The handsome youth’s eyes flick towards Yuto’s and Yuto swallows hard, they’re black as jet, unnecessarily seductive. He grinds his hips just a little more to make the most of it, feels himself slipping just a little and then the cold hand is stroking down his throat, fingers tracing the chain of his necklace down beneath the collar of his shirt.
He’s a young one, most of them can sense it long before now, the age doesn’t matter though, Yuto has enough years already. His lips quirk into a smile as the young man’s fingers find the trophies at the end of the chain – vampire teeth – twenty nine of them.
An angry hiss rents the air apart but Yuto’s reflexes are good, he has the beautiful beast against the wall by the throat, a wooden stake pressing uncomfortably hard into his sternum. “Yamada? Do you know him?” Another hiss in response, the feral features so distorted from the elegant beauty with which the youth temped Yuto out into the alley. “Have you heard the name around here? Yamada Ryosuke?”
He gets another hiss, nails like talons reaching out to claw at his bared chest in frantic panic and Yuto huffs. Another dead end, quite literally. He gives the stake a sharp thrust, putting his weight into it and then staggers forward as the body in front of him disintegrates, leaving behind it a pile of clothes thick with ash.
He bends down, runs his hand through the debris until his fingers find something hard. Tooth number thirty, his thirtieth kill, it brings him no more joy than his first one did and yet he’ll add it to the collection all the same. The second of the oversized canines he leaves in the pile dust, a message to the others. A message to Yamada. I’m coming.