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Tucked into a wild forest of bamboo and wildlife was a quaint little village full of survivors.
This place was meant to be a safe haven, even if it was surrounded by hidden dangers within the overgrowth. There were survivors of many things here. Be it illness, or monster attacks, or even self inflicted perils, somehow the survivors were always drawn here and never left. Why would they? It was beautiful here, and just so calm.
Usually.
As the sun cast rays between dappled shadows, a lone survivor walked down the dirt path through the village, his hat tilted downwards to obscure his face. He'd been in many villages like this one, things that called themselves safe havens that got torn down within the year. He treated this one like just another town, just another place to restock whatever he needed.
As the man walked, a quiet voice seemed to follow him, drifting from the palm of his left hand.
“Oh, wow. D, I think that lady was lookin’ at your ass.”
“Mm,” D hummed in response, not entirely caring. A few passing looks from onlookers was nothing new to him. In fact, he'd been complimented on his appearance numerous times, by friends and foes alike. Though perhaps that was just part of the allure of a monster meant to charm.
“Like, she was honed in, man,” D's left hand continued with a little chuckle. “Wild.”
D was pretty sure his little parasite was lying to get some conversation out of him. It wasn't unlike it to jive and jab whenever it was bored. Usually D just had to slap his hand against something and it shuts up for a little while.
A cart rumbled past him, pulled by a sleepy looking mule. The man driving the cart gave him a curious look, but strangely enough, no passing heckle was tossed his way. The parasite certainly took notice of it, mumbling to D once more.
“Is it just me, or are these people way nicer than the other ones we've met?”
D lifted his head slightly, the light just barely catching on the honeyed hues of his brown eyes. It was true, he hadn't yet gotten any sort of threats. Maybe it just wasn't obvious to these people what he was, or maybe they simply didn't care. That was an odd thought to D, who had grown almost comfortable with the occasional punch or verbal tirade.
“Isn't that a good thing?” He mused, glancing down at the face in his palm as he walked.
“I guess, yeah,” the parasite sighed. “It's just weird.”
At times it certainly felt that kindness had been forgotten among the Frontier, but D knew there were some people out there who hadn't forgotten those withered roots. Either way, he wasn't complaining. If he could smoothly get what he needed and get out without a hitch, then the sooner he could get back on the road and head eastward.
He let his hand fall back to his side, the parasite's face once again smoothly sinking back into the skin. Luckily, nobody had noticed his conversation with the parasite. Or, if they had, nobody said anything to him.
He eyed a shop up ahead. Kuki's General Goods , according to the sign. He tilted his hat back with his thumb as he approached, boots making indents in the dirt road.
He reached for the door handle.
“HWAAAUGH— !!!”
D was thoroughly startled by the yell behind him. He turned around just in time to witness a man tumbling down from the next building’s rooftop, rather comically spiraling through the air and crashing right down into a fruit stall, tearing through the roof and smashing whatever poor fruits were laid out for sale.
The man winced, rubbing at his head. He was a rather thin looking sort, a scraggly sort of man. His red hair loose from its ponytail, fingertips slightly blackened with ink of some sort. D kept staring from afar, frozen in place as he witnessed the man try to sit up.
The owner of the fruit stall was staring at him with a stuck open mouth, partially covered in the juice of his poor apples and oranges. The fallen man looked at him, looked down, and then did a double take, his squinted eyes widening for a moment.
People were staring. Numerous people.
And then, the man offered a shy grin. One of his canines was poking past his lip. “Okay, so, if you just give me a week or two, I can pay you back…”
The stall owner's expression suddenly twisted into that of a rage D had only seen on angry father's faces. The man bellowed out a single name, presumably the poor criminals.
“Yakumo you little— !!!”
Yakumo suddenly sprang upwards with a yelp, beginning to scamper away from the ruined stand. D was still slightly disoriented from watching the whole thing happen, and then, holy shit, it hit him – this man just ruined someone else's property and ran. And, well… he was already here.
So, abandoning his plan to resupply and immediately leave, D left the shop behind to race after the fleeing Yakumo, his cape fluttering behind him at the sheer speed he was running at. He opened his mouth in a cry, “hey, stop! Get back here!”
Yakumo glanced over his shoulder at D and squeaked like a strangled mouse. He then turned back forward and put on yet another burst of speed.
D had to give him credit, Yakumo was surprisingly fast. He was slightly tilted forward when he ran, which allowed him both a greater speed and a greater distance. His steps were surprisingly light, to the point where he barely left prints in the dirt. It was a curiosity that was not lost on D.
Though Yakumo was fast, D was just as fast. If not, a little faster.
D was slowly gaining ground, dead set on catching the fleeing criminal. Yakumo was aware of this, and was also extremely aware that he was quickly running out of his straight stretch of road to dash across. He knew the upcoming turn would slow him down enough for D to catch him.
