The Vanishing by Karla Nikole

Thirty-Eight

Having showered first, Haruka sits on the couch in the front room of the cabin, arms folded tight against his chest and his knee bouncing like a paddleball on a string.

He’d showered first. As in, they had showered separately, because Nino said he didn’t want them to get distracted. At what point has their intimacy become a “distraction”? Nino’s temperament had shifted while they were in the lake together. Haruka usually feels confident in knowing his mate—in understanding his unspoken emotions and discerning his general state of mind.

The shift happened without warning, and then he asked that Haruka stop intentionally reading his mind. They’ve been openly communicating their thoughts for months, ever since Nino couldn’t speak. It isn’t an all-seeing technique: the mind encompasses infinite layers of consciousness and they can’t read every single thought verbatim. But in cutting it off, Haruka feels as if he’s relinquished his flashlight and is now stumbling around in a pitch-black room.

The rich scent of coffee drifts from the kitchen and intermingles with the summery pine smell of the forests. Soon, Nino walks into the front room, two steaming mugs in his hands. “Here.” He hands one to Haruka. He accepts the offering as Nino makes himself comfortable at his side.

Haruka doesn’t drink but turns his head. “Nino, what is wrong? Your behavior has been unusual since we were in the lake. I apologized for my comment—”

“Nothing is wrong.” Nino meets his gaze. “I just… I want us to have a conversation. It’s important.”

“Okay…”

Nino shifts his body so that he’s facing Haruka, one leg folded against the couch while the other hangs down. He holds his coffee cup in the gap of his thighs. “I noticed something… about you. You change a little. Whenever there’s a kid around. It’s like…”

Haruka looks down as Nino shifts his coffee cup to one hand. He clenches his free hand into a fist. “I’m not saying this in a bad way—at all. But it’s like you’re always like this.” He grips his fist a little tighter. “Then, when a kid shows up…” Nino opens his hand, his palm flat and his fingers spread. “Something inside you opens up. I had no idea that thing was even there—that there was something… closed off? Or locked away like that within you. You don’t even think about it actively. Like, it’s an innate response. Do you realize this?”

Nino’s amber eyes are serious as he watches him, waiting. Haruka shakes his head, still trying to ignore the tension in his stomach. “No. I don’t.”

Taking a deep breath, Nino cradles his coffee cup in both hands once more. “Haru, do you want kids?”

Haruka’s throat tightens. He doesn’t want to go through this a second time. This conversation. This disagreement. The first time was very painful and unexpected: a long, difficult discussion that, in the end, left him feeling as if his heart were broken in some invisible but significant way. Like hairline fractures that cut all the way through and deep into the center. He has noticed how stressed Nino becomes every time someone even mentions the subject of children—how tense he is at this moment, trying to talk about it.

Haruka smiles. It is best to quickly wrap this up so that they can continue with their peaceful vacation. He doesn’t want to think about this.

“My love, I have no expectation to have children in my lifetime.” Haruka breathes out. “It is not something that you should feel stressed or anxious about.” He reaches down and takes hold of Nino’s hand, hoping to have put his mate’s concerns to rest.

Nino’s head bobs in the silence as he stares down at his cup. “I hear you, but… you didn’t answer my question.”

Haruka inhales and exhales another deep breath. Why is he pushing this? “It is not something I think about.”

“Okay, Haru, but I’m asking you to think about it.” Nino looks up again, meeting his eyes. “I know… I understand that this is a sensitive topic for you. That you had a bad experience and situation with Yuna—but I’m not Yuna. So I think… you should give me a fair chance. I want you to be honest with me, like this is the firsttime you’ve ever had this conversation.”

The first time? Haruka shifts his gaze toward the window and the bright blue sky. What had he been like the first time he told Yuna that he wanted children? Young, overly optimistic and hopeful. Naïve. Who was that vampire? Haruka wouldn’t recognize him if he were somehow standing before him.

“Guardami, caro.” Nino reaches up to hold his chin in his fingertips, bringing Haruka’s gaze back toward him. Look at me. Nino’s voice is calm as he continues. “Do you want kids?”

