But what exactly Yoshida was insinuating wasn't something he seemed eager to reveal. Instead, his major-domo mask went back on. Yoshida stepped forward. "Welcome to the Niijima Estate, Mr. Amamiya. I was eager to finally meet Lady Niijima's partner. I am Yoshida Torano-"

Yoshida froze midbow, stopping awkwardly bent over as he looked closely at Amamiya's face- then after a brief moment passed, he finished the bow. "Forgive me. Yoshida Toranosuke is my name. But… have we met before?"

Amamiya looked at Yoshida for a moment, as if searching his memory. "Not that I am aware of, Mr. Yoshida."

Makoto found herself suddenly curious. One of Yoshida's specialties was remembering people- a key skill for a butler, for him to sense some recognition in someone… could they have met before? Some time long ago? She suspected Amamiya was older than herself- and due to his heritage, he could be hundreds of years older even. But he could also be as old as he looked- which would be about her own age.

"Have you been to Tock-Yo before, Mr. Amamiya?" she asked.

He switched his attention back to her. "No. This is my first time in this city."

"Sorry, my mistake," said Yoshida, "My mind is getting older, you know" He let out a hospitable laugh. "But if you will excuse me, Lady Niijima. Mr. Amamiya. I need to attend to the festivities." He turned and leaned in towards Makoto. "The opening dance is soon, don't forget."

Social dread again welled through Makoto as Yoshida walked away. The opening dance! She'd forgotten. But this was a gala after all, and what was a gala without a band and dancing? A perfectly fine party, in her estimation- but everyone expected a bit of dancing before the buffet dinner became available. As hostess, and as the victor of the hour, it was her role to open the dance floor. It had always been Father before- or Sae a few times before Father didn't come back. But tonight, it had to be her. God!

"Is something wrong?" said Amamiya.

She turned back to find him looking at her intently from behind his spectacles. His usual placid face was there, his usual grey eyes- but the glass before them, it was almost like a mask. The stereotype of the bookish scholar, the quiet accountant- those types of folks who seemed to more often use spectacles for reading. All of that unconscious bias wrapped up in a simple wireframe and lenses. Such a small and simple thing that could change the world's perspective of a person, and the wearer was the same as they ever were underneath. A mask invisible to the person wearing it.

"Makoto?" he said.

She startled slightly from her internal wander, shivering at the sound of her first name wrapped in his voice. Oh. That's right. First names, now. She'd not seen Ren most of this week… she'd almost forgotten… had it really only been a week?

"Sorry. Y- yes. I'm fine, Ren. I just half-expected you wouldn't come."

His face momentarily came alive with amusement and a soft chuckle that was more a breath of air than anything. "I half-expected that myself. I was never a fan of galas growing up."

Makoto felt her heart lift slightly. Without thinking about it, she stepped forward towards him with a conspiratorial whisper. "Me either! So much nonsense to go through to entertain people I barely know."

Ren's mouth curled in a faint grin, which for him was practically beaming. Suddenly, Makoto realized two things: the first was that they were standing very close, their noses mere inches apart. She felt her cheeks heat up as she realized this was the closest she'd ever been to him. But that heat passed quickly as her curiosity churned away at the second thing: Ren just offered another bit of information about his past. Before Makoto could stop herself, she asked:

"Where did you grow up that you had to go to galas?"

Ren's face shut itself like a bank vault- returning to placid neutral and his eyes shifted away from hers, traveling the room.

"In my hometown," he said, taking a half-step back from her.

Another cryptic answer. The new space between them let in a rush of cooler air, and suddenly the room felt colder to Makoto than it had a few moments ago. Nice one, Makoto! You know he doesn't ever talk about that kind of stuff! Think of something else to say.

"Oh, I see... " Makoto said, "Umm…"

Dang it! This wasn't hard! Just ask him how he's been these last few days!

"So, Ren-"

The estate door opened again, letting in a gust of late spring air. It was the chief of daytime security on the estate, Mr. Dojima. He was helping the night guards, Caroline and Justine, with the increased needs of the gala tonight. They outranked him, so that meant he opened the door for the people they approved for entrance. And that approved person was Akechi Goro, dressed in a tightly cut tuxedo- silver-grey, rather than black.

Late and in non-traditional dress. Akechi always had to stand out. Unconsciously, Makoto took her own half-step back from Ren. She quickly put her social mask back on, smiling and bowing slightly as proper for the hostess of honor greeting a high-ranking guest.

