When I looked at Seishan, I felt something I hadn't felt in a long time—a creeping, unnatural revulsion that slithered through my veins and made my stomach twist. It wasn't the usual thrill of sensing blood, the familiar draw that had always made my abilities feel like an extension of myself. This… this was different. Her blood wasn't the rich, intoxicating current I had come to rely on—it was wrong. A distorted imitation, foul and almost rancid in its synthetic sweetness. I forced myself to look away, to stop my hands from twitching toward her as if by instinct, and I refused to activate my vision. Seeing what was beneath the surface might make me vomit. Might make me lose control. And I couldn't afford that—not here, not now.
I clenched my jaw, sliding the letter into her hands. Her eyes flickered with curiosity, or maybe it was hunger—I couldn't tell, and I didn't care enough to find out.
"I'll leave it with you," I muttered.
Her gaze lingered a moment longer, as though she wanted to peel me open from the inside just by looking. I didn't wait to find out. My boots echoed against the cold stone floors as I walked away, and I felt Kai's presence behind me like a shadow that refused to dissipate.
"Ok, Kai. Now you have to help me find the guy," I said, keeping my voice low.
"A deal is a deal," he replied, his voice calm, precise. But there was an edge beneath it—an unspoken promise that he would keep me alive if I stumbled.
We moved through the castle with practiced ease, asking questions of servants, guards, and merchants, piecing together scraps of information like a puzzle made of shadows. It wasn't long before we found a lead—a run-down house on the outskirts of the city, where whispers said he had been seen last.
Kai took to the sky, gliding above the rooftops with effortless grace. He moved like some predatory spirit, surveying the area with eyes that missed nothing. I stayed below, keeping to the shadows, moving slowly through streets where the light barely touched.
The outskirts were strange. People lingered in doorways, their faces briefly melting into grotesque parodies of themselves before snapping back into human form. My head throbbed with each flicker, the pain sharp and relentless, as though my skull was trying to remind me of my own fragility. I hadn't fed in a while—not properly—and my body was protesting. Still, I pressed on.
Finally, the house came into view, small and decaying, as if it had been abandoned years ago. My echo slipped ahead first, invisible and silent, a shadow within shadows, and pinned the man down before I even stepped inside. I followed carefully, crossbow at the ready. I sliced my palm open, letting my blood drip into the mechanism of the weapon. The metal drank, hardened, and an arrow formed in seconds—my lifeblood now a weapon, sharp and cold.
I trained the crossbow on him. "Two options," I said, my voice steady though my heart raced. "Either you give me all your memories and soul shards… or you get a free arrow through your skull."
His body trembled, and for a moment I thought he would comply. Then his flesh melted, soft and disgusting, leaving only white bones behind. My stomach roiled, my mind screaming to turn away—but the image snapped back to normal just as quickly. This man was no ordinary prey.
Kai hovered beside me, sensing my unease. "Listen," he said, his voice sharp, cutting through the tension like a blade. "You need to pay back your debts. I don't want you hurt..."
The man hesitated, then muttered, "Fine… here," attempting to summon a memory to strike Kai. But instinct took over. I shot him in the head before he could even form a complete thought. Blood sprayed, dark and sticky, and my own body trembled with exhaustion and disgust.
Kai fell back slightly, anger radiating off him in waves. "Why did you do that? He surrendered!"
I exhaled slowly, wiping the sweat from my brow. "He tried to kill you," I said simply.
"WHEN? HOW?" Kai's voice rose, and I felt the headache spike painfully. I had enough. Slowly, I raised my crossbow again, letting him see the edge in my eyes.
"Your turn," I said coldly. "Next time, it won't miss if you keep screaming."
The fire in his green eyes dimmed slightly, replaced by something quieter, sadder. "I… was wrong about you," he whispered under his breath before lifting off into the sky.
I didn't follow. I walked back to Aiko alone, dragging the corpse behind me like some grim trophy. She recoiled when I dropped it onto her desk.
"Ahh… the hell…" she muttered, stumbling back slightly.
"Is this him?" she asked, eyes wide with a mixture of disgust and curiosity.
"Yes. But why did you kill him?"
"He resisted," I said simply, my throat dry.
Aiko sighed, pouring herself a cup of alcohol, then handed me one. It was harsh, bitter, nothing like the fine wine I once dreamed of—but it burned in a way that made me feel alive again. I drank it greedily.
We talked after that, though I can barely remember what. Time blurred. The alcohol made words loose, thoughts fuzzy, and yet there was comfort in her proximity, a warmth that made my chest ache in ways I hadn't expected. After three bottles, she suddenly jumped onto my lap, her lips pressing cold and insistent against mine.
I froze. My mind screamed to push her away, but my body betrayed me. I let her kiss me, letting her tire herself out while I tried to process the impossible intimacy. Then, I opened my eyes—and the horror hit me like a blade.
Yuki. Her short white hair, her blue tails, and the face that haunted my nightmares—it wasn't Aiko. Tears welled immediately as I saw what her death had done to my memory, to my heart. And then, just as suddenly, Aiko was back, sitting there, smiling faintly. I tried to pull away, but my body refused, and I deepened the kiss instead, letting the grief, confusion, and longing mix into a bitter, intoxicating cocktail.