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Colour Me Blood Red

By: DragonBlade
folder Prince of Tennis/Tennis no Ohjisama › AU - Alternate Universe
Rating: Adult ++
Chapters: 41
Views: 3,126
Reviews: 7
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Disclaimer: I do not own prince of tennis, characters or ideas, and I am making no money from this
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Chapter 36

It makes me laugh that 2 out of my 4 reviews are telling me to hurry up and post. It still classifies as a review, and thank you ...but it's still funny. I would have posted this Chapter faster ...but for some reason it gave me WAY more grief than it's worth.

Tragus; for those that don't know, it's that little piece of cartilage over the ear canal (I never knew what it was called until I got it pierced). I've started turning this into a doujin for the hell of it and drew Aka with a tragus piercing so it had to end up here ...no I don't know why.

Flight 101; I sometimes forget that other people might not get my references. Flight 101 means it went over his head.

I like Miyuki, shut up.

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CHAPTER 36

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

Kirihara swore to himself that he would stop making smart ass comments.

‘If Atobe and Sanada wanted him dressed up, they could damn well do it themselves.’ Whatever possessed him to think that Atobe or Sanada wouldn’t customize their Guards to make them suitable for their grand reveal he had no- “ouch! Dammit, stop poking me!” He cursed as he was jabbed with a needle for the fourth time in as many minutes.

Oshitari Yuushi shrugged and continued to pin the suit jacket around his sides.

He glared down at the dark haired, glasses wearing Vampire. The Vampire was enjoying it, Kirihara had no doubt of that …the fact that he was grinning kind of helped.

Yuuta, Kenya, and Kirihara had been picked up from their respective houses or hotels and brought to one of Atobe’s dance clubs. The basement was furnished as if it were a small apartment. A small, interior designer’s nightmare of an apartment. The walls were white, not that one could really tell past all the modern and older paintings on the walls. Statues from every era and artistic phase framed the doorways like quiet sentries; a bust on one wall, a twist of metal and bronze against the other. The furniture was white, with black cast iron accents throughout the room.

“Who the hell lives here?” Kirihara hissed; he felt like a bull in a china shop. A very EXPENSIVE china shop.

Oshitari glanced up at him over the rim of his glasses, needle clasped between his teeth, “I do.”

Kirihara glanced around, “next question. HOW the hell do you live here?”

Oshitari chuckled, “very carefully.”

The three were brought down to that basement, on Atobe’s request, to be fitted for suits. He refused to be seen with a rag-tag group who looked less like bodyguards and more like common thugs.

Yuuta had been picked first, having the broadest shoulders and roundest chest. To fit his shoulders the suit was a size larger than the rest of his frame needed, so it needed to be tapered. Oshitari stood him up on a stool and set about pinning in the sides. It was tight enough to be flattering, but loose enough to hide his shoulder rig. Atobe requested they all switch from how ever they carried their weapons, to a more concealed and standard shoulder holster.

Kirihara cursed again, “I don’t remember you jabbing Yuuta this much!”

Yuuta snickered from his position at the far end of the room, protecting the couch.

“You make much more interesting noises,” Oshitari drawled.

Like Yuuta, his shoulders were slightly too broad for the rest of his body. The sides had to be tapered drastically to fit his small waist. Oshitari clicked his tongue at the amount of work he was required to do for two simple boys. The cuffs slipped over his hands and Oshitari clicked his tongue again.

“What?” He shook his hands so the arms fell to their full lengths, completely concealing his hands. Kenya and Yuuta snickered. “I feel like I’m playing dress-up in my father’s suit.”

Oshitari rolled his eyes and pushed his glasses up with his wrist, “I thought Yuuta-kun would need a lot of work, and then I measured you.”

Kirihara resisted the urge to stick out his tongue. He was growing up! Woo, there was hope for him yet! “You talk like Kenya, you two related or something?”

Oshitari grinned, “distantly, but yes, we are.”

“How the hell did a Faerie and a Vampire end up in the same family?” Okay, maybe not. Kirihara stepped off the stool when Oshitari finished pricking him. He carefully slid off the jacket, which Oshitari took and sat aside.

“How the fuck did you-“

Oshitari waved a hand at Kenya to shush him, “I was turned many, many years ago, and because of the reputation of the Oshitari family, I was able to keep in contact with all those who came after me. Becoming one of the undead is not a curse to our family. One of Kenya’s great-great-some odd Grandmothers was Fae.” Oshitari explained while herding Kenya over to the stool.