"Mr. Akechi, I'm so pleased you could come," Makoto said, carefully holding her voice in a sincere tone. Akechi was another person she'd half-expected to be a no-show. But unlike with Ren, she'd actually hoped she was right. Akechi had thought her hopeless in finding the vampire of Shujin Academy- and her victory was practically him losing a mean-spirited bet against her. But Makoto didn't want to shove her victory in his face; The ideal reward would have been not seeing him at all.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world," said Akechi, his voice sounding perfectly genuine. But his brown eyes somehow managed to be even more dead than Ren's grey ones. "I've been eager to offer formal congratulations, and to admit I was wrong about your abilities."

"Is that so?" Makoto said before she could stop herself.

"It is," said Akechi as he stepped forward. He briefly glanced at Ren nearby, then he looked at Makoto's feet and then his eyes traveled up the length of her body. It made Makoto feel a little uneasy. Akechi smiled and towered slightly over her.

Why did he do that? Was he trying to impress her with his height? Was it to look down on her? Or did he just want her uncomfortable? Either way, this was her house, her party, and she wasn't stepping back. "Then, please. Join the guests," said Makoto, keeping her voice even. "I believe the-"

"Ms. Niijima," called Yoshida in a sort of whispered shout from the site of the atrium. "The band is ready to start the opening dance."

"Excellent! I'm not too late for the dance!" said Akechi, placing a cold hand on Makoto's bare shoulder and pushing firmly towards the dance floor and the waiting party. "Allow me to be your partner, Ms. Niijima."

Was he serious!? She stiffened her shoulder, forming an objection on her lips.

"Actually-" said Makoto, then but then Akechi just pushed on her shoulder slightly harder, pushing her forward and forcing her to take a step towards the waiting ballroom just to maintain her balance.

Then Ren was in front of them, stepping directly in front of Akechi so quickly that they almost collided. Akechi's plastered-on smile faltered as his face recoiled slightly from Amamiya's sudden proximity.

"Actually, she promised the first dance to me," said Ren.

Akechi laughed in Ren's face. "Sure thing, hafu. I'm sure she did. The daughter of a vampire hunter and a half-vampire opening a gala. How ridiculous can you get?"

Ren's eyes traveled to Makoto's, while Akechi continued to stare into Ren's slightly turned face. Ren had just blatantly lied and was looking to see what she would do. Realizing she was now on the spot, time began to slow for Makoto as her mind began racing. She hadn't promised him the dance, or any dance. And she hadn't thought about dancing or any man to dance with at all since just a few moments ago anyway!

And as much as Makoto disliked Akechi, he had a point. Makoto knew galas were all about optics: how would social politics regard herself and her family after this event? Opening the gala by dancing with Akechi Goro, the son and heir to one of the most preeminent families in the city… that would send an obvious signal to the entire city that the Niijima family still held influence and close in favor with Akechi "Shido" Masayoshi. But opening the gala by dancing with… Ren? A charitable person would think him a hafu vagrant vampire hunter overstaying his welcome. The vampire was dead, right? So why was he still here? Why was he dancing with a Niijima? And the gossip mill would start working overtime.

Were these the things that ran through Sae's mind? Through Yoshida's? Through Father's? These social calculations? Probably. But would they each respond in the same way? Makoto thought she knew what choice Sae would make, that's for sure. She would dance with Akechi and soak in the advantages that brought her. But what would Yoshida do? What would Father do?

Suddenly a flash of memory came to Makoto. She remembered talking with Yoshida in the library just two weeks past. Yoshida's tired, lined face said he'd seen Father turn an ally away from the doorstep because of optics. Because of social politics. And Yoshida had looked sad when he talked about it.

But did it matter what Father would have done? What Sae would do? What Yoshida would do? Hadn't she been the one to motivate the team to hunt the vampire down?! That was what this evening was about. Her decision. Her choice. Her… team. And Ren was an essential member of that team- perhaps more essential than even herself. Why the hell would she NOT dance with him? He literally stepped between her and death, and now he was standing between her and dancing with a man she didn't like. In the end, turning Ren down wasn't even an option.

"It's true," said Makoto, pushing Akechi's hand off her shoulder. "I'm dancing with Mr. Amamiya."

Now Akechi looked at her, his face incredulous. "Seriously? You're that stupid?"

Ren stepped forward and pushed Alechi back with his chest. Akechi's head snapped around in a sneer and he stepped back into Ren with his own chest. They stood tensely, tuxedo's touching, glaring down their noses at each other.

