He can't breathe. There is no air to breathe, but there is nothing to stop him from breathing. He simply cannot breathe.
It blanketed him in invisible strands, tying his limbs to nothing. He does not feel a thing.
He can't see. There is no light to see; light did not exist here. It is Darkness. An Ancient Darkness.
T̸̴̵̴̵̙̼͍̥̠̥̗͚̝̊ͧ̄͑͂̎͢͝ͅḨ͚̺̩̤̪̖̗̌̒̂͟͢͝͠I̥̭̊ͨ̑S̤̪͙̟̰͙͈̯͂͆͑ͨ͜͏ ̷̸̶̺̞̥̙͖͆͒͘̕͢͠͠͝Į̛̺̠̜̥̔͐̑͘͘͢͜͡͡S̵̴̨̢̡̡̜̞͙̻ͬ̓̕͜ ̤̻͈̖͇̥͓̇ͥͦ͞N̸̷̴̢͆́́͜͠͞O͎̥̼͎̪̹̐̽́͢͠ͅT̫͚̗̙̬̗ͧ̄ ̵̢̫͎͍ͥ̄͒͑̇́̚͠W̵̷̨̞̲̹̮̣̮̄̑H̶͈͈͓̓̐ͫ̊̿̕͝͏͡Ȩ̵̶̛̛̪ͩͬ̊͌̓́͜R̴̸̨̨̨͔̦͇̖͚̝̓͑͜͜Ȩ̶̶̣̹̱͓͍͙̩ͥ̀͟͞ͅ ̟͈͚̈́̋ͮ͆͐ͮ͞Y̸̨̡̼̜̪͎̊͌͞͝O̧̡͔̠̾̓́͘̕̕͟͞Ù̶̴̥̳̯̤͓ ̷̶̢̢̪͐̄̇ͮ̚͢͜͞S̘̹̮̹͓̞̪͜H̡̜̳ͦ̂͐ͬ͋Ô̺̤͇̰̐ͧ̚Ū̠̘̪̱̠͖̠͙̿̓͑L̥͞D̢̧̥̟̯̹̀̀́̉̕͠͏̷ ̣̗͎̰̋ͣ̈̚̕ͅͅ͏̵B͕͎̼̽͋͘͟Ḛ͙͇̺̜ͨͪ
Blood streams down his cheeks and falls out of his ears. His lungs fill with blood and spill past his lips, dripping down his body like an anointment.
H̸͈͓͚̪͖ͨ͏̸́͝E̔̉̄̋ ̢̺̩̫͈̼̹̈́ͤͤ̿́ͅȘ̸͒̒̽̽͗͞Ḩ͇̖̰́̓̈̈́͐̓̀͢O̴̴̥̜͕̹͋ͬ̎ͧ͟Ư̷̵̑̿̀̕͠L̩̩͇͖̠̓ͤ͏̧̨̢͏̸́́D̡ͪ͟͡ ̶̞͉̘̻̻͎́̑ͦ͑̽̈͜͝N̛̜̠͚̰͕̖͕̦̭ͯ̃͗ͪ̀͞ͅṎ̴̷̡̖͎̝̞̭̗̻ͮ̆́́̀͢͠Ţ̸̷̷̺̯͇̕͝͝ ̴̡̧͍̖̤̞̥̯̥̞̃͂͠Ḅ̶͎͉̫̲̱̗̋͑̓́͘̕E̷̷̷̢̡͎͖̗̻̿̕͢ ̶̡̺͕̪͖͎ͯ͟͢͝͏Ẁ̱͕̱̩̙͍͔͚̀ͅ͏̨̡̛̕͠H̷̸̢̢̛͕͈͖̤̮̣̠̭̜ͣ̀͘Ë̹̥͓̣̣̰̗́ͫͣͦR̵̴̡̮͎͍̺͉ͨ̚̚͏̷Ȩ̴̮͇̉͘̕͜͡͏ ̵̛͙͉̭̺̰̼͙̠̰̪ͫ̆̉ͥỶ̵̢̲̗̺̱̲̯͎̤̹̥̍̌̎ͩ͟Ǒ̡̧̚͟͡Ǘ̷̜̲̤͉͆̌̅̕̕̕͟͜͟͡͝ͅ ̸̸̤̗̘̣̘̹̾̇ͨ͗͞W̵̶̵͔̜͔̦̦̬̠̌̆͗̓́͟͟͝͠Ę͚̺̩̞͉͖̲ͤ́̀̀͘̕R̈́̂ͣ͌͞Ȩ̖̠̹͍͖͕̺ͥ̑̓͂̔ͬ͠͞
It keeps him from moving. It keeps him from living, for It is an end. It is The Ending of Ends.
