AN: Hello my dear kind patient readers who I love forever and always for bearing with the utter disgrace I, this ever lacking writer, continue to be...

I hope this passage is a good length to satisfy for a bit, but in all honesty, I'm still trying to figure out how to connect point D to point K, and I'm still only a few days into this mystery! (I finally understand why movies are somehow able to have a complete romance and plot even though they progress over the course of just a few days... It always annoyed me growing up, but I get it now. I'll work on spreading this out further though. Again, thank you for bearing with me!)
So anyhow, without further ado, please enjoy this update. ^-^

You wake before the sun rises strangely enough, but this works. The birds slowly begin to chirp the morning day song when you step out and remember you have a guest to consider. You quietly open your door and walk down the hall towards the kitchen, careful to not wake Shiki or your mother. You however are surprised to see the couch unoccupied, and the blankets all folded into a neat pile. You look around, but come to the conclusion that he must have decided to leave once you and your mother were asleep. You'll find him though. You know you will.

Without another thought, you begin to boil some water and look for what breakfast to make. Mr. Tsukino's loaves are still good, so you decide now is as good a time as ever to make some French toast. While you are busy scrambling some eggs for the dip, unbeknownst to you, Shiki is busy trying to evade your mother's intrusive questions.

"Ma'am, I'm unsure as to what you mean. I'm 18 years old, in my final year at Cross Academy. I've heard I resemble my father quite closely, but it'd be impossible for me to be the same Shiki Senri you remember."

Just as his ever unfazed face frustrates you to no end, so does it frustrate your mother.

"I'm a physician. I've seen children look like their parents, but this level of resemblance is unnatural. I cannot accept that you simply look like your father!"

"But you can accept me being twice my age and not having aged at all?"

Your mother's lips tighten angrily as she bites her tongue so as to not scream in frustration, but she must concede defeat. None of this makes sense. But neither does his appearance in your family's life.

"Fine. You are the son of the Senri Shiki I knew. But what do you have to do with my daughter? Your family is pure nobles. We're simple commoners with nothing to do with your kind."

"There is no connection, ma'am. I simply went to my cousin Yuko to request a favor from her, and felt that you might be in need of an escort considering the lateness of the night."

"If my daughter did that, there would be consequences for staying at a stranger's home without warning. And all night too! Your father will be very upset at you once you get home."

Without a beat, Shiki turns to look out the window as he quietly replies, "he can't get mad if he's already dead."

With those words, it's almost as of all the air in your mother was pushed out. She becomes lightheaded as she opens her mouth in response but nothing comes out. The only image goes to her dearly deceased husband, followed by an older looking version of the boy before her, both dead on the ground. She blinks rapidly as she tries to fight the tears. In a wavering voice, she asks, "He died...? How?"

He responds that he had a heart attack a few years ago.

"A heart attack? He was so young. Did he develop bad health habits? Or was he under a lot of stress?"

Shiki had realized she recognizes him, but he never expected that she would be so... inquisitive over his fate. All others would simply accept his heart attack excuse, and give their condolences. Sometimes some would remained amazed at how much he looked like his father—if they only knew—but then have the audacity to talk about how close they had been, and how they hoped to continue that relationship with him.

He stares at her inquisitively, then remembers his promise.

"It wasn't too long ago he passed—about three years ago. But he met Mr. (L.N.) before then. They had become quite close in the years before their passing, and I came to consider him a good friend myself. I'm very sorry for your loss, if I may add."

He backs off then, realizing she's not handling it too well. The fact that both the loves of her lives knew each other, and so well at that, is a bit upsetting to her. More so because she never knew about their connection. First the hunter life that she never understood. She thought they were literal hunters who went tracking deer and other game to sell or for the skins even. But no, vampire hunters! And then finding out he'd been training her precious child for such a dangerous life behind her back. And now this! How did they meet? Why? Was the Sr. Shiki a hunter too? Too many questions bombard her thoughts at this knowledge and it takes all she can do to keep from breaking down in front of the boy before her. Instead she asks him to please leave so she can get ready for the day.

He leaves immediately, understanding she needs space and heads towards the sounds in the kitchen. There Shiki finds you just finishing frying up the French toast, and prepping some strawberry syrup in a container next to the regular maple syrup and chocolate drizzle.

