Vampire and His Pleasant Companions: Volume 3 - Part 6

Previous TOC Next

AI always wake up before dawn. Even without setting an alarm, his body just knows it’s time. Slipping out from Akira’s warm side, Al undressed. Completely naked, he knelt on the floor, staring intently at Akira’s long eyelashes as he slept, utterly defenseless.

He had been thinking about Akira before falling asleep. And now, he was thinking about him again as he woke up. He never wanted Akira to die. But what could he do to ensure that? The power a person has to protect another is limited. If they were faced with an overwhelming force, like a sudden earthquake or tornado, the things he cherished could be snatched away in an instant.

If only Akira would become a vampire… If only he would say that he wanted to live together, like Kyiv’s lover did. Even if everyone around them disappeared, and no one remembered him anymore, he would be fine as long as Akira was by his side.

But he couldn’t ask Akira to become a vampire just for him. Akira didn’t hate him. He always looked out for him, and sometimes, he was even kind. But if asked whether Akira loved him in a romantic way, Al wasn’t confident… He doubted Akira felt that way.

Maybe if he were seriously injured… It was harder to get fresh blood in America than it had been in Japan. If he were suffering, Akira wouldn’t be able to just leave him like that. Akira would definitely offer his blood. At that moment, Al would take just a little too much. Enough that Akira’s heart might accidentally stop.

If that happened, it would be an unfortunate accident. Even if Akira became a vampire, he wouldn’t get mad… probably. Well, he’d definitely get mad, but Al had a feeling Akira would forgive him in the end. No matter how angry he got, eventually…

Suddenly, Al realized something. He was an incomplete vampire. What kind of vampire would Akira become if he were turned by someone like him? Maybe he’d become a vampire in an even worse state, like being stuck as a bat all day. Wait, that would just make him a bat, wouldn’t it?

[“If you keep staring like that, Akira’s going to melt, you know.”]

Startled by the teasing voice, Al turned around with a jolt. Kyiv was lounging on the bed on the other side of the room. Al nearly screamed but managed to clamp his hand over his mouth just in time.

[“W-what are you doing here?”]

Al whispered, careful not to wake Akira. Kyiv winked playfully.

[“Vampires can turn into more than just bats, you know. We can become mist too. If there’s even a tiny gap, we can get in anywhere. It’s very convenient, though it seems you didn’t know that. Anyway, I came to talk before you turn into a bat.”]

Akira let out a small groan, "Mmm…" Their conversation might wake him up.

[“…Let’s go to the other room.”]

Al grabbed Kyiv’s arm and quickly left the room. Almost at the same moment, a middle-aged woman peeked out from the room diagonally across the hall.

[“Aah!”]

The woman screamed, her eyes wide, hands trembling. Al hastily covered his crotch and apologized, [“I’m sorry!”] before running to Kyiv’s room at the far end of the second floor. It was a short distance, but when they burst into the room, Al was panting heavily.

Kyiv spread his hands wide, saying, [“Well, that was completely unexpected.”]

[“In all my three hundred years, this is the first time I’ve misread a situation like this. I knew Akira came to America with you all the way from Japan, but I had no idea… I see, so that’s how it is.”]

Kyiv seemed to have reached a conclusion on his own, but Al shook his head vigorously.

[“He’s not my lover!”]

[“Then why were you naked? And the other bed was untouched, perfectly clean.”]

[“That’s because… well, we slept together. But it was just sleeping, nothing more.”]

Kyiv’s expression softened into one of gentle understanding.

[“Al, there’s nothing to hide. Even among vampires, there are those who are gay and prefer the same sex. I didn’t think you were like that, but it’s not surprising.”]

[“We really didn’t do anything. I was naked because I’m about to turn into a bat. If I kept my clothes on, cleaning up afterward would be a hassle.”]

Kyiv made a noncommittal sound, but his expression clearly showed he didn’t believe a word of it.

[“Whether you had sex or not, it seems you’re in love with Akira, aren’t you?”]

Al lowered his head, intertwining his fingers tightly.

