#i might make a post for the hate on karmanami

[aisha-galaxia]

I just love how Karma was next to Okuda when they got kidnapped by the Reaper ❤️

[ionica01]

Karmanami Vampire AU

Okay you guys I actually wrote the Vampire AU and I’m quite proud of how it turned out. @todomomo​ for your Karmanami needs:)

This is a pretty long one so I’ll post it under the cut. you can also read on Ao3.

She had to do it.

Her heart gave a tight squeeze and the toffee she had just eaten made a double flip in her stomach. It was such a shame, too- it was from her favourite dessert shop in the entire city. She hated wasting high quality food like that, but right now, being environmentally friendly wasn’t exactly her biggest issue.

She had a mission to carry through.

It wasn’t so much of a mission as it was a challenge, frankly speaking. And it shouldn’t have been a challenge either. For any rational soul, it would have been common sense. In fact, Manami letting it go this far could be catalogued as absolute insanity. Not that rationality kept the feeling of emptiness from punching her guts- it just added guilt for the perfect combination.

Manami breathed in the chilly air of the night and let the rhythmical click-clack of her heels against the pavement calm her down. She cleared her mind of the last echoes of the opera, willed herself to forget his voice over dinner, wiped away his smile from her memory. That smile that warmed up her insides, that smile that made blood rush to her cheeks.

She suddenly realised how cold it was outside and pulled the fur coat tighter around her shoulders, gulping down the tightness in her throat.

She could do it.

“I didn’t know secret agents were so weak against strawberry shortcake,” she finally delivered the line she had been perfecting for days. She had said it out loud so many times to find the right fluctuation in her tone, yet her voice still quivered under the pressure of the real moment.

“I didn’t know vampires had a soft spot for toffee, either,” he answered unfazed, walking forward as if nothing was out of the ordinary. As if she hadn’t just divulged the job he had never told her about. As if he hadn’t claimed that she belonged to a race from the old legends.

“If you knew, then why did you approach me?” she inquired.

Indeed, his behaviour over the past few months intrigued her. One day, he entered her office to ask her on a date, claiming to greatly admire her research, and never lost any occasion to take her out since. At first she suspected he was just surveilling her, but she was just a benign vampire. She had nothing new to add to the fray, no information worth wasting hours of his precious time to spit out.

“Because I thought you were interesting,” he said nonchalantly. “And I was right. I mean, what vampire becomes a scientist fighting to find a cure for cancer? As far as I know, that is an illness that only affect the ‘lowly race’.”

“Such a thing as ‘lowly’ doesn’t exists. Humans have overcome their shortcomings better than us, and they deserve praise for that. Besides, vampire tissue might save thousands of lives and-” Manami stopped talking when she saw him smiling. Did he even had any idea how contagious he was when he smiled genuinely like that?

“See? I told you you were interesting.”

The sound of heels clicking against the pavement came to a halt and Manami took in another deep breath. She needed to focus. Whatever relationship she had with him, she needed to end it. It could only cause them both a heap of problems and pain later on. Much more pain than the emptiness in her heart caused her right now, she tried arguing with her feelings. They didn’t bother to listen.

“Are you making fun of me, Akabane-san?”

Her words lingered for what seemed an eternity in the empty street. She knew he wasn’t- and that made it even harder for her to carry her mission through.

Eventually, the sound of his polished shoes also died out and he turned around to face her.

“Do I look like I’m mocking you, Okuda-san?”

Playful was the last word Manami would have used to describe Karma Akabane. He looked serious, ferocious and, most of all, hurt. She was already hurting him, only by using words.

Her guts twisted again.

“Do I look like I’m joking around?” he asked again, taking a step towards her. She backed away from instinct.

“I am dead serious when I’m telling you that you are very interesting, Okuda-san. You are an one-of-a-kind woman, vampire or not. And I find you intriguing.”

He narrowed the distance between them to a step. Manami’s back was now leaning against the window of a closed shop. Her mind issued warning signals, but she didn’t evade.

“That’s why I came to like you,” Akabane finished with a smirk and closed in the distance between them.

Manami could feel his smell burn its way to her lungs. He smelt like cologne and danger, but also like strawberry shortcake and very, very sweet blood.

She found herself staring into his golden eyes as she whispered, “You’re insane.”

“Perhaps,” he admitted. As if to prove his insanity, he leaned down and kissed her.

It probably only lasted a few seconds, but it was long enough for Manami to forget how to breathe altogether.

This was wrong. Their whole relationship was wrong. He was a human from the Surveillance Department; she was a vampire trying to find her place in the human society. She could only bring destruction and inflict pain upon him, so why was he being so stubborn? He knew-he should have known what she was. What she was capable of. How they shouldn’t even dare overstep the boundaries of their respective societies.

