The air between them was heavy — not just with silence, but with everything that had been left unsaid.
Ren could still feel the warmth of Ayame's hand on his shoulder, even after she let go. It wasn't just a touch — it was a line drawn across a battlefield, a quiet promise that maybe, just maybe, they didn't have to be enemies.
But hope was a dangerous thing for someone like him.
He looked away, stepping back, trying to ignore the way his instincts warred with his thoughts. The thirst, the fury, the ache of change still churned beneath his skin like a caged storm. Every heartbeat echoed in his ears, not just hers — his own, ragged and uncertain.
"I don't understand you," he said finally, his voice low. "You were going to kill me."
Ayame didn't flinch. She stood tall, arms crossed, the sunlight bleeding through the trees behind her, casting her in pale gold.
"I was," she admitted. "Because that's what I was taught. Vampires are threats. Monsters. But you…" She shook her head slightly. "You hesitated. You protected that boy in the village. And you could've killed me last night, but you didn't."
Ren's jaw clenched. The memory of that boy — terrified, clinging to his mother while Ren struggled not to lose control — flickered behind his eyes. He didn't want to be remembered for the monster he almost became. He wanted to be something else.
But the problem was, he didn't know what that something was yet.
"I'm not a hero," he muttered.
"No," Ayame agreed softly. "But you're not a monster either."
A bird cawed overhead, and the forest swayed gently in the wind. But something in the air shifted — a pulse of cold dread that made Ren's senses spike.
He turned sharply. "We're not alone."
Ayame reached for the twin daggers at her belt. "How many?"
Ren closed his eyes, focusing. His hearing sharpened. His sense of smell picked up the faint copper scent of blood, not fresh… but recent.
"Three," he said. "Circle scouts. Fast."
Ayame's face darkened. "We need to move."
They darted through the trees together, leaping over roots and weaving through the underbrush. It wasn't the first time Ren had run for his life, but something about this felt different. He wasn't just running to save himself — he was running with her. And he didn't want to lose her.
Not now.
They reached the edge of a ridge. Below, a dried-out riverbed wound through the forest like a scar.
"We can lose them down there," Ren said. "But I need you to trust me."
Ayame hesitated for a second — then nodded. "Lead the way."
They jumped, landing hard on the cracked stone floor of the riverbed. Dust and debris rose in the air, but they didn't stop. They sprinted down the path as footsteps echoed behind them — too close.
Ren skidded to a stop behind a boulder and pulled Ayame into the shadows with him. They crouched together in silence as two masked figures emerged above, their red Circle insignia gleaming on their cloaks.
"Tracks end here," one said. "Split up. He's close."
As the scouts disappeared into the trees, Ren finally let out a slow breath. Ayame was still close, her chest rising and falling quickly with adrenaline.
"That was too close," she whispered.
Ren gave a tight nod. "They won't stop. Dante wants me dead — or worse."
Ayame looked up at him, her expression unreadable. "You said you didn't want to be a weapon. So don't be. Fight."
He laughed bitterly. "Fight with what? I'm barely holding myself together."
"Then let me help," she said simply.
That stopped him. Her words cut through the fog like a blade.
"You're a hunter," he said. "You're trained to kill creatures like me."
"And you're not like them," she replied. "Not yet."
He looked at her — really looked. The way her jaw was set, the flicker of resolve in her eyes. She had every reason to walk away. But she hadn't. She stayed.
And for the first time in days, something like hope stirred inside him.
Maybe, with her by his side, he wouldn't have to become the monster they all feared.
Maybe he could rewrite the ending of his story.