Vampire and His Pleasant Companions: Volume 6 - Part 7
The café walls were a dull brown,
like coffee stains had soaked in over the years, and the air inside was thick
with a rich, roasted aroma. It was dimly lit, small—just five tables and a
counter. The shop’s hours were from 7 a.m. to 5 p.m., and since it was now
after 7 in the evening, it was closed to customers. Hatono’s grandfather owned
the place, and they’d gotten special permission to use it for their strategy
meeting after Hatono and Kanezaki finished their shift at the embalming center.
"Coffee’s free," Hatono
said.
But coffee still took time, effort,
and ingredients to prepare. The grandfather, seemingly doting on his grandchild,
had smiled the whole time, and after making a café au lait for Hatono and a
special blend for Kanezaki, he left the room, saying, "Take your
time."
That kind of quiet kindness, making
sure they didn’t feel like a burden, only made Al feel even more sorry. In
front of him sat a glass of water. Human food and drink meant nothing to him
anymore, and wasting something that cost money felt wrong. So when asked, he
had said, "Me… water is good," turning down anything expensive.
The three of them gathered at a
four-seater by the window—Al and Kanezaki sat side-by-side, with Hatono across
from them.
"In order for Takatsuka-san to
be released, we have no choice but to capture Yonekura. That means we must
locate him as soon as possible—down to the second," Hatono declared right
away.
"However, as of now, we have no
leads."
Hatono declared it with a refreshing
clarity, like slicing through fog. Kanezaki shrugged and added, "I tried
searching too, but nothing came up."
Al then shared what had happened
earlier that evening near the facility, including what Emiri had told him about
the "princess."
"A friend who’s a princess,
huh," Hatono murmured, pressing her fingers to her chin as if deep in
thought.
"If Yonekura wasn’t lying, then
it might really be someone he knows."
"There’s only so many
situations where a woman would wear a dress and a tiara. A wedding,
maybe?" Kanezaki seemed to agree with Al’s hunch.
"No—if she looked like a bride,
the girl would’ve said 'bride.' The fact that she clearly called her a
'princess' stands out. If she regularly dresses in something that flamboyant,
maybe she works in a job like that. Could she be… a hostess?"
Kanezaki blinked, his gaze drifting
diagonally upward.
"What’s a hostess?" Al
asked.
Hatono explained that it was someone
who works at a bar where they sit beside male customers, drink with them, chat,
and get paid for it.
Al didn’t really get it. They didn’t
have places like that in America. Why would someone pay just to talk to a
pretty girl?
"The glass cat might be part of
the décor," Hatono added. "Let’s try searching for hostess clubs with
glass cats, pink tiaras, and dresses. If we find someone who looks like the
'princess' in question, we can go through her past posts, photos, and get a
better idea of who she is."
The way Hatono-san spoke—crisp and
methodical—he sounded almost like a schoolteacher.
"Umm," apparently picking
up on that same energy, Kanezaki raised his hand slightly, like a student in
class.
"I don’t think we need to go
that deep. If we find the person, couldn’t we just ask directly, ‘Do you know
Yonekura?’"
Hatono gave a quiet snort through
her nose.
"We don’t know yet if this
‘princess’ is Yonekura’s ally or enemy. At the very least, I’d like to figure
that out before we approach her."
Hatono then created a shared
cloud-based bulletin board.
"I’ll handle browser searches.
Zacky, you check X and Instagram. Let’s post anything interesting we find to
the board, and compare notes later."
The two began gathering information,
switching between their phones and laptops.
Al, meanwhile, had little experience
with social media. He didn’t even have an account. Still, he wanted to
help—anything at all—so he began furiously searching images on the phone that
had just come back from Kyushu this morning. His vampire brain felt like it was
going to overheat, but this didn’t count as real suffering. And having people
nearby who shared his drive to save Akira—it filled him with overwhelming
gratitude.
Hatono and Kanezaki steadily posted
links and screenshots to the board.
About thirty minutes had passed when
Hatono quietly muttered, "I’m hungry."
"I go buy food," Al said,
springing to his feet. If he couldn’t be helpful in the information search, he
could at least move his body to help.
"That would be great. I’m not
picky, so anything’s fine," Hatono replied.
Just as Al was about to leave,
Kanezaki got up too, saying, "I’ll come with you~."
