Beta: EternalAngel

The sunlight was bright and Ryoma squinted when his mother drew the curtains aside. "Mom, close them," Ryoma rasped, his throat dry. He touched the bandaged wound on his neck with the hand that didn't ache and wondered again, how he'd managed to survive.

"The day is too beautiful for you to not enjoy it," Rinko said and smiled. "Your father will come and see you later tonight, and he will bring you something to read. Be patient darling, you'll be home tomorrow."

Ryoma groaned and leaned back on the pillows. He could just imagine what his dad's idea of reading was. It'd be something the nurses would find and scold him for, as if he could just go waltzing out of the hospital doors and buy them. It was his dad that insisted on Ryoma having a stack of perverted magazines in his room that Ryoma regularly burnt each month, and after a brief mourning period, Nanjiroh would then replace with other, similar magazines. It was a tradition they'd had ever since Ryoma turned thirteen. He would never forget the Christmas morning he opened a present wrapped in bright red paper and saw a pair of large breasts staring at him.

"Try not to fight with him, Ryoma," Rinko said and bent down to hug him and give him a kiss on the cheek.

"It's not me that needs to try, mom," Ryoma muttered.

Rinko placed her palm on Ryoma's cheek and smiled, her eyes worried suddenly. "Are you sure you're alright? Would you like to talk to someone? What happened might have brought memories up."

"Che, I'm fine mom," Ryoma huffed and pushed the hand away. "I'm fine. That happened years ago, I'm over it!"

"Are you? Really?" Rinko pressed. "The nurses told me you've been having nightmares."

Ryoma scowled and looked away. "I didn't know the nurses moonlighted as snitches," he muttered.

"We're just worried for you, Ryoma," Rinko said and bent down to kiss him again and ruffled his hair. "Don't pout. It looks cute, and I know how you hate being called that." She smiled one last time and left her pouting son.

"I'm not cute," Ryoma mumbled and scowled. He frowned when a passing nurse giggled at seeing him. "Aren't there any professionals working in this hospital?" Ryoma yelled after her and someone closed the door for him.

Alone now, Ryoma sighed and closed his eyes. He opened them almost immediately when he saw the blood drenched face of the spiky haired monster turning to ash. The death of the monsters had scared Ryoma more than their attack. The one that had caused their deaths scared Ryoma, as much as the man at the airport, years ago, had.

And both had chosen to spare him. He was alive now, not because of his own actions, but because two monsters had decided not to kill him. "Fuck you both," Ryoma hissed. He hadn't asked to be spared, treated like a helpless victim. It infuriated him that both had considered him so weak. He hated himself even more for the reason that even now, after years he couldn't shake the fear that the stranger had made him feel. The man had not even touched him, and it was the memory of his eyes that woke Ryoma screaming in the middle of the night, not the memory of sharp teeth sinking into his wrist or the hand covering his face, suffocating him.

How was he supposed to go on like this, knowing there existed beings that possessed power like that? He would never be able to live freely now, knowing what he knew, that he would always be weak, nothing more than a hunted animal to those that saw fit to view him as such.

"Echizen-san." The door opened and a man stepped inside. He wore thick glasses that hid his eyes and had spiky black hair, much like the one that Ryoma remembered on the other that had attacked him. "My name is Inui Sadaharu and this is my partner Oishi Shuichiro. We are with the police and would like to ask you a few questions." The man showed his badge when he was standing next to Ryoma's bed and after looking at it a few moments, trying to look like he knew what a police badge looked like, Ryoma nodded.

"We understand it has been a trying experience for you, but we would like you to go over the night that your attack happened in detail, please, so we may catch the culprits," Inui said and took out a notebook from his breast pocket.

Ryoma nearly snorted and told them they were dead already, there was no point, but stopped himself. The men wouldn't believe him, there was no point in making them think he was insane by telling them he'd been attacked by vampires. "Sure," he said.

"Would you like some water, Echizen-san?" the other man, Oishi asked.

"Yeah, thanks," Ryoma answered and a glass of water was placed on his hand with a reassuring smile. Ryoma stared at the glass he held, and wondered what he could say safely. Finally, he decided to tell the truth up until the moment he had lost consciousness. The doctors had already told him that the wound in his arm appeared to have been made by fangs, but not from any animal.

