Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Yuzu lay in her bed, eyes wide open as the shadows formed faces in the stained paint of the ceiling, the remnants of the day lingering like ghosts. She couldn't shake the familiar ache of longing, a shuddering anticipation that coursed through her veins, turning her thoughts to Mei. Would the mesmerizing girl with her hypnotic violet eyes grace her bed tonight? The hope twisted inside her, igniting a clash of emotions that left her breathless—fear and desire waged war within her chest.

She tossed restlessly, the threadbare sheets tangled around her like the fading paint on the walls, muted hues that whispered of a life long past. Mei’s silhouette haunted her imagination, framing her in a tantalizing glow, filled with vibrant energy that was both a balm and a knife to Yuzu’s heart. The allure was undeniable, fiery and intoxicating, making her pulse quicken with an insatiable need. By now, the pretense was laughed away, remnants of a game she could no longer play. Cursing herself for her weakness, for the wicked yearnings she could not suppress, Yuzu buried her face in the pillow.

Her heart raced at the thought of Mei, black hair cascading like a river of night, her beauty as haunting as a dream—or perhaps a nightmare. The image of those sinfully perfect lips, a warm promise that whispered of things yet to come, sent tremors down Yuzu’s spine. The memories of their last kiss—a collision of confusion and want—created a desperation that overwhelmed her.

“Oh, God help me! Please let her come tonight!” The words slipped from her lips in a murmur, a prayer laced with humiliation and deep longing. She trembled, yearning for the girl whose very presence set her soul ablaze, craving the haven only Mei could provide.

Suddenly, the silence splintered in her reflections... “You don’t want boys, so stop pretending,” Mei had said, her voice sultry and teasing, destruction wrapped in velvet. The smirk on her lips ignited a flush that crept up Yuzu’s neck, igniting the embers of their last confrontation.

“I-I do like boys!” Yuzu stuttered, grasping for something—anything—to shield herself from Mei's piercing gaze that felt like twin amethysts, stripping away her defenses. “I found an attractive teacher on the first day of school, and he—”

“Tell me his name!” Mei's voice was a low hiss, edged with something dangerous, drawing a light gasp from Yuzu as instinctively, she recoiled from the chilling authority contained within.

“It's…it’s the new homeroom teacher!” Yuzu confessed, each word tumbling out in a rush. “He’s so handsome! I even gave him my number…”

Mei's laughter, devoid of warmth, echoed chillingly through the room. “I’ve already got his number.”

The laughter faded into ominous silence. It wasn't until the following day that the teacher's true fate unraveled, splashed across newspaper headlines in sensational tabloid detail. Neither girl spoke of his name again—a silent pact sealed with the frail blonde's guilt.

Their relationship seemed to morph and twist in malevolent ways after that, shrouded in possessiveness and jealousy. Yuzu was ensnared, her will slipping through her fingers like sand. In an oppressive grip, she found herself pressed against a cool wall one fateful evening, Mei's knee possessively wedged between her legs, her wrists clamped tightly in one elegant hand.

“That classmate of yours," her words dripped with disdain as she leaned closer, her breath like ice lacing Yuzu’s skin, “You chose their company over mine!”

“I-I didn’t mean it like that! Y-you mean Harumi?” Yuzu squirmed, her breath hitching as hungry lips brushed her collarbone. “N-No! She’s my only friend! I’m so alone all day…”

Mei raised her head, a dark glimmer in her eyes, baring white teeth that resembled gleaming daggers. “She was your… acquaintance! Lose her. Now!”

Yuzu’s heart shattered as she stood before Harumi, a weight in her chest as she broke off their precious friendship, tears choking her resolve. What could she say? That she was ensnared by the darkness? That her heart now belonged to a creature who made her feel both alive and consumed? Absorbed in Mei’s magnetic tug, she knew the severing was the only way to protect them both.

“How old are you?” Yuzu's innocent question broke the silence one sultry evening as they lay beneath the sheet, their bodies slick and sticky.

A distant, sorrowful expression clouded Mei's beautiful visage. “I’m sixteen. However,” she hesitated, her gaze faraway, “I’ve been sixteen for… a long time.”

The weight of her revelation settled heavy on Yuzu’s heart as an unsettling truth dawned upon her: Mei was every bit the monster that she appeared to be—and so much more. Yuzu's fingers wandered where they shouldn’t, instinctively drawn to something dark and thrilling, to a wet, ripe, and all-encompassing desire.

A familiar knocking at the window jolted her from her tantalizing thoughts. Her heart raced as the moonlight spilled into her room like liquid silver, illuminating the stark walls of her apartment. The cold enveloped her, but she knew—her mother would be home late. It was all as she had planned, had longed for...

Had, somewhere within—feared.

That ghostly whisper slithered through the night air, weaving into her mind. “Can I come in?”

Yuzu’s heart fluttered as she rubbed her tear-streaked eyes. “W-what?”

“Say I’m invited in!” The insistence in Mei’s voice dredged up familiar fears, but Yuzu felt the thrill of submission pulse.

“Y-Yes! Please come in!” The words tumbled out, pleading and desperate, an invitation she knew she could never take back.

Nor did she ask, "how did you get on the ledge of the apartment window?"

Mei had already told her.

"I flew."

The window creaked open, a gust of icy wind swirling in moments before Mei’s ethereal form emerged, catching the light of the winter moon as she stepped onto the wooden floor. She was breathtaking, her pallor illuminated beneath the chilling gaze of the night, gloriously naked and unashamed.

Yuzu caught her breath, utterly entranced by the vision before her—the fine curve of Mei’s waist, her fierce, unnatural beauty that drew her in with a magic cast of awe and lust. She barely noticed the dark red stains on the discarded garments at her feet, enveloped in a haze of need and longing that consolidated all thoughts of doubt into a singular, pulsating desire.

“No— I don’t like boys!” She whispered now to herself, feeling the heat of shame fade beneath the depth of her yearning. What did it matter now?

She needed...

Release.

No questions anymore. All of them were already answered:

“Don’t you feel the cold?”

“Why are you always as chilly as ice?”

“What is that smeared on your clothes?”

“There is a killer loose in Tokyo! Aren’t you afraid of the monster all the papers are talking about?”

No, she didn’t ask questions anymore. Nor had any reason to fear the monster.

Because the monster was in bed with her now, curled up against her trembling, yearning, naked body.

With Mei pressed close, a hollow of dark longing inhabited the space between them. No curiosity remained for Yuzu; the fear faded into a seductive thrill, as it melted into the sleeping depths of her isolated sweet despair. The monster was no longer the fearsome stranger on the outside; the unknown terror had become the one who lay beside her, breathing warmth into the cold edges of her soul.

“You’ve been anxious tonight, haven’t you?” The cold lips brushed against her skin, sending a pleasurable shiver curling down Yuzu’s spine, their possessiveness both exciting and unsettling.

Why deny it? Why deny anything any longer?

“Y-yes! Oh, you’re so cold!” Yuzu’s voice trembled, a mixture of fear and exhilaration flooding her senses.

Mei's mirthless chuckle echoed in the dark as she propped herself on one elbow, captivated by the warmth radiating from Yuzu’s rosy complexion. Delicate fingers glided teasingly over the enticing contours of Yuzu’s body, cascading down to the gentle curve of her firm belly. “Then you'll have to warm me up!  she whispered, her breath like ice against Yuzu’s warmth. "Do you like that?”

“Oh, God, yes!” The affirmation escaped Yuzu in a breathless gasp, the weight of her desire heavy in the air around them.