"Bit of a chef, are we?" He asks coolly as he leans on the counter near you.

You don't look at him, though you are more than a bit surprised to see him still here. Instead you put the hottest piece on a plate, sprinkle some powdered sugar over it, and hand it over with a fork on the side.

"There's syrup already here, but if you'd like anything else, let me know. We also have water, orange juice, and milk if you'd like something to drink."

"Water is fine, thank you," he says as he pours a significant amount of chocolate over his toast. You realized he had a sweet tooth when you met him, but now this is ridiculous! The cocoa to make chocolate isn't cheap, and he's pouring it on as if it's easy to replace. Your eyebrow pops up in annoyance, but you tighten your jaw to keep from voicing your grievance. He's a guest after all, and you can't be rude to guests. Typically...

"Mm, not bad. You can get married now," he comments after digging into the bread.

You roll your eyes as you hand him the water and respond, "how can you tell? It's pretty much pure chocolate at this point."

He dips his finger into the chocolate and tastes just the pure sweet topping. He shakes his head and responds, "No, I can tell. The sweetness of the chocolate gets dulled a little by the bread, and there's a richness to the way you prepared it. It completely changes the flavor of the chocolate, though if it makes you feel better, I'll taste the bread alone."

And just like that, he grabs a hold of your hand and pops the piece of bread on your folk into his mouth, essentially making you spoon feed him. There's something so intimate about how he does it, and he doesn't care. The rational part of your brain gets perturbed at his actions, but the part that takes over makes you chuckle and enjoy the closeness. The dream you had the night before doesn't seem like much of a dream in this instant.

Last night, you dreamed your father was back and he was busy laughing with Shiki over dinner. Shiki's usual apathetic self was still there, but there was a warmth to his eyes as he talked to your father, and a fire there when he turned and looked at you from across the room. You walked in with a cake all lit up and carefully sang happy birthday as you walked forward. Your mom blew out the surrounding candles then to allow just the glow of the cake to light up the room. Your mom walked over and hugged your father, his soft green fleece hanging over her frame so perfectly. You in turn sat next to Shiki and turned to sing to him. He smiled warmly at you as he grabbed your hand and kissed your knuckle. A matching pair of silver rings was on the both of you, shining even brighter and clearer than the red string of fate around your parents' pinkies. When you all finished singing, Shiki snaked his fingers into your hair and pulled you in for a kiss.

When he pulled away, you heard his promise: I will help and support you. But this time you didn't shy away from it. And this time, this version of your parents looked on with a pleased look on their faces. They knew you weren't alone, and they were happy he was the one you chose.

When you woke up, you knew it was bad. You knew you fell much too quickly, but you couldn't help it. What's wrong with being a little normal. What's wrong with being a little silly. You needed this in all honesty. You felt so alone, and this was a welcome distraction. You know it'll never be anything, but it's nice to pretend. Now, in this moment, it's nice to imagine this intimacy is just an extension of your dream. You know it's not reality, but is it really so wrong to enjoy it while the fantasy can last?

"Yup, delicious with or without the sweets," he says after swallowing. Then in a very deadpan voice he adds, "But I need the sugar to stay up at all. Can't you tell I'm just brimming with energy now."

You snort unexpectedly at that last statement and almost choke on the bread you had just started swallowing. The scare passes quickly though and soon you only hold your hand over your mouth to hold the laughter in. You shake your head, wiping under your eye from trying so hard to contain your laughter and tell him, "I swear, sir. I can't tell what to make of you. But I like this silly you more than the snarky you."

"I guess we just finally had to get to know each other," he says with a shrug.

Your mouth runs dry and you twist your mouth in thought as you consider his words. However, you make no comment. No need to break the fantasy just yet. At least not in that regard.

"Ok, well getting to know someone is a two way streak. You seem to know a lot about me. But I know nothing of you. Care to enlighten me?"

"I'm a very sleepy guy who likes soft things I can cuddle with, and sweet treats to give me energy. Honestly, there's not much to me."

"Well what about your family? You seem close to your cousin after all if you went in person to make an expensive custom order instead of just waiting until Yuko's usual market day."

