Chapter Text
Night in Bangkok is never truly silent, not even in the outskirts where old apartment buildings huddle together like crooked teeth. The rain had just let up, leaving behind the sharp scent of wet asphalt and damp trash wafting from the narrow alleys.
On the third floor of a place called "Rungaroon Residence" a name far too grand for a building with peeling paint, Bonnie Pattraphus was performing her pathetic nightly ritual: counting spare change.
"Twenty baht... thirty... thirty five..."
Bonnie let out a long sigh. It was so heavy that her sweat slicked bangs actually fluttered. She sat cross legged on the wood patterned vinyl floor, the edges of which were already curling up. Spread out before her was her "treasure": coins from various transactions, a few crumpled bills, and receipts from the convenience store where she worked part time.
The room was tiny. Seriously tiny. If Bonnie stretched out both arms, her right fingertips would hit the plastic cabinet and her left would bump the bathroom door. A thin folding mattress lay in the corner next to a short desk piled with Law textbooks and stacks of instant noodles.
"If I live on minced pork noodles for the next two weeks, I can pay the electric bill," Bonnie muttered to herself, her fingers tapping on a phone calculator with a cracked screen. "But I'm out of laundry soap. Out of shampoo. And that damn professor wants the paper printed in color."
She rubbed her temples. Bonnie was the definition of modern burnout. At twenty one, she was pretty but faded, like a lightbulb running on low voltage. She had permanent dark circles under her eyes. She was rocking an oversized tshirt from a freshman orientation two years ago and elephant pants.
Bonnie's life was an endless cycle: morning classes, afternoon assignments, the convenience store shift until 11 PM, and then home to calculate the remains of her life. No room for drama, no room for love, and definitely no room for guests.
But the universe had a dark sense of humor that night.
THUD!!!!
It sounded like an explosion, but wetter. Something or someone had just slammed into the tiny balcony outside Bonnie's sliding glass door. The "balcony" was really just a drying rack area no bigger than a square meter.
Bonnie jumped. The coins in her lap scattered everywhere, clinking loudly against the floor.
"What now?" she hissed, panicked. Her mind immediately jumped to the worst case scenarios: A burglar? An obese stray cat? Or maybe the neighbor on the fourth floor dropped their entire laundry rack?
Before she could grab her broom, the sliding door (which was unlocked because the latch was broken) burst open. The humid night air rushed in, bringing with it a figure that made Bonnie's logical brain short-circuit.
A woman stood there. Or rather, staggered there.
She was tall. Way taller than Bonnie. She was wearing an oversized black suit that looked incredibly expensive, the kind of fabric Bonnie wouldn't touch in a lifetime. but now it was caked in mud with a long rip down the sleeve. Her hair was jet black, cut into a sharp, messy wolfcut that framed her face with a wild, aristocratic vibe.
Her skin was pale. Not sick pale, but pale like porcelain that had never seen the sun.
The woman, stepped into the cramped room, her breath hitched. She wasn't panting like someone who had just jumped from a height or run a marathon, her chest barely moved. She just looked... tense.
She shut the glass door behind her with a quick, silent motion, then turned to face Bonnie.
Those eyes. Bonnie froze for a second. The stranger's eyes were sharp, a very dark brown, almost black but they caught the neon light of the room in a weird way.
"Turn off the light," she commanded. Her voice was low, raspy, and had that natural authority that made you want to obey without asking.
But Bonnie wasn't some royal servant. Bonnie was a broke student whose precious coins had just been kicked aside by this intruder's expensive leather boots.
Bonnie grabbed the broom leaning against the wall. "Who are you?! Get out! I'll scream!"
"I said turn off the light, Human!" She snapped, her eyes scanning the tiny room with a mix of disgust and alertness. "They can see my shadow from outside."
"Who's 'they'?! The police? Are you a fugitive?" Bonnie stepped back, brandishing the broom like a sword. "Get out or I'll hit you! I'm serious! This broom is filthy, it's covered in dust!"
She's scoffed. It was the sound of pure condescension. She didn't have time for this. The Shadow Hunters, the tracking dogs of the Thasorn Clan, had to be prowling the rooftops nearby. She had broken The Sacred Veil. She had fled the elders' court, and the sentence had been carried out before she could fully escape.
She needed a hiding spot. Now.
She took a step forward. The aura in the room shifted instantly. The air felt colder, as if an invisible AC had been cranked to the lowest setting.
