Chapter Text
Kaname had been lost in his thoughts of Zero, the weight of memories and regret pressing heavily on his chest, when he sensed Yuki returning home.
Her familiar scent carried on the breeze, signaling her arrival at the mansion. But there was something else—another scent entwined with hers that made his heart clench.
Zero.
The recognition hit him like a blow. His body tensed as the unmistakable trace of his mate lingered in the air, faint but potent enough to stir a torrent of emotions.
Kaname didn’t move as Yuki entered the room, though his crimson eyes flickered toward her briefly. She appeared calm, but the slight hesitation in her movements betrayed her.
“Yuki,” Kaname greeted softly, his tone measured, though suspicion gnawed at him. “You’ve been out for quite some time.”
Yuki hesitated, fidgeting with the edge of her sleeve. “I—I went to see some old friends,” she said, her voice faltering just enough for Kaname to notice. “I wanted to catch up, you know... it’s been a while since we’ve had time for things like that.”
Kaname’s gaze lingered on her, his expression unreadable. “Is that so?” he murmured, his voice gentle but probing.
His senses sharpened, focusing on the scent that clung to her—a scent that made his heart ache with longing and dread. Yuki was hiding something, and the truth was written all over her face.
“I’m... going to go to my room now. I’m tired,” Yuki said quickly, trying to escape the conversation as she turned to leave.
Kaname’s voice stopped her in her tracks. “How is Zero?”
The question hung in the air, sharp and unavoidable. Yuki froze, her shoulders tensing as she slowly turned back toward him. “What?” she asked, her tone strained.
“How is Zero?” Kaname repeated, his voice calm but heavy with meaning. “You’ve seen him, haven’t you?”
Yuki’s eyes widened in shock before narrowing in an attempt to feign denial. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said hurriedly, her voice wavering.
Kaname tilted his head slightly, his piercing gaze holding her in place. “Don’t lie to me, Yuki,” he said softly, though his tone carried the weight of a command. “I can smell him on you.”
Yuki’s mouth opened and closed, her face paling as she realized there was no use in denying it. She looked away, wringing her hands as guilt and uncertainty filled her expression.
“I… I did see him,” she admitted quietly. “But it wasn’t… I mean, it wasn’t planned.”
“Is he well?” Kaname asked, his voice tightening despite his attempt to remain composed.
Yuki hesitated, her gaze flickering to his face as she struggled to find the right words. “He’s… he’s fine,” she said finally, though her voice lacked conviction. “He’s… doing well.”
Kaname’s crimson eyes darkened, his chest tightening at the vague response. She was holding something back—he could feel it.
“That’s all?” he pressed, his voice soft but insistent.
Yuki nodded quickly, eager to end the conversation. “Yes, that’s all.”
But Kaname could see the unease in her expression, the way she avoided meeting his gaze. His mind raced, piecing together the fragments of her demeanor and the scent she carried. Zero. He had been close enough to her for his scent to linger, but there was something more, something Yuki wasn’t saying.
“Yuki,” Kaname said, his voice gentler now, almost pleading. “ If you know something is wrong, you must tell me.”
Yuki’s heart ached at the vulnerability in his tone. She had always loved Kaname—his strength, his grace, his unwavering presence. But in moments like this, when his composure cracked and something raw and human showed through, she felt the depths of her love even more acutely. Yet, she couldn’t tell him the full truth—not about why she had gone to see Zero, and certainly not about the child.
She smiled“I told you everything,” she said softly, her voice trembling. “He’s fine, Kaname. That’s all that matters, right?”
Kaname nodded slowly, though his chest felt hollow. The faint trace of Zero’s scent still lingered, haunting him like a ghost. His mate—his other half—was close, yet unreachable. And now, even Yuki, who had been so devoted to him, was keeping secrets.
As Yuki left the room, her steps hurried and purposeful, Kaname sat back in his chair, his mind spiraling into a torrent of emotions. He felt an ache he couldn’t suppress, the weight of his guilt pressing heavily on him.
He had hurt Zero beyond measure, and now he was being punished by fate itself. His mate was out there, alive, but completely cut off from him.
His thoughts turned bitterly to Yuki. She didn’t knowwhat Zero meant to him. To her, Zero was nothing more than an old friend, a hunter tangled in their world of vampires. She didn’t know that Kaname’s soul had been irreparably tied to Zero’s, that the bond they shared had been the only thing keeping him from drowning in his own darkness.
And yet… Yuki had loved him. She still did. He could see it in the way her eyes lingered on him, in the way her voice softened when she spoke to him. But Kaname couldn’t return it, not anymore. The love he had once reserved for her had been replaced by something far deeper, far more consuming—a love for someone he had ruined.
Kaname leaned forward, resting his head in his hands as a wave of regret washed over him. He thought of the times he and Zero had shared—the stolen kisses, the heated arguments, the quiet moments of trust that had bloomed between them. He thought of the times Zero had resisted him, only to give in with a passion that had consumed them both.
It’s all gone now, Kaname thought bitterly. Because of me.
The scent of Zero lingered in the air, a cruel reminder of what he had lost. Kaname’s crimson eyes closed as he let the memories overtake him, filling him with longing and despair.
His punishment was clear: to live with the weight of his choices, to spend eternity knowing he had destroyed the one person who had truly mattered.
And now, even Yuki, who had once been his sanctuary, was slipping away, lying to him, keeping things from him. He had failed her too—failed to love her the way she deserved, failed to see the damage he had caused her with his coldness.
But his heart belonged to someone else, someone who wanted nothing to do with him.
Kaname sat in the silence, the mansion around him feeling emptier than ever. And for the first time in his long, immortal life, he felt truly alone.
Past.
Kaname rarely indulged himself with time away from his duties, and even less so for something as mundane as a stroll through town. But tonight wasn’t about him. It was about Zero, about giving his mate a brief reprieve from the constant burdens and pain he carried.
The Night Class members had been sent away under the pretense of “family obligations,” leaving the Moon Dormitory unusually quiet. It was the perfect opportunity for Kaname to create something memorable for Zero.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, Kaname led Zero out of the dormitory gates and toward the nearby town. The quiet of the evening was interrupted only by the occasional rustle of leaves or the distant chatter of villagers. Zero walked beside Kaname, his hands tucked into his jacket pockets, his silver eyes scanning the darkened streets.
“Why are we here, Kaname?” Zero asked, his tone laced with suspicion. “This doesn’t seem like your kind of thing.”
Kaname chuckled softly, his crimson eyes glowing in the dim light. “Perhaps not,” he admitted. “But it seemed like something you might enjoy. You deserve a night away from everything—away from hunters, vampires, and all the chaos.”
Zero arched an eyebrow but didn’t argue. The idea of a peaceful evening was tempting, even if he couldn’t quite let his guard down.
