A very special thank to DemonicBallerina, who was kind enough to be our beta-reader for this story, while giving us valuable comments with each chapter. If you're reading this, we salute you and hope you'll renew the experience one day. Who knows, for BCC2 or another one of our project?
Love,
Vanamonde & Elenthya - Words & Worlds Team

Epilogue

"Give me back my memories, whatever the cost may be to me. And you will have my eternal gratitude."

Yori concluded Yuuki's request with a period, made a line break and stopped, pen still in the air. She hesitated several times, suddenly at a loss for words. And finally, her hand came back almost by itself toward the centre of the page to draw the arabesque marking the end of her chapters.

She put down her pen, sighed shakily. Then she leaned back in her chair and held in a pained moan because of her sore back. Slowly, she left her desk and stretched. As always when she stopped her writing sessions, her body seemed stranger to her, numbed by stillness while in her mind, she felt like she had travelled for days without resting. She pushed aside her copper-blonde bangs from her face. Her hands were cold, but her eyes and forehead were burning.

And at the back of her throat, awoken by these memories that didn't belong to her, a well-known sensation -this thirst- gnawing at her...

Yori looked at her disorderly desk, her mind on fire. There were still so many things to do, so many things to write...Their journey back home, hunting for Kaname's murderer.

Their attraction, still barely evoked on paper. So many secrets to reveal...

But this evening - tonight? - she had lost track of time - picking up the pen made her feel strangely weary. With a sigh, she turned away, walked through the bookshelves and reached the massive wooden door.

She extended her hand to the doorknob when suddenly she stilled, a lump in her throat. What was she going to find behind this door? Was it locked, or not? Wasn't it better for her to stay here, ignorant, but safe, blissfully sheltered in her dreams?

She took a deep breath and, with a nervous tic, she pushed away all these memories -hers this time - engulfing her. She grabbed the doorknob and, to her relief, it opened as planned.

Behind the door, no white wall, nor nurses. No stunned screams or escape attempts in the plastic-lined corridors. Only a darkened, familiar corridor.

Reassured, she left the room without turning back.

The house was silent. The heavy drapes were all shut, but a golden sunray sometimes managed to slip through any gaps. She took in the contemplation of the light on the varnished wooden floor, then listened carefully before tiptoeing to the living room. The sound of deep and slow breathing led her to the couch, turned opposite to the door. Stealthily, she stepped in and rose her chin, smiled when she saw the person on the couch, sound asleep.

Still wearing a shirt and dinner suit trousers, his white silk tie barely loosened, Aido seemed to have lain down immediately upon getting home, his priceless jacket thrown on the nearby armchair. An open book laid on his chest, as if he had tried to stay awake, in vain. During his sleep, his head had slightly rolled to the side, and his curly blond hair spread over the leather armrest. His long eyelashes fluttered slightly, and his lips briefly formed a smile, then his breathing quieted again, deeper. She smiled tenderly: what was he dreaming of?

She watched him with impunity, her heart pounding. To see him sleep was a rare privilege -he usually was the first one awake- and she never grew tired of it: in such moments, he would let go of all his charming, carefully tailored ways and his innocent smile then was worth all the posing which made him famous at the Academy.

When she emerged from her reverie, she was already leaning on the couch armchair to watch him as much as she could. Under his alabaster skin, because of the angle of his head exposing his neck, his beating carotid would have been noticeable even to an inattentive human. She gulped, filled with memories, and hesitated for a long time over whether or not reach out to him, wanting to stroke this perfect skin, shivering to the rhythm of his heart. Then she clenched her fist and shook her head, cheekbones reddening. He was sleeping so well...

"...voyeur."

About to slip away, she stilled, looked down. The innocent smile had gone, replaced by another, more pronounced, a bit mischievous. Slowly he opened one eye, and the blue iris watched her, gleaming whimsically in the darkness.

"You weren't asleep, were you?" she whispered.

He nodded ever so slightly.

"Not since you entered the room. You're getting better, but the day when you take me by surprise hasn't come yet."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you up."