.
HǑ̵͇̝̮͙̔̕͘͠͏̵̀͠W̠̩̙̞̝̰͍̄͐̇̓ͣ͂́̚ ̷̡̧̬͓͆̈̐̀ͤͯ̈́̌́̕͝A͍̟̫̔̒̋ͯͨ̃M̫̹͎͉͓̻̟͝U̢̲̇́́͢͟͜͡S͔̭͙͜͠I͔̲͙͉̱͎͉ͯ̌ͨ̾͗̈́Ṇ̴̶̵̢̧̗̰̟̼͋͑ͥ̍̀̕͡͏͜G̷̷̡̧̡̛͉̫̫͐ͬͥͨͬ̿͗̿̀͢͞.̵̟̲̻̯̬̺͖̪̕̕ ̷̶̏͐I̴͍͕̬̔ͤ̄̆̍͂͘̕T̷̷̡̢̧̛̼̰͙̜̺ͬͧ̎̀͜͠ ̶̵̧̧̜ͦ̉̇ͭ̈́́͜͝͏̨͟͟D̷̶̘͎̜͆̏͌ͪ̀ͧ́́͡Ǫ͖̪̙̗͕̈̓͑̌ͪ̈ͥ̊͡È̜̝̗̬̤S̸̸̸̷̛͇̝̱̒ͪ̄ͩ͞͡ ̴̨̧̡̬̜̩͍̏̃͌̚͠Ņ̶̗͑ͤͮ͌́̕͝O͚̱̙͓̞̬̹̺͐̋̀̿T̴̵̈́ͩ̿ͧ́͊́͜͢͠͡͠ ̴̢̱̪̘͇̀͢F̸̴̷̧̡͚̳̃ͮ̎͘̕͠A̠͚͂͒̍ͬ̽͐ͪ̓ͧZ̰̥̞̦ͬ̌͑̓ͥ̚E̵̞̰̦̜̰̟͕͗̿̔̓̃͌̆̈́̏̍͜͏ ̸̶̷̳̪͎̖͙͚̟̅̆̊̉ͧ̈͞͝Y͇ͨ͆̎̒̀ͮ̾́̾͊͜͜͠͠O̹͎̩ͨ̒̾Ū̷̵̵̶̵̸̴̧́̀̚͜.̴̵̫̮̟̲̬͙̿̕̕
Darkness smothers him. He falls.
W̵̶̱͕̣̳͙̽̔̑́͑̂̿̎͘A̟̻͔̟̞̫͓ͭ͊̋Į̨͙̟̙ͦ̅̐͒ͯ̉̓͛̕͜͟͡T̴͛̋̎ͬ̆́́̕̕͢͟͡ ̡̧ͫͣ͛ͯ̌̀́͘͡͏̀F̸̢͇̬̩͇̱̣͂ͦ̑͂́̀͜͝͞͝ͅÔ͙̪̾ͬŖ̸̴͎̯̝̄̽̓͞ ̨̟̘M͍͎͖͔ͫͦ̊̇̿̍̃͌́̀͡͝Yͮ̋͊ͭ̑͛ͮ̾̾̉ ̷̥̂̌̚͟Ē̖̱̟͇͉ͤͬ̀̒ͪM̨̩̰̥̞ͧ̆̐͂ͫ̆͑̂ͣ́̕̕͜͟͟͡ͅB̵̛͚̱͔̬̮̀̉ͨ̚͞͡R̢̻̝̬̍̊̐̐ͣͮ̌ͪ̀̑͏̢̛A̶̸̴͉̞̞̻ͮ̀͘͢͢͞͝Ç̶̸̢̧̗̦̲̬͆͐̓͊̒̉̚̕͞͡Ȩ̴̺̦̹̬͚̩͚̻ͫ̏̃ͨ͗̐̅ͫ͢͝,̵̴̡̨̛͖̳̝͓̺̰̘ͮͤ̿ͥ̾̕͟͞͝͝ ̴̸̶̡̡̟͂͑͊̃ͩ͂̽͘͠͏̕͢D̷̡̨̝̖̭͐̂̏͐͊̌ͬ́͐̿͠E̶͚̦͎̪̼̼̪͎̓ͦ͋͆̈̕Ā̛̭͍̣̞͇̦̱̥̈̍̐̽̅͋̑ͯ͒͞͠R̸̨̨̨̡̫̳̼͕̤͚̐̊̊̒̓̀̇̇͋̋́͘͢͡ͅ ̢̀͝͝͏C̨̖̈́̈́ͩ̂ͤͪ̚͠͏H̡̬̹̩̏̅͆ͫ̋̕͝Į̶̡̛̭̙̫̙̪̅̽̑ͣ̉͆̅̆͠͝L͟͢D̛͎̯͇͙ͬ̈̄̉ͣ̕͘͡͏.̡̠̩͖̫̱̲̉̋̒̌͘
CRAAACK—BOOOM!!
