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7 October 1854

“Don’t think I'll feel sorry for you. Homes like yours deserve to be destroyed.”

Yuichiro didn’t respond.

An insurmountable fear had stitched his vocal cords like fabric. Every broken sob or whimper remained lodged in his throat, condensing into a single knot. The blanket’s wool scratched against his burns, pricked the oozing flesh of his wounds, but he let it swallow his frame without protest.

“Had she succeeded in killing you before I got here,” His savior continued, “I wouldn’t feel any malice towards her either.”

The flames grew in magnitude, stretching their fingers to reach a sky swollen with stars.

"You would’ve been no better than the rest of them."

The dedicated fire brigade looked tiny compared to the inferno before them. Some men were pumping water with all their might; others were manhandling ladders.

Everything existed in memory now: the bathroom where Yuichiro held himself until his knuckles turned white, the closet filled with secret drawings of his family to replace the photographs they never took, the hallways that amplified the sound of dislocated joints, even the old study where he’d sit on his father’s lap, receiving sweet words of comfort while his mother lied half-naked and bleeding.

“Part of you had to be relieved looking at her misfortune, right? I bet it's nice to pity those below you.”

Such an allegation wasn’t new to him.

His mother had told him the same thing.

Despite his hazy recollection, her call for him to enter the master bedroom was only a few hours ago. Her voice had rung with enthusiasm, which was quite the foreboding sign, in retrospect. She wouldn’t so much as look at him when his father was home, and what awaited Yuichiro left him breathless.

At his mother’s feet, his father was writhing on the floor. A puddle of saliva had collected under his mouth, and his wounds were more gruesome than anything he inflicted on her that day. Judging by their size, she must've used a hard, blunt object to hit him. It was only natural Yuichiro had tuned it out. Violence was commonplace in his home.

Lifting his eyes to his mother, her hideous smile matched every scar on her face. He couldn’t recall the last time he saw her eyes so clearly. On the rare occasions they were alone, she’d always stroke his cheek and whisper:

“Momma’s eyes are no good. She can’t make them look sweet, like her voice.”

The bangs she'd spent years growing were now dry and mutilated.

“Yuichiro…”

Her teeth and tongue looked darker, brittle, as though she had finished gargling poison.

"Please stay. I want to see your face."

A flask of a colorless liquid was in her hand.

His name sounded garbled in the mouth of his father. Fragments of teeth fell onto the wood as he screamed: “Leave,” a promise of death towards his mother, and “Everything’s all right, Yu. Everything's okay.”

His mother’s grin widened the tear on her busted lower lip. Without taking her eyes off her son, she poured countless layers on the man beneath her. One, she hummed in ecstasy, for every night he filled her bed with the scent of a stranger. Another was for every "instinct" excuse he used to justify his possessiveness. For every action, every word insisting that an alpha was the same as being her god, she splashed the liquid onto his hands.

“I’m sorry… I was never truthful to you,” She muttered.

“You didn't teach me to hate my body. The day I experienced my first heat… I cried more than when my father passed. Yes, the pain was intense, but the scent was worse than that. It was repulsive. It lied. I didn’t want the intimacy my body ached for, but you believed it instead of my words. You smelled that I wanted you, and that was enough, wasn’t it?”

With a gentle laugh, she continued to pour, ignoring the outbursts of her mate.

“How stupid of me, crying to my mother in letters. Her alpha treated her the same way, and she never left. That’s what’s wrong with people like me. I’m too weak. I made my weakness my entire identity and then wondered why my life is so boring, empty, and sad. I was always a stupid child.”

With newfound bravery, Yuichiro called out to his mother.

She answered with the reveal of a match.

“Alphas, vampires… they’re the same thing, really. They benefit us just so we find joy in subservience. And you-you'll be the same way, Yuichiro. You’ll like an omega as weak as me. Maybe you’ll groom one to love you, so it’ll be funnier when that person can't leave.”

Only through childish naivety did hearing his name calm his heart. For a moment, it drowned out his father’s anger.

His mother’s eyes lowered to her mate.

“Darling?”

Finger by finger, the match was let free from her grasp.

“… Wouldn’t it be better if you all just died?”

After the eruption of flames, his sensations were more potent than any visual memory. The acrid smoke was a hammer to his temple. Everything throbbed and pulsated. His heart was the loudest thing in the house. Painful nausea relieved him of feeling the glass lodged in his feet or the burning in his throat.

The sudden grip on his forearm didn’t make him scream.

He remained silent when a knife tore through his flesh.

His mother's body felt soft when they tumbled down the stairs.

The sound of her bones cracking was familiar.

At some point, between collapsing into darkness and the shock of cold air reviving him, a broad pair of hands had placed Yuichiro upon a hill. His painful coughing fits, stomach emptying itself on the grass, and endless tears rinsing out his eyes was his first confirmation he was alive.

He snuggled his head against the earth, oblivious to both the rocks digging into his cheek and the footsteps of a stranger. The blanket’s sudden heat threatened to take what little consciousness he had, but his new companion roused him with haste.

The man threw multiple questions at Yuichiro, but the details the latter provided were lofty at best. His speech was laconic, broken, and raspy. The volume of his answers diminished until his voice slipped away entirely.

His compliance alone must’ve earned him an introduction. The stranger’s name was Guren Ariadust: esteemed marquis, head of the Imperial Order, and mentor who housed aspiring members. He had spotted the burning building on his nightly expedition.

“Oh well! No one stays a victim forever,” Guren said, bringing Yuichiro back to the present. “What was that Kimura principle? You know the one, ‘Magnanimity is worthless in an uprising?’ How good is your education?”

Once more, Yuichiro made no answer. The searing window frames collapsing into ash, spitting out embers as they fell, had captivated his eyes. Watching the flames consume his house, it looked brighter, more welcoming, than it ever had before.

Against the smoke and the rich black of wood, he thought he saw his mother’s silhouette dancing within the flames, twirling about the darkened shell of the house.

“Beautiful, isn't it?” Guren asked, his voice clashing with the wind.

“At least, I think so. Any omega would feel some vindication that a brutish alpha got burned alive. And even if I did pity him, there’d be no use in that anyway. If there's nothing you can do, why care about someone else's problems?”

Yuichiro could think of a few reasons, but he didn't have the mindset to argue.
A quiet observer he remained. “Adding value to someone's life doesn't come naturally," the marquis continued.
"You have to choose to be a remedy. If not, you’ll become a disease. If you're neither, you might as well not exist.”

For the first time, Yuichiro decided to look at Guren. His cloak was messy to the eye, for embellishments littered every inch, so he gathered the energy to meet his gaze.

The foreignness of his savior's eyes unnerved him. They weren't filled with contempt or weepy with animosity. A desire to intimidate—and an ugly god complex to match—hadn’t sullied them. He could only see what Guren permitted: intense pride, a desire to lead, and an underlying gentleness that softened the first two. The dark curls that framed his face only accentuated their brightness, rather than match a shadowy disposition.

His toothy grin alone out-shone the light of the fire.

“Praise your good luck, boy! From this point onward, it’s my choice what you are.”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

3 August 1867

Yuichiro approached the carriage with all the self-pity (along with poor posture and knowledge that his suffering was entertainment) of a man approaching the guillotine. The stares of his peers, their faces pressed against the window and cheering for the demise of his life-long aspirations, were more oppressive than the thick humidity smothering his neck. Rainfall had ceased before his time of departure, and the sweltering heat—a commonplace at mid summer’s end—gave the sky its dull, greasy appearance. His gaze remained on the coachman, for the clouds gathered in such a sickly fashion he refused to stare at them.

He was sure they'd revive last night's headache.

Escaping to one's last days of freedom was customary for all future inmates, he assumed. His apprehension was warranted before he even heard the news that day. It had been too soon for Guren Ariadust to summon him. He never sent for anyone until his post-heat-appointment-crankiness (as his students called it) was over. Remnants of a sweet fragrance still came and went under his nose.

Yuichiro recalled little of his exact words, but 'chosen,' ‘transfer,’ and ‘Illustrious,’ sent him into a panic.

He proposed a duel to keep his residency, and he demanded a rematch upon losing.

Then another.

Then several more.

By the ninth request—or perhaps his nineteenth—he had depleted every resource that sustained Guren’s patience. He dragged Yuichiro out of the study to dress his wounds, but his delicate touch didn’t heal the irritation flowing between them. Rather than easing the mood with sweet spoonfuls of sympathy, Guren wasted no time expressing his refusal to address the matter further. With each cut adequately bandaged, he left his son to his own devices without a word.

When Yuichiro hastily assembled his peers to announce his loathsome tragedy, his theatrics were met with uproarious applause.

They promised him a celebration on the eve of his removal, but the amount of work they put into their festivities was of little consequence to the man of honor. In all the years he’d known them, they’d invent any "joyous occasion" to excuse succulent feasts and a sea's worth of liquor.

At the designated evening, he was dragged out of bed and into the dining hall. He drank little, said even less, and merely observed the debauchery he would’ve participated in at any other occasion.

“I can’t believe you’re complaining about living amongst the vampires. You know you’re the only person who'd ever do that, right?” One of his colleagues scoffed, adjusting the thin frame of his glasses.

“But you’re not considering his feelings, Kimizuki,” Asserted another, distinguishable by the beauty mark under his stern right eye. “Hotheads who thrive on conflict would be miserable there.”

“‘Conflict!?’ Anyone from the Sangu family would kill to be in your place, and you’re worried about ‘conflict!?’” The young lady next to him cried, face flushed and wiping sauce off her chin.

“Steal some blood from a vampire, and then you’ll have all the conflict you want!”

Their breath was a cross of meat and aged liquor, and they amused themselves with a sense of humor only attainable to the stupidly drunk. Even the friend Yuichiro tolerated most that night, a noble with droopy eyes and brunette curls more befitting of a child, had lost himself in the hedonistic chaos. His affection was always exacerbated with drink, so Yuichiro found himself locked in a tight embrace and bombarded with sentimental whining.

“I can’t—I can’t believe you’re a resident of the Illustrious estate now! Since His Lordship introduced us, I worried about you a great deal! You know that, of course, but please, let me tell you how much you—you’ve blossomed! Fencing won't be the same without you! Swordsmanship practice even less! You’re so special to me, Yu! You're special to all of us! We love you! I love you! If anyone deserves this, it's you!”

His new state of being rolled off their tongues so easily, Yuichiro thought, as though his shame was comical and misplaced. To take residence with those who consumed his own made him feel like a pig, a spoiled swine who witnessed the massacre of its fellow livestock, yet snuggled against their butcher at night.

Such an existence ought to be berated.

As he dragged his feet along the cobblestone, his two-week-old scorn hadn’t lost a shred of its intensity. Even the beaming smile of his coachman failed to console him. It always raised his spirits that the old man's missing teeth didn't prevent him from grinning. He’d use them to support his many fist-fought-a-vampire-and-lived stories. His rough, sun-damaged skin, crooked nose, and over-powdered mustache were discernible even from afar.

He was a genuine antique, so much so that even a stranger would find him nostalgic.

Yuichiro’s footsteps became heavier. The immense château behind him seemed to acquire a gravitational pull. Through wistfulness alone did he long for the dingy pallor of limestone, the soaring ceilings that intimidated more than they impressed, and the hideously jagged shrubbery that surrounded a mediocre garden. How audacious it was, being a blemish on the countryside's otherwise picturesque face.

“‘Do you have any inkling of its designer?’” He mocked under his breath, “The avant-garde subtleties of What’s-His-Face de Whatever is beyond a simple boy like you! Learn a little something about architecture, and then you’ll worship my tacky—”

He had run out of cobblestone.

All that awaited him was the dusty plush of the carriage’s interior.

A sentence-length exhale was enough to install himself into the vehicle, but a fresh wave of anguish washed over him upon closing the door.

Instead of a greeting, the source of all his woe and heartache remarked:

“Your friends are quite proud of you. They sang praises of you all morning, yet you lacked the decency to give them a proper goodbye. Is it enjoyable feeling sorry for yourself?”

“It's not like that,” Yuichiro replied, “I’m ill, so it was hard to muster up the energy.”

The ‘silent treatment’ was an ineffectual punishment for Guren, and he knew as much.  An active listener was a plus, not an imperative, and his caretaker would craft his observations with purposeful, provocative commentary whether or not he expected a reply. Yuichiro himself, on the other hand, was never the type to leave his comments unacknowledged. In his twenty years of life, this was his first grudge against the man, for he always chose confrontation over brooding.

Sitting across from each other, arms folded, were the perfect pair of choleric and instigator.

“My head hurts, my back is aching, and my nose bled for three hours. Also, I didn’t wanna alarm you, but my left foot was significantly larger than my right when I woke up this morning. This shoe is Narumi’s. Let’s go another day.”

Guren’s eyes remained on his cuticle.

“I know how you feel. I have quite the illness myself. A dreadful migraine has tormented me for thirteen years—”

“I became a knight to protect my family! Not to live under some bloodsuckers!”“You’re a member of the Imperial Order because I told you to be. That and Shinya owed me a favor.”“‘Owed you a favor!?’ Yeah, right! Like you don’t run off together every time you’re in heat.”“Ha! What’s with that tone? Scared I’ll never come back or something?”“No, I think you should stay there longer. That way you could be with a prince instead of ruining my life.”

“Ruining your life!” Guren parroted, bored enough of his cuticle to look at the distressed young man before him.

His expression was of vanity and feigned innocence, a look he had perfected down to the last detail. Even his eyebrows seemed to declare, ‘I beg your pardon; I’ve done nothing to you!’

“You act as though you’ve been pilloried! Nobody but you will mourn your unfulfilled goals and your doomed half-measures. Thanks to me, they’ll remember you as a man who lived a life of well-deserved dotationes.”

Yuichiro’s face betrayed him. It was clear from his involuntary grimace that he had recognized the word from his studies, but he had no memory of its translation.

Guessing as much, Guren stated: “Dotatio, Dotationis. Feminine. Third Declension. Meaning: Endowment. Surely you’ve been keeping up with your Latin.”

“Of course I have! My tutor gives me twenty vocabulary words a week now! She insisted! I’ve been learning them so well she had no choice but to make it harder for me!”

“Your tutor gives you forty a week.”

“Ack!”

“Also, dotatio was on last week’s list.”

“Err—You’re mistaken! I never saw that one!”

“Have mercy on me and don’t spit when you talk. I can’t afford to catch your poor education.”

“Poor education isn’t contagious! And—Wait! I don’t even have a poor education!”

“I’m shocked you realized that underlying assumption. For the very first time, you’ve impressed me.”

With a sigh that sounded more like a guttural hiss, Yuichiro threw his back against the carriage’s slightly uncomfortable button tufting.

“Who cares about Latin, anyway!? It’s their language. We shouldn’t have to learn it in the first place!”

“You should. It’ll be of great use to you among the vampires. Now they can’t cover up their plans to eat you in your sleep.”

“Guren—”

“In any case,” The man in question interrupted.

A pained sermon about “betrayal” was far more than what his mood would allow. His son was a broken record when angry, and Guren could predict his tangent down to the upward inflection.

“There’s no point in yelling at me. Sending you off wasn't my choice.”

“Exactly!” Yuichiro spat, thrusting his index finger. “Who enforces a datotio!?”

“Dotatio.”

“It’s a power play! They want you to be willing to live on their little human farm! They wanna show how easy we are to manipulate when they cater to our greed! We'll give up our blood easier if we're spoiled!”

“That’s worth considering,” Guren admitted, though his flat tone masked his sincerity.

“But Sanguinem—”

“See!? That too! ‘Sanguinem!?’ You should be embarrassed that she changed the name of our country! How can you sip tea in a parlor with them in the room!?”

His first encounter was as fresh in his head as it was twelve years ago. Traveling to the home of a distinguished baron, he received the warmest of welcomes, hard candies that tasted of sweetened milk, and access to a playroom that was furnished for the children of guests. It was the wheel of a broken train set, waddling past the cracked double doors, that had lured him into their host’s parlor.

Deep in the stomach of his most exquisite room were the morbid, unsettling gazes of the ‘Illustrious family.’ A dark plaque rested on the even darker oak of its frame, displaying the inscription, “Her Majesty the Queen, Krul ‘Tertius Sator’ Illustrious & His Royal Highness, Prince Mikaela ‘Octavus Sator’ Illustrious,” in the most grandiose of calligraphy. Their figures were eerily still, even for an illustration, with expressions so hollow of interest they evoked an optical illusion. The longer Yuichiro looked into the image, the more their eyes gleamed with thirst and foreboding contempt.

Amongst the ornate décor, statuettes, and other meaningless bric-a-brac whose only purpose was to signify the baron’s status, the darkness of their presence swallowed all else in the room. The dread he felt was nearly enchanting. He was sure if he took a step closer, that same darkness would consume him whole, and he'd wander for all eternity.

The phobia he gained from the painting since then had morphed into shame and resentment.

How anyone would trust the “endowments” of such monsters was beyond his understanding.

The whole kingdom deserved nothing but ridicule.

“What a fitting judgment for someone of your caliber. I’m sure every well-fed, well-rested person will agree with you.”

Wait.

What?

“That wasn’t Latin. You knew every word I said.”

Ah. He had spoken aloud.

“Hey, Guren? I’d appreciate not looking at me the same way you look at garbage.”

“My apologies. I didn’t want a face that severe.”

“It’s all right—”

“Tell me, what expression do I have for ignorant children? That’s what I was going for.”

“Whaddya mean by ignorant!? Besides, I understood what you said,” Yuichiro corrected, the color in his cheeks draining at last.

“I was confused about what you meant.”

Guren’s snort was in perfect harmony with the cross of his legs.

“Only an ignorant child would think petty humiliation is a legitimate issue. That's what I meant.”

“Petty!? There’s nothing petty about how I feel! I'm talking about the freedom of our entire country!”

“Freedom, he says! As if freedom without any way to protect it is worth a damn!”

“Those bloodsuckers aren’t protecting us! How could you even imply that!?”

“I’m not,” Guren stated, “I’m telling you how it is. Your lack of insight only proves my suspicion about you.”

“What suspicion!?”

“That you only read the headings in books and neglect the actual text.”

The warmth on Yuichiro’s cheeks displayed an embarrassment he had no intention of showing.

The best reply, he decided without much thought, would be a display of knowledge as sufficient as his caretaker’s.

“I read enough to know what I’m talking about! The vampire queen made an offer, and now she's taken over everything! You don’t need a book to see that!”

“Ah, never mind. My suspicions weren’t altogether correct," Guren replied after a brief look at the door sash.

“Told ya!”

“When you’re feeling especially studious, you’ll read the subheadings. And then you’ll neglect the actual text.”

“Stop talking as if you know!”

“I do know. I’ve seen the books you’ve actually read. Had you studied your vampire-related texts, the pages would be full of stains—”

“Augh, enough! You’re really getting annoying!”

To Guren’s surprise, his determined opponent held out an open palm rather than the fist he anticipated.

“ … What?”

“We’re gonna fight!” Yuichiro said.

There was no smile on his face; only his chipper tone relayed his enthusiasm.

“If I win, we turn this carriage around!”

“Really? After that horrid display of ignorance, you can’t just bow out like a gentleman?”

“That means nothing coming from you! Besides, if you wanted a proper duel, you should’ve let me bring my sword!”

Moments passed, including a sigh of irritation, before Guren linked his fingers with Yuichiro’s.

“I'm not telling Gramps to turn around, so I might as well humor you.”

“You better,” His son agreed, “'Cause nothing you say will convince me I’m wrong! One! Two—”

Violating the rules of his game, he slammed his thumb against the middle joint of his caretaker’s. The tactic was worthless, however, as Guren released himself with ease. He forced his thumb downward, lurched it toward his body, and gave his son a lackadaisical pin on the nail bed.

“Hey! You weren’t even looking!” Yuichiro scolded, body stiff.

“So? Relying on your sense of touch is better than looking.”

“That’s not fair! We’re doing it again! And neither of us are cheating!”

“All the better.”

At the proper count of three, Yuichiro thrust his thumb forward, once again falling prey to Guren’s evasion-and-strike technique.

“Wait, hold on! I wasn’t paying attention!”

“Sure you weren't. You know, if you really bothered to look into it, you’d see why nobody cares about your lofty ideals. Then you’d be enjoying a trip instead of the shame of defeat.”

With the same careless attitude, he began to slip himself out of Yuichiro’s grasp.

His fingers were caught in haste, however.

“Best two out of three!” His son demanded, and as an afterthought, “There’s nothing in those books worth reading anywa—er, worth reading again!”

Their grip tightened, the count was made, and right as Yuichiro attacked, his caretaker tucked his thumb into his palm.

“Stop it, Guren! I said we weren’t cheating!”

“Nothing’s worth reading in those books ‘again,’ huh? Well, I’m ready to agree with that to an extent. So I’ll tell you something your little texts wouldn’t. Consider this a parting gift.”

A reluctant pause followed, but Yuichiro’s face was aglow with boyish curiosity.

“Like what?”

Guren altered the curve of his lips, for a softer smile seemed more appropriate than a haughty smirk.

“Everything you hate about this country is our fault.”

Yuichiro knit his brow.

“Ours? What’re you talking about?”

“I’m talking about our history. You think our neighbors tried to kill us apropos of nothing? The vampires wouldn't have bothered with us if not for our underhanded practices. There was a value in our preservation—or maybe suppression’s the right word …”

“But we didn’t do anything!” Yuichiro cried, taking the same offense to Guren’s testimony as a pious man would sacrilege.

Nevertheless, the thumb on his middle joint stopped his upcoming rant before it could begin.

“Best two out of three. I win,” Guren taunted.

“You didn’t count to three, and you lied to distract me! There hasn’t been a single fair match!”

“It’s not a lie. If the Hiragi family had lost all of its power, it would’ve been an act of justice.”

“Shut up! Here, best three out of five!”

They set up their thumbs, and on the third count, Guren pulled back until his nail bed was out of reach. Yuichiro made himself comfortable in response, knowing his counterattack relied on the opponent’s fatigue.“Your faith in your own kind is admirable, but humans don't deserve all your confidence, Yu.”

“And bloodsuckers don't deserve any of it!” Yuichiro barked, almost with dismay. “There’s no person alive who’s worse than them!”

“That's a bold statement! Go on, chastise a lion all day for eating a fox, but people like you always ignore the poor rabbit in its mouth!”

“What’s that supposed to mean!?”

“That your sense of loyalty is so twisted,” Guren yawned, “You'll gladly blind yourself to any harm your loved ones have caused. Similarly, people you see as evil are incapable of doing any good. I don’t blame you for your one-dimensional thinking. That kind of naivety fits you. But it means anything outside your rules will be outside your understanding.”

“No, it wouldn't! And what’s wrong with that!?”

“Oh stop, you're not that obtuse. You may not like it, but we owe those bloodsuckers our lives. No debate in some carriage will change that.”

“Fine! Let's say you're right! Even if they did save us, what would we owe them for right now!?”

“Look to your right, Yu.”

Yuichiro obeyed, and a gloomy stillness took over him.

The sickening mass of clouds, which seemed to harbor something more sinister than rain, had finally thinned into faint wisps across the sky. Flocks of sheep were grazing upon a meadow that seemed to stretch indefinitely. Their overseers, a shepherd and collie duo, observed them under a maple tree’s bountiful shade. So soft were the clamors and trills of the fat sparrows above them that it complemented the wind’s gentle hum.

Amidst the death of a summer afternoon, a blanket of rosy gold had enveloped everything.

It was the same tranquility he had known since childhood.

“We owe them that,” Guren said. “If life is good and people are fed, the likelihood of rebellion is slim. Not everything’s like your pathetic excuse for parents.”

Having received his prize, Yuichiro’s glare and rekindled attention, he continued.

“The vampire reign is mutualism. The bloodsuckers are the hummingbirds, and we’re the flowers. But enough of that! I doubt you’ve studied journals in biology, either. After all, they do mention bloodsuckers.”

Denying that claim, Yuichiro decided, would be more trouble than it's worth.

He was too fed up for banter anyway, and a mild dread had crept over him.

“What good is bringing up my parents?” He asked instead.

Guren lowered his eyes to their woven fingers, and Yuichiro’s followed suit. He hadn’t noticed the relaxation of his thumb, nor did he notice the pressure on his nail bed.

His pouty lip earned a laugh from his caretaker.

“It matches the example right beneath you. Regardless of yourself or what you're dealing with, you'll take the same approach to everything. Observe.”

He placed his thumb on his son’s middle joint.

“If you’re pinned down like this, try forcing yourself out of this opening. A quick jerk works better than constant pressure.”

Yuichiro escaped the pin with success, pressing his thumb over Guren’s without a word.

“See? Yours is shorter than mine, so your muscles are more concentrated. You could get out of a bind with ease, but you move as if our thumbs are identical.”

The smoothness of Guren’s cuticle, the silky skin that followed, their miniscule warmth shortened Yuichiro’s breaths.

A burning sensation crept behind his eyes.

Entwined with his own were the same fingers that had run through his hair all night, calming his nightmares until his body was no longer on fire.

He’d trace their every crease, studying them like lines in a book, when the memories were too harsh and they’d share a bed.

When the shame of being abandoned ate him alive, a single caress made the distressed child within him disappear.

A languid heaviness rose from Yuichiro’s stomach.

They felt more like promises than flesh.

“Huh? What're you rubbing your eyes for?”

“Shut up!”

“That dress shirt’s expensive, you know. Don’t get snot all over it.”

“I’m not crying!”

In truth, he was thankful for black sleeves. They were kinder to his dignity, soaking up the tears without the exposure of white cloth. Upholding the power in his voice took all his efforts already, as he was one slip away from incomprehensible sputtering.

“There was—There was no point in any of this! In you saving me! Not if I can’t be with you! Not if you can’t even need—!”

He shut his mouth, blocking his choked sobs with clenched teeth.

They were heavy piling up on his tongue, but swallowing was impossible.

There was no room left in his throat.

Averse to prolonged silences, his caretaker replied: “What do you want me to do? Kick and scream for you to stay? Beg the council to let you serve a family like the Hiragis? You should be grateful. They're practically saving you.”

“I don’t care!” Yuichiro cried, letting a whimper escape.

Guren’s hand was free for only a moment. It was soon encased in his son’s hands, pressed against the warmth of his chest.

“I didn’t ask to be saved!”

Squeezing his eyes shut only hastened the flow of his tears, but Yuichiro couldn’t bear to look at the man in front of him.

He bit his bottom lip in the hope that it would stop trembling, but the biting quips he learned to expect from Guren never came. In their place was a steady, gentle hand that wiped his cheeks and lifted his chin to meet his crooked smile.

“My goodness,” Guren chuckled, raising a single brow.

“That was affectionate. What the hell’s gotten into you?”

Yuichiro had given up hiding how bashful he looked, but he couldn’t help averting his gaze.

“I … Um—”

“Bloodsuckers aside, I never expected you to whine like that. Oh, I know what brought this on.”

He smirked from ear to ear at Yuichiro’s puzzled look.

“You’re worried you’ll stay a virgin there! Sorry, I can’t give you any optimism about that.”

His tone was absolute, as though he spoke for himself and God.

“This has nothing to do with my virginity!” Yuichiro spat, throwing back Guren’s hand.

“Aw, I thought you wanted to hold my hand!”“Idiot! Who’d wanna hold your hand!?”"What was that a second ago? 'Oh, Papa, I'll miss you so much! I just can't live without you!'""I said nothing of the sort!" Guren rolled his eyes.

“Close enough. You're right, though. Someone like you is too soft for that kind of motive. You’re really worried about your dreams of marriage.”

“Am not!”
“Please, it's written all over your face. But don't fret. Someone like you prefers a kind spouse over an ambitious one, and you’ll find plenty of those where you’re going. People with actual goals would intimidate you, and you’d be overwhelmed with jealousy.”
“Why did you stress ‘actual’ like it was underlined or something!?”

Despite his protests, Guren ruffled Yuichiro's hair as long as he wanted.

“Quit acting like it's all over, and get a new reason to live. Who knows? You might find someone who needs you. It's not like I ever did.”

“But …” Yuichiro mumbled, “I wanna be needed the way you are. I … I thought I'd become—”

“My heir?” Guren interrupted.

“I already have one of those. You know that.”

“Lady Ariadust doesn’t count!”

“How could you say such archaic drivel? Women are as capable as you and me.”

“Your ugly Chihuahua’s not a woman!”

After a brief pause, their carriage was filled with laughter. It was cheerful yet soft-spoken, a testament that Guren was superior to any genuine prejudice towards his son.

He was merely a man of routine, and Yuichiro’s happened to be tough love, humor, and cold truths.

Half of him appreciated that.

“Hey… Guren?”

“What?”

“You’re a pain in the ass to talk to.”

“The feeling’s mutual.”

“Gentlemen, we’ve arrived!” Their coachman yelled from outside.

Yuichiro and Guren stepped out of the vehicle in silence.

They approached the Illustrious estate shoulder-to-shoulder, and they glanced at anything besides each other.

Their index fingers, however, were tightly knit behind their backs.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

The evening was now on its final breath. The sun had fallen into its Earthly coffin, making way for stars that crept from the East. At the crest of night washing over the surviving fragments of day, a colorful display adorned the work of art before them.To call the Illustrious’ home an ‘estate’—an elaborate, grandiose structure that could cast a foreboding shadow over his own monarch’s—must have been the old joke of the matriarch possessing it. One who, Yuichiro guessed, found great amusement in feigning a humility vampirism couldn't grant. His knowledge of the 'estate' prior was ludicrously shoddy. The anecdotes from his friends had been fly-by-night hearsay, and only God knew their true source.

But one look at its grand facade confirmed every detail he thought superfluous.

The palace's architecture, daunting in how aggressive it sought perfection, could've only belonged to someone paranormal. The arc-boutants wrapped around the edifice like arms, the towering pinnacles sheltered their myriad of bells, and the residual rain bled between fangs of chimeras. Light from indoors frolicked across the stained glass windows, which contained every color Yuichiro thought imaginable. Theatrical performances appeared to take place in each room.

Above the entrance, human and vampire sculptures emerged from a void, stuck in a moment of chaos and creation. They bowed to their respective icons framing the doors: the queen and prince in intricate marble—at least four times larger than life-size. The eyes were closed, heads bowed, and the right hands rose in blessing.

Such were Yuichiro’s observations, and he drew back the corners of his mouth.

“What the heck …? People live here?”

The solemn that brought their fingers together vanished once he spoke, so their hands promptly returned to their sides.

“Isn't this like the opera house we visited?” Guren said with a lifted spirit only his son could've noticed. “I'm surprised you don't like it.”

“Yeah, right! That was a gift to yourself! It wasn’t even my birthday!”

“Really?”

“And it’s obvious you’d love it! This is worse than our house!”

“Give it time, Yu. I’m sure you’ll be bowing to those statues by morning.”

“Shut up!”

“Come to think of it, I can’t identify the material of those doors. Maybe they drain the blood of those who dare to enter?”

“Stop making fun of me!”

Making their appearance known at all, however, became unnecessary, for a lone man exited the mouth of the estate.

He was tiny against the looming doors of crimson. His gait had the confidence of a man stepping on stage, yet his bow was more of an awkward spinal fold. His sleepy eyes were a honeyed brown but overall lackluster. The hair he pulled into a lazy ponytail made a mockery of his dignified suit. Upon his face was the lofty expression of a man on trial, a man whose features relayed beautiful parents but did nothing to accentuate their assets.

Yuichiro had expected a being more monstrous to greet them, but everything about the unkempt creature was flawed to the point of charming.

“Welcome to the Illustrious estate! Let’s have a happy day two of the semi-annual move-in—Guren!? Guren Ariadust!?”

In the time it took Yuichiro to direct his gaze at his caretaker, the man had already flung his arms around Guren’s neck.“How the hell are ya!? It’s been … what? Five years!? Did you even notice I stopped sending you letters!? I poured my heart and soul into those! How could you respond with nothing but a ‘glad you are well!?’"Guren, in contrast to the joyous agitation of their host, was as still as death. The exhale he pushed through his nose had the flair of an old, smothered dog.

“Yes, Goshi. It’s me.”

He didn't need the confirmation, but Norito's hug intensified as though it were wondrous news.

A secret, almost delighted amazement ran through Yuichiro's person.

“It is! It is without question! The more I rub, the more it feels like Guren!”

“You’re snuggling me to be a nuisance. Let go.”

Norito obeyed with a cackle and dusted off Guren’s shoulder.

“So they’ve finally allowed your retirement, eh? ‘Bout time! Now we can relax together! It’ll be just like the good ol’ days!”

“Sorry to cut your dreams short, but the one moving here is my kid, not me.”

“Your what!?”

His coquettish smirk became the same dazzling glee he exhibited prior. He followed the dismissive wave of Guren’s fingers and smacked his forehead at Yuichiro.

“No way!” He cried, circling around him. “I thought he was your servant, but I see it now!”

“Who’s a servant!?”

“Here, let’s take a good look at you! You’re like Guren when he was your age! Do you also get lonely easily? Aw, your angry pout’s as cute as his!”

Taking mercy on both himself and his son, Guren ceased Norito’s movements with a tug on his lapel.

“He’s not my kid in a biological sense. I took him in when his house burned down.”

“Oh?”

He leaned forward for one last inspection of Yuichiro.

“Well, adopted or not,” He shrugged, “A child will take after his parent. But come, let’s hurry inside. You’re the first to arrive on the second day!”

When the three gentlemen stepped into the entryway, the obsidian floor gave their shadows flesh at once, reflecting them in photographic detail. A desirable musk of sage floated beneath their noses, and the muffled sounds a cello coaxed them from the right.

“Home sweet home, younger Ariadust! What do you think?”

Yuichiro started at the pedestaled torchères and fanned outward. The ceremonial staircase they framed was of sparkling marble and diverged into two flights of stairs. Between decadent columns as tall as trees, on each side of the lavish balustrades, and next to exquisite artwork, the many accented lighting fixtures gave the area a flawless symmetry. Their subtle light provided a dark yet sophisticated ambiance.

“… This isn’t my home.”

A sympathetic chuckle passed through the lips of their host.

“Yeah, okay,” Norito said, pinching the pointed end of his goatee. He winked at Guren, assuring him his son didn’t offend. “Everyone needs time for a place to feel like their own, so let’s not waste any more of it! I prepared a favorite little room of mine for our introduction.”

He took a sharp pivot right, and the click of his shoes made a pleasurable echo against the floor. Yuichiro lagged behind (but not in a slump) as they entered another area to his distaste.

The aforementioned ‘little room’ was an exquisite parlor with a chandelier the size of a tree-top. Though the left side was rather bare of furniture, the right had two sets of faux-gold sofas and accompanying chairs. Mirrors cascaded from the ceiling to the rug of intricate design. The fireplace wasn’t small, but it dwindled below a massive oil painting of the queen. The lounging set was unique in its palette, but the remaining décor adhered to the chilly, powdery blues of the monarch’s gown.

Every so often, the summer breeze slipped under the window pane, agitating an assortment of wind chimes.

An old servant, plump in the arms and face with hair the same pallor as his skin, had finished preparing tobacco and a plate of cream puffs for the table. When the gentlemen plopped onto the sofa—Yuichiro was at the edge of the seat—he excused himself with a nod.

“I’m hurt by you, Guren,” Norito said. He pinched an indulgent amount of shag and stuffed it into the bowl of his pipe. “You haven’t even asked about me!”

“You’re alive and well. What else would I want to know?”

“Ha! Younger Ariadust, do be kinder than your old man and hand me those matches. In exchange, you can have that paper in front of you.”

Yuichiro dropped his eyes at a map next to the matchbox. He agreed to the exchange and unfolded the sheet without a word.

In red was a layout of the palace, but behind it was a setup akin to a university. Many a tourism points were marked in violet, and the paths were measured in kilometers rather than meters. Luxurious complexes framed a lake. Gardens were the size of an exhibit. Around a massive courtyard were shops, libraries and various sites of leisure.

“What’s all this stuff past the estate?”

“Past the estate!? This is the vampires’ house! All that is the estate!”

Yuichiro renewed his silence, slumped back on the couch and brows severe. That, paired with Guren’s lack of input, became exceedingly unpleasant to Norito.

“This air of gloom is really putting me on the spot, you two!” He said, scratching his cheek. “It's almost like you don’t want to be here!”

“I don’t!” Yuichiro cried, “I’ve been trying to tell that to this idiot!”

Guren snatched the finger waving at his face and tucked it under his arm.

“My apologies. He thinks the vampires will eat him, so he’s been grumpy and irritable since we left.”

“Have not!”

Their host lifted his shoulder in a half-shrug and blew smoke from his cheeks.

“Don’t worry, kid. You’ll be fine!”

“And how do you know!?”

“Vampires are creatures of habit. They feed them 'round the clock over here.” At this phrase, Norito spun his index finger in a circle. “No one will scavenge for you, and you'll live on the lake, anyway. Did you see that?”

After a failed attempt at rescuing his hand, Yuichiro scoffed, “They’re close enough! And what do you even do here? It sounds boring.”

Norito answered with a grin both brimming with politeness and patronization.

“As Ichihara Tsuji once said, ‘When a man is happy, his mind isn’t that active.’”

“I see you’re still reading philosophers,” Guren yawned.

“My collection’s taller than ever! It’s not that I can’t leave. I just do on rare occasions.”

“But why?” The reason escaped him, but Yuichiro was thankful his swift peek at Guren didn’t yield mutual eye-contact. “Don’t you miss your family?”

Norito reached for a dessert.

“Nope, never. My parents only fussed over that perfect little sibling of mine, so I messed around more than I spent time with them.

Unhappy with the chocolate distribution, he rolled his eyes and returned it to the plate.

“See, I have this theory that the council selected my brother, but my old man swapped us to get rid of me. If I’m right, though, it’d be the kindest thing he’d ever done. I couldn’t wait to leave!”

“You can switch!? Cause I know this girl named Mitsuba who’d love to—”

“The girls here are cute, too,” Norito continued after Guren quieted his son. “Illustrious was my only salvation! No vampire could’ve scared me off!”

“I’m not scared!” Yuichiro said, at last triumphant in freeing himself. He smoothed his locks in no particular direction, so his hair remained as disheveled as when his caretaker ruffled it.

“I need to stay home! I’m an Ariadust!”

“Your old man doesn't think so. Do you, Guren?”

He raised his eyes daringly at his friend who, despite keeping a placid expression, fidgeted in his seat.

“You do make an interesting point, younger Ariadust, so let’s ask him another way. If you wanted to dump him off, why didn’t you tell the kid the real story of your family?”

He was silent for a little, as Guren made no response, and he propped his chin on his palm.

“He holds so much pride for that lie of yours! Does he know why his name can't be ‘Ichinose?’ That’d kick the loyalty out of him—”

“Who cares?”

Yuichiro’s tone—grave and without a hint of his boyish agitation prior—aroused the older gentlemen's undivided attention.

“Who… cares?”

“Yeah! Why should he bother? If I knew something terrible happened to my family, I’d want to stay by their side even more. Wouldn’t you if you loved them?”

His additional contingency earned a constrained half-laugh from Norito.

“Your tough act is so adorable! Are you sure Guren’s not your dad? Anyway, you two kinda remind me of this one fable by Shinomiya—you’re frowning again, but listen.”

Feeling magnanimous, he lifted another cream puff and gave it his bite of approval.

“There once was a man who could attain unending happiness and leisure. He never had to experience pain for the rest of his life. And he rejected the offer! In his eyes, it was more fulfilling to help others who would never achieve that happiness! I know that’s how your papa thinks, but please don’t be one of those yourself. You may think you owe the Hiragis something, but I assure you—”

“That's not it.”

“Hm?”

“This is all my family has, Goshi,” Yuichiro began, “And if they had no choice but to suffer, why abandon them just so I won’t? If I could help shoulder that burden and protect them, then I'll be happy.”

Norito blinked at Guren, whose cheeks had a momentary rosiness about them.

“Wow,” He mused, wiping the cream off his goatee, “You two love each other a lot, huh?”

In near-perfect unison, both Ariadusts bowed their heads and mumbled, “Do I really have to say that out loud?”

The flush that overspread their cheeks was more satisfying than Norito expected, but he hid his pride with a more charitable smile.

“No, it’s obvious enough. But after such an edict of loyalty, is your papa still gonna leave you here?”

The stare Yuichiro fixed upon his caretaker was severe in its anxiety, yet a tender devotion radiated from his face. Guren returned his glance for no longer than a second, and he stuffed the hand that inched toward his son beneath his thigh.

“Yes. He’s staying.”

His confirmation was over-enunciated, with a carefulness that bordered on timidity.

Yuichiro’s fingers shriveled away from his caretaker, and he excused himself from their circle unhurried.

“There’s no use in leaving this room. Gramps won’t go home without me.”

Back still turned, Yuichiro's hand slipped away from the wood's glossy finish, a slight quiver in his frame.

“… Er,” Norito chided, raking the smoke’s odor through his hair. “Couldn’t you have said that a little nicer? H-Hey, cuter Ariadust?”

He couldn’t help but flash his signature grin, even if Yuichiro wouldn’t see it.

“I’ll make sure your papa doesn’t leave, so walk around until you’re ready to say goodbye. I’ll torment him with some love letters Shinya wrote him.”

“You have no such thing,” Guren said.

“You’d be surprised! And take your time, kid. I only ask that you stay away from the farthest left side of this palace. See, His Royal Highness is an omega—”

“I don’t care!”

A resounding echo bounced off the walls of the entryway, despite the door being closed with languid defeat. Yuichiro succumbed to the marble staircase before him, the knots in his stomach tightening with each click of his heel. He dipped his entire walk in something repugnant. Shoulders slumped forward, head high yet crooked, his posture threatened to give way at the slightest provocation.

He fancied (and hoped) that the door of the ‘little drawing room’ would throw open, and Guren would rush to him with an uncharacteristic call of his name, proclaiming he’d be an Ariadust forever.

Escapism was never in his nature, so he could only attribute his repeating daydream to pathetic desperation.

Yuichiro couldn’t have answered whether he took any detours or remained on a single path. Locked in his pitiful imagination, swiveling through unfamiliar surroundings, only when he found a particularly nauseating corridor did he rekindle some awareness.

Mirrors the size of windows fattened the area, for they rested on every meter of the wall. There were a dizzying array of painted compositions on the ceiling, proud-standing angels of gold holding up effigies, and a return of the obnoxious chandeliers encased in bronze. Nevertheless, Yuichiro felt no more obliged to find another hallway, so he continued his walk with no singularity of purpose.

He drifted in and out of reverie, passionate and pure-minded with only the sound of his shoes as an anchor. But a shift in his step yanked his head from the clouds into a world at odds with the estate.

The tiles under his feet had transformed into a glittering sheet of glass. Beneath the aisle, a vast garden of flowers swallowed what used to be the floor. Their jade throats stood in such a fashion that their leaves never touched another's, and a sliver of light—faint and with a source he couldn't identify—bounced off their white petals.

Yuichiro glanced over his shoulder, and the splendorous hallway was mere meters away from where he stood. No gradient existed between the conflicting areas, as though he had stepped onto the blank section of an incomplete painting.

He drew in a sharp breath and continued out of grave curiosity.

Everything about the garden perplexed him—a space where indefinite black enveloped the heralds of spring. Their stance was equal to those basking in sunlight, their amber cups sparkled with dew, and they swayed by a gentle breeze Yuichiro couldn’t feel. Their fragrance was indistinguishable.

Eyes glued downward, the end of his walk was unexpected. If the crown of his head hadn't slammed into cracked double doors, he could’ve trailed along forever.

“Ouch! Damn it! What the hell was…”

In a room whose extravagance rivaled everything he’d seen prior (a feat he would've considered impossible), a round, stirring entity was upon a cherubic statue. It was perched on curled fingers that lifted the veil of a canopy bed, and it lacked a face in its entirety. Yuichiro couldn’t tell if the protrusions on top were ears or horns, and it flickered the spaded end of what appeared to be a tail.

"… Huh?"

It was the light of this chamber, one he guessed could fit his childhood home, that provided the garden its afterglow.

He peered deeper into the room, but his object of interest remained unclear.

At some point, the creature moved, folding what resembled wings against its body.

But what kind of bat was faceless?

Yuichiro double checked for any sign of life. He figured he could slip into the bedroom, inspect the mysterious animal, and then leave as quickly as he came.

The moment he placed one foot on the carpet, its shampooed wool emitted the faint scent of clover. He walked on the tip of his toes until he was up close.

Its little head rose and fell in deep slumber, and he jammed his finger on what he assumed was a chest.

That he felt nothing of fur intrigued him, and he continued poking and prodding when a sudden, singular eye appeared on the void of its face.

“Wha—What!?" Yuichiro flung his hand away with a shriek. "What the hell are you!? And what’s wrong with your face!?”

The creature, as though to torture the boy, replaced its eye with a mouth filled with endless spirals of fangs. Its wings cut the air, and the sharp, prolonged screech it bellowed was a razor to the ear.

Yuichiro’s scream bled into the halls, for the black monster whirled around him in the manner of a bee. His saving grace came in the form of candle holders amongst a vase, and he swung in no particular direction.

Its scream in response resounded throughout the chamber. He snatched the twin of his weapon with haste, shutting his eyes and thrashing them in all directions.

To check whether he hit his target wasn’t worth the visual.

“Die! Die right now!”

“Human.”

Yuichiro became still at once.

A voice, eery in its resoluteness, had silenced both himself and the small ‘bat’ in front of him. Its wings were spread in such a way that the creature appeared frozen in time.

The air was stagnant. His lungs seized. He was certain the Earth itself had stopped turning.

‘Human’ had been more akin to a command rather than a call. It echoed to and fro in his head, as if a spell of absolute obedience was behind its sinister ring.

Standing before him was the subject of his childhood nightmares and the source of his adulthood contempt: Mikaela ‘Octavus Sator’ Illustrious.

Yuichiro had memorized his name from the painting’s inscription, but even the most diligent hand failed to grasp the horrific nuance of his features. There was calculated precision in every detail—from the curve of his nose to the corners of his mouth.

Despite his human origin, the blood-chilling, mystical beauty only given through vampirism was a deformity itself. Its artistry stole a considerable amount of his personhood, and it both pleased and terrified the nerves.

“For what purpose are you in my room?”

Mikaela’s tone wasn’t angry or confused. There was no contraction in his brow. The only sign of his curiosity was a slight tilt of his head.

The golden locks cradling his cheeks, ruffled in some areas yet well-framed in others, kept an impossible cohesion when he moved.

Yuichiro’s knuckles were a considerable shade lighter from his grip. His teeth gnawed and clenched, a painful throb running through his jaw. By the time he gathered the strength to part his lips, another soul entered the room.

Unlike the prince, Yuichiro hadn’t seen this vampire in a work of art, but he could’ve been the inspiration of one. Had he lost his inhuman qualities, his face could've belonged to someone of pedigree. His hair was a glistening silver that rivaled his diamond earrings, and his ribbon bore a resemblance to blood streaming down his neck.

“Come now, my master, you must remember to wait for me. Did you forget your towels are in my possession—upon my word!” His smile touched the corners of his ears. “Someone has done you a kindness and delivered a snack to your room!”

The vampire had a frightening hollowness in his eyes. Even during laughter, his gaze was catatonic.

With no acknowledgment of his servant, Mikaela glanced at the frozen creature beside Yuichiro.

“Arcanu.”

‘Arcanu’s’ vortex of teeth changed back into a single eye. As it swung to join its master, its tail sliced Yuichiro’s cheek and forced him out of his trance.

“Ooow! What the hell is that thing!? ” He yelled, dropping a weapon to hold the side of his face. Blood seeped between his fingers.

Perched on Mikaela’s shoulder, Arcanu lifted its bloodied spade as an offering, and the former sucked the tiny sample clean.

“Hey! I’m not your ‘snack,’ bloodsucker!”

Yuichiro steadied his aim towards the smallest of the three monsters.

“Hold still! I’m killing that thing!”

“What a lively display of insolence!" The prince’s servant laughed.

“My master, you won’t let this go unpunished, will you?”

“What are you saying?” Mikaela replied, his first response to the vampire since he entered. Their fangs had the luster of pearls. “To feel anger towards a human is meaningless. I could extinguish its life with ease.”

There was something musical to his voice, for his words faded in morendo. He took a few steps closer to Yuichiro, but it was more accurate to say he was gliding. His walk had the immovable power and fluidity of a practiced dancer, as though years of choreography were behind his every stride.

He was a walking blasphemy; a cross between a grotesque evil and the stolen body of its victim.

Yuichiro’s whole being shook, and he was angry at himself for shaking. The moment Mikaela raised his hand, so certain was he that it was his final minute on Earth, his muscles didn't relax when the prince merely lowered his arm.
“Are you lost?”“N-No! What’s it to y—”
His voice had died with less grace than the vampire before him. No matter how tranquil his expression, the emptiness of Mikaela’s eyes, the contempt and thirst he’d known for years was more pervading in person. His irises didn’t resemble pigment of any kind. They were more akin to congealed blood churning about his pupils.

Averting his eyes to his wrist didn’t ease his stomach. The softness of the prince's hand, its milky appearance, was a hideous misplacement, for it had the chilly lull of a corpse.

A weak glance at Mikaela’s chest confirmed it didn’t rise and fall. The fit of his bathrobe resembled clothes on a mannequin rather than a person.

The ringing in his ears obstructed the servant’s voice.

“Can't you tell you’re scaring it? It’s not answering you.”

He received no response yet again, but his master freed Yuichiro’s wrist.

“There we go! Now, human, if you’d direct me to place your origin, we could—”

A scream and toss of a candle holder (though he caught it without trouble) interrupted his suggestion. Yuichiro shoved the prince’s servant from the threshold and sprinted into the dark garden.

“Refrain from slipping into the flowerbed, please! You’ll upset the children!”

Yuichiro's chest burned with the shame of his own cowardice. It was imperative to face forward; the blackness of the walls threatened to swallow him whole. The prince flooded his psyche, pushing his speed and throwing out his legs. The relief punched his gut upon reaching the gaudy hallway, and he skidded across the tile on his side.

His wound oozed and stung, demanding his attention, and the mirrors cooled his cheek once his legs gave way. His blood smeared across the glass, painted statues, and dulled crystal whenever he corrected his balance.

It was a miracle he didn’t tumble down the stairs. He miscalculated every other step.

The click of the obsidian floor eased his pulse, albeit marginal. He threw himself into the drawing room, collapsing to his knees the moment he stood before the table.

Norito had kept his promise. The number of souls remained from when he’d left.

“Yu!?”

“Younger Ariadust!?”

Guren kneeled before his son in an instant, lifting his bloodied hand like porcelain.

“What happened to you!?”

Yuichiro flinched at the warmth spreading across his cheek. His caretaker’s palm, the antithesis of the prince’s dollish hands, attacked him with the memory of Mikaela’s touch. The prince of his nightmares only intimidated him in a picture frame. This one had violated his space. He had assumed such a profound sense of harmlessness from his intruder that he disarmed him within spitting distance.

Only by the grace of his inferiority was Yuichiro dry heaving on a rug.

“Answer me! Why are you shaking like that!?”

“H-He…”

“Who’s ‘he!?’ Who the hell did you run into!?”

“Damn it!”

Yuichiro wrapped his arms around himself. His nails dug into his waistcoat, and moisture stung the corners of his eyes.

“Who did he think he was!?  That bloodsucker… those monsters looked at me like I was nothing! As if they could kill me anytime they wanted! Like I wasn’t worth getting angry over!

“Bloodsuckers…?”

Guren squeezed his son even tighter, praying it’d ease the words out of his mouth.

“Mikaela…” The latter began, desperate not to recall the vampires’ more unnerving features.

“And a taller one I’d never seen. He called him ‘master.’”

“The prince!? You mean you ran into the prince himself!?” Norito said. He almost dropped the pipe between his fingers. “How did you make him angry enough to hurt you!? I’ve never even seen him frown!”

“It wasn’t him! It was that thing with one eye!”

Norito played with his goatee, as was his habit in recollection.

“That little cyclops with wings? I couldn’t get a good look at it, but I always assumed it was a pet of sorts. Man, everything about Prince Illustrious is creepy. Don’t you agree, younger—”

There was a wall between the Ariadust family and himself. They huddled like lambs, and their foreheads were centimeters from touching. Neither of the two made a sound, but every stir, every tight-lipped grimace, was a language they had perfected with their expressions.

Out of mercy for his dear friend, their host broke in with, “You know, it is Saturday night, Guren. You still have one day left. If you returned tomorrow …”

“I already gave him Friday.”

‘What nonsense!’ Norito thought. ‘Everything in you wants to take your son home and embrace him. C’mon, I’m giving you a way out!’

He feigned hesitance with a refill of his pipe. Whatever he countered with didn’t have to be an outstanding excuse. There'd be no argument even if Guren saw through it.

“Well… Younger Ariadust is in no state to join a festivity where the prince will also attend. Recovery is best in your own home.”

Yuichiro rose to his feet with the help of his caretaker, who avoided the gaze of both his son and his old friend.

“I…”

His voice was just above a whisper, and he began to knead the top of his ear.

“Tomorrow, then.”

Norito leaped from the sofa, threw his arms around Guren, then pulled Yuichiro into their embrace.

“It's settled! We'll reconvene tomorrow. I’ve kept you two from dinnertime long enough!”

The flimsy nods he received were good enough to release them.

Journeying back to the entrance was as silent as their arrival, but a softer atmosphere accompanied the three gentlemen. Relief had washed over the Ariadust family, despite the underlying shame that kept anything but a frown off their faces.

Their send-off was brief and without ceremony. A mumbled ‘good-bye’ slipped past Yuichiro’s lips, and the faint crimson of Guren’s cheeks (along with a hurried pace towards the carriage) displayed a gratitude stronger than any words.

“If I know you,” Norito chuckled at the back of his old friend’s head, “You’ll show up the very last hour of Sunday.”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

“Aaugh! How am I supposed to know!?”

The latest victim of his study session missed the waste bin by a couple paces. His desk had accumulated many scraps, some abused with verb conjugations, most littered with scribbles. When dreariness or boredom took hold of him, the corners of a page became filled with thoughtless doodles.

A Latin book was the center of his misery. Despite getting it four months prior, it had the crisp scent of when he first opened it. There was more ink smudged the side of his palm than every single note in the margins.

Yuichiro’s nose brushed over the text, as though bringing a page closer to his face would aid in comprehension.

“In lines two and three,” (He took a quick glance at the prose) “Ex eis… quod animus breve est?’ Quod act—act what? Acturi? Whatever. The author states that …”

His eyes glazed over the same sentence, and he restarted multiple times. Translating portions of a sentence had been the easiest part of his work, but changing his native tongue to Latin was always more difficult than its opposite. At any other time, he’d skip the cultural knowledge section, but now he had something to prove. Five questions required an hour of flipping through indexes and scanning paragraphs.

“‘The future is doubtful.’ That’s the one! Right? Wait. No? That’s—Okay, okay! I’ll skip this question!”

He massaged his eyelids. Despite the gaslamp’s soft light, the contrast of black letters against iridescent pages grated. He could feel himself blink.

“The author states in lines three and four that many men—lessee, ‘non vacet’ means ‘there is no time.’ And ‘praeterita’… So it’s letter… Hang it all!”

After shoving his book, Yuichiro snuggled into the cool, hard mahogany.

Not an iota of his spirit lifted when he returned to his sanctuary. The coachman gave a sympathetic smile and asked nothing of his return. Guren embraced him in silence the entire way home and bandaged his face. The two went straight to their bedrooms afterward without a meal.

Sleeping wasn’t allowed. The last thing he wanted to do was skip time.

“ … Amicus, amici. Masculine. Third. Friend. Amator, amatoris. Masculine. Third. Lover.”

Mumbling old vocabulary to himself was far from reading comprehension, but it was enough to keep his brain active.

“Cooperator, cooperatoris. Masculine. Third. Assistant.”

A faint smile appeared on his lips. As unwarranted as he knew it was, his quick recollection blossomed a newfound confidence.

“Comes, comitis. Either. Third. Comrade. Advorsarius, Advorsarii. Either. Second. Enemy—”

With 'enemy' as the conduit, Mikaela Illustrious stormed into his peace of mind in the same way he had violated his space: a terrifying lack of insight for the dread he inflicted on others. His image, vivid behind Yuichiro's eyelids, doused his psyche in a cold intoxication even his nightmares couldn’t even give.

He jolted upright, yanked open the drawer, and fished out a crumpled sheet of paper.

It was more tattered than any on his desk, but a single glimpse restored the color in his face.

A Yuichiro in crayon was smiling at him. His head took up half the page. His hands and feet resembled flowers. The eyes leaned to the left, mouth to the right. Above him was a cloud filled with cakes and toys.

The artist’s signature, ‘Yu’s good dream charm!!!!!! From Yoichi,’ would've been illegible without prior knowledge.

With a slight grimace, Yuichiro took a gander at the bed behind him. His pillow had a magnetic attraction to his skull, and he swallowed both an exasperated yawn and a whimper.

He nagged to himself that Yoichi’s gift had no place on his bed, and it was better suited between the pages of a book. The risk of falling asleep in the middle of his studies would only increase as the night went on, and he was certain Mikaela slithered back into his nightmares.

One look in his direction and he’d drop into the sinkholes that had been Mikaela’s pupils, his only salvation a tumble off the mattress.

“… Stupid bloodsucker.”

“Yu?”

At the first knock, he set his pen in the gutter of his book as slow as he could. He planted his fidgeting foot on the carpet.

He paused for minutes, but the muffled noises outside continued, one accusatory, the other sweet. The second tap on the door was more hurried, and there was no way to shut off his light without giving away consciousness.

“I’m sleeping! Don’t come in!”

His purposeful grogginess did nothing to deter his companions, for they welcomed themselves into his bedroom at once.

The taller of the duo made a beeline towards his desk, lifting the fruit of his studies like a dirty cloth.

“Hey! I didn’t say you could enter, Kimizuki! And don’t touch my—”

“It’s D.”

“What?”

“‘Ex eis, quod agimus breve est, quod acturi sumus dubium.’ The author said the future is doubtful. It’s D.”

Kimizuki’s Latin rolled off his tongue with fluent enunciations. He slapped the paper back on Yuichiro’s textbook.

“And what’s with your culture section?” He upturned a corner of his mouth, which only worsened the innate standoffishness of his face. “‘Golden literary age’ came from the vampires’ spoken vernacular. The churches overseas are the ones who—”

“I don’t need your help!”

“That's true. I mean, I confuse dative and accusative every time. Guess that’s why our marks are so similar.”

“Are you picking a fight with me!?”

“Kimizuki, Yu’s been trying his hardest! There's no need to make fun of him.”

“Yeah! Thanks, Yoi… chi…?”

The boy whom he owed his gratitude carried a third soul he didn't notice, and the mere sight of her slumped his shoulders. The chihuahua’s drooping tongue had an aloof energy that rivaled Kimizuki’s. Her gaze had rested on Yuichiro, but she was looking through him.

“… Why did you bring that in here?”

For as long as he could remember, Lady Ariadust had been a one or two person dog, her tail-wagging and kisses reserved for Guren and Yoichi only. Gurgling yaps and snips for everyone else. Her owner found her loyalty and aggression amusing, so a stuck-up pooch she remained.

Yoichi gave a nervous laugh, crimsoned a little, and pulled Lady Ariadust closer to his chest. His eyes, doe-like and a gentler green than Yuichiro’s own, were the first to invoke any sense of comfort in him since his trip. His hair bounced at the slightest twitch of his head, and his face was plumper than the dog’s bony cheeks. Next to the Chihuahua in his arms, he was softer and more inviting in entirety.

“We found her at your door,” Yoichi said. “I think Lady was there for a while.”

She confirmed his statement with a lick, and an indignant pout twisted Yuichiro's lips.

“Ignore her! She just wants my bed! And I’ve seen more than enough demons today!”

“Yeah… About that,” Kimizuki began, crossing his arms over his chest. “You wanna tell us what you’re still doing here?”

“Er!”

“The marquis was dead set on transferring you over, and some loudmouth idiot squandering a privilege like that pisses me off.”

“Who're you calling an idiot!?”

“Is that why you’re doing this old stuff? Trying to prove to daddy you’re good enough to stay here?”

Yuichiro exploded from his desk and grabbed Kimizuki by the collar.

“I’m already good enough, stupid!”

“Yu, stop! Your bandage!" Yoichi cried.

Covering his cheek with haste, Yuichiro chewed on his bottom lip while devising a sufficient excuse. ‘He fell’ was the first thing that came to mind. On what though? What does one fall on that could leave a deep cut?

A knife? Perhaps a sword was more plausible.

“I believe Yoichi asked you a question—“

“Shut up!”

Even if he made sure he never said so, Kimizuki wasn’t an idiot, and he'd spent many childhood years beating up whoever lied to Yoichi. If a layer of hell didn’t exist for that purpose, he’d build it himself.

With a sharp inhale through the nose, Yuichiro muttered, “Thevampireprince’spetdemonthingscratchedmeinthefaceandIgotupsetandthenwewenthome.”

“You met the vampire prince!? ” His friends shouted in unison.

“So!?”

“‘So!?’ Yu, that’s huge! What did he say!? What did you say!?”

“He asked me if I got lost. I said no and left his room. Big whoop.”

“You were in his room!?”

“How the hell did you get in there?”

“I went for a walk! I didn’t see where I was going!”

“Was it amazing!? Was the bed as large as our cellar!?”

“Who cares, Yoichi!?”

“Who walks into someone’s bedroom ‘on accident?’”

“I never said it was an accident!”

“It was on purpose? Gross.”

“It’s not that, either! He had a cyclops for a pet! A-And his room was in this weird garden! It was all the way in the back, too! To protect him from alphas or something!”

His two companions fell silent. For an agonizing amount of seconds, Yoichi or Kimizuki teased their lips to begin an inquiry, then opted for darting their eyes about the walls. A crinkle of the nose, a twist of the mouth, and their faces relaxed in an instant.

Lady Ariadust sneezed.

Right as Yuichiro inhaled to break the silence, Kimizuki’s laughter bounced around the room.

“‘Protect him from alphas!?’ What is that!? Are you serious, Yu!?”
“What!? Why are you laughing at me!?”Yoichi covered his smile in a manner both sorry and bashful.
“Yu, didn’t you …?” He attempted between giggles, “Surely you’ve read—”

“A Study of Bloodsucking Creatures? ” Kimizuki finished by stifling a laugh with his teeth. He jabbed his thumb toward a thick book, almost the size of an encyclopedia, that was keeping the desk balanced. “It seems he found a better use for it.”

Yuichiro scoffed and snatched up the book for himself. The insult done to him in his bedroom would've been sufficient to make the day memorable.

“'Latrodectus species' is the word you’re looking for.”

“I know what to look for, Kimizuki! There! Latrolala—”

He clasped his throat, and his blood drained from his face. The species' representative was the vampire prince he met earlier. Though the drawing lacked any upsetting detail, the likeness sent goosebumps up his arms. He masked his fear with a cough and read into his nightmare’s biology.

“Hey, Yoichi? Remember that incident five years ago? With that one esquire’s brother? Yuji, was it?”

Of course he did, Yuichiro thought. The only person who ever refused to listen was himself.

And there was no doubt Kimizuki knew that.

“Yeah… He went into the prince’s room, too, right? To steal something for a debt? And once he got home to pawn whatever it was he stole, he died?”

“He didn’t just drop dead,” Yoichi corrected.

“You’re right… He gasped in front of the merchant. And his muscles convulsed. And then he dropped dead. Poor bastards thought it was cyanide poisoning. Took them forever to realize he inhaled vampire pheromones. But hey, Yu’s still alive for the time being, so he couldn't have been in heat. Good for him!”

“Kimizuki…”

Yuichiro flinched. Every word he read verified his companion’s fear mongering. A sickness festered in the back of his mouth.

Mikaela didn’t have a ‘mate’ in its contemporary sense. He had a sacrifice. To mate meant consumption. The prince's venom halted a vampire’s disintegration, liquified their organs, and then he would drink them hollow.

Poisonous to humans, venomous to bloodsuckers, the chart ranked both species on how well their blood lowered his aggression.

“Do the alphas even have a scientific name? I don’t think—”

Yuichiro slammed his book in a manner that cut Kimizuki off. His good-humored disposition had collapsed into something dark and contemplative, and though his eyes were intense, he stared at nothing in particular.

The hush that followed was so prolonged that his chair’s creak startled his friends.

When he dug out his worn pair of toe spat boots, Kimizuki and Yoichi rushed to block the entrance.

“I’m sorry, okay!? I was just kidding!”

“Yu! Do you have any idea what time it is!?”

Yuichiro's smile clashed with the desperation that still lived in his features. He kicked into his shoes, maneuvering past his friends with such tenderness they gave way like feathers.

“Sorry, guys. I’m not going back to the estate.”

“Then where are you going?” Yoichi said, burying his chin into the fluffy little dog’s locks.

“Guren’s got this stupid idea that putting me near that bloodsucker could ‘save’ me. If I wait to go, nothing’ll change from today.”

“So what!?” Kimizuki spat, “You’re going to the Illustrious estate by yourself!?”

“It’s okay! There’s a guy there named Norito. He’s Guren’s friend. He’ll help me think of something.”

“Think of what!?”

“If I’m not back by morning, make up an excuse for me. I’m counting on you!”

“‘An excuse!?’ Are you crazy!?”

Yuichiro heaved a sigh, expelling with it the remains of his uncertainty. When he threw open the door, the darkness of the hall caused an involuntary shudder. He expected a garden to sprout beneath his feet.

“Yu, please…”

He grinned back at Yoichi, catching the almost human-like disdain in which Lady Ariadust sniffed at him.

“The only blonde monster I’ll tolerate is that thing.”

“Go take care of business, Master Ariadust!” The coachman cried, crushing Yuichiro’s hand with a wheezing laugh. “I have no qualms with waiting! You’ll remember, when I was down South, I had to sit for hours in excruciating heat as the vampires circled their shady willow trees! The devilish buzzards! My only items were a canteen of water and half a slice of Ezekiel bread! I had to make it last for eight—”

“Thanks, gramps! But … the friend I’m seeing inside can take me home!”

“Y’sure?”

“Yeah! Go back and sleep. Sorry I dragged you out here so late.”

His coachman released Yuichiro's palm only to squeeze him with both arms. His kisses left a faint trace of powder on the crown of his head.

“To see you again answered my prayers! It’s the duty of a grandfather—no! It is an honor for him to spoil his loved ones!”

He brushed off the locks he dirtied with his mustache, released his younger passenger, and waved until he was no longer in sight.

The crimson doors weren’t as perceptible in the dark, and they appeared farther away than before. He remained where he stood for an extensive amount of time, letting the drizzle freshen his skin and—God willing—loosen his legs.

The first step made him feverish. He couldn’t shake the feeling that a wrong move would cost him his balance, for the walkway felt narrower alone.

His focus stayed to the left, for the replica of the vampire queen was easier on his psyche. The statue’s translation had lost her more disquieting features, a blessing that Yuichiro realized he’d taken for granted.

His breath upon reaching the entrance was severer than he expected. He didn’t recall ever holding it.

There were no guards, no footmen. No one had the power to vanquish what awaited them.

Yuichiro’s stomach dropped to the ankles when the doors slid open before he knocked.

Emerging from what appeared to be an empty void was Mikaela’s servant, so he dropped his vision to the ribbons flowing down his chest.

“L-Let me—I need to see someone!”

Panic couldn’t shut him up, nor could it stop him in his tracks. He’d enter the Illustrious estate, he shouted to himself, as a dignified man of purpose.

“Welcome, human! I’ve been expecting you!”

The silvery voice of Mikaela’s aide, however, was a blow to the nerves for which he hadn't prepared.

He straightened his back and shoulders, clenched his fists, anything to compensate for the wave of nausea he knew for a fact distorted his face.

“How is that possible?”

The servant twirled the white ribbon around Yuichiro’s neck and yanked him into the mouth of the estate, which made the latter’s heart jump into his throat. He quivered not only from the glimpse of red irises but the frigid, lifeless hand stroking his back.

“My master heard your carriage about thirty minutes ago.”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Temptation.

Maddening, agonizing temptation.

Yuichiro buried his teeth into his tongue.

To wet his lips would be irrefutable damage to his pride. He had to remain adamant, to reject the decadent offering right under his nose.

Mounds of succulent meat, coated in brown sugar, were a touch away from falling off the bone, and their charred, sticky edges veered off the plate. Their sauces were vibrant and smelling of fat. To his left, an arrangement of peppered shrimp was sautéed in glistening oils. They rested on a bed of onion and legumes, seasoned to perfection.

Everything gave off a fragrance-heavy steam, and that was nothing to say of the homespun, buttery masterpiece on his own saucer.

Toasty and tantalizing, ladened with soy-spiked maple, his pork cried honey and grease.

Yuichiro’s only sustenance that day had been as sorry as his predicament: lumps of raw oatmeal and bread burned at the center.

With each minute his eyes remained on the entrees, his stomach twisted and groaned, but to look up from his brow was infeasible.

A monster sat across the table.

“Don’t be shy,” the vampire cooed, his laugh polished and foreboding.

“Eat.”

At this command, Yuichiro’s fingers inched toward the silverware, and he swallowed an unfortunate mouthful of saliva.

“… You said we were meeting Goshi.”

Weakened by an army of delectable scents, his reply lacked any of its intended force. The name of his father’s old companion was but a tortured sputter.

“We will! Trust me. But first, please join me for a meal. Don’t humans negotiate better when they’re fed?”

A bowl of pillowy, stuffed dumplings brought another fit to Yuichiro’s gut. Their arrangement of chili flakes resembled a smile, and he averted their welcoming stare.

Even the faceless breast of a duck greeted him with the utmost hospitality.

“It would bring me endless delight if you tasted the Maitake Consommé. Humans say it’s the hen of the woods—”

“Your master heard me way before I showed up,” Yuichiro noted, taking mercy on himself by changing the subject.

“Shouldn’t you be trying to eat me or whatever he told you to do?”

“What an accusation! My master is a kind, sensitive soul.”

“Uh huh. And how do I know you didn’t poison this?”

“Toxins in the bloodstream ruin your flavor.”

The monster’s counter was a valid one, however nauseating. To make matters worse, even the ominous ring in his voice couldn’t spoil his appetite.

“Your ‘Norito’ question hurts me. Am I not worth talking to at least once? Whatever quandary you have, I could assist you far more than a mere doorman.”

“What makes you so special?”

A hearty laugh echoed through the room with the upsetting resonance of a neck snapped.

“My name is Ferid. Ferid ‘Septimus Sator’ Bathory—designated aide of His Royal Highness and confidant of Her Majesty herself.”

Okay. That special.

Yuichiro crossed his arms and gave a snort of acquiescence.

“Now then, it’s only fair I get your name in return.”

Meeting Ferid’s gaze was an error—born from the habitual custom of introducing oneself. To his benefit, however, the persimmon pink of the dining room, their distance, and the dim candlelight relieved him of his nightmarish effect. Taking in his features was comparable to a spider’s mug: it evoked his disgust, he desired to avoid it on sight, but he wouldn’t flee in a panic.

He acquired enough solace, albeit begrudged, to take his unused knife, and with neurotic slowness did it rise from the table. Appearing too eager was risky. Only when he made the first incision could he stare down at his meal.

“… Yuichiro Ariadust.”

The moment his blade sunk into the meat, his dish became the scene of a crime. Blood splattered from a wound pinker than any rare serving of pork and oozed onto his sides. His weapon clanged against the porcelain at once, and he shoved his plate against the saucer of dumplings.

“What’s wrong?” Ferid asked as though bracing for a good laugh.

“Too raw!”

Within Yuichiro was a newfound ease, however. Not in his aching belly, but the relief of avoiding humiliation.

How dreadful it would have been if he expressed willingness to indulge from the start.

“I’m sorry it wasn’t to your liking.”

Tone far from apologetic, Ferid swiveled the blood in his wine glass.

“I thought if we consumed a similar meal, it would strengthen the bond between us—Hey! No need to scowl. Come, come, we’ve dined enough. Share your burden with me.”

Yuichiro was silent for a little, then assumed a posture immovable and upright. He focused on Ferid’s right ear to make a pretense of eye contact.

“You bloodsuckers made a mistake. Moving here isn’t a privilege! It’d suck, and my caretaker said there’s nothing he can do about it. I know, I know, ‘it’s so crazy you’d rather die than live here!’ But—”

“No, I believe you.”

The lengthy justification he prepared fell apart at once.

At the least, he expected a ‘why is that?’

There was no way a blood-sucking demon, whose every word implied a double meaning, would put his faith into such a vague explanation.

“What? Is it difficult to imagine I’d put faith into such a vague explanation?”

“Huh!?”

“Ahaha! It’s those eyes of yours!”

Yuichiro shot a glance at his reflection in a carving knife.

“… What about them?”

“They’re lovely, breathtaking even. They reflect your heart with such clarity. To lie is futile for a boy like you.”

“How do you know!? I’m a genius at lying!”

Having crimsoned to his ears; both from embarrassment and in disgust toward his flattery, he watched Ferid complete the rest of his meal without a word.

“To refuse the Illustrious Estate,” the demon continued, "isn’t running from your desires, like those other snobby, insincere aristocrats. Rather, it’s that very desire that keeps you from staying. What pleasures you to such a degree?”

Involuntary shivers ran down Yuichiro’s spine.

“My family.”

“Is that so? Yes, there’s someone special, that much is obvious. A person sinful yet good-natured, easy to confide in, someone you idolized at first glance. Tell me, where do you fit in humanity’s sociobiological hierarchy?”

“A-Alpha.”

“How fitting!” Ferid sang, brimming with satisfaction as if his question had a ‘right’ answer.

“True, your personality isn’t pretentious, aggressive, or entitled, but your biggest quality makes up for all three.”

“Which is…?”

“When I alluded to that special person, a fire lit in your eyes, one expressing a love that’s arrogant and all-consuming.”

Yuichiro refused to leave the edge of his seat. He wouldn’t submit to Ferid’s claims with body language.

“How desperate it appeared! It’s unconditional love in the worst meaning of the term! Indeed, good and evil are of no consequence to you—”

A full glass of pinot grigio splashed onto his face.

“Stop speaking like you know everything!”

Smile ever present, Ferid blotted his forehead and cheeks with a napkin.

“How cruel! I take back what I said about your lack of aggression!”

“Then hold still while I punch you.”

“You couldn’t harm a vampire. Only an idiot would try.”

