
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/5379935.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      終わりのセラフ_|_Owari_no_Seraph_|_Seraph_of_the_End
  Relationship:
      Hyakuya_Mikaela/Hyakuya_Yuuichirou
  Character:
      Hyakuya_Mikaela, Hyakuya_Yuuichirou
  Additional Tags:
      Alternate_Universe, Age_Difference, Stockholm_Syndrome, Lima_Syndrome,
      Overcoming_Prejudices, Mika's_been_a_vampire_for_a_long_time, Meaning_Yuu
      and_Mika_aren't_kazoku, Frottage, Masturbation, Anal_Sex, First_Time,
      Edge_-_Freeform, Angst, Violence, So_much_edge, So_much_angst, there's
      fluff_too, I_don't_like_tagging_so_it'll_be_kept_to_a_minimum
  Stats:
      Published: 2015-12-10 Updated: 2017-11-07 Chapters: 17/? Words: 80632
****** Garden of Hades ******
by 6lilystrings9
Summary
     A stubborn, annoying, and repulsive human is captured by the Vampire
     forces, and to his dismay, Mika is assigned as his handler.
     How irritating.
     (The AU where human Yuu-chan and vampire Mika meet for the first time
     as captive and keeper)
     ((NOW WITH ART!!! Thanks to the BYOOTIFUL Maqui, reddverse, and Hi-
     hazuki!))
***** Orange Lilies *****
Chapter Summary
     They meet. Mika is pissed. Yuu is pissier.
Chapter Notes
     So if anyone's read any of my other works, they'd know this chapter
     is unusually short for me. I'm just testing the waters, see if
     anyone's into the premise.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
“I don’t want it.”
“Ah, how cruel Mikaela!”

He hissed. “I don’t care. I. Don’t. Want. It.”
Ferid’s smug grin never changed. Mikaela fantasized about the day he could rip
that infuriating face clean off. “Perhaps I wasn’t adequately articulated? Our
lovely Queen Tepes ordered it. You don’t have a choice.” The bastard said, all
too gleefully.
“Whyme?” He didn’t want to be stuck looking after some irritating human.
“Who knows?” Ferid hummed loftily. “Perhaps because our queen trusts you?
Supposedly, it’s a very important human. I’m so jealous!”
He grudgingly conceded the truth of Ferid’s theory. Out of his vampire peers,
Mikaela was the least likely to lose his temper or toy with the human for
amusement, either of which could wind up with a dead captive. The only other
person he could think of with the right temperament was Crowley, but his two
companions were jealous women; Chess especially was impulsive and careless. And
most importantly, he had the queen’s personal trust as her progeny.
"Don't look so miserable." Ferid leaned in conspiratorially. The bastard had no
sense of personal space. "I can personally assure you, the human is very cute.
Adorable, really."
"I don't care." He said flatly.
The Noble smirked. "You'll be changing your tune when you see him. Come."
Mikaela realized with a churning stomach that he really didn't have a choice in
the matter. He could argue with Her Majesty all he liked but it would only cost
him air and his time; once the queen came to a decision there was no changing
her mind. He followed Ferid into the dungeons, which was comprised of rows of
hallways with metal doors, thick stone walls, and plenty of rats. Disgusting.
They stopped at the end of one of the last rows, one that was completely empty
except for the captured headache. Its isolation signified its strategic
importance; they were being extra careful with this one. When Ferid led him to
its door, Mikaela could make out muffled noises. He opened the cell with a
sinking feeling and a smirking Noble that made it even worse.
Tied to the stone wall by the wrists and ankles was a small form, and as
Mikaela approached it he once again had to concede to Ferid. The human was not
aesthetically displeasing. It had black hair that looked soft, large eyes an
uncommonly rich shade of green, and very round, young-looking features.
Its brows were furrowed. What an angle.
Human teeth were so blunt.
Ah, its mouth is moving. It's talking.
"-fucking piece of shit! I'll rip you apart you disgusting overgrown leech-!"
And just like that, Mikaela was reminded that humans were tragically stupid and
annoying. He almost felt silly, letting big green eyes and soft black hair
momentarily distract him from that universal fact. The thing was obviously
screaming obscenities in the local tongue, Japanese. Mika had brushed up his
knowledge as per the queen's orders, but it was a token effort that resulted in
only a basic understanding of the language. He didn't try that hard because he
didn't need to know the local humans' tongue to kill them, nor did he need the
language to control the ones living in the city. But he didn't need fluency to
know when he was being cursed.
The volume was irritating. "Shut up." He cut in coldly, not at all impressed
with the display. When the human ignored him and kept shouting, he sighed and
slapped it across the face. He grudgingly admitted the queen was right as
usual. Other than Crowley, any other vampire would have lost their temper with
such a loudmouth. As it was, Mikaela didn't know many that could even
consciously control their strength; many of his peers would have accidentally
snapped its neck with that first slap alone. The gap in strength is such a wide
berth that it's easy for most vampires to overestimate how much punishment a
human can take.
The human's eyes widened like large, round dinner plates at the abrupt slap to
its soft cheek. Mikaela enjoyed approximately three seconds of blessed silence
before the thing roared and lunged at him, so engulfed with humiliated rage
that it seemed to forget it was currently chained to a wall. The links pulled
taut and held its body in place, but unfortunately didn't stop its incessant
howling any more than Mikaela's palm.
He pinched the bridge of his nose, afraid the throbbing sensation of a headache
will become very familiar in the near future. "The queen chose me
for this thing?" It almost felt like a punishment.
Ferid snickered, and the urge to punch him was almost overwhelming. "Ah, and
just a word of warning, Mikaela. The Queen has personally ordered no harm to
our little angel. Well, nothing permanent."
He could work with that.
"Understood. Now leave. You're an eyesore." He said, more than tired of Ferid's
lurking.
The Noble tutted. "So mean! I was only delivering the message. But I can see
you'd like some alone time with your new pet. I suppose I can grant you that."
Then he had the nerve to wink lasciviously and leave with a dramatic swish of
his cape. The bawdy insinuations made Mikaela's stomach turn.
Approaching the snarling human was like trying to approach a feral dog; it
snapped and growled and bared its blunt little teeth at him. It could have been
mildly cute, if the obnoxious volume weren't so irritating. "I can see you're
going to be a nuisance." He said, not caring to switch to Japanese. He didn't
care to speak with it. The human was in a uniform Mikaela recognized to be from
the Moon Demon Company, an elite force of the Japanese resistance's finest
soldiers. Its arms were tied behind its back and its ankles were tied together,
the bindings themselves were chained to the wall. When he unshackled it from
the wall, the human lost its support and fell to the ground with a squeak. It
was an opportunistic little thing; as soon as it landed it wriggled furiously
to loosen its bindings, reminding Mikaela of an oversized worm. Fitting.
It snapped its teeth warningly when he reached down, as if its blunt human
incisors could threaten him. He resisted the overwhelming urge to roll his eyes
and hoisted it over his shoulder in one sweep. If he thought the human was
boiling mad before, now it was absolutely frothing with rage. It squirmed in
his arms rather uselessly and presumably shouted threats and curses the entire
way to Mikaela's quarters, but it was all a useless waste of energy. As a
vampire, Mikaela was far stronger than any human could ever hope to be. All it
accomplished was making a hilarious scene for his peers, who pointed and
laughed at the comical display, exhausting the human himself, and irritating
Mikaela further. 
He slammed his door shut with his foot so hard the hinges rattled. They were in
his resplendent bedroom with no more company than a vocally furious human and a
quietly simmering vampire. Beyond his capacity for patience, Mikaela carelessly
dropped the human on the floor, the thing violently meeting the wood with a
satisfying thump and a pained groan. Because that wasn't enough for him, he
grabbed it by the collar and dragged it to the far corner of the room. There
was a slot carved into the stone with clasps attached to extending chains that
emerged from the maws of the slot, along with other clasps attached to the
lower wall. Some of the more privileged Nobles like to keep human pets, and as
the queen's progeny Mikaela was technically a vampire prince, of sorts. If he
wanted, it was well within his rights to keep his own pets. Except Mikaela was
repulsed by humans and wouldn't touch one in his life.
He manhandled the squirming thing with the difficulty of picking up a wet
kitten and chained it to the wall by its neck. With it properly secured in
place, he reached around and ripped its bindings apart with inhuman strength
that clearly surprised it. But not a breath later and Mikaela had to deal with
its wildly swinging fists. He caught them by the delicate little wrists and
slammed them harshly against the stone wall, chaining one to a clasp near the
bottom. With one of its arms bound it was forced to sit down against the wall,
and even if Mikaela released the appendage the chain around its neck only
granted the human enough room to walk two feet from its corner. Not a step
further. The chain didn't extend far enough.
And the whole time, the human shouted and snarled at him until its face was an
alarming shade of puce. Well, all the more reason to leave its ankles tied
together. No need to grant the human any favors if it was going to be an
irritant.
But if nothing else, he took his orders seriously. His queen has ordered him to
care for the human for an unknown period of time and to not harm him during
that length. So now that it was properly restrained against the wall, the first
thing on his list was procuring it food.
The provisions provided to the humans in the vampire capital were little more
than drinkable nutrient mush and a high-calorie block. Nobles, however, had the
connections to procure the fresh ingredients before they were sent to the
processing facilities, so those with human pets could pamper them with fresh
meals.
Mikaela didn't like the ugly thing in his room nearly so much. Mush and dry
rations it is.
When he came back to his room the human had finally settled down and dialed
back from kicking and screaming to glaring daggers like his eyes alone could
gut a vampire.
"Here. Eat." He tossed the packaged food rations at its feet.
The little annoyance had the nerve to sneer at him and kicked its food away.
The urge to roll his eyes was starting to become irritatingly familiar. Mikaela
smothered it. The human could be stubborn, but it would get hungry eventually,
and he would not entertain its obstinacy with his temper. "Be stubborn if you
want. You're going to have to eat sooner or later."
"I don't even know what you're saying, vampire." It said hatefully.
"That's because I don't care to talk to you." He responded in its native
language, visibly catching it by surprise. He stood before it, letting his full
height tower over the chained figure and cast a shadow that swallowed the human
whole. It watched his every move, like one should with a predator. "I just need
to make sure you stay alive. Nothing more and nothing less."
"Well, nice to know you won't shove your hand in my gut. Because we all know
how much you fucking monsters love that." It hissed, seemingly with all the
loathing its little body could muster. The humans eyes had that clouded quality
one got when memories were on repeat in the mind. "You got a name? Besides
bastard?"
He brushed it off. "Call me what you like. I have little care for a human's
words."
The human's temper was like a trigger that made it forget all logic; with a
snarl, it tried to launch itself at him despite how throughly chained it was.
"Fuck you!" When it bristled like that, its black hair fluffed up and made it
look like an irritated bird that had its feathers rubbed the wrong way.
"Charming." He said flatly. Mikaela was regretting letting it stay in his room,
but going back and forth from his quarters, all the way to the sub-levels
would've been annoying, especially if it was just to feed an loudmouthed human.
Besides, it wasn't like Mikaela spent much time in his quarters for anything
other than sleep. Sleep that was technically unnecessary, as vampires don't
need it. Blood is what sustains their energy and gives them vigor. However,
should one choose, sleep is an excellent way to pass idle time and conserves
energy and appetite. The more you sleep, the less you need to feed.
He spun on his heel, his white cloak swishing in the air.
"Oi- Where are you going?" It hissed. He answered with the slam of the door.
Chapter End Notes
     Just so you guys know, I'm a slut for comments. Let me know what you
     think of this AU concept. Got anything you look forward to? Anything
     you like so far? Dislike? Too early to tell? Like the fab capes?
***** Petunias *****
Chapter Summary
     Anyone who's had a young child or a stubborn human captive, which are
     technically the same thing, can probably relate to this chapter.
Chapter Notes
     Holyshit +100 kudos and 16 comments in one day?! HOLY SHIT. On the
     first chapter?! HOLY SHIT. YUU GUYS ROCK! HOLY SHIT. I was gonna wait
     until chapter 3 was done until I posted chapter 2 but- HOLY SHIT.
     TAKE IT. YUU GUYS EARNED IT.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
It still wasn't eating.
Mikaela patiently gave it two days to come around and stop being obstinate.
Four untouched meals later and he finally lost that patience.
"You will eat." He said coldly.
The human lifted its middle fingers in a rude gesture. "Fuck off."
He clicked his teeth irritably. "If you're going to be stubborn like a child
I'm going to feed you like one."
It had a few seconds to send him a confused look before Mikaela's gloved
fingers shoved into its mouth, stuffing food inside. Green eyes widened, and it
made furious gagging sounds as it choked around his hand. He abruptly pulled it
out and clamped it over the human's mouth, pinching its nose with his other
hand. "Swallow it." He commanded frostily.
With its oxygen cut off, the human had no choice but to comply. Mikaela watched
its Adam's apple bob and picked up another chunk of the dry biscuit while it
coughed and snarled at him. "You bastard!"
"You have no one but yourself to blame." He said, stuffing another piece of the
calorie ration into its mouth. Except the human was prepared this time and
clamped its blunt human teeth on his fingers with a vicious roar. It bit him.
He felt the cold rush of absolute fury wash over him like a wave of murderous
intentions. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he absolutely understood the
foresight of his queen. This human was insufferable. Since their meeting, it
has done nothing but kick, scream, and curse as loudly as it could and take
every opportunity to make everything little thing as difficult as possible.
Mikaela's face went utterly blank. Not a twitch, not a glint, nothing. An icy
sheet of expressionlessness that radiated more killing intent, more utter, all-
consuming rage than a show of temper ever could. The human shuddered and sent a
flinty, defensive glare. "Very well. If you don't want food, you won't get
food." He said in a menacingly calm tone and kicked the rations away, taking
his temper out on the food and smashing the biscuit and drink container,
spilling the contents everywhere. "Beg me if you want any more." The human
wanted to play stubborn. So be it. He could wait for hunger to whittle away its
willpower. On his way out he slammed the door so hard the hinges rattled.
He walked away from the room feeling like he lost the battle. Losing his temper
like that was giving the human a semblance of power over him. He regretted the
lapse in control and the bite didn't even hurt, but he liked to think it was
understandable given the particular human he was stuck with. Why couldn't it
just cower in fear like the other ones? He wouldn't particularly like that, but
at least it wouldn't be as tiresome.
He stopped by once a day, carrying a simple box of the same rations. Every day,
he would sit on the chair before the human and wait. Wait for it to beg, to
plead, to become so desperate in its hunger that it would implore him to feed
it. Every day, the human glared at him with stubborn silence and angry green
eyes that grew dull with every passing day without nourishment. On the fourth
day, making for a total of six days without food, the human was so weak it
seemed unable to lift its head to watch him. Its green eyes were blank and
gazed unseeingly at a random spot in the distance, sluggish and lame with the
exhaustion of malnourishment.
A starved vampire would be begging by the fifth day.
This was getting very bad. Mikaela was beginning to realize the human would
genuinely starve itself before it gave in to him.
He needed to talk to Krul.
 
===============================================================================
 
Krul was a complex figure in Mikaela's life. She was his progenitor, the
closest thing vampires had to the human concept of a parent, and yet she was
one he undeniably held feelings of hatred and resentment towards in the past.
Nowadays, he felt nothing close to love, but something closer to respect for
her authority and her strength. She was on her throne, as usual, between
scheduled summons and meetings with the various nobles that cycled in every day
with reports on everything from the state of the vampire city's various
machinations, to war strategies and battle summaries, to field and crop
reports. Showing up unannounced was a privilege allowed only those who wanted
to die, had genuinely urgent news, or were Mikaela.
He burst into the doors without a second of remorse, feeling quite justified
when he had the courtesy to accost her between meetings. "Why?" He said the
second his foot was through the door.
"Going to have to be more specific, Mikaela dear." Krul said with that
satisfied smirk. She knew damn well what he was asking.
"Why are we going to such lengths for something that uncooperative?" He hissed
at the mere memory of these past six days. He was angry that it could defy him
for so long, and even angrier with the secret admiration he felt for that
willpower.
She laughed at his visible irritation. "Letting a little human get you?
Mikaela, you're slipping." He was well known for his cool head and serious
demeanor among his peers. He didn't joke around like Crowley, play sadistic
games like Ferid, or relish bloodshed like Lacus. He accomplished his mission
objectives with robotic efficiency, and that was that.
"I haven't changed. The human is just that remarkably insufferable."
"I'm sure you can handle it." She said dismissively, but the impish and teasing
twinkle in her red eyes never waned. She was toying with him.
He pinched his brow, reigning in his temper. Losing it with Krul
never benefitted him. "Not when I can't punish it for its disobedience. It's
refusing food and I could easily force-feed it." He planned to, after this
meeting. No matter how uncooperative it was, it would never have the strength
to physically resist Mikaela. "But sooner or later it's going to realize I have
no way of disciplining it for overstepping its bounds, and then I'll have no
way of controlling it."
"Pardon?"
"You specifically ordered that no harm come to the human, and that it be taken
care of. I have tried force-feeding it, but it was uncooperative. I decided to
try and starve its willpower out, but I'm convinced it will allow death to
claim it before it gives in to me. I am at an impasse with no way to punish
it."
"Mikaela..." She tutted, looking at him with condescending disappointment. Like
a child that failed a test. "There are other ways to exert dominance and
control."
"I..." He looked at her with some measure of disgusted horror. "You're not
suggesting-?"
She really got a kick out of that. Mikaela waited for a full minute, with no
small amount of humiliation, for her eruption of laughter to die off. "No,
though sexual force certainly is a viable method. Tell me, Mikaela, what is the
source of its strength? What fuels its resistance?"
Mikaela liked to think the human's energy ran on obstinacy and fed off the
headaches it caused.
Krul knows him well and could sense he was going to wait for her answer. "It's
pride." She said. "The human has its pride. Its dignity. So take it away."
He left with his mind so buzzing with new information and formulating plans
that he failed to realize Krul had dodged the question. Why were they going to
such lengths for one human?
 
===============================================================================
 
"Today, you will put something into your system." He remembered some things of
human physiology, the most important fact being that water and liquids were
more important than food. If he could put some hydration into it today, it
could last until tomorrow's plan. For today, he brought water and the nutrient
mush, and he planned to make it consume the entirety of the water and mouthfuls
of the nutrient mix.
The human didn't respond, but when he focused his hearing he could make out its
heartbeat. The human was alive, just weak from hunger and silent from hatred.
He kneeled before it and untwisted the cap from the water, reaching out with
his other hand and gripping its chin harshly. Mikaela dug his fingers into it's
cheeks and forced its mouth open. "Drink." He commanded, shoving the nozzle
into its mouth and squeezing the bottle. The results were... not what he
intended. The bottles were for humans, after all, so he wouldn't know what it's
like to drink out of one. Well, squeezing it, as it turns out, caused a
veritable waterfall to gush out all at once and choke the human, which caused
it to cough violently. So much poured out that most of the liquid didn't even
make it into its mouth, soaking the front of its shirt, and what did make it
was hacked out in a coughing fit.
"Y-you-," The human coughed and hacked, "You bas-bastard..."
Obviously that wasn't going to work. He had another idea that he hoped to
avoid, mostly because it would be a pain in the ass. There was still a little
over half of the water left, and Mikaela supposed it would be enough. He tilted
his head back and took a mouthful. Anything but blood tasted disgusting to a
vampire's tongue, even water, which felt thin and uncanny in his mouth. He
waited for the human's surprisingly long coughing fit to subside with no small
amount of impatience. The sooner he could get this nasty substance out of his
mouth, the better.
His hand grabbed its chin the moment it stopped. "Not again-!" It tried to
complain, but Mikaela cut it off by pressing their mouths together.  There was
a pause of absolute stillness, where even the human seemed to have forgotten to
breathe. Then, like the flip of a switch, it abruptly burst into life and began
thrashing wildly when it felt Mikaela's tongue slide in to force the water
inside, probably with the only remaining energy it had.
Mikaela adjusted his grip to its cheeks, like before, to keep it from biting
down on him while he swirled his tongue around inside to encourage a swallow.
His free hand reached up and pinched its nose shut, cutting off its air supply.
He separated when he registered a swallow. The human was a vivid red and
absolutely livid.
"You fuck-! Nn!" He cut off its shrieking with another mouthful of water. This
was putting some life into it. Mikaela was almost relieved when he pulled away
to the sight of it kicking and screaming. It was still annoying, but if it died
on him he'd face severe consequences.
"Just stop you-! Mn!"
Another kiss.
"I swear to God I'll fucking murde-! Mmph!"
And another.
Water was repeatedly forced into its mouth, again and again. He pulled away
with a wet pop to assess the situation. The human looked more alive, with its
face flushed and dizzy and breathing heavily. Between its screaming and Mikaela
shoving water down its throat it barely had any time to catch a substantial
breath. More importantly, it looks humiliated. Furious.
Good. If it has the energy to be pissed off it has the energy to survive.
There was still water left. Mikaela eyed the human intently, causing it to go
rock still like a small mouse that caught eyes with a large cat.
"You really don't need to do that aga-! Nn!"
"Seriously quit it-! Ngh!"
"Y-You- You kissy freak-! Mmph!"
Mikaela would privately admit there was some entertainment to be had in this.
He didn't stop until the whole bottle was drained.
'Kissy freak.'
Pfft.
Now onto the nutrient mix.
 
===============================================================================
 
 
Yesterday was entertaining, and it felt mildly satisfying to humiliate the
human that caused him so much trouble, but it didn't clear away the root
problem. The human was still uncooperative and, while the water helped, it
can't survive on hydration alone. Not for long.
And Mikaela was not going to force feed it again.
"You've repeatedly refused food." He said to the human that, to his private
amusement, wouldn't look him in the eye. He'd forgotten what was like to have
that kind of youth. Actual youth.
But this was a serious matter; he pushed his amusement aside and kneeled down
to an increasingly suspicious human. "If you want to eat," he said coldly,
"you'll eat it from here." He unfolded his palm to reveal a handful of cold
rice. If it wanted to eat, it would have to do so from his palm like a pet.
Mikaela knew what he was doing. This move was a power play, a show of dominance
for a human that refused to learn its place.
There was a beat of silence. "What." The human hissed indignantly. "No way in
hell."
He kept his look cool and disinterested. "Then I'll force it down your throat
again." Narrow its options. Make it feel helpless.
"You piece of shit-" He interrupted it like yesterday, jabbing his fingertips
into its mouth, and would secretly admit to the immaturity of how good it felt
to cut the annoying creature off. It gagged violently around his fingers;
Mikaela was not gentle at all. He retracted his hand and waited for it to
finish coughing, picking up another handful of rice out of the container.
"Would you like to change your mind?" He asked tonelessly when its choking died
down.
"Fuck you." It rasped and was rewarded with more food getting shoved down its
throat, the human tried biting again, but its human teeth were blunt little
things. Just like last time, it didn't hurt in the slightest. Mikaela punished
it by letting his hand stay in there longer, viciously choking it with a
mouthful of food and a hand blocking it from chewing. Reflexive tears welled in
its green eyes.
His gloved hand emerged sticky and slimy with saliva. Disgusting.
"I can do this until it's all gone." He said, picking up more rice. "And we can
do this day after day, after day, again and again, if you like. Or," He held
out his palm, "You can eat peacefully from here."
It was coughing hard enough to shake its entire body.
"You can either have food painfully shoved down your throat, or eat at your own
pace from my hand." He tried to sum up the ultimatum in a way that clearly
showed how little control it had over the situation. "Either way,
you will eat."
It stared at the floor, willfully refusing to answer.
He willed his voice to stay level and cold. If he revealed even an inch of his
annoyance, the entire imbalance of power he'd been building could be shattered.
"Fine."
So they continued, bite after bite, each handful of food choking the human
until it was all gone. It was remarkable, the lengths it went to in every
conceivable way to defy everything Mikaela wanted from it, but it was
ultimately pointless. Either way, it was demeaned. He would rather cooperate
briefly, eat as much as he could, and conserve his energy for an opportunity.
What the human was doing was literally pointless from every angle he
considered, except for meaningless pride.
He unscrewed the water bottle and took a mouthful, the mere cracking sound of
opening plastic bringing the convulsing human to a screeching halt.
It looked at him with barely restrained horror. "Y-You're not gonna do
that again are you-? Mmph!"
He let the ungraceful meeting of their lips answer that.
"Will you just stop-?! Mm!"
No, he wasn't. If it wasn't going to cooperate he was going to make this as
painful and humiliating as possible.
"I'll drink! I'll drink okay?! Just sto-! Ngh!"
Too late now.
"Goddammit you-! Nn!"
It would almost be amusing again, if Mikaela weren't so irritated with it.
He parted their lips for a final time with a slick-sounding smack. Water
dribbled down both their chins from the literal fight to get water into its
mouth. He wiped his face clean with a swipe of his thumb, letting the human
clean up its own face.
"Stop that!" It croaked, voice raw from an entire evening of gagging around
Mikaela's hand and almost coughing its lungs out.
He remained impassive. "I don't take orders from you, human." He said coldly.
"You refuse to cooperate at every turn. You have no one but yourself to blame
for your situation."
"That's not true!" It snarled, looking frayed and feral from an entire evening
of humiliation after humiliation. "You're the one doing this to me!"
"The one doing this to you, in reaction to your choices." He corrected. "I
offer you a choice, every time. You didn't have to be choked. You didn't have
to be force-fed your water. My actions are the results of yours. All of this-
it's all your choice. Think about that the next time you refuse me." He left
the human to its thoughts, uncaring what it chose, because in the end, he
walked away with his dominance clearly established. Krul was right.
There were many ways to exert control.
Chapter End Notes
     Turns out, Mika DOES have a sense of humor. XD He's just a bully that
     enjoys pissing Yuu-chan off. Probably because he's such a headache,
     haha! Something I personally like about this fic in comparison to
     Positive Punishment is that Mika is not fucking insane. He has lines
     he won't cross and psychological manipulation is not second nature to
     him. He actually has to step-by-step strategize and think about it
     while he interacts with Yuu. And that last line! Jeez! XD Talk about
     twisting logic!
     As always, this author goes bananas for comments. Leave a kudos if
     you like, but any comments, no matter how short and sweet and brief,
     are much appreciated!
***** Kalmia *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
The next time Mikaela came to feed it, the human was more stubborn than ever,
throwing barbs and insults at every opportunity and once even head-butting him
when he tried to give it water. If it wasn’t so infuriating, he might have been
amused because of the sheer harmlessness of its tantrums.
They continued like that for several days. He would come twice a day and offer
it food from his palm. Every time, the human snarled and refused his offer. And
every time, Mikaela painfully forced its meal down its throat, humiliating it
with his dominance. Despite the daily battles, the steady supply of nourishment
restored its vitality, a healthy glow once again flushing its cheeks and
glitter returning to its big green eyes. The human itself frustrated and
aggravated him, but the job well done satisfied Mikaela.
But he wondered when all of this was going to come to a head. The more they
fought, the more battles he had to win, the more he had to swallow his temper
and force an icy calm over his violent urges to throttle the obstinate
creature, the more he wanted to know when Krul will do whatever it was she had
planned. It’s already been more than a week, and he was growing tired of the
constant trips to the blood bank to compensate his lack of sleeping.
He received not an answer, but more questions when he was assigned a mission.
“This makes no sense.” He said to the officer that delivered the written
report, “I have that human tasked under my watch.”
The other vampire nodded. “Queen Tepes has requested me to notify you that you
she already considered that, and suggests that you find a replacement for your
period of absence.” His words were true. Her signature was written right at the
bottom, in her own blood. No vampire worth their salt could ever mistake the
scent of an individual's blood.
So she really did personally order it. He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Does
she wantit dead? She knows what it’s like.”
“She…” He hesitated, “She also said, and I quote this, sir, “’If you’re
hesitant it means you’re still slipping.’”
Sometimes, he wanted to punch Krul too.
Mikaela went to feed the captive for the last time for what he knew would be
while, choking it and humiliating it again. He would never acknowledge it out
loud, but a part deep inside of him very grudgingly gave some respect for its
mental fortitude. Even now, it was still shouting curses and being a general
nuisance.
Still, he thought it best he warn it. “Starting tomorrow, you will be
transferred as someone else’s problem.” He said.
“What?” The human rasped; day after day of abuse from both Mikaela’s choking
and its shouting had worn down on its chords.
“I’m leaving on a mission. Someone else will look after you during that time.
Try to be less you. As much as you disgust me, I’d rather not come back to you
in tiny pieces.”
“Fuck you.” It said. That was practically its catchphrase.
“Creative.” Mikaela said flatly. “As I am still your assigned handler, Auriel
has been instructed not to physically assault you.”
Black brows furrowed. “…Why would you do that?” It sounded very suspicious.
“Are humans allowed to tarnish each other’s property?”
Mikaela wasn’t looking at it, but could tell just by the staccato sound of
chains rattling that the human tried to launch itself at him out of pure
violent instinct. “You fuckwad!”
Technically, Mikaela wasn’t allowed to harm the little annoyance either. If
anything it was Krul’s property, not his. But it didn’t need to know that.
“Regardless, Auriel is there to bring you food.” He said, brushing it off like
a tiny feather and unlocking one of the clamps that locked its wrists against
the wall. Predictably, the first thing it tried to do was introduce its fist to
Mikaela's face. He dodged the strike as easily as the swipe of a kitten’s paw.
“He is not to feed you.” He continued like it didn’t exist, making it angrily
fluff up even more. “That’s my job.”
“He can’t be any worse than you, you frickin’ pervert.” It snarled.
He would clear that one up immediately. “Don’t misunderstand,” he said
frigidly, “I derive no pleasure from touching an unpleasant creature like you.”
And that was the truth. Mikaela felt nothing when their lips made contact,
besides the occasional burst of satisfaction in exploiting its weakness, in
getting a solid jab underneath its prickly armor.
“Point still stands, you overgrown leech.”
He left before he could unwillingly entertain the human further.
 
===============================================================================
 
Auriel himself was a quiet one, and while Mikaela really didn’t trust any of
his vampire peers, aside from the laid-back Crowley, to not snap and twist the
human’s head clean off its body, the quiet vampire was likely the best choice.
When word got out that he was looking for a replacement handler, Auriel
volunteered himself with a good argument; Mikaela’s never had a case of
insubordination and Auriel kept a cool head in every situation encountered. If
he could think of anyone that wouldn’t lose their temper, he would be the one
to bet on.
"I accept your order, Captain." He cocked his head to the side, a twist of the
head that made him look like some sort of owl. Auriel was very tall, just as
tall as Crowley, only skinnier like someone pinched the top of his head and
stretched him out. "I am to merely leave the food within arm's reach?"
"Yes. I order you, and I mean this, do not lay your hands on the human under
any circumstance. You will not lose your temper. That is an order." He said
firmly.
The other vampire nodded slowly, like the air around his head was thick like
molasses. "I understand, sir." He slid into a sluggish salute that would have
had Mikaela snapping at anyone else, but one could expect nothing better from
Auriel. Mikaela wasn't overly insistent about receiving by-the-code respect
anyways. He wasn't interested in getting his boots licked, he was interested in
getting results, and the vampire before him was strong and level-headed even in
the heat of battle, an all-around excellent asset.
He left for the helicopter as close to confident as he could get in leaving the
obnoxious creature behind. Auriel rarely worked up enough emotion to blink, let
alone get angry. It would be fine.
The mission itself was a straightforward one. Lead a small squad north, into
Fukui, and round up humans suspected to be in the area, determined by the
sudden increase of Four Horsemen. What Mikaela didn't understand what
why he was delegated for this mission. There were surely other captains that
could handle such a routine mission. Questioning Krul would likely get him
nowhere, but it frustrated him nonetheless. He would complete this mission as
quickly as possible and hurry back to his charge before it could perform a
miracle and drive Auriel to madness.
They entered a building spotted by their scouts and a likely hiding place for
other humans. It was crumbling and falling apart just like the rest of Japan,
with vines and greenery growing up the sides and in patches on the exposed
floor. Nature reclaiming its lost property.
A small clattering sound drew his attention. He held up a hand to signal his
flank guards, pushing them back into an arrow formation with him at the head.
He followed the sound  to a large, dark circular room. His advance sight could
pick up the shadowy human forms hidden in the various corners of the room, but
they were much too large to be childre-
Lights abruptly switched on, blindingly bright and painfully searing to
sensitive vampire sight.
His eyes were squeezed shut, but his ears couldn't mistake the roar of a battle
cry.
Ah, so that's it. It was a trap.
Mikaela had no doubt a certain someone knew full well about human activity in
the area.
How nice of Krul.
He was experienced enough in battle to recognize the scream of a blade tearing
through the air and jumped back in time to dodge a human's slash. He blearily
opened his eyes, vision blurry but good enough to make out the battlefield.
They had been successfully jumped, and the humans had preemptively cut a decent
swath into his men, but it wouldn't be enough to topple them.
He dodged to the left, narrowly missing the edges of twin cursed blades aiming
for his back. "Humans are so annoying." He muttered, allowing himself a second
of distraction to think about black hair and green eyes lit like fire.
More humans joined the one that attacked him. Two girls. A meager squad
totaling in three-
An arrow whizzed by from the upper levels, to the right. Mikaela narrowly
dodged it with a tilt of his head.
Make that four.
He gazed at them with no small amount of disinterest, visibly antagonizing two
of the three before him, though the smallest girl seemed to understand who they
were challenging, going by the nervous, wary look on its face.
"This one is too much for us," It said, brown eyes never leaving him even
though he knew it was rapidly thinking of every way they could escape the
situation. Smart. "We need to back away, Kimizuki."
The boy with the paired weapon curled its lip. "But this bloodsucker would know
where he is! He looks important enough!"
"Vampires respect only two things." He started, tilting his head the other way
to avoid another arrow. The effortlessness of the move clearly unnerved the
group before him. "Age and strength. If I'm an important-looking vampire, what
do you think that means?"
"That you belong in a nursing home, old man?" The boy snarked, even as it
looked increasingly wary of him. Cute.
But definitely not smart. Mikaela easily side-stepped a third arrow. "It means
you're all going to die, humans. So sit quietly and wait for the end."
 
===============================================================================
 
In the dead silence of his isolation, the only thing keeping Yuu going was the
sweet and comforting thoughts of his family at home and tearing his fingers
into that blonde bastard's throat again and again until it was red mush that
couldn't heal anymore.
That's be real fucking nice.
But another leech would be coming soon, and Yuu was sure as shit it would be
vastly preferable to That Bastard.
The door creaked open as if his thoughts were enough to summon bloodsuckers,
and that'd be nice for the times he had Asuramaru in his hand and ready to
swing, but for now it heralded more humiliation and thirst for vampire blood.
The vampire that walked in was vastly different from That Bastard in every
conceivable way. That Bastard was obviously in its youth, but was still pretty
built and filled out its tall, adult body. This one was tall and skinny like he
was made of stretchy dough or something. That Bastard's eyes were always clear
and focused, gazing into a single point with absolute clarity and continued
disinterest. This one's eyes were glassy and unfocused with laziness and he
turned his head to look around like some bizarre, overgrown bird.
It was just staring at him. What the fuck. "Stare as long as you like. Maybe
I'll change colors." He sniped, taking a page from Shinoa's book. He certainly
had plenty of time to think up a few zingers, stuck in this hell-hole. She'd be
proud.
It only cocked his head to the side. "Ah, the Captain was right. You are a
piece of work."
"Well fuck you too." Yuu said, always glad to be a thorn in a vampire's side.
It looked at him like a he was a bug in the windowsill- a mildly curious object
during moments of express, painful boredom. “It’s like you don’t realize the
position you’re in.”
“It’s because I’m gonna get out of here one day, get back to my squad, and
exterminate all of you parasites” He said.
"Oh?" All at once, the dull, glazed look in its eyes sharpened into something
gleaming and intense. It unnerved him to all hell. "I wonder about your
supposed squad. They can't be too interested in helping you. It's already been
a week."
"You shut your fucking mouth, you overgrown parasite! The hell do you know
about family?!"
Yuu's eyes couldn't even track the movement. It was only when he felt a sharp
and blinding pain to his stomach that he realized he'd been viciously kicked in
the stomach.
"I thought that bastard ordered you not to touch me?!"
"That he did." Auriel said with that same tone of mild curiosity. "Well, he
said not to lay a "hand" on you. So I'll just kick you where he can't see. It's
not like you'll go running to him anyways." 
Even while kicking the crap out of him, it still had the nerve to look utterly
bored and lazy. That Bastard always just looked infuriatingly disinterested,
like it was stuck watching paint dry or some shit, but this one looked like it
was about to fall asleep!
"You know, truthfully," It started pleasantly, even as it was twisting its
fucking foot into his stomach. "I volunteered myself for this. I was quite
curious about the human that was captured. You see, I work under Captain
Shindou's squad, but I also do work with the scouting company. I was a part of
the squad that saw to your capture."
“Enjoy the show, you freak?” He wheezed, bruised and winded from the powerful
blows to his stomach.
“No. But I am curious about the reason why the Queen is so interested in you.”
“Who the fuck kno-?!“
Another strike, this one so fucking pointed Yuu could practically feel his
stomach flatten into mush. He doubled over into a violent gag, throat clenching
tightly around the vile little ball that threatened to creep its way to the
top.
“That wasn't a question." the piece of shit said infuriatingly calmly over the
sound of him hacking his lungs out. "Hm, maybe she’d like to see what happens
to humans after abandonment. There’s an old saying that rabbits can die from
loneliness. Perhaps the same is for humans?” There’s that creepy look again,
like he was a bug strung out on a table for examination.
“Abandonment?” He hissed, voice hoarse. “You bloodsuckers don’t know shit about
family, so don’t even try to pretend you know-“
Another kick, this time to his ribs. It hurt like hell, but in the back of his
mind Yuu knew the vampire had to be holding back, since none of his ribs
shattered from the impact like glass.
“And yet they’ve never tried to come for you.” Auriel drawled. “Perhaps because
they’re already dead.”
Yuu was stubborn and thickheaded and would take any risk to save someone close
to him, but he wasn’t outright stupid. He knew he was chained to the wall. He
knew no matter how hard he pulled on his iron bonds he would never be able to
break free and beat the life out of the monster in front of him. That didn’t
stop his temper from reaching a blazing boil. That didn’t stop him from trying
to lunge at Auriel with all his might. The chains pulled taught, unyielding to
his human strength even when he tried as hard as he can to run forward and wrap
his fingers around that fucking throat.
“You bastard. If any one of you monsters even touchedthem I swear I’ll-!“
“The Captain, your real keeper, is on a mission in Fukui." The vampire
interrupted like Yuu's fury was a mild breeze. "As part of a recon squad I know
for a fact that your Moon Demon Company has left evidence of some activity. It
would be a shame if your so-called family was slaughtered by the man charged
with caring for you, wouldn’t you say?”
It was a lie. It was definitely a lie. Before Yuu was taken there was never any
talk about activity in Fukui. It was too vulnerable, too close to the Vampire
City. Activity in Fukui was too risky to consider. It was a fucking liar.
It was lying.
Auriel watched his mounting anxiety with sickening interest before it left, the
silence roared in Yuu's ears, pulling distant memories out of long dusty
corners and summoning images he wanted buried. Its words had gotten to him in
ways much worse than he wanted to admit.
Fucking hell, he was wrong in every sense of the word. That Bastard
was way preferable to this maniac. The blonde humiliated him and touched him in
vastly inappropriate ways that made him feel uncomfortable, but Yuu would take
that over this one's mind-fucking any day. The beating he could easily take.
But not this- this playing around with his head. And he was stuck with this for
who knows how long. Fuck.
'Hurry the hell back, you piece of shit!' 
Chapter End Notes
     And just so you guys know, Captains are actually a decent rank, if my
     understanding of google's results is accurate, "Commands and controls
     company-sized units (62 to 190 Soldiers), together with a principal
     NCO assistant. Instructs skills at service schools and The United
     States Army combat training centers and is often a Staff Officer at
     the battalion level." I'm no military whiz, but from some quick
     googling it sounds pretty dang high up there, so I went with that.
     Also because the mental image of Mika personally training his Yuu-
     chan to fight gives me fluffy tingles eue With his literal decades of
     experience, Mika would be a damn good instructor~
     As always, leave a comment with your thoughts, if you want. This
     author always appreciates them!
***** White Orchids *****
Chapter Notes
     ...I wanted this out on Mikayuu day ;n; two days late, unfortunately
     Sasdsfghgjkjl; but in my defense it was because I was busy drawing
     this: http://6lilystrings9.tumblr.com/post/135907278729/bonus-
     photographer-mika-bonus-bonus-mika-ferid
     ((NSFW warning for the pic ^^; ))
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Mikaela came back four days later with a bone-deep weariness that was in no way
caused by his mission. Slaughtering the humans was relatively easy. What tired
him was having to interact with his peers; Mikaela was never one for
socialization. He made a brief trip to the military showers, washing away the
blood from the humans he killed. He had his own private bathroom connected to
his room, but returning to the human while covered in the bloodstains of his
comrades was likely to make to antagonize the creature and worsen its behavior,
which he wasn't in the mood for. He gathered the human's rations and returned
to what was formerly his bedroom as quickly as he could, as he felt
justified to worry that it could irritate any vampire to the point of violence
and murder. To his private relief, it was stilled tied there, same as usual.
Strangely, it didn't notice him. It was normally so alert.
The room was as silent as a tombstone. He purposely made noise with his
footsteps, allowing the heel of his boots to click and clack against the smooth
wooden floors. It sluggishly registered the noise and looked up at him; the
shadowed, exhausted gaze threw him off a little.
"Oh, you're here..." It said slowly. Then it blinked. Time seemed to speed up
from its lethargic setting to a normal speed before his eyes. "Wait- Oh, you're
here!" It suddenly perked up, presenting a picture of literally coming back to
life from a frozen, corpse-like state.
This was very odd. "What do you look so happy for?" He asked suspiciously.
The human scoffed instantly, but the poorly-hidden happiness on its face
completely ruined the scornful look. "D-Don't be ridiculous. I was just bored."
At this time of day, Auriel wouldn't have fed the human yet, and Mikaela had
fully planned to resume his duties today, but...
"You're disgusting." He said, lip curling reflexively at the offensive stench
wafting from the prisoner. It reeked of stagnation, its clothes were soiled,
and its previously soft hair was a matted, filthy wad of tangles.
"Fuck off." It grumbled, but its face twisted into a disgusted grimace. It
clearly agreed.
Mikaela had to take care to consider his options. He had been carefully
building a strong imbalance of power between them prior to his departure. A
show of kindness could be disastrous, could shirk his dominance, but if he were
to make it clear such things were not in the human's interest... "You need a
bath." He said, going through with it anyways, because he genuinely didn't
think he could put up with such a terrible odor. Vampiric senses were very
strong, so the stench was all the worse an assault on his nose.
It looked at him as if he sprouted another limb. "Seriously?"
The human was bound by handcuffs, which were in turn tied to the wall. "Yes. I
refuse to look after something so revolting." He said coolly, unchaining his
shackles from the wall. He made to grab its scruff, but the little worm
squirmed away and flopped uselessly on its side.
"Agh," It hissed from the painful landing. "I can walk myself, thanks."
Mikaela gave it an unimpressed look. "I don't care." He grabbed the front of
its black shirt, overestimating the structural integrity of the clothing,
pulling a little too hard and ripping the fabric. The human squawked
indignantly and tried to curl up, but it was far too late. He had seen them,
large purple and black splotches littering its front torso, an offense to his
eyes by the implications of their existence. 
"What is this?" He asked with the calm and serenity of a frigid, dead
wasteland, body completely still. "Human? What is this?"
"It's nothing." It muttered defensively, curling inwards and defiantly looking
away.
He would have none of that. "This," he said stonily, yanking its torn collar
open and exposing the beaten flesh over its offended cry. "is not nothing. You
will answer me. Who did this?"
It looked at him with those eyes again, those bright willful eyes that burned
like green fire. "Fuck off, you piece of shit. I said it's nothing-!"
In the time it took to blink, Mikaela fists slammed into the walls on either
side of its head, fists crunching into the painted material. It flinched. "When
I ask a question, I expect an answer." He said warningly. "I want to know who
did this to you."
"The fuck do you even ca-?!"
"Answer." He leaned uncomfortably close, both to his sensitive nose and to the
human's innocent sense of decency. It was clearly unnerved by his proximity.
It glared at him with all of the hate its fragile human body could muster. If
looks alone could gut a man, not even vampiric accelerated healing could save
Mikaela's innards. Whatever had happened while he was gone was enough to
agitate their already strained relationship and erase all of the dominion and
control he'd been working for. "...It was that guy. The one you wanted watching
me." It admitted bitterly. "All you vampires are like that, so I dunno why
you're acting so surprised."
Mikaela's smiled. It was not a nice smile. "I'm not." Rather, he
was absolutely livid. He knew this would happen. Every instinct within him
screamed that this would happen, but he was fool enough to talk himself out of
listening to them.
Auriel has invited all of Mikaela's built up frustration, irritation, and fury
down upon his head. He looked forward to the release of his temper.
"Wait patiently." He said mildly, the sudden change to a softer tone visibly
startling the human. "I'll return shortly. You can feed yourself, just for
today."
 
===============================================================================
  
Auriel was easy to find. Mikaela had previously thought of him as a predictable
vampire because of his pronounced habits and patterns. At this time, he would
likely be observing humans in the lower decks. Fetching him was equally easy,
as Mikaela is the other vampire's commanding officer and thus holds authority
over him, despite their age difference.
He followed the blonde unsuspectingly, or perhaps with his own unusual brand of
stoicism; Auriel hides his thoughts with his bizarre, birdlike mannerisms.
"What brings me back to your pet?" He asked mildly, observing the door to
Mikaela's room with the same bland curiosity one might show for a cobweb or
some other mundane part of the background. Auriel was always like that. He
observed the world as if it was merely the background of his mind, never fully
in the present, even in the midst of battle.
Though, when Mikaela truly thought about it, all vampires were like that.
Auriel was just more honest about the lack of life in living forever. "Enter."
He said curtly, not in the mood for entertaining dialogue.
When Mikaela brought him into his room, the human took one look at Auriel and
every last wall, every last barrier Mikaela had tirelessly worked to wear away
into submission were reconstructed before his eyes. The most damning evidence
of all. Mikaela payed the human no mind, knowing it was already watching them
with all the wary intent of a cornered prey.
"What do you see here?" He asked, leaning leisurely against the wall by the
door.
Ariel cocked his head to the side. "It's the prisoner."
"Go on." He said flatly, ignoring the offended look said prisoner was wearing.
The other vampire's ruby eyes began twitching in that bizarre erratic manner
that often unsettled his squad mates. Mikaela knew it was the look of Auriel
rapidly calculating a situation and painstakingly assessing every minutia of a
single moment. "Your human."
"Yes." He suddenly snarled, kicking Auriel in the back like the swift snap of a
viper, satisfied to hear the loud crack of bone snapping. The older, but far
weaker vampire grunted in agony and dropped to his knees, while the onlooking
human gaped like a dimwitted fish.
The wound was already healing, the tell-tale sound of bones snapping and
resetting cracking through the room, but Mikaela had anticipated that. His
brought his foot down on Auriel's head, viciously smashing it into the floor,
bending his body into a submissive posture with the strength in a single foot.
"Yes," he repeated in a cold hiss, "A human I, your commanding officer, gave
you specific orders to not harm. And what did you do?"
The filth had the nerve to look pleased with itself even as the cold floor
smothered its face. "I played with it. I was curious abou-"
"I don't care for your excuses." Mikaela cut in sharply, digging in his heel
and earning a pained hiss. "You disobeyed my orders. That's all there is to
it."
Auriel got that look of interest again, as if the entire world were merely a
puzzle to be solved and then forgotten. "Since when do you care for humans-?"
He was making a habit of interrupting his guest. Before Auriel's brain could
even process the motion, Mikaela hooked his foot underneath his body and flung
him into the air with a sweeping upwards motion. When gravity pulled the other
other vampire back down, the heel of his shoe was waiting to greet his side and
viciously side kick him into the wall before his crumpled body could even meet
the floor again. His subordinate made a vampire-shaped crevice into the
drywall.  "You're not worth my hand." Mikaela said frigidly from where he'd
kicked the other vampire into the other side of the room. He hadn't taken a
step.
It was embarrassing to admit, but he learned that one from Krul.
"Stop it!" The human shrieked at him, finding its voice after a long stretch of
gawping like a moron. It had been silent for so long that Mikaela had wondered
if its mental faculties had finally shut down for good.
"Oh?" His eyebrows would have rose into his hairline, were he inclined to open
expressiveness. "You want mercy for him? This one is the trash that hurt you,
if I must remind you."
"Y-yeah but... I mean-!" It sputtered like the situation was so impossible it
couldn't even find words. "You'll kill him at this rate!"
This time he really did raise an eyebrow, taciturnity be damned. "You've fought
vampires before, haven't you?" Auriel was well-fed and well-trained. Just a few
blows, even from Mikaela, wouldn't be enough to end him.
The human picked up on his insinuations, looking annoying with his mild
condescension. "I know about the healing factor, dumbshit! But you're stronger
than him right?! So you could definitely kill him!"
"And why would you care? This is a vampire, your enemy." He said, callously
kicking a nearby armchair and sending it flying into the other vampire, the
loud crack of shattering wood and a pained groan punctuated the silence.
"I know that, but he's not even fighting back!"
"No. He knows better." Auriel is not a complete idiot. He knows that if he were
to dare raise a hand against Mikaela, his commanding officer would end him
without a second thought. It would be far more sensible to endure this beating
and live another day than die pathetically before a human audience.
Auriel cocked his head to the side, and the blood gushing from a wound on his
forehead dripped on the floor. He was watching their interaction with wide,
fluttering eyes that twitched in every direction with the frantic scamper of
uncontrolled thought processes. "You let the human call you derogatory names
and openly disrespect and question you. Interesting." He murmured through a wet
cough from his hole in the wall. He was injured internally.
"A livestock's words aren't worth rising to." Mikaela said without fanfare,
more for the human's benefit. He didn't care to respond to Auriel, too
disgusted with him at this point, but it was a good opportunity to eliminate
any conception that the human was spared injury out of any immunity.
It was, but it wouldn't do for it to know that.
"You're a real piece of shit, you know that?" The prisoner snarled, but it was
soundly ignored by its keeper, who was struck with an idea.
"I've decided what to do with you, Auriel. You know what you're going to do?
You're going to apologize to a human." He said, prowling closer to the other
vampire's tattered form. "You're going to look this human in the eye and give
whatever tattered scraps of pride you have left. An insulting gift even to
such a sorry creature." Yes. Humans are disdainful, lower life forms with an
incredibly short sight beyond their greedy desires. However, he promised the
human it would not come to harm, and Auriel betrayed that promise.
He wrinkled his nose at the blond in mild confusion, as if Mikaela suggested
the sky suddenly turned bright green or something equally puzzling. "Apologize?
You know I'm not good with humor, Captain." He pulled his bruised and beaten
body from his crater with a pained grunt, pieces of broken and bloodied drywall
clattering onto the floor. "I take jokes too literally, I'm afraid."
A soft breeze kissed the air and fabric rustled. It was the only preemptive
sign that Mikaela had spun in the air, white cape trailing behind him, and
round-house kicked the other vampire before it careened to another corner of
the room, smashing the armoire into splinters. "I do not make jokes." He said,
without missing a beat, not a hair out of place or a breathe out of a leisurely
tempo, even as he was physically beating and torturing insubordinate garbage.
Auriel was slower to come to his senses, clearly disoriented from brutal blow
after brutal blow. Cracked drywall, bloodstained floors, shattered furniture,
Mikaela's room had taken almost as severe a beating as the other vampire.
"I said stop!" The human said, sounding more desperate than before. "I'm sure
he gets it! He's not even fighting back!"
He turned towards it in vague interest. "...You're an odd one, human." He said
slowly. "Don't you want justice?"
"Well, I mean- Why? Why do you care so much?" The human looked terribly
confused. 
Mikaela's ears registered a pained groan behind him- Auriel picking himself up.
"Because I gave you my word you would not come to harm."
 The blond kneed underneath Auriel's chin right before the gawping human and
then kicked the side of his head, smashing his face into the ground and forcing
his gangly body into an awkward bow with the press of his heel into the back of
his neck. "I gave you my word that you would not be harmed. You are a repulsive
human. But I gave you a promise, and Auriel broke that promise on my behalf.
I'm not like you humans. Or him. I honor my promises. Even to a creature as
irritating as you. And on that note." He looked away from the human's wide
green eyes and hanging jaw; it looked as if the world shattered below its feet.
"I believe your recompense is still due." He said coldly to the crumpled heap
under his boot, putting cruel pressure on the vampire's neck.
Auriel was an oddity, but even he had some sense of self-preservation. His body
was beaten and tortured and wounded. He must understand by now that Mikaela
would truly kill him if he didn't obey this order. "You..." He twitched, brows
crinkling unhappily. "You have my apologies, human."
"You look it in the eye." Mikaela said coldly, pointedly digging his toe into
his cracked ribs. "I won't accept such a sorry excuse for an apology."
The other vampire hissed in open agony, shakily forcing his head up to lock red
eyes with stupefied green ones. "I said," he grunted, "I apologize, human." The
words were slow and forced, like Mikaela was pulling teeth for every word.
"Acceptable." He said, voice dispassionate and flat. Auriel only had time to
blink before his Captain's foot connected with his side and punted him through
the door, blowing the wood off its hinges and likely shattering whatever ribs
were still miraculously intact, to say nothing for the ones already damaged. He
followed the beaten vampire into the hallway. "I will see to your demotion and
official punishment." He said to the suffering pile of injury. "And I
will not forget this insult."
He left Auriel for a guard to find and deal with to fix his door, easily
bending the metal hinges back into place. It would probably squeak horribly,
but it would work again. He returned to a near brain-dead human. Unfamiliar
silence stretched between them, long and unsettlingly uncharacteristic; it's
green eyes were enormous and stared unblinkingly, clearly not knowing what to
make of this situation. "Don't misinterpret my actions for kindness." He said
before it could come to the wrong conclusions.
"...You made it apologize. To me." It sounded like it still couldn't believe
it.
"He needed to be punished, and apologizing to your kind is the utmost
humiliation for a vampire." He didn't like how defensive that sounded.
The human's mental faculties were not too far gone to take insult without due
return. "So you say, but I'm not the one from a supposedly "superior" race that
disobeyed some pretty simple orders." It looked entirely too pleased with
itself.
But he knew how to respond to that, knew all the buttons to push. "That only
means Auriel is lower than trash."
"Fuckwad."
 
