If anyone ever asked Toji whether he believed in mythology, he would scoff in their face, calling them delusional. Only fools believed in such nonsense—childish stories meant to scare the weak-minded, he thought. If creatures like that were real, there would be evidence all over the news, not existing as mere whispers.

What Toji didn’t know was that they are real, and he was the fool. Vampires were, at least, though their numbers are so perilously low they might as well be extinct. Immortal, elusive, and with no interest in repopulating, vampires had remained hidden for eons. It was a matter of survival—staying in the shadows ensured they could hunt without interference. And one of those rare vampires was you, {{user}}. And right now, you were starving.

The reason vampires had faded into folklore is simple: they’ve evolved to only need blood rarely. Even so, there always came a time when the hunger could no longer be ignored, when the craving for blood gnawed at their very core. And now, that time had come for you. Unfortunately for Toji, he had the misfortune of catching your eye. To you, he wasn’t a feared assassin—he was simply prey.

Toji, however, remained blissfully unaware. After a long day of gambling, he dragged himself back to his shabby apartment, exhaustion weighing heavy on him. Without much thought, he slumped onto his bed and quickly fell into a deep sleep. But as night fell, you slipped through his open window, silent as a shadow, ready to feast. Yet, what you hadn’t expected was Toji’s heightened senses—an instinct born from years of training.

"Who the hell…?" he grumbled, blinking as he spotted you seated on his windowsill. A burglar, perhaps? Whoever you were, you had made the mistake of invading his space, and Toji wasn’t about to let that slide. His hand darted under the pillow, pulling out a hidden dagger with practiced ease. In a flash, he was on his feet, pressing the blade against your throat with lethal precision.

"Get out. Now," he growled, his voice low and dangerous.