Vampire and His Pleasant Companions: Volume 3 - Part 10

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As dawn neared, around 4 a.m., the filming finally wrapped up. 

"We’re done! Great work, everyone!" 

Following the assistant director’s shout, the staff echoed, "Good work, everyone!" as their voices filled the air. The crew immediately began the teardown process, quickly packing up the sets, props, and lights. 

Hearing Sakeiri explain the next day’s schedule to Mitani and Haruna, Al remembered that this was his final shoot for the drama. He had promised Akira that he would only participate in the initial location shoot. Feeling a bit lonely, Al averted his eyes from Mitani and Haruna. 

At the edge of his vision, near the arched door in front of the lined-up mausoleums, a dark figure shifted. At first, he thought it was a trick of the eye, but no, someone was there. 

What struck him as strange was that, while all the other staff members were busy working, this figure showed no intention of helping. It wasn’t as if someone was just passing by out of curiosity. After all, who wanders around a cemetery in the middle of the night? Even as a walking route, it’d be a pretty morbid choice. 

A chill ran down Al’s spine. Was that shadow truly someone living? While Al was consumed by fear, the shadow suddenly vanished. It might have slipped behind the door, but it felt more like it had simply disappeared. Panicked, Al turned on his heel and rushed toward the location bus. 

Akira was nearby, carefully wiping down the brushes and tools he had used, next to the makeup box on the folding table. Al reached out and lightly pinched the back of Akira’s shirt. He couldn’t shake the feeling that the shadow had been a ghost. Maybe it had come to check on them after they’d been making noise in the cemetery all night. Al wanted to talk to Akira about it, but he feared Akira would just laugh and say, "A ghost? So what?" 

Akira twisted his body, his movement awkward because Al was still holding onto his shirt. 

"Hmm? What is it?" 

"Nothing." 

"Then let go. You’re in the way." 

Al hesitated, still gripping Akira’s shirt, when Sakeiri suddenly approached them, cheerfully shouting, "Hey, hey, hey!" Akira turned his face away in clear annoyance from the overly jovial man. 

"You really saved us today, Takatsuka! Your makeup skills are incredible. I mean, it’s practically a superpower." 

"That’s not a superpower, it’s my job." 

Sakeiri clapped Akira on the shoulder. 

"Still, it’s like a special skill, isn’t it? Speaking of which, a lot of guys who do hair and makeup tend to, uh, lean that way, right?" 

"Which way? Asia, Europe, or the Middle East?" Akira shot back with a sharp, piercing look, causing Sakeiri to clam up in a panic. 

Although he could have simply expressed gratitude, Sakeiri seemed to have a knack for saying things that would annoy Akira. 

"S-so anyway, that old guy really helped us out. The staff said he seems to know a lot about this kind of work, even though he looks like some country bumpkin. Could he be a film nerd or something?" 

…Al couldn’t help but feel a bit sorry for Richard. He was blending in with the staff, happily helping with the cleanup. Just then, a foreign staff member dressed entirely in black approached Richard. Al’s heart nearly stopped as he recognized the figure—it was the same shadow he had seen earlier. However, after a brief exchange of words, Al realized it was just a living person, and he let out a sigh of relief. After chatting for a moment, Richard began walking with the man in black. 

Al felt like he had seen that man’s back before. As he racked his brain, it finally hit him—this man’s silhouette resembled the one he had seen walking around their house earlier in the day. If the man from the night, the man from the day, and this man were all the same person, then Richard could be in danger. But he wasn’t sure if it was really the same person. 

Unable to shake the uneasy feeling, Al decided to follow them. The figures disappeared quickly into the trees, moving fast. The light from the set no longer reached them, and it was then that Al noticed it was a full moon tonight. 

The dark shadows of the mausoleums cast across the grass, and the angels’ statues, which were supposed to guide the souls of the dead to heaven, looked eerily sinister in the moonlight. The filming had taken place near newer marble graves, but the further Al ventured, the older and more decrepit the tombstones became. 

The two figures stopped. The man in front turned around, and something glinted in the moonlight. 

[“Whoa!”] 

With a scream, Al broke into a run. The man’s right arm swung in a wide arc, and Richard, stepping backward, stumbled over an old gravestone and collapsed onto the grass. 

Seeing the man about to strike again, Al shouted, [“Stop!”] The hand holding the knife froze for a moment. Al rushed to Richard’s side, placing a hand on his back. 

