Vampire and His Pleasant Companions: Volume 1 - Part 5

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Two weeks after Al began staying at Akira Takatsuka's apartment—though to Al, it felt more like a "mansion"—Nukariya came to visit at the end of October, bringing some kalbi beef as a gift. Nukariya, whose job varied in its busyness, explained with a wry smile that sometimes, when a big case came up, he might go more than a month without a day off. Al worried that such a schedule would inevitably lead to stress, but Nukariya, despite his serious demeanor, was surprisingly prone to sneaking away from work. He often dropped by to check on Al, and when Al asked if he had the day off, Nukariya would smile and say, [“I’m in the middle of gathering information.”]

Akira’s job as an embalmer was just as demanding as Nukariya’s. Sometimes, he would be called in at night. His days off were irregular, depending on whether he had any assignments, and were never planned in advance. Al would think Akira was home during a weekday because it was a day off.

[“Oh, that’s right. It’s daytime, so you’re a bat right now.”]

Al flapped his wings excitedly to greet Nukariya. From the moment the door opened, the delicious smell of beef blood filled the air. Just the scent made Al’s mouth water. Perching on Nukariya’s shoulder, Al rubbed his head against Nukariya’s neck in gratitude for the gift. Nukariya chuckled, clearly tickled by the gesture.

"Akira says you’re cheeky, but I think you’re really cute, Al."

"Idiot, tirant, demon, hungry."

"What’s that?"

Akira jerked his chin toward Al.

"Those are the first Japanese words he learned."

Nukariya fell silent, gently stroking the small bat’s back with his fingertips.

"By the way, Al seems a little thinner, doesn’t he? He looks a bit smaller."

"I’ve been feeding him liver every morning and evening, and occasionally beef too."

"Really? Then I guess it’s just my imagination."

Even though their conversation was in Japanese, Al had started to pick up on frequently used words, like "beef" and "liver." Studying Japanese had taught him that it was an incredibly difficult language. While he could speak it, writing was another matter. There were three different writing systems—hiragana, katakana, and kanji—to represent words. Al couldn’t imagine ever mastering the ability to switch between them depending on the situation.

Still perched on Nukariya’s shoulder, Al noticed that Nukariya was staring down at a book on the table.

"Is that a Japanese textbook?"

"Yeah, it is."

Nukariya picked up the book Al was using for his intense study sessions and flipped through the pages.

"So, this is how textbooks for foreigners learning Japanese are set up, huh?"

Al’s gaze was glued to the plastic bag Nukariya had hanging from his arm as Akira’s angry voice echoed in his ears.

"You’re not eating that meat until you finish studying!"

Al clicked his tongue in frustration, annoyed that he couldn’t immediately sink his teeth into the meat. Akira spoke slowly enough that if Al concentrated, he could understand about half of the words, and if he used his imagination to fill in the gaps, he could somewhat grasp what was being said. Al considered pretending not to understand and ignore him, but Akira’s intense gaze made him give up on the idea.

Jumping down from Nukariya’s shoulder, Al hopped onto the table and let out a series of "squeak, squeak" noises toward Nukariya.

"Why is Al squeaking like that?"

"He’s probably telling you to put the book down so he can study."

Nukariya placed the book on the table. Al hooked his claws into it and opened the pages, then positioned himself to keep the book from closing.

"…You’re making him study Japanese even when he’s in bat form?"

"Of course. Since he sleeps at night, I have to make sure he studies while he’s awake. Plus, he slacks off whenever I’m not around, so I give him a test every night."

Nukariya sat down beside the table and gently patted Al’s head.

"You’ve got it tough with such a small head, huh?"

Al chirped "squeak" in agreement, as if to say, "Exactly!" Even though he was having a pleasant conversation with Nukariya, Al could feel Akira’s eyes boring into his back, so he cut the small talk short and focused on his textbook.