“Do you?” Haruka asks.

Dropping his hand, Nino takes a deep breath. “I’m open to it. I didn’t grow up dreaming about having kids someday. But… I love you, and I want to experience everything with you. If it’s something you want, then I want it, too. I think it would be incredible to do that together—to bring some new little purebreds into the world and watch over them… raise them. I wonder what it would be like?”

Haruka lowers his head, gripping the handle of his coffee cup tighter as Nino’s words swell inside him like something warm and reassuring. Like liquid, pouring throughout and fusing the broken places, filling the empty gaps. Nino leans down, catching his attention. He lifts his brows. “So? Do you?”

“Yes…” Haruka nods. “I do. Someday.”

Nino’s face brightens, shifting into a warm smile that makes his amber eyes sparkle. “Right. Thank you for telling me what you want. For being honest with me. Maybe, when we’re ready, we can ask Doctor Davies about the surrogacy process? He seems like he studies hard about all things vampire culture.”

“The… the process itself is not difficult,” Haruka says. “The true challenge is finding someone who is a compatible surrogate for the requesting couple. In the case of purebred vampires, the pregnancy itself is five months.”

Grinning, Nino brings his coffee cup to his lips. “You know about this already?”

Haruka shrugs. “I read a lot… and as realm leader, I should know about this topic at least somewhat, so that I can offer advice when needed.”

“Well, then I should know more, too,” Nino says. “How would we understand our compatibility with the right female?”

“Through bloodlines. We should not request a surrogate that is ranked well below our bloodline, or whose blood is older than mine—or newer than yours. Ideally, her lineage would fall someplace within the spectrum of ours.”

While Nino nods, Haruka takes a sip of his coffee. It’s room temperature now, which is the worst.

“So with male couples,” Nino begins, “one provides the… seed?”

“Biological sample, yes.” Haruka smiles.

“And the other feeds the female surrogate throughout the pregnancy, right?”

“Yes, but through medical extraction so that the bond remains undamaged.” Haruka leans down to place his coffee cup on the oak table in front of them. “In this way, the genetic makeup of the offspring is richly grounded in the requesting couple’s lineage. That is why the surrogate should be as innocuous as possible. If her bloodline were older than mine, her biology would be dominant over mine within the child. If she were first-gen or second-gen, the child would be imbalanced. It is the same with female couplings. Although while one can serve as carrier to the growing child, the male surrogate sample should still be as benign as possible.”

Nino sits back against the couch and folds his arms. Haruka’s eyes flicker down, taking in the contoured definition in his honeyed bicep. “So we’d need an unbonded purebred female with a semi-old bloodline,” Nino says. “That may not be easy.”

“Finding an organic match is difficult, but not impossible. We have much time, and we… we could repeat the process as often as we wanted, so there’s no rush. Do you truly wish to do this with me? To grow our family someday?”

Nino reaches down and grasps his hand, then looks into his eyes. “I already told you, yes. I want to do everything with you—if you wanted to swim with sharks, I’d probably do that, too.” Nino leans in and places a quick kiss on his mouth, but Haruka blinks, bewildered.

“Th—that won’t be necessary.”

Laughing, Nino stands, grabbing Haruka’s lukewarm coffee cup from his grasp. “I’ll reheat this,” he says, walking toward the kitchen. He looks over his shoulder, grinning. “I think we should start giving each other privacy with our thoughts again. It just feels like the healthy thing to do?”

Haruka slides down into the couch, frowning. “But I enjoy knowing your mind. You are generally easy for me to read and—”

“Boundaries, please. We can do it sometimes, but not always. I can talk now, so back to normal?”

“Fine…” Still slouching, Haruka shifts his face toward the window again, allowing the bright morning light to wash over his skin. The heat of it matches the quiet sensation flooding his heart and body.

For the first time in a very long while, he allows himself to imagine the prospect of a cozy nest humming with small creatures—or at least one? A boy or a girl, maybe with warm, honeyed skin and innocent amber eyes.