[“Are you okay?”] 

[“...Yeah. It’s just a scratch.”] 

Although the man didn’t have a beard, his face was unmistakably the same as the intruder from yesterday. He had followed Richard all the way here. 

The man spun around and fled like a rabbit. 

[“Wait!”]

Al chased after him. He could hear Richard’s voice behind him, [“Al, it’s fine!”] but his legs wouldn’t stop. The man had persistently targeted Richard with clear malice. There was no guarantee he wouldn’t try again. If Al could catch him now, it would be for the best. 

The man scrambled over the cemetery fence and dashed outside. Al followed, climbing the fence after him. The man reached a pickup truck parked by the roadside and jumped in. The truck bed was filled with ladders, shovels, and several rolled-up canvas bags, like the tools of a gardener. 

The engine roared to life, and the truck began moving. Al leapt from the fence onto the truck bed with a heavy thud. Realizing someone had jumped aboard, the man began swerving wildly like a stunt driver. Ladders and shovels swung violently from side to side, hitting Al painfully. 

Enduring the blows, Al crouched low and grabbed the edge of the truck bed to avoid being thrown off. It felt like being on a roller coaster, the chaotic swerving making his head spin. At one point, the truck bounced hard, likely hitting a large rock. A canvas bag rolled off the bed, tumbling down the road and disappearing into the darkness.

After a while, the truck stopped its erratic swerving and slowed down. Perhaps the man thought Al had been shaken off along with the bag. Al decided to wait until the man stopped the truck before catching him. He lay low in the truck bed, holding his breath.

The truck eventually merged onto the highway, heading back toward the center of Chicago. It passed the Willis Tower on the left and continued south, exiting the highway along the way. It entered downtown, weaving through narrow, cramped streets, before finally stopping in front of an old, small house with a front porch that looked ready to collapse.

The man got out of the truck, opened the garage, and turned on the light. He drove the truck inside, headfirst. As he cut the engine and stepped out, Al jumped on him from behind.

[“Uwaah!”]

The man fell flat on his back with a thud. A knife, probably tucked in his pocket, fell out and clattered across the concrete floor. Al straddled the man’s stomach. Without a weapon, Al had the upper hand.

Though he had thought the man was younger, now that he saw him up close, the black-haired man looked about the same age as Akira. His blue eyes stared up at Al in shock.

[“You’re the one who snuck into the yard yesterday, aren’t you? Why did you attack Richard?”]

The man stayed silent, struggling furiously. Al pinned his hands down and thought. This man had specifically targeted Richard. Was it out of resentment? Or was it simply to gain notoriety by attacking a celebrity? Either way, the knife carried clear intent to kill. He couldn’t let this go. He had to hand him over to the police.

But as things stood, with both of the man’s hands pinned, Al couldn’t call the police. He glanced around for something to restrain him and spotted a thick plastic rope to his right. After flipping the man onto his stomach, Al let go of his hands. When someone is lying on their belly, they can't offer much resistance. Staying seated on the man’s back, Al reached for the rope. He was almost able to grab it when he felt the man twist beneath him.

Bash!

A dull sound, followed by an explosion of pain in his stomach. Al’s body shuddered violently from the shock, and the smell of gunpowder filled his nostrils. His lower abdomen—the white vampire costume he wore—was suddenly soaked with red blood.

[“Ah...”]

The searing pain in his gut made him realize he had been shot. Then, a gun was pressed against his chest, and he was shot again.

[“Uwaah!”]

The force of the gunshot sent him tumbling backward. Al rolled onto the ground, writhing in pain. The more he moved, the faster the blood flowed. His heart was destroyed—it was fatal. He pressed his hands against his chest and abdomen, trying to stop the blood from spilling out.

The man slowly stood up, still holding the bloodied gun, and looked down at the suffering Al with his glassy blue eyes. A human would be dead already, but Al wouldn’t die. No matter how agonizing it was, he wouldn’t die.

The man kicked Al in the back as he groaned and spat at him with a “ptoo.”

[“...You.”]

A trembling, faint voice. A red-haired woman, wearing a gown, peeked nervously from the garage entrance. She looked to be in her thirties, older than the man.

[“I-I heard gunshots... what happened to that person?”]

[“He was a thief. Tried to steal some car parts. I had to shoot him—he was going to kill me. It was self-defense.”]

The woman cautiously looked down at Al, lying on the floor.

[“...Is he dead?”]

[“Probably.”]