===============================================================================
  
Mikaela had written a disciplinary report and submitted it to the general
office, where it would be processed and then carried out by the disciplinary
division. He would personally see to Auriel's punishment, but he had more
pressing matters to attend. Namely damage control.
He didn't feel anything close to remorse or guilt, but Mikaela couldn't rest
peacefully with his integrity abused like this. He wasn't lying when he said
his word was his bond; he made a promise, and thanks to his own incompetence,
it was broken in his absence. If he walked the tightrope carefully, he could
compensate the human for a short period without jeopardizing what control he
had left.
It was easier to feel comfortable with it when the human was so cooperative. It
was oddly quiet and pliant, even as Mikaela unshackled it and escorted it into
his private bathroom. It didn't even try to headbutt him, though it tripped and
fell its face once. Probably due to the atrophy and weakness that built up from
nearly two weeks of squatting in the same place.
He locked the door, deposited the change of clothes in his arms on the counter,
and turned the tap on the exquisite claw tub. "Take your bath." He inclined his
head towards the building water. "I meant it when I said you were disgusting."
Its face turned a brilliant, outraged shade of scarlet."You must be joking." It
sputtered indignantly. "I am not taking a bath in front of you, you creep!"
He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "Don't flatter your ego, human. You have
nothing that holds my interest."
It held its arms up defensively, as if they could stop Mikaela. "That's not the
point you piece of shit!"
"Get in or I'll throw you in and scrub you myself. Like a little dog." He
switched off the water before the tub could overflow.
"Can you at least not watch?!"
"...I will turn around." He conceded. "You're physically incapable of harming
me with anything in this room anyways." He added just as a reminder in case the
remarkably stupid human got any cute ideas. If it did, he would toss it into
the tub and make this evening as painful as possible. He turned his back and
crossed his arms, getting acquainted with the patterns in the bathroom door's
wood.
"I don't hear the sound of you taking a bath." He said warningly, when he
didn't hear it move.
"I'm on it you impatient bastard!" Mikaela's ears could pick up the sound of
buttons popping and fabric rustling. The human must have realized it didn't
have much a choice in the matter and probably wanted a bath anyways. Though the
fact that Mikaela is even letting it bathe, let alone bathe itself, is a
privilege he was certain none of his other peers would grant. A splash signaled
it settling into the water. Mikaela would give it fifteen minutes before he
pulled it out.
A long and occupied silence filled the room, interrupted only by the occasional
sound of water dripping and swashing and slick scrubbing noises. Mikaela's nose
could pick up the faint smell of scented soap. "You know, they served the
nastiest curry at the army cafeteria..."
"I... What?" Mikaela asked, caught off guard by the unexpected and, frankly,
non-sequitur dialogue.
"The curry! Cur-ry!" It sounded out.  "Do you know what curry is?" He did not,
but it didn't wait for a response anyhow. "It's really fuckin' good. Kind of
like a stew or something, with meat and carrots and potatoes in sauce poured
over rice, some spices... I dunno, it's hard to describe to someone who doesn't
eat. But, like I said, it's really fuckin' good." It was suddenly talking to
him, the human. Whereas before it did everything it could to ignore or insult
Mikaela's existence, now it was absentmindedly rambling at him and not even
caring for a response or some semblance of conversation. As tough as it liked
to act, the events that occurred while Mikaela was gone must have effected it
in some way and it's previously compliant behavior suddenly made more sense,
but also raised more questions. He didn't think he could understand its thought
processes.
He turned around, mildly concerned with the out of character behavior but
feeling uncomfortable with breaking his own promise. He could only thinly
justify himself with the fact that he wasn't really watching and that wasn't
what he promised anyways. He promised to turn around, not that he would do so
the whole time. Still, ultimately he was tasked with watching over the human,
and if it was acting odd then he was obligated to check on it.
The human didn't notice anyways; it was staring at the bathroom tile as if the
blank patches on the wall held all the answers to life's questions, except its
eyes were blank and unfocused. "But man, the curry the army cooks served was
shitty. None of the vegetables were chopped the same size, so some chunks were
raw while the smaller slices were overcooked. The meat was super stringy and
grisly too, definitely dried military rations." It suddenly chuckled, the sound
quiet and subdued. "I remember tossing a bowl in Kimizuki's face. Nasty shit's
better served tossed on his annoying face than on my plate anyways."
There was a long pause of silence. The human seemed to be contemplating,
gathering its thoughts, but it was awkward for Mikaela, who was uncomfortable
with this open dialogue. He preferred the human shrieking obscenities at him.
He preferred the human quiet. It was easier to write off that way. "Kimizuki's
such an asshole. Did I ever tell you about my squad?"
That's enough. He should stop this. It's just pointless babble and a waste of
his time.
"Like I said, Kimizuki's the squad's four-eyed asshole. Always bitching at me
because he thinks he knows better, because his grades are better and crap.
Whatever. I still kick his ass during spars." It said smugly, with a satisfied
look, before settling into something fondly reminiscent. "But he has my back in
a fight and he cares about his sister, so I guess he's okay. And then there's
Mitsuba. She rode my ass pretty hard too, when we first met, but that was only
because she was worried about everyone. Always wanted to make sure everyone
made it out in one piece and got pissed whenever I rushed ahead or broke
formation. I can respect that. And she's got this giant axe bigger than me.
It's pretty awesome, not gonna lie."
Mikaela didn't want to hear about his human friends, didn't want personalities
and quirks and faces applied to the disposable paper cutouts in his mind.
Didn't want to recognize that squad of humans as anything more than just
another group among the faceless masses to fight and conquer.
"So our archer, Yoichi, is like a human cupcake or something. He's seriously
the nicest guy I've ever met, so it's always surprising to see him whip out a
demon bow and kick ass with it. And our leader, Shinoa. I could write an essay
on how much she pisses me off, and it would be even longer than Kimizuki's.
She's always messing with me and I wouldn't be surprised if she can smell my
failures, just so she can point them out whenever they happen. But she's really
smart and even if she annoys the hell out of me, she's had my back since the
day we met. And she's got a badass scythe."
There was another long pause of silence. It pressed its face into its knees and
curled up. It looked very small in the water like that. "Did you hurt those
people?" It asked, voice throaty.
It would better to lie to it. "No." Mikaela said, against his better judgement.
It would be better to lie and say he picked each and every last member of his
little human family apart by their little limbs. That the enjoyed gorging on
their blood. He didn't. The four man squad had barely escaped thanks to the
sacrifice of their superiors, who practically threw themselves onto his sword
to allow their juniors to escape. Those four were likely the sole survivors of
that little expedition; it was a slaughter of far more experienced and far more
strategically valuable men. Foolish.
"...I miss them." It rasped, but its body visibly relaxed at a single word from
Mikaela. That should have been reassuring, should have made him feel confident
in his control. It didn't.
Mikaela didn't know he left until he heard the door slamming behind his back.
He barricaded the bathroom door shut with the remains of his armoire and left
as fast as his feet would take him.
All of this was foolish.
Chapter End Notes
     The moral of this chapter is, "Don't fuck with Yuu-chan." UwU
     For those of you who are wondering why Yuu-chan couldn't stomach
     Auriel's torture, even though he's the one that hurt him, even though
     he's a vampire, it's because our cinnamon roll is a kind person.
     Mikaela said it himself, that Yuu-chan is very kind, almost too kind
     for the hard world of OnS. And that it's why Yuu-chan is easily
     deceived. Which is why I personally believe that, even though he
     hates vampires with an almost fanatical passion, Yuu-chan wouldn't be
     able to stomach cold-blooded torture. Especially if they aren't even
     fighting back.
     And before you guys get any pervy ideas, it would NOT have been sexy
     bath times if Mika had to wash Yuu-chan. He'd be dunking him and
     holding him underwater for periods of time, getting soap in his eyes
     and not giving a shit, and practically scalping him because he would
     rake through his hair to get the tangles out. Not fun. ):
     ALSO NOTICE I WAITED UNTIL THE VERY LAST MINUTE TO REASSURE YOU GUYS
     THE SHINOA SQUAD IS ALIVE TROLOLOL
***** Hydrangea *****
Chapter Summary
     So this chapter is a little shorter than the last one, sorry! But
     it's an important bridge to lead up to the events of chapter 6
     forgive meee ;u;
     But that aside- HOW DID I DO THIS IN TWO DAYS?! ASBKJHASL;GS
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
"Do you know much about curry, Rene?" Mikaela asked while Lacus was changing.
Lacus was similar to Chess in his impulsiveness and lack of discretion. If
Mikaela asked while he was here, Lacus would be buzzing with questions and it
would be impossible to gather information.
The other vampire gave him an odd look. "Curry? That's a human food."
"Yes."
"Why do you ask, sir?"
"No particular reason." He said, attempting to brush the question off. His lack
of a solid answer that didn't make him sound like he was going soft made him
uncomfortable. He knew his insistence on the value of his word was already an
oddity among vampires, but the fact that this would even extend to a lowly
human would be outright scandalous.
"Is this about the human you're rumored to be keeping?" Vampires live in such a
small, stagnant world that any bit of news was thoroughly processed through the
gossip machine. "You shouldn't pay any attention to it."
"It's difficult not to when my job is to care for it." Mikaela pointed out.
"Do you worry for its mental state? That doesn't seem like it'd be something
that's important for you to worry about. You just have to keep it alive,
right?"
He shook his head. "Krul said no harm was to come to it. I assume she'd like it
as close to fit condition as possible. I doubt she'd be pleased with madness."
Rene was easy to talk to. He was straightforward, cared for small talk and
pleasantries as much as Mikaela, and was very discreet.
"That sounds like a pain." Rene muttered like the mere thought of taking on
Mikaela's task could drain his energy. "I've been a vampire even longer than
you, so I wouldn't know anything about human foods. I'd try the grand library,
since it has a book on virtually any subject." The black-haired vampire
shrugged. "When you find out more, you can go to Genevieve and Marco about it."
"I'll try the library." He inclined his head in gratitude. "Thank you for your
assistance." Rene was one of the few people Mikaela could openly thank for
anything.
"Sir, just be careful if you decide to do anything. It's not a pet, so don't
let it think you're spoiling it."
"I have considered that."
The grand library was a massive collection of eclectic knowledge, but Mikaela
almost didn't believe there'd be a book on human foods. But as he discovered
while searching for information on curry, cooking was a human task so
ridiculously complex in comparison to drinking blood that Mikaela was baffled
that they did it for three meals a day. Each dish, no matter how small or
innocuous, required multiple, concise steps that absolutely must be performed
in a certain order. Every ingredient had to be prepared a specific way, every
ingredient had to be added in a specific amount, every temperature had to be a
specific heat, every phase had a specific tool, and everything was timed down
to the specific minute. However, just because it was complex didn't mean it was
complicated. Because every step was so detailed and specific, all one had to do
was follow the instructions to the letter and their dish would come out fine.
Still, it was far more trouble than Mikaela could ever see any worth for,
especially compared to the simplicity of drinking blood.
The human children gave him a wide berth as he searched for a curry recipe,
feeling utterly ridiculous and mildly ashamed, but at the same time knowing he
wouldn't be able to rest until he did this. It was a personality quirk that
even he wouldn't understand about himself if not for the scraps of memory he
still retained about his early life.
It took a while, because his human prisoner gave poor descriptions as to the
nature of curry, but Mikaela was a meticulous and diligent sort, so he
naturally found it after an hour of combing through the library. He read over
the recipe to find that it had grossly oversimplified the makeup of the dish;
he counted no less than twenty ingredients, though he was reassured to see
that most were available to him from the fields and processing plants. He might
have to do without some of the missing miscellaneous spices. 
There was a small, simple kitchen area in the castle solely there for the few
pets allowed fresh meals, and the only staff were two vampires that knew enough
about cooking to prepare meals and were low-class enough to swallow the
humiliating position that technically served humans, even at the behest of
Nobles.
"You sure it's a good idea to spoil it, sir? Isn't it supposed to be a captive?
It's not exactly a pet..." Genevieve trailed off, pursing her red lips in
concern. Rene had asked almost exactly the same question, and it was enough to
make him rethink this idea for a minute. True, showing even the smallest of
kindness would probably be detrimental to the control and dominance his
position demands, but Mikaela also knew himself well. He wouldn't be able to
focus with the past incident hanging over his head, so this was definitely
something he had to do. 
"I am aware of that," he said before adding, "and I have my own plans to
address those concerns." Because even with his personality quirks, the other
vampires were right. He couldn't be toogenerous about this, and the
thought prompted a plan to formulate in his mind.
"See that Vivi? Captain Shindou knows what he's doing." Marco drawled,
absentmindedly tugging on a brown curl while he browsed through their stock of
ingredients. "Let's not question our betters and stick to our jobs, yeah?"
Marco and Genevieve were unique in their contentment with their station because
any other vampire would be seething with humiliation. For various reasons that
were their own, they grew to be comfortable with such a demeaning station and
even seemed to find some amount of satisfaction in their work. After looking at
human recipes, Mikaela certainly had a newfound respect for the complexity of
their job on top of being unable to taste their food for quality.
"Yeah sure." The woman sighed. They made an interesting combination of
personalities and appearances. Genevieve was very tall for a woman and had a
deceptively slender form, while Marco was slightly short for a man at his
physical age of twenty-something and had a very fit, stocky physique with broad
shoulders and thick limbs. Genevieve was meticulous, organized, and prone to
stress, while Marco was somewhat lazy but also calm and thoughtful. Mikaela
didn't know them well, having virtually no reason to ever visit this area of
the castle, but the two seemed to get along well. "Come back in about an hour,
Captain. The recipe says an hour-and-a-half, but the two of us together can get
it done faster."
 
===============================================================================
 
That evening, Mikaela found that curry looked... disgusting. There wasn't any
other way he could describe it. The brown sauce was an ugly color and appeared
to have a lumpy, inconsistent texture, not at all like the silky and smooth
feel of warm blood. The chunks of vegetables and meat were unappetizing for
their own various reasons that made him a little sick to think much more about.
Suffice to say, he'd long since forgotten the appeal food could ever have to
him. His respect for Genevieve and Marco and their ability to stomach working
with human food so often rose significantly.
When he came to feed it, the door to his bedroom squealed like he thought it
would, but he was glad it was functional. The rest of the room, however, still
looked like the aftermath of a small war. It would sound disgraceful or
scandalous to some of the more frivolous nobles, but Mikaela wasn't one to care
for material possessions and would honestly be fine staying in his room in this
state. But for now, it was still suitable to host the human captive.
He toed the broken chunks of furniture he used to barricade the door aside and
entered the bathroom. The human was in the far corner of the room and stood
abruptly when it saw him come in. "So..." It said warily, dressed in the black
button-up and white slacks of the guard uniform. The only clothes for humans in
the vampire city were the uniforms for the child livestock, and the captive was
far beyond that size. "What now?"
He answered by picking it up by the collar and forcibly carrying it back to its
corner, wrestling with its squirming body and swinging fists all the way. The
gap in their strength was undeniable, and it was easy, though no less
exasperating, to manhandle the human back into its chains.
"I'm here to feed you." He said over the clink of manacles clamping shut.
"Seriously? I thought we were over this shit!" It snarled, with a no small
amount of horror and humiliation.
"Don't be presumptuous. I allowed you to feed yourself for the past couple of
days because of circumstances." He dismissed.
"Fuck that! I'm not eating anything from your gross hands!"
"Is that so?" He asked tonelessly, "Not even this?" Gloved hands expertly
unwrapped the cloth bundling the food container of curry. When Mikaela popped
the lid off, the distasteful stench of curry wafted through the air, inciting a
pale and shell-shocked look from the human.
"This is that food you like, isn't it?" He tilted the container just slightly
for it to see the food it contained. Its eyes were gigantic, the whites
threatening to swallow deep green, like it was witnessing something impossible
and was having difficulty comprehending the reality before it. He picked up a
chunk of potato. "This will be your only chance to have it."
"You... you're horrible..." It muttered quietly. "Why would you...?"
"As I said, recompense will be paid." He said, uncomfortable with the emotions
growing on its face. He tried to rile it up again; its anger was irritating but
much easier to handle than its subdued moments. "However, don't forget our
positions. I am in no way obligated to livestock."
It was like it couldn't even hear him. "Y-you really..." It said, not even
registering that he was speaking to it, just staring at the container of food
like it was some kind of oasis. The human took a long look at the food, and
then slowly looked at Mikaela with a face twisted as if it were physically
wounded. He was ready to retract his offer, fully expecting it to still resist,
but then it timidly opened its mouth, bringing its lips to the tips of his
finger and nervously taking the morsel into its mouth. “Good.” Mikaela managed
to say, quietly and after a brief moment of staring at it disbelievingly. He
picked up a strip of carrot before it could forget this newfound obedience.
“Keep going.”
It ate. It ate every last handful of the rice, meat, and vegetables he picked
out, straight from Mikaela’s palm, soft lips brushing against the fabric of his
glove, little pink tongue occasionally poking out to catch more, blunt teeth
occasionally grazing the surface. It began to make little noises, small bursts
of sound crooned in the back of its throat. He had a hard time placing the
nature of the sound until something wet and round fell on his wrist. And still,
it kept eating. Vigorously, even.
He ignored the clear little droplets on his wrist.
When the curry was gone it stared painfully at the floor, a look of utter
agony on its face. “Don’t look so pitiful.” He said, unsettled. “You made the
right decision. Here.” When he brought the water nozzle to its lips, it looked
surprised.
“I told you. My actions are the results of yours. You did your part, do it
again and we won’t have to resort to the other method.” He learned his lesson
from the first time; Mikaela now understood to slowly tilt the bottle upwards.
The water flowed as a gentle trickle and allowed the human to suckle slowly
without choking.
He took the water away and gave it back in regularly intervals to allow the
human to breathe. When the water was finished, he picked up the containers and
stacked them. The human's voice interrupted him.
"You know... that was completely different It was different than-" It suddenly
stopped, seeming to choke on the words. "The sauce didn't have the same flavor,
but the meat was more tender..." It said, its phrasing nonchalant, but voice
tellingly hoarse. "Thank you."
He nearly dropped the containers. "I didn't do it for the sake of kindness." He
said, quickly trying to fix this before it got too far. "Your gratitude is
meaningless to me."
It glared at a vague point in the distance, pointedly not looking at him.
"Yeah, yeah, whatever. I'll thank you if I wanna thank you, thanks." Even while
thanking him it managed to sound surly and defiant. He was almost amazed with
that level of obstinacy.
Mikaela stared at the back of its head with no small amount of incredulousness.
He had threatened, tortured, and demeaned it for the better part of two weeks,
but one small and insignificant show that resembled kindness suddenly made it
pleasant and obedient enough to feed from him. Unbelievable. 
"So seriously, um... what is your name?" It asked, glaring at the floor,
obviously still bothered by its first show of submission.
Mikaela inwardly debated the repercussions of entertaining the question, and
ultimately decided humoring it would be a harmless reward for its cooperation.
"Mikaela." He said.
"Mi-KA-Eh-RA?" It stumbled over his foreign name. "That name is weird. And
hard. I'll call you 'Mika' instead."
"You will not-"
It had the nerve to cut him off. "I'm Yuuichirou. Hyakuya Yuuichirou."
"I don't care." He said coldly, pushing away this line of dialogue as hard as
he could.
It just shrugged. "Just thought I'd tell you."
He didn't know what to make of that.
He came back the next day and kneeled down, holding out his handful of plain
rice and expecting another fight to get it to feed like this, especially since
it wasn't a favorite dish. To his genuine shock, it leaned forward and
unhesitatingly began to nibble from his palm. He watched it obediently feed
with the increasingly nagging feeling that something was amiss. But it was
quiet and didn't try anything for the next two days. It didn't even mouth off
to him. He settled into an easy routine, wondering when Krul was going to do
whatever it was she had planned.
Mikaela should have known better.  
Chapter End Notes
     Guys I dunno what is up with me, but the mental image of Yuu-chan
     nibbling his food out of Mika's hand like a pet kitten makes me HNGG.
     Like, am I the only one?! So for those of you worried about how nice
     he's being... don't be. For one, he's not nearly warmed up enough for
     the Mikayuu to start, and secondly, his determination to keep this
     brand of integrity is due to experiences that will be explained
     later.
     And just so you know, a gigantic library of random knowledge is, in
     fact, canon. As seen in the expanded light novels, Mika's, I think,
     Ferid likes to watch the kids in the city peruse the library; he
     likes watching what humans are interested in.
     ((PS I ship Genevieve and Marco so what are they? GeneMar?? GeneCo??
     MarGene?? Marnevieve?? Lord help me I am human trash.))
***** Rhododendron *****
Chapter Summary
     So ah... reader discretion is advised. Nothing brutal happens here
     but... read with caution, okay?
     So how many of you caught that Yuu-chan was crying while he ate the
     curry? I purposely made it subtle to reinforce just how uncomfortable
     Mikaela was with acknowledging Yuu-chan's more vulnerable emotions.
     And on that note- BSAKJFH;wlahegadADGRG HOW DID I DO THIS IN ANOTHER
     TWO DAYS WHAT EVEN AM I-
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
Krul was utterly impassive, a stoic and inscrutable stone wall of
inexpressiveness. She didn't look angry, not really, but the gravity of her
demeanor set Mikaela on edge. "How did we come this close to catastrophe?" This
was not something that could be overlooked or ignored by her. 
"I-," He clenched his hands around his crossed knees, feeling trapped in the
chair, pinned by the queen's piercing stare. "I underestimated it."
"Explain yourself, Mikaela. This is a serious matter, and I want to know how it
happened." She said, resting her cheek into a small palm.
He quelled the instinct to wince. "The human acquired a pin off of Auriel's
robes."
"According to the disciplinary report you submitted to the court, you found
Auriel Crofton to be guilty of insubordination." She frowned, voice dropping
into an low and unhappy drone. "Namely, beating the human against both your
and, indirectly, my orders."
"Yes." He confirmed after a beat. "It seems a thin metal pin popped off when I
punished him."
"And how did the human get a hold of it?"
Mikaela already knew the answer to that. It was such a small, innocuous moment;
he'd nearly completely forgotten about it until hindsight, when everything fell
into place. "The human tripped on the way to the bathroom. I'd assumed it was
due to weakness and atrophy from remaining stationary for over a week. I
believe now that it did so purposely to sneak the pin from the ground."
There was a beat of silence. "On the way to the.... bathroom?" Krul asked, an
eyebrow almost disappearing into her hairline. "You can't mean to wash it?"
"...It was disgusting."
"It's a human." She spoke like the fact was obvious.
"No I meant," he pushed aside the humiliation at how childish this was going to
sound. "...smelly."
She pressed a fist into her mouth and he knew she was suppressing laughing her
lungs out at him for what would most certainly be the next uncountable
number in his lifespan. She was at least trying to keep a veneer of
seriousness, even when he managed to amuse her. "So you gave it a bath? Like a
little kitty?"
He narrowed his eyes at her teasing, thoroughly unamused. "There is nothing
enjoyable about interacting with that walking headache on any level." It's
annoying, repulsive, obnoxious, and mind-bogglingly obstinate, and when it's
none of those things it's confusing.
"All jokes aside, while it would have been better to just let it wallow in its
own filth for the purpose of tearing down its pride, you were in the right to
bathe it."
"I... was?" He asked, not expecting Krul's approval at all.
"Not many vampires are familiar enough with humans to know this, but
cleanliness is important to their health. They could die from infection if they
get too filthy."
"That is so..." High maintenance. The amount of things humans require just to
survive is so extensive it's a wonder such a fragile species thrived for so
long on their own.
She smirked. "Needy? Indeed. I was going to warn you about it by tomorrow. I
certainly wouldn't have expected you, of all people, to do something so
troublesome without my prompting." Mikaela was well known for his frosty
demeanor that didn't warm up under any circumstances, even to other vampires.
"As I said, it was disgusting. I couldn't tolerate the stench."
"Understandable. What interests me, though, are your actions upon discovering
Auriel's disobedience."
"I punished insubordination. That's not unusual for a commanding officer." He
said, attempting to dodge this line of questioning.
Krul would have none of that. "No," She agreed, "but you did so before the
human. Why is that? You could have easily confronted Auriel anywhere else.
Instead, you went out of your way to drag him back to the captive."
This was going to be uncomfortable to explain. "I made him apologize. To the
human." He was aware of how ridiculous he sounded.
The revelation genuinely caught Krul off guard. "A-Apologize?"
"Not for the human's sake," he hurriedly explained before she could draw
incorrect conclusions, "I did it because it would humiliate Auriel much more
than punishment in privacy, or even before other vampires."
"You are a nasty one when you want to be, aren't you?" She said, radiating
pride and amusement. "Though I can't say I wholly approve. It could easily
mistake that for softness or kindness."
"I took care to explain my actions as not for its benefit." He said,
uncomfortable with knowledge that, in order to sound credible, he had to omit
the fact his rejection did literally nothing to deter the human both at the
time of Auriel's punishment and yesterday.
"Well, you're full of surprises." She sighed wryly. "Is there anything else you
should share?"
"Nothing of note." He said, conveniently neglecting to mention his actions from
the previous day. Mikaela was not a fool, and neither was his progenitor. Krul
would find out about the curry one way or another, most likely via word-of-
mouth. As he often noted, vampire idle conversation boiled down to little more
than gossip exchange. When lives stretched on for this long, whatever was of
interest was passed around eagerly. They were worse than the hypothetical
busybody housewives.
Eventually she'll find out and will likely laugh at him like she always does
when she catches him in a lie. Any of his attempts to pull the wool over her
eyes were met with her amusement. Like a naughty child.
And the way she stared at him said she knew exactly what was going on in his
head. "If you say so." She hummed, willing to humor him for now. "But I hope
you know how serious this is. Do you know how dangerous it was for that human,
outside of your protection? If anyone other than Crowley had found it, I doubt
it would have survived the encounter, knowing its personality."
He understood that better than anyone. Even he was occasionally tempted to
wring its fragile little neck like a towel. But Krul's words brought up an
important topic constantly buzzing in the forefront of his mind. "I know that,
but why do you care so much? What's so important about it that we're going
through this much trouble for it?"
She leaned back in her throne, studying Mikaela with keen red eyes, assessing
him for some unknown measurement of some unknown quality. "I'll think about
sharing that at a later point. Maybe when the time is nearer."
"The time for what?" He was growing impatient with her continuous non-answers.
"Patience." She chided like he was a small child. "Just follow orders for now.
You'll get your answers if you can do your job until it's time."
"I'll hold you to that." He warned. He was not suffering that infuriating
human's kicking, screaming, and familiarity to the point of flagrancy for no
adequately explained motive.
"Only if you accomplish your task." She spoke to her progeny like a teacher to
a student, patient and firm. "That means taking control, Mikaela. Put your foot
down and make it learn who its current master is. As far as it should know, you
can and will do whatever you please with it."
That was where he failed. Mikaela had painted himself as someone uncompromising
and commanding, yet he turned around and contradicted that with his actions the
day before by paying mind to its preferences and characteristics. 
"Teach it that escape attempts will not be tolerated."
He left the throne room deep in thought and not wishing to be disturbed while
in such a foul mood.
"My, my, what a mess."
So of course he heard the one slimy voice he never wanted to ooze into his ear.
"What do you want, Bathory?" He said coldly to the other noble, who was
languidly leaning on a wall before him.
"On your guard the moment you see me? You wound me, Mikaela." Ferid grinned
smugly, clearly not at all bothered by Mikaela's clear displeasure at his mere
presence.
"Go away."
"Now what could put cute little Mikaela into such a sour mood?" The silver
haired noble pretended to think with a mockingly theatrical flourish.  "Ah yes.
A subordinate you mistakenly trusted with the little angel's safety recently
betrayed you."
If cold glares could kill, Ferid would be ash in a frosty wind. "You certainly
have idle time to nose into affairs that don't concern you."
"Au contraire!" He said cheerfully, all too gleeful to annoy Mikaela in every
conceivable way. "I happen to be very interested in that precious little bundle
of joy you have locked up in your bedroom. I and others."
Interested.
I and others.
Wait.
"...You know, Krul's personal interest in keeping the human alive was not very
common knowledge, initially. The few people that knew I took a human assumed it
was to be my pet. It wasn't until I had to report Auriel's insubordination that
word got out that I was keeping an important captive."
The pieces connected so quickly that it was almost comical.
"I wonder how Auriel found out about the human's importance?"
"Well, that is quite a puzzle, isn't it?" Ferid hummed. The bastard had the
nerve to act innocent.
As a liquid blur of white and black, Mikaela smashed his foot into a nearby
sitting chair and sent it flying towards the other vampire's smug face. He was
not surprised but no less disappointed to the see Ferid dodge the soaring
furniture with a simple tilt of his body. "You were the only one who knew the
whole truth from the beginning, youbastard. That means there are only three
possible leaks."
"Ah, Mikaela, no need to be so angry just because you failed-"
He cut him off with the only solid threat and leverage he had. "Don't forget,
Ferid. The Queen specifically chose me as its keeper. I don't think she'd be
pleased to learn what you've done."
"And yet you've allowed it to attempt escape. You truly dropped the ball on
this, didn't you?" The silver-haired bastard said gleefully, a self-
satisfied smirk curling out while indirectly admitting his guilt. It heated
Mikaela's fury even hotter. "Are you quite sure you're up to task? Perhaps I
might relieve you of it?"
"I'm clearly uninterested in your continued presence, Bathory." He said,
pointedly walking past the unaffected noble, who still had an unfettered smile
graced on his infuriating face.
Mikaela was tempted to blurt that the other noble could damn well take the
irritating creature, just so he could laugh at the sight of a pestered Ferid.
Inflicting a headache onto the bastard would be the first present he could ever
want in decades. But Ferid wouldn't suffer its annoyances Mikaela did. He would
torture the human in any conceivable way that wouldn't technically cross Krul's
decree that it not meet physical harm.
And the queen knew that. It's why she chose her progeny. Mikaela's assignment
was protecting the human as much from other vampires as he was protecting it
from itself.
Just when he thought he was free of the poisonous, revolting presence, Ferid
had to get one last little word in. "Oh, and don't think I don't know about the
curry, Mikaela. Who knew our cold-hearted vampire prince could be so cute?"
Of course the bastard knows. Of course.
 
===============================================================================
  
He returned to it with an unparalleled fury exacerbated by Ferid's pestering,
only tightly contained by the knowledge that it's escape attempt failed. What
made Mikaela so angry about this was that this was more than arguing, more than
being an insufferable pest, and more than humiliating him before the entirety
of his peers. This could have gotten it killed. This has given Ferid more
leverage against him. Most frustratingly of all, this was a slap in the face
against all of his efforts thus far. The open result of his failures all laid
out before him bothered him the most.
If he wasn't so angry, he would be somewhat impressed with the level of
planning he hadn't thought capable of the human. It only fed from him to appear
docile, and even cried to appear more vulnerable and broken.
 He slammed the door open to its cell, the loud crash of the iron door slamming
into the stone wall loudly clamoring in the room with a deafening echo. The
human startled, jumping against the cold wall behind its back.
He didn't say a word, cold and silent as a dead winter, which clearly unnerved
it enough to prompt talking. "So you're back again?" He responded by wrenching
it out of its manacles and tossing its bound form over his shoulder in a repeat
of their first day together. "O-Oi!"
Mounting fury buzzed in his ear like a horde of angry hornets, lashing out at
every corner of his mind and boiling over as he marched it back to his bedroom.
When the door came into sight he threw it open and kicked it shut over the
indignant howling over the most enraging creature to have ever breathed. All of
his anger mounted into a peak and in response he threw it across the room as
hard as he could. The only reason it didn't land against the wall with a bone-
shattering impact is because he threw it on the bed. It squeaked as it bounced
up almost a foot in the air, the bed groaning dangerously. He almost broke it.
"This," he said coldly, pouring all of his fury into his hard gaze, "is
unacceptable." His eyes cut into the human like a scalpel. It swallowed
nervously, pulling on its sleeve.
A sleeve. Another thing the human took for granted. There was a reason it was
wearing the black button-up and white slacks of the guard uniform. There was a
reason there was no clothing in the size of its age group, despite other nobles
having pets around its age.
'The human still has it's pride. It's dignity. So take it away.'
He was on it immediately, using his vampiric speed to blur into nothingness and
suddenly reappear on the bed, straddling its hips. "What the fuck-?!" He cut it
off with a firm slap, holding back his strength with phenomenal willpower. He
doubted Krul would count that little tap as genuine physical harm. It looked
floored. Despite weeks of tormenting it in various ways and enduring its
disrespect, Mikaela had never once laid a hand on it since their first meeting.
Somewhere along the lines it had grown to somewhat trust in that. Not anymore.
'As far as it should know, you can and will do whatever you please with it.'
Pets aren't allowed clothes. They were never allowed clothes.
Rip.
A bomb going off wouldn't have been able to overshadow the sound of fabric
ripping and filling their ears. "You will be still and silent." He said, voice
sharp and cold like splinters of ice, easily ripping the black shirt into
scraps and tossing it into a corner.
"Wh-what are you-!" It choked, thrashing beneath Mikaela's unyielding weight.
"N-No! Stop it!" It demanded furiously, summoning its anger into a snarling
growl.
Until his hands brushed the waist of its pants. "I said stop!" Horrified fear
wrapped its voice like a pale shroud, breaking up its voice and raising the
pitch into a panicked squeal. For the first time since their tumultuous
meeting, he was genuinely frightening it.
The scream of more fabric tearing was like a gunshot in the room. Mikaela
easily shredded the white material of its pants and ripped them away,
completely baring the smaller body pinned beneath him.
"No!" It twisted and writhed like little snake, so desperate to wriggle away it
couldn't remember that fighting Mikaela's grasp on its hips was useless; the
gap in strength between a vampire and human was insurmountable. It was
breathing heavily, face buried into the mattress and a shade of brilliant
scarlet with shame and humiliation. Its naked body was writhing and shuddering
beneath hi-
He removed himself before things escalated. It was bucking and squirming a
little too close to his center.
"I knew it." The human spat, curling up into a defensive little ball, looking
tiny and afraid while trying to preserve its modesty. "You're sick. You're a
sick fuck!"
They'd gone over this before. "I don't feel anything for your body." Mikaela
wasn't attracted to humans. In all his years of existence, he'd never been with
one out of disgust for the species. Sleeping with a human would be no different
than sleeping with a pig. He only felt the need to remove himself from their
position because he didn't want it to brush against him.
"Could have fooled me, you pervert."
He pinched the bridge of his nose and tried to explain this one more time to an
extraordinarily slow human. "You tried to escape. This will ensure you won't
try again." Mikaela inclined his head towards the door. "But by all means, bare
your body to the entire castle population."
"You fucking monster." It hissed, still curled into an awkward position to hide
its body from Mikaela's eyes. It only served to remind him how young it was. He
has long since stopped being conscious of his own form.
He continued like it hadn't said anything. "You can stay on the bed. I won't
chain you to the wall. Somehow, I get the feeling you won't want to leave this
room." Besides, it was still tightly bound by the rope around its wrists. He
wrenched the blankets from underneath it's shivering body to ensure it couldn't
have any modesty. "I'll be taking these with me."
He left with a bundle of blankets in his arms and its terrified cries rattling
in his head. He had terrorized and bullied the human tasked under his care.
Mikaela felt justified, like this was something due to the little headache for
all the trouble it caused him, but he couldn't fight the sick feeling plaguing
his stomach at the pleasure he recalled feeling in putting the annoyance in its
place.
Chapter End Notes
     For those of you who were wondering if you'd gone insane, no, you
     haven't. A little after I posted chapter 5 I realized I'd forgotten
     the important plot detail of Yuu-chan tripping on the way to the
     bathroom. It must have accidentally got cut out during editing. I
     added it back in, but not before some people already read the
     chapter. I'm very sorry if anyone was confused!
     And as a side note, the last two chapters have been short and a
     little boring, I know, but I plan for chapter 7 to pay off what these
     last two have been building up, and it looks like it might be longer
     than this one, so please look forward to it! eue
***** Peony *****
Chapter Summary
     Stripping your human captive naked in an underground city has
     consequences of its own.
Chapter Notes
     I think that this chapter alone will make up for the last two short
     and boring chapters, hopefully. ;u;
     I have NEVEr been more nervous about posting a chapter than THIS one.
     Holy god.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
The next two days were difficult ones. It was guarded and obstinate against
nearly every order he gave it. The first day it even tried rolling off the bed
to get away from him. To say he was beyond the realm of infuriated was to
understate Mikaela's anger. The more he tightened his grip, the harder it
fought, but the few concessions he gave encouraged it towards rebellion. It
felt as if no matter what route he took, the creature would continue to resist
him. The only true weakness he knew of, one that would always drive it into a
panic, was sexuality, but Mikaela was not the kind of garbage that took
advantage of prisoners. The helplessness of the situation and being constantly
blindsided by such a simple creature frustrated him.
However, it was the second of those two days when things became strange.
"What's wrong with you?" He raised an eyebrow at the little ball of defensive
human curled onto his bed. It was clutching its head and squeezing its eyes
tightly shut.
"Fuck off. I'm not in the mood for your shit, vampire." It spat, still curled
up and cradling its head in its hands.
Well, it was obviously fine if it had the strength to curse at him. "Care to
eat?" He held up a container of rice picking up a small pinch with his fingers,
despite already knowing the answer.
"Like hell." It growled, still tucked away as if it could hide its body from
his eyes.
Well, so be it. He was disappointed with this regression, just when he thought
he was getting it to submit to his will, but it was ultimately no loss of
Mikaela's other than some extra time. He learned from experience now that if he
didn't pin it down it would just roll away like a bizarre runaway log. He
easily flipped it onto its back and straddled it, and like always, it began
thrashing and protesting. He knew that if its hands weren't bound it would be
pounding him with its little fists like it could hurt him. As it stands, all it
could really do was kick uselessly in the air to try and throw him off.
He could tie it to its chains in the corner, but he found physically
restraining it by hand unnerved it more. He mercilessly shoved its meal down
its throat with no preamble and little mind to its hoarse shouting. Its cough
sounded strange, scratchy and with a strange honking noise. 
Other than the bizarre noises it made, it was an average day of fighting the
prisoner to get it to obey essentially any order he could give it.
Except it looked even worse the day after that.
It was listless and failed to react when he walked in, remaining in its
pitiful fetal position. "Are you ready to eat this time?" He said dully,
already predicting its answer.
It just grunted in response, like he suspected; he straddled it again without
another word, but to his surprise it hardly fought back. Whenever the human
didn't want to cooperate it kicked, shouted, bit, punched, and desperately
thrashed it's body in an effort to resist Mikaela. When he shoved the food he
brought into its mouth, it remembered its predilection for obstinacy and began
biting down, but it wasn't the dog-like rabid chewing and tossing its head
around like always. The vampire retracted his hand and studied the human with
some measure of trepidation. Something was very wrong.
The human chewed, but when it tried to swallow its face screwed up in agony and
it coughed so violently the food was spat back out. He barely leaned back in
time to avoid the disgusting spray of mush and spit. "I'm assuming that wasn't
on purpose." He said as he watched it groan in painful misery.
It muttered insults and rude words under its breath, coughing hoarsely, which
made it wince and clutch its head. "I'm sick, dumbass."
"...Sick?" He asked. He was so accustomed to vampiric vitality and so far
removed from humanity that the thought didn't even cross his mind as an
explanation for its behavior yesterday and today.
"Yeah. Sick. You seriously mean you didn't catch that yesterday?" Only the
particular human beneath him could be naked, tied up, and vulnerable, but still
have the temerity to shoot Mikaela a look like it thought he was the dumbest
creature alive.
If he recalled correctly, sickness could turn deadly if left untreated. "As if
I know anything about humans. So what do you do about it?" He barely knew
anything about human physiology anymore, and while it might be foolish to take
advice from his own prisoner, he didn't plan to follow any of its claims
without searching for evidence to back the up.
"A-Are you being serious?" It stuttered through a hoarse rasp; it sounded like
its throat was made of sandpaper.
He dryly raised an eyebrow, fixing the human with a flat stare.
"Oh god you are. I'm going to die of fever or some shit. This is the end."
"Stop being melodramatic. I'll find a way to fix it." The library was a
collection of eclectic knowledge free for perusal. If it had meal recipes than
it more than likely had something on human health and recovery.
"You don't just 'fix' sickness, you idiot-! Look can you get off-?!" It
suddenly remembered that it hated when Mikaela pinned it like this and bucked
its hips like an unruly stallion, squirming uncontrollably in every direction
to throw him off. It halted abruptly, clutching its head with a look of agony.
"God- shit."
He slid off and stood by the bed, and the human demurely positioned itself for
modesty. "Q-Quit looking you goddamned creep..." It blushed and grumbled in
response to Mikaela's unabashed gaze.
The vampire ignored it. "I assume you can't eat in this state?"
"No, my throat hurts too much. It felt like I was trying to swallow a damned
rock. With nails." It said, voice scratchy enough to cut serrate air. "With my
throat like this, I can't probably eat anything but soft foods. Like boiled
carrots or bananas."
"But it's not just your throat." He said, because it was obvious there were
other symptoms.
"No, there's other shit. Nausea, headache." It grumbled and shot Mikaela a
suspicious look. "Why do you even care?"
"I don't, not particularly." He said bluntly and the human made a little
hissing sound. "But I've been assigned to keep you alive."
"Fine job of that. This is your fault in the first place." It always surprised
him that the human could talk to him like that despite the fact that it had to
know he could break its body in half without a second thought. It was an
explosive mixture of mind-boggling stupidity and proud strength that staggered
him. "Do you know how cold it is in the castle? It's underground. Of course I'd
get sick without clothes or blankets, you idiot!"
He narrowed his eyes. "No. This is yours. If you hadn't attempted escape, this
would have never happened in the first place." He said, but the words settled
heavily on his tongue. They felt wrong to say because, truthfully, this
probably was Mikaela's fault. He was ignorant about human needs and hadn't
known the castle was cold in the first place. Vampires are highly resistant to
the cold and the heat alike, so he had no way of knowing. He only took the
blankets away to discourage it from a second escape attempt and to humiliate it
with nothing to provide modesty. But still, if he had bothered to study the
species of the creature under his care, he might have known this. Now the
captive's life could be in danger and it was possibly entirely his fault.
The next day he came in he was greeted with a slap of the pungent stench of
sweat and a faint sourness. The human was curled up into a little ball of
misery like usual, but this time it was obviously not for modesty, judging by
the fact that he could clearly see its ass and it didn't seem to care.
"You need to be cleaned again." He said, resisting the instinct to wrinkle his
nose.
"Joy." It muttered through an awful cough. Regardless of its sour attitude, it
didn't do much to protest when he picked it up by the arm and tried to pull it
up to its feet. Mikaela used the word 'try' because as soon as it was on its
feet it collapsed against him.
Its body was feverishly hot against his. "Can you not walk?"
"I'll be fine." It hissed through gritted teeth, pulling itself up to shaky
feet and weakly pushing itself away from him. Mikaela led the human to the
restroom, privately amused that the second time it's ever obeyed him was when
its pride was challenged. They tried walking there, but its feet dragged and it
swayed dangerously with every step.
It was clear to Mikaela that this wasn't going to work. He suddenly turned
around and grabbed the human, scooping into his arms and hoisting it into the
air.
For a second it was too disoriented to do anything but gurgle. "...Watch how
you- how you jerk me around, fuckwad. I already puked once today." It gasped,
clutching its face. Mikaela recalled it mentioning nausea the other day.
He carried it into the bathroom over its hoarse protests, dumping it into the
tub and turning on the tap for warm water. It breathed heavily, leaning against
the side of the tub, looking as if merely the act of sitting up was taking all
of its strength. "Can you even wash yourself?" 
"Fffuck- fuck off." It groaned, putting its face into its knees. 
That was a resounding no. As he stopped the tap before the water could get too
high, Mikaela realized with no small feeling of weariness that he would have to
do it. "Keep quiet and this can go quickly." He said, dipping his gloved hands
into the warm water and lifting its arms.
"Get off..." It muttered weakly, batting pathetically at his hands.
He ignored its swiping like they were the paws of a kitten. "Just sit still and
it'll go faster." He said, picking up the soap and scrubbing its arms, sides
and back. For a soldier, its skin was surprisingly smooth and unblemished- a
testament to how young and inexperienced it was.
Then his hand went lower. It jerked violently, splashing filthy water
everywhere. "What the fu-fuck-!" It rasped hoarsely.
"Why are you surprised?" He grimaced at the wet patches on his coat. "That's
where most of your filth gathers. Stop fighting me you walking headache." He
wrapped a strong arm around its shoulder and held it close, trapping it against
the rim of the rub it. The awkward position forced it to kneel in the
relatively shallow water, to where only its legs and knees were still
submerged. While it was occupied fighting his hold with what little strength it
had, his other hand lathered soap and drifted lower to its rear, running along
the seam.
"Stop...!" It's voice was ragged and choked with pained coughs, sounding
entirely different from the usual sound.
He ignored it, running the tips of his fingers back and forth along the crack,
gently scrubbing the skin clean with a soapy, gloved hand. The round flesh was
slick like this. "Calm down, I'm not interested in fucking you."
It choked and sputtered on its own saliva. "Wh-wha- That's not what I meant you
fucker!" The human's soft cheeks were a deep, brilliant red, the blood quickly
rising to the surface from embarrassment at his blunt language. "I meant- I
don't want you t-touch me like this-!"
"Then we have something in common." He said wryly. "And the sooner you stop
throwing a tantrum the sooner we can get this over with."
"Y-Yeah but-!" Its voice cracked a little. "It feels weird!"
That... Weird? What could it mean by-?
Oh-
Oh.
He thought it would be too repulsed by him to feel plea-
"...I'm going to ignore that." He said, the words trickling out like he was
squeezing them from a very small tube. Its hair should be next, but a quick
glance at the filth in the water and Mikaela instantly ruled it out. Washing
its hair would do no good with the water in such a disgusting state, and really
the thing was just wallowing a pool of its own filth at this point. A shower
would have been better from the start.
He stood up, taking off his cape and outer coat and stripping down to his his
black undershirt and white slacks. All of those outer layers would just get
soaked and weigh him down.
"Wai- Wait. Hold up now-"
"Get your mind out of the gutter." he sighed. "I don't know how many times I
have to tell you I'm not interested in fucking a human. Would you fuck a farm
animal?"
It sputtered with a comical mix of indignant fury and horrified embarrassment
while he unplugged the drain. Mikaela wondered what it was like to be young
like that. "Stand up." He commanded. The vampire stripped his soiled gloves off
and threw them in the trash can before grasping it's upper arm, hoisting it to
its unsteady feet, legs shaking underneath its own weight. It was so weak in
this state that it couldn't even stand on its own; this isn't going to work. He
fought down a weary sigh and stepped into the tub, protected by
waterproof boots. 
"What are you...?" It was interrupted by another bout of coughing. Yelling had
irritated its already delicate throat.
While it was distracted with hacking its lungs out, he wrapped an arm around
its back and supported its weight against his body, absentmindedly noting that
it was smaller than him. Mikaela turned on the tap for the shower and a warm
spray of water rained down from above, soaking through his shirt. "We're almost
done." He said, rotating it around and lifting various limbs to let the spray
wash away the filthy tub water. He pointedly ignored its crotch area, deciding
that was a battle best left not fought for both their sakes.
Mikaela maneuvered the human into a sitting position on the ledge of the tub,
finally stepping out from under the shower stream. Unfortunately his shirt was
completely soaked and his pants partially. He stepped behind the slouching
human, letting it lean against his legs while he reached for a bottle of
shampoo. Like the human rations, the more frivolous items like the lotions and
perfumes the nobles spoiled themselves with were produced in factories by the
humans that grew older than thirteen and taken above ground. They always went
to either the fields or the processing facilities to produce things like
rations and the scented shampoo he was currently squirting into his hand.
It was clearly exhausted, but the human continued to protest the strokes of his
hands in its black hair, slicking it with shampoo. He noted with amusement that
it began to lean and relax against his touch when he gently scraped his nails
against its scalp to get the grit out of its roots. As much as it hissed and
spat, it liked to be petted. He's even pretty sure its fatigue got the better
of it at one point and it dozed off; he enjoyed the silence while it lasted.
With its hair and scalp adequately scrubbed, he leaned over the lip of the tub
and tilted the human's head below the spray of the shower, using his hands to
push away the suds. The spray of water woke it up again.