They walked in silence for a while, the rhythm of their steps matching. Kaname occasionally pointed out little things—a quaint tea shop he frequented in the past, a flower stall still open despite the late hour. Zero listened quietly, though he occasionally offered a sarcastic comment that made Kaname smile.
When they reached a small café tucked into the corner of the square, Kaname gestured for Zero to sit at one of the outdoor tables. “Wait here,” he said softly before disappearing inside.
Zero watched him go, his silver eyes narrowing slightly. “He’s up to something,” he muttered under his breath, though he stayed put.
Moments later, Kaname returned with two steaming cups in hand, setting one in front of Zero.
“What’s this?” Zero asked, peering suspiciously at the drink.
“It’s hot chocolate,” Kaname said, his lips curving into a soft smile. “You seemed like you could use something sweet.”
Zero stared at him for a long moment before taking a tentative sip. The warmth spread through him, and though he’d never admit it, it was exactly what he needed.
Their conversation had drifted to the topic of bonds, particularly the mate bond that connected them. “You’ve said before that the mate bond is like marriage in vampire society,” Zero said, his voice steady but curious. “Does it… mean the same thing to you?”
Kaname set his cup down, his crimson eyes softening as they met Zero’s. “It means more to me than any human ceremony ever could,” he replied, his voice rich with emotion. “It is a binding of souls, a connection that transcends time, space… even death. You are my mate, Zero. That is an eternal vow.”
Kaname continues “Mate bonds like ours,” he began carefully, “are incredibly rare. The chance of a vampire finding their true mate in a single lifetime is almost nonexistent—even across centuries. The last confirmed bonded pair before us… was nearly a thousand years ago.”
Zero looked up, startled.
Kaname gave a faint nod. “Most vampires—especially those of noble blood—marry for alliance. Status. Legacy. Some fall in love over time. Many don’t. Love is not required.”
Zero’s gaze sharpened. “But you said… when a mate bond does happen…”
“It’s sacred,” Kaname said, meeting his eyes. “It overrides everything. It isn’t a choice. It’s fate. When a bond forms, it’s deeper than any vow, stronger than any bloodline. It’s… eternal. A bond of the soul.”
He reached out, fingertips brushing Zero’s hand—hesitant, reverent.
“And I’ve had power. Influence. Command over legions. But I never had this. I never had you. Not until the bond.”
His voice softened, trembling just slightly.
“I always wanted a mate whose love I wouldn't have to doubt. The Council tries to pair me off constantly—noble daughters thrown at me at every formal gathering, every banquet. They want my name, my legacy. They love the idea of Kaname Kuran."
Kaname’s voice dropped, quiet and raw. “But none of them could love me. Not truly. Not if they knew all of me.”
Kaname’s eyes darkened slightly as he looked away, thoughtful.
For ten thousand years he waited, he married out of duty. Had children to preserve the bloodline. Played the role. But he never knew love. He only waited. Quietly. Patiently. For the one who would love him in spite of everything.
His gaze flicked back to Zero, softened with centuries of ache.
And now… finally it paid off.
Zero’s fingers stilled on his cup, a faint blush creeping across his cheeks. “I guess that’s... kind of like what I wanted marriage to mean. Back when I thought I had a normal life ahead of me.”
Kaname tilted his head slightly, intrigued. “You once wanted to marry in the human way?”
Zero smiled faintly. “It’s funny… before all of this—before my family was taken—I used to dream of having something like my parents had.” His voice trembled slightly as he spoke.
“They were so in love. I remember how my dad used to look at my mom, like she was his whole world. I wanted that.”
Kaname’s heart clenched at the rare glimpse into Zero’s past, at the vulnerable longing etched into his voice.
“I even imagined getting married someday,” Zero admitted, his cheeks tinged pink. “I know it sounds silly… but I wanted the whole thing—a familiar ceremony, vows, rings… Someone who’d stay with me, no matter what.”
His voice turned wistful, eyes shining with long-buried memories. “My dad wore a simple wedding band, and my mom always touched it when she thought no one was looking... I thought it was beautiful. I guess... I just wanted something like that—a family... a home.”
Kaname stilled for a moment, his grip on Zero’s hand tightening just slightly as if anchoring himself to the present. “You still can.” His voice was firm, filled with quiet conviction.
“It’s too late for those kinds of dreams,” Zero murmured with a hint of resignation. “We’re already bonded... that’s enough.”
Kaname’s eyes glowed faintly in the moonlight as a sudden determination took root. “It’s not too late,” he whispered. “Come with me.”
Before Zero could protest, Kaname intertwined their fingers, guiding him through the quiet streets until they reached a small, quaint chapel tucked between ancient oak trees. Its worn stone walls stood as a testament to countless vows made and kept.
“Kaname... we can’t just—”
“We’re already bonded by fate, by blood—it is marriage in vampire society but I want to give you this too... a human ceremony. Something that meant so much to you and will mean something to you.”
They pushed open the heavy chapel doors, and a lone priest emerged from a side chamber, his eyes widening at the sight of the two men standing hand in hand.
“May I help you, gentlemen?” the priest asked, his tone polite but wary.
Kaname stepped forward, his voice steady and commanding. “We wish to be married.”
The priest frowned. “I’m afraid... our traditions don’t allow for... men to marry each other.”
Zero’s heart clenched, but before he could speak, Kaname’s aura shifted—powerful, commanding, yet not cruel. His voice was velvet steel as he repeated:
“You will marry us. Now.”
The priest’s resistance crumbled under Kaname’s authoritative presence. His eyes glazed slightly, and with a slow nod, he gestured toward the altar. “Very well... come forward.”
The small chapel glowed softly in the flickering light of the aged candles lining its stone walls. The air felt thick with meaning, reverence, and an unspoken magic that needed no spells to bind it. Zero and Kaname stood side by side before the simple wooden altar, fingers intertwined, their hearts pounding in unison.
The elderly priest adjusted his robes, still slightly dazed under the subtle influence of Kaname's aura but speaking with solemn authority as if instinct guided him:
“Dearly beloved,” the priest began, his voice deep and steady, “we are gathered here today to witness the sacred union of two souls. Though the world may set limits, love knows no boundaries—neither time, death, nor destiny.”
Zero swallowed hard, his eyes fixed on Kaname, whose steady, crimson gaze held nothing but love and certainty.
“Love is patient and kind,” the priest continued. “It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.”
Kaname's lips quirked softly, the familiar words holding a meaning he never expected to claim for himself—until Zero.
The priest’s gaze softened as he turned to them. “Before you declare your vows, let us honor the strength of your bond. Do you come willingly, prepared to commit your hearts and souls without hesitation or regret?”
“We do,” both whispered, voices steady despite the storm of emotions swirling within them.
The priest nodded towards Kaname. “Then speak your vows—first.”