Kenya grumbled and hopped onto the stool, slipping on the jacket that was offered to him. Oshitari talked quietly to his cousin while he pinned the sides of the jacket.

Their suit pants were measured next. Oshitari stood Yuuta back up on the stool, wrapping the measuring tape around his waist. He hummed for a moment, readjusting the tape so it wasn’t caught on Yuuta’s shirt.

“Strange, I thought you were smaller than that.” Oshitari shrugged and continued measuring.

“I think he just called you fat Yuuta,” Kirihara said helpfully.

Yuuta scowled at him, but the effect was ruined when he squawked and jumped when the Vampire’s hand nudged between his legs. “What the-“

“Inseam.” Oshitari waited for him to calm down and measured again.

Yuuta jumped down and Kirihara took his place, jumping just the same when Oshitari’s hand nudged him.

“Really?” Oshitari raised an eyebrow. He shook his head, “you boys are so oddly shaped! All shoulders and legs!”

Kirihara blushed and crossed his arms, “how did you get stuck measuring us anyway?”

Oshitari glanced over his shoulder, looking for something, “one picks up many skills after several hundred years.”

As it turned out, after everyone was measured, Yuuta was the only standard size. He slipped the pants on and quickly looped his belt through it, happy to be fully clothed again. Kirihara’s had to be hemmed, shocking, and Kenya’s needed to be let out.

Yuuta sat comfortably on the couch, fully clothed. Kirihara fiddled with the collar of the starched white shirt, he wasn’t used to dressing up. To him, dressing up was a clean t-shirt.

They were all told earlier on that they would be wearing proper equipment, unlike the out-dated stuff the Organization provided. All kids of equipment filtered through the Organization at one point or another, some accidentally on purpose borrowed from the police, others remarkably just showing up on Tezuka’s desk.

Oshitari finished the alterations in the time only a Vampire could manage.

Kirihara stood in front of a full length mirror, twisting and turning to see every inch of himself.

“Vain much?” Kenya snorted, adjusting his cuffs through the suit jacket.

“That’s funny coming from a bleach-blond Princess,” Kirhara grinned at Kenya’s reflection.

“You know, you can go fuck yourself,” Kenya smiled sweetly.

Kirihara chuckled and turned his attention back to the mirror. He stared forlorn at the loose black tie around his neck. Yeah, right. The door to the apartment open a moment later, but his attention was solely on the damn tie. He had never worn a stupid noose in his life.

He caught a glimpse of Shishido in the reflection before the Hunter punched him lightly in the shoulder. “What do you want?” Kirihara turned, giving Shishido more of his shoulder and blocking his failed attempt at tying the tie.

“You look pitiful fighting with that thing, let me help,” Shishido held out his hand.

Kirihara turned more, “I can manage on my own!”

“Clearly.” He stepped around to Kirihara’s front and batted his hands away. Looping the tie properly he tightened it, smoothing a hand down Kirihara’s front after it was in place. “There.”

Kirihara huffed and loosened the tie; Shishido was apparently trying to strangle him. Shishido rolled his eyes and wandered away as he continued to fret with his clothing. It was uncomfortable and awkward, too tight in all the places that he stretched the most. He only prayed he didn’t have to try and fight in it. Something was going to get ripped if he did, and it may or may not be on purpose.

A chill slowly crept up his spine as Atobe walked up behind him. The Vampire made no noise and finally out of frustration Kirihara spun around and snapped, “what?”

Atobe frowned at him and then glanced at his watch, “there’s no time, I guess it’ll have to do.” He turned on his heel but Kirihara’s indignant squawk made him turn back.

“What will have to do?!”

“Your hair. You look like you should be in the crowd with a camera with the rest of the 16-year-old groupies, not up beside us in a suit.”

Kirihara bit back several choice four-letter words and huffed. Maybe Atobe had a point. His hair had finally obscured his ears and a few curls were starting to brush the collar of his shirt. Normally his hair wouldn’t have bothered him, but there is a point where hair becomes unfriendly with earrings.

Atobe waved his hand in the air as if he were simply able to bush away the topic, “Kenya and Yuuta at least look professional, but I guess with such short notice you’ll do.”

