by Jet Lupin
They weren’t easy to make!
They were stronger, more dangerous than humans, and technically at the top of the food chain, but something kept them from taking over outright, and it wasn’t the sun.
“Making new vampires is a long process. There’s the exchange of blood, and all this. You’ve seen it in the movies. The whole thing leaves both the new vampire and their creator vulnerable for several days afterward, so most don’t bother. And for the ones who do grit it out, after all the trouble, it might not take. If I remember right, only one in fifty or one-hundred works. Shige has been extraordinarily lucky with his choices of children.”
“What happens if it fails?”
“The human doesn’t survive.”
That seemed obvious, but it was good to have it confirmed. The changes a human body must go through to have to be able to exist on blood, the sensitivity to light—it couldn’t be an easy process. The death of a failed vampire was not painless. Phil shivered at the thought. Not a good way to go.
Phil let this new information sit in his mind before he tried to move to the next step. “OK, so low ‘vampire birthrates.’ Where does the blood come in? I mean… You know what I mean.”
“Being of vampire blood,” Chiyo pushed up to stand. Raising her hands over her head, she stretched. They had been sitting awhile. Phil’s ass was going numb. “It means that there’s some trait, some marker that you have in common with a successfully made vampire somewhere.” The silence that came after was unnatural. She was holding back. Why now?
“What else, Chiyo?”
“We call it being of vampire blood because, more than likely, you have a vampire relative, distant though they may be. And the working theory is, if someone tried to change you, they’d probably be successful.”
“That…” Phil puffed out a sigh, ran a hand over his hair. “How does anyone know that’s possible?”
“I’m not a doctor. I’m only telling you what was told to me.”
“Then how do you know it’s true?” It could be true, but Phil’s brain rejected it outright. It was such a small thing to share with someone, a few similar genes or alleles, but this information felt wrong. It was too much to process.
But… he was being a dick.
He’d all but called her a liar. He couldn’t believe it, but he didn’t have to go that far. Chiyo seemed unbothered as she started on the first potato, peeling back the skin. That didn’t excuse his behavior, however.
“I’m sorry if I offended you.” He stood and bowed. “Sumimasen!”
The sound of Chiyo chuckling made Phil raise his head. “You do too much. I’m not offended. It’s your right to doubt. I’m a stranger to you. I could be telling you anything. I’d offer to let you check me for lies, but you’d have no way of knowing if I’m being honest or if I’m manipulating you. Yet.” She offered Phil the other potato that she’d rolled away from the flames. He declined.
“I’ll tell you something you can confirm here, today. And by the end of our training, when you can tell if I’m lying to you, I’ll give you the rest. Bear in mind, you might not like what I have to say. Deal?”
What could Phil say? He was too invested to say no. Every single thing she told him could be part of a larger tale.
“How can I confirm it?”
Chiyo held up a finger while she finished the last bite of her potato. She cast the empty skin into the fire.
“The final thing you need to make a sensitive is, when you’re on the brink of death, a vampire saves your life by sharing their blood with you. Not enough to turn you, just a drop or two. It’s powerful stuff.”
Phil’s ordeal with Pampa had left him unconscious. Shige woke him by giving him blood, but he’d had this problem long before that. He would have known if he’d almost died before then, wouldn’t he?
“This is all very hard to swallow.”
“I said you wouldn’t like it. Next you’ll say, how do you know it’s true, ne?” She smiled at him, and Phil thought he sensed pity coming from her, if only a fraction. It was the first time he’d gotten anything from her at all.
“I know this because my vampire relative saved me when I was dying. He set me up here. You think Shige goes around taking care of elderly strangers out of the kindness of his heart?”
This was what she’d meant by being able to confirm it. As soon as the sun was down, Phil would ask the man himself.
“Now that we’ve settled that, it’s time to start your training.” Chiyo stood and rolled up her sleeves. “Don’t expect me to go easy on you. We’ve got to make up for all that time we spent trading questions.”