And oh, God, D was lunging forth, hand outstretched.
So Yakumo suddenly turned around on his heel, and hopped over D with a loud “whoop!”
D was slightly dumbfounded, as he hadn't expected the sudden change in direction, and the fact that he was jumped over like a damn log . He glanced back just in time to see Yakumo land on his feet, barking out a laugh as he began to sprint once more.
However, he didn't get far. D turned fast, leaping forward and grasping Yakumo by the sleeve of his haori. “You stop that, bastard!”
Yakumo squealed in fright, and thus decided that the haori wasn't worth it.
In a last ditch attempt to escape, Yakumo just… slipped out of the haori and stumbled forward. He hadn't been wearing a shirt or anything beneath it, the only half-assed form of a shirt he had were some bandages wrapped around his chest. Either way, he was on the move again, now without anything loose and grabbable on his person.
D cursed as he held the haori, once again continuing his sprint after Yakumo. What was this guy's deal?
Yakumo wasn't going the straight way anymore. Instead, he dove into an alleyway, aiming to go the back roads. D was hot on his trail, blending perfectly with the thicker shadows that clung to the old wood of the buildings. Yakumo did a skip, a hop, and then a jump over an old fence, generating some pretty impressive air. D hopped over the fence without a hitch.
It was obvious Yakumo was growing tired, as he was now trying to lose D through the winding alleys and maze-like paths. For someone so thin, he seemed quite spry, hopping about and clamoring over things like a jungle gym.
At some point, Yakumo even shouted at D. “Holy shit, how are you not tired yet!? Leave me alone!”
D didn't answer.
Yakumo kept running, seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. Literally, he was coming up on the exit of this maze of back roads, he could hear the people bustling through the street market in the distance. If he could get there, he could blend into the crowd and lose his pursuer. It was a foolproof pla–
D grabbed him by the back of his pants, and Yakumo screamed.
In one quick yank, D had him above the ground, holding him like he was some sort of prize from a claw machine. Yakumo hung there pitifully, his legs pulled in and his arms tucked against his chest, staring up at D with a nervous smile.
D stared back at him flatly. “Explain yourself.”
“Pardon?” Yakumo squeaked.
“Explain yourself,” D repeated with a growl to his tone. “You wrecked a man's fruit stall and ran. Tell me why.”
Yakumo opened his mouth, and then abruptly closed it again. He tilted his head, and with a shrug of his shoulders, gave D a nervous little chuckle.
“Oh, no no, that was an accident , you see! I was doing some work on the roof next door, and I had a rather nasty fall…”
“That doesn't explain why you ran off,” D continued. The lack of blinking on his part made Yakumo deeply uncomfortable. “And, given that man's reaction, you seem like a repeat offender.”
Yakumo visibly deflated. He wrung his hands together like a nasty little fly, chewing at his bottom lip. That canine tooth of his was digging in rather harshly.
“Okay, okay, maybe I messed up,” Yakumo wheezed, his ankles crossing. “But I swear, if I'm just given a little bit of time, I can scrape up enough money to pay it back…”
D frowned down at him.
He slowly put Yakumo back down, a bit unsure if he'd run or not. Thankfully, he didn't, standing upright and still wringing his hands together. D eyed the way his fingers faded into blackness. Upon closer inspection, he wasn't sure if that was ink or not. There were numerous things that it could've been.
In a moment of quiet, he handed the haori back to Yakumo, who stared down at it with slightly wide eyes. He took it back and slipped it on once more, saving his shoulders from the chill.
“Do you not have a steady income of your own?” D suddenly asked, breaking the quiet.
Yakumo looked even more sheepish at this point, like some kind of wet dog. He placed a hand against the back of his neck, chuckling softly. “No, no, I do! I do, I swear. It's just, well, it's not really enough to sustain myself, y'know? You probably get it.”
D stared at him.
He had that look on his face, the look of absolutely nothing. It was always so hard to read what D was thinking or feeling. If he was even feeling anything at all. He looked Yakumo up and down, and Yakumo fought the urge to wrap himself up in his haori.
Suddenly, D clicked his tongue, and began to turn away. Though, as he did, he raised his hand and began beckoning with a clawed finger.
“Come with me.”
Yakumo gulped. He felt like he shouldn't try and weasel his way around this man. He wasn't unaware of the sword on D's hip or the inhuman details of his face.
So, Yakumo followed with a bit of a glumness surrounding him. D led him through the streets once more, and people were taking notice. What a scene it was, the notorious Yakumo being led around by a stranger from afar. In fact, a few found it a little bit funny, pointing and giggling with each other. Yakumo was halfway tempted to cover his head and hide his identity.
