The incense smoke curled upward, flickering in the dim light of the small mountain temple. Seko Ikara sat in the quiet, his legs crossed in meditation, the warmth of a bowl of miso soup resting gently between his hands. The soft sound of his breathing filled the space, each exhale slower than the last.
Then, the door creaked.
Boots echoed on the stone floor, deliberate, precise. A presence he hadn't expected—stepping into his solitude.
He didn't look up. "You're a little too late for the ceremony. The food's cold."
The hunter's gaze narrowed, her eyes as gray as an overcast sky, a blade in her hand, reflecting the faint glow of candles. "You don't smell like a vampire."
"I don't bite, either," Seko replied, lifting the bowl to his lips, savoring the taste.
She stepped closer, suspicion in her gaze. "Then what are you?"
"Regret, mostly," he answered, setting the bowl down. "The food just dulls the hunger."
The hunter's fingers tightened around the hilt of her sword. "You've lived all these years, feeding on nothing but... this?" She glanced around the temple, her eyes taking in the worn wooden beams, the soft glow of the incense, and the vampire sitting like a man with no purpose.
Seko met her gaze, his expression unreadable. "I choose what I feed on."
Seko's eyes flicked down to the floor, catching the faintest glimmer of wire. His heart skipped a beat, but he didn't let it show. The hunter's smile was cold, almost... entertained.
"Not fast enough," she whispered again, her voice a low promise of what was to come.
Before he could react, the ground beneath him seemed to give way. A soft snap echoed through the temple, and in the blink of an eye, the stone floor he'd been sitting on shifted, opening like the maw of a beast. The floorboards that had seemed so solid suddenly buckled, sending him plunging down into the dark pit below.
But Seko didn't fall far—he was already moving, his supernatural speed allowing him to twist mid-air, landing gracefully on a lower stone ledge just inches from the trap's deadly edge. His heart beat steadily, almost bored, despite the near miss.
The hunter stood above him now, looking down with narrowed eyes. "I told you, I finish what I start."
Seko straightened, brushing dust from his tunic as though nothing had happened. His gaze met hers, calm and unshaken. "Impressive. But traps are for those who can't think their way out."
She stepped back, giving him space, but her sword never wavered. "You think you're different, don't you? Just a boy who eats soup and meditates, pretending to be human."
He tilted his head, eyes glinting in the dim light. "Pretending? No. I'm just living. You, on the other hand... You're trapped in a cycle. Kill or be killed. It's a shame."
Her grip on the sword tightened. "You think you can judge me?" The edges of her mouth curled into a bitter smile. "I've seen what your kind does. What you really are."
For a moment, the air between them thickened with tension, both hunter and vampire poised for the next move. But Seko's gaze softened, and he lowered his stance, his voice calm again.
"You don't even know me."
She paused, a flicker of hesitation crossing her face. Then, with a sudden flash of movement, she lunged, sword aimed at his chest. But in the same instant, Seko sprang forward, not to block or dodge, but to close the distance, his hand shooting out to grasp the blade.
His fingers brushed against the sharp steel, an instinctive reflex, but he was already too late to avoid it. The hunter's blade struck with precision, but instead of sinking deep into flesh, it met only his hand, where a faint sheen of blood started to seep through his pale skin.
The vampire winced, not from the pain, but from the taste of his own blood—a reminder of what he'd been fighting so hard to leave behind.
"Damn it... I wanted to avoid this feeling!"
Seko hissed, his forehead creased with frustration and barely-contained rage. His hand shot up, striking his own head repeatedly as if trying to beat back the overwhelming surge of bloodlust threatening to consume him.
Seko's palm throbbed from the impact, but it was nothing compared to the fire roaring within him. The scent of his own blood—fresh and sharp—pounded against his senses, pulling at his very core, demanding release. His mind raced, grappling with the hunger that clawed at the edges of his consciousness.
"Control it," he muttered through gritted teeth, pressing his hands against his forehead as if he could will the rage away. But the growl of his inner beast echoed louder, urging him to succumb, to drink deep from the well of violence and blood that had been denied for so long.
The hunter watched, her eyes flicking from his trembling hands to his strained expression. She stepped forward, her gaze calculating. "It's a weakness, you know," she said softly, as if she were savoring the moment. "That hunger of yours. No matter how much you try to fight it, it's always there, lurking."
Seko's lips curled into a bitter smile, though the effort seemed to cost him. "And yet, I control it. Something you're clearly unfamiliar with."
Her sword never wavered, but her eyes narrowed in amusement. "You think that makes you strong? Denying who you are... It's pathetic."
"Strength is knowing what you are... and choosing not to be a monster," Seko replied, his voice now steady, though his body still trembled. The bloodlust wasn't gone—it never fully left—but it was pushed down for now.
With a slow exhale, he opened his eyes, looking up at her with a new sense of clarity. "And you? What are you hiding behind that blade?"
The hunter's grip tightened, and for a brief moment, the air between them felt like it might crack. But then, she smirked, shaking her head. "I'm no different from you," she said, her voice cold, edged with something sharper than disdain. "I just don't run from who I am."
Seko's eyes flickered, a shadow of understanding crossing his face. "Is that why you kill? Because you can't control your own thirst?"
She stiffened, and he knew he had struck a nerve. But before she could respond, the tension between them grew too thick to bear. The bloodlust, though momentarily subdued, clawed at his insides again—this time, a little harder, a little fiercer.
His vision blurred for a moment, and his body reacted before his mind could stop it. His hand shot out faster than a human eye could follow, grabbing her wrist in a vice-like grip, forcing her to drop her blade.
Seko's heart thudded in his chest, and for the briefest of moments, he felt himself teetering on the edge. The hunter's eyes widened, the shock of his speed catching her off guard. She had expected a fight, not this... sudden stillness.
For a long moment, neither of them moved. The world held its breath.