A knowing smirk passed over Mei's expression, dark and seductive. “Do you want... something more?” Her hand trailed lower, hovering just above the precipice of Yuzu's moist cleft, filling her with burgeoning anticipation.

“What… what do you mean?” Yuzu stammered, her heart racing.

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The room was silent now except for the soft, ragged breaths of the two lovers. Yuzu's body, once a landscape of trembling ecstasy, now lay still, her limbs heavy and spent. Tears blurred her vision, tracing paths down her cheeks to mingle with the sticky residue on her throat. The bed beneath her was a damp, crumpled mess, a testament to the ecstasy that had consumed them.

Mei withdrew with a graceful slowness, her mouth glistening with a crimson sheen. She rose from the bed, her movements fluid and sinuous, like a dancer performing a well-rehearsed routine. Her eyes, however, held a depth of emotion that belied her calm exterior—a mix of tenderness, pain, and something darker, more tormented.

She dressed quickly, her fingers deftly fastening buttons and picking up her old, worn jacket, her breasts outlined by the soft glow through the window. All the while, her gaze never left Yuzu, who lay on the bed, her body wracked with quiet sobs. Mei's expression was a study in contrasts, her lips curved into a smile that was both tender and terrifying, her eyes reflecting a profound sorrow.

With a final, lingering touch to Yuzu's cheek, Mei turned away, her movements swift and efficient. She wiped her lips with the back of her hand, leaving a ghastly crimson smear that she licked off with a feral, almost animalistic gesture. Then, with a graceful leap, she was at the window, her body poised and ready to spring into the night.

She paused for a moment, her eyes meeting Yuzu's one last time. "Remember," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "The night beckons, and I must always return to it."

Yuzu shivered, her body aching with a mix of pleasure and pain, her mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions.

As the frosty air drifted in, she flashed a parting glance at Yuzu. As always, she would leave well before purifying dawn, an ethereal presence fleeting as smoke…

Like the pleasure had been.

As hope had long since become.

The way life surely was, eventually.

Existence?…

So  over-rated.

In the end, quenched by the fall of that ebon, unfathomable curtain.

Mei looked at her… victim? No. There were no victims anymore.

Just pieces on the board. The vampiress, certainly one of them, who still, gave Yuzu everything her heart was capable of.

For the awful need was the mistress enslaving Mei.

She had often thought of someday giving her everything to the innocent girl; Staying through a passionate, honeyed night, wrapped in gentle arms, daring to express and envelop the things so long denied, until the sun burst through the window with the force of a hurricane leaving her lover drowning in the pile of ashes the grateful Mei would become.

Life was so tenacious. “Why do I keep fighting,’ the dark-souled figure asked within, ’for this?”  Shrugging wearily at such folly, she regarded the girl on the bed in silence, who lay shuddering tearfully, faint from loss of the blood Mei had devoured, gently fingering the twin punctures that were rapidly closing up.

Yuzu’s heart showed on her face, the bitter contrasts of the life between:

Love… Anguish.

Bliss… Hopelessness.

Euphoria… Pain.

Fulfillment… Emptiness.

However… something astonishing shone in those emerald eyes.

Somehow, As a rose growing in a stinking charnel pit, an impossible beauty struggled to the surface; wounded, torn, battered; it refused to die, simple, all-forgiving, and honest. loving Mei in the face of everything she knew her to be!

Understood… and accepted!

Yuzu shivered, her body aching with a mix of pleasure and pain, her mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions.

Yet, amidst the turmoil, there was something else—a spark of defiance, a rose blooming in the ashes of her shattered innocence. Yuzu's eyes, emerald pools of emotion, held a depth of understanding and acceptance that belied her years. She loved Mei, despite everything—the darkness, the pain, the knowledge of what Mei was and what she did. She loved her with a profound, selfless devotion that transcended the boundaries of their twisted reality. Despite every vile thing woven within the other, Yuzu found each mote of good the undead girl possessed, large or small, loving her anyway, selflessly, with a profound depth of feeling. In a blasphemous alchemy, the kiss of her red lips… they had somehow became one.

“Even this way… so beautiful, so… guileless.” Mei made the mistake of thinking, violating her own wise, old rule:

Don’t feel.

At that moment, something finished opening the jagged hole inside that which remained human in Mei; as each raw edge cut into her tortured soul. She hated herself with terrible anger, frightening even her…

The  little toys in the shabby room, mementos of an innocent childhood.

Pretty things here and there in an attempt to bring cheer inside the run-down surroundings.

Attractive, stylish clothing in an open closet, in bold defiance of simple means.

The shivering, naïve girl, looking to her for… what?

To be corrupted?

Defiled?

What had she done?

“I… I love Yuzu?”

A weight fell upon her unhallowed spirit, a burden of guilt, roughly equal to its crimes.

Mei spoke at last:

“You wanted to know what it feels like?” Her lips drew painfully taught.

“It feels like—that!…”

The sentence trailed to a struggling whisper, with sorrow beyond understanding, husky with emotions the wretched creature didn’t realize she still possessed. If she could have remembered how to cry, Mei would have at that moment; with a heart breaking into a million aching fragments. When Yuzu’s thoughts had joined with her own, she had also wandered freely through her feelings. That love inside remained; nothing had occurred which could diminish its’ simple magic. It was an unconquerable power, using no force…

It simply was.

Yuzu had left a peaceful garden here, quiet, blissful moments there, the trill of a bird’s enchanting song, as it perched on the sill of a sleepy rain washed window… memories of half-forgotten sun-kissed afternoons, redolent of Heaven, in the wide, wonder-laden eyes of a gentle, innocent child. Unknowingly, she'd opened a beautiful, agonizing wound Mei was loath to close. The magnificent pain and bliss of life, revealed once more, now disclosed through unaccustomed eyes in all its fragile mortality. An incomprehensible gift of life… to an undead heart.

Her voice was poignant with an undefinable, torturous mixture of misery, tenderness, grief, and the mourning of what she had imagined as long-lost humanity. An overwhelming love that she could not understand…

Repeating, “It feels… like that!” so tenderly this time, not daring to look back at the golden key to a long-locked door in her unholy soul, her heart pounded uncontrollably with a strangely renewed spirit. It would be an hour or so until dawn broke, or the tormented girl herself did. Mei was of two minds, and two destinies, having lost both her self-deceit and penultimate excuse. The new snow drifted in upon them—not unlike the tears that wouldn’t come—stinging, bitter… and beautiful.

"I... I love you, Yuzu." she whispered, the words an only half-cmprehended confession. The pain in her voice was raw, a sorrow that cut deeply. If she could have cried, she would have, but her tears were as frozen as her heart

Mei, perched on the windowsill, received a stray wound of that emotion ambient in the small space, and felt something grasping through the remnants of her humanity. The sight of Yuzu, so broken and yet so beautiful, stirred something within her—a long-forgotten warmth in the chest, a memory of a time when she was still human, still capable of love and compassion. She loathed what she had become, what fate had forced her to be. The weight of her crimes pressed down on her, a burden she could no longer bear. Even in that moment of anguish, she felt something else—a spark of hope, a glimmer of redemption. Yuzu's love, pure and unconditional, had pierced the darkness within her, revealing a sliver of light. It was a fragile, tenuous thing, but it was there, a brave candle in the night.

It was...

A hope, a chance of some strange redemption she couldn't bring herself to accept.

"Oh God, who has deserted me, please at least let me cry!” the cursed girl pleaded.

