Chapter Text
“Oi, dumbass!” Kageyama’s palm connects with the back of Hinata’s head. Anyone else would be rattled, but the ginger merely hisses and slaps Kageyama’s hand away as if the offense is no more annoying than a fly buzzing too near.
“Bakageyama!” Hinata scowls, fire creeping into his eyes. “I’m going! We’re going. Don’t try to stop me.”
“It’s not a matter of stopping you,” Kageyama hisses. “I don’t want to go. I don’t want anything to do with that shitty banquet, okay?”
“But you’re leaving,” Hinata stresses. “It’s weird to leave without saying goodbye to your family, even if you don’t like them that much.”
“It’s not about liking or disliking them.” Kageyama’s ears tinge red. “I want to spend my last night in Miyagi with you—how hard is that to understand?”
Hinata cocks his head, eyes blazing and blinding in their intensity. “So this is really goodbye, huh? You know you’ll see them again, but you can’t say the same for me. You want one last memory for the road, is that it? One last night before you leave me behind?”
Bullseye. Kageyama swallows—hard. When did the dumbass get so perceptive?
Kageyama’s world lurches, and it’s only when he’s nose-to-nose with Hinata that he realizes it’s because Hinata has dragged him down to his height.
“If you want it to be just us that’s fine, but I’ll make you admit that you’re scared to leave and even more scared to say goodbye.”
Ah, that again.
Maybe Kageyama shouldn’t have played the whole ‘leaving forever after graduation and never returning’ bit quite so casually. Sure, a part of him dies in a way he’ll never truly recover from every day, but around the too bright, too loud, too magnetic Hinata, he’s played it all off like their friendship means nothing to him. At first, Hinata had been shocked, then angry, and then he’d sulked moodily, day to day, as if Kageyama had denounced their entire friendship—which he kind of had. He’d gotten over that quickly enough, though, and went right back to pestering Kageyama.
Of course, there’s no way for Hinata to know Kageyama suffers worse than he ever can. He’s not the one who’s been head over heels in love with him for the past two years. He’s not the one that’s going to stop aging at eighteen. He’s not a vampire, and he’s not about to know that Kageyama is, or how he feels .
Eventually, Hinata’s feelings of friendship toward Kageyama will fade. He’ll age. He’ll grow old, and then someday, he’ll die.
Kageyama will do none of those things, and that’s half of the reason why this needs to happen. The fledgling vampire doesn’t know how to explain to his childhood rival turned best friend turned unrequited love that he’s technically undead, drinks blood to survive, and can turn into a swarm of bats if he really, really wants to (he never wants to; it’s an embarrassingly silly power).
He also doesn’t know how he’ll watch Hinata grow old and die; so he's chosen not to. Loving him privately hurts enough already.
“Try all you want,” Kageyama scoffs. “I won’t miss this place, and I won’t regret leaving. You might not be wrong about my family, but you’re wrong about the rest. I don’t have any reason to be scared, but maybe you might.” He pushes Hinata back and sneers down at him.
He’s childish, and regret sours his stomach when he sees hurt flicker in Hinata’s eyes. He hopes he imagined it—hopes his heart is getting the better of him. He knows his decision hurts Hinata too, but he can’t accept that it might hurt just as much as it does for him. Accepting that would make leaving too hard, and the lie too shallow.
“You’ll see,” Hinata mutters, grabbing his bag and slinging it over his shoulder. Moodiness clouds his expression, but between one breath and the next, the skies open up and sunshine pours out of him. “Well, see ya later, Bakageyama! I’ll be there first.”
“No, I’ll be there first!” Kageyama shouts reflexively at Hinata’s back.
Exhaustion clings to Kageyama’s bones. Daydreams of collapsing headlong into a coffin twist through his mind, and his every step feels leaden as he trudges home. All the while, Hinata’s words coil around his ribs, dart up past his throat, and snake into his head, where they loop in unrelenting admonishment.
“I’ll make you admit that you’re scared to leave and even more scared to say goodbye.”
Kageyama’s impending departure hurts Hinata more than he can fully fathom or express. Sometimes the pain is a sudden PUM-SPAK! that leaves him breathless, and other times it’s a piercing THWIP! or an overpowering POW! The effect is all the same, though: his head aches, and it’s all Bakageyama’s fault.
It won’t be easy to get Kageyama to own up to his lie, but Hinata has never shied away from a challenge and doesn’t plan to start now. As if he’d give that asshole the satisfaction!
