It wasn't like I was worried.
Not even a little bit.
Yuki was probably fine. Kitsune were stubborn brats by nature, and she was the brattiest of them all. Maybe she was sulking. Maybe she was avoiding me. Maybe she finally realized she couldn't keep up with me and had retreated in defeat.
…Yeah. That had to be it.
Definitely not because I cared.
But still. It had been a week since I'd last seen her after that meeting with Dracula. No pranks, no teasing, no smug grin across the library table. The halls felt emptier without her constant chatter.
Not that I minded.
I just… noticed.
The first people I asked were the skeleton guards. Mostly because they were always standing around doing nothing, and partially because they were too brain-dead to read into anything. Or so I thought.
"Hey," I said, approaching two of them stationed at the west hall. "You guys seen Yuki?"
One of the skeletons turned its skull toward me, eye sockets glowing faintly blue. "Ah, the fox maiden. Haven't seen her in a while. Why? Missing her tails already?"
I scowled. "No. Just asking a simple question."
The second skeleton leaned on his spear, voice rattling like loose bones. "If I had cheeks, young master, I'd be blushing at your show of affection."
My eye twitched. "It's not affection."
The first one tapped his ribs thoughtfully. "My non-existent heart goes out to you, sire. Love is hard."
"It's not love!" I snapped. "I'm just—just making sure she's not dead or something."
The second skeleton clacked his jaw, clearly imitating laughter. "Oh, he admits he's worried."
"I didn't—!" I dragged a hand down my face. "Forget it. Do you know where she is or not?"
"She went to her chambers after Lord Dracula called for her," the first replied, still rattling with mirth. "Hasn't left since. Not even for meals."
I frowned. "That long?"
"Mm." The skeleton's jaw clicked. "If I still had a stomach, I'd be starving. But she? She starves for love."
"Shut up," I muttered, walking off. Behind me, I swore I heard them humming some off-key wedding tune with their hollow voices
The skeletons had been annoying enough, but I wasn't about to let two clattering boneheads get under my skin. I wasn't worried. I was gathering information. That's all.
The kitchen smelled like roasted meat and fresh bread, a rare comfort in this creepy castle. Maids in crisp uniforms moved about like clockwork, carrying trays and stirring steaming pots. The head maid, a tall woman with pale skin and sharper eyes than most swords, stood at the center barking orders. She had this air about her like she could wring obedience out of even Dracula if she put her mind to it.
I cleared my throat. "Hey. Has anyone seen Yuki lately?"
Every head in the kitchen turned. Forks paused. Ladles froze. Pots stopped clattering.
Great. Wrong question.
The head maid's lips curled in a knowing smile. "Oh my, young master finally notices when the fox is gone?"
"She's not gone," I said quickly. "I just… haven't seen her. That's all."
One of the younger maids giggled behind her hand. "How sweet. He's missing her already."
I slammed my hand on the counter. "I am not missing her! I'm just making sure she's not, you know, starving to death or something."
The room erupted in whispers.
"He's worried she's not eating."
"Such devotion."
"A tragic romance in the making…"
The head maid raised a hand and the chatter died down. She leaned toward me, voice smooth and smug. "Young master, Yuki has indeed not left her chambers since the Lord summoned her. No meals taken. No pranks pulled. Not a single tail seen in the halls."
"…And you're all just fine with that?" I asked, genuinely annoyed now.
"We respect her privacy," the head maid said. "But we also know…" She tapped her chin, eyes glittering. "…if anyone can pull her out of that room, it's you."
I pointed at myself. "Why me?"
"Because you're the only one she bothers arguing with," one of the cooks said, dropping potatoes into a pot. "She doesn't even talk to us unless it's to sneak sweets."
"She calls you 'bloodsucker' like it's a pet name," another maid chimed in, smirking.
"It's not a pet name," I muttered. "It's an insult."
"Ah, but she only uses it with you," the head maid said, clearly enjoying herself. "Special treatment."
I pinched the bridge of my nose. "You're all insane."
"Insane with love stories," the youngest maid sighed dreamily.
I ignored her. My eyes drifted to a tray of warm food—steamed rice, roasted duck, a small bowl of fruit, even a sweet pastry on the side. Perfect. I grabbed the tray.
"Ah, so you are bringing her food," the head maid said slyly.
"Because someone has to," I snapped, balancing the tray on my hands. "Not because I care."
The kitchen filled with muffled laughter. Someone clapped.
"Go, young master!"
"Win her heart!"
"Confess your feelings!"
I stormed toward the door before they could get any louder. Of course, just as I was about to leave, the head maid called after me.
"Don't forget, young master—when she opens the door, smile. Girls like that."
I nearly tripped. "I'm not—! Ugh. Forget it."