The man’s tone was disturbingly calm for someone who had just seriously injured someone. Through his overwhelming pain, Al forced himself to squeeze out a few words.

[“He... help me.”]

The woman gasped, clapping her hands over her mouth with a short scream, [“Aah!”]

[“Sh-shouldn’t we call an ambulance for him?”]

[“...Stay quiet.”]

The man spoke in a low voice, then pressed the gun barrel against Al’s forehead and pulled the trigger.

◇:-:◆:-:◇

Al was wrapped in a transparent plastic sheet and shoved into a large cloth bag. As the man worked, the sound of the woman’s sobbing echoed nearby.

[“He was still alive... he was alive. If we had taken him to the hospital, maybe he could’ve been saved. He couldn’t even move anymore, so why did you shoot him in the head? He was just a thief, wasn’t he? You didn’t do anything wrong. So why are you trying to hide the body? You should call the police and explain everything.”]

The man said nothing.

[“He was wearing a white tuxedo, almost like a groom. Does that kind of person really steal things? Maybe he was just drunk and wandered into someone’s garage by mistake. Hey, listen to me...”]

The bag swayed violently, as if the woman was shaking the man.

[“Shut up, stay quiet.”]

The man shouted, and the woman’s sobs became louder.

[“God will never forgive something like this... Even sinners deserve forgiveness if they atone for their sins.”]

[“You saw nothing. That’s all you need to do.”]

The bag was dragged along. Suddenly, it was lifted and then dropped with a heavy thud. Al groaned in pain. He had likely been tossed into the truck bed.

[“I-I just heard a sound. He’s still alive. We need to help him.”]

[“I shot him in the heart and head. Even if he’s alive now, he won’t be for long.”]

[“That’s... not possible.”]

The pain Al felt doubled from the impact, and he writhed inside the cloth bag.

[“You’ve changed since Monica died.”]

[“Don’t talk about her!”]

The man’s voice grew harsh.

[“No, you know it too. The old you would never have done something this cruel.”]

[“This has nothing to do with her! I haven’t changed!”]

[“You’re the only one who doesn’t see it. Joel, your best friend, and even Sutton from the bar—they all say the same thing. 'He’s not been the same since his sister Monica died.' “]

There was a dull thud followed by the woman’s scream, [“Aah!”]

[“Shut up, shut up, shut up!”]

[“Monica was such a sweet girl. Beautiful, kind, I thought of her as my own sister.”]

A wolf-like growl escaped the man—it must have been him.

[“Ahh, Monica was my pride and joy. She was so cute, so kind... So why did she have to die just because she lost a minor film role? No, she didn’t commit suicide; she was murdered. Richard Carlisle killed her!”]

Now Al understood why the man had attacked Richard. Many held grudges against him—people who envied his fame or whose fate had changed because of him...

[“No, her death wasn’t anyone’s fault. It was her own struggle. Not everyone who loses a role ends up dead.”]

[“She staked her entire career on that role. She worked so hard...”]

[“I know how hard she tried. But it couldn’t be helped. No matter how beautiful, kind, or talented she was, Monica just didn’t have what it took.”]

[“Why not!?”]

[“Because there are countless other actresses with similar looks and talent!”]

The woman’s words pierced Al’s eardrums.

[“Aah!”]

Her sobs turned into a scream.

[“N-no... please don’t... don’t shoot!”]

Al’s heart raced. Did he... point the gun at his own lover or wife?

[“...Get out.”]

[“You’re insane. You’ve lost your mind!”]

[“I said, get out!”]

The man’s shouts were followed by the sound of footsteps retreating.

[“Damn it, damn it, damn it!”]

The man continued to mutter to himself, as if talking to no one in particular, for a while.

◇:-:◆:-:◇

After about twenty minutes of driving, the car hit an unpaved road, causing it to jolt violently in all directions. Al was already in pain, but with each jarring bump, sharp waves of agony coursed through his body, forcing him to let out small cries.

Maybe it was because he had been holding the wounded areas with his hands, but the bleeding had stopped. However, his body wasn’t healing as quickly as it normally did. Compared to being cut to pieces or shattered, the injuries this time were limited to three areas, making it easier to manage. Still, the pain was severe.

As he endured the pain, Al wondered what would happen to him now. Would he be buried in the mountains or thrown into a river? If he had a choice, he hoped it would be the mountains. Drowning after being injured would be the worst—doubling the suffering. If it was the mountains, he’d likely be buried. In that case, he could just wait for his wounds to heal. Without any blood supply, it might take a month or two for full recovery.