Of course, it would help if Hinata had proof of Kageyama’s lie—he could use that to undermine his resolution. However, all he has so far is the unshakable gut feeling that nothing has ever been more wrong. Kageyama leaving? Actually leaving? Up and moving? Never returning? Gone? The thought alone is unthinkable, but Hinata is being forced to think about it—and very hard, he might add.
He’s spent countless hours and late nights mulling over how to stop Kageyama, or find a way to tag along. Under different conditions, biking after him wouldn’t be the worst idea. Kageyama plans to leave the country, though. Biking across Japan is one thing; biking on water is… less feasible. Not necessarily impossible, but getting on a plane might be the easier option. The only issue there is that Kageyama refuses to tell him where he’s headed. And that’s a pretty big problem; Hinata’s still working on how to get around that inconvenient truth.
There is one thing he can try. A final resort. Something he’s considered but always brushed aside out of respect for Kageyama. However, the eleventh hour is upon him, and the situation is dire.
So maybe, it’s time to pay the Kageyama residence a visit, even if he’s been expressly forbidden from doing so.
…
One odd event after another results in Hinata’s arrival at the most gothic estate he’s ever seen in Japan. No, scratch that. The most gothic estate he’s ever seen, period. Hulking iron gates guard the main estate’s looming interior. Hinata’s not sure if it’s a castle he’s looking at or if it’s the scale of the ‘house’ that is throwing him off. He hasn’t felt small in years, but bouncing on his heels in front of the Kyūketsuki Clan estate, he feels like an ant. Any second, the boot shadowing him will drop, squishing him into the sidewalk with a sickening SQUELCH!
Nevermind that. Hinata has one mission, and he’s not going to chicken out now, even if his nerves have his gut gurgling.
(After creeping about Kageyama’s vacant house, he’d been able to deduce that the graduation celebration banquet was being held here—at a site of undoubtedly promised horror. How many people have died here? It’s too creepy for the number to be zero!)
Steeling himself, Hinata reaches for the gate.
“What are you doing here?”
Hinata’s bones attempt to jump clean out of his skin. Fortune favors him, and his skin holds out, but only by the slimmest of margins.
Hinata clings to his skin—it needs the reinforcement—and swings to face the drawling, arrogant voice’s source. Oh, no. Not him. Anyone but Four-eyed Jerk Face Tsukishima. What’s he doing here anyway? It’s an excellent question. So Hinata asks as much.
“Hey!” Hinata jabs a finger at Tsukishima “What are you doing here?!”
“I asked you first, idiot.”
A million retorts dart through Hinata’s mind. He contemplates the truth, rapidly assesses several lies, and ends up blurting out, “I’m here for the banquet, obviously!” Stomping for emphasis, Hinata puffs out his cheeks and glares up at Tsukishima.
“You know about that?” Tsukishima sneers down at Hinata, an eyebrow raised and lips drawn. In the waning light, Hinata thinks the boy’s canines look sharper than usual, longer too.
“Of course, I know about it! Kageyama tells me everything.”
“Really?” Tsukishima laughs. It’s an ugly sound, thick with disbelief. “I didn’t think the King had it in him.”
“You don’t know a lot about him,” Hinata growls through his teeth.
“Probably.” This time when Tsukishima laughs the sound is light and aggressively polite, sickly sweet by comparison.
Fat raindrops begin to hit the pavement, slowly at first but building quickly into a downpour.
“Well, by all means, then,” Tsukishima drawls, hooded eyes glowing. “Come in.” He pushes the towering gate open with his fingertips, as if its weight means nothing to him, and heads up the front walk. “If you’re certain you won’t regret it,” he adds in afterthought.
Tsukishima’s hushed laughter barely carries to Hinata, and it’s only after he’s chased after the taller boy, the iron gate closing behind him with foreboding finality, that he realizes Tsukishima never answered his question.
Why is their rude classmate attending Kageyama’s graduation celebration banquet? Are their families close? Are they distantly related? What connection exists between them?
And why is this the first that Hinata is learning (admittedly very little) about this?
At least once an hour (if he’s being conservative), Kageyama has a stupid, childish, pesky, annoying, mundane but oh-so heartbreaking realization that leads to self-inflicted lamentation. His current thought of the hour—that he’s never going to go on another shitty bowling not-date with Hinata; they aren’t going to fight over who gets which ball; he won’t get to laugh his ass off when Hinata accidentally releases a ball backward, sending it flying into the ball return; and he’s not going to stare at Hinata, bathed in red and blue light, as he concentrates on throwing a perfect strike ever again, all because he’s a vampire—is no different.