He closed his eye, settled back in the hollow of the couch, like a cat huddling up to resume his nap.

"Go on...I don't mind, you know."

He stretched with a deep sigh. She understood what he meant and blushed even more, shaking her head.

"No. Seeing how you fell asleep, this soirée must have been exhausting."

As if to contradict her, she felt a hand close on hers. In a split second, he was sitting, looking up to her. The book fell from the couch with a dull sound, but neither of them reacted.

"Not so much, Yori. It was just boring."

He rose up again, and she stopped thinking, leaned above the couch. Their lips found each other, with a gentleness which surprised her every time, carrying her away. When he slid a hand along her throat then behind her neck, she repressed a sigh, deepened their embrace. Surreptitiously, she felt the more-pronounced edge of his canines reflect his desire. He was good at keeping appearances, but he couldn't hide everything from her: it had been a few days since he last sated his thirst.

Reluctantly, she broke their kiss.

"Aido, I..."

She felt his masculine hands close around her shoulders and back to bring her closer, then her feet left the ground. She let out a surprised yelp. He shushed her with another kiss. The following moment, she was laying on him, dizzy, off-balance. He nestled his face in her copper hair, then laughed as his arms embraced her tightly, possessive.

"For once, you've come out of your cave, let me enjoy it."

She was unable to respond, one of her burning cheeks against his silken shirt. Surrounded by the music of his heart, she closed her eyes and waited. But Aido sighed happily, and slowly she felt him relax under her, without letting her go. Unlike what she had previously thought, he hadn't planned to bite her. Not that she would have minded...she blushed violently at the thought.

Minutes passed, and she relaxed as well, lulled by the music of his heart against her ear. Another kind of heat slowly replaced her embarrassment, and she nestled against him more. She took a deep breath, taking in his familiar, mesmerizing smell.

"Aido…?"

The young man's breath quickened, and she knew he had begun to fall asleep.

"Mmh?"

She straightened up a bit to look for his eyes.

"Thank you. For keeping all this to yourself."

He opened his eyes, looked at her wordlessly, sleepy-looking. Then a gentle, loving smile spread on his usually mischievous lips.

"Anything rather than betray you."

His smile persisted for a few seconds then faded away. He blinked, and frowned.

"But...are you sure? What you're doing with these memories..."

Again, an unusual emotion inside his eyes: worry. It moved her.

"I promised myself, Aido."

"I know that..."

Almost too reverently, he pushed her copper bangs out of her face.

"I know it's important. But will you be able to cope, this time?"

A shadow fell over his blue eyes, and she knew they were both thinking of the same thing, taken back seven years.

Screams, tears. Memories too heavy, too numerous, unbearable. Panic attacks. Inconsiderate gestures, running away. The suicide attempt.

The internment, ruled by Saito Wakaba, Yori's father.

And once the memories had been buried and the stories locked away, the slow, too slow, recovery...

"What if it ends like...like seven years ago?"

Aido's voice, so proud usually, went out in a whisper. He blinked, aware of the importance of the question. Immediately she slid her hand onto his, held it against her cheek.

"Seven years ago, I didn't know what I was doing. And I didn't have you beside me, Aido. I love you. If you can trust me, I will succeed."

He was left speechless, and she blushed even more. While she was at ease in writing such speeches, she usually couldn't bring herself to say this out loud.

Then he chuckled and hugged her with unexpected strength. Pressed against him, breath taken away, she heard him whisper against her hair, which he kissed fervently.

"Idiot...Idiot. Of course I trust you."

Blushing, she curled up against him again and sighed. Yes, she was thankful for him being here. To help her, to keep the secret of her ongoing project. To apologize for her when she disappeared without warning, or during lunch meetings where they were both invited and she was conspicuously absent.

Supporting her...loving her.

"'Until death do us part, and even beyond' ...Do you remember?"

She smiled. She opened her eyes and stroked the wedding ring on his hand, the same that the one adorning her own finger for two years now.

"Yori...please. It's been several days..."