When Al first started studying, his goal was simply to "get a decent grasp of Japanese." But when Akira declared, "If you keep at it like this, you’ll never improve!" he started testing Al every night. The tests were oral, but if Al made a mistake, Akira would lightly tap his head with a rolled-up newspaper. Though it didn’t hurt, being hit was humiliating, so Al desperately tried to memorize new words.

As he studied, Al chirped "squeak, squeak" in a rhythmic pattern, practicing his pronunciation.

"He’s squeaking a lot more than usual. What’s he doing?"

"He’s probably practicing his pronunciation."

After finishing a page, Al flipped to the next one. Because of his small size, he struggled to keep the book open. As he tried to push himself closer to the center of the book, it snapped shut on him. Seeing Al’s predicament, Nukariya opened the book and held it down for him.

"Akira, you should help him keep the book open. He’s small, and it’s tough for him."

"Even if he’s a bat, spoiling him won’t lead to anything good."

"That’s not really the point…"

For the next hour, Nukariya helped keep the book open while Al studied. Feeling grateful for Nukariya’s kindness, Al rubbed his nose against Nukariya’s hand affectionately, making a show of it to Akira, who often smacked him on the head with a newspaper. However, Akira didn’t seem to care and didn’t even look in their direction.

After studying, Al was finally allowed to eat the kalbi. While Al licked the beef blood, Nukariya and Akira quietly conversed in Japanese, but Al was too absorbed in his meal to catch more than fragments of their conversation.

"I’m glad to see Al has gotten used to living here. I wasn’t sure how things would turn out at first."

Nukariya sighed with relief as he sipped his coffee.

"It’s good that he’s settled in, but there are still plenty of issues. Even if I want him to work, it’ll take more time."

"Is that because he doesn’t understand Japanese well? Even if he can’t speak the language, he might manage depending on the job. Al had a handsome face when he was human, so maybe he could be a model. Although, because of the whole escape incident, it might not be possible for him to do any work that puts him in the public eye."

Hearing the word "model," Al instinctively turned around, still biting into the beef.

"…This bat is stupid."

"Huh?" Nukariya responded, surprised.

"He’s incredibly dumb when it comes to human things. Was it two days ago? He said he wanted to go out, so we took the train to Shibuya together. Even though he was walking right next to me, he suddenly disappeared. I searched everywhere and finally found him in front of the station. When I asked where he’d gone, he said he’d registered with a modeling agency. He got caught in a scam. There happened to be someone who spoke English among the scammers, and they told him they’d find him work if he registered with the agency—on the condition that he bought a platinum necklace. He signed a contract for a million yen. He doesn’t even have any money, and he agreed to a five-year loan."

"Well, Al doesn’t know about those kinds of scams…"

"I warned him! I told him to ignore anyone who approached him in the city trying to sell him something or get him to attend a seminar. But when I asked him why he fell for it, his excuse was, ‘You never said not to agree to become a model.’ This little brain of his can’t even apply the simplest concepts. And on top of that, he filled in the guarantor section with my name and this address, which he’d just learned. I can’t let my guard down for even a second."

It sounded like Akira was talking about what happened two days ago, with the whole modeling agency and necklace situation. Al remembered getting scolded harshly right in the middle of the street. People were even avoiding them as they passed by. When Akira later stormed into the agency that had tried to recruit Al, he yelled at them in the same tone, so at least he was equally harsh with everyone.

"Of course, I canceled the contract. Just letting him walk around on his own means he brings back trouble in spades."

Nukariya gave a wry smile and gently patted the back of the now shrinking Al, saying, [“Well, well.”]

[“Through experiences like this, Al probably learned the hard way what not to do. …But I think Al is really trying his best. If someone asked him to be a model, he must have thought he could do some kind of work.”]

"Even so, there are part-time jobs better suited to him."

"I don’t think being a model is a bad fit. Al’s quite handsome when he’s in human form."

It seemed like Nukariya was looking for agreement, so Al, not fully understanding, responded with a quick "Squeak" to go along with it.

