It had been hours since Kenji had entered the Vampire ID. His clothes, once pristine clothes, were now torn, dirty, and blood-soaked from endless, brutal combat. His breathing ca in slow, tired gulps, each one a conscious effort.
He had long since burned through the initial surge of anger and guilt that had fueled his rampage, but that didn't stop him. No, he kept going, pushing himself further and further, slaying anything that ca into view, each kill a desperate attempt to outrun the gnawing dread. It wasn't just training anymore, a self-inflicted penance, a lapse in judgnt that might have cost a friend her life.
The deeper he ventured toward the heart of the vampire realm, the stronger, more cunning, and more nurous the enemies beca. It was clear that the looming, gothic castle in the distance was the main stronghold, teeming with powerful vampires. By now, he had leveled up an astonishing twelve tis since entering the ID, a testant to the sheer volu of creatures he had cut down, the relentless, bloody efficiency of his newfound power.
Eventually, though, even with his Gar's Body negating physical exhaustion, the ntal fatigue began to win, the emotional toll of his self-imposed tornt catching up. He stood on a desolate cliff overlooking the castle, ragged, soaked in sweat, and utterly drained. He could press on, but it would be a fool's errand, a suicidal charge with his current mind state.
"Better to hit that place fresh," he muttered, his voice hoarse, a dry rasp against the wind. The pragmatic part of his Gar's Mind finally asserted itself, overriding the emotional drive.
With that, he deactivated the ID and found himself back in his living room, the familiar, mundane surroundings jarring after hours of gothic horror. The shift in atmosphere was abrupt, almost disorienting.
He checked the ti—past noon. So much of the day had already gone, swallowed by his internal battle. All his skills, especially the ones he had focused on, had leveled up significantly, a tangible result of his relentless grinding.
Instead of resting, Kenji decided to take a walk to clear his mind. The sun was yet to set, the sky still a brilliant blue, but the thoughts swirling inside him painted everything in shades of grey, a monochro filter over the vibrant world.
Was this his fault? The question echoed in his mind, a relentless, torturous whisper.
No, logically, he knew it wasn't. Erza had chosen to go in blind, either because she hadn't reached the episode or stopped out of a sense of honor and a desire to preserve the natural flow of events.
She had said she wanted to learn about her world through the ani in her own ti, to experience it organically. He had respected that decision, believing it was the right, ethical choice. It would have felt wrong to override her autonomy, to force knowledge upon her against her will.
But emotionally, despite the logic, it still gnawed at him, a relentless, corrosive guilt. He felt responsible, a silent accomplice to a potential tragedy.
He wandered for a while, thoughts spinning in a chaotic vortex, before heading ho as the afternoon waned. As he entered the house, the familiar, comforting scent of food greeted him, a savory aroma of spices and simring broth. In the kitchen, Anastasia stood by the stove, stirring sothing in a pot, her back to him. She glanced back at him as he stepped in.
"You're back," she said, her voice casual, but her eyes, ever perceptive, sharpened instantly as they took in his disheveled appearance and the subtle tension in his posture. "What's wrong, Kenji?"
Kenji gave her a small, crooked smile, one he was sure ca out more like a grimace. "Nothing. Just tired. Long day."
She wasn't buying it. Her gaze held steady, unwavering. "Kenji…" Her voice was soft, but firm, a clear demand for honesty.
"Really," he said with more firmness, trying to project a casual air. "I'm fine."
She looked at him for a long second, her expression unreadable, a mixture of concern and a quiet insistence. She opened her mouth to speak, but then closed it, deciding against it. Just then, the kids burst into the kitchen, their chatter and laughter filling the room, a welco distraction. Anastasia gave him a look that clearly conveyed this wasn't over, a silent promise that their conversation would resu later.
Dinner was lively, filled with the usual boisterous energy of their children, but Kenji remained unusually quiet, picking at his food. Anastasia watched him, her eyes filled with unspoken questions, a silent worry etched on her face. He could feel her gaze, a gentle pressure that only deepened his internal turmoil.
Later, after everyone had gone to bed, the house settling into a comfortable silence, Kenji decided to take a hot bath to ease his muscles and the lingering tension. He was toweling off, the steam still clinging to his skin, when the bathroom door opened softly.
Anastasia stood there, illuminated by the soft glow from the hallway, wearing a silver nightgown, the fabric hugging her curves in all the right places, shimring faintly. For a second, Kenji's brain short-circuited, his exhaustion montarily forgotten, replaced by pure admiration.
She giggled softly, a lodic sound that broke his trance. "It's been a while since I saw that look on your face, dear."
He blinked, shaking his head. "What are you doing here, Anastasia? I thought you were asleep."