But, it was only her blighted soul standing in its own cruel judgment. More than could be borne, by anyone… alive or in the world between…

With a final, aching look, Mei leaped from the windowsill, her body transforming in mid-air. Onyx wings sprouted from her back as she soared into the night, a fallen angel seeking solace in the shadows. The wind howled around her in anguish that echoed her tormented soul. She flew blindly, with an animal cry of pain echoing off the unforgiving canyon walls of the city, seeking refuge in the anonymous streets below.

The broken, lost girl rejoined her sister…

The Winter night.

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It seemed as though this time, he would get the real thing for his money—Not just some eighteen-year-old posing online as fourteen. That had gotten frustrating.

The girl turned, smiling suggestively.

“Yes. This is my ” Date “ he thought, ’and I’m gonna make sure the little bitch gives me my money’s worth! Anything I want to do. She doesn’t appear very strong”…

Walking over to her, the code phrase was ready on his trembling, greasy, wet lips. “God,’ he ruminated lecherously, ’ This little chick doesn’t even look the fourteen they claimed to be! So damned pretty—Tight little body, baby face—this will make up for that last debacle…”

“It’s dark, but that’s good for business.” he finally managed to speak the code phrase.

“Or even for pleasure.” came the reply. It was her, alright. A special girl working the illegal “Dating” sights that furtive, criminal, sick middle-aged men like him spent much of their spare time haunting. He was too lost in this game for self-recrimination, or anything besides fulfilling his warped desires. Whatever moral fiber he might have once possessed was lost after the incident with that girl five years back…

He found himself shivering, pushing that memory back into the darkness.

“What’s the matter, lover… did a cat just walk across your grave?” the girl chuckled.

Graves…

He shook that memory. Fast.

“Very funny. Listen… where are we going? And this had better be on the up and up, because…’ The chunky man ran his fingers through his greying hair, pointing meaningfully to a bulge in his right trouser pocket.

“Ooooooo! Lover, is that all for me, or—Is it a gun? I’ve got me a tough guy!’ The laugh came without concern. ’It’s all aboveboard, so don’t get your ondori tied in knots!. I need some extra pin money! Hope you brought a lot of cash because it’s 30,000 yen for a trick.” The girl batted her lovely eyes in the dim streetlight, as the john swallowed hard, feeling his lust rising.

“How much for the night, once again?” they asked.

“As I told you, you get a whole night for 100,000 yen, whatever you like, except physical damage. If you want the fuck whipped out of you, on the other hand…’ She made a snapping sound with her hands, smiling and winking. ’You’re not allowed to physically harm me. Anything else—any other rough trade—oral, anal, pissing, bondage—plus anything you want done to you on the receiving end, is all fair game! And listen, I’ve got a strong arm, Lover-boy, if that’s your kink—Believe it or not!”

The young girl was all business, as though having done this many times before. He wondered if rumors he’d heard regarding baby pros was true, that they started so young? Maybe the girl could help him find that if this worked out…

She interrupted his reverie. “What’s your pleasure?”

“First, where are we going?” Overweight, sweaty, aging, brutish-figured, and ugly, he presented about as unattractive—even repulsive—a picture as a man could, and was well aware of that. Men of his affluence always bought what they wanted.

The pink-haired girl smirked openly at his obvious discomfort, leaving the violent-tempered john vowing to make her pay for it when she was at his mercy. “I’ve got an apartment near here, me and another girl take turns with it. Rather cozy! Big, soft bed, we’ve put mirrors everywhere… You can watch everything, from the top, sides…” She winked at him, but already had him with “Mirrors”.

“Okay!’ he abruptly exclaimed.” The evening is wasting away! I’m going to chance a whole night. You’d better be as good as you look!” he added hastily.

“Best bang for the yen in Tokyo!’ the small tart laughed. ’Follow me, lover!” The hulking brute did just that, the other holding the sweaty hand, leading him like a perverse child off to a dark and twisted playground. The Fare was still taking the strange maturity of the girl in, how adult they comported themselves. “Well, I guess if someone’s had guys like me fucking them since they were eight or ten years old, they grow up pretty damned fast.” he reasoned. These streets were like a maze. When were they going to get there? Despite the furtive nature of his criminal existence, the dark frightened him—really—always had; it was ironic that his aberrant, perverse nature had led into such a shadowy life as this.

“Where is this place, anyway?” He asked gruffly, using his best tough voice…

“It won’t be long, lover! Don’t get cold feet!” she laughed.

The John bristled at the implied insult. “Well—don’t try anything hinky! Remember…” He tapped a pocket for emphasis.

Shrugging, she turned into a side street, pointing to a tall wooden gate at the end. “Shortcut, then, Impatience-San!” Opening it into an alley, she drew him in, closing it behind them.

In a brief flash of realization, he became aware of two things.

He had been had…

And… the two of them were not alone here.

From out of the shadows, three ethereally beautiful girls stepped forward into the only decent light the alley had.

A black-haired girl with hypnotic violet eyes that held him transfixed in place, with the reddest lips he had ever seen.

An emerald-eyed blonde with a haunting smile.

And a tall, hazel-eyed, Auburn-haired girl, whom his small escort looked at adoringly, whose smile showed the wickedest, long, sharp teeth…

By the time the horrified would-be customer reached for the gun in his pocket, it was far too late.

The pink-haired girl, in a whiplash move, cranked the arm with a bull’s strength, snapping it at a sickening angle. She continued pulling it loose in its socket, wrenching the tendons free, as he howled like a beaten dog. The gun clattered uselessly to the pavement, the ruined arm hanging like a rag doll. Grabbing the greasy hair, the girl savagely yanked the ugly head back, rousing him from a near-faint and exposing the length of thick neck, its arteries pulsing madly with fear. Having easily forced the man to his knees, the girl held the limp body up as the other three soon silently surrounded the victim, looking with satisfaction into their smaller companion’s expectant eyes, who proudly beamed at the show of approval.

“What have you brought us for dinner tonight, Matsuri?” The dark-haired girl chuckled merrily, fluffing the pink hair affectionately. “You know, we’ve all been rather famished of late! The authorities have been so inquisitive, and that’s been putting quite a damper on the hunting…”

“Dinner… Did she say?…” the man sobbed incredulously through his searing pain.

“They’re ungrateful!” the green-eyed girl admonished, “Here we are, after all, cleaning up the cities dangerous vermin! I mean, we’re helping everyone out!”

“And a girl has to grab a quick bite sometime!” The violet-eyed girl laughed…

“Oh! Just look what I found for my precious sisters!’ the little vampiress boasted. ’As you see, our Romeo acts tough, but actually, is just a lonely boy who’s out looking for love!” The sarcastic chuckle was acidic.

“You’ve been such a good hunter, Mattie!’ the tall one crooned. She caressed the pale cheeks, the small girl basking in the attention, receiving the affection with a ghastly smile.

“Those stories in the papers… ’ the hysterical man remembered, ”Those bodies…”

Their dinner began to go gibbering mad…

It didn’t really help.

The small girl turned back yo him. 

“We’re running a special tonight, lover!’ the pink-haired creature whispered mockingly, the open-mouthed smile exposing razor-like teeth. ’Tonight, you get to have a five-some! Rough trade—Obviously, it’s not exactly what you wanted or, what I promised, ’ she winked, ’ but—You still only have to pay…”

“… just the one price!”

Chapter Text

Looking like she might be sixty, the elderly woman was spry, for all her aches, a sharp-minded lady fifteen years older, every one of them weighing heavily on her slight, wiry shoulders this awful day. Most had been spent in the pursuit of…

“A promise.” she thought.

Yes.

A noble lady always keeps her word.

A solemn vow, made to her dearest friend on earth.