"I okay go alone."
"I’ve got something I want to
get too~," Kanezaki said, trailing after him.
Behind them, Hatono was glaring at
Kanezaki’s broad, muscular back as if to say Don’t you dare slack off,
but Kanezaki, unaware of the look, gave Al a friendly push and exited the café
with him.
The convenience store was just a
short walk away, the sign visible from the door. Yesterday it had rained.
Today, the sky had been covered in dull gray clouds since morning, making the
air feel damp and heavy, but at least the rain was holding off.
“I’ve got no problem helping out
with Takatsuka-san’s case,” Kanezaki began the moment Hatono was out of sight.
“But honestly, I’m not great with Hatono-san.”
Al didn’t know how to respond. That
kind of complaint wasn’t something he could do anything about.
"Everyone help... I
happy," Al said. And he meant it. Every word.
"Sure, Hatono talks politely,
but his personality’s kinda sharp. At first, I thought since we’re the same
sex, I wouldn’t have to be too careful around him—but with Hatono-san, it
doesn’t feel like we’re both guys."
The words “same sex” and “both guys”
caught Al’s attention.
"Hatono-san... not man."
Kanezaki spun around, eyes wide.
"Hatono-san is a man. Did you
think he was a woman?"
It felt like being hit in the head
with a hammer.
"Hatono-san... man? Lie. That
lie."
"It’s not a lie. Ask him when
we get back to the café. Sure, his hair’s long, voice is kinda high, and he
dresses kinda androgynous, but seriously—he’s a dude."
Still in a daze, he picked out three
sandwiches, choosing ones that resembled the kind Hatono had eaten for
breakfast. When he looked around and didn’t see Kanezaki, he found him in the
snacks aisle. His basket was piled high with sweets. Maybe he was planning to
eat only snacks for dinner? Noticing Al’s gaze, Kanezaki awkwardly hid the
basket behind his back.
“...Sorry, I really like sweets,” he
muttered, looking sheepish.
There was no need to apologize, but
he looked down as if embarrassed and carried his overflowing basket to the
register. As the clerk scanned each item—beep, beep—Kanezaki, standing
in front of Al in line, suddenly said, “I’m actually a returnee kid, you know.”
“Returnee… girl?”
“No, not joshi. Jishi.
I mean, I lived in the UK from age seven to fifteen.”
Hearing that he’d lived in England
made Al think, So that’s where that preppy outfit came from. It made
perfect sense.
"People always say being a
returnee must be great, since you’re fluent in English, but honestly? I
couldn’t wait to come back to Japan. Whenever I visited and had Japanese
snacks, they were so delicious I’d nearly cry."
When Al had come to Japan, he was
already a vampire, so he didn’t know how delicious Japanese snacks were. That
felt like a bit of a loss.
“And yeah, there was also the racism
toward Asians. That’s actually why I started working out—bulked up so people
wouldn’t try anything. Once I got jacked, the harassment pretty much stopped.”
So Kanezaki’s built-up muscles were
a kind of defense, Al thought, glancing at the man’s thick, well-developed
arms, visible even through his shirt.
"The outside world was
exhausting, so I just stayed in and gamed all the time. I still love gaming. Do
you play games, Kane-san?"
"Not really…" Al replied.
He’d played a little when he was a
kid. But he’d been so bad that his friends had made fun of him, and ever since
then, he’d grown to hate it and never touched games again.
“Ah, so you’re the outdoorsy type. I
mean, you do give off that sunny vibe.”
Al understood that sunny vibe
meant someone cheerful or outgoing. He probably didn’t fall on the gloomy side,
sure. He’d always pictured Kanezaki as a timid but stylish musclehead, but
maybe his interests were broader than expected.
When they returned to the café, Al
handed Hatono the sandwich, and he looked genuinely pleased. “I really like
this kind,” he said, smiling. Looking at him, he still looked entirely like a
woman. Was he really a man?
Even while eating, Hatono didn’t
pause—he nibbled on the sandwich in his left hand while scrolling through his
phone with his right. His dedication to not wasting even a second was
impressive. Across from him, Kanezaki silently tossed his snacks into his
mouth, one after another, without so much as a word..
“Creepy.”
Hatono muttered the word, and Kanezaki’s
hand stopped mid-motion.