"Yes... She and I very close.. We're not actually related, but I see her like family. Also saying that stops people from asking if she's to marry me."

Shiki shrugs nonchalantly at the last point, and you smile despite yourself. He's making this fantasy too hard to let go of. But then, "why spend so much money then?"

"Please. I've spent more on good curtains and extra fluffy pillows. This is nothing in comparison. My sleep is very precious to me I'll have you know."

"Seriously? Yuko's china sets can be really expensive. I doubt there's any curtains or pillows that expensive."

"The thread count for my sheets easily make their value at the minimum three times more expensive than her most expensive set. And I buy a new set almost every month."

"A new set of china?" You bawk.

"A new set of sheets," he smirks. "Let me know if you ever want to try them."

This dream has taken a turn you weren't expecting. Though it wouldn't be unwelcome in dreamland, the real you immediately flushes and turns to hide behind a cabinet. You didn't pay attention to what you opened, and hopelessly paw around the measuring cups as you think of an excuse as to what you're looking for.

"Your father was right. You are very scatter brained."

Immediately your hands still and your breath catches in your throat. You stare blankly at the ticks on the clear glass at eye level as you let those words sink in.

Your father.

He was right.

'He knew my dad?'

You lick your lips absently, your mouth suddenly very dry. Your hands shake as you close the cabinet before you and move towards the pitcher for some water. You try to pull a glass down, but your hands shake too much.

'He knew my dad.'

How did he know him? Why? Your father is—was—a hunter, and you seriously doubt Shiki is too. Though you've had your suspicions as to what exactly he is since you met him, you refuse to consider the possibility now at the risk of what this could mean.

"I'm going to have to ask you to leave now," you say in a voice just above a whisper.

Your father trusted you. He trusted you with with his responsibility. He trusted you to care for your mother. He trusted you to care for the people of your home.

"My mother and I have a lot of business to attend to today."

How could he tell others of you, but keep themfrom you?

"I'm sorry for the rush. There's a lot of sick people, and I didn't want to kick you out..."

What else did he hide from you? What else were you going to have to discover about him from someone who was no one to either your life or your mother's.

"But it's already well past time for us to leave."

You can't face Shiki. His hands are the most you can make out of him, but looking directly at him means looking with a new light. It means seeing a new person. It means seeing someone else. Possibly someone who knew your father better than you thought you ever did.

"I understand," his melancholic voice lulls out as he slowly raises up. Did he sound sad earlier? Was this a new thing? Were your fantasy thoughts coloring your perception of his words and actions? No, impossible.

You swallow harshly, trying to get rid of the sudden lump making it hard to breathe.

You stare past him as he half bows with a flourish, no mockery in his actions as he wishes you well. His arm rests over his heart as he deepens it slightly, then straightens out.

"I hope no one is too sick. But keep me updated. You'll be able to find out more than I can going into the town as often as you do."

A slight puff of air escapes from your nose as your lips pull into a small smile. You'd figure he'd go more often considering his expenses, but it seems not. Your eyes momentarily start to wander, but as his lips come into view, his body shifts away from you and quickly heads to the front entrance. Your hands grip tightly to the counter. You don't say your goodbye as you don't trust your voice to work properly, but only look wistfully after him. Your knuckles burn, wishing for the promised kiss your dream coddled them with. But that will never happen. It can't. Not if he's what you think he is. Not if he's what you fear he might be.

When you hear the door close moments later, you take in a sharp gasp. You couldn't breath, your thoughts too focused on him, your whole body too affected by his presence. And as the air makes its steady way into your lungs, your eyes start to burn.

Memories of your father always brought such joy, but now you look at them with a sense of distrust. What else did he keep hidden from you? Did he keep you in the dark as much as he did your mother? Speaking of, you wonder where she is as Shiki seemed to have come from that portion of the house. Did they speak?

So many questions buzz through your head as you walk towards your mother's room. You stop before entering upon hearing your mom's muffled sobs from the other side of the door.

'Seeing Shiki in dad's shirt must've affected her too,' you think to yourself sadly. You wait to see if her crying will settle down soon, but decide better to look over the book Mr. Anyala lent you last time you saw him. The inside is full of words following by simple drawings of people and how their hands should move for the various signs.