The young girl lay insensate on the ground; when she awakened from the chloroform hours from now, it would all be over. Poor innocent little thing… by what she gathered, she was in her mid-teens although seeming a much younger child, and certainly, acted like one. She’d chatted her way into the girl’s confidence over the last few days, presenting herself as a nice, dotty older woman with no children, happy to befriend them. It worked a charm.

Nene.

That was the name!

Today, after a slip of the girl’s tongue revealed the necessary information, they’d maneuvered the child off toward the empty room without raising suspicion. By the time she arm locked the girl and brought the sponge to her startled face, it was too late to even attempt escape. The child barely uttered a few stifled words before going deeply under, and would stay in that state for longer than the mission took. Fully awakened, free of the powerful influence that had exerted its control over their thoughts, the past months would hopefully pass as a nightmare the child had suffered.

And… wasn’t it?

“But my nightmare will never end! My old nightmare…” she reflected bitterly.

Sixty years.

Tonight was the culmination of so many years of hard work, fruitless searching, suffering, heartbreak…

The fulfillment of a promise many years older.

Memories wove a tapestry through her mind.

Post World War Two Japan, Tokyo, her home city…

Born shortly after Japan’s surrender in 1945, after the awful war that the empire-lusting madmen of the military party had dragged their nation into, she didn’t remember much before age five or six, Perhaps, like many… choosing to forget. She’d heard all the stories. The Yakuza, cutting sordid deals with corrupt American officers. Women taken up against their will to staff houses of prostitution. Hunger, even starvation. The shameful social abuses that persisted throughout her childhood… The hardships, crime, and wickedness, peoples parents could not shield them from the knowledge or sometimes, the experience of, even for well-placed families like hers.

Hers… and Mei’s. Their fate, their lives locked together from young childhood on.

“I love you, Mei!” she was hearing her eight-year-old voice saying as if it was playing out that very moment. “I’ll always be there for you! I’ll do everything I can to help you! You’re my best friend on earth!”

The beautiful girl, to be honest, was her only friend.

As the reconstruction years moved on, with the changes of growing up beginning in them both… she began to realize something…

At some time, as an adolescent, she’d fallen in love with Aihara Mei. She never revealed this, worshiping her in secret, demonstrating all she was allowed by convention, as best friend and confidante. They grew into their teens together. In the manner the young imagine, it seemed there would always be time to confess her great love. Meanwhile, the two shy girls celebrated a wonderful friendship, both devoted to upholding it together.

Until the Autumn of nineteen sixty-one…

Yes. That’s when it happened. The last happy days of her life. The elderly woman remembered and treasured each one to this moment. After that, evil was abroad once more in Tokyo.

It struck home.

How it had happened, no one ever knew. But one day, a few weeks after her sixteenth birthday, Mei had simply vanished. Everyone joined to look for her. The police searched tirelessly. This was a person of position, with a well-known family. Was she kidnapped? No one saw the lovely girl, No one heard anything…

“Mei… forgive me! I’ve failed you!” she sobbed every night, before sleep, with its awful dreams, took command of her unconscious mind.

Months passed. Months during which everyone concerned slowly and bitterly concluded that Mei was the victim of some maniac, or perhaps, was taken up by a criminal gang for… other purposes. Although much rarer than before, it was still known to happen, although usually with girls of poorer backgrounds, or especially Ita, who were typically left to shift for themselves by the authorities. She continued on, after a few weeks, with the routine of her life, although it had become joyless by then.

One night, months later, after being painfully resigned to the awful truth, she awoke to a scratching sound on their bedroom window. Sitting up in bed, half-asleep, a hand went to her mouth in a mixture of amazement!

This had to be a nightmare.

Beyond the double windows of the big bedroom, her lost friend stood smiling, beckoning with graceful, pale hands. If it was possible, the girl’s porcelain skin was even whiter than remembered, the lovely lips standing out luridly, fantastically red. The stunned girl, seeing this vision, temporarily doubted her sanity.

How did the girl—if this was real—get on the window ledge four floors above the street outside?

“Mei!’ she whispered, ’I’m dreaming! It can’t be! ”

Walked timidly to the window, her body shook so hard from the shock she could barely stand up, discerning the violet-eyed girl’s voice as a muffled whisper from the other side of the glass:

“Say that I can come in! You have to say I can come in!”

But why did she say that strange thing? How did her friend get there? And how…

“Mei, I don’t understand! How can you… What happened to you?”

“Say that I can come in!” Mei growled a final time. But this time, the other began screaming, noticing something horrifying…

The mouthful of razor-sharp teeth Mei had revealed in the burst of anger, threatening behind blood-red lips.

The terrified girl knew in that moment this was no longer the person she’d loved and mourned. It was a demon, a fact revealed as, turning from them on the ledge as people burst into the room, the bizarre figure flew off on terrible devil wings suddenly seeming to sprout out of nowhere.

Her parents had her treated for shock and nervous collapse. Although recovering both wit and nerve, she’d never slept in that room again. Perhaps it would have been written off as a waking nightmare, a hysterical episode, except over the proceeding months, the inquisitive girl found three other people who had similar experiences, all of them involving a vision of the same ethereal person. Two of them were later found dead, bodies drained of blood. After months, it all instantly, sickeningly, clicked for her. Something she had thought was the subject matter of bad movies, and even more appalling literature.

Kyuketsuki!

Vampire!

She became consumed by the study of vampire lore. Always a voracious student, now her free time became focused on a new, single-minded task. Rare, and forbidden books were sought and fervently poured over. Time passed… A few years along the way, one day she attracted the attention of an older woman, who seemed to persue the same goal. Out on another of the endless investigations, she couldn’t help be noticed...

Another who spoke with the same people, asking the same questions…

“You’re looking for the violet-eyed girl, aren’t you?” the graying, stern-looking woman queried. The other hesitated, wondering what was transpiring between the two of them—strangers to each other.

“Tell me your story,’ the older woman requested, ’And do not be afraid it will be unbelievable to me. Because once you’ve heard mine…”

Oh, yes. It was fate, meeting a perfect mentor in that little town. That, and a shared purpose. The same end—but for different reasons.

For many years, her companion serving as both teacher and help-meet for them, the two vampire-hunters scoured the cities and countryside together, ridding the land of its curse. Until that awful incident in Kyoto. That one had nearly cost her life.

It did cost the life of her partner.

But, crawling from the wreckage of the deadly surprise attack, she'd acquired an entirely new skill set, one employed ever since.

“I’m never getting taken unaware again!” she'd vowed afterward…

She filled her teacher’s missing place well, and honorably. The older woman would have been so proud. There probably wasn’t another person in Japan, (outside of her late old mentor!) who knew more vampire lore than she did. All of it, for one purpose. To the outside world, an eccentric old woman, a now long retired educator.

Secretly… a lady on a mission, hard as steel, fearless as a warrior.

“I’m coming Mei!’ she would whisper when on the hunt, tirelessly probing the countryside over, ’I’ve dispatched so many of your kindred—but my true mission is to help you. In any way I can.”

And now, these killings, the stories she’d heard whispered by people the authorities never bothered to talk to. The criminals, the street people, and the crazies who told tales of three unearthly girls and their haunting leader whom they had seen personally.

What horrors they had borne witness to!…

Oh, yes. Mei was back in the old hometown again.

Her hometown, as well—but after so long, so many regrets? Tokyo held terrible memories, and nothing of beauty left to enjoy anymore. The careful investigation began methodically, finding the young girl almost by accident, the necessary human guardian for a sleeping vampire’s safety.

