Chapter Five

Grease For The Bitter

-Her XV Year-

quintus decimus

Bang!

The blatant echo of the gunshot rang past my agitated ears and through Zero's slightly opened door, no doubt startling the rest of the Day Class boys from their slumber. I paid no heed to the noise, or the possible threat of being discovered in a boy's dorm room, arm-wrestling for a gun under the sheen cover of darkness. This slow morning I had assumed to finally give my lavender-eyed friend his very late, very painstakingly finished St. Xocolatl's Day present - which I skipped class to complete. To be honest, it had been the only excuse I could come up with to visit Zero immediately.

But as I stood in front of him, eyes wide in disbelief, all my mind could process was the past image of the Bloody Rose tenderly kissing the side of Zero's head . . . and the long forgotten reasons why I hated guns. With a flick of my wrist, the Bloody Rose flung out of his grip and clattered loudly against the wooden floor, finding refuge from my ire in the corner of the room. Zero met my furious glare calmly as if he had expected me to come unannounced, and without the chairman's consent. My adoptive father had been lying about welcoming visitors, sending me away just this morning.

It's almost funny how my partner knows me so well, yet . . .

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" I demanded, shoving my doubts aside for the moment. I could second guess our friendship later in a more appropriate time. When Zero stayed silent - patronizingly so, I slammed my palm on his bedside table, my anger wanting to be unleashed somehow. "Don't tell me you've gone deaf! Answer me, damn it!"

"Why are you so mad?" He asked quietly.

"The Bloody Rose kills vampires! And you're . . . you're a . . ." I trailed off, unable to continue out loud for fear of offending the suicidal sadist. Nevertheless, my silence changed nothing; Zero was one of them now.

Before I could reorganize my thoughts, said sadist suddenly rose to his full height, becoming a looming tower of intimidation. His speed and abrupt closeness surprised me, and I was reminded of last night - his hungry rouge gaze, his bloodied fangs, his unbidden desire for my blood. . . . I swallowed. Taking an instinctive step back, I knew very quickly how much of a mistake that was. His beautiful yet empty eyes had caught my stagger and hardened, a self-depreciating sneer appearing on his lips.

He took one step forward, then another, until he had me trapped against the wall. I didn't even realize my buried need for distance and shuddered when his breath clouded over the shell of my ear. "You're afraid of me. . . . Good."

"I'm not," I argued, shaking my head adamantly in the given, tight space. "I'm not afraid-"

"Look what happens when you get close to me." Zero grabbed my wrist, ripping away the soiled bandages in one impressive swipe. His thumb pressed harshly against my racing pulse. "So long as blood pumps through these veins . . . I'm a constant danger to you."

"No, just - no! Don't use me as an excuse to justify whatever it was you had planned! This isn't about me or my safety!" When he opened his mouth to make his argument, I cried out indignantly, "I wasn't the one holding a gun to his head a few minutes ago!"

"You know what I am!"

At his sudden yell, a sneaky whimper escaped my throat. A flicker of regret passed his paling face, but it came and went far too fast for me to fully discern. Zero, don't do this . . . My knees trembled as he edged away to retrieve his fallen weapon, selfishly taking the warmth with him.

Zero glanced back and shrugged his aged duffle bag onto his shoulder. "So keep your guard up."

It felt several degrees colder when I stood alone in his darkened room, a sliver of light from the ajar door being my only means of seeing. My stunned gaze traveled from the empty closet to the perfectly made bed, pausing briefly to study the bare desk table. Excluding the bullet-sized hole in the ceiling, the entire dorm room looked barren of personal touch, as if a grumpy student named Zero Kiryuu had never claimed this private chamber as his own - never slept in that bed or spilled salted noodles over there by the floor lamp.

Zero was already gone way before he had walked through the door. The unyielding strictness of his solitude weighed on my mind, the realization of it like a painful stab to the heart. He had been by his lonesome despite my being there. . . . All this time . . .

I couldn't supress a flinch when I heard the first whispers of groggy boys down the hallway, and warily discarded the impulsive idea to dash after the silverhead, consequences be damned. With a watery scowl, I placed the canvas of painted flowers on his desk and marched over to the locked window. I prided myself to be an efficient tree climber, practically shimmering past the grabby branches before landing safely on the ground. My stitched arm burned at the excessive effort to stay out of sight, but I couldn't be bothered with the pain, especially not after reaching the main pathway on a mad dash.

Spotting an inconspicuous figure ahead, I sprinted around the thorned shrubbery and jumped onto the concrete with a thunderous smack. Apollo glowed bewitchingly under the moonlight as I brandished it into view, placing the magnificent weapon between me and Zero; an unconscious frown made its way to my face. Strangely, the hunter bow felt unbalanced, reluctant - even a bit wrong in my grasp. I struggled to wield it at my breathless state, choosing to ignore the tiny discomfort it brought.

"Enough, Kiyoe." Camouflaged shame slithered past his apathy. "I can't stay."

I managed to huff out, "Too bad! I won't . . . let you leave, not until . . . you hear me out!"

Ever the vigilant hunter, he appraised the anti-vampire weapon on my left, unfortunately familiar with my style of fighting. I would like to think I could win a match against Zero Kiryuu, but as it stood, he held all the advantages of a vampire - superior agility, strength, continuous stamina. "To steadily point Apollo at me . . . you must be very mad." The odd look Zero shot me sent anxious chills up my spine.

"You know," he continued softly, "it's not a crime to kill a vampire - at least, not without reason-"

"Stop saying such gross implications! I'm not here to grant your death wish!" I asserted, clutching onto my anger since, most likely, it was all that fueled my drive to keep on fighting. Otherwise, I would've been stuck to the floor of his abandoned dorm room, sobbing pathetically at his leave.

