Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Soma’s duffel bag hit the ground with a dull thump. It was practically padded - overstuffed with clothing, zipper straining to keep flush with outer seam. He wasn’t the type to be too precious with something as trivial as luggage. The man before him, on the other hand…

Arikado stood stiffly, a streak of black ink against what could have been mistaken for normal domestic architecture. While the agent’s eyes followed the descent of his bag, Soma took advantage of their break in ocular gridlock to scan his surroundings. It was normal to be curious, right? Arikado was the type to inspire myriad questions, and even if the boy had never before wondered what kind of home he kept, standing right in it’s foyer had a way of invoking such things.

“You may enter.” Arikado’s gaze had landed on Soma once again, snapping him immediately back to attention. Why was he at such a loss for words and actions? He’d never had trouble brushing off Arikado’s nagging or acting in spite of his commands before, but this was just too personal. Haunted castles were easy compared to the agent’s sitting room.

Soma took a tentative step forward, feeling like a newborn deer and desperately hoping the agent couldn’t perceive his hesitance. Could Arikado smell fear? As his dark, cutting eyes followed Soma, it seemed like he could.

“I apologize for the mess.” Arikado spoke again. Soma breathed a sigh of relief as the man’s attention drifted to the room before them. Mess? What did he mean, mess? The living room looked like something out of an upscale magazine. It was totally spotless, and even the distribution of baubles looked mathematically perfect. An upright piano (did Arikado play piano?) stood against the wall, candlesticks sitting on the handkerchief spread across it’s top. Tall bookshelves stood on either side, lined with thick tomes and the occasional curio. A soft looking lounge chair nestled just beyond a coffee table, the table itself host to small stone decor and a book with a marker sticking out of its pages. Near the back of the room, a circular dining table was covered by a square linen, edges neatly centered to look like a diamond.

“I did the best I could to clean and prepare but… I suppose I don’t need to explain to you how sudden this all is.”

The person who ordered this doesn’t get to call it sudden, a voice in the back of Soma’s mind grumbled. For once he held his tongue.

“I can show you to your room, if you’d like?” The man offered, picking up on the other’s bewildered discomfort. Soma nodded, and Arikado turned toward a hallway, gesturing for him to follow.

It was a relief to have the man’s back facing him as they moved through the house. Once again Soma felt able to let his eyes wander. Like the sitting room before them, the halls were adorned with paintings - not photographs, but real, hand made paintings. He had only moments to take in each before Arikado led him past, but even in the scant light, individual brushstrokes were clear as day. Did this man actually live in an art museum? Or wait - could it be possible that Arikado himself had painted them? Soma squinted his eyes and looked back toward the agent. No, that didn’t seem right. An aesthete, maybe. But an artist? No.

Still, the persistently ornate decoration made him feel out of place. The house struck him as completely removed from reality - like something out of a fairytale. Soma had never seen anything of its ilk before.

Well, that wasn’t entirely true.

The regal furnishings and pristine attention to detail felt like a microcosm of that place. Both seemed as if scenes pulled from the history of foreign lands, snapshots of bygone eras long fossilized beneath the sands of time. Paintings, one could say.

No, that wasn’t a comparison Soma wanted to draw. A modest house on a wooded hill was a far cry from Dracula’s God damned castle. Both could easily be classified as strange real estate, but the latter was leagues more sinister than the former. A few paintings, a secluded locale, an old graveyard not far down the hill...Okay. He was losing the thread of talking himself out of the comparison.

Wait, so what if his house was a little creepy? It was literally Arikado’s job to investigate the supernatural.

That was his job, right?

It had to be something like that. He was an agent that worked for the government. Probably. In the year Soma had known him, he’d never actually explained his position. In fact, he’d barely explained anything. He’d become a regular fixture in Soma’s life, showing up now and then to check on his health and make sure darkness wasn’t rearing its head. He was always polite, never intrusive, and made himself scarce as soon as the work was done. It was quite a detached relationship. Soma couldn’t call Arikado a friend. He was something more like an acquaintance - but granted greater importance by the times they’d fought alongside each other. A comrade? No, that still didn’t feel right. Arikado was older and (though he loathed to admit it) wiser. The only way to put them on the same level was to brazenly ignore the clear distance in their positions.

Soma turned his gaze from the paintings back to the man in front of him - just in time to meet a facefull of suit coat.

Arikado had stopped walking and Soma had been too distracted to notice.

The boy stumbled backward, regaining his balance amidst a rising tide of embarrassment. He’d arrived just minutes ago and he was already making a nuisance of himself - How was he supposed to live here at this rate?

Arikado looked over his shoulder first, his body then following to face Soma. A note of surprise momentarily crossed his face, but other than that he stood unphased. As if nothing had happened, the man turned his attention back toward the door in front of them. Maybe he really thought nothing of it, disregarding the error and getting back to business. That, or he was ignoring the boy’s mistake out of pity. He wasn’t sure which he preferred, but Soma did feel he might turn to stone on the spot if any more attention was brought to his slip up.

“This room will be yours. I was just using it as a storage space before, so you’re free to do whatever you like with.” Arikado pushed the door open as he spoke. Gathering his wits, Soma peeked past the man and into the room - his room, now. It was spacious, over half the size of the apartment he’d been living in prior. He thought back to his duffel bag and the few boxes he’d brought with him. What would he even do with that much space?

Arikado stepped aside, giving him a clear path to enter. Soma tentatively stepped forward, peeking his head through the doorway and looking left and right - almost as if surveying for danger - before entering. The bare essentials were already there; a bed, an armoire, a desk. The room was sparse despite their inclusion.

“The rest of your boxes should arrive soon. I’ll let you get settled in.” Arikado stepped back from the doorway as Soma turned to look back at him. “If you need anything, I will be in my office. It’s down the hall and to the left. We passed it on the way here. My bedroom is to the right if I’m not there.” Soma recounted their steps in his head, piecing together a floor plan. He lowered a brow in confusion.

“What about the door between the two? The one at the end of the hall?” The boy asked.

“That’s the way to the attic.” Arikado’s voice was flat. “There’s nothing of interest there.”

A beat of silence hung between them. Assuming no more answers were needed, Arikado began his departure down the hallway. Soma rushed to the doorway, propping himself in its frame and sticking his head out to catch the man before he left.

“Uh, thanks for having me, Arikado.” the agent paused as the boy spoke. “And- Well, sorry for earlier. I wasn’t really looking where I was going and-”

“It’s alright, Soma.” The man gave him a small nod before continuing and disappearing around the hallway’s bend, leaving Soma alone in the bare, unfamiliar room.

Soma woke to the rumble of his phone. The blue light of its screen spread brash illumination across the corner of the room. He squinted, grabbing the device with one hand while raising the other to rub his eyes. His first order of business was pulling down the lock screen menu and dropping its brightness to the lowest setting. Eyes no longer burning, he propped himself up on an elbow and tapped the newest notification. Mina had sent him a picture - a plate of food, likely her dinner. This had become a common occurrence; recently she’d become quite invested in cooking after watching season upon season of a foreign competition show. In the event Soma was around for her kitchen endeavors, he became a willing guinea pig. He’d have to be an idiot to pass up on fresh cooked meals, even when they didn’t turn out as desired. More importantly though, Mina loved to hear feedback and Soma loved to give it. He wasn’t exactly a culinary expert (in truth, his staple meal was cup noodles), but he could always find something to compliment, or at the very least reassure her if things went wrong.

Soma smiled and began typing out his response. He stopped short when he noticed that the picture wasn’t the message he’d just received. It's time stamp showed 7:23pm. The message following it wished him well and ended with a goodnight. It was marked at 11:52pm.

Soma straightened up, finally taking a good look at the space around him. It was dark, of course it was dark! He was lying on his side in the provided bed, on top of the covers and still in his clothes. Recollection assembled as he shook the bleary fog of sleep from his brain. He’d taken a break to text Mina, and at some point the day’s exhaustion must have taken over. Discomfort set in as he realized how poorly jeans and a turtleneck served as pajamas. At the very least, he’d had the sense to throw his coat over the desk chair.

The boy pocketed his phone, kicked his legs over the side of the bed, and got to his feet. Without the dull, electronic light of the screen, the room was cast into inky shadow. Half-unpacked boxes and their former contents were scattered across the floor. He strained his eyes against the darkness, looking for the duffel bag that held most of his clothes. He was used to faint light pollution from neighboring buildings, but Arikado’s home was an island amidst a sea of trees.

That, and the curtains were closed.

A thin strand of silver shone between them. It made for a clear enough mark of his destination, but the real trouble was navigating his way there. He took the phone from his pocket and turned on the flashlight. The LED was more than enough to illuminate his path and ward him from crushing anything important. He made his way to the windows, throwing open the first set of curtains, then the second, then the third. The world outside was steeped in the cool moonlight of a cloudless sky, it’s reign cut short only by the tree line at the edge of the property. Darkness swelled there, dense and discourteous. For a moment Soma peered towards it, willing his vision to improve as it sometimes had in times of trouble.

Remembering his task, the boy turned from the window and surveyed the room. The hazy light lifted the night’s veil, revealing to him all that rested there. What he desired, however, was nowhere to be found. Recollection condensed. He’d left his duffel bag in the foyer when he’d first arrived. He’d never moved it, so that was where it stayed. For a brief moment, Soma considered crawling back into bed, jeans and all. But he persisted, making his way to the door before pausing. A window at the close end of the hall granted the pathway some light, but it’s grace was swallowed all too soon by the pervasive darkness that dwelled in the hallway’s junction. Soma went over the direction’s he’d been dealt earlier. Three doors stood near the turn, the first leading to Arikado’s bedroom, the last leading to Arikado’s office, and the middle to the attic.

Soma clicked his phone’s light off, then took a ginger step into the hallway. The floor was wooden, and thus far it had been compliant with his wishes and abstained from creaking. A long, maroon rug ran the length of the hallway, further padding his steps. Arikado was likely asleep, and Soma had no desire to wake him. As he crept deeper into the darkness and his eyes began to adjust, he took note of the state of each entry way. The door to the agent’s bedroom was ajar, as was the one to his office. Both rooms were dark. The attic’s door was tightly shut, just as it had been in daylight. As he rounded the corner and drew past the office, the soft promise of light ahead greeted him. The sitting room was home to a large picture window, and as Soma reached the end of the L-shaped hallway he was met with pristine tomes, paintings, and candles bathed in shimmering moonlight. The window faced a patch of land that dipped down to create a hillside, tree tops bowing downward in a cascading symphony with the land. The moon rose above it all, a perfect, full crown in a star-sprinkled sky.

Government jobs could get you a pretty nice place, it seemed. He took a moment to drink in the scenery before slipping into the adjacent foyer to retrieve his bag. Even as the half wall that sectioned off the area cast long shadows on its contents, his bag was easy enough to find - it was right where he’d left it, after all. He hiked it on his shoulder, then turned to retrace the path back to his room. As he did so, his eyes hit the sitting room once more and he froze.

A figure now stood there, framed against the light of the picture window. Soma opened his mouth as if to speak- or perhaps to apologize- or perhaps to exclaim his surprise- but he found there was no need. Arikado wasn’t facing him; Soma could only see a sliver of his face in profile as he gazed out toward the moon. The man’s gaze was steadily set outward. Hands in front of him, he seemed to be holding something, but the angle made it impossible for the boy to puzzle out what it might be. Arikado either paid Soma no mind, or hadn’t noticed his presence. Whatever the truth may be, he had no intention of sticking around to find out.

Quietly as he could manage, Soma slipped back to the dark hallway. Despite his desire to escape to his room unnoticed, he paused for a moment at its mouth. A glint of silver at the threshold of shadow, he turned to look back. Had Arikado been there the whole time? Certainly not at the window, but perhaps nestled in a lounge chair or pressed against a bookcase? It was hard to say, as the boy hadn’t concerned himself with the drapings of the room when he’d entered. Maybe the agent had simply been in the kitchen and strolled out when his back was turned.

Whatever the case may be, for the moment Arikado seemed content. He stood still and serene, a drop of darkness against pale glow.

Soma didn’t know anything about him. Nothing at all.

Chapter Text

When the dark of the night is darker, and the light of the dawn is… lighter. A groggy Soma was too caught up in shielding his eyes from the morning sun to string together anything poetic. The curtains he’d throw open the previous night had unsurprisingly stayed open, creating a clear path for deadly morning rays to accost him. It was half past seven - far earlier than he usually woke up, but seeing as he’d slept for something like 12 hours, he wasn’t too keen on snoozing any longer.

He threw the blanket and linens off himself and sat up, running a hand through messy hair. How was it possible to feel exhausted after resting so long? Hanging his feet off the bed, Soma took a moment to look out the window. The woods still stood, a sturdy wall between Arikado’s house and the outside world. The morning light gave it a far less intimidating demeanor. In fact, it was kind of beautiful. He had of course seen forests before, but the boy's experience was mostly limited to the groves that sprung up on the edges of his hometown. This place, seemingly disconnected from the wider world, was different.

Something flitted between the trees as he looked on. Probably a bird, but he was too far to say what kind.

Finally he lifted himself fully onto his feet. Glossy wooden flooring was cool on his bare soles as he strode toward the door, the chaos of his unpacking proving much easier to navigate in the light. Once again, he peeked out the doorway before fully leaving his room. The hallway was far easier to parse now. As he walked he found the door to Arikado’s bedroom to be slightly ajar, and the door to the attic closed. This time, however, the door into Arikado’s office was wide open. Soma half expected the agent to be seated inside, but as he passed he found it empty. Seizing the moment, he slowed his pace and peered within.

At first he was struck by how standard the set up was; Desktop, filing cabinet, lamp, and chair. Everything a normal job would entail. Quickly though, he found the stranger details. Half of the wall behind his desk was covered by a sturdy looking wooden cabinet. It didn’t look to be a standard wardrobe, but beyond that Soma couldn’t place it. The other half of the wall was covered in shelves decked with thick tomes that wore their age on their sleeves. A window sat on the wall parallel to the door, and to either side of it hung crosses, rosaries, and other spiritual trinkets. The desk itself was neat and tidy, holding little outside of office supplies, a few stacks of papers, and an oval-shaped portrait on a stand angled towards the chair and away from the door.

Moving further down the hall, a view of the wall opposite the desk opened to him. There hung a large, long painting of an unfamiliar countryside. Brushstrokes swirled into morning fog lying low in green crests and valleys. A town of grey stone and red brick nestled into the lowest and largest stretch of land. It flourished along a river, congregating and growing until the buildings reached the foot of a domineering titan. The castle stretched high above the township, its spires arching off from the main body of the keep at nigh-impossible angles. It’s striking form was instantly mesmerizing - but only after a moment of staring did recognition hit Soma like a blow to the stomach.

This was the castle from the eclipse.

Dracula’s castle.

A shiver ran down Soma’s spine and he instinctively took a step back from the office. Why? Why did Arikado have a painting of that terrible place? And in his office, no less!

No.

Soma pulled in a deep breath and thought back to everything else in the room. That was precisely why it was here - this was his office, and managing things like Dracula’s castle was Arikado’s job.

Probably.

Dissonance sorted, the boy felt a sudden pull of curiosity. Dracula, terrifying figure though he was, no longer existed - Soma did. Bar three harrowing incidents, his life had been almost entirely detached from anything relating to the dark lord. He tried his best to keep that looming shadow from his mind, but in the moment, a desire for knowledge overcame him. He stepped into the office, eyes locked onto the scenic image. In a past life, that had been his home.

It was hard to imagine, and suddenly the view felt more puzzling than horrifying. What had he expected to feel? To see? The piece in its entirety easily took up the whole of his vision, yet his gaze stayed steady on that single point.

The soft sound of ceramic hitting table broke him from his trance. Quickly he turned his head toward its source - the sitting room. The boy pulled himself back to his original objective, leaving the office behind and rounding the corner into the large room.

The light was at its most intense here, the great picture window perfectly framing the gold, orange, and pink sunrise. It’s shine streaked in and painted everything in the room with warm hues - including the man seated at the dining table within. His back to the sun, Arikado sat with a book in one hand and a mug in the other. Curls of steam laced through the slivers of sunrise as he raised the cup to his lips and took a sip. He then shut the book and brought the mug silently back to the table. Opposite him, another mug had already been set. Soma looked back to Arikado and found the man was now looking at him. The agent gave a nod and gestured toward the second seat.

“How did you know I was awake?” Soma moved towards the table with slow, careful movements.

“Just a lucky guess.” His tone was soft as he responded, more relaxed than Soma had ever witnessed from the agent. The boy took the seat opposite him and checked the mug’s contents. It’s acidic smell and dark color was a dead give away. Coffee wasn’t something he made a habit of drinking - the bitterness was too much for him. He looked up from his cup and squinted. The climbing sun behind Arikado made it hard to look anywhere but directly at him. His eyes were trained on Soma in turn, curiously looking him over. “I take it you slept well?”

Soma grimaced, suddenly keenly aware of his messy bedhead and well-worn pajamas. One of his sleeves was pushed up to his elbow, while the other laid flat, clearly too long to properly fit his arms. Arikado, on the other hand, had already donned a three piece suit. It looked crisp and precise, as if freshly retrieved from the dry cleaners. His long hair was combed and coiffed, looking almost golden in places in the morning sun that enclosed him like a halo.

“I slept too well, I think.” Soma fought through the indignation brought about by his current state of dress and answered the agent. As if marking the end of his sentence, he brought the mug to his lips and took a great slurp from it.

Shit. It was hot.

He forced the bitter, burning liquid down his throat, then promptly set the mug back on the table. All the while he did his best to keep a calm face.

“I can understand that.” Arikado’s eyes wandered to his book. “You went to sleep quite early. You must have been exhausted after everything that happened.” The air stiffened with his words, and Soma’s grimace turned to pointed frustration.

“Packing up everything I owned and moving was exhausting. Everything else I could handle.” The boy spoke carefully - he wanted to be heard on this point, but was weary of the other’s reaction. “It’s not like I had much time to prepare.”

Arikado let out a sigh before speaking.

“I know that you find this arrangement to be less than ideal, but once again, I assure you it is necessary.” Soma opened his mouth to retort, but was swiftly cut down by the man. “This is the second time you’ve been attacked - this time at home. It’s becoming a pattern.”

“So you want me to just sit and do nothing? Why not root out the source of the problem like we did with Celia?” He had to act fast if he wanted to get a word in before Arikado tried to refute him.

“Soma, it’s not that simple.” He frowned. “Best we can tell, there is no source. That vampire was a follower of Dracula. The unfortunate reality is that the truth about your identity has spread. Julius, Yoko, and I are doing all we can to eliminate the one who attacked you, but even after we do, it is likely that others will follow.”

“Okay, then we eliminate the followers of Dracula. It’s as easy as that!” Arikado knit his brow at the boy’s proposal.

“It’s not easy at all - what do you think I’ve been doing all my life, Soma?”

“I don’t know! It’s not like you ever tell me anything!” He snapped, frustration rising to a clear fever pitch.

“There are some things in this world that it is better not to know.” Arikado drew up from his chair in a steady, terrifying motion. The disintegration of his patience was swift and fierce, leaving in its wake a void that domineering intensity quickly rushed to fill.

This was far from the first time Arikado had barked at him, but here, in the agent’s shadow, he suddenly felt small. Soma fought the instinct to pull back. He had more to say - more to demand. It was bitter trepidation he swallowed this time.

“So you’re just going to keep me in the dark forever.” Try as he might to match the immovable grandeur of the other, his words came out strained and dripping with vexation.

Arikado closed his eyes and exhaled. A frown was still tightly pulled across his face, but he refused to answer. Quickly and quietly, he gathered his effects and strode coolly past soma and into the kitchen behind him. He heard a rush of water from the sink and the sound of ceramic hitting metal. Soma cast his eyes downward, tapping the handle of his mug with his thumbnail.

“I have matters I need to attend to today and, if I’m not mistaken, you have a meeting with Julius.” Arikado spoke as he moved past Soma and toward the foyer. “We both expect you to keep to your current schedule. It’s for the best.” The boy didn’t look at him as he spoke.

Footsteps stopped. The man paused, mulling over words.

“All things come in good time.” Arikado’s tone was still stern, but it was a degree softer now. “But you’re still very young, Soma.” Silence stood, and sentences ran through the agent’s mind. Imperceptible to the boy, he drew another breath, speech on the tip of his tongue.

But Arikado lost heart, and his next words would never be.

I can’t hold that against you, so please try not to hold it against me.

Chapter Text

Soma let himself fall back against the earth. Soft grass cradled him as he panted, beads of sweat light on his forehead. When he finally opened his eyes, Julius stood above him, offering a hand to help him up. The boy waved it away.

“I’m fine for now.” He managed between breaths. His ribs ached, his lungs were on fire, and his legs felt tight and sore. This all he was used to - and truly, it wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle. Julius had a knack for knowing when to call it a day. A boon of experience, he supposed.

“Well I hope you don’t expect an old man to join you on the ground.” The Belmont ambled over to one of the carved marble benches that dotted the field.

“You don’t get to kick my ass then complain about how frail and grey you are.” Soma lifted himself onto elbows. “That bit is getting old.”

“How old?” Julius lifted an eyebrow.

“About as old as you.” Soma grinned, and the man burst out in hearty laughter. The exchange was a common occurrence, a joke that had sprung up between the two in the months since they’d raided With Light’s compound.

“Banter aside,” Julius crossed his arms and let out a deep breath. “You’re improving. What was that? Six different souls you used?”

“Seven, counting the one you can’t see.” The boy clenched his fist, feeling the Minotaurs boiling strength slowly dissipate. The Belmont nodded, clearly impressed. It proved to be a difficult process - retaining and training his dominion over souls outside of immediate danger, but he was making steady progress.

“Ah, youth.” He gave a wistful smile, raising his eyes and taking in the light breeze and gentle blue sky. “I used to be like that too, growing so fast and picking up new skills in a snap. Enjoy it while you can.”

Soma’s expression fell at the sentiment. He sat up fully, drawing his knees toward his chest and leaning his arms and chin on them. There was no time to dwell during his training sessions with Julius - the older man may have been over the hill, but he was still a fearsome and acutely skilled opponent. If the boy didn’t give it his all when they sparred, he would get tossed around like a rag doll (something he knew from personal experience). But now, sitting in the grass and catching his breath, the events of the morning flooded back into his mind and the chip on his shoulder returned.

Julius took note, his dreamy smile fading.

“I was surprised to see you out here.” The old man started. “Thought you might be too worn out from the past couple of days. I told Arikado you could take the day off.”

Soma rolled his head to the side and made a sour face.