Unlocking the storage building’s door with the pilfered key and eased up the stairs, her mind filtered back down through the years to the present desperate, deadly moment. The sure, nimble old fingers retrieved a flashlight out of her travel bag and turned it on.

“I’m coming, Mei!’ she whispered. ’I promise I’ll help you!”

Who had done this awful thing to Mei, in the first place? Was it one she'd formerly… encountered? How much sweeter sleep would be, knowing she had!

Now where?... Of course! The door beneath the rafter! A perfectly safe place, most people wouldn’t even come up here in this creepy-looking attic room, with  dangerous, rickety stairs. After a few tries, the right key was located on the jangling ring that fit the door. Carefully opening it, the light picked out the path ahead. The first thing noticeable was covered windows, then heavy quilts wrapping four roughly human-sized figures on the floor.

But of course. It was daylight. They wouldn’t like that, would they?

She knew by long experience they would not awaken at her activities. That’s why they always needed a human servant to watch out for them, to keep them hidden and protected. “They’ll be in heavy torpor until the evening,” she thought, “Unable to move. Plenty of time. Now—which one is Mei?”

Softly setting a bag on the floor, she began gingerly rolling down a packing quilt. No. This was a blonde, a sad expression on the sleeping face. Trying again, she got a rather buxom brunette.

The third time was a charm.

It was Mei, looking so much like the last time she had seen her.

She felt her heart shatter into tortured pieces, all over again…

Sorrow blurred her old eyes, painfully realizing—this was a girl cursed to be sixteen forever, doomed to live off the lifeblood of others. Mei had, out of loneliness, made others of her kind—Here was the proof of the stories before her!

What must life have been like all these years? Wandering, murdering to live. How many had fallen, or would eventually fall, to the kiss of her red lips?

Her beloved Mei, damned to an eternity of…

No.

No, she would not be.

Not that!

The old woman felt the heat of the heavy tears backing up under her eyes, each one of them a dark jewel of pain in the shadowed room. The years crumbled away viewing the beautiful face, resisting the urge to bow and kiss those cherished lips.

Nearly sixty years. Most of a life—nearing its culmination now.

“I will honor my sacred vow, to the letter and spirit, my sweet, precious girl!’ She thought, ‘Remember what I always swore, Mei?’ she whispered, swallowing hard through the agony of tears now pouring down her pain-lined face. ’I’m here to keep my promise! I promised I would always help you…”

She opened the bag, withdrawing two objects, one of them a curiously made, long, sharp silver spike—placing it point down over her best friend’s beautiful, still bosom, directly above the heart. The lost girl looked so innocent.

“... And I will. The only way I can, now.”

After all this time, this was still her Mei.

Tormented, haunted, broken…

Girl.

The old woman loved her…

Would always worship her…

Would forever cherish her memory…

“Dear God, strengthen my spirit, and resolve!” she prayed, her wrenching heart about to burst from the worst suffering it had ever endured. Raising the heavy hammer in a trembling hand, faithful old Himeko lifted her anguished face upward, closing both eyes in pain, sobbing:

“I’m sorry I was so late… forgive me…”

“I… I love you, Mei…”

Chapter Text

One final moment of prayer, and Himeko brought the mallet down in a powerful swing…

What was this?…

Like magic—so swift it was a blur—It stopped mid-course, like a powerful magnet had clamped to it.

Or one abnormally strong, graceful-looking pale hand.

Feeling a chill come over her, Himeko slowly looked up, right  into a teenage girl’s playful face, who might have been cute at one time had not the smile now held a mouthful of teeth as ugly and razor-sharp as a shark’s. Threads of drool glistened as the mouth opened.

No—Definitely not a young girl anymore.

Fast as lightning, kicking the silver spike out of the woman’s other hand, the pink-haired vampiress hurled the hammer to one side, pulling the wiry old woman up like a doll, until the captive found herself close enough to smell the creature’s stinking, fetid, charnel breath. The creature clearly regarded the whole situation after the manner of a nasty, sadistic child about to torture a bug. The old woman reflected, her captor was quite capable of pulling ones’ limbs off, in precisely that same, unthinking, heartless way. The creature cooed over the new play-toy, seeming to be far too familiar with the experience...

“Don’t struggle, granny, it just makes it all worse. Trust me!”

A voice like a child…

A possessed child…

“You damned vile little Hell-spawn! Get it over with, if you're going to!” Himeko hissed through pain-gritted teeth. She’d seen it before, how the transition drove some of these young girls mad.

The blue eyes were seemingly looking without emotion at the elderly woman with a mixture of curiosity, amusement, and complete contempt—for life, or anything else. Or perhaps, she was just bored.

Wanting to play…

“Hmm…’ the little monster whispered, ’ You’re a vampire hunter! Damn good, too, to get this far! As I recall, in Miss Theodora Van Helsing’s classic volume, ” The Vampire Casebook ", I quote: “One may dispatch the vampire at one’s leisure during the day, even if  they're hidden in a darkened place…”

She pointedly looked at Himeko.

“Of course—Old stuff to you, right?—But, to continue:”

“For the vampire is a creature possessing a major weakness, in that, during daylight hours, it is overcome by a torpor so profound, one may easily complete the performance of destruction without fear that it, or any companions with which it may be sleeping, will awaken to interrupt this sacred duty to humanity…”

The old woman, held tightly now, struggled painfully, as if confined with strong chains—It was about as useless to attempt to fight.

“I would grant you the same mercy!” Himeko growled, praying beyond hope to reach the bag just to the left of them.

The struggling delighted her captor.

“You filthy little beast!” she swore vainly, ’Do you enjoy your damnation?” How she prayed to be able to reach the object carefully concealed beneath her coat of many pockets...

The little vampiress’s blue eyes flashed with obscene merriment, as she relaxed the powerful grip. ’Tell me, seriously, lady… How many of my kind have you taken out of the picture? I won’t be mad—They’re just competition, I mean, except my sisters!”

’Clearly, one less than I would have desired! “ Himeko snapped, spitting right in the undead girl’s astonished face, before aiming a surprisingly strong punch for good measure.

” Would to God I had the strength to take that head off your shoulders, demon!” she groaned in frustration. The girl had her arms pinned again before she could reach her weapons...

" Oh granny, you’re so frisky for such a filthy dried-up old bitch!’ the other said admiringly, clasping Himeko from behind and freeing one hand to wipe the blood from her lips. She then moved it down and squeezed the old woman’s throat so tightly she nearly asphyxiated.

The little vampiress, she realized, was in danger of, becoming completely unhinged, of a future that left her some place where her reason would never return. Himeko had seen that happen to those turned at a young age before this. She remained silent. Anything that could have helped her was in a bag on the floor, or in her coat. It might as well have been on the moon.

Over the fit of piqué, the vampiress regained her shaky grasp on coherence, continuing: “Ah! Bad girl! … Now back to my favorite vampire hunter—Theodora! What a delightful book! Truly a fine database! Full of excellent methods, solid, practical advice, true cases, and unfortunately for you—one glaring piece of misinformation: You see, although our Mei, and the other two girls, are most certainly in a vampire coma, some very few new vampires—such as me—occasionally can’t seem to sleep, no matter what. It’s… How would I describe it? Like a truly awful form of supernatural insomnia! I mean, as long as we avoid the sunlight, you know? Well then, it’s all good, right?”

Giggling crazily for a moment, she ceased abruptly without a smile.

“Now—I’ve always been one to read, often the strangest things, because it can get so goddamn dull being undead, you know? It’s like being me when I was a living person to the tenth power that way! But today, all of your bustling about sort of woke me up from my little reverie…”

Leering into Himeko’s disgusted face, the creature’s vile breath nearly made her gag.