And yet here he was, his lips pressed against hers with passion, his hand exploring her face and brushing stray locks of hair aside. Manami felt like he was claiming her- just as vampires did when they drank a human’s blood.

Red locks intertwined with her purple bangs, breaths mingled in the air, one collected and sure, the other one quick and panicked. She wasn’t sure where she ended and where he began. They were together- that was all she could be sure of.

When Akabane broke off the kiss, he gave her a few seconds to catch her breath before eventually asking, “Do you understand now?”

“I do.”

And she did- she understood that she was right. They were wrong to be together, and it was wrong for them to act as if they had any right to be.

But she also understood that none of it really mattered.

Because when he kissed her, he tasted addictingly sweet, poisonously so. Now that she had a taste of it, she doubted she could live without it anymore.

So what she did was pull his tie to bring him to her eye-level and hungrily kiss him again.

She felt Karma smirk against her lips.

“Manami-chan, why do you publicly claim to be a vegetarian?” Karma questioned her.

Picking her up from work had become somewhat of a routine for Karma. At 7 p.m. sharp, he barged into her laboratory, tearing her away from her microscopes and tissue samples. Sometimes they went out to eat, other times he just took her home. The destination mattered less. He just found it more enjoyable to talk to her while walking, having the fresh air wash over both of them.

“Because I do not eat meat in the public,” she responded categorically.

“Why is that?” he pushed further, squeezing her hand playfully.

Her hands were always pale and cold, but that didn’t bother Karma. In fact, he thought her low body temperature reflected quite well how hard to impress she was. The harder, the more exciting the challenge.

“Let’s just say it’s not a pleasant sight,” she sighed. When her dejected face was so adorable, how could anybody expect him to resist teasing her?

“But you like it, right?” he asked her with a blossom of a grin.

“Yes,” she admitted skeptically, meeting his look. Her sharp intuition was right on the spot.

“Guess what we are eating tonight!”

***

“Karma-kun, no!” Manami repeated for the umpteenth time since her boyfriend had put an apron over his suit and taken over her kitchen.

“But I’m a really good cook!” he assured her.

“That is not the issue!” she sighed exasperated, dropping into one of the chairs at the table and clutching her head with both hands, shaking it violently.

Karma had to hand it to her, she was putting up a great show of being stressed out. The overwhelming curiosity as to why she so categorically refused to eat pork in public haunted him. He had a hard time imaging diligent and overly careful, though a bit clumsy, Manami being a messy eater. What were her standards for an “unpleasant sight”, anyway?

Karma flipped over the vegetables in the pan and opened her cupboard, searching for spices.

“Only oregon?” he wrinkled his nose.

“I’m not a chef or anything,” she defended herself, glaring at him through her bangs.

“You don’t need to be a chef to have at least some decent spices. Where’s the parsley, pepper, chilli, tarragon, basil, cardamom, wasabi, sesame-” he stopped upon seeing her inexpressive face. “You didn’t get half of those, did you?”

She shook her head in response.

Karma stirred the vegetables again. “We’ll work on that,” he assured her.

“Yes, oh mighty Lord of Spices,” she scoffed, but Karma let it pass. He’ll be the one taunting her when she’ll mess up the spices in the following cooking lessons.

“I don’t get it. You have a fine nose- shouldn’t you be picky about your food?” he instead asked her.

“Having a good nose and being a good cook are two distinct notions,” she noted with sorrow.

“I’ll guess that explains your mostly-empty fridge?” he teased with a gesture towards the suspiciously clean kitchen.

“Yes,” she grudgingly admitted.

“Well well, Manami-chan, I’ll let you know us humans need fuel to survive. And I happen to possess particularly keen taste buds.” He threw his words at her one after the other, observing with satisfaction as her expression evolved from annoyed to exasperated.

“I understand, you will rule over the kitchen,” she snarled at him, crossing her arms over her chest.

“You are dumping all the responsibility on me just like that?” Karma taunted.

Manami’s eyes widened with the horrible implications. “No!” she vehemently declared. He kept his unyieldingly pestering look on her. “No, no, no,” she repeated, slamming her hand against the table. “I am not cooking!”

“Oh come on, Manami-chan! Will you keep your exhausted boyfriend starving?” he pleaded.

“He won’t be starving. There is a convenience store just around the corner,” she reminded him flintly.

“That’s so mean! It is said that love goes through the stomach, you know?”

“Your love goes through a teasing-machine, Karma-kun,” she noticed matter-of-factly.

The timer went off, signaling that the pork was ready. Karma put on a glove and pulled out the tray, admiring his masterpiece. The bloody pork smelled every bit as delicious as it looked, to Karma’s delight.

He turned to see Manami’s reaction, but she was holding her breath, blocking her nose with a sleeve.

“Come on, Manami-chan! It smells delicious,” he tempted her, but the girl only shook her head again.

