A\N: I'll cry if you don't get this one. The song title is in the lyrics. Yeah. All the points to those of you who figured out that Toshio was going to cheat on his girlfriend. And I had to edit the description. Because omfg I was sick when I wrote it. Also. On Tsubara. The manga said that he was a year above Seishin in university, so here, I assumed that Toshio would be acquainted with him. I'm honestly not "changing" Tsubara's sexual orientation "out of convenience." This is what I got out of the epilogue. And the (heart). Fanfiction won't let me stick an actual heart there. :'c since I'm making an obscenely long author's note, how about I just casually add that I now possess the tumblr urls ozakisdick and muroisdick.

He had spent a good portion of the night in the decomposing room. Long enough to know that Mutou's anemia had led to his kidney failure. And it was that anemia that led him to suspect foul play.

He had helped conduct an autopsy, which had only verified the earlier hypothesis. Before the man had a chance to hang himself, he had been taken by renal failure. His throat had shown no signs of asphyxiation; his trachea had not shown any signs of damage.

But this in itself was strange. Why would he hang himself, if he was going to die from anemia only moments after?

Was it to save his family from worry?

The suicide note seemed to be hastily scribbled out, showing no regard for proper penmanship. Was it possible for Seishin to have scrawled it out before draining him? And, after that… Seishin would have casually moved him to the living room, and hung him from his own fan.

That seemed consistent enough with the evidence, though the death certificate read otherwise. He'd signed off on acute renal failure caused by a genetic abnormality.

But he knew otherwise.

The phone in his pocket buzzed. A text from Shiomi. Hey, To-chan. You didn't call, so I was worried. Is everything alright? (: - love Yuki

He took a cigarette from his pocket, and lit it. I'm fine. I just… Sorry. I have some work to do, so I'll be back in a bit. - (heart) Toshio.

He almost regretted tacking a heart onto the end of his message.

But that would have made her mad.

And a mad Shiomi inevitably meant that his planned "investigation" would be curtailed.

He snapped the phone shut, and slid it back in with the cigarettes.

It was going to be a long night.

Why had Seishin chosen to reappear now?

Was it because he felt just as empty? Was the corpse some sort of gristly signal? He sighed. There were six "insect bites" in total. Three different pairs of fangs. Even if Seishin had taken Kirishiki with him (which Toshio was sure he had,) that left one pair entirely unaccounted for.

So perhaps it wasn't Seishin after all.

He itched for a cigarette. His girlfriend wasn't around to tell him otherwise.

Where was he supposed to look for Seishin in the first place? He'd left his novel at home—perhaps there was information about the author.

He'd spotted a copy of the novel in the glass of a bookstore across the street. He'd felt strongly about it. So he'd been fine shelling out 500 yen for it. He'd begun to flip through it.

His breath hitched as he stumbled upon the author information. Though that was predictably scanty. Something about living with a daughter. Kirishiki. So perhaps it was him, after all. She could have bit him twice, and Seishin once.

Was that plausible?

He'd flipped back to the front cover. There was some publication information there. At least that was a start.

The publisher was thankfully close. He'd go there. After all, they were bound to have some information about Seishin.

He sidled up to the building. It was rather non-descript. What was he expecting? Tokyo Tower? He'd recalled driving Seishin up to the front doors once. Seishin didn't have a car. And he was leery of making the journey by moped. So Toshio had volunteered to drive him.

But this had made the priest rather uncomfortable, for some reason.

He'd taken the bus after that time.

The doctor never been inside. What was he to expect?

The glass doors swung open, and he'd found a familiar man on top of an unfamiliar one.

"Tsubara." It wasn't really a question.

"To—Toshio? What are you doing here?" His cherry red face betrayed his surprise. He eased off the other man. "Uh… Yeah. So I'll see you later." He waved off the other man.

"…Uh… I… Who was that?"

"… We're dating." He didn't look at the doctor. Was he ashamed of it?

"You're…?"

"I wouldn't go so far as to label myself." He retrieved his glasses from his desk; though both of them knew that these were merely accessories. "… Anyways, why are you here?"

The answer was relatively simple. "Seishin."

He shrugged. "Then you should probably leave. I don't know where he is. No one does." It wasn't the answer the doctor was hoping for.

The doctor tapped the end of his cigarette. "Oh, really?"

"Yes, really." He sat back in his chair and flipped opened his phone. "He disappeared after we finalized the novel."

"I don't believe you."

Tsubara sighed again. "You're just as obstinate as the first guy."

"…There was someone before me?"

"Newspaper reporter. Right after the fire." He continued composing a message on his phone. He wasn't even looking at Toshio.

"He sent me a copy of his book…"

"Did something happen between you guys?"

How was he supposed to explain that one? Sorry, the guy we know is now a vampire, and probably living with a smaller girl-child-demon vampire. But we don't call them vampires, we call them Shiki, because it seems to fit better. Oh. I tried to kill all the vampires, but it didn't work and the town burned down. I haven't seen him since. I suspect that he's behind a murder, and I'm trying to find him so that… Well, I don't know why I want to find him. I just do. Yeah. That's exactly how it is.

Instead, he opted for "… Yeah. We had a misunderstanding. I just wanted to say that I was sorry."

The editor nodded. "He forgives you. Now, go home."

"… Did he really disappear?"