She arched a brow, a sly, knowing look in her eyes. "I can't visit my own husband in his own bathroom?"
"N-no! I an, yes! You're always welco, I just—" He stamred, his words tripping over each other, a blush creeping up his neck.
"Relax," she said, a soft smile on her face, crossing the room and sitting gently on the edge of the bed, which was just outside the bathroom door.
It surprised him. They hadn't shared a room in years besides the recent date night. The old Kenji had made sure of that, his behavior creating an emotional chasm between them. While he and she had slept on the sa bed just a day ago, it was because of the atmosphere of the date night that was charged between them that had them clinging to each other that night.
While he shouldn't be surprised about this, given how much closer they had been getting recently, he certainly didn't expect her to seek him out tonight.
She reached out, her hand warm and gentle, cupping his face, turning him to look at her, her eyes soft but insistent. "Talk to , Kenji. What happened? You've been distant all evening."
He hesitated, his gaze dropping. "It's nothing serious, Anastasia. Just… a bad day."
She shook her head, her touch firm. "Don't lie to . You barely touched your food, and you didn't say a word at dinner. The kids noticed, Kenji. They were asking if sothing was wrong with Dad. I noticed. So please, talk to . What's truly bothering you?"
He stared at her, her unwavering gaze piercing through his carefully constructed facade. The genuine concern in her eyes broke through his emotional barriers. He sighed, a long, weary exhalation. "I… I received so news today. A friend of mine, soone I t recently, from far away, got into an accident. A very serious one. And I don't know if they're alright or not." He chose his words carefully, trying to convey the truth without revealing the impossible.
She looked a little concerned, her brow furrowing. "Oh, Kenji, I'm so sorry. Is it anyone I know? How serious is it?"
"No," he replied, shaking his head. "Just soone I t recently, through… a new connection. And I don't even know the extent of the injury, or if they're even… still..." He trailed off, the last part hinting at the grayed-out status.
She tilted her head, her gaze thoughtful. "And that's what's bothering you this much? I an, I understand being worried, but this seems… deeper than just a friend's accident."
Kenji sighed, the words tumbling out, the dam finally breaking. "They ntioned they were going to do sothing, sothing dangerous. And I… I knew it could go badly. I had information that could have helped them, could have warned them about the true danger. But they insisted they didn't want to know about it, they wanted to face it on their own terms. I respected that decision. I thought it was right to let them have their autonomy. But now… now sothing's gone terribly wrong, and I can't help but think maybe I should have said sothing anyway. That it's my fault they might be hurt, or worse." His voice cracked with raw guilt.
He walked out of the bathroom and got dressed for bed, as he sat close to her.
She gently tugged him, pulling him closer until he rested his head in her lap. Her fingers imdiately went to his hair, stroking it softly, a soothing, rhythmic motion that began to unravel the knots of tension in his mind.
"Did they know you knew?" she asked, her voice calm, gentle, her fingers continuing their comforting rhythm.
"Yeah," he murmured, his eyes closed, leaning into her touch.
"And you tried to tell them, but they didn't want to hear it? They preferred to discover it by themselves?"
"Yeah," he repeated, the word a soft exhalation.
She leaned down and kissed his forehead, a tender, reassuring touch. "Then it's not your fault, Kenji. Not at all. So people in life, especially strong, independent ones, need to see things for themselves, to learn their own lessons, even if those lessons are hard. That doesn't make you guilty for respecting their choice, for honoring their autonomy. You did what you thought was right, what they asked of you. And I'm sure they don't hold a grudge for that, no matter what happened." Her words were a balm to his tornted soul, a quiet absolution. "They'll be okay," she whispered, her voice filled with a quiet certainty. "You just have to believe that, Kenji. Have faith in your friend."
He let out a quiet hum, a sound of deep relief, the tension slowly draining from his body. Her words, her touch, her unwavering belief, were more potent than any healing potion. "Love you," he whispered, the words heartfelt, sincere.
"I know," she replied with a soft smile, her fingers still gently caressing his hair.
Before he could even fully realize it, the imnse ntal fatigue from his self-imposed punishnt, combined with the soothing comfort of her presence, finally claid him. His consciousness drifted, and before he knew it, he started dozing off, a deep, restorative sleep pulling him under.
She watched him for a mont, her smile tender, then carefully adjusted him, making sure he was comfortable. She caressed his face, her thumb tracing the faint lines of exhaustion, before giving him another soft kiss on his forehead. Then, with a quiet strength, she tugged him fully into the bed, wrapped her arms around him, pulling him close against her, and held him tight.
In that mont, the world outside—the threats, the worries, the grayed-out na all faded away. And Kenji truly rested, cradled in the warmth of her love, finding peace in the quiet comfort of her embrace.
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