Stark light flashes through the darkness and burns behind his eyelids. Ichigo snaps his eyes open with a wrenching gasp.
Thunder continues to shake the foundation of his home, but he does not notice. Ichigo turns onto his side as his lungs begin to function like normal. His muscles are tense and his fingernails are clawed into the wooden floor, cracking and tearing off of his nail beds.
BOOOM!
Light burns through the darkness of the house, making Ichigo clench his eyes shut. He presses his forehead against the soft fur blankets he laid across the floor and tries to get his wheezing breaths under control.
The storm has hit.
His lungs ache as he begins to breathe normally and there's a pounding in his head from the lack of air. He hadn't been breathing. That dream—
Ichigo opens his eyes before lifting his forehead. His shoulders twitch when a blanket sticks to his face for a moment before its weight makes it peel off. He brings a hand to his face, only for it to twitch back.
His cheeks are warm and wet. He stares down at his fingers, watching a dark liquid drip off of his uninjured fingertips and land on the fur blankets. Ichigo blinks once before lightning burns through the darkness of the den.
Bright red sears against his crying eyes. Time stalls around him; sound, light, the air stalls. He's crying blood.
Ichigo continues to stare at the crimson liquid before he rubs his thumb against his fingers to make sure it really is what he sees. It is blood.
BOO—BOOOM!
Ichigo lowers his hand before glancing up when lightning burns through his eyes once more. Dilated pupils stare through the stained glass, watching the spastic lightning lighten the design on the window. The soulless black eyes of the gold skull stare back, waiting for Ichigo's reaction.
Was the dream a dream? Was it a message? Or, is it a meeting?
"Mother, what should I do?" Ichigo's lips part open and a frosty breath escapes his mouth. Ichigo brings a hand up to his eyes and wipes away the blood before he raises himself up to sit on his legs.
He is completely silent as he slowly stands. He glides across the ground like a wisp, the bottom hem of his linen pants dragging behind his heels. On top of a cupboard, next to the stairs leading up to the second floor, is a plate used as a candleholder, glowing dimly beneath the cold flames.
Ichigo's trembling hands, bleeding from the broken and torn fingernails, grabs the plate. He embraces the sharp pains, keeping him grounded to where he was; home.
The storm calms to a torrential cry instead of a screeching wail as Ichigo slowly walks up the stairs.
If the dream is a dream, he shouldn't worry. If it's a message, he will make the trek earlier than planned. If it was a meeting... he must remember every detail he can.
"Mother, what should I do?" Ichigo asks again. No one answers, but he doesn't expect one. He only wishes to figure out what he has seen and what it means.
He reaches the second floor and immediately turns to walk alongside the railing. He doesn't pause when the lightning blinds the first floor and the thunder shakes the house. He simply continues on to start walking up to the third floor.
The wood doesn't creak; the house is much too young to start aging from weathering. Ichigo stops before the large hallway of the third floor.
BA-DUM. BA-DUM. BA-DUM. BA-DUM.
Karin's heartbeat is strong and fast. She is sleeping, but the storm makes her restless. Or maybe the—
BA-DUM... BA-DUM. BA-DUM... BA-DUM.
Yuzu's heart beats slower and much more calmer. But, she is worried, and stressed.
...BA...DUM...BA...DUM...BA...DUM...
The man. His heartbeat is still deathly slow and eerily calm.
Ichigo breathes in deeply, breathing in the three heartbeats he can hear like they were in his own ears. He slowly forces his shoulders to relax and opens his eyes. The cold candlelight makes the Darkness around him reach out in tendrils, wishing to grab him and pull him back to where he once was.
Ichigo walks forward, ignoring the urge to reach out for the Darkness. He stops before the first door on the left and quietly opens the door. Karin's and Yuzu's heartbeats become louder to their brother once he steps into their room.
The Darkness is chased away by the flickering light and it gives Ichigo just enough to see his sisters. Yuzu laid astray over her fur blankets, pillows surrounding her like the walls of a nest. Karin was curled tightly in a ball beneath the many fur blankets she made herself or she stole from Ichigo.
Safe. From the storm and from—
Ichigo steps back, closing the door without making a sound. He stares at the wood grain for a long moment. He doesn't listen to what his instincts scream at him to do and turns away.