Karma pretended not to notice her aversion towards the delicious meal. He set the table and arranged two plates before inviting her to sit down once again. Her look shifted between him and the plate with uneasiness.

Seeing her so unsure, Karma found it in his attributions as the good boyfriend he was to assure her, “I won’t break up with you over you being a messy eater, you know?”

She seemed to ponder the statement for a moment, searching for any sign of teasing on Karma’s face. She slowly lowered her sleeve from her nose after her search ended up with no matching results and responded, “You won’t be disgusted?”

“You can’t be worse than Nagisa attacking the lamb I was about to cook, believe me,” he assured her.

Manami chuckled despite herself, sitting down and grabbing a fork. Karma noticed her hands were trembling- was she afraid?

As soon as they dove in, though, Karma realized it wasn’t from fear, but rather, from excitement. He hadn’t even cut his meat that she had already gulped down a third of the steak, barely touching the vegetables. He had taken her out many times, yet not once had she reached that speed. It was almost unnatural- she barely chewed the food before stuffing her mouth with the next piece.

Only one word came to mind to describe the process: animalistic. Like a hunter tearing its prey apart.

Just how much self-control did she have to exert around humans if animal blood made her go crazy like that? Karma suddenly recalled how she gulped tightly when he cut himself in front of her ‘by accident’ on their first date and swallowed the guilt. She must have gone through hell. She still did.

Blood was trickling out of her mouth and down her chin when she looked up from her empty plate. A trace of that animalistic desire flickered in her eyes before her look focused on Karma and she lost the feral glint. The man wasn’t sure what was going on inside her head, but she must have lost her self-control to her instincts, because Manami grasped the table with such force that her pale fingers became white. It took a few minutes for her to calm down and wipe the blood from her chin.

“Unsightly, isn’t it?” she asked him without making eye contact. A sad smile tugged at her lips.

Karma stared at her for a whole minute. He didn’t see where she saw unsightly- it was beautiful to him. That she was willing to restrain herself so much just to live among humans was beyond extraordinary.

He traversed the table in the blink of an eye and pulled her into a tight hug.

“Uhm, Karma-kun? This is not-” she struggled to get out “-not a very good idea.”

Of course it wasn’t. The smell of his blood must have burnt her lungs. He was only giving her more pain fighting against her instincts. But that couldn’t be compared to the pain she must have felt upon being seen in that state.

“I really do love you,” he told her. She stopped struggling and pulled her head back to look him in the eyes.

“What did you say?” she asked him.

“I love you.”

She stared at him just like she had back when he had kissed her that night- like he was crazy. And also like she loved him despite that. Because of that, Karma grinned.

She buried her head into his chest and hugged him back, digging her nails into his shirt. “Me too,” she mumbled, voice muffled. Karma felt her breaths even out as she regained control over body and eventually stopped trembling. He kissed the crown of her hair.

“I think I’ll keep cooking pork from now on,” he informed her when she seemed stable again.

This made Manami break off the embrace. “Better me cooking than that!” she responded in a terrified voice.

Karma’s laughter filled the kitchen, shortly thereafter followed by Manami’s chuckle.

“If it really doesn’t bother you-” she said when they sat back down, “-can I have seconds?”

Manami loved fluffy socks. Her toes curled in the soft paradise, warming her up on the inside. She knew it was impossible for anything to raise the actual temperature of her body- save for Karma’s teasing remarks- but fluffy socks worked miracles on brightening her mood.

What was even better than fluffy socks was wearing them after an exhausting day and accompanying them by two other objects that served to put her in high spirits: a cup of steaming hot tea and a good book.

Manami sipped her tea and leaned the mug against her chest, letting the steam tickle her nose. Her glasses blurred, but she didn’t bother to take them off. Instead, she closed her eyes and leaned against the pillows, taking in the scent of her house.

It used to smell like lavender and old books, but now hints of cologne and spices lingered in her apartment. The aroma that ruled over her house was the scent of him, though. It impregnated every pillow, every carpet and even her own clothes.

She hadn’t seen him the last week, and she was worrying the smell would fade away. He was preparing for an infiltration mission that, as far as she knew, was supposed to be carried out tonight. She checked her phone for any calls- there were none. Manami’s heart squeezed, but she tried arguing that he knew what he was doing. He was going to show up at her work again the next day, grinning as per usual.

The doorbell startled her, the jolt of surprise causing her to spill the tea all over the couch and the carpet. She cursed under her breath and made for the kitchen to grab a towel, but the doorbell rang again. Suspicious, Manami changed course, clutching the book in her hands. She never got visitors so late at night.

She stepped quietly, ready to use her novel as a weapon if need arose. The third time the doorbell rang it was longer and it sent shivers down Manami’s spine. A very bad premonition crept its way into her head and nestled into her heart. She almost jumped the last few steps to the door. The sweet smile was unmistakeable.