"Is he really that good-looking?"

"I think he’s quite attractive."

"I’m not a fan of those deep-set features. Sometimes, I wish his face would turn into a Japanese one or that his bat head could replace it."

"A human body with a bat’s head? That’s horror!"

"Is it? I think it’d work."

Nukariya, seeking agreement again, said, "Akira, you’re weird," and this time, Al understood both "Akira" and "weird," so he loudly agreed with a "Squeak," only to be met with a sharp glare from the man with the grim expression.

Nukariya, who had been chatting happily, suddenly fell silent, his eyes fixed on the television, which had been left on, showing a news program. The Japanese in the news was still difficult for Al, so he usually just watched the images. As a bat, his vision was monochrome, so the impact of the images was halved compared to seeing them in color as a human.

"Another murder," Akira muttered.

"The method is similar, so it might be the same perpetrator. This is the second case this month. The local police station had a unit from the Tokyo Metropolitan Police’s First Division come over, and they set up a joint investigation headquarters. The first victim was an elderly man, and the second was a young office lady… It’s unsettling, like the killer is attacking at random."

Nukariya was glaring at the TV screen. It was the first time Al had seen such a stern expression on the usually calm and kind man.

After spending about three hours in the room, Nukariya left. It was strange how being alone with Akira felt slightly awkward now after having had a third person there. Al had been openly affectionate with Nukariya, showing off how close they were, which might have contributed to the awkwardness.

With nothing else to do, and with Akira staring at him, Al felt pressured by his gaze and started studying Japanese.

As he flipped through the pages of his textbook, the book closed on him again. A hand quietly reached out from the right side and held the book open for him. Even though Akira was helping, Al found it hard to meet his eyes, so he kept his head down and continued reading. When Al stopped squeaking, Akira would turn the page for him. When Nukariya had helped, Al would say "Squeak, squeak" to thank him each time, but with Akira, the situation felt too awkward for that.

As the sun set, Al’s body transformed back into human form. He immediately went to the closet and put on whatever clothes he found there. Although Akira was insistent about studying Japanese, he was indifferent to other things.

When Al first moved in, he had secretly hoped that Akira would prepare clothes, underwear, and socks specifically for him. However, because their body sizes were similar, Akira had just told him, "Wear whatever you find in the closet." Al had wondered if it was okay to share even the underwear, but he had no money and couldn’t bring himself to ask Akira to buy him any, so things had stayed as they were.

At first, when Al switched between bat and human form, Akira would watch him intently. It was probably just curiosity. Recently, though, whenever Al transformed back into human form, Akira would yell, "Stop wandering around naked and put some clothes on!"

After dinner, Akira suddenly announced, "We’re going shopping."

"Shopping?"

"I taught you about money, so you should remember it."

"…Yeah."

Though Akira had explained it to him two days ago, Al wasn’t entirely sure if he remembered it correctly. Despite his uncertainty, he couldn’t admit that he might have forgotten, fearing he’d be called stupid or dumb again.

When Akira told him to hold out his hand, a silver coin dropped into his palm.

"Calculate the change yourself and buy what you need."

How long had it been since Al had money in his hand and went shopping? Feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness, he followed Akira. The streets after 8 p.m. were sparsely populated, with only a few people walking their dogs or taking an evening stroll. The cold wind slipped under Al’s shirt, making him hunch his shoulders. He sneezed, and Akira turned to look at him.

"You didn’t bring a jacket?"

" No."

Akira didn’t say anything more, but his pace quickened slightly. They arrived at a convenience store that was open late into the night. Akira sent Al inside, telling him to do the math and buy something for under 500 yen. Akira himself waited outside.

The feeling of shopping was so nostalgic that Al wandered around the store like a fish in a tank. But the longer he wandered, the sadder he felt, and eventually, he left the store empty-handed.

"What did you buy?"

