There were no dreams, neither good nor nightmares. Naturally, he was unconscious, not asleep. The first thing he saw was a blinding white light that burned his retinas. The second was a not-very-impressed face, a woman’s face. It wasn’t Ayame, but a grown woman. He recognized her from when he had brought Ayame to the infirmary, just to make sure she was okay, when she was seriously injured, when he had to give her his own blood.

  Back then, she had looked at him as if he were even heroic, but now she really didn’t seem very impressed.

  “You’re a fucking moron,” she said, though she didn’t sound angry either.

  Vincent tried to smile. He must be okay, or at least out of danger, but the pain hadn't completely faded.

  “Fuck me.”

  “True,” she replied simply.

  “Well, if you recognize that, don't ever do anything like it again.” The nurse brought her hands to her temples, massaging them. “Well, I’m sure it won’t do any good for me to tell you that. So I’ll let the message come from the mouths of people you actually care about.”

  He had only seen this woman once, but it still bothered him to realize he didn't remember her name, seeing how much she cared about him. Even if it was just in a “he’s just a kid doing these stupid things” sense, and not personal concern. So…

  “What’s your name?”

  “Jessica.”

  She opened the door. Tara and Ayame immediately entered, and Jessica left. He hoped they hadn't been out there, scared to death, for a long time. He hoped that today was still today. If they told him he’d been unconscious for days, he was going to have a fit.

  “If I had known you would go that far, I wouldn’t have asked you to fight for me,” Ayame said, throwing herself onto him and burying her head in his shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

  A ridiculous gesture, two words—they couldn't express how he felt. But he couldn't think of any other way to do it at this point. Ayame shook her head, without moving it from his shoulder. Her long, pale hair tickled his cheek and nose.

  “You’re sorry for worrying me—worrying us—not for what you did, so you’d better just drop it.”

  The poor girl swallowed hard, as if trying to hold back tears. If he had seen how she would react, he might have hesitated when it came to running them both through with the sword, when it came to stabbing himself. Although he had known from the beginning that she would take it badly, seeing it was a different story. The guilt was thick and it burned.

  “I thought you were going to die,” Ayame confessed in a thin whisper, and that was even worse.

  Vincent took a deep breath. He closed his eyes. If he hadn't done it, he wouldn't have won. Nothing else mattered right now. He was aware that feeling guilty was simply the privilege of having won. The alternative was much worse, so he would accept it without hypocrisy.

  “How did I get here?” he asked, still not opening his eyes.

  “Judai,” Ayame answered.

  He couldn't help but notice she didn't say “my brother.”

  Tara took a step forward, toward the bed.

  “You messed him up good. I’m almost surprised he made it.”

  Vincent felt it. He wanted to say that he meant made it out alive, though it could also mean made it here to the infirmary. Maybe both. He suppressed a proud smile. Fuck, of course he felt proud, but well, he was Ayame’s brother, after all. He couldn’t gloat like that.

  “I did what I could,” he said finally.

  “You did what you could and more. We both know it.”

  Vincent looked away. Yes, it was true. Next time, he thought, I’ll be stronger.

  “Is this over?” he asked.

  “I think so,” Ayame said. “I think he understands he has no choice but to accept his defeat. You almost killed him.”

  Vincent looked back at her. He had done nothing more and nothing less than what she had asked of him. He had defeated Judai decisively to ensure he wouldn't continue to be a problem and would go home, leaving them in peace. Still, he searched her face for any sign of anger towards him or exception, because he was her brother, after all. But he found nothing. It wasn't a recrimination. She understood.

  “I’m sorry.”

  He apologized anyway, because it was the right thing to do.

  “I’m just saying, it seems like he’s scared of you.”

  Vincent felt it again. Yes, he had seen it in his eyes as he ordered him to surrender. True fear, as if he, Vincent, were the stronger one. He had made his willpower collapse like a house of cards. Maybe he shouldn't feel proud of that, triumphant, but he did.

  “I know I went too far,” he admitted, “but I was afraid of losing you.”

  There, he’d said it. It sounded dangerously close to a confession of love. It was an unusual devotion, even for a friend and a teammate. It was obvious. What if Ayame saw through him? What if she was disgusted that he harbored such feelings? That would be very hard to bear.

  If she noticed, she said nothing. She just grabbed his hand, squeezing it. Was it her hand that was trembling, or his own? He wasn't even sure anymore.