He ignored me, stating smoothly, "You have that reason. I attacked you, after all-"

My desperate hold on Apollo loosened, and I didn't notice it fall from my grip, not when a fist rose up to punch his face. I only claimed the offending limb as my own when hot, piercing pain flashed up my arm. Agonized tears clouded my eyes and I bit my tongue to swallow down attractive curses, not caring when a gush of metallic liquid assaulted my taste buds. Zero reacted much better than I did to my abrupt attack - if you counted blinking and slightly gaping down at me any better.

"Acting so fearless, it's maddening!" I raged, short-winded but still pushing on. "I was here! I am here! Why didn't you ever say anything? Couldn't you see me? You must've felt alone, and confused, and - ugh!" My arms rose up in exasperation, flailing about restlessly. "I don't know, angry! And if kept restrained for too long, that anger will change into something dark and twisted, and I don't want you to do something you'll regret!

"I mean, did you even consider how the chairman would feel if you suddenly vanished, if you had . . ? Y-You can't just c-come up with a plan like that w-without . . !"

My throat closed up, my vision declining further as a wave of tears overcame me. Unable to look at my partner anymore, ashamed of my self-absorbed outburst, I crouched over to muffle a sob. I didn't have to guess that I was a shocking sight, playing the role of the crying damsel-in-distress flawlessly, but I didn't care. Everything ached - from the soles of my feet to the deep cavity within my chest . . . and my damn hand. I almost started to regret punching Zero, but I refused to feel timid for overreacting . . . a tad bit.

A cool palm rested against the back of my head, and I stiffened. It distracted me while the night breeze, amazingly callous, caressed my newest injury. Oh, I really shouldn't have punched Zero. Maybe a good kick between the legs would've sufficed-

"I see you."

. . . What?

He murmured, "It's annoying, how you always doubt that."

Cautious, I looked up. The nasty imprint I had left on his cheek was already fading back to its usual pasty color, but that didn't mean I hadn't hurt him. "You pulled the trigger," I whispered, my throat itchy.

Seeming to realize the source of my fury, he grimaced. "I'm a lost cause, so don't care about me so much."

I turned away and hoped that a curtain of my hair would be a passable veil to separate us. It wasn't. "Too late."

Zero breathed out a quiet sigh. Before pulling me to my feet, he picked up Apollo - or at least tried to. Sparks of bright blue electricity defensively lit to life at his touch. "He's displeased with my presence."

I didn't respond. Due to Apollo's brief rejection, I currently lacked the care and warmth I normally held towards the majestic bow. Without the anti-vampire weapon, I was somewhat vulnerable but free to feel partial about Zero's present situation; with it, conflicted. Zero was a vampire - never had he attempted to familiarize himself with Apollo before - and I didn't think it was necessary for him to do so now. He raised an eyebrow at my lack of response, but I didn't bother explaining and just stared back.

Without relinquishing his hold on my elbow, he tugged me behind him and grumbled, "Still so bothersome." Behind us, a raw screech pierced the night sky, followed by the stirring of the trees and a hurried flutter of tiny wings.

My personal mission to deter Zero's leaving was almost a palpable success - becoming more and more possible with each step that took us far from the academy's gates - though the notion of returning to the boys' dormitories was barely a great one. Zero himself realized this and stealthily led me to the chairman's residence, not that the chairman would mind our break in anyway. Our walk together was tense - bordering frigid, both of us contemplating on how horridly tonight had rolled out. I dumped what few belongings he owned next to the coffee table as he checked the bathroom for adequate bindings.

Once Zero returned to mend my swelling fist, I could've passed out from all the pain I'd been subduing with sheer force of will. Ha, I wish. . . . At his prodding fingers, I agonized over the fatigue I had recklessly placed on my body, reduced to a sniffling mess. A glass of tap water, nearly empty, and the chairman's supply of pain relievers stood together on the table ten minutes later, my Day Class blazer folded neatly next to them.

"I think it's sprained," was his oh so helpful observation. At the unpleasant face I made, he started to glare. "What do you want from me?" Zero questioned impatiently as he kneeled beside the sofa's edge, yielding his hold on my wrapped knuckles.

The answer should've been quite obvious. "Don't go," I pleaded rather numbly, my fury burnt out, spent. "I don't want you to go."

"And my next victim?" He asked roughly with a sneer. "I might kill someone by accident. Would you want me to stay then?"

Disregarding the careless jibe - also known as the bait I was supposed to bite so we could argue all night and never actually settle things, I raised a shaky hand to his cold cheek. I ignored the way he froze at my touch, or the way my heart tremored at the resignation of my dependent character; I wanted him to be here yet . . . was this obnoxious of me? If I wanted him to comprehend my way of thinking, maybe I should've tried to respect his first. . . .

"How am I any different from someone else?" I asked wearily. If it was possible, Zero tensed even more, becoming an immovable sculpture of living flesh and bone.

"They have dreams, aspirations, plans - perhaps family and friends who care for them like I do . . . and you don't want to kill me. So why would you kill that someone?" I pressed my wounded hand against his chest, finding it difficult to maintain eye contact. "Though, whatever beast lives within you - this bloodlust of yours, I cannot imagine the strength it takes to fight it. The nature of humans differ to that of vampires so . . . I suppose I can't ever understand your pain."

He frowned in reply, a little disturbed with what I said. "Has this really sunk in? You're talking weird again-" The rest of his words remained unspoken when I tightened my hold on his shirt, my blunt nails scraping his skin through the fabric.