D was leading him towards where a crowd had gathered. It was back to the fruit stall, which now was being cleaned up by numerous people, attempting to get fixed. The stall owner was speaking with a man in ancient looking armor, furs tied around the guards shoulders. Probably a higher ranking officer.
The officer glanced upwards at the approaching pair, and with a strange quirk of his brow, pointed. “Say, isn't that the guy you were talking about?”
The stall owner turned his head and gasped. “Yeah, that's him! Yakumo!”
Yakumo paled at seeing the two, freezing where he stood. But D pressed his hand to his back and gently guided him forward, walking up to the scene with a straight face. The officer moved to meet them both in the middle, moving to pull out a pen and a notepad.
“And who are you, sir?” The officer asked, already making notes. “I have to write down a detailed report.”
“No need,” D said with a raise of his hand. “I'm here to pay for the damages on behalf of Yakumo. This was all just an accident. How much is the total?”
The officer looked confused. But not as confused as the stall owner, and certainly not as confused as Yakumo, who was staring at D with an open mouth and wide eyes.
The stall owner cleared his throat, stepping forward with a hand on his chest. “Well, I mean, it's probably going to be well into the thousands with all of the wares I must replace, and the roof of my stall—”
Without another word, D reached into his pocket and pulled from it a little leather coin purse. He pulled out several silver coins, each shining with insignia from distant lands. He reached out and took the stall owner’s hand, dropping the coins in his palm with a blank gaze.
The stall owner stared at the coins with an open mouth. This was the equivalent of nearly fifty thousand. How rich was this man!?
D turned away, looking down at the flabbergasted Yakumo. “Let's go,” he said with a nod, and began to walk off.
Yakumo looked at the stall owner and the officer for a moment. He quietly flashed them both two finger guns, clicked his tongue, and then turned away to trot after D. The officer and the stall owner stared at them both for a long while.
The officer turned to the stall owner, squinting. “Can I go now?”
He was given a quiet nod.
D was still walking, though who knows where he was walking to. Yakumo was still just quietly following him, trying to understand what the hell just happened. It had been a weird morning for the both of them, it seemed, though D was taking it all pretty coolly. Yakumo felt like he was in another plane of existence.
After a moment of soaking up all the information, Yakumo took a side glance up at D. He looked him up and down for a moment.
“You're not just a normal traveler, are you?” Yakumo mused with the slightest of smirks.
D glanced at him from the corner of his eye. With a small sigh, he nodded, voice low. “I'm not. I'm a hunter.”
Yakumo clapped his hands, stained fingers lacing together. “Ooh, let me guess… vampire hunter?”
“Right on the money,” D lightly chuckled. “Though, it's pretty obvious, I think.”
The breeze sent leaves passing by the two as they spoke. All thoughts of resupplying had left D's mind as they walked the street. It was a warm day, and they both wanted to learn more about each other. Why wouldn't they chat it up while they had the time?
Yakumo stretched his arms upwards before pressing his hands to the back of his head. Tufts of red hair fluttered between his fingers as he strolled, smirking to himself.
“Mm. I feel like there's more to you than that,” he mused with a soft hum. “I can smell it off of you.”
“What are you, a bloodhound?” D scoffed, giving Yakumo a look.
Yakumo couldn't help but laugh at that. His eyes, usually so squinted, were a little bit open. They were a slightly jarring shade of blue. D didn't think he'd ever seen anyone with eyes so crystalline, small as those irises were. “Hah! Sure. Maybe I am.”
He then lightly tapped at D's arm, trotting forward a few more paces. “Say, a hunter like you needs some things for the road, right? Come on, I have a shop not too far from here.”
D raised a brow at Yakumo's sudden burst of energy. “That's very kind of you.”
“Just call it returning the favor,” Yakumo stated with a grin. He then turned away with a skip, kicking up dirt as he hurried off. D found himself having to speed up to follow.
Admittedly, D expected one of those outdoor stalls selling food or trinkets. When Yakumo turned and began to lead him back into the winding alleyways, D was a little suspicious. Still, he followed, even as Yakumo led him past various trash cans and through a small hole in a fence he had to crawl through.
There was a shabby building up ahead that looked seconds from falling apart. The door was blocked off, so Yakumo climbed a dumpster to wiggle his way through an open window. He paused midway through to call down to the confused hunter.
“Oh, yeah, it might be a bit dark. I don't have lighting. Just come on in.”
Thus, Yakumo tumbled inside with a crash and a soft “ow” .
D was now a bit hesitant, but hell, he got this far. So he climbed up onto the dumpster and heaved himself through the window, landing carefully on his feet on the other side.
He smelled incense.