Ryoma suspected the police would blame it on some gang members or occultists like his father. "There were two of them," he started. "The other one was big, muscular. Hair like yours, Inui-san. I don't mean the other one was small, or weak, he just wasn't as muscular as the other one. I think he was called Kaidoh. The smaller one, that is. I never heard the bigger one's name."

"And how did you become to acquire this information?" Inui wrote while he spoke.

"He said, 'How did he know Kaidoh? Do you think he's-'"

"He's what, Echizen-san?" Inui asked.

"I don't know," Ryoma said and looked away. He couldn't believe he'd almost said it out loud.

"And what did you know, Echizen-san? That might be helpful to our investigation."

"I don't know," Ryoma said. "Look, I don't remember much! I was scared! I'm not proud of it, but I was! They didn't even want my money, just wanted to kill me!" The panic in his voice was real, and Oishi was shaken by his fear stricken face, but Inui was not so easily affected.

"I am convinced you know, Echizen-san, but remain silent because you wish to protect someone," Inui said, putting something down on his notebook. "But please, go on. What happened then?"

"What happened then?" Ryoma asked, growling. "What the hell do you think happened then!" Ryoma yelled, waving his arms. The water in the glass he was holding spilled on to the covers, on his lap and Ryoma cursed, throwing it aside. "They tried to kill me, that's what the fuck happened next!"

"But they were not successful. I wonder what could have scared them off," Inui mused.

"I don't fucking care, I'm just happy to be alive! If I ever meet the bastard, I'll kiss him!" he yelled and stormed out off the room, his hospital gown flopping behind him, revealing very trimmed buttocks and thighs that did not escape Inui's notice.

"What do you think, Inui?" Oishi asked.

"That he's an active athlete with a respectable training schedule," Inui responded and when Oishi splattered, added, "Also, he's not telling us everything. You heard him. If he ever meets the bastard, he'll kiss him."

"You can't make a hypothesis based on just that!" Oishi resisted. "It doesn't necessarily mean anything! Just a generalization!"

"I don't think it was," Inui said. "If you note I said what, not who could have scared them off. Yet the boy straight away jumped to a person."

"That still doesn't prove anything. And what reason could he have to lie?" Oishi demanded to know, taking the boy's side.

"Gratitude," Inui responded. "Whoever it was, they saved the boy's life."

"Well, even if you're right, which I'm not saying you are!" Oishi shouted when a pleased smile began to stretch his partner's lips, "He doesn't seem very gratified. He called him a bastard."

"For all we know that might be what he is-"

"Inui!"

"I was not done, Oishi." Inui said. "We can not be certain that the suspect was not born out of wedlock."

"Suspect?"

"I believe the two persons that attacked young Echizen are dead."

"Oh my."

Ryoma ran through the hospital's corridor's, bumping into people. He didn't stop when people yelled after him, he could hardly see anything. He sniffed, trying to pretend he wasn't crying and tripped on something on the floor. He landed on his bandaged wrist and grimaced, but stood up and ran more, ignoring the pain radiating from the wrist. He felt something moist on the bandages, and knew the wound had opened again. The nurses had told him to be careful with it, the scars were still fresh and if the wounds would re-open they might get infected.

Ryoma knew he should have searched for a doctor or a nurse to look at his wrist, but didn't stop. He found a door to the staircase, opened it and ran down. He finally reached the ground level and opened a door that read 'EXIT'. And stopped, his fingers on the door handle, one foot outside, the other still on the floor of the staircase.

The sun had set. It was dark in the alley where the exit led. There wasn't even a single street lamp illuminating the area.

Ryoma stood there, shaking. "Shit," he whispered, his teeth clattering. "Fuck," he hissed, when tears flowed down his face and his feet gave out under him. He lost his grip in the door and fell on his knees. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," he repeated the word like it was a prayer, drawing his knees to his chest, swaying from side to side, willing himself to stop being so fucking afraid.

Ryoma finally climbed back up to his room and was relieved when he found it empty, except for a stack of magazines on the table next to his bed. He didn't even bother checking them, knowing his dad had been there.

"Echizen-kun, where have you been?" a nurse came into the room. "Your father came and wondered where you are, the whole ward has been looking for you!" She came to herd him towards the bed.

"Can you get rid of those?" Ryoma asked, pointing at the magazines.

"Hmm?" she asked, and took the magazines. Her eyebrows rose and her mouth drew to a thin line. "I most certainly will. You go back to bed, your father will be coming back any minute now, I expect." She pulled the blanket over Ryoma when he climbed on the bed and ruffled his hair affectionately before heading out off the room with the magazines.