  “I know. Me too. I’ve never been so scared before.”

  Was he an asshole for being happy to hear that? He supposed so. Could he interpret it in a positive and convenient way for himself? That was even less clear. Fortunately, he was saved from putting his foot in it. The door opened, but neither the nurse nor Judai with his tail between his legs entered, but a little angel. Beautiful short, blond hair, pure red eyes. The dress she wore, black with touches of purple, made her look like a doll. Not to mention the ornament that tied her hair in a bun. What was that? A butterfly?

  “Who is this cutie?” Vincent asked before he could think better of it. He couldn’t help it.

  She was the most beautiful little girl he had ever seen. He had never had a little sister, but the truth is he had always wanted one to take care of. She was cute enough to make him squeal.

  “Yue,” Ayame said, “what are you doing here?”

  “Wait! This cutie is your little sister!” He suppressed a squeal. “Of course, of course!” Now he saw the resemblance.

  Not just in the hair or eyes, obviously, but also in the face.

  Tara looked at him as if she were seeing him for the first time. But not in a bad way. It was obvious she was doing her best to suppress a smile.

  “You’re more cheerful than I thought. You must not be feeling so bad.”

  “Call me big brother,” Vincent pleaded shamelessly, without any shame at all.

  Maybe it was because of the massive blood loss. Yes, he’d blame it on that.

  Yue frowned and took a step back.

  “What? You’re not my big brother.”

  The sound of something cracking. Oh! So a broken heart isn’t just a metaphor, he thought, deflating like a balloon on the infirmary bed.

  “I’m not going back,” Ayame said bluntly. “You have to leave.”

  Yue crossed her arms. It was clear he wasn't the only one in the room with a broken heart.

  “Why do you like being surrounded by humans so much?”

  “I’m in love,” Ayame said simply, “with freedom. Though it’s true that you are my biggest regret. I wish I didn't have to leave you alone. I wish I could take you with me.”

  “I would never stay in this place.” The little cutie practically spat, her sweet face twisting with anger and pain.

  “I know, I know that perfectly well. I love you, Yue. I don’t want to hurt you, but my place is here. I can’t do anything else. Go with Judai. This isn’t goodbye.”

  The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  Yue looked away, lowering her head so her face was hidden by her golden hair. Of course, there was no indication she intended to throw in the towel.

  “You want more than just freedom, don’t you?” Yue pointed at him. “It’s because of you, human. Convince her to come back with me, and I’ll call you big brother and anything else you want.”

  Ayame frowned.

  “Yue, don’t be silly. That’s not going to work.”

  “Ayame…” Vincent began, and she tensed.

  So cute. I’m trying to imagine her crying and it’s breaking my heart.

  Ayame turned her head. That was the first time he saw her angry with him. No, disappointed.

  “Whose side are you on? You are my knight, Vincent Parker. Aren't you? Then act like it.”

  Shame and guilt broke the spell he’d been under since Yue entered the room. Vincent took a deep breath.

  “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

  In his defense, he apparently had a weakness for the vampiresses of this family—Ayame’s family—but he had a feeling that wouldn't be much of a defense for Ayame, so he kept his mouth shut.

  Then, to his surprise, to everyone’s surprise except perhaps Ayame’s, Yue threw herself at him, hugging him tightly and burying her head in his shoulder. Just as her older sister had done not long ago.

  “Yue,” Ayame repeated, exasperated, but also with a slight tremor in her voice, holding back emotion.

  Yes, that was what mattered now. The longer this circus went on, the more the farewell would hurt his poor friend. He had to end this.

  “Don’t make it harder.”

  He had to…

  “Big brother,” the little vampiress said in a tiny voice, “please.”

  Fuck, he thought, this isn’t fair, it’s not fair. Vincent swallowed. Yue was much more persuasive than her idiot brother. But he had to fight for Ayame, who was the one who mattered in the end. But could he say they were both wrong? That Ayame wouldn't be better off back home? Maybe not happier, but safer.

  Vincent frowned, placing a hand on Yue’s head, stroking her hair in a way he hoped would be calming.

  No, he couldn't say she was wrong. But that was irrelevant.

  Ayame had made a decision.

  Besides, she wasn't the only one. He, too, had put his own happiness before his family’s. And there was nothing wrong with that.

  What could he say? No excuses, that was for sure. No empty platitudes, which in the end help no one but the person saying them, shirking responsibility with a shortcut. No, this girl, even though he had just met her, deserved something more sincere, from the heart.