She gulped with apprehension but nodded. She rose up to be above him and immediately he captured her lips, his arms sliding from her neck to her slender waist to press her even more against him. She shuddered, held back a sigh of pleasure when, slowly, he broke the kiss, teasing her ear with his breath. She nestled her face in Aido's neck, shuddering.

"Allow me to do a bit more. For you," he whispered.

A tongue tasted the offered skin. Their two breaths quickened in unison. A moan, both surprised and hurried.

Then Yori sank her teeth in her lover's tender flesh. He shuddered but tightened his embrace. Blood ran on her tongue, familiar, voluptuous. Like each time, she tasted this surprising tenderness he had for her, this unexpected and shared love which had only grown stronger through the years.

Exalted, she let herself go.

.

.

"Yori!"

Vertigo. Nausea. Pain.

"Yori, open your eyes! Please!"

She was grabbed, carried, long enough to put something against her head to hold it. Hands fluttered on her wounds, distraught, as if unable to choose which one to treat first. There were so many...

Pain, atrocious, everywhere...yet fading away, so slowly. Her breath slowed. Her heart was pounding, distraught too. Yet, a nefarious torpor numbed her senses.

"Yori! YORI!"

She opened her eyes with difficulty, but her vision was getting darker. She had trouble recognizing the one looming over her but identified her by her silhouette, the sound of her voice.

"Yori, I'm sorry...so sorry..."

Yuuki. She was crying.

She wanted to comfort her; tell her it didn't hurt anymore. That her torture would soon end, and that it was all that mattered now. But words failed her. Her voice had gone out, just like her pain.

Serene, she closed her eyes.

"Oh no, no! Yori…! Yori!"

Her heart finally slowed down. The void was submerging her.

And then pain, again. A different one. On her wrist. A cautious mouthful, barely a sip. Then her limp arm was put down.

"Yori...please..."

Another biting sound, more distant, but she felt nothing this time. Then silence. A hand gently grabbed her chin, and warm lips pressed against her icy ones: a warm liquid slid on her tongue, strong and metallic. She wasn't strong enough to react, and, about to suffocate, managed with an immense effort to swallow. Once, twice. Thrice.

The lips moved away. Hands grabbed her cheeks, shaking, while she felt a forehead pressed against hers.

"I'm sorry, Yori...I'm sorry! But I cannot let you die...I swore to never force this life onto anyone...but at least, you won't suffer anymore. I have to go now. But you took my blood, so everything will be fine. And Zero will come, I know he'll take care of you...He'll feed you, he'll protect you."

Cold drops landed on her cheekbones. Tears.

"Tell him...tell him everything you know. Everything I feel for him. He will resent me for that, I'm sure. But ask him to forgive me...and you too, Yori...forgive me."

.

.

.

"Yori…?"

Aido's blood had ceased to flow. She pulled back her fangs but kept her lips sealed on his skin, careful not to waste a drop. Then, when the two cuts were about to heal, she left his throat, putting her head on his broad shoulder, eyes closed.

Silent, she savoured the effect this much-loved blood gave in her flesh. Indescribable. Both the same and different from anything she could ever experience through the memories...

Aido's blood. It was the only blood that could compare with Yuuki's, the Pureblood who changed her. The one who, through an inexplicable twist of fate, had awoken a strange -and terrible- power inside her...

Yuuki...

She whispered in a voice so hoarse, so plaintive, that in other circumstances, she would have been ashamed.

"Aido, are you alright?"

His only answer was a reverent kiss on her forehead.

"You always leave more than enough for me. Rest."

She sighed contentedly. Now that the thirst was fading away, there was nothing to keep at bay the exhaustion accumulated those last few days, and sleep was taking hold of her. Yet she struggled.

"But, what about you...?"

"Later. Sleep."

With a groan, he stretched underneath her and, opening her eyes a bit, she saw him grab the vest on the nearby armchair to cover her up. Wrapped in his smell and warmth, curled up against him, she would have liked to let herself go.

Alas, it was without the memories inside her.

"Yori!"

"Yori...forgive me."

Hers, and others.

She bit her lips as tears came to her.

"Thank you, Hanabusa...for understanding."

