He thought I didn't hear him.
But I did.
The creak of the floorboards. The soft rustle of his jacket. The door sliding shut just a little too gently.
Ren is not a liar.
But he's trying to become one.
I waited until I knew he was gone before I moved. My legs ached from the mission earlier—tracking the remnants of the vampire nest that slipped through the cracks. I still had blood under my nails and a silver blade tucked behind my spine.
I didn't follow him right away.
I needed to be sure.
So I waited.
Listened.
And then I smelled it.
Faint… but there.
Blood.
But not Ren's.
Old blood. Hidden blood. Vampire blood.
I found him at dawn.
He was sitting alone on the back steps of the church ruins, hoodie up, head bowed like someone had dragged all the fight out of him.
He didn't hear me approach.
Or maybe he did and didn't care.
"Ren."
He flinched.
I crouched in front of him, hands on my knees, eyes sharp. "Where were you last night?"
He didn't answer.
I tilted my head. "You're getting good at sneaking out. Terrible at covering your tracks."
Still nothing.
I let the silence stretch.
"You're not stupid," I said. "So tell me why you're acting like it."
His fingers clenched around something in his pocket. I saw the flash of torn paper—a sketch.
A face.
A boy.
White hair. Cold eyes.
My stomach dropped.
"You met him again, didn't you?"
Ren looked up slowly. "He's not what you think."
"He's a vampire."
"He's more than that."
I stood. "You sound like Mom."
He froze. So did I.
I hadn't meant to say it.
But it was out there now.
"I'm not letting you end up like her," I said quietly. "She trusted one. She paid for it."
Ren stood too, slowly. "Kazuki's not the same."
"They never are—until you're bleeding on the floor."
His voice broke. "He saved me, Kyouko."
"And what happens when he doesn't?"
We stared at each other for too long.
My brother. The last piece of family I had. Standing in front of me with someone else's blood under his nails and someone else's name in his mouth like it meant more than mine ever had.
And yet—
He looked happy.
Broken, yes. Confused, of course.
But there was something behind his eyes I hadn't seen in years.
Hope.
And that scared me more than anything.
"Don't follow me next time," he whispered, stepping past me.
I turned to speak—but stopped.
Because I smelled it again.
The blood.
Not Ren's. Not Kazuki's.
Someone else.
Close.
Too close.
As the sun rose, I looked toward the treeline behind the church.
And I knew.
We're being watched.
And not just by him.