“So it is troubling you, then.” Julius scratched his beard. Letting out a deep, gravelly Hmmm. The man’s demeanor quickly became serious as he reflected on what he knew of the boy’s situation.

“What's troubling me is that Arikado is a giant-”

“May I remind you that you’re still on church grounds, mister Cruz.” A sweet alto voice had cut off Soma before he could finish. Julius stifled a chuckle in spite of himself as Yoko strode through the field toward them. “Looks like you two wrapped up rather quickly today.”

“Yes indeed, but not due to any slouching on Soma’s part.” Julius gave an exaggerated nod. Yoko’s arrival had lifted his spirits - an easy task, seeing as he was a tough man to keep down. “And he’s earned a break, wouldn’t you say?” He reached out and clapped a hand on the boy’s shoulder - forgetting his own strength and Soma’s comparatively diminutive size, and accidentally shaking his entire torso in the process.

“I’d certainly agree.” Yoko smiled. She’d had her worries when the two first began sparring, but things had worked out extraordinary well. The comradery built upon their clash in Dracula’s castle was rock solid. Apparently trusting someone to kill you if things went south made a great foundation for friendship.

Or perhaps it was that interwoven destinies didn’t unknot themselves that easily. Be that the case, she couldn’t complain with how the fates had panned out. Despite the hardships and close calls, seeing Soma brought her a great sense of peace. Since childhood she’d known of her family's history and where it intersected with the Belmont’s duty. Those were tales of heroism and pride, but they were also tales of immense suffering - for everyone involved. If there were even a miniscule chance those stories could meet their end now, she’d spend her life protecting it.

“Now, what's this about Arikado?” Yoko’s question prompted an immediate groan from Soma. The woman put a hand on her hip. She couldn’t help but give the boy a pity-laden smile. “Hey, even if it’s hard right now, I’m sure things will get easier.”

“That’s easy for you to say. You don’t have to live with him.” Soma snipped.

“It’s not like I didn’t try once upon a time!” Yoko shook her head, her words immediately eliciting a deep belly laugh from Julius and turning the tips of Soma’s ears pink. He’d heard enough about Yoko’s love life - including her swift rejection by Arikado - from Hammer. “I mean it, though. He may not be the most forthcoming, but there’s no doubt in my mind that he has your best interests at heart.”

“Yeah, ‘best interests’, ‘for the best’, that’s what I keep hearing.” The boy grumbled. “I don’t see how it can be what's best for me when it makes me miserable.”

The woman’s smile dropped. Soma had always been the type to take things in stride, so seeing him gloomy wasn’t just rare, it was worrying. Yoko brushed a lock of hair behind her ear, reorienting herself within the conversation. It would take more than a bit of annoyance over their management of him to lay his mood so low - something must have happened.

“Soma, if something is making you miserable, tell him.” Her tone had grown soft and reassuring. The boy looked to her from where he sat on the grass, disbelief clear as day on his face. “He’ll listen to you.” She continued. “I know he will. But you’ve got to tell him what’s upsetting you.”

“With all due respect,” Soma started. “Didn’t you just announce your bias to us?” Even as she shook her head, Yoko smiled. He always managed to be such an incorrigible smartass. Despite everything Soma was, he looked so small sitting there before her.

“This isn’t about me, Soma. I’m just a colleague, but you-” She paused for a moment, searching for the best way to express her point. “You’re different, Soma. Arikado will listen to you in a way unlike how he might listen to myself, or to Julius. So tell him what you're thinking. You have to try.”

The boy took a moment to chew on her words. He knew his comment had been shallow - Yoko wouldn’t let something inconsequential as fleeting infatuation sway her, not when it came to helping him. Genuine belief lay under her words, Yet even as she spoke from the heart, her deep care for him on her sleeve, something spiteful in the pit of Soma’s stomach craved petty revolt.

“Arikado is the genuine article.” Julius added, his gruff voice ringing strong with conviction and trust. “I may have been the front line, but without him, we would have never managed to defeat Dracula and seal his powers away. He looked out for myself and our comrades then, and he does the same now. He works in strange ways, but I could never doubt that he is a force for good in this world.” He nodded curtly as he spoke, staring into the middle distance as he recalled the once-forgotten memories.

“I believe you.” Soma acquiesced to them with a sigh. “I guess I just wish… Why couldn’t it have been one of you instead? You’re both capable, right? So why did you choose someone so difficult to stick me with?” Yoko and Julius shared a look, something silent passing between them.

“Soma…” Yoko was the one to answer him. “It was never really a choice. We didn’t debate where you’d go.” He knit his brow in confusion at her words. The woman tried again. “What I mean is, it was a foregone conclusion. As soon as we decided to act, Arikado had already decided he would become your guardian. He insisted. Julius and I were never even options.”

Confusion remained on Soma’s face. Arikado had chosen this? The boy didn’t understand. What could have driven such a choice - was it out of some haughty sense of responsibility? Clearly the man had a particular fixation on Dracula; he kept a painting of the dark lord’s castle in his office and owned furnishings reminiscent of its interior. Hell, even Arikado’s fashion sense was befitting of a vampire.

A thought crossed Soma’s mind.

Was Arikado perhaps some sort of creep?

Could it be that the agent was a Dracula fanboy? That his entire stint as the government’s go to paranormal investigator was the evolution of a fanatical interest in monsters of the bloodsucking variety? Was the continued concern he showed Soma not merely a part of his job, but a personal obsession, a strange veneration of his previous life?

The thought was enough to make him shiver.

“Soma my boy, you’re looking a bit pale.” Julius's warm baritone pulled him out of his trance. He shook off his thoughts. The scenario he’d imagined was unlikely but… still possible. He could investigate on his own time, but dwelling now would just cause Julius and Yoko to worry over him. “Everything alright there?” The older man asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Finally Soma pulled himself to his feet. He hooked his fingers together and lifted them over his head, giving his body a well earned stretch. Ribs still ached, but the brief respite had done him some good.

“Well if you’re still feeling mopey,” Yoko began. “It might cheer you up to hear that someone’s waiting for you outside the chapel.” Almost instantly, Soma perked up to attention like a dog. His gaze snapped away from Yoko and fixed on the building behind her. Much like the older woman, Mina didn’t enjoy watching him and Julius spar. However, now and then she would come to see him after their sessions - often with an unnecessary (but nonetheless appreciated) first aid kit in tow.

Soma wasted no time, scooping up his discarded coat and sprinting towards the church. Suddenly remembering the contents of the last 5 minutes, he slowed himself enough to turn and wave to his two friends.

“I, uh, appreciate it.” He stumbled, not quite sure what to say in the wake of their council. “Thanks for the words.” Manners minded, he set his full attention on reaching Mina.

“Whatever will we do with that kid.” Yoko let out a deep breath and smiled. She turned her attention back to Julius before continuing. “Do you think Arikado will ever tell him?”

“He better.” The man crossed his arms and gave a grin. “Or we’ll tell him ourselves.”

There were still a few hours of daylight left, but Soma had no desire to stay out late. He was smart enough to know not to push his luck - especially not when Mina was with him. While he felt confident that he could defeat a vampire (if it didn’t have the element of surprise, this time), he wasn’t looking to invite trouble onto his friend.

The woozy, comfortable fatigue of a long day was starting to overtake him. His morning match with Julius was little but echoes of pain at this point, but he was sure it would return as full blown soreness in the morning. For now though, he could enjoy the simple pleasure of fresh air and good company. The pair walked a wide, dirt path through the grove that surrounded Arikado’s home. The residence was out of the way and impossible to reach through traditional means, but it was at least a mercy that the forest was bright and thin.

“You really don’t have to walk me the whole way if you don’t want to.” Soma looked back at the ground they’d covered as he spoke. “There’s still the trip back, y’know.” There’d been a lull in conversation between the two, and the boy had realized how far the trip to and from the closest bus stop had been. The usual scenario saw him walk Mina back to her family’s home, then make the trip back to his apartment by himself.

“But I do want to.” Today though, their roles were reversed; Mina had insisted she see him back to Arikado’s house. “I’ve gotta do my part to keep you safe, too.” She punctuated the sentence with a devilishly sweet grin.

“Nooo!” Soma rolled his head back and gave a dramatically exaggerated groan. “With you on the Soma guard, everyone else will be so outclassed they’ll have to give up and quit!” He turned to face her. “Then what will they do, Mina? They love breathing down my neck so much, how can you take that away from them?” His pantomime of anguish quickly gave way to a goofy grin as the girl beside him laughed gently.

Watching her smile was all the entertainment he needed. For a moment he regretted calling it a day after just a few short hours spent together. But no, there were always more days, and Mina herself wouldn’t abide by him acting reckless right now.

Suddenly her expression shifted - surprise took over her face, curiosity joining it a moment later as she stopped walking and looked past Soma. He turned his head to follow her gaze, but found nothing bar the sea of trees behind him.

“Are there lots of birds around here?” Mina’s words brought his attention back to her. “Like, strange ones. I thought I saw a green bird just now.”

“What, like a peacock?” Soma glanced back at the forest. Considering everything he’d seen so far, he wouldn’t rule out Arikado keeping an exotic bird as a pet.

“No, something smaller than that…” Her eyes scanned across the scenery, eventually landing in front of them. “Oh, is that it?” The girl lifted a hand to shield her eyes from the sun. The house was now visible from where they stood on the incline. She started forward with renewed vigor, leaving Soma to catch up. When she arrived at the edge of the property, Mina put a finger to her chin and frowned. “It’s not exactly what I imagined from your description. It’s so… normal.”

“Maybe on the outside. But the inside…” Soma paused, mulling over a few of the stranger details. He wasn’t terribly enthused to be returning, but there was something refreshing about the kick Mina got out of seeing the place.

“Well, I’m glad I got to see the outside, at least.” She turned her attention back to the boy. “Right, that reminds me. Grandpa told me this morning he’d teach me some more advanced charms soon. If I learn anything useful, you’re gonna let me use them on you.”

“Your charms are welcome any time.” He dug his hands into the pockets of his coat.

Suddenly a faint whisper of recollection hit him. Soma lowered an eyebrow.

“Your Grandpa was there when Julius defeated Dracula, right?”

“Yeah, he doesn’t talk about it much, but he was there.” Mina answered, light concern clouding her face.

“Do you remember when that happened? Like what year?” Despite his best efforts, the boy’s tone had taken on a serious note.

“I think it was… 1999?” Mina looked into space as she did some mental math. “Yeah 1999. I remember Mom telling me she was 5 at the time, so it would have to be around then.” Soma looked back to the house and furrowed his brow. Remembering himself, he shook off the expression and looked back to his companion.

“Thanks, and thanks for walking me back.” He could tell that she wanted to inquire into his question, but seeing him smile, she let it go. She gave him a simple nod, then, in their standard parting routine, reached out to his shoulders and pulled him into a hug. Soma allowed himself to sit in her embrace for a moment, her warm form washing away his pains and anxieties.

But all too soon it was over, and with a wave and a promise to text him when she was home safe, Mina departed.

Left alone, Soma stood outside, staring at the structure before him. Arikado had won Julius’s trust in a battle that took place in 1999 - nearly 40 years ago. He would have needed to be at least close to Soma’s age at the time, realistically. That should have put Arikado near 60.

But...

Arikado’s face was young and gracile, not a wrinkle or gray hair in sight. Soma had assumed he was in his early 30’s, at most.

The boy felt his heart thump heavy against his chest. What was once a warm summer breeze now chilled him to the bone.

Something was very wrong with Genya Arikado.

Chapter Text

There were many varieties of magic in the world.

This Soma knew to be a fact.

It also happened to be what he told himself over and over as he made his way back into Arikado’s lair. Home. Home was what he meant.

He was relieved to find it was as empty as when he had left, Arikado apparently still working (whatever that meant). His feet were locked in trepidation as he stood in the sitting room, eyes passing over every detail of the space. The mug he’d attempted to drink from that morning still sat on the table, contents long cooled. Books were lined neatly on the shelves. Candlesticks sat atop the piano, shapely and unburnt.

In an attempt to quell the fear that had firmly taken root in his heart and belly, Soma reminded himself of the many supernatural feats he’d witnessed. Yoko was nothing short of a witch; not only could she conjure ice and fire, but she bent these elements to her will. Before her death, Celia had often transported herself and others in the blink of an eye. And of course, Soma’s own ability allowed him to command the souls of monsters. He’d long accepted the existence of strange things in the world.

Yet Arikado’s agelessness filled him with dread.

There were parts of that man that were straightforward in their oddity, and many aspects of him were easy to find suspicious. His aloof, enigmatic demeanor and apparent distaste for explaining himself didn’t help on that front. To top it all off, Arikado clearly possessed power that was nothing to scoff at. Soma had seen a glimpse of it when he first met the man, and if people like Yoko and Julius looked to him with respect, then he surely deserved it.

But defying age? It was so subtle, imperceptible except over vast swathes of time. It wasn’t something you could see, and yet it was ever present. That made it feel so much more insidious.

Soma sucked in a breath and moved himself forward. A bubbling question burned itself as fuel in his stomach, bringing him to his host’s office. Pushing open the door, he was greeted with the same space he’d seen that morning - bar one noticeable change: the oval portrait he’d seen from behind had disappeared from its stand. But the boy didn’t have time to dwell on that. He went straight to the wooden cabinet that had perplexed him earlier. Giving the handles a pull, he found it unlocked and, to his surprise, more than willing to open.

It was an armory. Neatly arranged inside were the fittings any aspiring monster hunter would dream of: Axes, throwing knives, what Soma guessed was holy water, and a shield adorned with a lion’s head upon a cross. Rounding out the collection was a slim, silver sword that Soma couldn’t help but take a moment to admire despite his fervor. Pretty as it was, it told him nothing. Arikado could fight monsters. He already knew that.

He closed the cabinet and gave the room a once over. Fishing for official files was an option, but it would likely get him nowhere. Soma wanted- no, he needed something better. Something bigger. He burned for answers, anything that would shed light on the shadow that had taken him in. And as the boy stepped out of the office, he found his answer - or at least it’s hiding place.

The attic door stood starkly against its surroundings. It was bare and unadorned, but it’s strict defiance against a sea of open passages begged investigation. Soma found himself in front of it, hand hesitating in the air. For a moment he was bound by invisible strings, intangible threads of apprehension, of uncertainty. Maybe this was wrong. Maybe there were better ways to get the answers he needed. But no - these were only transient doubts, he told himself. The boy gripped the doorknob and turned it.

The door was locked.

Fierce desire for truth melted into molten frustration. He grabbed the knob with both hands, twisting hard as if to break the lock. But his rage was impotent; it would not budge. Soma exhaled, releasing the door and considering his options. He’d kicked down a door before. It might cause some damage to the frame, but it was doable.

“Not now.”

Soma froze. A voice. He’d heard a voice behind the door.

Had he imagined it?

“He’ll be back soon.” Soma leapt away from the door, nearly stumbling over himself in the process. The voice was definitely real, and it was definitely coming from the attic. “I’ll help you tomorrow. But not now.” It was small, but it crackled like hot embers.

“Who-” Soma swallowed, his throat too dry to speak. “What are you?”

“Go look.” Its whisper was shrill, more like a hiss. The boy’s eyes darted toward the sitting room.

“What are you?” His words rang out clearly this time, more a demand than a question and belying no scant amount of discomfort. He would be met with no reply. Seconds crept by like hours, and when he was sure there was nothing more to be gained from staring at a slab of wood, he decided to take the voice’s advice.

Soma crept into the sitting room, his eyes fixed on the picture window. Slowly he approached, hugging bookshelves as he went. Just as he began to peek out the glass, the telltale sound of a key in a lock rang out from the foyer.

Soma nearly jumped out of his skin. Feeling as if he was about to be caught in the midst of a crime scene, he panicked. There had to be a way to save himself. He searched the room, hoping for a hail mary and finally settling on the lounge chair. He practically threw himself into it, leaning back, closing his eyes, and attempting to steady his breath.

Moments later he heard the door open, followed by the soft, almost imperceptible clicking of Arikado’s shoes on the floor. A curtain of darkness surrounded Soma. He had nothing but his ears to go off of. He forced the heaving of his chest to settle, even as the footsteps drew closer. Closer. Right in front of him. Then silence.

Arikado had stopped just in front of the chair. He looked down at the boy lounging, slightly surprised to find him in such a position. But he’d insisted that Soma spar with Julius despite the chaos the last few days had brought. It was natural that he’d be tired.

Sparring with Julius…

The thought brought Arikado’s attention to a patch of red on the boy’s forehead, mostly obscured by the hair that fell upon it. A small scuff, already scabbed over and well on it’s way to healing.

Strangely, it evoked within him a whisper of nostalgia. Of a time and place lost to history, long buried in grave and mind alike. Knees shred on the packed dirt of an underground coliseum, sword discarded and jittering skeleton bade to back down. He was still quite young then, in both body and mind, and the piercing sensation of pain yet fresh. It was difficult to continue on in spite of it, and his instinct was to abandon the lesson and seek comfort.

That comfort he would find in the embrace of his mother. She was never far - not when he needed her. In his memory she stood as a pillar of white and gold, almost celestial in her majesty. Her gentle hand stroked his hair, dispelling fear and soothing the pain that this taste of battle had brought him.

Pushed by the gossamer tide of recollection in the present, Arikado placed a hand on Soma's head. His touch was light, racked with restraint, with hesitation.

Soma felt his heart pounding in his throat. Eyes still veiled, façade of slumber maintained, he struggled not to twitch at the sudden contact. What exactly was happening? Had he been found out? Was this Arikado's way of telling him the jig was up?

Short seconds had stretched to feel like an eternity, but just as quickly as it had appeared the sensation ended. Arikado quickly drew back his hand, a pang of anxiety striking his heart. The man felt as though he'd broken some rule, encroached on a boundary that he dare not disrupt. Worse yet was the heartbeat he'd felt. He hoped it was the product of a nightmare, but it was more likely a dead tell for conscious stress. Arikado had no idea what could have possessed the boy to feign rest, but there was the distinct possibility his flighty reminiscence had disturbed him. If Soma’s desire was to avoid interaction, he would grant it.

Arikado stepped back, and Soma heard the clacking of shoes fade in the direction of his office. The door latched, and moments later Soma opened his eyes. The boy stayed still for a moment, alert, waiting for any sign of the man's return.

No sign came, and slowly his pulse fell. With panic subsiding, confusion took its place.

Soma had remembered to close the curtains this time. This protection from the sun allowed him to awaken peacefully just after 9am. He rolled over, retrieving his phone from where it sat on the nightstand and investigating the notifications that had cropped up while he slept. Mina had sent him a picture of a frog sticking to her window about an hour ago - that was the highlight of them all. He rolled onto his back, mentally preparing himself for the task of getting up.

The previous evening had seen him finish unpacking his belongings. He’d found himself wanting for a distraction, and it made staying out of Arikado’s way a simple task. Soma had managed to avoid all but one interaction the entire night - the agent had asked if he was hungry, and luckily he was full enough from his time spent with Mina to forgo a meal.

The fear he’d felt earlier had dissipated - logic had taken over, and he knew that Arikado clearly had no plans to hurt him (he’d had ample chances to do so). Even so, the thought of facing the man head on troubled him. If Arikado looked him in the eye now, surely he’d be able to see Soma’s nerves. His gaze was like a scalpel, and the boy felt utterly helpless beneath it. Maybe it was irrational, but he was sure the agent would manage to puzzle out his plans if he breathed more than a few words to him.

The voice behind the attic door still weighed heavily on his mind. It should have shook him, but any fear it may have inspired was easily dwarfed by Arikado’s presence. Beyond that, it had helped him, and Soma sensed no malice or danger from it. He would be guarded today, of course, but if that stranger could get him into the attic, he was willing to take chances.

As he pulled on a fresh set of clothes, his mind raced. There were so many things Arikado could be hiding. It was a bit hard to imagine what though - this was someone who kept their stock of weapons and holy ornaments in their home office. Whatever was up there was surely dark, unfit for the light of day.

That, or completely mundane. He wasn’t sure which would be worse: answers that horrified, or a complete absence of them.

Either way, he’d soon find out.

He made his way to the bathroom, finding a set of fresh towels stacked on the counter. His eyes lingered on them. Bath towel, hand towel, and washcloth stacked like a ziggurat. They were charcoal black and felt almost plush to the touch.

Something about the gesture sank his heart.

They had undoubtedly been placed here for him. It was just one of many ways that he’d silently been tended to in the last two days. It was rare that he actually saw Arikado in action, but nonetheless, he consistently found his needs met. Yoko’s words came back to him - that he simply tell the agent what was bothering him. He looked down, hesitation thrumming in his mind.

From where he stood, he could see the attic door reflected in the bathroom mirror. He could also see a sliver of Arikado’s bedroom through a gap between door and doorway. This time it was the agent’s words that returned.

There are some things in this world that it is better not to know.

What an arrogant declaration. Better for Arikado, perhaps. It would be convenient if he could keep Soma ignorant and passive forever, wouldn’t it. The thought stoked coals in the boy’s heart, and he found himself marching toward the door. Once there, he stood momentarily at a loss. Then resolving to at least try reaching the voice he’d heard the day before, he curled his fingers and knocked lightly on the door.

Almost immediately, he heard the sound of a lock sliding open.

No chatter or hassle - was it really that easy? Soma licked his lips, hand trembling ever so slightly as he slowly brought it to the knob. Just a simple turn, and the door slid open.

The stairwell before him was dark. Scant daylight trickled in from somewhere above him, but shadows dominated. The stairs were simple, and the dark space beneath them foreboding.

“Hello?” Soma had meant to call out, but his voice came as a strained whisper. He waited, listened, but no answer came. Squinting his eyes into the inky dark between the slated steps, he could see two pinpricks where light reflected off inhuman eyes. He crouched down and drew forward.

“My orders are not to be seen.” Soma stopped as the tiny voice rang out. “But I’m to help you, if you need it. That’s all, helping.” It’s tone was inscrutable. The boy felt that perhaps there was a note of mischief in its words, but it was hard to say for certain. The sound of its voice was familiar, harkening him back to the tiny devils he’d swayed to his side in the past. Weary though he was, Soma felt he’d already managed to find a shard of truth about his host.

The boy stood back up, satisfied with leaving the familiar be. His attention was now wholly focused on the floor above him. Footfalls were met with whining creaks as he ascended to the first landing. He turned, now level with the base of the attic. His eyes couldn’t help but ravenously explore what was already in view. The desperate desire to satisfy his curiosity brought him up the next flight in spite of his quickening pulse. He could overlook his own transgression if it meant satiating that burning hunger.