"I see you," I said firmly as to leave no space for suspicion, lowering my gaze to my lap. I didn't think I could tell Zero half the things I planned to say if he reacted with even an ounce of disgust. "After these handful of years, I see you entirely for the first time and . . . you're still you. I won't doubt that anymore . . . but . . . while you try to push everyone away, I can't let you go. I can't find it inside of me to, and if that makes me selfish - fine! I'll be the one to stop you when you give in to your thirst! I'll stop you before there is a someone!"

Silence followed. Then - an unceremonious rustle of cloth informed me of movement, his shirt disappearing from my grasp. For a wild, panicked second, I assumed Zero had taken his final leave of the academy. Imagine the relief I felt . . . and the gratitude, and the demure joy, and the melting pot of cuddly, snug feelings too overwhelming to individually identify . . . when a thick shawl was draped over my shoulders. I wanted to cry again - this time in relief, but I wasn't keen on pulling off another water show; I needed to be stronger now.

"Zero?"

His throat giving out the meekest of grunts, he made his way across the sitting room and switched off the lights. The sudden darkness eagerly stole my sight, but through the obscurity night brought - on a particular spot where I presumed he stood, Zero's lavender eyes seemed to thrive in these conditions, blossoming to its height of splendor. My heart struggled to keep a proper rhythm, much to my surprise. Like a certain Kuran sibling, he had me enthralled just by his stare . . . and I felt confused when Zero looked away.

"It's late," he told me blankly, claiming the couch farthest from mine. "We can talk more tomorrow morning."

A little bewildered by his actions, I argued feebly, "But there's class-"

Zero deadpanned, "It's a Saturday."

"Oh."

I blinked in the shadows, unable to make out any of the furniture or of Zero's lying figure. Still, with him seemingly far from my reach, I felt uneasy letting my guard down. He hadn't announced his staying and rather avoided answering any of my heartfelt appeals. For all I knew, the silverhead was planning to leave the moment I succumbed to sleep - and I couldn't have that now, could I? Rising to my feet as quietly as possible, I tip-toed to the other side of the room with exaggerated cautiousness.

As if my efforts to evade trouble amused the Fates themselves, the straps of Zero's duffle bag were caught underneath my heel and - whoosh! I fell on my knees, hard, my left arm swiping the coffee table clear of a glass cup and an open bottle of pain relievers. Uh-oh . . . I suppressed a moan of horror at my clumsiness.

"What are you doing?"

I cringed at the irritation in Zero's voice. "Er . . . I'm cold?"

There was a creak of protest from the couch, then a deep sigh. "You've seeped away my energy, Kiyoe. I'm not in the mood to sneak out again." Without any need for my response, he realized I didn't believe him and threw his arm over his face with a bit more force than necessary. "Whatever. Do what you like."

Embarrassed now, I slid meticulously towards the small armchair that stood between my partner and the exit - thankfully without another incident. I shifted into a more comfortable position, my numbed right hand cradled over my stomach, and wrapped the shawl closer, inhaling the light musk of comforting lavender and mint. "Goodnight," I breathed out, not taking it personally when Zero didn't reply. I'd like to think he did later on, though I had tritely fallen asleep to receive it.

I woke up the next morning - or was it afternoon? - utterly detached to my surroundings. A cold compress had lain over my sore eyes, to reduce redness and puffiness - probably the chairman's doing since Zero couldn't care less about the beauty insecurities of a teenage girl; but I didn't require my distorted sight to sense the sofa in front of me was empty of company. Springing up in alarm, I regretted moving at all and let out a terrifying groan, collapsing back onto the armchair.

Aside from the mental screams my hand released, my heart could've leaped out of my throat when a mellow voice noted, "You sound scary in the morning."

Ripping the wet towel off my face, I quickly directed my blurry gaze to the upperclassman's curious expression. "Kaname . . ?" What was he doing here? And more importantly: "Where's Zero?"

"In a meeting," the dark-haired vampire answered dismissively.

Disorientated and half-awake, I couldn't be bothered with honorifics, and Kaname didn't seem to mind. In fact, he looked quite pleased at the drop of formalities and took that as an invitation to draw nearer. However, the warmth of his smile was replaced with a frown when he studied my disheveled appearance - from my bloodshot eyes to the dark, baggy circles that flourished beneath them. I grew self-conscious and tried to hide under the shawl, but the tips of his fingers halted my endeavor.

"You were crying all night," he stated as he leaned against the chair's arm, his thumb skimming over the swell of puffy skin. "What deserved so many of your tears?"

I shivered at his undivided attention and thought of the first thing that came to mind. "M-My hand is sprained. I-I think."

"Your hand," Kaname murmured, inspecting it with light concern. A flicker of agitated amusement danced across his facial features. "Of course. It's impressive your bones didn't shatter when you punched Kiryuu-kun."

Blank astonishment washed over me, rivalling my feelings of disbelief and mortification. "How did . . ?" I couldn't even finish my sentence when I followed his offhanded stare to the coffee table, the butt of an engraved rod gleaming underneath the sunlight - the rest cloaked in a silk cover. "Apollo. . . . Y-You were there . . ? But-! T-That was . . . private . . ." I trailed off pathetically.

"I had sensed a small disturbance, but I couldn't fully dispel my curiosity when I came upon the scene."

A kind look of sincerity reflected over his attractive face, those pair of intense, garnet eyes that I favored so much compelling me to forgive him. Kaname's effortless ability to sway my mind was unfair and . . . well, unsurprising. It was with great effort that I turned away, blushing fiercely, unsure of how to really feel in the morning after. What else can I say . . ? In response to my indecision, both of his large hands that had cupped over mine tightened.

"You needn't be shy. I always knew you were full of passion and heart," he assured in a casual manner, annoying me with his confidence as well as nurturing my doomed crush.

