CHAPTER NINE: I STILL HAVEN'T FOUND WHAT I'M LOOKING FOR

Someone was watching me.

 That much, I knew.

 Yuki didn't mean the "new kid hazing, and everyone's looking at me like a weird curiosity" kind of watching.

 No.

 This was different.

 Like being studied.

 And I didn't like it.

 I also didn't like what the creepy woman at orientation said earlier—something about the school "respecting" those who wanted to fight.

 What the hell did that even mean?

 "And we respect that here," she said.

 Provost Hina Suiren… who was she, even?

 Since when did respect and violence go hand in hand?

 It felt like a test. Like a challenge.

 And I wasn't sticking around to find out what happened if I failed.

 I didn't even pretend to care about the reception anymore.

 I'd sat through enough of these stupid formal events back in my real life. This one was no different—fake socializing, people forming alliances before they even knew what was going on, and enough subtle power plays to make a medieval court jealous.

 At least television had the common decency to throw in some nudity during the boring parts.

 Nope.

 I was done being dragged along.

 I slipped out the door, breathing in the cool evening air. The sky was still painted with the last streaks of sunlight, but darkness was already creeping in from the edges.

 Perfect.

 I'd memorized the road from this morning. The tunnel was deep in the woods according to Shion. All I had to do was retrace my steps.

 For the first time since arriving at Crescent Moon Academy, I was moving under my own terms.

 And then—

 "Ryu?" a breathless whisper at my ear.

 Yuki.

 "Where are you going?"

 "I need to find the tunnel the bus took me through when I got here," I said.

 She said nothing for a few seconds.

 "You need to be careful! You shouldn't be in the woods at night!"

 Something about the way she said it made me know she wasn't playing around.

 Thankfully, I still had some time.

 "It's not yet night, Yuki. It's still just the evening," I said.

 "You're trying to leave."

 I heard a tone in her voice.

 Small and sad.

 Damn it. I hadn't even thought of Yuki.

 I sighed. I wasn't going to lie to her.

 "Yeah, Yuki. I'm trying to find the tunnel the bus took me through when I got here."

 "You know… this is the most real I've felt in years."

 Her voice was thin – fragile – like a song that might disappear if I turned my head too fast.

 I slowed.

 "Helping you," she started, "talking to you. It makes me feel like I still… exist."

 I stopped.

 No,

 Yuki, don't do this to me.

 I swallowed, shaking my head. "Yuki, I—"

 "No, it's okay," she interrupted softly. "I knew you'd leave. I knew it the moment I met you because… the onsen… no one ever stays there forever. Except maybe..."

 That didn't make this easier.

 I wasn't forgetting who I was. I wasn't.

 I had an entire life waiting for me in West Virginia, through that tunnel.

 But—

 Damn it.

 No.

 I wasn't a villain for leaving.

 I said nothing.

 I just started walking.

 She didn't stop following.

 "Someone else is here," she whispered.

 "Behind us."

 I didn't turn around. Just kept walking.

 "Who?" I muttered.

 "The boy who mocked you earlier," she whispered. "And two others. They've been watching ever since you left the hall."

 Of course.

 Of course, they had.

 I exhaled sharply through my nose.

 I didn't even care.

 Let them watch.

 I was leaving anyway.

 "Whatever. Once I reach the tunnel, it won't matter."

 Yuki hesitated. "You don't care?"

 I shook my head. "Nope."

 Her sadness felt so real, the same way you feel cold on a winter morning despite thick covers.

 And that made my chest tighten.

 But I ignored it.

 I had to.

 The tunnel, and my old life, was waiting.

 It was exactly where I remembered it.

 A long stretch of stone and overgrown weeds, leading straight into the trees.

 I could see it.

 I could feel it.

 And I knew this was my way out.

 I took a step forward.

 And another.

 Then twenty more.

 Nothing changed.

 The tunnel didn't get any closer.

 But the air? Thicker. Heavier.

 My breath felt like it was pushing through water.

 I froze.

 No tricks. No shifting. The road felt normal beneath my feet.

 But the tunnel?

 Unreachable.

 I walked faster.

 Still the same.

 I broke into a jog. I ran.

 Still there.

 Just out of reach.

 My breath came out sharp, frustration clawing up my throat.

 The world wasn't pulling me along anymore.

 This was a trap.

 A cage.

 I picked up a stick from the ground and threw it as hard as I could, watching it sail toward the tunnel.

 It felt good—like some part of me was throwing a middle finger at whatever force was keeping me here.

 Then—PAIN.

 Something smacked me hard in the face. I staggered back, eyes watering. My own damn stick lay at my feet.

 I brought my foot down hard as I could – snapping it in two.

 Then Yuki's voice cut through the forest's stillness with a simple warning.

 "Ryu," I heard Yuki whisper. "They're here."

 I turned my head just slightly, just enough to see them.

 The guy from earlier — the one who laughed at me in the auditorium—was leading the pack.

 Tall. Sharp-eyed. Smirking.

 His eyes, slightly too big, too watery, and his upturned nose gave him a vaguely porcine look.

 Almost like a pig.

 His two buddies flanked him.

 One was shorter, with a wide frame and bulbous eyes.

 The other was too tall and lean, his gaunt face stretched too tightly over sharp bones.

 They weren't here to talk.

 "Look who it is," the leader's voice sounded lazy, hands in his pockets. Fake casual. "Our little dragon trying to sneak off somewhere?"

