Sakura shuffled through wet streets, just another blur in the busy crowd. The rain was light, only a mere mist at this point, but the strikes of water against her nylon umbrella seemed to vibrate her very bones. Other than muted conversation and the slide of a rare car across tarmac, the predominant noise was the susurrus of feet and water slapping together in the hurried, miserable march she associated with Tokyo.

Yoshiwara had been different—same place, another time—but to dwell on old memories was to invite nostalgia. The Formula's magic, buzzing beneath her skin, cherished nostalgia and might be inclined to punish her for taking it into a city so far removed from her past. So she ignored the crowds, the streetlights, and the metal vending machines that stood sentry at every corner, the ultimate testament of change.

Here is food, but with no one to cook it or guard the purse.

She averted her eyes.

Instead she focused on the things she did recognize. The buildings, like tall courtesans posed on either side of the streets, colorful and garish with their signs for accessories and electricity for their jewelry. Windows acted like designs on their concrete kimonos. The antennas and flags jutted from walls like hairpins, and sidewalks rimmed the buildings' bases like skirts and geta. Sakura counted the white, orderly crosswalks, their numbers familiar and their patterns soothingly repetitive. The Formula appreciated them the most, so she let it stroke the painted rectangles, reveling in the brief but sweet relief being free offered.

And then someone would cross the street, and the Formula would perk up, eyeing newer things with suspicion. The magic was meant to protect her—to either alert her of danger or control her body when her instincts failed to pass muster—but Sakura could only think of the Formula as a burden, like a net that dragged her backwards and weighed her down. 

Ducking under an awning, she shook out her umbrella while discreetly checking her wrist. It was six in the morning, and even though clouds hung heavy overhead, she could almost imagine the burn of sunlight waiting somewhere beyond, like a predator preparing for ambush. 

A steady crowd was already congregating the streets, the blur of faces and shapes scraping irritably against the Formula. Despite the discomfort, Sakura had to think of her situation as proof of her achievements. How many other vampires could successfully navigate a city two hundred years divided from their original era, all the while restrained by a magic that reviled all things that changed and moved?

Her watch beeped, warning her that sunrise was coming. She'd wasted time, staring at nothing.

The Formula hummed, and Sakura's head snapped up, her gaze following its guiding finger to a corner three streets down. There, emerging from the shadows with predatory confidence, was a tall but slim Korean man in a dashing, dark suit. He was handsome. Extremely handsome, in fact; the sort of man who'd make Sakura look twice and wish she hadn't sold her heart to a different devil. But he was also a danger to her, more so now than ever because he was flanked by two females, their eyes glowing liquid and the scent of a new Circle rolling off their shoulders.

She cursed, her fingers clenching hard on her umbrella handle. The plastic moaned under her grip.

He figured out how to craft a Circle?

No, surely he hadn't. Sakura's generation had dissolved all the active Circles, and they had sworn never to raise another. Then, had one of Sakura's betrayed their kind to the new generation?

The women had a tension about their shoulders and a cruel curve to their mouths that suggested they were aggression anchors. Plus Min-ho, that made for three aggression anchors in one Circle. What a foolish, stupid thing for him to do. Their emotions were linked, now, and if only one of their group went berserk, the rest would helplessly follow. For vampires, it was not a question of 'if' they would lose control. 

But 'when.'

'That's why he wants me, then,' Sakura realized grimly. As a submissive, she specialized in controlling aggression anchors. In her heyday, Sakura could manage Circles with as many as seven anchor. Supporting a measly Circle of three would be an easy for her. Supporting an entire generation of watered-down, imitation vampires? Also, easy. No doubt, Min-ho viewed Sakura as his generation's salvation. 

What an idiot. Her generation hadn't rejected the Circles without good reason. But though she'd already tried to explain the dangers to Min-ho, he'd refused to heed her warnings. Desperation made a man willing to risk the deaths of a few, to save the lives of thousands. But of that few was Sakura's elder sister Yasuko.

She would rather the entire new generation be wiped out, than endanger her sister. 

Slowly, Sakura melted into a business crowd. She didn't blend well, with her naturally-reddish hair and amber eyes, and so she tucked her umbrella closer to her head, relying on it as a shield. She didn't know what tools Min-ho was using to track her, but she wasn't going to give him any handicaps. If anyone needed an advantage, it was her. Though she lacked a weapon, the Formula didn't differentiate between attack or self-defense; it would punish her as if she was an aggression anchor, locking her muscles tight until the violence was banished from her thoughts. Min-ho had a Circle but no Formula, and so he wouldn't be subjected to the same limitations that chained her.