Ryoma leaned against the pillows and stared at the ceiling. He didn't want to close his eyes and sleep, even if he was tired. He'd woken in this room two nights ago, his parents by his bed. There hadn't been a single peaceful night after that, every single one of them had been filled with blue eyes that chased him through darkness.

"Kid! What do you think you're doing, disappearing like that, giving your old man a heart attack!" His dad charged in to the room. "Be grateful your mother wasn't here!"

"The cops were here," Ryoma told him.

"What?" Nanjiroh said. "They talked to you when your mother or I weren't here?"

"Yeah."

"They had no right to talk to you without either of us being there," Nanjiroh took a chair and drew it by his bed and sat down. "What did they say, anyway? Do they know who did it yet?"

"No, they wanted me to tell them," Ryoma said.

"The cops really are mada mada-"

"Dane," Ryoma finished for his father and they shared a rare moment of understanding between father and son.

"You remember their names?" Nanjiroh asked.

"Inui, something. I don't remember what the other one was called, except he had a head that was shaped like an egg."

"An egg head as a cop, eh? Well, shouldn't be too hard to find them. Besides, I'm sure they'll be in contact with me or your mom soon," Nanjiroh said.

"Echizen-san, visiting hours have ended. I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to leave," the nurse that had tucked Ryoma in, told them from the door.

"Alright, I'm leaving," Nanjiroh waved at her and she left. "Psst, kid, I know they took the magazines I left earlier, so I brought you some extra," Nanjiroh chuckled as he gave Ryoma a new stack of magazines.

Ryoma stared at the magazines and sighed. "Thanks dad," he said.

Nanjiroh poked him on the shoulder. "Are you high on drugs?" he asked.

"No!" Ryoma yelled and smacked his dad over the head with the magazines.

"That's my boy!" Nanjiroh grinned and patted him on the shoulder. "Your mom and I'll be back tomorrow to get you home, so don't get too fond of the food here!"

"Who would?" Ryoma muttered.

"Ryoma, what happened to your wrist?" Nanjiroh asked.

Ryoma looked at his wrist and noticed the bandage had gotten soaked with blood. "I fell on it," he said.

"I'll get the nurse," Nanjiroh told him. "Just be careful, kid. We don't want them to keep you here any longer then they have to," he said, before going.

Ryoma woke to the pain. His head was pounding, and his wrist was aching again. He wondered if he should call the nurse. But they wouldn't give him anymore drugs. They hadn't in any of the nights Ryoma had woken up screaming. At least it hadn't been the nightmares that woke him this time. He was grateful for the pain, taking him away from the horrors of his dreams. He'd dreamt of the man at the airport again.

The curtains on his window were still drawn, and the light of the street lamps outside shone on his face. He turned and stared at the white wall he was now facing. But the yellow light, together with the tree branch that moved in the wind, made the shadows dance on the wall, making his headache worse.

He got up and walked to the window, the floor cold under his bare feet. He lifted his hand to the curtain and hesitated. Should he look outside? What if he saw one of them there? The monster could've followed him, wanting to finish what it had started. Maybe it was just waiting to see if he would look out to the street. What if it'd been there the whole night, the hunger in his soul hidden by the closed eyelids as it stared at the window of his room. It would come when he would look, with that gentle smile on its lips, slowly widening to a grin, baring its fangs. It would speak again with that caressing voice and whisper horrors to his ears.

It was still the stranger that Ryoma feared. Not the ones that had attacked him; or the one that had slain them. The memory of the stranger still made him tremble in the night when he woke alone, the knowledge that it really had been a monster, not a man that he'd spoken with, brought back the terror he'd thought to have overcome.

Ryoma trembled and pulled on the curtain, trying to draw it over the window, not wanting to confirm his fears. He pulled too hard and it came down with a small rattle, and he stumbled back, heart thumping, still clutching the curtain. He couldn't tear his eyes from the window, waiting for something to appear on it. A part of him wanted something to appear. If the monster would come to kill him, at least it would be over now. He wouldn't have to live with this fear.

And he was sick of it, being afraid of the dark, of every creak he heard, of what laid in the shadows. The worst part was he never knew if there was anything. If all he feared were the shadows and the wind.

A/N: Yup, no un-dead creatures in this chapter. There'll be in the next one.