His view of the long, cluttered room was at first obscured by beams of daylight that pierced through a small octagonal window opposite the stairs. Slowly, Soma’s eyes adjusted. The stretch closest to him was what anyone would expect - boxes, dust, and long discarded items. He spent little time investigating them, instead turning his attention to the back half of the room. Soma stepped out of storage and into a museum.

The back half was neatly manicured, much like the rest of the house. This time, however, the contents were immediately bizarre and striking. Armaments were mounted on the wall; antique blades, maces, and clubs, each of such stunning and detailed craftsmanship that Soma couldn’t help but marvel at them. Paintings hung here too, but they were fewer. The one that struck him most showed a young woman, her long blond hair tied back by green lace. The dress she wore matched its hue, and was tied at his waist with a golden sash.

On the other side of the room, a dress form had been hung with a gold-trimmed coat. Draping black of a cloak clung to its shoulders, collar extravagantly flared to reveal a cream white reverse. Soma couldn’t decide if it looked more historical or costume-adjacent. It was certainly striking, but it would be difficult to pull off without an abundance of charisma. He tried to picture Arikado wearing such a thing. The agent did dress with a certain flair, but also with a note of restraint that the coat utterly lacked.

Soma paused and recalibrated himself. There was so much to take in, seemingly limitless treasures, each fascinating in it’s own right. If he didn’t focus, he’d get lost. True, the coat was the first thing that seemed distinctly connected to Arikado, but he wasn’t looking to deepen his understanding of the man’s fashion sense - he wanted answers. What could all this junk tell him about Arikado’s past, or his connection to Dracula, or what his goals were now.

He moved on, perusing another wall of arms. A few were clearly enchanted - he’d become comfortable with weapons of the magical variety after using so many himself. But what drew his attention most was the monster of a spear nestled alongside comparatively humble blades. It was black with golden decals (giving it striking synergy with the coat he’d just inspected), and bore protrusions like bat wings beneath its blade. A cross sat between them, and another at the base of the staff.

Fascinating as the spear was, the weapons were of little help to him. Arikado dealt with the supernatural. In Soma’s experience, that meant not only using a full arsenal, but expanding it on your warpath. He continued to the next point of interest.

A mahogany shelf hosted a collection of artefacts. Bracelets, necklaces, and rings of precious gem and gold sat casually. On shelves above them lie objects lovingly cradled on handkerchiefs. Each was given ample room, exalted despite their mundanity. A brooch that looked like two shards of ice, a weathered chain whip ending in a morning star, and a pair of gold rimmed glasses among them. The boys paused when his eyes hit the third object.

He could feel the familiar hum of magic emanating from within. Magical weapons he’d expected, but eyewear? That was new. He plucked them from their resting place, turning them over once in his hands before unfolding them and lifting them to his eyes. The rims were thin, and seemed to hold no distortion; looking through them was akin to peering through standard glass. He pinched the temples and brought them an inch away from his face.

Before he could properly examine them, a glint in the reflection on their frames caught his eye. Something behind him - under the window. Soma refolded the glasses, slipping them in his pocket as he turned toward the back of the attic.

A shadow stood in the darkness beneath the window, masked by a haze of dust that floated and caught the sun's rays. He drew closer, and quickly he made out the symbol of the cross, golden and glittering as it adorned the front of the mass. Soma found that around it stretched a shimmering outline, just as radiant, but gravely telling in its form. He recognized the shape immediately - 6 sides, the bottom half stretched long to fit legs, and the top curt.

It was a coffin.

A coffin stood upright in the back of Arikado’s attic, exquisitely crafted and elegant in design. But aesthetical matters were lost on Soma as he stared in horror at his discovery. He knew what such an item implied, of course he knew. Even so, desperate bids of denial bubbled into his mind. No, that wasn’t possible. Arikado couldn’t be- It wouldn’t make sense if he-

Soma raised a hand to his forehead, hoping to banish the dizziness that now threatened to overtake him. He gulped down fear, only to find it replaced with myriad emotions. Anger, confusion, dissatisfaction. He couldn’t ponder them, he didn’t want to. So instead, he marched forward, all but the casket blurred before him. He needed to know. Soma took a firm hold on the side of the lid and began to push.

It was heavy, but not as heavy as he had anticipated. A soft groan rang out as the base of the lid slid across the wooden floor. It was only now that Soma realized that he was sweating. His head still spun, and his mouth felt bone dry, yet his focus refused to break from the terror beneath the surface. He dared not peek at its entrails before his work was done. Fear shook him, phantom images of claws and teeth shooting out to spell his doom if he drew too close too fast. When he’d managed to slide the covering slab almost completely from the casket, he stepped back.

It was empty.

Silence lay heavy over the room. Sun still shone through the window, and darkness still sat beneath it. The only noise to puncture the quiet was the deep, heavy draw of Soma’s breaths. He stood in front of the coffin, mind and heart racing. Had he expected to find Arikado inside? Maybe not, but that didn’t discount the tomb’s presence. There were very few explanations for why someone would keep such a thing in their home.

The picture he was trying to construct grew dim. Perhaps there was a shred of hope, a small chance he was misunderstanding, but he couldn’t hold to it - not after this. His worst fears were confirmed, weren’t they? Arikado was a monster. Not just any monster, but a vampire. The word felt unclean, diseased and hazardous. Would his skin start to rot from just thinking it?

Then there was a hand.

A hand that gripped his shoulder, so tightly he was sure pain should have followed.

Soma responded in pure instinct, yanking his body forward and out of the demon’s grasp. As he stumbled backward into the displaced lid, he turned to face his attacker. He only managed a fleeting glance before Arikado was upon him. The creature had lunged forward with such terrifying speed that Soma had no time to avoid him. He drug the boy forward, forcing his head downward with one hand and wrapping his other arm around Soma’s shoulders as he encompassed the smaller body with his own. Soma writhed in the man’s iron grasp, struggling to bring a hand to cover his neck. He was helpless, overwhelmed, surely seconds away from a horrific end.

Then a sudden, deafening cacophony roared behind him. The scream of nails wretched from walls and the bleeding ring of metal on metal. A deafening crash shook the floor beneath his feet, punctuating the discordance. The aural mayhem settled, and silence reigned. Soma was still pulled tightly against Arikado’s chest, but the bite he’d anticipated never came.

Seconds passed, Then the man released him, allowing Soma to lift himself to his feet. Only now did the boy realize he was shaking. Arikado took hold of the boy’s arms - but this time his grip was lighter, only a suggestion that he stay in place. The agent looked him up and down, then, satisfied that he was unharmed, let go of him completely and shifted his attention to the chaos beyond.

The coffin’s lid had fallen, destabilized by the force with which Soma had slammed into it. Its rush toward the ground had brought it into contact with a line of weapon mounts, turning the arsenal into a momentary storm of blades and scattering them across the ground.

Soma watched as Arikado approached the scene coolly, assessing the damage. It had been localized to just one corner of the room, but said corner had been reduced to a mess. Slowly he knelt down. The man sorted through the wreckage and gingerly pulled something from its depths.

It was a painting - the painting of the woman in green. It’s ornate framing had splintered and cracked, crushed under the impact with the floor. The parchment itself had been torn nearly in half, and hung partially out of the frame. Arikado’s gaze was trained upon it. He paid no mind to the tangle of swords and clubs, nor to the coffin lad splayed across the floor. At that moment his only concern was the picture, shoulders stiff and mouth pulled into a tight, stony frown as he looked upon its slaughter.

Soma trembled as he watched. Mist had gathered in his eyes at some point, but he was helpless to wipe it away. He was frozen. Waiting. Watching. Desperate to understand, thoroughly shaken by the fruit of his mistakes.

Without pulling his gaze from the destroyed portrait, Arikado spoke.

“Get out.”

Chapter Text

Soma laid on his side, head resting on a bent arm. Not far from him, his phone lay face down. Occasionally he’d see a thin string of light at its edge, some notification that he’d proceed to ignore. He’d texted Mina earlier - a string of frantic, ill considered messages. Quickly though, his fervor had depleted, and without even reading her reply, he’d sent a single “nevermind” and discarded the device.

He wasn’t sure what time it was. Hours had ticked by as he lay in bed, mind reeling as he replayed the morning's events over and over. It felt unreal, and more than once he’d longed to wake up and find the nightmare gone with the morning light. But his trip to the attic had happened. His discovery had been real, and the destruction he caused irreversible.

Arikado’s expression haunted him. His restrained misery, how it crept through the cracks in his icy barricade. The fury that he felt burning below the surface. The way he had hissed his command at Soma.

Worst of all, the way Arikado had saved him.

Soma’s terror had been so intense in that moment, so sure he was about to be torn to shreds. For fleeting seconds, he’d seen the man as a devil, stripped him of his humanity and truly believed he was a monster. But he’d miscalculated - Arikado wasn’t the threat, no, he was the only thing standing between Soma and injury. He’d shown no hesitation, letting clearly precious treasures be destroyed in order to keep the boy from harm.

Guilt and shame gnawed through his skin like acid. He was mortified. What had possessed him to act so foolish? He’d only proven that Arikado had been right to treat him like a child. No, no. That sentiment Soma couldn’t swallow; he’d choke. He clenched his jaw, chest still burning with embers of a lingering frustration. It was Arikado’s own actions that led them here. The man had been tight lipped since they met. Soma had learned terrifying things about himself in the past year, and all he wanted was the full truth. He could take it. He would have to.

His dueling emotions were nauseating - they had been all day. Blame bounced back and forth in his mind like a ping pong ball. In humble moments he was remorseful, wracked by the stupidity of his actions. But pride too reared its heads, refusing to surrender to blame, still angry with Arikado.

Soma’s eyes drifted to his nightstand, desperately searching for a distraction from the conflict. The glasses he’d found in the attic glinted in the evening sun. He hadn’t been thinking when he slipped them into his pocket, and now he wasn’t sure what to do with them. The boy plucked them and put them on. His room looked the same as he scanned it through their frames. Glasses were supposed to help you see, but see what? Their enchantment still eluded him.

Letting out a breath, he gathered his strength and pulled himself out of bed. He placed the glasses inside the nightstand’s drawer, and focused his aim on the doorway. He hadn’t left since the incident, and only now, back on his feet, did he realize the toll that had taken. Pangs of hunger needled his stomach, but that wasn’t what moved him. Despite everything, he still had questions. He wanted to know - to understand, even if it was painful. He shuffled towards the door, his small footsteps heavy with anxiety. Quietly as he could, he opened the door and peered into the hallway. Empty. At its opposite end, the attic door stood. It was closed once more.

He wearily walked the corridor, attention focused first on the sliver of Arikado’s bedroom he could see, then snapping to the office. Both looked to be empty. The boy gulped. Was it better or worse for his host to be out in the open? He turned the corner of the hallway, then, slowing his pace, reached the threshold to the sitting room.

No barrier was placed, yet Soma found it difficult to enter. He raised a hand to the doorway’s wood trim. He ran a finger along it, focusing for a moment on nothing more than it’s texture and the small lines that swiveled down its length.

“I know you’re there.” Arikado spoke, and Soma froze. His voice was level. He didn’t call out - simply speaking and allowing the quiet of the house to carry his message. The boy hesitated, laying his hand against the archway, as if for support. He took a reluctant step forward, grip still on the trim. He was halfway into the room, sticking close to the wall almost as if to hide.

He could see Arikado now. He sat at the table, a cup in his hand and his gaze trained downward. The torn portrait laid on the table in front of him.

“Did you want to join me?” The man’s question hung in the air. Soma dropped his gaze, feet firmly planted. An ocean of thick silence lay between the two. “Well?”

“You’re not gonna.. Y’know..” Finally Soma answered. His forehead rested against the doorframe. “Bite me or anything?”

“No, Soma. I’m not going to bite you.” Arikado’s words came clear and crisp, formal for all but the slightest hint of annoyance. Another refrain of silence. A clock ticked, slow and steady.

“Are you mad?” Despite his best efforts, the boy’s words came out mousey.

Arikado let out a deep breath. Soma tapped his thumbnail against the wood. No answer came. He raised his eyes again. Neither Arikado nor his gaze had moved. The boy gathered himself and stepped fully into the room. No reaction. He moved past the piano and bookshelves, inching closer to the table. Without looking up, Arikado gestured for him to sit.

It was awkward. Arikado sat stone faced opposite him, apparently deep in contemplation. The tattered painting before him showed no signs of healing. That much was obvious.

“Can you fix it?” Soma quietly offered the question.

“Maybe.” The man paused. “But it has been a long time since I did anything of that manner.” A beat of silence hung. “Yoko may know a spell.” Was he saying he would have used magic to fix it? It didn’t seem outside the realm of possibility. The boy’s eyes wandered to the painting. It was a disorderly tear, not a clean slice. The force of the frame breaking probably wrenched the canvas apart. It ran from the top right corner, across her shoulder, and down her body. At the very least, the face was unharmed.

Pointing out that small mercy would do him little good.

“Can you tell me who she is?”

“Her name was Maria.” His answer came easily.

Was.

The portrait looked old. Soma wasn’t surprised. But hearing it outloud was jarring.

“A dear friend.” For a fleeting moment, a hint of a smile appeared on Arikado’s lips. “And a brilliant vampire hunter. She would never forgive me if I failed to mention that.” His words had become delicate and soft. For a moment Soma could almost forget his discomfort.

“Arikado,” The boy summoned what courage he could. “Why is there a coffin in your attic?”

For the first time, Arikado’s eyes met Soma’s. The warm tide of reminiscence had subsided, leaving the familiar, stern face of the agent in its wake.

“Why do you think I have a coffin in my attic?” The question wasn’t spiteful; it was leading. Soma knew - that was plain to both of them. The boy hesitated. Under such intense scrutiny he felt the urge to question everything.

“I think maybe..” He knew what he had seen. If he didn’t push forward now, he never would. “..You have a coffin in your attic because you’re a vampire.”

“You’re right.” Arikado looked him straight in the eye as he answered. “Mostly right.”

“Mostly?” The vampire nodded. “I’ve seen you outside, in the sunlight. Is that why?”

“That’s correct. That and some other things.” Holding his gaze took everything Soma had, and yet somehow it made it easier to keep pushing. The exchange suddenly felt less confrontational. Now it seemed… direct. The boy felt as if he was seeing beyond a veil for the first time.

“Do you drink blood?” He had to seize the moment.

“I can. But I don’t like to. Not from humans, at least.”

“But you’ve drank human blood before?” This time Soma’s question evoked a beat of silence. The intensity of Arikado’s gaze grew again, as if daring him to continue.

And then Arikado looked askance.

“Yes, I have.” It was just a moment, just a brief second of hesitation, and then their eyes met again. Had it been shame? “It has been a very long time. It’s not something I intend to do again.”

Even if he’d anticipated the answer, something in Soma’s heart sank. A small piece of his mind was replaced with fear. Not the momentary, consuming terror he’d felt that morning, but a dull aching. A stain.

“There’s no reason for you to fear me.” Arikado spoke again, as if on cue. “I have been this for as long as you’ve known me. Nothing has changed. You simply know now.”

“Yeah.” Soma looked down. He was at a loss - now that he had this information, he didn’t know what to do with it. He still wanted more, but he didn’t know what to ask. Would Arikado even tell him anything else? He’d been straightforward thus far, but… Soma steeled himself. He might not get a chance like this again. “What about Dracula?”

“What about him?” There was a chill to the man’s words. Soma watched as a barricade was constructed before him. He knew instantly that answers wouldn’t flow so freely on the subject.

“I was wondering if you had a particular fixation with him,” Soma’s eyes wandered in the direction of the office. “Or something like that.”

“Fixation.” Arikado set his cup down as he repeated the word, a frown clear on his face. Some faint irritation shown briefly, then he discarded the question altogether. “If I were you, I’d think long and hard about whether you really want to investigate your past life.” It was back. That haughty tone he always used when he scolded Soma or barked a command.

A familiar frustration filled Soma’s breast. He’d done enough thinking, he knew exactly what he wanted! Yet Arikado always stood in his way, always talking down to him, always acting like he knew better than anyone else. The boy only wanted the truth - he was entitled to that much, wasn’t he? It was his life after all. A refutation sizzled on his tongue, but the agent cut through before he could speak it.

“Maybe you should take a moment to reflect on what your recklessness most recently led-”

Arikado’s chiding was interrupted by the sharp, simple sound of a knock on the door.

His head snapped in the direction of the foyer, bewilderment clear on his face. He glanced back to Soma, the boy equally surprised by the turn of events. Knocking came again, and after a moment of hesitation, Arikado rose to his feet and crossed the room. No sooner had he opened the door than the visitor pushed gently past him and into the house.

“Sorry for intruding.” Mina slipped off her shoes, placing them tidily in the entryway before continuing into the sitting room. She gave Soma a wave and a smile, then let her eyes wander around the room. “I guess it’s about what I expected. You have a lovely home, mister Arikado.”

Arikado himself did not respond. He was frozen as he watched her, baffled by her sudden arrival and entrance. Soma was similarly taken aback - why had she appeared out of the blue? And how could she so brazenly march into a distant acquaintance's house uninvited? Somewhere below his current confusion and stress, he couldn’t help but admire her.

“Oh, were you two in the middle of something? Am I interrupting?” The syrupy innocence in her voice was practiced, a skill she had honed over the years. Mina applied it here with deadly precision. “I got some weird messages from Soma earlier, then he stopped responding altogether, so I thought I’d come over and be sure everything was alright.” She looked between the two of them, ignoring the clear tension that had settled like dust over the room. “But I guess everything’s okay, so don’t mind me.” The girl deposited herself in the cushy lounge chair with a smile.

Soma and Arikado looked at each other, for a single moment united in their sheer incredulity. Arikado’s gaze eventually found its way back to the girl. He composed himself quickly, hiding tells of confusion like a bird smoothing its feathers.

“Mina, I’m not sure what Soma told you,” A pointed look was given toward the boy. “And I understand you may have been worried, but is it not somewhat…” The agent chose his next words carefully. “Ill-advised to see yourself in like this?”

“Oh, if I’m causing too much trouble, I can leave.” Mina frowned, but didn’t move from where she sat. Soma knew that frown. He recognized the tone of her voice and the precise way she used her words. It was all thinly veiled theatrics - a game. She’d heard Soma’s account earlier that day - sure it was messy, but it got the most important point across. Mina knew exactly what Arikado was, and yet she had marched into his home and was daring him to throw her out.

Soma smiled, utterly defeated by her. He must have come off as pretty helpless when he messaged her. He couldn't believe his luck, to have someone so savvy, so plucky in his corner.

“Actually, we were talking about something.” Soma spoke up. Suddenly his confrontation with Arikado felt less dire. That, or his courage had been renewed. He lifted his eyes to meet Arikado’s. Mina’s aid had stirred his heart, and he only wanted to show her his best. He could manage that, right? To move past his own burning guilt and frustration, to let go of Arikado’s harsh words and the fear his identity struck in him?

At the very least he could try.

“I was trying to tell him that I’ve been curious about a lot of things. Things that I thought were important.” Soma spoke slowly. “I got really frustrated, cause he wouldn’t just tell me the truth.” He looked down. “But I also wanted him to know how sorry I am.”

Mina nodded at the boy. This time, her smile was genuine. Across the room, Arikado exhaled. He rested a balled hand on his hip and closed his eyes. He couldn’t return such sincere vulnerability with anger. Of course Soma was frustrated. The truth of his existence was a tangled web that hung heavy like chains, a karmic destiny he had never asked to be saddled with. The man knew that. He knew so well it hurt.

“I want you to know,” Arikado began. “That I have only been trying to keep you from harm.” He opened his eyes, gaze now steady on the ground. He wore a tight frown, a product of his focus and the labor with which he worked to find the right words. “It is difficult for me to discuss certain matters. Myself among them.”

The conversation was stilted, forced. To lay their thoughts in such a brutally plain manner felt almost impossible. Yet with their initial admissions, the tension that had long sat between them began to crack.

“Why didn’t you just ask me?” Arikado looked tired, some of his persistent stoniness falling away to reveal a softer visage.

“I didn’t think you’d tell me anything.” Soma nearly mumbled the words. “You never explain things to me. You tell me to listen to you and go along with your orders, but you never explain why.” His eyes rose to meet Arikado’s. “Would you have told me if I asked?”

A long moment passed as the agent kept silent. His eyes were wide as he looked at the boy, something akin to embarrassment - or perhaps fear - within them. Then they narrowed, and his gaze was cast to the side.

“You’re right.” His words were a whisper, a relenting confession. “I apologize for the way I’ve treated you, Soma.”

“So will you tell me then?” Soma wasted no time, but there was still caution in his words. “About you? About who I was, and what it all means?”

“It is a mess. An old, bloody mess that I loathe to touch.” The agent shook his head and sighed. The boy frowned, feeling his stomach sink. “Yet we stand at the center of it, don’t we?”

The words gripped Soma in a way he could neither describe nor understand. It was as if a fist had been clenched around his heart, its nails digging into red, beating flesh. He still knew nothing.

“Grant me time. To prepare myself.” Arikado spoke again. “And I will do my best to tell you all that you wish to know.”

The man’s words resounded like light piercing utter darkness. Relieved though he was, excited though he was, Soma couldn’t help but take them with a sense of solemnity. He gave a firm nod, as if cementing an agreement between them.

Remembering himself, his attention snapped to Mina. He felt a twinge of embarrassment, having his dirty laundry not only aired in front of her, but also managed by her deft intervention. He found the girl smiling - not the devious, rehearsed smile she’d worn earlier, but one genuine and soft. She met his gaze with shining compassion and peaceful pride, and for a moment he was sure she knew more than both men combined.

“In the meantime,” Arikado’s voice snapped him out of his trance. He’d regained his cool demeanor, and yet a hint of his previous self remained. Something warm. “You are welcome to stay for dinner, Mina.”

Chapter Text

A scene of dusk painted itself through the sky. The last vestiges of twilight splashed golden across the horizon, embracing green with the dark, star speckled navy of the night. Through the picture window, Arikado took in a scene of only growing darkness. A small twinge of anxiety had begun to take root in the pit of his stomach. The night couldn’t be trusted.

Despite the chaos of the morning, the agent had found himself in the midst of a surprisingly pleasant evening. Mina had happily accepted the offer to stay over for supper, and for the first time perhaps ever, his residence could have been called lively. The timidness Soma had taken to his house with all but disappeared once he and Mina had settled into conversation. Arikado had left then to prepare a meal, only to return later and find the pair picking through the old tomes that lined his shelves. His first instinct was to shoo them away from his collection, but quickly he realized they were doing no harm and their interest was genuine.

