Beta: EternalAngel
A/N: A special thank you to Aryn-kitten for reminding of something that's importance in Ryoma's life should not be forgotten:
Ponta.

Comments and criticism are much appreciated.

The car stopped before his home, and Ryoma smiled for what felt like years. The sterile hospital with its tasteless food, and friendly, sometimes annoyingly so, nurses had felt more like a prison, than a place for healing. He hoped that at home, sleeping in his own bed with Karupin, the nightmares wouldn't haunt him.

"I called the police station," his father started the conversation when they were sitting at dinner, Ryoma with his cat, Karupin on his lap, and a can of Ponta next to his plate. Usually his mother didn't allow it, him holding Karupin, or drinking anything other than milk during dinner, but today she was willing to bend the rules for Ryoma's happiness. "They're sending someone over."

"Nanjiroh, why didn't you tell me?" Rinko wanted to know.

"I just did!" Nanjiroh answered, screaming, and waving his arms dramatically before his wife's glare. "Anyway, they just want to talk to you again, kid, now that you're over the shock, and everything," he told Ryoma and stuffed a piece of bread in his mouth.

"I already talked to them at the hospital!" Ryoma shouted, panicking. "I don't want to talk to them again, I already told them everything I remember!" Ryoma stood up and Karupin jumped from his lap.

"Ryoma, calm down," Rinko tried to assure him when the door bell rang. They all turned to look at the hall.

"I'm not talking to them," Ryoma said, picked up Karupin and headed upstairs, to his room.

"Ryoma!"

"Let the kid go, Rinko, he'll cool down in a day or two," Ryoma heard his father say before he was in his room, the door closed. He stood in the middle of the room, clutching Karupin. The cat struggled, not happy being held so tightly, and startled, Ryoma let go. He hadn't meant to hurt Karupin.

Ryoma went to his window, but couldn't see the front of the house from his room, so he didn't know if they were still there. He didn't even know if they were the same people that had come to see him at the hospital. If they had been some other people, Ryoma might have agreed to see them. Even if it had been only the one with the egg head, Ryoma might have agreed to see him. But he didn't want to see Inui.

Something about him, in the cold way Inui acted, made Ryoma nervous. He was afraid that if he talked to Inui, he would let things slip. And if he told Inui everything he knew, the man would tell them to his parents. If Ryoma started speaking about vampires again, he was afraid his parents would lock him up somewhere.

They'd almost done it five years ago. He'd held on to his story, claiming the man he had seen at the airport was a vampire for so long, they'd finally sent him to see someone. The woman asked him a lot of questions, not just about the man at the airport, but did he see a lot of things others didn't, did he sense things, hear what others thought.

He'd eavesdropped on her and his parents once, after one of his sessions. Ryoma had been in the waiting room and listened, his ear pressed on the door. "The child's insistence in believing the man he encountered was a vampire worries me. If it does not desist, it might be a good idea to take him in the hospital for a short time, so we can keep a closer eye on him," she'd told them with a soft voice.

"Is that really necessary?" he'd heard his mother's voice ask.

"I'll see him a few more weeks, and we'll see how it goes," she'd told them.

So Ryoma had listened to the woman and her explanations that sounded reasonable. The stranger hadn't been a vampire, because vampires didn't exist. The only reason Ryoma thought so, was because he had been scared, and not willing to believe a human could be so terrifying, he had turned the stranger into a supernatural being, someone not human.

He wondered now if he'd ever really believed it. If he'd only made himself believe it so he wouldn't be locked up.

"Ryoma?" his mother called from behind the closed door.

"I'm not talking to them!" Ryoma yelled. "I told them everything!"

"I know honey," Rinko said. "They left, so won't you open the door?"

Ryoma hesitated, but finally opened the door, half expecting to see the cops in the corridor behind his mother, or huge male nurses ready to take him to the asylum. Instead all he saw was his mother, holding the phone.

"It's Kachirou. He would like to talk to you," she said, holding the phone out for him.

Ryoma took the phone. "Thanks mom," he whispered. "I'm sorry."

"It's alright," Rinko brushed her hand on his head. "Bring the phone down when you're done, alright?"

"Okay," Ryoma said and watched his mother go downstairs. When alone, he lifted the phone to his ear. "Yeah?"

"Hi Ryoma-kun! Are you alright now? They wouldn't let us come see you at the hospital." Kachirou's cheery voice summoned the image of his friend to his mind. Kachirou was part of the school's tennis team just like Ryoma. He and a few other boys Ryoma knew had been on the same class and on the tennis team ever since Ryoma moved to Japan with his family five years ago.

"I'm fine, but I can't play tennis for a while," Ryoma told him.

"That's so like you, Ryoma-kun, to think about tennis when you're hurt," Kachirou chuckled on the phone. "The captain's gonna be crushed, but I think we can pull through until you recover. Any idea how long?"

