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How Wrong We Were

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Immortality was frustrating, after a few centuries.

Sometime after his one-hundredth birthday, he'd lost track of what the difference was between his human birth date and the date of his Siring. The day he celebrated as his 'birthday' might not even land on either of those dates, it might be an average between the two. Not that it really mattered. They were as good as one in the same.

Sometime after his two-hundred birthday, he began to realize that he was going to have to work exponentially harder to amuse himself as he got older. Atop that, he had to struggle to keep up with the drastically changing world around him.

After his Sire was disposed of (subdued by a stake through his heart, and left out for the rising sun to devour; the most honorable death a vampire could earn at the hands of a human), he found himself abruptly friendless.

He had no desire to Sire a Childe of his own. Humans were boring, he'd never found one that was more interesting than a particularly amusing meal. Certainly never one he'd want to bless with the silver kiss and keep around forever. That was the problem with immortality, it meant forever, as in, without end. And while he'd split from his Sire's greater social group fairly rapidly, as was the custom of the time, things had changed. Vampires kept their Childer close at hand, some of them developed absolute harems of the weaker generation, kept them around like a shield of pathetic devotion. He wanted nothing to do with that.

He was non-traditional from the start, and that was probably what drove him into the friendship of the wolves. Well, one wolf in particular.

Youichiro was a lone wolf. He wasn't much like the rest of his pack, and he also had no desire to keep a pack of his own. He didn't want to be an alpha, he just wanted to be left alone, at least by other wolves and their pressure for him to either mate or start rampaging during the full moon and forcing the change on normal humans, an act Youichiro refused to partake in, having been changed in that way himself.

Werewolves didn't live forever, he knew that, but having Youichiro as a friend and companion made the long nights much easier. And they did have a tendency to live for several centuries. He'd outlive most humans, anyway.

His four-hundredth 'birthday' came as something of a surprise. Looking at a calendar and realizing that he had been walking this Earth and blindly adapting to the drastic changes around him for centuries left him feeling distinctly restless and uncomfortable.

He took to the night. The full moon blazed above him and he knew that meant Youichiro was out in the wilds, probably devouring some unwitting beast or other. Nothing sentient. Nothing that could be infected.

This was all irrelevant, though.

He needed a change, and change he was going to get.

The boy stumbling across his path was serendipitous, to say the last.

A human. He was not really a boy in the traditional sense of the word. He was at least as old as the human visage the vampire held. But after over four hundred years, any contemporary human was little more than an infant in the greater scheme of things. And so this was a boy to him, but one that drew his attention like a magnet, like a moth to dangerous flame.

He wanted him, in a deep and visceral way he had never felt before.

He approached the young human under the guise of friendly conversation, and he didn't need to exert any particular coercion to draw the human to him. It was strange, this sudden symbiosis between them. And when he drew the human into a dark alley to feed, he found, for the first time in four centuries, that he couldn't drain the human to a husk.

He couldn't kill this vibrant human. There were more depths to plumb. For the first time in his eternal, infernal life, he wanted to keep this human around.

"What is your name?" He asked in a blood-tainted whisper against the boy's ear.

"Sho." His new toy, his new pet answered in a lightheaded whisper. "Jinnai Sho."