"F- shit-!" It awakened with a jump in his arms. "What'd you do?" It rasped,
sounding suspicious.
He payed it no mind until all of the shampoo was gone.
Done. Finally. He brushed away wet and annoying golden strands of hair sticking
to his face.
Mikaela turned the tap off and picked up the human again. "Do you really have
to do this? Again?" It asked wearily, most likely tired of being manhandled all
evening.
"Yes." He said simply, reaching for a towel and wrapping it up. It would be
pointless to clean and warm it up with a bath only to let it freeze in the cold
air and get sicker. As he dried it off it was willing to lean against him for
support without prompting, and that's when he knew that it was genuinely
overcome with weakness. What little energy it had today was spent fighting him
in the tub. He closed the lid of the toilet and sat the sick human down to
towel its hair dry. He was careful not to jostle its head and exacerbate its
headache.
It looked so lethargic and exhausted at this point, with half-lidded and glazed
green eyes, that it surprised him when it spoke again. "Nothing you do... ever
makes any sense."
"I could say the same." He said dryly. "If you hadn't managed to pull the wool
over my eyes just three days ago I would still be writing you off as an idiot
and a fool too stupid to plan."
"So what'm I now?"
"An idiot and a fool too stupid to read."
"You're such an asshole." It wheezed, a heavy gust of air that Mikaela could
almost mistake for a tired laugh.
He swept it up again, crooking his arm beneath its knees and holding up its
shoulders. Pressed against his body and bare in his gloveless hands, Mikaela
could feel how soft it was. "You know..." It trailed off, lids opening and
closing over green eyes repeatedly. "Don' hafta carry me anymore..."
"Obviously not." He said wryly.
He doubted he was a figure it trusted, so it was a testament to how exhausted
it was that it was falling asleep in his arms like this. The vampire decided to
let it sleep for today; it wouldn't be able to keep rations down in this state
anyways. Besides, it made it easier for Mika to carry the human back to its
bed, where he laid it dow-
No. His bed. His bed.
He laid it down on his bed, but there were still no blankets. Mikaela was
hesitant to give them back because retracting any sort of punishment would just
weaken his position further than these past two days already had. But,
ultimately, his ignorance in the form of taking its blankets was likely the
cause of its illness in the first place. He took a spare set from a guest
bedroom across the hall and covered the human with them.
Because Krul ordered him to dominate and take control of it, but it was clear
to him that, ultimately, she wanted it alive and healthy above all else. If
sacrificing a bit of his work ensured its life, then his priority was clear.
 
===============================================================================
 
He had to wake it up the next time he came in, carrying a meal suggested by a
book he found. Apparently the liquid of a thin chicken soup and the soft
texture of the boiled vegetables would be easy to swallow, even with a sore and
constricted throat. And according to his own research, recipes with certain
ingredients were dense with necessary nutrition; the soup was as good an option
as any.
With black strands of hair sticking to its sweaty face and deep circles around
its eyes, the human looked just as bad as yesterday, maybe worse. He shook its
shoulder as gently as he could, not wanting to exacerbate its symptoms. It took
a worrying amount of time to come to consciousness, blearily opening its eyes
and blinking vacantly at him. "You need to eat." He said, not sure why his
voice was so quiet.
It slowly looked at Mikaela, turned it's uncomprehending gaze to the blankets
covering it, stared for an awkwardly long amount of time, and then back at the
vampire. "I... Did you- did you give me the blankets back?" It asked as if it
couldn't see the answer right in front of its face. Its voice was little more
than a dying wheeze.
"It's the reason you became ill in the first place. Of course you couldn't
recover without warmth."
"Oh." It said, dumbly. It must have been very deep into sleep when he woke it
up. Tired green eyes locked onto the container in his hands. "...What's that?"
"It's chicken soup." He said, feeling ungainly and ridiculous. "Apparently it's
good for recovery."
"...But I didn't tell you that?" Its black brows furrowed in confusion. "I
didn't tell you anything about soup."
He was dropping this subject as fast as he could. "I looked into it." He said
shortly, cutting off this conversation by inserting his arm beneath the humans
shoulders and pulling it to sit upright, letting it rest against the headboard.
It moaned in a miserable pain Mikaela was inwardly satisfied know he would
never feel. It clutched its head and screwed its eyes shut; even merely sitting
upright was irritating its symptoms.
He opened soup's lid and brandished a spoon. "The sooner you eat this, the
sooner you can rest again." He warned, because fighting it like he usually did
was definitely not a good idea while it was this weak. Somehow, he had to get
across that, above all else, it was for its own good to eat peacefully at least
for today-
"It's fine." The human rasped. "Just make sure it isn't hot. That would just
make it worse."
He wasn't one to be unappreciative of small miracles. It was probably because
it felt too miserable to work up the energy to want to fight him. The soup was
still steaming, so he assumed that was considered too much heat. He could wait
for it to cool down, but that could be longer than the human's poor health
could tolerate. Mikaela held up a spoonful, feeling more than a bit ridiculous,
and blew on it until it no longer billowed steam.
"Here." He said, reaching over with the the spoon-
...To a human that was gaping at him like he slapped it with a fish. They
stared at each other for another awkward pause, and Mikaela was privately aware
that it'd been literal decades since he felt so awkward about anything, Krul's
teasing notwithstanding. When the still silence stretched far beyond its
novelty, he decided to take advantage of the open mouth and stuck the spoon
inside.
"How was that?" He asked while it gathered what little wits it still possessed
and remembered that chewing and swallowing was a thing humans did.
"It tastes good." It murmured and adverted its eyes, looking everywhere it
possibly could except for Mikaela. There was a rich flush on its cheeks, but
redness in the face was a common side effect of illnesses, especially if it was
running a fever. "It wasn't hot either."
He continued to spoon-feed it, cooling the piping hot bites off by blowing on
it until the soup container itself was a comfortable temperature. Surprisingly,
it ate without argument or complaint the entire time, though it occasionally
couldn't look him in the eye, until most of the soup was gone. The portion
served was a little too much for it, but Mikaela was satisfied with what it
ate.
He packed up the container and spoon, expecting it to fall asleep or simply lay
quietly to rest, so it surprised him when it began babbling. "You know, this
reminds me of my own family. I used to feed them soup when they got sick like
this, too." It said, staring at the ceiling with a soft look.
There was a pause of silence because Mikaela had no idea how to respond to
this.
"Did you have any family? Before you were a vampire?" It asked from beneath its
cocoon of blankets. They were done. He could simply finish checking its health
with what he learned overnight and then leave.
Against every sane thought that was telling him this would be an utterly
ridiculous train of dialogue, Mikaela humored it on impulse. "I vaguely
remember having a younger sister in my human days." Why was he doing this?
Conversing with it was pointless. Maybe it was just hard to deny something that
looked this pitiable, especially since this conversation wouldn't hold any
emotional meaning for him anyways.
"For real?" It's eyes widened, an entire visage of sickness and bone-
deep exhaustion brightening at the smallest bit of information on Mikaela's
personal story. It looked shocked that he even answered it. Truthfully, he was
too.
Well, it wasn't particularly interesting information to him. "Mm." He said
idly.
"Well don't stop there." It said, doing an odd little wriggle from underneath
the sheets, practically squirming for answers like a small child. "C'mon,
details! What was she like-!" It was so eager to learn anything about him that
it forgot yelling made it delve into an agonizing hacking fit. What a weird
human.
He waited for it to finish coughing its lungs out. "I said 'vaguely'. Vampires
forget their human memories as they age; I barely remember anything about her."
Mikaela dismissed.
It blinked. "How old are you?"
"One-hundred and thirty-two." He said, an impressive number to a young and
inexperienced human like this one, but Mikaela was barely out of his infancy by
vampire standards. He was especially young compared to nobles such as Ferid,
who was rumored to be nearly two-thousand years old.
The human bit its lip. "Well, I know that's old, but you have to
remember something... She was your family." Even through the effects of
sickness roughening and ruining its voice, it managed to sound very sad. 
He humored it. “I don’t remember what she was like, but I still remember what
happened to her.”
“What?” It was practically on the edge of its seat, green eyes widening in
anticipation.
“A vampire killed her. I don't remember if it was the Queen or Bathory.” In the
very beginning of his life, he could remember an inexplicable rage and hatred
for Krul, despite her relatively kind treatment of him. It was because he was
turned against his will. And while anyone reasonable would harbor a deep
mistrust and distaste for Ferid Bathory, it didn't explain how deep his hatred
for the other vampire ran. Just the mere sight of the bastard always made him
want to kill. Either one of those two could have been responsible for her
death, Krul in her search for a progeny, and Ferid, in his search to be the
most sadistic freak in existence.
It bit its cheek, visibly debating its next words. "And you still fight with
them? Even after what they did to you?"
“What would you have me do, human? Should I feel angry? Should I want
vengeance? I did at first. Now I barely remember her face. I can’t work up the
anger on her behalf anymore when I can't even recall her name.” It was easy to
talk to it when it was subdued and muted like this. Perhaps because it felt
like less of an obstacle. The best analogy he could think of was the fact that
tamed pets could be spoiled, but wild animals still needed discipline.
"Yeah but- but they hurt you-!" It coughed, twitching its arms from underneath
its blankets like it wanted to reach up and shake some sense into Mikaela. "And
your family!"
"Should I betray the only group on my side and live a life pitted against the
entire world? I live in a world where vampires and humans are at war and live
as a being that hates both equally. The logical choice is to do what keeps me
alive, that's all." He said, feeling pathetically empty even as he spoke. That
was one thing he always found ironic humor in; mortal humans were so much more
alive and found so much more out of life than the eternal vampires that claimed
to be superior in every way.
"But- but what do you live for? Without any family or- or friends or-..." It
looked horrified, unable to wrap its head around an existence wholly opposed to
its own.
"I live simply because I can. Eternity takes away all purpose because your time
is unlimited. Why fight when I know I will survive? Why care when I need
nothing more than blood? Why thirst for knowledge when eternity guarantees me
the time to learn anything? I have no desires."
A long and painful silence stretched between them; both parties were lost in
their own thoughts. The human looked like it swallowed sandpaper, face screwed
up in stress. "T-Then there's just one thing I want to ask. Why are you
different from Auriel and other vampires? Why aren't you hurting me for the
sake of it? All vampires look down on humans, so why aren't you taking
advantage of our situation to fuck with me?"
That was an easy answer. "As I said, I hate vampires and humans equally. Even
if I must side with the vampires, I won't be like them. I refuse to be like
them. Taking obscene pleasure in senseless slaughter, finding amusement in the
pointless torment of humans... I won't sink to their obscene level. I work with
them, but at the very least I can content myself with knowing I never truly
joined them." The last, dying shards of emotion felt by the turning human are
the ones felt most strongly within the newborn vampire, and are the weights
those such as he must carry for the rest of their eternity. Even though he'd
virtually lost all of his human memories, he could never forget the all-
consuming rage he felt towards Ferid and Krul, nor could he forget the
overwhelming animosity he felt towards vampires as a whole. Even now, those
emotions burned brightly, somewhere deep in the recesses of his mind. He could
hide that fire, could trap it somewhere it wouldn't be able to consume
everything around him, but he would most likely never be able to put it out
completely.
It was squinting against black strands tickling its eyes, blinking constantly
from their irritation. He was grateful for the movement that pulled him out of
his dark thoughts before they could get away from him. He brushed the hairs
away before he realized his arm moved. "It was annoying me." He muttered a bit
defensively underneath its wide-eyed look and glared at his hand like it was a
traitorous foreign object. He was uncharacteristically conscious of the weight
of its green gaze. The human was openly staring at him with a look he'd never
seen on its face before. It felt like it was the one analyzing and evaluating
him, rather than the other way around. Or like Mikaela was an entirely new and
amazing breed of beast to be studied. It made the surface of his skin tingle. 
Chapter End Notes
     I like to amuse myself with the idea that all Yuu had was a really
     bad cold or something XD
     Also, a very sweet anon sent me a gift pic! Here's the link: http://
     6lilystrings9.tumblr.com/post/136487602419/i-really-like-your-garden-
     of-hades-fic-so-i
***** Purple Lilacs *****
Chapter Summary
     In which Yuu is a confusing little pest that can't stop won't stop
     buzzing.
Chapter Notes
     So not only did this take unusually long to come out, but it's
     another slow chapter, sorry. It's literally just conversation. But I
     need it to bridge the events for next chapter. I'm soooorry! ;~;
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Mikaela's life as a vampire has been a single, monotonous song set on repeat
for his entire life. As an immortal being, he has no goals or aspirations and
no pleasures or vices to ever change a daily consistency that has been
established for over a century. 
So when things started getting weirder, he had no experience under his belt to
deal with it, because the odd look on its face the day before foretold a
following day of bizarre behavior.
He came to feed it another bowl of chicken soup and decided to untie the
human's hands. Restraints were rendered a moot point when said captive was too
physically weak to attempt escape and too naked and demure to want to. The
human rubbed its wrists from underneath the blanket, a thoughtful look on its
face that rarely bode well for Mikaela.
He was proven right to feel some measure of apprehension when it began more of
its baffling rambling. "So I remember about our conversation yesterday." It
breathed, face still warm and body buried underneath the thick blankets, pulled
up to its chin. Mikaela's bed was large, and the wide expanse of bedding made
it look tiny, like it was precariously close to swallowing the human whole.
"Mm." He said absentmindedly while he stirred up the soup, trying to brush the
conversation away.
His taciturnity rolled off its back like water. "It made me think about my own
siblings. You know, I had two younger bothers and four younger sisters."
Mikaela reached out with an arm and positioned it upright against the
headboard. It followed the motion without missing a beat. "There was Akane, the
second oldest. Whenever I wasn't around to look after things, she was there to
pick up the slack."
He didn't respond, holding up a spoonful of the soup and blowing on it like
yesterday.
"And the third oldest was Chihiro. Her glasses were too big so they were always
falling off. I dunno how they never broke. She always wanted to help me and
Akane. I guess because she was getting older and felt like she needed to step
up." Its eyes gazed at a random point in the distance with a distant and
occupied look, much like the time it told him about its human squad, but its
mannerisms were far more subdued. These were faraway memories.
"So the middle kid was Kouta. Next to me, he was the one to get into the most
trouble, but it was less because he has a pissy attitude, like me, and-" He
took advantage of the open mouth to insert the spoon inside. It shot him an
annoyed look , to which he responded with a raised eyebrow. It chewed and
swallowed with a determined ferocity, like the food inside its mouth was an
enemy unit to be neutralized. Whatever this seemingly non-sequitur rambling was
about, it was an important topic to his captive. "Like I was saying, more
because he was just a hyper blockhead." 
He tried to tune it out and just focus on cooling down the next spoonful, but
its raspy voice cut into the otherwise silent room like a hot knife through
butter. Its face tightened into a pained expression with each child described
to him. The more he tried to ignore its rambling, the more its voice pierced
through his thoughts. "Ako was the third youngest. She was the family princess,
I guess. She liked attention and could be pretty dramatic, but she was the most
upbeat out of everyone. I almost never saw her frown."
"The second youngest was Fumie and she was a little quieter than the others."
It was prepared for him this time, opening its mouth in time to welcome the
soup inside. The spoon slid out from between its soft lips, cleaned of its
contents."I think she was the kind of person that could have as much fun by
herself as with other kids." It continued after swallowing, gripping the sheets
with a white-knuckled grip.
It bit its cheek, looking stricken, like Mikaela had reached over and slapped
it again. "And our littlest one was Taichi. He was closest to Chihiro and
Akane, but that's because they were the ones that looked after him most. He was
just learning how to read when-"
The agony on its face was palpable.
"And- well. A vampire took them away too." It said, voice cracking slightly and
looking at him like-
What did it want from him? What was the point of telling him this?
It continued with a hoarse murmur, but it might as well have been screaming,
for all that Mikaela couldn't tear his eyes away from this picture of wounded
bitterness. "I was pretty little, twelve, when a vampire found us.
Apparently they're supposed to just take you away to the city when they find
young ones, but I guess this one was a fucking freak, even for a vampire."
So when he said 'took' the human meant this vampire slaughtered them all.
Well, the story didn't sound unbelievable. Ferid notwithstanding, there were
plenty of wild types among his ranks that took such pleasure in tormenting
humans that he could easily see them going against orders in order to get a few
more minutes of "fun". That type disgusted him.
"You're right." He said while he once again took advantage of its flapping gums
to feed it another bite. While the vampire still felt a bit ridiculous coddling
a human like this, he was starting to get used to the motions. "We have orders
to capture humans below the age of thirteen, but there are plenty of
individuals who don't care about it."
"It's sick, right?" Its little fists kept clenched the sheets like they were
the ones that killed its family. The green eyes that always stuck out in his
mind were alight again, like green fire. Suffering only made some shine all the
brighter.
He noticed it was looking at him with wide eyes and its entire body was leaning
in slightly; it was anticipating an answer from him, for some reason.
"I've already stated my thoughts on the matter. Now eat." He pushed another
serving to its lips, trying to cut off this uncomfortable line of dialogue that
he couldn't understand the purpose of, but the little annoyance pursed its lips
and dodged it. What the hell.
"That's what I'm getting at-!" It wheezed, throat still too sore to support its
excitement. "You're better than them, you know?"
"I... What?" He was dreaming. This was a dream or a hallucination, caused by
thirst or something. He was probably dying and turning into a demon. He would
wake up and see the reality of his impending death any second now.
"Mika," It said, using that nickname he hadn't heard since the human coined
it. He nearly dropped the soup. "I'm saying that I've noticed you're not like
the other vampires, and that's a good thing."
He abruptly shoved the spoon in its mouth, a little deeper than recommended,
going by the reflexive tears welling in the corners of its eyes. "I think
that's enough out of you for today." He said, using a dry tone to mask how
unsettled he was by just a few words from a human. "You're clearly delirious
with fever."
"I'm not-!" It insisted through a mouthful of spoon and soup.
"You do remember that I'm the one that choked you, stripped you, and overall
violated and humiliated you, right?" Mikaela said, trying to remind it that it
was supposed to fear and cower before him, like a normal captive.
"I'm also aware that you're the one that hasn't taken advantage of that to kick
the crap out of me." It retorted, and of course it didn't think of the fact
that many, many other vampires would have far different ideas on what to do
with a naked human. "I also know that you're the one vampire who still honors
his family."
He rolled his eyes, momentarily surprising himself with the open and immature
display of irritation. "What are you talking about? I told you before. I don't
even remember her."
"You must, if you're so determined to not be like the other vampires, even
thou-!"
He cut it off with another spoonful. "I don't want to hear another word. Eat
this and shut up, or I'll-" What could he threaten it with, at this point?
"I'll give you mouth-to-mouth again." Mikaela said, painfully aware that it was
the single remaining ammunition he had left to threaten it with. Anything worse
would be too much for him.
It flushed bright red and furrowed its brows into a disgruntled expression, but
didn't say anything else. He'd normally take that as a victory, but the
thoughtful and intense gleam in its eyes never strayed from him. He almost felt
like a fly on an examination table, until he reminded himself that the thought
was ridiculous, because he was clearly in the position of power between them.
The only power it could have was power he let it have, and so long as he bore
through whatever nonsensical babbling it spouted, he could keep the upper hand.
Punishing it for talking wasn't something he felt like he could do, if only
because there was very little left he could do to it that wouldn't cross his
own lines. Mikaela only had one thing left, and something as innocuous as
pseudo-kissing only worked so long as the human retained its youth and
innocence.
He hoped against all logic that striking down the conversation today would end
this- whatever it was. Unfortunately, the conversation today and the one
yesterday foreshadowed a string of bizarre, inscrutable behavior that stretched
for days.
 
===============================================================================
 
"Hey, Mika!"
"You will not address me as such."
"Mika, do you have a favorite color?"
"That question is asinine."
"So you're one-hundred and thirty-two, Mika? What was the world like when you
were really young? Can you remember some of it?"
"I don't remember much, and what I do recall is the stench of unwashed humans.
Everything was filthy. Eat."
"What's your favorite season, Mika?"
"Underground."
"Mikaaaaaaaa!"
Mika, Mika, Mika. It never ended with the human. First it unnerved him with
erratic emotional displays, and now it was just endlessly babbling at him with
that ridiculous nickname. It was annoying and, truthfully, offensive to his
pride how lightly it seemed to take him.
"That's enough." He said shortly, having had more than his fill of entertaining
its childish gabbing. It was sitting upright against the headboard, blankets
pulled up to its naked waist for modesty. "You're going to eat today and you're
not going to say a word.I'll feed you like before if you keep pestering me with
this brainless babbling." 
The little- It had the nerve to smirk at him. "Ah-ah!" It tutted. "I'm still
sick, so stuffing my face and agitating my throat wouldn't help me recover."
"That's not what I was referring to." He narrowed his eyes into slits. "'But
I'm starting to think that if you have the wellness to play games, you have the
wellness for our normal routine." With four days of care, the human's face
returned to a healthy glow and its energy has been steadily coming back up to
this point. It must be fully recovered by now, what with its increasingly
obnoxious behavior.
"But would you risk that?" It said, completely unafraid of him. And that
bruised his pride the most- the most unnerving sign of how badly he messed this
up.
"I might just twist your head off and be done with this." He said, but the
threat was completely empty and they both knew it. He pinched the bridge of his
nose, wondering how he was going to explain to the queen the extent of his
failure. "Just eat and be quiet."
It looked at him appraisingly, seeming to toy with an idea. It finally spoke
just when Mikaela felt like he was going to lose his temper and snap his fangs
at it. "...I'll be quiet if you call me 'Yuu'."
Just when he thought it couldn't get more audacious. "Are you- Are you trying
to bargain with me?" It was naked, just recovering from horrible illness,
vulnerable, weak, and in a position of mercy to an inhuman creature seven times
stronger and with a distinct distaste for its kind, and it decided the best
idea was to backtalk and then try to make a deal?
It was completely unrepentant in the face of Mikaela's scandalized
expression. "Yep! Small trade, right? I'll be quiet and do what you like, so
you won't have to do... t-that, and all you have to do is call me by my name-"
He abruptly cut it off, rising to his feet to loom over it menacingly from its
place on the bed. The soup sloshed dangerously, but didn't spill. The human
didn't so much as flinch, but it did lean back a bit when Mikaela's face got
too close. "Absolutely not. Don't forget what position you're in. I'm not
your nanny, I'm your keeper under the queen's orders, and she's allowed me to
keep you however I see fit." He hissed. Accepting deals and compromising with
it was the absolute last thing to do when he'd already inflicted irreparable
damage.
"And yet you haven't hurt me." It shot back, bolder with every word Mikaela's
allowed it.
He was going to shut it down, and revealing the truth of the matter wouldn't
worsen this fiasco. “Don't misunderstand. I would have broken every limb in
your body from the first day, just like Auriel, if it hadn’t been for the
queen’s orders.” Mikaela said coldly, feeling vicious satisfaction at its
widening eyes. "That's right. The only reason I haven't hurt you is because
I've been ordered not to. She wants you alive and healthy. Lucky you."
It licked its lips nervously, mind visibly scrambling to digest this
information and try to fit it with this fantasy profile of him that it crafted
out of desperation for something that escape him. “Maybe..." It started slowly,
looking at him with grim determination. "But I know you wouldn’t have enjoyed
it.” 
He smiled savagely, flashing deadly white incisors. “You have a very incorrect
impression of me, human. A part of me was pleased with your humiliation after I
stripped you naked,” He brushed his fingers against its bare collar for
emphasis, and it flinched away from the feathery touch with an embarrassed
squeak. Even now he wasn't proud of that moment, but it was ammunition against
the human's bizarre form of rebellion and he would take it.
“…What about the rest of you? Did the other parts feel bad about it, then?” It
latched on to whatever wriggle room he unintentionally gave to come up
with misinterpreted evidence to keep insisting he was something he wasn't.
"Of course not." He said, the lie coming effortlessly. 
It wasn't fooling anyone in this room. The human pressed its lips into a thin
line. “Liar. Even if you’re supposed to keep me alive, you took too good care
of me to notfeel a little guilty. You did stuff you definitely didn’t have to.
Like making Auriel apologize to my face, and doing your own research to bring
me soup and curry. Especially the curry-”
He brought a spoonful of soup to his mouth and leaned over the bed, cutting it
off by pressing their lips together. An embarrassed squawk was muffled by
Mikaela's tongue forcing its lips apart and sealing their mouths together.
It tried to get away by jerking its head back to flee from the prying muscle,
but he gripped the back of its head, burying his fingers into black strands and
holding in place as he swirled his tongue inside. Small hands began flailing
and scrabbling against his chest, trying to push him away. The efforts were
weak and hopeless, but they were annoying and distracting. He latched onto both
wrists with a single sweep of his free hand and slammed them against the wall
above its head. The awkward position forced Mikaela's knee onto the bed.
He expected it to keep fighting, to claw and thrash desperately with the primal
fear of a small creature desperately trying to get away from a predator.
Instead, the human swallowed the food and relaxed in his hold, arms growing
limp and settling nicely into his palm. Unsettled, he pulled away to bright
green eyes burning into him like a flame.
"G-Go ahead! Do it again!" It challenged with a stutter, glaring defiantly even
as its face flushed a vibrant shade of red. It's entire body shuddered with
heavy breaths, bare chest rising and falling to the rhythm. "It doesn't bother
me anymore, so c'mon!" 
Something that felt like his temper snapped. Mikaela snarled and grabbed it by
the shoulders, slamming the human into the bed so hard it bounced. "What
will take for you to understand your place-?" He bared his fangs menacingly,
trapping the warm body beneath him in a cage of his limbs.
The human cut him off, pointing a finger into his chest. “Like it or not, you
don’t scare me. Not when I know you’re better than the rest of them. Not when I
know there are lines you’re too good to cross.”
A silence stretched between them like an all-consuming vacuum that could
swallow the air itself. It was so quiet Mikaela could hear a thumpthumpthump-
the human's nervous heartbeat, fluttering like the wings of a small
bird. "There's still one last thing I can do to you." He breathed, leaning his
face in close and aligning their eyes; his vision was consumed by vibrant
green.
He rested his weight on an arm above its head and used his other hand to
languidly drag the sheets away, the soft fabric kissing its sensitive flesh. It
swallowed and shivered at the cold air. Starting from the chest, his hand
slowly, sensuously slid down its side, stopping at its hip and resting its
thumb on the jut of the bone. He watched its reactions, watched its soft lips
suck in a sharp breath and stutter an exhale. "Just one last thing." Mikaela
murmured so quietly he would be inaudible if not for the deafening silence of
the room. His hand wandered lower, tracing across the human's thigh towards the
center. Only a thin layer of cloth separated the skin of his palm from the
twitching flesh of its body; he'd never been so conscious of his gloves until
now.
"You wouldn't." It said breathily, lips so close they could brush again with
smallest movement.
His hand glided closer, so close he could feel the warmth radiating from the
heat between its legs. He watched it take shuddering breaths, but even now,
this dangerously close to violation, it didn't try to fight him. Against all
instincts of self-preservation, despite the nervous tension cording its body,
the human remained pliant and almost submissive beneath the cage of Mikaela's
body.
Almost submissive. “You're not that kind of man. I know it.” It looked him in
the eye unflinchingly, goosebumps forming on the soft flesh under Mikaela’s
palm even as bold green eyes challenged Mikaela's capability to rape it. The
human, Hyakuya Yuuichirou, was consciously calming himself down. Against all
logic, against all reason, against all of the vampire's power over him, he
wasn't afraid of him. He was just nervous about sexuality in his inexperience
with it.
This close together, their breaths mingled, and he felt warmth underneath the
searing intensity of its gaze. Every word, every retort, every threat died in
his throat in the face of the alarming heat pooling inside of him.
Mikaela ripped himself away like the human had caught on fire, the heat it
radiated fleeing and leaving his body a chill born of loss. He didn't look back
at it, didn't want to turn around and see it again. He left in a rage, furious
and disgusted with his loss of control over the human and, even more so,
himself for feeling something he desperately didn't want to acknowledge. Even
as he slammed the door shut so hard the hinges rattled, he could still feel
warmth in his palm. His vision was filtered in shades of vibrant green.
 
Chapter End Notes
     //leaves this chapter and runs away
     P-Please look forward to next chapter? I-I PROMISE I HAVE SOMETHING
     GOOD PLAAAANNED???
***** Coral Roses *****
Chapter Summary
     A chapter many have been waiting for.
Chapter Notes
     Sorry for the delay, guys! School has started up again, so updates
     will probably slow down to about once a week. I don't see them taking
     any longer than that though.
     But I wonder if anyone noticed Mikaela called Yuuichirou "he" for the
     first time last chapter? I didn't see anyone mention it, because I
     purposely made it subtle. I like to hide things from you guys eue.
     Also I'm so nervous about his chapter huahaaahaaa ouo;;;
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Time overnight has cooled Mikaela's temper, but not his ire. The human was
manipulating him, it had to be. He was so certain it lacked the brain capacity
to figure out how to dress itself in the mornings, but now, one planned escape
attempt later, he knew its stupidity and submission were calculated.
An ulterior motive was the only logical explanation. Weeks previously, he would
have found the idea laughably absurd. It was loud, temperamental, and stubborn
to the point of folly. But it was the only reason as to why it would purposely
put itself in a vulnerable position like that. Mikaela could have violated it,
and it took a calculated risk, innocently placing itself under the lion's paw
to lull the beast into victorious complacency.
The fact that the human had already done so previously, pretending to submit
and weeping false tears, only convinced him further. The insult was one thing,
but the knowledge that it had worked on a level that he refused to consciously
acknowledge only fueled his anger further.
He resisted the urge to kick the door open with the sheer willpower of his
pride. Reacting to it by throwing a tantrum would only gratify its behavior.
Instead, he opened it slowly, allowing the long-suffering creak of his abused
door to announce his arrival.
The human opened its mouth, "Not a word." He hissed, interrupting it. "I don't
want to hear a word from you today."
It furrowed its brows and looked like it was ready to argue. He almost hoped it
would, just so he could put it in its place. It must have grown a brain cell to
match the other one, because it wisely shut its mouth with an audible click. He
reached into the pack he brought with him and pulled out rice; the human sucked
in a breath at the implications.
"I think you know what I want by now." He said, approaching its place on the
bed, bundled up in white sheets. "Eat."
Mikaela was unsurprised when it shot him a sour look, but leaned over and began
to eat anyways. Of course it would cooperate. This was part of its plan. Pink
lips brushed against his palm, suckling little morsels of food into a warm
mouth. Its hands trailed upwards, brushing against his wrist and resting on the
bare skin above Mikaela's glove to hold his hand steady. With his hand held low
and its head bowed like this, all he could see was black fluff at the back of
its head, but he could feel it feeding with every gentle swipe of its tongue
and scrape of its blunt little teeth-
Ah-
The room was upside down-
...What?
Mikaela's mind rewound the events of the past half-a-second; the pressure
around his wrist suddenly tightened, he felt a pulling sensation, and the room
suddenly flipped. The human wrapped his wrist with a firm grip
and yanked Mikaela onto the bed. He was far stronger than a mere human, but
even a vampire could be briefly overpowered when caught by surprise. And while
Yuuichirou challenged his advances the day previous, he would never expect the
human to invite proximity of its own will. So, he couldn't really be faulted
for allowing the human to pounce on him like this.
It flipped itself over Mikaela, propping itself up on its hands and knees. The
vampire was wrapped in a delicate little cage of fragile human limbs. "What the
the hell-!" He could only sputter, so thoroughly caught off guard by the bold
move.
Yuuichirou cut him off, heedless of its nudity. It's been naked before him for
nearly two weeks, and yesterday proved Mikaela wasn't interested in violating
it. They were past modesty. "Why are you so afraid of me?" It asked, peering
down at him.
"Fear?" He spat, affronted. "You think this is fear?" He picked it up and
flipped them over, rolling the human onto its back. "This is disgust. Your
presumption disgusts me." Mikaela leaned back and slid off the bed. He could
easily tear fabric from the sheets and make bindings, but that material would
be too soft and gentle. He might have something more callous in his desk-
He did not anticipate the human leaping from the bed and latching onto his
back. Slender arms and legs wrapped around his shoulders and waist, clinging to
him like an overgrown monkey.
"What the hell has possessed you?!" He wrenched its arms away from him and used
the leverage to flip the human off of his back, using the last of his wits to
remember to throw it back onto the bed and not into a wall. It landed on the
bed with a squeak and a bounce, like a little pebble skipped across water.
But if he'd learned anything over this past month, it was that the human was
mind-bogglingly tenacious. "I can tell you're lonely!" Yuuichirou shouted, and
had the gall to throw a pillow at him. Mikaela easily side-stepped it. "And you
can't stop me, either! I know you can't because there's nothing you can do to
me anymore!"
The frustrated roar that tore through his vocal chords surprised Mikaela more
than it did the human, and he felt like it was someone else picking up the
small bedside table and chucking it across the room in an increasingly common
show of temper. It crashed and splintered against the hard stone wall with a
loud cracking sound. Mikaela's room used to be extravagant, with rich,
elegantly carved mahogany furniture and pristine white walls and floors. Now it
looked like a ravaged battlefield, with cracked drywall and splintered wood
littering the floor and literal chunks blasted out of the walls. All that stood
whole and complete was his desk, the bed, and a single chair. To top off this
surrealist venture into the absurd, his opponent in war, the opponent he waged
battle after battle against, was this weak, naked little creature on his bed.
So ridiculous!
The human jumped and looked at him like he was something it had never seen
before. "Why can't your pitiful human brain understand?! Stop
spouting nonsense!" He'd met humans that were annoying, repulsive, but never in
his life has one driven him to this point of utter, mad fury.
The human glared back unflinchingly, wide green eyes glaring into Mikaela's
like twin suns, scorching him with the intensity and burning away all of his
layers. He hated them. What right did a human have to possess something so-
It clambered to its knees and crawled towards him. Mikaela hissed and backed
away, but lithe arms rose around Mikaela's larger frame, like a little glass
cage, and small, fragile hands nestled into his golden hairs. His face rested
in Yuuichirou's palms. "Isn't it lonely?" The boy asked quietly, rubbing gentle
circles into the blonde's cheeks with his thumbs.
He almost swallowed his own tongue. "What are you...?" Mikaela flinched away
from the touch, but the dark haired boy didn't allow space to grow between
them. His hands chased Mikaela's flight, wrapping around his wrists.
"You're surrounded by people you hate." Yuuichirou said, smaller hands resting
around Mikaela's larger ones, like he thought those fragile things possessed
the strength to hold a vampire down. "You're not happy at all; you've never
been happy, have you?"
His eyes were something Mikaela has always noticed and has always found the
most irritating. They were a clear green that shined brightly. Being underneath
their stare was like being pinned underneath a green light, and he hated the
feeling of scrutiny. When the human was being angry and stubborn, they ignited
like fire, threatening to swallow him in their flames. It was an intensity he
wasn't used to.
"...Mika?" He murmured, black brows furrowing when several moments passed
without a response.
The nickname was something baffling he'd never experienced in his life.
'Isn't it lonely?'
What kind of question even is that-?
Who even asks something like that-?
It was like he'd forgotten this face peering up at him was the face of a human
that seemingly breathed just to infuriate him. All he saw was bright green,
warm pink, and plush lips. He knew from experience that they were soft, but he
never paid it any mind, previously. Yuuichirou's tongue darted out to wet dry
lips, and he caught the muscle without thinking, like a cat catches the small
movements of cornered prey. He pounced with an instinct long since abandoned.
He sucked on the warm, wet muscle caught between his lips, closing the gap
between their mouths by sealing them together. The human was absolutely still,
hands clutching the fabric of his chest with uncertainty. Mikaela paid no mind
to it, as he was so overwhelmed with the surge of want and need crashing into
him, knocking him over like a ocean's wave. Human's had a naturally higher body
temperature than vampires. He felt so cold everywhere, in every sense of life
and body and soul, and Yuuichirou was so wonderfully warm.
Small hands brushed up his shoulders, fragile little fingers twisting into the
small golden hairs at the base of his neck. The boy was responding, clumsily,
arching his back and clutching Mikaela's clothing to push himself closer. His
mouth was inexperienced and inelegant, pushing and twisting around the
vampire's lips with a lack of finesse that was compensated by eagerness.
It was the perfect response, and he drank Yuuichirou up, pushing his tongue
inside and wrapping around the shy pink muscle that hovered uncertainly. It was
an overwhelming dominance. Mikaela easily danced circles around the boy, who
fumbled awkwardly to keep up with a centuries-long gap of experience.
Yuuichirou was so untouched, he hadn't even figured out how to breathe during a
kiss yet. Mikaela had to briefly separate every so often to allow him oxygen,
before chasing those desperate gasps like a starving wolf. He dove back
in, opened his mouth, and consumed the boy below him, nipping and suckling on
his soft bottom lip, eliciting a soft whine from him.
The blonde's hand traced eagerly down Yuuichirou's bare side; the boy had lost
weight over this last month, going from reasonably fit to slender and delicate.
But Mikaela had taken good care of him through his sickness, so he still felt
plush and pleasantly soft.
This wasn't enough, he wanted more. Mikaela closed the space between them,
knees settling onto the bed. His hands tightened around a slim waist, pulling
Yuuichirou into his lap and pressing his body flush against his. In the tangle
of lips and tongues, his fangs brushed the boy's bottom lip, the tips pricking
the silky flesh. He took the bleeding bottom lip into his mouth and sucked on
the little twin beads of red liquid. The taste, even one as small as two little
drops, danced on his tongue like the burst of hot firecrackers.
Yuuichirou's lips broke away to release a needy whine and his trim hips rolled
into Mikaela's abdomen, the boy's searing hardness pressing into him through
his clothing. He could feel the shape of it. The human's plush, round bottom
was perfectly aligned over Mikaela's lap, and when his smaller body writhed on
him, his rear pushed directly down onto his groin.
More, more.
He pushed the boy onto the mattress, settling him onto his back. Mikeala's
tongue chased the line of his throat with languid, sensual licks and his lips
suckled on the sweet skin. He wanted- he needed- he gripped the human's soft
rear and ground himself directly into him, their cocks aligning wonderfully,
even with the fabric of his slacks as a barrier. He thrusted hard enough to
move the needy little body underneath him a good inch up the mattress.
"Mika!" Yuuichirou whined desperately, little human paws clawing at his back.

He froze, the sound of his name- no, that ridiculous nickname reminding him
just who was under him. Only one person, only one specific individual had ever
called him something so absurd in his entire life. Mikaela felt like he'd been
doused in cold water. Slowly, he raised himself up to his hands and knees.
Yuuichirou's face was flushed, green eyes soft and glazed. Every breath shook
his smaller frame, his naked chest rising and falling with each needy gasp. His
lips were swelled and bruised, with a small little nicks in the plump flesh as
evidence of Mikaela's hunger.
Then he felt the human rut against his thigh and the firmness of his member
against Mikaela's was a like a slap in the face. He wrenched himself away with
all of his vampire speed, as if the human had caught fire, backing away and
nearly tripping over his own feet. This was- this was awful-!
This was all a mistake- a bad dream. It had to be.
“Mika.” Yuuichirou rasped from his little nest of twisted blankets and
disheveled sheets, looking frighteningly enticing red-faced and panting, his
round pupils blown large and threatening to overtake the green of his eyes. The
flesh of his neck and lips glistened with Mikaela's saliva. The boy was clearly
charged up and hard, gazing at him with big green eyes and looking lost, alone
on the bed like that. 
It would be cruel to leave him like this. Confused and abandoned.
Mika left anyways. He couldn't leave fast enough.
 
===============================================================================
  
That fucking bastard. 
He just left him.
A part of Yuu was undeniably hurt about the rejection, but he was also grateful
for the break to sort out what the hell was going on in his brain and what the
actual hell happened anyways. Okay. So. Mikaela kissed him. Which was... n-
nice. That itself was a shock, that the vampire that kept telling him over and
over that he wasn't interested just got all up in him all of the sudden. But
what the even bigger shock was the fact that Yuu completely reciprocated. Mika
practically smothered him and he was very much okay with that. More than okay.
The blonde did things with his tongue Yuu didn't even know people could do. He
hadn't even the slightest impression that someone shoving their tongue into
your mouth could be anything but disgusting and weird. But the way the Mika
wrapped around him and- and- 
Augh! He couldn't think with this heat buzzing around in his brain! He peered
downwards and swallowed nervously at the sight his hardness, the firm length
joyfully announcing the very confusing and very intimidating prospect of Yuu's
unexpected sexual awakening.
W-Well, he would have to take care of it... right?
But, it wasn't like he was one to touch himself like this. Yuu rarely got hard
in the first place. Like other boys his age, he'd sometimes get random ones
when he woke up, without even thinking about sex and stuff. It was
embarrassing, so he usually just ignored them until they went away. Sometimes
he would be forced to touch himself, when his balls started cramping from the
lack of release, but he was always really sensitive at that point, so he would
quickly come with just a couple strokes.
Mika would know what to do, but the fucker just up and left him! Yuu was far
from an expert, but the blonde would probably have him on his back and play him
like an instrument again, god but his fingers were wonderfully long and seemed
like they knew everything-
He whimpered into the pillow when his dick jumped at the simple thought of the
vampire touching him again. Fuck.
His hand shakily inched down his front, coming to a halt just before reaching
himself. He was alone, no one was watching, but this was still so mortifying.
He wasn't sure he could get off when he was this nervous. He pulled the
blankets over his sensitive skin, hiding his body from the invisible eyes in
the walls around him. Yuu felt a little better, hiding under the blankets like
this.
He curled up into a little ball and skittishly brushed his fingertips against
the length of his shaft. Electricity sparked up his spine and he canted his
hips into his hand on instinct. He bit into his knuckle to smother the high-
pitched keening sound when his touches grew a little more comfortable. It was
nice, the contact of his fingers on his hot flesh, but Yuu never lasted this
long before. He didn't know what to do other than slide up and down and all
those basic little touches were doing was frustrating him more.
His mind scrambled to find something else, and yellow flashed in his vision in
response. He could feel long and thin imprints of pressure on his hips and the
slick taste of tongue, invisible appendages stroking him, elegant and spidery
and so smooth-
Oh, man.
Yuu buried his face into the pillow to muffle an embarrassingly needy whine as
his hand shyly stuttered around his length with a light and hesitant grip. He
needed more pressure, needed something more, he knew that, but it was so
embarrassing and felt so dirty to think about Mika while he touched himself
like this. Was it even okay? It felt like he was doing something so naughty.
..W-Well, the pretty bastard started this whole thing and then left him all
alone, so it was all his fault anyways!
He bit his lip, and slowly, timidly allowed himself to sink his mind into those
little images of beautiful golden hair and skillful lips. It was Yuu touching
his own dick, but when he closed his eyes he could see Mika's golden-lashed
eyes peering at him from above on the backs of his eyelids, could feel hands
larger and more confident than his own wrapping around him and giving him more
of that searing pleasure the vampire effortlessly gave earlier. Of course, Mika
would do more than just rub up and down on Yuu's length, he obviously knew so
much more, but Yuu didn't even know what it would be.
Mika's skin wasn't as warm as another human's, but the press of the mild
temperature was refreshing and soothing for Yuu. His body got so
dizzyingly hot, and Mika felt like a relieving cooling pack pressed tightly
against him.
Soon he was panting and moaning into the air. The voice was completely
unrecognizable; the desperate and needy whines and moans sounded like someone
else. Yuu never thought he could ever sound like that. The springs in the
mattress squeaked and creaked with a rhythm set to every thrust into his palm.
He was shameless, so shameless, conjuring vague pictures of all of Mika's
unknown and excitingly foreign sensuality. Yuu was so ignorant, so innocent of
this kind of thing- he couldn't even imagine anything concrete. He didn't know
what exactly Mika could do to him, but he recognized the promise of sexuality
and pleasure in everything about Mika, from the cool confidence of his walk, to
the casual self-assuredness of his movements. Just earlier, the blonde spread
Yuu out and devoured him with the easy elegance like he was dining on a fine
meal, and Yuu wanted more dammit!
"M-Mika, p-please come back." He begged pathetically into nothingness, his hips
gyrating into a circular motion and his other hand instinctively traveling to
his balls, rolling them into his hand and stroking them. 
His thrusts quickened, and in his increased speed Yuu's hand brushed higher up
than he usually went. His fingers rubbed against the tip of his head. "Mika-
" He whined, arching his back and curling his toes at the white-hot flash of
mounting pleasure searing the back of his eyelids. The tip- the tip was the
most sensitive!
One hand kept stroking his shaft, while the other immediately went to explore
this new discovery. His voice grew higher in pitch, his breathless gasping
growing more needy and desperate as he kept playing with his head, rubbing
circles around it and sliding his finger around his leaking hole. Yuu's thrusts
escalated to the point his rear was bouncing off the bed, the blanket sliding
off of his legs and exposing him to the open air. He didn't even care, so lost
in fantasies and overwhelming pleasure. It was hot and stuffy underneath them
anyways.
'Do you like it, Yuu?'
Oh- oh  god!
He could hear it, he could hear him right in his ear. That velvety and smooth
voice, calm and collected and so self-assured and saying his name for-goddamn-
once.
He came in spurts, his cock straining to pump out little bursts of white onto
his stomach. For the first time his life, he came so hard stars lit up his
vision. His sight was technically fine and his eyes were open, but he couldn't
see a damn thing past the film of bright white. He lost himself in the
afterglow for a while, unable to think beyond the satisfied haze clouding his
thoughts.
Slowly, he pulled himself together into coherent thought.
So... this meant that Yuu was attracted to Mika, right? He could grudgingly
admit, even from the beginning, that always kinda knew the bastard was pretty.
Though that initially just pissed him off more. It made him want to grind that
stupid, pretty face into unrecognizable mush.
But was it just physical?
Honestly, p-probably not? M-maybe? Once Mika opened up for the first time and
admitted those things about himself, about his family and his equal-opportunity
hatred for the world, everything about him kind of fell into place. At that
moment, Yuu could see something hiding just beneath the surface, and the more
he pushed and prodded the vampire, the more he could see it. That something was
the very last shreds of Mika's humanity, crying out for companionship and
purpose. Yuu could see it more than anyone.
Like Mika, he'd also lost his family at the hands of vampires. Granted, in this
world, everyone has lost someone in their lives to those damned leeches, but
Yuu was one of the few that could understand the emptiness of having nothing to
live for. Yuu found his purpose in his revenge and then in protecting his new
family, but Mika was still lost in that empty, solitary vacuum. Even if the
blonde didn't give any outward indication, Yuu knew from his own experiences
that Mika had to have felt that crushing loneliness for a century.
And with the way he practically attacked Yuu...
A-Anyways, regardless of the things he may or may not be feeling, he
reciprocated Mika's advances today. That probably meant he was at least
attracted to him. And, okay, so he could admit he always kinda thought that
Mika was pretty and liked kissing his face and stuff.
So. What now? What didn't he know? What about Mika?
Okay, so the blonde kissed him. Heck, Mika was the one that started this. Did
that mean he was attracted to Yuu too? Like, the vampire kissed him
and did... other things that Yuu was definitely not going to think about if he
didn't want to end up with the same fucking problem he just got over, holy
shit. He did all that even though he kept saying he wasn't into humans. Did
that mean he was always lying lying or...?
Ugh! This entire s-sex stuff was very new, and getting Mika's tongue
practically shoved down his throat and then being abandoned to take care of
himself didn't help Yuu at all!
It would be easier to figure this shit out if the squirrelly bastard would just
sit down and talk to him. Yuu was terrible at talking about these particular
kinds of feelings, you know, kissy feelings, but they would be easier to figure
out if he could have a goddamn conversation with the man without him running
away!
Thinking about Mika's face when he left, the way his face twisted like he was
physically hurt and the way he cringed away from Yuu, was equally revealing.
Truthfully, Mika looked scared. Touching was o-obviously familiar to him -Yuu
pushed away the vivid memories of his skillful tongue-, but maybe Mika didn't
know much about feelings either. Maybe even less than Yuu.
He was tired both from thinking so much about stuff he didn't normally think
about, and from coming harder than he ever had in his life. His eyelids grew
increasingly heavier. His last thoughts before dozing off was the scorching
forge iron will, the feel of determination settling into his mind like an
unbreakable stone wall. He definitely wanted to save Mika.
Chapter End Notes
     HAHAHA YOU THOUGHT IT WAS FINALLY SMUT BUT IT WAS I, YOUR ASSHOLE
     AUTHOR-
     But it was nice to get back into Yuu's headspace. He's easier to
     write than Mika, lol, because the vampire talks all fancy. It's
     'cause he's old. Anyways, next chapter will elaborate more on his
     side, so we can find out what's going on in that crusty old noggin'!
***** Bluebells *****
Chapter Notes
     So fun fact for you guys, Yuu-chan was originally still gonna be tied
     up. Yes. That's right. ORIGINALLY MIKA WAS GOING TO LEAVE YUU-CHAN
     WITH A BONER AND NO WAY TO RELIEVE HIMSELF HAHAAHAHA.
     Anyways, sorry for the delay guys! For those of you that don't know,
     the east coast of America got hit with a blizzard, and my state has
     seen record amounts of snow. I actually lost my power for a while and
     my friday and saturday has been spent shoveling snow at my house and
     both my grandparent's houses. Fun fact, I live in a pretty poor small
     town, and we couldn't afford salt this year, you know, to melt the
     ice on the roads. All we had was bulldozers. Problem is, those
     bulldozers push the snow from the roads and back onto our driveways,
     and the strong winds blew everything I shoveled back in place
     anyways, so I actually shoveled all of those houses twice each. By
     the end of the storm we got about 28 inches, which is about 71 cm for
     the metrically-minded. I think the storm, Jonas, killed about 48
     people or something.
     Oh and uh. Fun STORY! We had to go so far as to shovel our roofs for
     fear of them collapsing under the weight of the snow. GUESS WHO FELL
     OFF THE ROOF OF HER HOUSE? HA. HA. Ow.
     ((BELIEVE IT OR NOT I STILL LOVE SNOW AHAHAHA XD))
     And that aside, this chapter also took a while because I really hate
     it. I dunno why. I've just been really hating my writing lately. All
     of you are so sweet to say such nice things about GoH and my writing
     in general, but the more I think about it the more pressure I feel to
     give you guys the quality writing you deserve. All of the words end
     up feeling wrong, like I'm typing my way to disappointing all of you.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Mikaela’s flight was an entire blur, the colors of the castle complex colliding
and whirring into a hodgepodge river of hues, seamlessly bleeding into  one
another. He didn’t care where he ended up so long as it was as far away from
the cause of this overwhelming nausea, born from utter self-loathing and
powerful anxiety. 
He hasn’t felt this confused since the earliest moments of his second life. He
was not an overly contemplative person, nor did he ever try to analyze himself
or self-reflect. Mikaela was a practical person who preferred to keep in motion
and complete concrete goals than ponder for too long. Doing so never led a
pointless existence to anything.
The sheer extent that this situation has spiraled out of control was perhaps
the first utter failure he’s experienced in the better half of a century, and
it unsettled him to his deepest core. If one lived for nothing else than the
simplicity of completing his missions with pragmatism and efficiency, how was
he supposed to cope with failing so completely?
The tightness of his pants was just a slap in the face; every step he took
dragged the choking squeeze the fabric had across his hardness, teasing it with
the friction. With one foot in front of the other, again and again, Mikaela
hated himself and that damn boy all the more. He was appalled with the break in
his own morality, nearly taking advantage of a prisoner like that, and
disgusted with himself for desiring a human even on a shallow, physical level. 
That had to be what this is. A shallow, physical attraction to a human with
features he had acknowledged as objectively attractive, even from the first
day. The blonde just allowed himself to forget that appeal for this long
because of Yuuichirou’s ability to inflict a special brand of migraine in the
blonde.
He wasn’t going to entertain this- whateverit was. Mikaela attended his duties
and left himself untouched, salvaging what little shreds of pride he could
retain for himself.
When the time came to feed him, Mikaela came thisclose to turning his back on
his duty and letting the human go hungry for a day. It certainly wouldn’t kill
a creature that starved itself for nearly a week on the power of spite alone.
But willfully abandoning his responsibilities went against every single grain
that composed his makeup. If he was ashamed of himself for these various lapses
in control, he could never forgive himself for deliberately abandoning his
standards.
So when he entered the room, Mikaela decided he didn’t even want to acknowledge
the boy. Didn’t want to touch him, or look at him, or do anything that would
indicate his awareness of his existence, save for the absolute necessities.
Yuuichirou was buried in his bed, back stubbornly stuck facing Mika from
underneath the blankets, which were pulled up to his nose in a veritable
cocoon.
“Are you sick again?” He found himself asking, if only because he would have to
take care of him again.
The boy flipped himself over, green eyes obstinately glaring at the blonde from
his nest of fabric. “N-No.” He muttered with a muffled voice.
Then he must be feeling wary of Mikaela, what with what transpired yesterday.
It should feel pleasing to finally be given the respect and fear that was
naturally due from a prisoner of war that was perhaps the most stubborn
individual he’d ever known, but the knowledge of what he’d done just made him
sick. He never wanted anyone to fear sexual violation from him.
But perhaps it was for the better. At least this way he wasn't going to cause
him trouble.
There was a large wet stain on the sheets. He distracted himself with it and
hoped the human would throw an obnoxious tantrum to remind Mikaela of
everything about him that annoyed the vampire. “Did you relieve yourself on the
mattress?” He droned, but knew it was water. Urine had a strong odor that he
was unfortunately acquainted with during his role this past month. The bedding
was a wrinkled mess, bunched underneath the corners of the mattress in clumps,
as if the human pulled them off and then tried to redress his bed. Horribly, to
boot.
Why would the human throw water on his bed?
The boy’s face caught on fire with the deepest shade of scarlet Mika has ever
seen, outside of fresh blood. He gurgled on whatever he was going to say next
and threw himself under the blankets.
He looked at the little lump under the sheets with an expression that could
only be appropriately used in the other context of watching Four Horseman in
synchronized choreography to “Танец Феи Драже”. 
A, ‘What the fuck?’ face, if you will.
Still, this was for the best. He wordlessly set the container of rations on the
bed and went on his way. By now, any pretense of control or domination was
rendered invalid by the human’s will, so going through the trouble of feeding
him or having him feed was a waste of time. Besides, he was willing eating now.
Blankets made a staccato ruffling sound. “W-Wait! Hold up! I wanna talk to
you!” The soft pitter-patter of bare feet on wooden floors alerted Mikaela that
he needed to dodge nowor else get another armful of naked human.
He stepped to the side and successfully evaded the threat of bare arms circling
around him, but to his surprise, that wasn’t what Yuuichirou was going for at
all. Instead, he kept running ahead, blocking the path to the door with his
body as if that frail thing could stop a vampire.
Mikaela pinched the bridge of his nose. “What are you doing?” He asked tiredly,
with a flat, long-suffering tone.
“W-We need to talk. About- about yesterday.” The boy licked his dry lips, the
motion careening Mikaela’s memories back to the events of yesterday and
knocking the wind out of him.
Even while trying to ignore him, the vampire’s lips instinctively tingled at
the sight of the warm glow of Yuuichirou’s flesh, his tongue fondly remembering
the taste. The boy was clearly talking, plush, pink lips moving and the smooth
hum of his young voice filling the vampire’s ears, but it was washed out and
distant like the warble of underwater sounds. 
He redirected his attention, his eyes, his thoughtsto anywhere else on the boy,
only to be assaulted with more memories. When he looked at his lips, his
remembered the taste. When he looked at his sides, he remembered the soft feel
underneath his palm. When he looked at his eyes, he remembered the glazed,
longing look for more.
The more he tried to ignore the appeal of Yuuichirou, the more it stood out in
defiance of his willfulness. The more he consciously forced himself to ignore
it, the more conspicuous it became. It was like the boy was insufferably
contrary without even trying to be.
Mikaela used his vampire speed to his advantage and left the room faster than
human eyes could process his movement. He couldn’t deal with this. Damn
controlling the human. Damn fighting for dominance. Damn that creature.
 