She let the Formula focus on Min-ho and his entourage, tracking their movements even as she turned her back and strode away. The Formula clung to Min-ho even as she went around a corner, but its strength flagged, its attention starting to divert to nearer, more interesting variables. She tried to steer the magic in the right direction, to focus on her pursuers, but it was ancient and, while not sentient, acted per its own logic.

Where would she go? She wasn't familiar with much of Tokyo, and not at all familiar with anything outside it. Leaving the city—even this small area—was not something the Formula would easily forgive. It had taken years of practice to achieve as much as Sakura had.

She had to get a hold of her sire. More than that, she needed to be in a Circle, despite the consequences. Min-ho couldn't touch her if she was already enCircled, and the Formula only wouldn't encumber her if it sensed Circle magic around her neck. With the aid of a Circle, she might even be able to leave Tokyo—Japan, this side of the world—and track down her sister.

'But to be in a Circle...I promised Ya-nee I wouldn't...'

Sakura sighted a familiar signpost—an Internet cafe—and though Min-ho was closer than she liked, seeing the building gave her a burst of relief. 

She had to warn Yasuko; Min-ho wasn't working alone. Someone had given him hints about the Circle, to get this far along, and if Sakura was ensnared, individuals like her sister would be soon to follow. 

The cafe's doors curled outwards like stiff, glass petals, welcoming her within. A blast of cold air tickled her face, chilling the cool sweat that had gathered on her forehead and clearing her mind. Even though it was early morning, there were a handful of people in the cafe. There were nooks and corners aplenty, promising shelter from unwanted eyes. She claimed a monitor close to the rear exit, with her back to the wall and a tall bookshelf on one side like a brooding protector.

Crouching low, she summoned an email to send to her sister. In another window, she logged into a chat browser and keyed in Naihe's last known username. An old message awaited her, grayed out and lonely.

SaNaginata: naihe

The message's timestamp reminded her, cruelly, that a week had passed. No response from him.

She tapped her fingers restlessly against the keyboard, her anxiety fighting against the Formula for dominion. Naihe and Yasuko talked, often enough that Sakura could sense it unsaid in the blank spaces of her sister's emails. But he'd never once responded to Sakura's own attempts of communication, and she didn't know if that was a result of the Formula or an altogether different sign.

She pressed her fingers to the keys, the tips bloodless with fear. Another fear, greater than any threat Min-ho posed, unfurled in Sakura's breast. Humiliation. Longing. Guilt, too.

So much guilt...

SaNaginata: naihe I'm in trouble

SaNaginata: in tokyo had to leave cage, new gen trying to circle me

Still no response.

Her frustration sour in her mouth, she started typing her email to Yasuko.

'Ya-nee. Minho attacked me. Please protect yourself. Im coming for you.'

Sakura dug the heels of her hands against her eyes, her watch humming a second reminder of the coming sunlight. Time was running out. She set her hands back onto the keyboard.

SaNaginata: naihe if you love her you have to help me

SaNaginata: if not for me for her

SaNaginata: im going to find her are u going to helpakjerw;la qn

Her hands spasmed. 'Danger!' the Formula shrieked in her mind, overwriting all her thoughts with panic. Against her will, she surged upright, her head swiveling to the cafe's windowed view of the street. There, standing under the rain was Min-ho and his Circle. 

Staring. At her.

A ghostly, beatific smile crawled up his face, like she was something precious he'd lost and welcomed home. Even as handsome as he was while bedraggled, Sakura saw him as a kappa, a water spirit determined to drag and drown her underwater, where he would violate her and partake of her flesh. 

She knew, if caught this time, there was no escaping. Min-ho would wrap his perverted Circle around her like a net and squeeze until she gave up her secrets. Until she submitted and let him and his cronies feed off her weakness. And then, none of the her generation—her vampires, her sister—would be safe.

'Ya-nee.'

The Formula screamed again, and she ran, shoving through the rear exit into an alleyway. The trill of a fire alarm heralded her escape, accusing. The Formula's magic whipped around her, startled by the screeching alarm.

She pounded into the drenched streets.