"Are you that stupid?" said Ren, "To insult the Lady host in her own home?"

"Are you stupid?" said Akechi, "Picking a fight with me? Do you know who I am in this city?"

"I just see a man without his sword."

"Yeah. And you're without your little knife."

"Think so?"

Makoto watched with wide eyes. They were practically fighting in her atrium. Over- over a dance? With her? Was this really happening?

"Gentlemen!" said Yoshida, beginning to walk across the room towards them. Meanwhile, the front door opened again to allow a tall, bald man into the house. He stepped in, his eyes fleshing briefly past Makoto to the two men bumping chests before her. His face tightened in frustration.

"What is the meaning of this!" the bald man said- his voice was powerful with authority. It filled the room without him even needing to shout.

Akechi winced back at the sound. Then he straightened and turned to face the newcomer with a posture of rigid attention. "Just a conversation amongst friends, father. Nothing of significance."

Makoto realized this bald man was Masayoshi Akechi himself. The man whom the citizens fondly called "Shido", though Makoto didn't remember why. She also didn't remember Shido being bald, but then, it had been many years since Masayoshi Akechi attended a party at the Niijima Estate.

Now he was looking at his son with disapproving disgust. "Is that so? Then why don't you run along and find yourself some fools to fawn over you. That's why you love parties, is it not?"

Akechi grimaced. That question was perfectly phrased to force him to accept the insult. "Yes. Father." And with one last glare at Ren, he stalked off into the ballroom, not looking in Makoto's direction.

Shido's face remained in a scowl as he watched Akechi walk towards the ballroom. But his expression softened as he looked at Makoto and bowed. "Lady Niijima, please let me apologize for my son. And to thank you for the invitation."

Makoto bowed in return. "It's quite alright," she said, offering the ritual response to such a statement.

Shido's eyes were brown like Akechi's, and they lingered on her. "My. When I last saw you, you were barely up to my waist, Ms. Niijima. Now, look at you! You've grown into a beautiful woman."

"Um- thank you," said Makoto. Shido was talking almost like a distant relative.

Shido turned towards Ren. "And you must be Vampire Hunter J? Congratulations on your successful hunt."

But he didn't bow.

Ren inclined his head slightly in response. "Thank you."

Shido and Ren stared at one another in awkward silence. Makoto realized she should say something- she was the hostess after all. She was supposed to ameliorate this sort of thing.

"Mr. Akechi!" said Yoshida, arriving on the scene and bowing deeply.

"Ah! Mr. Yoshida!" Shido's face offered a genuine smile. He returned the bow and then clapped Yoshida companionably on the shoulder. "It's been too long. Far too long! You keep yourself cooped up in this house! Why don't we see you at parties?"

"Ah, well, the invitations don't come as often as they used to" said Yoshida as he turned Shido towards the ballroom. Yoshida looked back and flashed his eyes at Makoto: It's time for the opening dance!

Makoto could hear the band doing their last-minute fine-tuning. A hush was developing in the ballroom next door. Meanwhile, she was alone in the atrium with Amamiya Ren. He was looking towards the ballroom, too. Was it Makoto's imagination, or was a little of the dread she was feeling also visible on his face?

Then, he looked at her, his face neutral. He held out his hand towards her. "May I have the dance?"

Makoto felt her chest flutter a little. She placed her hand in his. His skin was surprisingly warm. Ren's other arm swept out, indicating they should proceed. They walked quietly, hand in hand, and entered the Niijima's estate ballroom. It was a moderately sized room, as ballrooms went, and the hundred or so guests were crowded around the edges of the dance floor. Makoto had seen plenty of bigger ballrooms at some of the other estates of Tock-Yo's elite. But this was hers, and she lifted her chin and put on a small smile (a confident-looking one, she hoped!) as Ren led her to the center of the room- and the center of attention.

A soft murmur rose up in the room. Makoto assumed it was everyone speculating on who her dance partner was. Due to his late arrival, Ren had not been formally introduced like everyone else. And the mystery of it would fuel the fire of the gossip. Oh, well. Nothing to be done about it now.

The band started up. A graceful, elegant tune. Ren stepped in towards her, his free hand coming to rest just under and behind her left shoulder, his warm touch there causing another flutter in her chest. She rested her free arm atop his (it was like steel!). She looked up into his face. He was watching her, his expression neutral. Then he raised his eyebrows ever so slightly. Ready? Makoto sucked in a deep breath and squeezed his right hand slightly. Ready.