“Great! I’ll be the first idiot to succeed!”

Ferid blinked, remained silent for only a moment, then gave vent to a roaring laugh.

“Amazing! Unbelievable! You summed up your humanity in that one response!”

Having dried his collar, the napkin returned to his lap in a fold more intricate than its original triangle.

“The always rampaging greed of humans… the arrogance of vampires scornful of everything… of the two, you’re way more fun to play with.”

“Too bad. I’d never play with a creepy weirdo like you.”

“Please watch your language. What would you do if I cried?”

“Not regret it.”

“Ahaha! Wallowing in regret is such a fruitless exercise, don’t you think?”

‘Gross,’ Yuichiro thought, ‘our opinions overlapped.’

“But alas, I do regret one thing.”

Despite his certainty the depraved vampire was lying, the confession earned his attention—more than he would’ve liked to admit.

“What do bloodsuckers regret? Don’t you have to care about stuff for that to happen?”

“Your doubt is understandable, but yes, if the mistake is grand enough.”

Yuichiro inclined his head.

“What happened?”

“I upset a god.”

With narrowed eyes and heightened skepticism, he followed up his inquiry with: “How did you manage that?”

“It was hundreds of years ago. I orchestrated a lovely song for it, and its voice was so magnificent it filled the entire palace. But it never sang again.”

“How come?”

“It was too extraneous, I’m afraid.”

“… Okay, so you’re making this up, right? You’re making this sound dumb on purpose, right?”

“You’ve been rather hard on me today! I assure you from the depths of my heart. I’ve been at a loss for how to get its song back, but you… maybe you can help me.”

“No! What the heck can I do!?”

A whimsical sigh, filled with lazy enjoyment, escaped Ferid’s lips. He propped his cheek up with an open palm.

“What a shame. Here I thought an Ariadust partner would help me save the head of the Imperial Order—”

Yuichiro shortened the distance between him and Ferid, exploding from his chair and slamming his hands on the table.

“Hold it! You know Guren!?”

The newfound clarity of Ferid’s face didn’t scare him back into his seat, but his grip on the tablecloth was relentless.

Traveling up and down his frame for reasons that escaped him, his repulsive irises raised the hairs on his neck.

“Since he was a young student! It’s true what you say, retracting a selection is outside his authority, but did he inform you this choice was of his own doing?”

“I knew it!” Yuichiro cried, his heart drumming against his sternum. “He said he was trying to save me!”

“And it stands to reason he needs saving as well.”

“Exactly! So tell me everything! Right now!”

“Does this mean you’ll help me?”

“Yeah! I’ll do whatever you want! Just save Guren with me!”

“Such adorable resolve! To join sides with a vampire for love—!”

“Enough already!”

Ready for the fray, irritable and determined, Yuichiro rushed over to Ferid’s side and seized his upper arm, though he avoided the devil’s face.

“C’mon! We’re leaving!”

“To Goshi?”

“No! You said it yourself, didn’t you!? You’re close to the queen and prince! They’ll listen to you!”

Under no discernible influence of Yuichiro’s strength, Ferid rose from the dinner table.

The rosy dining room, whose walls flattered the guest’s complexions, was a salon tucked into the stillness of an under-lit corridor. Framed by female torchères with their arms behind their backs, the light from the grand foyer shone upon the exit.

“Seriously, Ferid! If you knew Guren, you shoulda said so earlier! Especially if you wanted to help him!”

“Really?”

“Duh!”

His stride came to an abrupt halt.

Hand in Ferid’s and gaze downcast, Yuichiro hadn’t taken a gander at his surroundings when he first entered. In the dulled light of the candelabras, there was a heaviness about the 30-meter high room that being the only human present accentuated. At the heart of the staircase, a foreboding aura emanated from the left. A fear struck his heart that the darkness from Mikaela’s garden would flow from the alcove and strangle him.

He released Ferid’s arm and spun to face the ribbon on his collar. Even in his peripheral vision, the lack of clarity melted his features into something equally gruesome.

“All right, which way!?”

A sudden chime from a grandfather clock, resounding from a higher-tiered balcony, made him jolt upright.

“Good,” Ferid said, “It’s time. He can visit us now.”

“Who can?”

The gentle ruffle of cloth, the scent of sandalwood oil, and strands of silver all enveloped his senses. When a gloved hand clasped his shoulder, Yuichiro’s attention remained on a mosaic painting.

“Never mind that,” Ferid said, evoking the same discomfort to the ear as a fork against glass.

“We won’t be seeing the council tonight.”

“Why not!? They would see us if you were there, wouldn’t they!?”

His laughter was too close, sending another rush of abhorrence.

“You—You’ve wanted to save Guren for a while, right!? So let’s hurry and—”

Suddenly, Ferid swung Yuichiro like a rag doll and brought him to his chest. Every place their bodies joined felt unnatural, jarring, as though he installed himself onto his person rather than an embrace. There was no shared warmth. Yuichiro’s heat surged from himself to Ferid, wasting its energy on a surface numbed for eternity.

When he spoke, the eerie stillness of his breast remained.

“For someone who hates vampires, you haven’t truly learned to doubt others.”

“Wha—Hey! Let go of me!”

Yuichiro threw himself backward, and at that moment, his breath vaporized from his throat.

As he stepped away, something had scraped between his ribs and burrowed into his organs. A nasty, razor-sharp throb pulsated in waves. He trailed his fingers to his upper abdomen and met something frigid, sleek, and wet. He found them amassed with his own blood, and he slowly directed his vision toward the smiling monster before him.

“… Y-You—”

His voice crumbled into a whimper.

In a breath’s time, Ferid yanked his blade out Yuichiro, cleaning off the blood with a single thrust.

His victim fell to his knees.

Head spinning, his eyes welled up and stung. His environment clouded and spun. Every exhale was a deep, labored sob. The ringing in his ears deafened the scream that filled his throat like vomit. As he clutched his wound, torn fabric and body fluid dirtied his nails.

Only the voice echoing in his brain, unhinged and boisterous, was coherent.

You lied.

You lied.

You lied.

You lied.

You lied.

You lied.

Guren…!

He’d never see Guren again.

From this point onward, his family only existed in memory.

Narumi.

Mitsuba.

Yoichi.

Kimizuki.

Guren.

Guren.

Guren.

‘Wouldn’t it be better if you all just died?’

His mother.

‘You’ll like an omega as weak as me. Maybe you’ll groom one to love you, so it’ll be funnier when that person can’t leave.’

She was mistaken. He manipulated no one, and it was through an omega’s guidance he had survived. The figure he idolized, who gave him something to live for, the man who was the reason this staircase would be his grave…

He was family.

He owed him his life.

Conceivably, she’d find joy in that when they reunited.

Maybe she’d laugh when he told her.

Maybe she’d decide he was worth loving after all.

“S-Said… you’d…”

With each word, saliva and tears bled into each other on the marble.

When Ferid kicked him on his back, what should have been a scream was an excruciating dry-heave.

Above him was a stained glass creation of the monarch and prince, dull from lack of sunlight and taking an ample volume of the ceiling.

The clicks assaulting his ears must’ve been his betrayer’s heels.

To lie between the feet of a monster, dominated and at his mercy in every respect, brought a shame unlike any he experienced.

“But you are helping me! You’re doing an incredible job!”

Another infuriated gasp was all he could manage.

“Exquisite, isn’t it?”

The blade returned to what Yuichiro assumed was a scabbard.

His breaths grew agonizing, heavy, and short-lived.

“Aah, that scent is wonderful. If I drank you dry, your suffering would end.”

“D…”

A burning sensation intensified as he blinked away his tears.

“D… Die…”

“I’m only kidding. We had a deal, remember? In fact—”

“Ferid Bathory.”

Yuichiro turned leftward, a feat as immense as raising an anvil.

From the corridor that threatened to devour him, standing at the top of the banister, was Mikaela ‘Octavus Sator’ Illustrious.

Unlike their first encounter, his attire was nothing short of overwhelming.

Except for the occasional gold trim and cuffs, everything was a pure, spotless white: boots that rose to his upper-thigh garnished with diamonds, a hooded cloak flowing to his heels and fading away at the tip, as if a languid phantom draped itself over his shoulders, milky gloves, an ivory jacket with decorated buttons…

Coupled with his fair skin and locks, he was brightness in itself.

But the harsh polarity of his crimson eyes worked his slowing heart even harder.

“I trust you had fun at the coronation, my master, but it’s past your bedtime. I’ll dress you for the night after I’ve entertained my guest.”

Ferid spoke, but he didn’t understand a word, besides a few verb endings.

He thought he heard ‘dominus.’

Mikaela lifted his chin in contempt. Yuichiro couldn’t get a good look at his face (and thanked God for it), but the air grew colder.

“How could I stay in my room with such noise?”

“My most humble apologies, but come, appease a dying man and speak his language.”

Only through instinctive recognition of eye contact did he know Mikaela stared at him.

As he descended the steps, his cloak appeared even more ghost-like.

The tip of his boots stopped right at Yuichiro’s open palm.

“Very well.”

In a single glide, Ferid stepped next to his ‘master’ and gave him a slight bow.

“Is this the human I heard approaching? You should have disposed of it—”

“Y…”

It was gross to speak, painful to form words with his tongue.

He tugged at the end of Mikaela’s overgarment, though it felt like he held nothing at all.

“Yu… Yuichiro…! I have a name! Don’t you dare look down on me you vile—!”

With the last of his energy, blood gushed from his mouth and brought everything into a haze.

Either the world fell silent in interims, or Yuichiro’s brain refused to take in any more stimuli.

He knew this crushing fatigue wasn’t sleepiness.

His life force was depleting.

There was a sudden lift of his skull, and when it landed on something softer, his lidded eyes rolled back.

He was pushing against the weight of oblivion, but in a moment either cruel or merciful, his vision came into focus.

So warped were his senses that Mikaela transformed into a gentler kind of beauty, one immensely kinder to his psyche.

How ugly, he mused, that the face of a monster would be his last comfort before darkness took him forever.

“Even with the body you possess, you threw yourself into a situation this dangerous. Why is that?”

“Sh… up…”

“Hurry! It will turn sour once it dies!” Ferid laughed.

With two fingers, Mikaela stole a sample of blood from his waistcoat.

The pain in his ribs no longer registered.

Yuichiro’s cheek fell into a palm that kept it in place, and to blink once was a seconds-long ordeal.

“Ahaha, the poor dear. I can’t remember the last time I tasted a human on the throes of death. I’m so jealous, my—Master?”

It appeared the monster whose lap he rested on removed the skin of his hand, but his bit of consciousness told him it was a glove.

Although the volume depleted in their voices, its clarity remained.

“… What are you doing?”

After an abrupt movement that resembled a snap, blood oozed from Mikaela’s bare fingers.

“You can’t be serious…”

In the tradition of all their interactions he’d witnessed, Ferid’s master ignored him.

A ring finger pried open his teeth, and the middle pressed onto an eyelid that had given up on lifting.

“You forget yourself…”

The more he faded away, the more dying became a comfort.

“Forsake him. You don’t have to show any consideration for that blockheaded, spoiled brat.”

The bloodsucker’s words went from nauseating and frightening to the subtle white noise of a wind chime.

“Just drink him dry and finish it.”

His thoughts grew dispassionate.

Everything coaxed him into slumber.

“Or better yet, let me—”

“Silence, Ferid Bathory.”

Right as Yuichiro submitted, apologizing to his caretaker a final time, something chilled and wounded entered his mouth.

It pressed into his tongue and massaged a coppery wetness into his taste buds. A mysterious liquid trickled down his throat, inciting a reflex to swallow he didn’t think he had left.

Upon his third, a merciless, unbearable sensation roused him in entirety.

An intense heat doused every inch of him. It stung and pulled, and he was positive his skin was melting. Buzzards feeding on his flesh, ripping and tugging it from his bones, was the only way he could describe it. They cracked open his abdomen so they could yank out all his entrails.

And he burned to death all the while.

Once he became an empty carcass, each organ devoured in flame, he collapsed into himself.

‘Everything’s all right, Yu. Everything’s okay.’

His father’s last words echoed in his mind until the world went black.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

11 August 1867

Yuichiro awoke not to his mother welcoming him, but to a mysterious, unmitigated beauty.

Resting on a bed whose mattress swallowed half his body, he gazed upon the rain pattering against a skylight. The dark clouds had a peculiar fluffiness about them, pregnant with deluge that promised to be heavy and dirty. He could distinguish each drop from one another if he focused, bring them into slow motion, or make out their spherical shape as the surface tension manipulated them. Their sounds differed depending on where they hit the roof.

Together they formed a symphony.

Wherever he was, it couldn’t have been the regular sky he was watching.

Wherever he was, he couldn’t have been alive.

His form was too still; his thoughts were too at peace.

So enamored was he with the view outside, it was hours before he took it upon himself to investigate his surroundings.

To find himself in a underwhelming bedroom was rather shocking.

It was plainer than the space he occupied at Guren’s chateau. A vanity and armoire were the only items accompanying him. Like the monster who took his life, everything around him was devoid of color.

The afterlife looked boring.

“… Is this it?”

“Gooooood morning, newbie!”

“Ack!”

Yuichiro flailed off the side of the mattress, and his neck bent upon impact. The subtle pain that reverberated through his spine, however, disappeared as soon as it came.

To adjust his position was more disorienting than the fall. While he appeared to be all 59 kilograms of himself, he moved like he was five.

Yuichiro pulled himself up using the comforter as an anchor.

A young woman, rather short and with a humorous smile, leaned against the wall. Her candid little face complemented the bouncy, violet locks framing her chin.

But what astounded him most about her was the fact he could tolerate her presence at all. There was no doubt she was a vampire. The hint of a fang peeked from her curled upper lip, and her irises had the same plasma-like consistency of all the others he had seen.

How was it, in a room as illuminated as the prince’s chamber, did she evoke less discomfort than Ferid in candlelight?

On second thought, his final glance at the prince had been similar.

Death, it seemed, was the only phenomenon powerful enough to bring magnanimity to a bloodsucker’s face.

“Who are you?”

“Chess Belle!”

Her skirt floated to the cuff of her black stockings as she twirled, and her toe pointed like a knife when she curtsied.

“My progenitor title is ‘septimus decimus.’”

“Oh… Do you know where we are?”

Besides purgatory, of course.

The rain, the jarring, feathery-feel of his movements, and the otherworldly phenomenon of a vampire being nice to him could only mean he was in another state of reality.

“The Illustrious Estate!”

“Huh!?”

With the clumsy, newborn-freshness of his being, how was he still alive?

After such a traumatic injury, through what means did he survive?

His mother had beckoned him during (what he thought was) his final moments with a gurgling laugh, welcoming him to a peace she’d known since they tumbled down the stairs.

But her pressure on his fingers had lifted.

When he raised his palms to confirm their solitude, the left was smooth and untainted, while the right had an old blood stain that evoked a bizarre giddiness within him.

He inspected his waistcoat at once, tugging at the stringy bits of fabric.

The stitches were mutilated beyond repair, burgeoning from a slit whose origins could only be a thin and sharp weapon.

“Ferid…”

“Hm?”

“Damn it! I shoulda punched him when I had the chance! Forget that! I’ll kill him—!”

He raced for the exit, but a steadfast yank on his collar brought his face into the carpet.

The end of a heel tapped his shoulder blades.

“Woah! You’re not going out looking like that!”

Yuichiro spat out tendrils of fabric and, rather than landing on his side as he expected, found himself on his back through excess momentum.

“Who cares how I look!?”

“Horn does!”

“So!?”

She scrunched up her nose.

“You don’t know her! She’s sooo stuffy! I kept telling her, ‘if taking care of him is so important, you do it!’ Lord Crowley dumped you on her, not me! And—”

“Why would any of you care!?”

Mikaela’s frigid gaze intruded his mind’s eye. The disdain, the indifference—he gave him the same regard as seeing an insect’s carcass on the road.

Being the object of interest for any vampire was unfathomable.

From Chess’s newfound expression, a cross between sardonic and understanding, she must’ve seen the validity of his point.

“Sure, I’d rather study a human,” She said as if he had any knowledge of her interests.

“But you’re special enough for Horn to have her way!”

Rather…?

How did he deviate?

Yuichiro sat up without a word, chin tucked into his chest, and gaped at a stomach that didn’t rise and fall. Despite his conscious attempts to breathe, air never traveled through his nostrils. Panic began to seize him, but not an inch of him shivered. He fingered through the hole of his waistcoat, past the black film of his shirt, and nestled the injury-free skin under his sternum.

Nothing stirred beneath the fingers against his artery.

He lifted his tongue with apprehension, and a needle-like, elongated bone punctured the tip.

The wound disappeared the second he pulled away.

“Newbie? You all right…?”

Yuichiro threw himself at the vanity.

A demon replaced his reflection with its own, and at any moment, it’d reach out and place him in its mouth. Its ghostly pallor shone through his tanned skin, its ears elongated. His irises remained the green they always were, but vampirism had stolen their iridescence. What manifested as a whirlpool of blood for Mikaela was a sickening, foreign substance for him, forever churning about his own sinkhole-like pupils.

His throat wouldn’t tangle into knots, his heart stayed relaxed, and if he wasn’t staring at himself, his welled up eyes would’ve escaped his knowledge.

His scream was a tormented experiment.

To prolong his outburst was to search for a limit, praying the dam inside his head would burst and his body would take his distress once more. He drew his fist in preparation to crush the devil looking back at him, but the small doors of the vanity folded over the mirror.

Chess looked at him in silence, her face knowing yet devoid of any real sympathy.

“Who turned you…? Where did you come from?” She said at last.

Yuichiro rested his forehead against the ash wood.

“I…”

He closed his eyes, scavenging through the haze that was his death on the grand staircase.

Ferid raised his voice.

A spotless white blinded him.

A frigid object invaded the cavern of his mouth.

Like his father, his body engulfed in flame.

Liquid poured down his esophagus.

Back then, its texture was unpleasant, and it left a metallic aftertaste.

But its memory brought a languid heaviness in the pit of his stomach—an unbearable, sickening ecstasy that overshadowed all his other thoughts. His mind went blank, wiped clean by insatiable desire. Instinct put a name to it, commanded he search for the pleasure only its consumption would provide.

When he broke free of his recollection, however, every physical sensation died with it, and emotion ceased to flow into his body once more.

His sigh was empty.

“… I need to speak to the prince.”

“You think he might know?” Chess said, holding her chin between her fingers.

“Yeah… okay!”

She nodded twice, then unfastened the brass buttons of Yuichiro’s waistcoat.

“W-What are you doing!?” He cried, jumping away and shielding his abdomen.

“Dressing you for breakfast! Prince Illustrious always greets us before he drinks! Now hold still!”

Chess anchored herself to his white ribbon yanked off his waistcoat.

“N… No way in hell!”

In a frenzied panic, he grabbed her defenseless torso and flung her away. Upon impact, deep-set cracks fanned out from her body, and drywall fragmented onto the carpet. The garment remained in her fist, and Yuichiro, having underestimated his ability once more, rushed to her assistance.

“Woah! I’m sorry! Are you okay!?”

“Not to worry, newbie!”

Sharper pieces of the wall scraped against Chess’s forehead, healing as fast as the wound on his tongue.

Face aglow, she waved the tattered cloth like a flag.

“The only thing that arouses me is all this blood on your clothes! It smells so good!”

“Thanks! Keep it! I think I’ll dress myself, though!”

He approached the wardrobe that nearly collapsed after Chess slammed beside it, but his outfit was puzzling. The long shirt donning an inscription and its matching pants were fine, but the assortment of straps, the band, the detached collar, and the random decoration of red and gold had no perceivable role.

Why wasn’t one belt enough?

He took the least confusing item and surveyed it in all directions.

“…How in the—”

“Need help?”

“Absolutely not!”

A teasing grin brightened her face, and she pointed to the full foot tights hiding in the corner.

“Those first!”

“R-Right!”

Minutes passed, and Chess, patience depleted of his inspection, pushed him aside.

“Augh! Hurry, hurry, hurry!”

As Yuichiro pivoted, there was a tight grip on his shirt, and in one yank, he stumbled out of all his clothes.

Another stagger backward, and the black tights covered his total lower half.

He was certain his form-fitting attire, and the two belts that hugged his hips, would’ve brought great discomfort if his lungs still functioned.

The assortment of materials he found useless were a careful network of neck and shoulder pieces, fastening a UV-band on his arm and keeping his cape afloat.

His view of Chess was blurry during the whole ordeal, and she didn’t regain clarity until she gloved his hands.

“There!”

“What the—How did you—!?”

She caught his hand, with fingers that lacked the prince’s corpse-like stillness, and threw open the door, further destroying any notion he was in the afterlife.

The hall they entered was frightening not in its splendor, but in its perfect, inescapable reflection of himself. The demon who stole his body returned, donned in clothing far too pristine to belong to him. He squeezed his eyes shut, for his hearing was more than enough to get around.

“We’re late already, but not too late for a quick glass!”

Yuichiro returned the grip on her fingers.

The lustful convulses in his stomach took considerable time to disappear.

The insinuation alone had the power to arouse, and it flared the farther they walked.

With each step, the pungent, mouth-watering scent intensified, and to mask his nose was a futile endeavor.

As they traveled down the stairway, euphoria rose within his breast.

The sound of large double doors met his ears, his hand became free, and the sight before him set his mind and body ablaze. At a table in the design of a horseshoe sat close to 70 vampires, blood sloshing about in shimmering glasses. A joy akin to nostalgia took hold of him, of encountering something he’d always known and had always belonged to him.

It smeared against their chins, dirtied their napkins, and tainted the pearliness of their fangs.

Not since Ferid had Yuichiro seen laughter climb from the throats of those whose eyes looked so empty.

“C’mon! There’s still a human taking orders!”

She installed him into an elbow chair of beechwood and plopped into the seat next to him, waving to a young servant in the corner.

Her approach was slow yet urgent. She curtsied upon meeting them, but her gaze lingered on the scarlet flooring.

“Welcome, Lady Chess.”

A girl of five-and-twenty, whose beauty mark, Yuichiro noted, was in the same place as Narumi’s, removed a writing pad and utensil from beneath her arm.

There was a practiced avoidance to her eyes he identified at once.

After all, he used it himself while dining with Ferid.

“A man’s, please. Not too young. Someone who’s in his thirties, or however old you’d guess Lord Crowley was!”

“And you, my lord?”

He searched around until an elbow jabbed him in the arm.

“Oh! Uh…”

“Make it two!” Chess added with haste, shooing the woman away.

The girl’s head lifted only when she faced the corner once more.

He was a repugnance, like every other bloodsucker among him. To glance at him would be to look at a threatening, infected wound.

What would Guren do with an apparition for a son?

He, a monster, whose flesh carried no warmth? Who couldn’t tolerate his own reflection in the gilt bronze of a candle holder?

The woman had stimulated him, not from her style or elegance, but the life flowing through her veins.

Anywhere was safer than him.

Death hadn’t taken away his home, but the vulgar cravings did. His vampirism traded his family for a stomach full of hot blood.

When a cup was set before him, he despised how it mollified his despair, stimulating and revitalizing him like a drug.

He sat up in defeat, giving Chess the attention she requested with a light tap on his arm.

“What’re you waiting for? You gonna drink that?”

Yuichiro’s face darkened at her almost-full glass.

“… No.”

He knew nothing of its source.

Chess ordered the blood of a man in his thirties. The likelihood of said donation being Guren’s was small, perhaps minuscule, but it was large enough to decline.

He mouthed his rejection once more (this time to himself) and drew his lower lip between his teeth.

He held his gaze above eye-level, above the monsters consuming the life force for which he pined.

Installed on an indoor balcony was a magnificent organ flanked between rich velvet, gold leaf, and cherubim. Its precious stones made a light display on a table for two, adorned in similar fashion to a throne canopy.

“That’s where His Royal Highness drinks! And Her Majesty, if you’re lucky,” Chess said, pulling him out of his reverie.

“… I don’t get it. Shouldn’t breakfast be at night?”

“Why? Humans aren’t awake then—”

Like all those around him, she cut herself off and stood from her seat at once, yanking up him as well.

“Hey! What’s going on!?”

“Shh! Be quiet! He’s coming!”

“Who is!?”

She joined the female vampires in a small curtsy without answering.

The men gave a simple bow of their heads.

Yuichiro’s, on the other hand, remained upright, looking around until the prince and his aide made their appearance.

They greeted them in unison.

“Good morning, Prince Mikaela ‘Octavus Sator’ Illustrious—”

“ Hey! You!”

He thrust his index finger toward Ferid, who carried the ends of Mikaela’s cloak like a wedding veil.

The former smiled, inciting more anger within him.

“There you are, you smug lying bastard! You think you’re so clever, don’t you!? How dare you do that to me!?”

Awe transformed the other vampires’ faces, who kept their bows yet glared as if he committed sacrilege.

Chess seized his arm before he could step forward.

“What are you doing!?” She hissed, “That’s Lord Ferid! His Royal Highness is right there!”

“I know who that is! And I’ll die before kneeling to some filthy, evil bloodsucker like—Mmph!”

The death grip over his mouth was so tight her nails dug into his flesh.

“I’m so so so so so sorry, Your Royal Highness! A million apologies! He—He doesn’t know to whom he speaks!”

Mikaela’s unaffected expression didn’t surprise Yuichiro, but it aggravated him further.

Peeling her fingers off his face, he shouted, “I know ‘to whom I speak!’ You’re not special you—Mmph!”

“You are not to address the prince with such familiarity!” Another vampire said after Chess silenced him again.

“His name is Mikaela ‘Octavus Sator’ Illustrious! Call him as such and beg for forgiveness!”

Uproarious shouts of agreement followed from the crowd.

Once the upheaval died down, Yuichiro uttered his non-apology as loud as he could.

“My bad, Mika Something-Something!”

Bloodlust rose in the audience, and Chess moved her grip to his throat, raising him off his feet with a terrified grin.

“I-I can throw him outdoors when the sun comes out!”

“No you won’t! Put me down!”

He kicked his legs in no particular direction, for his lightness remained a novelty.

Mikaela approached him.

Had he been unaware of the prince’s disinterested mannerisms, Yuichiro would’ve taken his flat tone as an insult.

“Tell me your name.”

He treated it as one, regardless.

“Whaddya mean ‘my name!?’ I told you already! What? Didn’t matter when I was human you stuck up—”

Thud.

His nose reunited with the floor, and Chess’s heel found its way to his back.

“I know! I’ll cut off his head and bury it in the garden! How about that!? Is that okay with you, sir!?”

Yuichiro raised his chin with a scowl.

Twice now he lied at the prince’s feet.

Ferid set down the ends of his master’s cloak and leaned into his ear, whispering Yuichiro’s name with the thrill of exposing a life-ruining secret.

“I see. All of you are excused.”

“Yes, Your Royal Highness!”

The vampires took leave with glasses of leftover blood, and Chess abandoned him with a blown kiss.

A sense of longing struck him the moment his gaze met Mikaela’s. Never would he have imagined the vampire of his night terrors, whose illustration alone plagued him with chills, would be this soft to the eyes. The prince he saw while knocking on death’s door was supposed to be a fever-dream, a trauma-induced distortion.

“Dine with me, Yuichiro Ariadust.”

His stare wasn’t that of a bloodsucker to a human, teeming with vulgar bloodlust and scorn.

It was so neutral it bordered on vacant.

Yuichiro gave a short, mirthless laugh and rose to his feet.

“No way! You’re used to everyone just obeying you, huh!? Well I’m not like those other kiss ups! You’re gonna tell me something!”

“As you wish.”

His lackadaisical compliance was more annoying than any refusal.

Despite his graduation from dinner to peer, that air of ‘anger is meaningless because I could extinguish your life with ease’ remained.

‘I’ll humor your question,’ his expression read, ‘you can’t do anything to me anyway.’

“I drank your blood, didn’t I? Is that why I’m a vampire?”

“Yes.”

“Your servant tried to kill me! Isn’t that what you wanted!? Why did you save my life!? What’s the point of turning me!?”

He ignored Ferid’s laugh, how clean it was of the disquieting ring it had prior.

Mikaela’s answer lacked any hesitation.

“Your blood. I liked it.”

A dreadful recognition dawned on Yuichiro’s face.

His word choice was far from accurate. His ‘rescue’ was a mere act of preservation, giving his meal an eternal ice box so he could feast on it later.

“So you thought I’d just… give it to you!? That I’d offer myself like some stupid pet!?”

“Did you wish to die?”

“As opposed to being a bloodsucker like you!? Of course I did!”

Hands balled into fists, Yuichiro stormed off with Ferid’s silvery laugh buzzing in his ear.

His stroll was as aimless as it was brief. His mind filled with images of his precious family, and to enter the ballroom’s kitchen was the fault a flustered appetite.

There was no collection of brass pots, no stoves or match safes. A cruet set and mixing bowl were also absent. There were only iced bottles, crates labeled with age and gender, and a group of ‘cooks’ to organize them.

Their attire was closer to that of nurses, with heavy gloves and cotton kerchiefs covering their hair.

Upon his intrusion, they cowered into a single corner.

The youngest of all women fanned out her arms, motioning the others to stay back and gripping a ladle in her hand.

Yuichiro desired nothing more than to reassure their safety, but how could he when the mere sight of them roused his hunger?

Their blood sent a lustful, gluttonous pulsation he could’ve mistaken for a heartbeat.

He should’ve been the one backed against a wall.

He should’ve been afraid, protecting his friends while tears spilled down his cheeks.

In the presence of humans, he was just a monstrosity they prayed would disappear.

And his entire family would feel the same way.

Wrecked with desperation, he raced to a small table of cream molds. He tore through the protection of a packed lunch, scooped roasted pine nuts into his palm and forced them into his mouth.

They tasted of air, and specks of ash fell onto the tile.

Rosemary and saffron disintegrated past his teeth, the cinnamon cloves he hated since childhood failed to reach his hard palate. Sugared lemons, dates soaked in oil, everything became a handful of dust.

He was already ruined.

Beyond saving.

Shame returned him to an empty room. Mikaela and Ferid occupied the higher balcony and didn’t spare him a passing glance. He pulled out a chair, rested his head on the table, and fought the urge to lick the stains.

Until his tears speckled the cloth, he didn’t know he was crying.

While his body prayed for a morsel of blood, he wondered what his family ate for breakfast.

What mean-spirited quips were Mitsuba, Narumi, and Kimizuki exchanging between sips of black tea?

Did Lady Ariadust already make her rounds to everyone’s legs and request (she was far too proud to beg) a morsel or two?

Whatever excuse Yoichi came up with, he hoped it explained his absence forever.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Yuichiro knew not the time, nor had he any sign of how long he’d been all alone. He, who once couldn’t bear to be without company, found no use in allaying his boredom. His hunger pangs were the most alive sensations within him, and who besides those he swore to protect could satiate that?

Lacking any desire to partake in vampire society or explore his ‘new home’ left him one option: wallowing in grief as the enthralling blood stains promised mind-splitting temptation for the rest of his life.

The lights were dimmer, but the room reserved its clarity.

Night and day lost their meaning.

Such phenomena always prompted glimmers of nostalgia for his human days, for the most basic of actions, such as sharing a candle with Yoichi as they crept into the cellar and stole a snack when study sessions bled into the early, moonlit morning.

The inescapable horror of his own reflection brought his mind to every blasé event where he’d adjust stray locks of hair, a consequence of going to bed with his hair wet. He’d stop in front of the Chateau’s window before tutoring and fidget until he’d exhausted Kimizuki’s patience.

Tragic, intolerable artistry warped his original features into something he’d never accept.

Vampires paid him no mind and maids passed by his seat, no doubt elated to skip the sight of a bloodsucker’s face.

Their neglect was a godsend. He didn’t even want blood—

That couldn’t be farther from reality.

To lift his head and watch those indulge would throw him off the edge. How thankful he was they paid him no mind.

The congregation came and went three times that day.

Despite Guren’s teasing about his neglected vampire related texts, he recalled a sentence below the header that bloodsuckers only required a drink every three days. To consume in such excess was a mark of a lustful, exquisite indulgence whose urge he knew intimately. The thought would make him sick if he wasn’t trapped in a body that wretchedly empathized, sickening him with envy.

To call them ‘spoiled’ was mere lip-service to the humanity he no longer had.

He amused himself the only way he could since vampirism took hold of him—admiring the unmitigated splendor his vision afforded.

He centered his gaze on subtle hues and shades, such as the intricate gleams bending reflections on each arrangement of silverware. A single rose never looked so intricate. Arranged into a spiral, their color bore resemblance to the only thing that made his body tremble.

But it didn’t matter.

Nighttime was for sleeping, so the side of his face pressed against the tablecloth.

Perhaps if he resisted their schedule, stood against the eternal flow of time he was to assume, his heart beat could return.

If he closed his eyes and prayed hard enough, he’d drift into slumber and awaken to a gentle yet desperate knock on his door from Kimizuki, chastising him for sleeping in to avoid conjugating Latin verbs.

Strange… He remembered the vocabulary easier than before.

“Rise and shine!”

Across the table skidded an entity that resembled a black snake, tearing through the cloth and causing the entire wing of the table to rumble.

Yuichiro found himself on his back at once.

“Hey! What the hell was—”

The aforementioned ‘black snake’ had been a tightly coiled whip, whose owner was none other than the friendly source of his irritation since he awoke.

Her grin sparkled, and she gave a pose she thought darling, holding the back of her neck and batting the lashes of her doe-like eyes.

“Ugh… it’s you again.”

“I beg your pardon! I have a name!”

She repeated the twirl and curtsy of their first meeting, albeit with a darker expression.

“I’m Chess. Septimus. Decimus. Sator. Belle!”

A moment passed in silence, and he replied with a roll of his eyes, “Chess. Got it.”

“You’re so rude!”

Having displaced him rather barbarously, she took to surveying the tiny space he once occupied. She lifted the torn cloth, fingered through the soil of toppled over floral arrangements, and with a final poke and prod of a random stain, she returned her dazzling gaze to Yuichiro.

“You’ve been sitting here all day!?”

“So what!?” Yuichiro countered, bashful and defensive of her correct deduction.

What else was there to do but curse the prison of his own flesh?

The sudden, unequivocal disappointment coloring Chess’s face, coupled with kicking his chair in such a way it returned to its original position, inspired the urge to both laugh and ask if she needed help.

“Lord Crowley said your being here was ‘special...’ She began, her eyes glittering with vexation.

“From what I’ve seen, you have no manners, you’re a total weirdo, and you’re not even grateful to His Royal Highness for turning you!”

She assigned each of his failures a finger and shook them in his face.

“Like I care!” He swatted them away. “And who said it was him!?”

Her expression softened, and gracing her features was a culpability (or embarrassment, the former was too strong a sentiment) of which he didn’t know she was capable.

“Ahaha… Horn yelled at me for threatening to throw you in the sun.”

In a breath’s time she invaded his person, inspecting the stray lock on the crown of his scalp to running her fingers down his cape.

He jerked backward to no avail.

“What’re you doing!? Hands off!”

“What did he see in you?” She asked more to herself as she bent his wrist back and forth.

“Are you just some riot he likes to watch up close?”

Snatching his hand away before she could remove his glove, Yuichiro cried, “I don’t think ‘His Royal Highness’ thinks at all!”

“There you go, being ungrateful again!”

“What’s there to thank!?”

The floaty manner in which he rose felt more natural each time.

“What do you want anyway!? Leave me alone if I’m so boring!”

Realization dawned on Chess’s face as though his quip were a groundbreaking counterpoint.

“Oh, right! I’m here to pick you up!”

“You actually forgot!?”

She hooked their arms together, and declared with a beaming grin, “It’s playtime!”

Her whip cracked against a candelabra, splitting it in half before it toppled onto the floor.

“That’s why I got this!”

Skepticism scrunched up his face.

“What kind of ‘play time’ needs a whip?”

“It’ll be fun! Lord Crowley will be there!” She replied, not answering his question.

He might as well have been talking to himself, but festering within him was a germ of relief. With every moment he spent at his lonesome, that haunting cognizance that part of himself was dying grew stronger.

That yearning to resist his death, however faint, quickened his pace only slightly.

Their journey to another set of gilded double doors, more massive than the dining hall’s, seemed to escape his memory. If one asked him to connect a corridor to the next, or to retrace his steps, he doubted his ability to do so. Chess, for what it was worth, navigated them with that confident yet absent-minded leer of hers, betraying nothing on her mind that inspired such a look.

The eyes of the appropriate species transformed the Illustrious Estate as if the breadth of its grandeur required an unworldly lens, and all it marked inferior received only its haunting disdain.

What awaited him, however, was a place that tossed him violently into his memories.

The room was his favorite in Guren’s abode, a promise of action and fighting Kimizuki for playful sport or out of genuine irritation, whatever suited their mood that morning.

The measured-out platform, the skids across the polished floor, Mitsuba sitting bitterly to the side after kicking during a fencing match, the pleasurable clang of sabers…

“We’re… sword fighting?”

“Yep!”

Where he and Kimizuki made idle conversation, Guren having benched them for one corps-à-corps too many or refusing to comply with their respective target areas, vampires aligned without saying much of a word to each other.

His question bore repeating.

What did Chess need with a whip?

“Now, let’s find you a sparring buddy!”

Like each room he‘d witnessed prior, the fencing area’s grandiose architecture held a theatrical air. The pews were stacked in tiers, with horseshoe-shaped balconies that befit a concerto hall and promised an unobstructed view. Wooden structures, from the floor to the benches, all emitted an inviting gleam.

The quality of every footstep was a testament to its acoustics.

She sheltered her eyes from the light as she glanced about, a useless accommodation he attributed to her left-of-center mannerisms.

“Just so we’re clear,” He started, though he put no resistance in his step, “I’m not making friends with any of you—”

“Aha!”

“Listen when people are talking!”

They approached two vampires who, to his surprise, spoke with a flair of companionship. One rested his knee on the bench, prattling on how he found the blood of girls too mild, preferring that of boys’.

The other, without looking up from a biological text on veins and capillaries, preferred that of middle-aged women.

Was that how their small talk worked?

Regardless, he was more accessible than anyone busy sparring or resting in the pews, and no one else could dull his contempt anyway.

“Lacus!”

‘Lacus’ betrayed the same exasperation of his own face when in Chess’s company.

“So noisy… who’s that?”

His reference to Yuichiro harbored an emphasized annoyance as if he were another project of hers to inflict on an unsuspecting public.

Or perhaps that’s how he received anything that didn’t suit his immediate taste.

“This is Yu Ariadust!” At this, her palm met his back with a flamboyant slap. “He’s gonna be your partner today!”

“I told you I don’t want a buddy—”

“Agreed.”

“Huh!?”

Lacus gave a dismissive, condescending scoff as if he had any basis to share Yuichiro’s aversion.

“You’re not dumping some newbie onto me. Giving handicaps is boring.”

“What was that!?”

Chess’s sudden hand was all that forced a distance between the two.

“Ahaha, now, now—”

“You heard me. You’d just slow me down.”

A smirk betraying his eagerness to provoke blighted his ireful tone.

“Wanna bet, loser!?” Yuichiro cried, obliging to his physical invitation and sandwiching her fingers between their chests.

“I’ll take you on right now!”

“Are you stupid!?”

An elongated halberd leaned by his side, and Lacus thrust its needlepoint blade at his neck.

“With what weapon!?”

This did nothing to the latter’s assertion, and his posture remained deathly obstinate.

“Don’t need one!” He spat, “I can always deck you in the face!”

He joined their foreheads with a forceful slam, causing a brief falter in Lacus’s balance.

He recovered with enough speed to feign resilience but not enough to escape Yuichiro’s attention.

“Sure about that!?”

“Try me!”

“Well, you two certainly are lively.”

Entering the chamber came a vampire whose name, Yuichiro could only assume, was as excessive, unnecessary, and complicated as his exterior.

“Something good happen?”

The locks crowning his skull and framing his brow differed in color, and a violet cloth draped over his left shoulder for no apparent reason besides hiding his prominent scabbard behind a dramatic veil. His freer arm appeared dipped in ink, and only his exposed chest and loosely platted braid matched his serene, jovial expression.

His visage was an impossible cross of Mikaela’s ever-present apathy and Ferid’s permanent amusement.

Yuichiro narrowed his eyes, deliberating on which of his many features he’d rest his gaze.

“… Who’re you supposed to be?”

“Lord Crowley!”

Chess’s voice was a squeal, and she jumped into his arms at once, much to the irritation of the older woman at his side. Given her rather elegant form and strict posture, she must’ve been the ‘stuffy’ Horn to which she alluded.

“Chess dear, please assume the decorum of a progenitor.”

Before she could make a rebuttal, she silenced herself at the clap of Crowley’s hands. Every vampire around him hushed themselves in eerie unison.

They congregated to their seats, and even Lacus abandoned their impending duel with a begrudged “whatever.”

“You there! Sit!” Horn cried once Yuichiro was the only one left standing, mesmerized by the swift choreography of those surrounding him.

Wondering how such goofiness and authoritarianism could occupy the same court, to his profound irritation, it was only Lacus who created space for him, and he patted the area with that same smirk.

He obliged by shoving him off the bench.

“Everyone! Along with the exquisite weather, this evening bears another gift for us all!”

Yuichiro stiffened, readying his lips in snide protest, but he gave up once he made the connection.

A rainy day would be a bloodsucker’s haven.

“His Royal Highness, Prince Mikaela ‘Octavus Sator’ Illustrious will bear witness to our sparring tonight!”

As if on cue (and knowing Ferid Bathory, he must’ve stood there awaiting such a signal), from the second-tier balcony arrived he and his master.

Perched on his shoulder was the little, black cyclops, faceless and wings twitching like the day they met.

His spectators came to life in hushed amazement and inquiry, then each vampire rose, necks and legs bent in bows or curtsies.

Each one except Yuichiro.

“Hey,” Lacus said under his breath, “What’re you—”

“Not bowing!”

Mikaela folded his hands primly against the banister, and his presence transformed every voice into an unnerving chorus of acclamation.

“Good evening, Prince Mikaela ‘Octavus Sator’ Illustrious.”

What about staring at them was that worthy of praise?

“As you were.”

With newfound permission, Crowley continued to speak, but his words were sheer white noise next to Yuichiro’s new object of interest. His enemy’s servant handed him a saucer, balanced upon it a fragile teacup, and poured a vial of blood.

If the estate spoiled every bloodsucker with excessive intake, then the prince was the worst of all.

Mikaela acknowledged his gaze at last, despite sensing his glare, he was certain, the moment he received it.

He returned it with the passivity of any inconsequential, harmless moving object.

That same, newfound softness only deepened his insult, and Yuichiro felt the need to darken his scowl in compensation.

At this, Mikaela merely took a sip from his teacup.

“At least frown back at me you spoiled brat!” He whisper-yelled.

Just as he prepared another round of provocation at his one-sided adversary, his newer one elbowed his side.

“What now!?”

Lacus gave a quick gesture toward the balcony.

“… Why’d he stare at you like that?”

“Huh?”

That germ of resentment in his sour face, with a particular wariness on the ‘you,’ gave way to an easy interpretation on Yuichiro’s part.

“Who knows!?” He scoffed with folded arms, “Cause he turned me, I guess?”

“You!? Prince Illustrious turned you!?”

In place of the respect he thought inches from his grasp, so amused was Lacus that he threw his head back in laughter.

“You’re hilarious! Maybe I’ll keep you around after all!”

“What’s so funny!?”

He shrank into himself in the futile hope the sidelong glances would stop.

If he knew it’d fail to give him any leverage, he never would have confessed.

Besides, despite his monarchical status, he wasn’t that below Mikaela.

He wasn’t below him at all.

“What’d he want with an idiot like you!? A human idiot no less!”

“Forget Ferid!” Yuichiro cried, losing control of his volume and exploding from the bench.

“I’m killing you first!”

This time, the delicate hand of a smaller vampire didn’t come between them, but a massive lance the likes of which he’d only seen in storybooks.

It graced both their foreheads, stealing a few locks of hair, but the attack was too precise for that to be a mistake.

“You two! Silence!”

Thankful no warmth in his cheeks could betray his embarrassment, he exchanged a begrudged look with Lacus and returned to his seat.

“You should be ashamed to interrupt Lord—”

The surrounding vampires shared the vexation that chilled Horn’s features, but with a single hand on her shoulder, Crowley melted her irritation into that of ardor and quelled the bloodlust in the room.

How was he weird compared to this bunch?

“It’s okay.”

He gave Yuichiro a quick once over.

“He must be eager to spar. Well then…”

The unsheathing of his blade was a performance in itself. From the curtain of his sleeve, his rapier appeared, displaying a mirror-esque gleam.

“Which of you’d like to challenge me?”

“Me!” Yuichiro shouted at once, so agitated from excitement his mortal body would’ve collapsed.

“Let me fight you—!”

“Ah! I know…”

The entire group underwent his scrutiny until, at last, he glanced over his shoulder and right where Mikaela stood.

“… How about you, Your Royal Highness?”

An uproar of hushed whispers came from his audience, taking to so much chatter he could have mistaken them for human, or the phantom of human curiosity had possessed their every tongue.

“Has he gone mad!? Challenging an Illustrious!?”

“Does he wish to die!? A fool knows better!”

“Hasn’t he any awareness!? The mere offer deserves punishment!”

The crowd soon grew still, all eyes on their monarch.

Mikaela, as if his invitation didn’t need a prompt response, finished his teacup of blood, exchanged it for a red cloth, and handed it to his servant after he blotted his lips.

He enlivened his audience with a soft, laconic phrase.

“Very well.”

“He agreed! Did you hear that!?”

“Everyone heard!”

“He’s not even fazed! He truly wants death!”

“But he mustn’t! What of the progenitor who visited a century ago!? Who’d challenge him after such an ordeal!?”

“That’s what it means to a noble…”

“Hell yeah!” Lacus said, rubbing his hands together. “I’ve never seen Prince Illustrious fight! This’ll be good!”

They piqued even Yuichiro’s curiosity.

“Hush! Hush all of you! Lord Crowley…” Horn whimpered, giving her lord’s upper arm a tender squeeze.

“Are you sure?” Chess seconded, reflecting her loving worry.

“Sure! It’ll be fun! And I bet he could use the playtime! Right, Your Royal Highness?”

Without confirmation or refusal, Mikaela leapt over the banister and landed gracefully on a single foot.

His jump retained that effortless paradox of fluidity and power Yuichiro observed as a human, despite it unnerving him less. His cloak followed suit with equal smoothness, while Arcanu descended on the crown of his head, eye bulging at Crowley.

“Excuse me,” Said the latter, motioning towards Mikaela’s designated spot with the pinpoint of his sword.

“Would you be so kind as to forbid your pet from interfering?”

“All right. Do not protect me, Arcanu.”

At this, it snuggled into his hood, and Crowley motioned his own attendants to stand a few paces back.

They obeyed in regretful anticipation.

“Sword…”

His words were a spell, breathing life into its grip.

“Drink my blood.”

At this, a series of spikes arose and thrust themselves up the palm and through his knuckles. The weapon was bestial. As it filled its stomach, it dyed itself in stark crimson.

“Um, Lord Cr—”

He exploded off his right foot, causing a blowback so strong it knocked Chess off her feet and sent her cascading into Lacus’s arms.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

“Phew! Thanks!”

“Move it! I can’t see!”

No one could. Not without serious concentration.

Crowly’s speed transformed him into an indiscernible blur.

He was light on his feet, in contrast to his powerhouse build. No movement was wasteful, and from the flying lunge he himself got scolded for by Guren, his fencing style was…

Quite familiar.

He thrust and cut in an efficient and clean fashion, making use of the back of his sword as well as the cutting edge.

Unlike Chess, who inflicted collateral damage without foresight, he absolved the platform’s glossy finish from the skids and marks of messy footwork.

Concurrently, the prince offered no technique of his own. Save for his darting eyes, following Crowley as though he stepped in slow motion, not an inch of him stirred.

A swing to the neck prompted a tilted head, nothing more.

A lunge to the heart received a minor shift to the side.

If he calculated the blade wouldn’t land, he remained still.

“He’s dodging without a sweat…” Yuichiro thought aloud, utterly fascinated and hanging off the edge of his seat.

“Duh…” Lacus agreed, mesmerized enough to forget their previous quarrel.

Adding to their incredulity was the fact Mikaela stayed on his designated line. When Crowley’s blade hurtled toward his waist, he turned with his left foot anchored to the floor, his toes locked on an invisible axis.

“Lord Ferid really wasn’t exaggerat—hey!”

“Oh no,” Chess cried, squeezing her arms around Lacus’s neck like a stuffed toy, “Who do I root for!?”

“Who cares!? Get off!”

A minor shift, a push against his hilt by the finger, and a carefree half-step must have exhausted Crowley’s patience, for he made a sudden leap backward.

“You’ve gotta be kidding! At least humor me! Use your sword!”

“As you wish.”

The two leapt at once, though Mikaela’s didn’t cause the blowback of his adversary’s. When they landed on opposite sides of the platform, Yuichiro couldn’t make out a blade. Only a silver gleam as faint as it was brief caught his eye.

“Stay still, Crowley Eusford.”

“‘Stay still,’ he says! Come now, it’s unlike you to ask for accommoda—”

His preparation to lunge forward, however, showed the purpose of that command. His torso slid off his waist, as did his left forearm. So perfect was the cut that no blood amassed on Mikaela’s sword, and no entrails seeped from the wound.

“Lord Crowley—!”

With a gleeful laugh, he held himself with his right hand, motioning for Chess and Horn (for they had cried in unison) to be at ease.

Yuichiro only caught a glimpse of Mikaela’s blade returning to his scabbard.

‘When did he…?’

“That’s the prince for you,” Lacus whistled as if answering his thought.

The crowd watched with bated breath as Crowley hummed to himself, tapping his foot as his severed flesh reconnected, cells reformed, bone reunited with bone.

“Are we finished?”

Mikaela asked without a shade of mockery. He spoke in his usual tone of clueless disrespect, further solidifying how not mutual he and Yuichiro’s ‘rivalry’ was.

Such disregard wasn’t even exclusive to him.

It bordered on offensive.

“Not yet!”

Crowley raced toward him, and Mikaela kept his word. Red and silver met with a thunderous clang, which his newly sensitive hearing gave special weight. He moved in a style Yuichiro could only describe as ‘aggressive defense.’ His every move was a parry, intercepting Crowley’s sword with a rapturous, deadly rigor that never appeared on his unassuming face.

He was an unequivocal épeé fighter. Where Crowley reflected a saber style, a monstrous upgrade of his own moves, his monarch displayed that of his caretaker’s.

From the style’s design to puncture where more blood flowed, to their heavier blades reflecting a more traditional rapier…

It fit him too well, altering it into something cold-hearted and monstrously refined.

Not once did his noble, despotic resolution waver.

He found no use in counterattacks. He was so sure of himself that pride was useless.

Out of a petty desire to test his skill (and be a nuisance), Yuichiro cupped his hands around his mouth and cried: “Hey! Mika!”

He expected nothing from his trick, but Mikaela gave him full attention as if no duel was taking place.

He even lowered his blade.

Crowley was moments away from a flawless lunge, from a clean slice lopping off his arm.

“Got—cha…?”

Without looking back, Mikaela took hold of his wrist.

And with the ease at which he’d pluck peaches off Guren’s trees, he ripped Crowley’s arm from his body, sword in hand.

The tear differed from the pristine cuts of his weapon. He macerated the bone, blood splattered onto the platform, and the sound of torn skin, of lacerated muscle, echoed through his audience’s sensitive ears.

He returned it at once, however, his gaze never deviating from Yuichiro, and received a jovial “Thank you, sir!” he didn’t acknowledge.

“Yes, Yuichiro Ariadust?” Mikaela asked with chilling serenity.

Amidst uproarious praise and servile flattery for the prince, so over-the-top he could’ve confused it with begging for mercy, that ruthless dismemberment replayed in his head.

How soon he forgot every instance where he and Mikaela were sheer inches apart was a moment he toyed with death.

Having seen enough of her Lord’s pain, Chess jumped off Lacus and drug her nails across her flesh.

“Lord Crowley! You need to heal! Please!”

He raised her hand in offering and lapped its blood clean, earning the envious glare of his other attendant.

“Let me have—I mean, allow me to help you as well, my Lord…”

Small moans escaped Horn’s lips when he obliged, all the while Mikaela’s sole ‘aide’ popped out his cloak and hovered about his face.

A reclaimed spot on his shoulder was its only request.

“Oh dear.”

Hopping over the pew in a fashion equally graceful was Mikaela’s other servant, who rushed to fuss over his person.

“You did an excellent job restraining yourself, but do avoid rough-housing.”

Yuichiro narrowed his eyes.

He cradled the hands that tore off Crowley’s limbs as if the bloodstains were his master’s own.

What about that bore ‘restraint?’

“And your gloves…!”

In an act Mikaela gave a shocking amount of tolerance, his servant herded him to the exit with a firm grip on his shoulders.

“Come, I’ll prepare you a nice, hot bath for your trouble.”

“Um…” Crowley waved his newly attached arm. “I was the one injured.”

“Oh, hush. Who told you to challenge an Illustrious?” Ferid replied, eyes fixed on the towering double doors. “You only have yourself to blame.”

“Got me there.”

Whatever he whispered into Mikaela’s ear, it prompted from him an uncharacteristic farewell.

After a jovial and uncanny “Good night, Prince Mikaela ‘Octavus Sator’ Illustrious,” he didn’t spare even a half-nod before abandoning his subjects.

The two left as they entered, master ahead and servant lurking in his shadow.

“Let’s see… You!” Crowley said, thrusting his finger at Yuichiro, “The loud idiot over there!”

“That’s not my name!”

And furthermore, that could’ve easily applied the bloodsucker next to him, rocking his feet and sober from Mikaela’s disappearance.

“I don’t know, newbie. That one suits you pretty well.”

“Like you’d know! I’ll—”

“You’ll be training with me!”

“What!?”

“Ha!”

It didn’t matter if such favoritism brought him no joy, as long as it angered his rival.

“Everyone else, divide up into pairs!”

As the congregation readied their blades and dispersed across the room, after childishly sticking his tongue out at Lacus, he approached the ‘stage’ dirtied with his instructor’s own blood.

Even if he lost, he still held his own against him with dignity and amusement.

Mikaela didn’t give it his all, but who could manage such a feat, anyway?

He couldn’t even make him frown.

If he could reach Crowley’s level, at least…

Boyish joviality lighting up his features, Yuichiro exploded off the bench and rushed toward him with vampiric speed.

While Crowley returned his infectious grin, Horn received him with the distaste of holding something dirty.

“… This is the progeny of Illustrious?”

“Yeah! I am! So what!?”

Chess gave him a consoling pat on the shoulder, contradicting this action immediately with, “That’s how I felt, Horn!”

“I anticipated someone more…”

“Dignified?”

“Courteous.”

“Definitely less loud—”

“Augh! Shut up, shut up!”

Yuichiro pushed them out of the way with ease, took hold of Crowley’s lapel, and craned his neck upward.

“Make me stronger so I can beat up Ferid!”

The disdain he expected never ruined their Lord’s subtle grin. Instead, he grabbed a fistful of Yuichiro’s locks and massaged them into his scalp, a horrid rendition of hair-ruffling that surpassed Guren’s in discomfort.

“Well, aren’t you interesting!”

“Cut it out! I’m not a kid!”

Crowley obliged with a laugh, and out of his scabbard came his blade once more. The moment Yuichiro jumped back, however, he received not an attack but an offer of its hilt.

“You’re in luck. I tire of him myself.”

The sword appeared weak, almost brittle from afar, but he soon realized that was only by its adversary’s skill. It was hefty, commanded a powerful, steady wielder. Adorned with a strapping knuckle guard of intricate design, it could easily accommodate both hands.

“Someone turned by the prince should have no trouble handling my weapon. But first, we’ll discuss—”

“Got it!”

Before he could finish, Yuichiro made a sudden thrust at his torso.

“I’m gonna cut you in half, too!”

“Woah-ho! Not bad!” Crowley said, jumping to another platform line.

“But you’ll need to activate it!”

A mischievous smile stretched his lips, and with a single command of “Sword,” the grip throbbed beneath Yuichiro’s fingers.

“Wha—”

“Drink his blood.”

The same series of spikes impaled his hand, bursting forth from his knuckles, and he yelped more from surprise than pain.

As his body fluid drained, a rush of vigor flowed through him. His instincts, a voice in the back of his head, linked its pleasure with blood consumption.

A small gasp escaped as an unbridled lust to run wild surged through him. It enlivened his every nerve, his senses sharpened even greater than before, and with a jubilant cry, he continued to slash toward Crowley’s neck.

“Follow saber, eh?”

Part of Yuichiro didn’t expect to slice his limbs with Mikaela’s effortlessness, but it still angered him when he failed.

His attacks were off by centimeters. Hairs shifted out of place, or the smallest cut blemished his cheek and closed up in a heartbeat’s time.

“Oops! You’re fast!”

“So get hit already!”

“No can do! Sorry!”

At this, Crowley’s fist went straight for Yuichiro’s temple, but the latter caught it by reflex.

“Ha! Nice try!”

His fingers dug into his gloved hand, and when he couldn’t tug it off from the wrist, his adversary laughed at his indignant pout.

“You have talent. I’d expect nothing less of his progeny.” He dodged a swift jab at his forehead. “Little by little, your blade is getting swifter. Unfortunately, though…”

His leg slammed into Yuichiro’s side, sending him flying, sword in hand, toward the pews. His fall appeared in slow motion, giving him enough “time” to land on his backside with a resounding thud.

“Ooow…”

The soreness of his neck and spine was momentary, but he rubbed the back of his skull out of habit.

His opponent, sprinting over with that same grin, finished with:

“My sire and the prince’s are equals.”

He spoke with patronization that bordered on syrupy, as though his defeat was such a given there was no need for malice.

“May I?” He asked, reaching for the hilt of his sword.

Yuichiro paused for a moment, then sliced off his extended hand, which the former caught like a game of catch.

“C’mon, that wasn’t nice.”

“If they’re so ‘equal’ then why’re you weaker!?”

“Hm…”

Crowley feigned hesitancy as he watched his flexor tendon repair.

“That’s easy. ‘Cause I’m an alpha.”

As though his words were mere trivialities, they escaped his lips, and Yuichiro fell into a dismal silence.

Images of his old textbook came to life again in his mind’s eye. Vampirism afforded him no privilege under the Latrodectus food chain. He only traded one category of danger for another, replacing his poison with venom.

“Sword.”

The thorns receded from his flesh, leaving unsightly puncture wounds until every muscle, bone, and cell mended.

“Can’t rile him up too much or it stirs his appetite, you know?” Crowley added, slipping his weapon gently from Yuichiro’s grasp.

Of course.

Regardless of how neutral Mikaela’s disposition was, the frequent consumption of blood was all that quelled his aggression.

“I’ll take that as thanks,” A familiar, disquieting voice called from behind.

From his rolled-up sleeves and a towel draped upon his forearm, Ferid must’ve returned from running his master’s bath.

“For what?”

“I fed him before sparring!”

“Right, right.”

Satisfied, he cast a sidelong glance at Yuichiro, eyes trailing up and down his body and a hint of fangs peering from his smile.

Resting an elbow on Crowley’s shoulder, he asked, “Well, what do you think of my master’s new chew toy?”

“Chew toy!?”

“He’s studied fencing as a human, that much is evident.”

“I’m not a toy!”

“He’s just as cute as I remember, too!”

Exasperated of their attention, Yuichiro threw a punch that Ferid caught without trouble.

“Damn it!”

“And just full of energy, it seems!”

“I’ll say,” Crowley said, installing his palm on Yuichiro’s scalp for another round of condescending affection.

“Don’t take it to heart. Challenge someone weaker than us and you’ll see how gifted you are.”

“How is that a comfort!?”

Before he could shake off the revulsion from his touch, there came Ferid’s hand to pat his shoulder.

“There, there. I know what will help.”

“Staying away from me?”

“I have a gift waiting for you!”

“Not interested!”

“How cruel! I worked hard on it.”

His request was too sugary, too embellished, like Yuichiro thought him capable of genuine attempts at friendship.

“No!”

And at that moment, his true intentions made themselves known.

“I know! What if I said it’d help rescue Guren?”

That name, that magic phrase, was persuasive enough to set him aglow with curiosity.

“There we go,” Ferid cooed, a sly grin crossing his face.

The garments in Yuichiro’s hands, though lacking in complication, rivaled his current attire in brilliance. Reminiscent of the prince was that same spotless white and lustrous assortments of gold, a ribbon of silk and an off-shoulder cape that would fall to the knee. The neck insignia reflected him with absolute clarity.

At the heart of Mikaela’s chamber, he sat in a quintet of side chairs, made of gilded wood and upholstered in the same crimson damask as the bloody backdrop of curtains. Their formation was that of buzzards, encircling the corpse that was a table veered in ebony.

“The traditional vampire garb doesn’t suit you,” Ferid hummed.

He had left Yuichiro to his own devices as he fetched his master for bedtime. Between the angelic columns framing him like a painting, holding back the bed’s tapestry and putting their owner on display was Mikaela himself.

His gaze rested at nothing while Ferid groomed his bangs with a miniature, ivory brush, a single finger lifting his chin.

“You need something better for your future.”

Yuichiro grimaced.

“… What does this have to do with Guren?”

“Ah, yes!”

He withheld his answer until he finished adorning Mikaela’s nightshirt with a ribbon around the neck.

“I hope you don’t think I’ve forgotten our alliance!”

Just when Yuichiro thought he had his undivided attention, he retrieved a bottle of nail lacquer out of a small, mahogany box.

“Stop ignoring me!” He cried, yanking it from his grasp.

The complete disinterest from the party between them only worsened his embarrassment.

“Why wouldn’t I think that!? You tried to kill me!”

“I only stabbed you,” Ferid laughed, retrieving a vial of oil to massage into Mikaela’s skin.

“To kill me!”

As his fingers ran from his calves to his feet, thumbs encircling his flesh, the eerie lack of resistance on his master’s part, coupled with the deathly stillness in his features…

“Do you do this every night? It’s kinda—”

“Your eyes tell me you’ve never drunk human blood,” Ferid observed.

His observation, wholly divergent, was a verbal dismissal if he ever heard one.

Backing away and casting him a dirty look, Yuichiro replied, “Yeah, and I won’t.”

A stillness came over the gentlemen, during which Arcanu’s fidgeting wings and little hops were audible.

“When you become the thirteenth, it’ll be your guardian too.”

“… Thirteenth what?”

“Yuichiro ‘Tertius Decimus Sator’ Illustrious.”

The sweet temptation Ferid poured from a kettle, warmed and thick and with the mouthwatering consistency of syrup, kindled Yuichiro’s tortured lust anew.

‘My body hurts…’

“It’s your rightful place in the world of vampires. And you can drink to your heart’s delight,” He said as though reading his mind.

Or perhaps his suffering etched itself into each pained detail of his face.

'It hurts. Please.'

That never-ending loop in the depths of his psyche grew louder, harder to suppress.

Focus.

What did Ferid say?

That long name. It started with his own.

His eyes escaped to his lap.

“… That’s why you gave me these.”

In the back of his throat was a plea, a whine to beseech him for the teacup undoubtedly, inevitably, for Mikaela.

In rebellion, he drew his bottom lip beneath his teeth.

“See?”

‘Blood.’

“It all worked out.”

‘Not enough blood.’

“You’ll have more swaying power than me as a full vampire.”

‘I want blood.’

“Including the power to save your precious Guren—”

“I don’t care!”

His fingers trembled, his stomach quaked without mercy, and each lustful, torturous wave set his brain on fire.

“Why ever not?”

His nails dug into the arms of the chair.

He had only one rebuttal, one mocked by the incessant bloodlust that promised the only place his beloved family belonged was anywhere he dropped their lifeless, drained carcasses.

But even so…

“I’m… I’m still an Ariadust!”

He wouldn’t abandon them.

“And I can save him as one!”

Once his sire’s cup was in hand, Yuichiro found safety in raising his eyes.

In an act he wasn’t foolish enough to consider merciful, Ferid blocked his line of sight from Mikaela’s meal. The scent engulfed him as mercilessly as ever, but the familiar bundle in his arms captivated him.

“I thought as much.”

Replacing his royal ensemble was the one Guren demanded he wore when shipping him off to the estate. His shirt was free of blood stains, and he stitched his shredded waistcoat to perfection. Its refurbished state brought him to the morning their tailor, his smile brimming with joy, bestowed it in celebration of his “big day.”

It was more formal than he preferred, but Mitsuba and Yoichi’s eyes lit up when he entered the room, and that alone meant the world.

“I appreciate the sentiment,” Ferid continued.

“You may have lost your family, your home, but you have your name. As expected of an Ariadust.”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

A ‘thank you’ couldn’t have left Yuichiro’s lips. Indeed, he could only mumble some feint nonsense resembling gratitude. He brought the bundle to his chest, snuggling into the waistcoat, but this was out of affection for his loved ones.

Not its tailor.

He scurried out the room, his downcast expression more than making up for the lack of blood rising to his cheeks.

“Amusing isn’t it?” Ferid asked to no avail.

Mikaela didn’t respond, but what good would replying do?

What appealed to his tastes more than the offering under his nose?

With an empathetic laugh, he took to cleaning his workshop for the night. His master wasn’t as pampered as he’d wished, but that was of no consequence.

The prize of Yuichiro’s discomfort was his.

Wafting from the rug of elaborate embroidery was a faint hint of clover, for he swiped its contents with no consideration of its loose cap.

Impulsive. Reckless. Greedy.

“He really hasn’t changed a bit.”

His every statement was the death of he and Mikaela’s conversation, a series of observations met with disinterested swallows.

No matter.

His master spent the majority of his time in his own head.

‘Five.’

One by one, his oils returned to his little box with meticulous spacing, organized by color, scent, and ingredients.

‘Four.’

“Don’t forget, your sponsor cancelled your meeting with the progenitor council tomorrow.”

‘Three.’

Saucers, a teapot, a cream and sugar set for show—each was laid carefully on his tray of stainless steel.

How superfluous his aesthetic was! Such utensils weren’t necessary for blood.

‘Two.’

“Her Majesty wants to see you instead. She misses you with such passion!”

‘One.’

Another swallow.

“I tease! It’s a trivial matter, really—”

At that moment, two sounds echoed about the chamber: the teacup slamming onto the floor, and Mikaela, collapsing against the mattress.

Strewn across the canopy, a sliver of blood dripping from the corner of his mouth, there was nothing to distinguish him from a corpse.

In place of his searing, red irises were a raw, harrowing black, and his fingers curled in such a way they appeared to shrivel into his palm.

“Come now…” Ferid sighed.

Kneeling at his side, he gave his arm a gentle shake.

“It’s been centuries. I returned your darling princess. How long are you staying in there?”

Not that he blamed him.

What did he anticipate besides despair, boredom, and crushing, hopeless solitude?

He’d awaken in seven hours—plenty of time before his commitments.

As he straightened up the rest of his items, an inquiry crossed his mind: did Mikaela himself wonder about his lapses in consciousness? Did his blackouts appear out of nowhere?

Or was he too busy drowning himself to notice?

“What a pity…”

Never had he seen a vampire so desperate to cling to his own curse.

In any case, his partner would enter town soon.

To learn they had to get deeper, pry more, shake his world further…

“Why, she’ll be delighted!”

With the air of a perfect attendant, he raised his tea set and took leave in stride, affording himself one last glance at his master.

“Wake up soon, Mikaela.”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

? August 1867

Yuichiro didn’t know.

For two days, perhaps weeks, months, seconds, he closed himself up in his bedroom, hands gripping the sheets as vampirism bestowed the pleasure of yet another sensation: the exquisite torture of thirst.

The overbearing fever created a third person delirium. He existed outside himself. His thrashing and screaming must’ve belonged to someone else. How could he speak when the entirety of his insides were melting, stinging?

The nails clawing his neck weren’t his own. His body couldn’t be striking him with such self-terminating wrath. A sense of cruel abandonment washed over with each involuntary swallow. No blood doused the rawness of his throat. All that filled it was his own, oozing from his blistering esophagus.

His instincts were a perceptive, rebellious monster. It met any movement that wasn’t to latch onto a human with hot, searing pain shooting up his limbs.

He answered the knock on the door with the only exclamation he could muster: a crumbling, shaky outburst.

“Yuichiro! Are you in there?”

He knew that voice.

Gnashing his teeth into the comforter, he stifled his cries in the hope a refusal to speak sent him elsewhere.

To his dismay, Ferid let himself in regardless.

The footsteps were explosive to his sensitive ears.

But upon the third, a tantalizing scent drove him upright. His agony melted away. His head went numb, and pervading his sinuses was the grace every inch of him desired.

“I brought you something to drink,” He said with gentle malice, with the knowledge he was his savior.

Transfixed, Mikaela, as placid as usual, was but a haze in his peripheral vision.

“You’re not faring too well, are you?”

A single drop.

That was all he needed to stem the craving—to ease the unbearable misery.

“Ah…”

As he slipped off the mattress, taking a pained step forward, he could feel tears spilling down his face.

“Poor thing.”

Ferid refused to approach him, for his tortured stagger must’ve been quite the amusing sight.

But Yuichiro was too desperate for pride.

“No one will blame you. Even your family needs food.”

The little cup, that sweet trophy, quivered in his hands. He studied it for only a moment, inhaling its decadent scent. Its promise of comfort lured him with such understanding.

Moments from ecstasy, an unendurable horror caught his ears.

“I believed a man in his 30s befitted your palette.”

Yuichiro paused.

A choked sob parted his lips and deepened the curve of Ferid’s own.

“I had the maids prepare it special. From the house of Ariadust.”

His head spun. Bestial instinct implored him to throw away such ‘trifle matters’ like the owner.

This was his sole reason for living. The only thing that could ever bring him solace.

Should he fall, a joy unbeknownst to him would redeem however evil his act was.

Betrayal of loved ones was a human concept.

Tears streamed down his cheeks once more, over his chin, his collar, his shirt.

They burned at the touch and smelled of his own blood.

“Well, if you won’t have it, I’m sure my master is thirsty.”

At this, the world moved in slow motion.

Using the seductive pull of his own caretaker’s life-force, he summoned its energizing lure and hurled it against the wall.

“Yuichiro! What a waste!”

He knew that.

Watching each drop mix with the carpet’s tendrils, he could’ve wept for what went to waste.

But the sliver of his humanity cried in relief.

Both sentiments colored the outburst that ruptured his throat. He ignored every rebellious sting in his extremities as he shoved Ferid past the threshold, pushed him out the room, and slammed the door.

The attractive nightmare he’d feast on Guren’s blood had ended, and his stomach mourned with paralyzing affliction.

But he wasn’t alone.

His instincts sensed another.

There to meet his gaze was the very founder of his curse, whose decision to torture him with vampirism operated on the cruelest, most arbitrary of impulses.

“Why…?”

That he pushed a word through his burning lips was a feat in itself.

Mikaela made no answer, staring with an expression wholly impenetrable, as though his agonizing loss meant nothing or next to nothing.

“No, I get it… ‘my blood,’ right? That’s all you wanted…”

If he focused enough, he could pretend the pain corroding his body, a punishment for denying himself his family’s, was toward the vampire before him.

“Every time I see you, you’re drinking blood! What made me so special!?”

His hands burned with the desire to choke him, but such an action would be futile.

“You could’ve finished me off when I was human!”

To search for an inkling of sympathy in his eyes was trying to force open a lock.

“I… I don’t want to be a monster! I can’t even go home!”

So overwhelming was the utter uselessness of his cries, that all his despair evoked nothing from its originator, he collapsed to his knees.

His fingers grabbed fistfuls of Mikaela’s cloak, tugging on it like a lost child.

“You’re stronger than me…” He whimpered, burying his face into its ethereal cloth.

He’d never look up.

He never wanted to see him again.

“You could kill me whenever you wanted… and I—I’m never giving you my blood! So why not drink me dry and get it over with!?”

That torturous hush remained.

“That’s what you want, right!? Just kill me!”

He hoped, prayed for his cruelty, that within him was amusement as sickening as Ferid’s.

Anything but bleak, unforgiving apathy.

“Please…”

His instincts agreed wholeheartedly.

If he couldn’t consume blood, he was better off dead.

“They’ll hate me… I don’t want to drink my… I can’t go home…”

He repeated those words like a mantra, and with the death of his pride he wept:

“I don’t want to be alone…”

He greeted Mikaela’s customary silence as an admission of his suffering, but in a breath’s time, he found his sire kneeled before him.

His expression remained unreadable, and in an act that aroused his utmost confusion, he unfastened his cloak.

Cast his ivory jacket aside.

Unbuttoned his shirt until it fell past his shoulders.

Removed his pristine glove.

With painstaking attention did he watch him undress.

The nail of Mikaela’s index finger made a precise incision into his carotid artery, and he slowly dragged it downward.

Sullying the junction of his neck and shoulder was blood that bewitched Yuichiro at once, whose appeal was more overwhelming than any human’s.

“Drink from me. Then it will all be over.”

A wretched gasp escaped Yuichiro’s throat.

It welcomed him like a hot meal, breathed life into the shambles that was his will to continue on Earth.

Its scent forced out a moan for which he was too enamored to have shame.

Thoughtlessly, desperately, he tackled Mikaela until they slammed against the side of his bed, but the resulting injury was nothing compared to how much he yearned to devour him.

He scrutinized the wound, let out a despaired whine when it, in the nature of vampirism, healed.

The depths of his elongated teeth throbbed, informing him of his own means to break the skin.

His lips traced his sire’s flesh, high on the euphoria of what awaited him.

‘It’s here…’

He observed in awe, remiss of the humiliation, careless of his downfall, thankful for the prince’s lack of input.

‘If I bite here…’

When a hand graced the small of his back, he allowed his fangs to pierce into his neck.

He swallowed, and he was gone.

Filling him was something mind-numbing, fresh and vibrant, cleansing his insides. Not until drinking Mikaela’s blood did he feel the contamination festering in his person, how it stirred with the inhuman suffering of being a monster.

As it traveled down his esophagus, his stomach, his every cell cried out in reprieve, begged him to deepen their connection, to consume until he died.

Shame was a human concept.

Everything he held dear was inside him, and he basked in the afterglow of each swallow.

As his horrid gluttony seemed unsatisfied, he swore in delirium that the taste would never be washed away with another’s.

He moaned tenderly into his flesh, withdrew only to lap up the blood dripping from his wound, then returned to his sanctuary.

