Chapter Text
Nanami Kento focuses on the target in front of him. Cornered in a back alley, a man lies supine on the unforgiving concrete, black liquid dripping from his throat and fingertips, staining both the ground and his white dress shirt.
The sharp scent of copper hangs heavy in the night air, the sickening sound of slurping accompanying it. A dark shadow hovers above the man, hunched over him like a vulture over its kill. It’s grotesque in the way it shudders, sighs, and laps at the pools of blood with ravenous ecstacy, the long blonde hair cascading from the crown of its head doing little to conceal the horrific scene before him.
Nanami readies himself to take the vampire on, sharpening his senses and using his technique to rapidly build the strength in his body. He’ll dispatch the creature in one blow, there would be less suffering that way.
In anticipation of the violence that is to come, Nanami loosens and removes his tie, circling it around his fist to help reinforce the bones in his hand. He advances, the sound of his heavy footfalls ring between the cold concrete walls that surround them, immediately alerting the creature to his presence.
The vampire stops feeding, the stomach churning sounds it had made swallowed by the darkness surrounding them. Nanami stands perfectly still. The confidence of his stance makes the creature appear uneasy as it leaves the man’s neck to turn and look at him. Fear flashes across her bloodied face for a moment, but it is quickly overtaken by that look of disturbed euphoria in her glowing red eyes. That eerie expression of a vampire in frenzy.
After a decided moment of silence, the creature’s hold on the corpse tightens as she snarls at Nanami. Her fangs gleam in the sparse moonlight from above as she pulls the body closer, thin arms trembling as she cradles the man she had viciously mauled almost like a lover would.
Nanami catches a glimpse of the man’s face when she moves him, expecting to see those wide eyes and mouth frozen open with terror. But instead what Nanami sees disturbs him even more. The man’s eyes are closed, and the expression he’d harbored in his last moments of life looks almost serene.
And for the briefest of moments, Nanami wonders. Is that the face he made when your fangs pierced his throat?
He swallows, his tongue heavy and dry like granite as he forces the thought of you from his mind. He will not taint what happened between the two of you with this. Refocusing on his target, Nanami wastes no more time and lunges at the vampire. The creature shrieks angrily, but it does not run. Instead, she covers the corpse she is cradling and refuses to leave the dead man’s side.
The merciless blow Nanami lands shatters pristine skin and marble bone. The vampire, though powerful, succumbs to the sheer force of Nanami’s overwhelming power like a sapling in a hurricane. Her terrible scream echoes through the night as his fist nearly splits her body clean down the middle. It’s not long before her screams turn to sickening gurgles and she takes her last breath, joining the man beside her.
Nanami slowly stands. Rivers of liquid black drip down his knuckles and land on the grimey pavement below. The rorschach it forms, a sickening signature upon the “good deed” he’d just performed.
“Stop lying to me. You’re a hunter. Killing vampires is what you hunters do, right?”
The trickling down his hands and the cool night air…he can hardly feel them. It feels as if he’s been plucked from the alleyway and placed in some artificial lab, a white room in the middle of nowhere where all sensation and notion of being alive is far beyond his reach.
He feels so…numb.
“If you’re going to kill me just do it already.”
Nanami’s gaze falls and lands on his bloodsoaked hands. Would you end up meeting the same fate as this vampire? Nothing but a bloodstain on the pavement, or a pile of ash scattered in the wind? His entire purpose in life is to wipe your kind out, it is the only life Nanami had ever known. And letting you live, is a betrayal of everything hunters stood for. A betrayal of everything Nanami believed he once was.
But…he can’t go through with it. Can’t even stomach the idea of harming a single hair on your head, let alone send you back to your maker. Nanami knows, deep down in his gut, that he has come to care for you—swiftly, intensely, and so very deeply. And with each vampire Nanami slays, the more he sees your face in them and the more those malicious jaws of his mission—his duty—close in on him. It won’t be long before the others start asking questions.
Or before Gojo takes matters into his own hands.
Shaking away the thought, Nanami reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone, scrolling through his contacts until he finds the person he’s looking for. The phone only rings once before Masamichi’s deep voice rumbles over the line.
“Report.”
“Extermination complete.” Nanami flatly responds. “One human fatality. Requesting cleanup at my location.”
“Understood. I’ll send Itadori and his team.”
Nanami grimaces at those words and his gaze falls upon the two blood soaked corpses on the ground.
“Send someone else.”
There’s a shuffling sound over the phone. Nanami hears Masamichi shout a gruff “Hey!” before he hears that unmistakable, youthful voice join the conversation.
“Hey! Come on, don’t underestimate me! I can handle it. And why didn’t you take me with you today Nanamin?”
Nanami’s response is curt and cold, knowing perfectly well that if he has any hope of stifling Yuji’s protests, he will need to be firm and unyielding.
“This is no job for a child.”
“I’m not a child, I’m a hunter in training! What do you think is going to happen once I become a full fledged hunter, huh? I’m going to be out there exterminating vampires just like you.”
Nanami’s grip tightens around his phone. The thought of any child having to deal with the grim realities of the adult world, or so eagerly accepting the terrible fate of becoming a vampire hunter, makes him feel sick to his stomach. He would spare Yuji or any other child from all of this if he could. Killing vampires isn’t glorious. It’s not even heroic.
Nanami lowers the phone, trying very hard to ignore Yuji’s attempts to get his attention as he quickly switches to his messages and sends off a quick text.
“Nanami?” Yuji’s insistent voice rings loudly through the phone. “Naaaanamiiii? Na-na-miiiin?! Nanananananamiiii!!”
Nanami sighs and returns the phone to his ear.
“I am not arguing with you, Yuji. This is not something you need to see. Tell Masamichi that I’ve contacted Ijichi. He will take care of the cleanup.”
