him to play this ridiculous waiting game, helpless to act until she permitted. Leaving him with nothing to do but vent to his one companion in this, then lie back on the bed, exhausted from whatever Fairy Tale was allowing Moka to undergo, eyes signaling the onset of sleep and the distant drifting of consciousness….

But wait! There was still a matter which had gone unresolved amidst the chaos of his fever. Never mind the fact that this wasn't the room to sleep in, what were they going to do about Akuha's dietary complications? He couldn't just let her starve. They had to feed her somehow—

Feed...There was silence between them, then, nothing but the contented whir of the ceiling fan above. His eyes were wandering, as if suddenly mulling over some proposed notion. A notion that provided him with surprisingly less hesitation than its nature would suggest. "Akuha," he began, unwilling to move a muscle, "tell me something: can you guys live off blood? Vampires, I mean."

A soft rap between the eyes from her knuckles answered him. She tossed her head, flicking a stray white strand from her nose. "Duh. Vampires, remember? Yes, and werewolves are fond of the moon, and sirens have a hell of a voice."

He chuckled. "Sorry, dumb question. Guess my brain's a bit out of it."

"Why do you ask, anyway?"

"Well…I was just thinking, about the problem we were discussing earlier…."

So intense had been this whole episode, so absorbed in Tsukune's out of control youki had Akuha become, she actually had to take a moment to remember what he was referring to. When it hit her, she immediately dismissed the implication. There was no way he was offering such a thing.

He was. Sitting up once more with a hefty groan, he met Akuha's bright stare, confusion swirling in her eyes. A speck of moonlight caught the glisten of her moist lips, pressed together in patience, and drawing the boy's nervous glance. He was suddenly very aware of their proximity to one another, their solitude, and how intimate the road to his recovery had just been. Secrets or not, this girl had saved his life, the life of her detested enemy: how could he not give this much of himself in thanks? "If you want"—he had to swallow to clear the rasp in his throat, before repeating himself—"If you want, you could…I mean, I could, you know…let you use me—my blood, when you get hu—hungry."

"Eh?"

"I don't know if it'll be enough, I mean, you probably can't take too much at a time safely—but still….You've already used me as a pillow, after all, why not as dinner, too?" An awkward laugh.

"You really want me to take—wait, pillow?"

"What? Oh, didn't I mention? Yeah, at the park the other night, you kind of slipped onto my lap in your sleep. I didn't have the heart to move you, so you just stayed there till I got up in the morning."

Resting on her hands, her legs tucked to the side, Akuha found herself absent reply at this little tidbit, and, oddly, somewhat disarmed. Her brows lifted. After a moment to let it sink in and to gather herself, she retorted: "No wonder my hair felt dirty the next day."

What compelled Tsukune's next action, he was not sure. He could, at a guess, attribute it to fatigue, a careless action brought about by a mental haze. Whatever it was, he was powerless to stop—almost even register—his hand shooting out and fondly ruffling Akuha's hair, as he would a reclusive cat venturing from its hiding place, or as he often did Kyou-chan.

Her reaction was equally indignant as both other recipients. She swatted him aside, flailing both arms as if she were defending against pestering bugs. "Whoa, hey, watch the hand! Who do you think you are, petting a Shuzen? Are you nuts? Do I look like your pet?"

Laughing, he apologized, though perhaps not sincerely enough for Akuha's liking, and watched her smooth out her dark locks, invisible in the night if not for the pale illumination seeping through the window. An itch bothered his chest; reaching to scratch it, he was reminded of his ruined shirt crumpled nearby, torn in Akuha's attempt to save him from the attack. Gathering it, he rose from the bed and made for the door, eager to sink into sleep. "Thank you, Akuha, again," he said at the door. Then, with a wry smile, mostly to himself: "So much for not sneaking into each other's rooms at night. I guess I shouldn't have told them nothing was going to happen." Then, bidding her goodnight, he left.

To be continued...

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A/N: Sorry for cutting it off a bit abruptly. As I said in a previous update, I split up what I had written so far in order to hasten the next posting, rather than delay it till who knows when while I finished off one extremely long chapter. And it was here, within that chapter, that proved the best place I could find to make the split. It should flow smoother once the next chapter is posted, so stay tuned, reviews welcome, and thanks for reading.