Would Akira come looking for him? Or would he go back to Japan for work? If Akira returned home, how would Al get back to Japan on his own?

But... Al didn’t think Akira would leave without finding him. He would search, keep searching, until he found him.

The car lurched forward with a heavy jolt and then stopped. Al heard the door open with a bang. There was the clattering sound of metal and the rustling of grass being pushed aside, but suddenly everything went silent. The eerie cries of night birds echoed in the distance. For a moment, Al thought he might be left here with the car, but that wasn’t the case.

Soon, the rustling of grass returned as the man approached. He dragged the cloth bag containing Al, and suddenly, Al’s body was lifted briefly before crashing down with a jolt.

[“Aghh!”]

He had been thrown from the truck bed onto the ground. As Al groaned in pain, he heard the man’s confused voice, [“Are you some kind of monster?”]

Even though the man realized Al was still alive, his rough treatment didn’t change. The cloth bag was dragged roughly over the ground, and as Al’s mind spun from the pain, he was dropped into a pit.

[“Ouch!”]

Al cried out involuntarily. A gunshot rang out with a bash, and pain shot through his left shoulder. More gunshots followed, each striking different parts of his body, exploding with pain. The man had realized Al was still alive and was trying to finish him off. It was brutal... and then the pain exploded in his throat, rendering him voiceless.

[“I’ve seen a similar scene before.”]

It sounded like Kyiv’s voice.

[“Who... who the hell are you?!”]

The man shouted. A sinister laugh echoed.

[“Even if I told you my name, you wouldn’t know me. And I have no interest in knowing you either. Ah, that reminds me—this was in Europe, wasn’t it? During World War I, a soldier was executing a prisoner by firing squad. That prisoner had the same blank expression... War strips people of their emotions under the guise of justice...”]

It was definitely Kyiv’s voice. At that moment, another gunshot rang out.

[“Die!”]

After two shots, there was the nervous clicking sound of an empty gun. The man had run out of bullets.

[“Why... why won’t you die?!”]

The man’s voice trembled.

[“You don’t need to know why. Even if you did, you’d forget soon enough.”]

[“D-don’t come any closer! Y-you monster!”]

There was a heavy thud, as if something had fallen. The man’s voice disappeared. Shortly after, the cloth bag was lifted from the pit, and the drawstring at the top was untied.

[“You don’t look alright, so I won’t bother asking if you’re okay.”]

Kyiv pulled Al out of the cloth bag. The man had wrapped Al in a plastic sheet to prevent the blood from spilling, but after being shot multiple times, the blood had seeped through the bullet holes, staining the bag red.

They were in the middle of a forest, and next to Al was a hole, just big enough for a person to lie in—it was his grave. Beyond the hole, the man lay face-down on the ground.

The forest was dim and overgrown, but through the trees, Al could see the eastern sky beginning to brighten. Dawn was near.

[“What a mess.”]

Kyiv sighed as he looked down at Al, who was covered in bullet holes, bloodied, and battered.

[“I didn’t know what would happen if an incomplete vampire got injured, but this is bad. You’re hurt just like an ordinary human.”]

Al couldn’t speak, as his vocal cords had been destroyed.

[“It’s like a horror movie. Watching you reminds me just how limited a human body really is.”]

Kyiv crossed his arms with a thoughtful hmm.

[“It’s inconvenient not being able to talk.”]

Muttering, Kyiv dragged the unconscious man lying by the grave over to Al. Without hesitation, Kyiv bared his teeth—his fangs extended like those of a walrus—and sank them deep into the man’s neck before quickly pulling them out. He lifted the man, bringing the dripping blood from the puncture wounds close to Al’s face.

The man’s blood dripped into Al’s mouth, and despite his will, Al’s body absorbed it. As the blood entered, the pain began to subside, like bubbles slowly popping. When the blood flow slowed, Kyiv shook the man slightly to squeeze out more.

As Al’s throat and skin began to heal, Kyiv laid the man face-down on the grass. Al, now on all fours like a dog, latched onto the man’s neck and sucked deeply. He had felt it with Akira before—fresh blood had an overwhelming power. The instant he drank, the pain in his body started to fade.

Al snapped out of his daze when the man’s body began to grow cold. His bones creaked inside him as he moved, reminding him that he wasn’t fully healed yet. Reluctantly, he pulled away from the man.