He should go back to bed. Dress his injured fingers, clean up the blood, and go back to bed. With how horrible this storm is, he will have a lot to clean up and most likely will need to repair quite a few things. He should really go back to bed.
So, why is he walking towards his bedroom where the strange man is resting?
Ichigo breathes out through his nose and stops before his bedroom door. He watches his own shadow morph into a beast of its own from the candlelight; a skull with empty eyes.
Ichigo feels ice pierce along his entire spine. He blinks slowly and reaches a hand out, unafraid despite his trembling fingers and his hammering heart.
The shadow disappears back into a silhouette and the door opens without a sound. Ichigo steps inside.
The candlelight does not illuminate anything past the partially opened door. Ichigo's fingers clench around the ceramic plate he holds, forcing blood to well up and fall down his wrist.
If he enters the Darkness, he may not return. Tonight is not a night to mess with the terrific.
Ichigo glides across the room with graceful steps. The light keeps him within its barrier, but it will not protect him. His conscience knows before he realizes.
His gold eyes shine above the weakened candlelight, watching as a still figure, lying in his bed, enters the light's shroud. He watches himself rather than feel himself stop before the bed before sitting down.
Ichigo stares at the porcelain face which caused him to bring this stranger home. He watches frosty breaths leave pale lips, nearly stalled completely, yet so calm when shrouded by this Darkness.
"Mother, is this what I should do?" Ichigo is almost breathless in his awed delirium. He leans forward, somewhat carelessly placing his only source of light on the bed rather than the end table.
His hair falls off of his shoulders and pools below him as he nearly hovers over the strange man he saved. He tilts his head while he traces the sharp chin and the smooth jaw with his eyes. Teeth protrudes from thin lips, sharper than needles, yet alluring in his deadliness.
Ichigo's hand twitches, wishing to brush back the pale blonde hair and open the man's eyes. He knows they are silver, as beautiful as Nirn's two moons, and yet when he ran in after hearing the man fall... they were glowing red like spilled blood against ivory.
A beast—a monster, like his sisters, and like him. But, he is not a werewolf.
He does not smell of the wild nor does he smell of beasts. His heartbeat does not crave the flesh of hearts nor the protective light of the moon. His skin is too smooth and his teeth are too thin.
He smells of death and blood. His heartbeat craves the blood and flesh of humans and sings for the embrace of the night.
The smell of death, the exposed skin charred, the glowing red eyes, the alluring beauty.
"...vampire..." Ichigo breathes out with wide eyes.
Lightning illuminates the entire room, and banishes the Darkness. The thunder shakes the house so badly, a window cracks right through the middle of the skull design. There is no more thunder for the rest of the night.
The first rays of sunlight gently peek over the craggy cliffs of the Druadach Mountains. It weaves through the gray stone and dead fog, piercing through the cracks and enlightening the cold earth hidden beneath. The sun starts to peak over the horizon when its rays reach the partially hidden homestead of the Kurosaki family.
Slitted caramel eyes slowly open before the sunlight, stained red from the stained glass, reaches them. The pupils dilate before turning into sharper slits when the red sunlight hits them directly.
Ichigo stares at the large crack through the middle of the stained glass. He slowly blinks before he sits up from the nest of fur blankets. He brings a hand up to his face, slightly pink bandages wrapped securely around his fingertips, and touches his cheek. His hand lowers and he stares at the clear bandages. No fresh blood.
"So, not a dream." Ichigo rubs his thumb against his finger and feels the bandages drag against each other. He glances back up at the cracked window and stares into the soulless black eyes of the skull for a long moment. He turns his head and gets up from his temporary bed.
It's morning, and the storm has passed. He has much to do before his sisters wake up. He is quick to fold all of the fur blankets and set them aside, knowing Karin will probably go out and hunt once more, before he makes his way to the kitchen.
He'll start the fire before he goes to grab the water for the stew and the meat—Ichigo stops right before the fire pit inside the kitchen. He blinks before tilting his head up.
"Vampire..." Ichigo mutters out loud. That's right; food won't provide sustenance for the strange man. Blood will, and possibly human flesh.
Ichigo frowns before he crouches down to start the fire.
He cannot spare any of his animals. Winter will be coming soon and it would take months forDushnikh Yal to find a suitable replacement for Ichigo, and to safely bring it up to the homestead would be an entire ordeal when it's already in the middle of winter. He can always tell Karin to bring back a wolf or a goat alive for the man, but would it give him enough sustenance until he can leave? The only other option, where the man would for sure get enough sustenance, would be—well... he'd have to let the man drink his blood.