Ren waited for a brief moment, holding for the tempo, and then with a slight signal in his leading arm, led them around in the basic looping pattern any high-society child is taught from a young age. The room and the watching audience became a slowly spinning blur as they rotated, Makoto keeping her face resolutely facing her partner, as was currently fashionable; Yoshida's coaching voice in the back of her mind.

Ren wasn't looking at her. Instead, his eyes focused out ahead of their path. Off into space. It wasn't the fashion, but he wouldn't know current fashion in Tock-Yo. Regardless, the man looking away was old traditional dance- and like in so many things, men could do it the way they wanted and no one would comment. But if a woman did something out of fashion? Oh, the gossip.

It gave her time to examine the side of his face. The sharp edge of his jawline, leading to a sharper chin. She'd seen this side of him a lot. When he looked away from her. Like he always did when she asked about his past. Where was he from? How could he fit into society so well, yet prefer the wilds? And why is he pushing on my shoulder?

Oh! He's trying to lead! He knows how to dance!

The sudden realization opened the door of Makoto's childhood training. Ren pushed on her shoulder as they turned, she spun, his hand slid along her back causing her to shiver as she settled back into his arms, move complete. He turned to look at her now. Smiled that small smile. Then looked away and Makoto felt her leading arm receive a small tug. Another signal. He didn't pull her along as some men did, merely gave the signal and waited for her to respond. So she twisted away from his embrace, as the signal requested. Makoto felt her long-slit dress flare around her as she spun. Ren's eyes met hers as she stopped, and her chest fluttered again as he spun into her- transforming the usual female return into a male spinning follow. Makoto stifled her own giggling as he settled into her arms again. Appreciative amusement rumbled out of the crowd, presumably from the knowledgeable dancers among the guests.

Not only could he dance! He could tell jokes in dance! Questions swirled in Makoto's mind as they twirled around the ballroom, Ren leading her smoothly through the song. Just who was Amamiya Ren?

A change in music, a murmuring of voices and the movement of feet. The interlude had come, and now all those guests who would dance joined Makoto and Ren on the dance floor. The music began again, and the previous silence was broken by the general murmur of a large party kicking off into real action.

"Ren," said Makoto as they moved tamely now amongst the crowded dance floor- there was no longer room for fancy moves.

He looked at her with his neutral gaze.

"You can dance," said Makoto, her voice slightly incredulous.

"So can you. So?" Ren's face remained neutral, but Makoto sensed he was slightly offended. He sniffed suddenly, nostrils flaring.

"Oh." Makoto looked away from him as they continued their steady circle around the room. Point taken. Why shouldn't he be able to dance in a ballroom?

Oh, I don't know. Maybe because he made his living traveling the world alone, killing vampires. Where did ballroom dancing lessons come in? And there was the whole half-human, half-vampire, social outcast thing to consider. Who taught Ren how to dance? And why? Just more questions along the lines of the others Makoto had asked and Ren refused to answer. Where did you get that armor? Those weapons? That horse? Where? Where? Where?

Elsewhere. Is what Ren would say. Makoto heard Ren sniff again. Had she bothered him that much?

Should she apologize for her surprise at his dancing ability? Could she ask where he learned to dance? Makoto looked back at Ren, doubtful that was a question he would answer. But he was looking above her head and behind her. His eyes intently focused and following some moving thing. His body was tense. His grip suddenly tight on her hand.

"What is it?" she asked.

But he stopped in his tracks, letting Makoto continue past with her momentum, then he shoved her slightly aside. Before she could object, she saw Ren reach into his tuxedo coat and pull out his long knife, the grey metal shimmering in the bright, chandelier-lit ballroom.

"What-?!"

Ren took two long strides past Makoto, grabbed another dancing man by the shoulder and spun him around. It was a surprised and angry-looking man: balding, black-haired, narrow-nosed. A normal looking man as far as Makoto could tell.

Ren thrust his knife into the man's chest.

"Urk-" said the stabbed man, hands scrabbling desperately to swat away Ren's arms.

The woman he was dancing with saw the blood and screamed. Heads snapped around to see what was going on.

"Ren!" shouted Makoto.

But Ren pushed the knife in deeper, and the man screeched- screeched with a startling, alien pitch. Makoto was immediately reminded of the three vamp-slaves outside the school not so long ago. And then the man's face transformed into a fanged, leathery, monstrous thing.

And then everyone screamed.