While they entertained themselves with the many curios in his sitting room, Arikado entertained himself by occasionally stepping out of the kitchen to observe them. There was something refreshing about it, the way they seemed to marvel at the arcane. Most of the company he’d kept over his centuries of life were people with explicit ties to the supernatural - but these two had lived normal lives prior to the eclipse. Statues of mermen and coins etched with pentagrams were strange and exotic in their eyes. Of course, Soma had some experience with the occult and its accoutrements, having spent one night navigating Dracula’s castle and another crashing a cult’s layer. But Mina pulled him along, curiously inspecting each bauble she found.

When they’d finally sat down to eat, he found the two staring at him with intense anticipation before he took his first bite. Apparently they’d been unsure of his ability to consume anything except blood - or perhaps they were looking for fangs (they’d find none on Genya Arikado). Once that mystery had been put to rest, the three were able to settle into eating - Soma especially, seemingly taking until that moment to remember he hadn’t eaten all day.

The teens had offered to handle dishes, leaving Arikado as he was in the present. The night that unfolded before him was inevitable, but nonetheless unwelcome. He could hear Mina and Soma’s quiet conversation behind him, though its contents he had no use for. The girl had explained earlier that she’d set out for his home without alerting her family for fear they might try to stop her. While she’d texted an update to them later, they would still expect her home soon.

And therein lie the issue.

Soma’s safety was a priority, but so was Mina’s. Less had to be adjusted on that front, seeing as her grandfather was quite the adept priest and Yoko was a common guest at her home. The Hakuba residence was a veritable fortress of protective magic and divine blessings - even Arikado had difficulty treading there without her grandfather’s help.

But between here and her home stretched a sea of darkness, the preferred terrain of the stalker they’d been so intent on keeping Soma from. The agent had worked tirelessly the last few days to track down and destroy the vampire, but had yet to succeed. Of course, the attacker was likely only a symptom of a larger issue.

Still, getting rid of that symptom would be ideal.

The kitchen faucet shut off and the sound of clinking dishes faded. The idle conversation behind him reached an end, and soon the two had made their way past him toward the foyer. Arikado turned to see Mina slipping her shoes on and Soma retrieving his coat. It was the girl’s eyes that caught his first.

“Thank you so much for your hospitality today, mister Arikado.” Never one to forget her manners, she brought herself to her feet and gave him a small bow. “But my parents will be mad at me if I stay out too late.” The agent gave a polite smile and a nod. No more than that was needed, and his focus lay elsewhere.

“You’ve been keeping up with your training.” He looked to Soma as he spoke stern, solid words. For a moment the boy was confused, taking it as a question and wondering why Arikado had chosen this moment to start nagging him. But then a brief glimpse out the window sparked insight. The boy nodded back. “Be careful.”

The pair then departed, Arikado watching them descend into the forest from the picture window. Without turning his gaze, he reached to the side as if to pluck something from the air. The imp materialized in his grasp, scruffed like a cat.

“I think it’s time you redeem yourself.” The familiar was too racked with fear to answer. It had hidden itself since the morning, but was bound to heed its master’s call. Further words were unnecessary, and once released, the devil flew off after the pair.

“I guess I should apologize.” Soma started, hands curled in his coat pockets. “For going silent earlier. For making you worry.”

The two walked along the long dirt road that connected Arikado’s house to proper society. It was dark, but not so dark as to trouble them. The sun had set, but the rising moon provided them with scant, milky light. Trees kept their distance from the road, leaving a wide ditch between where they walked and the forest proper.

“Oh, no.” Mina looked slightly surprised at the sudden expression. “I’m not really upset by it. I’m just happy everything worked out, I guess.”

“But still, you made the trip all the way out here just to see us bickering. That’s pretty tame considering some of the things I said...” Soma felt the urge to hide his face when he thought back to how frantic he’d been. Everything felt so distant and trite now, almost like a dream.

“Well to be honest, I wasn’t really surprised?” There was something hesitant in her voice - as if she was worried she might embarrass the boy. “How do I put it…” Soma turned his head to face her. Mina’s sentiment puzzled him, but intrigue outweighed self-consciousness. “When you told me all that, that he had a coffin and things, that you thought he was a vampire, I did find it frightening. But then when I thought about it, I guess I just couldn’t manage to think of Arikado as a scary person? Mysterious and intimidating, maybe. But not dangerous.” She turned, her eyes meeting Soma’s. “Does that make any sense?”

“I think it does.” It was hard for him to understand her view. He’d certainly been able to find Arikado chilling, especially in the moment. Still, something about her reply felt oddly familiar - it didn’t quite strike his own feelings, but it was close.

“Though, I’ve also heard Yoko talk about him a good bit, and it’s hard to find him scary with the way she describes him.” She gave a small laugh. “But it’s more than that.” Mina sobered up slightly. “You know that pit in your stomach, or the chill on the back of your neck you get when someone is bad news?” Soma did not. “I’ve never felt anything like that around him. Maybe it’s just that he looked after me back when-” She faltered, then opted to skip over the subject of the eclipse. “But I never feel anything malicious or devious on him.”

Soma turned his attention to the sky above them. Vast navy spread to the ends of the earth, only contained by the fuzzy beginnings of canopy at the edges of his vision. Why was he the only one that struggled with Arikado? Yoko, Julius, even Mina. They all seemed to have reached peace with the man so easily. Why was it so hard for Soma?

Electric light stretched into view.

“You’ll stay until the bus gets here?” As Mina asked, she pulled out her phone. The blue light from its screen bloomed gently across her face before melting into the yellow glow the streetlight cast on her head like a halo. “It’ll only be a few minutes.”

“Always.” She didn’t have to ask. There was nowhere he’d rather be than by her side.

The night was quiet but for crickets and other buzzing insects. Moths danced a tumbling waltz around the light. Mina returned her phone to her pocket.

“I should thank you, then.” Soma spoke suddenly. “If you don’t want an apology. Thank you for helping me today.” He lifted a hand from his pocket as he spoke. Summoning all the courage he could muster, he reached out and took her hand in his own. For as simple as the gesture was, it took all he had. He kept his eyes trained forward, afraid to look at her, afraid to see her reaction.

But he didn’t need to - he felt it. Gently she turned her hand, taking hold of his own.

The pair stood comfortably in the silence of the night.

All too soon, the bus arrived, and Mina bid him good night and safe travels.

When the vehicle had disappeared around the bend, Soma turned and began back toward Arikado’s house. A cheerful grin shone on his face and his footsteps felt light. It was funny how something so small could make him feel better than he had in days. How just a simple act shared between them could convince him that everything would work out fine and that all was right in the world.

It was funny how much it could distract him.

The dark of the night still surrounded him, an all encompassing miasma that held within it limitless peril. The road through the forest wasn’t long, but it was long enough for the creature to make its move. Soma felt the force of his back and head impacting the tree before anything else. The crack of pain set a white flash across his vision, and as it receded it revealed a face little over an inch from his own.

The vampire’s eyes bore directly into his own, its sharp fangs horrifyingly visible below smiling lips. Pure instinct jolted through him, but he couldn’t pull himself away. A hand pinned his neck to the tree, long nails digging into bark and palm pressing against his throat. The other pushed into his chest with so much force that it threatened to bend his ribs inward. Soma’s own hands were left free. If he couldn’t duck away from the beast, he could at least try to pry away its grip.

The boy’s hands might as well have met with an iron beam. Try as he might, the arm that pinned him wouldn’t move an inch. Desperation and fear coiled in his mind, leaving him clawing at his attacker's limb.

“Master please,” A voice crawled out of the creature's pale lips. “Stop this nonsense. I beg of you, return to us.” He recognized it - the same vampire that had attacked him in his home. Dread still shook through him, but with it a sense of clarity. His body remembered all the times he’d been immobilized by Julius. He remembered that even in the midst of a beating he could still act. Might coursed through his veins, body enriched by the soul of a beast. Soma reached again to the hand that pinned his throat. The force he grasped them with was far greater than before, and slowly he began to wrench them away.

“How dare you treat me as a threat!” The vampire redoubled their efforts, hand firmly planting itself back against Soma’s throat. The intensity of the grip was growing, crushing soft flesh against grating bark and invoking a dizziness as air struggled to pass. “That place is what endangers you!” Panic flooded in once more; should he continue the match of strength? Would he lose? What else was at his disposal?

Before he could make his move, something beat him to the punch. For a moment Soma didn’t understand what had happened - the vampire’s head had suddenly jilted, pain and rage spreading across its face. A slight trickle of blood fell upon the arm that held him, leaking from beneath a tiny spear that had been plunged into its neck.

Soma didn’t need to understand what had happened to seize his chance. For just a moment the vampire’s focus was shattered, and in that moment the boy would strike. He reached into his soul and summoned something familiar, something intense and burning. Wicked flame erupted from him, a steady, concentrated burn that crashed into his assailant like a lion goring into its prey. The impact ripped the vampire from him, allowing Soma to fall from the trunk he’d been pinned to. He could catch himself, he had many times before - but the ground was uneven, gnarled by roots. His left foot hit the ground hard, twisting awkwardly and sending a jolt of pain up his body.

But there was no time to address injury - his foe would be upon him shortly. The forest’s edge burned orange with the last licks of flame on the vampire’s body. In their unsteady light, he found his companion - the imp. It stuck close to his shoulder, spear still stuck in the stalker’s neck, but nonetheless willing to serve.

“How can you choose to live under the heel of that betrayer?!” The vampire spat out its words, skin scorched and garments singed. Light died as it stepped toward him. “What foolishness does that body plague you with?” Soma braced, anticipating a strike. He could still fight.

A glint of silver flashed in the moonlight. The vampire’s arm was cleaved from its body. Tension turned to shock as the creature before him shrieked in pain.

“The head next, then.” An unmistakable voice rang out from behind him. Soma turned to see Arikado standing now beside him. The night was dark, but Arikado stood ever so slightly illuminated. His focus was set on the creature before them, expression deadly in its sternness. Something floated beside him, a wisp of green and gold. It had already taken notice of him, and as it gently glided down toward his ankle the boy was able to make out its features.

It was a fairy, fit with a green dress and insectoid wings. Blond hair cascaded from its diminutive head, partially obscuring a sweet round face. It hovered over his foot, inspecting perhaps. After a moment, it landed on the ground and set its tiny hands in the gap between his pant leg and shoe. He could barely feel its palms over his sock, its touch less than even a pinprick. He did feel, however, a balmy, soothing coolness spread over his ankle. Pain hadn’t totally subsided, but it had been greatly numbed - relief enough to keep him fighting.

He looked back to their opponent, only to find that the vampire had disappeared. Soma frantically searched the trees. Surely a shadow would be looming, preparing its next strike. He needed to find it, to finish his opponent. He tried to take a step forward, but familiar pain shot through his leg, causing him to reach out to the tree for support and crumple onto a knee.

“Forcing yourself will only make it worse.” Before he’d fully processed Arikado’s words, the agent had reached out and grabbed his arm.

“But what if it gets away?” Soma hesitated to take the offered limb. Arikado still looked ahead, restraint and frustration mixed in his face.

“There will be other chances.” The words sounded as if they’d been uddered to convince himself just as much as Soma. “And I’ve already called for backup. My first priority needs to be getting you to safety.” The boy relented and took hold of Arikado’s arm. The agent helped him back onto his feet, then laid his arm across Soma’s back to help support the boy’s weight.

“What if it comes back?” Soma found it difficult to use Arikado as a support - the man was notably taller than him, making it impossible to sling an arm around his neck. He eventually settled for hanging onto the shoulder closest to him.

“It won’t. It knows better than to try attacking me.” There was a chill to his words, a weight that made Soma trust them implicitly.

Having found their balance, the two began back toward the house. Their pace was slow, Soma doing what he could to keep weight off his ankle. Soon after they started, a sword had returned to Arikado’s side, startling the boy in the process. The agent simply plucked it out of the air and slid it into a holster at his hip. It seemed the most natural thing in the world, a practiced motion that had long turned to instinct. The fairy had never left their side, but had now taken up residence on Arikado’s opposite shoulder. The devil too was about, its soft wingbeats just barely audible behind them. Soma wasn’t sure if he should question the miniature platoon or accept it as standard fare. He opted to remain quiet as they walked, eyes eventually falling to the ground.

They continued in silence for a time. The scratch of shoes on pressed dirt and wind whispering through leaves filled the air around them.

“Is there something on your mind?” It was Arikado that spoke - much to Soma’s surprise. He took a moment to consider. There had almost constantly been things on his mind for three days straight, yet he found himself unsure what to say. The agent inviting inquiry was new.

“I know I probably shouldn’t listen to anything that vampire said..” Soma started, still not entirely sure where he was going. Everything had happened so quickly - he was just now starting to ponder the implications of the creature’s words. “I think he called you a traitor.” The sentence stood in the air for a moment. He couldn’t see Arikado’s face well. Soma swallowed and continued. “Did you work for Dracula?”

“No, I didn’t.” The answer came quickly - more quickly than Soma had been prepared for.

“What did he mean, then?” Soma pushed further, taking the other’s neutral tone as safety. He was met with a brief pause.

“That’s a complicated question, Soma.” Or its answer was, at least. Arikado felt a pull toward his familiar defenses, a sudden desire to end the conversation. It took no small effort to push aside. “Can you ask me something else for now?”

“Oh.” Soma looked away for a moment - but not out of dejection. The olive branch was clear to him, but he didn’t quite know what else to say. “Fairies are real?”

This caused Arikado to stop abruptly and look down at the boy, his face pure confusion. Soma had seen zombies, werewolves, and demons of all shapes and sizes. Why had he chosen fairies as the place to draw the line?

“Yes, fairies are real.” Arikado looked to the familiar on his shoulder, then back at the boy. “But this one is… artificial.”

“Artificial?” The pair began walking again. “What makes a fairy artificial?” He craned his neck, trying to get a better view of the sprite.

“This one was created rather than summoned. Created by myself.” He brought his free hand to the fairy, gently lying two fingers against its head for a moment. “A very long time ago.”

“It looks real enough.” Soma didn’t have anything to compare it too, but at the very least he could tell the creature wasn’t illusory.

“Yes, making the distinction is rather unnecessary. But I thought it might be interesting to you.” Arikado returned his hand to his side.

“It is.” Soma spoke quietly, as if afraid to utter that confirmation. For a moment there was silence. The boy regathered himself and spoke again. “I kind of thought you’d be mad at me.”

“This wasn’t your fault.” In truth, Arikado’s first instinct had been to chide the boy for being careless. But he’d caught himself - why blame Soma for that vampire’s machinations? Further, the agent had known it was dangerous to let him go out in the night, yet he'd allowed it. If anyone was at fault, it was him. He hesitated before saying more. “You did very well.”

Was Arikado… praising him? That was new. Soma couldn’t recall any other instance of the agent applauding him. The best he’d ever gotten was the implication of adequacy. Arikado was always stern, always judging.

He was, wasn’t he?

To some degree, the boy knew he was correct. Arikado had always been strict, and his standards were high. But he was starting to wonder if there was more to it - if the man’s intensity either covered for or was a byproduct of something else. Genuine concern, perhaps.

As the two slowly hobbled back home, Soma considered how they’d met and the role Arikado had come to play in his life. The agent was secretive and fastidious, a true pain to deal with at times. But he was also steadfast and reliable - he’d proven himself to be terrifyingly competent on multiple occasions. The boy had never seen him falter, and he seemed to take his duty (whatever it may be) with the utmost gravity.

Soma felt from him an overwhelming sense of devotion.

Chapter Text

“You lasted all of three days.” Yoko smoothed her skirt as she sat on the piano bench. A grin had spread on her face. She couldn’t help herself - being so adept yet failing so spectacularly made him ripe for some light teasing

“Four.” Arikado corrected her from behind closed eyes. “He doesn’t know yet, and tomorrow makes four days.” The agent sat in his lounge chair, elbows propped on its rests and hands interlocked on his lap. For the moment, his posture was relaxed and his head lay on the backrest. His sword leaned against the wall beside him.

The room was lit amber by a reading lamp - too little light to fill the whole room, but enough for the corner they sat in. The rest of the house was dark. It was well past one in the morning, and Soma had collapsed into bed hours ago. Yoko had arrived not long after he and Arikado had made their way back. The agent had called for her and Julius at the first sign of danger, and while the witch had decided she would be of most use healing the boy, Julius had ventured out into the night to track the wounded vampire.

“Sounds a bit pedantic.” Yoko now stood guard with Arikado, waiting to see if the creature would return. However, both knew it wouldn’t - or at least that it was very unlikely. If the vampire had the gall to attack Soma while he was inside the agent’s home, he would have done it already. Arikado was practically a walking ward against creatures of the night.

“Any word from Julius?” Arikado’s voice was quiet, lacking its normal strength. His head still lay back as he spoke.

“You know as well as I do that we won’t hear from him til the sun comes up or he drags a carcass to your doorstep.” Despite the hint of vexation in her tone, her smile persisted as she spoke. The affection she held for her friend was clear. “And in the meantime, you should consider getting some sleep.”

“Not a chance.” His protest was quick and sharp.

“I think the chances are pretty good if you keep sitting like that.” Immediately Arikado’s eyes snapped open and he sat up straight. But posture was short lived - soon he let out a breath and the weight of the day settled back onto his shoulders. Yoko watched him with sympathetic amusement. “You look exhausted, Arikado.”

“I am, but I can’t rest until this matter is handled.” It was clear that his body and mind were at an impasse.

“Kids are a lot of work, huh?” Yoko rose to her feet and began making her way across the room.

“My fatigue has more to do with using magic while in this form than it does with Soma,” His eyes followed her as she moved. “And excuse me, but I believe you’re meaning to imply something.”

“Oh come on, Arikado.” The woman sat herself at the table, inspecting the torn painting that layed there. “We both know you’ve got a soft spot for him. We all do, it’s really alright.” She unbuckled the grimoire that was strapped to her hip and began flipping through its pages.

“It is not strange for me to be relieved that Dracula’s reincarnation is peaceful.” The agent furrowed his brow.

“And it’s also not strange to meet an adorable kid with a good heart and feel like you want to protect him and see him grow up to be big and strong.” Finally the witch landed on the page she’d been searching for. She held the spellbook in front of her, reading over its contents. “”It’s especially normal to feel that way about your own family.”

“Isn’t that going a bit far.” A chill entered the man’s voice and his eyes slid away from her. “It is vastly more complicated than that.”

“Does it have to be?” Her words became gentle as she traced a sigil above the painting.

Arikado didn’t answer her. His eyes had come to rest on the hall’s entrance. In the morning Soma had stood there, hiding from him. Despite the pitch black soul that lurked within him, he had looked small and afraid. So innocent to the history that bound him that he couldn’t even fathom the dhampir. He’d fought countless monsters, sealed Chaos itself, but facing a perturbed Arikado was almost too mighty a challenge to bear.

“There, much better.” The silver glow that had twined itself amongst Yoko’s fingers began to fade. As if time had reversed, the portrait of Maria was healed. Only the smallest scar on its frame remained. The witch plucked it from its place on the table and brought it over to her friend. “Happy?” He accepted the painting gingerly, studying the restoration with a serious look.

“Indeed. Very well done.” He set the portrait aside and returned his attention to the woman before him. “I owe you a good turn.”

“If you really want to pay me back, get some sleep.” She lightly tapped his head with the spine of her grimoire. “Julius is out there and all fired up. Leave the rest of the night to him.”

“Fine.” At long last the agent relented. “But you should too. Use my bed, I’ll be just fine sleeping here.”

“How gentlemanly.” Yoko strolled to the lamp, her hand idling on its switch. “Please actually go to sleep, Alucard.” With that she flicked off the light, leaving the agent in the dim sitting room.

For a time he stayed vigilant, keenly focused on the night beyond the picture window. But he was always one to keep his word, and soon acquiesced to the realm between dream and reality.

“I didn’t want to believe it myself.” The old man stroked his beard as he spoke. “I thought this matter was far behind us, banished on that terrible night.” His words were slow, heavy. “Some part of me still desperately wishes I’ve made a mistake.”

Alucard's golden eyes were wide. He stood frozen and tense, as if turned to stone. Even as the Hakuba patriarch spoke, he couldn’t pull his gaze from the sight before him. He felt his body tremble. It was slight, a byproduct of his racing pulse and reeling mind. A physical manifestation of the deep terror that seized his heart.

“There’s been no mistake.” His answer was slight, little more than a whisper. “I can smell it. I can smell his blood.” Putrid. Dense, cold iron. Were it to be pulled from his body, surely it would flow black as the night.

“Then I suppose there’s no doubt left.” A sigh left the priest’s lips.

“We failed.” Alucad’s shock was slowly sinking to despair. “How could we have failed?” The nightmare that he’d fought centuries to destroy, that had claimed endless lives, was supposed to be over.

And yet there it stood. A small boy, ignorant to the dhampir’s gaze. With him was the granddaughter of the priest. They played just as any children would, and yet one held a soul scorched black by sin.

Despair turned to ire, and ire to hatred. Was he being punished?

What God would allow such an affront? With the chain of resurrection broken, Dracula’s soul should have been burning in the depths of hell. But it had been given new life, yet another chance to cast darkness and terror across the land. Would the devil never truly die?

Alucard was horrifically aware of the sword on his belt. His gaze remained fixed on the child. How much suffering could he spare humanity by acting now?

“Alucard.” The priest's voice took him from his thoughts. “I’ll concede to whatever actions you believe are best. You are undoubtedly the pinnacle of wisdom when it comes to Dracula.” The steady measure of his words eased the burning in the dhampir. “But if you would allow me, I’d like to offer my own thoughts on this conundrum.”

“Speak.” His tone was grave.

“The workings of the universe are far beyond my understanding. I think it may be fair to say that even you find yourself at a loss when faced with such a dark revelation.” Finally his gaze was wrenched from the boy. “But perhaps it is not so dark as we fear. Life after life of violence, each resurrection a link on a chain, a chain on your heel. How many times have you had to cut yourself free? How much did you bleed in the process? You have been noble in your suffering but you have suffered nonetheless. Violence has been your bondage and violence the blade to cut yourself free. Brutality was his legacy, his greatest sin. Your father did nothing to deserve a new life, nor a chance at redemption. But perhaps there needn’t be a reason. Perhaps redemption is its own reason. Perhaps the cycle of violence doesn’t end with yet more violence, but with this strange twist of fate, and whatever becomes of it.” The old man turned his view to the children, then returned to Alucard. “That child is not Dracula - not for the moment, at least. Maybe he never will be.” There was a serene strength in the priest. “But he is the inheritor of Dracula’s soul. For centuries you have taken it as your burden, and you have shielded humanity from it’s darkness. So I will concede to whatever you deem just, Alucard. But good God, I beg that you refrain from enacting violence in front of my granddaughter.”