 I exhaled slowly through my nose.

 "Honah Lee. I was looking for it. I live there. By the sea."

 The big guy stopped and blinked.

 "…is that supposed to be funny? What the hell are you talking about?"

 Figured.

 He hadn't grown up in the afterglow of the seventies.

 Of course. He had no idea about Peter, Paul, or Mary.

 But his snout-like nose, watery eyes…

 And big.

 I was tall for my age, especially in Japan, but this guy was different.

 He was big. Broad shoulders. Square build. Thick and strong.

 I suddenly put together what he was.

 My eyes narrowed.

 "Orc," I said, making it sound like a curse.

 He grinned.

 "You're supposed to be a dragon, right?" His smirk widened. "Why don't you show us?"

 "Ryu? What the hell are you and your boyfriend doing over there?"

 Shion's voice cut through the tension.

 She and Azuki came jogging up the path and joined us.

 I let out a slow breath.

 No one messed with a vampire.

 The orc snorted, barely sparing Shion a glance. Instead, he nodded towards one of his friends.

 The tall, lean one reached into his school jacket and pulled out a ziplock bag.

 I had no idea what was inside.

 It looked like a bunch of peeled sunflower seeds or something.

 Or maybe uncooked rice.

 "Oh, you think your pale little friend's gonna save you?" he sneered at me.

 I watched as his friend dumped the grains onto the ground.

 Shion's hands twitched.

 Her fingers flexed – once, twice.

 I saw it before she did.

 The second her eyes locked onto the scattered grains, her entire body stiffened.

 She shook her head, trying to hold herself back.

 "Oh no. Oh no, no, no!"

 And then –

 She dropped to her knees, fingers darting forward.

 "One, two, three…" She let out a choked, furious noise. "You SON OF A BITCH! … Four, five…"

 She frantically counted the seeds.

 Azuki's mouth dropped open.

 The orc simply grinned at me, pleased with himself.

 "Stupid vampires have arithmomania," he said. "You just got punked by an orc."

 And he tried to shove me.

 I barely caught my balance, but I felt it, for just a second, it seemed like the world slowed.

 "Wait!" I yelled.

 He paused, confused.

 I had to think fast.

 "Why the hell are we fighting here? What's that prove, dude?" I asked.

 The orc narrowed his eyes. "What are you talking about? Who care where we fight?"

 "Suiren Sensei said Crescent Moon Academy respects fights, right?" I said quickly. "What do we get from fighting out here? Dirt on our uniforms? If I'm going to cream an orc and his friends, I'm going to do it in front of the entire school."

 He hesitated.

 I could see him thinking it over.

 "You're either damn sure of yourself or you're just an idiot."

 I shrugged.

 I wasn't sure either what Ryu was yet.

 He finally nodded and they turned to leave.

 "You better believe your ass isn't talking your way out of this tomorrow," he said.

 His beady eyes lingered on me, searching. He didn't look convinced. But then, after a long moment, he gave a slow nod.

 "Tomorrow, then."

 Great.

 Another problem.

 Tomorrow's problem though.

 I walked over to Shion and Azuki.

 A grin parted Azuki's lips, her voice full of awe.

 "Wow, you really are a dragon," said Azuki.

 I sighed and crouched beside Shion.

 She was still on the ground.

 Her pale, grey fingers moved with inhuman precision, carefully counting through a pile of uncooked rice.

 She placed each counted grain into a neat pile.

 Hundreds of them remained.

 She'd be counting for hours.

 "Shion," I said.

 She ignored me, continuing to count.

 "Shion!" I tried again, louder.

 She looked up stiffly.

 Her flat, waterless eyes burned with humiliation.

 "You stupid… don't you get it? I have to count these, Ryu! I- I-…"

 Her jaw clenched. "I can't stop! Even if I wanted to!"

 She let out a joyless laugh, her fangs flashing white in the moonlight.

 Then she took a breath, swallowing hard.

 "Some help I am, huh?" she muttered bitterly. "A vampire crawling in the dirt… counting rice! Like an idiot!"

 Then I understood.

 She wasn't just frustrated.

 She was ashamed.

 She'd tried to help me – only to fall victim to her own nature.

 Something she couldn't help.

 "It's okay," I tried to tell her.

 "Go to hell." She turned back to the rice. "I'm going to be here all night! I'm hungry and – I HAVE TO KNOW HOW MANY!"

 Her voice broke.

 I took a slow breath.

 "Shion, shut your eyes."

 She froze. "…What?"

 "Just shut your eyes."

 Her fingers twitched – like they didn't want to stop.

 Then, finally, she did.

 Carefully, I began to sweep up the remaining grains.

 Azuki knelt beside me and began to help.

 Her glasses slipped to the end of her nose, but she continued to sweep until we finished.

 A moment later, I told Shion to open her eyes.

 She blinked.

 Twice.

 Her hands hovered mid-air, fingers still tensed as if they wanted to keep counting.

 She stared at the empty ground.

 Then at me.

 Then at Azuki.

 Her expression was unreadable.

 Her shoulders slumped.

 She took a slow breath.

 "…They're gone?" she whispered, unbelieving.

 I nodded.

 Azuki smiled gently at the two of us.

 Shion exhaled sharply – like she'd been holding in a scream the entire time.

 Then, for the first time since we'd met – a genuine smile.