I bumped the rating up to 'M' because there are a number of expletives and mild mention of suicidal ideation in this chapter. There'll be some smut in coming chapters so I figured I'd go ahead and do the responsible thing. Better to be overly cautious than not at all.

Oh, and I do not own Shiki.

Kuro bounded along the Italian countryside. The late afternoon sun dappled the Florentine hills in shades of rose and gold, and Toshio could do nothing but grin at the breathtaking view. Italy exuded warmth. Its people, its climate, its gentle slopes, the heady feeling he got from drinking its wine, and even the color of its flora and fauna seemed to the doctor to be crafted with a carefree lightness that was downright intoxicating. He'd always thought of Japan as colder, greener perhaps, but more isolated and sterile. He definitely preferred Japan, but decided that Italy would be at the top of his list if he ever decided to leave his homeland. Toshio had tracked Seishin to a small town west of Florence. The novel had provided all the necessary information in an author's biography. Indeed, it was too easy, and too unlike his childhood friend to be so unguarded about his personal information. It wouldn't be hard to find Seishin amongst a mere 16,000 townspeople. How many grey-haired Japanese men could there be in this corner of the world? But not knowing precisely what to do after arriving, he'd rented a flat in the old town and planned out how he'd finally make his approach. Toshio didn't know where Seishin lived exactly, but the Italian villagers were just as nosy as their Japanese counterparts, and he reckoned that he could wrangle that information with little effort. A few rounds of drinks here, a charming smile or two there, and the Italians would be all too happy to chatter away with a handsome foreign doctor. Whatever his plans, however, he knew they'd have to be executed in daylight. With the little vampire minx asleep he would have Seishin all to himself. Maybe he could talk the priest into returning to Tokyo with him without said minx in tow.

The early evenings he'd spend walking Kuro and rehearsing his lines for their upcoming encounter. Well, actually he spent them running behind Kuro. He had every intention of leaving the mutt in Japan, but couldn't bring himself to follow through with that plan. So instead of pawning him off on one of his hospital colleagues, he'd obtained a pet passport and brought him along. After all, the dog had been his sole companion for the last five years. Hell, he even had extensive conversations with it. Lately, his conversations with Kuro consisted of a great deal of cursing and panting as he tried to keep pace. Tokyo had been crowded. The retriever reveled in his new-found freedom, and honestly, the doctor couldn't really blame him. So he ran after the dog, making a mental note to quit smoking….again.

Kuro finally came into view after Toshio crested what seemed to him to be an unnecessarily steep hill. The doctor stopped in mid-sprint upon catching sight of the dog. He nearly tripped over himself in shock. Life is seriously fucked up. He'd come to that realization when he staked his own wife after torturing her for hours. What he'd been largely unaware of at that time was that this fucked-up-ness sometimes conformed to clichéd conventions of pulpy romance novels. But this would become all too clear, because his idiot dog was now being petted by one Seishin Muroi. Leave it to Kuro to run headlong into the path of a werewolf. Goddamnit. When we get home, it's off to the shelter with you. Toshio found himself utterly unprepared despite playing the encounter over and over again in his mind's eye. Of course it would have to happen like this. Fuck!

Even from a distance Seishin looked….different. He'd traded his temple robes for slacks and a sweater, but they were still black, and still striking against the priest's pale skin and hair. He looked healthier too, not nearly as brittle and skinny. He was smiling softly as he ran his long fingers through the dog's coat. To an outsider, the priest might have looked content—an émigré and his dog, out for a leisurely stroll in the country. But Toshio was sure he could see sadness reflected in Seishin's smile even at a distance. He bit back a sudden urge to kiss it away. Woah. Where did that come from? The doctor shook his head as if to dispel a particularly vivid dream. Travelling down that road with Seishin had always led to trouble. Then why are you here?

"He's my friend." In lieu of his usual conversation partner, he whispered to himself. The dog never responded anyway, he reasoned, so conversing with himself ought to be as effective.

And that's the only reason you're here?

"I was a horrible friend."

So was he. He chose a murderer over you.

"I pushed him too far."

Yes, and instead of confronting you he just ran away.

"He must have had a reason. He wouldn't just run away."

Oh? Then why didn't he explain himself to his closest friend?

"I would have tried to stop him."

Liar. You would have let him go.

"I won't this time."

Why not?

"He's my friend."

Your friend? Then why are looking at him like that?

"Like what?"