Book clutched so tight into one hand her fingers went white, heart racing and feet trembling, she peeked through the eyefish lense. The color red burnt her retina and she unlocked her door in quick moves, finding the locks instinctively. She didn’t dare take her eye from the sight. All of her fears coming to life when she banged it against the wall.

“Good evening,” Karma greeted her with a tired smile. The scar on his face crooked when his lips curled and sent shots of pain through him.

She pulled him in and locked the door behind them again, grabbing his hand and leading him in the living room wordlessly. Their way was marked by a trail of blood droplets and his hand was sticky from the dried blood.

That was not how she wanted to see him again. He was ravished, his suit blood stained in more places than one, his body scarred in more places than one. Her nostrils flared with the smell of fresh, human blood, but her instincts weren’t nearly strong enough to overcome the fear that spider-walked through every fiber of her body.

She had no idea how to react or what to say. The best wisest choice was probably not to talk at all- she feared being unable to close her mouth once she opened it. Her control only took her so far. After all, his blood generally smelled good, his open wounds were outright inviting, poisonously sweet.

“Before you yell at me for coming to your place, I know that’s not exactly the wisest choice,” Karma said. The long sentence made him cough, causing the bloodstain on his shirt to spread further into the fabric. She was going to burn it later.

“Stop talking,” Manami hissed through clenched teeth, taking out band aids, bandages and disinfectant from her first-aid kit. Before she turned back to him, she put a hair pin on her nose, just of block off the smell.

He unbuttoned his shirt without waiting for her to instruct him. The wound on his abdomen wasn’t lethal, but it was big enough to become nasty if not disinfected thoroughly.

Manami ignored his jolts of pain as she applied the disinfectant to his wounds. Karma didn’t say anything either. The cut seemed like the work of a dagger, a swift and well delivered cut. The only thing Manami could be thankful for was that no bullets were involved. That would have been impossible to operate with her scarce ustensils.

Only when she tied the bandage up did she finally open her mouth, letting all of the words she had stored up overflow. “What happened out there?! I thought you were supposed to infiltrate, not fight to your death. And get yourself treated at a hospital first! You can’t just enter a vampire’s house as a pre-prepared meal either! Are you an idiot?!”

He watched her with a look that mixed fondness with an apology, caressing her face with a hand. Manami felt the trace of blood it left on her face, still warm and appetizing, even through her blocked nostrils. However, she schooled her body to stay still. She wasn’t aware when the warmth of his blood mixed with her own salty tears.

He picked the hairclip from her nose and threw it on the table, pulling her on the couch next to him. Standing up probably hurt too much. Manami felt a shot of his own pain through her and placed a hand over his, on her cheek. Hers was frozen against his.

“To answer your-” he started, but winced at the pain.

“Don’t talk so much,” she advised him. She had never seen him so beat-up, so vulnerable. The always-in-charge Karma looked human and frail.

“It was supposed to be a spying mission, but it turned out to be a trap. Damned be Asano,” Karma spat and ran his other hand over his freshly-bandaged wound.

“You infiltrated Lord Asano’s house?” Manami asked in shock. His mansion was way too well guarded for only a handful of people to get in.

“No. His son’s. But he was one step ahead of us- he turned the house into a trap and moved away.” The man frowned of the memory. Manami knew just how much he hated failing.

She looked away from him, picking a fresh bandage for his cheek. His sorrowful voice delivered a damaging hit to whatever managed to escape unscratched in her heart.

“It was horrible. He had high technology and hitmen all ready for us. Chiba and Hayami managed to take down a few, but they didn’t left unwounded either.”

“And you?” Manami placed a compress on his cheek, not bearing to meet his golden eyes.

“I was the head of the mission, so I guess I got the worst of it.” She heard the sad smile in his voice. “I got in a brawl with an assassin. Let me tell you- your vampires have some amazing force when they want to crack someone’s skull open.” She knew he was trying to make light of the situation. He felt her trembling under his touch and tried again, “Well, at least not even vampires are immune to paralysing spray.”

Manami’s stomach did a flip and she cupped Karma’s face, feeling the need to touch him. To know he was really there. To know he was alive. He smiled at her, wiping away sweat she didn’t know had formed on her brow. At least the tears had dried, leaving only a trace of washed blood on her face.

She pointed to his biggest wound fearfully.

“A petty last attack from one of the hitmen. Chiba knocked him unconscious before he could stab anybody else.”

Manami guessed she must have been paler than usual, because Karma pushed his forehead against hers.

“I’m here. I’m okay now.”

No, he was not.

“Chiba and Hayami had smaller wounds, so they treated them at the ministry. I-” he tightened the grasp on her hand, “I needed to check you were safe.”

Manami doubted lord Asano would target her after he had left three humans in a house full of vampire assassins, but that certainly wasn’t impossible. She gritted her teeth.