"You didn't have to tell me this," I pointed out, puzzled by his sudden gallantry. "Zero and I w-wouldn't have found out anyway."

The assurance in Kaname's soft chuckle did little to mask the withdrawn smolder in his gaze. Was he . . . upset? "Perhaps I wanted to be truthful with you."

He slowly unwrapped the clean bandages, revealing blotchy patches of blues and purples, and brought my blemished knuckles to his waiting lips. My fingers accidentally caressed his chin and flexed, my nerves alighting with pain and rigid anticipation. As I sat there, morbidly transfixed - not daring to protest for fear of making the slightest move, his cool breath chilled the sharp pains to a particular numbness. His feathery light kisses literally painted away the ugly marks.

When he glanced up from his task, attracted to the furious flow of blood in my hot cheeks, I was too distracted trying not to faint to notice the tiny specks of rouge cluttered within his guarded stare. "T-This is cheating. Y-You can't just a-ask for forgiveness a-and then do s-something like this! I c-can't even-!" With my thoughts deeply muddled in a lovesick sludge, I couldn't think up of words to express the chaos that was my mind.

"I don't like it when you're mad at me," the dark-haired vampire confessed quietly, somewhat resembling a beautiful, young child. The sight itself was very shocking.

"You're acting strange," I whispered, inwardly cringing at my lack of tact. "Do you disapprove . . . of what I did?"

Kaname looked at me with a sort of glum calm you expected from an incoming storm. Yes, he was definitely upset. "His compliance is short to nothing. What he truly owes you . . ." At the surprise openly etched on my face, he didn't bother to complete his spoken opinion and straightened, releasing my hands as he did.

And there it was again, the robbery of warmth and the icy pang of withdrawl. Focus, Kiyoe, I thought sternly.

Mirroring his movements, I nearly fell back to the armchair at the heavy wave of morning giddiness. I waited for my head to clear, realizing with slight mirth that all my clumsy bumps and bruises were gone. Even the nightmarish mask that clouded over my eyes had disappeared, as if my tears for Zero had never happened, existing only in memory. Just the stitchings remained, but compared to what Kaname had already done for me, I didn't mind adorning another small scar.

"Thank you."

"I'm acting strange, you say." He had his back to me, not quite hearing my gratitude.

When he finally returned from his inner musings - wherever it was that they took him, the subtle change between friendly vampire and apex predator was alarming. Kaname . . . what . . ? I struggled against the urge to wield Apollo when he sauntered forward, nervous with what his dark eyes conveyed. His determination however faltered halfway to me.

With great restraint it seemed, he settled on brushing aside my tangled hair from my cheek. "Watching your fire flare and burn up in defense for someone like him . . . other than . . ." Kaname spared me a languid glance, implying to know another secret I didn't. "I admit to having tasted the bitter flavor of envy."

Him . . . jealous of Zero? How the silverhead would scorn at that picture.

Despite my quickening heartbeat, I refrained from grinning or skipping about in joy. For him to say such weird things - enveloped in an aura of melancholy - wasn't an action to cheer about. He must've known this was utterly confusing for a girl in my position, considering he was well aware of my feelings for him. Yet what did he want from me? Did Kaname want something? Blood was the only practical human aspect that could be of any interest to a vampire, but Kaname was hardly Hanabusa Aidou.

"Dorm President!"

I flinched. Oh, the Fates indeed are cruel.

There on the entrance way stood a group of Night Class students, their clouded eyes glued to our close proximity. Yuuki Kuran was the first of the three to remove her gaze, a mask of cool indifference covering the curiosity on her regal features. Kaname asked, "The meeting with the chairman went smoothly, I trust?"

"Despite Kiryuu-san's involvement, the chairman agreed to their punishments. He accepts he has no official say within the Night Class, as discussed before." With pursed pink lips, Yuuki scanned my body for any injuries and forced out a wooden smile when she found none; she figured out what had occurred between us rather quickly. A part of me felt like I had broken the unspoken rule of not being intimate with someone else's boyfriend . . . which was ridiculous since they were siblings. . . .

"Then it's settled. A week's suspension," Kaname sighed. To my surprise, he didn't react to Yuuki's resigned tone, or when she decided to walk ahead without any farewells, a grim Ruka Souen looking after her disappearing figure.

Ignoring Hanabusa's glares that blamed me for Yuki's bad mood, I asked uncertainly, "What about Zero? What happened?"

"Only an old disagreement recently resolved." The dark-haired vampire gave me a kind look, a sort of apology for the way he acted moments before. "I can assume the chairman will require your presence in his office, Kiyoe. There's some things you should discuss."

Does that mean Zero's staying? In the Night Class!?

I managed a timid nod. "Okay." There wasn't much else I dared to say under the weakly concealed objections on Hanabusa's face. Ruka didn't treat me any better, but I actually preferred her daily givings of lofty, cold shoulders.

Kaname neared his aristocratic classmates as if to divide us into separate parties, adding in patiently, "About your concerns . . . I already knew how much it would sadden you if such a transfer were to occur. So . . . no more tears."

Don't worry so much, was what I translated, a little overwhelmed with his attentions. It would be a dream come true - a very conceited and extremely selfish dream - if he could be mine one day. My imagination took flight without my consent, only to crash and burn in the flames of reality. No . . . just no . . .

Before I realized it, I stood alone, looking down the empty hallway like a self-absorbed fool. My fingers blindly found the area where Zero had bitten me, though without looking, I knew the mark was gone. Gratitude for his kindness and suspicion for his intentions warred in my mind. Why . . . Kaname . . ?

