Brian: The war came, forcing all of us to put aside childish things and grow up—myself included.
Brian: It was a cruel and solemn mass farewell.
Brian: It forced every one of us to say goodbye to our dreams, to the past, and to the world we knew.
Brian: Before I knew it, I was conscripted and boarded an army jeep, venturing into foreign lands.

The atmosphere rises amidst the clinking of glasses, as if everyone should toast to the victory at hand ...
... while they still can.
Officer I: Cheers, gents!
He drains his glass in one gulp.
Officer II: To a brighter tomorrow!
Officer II: Sergeant Finn, why the hell are ya still clutching that little book of yours? You ain't writing sweet nothings to a dame back home, are ya?!
Brian: ...
Officer I: Come on, there's nothing wrong with that! And I can tell you now, Pete, when you get back home, you'll be spinning tales even taller than Brian here!
Officer I: Go ahead and write whatever you want, Brian, and don't forget to mention the part where I led the charge.
He slaps Brian's shoulder heartily. Brian clutches his notebook.
Brian: This isn't a letter; it's my research.
Officer II: Oh, now that's something ya don't hear every day! Lemme have a look!
He strides forward, snatching the notebook from Brian's hands.
Brian: Hey! They're just a few rough ideas! It's not finished yet!
The other man doesn't seem to care.
Officer II: "A compilation of data on mysterious vampires ..."
Officer II: Haha, you ain't got a torch for our Miss Julia, have ya?
Officer II: I'll admit, she's got a gentle touch when she's bandaging us up, and the way she draws blood is very light! I almost fell asleep the last time she did it.
Officer I: Tough luck, Brian. You've got more rivals here than a dog has fleas.
Officer II: But I'm sure comparing Miss Julia to a vampire would earn you a sock on the jaw from some of the straighter shooters in this squad.
They look at Brian with pity, as if mourning this lost cause.
Brian: This isn't for Julia.
Brian shakes his head firmly, a serious expression on his face.
Brian: Being called a vampire is hardly insulting! They're symbols of beauty, purity, and everlasting life.
Officer I: Haha, you say that, but have you ever even laid eyes on a real vampire?
Officer II: They're just made-up stories I believed when I was a kid.
Officer II: But I'll grant ya that they're pretty handy for spooking the little rascals!
Brian: ...
Brian: I've seen a real vampire.
They fall into a brief silence.
Officer I: ...
Officer II: ...
Then, a burst of raucous laughter.
Officer II: I gotta hand it to ya, Sergeant Finn; your sense of humor's something else. You've got a real knack for story-telling!
Brian: I'm being serious. When I was a kid, I saw her.
Brian: Ever since then, I've been on the hunt for more information about her, even just the slightest sliver.
Brian: She was perfect. Everything I could ever imagine. Just like—
Officer I: Haha, what are you looking at?
Officer II: Brian, ya don't think there's a vampire lurking somewhere at this shindig, do ya?
Brian scans the room, eagerly seeking to validate his claim.
The club is bustling with people. The heavy conversation and crisscrossing lights make his head spin.
As Brian's eyes sweep the room, he abruptly comes to a halt.
???: What a delight it is to see you here again, Mrs. Kate.
Kate: Isn't it just? It's been ages since we last saw each other!
Kate: Oh, how I envy you, Winnifred. You haven't aged a bit!
Winnifred: Heh. Time does have an elusive magic, doesn't it?
Brian's hands begin to tremble. He rubs his eyes in disbelief.
He tries to speak, but the lump in his throat says otherwise. Then he croaks out.
Brian: It's her ...
Before he realizes what he's doing, he's striding toward her.
Officer I: Hey, Brian, what's the big idea?
He tugs at Brian's sleeve, his voice lowered.
Officer I: Have you lost it, man?! I know she's a looker—even more so than Miss Julia—but that lady's way out of our league.
Officer I: I spied her over in the commander's office. Even the top brass tip their hats to her.
Officer II: I hear she's a special guest of our munitions supplier. Even got ties to the underground here, apparently. Ya better kiss that pipe dream goodbye.
He grabs the air where the cuff of Brian's shirt should be, but it is already gone.
Officer II: ...?

Brian is now standing in front of her, the notebook in his hand trembling violently.
Brian: Ahem. Hello ... ma'am.
Winnifred: Hmm ...?
Winnifred: Hello, sir. That was quite the entrance.
She smiles gently, seemingly used to such disturbances.
Brian: Oh, please accept my apologies, ma'am. I didn't mean to offend you; it's just ...
Brian: You look just like someone I met a long time ago.
Winnifred: Heh ... Not exactly the slickest line I've ever heard.
Winnifred: Sir, if you hope to make new acquaintances, I sincerely suggest you choose a less clichéd opener next time.
Brian: I'm gathering information on vampires. That's why I had to talk to you.
The lady before him chuckles ambiguously.
Winnifred: You catch on quick.
Winnifred: But do I really look like a vampire? Perhaps it's because of my striking white hair?
Winnifred: It is saddening when those noble ladies pester me to reveal the secret behind maintaining such a style.
Brian: No, no, you misunderstand.
Brian: I believe that vampires are a special race possessing advantages ordinary people don't.
Brian: For instance, using human blood as nourishment allows them to gain stronger physiques and, more importantly, maintain their vitality and appearance for much longer.
Brian: They're the embodiment of beauty and the favored children of God.
Winnifred: That's quite an imaginative theory.
Winnifred: But it doesn't quite align with medical science, does it?
She downs her drink in one swig.
Winnifred: The creatures that most closely resemble your description are bats. They feed on human blood and are active at night, but they don't gain long lives or beautiful faces in doing so.
Winnifred: On the contrary, they're filthy and germ-ridden, making them one of the animals we despise most. Even in the realm of arcane biology, no such individuals exist.
Winnifred: If there is, in fact, a race capable of eternal life, they would be marred by ugliness and prone to disease.
Winnifred: I, on the other hand, have heard some more substantial tales.
Brian: ...?
Winnifred: The Rusalki by the water's edge.
Winnifred: They have long flowing hair, snatch up sailors, and plunder their ships to maintain their appearance. Of course, rather than indulging in hearsay, you could always venture north and see them for yourself.
Brian: But I swear, I've seen you before.
Winnifred: Hush!
Winnifred: If you don't want to be seen as an agent of the underworld or a spy dispatched by an arms dealer, stop attracting so much attention.
Winnifred: Those people are all ruthless extremists. They don't want anyone more than necessary to be mixed up in emerging intelligence.
Winnifred: It'd be better for the both of us.
Brian: Thank you.
Brian looks around. His companions are still waving at him from afar.
Brian: Nevertheless, I still believe that vampires exist. I won't give up.
He nods and makes to leave.
Winnifred: Wait ... young man ...

It's an exquisitely crafted business card, with both deep and shallow patterns reflected on it. It feels almost watery to the touch.
Brian: ...!
Winnifred: Take it.
Brian: Winnifred ... ma'am ... My name's Brian!
Winnifred: Very good, Mr. Brian.
Winnifred: Maybe one day we'll do business together.
Brian: Ah ... Right.
Brian, momentarily stunned, realizes that she has already vanished without a trace.
He places the business card into his breast pocket, carefully smoothing out the creases.
Brian: But ...
Brian: Did I really remember it all wrong?

Open your eyes to see the future that we know?

An Old Dream Left

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