He sighed, amused, and wrapped a protective arm around her frail shoulders.

"You'll thank me later. Sleep, I said."

She nodded silently, but in her half-consciousness, she couldn't remain proud and strong. When her tears slid down her cheek and soaked Aido's shirt, he shuddered.

"Yori…?"

"I miss her, you know...I miss them both. Zero...and Yuuki."

She gave a muffled sob, and Aido gently tightened his embrace.

"It's been so long...and though I know they must be better where they are now, I...I miss them so much! And before she left, I wish..."

"Forgive me, Yori."

"I wish I could have told her I don't resent her...for transforming me. I never could..."

"I know, Yori. That's why you write. To get over their absence, to dominate this power. To soothe the memories they left you. To tell why Kaname died, and to prevent such a tragedy from repeating itself. I know all this..."

With one hand, he unmade his white silken tie, held it to her so she could wipe her tears. She couldn't resist, and buried her face in the soft fabric, filled with his smell.

"Sleep, now. I'm here."

His calm voice became the echo of the blood he gave her. He was there, and would always be there...

She closed her eyelids. As she progressively assimilated the beloved essence, the memories were finally fading away, replaced by her husband's. Against her ear, his chest was rising in a steady rhythm, lulling her to sleep. Aido's heart was beating, soothing, surrounding her with its muffled song. She gave in to it.

In a corner of her mind, mountains and snowy forests were passing indefinitely under an azure sky. Sitting near a window, safe from the wind and the cold, a familiar brown-haired woman was staring at the white landscape in silence.

In a seat in front of her, a man seemingly asleep, arms crossed, his hand nonchalantly on the silver gun in his chest holster. When he opened his eyes, he saw that she had stopped watching the landscape to stare at him in silence.

They exchanged a single gaze. She nodded slightly, and he blinked knowingly.

Then she went back to the icy lands as he closed his eyes again, his senses alert. At the doors of sleep, Yori smiled faintly at them.

She wouldn't fail again. She would write, again and again, about them, their quest, their bond. Nothing could stop her anymore. And Hanabusa was watching over her...if she lost herself one day against the violence of the memories, he would know what to do.

Distant, muffled, the old voices were whispering at the edge of her dreams, carrying images and pictures that she, for the most of them, never saw herself.

"We can try to give you back your memory, Yuuki, but it's not a precise procedure."

"Do it, Kaien. I prepared myself for it."

"It might be painful."

"...I've outlived far worse."

A tribunal. Dozens of Purebloods and Aristocrats, silent, disapproving. Facing them, Zero and Yuuki. Alone against the world, but unshakable.

"In the name of my brother, I come to seek revenge for the unspeakable crimes against my family. May everyone here take heed of my oath: I will not rest until the one responsible is punished as they deserve it."

A long road filled with still-untold dangers.

"Yuuki, Kaname's murderer can only be..."

A truth long since unveiled, causing as much suffering as relief, that Yori had to put into words, into concrete images.

Until this memory of blood, they gave her could finally be appeased.

"Yori, open your eyes!"

"Forgive me, Yori... you will live, but forgive me..."

A jail. A hopeless prison. This dark place where she became a vampire...

Yuuki's sacrifice to spare her. Her return to civilization, now a vampire, stable but lost without her mistress...

"Zero...Zero, it's you!"

"Yori...Where's Yuuki?"

"She stayed there. She stayed with them...Find her, Zero! Find her..."

"She's the one who...changed you, isn't she?"

Until the memories may rest in peace, too.

Dusk. An old mansion, far from everything and everyone. An exhausted life, a soul about to flicker away.

"Zero...what if I forgot everything, what if I chose to run away, to begin anew...would you stay with me?"

"Is it what you want, Yuuki?"

To write these bloody chronicles which had been tormenting her for so long. To give these memories to the ink and paper, to finally be free of them. Only then would Yori finally live for herself, fully.

Serene. As they probably were, somewhere. Out of reach.

Somewhere else. Together.

"My life belongs to you, Yuuki. Ever since the first day. And forever."

