Ren walked quickly to the Niijima stables where he'd left his horse. It waited for him in the darkness with the eternally still patience of machines, but it began emitting muted whirring and humming as he approached. The owner's totem in Ren's belt was waking the mechanical beast and preparing it for use.

*So… so!...* said Morgana, breaking his long silence. *That was an interesting evening!*

'Oh, shut up.'

*That Niijima girl is into you, you realize? Did you hear her heartbeat when she was against that wall?*

'How could I not?'

*And her scent! She was a peach tree in bloom, wafting pollen in hopes of birds and bees!*

Ren's mind filled with the wheedling laughter of Morgana as he mounted up and set off towards the estate gates. Normally, the symbiote's eavesdropping on Ren's life was an unwelcome side-effect of their link; but this time, strangely, he actually felt a bit happier in the creature's observation; It wasn't just him thinking it: Niijima Makoto seemed interested in him. As a man.

But was she aware of her own interest? Was her conscious self congruent with the signals her body was giving off? That was decidedly unclear.

Ren knew what it was like to have his body fill with undesired urges, to attempt rebellion against his own mind with a myriad of devious needs and emotions. Certainly, that was not a situation he alone faced. Makoto might be experiencing a similar rebellion, and the physiological signals her body was producing could simply be the side-effects of her own body's attack against her mind. After all, he was a wandering half-blood seventh-son, and she a second-daughter sure to seek financial and political union. There was no logical reason for them to-

To- to… do what females and males do. He had a vague idea of what they did- he'd read a few of his younger, elder sister's romance books. Some of them were quite… intriguing. But was real life like that?

Maybe Morgana had witnessed a few romantic relationships and trysts while joined with a previous host. Maybe he could ask him about-

No! No need. Ren had no specific reason to believe Makoto was interested in following up on her own body's signals. Or, if she were even really aware of them. Or, perhaps it was all just a side-effect of the sword training and he and Morgana were just reading too much into it all.

Ren's mind recalled Makoto's face, as they'd been pressed against the padded wall. Her crimson eyes with such an intense, concentrated gaze upon him. Her lips curved in a sort of mischievous victory. Her cheeks slightly rosy from hot blood just under smooth skin. He'd suddenly been very, very interested in what those lips would have felt like. Tasted like.

"Hey, you! Vagrant!" said an angsty female voice.

Ren emerged from his daydream and found himself near the front gate. Two diminutive women in blue uniforms were barring his path, rifles in hand, but not quite pointing them at him. They both shared the same blondish hair and eyes, though one looked angry and the other serene.

"We know what you are," said the angry one, the obvious source of the angsty voice. "So know we're keeping our eyes on you!"

"We won't hesitate to use lethal force," said the serene one.

Zealous security eager to establish their authority to a dhampir. Ren had seen it plenty of times before. He was unimpressed.

"Just open the gate."

The angry sister scowled at him, but looked at her sister and nodded. They shouldered their rifles and opened the gate. Ren passed through their intense scrutiny, and then the Niijima gate slammed closed behind him. He looked back towards the house, then to the two guards now behind the iron bars of the fence. The angry one was still glaring at him. The serene one stared placidly- then she used a finger to pull down the bottom lid of one eye and stuck her tongue out.

Ren turned away from the house and the guards. A dark expanse of the city was visible out and below, as the Niijima Estate sat on a broad rise over the surrounding landscape. The dim light of thousands of gas lamps flickered like a valley of fireflies before him. He kicked his horse into trot. He had a ways to go to get to Cafe Leblanc, and it was about time for him to eat. Ren realized he'd forgotten his minor hunger for a while. That was a rare event. What with the sword training, the tour, and his attention upon Makoto- he'd stopped feeling it. And in retrospect, pressed against that dojo wall, he'd not felt hunger for her at all.

Well- not in the way he'd ever felt hunger before, anyway. It was something a bit different, he had to admit.

Ren's mind danced backwards to the rest of the meeting, and suddenly settled back upon the Niijima family portrait. He again saw the stern, mustached face of Niijima's Father. Ren recalled the sudden shock of recognition he'd felt. He'd stumbled into the back of the couch! It's the intruder, he'd thought at first. The man he'd confronted all those years ago in the castle's underbelly.

But no, he'd decided. It couldn't be the same man. And as Ren re-examined his recent memory and compared it with his much older one; he took comfort in agreeing with his earlier judgement: The man in the painting wasn't that man. They certainly looked similar, but it could only be a coincidence. There was simply no way it could possibly be him.