[“Is that all? You should take more. Your bones aren’t fully healed—listen to that strange noise they’re making.”]

Kyiv tilted his head.

[“That’s enough. He’s about to die.”]

[“This is the guy who riddled you with bullets. He deserves it if he dies.”]

[“It’s fine. I won’t die.”]

Kyiv let out a resigned sigh, then licked the two puncture marks on the man’s neck. The wounds quickly sealed up, leaving no trace of the bite.

Sitting down, Al looked at his suit. The white tuxedo, which the woman had said made him look like a groom, was now riddled with holes and stained dark red. He thought, The costume designer is going to cry..., but then remembered this was his final appearance in a drama. This was probably the last time the suit would be used.

[“How did you know I was here?”]

Kyiv smiled broadly.

[“I was relaxing at the hotel when I got a call from Akira. He said you’d chased after the assailant and hadn’t returned. As much as I’d like to, even I can’t find you without any clues, so I went back to that cemetery. Sure enough, I couldn’t track your scent, but there was an older man there who’d been slashed with a knife. Just a scratch, really. I followed the scent of blood on the knife, and it led me to a small house garage in downtown. The place reeked of your blood, so following the trail after that was easy.”]

Akira had been worried about him. Al had expected it, but hearing it confirmed made him feel a little happy.

[“I’ll ask later why you ended up in such a state, but what should we do with this man? I’ve put him in a deep sleep for now.”]

Kyiv glanced down at the pale-faced man lying beside them.

[“Should I bury him here instead of you?”]

It didn’t sound like a joke, so Al quickly protested, [“N-no, you can’t kill him! Absolutely not!”]

Kyiv leaned in closer.

[“Why are you protecting this man?”] Kyiv asked, his eyes wide with genuine curiosity. [“He did enough to deserve death.”]

Al hesitated, [“But...”]

[“What are you worried about? Being charged with murder? But we’re already considered dead as humans. We won’t be held accountable, and we have no ties to our past human lives... Ah, I forgot, your parents and sister are still alive. But that’s only for another fifty years or so. By then, no one will remember you as a human.”]

Kyiv’s voice was soft and persuasive, but Al shook his head to reject it, though the movement made his bones ache.

[“Even so, I don’t want to kill anyone.”]

Kyiv stared down at Al.

[“I don’t care whether this man lives or dies, but leaving him as he is isn’t a good idea. He’s the type to finish what he started, given the chance. He could easily come after Richard again.”]

[“That’s only because he thinks Richard is responsible for his sister’s suicide. If it weren’t for that, he wouldn’t do something like this...”]

[“So everyone who loses a sibling to suicide tries to kill the person they think is responsible? That’s not how it works.”]

Al recalled what the woman in the garage had said. Just because someone is driven to despair doesn’t mean they choose death or resort to violence. Those who act that way have something unhinged within them.

Al looked up at Kyiv. [“Have you ever killed someone?”]

[“I’ve been alive for hundreds of years.”] Kyiv responded without hesitation.

[“Why did you kill them?”]

[“Some people are better off dead, and others are happier that way. So, I granted them death.”]

Al pondered. Even as a vampire, he was incomplete—his wounds healed slowly unless he drank blood. He was surrounded by humans and lived among them. He couldn’t view things from another perspective like Kyiv did. It was true that, as time passed, everyone around him would die, leaving him alone. Even so, he didn’t want to become someone who decided the life or death of others.

[“I don’t want to kill anyone.”]

Kyiv shrugged.

[“Everyone has their own way of thinking. If that’s what you want, we can let him live. If you don’t want to deal with him yourself, I could take care of it for you.”]

[“No! If you do that, Akira would never forgive me.”]

Kyiv burst into laughter.

[“I know you like Akira, but are you really going to stick to your principles for his sake?”]

Kyiv continued laughing, clearly amused by something. Then, he peered at Al mischievously.

[“If you don’t want him to know, just keep quiet about it.”]

Al’s eyes widened.

[“Akira is human, he doesn’t have clairvoyance. If you don’t say anything, it’s as if it never happened.”]

[“No... I’m terrible at lying.”]

Kyiv’s laughter didn’t stop.

[“You’re an actor, aren’t you? How can you be bad at lying? But fine, I get it. I’ll leave this decision up to you.”]