“I’m sorry,” Manami was all she could say.

“It’s not your fault. This is my job. Besides, I should have figured it was a trap. It was way too easy to track him down.”

“You shouldn’t have to worry about me when you’re so beaten up.”

Karma cringed. Manami knew he had a good hunch of what she was thinking, but she said it before he could contradict her.

“I never realised just how dangerous your job was,” Manami whispered. “And how our relationship could make it even more so.” She was a danger  to him. The word haunted her. She hated saying it aloud as much of Karma hated hearing it. He got out fine now, but he could end up in much nastier situations in the future.

“Don’t ever say that again,” Karma answered in a voice that admitted no comeback. “My work has always been dangerous. That’s what makes it fun,” he said with one of his trademark smirks, making Manami simper despite the situation.

She threw her hands around his neck, ignoring the smell of his fresh blood that awakened her animalistic instincts The thought that she was the danger almost drove her insane. And yet he still wanted her around- and she was selfish enough to stay.

“You scared the hell out of me,” she said.

“I’m sorry.” He circled her waist with an arm, pulling her closer. She closed her eyes, listening to his heartbeats. He was alive. She always seemed to forget just how easy to kill humans were. She buried her nose in his hair, trying to get rid of the blood smell. And then she noticed it.

“Karma,” she warned him, pointing to his fingers. He watched the blood trickle down his fingers and wiped it off his destroyed shirt.

“Sorry, almost got your carpet,” he apologised.

“That is not the issue!” Manami exclaimed in exasperation, getting another bandage ready. This cut was superficial, but any exposure to air made it a target for more microbes. And for Manami’s hunger.

“Manami,” Karma stopped her as she prepared to wrap his palm. “I have wondered this for a while, but why do you always refuse to drink my blood?”

She froze midair, squinting her eyes at him. “We’ve been over this before. I don’t know if I can stop once I start,” she spoke evenly.

“You just treated me. I think you can control yourself pretty well.”

“This and drinking it are different,” she explained. Besides…

“You’re hiding something from me, aren’t you?” Karma inquired with his freakishly accurate intuition. Of course he’d see through her. “What’s your true reason?” he pressed.

“That…” He was watching her intently, not missing any of her movements. She breathed in deeply. He had every right to know. “Do you believe in soulmates?”

“No,” he responded immediately. “I don’t think some sort of ‘fate’ decides who you’re destined for.”

“Well vampires do,” she informed. “They think each of us has a soulmate. And they say you’ll know who that is- once you drink their blood.”

“So you’re saying they go around drinking people’s and vampires’ blood alike, looking for a soulmate?” Karma questioned. “Seems counterproductive to me,” he told her with a smirk.

Manami rolled her eyes, “We aren’t that desperate.”

“Then what about you? Do you think it’s true?” He asked her with a serious look.

The scientist within found it stupid. The vampire experience contradicted her, though. She had seen so many vampire couples simply knowing how their partner felt, as if their souls were bound. She had been hearing stories about soulmates since she was a mere child. Kayano was absolutely obsessed with researching it.

“I-I don’t know,” Manami admitted. “I’ve always been told I’ll just know once I drink his blood so I…” the words refused to get out.

“So you’re afraid I’m not it,” Karma remarked coldly.

“No!” Manami strongly opposed the idea. In fact, she wasn’t even sure it worked with humans- vampires were so against the idea of being bound to a human they kept no such records. “I mean- I love you, Karma!” she blurted. She needed him to understand that she didn’t care whether he was her soulmate or not, but that it mattered to her society. To his chances of ever being turned into one of her own.

“Then does it matter?” he asked with an indecipherable look.

Manami gulped. “Then it shouldn’t matter to you either if I refuse to drink it,” she tried.

“But it does, Manami. Because you’re always restraining yourself around me. I don’t want you to always fear losing your head around me.”

“What if I can’t stop myself?” she asked fearfully, glancing at his wound. It lured her to get a taste. She gulped down her desire.

“I’ll stop you then,” he assured her with a gentle smile.

The blood was trickling down his fingers again. Manami felt a pit open up in her stomach. She was dead-scared of not feeling whatever she was supposed to feel. However, she could imagine no other man to spend her eternity with, so she closed her eyes and let the smell of his blood feel her lungs.

And then she drank it.

It was like an explosion of taste. It was sweet and salty at the same time, and it was extremely dense, yet it flew out of his cut seamlessly. As soon as she tasted it, she knew she craved more, she knew she needed more. It was just like when he had kissed her for the first time- once she knew the feeling, she couldn’t live without it.

Was this what a soulmate was? A person without whose presence you couldn’t imagine life anymore?

She suddenly felt a jab of pain on her left wrist and then the spot burned and glowed bright red. A jolt of surprise waved through her as she observed her wrist. There was something there- a mark, a drawing…

A tattoo.