Ichigo's face feels like it's burning itself off. He scowls and turns away from the fire pit, blaming his heated face on being so close when he started the fire. He stands up and briskly walks away.
He needs to start on breakfast first. He'll worry about... this later.
Alarm and frustration buzzed beneath his cold skin, wanting to escape, but trapped within his unconscious body. The world came in and out of his senses as he traveled in and out of consciousness.
Dark, cold; he heard thunder and felt lightning blind his closed eyes. Warm, a soft light and a soft touch to his right; there was a whisper above him. Cold and dark again, with no lightning to blind him or thunder to deafen him; something was watching him though. Something otherworldly, and highly amused. It made his skin crawl.
He can barely stay conscious enough to gather his bearings before he is already asleep once more, but he is completely aware of what's happening around him. It's making him a little bit crazy, because he cannot tell how much time has passed. Has a day passed? A mere few hours? A week?
He is in a void of muddled senses and feverish dazes. Whatever he has been stabbed with is quickly becoming his most despised thing in existence. He would very much prefer an Oblivion Gate over this and those were the closest thing to killing him in just over two centuries.
The sound of a door opening pierces through the humming silence slowly bringing Kisuke to madness. Kisuke feels his fingers twitch as he tries with all of his might to bring himself to the waking world.
There are quiet footsteps getting closer before something glass or ceramic is set down. Kisuke scrunches his face and slowly opens his eyes, glancing between the hazy spots in his sight.
A rustle of fabric is heard before a blurry head of orange enters Kisuke's vision. He starts to mentally curse whatever illness he has. How he wishes to see the man's face again.
The young man seems to pause when he notices Kisuke awake before he sits on the edge of the bed. "Good morning. I'm glad you've survived the night, stranger."
"'m glad to see you again," Kisuke hums through a dry throat before he devolves into a coughing fit. He clenches his eyes shut from the pain and curls onto his side, his coughs turning wet. There's another rustle of fabric before a warm hand carefully grabs his shoulder.
"Drink slowly. I would rather not clean up your vomit from my bed," The man speaks quietly before something cold is pressed against Kisuke's dry lips. A cool liquid touches them before Kisuke instinctively opens his mouth and crisp water spills into his mouth. He can't help, but take greedy gulps until the cup is abruptly pulled away with a small hiss.
"I said slowly!" The man scolds before he leans towards the end table to set the cup down. Kisuke will forever deny the whine that leaves his throat.
"I can't help it. Not when such a beauty is helping me," Kisuke speaks without much thought. He blinks slowly and ignores the burning sensation in his chest. Ah. It seems this illness is affecting his filter. Hm... hopefully he hasn't spoken too much nonsense while this man takes care of him.
The man takes in a sharp breath, keeping his head turned away from Kisuke, but the pale blonde can spot a bright red flush crawling up his neck through his blurry vision. The young man silently grabs another item from the end table, this time a ceramic bowl. Ah, likely some soup. How unfortunate that normal food can't sustain Kisuke. This would have been a prime opportunity for the beauty who saved him to spoon-feed him.
"Can—can you sit up by yourself?" The orange-haired man asks, pretending he didn't hear anything. Kisuke blinks slowly before he presses a hand against the bed. Kisuke grunts at how weak his arm feels, but manages to sit himself up, the dizziness not mentioned.
"You haven't eaten in days, and while I'm sure eating is the last thing on your mind, if you're going to survive this illness, I don't want you dead from starvation," He continues, reaching over to grab Kisuke by the shoulder in case he fell back against the bed.
Kisuke hums and tilts his head up, smiling with all his teeth. "I do apologize, but I can't exactly eat... normal food. Though, you shouldn't worry your beautiful little head about me. I won't starve to death."
The orange-haired man huffs out a laugh before he holds up the bowl towards Kisuke. Kisuke feels himself freeze as the scent of fresh blood fills and soaks into his nostrils.
"I know," The man leans closer with a hidden smile. "Now, if you can't drink it all, please tell me. I'm serious about not wanting to clean any vomit off of my bed."
Kisuke stares at him with a blank look. He knows? What did he—how does he—
The young man holds the bowl closer and Kisuke's eyes flutter close. It smelled fresh and wild, like the dense forests of Falkreath. It smelled just like the young man. It was his blood. He is giving him his own blood to feast on.
"You are absolutely fascinating," Kisuke breathes out, opening his eyes to gaze up at the man with glowing red eyes. He continues to stare as he presses his lips against the edge of the bowl and drinks.
His sight gets clearer with every gulp and the young man's beauty gets that much more alluring.