Phil was more distracted than ever. That whole session had been a mistake. But he had to make do with the cards he was dealt.
Chapter 6
SHIGE
Shige found Phil and Chiyo in the dining room after sundown, but he didn’t know what to make of them.
They were sharing a meal where neither said a word or made eye contact with the other. The scent of soap was heavy on Phil, but a piece of a leaf clung to his hair, waving in the air current. They were both listless and zoned out. So much so, that he stood next to their table for a full minute without being noticed.
Perhaps communicating was the problem. Kaoru was nowhere in sight. Shige had explicitly instructed him to stay with them.
No matter. He’d correct it now.
He filled his lungs to bellow for Kaoru when Chiyo finally looked over at him.
“I sent him away,” she informed him in their native tongue. “We didn’t need him.”
Shige feared the worst—a clash of personalities, but if Chiyo hadn’t wanted to teach Phil, why sit together?
“You’re going to have to explain why that is since you don’t speak much English and his Japanese is… new.”
Chiyo chuckled and finished up her soup. “You think every visitor you sent spoke Japanese? There are ways to communicate beyond words.” She set her chopsticks down and gave thanks for the food. “I’ll let him fill you in on how the day went. You have much to talk about, I think.”
Shige narrowed his eyes at her retreating back. “What did you say to him? Girl!”
Chiyo shuffled out of the room, cupping a hand to her ear. She pretended to listen for him, and then continued on her merry way. She was older now, but her ears worked fine. Shige wished he could misbehave too and blame it on his age.
He slid her empty tray aside and took the newly vacant seat. “You’re upset about something.” Shige had hoped their bath together had mended some of the ill-ease between them. The memory of being wrapped in Phil’s embrace, the warmth of the water washing over him. Shige wanted that again before he left. He shoved the inappropriate thoughts back.
Focus.
Phil looked up at him, his eyes ringed by darkness, tired. Listless. “I’m… processing.”
“Processing what sorts of things?” Shige had to go about this gently. He didn’t know what seeds Chiyo might have sown, but he wouldn’t let it ruin this long sought-after peace.
Phil took a breath. He clenched his hands on the table top.
“Chiyo and I… we talked a lot. She told me where sensitives come from, where she came from. She said you saved her life.”
That wasn’t the worst thing she could have said. “I did. Did you she tell you how?”
Phil shook his head. “She said to ask you.”
What was there to tell that she couldn’t do herself? This felt like a set up. But if his options were to walk right into it or lie, it wasn’t any choice at all.
“At the end of the second World War when America dropped the bombs. Chiyo lived well away from the affected areas, but her family didn’t. She came home to look for them. They weren’t in Hiroshima proper, but they were close enough.”
“What happened? And… how did you even know where to find her? Don’t try to tell me it was a coincidence.”
Though he still held some things back from Phil for now, Shige had learned his les
son where half-truths were concerned. But finding Chiyo had, at least in part, been a coincidence.
“I saw this war coming from a long way off. No matter the era, Americans are predictable in their prejudices. I took my children and left before they opened the camps and came back here. It was hard, watching my country be destroyed from the inside as well as the outside.”
“What do you mean?”
“That stubbornness and refusal to back down, that yamato-damashii cost so much. So much suffering and death could have been avoided if they’d stopped to look at what they were doing. But that’s in any war. I’m getting off topic.
“We were here for years without much to do…” No more half-truths. Honesty. “I looked up my family to see what became of them. My old town and the one my family moved to later are relatively close by. There were a few descendants still in the area, but even more branched off to dozens of cities hundreds of miles away. I tracked everyone to dead ends. People died, enlisted, or moved too far for me to follow easily. But I found Chiyo living on her own in Osaka. A woman on her own was unheard of at the time, so she dressed and presented herself as a young man. Such a clever ruse. No one ever seemed to catch on unless she wanted them to. She intrigued me, so I watched her.” He gritted his teeth against his hypocrisy. He was no better than Soldana.