===============================================================================
 
He was surprised when Krul summoned him for what she called a “progress
report”. Looking back, that sort of thing made logical sense, but she hasn’t
asked for anything like that until now, so he wasn’t sure what made her
suddenly request one this late in Yuuichirou’s captivity.
But the one thing he really wanted to know was why Feridwas allowed to sit in
during his report. 
“And it’s still shown no sign of submission?” She asked, tapping her fingers
against the armrest of her throne as he summed up Yuuichirou’s mental and
physical state.
He shook his head. “No. I’ve tried everything within my capacity and the human
still retains his obstinacy.”
“Clearly a limited capacity.” The other male said slyly, speaking for the first
time during the report. That’s a shame. For a second Mikaela had gotten his
hopes up that someone finally cut out his vocal chords and served them to a
human child. “I would have it broken in by the second day.” 
“Your Highness, whyis that thing here?” He asked wearily, massaging his temples
over the mocking sound of Ferid’s theatrical cries of how cruel and mean he
was. 
“Ferid Bathory has staked a political bid on Yuuichirou.” Krul replied with the
enthusiasm of watching rocks grow. She was clearly displeased. “Unfortunately,
he’s popular enough among the nobles to have some clout.”
Why would she suddenly care about the other nobles? Krul was queen. Regardless
of their approval or disapproval, it was her right to order whatever she saw
fit. 
Mikaela, however, saw the perfect opportunity to get him- it- getit away from
him. “Ferid…” He began, very ready to give Yuuichirou- it- ready to give it
away to Ferid.
Ferid, who was infamous for his sadism. Ferid, who would likely torture
Yuuichirou and kill him. The words were lodged in his throat, a large lump
stuck right in the center, as Mikaela remembered warmth pressed against him and
then felt it sapped away all at once.
It would be easy, all he’d have to do is opening his mouth and say- “Ferid is
an irresponsible, sadistic oaf and the human will die under his watch. I
refuse.” Someone spoke while images of green light winking out of existence and
verdant fire extinguishing flickered in his mind’s eye. 
Someone else spoke? No- that was Mikaela’s voice, right?
…What? 
Why did he-?! 
Krul smirked and shrugged carelessly, but she radiated smug amusement. “You
heard the Captain. Denied.”
“…Why do you even want him anyways?” He asked with a dull roar in his ear, like
it was someone else controlling his mouth with unknown machinations. He could
just hear the obnoxious, mechanical hum of whatever device they were using and
wished he could smack them with it. The other two looked at him at once, the
sudden interest in their gazes unnerving him. What did he say?
Ferid’s lips curled into something far too amused for Mikaela’s liking. The
silver-haired noble shrugged loftily. “What can I say? This human is such a
darling little angel.”
Mikaela would have snorted and muttered a derisive comment about the human’s
unattractive stubbornness and overall lack of anything resembling darling, if
it weren’t for the look on the Queen’s face. She looked like she swallowed a
lemon and had been punched in the stomach for trying to spit it out.
He narrowed his eyes. “Is there something either of you would like to tell me?”
“Of course not.” Ferid soothed, instantly setting Mikaela’s teeth on edge. “I
was merely assuring the queen that I know his true nature-“
“So how is Auriel doing?” She said with a sweet smile, the kind she only smiled
when she was going to bring down the axe and enjoy it. He would know because he
picked up the expression himself. “I hear his punishment wasn’t kind to him.”
The silver-haired noble hummed. “Who can say? I rarely speak to him.”
“Oh? You think conspirators would keep in closer contact.” So she knew about
their treasonous collaboration; Mikaela wanted to know why Ferid’s head wasn’t
rolling on the floor. 
“Yes, conspirators stick together because allies hold no duplicity.” He said,
and it made Krul’s fists clench and her knuckles turn white.
“It’s a good thing, because no one would listen to a traitor.” 
“Then they would have nothing to lose, would they?”
It was like he wasn’t even there. Their back and forth was clearly layered with
double meanings Mikaela was lacking too much information to follow. 
“Nothing to lose but their life, Bathory. Your Prince has already denied your
request; I think you’re done here. Dismissed.” She said coldly. The vampire
made a light and unruffled little shrug, but even as he turned with a dramatic
flair of his cape, his face radiated smug satisfaction. He was pleased by
whatever transpired.
"Now that the pest is gone, we can talk seriously. Don't think I don't know
about the curry." Krul said, when the door clicked shut with an echo that rang
across her throne room.
When he first speculated what she would do when she caught what he'd done,
Mikaela thought she would probably tease him or at least scold him. Instead,
his progenitor's face tightened into something inscrutable.
“I suggest you don’t get attached to it, for your sake.”
He wanted raise a sarcastic eyebrow and say there was no chance of that ever
happening, didn’t the Queen know who he was, but the words caught in his throat
before he could spit them out. The implications of his hesitancy made him feel
sick.
“Hold on for just a bit more. Not much longer until it’s all ready. Then I’ll
tell you everything.” She said.
 
===============================================================================
 
With the deeply unsettling events that unfolded earlier, it was obvious this
was going to be a persistent problem. Clearly, Mikaela needed to find a
solution, and he had been toying with an idea for some time, in the back of his
mind.
Vampires can have sex. They are biologically capable. However, by the time one
reaches a century or so, the novelty of such a base drive loses its appeal.
There are exceptions, of course. Mikaela knows of a three-hundred year old
vampiress that still enjoys the occasional roll in the sheets, as well as a
handful of individuals around his age that still sleep around.
Like those vampires, Mikaela is also his own exception. He’d lost interest
completely relatively early in his eternal life, around the age of seventy.
Most newborns were sexually active well into their first century.
He hasn’t orgasmed in about sixty years. Perhaps he was physically pent up, or
simply coiled too tightly. Mikaela was a severe and uncompromising individual,
one who took his responsibilities and self-discipline very seriously. In his
empty life, there was little else but the satisfaction of completed orders to
give him anything that resembled purpose. He prioritized efficiency,
accountability, and practicality above all else.
He was just now realizing such qualities made him a taciturn, high-stress
individual with little outlets in his life. 
The closest thing he had to a “hobby” was his free time spent running the
sparring grounds. As a captain, he had authority to oversee spars and instruct
lower-ranking officers. The city guard in particular frequented his little
abode of sword and barely-contained mortal violence. Day after day of
stationary work and never seeing battle risked blunting the guard’s combat
ability. Mikaela and his pit offered to rectify that.
Other than that, many vampires saw it as a fair way to settle arguments.
Whoever successfully beat the other into the ground wins the debate. A simple
and easy solution for beings that wanted to avoid arguments that could stretch
for decades. Which was par for the course for individuals that lived so long. 
He almost snorted derisively, because it wasn’t like there was much else for
his kind to live for. Other than to hold petty grudges for centuries, gorge on
blood like pigs, and abuse humans, there wasn’t much point to eternal life as a
vampire.
And that duty, one that most would consider a chore, was the closest thing
Mikaela had to resemble the concept of “fun”. The lack of a proper outlet added
merit to the theory that he was simply pent up and didn’t realize it. It was
certainly a logical explanation for his unsavory behavior and discomfiting
feelings.
So the natural solution would be to relieve himself. 
He holed up in one of the many spare guest rooms of the massive castle and
undid his slacks. The blonde stared at himself, feeling somewhat ludicrous at
the thought of the sight he made: a blond man glaring severely at his dick,
like it was a particularly offensive enemy. Being reduced to sitting in an
armchair like this, all because of some human, made him feel foolish and only
added more stress, which blocked him from getting a rise. This was certainly
the opposite of ‘unwinding’. His hand, which was uselessly stroking his flaccid
cock, stuttered to a halt. 
This was useless. He was thinking too much and it made it impossible to feel
any pleasure from the pressure of his hand. How pathetic was he to be at his
age and experience, to have these problems? He wasn’t some spring whelp; he
knew his body well, knew what his body liked, and knew how to get off. To
struggle like this was embarrassing and frustrating.
Mikaela massaged his temples. Perhaps he just needed another body to distract
his thoughts, which buzzed around his mind like a jostled nest of hornets. 
Finding an interested body to warm his bed wasn’t very difficult. Few vampires
were around his age, so the ones that still enjoyed the occasional roll in the
sheets were infamous and well known.
To vampires, sex was, at best, an unfortunate “phase” the young ones went
through and a shameful scandal the distasteful older ones refused to grow out
of. At worst, sex was a nauseatingly vulgar livestock activity that was best
saved for the rest of the animals.
Needless to say, Mikaela’s relative promiscuity as a newborn vampire was, aside
from a juicy bit of gossip, nothing close to a novelty and in no way gave
vampires the impression that he was an open, easy person. Sex held no meaning
between vampires.
He found a partner for the night in a male guard with soft black hair and
smaller body and decided on his place. He might introduced himself, but Mikaela
didn’t care to learn his name. 
It went well enough at first; the blonde systematically stripped off his noble
uniform and waited impatiently for the guard to finish wrestling out of his.
They rolled onto the sheets, him on his back, hands wandering over each other.
The other vampire leaned down to lock their lips and he found himself turning
his head away faster than he could think about whether or not he suddenly had a
problem with something he’d never considered significant before. 
“No kissing.” Mikaela grunted, not entirely sure why he was so adamant about
this but too admittedly desperate to prove to himself that there was nothing
wrong with him to care to analyze.
“Uh, alright.” He muttered, clearly confused why he would be picky about
something so inconsequential. The guard leaned down, bowing his head to suckle
on his collar. All Mikaela could see was a mass of soft black hair, finally
giving him some sort of interested buzz.
Something hard and pointy prickled against his flesh, sending the blonde
careening downwards back to a reality he was beginning to find unpleasant. He
suddenly gripped narrow shoulders and flipped their positions, hovering over a
visibly surprised guard.
He furrowed dark eyebrows. “Something the matter?” He asked, evidently
beginning to sense something off with his bedmate.
“No… no. Nothing.” Mikaela muttered, not even convincing himself, much less the
increasingly annoyed vampire below him. He was growing increasingly confused
with his erratic behavior; fangs had never bothered him before.
He ran his hands down the guard’s sides, stopping at his chest to thumb at his
nipple, earning a sharp breath. The blonde leaned down to nip at his sternum
while his one free hand began stimulate their members together, both lengths
wrapped in a single hand. It should have felt arousing, but it felt clinical,
like he was going through a set of motions memorized long ago. 
The guard, not one to lie still, began to wander his hands across Mikaela’s
body, trailing across his ribs and tracing patterns onto his back.
And nothing felt warm. Not the flesh beneath Mikaela’s palm; not the wandering
hands exploring his body. It all felt barren and empty.
He swatted the probing hands away. “No, no.” The blonde muttered, mystified by
how wrong everything felt. To his mortified horror, he was still limp, even
after all of the other vampire’s and his own ministrations.
The other vampire hissed impatiently, obviously irritated. "Do you want to fuck
or not?" He said sourly, rolling ruby eyes. The color was just pissing him off
more. "All you've done is complain and it's a serious turn-off."
He slid off the body below him. “I think we’re done.” He said with a clipped,
angry tone. Both at the partner he picked tonight for being unable to validate
him and at himself, for being this pathetic to begin with.
“I heard you were supposed to be fun. Are you always this bitchy?” The guard
grumbled, fed up with Mikaela’s unresponsiveness and odd behavior throughout
their encounter. He responded with a vicious kick to his head. Watching the
body fly was, so far, the only remotely satisfying thing to happen all night
but unfortunately did nothing to help his problem.
He redressed and stormed out of the other vampire’s apartment, physically ill
with the most humiliation he’s felt in a century. That was a disaster.
Now he was angry with no particular individual he could take it out on,
confused at his own body’s bizarre changes in behavior, mortified after an
entire day of making an utter fool of himself, and stillfrustrated.
Chapter End Notes
     P-please look forward to next chapter? AAaaaah I dunno I'm just still
     not sure about this chapter. Right now it definitely stands out as
     the one I still think is awful. I literally had to hype myself up and
     talk myself into posting it.
     **EDIT** Whoops! Almost forgot this! "Танец Феи Драже" is Russian for
     "Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy", which is part of the Russian ballet,
     "The Nutcracker". Old man Mika be classy af. I just figured that
     since I already decided to make him Russian, just with a Japanese
     dad, I might as well take advantage of some of that background.
***** Hyacinth *****
Chapter Summary
     Nothing happens in this chapter. Nope. Nothing. You should just go
     ahead and 'X' out because absolutely nothing of interest happens
     here. Boredom Boulevard ahead, close your window to avoid this
     significantly unexciting detour on your road of life.
Chapter Notes
     Oh my GOD! Everyone was SO freaking nice last chapter! Thanks for all
     the kind words everyone, they really made me feel better about
     everything ;u; I'm not gonna lie, I still get subconscious as I write
     these chapters, but I think about all the wonderful responses
     everyone took the time to send me and I get another boost of energy!
     Whew! What a long chapter though! This is why I prefer to split them
     up into ~3000 word chapters. Everyone doesn't have to wait as long
     for an update.
     Also my cat is sleeping on my ass. Freyr is now dubbed "Asscat." Fear
     Asscat and his poorly-timed, mildly inconvenient cuddles! The horror!
     Tremble all ye mortals before the ass that sleeps on cats NO WAIT-
     Ah, just so everyone knows, all foreign dialogue will feature
     translations at the end note.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
With the events that happened the night before, he was naturally in a foul
temper by the time he was due to feed Yuuichirou again, and confronting the
cause of all of his grief did nothing to calm his storm of emotions.
He angrily slammed the tray down on the desk, the containers rattling
precariously. He didn't care if they spilled, still burning with humiliation
from yesterday. It didn't help that he could hear hushed murmurs at his back
wherever he went; that guard certainly didn't take his time to tell the entire
city about their disastrous night.
"What's up with you?" Yuuichirou asked, for once perspective enough to notice
his tempestuous mood but, as always, too stupid to take heed of it.
Mikaela shot him a hateful glare. “I wish I could hand you over to someone
else.” He said bitterly. Then he would still be comfortable with his place in
life, and not lost in this confusion and left questioning himself like this.
Everything would still make sense, and he wouldn’t be making a fool out of
himself in front of a population that already held only the most grudging
respect for him.
Yuuichirou huffed. “Well, I’m glad you can’t, because I have questions for you
about… that time.” He said, leaving his nest of blankets. Mikaela pointedly
refused to look at him, even when he heard the soft slapping of bare feet on
wooden floors grow in volume as the human crept closer to him.
“Why won’t you forgetabout that? It was just a mistake. ” He said tiredly,
pinching the bridge of his nose. With all his being, he wanted to write
everything from these few days off as the kind of accident where you forget
your shift at guard duty or leave a faucet on or can't recall someone's name.
“What? No way- I can’tjust wipe that from my brain!” Yuuichirou baulked,
sounding offended by the mere suggestion. “And you started it, remember?”
The blonde screwed his face up, gutted by the accusation and left to pick up
his own entrails. "Well now I'm ending 'it'." He said, forming air quotes with
his fingers. He still wanted to believe there was nothing to be ended, even if
he knew at his core that something imperceptible has changed in this dynamic,
floating underneath the surface of his disdain and Yuuichirou's bizarre
personality and special brand of idiocy. "Do not attempt to continue this
dialogue. I will not entertain it."
Mikaela pushed past the boy and shrugged off his attempts to grab him with the
ease of swatting a fly. Regardless of whatever he may or may not be feeling,
Krul wanted something from this boy, and when that time came he would no longer
be Mikaela's responsibility. Entertaining this... this anomaly would be an
exercise in the highest futility. He shut the door over the muted sound of
angry, frustrated hollering. Ironically, it was not vampires's lack of
cooperation that was infuriating the human.
 He tuned out memories of Yuuichirou's protests and suppressed conscious
thought into a quiet buzz. He didn't want to think anymore, about anything.
Maybe he'll go to his sparring pit. Mindlessly beating on some hapless guards
might relieve his stress, if nothing else. From his muted perception, he could
make out a smothered crashing sound in the furthest distance of his attention's
reach. The human probably threw something against his door-
“Goddammit you!” A loud, angry shriek echoed through the gleaming marble
floors, bouncing off the stone walls and drilling into Mikaela's ears like
someone took a hammer to his auditory senses.
For a seconds, just a split second, he allowed himself to entertain the idea
that this was a dream. That maybe he really did sleep with that guard and
stayed the night. Uncharacteristic of him, but certainly no more surreal than
the notion that Mikaela was dreading. Because for the past two weeks, the
blonde had slipped into a comfortable confidence that the human's sense of
modesty would prevent him from attempting escape. In that trust in a seemingly
simple truth, Mikaela had grown accustomed to leaving the door unlocked.
The door was unlocked.
The soft slapping of bare feet grew in volume.
Mikaela turned around and confronted, in these few seconds, the evidence that
he'd grown contentedly careless in every sense of the word.
Yuuichirou was chasing after him, stark naked in a hallway where anyone could
walk by. And they were certainly not the only ones in this castle. His sharp
hearing could pick up the click of many boots another hall down, charging their
position. White fabric swished through the air in a blurred veil of movement,
dragging after the vampire's imperceptibly swift rush towards the most baffling
creature he'd ever had the misfortune of meeting. This was the one thing he'd
been so certain of. He'd never imagined that this stupidly young boy, the very
same one that blushed and hid his nudity under blankets like a demure
flower, would forget his arbitrary modesty and charge into public space, naked
as the day he was born.
'An idiot and a fool too stupid to read.' He though, while indulging in a
stream of curses in every language he knew.
“H-Hey-!” The human squeaked when Mikaela appeared before him in a blur and a
rush of wind. The boy yelped when a gloved hand latched onto his wrist like the
clamp of a manacle and yanked him closer. He wrapped his right arm around
Yuuichirou's narrow shoulders and caged him tightly against his front; clutched
in his right hand was the edge of his cape, draping the human in the white
fabric and wrapping it around his bare body. 
The human sputtered in a mix of awkward confusion as he tried to catch up to
his current position and the events leading up to it, because Mikaela moved
very fast. The clicks of many heeled boots on marbled floors grew louder. He
counted four shoes, meaning two guards, while the boy pressed into his chest
caught on and abruptly turned white.
The patrol pair turned the corner to the odd sight of the infamous captain and
technical prince of Sanguinem, idly standing in the middle of a random hallway
with an armful of human pressed close to him, warm like a little furnace.
"Isn't that...?" One of them murmured, laughably failing to be discreet.
The other one, taller and with loud copper hair, poorly hid a mockingly amused
little smirk. Evidently they'd both heard the recent gossip. "Sir, we heard
yelling. Is there a problem?"
Mikaela would normally feel some level of furious humiliation, an intolerable
injury to his pride, the one thing he could definitely say gave him anything
resembling drive and purpose in his second life. But all of that was muted into
a distant, thunderous roar against the tidal wave of that same thing that
prevented him from granting Bathory his duties. It swept away the emotional
clutter like a torrent of rain on the street and, with the clarity of
rainwater, washed away muck, revealing the hidden core as protective urges.
“Leave.” He said, face a bedrock of stoicism.
The indiscreet one furrowed his brows. “Uh- sir?”
His patrol partner had the gall to smother a snicker, and the rainwater dried
up.
All of his rage, all of that horrible combination of irritation, self-loathing,
and unbelievably mounting stress reached a toxic boiling point in this instant,
and Mikaela found two perfect targets for his unimpeded wrath at the other end
of the hall. “Ostavit' ili ya budu rvat' kishki i kormit' ikh k vam!” Mikaela
blasted them with an angry scream in his native tongue. His threats tore
through his throat, fangs bared into a snarl and red eyes flashing menacingly.
It didn’t even matter if his words sounded like foreign gibberish to the other
vampires; their eyes widened into giant saucers at the uncharacteristic display
of explosive temper from the infamously aloof and inscrutable captain.
The pair was completely terrorized.
“S-Shit-!”
“Yes- yes sir!”
They spun on their heel so fast Mikaela was dully surprised they didn’t twist
their own ankles out of socket; the pair fled like the flames of hell itself
was at their heels, the very picture of pups with their tails between their
legs. Whimpering and all. He watched their flight until both guard disappeared
around the corner they came from.
What he and Yuuichirou were left with was a silence that settled heavily over
the air like a inscrutable fog; he could probably cut the heavy atmosphere with
his sword, if he weren't so tired for the violent torrent of emotions. He
wasn't used to feeling anything other than mild annoyance and, otherwise, the
emotional void of a clear, but pathetically empty sense of purpose. He hadn't
fought anyone in his sparring center today, but he already felt his energy
sapped away.
Perhaps Yuuichirou was truly the parasitic entity here.
The boy was pressed so tightly against him that he had to crane his neck to
look at him. He wet his lips nervously. "So-"
"Shut up." He said, tone a flat and stony wall like the ones surrounding them,
impermeable and inscrutable for emotion. Because, paradoxically, his mind was
simultaneously alive with clutter and buzzing with inner conflict on what he'd
just done, and too tired to feel them at all. There was too much for anything
to be expressed and too little to express.
Yuuichirou was uncharacteristically obedient, silent even when the blond tucked
his arm underneath the boy's knees and easily lifted him off his feet. He
endured being picked up and carried to his room like a woman, a child, and
something as delicate as a bride. He could guess the look in his wide, vivid
green eyes was something like a heated spark of attraction, awe, surprise, or
maybe just barely-suppressed anger. But Mikaela knew one thing and that was the
fact that he actually didn't know anything anymore, not even about himself, let
alone what this inscrutable boy could possibly be thinking.
So he kept his guesses and kicked the door shut behind him, the abused hinges
croaking in protest. He set the boy to his feet, his warm body still tucked
precariously and invitingly close to the blonde's. Those words went hand-in-
hands with Yuuichirou, an alarmingly alluring flower or fruit, one that would
most likely poison upon the first pick or bite. Maybe he's already been
poisoned.
He waited for the boy to back away, to put space between his naked, vulnerable
form and the dangerous monster that preyed upon his kind, but he didn't.
Yuuichirou stayed in his spot, pressed so close to Mikaela that the vampire
could feel his heat cover him like a blanket. Maybe because he could sense as
well that all of the lines that should never be crossed between two such as
them was blurred into nonsense that couldn't be sorted out with the same
excuses anymore.
Was Mikaela attracted to this lowly creature? One he'd cleaned like a filthy
animal and compared to a farmer's livestock? He lifted a gloved hand and
cradled the cheek of someone he should be thinking of as a 'something'. While a
barrier of fabric blocked the contact, the heat radiated from Yuuichirou's skin
kissed his hands like a furnace and his cheek felt no less soft.
The stir in his core that this simplest of touch raised in him resounded a
shameful 'yes'. Yes, he was horrifically, shamefully attracted to this human
boy, and Mikaela had nowhere to run from it anymore. Not the privacy of his
bedroom, and not the company of others- there was no place he could hide from
this.
The room was void of sound save for their quiet breathing, and the tension in
the atmosphere was choking, stifling. But the silence felt somehow right, and
speaking would be like setting off a bomb, shattering the quiet, charged air
that neither of them could bring themselves to break.
He startled at the hot trail of a small palm tracing up his arm; Yuuichirou
reciprocated his touch with a hand on the back of Mikaela's neck, burrowing
through thick blond strands and twisting them around little fingers. The direct
contact of skin shot electricity down his spin and made the small hairs on the
back of his neck stand, as if they were reaching out for more. Anyone could
walk in and mistake them for two lovers trading heated gazes, locked in a
tender embrace.
His thumb grazed circles into the softness of Yuuichirou's cheek, while the boy
played around with the small hairs on his nape, brushing his fingers through
the short golden strands and tracing random patterns into his skin. All of
this was a mistake, but it was one Mikaela couldn't take back. He leaned in and
condemned himself, pressing his lips against Yuuichirou's and letting the silky
feel brush against his own, chaste yet firm. He couldn't write this off as the
unintended product of sexual frustration, or an accident caused by his pent-up
libido for something else. Mikaela was fully aware of what he'd done.
Maybe he was disgusted with himself; Maybe he was too tired of running and
of questioning himself and of being confused to care about whether he should
be.
Yuuichirou didn't shy away from Mikaela's touch. He didn't look disgusted or
angry or humiliated like when he was first fed his water. The blonde couldn't
say what the human was feeling, but could guess from his parted lips and wide
green eyes that he was equally captured.
"You should stop me." He murmured, shattering the silence with something that
should have sounded commanding or taunting, challenging. He was painfully aware
that it was closest to pleading.
He leaned down and joined their lips again with another light brush. Yuuichirou
was calm and accepted his touch, even closing his eyes, willingly submitting to
an even more vulnerable position by blinding himself.
They separated by the inches, breath fanning over each other. "Tell me to
stop." Then he could pretend to forget about how delightfully warm Yuuichirou
made him feel when they were pressed together like this, down to his very core.
He could go so far as to say it might have felt like life itself. Mikaela could
pretend to forget that he'd ever kissed him like this and enjoyed it more than
anything else he'd known in this life, could pretend to have never felt the
widest range of emotions at the greatest intensity he'd felt in decades.
He could never forget and didn't hold any delusions that he could. But he could
pretend to.
And again. Their lips met with a chaste but solid contact, and Mikaela lingered
for just a few seconds longer before he pulled away. "If you don't, I don't
know what will happen." He said, voice barely even a whisper but easily audible
in the absolute silence of the room. Except Mikaela knows fully well what will
happen if they don't stop this, if Yuuichirou doesn't regain his senses and
realizes that he's kissing a vampire that's held him captive for over month and
Mikaela doesn't remember that he's kissing a being that shouldn't be any more
relevant than a dairy cow. 
But Yuuichirou merely tightened his grasp around the fine hairs on his nape
with a look of firm determination, his green eyes alight like the glowing
embers in a fireplace. The boy leaned up and closed the gap between them
himself, standing slightly on his toes to compensate their height difference.
And Mikaela let him.
He wrapped his other arm around the boy's delicate waist, feeling the warmth of
his body with his gloved palm. Yuuichirou's other hand joined the one in his
hair, toying with the golden strands with gentle tugs. They each tightened
their holds on each other, pressing their bodies together and leaving no gap
between them save for the barrier of Mikaela's clothes.
Yuuichirou's lips were parted, so utterly, stupefyingly relaxed in Mikaela's
arms. The blonde slipped in his tongue inside, his slick muscle stroking the
sensitive roof of his mouth. If the human's skin was warm and pleasant, than
his mouth was outright molten. Below him, Yuuichirou moaned softly, the sweet
sound muffled by the press of their lips. His tongue hang still, shy and
uncertain; he stroked it encouragingly, coaxing Yuuichirou into joining him in
a wet dance, the muscles twisting and wrapping around each other. As he
expected, the boy in his arms was clumsy and inexperienced, his tongue
awkwardly crashing into his instead of sensually sliding against him.
Mikaela found that he didn't mind what would have been an intolerable amount of
fumbling around, coming from anyone else.
His neck began to ache and Yuuichirou began to shake in his hold- constantly
bending and stretching forth to join their mouths was beginning to put an
uncomfortable strain on their bodies. He backed him into the side of his
gaudily sized bed, the edge knocking into the backs of the boy's knees and
toppling him backwards. He squeaked like a small, startled mouse.
He followed Yuuichirou's descent, crawling up the bed while the human scooted
back on his elbows to rest his head on the pillows. Mikaela aligned their
faces, his taller body stretching beyond his and easily caging his smaller,
naked form. For a minute, they merely gazed at each other, Mikaela wondering
how things had lead up to this moment and only guessing what Yuuichirou could
be thinking.
Desire, almost foreign in its long absence, burned in the pit of Mikaela's
belly as if the heat the boy radiated lit a fire inside. Erratic, charged
energy hummed beneath the surface of his skin and made his fingertips tingle.
Slender arms wrapped around his neck, holding him close. Yuuichirou licked his
dry lips and his red eyes followed the movement. "Are you gonna run away
again?" He asked with swollen lips.
He leaned down and nosed along his jaw, resting his lips on his pulse point.
"No." He said, closing his lips around the skin and sucking it until it turned
red, earning a small mewl. He could feel the flutter of Yuuichirou's heartbeat
beneath his tongue, like the beat of a fragile hummingbird's wings. It made his
fangs ache, a reminder that this boy was contentedly placing himself beneath a
monster.
Mikaela wouldn't be able to stop himself even if he tried. Not this time. He
was restless, burning with the scorching heat of desire that made his libido
dance like it was standing on hot coals. Contrary to every issue Mikaela
experienced the night before, he was now thoroughly aroused when he had this
warm, soft little body beneath him. This is what was missing yesterday.
Yuuichirou. 
The boy turned his head to the side and smothered a moan with the back of his
hand, further baring his neck to Mikaela. He took advantage of the exposed
expanse of skin and dove in like a bird of prey, sucking little red patches
onto his neck. Every mark was soothed with long, languid strokes with the flat
of his tongue and the lightest brush with his fangs. The hard feel of the
pointed tips made the body below him shudder and writhe like a little snake,
and he couldn't stifle the heady surge of satisfaction. 
His hands, which were innocuously still since they crawled into his bed, began
to wander the warm planes of Yuuichirou's body, running up and down his sides.
They occasionally snuck around to the round globes of his ass and squeezed
them, which made the boy squeak in embarrassment. The blonde nibbled on his
adams apple, enjoying the way it bobbed against his lips with every breath and
mewl he made. Encouraged by his responsiveness, Mikaela's thumb drifted up,
pressing lightly on Yuuichirou's pink nipple and rubbing gentle circles around
the bud. He whined and his narrow chest arched into his hand, rolling against
his thumb for more contact.
"C-Can't you take those of?" Yuuichirou sounded different, breathy, husky- the
sweet voice of desire. One of his small hands clasped Mikaela's, tugging
clumsily on gloves. He answered with a nip on his chin before sitting up on his
haunches, straddling his lithe form. He bit the base of his right glove and
slowly dragged it off with his mouth, feeling a heady buzz underneath the green
eyes tracking his every movement and relishing the look of gobsmacked arousal
on the boy's face.
"U-Uh..." The wide-eyed human croaked in a strangled, awkward gurgle.
He peeled off various layers of his uniform- the cloak, the overcoat, the boots
and belt, with some measure of impatience. He was down to untucking his thin
black button-up when his restlessness got the better of him and he swooped back
down again, comprising with his final layers if it meant he could get back to
enveloping himself in Yuuichirou's warmth again.
Beneath him, Yuuichirou looked dissatisfied and tugged disapprovingly on his
shirt. "H-Hey, that's not everythi- Mmph!" Mikaela cut off his protests with
his tongue, easily sliding the slick muscle inside and rolling it against its
partner, flicking the tip against the back of his human teeth and running it
across the harmless, blunt points of his canines. He separated to allow the boy
air, watching him gulp his oxygen with greedy pants and a red face, but never
letting him fully clear his dizzy head. He was too impatient; his lips chased
Yuuichirou's breath like a starving animal, over and over, crushing their lips
together and ravaging his mouth. It was like he was trying to take his vitality
through his tongue.
"I can't-!" He gasped raggedly before Mikaela sealed their mouths again,
sucking on the boy's tongue. "I can't breathe-!" He turned his head away, so
out of breath that his chest shook with every dizzy gasp. He looked like he'd
been running a marathon rather than locking tongues with Mikaela. He didn't
miss a beat, taking opportunistic advantage of his exposed ears and latching
onto the lobe with his lips, gently rolling the soft flesh between his teeth.
Yuuichirou's ears were especially sensitive, the way they made him lewdly cry
out into the air.
"You are a kissy-freak." He said dazedly, with a lax and unfocused look in his
eye. He was visibly lightheaded from the lack of proper oxygen intake.
To his surprise, Mikaela snorted into his ear, and the gust of air directly
into the sensitive nerves made the boy keen and buck his hips. He didn't make a
habit of laughing or smiling. The last time he'd actually laughed out loud,
unironically, was... Did he even remember?
He gripped his delicate chin and turned his face back towards his. The feel of
Yuuichirou's silky, heated body directly on Mikaela's lukewarm and passionless
skin was like a lightning strike. From the tip of his scalp to the ends of his
toes, he felt an electrifying current that made his toes curl and the small
hairs on his nape rise. He leaned back down before he could derail into
another tangent on the relative pointlessness of his immortal life. He didn't
want to think anymore. Not right now. "M-More-?" The boy tried to complain, but
Mikaela captured his red, swollen lips for his own, lapping at his bottom lip
before taking it in and sucking on it.
His hands, brave, eager, desperate to feel more, touch more, and experience
more of the closest thing to a wellspring of life on this earth, began to
explore the soft planes of Yuuichirou's body, one hand tenderly stroking his
inner thigh, while the other teasingly pinched the pebble of his nipple and
rolled it with his forefinger and thumb. The boy released a high keen and threw
his head back, his entire body shuddering and wriggling beneath his palms,
lips, and tongue. He hasn't once touched Yuuichirou's sensitive hole or member,
but already he could feel wetness leak through his shirt.
He outright squealed when the vampire leaned down and began to suck on his rosy
little bud, opening his mouth wide and dragging the flat of his tongue across
his chest, pressing hard onto the sweet pink center and gently nipping on it
with his fangs. "A-Ah! Mi-Mika, slow down-!" He whined, choking on a gasp and
squeezing his eyes shut with a loud mewl when his other hand toyed with nipple
neglected by his mouth, alternating his attentions between the two. "I can't
do- do anything when you're so- O-oh!"
He released the pert bud with a lewd pop. "I don't think I can." He said, aware
that he should be going a bit easier on a virgin, but at the same time too
consumed by raw need to envelop himself in the boy below him, in his warmth,
his fire, his sweet taste, his life. He was already gorging and still he wanted
more, with no foreseeable end to his hunger. "Don't worry about it. Ya
pozabochus' o tebe." He rumbled, nibbling on his collarbone. He was
surprisingly content to just touch the boy, even though he would normally be
infuriated with such a clumsy bedmate.
Yuuichirou whimpered, and he realized the sound of his native language thrilled
the boy. "Wh-What?" 
"You don't have to do anything." He clarified, grasping his smaller member for
the first time. The skin was silky and pulsated with an almost scorching heat.
He lightly squeezed the twitching shaft and gave it a couple firm pumps. "Ya
sobirayus' k poshel na khuy tak trudno, vy ne budete v sostoyanii idli zavtra."
He said the words huskily, right in Yuuichirou's ear to test his reaction. It
was easier to say things this filthy while hiding behind his native language.
The Russian worked. Yuuichirou wailed and his entire body, flushed and coiled
up tightly like a spring, jerked, hot trails of semen squirting from his cock.
Almost disbelieving, Mikaela held up his palm, seeing the thick white streaks
for himself.
He... came? Already? With just some foreplay and a couple strokes?
Were all humans this quick? Even considering his virginity, that was fast.
"Are you- are you alright?" He asked, mildly concerned. The boy's cheeks were
bright and rosy, his narrow chest rising and falling with his heaving breath.
With his glazed, satisfied look in his eye, he was obviously still on his high
from orgasm.
"I... Y-yeah." Yuuichirou panted, averting his eyes with humiliation, obviously
embarrassed for finishing so quickly. "Sorry."
"Can you keep going?"
"Yeah, keep going." He said, burying his hands into the hairs at the nape of
Mika's neck. Their favorite place.
First things first. He held the mess on his palms up to his lips and licked.
Semen, like anything else that wasn't blood, tasted unappealing to a vampire.
But still, it was worth it to see the dumbstruck, slack-jawed look on
Yuuichirou's blushing face.
"Y-You don't have to do that." He squeaked while the vampire finished cleaning
his hand. Mikaela didn't respond, opting instead to bent down and kiss him,
slipping his tongue inside and letting the boy taste himself, swirling the
creamy liquid between their tongues until he swallowed. The boy gurgled out an
unhappy whine at the terrible flavor. "It's bitter." He said when they
separated, wrinkling his nose.
It was clear to Mikaela that they might have to speed things along if he wanted
Yuuichirou to last until the end. "Wait here." He murmured, using his advanced
speed to blur into nothingness. He didn't have lube, never needed it
considering he'd been under the impression that he didn't desire sex anymore,
but in his bathroom there was an assortment of frivolous creams and lotions he
never used. He rifled through the drawers and medicine cabinet for a suitable
material, spurred on by the truly painful tightness in his slacks. 
In the back of his mind, with the few vestiges of humor that still remained
after all these decades, Mikaela was amused to note that he was acting like a
fledgling again, clumsily fumbling around for anything that resembled lube.
He found some kind of oil-based moisturizer and knew from that description
alone that it would be gentle enough to use. The vampire knew using his speed
to hurry back to the bed would make him look pathetically desperate, but the
heat from Yuuichirou's human body was beginning to sap away from his
passionless skin into the chill underground air. The loss of warmth served to
remind him that there were better things to do right now.
The boy was sitting up dazedly and squeaked like a startled mouse when he
reappeared beside the bed. "What did you leave for?" He asked, letting Mikaela
push him back into his back again.
The vampire set the bottle on the side of the bed and clambered on the
mattress. "Getting something we'll need." He said, gripping Yuuichirou's plush
thighs and spreading them open. He choked at the position lewdly baring
everything to Mikaela and hid his rapidly reddening face.
"Why so shy?" The blonde murmured, settling himself between the boy's spread
legs. "I've seen all of you already."
"Th-This is different." Yuuichirou insisted, his voice muffled by the arms
hiding his face. He agreed; the way he looks at his body now is vastly
different compared to the disinterest and mild disdain he held previously.
Speaking of which, the boy's body was a mouth-wateringly erotic sight. His neck
and collar sported little red spots and marks and his pert nipples were no
better, swollen and turned a deep shade of rose from all the attention and
teasing Mikaela lavished on them; his cock was flushed and already half-hard
again, begging for more attention.
The picture reminded him of his own hardness, cramped painfully in the confines
of his white slacks. Slowly, Mikaela's hand undid the clasp at his waistband,
enjoying the feel of Yuuichirou's gaze fixated on his every movement. He sighed
gratefully when his cock slid out from the vice-like tightness, giving it a
couple pumps for relief while the younger male watched him with wide-eyed
arousal.
As if breaking from a trance, Yuuichirou finally took his eyes off his dick and
noticed that the blonde could see he was staring. "I-It's..." He squeaked,
hiding his burning face with his hands again.
Perhaps he was a little intimidating. Compared to his relatively small prick,
Mikaela's hardness was longer and much thicker. "I'm a little big," He said,
"but it'll fit."
"F-Fit?"
Did he not know even this much? Mikaela's finger slipped between the boy's
cheeks, softly rubbing his hole. "Here." He clarified, enjoying the way it
twitched around the tip, as if to suck him in.
"And it's supposed to-?!" His voice went up an octave and then cracked.
"Yes." And then a beat later he added, "It won't hurt."
The boy looked doubtful, giving his cock a nervous look. Mikaela leaned down
and kissed his ear. "Turn around. It'll make things easier."
As with everything else in life, Yuuichirou's courage overpowered his fear. He
clambered onto his hands and knees, watching the blond over his shoulder with a
slightly anxious look. He ignored it and decided he would just show the boy
himself. He palmed the soft flesh of his ass and kneaded it, rolling the globes
around and periodically parting the cheeks to get a brief look at Yuuichirou's
entrance. His silky thighs trembled, with anxiety or anticipation, Mikaela
couldn't tell. One of his hands took hold of a firm cheek and held it open
while he coated his index finger with the lotion and ran it along the seam.
The smaller male gasped and arched his back appealingly, instinctively pushing
his rear into the touch of Mikaela's finger. "I- I remember this..." He
quivered, finally beginning to relax with his nerves pleasurably stimulated. He
must have been referring to the time he gave him a bath.
Mikaela circled his digit around the boy's twitching hole, occasionally pushing
the tip inside with a teasing little dip. "It's going to get better." He said
before pushing in all the way, the lubricated index easily slipping inside,
down to the knuckle. The searing heat inside of Yuuichirou scorched his skin,
like he was dipping his finger into a tunnel of fire. The vampire shuddered and
his cock jumped in anticipation at the thought of this tight heat squeezing
him.
"It feels- It feels weird..." The boy shivered around his long finger,
encouraged enough by the lack of pain to give an experimental and enticing
little wriggle with his rear.
He nibbled on the sensitive skin at the top of his thighs, right at the crease
where the soft mound of his ass rose. Mikaela began to pump his finger,
stroking Yuuichirou's walls with slow but deep movements, letting him grow
accustomed to the feel of his rear getting thrusted into. He responded
positively with quiet moans, his hips rolling onto his finger in response.
Mikaela took that as a sign that he was ready for another finger, pushing the
second one into his tight, hot walls.
The dark haired boy whined, an erotic mixture of wanton arousal and confused
discomfort, the canting of his rear stuttering as he tried to grow accustomed
to the painless, but uncomfortable feel of being stretched. He kept his pace
sedate and patient, relishing the heat of his lithe body even as his dick
strained for more. He made a scissoring motion inside, his fingers prying open
the tender flesh; he would stroke Yuuichirou to distract him from the strange
feeling, but the kid was already a quick shot without stimulation.
The third finger was the tightest addition and the slender body wrapped around
his digits quivered, plush thighs trembling. Mikaela pumped them firmly, adding
a twisting motion with his wrist to ease all the fingers even deeper inside.
Yuuchirou rocked his body in time with the plunge of his hand, make soft sounds
of pleasure, like the coo of a small animal. He curled his long fingers,
pressing them against his walls and thrusting into them, drawing loud moans
that stuttered and choked, as if Yuuichirou himself was surprised his sudden
noisiness.
Yuuichirou was thrusting himself onto his hand, instinctively seeking out more
pressure onto that spot deep inside. "You're ready." He said, retracting his
fingers and watching his hole twitch and spasm around the sudden emptiness,
like it was trying to suck his fingers back in.
"F-For your...?" The boy panted, voice throaty with arousal.
Mikaela reached for the lotion and stroked a generous coating onto his cock,
quietly groaning at the relief of his long-neglected need. "Yes." He said,
spreading Yuuichirou's round cheeks and pressed the head into his trembling
hole, rolling his head back and biting back an excited sound at the sheer heat
radiating from the rim alone, kissing his head as if to beckon Mikaela inside.
"I'm going in." He murmured, low and husky. He slowly pushed his hips forward,
watching Yuuichirou cry out as his cock was swallowed by his greedy hole. The
sheer tightness made it feel like his walls were trying to suction him inside,
and the heat- it was like sticking himself into something molten and burning.
It felt so good to feel this warm.
He hissed at the borderline painful grip on his cock. "Blyad'." He swore and
watched Yuuichirou's narrow back shiver and his nails claw at the bed; he was
halfway in now, and it was only getting tighter. Despite the vice-like
chokehold wrapped around him, the boy below wasn't complaining about pain.
"Does it hurt?" Mikaela asked, not trusting him to be smart enough to say
something.
"N-No- oh!" Yuuichirou panted, little black strands of hair sticking to the
sweat on the back of his neck; he could feel from the ticklish sensation of
blonde hair sticking to his nape that he was in no better shape. The vampire
bent down and lapped at the sensitive skin, drawing a soft mewling sound from
the dark haired boy.
He snapped his hips forward, burying himself down to the hilt, the soft cheeks
of Yuuichirou's bottom meeting his hips. The boy's voice went up an octave into
a high-pitched whine, his small frame trembling around the thick member buried
deep inside of him. Mikaela groaned, deep and throaty at the hot, feverish
sensation and the snug clench squeezing around him on all sides. He felt like
he was going to melt. Could he even thrust like this?
He pulled back and dipped deep inside; his thrusts were shallow and
experimental, letting Yuuichirou adjust to the feel of a thick cock moving
inside of him and himself to the merciless grip of his tight, virginal walls.
"How is it?" His voice was deep and ragged, the syllables vibrating against one
another in a low rumble.
Yuuichirou had to lift his head from where it was buried in his arms. "I'm s-
still fine." He sounded thick with need and arousal and his words quivered with
strain. "M-More."
Well, since he insisted. Mikaela drew his hips back and thrusted back inside,
firm and with the first taste of the power hidden behind his last frayed layer
of restraint. Below him, Yuuichirou cried out and arched his back, sticking his
rear higher into the air, more invitingly. He took that invitation, steadily
working up to a consistent pace, each stroke of his cock rubbing insistently
against the sensitive nerves of his hot, velvety walls. Both the lotion he'd
used to make his hole slick and the boy himself made lewd sounds, a squelch and
a needy keen, every time his hips rolled forwards.
“M-Mika-“ Yuuichirou suddenly spoke, his voice broken up, “please stop…”
At first, the words didn't register, like the distant buzz of background
conversation. When he finally realized that the boy was begging him to stop, it
was like he'd been slapped. Mikaela immediately stopped thrusting as if
Yuuichirou had shouted at him, rather than softly plead. “What’s wrong?” He
asked, pulling out despite every wanton instinct demanding that he burrow back
inside and taste his heat again.
But the boy beneath him was shaking. “I-I don’t like this…” He murmured, and
Mikaela felt like he'd been stomped in the chest cavity.
He didn't know what he should say. Apologize for ruining this? Thank him for
stopping something that shouldn't even exist to be ruined? "I-"