Once more, she felt tears rising up, tears that did not belong to her. As if moved by a feeling, Aido tightened his embrace.

And, a smile on her face, Yori fell into a deep slumber.

Hello, dear readers, this is Vanamonde speaking, your friendly translator.
Back in November 2017, I was alone and bored in Quebec, Canada. So I thought it would be a good idea to re-read one of my favourite unfinished VK fanfics from back in the day.
And here we are, more than a year later, with said fic completely translated and published! This has been a labour of love, one I couldn't have done alone. For this ultimate chapter, I would like to thank DemonicBallerina, who provided a tremendous help into making the text go from "French person translating into English" into "Legitimate English". I can't thank her enough!
I would also like to thank Wordreference, Linguee and the Merriam-Webster Thesaurus, without which none of this would have been possible. Also thank you to the numerous VK fanfics I read through my formative years: without you, I wouldn't have made big progress in English Class, wouldn't have majored in English Literature and thus wouldn't have been able to do the third of what I've done on Bloody Cross Chronicles. Reading fanfics can have unexpected results!
And, lastly, thank you to Elenthya for writing such a great piece of fanfiction. With the state the manga's in right now (...which had been the norm for quite a few years, sadly), we have to rely on fanfictions to provide great stories fit for our beloved characters. Bloody Cross Chronicles is such a fic.

But this is not the end. As you may know, act 2 of BCC is currently being written, and in the meantime, you'll get a one-shot starring everybody's favourite B-couple: Aido and Yori.
But...I want you to know translating is hard work. Hard work I gladly did when I was young and innocent and had no idea what "translating 200 000 words" really meant. The rest, dear readers, is up to you. Should I translate the sequel went it will come out?
Be vocal. Let yourselves be heard. Otherwise I may assume it is not worth the trouble, and merely enjoy BCC2 in French, as a fan, and not as a translator.
The decision is yours. No pressure! :-p
With love,
Vanamonde

xxxxx

Hey! Elenthya here, BCC's original author. Apparently, it's time to bring out the tissues...so, here I am! 🙂

When one of my adorable readers suddenly announced me, some 4th January 2018, that she had started translating BCC, I was astonished. Then impressed. Then delighted! Then, I have to say, a bit afraid. Let me explain...

Writing a story and publishing it is to expose oneself to a lot of setbacks and even cruel disappointements. It means facing criticism, but also to the indifferent silence of a fandom you love. I've been publishing for 15 years now (half my life!), so I got used to it, and since I'm still at it, it musn't be so bad!

But learning that someone wanted to translate my story has been the source of an incredible pride...and, briefly, terror. What if it was badly done? What if it was never completed? What if the person had bad intentions, wasn't serious? I'm a perfectionist, and BCC is, so to say, my baby, my first child. To see it go into the hands of a stranger to reach the English-speaking world was almost heart-breaking...like a mother watching her child going on a trip without her.

Fortunately, it was Vanamonde BCC went on a trip with. A passionate VK fan, but also a fan of BCC ever since its first publication in 2008. Someone I learnt to know and who, quite naturally, fit into my small world of an amateur writer with her fervour, her kindness, her knowledge in litterature and her seriousness. Someone I'm now proud, happy and thankful to count among my closests friends.
With Vana, my wee BCC has grown up, more beautiful, and is now ready to go into war for the second act! With Vana, the Words & Worlds team is born, and we're not stopping anytime soon!

The BCC project went far beyond my expectations, weither writing-wise or on a personal aspect. It's only making me more eager to finally write the sequel, that has been growing steadily for 10 years inside my mind. The team is here to support me, and I will do my best to tell them what happens next to Zero, Yuuki, Yori and all the others!

And you, who are reading those lines, today, tomorrow, in a year? What are you waiting for to make yourself known? The Team thrives from our past experiences and the comments we recieve. Think about it, before leaving this page and closing our book: I'm writing BCC2 with my heart and my mind, with my blood and my guts. It's never too early or too late to give me a sign, to tell me you're waiting for it, too.

I bow out to you. Thank you for reading this, and, hopefully, see you soon!

Love,
Elenthya