Chapter Text
It’s impossible to keep his eyes closed, let alone get the rest that he deserves. Morning classes and last minute shifts are exhausting, but he’s far too tense and angry to care about his own physical state. As long as he stays aware of what lies beyond his room, Chuuya can’t let his guard down.
Fucking humiliating. Getting one-upped by some piece of shit supernatural being bloody sucks.
Quite literally.
He turns the pillow to its cooler side, beating it a fair bit before lying back down. Chuuya imagines it to be the stranger next door, but that hardly comforts him. His gaze follows the sliver of purple moonlight through the gap of the curtains, and how it shines down onto the carpeted floor, casting shadows behind his indoor slippers. The full moon is out. A bad omen.
Hell, he’d probably let his worst enemies score a free punch at him if it means forgetting about this awful night. Chuuya couldn’t even enjoy the goddamned lamb he’d grilled for dinner. He’d kept a firm grip on his silverware as he watched Atsushi, the very same stranger—Atsushi, the vampire he’d invited in; Atsushi, his beloved cat turned monster, eat his own fill in front of him.
It was unsettling. Perhaps he’d expected him to go through his meal with both hands, tearing through the rare, unseasoned steak like a savage carnivore. But that didn’t happen. He’d almost felt bad about his own dining etiquette skills with the way Atsushi handled his knife and chopsticks.
Then he’d gotten up, taken his dishes with him, and washed them at the sink. The vampire made himself comfortable on the couch afterwards, picking up where he’d left off from the book he was reading.
He made himself scarce until nightfall. Like a shadow, he’d only begun following after him once Chuuya had his bath and was ready for bed.
That was what Shiro did.
Shiro, who was no longer Chuuya’s cat.
“Stay away,” he remembers biting back, his fists shaking as he said it, “like hell I’d let you come in. Take the couch or the floor for all I care, but not here. I don’t give a shit if you were staying in my room as a cat, but you’re not welcome. Fuck off.”
He’d wanted to project all the hurt and distress he’d felt from Atsushi’s deception into those words, if only to take back a little bit of control over the shitty situation. Atsushi simply shrugged.
“I’m not a threat, Chuuya-san.” he replied, unfazed. “I’m perfectly capable of being civil. Or you can antagonize me and continue to feel helpless for as long as I’m around. Up to you.”
“Go to hell.”
He’d shut the door at the vampire’s face, blinded by rage. How did such a beautiful, adorable cat become. . . that? The more he dwells on it, the more he wishes he’d come home a little later, that he’d never been privy to this information. Then maybe he’d still be under the delusion that Shiro was just an ordinary cat, and he’d continue to do his very best to take care of him.
They could have been happy together.
Chills coil around the back of his neck, like someone’s cool breath whispering curses into his skin. Damn it, he’s being fucking ridiculous. He lies on his back, irritated, cold and apprehensive. The bed feels too big, his blankets too rough; the silence pulsing against his ears like cymbals in an isolated space.
Screw this.
Maybe Chuuya is the one in hell.
A new day doesn’t change things.
His shirt had ridden up when he tossed around in his sleep, exposing half of his backside to the searing cold. He groggily checks the time on his phone, struggling to keep even one of his eyes open. He has an afternoon class today. Chuuya can afford to stay in for a while longer, perhaps nap for an hour or two, but he has a cat to feed and—
Memories of the previous night catch up with him then, and he groans in frustration.
Right. His cat is a vampire.
Who fucking cares if that thing gets food or not.
He pulls the covers back up, shielding himself from the frigid air.
Chuuya thinks about his next move. He could get dressed now and quickly leave his condo without seeing the damned thing, then pick up some food on the way. Yeah, why not, he mulls the idea over. It’s been a while since he’d eaten out.
Ever since he’d assumed the responsibilities of a budding pet owner, he’s hardly had time to himself, although he wouldn’t have thought twice about it then. Hah, to think Chuuya had poured his love and priorities into some creature who would only use him for his own benefits. It’s a hard lesson he has to learn and deal with, but he’s too irritated to worry about the consequences right now.
After seven stupid minutes of contemplation, he throws himself out of bed and makes his morning preparations. He pulls out some ripped jeans, a red, checkered long sleeve and one of his favourite hats from the walk-in closet. He doesn’t do much to his hair save for a few brushes to get the sleepyhead knots out, then he proceeds to brush his teeth and cleanse his face.
