The hallway was silent. Too silent. Like the whole inn was holding its breath. Shion stood just outside the sliding door to my room, her arms crossed, her weight shifted slightly on one hip. She looked casual. Too casual. She was doing the “standing perfectly still” thing again, but I saw it. The way her pupils dited just a little too wide every time she looked at me.

  She was nervous.

  And I stood in front of the door to my room on the sed floor of the onsen.

  I swallowed. "So… you’re just gonna stand out here the whole time? You -”

  "NO!”

  The word came fast – sharp, like a gunshot cutting me off midsentence.

  I blinked. "I mean, I was just saying—"

  She looked at me. And suddenly, the air between us felt too still. The pyful, teasing Shion from befohe girl standing in front of me wasn’t smiling. She took a slow, deliberate step forward. Not too close. Just enough that I could feel the cold rolling off her. Her lips parted slightly, and I caught the barest glimpse of her fangs. Not bared. Not aggressive. Just there.

  "Don’t invite me in."

  I frowned. "Shion—"

  "Don’t. Invite. Me. In."

  My stomach twisted.

  I wao ask why. I wao tell her that she was being ridiculous. But I couldn’t. Because I already knew. Because suddenly, I was very aware of how thin the space between us was. Because I could see it in her eyes—how hard she was fighting.

  “Let’s see how much you know about vampires, Ryu. What happens if you invite oo your residence?” she asked.

  “ you refresh my memory?”

  I saw her take another measured breath. She nodded, and I could tell she hated having to expin this, like it was embarrassing for her.

  “I’ll kill you,” she said simply.

  My face fell.

  “Oh, not like I’m some kind of maniac or animal, Ryu. Do you uand? I’m NOT an animal, Ryu, do you uand?” she asked.

  “Yes, Shion. I uand. You’re not an animal,” I started, but she interrupted me.

  “Then listen, because there are RULES, and they OT be bent. And they certainly ’t be broken. Because… when you break one of these rules… things ot be the way they were before… ever. And…” she looked at me with her waterless eyes, but I could tell, if she were alive, they would have been lined with tears.

  Shion’s tears would never fall. I wao reach out – to tell her I was listening. But I didn’t. I couldn’t. It hurt, but she couldn’t e in.

  My throat felt dry. "...You don’t trust yourself."

  Her jaw tensed. A single muscle in her cheek twitched.

  Then, she ughed – soft, breathless. Hollow. "I trust myself just fine. As long as I’m full. But… if you invited me in, that’s the same thing as saying ‘Shion, you feed on me as often as you please,’ and I’d NEVER fet that. And ter, some night when you’re asleep and I’m hungry… Ryu…”

  Her dry pupils burhemselves into my eyes.

  “I’d suck every st drop of blood from your body before I even realized what I’d done. And there’d be NOTHING you could do to stop me and… that’s how it would be.”

  I nodded slowly, letting everything she said sink in. I’m so dumb. Shion is the first person I’ve met here, and she drank my blood, and I’m imagining hanging out with her in the on room like she’s a coworker. Or just a regur high school cssmate. And the thing is… I wanted her to be, but she never could. Not now.

  She stepped back. The tension snapped like a wire pulled too tight. She looked at me again, softer this time. But not any less dangerous.

  “Yeah. You should wait out here,” I said.

  She leaned against the wall, arms folded, gaze tilting up toward the ceiling like this was just another afternoon. It wasn’t. I swallowed hard and slid the door shut. Only when I was inside, away from her, did I realize my hands were shaking.

  I walked into my room a an uling mix of familiarity and alienation. These were my things—but remade, altered, brought here. Or rather, they were things that Ryu had brought to his room at Shin’yume-sou. Our tastes were simir enough to be eerie.

  A desk sat beside the patio door, which opeo a small porch overlooking the owo closet doors stood shut to the left. His futon y in the middle of the room, still unmade from this m. A coud side table lihe right wall.

  I opehe drawer in the ter of the desk. Yes! Letters, a folder… Oh my god. I had paperwork here. A schedule for Crest Moon Academy, grades from Ryu’s former schools. Adopted parents.

  Ryu’s life was like a twisted mirror of my own.

  He was born in Elkins, West Virginia—just like me. But in a different year. Then, our lives split. When he was four, his Japanese parents adopted him, and they moved to Osaka. When he was ten, they moved to Kyoto. And Ryu… had problems. He had a reputation as a rebel. Crest Moon Academy was the only school that accepted him.

  I exhaled slowly, slipping the identification papers into Ryu’s book bag and slinging it over my back.

  "Oh, thank goodness," I muttered.

  In the er, against the wall, a guitar. My guitar. It even looked like mi bck, with dragon stickers.

  “You really lean into the whole ‘Dragohetic, don’t you?” I muttered, smirking.

  "Who are you talking to?"

  I jumped.

  "Who’s there?" I tried to keep my voice steady.

  Silence.

  Then—

  A whisper. Faint. Soft. Like someone speaking from another room, their voice barely slipping through an old vent.

  "You hear me? For real?"

  A girl’s voice.

  My heart pounded. " you speak up? I hear you, but barely,” I said loudly.

  BANG.

  Someone downstairs smacked the ceiling.

  "Nya! Keep it down up there! Yelling hurts Natsumi’s ears!"

  "Sorry, Natsumi," the whispered voice murmured.

  I swallowed hard. "Where are you?" I asked, quieter this time but still firm. I moved toward the wall, pressing my palm against it. Maybe she was in another room?

  "Shhh… you use your normal voice." The whisper came agaile, deliberate. "I’m right here, Ryu. Standing beside you."

  A chill crept up my spine. My breath caught.

  “You just ’t see me,” she whispered.

  My eyes sed the room—slowly. Carefully.

  "My name’s Yuki Fuyuzora."

  The whisper softened. "The ghost of Shin’yume-sou."