It looked like a stylised flower, its complicated model waving its way as it burnt into her skin, flaring red. It was beautifully intricate, so much so, that it was hard for Manami to take her eyes from it.

She looked up at Karma to see his eyes widen in surprise as he examined his own wrist.

He had the same model.

Manami blinked once. Twice. And then she felt her cheeks damp and her vision blurry. She let out a sob of relief and felt Karma’s hand on her face, his warm wrist resting against her neck. He kissed her softly, wiping away the happy tears from her eyes.

“Are you certain about this?” Manami asked again, suddenly feeling like the door they were facing was so imposing it could crush her.

“Isn’t it kinda late to back out now?” Karma chuckled, squeezing her hand. “They’re gonna love you, I guarantee it.”

“If you say so,” she half-heartedly agreed. Karma knocked on the impassible door. With each second that went by, Manami’s heart beat faster and the sound of steps echoing inside drummed in her ears.

When someone finally opened the door, Manami jerked. A beautiful red-headed woman stood in the entry. She blinked at them a few times before her face split in two with a familiar smirk.

“Honey,” she yelled, “it’s a girl! Karma brought a girl!”

Manami felt the mark on her wrist grow warm and she glanced sideways at Karma. It was almost unnoticeable, but the blush was definitely there.

“Are you done yelling the newest gossip out loud?” Karma rolled his eyes and stepped inside, dragging Manami after him.

“That’s not a very warm greeting, Karma,” his mother smirked at him.

The man smirked back, “It’s just as warm as the weather we had to wait in.”

A giggle escaped Manami’s lips, but it went unnoticed as mother and son kept going at their comeback contest. She had tried imagining what his parents would be like ever since he announced her she was invited to have dinner with them, but it didn’t cross her mind that his mother would be a feminine version of him.

“They’re at it as soon as they see each other,” the masculine voice she had heard earlier spoke. Manami looked in its direction to see a well-built man with Karma’s golden eyes and black hair. He smiled softly at her, the same smile Karma wore when he was genuinely happy. “I’m sorry they’re being so stubborn.”

“It’s nothing,” Manami assured him, giggling again. “They are rather entertaining. Oh!” she suddenly remembered, handing him a gift. “This is not much, but please accept it!”

“That’s nice of you, miss… ?”

“Okuda. Manami Okuda,” she bowed.

“Okuda-san. I am Akabane Ryunosuke, Karma’s father,” he bowed in return.

“And you bring in a cute girl like this without even telling me?” Karma’s mother teased him, earning Manami’s attention. “Isn’t that just being mean to you parents?”

“Mother please, if I told you I was bringing my girlfriend to dinner, you would have dug up all the blackmail material you had on me,” he answered in return. “I couldn’t give you such a chance, or I wouldn’t be a fit tactician.”

“That’s my son,” she admitted, patting his back. “Now then, introductions!” she suddenly changed gears, spinning on her heels to face Manami. “Akabane Urara,” she presented herself, hugging Manami out of nowhere.

“Okuda Manami,” she answered, hugging the woman back. It was quite an unusually warm welcome, and that made her heart flutter.

“Manami-chan, you’re so cute!” The woman pulled back to study her better. “My my, when my son told me we had guests for dinner, I thought he meant Nagisa. Are you a vampire too?”

Manami felt her blood freeze in her veins. The woman was too direct, and she seemed so nonchalant about it that she didn’t know whether it was a trick or a genuine question. The Akabane family seemed to have an inborn gift for confusing people.

“Yes she is,” Karma just as nonchalantly answered, taking his coat off.

“That’s awesome!” the woman exclaimed, before returning to her son with a suspicious look. “You didn’t blackmail her with your position, did you?”

“I don’t succumb to such petty tactics,” he countered.

Manami didn’t find the appropriate reaction, but Akabane-san came to her rescue before she needed to. “Okuda-san probably wants to sit down, so why don’t we continue this discussion in the living room?”

Urara-san grabbed her hand and led her into the spacious living room. It wasn’t extravagantly furnished, but Manami could tell they didn’t lack money. As if the location didn’t give it away- they lived in a small town 40 km away from the capital, in one of its residential areas. She wondered what kind of childhood Karma had here.

“I should go look over dinner,” her saviour announced. “Karma, come with me?” When the man glared at his father the older one shrugged, “I can’t trust the house not blowing up with you and your mother in the same room.”

“Come on dear, we have a great relationship!” Urara-san faked being hurt.

“I never said you didn’t. However, I doubt that that great relationship will make Okuda-san want to rest any longer with us,” he explained. Words failed to express how thankful Manami was for this man’s kind smile and small encouragements.

“Please don’t freak her out, mother.”

“If she could stand you, I think I won’t pose a problem,” the woman grinned.