When he looked up, he bore witness to Yakumo's strange little shop. It looked like this once was a place of worship to something long forgotten. Now the space was cluttered and dark, though incense burners lit nearly every corner, and the shelves were all stockpiled with whatever Yakumo had been able to snatch as wares. The shrine — or, something that looked like a shrine — had been somewhat restored into a front desk with a register on it.
Yakumo was sitting on the top step beside the shrine, shaking the stick he had used to light the incense until the fire went out. He gave the smoke a blow, and then smiled at D. “Come on, take a look around! Take anything you need. Free of charge, my treat.”
D took a curious glance around the room as he wandered in deeper. Many of the items seemed random, like old books, kitchen utensils, flower pots, D was pretty sure he even saw a stuffed animal or two in the mix. He perused the options with a quiet grace. Yakumo found himself squinting even more to try and see the Dhampir in the dark.
D reached out to inspect a tin of gun oil, running his thumb over the faded label. “Where do you get your items?”
Yakumo waved him off with a chuckle. “Don't worry about it. Just pick out anything you want.”
D's nose twitched as he took a sniff at the air. The incense was thick, he could feel it in the back of his throat. As he put the gun oil back, he wandered around the room once more, his eyes trailing to a strange thing hidden under a piece of cloth behind various vases.
He reached out to nudge the vases apart and lifted the cloth. Beneath, a small stone statue stared back at him. A pair of pointed ears and four tiny paws tucked under a bushy stone tail. A little fox statue that was admittedly pretty cute. D blinked down at it quizzically.
“Yakumo,” he began as he picked up the tiny statue. “What was this place before you turned it into a shop?”
Yakumo tilted his head, having somehow obtained a little twig to chew on. It still had the leaf on it. “Huh? Oh. I don't know. Maybe a place of worship from who knows how long ago.”
D lifted up the statue to show Yakumo. “Should I be worried?”
Yakumo shrugged. “I've lived here forever and I'm fine. So, no, I don't think so.”
With a soft hum, D placed the statue back where he found it. He didn't entirely believe in old gods, but that didn't mean he should defile their home. If the fox was meant to stay here, then stay it shall. He could look for whatever else he needed on his own.
His search led him to two half-empty medkits, which he decided were fine enough. He pocketed them both, turning to give his thanks to Yakumo. Though the other was responding before he could even speak.
“You're not gonna take any more?” Yakumo mused. “You did get me out of trouble with the law.”
“This is all I need,” D said quietly. That was a little bit of a lie, but he didn't want to take away Yakumo's wares free of charge. He needed money, after all, and D wasn't cruel enough to take advantage of this small kindness he was being given.
Yakumo chuckled softly, rolling the twig he was chewing on between his teeth. “You're an odd sort, my friend.”
“As are you,” D mused. “I know a fellow monster when I see one.”
It was then that Yakumo's eyes opened slightly, a look of surprise crossing his features. In an instant, Yakumo was laughing, nearly inhaling his twig. He ended up turning away to cough and hack, making D suppress a snort with his hand.
“You good?” D asked.
Yakumo thumped at his chest a few times and then gave D a shaky thumbs up. “Oh, I'm so okay. So cool. Thanks for asking. Which, how did you know– ?”
“It's not hard to figure out,” D laughed. “I could smell it off of you.”
Yakumo grinned at the way his previous words were tossed back at him. He flicked the twig away and stood up from the step he sat upon, hands on his hips and freckled cheeks aglow.
“You're pretty alright, for a fellow monster. What's your name?”
D gave the ghost of a smile back, slightly tilting his head. “D.”
“D?” Yakumo scoffed. “Eh, whatever. I won't question it. As long as you don't tell the people what I am, I won't say what you are.”
D shrugged, stepping up to Yakumo. For a creature that could change its own shape willingly, Yakumo was quite short compared to him. “I wouldn't mind if you did. It's not exactly a thing I try to hide.”
Yakumo still grinned, either way. “Oh, come on, I'm a sucker for contracts. Humor me.”
“Fine, then.” D stretched his hand out towards Yakumo. “I won't tell if you don't tell.”
“Deal.” Yakumo didn't hesitate to take D's hand and give it a firm shake. He looked a bit startled at how cold D's hand was, turning his wrist to look down at the blue veins curiously. D didn't say anything, just let Yakumo inspect his hand however he wished.
After a few seconds of trying to figure out why D's hands were so cold. He glanced back up at the Dhampir, giving a bit of a lopsided grin.
“You know, if you ever do need blood and you're in the area…”
D looked slightly surprised for a moment. Then, he couldn't help but scoff, lowering his head just enough to hide his eyes with the brim of his hat. They were both man eaters. Of course Yakumo would go there.
But instead of declining or accepting, D settled on a few softly spoken words.
“What a sly fox you are.”