“… Where I had been daydreaming about the many ingenious ways I could make all you fucking living people hurt, over and over again…” Her face contorted, eyes rolling luridly at the thought. " Because—I didn’t like people that much when I was one of them. All they did was find ways to hurt me, so—payback, right? Then, here I come crawling out of my wrapper over there, like a big piece of candy. And well, there you were, granny, gettin’ real with Mei!”

The undead girl laughed again…

Softly…

Obscenely…

Heartlessly…

“So… dear Theodora’s advice is right on target most of the time.’ the vampiress hissed, voice coldly mocking, ’Except—sadly, when it isn’t! There are still a few persistent folktales out there. Happily, for us four girls—because even an expert like you bought into them!”

“And, although it’s quite unfortunate for you, as it transpires, I think that you will agree with me, in this particular incidence …”

“Myth busted!”

Chapter Text

That held a growing promise of some form of dark redemption...

To be continued...

Chapter Text

The rain lashed noisily against the panoramic windows of the well-appointed office, each droplet another irritation to Himeko, who's mind was preoccupied by the grim operations of these new times. Outside, the storm, a Winter tempest that seemed to mirror the turmoil swirling within her, had been at its course all day. Inside, the air crackled with awful anticipation, almost bearing a tangible essence,  punctuated by the tick of an ornate grandfather clock that stood sentinel in the corner, its pendulum swinging with a relentless certainty.

"Why was I never a music-lover, like my mother?" she wondered suddenly. "I could put some music on, and it would at least  hide some of the sound of that damned rain outside! Then I could  relax with the strains of soothing Classical orchestras, the Impressionists, or perhaps Concert music as she always did. "Settle down here with me child, and listen! Forget your troubles for but a sweet moment!" she would say."  The elderly woman shook her head. She'd never had time, or so, it appeared in her eyes.

Tomorrow was her seventy-seventh birthday, and she was still as enervated, as impatient as ever.

Himeko perched on the old mahogany desk, the weight of a prized heirloom katana—once wielded by a noble ancestor, a gleaming blade finely honed for purpose—lying sheathed beside her. Its deadly intent was momentarily suspended, like a coiled snake waiting for the opportune moment to strike. She cast a weary glance at her phone. Once a teacher, a guardian of the minds of the innocent, she had long donned the mantle of a vampire hunter, her very essence informed by both necessity and the thirst for vengeance. But now?...

She worked in tandem with her former quarry, and willingly.

A grim, fleeting smile attempted to assert itself, only to wither in the face of her mood’s oppressive gravity. The irony of her current position was not lost on either her, or the others. The agents of what the  group now called “The Shadow Syndicate” had been calling with good news for weeks. Each call served as a reminder of the audacious plan she had proposed months ago, a scheme that had blossomed into an astonishing success—every hint of victory a step closer to redemption, even as each carried the weight only a self appointed executioner could know.

She shrugged, causing her to wince. The introspective, many-times injured woman had long been sensitive to the Season's changes. But it was getting worse.

"You're old, woman! And winding down, and every injury that ever broke something in you has suddenly begun haunting you with a vengeance."

That was a disconcerting thought. How much longer could she live, how long could her power of reason stand, before she got forgetful; before she was too infirm for this new, and great mission, that had arrived so unfortunately late in her life. Would the girls, even Mei, be able to continue on at this early stage without her mastery of direction?

There was another important movement—a specter looking on a more distant horizon, haunting her thoughts—Yuzu’s mission. The last thread in a carefully sewn net of intrigue and blood that she feared might unravel. Months in the making, she heard from her very seldom.

Each call, she feared, might be the last.

"You're a worrier, old girl! You always were. Always will be!"

The clock, not for the first time, was making her even more nervous. In a moment, she would stop its clever mechanism out of annoyance. But she could not unwind the sky, and the storm seemed to be gaining in volume against the blurred glass of the tall, 19th century windows. She drew the rich heaviness of the antique brocade velvet curtains closed, giving a brief moment over to savor the sensual pleasure of the texture, as she had in years before when she was an innocent child in love with the world, and all it held.

So long. So long ago!

She rubbed an aching joint, another intrusive and unwelcome guest in her aging body. 

"Winter in Tokyo begins!" she thought with a growing melancholy. It always wielded the power to subdue her mood, a magic she would rather do without.

                                                                             *******************************************************************************************

Another restless evening, a familiar, uncongenial companion of old age. The memory of Harumin’s terse call echoed in Himeko’s mind, returning in a troublesome loop.

“Himeko-san… mission accomplished. The target is… neutralized.” Harumi Taniguchi’s voice, usually so assured, slipped through the line, fragile as glass, laced with a weariness that seemed to seep into the very air around her. Himeko envisioned her agent standing amidst the skeletal remains of a once-opulent study, blood a stark stain against the polished decor, the air heavy with the acrid scent of gunpowder.

Harumin’s target—a notorious arms dealer whose machinations had drowned nations in chaos—slumped grotesquely against a shattered bookcase, a single bullet wound marring his forehead like a cruel punctuation mark on a sentence of suffering. As the remnants of his lavish possessions lay strewn about, the aftermath bore witness to a purpose that only they—the hunters—could truly comprehend.

“The data drive is secure,” Harumin muttered, her voice subdued as she meticulously cataloged the encrypted device, the lifeblood of incriminating evidence pulsing within its circuits. Names, dates, transactions—it all lay there, a roadmap through the murky world of corrupt officials and suppliers they intended to expose, future targets in a war without mercy.

The hardest part, Himeko knew, hadn’t been the kill itself. Harumin, working with lethal efficiency, had embraced her role with an unsettling grace. It was the aftermath that gnawed at her—the eerie void left in the wake of a life extinguished, however vile. It was not like the nights of the hunt before; when seeking to sustain her life was the main impetus, however else they viewed it. She had become a precision instrument—a living weapon willingly wielded by Himeko, each calculated strike a step deeper into the abyss. What they fought for, a cause they both believed in fervently, had transformed into a terrible weight, a burden of both duty and form that often felt as though it crushed the remnants of her soul.

The tall vampiress began the familiar ritual of cleaning her handgun. Each slide of the cloth against cold metal was a momentary comfort amid the chaos of her life.

“Another death on our hands, however necessary.” she whispered grimly, her voice barely breaking the silence of the ravaged room. Groteque shadows grew long across the walls, echoing the crude violence of the recent endeavors. The way home to Tokyo loomed just beyond the glass, a taunting reminder that some truths could never be washed away. When she had joined her sisters after her turning, the support and comradery had buoyed her spirits. She need only turn to Mei, to Yuzu, to Matsuri, to be answered as to why this was right, why it had to be. But alone? She had been set to hunt monsters, but sometimes felt that she, too, was no better in the end.

Her mind churned with darker thoughts, a tempest of guilty reverberations, before settling on tonight's long sought after victim of harsh justice, and his cohorts. “Damn them all!" she hissed into the void, as if speaking to the spirits of innocents lost to the man’s avarice. “How many souls have been sacrificed on the altar of his greed for mere riches?” The bitter truth of the lives they had ended offered little solace, yet she forced herself to quell the rising tide of doubt. Although scarred from a past that informed her future, she clung fiercely to the hope that soon, she would reunite with her sisters—return to their shared uniqueness, back to the pack. Those days seemed like distant calls of beautiful birds, fragments of happiness now shrouded by the fog of their recent, sophisticated, yet still savage endeavors.