The dhampir stood still as a statue. This man had earned his respect, and he took his words with the utmost sobriety. Yes, this discovery had shaken him to his core. But haste helped no one. He would stay his hand and refuse to carry through with such a horrific act.

Thus Alucard made his decision. He would wait and he would watch. Cinders of fury still scorched him, so he would have nothing to do with this reincarnation. He would become an unknown observer - Genya Arikado. Striking gold was traded for unremarkable black and his home for the next decade hidden away from the world. Supernatural affairs were universal, and he would bide his time as a specialist. The boy - Soma - would be undisturbed, ignorant of Arikado’s watchful eye. His life would continue as it had so long as darkness failed to surface.

The eclipse was the inevitable end of this stasis, a looming deadline that marked the beginning of the unknown. In its approach, Arikado would be faced with the question of how to proceed. He would lead Soma to the accursed castle, and there the agent would see if the chaos within its walls would awaken the devil lurking in the pit of his soul.

The dhampir would have to interact with the reincarnation for the first time. He would be curt and keep his distance - the thought of speaking to Soma revolted him. No matter the life he had led, this was still Dracula. There was no need to do anything more than point him in the right direction.

But immediately, he found his expectations challenged. The sight of the castle and its many denizens struck fear into the boy. He was compelled not by a lust for power, but by a desire to help the people he cared for - Mina, who he’d grown up with, but also Yoko, a woman he’d met only that day. Arikado’s assumptions about Soma were tested and ultimately shattered. He was reluctant to use the powers granted to him, and even more resistant to keeping them. He panicked at the sight of a wounded Yoko and constantly fretted more for Mina’s health than his own.

By the time Dracula’s soul had truly made itself known, Arikado felt himself pulled to help the boy. Soma felt no thrill at the promise of power, nor did he desire the throne, Soma’s torment left the agent pained, it tugged at his heart and begged his kinder instincts to take command. Finally a long-denied reality sunk in: this was not Dracula. This was a scared, confused child who’d suddenly been handed the weight of the world.

Guilt filled the dhampir’s breast when the castle attempted to claim him. It was all he could do to slow its process, to give him a bit more time to fight the evil that threatened to blot out his mind. Arikado hadn’t prepared for such a turn of events - for Chaos itself. Yet the boy trudged on, undeterred and intent on freedom. Then, by some miracle, he succeeded. Rather than embrace the infinite fount of power, Soma rejected and destroyed it. He desired nothing more than the life he already had.

The eclipse ended and Arikado was left to reevaluate. Soma was not the hellspawn he’d expected - quite the opposite. He was kind, a bit brash, and cared deeply for those around him (though he could sometimes be shy when it came to showing it). There was an innocence in him that felt impossible. How could such pure intention rest alongside Dracula? He could hardly understand it.

In the span of a night, uncertainty had replaced hatred. Arikado was still deeply discomforted by the boy’s existence, still ever cautious and all too aware of what he had the potential to become. But something lay beyond that - a glimmer that unnerved him most of all. Soma’s character had evoked in him something beyond standard altruism, something that threatened to bring comfort to his weary soul. Buried deep within the dhampir was a growing fondness. Julius and Yoko were similarly partial to him - they’d quickly come to adore the boy, and they made no attempt to hide it from him.

But Arikado could do no such thing. He could not bring himself to embrace the boy’s presence the way they had. His comrades were far from naive, but they had not lived through 600 years of Dracula’s cruelty. They weren’t so familiar with the crimson glint that hid in the backs of Soma’s eyes. Eyes that had cursed him, eyes that had torn him apart. Eyes that he’d watched light fade from numerous times. Eyes he himself had closed.

Was he being punished?

There was a pain in it. A pain he had yet to describe. There was a growing discordance within Arikado, and the only respite he could find was in turning away from it. His role as the boy’s guardian could be seen to from a distance. He could file it away in his mind, make Soma a responsibility to tend to, a reminder in his phone and a mark on his calendar. There was still something that gnawed at him, but this made it more manageable.

This tenuous balance the agent had found would swiftly be thrown into disarray. Out of nowhere, an attempt on Soma’s life. It should have been his responsibility to dispatch the threat, to tear the cult apart and keep the boy as far from it as possible. But of course, he was brash. He’d never liked following Arikado’s instructions, and here he dismissed them entirely. Arikado had barely been able to run damage control as Soma blazed through their lair, and in the process, endangered himself and the world. Celia had nearly drawn the dark lord out of him, and its lurking presence had been enough to synthesize a demon that threatened to tear apart reality.

Arikado had felt the pain so fiercely then, it pierced him, and stung as it prickled against the anger born from Soma’s reckless rebellion. Though the latter faded and the day was once again saved, his original affliction persisted. As weeks passed and Soma settled back into daily life, Arikado was left to his anguish. The routine he’d been able to hide himself in was interrupted, and even as he tried to return, dread stained the edges of his mind. He began to wonder if the hatred he’d initially felt had truly dulled. Perhaps this was its reprise.

But no, that wasn’t right. He’d resented his father. He’d grown to oppose him on every front, becoming such an antithesis that he took the name Alucard as a symbol of his defiance. That hatred was low and cold, etched into his bones and carried as a duty; he wore it like chains, just as the priest had said. The unease Soma caused him wasn’t so infinitely dense, it was frenetic, inconsistent. It rose and fell with time and place, reaching peaks when Celia had targeted him or the stray vampire had appeared, and easing when he saw the boy conversing happily with Yoko and Julius or eating a meal with Mina.

Darkness always seemed drawn to the boy, lurking shadows conspiring to extinguish him. They circled like vultures. Arikado always searched for them in the corners of his vision, praying that he might catch them before they brought Soma harm. Already he’d failed twice. And there it was, another rise of that familiar agony, aching pain whenever he considered how horribly those moments could have turned out. It spurred him to act, to finally take matters into his own hands and put an end to the close calls. It was what moved him to bring the boy under his direct supervision following the latest attack.

Of course, there was anxiety in closing that comfortable distance he’d put between himself and his father’s reincarnation. Anything more than a cordial, business-like relationship with him would be difficult to navigate. It didn’t help that Soma was so young. There was a time when Arikado had been able to get along with hot headed belmonts and other fiery hunters, but the weight of centuries had mellowed him. He appreciated the quiet and the calm, and he no longer had time for foolishness and petty behavior. Soma wasn’t the most headstrong, but he still managed an impetuous streak when he found something unjust or evil. Some Alucard lost to time would have found it admirable, but in the present it struck Arikado as a liability. Why should a child be asked to endanger himself?

Not long after Soma arrived, he would find that that very notion was a source of tension between them. Arikado couldn’t blame him for wanting to be treated as an adult, but to the dhampir he seemed so small and fragile. Clearly he could take care of himself - Soma’s power threatened to rival his own - but there was so much experience he lacked, so many mistakes he could make. Arikado still felt the need to keep him from the evils of the world, be they evil creatures or evil truths.

But Soma had asked Arikado to tell him everything, and the dhampir had promised to do so. He had no intention of going back on his word - to do such a thing now would be disastrous. Granting his request seemed a challenge almost too large to comprehend. Arikado had never been fond of talking about himself, and he was less fond still of speaking of his father. What would he say? Was he to tell Soma of Lisa? That tale still pained him. Perhaps he could convince the boy to settle for recountings of his clashes with creatures of the night, with descriptions of the dear friends he’d met throughout his years and still carried with him.

But… No. It wouldn’t be enough. He knew now that the agent held some connection to Dracula. The boy had already asked once, and surely the question would come again. There seemed infinite possibilities, infinite phantoms to be dredged from the past. To Arikado, the challenge felt more perilous than any night beast and greater than the imposing castle itself. He could only do so much to prepare himself.

The rest he would have to face head on.

Golden rays of dawn met weary eyes, and Arikado found himself once again in the waking world. He was slumped at an odd angle in the lounge chair, the stiffness in his neck and back bringing memories of the previous night. The man took a deep breath. It was a comfort at least that a blanket had been thrown over him at some point during the night.

A feather-light presence perched on his shoulder. He watched the blinding sunrise as the fairy hummed quietly. There was much to do, but a few minutes more could be spared.

“You were quite restless during the night. Did you sleep alright, Master?” Its voice was soft, perceptible only by proximity to his ear.

“I was dreaming, that’s all.” His voice seemed to match. Quieter than he had intended, and quieter than he thought possible.

“Was it a good dream?”

Chapter Text

This was the third time Soma had woken up in an overly spacious bed swathed in sheets of thread counts in the high hundreds. As he stretched under the covers and took his first deep breath of the morning, it occurred to him that the house was finally starting to feel less alien.

He was cautious as he lowered his legs to the floor and stood up. Yoko’s treatment had dissolved the throbbing pain in his ankle to dull static the night before, and after a long rest it seemed to have reduced to little more than stiffness. Stretching would likely do his foot some good - healing magic couldn’t totally alleviate the toll on one's body, and without standard upkeep even the greatest of spells would go to waste. That sentiment Arikado had drilled into his brain through lectures so often repeated that he could recall them word for word. That thought didn’t annoy him as much as it usually did, in fact, he sort of found it… funny?

In any case, he’d listen this time. It was easy to fit a few stretches in before changing out of his pajamas and going through his morning routine. It was all beginning to feel normal; fresh towels, the soft creaking of wooden floors, and of course, Arikado awake before him. Today, Soma found him in the kitchen, spreading a dark red jam over slices of toast. His usual three-piece attire forgone, he wore a simple blouse and the golden ascot that seemed to be his standard. The look struck Soma as remarkably casual - prior to now, he’d never seen the agent wear anything short of a crisp button up and vest. He was also struck by how much the outfit gave Arikado the feel of an unshelled crab.

He decided to keep both observations to himself.

“How is your ankle faring?” He didn’t turn to face Soma before speaking, instead continuing his task. Perhaps the speech was a bit sudden, but that sort of behavior no longer seemed strange to the boy.

“It’s okay.” Soma rolled his ankle gently in its socket as he spoke. “A little stiff, but I stretched a bit and it cleared up.” Arikado turned to him now, plate in hand. For a fleeting moment, a hint of something like pleasant surprise graced his face. The man then crossed the kitchen and offered him the plate. Soma accepted it with a look of confusion. “I heard you get up.” Arikado simply answered. Satisfied, the boy followed him to the table and took a seat. The food was happily received, and Soma had already torn through half a piece of toast before he thought to speak again.

“Are Yoko and Julius still around?” He picked at the skin of an orange as he spoke. “Did everything go alright? With… y’know?”

“They departed some time ago. Julius cornered the creature a bit before daybreak, and now,” Arikado gestured to the window. “It’s gone with the light of day.” Soma’s expression was thoughtful as he bit into a portion of the orange. Belmonts were no joke. He knew little beyond the basics of Julius’ family legacy, but even he could tell that the old man not only took his duty seriously, but excelled at it. Once again, he was grateful for his friend’s deft restraint in their matches.

It would seem that his troubles were over then - the vampire that had stalked him was merely a pile of soot now. Even so, Arikado, Yoko, and Julius would surely disagree that he was fully safe. As the agent had said, if that vampire knew his identity, surely others did too. He doubted he’d be moving back to a studio apartment any time soon. The boy polished off his first piece of toast and moved on to the second. It wasn’t all bad - he never woke up to breakfast and clean towels when he lived on his own.

“Soma.” Arikado’s voice broke him from his thoughts. The man sat with a contemplative look drawn across his face. One arm was crossed over his chest, the other rested on it with a loosely balled fist brought to meet his chin. Soma bit into another piece of orange and waited for him to speak further. “I’ll tell you anything you want to know today.”

It was all the boy could do to keep the half-chewed fruit from falling out of his mouth. Just like that?! The declaration was so sudden he felt like he might suffer whiplash. Yesterday the agent had pleaded that Soma give him time - he assumed that meant weeks, or at least a few days!

The boy shook himself back to a dubious state of composure. This was what he wanted, so why question it? He dropped the remainder of the fruit onto his plate and straightened up. His face grew pensive as he gathered his thoughts, attempting to recall all the disparate queries that had nagged him over the past days. Arikado was quiet, seemingly waiting for him to respond. But now that opportunity was laid before him, he hardly knew what to say.

“Sorry, could you hold on a minute?” Soma suddenly stood up from the table. Without waiting for the man to reply, he crossed the sitting room and made his way to the end of the L-shaped hallway. Once in his room, he opened the drawer on his night stand, and retrieved the golden glasses that had been stowed within. He stopped a moment, holding them gingerly in his hands. After a moment of quiet resolution, he turned and made his way back to the sitting room.

He found Arikado looking somewhat flummoxed upon returning - clearly the agent hadn’t expected him to abruptly leave when offered answers. Quickly though, the agent pulled back to his standard, stoic demeanor. Soma approached, casting off a hint of hesitation that buzzed at the back of his skull, and offered the folded glasses to him. Immediately they caught Arikado’s eye, and as he took them back from the boy his eyes widened and his brows sunk into a look of shock and vexation.

“I didn’t mean to, but I accidentally took these yesterday.” Despite his resolve, Soma’s voice was softened by a lingering sense of guilt. “I didn’t mean to keep them, I just didn’t know how to give them back without upsetting you any-” His words ran dry as the agent placed the glasses back in his hands. The boy’s eyes snapped from the spectacles to Arikado.

“I believe you, there is no more need for apologies.” He lifted his own gaze to meet Soma’s. There was something else there now, something the boy could hardly identify. It delayed his words, trapping him in a momentary hesitation. For a fleeting second Soma feared he might never speak again. “This might be a good place to start. Put them on.”

Now it was Soma’s turn to be confused. He knew they held some magical property, but thus far the glasses had done absolutely nothing. Still, Soma would oblige. He trusted Arikado, and if anyone knew their true utility, it was him. His fingers curled around the spectacles. Soma’s grip was light, as if the glasses had suddenly become paper-thin shards of ice that may shatter or melt at a moment's notice. The boy unfolded their temples with the utmost care, feeling Arikado’s eyes on him all the while. Then he raised them towards his face.

Soma stopped short. The glasses had yet to reach his eyes - instead they were suspended a couple of inches from his nose, frame still pinched between thumb and forefinger.

The boy's gaze was locked on one of the lenses. His body was frozen, but his mind reeled. He couldn’t understand what he’d begun to see. Finally he managed to move his eyes, looking to the black hair that framed Arikado’s face, then back at the glasses. Beyond the lens lie platinum locks - just the tips of them, at the moment. The image inside and outside of the spectacles was different as night and day. He glanced between them again. Once. Twice. A third time, even. A quake ran through his body as he realized he’d made no mistake. His gaze shifted again to Arikado and his eyebrows fell, suddenly unsure, suddenly nervous.

“It’s alright, Soma.” The agent’s words were measured and calm, barely above a whisper yet they resounded deafeningly in the boy’s head. “Go on.” Arikado looked at him with dark, black eyes. As Soma met them he thought they seemed to hide slivers of silver. He studied them, as if trying to memorize a picture.

Then he raised the holy glasses to his eyes.

Before Soma Cruz sat a stranger. Platinum blond curls fell upon the shoulders of the man’s white blouse. Their length was not unlike what the agent wore, but there was an unnatural weightlessness to them, an inhuman perfection. Behind lips he had once recognized sat sharp fangs, piercing needles that hung below the rest of his teeth. Even in their stillness they menaced him, harkening back to the stalker or the myriad life draining creatures that had roamed Dracula’s castle. He felt an impulse to draw back, to guard himself from the creature before him. Instead, his gaze returned to the eyes. They shone golden, blinding as the morning sun. Genya Arikado had disappeared, and in his place sat a being more fae than man.

“Are you frightened?” As he spoke, Soma was treated to a greater view of his fangs. His voice was the same as Arikado’s, as were the contours of his face. Even so, he felt unknown, strange and new and terrifying. Soma was frightened. He didn’t know what else to feel.

“I don’t understand.” The boy inched back reflexively. His voice was weak, strained by the unfathomable vision before him. A shock of insight ran through him and he wrenched the glasses from his face. Arikado returned, sitting before him just as the vampire had.

“What you saw was my true form. Genya Arikado is a persona I took on for the sake of convenience.” The agent spoke slowly, hoping to give Soma time to process the revelation.

“Your true form- wait,” Soma was having trouble keeping his thoughts aligned. Each seemed to crash into the next like a train. “If Genya Arikado is a persona, then is-” He frowned “You’re not Arikado?” Betrayal was clear in his tone. Fear had abated, giving way to hurt. “You were lying to me this whole time?”

“Deceit was never my intention - This was only done in the service of privacy and restraint. To blend in.” The agent had known this would be difficult, but he had hoped to avoid this line of questioning. The pain apparent in Soma’s eyes, however slight, tore into him and settled like lead in the pit of his stomach.

“Were you ever going to tell me?” The boy clutched the glasses close to his chest now. They served as something - anything - to hold on to. His eyes had dropped to the floor, refusing to meet the faux black of Arikado’s.

“I’m telling you now.” That wasn’t enough. “Because I want you to know. Because it is important to me that you know.” His words earned back Soma’s gaze.

“What’s your real name?” Such a simple question, yet both felt its weight. The boy had relaxed somewhat, but there was still an anxiousness about him.

“My name is Alucard.”

“Alucard.” It wasn’t far from the name Soma knew, yet as he rolled it in his mouth it felt strange, fantastical even. The initial shock he’d felt was wearing off and resolve was taking its place. He hadn’t expected his guardian’s appearance and identity to be a sham, but then again, what was he expecting? He knew from the start that Arikado - Alucard - was a man of secrets. He was starting to understand why the agent had tried so hard to keep so much from him, but he still disagreed with it, still felt pangs of righteous anger at the thought. There was still more he wanted to know, and this newest revelation only multiplied those lingering questions. He wasn’t going to settle so soon, not when the agent had finally offered him transparency. “I want to know who Alucard is.” Soma swallowed before continuing. “And I want to know what he has to do with Dracula.”

His question was met with a sigh - not of irritation, but of sturdy resignation. Fortitudinous as Alucard was, there were still things he had to mentally prepare himself for. Seeing as he’d been preparing himself all morning, it seemed no amount would ever be enough. He lifted himself from the chair, standing to face the boy.

“I apologize, I know you may find Arikado to be the more… reassuring presence, but it wouldn’t feel right to me if I didn’t have this conversation with you as myself.” Before Soma had time to respond, the man before him was fading away. As if dissolving with water, the black that colored his hair dwindled and vanished, leaving pristine blond in its place. Shadowy eyes were once again overtaken by sunlight, and the whisper of fangs appeared at the edge of the man’s mouth. Alucard, in his most authentic and divine form, stood before Soma - no relic or charm needed to see him. “My name is Alucard. It is not my name by birth, but it is the name I have chosen and the name I consider to be true.” His voice possessed a conviction and grandeur that felt as if it commanded the air itself. “I have walked the earth for six centuries, and in all of them I have stood in opposition to Dracula and his vile hoards. That has been my duty with the countless ages I have lived, and it is my duty now.”

Soma stood immobilized in his presence, a diminutive deer in headlights as he looked at the man that towered before him. He had known since yesterday that the agent was not human, yet in this moment that inhumanity shook him to his core. The fear he felt now was not the terror he’d felt yesterday - it a quiet, pliant fear, a grave awe inspired by the sublime. It came to him like instinct - an aversion deeper than blood or bone, the clawing of his soul against its corporeal prison. At any moment the being before him might lift it’s hand and strike him down, smite him from existence in mere seconds.

But Alucard did not move, and Soma did not run.

Despite the racing of his heart, the boy knew he was not in danger. The person before him might have had a new name, he may have shone like the morning. But his face was still Arikado’s. The stern, prideful tone he spoke with was the same that Arikado used. That was enough - enough to keep him grounded, to keep him from losing himself in the blinding light.

“Are you frightened?” Soft words from the man called Alucard broke him from his wide-eyed contemplation. He’d barely noticed how long it had been since either of them had spoken. The dhampir still gazed down at him.

“I am.” Soma answered truthfully. “But I’m okay.” His words hung in the air. For some time stillness persisted. The boy stared in Alucard’s direction, but more through him than at him as the implications of the disclosure sank in. A hunter of Dracula. A slayer of Dracula. Soma had long known Arikado, Julius, and others had played a role in finally putting his past self to rest, and it didn’t much bother him. But to wage that war time and again over hundreds of years? And now, to stand here before him, the reluctant incarnation, as a guardian? A chill ran through him. Once again, something urged him toward retreat.

He denied it.

“I’m glad I know now.” Resolve held firm, and though his eyes hadn’t moved, he was finally looking at Alucard again. “Even if it’s hard to hear. I’m glad you told me.” He gathered himself, then spoke again. “I guess you would kind of stick out here. Y’know, with the whole-'' Soma lifted a hand to point at his hair. There was something comical about it - where Arikado’s hair was subdued in its extravagance, Alucard’s looked like it had been professionally styled that day. Perks of being a vampire, perhaps?

“Yes, I had quite a bit of trouble at first.” Alucard smiled. It was light and warm, and for a moment Soma couldn’t fathom how he’d thought to be scared of him.

“I was, uh.” Soma started, still gathering words that felt scattered across the floor. “Why did you decide to dedicate yourself to...to fighting Dracula?” The smile that rested on the man’s face dissipated, leaving in its wake sobriety. For a moment, Soma saw a flash of sadness in it. Then, Alucard’s attention strayed from him. He looked past the boy, and without turning to follow his gaze, Soma could guess where his attention lay. Sure enough, the agent strode past him, crossing the room toward the hallway. When he reached its entry, he stopped and looked back at Soma.

“I want to give you a chance to decide you are satisfied. If this is enough, if you feel content with what you’ve already learned, then so be it. There’s no great need to continue. We can carry on with our day as usual.” He paused, eyes locked with Soma’s from across the room. He was waiting - not for a response, but for an answer. As silence stretched between them, it occurred to the boy that his words were also a warning. If he were to follow Alucard, to pass that threshold and enter the attic once again, there would be no going back. Alucard, Arikado’s true identity, even his existence as a vampire. None of it was as consequential as the truth he invited Soma to now - the truth that it was better not to know.