Seeing Al return empty-handed, Akira tilted his head in confusion.

" Buy... nothing."

A frown of displeasure deepened between Akira’s brows.

"If you don’t buy something, you won’t get any practice."

"Nothing to buy."

"There’s no way there’s nothing to buy. Just get anything!"

Even though Akira shouted at him, Al remained motionless, staring at the ground. He had been excited when he first entered the store, but as soon as he reached the shelves with bentos and rice balls, his mood shifted. He realized that, as a vampire, he no longer needed the food and drinks he used to enjoy when he was human. In terms of appetite, the only thing he craved was blood. So, he couldn’t bring himself to buy any food or drinks. He thought about buying something else and checked the shelves with everyday items, but there was nothing he wanted. Well… he did want some underwear, but 500 yen wasn’t enough to buy any.

Akira had said this was just shopping practice, and Al knew he needed to buy something, but the longer he looked, the more empty he felt. Why wasn’t there anything he wanted besides underwear?

When he was human, there had been so many things he wanted. A beautiful girlfriend, a car… As a model, he wanted to do cool gigs that he could be proud of, like wearing high-end clothes and shoes, not posing for lame posters in cowboy gear for a local dairy campaign or doing underwear ads for mail-order magazines. He had wanted to be an actor, to go to Hollywood, to walk the red carpet at least once in his life. But with this body, he couldn’t even get a girlfriend, and without money, he couldn’t buy a car. Instead of Hollywood, he was stuck in some corner of Asia, licking packaged beef. Becoming a popular actor was now a distant dream, one he couldn’t even begin to chase.

As Al fell silent, Akira raked his fingers through his hair in frustration.

"Fine, just go buy some milk and bread. I’ll need them for breakfast tomorrow."

This man, who was giving him orders, could so easily come up with things he wanted. Even if it wasn’t blood, normal food gave him the nutrients he needed, so he didn’t have to turn into a bat during the day.

"No."

Al refused flatly. If he went into the store, he knew he would feel empty and sad all over again.

"What’s with you all of a sudden? You looked so happy before we got here."

"No."

As soon as the word left his mouth, tears started pouring from his eyes.

"What’s wrong with you?" Akira asked, looking at Al’s face with a confused expression. "I’m not asking for anything difficult."

When Al didn’t respond, Akira demanded, "Say something." But Al remained silent. Even if he tried to explain, Akira probably wouldn’t understand. Nukariya might have sympathized and said something like "That’s so unfortunate," but Akira would likely just shrug and say, "That’s life," pushing Al even further into despair. Al had no intention of sharing his feelings with someone like that. He didn’t want to be hurt any more than he already was.

"Do whatever you want!"

Akira yelled at Al, who was still silent, then turned his back and started walking back the way they came. Al stood alone for a while in front of the convenience store’s vending machines. Eventually, he started walking slowly. He didn’t want to go back to that room, but he had nowhere else to go.

There was a park near the convenience store. It was a lonely place, with thick trees surrounding it and only a few streetlights. Al sat on a bench near the pond and sighed deeply.

Maybe he should go back to wandering like he had in Nebraska. But that wouldn’t work here. The city was densely packed with people and buildings, and there didn’t seem to be any good places to find food. Even in Nebraska, he couldn’t survive in the city without money. That’s why he kept moving to more rural areas, where there were animals but fewer people.

Where would he go in the countryside of Japan—north, south, west, east? In Nebraska, he knew which direction to go to find the countryside or the city, but here, he had no idea. He hadn’t even looked at a map of Japan yet. Maybe he should just go back to America. Life would be easier there. If someone could ship him in a big box so he could stay in human form… but then again, there was no one left to receive him.

Even if he returned to Nebraska, there would be no one waiting for him. As these thoughts weighed on him, tears started to flow again. He sniffled and wiped his eyes with his sleeve.

