Chapter Text
The first thing Yukino had noticed about him was his eyes. For one thing, they were an odd color. Or colors, rather. Red, blue, yellow, and green faded into each other like a color wheel and swirled around the cat-like pupils in the center. For another thing, they were strangely empty. Like whatever was behind them was distant. Despite their hypnotic beauty, they were almost robotic.
However, she'd known him for a long time before he'd even asked her out; they'd run into each other quite frequently at the local grocery store, which eventually led to them chatting and exchanging numbers. He was actually really sweet, and an excellent listener.
Which was fortunate, because she had a tendency to go on about whatever she found interesting at any given moment. One phone call, he'd made the dire mistake of asking her if she'd seen anything good recently and she spent at least 20 minutes going on about some movie she'd seen a week prior.
"Oh, forgive me," she'd chuckled nervously. "I didn't mean to go on quite that long."
"Oh no, I didn't mind! I promise!" he'd assured her, mirth in his tone. "I like that you're enthusiastic about things. It's so boring when all people want to talk about is work and politics. Seriously, yaaawwwnn. Who caarrreeesss."
Yukino started laughing, affection blooming in her chest.
He spoke again. "It sounds like it was pretty good. Maybe I could come over sometime and you could show it to me?"
Her mind rushed. She'd never had a date come to her house before. Taking a breath before answering, she responded.
"Sure, how does Friday sound?"
Yukino had spent her entire Friday tidying her small townhouse. Well, little of it was actual tidying, she was generally very good at keeping her residence clean. Mostly she just fiddled with her few decorative objects. She'd rearranged her little glass rabbits on the kitchen bar at least 5 times.
"Hmm…" she hummed thoughtfully to herself as she nudged a painting of fireworks slightly to the left.
No, it was better before.
She nudged it back slightly to the right.
Or was it?
The sharp ring of the doorbell jolted her from her all-consuming nudging trance.
She opened the door to heavy sheets of rain. Her date stood at the top of the steps in a comically unconcerned fashion, long silvery hair plastered over his eyes and cradling a sopping bouquet of white lilies. "Good evening."
"Oh- I'm so sorry, please come in," Yukino jumped aside to let him in. "I didn't hear it start raining."
He stepped inside, wiping his shoes on the mat with an air of playful sarcasm as his soggy jacket left splashes on the tile floor of the entryway.
"No need for apology. I'm quite hydrated now, so I'll save a lot of time not drinking water for the next two weeks," he remarked, sweeping a curtain of drenched hair out of his face.
She snorted. "Give me a second, I'll find you a towel."
After he was no longer flooding her house and she'd found a vase for the lilies, she led him into her living room.
"This rain is perfect, it'll make everything extra cozy," she smiled, taking the movie DVD out of its rental case and crouching to slide it into the player. "This will be so much fun."
Hammering rain and crashing thunder obscured the woman's screams.
Douma's fangs ripped open the soft neck flesh, using one hand to twist her head to the side and the other to hold her wrists together. She sobbed incomprehensible pleas as writhed and kicked in a feeble attempt to escape or push him away. The piercing tang of blood permeated the small space as it lapped up against his fangs and spilled around his fingers, leaving ruby pools on the white rug. Briefly, he pulled back, gasping for air. It had been far too long. The sweet metallic flavor made the room around him go blurry, a fuzzy feeling settling in his brain.
His hunger had made him perhaps a touch too rough; streaks of blood had been slung across the peaceful pale green walls and were dripping down the baseboards. The white lilies on the table across the room were now flecked with rose.
Her shrieks had devolved into frantic gasps, her wrists going slack and her legs starting to go out underneath her. He threw the arm he had previously used to restrain her wrists around her back to support her. The flashes from outside illuminated his victim's paling visage. The disbelief and betrayal evident in her pink eyes was almost enough to make him feel bad.
He smiled down at her shuddering form. Almost.
He leaned forward to sink in again.
"Cut that out."
Douma retracted, whipping around.
The living room window had been opened from the outside.
A man was crouched in the windowsill. He was dressed in formal wear, a black suit complete with leather oxfords. The top of the suit was completely undone, revealing tattooed blue bands that wrapped around his neck and cascaded down his chest. Though backlit by the infrequent flashes, his stern yellow gaze cut through the dark.
"Lord Akaza!" Douma grinned, his face still dripping crimson. "Have you come to join me for a late night snack?"
Akaza stepped down smoothly from the windowsill, surveying the messy apartment. His brows knit together in disgust. "Absolutely not."
He immediately almost stepped in a puddle of blood, forcing him to hop ungracefully to avoid it.
After nearly losing his balance and muttering some unsavory things under his breath, Akaza pressed his fingers to his temples and exhaled with unconcealed frustration.
"You idiot. I would ask what was going through your mind when you decided to do this, but I know nothing does," he growled. "We can't afford for you to go out on your little jaunts like this, not when we're this close to the Slayers' base of operations."
Douma huffed. "Killjoy." He tossed the unconscious woman to the side. He licked his bloodied fingers clean with indifference as Akaza dove forward to catch her before her head could hit the ground. He gently laid her down on the brown leather couch, pressing a tattooed hand against the torn flesh.
“I knew you would do that,” Douma grinned again. “Now you've got blood all over your snazzy little outfit.”
Akaza flinched back slightly, retracting his hand and regarding the new blotchy accents on his suit. He raised his glare to Douma's eyes, clearly using all of his self-control to not snap his neck then and there.
Douma grinned at him wickedly. “The cleaners will have a field day with this one! 'Whose blood is this? What have you been up to lately? Are you the freak who's been leaving women's dry corpses in the—’”
Akaza promptly punched a hole through Douma's torso.
“First of all, rude,” Douma whined. “Second of all, your sense of humor really is tragic, Lord Akaza.”
Sglorp. Akaza wrenched his fist out, glowering. Douma instantly regrew his middle, casually brushing himself off with a sigh.
“Well, if you’re not going to let me have any fun, I’m off.” He collected his jacket from off the coatrack, slipping it over his shoulders as he approached the door.
"Not so fast. I came here for a reason."
Douma turned back to him. "You mean you didn't come just to see me? Now my feelings are hurt." He scuffed the floor with his foot, face pulled into a mock dejected expression.
"Lord Muzan seems to think you're getting lazy. He's summoned you specifically to meet him tonight."
Douma's face lit up. He bounced on the balls of his feet, pressing his fingertips together. "Oh joy, a mission! It's been forever since he's given me something to do. I don't think he likes me very much."
"I wonder why," Akaza muttered.
"Well, I shan't leave the master waiting. Good luck with…" he waved his hand at the blood-spattered walls and the motionless woman on the couch.
“Hold on, you are not leaving. If you leave the place like this, it'll attract more unwanted attention to the area from both the human authorities and the Slayers," Akaza hissed.
"I'm sure you'll figure something out. Preferably before her neighbors come to see what the screaming was about." He flashed his bloody fangs cheekily at Akaza before stepping out into the rain, slamming the door shut before he could open his mouth again.
He tipped his face to the inky sky, letting the rain wash the blood from his teeth, and disappeared into the shadows.