If an apple was held out to him - even hesitantly - he would take it. Was that not what he’d already decided? What he’d relentlessly, recklessly pursued? Now he saw it, perfect and red as blood before him. How could he possibly turn away? It struck him as a beating, visceral thing. A heart, or perhaps a soul. He knew too well how it felt to accept such a thing into his being, the gruesome act of ripping it from its host, letting it crawl inside him and melt itself into his flesh and bone. But here, in Alucard’s hands, it was freely given - and that was terror in its own right.

There was no accusation, yet Soma felt that to turn away now would be to betray him. He could fathom it as nothing less than an act of petty spite - a retaliation for the loss of Genya Arikado. He couldn’t do such a thing. Not after Alucard had bore so much for him.

And so he crossed the chasm between them.

“Please tell me.” The boy stood squarely in front of the dhampir, grey eyes meeting golden. Silently a contract was sealed, and silently a seal was broken. It was so mundane, watching Alucard unlock the door to the attic, watching him step aside and usher the boy up. The stairs were still plain and wooden, the dust and darkness still quietly slumbering.

The coffin had been closed, and the mess of swords gathered and laid neatly on the ground. Soma’s eyes danced around the familiar vision, eager to find what he’d been led here to see. But when Alucard finally spoke, his voice came from the stair landing.

“It is my hope that you can understand the difficulty I’ve had explaining this.” Soma turned to see him taking hold of a long, hanging cloth. In his haste to escape the previous day, he hadn’t noticed the fixture on the wall and the length of old fabric that lay over it. Now it was made plain by the sunlight pouring in from the opposite window. Light spread across the wall, a perfect wreath to accentuate the form beneath. “Soma, listen well.” The agent spoke again, but the boy’s eyes did not move to him. “My name is Alucard Tepes.” With a single smooth motion, he pulled the draping away to reveal the portrait that lay underneath. A scene of a family - father, mother, and infant child. “Son of Lisa and Dracula Tepes.”

Soma didn’t know what it was that struck him. He’d been entranced, utterly unable to turn away from the painting. Alucard’s words reached him at the same time - confessing the truth of his blood. Deep in the pit of the boy’s skull, he’d felt as if something had snapped. A sudden kinetic shift, like a wire pulled too thin. All he knew was that in the moment he felt lightheaded. He dropped to the floor with as much control as he could manage, settling in a sit as he exhaled. His eyes refused to leave the portrait, even as he attempted to collect his bearings on reality. It was serene, warm beyond the light that fell upon it. It was the very definition of divinity to him, that was what his heart cried. The figures were utterly foreign, and yet the sight of them - of the woman especially - filled him with such a deep longing that he feared it may rend him in two.

“Are you alright?” He’d hardly noticed Alucard approach him. The agent was crouched in front of him on the stairs, reaching out as if to touch him, but stopping short and waiting for him to respond. His golden eyes had widened, a display of surprise and concern at Soma’s sudden fall.

Right, there was Alucard. Alucard, son of Dracula. Dracula, his previous life. Soma had been so transfixed by the painting that he’d barely given him any thought. The boy’s eyes drifted to the child in the picture. Golden, piercing eyes - the very same as the ones in front of him. The taloned hand of Dracula lay on the infant’s shoulder, protectively, even fondly. Not a mistake or a bastard, but the full blooded son of the dark lord. He wanted to say something, to put words to his bewilderment as he marvelled at the man before him. All he managed was a squeak as he choked on the flurry of questions and sentiments that erupted from within. He was faced with a new dilemma, one he could never have fathomed before this moment: What was Alucard to him?

He’d barely been able to answer that question as it pertained to Arikado, and his true identity was an even greater beast. What was he supposed to think of his past self’s son? What was he supposed to feel? At the very least, it gave him a bit of context for the agent’s actions. If he was going to be forced to live with someone following the attack, of course family would be chosen.

Wait, family? There was a new word. Family. That certainly wouldn’t have been how he described Arikado. But now, in the wake of this revelation, he wondered if he was supposed to. Was he expected to?

“Am I your dad?” Soma blurted out the question, his mouth moving faster than his mind and lending no thought to his words. Soon cognition caught up, breaking him from trance and confusion through sheer intensity of the embarrassment he felt. Heat ran to his face as he watched the look of concern melt from Alucard and a whisper of chagrin take its place. “No, I’m sorry, I meant,” The boy clambered to amend his statement, but what little disapproval had shone quickly faded from the man’s face. As Soma spoke, Alucard moved to sit next to him at the top of the stairs. “I was wondering if we’re, uh, are we, well,” He stammered. It should have been easier, now that the dhampir wasn’t looking him dead on, now that his eyes were firmly locked on the floor.

“No.” Alucard’s answer was swift, putting a merciful end to the boy’s blunders. “There is no blood between us, you should not feel any obligation to claim such a thing.” When Soma turned to face him, he found the agent looking forward, gaze set firmly in the middle distance. His face was stony and neutral, fixed as to not betray any bias. Something about the sight filled him with sorrow.

“I know.” Soma started, turning from Alucard and setting his eyes back on the wooden stairs. “But I guess I just thought-” He paused, searching for a way to express the swirling chaos in his heart. “Even if it’s not really there, I’m still Dracula, and you’re still his son.” He brought his hands to his lap, idly fiddling with the cuff of his sleeve as he spoke. “That’s something.” He snuck a glance at the vampire. Cold neutrality had given way to a slight frown. His eyebrows were pressed downward, a slight furrow that belied inner turmoil.

“You are not Dracula.” He spoke barely above a whisper, but his words were so sharp and crisp they could have sliced flesh. “You are Soma. You don’t have to carry anything of his.”

“I already have!” His words crashed through the heavy stillness of the attic. “I still do.” Soma brought a hand to his chest. “I don’t really get a choice in the matter, so why hide from any of it? It always finds me anyway.”

“I wanted to grant you a normal life, away from the terror and bloodshed of his legacy.” Alucard's eyes clamped shut as he spoke. Words came quickly, but his canter grew uneven.

“How does keeping everything a secret help me live normally?” He balled his hands into fists. “I just get blindsided over and over again. The eclipse, Celia, that vampire, I never know anything until it’s too late.” For a moment his frustration broke. His eyes moved back to the painting, and he remembered the topic at hand. “Why hide this? I don’t get it, I don’t understand why you’d hide something that’s actually good, something that wasn’t going to hurt me!” That was enough to crack what was left of Alucard’s stony façade. Shattered, he finally looked at Soma.

“You’re hurt now,” He could hear the vampire’s voice shake as he spoke, golden eyes wide. “I can see it.” Soma could meet his gaze with nothing less than shock. He’d never seen such raw, unguarded emotion from Alucard before. Dismay shone clear as daylight on him. Then his eyes cast to the floor and his head sank forward. “Soma,” He spoke from behind a curtain of blonde curls. “Ever since I’ve known you, I’ve been so afraid. I have been terrified something would happen to you or something would hurt you. Dracula is nothing but suffering, I didn’t want that to touch you. You don’t deserve the burden you were handed, you are too kind for it.” Alucard lifted his head and heaved a great sigh. The fangs Soma saw looked nothing short of human. “I have been terrified something would hurt you and take away the wonderful person you have grown to be. I only desired to keep this pain from you, I thought I could lock it away and keep it from cursing you any further.”

Words failed him. Hundreds of years of life couldn’t have prepared him for such a profession. Soma was frozen in place, face set in pure bewilderment well after the other had said his piece. Silent seconds trudged by, and slowly Soma’s muscles unlocked. He brought a hand to the back of his neck, the other crossed firmly over his chest. Finally he felt able to speak, but what could he say? Did he want to say anything? He still held a lingering frustration at the agent’s actions over the past year, still believed that keeping him in the dark had been wrong. But when spoken so sincerely, he couldn’t stop himself from empathizing. On top of that, he was a bit overwhelmed by the man’s words. It was only last night that Alucard had directly praised him for the first time - how was he supposed to respond to such a sudden and profuse commendation of his character. If he weren’t in the thick of a truly incomprehensible situation, he might have blushed.

“Thanks,” Soma started, still a bit unsteady and not entirely sure where he was going. “For caring about me.” His eyes wandered forward, coming to rest once again on the family portrait. He could only see a swipe of gold out of the corner of his eye. He could feel Alucard’s presence beside him, but not hear him. He was always abnormally silent like that. Soma felt anxious to fill the silence, anxious at what the vampire might say next. Maybe he was just as at a loss as Soma was. Attention returned to the painting. “So that’s Dracula.” Simple words, easy and light. Like empty calories sating a growling stomach. The man in the portrait was smiling. “For how, I guess, ‘important’ he is, I’ve never actually seen him.” The words practically fell out of him. Idle thoughts, idle chatter. Anything but more silence between them.

“He doesn’t look very menacing there, does he?” Alucard looked up at the portrait now, chin resting on clasped hands. Something lonesome remained in his face, but he’d recovered well enough. Soma was struck by how much the agent resembled the woman in the painting - Lisa, he’d called her. His mother. They shared the same hair, the same light curls that framed them. They would have been easy to mistake for one another if it weren’t for the sharpness of Alucard’s face - that clearly connected him to his father. The count’s visage was stiff and boney. Hard lines ran across his face, giving him an undeniable intensity in spite of his pleasant expression. He was wide, sturdily built in deep contrast to his wife. The man sitting beside Soma was a true compromise between the two. Broad shoulders on a lean frame, towering height but soft demeanor. A child of contrast and impossibility.

“He doesn’t look too mean.” Soma lifted a hand to his own hair, taking a lock between his thumb and forefinger and rubbing it idly. Dreary silver was the only similarity he could find between himself and the painting.

“Don’t let it fool you,” Alucard began, his words were serious, but his tone was far more casual than it had been before. “He was every bit as merciless as you’ve heard.”

“Even then?” Soma nodded toward the painting. He heard the agent take an arduous breath beside him, the flow of conversation staggered as he searched for the right words.

“There was a time when…” He paused again, reconsidering his statement. “For a brief period, he put his cruelty to rest. My mother’s influence was no small matter.” A hint of nostalgia was muddled in his expression, the lightest longing for something long consigned to history. “She convinced him to be better. For a time.” As quickly as it had come, it departed, leaving only a stern frown in its place. “But I suppose that is the way of the undead. Nothing stays in the grave for long.”

Soma was once again taken in by the image of the woman. As Alucard spoke, he felt exceptionally raw. Each word rent his heart, the lashing of long aching wounds only just reopened. It was a senseless pain, and yet it engrossed him, a masochistic urge akin to picking at a scab.

“Why’d she stop?” Soma’s question came quickly, a ravenous desire to know more of her. “Did something happen?” The pain that crept into Alucard’s face was confirmation enough.

“Yes. She was human. Others saw her as having dealt with the devil, and she was persecuted by the people she was trying to help.” He stopped short, unwilling to recount the details of the tragedy. “And Dracula’s carnage was born anew, redoubled and unending.” Something boiled in the pit of the boy’s stomach; the last ember of a doused fire, steaming and crackling as it raged against its fate. It was a sickening feeling.

There was more to ask, more to say - but Soma chose to leave words unspoken. As much as he desired to hear more of the woman, there was a clear pain in the subject - for both of them. He already knew that many would rise to fight against Dracula - his reign wouldn’t go unopposed. Belmonts. Belnades. Other soldiers fighting in the dark. And then there was Alucard, their torch in the endless night, a golden sun born of the devil incarnate. Bound by blood to strike down his own father, a man lost to monstrosity. He wouldn’t ask the person sitting beside him to confirm it. Instead-

“Was there anyone else?” The crooked eyebrow of the agent spurred him to clarify. “Any other children? Like siblings? Or other relatives?”

“No, there was only me.” He paused for a beat. “There is only me.”

“Then did you ever...” Soma cast his eyes downward as he spoke, too embarrassed to look the vampire in the eye. “Make a family?”

“You’re asking me if I was ever married?” Soma’s awkward glance pushed him further. “You’re asking if I ever sired children.”

“You don’t have to say it in such a weird way..” The boy could barely look at him.

“No. I never-” Alucard cut himself short. Was that really something he should tell Soma? That he’d expressly avoided such a thing for fear of what it might create? For fear of his own blood, the terrifying prospect that something like Soma might happen? The boy shouldn’t hear that, especially not now. “I was never married, and I have never had any children.” Soma looked slightly perplexed at the trip in his speech, but the amendment passed well enough.

“But you’ve been alive for so long.” Self consciousness had left him. “Sorry, it just sounds a little lonely.”

“Yes, there is a loneliness in it.” Alucard turned, looking at the attic behind them. “But that doesn’t mean I’ve always been alone.” Soma followed his gaze, eyes falling over the myriad trinkets and the recently mended portrait. He fished in his pocket, once again retrieving the golden glasses and holding them out to the man beside him.

“It’s always just been me.” Alucard gingerly took the glasses as Soma spoke. “I mean, Mina’s mom always told me I was like family, but that’s different. I never got to know who or where I came from.” Soma paused. He wasn’t sure where the sentiment was leading. “I know that’s not the same. But I… I’m glad I know you now.” He could see Alucard looking at him from the corners of his eyes.

“I’m glad I know you as well, Soma.” The smile that spread on his face was feather light, easy to miss had he not been so accustomed to the man’s visage. It held within it an undeniable warmth, a comforting glow that Soma felt in the depths of his soul.

He sat in tranquility for a moment. He was still curious - what was it like being half human, half vampire? Had he met many of Julius’ ancestors? What was it like to grow up inside Dracula’s castle? - But the burning desire for understanding that had haunted him was finally satiated. There was still so much to learn about the agent, but he no longer felt frustration and dread over those mysteries.

“Hey, Alucard.” The name still felt strange. New, and strange to pronounce. Slowly though, he was growing accustomed to it. “I was just thinking. That vampire guy is gone now, but like you said, there could be more people like that out there.” Soma folded his hands in his laps, gaze laser focused on his own interlocking fingers. “I was wondering if, for the sake of safety and all that, I could keep staying here.” His lips were pursed and his eyebrows were firmly knit in a look of pure concentration. It struck Alucard as especially silly next to his request, and the man’s soft smile went crooked as he looked on with amusement.

“You may stay as long as you like.” Alucard placed a hand atop the boy's head. A light ruffle of his hair was all it took to break him from his dramatic composure - and practically make him jump out of his skin in the process. “You are always welcome here. You are my kin, after all.”

It was a bit embarrassing to suddenly be on the receiving end of such an act. Soma looked to the side, but he didn’t move away or stop Alucard. He felt the indignant urge to needle the agent for calling him “kin” only minutes after rejecting the idea, but he feared what might happen if he did. He didn’t want Alucard to second guess it. He didn’t want the declaration revoked.

The hand soon withdrew and Alucard stood up. Soma watched as he strode to the pristine shelves and placed the spectacles back in their designated home. For a moment the man was still, inspecting his work, perhaps recalling some old memory. But quickly, he returned to the staircase, stepping past Soma and descending to the first landing.

“It’s much too dusty up here, and I’d like to ask your opinion on something.” The agent bade Soma to follow him. “I have been considering getting a second lounge chair. I would like your input.” Finally the boy lifted himself to his feet.

“What about something roomier?” His balance had returned, but as he began down the stairs he couldn’t keep his gaze from wandering back to the portrait. The woman’s shining blue eyes met his own, tugging at him as if a ribbon of silk lay between her smile and his heart. Something stirred beneath the peace he’d reached, something akin to sorrow.

“You mean like a loveseat?” He barely registered Alucard’s question. Soon the landing was behind them, and the painting crept out of view. A tension left the boy’s body as the door shut behind them.

“Yeah, something like that.” He turned to face Alucard. “Hey, you’ll tell me more some time, right? About all that stuff, and about you?”

“Of course.” The agent seemed surprised at the sudden change of topic, but answered without hesitation. “If you have more questions, I wouldn't be opposed to you asking them now.”

“No, thanks okay.” Soma ran a hand through his hair, smoothing what had been rustled out of place. “I mean, thank you. But I think I just need a couple of minutes. It’s a lot to process.”

“I understand.” Alucard gave him a polite smile. In truth, he felt a tinge of sadness at the boy’s departure. Difficult as their conversation had proven, the dhampir felt more at peace than he had in years - perhaps since he’d first learned of Soma’s existence. Perhaps even longer. “Please do not hesitate to approach me.”

Soma nodded in response before excusing himself and departing down the hallway toward his room. Likewise, he felt level. Warm and comfortable despite the strange circumstance of their newfound bond. But something else nestled beneath that feeling of ease. Something that pricked the corners of his eyes with tears as soon as he’d turned away from Alucard. He pushed the door shut behind him, then collapsed onto the bed. Letting out a deep breath, he slid his phone from his pocket, and in an effortless, practiced motion pulled up his contacts. He rolled onto his side, bell tolling in his ear, counting the seconds before the line was answered.

“Hello? Soma?” Mina’s voice rang out, the slight digital fuzz overlaying it.

“Sorry for calling out of nowhere.” He was silent for a beat. “I just felt like… I really wanted to hear your voice.”

Chapter Text

Soma’s track record with dirty dishes had always been a little spotty. He’d learned well enough to look after himself (living alone would do that to you), and most of his more slobbish tendencies had been curtailed by the sheer disappointment that radiated from Mina whenever she arrived to find his apartment a mess.

But dishes. Dishes were his bane.

Nothing was worse than soggy food debris. The kitchen sink was a war zone that he minimized his time in. When he did brave it, he was quick and tried to keep his eyes from the casualties that lay there. This habit led to a vicious cycle: he avoided dirty dishes, they piled up, and then he had to fight through the mess in one big, bloody battle. Some might think (and many had told him) that he could easily be broken from his pattern of torment by simply washing dishes as soon as he was done with them. They were correct. However, whether or not Soma himself would recognize it, he was still only a teenage boy who liked to be a little lazy now and then.

But during his stay with Alucard, the bad habit had failed to materialize. Something about the thought of leaving any sort of mess around the agent’s house didn’t sit well with him, and so once again he found himself in front of the kitchen sink, sponge in hand as he washed suds from a plate. It didn’t bother him as much today - in fact, he found himself wishing there was more to do; the simple, menial task had served as a welcome distraction from the cacophonous noise in his mind.

By any metric, he should have felt good - and he had not long ago. After what felt like an eternity of clashing and conflict, Alucard had finally told him the truth and resolved to keep no more secrets from him. Further, the man had revealed his lineage and accepted Soma as his blood. There may have been no direct relation between them, but given the nature of the boy’s soul, their connection was undeniable.

Soma had been happy. Overjoyed, even. All at once there was a comfort and a rush in being able to call someone family. He’d done well enough on his own, and he certainly hadn’t been alone, but there was an undeniable sense of lack that had shadowed him. He wasn’t sure how to classify the dhampir, but they were relatives. That was enough.

Thinking on it now, the whole affair gave him better context for Alucard’s many strange actions - both over the past year, and the past few days. Arikado had been so inscrutable when Soma had initially encountered him. He was at first distant, demanding, and so cold the air around him had stood still. But so suddenly, when Soma found himself struggling under Chaos’ sway, he’d become an utterly steadfast ally that encouraged him to fight on. It couldn’t be easy, Soma thought, staring down your bloodthirsty father’s reincarnation.

But these realizations weren’t what bothered him. If anything, he wished he could stay in those thoughts - bask in newfound understanding, the satisfaction of a mystery unwound, and fledgling feelings of attachment. No, none of this, not even the melancholic ponderings of Alucard’s tale, was what troubled him. It was something deeper, something just beyond physical sensation. Deep in the base of his skull was a nagging static, a heavy pulse akin to a headache, but resulting in no real pain. It had started in the attic - only a stirring of emotion then. When he’d spoken with Mina, it had subsided. But when he’d risen from his bed, ready to speak more with Alucard, ready to learn and understand, it had magnified to new intensity.

He felt almost ill, his body dense and his mind foggy. But that wasn’t the worst of it; his heart had turned to lead. Joy and familiarity were pushed aside and obscured by steely grief. Woe and confusion wove themselves through his ribs, spidery stalks growing through him and threatening to stifle all that he was. He could find no meaning in his pain, no impetus for the weight and discord that swallowed him. It was so senseless that it angered him. He should have been happy. Why, now that he had finally succeeded, was gratification stolen from him?

He was too wrapped in his thoughts to notice his arms begin to shake. His mind only caught up when a glass had slipped from his hand and tumbled into the sink, sending a spray of water across his shirt. Soma recoiled immediately, throwing his hands back and dropping his head to inspect the damage. Luckily, the glass hadn’t broken, but the splash of lukewarm suds on his shirt was an unwelcome addition to his ongoing sensory nightmare. Frustration mounting, he abandoned the sink immediately. He marched to the bathroom, pulling the hand towel from its ring and dabbing it against the wet spot. It wasn’t going to be perfect; really he should just change into a new shirt. He looked up at the mirror.

It was empty.

No reflection stood there, just the still, mundane bathroom.

Soma stood petrified, mind grinding to dust as it attempted to reconcile the sight before him with standard reality. The boy’s eyes were wide as he faced the void. Maybe if he stared long enough, he would appear. Maybe it was all a mistake, he’d looked at it wrong, confused himself somehow. Seconds passed, seconds that felt like days. Finally, like a flash of lightning, he dashed from the room and all but crashed through the door to Alucard’s office. The distance was short, and yet he found himself panting. His balance was gone, eyes unable to focus as he gripped either side of the door frame for dear life. When his gaze finally fell on the man in front of him, it was not Alucard.

Genya Arikado had returned - smooth, black hair coiffed against the collar of his blouse and midnight eyes wide as they took in the disheveled state of the boy. Soma was thrown to the left, sucker punched out of one confusion and into another. How was he supposed to approach? What was he supposed to call this person?

Before he managed to center himself, the dhampir was already upon him. He brought a hand to Soma’s forehead, pushing his hair out of his face so as to inspect him. Alarm had been clear from the moment the boy entered, but as Soma looked up at him, it began to change to a look of fear.

“Soma,” The agent spoke slowly. “What happened?”

“I can’t see my reflection.” His words came before Alucard’s had finished. Silver iris had been overtaken by deep, dark scarlet. He could feel Soma shaking beneath his palm.

“Open your mouth.” There was a calmness to him, even in the midst of panic. Alucard stood firm, a focal point against domestic scenery as Soma’s colors bled onto the canvas. The boy reached out, present enough to grab the agent’s arm. In turn Alucard raised his hand to meet his forearm, providing an anchor, a stable pillar to bear his weight.

Soma obliged the request without question, dropping his jaw open. His canines were sharp, perhaps sharper than most humans, but not elongated. That was good. He removed his hand from the boy’s forehead, allowing strands of silver hair to fall back into place. He was still warm, veins still coursing with blood at each beat of his strained heart.