Kaname gently took Zero’s hands, cradling them in his as though they were the most precious thing he had ever held. His voice was low and steady, yet thick with emotion:
“Zero, you were the light I thought I would never find. For years, I walked this world alone, believing I would never be whole... until you. You are my equal, my partner, my mate—and beyond that, you are my heart.”
Zero’s breath hitched as Kaname tightened his grip, his crimson eyes shimmering.
“I vow to stand by you, through eternity and beyond. I will cherish every breath you take, guard your life with my own, and protect your soul—just as you’ve saved mine.”
His voice trembled slightly as he whispered, “I am yours... always.”
Zero blinked back tears as the priest gently prompted, “And now, your vows.”
Zero took a steadying breath, his fingers lacing tightly with Kaname’s as he spoke with fierce, unwavering love:
“you found me when I was broken, drowning in my darkest shadows.” His voice cracked, but he pressed on, his lavender eyes gleaming with emotion. “You saw what I couldn’t... that there was still something worth saving.”
Kaname’s jaw clenched as his fingers brushing over Zero’s trembling hands.
“I vow to stand by your side—not because fate says I should, but because I choose you... again and again. You are my home, my future, my forever.”
Zero pressed their foreheads together, whispering, “I am yours... now and always.”
The priest nodded approvingly. “The couple will now exchange rings as a symbol of their unending love and commitment.”
Kaname’s expression remained serene as he addressed the priest. “We have no rings to exchange,” he said calmly. Turning to Zero, he continued, “Would you accept the exchange of blood, as is customary in our tradition? I can procure rings for us later.”
Zero’s eyes widened slightly, but he nodded. “Yes, I would.”
The priest hesitated, clearly unaccustomed to such a request. The priest should be scared, he should run but somehow he couldn't help but the command of the dark haired male.
Under the subtle influence of Kaname’s aura, he found himself conceding. “Very well,” he said, his voice wavering slightly. “You may proceed with your tradition.”
Kaname stepped closer to Zero, his gaze never leaving his beloved’s face. With a tenderness that belied his strength, he brushed Zero’s silver hair away from his neck. “This bond,” he murmured, “is eternal, transcending all.” He leaned in, his fangs grazing Zero’s skin before sinking in gently. Zero gasped softly, a shiver running through him as Kaname drew a small amount of blood.
Kaname then offered his own neck to Zero. Zero hesitated for a brief moment before pressing his lips to Kaname’s skin, his fangs piercing gently. The taste of Kaname’s blood filled his senses, sealing their bond in the most intimate way.
"By the power vested in me, through love’s eternal light, I pronounce you bound in heart, soul, and life. You may now seal your marriage.”
Kaname didn’t hesitate. He stepped closer, cradling Zero’s face with infinite tenderness before pressing a slow, reverent kiss to his lips. The kiss was not just a meeting of mouths—it was a promise, a vow, a surrender.
Zero melted into the kiss, his hands tangling in Kaname’s hair, anchoring himself in the warmth of Kaname’s unwavering love.
When they finally pulled apart, Kaname rested his forehead against Zero’s, his voice breaking into a whispered declaration:
“You are mine... now and forever.”
Zero smiled, his heart full. “And you are mine… always.”
When they finally parted, their foreheads rested together, breaths mingling. Kaname whispered, “We were already bound , but I wanted this for you—for us—to honor the human traditions you hold dear.”
Zero’s eyes shimmered “Thank you,” he whispered back. “This means more to me than words can express.”
As they turned to leave the chapel, Kaname paused, glancing back at the priest. With a subtle wave of his hand, he erased the man’s memories of the evening, ensuring their union remained their cherished secret.
Hand in hand, Kaname and Zero stepped out into the night, their hearts light, their souls intertwined in a bond that neither time nor fate could sever.
.
.
The cool night air wrapped around them like a soft embrace as Kaname and Zero lay on top of the Moon Dorm, the faint sounds of the night echoing in the distance. Kaname had prepared the space with meticulous care—a plush blanket spread out over the rooftop, surrounded by soft pillows that promised comfort. The stars above sparkled like diamonds scattered across an endless canvas, casting a serene glow over the two of them.
Kaname turned his head slightly, his crimson eyes softening as he gazed at Zero. His mate’s silver hair glimmered under the starlight, his sharp features relaxed for once. Kaname had seen many things in his long life, but the sight of Zero at peace was something he cherished deeply.
Zero shifted slightly, resting his head against one of the pillows as he looked up at the sky. “I still can’t believe we’ve done this,” he murmured, his voice low but steady. “The marriage… it wasn’t exactly part of the plan.”
Kaname smiled faintly, his hand reaching out to brush against Zero’s. “No, it wasn’t,” he admitted. “But I can’t say I’m unhappy about it. In fact, it feels… right.”
Zero turned his head, his silver eyes meeting Kaname’s. There was a vulnerability in his gaze, one that he rarely showed to anyone else. “You know I’m not accustomed to… to all these vampire traditions,” he said quietly. “But you didn’t make it about that. The human side of it… it means more to me than you probably realize.”
Kaname’s heart swelled at those words. He had known from the start that Zero wouldn’t respond to elaborate vampire customs, so he had made the ceremony simple—intimate, focused on what truly mattered. And now, hearing Zero acknowledge it, he felt a warmth spread through him that no amount of power or immortality could rival.
“I wanted it to mean something to you,” Kaname said softly, his voice carrying a rare gentleness. “Because you mean everything to me.”
Zero blinked, his usual sharpness replaced by something softer. He looked away, his cheeks faintly pink as he mumbled, “You always say things like that so easily.”
“Because they’re true,” Kaname replied, his tone warm but earnest.
They lay in comfortable silence for a moment, the sounds of crickets and the faint rustling of leaves filling the air. Kaname shifted slightly, propping himself up on one elbow so he could look down at Zero.
“Do you know what I was thinking while we were saying our vows?” Kaname asked, his crimson eyes glinting with a mixture of curiosity and affection.
Zero raised an eyebrow, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “That you’ve finally trapped me?”
Kaname chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Not quite. I was thinking about how fortunate I am to have you. Of all the years I’ve lived, all the people I’ve met, I never thought I’d find someone like you.”
Zero’s smirk faded, replaced by a softer expression as he looked up at Kaname. “You’re too smooth for your own good,” he muttered, but there was no malice in his tone.
Kaname leaned down, his face hovering just inches from Zero’s. “And you’re too stubborn for your own good,” he murmured, a playful lilt in his voice. “But somehow, we work.”
Zero didn’t reply, but his gaze softened further, the silver of his eyes reflecting the starlight above. Kaname closed the distance between them, his lips brushing against Zero’s in a tender kiss. It wasn’t rushed or desperate—it was slow, warm, and filled with unspoken promises.
Zero’s hand came up to rest against Kaname’s chest, his fingers curling slightly as he kissed him back. The moment felt timeless, as if the rest of the world had faded away, leaving only the two of them beneath the vast expanse of stars.