That was how I entered my adoptive father's office, deep in thought and blind to the animated spirit in the air. My distant eyes swept past the weeping chairman, the partially hidden bundle of a discarded Night Class uniform, and the strange chain of metal lying on top of his desk - eerily similar to the antique bracelet that Yuuki Kuran wore. They locked onto Zero's which were filled with agitation and flashes of tedium . . . and now, catching sight of me, slight concern.

"Kiyoe?"

At the sound of his voice, I smiled faintly. No more secrets.

Over the chairman's vocal sorrows of having raised such pessimistic children, I began uncertainly, "There's something that needs to be said before we - er, no, I mean . . ." I cleared my throat as I regathered my thoughts, ignoring Zero's sigh. "About my a-accident three years ago . . . I think it's time you know what really happened."

-Her IX Year-

nonus

A willowy figure, partially obscured by mist and shadow, stood alone among the remains of a once prosperous tribe. It was everywhere - splattered outside the walls of abandoned homes, callously spilt over the stained earth. Even if she looked towards the soft glow of the sunrise, seeking some sort of refuge from the sight of bloodshed, it would still find ways to haunt her. Its seductive touch . . . its smell. . . . Every breath was a battle of wills, the stench of blood awakening buried instincts the woman refused to hearken.

Not yet, not yet . . .

This morning massacre had not been the doing of vampires. That fact was painfully obvious as she scanned her bloodied surroundings for what seemed to be the hundredth time. What the corpses lacked in two clear puncture holes, they made up with missing limbs and deep lacerations to their torsos. She had arrived too late. Though somewhat amused with the savage nature of werewolves, the female pureblood was careful to avoid scattered entrails and severed heads, eager to escape their blank, dead eyes.

A manic giggle escaped her; then, a shriek of outrage when a bristling bullet pierced her shoulder. Blue electricity crackled within the wound, her skin refusing to knit back together because of its anti-vampire properties. What damned hunter - she sneered the word as if it was a horrible jest - would dare?

Unhurried footsteps could be heard from her earlier track. She whirled around, narrowly missing another attack and allowing her own power to writhe and twist beyond their restraints. The ground quaked in her anger, destroying almost everything in the vicinity and creating a monster of her invention. Quick, despite its body and gaping mouth being made of the sharpest rocks and the sturdiest of boulders, it rushed to her ambusher. Fresh blood filled the rotten air, mixing in with the smell of burnt flesh and decay.

Ever the graceful dancer, she would've been upset she had stumbled in the middle of her evasive twirl, startled, even doubtful. Instead, she eyed the contradiction that was her newest rival and laughed, and laughed and laughed. The cool edge of a gleaming scythe silently kissed the side of her neck, but the woman wasn't worried. In fact, she smiled brightly at him - at the elder who had no qualms in killing her where she stood. Perhaps she was just as insane as her husband fondly claimed her to be; love truly was a strange thing.

"The pureblood who kills other purebloods," she chuckled, wincing when the bullet shifted against her shattered collarbone. "From the Kuran Clan . . ."

For a being of eternal youth, he looked like death. She supposed it was appropriate since he was the bringer of death itself for many of their kind. His appealingly tender skin was a sickly pale, his dark hair fell long and lusterless over his shoulders - which were hunched as if he carried the immense weight of the world, and his eyes that glimmered like rubies were dull, lifeless. One gloved hand held the bloodthirsty scythe, the other carried a silver gun. They both emanated a pensive, solemn aura, matching his demeanor entirely.

"You've heard of me, lone maiden." He didn't sound shocked at his popularity. After all, this vampire was a living, breathing anomaly - a savior for most, a traitor to some. It made him all the more fascinating . . .

. . . and clueless.

The younger pureblood fought back a snicker and tilted her head, blinking at the glare of the sun as she studied him. Tantalizing trickles of blood seeped down his face from the head injury she caused. "Are you not going to kill me now?"

"Do you wish for death? You ceased to fight for your life." His voice was a hoarse melody, broken yet still beautiful.

A smirk appeared on her mouth. "So have you, it seems. Okaa-sama would be ashamed."

Kaname stiffened. "Who are you?"

Smiling courteously, she had no intention of answering such a boring question. "What pleasantries from one who devours his enemies whole." Her body tensed to lunge away from the cannibalistic hunter. "Okaa-sama was right. Your eyes are too honest."

As if freeing himself from a bad memory, he aimed for Mihoko's forehead.

Her archaic name lied temptingly at the tip of my tongue, nearly whispering past my lips as I awakened from another nightmare. I looked around my bedroom, expecting to see blood and feeling relieved after noticing none - just bare pink walls. Snuffles-san - worn and patched from all our years of companionship - was perched on my far side pillow. The teddy bear had been knocked over during my tousled sleep, and I quickly snatched it into my arms, using its curly fur to brush away my furrowed brows.

Today is the day. Cold, hard trepidation stabbed my queasy stomach. Weeks of planning had led to a lot of dazed stares and out-of-character behavior that even Kaname had to question. Still . . . I had to do this. I can do this, I asserted myself, trying to quell my lingering anxieties.

After I changed into a simple russet dress with olive green stockings, I hulled a large bag over my shoulder, only to stagger by it's heavy weight. I rechecked everything inside, not wanting to leave some sentimental trinkets behind, but failing to see the usefulness of cracked marbles, forgotten ice cream cups, and Kaname's old bookmarks. I finally left my bedroom with a more reasonable pack - emergency money, a map, and a few toys I just couldn't abandon in the dawn of a new adventure.