Behind me, the whole kitchen was giggling like schoolgirls as I stomped into the hall, tray in hand, face burning hotter than the oven fires.
The kitchen's laughter still echoed in my ears as I stomped into the hall, tray balanced precariously in my hands. I wasn't blushing. My face just felt… warm. Probably the ovens.
Of course, the first two idiots I ran into were none other than the skeleton guards from before.
One leaned on his spear, empty sockets glowing faintly as he tilted his head at the tray. "Ah, young master, delivering sustenance to your lady love?"
The second skeleton crossed his bony arms. "Truly, my nonexistent heart goes out to you. If I had tear ducts, I'd weep at this display of devotion."
I gritted my teeth. "It's food. That's all."
The first skeleton clapped his jaw shut, then opened it again with a sharp click. "If I had cheeks, they would be blushing."
The second one leaned closer. "If I had lips, I'd be puckering them."
"Try it and I'll shatter you into bone dust," I snapped.
They both chuckled, the rattling sound echoing like dry leaves in the wind. One of them raised his spear in mock salute. "Go forth, Romeo. Juliet awaits in her tower."
I muttered something unrepeatable under my breath and quickened my pace, the tray rattling slightly. If I stayed any longer, I'd lose what little patience I had left.
By the time I reached Yuki's door, the humor had drained away, leaving a knot in my stomach. I wasn't worried. I wasn't nervous. I just… didn't like unanswered questions. That was all.
I knocked lightly. "Yuki? You in there?"
No response.
I tried again, harder this time. "C'mon, open up. I brought food."
Silence.
The tray felt heavier in my hands. I tried the handle—it was locked. My jaw tightened. Fine. If she wanted to be difficult, I'd be more difficult.
I shifted the tray under one arm, balled my free hand into a fist, and slammed the door open with a single shove. The wood splintered against the wall.
The room was dim, curtains drawn tight. The air was heavy, like it hadn't been stirred in days. Yuki sat on her bed, knees drawn to her chest, tails limp around her like a cocoon. Her face was pale, eyes swollen red from crying.
She looked like a ghost.
I set the tray down on her desk. "You look like hell."
Her voice was hoarse, barely audible. "Go away, bloodsucker."
"No." I dragged the chair from her desk, turned it around, and sat on it backward, arms crossed over the backrest. "You've been locked in here for a week. You haven't eaten. You think I'm just going to leave?"
Her shoulders trembled, but she buried her face deeper into her knees.
I sighed, rubbing the back of my neck. "Alright, fine. I'll play your game. What happened? What did Dracula say to you?"
No answer.
Minutes passed. The silence stretched so long it made my skin crawl. I leaned forward. "Yuki. You can ignore me all you want, but I'm not leaving until you talk."
She flinched, tails twitching weakly. "Why do you care?"
I opened my mouth, ready to snap back—but stopped. The words tangled in my throat. Why did I care?
"Because…" I struggled, searching for something that didn't sound stupid. "…because seeing you like this pisses me off."
Her head lifted slightly, just enough for me to see the fresh tears clinging to her lashes. "You don't understand. You can't."
"Then make me understand."
Her lip quivered. For a moment, I thought she'd shut down again. But then the dam broke. She hugged her knees tighter, voice trembling like glass about to shatter.
"Miyako. My mother. Everyone in my village… they're gone. Dracula told me—they fought against the war god's army. They never stood a chance."
Her words hit like a blade straight to the gut.
"All of them," she whispered, curling tighter into herself. "Every face I grew up with. Every laugh. Every hand that ever held mine. Wiped out like they never existed."
The room went cold. My chest tightened painfully. I'd seen death before—hell, I'd caused it—but this… this was different.
Without thinking, I moved from the chair and sat beside her on the bed. She stiffened as I reached out, but when I pulled her gently into my arms, she didn't resist.
She collapsed against me, shaking, her face burying into my shoulder as sobs wracked her body.
I held her tighter, one hand awkwardly patting her back, the other brushing through her hair. "Hey… it's okay. Let it out."
"It's not okay!" she cried, her voice breaking. "They're gone, Seb. Every last one of them. I have no one left."
"You've got me, don't you?" The words slipped out before I could stop them. My face heated instantly, but I didn't pull them back. Not this time.
Her sobs quieted, just a little. She clung to me tighter, trembling in my arms.
For the first time since I'd known her, Yuki wasn't teasing, wasn't laughing, wasn't hiding behind sharp words or sly smiles. She was just a broken girl, mourning everything she'd lost.
And for the first time, I didn't mind being the one she leaned on.
We stayed like that, in the dim silence of her room—the sound of her muffled cries the only thing filling the air.
And maybe, just maybe… I didn't hate it.