That was about as much as his temper would allow, “you got a fucking proble-“ a chill ran so violently up his spine that his words died like a snuffed out candle.

“Ah,” Atobe perked up, “Sanada is finally here!”

Sanada opened the door to the apartment and stepped into the room alone.

“What? No entourage?” Atobe teased, fluttering over to Sanada’s side.

Sanada rolled his eyes at the other Vampire and brushed past him into the room. Kirihara screwed his eyes shut as sensations rolled over him. He was really never going to get used to this shit! He should be feeling hate and revulsion, but an almost giddy feeling was boiling in the pit of his stomach. Excited tremors kept jumping through his spine, chattering his teeth.

He felt instead of heard Sanada come up behind him, and instead of passing completely past him, Kirihara felt the tips of his fingers very gently fan the curls at the back of his neck. And then Sanada was gone, past him and moving on. Sanada immediately set out getting everyone hooked up and organized.

Kirihara stripped off his jacket as Sanada explained how their night would go. He half listened to the Vampire, more focused on how the hell he was going to get the white curly thing into his ear without pinching something or tugging his hair. While explaining plans to Atobe, Sanada crossed to him, taking the equipment from his hands. He hooked the pack around his waist and then attached the clip before stringing the cord behind him. He threaded his fingers through the dark curls to pull them away from his ear and stopped with a started, “hm!”

Kirihara chuckled, realizing Sanada had attempted to put it in the ear with his tragus piercing.

“Didn’t know you could put a piece of metal there …” Sanada mused quietly, finger very gently running over the surgical steel.

“You’d be surprised what they can pierce,” Kirihara stopped himself when he realized it sounded like he was flirting. He snapped his mouth shut, ignoring the sudden rise of Sanada’s eyebrows and pointed to his opposite ear. What the hell was his problem?! The excitement from just being around Sanada, and now flirting? Something was wrong. Kirihara closed his eyes as Sanada’s fingers threaded into the hair over his opposite ear; the small ear-piece was fit into the hollow of his ear, snug against the ear canal. Blocking out the gentle touches was harder than he though but he slammed that giddy excitement as far into his stomach as he could manage and focused on his walls. He built them thicker, closing the gaps that let him feel the Vampires around him.

Atobe and Oshitari vanished, the hum from the other psychics dulled, but Sanada remained. It was as if the Master was inside his shields with him.

“I wouldn’t even bother, it’s as futile as trying to shield from yourself,” Sanada whispered into his ear, mouth lingering a moment to long. Sanada’s hands seemed to linger too long in his hair, against his neck.

No, he was just imagining it. There wasn’t a tremor in the Master’s hands when he stepped away. “How the fuck do you know?” He turned quickly, catching Sanada off guard. With his head tilted back his face was close to the Vampire’s jaw. Too close. There was no pulse fluttering under the skin of his jugular, just smooth dark skin. Dead.

Dark brown eyes held his green, a dark brow arched as if to say ‘how do you think?’ Sanada stepped back from that challenging glare and turned his attention back to the room.

“We’re wasting time,” Atobe sighed impatiently. “My limo is outside waiting.”

Kirihara rolled his eyes and out of the corner of his eye caught Shishido doing the same. They were all ushered outside after some quick equipment tests, and as Atobe had said, there was a shiny black limo waiting.

“At least it’s not purple,” Sanada muttered, rolling his eyes.

Shishido climbed in the front with the driver and the rest piled into the back. Otori, Kenya, and Yuuta sat with their backs facing the driver, Atobe slid in and Kirihara found himself pressed between both Masters of the City.

He made sure every Hunter on the other side of the vehicle knew just how pissed he was. Otori shrugged slightly and Yuuta had the decency to look embarassed. If Kenya caught the message, he didn’t show it.

Atobe’s hand crept slowly over Kirihara’s knee, fingers tracing the sharp edges of his kneecap. When he opened his mouth to tell the Vampire where to go his breath drew in with a sharp gasp. A feeling of utter calmness washed over him, followed by a drowsy peacefulness, his mind screamed at him that something was wrong, but he couldn’t seem to follow why. His eyelids felt heavy and his head lolled back against the seat. Heat crawled over his skin and up to his cheeks.

“I would appreciate it if you didn’t feed off of him Atobe,” Sanada growled, his voice strained.

Atobe drew his hand back with a grin, “my apologies.”