Chuuya doesn’t bother looking for Atsushit or whatever once he leaves the room. He takes his essentials, locks the door behind him and boards the elevator down. The ridiculous, empathetic part of him still thinks that he owes his not-cat a courteous goodbye, but he quashes it down. No way. Fuck that.
Leaving the apartment building feels so freeing. Chuuya follows through with his breakfast plan by boarding a bus towards the nearest train station, then scheduling to stop at a nearby shopping centre close to his university. It’s an hour-long trip, but as he always does on the way to classes, he can simply pass the time by texting Ryuunosuke and Tachihara.
Chuuya
Hey, you guys up to get breakfast at 10? On my way to Tanizaki Diner near uni
Ryuunosuke
I’m awake.
That sounds perfect. I will be there.
Michizou
Can’t do breakfast but late lunch yes. Free from classes after 3!
After an eventful day of practicals and catching up with his mates, Chuuya dreads the journey home. Sure, he could extend his time away by crashing at Ryuu’s place or visiting Kouyou-nee’s for a change, but imposing on others because he has a shitty vampire problem is irresponsible and bothersome. And if he did follow through with that — what would happen afterwards? He’d just never return to his place?
Chuuya isn’t scared of Atsushi. Whether he’s tied to his home or tied to his soul or whatnot, he won’t give in to such misfortune. Whatever it is.
Darkness surrounds the entrance corridor, with the only available light source coming from the small lamp he never turns off near the television. It’s exactly how he’d left the place. Before, he’d at least leave the living room light on for Shiro. He toes off his shoes and flicks on the light switch, cautiously wary. Chuuya notices nothing out of the ordinary. No bloody trails or disturbed cupboard doors; only his usual pristine kitchen and lounge.
And no vampire cat either.
Good.
Whether the parasite is hiding somewhere else or has left the place for the night (better yet, forever, but it seems unlikely), Chuuya feels the cold tremors in his skin subside. Not having to see him today would be for the best.
His eyes gloss over the untouched litter box, the empty kitty bowl he used to fill with delicious lamb and the cat tower he remembers building from scratch. Ice turns to heat and bubbling anger, the very searing loss of those moments with his beloved pet corroding the walls of his stomach. He clenches his fists and slowly treads towards his room, double locking it once he’s inside.
Chuuya lies down on top of his sheets and sighs. There’s no Shiro to hold anymore.
It would only be a lie to say he doesn’t miss him.
Saturday morning is a repeat of the previous day. With no prior plans and no energy to leave the house, Chuuya stays in bed till quarter past eleven. He can’t avoid the common living area any more than he already has, so he heads to the kitchen to brew himself a black coffee.
Still no cat.
As he looks for something light to eat, he remembers that there are some leftover lamb cuts in the freezer. Chuuya doesn’t like the idea of starving a vampire cat — it’s asking to be bitten and sucked dry. If Shir—Atsushi, is still around, then he might come out once he smells the food. Heck, Chuuya doesn’t even have to wait for him to finish eating. He just needs to make sure he eats something before doing whatever the hell he needs to do to kill time.
“Oi, vampire. If you’re still here, I made you lunch,” he calls out once he finishes his grilling. Should he cut it up in pieces to fit the kitty bowl or leave it on the plate…? “Get your food before I change my mind and throw it in the trash.” He makes a plate of toast with honey for himself.
Soon, he hears faint pawsteps on the tiles, the sound originating from the guest room. Atsushi stops metres before him and looks up, very much in cat form. He shows no sign of aggression, pride or malnourishment, only casual indifference.
“Are you gonna eat?” Chuuya has to convince himself this isn’t his cat. He may look the exact same, loveable kitty he is but this thing is a vampire, damn it. “If you’re gonna invade my home and take my food, I don’t want to see your fucking vampire form. Do that when I’m not here.”
He decides to slice the lamb pieces and dish them into the kitty bowl. Atsushi only approaches it when Chuuya says, “Go on then, don’t let it go to waste.” He lets out a huff when the cat finally chews on his first piece.
After a few quick chores around the house, Chuuya returns to a cleaned out bowl. He finds Atsushi resting by the foot of the fridge who, upon seeing Chuuya, effortlessly slinks away to another part of the condo.
He feeds Atsushi again before he goes to sleep, and at the same time the next day, then the day after that. Chuuya intends to follow the feeding routine he’d established with Shiro, the only difference now being his blatant lack of attention towards him. No baths, no excited recounts after uni classes, no play times and brushing of fur, and definitely no cuddles.
