Chapter Text
Sasaki had learned a long time ago that there was no such thing as keeping someone.
He had tried once.
Then twice.
After the third time, he stopped counting
People were strange creatures. They spent their entire lives chasing things they could never keep—money, youth, beauty, love, even time itself.
The vampire understood that last one better than anyone.
He had too much of it.
Far too much.
He stood alone on the rooftop of an old apartment building, looking down at the city beneath him.
Thousands of tiny lights filled the streets. Cars moved like glowing insects between buildings, and people hurried along the sidewalks beneath umbrellas.
To everyone else, the city was alive.
To him, it was a clock.
Every person below had a countdown attached to them.
Some had decades left.
Some had years.
Some only had days.
He couldn't see the exact moment they would die, but he could see the passage of time in a way humans couldn't.
A young woman walking beside her boyfriend would eventually become an old woman walking with a cane.
The little boy chasing a ball across the sidewalk would eventually become an old man.
The couple laughing outside the restaurant would eventually sit alone at separate graves.
He had seen it all before.
Again.
And again.
And again.
Sometimes he wondered if immortality was really a gift.
He had watched entire families appear and vanish.
He had watched buildings get torn down and replaced.
He had watched roads that once didn't exist become crowded with people.
He had watched languages change.
Wars begin.
Wars end.
Kings die.
Countries change their names.
And through all of it, he remained.
Exactly the same.
Everyone else was moving forward.
He was standing still.
He looked away from the city.
He should have left.
There was nothing here for him.
Nothing ever was.
Then he noticed someone sitting beneath the awning of a closed little bookstore across the street.
A boy.
He looked young.
He had Soft ash-brown hair that fell in gentle, fluffy layers. Wispy bangs frame the face and lightly brush the eyes, while slightly tousled strands around the ears and nape gave it a gentle, approachable, and subtly androgynous appearance.
Not a child—probably around the vampire's apparent age—but noticeably smaller than most of the people passing by.
He was staring miserably at the rain.
He held Beside him a paper bag.
The bottom had completely fallen out.
A few books were scattered across the wet pavement.
The boy stared at them.
Then he looked up at the sky annoyed.
Sasaki almost smiled.
Almost.
The boy reluctantly stepped into the rain and began picking up the books.
One.
Two.
Three.
He wiped the covers with the sleeve of his sweater, even though they were already soaked.
Then he picked up the last book.
The cover had been ruined.
He stared at it for a moment.
His shoulders dropped, he looked really sad.
Sasaki watched him red eyes glowing in the rain.
He didn't know why.
He had watched thousands of people have bad days.
He had seen people cry in the streets.
He had seen people lose their homes, their families, their entire lives.
This should have been meaningless.
A stranger. A fleeting moment.
Something that would disappear as quickly as everything else.
Yet he couldn't stop looking.
The boy suddenly laughed.
It was quiet.
A little embarrassed.
As though he found his own misery ridiculous.
And something inside the vampire shifted.
The city seemed quieter.
The rain seemed slower.
For the first time in a very long time, he wasn't thinking about the future.
He wasn't thinking about death.
He wasn't thinking about how quickly the boy would grow old.
He was simply looking at him.
Sasaki's fingers tightened around the edge of the rooftop.
Why him?
He didn't know.
He stayed there until the boy gathered his things and started walking home.
The vampire watched him disappear around the corner.
And then—
nothing.
The feeling was gone.
The city became unbearably loud again.
Cars. Rain. Voices. Footsteps.
Sasaki stared at the empty street.
He should have forgotten the boy immediately.
That was what always happened.
Everyone became a memory eventually.
But for some reason, he could still remember the boy's face perfectly.
The way his wet hair fell into his eyes.
The little crease between his eyebrows when he was annoyed.
The sound of his laugh.
Sasaki closed his eyes.
He had lived long enough to know where this could lead.
Attachment was dangerous.
Attachment meant watching someone disappear.
He had promised himself centuries ago that he would never make that mistake again.
So why, three nights later, was he standing outside the same bookstore?
He didn't have an answer.
He told himself it was coincidence.
The next night, he told himself the same thing.
And the night after that.
Until eventually, the boy appeared again.
This time, he wasn't carrying books.
He was holding a cup of hot chocolate with both hands, standing underneath the bookstore's awning while waiting for the rain to stop.
The vampire watched from across the street a white plastic bag with blood bags in it, for his so called pet bat.
The boy suddenly glanced toward him.
Their eyes met.
Sasaki froze.
The boy tilted his head.
Then, unexpectedly, he smiled.
"Hi"
Sasaki looked behind himself.
There was nobody there.
He pointed at himself.
"Me?"
The boy laughed.
"Yes You"
For some reason, Sasaki's heart—something that had felt almost useless for centuries—seemed to remember how to beat.
Sasaki hadn't expected the boy to speak to him.
People usually didn't.
Not because he was frightening.
At least, he didn't think he was.
He had simply perfected the art of being unnoticed.
After centuries of living among humans, he'd learned how to stand in a crowd without becoming part of it. How to walk through a city without remembering anyone's face. How to leave before people could become curious about him.
