Akane stood at the far end of the room, seemingly preoccupied with a phone call. Her tone was calm but focused, her eyes narrowed as if trying to decipher something on the other end. Meanwhile, Masaru paced restlessly, his expression twitching with unease.
"I haven't taken a piss in what feels like forever," he muttered under his breath, then called out, "Hey Akane! I'm just going to walk around for a while!"
Without waiting for a response, he slipped out of the room and wandered down the dimly lit corridor, the air thick with age and silence. The corridor stretched endlessly, shadows dancing on the walls from antique sconces barely giving off any light. After what felt like an eternity of searching, he finally stumbled across a servant dressed in simple gray dress. The girl gave him a respectful bow and kindly pointed him toward the nearest restroom.
Masaru thanked her with a nod and made his way inside. As the door shut behind him, he stood in stunned silence for a moment. The room was massive—easily three times the size of his old apartment. Marble floors, a polished black countertop, and gold-trimmed walls—it was absurdly luxurious for a bathroom.
He walked over to one of the private stalls, unzipped, and let out a sigh of relief. But just as the tension left his body, his gaze wandered downward—and what he saw made him freeze.
"What the—?"
A sharp gasp escaped his lips.
He'd only ever gotten fleeting glimpses before, never really looked. But now, standing there in all his glory, it was undeniable—his 'banana' had evolved into a damn plantain. Nearly 7.2 inches while dormant. The realization sent a chill down his spine and a flush to his cheeks.
What if it awakens?
He gulped hard, his heart racing at the mere thought.
Trying to calm himself, he glanced out the wide bathroom window—which, for some reason, overlooked the estate's grand front gate. It was then that his heart dropped. His entire body froze.
There, standing in the sunlight beyond the gate, was a figure he never expected to see again.
"...Sakura?" he whispered, eyes widening.
Short pink hair, bright pink pupils, and skin that glowed like polished jade. Her hair had been longer before, but there was no mistaking it. The eyes, the face, the build—everything aligned with his memories.
"Sakura!" he shouted.
In a single motion, he launched himself at the window, driven by pure emotion and instinct. But as he soared out into the open air, the full weight of his stupidity hit him.
The sun.
He wasn't wearing the cape.
Shit… I'm going to die.
He shut his eyes tight, bracing for the searing agony of sunlight on his vampire skin—or the deadly impact of a thirty-meter fall.
But… nothing happened.
His body felt fine. The sunlight didn't burn—it felt warm, soothing, even… nostalgic. For the first time since turning, he felt human under the sun. It was a blissful sensation he had nearly forgotten.
Three seconds later, he landed on the ground with unexpected grace. There was a deep crack underfoot, but he remained unharmed, as though he'd leapt from a small ledge rather than the fourth floor of a mansion.
Before he could process the miracle, he heard a familiar voice.
"Masaru?!"
He looked up and saw Akane standing near the pink-haired girl. Without hesitation, he rushed toward them and wrapped his arms around the woman he was so certain was Sakura.
"I can't believe it's really you…" he whispered, eyes shimmering with emotion. "It's been over seven years… My best friend, right here in front of me…"
But the dream shattered instantly.
"Who the hell are you?!" she shouted, shoving him back with a glare that could cut stone. "No manners at all! Hugging a woman you just met?! Even if my beauty is hypnotic, show some damn restraint, meathead!"
She landed a brutal knock on his forehead, sending him crashing face-first into the dirt.
"Seriously, Akane? This is the guy you said might bring you happiness? He's more like a buffoon!" she said teasingly, walking past Masaru, who remained embedded in the ground, twitching slightly.
Akane's face turned bright red. "I—I never said that!" she snapped, trying to mask her embarrassment as she hurried past him too.
Masaru lay there for a moment, stunned—not from the pain, but from the realization.
Of course…
She didn't recognize him. While she herself resembled her childhood self, he on the other hand looked completely different. The transformation he'd undergone… it was so drastic that even skin graft surgery couldn't have explained it.
He slowly pulled himself free and ran in front of them, forcing a smile through the sting of rejection.
"I'm sorry," he said gently. "You probably don't recognize me. I've changed a lot, but it's really me—Masaru. Mr. Masaru. Your childhood best friend. Please… it's still me."
He reached out to take her hand—but stopped. The expression on her face was terrifying. Even more intense than Akane's.
Her gaze was sharp, ice-cold.
"The only reason you're still breathing is because you're Akane's man," she said in a low, venom-laced tone. "Touch me again, and I'll end you right here and now."
Masaru froze.
"First of all, I don't know who you fucking are 'Mr Masaru'. Second, I'm not Sakura—never call me that. My name is Hinata. And third…" She leaned forward, eyes gleaming with lethal intensity. "If you even dream of touching me again, I'll turn that dream into a living nightmare."
The air around her shifted.
Suddenly, it was hard to breathe. The pressure was immense, suffocating. Beads of sweat rolled down Masaru's forehead as he stared into the eyes of a woman who was most definitely not the Sakura he remembered.
"I… I'm sorry," he whispered, lowering his head.
He turned away slowly, his shoulders trembling, and walked off in silence. His face bore a storm of emotions—hope, regret, and aching disappointment.
Akane watched him go with a frown tugging at her lips. It lingered for a second before vanishing. She let out a long, slow sigh.
"Wait…" Hinata said suddenly, eyes narrowing. "Was that the guy? The one I was supposed to help unseal his memories?"
Akane's eyes widened. "Yes! That's him!" she said quickly.
They both turned to look at the door he'd disappeared behind, brows furrowing in unison.
"But how was he able to walk in direct sunlight…?" Hinata murmured.
"He's still a low-class vampire," Akane added.
Together, they stared in stunned silence. The air between them tingled with questions.
The mystery around Masaru had only deepened.
---