Several lanes over, a bubblegum pink ball rockets into neatly set pins. The clattering vibrates like thunder in Kageyama’s ears, and he scowls, shaken from his reverie. Alone and twiddling his thumbs, he’s unable to tune out his surroundings effectively, and his uncanny senses rear their ugly heads to bite him. Only Hinata’s presence is powerful enough to command his full attention, absorbing and nullifying the overwhelming sensory information around them.
At first, Kageyama had thought Hinata was simply different from his fellow humans, and that the difference was enough to captivate him beyond reason. His heart thrums louder, the sound a rich timbre, resonating like a heavy drumbeat, and his blood addles Kageyama’s mind in a way no other blood has, its bouquet smoky but sweet with florid notes. Of course, there’s no denying Hinata’s natural magnetism—Kageyama has tried, always to no avail. The human’s eyes twinkle like stars when he’s excited and freeze colder than the pits of hell when he’s challenged. He’s short in stature but behemoth in spirit—a monster among humans, despite being one himself. So after much reflection, Kageyama has been forced to reconcile with the fact that his unending obsession with Hinata has little to do with his mouth-watering blood and everything to do with the fact that he’s him. It’s a reality as true as it is simple—Hinata has Kageyama wrapped around his little finger; he just doesn’t realize it. There’s another unvarnished truth that is growing more painfully obvious by the second: Hinata is late, and it’s not like him to be late when he’d threatened to be early.
Kageyama checks his phone, then rises and scans the bowling alley. If Hinata were here, Kageyama would have sensed him by now, easily and without effort. He sharpens his senses anyway, tuning his ears and focussing his eyes, double checking, triple checking, categorizing every sound and scent in the building. Still no Hinata.
Dread sprouts in his gut, and apprehension slips over him like a sheet. Of all the reasons for Hinata to be late, there’s only one likely possibility. They had plans, after all. Kageyama is leaving soon; this is their last night to hang out before he leaves. Hinata would show up, come hell or high water, no matter what. Unless…
Kageyama hisses and hopes he’s overthinking things. There’s no way the idiot would have actually… There’s no way he’d have gone…
Who is Kageyama kidding? There is every chance that Hinata has done something stupid or is in the process of doing something stupid, and the odds that it involves Kageyama’s imminent departure and his graduation banquet are through the roof.
Kageyama tears out of the bowling alley like a bat out of hell, furious, frustrated, and fearful of the consequences of that idiot actually showing up at his clan’s banquet.
Hinata feels distinctly feverish, and he’s not sure whether to blame the sensation on his preexisting nerves or the Kyūketsuki Clan manor’s stuffy atmosphere. The air is thick and suffocating, reeking of something with a musty metallic odor, and the complete lack of natural light makes him feel woozy. He’d give anything for even a sliver of moonlight, but only the manor’s sparsely lit candelabras with their feeble, gasping flames provide a break from the gloom. Then there’s the matter of the company.
The Kyūketsuki people keep their distance, eyeing Hinata with poorly-veiled fascination. They seem to loom from the shadows with glowing eyes, or maybe it’s just their shadows that loom. Hinata isn’t sure. He is sure, however, that there is something very odd about these people. They look normal enough, a little pale maybe. Still, looks can be deceiving, he decides.
The energy in the room prickles Hinata’s skin and twists his stomach into tighter knots than his nerves have ever been capable of on their own. Perhaps his discomfort stems from how utterly out of his element he is or from his hosts’ overpowering presence that screams, Hinata Shouyou, you are an intruder here.
Belonging or fitting in are worries Hinata has never possessed. He’s always found a way to make his own space or infiltrate uninviting groups, wedging himself in until they have no choice but to accept him. This is different, though, and Hinata finds himself missing Kageyama sorely.
“Hinata-san.” A man materializes from the shadows, approaching Hinata with measured steps. Up close, it’s clear that he’s quite muscular, though his frame is less imposing than the long-haired man lurking in the corner, and his height is no match for Tsukishima’s ridiculous giraffe body. His expression is warm, his mouth pulling wide and eyes scrunching when he smiles. Thin needle-like fangs press past his lips, and Hinata shudders, wishing he had someone—preferably Kageyama—to use as a shield. “Tsukishima-kun tells me that you’re here courtesy of Kageyama-kun.”
“Y-yes!”
“Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Sawamura Daichi of the Kyūketsuki Clan. I’d like to clarify Kageyama-kun’s intentions in delivering you here. What instruction did he give you, if any?”