When they finally pulled apart, Zero let out a soft breath, his cheeks faintly flushed. “You really don’t hold back, do you?”
“Not when it comes to you,” Kaname said simply, his crimson eyes shining with love.
Zero rolled his eyes, but there was no hiding the small smile that tugged at his lips. “You’re impossible.”
“And you’re mine,” Kaname replied, his voice a soft caress.
Zero didn’t argue, instead settling back against the pillows with a content sigh. Kaname lay down beside him, their hands brushing against each other before Zero intertwined their fingers. They stared up at the stars together, the silence between them filled with a warmth that needed no words.
For Kaname, it was a rare moment of peace—a glimpse of eternity he wanted to hold onto forever. And as he glanced at Zero, his mate’s silver hair glowing under the starlight, he knew that for the first time in centuries, he felt truly complete.
Zero
The streets of Kyoto were quiet that afternoon as Zero carried Isamu in a small sling across his chest. His son, now more cheerful than ever, giggled and grabbed at the air, his tiny fingers stretching out as if trying to catch the sunlight filtering through the trees. Zero couldn’t help but feel a warmth spread through his chest, despite the constant tension that seemed to accompany him everywhere.
Isamu’s recovery had been steady, thanks to the frequent feedings from Zero’s own blood. It wasn’t ideal, but it was the best Zero could do given the circumstances. Every night, he offered his wrist or neck to Isamu, watching as his son drank quietly, his small fangs barely causing pain anymore.
It was strange to be this close to someone so vulnerable, to care for someone with such intensity. It terrified him, but at the same time, it gave him purpose.
Isamu had Zero’s eyes, the same piercing silver that could cut through any darkness. But his hair was another story. Dark and silky, it was unmistakably Kaname’s, and that was a truth Zero had to face every day. As much as he tried to bury the past, his son was a living reminder of the man he had once loved—and now resented.
Walking beside him, Aido stretched his arms lazily, his blue eyes scanning the streets for any sign of trouble. He had been with Zero from the beginning, and his easygoing nature had helped Zero survive the last year and a half. He was the only one Zero had allowed close since Isamu’s birth, and even then, it had taken time for Zero to trust him fully.
“So,” Aido said, breaking the comfortable silence as they strolled, “have you thought about what kind of job you’ll take here? We can’t exactly keep living off my savings forever, you know.”
Zero shrugged, his eyes sharp as he scanned the area for any potential threats. Old habits died hard. “I can’t go back to hunting. I need something quieter, something that won’t draw attention.”
Aido smirked, his playful tone returning. “You? Doing a quiet job? I can’t picture it. Maybe you can open a bakery. You’ve got the cooking skills.”
Zero shot him a dry look. “I’m not exactly built for customer service.”
“True,” Aido conceded with a laugh. “You’d probably scare half your customers away with one glare.”
“Exactly,” Zero muttered. “And I’d rather not owe you forever. I need something to pay my own way.”
Aido took a moment to think, glancing down at Isamu, who was happily babbling and grabbing at the air. “Well, there are security jobs around. You’ve got the skills for it, and it’s not as flashy as hunting. I could put out a few feelers.”
Zero nodded. “That could work. But I’m keeping a low profile, so nothing too close to the vampire circles.”
Aido waved it off. “Relax, I’ve got you covered. Besides, who’d recognize you here? You’re just another overprotective parent now.” He grinned. “You’re actually a pretty good mother, you know.”
Zero stopped mid-step, giving Aido a flat stare. “Mother?”
Aido raised an eyebrow, amusement dancing in his eyes. “Well, yeah. You carried him in your belly for nine months, right? That makes you the mother, not the father.”
Zero glared, his lips twitching. “You really want to go there?”
Aido laughed, shrugging dramatically. “Hey, I’m just stating the facts. You went through the cravings, the mood swings, the whole shebang. I’ve got to give you credit for that.”
Zero rolled his eyes, but before he could retort, a small giggle erupted from Isamu, who had been watching their exchange with wide, bright eyes. The child’s hands reached out, as if trying to grab onto Aido’s words in the air.
“See? Even Isamu agrees with me,” Aido teased, tapping Isamu’s nose gently.
Zero shook his head, but the corner of his mouth twitched upward in a reluctant smile. “You’re impossible, you know that?”
“Yep,” Aido said cheerfully, patting Zero on the shoulder. “But that’s why you keep me around.”
Zero let out a soft sigh, his eyes turning serious once again as they continued walking. “I’ve been exploring the area, making sure there’s no sign of Level E vampires. It seems quiet, but I’m not letting my guard down.”
Aido’s expression sobered as well. “It’s good to be cautious. We don’t want any unwanted attention. But Kyoto’s a big place, and most of the trouble stays out of this area. You’re safe for now.”
“I hope so,” Zero murmured, glancing down at Isamu, who was now napping peacefully against his chest. “For his sake.”
Aido gave him a sympathetic look. “We’ll make sure of it, Zero. You’ve done everything right so far. You’re keeping him safe.”
Zero didn’t reply, but there was a heaviness in his silence. The thought of Kaname finding out about Isamu was a constant weight on his mind.
He knew that if Kaname discovered their son’s existence, it would change everything. But for now, Zero was determined to keep that secret buried, no matter how much it cost him.
As they made their way back to the apartment, Zero felt a strange sense of peace wash over him. It wasn’t happiness—he hadn’t felt that in a long time—but it was something close to it. A small reprieve from the endless storm of his life. For now, Isamu was safe, and that was all that mattered.
When they arrived back at the apartment, Aido immediately flopped down on the couch, scrolling through his phone. Zero gently placed Isamu in his crib, watching as his son stirred briefly before settling back into sleep.
Zero stood over Isamu's crib, his silver eyes soft as he watched his son’s tiny chest rise and fall with each peaceful breath. The warmth of the afternoon sun streamed in through the window, casting a golden glow over the room. For a moment, everything was quiet, serene—a stark contrast to the chaos and turmoil that had defined Zero’s life.
Yet, even as he tried to hold onto this fleeting sense of peace, Kaname’s presence lingered in the corners of his mind, unshakable. The pull of their bond was faint but constant, a thread tugging at his heart, reminding him of what he had walked away from. Everything seemed to carry Kaname’s shadow—the warmth of the sunlight that Kaname would never feel, the steady rhythm of Isamu’s breathing that mirrored his father’s calm demeanor, and even the way the moonlight would spill across the sky each night, as if calling him to remember.
He clenched his fists, his resolve hardening. I can’t afford to think about him. Not now. Not when Isamu needs me more than anything else.
In the living room, Aido was sprawled across the couch, one leg draped over the armrest as he lazily scrolled through his phone. He glanced up when Zero entered, his sharp blue eyes immediately catching the tension in Zero’s posture.