"A week, probably," Ryoma said.

"Well that's not too long. You think your mom would let you come over?" Kachirou asked.

"Why?"

"Well, everyone's coming, and my parents are out of town for the weekend. Horio's trying to get some girls to come, but since it's Horio, that's probably not going to happen, so Katsuo asked Tomoka if she'd ask some of her friends. You know, Ryuzaki-chan's coming."

Ryoma gulped. "So?" he asked, trying to sound indifferent.

"She's been real worried about you," Kachirou added in a sly voice.

"Whatever," Ryoma muttered.

"So, you gonna come?" Kachirou asked.

"I'm coming, bye," Ryoma said and hung up.

He'd met Ryuzaki Sakuno the same way he'd met his other friends. She'd been at the same class with them, and with her friend Tomoka she'd followed the boy's tennis team when they competed in different tournaments during junior high. Ryoma never thought of her as anything more than another friend.

Or at least he hadn't until Kachirou one day said, "She's pretty, isn't she?"

Ryoma had shrugged, not really knowing what to say. He'd looked at Sakuno, her long hair and big eyes and thought, yes, she was. Not just pretty. Beautiful. Ryoma could easily imagine holding her hand, kissing her.

"Mom, I'm going to Kachirou's!" Ryoma yelled, running down the stairs.

"What? But… Are you sure honey?" Rinko came to the hall from the living room. "I thought we could've ordered some pizza, and maybe watch a movie together, have a family night."

"Let the kid go, Rinko. We can have a parents' night!" Nanjiroh shouted, appearing next to his wife and pulling her to his side.

"But… I don't want him to come home too late," Rinko protested.

"I can stay at Kachirou's for the night," Ryoma told her. He hadn't asked Kachirou, but was sure it'd be alright. He didn't want to walk home in the dark any more than Rinko wanted him to.

"Oh… Alright then, but take your phone with you. And call us when you get there!" Rinko shouted when Ryoma was already halfway out the door, pulling his jacket on.

"Fine mom!" Ryoma yelled, running already.

He caught the bus that led to the centre of the city, where he would take another one that would get him to where Kachirou lived. When he stepped out off the bus, the sun had already set and the street lights were lit. He hadn't realized it was so late already. If he had, he might not have agreed to go.

Everything looked different in the artificial light. Cold and frightening. The people that were out didn't look him in the eyes and smile, like they did when the sun was up. The darkness changed them, the way Ryoma looked at them. They weren't just people living their lives anymore. With no daylight to keep him safe, every one of them could have been a monster, in the guise of a human form. None of their faces looked familiar; they were all strangers, all with their own hidden purpose for walking the streets at night.

Someone bumped into Ryoma and he stumbled back and hit the wall of the plastic buss stop. "Watch it," Ryoma muttered, even though the culprit had already moved on. He glared after the man and his eyes landed on another one.

The man was young, in his twenties and dressed like a businessman, with a long dark over coat. His eyes met Ryoma's and the boy gasped. He recognized that face. It was a face that had looked at him with curiosity, as he'd lain in a pool of his own blood.

The man turned away, no sign on his face that he'd recognized, or even seen Ryoma.

Ryoma knew he should've turned away, taken the next bus to Kachirou's, forget he ever saw the man, and carry on with his life. But he couldn't just turn away, and leave now that he'd seen the man, had the possibility to confront the one thing that had ever really scared him, to know.

Every step he took in the man's footsteps, he felt his fear heighten, raising his heart beat, bring a cold sweat on his skin. He heard the cars around him, the people that chatted as they passed him, the ringing of a stranger's cell phone, and the laugh of a woman. He heard it all, but it did not matter like the sound of his own breath, the beat of his heart, the click of the man's shoes on the pavement mattered.

The man stopped and so did Ryoma, certain that the man had noticed him following. But the man did not turn around. He stood where he was, waiting.

A woman walked past the man, the bottom of her shopping bag ripped open, and a jar of something red, that Ryoma thought might have been jam, fell on the ground and broke, spilling its contents on her skirt. She bent down and tried to wipe it off, staining her fingers. She gasped, when the man Ryoma had been following took her hand. If he spoke, or the woman answered, Ryoma was too far to hear them.

She tried to pull her hand away from the grip, but the man brought her fingers to his lips, and licked away the substance staining them. Her eyes followed the tongues trail as it slid across her skin; she shivered when lips were pressed on her palm, flushed as the man entwined their fingers together, and her hand let go of the shredded shopping bag. When the man led her away, she did not notice the people stepping aside for them, her gaze never leaving the man.

They finally stopped, on a narrow street, so far from the shops and traffic that it did not seem like a part of the city anymore. The white lights shining on the couple gave them ethereal beauty that separated them from reality, and made Ryoma feel like an intruder, forcing himself in the dream the two shared.