“C-Can I face you?” He asked timidly, cutting into whatever Mikaela was going
to say. Truthfully, even he didn't know. “I wanna-... I- I wanna face you.”
A change in position? He leaned away from where his body was blanketing
Yuuichirou, letting the boy turn himself onto his back and hook his legs around
Mikaela's waist. "Thanks. You can k-keep going." Yuuichirou said, shyly unable
to meet his eyes and blushing down to his collar. On his back and spread out
like this, Mikaela's eyes could drink in everything. The flushed redness of his
aroused body, the grip his small fists had in the pillow cradling his head, the
lustful glaze over his brilliant green eyes, and the small, weeping excitement
between his legs, standing high against his belly.
It made him jump like his dick was searching for him. "Alright." He said,
pushing himself back inside. This time, in this new position, Mikaela could
watch Yuuichirou's face twist in pleasure, his jaw dropping and his eyes
rolling back.
"Ah... oh." His sensual moans of need punctuated every push of his cock into
the hot depths of his tight hole. The erotic sounds of their joining filled the
silence of their bedroom, Yuuichirou's needy noises and Mikaela's throaty,
husky groans. The boy's slender back arched and his hips began to rock to meet
his thrusts; he leaned down and covered his small body with his own, feeling
himself melt into the warmth of his human physique when their bodies pressed
together.
He picked up his tempo, going from a steady and relaxed pace to something
harder, faster, his length plunging deep inside and drawing loud cries from
swollen, pink lips. Lithe arms wrapped themselves around his neck, pulling him
in close, and coltish, soft legs raised behind his back, crossing at the ankle.
He took advantage of the insistent closeness to suck on Yuuichirou's round ears
again, remember how sensitive they were. The boy responded with a wild buck of
his hips and something that sounded close to a sob, his entire slim frame
writhing around every pound of his cock inside.
"Blyad', vy chuvstvuyete sebya khorosho." He groaned, letting his voice drop
into something low and throaty. The boy keened and his rear bucked wildly
against his member, spurred on by the sound of his native tongue rumbling in
his ear. "I see you like that." He murmured quietly, the boy too lost in the
waves of pleasure wracking through his body.
"M-Mika!" He moaned, thighs tightening their silky grip around his waist and
spurring Mikaela on to push him even harder, every snap of his hips pounding
his small body into the mattress and rocking the entire bedframe. He bent his
head down low and captured Yuuichirou's already abused lips,  stealing away the
boy's breath and consuming him like a starving wolf. He couldn't get enough;
kissing Yuuichirou was like getting a mouthful of life itself, diving into a
hot cavern that scorched like the sun. That's exactly what he was- a sun.
He forcefully pried himself away from the boy below him to sit back on his
haunches. He wanted to drive him to the brink and beyond. Mikaela gently pried
away the unyielding grip his supple thighs had on him and pushed them forward,
lifting Yuuichirou's ass into the air and hooking his legs over Mikaela's broad
shoulders. "E-Eh...?" The boy said dazedly, face sweaty and hair mussed up,
face flushed with arousal. He answered by drawing his hips back
and slamming them back inside; Yuuichirou threw his head back and wailed. The
change in angle found his prostate, the little sweet spot deep inside that was
going to drive him wild.
Mikaela was merciless, pounding into his sensitive bundle of nerves with an
unrelenting fervor, even as the boy began to sob and twist his body, head
thrashing from side to side and back arching so far it was a wonder he didn't
snap his spine. Over, and over, his cock plunged deep inside, relishing the
hot, velvety walls convulsing around him. The slapping of their skin punctuated
every hard thrust and Yuuichirou's weeping cock bounced with the rest of his
body, leaking white beads of precum. The already snug grip around his hardness
tightened even further, borderline painfully, and he knew the boy was close.
Yuuichirou couldn't keep up with his pace and was left to simply cling to him.
""Sperma dlya menya." Mikaela groaned, tweaking one of his rosy nipples with
his thumb and forefinger. "Let go and come."
The smaller male whimpered. "S-Stop that!" His member began twitching
erratically. Mikaela knew it was his Russian that he was referring too; nothing
short of pounding into his prostate has charged him up so much.
"Come." He repeated, leaning down to kiss him again, folding the boy in half
because of the pair of legs hooked over his shoulders. His hardness was trapped
against the blonde's abdomen, each thrust dragging it across his shirt and
creating friction to stroke along the length.
"Mm-!"  Yuuichirou shuddered into his lips, tossing his head to the side and
wailing his release into the air, hips bucking wildly as he rode out his second
orgasm. He could feel streaks of something hot and wet along his belly through
his shirt, trails of come trapped between their bodies. Yuuichirou's entrance
clenched around Mikaela's cock as if to suck it in and never let it go, the
tight squeeze just short of painful.
"Blyad'!" He swore again, baring his fangs into a snarl. His shirt clung to
him, the back sticky with sweat and getting in the way when Yuuichirou's little
human paws began to claw at his back. The nails would feel amazing without his
shirt on, but he couldn't bring himself to care beyond the red-hazed frenzy
clouding his vision. His hardness began to throb and pulsate, a white-hot coil
tightening in his belly. Yuuichirou began to rock his hips, his sedate and
tired pace nowhere near matching the hard, erratic tempo Mikaela was slamming
into him with. He clenched the muscles of his walls periodically to squeeze
around his cock and coax his release.
He locked their lips again, shoving his tongue deep inside Yuuichirou's mouth
and easily overpowering him, dominating every corner of his moist, boiling
cavern. He wished he hadn't been too impatient to strip all of his clothes off;
the human felt warm like a soft winter's blanket, but there was a barrier
between him and that silky, heated skin. The thought made him growl into their
joined lips and the coil in his belly snap. He pushed as deep inside as he
could possibly go, so deep his balls pushed insistently into the warmth of his
human body as his orgasm rocked through his body. Mikaela didn't stop
thrusting, slowing down into a lazy and sedate pace as he rode out his release,
his cock pumping thick streams of his seed inside of Yuuichirou, his hole
drinking it all up like it was starving.
That was much shorter than how long he used to last. It had been a long time...
They lay on their bed like that for a blessed moment of total silence. Not even
the buzz of a thought broke the quiet peace, just the lazy contentment of two
bedmates enjoying their afterglow. Mikaela allowed himself to drift off into
that mindless haze, closing his eyes for just a moment and feeling nothing but
the warm wrapped around his body and the small fingers toying with the small
blonde hairs at his nape. There was no vampire city, no war, no complex
political dance going above his head, and no consequences for what he'd just
done. Or rather, who.
The blonde tiredly unstuck himself from Yuuichirou, the boy's come spread
evenly between them, but sticking out horribly against his black button-up. He
slowly pulled his flaccid member out, watching the come he stuffed him with
leak from his hole. The smaller male shivered as the white liquid began to ooze
onto the sheets, trickling out of his body like a silky stream. 
Mikaela turned his legs over the side of the bed, feet touching down on the
wooden floors that felt frigid after an unknown amount of time rolling around
in the sack with Yuuichirou. He felt a wave of weariness bog down his limbs the
more he thought about what he did. A part of him felt sick and another part was
too tired of all of this to care much more. He'd already lost what little
respect he managed to strangle out of his peers after all these decades of
tearing down anyone that stood in his way, and now he was a running a joke they
could snicker at when they thought he couldn't hear. Considering he scared off
the only pair that patrolled the halls this deep in the castle, he doubt anyone
had heard but...
That wasn't taking advantage of a prisoner. That wasn't even fucking a pet.
Either of those could be excused, but he treated Yuuichirou like
a partner, making sure he wasn't in pain, listening to his complaints, and
paying attention to his anxiety. What he and Yuuichirou just shared was
intimacy, and the thought made him sick with an ugly mixture of emotions too
muddled to make out that he was too tired to pick apart right now.
But it was clear that he shouldn't have done this. This night was just another
nail in the coffin with unknown contents that he never wished to learn-
Fingers, small and warm, wrapped around his wrist. "Aren' you gonna stay?"
Yuuichirou asked drowsily. He looked back to see the boy sprawled out on his
back, eyes sleepy and satisfied.
"It wouldn't be a good idea, you know." He said half-heartedly, the words a
pathetic wisp of an excuse, even to his ears.
Yuuichirou agreed, judging by his sleepy snort. "An' this was...? Stay. Please,
Mika."
It had been a while since he slept, and he couldn't get his mind off the heat
radiating from the human's fingers and kissing his wrist through the black
fabric of his soiled shirt. "Why?" He asked, instead of giving an answer.
The dark haired boy gave a jaw-cracking yawn. "'Cause I wan' you here." He said
sleepily. "Please?"
He looked small on that giant bed, vulnerable with his tired nakedness, and
enticing with his mussed hair, swollen lips, and ruined belly. He shook his
head. "Why would you want me here?" Why, why, why. For the life of him, he
could never understand what this boy was thinking.
"Please?" He asked again, tugging on his sleeve, but weak with exhaustion. This
was his first time, something Mikaela knew but never truly dwelled on. Now the
ramifications hit him like a kick to the stomach. "Mika?"
He pinched the bridge of his nose. One night in bed together wouldn't make this
horrible situation any worse. Running away would just make the boy more
persistent the next time he saw him. He would do as he asked tonight, listen to
whatever inane thing he wanted to say in the morning, and then explain that it
would be best if they both forgot that this ever happened.
Or pretended to.

He stood up, shushing Yuuichirou's disappointed noises. "One moment." He said
quietly, peeling off the button-up that stuck to his body with a quiet sigh of
relief. He used the ruined shirt to clean up their stomachs and wipe off the
stain of seed on the sheets. He could just wear his coat tomorrow and get a
fresh change from a supply closet. He flung the black fabric away and pulled
his white slacks the rest of the way down, now just as bare is Yuuichirou.
The boy was staring at him, wide-eyed and slack-jawed. "What is it?" He asked,
mildly uncomfortable underneath the weight of his stare. For a very unsettling
minute, he didn't respond to him, just gaping at him all of his mental
faculties shut down at once. Mikaela sighed exasperatedly and chalked it off to
another quirk he didn't understand before climbing onto the bed on the opposite
end.
He turned onto his side and closed his eyes, willing himself to relax and sleep
for the first time in over a month. It was difficult to calm his buzzing
thoughts after so many consecutive days and nights of consistent brain
activity. He almost startled when he felt a pair of arms circle around his
chest and warm body press itself against his back.
His mouth went dry. "What are you doing?" He asked, turning around to his other
side. Yuuichirou tucked his head under his chin, the soft black strands of hair
tickling him.
"Shut up n' sleep." He grumbled waspishly, confrontational even when trying to
cuddle with him. He raised an eyebrow, even though the boy couldn't see it.
"Charming." He muttered, allowing Yuuichirou to continue to cling to him. If he
was going to wake up this morning and firmly put an end to this highly
inappropriate behavior, he might as well indulge himself this final night.
Yuuichirou made a soft sound of surprise when he circled his arms around his
narrow back, holding him close.

It was warm. He could pretend not to miss that too.
Chapter End Notes
     Okay so someone explain why I blushed more at the end cuddling than I
     did while writing the filth?
     --
     so I asked a group of my friends whether they thought the Russian
     should be written in English phonetics or Russian characters, and the
     english phonetics won out. Google translate doesn't recognize Russian
     in english phonetics, however, so here are the translations.
     "Ostavit' ili ya budu rvat' kishki i kormit' ikh k vam!" / "Оставить
     или я ваши кишки и кормить их к вам!" = "Leave or I'll rip out your
     guts and feed them to you!" Google translate doesn't translate this
     100% accurately, but you can still listen to the Russian with the
     audio option and imagine Mika saying it all scary-like.
     "Ya pozabochus' o tebe." / "я позабочусь о тебе" = "I'll take care of
     you."
     "Ya sobirayus' k poshel na khuy tak trudno, vy ne budete v sostoyanii
     idti zavtra" / "Я собираюсь ебать тебя так трудно, вы не сможете
     ходить завтра" = "I'm going to fuck you so hard you won't be able to
     walk tomorrow."
     "Blyad'." / "Блядь." = "Fuck."
     "Blyad', vy chuvstvuyete sebya khorosho." / "Блядь, вы чувствуете
     себя хорошо" = "Fuck/Damn, you feel good."
     "Sperma dlya menya." / "Сперма для меня." = "Come for me."
     As always, thank you for taking the time to read and comment and
     such! Comments especially give me life and, really, sometimes you
     guys make damn good suggestions or analyze a character in a way that
     helps me see them in a new light, so thank for you taking the time to
     talk to me!
     ((ALSO THE BYOOTIFUL ART IS BY reddverse on tumblr. LOOK AT THIS
     SHIT!! JUST-! LOOK AT IT OH MY GOD!!! she's so talented isn't she?!?!
     I love her painting style oh my fucking god opo so soft and pretty~~
     go check out her tumblr when you get a hot minute! Lots of good stuff
     to see!))
***** Daffodil *****
Chapter Summary
     In which Yuu has an offer.
Chapter Notes
     H-Hi guuuuuys... -sweats- Ah... n-nice weather ri-
     -dodges various pointy objects and mushy fruit-
     IM SO SORR Y FOR THE DELAY. WORST OF ALL I DON'T EVEN HAVE AN EXCUSE
     -CRIES- IT'S BECAUSE THIS WAS SUCH AN IMPORTANT CHAPTER THAT I WAS
     HAVING A HARD TIME GETTING IT OUT. WORD CONSTIPATION. BUT THEN THE
     SKY OPENED UP AND TWO BEAUTIFUL ANGELS FROM HEAVEN DESCENDED DOWN,
     CHAMPAGNE RAINING FROM THE WORLD ABOVE-
     //censored by the demands of my Goddesses
     ahksdgljk im just SO EXITED TO CHARE THINS I CAN'T EVEN TYPE GOOD
     WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR GO GO GO GO STOP WASTING YOUR TIME ON ME-
     GOOO!!!!!
     Oh yeah I forgot to explain! In this canon Mika is a little older
     than Yuu! He's, physically, about 19 or 20.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Mikaela crawled away from the darkness of dreamless sleep, slowly encroaching
consciousness beneath his shut eyes. As he gained more awareness, he could feel
a warm weight on his side, the silky feel of soft, naked flesh pressed against
his body, hot like a little furnace. He was aware of a gentle tugging sensation
on his scalp. Something small was carding through his hair. Fingers.
Yuuichirou lie in bed with him; from behind the pretense of continued slumber,
Mikaela could sense he was enjoying toying with the golden curls between his
fingers. He allowed himself to put off the obligations and duties of his waking
unlife with uncharacteristic irresponsibility, and instead enjoy the simple
feeling of a smaller, softer body warming his bed.
Like all happy things, this contented illusion of a simple, pleasant morning
couldn’t last forever. If the human was already up there’s no telling how long
Mikaela had overslept. He opened his eyes, and instantly, Yuuichirou’s small
hand fled from his hair like the blonde locks had bitten his fingertips.
He stared for a while, taking in the situation he awoke to the same way one
would take in a particularly surreal and avant-garde painting. His unwavering
gaze was making the boy uncomfortable. “Ah… M-Morning?” he looked guilty, like
Mikaela had caught him in the act of a crime.
“How long have you been up?” he said, brushing off the odd touch that woke him
up. Soon it wouldn’t matter anyways.
Yuuichirou fidgeted under the blankets, looking like he wanted to say something
but swallowing it down. How uncharacteristic. Usually the little idiot blurted
out whatever he pleased. “Awhile… You were really conked out.”
It was most likely because he’d been awake for so long. His body had
temporarily forgotten how to regulate his sleep. Unlike humans, vampires slept
without a drive of need, so they could do it for absurdly long stretches of
time if they chose. Or if they’d simply forgotten how to control their sleep.
Awkward silence filled the void their lack of meaningless prattle left.
Yuuichirou was rubbing his fingertips together like silken strands of gold were
still in his hand. He was tucked tightly against the blonde’s side, forehead
resting on his shoulder.
Mikaela slid the blankets off his nude form, opting to find his goals for the
day rather than dwell on information made meaningless in its obscurity. There
was no telling how long he’d slept, or how late he was to his own arena, but
things must come in order. He most likely reeked of sex and human. A shower was
due first.
He slipped out of Yuu’s warm cage of arms and legs and stood up, uncaring of
his nakedness. “Don’t forget your promise.” A voice spoke from behind him, firm
and insistent.
“I never promised anything like you’re thinking.” He said, seeing the growing
expression of outrage on the boy’s face. Hm. Just like old times.
“You-!” Yuuichirou sputtered.
Mikaela held out a tired hand. “Hold. I didn’t say I wasn’t going to hear your
piece. You’ve been pestering me for days now and it’s obvious you aren’t going
to let it go. But we should shower first.” He couldn't trust that the human
wouldn't do something drastic- or rather, more drastic than he's already done
in the name of getting his way. That, coupled with the fact that he wasn't sure
what he could do to effectively punish such misbehavior that wouldn't cross the
boundaries set by the queen and his own personal code, meant that he really had
no choice but to humor the child until Krul's plans come to fruition.
The irony of his comparative helplessness to his own damn captive was not lost.
“A-Ah… yeah. About that- the whole getting out of bed part...” He floundered
with his words like a fish yanked from its watery home and tossed onto the
floor. His mouth even flapped open and closed uselessly, like a fish. “My uh-
my back hurts. A lot.”
Blonde brows furrowed as Mikaela inspected the small form of the boy, swathed
in blankets like a cocoon. “Your back?”
He squirmed, red-faced and uncomfortable as if he was laying on a bed of
marbles. “Yeah. Well… o-other places too but- Look, I’m just sore, okay?”
Other… oh. Mikaela thought back to the previous night and conceded that he
hadn’t taken it as slowly as he should have. In particular, his initial
penetration was slightly rushed. Some soreness would've been expected from a
virgin, but Yuuichirou wouldn’t nearly ache so badly if Mikaela hadn’t gone so
hard or if he'd been more patient. Or maybe his size made it unavoidable for
the first time.
"Did last night hurt?" He inquired, circling to the other side of the bed.
"We-well, I mean-" Yuichirou cleared his throat nervously, increasingly demure
as the blonde came closer. "Yeah, a little. At first anyways. It stopped after
a bit, so I figured it was normal."
"It's not." He said. Discomfort was expected, but any amount of pain was
irregular and a sign of rushed preparation or hurried penetration; he had just
been impatient. His stomach clenched and churned itself as if the organ wished
to leap up his throat and out of his mouth. He could acknowledge the
uncomfortable sensation as some confused, unfamiliar concoction of guilt and
disappointment, but instead of wasting his time lingering on impractical
sentiment, he leaned down and scooped Yuuichirou into his arms.The bridal carry
was reminiscent of the time he'd been sick.
The human squeaked when he suddenly found himself in the air, the blankets
sliding away from him and exposing his vulnerable flesh to the cold underground
air. "What's with you-!"
"I said we both needed to wash ourselves. Since you can't walk you'll have to
be carried there." He said, glossing over that this was really just another
symptom of his personality. Last night was his responsibility. He was the one
who erred, so fixing his mistake was reasonable to him.
Yuuichirou, surprisingly, allowed himself to be carried without protest.
Mikaela set him down in the claw tub and turned the faucet somewhere in the
middle. The boy could readjust it himself if the temperature wasn't good enough
for his delicate human skin. Rather than leaving, the blonde leaned against the
wall next to the tub, crossing his arms and waiting the other male to either
speak his mind or finish his turn.
The room was silent save for the quiet groan of the faucet cutting off and the
babble of water gently splashing as he washed himself. The vampire, in his idle
wait, absentmindedly shifted his gaze to random and meaningless places. He
noted the soap’s contents on the tub's ledge were smaller; Yuuichirou must have
been bathing regularly in here.
"Are you happy with the other vampires?"
If he were the type, Mikaela might have jumped at the abrupt sound of the
quietness shattering, the boy finally getting to whatever point he wanted to
make.
Yuuichirou didn't wait for an answer, making the previous question rhetorical,
like he already knew the answer. He would have been offended by such
presumptuousness if he hadn't already learned to expect such appalling audacity
from him. "You always try to act like- like there's nothing left inside of you,
but your actions always contradict the things you say."
This was the big, important conversation he wanted? This was just foolishness.
"'Happiness' is a human concept and irrelevant to a vampire. Don't apply your
human parameters to a nonhuman entity and assume the conclusions will be
valid." He said tartly, the retort delivered with the crisp, artificial
efficiency of a well-studied book.
"There it is again." Yuuichirou sighed, an exasperated gust of air that
condescended Mikaela with its impertinent familiarity. "I tend to notice what
people do more than what they say, so it was all pretty easy to piece together
once I got my head out of my ass. I know your type pretty well, to be honest."
His 'type'?
That stung right around where his pride would be, the audacious impudence a
grievance he would not tolerate. He tore his eyes away from burning angry holes
into the wall to burn larger ones into the small form in the tub. Yuuichirou
met his red glare with openly defiant nonchalance, which only served to fuel
his ire more. "Don't you dare presume that your mind could possibly come to
comprehend the existence of an immortal, or that your flimsy human ideals could
be haphazardly and clumsily applied to an existence far beyond your scope. Your
arrogance is disgusting, human-"
“Call me ‘Yuu’." The impertinent little thing cut him off, far too comfortable
with the fact that Mikaela couldn't truly punish him. "It's about time you
started, considering you didn’t even call me by my name last night.”
It was like talking to a damn brick wall. The fist tucked against his crossed
arms tightened, trim, practical nails digging crescents into his palm.
“As I was saying, human-”
“Yuu."  He insisted, pouting childishly at Mikaela's matching obstinacy.
“Yuuichirou.”
“Well it's my name, so it’s a start, I guess.” He said wryly, folding his arms
over the edge of the tub and resting his chin on them, green eyes peering up
unabashedly at the increasingly irritated vampire. One tiny flash of his fangs
had ninety percent of humanity cowering in fear. It was only the blonde's luck
he was stuck with one of the few that could look him in the eye with brazenness
even when he balanced precariously on the last fiber of his patience, strained
and pulled taut.
Small fingers tapped a tempo of no rhythm against white porcelain. "Anyways,
that battle aside for later, I was saying that I know your kind of personality
well. You remind me a little of Kimizuki, I guess, even if you're way less of
an asshole than he is."
It spoke of his squadmate's character if Yuuichirou could compare Kimizuki to a
vampire that has belittled, humiliated, and abused him for over a month and
still find the vampire favorable. Or perhaps that was intended as a joke, but
he wasn't one for humor.
"But way more than him, you remind me of me."
That was entirely unexpected. He felt his face, stony and inflexibly severe,
crack like brittle talc and expose a muted expression of surprise. A single
eyebrow rose for a fraction of a second, but the self-satisfied gleam in
Yuuichirou's bright green eyes betrayed that he saw Mikaela's slip.
"How so?" He said, forced to take the bait when the boy didn't respond for
several seconds, most likely inwardly gloating like human arrogance was prone
to.
"You're lonely, just like I was. Before I found my new family-"
He snorted. "That's foolish."
"How could it be?" The boy protested. "The only way to make sense of everything
you've done is to recognize that you're a pretty lonely guy. Hell, you admitted
as much that day I was sick."
"I did no such thing." He said, suppressing a scandalized indignation in his
tone. "I was trying to keep you from misinterpreting my actions up until that
point as kindness."
“You told me because you have no one else to tell. You said it, Mika! You said
it! You don’t feel like you belong with the other vampires, and because of that
you have to be everyone's enemy-” Yuuichirou looked tiny sitting in the tub,
fluffy hair limp and sticking to his face from water.
He cut the boy off, glaring angry holes into the opposite wall but keeping his
voice flat and controlled. "But your conclusion requires that I desire
companionship. I don't. I push the other vampires away because I find them
distasteful. I would push the humans away because I find them distasteful."
“Then why did you talk to me that day I was sick? If you’re not lonely, and if
you don’t care if you never talk to anyone again, why did you open up to me?”
“Because it didn’t matter either way. My distant past as a human is worthless
information.” Which was the truth, as far as Mikaela was concerned. When he
reached far back into the uncharitable void of his earliest memories, only the
vague fragments of abstract emotions winked pitifully. The dulled, washed-out
remnants of an ancient painting, clinging to a world that it no longer belonged
to. When he listened for his sister’s voice, he heard the flatline ring of
absolute silence. When he sought her face, he saw the empty plane of a
nothingness only perceived in the unconsciousness of sleep.
Or the peace of death.
“No it isn’t! And I can prove it!” Yuuichirou’s loud, insistent voice pierced
the dark veil that settled over his thoughts, a ray of sunlight through a lone,
dusty window into an old room best left forgotten. “If you really can’t
remember your sister, why does pointlessly hurting humans bother you so much?
Why were you so angry upon first turning that it made you hate vampires just as
much as humans? To the point where, even now, a hundred years later, you still
refuse to fully recognize them as friends?”
What a memory.
Stupid enough to think he could get escape the vampire city with nothing more
than the clothes on his back, but smart enough to remember every last thing
Mikaela’s ever said to him and find the perfect opportunity to use it as a
weapon.
An idiot and a fool too stupid to be read.
But not an idiot and a fool too stupid read others.
“It’s because a part of you still remembers your sister. A part of you still
cares about the memory of your family. Unless you’re tellin’ me you're
irrational enough to pointlessly hate everyone for no reason?”
He felt a sickening clump of something hard and heavy settling into his gut, an
ugly stone painted an unfortunate motley of confused and poorly-executed
emotions. It could have been something like anger, discomfort, fear, or
indignation, but they were all so smattered, smeared, and clumsily blended
together that it was impossible to tell where one began and the other ended.
The worst part about it was the accuracy of his deduction with logic that he'd
never even considered himself. It was true. Whatever emotions were in the
forefront of the human at the time of the change were the emotions that
influenced the personality of the vampire that rose.
Mikaela does not remember what kind of man he was as a human. He doesn't
remember if he was a friendly man, a generous man, or a selfish man. All he
remembers is a raw, roiling rage that scalded just beneath his skin and left
his fingers twitching for violence. That fury, similar to the fury that burned
like fire in Yuuichirou's eyes, changed Mikaela in ways that he will never
know.
Even humans grow senile with age, so maybe it is vampires, despite losing their
memories upon turning, who truly never forget.
It was the one little hole punched into the very fabric of Mikaela that he
didn’t even know was there, and yet was so frighteningly gaping that it could
almost resemble the wide maw of a beast threatening to swallow him whole.
Perhaps it was because Mikaela naturally pushed away things he deemed
unnecessary or frivolous. Like long forgotten and irrelevant memories from a
life long since passed. "And what do you know about me, human? You're just a
damn prisoner." He hissed, the angry rumble in his chest pitifully defensive.
"A lot, actually. Everything you've done and said- it all adds up, if you look
close, and I've been paying attention."
The blonde crouched, bringing his wine red eyes level with Yuuichirou's
unflinching green. They were spring eyes, bright and vibrant. He knew it was
irrational to be so angry. Mikaela should be calm, unruffled, and completely
under control in the face of someone who was so clearly under his power.
Instead, the things the little human said was unsettling him. Unnerving him.
Made him think about things he'd been pushing away for a century. "And what
have I done then, hm? Punish an insubordinate cur? Brought you meaningless
foodstuffs? Fucked you like my little whore?"
The boy flinched just slightly, a wounded mixture of hurt and outrage barely
suppressed by thinned lips and tightened eyes.
Mikaela continued, feeling no satisfaction despite finally inflicting injury
upon him. "Because that was asserting my dominance before upstart filth who
thought he could disobey a captain. That was bringing disgusting sludge to a
pet that had seemed, at the time, to finally learn its place. And that was just
to satisfy base physical urges."
An absolute hush fell onto the room like a sobering blanket, or the gravity of
a gavel. Even Yuuichirou was completely still; not even the smallest warble of
shifting bathwater broke the solemnity. Mikaela had rejected every facet of
these past weeks and thrown them back in Yuuichirou's face, ruthlessly using
every moment as a weapon.
To his shock, the boy plowed on. “If it was just about ‘urges’ you wouldn’t
have stopped yourself the first time." He licked his lips, voice quiet but no
less fierce, small fists clenching against the white material of the tub. "I
saw your face Mika. You were afraid of what you've done. Probably because you
knew you were doing something you thought was wrong."
The blonde swallowed nothing, yet paradoxically felt the painful sensation of
sandpaper against his throat. "I left because I was disgusted with myself for
touching an animal." Weak, weak, weak. It was weak and he was losing-
"Then why did you come back?” Yuuichirou challenged. "If it was just urges you
could've found someone else. Why did you come back to me?"
He almost flinched at how frighteningly on point he was. The boy couldn't have
possibly known that that's exactly what he'd done, so the accuracy of just how
well he'd come to know Mikaela in such a short amount of time was truly
unsettling. “Why didn’t you stop me?” he shot back, conveniently side-stepping
an answer by shifting the focus onto Yuuichirou.
Said boy bit his lip, lowering his eyes for the first time. “Because I’ve
realized something Mika. You don’t belong here. You don’t belong with the other
vampires. You’re better than them. And...” He demurely traced a wet finger
through the little water droplets on the rim of the tub, connecting their
trails into a single streak. He was looking down, but Mikaela could see the
tips of his round ears were red. "Well- Y- I... I think you're p-pretty..."
Another uncomfortable silence stretched, interrupted only by Yuuichirou, in his
nervousness, rubbing his finger against the porcelain rim just a bit harder.
The graceless squeaking only served to further drown the both of them in an
atmospheric lake of ungainly awkwardness.
“...Finish washing yourself.” He said numbly. He had to get away, get away
right now. This was spiraling out of control into a direction that he would
have never anticipated . A direction of mutual attraction with potential
implications that terrified him more than anything else he'd been confronted
with in his past century of unlife.
Behind him, water gushed and splashed, coming together with a wet slap. "No,
wait!" Small feet pitter-pattered on the tile floor, most likely dripping water
everywhere. The boy had leaped out to chase after him. Mikaela wouldn't expect
anything else from someone this remarkably stubborn.
Except Yuuichirou was running on a wet, smooth floor.
He heard it, a sliding noise and then a yelp, the acoustics of it alerting him
which way the boy was falling. Forwards, towards Mikaela. If he didn't catch
him he was going to have an intimate meeting with the floor.
Mikaela stepped to the side at the last second, Yuuichirou careening into the
floor with a hard thump and a groan.
“Wh-Why did youdodge?! You bastard!” He growled, clambering to his feet and
puffing up angrily. Even drawing himself up to his full height, he barely
reached the vampire's chin.
"You should know better than to run on a wet floor. You deserved it." He said
tonelessly. "Finish your bath. I'll take my turn after you finish, and we can
go our separate ways."
"Mika-"
"You've said your piece, and I've heard it through-"
"Mika-!"
"You have nothing else to say to me, so just keep quiet until the Queen is-"
Small hands slid up and threaded themselves into golden locks, just like this
morning. Just like last night, come to think of it. “Run away with me, Mika.”
In the short time Mikaela had allowed contact between them, Yuuichirou was
always touching his hair-
...What?
Yuuichirou was looking up at him expectantly, solemnly. No glitter of humor in
his eye, like when he'd been pestering Mikaela about trite nothings like the
colors he liked. The boy was looking him straight into his inhumanly red eyes,
little hands cradling his cheeks and subtly toying with his hair.
He couldn't find words. They were stuck in his throat, choking his windpipe. In
the back of his mind, somewhat hysterically, he wondered if he'd be dead by now
from the lack of oxygen, if he was human.
"Come with me, back home. You can have a fam-"
"Shut up."
"Mika-" The boy tried to say something, he didn't know what and he didn't care.
He just wanted this manipulative little viper to stop.
Yuuichirou couldn't see anything, but Mikaela saw every second of him slamming
the boy into a wall and crushing him painfully against the hard surface, hands
clutching him unforgivingly tightly. "Shut up, shut up, shut up- just be
silent!" he snarled, fangs bared threateningly. “You just want me to break you
out. You just want freedom. Do not condescend me with your half-baked lies
youfilthy creature!”
[http://i.imgur.com/7GtTqRM.png%20alt=]
Yuuichirou calculated his face into a processed imitation of shock, eyebrows
pinched into something artificially wounded and sad. "I don't! I'm not! I just
want you to be happy!" He cried, as good an actor as any he’d seen.
Rage was threatening to overtake all logical thought, and Mikaela all-too-
happily gave himself over to it. Anything to blot out the things done, the
things said, the things that can't be taken back. "I do not find your jokes or
your thespianism amusing, you lying, manipulative, pathetic little worm!" his
hands were tightening with every angry word, to the point where the human
beneath him was mewling in pain, squirming beneath the iron vice of his grip
like a helpless insect trapped by the wings. "You expect me to believe such
meaningless fluff when you've deceived me in the past? When you fed from my
hand obediently, only to make an escape attempt later? You even faked tears."
The boy went limp all at once, staring at him with artfully widened eyes.“You-
You thought I was faking?"
His answer was dig this thumbs in threateningly. A warning that this human was
coming dangerously close to unleashing all of Mikaela's unrestrained fury onto
him, just one word, one breath, one hair's trigger away. He didn't know what he
would do, didn't trust that Yuuichirou would make it out whole.
"I-I cried that day because curry means a lot to me." The blonde snapped his
teeth warningly. It was enough to make Yuuichirou flinch, but not to make him
stop. Nothing ever was. "It was served by my original family, and then my new
family. We- we would eat it together. It was the first little piece of home
I've had since I was locked away here, you know? It reminded me of my family,
of how much everything hurt without them here, of how badly I needed to get out
of here and see them again. I ate it like you told me to because I didn't want
to ruin that little piece of home." He visibly swallowed, eyes watering, from
the pain or unfamiliar emotion, Mikaela couldn’t tell, and his bottom lip
disappearing between his blunt little teeth. "I cried because it all meant so
much to me, what you did."
"But I didn't do it for you." He said frustratedly, anger rapidly cooling into
something very tired. His hands, once white-knuckled and tightened so
unrelentingly, slowly released their unforgiving, painful cage around
Yuuichirou's upper arms. But it made sense now. Yuuichirou's tears weren't
because he'd broken him.
It was because he'd inadvertently strengthened him.
It was now, in the face of a strength of will so baffling that the blonde could
have never guessed it in another thousand years, that Mikaela wondered who was
truly immortal. The vampire with a body who couldn't die, or the human with a
spirit who refused to kneel.
With his body released, the human was free to do as he pleased. And rather than
do the sensible thing and back away or run from the vampire who had just been
as volatile as a bomb, exploding into violence and rage with little preemptive,
Yuuchirou decided it was a better idea to close the small gap between them.
Fragile arms, thin from captivity and weak as a twig but still paradoxically
powerful enough to hold him in place, wrapped around him. A smaller, warmer
body pressed against his own and Yuuichirou tucked his face into Mikaela's
collar.
“Mika… I just… we- what we did last night- I wouldn't have done that if you
didn't mea-”
"No." he said quietly, the sound coming out as a weak choke. "No." He didn't
want to hear anything else. He wanted to get away from this right now, and damn
if he reeked of sex and human. Damn if anyone knew that he fucked a prisoner.
Damn him, damn Yuuichirou, damn everyone, damn everything in this mad world
that had decided to let go of all logic Mikaela had somehow found himself in.
He peeled the boy's arms from his person and pushed him away, using his speed
to vanish from his slow human eyes.
The next few minutes were a vague blur of motion and color in his memory as he
hurriedly dressed himself in his scattered clothing. He might have heard
Yuuichirou screaming after him, but he'd blocked out all sound. He might have
felt the boy fight to hold onto him in a bid to make him stay, but he'd blocked
out all touch. He might have seen himself throw the clinging boy away, but he'd
blocked out all sight.
All he allowed was the white static of a tranquil mind, the meaningless buzz
and hum of a filter that kept everything in a peaceful, manageable, logical
order.
There were hand-shaped bruises on his upper arms. Angry, blotchy, and ugly.
He blocked that out as well.
----
It was the day Mika opened up, the day he first bared the cavity in his chest
and revealed he has something left that resembled a heart and a soul, that
everything began to fall into place. It helped that there was plenty of time
for thought when one was locked away in a gilded cell.
Mika was startlingly human. Shockingly human. It was impossible to see at
first, through the threats, the cold, disdainful gazes with half-lidded and
unforgivably dismissive eyes. It was the little things, over a period of time
Yuu couldn’t identify, that added it all up. It was the day when Mika
mistakenly wrote off the information as trivial and spoke of what little he
remembered of his past, that Yuu finally saw the scattered equation and
realized there was a solution. Mika, with his chill, flinty armor and callous
personality reminded him that his shell is just exactly that. Armor. A shell.
You only wear armor if you need protection.
You only need protection if there's something vulnerable underneath.
He doesn’t know the details of Mika’s life or his past, but he thinks he can
see the worn, weathered edges of the pieces and surmise what damaged them, can
understand the cause. He could see the charred, smoke edges of one piece and
see the anger; he could see the frayed, whittled edges of another and see the
exhaustion.
Mika reminds Yuu of himself, in some ways. Closed off from the world, unable
and unwilling to let anyone in. The roots were different: one, a fear of losing
more friends and family, another, a defensive retreat from a world that seemed
determined to point its swords at you at every turn, but the fruits are the
same. A person who is harsh, closed off, and strapping on armor to hide where
it hurts.
Yuu was attracted to Mika, and it wasn't just because of the blonde's
admittedly good looks. It was because he recognized something deeply relatable
inside of him. Something that connected the both of them as kin in a bond far
deeper than he'd given credit, until the first time their lips touched and the
man set his body on fire. Until the man had become the object of unexpected and
unprecedented sexual desire.
Mika, alone and suffering from that terrible empty void of a directionless
life, needs a family, just like Yuu did. He can give him one. He just can’t
give up. He’ll refuse to, stubbornly knitting his roots into the cold shale of
Mika’s life, unyielding to the inhospitable environment until the man eroded
and caved in to Yuu’s offer.
As he picked himself up from the floor, a little bruised and a little winded,
but no worse for the wear, because Mika is surprisingly mindful of his strength
even when he's trying not to be, he decides he won’t rest until he sees Mika’s
smile, surrounded by people he can call his new family.
 
Chapter End Notes
     ashflkjdlhkr;t THE WONDERFUL AND TALENTED Hihazuki and Maqui WANTED
     TO DO ARTS FOR ME OMFG. I got the chapter out as fast as I could and
     they got their art done as soon as they coujld an-
     WEREN'T THEY AMAZING?!?!! WHAT THE HELL DID I DO TO DESERVE THIS KIND
     OF TALENT WTF. Guys go follow their tumblrs right now!!! MAqui is
     under maqui-chan.tumblr and Hihazuki is under hi-hazuki.tumblr GO
     GIVE THEM UR LOVE THEY ARE ABSOLUTE GODDESSES.
     Also Mika stop being a fuckwad, you bitchy old geezer.
***** Cyclamen *****
Chapter Summary
     It's hard to stand firm,
     when you're on the run.
     Been tryin’ to heal,
     but don’t know where this blood is comin’ from.
     (...I apologize)
Chapter Notes
     ...
     Ehem.
     Well apparently there were rumors that I dropped off the face of the
     earth because of personal issues in my life. That's actually right,
     to be honest. Right after exams, back in may, I had to pay for my
     summer tuition. It was nearly twice as much as I'd estimated it'd be
     and my bank accounted ended up with a mere twenty dollars. So I ended
     up getting three jobs on top of my online classes, working upwards of
     sixty hours a week.
     But hey I got the money 8D. I quit one of those jobs a few days ago,
     so I'm completely free three days of the week now.
     But it just depresses me. I was gone for so long, feels like I got
     left behind. I hope the fandom is still, I dunno, alive I guess.
     Whelp, here's the chapter.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
No one saw him.
Lately there were few patrols this deep in the castle. After the incident with
Auriel revealed their human captive to the general population, Krul had taken
it upon herself to mostly clear the innermost halls of other vampires, in order
to keep others from the temptation Yuuichirou presented. What few that were
still stationed were lazy and realized that the likelihood of a dangerous
intruder invading this deep into the vampire lair, into the very heart of the
nest of nobles, was about as likely as the child livestock staging a successful
uprising. And Mikaela might have scared off the only two lurking in this area.
So presumably, no one saw him.
However, the stench of sex and human was always comparable to bees and honey,
when it came to vampires. The delectable scent of the fresh meat of gossip and
juicy scandal whetted their appetites almost as potently as blood. It was
something noteworthy, something conspicuous. If anyone caught so much as a
whiff, if the musky, heady aroma of intercourse so much as teased a single pair
of nostrils, he had no doubt the entire castle would know. And vampires had
quite the powerful senses.
But none of that mattered right now. His mind was like a dilapidated record,
skipping on the same tired tune again, and again, and again.
‘Run away with me!’
‘I just want you to be happy!’
‘You’re a lonely guy!’
“Shut up you-” He hissed at the phantom of Yuuichirou’s voice, pounding
instantly into his eardrums as if the child were truly beside him, screeching
with uncontrolled volume, as he is prone to. He was angry- truly, completely,
wholly, sincerely angry . He wanted to tear Auriel open with his bare hands;
 he wanted to find Bathory and introduce his blade to the bastard’s smug face;
he wanted to march back to the boy’s room and pick him up by his delicate
little throat and throw him as far away as possible. He wanted to scream.
He didn’t want this. He never asked for this. He never wanted some human brat
to make up fantasies of his supposed kindness and then thrust them upon him
with wide-eyed expectancy. He never asked to be stripped down and incised open,
for said little brat to play and prod with whatever black, gaping cavities he
had left inside, with throbbing, sore edges swelled with pain and bled with
blood he never knew he had.
Day in and day out, Mikaela’s life had been set in an immovable tower of stone,
stubborn and implacable. He, with every fiber of his existence, was somewhat
self-aware enough to realize it was a paltry state of being. But Yuuichirou,
like a babbling river -with no small amount of emphasis on the babbling-
stubbornly wore away at his hard, blunt walls, gleefully seeking out even the
smallest of cracks and prodding at them until the rock simply crumbled apart-
Mikaela didn’t feel broken- he didn’t. The very suggestion was insulting.
But the thought that he could be so completely manipulated by a creature that
should be no more significant to him than an insect, was more humiliating than
anything he’d ever experienced in his life. All of the embarrassment, all of
the uncertainty, all of the constant self-doubt and self-questioning, over a
manipulative little viper that only knew how to lie.
Sleep was not possible, not with the roiling anger bubbling beneath his skin,
his own blood feeling alien with its uncharacteristic heat, but time moved
forward regardless of his preparation for the morrow. He never noticed time’s
passage until now, outside measures in units of orders given, orders completed,
appointment time, and patrol rounds.
Mikaela had anticipated sleep to be impossible and confirmed it to be true by
his restless turning on the mattress and the insistent buzzing in his mind,
prodding his eyelids open every other minute to glare frustratedly at the
ceiling as if it were the obnoxious, bratty cause of his sleeplessness.
He emerged from his night of unrest with the intent to fortify himself. He
could only picture more agonizing weeks of avoiding the jumbling clutter
knocking around the inside of his mind, echoes and after-images and ghosts of
words that should never have been said and things that should never have been
done and the pathetic, humiliating position he should never have allowed a
livestockto manipulate him into.
To say nothing of the frothing, bubbling, boiling fury set a constant blaze and
threatening to consume the veritable husk of dying tinder known as his rational
thought that, yes, Krul still needed the poisonous creature alive.
But he didn’t have to wait long at all. The knock on his door and the letter
delivered into his hand by the visibly-inquisitive vampire rocked his center
like a ship on wrathful waters; Krul had finally summoned him, the message
arriving just as he was about to leave to find whatever miscellaneous duty he
could fulfill to escape the parts of him that ached alarmingly at any thought
of yesterday.
“It’s time.” she said. It was the first thing she said to him, the minute the
magnificently carved double doors of the throne room closed behind him, her
face impassive and mirroring his own.
“Time.” he said stonily, the frigid blood inside pounding furiously against the
walls of his veins like thousands of fists desperate to escape a locked cage.
He knew full well what she could be alluding to, but he wanted to hear it
himself. The painful and confusing ache in his chest demanded nothing less.
Her eyes bored into his person with a scrutiny that attempted to pick him apart
at the seams and examine every little change that Mikaela wanted to deny ever
taking place within him, yet he could certainly feel, despite the frustrating
inability to coherently identify it. All he could say, with certainty, was that
it was some form of a weakness that he wished with every ounce of his existence
could be wiped away. “Yes. The preparations are complete.” she said, after a
long moment of trying to dissect a person that had already been prodded and
picked apart into an identifiable mush by someone else. “He’s naked right now,
right? Find something for him to wear, anything, and wait for the transport
team. I’ve arranged for their arrival to fall within forty minutes, so I
wouldn’t dally.”
The ensuing silence was expectant and absolute, Krul examining her nails with a
practiced air of disinterest. It was an unconvincing performance from an
actress that was making little effort. She couldn’t possibly expect him to
believe in her nonchalance when her eyes were just boring into him like swords
mere moments ago.
She was making little sense.
Nothing did, these days.
Heat roiled deep inside his very core, the bubbling liquid clamped down only by
the clench of the fist at his side. “And?” he bit out flatly, unable to prevent
a hardness to his tone, despite its general lack of inflection.
“Hm?” she hummed daintily, curling a strand of glossy pink hair around a little
finger. She was toying with him.
Everyonewas toying with him.
The dam burst, hot tidewater floods of anger drowning out everything but the
infuriating knowledge that his control over himself, over his life, had been
wrenched away from him. Despite his every attempt to claw for it back, even if
it was a tattered and shambled mockery of its former strength, Mikaela’s
proudly limitless composure had slipped away and dissolved in the waters. “You
owe me an explanation.”he snarled, sharp fangs glinting in the candlelight.
The room dropped several temperatures, despite that her face didn’t so much as
twitch.
“Consider who you bare your fangs to, whelp.” the queen said, a frigid and firm
point beneath her facade of lighthearted neutrality. She was giving him a
second chance to correct himself, like she did with no one else.
Tampering down on his rage was as trying to contain water in his fist. Unbidden
and undesired, streams of his boiling temper leaked through his fingers. At
least now it no longer threatened to drown his sense of reason, even if it
simmered conspicuously beneath his skin. Mikaela sighed through his nose. “Yes,
my Queen.” Another breath. “If I may remind you, you promised to explain the
purpose of this human’s capture upon the completion of my assignment.”
She hummed again, teasing and playful. It made his insides thrum and his hands
restless for violence. “But is it really complete?” she said, uncrossing her
legs to rest a round cheek in her deceptively-small palm. “If I recall, you
still have more work to do.”
Don’t lose your temper. Don’t lose your temper. “And when I complete these last
orders?” he said stiffly.