  Therefore, there was only one thing he could say.

  “I’m sorry, little one,” he said finally. “But I promise I will keep her safe.”

  That was the only comfort he could offer. Slowly, Yue pulled back, her eyes brimming with tears. The poor girl clenched her jaw and rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand, appearing more embarrassed than furious, to be honest.

  But she had no reason to be ashamed of her tears, of her love. It was the most beautiful thing.

  “You’d better,” she muttered, “or I’ll kill you myself.”

  Vincent met her gaze in silence. Yes, maybe she could finish the job Judai hadn't.

  “I will, I promise, no matter what.”

  Ayame looked at him, still with her arms crossed. Her gaze seemed to say: that’s no comfort to me. But the little girl seemed to be breathing easier now, and that was enough for him. It was enough for both of them, he suspected. For now, of course.

  Ayame hugged her little sister, one hand on the small of her back and the other on her head, stroking her hair.

  “I’m sorry. I wish it didn't have to be this way.”

  In the end, they would stay one more day. Yue had insisted on it, and Ayame hadn't been able to say no. He didn’t blame her for it. Certainly, he couldn't imagine saying no to her about anything, anymore. And he didn't even know her.

  Yue stayed with them. Judai, however, showed no signs of life. He didn’t feel like facing the enemy who had defeated him and feigning weakness, he supposed.

  Well, he thought, better for me. But he could have at least shown up for his little sister. His other little sister. What an asshole.

  Really, they were just making the farewell hurt even more. But Vincent didn't allow himself to think about it. He followed them, along with Tara, as they showed her the place.

  Vincent swallowed the pain, which still crushed his ribs. And he did what he could to make sure Yue had a pleasant time. Well, to help Ayame do it. After all, he was just a stranger. There was no way he could be truly comforting to the girl. Anyway, he did his best. No one could ask for more. For Ayame and for Yue herself, the poor kid deserved it. She was just a little girl who missed her older sister.

  The truth was, the guided tour of Runehaven was going surprisingly well. Yue was opening up to them, relaxing. But, of course, some asshole had to mess things up.

  Someone bumped into her in the hallway as they were leaving the library to show her another place. And it would have been nothing. It shouldn't have been anything. But as I said, he was an asshole, so he didn't act like a normal person. He certainly looked normal at first glance, but he was nothing but a monster. The apology died on the stranger's lips.

  As soon as he looked at her.

  “Oh, an animal,” he added with casual disgust, as if he had stepped in dog shit.

  A hornet’s nest buzzed in his head and Vincent, well, Vincent saw red. It didn’t matter what was right or wrong. It didn’t matter what any decent person should do. He would see red after this shit. So he reached for his sword, but not to draw it. To undo the leather straps that tied it to his waist so he could shove it into the son of a bitch’s mouth. Before he could say another vile thing. That way, he pushed him against the nearest wall, which wasn't very far.

  But at least he was biting the sword and looking at him with a certain fear, not just defiance and rage.

  “Take it back,” Vincent demanded.

  He wasn't interested in his name, he wasn't interested in why he had said that. He was only interested in making things right again.

  “Who the fuck do you think you are—?” only the stranger couldn't finish the sentence.

  “Take it back, or I’ll break your jaw.”

  It was a threat that should be effective. Naturally, many people had stopped to watch, which included his own companions. Given his words, the sword was definitely a good threat. However, the silence didn't last long.

  “You think you’re the master of this school?” his voice came out, distorted by the object in his mouth. “You think you can get away with whatever you want?”

  No, you arrogant piece of shit, he thought. Maybe it’s not that I think I can get away with it, but that I don’t mind facing the consequences.

  Only that was a lie, of course. A lie.

  “Vincent,” Ayame called out.

  It was a warning, but she didn’t sound angry. Of course, he had done this to defend the honor of her little sister and her family. In the end, even if she disagreed, she couldn’t be angry.

  And it was a lie. He definitely did care about the consequences, so he backed off. With one last warning leaving his lips:

  “Be more careful with what you say.”

  He supposed he didn't need to say more, that he had already said enough. He pushed the piece of trash away. The murmurs that filled the hall, even more than the claustrophobic amount of people, grew louder, but most people considered the matter closed and continued walking.

  They did too, but despite his prompt action, it was clear something had changed. That Yue wouldn’t relax as she had before.