“Still brooding, huh?” Aido quipped, setting his phone down and sitting up. “You’re going to give yourself wrinkles if you keep frowning like that.”
Zero rolled his eyes, his arms crossed over his chest as he leaned against the doorway. “I don’t brood. I think.”
“Sure, keep telling yourself that,” Aido said with a grin. “What’s on your mind this time? Let me guess—Kaname?”
Zero’s glare was sharp enough to silence Aido for a brief moment. “Don’t,” he said curtly. “We’re not talking about him.”
Aido held up his hands in mock surrender. “Fine, fine. But you know, you can’t keep avoiding it forever.”
“I’m not avoiding anything,” Zero snapped, though his voice lacked conviction. He turned away, staring out the window as if the answer to his turmoil might be found in the streets below.
Aido sighed, standing up and walking over to him. “Zero, look, I get it. You want to protect Isamu, and you’ve done a damn good job of it so far. But keeping everything bottled up isn’t going to make it easier.”
Zero didn’t respond immediately, his jaw tightening as he stared at the horizon. “Isamu is my priority,” he said finally, his voice firm. “That’s all that matters.”
“And what about you?” Aido pressed gently. “You can’t keep living like this—running, hiding, pretending that part of your life didn’t happen.”
Zero’s hands clenched into fists at his sides, his shoulders stiffening. “I’m not pretending. I know exactly what happened. I know exactly what I walked away from.”
“And yet,” Aido said softly, “you can’t stop thinking about him, can you?”
Zero finally turned to face Aido, his silver eyes flashing with anger. “What do you want me to say, Aido? That I don’t hate him? That I can’t stop thinking about him even though he’s the reason my life is a mess? Is that what you want to hear?”
Aido didn’t flinch under Zero’s glare. Instead, he crossed his arms, his expression calm but firm. “No, I don’t need to hear it. I already know it. That’s what mate bonds are, Zero. They’re eternal. They’re not something you can just cut off, no matter how much you want to.”
Zero’s hands clenched into fists at his sides, his frustration boiling over. “You think I don’t know that? You think I don’t feel it every single day? It’s like a damn chain I can’t break, and it’s suffocating me.”
The silence that followed was answer enough. Aido stepped back, giving Zero space as the tension in the room thickened.
---
That night, after Aido had retreated to his own room, Zero found himself standing on the small balcony of the apartment, staring up at the moon. Its pale light bathed the city in a soft glow, and for a moment, he allowed himself to be still, to simply exist in its presence.
But the moon reminded him of Kaname—of the quiet nights they had shared atop the Moon Dorm, the soft murmurs of conversation that had turned into deeper confessions. He remembered how Kaname’s crimson eyes would soften in the moonlight, the way his voice would drop to a low murmur as he spoke of his dreams, his regrets, his love.
Stop it, Zero told himself, gripping the railing tightly. This isn’t about him. This is about Isamu. About keeping him safe.
But even as he tried to push the memories away, they came flooding back. Kaname’s gentle touch, his whispered promises, the way he had looked at Zero as if he were the only thing that mattered in the world.
Zero closed his eyes, his breathing uneven. He hated that he still felt this way—that even after everything, Kaname’s presence lingered in his heart like a wound that refused to heal.
Inside, Isamu stirred in his crib, his tiny hands reaching out as if searching for something. Zero turned away from the balcony, his focus shifting immediately to his son. He knelt beside the crib, brushing a gentle hand over Isamu’s dark hair, so soft and silken that it reminded him all too much of Kaname.
“You’re everything to me,” Zero murmured, his voice steady despite the storm inside him. “I won’t let anything take you away from me.”
Isamu cooed softly, his silver eyes blinking open as he looked up at Zero with a small, sleepy smile. For a moment, the weight on Zero’s chest lifted, replaced by a warmth that radiated from the tiny life before him.
Kaname’s shadow may have loomed large, but in this moment, Isamu was all that mattered. And for his son, Zero would endure anything—even the constant ache of a love that could never be.
Past.
Kaname chuckled softly, his crimson eyes glinting with mischief as he turned to face Zero. “You do realize,” he began, his tone teasing, “that this is technically our nuptial night.”
Zero turned his head sharply, his silver eyes narrowing as a faint blush crept up his neck. “Don’t start,” he muttered, though his tone lacked the usual bite.
Kaname smirked, leaning in just enough to close the space between them. “Am I wrong?” he murmured, his voice low and smooth. “Traditionally, a couple spends their first night together after the ceremony… making memories.”
Zero scoffed, though his heart raced at the proximity of his mate. “You’re incorrigible. We’re stargazing. Not—”
“Not what?” Kaname interrupted, his voice laced with playful curiosity. “Not celebrating? I see no reason we can’t do both.”
Zero groaned, rolling his eyes, though a faint flush crept up his cheeks. “You’re insufferable, Kuran.”
“Am I?” Kaname asked innocently, though the glimmer of mischief in his eyes betrayed him. “I just thought it was my duty as your husband to remind you of these important customs.”
Zero groaned, covering his face with one hand. “You just can’t help yourself, can you?”
Kaname chuckled softly, leaning closer. “I merely wanted to remind you before you fell asleep. I wouldn’t want you to forget such an important custom.”
Zero peeked at him from between his fingers, his eyes narrowing further. “If you think I’m going to play along with your weird—”
Kaname cut him off with a swift, playful kiss, catching Zero off guard. The kiss was light at first, teasing, before Kaname deepened it, his hand gently cupping Zero’s jaw. Zero let out a muffled sound of protest, but it melted away as the kiss continued, his hand falling away from his face as he leaned into Kaname’s touch.
Kaname pulled away still leaned close, his fingers trailing down Zero’s jawline before tilting his face slightly. “Tell me to stop,” he whispered, his voice so low it was almost a plea. “If you want me to stop, just say it.”
Zero didn’t. Instead, he closed the small gap between them, capturing Kaname’s lips in a kiss that was both hesitant and eager. The teasing melted away, replaced by a growing intensity that neither of them could deny. Kaname’s hands cradled Zero’s face, deepening the kiss with a passion that left them both breathless.
Zero pulled back slightly, his cheeks flushed as he met Kaname’s gaze. “You really can’t let a single moment pass without making it dramatic, can you?
You’re lucky I tolerate you.”
Kaname laughed softly, his crimson eyes shimmering with affection. “Perhaps. But only because every moment with you is worth remembering.”
Kaname hand trailing from Zero’s hair to cup his cheek. “I’d say it’s more than tolerance, considering you’re lying here with me under the stars. Married to me, no less.”
Zero rolled his eyes again, but his faint smile gave him away. “You’re impossible.”
“And you love me for it,” Kaname replied smoothly, his lips brushing against Zero’s once more.