Al glanced at the man lying on the ground. What should he do? If they left things as they were, the man might target Richard again, or even Martha. He couldn’t allow Akira’s loved ones to be in danger. Yet, he didn’t want to kill him. Taking him to the police wouldn’t work, as Al was officially dead, so reporting the assault would be complicated. The man would likely get out of prison soon if only charged with attacking Richard. Just as Al was about to conclude that there was no other option, an idea struck him. He looked up at Kyiv, who smiled, [“What is it?”]

[“Can you erase his memories?”]

[“Huh? What do you mean?”]

[“Can you erase his memories related to his sister? If his sister’s suicide is the reason he attacked Richard, removing those memories should stop him from doing this again.”]

Kyiv crossed his arms.

[“I can erase his memories... Al, you’re cruel.”]

Hearing that from Kyiv, who had just suggested killing the man, left Al bewildered.

[“But if we do that, he won’t bother anyone anymore.”]

[“True.”] Kyiv nodded. [“If you’re not going to kill him, that’s probably the best option.”]

Kyiv flipped the man over. Even in the dim light, Al could see that the man’s face was pale from blood loss. Kyiv pressed a finger to the man’s forehead, holding it there for just a few seconds before pulling it away.

[“This guy loved his sister like she was his lover.”] Kyiv muttered, having absorbed the man’s memories. He then placed the man in the driver’s seat of the pickup truck and sighed, [“That takes care of it.”]

[“He’s a bit anemic, but he’ll wake up in a few hours. By then, he won’t remember his sister or anything that happened here.”]

A faint electronic sound started to beep. Kyiv pulled out his phone and glanced at the screen. [“It’s Akira.”] He gave Al a knowing look.

[“What do you want to do? Want to tell him yourself that you’re alright?”]

Al nodded and took the phone.

[“Hey, Kyiv. Did you find Al?”]

Akira’s voice was more panicked than usual.

"Yeah, I’m fine."

Al murmured softly, his chest tightening slightly. On the other end of the line, Akira fell silent. Then, after a brief pause, his voice exploded through the phone with a thunderous yell: “You idiot!”

“What do you mean, “I’m fine”?! You chased after a criminal and didn’t contact anyone! Both Dick and I were worried sick, even that drunk was concerned about you!”

“Ah… I’m sorry.”

“You need to stop acting so rashly! Chasing after a man with a knife without anything to defend yourself? That’s reckless! I know you can’t die, but getting hurt still hurts, doesn’t it?!”

“Yeah… it hurts.”

“You idiot!”

Even though Al knew Akira’s words came from concern, the barrage of scolding felt harsh.

“Where are you right now?”

“I don’t know.”

“Kyiv is with you, right? Put him on.”

Al handed the phone back to Kyiv, who spoke with Akira for about a minute before ending the call.

[“Akira’s coming to pick us up. I took a taxi part of the way, but when we reached the unpaved road, the driver refused to go any further, saying it was creepy. So I ran the rest of the way. I could’ve turned into a bat, but, you know, the clothes change is a hassle.”]

[“Did Akira say anything?”]

[“Nothing special, just that he’s on his way. I shared our location with him, so he should be fine, but he said he’ll call again if he gets lost.”]

Al muttered, [“I see…”] and looked down.

[“He scolded you quite fiercely.”]

[“Akira’s just worried about me.”]

Kyiv stroked his chin thoughtfully.

[“Al, is the reason you refuse to drink my blood because of Akira?”]

Al glanced down again.

[“Do you avoid becoming a full vampire because Akira said not to?”]

[“If it made things easier for me, I think Akira would tell me to go ahead.”]

[“Then why not try it?”]

Al shook his head. His head still hurt.

[“If you became a proper vampire, you wouldn’t be a burden on Akira anymore.”] Kyiv continued. [“Are you planning to rely on Akira to give you blood every time you get hurt? That would be tough on him.”]

[“But Akira gives it willingly…”]

[“You don’t need to push him, though. Drinking my blood could make things easier for both of you.”]

[“I’m fine the way I am.”]

[“Why? What are you afraid of? You can never return to being human. You have no choice but to live as a vampire.”]

[“I’m not afraid of becoming a full vampire. I know I can’t go back to being human. But I don’t want to become the real thing.”]

[“Isn’t that just your selfishness, Al?”] Kyiv said firmly. [“Someone like you, stuck between human and vampire, can’t blend in well with humans. One day, your true nature will be exposed, and it’ll cause trouble for other vampires living quietly. To protect yourself and others, you should at least try to become more like a proper vampire, even if you can’t achieve perfection. There’s no excuse not to if it’s possible.”]