His fingers, clinging to Mikaela’s back, had relaxed, and he melted into his arms to drink in a childish embrace.

The memory of his blood would stay flat at the roof of his mouth, under his tongue, ingrained in his taste buds as an ever-present reminder.

Time lapsed again, he was sure, but the duration was of scant importance.

If morning succumbed to evening, or midnight to sunrise, he didn’t care.

He found sanctuary buried in the prince’s shoulder.

He had long since withdrawn his teeth. Appetite developed into a longing to stay in his arms, to never stray too far from his sustenance.

As the bite wounds healed, Yuichiro pressed his lips against his neck and cleaned the blood that dried against his skin.

Its remnants alone sent shivers up his spine.

In his eerie delirium, he hadn’t a clue of Mikaela’s state. Reality itself was up for dispute, so ethereal was the mind-numbing pleasure of his meal.

He rose, toppled ever so slightly, and felt that immediate support on the small of his back.

The doorknob rattled from the outside, but Yuichiro was too sedated, too busy studying Mikaela’s features, searching in the depths of his eyes for words he’d never receive, to pay it any mind.

Crushing delirium held his tongue, and his savior only returned his gaze.

Silence reigned, but never had it been so comfortable.

“Master?”

That was, until he heard Ferid’s voice.

A glance over his shoulder, and his mental faculties restored at once.

The compromising position in which he found himself could be nothing less than mortifying—straddling Mikaela’s lap, mouth stained with his body fluids. At one point, to get a closer glimpse at his person, he’d rested his palm on his cheek.

Mikaela was in no better state. His shirt tugged to his shoulders left their action incapable of misinterpretation.

A wide smile stretched to Ferid’s ears.

“Upon my word! What is this?”

“No, I—! I’m not—!” Yuichiro cried, throwing himself off the prince.

But this teasing acknowledgment was all he received. Seconds later, his existence became as minor as air.

“Her Majesty wishes to meet you about our upcoming guest. She wants you to host him,” He said, arranging his master's uniform into place.

Mikaela rose.

“His title?”

“Ky ‘Quintus Sator’ Luc. Do you remember him?”

“Yes.”

Without a single farewell, master and servant took leave from Yuichiro’s chamber, leaving him to his dumbfounded lonesome.

At closer inspection, the skylight allowed the amber of sunset to flood indoors, but that didn't mean anything.

He didn't even know the hour he locked himself up.

‘What just happened…?’

One minute he was sobbing over the thought of drinking his family’s blood, the next…

More than shame, the reverie of his sire’s blood brought an odd pulsation.

After a long night alone, attuning his ears to detect a semblance of a heartbeat, only to find nothing…

He gripped his throat, and against the warmth of his thumb was a newfound, yet very soft, throbbing beneath his flesh.

True, it was barely perceptible compared to his human pulse, but at its discovery, it intensified.

It couldn’t be thirst, for he was beyond satiated, giddy from his shameful indulgence.

Peeling off his glove with the carefulness of touching his own skin, he dragged a nail across his palm like his sire.

“Ouuch!”

It healed at the same speed, but his sense of pain had deepened.

His eyes trailed to his vanity, untouched since Chess invaded his bedroom.

He taunted himself, cowered, then dared himself once more.

Nevertheless, that heartbeat reverberating in his chest was just the encouragement he needed.

And to his surprise…

“It’s me…”

The demon relinquished him.

His pupils recovered from their sunken wreckage, and the amorphous sludge reverted to the vibrant green he’d always known. The ghostly pallor diminished to a simple undertone.

Though his ears remained pointed to a tip, the person looking back at him was none other than Yuichiro Ariadust.

His awkward, stupefied grin exposed his fangs, but the tears threatening to fall no longer smelled of blood, nor were they stinging and heavy.

They were clear, light, and undeniably human.

“That bastard had a point…” He laughed, words crumbling and tugging at his uniform’s insignia.

“These really don’t suit me…”

He approached the wardrobe where he stuffed his original clothes, a place he considered their eternal resting ground.

Such dissonance between his monstrous image and his clothing from home would’ve destroyed him.

But now, having fought out of his bloodsucker attire and dressed the day he arrived, the mirror greeted him with equal benevolence, welcoming his return.

He felt no more threatening than Lady Ariadust.

At the corners of his mouth were stains of Mikaela’s blood, deflating his excitement to a contemplative lull.

Crowley had drunk from his attendants, and they from him, but they remained inextricably jarring in their supernatural beauty.

Then why…

Whether trusting him was the correct move, he didn't know. But the prince helped him again, and he needed an answer for that.

He threw himself out into the hall of mirrors, and projected on each pane of glass and crystalline fixture was his newfound, pseudo-humanity, the reclamation of his personhood.

Savoring each passing reflection, despite the thirst he knew anchored him to the estate, deep down he wanted to see his family, to gauge their tolerance of his presence.

And at that moment, he slammed into the answer to his question.

A splash met his ears, along with the shattering of a teacup to pieces. Its owner was a young woman, rosy-cheeked, bright-eyed, and donned in a servant’s attire.

“Damn it! Would it kill ya to watch where you’re… uh oh.”

Moments passed as they held each other’s gazes, then she shook her head as to release herself from a trance.

Yanking the apron off her waist, she sponged up the blood while giving him tiny bows.

“I-I’m sorry! Really sorry! I-I didn’t notice you were a—If I knew, I'd never—”

“You looked at me…”

“Huh…?”

Her voice softened, and to Yuichiro’s bewilderment, she surveyed him once more.

The scent wafting from the tile was indistinguishable, and yet, not once did his appetite stir.

Nor for her own blood, undoubtedly warm and pumping through her veins.

“How are you doing that!? I couldn’t look at vampires this closely! Ever!”

She forced her lips into a nervous grin.

“Uh… erm—”

“C’mon! Help me out! If you can stare at me, then that means—”

“Wait, wait!”

In an awkward gesture, she waved her palms before her face, and out of her pocket came a folded sheet of paper.

Yuichiro tilted his head as she read off its print.

“Can’t… understand!”

“Understand what?”

His question earned an exasperated sigh, and she tapped her fingers on her forehead.

“Geez, hold on!”

She ran an index finger across the sheet and, having discovered whatever sentence she needed, cried at last:

“A ha! Can’t… understand… Latin! Know…” She snuck another peek. “Not? Little!”

Yuichiro batted his eyelashes.

Chess, Lacus, every vampire who had threatened his life that one morning… none of them showed they had spoken out of their native tongue.

They wouldn’t have greeted Mikaela in his language, nor would Crowley address an entire congregation of vampires.

“Mr. Vampire?”

“Have I been speaking Latin this whole time!? How the hell do I turn it off!? How does it turn off!?”

At his spectacle, she offered an apologetic shrug.

“Oh…”

He squeezed his eyes shut, recalled every argument with Kimizuki, his gossip sessions with Narumi, the times he’d laugh with Yoichi or played pranks with Mitsuba…

“… How ‘bout now?”

The servant’s face lit up, and when she gave an animated nod, he squeezed her hands.

“Thank you! Thank you so much! I—” He paused, and realization dawned on his face. “That’s right! I need to find…”

What would he even call his sire? Not that obnoxious mouthful with which everyone else addressed him.

What’d he name him at some point?

“… Mika! I gotta find Mika.”

“Who’s Mi—”

He released her hands from captivity and dashed toward the prince’s bedroom.

“Hey! Hold on!”

The young woman, a considerable distance from where he stood in seconds, rushed to approach him.

To his further surprise, after catching her breath, she thrust out her palm in greeting.

“Akane! Akane… Iida!” She gasped, “Wanna be friends!?”

“What!? Why!?”

Regardless of whether she could tolerate his presence, what good came from befriending a vampire?

Having guessed his inquiry, she snagged his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.

“Because…” Akane replied with a reaffirming, almost sullen laugh.

“You’re the first vampire I’ve seen who isn’t scary.”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Yuichiro Ariadust lived as a splendid novelty, an apparition who surpassed any other in the Illustrious estate.

And she decided she liked him.

On the back of such anguish, of his body’s cruel promise that his companionship with humans met an end indefinite, the speed at which he discovered a ‘friend’ almost embarrassed him.

Magnifying its hilarity was her resemblance to those he held dear. The contours of her face, from her slender chin to her plump cheeks, reminded him of Yoichi.

Her unabashed mannerisms, Kimizuki.

The ponytail sweeping over her shoulder, Mitsuba.

The universe giggled at him—cast his plight into nothing.

In tandem with the faintest heartbeat, his face regained the slightest warmth, and at last, he returned the squeeze of her hand.

“… Okay. Yuichiro.” He said with perplexing softness. “Good to meet you.”

“Splendid!”

His greeting was a key unlocking her restraint, and the smile before him transformed into a sparkling, nearly mischievous grin. She jumped to throw a friendly arm around his shoulder, and Yuichiro felt her trembling against his frame to remain there.

“In exchange for being my friend, I’ll help you find Mika!”

“Huh!?”

“How else would I return the favor? It’s all I know about you.”

“Oh… right.”

To argue was futile. His name and search for Mikaela were all that kept them from being complete strangers.

And yet, she required nothing else to assist him.

Flattering; refreshing even.

But still.

“Humans shouldn’t meddle into vampire affairs!”

So long as it kept her safe, he’d brandish himself with that identity. Such an act guaranteed she’d come across his ‘kind,’ and he refused to expose her to a threat of that magnitude.

“Isn’t it natural I’d run into a vampire?” She asked, possessing Ferid’s mind-reading ability.

Or maybe he was that easy to read.

“I’m their maid.”

“…”

Yes.

It was.

She had a delivery before he crashed into her.

“Aw, worried about me? It’ll be fine!”

An apron stickied with blood returned to her waist, and she played with her reflection.

“Once I—“ She poured an invisible kettle— “warm up my specialty, your buddy will rush right over!”

“How do you make a specialty with blood?”

“By age and gender of course. Geh heh heh!”

“Don’t say that like it’s obvious!”

And why did she laugh like an old man?

“So, let’s start with this Mika’s appearance. What features should I be looking for?”

Despite the lavish molds surrounding each window, sculptures of cherubim who raise crystals thrice their size to the ceiling, and the stories of acrylic oil nestled in gold leaf, all bewildering to the human eye, to find an example took seconds.

He pointed inches from her head.

In the depths of an arch hung a massive portrait of Prince Illustrious. Its palette resembled a twilight sky. He slumbered upside down in a bed of white roses, and stray blooms surrounded his frame.

“That.”

Akane raised her brows.

She turned between Yuichiro and it, it and Yuichiro. When she never received an ‘I’m kidding’ or ‘No, not that. More to the left,’ a quick bark of laughter burst through her throat.

“Whaaaaaaat!? Prince Mikaela ‘Octavus Sator’ Illustrious!? He’s your missing friend!?”

“H-Hold it! I never said we were friends!”

To confirm his person of interest should’ve dropped the term at once.

“I have a question for him! Nothing more!”

Arms crossed, Akane lifted her chin with the air of catching him in a lie, and Yuichiro, the defendant to her prosecutor, mimicked this stance.

“You called him ‘Mika.’”

“Yeah? His real name’s too long.”

A gleam of deviltry flashed in her eyes, he countered with a glare of his own, and the atmosphere bent around their unrelenting gazes.

Better to deescalate before the whole universe slipped out of place.

“That’s how it is, so accept it, Miss Akane—!”

“You’re perfect!”

Her compliment rendered his carefully crafted rebuttals worthless.

Shifted the entire battle in her favor.

Reserving his serious tone for the fun of it, he demanded she explain.

She replied, grave yet playful, with, “I’ve also had a heart-exploding, spine-tingling fascination with the prince.”

“Interest! I said ‘interest!’”

What a strong re-wording.

“The first reason is a secret, but the second calls for a partner. Maybe you can help me—”

“No way in hell!”

The promptness of his refusal startled him, but those very words graced his ears the Sunday he ‘passed away.’

“I’m not getting involved in anyone’s crazy schemes!”

Akane gasped as though he slapped her in front of God and country.

“But it’ll be fun!”

“Find someone else!”

“But I helped you!” She grasped the only straw at her disposal. “I found your Mika!”

“Did not! And leave out the ‘your!’”

They’d graduated from friendship to ownership.

How vulgar.

Had she no sense of linguistic boundaries?

Her answer was a drawn-out whine, and she fled to Yuichiro’s arm to squeeze it.

“But I would have! Because… because family takes care of family! And we’re family!”

“Humph. So that’s what you’re using now?”

“Did it work?”

“Apologize!”

Averse to yet another stare-down, he gestured to the dried, red sea housing ceramic fragments. That he focused on their banter instead of blood filled him with gratitude.

“Weren’t you going to deliver that? You should get a refill.”

“Ah, you’re right.”

Yuichiro propped a hand on his hip. “See? You have work to do!”

Rather than conceding, however, the teacup’s disembodied handle swung from her pinkie finger.

“Not only are we friends,” She taunted, “You owe me.”

When Akane opened the doors to one of the Illustrious’ many balconies, a marvel of nature awaited Yuichiro’s newfound vision. Not since Mikaela turned him had he been outside, and the view captivated him unlike any sight indoors.

Bathed in the lustrous gold of the evening, circling a fountain centerpiece stood a structure of shrubbery akin to a maze. Hydrangea, larkspur, and finely trimmed bushes shaped the queen’s silhouette with the haunting accuracy of a statue. Her carnation-filled palms stretched to the neighboring complex, a symbol of granting them a world free of hardship.

Akane bounced from the darkness of the balcony’s shade and leaned over the banister far enough for her toes to rise.

A breeze cool and fragrant traveled between her fingers. A dreamy sigh passed her lips.

“That feels so nice! I always forget how stuffy those rooms are!”

From the wavelengths of light to the flow of air, the moisture, the temperature… never had it looked so remarkable.

“I don’t get it,” Yuichiro said once the initial shock relinquished him, “What’re we doing out here—“

He sank to his knees the moment he walked forward.

“Yuichiro! What’s wrong!? Are you thirsty!?”

The dining maids presented him that question countless times, but the level of sincerity, that worry with a tinge of affection, hit differently.

How quickly she had made an exception for him.

If Guren’s dichotomy for people rung true, she was a remedy in every sense of the word.

“It’s nasty out here,“ He groaned, ”Why is it so…”

The sky he spent hours consuming betrayed him with an oppressive snare. Lava had taken the atmosphere, meshed and melted its hues, and all life beneath it quivered under its heat. The water enveloping the fountain didn’t glimmer so much as catch fire.

Human instinct advised him to fan himself, to wipe the sweat gathering on his brow, but neither applied anymore.

To shrivel and burn was all he could do.

“… Bright,” He finished at last.

“Hm? But it’s sunset—Right! Okay!”

After a thousand apologies and a vow to wash his feet with her hair (which he promptly rejected), she ushered him to the balcony’s shadiest, sunless corner.

“We’ll stay in this spot. No need to move. Just take a good look over there!”

Yuichiro obeyed, and before the human estate was a group carrying violins, accordions, and flutes. A couple balanced black forest cakes and butterscotch pies in their arms. Children in teams of three held elongated bundles of marigolds and lanterns, leaving behind a stream of petals to blow along the grass.

They were a picture of he and Kimizuki in childhood who, earning Narumi’s wrath, sparred with their decorations until they dropped into the soggy mud.

“Those flowers…”

“Bingo!” Akane said, giving him a thumbs up. “It’s the day before the End of Midsummer festival!”

Yuichiro blinked.

Two things surprised him—that he’d forgotten his beloved holiday in entirety, and the duration he’d shut himself up in his chamber.

If so, the date was, without a doubt:

14 August 1867

Now he knew.

He deprived himself of blood for three days.

“The spirits are most active tonight and tomorrow! This is our chance to confirm their existence!”

To change the subject, or rather, to turn to the matter at hand, Yuichiro asked: “And what’s this have to do with Mika?”

Akane drew back her neck like he brought up a topic dangerous and taboo.

Wasn’t their conversation Mikaela-centric the whole time?

“… Promise you’ll keep this between us?”

“Who would I tell?”

He didn’t have friends.

They returned to the splendorous hall, and after a final glare over the shoulder, she shrouded them with a window’s drape.

“The other day, my friend Chihiro got picked to bring the prince refreshments before he returned from his bath. Big honor. Very rare.”

Yuichiro nodded.

“On the way… she crossed this dark, creepy place! And guess what? Flowers covered the entire floor!”

“You mean those white lilies?”

“... So you’ve discovered it.”

He knocked the wind from her sails, and Akane expelled a sigh. Nevertheless, she strove to maintain air of mystery.

“But you should know they’re not lilies!”

“What are they…?”

Lacking adequate sunlight to propel their growth, to attribute their lives to an anomaly not only made sense, but was the most reasonable explanation.

“They’re…”

“Yeah?”

“Poet’s daffodils!”

“…… So?”

“So!?” Akane tugged the cuff of his shirt. “Haven’t you heard the legend of those!? With a lady being lured by a cluster of bright narcissus flowers and being pulled to the underworld!?”

To some extent. Or, to express his knowledge in Guren’s terms, he skimmed a few sentences from Yoichi’s translation.

Despite his new fluency, recollecting such texts were useless.

If he didn’t know it before, he didn’t now.

“Uh-huh. What’s your point?”

“They’re dead bodies!” She refused to let a millisecond of silence take place. “Probably tons! For each flower! He drinks a human dry and—and their souls turn into them!”

“That’s a hell of a conclusion to make!”

“No it isn’t!” She cried, the two ruining the whole purpose of their hiding spot. “Rumor has it, people have gone missing in this estate! And they ventured off in the left-wing—Hey!”

She and Yuichiro stood meters apart by the time she finished her sentence.

“Where are you going!?

He replied with a half shrug, “Where do you think? I’m asking Mika what the deal is with that flower garden.”

“Whaaat!? But why!?”

“You said you wanted to figure it out!”

Akane huffed forward and linked their arms.

“Ugh, you vampires are so literal! You have no appreciation for a ghost story!”

Regardless of how hard she pulled, he wouldn’t budge, which only reinforced the courtesy Ferid offered as he rose from the dining table that night.

He couldn’t wait to drive a sword in his head.

“It’s more fun when you investigate it yourself! Don’t you want to meet somebody?”

“I have to go too!?”

“Well duh! If they show up, we’ll defeat them together!” She flexed her arm. “Our combined strength should be enough!”

“I think you should worry more about getting caught.”

Her attempt to push him with her weight failed, so she jumped back and poked his chest instead.

“You’re the prince’s friend! It’ll be okay!”

“I told you, we’re not friends—”

“And I’ll be your best friend! Forever! I promise!”

Yuichiro’s expression hardened.

Part of him knew better. But his need for companionship—along with the dreary boredom and vague restlessness that awaited him should he return to vampire society—crumbled his resolve.

“ One ghost and then we’re leaving—”

Cutting off his agreement was a full assault to his rib cage, for Akane leapt from the floor and threw her arms around his neck.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” She squealed, dangling off him. “You won’t regret it!”

“Isn’t that phrase bad luck in this scenario!?”

Tucked behind her ear was a pen, and she disheveled her ponytail upon yanking it.

“Meet me at this time, and we’ll go explore!”

She scribbled into his palm and ran off before saying goodbye.

‘18:30’ trailed along his ring finger, and a crudely drawn smile adorned his thumb.

“That’s 10 minutes from now…”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Akane’s every other step down the hallway was a dance. At times, she’d glimpse at them in the mirror, grin stretching to her ears, and attempted to fling herself at him again.

Yuichiro caught her mid-stumble when she missed her aim.

“Look at us! Exploring in the dead of night!”

He glanced out the window. The remaining sunlight burning the clouds’ edges made him wince, affirming their presence with no room for doubt.

“But the sun’s still up.”

“Play along, will you?” She scoffed, twirling out of his grasp. “You expect me to wait ‘till it’s dark?”

“You really are scared!”

“We’ll have too many witnesses that late, anyway! Vampires roam all over… it’s totally creepy!”

“Are you sure your ghost isn’t a vampire then?”

Akane stopped.

Narrowing her eyes at Yuichiro, she surveyed his body from top to toe.

Her silent scrutiny endured for so long he shielded his chest, his midsection, wherever her gaze drifted.

“What…?”

“… So, vampires can just… not speak Latin?”

Yuichiro rubbed his chin.

Whether he spoke from his native tongue or a bloodsucker’s, in his ears there was no distinction. Instinct, a metaphysical mutation of the brain, powered his language, with no active effort on his part.

“Ah… guess so.”

“Tch.”

She sucked her teeth.

Posture wilted, her playful glare carried the slightest glimmer of sincerity.

“I wasted hours slaving over Latin because of your kind, and I’ve wasted my life. You’ve angered me for the rest of the day.”

“Is it that serious!?”

Furthermore, her level of fluency didn’t justify the phrase ‘slaved.’

“You’re right, that’s not accurate.” She pursed her lips. “I’d say I’ll be cross for 1,000 years. As long as you’re living, I’ll be angry. And since you’re immortal, my corpse will frown until the very end.”

“Guren!?”

“Guren?”

“Nothing…”

She had more in common with his family than he realized.

“So why haven’t I met you before?” Akane asked, having dumped her icy facade. She walked backward, miming the hands resting behind his head until her arms tired out.

“I’ve fed every vampire in the estate! Or I think I have. I can’t stare at them too much.”

“Then how do you tell them apart?”

“Their hips!”

He wouldn’t dignify that with a response.

To save himself from pity or follow-up-questions crossed Yuichiro’s mind for only a second. But evasion tactics, he decided, might worsen his sense of loneliness.

If Akane provided the opportunity to open up, he wouldn’t reject her.

“… Because I turned not too long ago.”

Mouth agape and eyes sparkling, she received his confession like a gift.

“You’re a newborn!?”

The phrasing caught Yuichiro off guard, but he answered, “You could say that…”

Tenderness softened her smile, and she skipped over to tilt his chin toward their reflection.

“So that’s it.”

“What’s it…?”

“Those green eyes of yours… they’re lovely, so I figured there had to be something special about you.”

She moved his head up and down to impart her confidence.

“Maybe that’s why you’re not scary!”

No.

His image petrified humans since the morning he turned. The maids he encountered solidified his ability to torment their nerves.

But he kept that to himself.

For the person who extended her friendship without reluctance, he’d let her hold that impression.

All because she liked his face.

“Maybe…” He affirmed under his breath, his hope a ghost rising in his breast.

“Here it is…”

Standing before them was a vast breadth of darkness, a hollowing backdrop for daffodils and glass. Yuichiro took a stride forward and, emboldened through vampirism, peered straight into the void. He checked for a corner of a wall, a ceiling, anything to verify his surroundings wasn’t the never-ending portal promised to him by the Baron’s Illustrious painting.

“It’s no use,” He said, squinting. “I still can’t make out—what!?”

Hmming and hawing, Akane made a noncommittal return to the grandeur of the familiar hall. Her toe skirted the horizon between reality and the room escaping logic.

“M-Maybe you should take a step out first! Check if it’s safe!”

Despite Yuichiro’s rolled eyes, a thought passed that he’d sink in quicksand as soon as he plunged into—in the garden.

Nonsense. If the flowers stood there, he had little to worry about.

And just as he suspected, all that resulted from his landing were bent stems and crunching leaves.

“C’mon!” He challenged, “What’re you waiting for?”

After prolonged hesitance, Akane dragged her feet down the aisle, and like a child stalling a bath, poised her foot above the heralds of spring.

“What if it only steals humans… and you’re protected because you’re not? Look, they’re spreading, aren’t they? I didn’t notice that plot a second ago—“

“Enough already!”

The two shared a yelp—hers because he hoisted her on his shoulder, his because she was lighter than air. He swung her with the ease of a mere bag. He could throw her kilometers away with a flick of his wrist.

“Better?” He said with a slight stammer.

Akane shuffled, tested her support. When satisfied, she smirked and brought his head under her chest.

“Go, my trusty steed!”

“Do not call me that.”

Thus, they ventured out in the sea of dazzling white petals, and nothing of significance occurred for, in Yuichiro’s perspective, millions of hours.

“Okay… I think it’s realistic to say there’s no ghost.”

“A bit longer! I beg you!”

“We’ve been out here forever!”

“A little further is all I ask!”

When she felt herself slide from his grasp, she added, “I’ll show you the secret snack cellar only for select vampires!”

“You started that for them!?”

“For training! So I could look at them! They still freak me out, but some know my name!”

She really was strange.

With a sigh of defeat, he propped her up and earned a small squeal of delight.

“Where should I stop?”

“Hmm… until those flowers over there!”

“… They all look the same—”

His next step tethered him where he stood. The textures beneath his foot transformed from the tenderness of soil to the grittiness of sediment. His toe scratched along his foreign surface.

“What is it?”

“The ground felt weird…”

“Maybe you discovered something! Push the daffodils out of the way!”

“Got it.”

They remained in place, however. No matter how hard he kicked, their stability was that of a tree stump. Narry a petal shifted.

He looked over his unoccupied shoulder, and to his surprise, his trodden path of daffodils disappeared.

“… Hold on tight.”

He kneeled, and the ‘dirt’ from which they grew was free of roots. Instead rested layers of gray, jagged with the dimmest gleam.

“Looks like a rock.”

Akane, interest having consumed her paranoia, left his shoulder and set to work excavating with him. They spread the flowers until they could grasp what lied under them.

“That’s strange… they shouldn’t be growing out of—”

Their sudden discovery stole her voice. The ‘assortment of rocks’ bore intricate patterns of human design. Lettered indentions were chiseled into its face.

“It’s…”

A rotting tombstone.

Weathering formed lighter splotches of mineral, and a black film of decomposed clay betrayed impossible rain damage.

When he came across a name too worn to distinguish, a sudden breeze racked his frame and swelled it with remorse. A chill tainted his insides, herded him below, and rendered him immobile.

“Yuichiro…?”

Foreign, unidentifiable pain gouged the pit of his stomach.

“Why are you crying…?”

He raised his head, and the same mysterious tears fell down her cheeks. No sorrow twisted her features. Her body simply mirrored Yuichiro’s.

A drawn out breath filled his ears, a sound he hadn’t encountered prior. The ‘wall’s’ make-up evaded him, but a primal instinct, a raw dread, warned them something had moved.

What followed was thoughtless self-preservation.

Yuichiro didn’t think a word, processed nothing.

With the speed of a bloodsucker and the desperation of a mortal, he sprinted with Akane under his arm.

Their shouts echoed through the corridor.

With his sire in mind, Yuichiro leapt through the grand foyer, the dining hall filled with leftover blood glasses whose freshness he knew by the second, and burst into the maids’ kitchen.

He shoved empty bowls and anticoagulant off the table, cake pans and medical gloves, and turned Akane into its centerpiece. Should the darkness slither from the garden and snatch her by the ankle, he kept her feet from veering off the edge.

“… That was a giant gravestone. Huge. There’s no denying it,” She murmured at last, filling the silence with sounds other than catching her breath.

“Sorry!”

Yuichiro hopped from the adjacent chair to the bunched up table cloth beside her.

“It’s my fault! I should’ve talked you out of it—”

“Hooray!”

Her outburst nearly sent him to the floor, and so tight was her handshake that he didn’t know when he’d get it back.

“We did it! And it’s all because of you! This’ll be a great midsummer festival!”

She cheered. Moments after their treacherous encounter with the unknown.

That was just the kind of woman she was.

“Glad to hear it…”

An understated gloominess colored his reply, which she detected the second he spoke.

“What’s wrong?” She urged with an affectionate little squeeze.

“I—” His voice cracked. “This will be my first ceremony alone.”

To take part in celebration was so divorced from the Amane couple’s life that holidays were akin to myths and legends.

All his joys came after Guren saved him.

Akane sank into deep thought.

“… Can I have your full name?”

Right.

She hadn’t requested it until then.

“Yuichiro Ariadust,” He answered with a sigh.

“The head of the Imperial Order’s son!?”

The weight Guren’s name carried ceased to surprise him, but her astonishment warmed his cheeks all the same.

“Yeah… that’s him.”

Her next words were more careful. She inched closer, lowered her voice despite their privacy.

“Does the marquis know you’re…?”

“He couldn’t,” Yuichiro admitted.

No satiated thirst promised a return home. At any moment, the lust for blood may douse his throat in flame, and should his family be the only humans present to smother it…

In addition, a progeny of Illustrious garnered the attention of various higher-ranked vampires.

His very existence attracted danger.

“I don’t think… I want him near me as a bloodsucker. But I miss him so much.“

At this, Akane gave an understanding nod and kicked the rest of the kitchenware off of the table.

“What are you doing!?” Yuichiro cried amidst the clanging metal and shattering glass.

“I’m no marquis,” she replied, “but here goes nothing!”

“Huh?”

“Yuichiro Ariadust!”

She fanned the hem of her skirt to her wingspan and curtsied in the fashion of vampires before their prince.

“I hereby invite you to be my plus one at the midsummer festival!”

Restraining every impulse screaming for his consent, he asked instead, “Are you sure I can go!?”

“Maybe not eat and drink, but igniting a lantern will be fine!”

His gaze dropped to the kettle punted beneath the unused spice rack.

“… You’d do that for me?”

Akane swayed his wrists, laughed at him wondering the obvious.

“Of course! ‘Family takes care of family.’”

Dumbfounded, Yuichiro surveyed her person long enough to assume rejection, for she amended her invitation with bashful rambling.

“A-Anyway, it’s okay to say no! I won’t—“

But then his laughter filled the room, clutching his side and wiping an invisible tear from his eye out of habit.

“Thanks, Akane,” He said softly, resting his hand on a shoulder that felt like home.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

The distinction of life and death between the respective estates astounded him as he voyaged toward the festival. Void of any being in need of light, the remaining vampires wandered in utter darkness, indifferent to the eye-searing flare of color meager steps away.

He dared not cross through their home. He traversed on the side of the estate—a journey finished in seconds—until he reached an extensive patio brimming with nostalgic celebration.

Those decorated with flowers in their hats and dresses, sewn into their paper fans, gleamed beneath the starry lanterns hanging above them. Couples sat by the lakeside and chatted, wine bleeding from their teeth when they grinned. They watched early rowers sanctify the water with salt.

Others engorged in feasts around the tables furnished to their edge with hot cider and succulent meat. The melodies of violins, clarinets, flutes, and accordions lifted every age to their feet to waltz with clumsiness or grace, romance or friendship, telling their stories with their bodies.

Not a soul noticed the bloodsucker with a merciful face.

“Yuichiro! You made it!”

Akane’s stride forward was a balancing act. Clutching two lanterns of bamboo, she tucked long matches, votive candles, and markers under her arms.

“You invited me!” He answered with a tender laugh.

Thus, the two wandered to a vacant corner of the lake. Theirs would be the earliest ‘welcoming fire’ to guide their deceased loved ones, a preference, he assumed, to protect their interaction from the neighboring residents.

Supplies spread across the grass, Akane gifted him her second lantern.

“This is for you! A thousands-of-years old vampire should have lots of friends to see off.”

Yuichiro smirked.

Recent vampirism aside, a single name adorned his lantern since he was twelve.

That he no longer recalled his biological parents’ didn’t hurt as it once did. He embraced the love that made such details unimportant.

“Who’s Sakae Ariadust?”

“That’s Guren’s dad!”

He enlivened his grandfather’s memorial and let the currents cradle his memory.

“I never knew my real grandpa, but I didn’t need to when…”

The plethora of names on Akane’s interrupted his thoughts. Its surfaces bore ten, twenty, wedged beside each other.

“Why do you have so many!?”

“They’re the lives I learned about this year!”

She waved it before him, double-checked her spelling, then surrendered it to the flowing waters.

“I guess it’s silly, but I always look for people who might’ve been forgotten. Such an old place must have witnessed a lot of deaths. I’d hate if we left them behind.”

“So that’s why you wanted to explore Mika’s flowerbed…?”

Akane nodded.

“If they stayed a rumor, nobody would make sure they found the afterlife!”

Whether living or dead mattered little to her.

If she could help those she found deserving, she did.

That she was his first friend at the Illustrious residence swelled his heart with contentment.

“That, and…”

She crimsoned a little and played with the gloves in her lap.

“Remember when I mentioned there’s another reason the prince interested me?”

“The secret?”

“Yeah…” She muttered, and after a deep breath confessed, “I’m in love with him.”

“Oh that’s nice… What!? Mika!? Why Mika!?”

“I pity him so much that I love him!” She laughed, “He’s not lovable in any other sense.”

“He’s not lovable in that one! Besides, can you really call that love!?”

Akane shrugged.

“Who cares about the source? It feels real.”

Unless he received a thorough reworking of his existence, to associate the word ‘pitiful’ with Mikaela Illustrious seemed out of the question. Perhaps if he loathed being a monster with the power to rip off limbs with a meaty crunch or command a full room with no effort.

The role befitted him, and he didn’t appear to dislike it.

“… What’s there to feel sorry for?”

“How do I explain it…?” She held the tip of her chin. “Whenever I stare at him, it feels… incorrect.”

Yuichiro frowned. “Like bad?”

“No… like he’s not supposed to be what he is.”

“What else would he be?”

Her gaze drifted toward their lanterns, but when it appeared she wasn’t collecting her thoughts, instead losing them to a trance, Yuichiro tugged on her sleeve.

“Akane?”

“Oh! Sorry, I zonked out for a second.” She relaxed her posture with a gratified stretch. “Anyway, I guess that’s why he looks so miserable to me. But who knows?”

She poked the center of his cheek.

“Maybe I think he should be more… you! Human!”

“Hrm.”

‘Human’ suited him less than ‘pitiful.’ He was too unthinking, unfeeling.

What relationship could he sustain?

Eager to know what future she imagined for them, he asked, “So… you want to be the princess or something?”

“Heavens, no! Are you insane!?”

“You just told me you loved him!”

“And!? You can love someone with all your heart and still want nothing to do with them! I’m a human! I have more shame and self-preservation than you bloodsuckers ever will!”

“Hey! Don’t lump Mika and I together! We have nothing in common!”

They did from a biological context.

But he refused to wrap his mind around it.

What a weird woman.

“Anyway, my friend Chihiro and I make up stories so I could tolerate the sight of him. We said he tended to those flowers and mourned whoever rested beneath them. It’s rubbish, but people overheard us and believed it.“

“You wouldn’t correct them?”

“That’d be mean! It’s easier on their hearts if they do.”

Yuichiro crossed his arms.

“Isn’t that bad? They’re not facing the facts.”

“What benefit would the truth bring?” Akane said with a dismissive wave of a match.

“If you’re desperate enough, you can believe or deny the reality of anything. Aren’t people amazing that way?”

He made no answer, for the crackling of a star brought his gaze skyward. Fireworks outshined the stars. In a typical child’s fashion, he feared them in his youth for their explosive volume. Guren curled up with him against the window sill so he could watch their beauty in safety.

Akane pulled him from reverie with a pat on the thigh.

“Well, whoever they buried there should be at peace. You’re a hero!”

“Akaaaane! We’re going to tell ghost stories without you!”

Running toward them was a girl lanky and mousy, pushing up her glasses with her wrist to keep the cake in her hands.

“Just a moment, Chihiro!”

“Is that your friend!? Hi, Akane’s friend! Come with us!”

“Won’t you!?“ Akane asked, jumping to her feet.

Yuichiro briefly cupped the back of his neck. “Nah. S’okay. You go ahead.”

“But…”

He plastered a smile on his face to unravel whatever narrative her worries spun. He’d return knowing that loneliness evaded him. That his eyes adjusted to the dark.

“Yeah. Thanks for this.”

Satisfied, and after prolonged silence, she offered an unnecessary hand to help him stand.

“See you again?”

“You bet!”

She never took her eyes off him until a meager half-step segregated her and Chihiro.

He hoped his family prepared to do the same.

Upon returning to the garden of Queen Illustrious, a disembodied voice called out and jolted him upright.

“Fashionably late, aren’t we?”

A mysterious woman stood amidst the shadows. Hints of her identity, a prayer of golden curls, a height rivaling his caretaker’s, and the unusual brilliance of her teeth, as though she commanded where the moonlight touched, were all he discerned.

Nothing had startled him since he became a vampire. How did she avoid his instinct?

“It’s not your fault. I’m happy to see you.”

He took a guarded step forward.

“Who’re you…?”

“Welcome back, Yuichiro Ichinose.”

She plucked a rose from the shrubbery and granted a single arm exposure.

“Have a present!”

“Answer me. How do you know Guren’s former name?”

“Hm? Ah, my apologies. It’s Ariadust now.”

Her offering fell to the ground, trampled under a shoe and replaced with a carnation of dazzling white.

Posture stiff and unrelenting, Yuichiro pressed further.

“Are you friends with him?”

“No. I just know everything about you.”

When he kept silent, she maintained this statement with alarming, unshakable confidence.

“Everything. There’s nothing about you I don’t know.”

“Why should I believe you?”

She displayed a wide grin, highlighted the unique visibility of her mouth.

“Your teacher’s coming. Until next time.”

“Liar! Get over here—!”

“There you are!”

Crowley approached the fountain acting as the queen’s ‘heart’ with ever-present serenity. He peered at the glimmers of celebration and ruffled Yuichiro’s hair with the same airy, patronizing chuckle.

“What are you doing out here? Have you forgotten you’re a vampire?”

“Stupid! How could I forget!?” He jabbed his finger beside him. “Some weirdo’s over there!”

“What weirdo?”

Beside him was a random segment of grass. Not even the casualty under the stranger’s foot marked her earlier presence.

“She’s gone…?”

“Shame.”

“… Wait a sec,” Yuichiro added, observing his ‘teacher.’ “Why are you here?”

“To engage in my vampire midsummer festival!”

The melody of Ferid’s voice, coupled with his kindling lanterns, evoked the disgust of meddling with a sacred event. Perhaps that was the intent, and the idea brightened the smile stretching his lips.

“His idea,” Crowley said, earning a nod of approval.

“Gathered.”

“Yuichiro! How did you know our festivities took place here?”

Mikaela trailing behind him made sense, despite its rarity. Such schemes would never capture his interest.

Seconds passed before he acknowledged Yuichiro’s stare as usual.

Or perhaps he looked through him.

“I don’t understand,” Crowley voiced, “What’s the point of this?”

His answer came in Ferid placing a lantern in everyone’s hands.

“We shouldn’t fraternize with humans, so I organized our own! For you, and you, and here you are, my master.”

Mikaela gave his closest gesture of curiosity (that is, he tilted his head a fraction), and accepted it in silence.

Tossing his own like a ball, Crowley asked, “How does this work?”

“I’m certain our most recent human can teach us this game!”

“Uh…”

To delve into the spiritual complexities wasted his time and theirs, so he chose a more reductive explanation.

“You write the name of your loved ones who died, then you set it along the water.”

Though he gestured toward the lake, Crowley shrugged and dropped it onto the fountain.

“Done.”

“That won’t do!” Ferid cried, “Where are your former comrades’ names?”

“You honestly think I’d remember? It’s been 800-odd years.”

“Ahaha! I suppose you’re right.”

Yuichiro rolled his eyes.

For what it was worth, Mikaela’s remained in hand. It appeared even the most straightforward of invitations wouldn’t drive him to participate.

How did the conversation that brought him outside go?

In any case, herein lied his window of opportunity.

He inched next to him step by step.

“Hey. Mika.”

To return his eye contact was the sole proof Mikaela listened, and Yuichiro surmised his perplexity into a single question.

“Why did you save me?”

“Did I?”

“… Your blood,” He pointed out with caution. “I asked you to kill me, but you let me drink from you and helped me live.”

When he received no reply, he stressed his inquiry further.

“Why did you do that?”

“Such thoughts never entered my head, Yuichiro Ariadust.”

“……”

Akane was right.

The human residents gave him way, way too much credit.

Speaking of which.

“Those flowers in front of your room… what’s with those? Did you plant them?”

“No.”

“Okay…”

Interviewing Mikaela was the equivalent of pulling teeth.

“Then who did?”

“My servant.”

Of course. Ferid had the authority to start any project in the estate. Excessive interior decoration wasn’t divorced from his behavior.

But what created those impenetrable walls? What provided that artificial wind?

“Figures!” Yuichiro laughed with forced enthusiasm, “But—and this is silly—did you hear there’s a rumor that someone’s buried under there? Or many? That’s ridiculous, isn’t it? Haha—”

“There is.”

“Ha…”

He confirmed it in the same manner he stated anything else, but what a creepy use of that tone.

“Who!?”

“An identity escapes me. I only learned of its presence.”

‘Its.’

Good to know his position on humans hadn’t changed.

Akane and Chihiro owed their friends an apology.

With that, Mikaela abandoned him to break Ferid and Crowley’s discussion.

“Ferid Bathory.”

“Yes?”

Was he going to ask for him?

“Return to my chamber.”

Oh.

“And if I refuse?” He skipped toward Yuichiro and held him by the waist. “If I stay with my dear new friend?”

His servant, without question, couldn’t get away with—

“Then I return alone.”

He kept walking.

Furthermore, he didn’t even look at him when he replied.

Ferid ran after him, however.

“You couldn’t say you would miss me? Just this once?” He fake-whined as he returned to his side.

He bowed upon catching up and, once more, lied in wait within his shadow.

“Strange duo, aren’t they?” Crowley chuckled, blowing out the candle in Yuichiro’s lantern.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

19 August 1867

For the next few days, Yuichiro braced himself for a burning chest, limbs aching, for a hint of abuse his body bestowed for rejecting its strongest desire. But there he sat before a glass of what his instincts adored, calling him to devour, and narry a shiver attacked.

A maid visibly relaxed when she addressed him, lingered as if to take refuge from the others. His tongue didn’t sting while he watched the vampires surrounding him quench their thirst.

What happened? How could a single feeding from Mikaela sustain him like this?

“Newbie! Still not drinking?”

A slim pair of arms stretched past him, a feeble pretense for moving toward what she desired. Her fingers encircled its rim.

“No problem! I’ll take it off your hands!”

“Go for it, Chess.”

“You’re the best!”

Chess downed his serving in one swallow and smacked the base of his chair.

“I can always count on you!”

Weird.

To be sure, blood kept its unearthly appeal, despite, as he called it, his half-assed humanity. Sometimes he’d let out a deep moan at its presence. But that need, the craving that barred him from home, was but a mere throb in the hollow of his throat.

“You’re leaving!? But it’s lunchtime!” She cried the moment he stood.

“Going for a walk! I’m bored!”

He took leave for the sole activity at his disposal when Akane fed the vampires: exploration.

No sooner than he left, however, did he stumble upon an undesirable companion.

He stepped up his pace, rushed to the opposite side, but a finger hooked the back of his ribbon.

“Well if it isn’t Yuichiro Ariadust!” Ferid sang. “What a surprise to meet you in the vampire estate!”

“I live here.”

Ignoring his reply, his nuisance said, “You’re just the person I was looking for!”

“Uh huh.” Yuichiro made a show of searching beside and behind him. “Where’s Mika? Doesn’t he have an order for you or something?”

“With the queen, I’m afraid. I’m very lonesome.”

“Sorry to hear that. Later—”

“Won’t you dine with me?”

“No thanks!” He slapped his extended hand. I—”

“Marvelous!”

Wrist stolen, Ferid dragged him in the opposite direction of his stroll.

“I said no!”

“Come along, the hot pot will get cold!”

Despite his protest, the two ventured further than Yuichiro ever had, crossed rooms he’d never seen, and Ferid at last released him when they met a towering staircase that lead, as far as he could discern, nowhere. Compared to the expansive chambers Illustrious often presented, what awaited above was enclosed, a narrowed spine.

“What the…”

“Here it is! My special place! Not even my master knows about it!”

Yuichiro narrowed his eyes.

“… I still don’t get why we have to—hey!”

After one glimpse at the wall, Ferid’s laughter already carried from above, lost to an infinite spiral of steps reflecting Arcanu’s mouth.

“How’d you get up so fast!?”

After an endless chase in the dark, his destination was yet another bizarre hallway.

Crimson doors uncanny in their likeness framed his every step, from the splinters in their worn finish to the pearly light flooding through their cracks.

An ornate bench stood before each, propping the same sign of an arrow pointing forward.

“Ferid…?”

They guided his movement until he happened upon an entrance in the center. Paint damp and curdled formed the ‘Welcome, Yuichiro!’ on the floor.

“Yeah. This is a set-up.”

He scoffed at the familiar giggle echoing into the hall.

But to his surprise, not a waft of blood struck him when he passed the threshold.

A paper theater with a rich ‘Budapest eclectic’ design, with decadent columns, velvety stage curtains, and a drawn orchestra on the bottom, basked in a mysterious spotlight on the table. Captivated audiences loomed from the booths, and its signature dome matched the original opera house’s.

Sorting his figurines in the manner of playing cards, he gestured to a nearby chair undoubtedly for him.

Yuichiro thew a suspicious glare as he approached his seat.

“… This isn’t lunch,” He noted, running his fingers on a gleaming table cloth.

“Forgive my lie, but you told me we’d never play together.”

Next to his theater, paper dolls in varied poses were organized by character, each simplistic in design. A princess with hair to her ankles, a prince whose smile shone like the sun, and a queen in black.

“I wish to perform a little story of mine.”

“Why?” was all Yuichiro managed as a response.

For an eccentric monster such as he, with the power to gratify himself however and with whoever he saw fit, why create stories when his own life had such malleability?

“The most trivial and unproductive human activities are the most fascinating, yes?”

Ah.

With that in mind, it suited him to an irritating degree.

“… What are you up to?”

“Is it that unthinkable I have a hobby?” He asked, checking how well the prince fit through ‘stage left.’

Yuichiro held up the princesses. “Let me guess. I’m supposed to be her?”

“Please.”

He parted his lips to protest, but once again stayed out of sheer boredom prevention.

Would this, he thought, develop into the driving force for his every action?

Was he sitting across a monster whose cruelties were born out of desperation for fun?

Consoled with the rationale he was killing time before Akane could play, he mumbled, “All right. Make it quick.”

Ferid grinned.

“Once upon a time, there lived a charming young boy.”

At this, his puppet jumped up and down in his hand.

“He was loved and exalted, yet his family, so overwhelmed with jealousy, sold him to the queen of the black moon.”

He shifted the curtain of felt and revealed an angry monarch painted in the backdrop. A chamber of cardboard accompanied the prince, along with several faces. Some shed tears of joy. Others raised their hands in praise.

“Despite her cruel conditions, the boy experienced love there as well. Especially with a pretty maiden.” Ferid waved at Yuichiro. “That’s you.”

“Oh… Which?”

“They’re numbered for your convenience.”

As promised, he slipped a girl with ‘1’ marked on her dress past stage right. Where the prince had a puzzle’s tab, she had a pocket, and they created a hug when joined.

“They gave each other their hearts. But the queen, furious her captive was more cherished than she, put an evil curse on him.

Having split from her embrace, Ferid swapped his present model for a boy masked in darkness, with a face coated in ink.

“It converted him into the prince of the black moon. He became an intolerable sight with a fatal touch. When he visited the young maiden, he hid himself in the shadows.”

He tapped Yuichiro’s foot from beneath the table.

“Grab number two and say, ‘Come out, I need you.”

“… Come out. I need you.”

“Hey! You can say it with more energy than—”

“No.”

“… The prince declined, but so devoted was the maiden, she vowed to care for their bond even if she couldn’t look at or touch him. His voice was all she needed for eternity. She revived his heart anew, and miracles flourished for them and others.”

In contrast, the third prince bore a pocket, she the tab, and where they met was a kiss.

A taller iteration of the queen descended from a puppet’s string.

“Sick with envy once more, she cast the maiden into a deathly slumber. Take your next doll.”

Yuichiro’s last puppet was not the maiden alone but the prince holding her in his arms.

The prison became a bedroom.

“In the middle of the night,” Ferid continued, “she brought the sleeping maiden swathed in blankets to the prince. Unaware of her identity, he touched the mysterious figure and killed her. There! Exit the stage, please.”

The last piece standing was the prince hunched on his knees and sobbing.

“What do you think so far? Be honest!”

Yuichiro shoved his dolls to the floor. “It’s awful! That’s not a good story!”

“Is that so!”

“Duh! Nothing good happened!”

With a laugh Ferid departed from their game. He clasped a draw string hanging from the ceiling—a stark replica to his theater’s.

“My apologies if you didn’t enjoy it, but it can’t be helped.”

Two sets of curtains lifted in unison to unveil a larger performance. Theirs was the only source of sunlight flooding into a room bare of ordinary furniture but whose walls were littered with paintings.

“It’s based on a true story.”

Yuichiro arose from his seat.

“This is…”

“A second activity of mine! Feel free to look around!” Ferid pointed at the upper-left corner. “I recommend starting there.”

He walked past him without a word, and the initial image both mesmerized and bewildered him.

Surrounded by several other kids stood a boy of cherubic beauty, with feathery hair of gold and rosy lips. Thoughtful, blue eyes betrayed a perceptiveness well beyond his age, for he was no older than twelve. His smile emanated such charm that beholding it alone embraced him. He held a younger child’s hand, who pressed his palm against his cheek in reverence.

Wherever they lived couldn’t have been the Illustrious estate. The environment befitted that of an old cellar, furnished with little but tables and chairs of moldering wood, thin blankets, and meager candlelight.

From his long lashes to the dainty curve of his nose, his appearance was a ghastly contradiction of the familiar and the surreal.

“… Mika used to be human?”

“You like it? I composed that from memory. I retouch them every fifty years.”

Yuichiro didn’t have to stare at him, for his voice carried his wry smirk.

“Memories fade with ease when you have the gift of time, but we can remember things like yesterday should we make the effort.”

“When…” He swallowed, reaching for the illustration with an irrational hope it’d impart its history.

His hand wilted to his side.

“Did I paint that?” Ferid finished with glee. “My master’s human days were—Why, half a millennium ago!”

What he discovered next froze his thoughts and tightened his chest.

He must’ve been fed a lie.

If the illustration surpassed a century in age, depicted Mikaela’s long lost humanity…

“How…”

How was he staring at himself?

A second boy, a flawless mirror of himself in childhood, led ‘Mikaela’s’ hand to his mouth, kissed the knuckle of his middle finger. In another, their foreheads met, speaking words he’d never know. Painting after painting of embraces on their knees, nuzzling into each other for warmth, sharing laughs, reading together, nurturing children, crescendoed into a picture exceeding the others in size.

A framed photograph on Guren’s desk informed him they were 16 at most.

What worsened the storm in his stomach, however, was the manner in which Mikaela cradled his arms, inching toward an impending kiss.

They embodied the prince and maiden’s second puppet.

“This isn’t funny…” Yuichiro said, trembling.

“You did this after I arrived—”

“Ahaha! I may be a vampire, but even I can’t manage such a feat.”

His justification shattered.

Nineteen images hung before him of exquisite detail, and he had yet to examine one-fourth of them.

Dread knotting his throat, he kept his detour to the largest pieces.

Krul ‘Tertius Sator’ Illustrious relaxed on a lavish throne, and she smoothed the hair clinging to a sickly Mikaela’s brow. His head rested upon her knee, and the slightest hint of fangs peered past his bloodied lips.

Her grin was of a woman satisfied with a completed project.

“That’s not my favorite,” Ferid commented, and a futile hope surged within Yuichiro that he, too, found her pride disgusting.

He didn’t.

“A vampire makes for a duller portrait. Less emotion to capture.”

He’d discarded his paper theater in entirety to revel in his artwork’s reception.

Upon the third, everything slowly, tragically, pieced together.

His doppelgänger soothed Mikaela, donned in the regalia he’d always seen, from behind the bars of their childhood cell to step forward from the shadows. Smile tender, he extended his hand. The kiss between Mikaela and ‘himself’ beside it bore exact likeness to the third set of puppets.

The beloved boy.

The queen of the black moon.

The maiden.

If Mikaela’s story finished the same way…

“Then…”

He felt Ferid’s grin on his back, but his mind purged everything but seeking a nightmarish image. His examination ended quick, for it monopolized the entire rear wall.

In the heart of a prison more bleak than the other, Mikaela screamed, gripping the corpse of the boy who shared his face. Ages now equal, he gawked at his present body drained and mutilated, neck bloody with puncture wounds and nails scratches to his shoulder blades.

The blood amassed on Mikaela’s mouth and chin unveiled the meaning of ‘the prince’s deadly touch.’

Plunged into vampirism’s greatest agony, he understood his head-splitting grief to the crimson pools spilling over his cheeks. The desperation to ease the pain. The ghost of that torture trailed down his tongue and stung his eyes.

“Our story isn’t complete,” Ferid said, “Won’t you accompany me again?”

Yuichiro shook his head. His fingers traced along the sorrow twisting Mikaela’s features.

“He… He lost his family…”

“In any case, allow me to continue.”

The mere suggestion of drinking Guren’s blood wrenched his heart with shame and revulsion. Such a betrayal would torment him without mercy.

At least donations preserved his life.

This…

“He couldn’t help it,” Ferid broke in, affirming his dread. “The prince craved another’s touch to the verge of lunacy. He forgot himself. The queen had shut him away for an unbearable month—”

“She starved him…?”

The mind-breaking misery of thirst commanded he charged the first body he smelled. Voiceless, asleep, that ‘him’ couldn’t resist or rouse him to his senses.

Krul Illustrious had set up a scenario crueler than homicide.

“Not a moment passed where he didn’t apologize to the lifeless maiden. Her corpse never left him until the queen of the black moon barged into his confinement.”

To Yuichiro’s horror, the ruler of Sanguinem did the same. While Krul displayed his family’s rotting carcass in the fashion of presenting a coat, her sneer radiant, Mikaela hunched forward and sobbed. A puddle of blood collected under his eyes, and he clawed his midriff in the hopes he’d remove his family’s life from within him.

Ferid continued.

“‘Look at her. How she decomposes,’ said the queen. ‘You foolish child. Didn’t anyone tell you a human being isn’t a home?’”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Mikaela ‘Octavus Sator’ Illustrious destroyed himself in increments, increments that dug the rot out of his heart and left it desolate.

His family quenched his thirst for three miserable days. His lovesickness, his endless grief, his regret—each as insignificant to his body as the blood’s source. He still craved it, lusted for it to a pitiful extent.

For one month he lived in a ghastly prison cell. The occasional glass slipped through a door slot was his sole connection to the ‘outside’ world.

Ferid indulged in the sight whenever he delivered blood.

Soiled with his lover’s decay, Mikaela tormented himself.

Berated his failure without end.

And then he quit.

He drank until he forgot every mortal and vampire, hope and disappointment, thought and emotion. Everything that kept the memories alive.

Burdens dissolved like Yuichiro’s taste on his palette.

“With that, we've concluded the intermission!” Ferid announced in a long-awaited punchline's fashion. “Forgive the departure from my story, but I couldn’t share my favorite details had I stayed within it!”

A whimsical sigh left his lips. Fear of repetition restrained him from painting each moment, so he settled on a time lapsing project: his muse leaned against the wall, tears staining his face, stare comatose until, bit by bit, he erased the sorrow in his features. Dried blood with an unbeknownst origin flaked off his chin and mouth.

“What fun I had back then! It’s rare I can consume such a gradual descent into madness.”

”He...”

“He’s matured into quite the beauty, hasn’t he? Well, my performance awaits!”

The deathly stillness of Yuichiro's stare captured every trace of Ferid’s every stir, from sweeping aside the puppet’s bangs to his crossed legs displacing the table cloth.

“The prince’s heart was but a shadow when the queen at last set him free.” He dropped his prince face-first into a tub made of splintered wood, which paper servants encircled by a string.

“The stench of the maiden’s corpse followed his every stride; thus, they drew him a special bath—”

In an act too swift for his mind to follow, Yuichiro’s knuckles collided with the bone cradling Ferid’s eye. He catapulted beneath the windows where torturous sunlight gleamed, and to his dismay, this, not his unrestrained blow, brought a quiver to his frame. As the eerie, alabaster mask of his skin smoothed over, his smile never looked brighter.

“Upon my word!” He cried, tucking a stray lock behind his ear. “Whatever is the matter?”

“You…” Yuichiro’s voice cracked under the weight of his hostility. The room spun. “You let him lose his family… the most important thing anybody can have… and you didn’t do anything to stop it!?”

He shoved the paper theatre off the table and crushed it as though it’d reclaim Mikaela’s life. His heel ripped apart its crisply folded edges. Columns fell. The orchestra segregated from the audience. The dome caved inward and demolished its fresco ceilings.

“Please, consider my circumstances. Her Majesty would have my head if I—”

“Shut up!”

His skull returned to the carpet with a rattling slam. Yuichiro tackled him and seized a fistful of his ascot, and though the sunlight unleashed a torrent of pins and needles against his skin, punches flailed against his nose, chest, and forehead. But Ferid healed himself quicker than he inflicted pain, and he levied his laughter like poison.

No matter how hard he struck, the only permanent damage in the room belonged to Mikaela Illustrious.

“Have you quelled your aggression?” He asked, prying Yuichiro’s hand from his neck.

‘Family,’ his mind repeated ad nauseam, ‘Mika was his family.’ He lost him—lost him like the little pulse in which he’d found great comfort. His fingers curled beneath his jaw, searching; his voice, just above a whisper. A long, inaudible sigh preceded his answer.

“Why did you show me this…?”

“You were so hateful towards my master! I wanted you to say, ‘serves him right!’ from the bottom of your heart—”

“Don’t touch me!”

Manicured fingers brushed against his cheek, and Yuichiro found himself tucked in the furthest corner of the room.

“I didn’t…”

Sandwiched between two frames, hints of his decayed fingers dangled beneath Queen Illustrious’s arm like tassels.

“I didn’t know…”

His words became a knot hopeless to unravel.

Leave.

He had to leave.

But just as Yuichiro lurched toward the exit, his gaze halted to a painting burned into his psyche.

Framed in oak, darker than black.

Labelled with grandiose calligraphy.

Housed in the Baron’s parlor and countless other nobles.

The dregs of Mikaela Illustrious stared at a foreign tragedy across the room, with eyes not barren of a soul but stripped of one.

Their family portrait no longer struck him with horror.

“He gave up…”

It creeped him out.

“Her Majesty’s pride and joy,” Ferid pointed out, “January 27th, the date she gained her darling little son.”

He never noticed Mikaela resting a stiff, no doubt instructed, hand on the queen's shoulder. Nor had he noticed the particularly gruesome glow of her countenance.

How many times had he looked at that picture without truly seeing it?

“You’re sick…”

“Am I wrong? Did you pity him instead?”

Yuichiro knew the attraction of giving up on life—its impassioned solemnity at the tender age of seven. The comfort of having nothing left. He begged for his demise at Mikaela’s feet when that longing for self-destruction ate him alive.

“No.”

“Ahaha! No one would blame you—”

"I don't need to."

In the years Guren Ariadust became his home, he never pursued the details of Yuichiro’s hardships. His parents, his abandonment, he refused to offer his condolences. All because…

“Because I’m saving him.”

He became a remedy in his life.

“Such willingness! What of your aversion for my master moments ago?”

“I didn’t know who he was,” He retorted, unfazed.

“And who is he?”

“Family.”

An off-color subtlety lurked within the depths of Ferid’s laugh. A motive unreadable. Information withheld.

Adjusting the scalloped edges of his tablecloth, he asked, “What of your caretaker? Have you forgotten him?”

Yuichiro shook his head. “Without Mika, I would‘ve lost the chance to see him again. It’s only fair to help him out. Then we’ll both save Guren.”

“I assure you, vampirism is no cause for gratitude. He stole your humanity, your right to die.”

“I don’t care.”

“How swiftly you change your tone! Is this designation of yours that powerful?”

“Yeah. You never abandon family.”

If their bond was strong enough for Mikaela to throw his heart away, then it could revitalize it.

“As far as I’m concerned, he’s being held hostage here. So I’m rescuing him, too.”

Ferid closed the drapes and diminished the sun’s extinguishing flare.

“I expected as much. However…”

Having violated Yuichiro’s space in a single leap, he gave a bare section of the wall a firm slap. Silver strands swayed between their faces as he loomed above.

“I must warn you of the burden you'll possess. The ‘you’ my master once adored no longer exists, and the Mikaela ‘you’ loved is less than a memory—”

He evaded an uppercut to the jaw.

“Quit going on about stuff that doesn’t mean anything! We’re not ‘gone!’ We’re right here!”

That tender condescension destroyed the last of Yuichiro’s patience. He smacked a painting off the wall, stormed out the room, and made a sharp pivot seconds later.

“And tell me where he is!”

“The marble hall is far from here,” Ferid said with a polite bow, “Allow me to be your guide.”

Nothing exposed Mikaela’s numbness to the world than his master-servant walking formation. Ferid’s was a hair-raising energy that engulfed the back of his skull and clawed at his heels. He turned his head past glassy reflections to avoid gazing upon the devil in his shadow. Vampiric and human instinct alike, however, demanded he steal glances behind him, to ready himself for a sword through the vertebra.

Thousands of years wouldn’t be enough to endure it.

“Your sire awaits.”

The announcement unclouded Yuichiro’s thoughts, and he raced into the marble hall’s pocket-sized chamber.

Mikaela sat on an embroidered bench of rosewood. In the tradition of many luxurious, isolated rooms in the Illustrious estate, three surrounding mirages of its monarch guided its color scheme. On each she relaxed on a bed of roses, her eyes betraying more exuberance than her progeny.

“Mika!”

The moment he rose, Yuichiro snatched his wrists and drew him into his chest.

“I’m sorry…” He muttered tearfully, “I’m so sorry you were all by yourself.”

“What are you doing?” Mikaela asked.

His voice, free of the slightest annoyance, only tightened his embrace.

Countless more apologies fell from his lips. Had he seen Akane, Chess, Lacus, he would have clung to them the same—so badly did he need a ‘living’ being after immersing himself in Ferid’s gallery.

But it overjoyed him, relieved him with such pain, that person was him.

“I’m so sorry…”

Mikaela’s nails burrowing into his stomach flashed through his mind’s eye, and he cradled the back of his head.

“Everything’s okay now, see!? I’m here! Why or how, I’m not sure, b-but I’m with you again! We can…”

Without his bumbling promises, Mikaela’s silence grew heavy, dense, as though it’d suffocate all around him.

He pulled back, and there to greet him was his usual, unrelenting gaze.

“You don’t…” His fingers wilted from his shoulders. “You don’t recognize me?”

“I do, Yuichiro Ariadust. We conversed days ago.”

Not a step measured their distance before Yuichiro gripped his forearm.

“No! I’m not letting you go with him!”

“But he’s my wonderful master! Shouldn’t I remain by his side?” Ferid asked, draping his arms around Mikaela.

“Don’t you dare speak for him! Mika, he has a gigantic room with pictures of you and me! Where you were a human, and we were family, and… and you drank me dry! But you didn’t mean to! It was…”

Why did Mikaela stare at him like that?

“It was his fault! The queen’s fault! They betrayed you!”

The way he did Ferid, the vampire residents, or anyone else?

“If you stay with them, you’ll only get hurt again! That’s why we need…”

Immutable. Unmoving. Without a hint of consideration.

He stared as if he hadn’t an inkling what he meant.

“To stick together…”

Mikaela freed himself from both their grasps, and Ferid, after casting a sidelong, toothy grin, trailed behind his centuries-long companion.

“Come, Bastya ‘Sextus Sator’ Irclu awaits. Oh, how I dread our meetings! He addresses me with the rudest remarks, asking when I will pass! Will you fight for me?”

Alone and humiliated, Yuichiro stood forsaken as his idle chatter drifted into the hall.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

When Akane offered him ‘a secluded spot to mull over things,’ her stony cellar for underhanded blood donations hadn’t come to mind. Nor did he expect such a place to don a rather conspicuous window, vast enough to observe an entire garden.

Though in hindsight, he should have.

“For you, Lord René! Thanks for your business!”

A zeal to reclaim his friend’s attention wracked through Yuichiro in waves. The longer he waited, the further he sank into his chair, swapped which fist supported his cheek, and shortened the gap between his intermittent groans.

“What’s this?” Her patron replied.

Dangling from his two fingers were Akane’s ‘tickets’—drawings whose wet ink stained his gloves. Besides the instruction manuals necessary for her practice, she’d replaced every book in vampiric vernacular with colored paper, pens, paste, and frill Yuichiro had seen on the headpieces of another maid.

“Your special access passes! I made them myself!”

“Oh. It doesn’t resemble me.”

Made sense. Despite her commitment to ‘vampire-gaze’ training, her efforts had only come so far.

“It’s my style!”

Good save.

“I see…”

Her fraternization with vampires became quite the spectacle, but he himself loosened up in the presence of blood.

What mattered is how one approached them here, he guessed.

Full glass in hand and with a flagrant disregard for his ‘sparring buddy’ who sat meters away, Lacus swiped the ticket from above his friend’s shoulder.

“Oh wow, ‘Lord René!’”

How the neglect of a vampire he cared so little for grated so much, he didn’t know.

“It really captures your essence! Notice how flat it is?”

He couldn’t understand…

“Are you trying to pick a fight?”

Expecting Mikaela to shift from his present condition with ease may have been short-sighted.

“Aw, is it that bad?”

But if Ferid’s story was genuine…

“No, no! It’s splendid, human—”

“If I’m who Ferid says I am, why didn’t he remember me!?”

His verbal conclusion garnered the undivided attention of the trio, but before any unideal party delved into his heart, Akane fled to the door at once.

“Come back anytime—urk—after a couple hours! And outside allotted meals!”

Her clumsy attempts at giving Yuichiro space culminated in eye-contact with Lacus.

“Th-Thank you for coming, my lords!”

Her chest heaved, her hand trembled against the latch, and she wilted to the floor the moment her patrons took leave.

“Akane? Do you need help—”

“I beg you, don’t ask me such a thing!” She yelled into her folded arms.

“I was careless! I won’t add to your suffering! You’re vulnerable right now! Too vulnerable! One more source of undue mental stress and I’m sure I’ll destroy you!”

“…”

Yeah. She was the same as ever.

The two sat in silence before her meek voice floated from the floor.

“... You okay, Yuichir oAraidust? I’d hate to make you upset.”

“That’s my line. And why did you say my name weird?”

“Sorry, 90 percent of my power went to keeping composure, so I lost all my language skills.”

“Everything was fine but my name!”

“How’s t his, Yui chir oAriadus^t?”

“That’s even worse!”

A jump to her feet betrayed an athleticism he’d yet to witness from her, and she dragged a nearby chair close enough to pat his fist.

“Still thinking about Prince Illustrious?”

To secure the levity he desperately needed from his companion, he kept the details of how Mikaela lost his family at their vaguest: their bond was close, the queen turned him, and they’d met an unfortunate end outside their control.

Yuichiro forced a smile. “N-No, let’s not go over it again. I’m fine! It’s…”

Then smacked his forehead against the table.

“Come on. Tell me,” Akane said, twirling the stray lock on the crown of his head. He swatted her hand away.

“I already did.”

“I wouldn’t mind a fifth time. Don’t they say, ‘to recite a poem once, you must teach it fifty-seven thousand times?’”

“Who says that!?”

Yuichiro raised his head, chin nestled on the table’s dry rot.

“Anyway, Mika’s the one I should talk to. But that stupid Ferid’s been keeping me from him!”

Akane repeated her reassurance from the last four grievances.

“Maybe you never noticed how busy they are. He is an Illustrious!”

“He’s their puppet,” Yuichiro corrected bitterly.

She mimicked his drawn out breath. As she digested his remark, however, an undercover delight flashed in her eyes.

“Well…” A faint rosiness warmed her cheeks when their eyes met. “I suppose… this means we have similar tastes.”

“Huh? You don’t suck blood.”

As though his retort were utterly inconceivable, she clutched her chest and cried, “I meant Prince Illustrious!”

“Don’t act so offended! How should I know!?”

“You didn’t think about it!? Even a little!?”

“No!? Why would I!?”

“Because you were lovers!”

“Love…” Yuichiro frowned, diverting his gaze to a burning lamp.

The word snagged something in his brain, but the more he pursued it, the more elusive it became. Regardless, whatever sentiments he held, Akane loved him out of pity. Their respective feelings couldn’t be more divorced.

To care about Mikaela in her fashion would be the same as giving up on him.

“Here’s an idea!” She cried (attempting to change the subject), “Why don’t you take Lord Ferid’s job? Then you’ll spend lots of time with him!”

“No way! He clings on him just to spite me! How does Mika even put up with that!?”

“For a time, to which one can adapt, Yuichiro.”

“Pardon?”

The rosiness swept across her cheeks intensified.

“Erm, I said…” Akane began, dwelling on each syllable with a choked laugh. She wiped down an invisible stain with her sleeve. “You can get used to anything with time.”

Did she speak Latin a moment ago?

No wonder it sounded botched.

“Point is!” she started again, pontificating more than normal.

He almost wished he discerned it.

“You learned of his past today! But they’ve been together forever! Bet that’s why he didn’t believe you!”

Yuichiro blinked.

Its simplicity bordered on dreadful. As much as it burned him with disgust, Ferid and Krul were his ‘family.’

How could he infringe on his home as if he knew everything?

But he had to.

“Now what…?”

“You keep fighting! Come on, show me a smile—”

But as the command left her lips, color drained from her face drained. With a slow intake of uneven breath, she reached for Yuichiro’s forearm as though he’d disappear.

“What is it!? What’s wrong—”

“My lantern…”

She peered at him from beneath her lashes.

“The grave… that was yours, wasn’t it…?”

Yuichiro slowly retracted his sheltered hand. The daffodils, the ghostly tears they shed, that longing sigh in the air…

Giving life to his own thoughts, she whispered, “How do you even exist…?”

A lull distressing and awkward settled between them, during which the murmur of far-off speech drifted from the window.

Despite its distance, its plummy undertones had a clarity equal to their own voices.

“Your ears are twitching!”

“You don’t hear that?”

“Hear what?”

He jumped from his chair, leaned against the window sill, and stood on his toes to discover his latest fixation.

Two stories below, Mikaela relaxed in a yew tree’s bountiful shade. Its arms extended past a wall of shrubbery, shielding vampires from the side-entrance to the garden. The mass of foliage exhaled the damp scent of the earth below whenever the winds passed through.

His servant stood before a koi pond, holding Mikaela’s mouth open and signature ivory brush in his other hand.

“Damn it…! I knew he’d be breathing down his neck!”

“Is that the prince!?” Akane whispered, “What are they saying!?”

“Shh!”

Yuichiro focused his senses.

Having polished his teeth, he left a thumb to run across his bottom lip.

“Exquisite. Your hollow fangs are growing in! We’ll need to make arrangements soon.”

Yuichiro searched for something unusual in Mikaela’s line of sight, a trace of restlessness, but his heart sank when waterlogged sticks along the pond’s edge were all he found.

“Autumn is my favorite time of year! Our side of the Earth reeling from the sun’s touch, longer company with the moon, the leaves. And lest we forget, your birthday celebration!”

When he received no response, he lifted Mikaela’s fingers and lied, “Your gloves are getting dirty. This white is quite bothersome, wouldn’t you agree?”

He rounded the bench and fetched a chest lurking beneath a shrub of lady’s palm.

“I was saving this surprise for December, but I can’t bear to hide things from you!”

Mikaela’s focus departed from the floating leaves once Ferid ungloved his hands.

“These are just what you need!”

He displayed his ‘gift’ and smoldered Yuichiro with resentment: a pair of gloves whose color shared the blue of their recipient’s mortal eyes.

An insult in a language he couldn’t understand.

Kneeling, Ferid dressed him with a brisk nod. “Did I ever tell you I painted portraits? I haven’t used this shade in years, but it’s very dear to me. Does it remind you of anything?”

“The sky.”

At this, Ferid deepened the gentle malice of his smile. “Yes. It’s a perfect day out. For me, it betokens centuries long past.”

He rose, and Yuichiro’s hawkish stare tracked his fingers as they reached Mikaela’s neck.

“Can you remember that far?”

“Yes. I lived in my old room.”

Another throaty laugh, and he lowered his overcoat’s hood, followed by the golden insignia fastening his undershirt.

“Further. Anything else you recall?”

“Yuichiro, what’s happening?” Akane hissed.

“Shh!”

“Don’t ‘shh’ me! Where do you think you’re going!? Get down from there!”

Mikaela made no answer.

“No need to worry, my master,” Ferid assured, parting the locks that hid the nape of Mikaela’s neck.

“What does your humanity matter? In any case…”

His lips poised near a vein Yuichiro knew intimately.

“Your blood is as irresistible as ever—”

“You bastard! Get away from Mika!”

“Yuichiro, no! Stop!”

By the time Akane’s wail met his ears, he’d already leapt from the banister.

“Ah—”

And his entire being burst into flames.

The fire roared over his screams, his voice unrecognizable as his body transformed into a comet in free-fall. Its inferno didn’t spread upon his collapse; rather, it piled onto him like snow.

His cells regenerated anew, leaving no opportunity for his nerves to incinerate. The pain was perpetual and unbearably fresh. The charred smell, his skin ripping apart as the fat beneath added fuel to the flames, the ash coating his tongue—his woefully intact brain brought him to his father. His mother’s cracking bones as she held him against her chest. His tears dried before they fell.

It hurt.

It hurt.

Everything hurt.

“Peeping, Yuichiro dear? Have you no shame?” Ferid asked. His words stood prominent against the crackle and hiss of his own flesh.

When the slightest pressure seized his wrist, he thrashed forward with meager strength, which earned him a grip that could’ve pulled his arm from his socket. An object cool and metallic slid down his middle finger, and as sudden as the flames devoured his body, so did they vanish without a trace.

The bees’ mellow hums and tinkling of wind chimes returned. Stepping stones hidden in the prickling grass traced along his spine.

“What…?”

His eyes condensed from their melted slurry, and above him, dressing his finger with another ring stood Mikaela Illustrious. Beneath his incinerated gloves appeared a spotless hand, revealing the lavish collection from which he drew them. Upon the second, they dimmed the sensation of the sun scrubbing him from the world.

“Mika!” He sat on his knees and looked for scarlet smears or bite marks on his neck. “Where is he!? Did he drink your blood—”

“You are very reckless,” Mikaela observed.

“Forget about that! Are you hurt—”

Bundles of cloth soft and white shrouded his person, sheer enough to see Mikaela deserted him without his usual overcoat.

Yuichiro readied himself to follow, but a breeze with the tang of ozone before a storm blew away the charred remains of his clothing.

A new burn spread across his face, and he retreated into Mikaela’s philanthropy.

“You coulda said something!” He yelped from afar.

Dainty snickers graced his ears from above, and Akane, leaning over his point of departure, waved with distinctly raised brows.