Bonnie felt the hair on her neck stand up. Her primal instincts screamed that the woman in front of her was dangerous. A predator. The way she stood, the way she looked at Bonnie's neck, everything radiated a threat.
"Listen," She said coldly, stepping closer until the tip of Bonnie's broom touched her suit jacket. She didn't flinch. "I won't repeat myself. Shut up, sit in the corner, and let me stay here until sunrise. If you make another sound..."
She leaned in. Her face was now only inches away from Bonnie's. Bonnie could smell her, not sweat, but a strange scent of rain, cold metal, and wilted night blooming jasmine.
She opened her mouth. She intended to do what she had done for centuries to subdue defiant humans. She was going to flash her fangs, hiss, and let fear paralyze this noisy little girl. Fangs were a symbol of power. Fangs were a weapon.
She gave a wide smirk, pulling back her lips to reveal her predatory teeth, letting out a low growl from her throat.
"Grrrrhh..."
Silence.
One second. Two seconds. Three seconds.
Bonnie's eyes, which had been wide with terror, slowly squinted in confusion. She lowered her broom slightly.
"What?" Bonnie asked flatly.
She remained in her menacing pose, waiting for Bonnie to scream or faint. But the reaction was all wrong. Why wasn't she shaking?
"What are you doing?" Bonnie repeated, her tone shifting from scared to weirded out. "Do you... have a toothache? Or are you just showing off how straight your teeth are?"
She froze.
Reality hit her harder than the fall onto the balcony. She forgot. In the panic of her escape, she had totally forgotten.
The punishment from the Clan Elders. Before she had managed to leap from the castle window, the binding spell had hit her. They hadn't killed her; they had done something far more humiliating for a noble vampire. They had pulled her fangs.
She quickly clamped her mouth shut, pressing her lips tight. Her pale face suddenly flushed a deep red, a physiological phenomenon that shouldn't be possible for the undead, but shame apparently transcends biology.
She had just tried to roar like a lion, but all that came out was a ridiculous smirk with blunt, ordinary human teeth.
"You..." Bonnie stared at her strangely. Her fear evaporated, replaced by the skepticism of a Bangkok girl who had seen way too many crazy people on the street. "You break into my room, get mud all over my floor, and then hiss at me like an angry cat? Are you drunk?"
Emi's pride shattered into a million pieces. She, Emi Thasorn, daughter of a pure bloodline, was being humiliated by a girl in elephant pants in a nine square meter room.
"I am not drunk!" Emi snapped, but her authority was gone. Without her fangs or a real physical threat, her tall stature now just looked awkward in the cramped space. "Enough! I just need a place to rest!"
"No way!" Bonnie's survival instinct the financial one kicked back in. She pointed at the door.
"This isn't a hotel! If the landlady finds out someone is staying here, I'll get fined 500 baht! Do you know how many instant noodles I can buy with 500 baht? Two whole boxes! Get out!"
She massaged her temples. This headache was new to her. Hunger also started to gnaw at her stomach, a human hunger, not a thirst for blood, which was another side effect of the curse. Being "almost human" was absolute torture.
"I can't go out," She said, her voice dropping, losing its arrogance as she felt cornered. "Outside... there are bad people chasing me. If I go out, I die. And if I die in front of your door, you're the one who's going to have a hard time dealing with the police."
Bonnie went quiet. That argument actually made sense. A dead body in front of her room would definitely mean her security deposit was gone for good.
"That's not my problem," Bonnie said stubbornly, though her grip on the broom started to loosen. "Do you see this room? It's tiny! I have to walk sideways just to get between the bed and the desk. There's no room for you."
She looked around desperately. Her gaze fell on her left wrist. There sat a watch. A limited edition Patek Philippe, an heirloom from a victim, rather, from her family's 1950s collection.
It was the only valuable thing she had brought. This was supposed to be her capital to rebuild her power, but right now, surviving the night was more important.
With stiff movements, She took off the watch.
"Here," She held the watch out toward Bonnie.
Bonnie narrowed her eyes. "What's that? A fake from the night market?"
She's jaw tightened. "It's real, you stupid human. It's platinum. The price of this could buy this entire dump of a building, along with all the rats inside it."
Bonnie's eyes went wide. She set down the broom and tentatively took the watch. It was heavy. Cold. And the detail... even Bonnie, who was fashion blind, could see the intricate machinery through the glass back.