If the vampire expects more out of him, then he can fuck off somewhere else, because Chuuya refuses to dedicate more of his time to some stranger.
A long soak in the bath after work really does wonders for his body. The aches at the back of his neck and arms washes away with the warm water, though if he stays any longer he might prune up and never want to leave. It’s slowly getting colder anyway.
Chuuya exits the bathroom in his fluffy bathrobe, a towel wrapped around his red hair. He’s comfortable enough to start humming a song on his way to get changed. Tragically, that feeling of calmness is quickly snuffed out once he turns the corner and meets the steely purple-golden gaze of a vampire.
Atsushi has another book on his lap, long legs crossed and draped across Chuuya’s sofa chair. He’s stolen yet another item of clothing from Chuuya—dressed in the beige cardigan and dark skinny jeans he’d worn to university a week ago.
Exasperation and rage hits him instantaneously. “Did I not fucking tell you that I did not want to see you in your bloody vampire form when I am here? What the fuck are you doing? Why are you wearing my clothes?!”
To his credit, Atsushi doesn’t flinch once. Only chews on the bottom part of his lip as he’s scolded, his fangs poking out as he does so.
“Are you just going to sit there and fucking stare at me? Get the fuck out of my sight!”
There is nothing nearby to hurl at the vampire, and if Chuuya did have something, it wouldn’t be painful enough. His throat already feels raw from yelling. It surprises him, how every fiber of his being is condensing with all the built-up fury he has stewed on ever since he found out.
Not one to receive such rage without the last word, Atsushi dog-ears the page he’s on and closes the book. “No need to be aggressive. In my defense, you were not really here. You were in the bathroom, meow.”
That fucking… meow.
God, it sets his nerves off more than Chuuya cares to admit. He’s this close to charging towards him and wringing the vampire’s neck with his bare hands, but Atsushi continues, “I found your clothes in the laundry hamper and needed them. The rest of your outfits should be in the dryer.”
“You—”
“Put them in the wash?” Atsushi cuts off, his toothy grin a goddamn dagger on Chuuya’s side. “I know how to operate a washing machine. Worry not, they’ve been sorted into colours and tumble dried. I thought you would appreciate it.”
What. The. Fuck.
Who does this guy think he is, taking over the household chores like it’s going to lessen the inconvenience of his intrusion? Does he think Chuuya will forgive him for imposing if he plays maid? Atsushi going through his dirty clothes... Taking that extra step to sort them into colours and clothing type. Disgusting.
The vampire does chores. Fucking great.
“I can smell your anger from here. Please calm down. I only wanted to swap out my book. Excuse me.”
He doesn’t give Chuuya another moment to argue. Warm, golden rings of light surround the vampire before dissipating into puffs of smoke. In its wake, a fleet-footed cat carries a book in its mouth, streaked tail upright, pouncing in the direction of the guest room.
Chuuya is left standing where he is, unbelievably dumbfounded.
Witnessing Atsushi’s transformation from vampire to cat only solidifies how absolutely bullshit his situation currently is. This nightmare is real. Every supernatural happenstance: the existence of stray, adorable but shitty vampire cats who prey on people’s kindheartedness—and he’s unable to wake up from it. The towel in his hair has fallen out. His evening ruined, Chuuya stomps off to change into his clothes. The strains on his shoulders have returned, with a goddamn throbbing migraine to follow.
They’ve been passively dancing around each other for a fortnight. He’s a fool to think he can get used to it, that he could keep the vampire fed and sheltered without having to deal with his unwanted presence. So fucking naive. Chuuya has been pretending not to notice the cat circling around the furniture, or capitalizing the bookshelves for himself, taking his novels and his favourite shirts without permission.
He should be thankful Atsushi has made no effort to attack him. The irrational fear of sharp fangs pricking into his flesh as he loses his grip on reality clings to his psyche like poison. Then there’s the underlying threat of other vampires besides Atsushi coming and going in his home...
Chuuya cannot remain complacent. He can hear his heartbeat in his ears; the blood pulsing in his veins as he exhales, staring up at his bedroom ceiling like it’s about to cave in on him.
One of these days... Atsushi will get tired of loitering around. How effective is his substitute diet, anyway?
Chuuya has to get rid of him.
But how?