“The way you eat—so stiff and
mechanical—it’s kinda scary.”
Al had also thought, just a little,
that Kanezaki’s rhythmically steady munching looked robotic.
“Even if one of my meals is just
snacks, I still get the nutrition I need.”
Clearly, Kanezaki was more concerned
about what he was eating than how he ate it.
“It’s creepy because you eat so
regularly, and with no expression. When I was in elementary school, we had a
field trip where we watched silkworms eat mulberry leaves. You look just like
that.”
“Who cares how I eat?”
Kanezaki pouted but kept crunching
through his snacks without pause.
“I know I’m a little different from
most people, but you’re just as bad, Zacky. In that workplace, the only one who
seems socially functional enough for the real world is probably Matsumura-san.”
That was just Hatono’s personal
opinion, and Al didn’t disagree that Akira lacked social grace—but Akira wasn’t
here to defend himself.
“Koyanagi... good person.”
In response to Al’s quiet protest,
Hatono replied without looking up from their scrolling, “Koyanagi-san’s
overbearing love for his family makes him difficult to deal with.”
To Al, love—any love—was something
that couldn’t be too much. Disliking someone for having too much love
felt unfair, no matter how you sliced it.
After finishing their food, the
group moved on to comparing the data they had collected—and quickly, the woman
known as “the princess” was identified. The decorative glass cat had been the
key clue, leading them to a hostess club called HIMEGIMI (“Princess”),
and after carefully scrolling through the club’s Instagram and website history,
they found a woman in a pink tiara and matching dress.
“We can confirm that the ‘princess’
uses the stage name Ayane.”
Hatono pressed a thoughtful finger
to their chin.
“The website is obviously curated
for clients, so the posts are all pretty tame. There are a lot of comments that
appear to be from male customers, but whether any of them are from Yonekura
isn’t clear. Zacky, what’s your take?”
“Her personal account on X is full
of alcohol bottle shots and selfies… seems like pure promotion.”
“If we assume Yonekura wasn’t lying
when he said they were friends, then it’s possible she’s either a longtime
acquaintance… or his actual girlfriend. Either way, we’re not going to get any
more from public info. I’ll try messaging her directly from my account.”
Hatono’s voice turned noticeably
more polite as he dictated, “I’m sorry for the sudden message, but do you
happen to know a man named Kaito Yonekura?”
What’s going on? Who is he talking
to all of a sudden?
Al was briefly confused—until he realized Hatono was using voice input.
A moment later, Hatono let out a
quiet, “Oh!”
“She followed me instantly and sent
a message,” he reported, placing his phone on the table, showing the message: Who
are you? Written all in hiragana, even Al could read it.
“I have some questions for
Yonekura-san and I’m currently trying to locate him,” Hatono dictated. The
words appeared on the screen, and he sent the message.
A response came back immediately: I
said, who the hell are you?
Whoever it was, they were clearly
staring at their phone, replying in real time.
“With this speed and tone, she’s
clearly on guard. Understandably so. Let’s try baiting her a little.”
Muttering to himself, Hatono
dictated his next message: “Are you currently in a relationship Yonekura-san?”
We broke up already!
The reply came back with lightning
speed. Apparently, this hostess—Ayane—was Yonekura’s ex.
Kanezaki, resting his cheek on his
hand, muttered, “Judging by her reaction, it didn’t end peacefully. Smells like
money trouble, or maybe cheating.” He sniffed dramatically through his nose.
"Do you happen to have some
kind of financial trouble with Yonekura-san?" Hatono typed, straight to
the point.
That guy ditched me without paying
child support, came
the reply, and Kanezaki threw up both hands.
"What this part mean?" Al
asked, pointing to the message.
"Yonekura apparently
disappeared without paying child support," Hatono explained calmly.
"There are different arrangements, but generally, child support refers to
money that one parent pays to the other after divorce to cover the child’s living
expenses."
Al nodded with an "Ohh,"
but then suddenly gasped as realization hit him—there can't be child support
without a child.
"So Yonekura... was
married!" he blurted out, startled.
Hatono calmly answered, "Sounds
like they’re divorced now."
"Or maybe he just acknowledged
the kid without marrying," Kanezaki added.