Her boisterous nod alone guaranteed she’d ridicule him at the first opportunity.

“Don’t you say a word,” He grumbled.

“Thank you for saving me from that terrible monster, my dearest progeny. I owe you my body and my life.”

In the flattened vocal styling of Mikaela, the bane of Yuichiro’s existence approached him with a tea kettle.

His frown darkened, and he tugged the heap of cloth closer to his chest.

“What was that?”

“I’m apologizing on my master’s behalf,” He answered, posturing a manicured hand on his hip. “One must always appreciate their liberators.”

“That’s not funny!”

“Indeed, such insolence is no laughing matter. But don’t fret. I gave him his due punishment.”

Such a promise exploded Yuichiro off his feet, but the Mikaela that met his eyes basked in the utmost tranquility. He laid a drink on his lap, one securing his lack of attention to the outside world. The soot from his tattered gloves were all that appeared out of place, and his open collar lay neater than before.

“Ahaha, it was only a joke. You’re such a delight to play with—”

"Leave Mika alone!" Yuichiro cried, and when his demand didn't wipe off his smirk, followed up with, "And stay away from his blood!"

"I assure you, I'm not a vampire of excess. Once every 70 years is sufficient."

"You shouldn't drink it ever!"

The eerie curvature of his adversary’s lips compelled Yuichiro to survey Mikaela once more. Arcanu had flown into the garden from a cracked open window, displacing the goldfinch resting on a tea set’s sugar bowl. Its eye bulged at him in the fashion of an unexpected and uninvited guest.

When his gawky cry of "Hey! Mika!" received no more than a stare two heartbeats long, Yuichiro's posture wilted.

"I wish he'd give up the act already," He groaned to himself.

"My master!? Act!? How could you make such cruel accusations—"

"Look at me!"

When fanning the cathedral drop of his cloak made it hover above the knee, he settled for a flustered display of his rings.

"A-At these! He can play dumb all he wants, but why would he do this if he didn't know who I was!”

“Such a charming gesture,” Ferid agreed, releasing a sigh professed and dreamy. “And to think, he requested your disposal less than a month ago!”

Yuichiro's eyes widened.

"Yeah! That too! If I could figure out what changed, maybe I'd have a better chance at saving him!"

"My, what a cute response. Perhaps that was his inspiration!"

"I'm being serious!"

"Your blood had a decadent scent as well. Any vampire would look after you for a sip!"

"That's not a compliment you—" He paused. "Hold on a sec. My blood..."

Mikaela changed him because 'he liked it'—a reason that, given the manner in which his servant appeased his appetite, didn't seem like much of a reason at all.

His fingers traced a stab wound long since healed.

"Before he…" He searched for the right words. "Forgot everything… it was the last thing he tasted. What if…"

The scent of his blood implanted a germ of consideration from the beginning? What else had compelled him to rest a mere human on his lap? His touch spoke a language no other part of himself did.

"Then I was starving, and all I did was cry for him to help me. And now…"

His eyes rested on the glare bouncing off Mikaela's rings.

Nothing.

The two scrutinized the details his very existence, and he still paid them no mind. With ears keener than his, he heard them beyond doubt.

Just how closed off was he?

"And why does he always ignore me the second I'm okay!?"

"Fascinating," Ferid broke in, "So you're saying there are hints of my master so faint, they require the worst of your suffering to awaken?"

A vast shadow engulfed the yard, and Yuichiro looked heavenward at another privilege Mikaela gave him. The clouds billowed, blossomed, and darkened with rain. Yet between the cracks of their backdrop was the crystal clear, radiant blue he'd fallen for since childhood. The resulting shade enveloped him like a blanket, and though the sun became his enemy, its brilliance still struck him with awe.

"Yeah… What!?" Yuichiro cried, yanking his head from the clouds.

"Where did you get that from!? That sucks!"

"Is that so?"

"Duh!" He waved his finger at Mikaela. "What am I supposed to do!? Put myself in danger every time I want his attention!?"

"That's quite the theory. Shall we try it out?"

"… Try what—"

"Make sure to dodge, okay?"

Yuichiro jumped back the moment a silver arc brandished the air before him, and his stinging ankle splattered over the grass.

"What the—You bastard! I don't—" He reeled from a slice gracing his ear. "I don't even—" His cheek tore and closed with equal speed.

"I don't have a weapon!"

"Precisely!"

Yuichiro retreated along the lawn striping, bunching up his cloak and uprooting soil Ferid's dainty footwork kept pristine.

"Crowley was right! You're getting stronger! A shame progenies are vastly inferior to their sires."

"Quit it! This isn't fair!"

His protests earned another pierce, another jab, another prod.

"Oh dear! My poor creation!" Ferid whined when a slash across the hip stained Mikaela's overcoat.

"It's getting so filthy!"

"Then stop slicing me open!"

"I can't, I'm afraid!" Joviality returned to his voice in less than a second, and he made a dance of sidestepping Yuichiro's blood.

"We need to make this convincing!"

"No we don't!"

Backward—he had to avoid running backward.

As his limb repaired, Yuichiro dove into the shade of birch trees lined across the garden's perimeter. A wooden swing hung from a branch, but Ferid caught his auxiliary weapon with a single hand.

"You can't be serious!"

"It's settled. I'll sew a better one," Ferid continued from his last thought, blocking a bench leg to the skull. "Why, I haven't designed in fifty years! How troublesome."

"Whose fault is that!?"

Yuichiro tripped over his own feet and missed another carve by mere inches.

"I'll get Crowley to fetch some silk tulle."

He held his chin, dicing him with the leisurely mindlessness of a household chore.

“Individual appliqués might be excessive. What do you think, Yuichiro—”

"I don't care!"

He leapt to an innocent plot of lilac, masking his ankles with their heavy cones.

"There! Try stabbing at my feet now—"

Ferid tossed his sword from his right hand to the left mid-sentence and backhanded him meters away.

"I agree! Ivory would be best. I fancy a champagne trim this time. Ah! What about hand-stitched crystal!? We'll start the project this evening!"

"Augh! Shut up! Shut up!"

High on the adrenaline of his legs surviving a perfect dismount, Yuichiro charged forward, balling his fist so tight his nails cut the skin.

His shred of morality screamed at him, begged him to run, but he'd be fine.

This time, he’d be fine.

“Too slow, Yuichiro dear!”

“Great!”

He flung his trembling body onto Ferid’s sword.

As it scraped against his ribs and plunged deep into his organs, he unravelled his fist, curled his fingers into a hook, and severed his opponent’s head clean off his neck.

“Ha! I win!” He screamed.

He returned to the blood-drenched grass and caught Ferid’s head before it touched the ground.

“Who’s ‘vastly inferior’ now!? Huh!?”

Yuichiro swung him by the ponytail, and the resulting groan, however feigned, bettered any song he ever heard.

“Disappointing,” He berated, “Humanity suited you best. You were lovelier as a simple, fragile creature.”

“Too bad! I’m not dying that easily!”

“Yes. You’re an extraordinary vampire.”

Ferid gave his closest approximation to a nod, and such an affirmation narrowed Yuichiro’s eyes.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re right. Vampires require more to die. Our only consolation is going mad and turning into demons. If we don’t, we’re subjected to the grueling aimlessness of our existence. But you…”

The slightest wistfulness lived in Ferid’s smile.

“You’ve recovered a sense of purpose. Your heart remains. No vampire gazes at the sky for pleasure.”

Averse to showing any gratitude, Yuichiro hardened his expression and said, “If I seem more human to you, it’s because of Mika. That’s why I—What the hell!?”

Ferid’s headless body frolicked toward him, sword in hand and neck spilling over clothes.

“Fear not! It only wants me! Would you be so kind as to—”

“Gross!”

Yuichiro gave it a sturdy toss, and the former caught like a ball.

“How can it still move!?”

“Never mind that.”

He offered a theatrical bow, for the show of his regeneration completed.

“Now, in exchange for your generosity, allow me to give you a tip for befriending my master.”

“You mean it!?”

“Ahaha! Have I captured your attention?”

Yes.

Yuichiro reeled as though teetering off a cliff. He forced himself still and stifled any enthusiasm in his voice.

“I just… can’t save him alone. I need more advice. So if you’re actually on my side, then tell me everything.”

“Such earnestness!” Ferid anchored a hand to his shoulder. “Come, I’ll lend you a secret.”

His lips were centimeters from his ear when he whispered:

“My master doesn’t feel any genuine worry or sympathy for you.”

“Hey! That’s not a tip!”

“It is! Giving himself to you is a chore,” He continued, rolling the gems hanging from the overcoat. “He'll do it without a thought in his head.”

Yuichiro crossed his arms, and a rather childish pout surfaced on his lips.

“How’s that supposed to help me”

“Because such a vampire is incapable of ‘acting.’”

“That’s…”

In other words, Mikaela’s justification was more of an assumption than a lie—one he had no reason to challenge, let alone question.

His task wasn’t as leisurely as forcing the truth out a deceiver.

“Here, let’s study his reaction! I’ve damaged you enough.”

Somber, Yuichiro forced his head to the side, and to his astonishment, Mikaela’s statuesque posture hadn’t shifted an inch since his last inspection.

“Really!?”

“Impressive!” said Ferid, “He must not have sensed my killing intent! Latrodectus intuition is unparalleled.”

“Don’t say that when you called him empty-headed!”

“You misunderstand! My master isn’t an idiot by any means, but he is ignorant. Anyone who relies solely on obedience and extinguishing threats would be. As an expert at 'pretense,' you know the difference, yes?”

His assurance came with the glee of rubbing salt in a wound, and the grin Yuichiro found grotesque returned.

“Or did you lose that skill when you turned?”

“‘Course I didn’t…”

“Then you understand, no matter your intentions, a Yuichiro who despises him and one who doesn’t is all the same.”

The scorn when he first turned impacted him as little as his embrace. As long as he was safe. Their relationship hit a dead-end.

“So how will you move forward?”

“I told you already.”

Still… He couldn’t run away.

“I haven't discouraged you?” Ferid asked, eyes boring into him as he retrieved his blade.

“You never will.”

"That’s all very well, Yuichiro."

For some minutes silence reigned over the garden.

Then Ferid threw his sword at Mikaela’s head.

“You—!”

The strength between sire and progeny differed an unworldly amount. Ferid said as much.

Any damage Yuichiro inflicted or avoided, Mikaela would execute it tenfold.

And yet—

“Hang on!”

He tackled him against the ground.

“Ngh… Are you hurt!?”

“No.”

Strewn against the grass, Mikaela’s expression kept an intense calmness, as if their actions didn’t surprise him in the least. His answer was soft and lacked the slightest intonation.

Disembodied clapping cut off Yuichiro's sigh of relief. The nuisance laughing over his shoulder mimicked his wave, and the sword, protruding from his back, obscured half his face.

“What a performance! Your hopeless heroism is so adorable!”

“Why did you do that!? He’s your— Whatever!” He shook his head, directing his attention to the family member beneath him.

“See what I mean!? Let’s get out of here… and…”

Mikaela’s downcast eyes, no doubt surveying his body, sent him flailing from their position.

That was, until the former anchored him with a mere grasp of his wrist.

“Be still.”

“Wa-Wait! I need to get up—”

With the force of his thumb, Ferid’s blade shot upright with surgical, painless precision. It tumbled into the little pond with a splash Mikaela treated as trivial as the ambush he received.

“Ah…”

But this, too, Yuichiro attributed little importance, for the blood seeping from Mikaela’s fingertips set his body ablaze.

‘Mika’s…’

His voracious gaze drew near his carotid artery. It called out to him, evoking a lustful ache in his fangs.

The air between them grew still.

‘I want it… it’s so good… I need to drink!’

Just as Yuichiro readied his lips to beg, the warmth coursing through his body, the ecstasy dousing his cells demanding he move, run with the lightness of a feather, returned.

He returned home. He could have wept. Embraced his sire. Shaken Ferid’s hand.

And then, it left.

Mikaela retracted his now clean fingers, his body fully repaired and his mind floating from its high.

“Have you finished your game, Ferid Bathory?”

“Game…?”

“Yes, my master!”

Ferid pulled Yuichiro to his feet by the scruff of his neck.

“You see, he’s familiar with my jokes and bluffs, unlike his perfervid little progeny watching from the banister.”

“You knew!?”

“The whole time!”

Their merciful collection of clouds freed the sun at last, illuminating the extent to which their game of keep-away damaged the yard.

“Shall we grab our parasols and head indoors? It’s dreadful out here.”

As Mikaela rose and took his servants’ hand, a tightening seized Yuichiro’s chest with an intensity he hadn’t known since he turned.

“No! You’re not separating us again—”

“Care to join us?”

Yuichiro batted his lashes at Ferid’s extended hand.

“Huh…?”

“Did you have another means to re-clothe yourself?”

“I… Mika! Do you want me to—”

“The progenitor council wishes to meet with him soon. They forbid anyone less than a sixth progenitor to enter,” Ferid laughed, erasing any need for Mikaela to respond.

‘He really is doing it on purpose!’

“But come, we’ll see him off and visit a salon of mine!”

Throb.

“Fine…”

Yuichiro dragged his feet behind them, dizzied and half-absorbed, as the taste of Mikaela’s blood sickened him with elation and grief.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

It was dinnertime.

As always, Ferid Bathory followed Mikaela from his room, to a series of long corridors, down the steps, and to the dining hall. Everyone bid a good evening to ‘Prince Mikaela Octavus Sator Illustrious’ when he entered.

‘Mikaela Illustrious’ meant him.

Yuichiro Ariadust also said hello, but his subjects seemed upset he addressed him. At first, he didn’t fully realize he was at the center of the excitement. Then they asked why he being so rude as to speak to him with familiarity. They threatened to put him out in the sun.

Yuichiro Ariadust said he only wanted to dine with him, and Mikaela didn’t mind, so he consented.

His subjects protested, but he stopped listening after that. Ferid Bathory reminded them of the rule to leave when it was his turn to drink, providing him an oasis of silence again.

When they reached his dining area, Yuichiro Ariadust looked pleased and said he wanted to speak with him for a while.

He asked why, just for something to say.

He talked about the story he mentioned in the marble room, but Mikaela already knew about it.

When he got his new room, Ferid Bathory gave him a storybook to read. It was about a prince and maiden. They were in love, and the queen made the prince kill the maiden on accident.

Yuichiro Ariadust spoke as if it had anything to do with them, but it didn’t.

He knew his first memories. He lived in a cell. Why or how he was there didn’t matter, and it wasn’t a disagreeable life. A servant fed him blood through a door. A little window stood above him where he watched the sky change color. Once he learned how to remember things, he’d fill his mind with the mingling clouds and how blood tasted.

There he met Ferid Bathory for the first time. He brought him to Krul Illustrious, who gave him a name and told him he had been in her palace.

When he asked if he could return to his room, they laughed and gave him his current one.

Life came to a standstill after that.

It was worthless to dwell on it.

Anyway, Yuichiro Ariadust said he would save him, but Mikaela didn’t know what he meant by that, so he didn’t respond.

His servant gave him blood, and he didn’t need anything besides that.

Soon his questions became tiring. He asked if Mikaela had turned him because he liked his blood. He said yes because it was true.

He liked blood. He looked forward to drinking it.

Every vampire did, so he didn’t understand why Yuichiro Ariadust appeared to doubt him.

He asked why Mikaela hadn’t asked for his blood then, something he denied him from drinking.

He reminded him as much.

Yuichiro Ariadust made a face he didn’t grasp and asked why that even mattered, but Mikaela couldn’t say.

He never gained the habit of introspection, and no one asked this much about his life before.

In a question easier than the last, he asked about his schedule—if meeting with progenitors and other guests was all he did.

It was.

He didn’t understand what else he would have to do. Krul Illustrious or Ferid Bathory did a lot of the talking, anyway.

He followed up with what he was doing tomorrow.

Urd Gaeles was coming for a visit, so he said so.

But then Yuichiro Ariadust said something strange: he wanted to join them.

And he wanted to be friends.

Mikaela only had a vague idea of what that meant, but Yuichiro Ariadust seemed adamant, and he didn’t mind having one.

They agreed to spend the next day together.

When he finished his glass, Ferid Bathory excused him as usual.

“Wait for me, Mika.”

Mikaela glanced back at him.

For the first time, Yuichiro Ariadust’s voice rang with distinguishable clarity.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Dearest Yuichiro Ariadust,

I request the pleasure of your company on the 23rd day of August at the hour of the setting sun. I pray the ink I spill on this page will embody the love I cannot articulate. Your invitation engulfed me in paradise. There is something between us, and it is the most beautiful thing I have ever experienced. To see your face is like drinking water after a lifetime in the desert. May our time spent culminate in mutual confessions of yearning, and I can hold you in my arms for all eternity.

Forever yours,

Mikaela ‘Octavus Sator’ Illustrious
“Whatever, Ferid.”Yuichiro balled the summons into his fist and shoved it into the pocket of his waistcoat.All he needed to meet with Mikaela was the promise he made at the dinner table.It mattered little if his starry-eyed ambition of bonding over a meal—filled with laconic answers and gazes empty of connection—fell short of his expectations.His optimism lived at the end of their meeting.He’d told Mikaela to wait for him, and in that moment, glimmers of curiosity colored the ever-serene apathy of his face.His name slipped into his sigh.A giddiness most unusual seized him whenever he entered Yuichiro’s thoughts, parroting the vestiges of afterglow in the wake of drinking his blood. His brain assumed a Pavlovian response, imprinted his image. Mikaela was more than a vampire. He was now a promise titillating his every bloodsucking nerve.At times, he allowed himself to indulge in the memory. With no other’s blood to besmirch his palette, he’d search for traces of Mikaela’s at the roof of his mouth, along his gums, under his tongue—He ran out of hallway.Awaiting his steps was one of the observation balconies above the grand foyer, gleaming beneath the treetop sized chandeliers. Faint mumbles had served as a base accompaniment to his thoughts, but not until then had he recognized it as a voice.Many voices.Albeit low and serene, resembling Mikaela’s cadence, none of them belonged to him.Yuichiro peered from the banister.“… What the heck!?”Pomposity and suits with embellishments tidied to a gleam congregated at the grand foyer. Their blood-chilling aura rose to Yuichiro’s face as though lifted by a strong breeze. From a bird’s-eye view, a group of vampires displayed an anomaly harder to spot among the crowd. Their postures were straight and still, their movements eerily clean like a choreographed ritual.Mikaela stood in the center, easy to find by virtue of his blinding white attire amidst the darkness of everyone else’s—“Ah!”He stared back.His sharp intuition detected Yuichiro from afar moments ago, that he was certain, but the speed of his acknowledgement alarmed his brain like prey to predator.Nevertheless, a basic command all but soothed his rattled nerves.“Come.”He could hardly contain his grin as he leapt off the balcony and landed atop the staircase.“What’s up, Mika!”But with his arrival came the death of all surrounding conversation.Each dreadful monolith turned in unison toward his direction, their stares the edge of a blade running across his skin.‘Relax,’ He thought, ‘You’re around vampires all the time! You’re one of them now!’“Hey, everyone!”Thus, his gauche descent into the crowd began. In an act he’d describe as masochistic interest, his gaze rested not on the safety of Mikaela but a vampire whose voyeuristic, clever face commanded his attention. His expression conveyed a motive incomprehensible yet all consuming, as though he drew the blood of victims with his stare alone or whatever secrets Yuichiro held were written on his cheeks. They didn’t lock eyes; he imprisoned them.Lost in the mental calculus of reading a face both sweet and sinister, Yuichiro lost the awareness necessary to avoid slamming into another vampire’s back.“Ow! Sorry about…”He craned his neck, and the victim of his absentmindedness turned his own with the unnerving flexibility of an owl. The lanterns above gave his flaxen hair and brown skin an effervescent glow. His aura, frigid enough to give Yuichiro’s spine frost-bite, however, stole whatever angelic impression he may have had.“… that.”Only the vampire’s irises shifted when he asked, “Illustrious. Who is this?”In a voice just as cold and regal, Mikaela answered, “He is my progeny, Urd Geales.”As though his claim needed a second opinion, Urd probed Yuichiro wordlessly.“Yeah! Heard that!?” He cried behind the shield of Mikaela’s validation. He thrust out his palm and raised his chin.“I’m Yuichiro Ariadust! Welcome to my house!”From Urd’s curled upper lip peered the razor-sharp tip of a fang. He returned the gesture of his open hand not with a shake but a curt remark.“Yes. The result of Ferid Bathory’s negligence.”“Huh? What’s that supposed to mean—“With a snap of his fingers, Urd herded his congregation from the heart of the grand foyer to the lowest floor, their descension a listless glide, their steps soundless.Yuichiro looked down, and upon the sparkling tile was a reflection sharing his face, his shadow a short, bulging haze.Neither existed for Urd and his followers.In retrospect, hadn’t Ferid’s mirage bounced off the little pond when they’d fought in the garden? Hadn’t his irritating smirk gleamed in the steel of his blade?
‘Come to think of it, I looked in a mirror when I first turned…’
As he returned to Mikaela’s side, he inspected what lay beneath his feet. The reflection existed but paled in comparison to his own, resembling the dimness of an afterimage.
‘The next time I train with Crowley, I’m checking his out, too—‘
“What is it, Yuichiro Ariadust?”“Ack!”Not until Mikaela’s inquiry had he noticed the proximity of their foreheads, how close he must have stood to analyze the tips of his shoes.“I… had no idea all these vampires would be here.”Laced through his comment was the hope they’d be alone, a hope he doubted Mikaela observed.“On occasion, Urd Geales will travel with his subjects.”“Got it…” Yuichiro shook his head. “Hold on a sec! Did you see that? Their reflections. Why do we have them and they don—hey!”Mikaela left to join Urd’s procession. His steps, his posture, his very countenance echoed the group in a fashion Yuichiro found eerie. A panic seized him that if he didn’t take his hand, he’d merge with them and disappear.“Wait up!”Mikaela said nothing but permitted his touch.The hall through which they traveled, under an archway beneath the balconies, mirrored any other in the estate. Vaulted structures composed the ceiling. Scalloped edging and plaster medallions nestled in the corners of the walls. The queen’s silhouette took shape in the custom molding of the skirting boards.Be that as it may, Urd led their journey. And that more than justified his protective vigilance.Finding relief in the satin of his glove, Yuichiro leaned toward his ear.“Know where we’re going?”“Urd Geales frequents the opera houses in Moscow, so Ferid Bathory arranged a performance on his behalf.”At this, the double doors at the end of the corridor spread vast, and the congregation spilled into an opulent theater with the space to house a tiny village. Gilt and crimson velvet abounded. Its cradle-shaped concert hall offered a panoramic view of the stage down below, which loomed over a deep-set orchestra pit.Instruments harmonized and singers warmed up their voices, the notes of which Yuichiro’s newfound ears stripped to the sweetest nuances.“It’s huge…” He said, surveying tiers of cushioned seats, “Where do we even sit—““Care for a drink, my lord!?”A sudden flute glass of blood, one in the hands of each vampire and downed with the swiftness of distilled liquor, pressed against his cheek.Yuichiro scrunched up his nose.“No… No thank you.”“Are you sure? Lord Bathory prefers the audience be fed before the rations perform!”“Erm…”The scent of human blood altered from dull to unappealing. His tongue ran along the back of his teeth, searching for the flavor he preferred tenfold.“I’ll be fine. But I bet Mika would like—are you serious!?” The owner of said taste finished his serving up ahead, much to the delight of an usher dressed in roses and bandages. He then installed himself into a seat on an outermost row.“Stop walking off without me!”Yuichiro hurried down the aisle. Inches away from the only chair that made sitting beside Mikaela possible, however, the vampire with the magnetic smirk made a front-hand spring into his prized seating accommodation.“Prince Illustrious, is this spot taken?” He asked with added honey in his voice.
“Actually—!”
“Splendid!”Having planted his elbow onto Mikaela’s unused armrest, he closed the very gap Yuichiro planned to thrust his hand.“That blood, it tasted of a young girl. About four, I’d say. Your hospitality is unparalleled. Tell me, which flavor suits your palette—““Augh! Move!”His rival broke into laughter the moment Yuichiro’s arm collided with the back of his head.“Mika! I don’t trust this guy! We’re supposed to be hanging out! So let’s sit together already!”“‘Mika?’ You’re quite courageous, addressing an Illustrious with such a childish name!” The vampire cried, his neck bent far enough for his chin to touch his chest.“Shut up! I’m not a kid! What do you want from him, anyway!?”“Is it wrong of me to enjoy a conversation with my host? Tell me, Prince Illustrious—““Very well.”Mikaela silenced their spat with a graceful exchange of one outermost chair to another.“I shall accompany him, Ky Luc.”
“Ha!”
Releasing Ky from his forearm, Yuichiro bounced back into his seat. An embarrassment seized him not unlike a child having his way after a tantrum he himself found inappropriate, but the joy of watching Mikaela fold his hands in his lap wiped it clean.He appeared so much taller when they first met, when his humanity cowered at the sight of a monster towering him in strength. In truth, his height bested him by a mere inch in his legs.They were equals when seated.“Thanks a lot—““What a wonderful source of entertainment you are!” Ky beamed, blotting his temple with a pocket square.He returned Yuichiro’s scowl with a smile made of sunshine.“Question, Ky! You wouldn’t happen to be friends with a vampire named Ferid Bathory, would you?”“Ferid?”Genuine surprise overtook his expression, but an ironic grin soon reclaimed its rightful place.“Ferid knows better than to show his face around us.”The second Yuichiro parted his lips, Ky pinched them shut and took note of the dimming lights.“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I prefer a more exclusive viewing experience.”He leapt into an opera box, no doubt the seating arrangement for the most esteemed of company, for Urd already installed himself in one of its two seats. The Illustrious matriarch herself had a throne mounted upon the highest tier above the stage.“He pisses me off! Mika, you should stay away from—”An eruption of strings and brass echoed throughout the auditorium. When they surrendered to the bright and playful whistles of a flute, six young dancers in two neat lines chaîné turned into act one.Yuichiro had seen his fair share of The Starlight Dance. At his first viewing, he was an eight-year-old snuggling into Guren’s lap. The ballet’s subdued, melancholy score served as a lullaby, the arms of his new family his blanket. When more students entered his household, the performance transformed into a backdrop for arguments with Kimizuki, Yoichi’s admiration, and Mitsuba’s inquiries until an exasperated sigh of “Children.” silenced them all.These memories strengthened in the harrowing vacancy of the Illustrious theatre. No whispers drifted between family members, lovers, and friends. The staple scents of perfume and wine floating about the seats was now the subtle, alluring odor of leftover blood.“They’re so far away… can they even see us?”Not a detail of costume stitching escaped his vision if he focused, but to the performers, the distance must have rendered them a blur.“Of course…” Yuichiro sighed.There Akane went, skewing his perspective again.These were human dancers.Their audience was segregated by design.He slumped into his seat, watching a shooting star transform into a prince. The character’s mere walk along the ‘night sky’ was a smooth roll through his foot—from the toe, into the ball, and then the heel—synchronized to the count of violins. All the while, a pulling sensation took hold of his right temple. Instinct demanded he look upward, and when he could take no more of it, there sat Ky in the opera box with a friendly wave.This went unacknowledged, but at least he was amusing himself.Everyone else denoted they slept with their eyes open.“Psst. Hey,” Yuichiro whispered, giving Mikaela’s hood a gentle tug.He answered face forward.“Yes, Yuichiro Ariadust?”“I’m bored. Are you bored?”“No.”“Figures. You can sit through anything.” Yuichiro sprawled into his chair. “Why would a vampire have fun at a ballet anyway?”“Perhaps the blood of those who sing and dance is more appetizing.”“… Yeah. Maybe.”How else was he to receive a group of fodder moving in front of him?Two hours.The Starlight Dance would endure for two hours.Two hours, and he’d gain the freedom to spend time with Mikaela as he pleased.All he had to do was wait.And wait.And—“This isn’t hanging out!”The longer Mikaela sat in peace, the more a swell of irritation rose within him. Did the Illustrious family expect to dump him here while they attended business, using his unbreakable contentment to justify forsaking him in the most unstimulating of environments? How long had he waited in the marble room? Was this how he spent his sleepless nights after Ferid’s arbitrary ‘bedtime’ arrangement?“No way. We’re getting out of here!”His outburst earned glares from vampires and a pause in the prince’s ballad of a romantic confession, both of which Yuichiro paid little mind.Because he had Mikaela’s shoulder to rock.“C’mon! This thing will take forever! And I wanna show you something! Please!?”A smile blossomed under the light of Mikaela’s returned eye contact, a gleeful gasp when he rose from his seat.“What is it?”“You’ll see!” Yuichiro cried, exploding from his own chair. Had Mikaela been human, he may have crushed his wrist between his fingers.“We’ll be back, okay!?” He shouted toward the stage in Latin, again in his native tongue. “Keep up the good work! Sorry for interrupting!”His assurance gained the ire of all but Ky, who wished Mikaela a safe trip with a pageant wave.“Farewell, Prince Illustrious.”Despite this gesture, the air between the two grew still.The sight would have been mesmerizing, almost intimidating, had Yuichiro possessed any patience for the usurping of Mikaela’s attention.“Yeah! Bye! We’re going!”His words were the knife that severed their wordless connection, and he led Mikaela up the aisle at once.
‘No one’s stealing another second of my time with him!’
Behind Ky’s eyes, however, Yuichiro couldn’t help but detect a similar thought.“Auuugh! We’ve seen this a hundred times now!”Having dragged Mikaela about the estate, Yuichiro ran into the same textured artwork of him flanked between aloe and fresh cut roses. He slept on a piano a faceless vampire played, and the ghostliness of his attire matched the inky black of the instrument.He offered his third apology and made his fourth left turn in their opulent maze.That Mikaela followed without a hint of agitation, without so much as a passing comment of boredom, fueled his sense of urgency.“Mika! Have you seen—“‘An enormous staircase in the middle of a hall,’ was what he meant to say until Ferid’s words barged into his headspace.‘Here it is!’ He’d flaunted, ‘My special place! Not even my master knows about it!’“That bastard! Did he know I wanna take you to his gallery!? He did, didn’t he!? Forget Ky! Is that why he’s not around today!?”Mikaela titled his head, and Yuichiro tried again with a nervous smile.“… When was the last time you saw Ferid?”“The previous night.”“‘Kay. Who did your morning routine?”“Crowley Eusford. He will retrieve me at bedtime.”“Well, at least you’re getting a break from him, right? Right?”He took the resulting silence as his cue to keep searching. Shame prevented Yuichiro from grasping his hand, so he was thankful Mikaela followed at his behest. Noting any peculiar decor to mark his trail, he patted mirrors, shook statues, and traced his fingers along any bare section the walls provided.“I know he hid it. Must have,” He grumbled, “He was there during dinner. That sleeze could’ve figured out what I wanted!”Patience dwindled, and his meander transformed into a stride.
‘What if it's weird like the place in front of Mika’s room? Did it disappear? Weirder things have happened!’
He’d lost track of where he turned and when.
‘Think! There has to be a sign I’m getting closer!’
His trip to Ferid’s gallery was far from consensual, but his death stare must’ve hit something other than his swiveling ponytail.Could he have seen—“Aha!”A statue of Queen Illustrious eclipsed one of the tall windows. Her goddess rendition was so delicate in its craftsmanship her gown draped over her form, its marble an illusion of translucent fabric. The vase hoisted beneath her arm poured bisque-fired clay into the desperate mouths of half-sculpted vampires. They drowned in an ecstasy their benefactress alone provided.The ceramic stream flashed by his peripheral vision.He was sure of it.“We’re almost there, Mika!”He sprinted past the fluted columns, gold leaf accents, and scrollwork. An oasis of persimmon pink awaited them in a hall disjointed from the rest of the estate.“Just you wait! I’m going to show you—”A dead end.His long sought after corridor was but a sunken pocket, boasting an illustration a third its stature. Fresher than the paintings in Ferid’s room, areas of impasto had yet to dry.Namely, the blood oozing from a human Yuichiro’s chest.His head rested on his sire’s lap at the heart of the grand foyer.“Yes,” Mikaela confirmed, “It appears Ferid Bathory has illustrated your turning. Is this what you desired to show me?”“No!”Yuichiro laid hold of his shoulders, searching his eyes for the spark he witnessed the evening prior.“You remember, don’t you!? The room Ferid has with all the paintings! I mentioned it before! I thought if we went together, you’d be able to see I’m telling the truth! Our entire story is in there! You, me, the vampire queen! Ferid had everything!”His words fell against the iron mask that was Mikaela’s expression.“I’m the one who’s alive again! You should be the one convincing me—!”“I have it.”“… What?”“My servant’s tale. I received it years ago.”Whether his constant griping inspired fresh information within Mikaela, removing yet another brick sustaining the wall that was his memory loss, or he sickened of hearing the subject, it didn’t matter.Either reason gave him a victory.“You mean it!?” Yuichiro rocked him back and forth with every other word. “Show me! Tell me everything!”Unfazed by the vice grip on his upper arms and the nose almost brushing against his own, Mikaela released himself with ease.“Come.”His were the first steps to his chamber, and Yuichiro trotted along with all his heart and soul.“You should’ve said something earlier! Why do I have to force everything out of everyone!?”This kick in his step ended, however, when the extravagant hall of mirrors ended and the walkway to the prince’s room began.“This way,” Mikaela said, crossing the boundary without forethought.“H-Hold on!”Yuichiro hooked arms with him as though his very presence calmed the voracious spirits plaguing the garden, and with his newfound security, joined him across the glass.“Sometimes, I think I feel wind from over there.” He jabbed his thumb toward what he hoped was a wall. “I heard a breath once, too. And a voice… it sounded like yours. Do you ever get a strange feeling around this place…?”“No.”Mikaela opened the door to his chamber. Its light flooded into the garden but only illuminated the glass at their feet and the daffodil’s petals. Their stems and leaves remained in the shadows as though a black film segregated the two.‘Of course he doesn’t,’ Yuichiro thought. ‘He’s not stepping over his own grave.’With narry a desire to linger about the walkway, he threw himself over the threshold and froze at once. His gaze darted about the room. Something was off, something impossible to detect from any particular object. Arcanu slept on a bedside ottoman, its lid rising just a sliver as its master walked past, but this evoked little in terms of fear.One glance at Mikaela, however, and the difference presented itself outright. Familiarity displaced the malaise dripping from every corner.This was his family’s room now.Beneath the cherubic statue raising the canopy bed’s veil stood a drawer, escaping Yuichiro notice it until they knelt before it.“When I first entered, this was on my bed.”Mikaela pulled open the drawer, revealing a hardcover book with a name unexpectedlyfamiliar.“… The Prince of the Black Moon?”He sat on his knees, and Mikaela followed suit. The touch of their shoulders elicited a joy he barred from his expression.The title wrapped around a healthy autumn moon made of gold illuminates. In the corner, petals fell like rain from roses wilting off a castle. Silhouettes alluded to the three characters he distinguished with ease: the queen, the prince, and the maiden.“Okay, I get it…” Yuichiro grumbled.Averaging five nightmares a week in his childhood, he’d spent many nights curled against Guren’s chest while he shared his favorite bedtime story. A rabbit hopped into a god’s fire and cooked itself as a divine offering. Thankful, the god pinned the rabbit’s form onto the moon so that it may never be forgotten. Once he knew the tale by heart, they recited it together.He might as well have called himself that very rabbit, so fictionalized was Mikaela’s understanding.“… Thanks, but what I’m trying to show you isn’t—“He cracked open the book, however, and with that, killed his determination to find the stairs.Although the prose regurgitated Ferid’s puppet show explicitly, in place of rudimentary, sewn-in faces were oil pastel renditions of his art: the children basking in Mikaela’s existence, the kiss they shared in the cell, and his own corpse cradled by a wailing vampire.“This is…”His pulse, slow yet agonized, made itself known against the stillness of his breast.“Mika… the picture we just saw… the one in the hallway. Do you remember what it was?”“Yes. It was a painting of you and I.”“And what about these!?” He urged, flipping the pages from cover to cover. “Who are they!?”Mikaela gently took the work from his hands.“They’re also us, right!?”Yuichiro recognized the way he read. He didn’t need to grimace or stumble through ‘um’s and ‘ah’s. In his eyes lived the same cloudiness his Latin texts would induce. Try as he might to scan the pages, he internalized nothing, understood nothing, recalled nothing. A harbinger of disappointment for his tutor, he failed to replicate her translations countless times.“No. These are characters in a story.”The book and a piece of his hope returned to the drawer.Mikaela stood at the crest of Yuichiro’s breath. Arcanu, sensing its master’s departure, awoke and flew onto his shoulder.“Will that be all?”Having swallowed the first words that rose from the pit of his stomach—desperate pleas to look at the book one more time—he whimpered:“Don’t go… I wanna talk to you.”Narry a word passed between them. Tension thickened the air like fog, fog only Mikaela’s voice could clear.“My conversational skills are meager,” He said at last, “but if you speak, I will listen.”A pang in Yuichiro’s heart powered his cry of “That’s not a conversation!” Yet the gentle sight of his companion’s face softened his own and dissolved any lingering ire.“Geez, I’m starting to feel Ferid talks at you more than he talks to you.”He jumped to his feet, offering Mikaela the brightest grin in his arsenal.“I want to know what you think, too!”“Concerning what?”He decided on the largest item in the chamber. Back thrown against Mikaela’s bed, it conformed to his shape with a give that felt like an embrace.“Like why you have this bed when you don’t sleep!”The more Yuichiro received his characteristic silences, the more comfortable they became.“Weird, right?”Not until a sympathetic pat on the sheets did Mikaela understand his gesture. He joined him on the mattress’s edge.Arcanu returned to the ottoman.“Awaiting an alpha to drink is uncomfortable, so I rest during my heat.”The lightest flush swept across Yuichiro’s cheeks.“Oh… right. I keep forgetting that about you.” He mumbled, his eyes escaping to the ceiling. “That you’re…”“Ferid Bathory calls me an omega.”For the endurance of a spark, he made out his mother’s sweet smile along the curves of its plaster tracery.For a moment longer, Guren’s.“… You say that, but there isn’t any shame or pride in it. Like it doesn’t matter to you.”“What am I to feel?”To stare at Mikaela’s back, his cloak flowing like water and melding into the sheets, evoked a sadness he couldn’t place. Several responses came and went in his mind, but when none proved worthy of his companion, he settled for the most true and lifted his own off the comforter.“Anything you want!”He peered at the savory temptation that was Mikaela’s neck and he shook his head in disgust.While everyone else used him as they pleased; Yuichiro refused.Freed from Mikaela’s spell and eager to change the subject, the bedroom in which they shared memories was a quick refuge.“A-Anyway, the first time we met, hadn’t you come back from a bath? Why do you take them if we don’t need to?”Not an ounce of perspiration glistened upon his skin since he turned; blood was his only scent.“The water feels nice,” Mikaela answered.“Ahaha, how’d you figure that out—w-wait! I’m—!”Yuichiro bit his lip as yet another ill-begotten remark tightened the knot in the back of his throat. When Akane suggested he take Ferid’s place, she didn’t mean to provide Mikaela with blue gloves of his own, to gouge at his past relentlessly while he remained in the dark.“Sorry! That’s not—Hey, wanna hear something funny!?”He took Mikaela’s eye contact as approval.“So my friend Narumi comes home with wagyu one day. I say, ‘Wagyu? What’s that? Is it good?’ Narumi looks super mad at me and says ‘You’re an Ariadust and you don’t know about wagyu!? I was born into one of your retainer families, and I know about wagyu!’ I turn to my friend Kimizuki and say, ‘Hey. What’s a retainer?.’ He says, get this: ‘Same general concept as wagyu!’”Mikaela nodded. “I see. Wagyu is a retainer.”“…”‘Of course I bombed!’ Yuichiro wailed internally, the corners of his mouth twisted into a painful smile. ‘Why would he know about human food!?’“Ferid Bathory discusses human trivialities with me as well, but I find them difficult to follow.”He compared him to Ferid.How worse could his reaction be?“Don’t worry about it!”At least the damage to his ego provided the perfect segue into a more important matter.“Speaking of him, when Ferid talks to you, does he also drink your blood?”“Nearly a century has passed since he consumed it. Whatever interest he expressed is no more than an idle boast.”“Idle…”He recalled the definition Yoichi gave upon finding it in his Narumi’s romance novel.“Oh! You mean it’s a bluff!” He affirmed, and a sigh of relief followed. “So he acts different when it’s just the two of you?”“Our time together is brief. He accompanies me during a meal or in the presence of others.”Yuichiro frowned.Without a doubt, the garden had served as a stage for his protective instincts.“If there are no meetings to attend, I spend most of my day in solitude.”“Doing what? Sitting here?”“Yes.”Flares of irritation pulled Yuichiro to the edge of the mattress.“That’s not right! Does anyone even check on you!? Make sure you’re okay!?”“If I desire blood, my servant will deliver it.”“Forget about blood! What if… what about…”Neither an enemy's presence, ominous shadows about a garden, nor the need to tether Mikaela to his side motivated Yuichiro’s hand. This time, compassion broke over him in waves, threatening to rupture his heart if he didn’t inch closer.“Mika… you don’t have to be by yourself anymore.”In the face of Mikaela’s continued silence, the stretch of his fingers, the consent to weave them into his, far surpassed any verbal affirmation.“I meant what I said before. You’re my friend! I’ll come spend time with you! We can keep talking, just like this.”Mikaela’s world, bereft of the opportunity for real companionship, normalized this harrowing solitude. He couldn’t miss what he’d never known.But Yuichiro knew.The exhaustion of loneliness, the absence of a family’s love, the desperation for one affectionate word—he knew them all too well.That’s why Mikaela needed him.Fingers withdrawn, he examined the knuckles of his gloves as though the unfamiliar warmth of Yuichiro’s touch left a mark.“I will.”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

‘Wow, he’s so slow… It’s like he’s moving through molasses.’
In the time Lacus charged toward Yuichiro, halberd readied to cleave into its opponent, he’d finished reading his every move. His steps, the angle at which he steadied his blade (no doubt aiming for the neck), and the way he carried himself, all betrayed an easy escape.What occupied Mikaela’s morning, he wondered.He knew his declaration of friendship wouldn’t magically free Mikaela of his schedule, but this logic failed to soothe his irritation when the progenitor council shut him up all day.A couple of options were at his disposal: the first (and less fun) was a blasé side-step at 5:00. The second, a counterattack and haughty laugh.“… Duh.”He drew his blade with grace, dodged with a leisurely hop around Lacus, and swung a perfect arc along his torso.His opponent hit the ground in two, and his halberd skidded across the floor.“Woo hoo! Yu Ariadust wins!” Chess cried from the bench, lifting his runaway weapon like a pompom.Yuichiro sneered and rested his katana’s hilt on his shoulder. As a human, a blade his own height and a third his weight would’ve made for an impractical tool, but now it felt light as a feather.A disembodied whistle, and Crowley landed from where Mikaela once stood on the upper balcony. Accompanying him was Horn, whose bored expression was tinted with an air of respect, although scarcely perceptible.“That blade suits you well.”Yuichiro beamed. “You bet! Though I’d defeat him with anything!”He threw his head back toward Lacus, who scooted his torso close enough to reconnect his waist.“How ‘bout a rematch!?”“Ha!” Lacus scoffed, giving his abdomen a hearty pat. He jumped to his feet and tested his reformed body with a series of stretches.The extent to which he shrugged off the offer almost disappointed him.“I don’t have the idiocy of a human. Vampires don’t pick fights we can’t win.”Having indulged his former rival, he made a stride to the bench where his companion René awaited him.Yuichiro snorted, turning all his attention to the beauty in his hand.“Where’d you find this?” He asked, running his fingers along the cool metal of the blade.As suspected, his reflection bounced off his sword, but neither Lacus, Crowley, nor his servants appeared when he tilted it backward.“Who knows?” Crowley shrugged, “Ferid and I discussed your combat capabilities, and I believe he commissioned this for you.”“Huh…”Easing the grip of his sword was as easy as his teacher assured. The thorn retreated from his flesh and snaked back into the hilt when he relaxed his posture. A weapon of moods and melancholy, it flared against his palm the moment he stood before Lacus.Once free, he released it into the air and caught it before the thin tip pierced the ground.With a nod of approval, Crowley folded his arms and continued. “Yes… something about accommodating your need for escape?”
“He won’t be so smug when I drive this through his head!”
“I’m not too fond of him myself, but what did your elder say about picking fights you can’t win?”Yuichiro rolled his eyes. “I’ll kill him before you know it! Anyway—” He inspected Crowley’s front, back, and side. “Why isn’t Mika with you?”“Why ask me? Didn’t His Royal Highness tell you he had a progenitor council meeting today?”“Y-Yeah, but…”“Clingy, aren’t we?”Before Yuichiro offered a retort, another round of applause came not from above but a presence lurking in the pews. His smile betrayed a hair-raising cross of frigidity and madness belonging to no other vampire. “It’s the bloodsucker from before…”“Ky Luc? You met him—?”Chess squeezed her way between Horn and Crowley, making a bigger show of inspecting his person than any of the three.
“What!? ‘Quinus Sator!?’”
At this, Ky’s smile only deepened, and a disgust Yuichiro thought exclusive for himself darkened Horn’s face.“Might as well ask him what he wants.”“Ah! Yu—!”The handle of his blade throbbed with each step closer to his observer. A mantra he’d yelled at Kimizuki countless times passed through his mind: he may have been reckless, but he wasn’t reckless and stupid.He stopped a stone’s throw away, within just enough reach to instigate conversation.However indifferent he appeared, Ky must have picked up this tactic, for in his crimson eyes lived a glimmer of excitement.“What are you after? You don’t have to spy on me.”He answered with as little hesitance as Mikaela.“I find you worthy of investigation. Would it trouble you greatly to answer a few questions of mine?”Yuichiro made a final glance over his shoulder.After a meager shrug from Crowley, a thumbs-up from Chess, and a grimace from Horn, he followed Ky into the eerie stillness of the hall.“My comrade Urd tells me you moved here not too long ago,” He began, adjusting the corner of his glove.A stiff nod, Yuichiro figured, would mask the surprise of his history being passed amongst the vampires.“That’s right.”“What I find strange is that you entered as a human.”Yuichiro tilted his head.“… You seem sure about that. What’s your proof?”“Your eyes. You haven’t fully relinquished your humanity.”“Uh…!”How quick he lost his game of playing coy.His gaze dropped in the false hope he could hide the anomaly on his face. He focused on the inner pocket of Ky Luc’s dress coat, whereupon he revealed a vial of blood.“Want some?”“Don’t need any.”Ky let out a sigh of satisfaction as though his rejection was the correct answer.“I see… you drink from your sire, yes?”Another divined accuracy.“S-So…?”His sudden peal of laughter took Yuichiro aback.“What!? What is it!?”“Of course, of course you do!” Ky cried, slapping his forehead. “You’re that Hyakuya boy! The one he consumed! That explains everything!”‘Hyakuya…?’“… That’s who I was?” slipped between Yuichiro’s lips without forethought.“If Ferid’s partner is to be believed. Though I have my doubts. Still…”Ky Luc brought him back to the present by force, taking hold of his chin and examining every nuance of his face with a physician’s care.“What an interesting spectacle you are. Not only does Illustrious tolerate your company, he accepts it. What a shame.”“And!? Why wouldn’t we be together!?”Yuichiro’s inquiry went ignored for another. “Tell me, Yuichiro. To what subset of humanity were you made this time?”“Made…?” He furrowed his brow. “I’m an alpha, if that’s what you’re asking.”At this, the fingers grasping his chin had wilted, and laughter reverberated about the walls. Whatever impression he had on Ky, it was non-assuming enough for him to turn toward the shadows of the archway.“What’s so funny…?”“Ah… how lucky for me.”When Ky returned his gaze once more, a realization dawned upon Yuichiro. The peculiar glint in his eye, one that drew him near when they first met…His irises boasted a brighter scarlet than he was used to seeing on another bloodsucker.The only pair as bright as his were…Surrounding his raised right hand was a crimson film, sprouting from his skin and thick like congealed blood. His fingers transformed into the head of a spear.“I thought you’d become my enemy, but my prey is much more interesting.”There was no time to react.Ky Luc swept him off his feet, and in seconds, Yuichiro hurled through the walls with considerable might. Crashing partitions and crumbled brick littered his eyes, nose, and mouth. Vertebrae broke off. The back of his skull caved in. Blood vessels ruptured. But his body refused to process what minor pain it registered. Wherever he rocketed, the trip endured enough for him to think.Only Mikaela’s irises had been that bright.Yuichiro squeezed his fingers, and relief washed over him when the hilt of his blade remained in his palm, its groves burrowed into his skin. No sooner did his back slam into its last obstacle: the protective railings at the bottom of a balcony. Dust settled, and the chips of carpeted flooring fell like rain. Dim lights and elongated aisles of red, cushioned seats reclaimed their visibility. He straightened his spine, saving himself from joining the rail in a gruesome fall into the orchestra pit. The auditorium shook in the aftermath.‘I’m not running! I’m not unarmed!’“Sword! Drink my—““Not yet!”Smoke parted like clouds as Ky careened toward Yuichiro, his heels in a straight trajectory for his face.
“Stay back!”
His wrists cracked as his blade absorbed most of the blowback. Healed in seconds. An upward swing, and Ky soared up the aisle, landing en pointe on a chair.“Curious! Most swords would’ve broken by now,” He noted, “By all means, why don’t we have some fun before I drink you dry?”Their distance between each other closed with a fearsome leap. Metal screeched against metal. Yuichiro swung his sword as briskly as possible, but his parries were landing too cleanly. His opponent’s errors bordered on precision.Not a second passed where he couldn’t have landed a finishing blow.‘He’s bored!’ raced through Yuichiro’s mind, ‘This isn’t how he wants to beat me!’Not with a blade.As if congratulating him on this deduction, Ky released his weapon and grabbed the side of his neck. Yuichiro put as much power into his backward step as possible, but the grip between his neck and shoulder wasn’t as cinched as he thought. He lost not a chunk of his flesh, but the layers of fabric protecting it.
‘There’s no wound…?’
His mistake lasted a millisecond, a mere downward glance, but Ky kicked the side of his face off. Skin tore beneath his heel like scum off water. Doused in the scent of his own blood, the force destroyed his balance and sent him free-falling sideways off the balcony.Ky didn’t follow.He stood from above, his smile, ever-gruesome, plastered on his lips. Yuichiro’s one available eye locked with his the entire way down.The cement cracked like glass upon his landing, deepening its crater as instruments and stands tumbled onto his broken frame. Pipes split. He couldn’t speak. A sink-full of blood filled his mouth.Regenerating…His muscles started knitting together, but he couldn’t move.Regenerating…He still couldn’t move.Regenerating…“Forgive me, I often forget to fight with my weapons.”So did Mikaela. Despite being asked, he ended Crowley’s sparring match with a ruthless tear of his limbs.
‘Mika…’
Regenerating…
‘I’m fighting against Mika…’
Yuichiro saw him perfectly even from afar, how his blood had dyed the entire half of Ky’s body, who licked it clean from his upper lip. “It’s much more fun!”He dove toward the orchestra pit, and Yuichiro used his newfound muscles to push himself out of the way. A tuba slumped against the back of his skull and protected him from the oncoming debris.“With you dead, I’m sure I’ll get to play with Illustrious again.”Yuichiro struggled to his feet.“Is that what this is…? You wanted his attention…?”“Don’t misunderstand. I don’t feel any affection for him. I’m not like you,” Ky corrected. “He’s so fun when he’s aggressive. I fought him once. Stealing his alpha sacrifice in the middle of his heat was the perfect provocation! What a treat I had! I’ve been chasing the thrill ever since. When vampires and humans alike are weaker than you, life becomes dull—”He dodged the aforementioned tuba headed straight for his face.
“Shut up! I don’t care what you want! You don’t know... you don’t know anything! Do you have any idea how much I’ve been busting my ass just for him to look in my direction!? Kill me if you want him to yourself! I’m never abandoning my family!”
Ky smiled.“I appreciate your consent.”To jump out the orchestra pit was a false haven, but one glimpse into Ky’s eyes was all he needed to know death took note of him that afternoon. His battle would be of perpetual defense.He landed onto the stage, and his enemy’s following was immediate.“I’ve decided to stop holding back.”“So have I!”Yuichiro prepared a clean swing of his blade, but it was him who swung like a doll. With a simple arm around his waist, he was as immobile as a person in a choke hold.“I’m not interested in fighting anymore, I’m afraid,” He heard from behind.
“Let go—!”
Ky licked his exposed neck and evaporated the words from his throat.Warm and wet, no other muscle made sense. And yet—It shaved off his skin.Blood gushed. Air hit his carotid artery.It burned—a burn that rivaled the sun itself.Self-preservation took over. He thrashed for dear life out of his arms and freed himself.“Oops, I didn’t know you’d still have some fight in you!”Ky caught his stumble with a hand shoved straight into his back—past his spine, through his lungs, and with a deathly clutch on his heart.“Exquisite. Prey like you is why I refuse to wait until my heat. It’s much more fun without the overbearing thirst.”The wound wept to his feet.“Hey, alpha? What’s wrong?”Something poured into him from the wound in his neck and rushed through his limbs like lightning through a cloud. A step forward, and the dark spots in his vision spread.“If all is well, hold still while I drink you.”
‘I can’t… I can’t die here!’
The tip of Ky’s nose tickled the back of his ear.“Your blood smells delicious. Perhaps I should have preserved you, but it’s too late now.”
‘I still…! I have to…!’
A ghastly addition joined the fangs clamping into his neck.Behind the usual two were a sharper, hollower pair. Whatever entered his veins flowed from their tips.Whether tears blurred his vision or the foreign substance making his head spin, he didn’t know.“…lp me,” He gurgled.If the acceptance of his friendship meant anything… anything at all…What felt like the last of his blood drained from his body, and he used his remaining energy to call out his name.Silence reigned half a minute further, broken only by the collapsing foundations of the frontal balcony. The fangs buried in Yuichiro’s veins retracted, and they set to work healing at a pitiful capacity, as though stitched by a slow and delicate hand.“Hm?” Ky taunted, “There’s that strange name again. Are you crying for your sire? Do you think your ludicrous attempt at camaraderie—““Ky Luc."Yuichiro gathered enough strength to lift his head toward the opulent throne.The sound of footsteps echoed closer and closer, until standing at the heart of the royal tapestry, flowing from the throne like silk, was Mikaela ‘Octavus Sator’ Illustrious.“Mi… ka?”“Why hello!” Ky bowed, one hand in Yuichiro and another resting daintily on his chest. “How good of you to come—”What happened next, Yuichiro didn’t have time to see. A flash of white, an explosion, and blood that wasn’t his splattered onto the back of his head. The gaping wound in his thorax had emptied, and he collapsed face-first onto the stage, which rumbled like the aftershock of an earthquake.“Ugh…” He dragged himself on his side, and what once stood as the right wing of a cradled auditorium was now the deepest crater of plummeting rock, cushioned chairs, and splintered wood. Vampirism afforded him every last detail of Ky’s regenerated face—or rather, where his face used to be. It, too, had been caved in, a mess of broken teeth and distorted bones cracking and curling in. His muscles twitched like a half-crushed insect.‘No wonder they neglected their swords,’ he thought. They could demolish the entire palace with their hands.“What are you doing?” Mikaela asked with the lackadaisical flair of walking in on them reading.“S-Shouldn’t… you ask that before you attack someone…?”Massaging his ribs as they linked to his sternum, Ky gave vent to a low chuckle.“You really came to that boy’s rescue. That’s not like you.”He cracked his neck into place.“No… there’s no way we were out of your hearing range. But I’ve seen you neglect far closer phenomena. Could it be you were already thinking of him?”Yuichiro’s eyes widened.Those meek, hopeless whispers resulted in Mikaela standing before him.His suffering wasn’t in his line of sight, a chore akin to picking a stray sock off the floor.Yuichiro called to him—and he came.“I was going to drink that alpha, so I’ll thank you to hand him over.”At this, all he received was Mikaela’s signature blank stare. When the last cell upon his face reconstructed, he exploded off his back. The crimson pools spinning around his fingers congealed into a sharp blade.“Watch out—!”Mikaela didn’t dodge his impending attack, however, nor did he parry it with his own sword.He merely grabbed Ky’s wrists, the tip of his blade centimeters from his eye.Momentum powerful enough to smash the long-standing auditorium to smithereens, enough to make Yuichiro collapse into a bloody heap, and Mikaela absorbed the impact without a flinch.In a swift motion, he anchored Ky mid-descent, gripped his waist, and ripped his upper half into the orchestra pit.The bottom half fell at his feet.Yuichiro squeezed his eyes shut, but the hands sticky with his predator’s blood didn’t inflict him the harm his instincts anticipated. They rested on his back, under his knees. His head soon found the comfort of Mikaela’s chest.“Are you all right?”“Wha…? Am I…”“Amusing! So amusing, Illustrious!” A gruesome laugh rose from below.Mikaela trailed closer to the stage’s edge, peering at Ky Luc out of the basic etiquette of being addressed.He earned the latter’s smile for doing so.“You probably don’t even know you’re angry.”Yuichiro surveyed the destruction about the theatre—the entrails hanging from Ky’s torso, the tip of Mikaela’s foot digging into his severed legs, the craters where seats once stood. Regardless of his expression, Mikaela’s strikes were unmistakably lethal.Using his upper arms, Ky hauled himself to a music stand on which he propped upward.“Hey…” Yuichiro said, confident in his newfound safety. “You can let me down—““No.”“What…?”Mikaela not only denied him but held him closer.“Not yet.”A subtle warmth spread across Yuichiro’s face. “O-Okay…”“You, a mere eighth progenitor, shouldn’t have been able to defeat me,” Ky mused. His laugh bore a subtler nuance than before.“That imposter told the truth, it seems. Guess it takes a fake to recognize another one. But allow me to give you advice, Prince Illustrious.”He took Mikaela's deadpan stare as consent.“Whatever concern you have for your progeny is fleeting. Oddities come and go, but you’ll lose interest should they disappear.”At ‘they’ his eyes flashed toward Yuichiro.“Don’t fool yourself into believing you’ll miss that thing. Even you must know vampires can’t grow to like anyone. Such loyalty is an inclination we vampires don’t have. Whatever part of you is missing him will be erased. You’ll sever any side of yourself for convenience. That’s how you function. That’s why you’re so fun! So let me kill him—““No.”For the first time since they’d met, Ky relinquished his ever-present smile.“Tell me. This progeny of yours… what is he to you?’He asked not with an air of curiosity but of methodical prodding. He wished to lay Mikaela’s state of mind bare on the dissection table.And without hesitation he answered, “My friend.”His answer struck Yuichiro with a defiant joy that exhaustion barred him from expressing. He resigned with a nuzzle into his savior’s chest.At last Mikaela freed Ky’s legs from beneath his heel, kicking them into the pit to accompany their owner.“Urd Geales awaits your presence in the dining hall. Join him when you heal.”He left the theatre in the same state as his opponent: battered and broken.They took an exit behind the stage, one that must have been reserved for the queen, for a small saloon furnished with tea sets and perfumed with the scent of old blood preluded the corridor.Unable to endure the silence any longer, Yuichiro said, “Mi—”“However you choose to play, and with whom, is your choice. But should you desire to live, it is best to stay away from Ky Luc.”Such unprompted admonishment for his safety dropped his jaw. Despite his interesting use of the word ‘play,’ he didn’t digest his words so much as savor their very existence.“O-Oh…” He crimsoned; his spirits lifted. “Sorry… and put me down!”He escaped Mikaela’s arms without restraint, but fire engulfed his insides the moment his feet touched the floor. Needles climbed the ladder of his spine. With a vice grip on his abdomen he stumbled onto one of many ornate sofas.His outsides may have knitted together, but his insides remained shredded. They bubbled, curdled, and when he parted his lips, he thought they’d project from his esophagus.“What’s… happening?” He choked.“Ky Luc’s venom is liquifying your organs.”Droplets of blood fell from Yuichiro’s nose, mouth, and ears, besmirching his reflection on the coffee table.“How…” Acid burgeoned through his veins and spurted across his innards, faster than his body was regenerating. The victor of this push and pull grew more and more evident.
“Blood…! I need your—“
“My blood alone will not be sufficient.” Mikaela answered flatly.
“T-Then—!”
Yuichiro froze when another soul depressed the sofa’s cushions.Arms wrapped around his waist, and as though he were a boneless slump, Mikaela rested him on his lap, chin tucked to his shoulder.His lips poised above his jugular vein.“I have to draw it from your bloodstream.”Run, his instinct pleaded.The helplessness. The humiliation. To withstand it in his current state was unimaginable.If he and Ky were the same species of vampire…But Mikaela was family.That fact… meant he could trust him.Another choked sob, then he craned his neck as far right as he could.
“W-Whatever you gotta do! Just hurry up!”
Yuichiro’s gaze escaped about the salon. He listened keenly for Ky to rise from the ruins of where they forsook him—a distraction in the manner of a patient expecting a needle.His search proved unnecessary, however, the moment Mikaela’s teeth entered his flesh. One swallow, and pools of elation flooded every crevice of his brain.He’d heard countless stories of rogue vampires drinking the innocent. They’d fall to the ground as empty husks, their life forces depleted sip by sip. But no one relayed what a marvelous sensation lied in their march toward death.How was he to know? Mikaela betrayed nothing when he drank from him, and Ky’s snag of his carotid artery set his body ablaze.He slapped his hand over his mouth at once and bit beneath his middle finger, swallowing every sob of relief, of unmitigated joy that threatened to escape.
‘This is so humiliating!’
His organs healed, but Mikaela’s grasp, his scent, hadn’t lost its magnetic allure.Instead, a want unlike any he experienced stirred in the pit of his stomach.“Mika… please.”With the fond reverence of an offering he rose one of the arms supporting him. His fangs elongated, ached. The sleeve of Mikaela’s overcoat, his jacket, his undershirt—he pushed away each layer separating him from the veins in his forearm.Then he bit.The cleansing of his bloodstream clouded his brain with a delightful fog he hoped would never clear, but to drink from Mikaela was a bliss unparalleled. Tears burned at his ducts, collected, and fell down his chin. He whined with each swallow. The relief suffocated him. His weak little pulse grew fervent, impassioned as it thrummed against his ribcage. The more he drank, the more heartbreaking the whispers of pleasure became, promising his dreams and aspirations wouldn't hold a candle to the rapture consumption provided.Stay. He needed to stay.Nothing else mattered.If he could drink like this…When Mikaela retracted his fangs, Yuichiro tore himself away minutes later and made an awkward swoon off his lap. To indulge in the afterglow alone brought a pleasure death-defying, dizzying. The pillows melded against his cheek and promised their eternal support if he drifted into sleep forever. But soon the nightmarish apathy disappeared, leaving in its wake the love and care for everything and everyone in his life.He would have thanked Mikaela had his mouth been free of venom.
‘Wait…’
Why did he need his mouth to thank him?“I’m finished,” his benefactor said, wiping his lips.Yuichiro sat up, rubbing the side of his neck but reeling from the resulting buzz. “T-Thanks…”Praying a conversation would dissipate the thick atmosphere or, at the very least, distract him, he followed up with, “So… was it good? Did you like it?”Mikaela made no answer. As he stared at the back of his glove, his sharp pupils lost focus as though the blood stains belonged to another place and time.“… Mika?”So accustomed was Yuichiro to Mikaela’s inanimate features he assumed the chandeliers above made his eyes so luminous. That was, until the moisture threatened to spill down his cheeks. His mouth quivered.“Are you okay!? What’s wrong?” He cried, waving a hand in front of his face.To his surprise, this was all Mikaela needed to twitch into his usual candor. His pupils cleared as he rose from the sofa.“Rest. Your body may need more time to heal.”Dumbfounded yet relieved, he asked slowly, “But what about Ky…? He won’t stay there forever—““There is no reason for him to harm you.”When Mikaela appeared to slip from his grasp, the part of Yuichiro’s flesh where his fangs once sank pulsated. His mouth watered. His chest swelled with a longing not unlike homesickness.Each time he drank his blood, his pulse grew more fervent.“What about you…?” He forced, voice husky.“Where’re you headed?”“Krul Illustrious had summoned me.”Of course he still met with the queen, a sliver of insight shouted from the depths of his all-consuming indignation upon hearing her name. If Ferid Bathory occupied his time, why not she?When this question and the implications thereof only worsened the aching in his stomach, there to quell it was—“... retrieve you.”Yuichiro blinked.“Run that by me again?”“When we finish our meeting, Crowley Eusford will retrieve you.”A small gasp accompanied his spring from the sofa.
“You mean we’ll hang out!?”
“Yes, Yuichiro Ariadust.”With eyes that sparkled and gleamed, he bounced to Mikaela’s side and cared little where their paths would end or diverge. So long as he drank in his company, he’d cross what seemed like acres of polished granite to find his way back. Should his sense of direction prove inadequate, his friend would assist him.“By the way…” He began, his free-floating anxiety replaced by an equally agitating zeal for conversation.“‘Yuichiro Ariadust’ is so… formal. Can’t you just call me Yu? That’s what all my friends back home call me.”“Yes. How I address you is inconsequential.”“You could’ve said that a lot nicer…”‘I’d be happy to call you a nickname,’ would suffice.Not a bone in Mikaela’s body was acclimated to flattery, a considerate word, but this, Yuichiro concluded, made his invitations even more gratifying.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