But, once among her kin again, she would question them anew, seeking justification. And once more, with patience and empathy, they would make it right in her eyes, lifting her spirits…

                                                                            **************************************************************************************

Himeko had sat in darkness, bereft of sleep weeks later, bracing herself for Mei’s imminent report. She sensed the woman’s disdain for the assignments that stained her lovely hands. Mei was less a soldier and more a brilliant mind, a strategist whose intellectual prowess often felt squandered within the realm of their violent existence. Himeko could picture her now, retreating into the sterile sanctuary of her books and diagrams, shielded intellectually from the brutality she was compelled to wield. .

"To conceive of a thing,' Mei had once confided, 'is genius. To execute the concept is servile." It had helped Himeko understand the jeweled movements of that mind and ego in a whole new way...

“Himeko, darling,” Mei’s voice pierced the oppressive silence, tinged with an unsettling mock cheerfulness.  “The General is no more. Mostly clean, swift, efficient—no witnesses left behind, at any rate.” Her casual tone contrasted sharply with the grim weight of her task, a mask she wore with unsettling ease. “Though I had to adjust my… strategy… to deal with his rather… robust security detail. I'm afraid that transaction  was messy.”

The agent was a maestro of improvisation, a cunning strategist who could deftly transform obstacles into opportunities. Himeko absorbed the report, heart thudding in her chest as she grasped the gravity of Mei’s words. The General—a man wrapped in layers of corruption, trading state secrets like chips in a high-stakes game—was concealed within a virtual fortress, bristling with armed guards and sophisticated surveillance.

She inhabited a different moral universe; she never fretted over lives taken. For her, the General was merely a vital game piece to incapacitate, unceremoniously sacrificed for the grand all-consuming strategy of their mission, and the good of the innocent. None of the girls had so brilliantly changed than she, from self-hatred to self acceptance as her new role fulfilled her.

“Disguised as a visiting dignitary with money to splash,” she continued, her tone clinical, “I quickly changed into my other self, and became a ghost, slipping through the cracks of his fortress. The surveillance cameras? I disabled them, rerouting their feed to loop old recordings. The guards didn’t stand a chance.” Her confidence spilled out, a chilling allure that made Himeko’s unease crawl under her skin.

The performance was flawless. Even the General's trusted aides and security experts failed to recognize the specter among them. “A false alarm sent security into a frenzy. Then, the power outage plunged the place into darkness—an orchestrated chaos! The explosion? Oh, that was just a cherry on top. I found him cowering in his panic room—surrounded by cash and documents that could bring down empires. Said which documents are heading your way by our usual trusted couriers.”

A shiver raced up Himeko’s spine as she envisioned it. Cunning and lethal, Mei had found her target in a moment of vulnerability, armed with a single syringe filled with fast-acting poison. “A final gift,” she labeled it nonchalantly. “One tires of... brute physicality. I left no traces—vanished into the night in my usual manner.”

The weight of her actions existed in a realm undisturbed by the philosophical quandries of choices. Where Harumin was still occasionally haunted by the lives coldly taken, Mei’s worldview walked the game field  of existence, observing life as a series of strategic moves, where potential failure gnawed at her more than any blood-stained conscience ever could.

                                                                                         ********************************************************************

Beyond the window, the persistent chill of the rain continued its relentless descent for the fourth consecutive day, drumming against the glass like a rhythmic pulse, while the city seemed to pause, awaiting the break of dawn. The erratic nature of global climate change promised this would be the most unpredictable and extended season in recent memory. “Oh well. Other regions are buried under snow up to their rooftops!” Himeko mused. Winter had firmly settled in Tokyo, and the grand mission was in full swing.

Matsuri’s much-anticipated report arrived weeks later, when Mei, already comfortably ensconced back in Tokyo, sat across from her old friend with a languid and inscrutable smile, politely drinking purchased freshly donated blood from a steel cup, a feast made possible courtesy of well bribed blood bank employees. Himeko herself had arranged it right away when the girls had agreed to join on this mad quest.

"I just told them I needed a constant supply for 'research' " she had explained at the time. Long since having come into a sizeable fortune upon the death of her aristocratic parents, requirements of money posed no problem.

"Money,' Mei thought, looking at the nearly empty cup with a roll of her eyes, 'seems to be able to get you anything. Things would have been so much easier for us all if I had thought of this!" A small burp of satiety escaped her perfect mouth, causing a rare, impromptu giggle. It might have even been thought charming, had it not issued from behind those teeth, along with a faint, but distinctly charnel odor.

"Excuse me! And, once again, thank you for the takeout, Dear!" she quipped, raising the cup in a toasting gesture.

Himeko wrinkled her nose in disgust as the vampiress murmured another apology and licked her red lips, and pressed the button on her device, putting it on speaker so both could hear.

“Target eliminated. The documents are secure.” Matsuri Mizusawa’s voice came through clearly, a flat monotone, a dispassionate proclamation that hinted at her chilling nature. A master of stealth and infiltration, Matsuri was the Syndicate’s Will O' The Wisp—a presence that belied her immature appearance. Her ability with electronics, to develop fresh skills, had amazed the entire team.

The target—a ruthless industrialist who had plotted poisoning a foreign city’s water supply for profit—had proven elusive, ensconced in a sterile, hermetically sealed modernist mansion that glimmered with false security. Guarded by mechanical drones and layered with laser grids, the fortress seemed impenetrable to any but the most skilled assassins.

Himeko shuddered involuntarily at the thought of Matsuri. Like a specter, she drifted through the shadows, leaving only certain death in her wake. Matsuri was an innocent-seeming weapon honed to a razor’s edge, but Himeko felt a cold knot of worry settling in her gut. She feared the emptiness that radiated from Matsuri would eventually consume her whole, leaving nothing but a void where once there was life.

In the weeks leading to the kill, Matsuri meticulously studied the industrialist’s routines: mapping vulnerabilities, analyzing security protocols, and honing her lethal skills. She disabled drones with an ease that suggested countless hours of practice, gliding past the laser grids as though she were not a corporeal being, but a phantom. All lines of communication were jammed into uselessness.

When she finally found him, he was cloistered in his private laboratory, surrounded by vials and beakers that held his deadly creations. It was there, frozen in that moment of chilling hubris, that Matsuri struck—heartlessly and efficiently. A precise series of pressure point strikes rendered the industrialist helpless, his mind grappling with the realization that danger had breached his sanctuary.

“I’m leaving you alive—for now, you bastard. You’ll soon understand why!” she had taunted him, with a smile like a crosscut saw, savoring his scream of horror with a momentary indulgence amidst the business at hand.

With the incriminating documents finally in her grasp—proof of his heinous crimes and intent to doom a city with a weapon of unimaginable terror for the plans of a foreign enemy—she executed a final act of dark justice. As she activated his enclosed ventilation system, the agonizing, slow-killing toxins swirled into the air behind her rapidly retreating figure, ensuring he and his staff would become the only victims of their own vile creations. It was poetic, a cruel twist of fate that left him to choke on the very evil he had sought to unleash upon the innocent. Only a short, cold laugh  at the end of her report belied a hint of delight in their deaths. Both Himeko and Mei praised her, and mentioned a fine welcoming party was awaiting her return in the old Momokino family mansion which was their home base in Tokyo.

"I'm looking forward to that, sisters!" was the interested reply.