Once his hand had broken physical contact Kirihara’s mind snapped back. The vehicle came rushing back to him as if it came from down a long tunnel. Atobe’s voice was piercing, like the first noise you hear when you wake up early in the morning. Rubbing his hands over his face, he realized he had almost been rolled by the Master. “What the hell was that!?” His voice trembled slightly, and he found himself wanting that touch back. “What the fuck did you do to me!?”

“He was feeding off of you,” Sanada answered.

Kirihara’s hand flew reflexively to his neck; even though he knew that anywhere there was a vein a Vampire could feed. Old habits and all. “Feed? He had his fucking hand on my knee!”

“Not all Vampires survive on blood alone.” Atobe glanced seductively at the Hunter through his long lashes.

“Uh, last I checked they did.” Kirihara frowned, this was somehow going over his head and he wasn’t sure why. Atobe’s gaze made the heat rise over his skin again and he quickly looked away before the Vampire took it as an invitation. He was noticing far too much; the full pout of Atobe’s mouth, the long curve of his neck, how his eyelashes fanned across his cheeks when he blinked …

Sanada threaded his fingers through Kirihara’s hair, and his green eyes refocused. “No, Akaya, not all.”

“Some Vampires feed off different types of energy.”

“What, like a Psi Vamp?” He didn’t like the fact that Sanada’s touch brought him back, but he was now able to see Atobe past the haze of lust. Sanada dropped his hand, but didn’t break their contact. His fingers drifted down his arm to rest against his thigh, fingertips barely touching.

Atobe grinned, “looks like someone’s done his homework.”

“Well, it’s kind of in the job description …” Kirihara’s frown deepened.

“Psi-Vampires, as you call them, feed mostly on the life force energy. There are others that feed on …sexual energy,” Atobe shrugged elegantly.

“Sexual? Wouldn’t that make you an Incubus?”

Atobe’s perfectly arched eyebrows drew up into his hairline, “I’m impressed, you really do know your stuff.”

“Except,” Kirihara held up a hand, “correct me if I’m wrong, but, aren’t Incubi more of a demon with wings and shit that feed through sexual DREAMS.”

Atobe nodded, “as you can see,” he turned so Kirihara could see over his shoulder, “no wings. And I can feed through dreams, but the energy isn’t as strong as having actual sexual intercourse, it’s mostly used if we are too weak, or unable to find someone to prey on.”

Kirihara rolled his eyes, “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

Otori’s chocolate brown eyes flew open dramatically wide. He opened his mouth to stop Kirihara but slapped his hand against his forehead when he was too late.

A large sinister grin spread slowly over Atobe’s face. “Good to know.”

Kirihara suddenly turned his attention to Sanada, “and what was with being the knight in shining armour and protecting my virtue?”

Sanada frowned, “because of our blood connection, he can feed off of me through you.”

Kirihara gaped, but for the first time he noticed that Sanada was breathing a bit harder than earlier and his face looked flushed. Vampires don’t flush. Was Sanada getting the backlash of whatever Atobe had made him feel?

“Well, you never let me feed off of you, so I had to get a taste somehow!” Atobe pouted playfully.

Flight 101. Kirihara blinked; more metaphysical Vampire bullshit, fantastic.

“There’s a reason I’ve turned you down Atobe,” Sanada’s deep voice dropped to a dangerous growl, “you’d be good to remember it.”

“Well, now that we’re forming an alliance, as the humans like to call it, you can indulge me without hurting your standing.” Atobe shrugged.

“It doesn’t work that way Atobe, I feed on blood. If you were the only one feeding on a Master, I would be seen as the inferior.” Sanada growled.

Atobe shrugged again, hands in the air, “I tried.”

The limo, which was more like an equipped town car, pulled up in a flash of cameras. They were at the site of Atobe’s newest dance club. The large court yard was filled with the flashing lights of hand held cameras and the shouts of everyone trying to be heard over one another.

Shishido was the first out of the car, and he opened the door facing the crowd. Otori and Yuuta slipped out next, forcing the first wave of the crowd back. Yuuta pressed his fingers to the piece in his ear, pretending to be listening to instructions as he let his mind scan the crowd. He had been working with Shiraishi while the other telepath was in town to strengthen his abilities. He wasn’t as good as Shiraishi, but he was getting better at focusing. The first several rows of people were clear in his mind, nothing hostile. Further into the crowd the thoughts and feelings became blended.

