The ride on Hairless was beautiful—strangely peaceful despite the reckless speed we were going at. His hooves struck the stone path like a drumbeat, each impact echoing through the night gardens. There was no mane whipping in the wind, no soft tail flowing behind him—just a sleek, bald frame. His skin was pale and tight, every muscle visible as though sculpted, and his bulging eyes glimmered unnaturally in the Blood Moon's crimson light. He looked like something that should've been pulled from a nightmare itself, a creature designed to frighten children. Yet somehow, to me, he had become familiar. Almost comforting.
But even Hairless couldn't hold my attention tonight.
All I could focus on was Yuki's laughter.
It rang out as she clung to the reins, her hair flying like a banner of fire in the moonlight. She was doubled over at times, the sound spilling out freely, unrestrained, as if for the first time in weeks her heart wasn't weighed down. I realized then just how much I'd missed that laugh. Missed it more than I was ever willing to admit aloud.
Hairless swerved suddenly to avoid a skeleton guard who had been patrolling the path. The poor bastard stumbled and clattered against the garden wall.
"If I had ribs, they'd be broken right now!" the skeleton shouted, shaking his fist.
Another guard marching nearby tilted his skull. "Jim… you do have ribs. That's literally one of the few things you've got left."
There was a long pause. Then Jim crossed his arms with a huff. "Then I've got a bone to pick with you, young master!"
I dragged a hand down my face. "Why do I put up with you idiots?"
Hairless snorted like he was laughing at the exchange. Yuki? She was nearly falling off the saddle from how hard she was giggling.
"Don't be mean to them, Seb!" she managed between breaths. "They're funny!"
"Funny?" I muttered. "They're a disgrace."
She wiped tears of laughter from her eyes. "A disgrace to comedy, maybe."
Eventually, Hairless slowed as we approached a gazebo in the center of the gardens. It was a strange, haunting beauty: marble pillars twined with ivy, their surfaces cracked with age but still elegant. The roof was domed, carved with fading roses and bats, and lanterns of ghostly blue fire hung from the rafters, swaying in the night breeze. Beneath it, the stone benches gleamed like silver under the Blood Moon.
We dismounted. She brushed invisible dust from her skirt, while I ran a hand down Hairless's smooth, bald neck. He huffed and stomped once, satisfied with himself. Then we both stepped into the gazebo and sat across from each other.
We talked at first—about nothing important. Hairless's dramatics. The skeleton guards' endless bone jokes. The books she'd half-finished in the library. But as the minutes ticked by, something shifted. The air grew heavier. Thicker. Every glance lasted too long, every silence stretched too wide.
And then Yuki asked the question.
"What do you think about me?"
It was simple. But it landed like a blade to the chest.
"W-what do I think about you?" I stalled, scratching the back of my neck.
She nodded, her face already tinged pink. "Yes. You never say it outright. You just… tease me. Argue with me. I want to know what you really think."
"…Seriously? You pick now to ask that?"
"Yes," she said firmly, though her hands twisted in her lap. "Now."
I groaned. "Fine, fine… annoying."
Her jaw dropped. "Sebastian!"
"Stubborn."
Her cheeks puffed up. "Say one more insult and I'm leaving."
"Loud."
She reached for the cushion beside her, eyes narrowed.
"…but also," I cut in before she launched it, "brave. Kind. Smarter than you act. You're funny. You make things less suffocating."
Her hands froze mid-throw. Slowly, her blush spread to the tips of her ears. "Y-you mean that?"
"Don't make me say it twice."
She let the cushion drop with a groan. "You're such a jerk. First you insult me, then you blindside me with something that sweet. You're messing with me on purpose, aren't you?"
"I'm just being honest."
"Yeah, well, honesty hurts," she muttered, burying her face in her sleeves.
"Fine. Your turn."
Her gaze met mine, steady despite her red face. "You're frustrating. You act like you don't care about anyone. But you do. You cared about me when I thought no one would. You make me feel safe… and seen. So yeah. I like you. A lot."
"…I like you too. You're a good friend."
Her eyes widened. "N-no! That's not what I meant!"
"What do you—"
"I mean I like like you. Like… a lot."
"…Oh."
"Oh?!" She smacked me over the head with a cushion. "You blood-for-brains! I'm in love with you! Not as a friend, not as a sister—I want to date you!"
And that was when the world tilted.
I couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. My chest constricted, my heart pounding like it wanted to claw out of me.
This world isn't real. It's a nightmare. An illusion. Every face I've seen, every word I've heard, every smile—it's all born from the spell. Even Dracula. Even Yuki. She's not supposed to exist. She's just a figment, a puzzle piece in this cruel game.
But she feels real. Too real. Her laugh, her anger, her tears—how can that be fake?
And what would my family think if I gave in? Mom, Dad, Rain… my brothers. Would they call me insane? Weak? What if word reached Dracula—my "father" here in this twisted illusion? What if he disapproved? What if… what if I ruined everything by falling for her?
And worse—what if something happened? What if she… what if she got pregnant? What would that even mean in a world like this? A child born of shadow and dream? Would they vanish when I woke up? Would she vanish? Could I survive that? Could I live with knowing I'd loved someone who never truly existed?
I stared at her, every muscle in me screaming to retreat, to deny, to run.
But when I looked at her eyes—shimmering, hopeful, terrified—I knew. It didn't matter if this was real or fake. It didn't matter if the spell shattered tomorrow and erased her. I couldn't lie anymore.
"…I think I actually like you too."