[“I’m not… I didn’t think I was gay, but Akira is special. And it’s a one-sided crush. Akira isn’t gay.”]

[“Does he have a girlfriend?”]

[“No… He said he’s not good with living things.”]

Suddenly, Kyiv’s shoulders began to shake with laughter.

[“And he’s an embalmer? Akira’s simpler than I thought. You’re perfect for him—alive, but not living, as a vampire.”]

Suddenly, Al’s body began to heat up intensely. The transformation was beginning.

[“If he’s not good with the living, then maybe, on the flip side, it means he’s afraid of death?”]

Al tried to argue that it wasn’t the case, but his vocal cords were already changing, and he could no longer speak. In just a few seconds, Al had turned into a bat. He squeaked on the floor, and Kyiv offered his right hand. Al hopped onto his palm, and their eyes met.

[“A body that doesn’t obey your will and is subject to time… that’s inconvenient, isn’t it?”]

Kyiv gently stroked Al’s back, his expression full of genuine sympathy.”]

:-::-:

Al had been told by Akira that they would leave the motel around ten o'clock, so in the meantime, he flew back to his family home in his bat form. He thought it might be too early in the morning, but his father was leisurely strolling through the neatly trimmed lawn, while his mother was sweeping fallen leaves from the garden tree by the fence with a broom. Al perched on top of a hanging basket under the eaves and gazed intently at his parents. Though he couldn't stay by their side, he spoke to them silently in his heart: I’ll always be watching over you...

Before long, his sister called, and his parents went back inside the house. It was probably time for breakfast. Al moved to the kitchen window to take a peek inside and saw five people sitting around the table, starting their meal. His nephew, Al, was spilling cereal all over the table, giving Sara a hard time.

While eating with a distracted gaze, young Al noticed bat Al, and their eyes met. The young Al pointed at him, saying, [“Huh?”], and suddenly, everyone’s attention was focused on the bat. Feeling the pressure of ten pairs of eyes on him, Al froze on the spot. The young Al jumped down from his chair and opened the window.

The young Al tried to catch bat Al by hopping up and down, but being small, he couldn’t reach. Just then, Sara’s husband casually picked up Al.

"Squeak!" 

Startled, Al let out a cry. He had been so preoccupied with young Al that he hadn’t noticed the adults.

[“Dear, leave that bat alone.”] 

Sara frowned.

[“But this bat is quite docile. Al, try touching it gently.”] 

A small hand reached out and gave Al’s head a few rough pats, as he was still clutched in Sara’s husband’s hand.

[“That’s enough, now. Finish your breakfast properly.”] 

Sara’s husband opened his hand, perhaps expecting Al to fly outside. But instead, overwhelmed by the desire to see the home where he grew up, Al headed deeper into the house. He flew out of the kitchen, down the hallway, and circled around the living room. Sara chased after him, opening the living room window wide, as if to tell him to leave.

On the living room board, there were many framed photographs. Among them, one stood out—it was twice the size of the others. Realizing that it was the letter he had written yesterday, framed and displayed proudly, Al’s heart nearly burst with joy.

He flew out through the window. After circling the roof twice, he returned to the motel. All the while, Al sobbed uncontrollably, tears and snot running down his face as he wailed, "squeak-squeak!"

:-::-:

Al had accomplished the biggest goal of this trip: seeing his family. Everyone was doing well, and he even learned that his adorable nephew had been born, which made his return home deeply satisfying. 

All that remained was the filming of the drama. Since the shoot was scheduled for tomorrow night, they had to return from Nebraska to Chicago by the end of today. 

The weather was nice, there were hardly any cars in the opposite lane, and the scenery was endlessly the same. No matter how far they drove, it was just pastures and cattle, mile after mile. Yesterday, Al had thought, "This might be the last time I see the countryside," and had tried to focus on imprinting the scenery in his mind, but by now, it had grown tiresome. 

From the car radio, a slow country song was playing... or so it seemed until it suddenly switched to rock. Akira's frown deepened as a vertical crease formed between his eyebrows. 