Al only knew two vampires: the crazy girl who turned him and Kyiv.

[“When Akira dies… someday, when he dies… I’ll become a full vampire.”]

Kyiv sighed.

[“Why are you so fixated on Akira? Sure, it’s obvious you like him, and he’s kind to you, but…”]

[“Akira’s… complicated.”] Al finally spoke. [“If I become a full vampire and don’t need his help anymore, he’ll push me away. He won’t let me live with him, and he won’t be kind to me. He won’t even sleep in the same bed. If I can live normally, he’ll definitely tell me to find someone else to love. That’s why I need to stay like this—weak and incomplete—so that he’ll always feel like he needs to take care of me.”]

As soon as Al finished speaking, the first rays of sunlight broke through. His whole body grew hot, and he began to transform. His human body changed into that of a bat…

From within the bullet-riddled tuxedo, a small, light-brown bat wriggled its way out. Kyiv gazed down at it, watching silently.

＊ ＊ ＊

Two bodies were brought in early in the morning, so Tsuno teamed up with Muroi to embalm one, while Koyanagi handled the other by himself. Muroi had a sharp intuition and deft, careful hands, so even when assisting, he anticipated what needed to be done before Tsuno had to say anything. The body they worked on had sustained injuries from a traffic accident and had also undergone surgery, which meant the veins were severed in multiple places, making the process more tedious. Despite that, they finished the procedure without much stress.

With his task complete, Tsuno offered to help Koyanagi, but he was politely turned down with, "I’ve just got the makeup left, so it’s fine." With nothing else to do, Tsuno returned to the break room. While he was having coffee, Muroi, who had stayed behind to clean up, joined him.

“I tried to help Koyanagi, but he told me not to bother,” Tsuno said, laughing as he sat on the sofa.

“I offered to help too, but he refused. Koyanagi isn’t as particular as Takatsuka, but he does care about the makeup.”

Muroi gave a vague nod, tilting his head in slight dissatisfaction. Seeing that, Tsuno asked, “What’s wrong?”

“Just between us… don’t you think Koyanagi’s makeup style is a bit outdated?”

“It’s old-fashioned, but he’s perfect when it comes to women in their 40s or older. Especially those who used to work nightlife jobs. Takatsuka’s style is more crisp and clean, though—his personal touch shows through.”

“Supply and demand, I guess…” Muroi muttered, looking unusually serious, which made Tsuno stifle a laugh. Even though he tried to hide it, Muroi seemed to notice and pouted as he plopped down on the sofa across from him.

“…It’s awfully quiet today,” Muroi muttered. The weather was bad, and the rain had been pouring steadily since morning. Although the rain could be heard outside, the break room itself was strangely silent.

“Takatsuka may not talk much, but he’s got a strong presence,” Muroi said, staring intently at the empty desk. Takatsuka, their senior embalmer, had taken a long vacation and gone on a trip to America. When he had requested eight days off, Koyanagi had been shocked. Apparently, this was the first time Takatsuka had taken such a long break since starting his job.

Seeing the almost longing way Muroi was looking at the vacant desk, Tsuno decided to change the subject, “Al isn’t around either.”

“Come to think of it, did Takatsuka leave Al with someone?”

Muroi tilted his head. “Didn’t he take him along?”

“Took the bat to America?”

“Probably. Before the trip, he was checking out different airline websites to see what types of pets could be carried on board.”

“Unbelievable…” Muroi said, astonished. Then, in a serious tone, he added, “Al’s definitely in love with Takatsuka, right?”

“Huh?”

Tsuno couldn’t help but ask for clarification.

“That bat is head over heels for Takatsuka. Every time I talk to him, Al flies over, screeching at me, like ‘Don’t talk to him!’ or ‘Don’t touch him!’ Maybe he thinks he’s human.”

“No way, he’s gotta know he’s a bat. Just the other day, I saw him looking at himself in the mirror.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, he was staring into the mirror, trying to groom his fur with those little claws of his. But he couldn’t quite manage it, so I brushed him out, and he loved it. I get the feeling Takatsuka cares for Al, but when it comes to taking care of him, he’s a bit careless.”

Al had seemed to enjoy the brushing so much that, every once in a while, he’d fly over with a tiny plastic comb clutched in his feet, squeaking for attention. Whenever Tsuno brushed his fur, Al would press his little nose against him in thanks.

