The engine of Shiori's c7z06 purred as the city lights gave way to the darker, emptier stretches of road leading out toward the airport. Streetlamps flickered past the windshield in long intervals, each one briefly illuminating the inside of the car before surrendering it back to shadow. Shiori rested one hand lightly on the wheel. The other tapped idly against the door, keeping time to a rhythm only she could hear. Her posture was casual, she had already accustomed herself to driving. Caesar lounged in the passenger seat, one arm draped lazily along the window frame, the other resting near the blade between his legs. His expression was placid, almost bored, eyes half-lidded as if this were nothing more than a late-night drive between acquaintances. But appearances were lies. Both of them knew that.
Caesar: "Ten hours is a long flight."
Shiori smiled faintly, eyes still on the road: "You'll survive."
Caesar tilted his head slightly, glancing at her: "So. Dwayne Cunnington. Special-Rank Hunter. Vacationing on an island on the far west side. Care to explain how you know that?"
Shiori: "I've had my eyes on him for a while. A few of my vampires have been tailing him 24/7."
Caesar: "Define 'a while.'"
Shiori: "Over a year." She took a gentle turn, tires humming against the asphalt. "Dwayne is meticulous. Predictable. He has routines. Patterns. Humans like him always do."
Caesar: "Does he have a family?"
Shiori: "That's the best part. A wife and 2 daughters. They're with him of course. They're staying at a resort on the coast of the island."
Caesar: "So what's the plan? Kill his family which breaks him to the point where he lets us kill him?"
Shiori: "That's one outcome."
Caesar: "And the other?"
Shiori: "He tragically pushes past their deaths and a fight breaks out."
Caesar: "How fun. I won't be as much help in a direct fight."
Shiori: "Don't worry, I'm sure you will be."
At the next red light, Shiori reached back with one hand, fingers disappearing into the darkness of the backseat. When she brought her hand forward again, she held something wrapped in dark cloth. She tossed it onto Caesar's lap. He looked down and wrapped it. A sharp whistle blew through his lips upon seeing what it was.
A mask stared back up at him, twisted, theatrical, and menacing. A jester's grin stretched, with sharp fangs which carved into the smile. The eyes were hollow slits, angled and wicked, the surface polished to a dull sheen that swallowed light instead of reflecting it.
Shiori: "Your alias deserves a face, Charlatan."
Caesar lifted it, turning it slowly, inspecting every angle: "You have good taste."
Shiori: "I know."
He held it up, imagining it in place, imagining how it would look when people realized too late what stood in front of them.
Caesar: "It's perfect."
Shiori glanced at him sideways: "You sound grateful."
Caesar: "I am." He lowered the mask to his lap. "I haven't killed anyone since we met."
Shiori: "Am I supposed to be impressed by your restraint?"
Caesar: "No, I just haven't had the time."
Shiori: "You'll have plenty when we get to the island."
His smile widened. They drove on in silence for a while after that.
Eventually, Caesar spoke again: "By the way," he said, gaze drifting out the window, "I thought you should know I haven't been able to keep my eyes off Shinatsu."
The car stopped.
Not slowed.
Stopped.
Brakes screamed as Shiori slammed them down without hesitation, the sudden deceleration snapped Caesar forward against his seatbelt. Tires behind them shrieked, horns blaring as other cars skidded to a halt in a chaotic chain reaction.
The air changed.
It grew heavy.
Caesar slowly turned his head.
Shiori was smiling. It wasn't the easy smile from before. Not playful. Not amused. It was sharp. Predatory. Her eyes glowed faintly, something cruel stirring behind them: "Lay a finger on my sister, and I will slowly, painfully torture you. Even if you beg for death, I won't grant it."
Caesar raised his hands slightly, placating: "Relax. I'm joking."
Her smile didn't fade.
Caesar wanted to see her reaction by telling her that, but it wasn't worth the fear that just ran through his body. A single drop of sweat slid down his temple.
Shiori stared at him for a long second more. Then she released the brake. The car rolled forward again as if nothing had happened. The weight lifted. The night resumed its quiet indifference.
Caesar leaned back in his seat, heart steadying. He thought to himself: 'I won't do that again.'
Shiori too thought to herself: 'I can't wait to see what the future has in store for us, Shinatsu.'
The airport rose ahead of them soon after, bright and bustling, but oblivious to the fiends who had just entered. They parked and began walking. Blending into the stream of travelers moving throughout. They got through TSA, but not before they suspiciously glanced Shiori up and down because of her off-putting grin. Caesar had to show his Hunter license to pass with the blade at his hip. Inside, the terminal buzzed with life. They grabbed food. Caesar ate slowly, eyes scanning the crowd at his gate with interest.
Then he saw her.
Young. Pretty. Nervous excitement written all over her posture. She sat scrolling through her phone next to her mom. When her mom stood to go to the ladies' room, Caesar too stood: "I'll be back," he said.
Shiori watched him go without comment.
Caesar approached the girl with practiced ease, a charming smile, so as to disarm suspicion: "Long flight ahead."
She startled slightly, then smiled back: "Yeah. But the destination makes it worth it."
Caesar: "Haha. I hope so. My sister dragged me along with her."
She giggled and looked at the sword on his hip: "You're a Hunter?"
Caesar: "Yes, I am."
"Wow. You don't look like you fight vampires. No offense."
Caesar chuckled: "Looks can be deceiving. I haven't caught your name yet."
"It's Kylie. Nice to meet you…"
"Caesar's the name."