First order of business was to leave the Kuran mansion undetected. Considering all efforts were concentrated on keeping people out, it was fairly easy to sneak into the back of a pickup truck that belonged to a farmer two towns over - shockingly, I did do my share of research. While my mother lacked the culinary skill, she had grown fond of healthy eating and wanted everyone else to feel the same, hence the weekly delivery of organic fruits and vegetables. It also helped that the sun was high in the sky, somewhere in its two o'clock arch; almost everyone was asleep.

"-is the last batch," a voice said over the produce flap. After continuous weeks of sleepless days, I couldn't restrain the yawn that escaped my throat; insomnia was partly the reason why I was doing this in the first place.

A face peeked into my field of vision, a human man with freckled skin and long features. He took one glance at me and Snuffles-san hiding behind an empty crate and jumped back in surprise. Before he could alert the others, enticing tendrils of smog reached out and caressed his cheeks, seeping past his nostrils and into his body. A glaze seemed to coat over his eyes, his stare becoming unfocused, his muscles suddenly lax. As if forgetting my presence, he pulled the flap back, concealing me from view, and robotically returned to work.

I bit the inside of my cheek. Mother had strictly forbidden such manipulation over the weak-minded, and yet . . . No, no, it was an accident, or at least I tried to convince myself that. Feeling a little lonely, I hugged Snuffles-san closer for comfort. A few minutes passed until finally, I heard the retired engine rumble and groan to life. The dreary scenery was my main source of amusement as the Kuran mansion shrunk into a tiny dot in the very distant horizon. My first official outing alone . . . I almost started hyperventilating.

My anxieties only strengthened when I crept out of the pickup truck, slowly taking in the hectic courtyard that was marked on my map. I instantly forgot my stiff spine, estatic just to stretch out my cramped muscles after an hour-long kneel. Human crowds jostled by, left and right, all in a dizzying blur of flashing colors and loud chatter. I was so used to the evening's tranquil silence - its darkness and its quiet beauty, that I never expected the sudden liveliness of day. From the brazen sounds to the heat and unrelenting light, I was blinded . . . and it hurt.

Rushing under the shade, I had to squint my watery eyes to catch a glimpse of the street signs. Of all the things I could have forgotten, it had to be the parasol I overlooked. I hurried past an excited group of tourists, catching a blurry sight of a human girl in pigtails before entering a souvenir store. There, I spent at least twenty minutes debating on which umbrella to buy, eventually choosing the one with a cartoonized, smiley-faced sun. I ignored the pointed glances that were thrown my way, aware that humans were naturally attracted to a vampire's allure.

The cashier questioned, cheeks slightly pink, "Aren't you a bit young to be off on your own?" My answer was a smile as I added a floppy, straw hat to my purchase. She blushed even more, too flustered to ask another inquiry.

It felt like my impossible plans were within the realm of possibility now that I was relieved from the afternoon heat. I felt upbeat for the first time today. So it made me wonder why the cosmos and all it's mystical beauty decided to award me a crying lady down the shopping avenue, of all things to be awarded with. "-do you mean inadequate description? She's a cute girl in cute clothes wearing cute purple ribbons in her hair!"

"Ma'am, please calm down. We need a more specific-"

She interrupted the local guard, aggravated, "I told you already, my daughter's an angel! Pure, adorable, cute as a button! Now do your job and find her!"

I immediately switched sidewalks, her shrilly voice irritating my sensitive ears. Aside from the earlier bumps in my adventure, I managed to enjoy a simple saunter through the town. It was quite distracting actually, my attention flickering between an antiquery, a florist shop, and a bakery. I ended up visiting each of them after long considerations on my part, and as the sun reached its five o'clock point, I was sitting on a public bench, a hot bun in one hand and a few carnations in the other.

The peace didn't last however. It was undeniable, like a blatant flare on my vampiric radar, three different presences in separate parts of town. At first, I was afraid they were Mother and Father, burning in righteous anger for my reckless stunt, but these auras were too weak to match those of my parents'. Interest peaked, I wiped my lips clean of crumbs and threw the napkins in the trash can. I walked closer to the Tower Bell, the town's most historic feature, with only my predatory senses to lead me.

Bang!

I froze solid and a minute later, tilted my head up to the forthcoming winds, literally tasting the ashes of a Level E vampire. The gunshot didn't sound as far away as I liked; hunters were here. With a determined scowl, I dashed forward. If Father was present, he'd remind me it was our duty to keep order in the vampire society, which included the execution of those malformed beasts . . . I turned a corner, gasping in surprise when I stared down the barrel of a shotgun. . . . Then again, I was just nine.

"Creator of these monsters," a very tall man said, a gravel voice without a visible face, "die-"

"Wait a minute!"

The anti-vampire weapon disappeared, though it seemed to crackle with electricity as it did, provoked by the proximity of my being. "You dumb ass-! What is it now?"

"Language, Yagari! One shouldn't curse in front of pretty girls," his partner chided, his body shielding mine. There was something familiar about this hunter, but I had already edged back, wary with the hybrids that were their scents. Human in most ways yet physiology disturbingly similar to a vampire's, I didn't know what to make of them. "She's a kitten compared to them."

"The brat carries that thing to lure children-"

"It's called a teddy bear!" The blond groaned, exasperated. He peered over his shoulder, somewhat eager to meet my guarded stare under the straw hat. "Snuffles-san, if I'm correct . . ?" At the disbelief on my face, he cheered in a very non-hunter way. "So I was right! It is you, Tsukina-chan!"

"How do you know my name?" I questioned politely, considering he saved me from a certain painful injury.

"I'm acquainted with your mother," he suddenly pouted, "but I understand that she never mentioned me." The blond abruptly perked up, his buoyant mood difficult to keep up with. "I do, however, recall her saying that you inherited the same green eyes of the last king-"

"Oi, Kurosu, this isn't some common, friendly visit!" Yagari shoved him away, his piercing blue orbs shooting me a chilly glare. He smelled too strongly of tobacco and gunpowder, but I didn't dare discredit the Kuran name and kept still. "What are you doing here, pureblood, if not as their keeper?"