"Are you... trying to bribe me?" Bonnie asked, her voice shaking. Not from fear, but because the calculator in her head was tallying up the zeros.
"It's not a bribe. It's rent," She corrected sharply. She crossed her arms, trying to regain some dominance. "Let me stay here. Until... things are safe. Maybe a few days. Or weeks."
Bonnie swallowed hard. "Stay? Here? Together?" She pointed at her, then herself. "I don't know you. You're weird. You came in through the window. And you have a haircut that's... okay, your hair is actually pretty cool, but that's not the point!"
"My name is Emi," the woman interrupted. "And I won't bother you. I just need a dark corner to sleep in. I don't eat much. I'm not loud."
Bonnie weighed the watch in her hand. If she sold this, it could pay her tuition until graduation. She could even rent a decent apartment. But... taking in a stranger?
"Conditions," Bonnie said suddenly, looking Emi in the eye. Her business brain had taken over.
Emi raised an eyebrow. "You dare give conditions to..." Emi caught herself. To a noble vampire? No, you're just a fangless hobo now. "What are the conditions?"
"One," Bonnie held up a finger. "You sleep on the floor. That mattress is mine. My sovereign territory."
Emi looked at the dirty linoleum floor. Utterly insulting. But she gave a stiff nod.
"Two," Bonnie continued. "You have to help clean. I hate doing dishes. If you're staying here, you're not a guest, you're an extra pair of hands."
Emi's eyes widened. "Me? Wash dishes? These hands," she held up her slender fingers, "are used to holding crystal glasses of the finest win wine, not a dish sponge!"
"Then take your watch and go back out the window," Bonnie held the watch back out.
Emi ground her teeth. The sound of her teeth gnashing was audible. "Fine. Dishes. What else?"
"Three," Bonnie looked Emi up and down. "Don't try anything funny. If you bring your weird friends here, or if it turns out you're a drug dealer, I'm calling the cops. And don't expect me to feed you. I can barely afford to feed myself."
"I don't need your disgusting human food," Emi replied haughtily, though her stomach growled right then and there. Crap. Her body was adapting too quickly to its new weaknesses.
"Good," Bonnie said firmly. She tucked the watch into her boxer pocket possessively. "My name is Bonnie. And don't touch my manga collection."
Emi let out a long breath, her shoulders sagging. An overwhelming exhaustion suddenly hit her. She looked at the corner of the room, tucked between the shoe rack and a stack of water crates.
"There?" Emi asked, pointing to the cramped spot.
"There," Bonnie stated. "Take the old blanket from the cabinet if you want. But don't expect a pillow."
Emi Thasorn, former apex predator, feared noble of the night, dragged her feet to the corner of the tiny Bangkok room. She sat on the hard floor, hugging her knees. Her expensive suit gathered dust.
Bonnie sat back down in her original spot, picking up the scattered coins.
An awkward silence filled the room. Only the sound of the dusty fan spinning slowly could be heard.
Bonnie glanced out of the corner of her eye. The woman, Emi looked pathetic. Like a haughty wet cat. A tiny bit of guilt pricked Bonnie's heart, but she brushed it off. Remember Bonnie, the world is cruel. You need money. She needs a place. It's business.
"Hey," Bonnie called out without looking over.
Emi looked up slightly. "What?"
Bonnie tossed a package of cream-filled bread that was a bit squashed, leftover expired food from the convenience store that employees were allowed to take. It landed right in Emi's lap.
"Eat," Bonnie said curtly. "Your stomach is too loud. It's messing up my focus while I count my money."
Emi stared at the cheap plastic wrapper. 7-Eleven bread. Plebeian food. Food full of preservatives and artificial sugar.
Slowly, Emi's hands opened the package. She took a small bite. It was sweet, sticky, and strange. There was none of the metallic tang of blood she usually enjoyed. But as the bread went down her throat, a warmth spread through her.
"Thank you," Emi murmured, very softly, barely audible.
"Huh? What did you say?" Bonnie asked, pretending she didn't hear.
"Nothing," Emi turned away, chewing her bread while staring at the peeling paint on the wall.
Outside, the rain began to fall again, masking Emi's scent from whoever was hunting her. Inside room 404, two girls with opposite fates were now stuck together. One had lost her power, the other was fighting to find the strength just to survive tomorrow.
And this was only the first night.