He's quite sexy, isn't he? Remember how you pretended with Kyouko? You fantasized about ripping Seishin's robes off his body, about defiling him in a church of all places. The fantasy wasn't enough. Isn't that why you acted upon it? I bet he's more practiced now. I wonder what his fangs would feel like as they scraped along your -

"Shut up. No one asked you." Toshio's mind flickered briefly to their drunken tryst all those years ago. To be honest, only Toshio had been drunk. Seishin slit his wrist only a few months afterwards, and Toshio knew even then that part of the priest's despair had come from their night together.

It's too late for remorse now, isn't it? His pretend interlocutor mocked him.

He'd been watching from a short distance, but he would have to make his presence known sooner or later, so he walked towards the other man warily. He was nervous; his heart was beating a stammering tattoo in his chest and his hands were slick with sweat. The words that tumbled out of his mouth, however, gave no indication of his frame of mind.

"He doesn't usually like people. But I suppose werewolves aren't really people."

The jinrou spun around. He was clearly expecting an attack, and before Toshio could process what was happening, he found himself with his back flat on the ground and a vice-like hand around his neck. A pair of ruby eyes glowered at him dangerously through dark-rimmed glasses. Kuro licked the side of Toshio's face and barked happily. Useless mutt.

"I should have known you'd show up sooner or later. What are you doing here, Toshio?" The jinrou was hard, cold. Fingers squeezed slightly around the doctor's neck, no doubt Seishin demonstrating that he could break Toshio with minimal effort. Clearly, being a werewolf had its advantages.

"I got your package. I came all this way to thank you and this is how you greet me?" Toshio grinned stupidly despite his current situation. Surely Seishin wouldn't choke him if he maintained his 'affable idiot' persona. It had saved him from Seishin's anger in the past, after all.

"What package?" His voice had grown raspy over the last six years. Toshio's conscience (if that was indeed what he'd just been conversing with) had been right. The man was sexy. That he'd been doomed to priesthood had always seemed a waste to the doctor. Well, he was no priest now it seemed. Even his former passivity seemed to have been replaced with something sharper, something aggressive. Whatever Toshio had hoped to find, the man crouching over him threateningly was not it. Seishin didn't just look different. He bore no resemblance to the man he used to be. Toshio could not determine whether or not this was a good or a bad thing on the whole, but it was enough to speed his pulse slightly.

"Your book. The dedication. If I remember correctly, it said something to the effect of 'To my only friend: Your absence has compelled me to immortalize you in my stories….blah, blah, blah….." He trailed off, offering his aggressor another winning smile and a roguish wink.

"I know what I wrote." Seishin pinched the bridge of his nose with his free hand and released Toshio's throat with a resigned huff. He shifted back, allowing the doctor to sit up. There was no point in adopting a menacing affect. After all, Toshio was a man who smiled when being threatened. I could have snapped him in half. What an idiot. "That dedication was not an invitation." Toshio rubbed his neck gingerly, knowing that he'd bruise where Seishin's fingers had found purchase in his flesh. He cleared his throat and pulled a cigarette from the package in his pocket.

"Are you sure?" he asked while lighting it. He inhaled gratefully while Seishin settled himself more comfortably on the grass. Kuro plopped down next to him, his large retriever eyes locked on the jinrou in what Toshio could only assume was a sick sort of adoration.

The werewolf hunched his shoulders ever so slightly, and in this gesture Toshio found something reminiscent of his old friend. "I write fiction. Why would the dedication of my book be any less fictitious?"

"Because that book was not fiction. That book was about Sotoba."

Seishin said nothing. Toshio assumed that he'd won this particular battle of wills. The two remained still for some time, watching the sun slip over the hills. Such silences between them had always been comfortable. That, at least, had not changed. Evening fell upon them before Seishin spoke again.

"Why are you here?" He repeated the inquiry, but this time his voice was softer, gentler. He trained his gaze at the tendrils of pink still lingering near the horizon, but Toshio caught him darting his eyes towards the doctor.

"I wanted to see you. I needed to apologize. You were right all those years ago."

"About?" The jinrou was now absentmindedly picking lint off his sweater while Kuro attempted to fit into in his lap. He still avoided looking at Toshio directly, preferring to steal periodic glances through the periphery of his vision.

"I was too hasty. I should have moved the humans somewhere else. Maybe then, you wouldn't have felt compelled to sacrifice yourself."

"Is that what you think I did?"

"Yes, you went to Kanemasa to negotiate. You tried to save us all—humans and Shiki."