With exaggerated innocence, I blinked thrice. "I was curious. Is that a crime now?"

"Where's the girl?"

"What girl?"

A facial muscle of his seemed to twitch in annoyance. My mother's friend smiled encouragingly. "It's okay. I believe you."

Smack!

"At least do your job correctly! She's lying!" He snapped at Kurosu who was rubbing his offended cheek and rearranging his eyeglasses.

"Eh~? But she's too precious to lie! Juri-san hinted so!"

Yagari exhaled slowly. "Great, a Kuran brat-" His words were interrupted by the appearance of a fifth supernatural existence, another blip in the outer edges of my vampiric radar. Pulsing strongly, vibrant with rage . . . "Don't tell me there're two of you."

I paled. "My brother."

The dark-haired hunter ran ahead without another word, and I was tempted to do the same. I had dawdled here too long, inches from being murdered yet miles away from my desired destination. As if sensing my thoughts, Kurosu placed a hand on my forearm. "You are the daughter of someone I admire . . . so honestly . . . tell me why you're really here. What's going on?"

I gazed up at him somberly. "It'll be arrogant of me to ask, but as the child of that someone you respect, please let me go."

"You're aware that Association policy dictates . . ." he trailed off at my glare, sighing. "Yagari will not do you any favors."

"He is not here, and he's not the one I'm questioning." Trying in vain to reign in my restlessness, I retorted, "You would not have seen me if I hadn't wanted to follow in my mother's footsteps!"

My natural affinity over rock and stone instantly lashed out, cracking the very foundation of the Tower Bell behind me. Sand poured over us like afternoon rain, clouds of dust blossoming towards the darkening sky. Much to my surprise, he released his hold and made a show of brushing his head free of fine powder. "You are your mother's daughter," Kurosu informed me seriously, "but do realize, even without you brought there, the Association will have you in its sights now."

"I know," was my quick response as I dissolved along with the gathering smog and vanished into nothingness. I reappeared at the opposite point of town from where I began, a little closer to Kaname's ominous aura but definitely in the right direction . . . and hatless. It must've fallen out earlier, though I didn't mind as much as I should've; the sun was nearly setting.

A whimper broke the short-lived silence. I stilled, head cocked to the side, umbrella perched against shoulder. There it was again - a sniffle, distinctly emanating from under the side stairwell. She sat with her knees drawn in, her face awkwardly buried within her folded arms - the cute girl wearing cute purple ribbons in her hair. At the ruffling of my dress, the five year old looked up, scrutinized me tearfully, and practically lunged forward. I scrambled back in shock, unsure of what to do when she tripped and wailed.

"Mommy! I want Mommy!"

"Mommy," I repeated uncertainly as she wiped her running nose on her sleeve. How was she even alive with Level E after her blood? When the girl continued to cry, I offered her all the carnations that survived the mess inside my bag. "I'll take you to Mommy, yeah?"

Her fingers were slick with sweat and tears, but her grip was surprisingly tight. I had to pry myself free when it was time to hand her over to the local guard across the street. She put up such a fit that the guard came to us instead, and I had to hide in the sun-favored alleyway to avoid more attention. My body instinctively tensed as I watched their figures disappear down the avenue, slowly realizing the mistake of leaving my six unguarded. I was yanked back rather harshly, my spine slamming against the brick wall.

"Let me explain," I rushed out, only to have Kaname take a furious bite at my neck. He was suddenly everywhere - breaking down my mental defenses, penetrating the very barriers of my heart, delving through my most personal of memories. . . . He wanted to understand why I left the Kuran Mansion and its concept of safety, why I left him alone; my brother needed to know everything, and it was just-

"Too much!" I pushed him away, sliding to the ground when my legs wobbled. Hot liquid seeped past my palm as I tried to limit the blood loss, hungry now. "She was . . . bait." I groaned, wondering why I could barely react under the sun's rays yet Kaname still moved so elegantly. "You were the . . . one to save her."

"And you were seen," he pointed out darkly, "by hunters."

I scowled. "Better to see this . . . through the end." Before Kaname could reply, I pulled myself up to my knees and literally swayed to fall all over again in a clumsy, copper-red heap. How embarrassing it would've been for me, if I wasn't too weak to care.

My brother retrieved my smiling umbrella and tipped it over my head, protecting my eyes from the illuminating sunset. I refused to feel thankful. "Are you finished?" Kaname asked, patronizing as ever.

"Are you . . . going to tell me? The big . . . secret?" When it was obvious he wouldn't peep a word, agitation fueled my body, if only for a moment. "Why are you here? If not to help me . . !" The pavement around us splintered into a web of jagged pieces and spidery cracks, utterly at my mercy.

A fragment of hard cement sliced his cheek, but Kaname didn't flinch. Instead, he reached out to touch my face, attempting to mollify Mother's famous temper. "If I had truly wanted to bring you home, I would've done so already." That caused me to slightly relax. "And if I had been aware of how much-"

I interrupted sharply, "Acting ignorant doesn't suit you. You were well aware."

"I knew how curious your heart was," he corrected, "but I never realized how dedicated it was too." My lips pressed into a thin line, but what was left of my frustration faded away. Noticing this, he started to unbutton his shirt cuff - and as long as it was his wrist, not his neck, I would indulge the gluttonous demon within me. "Quickly. Hunter-san isn't pleased to learn he was fighting a decoy."

