Gift Traveling Through Domains (Fan Fiction)

風の中でも 負けないような声で


時はまくらぎ 風はにきはだ

星はうぶすな 人はかげろう

Though wobbling in wind

I will still use an unwavering voice

To shape what I have wanted to deliver

Time is railway sleepers, wind strokes the skin

Stars are guardian gods, humans are ephemeral butterflies


His Family | Mansion Lasombra, Detroit, USA | 2014 AD


Run and Hunt. That’s your creed. But now, you are the prey.

“That Assamite is heading towards your direction. Catch it.”

Ahh…I just want to find a commemorative birthday gift for Sensei. You guys are too inhospitable.

Having that in mind, you decisively step against the wall, aim at one antique vase on the shelf, and pivot to kick it violently in the direction of the pursuer.

This is Lasombra’s Mansion in 2014, as resplendent as shown in the documentaries you watched in 2505. They really know how to enjoy life in this case. If the time machine allows you to stay longer, you’d definitely stop and appreciate this well-designed masterpiece.

Employing Celerity to distance yourself from people behind, you assess the environment and decide to hide on the windowsill around a nearby corner. Obfuscate always helps with this kind of situation. People unconsciously avert their gazes and it seems like no one could locate you.

You hear the vase shatter at your anticipated timing. While they are still perplexed in chaos, you aim at the window of a room downstairs and jump right in, not triggering any noticeable sound.

Rolling over and clenching the dagger, you switch to your regular hunter mode, ready for a swift action.

However, what awaits is tangible darkness and silence, just like the center of the night. Somehow, you sense a familiar aura spreading from a corner to the whole space.

You smelled Hiroshi’s blood.

This is the first time you see him in such a state.

“Aha… You monsters can’t get satisfied with only ruining my eyes, can you? Now you want to deafen me as well?” the speaker flings an object from a remote corner of the room.

You hear this familiar voice but can barely recognize this act. Almost on instinct, you slide the dagger back into its sheath, leap up to snatch that flying object, and land on the floor steadily without any flinch.

An ashtray…seems like a nice gift…

You look in the direction where the ashtray came from, eyes widening in astonishment.

You’ve never seen Hiroshi like that. Vigilance pulled him off the bed. Bleeding wounds and the blood oozing out the bandage on his eyes constitute the only vibrant color on his pale face. His legs dangle in a weird gesture, barely connected to the torso. He looks like a broken machine.

“Ahem…an Assamite? Here for food? Just come and try if you dare.” You were well hidden but the chaos just now informed the whole mansion of an alien’s presence.

“Fuck off, monster.” he swings his fist in a certain direction.

Frightened by his cursing and anger, you quickly hide yourself a short distance away.

“Are you sure it’s here? Did you see…” the intruder opens the door and looks contemptuously at the boy who is teetering to adjust his posture for a potential fight.

“Oh it’s the trash picked by Adine. I remember you wanted to kill her. How did you wind up like this?”

The intruder walks into the room as if he owns this place, violently lifts Hiroshi by the arm, and throws him on the bed, smiling jauntily.

The violent movement triggers several faintly uttered coughing.

The door is closed.


The prey is shocked for a second, and you’ve decided the time to hunt and kill.

In the blink of an eye, you reveal your presence and latch onto the prey’s body.

“No one talks to Sensei like that.” this is the last sound the prey hears before a suffocating landing of death.

There’s no need for him to apologize. You just want his mouth shut for good.

Swiftly, you shoved your fist directly into the prey’s mouth, as if trying to wedge his tongue into the throat. With the other hand, you slash his neck with the dagger. Your swiftness ends this Lasombra’s life before he had time to react. A deadly silence radiates from your body, plunging half of the room into perceivable motionlessness.

When the prey is still in dismay, you smoothly topple him to the ground, adjusting his position and straddling his back so that the carpet can absorb away most of the blood spurting out from his wound. Leaning your body down, you take a bite around the cut and start to gulp the red liquid ferociously.

Kill for mere instinct and drain the blood. This is what distinguishes you even from other fellow monsters.

Flavor and energy are not priorities at this moment. You just want this pathetic creature who insulted your Sensei to end up in the worst possible shape.

After several violent coughings, Hiroshi turns over on the bed, uttering some muffled groan.

Straddling the lifeless prey, you tense up in a panic. It must be a horrible thing for him to sense a kindred being devoured in this absolute silence.

The room is refilled with some tiny sounds.

You grope in the dark for some fabrics to wipe away the blood that still drips down from your jaw and hands. After checking your hygiene multiple times, you quickly trot over to the bedside and sit down on your knees.

Fumbling in your pocket for quite a while, you finally found the lighter and some cigarettes.

“What do you want!”

His hand tries to escape but is tightly clasped by your palms. You feel the temperature, exactly the same coldness as you could recall. Placing the cigarette between his fingers, you sit back gently without making any sound.

“Who the hell are you…” Hiroshi pinches the cigarette, obviously hesitant, but finally decides to stuff the cigarette into his mouth. Contented, you carefully surround the lighter’s flame with your hand in case the wind gets through the window you just broke into and puts it off. He acquiesced in your attempt to light the cigarette.

Against the flickering flame, the wounds on his face look even more terrible. You gaze at him for a moment.

A puff of smoke ascends slowly, turning into a thinner cloud near the ceiling. Everything quiets down.

“If…” he pauses, “if you are here to eat or steal things, you’d better run. Adine will come back in no minute. It’s impossible for you to escape by then.”

He props up his upper body and looks at you, “Adine, you know, the woman who reduced me to this.”

You get up on your feet, stuff the ashtray in a pocket and pull the blanket up to cover Hiroshi’s back.

This sudden intimate move did not trigger any gesture of repulsion. He continues smoking and drags the blanket a little bit so it can comfortably cover his head.

You walk to the window. A gust of wind carries moonlight onto your time locator. This amazing thing was invented by future Sensei.

You glanced back over your shoulder. Hiroshi smokes quietly under the blanket. The wind seems particularly cold to him.

With a quick leap, you exit the window, one hand gripping the sill as you lean in to gently close the frame.

Hiroshi, though enveloped in darkness now, will become really remarkable while incessantly aiming for the light forward. He will become a Sensei. Everything will turn better. Love and beautiful life await in the future. AI Chan will keep him company and so will a lot of wonderful friends. He may encounter some students who are really a pain in the ass, but there will be many students.

Fingers lingering on the windowpane, your mind drifts for a while.


Detroit, United States of America | 2505 AD


“You are here.”

Just crawling out of the machine, you look up to see someone standing there with arms crossed. He adjusts his glasses, with a serious expression on his face.

“Using the time machine without leaving any message. Do you want to get spanked that much?”

You fail to recognize his worry and slight anger, quickly pulling out the ashtray from your pocket.

“Sensei, look at this! Hiroshi Sensei, happy birthday!”

He is obviously in a perplexed shock, glancing at the ashtray and then landing his eyes on your excited face.

“In 2014…” he pauses for a moment, as if weighing his words, and points at you with a rather complicated expression.

“An Assamite intruded the Mansion, destroyed half of our antique collections, and consumed a kindred. In my worst situation, the Assamite lit a cigarette for me BUT TOOK AWAY MY ASHTRAY.”

You ponder for a second to process this logic. Yeah, it happened indeed.

You lower your head, frustrated.

“Ah…never mind.” He conjures a bitter smile and pats your head.

“Happy birthday to me.”

By Lyskevir