The playful banter faded as their kisses grew deeper, more fervent. Kaname’s hands slid down Zero’s arms, his touch gentle yet deliberate as he coaxed his mate closer. Zero responded with equal fervor, his usual guarded demeanor slipping away as he surrendered to the bond between them.
Kaname shifted, guiding Zero onto his back as he hovered over him, their bodies pressed together beneath the vast expanse of stars. The cool night air was a sharp contrast to the heat building between them, each touch, each kiss igniting a fire that burned brighter with every passing second.
“Are you sure?” Kaname whispered, his crimson eyes searching Zero’s for any hesitation.
Zero nodded, his silver eyes steady despite the faint pink tint to his cheeks. “Stop asking stupid questions.”
Kaname chuckled softly, his lips curling into a small smile as he leaned down to kiss Zero again. “As you wish, my love.”
The night unfolded in a blur of passion and tenderness, their touches both heated and reverent. Kaname’s hands explored every inch of Zero’s body with care, memorizing the way he responded to every kiss, every caress. Zero’s usual sharpness was replaced with soft gasps and quiet moans, his walls completely undone in Kaname’s arms.
Clothes were discarded in quiet urgency, the cool night air kissing newly exposed skin. Kaname guided Zero gently, laying him back on the blanket beneath the stars. The sky above glittered with constellations, ancient and endless, but Kaname’s entire universe narrowed to the man beneath him.
Kaname’s lips ghosted down Zero’s neck, across his collarbone, tracing every sensitive inch of skin with deliberate worship. Zero’s sharp wit faded into breathy gasps and low moans, his fingers threading through Kaname’s hair, tugging gently as his body arched toward each touch.
When Kaname finally entered him, it was slow, a moment steeped in reverence and intimacy. Zero’s body trembled, legs wrapping around Kaname’s waist as he clung to his mate’s shoulders. His head tilted back, silver hair fanned out against the blanket as he let himself unravel. The connection between them crackled with intensity, unspoken emotions passing between their joined bodies with every movement.
“Zero…” Kaname breathed his name like a prayer, pressing soft kisses to his mate’s flushed skin. “You feel like home.”
.Zero’s only answer was a choked moan, his hands gripping Kaname tighter as their rhythm deepened. Each thrust was measured, deliberate—Kaname wasn’t just taking, he was giving, honoring, loving with every motion. Zero’s voice broke into soft cries, quiet and vulnerable, his walls shattered in the safest place he knew—Kaname’s arms.
They moved together as if the stars above bore witness to their union, their breaths mingling, their hearts beating in tandem. For Kaname, it was more than just physical—it was a reaffirmation of their bond, a moment of pure
Even after the high had passed, they remained wrapped in each other—hearts thudding, lips pressed, breaths shared.
As the heat faded into warmth, passion into peace, Kaname laid back with Zero cradled against his chest. His fingers traced lazy circles along his mate’s spine, grounding them both in the silence.connection that transcended words.
As the night stretched on, their passion gave way to quiet intimacy. Kaname held Zero close, his fingers tracing idle patterns on his mate’s back as they lay entwined on the blanket.
The stars above seemed to shine brighter, as if celebrating the love they had found in one another.
“I wasn’t planning on any of this,” Zero murmured, his voice soft and laced with exhaustion. “But… I’m glad it happened.”
Kaname pressed a gentle kiss to Zero’s temple, his arms tightening around him. “So am I,” he said quietly. “More than you know.”
They lay there in comfortable silence, the weight of the world forgotten for a while. In that moment, under the endless sky, it was just the two of them—two souls bound by fate, love, and a bond that no amount of time or hardship could break.
For Kaname, this was more than a nuptial night. It was a promise—a vow to cherish Zero, to hold onto these moments, and to never take for granted the love they had fought so hard to claim.
The soft light of the afternoon sun filtered through the curtains of the cozy apartment in Kyoto, casting a warm glow across the room. Zero sat cross-legged on the floor, watching his son, Isamu, crawl across the carpet with a determined little expression. Every time Isamu’s tiny hands and knees shuffled forward, Zero’s heart swelled with pride.
“There you go, you’re getting faster,” Zero murmured, his tone soft, as he leaned down to ruffle Isamu’s hair, a perfect shade of Kaname’s rich, dark brown. In contrast, Isamu’s wide, curious eyes—exact replicas of Zero’s own—gazed up at him, sparkling with excitement.
Isamu gave a happy gurgle, his small fingers grabbing onto Zero’s pant leg as he tried to pull himself up. Zero couldn’t help but smile. Every little milestone felt like a victory, a reminder of how far they had come together, despite everything.
From behind, Zero heard the unmistakable sound of a door opening and then Aido’s light, teasing voice filled the room. “Well, well, look who’s getting all the attention today.”
Zero rolled his eyes but couldn’t suppress the smile tugging at his lips. “He’s the one learning to crawl. Of course, he’s getting the attention.”
Aido sauntered over, crouching down beside Isamu with a grin. “Come on, little man, show your ‘uncle’ what you’ve learned today!” he cooed, his voice exaggeratedly sweet.
To Zero’s surprise, Isamu let out a delighted squeal and immediately started crawling toward Aido with impressive speed. Aido clapped his hands, clearly enjoying the moment. “Look at that! You’re a natural!”
Zero chuckled, shaking his head. “Of course, he’d show off for you.”
Aido reached down, scooping Isamu into his arms and bouncing him gently. “Of course he would. I’m his favorite.” He leaned in closer, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “Isn’t that right, Isamu? Say it with me—‘Uncle Aido!’”
Isamu blinked up at Aido, his tiny lips forming a garbled sound that vaguely resembled “Un… Aaa.”
Aido gasped dramatically. “Did you hear that? He’s trying to say it! I knew I was the favorite!”
Zero folded his arms across his chest, raising an eyebrow. “Yeah, sure. Let me know when he can actually say it clearly.”
Aido wasn’t done yet, though. He grinned down at Isamu again, his voice taking on a sing-song tone. “Alright, let’s try something else. Say ‘Mummy Zero!’”
Zero’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Excuse me?”
Aido laughed, his blue eyes twinkling with amusement. “Well, you carried him, didn’t you? Technically, that makes you more of a mom than a dad, don’t you think?”
Zero scowled, but before he could snap back with a retort, Isamu giggled at the sound of the playful exchange, his little fists patting Aido’s chest. “Ma…ma,” Isamu babbled, his voice full of joy.
Aido burst into laughter. “See? Even he agrees!”
Zero groaned, running a hand through his hair. “Great. Now he’s going to grow up thinking I’m his mother.”
Aido shrugged, still grinning. “Hey, it could be worse. He could’ve picked up your habit of growling at everyone.”
Before Zero could respond, Isamu tugged at Aido’s shirt, his wide eyes filled with curiosity as he looked between Aido and Zero. It was almost as if the baby could sense their playful bickering, but instead of getting upset, he gave a loud, happy squeal.