She shrugged daintily, with an air of prim nonchalance. “I still wouldn’t be
ready to tell you. Not until the results come in.”
This was absurd, outrageous. Did she plan to continuously push back the time to
complete her promise, dangling the knowledge that could possibly give him some
form of resolution, some peace of mind? “Results for what?” he narrowed his
eyes with suspicious scrutiny.
“Later.”
The Queen was tauntinghim at this point, dropping information by the scrap to
whet his powerful need to understand some sort of purpose to the agonizing
existential turbulence of these past weeks and then retracting her hand. He
shot her an ugly, infuriated look. “Krul, I-”
“Later.”Her voice, previously light, airy, and unconcerned, hardened like
bedrock. She was quite set in her decision to further withhold from him.
“Continue to do as you’re told, and you’ll be rewarded when I’ve been reassured
of something.”
The hand by his side clenched into an even tighter fist; the squeeze was
powerful enough to turn human bone to powder. “And how am I to believe this
promise?” he challenged, uselessly, as he already knew there would be no
changing her mind.
She smiled, lips curling into something coy and impish and entirely too amused.
“Believe me or not; I suppose I don’t care.”
Suffice it to say, he stormed from the throne room and back towards his room in
an especially foul mood. The fact that he was free from the lying, impudent
little rodent still wasn’t enough to lift his cloud of temper for some inane
reason just out of reach from his mind. There was a burn, an itch, a scratch
beneath the surface of his skin, burrowed between the fibers of his muscles and
the very feeling of wrongness. Despite its infuriating distraction, nothing he
could say to himself or do could take his mind away from it.
At least it would be the last time Mikaela had to deal with Yuuichirou and the
human would readily obey him for once. Why wouldn’t Yuuichirou be eager to
receive his clothes back?
Perhaps, with this absolute resolution, he’d finally come to resemble the
person he was and should be.
If only he could convince his innards to stop churning so unpleasantly.
The halls towards Yuuichirou’s room seemed larger than they used to be and it
made the walk from his current room to his former bedroom seem to take
centuries. It was such an absurd thought that he almost wanted to punch himself
for letting the boy’s insipid daydreaming spread like a disease.
Still, he found an increasingly heavy feeling in his legs, as well as a dry,
sandy texture in his mouth. He’d never felt this way before. Yet another
discomforting anomaly he can blame the insolent child for. This is precisely
what he’s most angry about, Mikaela supposed.
He never asked for the whelp to lose its place and turn him dangerously
complacent, he never asked for him to make foolish presumptions and then thrust
them upon the vampire. What gave that infuriating speck the entitlement that he
could? And, more importantly, why was Mikaela so foolish and so stupid to allow
it to happen? There were pieces of him shattered and scattered and picked apart
by a child, which was humiliating enough, but now there were bits and parts of
scrap of unidentifiable material, non-consensually welded into him. He didn’t
know how to take them out.
He’s not used to thinking about himself, not used to reflecting on his own
personal ‘whys’ and ‘hows’. Besides his sexual appetite, he’s never changed for
the century-plus he’s been in existence. It was the very curse that he
acknowledge to make his life of little value, but at once was also…
comfortable, perhaps, to so completely understand his place in life and what he
must do, what was expected of him, what he could expect from others.
Now the course of a river has changed by forces outside of his control, and he
lacked the tools and knowledge to restore its original path.
A gloved hand clasped around the knob of his thoroughly-abused door. It was
preposterous, but he found himself hesitating for the fraction of a second
before entering.
The boy perked at his entrance, leaping off his bed with a mix of caution but
also undeniable brightness that he had to tell himself not to confuse with
genuine happiness. His eyes met the wide expanse of green, and his hand
clenched around the doorknob, putting metal indents into it before he could
stop himself.
Black fabric sailed through the air, leaving a gloved hand and landing onto the
human’s face, who sputtered in affront and pawed at the material. With the
offensive cloth successfully wrestled from his person, he held it up in small
hands. It was a shirt.
Finding the boy clothes in his proper size within such a short window of time
would be an impossibility. The shirt was one of Mikaela’s spares, grabbed
during the brief stop to his current room. “Get dressed.” he said to the wall
by the door. He refused to look at him, knowing it would only stroke the
quietly-simmering fires of anger bubbling against the lid he’d placed
haphazardly over it.
To say nothing what the sight of what he knew to be a smattering of discolored
splotches lining his neck and shoulders, caused by Mikaela’s lips and tongue,
would do to his already precarious mental fortitude.
The boy held it up like it was an artifact of a foreign culture, alien and
inscrutable. “Huh? Clothes? Really?”
“Get dressed.”  he repeated, tone flat as he crossed his arms and coolly
discouraged any conversation.
There was a long pause, enough of a window of time to don the shirt, but by the
silence and the vague prickle of a tingle against his skin, Mikaela knew the
boy was opting to scrutinize him instead.
Incredible.
When he first took his clothes away, the boy shrieked, spat, and clawed at him
like some sort of hellcat. Now that he had some back he was hesitating?
“Why are you suddenly going back on your decision?” Yuuichirou asked, and
though Mikaela was determinedly not looking at him, he could easily envision
his green eyes narrowed in suspicion. “That’s not like you at all.”
The lid slipped. Some of that hot fury, boiling in the pot of his belly, leaked
through the cracks. “You know nothingabout me.” he hissed, hand clenching
around his bicep. Its grip loosened as the flame quickly died down into a dull
murmur, the lid of his quasi-relief that this would soon be over tempering the
blaze.
With his brief flash of temper cooled, Mikaela’s next words were once again
hard and impassive. Perfectly smooth and unfettered, like the still waters of a
chill winter’s lake. “Time is up. The queen is prepared to execute her plans
for you, whatever they may be. Get dressed.”
It was simultaneously too much and too little for the boy across him. “Time?
Plans? Mika, what’s-” he stuttered.
“Get dressed-”
“Mika-”
“Get-”
“Mika!” his voice pitched into an irritable squeak, a small, bare foot stomping
against the smooth wood of his bedroom floor. “What’s going on, really? What do
you mean the queen is ready? What’s gonna happen now?”
The vampire forced down the rising urge to fruitlessly massage his temples to
assuage the entirely-too-familiar sensation of a coming headache. “You will be
escorted from this room to wherever the new team will take you.”
Yuuichirou appeared to be so confused- as if he was lost in a fog. “Yeah but…
are you coming? Will I come back here?” he said, arms pulled in from their
position on his hips, hugging the shirt to his chest. The new position drew his
entire posture inwards and made him seem even smaller.
He ignored it. “Absolutely not. This is the end for our- this arrangement. Get
dressed. Now.”
“No.” the boy said, crossing his thin arms.
And so he hurriedly dressed himself, for once able to follow a simple command-

What.
He slowly, so slow he could feel every joint and every tendon and every
ligament in his neck churn and groan like the hinges of his ramshackle door,
turned in what felt like fighting through thick sap in the air, to gaze with
such a face of disbelief, as if-
Honestly, there was nothing to compare to this.
He had no adequate words.
“I don’tthink I’ll put it on.”
This can’t be reality. This could very well be a fabrication of his own
boredom-driven delusions; even an uncharacteristic mutation of frivolous
daydreaming would be more likely than this absurdity. Or perhaps he’d gone mad
and this was all a fanciful flight of illusion conjured by his own tortured,
ill mind. Maybe he was dead this whole time, and this was a personal hell to
suffer, the only one miserable enough for the most heinous of villains.
He didn’t know what he did to deserve a punishment so cruel. No one deserved
such- such nonsensethrust upon them.
Mikaela pinched the bridge of nose, a soul-sapping wave of exhaustion settling
over his mind like a suffocating blanket, wrapped around him to smother and
choke the last gasps of his soul as Yuuichirou’s sheer ridiculousnessdrove it
out of him. “You’re not going to put it on.” he said in a deadpan tone. It was
not a question.
“Nope.” the boy said, brazenly putting his hands back onto his thin hips.
“Yuuichirou, put it on.” the blonde thrust out the black garment.
He responded by turning his nose up. “I’m good, thanks.”
“Yuuichirou.”Mikaela didn’t know if he sounded despairingly angry or
desperately pathetic. It all boiled down to this bone-deep exhaustion
incomparable even to fighting an entire battalion single-handedly.
“Nah.” Yet again, the boy turned him down with stubborn insistence.
At this point, he was ready to bury himself for another century. Mikaela
couldn’t see any other feasible way to recover from the sheer drain of energy
this boy subjected him to. “Why?” he asked with poorly-disguised misery, this
time truly unable to stop himself from rubbing his temples.
“Because I don’t wanna leave you! You still haven’t agreed to come home with
me, why would I accept this?” The look in his eye was completely serious. He
fully expected the vampire to one day accept his proposal.
That will neverhappen.
“They’re coming regardless of your state of dress, and I’m never going to
accept your foolish offer, so stop being so obstinate, for once.”he snapped.
But, as he’s learned time and again with this particular, stubborn individual,
he was not one to be deterred by mere logic and common sense. “You also said
you’d never- y-you know-” the boy trailed off, a rich flush coming to his
cheeks; the suggestive insinuations made the vampire taste bile. “You’ve done a
lot of stuff you said you’d never do!”
He drew himself up, cold and firm as a pillar of ice and reflecting nothing but
a desolate landscape void of life and warmth. “Yes. It’s called making a
mistake. A colossal one.” he bit out like a chill winter’s wind.
The boy actually flinched, as if Mikaela had slapped him. It was a perfect
mirror to that act of violence so many weeks ago. The time stretched between
the moment long since passed, where his place in the world slotted neatly into
a perfectly aligned jigsaw puzzle, and this current, small piece of time that
felt entirely larger than it had any right to be. A little scrap of now, bent
and twisted out of shape with words left unsaid and acts left unperformed for
the better of an overall design that’s artist merits he was beginning to doubt.
A haphazard chunk of this instant that had no right and no business flagrantly
flaunting its anomalous existence, and was too misshapen and awkward to
assimilate anymore into the uniform canvas of the past.
Yes, the time between then and now has stretched entirely too long. Eternally
too long.
He felt aged.
Which means, on every level into his psyche, he was changed.
A knock resounded through the room, cutting through their tense atmosphere like
a blade through flesh. Messy, gory, the vulnerable entrails of their fragile
cores spilled onto the unfeeling hardwood floors.
“They’re here.” he said sharply, stuffing in his fragile innards before they
could be trampled on by invisible feet and ache in places he couldn’t see.
“H-huh?!”
“You have two minutes to put that on before an entire squadron parades your
bare body through the entirety of the castle. I should mention that, unlike me,
they’re not kind enough to take consent into consideration.” Lies. They
wouldn’t be touching Yuuichirou. Not when the Queen had such urgent and
explicit plans to carry out for him. His retrieval unit wouldn’t let their
mission, under direct orders from their leader, be delayed for such petty
frivolity.
But it worked anyways. No vampire in existence could match the speed of
Yuuichirou throwing on that shirt and hastily drawing the buttons closed. The
black fabric pulled over those damning marks in a similar manner to a white
sheet over a cadaver.
Pulling the door open signaled the bells, a funeral, a death, a walk to the end
of a life and leaving nothing but the scattered memories of the survivors to
clumsily, shakily knit something patchwork to resemble what once was.
The figures, dressed in all white, in flowing, free, loose fabrics that he
forced himself to concretely remember were mere cloaks of a vampire’s uniform
and not the robes of angels falling onto the deceased, marched into the room.
Gloved hands of various sizes clamped around the arms of the boy. Chains were
summoned, their clink and clank weighing on his mind as if he were the one to
be bound, were he not seemingly already, and were clamped tightly around
Yuuichirou’s thin little wrists.
“Mika!” he called over his shoulder, even as the little blots of white washed
him away, down the River Styx and into the monster’s maw.
No man is an island.
“Mika, please!” They surrounded him like the snow blanketed the soft grass and
earth and life of autumn, summer’s corpse.
Ask not for whom the bell tolls.
“Mika please don’t forget! Please! Don’t forget what you deserve!”
It tolls for thee.
In ways he didn’t know how to identify, didn’t want to identify-
He didn’twant this to be reality.
 
Chapter End Notes
     Mika wat the fuk.
     The pretentious lines at the end are from from "No Man is an Island",
     a poem by John Donne. What an awesome name!! I'll leave it up to you
     guys to read it and interpret it, especially in relation to this fic
     and the character(s). ;D It's public domain, so you can find the
     whole thing on Wikipedia. It's literally only, like, 8 lines long.
     The song lyrics at the beginning are from "Rise Again" by TJ
     Stafford, who also makes a reference to this poem.
     Hm... I wonder how all this pertains to Mika...
     AND HSFJDKGL AAAAH!!!!! THANKS AGAIN TO TH WONDERUL ARA, AKA
     _HIHAZUKI FOR THE ART!!!! For the longest time I was stuck between
     giving Mika his regular canon guard uniform, because he's a practical
     person, or giving something slightly spiced up to reflect his
     nobility. Ara is so fuckin' brilliant- she found the P E R F E C T
     middle ground!! She's wonderful X3333
     As always, comments are loved and appreciated! I love hearing from
     you guys!
***** Mourning Bride *****
Chapter Notes
     This chapter is dedicated to the wonderful Oxy. Without you and your
     absolutely mind-bending amount of support and encouragement, this
     would never have been finished. Oxy is the writer of the wonderful,
     impossibly perfect Corner of a Birdcage. Go read it!!
See the end of the chapter for more notes
It was a curious thing, the passage of time.
For the century and more that he remembers in fits and bursts, the ever-
changing world around him has come and gone without more than a cursory glance.
Time around him passed in small blooms of the fleetingly-curious, in speckles
of waning interest found sparingly between large, flat, gray bedrocks of
monotony, punctuated only by the rare fountain of fascination to be quickly
drained away.
The wax and wane of the moon and the sun’s arrival and departure, signalling
the death and rebirth of nations and people and the very seasons themselves,
were but a blink. The details of which went by him in a multicolor blur, mixing
into an ugly blend of a muted brownish black.
Just as a statue, cold and still and as full of life as the underbelly of a
catacomb, stood unfettered in the face of the growing, changing, evolving world
it so brazenly contrasted, so did Mikaela and his ilk.
Other vampires often grandiosely postured themselves in the breath as the sun,
the moon, the very rock and earth that stood beneath his feet. The eternal that
would live far beyond a mere human, that would stand forever as a testament to
their infallibility and perfection.
After Yuuichirou had grown ill because of his own ignorance, Mikaela had taken
it upon himself to study the human race, their recent discoveries, their
sociological structure and physiology. According to their science, even the
moon is destined to fling itself away from the Earth; even the sun is destined
to burn itself away; even the Earth is expected to disintegrate in the face of
the sun’s final days. Everything and everyone dies eventually, under the burden
of time.

 And yet, even vampires stand indifferent to time’s machinations. Perhaps they
were always and will always be the unnatural and unwelcome forces upon this
world.
Despite his vision being born into a black and gray filter that muffled his
environments into a low, dull hum, it was only now beginning to feet entirely
incorrect. For the first time, it pestered in the forefront of his mind rather
than fester in the back of it.
He’d always been aware of his paltry existence, but until this assignment,
never contemplated such useless thoughts beyond the darkness of the back of his
eyelids. Never allowed it to distract him from whatever goals he’d set himself
for the day. He certainly never allowed it to drive him up the private
staircase behind Krul’s throne and languish in the outside night air.
Mikaela thought that once the poison was excised from his person, the symptoms
of his erratic and inscrutable behavior would quietly close to a halt. He’d
been wandering in a dark corridor for weeks, blindly clawing at impassive walls
for direction, only to find answers that could not be understood or
interpreted  into anything he understood.
With the absence of the figure he determined to be the root cause of his
afflictions now removed from his daily routine, and said afflictions failing to
abate, he was left with the only conclusion that he was very much lost for
reasons he couldn’t fathom.
In more colloquial terms, he was ‘back to square one’.
He had been so sure the knowledge of Yuuichirou’s manipulation would reverse
all of the strange effects he’d had on Mikaela’s stable existence. His careful
exploitation was an act so malicious and skillful that he never could have
guessed the boy capable of it, or he capable of succumbing to it.
And yet, here he was, still feeling, for the lack of a better term, horrible.
Only before, the embarrassing pain felt like a sword in his stomach. Now the
feeling has been ripped away, along with everything else in him. What little he
possessed- drive, focus, diligence, has sapped away with the white cloaks
carrying the boy off. It was paradoxical emptiness so heavy he felt himself
crushed beneath its weight.
This past month was something akin to firecrackers in a silent room, aurora
lights in a dark night sky. The death of their light and sound only made the
contrast of the inky blackness and suffocating silence all the more dreary.
If this were prior to Yuuichirou’s collection, he might have worked up the
energy and emotional frustration to punch the tree next to him. As it were, he
didn’t have the motivation to oversee his own arena.
The moon glimmered high above him, disinterested in his own petty affairs. It
was almost full, give it another night. Maybe two.
Mikaela was beside himself with the knowledge that he didn’t even know himself
anymore, that he could not place the cause of the foreign twisting in his
stomach and the deep weight in the core of his body, nor could he fathom a
cure.
It would do him no favors to languish and brood in the darkness with nothing to
occupy his discomfiting and alien thoughts except the fruitless circle of its
ever-elusive solution. An individual restless unless occupied in some manner
with productivity, in whatever form it may take- that is who he’s supposed to
be. If he wanted to return to that person he should be, perhaps he should start
with emulating him.
He’d learned in a particularly humiliating way that sexual activity was no
longer an option for him, so perhaps another way was in order. Anything to
recognize himself.
 
===============================================================================
 
 
A metallic ring sang through the air, cutting through it with the beauty and
the fury of a bird of prey.
The anger, once resting beside him with all the familiarity and comfort of a
cat in dappled sunlight, finally rushed to his side yet again. His inconvenient
and shameless visitor now came to him in waves and cycles, in seemingly
sporadic visits.
He didn’t know who was to blame for his temper- it used to always, always,
always be that petulant, insufferable brat and his continuous shriek for a
voice. But he wasn’t here anymore, and whatever lies and manipulations he’d
enacted on Mikaela’s person should be irrelevant as the liar himself. He should
feel the satisfactory revenge of watching him dragged off into the darkened
corridors of the castle. It would be illogical to sustain his fury.
Who was he angry at? Krul? For putting him into this position in the first
place? That would be illogical as well. As Queen, it is within her rights to
bestow any order upon him, and what seemingly-simplistic orders they were. Keep
an insignificant human alive, unharmed, and out of the way until an unspecified
date. Anyone could do it, any single damned one of them. If they could keep
their bloodlust in check, any single, common vampire in the entire city would
be more than capable. Even that wretched pit of depravity, Bathory.
No. Perhaps he was angry at himself. It was he that, against all odds, found a
way to bungle a single, unextraordinary job. He was the fool to consistently
misjudge and mishandle what should have been a simple creature from the very
start of the assignment. An entire century of a rigidly ordained routine was
falling apart at the seams and he had no fool to blame but himself.
The cold edge of his sword grew hot as if to boil with his blood, violently
slashing through the air with all the relentless fervor of a swarm of hornets.
His opponent’s eyes shrunk into small red dots, and as he attempted to back
away from the bite of Mikaela’s blade, the fabric of his white uniform flapped
wildly in the air, mimicking the ungainly flailing he was trying to pass off as
swordsmanship.
It had been minutes- hours- many hours since he’d arrived to oversee his arena,
and the news of his temper must have reached the farthest corners of the city
by now, because the number of challengers has dwindled to the smallest of
pinches.
Mikaela’s pit was a place for vampires to train and hone their skills in
combat, especially the static and listless guardsmen, who were tasked with the
most lethargic of duties and given little opportunity for real combat to keep
their blades finely honed. He would oversee as an instructor, much to the
annoyance of far older vampires that felt nothing but contempt for such a young
pup’s arrogance and presumption to correct their stance and form.
And it was a rare day he offered himself as an opponent; those were the most
crowded days.
But compared to the usual flocks of challengers, all eager for their chance to
put the newest addition to their ranks, the much-loathed rising upstart, in his
place, the modest gathering of a dozen individuals was sparse.
In comparison, the audience gathered in the seats to watch was
disproportionately massive to the dwindling smattering of participants.
Vampires had little better to do with their time than the entertainment of
their peers’ degradation.
His opponent’s beaten, limp, and humiliated body was sent flying into the back
of the arena with a well-placed kick to his head, signalling an end to their
one-sided match.
“Next.” he said dispassionately to a crowd of hesitant onlookers, who shifted
and murmured restlessly like a gaggle of dimwitted mules.
A head of silver hair revealed itself in the throng, made more and more
prominent by the retreating vampires parting before him like the fabled Red
Sea.

 The blonde wordlessly tightened his grip on the handle of his sword. “At the
ready.” he said in a monotone that could break glass. Just seeing Bathory made
his anger burn all the hotter, made his blade sing for blood. In some ways, it
was perfect. There was no better target for his currently foul temper than the
wretch that never failed to ignite it.
A gloved hand held up a single, spidery finger. “Ah-ah, Mikaela. I’m not here
to play with you. I’m here to ask if it’s true.” With that, every ear within
three hundred feet perked at full attention. Most of the nearby vampires had
the common sense to feign no interest and put up a facade of preoccupation.
Heads didn’t turn, but Mikaela wished he could have them rolling.
“Is it true your pet was finally taken away by the Queen?”
“He was never a pet.” His sensitive hearing could pick up indistinct murmuring.
He’d said something unusual, but what? “And he was certainly never mine to be
taken.”
Bathory cupped his chin into his palm, eyes bent into half-moons with his
feigned cheer. “But nonetheless, it is gone, I take it?“ he sighed
theatrically, more than happy to put on a show for their audience. “Such a
pity. It was a darling little thing- a bit loud and boisterous, but nothing a
firm hand couldn’t fix. Besides, the vivacious ones tend to have the boldest
flavors. I may just ask our lady queen if I may keep it for myself.”
He didn’t care about the human, but the thought of Yuuichirou in the other
vampire’s hands made his blood curdle like spoiled food. Though, any individual
with even a sliver of a sense of decency would pity any creature subjected to
Bathory’s whims. It made him sick to imagine the boy with an indomitable spirit
he could grudgingly admit to admiring as one of the dead-eyed husks he’d seen
at Bathory’s side in the past.
And he had no doubt he would be seeing the theoretically broken Yuuichirou,
when the other noble would enjoy parading his new ownership. Mikaela had no
doubt he would happily show his new toy off to him.
But that was assuming it would even be a possibility. Bathory’s complete
assuredness that Yuuichirou would just be tossed back to the first bidder at a
moment’s notice was uncharacteristically dim of him.
He furrowed his brow. “What are you talking about? Whatever the queen has
planned for him, Yuuichirou will not be returning anytime soon.” he could only
assume the boy was captured for some form of interrogation. However, that made
very little sense when put up against the last few weeks of secrecy and drawn-
out delaying. Why wait and dawdle for so long, why prolong as if to build up an
unforeseen payoff, when an interrogation would be simple as a cell and a few
broken fingers?
That said, it was still the only purpose that would be of relevance to the
queen that he could muster for a young, inexperienced soldier of very little
importance in the grand scheme of an army.
It hadn’t occurred to him until now, what with his determination to push away
all thoughts pertaining to the boy, but he could very well wind up executed
when she’s through with him. “He’ll likely be killed anyways.” he said, the
words settling heavily on his tongue.
“Don’t be silly, Mikaela! Of course the Queen wouldn’t kill the boy, not when
she went through such aches and pains to keep it alive.” At this, Bathory
looked eerily self-assured.
But who knew what was going on in her head anymore? Nothing she did or said
made any sense. Nothing in general made sense. Not even himself. He barely even
recognized that stranger. “Yes. She kept him alive to fulfill whatever plan she
has in store for him. Once that is complete, his use will be void, and he will
likely be properly disposed of.” His own body rebelled against him, his throat
constricting in protest against words that fought through the tight column of
flesh like noxious slime.
The other noble tapped his chin in mock-thought. Around them, vampires of all
stations and class watched their exchange with undisguised interested. “Hm, I
wonder if such a boy is even worth killing? It’s a low-ranking officer,
correct? So it needn’t die, especially if a noble such as myself would desire
it.”
His blond brows furrowed deeper at this. Despite that it was coming from
Bathory’s contemptible tongue, the logic had sound merit to it. Yuuichirou,
being such an insignificant part of a larger army, would not necessarily
warrant killing if a high-ranking and important noble would prefer to keep him
for himself.
But why would Bathory still want Yuuichirou? Is he so petty he would snatch the
boy up solely because Mikaela refused to give him to him?

 He didn’t need a second longer to remember with a sinking feeling that, yes,
he was completely petty enough, should he come to the conclusion that he could
get some amusement from it.
Silver hair glinted in the artificial light above, the vampire smiling at his
continued consternation, and it did nothing except make him dread whatever he
was about to say. It was the smile of a man about to pounce for the kill.
“Surely you can understand my burning curiosity? To think our infamously frigid
and reticent prince let down his icy barriers enough to  screw  a human boy; it
must be an excellent lay.” The bastard smirked salaciously, and the gathering
around them burst into fevered whispering, but Mikaela was more preoccupied
with the feeling of the earth shattering beneath his feet.
The absolute worst-case scenario for this whole debacle was its existence
coming to light within the general populace. Mikaela knew, without a doubt,
that his peers would never forget that their frigid, nigh-untouchable Captain
Shindou lowered himself into laying with the pigs of his own free will.
Nevermind that nearly half of them would do the same thing if Yuuichirou had
been put under their care, only they wouldn’t even adhere to his consent.
Sex was considered a disgusting livestock act according to an overwhelming
majority of vampires, but any and all exceptions could be made for the benefit
of tormenting a human. The games played with toys were more acceptable than
genuine participation.
Compared to the general populace, Mikaela had always presented himself as above
the callous, piggish entertainment of the screams of agony from an edible toy.
He had no doubt a number of vampires had his disdainful face, peering down his
nose at them, engrained into their memories. For him to essentially reveal
himself as a hypocrite would no doubt be endlessly amusing for decades to come.
If he slept with Yuuichirou with his consent, he would be considered ironically
depraved amongst other members of his own species. If he raped Yuuichirou, he
would be considered the city’s greatest bold-faced, pretentious liar, too good
for their games in public but more than happy to play in private, all the while
masquerading moralistic superiority.
 “...And where might you have heard these rumors?” he said, through the wads of
cotton on his tongue.

 “Hm… a little bird.”
Auriel. Of course. His punishment ended over a week ago, and he is a career spy
and scout that made it his bread and butter, so to speak, to eavesdrop and
collect information. But where was he hiding that night? In Mikaela’s
uncharacteristic explosion of emotion, he was certainly paying less attention
to his surroundings, but surely not so much so that he would miss a snooping
vampire of such a lower caliber. He stayed silent, which was just as well
admitting to it, and tried to ignore the unadulterated glee radiating from
Bathory. He was grinning so widely the blonde thought it might split his face
open like a melon.
“What are you doing here?” he said, tired again. He was struck with the
unfamiliar, but powerful urge to lie down and sleep for another century.
“Oh, I just wanted to-”

 “I actually don’t care. Leave.” Not only was he exhausted from sinking into
this veritable pit of confusion and frustration at his inability to claw
himself out of it, but he’d also been deeply humiliated before dozens of others
that would most likely spread the contents of their conversation across the
entire city by the end of the day.
Over a century of perfecting himself, of holding himself to a standard far and
beyond the bar both humans and vampires set for intelligence, power, and
responsibility, all to scrape out a scrap of respect from peers that saw him as
nothing better than an upstart pup, went up in flames in the amount of time it
took Yuuichirou to lose his temper.
Not only would the rest of his eternity be undoubtedly a monotony of limited
purpose to bear no meaningful fruit, but every year leading up to this point
was a hollow, worthless sham at productivity. He would never live up to the
purpose given to him by Krul now, not when the rest of his foreseeable days was
one as a private joke, bereft of any respect from the populations intended to
be his subjects in the event of Krul’s termination.
Was there even any point to his life anymore? The one thing he was turned for
in the first place was rendered permanently moot.
The smile on the older vampire’s face was entirely too happy. “But it’s
important! I just want to know if, in the very case of the boy’s survival, you
were interested in keeping it for yourself. What with all the time and care
you’ve spent on it, our beautiful Queen would surely favor your bid.”
Him? Keep Yuuichirou? What an absurd idea. Why would he desire that irritating
menace back into his life when he’d spent over a month wishing with all of his
power that the sentient headache could be relieved from him like a painful
infection?
“Keep pestering me, and I may out of my endless spite for you.” he said, if
only for the satisfaction of delivering the snide remark to Bathory’s smug
face. But with the very likely possibility of his survival presented before
him, memories came unbidden. Not unpleasant ones, not the recollections of
about a lifetime’s worth of fury boiled into a short span of a handful of
weeks, but the afterimages burned into his eyes of how small he appeared in the
tub.
The hoarse quake in his voice when he described his squad, the wet, dewy
quality of his eyes when he spoke of his family, the way his warm body moved
beneath his own, why would he remember these things now, above everything else
the boy did?
With him so flooded by memories of the boy that bordered on tolerable only when
informed of the boy’s likely survival, Mikaela himself must appreciate the
possibility. Why? Why would he?
Yuuichirou had done nothing but make him want to scream and pull his hair out
by the individual strand. Their… intimacy aside, which was a one-time mistake
and anyways, he felt nothing but contempt for him.
Well, perhaps that wasn’t true either. He could clearly recall the grudging
respect he felt for his indomitable will to be unconquered and untamed, to
refuse to kneel, even when at the mercy of a creature several times more
powerful in his littlest finger alone. He could clearly recall his attraction,
the way he admired the remarkable shade of his eyes, the way he undeniably
wanted him during their brief time in the bed together.
Bathory’s voice, perhaps fortunately, cut into his thoughts before they could
derail into a territory he wasn’t sure should be expanded on. “Mikaela?” he
tittered in a voice that was an unmistakably gleeful sing-song while looking
over his shoulder.
He sucked in a deep breath through his nose, mentally preparing himself for
whatever infuriating tripe was going to spew from the smug bastard like filth
from the earth. “What.”
“Just kidding. No one told me anything; I just guessed.”
Mikaela, absolutely boiling in a pot of his own infuriation with the leery
bastard, could only respond with his sword. Metal sang like the shrieks of a
thousand demons as it cut through the air, imbedding itself into far wall. The
wretch had made him so angry he thoughtlessly lobbed his own sword at the back
of his head, missing when the vampire flitted away with a ear-grating laugh.
Mikaela wasn't sure what to make of that night’s revelation, other than to toss
restlessly in his sheets in a futile attempt to rest his weary mind. Since that
conversation with Bathory, his thoughts had been a record on an infuriatingly
permanent skip. The echo of persistent repeat scratched against the inside of
his skull, drilling through his head so agonizingly it made the thought of
goring his own cranium appealing. It’s not like he’d die anyways.
The song in question, of course, was his own indecisiveness. The alien
confusion and uncertainty he’d never been faced with in his entire life.
Even suggesting that he could possibly want the little nuisance back was the
height of a drunkard’s worthless ramblings. To what end? Mikaela was not a man
that did anything without a purpose, and the very fact that he could not
produce an answer to his own question proved the fault of asking it.
But it was still undeniable; the possibility that he could, in some way, shape,
manner, or form desire the boy’s presence again was becoming more likely the
longer his mind rebelled against his wish for rest and raced in fruitless
circles.
Well, it was a useless line of thought anyways, if he were to really die, but…
there was also the strong likelihood he could live. Yes?
Additionally, if it were possible to push the current ordeal from his mind,
Mikaela would have done it by now, for all the effort he’d been putting into
trying.
He was tired of floundering uselessly in the once tranquil caverns of his own
mind. Yuuichirou was clearly the epicenter of his hurricane of thoughts and
emotional reaction. Mikaela himself wasn't sure what he wanted, other than the
peace of self-awareness and the security of a clear identity- things like
goals, desires, and whatever else made up an individual.
Previously, his goal was simply to fulfill the purpose given to him: to be a
successful heir to Krul’s position, to be a competent addition to their army.
Now, that was looking increasingly impossible with his repeated public
humiliations and social disgraces committed one after the other before a long-
lived audience with an equally long memory. Now, he didn’t know what should be
his resolution.
Previously, his desires were comfortingly simple: he had none, other than to
complete his goals. Now, he was faced with a failed justification for his own
existence and was left without a replacement. Thus, he did not know what he
desired.
The vampire once believed the foundation of his existence to be built on an
immovable bedrock, incapable of change, transformation, or even the smallest
drift in any direction than the roots he sprouted from. For centuries he stood
impassive to the outside environment, until waves, powerful in their temper and
vivacious with their noise, crashed into him by the head and ground his stone
base into feeble sand.
Mikaela’s house was built on stand and the storm was swallowing him whole
At the crux of it all was Yuuichirou. If the boy was the cause of his
disruption, than perhaps it really would be best to return to address the root
cause of it.
It was a horrifically poor idea, considering how directionless he was and how
vague the supposed solution. Throwing oneself with reckless abandon into
territories uncharted and fields unmapped was to beggar disaster in a most
wanton fashion. What could the boy do that would resolve the changes within?
What did he think meeting the boy again could bring him? What did he intend to
do with the boy? Supposing Mikaela was repaired, what did he intend to do with
him then?
As much as a fool’s errand he knew this misguided venture to be, he truly had
little else to lose. It's not as if he has to worry what the other vampires
would think at this point. Now the only thing he had left anymore was his own
peace of mind to theoretically spend the rest of his worthless days
contemplating the miserable eternity of an undying existence spent in futility,
unfulfillment, and abject failure.
Krul was the one who held all of the answers in her palm and has gleefully
toyed with his need for them this entire time. She was also the one who held
the boy’s life at her whim, and was the one to dictate justification of his
existence in the first place.
With his retrieval, it was obvious Mikaela’s part in her scheme was truly over.
She no longer had an excuse to further this ridiculous delay.
It's time for her to uphold her promise to him.
===============================================================================
 
He dressed himself swiftly and with the practiced efficiency of a daily routine
made near-religious. Button this here, lace those ties here, clasp this, attach
that, and finish with his simple, silver ring, enchanted to protect him from
the sun’s deadly light. The vampire never went without it, tucked safely
beneath his gloves.
It was only just past the afternoon, going by his keen internal clock. This
hour was somewhat the equivalent of just past midnight, to a human. Just as
humans could function on a nocturnal sleep cycle, but were naturally attuned to
the daylight, so were vampires better suited to sleeping during the sun’s
hours, despite having the capacity to function during that time.
The extravagant double-wooden doors that lead to Krul’s throne room stood tall
and, to some, imposing. If Yuuichirou were truly a part of some important plan,
as her behavior lead him to believe, then it would only be logical that the
queen be hard at work even at this hour, doing… whatever she had planned for
the boy. This was not even including the fact that they were currently at war,
so she was already issuing orders and receiving reports, and the like, around
the clock.
Naturally, this lead to Mikaela bursting through the entrance with all the care
and etiquette as if they were a public commodity, fit for the reckless abuse of
the unwashed masses. A familiar vampire with rich copper hair gaped at his
audacity with the sort of horrified disbelief one would reserve for a vampire
with the absolute depravity to sleep with a human consensually.
“Dismissed, Cato.” her youthful voice rang across the room, startling the one
known as Cato. Out of a long-lived habit, he immediately searched his near-
encyclopedic memory to match the name with any bit of information he had
pertaining to it. Cato… The only Cato he knew to reside in the city was
Ignatius Cato.
Ignatius Cato is a member of Auriel Crofton’s reconnaissance company.
While he made the extra effort to keep his face neutral, the red-headed
vampire’s sharp-eyed gaze indicated that he picked up on Mikaela’s subtle
scrutiny. It was of no consequence to him, considering the blonde’s mind was
sent careening into an absolutely punishing marathon, racing at a speed that
far outmatched even the swiftest of their kind to snatch at these infuriatingly
abstruse little droplets of clues. The harder he clenched his hands around
them, the more easily they slipped through the cracks of his grip and fell onto
the floor in a baffling postmodern abstraction.
He knew without a doubt that the connection between Ignatius and Auriel meant
something critical to the entire puzzle, but he was missing large pieces and
still had no idea what the end result was supposed to look like. This was once
again information that he didn’t know where or how to place.
True, Ignatius could very easily be submitting a report on almost anything his
squadron might have recently surveyed, but if that were the case, Krul wouldn’t
be so quick to end their meeting. He was a prominent captain of their army,
where would there be an issue in him overhearing a report that would appear at
his desk a mere handful of hours later anyway?
The other vampire passed him without a word and a set of hard, challenging eyes
trained on him his entire way out. Mikaela largely ignored the impudent yipping
of an ill-mannered and insolent dog, whose only interest was to seek more
opportunity to inflate his already fit-to-burst sense of self-importance. But
it was the intensity of the glare that jogged his memory of two vampires sent
running in terror, before the night he shared with Yuuichirou. He repressed the
urge to be sick at the reminder of what he’d done to destroy his own damned
self, and the implications that a member of the scouting company, a veritable
career spy, was within such a critical proximity to his room while they
indulged in unsavory activities.
Wait. If Auriel was in cohorts with Bathory, and Ignatius was in cohorts with
Auriel...
Did Bathory… did Bathory actually lie twice-?
The door shut behind him with a grand echo, and he forcibly pulled himself away
from this train of thought for another time. Right now, he needed all of his
mental faculties at the best performance possible. Nothing less would be of any
help when dealing with the particular breed of woman that was his sire. “I
presume you know what I came here for.”
Narrow shoulders lifted into a shrugging motion, a conceding gesture of
acceptance. “It would be only fair.” The queen tapped her fingers on the
armrest of her throne, lips pursed and brows wrinkled. Whatever was to come
must be something of great importance, for her to not only pass a chance to
tease him for his childlike rudeness, but also deliberate her words so
carefully and so openly.
She spoke again only after spending a considerable pause visibly building her
sentence into something cautiously delivered. “Before we begin I must tell you
something very important; in another eleven hours, I’ll be in a long call with
the other high-ranking progenitors on the nature of our conversation.” The
information was simultaneously cryptic and telling.
‘The nature’ of their conversation is Yuuichirou. She was going to speak with
the  highest-ranking vampires , arguably the most powerful beings on the
planet, about the tiny, squeaking headache he’d been watching? Mikaela had
greatly underestimated his significance, if that's the case. What could he
possibly know that would warrant the attention of the entire progenitor
council?
Krul’s voice, high-pitched and deceptively girlish, interrupted his miles-per-
hour race to put the entire picture together. “I want you to stay in this room
and watch over the exit behind my throne. I don’t want to risk the subject
escaping through it, especially since the castle is still currently cleared of
guards.” Escape? That tiny slip of a boy? Wherever he was currently
sequestered, he was no doubt surrounded for miles by creatures more powerful
than his frail human body by the exponent, there was no feasible scenario
imaginable in which he could fight, sneak, or evade his way through them
And regardless, Krul was the queen. At her disposal, at the merest wave of her
smallest finger, she could summon a veritable army of even the most incompetent
of grunts with more than enough strength to stop a fragile human child, at any
moment’s notice. Why was she delegating this to him?
She must have sensed the consternation in his gaze, going by the light of
sudden realization flashing across her youthful face. “Ah, that’s right. My
order won’t make sense until I’ve finished the whole story.” she said, and once
again began to tap the armrest of her throne with that same air of careful
deliberation. The furrow in her brow has grown into the sharpest angle he’d
ever seen on her.
“The Seraph of the End.” she said, the words striking him like the sharpest of
any blade, reaching his ears and setting off alarm bells.  This was territory
he would have always considered non-sequitur to follow the topic of Yuuichirou,
and thinking of those subjects as even tangentially connected dredged up both
the familiar bafflement of trying to understand the mind of that very boy, and
an acute sense of alarm. If the boy is in any way connected to that forbidden
territory, then he was undeniably deeply involved in something massive. And
that meant his fate was sealed, no questions considered.
His progenitor didn’t stop there. “That was the forbidden project the humans
had partaken in, the one that lead to the near-destruction of our world. You
are one of the few made aware of even the scant amount of details I gave you.”
Mikaela knew that, in a race for power, the humans dabbled with forbidden magic
and experiments, using orphaned children as their subjects, and ultimately
brought about the ruin of their world. But that was the extent of any of the
details given to him.
It couldn’t be- she wasn’t really going to suggest-?
“The boy known as Hyakuya Yuuichirou was a subject in the experiment.”
For the first time since he’d been given this assignment, Mikaela’s mind has
been wiped completely, utterly blank.
The queen paid no heed to his potential reaction, and did not care to check for
it, continuing her story regardless of him. “Eight years ago, the Hyakuya
Orphanage was a public cover for human experiments to harness forbidden power.”
Hyakuya… that was the name Yuuichirou introduced himself with.
“When the virus broke out, I sent a scouting party to eliminate the children
identified to have been subjects for the project for proper execution. Their
continued existence would’ve been a danger to us all, human or vampire.”  Now,
she decided to pause briefly and examine him, maybe to check how well he was
following. Mikaela had to fight through the blood pounding in his ears and the
staccato whine of static in his mind to really listen.
It was simply a story difficult to swallow, that the tiny, fragile child he’d
fought, argued with, and even slept with, was one of those responsible for the
end of the world.
Despite his mental reeling, the queen must have been satisfied enough by his
neutral mask to continue. “However, upon the team’s arrival, the targets were
missing. The captain of the retrieval mission suggests the likely scenario that
a leader among the children encouraged them to move locations for safety.”
He'd been informed for years now that the matter had been taken care of, that
their forces wiped out the dangerous experiments in the initial sweep. But the
truth is that a handful of the subjects escaped before they could be properly
exterminated, and Krul, for whatever insanity she might attempt to disguise as
a reason, decided it would be a better idea to keep the entire debacle under
wraps, rather than simply announce the failure of the mission. Their entire
army could have amassed a single, massive effort into a large-scale search.
They might have even found the children within weeks, days- who was to say?
It was a decision that has endangered them all.
When it was apparent that he was not going to respond, she continued to spill
her stream of information. “Just a few months ago, a report submitted by
Crofton’s scouting company claimed to have witnessed a human soldier matching
the description of one of the children. I quickly ordered its capture.”
So that's why Auriel did something so uncharacteristically stupid. Yuuichirou
was, seemingly, a simple, common boy. A man as detached and listless as Auriel
would normally give him no more notice than a small insect on a window. Even
counting the novelty of a human child catching Mikaela’s attention, he would
still not be worth his wrath. That flimsy excuse of being, ‘just curious’ was a
lie to mask the true point of his interest: the seraph.
 And Auriel… he was working with Bathory. Did Bathory know this as well? Is
that why he wants the boy so badly? How much of this- this elaborate scandal
flew right under his nose? “You didn't think that knowledge would place
Yuuichirou in danger? You didn't think it necessary to warn me of the
individuals that knew such sensitive information about him?” he said,
impatience flaring with the increasingly nonsensical queen.
She was frustratingly cool beneath his pointed questions, with the gall to seem
so unfettered even when spouting what might have been the greatest of insanity.
“No. The knowledge of the boy’s status was kept strictly classified to protect
from the even greater danger of another vampire attempting to sabotage this
very critical juncture.”
He was pulled from his thoughts, his mind’s race to make the connections
between the scattered scraps of vaguely-worded, cryptic exchanges and obscure
hints from these past weeks, out of sheer disbelief. “How does that make any
logical sense, by any stretch of the definition? You trusted me with the
classified information of the seraph’s existence in the first place. Why
couldn’t you trust me with this vital information that could protect the boy’s
life, which was you order? And  what took you so long to end him? Why did we
have to wait if the goal was to execute him in the first place?” The more
information she supplied him, the more senseless and absurd the whole thing
sounded and the more questions it raised.
A breath of air puffed through her nose and a narrow-eyed look of scrutiny
burrowed into him. “Firstly, I  was  going to tell you, but I wanted to observe
you a bit first. I was right to hesitate, after the way your behavior has grown
so out-of-character as of late. You became too unpredictable to trust.”
Instantly, his mouth opened to protest, a knee-jerk response to an accusation
that would have been a complete lie spewed out of pure defensive habit. It was
cut off by her small hand, raised in a halting motion, and his own self-
awareness. “Secondly, we first had to identify, with certainty, that it was the
correct human and not a look-alike. Some of the time during your role as its
keeper was spent on DNA testing, in search of the seraph gene. Then we had to
fly in specialists and necessary equipment, and then wait for a feasible
procedure to be devised.”
What? “Why all the procedure? What would it matter if we killed the wrong boy?
We’ve slaughtered hundreds of thousands of soldiers and children in our
conquest and in our war, across the entire globe. What is one more?” It was,
perhaps, a callously blunt position, especially with the way a small part of
him, somewhere in his chest, going by the ache, protested. But it was also the
logical one.
“First and foremost, we wanted a period to interrogate it on the whereabouts of
the other orphans, so we won’t be killing it immediately anyways. Then there’s
the fact that there’s no guarantee the seraph won’t be unleashed onto this
world if the human is killed carelessly. Had the initial mission eight years
ago been a success, we would have captured the children and brought them to
Sanguinem for proper disposal. Instead, we’ll do that belatedly.”
“Proper disposal?” He asked, feeling a draft chilling his core. Mikaela was
many things, but naive was not one of them. Not only had he doubted that the
human would be released so easily to him to begin with, but after Bathory
somehow managed to convince him of the possibility, he’d still held his
reservations. And as soon as Krul mentioned the Seraph of the End, her girlish
voice tinkling with the finality of funeral bells, he  knew  Yuuichirou’s fate
was sealed.
But...
“Yes. The seraph gene will have to be extracted from it, using a combination of
medicine, biological science, and spellcraft, then contained, and then
destroyed. Some of the magic involved will only be possible to perform with the
full moon at a peak. Of course, doing so will involve ripping away roughly ten
percent of the human’s genetic makeup. The team predicts the subject will die
of rapid cellular degeneration and necrosis; in the simplest terms, his body
will break down.”
But to hear the explicit details of how he was going to meet his end… the
vampire felt more unsettled than he was probably supposed to. He felt cold.
“By midnight, the human will be dead.”
He knew it- he always knew there was a strong chance the boy would face certain
death, so why is his breath so staccato, his frigid heartbeat arrhythmic?
“‘Him’. That’s what you said, wasn’t it?”
It was, because Mikaela is a fool.
“I warned you, didn’t I? Don’t get too attached.”
===============================================================================
 
 
‘Attached’. is that the apt word for this? Mikaela can acknowledge that just
before his meeting with Krul, he made the concession of his own free will that
he required Yuuichirou to find closure, to settle his racing thoughts. To
figure out what had happened to him, in what specific, tangible way he’d been
changed, and if it could be reversed.
The mindless march from the throne room, the candle he lit in his first,
original room, the hours that passed wherein he gazed at the flickering light
of the small fire- they all came and went in an indistinct smear of time.
Soft, warm light flickered, little flashes of brightness that made the shadows
of his former room flow and recede like the change of a dark ocean’s tide.
It was a truly curious thing, the passage of time. Once again, he could barely
notice it.
...What did he do now? Will Krul have new orders for him once it comes to light
that he most likely wouldn't be eligible to stand as a potential successor to
her throne when he can't even fulfill a simple guard mission with dignity?
Shadows played in the corners of his vision, coyly pushing and pulling the soft
glow in an almost childlike game.
Was there anything he wanted? Anything he hoped for her to select for him?
Mikaela’s never particularly wanted anything before, nothing independently,
what he wasn't told to want, or unrelated to fulfilling his role as a potential
future leader for a group of individuals he never eve]n cared for.
If you wanted something, it either served a tangible purpose that you required,
or you liked it.
What does it mean to like something? Was there anything he liked? They were
such an infantile questions- since when did things so trite matter?
But it was not as if anything else did anymore, least of all himself.
If one disliked something, they preferred to chop off a limb rather than be
around it. Mikaela could say there was a long list of things and people he
didn't like. So it would stand to reason the reverse was true for the things
and people you enjoyed- you wanted to be around them more.
Mikaela supposed he enjoyed being alone with a book. He liked reading, enjoyed
learning. The satisfaction of retaining information and having the capacity to
pull it up at a relevant and necessary time was undeniable. And it wasn't even
a guess that he enjoyed performances- theater and orchestras.
If Krul told him that she no longer wanted him to take the throne, he would not
weep, or even feel a shred of grief for the lost potential future. Clearly, it
was not something he wanted for himself.
And… if she told him he would need to watch Yuuichirou again… Well, it would
fall exactly in place with what he'd originally planned to ask anyways.
But that in itself was confusing for him. He wanted to retrieve Yuuichirou
despite there being not even an inkling of evidence that he could do anything
for him. He just wanted him, for no explicitly or adequately, logically sound
reason.
If you want something, it's either because it would be useful or because you
like it. So if not for a concrete purpose, did that mean he somehow enjoyed the
presence of such a nuisance? That he wanted him for himself?
These are dangerous questions.
The warm brightness in the far corner of the room danced merrily, the very act
of its joy filling the empty and shadowed corners of his dilapidated room
harkened images of green in a barren wasteland and the sound of summer bells
filling an empty catacomb.
It was better the boy die, better, better, better, was it not? He was nothing
more than a biological bomb with a fuse of indiscernible length. Any day, with
a trigger no one could possibly know, the boy could explode into a monster far
more fearsome than any vampire or demon and annihilate every last human with
nary a whisper of opposition. And with the humans gone, it would only be a
matter of days before every vampire on the planet slowly lost their minds and
souls to madness, and then starvation.
Truly, every electrical node of his mind pieced together this equation and came
up with the only sensible solution: the boy must die.
In some ways, the candle’s obnoxious flaring and winking reminded him of
Yuuichirou. It felt like he was here, despite the foolishness of such whimsy.
He knew full well the boy wasn't going anywhere anymore.
Fingers dragged down his arm, and he felt a shock at their sudden presence
before he realized they were his own. There was a horrible, burning itch just
beneath the surface of his skin, like insects crawling through him in hordes,
their little feet scratching his flesh in trails. His entrails, his insides,
they all curdled like rotted milk, fetid and decayed like his entire existence,
perfectly matching the disgusting vermin that scuttled and wriggled between the
fibers of his muscles.
He scratched just a bit harder, feeling another chill, another itch.
They churned, and churned, and churned, the rot of his insides, threatening to
spill from his body when the insects inevitable escaped the cage of flesh
trapping them inside him, bursting through like putrid bile. Yuuichirou said it
was cold down here, in the underground. He’d never felt it until now.
But it was best, it was best. The boy was a danger to them all.
Mikaela’s breath seized.
If he spoke these thoughts to any other vampire, they would laugh in his face
at the absurdity. Yet here he was, a vampire designated for a position of power
amongst their kind, seriously pondering nonsense with the kind of deep
contemplation one should reserve only for strategies of war.
Was he truly so different from his peers? Well, it was what he wanted from the
very beginning, to never join their obscene gluttony and sadistic depravity.
But it was to the point even a human child could tell them apart and somehow
find him for the better.
What was left for him here, in a society where he didn't belong? Where he never
even wanted to belong and no longer had a place to be neatly slotted into?
The way the candle flickered, as if to beckon him, was so obnoxiously similar
to the boy’s pestering that he almost sent it an annoyed look.
But it flickered again, twice, thrice. He noticed the wax’s life had run to the
end, a small, short little thing. For enough time to have passed to have
reduced it to such a small size, it must be midnight.

He felt cold, and the room went dark before he realized that small little
warmth had finally been snuffed out.
Chapter End Notes
     And that's it! The end! No more!
     Thanks for sticking with me all this time! Whew, some ups and downs,
     but I got through my first multi-chaptered fic!! Man, special thanks
     for the commenters, who I will list RIGHT NOW. I'm serious when I
     said they keep me going! Special thanks to my chat support group,
     Cait, Sarah, Anna, Kitteh, Ara, Maqui, Zoey, Alex, Hanna and all the
     other millions of people that have supported this fic!!
     I especially want to thank Oxy, again, because she cannot be thanked
     enough!!
     I'm sure there will definitely not be any more! THANKS FOR READING!!
***** Lotus *****
Chapter Summary
     Mika finally stops acting like a little bitch. Ferid is a sneaky
     bitch. Krul is bitching out.
Chapter Notes
     I'm sorry but I'm also not sorry.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
The smell of smoke filling his nostrils, the taste of ash on his tongue, the
shrill cries pounding his ears.
These were the sensations that assaulted his senses with the ruthless fervor to
match the whirlwind of blade that was carving his way through the cold stone
corridors of the deepest levels of Sanguinem.
What was he doing? Has he gone insane?
To clarify the madness he’d been poisoned with, Mikaela was betraying his own
kind, abandoning any possibility of a future, and throwing away an entire
century, a lifetime, of efforts to mold himself into a role he admittedly never
wanted, but still threw his all into out of a sense of responsibility and duty.
What could possibly be at the end of this road that was any different or better
than the one he had just violently thrown himself from? To stay with the
vampires would have been to live as a directionless laughingstock, as nothing
more than a waste of blood. But to side with Yuuichirou? To take the one
creature capable of demolishing them all and chase after his shadow like some
sort of dog?
What could he possibly have to gain at a human’s side besides the scorn of his
human peers, the scorn of his vampire peers, and a lonely tombstone when his
fragile mortal body finally wilted?
Mikaela was looking at the entire world, humanity, vampires, all of it in it’s
entirety- in his left hand, and Yuuichirou in his right, and decided it was
perfectly logical to toss everything over his left shoulder. As if it were
perfectly logically for the scales to tip right.
But his body moved on its own. Logically, he knew that the gloved hand wielding
the sword that just cut through the nearest body was his own, but it didn't
feel so, strangely. He didn't know what to call it, but it almost felt like he
was watching someone else slaughter room after room, hall after hall. Like it
was someone else’s legs carrying them to parts unknown.
With every staircase taken down to the pit of Sanguinem’s underbelly, he found
more and increasingly skilled opposition. He was growing close, he must be.
To start, he didn’t know where, specifically, Yuuichirou was being kept. But he
could make an educated guess. The science labs were stationed in the lowest
sub-basements, and it would only be logical a subject so dangerous be kept in a
lab at the very bottom and drowned in a veritable swarm of guards.