[“Hey, Kyiv. Stop changing the channels so often. It’s annoying.”] 

[“Oh, sorry. I just can’t seem to find one I like.”] 

Despite apologizing, Kyiv continued to flip through the stations casually. Finally, his finger stopped when he found something to his liking. It was a local program that endlessly broadcast regional information. 

In the end, Kyiv had been with them the whole time since yesterday. Since Akira didn’t seem keen on talking to him, there was little conversation between them. The local radio station had more personality than Kyiv did. 

A gas station sign appeared in the distance. Akira glanced at the fuel gauge and turned on the blinker. It was an old station, with a rusty pump and an auto repair shop. It wasn’t self-service, and even though they parked the car next to what seemed like an office by the repair shop, no one came out. 

Akira clicked his tongue, got out of the car, and headed for the office. He returned shortly after with an angry expression. 

[“I can’t believe there’s no one here.”] 

[“Maybe they’re in the restroom?”] Kyiv replied, completely unfazed. 

[“I have to fill up around here. I don’t remember seeing any other gas stations past this point. How long do they expect us to wait?”] 

While Akira muttered complaints under his breath, a middle-aged man finally appeared from across the road. His curly hair and surly demeanor practically screamed, "I don’t want to be doing this job." His lips were pursed in discontent. 

The standoff between the grumpy man and Akira ended as soon as the gas tank was full. Just as Akira was about to start the engine, Kyiv spoke up. 

[“Shall I drive?”] 

[“I’ve made you drive this whole time since yesterday. Al can’t drive since he’s a bat, but I’m actually pretty good at it.”] 

Akira narrowed one eye. 

[“Do you even have a license?”] 

[“That’s not an issue.”] 

Without a word, Akira got out of the car. Kyiv, delighted, walked around to the driver’s seat. It seemed he had been itching to take the wheel. 

Kyiv’s driving, however, was the opposite of his gentle appearance—it was reckless. The car shook like a broken washing machine, and with every hard press of the gas pedal, the speed climbed to frightening levels. The scenery blurred as it flew by. 

[“Hey, slow down. You’re speeding.”] 

No matter how many times Akira warned him, Kyiv just smiled, saying, [“It’s fine, it’s fine.”] and ignored him. 

[“Driving like this reminds me of the days I used to ride horses. Taking care of living creatures is tough, but cars are great. They don’t need much care, and you can go this fast.”] 

[“I don’t care about your outdated nostalgia! Just slow down! What if we crash?!”] Akira yelled. 

[“Even if we crash... Ah, right, I forgot you’re a normal human, Akira.”] 

[“Stop assuming everything based on yourself! Most people in the world are normal humans!”] 

At that moment, a wailing sound joined the conversation. Al had heard that sound plenty of times—the siren. Akira looked back and clicked his tongue. 

The highway patrol, with flashing lights, was following them at a distance. 

[“Damn it, pull over.”] Akira grumbled, and Kyiv obediently pulled the car to the side of the road. A uniformed officer stepped out of the police car. He was about fifty, tall, with a bald head, a mustache, and a large, stocky build. His eyes were hidden behind sunglasses. 

Kyiv rolled down the side window. 

[“You seem to be in quite a hurry.”] The officer's voice was cool. 

[“Actually, my mother is critically ill...”] Kyiv lowered his eyes in a show of regret and lied without hesitation. 

[“At this rate, you’ll end up in the afterlife before seeing her. Do you have any idea how fast you were going? Let me see your license.”] 

Kyiv turned to Akira. 

[“Let me see your license.”] 

Holding out his hand, Akira's eyes widened in surprise. 

[“My license...?”] 

Kyiv leaned in closer and whispered into Akira's ear. 

[“...Let me borrow yours. I’ll handle the rest.”] 

Kyiv winked with a snap. Akira, still looking unconvinced, pulled out his international driver’s license from his bag and handed it to Kyiv. 

Kyiv passed the license to the officer, who frowned suspiciously when he looked at it. 

[“Is this really your license?”] 

[“Yes, it is.”] 