“C’mon, try saying my nickname! Pleeeease?”Upon exiting the coziness of the salon, the faint drizzle outdoors had transformed into a roof rattling shower. The sky had lost its intolerable silver glare born from overbearing sunlight behind a wafer-thin overcast. His entire frame relaxed—a vampiric instinct of safety.“I got it!” He directed Mikaela’s attention toward the rain washed windows. “Let’s meet up outside since the weather’s so nice! When you pay close attention, you can make out each drop, and the different shades are really awesome too!” “I see.” Yuichiro pursed his lips.
‘Another short conversation…’
While he searched for a new topic—the more tangible the subject, the more likely Mikaela responded—they’d passed a work of art whose window matched the comforting dreariness of the afternoon. Mikaela’s back faced the viewer as he rested on a bedroom chair. The curtains he’d never open welcomed the shadows of the clouds. Countless roses swallowed the floor beside a basket filled with stems. The scissors in his hand gleamed as an imminent victim of beheading wedged between the blades.“Isn’t it weird having so many pictures of you? Like that?” He insisted, pointing, “It’d drive me mad!”Mikaela followed his finger, with the added courtesy of glancing at the image in question. “I never noticed.” “…”
‘Scary!’
But this utter disregard gave way to a novel realization, one that lit up Yuichiro’s face. If his focus was that selective, then—
‘Maybe he was thinking about me…’
Riding the high of his thoughts, he cried,“I was right all along, Mika! That Ky bloodsucker is no good! And you shouldn’t be around him, either!” Mikaela offered no response, so Yuichiro hopped in front of him. “Just you wait—!” The moment their gazes met, however, a shudder climbed the ladder of his spine, for the dizzying taste of Mikaela’s blood electrified his tongue. “Uh—” He swallowed the stone in the back of his throat. “I’m gonna get stronger! Extra powerful! And the next time we see him, we’ll beat him up together!” Such a dismal non-reaction and unblinking stare made anyone retreat inward, Yuichiro thought. Or at least try again. “How about it!?” He chanted, choosing the later.Nothing.With a pitiful return to Mikaela’s side, he allowed their journey through the hall to continue.Scratching the side of his cheek, Yuichiro mumbled, “Really, Mika… thanks.”A melancholy he needed a moment to parse kept his eyes on the windows.“You’re always coming to my rescue.”The words hit his ear as a confession. Traces of helplessness, an air of frustration, colored his voice. “You called me,” Mikaela replied as though pointing out the basic phenomenon of cause and effect. A knife prodded Yuichiro’s heart. At the crest of their right turn where a pair of doors loomed, he rushed in front of Mikaela. “Don’t get used to it,” he promised, grasping the door knob behind his back, “I’ll help you, too!” “Yes.” Yuichiro discerned an odd slant in Mikaela’s affirmation. No genuine belief lived within it. If he were to translate it into his own vernacular, surely it’d be on par with “whatever you say.” “I mean it, Mika. I’m saving you from everyone here.”He’d ran out of responses for the time being, so with a defeated pout he stepped backward into their destination. A surprise awaited him when he faced forward. Flasks of blood had a range of homes, from ceilings, to shelves latched on the walls, to ice boxes. Each had a label, segregated by date drawn, age (none of which surpassed a week), and gender. The scent emanating from the chamber may have overwhelmed his nose, but not even a vampire who enjoyed human blood would have found them appealing. The samples lacked… life.“Hold on a sec,” he mumbled, inches from the opposite facing door. “If we’re here…”The cases ready for lunch were one room ahead.The center table on which he kicked off the assortment of dining ware, the special kettles in which they heated blood, and aprons dyed red, stood before him. Where an arrangement of fake flowers now lay, he’d placed Akane to protect her from the spirits. The water in the sinks donned a scarlet hue. The leftovers on the stove had the same aromatic effect as when Yoichi warmed a pan of cinnamon milk. “We were this close to the kitchen!?”The estate was an inescapable maze with no corridors of rhyme or reason in his eyes. He’d spent countless hours tracing his steps from here to the blood maiden’s corners just to check on Akane. In fact, the only place he never had to backtrack, not even once, was—“The dining hall is the heart of the manor,” Mikaela noted. His scent overpowered a mortal’s when Yuichiro caught up to him. His mouth watered.“Unlike humans, a vampire desires only blood.”The peculiarity he picked up in his voice had returned, though it bore a different nuance.‘Are you all right?’Compared to his flights of curiosity, his standard apathy, this statement had a recited air.A regurgitation.“… That so?”Like when Mikaela called himself his friend. The brilliant behemoth that was the dining hall assumed a grander scale when a lone individual drank at the table. Just as Crowley finished the rest of his glass, his lips perched at the rim, in walked Mikaela and Yuichiro. “There you are,” He groaned, his features the most genuine Yuichiro had ever seen. Careful not to spill his last morsel, he placed it under the candelabra and leapt from one side of the dining arrangement to the other. “Where have you been? You abandoned the queen.” “Ahaha…”Not until Crowley examined Mikaela head to toe did Yuichiro notice the absolute mess Ky’s battle had made of them. Mikaela’s tranquility rubbed off on him, he guessed. Nor could he imagine any circumstance powerful enough to rob him of the floaty giddiness warping his brain. “Whose blood is…” Crowley caught a whiff and pulled back his neck at once. “Ky Luc!?” His eyes widened further at Yuichiro.“You look worse than him. Explain yourself.” “Well…”“Ky Luc intended to devour my progeny,” Miakela filled in, much to Yuichiro’s delight. “So I relinquished him.” “Your…” Whatever piqued Crowley’s interest disappeared with a shake of his head. “How messed up is he?”“Ripped in half in the orchestra pit,” Yuichiro said with an innocent smile. Crowley pinched the bridge of his nose. “Of course he is.” Grabbing a handful of Mikaela’s cloak, he continued, “There’s no way you’re returning to the queen in this state. I wouldn’t hear the end of it from her or Ferid.”“He’s not their dress up doll,” Yuichiro argued, grimacing. “What does it matter how he looks?”“The party who ruined his clothes in the first place should keep quiet.”
“That’s wasn’t my fault! I didn’t tell him to kill me!”
Not in earnest.A pause, then Crowley rubbed his right temple with a sigh. “Guess I have no choice.”On one bent knee, he raised Mikaela’s hand and sheltered it over his own. “Allow me to draw you a bath, Your Royal Highness.”“Very well. My progeny will accompany us.”“As you wish—what?”Yuichiro and Crowley exchanged a look, one bashful and the other wrought with exhaustion, but the latter gave way to acquiescence. While Yuichiro usually flinched whenever Crowley’s hand drew near, lest he put him through yet another monstrous ruffling of his hair, this time, to flee would have been more proper. He gripped the top of Yuichiro’s head and twisted it his scalp left and right. “Interesting… half your skull feels…” He squeezed twice. “Fresher, stronger.”
“I told you I’m not a kid! Quit it!”
“I don’t have Ferid’s tailoring skills, but I may have something for you—”
“Hands off!”
At last he regained his freedom and received a playful shrug from his tormentor. “Allow me to lead the way, Your Royal Highness.”“Yes.”With no acknowledgement toward his second company, Crowley took Mikaela’s hand and strolled out the dining hall. Side by side, their sophisticated steps synchronized at once. Yuichiro lagged behind them. ‘How long has it been since I’ve taken a bath…?’ He wondered.His imagination returned him to the Ariadust home, whose bathroom contained the key aspects of the chateau: gaudiness, a ceiling meters too tall, and nostalgia.
‘Yu… you shower way too fast. Even if you want to save water, to bathe in five minutes? You did wash yourself, I hope.’
Yuichiro made a ‘humph’ sound in his throat as they traversed the grand foyer, trading the right wing for the left. There was always something more important to do: a caretaker to pest, a Narumi with which to spat, a Kimizuki for sparring. What did he expect if he promised a rematch before an activity as boring as taking a bath?
‘But now…’
His gaze trailed up Mikaela’s back, curls bouncing ever so slightly as he walked, cloak buoyant on air. With each mirror they passed in the hall, he appeared to walk at his lonesome—his hand resting on the invisible.
‘I guess I have all the time in the world.’
At least Mikaela would enjoy himself—“Here we are.”“What the—!?”Unlike the Ariadust chateau, the bath engulfed most of the room, able to house three ponds from the garden. The water boasted a stark gradient: crystal clear from the stairs and shadowy on the furthest end. In the center stood a statue of Krul Illustrious, whose open palms provided an ever-flowing fountain. Lazy heat rose from its depths.“It’s huge!” Yuichiro cried.Crowley slipped Mikaela’s overcoat off his shoulders. “What did you expect?” His jacket and collared shirt followed, and he leaned into his ear in the fashion of relaying a secret.“I’ll relay your whereabouts to the queen. Because of irritating circumstances—”“Hey!”“You’ve taken a detour to clean yourself.”Mikaela gave a curt nod. His only movements accommodated the removal of his clothing: a graceful hand outward to pull off his gloves, a raised foot to slip off his boots. “It seems you’ll be bathing alone. Your progeny is much too preoccupied with staring.”A flush spread across Yuichiro’s cheeks at break-neck speed. “Shut up! That’s not it!”“My apologies. Did you plan on washing yourself and your clothes?”“I…” Yuichiro pouted and turned his back, fumbling with the buttons on his waist coat. “There’s no need to save those,” Crowley added, “I’m sure Ferid disposes of work as torn and soiled as yours.” He must have finished disrobing Mikaela, for his garments were folded neatly on a counter of glass. The splash of displaced water followed. “I’ll be back later.”Yuichiro refused to continue undressing until the last of Crowley’s long ponytail escaped his sight and he completed a count to fifteen. He squished his balled up heap of fabric between the edge of a marble bench and the wall. On a second glance, his reflection in the tiles resembled the target of a paint-spilling prank. The side of his body Ky gave an eviscerating kick bespattered blood on the half he spared. “Can’t believe I didn’t notice… isn’t that funny Mi—”The sight of Mikaela took his own name from his mouth. As a stream poured onto his head and shoulders, past his back, a near child-like innocence colored his resting face. The blood staining his neck and chin didn’t flush into the water but evaporated off his fair, nubile skin. Yuichiro smirked. Despite Crowley’s teasing, he had no reason to be self-conscious bathing with his sire. After drinking his blood, what shame could he have left in his presence? His body had grown dull to temperature, but that wouldn’t stop his big-toe-first testing habit. Wet, silky, to plunge the rest of his lower half evoked the sensations of being wrapped in an ever-flowing blanket. He splashed his face, and Ky’s blood evaporated off his reflection, dissipating into the steam. “This… is so weir—ood…” He slurred, joining Mikaela against the fountain. He mastered the urge to submerge himself beneath the queen’s left palm. “No wonder you like it… so much.”Under her right, his bathing companion made no answer. Not an inch of him stirred.He looked—“So peaceful…”Yuichiro himself hadn’t slept since he became a vampire, and not for lack of trying, but Mikaela appeared indistinguishable from any soul who dozed off. “You awake…?” Guided by an impulse born of a cross between curiosity and mischief, his index finger was a hair’s breadth away, ready and aiming for his cheek, when Mikaela’s eyes snapped open.“S-Sorry!” Yuichiro yelped, “I didn’t mean to—”His object of interest, however, lived in the bathing’s room corner.“Arcanu.” “Arcanu…?” In the bunched-up hood of his cloak, the little creature stirred and wrestled out of fabric. It soared along the trails of steam before taking its beloved space on its owner’s shoulder.
“That thing was in your coat the whole time!?”
“Yes.”
“During the fight!?”
“It sleeps after a meal.”“… What does it even eat?”Mikaela brought his knees to his chest and watched the resulting ripples race across the water. “Anything will do.”Yuichiro squinted. “Like what?”Mikaela plucked a small crystal from the queen’s statue, no doubt cemented in place for thousands of years. Arcanu leaned forward when he lifted it toward its mouth. “Eat.” At this, its singular eye transformed into a large spiral of teeth, whose surface area far surpassed its little body. A tidal force accelerated one side of the peddle faster than the other, stretching it longer and thinner until it snapped at the center. The process repeated with each broken piece until they disappeared like ants marching into a colony. The crystal was but a memory, and Arcanu’s face returned to its original form.“Great! Got it! Thanks! Super informative! Never show me that again! Ever!” Yuichiro cried from the furthest corner of the bath. “No wonder Crowley wanted you to go away…” After a staring contest with Arcanu, he didn’t return to Mikaela’s side until it closed its eye. “Must be a nice guard dog, though. Is that why you have it?”“If need be.”“Hm…”After a brief consideration, Yuichiro patted his shoulder. “Then I’m glad it’s here!” This hand was scrutinized long enough for him to retreat into the depths of the bath, but then, Mikaela uttered a word so divorced from his lexicon Yuichiro had to double check who he addressed. “Yu.”“Huh—Yeah! What’s up, Mika?”“When you speak to me, I sense neither malice nor an ulterior motive.” Yuichiro parted his lips, but nothing came out.“You desire my company. You ask questions about myself that are impossible to answer. You address me with a shortened name, as though we were equals. You express this strange sentiment of ‘saving me. And now, out of consideration for my well being, you complimented Arcanu’s eating.”Yuichiro sank further in the bath, startled yet overwhelmed by a heart-throbbing greed to hear more.“What’s… your point?” He asked in a voice too meek to be his own.Mikaela drew closer, mimicking the way he joined their hands the evening of the performance. “An observation.”“Does it…” Yuichiro rummaged through every useless thought until he found, “bother you? Would it be better if I didn’t?” He expected silence, but Mikaela rewarded him with yet another response. “I have no grievances with your behavior, but I find you difficult to understand.” For moments, Yuichiro refused to say a word. Nothing would interrupt a moment so vivid and surreal, not even himself. But soon, his lips reunited into a smile, which grew into a grin, which blossomed into a sympathetic laugh. “Like you can talk! You never tell me what you’re thinking—”Mikaela silenced him at once by brushing his wet bangs from his face. He crimsoned not from the gentleness of this touch, but the realization of how natural, how correct it felt to receive it. “You fought Ky Luc with the knowledge he surpassed you in strength,” Mikaela continued, parsing out something deeper than motive. “You exposed yourself to the sun. All this, you claim, for my sake.”Yuichiro lowered his voice for reasons unknown. “‘Course I did. We’re—”“Your actions are absurd.”Not an ounce of power deviated from Mikaela’s cold, sharp eyes, but for the first time since they met, his speech trailed off. “I suppose that explains…”“Y-Yeah…?”“I knew nothing of boredom until you entered my life.”He may not have engaged with him with the enthusiasm—or contributed to a conversation with the ease—of Akane, but Mikaela still grew accustomed to his companionship. His absence grew noticeable.“Mika…”
‘Then you understand, no matter your intentions, a Yuichiro who despises him and one who doesn’t is all the same.’
A childish thought accompanied the happiness unfolding within him like a flower.
‘Even you must know vampires can’t grow to like anyone.’
He won. “Then it’s settled.”He cupped the back of Mikaela’s head and drew him so close their foreheads touched. “I’ll make sure to cause you more trouble,” He said softly. Mikaela relaxed against his touch, the proximity of his scent lulling Yuichiro into a tranquility slumber itself couldn’t give. Brow to brow, they sat in silence so comforting he failed to recognize the creak of an open door. “Having fun?” A disembodied voice shouted from across the bath. “Ack!”The stream flowing from the queen’s palms doused him anew when he threw himself from Mikaela’s personal space. Crowley grinned from ear to ear from afar, towels hanging off one arm and fresh clothes for Mikaela off the other. “When did you…!? Mika, did you notice—”In the vast expanse of the bath, he was alone.“…”No one sat next to him.
“Mika—!?”
“Check below,” came another shout from one accustomed to the prince’s bathing habits.Yuichiro looked downward, and there he was, under the water, curled in a fetal position, and eyes shut as though he were fast asleep. “That’s his favorite part. I guess his noisy progeny kept him above the surface too long.” Mikaela’s hair bobbed gently against the currents, his face as still as a doll’s. When Yuichiro ran his fingers through it, the sensation paralleled that of a clear stream.“Ah…” “Let’s give him a few minutes,” Crowley offered, motioning him forward.He hesitated, but after his pat on Mikaela’s shoulder went ignored, he leaned over his family, his lips almost touching the water, and promised a quick return.“As for you…” Crowley said once Yuichiro finished trekking across the bath. “Is it time, Lord Crowley!?” A voice honeyed and mousy appealed from outside the door. “Indeed! Enter.”At this, Chess and Horn burst into the room and made a beeline toward the edge of the bath. “Wha—What the hell are you doing here!?” “You have embarrassed His Royal Highness for the last time in those human rags,” Horn declared, gesturing to the sad, soggy, bloody bundle that long since collapsed to the floor. Chess nodded, giving his wrist another tug. “That’s right, Yu Araidust! If you’re the progeny of Prince Illustrious, dress like it! Have you no manners!?”“I’m not hearing that from you of all people!”“Hope you don’t mind I enlisted them,” Crowley said, slipping a pocket-sized book from his coat. “Horn informed me she made attire for you as well.”“While I do not care for Lord Ferid, he’s correct in this matter. Traditional vampire garb has no place on your body.”“Do I get a say in this!?” Yuichiro asked as they fished him out of the water—arms first. The moment he stumbled onto the ledge, however, they froze, gazes fixated upon his neck. “… What?” This meager question broke their contemplative lull. After exchanging a glance, they shrugged it off with a mutual “Nothing.”“A-Anyway!” Chess stammered, “We’ll be taking care of him now, Lord Crowley!”He waved without looking up from his book. “Uh huh. Counting on you!” A large towel enveloped Yuichiro’s back, one that swallowed his frame like a blanket. With a final, desperate glance over his shoulder and the threshold, he yelled, “Tell Mika where I went!”“The sooner you cooperate, the faster you will reunite with His Royal Highness,” Horn said cooly. “In the meantime, I tire of the aesthetic Lord Ferid inflicted upon you.” Yuichiro freed a hand to wipe his dripping brow. The squelch of his footsteps against the tile blended well with the fat drops of rain splattering across the roof. “It’s not ‘Ferid’s’ aesthetic! It’s mine!” That in itself wasn’t true. Guren ‘inflicted’ him with his fashion choices, and attributing the taste to anyone else was unthinkable—a sin he corrected no matter how esoteric his reasoning. “… For what reason do you still have a bed?” Horn asked once they entered his chamber. “Don’t ask me! I woke up and—”“Nevermind her!” Chess waved off, herding him to the vanity. “You’ll look amazing when we’re finished with you!” “Wow. It’s like you’re having fun.”Ignoring him, she yanked the towel off Yuichiro’s body and freed him from the remaining water droplets upon his skin. But there to confine it once more was Horn, holding up a familiar thick pair of tights.“Well?” He let out a groan the length of a sentence and tried not to stumble when she pulled them up his legs. “There are standards of presentation that befall an Illustrious. It’d behoove you to follow them,” Horn emphasized yet again when she fastened the buttons in his white pants. “Since when was I ‘an Illustrious!?’”Chess gave vent to a nervous little laugh, helping him shrug into a black collared dress shirt. “You’re the treasure of one.” An embellished white jacket followed. “Isn’t that reason enough?”“There’s nothing wrong with them! And besides! Mika isn’t one of you! He doesn’t care about that kind of—thing!”Horn tugged the belt around his waist so tight he yelped, and the cape Chess hovered above his arm slipped from her fingers. “… ‘Mika?’” Yuichiro blushed. “Ah… that’s what I call—”“Of course,” She muttered.Chess retrieved his cape from the floor and draped it onto his right shoulder. “It’s so obvious now.”“What’s that mean!?”“I wonder…” Horn mused, securing it with a ribbon wrapped around his chest, joined with a neat little bow. “Is he poisonous?”“H-Hold it…!”“Who’d wanna find out? You’d have to have a death wish to drink from him—”Yuichiro shoved their hands off his person and cried, “Stop talking over my head! What are you even saying!?”Their whispers vanished; Chess donned a hurriedly pasted-on smile.“Don’t worry about it!” She spun him around and thrust open the vanity. “Ta da! Much better, is it not?”“It’s quite the improvement,” Horn agreed.Yuichiro took in his reflection from different angles, blinked, and looked again. “I guess it’ll do for now,” he intoned, “until I get Ferid to make my old—”“Lord Ferid will do nothing of the sort!”They crowded him at once, forcing him into boots tall enough to clutch his thighs.
“Would it kill you to be less rough!?”
“You shut up! Your clothes are this pretty and you want it to be temporary!?” Chess yelled, yanking his new gloves down his wrist. “I told you I don’t care!” “Have you no appreciation for the elegance of linen!? The classiness of a crisp fabric!? I hand stitched the vampire insignia-stitched into the collar!”“The theatrical flair of your shoulder cape!? The lining across the lapels!?”“Above everything these—!”“And the best, best part—!”“It takes after Lord Crowley!” they finished in unison.“… Shoulda known,” Yuichiro sighed, creating distance between he and Chess’s face by pushing her forehead. “Is liking Crowley the only way you two get along?”“Yep!”“It appears so.” Yuichiro rolled his eyes and returned to the mirror. “‘Treasure, huh…?”To replace the gift of his caretaker didn’t hurt as much as it once did. In a bloodsucker’s den closed off from the outside world, it no longer served as his sole attachment to home or personhood. He had Akane. His appetite for human blood continued to dwindle. Despite his fangs and elongated ears, with every consumption of his sire’s blood, humanity shone through his face all the brighter. Even more important…“Okay, okay,” he chuckled.An Illustrious was his family. “I’ll wear it.”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

“… Bathory’s Crème Dentifrice?”Courtesy of Crowley Eusford, a tube boasting obnoxious calligraphy blocked the upcoming paragraph in Mikaela and Yuichiro’s book.The plaque beneath the official Illustrious portrait would be smitten, if not intimidated, by each letter. Ascending and descending loops, flags, tails, feathering curves—sacrificed legibility for the sake of artistic typology.“Impressive, isn’t it? He can run around the kingdom and still order a vampire to deliver this.” He reached into his pocket and slipped out a numbered list. “Now I can accomplish step five of his His Royal Highness’s routine, right after ‘brush each section of his hair fifty times’ and ‘gloss his nails with lacquer.’Free of the embarrassment one expected from a person whose private matters were read aloud, Mikaela found greater interest in the reference book strewn across his and Yuichiro’s lap. Upon entering the library, the latter proposed a game in which they’d separate, choose two or three volumes from the hundreds of thousands stacked along the room’s five decorative tiers, and meet up in a reading nook.With its cathedral-like atrium, marble floors, and walls wrought with iron details, its eye-roll-worthy, over-the-top decadence befitted the estate.This tiresome predictability, however, veered into reassuring familiarity in Yuichiro’s brain.  A comfortable given. A staple of home. Not his home of course, but his family’s.The arrival of Mikaela’s stand-in servant could only mean the end of their playtime, but Yuichiro ignored this sign, handed back his dentifrice, and returned to his paragraph.Mikaela’s first choice—Karr’s Atlas of Taste: The Essentials for Better Blood Drinking—felt typical, but on second thought, what else captured his interest?While Yuichiro held the left side of the book between his thumb and forefinger, Mikaela held the right, granting him the privilege of turning the page. He did so with scant consideration of whether Yuichiro finished reading, but he didn’t care.They’d progressed halfway through the introduction, which promised an immersive course on the effects of age, gender, and sociobiological status in humans. Lucal ‘Quintus Decimus’ Wesker, renowned blood gourmet, argued the importance of antigens as well, but a consensus had yet to be reached among the progenitor council.To stall, Yuichiro asked, “How long is that thing?”“Not too involved. Nineteen items.”
“Nineteen!?”
Crowley leaned on the ornate loveseat’s left arm and snagged a book for himself.  “At least it’s something to do while the humans prepare his blood. ‘Gradually warm to 38 degrees celsius, pour slowly into my signature kettle, add a spoonful of an alpha vampire’s, et cetera, et cetera.’”Yuichiro frowned. “Guess it makes sense if you’re a vampire. Doing his morning routine in the evening.”He didn’t expect the laughter that followed.“No no, this is his pre-meal routine. His Royal Highness needs to be fresh and relaxed before dining.”
“How ‘un-fresh’ could he be in a few hours!?”
To drink in the prince's company wasn’t even allowed. Were the five seconds he took to greet and dismiss them worth such hefty prep work?“Forget that stupid list! Mika and I can stay here if you need the down time! Right, Mika?”Mikaela’s eyes remained on the page. Either his offer to keep reading or the footnote on ‘full bodied blood’ narrowed his pupils to a slit.Until he reclaimed his free hand, Yuichiro didn't notice he hadn’t held it so much as clamped his fingers around it like a trap—not unlike Akane when he annoyed her or she wanted to play.“Oh… sorry.”To his surprise, Mikaela huddled closer without losing a shred of focus.Another page turn.The more Yuichiro took the time to observe him, the more invested he became—not to peel apart his intentions, but to get to know his family. The language in his eyes grew less elusive. Their mannerisms were fun to compare.Crowley reclaimed his attention (and sent hot blood to his cheeks) by clearing his throat.“Rules are rules.”“‘Rules?’” Yuichiro sneered, “If it was that serious, he would’ve come back sooner!”Not that he longed to see Mikaela near his so-called servant any time soon.Sharing his line of reasoning, Crowley warned, “Don’t jinx it. He might show up behind us. Though…”He smiled and used his directions as a bookmark.“There is something in here for you today.”Yuichiro made it a principle to keep any signs of curiosity off his face in the presence of Ferid and Ferid-adjacent information. He threw in a dirty look for good measure.“Lemme guess—““A glass of my master’s blood should be prepared for his beloved progeny—”“That bastard! He can’t promise that without asking what Mika thinks!”“On the contrary, His Royal Highness shed blood for you this afternoon.”Yuichiro stole a glance at Mikaela who, at last, found a part of their conversation worthy of his input. He freed their laps and set Karr’s magnum opus on the floor.“You expressed disinterest in human blood, and you prefer my own.”His knack for pointing out the obvious always painted Yuichiro’s perplexities as a waste of thought. As was customary when bashfulness took hold of him, Yuichiro rubbed the back of his neck.“Sure… thanks.”Their exchanged glance would’ve lasted forever if Crowley hadn’t offered his open palm. When his prince rose to his feet, he bowed.“We’ll see you at dinner.”  “‘Kay… bye, Mika.”“Farewell.”Indeed, Yuichiro thought with a sigh of relief, their unified stride far surpassed Ferid’s slither behind Mikaela’s back.On the other hand, he couldn’t help but notice the change in his pupils when he stared at Crowley. They grew larger, more relaxed than when Mikaela looked at him.Whatever that meant.With their departure came his floating sense of unease in its unrivaled punctuality. For Mikaela to profess his newfound boredom without his presence, lacking any of the emotion such a lonely statement entailed…Their time together seldom felt like enough.Deprived of a pre-meal routine of his own, he returned to the love seat and the results of their game. Picking Mikaela’s brain had been his intention from the start, so he chose the second volume from his collection.Surely they all weren’t about blood.“…”
Beyond Flavour: The Indispensable Handbook to Blood Tasting.

Sanguinem Haematology Vol. 1: The Gourmet Encyclopedia (200th edition)

Sanguinem Haematology Vol. 2: Recent History, Rarities & Much More
“… Handbook it is.”“Do you know? Do you know? Have you heard the news?”The airy girlishness of the disembodied voice, decidedly forced, lacked the ever-present bloodlust in Chess’s.Only one person lurked in the neighboring row.“Prince Illustrious has been acting strange lately!”Hiding the side of her face with a book too small to conceal it, Akane whispered into her invisible gossip partner’s ear.“Strange?” She asked in a different tone. Her 'companion' sounded like herself with a cold.“Bizarre! Ever since he started hanging out with that one vampire. Have you seen him?”Yuichiro rolled his eyes.“The one clinging to him all the time?” Akane’s ghostly friend offered.“Yes, yes! The one who makes goo-goo eyes at him and snuggles with him! What’s his name?”“Oh dear, I can’t recall! Yu-mi-chiro? Yu-kikyo—”“Yuichiro Ariadust?”
“Bwah!”
Akane’s flailed into the bookshelf with a death-drip on her heaving chest. Her glare pierced him from below, for he strolled atop the ceiling upside down.
“How rude! I could’ve had a heart attack!”
“Then don’t spy on me!”“Geh. Heh heh heh.” She pseudo-laughed, flipping her ponytail over her shoulder. “Is that how you thank the woman protecting you?”Yuichiro landed on his feet. “And what danger was I in?”“Picture this!” Akane grabbed a volume from the shelf and pretended to recite its words. “I’m a young girl with a broken heart. I watch from afar as another maiden seduces the one I’ve loved. I heal my sorrow by making sure he’s safe around a back-stabbing home wrecker.”“A what!? That’s protecting Mika, not me!”“You’re right. Another justification—““Uh huh.”“The needle in my heart’s compass always points in our prince’s direction.”“That’s as unhelpful as your last one! How long were you watching me!?”“I never stop.”When she flashed her signature, unrelenting grin, a symbol of refusal, it was up to him to get their conversation back on track.“Akane.”“Yu?”She’d insisted on using a nickname after learning the milestone between him and Mikaela. Yuichiro had emphatically turned down ‘Ichiro’—an arbitrary scheme to complement her friend with the name ‘Chihiro—and 'Ro' so she settled for ‘Yu.’“It’s dinner time.”“Sure is.”“So why aren’t you working?”At the gradual collapse of her smile, the drop of her gaze which escaped to her feet, whatever irritation (and even this was too strong of a word) took place in Yuichiro subsided at once.To end their game—not gouge her emotional wounds—was all he wanted.“Akane…?”Her arms pinned against her stomach. “Because I… I can’t face them! Not anymore!”Yuichiro’s heart sank.Regardless of how long she’d been a maid, there had to be days where a dining hall full of vampires became a minefield of dreadful occurrences, where a single evening provided enough material for a thousand nightmares.Given that, his question bordered on insensitive.  “… Sorry,” He said softly, giving her shoulder a firm squeeze. “Must be hard sometimes, huh?”Akane let their eyes meet again and earned Yuichiro’s reassuring smile.“Believe it or not, I’ve been having trouble facing vampires, too—““Vampires?”Yuichiro tilted his head.“Isn’t that… what you’re talking about?”“Um…”Evidently, Yuichiro wasn’t alone in picking up his friend’s mannerisms, for Akane’s nervous fiddling of her ponytail had been replaced by his signature rub on the neck.“My bad. I meant my coworkers.”“What!?”“Aw, I should’ve played along. You’re irresistible when you feel sorry for me.”“That’s a dangerous standard for love! Get rid of it for your own sake!”No.She wouldn’t sidestep the issue.“Okay, no. Talk. What happened this time?”Akane plopped on her respective reading nook’s chair and smoothed out her skirt.“We’re supposed to deep-clean the kitchenware on the first of every month. It’s this big thing where we wake up at dawn and scrub ‘till dusk! And the kitchen is super busy because there’s fewer people serving the vampires—““The first…?”“That’s right.”Silence reigned, then Yuichiro shook his head.“N-No, sorry.” In Crowley’s fashion, he joined her by sitting on the arm rest. "Keep going…”When had August spilled into September? At what point did he gain enough comfort in his surroundings, with his ‘peers,’ that he no longer kept track of the date like a prisoner etching tallies into the walls?
‘Was it… when Mika and I…’
Akane did as requested, somewhat disappointed, he could tell, that she’d missed an opportunity to digress.“Anyway, I asked Chihiro to wake me up—”“Mhm.”“But I was soooo sleepy because one of my best friends is nocturnal and blabbed about his precious prince all night.”“You begged me to talk about Mika! I had to drag you to bed!”“… That’s not the point! How’s the old saying go? Being early is on time, on-time is late, and if you’re late, you might as well not show up at all? I got up so late that I didn’t show up!”“I doubt that’s supposed to be literal!”“Irregardless, I flaked. And I bet they can’t stand the thought of me…”“So now you’re hiding in here?”Akane brought her knees to her chest.“Akane? I’m asking.”“Oh, who cares! It’s just one day of missing out! Ako can take charge! C’mere, let’s read Prince Illustrious’s books—”With the sympathetic scoff of an older sibling, Yuichiro held out his hand.“No way. If you can handle running an illegal blood bank in a cellar, you can handle your friends.”“That’s different.”“Exactly. A blood bank is worse.”Lungs emptied of a long, low sigh, Akane’s palm hovered inches above Yuichiro’s before an abrupt realization returned it to her lap.“Wait a second! Why aren’t you facing the vampires!?”“Um…!”The newfound power she welded guided her off the arm chair. She wore his least favorite smile—the one promising his ridicule—and encircled him like a buzzard.“Don’t be shy. Tell me. Tell your good friend Akane.”The floor found a new companion in Yuichiro’s gaze, and his confession was but a mumble.“They… look at me funny.”Her face aglow with girlish curiosity, she beckoned him from the dim light of the gas lamps to the skylight at the heart of the library.“Hm… could it be your outfit?”“Be serious…” He shoved his fingers into his pocket, embarrassed by the confirmation of how he took Mikaela’s hand.“It’s not like I care what they think. But it’s starting to creep me out.”Lacus steered clear of him during sparring matches. Chess and Horn became fidgety. The rest of the vampires, save for Mikaela and Crowley, stabbed him with the daggers that were their stares.“I’m not sitting through an entire meal of that…”Akane held her chin.“I’ve got it!” She cried moments later, “Listen, if you go to dinner, I go to work. And if it’s too much for both of us…”Sheltering Yuichiro’s hands with her own, she offered her most vibrant grin."We’ll run away and never look back! Deal?”Yuichiro beamed.“Deal!”“Besides, don’t you have the prince’s blood to look forward to? Did I hear that right? Wow! You’re blushing—!”
“Can we leave already!?”
They’d left the library arm-in-arm, refusing to unravel their limbs until they stood before the notorious doorway.“‘Kay!” Yuichiro exhaled.“Here we go…!”Likening themselves to lord to servant (for their companionship would only draw more attention), Akane bowed as Yuichiro crossed the threshold.And in a similar vein to lunch time, the moment Yuichiro walked in, eyes dreadful, sharp, and beseeching, turned toward him. Akane made a flat plane of her hand, shielding her vision of their faces as she did the sun, but the floor gave her equal unease.“If they killed me… it wouldn’t show on the carpet.”True. Chess had told Yuichiro the other day that, blood being their exclusive meal, Ferid requested a dye to match.“I’ll be the dinner special. What’s one maid? There’s more where we came from.”“I’d stop them. Do your best!” He said with a firm slap on her back.That is to say, his gentlest pat for a human.Despite the smile she dragged the corners of her mouth to make, she kept her head low as she scurried into the adjoining kitchen.Yelling followed.Now it was his turn to be brave.Late as he was, the number of empty chairs were sparse, and he was in no hurry to be with a vampire other than Mikaela.But in this environment, the chair Chess pulled out for him when their gazes met was a godsend.“Hey…” He said amidst the whispers, greeting the familiar scent of blood and roses upon installing himself at the table.Chess drummed her fingers along the neck of her glass. “G-Good evening.”“What's up? How've you been?”Not the best opener for small talk, but his purpose was deeper than conversation.“Peachy,” She replied, laying their discussion to rest.Yuichiro narrowed his eyes.
‘Fine. Time for more drastic measures.’
He raised his hand for the maid closest to him, the one who cast a death glare at Akane.“Hey! A glass of blood please!”She trotted toward him and finished her journey with a curtsy.“Ah, Lord Yuichiro. Lord Crowley informed us of your customized order.”“I want another glass before that. A male, however old you think Lord Crowley is!”Chess took the bait flawlessly. Though she said little, the moment Akane returned with his request (she must have jumped on the opportunity to abandon her supervisor), nowhere else did her eyes stray.“Thanks, human.”Akane suppressed a snicker and bowed.Not a swallow passed his lips, however. The full glass remained on the table as he hummed away, played with the petals before him, and, to his amusement, watched as Chess squirmed in her seat.“Finished already?” He asked, encircling his fingers along the rim of her empty glass.Chess gulped.“I am…”“Yeah… I thought I wanted this, but now I’m not so sure.”He held it in the air, garnering the attention of other vampires. Their brows arched in a similar fashion to Guren’s when he had played with his food.“Whatcha think I should do with it?”Bottom lip quivering, she answered with a pathetic, “Who… Who’s to say…?”“Guess I’ll dump it in the flowers here—“
“You better not!”
A hair’s breadth separated her hand and the glass when Yuichiro swung it out of her reach. Droplets stained the table cloth.“Tell me everything and it’s yours.”“Whatever do you mean!?” She demanded beneath his palm. Yuichiro had smacked against her face upon her second lunge.“Why is everyone treating me so weird!? Including you!”“… I haven’t a clue—“He tilted the blood above a vase.
“Okay, okay!”
Yuichiro grinned in satisfaction and set the glass on the table, his fingers affixed on the neck.“Well…?”“Well, what? Hand it over!”
“Tell me first!”
Chess puffed out her cheeks.“It’s…” She studied him for a while, and an expression akin to wariness crossed her features. Unlike Akane’s aimless scrutiny in the library, she zeroed in on something tangible, albeit invisible.“… Your smell. It’s how you smell.”“Huh!? What’s that mean!?”His follow up question, despite its reasonableness, made her particularly uncomfortable.“Prince Illustrious… his scent is all over you.”“…”Mikaela’s blood had a magnetizing fragrance, and if such an aroma emanated from his person, then he’d pick up on it.Perhaps he’d grown too accustomed to its presence, but if that were the case, Chess had spent decades doing the same.“… No way! I don’t smell anything!”“Naturally.”“… Is it that bad?”“Scary.”Brows knit, Yuichiro drew closer. Chess reeled just as far.“‘Scary’ isn’t a smell.”“I can’t describe it any other way. Prince Illustrious smells wonderful. But on you… it’s bad.” She forced each word, as though piecing together her conclusion in real time.Yuichiro surveyed the other vampires. They’d gone back to drinking, a few exchanging empty conversation, but unease still radiated from their bodies.“It’s awful smelling you.”Dazed, Chess snagged his glass of blood with little resistance. She devoured it with all possible haste, eliminating her thirst and his interrogation leverage.“Interesting…”Yuichiro spun in his seat, and there Akane had remained.
“You’re still here!?”
“Told you I'm always watching. Meeting time.”Her tug on his sleeve guided him from the table, and the two scurried into a far-off corner in the dining hall. In the fashion of their usual privatized, Mikaela-related conversations, they hid behind the curtains of a heavily draped window.They reserved an uncovered window for the dreariest of rainy days, for even the late sunset proved irksome.A coworker of Akane’s affected a great scowl at her escape, which, besides the small whimper in her throat, she pretended not to notice.“Okay, I see what’s going on,” She whispered, though they’d ruin their attempt at inconspicuousness in due time. “Undo your collar.”Swept up in confusion, he obeyed without the usual pushback he expected from himself.“Good. Now pull it down. Lower. Lower. Little more—”“I’m gonna mess up my shirt again—!”“There.”She fished the cleanest spoon he’d ever seen out of her pocket (indeed, their deep cleaning regimen was something to be feared) and aimed directly at the junction of his neck and shoulder.“Ta da.”On his skin lay a couple of perfect circles. Their size matched Mikaela’s fangs to perfection; their angle denoted their position on the parlor’s sofa.
“What the hell!?”
Cheeks flushed, he tugged up his collar and fumbled the buttons closed.“A-Aren’t bites supposed to heal after a few seconds!?”Mikaela’s did.Akane made a ‘tsk, tsk’ sound through her teeth.“You’re clueless about what happened, aren’t ya?”
“Don’t use that line when you weren’t there!”
The drapes brushing against his leg alerted him to his surroundings, enough to embarrass him but not enough to reel in his voice.“I-I got into this fight in the theater! I was all banged up! And Mika drank my blood to save me!”“Theater…?”Akane paused.“That was you!?” She shouted, jabbing a finger at his chest. “Do you have any idea how devastated the band, the conductor, the dancers—everyone was that you ruined their play!?”“It’s not my fault! It wasn’t! I was thrown!”“I don’t want to hear it! That whole section downstairs is closed off! I met one of the ballet dancers, by the way! Taichi was crushed! He worked his butt off to get the role of the prince!”
“Ky Luc! Mika! Be mad at them!”
“Whatever…” She expelled the rest of her anger in a harsh breath. “Anyway! If he drank your blood, he definitely marked you at the same time.”“Marked?”The word had a vague yet consistent presence in his life, through the bemoaning whispers of his mother, the intoxicated boasting of his father, and in the sarcastic letters passed along from Prince Hiragi to his caretaker.“Y-You’ve got it all wrong!” He cried, cheeks burning and gesticulating more than necessary. “W-What makes you an expert on what he was and wasn’t doing!?”“Ha!”Too much conviction lived in that laugh. It bordered on triumph.“I may suck at Latin, but who doesn't know something as basic as vampire studies!?”“Urk.”Her poor language skills had been a comfort on the back of Kimizuki and Guren’s awful quips, one he didn’t realize he had. To discover her competence in other areas was to lose an ally.  “Still… isn’t ‘marking’ something that…”He frowned at the mental image of his father.“… ‘Mates’ do?”“For humans,” Akane corrected, “For his kind, it’s way more special than that.”When all she received an expression bright and bewildered, she continued with glee.“Safeguarding prey doesn’t occur to vampires like him. They’re going to drink an alpha the day they meet them.”Her words brought him to the past, the morning he stood before Mikaela and accused him of ‘saving him for later’—yet another instance he got him all wrong.Akane patted his chest as though she beheld a juggernaut in innovative technology.“Drink him and die, your scent says. Yep, you’re marked territory all right! That almost never happens with a latrodectus!”
‘There is no reason for him to harm you.’
So that’s what he meant.His very scent promised death to any omega who dared approach him. A regular vampire reeled even more so.How could Mikaela had done such a grandiose gesture of protection without so much as mentioning it?“… What am I going to do with you?” Yuichiro sighed.Akane brought him back to the present with a gentle tug on his collar.“Congratulations. He must've been really desperate to keep you.”"Desperate…"He tested such a heavy word on his lips, correlated it with the image of Mikaela in his head. "Was Mika scared for me…?"A muffled cry from afar derailed Yuichiro’s train of thought.“Do you hear something…?”The question left his lips at the same time he considered the drastic deviation in their hearing levels, but to his surprise, Akane turned in its exact direction.“I do!”She closed her eyes and cupped the back of her ears.“It sounds like someone’s…”“Crying?”Just then, the entrance blew open, robbing the attention of vampire and human alike. An intruder in unfamiliar garb marauded the dining hall, bringing with him an anxious fury that rivaled the subsequent bloodlust engulfing the room.His hood cast a thick shadow under the chandelier’s light, but the endless stream of tears, soaking his cheeks and dripping off his chin, bore an ominous shimmer. Trembles wracked his frame. His every breath was a sob.His inquiry was a scream that rattled the blood in their glasses.
“Where is the servant of Illustrious!?”

“Please! I told you humans can’t barge into the dining hall!”
Yuichiro knew that voice.Clinging around the intruder's waist were the exhausted arms of Guren’s old friend. A failed restraint. It seemed he'd been dragged along the floor. Sweat beaded on his brow and fell to the tip of his goatee.   
“Goshi!?”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

The intruder’s body paled in comparison to the intensity of his voice. After two steps, he clutched his chest and heaved. Head bent, his hood cast a deeper shadow on his face. Trembles made a mess of his frame as if a simple poke would send him on his back.“You know that guy…?” Akane whispered into Yuichiro’s shoulder cape.“Yeah… He’s Guren’s friend—”“You forget yourself, human. I’d heed your companion’s warning.”A vampire at the table, whose countenance denoted a disciple of Ferid Bathory’s aesthetics, rose from his seat with an empty glass in hand.“What insolence compelled you to barge into our dining hall and request the whereabouts of a noble—”
“Silence! I have no business with you!”
Now the whole chamber stirred with irritation and nervous exhaustion. Stares grew more sinister, and no longer was the self-appointed representative of the estate’s residents the only one who got up from his seat.“Nonsense, all of it!”“Hush! Let Fuola Honte speak!”Amusement brightened Chess’s face, however, as she gained a better view of the ‘presentation.’Chin tilted upward in contempt, Fuola asserted, “You must not be interested in living very long—”
“I said shut up!”

“Miserable human wretch!”
Losing his grip by a harsh elbow to the nose, Norito’s head slammed into the door while the mysterious intruder lunged at his adversary. The resulting rumble spilled soil from a hanging basket of roses onto the floor.
“Damn it!”
Yuichiro threw himself into action. Out-pacing Fuola by strides, he leapt between him and the intruder before the former could unseath his blade.In the corner of his eye, Akane rushed over to Norito’s aide, offering him a weak smile of reassurance. Chihiro whisper-screamed from afar for her to escape to the kitchen, to which she refused.But the moment his caretaker’s old friend raised his head, he jerked back with nothing short of a shock upon meeting their gazes. Alarming self-consciousness roused in his breast, but he suppressed it with a hard swallow.These seconds lasted minutes in his mind.“Are you crazy!?” He yelled, quelling the urge begging him to mask his face before Norito. He’d pinpoint his attention toward the frail creature before him.
“Why pick a fight with a bloodsucker!?”
“Out of my way! I’ll take care of this human myself!”
“No! There’s no need to attack him!”
For a moment, Yuichiro also flinched at how promptly Fuola lurched when he threw a glance over his shoulder. Fear, he observed, or a vampiric approximation of a survival instinct, colored his ashen face, and he took a begrudged step backward.“Just like a weirdo to stick his neck out for livestock,” He overheard Lacus mumble.“Is he familiar with that one, too? He knew the tethered human’s name,” Chess gossiped back.The intruder held onto his throat, and his knees threatened to give in any moment.“Worthless… all of you. I want…”“Hey…” Yuichiro said, concern honeying his voice. “Let’s get you out of here. Whatever you need, maybe I can help—”
“Don’t touch me!”
His scream was shrill, and the arm he snatched away knocked his hood backward, revealing a pair of red, luminous eyes. Free from its shadows, his fangs caught the light as well.“W-What…? You’re—”“He smelled like a human,” Fuola asserted, “I’m sure of it.”The only vampire Yuichiro had ever seen cry—not including Ferid’s gallery—was himself. So sure was he that fighting back ensured death for the ‘sickly human’ before him he had avoided any harsh movements.The chatter rippling through the dining hall drowned his follow-up question.“State your faction! Do you belong with the Illustrious estate!?”“His lack of civility remains! What grounds have you to speak with an aide of Prince Mikaela ‘Octavus Sator’ Illustrious!?”“Is he an eccentric!? Such hysterics are human behavior!”“Nonsense. He puts on a show. Return to your blood.”“Blood… I need…” was the only answer the intruder mustered from his lips.Amidst their speculations about his tears, his odd display, and his desperation, Chess sighed, “That explains it. Who’d be dumb enough to come in here who isn’t a blood maiden?”She must have peered at the young girls he sensed peeking from the opening to the kitchen, for gowns swept against the floor as they whimpered away.When he and the intruder finally met eyes, his were as widened as Yuichiro’s. He grabbed his arm, cradled it like an infant with prolonged, blissful gurgling.“Finally… finally…”“What’s wrong with you…?”“Listen!” Akane pleaded, “If you’re thirsty, then we can get you something to drink—!”
“Silence, human!”
She and Norito flinched at his gaze, but neither of them cowered.He, too, they could stand the sight of.“It’s here… This is where he kept it…”Despite her rejection to do the same, Akane screamed for Yuichiro to run away with her eyes, but he remained still. The intruder’s weeping, his mysterious idolatry, the obsession, left him equally morbidly intrigued and disgusted.“Whatever you mean, I have nothing to do with it…”Delirious, the intruder slurred his conclusions.“I was right… Ferid has another source. It’s you. You’re what he’s been hiding from me. You understand my suffering. How do you stand it? How have you gained his favor!?”He swayed in a drunk man’s fashion. The fingers gripping onto Yuichiro’s arm had a violent quiver about them.
“I said I don’t know what you’re saying!”

“Liar! You hoarded Mikaela’s blood for yourself! You all did!”
“Mika!?”He earned no elaboration, only a scream and a tighter grip of his forearm he escaped with little effort but returned to multiple times. Exhausted of their push-and-pull, the intruder pulled a knife from a sheath on his hip. Its blade bore his reflection when it passed.
“One sip and nothing more! That I swear! If I could get a taste of it—!”

“Let me go! Stop!”

“Give me his blood!”
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”The world grew still. Stepping into the dining hall—his signature silver locks not tied back but waterfalling past his shoulders, in garments much more dark and subdued than Yuichiro was accustomed—was Ferid ‘Septimus Sator’ Bathory.The vampire congregation bowed and curtsied with haste. Chess started off the eerie ring of their evening greeting.“There’s no need for such formalities,” Ferid dismissed. He gifted a loathly smirk to Akane and Norito, perhaps for the fun of seeing them squirm.
“Ferid!? Where the hell have you been!?”
“So this is where you’ve run off to, Shahar,” He sang, not answering Yuichiro’s question.‘Shahar,’ after such a violent accusal of treachery, pulled Yuichiro close like a newfound treasure.“He doesn’t have the blood you seek. No one here does. Come, you’re in no condition to fight. You’d be better off staying away from him.”He spoke with an unquestionable authority that he brought Shahar to tears. The anguished, tight-necked shakes of his head brushed his golden locks against Yuichiro’s cheek.“No…”“Don’t you understand?” Ferid tried again, growing even more giddy the deeper his words plunged him into despair. “Your Mikaela is dead. Only Mikaela Illustrious lives here—”
“You’re lying!”
A screech unlike any Yuichiro had heard rattled the entire dining hall. Weaker glass shattered onto the floor. Akane scrunched into a miserable ball, and Norito sheltered her in his arms.
“You’ve hidden it! You’ve hidden it in this body! And I’m taking it back!”
“Careful, Yuichiro dear. You’re going to kill him.”
“Huh!? No I wouldn’t—!”
A sharp cut brandished Yuichiro’s cheek, one without pain that vanished seconds later. His blood decorating Shahar’s blade alone betrayed this action. Basking in ecstasy, he slurped along the edge of the knife and gashed the corners of his mouth.
“Hey—!”
His grin was red, his lips and teeth stained with his blood. But a surge of his own bubbled up his throat and overflowed past his chin. His eyes grew clouded. A cough, and he fell to his knees.“It’s wrong…” He choked, holding his nose as blood oozed from his nostrils. His ear canals followed.“It’s wrong. It’s wrong! It’s not… how is it wrong!?”“What the!? What’s happening!?”His inquiries were punctuated by Ferid’s laughter.“Didn’t I tell you before?” He asked, retrieving Yuichiro with an agile tug of his shoulder. “This vampire will not save you.”Shahar pleaded incoherently at Yuichiro, his audience, the girls who dared to resume watching along the threshold of the kitchen. He attempted to stand and failed.“N-No… the taste isn’t right…”He held his stomach, but his emotional distress appeared more harmful than his convulsions.“We need to save him!” Yuichiro shouted at last. He dropped to his knees and hoped his rough shaking sustained his consciousness.“Alas,” Ferid pretended to sigh, gaiety still present in his voice, “The blood of one marked by a latrodectus is poisonous to all else who drink it.”Yuichiro’s hand froze. Before him lay an example Chess and Horns whispers of death wishes. The former’s profile was hidden behind the veil of her locks, for she, and many of the congregation, continued bowing in dread-ridden respect for their prince’s aide.“It’s not right…” Shahar sobbed, his face a mess of blood and tears dripping onto the carpet unseen. The hand reaching out to Ferid was forsaken and collapsed onto his chest.The source of his betrayal licked his lips. “How lucky. I was planning to get rid of you myself, but death-by-venom is far more convenient.”“But the smell… but it’s wrong…”“Of course. Unlike my dear friend here, a fake cannot satiate someone who’s had the real thing.”Yuichiro jumped to his feet at once.
“Stop going on about nothing! You can’t stand there and watch him die! His organs are dissolving! We need—”
He paused and cupped his hands around his mouth.
“Mika!? Mika—!”
Another victim of Ferid’s intrusive mockery, he scowled when the punch he threw was caught in his hand.“How precious. Haven’t you gotten to know my master by now?”
“‘Course I did! He saved me when—”
“Yes. You,” Ferid acknowledged. His brows rose, and his gruesome grin softened into a smile that befitted a parent scolding his child.“If the prince discerns the well-being of his beloved princess, do you think he’ll care enough to interfere?”No.He wouldn’t.A sense of uselessness made Yuichiro’s heart sink as he blurted out the only counter-argument at his disposal.
“But he’s in danger! We have to—”
“Let me die, vampire…”The voice was raspy, belonging to a husk on the ground whose head rested in a mixture of blood and liquified entrails.
“Idiot! Don’t say things like that!”
“You foolish boy… what life is there for me… in this miserable state.” He summoned the last of his strength to bring his face toward Yuichiro’s.“I’ve gone too long without his blood. If I can’t… if Mikaela no longer exists… then—”
“Wait!”
Each cell in Shahar’s body disintegrated into the remains of glowing, hot coal after a fire. The ash rose as particles of light. His spilled blood evaporated soon after.A silence morose and contemplative reigned until Ferid gave a rousing clap of his hands.“Pardon the intrusion, everyone. I was searching for a lost project. You there!” He thrusted his finger towards a poor soul leaning from the kitchen. “Clean this up!”The victim of her own curiosities averted her teary eyes and retreated past the threshold.“Well then! As you were.”Beneath the blanket farewell in the same tone as their greeting, the voices of those he knew fell on Yuichiro’s ears.“Such a bully…” Chess mumbled, installing her back in her seat.“Did you expect anything else from him?” Lacus added.At the crest of Ferid’s pivot, Yuichiro yanked a handful of his overcoat. The sensation in his hand matched its designer’s disposition: sleek and slippery.
“You wanna tell me what the hell just happened!?”
Ferid turned to him with an innocent shrug. “An experiment! No need to worry.”
“Why did he want Mika!?”
“Upon my word! Jealous, are we?”“Are you serious!? I—my blood—killed someone! And you let him die!”“Ahaha! You’re still upset over Shahar? That was ages ago! Ah, this will soothe your irritation—”
“Quit ignoring me! I don’t want anything from—!”
Ferid slipped a hand into the pocket of his dress pants and showed an envelope that stopped Yuichiro cold. The golden embroideries, the maroon parchment dye, the crest of the Ariadust family composing the wax seal stamp…“Guren…?” He whimpered.“On our way through town, he asked me to deliver it to you! An adorable sight. He’ll never ask of you explicitly, but he won’t leave my side until the topic unfolds—”Resentment spread through him like smoke, and he all but tore it from Ferid’s hands. The world reduced to him and his nuisance.
“Why are you anywhere near him!?”
A razor-sharp fang peered from his patronizing smirk.“Not even a thank you? I’m hurt.” He stepped to the side as his inferior swept the remains that had yet to burst into particles of light.“You know I’ve fraternized with your papa in the past. Are your memories of our first dinner that hazy?”Yuichiro’s clenched his teeth.True, such a statement wasn’t a revelation, far from it. Another connection, born from dread, rendered him queasy.“… Ferid.”“Ah~ The moment I’ve been waiting for. ‘Thank you, gracious lord Ferid Bathory—’”“Did Guren really ask you to give this to me?”“I’m not worried about my image enough to lie.”His worst-case scenario drew closer, but he refused to run from it.“… This scheme you’ve been off doing. Did you tangle him up in it too?”He sensed Norito’s sympathetic gaze resting on him, but he couldn’t take his attention off Ferid.“I’m afraid I can’t receive the credit. For I, too, am I scion is someone else’s tale.”Yuichiro’s eyes widened.
“Then whose plan is it!? How long have you been doing this!?”
The more he received Ferid’s silvery laugh, the more yearned to pull his blade out of his scabbard and slice off his head.“So anxious to learn every detail! You need not worry about trifles such as these. I’m sure my partner will play with you soon.”
“That’s not good enough, you smug, grinning—!”
His frigid hand rested on Yuichiro’s shoulder. Bent forward, his lips grazed the shell of his ear.“Just keep bathing with my master like the sweet boy you are.”The warmth spread across his cheeks alone betrayed his embarrassment. The memory burned brightly in his head, not as an image, but as a fire engulfing him with the need to protect.He swatted Ferid’s hand away and demanded, “How do you know about that!?”“Why, Crowley, of course! See? You’re far too paranoid of my exploits.”Yuichiro snarled at his back until he left the hall. The knowledge he headed to Mikaela, that his vacation of seeing his face ended in such a hideous display, boiled his blood.Only Norito’s groan, the distress of someone dear to his family, brought his attention from the door.Akane propped him on her shoulder when he stumbled to his feet, rubbing the crown of his head.“Last time I’m relaxing in my favorite room,” Norito groaned, “Thanks, kiddo.”“Norito!”Yuichiro hurried over, twisting his lips to demand he confirm his well-being, but he was silenced at once with a gentle massage of his elongated left ear.The sensation dizzied him. His sentence left his throat as a gurgle.“H-Hey…! S-Stohp…!”When he came to, he reeled at the sight of Norito’s usually sleepy eyes surveying him with the sharpness of a blade. So close was he that the breath from his nose brushed against Yuichiro’s skin.“Er…”“Let’s chat, younger Ariadust.”*“And now the other vampires freak out around me. There. The end,” Yuichiro finished after many an interruption for more precise detail.Despite his complaints, they returned to Norito’s ‘favorite little room.’ Next to Akane, Yuichiro felt more comfortable than he ever did the first day he entered the estate, flustered, bright-eyed, and pleading for Guren’s change of heart.The day seemed segregated from the present by years.“I stayed away from you and Guren, even after I recovered. I couldn’t let anyone I care about get caught up in this mess.”Yuichiro glared at his lap. The letter felt heavier than before.“But if they were working together all along…”“Hey…” Akane offered, giving his knee a quick pat. “Maybe the explanation’s in here.”Norito echoed her sentiments while polishing his pipe with his sleeve. The remnants from his earlier smoking session still wafted around the room.“Want me to open it for you?” He asked, extending his hand.Yuichiro drew out a long sigh.“Nah. It’s okay.”Slowly and with the utmost care, he slipped his fingers beneath the envelope’s seal flap and pushed them upward. The wax stamp lifted in tandem.A possible moment of truth stared back at him, folded into three sections with identical segments. Anxiety streaked through him like a comet. Even now, the vampire slain at Ferid’s feet flashed in his brain.He revealed its message with the care of a surgeon:
‘They say a fool cannot be cured even in death. I suppose you are the embodiment of this claim.’
“………Huh?”He scrutinized each word in the sentence. Pronounced them aloud. Brought it far and near to his face.“T-That can’t be all of it…”“Let me see!”Akane gently removed it from his hands, flipped the paper over, and found an additional remark of smaller handwriting.
‘Glad you are well.’
“…”“…”“That’s it!?” They exclaim in unison.Akane flailed it in her hand. “Where’s the heartfelt longing to have his son return to his side!? The promise that no matter who you are, you’ll always be his baby boy!? The dried tears making little wrinkly waves at random intervals of the page!?”
“I got turned into a vampire and this is all he bothers to write!? That bastard! I won’t forgive him”

“Me neither!”
Cutting their rage-fest short was a hearty cackle from Norito. Dog-like as it was, however, its grating quality was only a fraction of Ferid’s condescending assault on his ears.“That’s Guren for ya,” he said, stuffing the bowl of his pipe.“I don’t get it…” Yuichiro grumbled, his stab of anger giving way to the solemnity that birthed it. “Why would he… why are both of you taking this so lightly!?”Norito offered a sympathetic grin.“You’ll have to forgive him for his lack of theatrics. I bet he thinks it’s ironic. A vampire Ariadust.”Akane and Yuichiro shared a look of concern.“Yeah…?”“In what way?”“Colluding with vampires is at the heart of his entire clan.”From Norito’s preemptive half shrug, he must have expected the offense that exploded Yuichiro out of his seat. Still, that didn’t stop the latter from shouting his grievances.“Hold it! How can you say that about our family!? We’re not some bloodsucker spies! Whatever Ferid roped him in, I’m sure he doesn’t—”“Yes, the Ariadusts aren’t. That I’ll give you,” Norito answered. His puff fills the air between them with smoke. Malleable in the hands of women, however, he rested his pipe to the side after a few displeasurable coughs from Akane.“But then again, you weren’t always Ariadusts, were you?”“Uh…”He’d mentioned it once or twice. The vestiges of his old name. An empty relic of the past.Guessing as much, Norito turned to Akane and asked, “Hey, missy. You’ve learned about the Ichinose clan, haven’t you?”She shook her head, fumbling with the end of her ponytail.“Yeah… the Hiragis didn’t manipulate history books for you to learn about them—”Another round of palms slamming against the table interrupted him.“You’re not making any sense, Norito! The Ariadusts are—”“The second most powerful and influential clan after the Hiragi family itself. I read the same texts you did.” He glanced at them from beneath his lashes, and an elusive glimmer flashed in his eyes.“But they weren’t always.”“What’s that mean…?”Norito drank up as much of Yuichiro’s bright and boyish curiosity as possible before leaning back in his armchair.“Anyway! I recall a certain someone saying he didn’t care for family history, so let’s change the subject to this little girlfriend of yours.”“Geh heh heh! I’m afraid you’re mistaken about our relationship! Let me tell you about his real sweetheart and how he did me dirty—”“Don’t get her started!” Yuichiro said, snatching the thumb jerked in his direction and tucking it under his arm. “That was then!”Norito chuckled in satisfaction. He rocked himself upright and dragged a little chess set across the coffee table.“Oh, so you wanna listen now?”“If this has anything to do with what Guren’s up to, then hurry up and talk!”“I’m also curious,” Akane added once she freed herself from his restraints. “If it’s important to him, then it’s worth my time.”Yuichiro smiled.Norito picked up the queen and king from the shared side of the board. They scraped against each other as he rolled them between his fingers.“All right. For starters, the Ichinoses used to reign alongside the Hiragis too. Wouldn’t have to do all this name changing business if they hadn’t come into conflict.”“Did vampires attack?” Yuichiro cried, leaning on the edge of his seat.“An assassination attempt!?” Akane followed.Their theories were wrong, judging by Norito’s constrained laughter.“Guren kept the details vague. Something involving an illegitimate child between them.”The two slumped on their sofa.“That’s all…?”“Doesn’t seem like much, but the fall out tormented them ever since.” He dropped the queen on the board, against the pawns surrounding it like buzzards. “They became pariahs, suffered abuse from the Hiragis and any other contingent family. The whole clan nearly dissolved.”Yuichiro rescued the queen and staged it upright.“… Where was Guren—”“Oh no no,” Norito chuckled, waving his hand with dismissal. “This was a good 200 years ago. Nobody knows but him. And me, when the burden of that secret became too much.”Yuichiro’s ‘lofty’ ideals, what he spoke of with such adamance in the carriage, now weighed on him like a spit in his caretaker’s face. To uptake for humanity—the Hiragis in particular—on the back of his family’s mistreatment…The condescension of his caretaker fell into place.“The current head was disparaged. No associate was free from being a slave to the Hiragis’ grudge. But he kept a smile on his face, all because he loved his son.”Norito plucked a knight from the board and tossed it between his hands.“Well, one day, simply to remind him of his place, there was a unanimous decision between the clans’ leaders to execute him.”Yuichiro stiffened in surprise.“No way… that’s not fair…!”“How could they take someone’s life just because they feel like it!?” Akane agreed.Stroking his goatee, Norito continued, “His heir shared your feelings. That’s why he was intent on revolutionizing the kingdom in his favor once he became the new head of the Ichinoses.”Having returned to the grassy plain where the fire brigade had placed him, Yuichiro remembered Guren’s dismissal of his broken home with the single phrase:
‘Oh well! No one stays a victim forever.’
“So he did.”“With what…?” Akane asked, rubbing Yuichiro’s arm as she spoke.Norito returned the Knight to D8.“The Lammergeier cult.”Head tilted, she tested the name on her tongue. “Lammer… what? You mean the bird…?”“Sounds like it. The lord of the Ichinose clan got his hands on this ‘special blood,’ one that restored a vampire’s emotions, their capacity for love and pleasure, and rendered him hopelessly addicted to it.”Shahar’s remains passed through Yuichiro’s mind as he sat eerily still, lost in quiet, inanimate contemplation.He’d sobbed, displayed humanity unseen in any vampire besides himself.They shared relief in a ‘Mikaela’s’ blood.Yet his Mikaela’s blood had been ‘wrong.’A ‘fake.’Akane must’ve picked this up as well, for she made a sidelong glance in his direction.His pulse grew sluggish.“Norito…” He mustered at last, “Where did they get that blood?”“That, he didn’t tell me…” Norito intoned, “I’m as clueless as you with all that ‘Mikaela’ talk. But whatever that special blood was, the Ichinoses created an entire congregation of vampires at their backing call, and they destroyed every other pillar around the Hiragis.”With each name, the queen Yuichiro ‘rescued’ knocked down the pieces on the opposing end of the board.“The Niis. The Goshis. The Hakkes. The Sangus. Rikudo. Kuki. Shijin. Shichikai. Jujo. All nine of the great clans fell that night.”
‘Everything you hate about this country is our fault.’
Yuichiro took his bottom lip beneath his teeth.“Was Guren was trying to slip this to me…?”“But if all of this is true, how were they wiped out? Who could’ve defeated an army of vampires?” Akane broke in, fiddling with the rounded tip of a bishop.Norito raised his brows and pointed over his shoulder.“Her.”Behind him hung a massive oil painting of Queen Krul ‘Tertius Sator’ Illustrious.“Crushed the whole thing with her subjects and transformed this entire country in her own image. Apparently, she and the Hiragis signed a pact that erased the history of Ichinoses until, little by little, they only knew themselves as Ariadusts.”The happy, powerful family who never rebelled. Never needed to rebel.Yuichiro’s gaze dropped to the Ariadust crest.“That can’t be right…” He pleaded, a last-ditch effort to hold on to his refusal.“If everything was wiped out, how does Guren—”“Younger Ariadust.”When their eyes met once more, Norito’s expression had hardened. “Who is he acquainted with that lived long enough to witness this?”Terror overtook Yuichiro’s face.His head swam in an incessant flood of second-guesses and backpedals. The corners of his caretaker’s letter bent under his unrelenting grasp.His lips tremble and part until—
“Damn it!”
Swells of anger fresh and cathartic flushed through his veins.He’s been messing with my family from the beginning! But it doesn’t make sense now! Why would he—why would Guren—whoever’s in charge of this! What’s the point of starting this all over again!?”“Maybe they’re after something else this time.”
“But…!”
Yuichiro allowed himself a moment’s contemplation before rising from Akane’s side.“Ah, Yu! Where are you going!?”“It’s dinnertime,” He said, taking leave for the exit, “I can’t keep Mika waiting.”“You forgot your letter,” Norito pointed out, “Gonna write back anything?”Yuichiro clenched the door handle.“… If he can run around with Ferid, then he can see me. So I’ll bring him here and beat him up for keeping secrets like that!”The depths of his heart told him it was an act of protection. Such a confession would be incomprehensible for the human Yuichiro, for whom Ferid Bathory was a stranger and Mikaela was a phobia on the wall.Nevertheless, the aching in his chest didn’t mitigate.He turned up the corners of his mouth as his final reassurance.“Though… I’ve been helping a vampire this whole time. So there’s no winning, is there?”And with that, he slipped out the door empty-handed. The surrounding walls reclaimed a fraction of their constricting maleficence. The colors of his world changed slightly. Dread climbed the ladder of his spine while he climbed the grand foyer’s stairs.To his surprise, his aforementioned vampire awaited at the center.“Mika…!”And his family’s puppet master stood behind him.“My master heard your voice from the downstairs parlor, so he instructed we stay here until you returned.”Yuichiro grimaced, for such a form of address was worthless toward one he so hideously manipulated.On the other hand—“You waited for me…?”The serenity of Mikaela’s expression served as a haven from Ferid’s unforthcoming smiles, but he didn’t indulge in this oasis for long. Instead, he rushed over and seized his hands, careful his desperation never translated into an unpleasant grip.“Let’s go somewhere else this evening!”“Yuichiro dear, it’s a tradition that—”“Your ‘tradition’ can jump off a cliff! Why don’t you hang out with Crowley or something!?”Eyes lit with a twinkle of mischief, Ferid counters, “I understand your anger towards me, but what of your sire? Will you deprive him of a meal—”“Don’t be stupid! He’ll drink my blood!”He returned to Mikaela with a plastered smile that didn’t reach his desperate eyes.“Is that all right?” He asks softly.“Yes.”A sigh of relief and a quick meeting of their foreheads followed, a gesture Mikaela gave ample tolerance since their bath and even initiated himself on occasion. He soon left this comfort, however, to cast Ferid a dirty look and lead Mikaela to their upstairs sanctuary.“Let’s go to the parlor on the third floor! The one with the cool view of the moon! Or anywhere else you want! Lead the way!”“Oh dear,” Ferid droned from below, “Whatever shall I tell the vampires faithfully awaiting his arrival?”
“Make something up!”
As Yuichiro walked with Mikaela hand in hand, who lessened the imperial stride with which he glided alongside Crowley, his gaze fixed on his profile. Accustomed to such observation, not once would his eye contact be returned.
‘That blood… it sounded like what Mika did for me.’
The magnum opus of Ferid’s art gallery flashed in his mind’s eye, one of his family locked away and cradling the result of his torture.He shook his head as if to empty it of his frantic thoughts. A careful entwining of his and Mikaela’s fingers grounded him to reality.
‘Forget it! I don’t care what they’re up to. I’m not letting anyone use him again!’

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

“So the rumors were true. The prince really did turn you,” said Lacus, the background noise to Yuichiro’s dreamy languor as they strolled about the estate.Ever since his conversation with Norito, Mikaela and Guren were the exclusive inhabitants of his thoughts, exchanging the forefront of his mind as a tide ebbs and flows from the sands.“Mhm.”“Everything’s falling into place. If you weren’t his progeny, you’d be no match for me.”Thankfully, his chitchat required no legitimate response, a consequence, it seemed, of having René as a frequent conversation partner—or any vampire free from flights of eccentricity.“Probably not…”While his scent inflicted a majority of his peers with unease, Lacus’s approach had transformed from pompous disregard to agitated respect—an attitude that inspired his many invitations to spar this morning.Healed from any wounds, Lacus’s spotless skin contrasted his bloody clothing.“If you think about it, holding my own against someone as powerful as you proves my innate skill.”“Sure.”“In fact, we…”His background noise had been replaced with playful squeals and ecstatic whispers, of animated chatter and wistful sighs.“What is it?” Yuichiro asked, though he noticed the source immediately.Along the extravagant hall, at least four blood maidens gathered around each window. They’d pushed them open to let in the ever-colder autumn breeze flowing past, indulging in the musky-sweet scents of the leaves.Lacus frowned. "Why are those blood servants crowding the wall?”“… Dunno. I think they’re waiting for something.”His guess earned a dismissive shrug.“Humans derive joy from the stupidest things. Let’s go.”Yuichiro remained still, however, until he found his companion in a sea of rustling black skirts and fluffy crimson aprons.“Yuichiro?”“It’s okay. Go on without me.”Upon recognizing the human he must’ve seen by Yuichiro’s side during Shahar’s intrusion, he said, “Ah, that one. Suit yourself.”That he did, but to Yuichiro’s surprise, not a single maid acknowledged his approaching footsteps.How commonplace he must have been to them.He almost expected Akane to be cross with him when he fished her out of the crowd (an easy feat since she was working her way through the back), but he received a smile as bright as the sun.“Yu!” She squealed, hanging from the apron straps Yuichiro held her from. "What’re you doing here!? Did you hear the news!?”He returned her to the floor. “I was gonna ask you! What’s all the excitement about?”With a death grip on his hands, Akane raved, “Prince Illustrious’s birthday celebration is coming up at the end of next month!”“That’s right…” recalled Yuichiro, “Ferid mentioned his birthday was in the fall. So they throw a party here?”“Only the biggest party in the estate! There’s going to be an enormous ball, and an amazing feast to match, and fireworks, and…!” She caught her breath. "And the person in charge of arranging music this year is Viscount Miyuki Yamada! And you know the best part!?”Despite her question, she refused even a second to pass before seizing Yuichiro in a bear hug and failing to lift him off his feet.“She’s visiting here today! To test acoustics!”“… That so?”Her embrace loosened, her voice no longer stood out among the crowd, and when she stepped back, her enthusiasm transformed into doe-eyed disappointment.“… You’ve never heard of her!?”“Can’t say I have.”“The viscount!?” She cried as though her volume alone jump-started his lack of recognition.“The sole daughter of the Yamada family!? Member of the royal guard!? Marksmanship champion!? Expert Pianist and violinist!? More chivalrous than any knight!? Dresses like a prince!?”“Sorry.”Her sigh was more dreamy than weary when she returned to his chest.“She’s absolutely stunning… if she could whisk me away at the ball, I’m sure I’d die happy…”“Huh? I thought you liked Mika.”Yuichiro felt her tug at his ribbon. "Don’t be silly! Of course I love him! But he’s not pursuable. You know what they say! For a healthy heart, one must have a love both attainable and unattainable!”“Who says that?”She lifted her face, and the glare with which she met his own gave him a start.“What!?”“And what’s it to you whether I adore Prince Illustrious!?” She sneered, emphasizing every other word with a poke.“Last time I checked, he was taken. Are you excited to rub it in!? Can’t wait to remind me!?”“Hey! I wouldn’t do something that mean!”At the abrupt sound of a galloping horse, the blood maidens’ squeals of excitement crescendoed, all but pushing each other against the window and almost out of it. A few took off their hats and waved them against the wind.“She’s here!”Akane trotted from side to side, searching for a spot of her own, so Yuichiro brought her on his shoulders.He earned a hug on the top of his head.His height bested enough of the servants to catch a glimpse of his own, and his focused vision did the rest of the work.Though Akane said she dressed like a prince, he hadn’t expected a figure so… cartoonishly fitting of the role.Riding in on a horse as blinding of a white as her ceremonial military uniform came a woman far taller than him. Her ringlet curls flowed behind her with the grace of a flag, and her blue eyes, luminous past the point of human, were fringed with the thickest lashes he’d ever seen.“Yeesh…” He jeered under his breath amidst several cries of:
“Such a magnificent horse! She’s plucked out of a fairy tale!”

“So handsome! Aw, her hair looks spun from gold!

“She’s a prince! A prince!”
Viscount Yamada’s blown kiss from afar was a siren’s song that nearly led them off the window sill.
“I’ll follow you for the rest of my life!”