“You’re alright, Soma.” For now. He omitted the last words. Stressing him further would do neither any good. “But it may be wise to sit down.” The boy nodded, making no resistance as Alucard guided him into the office and slowly lowered them both to the floor. He laid his back squarely against the wall, and Soma followed suit. This was steadier - or at the very least, he was at less of a risk of falling over. “Tell me what happened.”

“I don’t know.” Soma gave a faint shake of his head. Silver strands danced, allowing the agent to catch another glint of red in profile. The boy heaved a shaking breath. What had happened? There was no evil god calling to him, no grand witch trying to provoke a transformation. Nothing so extreme had occurred, and yet here he was, back in the horrific throes of the dark lord’s influence. Everything was normal, nothing bad had happened. Nothing bad had happened, he repeated to himself. Suddenly he turned, eyes meeting the agent’s concerned gaze. “What do I call you?” He wanted to call it a distraction, something to keep himself out of the silence of the room and the endless noise that scratched out from his skin.

But there was something deeper, something that desperately wanted to know. In this state, seeing the agent brought him a swirling mess of both comfort and pain. It was as if he stood in the eye of the storm; respite, but no lack of anxiety. Was the man tending to him Arikado or Alucard? The mysterious agent, or the son of Dracula? The dark of the night, or the light of day. It discombobulated him, calling the dark haired man Alucard. Truths twisted and lines blurred, leaving him sideways amidst his panic.

“You may call me either.” The question blindsided him - this was hardly the time for pedantry. Still, he wouldn’t deny Soma something so simple, especially as he was. “Alucard, Arikado, it is a simple matter of preference.”

“But which one’s real?” Alucard couldn’t tell if it was pain or frustration that pitched his voice.

“I suppose Alucard is my true name, but Arikado functions just as well and serves as my name by law.” What was it Soma wanted? This couldn’t have been the root of his state. The boy cast his gaze downward at the answer, brow furrowed as he chewed through what the agent had offered.

“Then I want to call you Alucard, when I can.” He answered. The dhampir could see perspiration coalescing on his forehead.

“Then you may.” Alucard began. He was still under duress, even if he tried to change the topic. “I would like to address-”

“Why did you change back?” Soma cut him off. “To Arikado. Your disguise.” Alucard was silent for a moment. Had it bothered him? No, perhaps it was more akin to offense.

“I suppose I have grown quite accustomed to this form.” He wasn’t sure himself. It was almost like instinct; Alucard’s task was complete, so he once more assumed his persona. A mundane form for mundane matters. It was… comfortable? He cared little for outward expression - the look of Arikado had been curated first and foremost to blend in. Any form would do, so long as it negated attention and sealed away his more monstrous traits and predisposition toward magic.

That was all, right?

“Soma, I apologize, but I would like to focus on you for the moment.” Regardless, the matter at hand was urgent. He intended to keep his word - should Soma wish to learn more about him, he would oblige. But this wasn’t the time. “How are you faring? If you do not know the cause, then we should start by addressing the symptom. Describe it to me. Please.”

Soma swallowed. He was hesitant to think of himself, to feel his body and soul and give any attention to the screaming in his bones. But Alucard was right, and he feared where negligence may bring him. His grip on self was loose, and ignoring it any longer, even if it brought release, may prove deadly. Soma closed his eyes, slumped against his guardian’s shoulder, and relaxed his body. He allowed himself to feel each writhing nerve from tip to toe. Then he delved deeper, past blood and muscle, into the sensation that he called a soul.

“It’s different, this time.” He started, eyes still closed. “I don’t feel like I’m losing control, or like something is trying to push me away. But it’s-” He licked his lips, eyelids straining as he attempted to put words to an otherworldly sense. “It’s grabbing me, and it’s holding me, and it’s shaking me. And this time there’s not - there’s no pain, not physical pain. But I feel so much, more than I’ve ever felt before. It’s too much, and it hurts. And I-” His eyes shot open and he inhaled sharply. His attention turned toward Alucard, a mix of confusion and fear churning within him. “I feel like I’ve done something horrible.”

There was a sharp edge to his words, a grave conviction that unsettled their speaker. Alucard was at a loss; he had no idea what could have evoked such deep penitence. He’d long forgiven Soma’s blunders of the previous day, and just a few short hours ago he’d seemed comforted by their conversation. What could he have done in that time that shook him to the point of instability?

Soma had no answer for him. He didn’t understand it himself - the blistering anxiety, the stinging misery that lashed him like the parched winds of a desert storm. The fact that he’d lived through two similar episodes before brought him little comfort. This was different, not a bodily contest, but a rending of his psyche. His skull had split open and the torment of a stranger poured in. Perhaps he would survive this trial too, but what then? Would he simply have to live through occasional assaults on the fabric of his being? The prospect made him nauseous.

“I don’t know what you mean.” Alucard spoke, still trying to puzzle out the meaning of his words. He should have been a comfort; there was no one else, perhaps in the world, better equipped to manage and amend his predicament. But as the dhampir spoke, he was anything but soothed. His anguish only deepened at the hint of stress in Alucard’s tone. “You haven’t done anything wrong, Soma.”

Lies! It was a lie. It had to be. Soma could find no error in the agent’s statement, and yet his gut reaction was to reject it.

“I shouldn’t have made you tell me.” Soma stabbed at any semblance of explanation, as if identifying his sin might put an end to the turmoil. He didn’t regret his choice, he was elated at the knowledge he’d gained. Yet, perhaps that was wrong. Perhaps his suffering was some divine repudiation of his hubris. That could make sense, right? Penance enough, once he’d learned his lesson?

“No, your curiosity was entirely reasonable.” Alucard rejected the assessment outright. “You were correct, my keeping things from you was only a hindrance.”

“But this is my fault!” The boy closed his eyes once more. “This is happening because I asked for too much - because I know.” Suddenly, the boy froze. The words struck something within him - a note of recognition, an oasis of calm amidst the scorching sea. As if awaking from a long slumber, Soma opened his eyes. The static inside him still crackled, but it had lowered to a shiver. He removed himself from the agent’s shoulder, sitting up straight and turning to face him properly. “I know, Alucard.” The dhampir looked at him with wide eyes, waiting for clarification, or for confirmation. Soma furrowed his brow and brought a hand to the side of his head. “No, that’s not - I don’t remember anything. But I can feel it. I can feel him, and what he felt.” His eyes wandered, losing track of Alucard and tracing upward to the great painting of the castle that hung above him.

He remained idle as Alucard stared at him in disbelief. Something halfway to a frown had grown on his face as he sat, back still firm against the wall. The picture was of interest to Soma, but it was merely a familiar point to fixate on as he attempted to dissect and name the indescribable expanse within him. He sorted sand, grain by grain, each disappearing back into the storm after a brief touch. Then, a sudden confusion crossed his face. He turned, looking to the agent’s desk and the oval frame that stood propped there. The boy had seen it before. The many times he had passed by Alucard’s office, yes, but beyond that. There was an ancient familiarity, the recognition born of the second self, the lapsed self.

Alucard followed his gaze, finally lifting himself to his feet and silently crossing the room. He plucked the frame from its stand and offered it to the boy. Soma accepted it with urgency, pulling it close as he inspected it. The blond woman - Lisa. A simple portrait, and yet how it shined. Her smile was brilliant, a moment of unrestrained joy and adoration frozen in time. Blue eyes felt a cool spring of relief, a bottomless fountain of love. His soul was soothed, and for a moment everything was calm and clear and fine.

He barely registered the handkerchief offered to him. Soma sat a moment, looking at the silken square Alucard held in front of him. Then he blinked, and brought a hand to his face. A damp trail ran down his cheek. He pulled his hand away and inspected it, as if the slight glint of wetness there might hold some answer. When had he begun crying? Soma accepted the handkerchief and pressed it to his face. The why was clear enough. He knew what her fate had been - vaguely, at least. He knew enough.

“How long’s it been?” Soma was surprised at his own ability to speak. The question had come almost automatically.

“It has been six hundred years, approximately.” As Alucard spoke, he lowered himself back to the floor and sat beside Soma.

“Huh. Six hundred years and he’s still crying about it.” The boy had tried to phrase it as a joke, but his tone was too sullen, too raw.

“As am I.” The dhampir’s words came easily. A confession, but an effortless one. Soma drew quiet, momentarily afraid he’d offended the other before concluding that the statement had been nothing short of compassionate.

The boy felt tired. Tears still leaked from his eyes, each taking more out of him than felt fair. Hesitation was steamrolled by the weight of his body, and Soma silently repositioned himself. Sitting was too draining, and so he brought his torso to the floor. The agent’s leg was the only thing near him and so he laid his head against it, portrait still grasped in one hand. The thrashing within him had dulled - not died completely; the whipping, twisting storm within him still raged - but the worst of it seemed to have passed. Perhaps it was the numbing effect of the painting, or perhaps the fracture within him was chiefly focused on its sorrow for the moment.

“I never saw them.” Alucard spoke softly, having caught on to the boy’s exhaustion. “His tears, that is.”

“He hid them from you?” Soma laid on his side, unable to see the man’s face as he spoke.

“No, rather…” Alucard began. “When she was killed, he fell to rage before anything else. Our wound was the same, yet I never saw his grief. Only his anger. And that anger destroyed us. The Tepes family did not die with my mother, but with fury. With violence.” His breath shook. Soma felt the lightness of a hand on his head. The hand of a creature beyond human comprehension. A hand that could so easily crush and rend and kill, but instead gently pet his hair. “But he mourned. Oh, how viciously he mourned. You feel it now, I am certain. In his grief, my father tried to pull the world into her grave, and in my grief, I opposed him. Both bound by the same wound but never united in our sorrow.” Soma didn’t need to see Alucard’s face to know.

The boy closed his eyes, stable enough to focus on breathing for the moment. There was an impenetrability to his state; an isolation born from how terribly unique it was. No other being on Earth would suffer the torment of Dracula’s heart, the onslaught of turmoil born from the death throes of the devil. But a single piece of it was known to his guardian, understood so deeply that it resonated throughout his six centuries of being. A sorrow long held but only newly shared between them. There was comfort in it. A comfort he could neither name nor recognize - nor fully claim to be his own.

“I know it to be an impossibility,” The dhampir spoke again. “Nothing more than a fantasy born of burden and the countless years between here and there. I still wonder, had my words been level, had I been less gripped by my own rage, if I could have stopped him. Stopped him from becoming a monster.” His words hung for a moment. “I know it to be impossible. There was nothing I could have changed. I could never have stopped his war on humanity. But regrets linger.” His hand still rested on Soma’s head. Such difficult thoughts, pains he had never put words to, and yet Alucard found himself speaking freely in his commiseration. Perhaps this was owed to the fear that still gripped him. He maintained his composure for Soma’s sake, but in truth, he was shaken to the core. His worst fears lay before him as the boy struggled against Dracula’s thrall.

Even so, he felt something akin to relief as he spoke. There were many matters upon which he chose to remain silent. He would ask no human to consider his father’s sorrow, nor to console him for his own shortcomings. Yet there was empathy inherent to Soma’s tears; a forced emotion, perhaps, but undoubtedly a raw understanding of the deep wound Alucard bore.

“That’s not your fault.” Soma wiped an eye as he spoke. “You got hurt too, and-” He hesitated. “I’m sorry.”

“No.” Alucard responded quickly, his tone more shocked than it was firm. “You must not apologize for him, and you have nothing to apologize for. You have had to bear a terrible burden for no reason, and you have shown such courage in doing so.” He gently stroked the boy’s hair with his thumb. “It is I who should ask forgiveness. For withholding so much. For how coldly I treated you. I should never have left you alone for so long, Soma. I should have welcomed you sooner, I should have prevented you from growing up alone in this world.” There was cruelty in it. He knew there was. Alucard would never have acted out of turn, but the distance he’d kept for so many years had been self serving. He had expected the worst from a child, and had done only the bare minimum to keep him sound.

There was sadism in it. He’d pulled a youth to Dracula’s castle and demanded he face horror after horror, ending with himself. It had to be done, an experiment to gauge the threat Soma posed in as controlled and isolated an environment as could exist. His duty to humanity to see if the boy was safe. But he was terrified of the prospect, horrified of how he’d ever so briefly thought ‘this serves him right’ as Soma had struggled through the castle’s corridors. He couldn’t forgive himself for that fleeting moment of viciousness - especially not now, as someone so innocent writhed in pain, and in that pain tried to apologize to him.

“You didn’t know, and you’ve been looking out for me since the eclipse.” The boy shook his head as best he could manage in his current position.

“I have. But I knew, Soma. I’ve known for a very long time.” This confession was heavier. A true sin laid bare, he thought. Soma took his words quietly. A moment passed as he mulled them over, slowly coming to understand their full meaning.

“Okay. I forgive you.” The boy stated this as if it were nothing. It was so casual, so sudden that Alucard was taken aback.

“That’s-” He couldn’t accept the sentiment as truth. “Perhaps you should take some time to consider before declaring such a thing?”

“No, I don’t need to.” Soma replied quickly. “I was okay, and I don’t want to hang on to something like that. But I want to forgive you, so I do.” The boy’s tears had finally dried. “And I still want to apologize. For everything that you’ll let me apologize for.”

The dhampir’s assessment had been correct. Soma was far too kind for his burden.

“Very well.” Alucard closed his eyes. “Know that I am deeply grateful for the benevolence you’ve shown me.” There were still other matters at hand. Far greater matters than the agent’s own guilt. “And Soma.” He opened his eyes, voice cutting clear in hopes to grab the boy’s full attention. “Please know that I will always forgive you, and I will always help you if you find yourself in need, so long as you stay who you are.”

There was a pleading in his words - one that was not lost on Soma. A simple request, tinged with desperation. As if he was meekly requesting a typhoon to dispel itself. There was nothing else he could do.

“Alucard, if I ask you something, will you be honest about it?” He wasn’t ready to answer such pleas yet - he didn’t know if he could.

“Of course.”

“I know you’ve been saying that I shouldn’t claim anything of his, or apologize for him, and I know you’re probably right.” The boy caught sight of a lock of his own dreary, silver hair as it fell across his eye. “But I wonder, when you look at me, do you ever see him?”

The question gave Alucard pause. His gut reaction was to tell him no, certainly not. That seemed like the right answer, the one Soma should hear.

But he had promised truth.

“Yes, every so often I do.” He couldn’t see the boy’s face - couldn’t gauge his reaction. “But in those rare moments, it is only the kindest parts of him that I see.”

“He-” Soma faltered; he hadn’t realized he was holding his breath as the agent spoke. “He had kind parts?” He rose from the floor, bringing himself back to sitting and turning to face the dhampir. There was disbelief - no, it was closer to wonder - in his scarlet eyes.

“Yes, he did. But that kindness has long been lost to time. I am afraid it would be difficult for me to describe those parts of my father in detail, but I know I was not an unhappy child. I know he was kind to me then.” It was reassuring to see Soma sitting up. Dracula’s shadow still laid over him, but this was at least a small victory.

“I guess I never imagined that Dracula could be anything like that.” Soma was quite clearly in awe of the agent’s recounting. It was a trifle, the smallest commentary on a fleeting aspect of the dark lord’s character. But it was immense to him. To think that the looming monster he’d been taught to fear, his past life, had been anything less than purely wicked.

“Are you faring any better now, Soma?” Alucard’s voice broke him from his thoughts.

That was a good question - where did he stand now? He was exhausted, that was certain. Between his panic and the tidal wave of emotion that had seized him, he felt utterly spent. Yet still, the static remained. Foreign force coursed through him, duller than before, but no less intent on enacting its will. He gently set the portrait of Lisa down, curling and uncurling his fingers. This wasn’t something he could ignore. The boy knew that despite his fatigue, he had no choice but to fight against Dracula’s thrall.

Still, what did that mean?

It had been so clear cut before - the influence of Chaos, his rage over Mina’s “death”, both had clearly marked exits, solutions that he could at least move toward. This time, it had come sheerly from the acquisition of knowledge. That wasn’t something he could defeat or erase - he couldn’t just forget his ties to the past, and he didn’t want to.

“I think I’m doing better - but it’s still there.” He added the second part quickly. Moving his gaze down to his hands, the boy spoke again as a look of frustration crossed his face. “I don’t know how to put it, but… I don’t think it’s going to go away. I feel like it’s gonna wait like this, then flare up again. I don’t know how to stop it, but I need to.”

“We must find a means of doing so, then.” Alucard brought a hand to his chin, looking askance as he thought. After a moment, his gaze returned to Soma. “I can not claim to be well versed in the intricacies of something as ineffable and unprecedented as your situation, but the place you find yourself in strikes me as unbalanced.”

“Sorry, I don’t think I’m following.” Soma lowered an eyebrow as the agent spoke.

“Apologies.” The agent cleared his throat. “You have been living as a human with the soul of a vampire. I believe it possible that your very being is at odds with itself, and that this puts you in a precarious state.”

“So like I’m unsteady? Like being this way, using Dracula’s power, it makes it so I’m not far from falling over?” He was beginning to understand, but something about the Dhampir’s position didn’t sit well. He trusted Alucard - he, more than anyone else, should know these things - but the theory still felt off.

“Precisely. It was only after you awoke to his power of dominance that you suffered this struggle. Later, due to Celia’s meddling, you began using that power again, and once again you found yourself burdened by Dracula’s influence.” The agent’s face had taken on a stony quality. There was not a trace of happiness within him as he spoke. In fact, there was nothing at all.

“Then what you’re saying is…” Soma’s eyes dropped to the floor.

“Indeed. You can no longer exist like this. You must choose one and banish the other. Monster, or man.”

A heavy silence fell upon them. Soma did not lift his eyes to meet Alucard’s. Static flowed through his veins, and the clock in the sitting room ticked.

“No?” When finally the boy found his reply, it came as a question.

“What?” The agent seemed just as taken aback as he was. Soma furrowed his brow and continued.

“No, I think you’re wrong.” There was something nerve wracking about questioning such a divine decree from someone who could very well be considered an expert. Yet Soma couldn’t accept the ultimatum; deep in his bones, he felt it wasn’t right. “I get where you’re coming from, but it just doesn’t make sense to me. Why wasn’t training with Julius a problem? Or last night, when that vampire attacked?” Alucard looked as if he was about to speak, to defend his position, but Soma shook his head and continued. “I get what you mean, that using Dracula’s power opens me up to his influence, but I don’t know if I think it’s right, and I don’t think ditching it entirely is my only choice. I don’t think I could do that if I tried.”

“I understand your hesitation. You’ve become used to this way of life, and you depend on your abilities.” Though Alucard tried to maintain his composure, his words grew sharp. Soma was young, and he could be stubborn. “But the alternative is far too dangerous. You can not afford to remain between the realms of human and inhuman forever.”

“Okay, then what about you?” Soma knew it was a dangerous move - but he also knew he was right. “Isn’t that where you are - between human and inhuman?”

“I-” The dhampir was too stunned to properly speak. Emotion had fully returned to his face, and at this moment it showed consternation. “I am not something you should endeavor to be.” There was a force to his words, as if he was scolding the boy for drawing such a parallel.

“That’s fine, I’m not trying to be anything. I already am.” This time, it was Soma who held fast to composure. His words were firm, more tinged with emotion (as was his way of speaking), but resolute and without malice or spite. It was as if he’d begun to recognize some pattern and knew what to expect. “What’s with you, saying things like ‘I’m not something you want to be’, or telling me I shouldn’t consider you family. You keep making these weird decisions for me, it’s like you-” brakes screeched before he crashed to his conclusion. He took a breath, then finished. “It’s like you’re always expecting me to hate you or something.”

Alucard didn’t need to say a word - Soma could see in the man’s face that he was right. There was surprise, there was panic, there was something akin to embarrassment. He’d struck true, but hadn’t won. The boy knew he’d have to continue - but not in anger. He didn’t want to fight with Alucard. Not now, not when he was so close to his past self.

“But I don't. You know that, right? I don’t.” He started again “And I’m not afraid of being like you. Maybe that’s actually kind of cool.” He immediately regretted using the word ‘cool’. That was just too lame. But whatever, this wasn’t the time to put on airs. “I know there’s bad parts, I’m feeling that much right now. But having this soul - Dracula’s soul - also lets me protect people, like Mina. And it let me meet people like Yoko and Julius. And it connects me to you. I'm happy it does.” It was difficult, putting it so plainly. But he had to. That’s what seemed to work with the agent.

Now it was Alucard’s turn to be truly and properly embarrassed. Living for as long as he had, he should have known how to respond to such a sudden and candid statement of affection. If he were a few hundred years younger, he might have blushed.

“Soma, I truly believe,” His words came slowly, as if fighting off the entropy of a complete and utter stop. “That there is no good to come from any connection to Dracula, and that there is nothing aspirational about my own.” His sentiment rang hollow in the wake of Soma’s. A pitiful last effort, as if trying to dig his heels into mud. Still, the boy listened. He made no effort to interrupt his guardian or to stop him. He let him say his piece, he swallowed it, then he spoke again.

“Is that why you’re Arikado again?” The agent looked at him with confusion. “Is that why you’re him - in general? Because the “monster” part of you is just your father?”

“It is a matter of convenience.” The sentence felt stiff, practiced. It was altogether unconvincing - to both of them. The dhampir closed his eyes, let out a breath, and looked at the boy once more. “He does feel quite human. More human than Alucard.” His words hung in the air, a thorough concession. Shock had left his face, and it’s place grew sadness. “There is nowhere in this world for something so mismatched as myself. I only wish to spare you this isolation, and whatever other suffering Dracula will bring you.”

“I don’t wanna pretend to be human out of fear. It’s never gonna be that simple, anyway.” He looked down, and as he did, a thought occurred to him. He raised his eyes, looking to the painting of the castle above them. “Back then, during the eclipse. There were witches in his castle. I thought they were just normal people, but they used magic and stuff. But they just looked normal. Completely normal. And then later on, I learned Yoko could do that sort of thing too.” He paused. “I remember wondering if she wasn’t human, but everyone treated her like one. So I thought ‘oh, it’s just like Mina’s charms’ and brushed it off. But I still didn’t understand why we called her a human and those witches monsters. I never found out why. Now I‘m wondering, those people, the ones that killed your mom.” He swallowed. Dangerous words, a dangerous topic. “They did something so awful. Monstrous. But they still get to be called human.”

The boy could feel Alucard’s eyes on him. He was afraid to meet them - afraid he might lose his nerve and concede. But he continued on. The agent, meanwhile, sat in silence. His mouth was drawn in a thin line as Soma spoke of such taboos. He heard him. He would hear him.