The moment the officer took the license, Kyiv grabbed his wrist and yanked him halfway into the car. Caught off guard, the officer leaned in through the open window, and Kyiv touched his forehead with his index finger. 

The officer’s face relaxed as his tension and anxiety melted away. As soon as Kyiv let go, the officer slowly pulled back, handed the license back without a word, and walked back to his police car before driving off. 

Kyiv handed the license back to the dumbfounded Akira. 

[“Here you go.”] 

[“...What was that?”] 

[“What do you mean?”] 

[“Why did that officer leave without saying anything?”] 

[“I think he just got tired of dealing with us.”] 

Feigning innocence, Kyiv shrugged, but Akira grabbed his jacket and shook him. 

[“That’s impossible! What did you do to that guy? Now that I think about it, during yesterday’s robbery, you said something weird about people not waking up unless someone touched them. Can you use some kind of bizarre hypnosis?!”] 

Kyiv glanced at Al, perched on Akira’s shoulder, then sighed. 

[“I just tweaked his memory a bit. I made sure that officer "didn’t see" our speeding.”] 

[“Tweaked his memory...?”] Akira repeated in disbelief. 

[“We vampires can erase or rewrite human memories. Ever wonder why, despite vampires living for centuries, their existence isn’t common knowledge? It’s thanks to this ability.”] 

But Kyiv added, 

[“Still, we usually only use it when erasing the memories of people close to us. It’s a hassle since it only works on one person at a time.”] 

Akira stared silently ahead through the windshield, lost in thought. 

[“Do you even have a driver’s license?”] 

[“No, I don’t. I don’t need one, either.”] 

Kyiv smiled brightly. 

[“Then get in the passenger seat.”] 

[“Even without a license, I can still drive, you know.”] 

[“I don’t care about that! It’s bad enough you drive so recklessly without a license. Move!”] 

Yelled at by Akira, Kyiv reluctantly got out of the driver’s seat and moved to the passenger side. Akira let out a small sigh as he took the wheel and started the car. Compared to the high speed they had been going earlier, Akira’s driving felt like a leisurely stroll. 

“Hey, Al.” 

Perched on Akira’s shoulder, Al lifted his head and chirped, squeak? (What?). There was something chilling about the way Akira called his name. 

“...Can you do it too? That memory manipulation thing.” 

Al, feeling Akira’s sharp gaze on him, shook his head vigorously. 

“Why can’t you? You’re a vampire too, aren’t you?” 

Honestly, Al didn’t know. He knew Kyiv could do it, but he had never tried it himself. He had never felt like he could, nor had he ever needed to, since he didn’t interact with people much. 

[“Kyiv, can he do memory manipulation?”] 

Not trusting Al, Akira even asked Kyiv. 

[“He should be able to, I think.”] 

[“Kyiv says you can do it. Have you used it on me? I’ve been feeling weird lately, now that I think about it.”] 

That was a false accusation. Al felt sad at Akira’s suspicious tone, jumping to conclusions. He would never manipulate Akira’s memories. If he could, he’d use it to make Akira be nicer to him. Al chirped in protest, squeak! Squeak! (I didn’t do anything!)

Kyiv, who had been watching the exchange, interjected. 

[“How about we test it then?”] 

[“Test it?”] 

[“Let’s see if Al can actually manipulate memories. I’ll judge the result.”] 

[“Test it? He’s a bat right now.”] Akira said, looking displeased. 

[“It’s fine, even as a bat. He just needs to touch your forehead, but his claws might sting a little.”] 

Reluctantly, Akira agreed, clearly curious. Since it was dangerous to do this while driving, he pulled over to the side of the road. Kyiv explained the process while wiggling his right index finger. 

[“Akira, tell me what you had for breakfast this morning. After Al tries his memory manipulation, I’ll ask you again. If you can recall everything just the same, Al can’t do it. If something’s missing, then it means he can.”] 

[“Why do I have to use my precious memories for some weird experiment?”] Akira complained. 

[“Considering an average lifespan of about 80 years, you’ll eat breakfast around 29,200 times in your life. Losing one won’t be that big of a deal.”] 