The wild; feral and smelling of juniper berries. Brimstone and heat encompasses his tongue like the volcanic springs of Eastmarch; fresh and sharp like the deathly snow. The strangest, yet most wondrous flavor Kisuke has ever tasted from blood. Not only that—he is a werewolf. No wonder he knows Kisuke is a vampire. He can smell it.
The young man tries to pull back the bowl, but Kisuke grabs his hand and pulls it closer, finally closing his eyes as his hunger is satiated. There is a sigh before the young man uses his other hand to loosen Kisuke's grip.
"I feel like you're purposely ignoring what I say," The young man states, pulling back the bowl. Kisuke tries to follow the blood, but the orange-haired beauty stops him with a click of his tongue and a hand against his shoulder. "You are ill, stranger. Don't make it worse."
"...Kisuke. My name is Kisuke," The vampire hums, glancing up through his pale eyelashes with a hazy smile. Blood dripped off the side of his mouth and stained his teeth as the fangs retreated back into his gums to appear almost human-like.
The orange-haired man blinks slowly, his ears slowly turning a bright pink, before he rolls his eyes and turns towards the end table. "Yes, well. That still makes you a stranger to me."
Kisuke hums again and leans forward, almost completely on his stomach. He tilts his head to try and peek at the obvious blush across freckled cheeks.
"We won't be strangers if you tell me your name... you saved me after all. Can't I know the name of my beautiful savior?" Kisuke speaks slowly, leaning heavily on his natural allure just to see the man's blush cover his entire face in a strawberry red.
The man scoffs and gives Kisuke a knowing glare before he abruptly stands up from the bed. Kisuke falls onto his stomach with a huff before he snaps his head up. The young man grabs the bowl, not touching the cup of water, and stares down at the pale blonde.
"You may have survived the night, but your illness is severe. When your fever breaks, I will tell you my name, stranger. When it breaks. Call me if you need anything." The young man doesn't spare him another glance and turns to leave the bedroom.
Kisuke watches the man leave before he lays his head against the pillow. He really is fascinating.
Whispers of wildlife sing through the dense forests of pine. The high noon sun shines down, failing to pierce through the competing and greedy foliage to reach the smothered earth below. Forgotten secrets are kept nestled in the dark shadows, another day passing without them revealed.
The gray stone, faded and weather worn, of the only road in and out of Falkreath shines in the direct sunlight, the only thing partially seen from above. Down an off-beaten path from the road, hidden by a grove of trees sat a pond filled with water as black as night. Nestled inside the boulders next to the pond stood a Black Door etched with death, breathing deeply in a hissed breath with a calm heartbeat.
There is a rustle through the pine trees. A figure, dressed in all-black, peeks through the pine needles. Their gold eyes glitter in the partial shade and their long, pointed ears twitch, the only things seen through the black scarf covering their head and mouth. Their thin pupils turn to slits before their eyes narrow.
They growl behind their mask before they leap off of the high branch they perched themselves on. Their feet land on the ground with barely a whisper of sound, landing on their toes first before they rest their entire foot. They walk towards the Black Door, hissing out a small curse.
"What is the music of life?" The voice is deep and gravelly, a whisper spoken through pain and death.
The person reaches up and pulls off their mask scarf, revealing dark skin, black hair tinted a dark purple, and dark purple stripes across high cheekbones and a sharp jaw. The woman's ears flick in her annoyance, hissing out one more curse.
"Silence, my brother," She answers tightly.
"Welcome home." The Black Door unlocks with the correct answer and the woman immediately walks in, barely containing her frustration enough so she wouldn't slam open the door.
She marches through the dark tunnel, stopping just before the candlelit hall. She takes a deep breath to calm herself before her expression is wiped completely. She enters the light, walking silently towards the blonde woman leaning over a map of Skyrim.
"Has Kisuke returned?" The Ohmes Khajiit asks immediately instead of a greeting. Astrid, the leader of the Falkreath Sanctuary, glances up with a cold look before going back to marking the map with a few new contracts.
"No. I take it he isn't with you, then Yoruichi," Astrid states nonchalantly. YoruichiShihōin narrows her eyes at the lack of care, but nods her head as her answer.
Astrid sighs quietly, twirling a dagger in her hand. "Rumors have been running rampant that someone tricked the Dark Brotherhood in Markarth. Apparently they attacked and killed the assassin sent."
"I heard it on my way back," Yoruichi speaks coldly, mentally cursing Kisuke for being taken by surprise. "The ones who did it apparently brag about how they sent the assassin running into the Druadach Mountains, where he then fell, likely to his death."