My fangs were gentle as they pierced his skin. Unlike my brother's unabashed self, I acknowledged the sacredness of one's heart and mind, preferring to respect their privacy instead of barging through them. Still, without peering into Kaname's private thoughts, his blood alone was heaven on a silver platter. I couldn't ask for anything better - perhaps more of his blood, but that single thought was a great enough temptation. It was just too much of a risk, too much of a chance to put on someone as inexperienced as me.

Drink him dry, the monster purred. Devour him completely and be satisfied.

I pulled away with a sense of calm I didn't really feel, silent under Kaname's watchful gaze. When I released his torn wrist, he merely tugged me back into his arms and buried his nose in my hair. Blood familiars of his began to swarm our end of the alley, encircling us in a wild embrace, melding our bodies into one. Before we fully joined his bats in flight, I spotted Kurosu running our way over Kaname's disfiguring shoulder. I remembered how strange and kind and helpful he had been, but it was too late to say my belated thanks as I followed my brother to the skies.

I stumbled sideways once my feet kissed the ground. One's bearings were horribly disoriented after being transformed back to a body with two legs, two hands, and an oval head. "You'd think I'd get used to it by now," I grumbled, accidentally plowing through an overgrown rose bush. For some reason, we were standing in the ruined back garden, not the front entrance.

There was a faint smirk on his mouth, but thankfully, he had the decency not to tease. "As you wished, Onee-san, one of Ichio's abandoned residences."

"I expected a moat somewhere . . ." I grimaced, not impressed by its massive size or the marvelous hillside view. While the night started its rule over day, the horizon was a dying canvas of pinks, purples, and fickle yellows. "This beautiful place feels worse than the Ichijo main house or Murakami Manor."

"Perhaps it was the company that made it more bearable," my brother murmured, helping me out of the thorns' grasp.

My morning dress and stockings were irredeemable from all its rips and tears, but at the strange tone Kaname used, I was too distracted to be bothered. "Takuma's glued to your side. Hanabusa-kun's in love with you," I said lightly, also adding his pretty cousin and younger sister to the long list of admirers. Liron and Sara Shirabuki should've been the least of his worries. "You're the more popular twin. I should be the one jealous."

"Then why aren't you?" Kaname inquired innocently.

Because I already know you're mine, silly . . . I simply smiled, content just to interlace our fingers together. "So, how are we sneaking in?"

He squeezed my hand a little too tightly, but I didn't complain as I let him lead the way inside. I truthfully expected the worse from the scariest member of the Council of Ancients - mold-infested walls, cannibalistic rats, piles of human bones . . . maybe even a dungeon or a hidden torture room. Instead, thick layers of dust and cobwebs seemed to be the mansion's most interesting characteristics. Each piece of furniture - from the paintings to the bookshelves and armchairs - was covered in a white sheet, every set of windows closed and every curtain drawn.

"Behold," Kaname said, a spark of humor in his velvet voice, "the heart of each household."

"I thought that was the dinning room," I remarked, taking in the distinct smell of paper and aged leather. "Or was it the kitchen?"

He shrugged. "To most people . . ."

"But not you," I guessed, my cheeks flushing a soft red. My brother looked at ease as he stood in the middle of the old library, the epitome of effortless grace. I could say I was in love, but like Mother told me days earlier, what would a nine year old know about love? Perhaps Kaname was the exception. While he was resolved with his feelings, I actually liked the concept of taking our time. I even liked the way our palms were a perfect fit, the way his presence soothed mine . . .

"Mihoko."

I blinked. "What?"

"The reason why you're here," Kaname clarified, "is because of Mihoko. Your dreams . . . You want . . . You need to understand, don't you? You're ready to understand . . ."

Before I unwittingly set myself on the same path as his, I noticed the way he was gripping my numb fingers . . . like he didn't think it was possible to let go. "Tell me why my nightmares began the moment I started drinking your blood last year. What connection do I have to our ancestor? When I dream of her . . . why do I also see this other version of you . . ? Tell me why . . . when you stare at me . . . you look as if you've been starved . . ."

So he did.

And suddenly, I didn't feel like nine years old anymore.

Shiri-sama hugs & greets: Helllooo! I am aliiivvee! I'm still not giving up on this story, but unfortunately, future updates are lost in the mystery zone. Sorry, sorry, sorry! I had a hell of a time editing past chapters while finishing this when my computer broke down and forced me to complete it on my phone! My poor thumbs!

I changed the nobles' name from chapter four to Murakami instead of Ito. And after a more careful reading of the manga, it clearly states that Sara Shirabuki wasn't the head of her family and neither was Shizuka Hio. Their family heads were in "stasis" or in deep sleep which they wouldn't awaken from after several centuries . . . so I made Sara an acting head while her aunt, the actual head of the family and a total OC, was in slumber.

Kiyoe's part of the chapter was just leaking with angst, more than I had originally planned. While I was typing her POV, I was actually going through a woe-to-me phase and didn't realize my moodiness bleeding into my writing. I'm worried if the angst was too much or if some of the characters were turning OC. Any comments on my writing would be very appreciated so I can do better on the next update. (:

And yes! Kaname finally told Tsukina of their true origins as ancestors - at least, just the parts he remembers. I'm going to have a lot of fun creating Mihoko's original timeline! If you guys didn't already guess, when the royal couple first met, Mihoko was married to someone else and Kaname was still grieving "the hooded woman" from the manga. So it isn't a love in first sight beginning and sets place during the human/vampire war . . .

Werewolves. Surprise!

I do not own Vampire Knight, but my OWN OCs are my OWN and made of my OWN ideas. Also, to those who are strictly anime watchers, this story will make a lot more sense if you read the manga. Enjoy it, read it, and review it if you can!