Yuko may be teaching you sign language as best she can, but there were many times your lack of knowledge made it difficult for you to understand her. She then directed you to Mr. Anyala, the nearest translator who helped the small deaf community in your town. Most of the deaf families lived on the outskirts of town, forming their own little hamlet to the west. There were a few other deaf individuals that lived among the hearing citizens, but so few people knew sign, those individuals would move to the hamlet to live with others similar to themselves. Mr. Anyala was one of the few citizens of town who wanted to learn sign language to help. His young neighbor felt very unhappy when they moved there, and in his efforts to learn and be able to communicate with her, he built a strong relationship with her family. Yuko's mother and him became very best friends, and he became a father figure to Yuko when her dad, Mr. Kurosawa, disappeared. You don't know if Yuko would mind you knowing about her history in such detail, but Mr. Anyala cared deeply for her—as much as his own child—and would constantly praise what a strong, independent woman she'd grown up to be. He valued your effort to learn how to communicate, and encouraged you to learn even more so that you could help translate for your mother when his weary old bones had too much difficulty to continue traveling so much. Yuko grew very sad whenever you would mention any of those particular remarks he would make, so you stopped mentioning him as much. But she would always ask, 'How's Dad?'

You consider now what you most want to say next time you see Yuko. "I'm a gossiper. What did the weirdo say?" Then you laugh as you realize you can't be so rude. Plus, will "weirdo" be in there anyways? You shuffle through the pages and alas, there is no entry for weirdo. But the entry for gossip, the closest to gossip you can find, is a very peculiar image. The man in question is drawn with his hands moving in a circle, but there are small arrows around the circle which makes you question what you're to do. Are you supposed to swing your wrists up and down as you move them around in a circle? As you try that form, you think you look more like a person trying to do the chicken dance, and figure that can't be it. Maybe if you move your hands in a sewing motion? You look at yourself in the mirror, and get no inclination of how it can mean "gossip." Finally, you think maybe it's like "more," and you need to tap your fingers up and down as you move your arms in a circle. You do it twice, and then it clicks! Your hands are like people going around and chattering about the latest gossip! You make a mental note to ask Mr. Anyala if you're doing it correctly next time you see him, but for now you continue looking through the dictionary to try to articulate your question.

After some time, you finally have your question and statement structured. You head to the mirror and then practice.

First you do the pinching circles of gossip you had figured out earlier. Following that, you do the "person" indicator by moving your hands straight down in front of your body. Next you point to your chest to make clear you're referring to yourself. You pause for a moment, then shake your hands palm up side to side and keep your eyebrows raised to indicate a question. Next you tap your chin with your dominat pointer finger, throw your hand in a curled claw shape in front of your face and finish with the person marker again.

Sign language grammer is different than how you speak, but it makes sense.

Gossip person me. What say weird person?

You have to have better comminication with Yuko. And damn Shiki needs to stop making fun of your "accent."

With this focus, you make your way to the kitchen and make two cups of black tea. Whenever your mother cries as she was doing when you heard, she needs something soothing, yet also something that will make her alert. Hot tea always helps her relax and destress. But with how early it is, you'll both definitely need the energy boost. Black over green, you decide as you add double the mix into a beautiful tea pot with dainty flowers blooming from the handle, wrapping around the pot, and petals revolving around the tip of the spout. You hold it from the handle once ready, but keep a numb hand over the base to warm up. It's hot; normally it would burn you but you have so much on your mind.

How could Shiki know so much about you? How could your father tell a stranger about you. Now that you think about it, why would he tell someone so young about you? Shiki couldn't be even two years older than you yet he somehow knew your father? There's no way.

You pour the tea, your hand twitching as your fingers fight to move. Your pointer and thumb while you begin to pour. Your pinky jumps up, causing a few drops to spill. Your whole hand clenches, as does your jaw. Your middle finger slides over the nail of your pointer finger as you put the pot down.

You take a shaky breath in, wanting this to be less confusing. Wanting to think of over things but there's an anger burning in you now. Your mother can't know about this either. She would be catatonic that being the case. But she is crying...

And she hasn't come out yet.