He only hoped Shiraishi was having better luck.

Atobe stepped out behind the two Guards and the lights in the crowd became blinding. Questions were shouted at him from reporters, mics and recorders were thrust in his face. Kirihara climbed out behind him and his slowly adjusting eyes were blinded. White lights flashed in his vision and he blinked to get rid of them. Wouldn't do them any good if he couldn't see past the bright shiney's floating in his line of sight.

He just knew he was going to end up on someone’s Facebook.

Sanada climbed out, followed at last by Kenya, who looked more like a move star than a bodyguard. The reaction was no less severe than Atobe’s. The Guards kept the crowd behind the lines as everyone made their way to the podium set up on the lower steps to the club.

The club itself was set up like an old Aztec temple. Three sets of short steps led up to the club, lined with small white lights. The courtyard was surrounded by actual flame torches; the dark burnished metal held an enclosed basket where the flames danced and licked through the gaps. The club was fashioned like an old sun temple; gold reflected the light from the torches, giving it the illusion that it was burning. On either side of the large door stood a horrific statue of a god, snarling mouth open. Where the stomach should have been was a large glass case - where the hearts from the sacrificed would be fed.

Kirihara took his place in front of Sanada, Yuuta at his side. Shishido and Otori stood before Atobe, and Kenya stood behind them all. The Guards were staggered along the stairs, eyes alert and hands free.

Atobe stood at the podium and the flash of lights was almost blinding. Kirihara sighed and let his mind drift, he knew enough of the speech that he wouldn't miss much if he didn't pay attention. His eyes scanned through the crowd that he could see past the lights. Older women were scattered through the typical reporters and paparazzi; fans, or women hoping to catch the eye of the rich bachelors.

He caught a few familiar faces in the crowd. Kaidoh was barely discernible past the camera on his shoulder, but his regular green bandanna gave him away. Ann shouted questions like a good little reporter from in front him. Her suit was a dark colour for the season, the pants pressed until there was a line from her thighs to her ankles. Her regular shoulder length hair was tied up, her hair clips abandoned for feathered bangs.

Zaizen snapped a camera from a few people to her left. His hair was styled normally, but he had donned a pair of thick framed black glasses. A silver spike in his bottom lip caught the flash from his camera. He thrust his hands deep into the pockets of his black jacket and shivered.

As Atobe started his speech a blood curdling scream ripped through the crowd, followed by hysterical shouts of ‘bomb’!

The crowd immediately scattered, everyone fleeing in every direction, just to get out of the courtyard. The Hunters in the crowd rushed forward, abandoning their props.

"What the fuck? A bomb? Seriously?!" Kirihara threw his jacket open, hand on the butt of his gun.

As the humans fled, lone figures were left standing, immobile. Slowly more and more emerged from the crowd. Dark figures, heads lowered, hoods and hats obscuring features.

Yuuta cried out and clutched his head, dropping to one knee on the steps. Kirihara spun to him but Sanada hissed for him to leave him alone.

“I’m okay Kirihara-kun,” Yuuta winced and cried out again.

Shiraishi shouldered Kirihara out of the way and dropped to Yuuta’s side. He pushed the glasses he had been wearing up over his forehead. He roughly ran his fingers through his slicked back hair, ruffling it.

“Too many voices at once,” Yuuta hissed, gritting his teeth in pain. Shiraishi cupped his hands over Yuuta’s ears and whispered gently to him.

The figures in the courtyard remained still, waiting. The lights from the flames flickering over them; illuminating first a flash of jaw, the curve of bottom lip, the highlight of a pupil. Their shadows flickered and scattered around their feet with what seemed like a mind of it's own.

“What are they waiting for?” Ann hissed, glancing back to Atobe and Sanada.

Atobe shrugged. Kaidoh slipped through the Hunters and placed his camera on the top of the podium. He hit record before returning to Ann’s side. Tezuka would want to see this.

All of a sudden, without warning, every figure moved. Hoods and hats flew back to reveal a pack of teenaged fledglings. They ranged easily from 15 to mid twenties, at the most. Weapons were drawn and readied and when the Fledglings entered the ring of torches Atobe cleared his throat.

“How much longer are you going to wait Sanada?”

Kirihara glanced back at the Master, what was that supposed to mean?

