Chapter 26: Silly lies

Inside the bathroom, the world outside dissolved, replaced by a suffocating silence broken only by the rhythmic drip of the faucet, each drop a ticking countdown.

Tsukia stood frozen, her fingers clenched white-knuckled on the edge of the porcelain sink, as her mind detached from the sterile tiles and dim light, drawn instead into a hyper-vivid vision that felt more real than the cold water pooling in the basin.

She saw a sprawling field of red spider lilies, their petals like jagged veins reaching from unnaturally warm soil and at the center of this crimson sea stood a massive black-oak tree, its gnarled trunk an abyssal darkness, its leaves a startling, brilliant white as pale and polished as sun-bleached bone.

For a heartbeat, the vision shifted, revealing a nation defined by impossible peace like a distant, melodic laughter of children echoed through streets lined with vibrant, sun-soaked homes, a world where the air tasted of safety.

But the serenity was a lie. With a sickening snap, the scene glitched and tore. Laughter distorted into high-pitched static, and vibrant colors bled away as the horizon buckled.

A sea of blood surged from the roots of the bone-white tree, drowning the lily fields, swallowing homes, and obliterating the history of a people she didn’t recognize, yet mourned with a grief that reached deep into her marrow.

A sharp knock shattered the dream.

“Are you good?” Nightshade’s voice was low, vibrating through the wood of the door.

Tsukia startled, quickly killing the flow of water.

“Yeah,” she managed, her heart still racing from the sight of the blood-red sea.

When she opened the door, she was met with the full force of Nightshade’s presence.

He stood there, his medium-wavy silver mullet framing a face that was unfairly handsome, his deep silver eyes locked onto hers with an intensity that made her breath hitch.

She looked down at her feet, unable to maintain eye contact with a “face card” that powerful.

“Lori and Jasmia are having a deep talk,” He said, his voice smooth as silk, He then reached out, his cool fingers wrapping around her hand.

“Wanna go outside for some fresh air?”

Tsukia found herself nodding before she could even think of an excuse. As they went outside skipping the room where Lori and jasmia are, The moon was a brilliant coin in the sky, reflecting off the rushing water of the river.

The air bit at her skin, a cold that promised winter was only weeks off. It was November 23rd as the wind had a hard edge, and Tsukia hugged herself tightly, shoulders hunched as the gusts clawed through her thin clothing.

Without breaking the silence, Nightshade shrugged out of his jacket. Beneath it he wore only a lightweight shirt that clung to him, outlining the lean muscles beneath.

He didn’t hesitate sweeping the heavy coat up and laying it across her shoulders, letting the thick fabric settle and shield her from the cutting air.

“Don’t you feel cold?” she asked, pulling the jacket tight. It smelled like him—rain, expensive coffee, and something metallic.

“I’m a vampire,” he chuckled, the sound low and melodic.

“My body is already cold. My hometown... it’s much worse than this. You get used to it.”

“I want to go there someday,” Tsukia hummed, watching the moonlight dance on the ripples of the water.

“Nah. It’s dangerous,” he said, a small smirk playing on his lips.

“Not all vampires are as kind as I am.” Nightshade Chuckled looking directly to tsukia’s eyes.

“Shut up” Tsukia hissed.

They shared a quiet laugh, a rare moment of peace that felt fragile, as if the slightest loud noise would break it.

Tsukia thought about her upcoming birthday on March 10th. For the first time in her life, she felt like she had a reason to celebrate.

“What’s your dream?” Nightshade asked suddenly. The question hung in the air, weighted and serious.

Tsukia paused. “Maybe... a dream where I can finally understand myself better.”

Nightshade turned toward her, his sharp features softening. “Can I intervene?” he asked, stepping a fraction closer so that she was almost shielded by his frame.

“I want to understand you better, too.”

Tsukia’s heart skipped a beat. The slow-burn tension that had been simmering since the day they met felt like it was finally catching fire.

“What about you?” she whispered.

“What’s your dream?”

“A normal life,” he said simply.

The honesty in his voice was staggering. The snapping of twigs interrupted the moment.

Nightshade’s instincts flared instantly, he stepped in front of Tsukia, pulling her back against his chest. His heart was steady, a rhythmic thrum against her shoulder blades.

But it turned out there was no monster. From among the trees Lori and Jasmia stepped forward, blinking as they came into view, their faces registering puzzled surprise that quickly softened into relief and small smiles.

Nightshade loosened his hold on Tsukia little by little, his fingers uncurling as Tsukia drew a shaky breath and rubbed at where he’d been gripped.

The tautness in Nightshade’s shoulders eased, and the stern set of his features slid back into the familiar, composed mask he always wore.

“What are you guys doing out here?” Jasmia asked, tilting her head.

“Nightshade said you and Lori were having a deep talk,” Tsukia explained, pointing back at him. “We didn’t want to interrupt.”

Lori and Jasmia exchanged a look of pure confusion.

“Deep talk? Since when?” Jasmia asked.

“We were literally just watching TV and eating. We were waiting for you! Nightshade said he was just going to the bathroom to check on you.”

Tsukia’s eyes snapped to Nightshade.

Nightshade refused to have eye contact and was suddenly very interested in a particular cloud, whistling a tuneless note.

“My vampire brother is trying to score,” Lori teased, throwing an arm over Nightshade’s shoulder. Nightshade didn’t argue, he just let his eyes flash a predatory red for a split second, a silent command for Lori to shut up.

In one swift rush Tsukia felt the whole thing ridiculousness of it as a kind of lie, the instinctive, protective impulse, and the plain, homely quality of the moment wash over her.

The convergence of those sensations was so overwhelming that she broke into sudden, uncontrollable laughter.

Tears of genuine joy pricked her eyes. She looked at the three of them, the fire-user, the healer, and the hybrid and realized she finally had a purpose.

Jasmia grabbed her hand, leading her back toward the basement with the boys trailing behind like a pair of silent guardians.

Tsukia didn’t look back, but she could feel Nightshade’s gaze on her, a look of protective, unspoken desire that promised this was only the beginning.