“I was content with that, watching, without interfering. Then the bombs dropped, and she lost everything, her brothers to the fighting, the bombs taking away the rest. Mother, father, her two younger sisters lost in the aftermath in Hiroshima. Not enough unpolluted water or food to go around, desperate people doing desperate things. By the time she arrived, the handful of relatives that lived here were too impoverished to help her. She should have gone back to Osaka, but she stayed, the poison of that place dragging her down until…” If she hadn’t wanted Phil to hear this part, she should have told the story herself.
“She gave into her despair and tried to kill herself.” Shige stopped there. Phil didn’t need the details of what he’d found when he pushed open the door to her rented room. That Shige alone carried the memory of that grisly find was more than enough. “She was so clever and so smart.” And her eyes looked so much like his brother Masahiko’s. “I couldn’t stand by and watch my line end.”
“You don’t have to explain that part to me.” A slow smiled lifted Phil’s mouth at the corner, but the effect only made him appear more tired. “That was a very human thing you did, and I get it, even if you don’t.”
That had been more than sixty years ago now. No matter how he denied it, that bit of compassion, that softness was there long after it should have died. It withered over the years, but meeting Phil had breathed new life into that part of him—into all of him.
Phil’s gaze dropped to his hands, his forehead creased and lips pursed tight.
“What is it?” That wasn’t a contemplative silence. It was weighted, pained.
“You saved her, with your blood, right? Like how you saved me after Pampa. That means someone did that to me? I almost died when I was too small to remember.”
Shige wasn’t familiar with the theories on the process and could only confirm what had happened with Chiyo. She recovered from her injuries quickly, and soon after she started hearing voices. She cloistered herself away, unable to work or socialize. Only then did Shige reveal himself to her.
In the years that followed, Chiyo tamed her power. She requested meetings with any other sensitive Shige came across. He never asked what took place, but he had a clearer idea now. Research, making herself an expert on the subject. If she said it, it was likely true.
“I’m not sure. Maybe. Does it matter?”
Phil’s face twisted, his mouth angry and downturned. “If what Chiyo said is true, and I almost died, you’d think I’d have heard about it. My mom never told me anything like that. No hint of an illness or anything. Nothing.
“But why does it matter?” Shige reached across the table for Phil’s hands and tugged to make sure he had his attention. “It happened. It’s done. Someone didn’t want to see you end too early. That’s why you’re able to be here, alive and well.” He gave Phil’s hands a squeeze.
Phil shook his head, each slow swing speaking of his fatigue. “You say that, but it’s not so easy. Can you imagine never knowing who made you a vampire?”
“I have,” Shige said. “I would be better off.”
Phil’s jaw bobbed with unuttered words. Too many questions ran through his head to pick just one.
There was a lot Shige hadn’t told Phil about himself, not because of a lack of trust, but because he preferred not to think about those topics. He held himself still, like a hunted deer. If he didn’t draw more attention to the subject of his maker any more than he already had, there was a chance the lid on this box of horrors remained closed.
“Some things,” Shige spoke slow, “Aren’t as bad as they seem on the surface. Somethings are worse. But if you can’t move on from this, there is someone you can ask. Once we get home, I’ll introduce you to them.”
Phil took back a hand and leaned his chin on it, weariness settling around his eyes again. The other he left in Shige’s grasp.
“How do you always have the information I need, and then hide it behind some sort of pay wall?” His tone was lighter than his words implied, but the whole phrase was rooted in annoyance.
“It’s a coincidence. And this isn’t a… pay wall. There’s nothing I want from you. I don’t want this distracting you from what you’re here to do.”
“And this isn’t going to be distracting?” Phil gave a dry laugh. “It’s going to be all I can think about now.”
A good point.
“Well, think of it as a goal to work towards.”
Phil rolled his eyes. Even Shige had to admit that explanation was weak.
