Chapter Text
The moonlight shines brightly through the window panes, sending dancing glimmers over the surface of the pool. Subaru sits at its edge, feeling not quite placid but peaceful enough, watching the ripples spreading out from him. All he can hear are the muted splashes of the water when he occasionally kicks out, sending myriad more ripples into the deep end.
These quiet nights were easier to bear, a sorely needed reprieve from his constant surveillance, the silence lending itself to restful, uneventful solitude. It was always easier when his brothers were settled. Between their constantly shifting moods, conjured games, and the endless search to cure the boredom, quiet did not often stay at Sakamaki Manor. Now, it was rarer than ever for a reserved evening to occur, untainted by fraught tempers or simmering thirst.
Of course, he's aware of the reason for the uptick- Komori Yui’s presence has them riled.
Each of his brothers had something pointed to say, either sharing little details of her protests, or tastelessly embellishing their favor for her blood; Laito musing what could make her blood sweeter, Ayato raving over his claim to her. “Her blood sings back to me,” Kanato had said, staring off in that crazed daydream manner of his. To say his family was juvenile would have been laughable, were it not for how very real a threat they presented. But the way they moon over her irks him, like listening to children glorify a mediocre toy. Human blood can’t be so special, can’t be as magical as they've made it seem. Still, somehow not even Reiji, easily the most mature out of them, has been immune to the strange enticement.
But Subaru would be the last to admit it has him riled up too, repulsed by some underlying, quietly intense draw towards her. As is, he feels wound and coiled, so restless and tight within his skin, unable to find any sense of relief as he tries to evade it, the new girl only ratcheting up the tension. The tension often found its way into his dreams, stealing into his head with visions of his mother, his childhood, the numerous sacrificial brides they had been given.
It truly shouldn't have been anything remarkable, having fresh blood around. To keep the peace, his father had organized for some poor victim to land at their feet every so often, whenever they’d start to get uppity. Like throwing a lamb into an enclosure of starving wolves, the brothers were kept placated and distracted with their new prey until the next feeding. So many brides had come and gone over the centuries, each one less and less aware of the danger when they were tossed into the den.
Unlike the other brides of the past however, something about their newest offering is… different. Maybe it's her strong ties to the church, he reflects. No other bride had been so deeply affiliated with religion, but it seems moot. Perhaps her boldness? But other brides had been daring as well, usually to their detriment. Subaru knows first hand how easily their bravery drains out of them when faced with a vampire's thirst. He has yet to feel the new girl tremble beneath him, has yet to succumb to his own bloodlust, but the crushing certainty of the unavoidable weighs on him.
What sets her apart then? What is it?
No matter how slight the difference, it shouldn’t matter, but the difference is there and it pulls at him, begging to become clear in his mind. He can’t quite place it, but there is something, something driving him to seek an answer to a nonsense question.
She has a convincing false bravado, yet is as idiotically naive as many were. She seemed surefooted when she arrived, though her confidence has wavered since. Mentally, Subaru lists all the traits he’s come to expect from the brides. More often than not they are clumsy, too willfully inept to defend themselves, so obnoxiously blind to how sadistic the brothers have grown over the years.
The instruction to spare her life does not lend any optimism she might actually be spared; Subaru knows it's only a matter of time before someone slips the leash. Just learning her name is enough to make the guilt sting, imagining no variation of this cursed dance that can end with her making it off the dance floor alive. They do little better at heeding orders than the brides, who were too mild mannered, too soft to even think of fighting back in any serious capacity. Often he wonders if they’re selected precisely for these qualities, or if it is simply the natural outcome of their vampiric strength against the lethargic weakness of humanity.
Still, he warned them, whenever he could.
Lie low during the full moon, we’re not as gentle.
Fight back, don’t give them the satisfaction.
Here’s your chance, leave.
Subaru hasn’t had the energy to warn their newest guest, instead giving subtle openings for her to escape an incoming tantrum or lecture or bite. But Subaru can’t always hover, can't stomach being so near to that thing that tugs his attention towards her, that thing inside him that wants, growing more and more impatient, sending him spiraling.
She’s only been here a few weeks. Already he feels defeated. Dozens of young girls, broken down to pieces, reduced to tears and scrambling after months, sometimes years of anguish, and here he was, still trying to play the knight. Inserting himself where he could get away with it, trying not to seem too suspiciously sympathetic as he took the brunt of Laito or Ayato’s attention for an evening.
No matter that the girls eventually would be dragged back into the brothers’ claws, beyond his reach.
He ultimately can’t point to anything she has done specifically that has him so out of sorts. The only conclusion he can draw, if anything, is that the only difference that matters is that he is nearly spent, worn ragged from his efforts delaying the inevitable. That, and he has kept himself on the edge of his own sanity for too long.