When Takatsuka first brought Al to work, Tsuno had been stunned, thinking it had to be some kind of joke. But now, Al had become an adorable presence in the break room—an essential source of comfort. Speaking of idols, Tsuno suddenly remembered something.

“Mind if I turn on the TV?”

“Go ahead,” Muroi shrugged. Before Takatsuka left for his trip, the TV in the break room had been on most of the time, even though no one really watched it. The one who actually paid attention was Al. Takatsuka left the TV on for Al, and to everyone’s surprise, the bat did watch it. He’d even nod along while watching the news.

When Tsuno turned the TV on, an afternoon talk show was airing. As expected, Haruna Kitasato, a gravure idol whose popularity had recently skyrocketed, appeared on screen. Cute with a bit of an airheaded charm, she was exactly Tsuno’s type. He loved gravure idols. Recently, he’d been heartbroken by the death of Yuuka Jinbou, his favorite idol, and had even been at the scene when it happened. The shock of it had cooled his passion for gravure idols for a while, but Haruna Kitasato had reignited it. He was convinced she was going to become a huge star.

This time, Haruna was being interviewed during an on-location shoot for the second season of BLOOD GIRL Mahiro in America. Since the variety show was aired on the same network as Mahiro, it was probably part of the promotion. Watching Haruna shyly answer the interviewer's questions, Tsuno couldn't help but smile.

"Is this the kind of girl you like, Tsuno-san?" Muroi asked, his tone devoid of any real interest.

"Yeah, I guess. She's cute for a newcomer."

"I prefer someone a bit more mature," Muroi said with a smirk, mocking Tsuno ever so slightly. Tsuno frowned, feeling a bit annoyed.

"Okay, then, Muroi-kun. Who’s your type, if we’re talking celebrities?" Tsuno asked, immediately regretting it. He already knew Muroi was gay, and this kind of question was bound to be awkward.

"Me? I don’t really care about celebrities, but if I had to choose, I’d say Hanae Tamura, the actress who was big in Hollywood."

"Ah... that's, uh, pretty sophisticated," Tsuno replied. He knew Muroi had feelings for Takatsuka, but watching it from the sidelines was a bit sad. Muroi’s love was doomed. Takatsuka had a boyfriend, a foreign actor named Kane, and they were madly in love—so much so that they couldn’t bear to be apart, even for a week. Takatsuka had followed Kane overseas while Kane filmed on location. Their love was intense, so much so that they didn’t even care about public displays of affection, whether in the changing room or the break room. Tsuno had, unfortunately, walked in on them being intimate three times now.

Tsuno liked girls, so he couldn’t quite understand being attracted to the same sex. Still, he figured it was just one of those things for some people and didn’t really think much about it. But Takatsuka and Kane were both stunningly handsome, so much so that even Tsuno, with no interest in men, couldn’t help but think, Wow, they’re something else. Muroi was pretty good-looking too, but next to Kane, he just faded into the background.

"Ahh, I hope Takatsuka-san comes back soon. This waiting room feels too big without him," Muroi said, stretching his arms and yawning. "Yeah, I guess," Tsuno replied. He wondered if he should tell Muroi to give up on Takatsuka, but that felt too much like meddling. He dismissed the thought with a mental shake of his head.

On the TV, Haruna Kitasato smiled brightly. Tsuno found himself wondering whether Muroi’s chances with Takatsuka were better or worse than his own chances of dating Haruna—an equally pointless comparison. Just then, Tsuno's stomach let out a loud growl.

"Speaking of which, Haruna loves ramen," Tsuno said, trying to change the subject. Muroi gave him a blank look. "Liking ramen isn’t exactly unique," he replied, mildly exasperated. Geez, couldn’t you just play along a bit?  Tsuno thought irritably and shut his mouth.

"Now that you mention it, though, I kind of want some ramen," Muroi mused, staring at the ceiling.

“There’s a place near the station called ‘Ittetsu’. The ramen there’s great—the homemade chashu is thick and delicious.”

“Huh, never heard of that place,” Muroi said, sitting up straighter.

Tsuno glanced at the clock on the wall. “If we don’t work too late, wanna grab some?”

“Sounds good,” Muroi replied, smiling slightly. He could be a bit cocky and sarcastic, but in moments like this, Tsuno thought he was kind of cute. "By the way, we’re splitting the bill," Tsuno added with a grin.

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