  In fact, Yue was walking horribly, with her head down. It wasn't like her. Okay, he had met her today, a few hours ago, but it wasn't like her. That bastard had really affected her. He hadn't done enough. But well, what did he expect? How could it not affect her? However…

  “Thank you,” Yue said, in a barely audible whisper.

  “Thank you?” he repeated, incredulous. “I did what any decent person would do.”

  He didn't miss Tara extending a hand toward the girl’s shoulder to show her support, even if only physically. But for some reason or another, she thought better of it and let it fall.

  “I never thought a human…” Yue continued.

  “You’re human too. What difference do a few fangs make? A slightly different diet and beautiful eyes?”

  The little vampiress’s face lit up like a candle. Adorable. Vincent counted that as a victory.

  “I mean… It doesn’t matter.”

  Ayame came over to kiss her on the forehead.

  “She’s not used to it. That’s all. She’s seen more humans today than in her entire life.”

  Vincent simply nodded.

  “I understand.”

  But, despite what it might seem, his insides were a storm. These hints about the way they had been raised… well, and Judai, he supposed, were worrying.

  Isolation, perhaps for their own good. Perhaps for protection. But isolation, in the end. He wanted to know more about all that. He wanted—well, he hoped he had misunderstood something. But he kept his mouth shut. It just wasn't the time.

  Unfortunately, the next day arrived in the blink of an eye. He could get used to the little one's presence. But that's how things were. She couldn't stay here, no matter how much she wanted to. Too young to enroll. And even if she weren't, well, they wouldn't let her in mid-term.

  In any case, the three of them accompanied them to the exit. Yes, Judai had finally shown signs of life. The siblings watched the sun rise with the dawn as a starting gun for their journey home. Or something like that.

  Then, Judai turned around, surely for the last time.

  “You’re making a mistake.”

  “Maybe,” Ayame said, shrugging. “But it’s my mistake to make.”

  Judai reacted as if she had slapped him, and he finally gave up completely. There was nothing more to say. It had never been a possibility to begin with. Defeated and furious, he didn’t turn on Vincent. He honored the terms of the bet, leaving with his tail between his legs and his hand holding his younger sister's. The one who couldn't choose yet. The one who really needed his protection.

  Judai might not understand it yet, but it was a matter of priorities. He hoped he could focus on the right ones.

  In the afternoon, Vincent escaped to the forest. He still wasn't completely well. Far from it. But Judai had taken a toll on more than just his body. His shield and armor needed immediate attention. And he wasn't going to waste the money from their shared fund for the room and for the, quote-unquote, privileges on something that had been his own fault.

  If he had been better, Judai wouldn't have gotten that far. He wouldn't have allowed it.

  Fortunately, he had long ago found a good place to work. There was an abandoned, dilapidated cabin. Anyone passing by could see him work. Fortunately, and this was what mattered, it had a basement. Total privacy. A place to store his tools and his unfinished projects, if he made others, even if just as spares.

  [Crafting System Engaged]

  Moving, breathing… everything was still painful. But danger doesn't wait for you to be comfortable. Every day brought new complications. So the sooner he got to work, the better.

  First, forge a new shield. The simplest thing. Then, he would see what he could do with his armor. Not just that. Not just restore it, but also improve it. Naturally, he hadn't had much time to work on his true class since arriving at Runehaven. But he believed he could do better now. In any case, his previous work clearly hadn't been enough. As soon as he ran into a sufficiently dangerous enemy, a Runehaven-level enemy. If he couldn't do better, he at least had to try.

  [Project Queued: [Forged Iron Shield - MK II]]

  [Project Queued: [Forged Chestplate - Repair & Reinforce]]

  Restoration was a useless word. A step backward.

  I came here to chase my future. To grab it with both hands and never let go. And that's what I'll do. What I'll always keep doing.

  He had many flaws, no doubt about it. But he was no coward.

  He placed the material on the anvil and struck it with the hammer. The sound echoed through the small basement, the first of many blows.

  Runehaven was a place to be forged, like steel, into something new.

  It wasn't enough for him to be just another Knight. To achieve what others achieved. Even if his victory would have more value simply because he wasn’t predisposed to it, that wasn't enough for him. He wanted to be better. He had to be better.

  Another blow.

  For the family I left behind.

  Sparks flew high.

  For my mother. For my sister. For Ayame and Tara.

  Another small explosion of light.

  And, above all, for myself. I owe it to myself. If I can be better, I have to be better.