Either way, it meant that Yonekura
had a child with someone, and whether or not they were married, he had skipped
out on his obligation and vanished—which, unless there was someone else with
the exact same name and age, was damning.
If he really disappeared, then that
woman probably didn’t know his current whereabouts either, but if she had once
been his girlfriend or wife, she might remember places he liked to go or people
he stayed in touch with.
"Me... wanna meet her. Ask
things," Al said with resolve.
Hatono tilted his head, thinking
aloud with a soft hum, “We’d like to ask you some things about Yonekura-san.
Would you be willing to meet once?”
Unlike her earlier rapid-fire
responses, this time, Ayane took longer to reply.
“I’m happy to meet at your
convenience, and I can go anywhere you prefer,” Hatono added.
Finally, a reply came:
I looked at your old posts. All your
food pics are huge portions. Are you… a guy?
"Yes," Hatono replied.
Immediately: Gross. Gross gross
gross.
You were so polite, I thought you
were a girl. Too creepy. I can’t deal with this.
A cascade of furious messages
followed, and Hatono quietly sighed and shook his head. "She blocked me. I
wasn’t trying to pretend to be a woman—I just thought sounding polite would
make her feel safer."
They shrugged a little. Al
understood what blocking meant—getting cut off so you couldn’t see anything
from the other person anymore.
"I’ll check her profile from my
account," Kanezaki offered, pulling out his own phone and opening Ayane’s
page.
Some guy pretending to be a girl
messaged me asking to meet up. So creepy~
The tone of her public post was
completely different from the one-on-one messages; here, she was styling
herself like a fragile, innocent girl.
So gross. Even if he follows me
again, I’m not following back for a while. Sorry, she wrote, and the replies from what seemed
like other women’s accounts piled in—“Be careful,” and “That’s
terrifying.”
"I’ll give it some time, then
try following her again from my backup account," Hatono said, composed as
ever. "I’ll pretend to be a woman. She probably won’t be as cautious
then."
Just when it felt like they were
finally closing in on something, the opportunity slipped through their fingers.
Yonekura’s acquaintance had blocked them, and since it was already past 9 p.m.,
they called it a night for now.
As Al sat slumped, disheartened,
Hatono said, “I’ll come up with another strategy,” in a voice meant to reassure
him. Harsh and bold as he could be, at his core, Hatono was kind and
considerate.
That night, Al reported to Nukariya
that they’d found the account belonging to Yonekura’s ex-girlfriend. The
message was quickly marked as read, and a reply came back almost immediately: "Thanks
for the solid lead. I’ll look into it from my side too."
The next day, just after noon, Kanezaki
sent a voice message: "We found Yonekura’s ex’s address! I’ll explain more
later." Al couldn’t help but wonder—how?
That evening, after six o’clock,
when Al arrived at Hatono’s grandfather’s café, the other two were already
there. Kanezaki, beaming, greeted him with a cheerful, "Kane-san, we found
the ex’s place—look!" and held up a photo of a three-story apartment
building.
"How did you find house?"
Al asked, unable to hold back.
With a smug lift of his chin, Kanezaki
explained, “I found her alt account. I was checking the guys who follow her
main account, and one of them posted a picture that matched a makeup box she’d
shown on her Instagram. Exactly the same stuff. So that confirmed it was her
alt. On that account, she’d posted a bunch of photos that looked like they were
near her place. I used the background in those to figure out the direction and
orientation of nearby buildings—and I think this is it.”
The apartment was in Kanagawa, right
next to Tokyo. The town was coastal, and when Hatono murmured, "Shonan,
huh," he explained it was an area by the sea, popular with surfers and
yachters.
"We haven’t pinned down her
real name or apartment number yet, but if we wait nearby, we’ll probably spot
her," Kanezaki added casually.
"That’s already stalking,"
Hatono replied with surgical calm.
"It’s not stalking! We’re
looking for a criminal here—this is justified!" Kanezaki shot back.
"Regardless of your reasons,
waiting to ambush someone is still considered stalking. And to think, you were
so critical of my fake account—which, by the way, wasn’t even illegal—and now
you’re fine breaking actual laws."
As the two of them bickered beside
him, Al silently stared at the photo of the building on the smartphone screen.
The layout, the shape, the finish—It looked a lot like his own cheap
apartment.
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