“Just now, I found out that at one point, Dracula was kind. That he had a wife, and a son, and that he loved them. He was still evil, I can’t forget that or erase it or apologize for it. But he mourned his wife when she died. Then he faltered and fell and broke completely.” He was well past the line now. None of his words should have been acceptable, given what he had learned. Given what he knew. “It all feels so… human.”

Soma moved his gaze to meet Alucard’s. He worried he was to be yelled at, to be reprimanded for such brashness. But there was no anger in the eyes that stared back at him. The agent was hard to read, he always had been. But the boy saw him plainly now, not Alucard or Arikado, not man nor monster. His emotion, his very self, denied clear cut description.

As did Soma.

“Where does that leave you and I, young man?” Alucard’s voice was gentle. Gentle as it had always been. Even when he scolded Soma, or barked commands, or gave words to his exasperation. Perhaps he had been ornery, or loud, or even cruel. But Soma remembered him as gentle. As scared. As compassionate beyond reason. “Are we to be placed among witches, mobs, and Dracula himself?”

It wasn’t mockery. His question was genuine, his voice kind. It was a painful act, to crack the icey seal that had come to rest on his coffin. To reach a hand into the unknown, relying only on blind trust and the light heart and fresh eyes of innocence. Resignation was a deep slumber and a dear friend with a silver tongue.

“Maybe.” Soma could feel the agent’s faith. “But I think it’s also like… We’re among Mina, and Yoko, and Julius. And each other.” He smiled as he recounted each name. Mina, who he’d known his whole life, who he loved with every fiber of his being. Yoko and Julius, the two he’d known for a year, people he could always rely on.

And Alucard, who he’d known for a few hours. His family.

Someone so very much like him.

“I want for you to live among them. I wish for you to find happiness with them.” The man ached dearly to believe in his vision of the world. “But I fear you will find yourself inevitably separated from them because of what you are. Because of what we are. Dracula is a curse we bear. I only wish I could free you of it.”

“Do we have to call it that?” Soma started. “A curse? I’m tired of feeling like he’s looming over me, or taking up a piece of my heart. You told me that I’m Soma, not Dracula. There’s no part of me that’s Dracula, Dracula is just a part of me. It’s just more me.” He shrugged. “It was always there, even before I knew about it. Even if I ignore it, it’ll still be there.”

A light surrounded by darkness. That’s what Soma had always seemed to him. Precarious, never far from being snuffed out by swirling shadows. In need of protection.

But it occurred to Alucard that perhaps he had been mistaken.

About many things.

A light in the dark. Still small, but slowly growing. Slowly banishing the evils that dared challenge it. Something that could show a path for others.

Endless years had calloused him, Alucard knew this quite well. It was impossible to live the life he had without adopting some defense against the pain of time, and of loss, and of the world itself. Innocence had been ripped from him long ago and it would never return. The weariness he wore served him; he couldn’t afford to be naive or precious in his line of duty. Evil would only take advantage of such sentiment and use it to twist him apart. But the stains he had accumulated could also blind him.

He had failed to realize it before - that the light he saw wasn’t a pure, hard outline. It burned white and hot at its core, but then it traveled, unafraid, into the darkness. It reached and blended and found gray before black. It was impossible to define a boundary where one ended and the other began.

Could the same be true of him?

Did his edges feather and blur into a mosaic like Soma’s? If you were to draw a scalpel down the length of his body, gracefully cutting flesh from bone and daintily stripping each vein, could you sort him into a human half and a vampire half?

Or would you be left with a single, segmented being: Alucard.

The person who had drawn that dichotomy was himself, after all.

When had he done such a thing? He’d carried such thoughts for as long as he had been fighting - ever since Dracula’s war began. Yes, that was it, then. That terrible day that his mother and father were torn apart. The day he began to tear himself into parts he called mother and father. Human and monster. White as a dove, black as a crow.

And all at once, he found himself in the present where neither existed. There was only Soma; Perfect gray.

“Alucard?”

The boy’s voice broke him from his trance. The dhampir had meant to respond; he probably looked like a fool sitting there silently.

“Soma, I apologize.” Alucard closed his eyes and let out a breath. “I was mistaken. Your words are the truth.” When he opened his eyes, he could see the surprise on the boy’s face. It was a warm sort of shock, one that slowly bubbled toward bashful pride. It was an expression that brought a small twinge of joy to the dhampir’s heart. For a moment he lamented that the past days had seen the boy afraid and suspicious, that this current happiness had not been his experience. He wished for a future where it could be. “Your wisdom on this subject exceeds my own, it would seem. Speak and I will listen - so please, tell me how I might help you overcome this.” Soma was caught off guard, as if amidst their conversation he’d forgotten his own plight. He furrowed his brow, once again examining himself before answering.

“I don’t know how to explain it but,” The boy paused, searching for the right words. “I’m starting to feel like I can control it. Like I can push it back.” His focus remained sharp as he spoke. “I think I already am - it’s starting to leave.”

“So suddenly?” Suspicion was clear on the agent’s face, but Soma shook his head.

“No, not like it’s leaving on its own. It’s not even leaving, more - dissolving?” He seemed confused by his own words. “Maybe this sounds silly, but until just now, it felt like too much for me - or at least I thought it was too much for me. Dracula should be, right? But now… I don’t know.” His eyes moved to Alucard. He was unsure, looking for a sign that it was alright to continue. The agent nodded. “Thinking about him, knowing about him, it just makes him feel… more real, I guess? Less like a shadow, or an impossible force of evil that's waiting to tear me apart. He was just some guy now, you know?”

The boy’s phrasing was utterly tactless, and while some part of Alucard felt compelled to rebuke him for minimizing such a dire threat, he could still follow the logic behind Soma’s words. The subject of Dracula was taboo - Alucard himself had discouraged its mention. He was so intimately familiar with the dark lord that it was almost impossible to fathom how little Soma knew - it was easy to forget, too. Dracula, in his eyes, would be akin to Satan. An overwhelming, indomitable force. A night so deep it blotted out the sun. Naturally, he would be afraid. Naturally, he would feel helpless. He was a child, trembling in the darkness, and that very fear could be easily exploited. He didn’t know that Dracula could bleed.

Not until now, at least.

“Do not doubt yourself.” He was quick to respond this time. This instinct needed to be encouraged. “I believe you are correct. Dracula has been felled countless times - there is no reason it can not happen again.” A simple vote of confidence felt paltry, but if it was the aid Soma required, then so be it.

Even so, the boy responded to his rallying. He seemed intent - determined. Perhaps it was only Alucard’s imagination, but he grew brighter. The boy breathed evenly, drawing a hand to his chest and pulling his focus inward. He knew himself, and he knew his power. Dominance. Mastery and manipulation of souls. A remnant of Dracula, yes, but not a loan. This ability had awoken within him before his past self, and it had remained with him even after the shadow was put to rest. So why shouldn’t he have control over his own soul?

His soul. Soma’s soul. No one else. If he was at odds, it was with himself. That’s what he decided.

How he thrashed. How he bared his fangs. How he screamed. And finally, how he relented. Little more than a patter in his heart, a passing twinge of anxiety, a momentary bitterness. Blurred into a thousand other sensations, indistinguishable from a greater whole.

Soma released his breath, an act so tranquil that no doubt could persist. He was whole.

They both were.

Alucard pulled himself to his feet and extended a hand to help the boy. The eyes that rose to meet him were silver. Soma wore his fatigue without restraint; faded tear streaks still ran down his cheeks, his hair was tangled, and pink had yet to leave the bridge of his nose. Still, he smiled. He felt neither pain nor fear, only the warmth of the setting sun and the comfort of home.

Disheveled though the boy was, and often had been, there was perhaps no creature in the world that Alucard admired more. Nothing was so precious as the sight of Soma - his safety, his happiness, his triumph. The ache in his heart would never abate, but he no longer wanted it to. To lose it would be to lose the joy these treasures brought him, an affection he’d thought lost forever, taken with the destruction of his own youth.

Formality was abandoned.

Alucard slung an arm around the boy's shoulders and pulled him into a light embrace. It was an unfamiliar action, urged on by a devotion he couldn’t describe. But Soma held no qualms with the foreignness of it. There was no need to question or guess, he knew he was cherished as nothing less than family. He knew this was a place of security, a place to return to and a person to rely on. There had been no reason for either to believe the world would ever be so kind as to afford them kinship that did not bring suffering or torment. But with the equilibrium they’d achieved, both as individuals and together, was a sure promise of peace.

The gold of twilight fell upon them, each illuminated, cradled by radiance, and each casting a long shadow.

The fates were inscrutable in their whims, weaving tragic histories into strange bloodlines. Perhaps there was no reason for redemption beyond redemption itself, perhaps there was a heavenly balance to be maintained. Chains had bound them, chains of hatred, of duty, of blood. But such bondage no longer had power; they’d not been cut away, nor brutally torn. They had been released, each prisoner gifting freedom to the other, together untwisting their cruelly knotted destiny.

One shining truth stood above all else: After endless dark nights and immeasurable sorrow, a cycle of bloodshed was broken.

Not through violence, but through love.

Chapter Text

Electric light cut through the darkness, illuminating streets that ran through the city like veins. The night was somewhat overcast; swirling winds blew clouds across the sky like waves, and between them, rolling swells of moonlight broke. These brief interludes splashed over the two figures perched atop a high rise.

The first walked precariously along the rooftop’s edge, dropping one foot squarely in front of the other to inch out a straight line. Half the sole of his boot hung over the dead drop into the city below, and his arms were held out straight to maintain balance. It was nothing more than idle pass time. He held no fear of the fall. Gravity meant nothing to him; should he slip, he could stop his descent, slow to a glide, or simply transform his body and fly away.

The young man’s eye followed a car far below. The yellow of shopfronts and street lamps reflecting on a silver iris bearing the slightest halo of red round its pupil. His canines were sharp - far sharper than the average humans, but no greater in length. He wore his silver hair at a medium length, stretching only to his neck. In his youth, his hair always had a slightly messy quality to it (some had gone so far as to call it shaggy). Now, even with the long bangs that fell over his face, it had been tamed - cut and layered to better frame his face, and trained to fall just so. He’d grown in the last five years, reaching a height just shy of six feet. Whatever boyish roundness had been left in his face at 19 had since been traded for a more angled visage, making him look the part of a proper adult. He was handsome, to put it mildly.

Not far from where the Vampire-human’s white coat fluttered in the wind, the Human-vampire’s golden eyes surveyed the length of the city.

Unlike Soma, he’d changed little (if at all) in the past years. His long golden locks still fell perfectly, natural curls refusing to tangle or fray. There was a hint of similarity between them now, perhaps in their cheekbones or the cut of their jawlines. Faint, but perceptible to the trained eye. His own clothes were far less modern than the young man’s. Boots that rose and cuffed at his knee, a black coat trimmed in gold worn over a belted tunic, topped with a precisely tied cravat. The dhampir was far from fickle, and still held fondness for such styles.

Alucard meticulously dissected the streets below. Though the vantage point he had chosen rose nearly 40 stories, distant details were easily perceived by his eyes. Nothing would escape him, and it seemed nothing had.

“Aren’t you overdoing it a little?” Soma called over to him. Having reached the corner of the rooftop, he hopped down from the small stone ledge and crossed to where Alucard stood.

“I want to be certain nothing evaded us.” His eyes continued across the cityscape as he spoke.

It had been a relatively easy night. An outbreak of ectoplasm, mostly self contained, bar a small leak. They’d had to hunt down a few stragglers, but ectoplasm seldom moved far. It had been some time since they finished off what should have been their final mark. The dhampir’s level of vigilance was entirely unnecessary.

But Alucard insisted they be thorough.

So they had been thorough. But this was triple checking.

“Y’know, we’ve got a lot to do tomorrow…” Soma reminded him. It wasn’t terribly late yet, but the last thing he wanted was to wake up groggy.

“So we do.” Alucard frowned at the thought. Finally he ended his search and turned to Soma. “It will be some time until you join me again. I only want to assure that our last hunt is successful.”

Successful, huh? Likely story.

“It’ll only be a few weeks.” Soma offered. “Two months, tops. I’ll have to get back to work eventually.” Frankly, he could afford longer. He could afford to dodge work entirely, if he wanted - his guardian had offered as much. It had taken a couple of years, but eventually Soma had come to understand that money was no concern to the dhampir. Between his unique skill set and the hoards of ancient relics he’d accumulated over his centuries, he hadn’t been strapped for cash in a very long time.

The house they lived in hadn’t even existed before the agent had moved to Japan.

The house they had lived in, rather.

The correction brought with it a pang of melancholy. It was bittersweet, really.

“Even so.” Alucard sighed. “Let us return.”

The living room looked like something out of an upscale magazine - or it would have, if not for the mess of boxes piled near the foyer. Above the tastefully spaced baubles, an intricate golden sword hung on the wall. The upright piano was covered in marked books and loose sheet music, and half-burnt candlesticks sat on the handkerchief spread across its top. Tall bookshelves stood on either side, their thick tomes and occasional curios interspersed with a few framed photographs. A soft looking lounge chair was nestled just beyond the coffee table, and opposite it, under the large picture window, sat a loveseat draped with a blue blanket. The table itself was host to small stone decor and a patch of discoloration shaped like a ring. A stack of books three high had been left there, a bookmark waiting on their right. Near the back of the room, a circular dining table was covered by a square linen on top of which sat a potted plant. Two extra chairs were tucked in the corner, on standby til they were next needed.

Soma deposited yet another cardboard box onto the floor, stretched, then promptly crossed the room and deposited himself onto the loveseat. He had earned a break. There was still much more to do, but a momentary respite hurt no one. The young man leaned back against a pillow, kicked his feet onto the arm of the seat, and closed his eyes. The clock ticked, a steady pulse he’d grown so used to he barely even noticed it.

“If you are already tired, I doubt you will make it through the day.” The agent’s tone may have registered to many as flat, but to Soma it was familiar enough that he knew he was being teased.

“I’m just taking a break and you know it.” He smiled, but in the beat of silence that hung after his words, the expression faded. “Besides, I'm gonna miss this thing. Let me just be comfy a little longer.” Soma folded his arms behind his head.

“If you have grown that attached to it, then you should take it with you.” Alucard had taken residence in the lounge chair - as was their usual distribution in the sitting room. “You will need furniture, no?”

“What? No, we’ve already got the basics covered.” It struck him as an absolutely preposterous offer. “Besides, if I take it with me I’ll have nowhere to sit when I visit.” Soma opened his eyes and turned toward his guardian. “You don’t think I’m not gonna visit, right?”

For as secretive and inscrutable as Alucard could be, there were moments when Soma found him to be utterly transparent. The agent had been nothing but supportive, a huge help to himself and Mina. But even as he’d aided them, even as he’d tried to hide it, notes of his melancholy at Soma’s leaving had shown through. There was something lightly endearing about it; he sulked like a child.

Still, the amusement he felt at the dhampir’s restrained dejection was joined by a heavier concern. There were anxieties that weighed heavily on the young man’s heart, questions he’d long brushed aside or put off until future dates. But now he felt there would be no other chance to broach them.

“Hey Alucard,” Soma began. “What are you going to do after me? After I’m gone.”

“I suppose the same things I normally do.” The dhampir answered coolly. “I do not foresee any shortage of work. Though I will have to put in more effort until you return.”

“No, I mean when I’m really gone.” Soma frowned as he spoke. He wished he hadn’t needed to clarify. It only made the question more difficult.

He was met with silence. Only the slightest hint of surprise had crossed the agent’s face - nothing more than a momentary flutter of his eyelids. Then Alucard looked to the side, drawing in a breath as he contemplated the inquiry. That was a subject that had remained all but unspoken among them. It was hard to guess what Soma’s lifespan might be, given his circumstances. Still, he had grown. He was growing. Whatever the future may bring, it was doubtful that he would be as undying as the dhampir.

“I will bide my time.” Finally Alucard answered, voice softer than before. “I will search for news of your reincarnation, and then I will find you and do my utmost to ensure your safety.” It was a candid answer, easy and natural to him. Clearly he’d put some thought into the subject.

The dhampir was steadfast and resolute. Soma had long since come to understand that he was a man who lived for his duty and would let nothing turn him from it. Everything else was secondary - hunting demons, assessing phenomena, even the bonds he kept with comrades like Yoko and Julius. These matters were important, yes, but never so important as Soma. In his time as the agent’s ward, he’d felt wholly secure and his needs had been more than cared for. Alucard had once lamented that he hadn’t taken Soma in earlier, but the young man worried now that he would have grown up to be a terribly spoiled child had that scenario played out.

More than a caregiver, the dhampir had served as an excellent teacher. Soma had always been clever, but with proper guidance and an eager attitude, he’d proved an exceedingly talented student. Be it piano, spellcasting, even foreign languages, he’d taken to many topics with ease and had worked diligently to improve on those that challenged him. A few short years ago, he’d barely been able to keep up with Alucard when traveling as a bat; now he overtook the man with ease.

These memories gave him pause. Momentarily, Soma considered accepting his answer and putting an end to the subject.

“I’m happy to hear that. I hope you can find me.” He grit his teeth, still hesitant to speak. “But you know, there’s always a chance I might not come back.”

More silence.

Heavier silence.

Alucard had averted his eyes, looking down and aside through a half lidded gaze.

“I don’t want you to be sad or anything, if that happens.” He’d known it would be a difficult topic. There was no framework for discussing the concrete matters of one’s reincarnation or lack thereof - it simply wasn’t something humans talked about. But then again, neither of them were human. Not fully, at least. “I just worry about you, sometimes.”

Soma had seen clearly the way Alucard stood out against the world’s scenery. Despite the greater attention he’d paid in recent years, despite the effort he’d put into cultivating his bonds with Julius, Yoko, and others. He was still an enigma, still a step removed from everything around him. Never fully able to mesh.

Long ago, the dhampir had been a mighty warrior. Soma had heard legends, bright illusions woven from tales that told of Dracula’s son. An immortal, unfathomable creature that stood by humanity’s side. He could see it, that might echoed through Alucard even in the current day - even as a reserved, unassuming and suit-clad agent.

But Soma worried if there was a place for legends in the modern day. Bloodsucking counts no longer claimed dominion over peasantry, and night creatures seldom roamed the countryside. Supernatural threats would always exist, but they’d been greatly tamed. The age of world-shaking clashes between man and monster had ended, and even the most radiant of heroes were consigned to history.

“It would be impossible not to mourn your passing.” Alucard finally answered. They weren’t words the dhampir wanted to speak, but even if he found the topic dismal, he would not deny Soma the conversation - it was clearly important to him. “Were you never to return, I would fall into deep despair. But you need not worry for me. I believe you are confused; it is my job to worry for you.” Alucard paused, noting the concern in his ward’s eyes. “I have experienced many losses. Too many to count. Yours may prove the hardest of all, but I will manage. I always have.”

Alucard lifted himself from the chair and crossed to where Soma lounged. He watched from above as the young man lifted his head to meet the dhampir’s gaze, the light of day cascading around him. He had grown, but to Alucard he still seemed young and new. Innocence still remained. He wore a look so far removed from the horrors of the world despite the ways he had suffered and struggled. It was his mainstay, a beautiful gift from a beautiful heart, an impossibility of the soul he’d been handed. A single moment, no more than half a second. It was all the agent needed to burn the sight into his memory. Then he offered his hand to Soma, helping him back to his feet.

“Let us not speak of finality when there’s still so much in front of us.” Truly, Alucard had little more to say on the matter. He’d thought often of that possibility - that Soma may be an ending, the final link where the chain broke for good. But what good was there in turning his attention toward far off anxieties? He wished to live here, in the current moment. He would handle the future as it came - not tear apart his present self in preparation of it. Everything about Soma was unprecedented, and the agent had learned long ago that his future was impossible to predict.

“I know, but I wanted to tell you,” Soma spoke as he stood in front of the man. “All the times you’ve told me about them, the people you’ve lost. The way you talk about them, it’s like I can see them.” A cold blooded creature that brought warmth to the past, shining upon a vast length of history like the sun. A torch that still burned for all those that had passed, a living memory. “If I die and come back, I know you’ll find me. But if I don’t, I know I’ll still be with you.”

“When exactly did you become so mature?” The agent spoke from a smile, soft and easy. Soma was kind. He always had been. Even now, with a million matters to concern himself with, he found time to care for Alucard. Even now, as an adult, he still looked a touch embarrassed by praise. “Shall we?”

In some ways, it broke Alucard’s heart to ask. To usher him towards the door, to end an era that had brought new color to his impossible life. Yet he had to. He had to be the one to release Soma, to show him it was alright - that he’d be alright - even in the young man’s absence. His future lay beyond the door, and Alucard would never keep him from it.

The apartment Soma and Mina had chosen was a far cry from anything the dhampir had ever lived in. In a way, it was hard for him to understand. Nonetheless, he could trust their choice. It was all the space they needed, nothing more. Comfortable, but not too roomy. They already had all the basic amenities - and then some, seeing as the agent had paid special care in tending to such matters. Soma had lived on his own before, and Mina was quite capable in her own right.

Really, there was nothing to worry about.

But Alucard still fretted as he rested against the wall outside their unit. The door was propped open, sounds of shuffling and movement came from within. Occasionally one called to the other, or a muffled conversation would ensue. It had all faded into the background - so the dhampir was taken off guard when someone joined him.

“Are you feeling alright, Alucard?” Mina leaned halfway out the door. Her red hair was swept behind her ears, pulled into a short braid for the day so as not to interfere with her work.

“I am only taking a rest.” It was nothing she should concern herself over - if anything, his stamina far outpaced her and Soma’s.

“You could sit down inside, you know.” The lady’s tone was sincere - not scolding or suspecting. A genuine offer. “We’ve got seats.”

“Perhaps, but I do not wish to impede your progress.” He turned his head, looking beyond her and into the unit. “In any case, you’re almost finished, are you not?”

“I guess..” She turned to follow his gaze, inspecting his work. A few boxes had been shuffled into a corner for the time being, but other than that, the space was starting to look livable. Better than livable, even - cozy.

“If that is the case, it may be time for me to take my leave.” He leaned away from the wall and stood up straight. The young couple had had a long day, and they should be left to settle into their new home.

“Hold on, at least let me thank you for all your help today.” The dhampir hadn’t expected her to catch him by the sleeve. But he held, just as he was told. She smiled as she spoke, a pillar of white and red despite her diminutive stature. Those kind eyes that had never feared him. Even from the first moment they’d met, Mina had offered him nothing less than compassion. All at once he felt struck, utterly known and accepted in a way he hadn’t been since...

“And you know, you’re welcome to stay for dinner, Alucard.”