How long had he been sitting on the bench, crying? It wasn’t cold enough to chill him to the bone, but it was cold enough that his hands felt icy as he rubbed them together. Then, he felt something drip onto his head. He looked up. It was rain. The rain wasn’t heavy, but he knew he should find shelter. If it started pouring, getting wet would only make him colder. Even though he knew this, the thought of moving to stay dry felt like too much effort.

Footsteps crunched on the ground, getting closer. …There was a scent of blood. Old blood. Akira must have come looking for him. Al felt a mix of relief and reluctance, not sure if he wanted to face him, but at the same time, he wanted to return to a warm place. With conflicting emotions, he raised his head.

But it wasn’t Akira standing there. It was a man in his twenties… or maybe his thirties—it was hard to tell with Asians. He was a thin man with short hair, wearing black glasses, a black coat, and dark pants. His clothing was so dark it almost blended into the night. The only thing that stood out was his wide smile, illuminated under a streetlamp.

"Good evening. Do you understand Japanese?"

The man spoke slowly, making it easy for Al to understand, but he couldn’t respond in Japanese yet.

[“Not really…”] Al answered in English.

Switching to English, the man continued, [“Could you take a look at this? The print is too small for me to read. Can you see what the numbers say?”]

The man held out his left hand, offering a small piece of paper. The tiny print looked like it was swarming with letters, and there were numbers visible too. Al thought it might be a receipt as he leaned in closer to the man’s hand to get a better look.

Thud!

A crushing impact hit his back, knocking the wind out of him. As soon as the object was pulled out, a searing pain flared up in his back. What… is this? He had been punched, kicked, and even had his bones broken before, but this was a completely different kind of pain.

[“Ah… it hurts… it hurts…”]

"Haha… hahahaha."

The man’s laugh was innocent, like a child having fun on a picnic. Al looked up through the pain to see the man laughing gleefully.

"Why don’t you just die quickly?"

The knife in the man's hand glinted dully as he raised it again. Al instinctively crouched to defend himself, but a sharp object struck his back once more. The pain was unbearable, making it impossible to move as he wanted. He took a step forward and collapsed off the bench, falling to his knees on the ground. He felt a gouging sensation at the nape of his neck. Oh, he had been cut. His neck... had been slashed. He could feel the blood spurting out. His strength drained all at once, and he collapsed onto the ground with a thud.

"I got a foreigner," the man muttered, taking off his coat. He shoved the coat and the knife into a large bag and walked away slowly, as if nothing had happened.

Lying face down on the ground, Al was in shock. Both the stab wound in his back and the slash on his neck throbbed with a burning pain. Along with the excruciating pain, questions swirled in his mind. What was that? Why? Why? Why did this have to happen?

It hurts, it hurts, it hurts. His back and neck both hurt. He cried as he watched the blood pouring from his wounds, seeping into the ground in dark, black stains. As if it wasn’t enough to feel miserable, now his body was battered too. This is the worst, the absolute worst.

Moving only made the pain worse, so he stayed still and waited for the bleeding to stop. If he remained calm, his body would heal naturally. It would take days, but the bleeding would stop. Even if the bleeding stopped, the wounds would still hurt like any normal person's until they were fully healed. Even as a vampire, even though he wouldn’t die, the pain never went away. If it took two days to heal, it would hurt for those two days... though it would gradually get better.

He cursed the man from earlier with a fierce hatred. Did that guy even know "who" he was stabbing? He couldn't have known. Attacking a foreigner who was also a vampire like himself made that clear. The man probably didn’t care who his victim was.

This wasn’t the first time something like this had happened. Once, while sleeping in a boathouse along the river near Gaddis’s house, he was assaulted by three young men who were camping nearby. They seemed to think he was homeless, repeatedly calling him "homeless." At that time, his skull was cracked, his spine was broken, and both legs were fractured. The pain was so intense he nearly lost consciousness, and it was agonizing. He thought it would be better to die than suffer like this, but he couldn’t die. Even as an incomplete vampire, he still couldn’t die.