The man lifted his hand to the woman's face, and she pressed her cheek against the palm, closing her eyes, trusting the man without hesitation. The man bent his head down, and Ryoma looked away. He heard the woman's breathy gasp, and her scream, that sounded like a one filled more with pleasure, than pain. And he wanted to look.

But before he could turn, a voice whispered near his ear. "You followed me knowing what I was, what would become of her." Filled with arrogance as the voice was, it did not hold a threatening tone, but a one that had Ryoma heeding to every word it spoke. "If you so desire, she will avoid that fate. I will spare her, if you offer your life for hers."

Give up his life for that woman? Why should he?

Ryoma turned his eyes back on the woman, standing where the man had left her. She woke from her daze, placed a hand on her neck, stared at the blood on her fingers, and let out a startled cry. She looked around her, lost. When her gaze found Ryoma, and the man beside the boy, she stepped towards them, mouth opening to speak the question that showed on her face. But another second passed, her gaze returned to the man, and her eyes widened with fear. "You," she whispered. "What are you?" she screamed, her voice trembling with terror.

"Choose," the man spoke again, his lips almost touching skin.

The woman turned to Ryoma. "Run! Get help! He's a monster!" she cried, her voice shrieking.

"Answer or you will both die tonight," the man's voice lowered, turned threatening. "Will you save her?"

Ryoma parted his lips, but could not speak, did not want to answer. Was her life worth more than his, was he worth anything for even considering it?

At the end, all he could do was shake his head. He did not want to die, could not agree to give his life, even if that meant sacrificing someone else.

The man was by the woman in an instant, taking her arms. "Please, I don't want to die," she pleaded.

The man smiled gently, his face softening, calming the woman. While the terror still stayed on her face, she did not move, or cry anymore. When her arms were released, she did not run. When the man extended his hand, she took it, still shaking, eyes wide, and mouth trembling.

The man pulled her in his caress, pressed his mouth on her neck, and her lips parted to let out a scream that never came. Her hands clasped on the man's shoulders, and her fingers turned white as she squeezed harder, holding onto the man. Her gaze sought Ryoma's, and the boy could not look away from the accusation he saw in her eyes.

"I'm sorry," Ryoma whispered, knowing she wouldn't hear, and even if she could, would never forgive him.

The woman's eyes fluttered close, she let out a sound that could have been a word, a name even, but what ever she felt, be it pain or pleasure made it come out as a sharp cry. She pulled her body tighter against the monster holding her, arched her back.

She smiled, and the smile remained on her lips even after death.

The man placed a kiss on her forehead, and set her body on the ground with care. He looked up, the passive face changing when he locked eyes with Ryoma. The smile now adorning his face was different from the one he had given the woman. It was only a half of a smile, cruel and arrogant, amused.

The man took a step towards the boy, and Ryoma took one back. Another step and Ryoma turned. He ran, the fear making his feet move faster, making it impossible for him to see what was in front of him, where he was going.

"Echizen-san!" someone shouted and he twisted around, tripped and fell, squeezing his eyes shut.

When hands landed on his shoulders Ryoma screamed, "No!"

"Echizen-san," the same voice spoke his name again, and Ryoma suddenly remembered where he had heard it before.

He turned around, and recognized the man as one of the police, that had come to speak to him at the hospital. He didn't remember the name, but the worried expression was the same. "Are you alright, Echizen-san? Do you remember me? I'm Oishi Syuichirou, we met at the hospital yesterday."

"Che, of course I remember you. I wasn't hit on the head," Ryoma snapped and stood up, hoping Oishi didn't notice he was shaking.

"What were you running from, Echizen-san?" Ryoma hadn't notice Inui standing behind Oishi. He glared and looked around, wondering if he could loose the two if he ran. Inui seemed to sense his intention and tensed.

"Just felt like running," Ryoma shrugged. "I'm late."

"Hmm, you seemed scared," Inui said and took out a notebook from his breast pocket. "You are lying."

"You can't prove that! And why are you following me?" Ryoma demanded to know. Anger, he discovered, was a good way to get rid of his fear.

"Oh, we just happened to be around the neighbourhood," Oishi said, waving his arms.

"Don't bother Oishi. He doesn't believe you," Inui said. "Protecting the witness is what we call it."

"The witness?" Ryoma asked.

"I believe you witnessed the murder of the two young men that attacked you."

"You mean the ones that tried to kill me," Ryoma corrected him.

"Very well, the two young men that attempted to kill you," Inui said. "Still, that does not change the fact that you are protecting a murderer. You should do your duty and expose his identity, to prevent further murders from taking place."

Ryoma wasn't going to tell them it was too late. And he was just as guilty as the monster. It had given him a choice, a chance to save the woman. Ryoma could've done something, yelled, attacked the man, anything. Instead he'd just stood there, and watched.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Ryoma said.