Karma ignored her and instead addressed Manami, “If she’s about to do something to you, just scream, okay?”

“I think I can handle it by myself,” Manami assured him.

Urara-san waved the men good-bye with a sweet smile plastered on her face. When she whipped her head around with Manami, a trademark Akabane grin replaced it. “Wanna see photos from Karma’s childhood?”

***

“And this one is from middle school,” she pointed to a small version of Karma with tamer hair.

“He’s been into cardigans ever since, I see.”

“He always said it was much easier to move around in them,” the older woman approved.

Manami grew to like Urara-san over the past half an hour they spent going through albums. She was actually quite fond of Karma, from her stories of his baby days to how he became a master of the game of tag.

“Oh, I always wanted to do this! What’s a matter for if not for embarrassing her child?” Urara-san sighed delighted. “Manami-chan, what about your childhood?” she asked, eyes lit by curiosity.

“Mine? Nothing amazing, really.” Urara-san’s disappointed look made her admit, “Well, I used to work in my parent’s laboratory.”

“That’s right, you’re a scientist, aren’t you? So what did you do? Experiments?”

“More like trying to find something to reduce the damage made by the atomic bomb. My parents were both against the cold ways of the Second World War.”

Urara-san stared at her for a moment before bursting into laughter. “This is why vampires are so much fun!” she said, wiping a tear from her eyes. “You don’t look a day over 28 yet you actually lived through World War II!”

A blush crept up Manami’s cheeks. “Well that’s-”

“That is amazing!” the woman exclaimed. “I see why Karma wanted to work-”

“Are you done embarrassing your son?” Akabane-san’s voice echoed from the door frame, interrupting Urara-san’s incoming story. “If yes, he needs help setting the table.”

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” she yawped. “Why must you be such a killjoy?”

Akabane-san kissed her forehead on her way to the dining room upstairs in compensation. Once she disappeared in the kitchen, he took her place on the couch, next to Manami.

“Has she filled your head with stories of Karma?” he asked, mildly amused by his wife’s excitement.

“She did, but I don’t mind. It was endearing.”

“I doubt he would be to pleased to hear you know of them.”

“I think he already knows,” Manami whispered, and Akabane-san agreed with a nod and a smile.

“I think that’s Urara’s way of doting on him. She didn’t get the chance to when Karma was a baby,” he confessed.

“How so?” Manami asked. Once she noticed his faraway look, she added, “You don’t have to answer if that’s too personal.”

“It’s fine. Karma would have told you sooner or later, anyway.” He breathed in and fixed his look on a spot in the carpet work, though it seemed like he was watching into his family’s past. “We were gone a lot when Karma was little. Business trips all over the world took up our already limited time with him. That’s why he grew so independent and built walls all around him,” he smiled sadly. He ripped his look from the carpet and looked at Manami. “And yet, he never came to hate us. I don’t really think we deserve to be forgiven so easily, but that’s just the way he is.”

Manami could perfectly picture that. A child version of Karma, detaching himself from the other snot to get hurt. But deep inside…

“He’s actually a soft person,” Manami said.

Akabane-san gave her a doting look. “He’s just like his mother. Thank you, Okuda-san,” he said, “for taking care of him.”

“No no,” she stammered, “it’s more like I’ve been in his care.”

A moment of silence fell between them, but Manami enjoyed it. It wasn’t tense or charged, but rather, it was a moment of mutual understanding.

“Doesn’t me being a vampire bother you?” she asked in a quiet voice, finally voicing what has been on her mind the entire visit.

“We learnt to trust Karma long ago. If you managed to bring down his walls and make him confide in you, I think that’s proof enough you deserve our trust, as well. Even more so if you are a vampire,” he smiled.

“Thank you,” was all she could answer without her voice breaking.

“Dinner is ready~” Karma sing songed his way into the living room. “Wow, what’s with the serious tone?” he asked once he sensed the mood.

“Seriously, did somebody die?” Urara-san asked too, mirroring Karma’s expression.

“No, we were just enjoying a quiet moment without you two,” Akabane-san answered in his usual voice. “You know, it’s a thing people actually do.”

“There is no moment without us,” Karma drily said.

“Exactly. We are the salt and the pepper,” Urara-san agreed, as if disappointed with her husband.

Manami chuckled at the duo.

“Young lady, are you laughing at somebody older?” Urara-san warned her.

“Technically speaking, I’m the oldest one here,” she corrected her.

“And we have a winner,” Karma proudly declared. “Prize: dinner. Come on, I’m hungry,” Karma grabbed her arm and pulled her upstairs. His excitement was so contagious it made the girl smile. Karma had been right- she had nothing to worry about.

Maybe one thing to worry about.

“Karma,” she questioned him with an accusing look. Her nostrils predicted hell was about to break loose.