Sanada’s eyes flashed, lit as if from within, and suddenly all the torches flared. Flames jumped from one to another until an entire circle of fire surrounded them. The Fledglings stopped with startled shrieks, spinning around but finding themselves trapped.

“Don’t worry about the fire!” A voice rose out of the crowd and tremors of recognition ran up Kirihara’s spine.

Yohei forced himself through the crowd until he was in front of everyone, close to the Hunters on the steps. “We’ve come here with a purpose! Don’t fail her!”

The Fledglings shouted in renewed vigor and rushed forward again, drawing weapons.

“Mother-fucking Vampires with guns?!” Kirihara shouted, turning to shoot at a Vampire coming up on his side. There were way more Vampires than there were Hunters. “We’re outnumbered!”

“We noticed, little Demon!” Chitose growled, gun flashing in the darkness.

Gun blasts echoed over the screams as bullets whizzed around the courtyard. The flames surrounding everything jumped higher, reacting to Sanada’s heightened emotion.

“Where are my Vampires!?” He snarled at a Fledgling before putting his extended hand through it’s chest.

The Hunters started clearing a path and moved down into the courtyard. Without the uneven stairs they were able to fight equally and gain more ground over the blood spattered designed brick.

The Fledglings fought viciously, hands flashing as quickly as their guns went off. Razor sharp nails tore flesh, ripped clothing, drew blood with their own.

Ann ended up back-to-back with Zaizen, his right arm shredded from shoulder to elbow.

“You okay?” She emptied the clip of her gun and quickly switched to another.

“Fine, it looks worse than it actually is,” he grinned.

Kirihara cursed as he was circled, forced back closer to the flames. They might have been more dangerous to a Vampire, but fire still burned living flesh. He emptied his clip and when he was pulling another from his jacket something hit him from the side. Using the momentum from his fall he rolled and came back to his feet in a graceful twist. Instead of finding the ring of Vampires, he faced only one.

He was not facing some unknown Fledgling, he was face-to-face once again with Yohei.

The red-head had a gun leveled at his face, and Kirihara froze. No matter how fast he was, the Vampire was faster. He would have a bullet in his head before he even had his gun high enough. The slide was set back, showing that it was empty; he hadn’t had a chance to put the new magazine in.

Yohei grinned and tilted his head, “I’m not allowed to kill you …”

Kirihara shifted his weight to one leg, getting ready if he found the opportunity to bolt. Something was seriously wrong with the Fledgling. He had deteriorated more since the last he had seen him. His skin was taught and pale, even in the dim light he could see veins under his skin. The flickering flames threw shadows over his face, transforming him into something even worse, something malicious and demonic. His youthful child-like face was gone, leaving something he could only refer to as a Hollywood Nosferatu.

“But …I mean, we all have guns, what better way to make it look like more of your terrorists, and bullets ARE flying around …so if a random bullet happened to catch you, there’s no way of knowing where it came from …” a wide grin slowly spread across Yohei’s drawn face.

Oh shit.

He was trapped and staring down the barrel of a gun. The Vampire was too fast, but maybe he could move just enough? Before he had time to react the gun went off. He clenched his eyes shut; waiting for the inevitable. Instead of burning pain, something warm splattered his face. The gun went off again and someone grunted.

Kirihara’s eyes flew open to find his view of Yohei blocked by a broad back.

Sanada growled, “silver bullets, smart.”

Yohei dropped the gun out of panic and turned, fleeing back into the crowd.

Wiping the Vampire's blood from his face Kirihara grabbed his shoulder and forcefully spun him around. Sanada took a bullet for him! Forgetting how he was supposed to feel, trying to get himself to feel, he grabbed Sanada’s jacket in both hands and ripped it open, scattering buttons. The shoulder of the white dress shirt was red, the stain growing by the minute. He bat away Kirihara’s hands and put the jacket back in place.

“I’m fine Akaya.”

“Bullshit, you just took two silver bullets!” He ripped open the jacket again and noticed another red stain on Sanada’s lower stomach. “Fuck! Are they all the way through?”

Sanada pushed his hands away again, “no, they’re still in. I’ve healed over them but if I don’t take the bullets out at one point …”

“Yeah, I get it, silver allergy bullshit.” Kirihara sighed in frustration, “once this is over we’ll take them out.”

Sanada’s nose wrinkled as he stared down at Kirihara, “I can take them out myself …”

“I’ll fucking do it, you took two of them for me, it’s the least I can do!”