So Mikaela swung his sword. He stabbed, and he slashed, and he skewered every
single nameless sack of meat he came across until the halls behind him were
awash with red and dusted with the ashes of the fallen. The slaughter was
almost comfortingly mindless, an ironic calm in the eye of his own storm of
confused, turbulent emotions.
He didn't suspect himself to be this powerful, to so easily cut a swath through
Sanguinem’s forces, tearing them apart like the little limbs off of small
insects. He supposed he should have known better. Who had spent countless years
training the very men he was currently cutting through like he was skewering
brittle paper? Who had spent every waking moment of his life honing his combat
skills with discipline and training, while the rest of them lazed about and
gorged themselves like pigs?
Further in his favor was the fact that he already knew how a majority of these
guards fought, had instructed them himself, and routinely kicked them around
the field of his arena with all the effort of brushing aside pebbles.
And who was the progeny of the strongest vampire in the city, the one destined
to inherit her level of power through the ties of blood?
That was another question to consider altogether. Has he already ascended to
his potential? Become a match for the queen herself? True, there were several
times in the past month where he lashed out against Bathory out of anger, but
he wasn’t trying to seriously fight.
Regardless, he would not like to test it. Not today.
Panicked shouts greeted his relentless sweep of the deepground labs; Mikaela
wouldn’t normally waste his time to go out of his way to squish every little
ant he could, especially when he already had a sound idea of where his
objective might be located and time was a precious resource stretched thin and
taut. However, he absolutely could not risk even a single guard, technician, or
specialist escaping past him and alerting the upper guard of his betrayal, and
usher forth reinforcements that would likely overwhelm him, regardless of his
relative power. For security reasons, there was only one way in or out of these
confidential labs, and it was through Mikaela.
The possibility of someone using a form of remote communication to contact the
upper levels wasn’t even a concern, since the labs were a secretive complex.
With the likes of Bathory in Sanguinem, spying and conspiracy was a valid
concern. To prevent tapping, magical or otherwise, these lower floors had a
policy of absolute radio silence. What rogue would be stupid enough, or even
powerful enough, to attack twelve floors of vampires anyways?
So, to reiterate, the only way they were getting rescued was through Mikaela.
He picked up his already furious, relentless pace; the occupants of the floors
further down must have heard the screams and commotion of the ones he’d cleared
out, which would prompt those operating on Yuuichirou to work even faster.
Thanks to his stalling, he already had little time to work with to begin with,
if the boy was even alive at all.
Krul said the boy would die by midnight, and he couldn’t even decide whether or
not his bizarre and inexplicable attachment to a boy he’d met barely over a
month ago was strong enough to forfeit his entire life for.
It naturally was, in the end, considering his life wasn’t worth anything at all
anymore, and wasn’t worth much to begin with.
He’d never had business in these labs, but he knew there were twelve in all,
and he was finishing up carving his way through number eleven and descending
the stairs, leaving bloodstained and ashen trails to follow his warpath.
Yuuichirou mustbe on this bottom floor, that much is for certain. It’s only a
question of which room; while logic would dictate his room be the one farthest
from the stairs, he would not take the chance of missing him on the slimmest
possibility that he wasn't farthest from the exit, or of a little worm
squirming past him. Mikaela will comb through each corner of the final floor
with the fine point of his blade.
Several times while he was in a room, skewering a vampire with a face he
recognized and a name almost in his grasp, others tried to escape while his
back was turned. They were swiftly met with the tip of his sword, piercing them
through and pinning them to the wall like papers on a corkboard. They were in
an animalistic panic and could never be fast or covert enough to escape his
keen hearing. They weren’t reconnaissance agents, not with those elephant
footsteps.
The opposition he encountered on this final floor fought like cornered animals,
doing every reckless, foolhardy thing they could to stop his one-man massacre
with the desperate stupidity of Mikaela’s choice to even do this on the one-to-
one-million chance the boy was even alive.
One vampire even tore a chunk of his cheek clean off his face so his ally could
aim a brutal strike through his heart. It was the only moment through his
entire slaughter of over forty vampires that he felt his life was under threat.
But they’d both underestimated his reflexes, and he’d grown used to opponents
doing unexpected things in combat; there was no counting the number of
absurdities and desperate moves elder vampires had done in his arena in a
hopeless bid to save face, to not lose to the upstart whelp.
He simply grabbed the head of the vampire that bit him, fisting a handful of
black hair, and shoved him in the path of the other’s blade. It was a
convenient shield. He was penetrated through the eye and her sword was stuck
inside. Mikaela threw the injured vampire’s thrashing, screaming body into the
farthest wall. With her weapon still lodged inside, it was wrenched from her
grasp and left her defenseless to the blonde’s counterattack, plunging his own
sword cleanly to the right of her heart. He gripped the hilt and sheared to the
side, completely sundering her heart in two and slicing a chunk from her body.
While she screamed obscenities with the most agonized, shrill voice even as her
body crumbled into ash, he calmly approached the other’s writhing, worm-like
form and ended his life by crushing his mutilated head in much the same manner
one did insects. Smoke billowed up from below, signalling his death.
Keep hurting them until they run out of the energy to heal, or destroy the head
or the heart. Completely destroy; one bullet or a couple stab wounds was not
going to be enough. Besides the sunlight, any one of those three could kill a
vampire. Obviously, Mikaela didn’t have time for the first option.
Which brings him to this final door, through which his sensitive ears could
perceive panicked shouts of increasing terror, and about four sets of feet
scurrying back and forth across the room. They most likely were alerted the
moment he breached the science labs, and felt the hopeless dread as he came
closer and closer to their position. The specialists inside had to know he was
right outside their door.
There wasn’t much time to waste. He calmly turned the knob and opened the door,
feeling the entire room freeze at the sight of him silently standing in the
doorway, stained with ash and blood like a specter that walked only the realms
of nightmares.
An overhead light cast shadows over closed tube in the middle of the room,
almost resembling a casket if it wasn’t for the various tubes and wires
sticking out from it. He couldn’t see through the glass panels from here, but
that had to be Yuuichirou inside.
“M-Mikaela-” One of them managed to stutter, once she plucked up the courage to
gibber a plea to appeal to whatever was left of his sanity. He cut her begging
off with the tip of his sword and a barrage of jabs into her head, pureeing it
into an ugly mush. Her limp body fell to the ground with a wet impact;
finishing her off was a matter simple as stepping on what was left of her head
while he picked one of the remaining three for a job he suspected needed doing.
Their appeals to whatever sense he had inside fell on deaf ears. Unfortunately,
there wasn’t any left inside, not when he going to do the kind of madness that
could only possibly come from fiction, like a particularly absurd play or a
lunatic’s midnight ramblings. Instead of begging for their lives like no-doubt
countless humans have done for them, they would be better served trying to
complete their task as fast as possible. Two were standing right beside each
other.
That makes things convenient.
In a blur of ashen white and red that kicked up the kind of gust that had their
hair whipping around their faces and their eyes stinging, Mikaela disappeared
from sight and reappeared right before the two standing so conveniently close.
Their mouths were dropped open into cavernous, gaping holes, while their faces
drained of color. Blood dribbled from their lips and a wet squelch below them
brought two sets of wide red eyes downwards.
His hands were plunged into their chests, wrapped around their hearts with the
cruel grip of a constrictor.
“P-p-please Mikaela- not that- I-” the male around his right hand gibbered
hysterically. Their assailant could wrench his hands from their bodies at any
moment, and they would know the agony of their souls irreparably warping into
demons.
But that would just create more problems. “Very well.” He said, and squeezed.
Their internal organs crushed beneath his grip like overripe fruits.
Two more bodies joined the first in a cloud of dust, leaving a final female
vampire trying to edge around him and sneak for the door. The metallic sing of
metal was her only warning before he drew his sword and chopped off her head.
He caught her by the platinum strands while her body fell with a loud thump,
reminding him of sacks of flour. He kicked it away for good measure, and the
rest of her flew into an opposite cabinet with the sounds of bone crunching and
glass shattering. The shelves collapsed and clattered on top and buried it
beneath a mess of wood and smashed science equipment.
After all, her head was severed, not destroyed, so she was very much still
alive. But as long as she didn't roll herself back to her body, he had nothing
to worry about from her. So he loosened his grasp around her hair and let her
head fall gracelessly to the floor. He wanted to survey his charge without
having to worry over her getting bright ideas. The ear-piercing shrieking was
irritating, but handling his captive for over a month gave him a special,
finely-honed skill in ignoring angry screaming.
Encased in a tube of reinforced glass and laid in a bed of countless wires, was
an apparently-unconscious Yuuichirou. He was stripped, and various bruises
lined his thin body in shapes that suggested restraints that were too tight and
hands that gripped him too hard. The bruising on his face and around his neck,
along with the wounds that could only be shaped by intentional strikes, must
have been from the ‘interrogation’ Krul mentioned.
But he knew how far cruelty reached with his kind. If he were the usual victim
of torture at the hands of a vampire, his body would be unrecognizable, barely-
living pulp, at best. They must have held back their brutality out of fear that
the boy’s seraph would unleash if he was pushed too hard. But that only meant
that they found other ways to torment him for answers, besides physical injury.
The strongest likelihood was waterboarding.
Yuuichirou got off lightly, but... even this was too much. That’s right. This
made a deep pit inside of Mikaela burned hotly, angry at the thought of others
laying a hand on him. Now that he wasn’t fleeing from the sudden and
intimidating changes in himself, it was easier to figure them out. Just a
little.
But regardless of his anger, it happened because of him, because he was a damn
fool that couldn’t make up his own mind.  If he hadn’t spent all his time
running, maybe he could have retrieved Yuuichirou before he had to suffer this.
What he’s doing now is admittedly stupid, but at least it’s a choice he made
and a clearly-defined objective he is committed to achieving. He had very
little idea in terms of long-term plans, but for now, a path is clearly paved
before him in the forefront of his mind. It’s comforting to be on rail tracks
again.
Holding onto his self-reflection would be wise, for now. At least until they’ve
made it out. He’ll have plenty of time to think on things later when he’s alone
against the world with no one on his side but a human child.
He rapped on the glass with his back knuckles. Considering what a dangerous
experiment they were working with, there was no chance he could simply break
through. Still, he tried anyways, and was not surprised when it didn’t even
crack beneath his fist.
Mikaela bent down and picked up the vampire’s head by the silky blonde strands
of hair. “Tell me how you unlock the glass.” he brought her eyes level to his
so he could narrow them at her.
“N-No.” she said, defying all human anatomy with her ability to speak despite
missing over half the internal mechanisms required to do so. She must have
thought herself impressive, staring so defiantly at the man who just finished
slaughtering dozens of vampires on the way down like he was trampling ants.

“Do you not see my sleeves?” he said. To his elbows, the snow-white fabric of
his uniform was dyed completely red, as dipped into buckets of blood, to say
nothing of the various spatters and splatters across his chest, his collar,
even his boots and trousers. More than that, the chilling tell-tale ash caking
his form spoke of the slaughter he’d just committed on his way here with the
nonchalance of a casual stroll.
“I’ve killed all of the men and women in the labs before they could escape and
alert the upper guard. Your labs’ lack of remote communication is quite the
technical oversight.” It’s because they’ve all grown complacent, taking
absolute dominion over the planet for almost a decade. “And I’ll kill you just
as easily, unless you give me what I want.”

“Then kill me! Either way, you won’t be getting getting the way into that tank!
That thing needs to die!”
“So what you’re saying is, I can kill you now, or you can tell me the way into
the glass, the harbinger of the apocalypse will be released, and you can die
later? And yet you insist on the former, despite the latter giving you more
time to enjoy your various vices?” He asked, voice entirely unimpressed.
“You’re clearly not the brightest among us, are you? I wonder how you even got
a position like this.”
She colored a brilliant red from sheer rage; her pride must have been just as
bruised as Yuuichirou. Her curses and shrill shrieking redoubled, and it was
giving him a bit of a headache, so he reared back his hand and slapped her
across the face.

Her voice, once making a never-ending stream of sounds that starkly reminded
him of an off-key orchestra in fortissimo and Yuuichirou screaming and running
his nails across a chalkboard simultaneously, went blessedly silent.
Mikaela set her head down on the silver table next to the boy’s pseudo-casket,
where he could see the most delightful spread of various tools. Things like
scalpels, forceps, and even a little miniature drill. Her face quickly went
from stupid shock to the kind of primal terror he normally saw on the helpless
livestock children right before a vampire claimed them to be their
entertainment for the night.
“These tools are rather new to me, and this isn’t the kind of skillset I’ve
built under my belt, but I can improvise and learn on the fly quite well.” he
held up one of the little blades overhead, pretending to inspect the edge.
Light glared off the shiny metal in a way he supposed would be menacing,
depending on who was going to be holding it and who was going to be receiving
it. “Which eye do you want me to pluck out first? Or would you rather I peel
you like a fruit?”
He had a particular distaste for mindless sadism, but thinking about Yuuichirou
on the receiving end of these tools filled him with the right anger for the
job, and, more importantly, the right motivation.
 
===============================================================================
 
All in all, retrieving Yuuichirou was easier than he expected it to be. His
boots squelched in the leftover mush of grey matter and countless tongues,
patches of skin, ears, and eyes on the floor. Organs and things ripped away
from the vampire, before Mikaela watched her regrow new ones for him to find a
new way to take again. There had to be at least three sets of eyes and two
head’s worth of skin lying about. Vampires can leave remains on certain
conditions. The little “extras” of the body like blood, and torn away bits and
bobs, are left behind if the vampire is allowed to regenerate replacements.
Meaning all these parts he’d ripped off, excluding the actual body, were still
littering the floor.
He bent down and scooped Yuuichirou into his filthy arms. He looked tiny, naked
in his arms, and didn’t so much as twitch when he took him out, even as various
needles were pulled from his flesh and he was lifted from his metal casket. In
fact, if it weren’t for the low, steady heartbeat his ears could pick out when
he concentrated, Mikaela would have assumed him dead.
The sight of the little bumps forming on his flesh struck him with the reminder
that the underground city was cold to humans. It was a simple and quick matter
to undo his soiled overcoat and wrap the unresponsive boy tightly.
Conscious or not, they absolutely could not linger here for a second longer. He
had to have wasted thirty-five minutes of precious time pulling answers from
the vampire like he pulled her teeth. It worried him that Yuuichirou had yet to
wake up, but he was most likely sedated for the operation. All he could do was
hope that to be the case.
He spared a glance to the area around him and pondered a choice laid out before
him. Did he try to make up for as much time lost as possible to get the boy
out, or did he stay for just four minutes longer to clean up?
Well, there wasn’t much point to escaping if they could track them down later
with magic and blood samples they might be carrying, and the explosions might
even help distract the city so they could make their escape.
Each lab on each floor carried oxygen tanks for the various subjects that would
be locked up in the tubes. Taking care of his mess would be a simple matter of
cranking the tanks’ output to maximum and setting a candle inside. They would
do the work for them. He just had to work fast, before the tubes’ atmosphere
turned to pure oxygen. Otherwise the would get caught up in the results and the
only benefit they’d receive is alerting the entire city of their location.
He’d sabotaged ten of the twelve tanks before he had to hope it would be enough
and left as a blur. From behind, he could hear confused guards calling out, but
lacking the urgency that would indicate they suspected him of something. They
really were complacent down here, comfortable with eight years of unchallenged
dominance.
Mikaela had jumped to the rooftops when fifty seconds passed and the ground
rocked beneath his feet. The sound of earth sundering screamed in his ears,
echoing through the rock walls of Sanguinem; about ten floors’ worth of
explosives set off, collapsing the labs below. He was halfway to the planned
exit, enough distance between himself and the site to seemingly make the spur-
of-the-moment ploy worth it.
Staying out of sight would be the smartest solution, and the rooftops would
probably be better for it. He might be spotted at a distance, but that would be
better than running head-on into another vampire. While there was no evidence
obviously linking him to the sub-basement explosions, there would be questions
plentiful as to why the captain was running in the opposite direction instead
of investigating the incident, as well as his state of dress and the boy on his
back. He was unavoidably suspicious-looking.
Luck was on his side, for once. No one spotted him on the mad dash back into
the castle, presumably because the area had been cleared away by Krul not too
long ago. The only vampires here were the ones going to alert the queen of the
emergency situation, but with her confidence that he was guarding the exit, she
wouldn’t go back to the throne room. She’d go straight to site herself,
especially with such a critical project on the line. Though, in hindsight, he
didn’t know what she expected him to do against a rampaging seraph on his own,
besides pointlessly die.
Since the castle was so empty, it was made even easier to listen for
approaching footsteps until he reached the double doors of the throne room. The
kind of ease that made him suspicious of his good fortune, which had a way of
balancing itself back to it’s two-to-one ratio in the most inconvenient ways at
the most inconvenient times.
He crossed the lavish room, Yuuichirou still securely in his arms and
internally amazed at how such a spontaneous, half-baked, impulsive plan worked
so easily. It was actually disgraceful, on the city guard’s part.
‘This is exactly why I set up that arena.’ he thought irritably. Yes, their
incompetence was what made it so easy to raid the lower labs and escape with
Yuuichirou without a single bump in the ride, but he couldn’t stamp out the
swell of indignation and displeasure at what could only be described as years
of wasted time trying to keep those useless oafs whipped into something useful.
It would be wise to just be grateful that they could get out of here, but it
was a bit hard to be when he poured all that training into hollow gourds with
holes in the bottom, perfect for all his lessons to go in one and out the
other. They were no better than their supposed dull livestock, fattened up like
pigs and dimwitted with contented gluttony. It was stupid, but he was actually
starting to get a bit angryat how easy this all was-
“Mikaela-a.” a voice sang in the cheeriest voice he’d ever heard, joyfully
stretching out the last sound of his name.
Derʹmó.
Please, please, no. He took it all back. Let this be simple and easy again;
he’ll never turn down a blessing like that again if whatever force that spun
the universe just plucked the source of that voice away and threw him off the
face of the planet.
But of course, he would probably just annoy that force into a grave. “Bathory.”
he said, voice set hard like a bedrock of his hatred for the scheming little
rodent.
The silver haired noble emerged from behind the large, lavish, glorified chair
known as Krul’s throne, standing squarely between himself and the hidden
stairway. And going by the gleeful smirk on the man’s face, it was no accident.
“Where are you off to in such a hurry? Oh my,” the man-shaped annoyance
giggled,setting Mikaela’s skin to a crawl, “you’re just a mess! And what’s that
cute little thing in your arms?”
“Out of my way, Bathory.”
He tutted, shaking his head like he was locked into a hopeless argument with a
particularly stubborn child. “You’re so cold!” he sighed, putting his hands to
his hips and sauntering around the throne. “But I’m really just here to ask one
itty-bitty question. Honest! Cross my innocent little heart!"
...Did he expect a reaction other than Mikaela's continued suspicious glaring?
But the other noble just kept up that same, infuriatingly chipper smile, wholly
unaffected by the weight of the blonde's pointed gaze. "What time did the queen
tell you the boy would be dead by?”
“I- what?” that hadn’t been what he was expecting. If Bathory really was going
to ask a question, he would have thought it would be one aimed at taunting the
attachment to the boy he'd spent so long and hard denying. Was he actually
going to ask about the queen?
“What time did the queen tell you the boy would be dead by?” he repeated, smile
as smooth and falsely affable as ever.
“...Midnight.” he answered, suspiciously, hesitantly. Mikaela had a newfound
confidence in his power, but he wasn’t sure he could defeat Bathory and protect
Yuuichirou at the same time, so it would be better to try to play the situation
smartly. “Shouldn’t your scheming little brain know that-”
He never got to finish that sentence, because the other vampire opened his
mouth wide and laughed. He laughed, laughed, laughed, like he’d somehow grown a
sense of humor that wasn’t twisted beyond the recognition of humor and Mikaela
had grown one at all. His head was bent back, hands across his stomach, all the
works of a hyperbolized laugh. “Oh, I knew it! I knew it! It all fits together,
just like that! All of it!”
His laughter grated together even worse than that female vampire’s angry
screaming and Mikaela had half a mind to stab him anyways, before the stain on
the world decided he’d had enough of making his eardrums want to kill
themselves. “Well, that’s all I wanted to know.” Bathory said, catching his
breath and brushing a stray hair from his forehead, slowly stalking closer.
This wouldn't be good. Protecting Yuuichirou in the midst of their battle would
be a task in itself, and the sneaky, festering postal before him would have no
qualms going for the boy to get in a cheap shot. The blonde hunkered down,
raising his sword in warning and trying to maneuver his charge into a more
secure position in his arms, until the other male was within perfect stabbing
distance. His body coiled and tensed like a cat bristling and raising its
haunches, and-
And then Bathory walked right past him, with nothing more than a salacious
smile and a shrug raised in a casual, careless manner. “Go on. I suppose I
myself am interested to see the possibilities of the seraph. You should hurry,
however. Our lovely queen is on her way here, and I doubt she’s going to be
very happy.” What was he playing at? There wasn’t a mouse’s chance in a room of
cats that Bathory could ever stand against the queen for longer than said
mouse. It was just impossible that he was simply going to let them go. What did
he have to gain from this?
There’s no feasible way he was just doing this for entertainment. What
entertainment could there be to have if the queen was just going to rip him
apart seconds after Mikaela fled? The whole point of entertainment was to watch
it; he couldn’t see the amusements if he was dead.
Bathory has something else to gain from this, but he didn’t have the time to
puzzle it out. Not when Krul just now burst through the doors, red eyes set to
such a heated, furious blaze it was a wonder she didn’t spontaneously melt the
immediate surrounding area.
It was only on the word of his instinct, but he took it back. The very idea
that he was a match for her at this stage in his life was such a bad joke it
could actually draw some laughs- at the teller’s stupidity, not at the humor.
He thought he would be a match for her? Because he squashed a handful of
insects? What arrogance. That was just the big fish in the little pond talking.
He might be able to stand toe-to-toe against Bathory right now, but he’s
another hundred years too early to be talking up his prowess against his
progenitor.
The newly-humbled progeny wouldn’t turn up his nose at another blessing. He
turned with a swish of his white cape and bolted as fast as he could, the
sounds of stone shattering and flesh sundering hastening his flight.
 
===============================================================================
 
“Ahh, and they’re gone.” Bathory sighed whimsically, as if they were watching a
bird leaving the nest for the first time, and not the heir to a seat in the
progenitor’s council make off with the catalyst for the apocalypse.
Her foot connected with his back before he could even register the atmosphere
shift around him from quiet desolation to boiling, all-consuming fury. The
satisfying cracking sound of bone snapping beneath her foot was almost the most
satisfying thing to happen tonight. “You, of all people, do not have the luxury
of levity.” she spat, watching the crumpled form twitch on the ground.
The younger vampire laughed lightly, picking himself off the ground as her ears
caught the muffled sounds of bones knitting back together. “Why must you single
me out for the blame? Such a beautiful queen, and yet so cruel…” he stood to
his feet, holding out his hands in a helpless gesture. “Of course I alone could
not defeat our sweet prince! He is your progeny, after all, gifted through
bloodlines strength comparable to yours. To say I could defeat him all by my
lonesome is to suggest the blasphemy that I could defeat you-”

He was cut off by another kick lashing out with the bite and cruelty of a whip
on the side of his neck. The brief seconds of her strike were brought to a
crawl by her keen vampiric perception and allowed her to see every second in
the detail of an hour’s viewing. She saw, slowly, his neck crunch beneath her
toe, his head loll to an unnatural angle, and the most satisfactory expression
of wide-eyed shock. Bathory’s limp body flew into the opposite wall, crashing
into stone and gouging out chunks of rock with his landing. “You talk too
much.” she said, frostily, hand on her hip. “You and I both know he’s too young
to have already come to the full potential of his power, so you can quit your
annoying theatrics.”
“I simply speak the truth as always, my queen.” he stood, his head flopping
onto his shoulder like a flower drooping on a bent stem. His vague air of
amusement and humor didn’t dissipate, and it only made her hackles rise higher.
For him to be so confident despite standing in his position meant that he had
cards up his sleeve to play.
She snorted with all the venom in her body. “Oh? You mean you’ve finally cured
your chronic, pathological lying? Good. You can show off your newfound health
before the progenitor council, when you explain how you let the prisoner and
the traitor go.”
Bathory held his head up with both hands while his natural healing set the
shattered bones of his neck back into place. “Of course, of course!” he said,
cheerfully, and it only confirmed what she already knew. He was scheming some
kind of game, and he wasn’t yet on the losing side. “I shall also tell them
what I know about you.”
Krul’s eyes narrowed, the picture of the annoyed, unamused displeasure only an
adult stuck with dealing with a particularly bratty child can make. “You mean
other than that I’ve been stuck with the most annoying, loathsome schemer of
our kind?” her snark hid that she was growing wary of his continued confidence.
Every single shred of evidence stacked against Bathory that he was here while
the prisoner and the traitor Mikaela escaped, and he didn’t lift a finger to
stop them. His uniform was pristine when she found him, and there was not a
single sign of struggle in the room.
He would be charged with treason and pinned for their escape; Krul would rip
all four of her limbs off to see it happen.
But the silver-haired little bastard only laughed again, light, airy, amused,
and sickening. “I don’t think there’s a single vampire that doesn’t already
know that.” His tone was nothing but pleasant, as if they were merely friendly
acquaintances exchanging jokes in an opera house. “No, my queen, I simply
wanted to inform them of your treason.”
A cold sensation washed over her as if she’d been tossed into a pool of ice,
but she kept her expression dignified over the roaring in her ears. “Oh? Tell
me your nonsense then, Bathory. It should be good for a laugh, at least.” she
had to know what he knew if she was going to pull the plan off.
His smiled widened into an unpleasant slash across his face. “Eight years ago,
you told the progenitor council that you sent a party on an elimination
mission. But a little bird was kind enough to inform me that it was, in fact, a
capture mission.”

Krul could feel something inside of her- on its haunches, hissing, fur standing
straight up and backed into a corner, bristle further. “Is that all?” she said,
smirking down at his idiocy for the appearance of confidence, but they both
knew he was much smarter than this. He had something else, something more
substantial. “Of course I told the progenitors that I sent an elimination
party, because that was the ultimate goal anyways. First we would capture the
children, then dispose of them safely.”
“Oh, is that it? Silly me!” he put a hand on his face in an outright girlish
gesture of surprise. It was mocking, and she didn’t even resist the urge to
kick him across the room again for the pure, vindictive satisfaction.
While his body slid and skipped across the ground like a pebble thrown over a
lake, she let out an impatient breath. “If you’re just going to waste my time
with asinine jokes, I might as well kill you myself and do the world a favor.”
This time, getting kicked across the room like a child’s toy ball knocked his
silver hair free from its tie. It spilled around his shoulders in a messy
disarray while he once again picked his sorry, beaten body from the floor. “But
that would make you more suspicious, wouldn’t it? The only witness to a crime
committed by a dead man. You could say whatever you want and there would be no
evidence to contradict you. The council would see the convenience.”
“Then get to the point, before my patience runs out and I kill you just for the
therapy.” she snipped, arms crossing.
Bathory bowed with a mocking sort of grandiose showmanship. “My queen, allow me
to begin with a very necessary bit of information. One that will illuminate the
entirety of my findings.”

The only response she gave his theatrics was the sight of her eyes rolling.
Anything more would be giving his irritating behavior too much dignity.

“Mikaela is different from us.” he began with stating the obvious. Any one of
them could sense the inherent dissonance between their supposed future prince
and the rest of his kind, given enough time and attention. He wasn’t quite
human; he wasn’t quite vampire; he was someone that transcended from both camps
into something else entirely because of his odd sense of morality that didn’t
quite fit in anywhere but his own mind. He was simply Mikaela.
“His differences stick him out like a nail waiting to be hammered. It’s why,
even after a century and more, not a single vampire has opened themselves to
him beyond tolerance. He’s treated with an exceptionally wide berth by all but
a few of our most open-minded and easy-going individuals, like Marco and Renee.
After all, what kind of creature pretends to be a vampire and yet never
relishes the opportunity to savor fine, fresh blood? To slaughter helpless
humans like little piglets and succumb to the delectable aroma? Did you know
that, despite it being legal, he’s never taken advantage to drink blood from
the source while on the battlefield? It’s easy to see- blood tastes good to
him, but it doesn’t bring him joy and fulfill him like it should for one of
us.”
The other vampire loves nothing more than the sound of his own voice. Krul
genuinely suspected that he loved it more than blood itself. He continued,
heedless of his one-woman audience’s lack of enthusiasm. “And because he
doesn’t join us in our joy, he manages to pay attention to the suffering of our
livestock all the closer. He is, perhaps, the only vampire in existence capable
of even remotely sympathizing with humans.”
“Where are you going with this, Bathory?” the question was a pointless one.
From that little opening monologue, she already had a good idea of how far
along he’d caught on. The only question now is, had he connected her ploy to
its goal? Most likely. As much as she hated the bastard, there was no denying
his cunning.
“I’m getting to the reason you assigned Mikaela a mission, pulling his
protection from the human and forcing him to find a replacement. Why, oh why,
would our beautiful and brilliant queen do such a thing so foolish? She knew of
its fiery personality! She knew of her subjects’ typical impatience with
humans! It’s like she was just begging for the boy to get himself hurt, or
worse!”
And then his voice dropped into a stage whisper. “Because that’s exactly what
you wanted. You wanted that darling little angel to get himself beaten and
abused, because our cute prince is a responsible boy. He treats every little
order from you as if it were a commandment from God himself. It’s rather
adorable, truly. Like a well-trained dog.” The way he pranced about the room
sickened her so violently it was a wonder she didn’t wretch up her own internal
organs. Bathory glided about the room with the theatrics like he was in the
center-stage for a performance that had long outlived its entertainment and was
far too tone-deaf to realize the audience would prefer to cut their own eyes
out and eat them than spend another minute in their seats.
Should she just kill him now? As much as Krul wanted to see this smug little
snake burst into a cloud of ash like a popped pimple, he could still be useful
as an extra scapegoat. It all depends on how much he’s pieced together, and how
easily his evidence could be dismissed.
But still… this was a strong start. All true, so far.
Bathory twirled in place, hands curled close to his heart in a gesture that
poorly-imitated the emotional ache of heartstrings being tugged. “And knowing
his responsible nature, he would loathe himself for even the smallest of
failures, including selecting the wrong guard and indirectly causing harm to
the human. Mikaela would naturally want to compensate for the err in his
judgement. Do you see where I’m going with this now?” he questioned with his
red eyes crinkled into half-moons, endlessly amused by his laughably sorry
imitation of wit, throwing Krul’s own barbed questioned back like it made him
clever.
When she didn’t respond with anything besides a face that would normally only
be made on the occasion of having a plate of dog feces waved directly
underneath one’s nose, he took that as permission to continue as he liked. “You
wanted to instill feelings of sympathy, and knowing Mikaela’s personality, you
knew putting him in a situation in which he mustunderstand and care for the
human would foster a positive direction in their relationship. Getting the
human hurt, while it’s in a position where Mikaela must care for its health and
well-being, allowed the boy to be sympathized with and for Mikaela to change in
his eyes, from a threat to someone safe.”
Her progeny was something similar to a cloud, calmly floating through his life
with impeccably detached disinterest in everything and everyone around him,
sparing consideration only to the laws assigned to him by his creator. He could
never care about anything unless she told him to. Or anyone.
Because she gave him orders that would require a nurturing hand and
understanding, and because she trusted that he was dutiful enough to
wholeheartedly pursue his usual perfection and high standards, Mikaela would
naturally wind up caring very strongly for the boy’s well-being. He’d never
cared for anyone before, not even himself.
“From there, you kept pushing him to tighten his grip around his captive as
punishment for its frequent hell-raising. From its refusal to eat to its escape
attempt. You were careful not to outright order, but strongly encourage that he
act unkindly towards Yuuichirou by advising he treat it poorly, abusively.
Because the more Mikaela comes to acknowledge the boy as a creature worth
gentle consideration, what with his duty to care for it, the harder it would
make it to abuse him. He would come to doubt his own actions, possibly even
regret them, and since you didn’t outright order the abuse, he would be able to
stop whenever he wanted, guilt-free. Which would in turn win the human’s trust.
Naturally, if the boy were to trust him, its behavior towards him would change
into something more comfortable, friendlier, perhaps even enough to charm our
little ice prince. Get his infamous guard down.”
The things she told him were noticeably contradictory, if you sat down and
really thought about it. She ordered no harm come to the boy, that he be cared
for and kept alive and well, and yet turned around and advised Mikaela to abuse
him and humiliate him, even going so far as to suggest that sexual force was a
viable method for subjugation. Just one of the reasons the mission was so
difficult for her poor progeny.

The seventh progenitor’s lips curled, light puffs of air escaping in a
nobleman’s practiced chuckle. No doubt because he was endlessly entertained by
this entire debacle. “It’s a vicious cycle. The softer Mikaela’s hand gets, the
more the boy will endear towards him and charm him with its cuteness, which in
turn softens his hand further.”
Indeed. Because he was a pariah and a misfit, even among those that should
welcome him as one of their own and respect him as their future leader and a
competent member of their ranks, her son has lived these years with no love
lost for their race and certainly no attachments. Not even blood could bond
them into a pseudo mother-son relationship, at least on his part. He’s most
likely the only one amongst them capable of sympathizing with humans.
A human perceptive enough would take notice of it, and with its vulnerable
position in a veritable nest of vipers, cling to the only light that resembled
hope in this dark pit, no matter how much that light burned with an acerbic
tongue and flinty, chill demeanor. Krul can imagine that no one’s treated
Mikaela purely benevolently in his entire life- not even she can say that she
didn’t once regard him as nothing more than a pet project for her bored, idle
time.
With Yuuichirou in that vulnerable position, even the small, pathetic scraps of
kindness that Mikaela was barely capable of scrounging up would be enough to
charm the human into treating him benevolently. The blonde’s loneliness would
assure that the change in attitude would affect him greatly and eventually have
him craving more, even if unconsciously.
“ And youset this entire cycle into motion. You said you chose Mikaela because
he was the only one capable of watching a human without losing his temper and
accidentally killing him. I’d also like to add that you also chose him because
he’s the only one capable of seeing a human as anything more than an edible toy
to play with. You wanted them to foster a bond. It wouldn’t matter matter if it
were fragile and tentative; even something so flimsy would be more precious
than any gem, power, or blood to a sad, empty husk like Mikaela. Precious
enough to risk everything for.”
So this was his conclusion.
“Youwantedthem to escape together, and emotionally manipulated the both of them
into dancing in the palm of your pretty hand.” He ended with a dramatic
flourish, sweeping his arms out and fluttering the ends of his cape behind him.
His eyes glittered gleefully like a sadistic little child, especially with the
way his grin bared his fangs.
Damn it, he really did figure most of it out. All of her actions up to this
point were done to encourage Mikaela to bond with Yuuichirou, to the point
where he would pick the boy over his life here. It’s not like he had much to
give up anyways. Bathory was not inaccurate to describe him as an empty husk;
he was a little machine, operating only when a command was input.
To put it this way, if vampires only felt truly alive again when drinking
blood, then what would make the one that didn’t fill the void with blood feel
alive again? There was nothing else for their kind.
But like hell she would admit to it this early into their verbal battle.
“Why would I want that? Your accusation could only make sense if I’ve gone mad.
How could you possibly match a motive to this kind of absurdity? What would I
have to gain from unleashing a monster that could kill us all? The council will
not put any stock into your claims unless you can come up with one.” She wasn’t
entirely sure of that, and her position would be strongly questioned amongst
the other progenitors, but it wouldn’t be enough to call for an execution.
Without a motive to this madness, his accusations would only be perceived as
groundless conspiracies, and could easily be dismissed as Krul misunderstanding
the personality of her progeny as she commanded him. Irresponsible, but not
treasonous.
So let’s see if he’s made it to the end.
But by the flash of wicked, unadulterated euphoria that absolutely radiated
from the other noble, he’d been expecting- no- anticipating that question with
every atom of his being. Wonderful. “From the beginning, you never wanted the
boy dead. In fact, you did everything you could up to this point, from that
fateful day eight years ago, to preserve his life. That first mission after the
virus’ outbreak wasn’t an elimination mission, not when you just explained to
Mikaela that suddenly killing the experiments could result in the seraph’s
freedom. What a contradiction! One of those would have to be a lie.”
Bathory circled her throne, tapping his fingers along the edge of the backrest.
He was taking his sweet time to get to the point, relishing the spotlight like
the ultimate diva. “Actually, they’re both lies. That first mission was a
kidnapping assignment, most likely so you could set the children free on your
own terms once they were brought back to Sanguinem, or try to harbor them in
anonymity. And now, eight years later, you lied to the Council once word got
out that you captured darling Yuuichirou. You suggested to them the theory that
the seraph could possibly unleash upon its death, and worried them enough to
buy you some time. We both know the truth; of course it wouldn’t be set free.
Not when the other experimented children were slaughtered by a common vampire
four years ago, and our world is very much the same. You even lied to Mikaela,
telling him that the boy’s procedure would be done by midnight, when truly it
would be completed by sunup.”
The labs typically have a policy of radio silence, but at the operator’s
insistence she’d set up a magical communication link for the occasion. One that
she stoutly refused to answer despite the dozens of calls. But since secrecy
truly was preferred, she would’ve been there personally to oversee the actual
procedure, arriving for the moment where the seraph is ripped away from the
boy, at about two o’clock in the morning. She was damned lucky Mikaela actually
made up his mind in time. He was already late by the fake deadline she’d given
him- another ten minutes and she would have had to go downstairs to actually
kill Yuuichirou, and then her deal with the Hiiragi girl would’ve been bust.
The real question was: how did Bathory find the pieces to connect all of this
together? Just as she asked, she remembered his alliance with Auriel Crofton.
But even Crofton wouldn’t be enough to provide all of this information. He had
at least one other conspirator. “All of these are circumstantial.” she pursed
her lips after a moment of contemplative silence.
From the carefree shrug of Bathory’s shoulder, he wasn’t too concerned with her
dismissal. “But careless enough to warrant a punishment. Maybe even suspicious
enough to warrant your execution?” he teased, finger tapping his cheek.
She scoffed, “Big words coming from a proven traitor. You’ve admitted to spying
and conspiracy, what with you little stunt with convincing Auriel Crofton to
beat Yuuichirou against orders, and your unauthorized knowledge of sensitive
information that you couldn’t only know via snooping and spying. Not to mention
there’s my account that you were present for Mikaela’s escape through the back
entrance. Would the Council believe the accusations of such an obviously
suspicious slime?” It would be a dice roll in anyone’s favor. Bathory had built
himself a strong case with admittedly sound logical reasoning, despite the lack
of concrete evidence. The other progenitors would definitely take his
accusations very seriously.
It didn’t escape her notice that he failed to come up with an ultimate motive.
Why would she want to keep the seraph safe? But that didn’t matter. He’d
compiled enough circumstantial evidence that it all built up into a very large
and very suspicious pile that would have anyone scrutinizing her. If the
council were to find even a shred of evidence against her in their inevitable
investigation, that would be it for her.
Well, somewhat luckily, her doofy son got the bright idea to blow up the labs,
so at least there wouldn’t be any evidence of the specialists’ attempts to
contact her going ignored. One more thing she wouldn’t have to find an excuse
for. Her son was so sweet to her, she thought wryly.
“Would you risk that they would?” the seventh progenitor shot back, face
entirely too smug for her to stomach without the powerful urge to rip his arm
off and beat him with it.
Krul crossed her arms, pointedly staring him down. “Someone will have to answer
for this to the progenitor counsel.”

“Mikaela will take the fall entirely, if we keep our mouths shut together and
get a little creative with combining our testimonies. Oh my! Looks like we’re
partners in crime?”
She only allowed him to continued as he did, poking his nose into everything,
because she thought he was still trying to figure out Yuuichirou’s
significance, and after that, trying to sate his curiosity on the seraph. Like
Crofton. The fact that his pestering helped her plan so much made her think it
was unintentional, because he seemed like he was trying to sabotage it.
But he’d been watching her moves the entire time, possibly for years, gathering
the evidence he’d need and prodding her game along, in his own way. Staking a
political bid that they both knew was going to go nowhere, just to rile up
Mikaela, taunting him with the promises to steal the boy away to make him
realize his urges to keep him, Bathory wanted Yuuichirou spared just as much as
Krul, because her plan succeeding would only enable his own and provide
everything he’d need to trap her. He was always hovering on the outside, like a
little fly, an annoying but ultimately-ineffectual pest that she thought only
needed a good swatting.
He… helped her win her game but still ended up being the winner that took all.
Another wave of fury surged from deep within at the knowledge of how soundly
she’d been cornered. She couldn’t even kill him right now, not when it would
paint her in so much suspicion. And knowing the slimy, slippery little snake,
he’d be careful to stay out of her path for a long time, just to make sure she
wouldn’t have the opportunity to murder him and make sure he vanished without a
trace. “Mark my words Bathory. When the first opportunity comes, I’m going to
enjoy ripping out your entrails piece by piece, and then feeding them to you. I
might even shove your own arm up your ass. Look forward to it, because that day
will come.” she spat, eyes promising borderline-biblical violence.

But he only smiled his sweetest smile. It made her want to rip his lips off.
“Shall we make the call?” he said with courtly gallantry.
Chapter End Notes
     TROLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOL-
     //dodges various pointy objects and a well-placed Fus Ro Dah.
     I ‘M SO SORRY.
     But friends in my social circle, commenters, and people in the
     community were beginning to predict what the outcome of this was
     going to be. And that's no fun at all. It takes the suspense out of
     the moment both for the reader, and significantly downplays and
     waters-down the tension of the final moments before Mika's stupid ass
     finally stopped hiding from his feelings. Because the entire time,
     just as Mika was envisioning an entire lifetime without any semblance
     of the warmth he felt with Yuuichirou, I wanted my readers to
     identify with his pain by experiencing this fic ending with a
     forever-dead Yuu. How could any of you experience Mika's pain for
     yourselves if you're just giggling to yourselves the entire time
     because we all KNOW Mika's gonna save Yuu in the end anyways?
     Plus it was just funny as hell. (At first, anyways... then I got all
     those sweet messages and felt just a little terrible.)
     Okay so the fact that I totally punked all of you aside, this was
     seriously where I originally envisioned GoH ending. Buuut...
     something occurred to me, back in January. Is it really an ending?
     Mika's feelings aren't really confronted or recognized, the question
     of their relationship isn't really resolved on either side, etc. The
     story, and more importantly, the characterization, would feel
     somewhat incomplete to stop here, wouldn't it? So there’s gonna be a
     few more chapters, I can’t say for sure. I have a few disconnected
     scenes in mind, but for now I can say this will definitely be all by
     the seat of my pants.
     OR MAYBE IM JUST PUNKING YOU ALL AGAIN
     HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA. MAYBE I'LL KILL THEM BOTH FOR
     REAL NEXT CHAPTER? WHO KNOWS HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!!
     … I’M SO sorrY kjsndfgl I predicted people would be upset and angry,
     but I didn’t expect THE DEVASTATION SOME PEOPLE COMMENTED LAST
     CHAPTER HOLY GOD. By the first devastated comment I was like “MY GOD
     WHAT HAVE I DONE” BUT AT THE SAME TIME I WAS STILL LAUGHING??? I was
     laughing evilly even as I was profusely apologizing and making
     genuine pitying sounds- I’m so sorry you guys like the fic of such an
     asshole ahsjdkf especially since some of you left the sweetest
     messages to me I've ever read.
     I have to go to school right now, so I can't respond to them, but
     I'll get to it once my classes are over.
***** Purple Iris *****
Chapter Summary
     Mikaela came this () close to feeding Yuuichirou cat food.
Chapter Notes
     Sorry, but not much exciting happens in this chapter. That said, I
     find it necessary because I want to set up Yuu's and Mika's Journey
     to the East. I wanted to continue it a little more, but I found a
     good place to stop and I wasn't sure when the next good stopping
     point was coming.
     .............I have no excuses for the delay either. None. Nada.
     Zilch. As always, thanks so much for the readers that always come
     back, even after the long gaps between chapters. I can't make any
     promises, but I'll try to do better. I am getting more excited to see
     Yuu again!
See the end of the chapter for more notes
He fled up the staircase beyond the hidden door behind Krul’s throne with the
sound of hellhounds snapping at his heels, though logically, he knew that to be
nothing more than his own paranoia driving his mind into a worried panic.
However, it was not like the queen’s fury was incomparable to a hellhound.
The cargo in his arms, light, small, and yet heavier than anything he’s carried
in his life, felt like the air to his body, but weighed on his mind like lead.
Footsteps thundered into the very air around him, echoing off the stone walls
of the passage like disembodied voices of the damned. Pursuers, stomping their
way up the stone stairway behind Mikaela; it was his stark reminder that this
was the furthest from the appropriate time to let his mind wander. It wouldn't
do for these errant thoughts to distract him.
He’d made his choice. It was a nonsensical one, an impulsive, half-baked joke
of a decision so far removed from what he understood to be his character that
he would have to reflect on it later, certainly, but now was not the time.
Focus, prioritize, compartmentalize- put away the things unnecessary and form
the route in the map of your mind. Set your sights on the objectives.
The higher he ascended towards the surface, the more his nose caught the scents
of moist forest and crisp winter air. Light- a faint, soft glow, peeked
demurely through what could only be the exit. After all, tonight was the full
moon.
They burst through the earth’s maw and into the open night. He wasted no time
to draw his sword with his free hand and circle the perimeter in a white blur.
Around him, thick, naked trees groaned as they collapsed over the top of the
entrance. Another glance to his surroundings made it clear he wasn’t done yet.
The entrance to the staircase that he just flew from like a bat out of hell was
situated on a hill, and up that hill was a sizeable boulder, held in place only
by the various collapsed trees it no doubt knocked over on its way down. It was
a simple matter to quickly set his… his charge down and shove the enormous
sphere of stone into the lip of the earth. The trees he’d knocked on top of it
crunched beneath the weight of rock and further stuffed the exit shut.
It was not possible that this could stop them, but if there wasn’t a progenitor
among them it would at least slow down their pursuit. So it would be best to
use this bought time as wisely as possible.
Yuuichirou was quickly settled back into his arms and Mikaela gave himself
approximately four precious seconds to make a plan to follow while the boy was
still unconscious.
It was not a question in his mind that their hunters would fully expect him to
go east, towards Tokyo. Along the way would be various cities and towns with
the resources to provide for the human and plenty of nooks and crannies to hide
in. South would take them into the Nara prefecture, but the eastern bodies of
water would only force them to circle back north to go to Tokyo anyways. To the
north of their current location was Lake Biwa, and with it, a host of nature
reserves, hiking trails, and camping sites. Which meant little-to-no shelter
for Yuuichirou’s fragile human physique and less readily-available resources.
For example, there were no clothing stores to offer him a bit more insulation
and, rather than foraging for preserved foods in a city, Mikaela would have to
find things for the boy to eat from nature’s bounty, and he would be more than
likely to feed him something poisonous. Of course, he could easily snatch up an
animal for him, but…
...Mikaela didn’t know how to start a fire to cook it. It’s not like he ever
needed something like that anyways, so why would he know?
Well, regardless, that would logically make it best for them to go west. It was
the exact opposite of what they would expect and was more populated than the
north. It would be a good enough plan, if only until the boy woke up, but-
But what if he never woke-
No. He wouldn’t let those kind of pessimistic thoughts distract him from
decisive and logical action. If the worst came to pass, it would still be
Mikaela’s duty to deliver him back to his home, to the “family” he talked
about. It’s what he would want. He shoved away the darker whispers of what he
would do with himself afterwards to focus on the logic that, awake or not,
Yuuichirou would want to go back to Tokyo.
East is what the boy would have them do, but there would be no point in
charging through the minefield that would be the eastern side of Kyoto for the
next few days when they could safely avoid the bulk of the search. Outrunning
them would be hard when concessions of time would have to be made for
Yuuichirou’s human needs, but staying quiet and sneaking through the cracks of
their widened search net would be easy.
West. For now, they’ll go west.

He took off without a second of further deliberation over the question of which
direction to take, his body responding to his thoughts even faster than his own
mind ever could.
As his legs coiled and pushed onward until the trees and winter nature around
him blended into an earthy mixture of greens and browns, Mikaela further
planned for the future. How far should he go? And how long should he keep up
this speed? Without a car, he could very well reach the northern edge of the
Hyogo prefecture by early evening. With the current hour nearing one o’clock in
the morning that would be a fifteen-hour trip, but only if he continued his
pace at this maximum output.
Except… in his haste to rescue Yuuichirou, he made no time to stop for blood.
He wasn’t thirsty now, but it was the future that he was concerned about. The
more energy he expended, be it running and fighting horsemen or vampires,
walking in the sunlight, or even just being  awake,  the more he would have to
feed.
‘I  do  have a resource of blood.’  he thought, red eyes glancing downward,
seemingly in reflexive response of even thinking of Yuuichirou.  ‘But I am
leery of feeding from him without his word of consent.’  Humans naturally
feared the proximity of a vampire’s fangs, but he proved himself to be an
exception the night he freely shared his body with Mikaela. However, actually
piercing his flesh and drinking was an entirely different matter from that.
The blonde still knew himself well enough to safely assume he would drink if
the need arose, because he would prefer to accomplish the goal he apparently
cared enough for to throw his whole life away: keeping the boy alive and
unharmed. It was merely a circumstance he would like to avoid.
A compromise. He would sprint like this the entire way, but at a closer
destination than northern Hyogo. Ayabe City seemed like an appropriate
distance.
 