"I understand you may feel indebted to this man for saving your life, but he may come after you, once he realises you are still alive," Inui opened his notebook and took out a pen, preparing to write down what ever Ryoma would say. "Tell us what you know, and we will protect you from him."

"You can't," Ryoma said.

"Echizen-san, I promise, we will have our best men protecting you," Oishi said and clasped the boy's shoulder in a comforting grip.

"You can't because I don't know anything! I didn't see anything! Now leave me alone!" Ryoma screamed, shrugged Oishi's hand off, and walked away from them.

"He is lying," Inui said.

"So he knows who the murderer is?" Oishi asked.

"Yes. And he does not believe we can protect him." After adding a few lines to his notebook, Inui put it back in his pocket.

"You still haven't told me how come you're so convinced, that those two were murdered?" Oishi asked. "I know we've identified them, and no one's been able to locate them, but those things don't mean they're dead. They've been wanted for a long time, and have always been able to avoid being captured."

"Simply because there have been no sightings of them after that night," Inui said. "Prior to that, even if they were never taken in to custody, there has always been reports of them been sighted in some part of the city, alone or together. But not a single thing after that boy was attacked."

"That does seem like a logical assumption, then," Oishi agreed. "But is it really alright to not have more people protecting Echizen-san? If what you think is right, then wouldn't the murderer go after him, sooner or later?"

"The chief isn't prepared to waste more manpower on this, if my hunch turns out to be wrong," Inui said. "We shall have to do our best together, Oishi."

Oishi sighed and nodded. "I really hope this will turn out okay," he said. "He seems like a nice kid."

Ryoma finally made it to Kachirou's. The house had two stories and a big garden in the back. The garden was big enough for them to play soccer, but not even enough for them to play tennis.

That was the reason Ryoma didn't like hanging out with his friends on holidays. Unless they wanted to play doubles, or pay huge sums to get in to a private club, the only place they could play tennis, was at Ryoma's house. And unfortunately, Ryoma couldn't lock his dad in the basement while his friends were visiting.

Ryoma rang the doorbell, waiting for Kachirou to let him in. Instead Sakuno opened the door.

"Ryoma-kun," she greeted him. Sakuno smiled shyly and averted her gaze when Ryoma answered her smile. She'd always been like that, for as long as Ryoma remembered. Always shy.

Her hair was long and straight. Ryoma was sure he'd never seen it without the braids before. She had a pink butterfly clip, keeping the hair from her face. It was the kind Ryoma had seen little girls wear, but it suited Sakuno.

"I was glad to hear you got out of the hospital, Ryoma-kun. Are you alright now?" Sakuno asked worriedly.

"I'm fine," Ryoma mumbled, and wondered if he repeated it to enough people, he'd believe it. "Didn't think you'd be here already."

"We've been here for an hour already." She smiled again, but didn't look away, and Ryoma felt he should say something, not just smile back at her.

"Is that Echizen? Did he bring the beer?" Horio screamed from inside the house, saving Ryoma from having to think of something to say.

"You brought beer, Ryoma-kun? I don't think I can drink," Sakuno said.

"I didn't. Horio's just being an ass," Ryoma said. "It's his turn to get the drinks," he added and Sakuno chuckled.

Atobe watched the boy speak with the girl, from across the street.

He knew the game he'd begun with the boy was foolish, and dangerous. Letting the boy watch him kill, letting him go. It wasn't like him, to be so reckless. Killing the boy would have been safer. He would talk eventually, tell the two men following him even now, who he had seen. He was still innocent, after all, a victim.

Atobe watched them, the two police men Inui and Oishi, take their positions near the house. The mind of the other one, Oishi, was easy for him to read. He was open, empathic, caring. He worried for the boy, for the world. Seeing other people sad and miserable hurt him as if the pain they felt was his own.

Inui was different. His mind was filled with cold logic, numbers and percentages. He would protect the boy as passionately as the other one, but only because it was what was required of him. If the boy would ever turn out to be something other than a victim, he would not hesitate to catch and punish him.

He reminded Atobe of another he had known once, that cold, logical mind. But even that logic had faltered before human emotions that should have been void from the soul of a monster, such as them. Atobe wondered briefly, if the same would ever happen to this one.

But he had no time, or desire to begin another game with that mortal. There was more amusement to be gained from the boy, who had chosen his own life over that of an innocent woman. His answer had shocked, than amused Atobe. He had expected the boy to answer otherwise.

"What will you do now, Echizen Ryoma?" Atobe asked in a soft voice, knowing it was too silent to carry to anyone's ears. Still the boy turned to look in the direction where he stood, and frowned. "This will be interesting." Atobe smiled, seeing the boy's reaction.