“I look up to you so much, Viscount Yamada!”
Yuichiro grimaced.“Her fans are pretty aggressive…”“Of course they are! See how gorgeous she is!?” Akane chided with a loving pat on his head.
“So this is where you’ve been!”
A maid no older than the others, perhaps even younger, had a voice powerful enough to summon their attention. Beneath the shadows of a white kerchief pulling back her locks were eyes glittering with vexation.“Oh no, it’s Fumie! Put me down!”“Akane! Don’t do that!” Yuichiro hissed, catching her as she fell backward off of his shoulders.Fumie continued her scolding. “What badly trained maids you are! Huddling around here when the vampires finished their breakfast a while ago and the kitchen still looks like a murder scene!”“But Fumie!” appealed a maid Yuichiro recognized as Chihiro, “We wanted to take a peek! Nothing more!”She’d emboldened another to add, “We were going to return! Honest!”“No exceptions! Now back to work with the lot of you!”Once more, with no attention to Yuichiro, the maids whined and grumbled on their way to the kitchen. Some consoled their friends with pats on the shoulder, while others muttered dissent and dragged their feet.“You should be ashamed to forget your place as the honorary blood servants of the Illustrious estate!” Fumie walked backward and pumped her fist with a rallying cry. "Now step it up! Vampire satisfaction is our number one priority!”“Yes ma’am…” They answered in a quite dreary unison.“Can’t be helped,” Yuichiro shrugged, “Let’s play later, Akane—Wha!?”He spoke not to the image of his friend but his own shoulder cape, rustling to-and-fro with the human life beneath it.“Don’t acknowledge my existence until she’s gone.”“We need to discuss how much you skip out on work. It’s not fair to your friends—”“I’ll meet up with them later!” His bouncing cape argued back. “I promise! But first—”She allowed a momentary peek of her face. “I have a favor. Hear me out—”“Don’t have to…” Yuichiro sighed, “I already know what you want.”“So you will!?”“You’ll stay under there all day if I don’t!”Akane’s grin stretched to her ears."You’re so well trained!”Thus began their journey to the grand foyer—the site of arrival for her equally magnificent viscount.“Let’s hide here!” Akane suggested, pointing to one of the massive columns supporting the observation balconies.Despite obeying her wishes, Yuichiro couldn’t help but point out, “You’re already under my cloak.”“This is for both our safety!”He appreciated the small hug that came with such an argument, faulty as it was.“She should be here any minute!”“You’d hide a lot better if you stopped bouncing!”“Do remember to greet your guest in a manner customary to a host,” hit Yuichiro’s ears from afar in a tone sweet and foreboding.“Ferid…?”The name sent Akane further into his cape. From the way she shifted, she narrowed her vision to the entrance itself, lest she be exposed to the sight on the staircase.“Is he coming!?”Yuichiro focused his hearing. Though swift and subtle, he could still make out footsteps belonging to two.“… Him and Mika! Since when do they welcome humans here? Isn’t that Norito’s job?”“Now that you mention it…”At last master and servant emerged from a leftwing corridor, but a sheer veil masked their features. Their brief glances in Yuichiro’s direction were all the attention they afforded him.“… Why’re their faces covered?”“The veils!” Akane voiced in relief. She stretched her little neck outward, and upon investigating the safety of her scope of vision, let his cape fall back.“Phew! Should’ve known they’d have them if they were greeting Viscount Yamada.”“Makes sense…”“Wait here, my master.” Ferid bowed, and with each step down the staircase, Akane squeezed Yuichiro’s waist tighter.“Here she comes!”Yuichiro’s eyes, however, rested where Mikaela stood until the very sound of the opening doors and a plea to look from beneath his cape.The airs on which Ferid adorned himself when greeting Viscount Yamada were more posh than usual, as if he, too, desired the role of a caricature.“How good of you to come. I do hope your journey was pleasant.”“Indeed.” She assumed a hand upon her heart that mimicked Ferid’s. “I awaited your hospitality with bated breath.”
‘That voice…!’
Low and husky, befitting that of a mezzo soprano, Yuichiro wouldn’t have forgotten one so distinguishable, yet where and when escaped him. He stepped closer, much to Akane’s delight.“I can’t believe she’s this near me…!”As she climbed up the stairs with her host, their postures noble and full of grace, she voiced her anticipation of meeting Mikaela with fond reverence.“And I could never forget the cherished prince, Mikaela ‘Octavus Sator’ Illustrious.”When she slipped out a rose still wet with dew from a location Yuichiro couldn’t discern, he recognized her at once.“We meet again.”The weirdo.The one whom he met at the end of midsummer festival.“Welcome to the estate,” Mikaela greeted with the flair of a lukewarm rehearsal.Ferid accepted the rose for him.Far from garnering reproach of any kind from Viscount Yamada, fondness colored her understated laugh.“Oh Your Royal Highness, I don’t need such precautionary measures. Come, show me your actual beauty.”She pushed back his veil, evoking a constrained “Huh!?” from Akane and Yuichiro alike.“You too, Ferid Bathory. You know there’s no need with me.”“Ahaha, forgive my forgetfulness.”“She can look at vampires!? What can’t she do!?” Akane praised, despite retreating to the safety of Yuichiro’s cape and assuming her narrow scope once more. “It looked… like a wedding for a second.”Yuichiro frowned.Concurrently, Viscount Yamada had taken to admiring Mikaela’s features, caressing his cheek with a slow and steady hand.“There we are. No need to hide, my prince.”“What is she doing…?” Yuichiro mumbled amidst the gasp of righteous indignation beside him.“I’d be remiss not to comment on your impeccable loveliness,” His newfound nuisance continued, “for if it were time, you’d be eternity. If a star fell for every moment I got lost in your eyes, our bond would empty the sky. And if you were a tear in my own eye, I would never weep for fear of losing you.”“Oh brother…”Her saccharine declarations punctuated by Mikaela’s silence made them even more unbearable.Such awkwardness didn’t stop a biased Akane from sniffling.“That was so powerful…”Ferid officiated Yuichiro being the sole unamused witness with, “How kindly you speak of my master!”“It is only natural I give praise to a vampire as fresh as the morning.” She knelt on one knee. "Should we be wed, I would also never need the sun.”At this, Akane seized his entire midriff, shaking him and only half-trying to suppress her volume. "Wed!? Did you hear that!?“Sure did,” Yuichiro answered, anchoring himself still.It appeared Viscount Yamada was as immune to Mikaela’s silence as anyone who’d spent ample time with him, enough to incorporate it into whatever spectacle this was.“Your tranquility is as alluring as always. Might you give me an angel’s touch and escort me to the ballroom?”Though Mikaela didn’t take her hand, he waited for her to rise before taking leave from the staircase. She and Ferid soon followed after exchanging sidelong smiles.“This isn’t happening… this can’t be!” Akane stammered. She freed herself from Yuichiro’s cape and took to pacing back and forth.Folding his arms across his chest, Yuichiro said, “There’s something about her I don’t like…”“Of course you don’t!”“I think we should follow them.”“Of course we should! She’s—““The way she and Ferid acted together, she may be involved in his schemes somehow. I need to figure… out…”The daggers slashing against the side of his face grew impossible to ignore, and there Akane stood, jaw slack and brows knit as though he slapped her in the face.“W-What did I say!?”“Lord Ferid!? Forget Lord Ferid! How could you ignore the genuine emergency that you could lose Prince Illustrious!?”Yuichiro tilted his head."… To what?”So round did Akane’s eyes grow he feared they’d roll across the floor.“Are you kidding!? Our Prince Mikaela ‘Ocatvus Sator’ Illustrious is being picked up by someone as cool, confident, and romantic as the viscount! Didn’t you hear her bring up marriage!?”“Oh… Mika doesn’t like being smothered. I’m not sure he understood her either—”“That’s not the point!”Her last response left her lips as a dry squeak, and she rejoined with a brief massage of her temples.This time, an elongated sigh preceded her words.“I can’t believe this…”“Woah, I’m disappointing you a lot today. Sorry about that.”“He’s so lucky someone else is in love with him.”“Akane?”When he reclaimed her attention, she threw out an open palm for him to shake.“Guess I have no choice! We need to put our differences aside!”“We were fighting?”“…”He accepted her hand. “Continue.”“As much as it pains me for the viscount to become my rival, wooing Prince Illustrious makes an alliance out of the question. It doesn’t matter if he didn’t care! We, as the people who saw him first, must defend his honor and our own! We’ll spy on their affair and collect the data we need to defeat her!”“… You do that. I’m just gonna make sure he’s okay.”To deflate her enthusiasm brought him no satisfaction, but he couldn’t follow along in earnest. His company while she achieved another goal was all he could offer.“Terrible,” Akane muttered, returning to the sanctuary of his cape, for vampires awaited her at their destination.Nevertheless, it pleased him sincerely to have an ally who cared about Mikaela as much as him.Yuichiro grinned.“You’re a pain. You know that?”As though the world around Viscount Yamada bent to her taste for the exaggerated, the ballroom appeared the canvas from which she escaped, and to step inside was to complete the painting that composed her. Indeed, Yuichiro fancied he’d seen a similar space in the Narumi’s old picture book of Cinderella, and he was certain the orchestra’s attire was painstakingly designed from the crown of their heads to their shoes.She and Mikaela stood in profile view as she displayed the fruits of her labor, far enough to be scarcely heard and assuring Akane could peer from a Krul Illustrious statue unshielded.“The queen’s architecture is impeccable…” Viscount Yamada sighed, and she wrapped an arm around Mikaela’s waist. Her smile was triumphant, aglow, and didn’t forsake her mouth since she’d entered the estate. "I’m sure the acoustics will serve my orchestra well.”“Why does she keep touching him like that!?”They’d kept their word: while Akane focused on her mission of monitoring every last touch, Yuichiro devoted his hawkish observation to the interactions between her and Ferid. The sidelong glances, the astute language that only lived in their eyes—it was enough to keep him engaged, but not enough to draw conclusions.Silent and uneasy he remained.“The skirmish in the theatre was quite unfortunate, but I’ve supplied my musicians with new instruments, designed by the Inoue family themselves.”Having turned to Mikaela, she lifted his chin, guiding him to meet her eyes.“Tell me, what music pleases His Royal Highness?”“Mika doesn’t care…” Yuichiro found himself answering under his breath.“I have no interest,” Mikaela replied, to which Yuichiro followed up with a snort of “See?”Viscount Yamada stepped back in the manner of one admiring the full breadth of an immense illustration."A pity. But please, won’t you humor me and hear the song I’ve composed for the occasion? I wrote it with you in mind.”“Very well.”“She. wrote. him. a. song!” Akane strained through her teeth, clutching the queen’s marble hip.“So?”“Humph, you’re so comfortable with the prince’s disinterest in everything. You need to step it up. How will he know you like him?”“Stop it! He knows!”Though he refused to humor her words a second longer, he found his eyes drifting to Mikaela.“He has to…”Viscount Yamada’s word was a chain reaction. When her hand rose, so did the conductor ready his baton and the orchestra their instruments. The room filled with a joyful composition befitting the romantic era. Its aesthetic, singing and mellifluous, begged to be played during a waltz. One could easily time their steps to the violin, their feet floating on the strums of the harp.“Have you ever learned to dance?” She asked, offering a palm that, this time, earned Mikaela’s hand.“No.”His answer deepening the curve of her rosy lips, she led him to the center of the ballroom.“Let me take the lead.”Her hand rested on Mikaela’s left shoulder blade as she wrapped her left hand in his right. A coax to bring his left hand upon her shoulder, and he followed her steps without complication. A sway fell over the two so naturally they graduated to moving in a circle in a moment’s time.“Look at them… they’re so in sync,” Akane mused, giving pause when she noticed a particular nuance in Yuichiro’s frown.“What’s wrong, Yu?”“Nothing…”When Viscount Yamada leaned closer to Mikaela’s ear, Yuichiro also drew nearer. Whatever privacy she wished to share with him wouldn’t be permitted, for he sharpened his senses with haste. The surrounding music became majestic, a warm and old-fashioned scent of lamp-oil and clover now wafted past his nose, but he tossed such pleasantries to the side to consume their every word.“Prince Illustrious… you’re trapped here, aren’t you?” She asked, as if she divined the specific phrase to bring Yuichiro’s curiosity into a frenzy—the hint of a promise that she, too, realized the nature of Mikaela’s staying here.The answer was as saddening as he expected.“Where else should I be?”Again her smile betrayed knowledge concealed.“Take me on a trip. I wish to learn something of you.”“Drat, they’re whispering!” Akane broke in, though whatever leaning she did would never help. Yuichiro endeavored to fill her in.“She asked to learn about him…”Viscount Yamada shared with him a momentary glance, but this only emboldened him and Akane to stand their ground.“It appears we have voyeurs.”“Yes,” Mikaela agreed. The affirmation of his presence but refusal to look himself stirred Yuichiro with an unfamiliar annoyance. Through the grace of Akane tugging his cape alone did he compose himself.“That boy…” She continued, retaining perfect fluidity in her steps, “What is he to you?”“My friend.”Yuichiro’s features brightened.“What’d she ask?” Akane whispered.“If Mika and I are friends…”This high didn’t last long. With a hand trailing to the small of Mikaela’s back and a subtle laugh, her question rekindled his exasperation.“Your ‘friend?’ Is that your designation, or what he told you?”“He told me.”And he did, but it’d been a while since Mikaela’s honesty drove such a knife into his heart.“Do you know what having a friend entails?”“I should think so.”“Rummage through your own thoughts. How do you feel about your progeny?”Yuichiro hung on his words breathlessly, but to his dismay, a minute of deep thought produced an answer that filled him with shame:“I don’t know.”As the progress he believed he made shattered before his very eyes, Viscount Yamada tugged the strings her conversation had wrapped around his heart in another direction.“You don’t know! How colloquial of you! I suppose he lent you that phrase?”Yes.On the night they gazed at the moon from a skylight in the parlor.“He prefers I vocalize any lack of understanding.”“I see. You must converse often.”A healing observation. Mikaela had taken his suggestion to heart, at least. Yet the thought passed his mind that somewhere, deep down, he’d hoped this new talkativeness was exclusive to him.“… Yu?” He’d heard Akane ask.The beckoning of his name was tender, born from a willingness to console rather than gain his attention.After a graceful underarm turn, whose ending stance drew her and Mikaela nearer than before, Viscount Yamada said, “Perhaps I can share a theory from a friend of mine on sire and thrall relationships. Tell me if this relates to your situation.”Mikaela consented in his usual fashion.“To him, spreading the curse of vampirism always had a general motive. It was to give blood to a human you fancy. Perhaps you’ll fall in love with them, gain a modicum of interest in your life, all the while you drag them into a similar hell. But this is never the case. The result is a despair far deeper than what the vampire previously had known. Boredom is never quenched, and the thrall is weaker and dumber than the sire, so to make an inevitable relationship of master and servant. Never equals. Never happy.”The little pulse in Yuichiro’s chest grew fervent.“The progeny wants to die. But it’s out of the sire’s ability. They are trapped, and the thrall will come to loathe their creator with all their heart.”Mikaela remained silent moments after she finished.“Well? Did I describe your current predicament?” She appealed.Once more he made no answer, but his eventual response picked up the pieces of the friendship Yuichiro thought broken.“My time without him is wearisome.”“Yu, c’mon! What’d they say!?” Akane begged upon witnessing the relief that washed over Yuichiro and stretched his lips with a smile most genuine.“Mika…”Viscount Yamada’s follow up question swept him away too soon for him to finish his sentence.“Be so good as to explain what you mean by ‘wearisome.’”“I cannot.”All was well. In the bath, such an expression was as far as Mikaela was capable, and Viscount Yamada validated that fact.“You know too little about yourself, and so, this feeling is outside your comprehension.”She saw no satisfaction in leaving that be, in allowing Mikaela to come to his own conclusions at his own pace, for she pushed him further than Yuichiro thought achievable or considerate.She stopped their dance to bring Mikaela’s hands to his chest.“But what if I said you were in love with your progeny?”Her inquiry brought Yuichiro’s face an uneasy flush, which roused Akane to demand more of him.“She said…”“Do you have an understanding of love?” Viscount Yamada put in, cutting off his thoughts yet again.“Ferid Bathory mentions it occasionally.”“And do you relate to it?”“However would I know?”Wearing her most patient of smiles, she guided Mikaela’s hand back upon her shoulder, fanned out the other, and continued their elegant sway along the ballroom floor.“It’s all right. Such a subject requires too much self-awareness. We’ve opened the book, but not once have we discussed the alphabet! Allow me to be your guide.”Yuichiro nodded in Mikaela’s place, ironically, with no consciousness of this act.“When you are near him, do you feel something you’d describe as strange?”“At times.”“When? Since the beginning? Or is it a sensation you’ve come to notice?”“It came to me slowly.”“And do you like it?”Yuichiro swallowed.“… I think I…” He mouthed without a word, all the while Mikaela concluded his thoughts with:“I believe so.”Viscount Yamada gave a subtle hum of affirmation.”The sense of wanting his company, the pleasure you encounter, is it exclusive to him?”“Yes…” Both Mikaela and Yuichiro voiced, the former’s still, the latter’s slow.“Then that’s that. See how you can look within yourself with proper guidance?”Within Yuichiro, he digested her suggestions further.
‘A feeling… I don’t experience with anyone else. It became so normal so fast I didn’t even notice…’
“Is it true I love my progeny?” passed Mikaela’s lips in yet another spell of contemplation.At last he pulled away from Viscount Yamada’s embrace and stood at his lonesome paces apart. His former dance partner timed her bow to the end of the song. Uproarious applause followed from the conductor and musicians, but Ferid’s sounded the loudest.When all was hushed and the band emptied the room, she answered, “You have an attraction to him, that much is obvious. How else do you explain your incessant protection?”“Yu!”On the other side of the ballroom, Akane’s voice entered Yuichiro’s world again, and he tore himself from the enrapturing conversation. He apologized with his usual nervous gesture, warming the back of his neck with his hand.“Sorry… How long were you calling me?”Upon receiving a self-satisfied smile, he couldn’t help but feel he’d proven whatever assumption she cooked up in her mind.Even more so at Viscount Yamada’s next invitation.“If I may, Your Royal Highness, I wish to discuss a more private matter with you. Won’t you join me?”She gestured toward the balcony which, given the mercy of the mid-morning sun and unbroken whips of clouds meandering past the sky, saw ample protection through the knitted shade above.Mikaela followed in newfound peace, prying no further into his heart than instructed.“Damn it! We’re gonna lose him!”Refusing to dignify Ferid’s giggling from afar, he hoisted Akane up by the torso and raced across the ballroom.“You know I hate being carried like this!”The glass doors to the balcony left no suitable space to lurk. What they had in stature they lacked in opaqueness. Thankfully, Viscount Yamada had taken herself and Mikaela as far off as the protective shade granted. He stared off lazily at a lilac arbour, but another stroke of his cheek was all she needed to reclaim his attention.Yuichiro returned Akane to her feet and, out of respect for her humanity, arranged her on the opposite door so her gaze rested on Viscount Yamada.“Allow me to remark that you should have listened to my sister,” She began.“You cherry picked everything that convinced yourself you were human and neglected any counter evidence. Perhaps if you hadn’t deluded yourself, you wouldn’t have lost your beloved in the first place.”
‘Hold on… is she saying it’s Mika’s fault!?’
Context mattered little; what she said wasn’t possible. It bordered on cruel, and what once flowed through his veins as annoyance flared into scorn. He exchanged a glance with Akane, informing her with his eyes he was moments from blowing their cover.Akane balled up her fists in agreement.“I don’t understand,” Mikaela answered flatly, another borrowed phrase providing a spark of joy to the flames of Yuichiro’s indignation.Viscount Yamada responded to his confusion as always—with a somber smile that veered on congratulatory.“I know,” She said, kneeling before him and sheltering both his hands in hers."You poor dear. How are you to understand a heart so cruelly closed off from its owner?”The formality she’d once demonstrated had given way to a tone saturated with pity, dare Yuichiro say condescension, of one approaching the problem of a long-time friend they considered hopeless.“The love of your life has returned, and yet you remain as hidden as ever. You sought the privilege of being an emotionless vampire. By aggressively seeking authenticity, the fake becomes more real than the real thing, eh? But alas, sustaining your own destruction requires a level of cognizance, no matter how infinitesimal. Your blood is a dead giveaway.”She drew a hand into the pocket of her military jacket.“At least, that’s how I’ve come to understand whatever you’ve done to yourself. But enough, the time for this charade is over.”When out came a necklace bearing a mini apothecary bottle, filled with a liquid of ever-familiar viscosity, thickness, and color, it was all he could do not to jump out and slap it away. But he waited, achingly, contemptuously, to scour as much information as possible.“I have something for you.” Viscount Yamada rose to her feet, dangling her trinket before Mikaela’s face.“A gift the queen would never allow you to accept. Are you not afraid?”“No. You cannot harm me.”Her laughter started to grate.“That’s your closest thing to trust, isn’t it? Underestimation. But what if I told you I could unlock a version of yourself far beyond your imagination? I can crush every wall you’ve fortified—”
“Enough!”
Akane and Yuichiro stormed upon the balcony in the fashion of an army breach.“You’re still here? Good morning, Yuichiro—““Stay away from Mika!” An oppressive feeling of righteousness surged in Yuichiro’s breast when he, at last, was the one to hold his family close.”Whatever you’re trying to do, I won’t let you!”Akane rushed to the opposite party, making a barrier out of her frame and trapping her Prince Charming in her tightest hug.“M-Me neither! As much as it breaks my heart, I’ll become your enemy if I have to!”“Aren’t you sweet?” Viscount Yamada encouraged, nor did she try to stray.“If only he weren’t too late.”“I’m not!”“He’s not!”Having her fill of Akane’s restraints, she slipped away with ease and offered a consolidation ruffle of her captor’s hair.“I’m afraid so. No one can truly save him. Not me, not the boy he’s in love with, and certainly not the kind girl who admires him from afar. So long as he hides behind his vampirism—“
“Shut up! Stop acting like any of this is Mika’s choice!”
He embraced Mikaela tighter, but loosened at once when he felt him push back a little. All the anger and confusion building up since Shahar’s death burst forth on a single target.“Fake Mikaela this and real Mikaela that, it’s so stupid! There’s only one Mika, and he’s right here! I don’t care what he’s ‘supposed’ to be! Mika’s my family no matter who he is, so keep this nonsense to yourself!”Not once did Yuichiro anticipate shutting up the viscount, but how greatly she poked and prodded at his anger when she replied, “Humoring his delusion… how very like you.”She held Akane’s chin in the manner she did Mikaela’s, who remained obstinate under the tender gaze of the prince she admired.“Well, I suppose you’re correct in that sense. They are the same. But you said it yourself, Akane Iida.”The utterance of her name gave her a start.“Me…?”“When you look at him, it feels ‘incorrect.’ Didn’t you tell Yuichiro that?”She shook her head emphatically, as though conceding contradicted the passionate statements of a dear friend.“Wh-What I meant was—!”“Ahaha! Oh well.” Viscount Yamada departed from the three to take a gander across the acres of the Illustrious estate. After helping herself to the grunt of a stock dove, she leaned against the balustrade.“Regardless of how you feel, your Mika and I are scheduled to be wed. I’ll be freeing him from this coffin quite soon.”Too many minutes passed of her and Mikaela’s unrelenting expressions, enough for Yuichiro to brush off her claim, to internalize it, to push it away, then give it deeper thought.“What…? You weren’t kidding!?”“What use do I have in lying? We shall be married on the last week of October, the day of the queen’s—““No! You’re not taking Mika away!”He could feel Mikaela giving him another gentle push, to separate the sides of their faces, but disheartenment kept him frozen.“An arranged marriage is an arranged marriage. It’s out of my control.”“Viscount please understand!” Akane begged, clasping her hands as though in prayer. "Yu and His Royal Highness can’t be separated! And I—I want to see the prince too! My friends will be sad without him!”“Such fuss! I’ll be happy to visit sometime.”“That’s not… you can’t… Mika! Say something!”All eyes (save for Akane) rested on Mikaela, who stepped from Yuichiro’s death grip and adjusted the back of his hood.Not returning anyone’s gaze, he replied, “I trust you enjoyed yourself, but that will be all, Shinoa Hiragi.”“…”Yuichiro surveyed Viscount Yamada without a care for politeness. Her height alone made Mikaela’s words impossible—her hair, her face, the very fashion in which she carried herself.But the object of his scrutiny donned a lazy smirk, a smirk too familiar of a girl from his adolescence.“Aw… you knew.”“Shinoa!?”“Hiragi!? A princess!?” Akane shouted alongside him.“Your illusion spell-craft does not mask your scent,” Mikaela noted.The ‘viscount’ shrugged. "A weakness. I can only use so much of my sister’s abilities.”At the tug of her uniform’s golden aiguillette, a young woman half her stature appeared. A face equally noble but softened by an adoring girlishness replaced her chiseled features. Sharp ringlets returned to bouncy waves of lilac, and the ceremonial uniform transformed into a splendorous, wide swept gown.As though her mere presence were a signal, Arcanu popped out of Mikaela’s hood and flew into the distance.“You’re… my…” Akane faltered. Even the finger for which she pointed had a downward weariness.“I’m afraid so,” a voice at a sweeter octave replied.Having found assertions of his own, Yuichiro waved his finger at her and cried, “You’re that pipsqueak that came over with Prince Shinya!”“You know very well what my name is!”Yuichiro twisted his lips to argue, but Shinoa’s frown lasted mere seconds and gave way to an unrestrained fit of laughter.“You should’ve seen the look on your face! ‘Please, don’t take Mika away!’ I made you squirm my entire visit!”“What’re you even doing here!?”“What I said was true,” She answered, assuming the dignified air she carried prior. "I am the viscount.”“But the stories…!” Akane broke in, “Your history!”“All make-believe! I needed a persona to stroll around the kingdom without the burdens of the Hiragi name.”Her answers having satisfied no one but herself, she returned to the ballroom and called out for Ferid, who betrayed not an inkling of surprise for her new appearance.“Bathory! See to it that our rendezvous ends in success.”“Fear not. With you here, our preparations are complete.”“Splendid. Then it’s time to depart.” She extended a wave of pageantry to Akane and Yuichiro.“My horse Oscar François awaits. Farewell.”“Hold on a sec!”Dozens of questions swarmed Yuichiro’s mind, but he settled for the one most pertinent when all four souls returned indoors.“If you were Miyuki Yamada this whole time, why’d you creep on me at the midsummer festival!? What was that about!?”“Ah yes, my welcome. I didn’t lie.”Shinoa turned to him with eyes both secretive and brimming with purity.“I do know everything. There’s nothing about you and Mikaela I don’t know.”Upon the second cry of her name, she took mercy on him and offered a final remark before going on her way.“I’ve kept Ferid’s promise. He asked me to play with you, and that I did.”Though her voice lacked a speck of dissent, and she departed with the same patient compassion she gave Mikaela the entire morning, this only stoked the fire of Yuichiro’s irritation.That was, until her union with Ferid, arms linked and enlivened, pulled him in a dreadful reverie.
‘No way…’
Hadn’t Ferid promised he’d see his partner soon?
‘He can’t be working with Shinoa! How the hell… why would—!?’
“She’s…” Akane whimpered, entering his line of sight from two languid steps. She’d given the exit a slow burn ever since Shinoa had left.Yuichiro offered a sympathetic pat on the shoulder.“Sorry about your viscount, Akane.”“She’s so…”“Hm?”“So…”“Akane—“
“Adorable! Just too cute for words!”
With thrice the energy in which he discovered her this morning, she took Yuichiro’s wrists prisoner and tried her hardest to steal him off his feet.“What a dream! An adorable princess and handsome prince all in one! My luck increased tenfold! We have to see each other again!”By the time he parted his lips, Akane had strolled halfway across the ballroom, surely on her way to embark on a reunion plan.“Check on your friends! At least make sure they’re finished!”“‘Kay!”She wouldn’t.“Yu.”Mikaela’s voice was a switch flipped within him. Guilty he let his family slip from his attention, he drew up countless reassurances and doted on him at once.
“Ignore her, Mika! You don’t have to listen to anything anyone says! I—“
“You were mistaken.”Yuichiro paused.“… Hm?”“I had no intention of leaving your side.”There it was.The strange feeling Shinoa had mentioned before.It differed from being with Akane, his family back home, Norito, Chess, even Guren.No, it didn’t exist at first. Far from it.But then he spent time with Mikaela, and he realized he wasn’t cold and aloof out of deliberateness, that he was getting to know himself alongside Yuichiro getting to know him. He protected him relentlessly. He consoled him. His blood, his home, his favorite bath—he’d given Yuichiro all of what little he had.“I’m sorry for not noticing. Thank you.”A replenishing silence passed.“This morning was… pretty overwhelming, huh?”“Yes.”“Are you free right now? Let’s rest in my room for a while.”“Yes.”Mikaela returned to monosyllables. Ones, Yuichiro perceived, denoted a quiet exhaustion his expression couldn’t. He opened his arms for an embrace and let Mikaela walk into it at his leisure.
‘Yeah…’
When he remembered the stiffness in which Mikaela received the touches of the viscount, never invited nor encouraged, Yuichiro could hardly contain his happiness as he relaxed against his body.
‘This is love, isn’t it…’

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Shinoa Hiragi transformed the Illustrious estate.How often Ferid had strolled along the glittering halls of gold this estate offered, so much so he teetered on the edge of ennui for centuries. Reactions were mesmerized, the order Krul Illustrious set up for her vampire residents made time crawl like a worm, and his front as ‘the council’ transformed into a dreary chore of choosing tiresome aristocrats. But now, her long-established sanctuary was a stage, a show twisting and turning. Half a millennium he’d waited to take this stroll. Half a millennium he’d waited to ask this question.“Well? What do you think of my master and his progeny?”She unveiled a painting of Mikaela hiding beneath the tapestry when she answered. “Precious. As adorable as ever.” “For all your scolding, Mikaela’s shown an unprecedented amount of growth thanks to me.”“Ha!” When she laughed, their smiles matched—concealed, foreboding, and didn’t reach their eyes. “Thanks to you… I suppose I owe you gratitude. Yu is an excellent trigger.”“So I’ll receive my due praise—”“Be that as it may!” Faces that showed her humanity suited her well. So long as he pursued this path, never would he accept his favorite look of despair when those who thought him their ally were betrayed. That was the price he paid for filling his world with color once more. At the very least, he indulged in the stern demeanor of her frown. “We can’t rush these things, Ferid. A chick must break out of its shell on its own. It’ll die if you try to force it without the proper environment.”“Is that why you shielded access to my gallery?”This earned him a tapestry to the face while her gown rustled along the hall once more. Her every step declared a lack of fear, denoted a confident intruder. Indeed, the matriarch’s walls would not enclose her as they did Mikaela. “A worthless counter-measure,” she sighed, “I should’ve known you had an alternative.” “As perceptive as always. What an excellent team we make!”“Team?”Ah yes, her least favorite descriptor of their relationship. He asked for the glitter of annoyance in her eyes, and she delivered. “Ha! I’m not naïve enough to believe our alliance is anything greater than luck.” “You’re mistaken.”How he loved that expression. He’d lie often to bear witness to them, and she saw through him every time. And she was right. She would’ve been killed long ago had she been a naïve bore. “Far from it. What you love is an opportunity to usurp the meticulously crafted plans of others. The older the tree, the more amusing to uproot. You put in the work because you have more than a lifetime to see the repercussions unfold.”“I’d also enjoy an ‘uprooting’ of my own.” Accustomed to his masochistic invitations, she scoffed, “And there you have it. Had you preferred the meticulous affairs of the queen, I wouldn’t have succeeded.”The end of their journey was an invigorating one. She led him not to the humdrum of the grand foyer, but a flight of stairs in the cavern of the marble hall—a shock of crimson amidst its snowy white and glittering golds.“Shinoa dear… this is not the way to your carriage.”“You say that as if I have any hope of escape.”Raising the bottom hems of her gown, she ascended with chilly determinism that made Ferid grin. The fatalism in her blood smelled so good. “That tracking device has flown to her. She knows of my existence.” “Regardless,” He added, following her so close his toes brushed against her heels, “Isn’t it reckless to confront the queen in her own territory?”“Nonsense. You’re salivating over the idea.”That he was. When their steep journey awarded them with the four doors of the matriarch’s chamber, a mural depicting her in each season, he struggled to contain his snickering. To his delight, Shinoa continued, “In any case, know that I won’t sell you out. You’re the most convenient ally I have, albeit the least trustworthy.”“So you agree? I shouldn’t come to your rescue, and you resent me in the afterlife should you fail?”At this, she faced him and held out her wrists. One step ahead she remained. He was to bruise them, bite them, whatever indication of struggle he saw fit. She flinched not even once when he seized them with his long, agile fingers. “I’m not like my sister. I don’t intend to die here.” Feigning somberness, he nodded, and when her skin was sufficiently bruised, she stumbled into the queen’s chamber by a kick. She reclaimed her balance with grace. “I found her on the way to your room, Your Majesty, so I took the liberty of delivering her to you.”Inside, the world of the Illustrious Estate had reached its apex in aggressively sought perfection, in grandeur, in a design that bent to the will of its matriarch. Symmetry eerie, too clean, too aligned. To gaze upon her throne was to crane one’s neck as high as possible, for it stood halfway between the vaulted ceiling and the floor far below. In a room as frigid as her stare, the warm hues characteristic of her home were lost, as though she drained the surrounding walls of their blood. Her gown, dressing a body filled with the blood of human beings, was the only crimson she allowed to exist. Queen Krul ‘Tertius Sator’ Illustrious. Despite her inescapble likeness in the entire estate, even as she towered above them, her appearance was that of a child’s. Arcanu stirred on her shoulder.At her newfound guest, she simply stared. Her gaze had a sharpness that severed the spine from the skull.“Well if it isn’t Queen Illustrious!” Shinoa cried, performing a perfect curtsy she could do in her sleep. “Taking note of such a lowly human! I’m honored.”At last, the curtain rose, and Ferid stood in the audience. “Is this thy method of amusement? Forming personas to scurry about my estate?”Her archaic vernacular amused him greater still. Even Mikaela, by virtue of interacting with younger vampires and humans alike, adapted his speech. “What can I say? It’s boring out there. But I’m grateful. It’s boring because of you.”Krul narrowed her eyes. “Miyuki Yamada… To think thou would mislead me with a name so rich in history.”“Ahaha! My mistake. I suppose I—”
“Silence, livestock!”
She rose, and the air in the room grew chill enough to pass through the bones of Ferid himself. “Compose as many faces as thou wish, but they cannot conceal thy true form, Mahiru Hiragi!” Displaying everything he liked about her company, Shinoa didn’t mewl an apology against her booming voice. Her words were soft and sullen when she noted, “My sister is long gone, your majesty.”She reduced Krul’s thirst for blood to a scornful snort.“‘Sister’… a ludicrous title for one who preceded thee by centuries.” A stare of dissection passed, yet Shinoa’s smile never faltered.“Thy ashen hair… a smirk that made sport of me until the end. Aye, thou art her very soul.” “You’re not wrong to correct me, but you’re wrong about who I am. She’s just my ancestor.” She ran her fingers through the ‘ashen hair’ Krul despised so much as if to flaunt it. “She speaks to me in my dreams and tells me the most fascinating stories! Care to hear my favorite?”“To what end?” Krul demanded, returning to her throne and crossing her legs. She propped her cheek with a small fist, bracing for boredom. “I assure you, it’ll capture your interest!”Standing before the queen with such audacity—how did Ferid get so lucky to be gifted with a natural-born instigator?“It’s about a young girl in love named Mahiru, who lived in the times of a god named Illustrious and her oracle Ashera.” “What of it? My history is no tale,” Krul answered, unwavering. “We traveled many lands, some knowing of vampires, some ignorant. An ignorant human witnessed our substantial power, and we took advantage of his misunderstanding.”Ferid bit his lip. To affirm a story she never once divulged, not even to him despite his knowledge, betrayed not admission but pride—a confidence that either the girl, or her will to discuss the past, would not leave this room alive. Taking pleasure in this, Shinoa continued, “She tells me you required human offerings in exchange for your ‘blessings.’ But when you didn’t revive her dead lover after she sacrificed her kin, she hated you ever since.” “Humph.”Krul’s delicate frame said nothing of her heart. She approached her victim of the past with the same disregard she bore that very day. “Their gullibility is no transgression of mine. My posing as a god was naught more than a game. And when I grew bored, I ended it. ’Twas simple.” “I should say not!”As pressure heavy as it was vindictive added a despairing weight to the air around them, Ferid knew Shinoa’s next words with great confidence. She’d taken the proverbial plunge and made it a point to dive deeper. “Whatever happened to your oracle? Am I to ignore his absence?”A remark from Krul bore no necessity, for what could be said that her look didn’t express? In her mind, Shinoa had lost her head thrice, four times. Soon the pride of keeping her composure would be crushed under the weight of her rage.Ferid licked his lips. “You say boredom spelled the end of your charade,” Shinoa tried again when the subject of her brother was met with obstinate silence.“But what of the entire army of vampires Mahiru took under her control? Tamed with a special sample of blood?”“Trifles. I murdered her.”“And her legion?”“Hast thou witnessed any among us?”Ferid’s mind travelled back to a face of despair most delicious, to the day he crushed Shahar’s hopes and led him to his death. “Not from olden days. But there have been copycats.” How good of her to keep her promise with vagaries. Mahiru’s murder left him aimless for countless centuries. Sure, he’d find the occasional novelty, but so soon he tired of anything and everything. He thought he would have forgotten her as well, but their chaos etched into his memories. “Whatever human takes inspiration is of no consequence. I crushed the Lammergeier cult long ago.”They’d stolen enough of the aforementioned blood for him to raise another vampire cult in memory of his partner. Humans were such greedy, vengeful beings, eager to take away the freedom of those who threatened their own. The Ichinose boy took his offer with ease. “Yes. My family owes you a great debt.”“Fulfill it by taking thy leave.”A bow, and Shinoa feigned obedience with a step leftward. “… One moment,” She instigated once more. Her grin sparkled like the silver on a spider’s web. “Will you be so good as to spare me a final reassurance? So I may sleep well tonight?” “I will be so good. Make haste.”Here it comes, Ferid thought with glee. “No matter how many times these vampires arise, you’ll see to it that they’re wiped out?” Shinoa appealed with a sweetness as false as the queen’s patience. “Aye. Now depart.”“Forgive me, but that seems like a bad way to solve this problem.” Krul’s face grew stiller than before, her eyes wider. A flash of deviltry passed by, one Ferid knew as a demand to leave while she had her head.“Have you ever wondered,” Shinoa asked with an innocent smile, “whether you’ve been so focused on curing the symptoms that you never considered the disease?” “… Thine insight is worthless—” “Come to think of it… what did Mahiru’s rebellion and the Lammergeier cult have in common? A special blood, right?”She patted her chest where the apothecary bottle should hang on her necklace. “A concoction that can control vampires by raising their hearts from the dead. But where… no, who was the source of that blood?”Krul Illustrious was such an alluring sight when she feigned ignorance. Beneath her sleeves her nails must have sharpened. Her teeth surely clenched behind her lips. When her guest took a daring step closer, Arcanu’s eye bulged. “Wasn’t there a particular offering-turned-blood slave that caused quite a stir in your temple hundreds of years ago?” Shinoa asked with a leisurely sway of her skirt, “If I recall, your faction fell prey to it as well.”“No. Mahiru fills thy head with ridiculous fables.”Shinoa’s smiles were crafted to perfection, as if she practiced them in the mirror each day. A lowered bow, a deep resting curve, her eyes saw right through her with the pervasiveness of her ancestor. As the blood-lust rose in the chamber, enough to overpower the dining hall during Shahar’s invasion, her heart must have been pounding uncontrollably. But neither allowed the other to see them sweat. “Maybe so. However… I’d be more inclined to believe you had I not played with Yuichiro Ariadust this morning.”From afar, Ferid wondered if his partner noticed the way Krul veered to the edge of her seat. “… Yuichiro…” “Ah, you recall him as Yuichiro Hyakuya, yes? Did you know his blood’s returned from the stomach of your progeny?”“And what threat is that of mine?” Krul dismissed, gazing upon her highest tier of windows. No matter the time, sunlight never reached the shadows of her throne. “I do not control the ebb and flow of time, nor the phenomenon of reincarnation—”“Now, now, you and I both know reincarnation doesn’t exist in this world.”Ferid prided himself on restraining his laughter. The gall of this human, singing praises of the queen’s peaceful empire in one breath and scolding her like a school teacher the next. From time to time, Shinoa’s face grew crestfallen, and with it came a foreign air. On these occasions, Mahiru’s spirit kindled the brightest. “To gain another phase of life, you must have an unordinary spirit…” She remarked, twirling a lock of her hair. “You either entangle yourself with a demon, as did Mahiru…”Her gaze was that of a sniper when it returned to the queen meters above. “Or earn the favor a god—”“Only those hated by the divine live here—those cursed with a craving for blood.”Ferid smiled. “Don’t be so bleak. Gods are everywhere and nowhere, your majesty. They can take the forms of many things. A rock, a crab…”Krul’s facade would end in five, four…“A vampire prince—”
“Thou wilt cease meddling in Mikaela’s life on such baseless assertions!”
“Ha! Now this is why the cycle will never break!” Shinoa cried, intoxicated by the thrill of playing with death. “You can’t eradicate a religion this way! You need to kill the god himself, not his followers—”“Had Mikaela been what you claim, I would have ended him.” “Another bluff! But I understand.”Shinoa motioned her hand towards Krul’s throne as if reaching to touch the heavens. Irritating smugness was not all she crafted well. Her pity was most bemusing. “If I were you, I’d also be angry. You lead the ideal life! Your worshippers bestowed even their own offspring! How unfortunate a single, seemingly insignificant child was the entity you pretended to be.” A better partner than he would have warned her to hold her tongue. “Turning him into a vampire was a good idea, but of course it proved insufficient! What could be done but to rob him of his precious family? Regardless, he only succumbs to your curse because he gave up. A god hiding in the mind and body of a bloodsucker by choice. Safe as you may be, it remains his will.”“I will mirror thy words! I rid Mikaela of his desire to exist. So long as he fears returning, Yuichiro’s existence means nothing. And I can kill his lover again—”“You sure?”His jaw ached holding his mouth in place. He wouldn’t be caught cackling without remorse. The queen spared her out of desperation. It wasn’t enough to destroy of her. She had to prove her wrong. The idea she indulged in a country falling to her feet, all the while she was backed into the corner… Shinoa grinned for the both of them. “Your son’s awakening now, your majesty. My experiments with the blood yielded terrifying success!”“… Thou hast fed him.” It was easy, really. A spoonful mixed in his mug of bedtime blood. “Indeed! You’ve seen it, yes? The graveyard in front of his bedroom was the first result.”He remembered the night he encountered such a breath-taking sight. Surely, he thought, it’d disappear when Mikaela awoke. But out of a heart-wrenching grief from the bottom of his soul did it persist.The proper burial his lover never had.Ferid told Mikaela he’d planted them, and he believed him. “The second, his lover’s rebirth.”What a pure wish it’d been. He didn’t recreate a Yuichiro who loved him just as before, nor did he re-enter the world with any memories intact. He only wished his soul returned. This, too, he enacted without awareness. A mere year later, and a daughter was born to the Hiragi family divined with Mahiru’s demon-sullied spirit. He could have wept for the savior of his ennui returning by his side. She sought him out at age fourteen. “The third is a key slowly unlocking his heart.”She’d displayed a finger for each miracle and admired them as though they sparkled like jewels. “What would happen to him now, I wonder, should you re-traumatize him with Yuichiro’s murder? Would it truly bring my progress to ruin?”Death noted Shinoa that morning. “Or would it awaken him in one fell swoop? Well! I daresay you’re trapped!”At that moment, Krul’s composure withstood the brunt of her hatred no longer. Upon its collapse, she ripped her meters-long cape from her shoulders. As it floated to the shadows below, so did she descend from her throne. She treated Ferid to one of his favorite sights. Her fingers aligned, curved like a blade, and she thrust them below the ribcage. Her body itself a scabbard, an elongated sword of silver emerged from the depths of her belly—far too long for a regular human to carry. “Whatever trap thou believe I hath fallen in, there remains a soul I could eradicate from this world.”“Who did you have in mind—”When Krul swung her enchanted blade, a harrowing sound exploded from her mere cut of the air. Had his partner been an ordinary mortal, she would have flown across the chamber.“Whoops!” Shinoa cried, “Protect me, Ashera!”Come now. That was just rude.Manifesting from beneath the estate was a sword as dark as night. Shinoa charged forward and intercepted yet another devastating swing from Krul. The sound brought about was not metal-against-metal but the echo of a ghoulish voice. “That blade!! Only Mahiru Hiragi can wield it! Thy lies end here!”“Our souls are more connected than I have led on, but I am I, and she is she!”
“Die!”
His partner was disposed to laugh at everything, and a battle of life and death proved to be no exception. Bombarded with endless cleaves, she fended off a progenitor without a sweat. Ferid gave vent to a sigh of relaxation.“How disillusioned my sister was! Kidnapping your disciple for all your secrets, starving him until he confessed, only for him to end up a demon!” She dodged the way she waltzed: a graceful fluidity across the stage. “The god she sought, the oracle she sealed within this blade, both were nothing more than blood sucking demons!”
“Silence!”
“A vampire who posed as a god, a god sullying himself as a vampire! The Illustrious family is full of fakes!”
“Return my brother!”
Despite her teasing, the curtain call would arrive soon. As Shinoa grabbed her adversary’s hand, performing an underarm turn to free herself from another slice, Ferid discerned the smallest, darkest protrusion from the crown of her skull. Her laughter took on a more masculine affect.
“I cannot! Mahiru was the one who trapped him within! Maybe when Mikaela awakens, he’ll take pity on you and revive him! Or have you ruined all hope of good favor!? Is that why you’re afraid!?”
Krul’s scream thundered against Shinoa’s ears, and at last, her sword pillaged between her adversary’s ribcage. Blood splattered about their stage.To discern what occurrences were a piece of her plan or a spontaneous outcome was never clear, and he appreciated her for it. But not enough to stand with her.“Wh-Whoops…” Shinoa observed, stumbling away from the sword. Little shards of bone followed. “Got a bit careless…”Having flung her own creation to the side, Krul lunged for her brother’s resting place at once, cradling it as it tore into her gown. Shinoa held her abdomen and smiled. “He’s healing me… yes, it appears we’ve become friends too. Though I feel… a sad confusion that’s not my own…” She raised a bloodied fist into the air. “Okay, okay. I give. I’m not trying to die.” “Thy life is no longer in thy hands—”Without warning, Shinoa dropped her necklace. It rolled along the ceremonial carpet and at Krul’s feet, to which she earned no more than a distrustful glare. “Your doubt stings! I assure you it’s the real deal. The last of Mikaela’s ‘human’ blood.” Krul braced for another stunt when Shinoa grasped her hair-bow, but she merely returned to a tall, wounded viscount. “I don’t have enough… for a new cult,” She promised, staggering backward. “And the blood of his vampire self lacks the same affect. I… tested it.”Typical of an experienced showrunner, as she stood upon the window sill, she blew a farewell kiss to her audience.“Give that to Prince Illustrious. If you’re so sure he’s suppressed… let him drink it. Prove you’re in control. Unless you don’t believe…”And with that, she fell out the window. Ferid took it upon himself to follow the queen, but neither the thunderous impact of a fall that high, nor a splattered corpse, could be found. There to greet their gazes were a flock of blood servants, confused and delighted. They opened their palms to capture mysteriously raining rose petals. “Ferid Bathory.”At the call of his name, raw fury immobilized the queen. Had the mercy of the morning clouds remained stationary, rather than offering flecks of sunlight on her flesh, he assumed she would have stayed there for eons. She traded Mahiru’s sword for her descendant’s necklace.“Bring me Mikaela.”“Yes, Your Majesty.”He’d grown trickier to find since he and Yuichiro’s blossoming companionship. No longer did he spend his days awaiting blood or a new visitor in the solitude of his chamber, nor did he replace his room for Yuichiro’s. They embarked on many journeys through the estate. Nevertheless, the time he spent retrieving the queen’s progeny was a gift, for it was ample time to gather her composure. “Mikaela,” She welcomed softly upon his entrance, “My darling little son. Wilt thou inspect a gift I received?”She plucked the tiny cork from the glass bottle. What talent she had for masking her anxiety in passive language. Inspect. Do not drink. Perhaps now Ferid could smile. “Inhale its scent. Canst thou guess the human’s age?” Mikaela obeyed, and a moment later, collapsed. The blood in his irises darkened into the dismaying black Ferid expected. The paleness of his face befit that of a ghost.Such an elegant corpse. It inspired him to paint. “He rejected it posthaste!” Krul giggled, “’Tis very pleasing!”She kneeled and pushed his eyelids over his catatonic gaze.“The princess may claim to ‘trap’ me all she likes. But I am the one who prevailed. ’Twas I who took down a god.”Assuming the role of her confidant once more, Ferid affirmed, “Indeed. There’s nothing to fear.”He cradled his slumbering master in his arms. “The connection between Yuichiro Hyakuya and Yuichiro Ariadust eludes him.”“Swell.”Relief had no stay in her voice, driven to morose reflection as she was.“His eyes… not as dull a red as before. Henceforth, his true sire’s blood will be a greater part of his diet. Doth Urd Geales deliver vials during his visit?” “Yes.”“That only leaves her accomplice. Someone within these walls assists her.”Ferid settled for a bow of his head.“My apologies. I was careless about how many pawns she had around the kingdom. I’ll see to it her partner is eliminated. As for Mikaela, he’ll receive even greater supervision.”Silence reigned, during which a glimmer of suspicion flashed in Krul’s sharp eyes.“… Do so.”She offered a finger for Arcanu to perch and extended it toward Mikaela. “Thou art a splendid pet. Continue to watch over my progeny. Ferid, devise whatever story necessary to justify his collapse.”No need. He never asked.“And you?” Krul returned her attention to the blade leaning against the wall. “… I shall return my brother to his resting place.”“Yes, your majesty.”How often Ferid descended the steps from the queen’s chamber, untouched by the feet of many. Reactions were mesmerized, the order Krul Illustrious set up for her vampire residents made time crawl like a worm, and his duty as ‘the council’ transformed into a dreary chore of choosing tiresome aristocrats. Indeed, she remained determined to keep her long-established sanctuary from being a stage, a show twisting and turning. “You sleep so soundly,” He observed, bringing Mikaela closer to his chest. “I wonder if you can dream now.”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

July 1365
Mikaela lost his family’s voice and chased it about the darkest caverns beneath the palace. Ravaging his sensitive ears was his own name, moaned with lustful anguish by the hoards of surrounding vampires above. Their outbursts joined the cacophony of broken windows and collapsing columns. Even the crackle and hiss of the torches aligning the rotting walls had a torturous distraction to them.Any sound that wasn’t Yuichiro worsened his panic.
‘No…! Where is he!?’
When tears stung the corners of his eyes, he slowed his pace and rested his hand beneath a torch.‘Concentrate…’ He told himself. He closed his eyes and released more tension with a shaky breath, full of smoke and the ash of dead vampires. The draft invaded even the darkest and untouched segments of his childhood prison. None of that was of consequence.
‘I won’t find him if I can’t relax…’
He honed his senses. His sensitive ears cleaved through the racket of Krul’s war, and he swallowed to soothe the sting in his throat.“… Yu!?”His voice had the endurance of a spark and was muffled yet again, but that was all he needed to race toward the upper north corner of the palace’s underbelly.‘I’m not losing you!’A fleeting image appeared in his mind of Yuichiro outstretching his hand, and his pace quickened further than he thought possible.Just as he pressed his ear against the wall, the old stone met its end in an explosion. Debris flew past him, his keen eyes intercepting each jagged rock fragment as he blocked his face with his arms. Moonlight flooded into the vacancy of the underground prison, and descending like angels came a hoard of vampires.Their faces were jarring. The tears of ecstasy, the drool running from their mouths, their voices drunk with affection, clashed with the hollowness of their eyes. On all their lips was his name.“At last…” One mumbled, stumbling past the light. Mikaela took an instinctive step backward.“A sip more, I beg of you…”Mikaela took further haven into the shadows. “You’re…”Her visage took him back to his days as livestock, back when he volunteered his blood in his family’s stead. He’d fed many of Krul’s ‘disciples.’ The fingers reaching out to him like claws had wrapped around his neck many times. The manner in which her hair hit the light revealed it was still the silver of metal, short and choppy as though she adorned her head with shredded paper.He’d never seen her so pitiful, so riddled with the stench of desperation.“You stand before us as pure and beautiful as you were then,” Another familiar face appealed. Once dignified and never-blinking, he now approached him with a shameless crawl on his knees.“Let me tell you,” said yet another, “how often your blood stays in my thoughts!”As their praises blended together, Mikaela attempted to weave through the crowd, but faces joyful and teary swarmed him like wasps.
“Don’t leave! I love you dearly!”

“Stay! The aching in my chest will not cease! A sip is all I ask!”

“I’ll crush anything and anyone between us! I won’t be abandoned!”

“For 400 years I’ve felt nothing! Have you no pity on us!? Must you despise us!? Mikaela!”

“Go away!”
Despite an elbow to the chest or claw to the face, a vampire lanky and tall slithered from the crowd and tucked Mikaela’s arm beneath her’s.“Whatever you think I did, I didn’t do! I couldn’t…!” He wailed amidst the promises of protection, begging of recognition, and exhalation of his very existence.“His humility blinds him! What a precious boy he is!”A wily face with eyes of burning fire overwhelmed Mikaela’s vision and tore any fabric segregating her and his neck.
“Stop!”
“Halt.”The command that silenced the congregation had a disquieting enchantment that overpowered the chaos outside. Every hand upon Mikaela stilled, and a young woman of indeterminate race emerged from the moonlight. Her sharp stare and horns stretched from her skull belonged to that of a demon. Her blood, scarcely visible from beneath her skin, however, bore the scent of a human.The vampires she brought alongside her remained heeled, despite their repulsive stares on him.In her left hand was a blade dark as night, letting out the occasional pulsation running from her elegant hand to her shoulder, but in her right rose a vial that lifted her followers’ gazes.“Is this what you seek?” She giggled.Mikaela narrowed his eyes, for trapped beneath her voice was one more masculine and familiar.When she joined him in the darkness and tossed her mysterious vial down the caverns, Mikaela’s flock ravished one another to grab it. Biting and clawing abounded, they stained their bodies of blood from wounds that healed in an instant.“That should keep those curs busy,” his mysterious guest assured, “The vial won’t open without my touch.”She threw him an apologetic glance.“It seems those who drank from the source are more difficult to tame. But I promise my good ones won’t touch you.”A sigh of relief, and her expression shared a colder reverence than the vampires surrounding her. She extended her free hand despite their distance.“Mahiru Hiragi. At last we meet, secret treasure of Illustrious.”He didn’t have time to thank her. He continued toward Yuichiro’s voice. But in seconds, the air itself reeled from the cut of her sword, and she threatened his neck with the tip.“Is this how you express gratitude?”
“Out of my way! I need to find—”
“It is through my command that these creatures don’t chase after you. Disrespect my good will and I will retract the favor.”Mikaela allowed himself but a fleeting glance at the vampires who salivated and gasped at his eye contact.“What do you want!?” He yelled through their chorus of moans.At this, Mahiru’s smile only deepened. Though his helplessness only intensified the excited glow on her face, her tone grew stern, and her blade pressed further against his larynx.“That fear in your eyes… it isn’t for me. Do you fear your own thirst?”She dragged an impossibly sharp nail across her neck, and the back of Mikaela’s throat grew hot as blood trickled along her flesh.“I’ll be glad to share mine!”“Who are you?” left his lips after a shamefully hard swallow.Mahiru smiled. “A charming songstress.”So long as he made it clear he wouldn’t dignify her with a response, he endured the whispers of his name.“… Interesting,” she mused. Definitely not human. Her wound closed with the perfection of a bloodsucker’s. “You refuse to drink from a person? It’s a shame you can’t suckle off mother dearest when she’s busy fighting a delicate girl—”
“Leave me alone! My family’s—!”
“Yes, yes, your sweet little Yuichiro.”Appalled, Mikaela took an involuntary step forward into the tip of her blade. “Tell me where he is!”Her laughter caused a faint spasm of dread he did his best to conceal.“Don’t fret. You have more than enough power to save him.”Her sword retracted from the depths of his skin and now rested daintily beneath his chin.Voice lulled to a whisper, she asked, “But shouldn’t you wonder who’s going to save you?”“… What are you talking about?”“I am your liberator. Your prince. Your ally. You’ll ascend to an eighth progenitor once you take in the blood of a human. But what if you possessed power that far surpasses a vampire’s?”If eliciting trust was her goal, then she’d long since failed, Mikaela thought. The further he bore into her eyes, the more jarringly her smile didn’t reach them. Furthermore, an aura of bloodlust and detached despair rose from her sword like steam.“So I see,” she replied to his thoughts. She delivered him from the tip of her weapon and admired its hilt. “What you feel is Ashera.”“You’re the one who kidnapped him!?” Mikaela shouted, composure deserting him.He knew the steps he took backward were only through her grace, and he both caught and avoided the smiles he earned from her minions. Some had taken to mimicking whatever expression they witnessed upon his face.“Is that disgust in your voice?”Mahiru's expression made it clear she and her demon shared a face, and her eyes belonged to the latter.No matter how great her amusement, their glimmers of sorrow and anger remained.“You were livestock here, yes? Then you must know the truth.”A pause, then Mahiru returned to the moonlight to admire her sword, as if to show its captive the beauty of something truly divine.“… The minute he starved for blood, he dropped his ruse as a ‘divine’ oracle. He screamed, begged for my own and admitted they were playing a game. I, and many others under their rule, sacrificed our families for a game.”However small a portion she kept of her face, she hid it when in pain. Her sword returned not by her side, but clutched in her now bloodied hands.“That wretch. That worthless fraud! She’d never bring my lover back! She’s incapable of saving anyone! Is it not justice I took away her family!?”When she faced him again, the upper and lower parts of her face had cohesion for the first time.“And yet… I miss her,” she confessed, clutching the left side of her chest and smearing it with her wounded palm. “My demon may feed off my wish to end her, but I still mourn when she’s near. What a lovely, terrible sensation…”Patience long exhausted, Mikaela tried his hand at escape once more.“Get him,” He heard beneath her breath.At this, he quickened his pace. Yet one follower leapt into the air with such strength that she toppled over his body. He spent no more than two seconds on the ground, for his capturer trapped him in her arms and brushed the dust off his cloak.“Forgive me, forgive me…” she whispered at the back of his head. A genuine tremble slanted her voice.“You’re so cruel, Mikaela Hyakuya,” said Mahiru, wagging her finger as if scolding a child.A few vampires with ever-present smiles crowded about Mikaela once more, admiring the junction between his neck and shoulder. Licking their lips. Sniffling.“You let these poor souls feast upon your blood, then you abandon them in this wretched state? You should pity them more than I—”“I said I didn’t do anything!”Mikaela attempted to wrestle out of her grasp, but another with fangs inordinately long stole his wrist.
“Damn it! How are they so strong!?”
“They’re nothing compared to you—”“Enough with that! And if you hate Krul and Ashera so much, why haven’t you killed me!?”Mahiru raised a brow, approached him, and wiped her hands on the ethereal cloth of his overcoat.“Do you take me as a fool? She can dress you however she likes. You’re no more an Illustrious than I.”“Then—!”“Join me. I’ll restore you to the true god you are.”A myriad of images flashed through his mind: the strangers lurking along the halls day and night to see him, the sickening smile of his mother, the sorrowful scowls of his father.His hand went limp in her follower’s grasp, and his refusal left his mouth as a mumble.“You’re wrong…”“There are many legends about children being replaced by aberrations in the womb,” Mahiru corrected coldly, “Your existence isn’t far-fetched.”‘It will be all right. You are a chosen child.’Shaking his mother’s words out of his head, he clawed the back of the hand securing his wrist.“It’s true,” Mahiru said, gouging at his childhood wounds. “You were special—”
“Quit toying with me!”
Much to his vexation, his outburst released his wrist from captivity, for his captor, and all the vampires surrounding him, had fallen to their knees. Even the vampires who’d lost themselves to fighting over a vial of blood, tossing and turning until they’d wound up in a dirty prison cell, had released their grips on each other’s throats.
“I’m sick of this act! Tell me where I can find Yu!”
“Goodness, that’s love,” Mahiru ran her fingers through her bangs. “If only you stopped playing human, you’d free yourself from that burden—”She caught Mikaela’s punch. Nails dug into the back of his hand, Ashera’s undertone grew thicker in her voice, as if they spoke at the same time.“Your love for Yuichiro doesn’t disprove my point, you know—”
“Shut up!”
“Gods are quite mutable to their environment. Just as you stimulate and influence everything around you, so might a human of interest bend and twist who you are.”Mikaela refused to dignify her response, to which Mahiru droned, “Pathetic. Even when you stop holding back, I only needed to summon more of Ashera’s power. Why are you so intent on being this weak with me?”“I… said—!”“Is it because I called you a god? Is your denial hindering you?”His knees soon joined the rest of the vampires’ on the dirty cobblestone.“What is so special about this Yuichiro of yours? Maybe I should ask him myself—”
“Stay away from him!”
“‘Stay away!’ As if I hadn’t informed you he’s in my possession! That's what it means to have a one-track mind, eh?”With the ease of tossing a bag of sugar, she threw back his hand, though Mikaela reserved enough dexterity to return to his feet at once.“Stefano,” Mahiru called to the outside world.From the crater in the wall entered a vampire of gigantic stature, and locked in his arms was Yuichiro, his mouth covered by the wide expanse of his hand. In his confines, his family appeared as fragile as Mikaela’s fears perceived him.“Yu!”Before a second thought appeared in Mikaela’s head, Yuichiro was in his arms, ripped viciously from the follower whose face he couldn’t recall. Yuichiro said his name, of that he was certain, but checking his body for wounds took priority.“See?” Mahiru chided, “How quickly you retrieved him! Why, he’s stronger than the vampire who caught you prior! Too desperate to remember your weakness?”This, too, he gave no reply.His brain was too busy telling him that should he let go of his family, he’d disappear, and only halfway through his embrace of Yuichiro did the sound of the world return at last.“… ka! Mika! I’m fine, really!”He released him from his embrace on the unverbalized condition they remained hand-in-hand. Considerate of such and privy to his moods, Yuichiro interlocked their fingers.“You’re so protective!” Mahiru observed, idly swinging her blade across the floating dust. “It’s no wonder he survived my beheading. I gave his neck a good chop, and the flesh reattached!”She gazed from beneath her lashes and brought the back of her sword to her lips. “Want me to show you?”There to stop Mikaela’s mind from going into a frenzy was a compassionate shout of “Stop trying to scare Mika!”“Don’t play dumb for him. Be honest. Did I or did I not cut your head off?”Yuichiro folded his arms across his chest. “Not telling.”“Oh, you’re very obstinate. I see why you two get along. You’re glaring, but do reserve your anger for someone else. I’m not the one keeping secrets from you. Isn’t that right, Mikaela?”“Whatever!” Yuichiro scoffed, facing Mikaela and sheltering his hands in his. Though his was a face he preferred most, Mikaela peered over his shoulder, watching the threat lurking behind him.“Mika wouldn’t hide anything from me!”‘What’s the correct action…? How do I save Yu?’ Repeated ad nauseam in his head. To run off now might put Yuichiro in danger, giving him injuries he couldn’t sustain with as much ease. Her followers grew docile, but would his very presence rouse them? How would they treat Yuichiro without Mahiru’s command?“I found you, so let’s get out of here!”
“Yu—!”
In two steps, Mahiru leapt across the rubble and made a clean slice across Yuichiro’s neck. Blood painted the debris, stained the hand he used to hold Mikaela’s, but before Mikaela could even scream, eyes equally startled stared back at him.He didn’t hallucinate.Yuichiro ran his fingers across his jugular vein, searching for the pulse Mikaela heard with meager focus.“… I’m still alive?”A pair of arms wrapped around Yuichiro’s neck. More so than Mikaela’s glare, Mahiru reveled in the way his face twisted in disgust when she licked away the blood from his cheek.“Eighteen years ago, a barren woman made offerings to a god in the form of a Lammergeier. Gods are everywhere and nowhere, you see. They can take the form of anything, and they like to play the part. Regardless, some are better at noticing their presence than others.”Yuichiro lowered his brows.“… What’re you talking about—”“For 108 moons,” she continued, “she broke open the bones of animal carcasses so that the ‘vulture’ may feed on their marrow. As thanks, the god granted her wish for a child and reincarnated itself into her womb.”Mikaela paled. Words couldn’t come out, no matter how much he looked into Yuichiro’s eyes and pleaded with his own. All he managed was shaking his head.Snuggling Yuichiro’s temple against hers, Mahiru sang, “The child looked nothing like his parents. His hair was the gold of the Lammergeier’s irises, his eyes its splendorous claws. When an illness struck the village and infected everyone but him, his mother was convinced he was given, not conceived.”She stretched her finger toward Mikaela and grinned. “’Mikaela.’ So literal it borders on lazy.”Standing there frozen in the manner a child caught in the act made his blood boil, but the moment he gathered the will to part his lips—“Wait a sec… are you saying Mika’s—”“Precisely. And what a precious gift he was! It’s no wonder his father hated him.”“Hey! Don’t say something like that!”“But it’s true.”Something elusive lurked beneath Mahiru’s words. Sharp as a scalpel, they cut through his defenses. He couldn’t look at Yuichiro, no matter how much he felt his gaze.“Put yourself in his shoes, Yuichiro. It must’ve been hell, being around someone whose heart was so perfectly benevolent and detached, so dull to malice of any kind, that every time he stared at him he saw what an ugly, miserable human he was.”The ghosts of old bruises throbbed beneath Mikaela’s skin. He bit his lip.“He’d hit you, wouldn’t he? And no matter how much he did, you’d say the most loving things. Because in truth, it never caused you pain.”“… I wasn’t—”He wasn’t immune to his father’s staring at him like a monster who broke his family. Each time he refused to say his name, referring to him as ‘that child,’ it broke his heart. His childhood was a never-ending attempt to please the ones he should have called mother and father, to make them laugh, to let his parents know he loved them.That he was a person.“… I just,” Mikaela found himself saying, disgusted at the impulse.“… I wanted them to like me—”“But alas! He was too below you. And so were the vampires you’d offer your ever-flowing supply of blood.” She broke into a fit of laughter that rattled his spine. “Come now, was it not strange how many vampires you fed in a single night? Did you ever wonder how!? I bet they saw it in your eyes, too. How pathetic they were in comparison.”His fingers slipped from Yuichiro’s grasp, who caught them immediately.“… Mika?”“His father lost his wife to worship. All she did was pray to her child. She would have died of starvation if he hadn’t convinced her to give you to Illustrious. Such a great god deserved the company of another, right?”“How do you know any of this!?” He heard Yuichiro demand.Another unfazed answer. “A demon feeds on a human’s heart. Whatever desire or fear manifests within, I can see it.”Her smirk slithered within her voice. He didn’t have to look at her.“One glance, and I learned everything about Mikaela.”“That’s—!”“Everything. There’s nothing about him I don’t know. He wasn’t noble in his childhood. Nor did he possess a better moral compass. He’s never been human—”“You’re lying!”Had he been human, the grip Yuichiro had on his hand would’ve hurt.“Oh?”“Of course Mika’s human! He’s smart, and stupidly nice, and he takes care of everyone, and he’s stubborn, and he makes great food out of garbage! And… and even if he wasn’t, who cares about anything you’re saying!? He’s still my family! And he needs me!”There it was. He was so good at it—speaking of others in a way that felt like being held, that he was always safe with him.That arrogant love engulfed his heart in flames.“My! It’s no wonder you’re so attached to him,” Mahiru teased, holding Yuichiro tighter.“Peering into your own heart… You want love. Without the affection of others, you have no reason to exist—”“Get off me already—!”“Being with your beloved Mika must’ve planted those sentiments in him as well. I daresay you changed him as much as he changed you.”For the first time, Mahiru grew solemn. She released Yuichiro at last and rested a hand on Mikaela’s shoulder.“But should you lose him, everything you internalized may disappear.”
“Mahiru Hiragi!”
Another explosion rattled the depths of the palace’s underground, and a river of blood splattered along the stone. Each vampire lining the exit had been decapitated. When the dust cleared, and the draft carried out the wet, glowing embers of vampire ash, in their place stood Krul Illustrious. The blood of her victims evaporated off her blade.“How quickly our delightful time has passed. Well.”Black flames spread from Mahiru’s blade, engulfing their surroundings in a pool of violet that consumed the moonlight. The torches’ flames flickered, blackened, and swelled.“So you’ve made up your mind?” She asked, giving a last glance over her shoulder. “You won’t leave with me?”Yuichiro answered for them.“Not interested!”“Suit yourself.” Mahiru raised her blade in the rear-guard position. “Ah, I smell bloodlust on you. Is it time to return me to my lover?”Krul mimicked her stance.“Mikaela…”Despite her growl, Mikaela discerned her call amidst the mournful howls of Mahiru’s blade.“Take Yuichiro and go.”At last.Mikaela lifted his family into his arms and ran with no end in sight. Any protest went unheard. He refused to put him down until they reached an untouched haven of the underground prison. Soon he found an oasis of silence free from destruction, with the roots of an old tree burrowing against the floor. Vines scattered across the ceiling, and enough fires hung against the walls to accommodate Yuichiro’s vision.“Mika!”Yuichiro pushed himself out of his arms, but Mikaela caught his shoulder before he stumbled onto the ground.“What gives? Why’d she say all that stuff about your parents!? I thought…”As far as Yuichiro had known, Mikaela never knew his mother and father.Frightened by the words that fell from his lips, his mind once again became a frenzy of desperate justifications and refusals, all tied in an incomprehensible knot out of which his brain made no sentence.“Mika… please.”The comfort gracing both his shoulders compelled him to step forward, but he remained obstinate.“Talk to me! Why’d you look so scared back there!?”
“Because I lied!”
His eyes dropped to the sanctuary of the tiny roots spread between their feet, and he wrapped his arms around himself.“I don’t believe I’m a god or anything of the sort…”If he was, then why did all the other Hyakuyas die? Why wasn’t he able to protect them? Why couldn’t he keep his parents from abandoning him?Why would he allow Yuichiro to live in this place?“But I never… felt human. Because nobody treated me like one.”A strike in the face by his father or the neglectful affection from his mother didn’t register as abuse. He didn’t know other kinds of interactions existed.“I didn’t care what happened to me or my body, and I didn’t feel anything when he sent me away.”Yuichiro remained silent, but it was one of intimate confidentiality. It radiated from his touch alone and powered Mikaela’s next words.“But then I met you.”Not once had his parents loved him, and he was able to say that in confidence because of the love he found in Yuichiro.“You were the first person to treat me like I was one too. And I didn’t want that to go away.”He’d rejected him at first, declaring he ‘couldn’t have a family.’ That he was a demon and deserved to be thrown away as a sacrifice to Illustrious. Even this, however, was a novelty, and it planted a seed of fascination within him.Such a lovely person couldn’t have been a demon who replaced ‘the real Yuichiro’ in the womb. And if he was, Mikaela rejoiced at the circumstance.“Part of me thought if you learned how my mother saw me, you’d become like her or my father.”Being locked away as livestock was the happiest time in his life, as ugly as that sounded in his head.“When I offered my blood in your stead, and you yelled at me when I came home, I didn’t cry because you upset me. I was overwhelmed. I never experienced someone being concerned for me like that. It… was terrifying. And wonderful.”He admired Yuichiro’s features, cupped his hand against his neck and let the heartbeat against his palm soothe him.“That’s why I hid everything, and I used you… My wanting a genuine family, being loved, I projected every desire I had onto you and made myself your burden. I’m so sorry.”Yuichiro cocked his head with a snicker, one tender enough for Mikaela to swallow a whimper.“So what? You can use me. It’s not like I’m any different.”What a beautiful laugh. The thought passed that he’d die to protect it.“I told you about my parents. If it weren’t for you taking me in, I’d probably still think everyone would be happier if I was dead. No one ever needed me the way you do!”With a grin he knew was Mikaela’s favorite, he waved a finger at himself.“Besides, I’m really selfish! Sometimes I do super reckless stuff just to hear how much you want me to be safe! Having you say those things… I need it more than you know.”He released Mikaela’s shoulders and cradled his face in his hands. “So no apologizing, okay?”“Yu…”His face drew nearer in return, tilting his chin to accept Yuichiro’s lips. To return to his kiss was always a homecoming. Their mouths glided together so smoothly. Consuming the breath of a living person brought a warmth that unfolded within him like a flower. He loved hearing Yuichiro’s heartbeat speed up, and he’d make sure to catch a glimpse of the flush adorning his cheeks.He head-butted him the second they parted.
“Owww! What the hell, Mika!?”

“You’re such an idiot! How many times have I told you not to run off looking for me!?”
“Stupid! What choice did I have!?” Yuichiro snapped, rubbing his forehead. “You could’ve been sick or hurt or attacked by a vampire! And then what!?”“… I’m a vampire!”“Oh, okay! That makes it all better, doesn’t it!? I hear my family screaming in agony, tortured by ten-thousand bloodsuckers yelling for him—”“I didn’t scream! And no one tortured me!”“You could’ve been! And I’m supposed to let you be all alone because you’re not human! Thanks for clearing that up!”“You know that’s not what I mean! I can take care of myself! What if something happened to you!?”Mikaela gathered himself for the two of them. “We’re… you’re the only Hyakuya left.”Saying their name always brightened his spirits. Back when they were small, and the younger children were still alive, he’d taken a deck of cards from Ferid’s parlor used for teaching kanji. A family needed a name that bound them together, and he wanted a brand-new one. That night, Yuichiro and the others mixed and matched until they found a phrase they liked. Yuichiro had chosen ‘hundred,’ and another combined it with ‘night.’“That’s not true! Just because Krul turned you—”“Yu—”“No! Maybe I care about you, too! Ever think of that!? How I’d feel if I lost you!?”Mikaela smiled sadly, feigning deep thought as if the answer didn’t come to him immediately.“… You’d live on. It would hurt, but someday you’d be fine.”“Hold on a sec! I’d—”Covering his lips with his fingers, Mikaela continued, “You’re nice. You’d make more friends so easily, and they’d help you get through your grief. Then you’d keep fighting.”Since their escape, Mahiru’s premonition scratched at the darkest depths of his mind. It stung, how she alluded to his biggest fear, ever-present since he became a vampire and Yuichiro’s mortality diverged so drastically from his own. He often soothed himself with an internal promise, one that assured Yuichiro’s death would mean the end of himself, too.Whatever that ‘end’ entailed, he refused to dwell on it further.“I’m not like that. If I lost you, I’d…” He shook his head. “So it’s more important you live instead. As long as you’re safe—”
“Shut up!”
Spending his every day with him, Mikaela figured Yuichiro would push back on his assertion, but he didn’t expect the tears threatening to fall from his luminous, blindsided eyes.“That’s not good enough, Mika!” He shouted, seizing his arms once more. “I don’t care if I’m ‘okay!’ What does that even matter if I can’t see you!? I wanna be with you!”Mikaela lowered Yuichiro’s hands from his shoulders but never released them. Entwining their fingers served as an unspoken apology.“… I thought you wanted to stay with me,” Yuichiro pouted.
“Of course I do! I—”
His distressed affirmation earned him a pinkie finger thrusted before his face.“Then promise! If anyone separates us, we’re going to fight to stay together! If you don’t, I won’t forgive you for lying!”Mikaela sighed.“Yu, that’s childish…”“Promise!”A silence passed that Yuichiro prepared to endure for as long as possible until Mikaela caved in. And he always did. One of the best sounds in the world, Yuichiro once said, was the sound of Mikaela’s laughter after letting him have his way.“And how will you fight, exactly?”“With my fists! I’ll get powerful enough to fight a vampire! I’ll do push-ups or something! Trust me.”Mikaela opened his mouth, but his mind stole the sound.He wouldn’t let this go further.
No…

I don’t want to see this anymore! I don’t want to remember!

They’ll lock me away… I’ll get thirsty…

Why did I scream? You filthy, ugly bloodsucker! Why was your thirst more important than his life!?

Why did you scream!?

He’ll chase after you. He always does. They found him before—

Don’t die in front of me again. Take my blood.

Please don’t disappear.

Don’t thirst like I did.

You liar! If love could save him, he never would have died!

I can’t hear your voice anymore!

Why can I still taste your blood!?

Please… don’t wake up…
“Mika?”Mikaela opened his eyes. He wasn’t sure how, but he returned to his room.Yuichiro Ariadust was there. He sat on the edge of his bed.“Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you!”His face appeared strange. It blurred at times. Then he would see it at another place. It was hard to believe either existed.“Uh… I wanted to take you to this secret blood cellar my friend has, but then I found you asleep!”Mikaela sat up.Yes, it appeared he had been sleeping. On the other hand, he had the faintest recollection of being somewhere else.“I’ve never seen you do that before. Heck, I didn’t even know you could!”He was waiting for Yuichiro Ariadust’s face to go back to normal, so he didn’t reply.“Well, didn’t mean to bother you. If you’re still tired, get some rest—”Mikaela didn’t understand why, but he held onto Yuichiro Ariadust’s sleeve before he left. When he touched him, the nebulousness of his face went away, as did the odd sensation seizing him by the throat.“Yu.”“Hm?”Despite calling him, he couldn’t articulate his confusion well, so he gave up and asked a simpler question instead.“… Who are you?”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

“And then, Fumie told me Lady Chess wanted a four-year-old girl’s blood, not six! As if there could be that much of a difference! I ask you, is there!?”On a warm, quiet night at the Illustrious estate, every vampiric soul gathered about the dining hall for the evening’s final meal. Their chatter had the relaxing hum of a summer night’s insects, and the ever-present scent of blood subdued Yuichiro into a lazy dreariness.None of this influenced Akane, however.While he awaited Mikaela’s presence on the upper balcony, she prattled on about her latest skirmish with a coworker.“How should I know?” He laughed, yet a vague restlessness shifted him in his seat.“Tell me! Do you suppose I could have ruined her entire afternoon and compelled her to drink me instead?”“Hard to say. She’s pretty dramatic.”
“You’re kidding!”
His grin reassured that he spoke in jest. She rolled her eyes and continued to knead his forearm with her knuckles.“That’s your third argument this week, isn’t it?”“Third time this month, thank you!” Akane followed his eyes to the congregation of vampires below. “For all her yelling, you’d think she’d be happy when I’m absent! But then…”“Hm?”“… She gave me her favorite kerchief when she noticed I had blood on my hands. And she warmed my dinner when I was late. So I don’t have a clue what to make of her!”Kimizuki fresh in his mind, Yuichiro offered his fingers with a gentle smile. “Seems obvious to me. You’re family. Getting mad every now and again won’t stop you from being close.”A Kimizuki-like bashfulness colored her features. From below, a maid hummed a tune to help her remember the age and gender of her patrons’ preferences.“Humph… anyway—relax your fingers—I’m friends with an Illustrious! If you think about it, what am I doing still being a maid?”“Who’s this Illustrious friend you speak of?”Akane scoffed.“You silly! Who else?”“Hate to disappoint you, but I’m not an Illustrious.”‘And neither is Mika,’ he added to himself.His correction earned a dismissive, yet self-satisfactory, encroachment of his personal space. The end of Akane’s ponytail brushed against the back of his hand, and so close was she he could almost feel her breath on his temple.“… Oh? After your run-in with Viscount Yamada, I thought that’d be the first thing you’d request.”“Um!”Dropping his arm as though it were scorching and face flushed, Akane faltered, “D-Don’t get the wrong idea! I don’t not love Prince Illustrious if that’s what you’re thinking. More so, you’ve angered me since that very day.”“Wh—”“Shush!” She pinched his lips. “I’m food to him! But you!? To hear such a confession and continue on about your day! Man, the things I’d say if I were in your place…! What a shame!”“…”Yuichiro loved Mikaela.Shinoa’s visit made that perfectly clear, but he couldn’t argue. It hadn’t occurred to him to bring it up.Not when Mikaela hardly comprehended his own feelings.But therein lived another problem.Would he know Yuichiro cared about him to this extent if he didn’t say it outright?A long, gliding stroke along his forearm pulled him from reverie.“Besides, if I have a friend with more power, my secret cellar could expand! Then I’ll enlist Chihiro, then move out of the storage unit, and—““So that’s your motive!” He laughed, thankful for the opportunity to approach another subject.Akane patted her chest. “I can put aside a romantic rivalry for the sake of my career.”“How kind of you.”Returning his arm, Akane celebrated her finished work with a hearty stretch.“Aaaand done! What do you think? Can I add massages to my list of services?”He regretted the apologetic smile curving his mouth, for she reacted just as he expected.“Well…”“Awww, don’t tell me it’s bad! I’ve been studying for weeks!” A crumpled piece of paper made its way out of her apron’s pocket. “Your arm should feel like a dream!”“I’m sure it does! It’s just…” Here Yuichiro chose his words with care. “Nothing feels as good as blood tastes.”“Nothing’s as good as the prince’s blood, you mean,” She dismissed, but her words awakened in her a newfound interest. She pushed the empty flute glass to the edge of the table and leaned where it stood.“Spill,” She appealed, eyes sparkling. “How is he?”At this, too many thoughts crowded his head, providing him nothing but a grimace.“Uh oh. I know that face.”Akane dragged the chair designated for the prince next to his own. When sitting in it backward proved impossible, she propped herself on its arm.“Prince Illustrious troubles?”Yuichiro frowned, and he ceased looking at her.“Sort of. He’s been acting weird lately.”“…Weirder than usual?”“He stares at me more,” He affirmed, “like he’s trying to figure me out. Or remember something! But every time I tell him the answer, he still won’t believe me!”Or more accurately, he couldn’t internalize it, but such phrasing required more work to explain.Akane rocked her chair, as she was wont to do when in deep thought.“Maybe you should…”A grandfather clock carried the rest of her suggestion away.Its chime sounded long after the subjects of Illustrious excused themselves. He’d grown to be irritated with it, for its song represented his time with Mikaela coming to an end, a long cleaning session holding Akane hostage, and a wearisome wait for the latter’s bath and bedtime routines to end.“And now he’s late for dinner!”“Late?”Raising her brow, Akane pointed out, “Prince Illustrious isn’t coming tonight. You won’t see him until tomorrow evening—”Yuichiro exploded from his chair.
“What!? Why didn’t you tell me!?”
“Isn’t that why you allowed me up here!?”“Until he showed up! Where is he!?”Akane gestured for his ear, stood on her toes, and whispered, “Reiko said that Momoe told her that Fumie mentioned he’s in heat right now.”
“Since when!?”
“Since this afternoon! Lord Ferid delivered him a snack, and it only strengthened his thirst! When he gets like that, only a vampire’s blood will do, so they shut him up in his room and… Where are you going!?”“To go check on him!” He answered over his shoulder. One of his feet rested on the balcony’s railing.“Right now!?”“When else?” He stretched out his hand. “Wanna walk with me?”To his surprise, Akane’s pallor paled enough to rival a ghost. She jumped back and made an X with her arms.
“Heck no! We’re not allowed near the whole left-wing!”