But this boy had noticed him.
And now he was smiling. "Are you going to keep staring at me from over there?"
Sasaki blinked. "I wasn't staring."
"You definitely were."
"I was looking."
"That's basically the same thing."
The boy took another sip of his hot chocolate.
Sasaki couldn't help noticing how warm the cup looked between his hands.
Humans were always doing things like that.
Holding warm drinks.
Complaining about cold weather.
Getting tired. Getting hungry. Sleeping Getting older.
He suddenly wondered what this boy would look like in fifty years.
The thought made something uncomfortable twist inside him.
He pushed it away.
"Why are you here?" the boy asked.
Sasaki glanced at the bookstore. "I could ask you the same thing."
"I work here."
Sasaki looked at the closed bookstore. "At this hour?"
The boy glanced at the sign. "Oh." He laughed awkwardly. "I forgot I was supposed to lock up."
Sasaki stared at him. "You forgot?"
"Yeah."
"You work here and forgot to lock the door?"
"Unfortunately."
Sasaki almost smiled again.
The boy seemed to notice.
"Was that a smile?"
"No."
"It was."
"It wasn't."
"You smiled."
"I didn't."
The boy grinned. "You're weird."
Sasaki raised an eyebrow. "You don't even know me."
"Exactly. And you're already weird."
For some reason, Sasaki didn't mind.
He should have.
He normally hated unnecessary conversation.
Yet he found himself staying.
The rain continued falling around them.
Eventually, the boy held out his hand.
"I'm Miyano."
Sasaki stared at it.
A simple gesture. Something humans did without thinking.
Introductions.
Names.
Connections.
Things that eventually became memories.
He hesitated before taking his hand.
The boy's palm was warm.
Far warmer than his own.
The difference startled him.
Miyano didn't seem to notice. "And you?"
Sasaki realized he hadn't answered.
"...Sasaki."
"Sasaki." Miyano repeated the name as though testing how it sounded.
"Nice to meet you."
Sasaki looked at him.
It had been a long time since anyone had said those words to him and actually meant them.
"Nice to meet you too."
Miyano smiled.
For some reason, that smile stayed with Sasaki long after they parted.
---
The next evening, Sasaki returned.
He told himself it was because he happened to be nearby.
The evening after that, he returned again.
Then again.
Soon, he knew Miyano's schedule.
Not intentionally.
At least, that's what he told himself.
Mya arrived at the bookstore at six.
He took his break at eight.
He usually bought something from the café across the street.
On rainy days, he forgot his umbrella.
On cold days, he wore the same oversized sweater.
And whenever he was tired, he hummed quietly while organizing the shelves.
Sasaki began noticing things he had never bothered noticing about people before.
Miyano always put books back slightly crooked.
He hated sweet things.
He liked BL manga.
He laughed whenever he was nervous.
And whenever someone complimented him, his ears turned red.
Sasaki found himself looking forward to it.
He would sit across the street where Miyano couldn't see him and simply watch.
Sometimes Miyano would glance outside.
Whenever their eyes met, he would wave.
Sasaki would pretend he hadn't been watching.
It became their little routine.
Neither of them acknowledged it.
Until one evening, Miyano walked outside carrying two cups.
He crossed the street.
Sasaki looked up.
Miyano held one cup toward him.
"Here."
Sasaki stared at it.
"What is it?"
"Hot chocolate, it might not be sweet tho.."
"I don't drink it."
Miyano frowned.
"You've never had hot chocolate?"
"Not that I remember."
"That's actually kind of sad."
Sasaki stared at him.
Miyano pushed the cup closer.
"Try it."
"I don't need to."
"Pleaseeeee."
Sasaki sighed.
He took the cup.
Their fingers brushed.
Again, that warmth.
It was becoming strangely familiar.
He lifted the drink to his lips.
The bitter taste was almost overwhelming.
He swallowed.
Miyano watched him expectantly.
"Well?"
Sasaki considered lying.
"...It's good."
Miyano smiled triumphantly. "See?"
Sasaki looked at him.
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then Miyano sat beside him.
Their shoulders almost touched.
Sasaki stared straight ahead.
He could hear Miyano's heartbeat.
Slow.
Steady.
Alive.
It was a sound Sasaki hadn't paid attention to in centuries.
Now he couldn't stop hearing it.
Thump.
Thump.
Thump.
He wondered what it would sound like if he put his ear against Miyano's chest.
The thought came so suddenly that Sasaki immediately pushed it away.
He took another sip of hot chocolate.
Miyano looked at him.
"You know, you're really quiet."
"I've been told."
"Do you ever talk?"
"Sometimes."
Miyano laughed. "You're funny."
"I'm not trying to be."
"I know."
They sat together beneath the streetlight.
For once, Sasaki didn't feel like time was moving too quickly.
And that frightened him more than anything.
Because he knew exactly what happened when an immortal began to care about something.
Eventually—
time took it away.
And Sasaki had already lost too many things.
He didn't think he could survive losing Miyano.
Not this time.