“He just said to show up,” Hinata blurts, cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Everything is going disastrously wrong, and now there’s a very real chance that he’s getting Kageyama in trouble. Should he know whether Kageyama is allowed to bring guests? “B-but I insisted on coming, so he shouldn’t get in trouble.”
“Is that so? I believe I understand, then.” Chuckling softly, Sawamura rubs the back of his neck. The gesture makes him seem younger, and fleetingly, Hinata is reminded of a senpai from his first year at Okaruto High. “Please make yourself comfortable, Hinata-san, and thank you for your participation in the banquet.” Sawamura offers Hinata a slight bow and then melts from sight as if he’d been a mere vision.
“Creepy,” Hinata whispers to himself.
Several sets of glowing eyes swing toward Hinata from across the room. There’s no way they heard that! Even so, Hinata vows to keep the rest of his thoughts in his head, just to be safe.
A gentle tap on his shoulder nearly sends Hinata into the next life. He doesn’t jump quite as high as when Tsukishima startled him, but his heart leaps into his throat all the same.
“Forgive me,” a young woman greets. Her voice is as silken as her shoulder-length black hair, and she’s easily the most gorgeous person Hinata’s ever seen. “Please accept this.”
She offers him a goblet, and he takes it from her with trembling hands. The realization that he’d rob a bank if she asked jolts through him. There’s nothing he’d love more than to drink the beverage she’s brought him. He’ll drink it right now! He wants to make her happy. She seems like such a nice lady. He wouldn’t want to do anything to displease her.
Hinata takes a greedy sip from the goblet. The candy red liquid within is thin, fruity, and overwhelmingly sweet. It’s some kind of punch probably, though that matters little. Without hesitation, he downs the contents and then presses the goblet back into the woman’s hands.
“Thank you,” Hinata breathes, staring at her in raptured awe.
The woman’s lips part in surprise, and she stifles a giggle behind a milk-white hand. “Would you like more?”
Hinata nods vigorously.
That idiot! If—heavy emphasis on ‘if’—he’s still alive, Kageyama might just kill him himself. Scratch that, he will kill him. Forget pining, forget the heartbreak! Hinata Shouyou is the biggest dumbass Kageyama has ever met, and he’s just gone and willingly offered himself up as dessert to a clan of vampires.
Kageyama’s house is filled with Hinata’s scent, and it doesn’t take long to track it across town to the Kyūketsuki Clan estate. What could have possibly possessed the idiot human to come here? Kageyama stews on the curb, one hand clutching the iron gate so tightly the metal groans in his fist. He’d intended to storm right in, but something gives him pause. He’d had a reason for not wanting to attend the banquet, and it wasn’t just because he wanted to see Hinata. Truthfully, he’s not interested in the old blood rituals. They’re archaic and pointless—just an excuse to spill blood.
In recent centuries, the clan has weaned itself off human livestock and moved to sharing their own blood for these special occasions. Kageyama isn’t sure which is less appealing, draining the life of some poor sap who has no clue what’s going on or drinking family blood. He’d honestly rather die of thirst than do either. So what if sharing blood deepens vampiric bonds? He doesn’t need or want to be closer to any of those leeches. He’s always been self-sufficient, and even though he can appreciate the new generation’s clan leaders, he’s still happier left to his own devices.
Despite the clan’s recent changes, they still drink human blood when the opportunity arises. And there is no doubt in Kageyama’s mind that Hinata’s sudden appearance on the day of the banquet can only be interpreted one way—as if Kageyama had hand-delivered a delicacy straight to the clan’s doorstep.
Kageyama pulls out his cell phone and tries Hinata’s number for the umpteenth time. Still no answer. Hissing through his teeth, he wrenches the gate open.
“I can’t believe Kageyama-kun never mentioned you! How long have you known each other?”
“Um, a while, actually,” Hinata laughs nervously. Dammit, Bakageyama! How little does this friendship mean to you?
Sugawara nods sympathetically and tuts. “He is like that, isn’t he? Too serious, I say. Well, enough about him. Tell us something about you!”
This man is far less intimidating than the others, and Hinata has gravitated toward him, feeling safer in his presence than alone. That’s not to say his needle-like canines don’t give Hinata pause, nor is it to say that his hazel-brown eyes don’t occasionally deepen to a rich crimson flecked with gold—a trick of the light, surely. Still, his frame is slender, and his expression is kind. There’s a gentleness in his movements that the others lack, and Hinata appreciates it greatly.