The morning mist had escalated into an angry downpour. Brutal, it hammered against her bare skin like a million tiny, tapping fingertips. The rain limited her visibility further, and the Formula found the rain too stimulating, screaming with offense. A part of her wanted to simply stand still and regain her bearings, but Min-ho was right there, painted a violent color by the Formula's magic. His hand stretched out. She ducked, and his fingers slipped through her hair. She dived deeper into the crowd. 

Humans and supernatural alike pulsed away from her. No one offered to help. No one cared. Amongst hundreds, and she felt awfully alone. 

One of the other vampires appeared in front of her. The Formula forced Sakura to veer to the left...into the second vampire. Sakura jumped backward. Her back met resistance—a hard chest.

Arms like iron bands embraced her. No, trapped her.

No no no no no!

She screamed. Spots danced black and mocking in her vision. 

Min-ho was going to drag her into a Circle. He was going to enslave her. And she, unwilling to resist, would give him everything he asked for. Including her sister.

Sakura would die before she let him.

The magic of the Formula rebelled, as did her own heart. If she died, she had no illusions of what would happen to Yasuko. Sakura wasn't humble about how much her sister loved her; it was, in fact, the only thing she was confident in.

Min-ho yanked her head to the side. Her feet cleared the pavement. She kicked and flailed, but she only hit air.

Yasuko would have fought. Between the two, she was the dragon, while Sakura was a mere garden snake—pale, terrified of being stepped on.

A growl rippled through Min-ho's chest, along with an English curse demanding her compliance.

'I'm sorry,' she whispered in her mind, wishing there was a Circle to connect herself to her sister, wishing she could once again feel the warm embrace of Yasuko's soul alongside hers.

Wedging her tongue between her teeth, Sakura drew blood. Bit down harder. Min-ho would take her flesh, but she wasn't going to let him stop. Not until he'd torn open her throat and turned her useless to his cause.

Blood dripped from her mouth. Through the haze of pain and panic, she saw the female vampires perk up. Aggression anchors...they wouldn't let Min-ho feast alone. 

It would hurt. It scared Sakura so much that she wanted to cry. 'I don't want to be eaten. I want to live. I don't want to die.' But Yasuko, she had to protect Yasuko. For her sister, she would make this sacrifice.

She tore at her lip, too. In her mind's eye, she saw Yasuko's face, beautiful and fiercely affectionate.

Sakura's blood tasted like spice and metal. Honey.

'I love you, Ya-nee.'

Min-ho's mouth lowered on the side of her neck...and then they were airborne. Flying, sideways. But someone reached out, yanking Sakura by the arm. Her bones screamed in protest. Pain turned her vision white, but she was in somebody's arms, the smell of tea leaves so strong that it overpowered everything else. It made the Formula, suddenly, fall into quiet, the magic wrapping around her savior with aching, loving tenderness.

She raised her head and met the familiar pitch-black eyes of the man she and her sister had loved. The same man who had sired her.

Min-ho and his vampires were rising to their feet. They looked like wet dogs, feral now that blood—her blood—was in the air. 

"Nai—" Before she could finish, he seized a fistful of her hair and forced his mouth upon her own. His tongue pried the seam of her lips. He crushed her to him, and at the taste of her blood, he moaned, a shudder rolling through him and into her. Sakura wanted to sink into his fever, to pretend that this was the kiss of a dehydrated man who finally found water. Despite all her assertions otherwise, despite the love she had for Yasuko, despite her determination and betrayal and self-hatred, she wanted to melt into his skin, to meld with him and find herself as the only reflection in his eyes.

And then she remembered how wonderful a vampire's blood tasted.

Naihe's eyes were not full of ardor or love, not even fondness or recognition. There was no kiss, no cherishing embrace or valiant rescue. He was a vampire, and she was prey. He hadn't come to save her. He'd come to feed.

He pulled back, teeth bared, his lips stained wine red. His eyes, monstrous, showed no reason, no echo that he knew her as anything other than a meal. He'd eat her, just as readily as Min-ho and his own, and it would ache all the more because Sakura loved him. Even now, in the midst of danger, after she'd resolved to commit suicide...a part of her still dreamed that he could love her.

'Those are just dreams. Wake up, Sakura.'

Before he could angle his mouth for her throat, she lunged forward, her own fangs locking around his shoulder. He had her blood already, and now she would have his. Her teeth punctured flesh, and the magic of the Circle sparked like fire through her veins. 

'This is for Ya-nee. I'm doing this for her.'

All the same, Yasuko would be furious. But at least Sakura would survive.

❁