Astrid hums, likely having heard the same thing. She stands up from the table and stabs the dagger right through Markarth.
"We need to handle this... wayward client and their false contract, first. I will give Gabriella this contract. When she is finished, you may go search for Kisuke. Or his corpse," The Nord woman states before she turns to enter the main chamber.
Yoruichi narrows her eyes before she glances down at the map. She traces the Druadach Mountains with her eyes, finally showcasing her displeasure with a frown.
How could Kisuke have been caught off guard? Assassins like them don't get caught like this, especially one as old as Kisuke. Whatever had happened, it must have been planned to specifically go against him. They both survived the fall of the Cheydinhal Sanctuary, and shortly before that, survived the destruction of the Night Mother's crypt in Bravil. Kisuke alone has survived much, much more before Yoruichi was even born.
"You better still be alive, idiot." Yoruichi walks forward to enter the main chamber. She has an investigation to plan and she needs to make sure Gabriella knows to interrogate the client and the false contract before she kills them.
Yuzu hums a gentle tune, dragging her fingers across the wooden walls as she walks down the third-floor hall. Her eyes unwittingly snap towards the door she passes before she quickly forces them forward once more, walking past without a pause in her step.
It was the fifth time she walked past Ichigo's bedroom.
Yuzu walks to the end of the hall and stares out of the open window. The storm left behind a heavy mist in the mountains, blocking out the sun, yet holding in the heat the rays carry. Because of it, there's nothing much Yuzu can do; she's already finished her chores before Ichigo even finished cooking breakfast.
The young teenager turns around and begins to walk down the other side of the hall, passing Ichigo's bedroom for the sixth time.
With nothing to do, Yuzu is left with boredom and her ever increasing curiosity. She can smell the man's deathly slow heartbeat, and he's awake. She wants to go in and meet the stranger.
Yuzu turns around and starts to walk through the hall for the seventh time. She really wants to meet the stranger.
Her brother is absolutely infatuated with him; Yuzu smelt the spilt blood when she passed by the kitchen. She watched Ichigo carry it in a bowl, pulling down the sleeve of his linen shirt to hide the cut he made. She peeked up from the stairs and watched her brother blush bright red after feeding the stranger. The vampiric stranger.
Yuzu could assume the infatuation started because of the near complete isolation on this mountain. Or, she could assume Ichigo is just as curious as Yuzu is about a stranger and what stories he holds. But, her brother meets more people than she and Karin do.
He's infatuated because of something else. And Yuzu doesn't know what or why. Well, she knows why; the stranger is very beautiful. His beauty—and her brother's bleeding heart—is what caused the infatuation. Ichigo's just in denial, still. But... This just leaves the what.
TAP-TAP-TAP.
Yuzu looks up with a blink. She turns around, staring at the door she just passed.
TAP-TAP-TAP.
There it was again; the light knocking. Ah, does the stranger need something?
Yuzu walks forward and quietly opens the door. She peeks her head in, a small smile growing on her face. "Yes, sir stranger?"
"Oh. Hello," The stranger greets in a somewhat dazed voice. Yuzu watches as he blinks slowly, as if to compute who he was seeing. That's right. He hasn't met her or Karin yet. Well, he hasn't been awake to meet them.
"Hello, sir stranger," Yuzu greets kindly before she walks into the bedroom. "Do you need something?"
"...more water. Where is...?" The strange man trails off in his feverish daze, incredibly confused. Yuzu giggles before she walks towards the end table. There is no bowl and the cup is empty.
"The storm damaged our roof and some of our windows. My brother is fixing it at the moment." Yuzu leans towards the strange man and places a hand on his forehead. "Your fever has still yet to break... I may need to get you another potion... alright. I'll be back in a moment."
The young woman sighs quietly before she stands up straight. She walks out of the room and towards the stairs. Her brother left a pitcher of clean water in the kitchen, likely for a situation like this, and her alchemy lab is in the cranny behind the pantry.
She has... two more potions left? Hopefully, the stranger won't need more than that. It may be a few weeks before she can gather more mushrooms. And hawk feathers are hard to come by with them migrating.
Yuzu sighs with a shake of her head, entering the kitchen. The stranger's fever will break before she runs out of the potions to cure it. It better break or she's going to have a talk with the stranger for making her brother upset because he died.
It only takes her a few moments to swipe a potion and grab the pitcher of water before she's already marching her way back up to the third floor. With Karin out hunting and Ichigo doing repairs, no one is around to witness Yuzu brimming with excitement about conversing with the stranger.