“You attended Okaruto High as well, then?” Sugawara asks.
“Yes!” This is one question that’s easily answered.
“So you’re… gifted, then?”
“I’m not a genius like Kageyama if that’s what you’re asking, but I’m pretty special in my own ways!”
“Oh, I have no doubt,” Sugawara hums, reaching out to pinch Hinata’s chin between his thumb and forefinger.
Hinata freezes like a deer in headlights. Something tells him that he shouldn’t move, shouldn’t try to brush Sugawara’s hand aside. His stomach churns. Fear crawls under his skin, but it’s mixed with another emotion that only serves to confuse him—he likes being touched by this silver-haired man. His fingers feel electric against Hinata’s chin. Sugawara tilts Hinata’s head, exposing and lengthening his neck. A harsh shiver rolls down his spine when Sugawara trails a cold finger across his pulsepoint, and his lips part reflexively.
“It was good of Kageyama-kun to bring you here,” Sugawara coos in Hinata’s ear, wrapping an arm around Hinata’s waist and hugging him into his chest.
“Oi, Suga-san. You better not be hogging him!”
“Tanaka-kun, I’d never,” Sugawara gasps in feigned shock. His grin is dazzling, but his grip on Hinata’s waist only tightens. Hinata doesn’t understand the exchange and is too preoccupied with his proximity to Sugawara and the way the man’s nails are digging into his side to care.
“Suga,” Sawamura warns. “He’s a gift from Kageyama-kun, not your new toy. Stop playing with him.”
“You too?” Sugawara whines, his grip on Hinata loosening by a hair. “Jeez. How about we ask how he feels?” He turns his attention back to Hinata, eyeing him with interest. “Hinata-san, do you mind if I drink your blood?”
“Drink my… huh?” Hinata mumbles. The words jumble in his throat. Somewhere deep in his chest, his fear multiplies, but the sensation is dulled by the overwhelming desire to agree to anything Sugawara asks of him.
“It won’t hurt, promise.”
“O-okay.”
“Perfect,” Sugawara hums, caressing Hinata’s cheek with his thumb and bringing his lips to Hinata’s throat.
Eyes sliding closed, Hinata feels himself grow limp in Sugawara’s arms. He’s almost certain that nothing has happened to him yet, but his body melts anyway. Blood? Why would anyone want his? How odd, he thinks as he drifts away.
Through the fog in his mind, he hears a familiar voice. It’s shouting. Then he feels himself being jerked through time and space until his body collides with something firm.
“What the hell were you thinking?”
“Calm down, Kageyama-kun. There’s clearly been a misunderstanding.”
“Misunderstanding? When have I ever brought a human here? You know I don’t—”
“Listen to Daichi. You need to calm down.”
“He’s my best friend, you assholes! I’m not going to let you use him as a juice box!”
“Ah, what’s that—is King upset that we found out about his plaything?”
“I don’t think now is the best time, Tsukki.”
“Shut up, Yamaguchi.”
“I think you should listen to your pet, Suckyshima.”
“What the hell are you imply—”
“Silence!”
Sawamura’s voice resonates through the manor with enough force to bring Hinata to his senses.
“Kageyama-kun, explain.”
Hinata balls his fists and finds them wedged between himself and—Kageyama’s chest? When did he arrive? Hinata stifles a groan. There’s no way he isn’t in heaps of trouble.
Hinata attempts to squirm away. He needs a distance advantage if he’s going to avoid Kageyama’s wrath. He tries to wiggle free, but Kageyama’s arms cage him; there is no escape. Worse, Kageyama ignores his efforts, glaring over his head. Hinata is so done for!
Rage radiates off Kageyama in palpable waves, and his arms wind tighter around Hinata—almost possessively but that can’t be right.
“He shouldn’t be here!” he snarls. “He doesn’t understand. He doesn’t even know.”
“Know what?” Hinata pipes up. Again, Kageyama ignores him, at least until a bony knee connects with his shin. Hissing in pain, he jerks and looks down at Hinata.
“What don’t I know?”
Kageyama gapes like a fish out of water before eventually snapping his jaw shut with a click. Nearly forgetting his question, Hinata stares openly, mouth ajar. Kageyama’s eyes aren’t the dark blue that he’s used to, nor do they pierce in the sharp way that he’s grown accustomed to over the years. Instead, he finds agitation muddled with fear swirling behind crimson irises.
“T-that I’m a v-vampire,” Kageyama stutters.
“You’re a vampire,” Hinata echoes.