Staring into the water, he can almost see his memories painting the surface, the cycle playing out again but with the new bride in place of the ones of the past. Ceaselessly, the sacrificial lambs came. Carelessly, they were drained and tossed away. It was a dance that had gone on for so long, so repetitive in the steps: New girl, new screams, same end, his self-appointed role as protector proving less and less reliable. It disgusts him, fills him with self-loathing as he kicks out, disturbing the water's reflections.
Subaru hates it most when they scream, when they weep. Knowing they hadn’t chosen this, knowing they couldn’t avoid it, too scared and meek to do anything but beg. He had not come to enjoy their tears the way Laito did, could not be coldly unaffected like Reiji, even if his thirst is not so different from theirs.
He can’t claim absolution - his share of blood stains his hands too, after all, just as responsible as the others for leading his own victims step by graceless step towards death.
Subaru can work against his brothers and his own needs to draw the music out, distract and soothe and bluster his way to shield the girls for a handful of hours, maybe days if he was lucky.
But he is a monster, same as his siblings. The music would come to an end, and the screams would take its place. When he finally caves, nearly demented by his hunger, even as he feels hot blood soothe the aching thirst, his stomach turns: The relief is never pure enough to wash out the taste of their pain or terror.
Subaru rubs his face, exhausted. He's tired, the kind that sleep doesn’t fix. The circles under his eyes are dark like the bruises he knows he can’t prevent, the shaking he can only hide under the guise of his constant anger for so much longer. Because the ache would always be there, gnawing at him. Whittling his resolve until he thought of nothing but the pain of starvation, and the satisfaction of slaking it. And some new girl, paralyzed and quivering, would fall into his hands. This new girl, he thought sordidly, should be no different.
What is it about her?
Something worms into his chest, something scarcely there, but burrowing all the same. Something so nearly known, like a fragment of a long forgotten memory, whispering past the misery, forcing itself to plant and take root. It feels of longing, of something bittersweet, something in stark opposition to resignation.
What is it what is it what is it
He hates it, the vague, reedy thing he can’t assess or identify. It overwhelms him, the anger and vulnerability, the hunger and desperation colliding furiously tearing him apart from the inside out.
The quiet turns sour, whatever mental scraps of peace he has in ruins with it.
His fist slams into the floor, fracturing the tiles. Breaking things is all he can do, all that will settle his mind when it gets too much for him. Knowing that it does nothing to fix the situation. Frustrated, Subaru steps out of the water, watching the last ripples disappear. As the surface settles, he collects himself, trying to still his emotions in tandem with the pool.
A raven caws overhead, feathers rustling gently. He doesn’t have to look to know which familiar it is. “What are you looking at?”
It flits down, landing near the cracked tiles, pecking at loose pieces. He frowns down at the raven, it’s head tilted back up at him as it cries at him again. “Fuck off. Not in the fucking mood, Ayara.”
Caw!
“Save the lecture. I have somewhere to be.” Ignoring his friend, he has to steady himself. Breathing deep, he reaches for the sense of anger that carries him throughout his days, letting it blunt the world around him. It's easier to ignore his family when his mind is full of blank rage, it's presence the only shield he has against the grating of their company. He doesn’t want to be around anyone, but today is the banquet, and he’d rather not be lectured for ditching again, even if he has to clench his fist at the thought of sitting in the same room as Yui.
Resigning himself to another awful, discordant meal, he wonders what sort of excuse his brothers will use to torment this new girl. It starts slow these days, the brothers games. Kanato gleefully growing more and more unhinged, experimenting with how each girl reacts to the ramp in his lunacy, learning where the lines are for him to cross before a girl would break down. Laito is more patient, preferring to lurk and observe, to locate the cracks where he can sink his claws in, finding where it’ll hurt the most, going after what is most precious to them. Shu, he had never seen the worst first hand, but the outcome is enough to rally him to bite down and grit his teeth for another night.
Frustrations barely held in check, he turns toward the door leading into the house.
Going another round in this endless dance of guessing who would strike first only serves to whet Subaru’s thirst along with his anger, sharpening a vicious hunger. It’s not going to be long before he’ll cave to his lupine urges again. A sense of dread swells and stretches, weighing so heavy he has to straighten his shoulders, hiding how close to cracking he is as it coils itself alongside the growing appetite. Stopping just before he turns the handle, he exhales in a last attempt to let out as much tension as he can, grim resignation coloring the shadows under his eyes.
There is no place for hope, not when his hunger could strip away the light in her eyes, as easily as snuffing out a candle flame.
He will always be hungry, whether or not he fasts. He will always be a vampire, meant to stalk through the night and rip it open for his fill.
And Subaru is miserably empty.