They talked for a few minutes. She laughed easily and leaned closer without realizing it. She liked him.
Eventually, Caesar stood back up: "I should get back to my sister."
Kylie: "Oh," she said, a hint of disappointment slipping through. "Okay. I'll see you at the island I hope?"
Caesar: "You can count on it." He smiled once more. Then turned away.
For just a moment, just a heartbeat, his face twisted. The charm vanished, replaced by his twisted eagerness to feast on her.
Shiori saw it. When he returned, she didn't look up from her phone: "You really are an evil piece of shit."
Caesar couldn't wait for their arrival on the island.
***
The cabin lights in the plane were dimmed to a soft, artificial twilight that made time feel optional. Rows of passengers had collapsed into awkward sleeping positions, hoods up, mouths open, neck pillows losing the war against gravity. The plane's constant hum was a muffled pressure against the bones, the kind that made your thoughts feel too loud if you let them run.
Caesar didn't. He sat still in his seat, posture relaxed, eyes closed as if he were resting like everyone else. Shiori had her hood up and her gaze down. If she slept, it was the kind of sleep a predator took, light, listening, ready.
There were conversations they couldn't speak about. Not with strangers packed around them like sardines. Caesar slipped his phone from his pocket, angle hidden by his thigh. His screen brightness was turned all the way down, just enough to read without flashing it like a beacon.
A message popped up on Shiori's phone.
Caesar: So, what alter blade does this guy have?
He didn't look at Shiori directly when he sent it. He didn't need to. He could feel the slight shift of her attention like a pressure change in the air.
Then the reply appeared.
Shiori: It's called the Kitsune Blade. As far as I know, it has elemental and illusory powers.
Caesar's eyes narrowed slightly. Illusion. That was the kind of word that didn't belong in normal fights. You couldn't cut an illusion. You couldn't grab it. You couldn't choke it. You couldn't even trust your own eyes.
Caesar: Eh? Sounds like a lot.
Shiori: He is a Special-Rank Hunter. If we fight, it won't be easy.
Caesar stared at the words, then slowly curled his thumb over the edge of the phone like he was considering something amusing.
Easy was fun for him. But hard? Hard meant you had to be careful. Hard meant you had to plan. Hard meant you might actually feel your pulse. He sent the next message with the faintest hint of a smile.
Caesar: But would we lose?
Shiori: Nah, we'd win.
He smiled and put his phone away.
At some point in the night, the cloud cover thinned. Caesar's view looked like scattered constellations laid across black velvet, cities clustered bright and dense, towns smaller and softer, roads threading between them like dim stitches. He watched the lights drift beneath them with the same detached interest someone might give an ant farm. The sky above was darker than it should've been, swallowing stars behind the plane's wake, while the wing lights blinked rhythmically. It was peaceful from up here. That was the problem. Peace always looked convincing from a distance. Even when the ground below was full of Hunters and vampires and people who still believed tomorrow was guaranteed.
They arrived at 5:27 a.m.
Golden Festival Day 26
They took a taxi. The driver chatted cheerfully about surf conditions, and a festival booth that sold the best sweets on the island. The inn Shiori chose wasn't far from the resort. It had that coastal charm that was half real and half a marketing decision.
They checked in and bought snacks from a nearby convenience store, salty chips, sweet buns, and bottled coffee that tasted like bitterness dressed up in sugar. Then they went back to their room and turned on the TV tuned to reality TV.
Eventually, Shiori stood: "Time."
They left.
The resort was the kind of place that made the world feel safer by design. White architecture, bright umbrellas, smiling staff, security that looked professional but not threatening, everything curated to make rich families believe nothing bad could happen here. They chose a spot on the public beach just in front of it. Caesar set up an umbrella and two low chairs. He was barefoot in the sand with sleeves rolled up and sunglasses on. He blended in as a true tourist.
Shiori, for reasons Caesar didn't ask about, rented a surfboard. Caesar watched her carry it toward the water excited to catch some waves. You'd never guess they were plotting to kill a Special-Rank Hunter.
Then she paddled out and started surfing. It wasn't sloppy or amateurish, she cut cleanly through the waves with controlled turns, she had a dancer's balance on moving water. Caesar leaned back in his chair beneath the umbrella.
A shadow fell over his chair. Caesar looked up.
And there she was.
The girl from the gate.
Kylie: "Hey! I thought that was you."
Caesar's face shifted into charm as naturally as breathing: "Kylie, hey!"
Kylie: "You're here pretty early."
Caesar gestured toward the ocean, where Shiori cut across a wave in the distance: "Yeah. Sorry we disappeared earlier. My sister was kind of in a rush to leave. As for the reason… I guess you can see right there."
Kylie laughed, following his hand: "Oh wow. She's good."
Caesar: "Surprisingly so."
Kylie: "Are you guys here for long?"
Caesar: "Not sure actually," Caesar replied, as if the day was open and carefree instead of scheduled around murder. "We have plans sometime today. I don't know when. She'll text me when she's ready."
Kylie laughed: "You guys seem pretty carefree."
Caesar: "A true vacation is when you stay as long as you want with no care for responsibilities."
Kylie giggled, then hesitated like she was deciding whether she was allowed to want more.
Caesar decided for her: "In the meantime," he said, "do you want to explore the town?"
Kylie's face lit up immediately: "Yes! I'd love to."
Caesar: "Let's get to it then."
In the water, Shiori rode another wave. She watched Caesar for a brief moment, watched the way he smiled, the way Kylie leaned in, the way he played human like it was a costume.