A scream from the crowd drew them both back to the fight. Kirihara found himself alone again as Sanada was circled by Fledglings. He had switched out his empty clip while running and now proceeded to empty the new one into whoever was unlucky enough to get in range. Several Fledglings turned on him when their companion dropped dead between them and managed to tackle him to the ground.

Stars burst in his vision when his head smacked into the brick ground, paralyzing him for a moment. Teeth and claws dug into his shoulder and side, tearing clothing and flesh alike. A gun flashed into his vision and the next thing he knew he was on his feet. Adrenaline had thrown the two Vampires off of him and surged him to his feet. With his eyes burning he stormed up to the prone Vampires. Atobe hadn't commented on his footwear, so he made sure to put his combats to use. Using all the force of his muscles and body weight he slammed his heel into the skull of a screaming Vampire, collapsing the skull. His skin burned as his anger took over again, blinding him as he unloaded his clip into the face of the other. Even after it clicked empty his finger still reflexively pulled on the trigger.

A hand found his and the gun was gently pried from his fingers. His attention slowly turned to whoever took his gun and he found himself staring into an unfamiliar face.

“Whoa there boy,” she said, handing his gun to someone behind her.

Her large chocolate brown eyes stared hard at him, as if she could read something on his face.

“You got it bad hun, Jesus.”

“Miyuki!” Chitose Senri ran up behind her, hand grabbing one of her pigtails. He stopped in mid action, “holy shit, what’s with that energy!”

Kirihara blinked, the distraction was enough to snap him from his daze. His eyes focused more and he was able to see the rest of the courtyard. Most of the Vampires were gone, dead or fleeing. Ann sat on the ground, reclining back on her hands. Her jacket was ripped off and there was a dark stain on her upper leg, but she looked no worse off than the rest of them. Shiraishi examined Zaizen’s arm while Gin fought one of the remaining Fledglings. Kenya had partnered with the equally fast Kamio and the two darted through the small crowds, taking out survivors and disarming the rest.

Kawamura stepped up beside Miyuki, letting Chitose pull her back. “Kirihara-kun, snap out of it.” He gently shook the Hunter’s shoulder.

Kirihara shook his head while rubbing his hands over his face, “I’m okay.” What the hell happened?

“He's the one with Vampire blood, right?” Miyuki fended Chitose off, “something’s wrong, it’s powerful.”

“And who the fuck are you?” Kirihara glared, he didn’t like people he’d never met knowing that much about him.

“Chitose Miyuki, I’m an empath. Your Vampire blood is conflicting with your normal energy, so you're pretty easy to pick out of a crowd. I felt you when I first got here and it was only mild, but just now it got so strong I couldn’t feel anything else about you anymore.”

“Chitose?” He blinked and pointed to Chitose Senri, completely blanking out everything else the brunette had just said.

Miyuki chuckled, “he’s my older brother.” She glanced over her shoulder to her older brother, "he is an airhead."

Chitose sighed, "I told you. But we better get out of here before the Police show up, bomb threats aren’t taken lightly.” He grabbed her elbow and tugged lightly.

“All right,” she brushed him off but followed as he joined back with Shiraishi and his team.

Kawamura sighed, drawing Kirihara’s attention back to him. “It’s a good idea, I have to get out of here.” He paused, eyes studying Kirihara. “This isn’t my place to really say anything, but your eyes turned red and your skin was starting to get really dark. I’m not one to judge, but you should be more careful.” Kawamura shrugged, handing Kirihara back his gun.

Kirihara nodded slowly.

As the extra Hunters fled he returned to the other Guards, scratched and bloodied. The torches burned low, some flickering completely out, and in the distance sirens could be heard.

Sanada closed his eyes and inhaled deeply and the torches all went out.

“What the hell?” Kenya jumped as the torch at his shoulder snuffed out.

“I’ve never seen a Vampire with powers like that!” Yuuta shook his head.

“Neither have I,” Atobe added, “he’s the first one ever to have control over certain elements. He’s one of a kind. Why else would I have torches all around my courtyard?”

“You planned for this attack?” Kirihara turned and frowned.

“No, but I planned incase there was an attack.” Atobe glared at Kirihara as if his plan was common sense.

Sanada’s eyes suddenly widened and his hands flew to his chest as if in pain. “Something’s wrong! Yukimura!” In a flash of black he was gone.
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