Tsubara smiled. "Yeah. He's gone. Bank account annulled and everything."

"… You know something, don't you?" Why else would he be smiling? He was Seishin's friend, wasn't he? He was still staring at his cell phone. Cell phone. Seishin. Smile.

He had Seishin's number.

Tsubara's eyes widened. He'd caught on. "… I don't think that I'm allowed-."

Toshio had interrupted him. "Do you want money?" He hadn't meant to yell. "I can give you money. Here. Have my fucking credit card!" He reached into his wallet and drew out the pieces of plastic, flinging them at the other man with contempt. "Oh. That's right. I still have some yen in my wallet." He slammed the crumpled paper down onto the desk, and tossed the wallet on top of it.

"Toshio… I don't think…"

"Do you want my car too? Oh. How about my apartment. And my girlfriend." He began rummaging through his pockets for the keyes.

"Toshio! Stop." There was a firmness in his voice; one that he wouldn't have expected from Tsubara. Had Seishin changed as well? "… I don't want any of this."

"Then, what do you want? Sex? You love guys, don't you?" He began to unfasten his belt.

"Toshio. Stop." He set the phone down. "I don't want you. Or your money."

He pulled his belt back on. "…Sorry."

The editor sighed. "…No. It's fine. The two of you were close, right?"

"… I think so." He ran a hand through his hair. "Though I'm not sure if that's true anymore… I mean… He didn't even…"

He nodded. "It's alright."

"I just… Want to talk to him again. I don't know why…"

The phone buzzed, and the editor attended to it. "I don't want to lose this number."

"I… I know. It's just…"

Regardless of his stated intent, he began scribbling a number down on a pad of paper. "He doesn't ever pick up."

"What?"

"Don't call him. Text him. And don't text him with anything longer than three sentences. He won't respond if you do."

He was handed a piece of paper with nine digits on it. He lives relatively nearby.

"I… Thanks." He hastily added an apology. "Sorry."

"Don't worry about it. Just don't tell him who you got it from, okay?"

"Will do."

He was about to get up to leave, when Tsubara signaled him back over. "… Are you going to leave your wallet here?"

"…Oh. Yeah." He hurriedly picked up his things and shoved them back into his pockets. "… Thanks."

"You already said that." He smiled and waved. "It was nice to see you again. It has been a while, Toshio."

"…Yeah. I think the last time was…"

"When you got married. I remember that. I sat next to Seishin." He gave the other man a nod. "How is the wife, by the way?"

"Dead."

"Oh. I'm sorry to hear that."

He had ended up being drawn back to the chair, to chat about entirely inconsequential things. Jobs, cars, houses and children. Apparently the editor was looking to adopt. He'd already moved in with the other man (which was supposedly the equivalent of marriage,) and they had both become estranged from their families.

The doctor had forgotten how pleasant it was to chat with another person. One who was not Yuki Shiomi. He had ended up discussing the "disease" with Tsubara. And his own preoccupation with the perpetrators of the disease.

Tsubara hadn't judged him. Instead, he'd responded with "Maybe we should go on a double-date sometime."

"I think I'd like that."

He'd settled back into his car, Seishin's number in his pocket, Seishin's book in the backseat. The city lights seemed to be brimming with energy. He sped past the signs advertising new apartments, new lives.

There was something about the situation that brought a burst of adrenaline to his middle aged limbs.

Seishin. His phone lay on the dashboard. He'd texted Seishin with a simple message: Hey. It's been a while. We need to talk. He hadn't signed it. But he'd had a feeling that the other man would know.

He parked and checked his phone once again. Still no response. Perhaps Tsubara was right. Perhaps the priest was gone.

Had Tsubara given him a fake number?

Was it Tsubara's number?

He shook his head and stumbled through the front door. Shiomi was sitting on the couch, phone in her hand. She dropped it, and ran to him.

He felt a pair of lips on his. He felt himself sinking into her. Stop. The phone fell out of his hands. The screen cracked.

He pulled away. "Sorry. Not in the mood." But he'd offered himself to Tsubara. What was wrong with him?

"Oh. Sorry, To-chan. I was just thinking…"

"I know." He brushed his palm against her cheek, and pulled her close with his free hand. Fidelity meant something to her, didn't it? "I… just… let's just sleep on the couch tonight."

She giggled. "Okay. Let's do that." She planted a kiss on his cheek. "I love you, To-chan."

"Yeah. Love you too." He was lying.

She had nestled on top of him; circling her hands around him.

He wasn't quite sure when he'd fallen asleep.

He was outside the second door in the hallway. Perhaps it would be more accurate to say that it was the only door. Had there been any other doors? Or had he dreamed them up as well? He'd slid it open.

The man with the white hair and olive eyes was behind the screen. A dark liquid was pooling underneath his wrist. He had grinned anyways. His hands were around the doctor's neck now, blood spilling down the medical coat.

I love you, you know?

The voice was strangely hollow. Where had he heard it before? He felt himself plunge into icy waters, the sea around him turning red.

He felt naked. When had his clothes come off?

A second pair of hands was holding him down. They were small, childlike.

They held him as the man with the olive eyes pressed himself against the doctor, nuzzling his chest as he did so. He felt the lips on his once more, sucking the air out of his mouth. Was he dying?

Believe in the things that I do.