Zero’s expression softened instantly. No matter what, Isamu’s laughter had a way of melting all his frustrations. He couldn’t help but smile, watching his son’s cheerful face.
“Fine,” Zero muttered, shaking his head. “He can call you ‘Uncle Aido’… but ‘Mummy Zero’ is off-limits.”
Aido chuckled, handing Isamu back to Zero. “We’ll see about that.”
Zero cradled his son in his arms, his gaze softening as Isamu’s tiny fingers grabbed onto the collar of his shirt. “I think he’ll say ‘Dad first,” Zero said, his voice gentler now. “Won’t you, Isamu?”
Isamu gazed up at him, babbling something unintelligible before breaking into a wide, toothless grin. Zero felt his heart swell with love. Every day, this little boy brought joy into his life, making all the struggles worth it.
Aido plopped down beside them, crossing his legs. “He really is the spitting image of both of you. Kaname’s hair, your eyes. It’s... kind of wild, to be honest.”
Zero nodded, his gaze fixed on his son. “Yeah, it is.” He paused, his voice quiet as he added, “But I wouldn’t trade him for anything.”
Aido leaned back, his usual teasing expression replaced with something more serious. “You’re a good father, Zero. Don’t let anyone—least of all yourself—tell you otherwise.”
Zero glanced at Aido, surprised by the sincerity in his voice. For once, Aido wasn’t joking or making light of the situation. He was being earnest, and it meant more to Zero than he cared to admit.
“Thanks,” Zero said after a moment, his voice soft.
Isamu, oblivious to the exchange, grabbed the air with his little hands, his laughter filling the room again. Zero held him close, feeling a deep sense of peace settle over him. Despite everything, he was doing alright.
And with Isamu’s bright laughter and Aido’s presence, maybe, just maybe, things were finally starting to look up.
.
.He and Aido sat in the living room, the faint sound of Isamu babbling happily from floor as he played with toys. Zero leaned back on the couch, exhaustion creeping into his features as he finally allowed himself to speak about the darkest days of his life.
“I still don’t know how I made it through that pregnancy,” Zero began, his voice low and heavy with the weight of his memories.
His silver eyes, usually sharp and unyielding, softened as he glanced toward Aido. “If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have made it.”
Aido, sitting on the edge of the armchair across from him, gave a small, awkward chuckle. “Well, I wasn’t exactly thrilled about playing midwife, but someone had to keep you alive. You’re terrible at taking care of yourself, Zero.”
Zero let out a faint huff, Aido continued “ Isamu was draining you faster than you could replenish. You couldn’t even stomach those damn blood tablets.”
Aido’s face darkened slightly as he recalled those difficult days. “You were barely holding on. I had to come up with new blood tablets on the fly—mixing human and animal sources, adjusting the formula just to keep you from collapsing.”
“And half of them didn’t even work,” Zero muttered, his tone bitter but laced with reluctant gratitude. “I hated them. But I know you were doing everything you could.”
“I didn’t have much time to perfect them,” Aido admitted. “You were deteriorating so quickly. I had to try something, anything, to stabilize you.”
Zero ran a hand through his silver hair, his eyes distant as he continued. “I remember when you told me I needed my mate’s blood. I thought it was a cruel joke. The idea that Kaname’s blood could’ve saved me…blood of the man who took so much from me.”
Aido’s voice softened. “It wasn’t a joke, Zero. It was biology. Pregnant vampires—especially ones carrying pureblood children—need their mate’s blood to sustain them. Without it…” He hesitated, his gaze dropping. “Without it, they usually don’t survive.”
Zero’s jaw tightened, the familiar pang of anger and sadness resurfacing. “I didn’t have that option. I wasn’t going to call him, Aido. No matter how bad it got.”
---
The Night of Isamu’s Birth
Zero’s breathing had been ragged that night, his body trembling as he clung to consciousness. The makeshift operating table Aido had set up in the small apartment felt cold and clinical, but there was no time for comfort. Isamu’s birth had become a dire emergency—both lives were at risk.
“Aido,” Zero had gasped, his silver eyes glazed with pain as he lay on the table. “If I don’t make it…”
“Stop talking like that,” Aido interrupted, his voice firm but edged with panic. “You’re going to make it. Both of you are.”
Zero shook his head weakly, his grip on the edge of the table tightening. “Promise me… you’ll take care of him. If I—”
“You’re not dying, Zero,” Aido snapped, his usual calm composure crumbling as he scrambled to prepare. “Not on my watch.”
Despite Zero’s protests, Aido had taken precautions. In the corner of the room sat a small cooler, filled with blood bags he had secretly procured from a hospital weeks earlier. He had known Zero would refuse, so he hadn’t bothered asking for permission.
When the time came, and Zero began to fade, Aido didn’t hesitate. As the emergency C-section progressed and Zero’s blood loss became critical, Aido hooked him up to an IV, feeding the stolen blood into his system.
Zero had been too weak to argue, his body trembling as he fought to stay conscious. “What are you…?”
“Saving your life,” Aido said tersely, his focus unshaken. “You can yell at me later. Right now, you need this.”
---
Hours later, Zero had woken to the faint sound of Isamu’s cries. His entire body felt like it had been torn apart and stitched back together, but he was alive. And so was his son.
Aido had been sitting nearby, his head resting on his arms as he dozed off in exhaustion. Blood-stained gloves and surgical tools lay scattered on the table, evidence of the battle he had fought to keep them both alive.
When Aido stirred and saw Zero awake, his relief was palpable. “You’re alive,” he muttered, his voice thick with fatigue. “Thank God.”
Zero’s voice had been hoarse as he spoke. “You… you used blood from the hospital.”
Aido flinched but didn’t deny it. “You were dying, Zero. I didn’t have a choice.”
For a moment, Zero had simply stared at him, his emotions swirling in a chaotic mess of anger, gratitude, and shame. But then his gaze softened, his voice trembling. “Thank you.”
Aido blinked, caught off guard by the sincerity in Zero’s tone. “For what?”
“For saving him,” Zero said, glancing at the small bundle sleeping beside him. “For saving us.”
Aido had looked away, a faint blush creeping up his neck. “Yeah, well… don’t make me do it again.”
The Aftermath
The night had stretched long, and Zero had drifted in and out of consciousness, his body recovering from the trauma of birth and blood loss. Aido had remained at his side, his worry making it impossible to leave, despite his own exhaustion.
Zero had woken at dawn, his body aching, his head foggy with fatigue. But his son was still there, curled against his chest, sleeping soundly.
Aido had been slumped in a chair nearby, arms crossed, his blonde hair a mess from running his hands through it too many times.
“Go to sleep,” Zero rasped.
Aido snorted, rubbing his tired eyes. “Says the man who nearly bled out.”