It's been a while and Shiki never give any hint that he even talked to your mother. Maybe you're overanalyzing. Maybe you're too in your thoughts and you're making a mountain out of a mole hole. But as you blink the oncoming stress tears away and pour another cup for yourself, you realize the only way you can get past this is to just talk to your mom. See how she's doing, and why she cried. Maybe it was what you were thinking earlier, and she did just get strongly affected seeing Shiki in dad's shirt. Maybe it has nothing to do with Shiki at all and maybe she just misses dad. Or even the cases! There were so many cases all of a sudden. Maybe she's stressed there.

Yeah, that's what it is. You're positive! You have to believe it or else... 'No, that's what it is,' you force yourself to believe as you grab one of the cups and begin walking to your mother's room. Before you can even reach the door however, she comes out.

"Good morning, honey," she says with a bright smile. Her eyes are red and puffy, but you chose not to comment on it.

"Morning, mom. I made you tea."

She quickly takes it into her hands and barely blows before taking a big gulp. You stifle down your amusement as you watch her struggle then with the burn her tongue is sure to have now.

"I would say why didn't you remind me it's hot, but then I should know better with how often I have to see patients with the same kind of burns," she mumbles more to herself than anything.

You shrug towards the kitchen, and beckon your mother forward. "Come on, I made breakfast. The bread should help."

She nods, walking after you but already blowing on the liquid to take another sip. You give a slight shake of your head but feel a smile coming on regardless. As you prepare a plate for her, she looks around anxiously. FInally she asks, "Where's your boyfriend, honey?"

You don't pay too much attention to her words, too absorbed with trying to focus on one thing at a time to control your emotions still.

'Bread, syrup, bread, syrup,' you chant to yourself to keep focused. It isn't until she says it a third time when you're passing her the plate her question finally registers.

"Shiki left already."

As soon as the words leave your mouth, a particular portion of the question stands out causing your face to burn bright red as your mother smirks devilishly at you over the rim of her cup. You can barely make out the puffiness from her crying session earlier as joy overcomes her features. If only you knew internally her heart was breaking for you.

'Of all people, him... Him!'

"So was he too scared of having breakfast with his mother-in-law, or did he get the sense to go home before the school missed him too much?"

"Mom!" You exclaim in embarrassment. Your flustered reaction always makes her cackle, and cackle she does as she watches you hide your face in a cupboard once more. Though she won't know about the earlier situation if you can help it. She can't know about Shiki's relationship with dad. Not now, not ever, you deicide with firm resolutuion. So you let her have her fun. You go along with her antics meant to tease you yet promising the normalcy she's lost.

At one time, a long time ago, the thought of you dating terrified her. Now, she prays you find someone so things can go back to how they once were. Even if that someone reminds her of the man she once loved. Memories play behind her lids as she stares off into space, wondering where the years went, wondering if things would have gone differently if she stayed home and never met your father.

Rays of light break through the overcast morning and seep into the room, bringing warmth and the reminder that life goes on. No matter the feelings, or the worries, it will continue in spite of you so you must continue in spite of everything too.

You both gather your items for the day. You your shawl and lotion, your mother her equipment, antibiotic ointments, and wraps. The travel along to Yuko's place is quiet, both of you too absorbed in the new shocking information you each received this morning, but not thinking the other would realize.

The crest of Yuko's home comes into view but something seems off to you. Wan-Pi, Yuko's white cat is on top of the gate, unmoving and staring intensely towards the wooded area to the side of Yuko's home. It seems agitated, but more preparing to pounce rather than generally upset. There must be some rodent, or a bird it has its eyes on, but something feels so wrong. The kitty is normally so docile...

You want to say something to your mother, but she'll be sure to say you're just trying to get out of coming again since you made it so clear you wanted to go help her the last time you spoke out. You debate voicing your request but a stiffling, building terror begins to build in your throat, threatning to release as a scream if you so much as open your mouth to inhale. It must be the stress from this morning, the whisper of Shiki's words slithering in your brain once more. It must be the uncertainty he caused, attacking you once more.

You allow your mother to walk ahead of you, not wanting her to see your steps falter, or the way your hands begin to shake as his words hit you again. This is not good. Not good at all. You're supposed to help Yuko paint the delicate images that require a steady hand! You can't help her in this condition, but you can't tell your mother why you can't help her either. You try to think of a way to calm yourself, to get out of this, but anger builds low in the pit of your stomach. You're so frustrated. You want to understand. You want to be heard. You want to know what's going on. You want to lash out. You want the damn hum to go away!