Matsuri usually seemed to feel nothing—no remorse, no satisfaction. In her world, emotion was a luxury she could ill afford. Her loyalty to her sisters was absolute, her dedication unwavering, but beneath that cold exterior lurked a tension that threatened to unravel her. She was another magnificent weapon, borne of darkness, wielded with deadly precision, but the strains of becoming a vampire had left a lingering tendency to instability

Observing her old friend’s rather pointed inspection of her stiff movements, Himeko finally remarked, “Goddamned Winter. It torments my ancient bones! A plight you’ll never endure, my dear! Now, Mei… What is this proposal you believe I should entertain?..”

"Well... Here it comes. I wonder how far into my exposition I'll get before I'm exiled from, "The Presence?" Mei wondered.

                                                                                  ***********************************************************************************

On a night over a month later, It was Yuzu's mission that truly worried Himeko. Despite her remarkable strength and abilities—second only to Mei’s—this target was more dangerous than any they had ever pursued: an absolute dictator of a small, yet menacing totalitarian Asian nation, notorious for his paranoia and madness. Himeko's heart clenched at the thought of the blonde walking into the lion's den, a chimera lamb draped in silk. Across from where she was this very night, stood a nation that was a Western-friendly republic—with its own problems, to be sure. But she was directly North, in a totalitarian pariah nation that frequently threatened the peace, not only of their neighbor, but of the entire Asian world with its mentally unstable leadership.. Yuzu had been away for months on end, and now, the time had arrived to eliminate the target.

Time didn't have quite the same meaning to Himeko's team, although they had all expressed a desire to be back with their "Family."

The preliminary call arrived, Himeko's fingers trembling slightly as she pressed the screen to open the encrypted line.

“He’s almost here, Himeko-san. That turnip-headed little dictator is so eager to meet ‘the blonde courtesan,’ ” Yuzu Okogi’s voice flowed through the speaker, laced with playful malice that sent shivers down Himeko’s spine. “He’s quite… generous with his offers. It’s such a shame to… disappoint him, don’t you think?”

Himeko's heart was pounding in her chest as she listened. "Don't be overconfident, Yuzu! You can be killed, too, you know!" She whispered, her voice trembling with fear and concern. But Yuzu's response only served to heighten Himeko's anxiety.

"Not tonight, Himeko. I've crashed his spyware. His guards are dead. I just broke their spines. They're sitting in their seats out there, looking very efficient." Yuzu's words were delivered casually, as if she were talking about a night on the town rather than a life-or-death situation.

Himeko felt a wave of tension wash over her as she visualized Yuzu standing in the opulent penthouse suite, her porcelain skin glowing in the soft lighting. She adjusted the silk kimono that clung to her curves, her movements deliberate and seductive. The scent of expensive perfume perhaps mingling with the faint metallic tang of blood, a subtle reminder of the danger lurking beneath her enchanting facade.

The opponent, a cruel and decadent dictator, had been lured out of hiding with promises of pleasure and indulgence. Unlike public appearances, that was something he couldn't send one of his many surgically altered doubles for. He was a delusional, bloody-handed megalomaniac who believed he could do or buy anything, including loyalty, unquestioned obedience, and more foolishly, even love and affection. His family had been installed by a large foreign nation as absolute dictators since the time of his grandfather in their small country, and given nuclear capabilities to back them up as a buffer to interests of free Asia, and their Western allies. In his delusional eyes, he was beloved by all. He had no idea that the "courtesan" he had summoned was a vampire assassin, far more dangerous than any soldiers he could command.

Yuzu's lips curled into a predatory smirk as she meaningfully licked her teeth. For him, this would not be the anticipated seduction; it was a carefully crafted performance, a lethal game of rat and dragon. She took a deep breath, relishing the anticipation, the raw power coursing through her veins. She flexed her perfect fingers.

They had the strength to snap metal, let alone bones.

A gruff and lecherous voice, rotten and corrupt with concupiscence boomed from the other side of the heavy oak door.

"Let the blonde one in!"

Himeko held her breath as she waited for Yuzu's return call, anxious for this day to end. She knew that this was the moment when the agent would either succeed in her mission or meet her end. She closed her eyes, troubled for her friend's safety, even as she knew that the darkness within was an integral part of who she was.

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Several hours later, Himeko set her smart device aside with a triumphant smile, her heart swelling with pride. Mission accomplished. She had conveyed her congratulations, along with those of the entire team. How could she have ever doubted the outcome?

Yuzu had eagerly recounted the dictator’s gruesome final moments, the culmination of months of careful planning. To her surprise, eliminating him—a task she rarely found enjoyable—had brought a cold satisfaction. The assassin had witnessed the starving peasants, the horrific slave markets, the dilapidated villages where unfortunate dollar heroes were forcibly recruited to be sold as mercenaries abroad, and the brothels filled with kidnapped children for government officials. Those who discovered him the next day would be haunted by nightmares for the rest of their lives. Across the sprawling capital, his remaining family members were swiftly dealt with through more conventional methods. Their patron state, the largest and most powerful nation in Asia, and one of the top three globally, would soon need to install a more stable leader in the long-standing puppet regime—or perhaps, for once, allow the people to determine their own destiny. She shared the good news with the others, feeling a wave of relief wash over her.

“We’ll finally throw that party we’ve been talking about for months!” Mei had chimed in sarcastically.

As if in agreement with recent events, the weather offered a peaceful respite, heralding the long-awaited Spring, bringing a sweet calm both outside and within. The gentle moonlight filtered through the curtains, casting a warm, silvery glow across the room. Himeko examined her hands, marveling at the youthful radiance now gracing her alabaster skin. The lines of age that once marked her face had vanished, replaced by a vitality that seemed almost otherworldly. Her hair, formerly streaked with silver, now gleamed like polished jet, cascading around her shoulders in soft waves.

She felt alive, invigorated, as if the weight of years had been lifted from her shoulders. It was a strange, exhilarating sensation, this newfound vitality. She stretched her arms, marveling at the strength coursing through her lissome limbs, the aches and pains of decades gone as if they had never existed.

Yet beneath the thrill of her second chance lay a shadow of doubt, a whispered reminder of the price she had paid. She thought of the countless victims they had saved, the monsters they had vanquished. Each life reclaimed was a testament to the power of their mission, a reminder that darkness could be fought—even if it meant embracing the shadows themselves. It had been a pact with Hell, but one that had already yielded world-changing results she had never dared to imagine. The key would always be to judiciously choose targets, and if there was no other recourse—attempt to remove them with pinpoint accuracy, and the indifference of a vermin exterminator.

The danger would lie in succumbing to their own power. Because that could lead to carelessness that might expose them, or worse. No, they needed to remain anonymous, at least for now. What governmental agencies could be trusted with weapons such as these, or would be empowered to even employ them? Extra-legal was a mild term for what they did.

They were vampires. Killers, yes, but also a force wielded for a cause greater than themselves. Gazing out at the city below, her eyes reaching out to the infinite horizons, she knew that they would continue to fight, to shed light in the darkest corners of the world. The morality of it all had ceased to concern her. What would the world at large think, if they but riddled at what her girls had effected? Surely they would sleep more peacefully for a while, at any rate. Some would surely agree the ends justified the means. Perhaps one day, humans and vampires could find common ground, perhaps even a cure for the more… distasteful aspects of immortality. It astonished her how the changes of the previous months, the reversals of old, ingrained ways, had realigned her perspective; on justice, on morals…

…On life.

“Enough of worrying about tomorrow!” she laughed, the sound echoing in the quiet room. “The problems of this day are sufficient in themselves.” She turned to the window, touching the smooth, youthful skin of her lovely face, her reflection absent in the polished glass. It would still take some getting used too, but she had plenty of time. Her pretty lips curved into a small, knowing smile.

“People,” she decided, “can learn to get over almost anything. Easier still if you’re a vampire!”