“You say that like I don’t know you!”
She, the woman who took refuge in his cape to spy on a visitor, who ventured out into the gardens of the prince to go hunting for the dead.Following his accusatory thoughts, she elaborated, “If it was just a matter of getting in trouble and scolded I wouldn’t care, but haven’t you heard of Yuji!? That one esquire’s brother!?”Yuichiro tilted his head.“Oh. Right,” was all he could muster before jumping in the noble’s area below.“I’ll be back!”“Can I stay up here!?” Akane whisper-yelled over the balcony.Yuichiro gave her a thumbs-up. “Sure! In fact, I think you’ll have company soon! I heard Ferid—”That got her down.His scare tactic, however, transformed into prophecy, for descending the stairs of the grand foyer’s left-wing strutted the aforementioned vampire.“Why hello there, Yuichiro!” He waved, posture perfect. “You’re in a hurry.”On the step where their paths crossed, Yuichiro threw him a dirty look.“I’m checking on Mika. Like his servant should.”“My master desires solitude on the eve of his heat.”
“Doesn’t he have enough alone time here!?”
Surely he knew what a failure he’d be at persuading him. Him, of all people.“The situation differs,” Ferid countered, “His thirst should be rampant by the time the sun rises. I’d think twice about spending the night—”“I don’t care what you think!”Indignation powered him through the grand foyer, past the halls, and across the garden whose disquieting power had no effect.“Mika?” Three knocks followed. “It’s me.”Silence.“Can I come in?”“Yes.”A little sigh of relief passed through his lips, and he passed the threshold with a smile warm and self-conscious.It fell upon seeing Mikaela.Dressed in his nightshirt and lap veiled by his comforter, a slight rosiness had blossomed upon his cheeks. If he focused his vision, he distinguished the slightest furrow of his brow, often accompanied by a swallow.His frown was scarcely perceptive, and yet it was the most expressive he’d ever seen him.
‘If I was still human… being near him like this would’ve killed me by now.’
“What is it?” Mikaela asked, breaking Yuichiro’s stare.Despite his embarrassment, the familiarity of Mikaela’s tone, without inclination or accent, comforted him enough to sit at the edge of the mattress.“I came to check on you! How’re you feeling?”“Uncomfortable.”The faint spasms of Mikaela’s throat were more noticeable up close. At times, his hand escaped the shelter of his blanket and rubbed it.Even so, Yuichiro thought, he carried himself with unwavering regality.“… How long until you feel better?”“My servant brings my alpha in the morning. Until then, I am to rest in my chamber.”In the lull of their conversation came the humbling realization they were alone.“Your alpha…” Yuichiro twisted up his lips. “Who are they? Do you know?”“No. Many volunteer, but one is chosen.”Yuichiro couldn’t hold back his surprise, but not for lack of trying.
“Why would anyone volunteer for that!?”
“My servant tells me they look forward to the experience.”Yuichiro parted his lips, but not a sound escaped. On second thought, was it surprising? Ferid always went on about vampires being scornful and bored—perhaps a ‘pleasurable’ death from the prince himself was a sacred gift.“So when they get here,” He began, trying to renew their conversation and extend his stay, “You’ll…”Ky’s bite burned worse than the sun. The pain transcended screaming and sent the brain right into shock. For Mikaela’s ‘sacrifice’ to be pleasurable, it could only differ—“Recall your battle with Ky Luc. My venom will liquefy his organs, and I will drink what remains.”“… Oh. Okay.”What made Mikaela so different?Though he couldn’t think of anything else to offer, his heart compelled him to stay, to keep his eyes on his family. The frigidness of his stare had lessened. Exhaustion had a better hold of his features.Though he’d never give Ferid the validation, it made sense they left Mikaela alone for so long.The smell of blood that couldn’t satiate must’ve been an irritant—“Whatever you desire of me, make it known. I want to be alone.”“Erk!”Ferid wasn’t kidding.In fairness, Guren never wanted visitors when his heat was coming. At most he’d entertain banter from the other side of his bedroom door, then demand they either make company with the rosewood or find society elsewhere.“Um… I don’t really…” Yuichiro forced with a constrained half-laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Want anything—”“Your eyes betray you.”
‘Sharp!’
Having conquered the urge to turn his head, Yuichiro anchored his fists to the sheets. He wished he could rub away the warmth spreading across his neck and forehead.“I…! I just heard you’d be here for a while. And I hate when they coop you up in your room.”Mikaela lowered his eyes.“No, not that. There is something else you desire.”Yuichiro attempted to pull himself together so that he might not confirm Mikaela’s suspicions. A ‘desire’ lurked within him, that much was true, but he wasn’t sure how to articulate it.“What’re you talking about!? I…”Mikaela’s face—fresh, radiant, and shrewd—threw him off, and he stammered himself into silence.The former broke it with a newfound subtlety in his voice—agitation.“Fine. If you cannot articulate it…”“Huh?”The fingers dedicated to consoling Mikaela’s throat lowered the ribbon around his nightshirt’s collar. Yuichiro froze while he unclasped each button, leaving the juncture of his neck and shoulder exposed.“You are welcome to drink my blood—”
“That’s not it either!”
Face flushed, he wanted to kick himself for yet another outburst louder than he intended.A brief sigh fell from Mikaela’s lips, one Yuichiro wouldn’t have believed came from him had they not been the only souls present.Excitement and regret fluttered in his breast when Mikaela’s brow slightly furrowed, both for the uncharted territory of his irritation and the triumph of having him express any semblance of emotion.“I cannot understand what you want from me, so do as you please.”‘Whatever gets you out of my room faster,’ He added with his eyes alone.“Can I sit next to you!?” Yuichiro blurted out at once, his focus so intense he flinched when Mikaela responded.“Yes.”Yuichiro pushed back the inner veils on the canopy bed and threw himself in the spot Mikaela had warmed.“You’re right! There was something I wanted!”Mikaela only swallowed in response, but his posture relaxed.“I don’t think—” Another sigh to adjust his nerves— “I’ve ever told you how grateful I am that you saved my life. Twice. I couldn’t see it at first, but I know how much you care about me, even if you have a hard time verbalizing it.”Again Mikaela tortured him with silence, letting his choked and steady voice be the only one present in the room. The atmosphere in his chamber thickened, so much so he heard Arcanu slice it with its little wings.“And I need you to know…”With a spirit bright and serious, he brushed a stray lock behind Mikaela’s ear and held his cheek.His face held, Yuichiro bestowed the other with a kiss.“I need you to know I feel the same way.”Mikaela’s expression was the same as he left it. Fists clenched, Yuichiro pulled himself together enough to see his confession through.“T-There! That’s what I wanted.”This relief soon soured when the silence engulfing them prolonged. Restraining each impulse to fill it or beg for a response, Yuichiro grimaced through his discomfort until, at last, Mikaela traced where Yuichiro’s lips had been.His expression shifted.His eyes widened, fell to his lap, and after a faint tremble of his lips…“Mika? You don’t believe me—?”He snorted.Then came a chuckle to drop Yuichiro’s jaw.Upon the third, before him sat Prince Mikaela ‘Octavus Sator’ Illustrious, not smiling, but laughing.Uproariously. Baring his fangs.Arcanu itself became startled and fluttered around the chamber.Helpless, Yuichiro stammered, “What!? Wha-what’s going on!?”“To do that of all things!” Mikaela cried, “As though I were a lowly human! How adamantly you hide your intentions!”Yuichiro’s ears turned red. “H-Hey!” Of all the ways he could make him smile for the first time.A trace of pity seemed to live in his laugh.His vanity was in pieces.“I’m not hiding anything! That’s how I feel!”Despite his howl-like laughter, his rebuttal reigned Mikaela in, and his utter delight gave way to confusion.“Was that not in jest…?”
“No!”
Mikaela’s head flinched back slightly.“… You never cease to bewilder me.”
“Me!?”
Yuichiro continued picking up the pieces of his wounded pride, shouting, “Give me one good reason why you’re—you’re laughing at me! You’re the one who didn’t argue when Shinoa said you loved me!”“That is because I do.”Such a blunt response stole whatever rebuttal Yuichiro planned to follow up with.“So, there is more to love than desiring your company?” Mikaela continued, displaying a smile that stole Yuichiro’s words for other reasons. “Did I misunderstand?”Not a single thought in Yuichiro’s head helped him elaborate.“Um… Well—”“Even so, I cannot follow your actions at all. Is that… a kiss, my servant called it. Is that not a frivolous, human gesture?”“Ferid…” Yuichiro cursed under his breath.Indeed, Mikaela mentioned he discussed matters like this with him. He could only imagine what impressions his stories left.“… Guess so.”His honesty rewarded him with a different laugh of Mikaela’s, one understated and radiant.“You are quite perplexing. Very well.”“Well what—!?““You wish to console me like a human. I will allow it.”“…”He didn’t even ask whether Yuichiro wanted to console him.He just threw his intentions in his face.The complete lack of timidity left him speechless with shame and gratitude.Leaning forward, Mikaela’s fingers graced the back of Yuichiro’s hand. “Come, show me more while I have time.”‘This is insane…’ Yuichiro thought, his eyes darting all over Mikaela.
‘Was Mika always this…’
“Turn towards me?” He asked before his thoughts got away from him.He held Mikaela’s face with hands slow yet urgent. His hair felt the same way it had in the bath—like he ran his fingers through a clear stream. Aglow with amusement and curiosity, Mikaela mimicked his touch and sent a jolt up his spine.“B-Bring your lips closer to mine.”When Mikaela drew closer, however, Yuichiro pulled back and yelled, “Close your eyes!”Despite his frantic requests, fueled by unbearable anticipation, Yuichiro couldn’t help his unabashed staring. Happiness transformed his sire’s entire face. The despotic chill characterizing his entire countenance remained, yet it made his newfound geniality even more special.The progress in their relationship shined brighter.Every moment they shared led up to this point.He refused to wait for a second more.
‘Here goes!’
Their noses bumped into each other, and Mikaela’s snickering filled the space between them.“W-Wait! I messed up!”“All right. Try again, Yu.”He tried a couple more times, but when he tilted his chin, their lips overlapped with ease. Warming his chest was the same sensation he’d encountered in the bath—an emptiness being filled, a wrong being made right. An awkward clack of their fangs guided them to part their teeth, on Mikaela’s tongue were scarce traces of human blood. Instinct told him it was a young boy’s.He wanted nothing more than to erase it with his own.When he broke their kiss, Mikaela’s smile had disappeared. His expression grew thoughtful, as though the wistfulness that befell Yuichiro prior had passed between their lips.“… What is it?” He asked, restless.Satiating the small hope in his heart, Mikaela answered slowly, “I have never done this before, and yet… it feels familiar.”“Mika…”Energized, Yuichiro brought their lips closer, but Mikaela blocked them with his fingers.“Allow me to try.”Smitten by the request, Yuichiro sat limp like clay ready to be molded by his hands. His face fitted perfectly between Mikaela’s palms, but the moment their lips brushed, the latter drew away at once.“It’s no use!” He cackled, his hands falling to Yuichiro’s chest, “I cannot adjust to this!”“You think I’m just a laugh riot, huh!? Then take this!”Enlivened by Mikaela’s spirit, Yuichiro took hold of him and peppered kisses along his neck and jawline, savoring every laugh the former rewarded him. He soon rose to his cheek, detoured with a quick nibble on his ear, then finished with a peck on the lips.“How was that?” “Entertaining. Will that be all?”Eyeing the small spasms in his throat, Yuichiro answered with an emphatic “No.”He’d proven to be an adequate distraction, but that wasn’t enough.“If your throat hurts… drink my blood.”“It is preferred I fast until my alpha arrives.”“Who cares!?” Yuichiro demanded, his shoulder cape already thrown across the floor. “I don’t want you in pain!”“I see…”When Mikaela rested his hands upon Yuichiro's shoulders, the difference between a promised kiss and promised blood was night and day. This, he thought, was what intimacy meant to him. Had he departed from Mikaela with just a kiss, he doubted his affection would have come across so clearly.When offered a vampire’s greatest desire, his touch couldn’t have been more fervent.The moment his fangs entered his flesh, the endorphins for which he felt so homesick blessed him at last. Warmed him with nostalgia. He felt another pair of fangs, reminiscent of Ky Luc’s, enter him as well, but they evoked no fear.This time, they belonged to his family.Yuichiro held him closer, tousling his hair and giving in to the euphoric swell washing over him like the tide. He wanted nothing more but to tell Mikaela he was home, that everything would be all right so long as they were together, but the same sappiness powering those thoughts left him tongue-tied.When Mikaela pulled away, his face lost all traces of discomfort. He analyzed something Yuichiro couldn’t place, but before he could ask what took place in his mind, Mikaela bit the side of his lip and reunited their lips.The blood in his mouth possessed him, and he entwined his fingers in Mikaela's free hand as he lapped whatever he could off his wound. As he spread it across their tongues, he could taste nothing of his own blood. Only the paradise of Mikaela’s.Lungs empty of air, nothing in his body could stop him from deepening and prolonging their kiss as much as they pleased.He only pulled away when the succulent taste disappeared.“I liked that better…” Mikaela observed.Of course he would.He—They—were vampires.Yuichiro’s smile grew soft, and he wiped the rest of his blood off the corner of his family’s mouth.“Me too…”“Shall I return your generosity?”Yuichiro’s eyes could have cut Mikaela’s slender neck with how intensely he stared daggers into it. His mouth-watered, flooding the whimpers in his throat.“I-If—” He swallowed them— “You want to…”Mikaela nodded. “Come, drink.”He needed not a word more for him to oblige. Yuichiro’s teeth sunk into his neck, but he withdrew the moment he heard a small gasp.“W-what’s wrong!?” He demanded, pulling him back. “Are you okay!? Does it hurt because you’re—”“No. I feel… strange.”It was then Yuichiro discovered another treasured expression of Mikaela’s: bashful unease. All tension left his body, leaving in its wake a burning sensation to pull him into an embrace.“ I never… experienced this sensation from a mere bite. Is this how you felt?”Shivering with anticipation, he dove back into Mikaela’s neck, his arms wrapped around his torso.“Yeah!” He mumbled against his skin, “It’s nice isn’t it!?”“… Yes.”The manner in which Mikaela writhed and caught his breath intensified the gratification he derived from each swallow. It intoxicated him with affection, emptying his head of everything but one thought—that he was born just to drink from him. As long as he had his blood, with smoothness rivaling Guren’s finest wines, a taste horrific in the way it rendered everything else in his life so meaningless, derived from his precious family, worthy of any suffering to obtain it—When he came to, he’d discovered he’d pinned Mikaela down, his hand cradling the back of his head.But Mikaela looked the same as he felt.Lips parted, eyes glossy with greed, and dizzied with euphoria.“S-Sorry… I guess…” Yuichiro held Mikaela’s hand. “I drank too much…”In truth, he was thankful he had the power to pry himself off at all. He’d done so at the third attempt of promising his ravenous brain more blood in the future.He hadn’t a clue how long he’d been drinking from him, nor would he question how Mikaela was even conscious.“It’d be only fair if… you got to drink more of mine…”Mikaela rose from the sheets, giving all his body weight to Yuichiro until it was he who sprawled across the bed.“All right…” He, too, mumbled against his skin.With his sire’s teeth fastened into his neck, Yuichiro let his eyelids fall and anchored himself in the moment. He indulged in the scent, the powerful awareness of his own heartbeat, the unbridled joy of hearing Mikaela’s small sighs of reprieve, and embraced him until their game of back-and-forth saw his time to consume.He’d then entwine their limbs, drink, apologize, and offer his neck in exchange.Whatever blood spilled down their chins was cleaned with the other’s mouth, resulting in countless interludes of kisses.So long as the desire to close any distance between them existed, he refused to let their game end.“… What time is it?” Yuichiro grumbled at last, having lost track of it for hours.What meager moonlight flooding through the curtains had vanished—a tell that it changed its position in the sky. They were well into a morning that had yet to see the sun. Stomach full of Mikaela’s blood and submerged in an afterglow that cradled him in the clouds, Yuichiro rested atop his donor once more.“I don’t know…”A stock phrase, Yuichiro was certain, for it sounded too much like himself.“It’s getting late… I guess I should leave you alone now,” was what he said, but his sole action consisted of moving his hand from the back of Mikaela’s head to his chest.“I suppose…”Better at self-control than he, Mikaela abandoned the comfort of Yuichiro’s body for the mattress, and the latter took to staring at the ceiling where he lay.Not a moment passed, however, before his fingers inched toward Mikaela’s, for the ache to touch still lingered.“… How’re you feeling?”“Better.”“Really!? That’s great!” He cried, his bite marks stirred and tingled incessantly when he threw his head in Mikaela’s direction.His outburst earned a brief look of surprise, but the tender smile that followed evoked him to offer his blood all over again.“How often you worry for me, as though my life were your own.”“Oh yeah?” Yuichiro half-scoffed, half-slurred. He reclaimed his spot above him. “Then why do you save me? Is my life ‘your own?’”Mikaela made no answer. Instead, he offered another reply that sent Yuichiro’s pulse up his throat.“… If not for my heat, I would ask you to stay.”“Don’t worry about that. I’ll always wait for you.”“You assure that with such certainty…”“You bet…”Mikaela’s lips, rosy with both their blood, carried a magnetic appeal. Though a spasm of want wracked Yuichiro’s entire frame, to answer the invitation sparkling in Mikaela’s eyes would be to disrespect his word. Yuichiro rolled himself so hard in the other direction he stumbled off the mattress. Such was the power he needed to defy himself.“Yu?”
“I’m fine!”
Confronting his shoulder cape on the floor made wonderful use of his collapse. Had Mikaela’s alpha or servant encountered it instead…He shuddered at the thought.Lethargy barred him from dressing, so he bundled it in his arms.“Farewell,” Mikaela said softly, making a meager effort to restore order to his bed.Yuichiro nodded, rubbing his arm as a surrogate for Mikaela’s. “See you later.”He slipped out of the smallest crack of the door he could make, thankful their only witness had been Arcanu, when he found himself face-to-face with Ferid Bathory.Supplementing him was his signature tea set and his signature detestable smirk.“Here we are again, huh…?” Yuichiro forced through a toothy grin.Better here, he consoled himself, than on Mikaela’s bed.Ferid’s smug, probing eye contact deepened. “The alpha has been chosen. As is the ritual, I’m delivering a sample of their blood to aid my master’s familiarity. How is he, by the way?”“How should I know? I… We…”Lacking the proper headspace to lie on the spot, Yuichiro opted for abandoning his nuisance. An arm intercepted him before he completed his first step, however.“My, those bite marks are taking quite a long time to heal, are they not? They look rather deep, too, suggesting there were multiple entries. Ha! I wonder if my master has the same—”
“Mind your own business!”
As he stormed down the hall, his cape a bundle pressed against his neck, the concept of Ferid finding Mikaela far from isolated, far from starvation, breathed new life into his smile.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

“Go on, Yuichiro dear! Care to tell him your version of the event?”“Uh…”In the center of Ferid’s study, he stood like a man on trial. Upon his first step from his bedroom, beneath his shoe lay a summons from ‘the designated aide of Illustrious.’ He requested his company not in Mikaela’s chamber but to one of his own, where he was to meet a vampire ‘who’d benefit from his presence.’ Its grandeur fit someone who never wore the same ribbon around his neck twice—or in his hair once.The aforementioned vampire (or executor should he not choose his words carefully) was a man named Ambrus Shishirui. He was an inhabitant of the Illustrious estate and designated alpha of Mikaela Illustrious. “You will not make a fool out of me, Ferid Bathory!” He barked, jabbing his thumb at Yuichiro as if to say, ‘your fool is over there!’“Urd Gaeles was right about your incomparable negligence!”Ferid held his chin, giving vent to a sigh that, knowing him, was borne from pride rather than regret. What joy he took in being flimsy. “I assure you, this isn’t my fault. The rite between my master and his designated alpha has continued for centuries. It’s not I who—”“Then you deserve even  greater  reproach for lack of supervision! What am I supposed to learn from this… this vampire commoner!?”“That ‘vampire commoner’ stole your mate’s time.”Here Yuichiro received another hawkish stare from Ambrus. The mirror-like gleam upon his irises reflected him too well, as though his scrutinizing eyes served as a magnifying glass.After a defeated scratch of his temple, Ferid broke in, “As I said, our guest will happily explain what transpired the other night. Then you will see my innocence.” He waved his manicured fingers in Yuichiro’s direction. “You have the floor, my dear.”Not until Ambrus gave Ferid one last chance to explain he summoned Yuichiro as a joke did he give him his full recognition. “Well, y’see…” Yuichiro had already begun his signature nervous tic of rubbing the back of his head. “I wanted to check on Mika. His throat hurt and—”“Your ‘Mika’ has nothing to do with this!” His thundering step forward crescendoed with his booming interruption. A vein bulged in his forehead. “I refuse to endure a drawn-out tale with such superfluous details! However you communicate with this creature—” At this, he gestured at Ferid— “will not be tolerated by the likes of me!”“Oh, for the love of—‘Mika!’  Mikaela!”  Yuichiro cried, storming to his adversary. “That’s his  name!” Ambrus yanked Yuichiro forward by a fistful of his lapel. “You dare affront the prince’s entire existence with such an egregious bastardization of his title!? What hatred…  what contempt you carry in your heart!” “Are you crazy!? Why would I give him my blood if I hated him!?”“Because…!”At his sentence’s death, his ire dwindled into a sneer, a set jaw, a tightness in his eyes. His brows pinched as he summoned all his mental faculties for whatever it was he calculated.On the crest of his understanding, he slackened his grip on Yuichiro. “What’s with you—”Without warning, Ambrus drove his nose into the junction of his neck and shoulder. The tip of his chin smothered Yuichiro’s collar against the sensitive flesh of his bite mark, which filled the room with a concerted yelp. 
“H-Hey! Get off me—!”
“Your scent…!” Yuichiro’s expression went blank.“Wha…?”“That’s correct!” Ferid jested, his arms stretched wide in a lofty gesture of openness. “Not only has the prince made himself a new thrall, but he’s also taken such a liking to him—“
“I’ll kill him!”
The door flung open, and Mikaela ‘Octavus Sator’  Illustrious entered the study. Despite walking in on a vampire who bestowed a death threat upon his progeny, Mikaela’s expression was so utterly barren of interest that Yuichiro suspected their night had been a dream. That was, if his wellness hadn’t dazzled every soul in the room.Guren, too, bore a particular radiance when he returned from ‘sneaking away’ to Shinya’s, but that paled in comparison to the vampire before him. Rosiness remained on his cheeks, but now it settled against the backdrop of a glow powered by rest and relaxation. The crimson in his eyes shone brighter, dare he say sparkled, and his posture exuded elegance.
‘Oh no…’
Annoyed as Yuichiro was, he didn’t want Ambrus to leave the study as ash flying out of Ferid’s window. “Mika…! I…! I’m okay! It’s not what you think—”Mikaela frowned, but to his surprise, the indistinct glare he thought spelled death for Ambrus pointed at himself.“Hey! Wait a second! Something’s not right here!”Just because he wanted the pitiful alpha to live didn’t mean he’d let that slide. “What did I do—!?”“You are close to angering me, Yu. For what purpose do you idle in my servant’s chamber? Do not delay our meal any further.”“Woah! Time out! Be mad at  him  for threatening me!”On the other hand, after the battle with Ky Luc, did Mikaela even care who menaced him anymore? It’s not like he wouldn’t kill them.Ambrus hurried to Mikaela’s side the minute his enchantment had passed.“Your Royal highness! Please grant me your ears… For fifty years, I had awaited the honor of satiating your thirst. Surely you understand the soul-crushing misery of losing that chance!”Synonyms, jargon, and idioms of the same general points comprised the rest of his plea, so long as desperation fueled the fire of his thoughts. And Mikaela permitted it without reaction. Whatever subtle irritation remained in his expression was merely leftovers from staring at Yuichiro. When he, at last, bumbled into silence, Mikaela turned to his smug servant in the shadows.“Why does this alpha remain in your presence? I have no use for him.”Second-hand embarrassment gutted Yuichiro’s stomach. The least Mikaela could do was stare at him. “I thought it was just for him to hear a testimony from Yuichiro Ariadust,” Ferid explained, bowing. At this, hope brightened Ambrus’s face, denoting a man who discovered an incredible ally.“… Seeing as you prioritized your intimate little progeny over your heat.”As expected of Mikaela, his immunity to ridicule was unparalleled. Ambrus shoved Yuichiro to the side and into one of Ferid’s bookshelves. “What you say is impossible! Blood alone cannot gratify his thirst!” Disheartenment dragged him across the floor by the knees to Mikaela. He filled his quaking fists with Mikaela’s cloak.“My heart, my bone, you must consume it all!”Not once did Mikaela meet his eyes, despite this upheaval. His half-lidded gaze rested on the carpet but focused on nothing, and hints of sleepiness lived in its indifference. For once, he bore a greater likeness to the other vampires in the morning. “It’s likely your fangs have not yet disappeared! I beg you to make sure!”To witness Mikaela’s characteristic detachment left any hopes of conversation destroyed. Even Ferid, who once pretended to have an iota of interest in clearing his name, didn’t entreat Mikaela to humor his guest. Only Arcanu was stirred by Ambrus’s incessant pleading. Having popped out of his hood, its little eye focused on the hands latched on its master’s cloak until they wilted against Ferid’s luxurious rug. At last Mikaela said, “Ferid Bathory.” “Yes?” “When we arrive at the dining hall, prepare the blood of a young girl.”Mikaela pivoted toward the door before he finished his sentence, while Ferid stepped over Ambrus to follow him out. “As you wish, my master.”“Come along, Yu.” Yuichiro stepped toward the exit as well, but he couldn’t help but spare a glimpse at the sorry, gloomy thing on the floor. “C’mon, Mika!” He said to the empty doorway, “That was mean!”Not that his sire ever demonstrated any awareness of being impolite. “No use…” Ambrus whispered to the rug, his head bent further than one in mourning. “I am useless…”Yuichiro rolled his eyes at the mistake he was about to make and knelt by his side.  “Hey… You okay?”No answer. “It’s not that bad!” He tried again. “Now you can continue living!”“I have lived a millennium’s worth of days… what miracle is another?”Yuichiro grimaced. A well-founded counter for a bloodsucker as old as he. But console he must.“Still—”“What you say does not matter. My chance of salvation is gone…”This Yuichiro had grounds to correct—given his meeting with Ky Luc and the fact there existed enough of Mikaela’s kind to earn a lengthy excerpt in  A Study of Bloodsucking Creatures .“That can’t be right. I know other omegas out there. Maybe they can drink you!”Ambrus’s eyes widened, but he did not return his gaze. “Other… omegas?”“Sure! Another one tried to kill me just last month—”
“You cruel beast! You mock me further by wishing me a slow and painful death!?”
“What!? No!” Yuichiro held up his hands as a white flag. “I—”“There are  none  like Illustrious! Nobody offers his reprieve!”“You mean he’s the only one that doesn’t hurt?”Twisting Ambrus’s features was the revulsion of somebody stealing an exquisite treasure, then insulting its owner further by using it to prop an unsteady table. “If you still live, you  never  understood the privilege of being his alpha!”“I would if you tell me—!”
“Die!” 
Yuichiro didn’t have time to evade. He felt…  something  slide across his neck, but nothing close to the strain of decapitation. Ambrus had made a claw with his curved hand and elongated nails. Blood dripped from every crevice between his fingers. It was a methodical slice: clean-cut so that the study may be free of blemishes. Even so, his head prevailed. ‘I apologize for not dying,’ strayed too far from his genuine feelings, so he settled for the kindest gesture a vampire could offer.  “I…” He took a clumsy step backward. “Wanna grab some blood with us? They’re serving breakfast—”
“Get out!”
“Right!”   After running into the hall, Yuichiro traced his fingers along his neck. 
‘Weird… it should have at least come off.’
He’d had decent recovery capabilities prior, but not enough to keep his limbs intact. Something told him, despite the precision of the slice, that he should have bled more.He raised his palm and dragged his thumbnail so deeply across his skin it bled. But this, too, brought no pain. It healed as quick as his wounds did before he drank Mikaela’s blood—back when his humanity was at its lowest.  
‘Huh… maybe I have gotten stronger.’
Mikaela and Ferid weren’t too far off in terms of vampire strides, so he caught up to them with ease. “That was uncalled for. You didn’t have to ignore Ambrus!”Mikaela said nothing at first. While waiting, Yuichiro studied his profile, examined its inhuman calm. To stroll with Ferid produced the same skin-crawling effect as before. Still, his captivation with Mikaela took the edge off. Once he replied, he answered with a mere, “There was nothing to discuss.”So much for turning over a new leaf. He ignored Ferid’s snickering behind his back and continued their journey to the dining hall without a word. Upon arrival, it was clear the vampire residents weren’t expecting the prince so soon, and they were far from prepared to finish their elongated meal. The maids found relief. Akane wasn’t in their flock, however, for their dead-of-night conversation ruined her sleeping schedule.
‘Tell me anything new between you and Prince Illustrious! I don’t care what time it is or what I’m doing! Be a friend and pull me to the side!’
He made good on his promise.Scrambling to their feet, they greeted their sovereign with rushed bows and curtsies alike. “Good morning, Prince Mikaela  ‘Octavus Sator’  Illustrious!”Their inflection tapered off, mostly because of vampires who eyeballed the third soul walking with the prince and his aide. “You are excused,” Mikaela said, giving them scant regard as usual. Yuichiro felt as though they had put him on display in a parade along the further left aisle. Some vampires whispered their confusion. Others did their best to reserve formalities but kept a laser-pointer focus on how  close  Yuichiro had gotten. The vampire who threatened to throw him out into the sun, and the other who insisted he deserved death for speaking to Mikaela with such boldness, dropped their jaws with a wet smack. Yuichiro’s ears turned red, and his gaze fled to the back of Mikaela’s head. “Get accustomed to their stares if you plan to be with my master,” Ferid whispered as they ascended the stairs to the monarchs’ dining space. “Yeah yeah…”While Ferid pulled out the exquisite chair for Mikaela, Yuichiro seated himself. “A small serving,” Mikaela ordered into Ferid’s ear. Why the latter enjoyed leaning over him as if he had secrets to disclose, Yuichiro didn’t know. “Yes.” Ferid laid out a crimson cloth before Mikaela, no doubt replacing his flute glass with a teacup.“And you, Yuichiro dear?” He asked without looking at him. Yuichiro cleared his throat. “I don’t need any…”His appetite had yet to recover from last night, and the nature of Ferid’s “of course” denoted he already knew that. Having given his master a final bow, he took off to fetch his drink. With that, they were alone again. Though the partition of iron rose over Mikaela’s features once more, the atmosphere was nothing if not comfortable. Yuichiro never considered himself shy. Far from it. Humble awe birthed his hesitation, one that often left him staring instead of speaking. If anything, he was thrilled for conversation, to unearth more of the vampire before him. Mikaela progressed in his eyes from an enemy to a mystery, to family, to someone more significant than even that.“S-So! We—”Before he completed his thought, Mikaela was there to verify their night alone, that the laughs they shared were not a dream. A soft, understated laugh graced his ears again.“Yes, that is the face I like.” Such an affirmation deepened Yuichiro’s silly grin. “My smile?” He chuckled, pointing at himself.Mikaela looked pleased, and he rested his fist lightly on his cheek. “In truth, my appetite is scarce. I merely wished to speak with you alone.” His legs were crossed beneath the table, which brushed against Yuichiro’s own on occasion. The latter mimicked his movements.“I’m glad…” An appreciative sigh left Mikaela’s lips. “You are a bewildering vampire. I enjoyed our time last night. I hope we can do it again.”Yuichiro’s entire face lit up.“I’d like that! Though…” He couldn’t get Ambrus’s crestfallen expression out of his head.  “I feel bad for the other alpha…”Just then, Ferid returned with his master’s drink, a warmed teacup full of blood. Next to the kettle where humans placed sugar was another sample congealed in cubes, which he stirred into his meal.“Your sire’s,” He noted as they plopped into the cup.Getting next to none of Mikaela’s attention didn’t offend Yuichiro, for a meal rested before him. To behold his irises following the spoon’s movements was endearing.Even as a Latrodectus, he couldn’t stay too full for too long. Either that or fullness was not a justification for rejecting blood altogether. “He really wanted you to drink him,” Yuichiro emphasized again, hoping he could get a word of consolation, at the very least, to rid himself of guilt.Mikaela consumed his entire cup, let Ferid wipe away any excess blood on his chin (something he did whether his mouth was stained). He didn’t answer until his servant stood halfway down the stairs.“That is no trouble of ours. I was full.”“Because of me,” Yuichiro retorted, “That’s my point. He could’ve died if I hadn’t given you my blood.”“Given me your blood… was that not what you wanted?”Yuichiro pouted his lips. “Well… yeah…”When he put it that way, he didn’t have a leg to stand on for any Ambrus advocacy. Mikaela gifting him another smile made his embarrassment worth it. Not only that, but he rested his arms against the table, leaned forward. To have his undivided attention in such an engaged fashion overwhelmed him. “I am grateful for your visit. Without you, my pain would have endured.”Admiration swelled in Yuichiro’s chest. His ‘new leaf’ existed indeed, and it was entirely his to enjoy.“Still, it’s strange, isn’t it? Aren’t you supposed to have a full vampire?”To drink a vampire not dry but  hollow  irked his phobia most when he was a human.“Why was my blood good enough?”His smile not leaving his lips, Mikaela shook his head. “I cannot say. You grow ever more mysterious.” Such a word stirred his curiosity, and Yuichiro leaned even closer to Mikaela, to the extent where his backside lifted off the seat. “What do you mean?” He asked, lowering his voice.“I have been observing you lately. Your face changes. No… that is not correct. Rather, the surrounding area will fluctuate.” 
‘So that’s why he was staring at me…’ 
“How do I look now?” At this time, the two stood from their chairs and rested their elbows on the table. Yuichiro didn’t know when Mikaela’s right hand found his, but they wove their fingers in unison. “Normal,” Mikaela answered.Yuichiro took his bottom lip into his mouth, wet it to prepare for the only kiss Mikaela liked. But a question to which he fancied an answer entered his head.  “… Do you remember when we first met?”“Yes, you were the human bleeding on the foyer.” Dumbfounded, Yuichiro collapsed into his seat. “Hold it!” He cried, “You’re missing a step! You found me! In your room! Remember!?”“No.” As Mikaela returned to his chair, the extent to which humans meant so little never ceased to amaze Yuichiro. Not because he thought otherwise, but because of how seldom he saw his family as a ‘bloodsucker.’ Which begged the question—“Lemme get this straight! You changed some random human you asked your servant to get rid of!? How come!?”The sentence flew from his lips with haste. Halfway through asking, he readied himself for yet another ‘blood tasting good’ justification.  But then—“I thought I turned you because I liked your blood. But now, I am not so sure.”Yuichiro’s eyes widened, sparkled with triumph. “So, why  did  you turn me!?” He asked, drumming his fingers on the table. Mikaela fell silent. “No. I still cannot say. However…”At that moment, Yuichiro was prepared to wait for ages for his conviction.“Turning you felt… inevitable. The smell and taste of your blood was never unfamiliar—”“It’s not!” Yuichiro cried before he considered the risk of ruining their progress. Excitement took the place of forethought, and he was out of his chair once more to stride right next to Mikaela. “This is what I’m saying, Mika!” He slammed his hands on the table. “About you and me! You  knew  me! From a long time ago—”“Yu, please. No more of that.” Having erased the smile off of his face, Yuichiro ceased looming over him and knelt at the table in shame. To his relief, however, he gained it back with a guilty glance upward. “I am Mikaela Illustrious,” Mikaela said, stroking Yuichiro’s hair. “That is who I have always been.”“That’s not true!” He jumped to his feet and beckoned his family out of his chair as well, seizing his upper arms.A fire of readiness kindling in his chest, he declared, “Until you remember me… until you recall everything the queen did to you, you’re not here by choice! If you still want to be an Illustrious after I save you, then fine! But I can’t let it continue like this!”Mikaela gazed into his eyes for a while, searching for something he couldn’t figure out until all tension deflated with his sigh.“There is no helping your concern. I realize that now.” Yuichiro grinned. “You got it—!”“But I am quite all right.”The statement took him aback, loosening his grip enough for Mikaela to slip out of his grasp.“You are attached to this notion I need rescuing,” He continued, adjusting his sleeve. “But so long as you stay by my side, my contentment is secure.”“I wish… I could feel the same way,” Yuichiro said softly.He squeezed Mikaela’s hands, lifted them with the gentleness of holding a baby bird.“Another perplexing display…”“Hm?”Mikaela shifted his attention to their intertwined fingers, and Yuichiro followed suit.“I am your sire. My strength far surpasses yours, and yet you handle me with such care. Your touch will not harm me. I am safe.”The moment Yuichiro held his chin, his smile faded. Imbued with his fondness, their eyes closed in unison as they joined their lips. ‘But you’re not…’  thought Yuichiro, deepening their kiss and puncturing his tongue with his fang. Affection bound their mouths before he could give Mikaela what made this act worthwhile.His hand fell to wrap an arm around his waist, high on the gratification of erasing any vampire’s taste with his own.
‘Not with the queen, nor Ferid, nor…’
“Guren…” He finished between their lips. Mikaela pulled back first. “Guren?”“Mika, will you send a summons to the Illustrious estate? I need to see a marquis who lives really far from here. His name’s Guren Ariadust.” As much as he hated to admit it, if he and Ferid were tied up in the same plan, then he, too, had the potential to put Mikaela in harm’s way. He needed to meet up with him. “This Guren… is he a vampire from a different faction?”Yuichiro smiled.Such an assumption from Mikaela made sense, as did the disregard for his last name.“A human.” “I see… I shall send it this afternoon.”“Thanks! I would’ve troubled Ferid instead, but he’s determined to keep me out of everything! It’s like, he wants to help me, but he doesn’t want to lift a finger to actually do it!”Mikaela didn’t answer, and to make matters worse, his eyes were downcast. Careful not to startle him with any over-the-top doting, Yuichiro asked with commendable restraint, “Mika? What’s wrong?”“Your request confuses me.”Yuichiro’s heart jumped.Perhaps he  did  notice his last name. Did he fear he planned to leave him after expressing his desire to be together? Did he think he wasn’t enough? What if—“We have supplied the estate with blood of all genders and ages. Would no other human appease your appetite?” “…”No. Mikaela was fine.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Yuichiro took a sharp inhale to no benefit of his lungs and stood atop the left-wing of the grand foyer. He studied his reflection nonstop. While a vast improvement from when he first turned, he remained a monster through the lens of uncertainty. His steps were heavy; his posture was supernaturally straight. He fancied he’d fit in with Mikaela’s progenitor crowd and arouse the same eeriness.  Not since August had he been this self-conscious as a vampire. So skittish were his nerves that the hand pressed against his back gave him a start. “Come,” Ferid whispered in his ear. His veil brushed against Yuichiro’s shoulder. “Give your guest a welcome an Illustrious should.”At this, Yuichiro smoothed down his clothing and grew unusually quiet. “Is something wrong?” “No. I’m fine,” he insisted, massaging the tip of his ear.“Do you hear them?”Of course he did. The approaching trot of a horse, the rumble of a carriage, left no room for interpretation. On the long trail to the Illustrious Estate, they were minutes away. Sharpening his focus brought the voices of his caretaker and coachman, but he stopped himself from parsing any words. He could hear the pressure in his large arteries intensify.   When he’d run out of time, and the steps to the front gates grew closer, he finished his dreadful voyage to the end of the stairs. “So adorable…” Ferid laughed behind his back. Dry-washing his hands, Yuichiro recited the mantra Akane gifted him the morning prior. “It’ll be fine. No one’s scared of me here,” He mumbled.She bantered with him all the time, and her teeth didn’t chatter in his presence. Cold sweat never gathered on her brow. Nor would this meeting be a recreation of his and Mikaela’s. October 4th will not be his final day as a member of the Ariadust family. He gripped the door handle—upon which he ignored the perfect sparkle of his reflection—and threw it open. “W-Welcome—!”
Bark!
A tiny creature of foreign blood (neither human nor vampire) made itself a projectile and fastened its claws to his chest. Smelly saliva smeared his nose, chin, and forehead. 
“Gross! Yuck! Get off!”
When he snatched its torso of fluff away, however, his mouth fell open at the familiar face. 
“Lady Ariadust!?”
She gave an affirming yelp and paddled her little paws, as though she could swim through the air to the apple of his cheek. Brows lowered, Yuichiro inspected Lady’s wagging tongue and tail. “Since when do  you  like me…?”“Maybe you’re more pleasant as a blood-sucking demon.” “Hey! What’s that supposed to…”What he could merely describe as panic-stricken relief stole his voice. His moment of truth belied the pain and passion of coming back home. Standing at the threshold between the world of the living and dead, tired and sour and pushing his hair back, was Marquis Guren Ariadust. The man he thought he’d never see again.“It’s been a while, Yu.” To keep his trembling mouth still, Yuichiro bit his lip. “Hm? What’s with that face?” His family yawned. A timid step forward and his body froze. The hand reaching out to his caretaker returned to his side as a fist. “I didn’t think…” He forced out when he found the words at last, “I’d…”“I prepared one of the drawing rooms for your visit. Please, come this way.” Yuichiro spun around at once. He’d forgotten Ferid’s existence and stood between him and his family with haste. Despite this, Lady Ariadust wriggled out of his arms, ran to Ferid, and scratched up the side of his boots until he carried her. “Aren’t you a splendid pooch!” He cried, accepting her into an embrace.“…”Yuichiro lowered his eyes at Guren, who shrugged, “She was never a fan of people.” “Yeah, that’s true…”  “Well, hurry up,” His caretaker said after a pause, giving him a brief pat on the head en route to Ferid. “I had stupid meetings all night and didn’t nap on the way here.”It never ceased to astonish him how much warmth Guren imparted in the vaguest of gestures. His smile lived and died behind the latter’s back.Despite their partnership, not once did the Bathory-Ariadust ‘alliance’ meet eyes, nor did the tension Yuichiro expected come to pass.But this, he knew, was not without Guren’s effort.The drawing-room in which Ferid led them had the cozy ambiance of their parlor back home, as though he designed it through testimony. Save for the inescapable artworks of the queen, the Skuldian-style furniture suited Guren’s tastes.While Lady Ariadust found refuge never before seen in Yuichiro’s lap, Guren had granted him a handful of letters wrapped in a bow. On each were his family’s names. Given his caretaker’s (how refreshing it was for Yuichiro to think those words) snoring, they must have been a stalling tactic, one he appreciated sincerely nonetheless. Mitsuba’s began unsurprisingly, noting how well she called his demise through his mania for conflict. The next paragraph, however, turned merciful:  ‘Stupid Yu, while I understand your hardships, you must see how irritating it is that you never bothered to write. Redeem yourself. Please send me some of the finest pastries from the estate. By the way, what does human blood taste like?’ He’d have to ask Mikaela. Kimizuki’s, in a similar vein, offered empathy for his disappearance.  ‘You would’ve drunk from us if you came straight home, right? So stay there and don’t come back. Until you’ve controlled yourself.’  The last addition’s penmanship differed, as though he scribbled it in right before he sealed the envelope.Yuichiro smiled. On Yoichi’s, countless statements of how glad he was that he was alive filled the page, that it was the best news he had received from Guren in all his days. With his keen eyes, he caught old tear stains. His was the only one free of requests. Nevertheless, Narumi was quick to continue the pattern, for a request was all he sent. In the early 1800s, an artist from the Endo family teamed up with a manufacturer to create playing cards. Almost impossible to find, the antiques had a king and queen styled after Krul, while Mikaela’s likeness decorated as the Jack and Ace. Numbers two-ten were the remaining progenitors. He was to locate and mail them. Regret or moroseness didn’t live in any of the letters. Nothing felt like a eulogy, and Yuichiro cherished every moment.Each of them had vowed, in their own way, that home would be the same as he left it. Heart swelled with pleasure, he was ready for today’s objective.“Hey.”A long, deep snore.“Guren.”Courtesy of Narumi’s letter, Yuichiro’s new idea had him rummage through the bric-à-brac at the sofa’s feet. Behind his heel stood a chest, housing an album of photos long past, a thimble, thread, and the object he hoped to find. While not the antique cards his family desired, a messy duplicate did the job fine for him. He threw it on Guren’s lap.“Huh…?” His caretaker groaned, roused from slumber. “Oh…” He raised the deck to the light for inspection. Mini crystals must’ve covered the Illustrious crest on the back, for it gleamed like stars. “Deal those!” Yuichiro demanded, “We’re gonna fight!”Guren’s brain, it seemed, was still catching up to his consciousness, so he elaborated, “We’re playing Fool! Best two out of three rounds! 36 card deck ranging from king to 7! If I win, answer my question. No lies, no holding back!”“… And if I win?” Guren asked, though he’d already begun removing cards eight through ten. He shuffled the rest. “Then you go home.”Guren threw him a sharp glance before dealing. “Awfully generous, letting me go first.”“Yeah, the losers of this game usually do.”“And the cheaters.”Yuichiro sneered. “Play fair! Besides, I can’t duel you anymore. I’m too powerful!”He flinched at his own words, and a flush came up his cheeks. Instinct berated him. His stomach dropped. Guren drinking in his image head to toe made him brace for the countless hurtful remarks his fear compiled in his brain. But he returned to the cards without a word. “Is that right…?” He asked slowly, wedging their trump card, the seven of spades, between the remainder of the dark.  He wanted to thank him. For the sake of not drawing attention, he didn’t. Good fortune had come from Guren’s deal. In Yuichiro’s hand was an ace and king of spades, an ace of diamonds, an ace of clubs, a jack of hearts, and nine diamonds. Half of him suspected his ‘luck’ was purposeful for the sake of a hidden strategy, that joy would begin his demise. And so, face blank, and nodded at his opponent. “‘Kay. Attack.”“Six of clubs.” The knock-off deck lacked the numerical complexity of the antique, simplifying the vampire allocation by suits. Spades belonged to the queen, hearts the prince, and diamonds Ferid Bathory. The clubs had the owner of bestowing Crowley Eusford, a somewhat surreal image to place onto the glass table. Unlike the vampire on the card, his attack proved an easy one to defeat. “Ace of clubs.” Without a word, the two discarded their cards and replenished their deal. The victory left Yuichiro giddy though, so he hid his expression behind his hand. ‘Well, if he’s letting me have it so easy… might as well play anything I want!’   “Eight of hearts!” He offered, slapping the card onto the table. Guren’s stoicism remained just as strong.  “King of hearts.” 
“Hey!”

Even the card’s painting looked happier than the suit he played, despite the prince’s smiles appearing incorrect. Mikaela’s was more subtle than that.
A smile of Guren’s own blossomed on his lips, one he knew well as his son. He’d always use it after he poked fun at him. “Six of hearts,” He announced softly. Yuichiro grinned. “Jack of hearts!” To complete the battle with a Mikaela card sweetened his victory. “That’s it! Third round’s up!”“Would you look at that,” Guren said, though his eyes rested on his cuticles. “I lost.”“Ha! You sure did—!”“Yu.”“Hm?”Guren stared at him a little, then shook his head with a smile. “If I didn’t want to talk, I would have stayed at home.” Yuichiro blinked. “O-Oh. Right—”“That, and I’d rather not write something Ferid would read.”  His low voice told Yuichiro everything he needed, and he matched it, leaned in closer. Lady Ariadust snuggled into his thighs.“He can hear you in here. I’m sure of it.” And there was no doubt he was paying attention.Guren selected a card from the unused deck. Then he slipped a pen from his pocket.“Then talk about something else,” He offered, pushing them forward. Yuichiro gave vent to a sigh. “You’re right. There’s no helping it, is there? Might as well keep playing.” However, upon his card, he wrote the question on his mind since his encounter with Norito:  ‘When you said I might find someone who needs me, did you mean Mika?’ “A waste of time. You’d be better off with small talk,” Guren laughed. He shuffled the uncut part of a deck from which neither man drew.  ‘Yes. He is why I sent you here.’  Small talk. He was right. The shorter their sentences, the more realistic their speed of drawing cards. Naming them.Yuichiro swallowed a knot in his throat.“So I can learn about what? Your dog? Seven of clubs!”  ‘How do you know about Mika?’ At this, Lady Ariadust pointed one eye at Yuichiro, then let out a long exhale through the nose.  ‘Ferid told me.’  “Haven’t you heard it’s ideal to do lesser cards? Eight of clubs.”  ‘How did you meet?’  “Humph, I wanna win faster! Nine of diamonds!” ‘Thirteen years ago. Wanted me to take in a boy. You.’  “Ten of diamonds.” “How do you keep winning!? You’re cheating after all!”  ‘Is that how you found me?’ “Ha! You haven’t changed a bit. Every defeat is unfair in your eyes.”  ‘Yes. He led me to you.’ At this card, Yuichiro grew paler. The scent of Guren’s blood strengthened. His mouth watered. He’d always wondered what brought his childhood savior the day his mother plunged him in flames. Not only did his ancestor dance in the palm of Mikaela’s ‘servant,’ but his very caretaker. He could manage a single word onto his card as he sat still as death.  ‘Why?’  “Okay, I’ll try it your way.” A slant lived in his voice. Thankfully, it helped him play the part. “Six of hearts.” The next card took longer than the others, and he couldn’t stop staring at it. When he slipped it over, it felt heavier than lead:
‘A god brought him into this world. It is time to reunite them.’
“Jack of hearts,” Guren called.  Yuichiro’s eyes widened. His vampiric memory fixated on Ferid’s confession, what forced him into their entire affair:
‘I upset a god.’
“Well?” Guren asked, “Draw a card. Or are you too scared?” At this point, they had thrown away more rules than before. Their trump card was all that mattered for their ruse.  ‘Do you believe him?’  “Who’d be scared of your playing!? Ace of spades!” Yuichiro’s laughter seemed forced even in his ears, and Guren’s sounded equally stiff. ‘Iffy.’  “Ace of hearts. It’s yours.” “’Course it is!” The sickness in his stomach festered further. Tears of frustration stung his ducts.  ‘Then why give me away?’ “You know, if I were playing against Shinya, I would’ve lost by now.”  ‘He threatened me.’ His answer brought as much grief as it did relief. Yuichiro’s entire posture deflated.To learn Guren didn’t abandon him on a whim… ‘How?’  “Humph. I like to take my time with my opponents!”Another drawn-out card, this one quickening the blood in his veins. 
‘He told me about the Ichinose clan. Made a cult before. Almost killed the other clans. He would do it again and destroy the Ariadust-Hiragi bond.’
Yuichiro grimaced when he slid his next card over.  ‘With Mikaela’s blood?’ ‘You heard about that?’  “… Stopped blathering? Perhaps you’re taking the game more seriously now?” Guren scoffed.But what silenced Yuichiro was consultation. They may have tied him up in Ferid’s plan, did his bidding, but he wasn’t a collaborator like Shinoa. Yuichiro drew in a worthless breath and said, “Phew.” Guren’s puzzled expression earned him a smile. “I was worried you were going to use Mika, too! What a relief!”“Yu—!”With a raised hand, he silenced his caretaker. “It’s okay. Ferid already knows how I feel. But now that you’re on my side, we can work together to save him—”“You have learned absolutely nothing since I dumped you here.”The answer took Yuichiro aback. “Hey! What’s that supposed to mean!?” “Let me ask you something I’m certain no one in your little friend group has.”Having cleaned up their cards, he crossed his legs, folded his hands in his lap, and asked what never entered Yuichiro’s mind. “How exactly are you going to ‘save’ that Illustrious kid? What does saving him look like to you?”Yuichiro jolted upright, so offended was he by the question. “Duh! I’m gonna get his memories back! And then when he remembers everything, we’ll—““You’ll what? Run away? Where? How many innocent lives do you plan to take to feed him and yourself? What vampire will you offer when his heat comes? What will you do when you steal him from under the queen’s nose, and she becomes an active threat instead of a watchful eye?”“I! Well…” Yuichiro took a minute to wrack his brain. He, who only considered the future inasmuch as his goals were involved and not the particularities in order to reach said goal, was as stuck as his nine-year-old self. He wanted to make a curry dish for Guren’s birthday but paid no mind to the steps to create it. They’d had this discussion before in a messy, burnt-smelling kitchen, and he despised the parallel. “The best place Illustrious can be is also where he’s trapped. That’s by  design,  Yu. He’s not human. And neither are you—”“But if Ferid’s trying to revive Mika—”“No!” Guren slammed his fist on his knee but reigned in his composure at once. “Don’t think for a second that Ferid or Shinoa are on your side.”His eyes drifted to the Joker card that lay in the discarded pile. Despite his mask, Ferid’s expression still shimmered with thirst and vindictive playfulness. “Shinoa’s changed since you were kids. She doesn’t want ‘Mika’ like you; she wants to rile up a god and watch what happens to the world around her. I don’t know what’s overtaken her, but it’s in her eyes sometimes. Whatever it is, it resembles him.” He pushed a six of diamonds across the table. “As for Ferid, he’ll help you so long as you’re interesting, but that’s not a comfort. He doesn’t need you to slip for him to turn his back on you. He’ll do it whenever he gets bored.”Yuichiro frowned at his lap and scratched behind Lady’s ear. Although he’d never considered Ferid an ally, resented him, did he grow too complacent with his presence?“You’re right,” He answered at last, “I don’t know everything, and I don’t have to! If anyone’s not trying to help Mika, then they aren’t on my side. As for the god thing… well… guess it explains how I’m here, why he’d want to tie you into everything… um—”Yuichiro let out an exasperated groan and rubbed his temple.“Whatever! My head hurts! Mika can tell me when he’s whole again. Then I’ll thank him properly. And then we’ll save you, too, Guren.”“… I delivered you here. For now, I upheld my end of the bargain.” A rosiness of bewilderment appeared on Guren’s cheeks when Yuichiro grinned, and what a comfort it was to the latter to hear his heartbeat quicken. “Are you serious!? I’m glad—!”“I mean it, Yu. If you want to deal with this, being reckless won’t get you your way. You need to  think.  It’s too easy to fall into the side of Ferid  or  the queen.”Guren couldn’t reach across the table to his son, but he didn’t have to. Not with the sincerity that colored his face even without a smile. “… But I want you to know… I wouldn’t have dropped you off here if I didn’t believe you could win. Regardless of whether Ferid started a war.”His words were a stab of hope, and an unexpected happiness consumed him. “… Guren.” Prone to changing the subject before the atmosphere grew too mushy, Guren grabbed the deck of cards and said, “Let’s play this game for real, shall we?”“You bet!” But in a completed game’s time, Yuichiro’s confidence plummeted. “Huuuuuh!? I lost! You really  were  pretending to lose!” Guren tossed the cards back and forth. “It’s obvious I’d beat you. I just needed to build up time to say something.”“Say what!? What could you possibly—” “I miss you,”  He said in Latin.
Yuichiro had him tight against his body in seconds, mindful not to squeeze him until he burst. It worried him at first, whether his still chest or lack of warmth was unsettling, if it took away Guren’s willingness to be near him. But he lingered in their embrace. Without his humanity, his caretaker still wrapped his arms around him.

“Well, I’ve indulged you long enough,” Guren said, massaging his ear. “I could say more, but that’d be empty sentimentalities, which you know I can’t stand. What else…”

Their small talk carried on until it was truly time for him to depart, and after a few powdery kisses from the coachman, he watched the back of their carriage until it disappeared into the horizon. But even when Yuichiro returned to his room, and his letters became the sole item in his vanity drawer, he was still shaken up by their conversation.

Guren, Ferid, and Shinoa made it his destiny to return to Mikaela, but their end-goals weren’t the same.

Nobody wanted what he did.

His mind raced; he paced back and forth.

When he needed fresh air in the shady garden, meager time was spent in the halls before he ran into Mikaela Illustrious.

“Hello, Yu,” He said serenely, “I was on my way to your chamber—”

His embrace of Mikaela was one without restraint. Though his family’s arms were limp at his side, a low gasp escaped his lips when Yuichiro stroked the back of his head.

“What is it?”

“… That feels nice.”

Yuichiro snuggled into his shoulder. “Can you stay in my room for a while? I’ll ask Ferid to bring your snack there.”

At last, Mikaela’s fingers slowly reached their way up Yuichiro’s shoulder blades.

“Yes.”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Yuichiro and Crowley’s blades had only just departed when a scent known to them with great intimacy rose in the air. Whether sitting in the shade of the pews, nourishing their greatest desire, or crossing swords of their own, Mikaela ‘Octavus Sator’ Illustrious’s blood ransacked the attention of every vampire. To his progeny’s delight and everyone else’s confusion, his ‘servant’ was nowhere to be found. Having waited until Mikaela’s subjects scrambled into a neat line and provided their traditional greeting, Yuichiro rushed over to steal some recognition for himself.  “Mika! Hey!” He cried, digging his heels into the floor so as to not slam into his family. Crowley followed with a leap equally vast across the fencing platform. “Your Royal Highness!” He bowed with haste. “What brings you here?”“Crowley Eusford,” He answered, though his eyes remained steady on Yuichiro.“I wish to see my progeny in battle.”Yuichiro relished in the resulting whispers from every area. “Really!?” His exclamation was one of both out of joy and embellishment, flaunting the new leaf of his sire. That the prince found enough interest in witnessing his fighting skills was yet another fruit of his hard-working affection.He took Mikaela’s hands and gave them a little squeeze. The doe-skin gloves against his palm was a marvelous sensation, but nothing compared to his bare hand. That was a privilege only given in the comforting intimacy of bedtime.“Watch me! I’ll do amazing!” He said amongst the questions, comments, and concerns buzzing about the sparring room. “I see.” No one’s surprise made him happier than the two souls sitting on the benches, whose attention had been glued to their Lord their entire training session. “The prince seems…” Horn began, crossing her arms and subjecting Mikaela’s smile to intense scrutiny. Chess finished, “Really weird. When did they get so chummy?”Crowley offered his right and left hands a shrug from across the platform, but this did little to calm their suspicions. His offer, however, brought the room to quiet anticipation. “Shall I spar with him once more, Your Royal Highness?”“You shall.”A charming scent wafted from Mikaela’s cape as he departed. He sandwiched himself between Horn and Chess, from which a squeal of terror and delight arose.“E-Excuse us, your royal highness!” They apologized in unison for even being so near. They shuffled to the respective ends of the bench, but Mikaela paid them no mind. Crowley polished his sword’s point of balance with his sleeve. “Well, prince’s orders. Ready?”“Ha!” Blade towards the heavens, Yuichiro stood en garde, readying himself for both a battle and a performance. “Better not go easy on me!” With a grin both relaxed and gruesome, Crowley revealed his fangs. “Sword—” Vines burst through its hilt and impaled his knuckles— “Drink my blood.” His blade became so deep a crimson Yuichiro could smell it.He demanded the same of his weapon. A little breath passed through his lips as power surged through him in waves.“Go!” Yuichiro chanted.Crowley and Yuichiro exploded off their feet, the swords howling against the air and meeting with a deafening clash. The blowback nearly sent him off-kilter. 
‘What the hell…!? How am I so—’
“Aren’t you powerful?” Crowley noted. His hard swing missed Yuichiro by the hairs on his head, a couple fluttering towards the floor. He tried again by a downward cleave toward his neck. “Is it because your sire’s watching?”Yuichiro evaded by a side leap and remained close enough for a counterattack. “That’s right! And I’m gonna win!”Contrasting his downward swing, Yuichiro swung high and barraged him with jabs at the chin, aiming his way through his skull. Each attack died at the weak of Crowley’s blade. “Get hit already— ow!”  Crowley kneed him away, although he didn’t send him flying like last time. His feet skid across the floor, and he jerked himself still to remain at the edge of the platform. “Yes, you seem to be improving. As expected of a thirteenth progenitor.”“A wha—”Crowley shot forward and reached for his neck. Though unsuccessful, he yanked back his wrist before Yuichiro could slice it off. Quick on his feet, their swords collided in a parry. They hammered their blades as if playing a game of who could break the other sooner. Yuichiro threw himself backward when a minuscule crack appeared in his blade. It was then he caught the quickening of the blood in his veins, so resounding in his ears. “Tired?”“No way!”He aimed at Crowley’s knees, shaving thread off his pants but little else. Another swing. This one closer.But a sweet sound pulled him from his fight like a siren’s song. He turned his head, and there Mikaela was, venting a soft, delighted laugh. Only a moment was spared to wave, but that was all Crowley needed. “Grave mistake,” Yuichiro heard him say, crushing his defenses and sweeping him from beneath his feet. Yuichiro used the opportunity, however, to flip into the air, diving straight for Crowley’s neck.“Take this!” Despite missing, he landed on his toes, free from the damage of sticking his dismount. Crowley whistled. “ …  I believe I can stop holding back.” Yuichiro, averse to playing defense of any kind, hurtled toward his opponent the moment he spoke. “You shouldn’t have from the beginning!”“If I embarrass you in front of your sire, don’t get mad, okay?”“Like that’ll happen!”The entire room shook at the collision of their swords. Many vampires covered their delicate ears. Yuichiro’s molars ached. The floor speckled with the blood of both his and Crowley scrapes and pricks, the deepest wounds either could achieve before a swift parry. 
‘I’m keeping up with him!’ 
He stole another peek at the bench, and the hung-open jaws of both Horn and Chess emboldened him to bolt quicker, swing harder. Having avoided a sheared-off cheek, he eyed Crowley’s defenseless torso and—
“I’m chopping you up this time!”
He cleaved an arc across his waist. Crowley merely stood with a smile. So amused was he by the attempt, he didn’t try to avoid it.Out of propriety and to make fun, he checked for the upper half of himself intended to meet the floor. “… Hey! When’s it gonna fall off!?”When a charitable half-minute had passed, he shrugged and said, “Can’t be helped—“Blood spurt from his midriff at the tail end of his signature phrase. A stream pooling to his ankles dirtied his boots. His torso may not have dropped, but upon a closer glance, it  did  shift.  “All right!”  Yuichiro shouted.Floaty as he was as an excited vampire, he jumped halfway into the air.Horn rushed to her leader at once. “This can’t be…! Lord Crowley!” He met her with a dismissive hand. Along with Chess. “Impressive, kid. You’re better, stronger. I guess drinking blood—”“Natural skill!” Yuichiro corrected at once, as though speaking for himself and god. He patted his chest with his fist. Mikaela, free from a servant who’d reproach him for getting his clothes near bloodstains, strode forward to congratulate his progeny. “You fought well,” He observed.Though Yuichiro’s chin didn’t hurt, it ached from how hard he grinned. “Thanks!”   “Shall we go retrieve blood from your cellar?”By this time, Crowley’s servants pulled him away to be nursed and refused Yuichiro a second more of his company. Mattered little. Mikaela was the beneficiary of his full attention. “I told you, it’s my friend’s!” He answered with a tender laugh. They walked off the platform hand-in-hand. “A human.”At this, Mikaela continued his wordless smile, a newfound substitute for when he didn’t understand. And a newfound tactic to make Yuichiro’s heart skip a beat. He cleared his throat. “Did you bring your veil?”“Yes.”A small, silken cloth was tied in a neat bow around his belt. Ferid’s doing, it appeared. Disappointment rose in his chest at the thought, but not enough to erase the comfort of his absence. “Your association with human society is rather interesting.”“You say that like I was never human!”A flimsy chastising considering how often he ‘forgot’ Mikaela’s vampirism. Remembering their presence or finally deeming it worthy of note, Chess yelled, “Hold it right there! You can’t just run off! Lord Crowley deserves a rematch!”He looked over his shoulder to a Crowley adorning a lazy smile bereft of wounded pride. The desire to fight must have been of her ego’s accord. “I, too, require another battle,” Horn added. Aware of Mikaela’s moods when deprived of both blood and his own company (he’d grown to enjoy both at once), Yuichiro gave a smirk too pleased to be conciliatory. “Sorry, I promised Mika we’d—”“No,” Mikaela broke in, “He is excused.”“Y-Yes, Your Royal Highness…”Chess and Horn acquiesced at once but sustained their anger on his way out.  ‘Was that really okay?’  He wondered, running his fingers across his scabbard.  ‘First Ambrus and now…’  The same vague restlessness which haunted him the other day took hold of him.“Mika?”He received eye contact - an easy feat when nothing pulled Mikaela’s interest in the halls. Despite alleging he hadn’t noticed the sparkling and ever-present artworks donning his image, he appeared more averse than indifferent. “Don’t get me wrong… I’m psyched about my last fight. But Crowley’s  super  powerful, isn’t he? He has a sire as strong as yours. Even if he’s just an alpha.”To his surprise, Mikaela nodded. He never expected him to acknowledge anyone’s power at his level. “Then there’s Ambrus… he should’ve taken my head off, but I left Ferid’s room without a scratch.” Yet he met this with silence. “My body didn’t feel like mine anymore. Makes me wonder if—““I did it.”Yuichiro advanced a few steps more until he processed his words. 
‘… Mikaela did it?’
“Did what…?” He asked as slowly as he turned to him.No answer was given. Mikaela’s eyes grew dim, as if once more, he stared at something beyond him, far into the frigid past. Rather than a voice dry of affect, it trembled.Timider than he’d ever heard it. “I had to protect you…” He continued, “I couldn’t let you die. Not again.”Yuichiro jolted.  “… Again!?” He sped to his side. “Mika! What are you saying!?”The moment he was within reaching distance, Mikaela embraced him tightly, as though he’d shatter into pieces if he released him. “I am never letting you go… If anything happened to you…”His frame trembled. His nails clung, dug into Yuichiro’s back. “I was not… who she says I am. I can’t be when… But deep down… something’s wrong… something’s…”“‘She?’” Yuichiro returned his hug but remained firm. “Do you mean Shinoa?”“It’s because of me. It has to be me… no one could—survive that… so why… why not when—”
“Mika!”
Mikaela flinched at the unforeseen yank out of their embrace.His eyes cleared into the cold, sharp irises Yuichiro always knew. He blinked away the traces of tears and gazed about the hall. When he found (indeed, he did not perceive his presence until then) Yuichiro, he tilted his head. “… Is something wrong?”No way Yuichiro would brush this off. “You said—” 
‘Yu, please. No more of that.’
He gave pause. His heart sank.Just this once, he’d give him a break. “… You were saying you’d never let me go.”“I notice you feel the same,” Mikaela remarked, returning the hands squeezing his upper arms. Yuichiro trailed beside him sheepishly until they reached the door of the old cellar, upon which he gave Mikaela the unnecessary help of unraveling the veil around his belt. The gentle silence of Mikaela’s trust made even the most mechanical of motions feel safe, wanted, and correct. He knocked, adjusted the corner behind his ears, then finished his third tap of the knuckle. “Come~ing!” A voice bright and girlish called from inside.Akane threw open the door.“Yo, Akane!”And she froze. Without a word, her eyes shifted from Mikaela to Yuichiro, from Yuichiro to Mikaela, until she slowly it. “Hey! Open—”The cacophony of slammed freezer doors, screeches of moving chairs, and books falling cut him off. “Why didn’t you tell me the prince was coming!?” She babbled, “I need to straighten up! Oh, this won’t do!” Markers rolled against the floor. “Find the right blood! What was it? Younger, right? He likes younger blood!?” Upon Yuichiro’s “Yeah, that’s fine!” the door flew open once more, with an Akane more frazzled and smile more pained with surprise. “W-Welcome, Your Royal Highness!” She said, giving her best curtsy.Sure it was the smell of promised blood that drew him in, rather than any hospitality, Mikaela stepped in with utter disregard to her welcome. Akane appeared unoffended to the core and, hands clasped in thankfulness, opened a seat for him. Yuichiro didn’t receive the same warmth, however.  Instead of fancy curtsies and pulled out chairs, all he got was an angry pout. “What’d I do?” He asked, though so accustomed was he to this expression that worries were scarce.“You and I need to talk.”Is what she said, but she closed the window with haste to the garden that lit up her little corner of the palace. Two glasses of blood stood before her monarch. “What will it be, Your Royal Highness? I have the blood of a ten-year-old girl! Is that okay?” “Yes,” He affirmed, addressing her for the first time in her entire life. Her squeal denoted as much. “Enjoy, Your Royal Highness!”Having secured a lack of attention by offering Mikaela such a long flute glass of blood (he lifted his veil to drink), she scurried over to Yuichiro and whispered as if they’d awaken Mikaela. An argument soiled the home-like atmosphere for her guests, she explained later. “And you!”Yuichiro recoiled. “What!?”“Don’t ‘what’ me! How dare you go and drink human blood without asking  me  to serve it to you!” She poked his chest with each word. “Some people get  boyfriends  and forget all about their friends!”“I didn’t ‘drink human blood’!”He didn’t know why they were whispering.  “Don’t play dumb!” In the single leap of a dancer, Akane grabbed one of her mixing spoons.But not without giving Mikaela a small tray of blood congealed cubes.Mikaela didn’t look at it, but he pulled it closer through instinct, an act that cast her aglow with pride.“Behold.”Thrust in Yuichiro’s face, what angered her stuck out at once. The green to which he’d become so accustomed since birth transformed into a fierce, deep crimson, akin to each vampiric soul in the estate.
“What!? Huh!? The hell!? How’re my eyes red!?”

“If anyone knows, it’s you!”

“But I didn’t do anything! I—”
When recognition became a light shining down upon him, Yuichiro shut up at once:
All he needed was to forget, if not for a little while.

Guren’s question of how he would save him came round in his head. Even when he tried to think about something else, it soon pushed into his brain again.

So he pressed his lips against Mikaela’s. If he couldn’t confirm he was safe, then he’d confirm he was here in his arms.

He’d nuzzle against a lack of warmth that wasn’t a stranger to him.

Now and again, when he’d sneak a peek at his lovely face, he could see Mikaela’s half-lidded eyes trailing to his dresser, where a warmed teacup of blood waited from him.

He pulled back and said with a honeyed tone, “It’s okay, Mika. Go ahead.”

Mikaela sat up, muttered brief words of gratitude, and finished his afternoon snack.

No sooner was his chin in Yuichiro’s hands.

“Yu,” He had said, “I just drank.”

“Who cares?” He mumbled against his open lips.

He continued their kiss until the sweetness of dusk filled his room.

Their only break was for Mikaela to feed.

“…”

No wonder it felt strange.

“Remember now?” asked Akane, her hands deadlocked on her hips.

Yuichiro was thankful Mikaela occupied himself with his cubes so that he may not see the utter mortification casting his skin aflame.

“Uh…” He began, scratching his cheek, “Sort of…”

A careful read of Yuichiro’s face, the way his pinky finger brushed against his bottom lip, and where his eyes landed on Mikaela’s, made her mouth hang open.

“You’re kidding…”

“It was an accident!”

“Hardly! An act of romantic negligence, I’d say!”

“Shut up!”

“Oh, Prince Illustrious~!”

“You better not!”

Akane skipped to Mikaela and basked in his presence.

“Is there anything else I can get you? I’m so honored to be serving you in my shabby old shop!” She said, drumming her hands on the table.

Mikaela popped another cube into his mouth.

“I am satisfied, human.”

“Glad to hear it! How long have you been friends with Yuichiro? How long have you been lovers!?”

“We are vampires.”

The absoluteness of his answer inflicted the impression it was she, not him, who misunderstood.

After this, Mikaela sipped and kept to himself, as Yuichiro expected.

“Phew.”

No more material for her.

When she, too, came to this conclusion, she took a defeated yet ever-energized step from the table and back to her friend.

“Don’t think you’re off the hook, Yu!” She asserted, thrusting a hand into her apron’s pocket and pulling out a white envelope.

Yuichiro snorted when he took it.

“Let me guess, another coupon—”

In the envelope, he found two tickets. They decorated them with roses against the backdrop of a night sky. They were for a show, and the title paled his face.

He regretted assuming Akane was but an innocent bystander, that she wouldn’t be roped into any schemes regarding Mikaela.

‘Their bond was close, the queen turned him, and they’d met an unfortunate end outside their control.’

He wished he hadn’t been so keen on vague explanations, for Shinoa tied her into—

“The Prince of the Black Moon…?”

“Surprise! We’ve been working on it since early fall! To make it up to me, you’re going to come to cheer us on.”

A shadow play. Curtains veiled the actors for the show’s entire duration, wherein they’d rely on their bodies and props to tell the story. To his disturbance, someone other than Akane had touched his tickets. Next to the director’s name, he read a note to ‘bring Mikaela Illustrious.’

“Miyuki Yamada…?”

“Yep! She chose me as the lead! Isn’t it great!?” Akane held her face with a dreamy sigh. “I get to be a prince just like her!”

“The lead, huh…”

His eyes drifted to Mikaela. He couldn’t swallow.

“My role is really tragic and fun!” Akane cried, slipping Yuichiro’s tickets into his pocket.