Zero exhaled sharply, but there was no real annoyance behind it. He shifted slightly, adjusting the baby in his arms.
“you actually saved me.” Zero’s voice was quiet, but there was something genuine in it, something Aido hadn’t expected.
Aido looked away, feigning indifference. “Yeah, well… I wasn’t about to let you leave me alone with a newborn. I don’t know the first thing about raising babies.”
Zero let out a tired chuckle, but his grip on Isamu tightened slightly, a silent promise in his touch.
They had survived.
Somehow, against all odds, they had made it through the night.
And Zero knew—this was just the beginning.
The Present
Back in the apartment, Zero sighed as he recounted the memory to Aido. “I owe you more than I can ever repay,” he said quietly. “You did what I couldn’t, Aido. You kept us alive.”
Aido waved a hand dismissively, though there was a hint of pride in his expression. “Don’t get all sentimental on me now. It’s bad for my reputation.”
Zero smirked faintly, the rare expression lightening his face. “Your reputation can take the hit.”
The two sat in comfortable silence for a moment, the weight of the past hanging between them. Zero glanced toward Isamu, who was playing happily in his crib, oblivious to the sacrifices that had brought him into the world.
“You’re a good friend, Aido,” Zero said finally, his voice soft. “Even if you’re an annoying pain in the ass sometimes.”
Aido grinned, his usual confidence returning. “Well, someone had to be the responsible one. You’re hopeless without me.”
Zero rolled his eyes but didn’t argue. In that moment, he knew the truth of Aido’s words—and he was grateful for them.
Kaname.
Kaname sat in his study, the flickering light of a lone candle casting long shadows across the room. It had been a month since Yuki had returned home, smelling faintly of Zero—a scent Kaname couldn’t forget, a scent that haunted him endlessly. Every thought of Zero brought with it an unbearable ache, the weight of their severed bond crushing him more with each passing day.
He had tried to focus on his duties, tried to suppress the longing and curiosity that burned within him, but it was futile. The memory of Yuki’s nervous demeanor, the way she had avoided his questions about Zero, lingered like an open wound.
Kaname’s sharpened senses caught a faint sound—Yuki’s voice, speaking softly in another room. At first, he paid no attention, assuming it was a trivial conversation.
But as the minutes passed, her words grew clearer, and he realized she was on the phone. What truly made him pause was the tremor in her voice, the unmistakable sound of her crying.
He rose from his chair and stepped closer to the doorway, remaining silent as her words drifted toward him.
Cross,” Yuki’s voice was barely above a whisper, but the heartbreak in her tone was unmistakable. “I just… I hoped things would be okay between Zero and me.”
There was a long pause, and Kaname imagined Cross’s soothing voice on the other end, trying to comfort her.
“Since I became a pureblood,” Yuki continued, her voice cracking, “Zero and I haven’t been close. It’s like… it’s like he can’t even look at me anymore. Like I’m everything he hates.”
Kaname’s eyes narrowed, his curiosity piqued. His chest tightened at the mention of Zero’s name, at the raw pain in Yuki’s voice. She continued, her words tumbling out as though she had been holding them in for too long.
“When Aido asked me to help Zero, I thought it would be a chance to… to finally have my brother back,” she said, her voice trembling. “But it’s been a month, and he hasn’t even reached out. He hasn’t forgiven me. He probably never will.”
Another pause, and Kaname could hear the faint murmur of Cross’s voice, though the words were indecipherable. Yuki sniffled, trying to collect herself. “I went to see him again,” she admitted, her voice softer now. “But… the apartment was empty. He was gone. He must have left ages ago.”
Kaname felt his heart clench. Gone? His mind raced. Why had Zero left? Where had he gone? And why hadn’t Yuki told him about this sooner?
Cross’s voice grew louder for a moment, enough for Kaname to catch a few words. “What kind of help did Zero need, Yuki? What happened?”
Yuki hesitated, and Kaname could feel the tension in the air as if it were tangible. Finally, she spoke. “There was a child,” she said softly. “A pureblood child who needed a blood imprint to survive.”
Kaname’s frown deepened. His mind reeled with questions. A pureblood child? Why would Zero, of all people, be involved with a pureblood child? He loathed their kind—he had made that clear countless times. For Zero to risk involving Yuki in something like this was unthinkable.
Cross’s concern was evident, his voice rising slightly. “A child? Yuki, whose child is it? Is Zero—?”
“I can’t say,” Yuki interrupted quickly, her voice firm despite her tears. “Zero doesn’t want anyone to know. Especially Kaname.”
Kaname’s chest tightened, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. Especially me? What was Zero hiding from him? What was Yuki helping him with that he couldn’t know about?
His mind raced, piecing together fragments of the conversation. A pureblood child, a blood imprint, Zero’s secrecy… It didn’t make sense. The only purebloods who required a blood imprint to survive were orphaned infants with no parental blood to sustain them.
His heart sank as a horrifying thought struck him. Why would Zero have an orphaned pureblood child with him? Zero, who hates purebloods, who swore he would never trust them… Kaname’s thoughts spiraled, a mix of confusion and dread gripping him.
“Yuki,” Cross said gently, his voice tinged with worry, “I need to know. Is Zero all right? Is the child all right?”
“They’re fine,” Yuki said quickly, though her voice trembled. “They’re fine, but… I don’t know where they’ve gone. Zero was so adamant about keeping everything a secret. I don’t know much either.”
Cross sighed heavily on the other end of the line. “Zero has always been stubborn. But Yuki, if there’s something wrong, you must tell me. He’s still my adopted son.”
“I know,” Yuki whispered. “But I promised him I wouldn’t say anything. I promised.”
Kaname stepped back into the shadows, his mind reeling. Yuki’s words replayed in his head, each one adding to the storm of emotions brewing within him. A pureblood child. A blood imprint. Zero’s secrecy.
What are you hiding, Zero? Kaname thought bitterly, his crimson eyes darkening with suspicion. And why won’t you let me help you?
He couldn’t ignore the gnawing feeling that something was deeply wrong. The thought of Zero struggling alone, keeping secrets from him, filled Kaname with both anger and despair. He had lost Zero once—he couldn’t lose him again, not like this.
Kaname turned sharply, his resolve hardening. He called for Seiren, his most trusted aide, who appeared silently at his side.
“Find him,” Kaname commanded, his voice low but firm. “Find Zero Kiryu and bring me every detail of where he is, who he’s with, and what he’s hiding. Do it discreetly.”
Seiren bowed wordlessly and vanished into the night, leaving Kaname alone once more.
As the silence settled around him, Kaname’s thoughts turned dark. Whatever Zero was hiding, he would uncover it. And if it involved a child—a pureblood child—he would demand answers.
Because no matter what Zero thought, no matter how much hatred burned between them, Kaname would never stop protecting the one person who had ever truly mattered to him.