“Wait! Na–”
Nanami promptly hangs up, puts his phone on silent, and slips it back into his pocket. As he waits for Ijichi and the cleanup crew, he glances at the bloodied corpses, their limbs entangled in one another. The vampire’s hand is tightly gripping the man’s and her hold is still so tight that her nails have pierced his skin. She never let him go, not even in death.
Thunder rumbles in the sky above by the time Ijichi arrives with his clean up crew. Nitta, unsurprisingly, has joined him as well. The pair quickly approach Nanami, unsubtly attempting to peer over his shoulder to get a glimpse of the gruesome scene he left behind. Nanami finds their morbid curiosity distasteful, but understandable. Given that both Ijichi and Nitta are some of the many who occupy a supportive role amongst the hunters, this is usually as close to a vampire as they’ll ever get.
Usually being the key word of course. Especially considering that your desk is right next to theirs.
“Was that the only one, Mr. Nanami?” Ijichi asks, the bags under his eyes noticeable even under the dim light.
Nanami nods and then promptly explains the situation. He spares them the unnecessary details, assured that they don’t want to be knee-deep in this sorry affair any longer than Nanami does. Ichiji and Nitta listen intently to the senior hunter’s report before affirming his information and proceeding with the clean up. With any luck, they’d be done a few hours before dawn.
By the time Nanami makes his way home, the thunder roars loudly, like an angry god in the sky. Purple streaks of lightning flash in the midst of heavy, dark clouds. About half way home, Nanami feels the pitter patter of raindrops against his cheeks and hands. His footsteps falter and he looks up for a moment and closes his eyes, savoring the cool touches dotting his face.
The rain increases in intensity as he stands there, engulfing Nanami in a downpour and drenching through his clothing in seconds. He doesn’t move, electing to instead savor that rain, foolishly hoping that it could somehow wash away all the blood on his hands. That he may be forgiven for his sins and could one day leave this kind of life behind and settle down somewhere nice and warm. Maybe…he could even take you with him.
You.
The thought of you is always inescapable. For months Nanami had tried to deny it, but the more time the two of you spent together in that office, the more difficult it became to ignore his feelings for you.
It was the way you smiled. The sound of your laugh ringing down the hallway as you shared corny jokes with your coworkers in the staff room. It was the joy and excitement you had for the little things, and your compassion. The tender and encouraging words you had so freely given him on those late office nights were like a lifesaving breath of air amidst all the drowning. Being in your company, Nanami found both a gentle solace and a burning desire that made him feel more alive than he ever had in years.
A pleasurable throb emanates from the column of his throat, beckoning him. Nanami reaches up, and brushes his fingers along the puckered puncture wounds on his neck.
“You don’t know what you’re offering…”
Oh, he knows. And Nanami will gladly offer it to you again and again and again. So long as you’ll have him, he’ll nourish your body with his own, serving you with his flesh and loving you with his heart until you’re aching for more, crying for more, begging for more. He’ll make you melt in his arms as he renders you blissfully enraptured.
The hiss of the now pounding rain floods Nanami Kento’s ears, the midnight downpour covering the city like a curtain, overpowering the sounds of nightlife as it soaks the earth. Flashes of your ecstasy replays on repeat in Nanami’s mind. The scarlet velvet of your lips and the white gleam of those pretty fangs that scrape so tantalizingly along them are nearly driving him to the point of madness.
Nanami bites his inner cheek. He remembers the feeling of your hot pussy, spread open beneath those panties just for him. Cushioning and cradling his cock so perfectly it was like the two of you were made for one another. An intense heat courses along Nanami’s skin despite the frigid rain. He feels hot and electric, charged much like the sky above. He can practically feel your sinful tongue stoking up his neck and the sharp glide of your fangs along his Adam's apple.
“Mr. Nanami…”
Fuck…
“Touch me.”
His cock instantly hardens, your breathless plea echoing in his mind over and over, tormenting him sweetly with a prurient promise that he knows he shouldn’t want, but covets so ardently. Nanami had never intended to lay a hand on you tonight, but that enchanting siren song of your need—so sweet like a honeydrop from a ripened fruit on the vine—proved impossible for him to ignore.
He is assigned to kill you, and yet here he stands, desperate to give you a piece of him, be it big or small, it doesn’t matter to him either way, so long as he gets to be inside of you.
Nanami resumes his walk, wet shoes squeaking with each step against the glimmering, moonlit concrete. He shakes his head as he adjusts himself in his pants, laughing pitifully under his breath at his sorry state.
You may be the vampire, but between the two of you, who is the ravenous beast really?
Across the sea, Gojo Satoru sits comfortably behind the window of his high rise penthouse, those heavenly blues admiring the spectacular pink and orange tones of the sunrise. He sighs wistfully before taking a sip of his black ivory coffee. It’s been a good hunt, but his fun will soon be coming to an end. Once he eliminates his high profile target it will be back to the mundanity of home.
Despite having no other audience than himself, Gojo sighs dramatically once more before taking another sip from his steaming cup.
“How boring.”
His theatrical melancholy is abruptly interrupted by the vibration of his phone. Glancing down, Gojo reaches down with his dexterous fingers and pulls the phone free from the bathrobe’s pocket. He glances at the notification. It’s a text from Shoko.
‘You need to see this.’
A picture sits below the text. It’s dark and slightly out of focus, but Gojo’s keen eye is near impossible to fool. At the center of the photo is his friend and colleague Nanami Kento, his expression hardened into one of barely controlled bliss. And nestled in his arms, latched onto his throat like a leech, is the vampire princess he was assigned to kill.
A slow, sly smile spreads across Gojo’s lips as he studies the picture.
“Well, well. How unusual for you, Nanamin. Perhaps the return home won’t be so boring after all.”