Seishin barked a hollow, sarcastic laugh, instantly shifting his demeanor. He seemed every inch the werewolf now. This sudden change in Seishin's affect caused the doctor to feel small and insignificant. When had Seishin's laughter become a slight? "That's always been your problem. You only see what you want to see. I didn't martyr myself for the village. Why would I do that? Sotoba was my prison. I only stayed there out of a misplaced sense of obligation. I'm happy that there's nothing there to oblige me any longer."

Toshio was staggered. He'd never considered that Seishin had acted out of anything less than an altruistic impulse to save everyone around him. "I don't believe you."

"You don't have to."

The doctor changed strategies. This was not going at all according to plan. He knew he should leave—that by remaining on this hillside and continuing this conversation he would only be hurt. He'd be exposed to a host of things that he had not the heart to hear. The Seishin that he knew, that he missed, seemed irretrievably lost and based on the werewolf's words, Toshio was not sure that that man ever existed at all. But having come so far, having longed so desperately to hear his friend's voice once more, he stayed put. Being able to talk with Seishin was better than the alternative, no matter what words the priest used to cut him. But Toshio didn't have to capitulate. Oh no. Dr. Ozaki was a fighter. "So now you have your freedom. Then tell me, why are you so fucking miserable? And before you try to contradict me, do consider the evidence. Look at you. You're roaming a foreign country in full brood, dressed in all black, with nothing but your little notepad for company. Maybe this is how all you tragically misunderstood writers live, but you look pretty pathetic to me. Is this what you wanted? Does this…" he gestured to the scenery around them "…make you happy?"

"Well, it is rather beautiful." Toshio came up short, but then, inexplicably, he began laughing. Seishin joined in. The physician had to admit it was a pretty stupid question, but he'd never been more thankful for his occasional propensity for idiocy than he was at the moment. He'd not heard that laugh in six years, and even before then, he'd heard it very rarely. "I do my research here. I live in Japan most of the time. I'm not so tragically misunderstood that I'd leave my homeland." Toshio tore his gaze away from the hint of a smile still playing across the jinrou's lips.

"Your author biography said you live in Signa."

"My biography was written for Signor Moretti."

"So I got lucky when I found you here?"

"If you want to call it that."

"Where in Japan?"

"Somewhere remote." Seishin would not volunteer any more information about his current life, Toshio was sure, so he did not press this line of questioning any further.

"Why did you do it?" The seriousness crept back into the doctor's voice. His companion did not have to ask what 'it' meant. If Toshio couldn't reclaim their friendship, then he'd at least get some answers.

"I wanted to die. I didn't expect I'd live, and expected much less that I'd become almost invincible." Seishin lowered his head, his dark-rimmed glasses obscuring his eyes, but Toshio felt a small thrill of victory. It seemed that his Seishin—his sensitive, contemplative Seishin—was not lost. Not completely, anyway. It didn't occur to him how truly sad it was that he should find his old friend in such despondent words.

"You're a moron. You didn't consider the possibility that you'd turn into a vampire? I don't believe that."

"Oh, I considered it. I also considered how I'd trap myself in the sunlight if that should happen, or that I'd come to you so that you could kill me."

"I wouldn't have done it."

"Don't lie. There's no need anymore."

Toshio took a deep breath. He felt that he would not get another chance to speak so freely. "I would have regretted it for the rest of my life." He crooked a finger under the other man's chin and looked into his eyes. They were now the striking yellow-green that Toshio remembered, but still they seemed unfamiliar. "And it would not have been the only thing I regretted."

Those green eyes widened momentarily. Seishin seemed to be teetering on the edge of responding but then he only shook his head and pulled out of Toshio's reach. He got up, dislodging a disgruntled Kuro, and dusted himself off. He then turned his back on the bewildered doctor. "I didn't send you any package. I'm sorry if the dedication gave you the wrong idea. I'll always want your happiness Toshio, but that doesn't mean I want to see you. You've made your apology, unnecessary as it was. Go home."

Even Kuro seemed to sense the finality of the werewolf's words. The dog stayed put at his master's side and whined after the jinrou. Toshio wanted to march stubbornly after Seishin, to grab his arm and spin him around. He wanted to kiss him so passionately that they ended up naked and spent on the hillside underneath the stars. He wanted to wake up to the gentle, unassuming Seishin of long ago. But for once in his life, Dr. Toshio Ozaki did not act upon impulse. He remained put and stared at his friend's retreating form.

His conscience mocked him again. That's the third time you let him walk away.

Had he been paying closer attention to his surroundings, he would have noticed the little girl with pale skin and long hair watching him from amongst the trees. He would not have seen the moonlight reflected by her dark, mournful eyes, but he would have recognized the heartache reflected in the downward curve of her lips, even at some distance.