===============================================================================
 
Six hours and fifty-two miles later, he ended up stopping at a farm outside
Ayabe City. The sun had long since crept above the horizon, bringing with it
the chill morning. His vampiric physique resisted it so thoroughly that the
most he felt was a mild draft. If not for the multitude of tiny bumps along
Yuuichirou's limbs, he'd have never guessed the boy was freezing.
If his estimations were correct, it must be sometime past seven, so stopping
now was most likely a good idea. Running around in the daylight always drained
a vampire, no matter his protections against its poisonous light.
The land itself was overrun by invading flora and bramble and the small
farmhouse on the property stood on its old, rickety knees. Paint flaked off the
sides like dried blood, crusted and discolored. It must have already been worn
and weathered before eight years of neglect.
Shelter was shelter, and being a farm, he was likely to find  something  of use
lying around.  He climbed the broken, cobbled steps up the hill, noting the
vegetation climbing up the walls, hanging over the door, and curling around the
picket fence.
He maneuvered his cargo onto his back and tried to open the traditional sliding
door, which proved the building’s disrepair further than just its appearance
when Mikaela nudged it as lightly as he could and the worn paper and wood fell
off the frame entirely. This was not his fault; Mikaela could control his
strength more than adequately. Nonplussed, the vampire silently ducked his head
below the frame too short for his foreign stature. The gaping opening would let
cold air in, yes, but so long as he wrapped Yuuichirou in blankets and moved
him into a closed room it wouldn’t even matter.
The front room was a tiny rectangle, occupied only by a lone, gray couch, a
short table that could have been a coffee table had it not been so far from the
couch, and shelves. Every surface was coated with an inch-thick layer of dust,
stirred only by the odd draft through whatever crevice in the floors and walls.
The large windows on either side of the door would have let in warm light had
they not been caked in dirt and cobwebs. The darkness made it appear even
smaller. Brass rods were nailed above the frames, oddly bare of curtains.
Resting against the wall to the side was the couch, certainly big enough to
hold Yuuichirou’s small body, but with the front door kicked down this room
would be too cold for him. He made his way down the hall directly across from
the front door, passing shelves of grimy, inscrutable photos of humans most
likely long-since deceased and miscellaneous knick-knacks.  Regardless of the
loud, pained groans of the floor beneath his every step, the old wooden planks
endured the weight of their age.
The first door on the left proved sturdier than the front by not breaking in
some fashion at a single touch, and revealed a dirty, tiny kitchen in complete
disarray. Cabinets were thrown wide open and litter was scattered over the
floor. Despite the visible chaos, a fine layer of dust covered the mess,
meaning this house was found and ransacked for anything remotely useful years
ago. That would explain the missing window curtains, which could probably make
decent makeshift blankets.
It was unlikely he’d find anything of use but it wouldn’t hurt to look around
anyways, after he found a comfortable place to lay Yuuichirou. Regardless of
what he expected to find, they need to stop because of the rising sun. And even
if there was nothing to eat here, he could probably catch a small animal.
Across the kitchen was the bathroom, looking equally plundered of anything that
could possibly be useful. The medicine cabinet above the sink, pulled wide
open, would have naturally been one of the first places a scavenger would want
to look in. The bathtub was most likely lacking running water by now, so he
wouldn’t be able clean himself and Yuuichirou.
Beside the bathroom was another door, after which the hall turned right at the
end. He made a mental note to also see where that went before checking the last
room on this floor. It was a bedroom, going by the furnishings- a bed, and a
wardrobe, and a crib made of white wood and pink cushions, dyed an ashy gray
from dust.
He felt an odd niggling in his mind as one niggled when there was information
begging to be recognized in the face of relevance, until he remembered that
these eastern cultures tended to sleep on the floor. The architecture of the
farmhouse was traditionally Japanese, but the furniture inside was a mix of
traditional and western.
Regardless, the bedroom seemed suitable enough and would have been a welcome
sight, had it not been stripped and scavenged to its exposed skeleton like the
rest of the house.
The bed was reduced to a bare mattress and wooden frame, which were just as
filthy as the rest of the house. Worse yet, they appeared to be stained in
reddish-black in various areas. Years-old blood stains. On top of that, there
was nary a pillow and, more importantly, not a blanket in sight. The brief life
of a desperate idea to use spare clothes from the wardrobe as makeshift
blankets was quickly quashed when Mikaela tugged it open and was greeted with a
desolate space occupied only by cobwebs and his dashed hopes.
This room wouldn’t be of much help at all, because the no-doubt countless
drafts in the shoddy, battered architecture around them would cause Yuuichirou
to freeze. Mikaela could offer his shirt too, if need be, but a blanket would
obviously be better.
It was a slim chance, but he left the room with the small human in tow on the
half-hearted optimism that perhaps there was something at the end of the hall
that could help. Luckily, instead of a dead end like his imagined worst-case
scenario, there was a set of ascending stairs. Their presence was surprising,
considering the house looked so small from outside that he never would have
guessed there to be two floors.
He climbed up, feeling the steps beneath him moan like the cries of a dying
animal that gave him the unpleasant anticipation of the wood shattering beneath
his feet and getting a leg stuck.  
Upstairs was a simple loft with such a low ceiling that Mikaela had to squat
down to protect Yuuichirou’s head. He’d probably have to squat down even if he
didn’t have the boy on his back, though said human could probably walk around
without a problem.
This area appeared to be a second bedroom, perhaps a girl’s bedroom,
considering the wall featured butterflies clumsily hand-painted with a visibly
amateurish touch. However, it was also picked into nothing but gaunt remains;
the bed was stripped entirely of any sort of cover or pillow, and every single
drawer to the nightstands and dresser were pulled open and visibly cleared. At
least the mattress looked relatively clean.
It was far from satisfactory, but it would have to do. Mikaela gave the surface
of the bed a good brush with his hand to remove some of the dust, before
reluctantly setting his charge down. It was an unsettling thought that, even
after all these hours, after the loud crash and crunch of the blonde kicking
down a door, and the constant creak and groan of the farmhouse’s old bones, the
boy still never even stirred.
Should Mikaela be concerned that he has yet to awaken? How long do humans
typically sleep after being put under for medical procedures? And considering
the added stress of his interrogation, he couldn’t begin to guess when he would
wake up.
And that raises the concern of food. There was no telling when was the last
time Yuuichirou had been fed. Mikaela knew from exasperating experience that
the stubborn boy could go quite the number of days on nothing, but he didn’t
know how many hungry days he’d endured already while they were separated.
The thought of Yuuichirou wasting away while Mikaela watched and waited for his
eyes to open was one that dredged up the familiar feelings of his stomach
constricting and that unpleasant burning itch just beneath the surface of his
flesh, the skittering insects he felt before he charged the underground labs
for his rescue.
Fretting over things out of his control and their hypothetical outcomes would
do neither of them any good. He should be focusing on the practical questions:
what did he know and what could he do?
Food, water, cleanliness, and warmth were the key components to human survival
that he’d learned firsthand. What did he have at his disposal to address these
needs? From the looks of things so far, not much, but he’d have to search the
property himself to really find out, and clean Yuuichirou’s sleeping place
while he was at it. And find a clean change of clothes; his bloodied coat was
unacceptable.
So first on his list would be to procure an acceptable fabric for warmth,
second was food and water, and third was clothes. Because there was no point in
gathering nourishment for the boy if he was only going to get sick from
exposure again, and Yuuichirou wouldn’t need clothes if he had a blanket to
keep him adequately insulated.
Pulling away from his unconscious body was surprisingly difficult; Mikaela had
to stop himself from turning back for an unknown, irrational reason while he
made his way back down the stairs. The space between his organs itched and
burned, similar to the way one felt when leaving something valuable behind in a
vulnerable position to be stolen. It wasn’t entirely nonsensical, he supposed,
since he  was  leaving the vulnerable human alone and defenseless. Auriel’s
snooping proved that reconnaissance agents were light of foot enough to even
sneak past Mikaela’s keen hearing.
His worry only meant that he should be swift. He turned into the ransacked
kitchen, peering into the upper cabinets one after another. They were almost
completely bare, save for a large, heavy pan- a wok, he distinctly recalled
from his reading, two cumbersome and large saucepans, and mysterious metal cans
with pictures of an orange cat printed on the sides. He couldn’t read the
characters because Japanese had such a complex writing system. He felt that he
didn’t particularly need to understand their written language to communicate
with the natives, especially when he could use their wonderfully-simple spoken
language, so he didn’t know whether this was a foodstuff made  of  cats, or a
foodstuff  for  cats.
That internal war lasted for about three seconds before common sense returned
from her brief retirement to inform him that if this was in any way consumable
by the human species, the previous looters would have long since snatched it
up.
The drawers and lower cabinets bore similarly worthless fruit- cobwebs and
dust. Not even a single dish towel or crumb remained from the many humans to
have come seeking shelter and supplies throughout the past eight years of
devastation. He doubted there would be anything of use to be found in the rest
of the house, but spent the next fifteen minutes to quickly confirm it.
With the other rooms proved emptied of helpful supplies, he knew he would have
to search the property for something to eat and something to act as a blanket.
The blonde ducked his head through the open frame and stepped outside,
squinting at the garish sunlight assaulting his eyes. It wasn’t painful, not
like he knew it could be were he not protected, but the first look into the
harsh light of day never failed to give his eyes a brief sensation of pins and
needles.
He walked around the side of the house to see if there was anything behind it,
such as a tool or storage shed, turning the corner to check the back. A glint
from the corner of his eye caught his attention; Mikaela followed it to the
sight of a set of metal doors set low to the ground. Metal. The rest of the
house was old wood, standing on its last legs from lack of maintenance, making
the gray, inorganic slab stick out by a mile. A very thick, silver padlock held
the doors shut tightly, and going by the countless scratch marks littering the
doors on either side of the lock, one that proved to be resilient.
It was a locked cellar. Of course. It  must  still contain useful supplies. No
human scavenger would have the strength to force it open and few would carry
the tools necessary to break such a sturdy lock, proven by the scars in the
metal. He could easily picture a desperate scavenger trying to hack it off with
an axe, a tool that could be found at any farm.
Lucky for them, he was no human. Foregoing the lock entirely, Mikaela plucked
it from its hinges altogether with the ease of picking grass. The stairs below
were concrete and buried under cobwebs and dirt, settled comfortably on path
undisturbed for eight years.
At the base of the stairs was the door leading to the basement. Unlike the
sliding mechanics of the traditional Japanese architecture, this door was
clearly modeled after western ones, indicating that it was probably a recent
addition to an old home. As he noted earlier, the entire house was a mixture of
rustic, traditional architecture with modern, western furniture. It was
sometimes hard to tell which was which, considering he didn’t take particular
care to study Japanese history or culture.
The western door alone would have made for an absent-minded, idle curiosity,
but it was the door frame that really caught his attention. It looked like…
gouges had been ripped from it. That wasn’t quite the right term, as there was
no indication of something like claws tearing into the wood, but it was the
only way he knew how to put it.
That aside, it was locked, but the frame around it was so damaged even a human
could kick it down, which is exactly what Mikaela did, unleashing a cloud of
dust so thick that he had to wait for it to clear because he couldn’t see
beyond the veil of stirred earth. When it dissipated, he took a good look at
the underground room.
It, like everything else on the property, was buried underneath a veritable
blanket of dust and grime. Air clogged his nostrils and burned the flesh with
the stench of damp, stagnant earth and the decay of mold. The walls of the
basement must be compromised, allowing underground moisture to seep into the
room. Anything perishable left in the open air was definitely going to be
soiled beyond safe use. Even the wood beneath his feet was rotted and crumbling
in certain areas. Moreover, suspicious grooves were carved into the beams and
frames around the walls. They were too random to be decorative- was this home
infested with some type of pest? That would explain the door frame as well.
...He should hurry. It might not be good for Yuuichirou’s health to stay here,
not when Mikaela had no way of telling what was eating the wood.
Naked piping criss-crossed the ceiling, some connecting to the large tanks in
the back left corner of the room; thankfully industrial-type equipment tend to
come with instructions with multiple languages printed. Due to his sharp sense
of sight, he could read them even standing across the room. One tank contained
gas for heating the house and oven, and the other was the water heater. Other
pipes connected back into the walls, presumably to run the contents of the
tanks through the house above. The mechanisms would be useless now without
electrical power.
Stacked against the walls were hardy burlap sacks and wooden barrels and
crates. Unfortunately, some of the latter two showed visible signs of being
attacked by the pests, with the same random grooves and gouges being eaten away
along the sides.
However, resting on the top of a crate to the far back was a dark gray
backpack, pressed flat, indicating it's emptiness. It would still be useful to
carry things once he took a good look around the room.
To the far left was another door and he made a mental note to check that after
he finished searching this one. An organized search was a thorough one.
Thus began the sweep for supplies, cracking open crates and barrels and
unraveled sacks with labels he couldn’t read. Just as he surmised, all that
remained in the crates were rotted piles of decomposed earth and writhing
insects. The containers were probably used to store vegetables, before they
rotted and the insects found their way inside.
Nose wrinkled at the stench, he also confirmed the paper sacks of rice to be
similarly unsuitable for consumption. The rice was half-mush from the exposure
to a moist environment and had suspicious-looking growths of disconcerting
color.
However, to his relief, within a crate in a far corner was a pile of rice in
sealed plastic bags, the kind that clung to its contents so tightly that air
was kept from getting inside. It  looked  like normal rice anyways, and it
would be ready to eat, so he wouldn’t have to make a fire to feed Yuuichirou
his first meal after waking up.
...Rice could be eaten uncooked, right? Surely, plenty of human foods could be
eaten raw? Rice was always boiled in the cookbooks he’d read, but that didn’t
necessarily mean humans can’t eat it raw. They ate same things in a raw and
cooked form all the time, like apples, and rice isn’t meat, so it should be
fine.
The bags would be quite a bit of food already, but humans, not satisfied with
their already endless library of needs and biological inconveniences, required
an array of different foods to satisfy dietary needs. The rice was good, but
wouldn’t be enough. Luckily, there was still the space behind the door to look
into.
It was probably even worse-off than cellar entrance, in terms of how much had
been eaten away. Opening it, or rather, removing a loose slab of wood from the
frame it could barely cling to revealed a walk-in closet, with equipment and
supplies hanging off hooks and racks on either side. Against the back wall was
a small metal safe, which would explain the sturdy security padlock on the
cellar doors. It must contain the previous owner’s valuables- heirlooms,
savings, and the like.
But above it were shelves of bottles and jars. The bottles were clear, easily
indicating the contents to be water. Filtered, clean water. He didn’t need to
be a human to know that to be a priceless resource.
The jars were not as easily identifiable. He picked one up and rubbed the
coating of dust to peer through the glass. Inside was a pleasing shade of amber
that sluggishly drifted towards whichever direction Mikaela tilted the
container. Resting within the thick, golden ooze were stalks filled with
symmetrical rows and columns of hexagonal holes.
‘What on earth is  this?’ It looked so bizarre that he couldn’t even guess what
it could specifically be, but the stalks inside were probably edible and
submerged into the liquid for preservation.
Other jars contained vegetables, some of which he remembered seeing in
cookbooks, like the carrots and sweet potatoes. They were not brown, not
rotted, but looking to be in normal condition, most likely preserved by the
strange liquid that sloshed against the glass when he picked the jars up.
...Would any of these be safe to eat? Food that’s been stewing in a strange
concoction of who-knows-what?
But surely humans wouldn’t stick their food into something that could poison
them? They wouldn’t be that blind to self-preservation, would they?
Maybe it would be best to let Yuuichirou decide when he woke up, because on top
of these questions, there were still other jars with contents he couldn’t even
begin to identify in the first place. He knew for a fact that the white, sandy-
looking stuff could be salt or sugar, but without human taste buds he had no
way to tell. Yes, Yuuichirou would definitely know better than Mikaela.
The safe wasn’t likely to contain anything remotely useful, but leaving even a
single stone unturned when in a position of need was the best way to guarantee
continued need. His sword could probably cut through it.

 He drew it from the sheath at his hip, “My sword, drink my blood.” he said,
feeling the prickly of the barbed vines piercing his flesh, before raising the
blade and slicing the top of the safe clean off. The sword was returned to its
place at his hip and he leaned over the rim to check inside.
Never let it be said that his tendencies towards methodical orderliness were
useless. Inside was the trinkets he was expecting and one that he was not:
money, an old, black ceramic bowl that was no-doubt a family heirloom, and then
a blanket, of all things. A girl’s blanket, going by the pink elephant pattern
on white fabric. Not only that, but the softness of the material, the fact that
it would not be big enough for a bed, and the childish design indicated it
would have been for a child.
...That bedroom upstairs was never used in the first place.
Mikaela was fairly certain he didn’t really feel anything for human death. The
knowledge of humans dying was no different than the knowledge of chickens or
cattle dying. As a species, they had such short, fragile lives that it seemed
their entire beginning and end passed with a blink. How could he even begin to
muster the energy to feel emotion with every blink? Though he could understand
the tragedy, he supposed, of something dying at such a tender age. He could
understand the waste of potential future.
All that said, Yuuichirou proved to be an exception, whatever that meant.
Mikaela would  not  have thrown his entire life’s work within vampire society
and his entire prospective future, even one he felt no particular emotional
attachment for, over something meaningless. Objectively speaking, he knew it
was. The boy had nothing to give him and nowhere to lead him, nowhere Mikaela
could thrive, at least. Did he throw his life away on emotional response?
That alone was an odd question because, just weeks previous, he would have
sworn to the moon and back that he didn’t have any to begin with. None that
couldn’t be controlled, anyways.
But did his newfound emotional tendencies really matter? Truthfully, he felt
busier and more clear-headed than he’s had in awhile. It felt good to make a
decision, to stick with it, to carve out a path ahead. He had no idea where it
would lead, and that in itself was unsettling for a man whose future has been
set on tracks from the moment he’d come into consciousness, but he knew how to
keep moving forward.
His previous life felt less like a road to tread and more an assembly line
carefully-mapped by someone else’s hand. That reckless charge into the labs,
just hours ago, was probably the first decision he’d ever made for himself.
Mikaela still didn't know what he really wanted- though obviously he desired
Yuuichirou’s safety. His past mental preoccupation with the boy and increased
dispassion after his departure made for a very clear contrast from the monotony
of his unremarkable life as Sanguinem's prince. Being remotely attached to
something, even for the first time, made his earlier detachment all the
clearer.
But why? Why did he care about some human’s safety? Even one as unique as
Yuuichirou should mean nothing to him when nothing  ever  meant anything to
him, besides his pride.
Well, there was plenty of time to think about it. For now, it would be best to
bring this back up to the house.
The blonde went back to the gray backpack to put it to use. He shook it several
times to beat off the generous coat of filth and was not surprised to find that
the original color was black. At least the inside was still relatively clean.
While he would have to bring Yuuichirou down here to inspect the food for
himself, Mikaela had to bring something for him to eat. He piled as many jars
of preserved vegetables as possible into the backpack before adding the
smallest bag of rice, a bottle of water, and the blanket on top, then lifted it
to carry over his broad shoulder.
Leaving the cellar, back into the glaring, gaudy light of the sun and the
familiar sensation of needles prickling his eyes, made his long legs speed up
just slightly to return to the shelter of the farmhouse. He should keep watch,
but he also wanted to try to sleep and conserve some energy-  
“Ugh…”
Were Mikaela one with a predilection towards startling, he might have dropped
the provisions.
It was a soft groan. A groggy sound in a familiar pitch and voice that was both
assuredly familiar and brought about the nostalgic feeling of encountering a
relic of long ago rang into his ears, even through the dilapidated walls of
old, decaying wood.
Yuuichirou is awake.
Chapter End Notes
     Thank you for reading!
     On a side note, I also want to thank all the readers that comment!
     With the fandom having lost most of its steam, it's you guys that
     really keep this fic alive and myself motivated. Were it not for you,
     GoH would be continued, but at half the rate because I'm the kind of
     person that thrives off encouragement and praise. The longer the
     comment, the better, haha! I want to hear your opinions and even
     criticisms, because it really makes you guys all the more real, you
     know?
     And on the bright side, next chapter we'll see Yuu again!!!! GOD I
     MISSED HIM. Mika's been insufferable without him, and I'm really
     surprised you guys stuck with me for so long without seeing him.
     Thanks!
***** White Heather *****
Chapter Summary
     After almost a year of waiting on me, Mika finally gets to walk up
     the stairs and see Yuu.
Chapter Notes
     There are no excuses. I keep saying, "I'll get on a regular schedule
     now!" WHOOPS A YEAR PASSED SORRY. I didn't get into the school I
     wanted and I've been depressed. Writing has been impossible for the
     entire year until this past weekend. I haven't had anybody to talk
     to, school has been grueling, I don't do anything except go to
     school, eat, and sleep, so I guess writing GoH is my way of "talking"
     when I can't.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Strangely enough, despite Mikaela’s concerns of whether or not the boy might
awaken, it was now that he was awake that he felt an inexplicable hesitation.
His feet grew heavy, held down by invisible weight, and he stood rooted in
place like a dumb, useless vegetable.
“Where…? Um…” From this distance, his sharp hearing could detect Yuuichirou
murmuring in confusion and it was enough to prod him to motion. He couldn't
have the child wandering around in a daze and finding a way to hurt himself.
Mikaela wasn't sure what was causing the unsettling churning in his stomach or
how to cope with it, aside from pushing it down and ignoring it as best as he
could. He used his inhuman speed to hurry back into the rotted skeleton of a
house and up the stairs, keeping his footsteps light and silent.
There, in the room where he’d left him, was the small, slender human. His back
was turned and riffling through the desk drawers for anything indicative of
where he was and how he got here. His first hint would be Mikaela’s coat,
draped across his narrow, thin shoulders, effectively drowning the boy in
fabric.
He opened his mouth to say something, anything that could tumble out of his
jumbled disarray of thoughts and muddled, confused emotions (emotional) that he
was having difficulty identifying, let alone verbally expressing.
In the end, no words were needed. The boy turned around on his own. Mikaela
once again saw twin fields of green, smelling spring air in the middle of a
musty, dilapidated shack.
“Mika…” he breathed, the bright grassy fields in his eyes spread wide and
terribly open. Mikaela didn’t know what to expect from him anymore, nor what
precisely he is meant to do. They were obviously no longer captive and jailor,
rather, something undefined, something lacking instructions that he almost
desperately wished for.
When the boy launched himself forward, he didn’t find it entirely unexpected.
After abandoning him to the hands of his would-be torturers, some anger towards
him would have been understandable and justifiable.
What he found unexpected were the two thin arms wrapping around his waist.
“You’re here…” Yuuichirou said, voice soft and muffled into his chest as he
fully submerged himself into his person. “You came for me and- and you’re
here.”
The blonde’s arms hung awkwardly at his side, unsure of themselves and of what
they should do that would be acceptable. “I am.” he responded, mystified and
unable to fathom what thought process could lead to this result. Gratitude,
perhaps, but what was there to be grateful for? He couldn’t understand any line
of thinking that would lead one in Yuuichirou’s position to feel grateful.
They stood there for an unidentifiable amount of time, Yuuichirou pressing his
warm body against Mikaela, the room cloaked in the near-silence of an empty
house filled only by the sound of the boy’s soft breathing and fluttering
heartbeat.
After what must have been several minutes passed, the vampire remembered what
meaning he could scrounge from his unlife: keeping Yuuichirou alive. With that
in mind, he was able to scrape together the vague plan for the day into a
comprehensive list of priorities and objectives that acted as a strange balm on
his roiling stomach. “When was the last time you’ve eaten? I have food.” he
said to the mass of black hair below. Humans require food. He knew this. He
could do this. He’s done this before.
His customary sense of duty and responsibility was a woefully inadequate
response to their position and to the fireworks display of emotions,
intimidating in their complexity and foreignness, that Yuuichirou was showing
him, but he didn't know what else to say or do.
If Yuuichirou thought so as well, he didn't remark upon his pitiful ignorance.
“I’unno.” came the muffled response. “Depends on how long they’ve had me… um,
knocked out.”
Neither of them could know that. “Then how do you feel?” he asked as if he were
equipped to care for a human child without the familiar restrictions of orders
and duty to guide him.
“Hm.” A grumbled hum, noncommittal and uncaring of the question.
“Yuuichirou.” he said, with a flood of exasperation almost startling in its
potency. While this was hardly the time to play the boy’s games, he wasn’t used
to feeling so much so easily. “Are you well enough to walk?” No sooner than
after he asked that doltish question, Mikaela cursed his newfound intellectual
ineptitude.
Of course he was well enough to walk when he'd just been walking around the
room and ran into his person with the single-mindedness of a train.
It was vexing how this insipid situation, the human’s emotions he didn’t know
how to read and interpret, and his disquieting sense of helplessness distracted
his mind was from its usual sharpness in the areas of goal-oriented objectivity
he was usually far more comfortable with. He felt… off. Like a gangly tree
that’s grown too big and too oddly shaped for the forest it used to fit into.
This time, he got a warm puff of air across his chest in the form of a snort.
“Ha, are you kidding? I feel like I woke up from a long-ass nap. Walking will
do these stiff legs some good.”
Despite his words, Yuuichirou didn't do much as twitch from his position buried
into Mikaela’s person. The vampire made no indication that he required an
explanation for the inactivity- bewildered but willing to passively accept the
human’s idiosyncrasies with the resignation that they would likely be beyond
explanation anyhow.
“Can we just… Stay like this for a minute? I know we gotta- gotta go get shit
done. Just let me stay here. For a minute. Like this.” he mumbled, stumbling
over his words with shaky, newborn limbs. Without a look at his face, it was
too hard to guess what he could’ve been feeling, let alone his thoughts.
Well… they certainly had much work to do, and he didn’t want to spend too much
time in this dilapidated farmhouse, out in the open within a conspicuous
building on a flat field, but they could afford a few more stolen moments if it
would help the other catch his bearings. Mikaela himself had hours and he was
still reeling from his absurd lack of sensible decision-making.
More time passed, occupied only by the furnace-like sensation of Yuuichirou
pressing his small, warm body against his own and the vampire’s circular race
of inner contemplation. With the constant buzz of an ever-increasing to-do list
flurrying about in his head and distracting him, it made coming to any sort of
rational, satisfying conclusion impossible.
“Alright…. I think that's enough.” Yuuichirou’s boyish voice cut in with a soft
sigh, twig limbs uncurling from around Mikaela’s waist. His cheeks were a
familiar red color, one that he recognized to indicate embarrassment, rather
than rage.
He didn’t know what to do with it. “Are you ready to eat now?” he said,
painfully aware this determined focus on the logical objective was just a
diversionary tactic to avoid dealing with that which he didn’t understand.
A small hand rubbed the back of a slender neck, pale from lack of sunlight. “U-
uh- yeah. Thanks.” There was more of that gratitude, which didn’t make any
sense for him to give and Mikaela did not know how to receive.
They stood across one another in a very loud silence.
“...Follow me.”
He led him outside, falling back into the comfortable and familiar application
of guard duty, keen eyes keeping close watch on the distant horizons around
them as he led Yuuichirou around the house towards the basement.
With his back turned to him, Mikaela didn’t know what was going through the
boy’s mind as they passed through the corpse masquerading as a house, but the
sound of a deep breath when crisp winter air greeted their faces prompted him
to check on his charge.
Yuuichirou visibly basked in the clean, fresh air and, sometime while following
him, had folded back the sleeves of his coat a couple times so they wouldn't
swallow his hands. “Oh man, you have no idea how gross and musty that damned
leech city is.”
...He didn’t have much of an appreciation for his surroundings, no. The outside
air or the vampire city’s, it made no difference to him. The weak thing
swaddled in his coat was objectively the only thing of note around him now.
Forest, city, or wasteland, it was all meaningless, interchangeable background
compared to Yuuichirou’s relevance. Now, when he formed opinions of different
environments, those opinions were formed in relation to him.
For example, Mikaela supposed he was less charitable towards wastelands now
because they would make feeding a human more difficult than a forest.
The vampire didn’t know what to make of that, but it was the nature of things
now, so he supposed he would have to accept them either way.
Once Yuuichirou was temporarily done stretching and breathing and doing other
things that perplexed him, Mikaela led him down the cobbled stairs to the
underground storage floor.
“Holy shit Mika, you found a goddamn goldmine- ouch!”
The high-pitched crunching sound from behind and a dizzying aroma alerted
Mikaela before Yuuichirou’s yelp of pain.
Oh… Mikaela hadn’t thought about the floor, but there were small flecks of
broken glass, scattered nails, and sharp rocks in the dirt and dust. A side
affect of never having to worry about these sorts of things before.
A sweet scent drifted through the air, reminding Mikaela that Yuuichirou’s feet
were bare, causing the gums around his fangs to throb in an instinctive longing
and his eyes to fixate on the little beads of red welling from the cut,
glittering like gemstones. Yuuichirou leaned against the wall, cradling his
foot in his hand to inspect the damage.
He pulled himself from the hypnotic seduction of the liquid. “Are you alright?”
Something like that won’t endanger his life, right? He’s seen humans in combat
withstand blows and damage far greater to their fragile bodies than those small
nicks, but he felt he could never be sure of anything anymore after that
surprise with the blanket debacle.

Green eyes glanced up at him. “Huh? Oh yeah, I’m fine. A cut like this will
heal in no time. I was just making sure nothing was stuck inside.”
At least he didn’t have to concern himself with Yuuichirou finding a way to
brush against death over tiny bits of glass. Upon further inspection of the
floor, Mikaela noted that while the broken glass was exclusive to the front
area of the room, splinters and pebbles littered across the room and easily
made hazards to delicate human skin.
With that, a problem and solution were easily paired. He immediately drew
himself near to the boy, arms intently reaching out to him.

He bolted back with the startled reflex of an alley cat, hand held up as paper
buffers to a gale. “Whoa, whoa! It’s fine! Even if I get cut, I’ll heal
anyways.”

“But it could be troublesome if something became lodged inside, right?” Mikaela
reasoned, hands still in mid-air even while the enticing aroma teased his
senses.

White teeth poked out to chew a soft bottom lip. “Well…. I guess it’d be a pain
in the ass, but you don’t have to worry about it. I can deal.”
What on earth was that response supposed to be? What nonsense. “I’m going to be
carrying you for a majority of this journey. I suggest you get used to it.” he
said flatly, thoroughly unimpressed with his fussiness. His throat felt hoarse
with the way in constricted and bobbed in response to the way Yuuichirou’s
scent seemed to soak into the walls and floors around him.
Instead of listening to any form of logic, the headache given human form stuck
out his chin stubbornly. “All the more reason to walk while I can.”
“But you can’t.” Mikaela countered slowly, to put stress on the logic of his
statement to a particularly unreasonable creature. “There’s too many hazards.
That’s the point of carrying you.”
He made a mental note that he could anticipate to claim small victories with
patient, consistent logic when the boy’s lips pursed into an unhappily resigned
pout. The thought failed to fully distract him from the feel of his tongue
growing heavy with the urge to sample the aroma that teased his nose and
offered a fantasy sample through the connection of taste and smell.
The human’s thin arms crossed, eyes flicking to the side. “Lemme on your back.”
he grunted, drilling holes into the distance with his pointed gaze.

“I can’t.”
“What- why not?”
“I’m carrying the pack there, are those eyes for show?”
“But- but I don’t wanna be carried like a girl!”
To that, Mikaela could only raise an eyebrow at getting to the true heart of
the issue and finding it an incredibly petty thing to be preoccupied with. “You
didn’t have much protest when I carried you after we-”
The loudest mortified shriek violently erupted from Yuuichirou and a small fist
launched itself into his side. The impact felt like a soft breeze and Mikaela
didn’t so much as flinch, but the outburst still surprised him because of the
intoxicating way it stirred the thickly sweet air around them.
‘Control yourself.’he inwardly snapped, loathing his newfound lack of
discipline and refusing to be as prone as any other vampire to their nature.
“Sh- Shut up!” the boy squawked with a red face, a welcome distraction, as well
as the sight of the sun reemerging through the cracks of the door. It reminded
Mikaela that they’d have to get moving sooner or later and helped to stave his
bloodlust.
Without another word, he reached down and scooped him up, ignoring loud,
vehement protests. He crossed the room, Yuuichirou complaining with obstinate
muttering of very unkind things about his genetic lineage; the picture they
made was very much reminiscent of the first time Mikaela carried him to the
room. Though this time without the endearing combination of screeching,
expletives, inane, anatomically impossible threats of violence, and useless
kicking and punching.
Compared to that little nightmare, he was now satisfyingly easy to ignore.
The space of the pantry was too narrow for them to stand side-by-side, so
Mikaela couldn’t see the boy’s expression from behind, but he could hear the
breath of surprise when he set him down on his feet. “Wow, Mika, there’s so
much!” in a flash, he was on his toes and excitedly snatched up the nearest jar
for inspection. “You really lucked out to find a stash this good.”
The vampire watched him for a moment as he happily looked over their newfound
bounty. “Yuuichirou…” he started, cut off by the reflexive rearing of his pride
as a superior entity. Swallowing it down didn’t take as much effort as he
thought it would have, though his eyes sought refuge to an indistinct pattern
of cracks in wall to his right. “What is all of this?”
“It’s food!” he said cheerfully, rubbing the dust off another jar, voice
betraying no mockery.
Mikaela resisted the urge to snark at a perceived snark that wasn’t there. “I
understand that Yuuichirou, but what food?” He faintly took the time to
understand the magnitude of change that had overcome him- he’d gone from barely
acknowledging humans as anything more than cattle to feed from and ignore, to
asking one that he’d recklessly thrown his life away for to educate him about
their food.
That gained enough of the other male’s attention to prompt him to turn around,
green eyes blinking in a bemused manner. “You mean you really don’t know?” he
said, as if it were slightly difficult for him to grasp.
“I wouldn’t be asking if I did.” the blonde replied, with a bland sort of
wryness.
Surprisingly, Yuuichirou didn’t seem to take much offense to his tone. Just
weeks ago, that would have had him flushing with anger and waspishly sniping
back. The change in personality in the boy confused him as much as the change
in his own. “Oh. Sorry, I guess I was just surprised. It always felt like you
knew everything. Well- I guess you didn’t know what curry was, but you’re also
a foreigner on top of being a vampire, so I figured maybe that was why.”
Did he really have such an impression of him? Mikaela couldn’t see what he’d
done to earn it, with the way he clumsily fumbled his way through his mission
as his jailor and consistently lost engagements of debate against a human child
with the intellectual prowess of a shoelace. “I recognize a few of them.” he
said, leaving much unspoken.
“Hm, well, I guess just ask me about the ones you don’t know.”
After a moment of picking his first inquiry, Mikaela pointed to a jar on the
topmost shelf. “What most caught my eye was that golden one on the top shelf.”
The boy’s neck craned, spine leaning backwards, standing much too close for his
height to be able to see the upper shelf. He took a small step backwards with
an annoyed huff, then gasped in delight when he caught sight of the strange
amber contents. “That’s honey!” he said, breathy and bouncing on the balls of
his feet.
“...I take it that’s good.” Over the decades, he heard and read the term from
time-to-time in idioms by humans and could remember coming across it during his
search for a curry recipe, but he’d never seen it himself.
“Yeah! Definitely! Honey’s not only super good, but it can even be used to help
disinfect wounds. We’re definitely taking that!” And he reached up to take it,
lithe body stretching out with eager hunger for his prize.
When he extended himself upwards like that, the hem of Mikaela’s coat rode
upwards like a drawn veil. The edge grazed the tops of his thighs, riding
higher until it barely hid his bottom.
His throat inexplicably constricted and his palms twitched with phantom warmth;
he almost wanted to hit himself for allowing his inexplicable degradation into
some kind of lecherous dog. The very suggestion that he could ever find his
thoughts distracted by a simple, primitive lust for
human flesh, both in sexual and appetite desires, used to warrant a bevy of
deserved ridicule from him. He was disciplined; he was controlled; he was
abovethese things.
Clearly, he was no longer.
Yuuichirou gave up on extending himself upwards, instead trying his luck with
hopping up and down like an impatient frog and uttering vitriolic swears at the
offending honey and high shelf. Mikaela reached up and plucked the golden jar
from its place with ease granted by his considerable height.
When he held it down for him to take, Yuuichirou huffed. “I would've gotten it
eventually.” He said, face scrunched up into disgruntled dissatisfaction,
presumably at his need for help. “Um, thanks though.” Small hands circled
around the glass, brushing warmth against his own. Seeing their hands together
and the contrast in size lead the vampire to wonder something.
Why was Yuuichirou so small? Granted, the honey was placed relatively high up,
but Mikaela could remember the day he encountered his teammates on the
battlefield. If memory served, almost all of them were more developed, save for
the smallest girl among them.
“Uh?”
He had a feeling it was not normal for a boy his age to be this small, but the
girl was, and that would make him think he could be wrong, if not for the fact
that males are usually taller than females. Perhaps they were just older than
him?
Well, they were allyoung to him anyways, so he supposed the answer would make
no difference in anything.
“Mika? Captain Mika, do you read? Come in, come in?” The cause of his little
traipse into the endless circle known as his inner rambling, those little
hands, were waving in his face now. When Mikaela pulled himself out of the
mental labyrinth, he found his eyes thoughtlessly trained onto a youthful face.
Ah, he was staring. “What is it, Yuuichirou?” He replied, paying no mind to the
gesture he probably would have found intolerably obnoxious just a few weeks
ago.
“You were zoning out.” the human said, giving him a strange look that combined
concern with interest.
In return, all he gave him was a non-committal, non-answering, “Hm.” The
question of Yuuichirou’s height was a petty one and not worth asking.
Which in turn, he deemed entirely unsatisfactory. “That's it? Just ‘hm’?”
“It was nothing important.” the vampire tried to dismiss.
He would have none of that, and crossed his arms with familiar mulish
insistence. “Yeah, I call bullshit. I know you. Anything that gets your old-ass
noggin caught up must be important.”
...What was that supposed to mean? Well, in another time, he wouldn't be
entirely wrong. Mikaela occasionally found his thoughts wandering aimlessly
like anyone else, but he’d always considered those occasions unfavorably.
Valuable time shouldn't be wasted on trivial things, like worthless mental
forays into unproductive, meandering thoughts, no matter how much time he had.
He hated unproductivity. To be idle, physically or mentally, would be to join
the likes of the other slothful vampires, fat, happy, and lazy like overfed
cats. It was a dangerous slippery slope of temptation to fall by the wayside
and allow existence to pass by with disinterest, unique to immortals. Mikaela
had always existed with the conclusion that fulfilling the purpose given to him
by his sire, Krul, would be his way of avoiding falling down that slope of
ennui.
Outside of his continued existential confusion, he gave another non-committal
sound for Yuu’s efforts to pick those thoughts from him. It wasn't necessary to
speak of such worthless ramblings because doing so would have no tangible goal
that he could work towards. It would just be aimless prattle eating up time
better spent discussing feasible objectives.
The boy pouted, an impressive wrinkle marring his forehead. “Fine then.” He
said through pursed lips, “Keep your deep, dark inner thoughts. I bet you were
just thinkin' about old fart things anyways.”
They worked to collect the rest and take inventory of their haul in silence.
Yuuichirou helpfully doing his best to explain anything he failed to understand
with an unexpected patience. He at least anticipated a bit of teasing, but the
boy answered his questions with a complete and straightforward earnestness.
As it would turn out, much of the jars of preserves on the shelves were already
expired. Yuuichirou pointed to their bloated, bulging lids, like they were
plugs in a overflowing dam, moments away from bursting off. “Trust me on this
one; that’s a sign the food's no good.” Even if Mikaela hadn’t already resigned
himself to taking his word anyways, the insistent, determined look on his face
was one of first-hand experience. A few of the jars he’d already packed earlier
were removed for also having those bulging tops.
Once they properly gathered anything safely edible and removed what wasn’t,
Mikaela carried the boy with his renewed grumblings back into the main room,
setting him and the bag down in the one corner free of hazards. He soon found
many sealed packages of rice and beans stored away in crates and on shelves,
while Yuuichirou restlessly attempted his version of waiting. He explained
that, as long as they were sealed tightly, rice and dry beans kept in edible
condition for years. Salt, sugar, and soy sauce were also found near the rice
and beans. As Mikaela understood human food, these things were mere condiments
meant to make food taste better, not sustenance in themselves. Yet Yuuichirou
was almost more excited about said condiments than the actual food, which
struck him as a severe case of skewed priorities.
Combined with the blanket and water, it was more than they could fit into the
bag. “Why would one farm need so much stored away?” Mikaela said, having packed
it to its fullest and setting it down on the ground beside the other male.
Yuuichirou immediately waged war on the limited space, putting all his strength
into stuffing another bag of rice inside. “I was wondering that myself. I think
that, back when things were normal, these farms were miles from town. If an
emergency happened, like a bad storm, and they got trapped, they probably
needed to be able to take care of themselves.”
That sounded like a guess, rather than knowledge. “Did you learn this when
these farms were still in operation?”
His hands paused. “...No. It’s just a guess. I didn’t know much about the world
before it all went to shit.”
Mikaela supposed, in retrospect and all things considered, neither did he. He
read strategy, he studied, he trained, but his awareness never extended past
his own affairs. That was intentional, because anything outside of his business
was insignificant or a waste of his time. It was only now, after everything
that’s happened and faced with a future of uncertainty, that he was beginning
to appreciate the gaping chasms in his knowledge.
“Ugh! Why won’t this asshole go in?!” a hard tone of frustration accompanied
the boy baring his teeth at the pack as if it were being intentionally
adversarial.
“We can’t bring the entire storehouse with us.” He thought that would’ve been
obvious.
But then Yuuichirou’s body turned stiff and wooden, frozen in place over the
uncooperative inanimate objects. Did he really not realize that? “Well, I know
that, I just-” he floundered, turning to Mikaela and waving his hands around as
if the vampire could decode some sort of secret message through inelegant
flailing. “It’s a waste, you know? It’s a waste!”
“It will be here should we find ourselves in need-”
“You don’t knowthat!”
He reconsidered the boy before him, his tightly-wound body, lips and brow set
to a wrinkled line, and a hard gaze into an indeterminate point that he was
surprised to find he could not entirely decipher. Yuuichirou was agitated;
Mikaela was familiar with his mannerisms enough to be able to read his apparent
angry frustration as the nervous agitation it was.
But this understanding was halfway, because he couldn’t for the life of him
figure out what about this was making him so emotional. A bit of disappointment
would be expected, but an obnoxious pluck bordering clinical insanity was more
characteristic of the boy than this.
“You’re right.” he conceded calmly, edging into murky waters with an unfamiliar
step. He did not have the skills to handle emotions in an agreeable way, so he
won’t bother trying. The situation needs to be resolved. “But with my skills,
procuring more for you is entirely feasible.”
Small fists clenched and unclenched at his sides in a nervous hum of energy.
“There’s no guarantee we’ll find any. And we have food right here.” he sounded
grave in a subtle way, as if there was an immediate, invisible need he couldn’t
name but could nevertheless feel.
“Be reasonable and think.” he said curtly. “It will be impossible to carry it
all. Even if we could it would only slow us down.” the boy opened his mouth to
argue more, wound up like a small animal ready to spring, but Mikaela won’t
allow him to continue his bizarre nonsense. “Becoming irrationally emotional
and engaging in melodramatics like this will never help anything.”
He drew closer to the sentient amalgamation of pain in necks and aches in heads
and made note of the way his small body locked up, but was unable to figure out
what to make of it and how he should react. Instead, he towered before him,
Yuuichirou drawn back in defensive anticipation that he didn’t understand. He
didn’t seem to fear him, so what was this reaction supposed to mean?
Mikaela moved slowly with a measured, careful pace, somewhat like approaching a
stray. There was no reason to give him cause to escalate whatever it was that
was going on with him. “I have already taken responsibility for you. If you
need anything, I will bring it to you. That’s it.” This is the way things are
now. If they were to continue their path the boy must understand what little
Mikaela understood as well; their priority will always be him. If he can’t
trust the vampire’s ability to carry them to whatever destination he chose,
then they won't succeed.
When the boy reddened to an alarmingly bright shade and his eyes widened, he
steeled himself for another outraged explosion of angry, ear-piercing screams.
The fists and kicks that would fly wouldn’t hurt him beyond the mild annoyance
they could inspire even within rocks.
But instead of physically-improbable threats of violence and shrieks so shrill
he would privately note with disbelief that they didn’t destroy the throat
producing them, Yuuichirou’s entire body went slack like an angry puppet cut
free from its strings.
What an odd reaction. If not anger, than his blush would indicate
embarrassment. Did it embarrass him to have to rely on someone else? He did
strike him as a type to be fiercely independent.
“That’s…” he started, eyes directly furtively to the side. “I don’t need you
for that.”
So that was it. “I’m sure you would’ve been able to break open a locked metal
door yourself.”
Perhaps such a tart response wasn’t the best thing to say, considering he once
again pursed his lips with frustration. “No I meant-” he cut himself off,
unable to piece together what he wanted to say. “Mika, you..” His eyebrows
furrowed, pinching his ridge, and he looked up at him, bizarrely lost and
confused when Mikaela should be the one making that face.
He waited for the other male to figure out what he wanted to say, observing his
puzzled expression and wondering what was going on in his mind to cause it. He
had been under the impression he was embarrassed to have to need his help, so
what was bothering him now?
Eventually, Yuuichirou sighed with an aggravated gust of air, rubbing his hand
into thick, tousled black hair. “Ah, fuck it, nevermind. I dunno what I was
gonna say.” Even as he dismissed himself, the troubled and thoughtful gleam in
his eye never faded. Despite the topic being dropped from conversation,
Yuuichirou had no intention of dropping it from his thoughts.
Fair enough. he won’t pry into that.
“Alright, so what’s the plan?” He planted his fists into his hips, chest puffed
out to tackle whatever plan he seemed to have expected Mikaela to have already
carefully laid out. The rapid change in mood and atmosphere was almost
dizzying, were it not an obviously conscious effort. He didn’t fail to notice
the way he still held the extra bag in his arms. Did that confirm his bizarre
behavior regarding the food was unintentional?
“That depends on you.” he said.
“Buh-?”
Mikaela refrained from commenting on the boy’s eloquence to clarify. “Where
would you like to go? I had assumed you wanted to return to… the other humans.
To your city. But would you rather go somewhere else instead?”
“I…” Yuuichirou hesitated, brow visibly crinkled above puzzled green eyes.
Either he wasn’t sure what he wanted, or he didn’t expect Mikaela to not have a
plan. From what the vampire has come to understand about the willful little
nuisance, he always knew what he wanted, so it must have been surprise, not
uncertainty, that made his nose scrunch and head tilt. “No. I have to go back
to JIDA. My squad needs me, and I want to introduce you to them!”
“I see.”
The simple, easy acceptance of his response didn’t seem to reassure him, going
by the way his expression grew to increasingly troubled perplexity. “Mika… I
know there will be some fuss when we get there, but once I explain everything,
I’m sure Guren and my superiors will understand! Even if they don’t like you, a
vampire ally would be invaluable. They’d have to see that!” he said, arms
waving like helicopter blades, an honest and determined gleam in his eye that
Mikaela already knew the world wouldn’t deliver for. “Just you wait, it’ll be
great! You can meet my squad, those guys I told you about forever ago. Oh, and
we can train together! My place is tiny, but you can live with me, and… well-”
For a moment that cut off his excited rambling, his green eyes looked unfocused
and far away.
He visibly and abruptly pulled himself back from his distraction, cheeks going
pink again while he shook his head at an alarming speed. If he didn’t know any
better he would expect to hear his brain rattling. “W-well we can talk about
that, um, later! For now we should get going, so what’s the plan?”
It was interesting how readily Yuuichirou looked to Mikaela to devise a plan
and take charge of their expedition, despite the fact that he was the one
making the decisions. Still, he would provide it that’s what he wanted, and
rattled off conclusions he’d already formed hours ago. “Evading discovery will
be crucial. I’m powerful, but not unstoppable. Especially when I have baggage
unable to fight- due to circumstances, I’m sure.” he said in a preemptive
measure to avoid an indignant outburst when he saw Yuuichirou's cheeks puff and
hair bristle like a small, offended animal. “I’m afraid it will not be a simple
and easy route. We will have to take detours, travel in misshapen patterns, and
hide for small periods in order to make our trail difficult to follow. For the
next couple of days, I would also like to avoid urban areas for as long as
possible to reduce the likelihood of encountering horsemen. They’re a nuisance
comparable to insects rather than real danger, but their noise might attract
scouts, especially since the first wave of search parties will be dense.”
“Ah, so they’re after us. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, fuckin’ leech
dickshits.” Mikaela almost wanted to write a dictionary documenting the swears
and curses the ridiculous child could invent. “So how long do you think it’ll
take?”
“I cannot give a reliable estimate. Anything could go wrong and any number of
things could happen to set us back.”
“Okay, so assuming everything goes reasonably good, what’s the best time you
can make?”
“Ideally, I could make it to JIDA’s base in Shibuya in roughly twenty-seven
hours. That would be nearly a straight run there, at my top speed, with only
enough stops for you to eat and sleep. The longest time would be a little over
a month, if we moved only at night. My goal is two-to-three weeks. We’ll go
North first, to evade the bulk of the search parties, and then ” None of these
estimates accounted for his need to drink. Running at top speed for twenty-
seven hours, after running for twelve, would require him to stop and drink
every day, maybe even four times altogether, because of the considerable amount
of energy it would expend to both maintain that level of speed and to keep that
pace through the daytime.
Mikaela doubted a single, small human could provide enough blood to sustain
that increased appetite. If they took over a month, moved primarily at night,
took some days to walk at a normal pace, and he drank the absolute minimum
necessary to not lose control of himself, he would only need blood every two
weeks. At his suggested pace, he would need blood every few days.
In other words, no matter what pace they choose, he will have to drink
eventually. If Yuuichirou refuses him, he’ll have to go hunting. The boy would
definitely hate the idea of him hunting other humans, but that wasn’t his
primary concern. He did not like the idea of leaving him alone for any period
of time, even to find food for himself.
Well, fretting about that now won’t do anything good. He won’t have to drink at
least until tomorrow; he’d rather not bring it up so they could get moving with
no distractions.
The human’s vivid green eyes, darkened in the shadow of the dim basement,
brightened into little orbs of light that threatened to pop from his skull.
“Holy shit, you’re amazing!”
“What do you mean?”
The way Yuuichirou bounced around and clenched his fists excitedly reminded
Mikaela of a little cricket, if a cricket’s eyes could shine as brightly as
his. “What do I-?! You can run all the way to Shibuya in just a couple days,
that’s what I mean! Damn, that’s amazing!”
“It’s only an expected ability from a vampire.” Shouldn’t he know that already?
Vampires rarely did anything like that because it would make them hungry every
few hours, but he should know they were at least capable of it.
To that, he stuck out his little pink tongue. “So? I still think it’s cool, so
deal with it!”
Chapter End Notes
     Ever since I started writing GoH, I'd been torn on whether to make
     them copies of canon or to make Yuu smol and Mika tol, which I have a
     weakness for. Initially, I wrote them physically resembling their
     canon selves because I didn't want the backlash from the toxic
     community that belittles anyone who writes things like that,
     "homophobic heteronormativity" and "problematic" things.
     But I've discovered who these characters are, and how their rewritten
     circumstances have changed who they are, including writing out their
     backstories. With the help of someone, I actually figured all this
     out little over a year ago, including if Yuu will ever get a
     nickname.
     I didn't want to endure the harassment and toxicity the fandom
     produces, so I kept things quiet. But by the time I wrote the smut
     chapter, I knew what I wanted. I decided I don't care anymore, about
     anything. I'm not involved with a fandom that's pretty much not
     around anymore, I don't talk to anyone, it's just me.
     Yuu is smol. Mika is tol. If that offends you, get fucked and read
     something else. I'm tired, and the only time I've felt energized in
     over a week is while writing GoH. I won't let anyone take the only
     thing I have from me through peer pressure and shaming.
     For those of you that have always supported me and left me so many
     wonderful comments and drew so much wonderful art, thank you.
     Comments are always appreciated and I don't know what I'd do without
     feedback. I like knowing what people like about GoH (for the life of
     me, whyyyy?) and what they think can be improved. Thank you for
     reading!
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