The three men tossed the immobilized Al into the nearby river. He was carried downstream about three miles before getting caught on a bridge pier, where he spent the night.

The rhythm of the rain, which had been intermittent, quickened and began to pour steadily. Being wet made him cold. The bleeding from his neck was gradually starting to stop. Can I stand? Telling himself this, he slowly tried to stand up. Suddenly, a sharp pain shot through his back so intense he couldn’t even scream, and he crouched back down. He felt the blood spurting again from his neck, which was supposed to have closed.

The bleeding was slow to stop. Never mind the healing of bones and organs; at least the bleeding usually stopped quickly... Maybe he was too weak. He’d been surviving on chicken liver and only occasionally cow’s blood. In a state of chronic hunger, he couldn’t gather any strength. In this condition, it would take longer than usual for his back and neck to heal. Al crawled over and slipped under the bench. His feet stuck out, getting wet in the rain, which was cold.

He could see raindrops splashing against the muddy ground. He started feeling sleepy. Perhaps his body was shifting into a mode to conserve energy to use the remaining blood efficiently.

It would be better if he could just die in his sleep. Then he wouldn’t have to feel pain, wouldn’t be hungry, and wouldn’t have to endure the misery. He wouldn’t have to think about anything at all, about what comes next, about anything.

The sound of raindrops hitting an umbrella, a pattering noise, came through the steady rain. Someone was approaching. A dark figure. Al shuddered at the thought that it might be the man from earlier coming back to finish him off. He bent his knees to pull his protruding feet back under the bench, trying not to be noticed, but a sharp pain shot through his back.

The face was hidden under the black umbrella. The pattering, the fear, drew closer... Contrary to his expectations, the black umbrella simply passed by. Whoever it was didn’t notice him hiding under the bench.

He followed the figure with the black umbrella with his gaze. It wasn’t the man from earlier. The clothes were different. He thought it might be Akira. Once he thought that, even though he couldn’t see the face clearly, it only looked like Akira. The black umbrella passed by the sandbox, moved between the playground equipment, crouched down several times, looking around, and finally returned to the bench.

“Ah... Aki...ra...”

The umbrella, about to pass by, wobbled up and down with a “Whoa” and stopped. The person crouched down and peeked under the bench. It was Akira, after all. Al was overwhelmed with happiness that Akira had come for him, and tears started to fall.

“What are you doing in a place like this... wait, what happened to your neck! It’s all red!”

Even though he was worried, Akira's voice was loud as always.

“It... hurts...”

“It looks painful, alright. How did you hurt your neck? And why the hell did you crawl under here? What were you thinking?”

Akira grabbed Al by the arm and dragged him out from under the bench. Although it wasn’t rough at all, the movement twisted his body, causing a sharp pain to shoot through his back. He let out a bat-like screech, “Gyaaah!” Startled by the sound, Akira’s grip loosened. The black umbrella dropped to the ground with a thud.

Akira stood there, half-open-mouthed and dumbfounded, looking down at Al, who was covered in blood.

[“What the hell happened?!”]

The words he heard were in English.

“Man...”

[“Forget Japanese, speak in English!”]

[“I was... stabbed by a man”]

[“Who the hell was it?!”]

[“...I don’t know. I’ve never seen him before”]

[“I’m calling an ambulance...”]

Al saw Akira frantically take out his smartphone and yelled, [“No, don’t!”]

[“Don’t... call an ambulance...”]

Akira’s hand stopped as he was about to use the phone.

[“I’m... not like normal people”]

[“Then what are we supposed to do? Your neck and back are slashed wide open. You can’t heal from this without stitches!”]

[“I’ll heal... it’ll take time, but I’ll heal on my own...”]

Akira made a face like he had just eaten something bitter but decided against calling the ambulance. He said, [“Better than nothing, right?”] as he threw his coat over Al’s head, then hoisted his bloody body onto his back and began walking quickly. The rain was still falling, but the coat kept it off, so he wasn’t cold. Every jolt sent pain through his wounds, but the warmth from Akira’s back gradually seeped into him.

