CHAPTER SIX: I WILL WAIT FOR YOU

The hallway was silent. Too silent. Like the whole inn was holding its breath. Shion stood just outside the sliding door to my room, her arms crossed, her weight shifted slightly on one hip. She looked casual. Too casual. She was doing the "standing perfectly still" thing again, but I saw it. The way her pupils dilated just a little too wide every time she looked at me.

 She was nervous.

 And I stood in front of the door to my room on the second floor of the onsen.

 I swallowed. "So… you're just gonna stand out here the whole time? You can-"

 "NO!"

 The word came fast – sharp, like a gunshot cutting me off midsentence.

I blinked. "I mean, I was just saying—"

 She looked at me. And suddenly, the air between us felt too still. The playful, teasing Shion from before? Gone. The girl standing in front of me wasn't smiling. She took a slow, deliberate step forward. Not too close. Just enough that I could feel the cold rolling off her. Her lips parted slightly, and I caught the barest glimpse of her fangs. Not bared. Not aggressive. Just there.

 "Don't invite me in."

 I frowned. "Shion—"

 "Don't. Invite. Me. In."

 My stomach twisted.

 I wanted to ask why. I wanted to tell her that she was being ridiculous. But I couldn't. Because I already knew. Because suddenly, I was very aware of how thin the space between us was. Because I could see it in her eyes—how hard she was fighting.

 "Let's see how much you know about vampires, Ryu. What happens if you invite one into your residence?" she asked.

 "Can you refresh my memory?"

 I saw her take another measured breath. She nodded, and I could tell she hated having to explain this, like it was embarrassing for her.

 "I'll kill you," she said simply.

 My face fell.

 "Oh, not like I'm some kind of maniac or animal, Ryu. Do you understand? I'm NOT an animal, Ryu, do you understand?" she asked.

 "Yes, Shion. I understand. You're not an animal," I started, but she interrupted me.

 "Then listen, because there are RULES, and they CANNOT be bent. And they certainly can't be broken. Because… when you break one of these rules… things cannot be the way they were before… ever. And…" she looked at me with her waterless eyes, but I could tell, if she were alive, they would have been lined with tears.

 Shion's tears would never fall. I wanted to reach out – to tell her I was listening. But I didn't. I couldn't. It hurt, but she couldn't come in.

 My throat felt dry. "...You don't trust yourself."

 Her jaw tensed. A single muscle in her cheek twitched.

 Then, she laughed – soft, breathless. Hollow. "I trust myself just fine. As long as I'm full. But… if you invited me in, that's the same thing as saying 'Shion, you can feed on me as often as you please,' and I'd NEVER forget that. And later, some night when you're asleep and I'm hungry… Ryu…"

 Her dry pupils burned themselves into my eyes.

 "I'd suck every last drop of blood from your body before I even realized what I'd done. And there'd be NOTHING you could do to stop me and… that's how it would be."

 I nodded slowly, letting everything she said sink in. I'm so dumb. Shion is the first person I've met here, and she drank my blood, and I'm imagining hanging out with her in the common room like she's a coworker. Or just a regular high school classmate. And the thing is… I wanted her to be, but she never could. Not now.

 She stepped back. The tension snapped like a wire pulled too tight. She looked at me again, softer this time. But not any less dangerous.

 "Yeah. You should wait out here," I said.

 She leaned against the wall, arms folded, gaze tilting up toward the ceiling like this was just another afternoon. It wasn't. I swallowed hard and slid the door shut. Only when I was inside, away from her, did I realize my hands were shaking.

 I walked into my room and felt an unsettling mix of familiarity and alienation. These were my things—but remade, altered, brought here. Or rather, they were things that Ryu had brought to his room at Shin'yume-sou. Our tastes were similar enough to be eerie.

 A desk sat beside the patio door, which opened to a small porch overlooking the onsen. Two closet doors stood shut to the left. His futon lay in the middle of the room, still unmade from this morning. A couch and side table lined the right wall.

 I opened the drawer in the center of the desk. Yes! Letters, a folder… Oh my god. I had paperwork here. A schedule for Crescent Moon Academy, grades from Ryu's former schools. Adopted parents.

 Ryu's life was like a twisted mirror of my own.

 He was born in Elkins, West Virginia—just like me. But in a different year. Then, our lives split. When he was four, his Japanese parents adopted him, and they moved to Osaka. When he was ten, they moved to Kyoto. And Ryu… had problems. He had a reputation as a rebel. Crescent Moon Academy was the only school that accepted him.

 I exhaled slowly, slipping the identification papers into Ryu's book bag and slinging it over my back.

 "Oh, thank goodness," I muttered.

 In the corner, against the wall, a guitar. My guitar. It even looked like mine—but black, with dragon stickers.

 "You really lean into the whole 'Dragon' aesthetic, don't you?" I muttered, smirking.

 "Who are you talking to?"

 I jumped.

 "Who's there?" I tried to keep my voice steady.

 Silence.

 Then—

 A whisper. Faint. Soft. Like someone speaking from another room, their voice barely slipping through an old vent.

 "You can hear me? For real?"

 A girl's voice.

 My heart pounded. "Can you speak up? I can hear you, but barely," I said loudly.

 BANG.

 Someone downstairs smacked the ceiling.

 "Nya! Keep it down up there! Yelling hurts Natsumi's ears!"

 "Sorry, Natsumi," the whispered voice murmured.

 I swallowed hard. "Where are you?" I asked, quieter this time but still firm. I moved toward the wall, pressing my palm against it. Maybe she was in another room?

 "Shhh… you can use your normal voice." The whisper came again, gentle, deliberate. "I'm right here, Ryu. Standing beside you."

 A chill crept up my spine. My breath caught.

 "You just can't see me," she whispered.

 My eyes scanned the room—slowly. Carefully.

 "My name's Yuki Fuyuzora."

 The whisper softened. "The ghost of Shin'yume-sou."