“Y-yeah.”
“You are a vampire?”
“That’s what I said!”
“A vampire?”
“What aren’t you getting, dumbass Hinata?!” This time, Kageyama lets him go when Hinata pushes against his chest.
Stumbling back, Hinata grips his head. Splitting pain lances through him, and his vision blurs in one eye. He flinches sharply, then it blurs in the other, too.
“You’re a vampire, and you never told me?”
“I—”
“You were going to leave without ever telling me that?”
The words grate Hinata’s throat like sandpaper, and unbearable heat flares across his skin. When the pain becomes too great, he falls to his knees. He feels as though his body is being torn in a thousand directions. His gums ache, his bones grind, and his muscles scream. Or maybe he’s the one screaming, though he can barely breathe—he’s certain his lungs have found a way to shred themselves against his ribs.
“Hinata?”
Shock is funny, Hinata decides. It has the power to make him feel like his bones are breaking and reforming. It tears his skin and then sutures it in rough-hewn patches. It boils his blood and rapidly cools it, reducing him to a writhing lump of flesh at Kageyama’s feet. And if it weren’t for the unbearable pain of being remade by this betrayal of trust, it would probably be embarrassing—not that Hinata typically dwells over such things.
“Hinata?!”
Blurred vision blackens, and the world swims around Hinata. He sees the rooms in reds and golds. There’s a flash of blue, then silver. His body dives backward, and his head connects with stone. Heat pools at the point of contact and then spills down his spine, but as quickly as it comes, it cools again, leaving Hinata trembling as the world fades around him.
“Shouyou?!”
Ah, he really messed up this time.
The sight that meets Kageyama’s eyes is borderline unfathomable. No, it is unfathomable—outright unbelievable on all accounts. It had been bad enough to arrive seconds before Sugawara’s fangs could sink into Hinata’s neck. But this? This is different.
Hinata shoves against his chest, and Kageyama releases him. He stumbles back and grabs his head. It seems as though he’s unraveling, and guilt floods Kageyama. This was never supposed to happen! Hinata wasn’t meant to find out!
“You’re a vampire, and you never told me?” Hinata glares at Kageyama through his fingers. His brown eyes are molten, glowing like melted gold.
“I—” Kageyama opens his mouth to speak but stops when Hinata’s hand drops from his face. Long, thick canines jut past his upper lip.
“You were going to leave without ever telling me that?” his human friend growls.
Kageyama’s stomach twists, and he clutches his mouth, muffling a swear. He doesn’t get a chance to reply or defend himself. Hinata crumples to the ground with a throaty scream, and the sound of bones cracking fills the air.
“Hinata?” he gasps, finding his voice.
This is worse than any nightmare.
“Hinata?!”
Kageyama watches, frozen in horror, as Hinata swan dives backward, cracking his head on the stone floor.
“Shouyou?!”
Kageyama surges forward, but Sawamura grabs his arm and hauls him backward before he can reach Hinata. “Kageyama-kun, stop. He’s—”
“He needs me,” Kageyama insists, jerking against Sawamura’s hold.
“Kageyama-kun.” Shimizu materializes beside the pair. Her voice is even and calm despite the worry saturating her expression. “He’s clearly mid-transformation. It’s not safe to approach him in this state. Is there anything you can tell us about his background? Could this be a form of lycanthropy?”
Lycanthropy?
“He’s human.”
Hinata has always been human. That’s why things have to end the way they do. If he’s not human, then…
“Clearly not,” Sawamura grits out, twisting Kageyama’s arm behind his back and securing his wrists.
“He’s human,” Kageyama echoes dumbly, watching helplessly as Hinata’s transformation nears completion.
Shimizu isn’t wrong. Hinata is a werewolf.
He can’t be.
But he is.
This wolven Hinata scrambles to his feet. His now golden eyes are wild, and his claws dig into the floor with the ease of a hot knife gliding through butter. A low thundering growl builds in his throat, and his ears twitch before laying back, flat against his bronze fur.
“Hinata-san, can you—”
At the sound of Sawamura’s voice, Hinata’s body goes rigid and curls to lunge. He’s small for a werewolf, but he’s no less frightening. Unbridled wild energy pours out of him, and he reeks of fear and aggression. Kageyama’s nose wrinkles.
Tilting his head back, Hinata howls. The anguished sound is splitting, and all the vampires in the room clasp their hands over their ears, hissing in pain.
Then, before anyone can move to stop him, Hinata flees, crashing through a window and tearing off into the night.