[“Who the hell pulled this crap? What am I supposed to do if this idiot dies?!”]

Akira's voice echoed in his ears. Feeling grateful, Al clung tightly to the warm back.

[“I’m not going to die”]

Akira’s back flinched in surprise.

[“Don’t worry, I won’t die”]

He felt relieved. The moment he felt secure, Al’s consciousness began to fade away.

◇:-:◆:-:◇

For the next three days, Al slept deeply in the bed. Perhaps out of sympathy for his serious injuries, he was allowed to stay in bed, whereas before he had been sleeping on the sofa. During the day, he would turn into a bat, and at night, he returned to human form, but he didn’t take a single step out of bed. No, he couldn’t step out of bed.

The wounds gradually closed over time, and by the second day, they had completely healed without a trace. Still, he couldn’t move. He had no strength in his arms or legs, so he couldn’t even sit up.

When Akira came home from work, the first thing he did was pull back the sheets to check Al's back and neck. Since Al couldn’t dress himself due to his injuries, he hadn’t been wearing clothes since he got hurt. Perhaps because it made it easier to see his wounds, Akira hadn’t dressed him either.

“Your wounds have healed, so why can’t you move?” Akira muttered.

“No... strength,” Al replied in a small voice, explaining the reason. Even speaking was exhausting.

“I’ve been giving you three times the usual amount of liver, plus steak, haven’t I?” Akira had been considerate since Al’s injury, serving steak every night. It was a dream-like luxury that was unimaginable in the past. Before, that would have been enough to recover quickly, but recently Al’s meals had been sparse, barely providing enough energy for him to function, and he had lost a significant amount of precious blood all at once. Whatever little strength he had left had been used up entirely in closing his wounds as quickly as possible to prevent further blood loss. The cow’s blood contained in the steak was just a drop in the bucket. He was completely out of fuel. Even though it must have been expensive, and Akira was splurging on steaks every day, Al couldn’t bring himself to say that it still wasn’t enough.

“Steak... strength... build... okay...,” Al said, forcing a smile to reassure Akira. Even though not being able to move freely was tough, he was happy that Akira was being so kind. He didn’t yell or shout, and if Al said he was in pain, Akira would gently rub his back. If he could be treated this kindly, Al almost thought he wouldn’t mind if his strength never returned...

“Could it be that even with the steak, you’re not getting enough nutrients? You did lose a lot of blood. But since your wounds have healed, I thought you’d be okay...” Akira said, his eyes shifting away unconsciously.

“Okay... just... little... better...” Al said, trying to avoid making Akira worry, but Akira fell silent. He seemed to be thinking about something, then abruptly muttered, “Alright.”

“Today, I’m going to give you a special treat,” Akira declared.

Hearing the word “treat,” Al tilted his head. Would that mean double portions of steak?

“I’m off work tomorrow, so just this once, I’ll give you a little of my blood,” Akira said.

Al couldn’t believe his ears.

“But only up to 400 milliliters,” Akira added. He rummaged through a shelf and pulled out something— a syringe with a needle.

“This is something I got as a sample from a supplier before. With this, the wound will be no more than a needle prick,” he mumbled while tearing open the syringe packaging. Then, he tied his left arm with a stretchy band, and without hesitation, inserted the needle into the crook of his left elbow, loosening the band with his mouth. Once he pulled the needle out, he brought the dripping blood close to Al’s mouth.

“Don’t waste a single drop. And remember, only up to 400 milliliters,” Akira reminded him firmly.

“But... I... never...” Al hesitated.

He had never drunk human blood before. Although he had thought about wanting to, or wishing he could, he never had the opportunity. Without fangs, Al couldn’t drink human blood without hurting someone. That was something he could never do, and didn’t want to do.

“Hurry up! It’s dripping!” Akira urged.