Akira’s lips tightened in annoyance, but he grabbed Al by the back. 

[“Alright, just this once.”] 

Al had no interest in memory manipulation, but under Akira’s pressure, he nodded. Akira grumbled his breakfast menu, and Al placed his claw on Akira’s forehead—actually, he pressed his whole body against it. Ugh, this is uncomfortable, Al thought as he halfheartedly chanted, “Disappear, disappear.” Suddenly, a clear image of breakfast appeared in his mind: bagel, scrambled eggs, butter, coffee, and ice cream. When Al thought “Disappear,” the scrambled eggs popped out of the image, while the rest remained. No matter how much he wished for the others to disappear, they didn’t. Eventually, Akira stopped pressing him against his forehead. 

[“Well? Did you try the memory manipulation?”] 

Al nodded reluctantly. 

[“Alright, Akira, say what you ate again.”] 

Akira listed his breakfast, but his expression gradually darkened. 

[“Hey, nothing’s missing! Did you really do it?”] 

Kyiv and Al exchanged glances. 

[“Akira, Al did use memory manipulation.”] 

[“...What?”] 

[“Of the five things you ate, one is gone—scrambled eggs. Whether he only erased one or couldn’t erase the others, I don’t know, but probably the latter. It’s pretty hard to erase specific memories.”] 

Still held by Akira, Al nodded vigorously at Kyiv’s explanation. 

[“So, the conclusion is that Al can do memory manipulation. He just erased one out of five, so it’s not perfect. Practically speaking, it’s almost useless, about as reliable as human forgetfulness.”] 

Relieved that the misunderstanding about secretly manipulating memories was cleared up, Al realized something—if his power worked one out of five times, then maybe if he told Akira to “like me” five times, one of them would actually work and... 

“Hey, Al.” 

Al shuddered and looked up at Akira. 

“You’re not planning on using that half-baked power for anything sneaky, are you?” 

It was as if Akira could see right into his thoughts, and Al shook his head desperately, breaking into a cold sweat. 

“If you try anything funny, I’ll never forgive you!” 

[“You two are speaking Japanese again. I can’t understand what you’re saying.”] 

[“It’s personal. You don’t need to know.”] Akira snapped back, practically baring his teeth at Kyiv. 

Kyiv shrugged, looking exasperated. 

[“What’s the big deal about losing a memory or two? Most of them fade away over time anyway.”] 

[“That’s not the point!”] 

Akira tightened his grip on Al so much that it seemed like he might crush him, yelling at the top of his lungs.

:-::-:

They arrived at the airport just after 2 p.m. Akira had booked a flight for 3 p.m., but there was an announcement that the previous flight had been delayed, causing their flight to be delayed by an hour as well.

Akira sat down in a chair in the waiting room. Kyiv wandered around aimlessly, and when he spotted a young, flashy-looking girl, he immediately struck up a conversation, chatting happily.

Akira, meanwhile, dozed off. The gentle swaying of Akira's body felt comforting, and Al, perched on his shoulder, let out a small yawn. Just as he was about to drift off into a peaceful sleep, a jolt shot through Al’s body.

He was grabbed with such force that it felt like his bones might break. He was swung around violently, the world spinning in a blur.

"Squeak-squeak-squeak!" 

Al screamed and bit down on the hand that was crushing him.

[“Ow!”] 

The grip loosened, and a dizzy Al fluttered unsteadily through the air like a drunken bird. He was grabbed again, and though he reflexively bit the hand once more, this time it didn’t let go.

"Hey, Al!" 

Recognizing Akira’s voice, Al quickly stopped biting. Nearby, he could hear the sound of a child crying, [“Waaah, waaah!”]. A boy, about five years old, was sitting on the ground next to the chairs, bawling.

[“Are you alright?”] 

Akira asked, and the child looked up. Thankfully, the bite hadn’t drawn blood from the boy’s hand, and Akira felt relieved. A woman, who seemed to be the boy’s mother, came running over. The child, who had been calming down, started crying loudly again.