“That’s terrible,” he said. “But you’re lucky I like you and that I’m too tired to argue the point.” He reached across the table and brushed a lock of hair back from Shige’s forehead. Then he turned his hands and cupped Shige’s cheek. The touch was so startling, so familiar. But part of Shige felt fulfilled. He leaned into it. He was only going to Tokyo for three to four days, but that distance was going to be so much harder now.
“Are you going to be OK by yourself?”
“Jonquil’s here. I won’t be so alone.”
Oh, right. Him. Shige hadn’t forgotten him, exactly, but his existence was far from a primary concern. Even when he wasn’t being punished, his company left much to be desired. But he wasn’t here for company, he was here for protection. Shige trusted him to seek out and neutralize external threats, but would he realize one coming from inside the house?
These fresh second thoughts were about more than Shige’s need to keep Phil close. Kaoru had become an unknown element. By now, he had to have realized that Phil was more than a mere guest. There was only so much Shige could control when he was absent. “I can try to reschedule my meeting until you’re done. Or you could come with me? I’m sure Chiyo won’t mind.”
Phil’s nod was automatic. “I’ll be alright. I’ve got my job to do here, and you’ve got yours. I can handle Kaoru. He’s not the first catty bitch I’ve had to deal with. I even dated one, remember?”
Shige had met a handful of sensitives in his time, but he’d never been so intimately familiar with one. Chiyo never spoke on anything she’d learned from his mind directly. He’d have to get used to having thoughts snatched directly out of his head.
Phil went off to their room to relax before bed. Shige wanted to join him, but he had more visits to make before that happened.
He wandered the house in search of Chiyo. The dayshift yokai were retiring for the night, and the nocturnal yokai were taking over. They cleaned and prepped for the next day, which only took a few hours, then they had the rest of the night to themselves. Abby said it was a very efficient system. High praise coming from her.
He found Chiyo in a room around the corner from the one he sh
ared with Phil. She was propped up next to a bookshelf, a pair of reading glasses sitting low on the bridge of her nose. A book lay open across her lap. Manga, from the look of it. She looked up from her book when Shige announced his presence by stepping on a creaky board. The glasses gave her an owlish look.
More owlish than normal.
“I had started to think I’d never see you again, Shige-sama.”
He leaned in the doorway, arms folded over his chest. “Don’t get formal on me now. I’m just your distant relative.”
“But calling you Shige-ojiisan doesn’t feel right. I’m sure anyone who heard me would think I’m senile.”
“Then it’s good there’s no one here who doesn’t know our situation. And if there was, their opinion wouldn’t matter anyway. You’re still as sharp as the last time I saw you.”
She chuckled as she folded her glasses. She shut the book and returned it to the shelf. “I never knew you were such a flatterer.”
Talking to her was so natural. They should have done so more over the years. She was so thin now, her hands creased with fine wrinkles. She’d been just out of her youth when he’d seen her last. Time hadn’t diminished the fire in her eyes.
“I shouldn’t have stayed away for so long. I’d already done so much to you. I made you this way. I didn’t want to risk doing more harm.”
She chuckled at him, giving her head a shake. “Having this power is better than being dead. You gave me a second chance. I adapted to it and all these creatures you left with me for company. It’s not an inconvenience being here. Their minds are quiet most of the time. Better than being in a big city. I would have gotten used to you. But I assumed you had your reasons. Though, I wouldn’t have minded seeing you every once in a while, not that Abby wasn’t good company.” She reached for him, and he closed the distance, taking her small hands in his. “You’ve given me so much here. Why would I hold a grudge against you for that?”
He didn’t understand how she didn’t resent him. He’d changed her forever and hadn’t given her a choice. Unlike Phil, she hadn’t been a child. She’d chosen what she wanted to do with her life, but Shige thought he knew better. Then again, she had been free to try to end it again. As far as Shige knew, she never had. That had to count for something.