The deep red blood, like a well-aged wine, began to drip. Al was already so hungry, and with a feast dangled right before his eyes, there was no way he could resist. Especially since Akira had given his consent and was telling him to drink. Al opened his mouth wide and latched onto the wound.

Immediately, a rich, salty flavor spread across his mouth. It was savory, full-bodied, and thick. The sheer deliciousness of it made Al feel like he might faint. Animal blood couldn’t compare. The difference was like a snack compared to fine French cuisine— utterly incomparable. He had never known something could taste so good. Al held Akira’s arm with both hands and sucked hard on the wound.

“It's okay to drink, but be careful not to overdo it,” Akira warned.

But Al couldn’t hear him. It was so delicious... so delicious... more, more... That was all he could think about. The exquisite sensation flowed down his throat. With every gulp, he could feel strength filling his entire body.

“Hey, you remember what I said, right?!” Akira’s voice, shouting close by, went right through his eardrums without registering. Even when Akira slapped him on the back roughly, Al’s mind, driven by instinct, was beyond control. He latched onto the wound like a leech. He couldn’t stop.

“Enough already! You’re drinking way too much. I’m... I’m getting dizzy,” Akira said, sounding alarmed.

Uh-oh, this might be bad... Al thought as his stomach began to feel full. Even though he knew he should stop, his body wouldn’t listen. It felt almost like having sex— it felt incredibly good, and he was just about to climax, so there was no way he could stop.

Before he knew it, Akira’s arm went limp. In that instant, Akira collapsed forward onto his stomach with a heavy thud.

“A... Akira?”

Even after shaking him, Akira didn’t wake up. Blood trickled from the needle puncture where Al had just been sucking. Al hurriedly grabbed a nearby towel and pressed it against the tiny wound. The bleeding stopped quickly, but Akira’s face remained deathly pale, and he didn’t open his eyes. He was breathing, but very weakly.

He might die. Al felt all the blood drain to his feet, and his hands began to tremble. He had been so kind, even going so far as to give him blood, and now he might die because Al drank too much. Al nearly burst into tears, but he clenched his back teeth tightly to hold them back.

He had to call an ambulance, right away. But how do you call an ambulance in Japan? He picked up Akira’s smartphone but didn’t know what number to dial. Oh, he should call Nukariya! He had given him his number before. But where had he put that piece of paper? He couldn’t remember. He didn’t know. And before anything else, he couldn’t unlock the screen. Frustrated, Al threw the smartphone aside and ran back to Akira’s side. Akira’s face was still as pale as ever, and no matter how much he shook him, his eyes wouldn’t open. There was no time to waste. Al dashed outside and banged on the neighbor’s door.

“What the hell! It’s so loud!”

A man about the same age as Al came out. He had an unremarkable face, typical Asian skin tone, but his hair was blond and his eyes were green. Not knowing his race, Al assumed he was a foreigner, definitely American.

[“Help! Help! He’s dying! Call an ambulance!”]

“What the... What the hell are you saying? I can't understand you when you speak like that in English!”

Al didn’t have the presence of mind to realize that the man’s shock was due to the blood smeared around his mouth and the fact that he was stark naked.

As the man moved to shut the door, Al quickly stuck his right foot in the gap. Not wearing shoes, the impact of the metal door hit his foot squarely.

“Ouch!!”

With a sickening crack, he felt the bone shatter and screamed in pain. The man, startled, let go of the door and fell back onto his butt in the entranceway, looking like he was about to cry.

“Please, don’t do this to me!”

[“Why are you closing the door? Don’t be mean, call an ambulance! My friend is dying!”]

“I told you, I don’t understand English!”

Suddenly, it was like a door swung open in his mind, and Al understood what the man meant. The Japanese words he needed to say fell into his head with a thud.

"Call ambulance do."

Al spoke in Japanese.

“Friend, help, please, please!” Al said in broken Japanese.

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