He ignored her and proudly announced once they made their way in the kitchen, “Tonight, we’ll be serving bloody pork!”

The mark on Karma’s wrist blinked dully, its lila color glowing in rhythm with Manami’s breaths. Karma had needed some time to come to terms with the fact that this tattoo was actually a soulmate thing. Last time he checked, he was in a word populated by vampires, not in an alternative universe where drinking your soulmate’s blood gives you matching flowery patterns.

A few months later, though, he was positive that was was the most beautiful thing he had laid his eyes on. Not person- that would have been Manami herself. But this tattoo or mark or whatever vampires called it was beautiful.

What was special about it was that it linked Manami to him no matter how far away she was. Granted, if she was very far away, it faded, but it never disappeared.

The first time it had changed color, Karma checked his forehead for a fever. When he received it, it was red like his blood. The next morning, however, it had turned lila. When he asked Manami what the meaning of that was over breakfast, she had no clue- hers was now golden.

They didn’t really pay it any mind until Karma suddenly felt his hand burning and saw his mark glowing purple. He was in the middle of a meeting, but excused himself to the bathroom to call Manami and check if she was alright. She seemed just fine- in fact, she was in high spirits because her project had been approved for testing.

With time and some research, as well as eventually giving in and asking Kayano, Karma found out that the tattoo was a very special link between soulmates and changed according to their feelings. Each tattoo was unique in its own color symbolism, but basically each of them transmitted how the other one was feeling.

“I haven’t seen one of those in ages,” Mr. Karasuma had said when he noticed it through Karma’s shirt. Vampires weren’t really subtil with their glowing tattoos. “Congratulations, Akabane.”

It was the first time Karma had seen his superior genuinely happy for his welfare.

Manami’s standard color turned out to be lila. When she was extremely pleased, the flower glowed purple. For Karma’s state of mind, the default setting was golden, though more often than not his teasing turned it into brown. Him being honestly happy was signaled by yellow, Manami claimed.

The only colour that was common for both of them was red. Shining crimson red meant either of their blood had been spilled. Even with a minor paper cut, the tattoo went red and Manami frantically called Karma to make sure he wasn’t beaten up again. Karma had to keep the glowing red concealed for the monthly five days in which Manami suffered from the curse of being born a woman. At least he knew when to buy her tampons, he argued when she groaned about his involvement in her pain.

As beautiful as the thing was, it came with its downsides, the biggest of which being that Karma couldn’t hide himself when he was worried. Manami’s tattoo turned silver whenever he was mulling over something.

“I’ve got something you want,” Asano said.

Karma narrowed his eyes at him. “What could you possibly have that will make you help overthrow your father?”

“I can turn you into a vampire,” the bastard said, smirking as his words sunk in. karma schooled his features into remaining neutral. He couldn’t jump at the bait.

“Why would you turn your mortal enemy into an immortal one?” Karma questioned his judgement.

“Because you and I have something in common- we want the human society to survive. The Lord doesn’t.”

Asano knew just how dim the Ministry’s chances of ending Lord Asano’s reign were. They barely stood a chance uniting their forces. Karma gritted his teeth as he pondered the offer. It was hard to refuse. Ever harder when his future with Manami balanced the fate of humanity.

Karma knew what Asano wanted- for the vampires to be acknowledge by society once again. For them to hold positions of power in the govern. It wasn’t ideal, but it was better than “survival of the fittest”, as the older Asano called it. That was just sugarcoating the mass homicide he was planning. Humans were just stepping stones for the Asano family. One wanted to destroy them after making his way to the top so that he wouldn’t have anything to drag him down later. The other one wanted an amortizor in case he fell.

“There are terms you will have to agree to,” Karma answered after a minute of running the possibilities through his head. Humans were doomed anyway- desperate times called for desperate measures. “You will be called to the Ministry in the following week to discuss the official terms.”

“I knew you’d be sensible about this,” Asano grinned.

“Only so that I’ll make you regret your promise for the rest of eternity,” Karma grinned back.

The mark had turned not silver, but white that day. Manami didn’t know what to make of it, and Karma told her he was exhausted and under the weather, so he was probably just unstable. He couldn’t give her false hope.

He watched her again, curled into him peacefully. They had come so far- she could now sleep next to him without fearing she would snap; he was able to let her draw out bigger quantities of blood from him, although she mostly opposed the idea; they were able to be together despite the odds.

And he was one step closer to spending an eternity with her- that made it worth any risk.

The tattoo started glowing stronger as Manami blinked awake.

“Morning,” Karma greeted her. She blinked away the sleep and watched him through heavy eyelashes. And a good thing too, because she would have noticed the yellow glow of her tattoo otherwise.

Karma accaparated her attention with a kiss, placing a hand over her wrist. He knew it was futile, though- happiness irradiated from every inch of his being.