The gentle knock, knock of your mother knocks you out of your reverie. You are attacked with the sudden thought, "She can't hear it... Why isn't she here already?"

Ice runs through your veins as you wait with an unconsciously held breath. You start to feel lightheaded. Your eyes water. Then suddenly the white kitty which was so alert before comes prancing towards you with an easy going gait. Its tail swishes against your foot, grabbing your attention, looking at you with expectancy. You find yourself smiling at the creature and pick it up, glad to get to rub its fur. The softness of its body, and the pliant push of its flesh as you stroke its back, down to its tail, helps relax you. Your mother turns to you, giving a slight look of disdain towards the feline but finding herself rubbing its head when it shifts its chin up towards her. It begins to purr, the vibrations jolting your fingers and bringing you such a sense of peace. It's been a while, but somehow Wan-Pi keeps you from realizing.

When Yuko opens the door, her eyes look swollen, and her nose red. She smiles weakly and raises her hand to say hello, but then woefully moves her fist in a circle around her chest. Half of her body is still hidden behind the door as she turns to cough behind her. She taps a finger against her stomach and forehead twice at the same time, then places her palm over her chest. The one hand she has visible ahead, she positions it as a "Y" sign and drags it down parallel to her torso before switching it to a pointed index finger and sliding it in an arc from her right shoulder across her body. She then flicks her thumb forward from under her pale chin, and holding her fingers in a "Y" position again, points to the side and then uses her index finger to point at you. The one half sign you instantly recognize is "today" as she moves her hand like a clock, her elbow in place, but her pointer finger pointed up then quickly arching to the left until her forearm is parallel to the floor.

"Hello. I'm sorry, I'm sick. You can't stay today."

"Are you ok?" your mother asks, a frown upon her lips as she looks over the pale woman. You can see your mother shift into medical mode as her eyes roam over what she can see of Yuko, accessing what she can but wanting to do a more thorough check. Her hands begin to shift as she quietly mouths her words with her movements. She taps her nose, and swishes it down and over her left palm as if swiping through pages of a book. She points at Yuko, then nods as she knocks twice in the air in front of herself, eyebrows scrunched in worry.

"Let me check you, yeah?"

Yuko shakes her head, then swishes her hand around. Her pinky does a small arch down and to the side, the rest of her hand staying in a fist. She then taps her forehead once more, and moves the same hand in a half gesture. Her fingers are pinched together, and she shakes her hand to the side, as if moving a cloth down the clothesline twice.

"I'm just a little sick. It's nothing."

She pulls her fist back down to belly level, her pointer finger flicking up twice, then taps against her other pointer finger once. She then positions her palm over her chest before she taps her chin and pulls her hand away.

"Thank you for coming."

Your mother looks her over hesitantly then lets out a strangled, "ok... But if you need us..."

She lets her words hang in the air, knowing there's nothing else she can add. Yuko lives alone, and away from everyone else. Who is going to be able to pass a message along for her? Wan-pi can't very well run from this house all the way to wherever it is in town the two of you find yourselves at if needed. You almost don't want to leave except Yuko fixes a fiery look on you, then when your mother has her back to her, mouths "go."

She'd never done that before, and it startles you. You only find yourself nodding as you walk backwards, questioning if she really told you that and watching as she slowly shuts the door behind her. But it's not fully closed. You turn, and it's when you stumble and hear and jingling in your hands that you remember you still hold Wan-pi in your grasp.

You stop to put the kitty gently down, and then run to catch up to your mother. If you had turned back around, you would have seen how Wan-pi simply stared at the trees once again, a misty haze beging to seep out from that spot the she stared down so hard. You would have seen Yuko, glancing out from her window nervously before heading towards the kitchen...

End Note: So, clearly I don't know much sign and my descriptions in regards to the signs used are probably not the best. If you know ASL, please correct the errors you see. I want to make this as accurate and realistic as possible.

If you don't but would like to see what I used, the links to the specific signs I was referencing are available on the ao3 post.