Chapter 7: Betrayal

It is twilight, and I have not rested.

My thoughts throughout the day have been troubling, refusing to slow, to fade. The kyūketsuki long for sleep, perhaps more than mankind. For us, waking life is the nightmare. Each night, we are haunted by the demonic urge to drink the blood of humans. Each life taken separates us further and further from what we once were. At least in dreams, we may discover a trace of the humanity we once took for granted. There, we may feel the peace the night denies us.

But if I find Tomo . . . if I can find love again . . . .

To find Tomo, though, I realize I must go back. I must face the threat of the vampire hunters and the kyūketsuki. If I do not, I am afraid I will not be able to uncover the mystery around Tomo. I have to learn what the vampire hunters know of him. I have to learn why they have his picture from the winter carnival.

The thought that it may be too late continues to lurk in the periphery of my mind, and I battle to keep it at bay. I cannot accept that Tomo may have fallen victim to the vampire hunters, though it explains so easily why they would have his picture. I know that cannot have happened. I know that I would have felt the loss. But if they did not find him and destroy him . . . how and where did they take possession of the photograph?

It is what I have to know. It is why I have to return, possibly to my peril.

When the sun finally disappears, I dress once again in Mukade’s clothing. I take all of Ai’s possessions and stow them carefully away in the house. They must remain until I return. This will be a safe haven for Ai while Mukade completes her mission.

I exit the house and make my way back into the city. My eyes seek out dark windows and rooftops for danger. My sense for blood will warn me when a vampire hunter is close, but the kyūketsuki could be anywhere, waiting for me. They will not have me. I repeat it over and over in my mind. They will not have me.

I am now deep into the city, close to the hotel where I killed the hunter. Only a day has passed, yet I have relived a lifetime within it. I tell myself that it has been but a short time and I may still find a clue I missed earlier—some seemingly insignificant hint of where to seek next for Tomo.

I turn to enter the alley behind the hotel. Koumori stands there, as if he has expected me for some time. I had dared to hope I might complete this mission unseen, undetected, as if I had never returned. I know that is not to be, now. This night will not pass without bloodshed.

Koumori is among the youngest of the kyūketsuki. He was one Okāsan chose to turn the last time we rebuilt the clan. She was attracted to his quick temper and lithe body. She was certain he would acclimate quickly to the ways of the kyūketsuki. She knew that he could become a skilled assassin. And, as always, Okāsan was correct.

Seconds pass before either Koumori or I act. We both realize the severity of this meeting. I can only attempt to convince him that I was not leaving the clan. I know that I will fail.

“Have you returned to us, Mukade?”

The words are not inviting. They are a judgment. I am already convicted of desertion. All that awaits is my sentence.

“I have returned, Koumori. I have spent the day worried over what the hunters might know. I thought it best to see if I might find any clue of how this one discovered us.”

Koumori smiles and shakes his head.

“No need to wonder, Mukade. Okāsan now knows how the hunter found us. She has uncovered everything.”

I sense a threat in his words. A promise of violence.

“What is it that she has uncovered?”

Koumori’s brows draw together. His face is crevassed by hatred.

“This day, Mukade, while we rested, the hunters invaded our home. Before we were alerted, five of us were killed. Two more died before we fled. If it were not for Okāsan and Tatsu waking us, there would be no more Kuroiwa clan.”

 Koumori pauses, his eyes fixed on mine, before he continues.

“You should have seen how we fought the hunters. They believed they could come and destroy us so easily. They did not realize the fury they would unleash. Okāsan . . . .”  He pauses again, looking down and smiling.  “She flashed about them, teeth bared, her blade streaming blood.  It was . . . beautiful.”

Koumori meets my eyes again.

“But you did not see any of this, did you, Mukade? You were not there.”

I feel my hand involutarily flex, begging to unsheathe my nodachi from my back.

“Be very careful with your words, Koumori. You risk an accusation.”

“No, I make that accusation!” Koumori bares his fangs. His eyes shine. “As she cut down hunter after hunter, the same words were repeated by Okāsan—’Where is Mukade? Why is she not here?’”

Koumori places his hand on the tsuka of his katana, but before he can begin to draw it, I have my nodachi in my hand. I rest it against my shoulder. I do not want this. Mukade has killed other kyūketsuki when commanded to do so by Okāsan. It was her duty as an assassin. She never dared do so against one of the Kuroiwa clan, though. She thought she would never have reason to.

“I should have been there, Koumori, but my absence does not make me a traitor. I have always been faithful to the Kuroiwa clan.”

“But you have never been of the Kuroiwa clan! You should have never been allowed among us!”

Koumori draws his katana. I raise my head, eyes open wide. Mukade rages inside of me. There is nothing left to reason. I run to meet my foe, teeth bared.

This night will not pass without bloodshed.

Click “Read more” for credits.

Credits:
Ai Ōnishi/Mukade
Hair: Deviant Kitties Alienor-Red
Skin: Deviant Kitties Runny – China
Eyes: Celestial Studios Mirror Amber
Outift: Bare Rose Tokyo Carmilla
Gloves: Musashi Leather Gloves
Boots: Beckenbauer Productions Revolver Darklord Boots
Sword: Musashi Tek Yakiba

Kourmori
Skin: SYD – Male Goth Skin
Eyes: Celestial Studios Mirror Gray
Outift: Bare Rose Tokyo Ninjya
Sword: Japanese Goods Shop Katana (black grip)

All pictures taken in the City of Lost Angels and the Fashion Victim sim.
Thanks to October Hush for her assistance in completing this chapter.