The last visitor to have come by—who wasn't a bandit stumbling onto territory they had no hope of leaving—was a college friend and close confidant of their mother's named Urag, who visited just over five years ago when Yuzu and Karin were around ten years old. It had been right after their father's death and he had come by to help get everything in order. Yuzu and Karin are fifteen years old now, making her brother nineteen.
She doesn't mind being so isolated. The thought of dealing with people almost daily like most other people makes her skin crawl. But, having a visitor, even a surprise one like this stranger, is nice every once in a while.
What does he do? His armor and weapons suggests some kind of scout—or maybe some kind of assassin? Does he know magic? How old is he? He is a vampire, so he must be quite old. It's highly unlikely, but maybe he was alive during the 3rd—maybe even the 2nd Era! How did he become a vampire? Oh, the possibilities are endless! Yuzu's so excited to hear the stranger's stories.
"Sir stranger?" Yuzu walks into her brother's bedroom with a bright smile. "Would you like the potion or the water first?"
"There's no need for any kind of potion," The stranger says politely. Yuzu refrains from scoffing, keeping her smile on her face.
"Until your fever breaks, you will be drinking the potions. Or until I run out. Brother has spent so much time making sure you stay alive, I don't want you ruining his hard work by dying," Yuzu states before she sets down both the pitcher and the potion on the end table.
The stranger blinks slowly, likely his feverish brain catching up with what she had politely demanded of him. A soft chuckle escapes his lips before a crooked smile grows on his face.
"Oh? Does my savior truly care for me that much? I was beginning to think otherwise when he has yet to give me his name," The stranger says, silver eyes glittering in amusement. Yuzu stares with wide eyes, her breath coming out in a small sigh. Her shoulders relax slowly and her mind calms in its excitement.
Her brother's name? That's... something she could tell him. It wouldn't hurt... Yuzu opens her mouth to speak, her eyes becoming dazed.
"Yuzu? You better not be bothering the stranger." Ichigo's stern voice washes over Yuzu's senses like a balm. She blinks slowly before her heart skips a beat. The blood of the beast rushes through her veins, searing her blood to ash. Her wolf growls in her mind, gnashing its teeth as its claws dig into her psyche.
The growl releases itself from her chest before Yuzu manages to swallow it back. She blinks back into reality before frowning. The stranger stares at her with wide eyes, surprised she got out of his spell so quickly.
"You're quite impulsive when a fever inhibits your senses, and even luckier. My brother would have ripped your head from your body with his bare hands should you have done that to me with a coherent mind. It'd be in your best interest to never do it again. Ever." Yuzu warns the stranger with a cold glare.
The stranger, either too feverish to truly take the warning or too old to trust the warning of a young girl like Yuzu, only smiles widely, silver eyes shining in unbridled excitement and amusement. He hums thoughtfully as he leans his head back to rest against the pillow.
"I'm excited to see if he can do it," The stranger retorts calmly. Yuzu narrows her eyes before she turns around when she hears quiet footsteps stopping before the opened door.
"Yuzu," Ichigo states slowly, making the young lady flush. She puffs out her cheeks before she crosses her arms.
"I wasn't bothering him. I was only getting him the water he asked for," Yuzu defends herself in a mumble. Ichigo raises an eyebrow as he copies Yuzu by crossing his arms. They stare at each other, gold against amber, before Yuzu averts her gaze and lowers her head.
She still huffs loudly, pouting even more. "Yes, brother."
"Go get your sister. Lunch is ready downstairs," Ichigo says with a soft smile. Yuzu feels her ears burn even hotter before she trudges past her brother.
Ichigo's eyes don't stray from the stranger laying in his bed as Yuzu leaves the third floor. He tilts his head before he lowers his arms.
"It would be advised not to brush off my sister's warning. I've done worse for lesser slights against my sisters. And while I have never fought a vampire before, I have yet to be defeated by anything else on the plane," Ichigo speaks quietly and calmly. Maybe he is... intrigued by this stranger. He never gives a second warning.
"I count on it," Kisuke speaks smoothly. Ichigo tilts his head before he smiles sharply.
"Rest well, stranger. I'll be back around dinner unless you call for me." He turns and glides out of the doorway with barely a wisp of a sound. Okay. Maybe he's a bit more than simply intrigued... but no one has to know about it.
Hey! I hope you all like the new chapter! I'm sorry it took me so long. I had been in a writing mood for the longest time, and yet my brain couldn't decide which fucking story it wanted to write on. I finally got it done though.
The ending is meh to me, but it was a good enough place to end it. I have possible plans for the next chapter.
Anyways, I hope you all are enjoying the story so far! Bye.
WhovianWhoudini