[“What did you do to my child?!”] 

The woman, likely in her late twenties, glared at Akira.

[“Your child tried to mess with my bat, which startled it into biting him. It wasn’t intentional, and I ask for your understanding.”] 

[“Why are you letting such a dangerous bat roam free?!”] 

The mother’s voice rose, causing Akira’s brow to twitch.

[“I’m sorry about the bite, but this bat is usually calm. Humans get scared when they’re suddenly swung around, right? Bats are the same.”] 

[“My child was hurt! You need to take responsibility!”] 

The mother clenched her fists.

[“Let me ask you this: if this bat were injured because your child touched it carelessly, would you take responsibility? Small animals aren’t like people. Their bones are fragile.”] 

The mother hesitated for a moment but then spat out, [“What are you talking about? It’s just a bat!”]. Akira’s expression clearly showed his rising frustration.

[“Just a bat?! I’m not saying the bat isn’t at fault for biting, but your child is also responsible for touching someone else’s animal without permission.”] 

[“Responsibility? He’s only five years old!”] 

[“If he’s too young to take responsibility, then you, as his parent, should have been watching him more closely.”]

The two began shouting at each other, oblivious to the stares from the other passengers around them. Eventually, an airport employee arrived, and they resolved the issue by agreeing to place Al in the cargo hold instead of the cabin. However, since they hadn’t prepared a birdcage or anything similar, Al was placed in a cloth bag and sent to the cargo hold.

Along with the other luggage, Al waited in the bag to board the plane. Inside the cloth bag, it was dark, and there was nothing to do but sit still and try to sleep.

That kid had been a handful, but Al was happy that Akira had defended him completely. Akira was always on his side. Feeling a little better, Al closed his eyes quietly.

:-::-:

His body gradually began to feel warm, and suddenly, Al awoke. It was pitch dark around him, and he was surrounded by a loud roaring sound. When he tried to move his wings, he felt the cloth tangling around his body. On top of that, there was the distinct smell of oil. He realized he was still in the cargo hold of the airplane.

Without a watch, he couldn’t tell the exact time, but he had a bad feeling. According to the plan, they were supposed to arrive in Chicago before sunset. He already knew from the waiting room that their flight had been delayed by an hour, but it seemed they were delayed even further. His body was getting increasingly hotter, and that familiar sensation was coming over him—his claws were starting to turn into five human fingers. Transforming into a human in the cargo hold of a plane was the worst possible scenario. But once the transformation started, there was no stopping it.

Al tore through the cloth bag and emerged, now in human form. In the pitch-black cargo hold, he was completely naked, feeling utterly helpless. If the plane landed in Chicago and the staff found him in this state, they’d definitely report him, and he’d be arrested. What would the charge be? Public indecency? Or maybe sneaking onto the plane?

In the darkness, he groped around for Akira’s bag. Fortunately, it was on top of a suitcase, so he found it relatively quickly. After putting on some clothes, at least he could avoid being labeled a “naked pervert.”

Sitting on the suitcase, Al sighed. The problem now was how to get out of the cargo hold. Being stuck in human form was something he couldn’t help. If he apologized and offered to pay for the plane ticket, would they let him off with a warning? No, they’d definitely call the police.

...Akira should have noticed by now. Maybe he’s thinking of a way to help. But then, Al realized something—Akira was just a normal human. He wasn’t Superman. Even if Akira wanted to help, there might be nothing he could do.

What about Kyiv? Maybe Kyiv could help, like manipulating the baggage handler’s memory. It was a good idea, Al thought, but how would he ask Kyiv to do it? Without any communication devices in his current situation, it seemed impossible.

Al’s mind raced as he thought through the situation. As he pondered, his hand brushed against something. It was the large, old-fashioned suitcase he had been sitting on.

With no way to know the time, he had no idea when the plane would land, or when the cargo hold door would open.

...There was no time to waste.

Previous TOC Next

Comments

Popular Posts

The Eyes of a Child: Chapter 01

The Eyes of a Child

The Eyes of a Child: Chapter 08