“Try not to cry during my performance, ’kay?”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Akane’s biggest supporters side-stepped each other in the aisles of their front-row seats. Their distance promised a glamorous event without being exposed to the vampire section of the audience chamber. They’d chosen their best gowns for Mikaela’s apparent degradation. Some donned feather caps, and their highest heels clicked onto the floor. Yuichiro smelled their perfumes from afar, full of hints of lavender and roses. Their moods couldn’t have been further apart.‘Miyuki Yamada’ must’ve had another reason to call her production a shadow play. Either that, or Ferid’s involvement made it impossible to shroud his decorated actors in a veil where only their silhouettes appear. The backdrop bore a resemblance to  The Prince of the Black Moon’s  cover.  A large full moon shrouded the back of the stage. ‘Stars’ of confetti and glitter covered the ‘night sky.’ Despite the scant color difference of dark granite vs. black, he discerned an elaborate castle hid in darkness.The orchestra warmed up in the renovated pit below. As Yuichiro took a final inspection of his tickets, he smiled with triumph at the evening’s one consolation—he refused to bring Mikaela. No longer would he dance in anyone’s palms. Whatever plans Shinoa or Ferid had for him only spelled trouble, or worse, pain for his sire. He’d support Akane, endure a story he experienced enough times to feel countless, and end the night with—“Hello, Yu.”The voice of the person he wanted to hear least made him jump out of his skin. Even in the most shadowy corners of the auditorium, Mikaela’s eyes appeared ever bright.“Mika!?” He swallowed the fear that already tampered with the way he said his name. What’re you doing here…?”He found his answer with a meager, rightward glance. Prim and proper in the furthest row sat Ferid Bathory, who smirked and waved with the vigor of an efficient saboteur. ‘That bastard…!’ “I desired your company,” Mikaela testified for himself, “and followed the scent of your blood.” His was a more flattering account, but Yuichiro didn’t have time to give into the happiness that unfolded within him like a flower.“You don’t say…”Mikaela installed himself into the seat beside him, for Yuichiro, against his better judgment and every muscle screaming at him to be still, offered his sire his preferred seating arrangement. He hadn’t a clue when he started bending to Mikaela’s will so easily. “I see. Another performance.”“Yeah! But it’ll bore you. We can go somewhere else—“With a raised hand, Mikaela interrupted, “It is unnecessary to change your plans.”At any other time, the consideration would have pleased Yuichiro. Lest he make the impression it didn’t, he fished for a new justification. “But I…” He wet his lips. “I want to do something we both like!”“You are hiding something again.”A sigh the length of a sentence parted Yuichiro’s lips.Lying wouldn’t, and never would, get him anywhere. “You’re… right. Mika, this play could be dangerous for you. I don’t—““What a fragile thing I must be in your imagination…” Mikaela broke in, perplexity aglow on his features.“What? N-No, it’s not like that! I…”A plethora of justifications came to mind, stopping short upon the conclusion that they were all for naught. He shrunk into himself under the light of Mikaela’s smile, who shook his head as if to demonstrate both his affection for, and mental superiority toward, Yuichiro. “I will endure my ennui if this is your desired activity. Surely I can give you this much.”  “… Thanks.”As Mikaela made himself comfortable, Yuichiro slumped in his seat. A palm supported his chin; his legs were sufficiently crossed.‘With everything that happened… will he really be okay—’ “It appears my sire has joined us.” “Your what!?”The universe provided him with an omen as new as it was dark, for which his heart was ill-prepared. In the little opera box, which housed Urd Geales during his visit, stepped the vampire who owned the estate:Krul ' Tertius Sator'  Illustrious.For the first time, he witnessed her in the flesh. One glance at her decadence and the painstaking details inflicted on Mikaela, from each upward curl of his locks to the perfect crescents of his toenails, made sense. "What the hell does she want with a play!?" "I am uncertain. My sire's appearance is uncommon."Yuichiro hadn't stopped staring. While Mikaela's irises had a shocking contrast, hers appeared at home with the rest of her features, as though she was born to play the part of a vampire. That was to say nothing of the aura emanating even from afar, despotic and frigid and no doubt the source of Mikaela's unrelenting countenance. "She's the one who…""Killed you? Opulent, isn't she?""Ack!"No more did the visage of Miyuki Yamada confuse him. Despite donning the princely viscount's appearance, Mikaela was correct about the incapability of masking her blood. Shinoa could appear as just another maid in her Sunday best for all she cared. Her scent remained. "You're here too!?" "Of course!" Her hand rested on the back of his seat. Her spine bent at a ninety-degree angle to meet his face. He hated it."Why wouldn't a director come to her own event? Hello, Prince Illustrious. You're opulent yourself today."Presumably fixed in one of his signature trances, Mikaela didn't answer. It elated Yuichiro that his former personality's vestiges made themselves known on more rare occasions, such as the preparation for ennui. "Yes, well…" A peculiar glimmer in Shinoa's eye surfaced when she flicked her gaze above, directly into the eyes of the queen. "Your death justifies your anger at her. But why don't  you  wish her ill will, Illustrious?"The air chilled from afar but subdued when Mikaela replied, "Whatever for?"Yuichiro grew crestfallen, and Shinoa scoffed."You're right." She waved her palm like a white flag. " Illustrious  doesn't know. Only your true self." She must've known how Yuichiro felt about sentiments such as those, which sounded akin to 'real Mikaela' and 'fake Mikaela,' but this only made her press forward."You're two sides of the same coin, Your Royal Highness. But does the front ever recognize the back?"For a moment, she met Krul's gaze, as if daringly asking the queen herself. The darkness balling up the latter's face was one so deep Yuichiro himself had to look away.  The dimming lights only worsened the effect. "I suppose I had better find my seat," Shinoa said, though her travel was but the row behind them. "You enjoy yourselves!" Yuichiro mimicked Mikaela's posture and prepared himself for reactions far worse than boredom. "Yeah, right… how would I have any fun?"At that moment, the swell of orchestral music filled the audience chamber, bold, heavy, and lead by strings. Rose petals rained from the technical crew above, who themselves were not free from costumes of grandeur (feathers and sparkles abounded). A unit in black pushed a set-piece depicting an old village forward.To his surprise, Shinoa had put on an amateur ballet. On opposite sides of the curtain, two ‘muses’ in gowns waterfalling to their knees leapt onto the stage. “At last! At last! The story is finally here!” The left one cried, sustaining a turn on her right foot. As she spun, her gown floated like a cloud.The rightward muse followed her movements. “The story is about to unravel!” They assembled in  arabesque  and revolved around each other.“A story of two princes!”“The prince of light!” She smiled, her grin dazzling.“And the prince of the black moon!” She hid her face in her hands.Yuichiro drew a scant breath, and his hand found itself entwined with Mikaela’s. Despite his quizzical look, for his nervous energy could not escape him, he accepted it graciously. “In a remote village far away, a charming young boy was born to a barren woman! A miracle!”The leftward muse leaned into the right’s ear on one foot; her leg fanned out in the air. “But was he just a boy?”The rightward muse mirrored her. “Miracles happen every day!” “A god will grant them if you’re in their good graces!”“Who is the god in this tale?” “I wonder!”“I wonder!”Having returned to the ends of the stage, therein lay Akane’s cue. The light cast upon her was nothing if not heavenly. Though donned in clothes befitting an impoverished child, the fruits of her labor shone in her enchainment across the platform.   “Mother, it is I! Your darling son!” Her ‘mother’ held her chest and knelt at Akane’s feet. “How kind of you to take mercy on me! How benevolent you are to complete my family!”A nameless group gathered in fifth arrangement around Akane. “Dearest neighbor, I’ve come to bear witness to your son!” “As have I!” “Me as well!”   “We love him! On this, we pray!”  Yuichiro frowned. Never had a god been mentioned in  The Prince and the Black Moon.  His knowledge of a deity of any sort was courtesy of his caretaker, granted upon him by Ferid. If that confirmed his involvement…
‘This isn’t good…’
The muses received a basket of azaleas into their arms, and with perfect fluidity, doused the ‘young boy’ in petals. “He was loved and exalted, yet his father…” On this, a pensive older gentleman whose steps were echoed by a bassoon, with leg muscles that betrayed equal strength to  promenade en arabesque,  entered stage right. “So overwhelmed with jealousy was he that he sold him to the queen of the black moon.” Akane swooned to the floor. “But tell me why, father! Why must you abandon me!?”Her theatrics prepared her well for theater.“Look at your mother!” By now, the actor faced away from the stage and washed her feet with her hair. “All she does is bow to your presence! She is nothing but bones! If you stay in the house, her death is assured!”“But I can fix her! Please give me a chance—!” Having ‘slapped’ her, the father roared, “No! I cannot stomach the sight of you! Your eyes are a mirror into my depravity!”Mikaela was fine, but Yuichiro couldn’t help but notice the curiosity that had returned to his features. A twinkle of interest.As a reader of his own 'story' himself, he picked it up as well.How 'off' this rendition had seemed.  The horn section thundered along with the queen's entrance. Subtlety be damned, she was the spitting image of the one watching from above, which earned curious whispers from the young ladies in the crowd. "Ahahaha! I, the queen of the black moon, will take care of him just fine. For I am a god too." Yuichiro raised his brows. "No, father! I assure you she is a blood-sucking demon!" "Beware! Beware! The assurance of false gods!" The muses sang as they leapt. "They're everywhere! Even from above!"Dare he glance at Krul?"This is the end for you. Make use of yourself there.""But little did the father know," laughed the leftward muse, "despite her cruel conditions, the boy experienced love there as well."The technical crew pulled the old village's set pieces apart, replacing it with a prison beneath the castle.Here it came.He squeezed Mikaela's hand again, whose brief smile at him assured no harm had been done. Puffing out her chest, Akane strutted to the very edge of the stage and earned wave after wave from her blood maiden friends. "Worry not! So long as I am the prince of light, you shall never fear for the future!""Oh, dearest prince of light!" Cried a group of young children after a synchronized dance around Akane, "You are the only relief we have in this world. We love you!""We will always protect you!""On this, we pray!"For reasons unbeknownst to him, Yuichiro was grateful their time on the stage was brief, but the actor playing 'himself' usurped this relaxation playing. "The prince of light had a special love too! A romance from a pretty young boy." "No maiden?" He mumbled to himself.Mikaela even tilted his head. "Strange… they are changing the story again." The boundaries between reality and fiction had blurred under Ferid's creative directions. A dance duet followed, slow and romantic, of Akane and the 'young boy' played by Chihiro. Not once did they let go of each other's hands as they swept along the stage. "Oh, fair lover, I may be a god, but with you, I am a true human being!" Chihiro echoed, "Oh, dearest prince, I promise not to drown you in idolatry but to bestow upon you the unconditional love of a human heart." The two froze themselves in time before their kiss reached each other's lips. The rightward muse crawled into space between them."They gave each other their hearts. But the queen, furious that her captive was more cherished than she, put an evil curse on him!"A hard thump of the piano keys punctuated Akane's tragedy. The lights on her grew harsh, the shadows spreading beneath her immense. "Noooo! I am a demon too! Who shall dare stare at me!? Who will give me the softest touch!?"She reached out her arm. Yet the children ran in the other direction, away from what the prince had become. "Our prince is a monster! A monster!""I have lost my light…" Akane whimpered, clutching onto her chest as she sank to the floor. "I must be no other than the prince of the black moon!"However, there to hold her in her darkest hour was not the Chihiro, but the queen. "What an intolerable sight you have become! You're like me. But know that I am with you." 
‘Is that how I…’
Was that how Yuichiro found himself in the clutches of the queen? Something  pulled  his mind   again, a piece of the puzzle that breathed life into the vague, dismal image in the back of his head. The goal of this play, he discerned, wasn’t a performance.“Yu.”Happy as he was surprised to receive Mikaela’s voice, he latched onto it for a brief escape. “What’s up?” “Why does he go find the prince? Surely he will be captured.”Yuichiro couldn’t answer. “Prince! Prince!? Where are you!?” Chihiro cried, “How long have you been gone!?”“Why is this so… irritating?” Mikaela mumbled.Yuichiro gave a playful squeeze of his hand. “It’s just a story, Mika…”His voice was thicker than he’d like, as if he begged him to stay calm, not to get too invested.“Yes. However…”As Mikaela predicted, the queen took hold of Chihiro’s neck. “You want to find the prince? I’ll put you to sleep!”“Help! Help!” Their ‘chase’ was an exquisite duet, and when Chihiro at last fell, the pianist slammed his fingers on the keys. “She placed his lover under a death-like sleep!” The rightward muse cried, spinning  en pointe.  The leftward muse added, “There was no one to wake him! The prince had been locked away for months! He was so thirsty! Thirsty for blood!” “They are vampires…?” Mikaela asked. All the lights went out; only the muses’ voices were audible. “She brought his sleeping lover swathed in blankets to the prince. Unaware of her identity…”The lights shone stark on Akane and Chihiro, the latter dead, bleeding in her arms.“… The prince drank his lover and killed him.” Akane cried on command more convincingly than those crying in earnest. But something more haunting lived in the way she hunched forward and sobbed. She appeared  coached , as if a faithful witness to Mikaela’s suffering had taught her how to move, how to speak. “Somebody help! Somebody, please help him! I—” Another scream. Another torrent of tears. She rattled every human before her. But to his dismay, her cries overwhelmed the room enough to touch more than mere mortals.The hand sheltered in his own trembled.  He hardly made out Mikaela’s voice. It was low, trembling. “Hyakuya is…” was all he discerned.Somewhere along the way, he’d gathered the courage to look up at Krul once more, whose frown had deepened into a scowl. Directed at Mikaela. “Mika…?” Yuichiro voiced, desperation growing like weeds in his heart. An impossible chill manifested where Mikaela’s hand slipped away. He held himself, his eyes luminous before he squeezed them shut. “I…!”“Mika, let’s get out of here. Please—““I killed him!” Akane shouted again, “Why… why did I kill my only family!?”“Mika.”“Why did I turn into such a monster?! Why didn’t I love him enough!?”“Mika, look at me—““Why did—“ “Stop!”   Mikaela’s scream tore through the entire audience chamber. The chandeliers above rattled. Humans closed their ears until they collapsed on the armrests, the back of the chairs, their friend’s shoulders.Chihiro and Akane, the muses, the technical crew, all dropped onto the stage. Everything fell silent.
“Akane!” 
“She’s still alive.”Yuichiro spun round to Shinoa, but before he could speak, she directed his attention to the empty seat beside him.Ferid was nowhere to be seen.“Go search for your missing prince. I’ll take care of the fallen princess.” Yuichiro gritted his teeth. Once again, he’d slipped right into her trap, but none of that mattered more than Mikaela’s disappearance.  Outside the auditorium, Yuichiro spent no more than a second realizing the ideal spot to run into Mikaela. For where else did he find safety and serenity more than his chamber?Where did he summon Yuichiro most?“Mika!”Mikaela hid not in his room but far off into the realm of darkness that preceded it. The breeze from which there lived no source felt like pins and needles on Yuichiro’s skin. Trampled flowers that once remained unharmed receded into the ‘earth,’ which pulsated beneath his feet like a heart. It synchronized with his pulse. His painful little pulse.A closer inspection of Mikaela revealed what he sobbed over. Though it shared the space of the old tombstone, the name appeared anew. ‘Yuichiro Hyakuya’ was etched in new granite, denoting a tombstone fresh from the morgue.  “Mika, it’s me—!”“Don’t touch me!” Mikaela shouted, shoving Yuichiro into the flowers. Large tears of blood rolled down his cheeks, his fangs bared. “You’re not real! My Yuu is…”He returned to his tombstone, digging his nails into the granite and ruining the fingertips of his gloves. His other hand gripped his stomach. “I can still taste your blood… I worked so hard to join you… so why…  why can’t I die!?” Yuichiro tried again. “I’m right here!”“Shut up!” Mikaela arched forward and covered his ears. “Please! Go away!”“No! I’m not leaving you!” 
“You’re lying!”
Despite his screams, Mikaela didn’t try to shove Yuichiro’s arm away. Instead, he clutched it like he wouldn’t let go. Like he was confirming his insanity for even touching it. “None of this is real… something this convenient couldn’t come true…” “I am!” 
“Even if he lived, he’d despise me! Knowing what I’ve done… if I turned him into a filthy, ugly bloodsucker…! What could he feel but despair!?”
Yuichiro yanked him into his arms and brought them face to face. 
“He doesn’t hate you!”

“You know nothing! How would you know!?”

“Because I love you, Mika!” 
At that moment, whatever hid in the darkest crevices of his mind had snapped. Memories after memories flooded into his brain. Not of the images Ferid painted, but even images he’d yet to see. Mikaela’s words, his smiles, his gestures, from childhood to adolescence. They flooded into his head like a pressure valve broken. He loosened his grip on Mikaela. His hands fell into the daffodils. “It’s you…” was all Yuichiro could muster. At this, Mikaela’s eyes, washed out from tears, grew hazy, and he swooned toward the grave.
“Mika!”
Yuichiro caught him at once and rested his head on his lap.He hated it, how his progress with Mikaela belonged not to him but to those who treated him without care. A fear manifested that he would have to rely on them, on Mikaela’s pain, to awaken him again.The love flooding into his heart engorged it with memories of affection and pain.He coughed. Held his breast. Mikaela,  his  Mikaela, was the one who brought him back if Guren’s testimony was accurate.A simple wish.Yuichiro didn’t come back loving him, even recognizing him, perhaps out of the fear he had just vocalized. How little he would deserve forgiveness or his return.He just wanted a world where he existed. Nothing more.“I’m sorry,” Yuichiro faltered, “I never should’ve let you stay…”How was it even supposed to end?Was Shinoa so sure Chihiro’s ‘death’ would trigger this that she didn’t plan anything?
“Because of me—“

“I wish…”

Yuichiro fell silent at once so that he may hear his every word.

Minutes passed before Mikaela continued, droning on as if half asleep.

“… We could live somewhere in the countryside… live… peacefully…”

Yuichiro smiled.

“Mika… I remembered how sorry I was that I didn’t find you.”

Mikaela flinched.

Running his fingers through Mikaela’s hair in the manner Guren did for him, Yuichiro continued.

“I didn’t want you to be alone. I could never hate you—“

“Yu…”

“Hm?”

Mikaela’s eyelashes fluttered as if he was fighting sleep.

“I don’t want… to be in a world without you. So if this is a dream… please don’t wake me up…”

But he had to, Yuichiro caught himself from saying.

Not now.

Now wasn’t the time.

“You don’t have to sleep. I’ll be here.”

Unconvinced, Mikaela nuzzled into his lap.

“… I’m scared.”

“Don’t be.”

“Sometimes, it’s hard for me to believe you exist. Maybe… if I had more time…”

Yuichiro laughed softly.

“You’ve been sleeping for 500 years. How much more do you need?”

Mikaela fell silent.

“It’s okay,” Yuichiro said at last, “After all, you’ve been waiting on me forever.”

Besides, he loved Mikaela, awakened or asleep.

Mikaela was never a ‘fake.’

He wasn’t two sides of the same coin.

He was whole.

Mikaela Hyakuya was Mikaela Illustrious; Illustrious was Hyakuya.

“Here, I’ll promise something.”

Yuichiro held him closer, wrapped his arms around him.

“The next time you wake up, I’ll be the first person you see.”

“Okay…”

The moment Mikaela closed his eyes, the garden had disappeared. Before him was a regular part of the corridor, no darkness shrouding him or daffodil fields to sit in.

Just the simple reflective tile before a majestic door of the estate.

Yuichiro smiled.

He didn’t need a grave anymore.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

“Ariadust, right?”

Before Yuichiro was a young woman about Akane’s age, mousy, rosy-cheeked, and hiding the brightest brown eyes behind a thick pair of glasses. She stood in the dining hall’s upper corner, a meeting place often reserved for him and his nosy friend. She did not stretch out her hand but fanned out her dress in a curtsy, as was the custom to all but Akane when faced before vampire superiors.

Not that he cared for such a thing.

“Yeah…” In fact, it embarrassed him. “Good to meet you.”

The human he knew most in the estate slapped a hearty palm on his new acquaintance’s shoulder.

“Chihiro! Please tell him how our play ended. He has this weird idea about me being a vampire and killing you!”

The morning of Akane’s ‘apparent’ recovery, Yuichiro had waited no later than the early dawn to crash into the dining hall. The sun had scarcely flushed the woven and silk wool tapestry of the curtains with its fresh light.

He’d attacked her in an embrace with enough strength to fold her in two, so relieved was he to hear her beating heart.

However, rather than meeting his relief with validation, she met it with skepticism, chastising him for making stories to supplement his absence from her show.

“I’m sorry… I don’t recall that either,” Chihiro said, echoing Akane’s sentiments.  “I never rehearsed dying.”

“But—!”

“See? I’m not trying to play a trick! We did have a happy ending!” And with a more sullen expression, Akane added, “Honest.”

No.

Yuichiro knew what he saw.

A vampire’s eyes and ears couldn’t be deceived. Akane performed a moment of grief so raw and encroaching on the psyche that even he trembled in his seat. Ferid Bathory had made it so.

‘So who did this to them?’ He thought, ‘Why are they looking at me like I’m crazy?’

His contemplation grew darker.

‘Or was something done to Mika and me…?’

Shinoa appeared capable of using magic in the realm of deception.

Unless—

“One last question! Who directed your play? Miyuki Yamada, right?”

Chihiro smiled. The name alone made her eyes sparkle, and she clasped her hands in fond reverence of her.

“Yes, that’s correct.”

Shaking her head, Akane exhaled, “Phew! We agree on that at least!”

“Then…”

Before he finished his sentence, he lost his two companions’ attention at once. Paled, they stared not at him but through him, as though a monster lurked within his shadow.

“What? What’s wrong?” 
Yuichiro threw a protective glance over his shoulder, only to find the probing smirk of Ferid Bathory.  “Ladies,” He greeted with a sugary sweet and aristocratic air.
The way he articulated the word, his goal seemed to make his perfect white fangs as visible as possible.

The two forced a bow and, to Yuichiro’s irritation, made haste for the kitchen.

“L-Lord Ferid! You look wondrous this afternoon! Bye, Yu!”

“See you soon!” Chihiro added.

“Ahaha! Adorable little lambs, aren’t they?”

Yuichiro raised a fist he had prepared when the distinct scent of a perfumed ribbon floated in the air.

“Hey! We were in the middle of something—!”

“My partner.”

“Huh?”

With an understated chuckle, Ferid placed his chin between his fingers and elaborated, “It was my partner who gave their memories an adjustment. No need to keep them upset now that we’ve expended their use.”

Yuichiro pushed him away. “I knew it! You put on that whole show just to upset Mika!”

“A sacrifice worth making. With how often you snuggle against my master, I thought you’d agree. Isn’t his awakening your end goal?”

The question stung, burned right where his fear of dependency on their cruelty lay, but it also fueled the passion and desperation to distinguish himself from him.

“You don’t need to hurt him to do it!”

“Did you learn that for a fact?”

Yuichiro grew quiet, and Ferid filled the lull with his despicable laughter.

No. He didn’t.

“Well, if a world where Mikaela sees no pain is what you seek, maybe this invitation will advance your goals.”

Raising his head, albeit very little, Yuichiro voiced, “… Invitation?”

Ferid pulled out a summons, a letter with gold leaf trim and the Illustrious insignia stamped at the center.

After throwing a distrustful glare, Yuichiro ripped open the envelope and bestowed upon himself a disquieting signature.

“It’s Mika’s…”

Sire.

The queen.

“She asked me to hand-deliver this to you.”

Krul ‘Tertius Sator’ Illustrious stood at the top and bottom of the paper.

“… You told her my name,” Yuichiro accused, disgust thrumming in his veins.

Ferid’s answer of “She knew your name” felt worse.

Silence more solemn than before reigned, during which the letter hung limp in Yuichiro’s hand.

“Shall I throw it out? Return it?” Ferid asked at last.

A soft, long sigh and Yuichiro folded it up into the tiniest square.

“No. I’m going.” He shoved the summons into his pocket.  “Besides, I have a lot to say…”

Ferid clapped like a member of an audience. “Wonderful! Allow me to escort you.”

Yuichiro followed, and his mind could not relinquish the distinct paintings he passed in Ferid’s gallery: the fingers of his corpse dangling from Krul’s arm, the way Krul fanned his dead body out like a fresh coat.

Should they ever cross swords, she’d be an enemy more powerful than Ferid or Ky Luc. Adding to her physical strength was her overbearing omnipresence in the estate. Every place his feet rested, every object he’d taken in his hands, existed to her.

Belonged to the source of Mikaela’s pain.

“It’s right up these steps.”

Ferid stopped at what appeared to be a cavern at the very end of a marble hall, leading to a stairway that rose to eternity.

“… You’re not coming?” Yuichiro asked, though he hated the weird slant of his voice present in his inquiry.

Upon his fourth step, Ferid remained at the far-off entryway.

“This is not my visit to attend.”

Yuichiro let out a useless breath and continued his journey alone.

‘Be on your guard,’ He told himself. ‘Don’t say anything thoughtlessly.’

As his eyes trailed about the seasonal mural, the thought passed that if he weren’t careful, he wouldn’t make it out alive.
He pushed forward the mounting door representing spring and summer and stepped into the throne room of Queen Illustrious.  
The queen’s chamber was a mounting invention, with a ceiling rising so high that it surpassed the Ariadust home in its forebodingness. Despite the fat windows tiered against the wall, so tucked into the corner was the throne that shadows always cloaked it. The only splash of color belonged to Krul herself, a startling crimson against the silvers and grays more suited for a world of eternal winter.

But what Yuichiro noticed most, more than anything in the room, was that there was only a throne for one Illustrious.

Through the power of his indignation, he stormed to the center of the aisle and craned his head upward.

He asked, brow furrowed, “You sent for me?”

No need to raise his voice. Their ears were equal, keen to perfection.

His tone did nothing to erase her horrid smile, through which the sharpest of fangs peeked from her lips.

“He arrives. My son’s creation. Yuichiro Ariadust, is it not?”

Yuichiro ignored the urge to state that neither soul was ignorant of his name, and he replied with a curt, “Yep. That’s me.”

“’Tis thee I have to thank.”

Her statement took him aback, though he refused to show it on his face. His hand, however, betrayed him by massaging his shoulder.

“… For what?”

Krul narrowed her eyes. “I never expected Mikaela to make a thrall. But his loquaciousness has grown from being in thy company—“

“He can say a lot when people give him a chance!” Yuichiro broke in, quick to defend his sire or boast about him toward one who may see him as less than.

But she deflated his safeguarding energy with a sober, “Indeed.”

No matter what Yuichiro said, it appeared this would be a conversation where Krul dominated the tone, the pace.

He brainstormed how to reclaim it.

“Make it quick. Mika’s—“

“In need of lunch soon? I should say so. The early noon has passed.”

Such an observation shouldn’t have been so swift to shock him.

Before him sat a cold-blooded vampire who’d had absolute control over Mikaela’s identity, livelihood, and most definitely his schedule, for centuries.

So much so that such a little detail offended him.

It relayed the worst of their dynamic.

“I shall not mince words, nor shall I steal more of thy time than necessary,” Krul said, ransacking Yuichiro’s method for her own.

He could do nothing but wait in anticipation for her to take control, and his throat constricted.

“What is it…?”

Whatever she wanted, she thought it vital to stand with grandeur.

“Yuichiro Ariadust… become an Illustrious.”

“What…?”

Yuichiro couldn’t stop his jaw from dropping.

“Thy transformation into vampirism is complete. Thou art eligible.”

He’d spent his time preparing for a sword fight, only to walk into an archery match.

“Thy look of surprise… Didst thou assume I would ask thee to abandon my son?”

“Y-Yes…”

Yuichiro faltered, and he hated himself for faltering.

Not in front of her.

“Nothing can sever the bond between a sire and progeny. I would request the impossible.”

Yuichiro fell silent, for such a statement held true for her relationship with Mikaela too.

“Still thou art frowning. Permit me to list off the benefits that shall befall thee—“

“I can’t.”

So fast did she assume his thoughts, not a moment of silence passed between his rejection.

“Capability is not the question. Thy sire is an Illustrious—“

“No…” Yuichiro insisted again, fist clenched.

“What worries thee? Through my authority alone—“

“Mika isn’t an Illustrious! And I’d never be after what you’ve done!”

"…"

The dark little face Yuichiro met at the performance returned, albeit not as harsh. However, what came back with a vengeance was the disturbing chill in which she filled the room. 
“Thou art knowledgeable… of who severed thy previous life.”
“Duh!” He cried. He took a bold step forward, to the dismay of his better judgment and the satiation of his heart. “You fed me to Mika! And you know, too, don’t you!? How I’m back here!”

Krul returned to her seat and made a steeple with her fingers. “… Yes. That girl.”

“What girl!? Shinoa!?”

“No. Another… a girl with the same spirit.”

The answers he sought would be forever elusive if the discussion continued like this, so he changed it to the most resounding question he, and his caretaker, had during his visit.

“… Tell me. Is Mika really a god?”

“Tell me,” Krul mimicked, “Art thou on the girl’s side? I wish to know whether this is our last, peaceful exchange.”

‘Before I consider yourself worthy of death,’ her eyes said.

Yuichiro swallowed. “… I’m not.”

This must’ve been the correct answer, for the Krul’s entire posture relaxed. “Then, aye. Thy resurrection is a product of his grief.”

Lacking the naïveté to believe he gained her benevolence, his next words were a verbal scalpel to dissect their conversation.

“Why’re… you being so open with me?”

“I speak ‘openly’ so we may put those trifles behind us.”

“Trifles!?” Yuichiro stopped himself from shouting.

“After all, thou art a human no longer, but a vampire, perfect in every way.”

Yuichiro shook his head, trying to parse the gruesome grin before him.

“… Was that your plan from the beginning?”

His question only deepened it.

“Nay, but it is nothing to despise. My son made thee his favorite little playmate, and I cannot resist his desires. ’Tis why I offered thee to be an Illustrious—“

“If you cared so much about Mika, you wouldn’t have destroyed his family!”

Forsaken by carefulness, the outburst ejected from his throat without foresight. But Krul betrayed nothing but bewilderment.

“Thou art mistaken.”

“I’m not! You took me away from him!”

Despite Yuichiro’s newfound memories, rarely did he need them to drive his affections toward Mikaela. He loved him enough, loved him as much as he possibly could. Their time in the present was just as powerful to carry out his scorn.

“I took nothing from my son. This estate has always been the home of Mikaela Illustrious.”

‘Illustrious…’

Yuichiro gritted his teeth.

“This again…”

“My son did not ‘lose’ his family.” A sense of superiority cast her aglow. “He has me. He found in you a companion. Furthermore—“

“No! I’ve heard enough of your—!”

In seconds, Yuichiro slammed into the floor. The heel of the queen dug into his solar plexus.

“I shall do anything to protect my son’s stability,” Krul informed, leaning toward his face.

“Ngh…”

Try as he might to break free, she pinned him with a meager step.

“If thou art here to be merry with Mikaela Illustrious, I shall tolerate your presence. However, should thou wish nothing but to rehash the heartbreak of a dead child, I shall be rid of you.”

“I’m—!”

“Answer this. Is my son not enough?”

After another failed attempt to lift her shoe, Yuichiro forced, “They’re not… different—“

“They are. My child is the only Mikaela left. The weak thing I destroyed is incapable of enduring thy love, anyway. He is too fearful of reality. Too spiteful of his incompetence.”

Resentment and affection festered within until Yuichiro, at last, found the strength to push her heel off his body.

Either that, or she gave him freedom by her grace.

“The dead child shall not return.”

“That’s not true! He’s always been there! I’ll show you!”

The atmosphere soured as Krul’s face darkened into a scowl.

“Is that a declaration of war?”

All the smiles Yuichiro ever gained from Mikaela powered his affirmation, and he forced himself upward.

“… Guess it is!”

“Consider what thou art rejecting. Together we could keep my child under control. Content. He is a threat to vampirekind. In a world of perfect power and safety—“

“I’m not joining you!”

“… I see.”

In a flash, she kicked Yuichiro across her chamber.

The back of his skull rattled, regenerating in not a millisecond but three heartbeats time.

“So thou hast chosen to become my enemy,” She said, her voice ringing in his ears. “Leave my sight.”

“You’re…” He cracked his neck into place. “… not going to kill me?”

“If I considered thee a threat, thy death would be instantaneous,” She replied, flexing her claw-like fingers.

“… But your ‘war’—“

“Thou misunderstand. My wanting to destroy thee is absolute. My ability is such that I can do it anytime.”

Yuichiro struggled to his feet once more, his vanity wounded.

“So why… not now!?”

Hand resting on her puffed-out chest, Krul sneered, “Perhaps there is something in which I must partake. A holiday, for instance…”

“Holiday?”

“My son’s birthday. October 31st.”

Yuichiro did a double-take.

Indeed, they stood in the dead of October, the aforementioned ‘next month’ where his birthday celebration was to take place.

But for the queen to partake in such leisure—

“Willst thou celebrate as well?”

“… I—“

“Or is thine interest only in the dead one’s day of birth—“

“I love Mika just the way he is!”

Krul raised a brow that appeared to say, ‘Is that so?’ and she started for her throne.

“A most favorable response. And so, let us begin our battle on the day of the new moon.”

“Let’s…”

A step backward drenched in suspicion, later two, then Yuichiro sprinted out the chamber. His mind emptied of any other thought; curses strung along his breath. Fear and pride made a mess of his aching chest, priming him for a battle against anyone, from any direction, who dared threaten Mikaela’s wellbeing. His fingers glued to his scabbard.

So desperate was his pace, he well-nigh tripped on his feet.

He’d yet to grow accustomed to a regular hall preceding the prince’s room. His steps remained careful and stiff as if he continued along a narrow aisle.

A sidestep was unthinkable.

“Mika…?”

Yuichiro opened the door to receive Mikaela’s delicate snoring, a calming catalyst at once.

Ever since his recovery in the garden, he’d found refuge in this new skill. The two-hour slumber served as a haven for his boredom. Curled up beneath the sheets, dressed in entirety save for his boots, only the crown of his head was visible.

Having lifted the comforter, Yuichiro planted a kiss on his temple, his lips blanketed in silky locks. He tried his name again, but all he received was a groggy, “… Longer.”

No articulation. No explanation.

He merely snatched back the sheets.

“It’ll be lunchtime any second!” Yuichiro insisted, tapping his foot.

“Your blood will do…”

The pillow half-smothered Mikaela’s assurance. Eyes closed, he reached out for a wrist, but his favorite treat pulled away the moment he bore his fangs.

“Nope! Get out of bed first.”

Yuichiro discerned the slightest pout when Mikaela turned over.

“You are rather skilled at irritating me.”

“Ahaha! Come on, up we go!”

“Unhand my bedding. I will not rise without a sip of your blood.”

An exaggerated exhale followed. “If I give you my arm, then you’ll wake up?”

“Perhaps…”

Forearm exposed for sacrifice, Yuichiro lovingly rolled his eyes. But how swiftly he melted into perfect stillness, a deep intake of breath, and an adrenaline rush of the fully and wonderfully alive.

So long as Mikaela stayed safe, he’d accept any battle with Krul Illustrious.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

The ballroom’s extravagance had been hand-painted through the fictitious eyes of Miyuki Yamada. Golden fountains shaped as the prince poured wine from his sovereign hands. Countless attendants in their best tuxedos and gowns danced not only with their partners but their perfect reflections upon the glassy marble floors. Beneath the massive crystal chandeliers, glittering in the tender light, hung commissioned artworks of the prince. Once again, their color palettes took command of the thick velvet drapes, the crown moldings, and the fluted columns’ accents and scrollwork. A small orchestra repeated the same sweet melody Yuichiro heard during Yamada’s visit, and even their instruments followed the dress code of the prince’s artwork.The laughter, the golden bubbles rising in the flutes of champagne, the elegant mirrors spaced among the walls, the floral arrangements, each coalesced into a celebration the prince himself wouldn’t care for at all.“Yu!”Akane’s voice startled Yuichiro out of his observation. He tightened the hand holding hers, pressed firmer against her back.“Sorry, Akane…”“Ha! Hope I’m not boring you.”When she laughed, her sparkling earrings bounced.They continued their easy sway, not about the ballroom, but in an easy back-and-forth waltz—the only kind he’d had the patience for learning when he lived with Guren.Akane rested her head on his chest, and a waft of the jasmine in her hair floated past his nose. “I wasn’t kidding when I said it’d be opulent.”“Yeah, but…” Yuichiro glanced at the ice sculpture of Mikaela’s bust. “Why isn’t Mika at his own party?”His plain disinterest was beside the point. He had the right for ennui to consume him at his birthday celebration.“He’ll be here,” Akane nodded. Her voice grew gentle. “I promise.”Silence passed, which she soon ended with a self-satisfied laugh. “I bet nobody notices I’m dancing with a vampire.”“Really…?”In truth, barely anyone made eye contact with him when he glanced amongst the crowd. Many were too busy with their dishes of wild game or delightful, gossiping murmurs to pay him any attention. The white-gloved doormen also said nothing as he passed through the door that night.“Don’t be so surprised! Your face still blends in, you know! And I hope you see that… well…”Akane wet her lips, stared at him with a fond gleam in her eye. “You belong wherever you want.”Having tried and failed to dip him, Yuichiro leaned back the best he could to give Akane the illusion. So pleased was she that she gave vent to a delightful squeal.He couldn’t help but smile. “What brought that on?”“You’ve been antsy all night!”“Nothing gets past you…”Yuichiro lifted himself and basked in the glowing grin of his companion.“I just… forgot what it’s like being around so many people,” he lied.Even so, the scent reminded him of the kitchen. Despite the elegant portions of pasta, rosy perfumes, and wood oils, he only smelled was the blood young and old.The alluring crowd of beating hearts thrummed harder as the guests cried toward the cracking double doors. Some took the napkin puffs out of their wineglasses and waved them about. Groups of friends crowded near each other in failed attempts at whispering, while excitement carried the children’s voices.Equally swept away, Akane bounced and pointed and shouted, “Look, Yu!”“He’s here!?”The footmen pushed open the heavy door into the room, and in walked Mikaela ‘Octavus Sator’ Illustrious. Reminiscent of a wedding, a translucent veil draped both him and his aide’s faces, who carried the ends of his cloak past the threshold. The guests threw flowers from the arrangements at his feet. Choruses of praises followed each one to the floor, sweeter than the creamy tiered desserts in their stomachs.
“It’s the prince! The prince himself!”

“We love you!”

“To grace us with your presence, what a benevolent monarch you are!”
“A flower! Where’s a—”Akane stammered, at last tossing the jasmine keeping her updo together.Above the grandeur, Yuichiro yelled, “Hey! Mika!”But all he received was a stare two heartbeats long.“… Huh?”A member of the serving staff offered Ferid Bathory a flute of champagne. He thanked him with a wink and raised it into the air.“A toast! To His Royal Highness!”Not only did the crowd’s fanfare increase in volume, a feat Yuichiro thought impossible, but they begged the man of the hour to say a few words. If only a few.Mikaela gifted them a brief bow and the statement, “Thank you for celebrating my birthday.”“Good night, Prince Mikaela ‘Octavus Sator’ Illustrious!”Compared to a hoard of vampires, the humans bidding him goodnight bore a liveliness Yuichiro had yet to encounter.“As you were,” Mikaela replied.As he walked off, guests and servers alike whispered about their monarch’s every last detail, from the curl on the crown of his head to the tiny bow on his heel.His appearance begot an afterglow, during which a warm buzz diffused in all directions of the room.Akane sighed, her hands clasped against her cheeks. “That must be my favorite part…”A stark contrast to Yuichiro’s, “… That’s it?”“Hey! Not everyone gets to see him all the time! Be a little more considerate of us humans!”“It’s not that! This is his party, Akane! And he was only here for a few seconds!”‘This again,’ Akane said with rolled eyes alone. “Think of it this way! Would a big dinner of human food be something he’d find interest in?”The bottom of Yuichiro’s lip quivered. “N-No… But still!”Akane took a giant step back and crossed her arms.“I’ve seen that face. You’re going to run after the prince anyway.”“Er… yeah.”“He’s fine, Yu.”“You don’t know that! In fact…”Yuichiro did an awkward dance through the crowd and to the wait staff, who graciously offered him a flute glass and were shocked to find its contents dumped into a flower’s soil.“C’mon Yu!” Akane whined, having danced over herself. She tugged at his upper arm. “The fireworks are going to start, and I don’t want to miss them waiting for whatever you’re doing!”Having raised his sleeve, the thought crossed Yuichiro that he’d better wait to let out blood into his glass. “Go ahead without me. I’m giving Mika a real birthday present.”“Humph. Should’ve known this would happen the minute you two became an item. One look, and you rush toward him like iron to a magnet.”“Tell you everything?”“I expect nothing less!” Akane grabbed an artisan salad from the table. “And I’ll eat for the both of us.”“Ahaha! Appreciated.”Across the stillness of the grand foyer, Yuichiro became immersed in a world feeling like his own again, free of the bustles of lively humans and the decadent scents of the living. The alcohol brought their blood forth, poured into their cheeks. This, too, carried an unrelenting aroma.He pulled up his sleeve and cut into his forearm in his newfound privacy. By the time he crossed the halls, in his hand was a full flute of his blood.He gave Mikaela’s door a light, two-knuckle tap, but he didn’t receive the face he wanted.“Well!” Ferid said, “If it isn’t Yuichiro Ariadust—““Let me in! I need to be with Mika!”Through a crack of the door, Mikaela, already in his signature nightshirt, stole a side glance at Yuichiro. This lasted a mere second, for Ferid wedged himself between the frame.“Whatever for? We were just preparing for his bedtime routine. Or were you going to meticulously brush his—”Yuichiro burrowed beneath Ferid’s arm and extended his neck into the room. “Mika! I wanna talk to you! Is that okay?”Arcanu fluttered off Mikaela’s shoulder as he rose. “Of course.”“Ha! Move over!”‘Bound’ to the will of his monarch, Ferid parted from the entrance so that Mikaela may join his side.“How cruel you are to me! It’s my birthday too!”“What?” Yuichiro’s eyes darted back and forth between master and servant. “You were born on the same day?”“You’re mistaken, Yu dear. We do not celebrate human birth. I became a full vampire on the 31st of October. When I entered this world is elusive even to me.”Yuichiro tilted his head. “Huh…”“I see you had a vampire birthday yourself recently! Is that correct?”He knew it was.The memory of Mikaela’s mouth, stained inside and out with electrifying hints of blood, brought a jolt of pleasure through Yuichiro’s spine.“G-Guess so.” He scratched his rather red cheek. “Anyway! Mika, when did you become a full—“The answer dawned on him, rendered him silent.The question itself gouged at a deep wound.In his rekindled memories, not once did he find Mikaela with the crimson eyes he’d come to know. They were baby blue until his very end.They were baby blue until Ferid’s gallery made a ghastly transition.“No…”His tiny whisper brought Mikaela’s attention to his paling face.Akane’s favorite holiday—the day Krul Illustrious put in high enough favor to stall her plans…“Yu, dear? Is something the matter—““Feeding me to him on your birthday sounds like your idea,” He accused, voice low.With an innocent smile, Ferid said, “It was a mere coincidence! I promise—““Shut up!”They took the day Mikaela lost everything and transformed it into a festivity.Another insult in a language the prince wouldn’t understand.“Mika?” Yuichiro appealed, “I want to give you a present tonight. Will you come with me?”Mikaela glanced back at Arcanu.“At this time, it is preferred I stay in my room.”“What!? You’re the prince! You can do whatever you want! Besides…”Yuichiro lifted his flute before Mikaela’s eyes.“This is for you!”“I have a nice, warmed cup of blood on his nightstand—”“Then you drink it!” He snapped, cutting Ferid off.However, his reminder was all for naught, for Mikaela was halfway finished the moment Ferid parted his lips. By his last swallow, not a drip remained in the innermost curve of the glass.“How was it…?” Yuichiro found himself asking, despite the countless times he’d given it prior.He rubbed the back of his head.“Did you like it?”Having wiped his mouth, Mikaela returned the empty glass not to him but to his servant. Yuichiro, on the other hand, received arms around his neck, lips perched near his collar.“I prefer it from the source…”“W-Wait a sec, Mika! Not in front of—”Laughter broke them apart.“Very well,” Ferid shrugged, feigning defeat, “Take care of my master…”“I swear, I don’t even know why you follow that ridiculous bedtime rule! What does it do for you!?”“Where are you taking me?”Hand in hand, Yuichiro journeyed to the garden with Mikaela following behind. They walked along the stepping stones hidden in the grass. The aisle was framed with small bursts of color, from evening primroses to Casablanca lilies as nocturnal as they.“You’ll see.”With the birdsongs quelled until the early morning and the leaves’ stillness, the garden betrayed a different realm than it did during the day.“When shall I open my eyes?”“How about…” A few more steps. “Now!”Mikaela opened his eyes to a night glittering with stars and a large full moon blanketing the world in the mellowness of its light.“Ta-da!” Yuichiro said, waving his arm toward the sky. “I heard there was a harvest moon tonight, so I wanted us to look at it together!”No answer came.Mikaela took a slow, longing step forward. His eyes transfixed.“I have never—” moved from his lips slowly— “seen the moon like this before.”It almost hurt, the extent to which Yuichiro grinned. “Yeah! Cause they lock you up in your room every other second!”He patted the bench where Mikaela sat the day he caught on fire.“And back during the midsummer festival, we couldn’t see it at all.”Mikaela joined him.“Sooo! What do you think?”His hand found the comfort of Mikaela’s. What it lacked in warmth it made up for in belonging, how well it fit in his.“… Your concern for me never fails to bewilder,” he answered with his first smile of the night.To emphasize his consideration (and lovesickness) further, Yuichiro asked, “Do you want my blood now?”“Later,” was the answer, and Mikaela’s fingers trailed up Yuichiro’s neck to refasten his collar.The whistle of an upcoming firework directed their attention to the cloudless night once more. Its explosion of color shined brightest against the backdrop of the moon. Its crackling speckled the craters with glitter.However, Mikaela’s face, aglow with interest, was the more fun sight for Yuichiro.“It’s pretty, isn’t it?”Again he was met with silence.And in that lull was the opportunity for a depressing thought to return anew.
‘Is my son not enough?’
As he gazed upon the subtle delight of his family, a sting of indignation struck through him like a comet.Before him was…“Mika…” He forced, guilty of pulling him from his beloved spectacle. “You know how I feel about you, right?”“Yes.”He answered with no eye contact, but his tone denoted security.“And you…” Yuichiro swallowed, pushed further. “You don’t think I want you to be someone you’re not?”“I don’t understand…”Yuichiro let out a chuckle of nostalgic affection. “That’s okay.”He followed up with, once the words in his head scrambled together: “I guess what I’m really wondering is… what would you do if I were gone?”In the forefront of his mind, to win against Krul Illustrious was undeniable. But in the back, the uncertainty ate him alive.Should he lose—Should he and Mikaela separate—“I trust you.”How swiftly Mikaela cut off his thoughts with a single phrase.He stared directly at him, his cold eyes absolute.“I am not the best with words, but…” He squeezed their joined hands. “Replacing the solitude I once had is an important goal for you. Our time together is imperative. I do not believe you would leave me.”“… I—““If you were to go, however, then I… suffice it is to say that I would…”Yuichiro drew closer. “You’d…?”“I have a request, Yu. Will you hear it?”“Of course I will!” Yuichiro accidentally yelled. Mikaela, ever-accustomed to his outbursts, didn’t flinch the way others did. “Whatever you want, say the word and—“He did, however, bring two fingers to his lips.“Do not forsake me. For as long as I reign over Sanguinem, please stay by my side.”“Mika…”Yuichiro’s breath trembled as he brought their lips closer, but Mikaela was the one to unite them.He had to win.Those few words echoed into his mind when he held Mikaela by the small of his back.If Krul Illustrious were to take him away again, if she genuinely valued her son’s static life more than anything, then she didn’t understand him at all—“Yu.”The call of his name led him back to Earth. He didn’t know when he led Mikaela onto his back, when his kisses moved to his loosened collar, or when his fangs were inches from the sweet scent of his jugular vein.“I still wish to gaze at the moon.”“M-My bad!”Yuichiro cleared his throat and sat up at once, but not before helping Mikaela tie the bow around his neck.For a while, the two relaxed in tranquility as the latter indulged in his gift. Yuichiro dared not express a word until the final crackle of the fireworks.At the end of the event, when the last of the smoke dissipated from the sky, Yuichiro couldn’t help but say Mikaela’s name.Play with his own musings.“What if we run away together… Just the two of us? Go live peacefully in the countryside somewhere?”Cemented into battle, Mikaela answered without a second of hesitation. In his voice lay a similar tone to when he recited his bedtime rule.“I cannot.”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Monotonous. All of it had become monotonous.His master’s joy, his progeny, elicited his most beautiful of smiles, and he repeatedly triumphed in rekindling a bond in a vampire whose heart had long since died. All of it was too streamlined. Shinoa’s plan grew dull. Even after her performance, wherein she pried into Mikaela’s heart with such intensity, Yuichiro was there to pick up the pieces. He assured his master would always lay in a comfortable bed of reassurances. In Yuichiro’s hands, he was safe for eternity, he was forever fine, and should his awakening continue on such a gentle path, Ferid would have nothing to quench the thirst of what he loved most: his ability to manipulate others with hope and then revel in his own disloyalty. Thankfully, there was someone who offered him respite from his newfound boredom, one he’d been playing a game against from the beginning. Perhaps Krul Illustrious knew about his small betrayals, maybe she didn’t, but when he came to her with his usual mischievous gleam in his eye, promising to return her son, she accepted him with the closest thing she had to open arms: a snide remark and a command for him to lay at her feet like a dog. Through Her Majesty Queen Illustrious, he would enjoy an uprooting more delicious than Shinoa Hiragi’s. In his hand was a tea set he’d carried many times, filled with the blood of second progenitor Urd Geales and a human chosen at random. He strolled to a chamber that he hadn’t enjoyed in centuries. His master referred to it as his ‘old room.’The thought never failed to make him laugh. Only someone as mentally dead as the prince could spend countless days in this place and call it home. It housed nothing but mildew. His sense of smell had grown dull to anything but blood, but he could detect the ancient traces of sour flesh that melded in with the walls’ rust. “Your blood, My Queen.” Ferid set down his tea tray on the sole furniture the cell provided: the smallest cot, too small for Mikaela to even rest on it. It only could have housed the head of a man with no neck. Mikaela had always leaned against the wall. It saw no use. Krul replied with a meager “Yes…” when she received the blood of an older gentleman.“It is the first day of the new month,” Ferid felt compelled to say. His smile stretched; his fangs elongated. “Might I remind you this is the evening of your duel? My master’s progeny should be waiting for you.” Krul didn’t reply until she finished her last sip. “Humph. He is a fool.” She tossed her empty cup into Ferid’s hands rather than on the tray. “He fell into my linguistic trappings without effort. I have no intention of wetting my blade with his unworthy blood. To what end?”“You will disappoint him.”“Disappointed he must be. Dost thou have it?” He gestured to the now lone teacup. “Of course. Only the warmest of refreshments for my master. And yours?” From the depths of the queen’s sleeve came a vial of blood, the one her greatest nemesis had rested at her feet. “’Tis thy last chance to confess thine incompetence. Should this fail, I will end you.” “I assure you—” Ferid bowed— “he will react as you intend.” “Then fetch him.” “Yes, Your Majesty.” Ferid lived too many years to lose himself in the chambers of the Illustrious estate, but even the depths of its underbelly needed a second thought. The higher he climbed to the entrance floor, the more light flooded into the crevices of the halls, the more the scents of humans gathered and wet his mouth. He stilled his keen ears, lest he overwhelm himself with every racketing conversation from the maids. His master was an easy find, thanks to an established schedule. Contingent on the couple’s preferences for the day, they would be outside Mikaela or Yuichiro’s room.The latter proved correct. He’d found him just as he suspected, with that newfound glow upon his face and a bashfulness, weak but ever-chipping away the resolute pride in his frigid eyes. “Come, my master. It is time for a meal.” “I wish to stay with my progeny.”Yuichiro shared his sentiments, considering the particular frown reserved only for Ferid. “This will not take long.” Thus came the words that lessened Yuichiro’s glare by only a fraction. Confusion clouded his features, a distrustful dread of awaiting a summons that still did not come. An impending duel. With a soft squeeze of Mikaela’s hand, Yuichiro said, “Hurry back…” Lazy as he was with his attire, a loose collar revealed the deep bite marks embedded into his neck, enough that blood would linger on Mikaela’s tongue for a while. Perfect. He was too old for relief, but nothing killed the satisfaction of Ferid being correct. The late afternoon, between Mikaela’s progenitor council meetings and the evening meeting with his ‘mother,’ lay the usual time Mikaela and Yuichiro enjoyed feeding off each other. Bite marks lived on his master as well. “I will.” Mikaela’s smile died the moment after he promised. Ennui transformed his entire composure when he accompanied Ferid along the splendorous halls of the estate. “Ferid Bathory,” said Mikaela, silent until they reached the steps of the grand foyer, “I do not need to drink blood.” “Understand that this meeting is a call from Her Majesty, and we would be wise not to insult her.” Mikaela made no answer, but he followed him to the little cell. Upon meeting, Krul stood in reverence to her child, with a smirk betraying her imminent cruelty. “Mikaela… My darling son. Please, come in.” “Krul Illustrious,” he greeted. “Come now, must I remind thee to call me Krul? There is no need for such formality between us.” Again Mikaela remained silent, didn’t crack a smile. Ferid was confident Krul’s imagination filled with the night of the performance, during which he met Yuichiro with the utmost warmth. “Ferid, prepare his drink.”He believed so because of the bitterness in the aforementioned command. Nothing required much preparation. A swallow of Mikaela’s human blood was all he needed. “This is my old room…” Mikaela noted.“Indeed. Dost thou ever visit?”“No. You gave me a new one.” A subtle, ironical laugh followed. “Of course. Thou hast been occupied with thy progeny. Ye seem to get along well.” Mikaela didn’t notice the slant in her voice, denoting what sounded like an accusation more than an observation. “Yes. My progeny desires my company often.” Ferid continued to stir an almost empty teacup. “And dost thou desire his?” “Yes.” Her next question dug into her own wound, Ferid thought. It confirmed what she was about to do to him was the correct choice. It surveyed all the damage Yuichiro had caused. “What is thy favorite memory of him? Canst thou remember things well?” Her upper lip curled at Mikaela’s newfound smile, at his eyes trailing downward, and the demure way in which he kneaded his locks as he searched for an answer. “I cannot say.”Despite this resignation, he followed up with, “Last night, he showed me the moon in a manner I have never seen. My progeny is… so mysterious in how he cares for me. He says he owes me a great deal, and he wants to save me, but I do not follow his reasoning—”“He loves thee.”How exquisite. Krul couldn’t bear a second longer. “I suppose…” Mikaela concurred, his smile not leaving his lips. A flash in Krul’s eyes informed Ferid that she’d had enough of their conversation, so he handed his master the drink. “And dost thou love him?” Krul asked as the rim of the teacup nestled against Mikaela’s bottom lip. He took in a large swallow. “I—” The cup shattered onto the floor, for his hands shook. Slowly, he turned his head toward Krul before his eyes rolled upward, and he swooned. Ferid caught him at once, and his body fell limp in his arms. “See? Did I not—” “Silence, Ferid Bathory. We know nothing of his state.” With minor consideration for the cleanliness of her gown, Krul rested her knees onto the floor. Carefully, Ferid laid Mikaela’s head onto her lap. “Give it time.” “Didst thou witness how he looked at me when I mentioned that boy?”“Yes, your son glows when he speaks of him.” “No.” Krul brushed Mikaela’s bangs out of his face. “That was not my child.” She rested his eyelids to reduce his resemblance to a corpse—an act so gentle Ferid smiled at her play of matriarch and tyrant. Perhaps even she didn’t know the distinction within her heart. “Should this worsen him…” “I assure you, he—” At that moment, Mikaela fidgeted. His eyelids opened little by little, as though fighting an oppressive force of slumber. When the cloudiness in his irises cleared at last, however, his entire body stilled. He drew shallow, rapid breaths at the sight of his old home, at the scent of his beloved’s remains. Dread clouded every inch of his features and plagued him with a deathly chill.“Welcome back.” Krul’s face loomed over his own, flashing her gruesome fangs. After 500 years, he’d returned to his worst nightmare. “N-No… No!”She held down his arms the second he thrashed about.“Whatever is the matter?” she asked sweetly.
“Let me go! Please! I don’t—!”
“Desire to arrive home? ’Tis too late—”
“Stop!”
He tossed and turned out of Krul’s restraint and fled to the exit, slamming his palms and clawing at the metal door.
“Yu…!”
Ferid couldn’t help but play along. He wrapped his arms around Mikaela’s torso with the gentleness of cradling a doomed bird, pulling him back to the innermost darkness of the cell. “Shh… enough of that. What purpose is there to cry out for the dead?” Amused, Krul rested a malicious hand on Mikaela’s stomach. “His life resides here. Canst thou taste him?”He could. His date with Yuichiro assured that. All the evidence he needed was compiling on his tongue. Mikaela slapped his palm over his lips as though the contents of his stomach would empty. He dropped to his knees, pleading to the dusty floors, “I saw him…! He promised… when I woke up…!” “No, no…” Ferid murmured into his ear, “That was a delusion.”
“But he—!”
His voice cracked.“Don’t you remember? I whispered that into your cell. You’ve grown mad, Mikaela.”Ferid took Mikaela’s chin and raised it toward the door. “Look. Do you see him now? Did he answer your cries?” To Ferid’s delight, so far did Mikaela’s tears fall that blood stained his fingers. He trembled, collapsed into another breakdown as though each word were a knife prodding, twisting, and turning into his stomach. “Everything you did together, the life you shared, was a mere product of your imagination…” “A pitiful, painful creation…” Krul followed, “I fanned out his corpse, thou wilt recall. There is no coming back for him now.” “I worried for you, Mikaela. You spent so many days in your cell, talking to no one.” Mikaela yanked himself out of Ferid’s arms and slammed onto the floor, dirtying the side of his face, his uniform. “Don’t…! touch—!” The remainder of his words deteriorated in his throat and left as another sob.In an act both loving and callous, Krul stroked Mikaela’s hair and covered his eyes. “Hush… if it is too painful, thou canst always make it stop.” Ferid cooed above, “You can go back to sleep. Forget everything and run away from the monster you’ve become.” The promise of death helped Mikaela grow more silent. His cries faded into choked sobs, then whimpers. Krul motioned for the teacup of Urd’s blood, which Ferid provided with glee. To strengthen the curse of vampirism and to give him another flavor in which to find comfort, she poured the blood of his true sire down his throat. Mikaela fed on it like a starving infant.“Quiet the taste of his blood. Ease your suffering.” With no risk of suffocation, his sloppy swallows dirtied his chin and neck. As he continued to drink, he drifted off into slumber. His consciousness soon crushed under the weight of his disheartenment. All was still until Mikaela’s hand collapsed. “Well?” Krul asked, wiping the blood off the corners of Mikaela’s mouth. “Hast thou revived my son?” “It appears so. As I predicted, your face and these surroundings did an unruly amount on his psyche.” “Humph…”Krul returned Mikaela’s head to her lap and massaged the pointed tip of his ear. “Let it be known that I have succeeded in our war today, Yuichiro Ariadust. As thou await for a formal battle, thy resurrection of the dead child has ceased. Henceforth, he will restart his life as Prince Illustrious.” As Ferid stepped out of the prison cell, he licked his lips, could have jumped with glee for the despair he had consumed. Pretty and pathetic, Mikaela had found comfort in his manufactured death, only to be ripped apart by a horrific lie. All the while, his lover played with humans above ground.Yuichiro would deplore him and give a wrathful expression Ferid so utterly adored.And Shinoa, his beloved partner, would revert to square one in her quest to awaken the sleeping prince. Everything was worth it.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

“Excuse me!”As the sun just began to rise over the Illustrious estate, illuminating the mirage above the grand foyer, Yuichiro maneuvered his way around his fourth vampire rushing across the left stairwell. He found himself in a clockwork of servants, high-fired porcelain tea sets, and blood whose scent paled in comparison to the traces of Mikaela’s on the roof of his mouth. He’d forgotten what brought him to the heart of the entrance that morning, but he stayed for the spectacle. Though a single step could house no less than seven vampires, shoulder-to-shoulder, he ended up being an obstacle regardless. “Hey! What’s going on?” he asked another vampire, an older woman whose puffy hair reminded him of dandelions. She ignored him promptly, wringing her hands and mumbling to herself:“This won’t do… he’s going to need more blood.”“Who will?”When he didn’t receive an answer, he waited for another vampire to clue him in. A couple balancing their refreshments on old saucers came next. “Hello? Where are you going with that?”They, too, ignored him. However, the samples of their exchange provided crucial information. The wasp-like vampire on the left whispered to his companion, “I’ve never seen His Royal Highness in such a state…!”“Huh…? Mika?”His friend bowed her head as though in mourning. “What sickness occupies his servant’s heart! To have I, an alpha…!”Yuichiro furrowed his brow.Behind their footsteps, he could have sworn he saw… petals.But they disappeared the moment he blinked. “What’s going on…?” “Why if it isn’t Yuichiro Ariadust!”From the top of the banister stood Crowley Eusford, who received him with a wave both warm and lackadaisical. “Care for another spar this morning?”Yuichiro shook his head. “Later. What’s with all the vampires running around? It looks like they’re going to—”“His Royal Highness’s room?” Crowley broke in. At that instant, another vampire stumbled between them, but not without bidding ‘Lord Crowley’ a lovely morning. “Busy, aren’t they?”“… I don’t get it,” said Yuichiro, his eyes following her to the dining hall.“Wouldn’t the maids give him a snack? And why does he need that much anyway?”Beneath those two inquiries lived one closer to his heart: why hadn’t Mikaela chosen him first? Where was Ferid or Arcanu to deliver a summons to his chamber? If he needed blood, he could always ask.So engaged was he in his perplexity that Crowley’s answer threw him off guard. “Not if they want to live.”Yuichiro did a double-take. “What’s that mean…?”Crowley grinned, as if to say he was fated to meet him with more surprises. He then leaned into his ear. “It appears he’s gotten his heat again,” he whispered.Yuichiro’s body stiffened at once. His first retort halted in his throat and fell with a hard swallow.
‘I am grateful for your visit. Without you, my pain would have endured.’
Mikaela had said so.What a glowing, satisfied being he had become the day Ambrus Shishirui made an attempt on Yuichiro’s life. He recalled, clear as the tile at his feet, the declaration of Mikaela’s fullness and his outright rejection of consuming an alpha.“That can’t be right…” he said softly.Crowley shrugged. “That’s what Ferid told me. He went to do his morning routine and found His Royal Highness in agonizing pain—”Yuichiro ran off at once. “Ah! Where are you—”“Where do you think!? I’m checking on Mika!”“I wouldn’t…”Yuichiro all but blocked out the remainder of his words. Mikaela in pain was the sole necessity to put a knife in his heart and power in his step.
‘What happened…?’
He wouldn’t stop until he saw his face.
‘When we were together, you…’
Wrought with bewilderment, his mind wouldn’t let go of every image in Ferid’s gallery, of each painting where Mikaela’s face contorted with pain. A pain he made his greatest purpose to ameliorate. His heart began to throb. “… Mi—!”Immediately after he called for him, a sudden disappearance of the tile sent him tumbling to the ground. “Ngh… what!?”Surrounding him were not lilies but poet’s daffodils, impossibly left standing after he fell on them. Their stance was equal to those basking in sunlight, their amber cups sparkled with dew, and they swayed by a gentle breeze he couldn’t feel.Swallowing their environment was a space of indefinite black. “How…” Yuichiro rose and dusted off his uniform. Just as he expected, not a jade throat bent and not a leaf shifted out of place. And if they existed…Hesitant, he slowly concentrated his vision out east.To his dismay, there lay a slab of weathered granite, and its decay appeared to have worsened since he’d last seen it. He could only make out a bit of his name, but he didn’t need to see it to know its recipient. “We made a promise…”He’d assured Mikaela he lived. All he needed was some more time.“So why…”His footsteps dragged through the garden to Mikaela’s room. His chest felt weighted, like a strange miasma wafted through the breeze he couldn’t touch. The back of his throat began to ache.His bedroom door appeared taller, stretched by insidious forces and looming over him.A heavy chill climbed the ladder of Yuichiro’s spine when he grabbed the handle, for his sensitive nose picked up the scent of blood. Not warm and welcoming, but sour, off. Instincts told him that the source had long since been dead.When he threw open the door, the sight made his whole world stand still.With a smile on his face, Ambrus Shishirui lay empty on Mikaela’s bed. Bare of blood and bone, he was an empty husk whose dissolution into ash had begun at his fingertips. Venom kept him intact. Kept the act as clean as it was vile. Mikaela’s nails dug deep into his torso as he slurped the remainder of his liquified innards. The encircling vampires, bearing the cups of blood Yuichiro had seen carried from the kitchen, stood eerily still, surrounding him like vultures. “… Mi—”Mikaela’s eyes snapped open. He dropped Ambrus onto the bed. Never before had his eyes been brighter, so bloodthirsty. A corner of his mouth twitched. There was no time to react. Mikaela pounced toward him, his hand clawing out for his neck. “Careful, Yuichiro Ariadust!” Not until Ferid Bathory locked Mikaela in his arms did Yuichiro feel unrooted from where he stood. He took a shaky step backward.Mikaela had just… attacked him. He screamed in his servant’s arms as though someone had not just deprived him of blood but stolen it from him. He screamed in frustration. Desperate to drain him dry.To kill.“There, there…” Ferid cooed, guiding Mikaela’s elongated fangs into the flesh of his arm. Upon its scent, Mikaela melted into his arms. “Consume the blood of an alpha. Finish your feeding.” “Feeding…?” Yuichiro choked at last.Mikaela shuddered and latched onto Ferid’s arm like it was the most precious source of reprieve he’d ever encountered. His swallows were large enough to bring Ferid to his knees. “Come now, d-don’t be greedy, my master…”A final swallow and Mikaela’s entire frame relaxed. His fangs unswelled, detaching from the flesh of his servant’s arm and leaving four puncture wounds. His eyes had dulled with his satisfied appetite. Yuichiro approached him slowly. It was clear Mikaela, his family, had been under the influence of his thirst. This was Mika. He wouldn’t try to hurt him.He couldn’t. “Mika…?”His call went answered, so he offered his hand. “Here, let me help you up—”But Mikaela stood without taking it. “Your Royal Highness?”
A vampire in the corner made herself known. She raised a teacup of blood in offering, which Mikaela accepted without a word. Yuichiro gave him a weak smile. “Are you all right? I didn’t think this would happen…”What this meant, he didn’t think he could elaborate. He held back a nervous giggle. But when Mikaela, at last, stared back at him, Yuichiro nearly jolted. Coloring not only his entire face but his very aura was a stark detachment. A cold indifference with the power of a collapsar, sucking the glimmers of warmth and curiosity right out his eyes. Time had gone in reverse. He gazed at the same prince from their first encounter. “I don’t… really understand,” Yuichiro said, keeping his dreadful thoughts at bay. Fighting. “But if you’re not in pain anymore, I’m glad.”Again he received no answer. Part of him, a fearful inner self, refused to search within his eyes. He didn’t want to find the same closed doors as before. “A-Anyway, I didn’t mean to intrude. I was just…”But he broke. “N-No! Something’s wrong, Mika! Why’re you in heat again!? Who are all these people!? Why is Ambrus—”“Vampire.”At last, he spoke. Not an inflection lived in his voice. He addressed him like he addressed Ferid or Crowley: dignified and despotic. “For what purpose are you in my room?”Yuichiro’s heart leapt into his throat. He hadn’t heard those words in so long, and now they’d returned the way he left them. It was reserved for a stranger.“V-Vampire…? Come on, Mika, you know what my name is!”Silence.“And you know why I’m here! You of all people should…!”“Did we have a meeting?”The darkness of dread crawled up from the depths of his mind, providing him a minefield of horrific possibilities. “Hey…” He rested his hands on Mikaela’s shoulders. “Knock it off already.”He held his face, as he’d done many times when he wanted to be the only thing in Mikaela’s world, but they withered to their sides when he received a meager “What are you doing?”An involuntary whimper left his throat. “… I’m—I get it…” He tried again, glancing about the room to all the indifferent faces. “You want to be alone—”“If you are to be my alpha, I have no use for you.”“How can you say that!? Mika, I’m your family, remember!? I’m Yu!” Mikaela made no answer. “This is a joke, right…? See…?” Despite the burning sensation in the back of his eyelids, his caving chest, the strangled sobs he swallowed, he forced the corners of his mouth into a smile. “I’m making a face you like… so stop…”Silence.
“Stop looking at me like I’m nothing!”
To hear Mikaela’s voice raised his hopes and crushed them just as quickly. “Ferid Bathory.”“Ferid…? Ferid!” Yuichiro charged over to him and seized him by the collar. “What’s going on with him!?”He only gave an innocent smile. “You’re kidding… tell me! You know everything about—!” “Escort me to my bath.” Mikaela interrupted flatly. “Yes, my master.” The bath. That had been a special place for them as well. The day Mikaela said he erased all his boredom. Desperation made Yuichiro grab him rougher than he intended. But this, too, saw no effect.
“Let me come with you! I promise I’ll help you!”
Mikaela tilted his head. “What interest is that of mine?” “Because! I’m… You’re not making any sense! Why’re you acting like this!?” Nothing. “Please… you need to help me understand…” The coldness. The indifference. “What did I do… what do I need to do for—” “You can see the queen after your bath.” “The…” Yuichiro gritted his teeth. “The Queen… she did this to you, didn’t she!?” At this, he heard Ferid’s chuckle and, without releasing Mikaela’s shoulders, yelled, “You knew… You were there, weren’t you—!?”Yuichiro found himself against the floor. Mikaela had pushed him away. Blindsided, it hadn’t occurred to Yuichiro how he’d gotten there, his elbows and side against the wooly carpet. But he couldn’t stay ignorant for long. He knew Mikaela’s touch. His mind recycled the same two thoughts: He was gone. He was alone. Though his vision of Mikaela blurred, he distinguished his first step over the threshold and out of the room. “Mika…” He begged, his voice shaking. “…Don’t go.” Flashing him one last smile, Ferid closed the door on Yuichiro. Dread cast his mind into a whirlwind. Questions spiraled into incoherence. He needed to fix it, fix anything, but he was too wound up to commit to any useful action. He hadn’t remembered when he had started running. One minute and he was outside Mikaela’s bedroom, through the grave, and about the estate’s halls. All he knew was he followed the scent of his friend’s blood.And in minutes, he stood before the door of her secret blood cellar. “Mika’s gone!” He shouted the moment he threw open the door. Akane nearly shoved her tea kettle across the room and jumped to her feet. “He’s missing!?” Worse than that. Mikaela was there, but the one he knew…He parted his lips for nothing to come out. The tears he meant to blink away fell down his cheeks, smelling of his own blood.“I couldn’t keep him safe!” panic finally forced out. “I told him I’d save him, and I—” His face in the sudden warmth of Akane’s palms, she brushed his tears away with her thumbs. “Come here…” She said softly. She beckoned him over the threshold and to her sole table. With his hands sheltered in hers, she said, “Talk to me whenever you’re ready…” A moment passed. “… I went to his room!” “Yes?”“And he wasn’t acting like himself… And he didn’t know me! He acted like I never existed!” He continued his story in an incomprehensible sputter, full of ‘and thens’ and ‘Mikas,’ the latter clouding his thoughts and spinning them into more unhelpful drivel. Whether Akane followed, he didn’t know. But still, she nodded.“I said I’d protect him!” “You did… you did everything you could—” “It doesn’t matter! Not when—!”His voice cracked, and soon his tears washed out his image of Akane. “Yu, look at me…”She dabbed the corners of his eyes with her apron ever so delicately. “He’s not gone. He’s in there, somewhere. I’m sure of that—” “You mustn’t, Akane.” At the ledge of the window sat a tall woman of impeccable aristocratic countenance, but beneath her princely looks lay an indistinguishable scent of blood. A white rose twirled between her fingers. “‘If you’re desperate enough, you can believe or deny the reality of anything.’ Isn’t that what you said?” Yuichiro rubbed the remaining blood from the corners of his eyes. “Shinoa…?” She smiled at his brief sniffle. “A crying vampire… what a sight.”His view from her disappeared quickly for the back of Akane’s dress. The scent of ‘the viscount’s’ blood shrouded by another even more familiar. She picked up the closest metal ladle and held it up for defense. “What do you want!?”The tremble in her voice told him everything. With an appreciative squeeze of her hand, he gently motioned Akane to the side. “Shinoa… Mika’s—”“I know. Ferid betrayed me as well.” Akane and Yuichiro exchanged a glance. Shinoa pulled the golden aiguillette of her military uniform and reverted to the small young woman Yuichiro knew her as. Spots of color entered her cheeks. “I should’ve known he’d copy the way I use Mikaela’s human blood. They forced him to awaken into the perfect environment for him to retreat into himself…” Yuichiro raised his head further. “What kind of environment…?” “The cell.” The one you saw in the gallery, she elaborated. As realization dawned upon him, he felt the blood drain from his face.“If he left him there… he could’ve told Mika—”“Your time together was a lie,” Shinoa finished.“You said he copied you,” Akane pointed out, not convinced of Yuichiro’s safety. “What did you want with the prince?” “Ha! Me?” Despite her flippant reaction, Shinoa grew more thoughtful. “… I wanted a god. Nothing more. It’s all my sister desired as well.” She threw a glance in Yuichiro’s direction he knew better to see as pleading.“You remember her now, don’t you? Mahiru Hiragi. She was a bit hard on Mikaela.” “I’m… not sure…” “What do you mean… a ‘god?’” Akane asked, bringing Yuichiro a bit closer.Her only acknowledgment of Akane being a rose dropped in her hands, Shinoa said, “To be honest, I don’t care much for your lover, either. Everything, anything, is his own fault. Had he stopped pretending he was something he isn’t—” “You’re wrong!” Yuichiro snapped. Giving up on that line of thought, she continued, “… Regardless, the bond between you two will never exist so long as Illustrious is around. You may as well give up on him.” No longer could he feel betrayal at Shinoa’s words. No more did he find an ally in her than he did Ferid. Deep down, he, too, acknowledged the existence of the queen as an obstacle insurmountable. Deeper still, however, he refused to give in.“I can’t.” Shinoa stepped away. “So you’ll continue this endless loop of him knowing and forgetting you?” When all she received was an obstinate nod, a genuine frown appeared on Shinoa’s face for the first time. “My sister looked into Mikaela’s soul plenty of times. The Mika you love is tired. He feels he’s too weak—that he’s useless. If he had lived another day, he’d still have failed you. He put himself out of his misery. Who are you to take away that peace?”“…I—!” “Just because he loves you doesn’t mean he wants to meet you.” Her words triggered an odd memory. In Yuichiro’s mind’s eye came a ghost of Mikaela’s old smile. A sad one, in the depths of what he knew to be an underground prison, where fires hung against the walls and illuminated the delicate beauty of his face.
‘I’m not like that. If I lost you, I’d…’
He never understood. Up until the very end.
‘So it’s more important you live instead. As long as you’re safe—’
And he didn’t understand now.“Join me. Awaken him as a god instead. Let him throw away his human persona—”
“Shut up!”
Yuichiro slammed his fists onto the table. He shouted like she was a surrogate for Mikaela’s escapism.
“I’m never leaving Mika’s side! No matter how many times they hurt him! I’m not letting him run away! And I’m not joining anyone who doesn’t care about him!”
“Yu…” He heard Akane say. She tugged at a corner of his sleeve.Shinoa, on the other hand, gave vent to a small sigh. And then, she smiled. “…I see.” She drew near, her elbow resting on Yuichiro’s shoulder. “Ashera.” A hauntingly familiar flame, darker than black, manifested in the palm of her hand. Its crackling flare died as it condensed to the form of a sword. From its complex hilt to its razor-thin tip, it bore a perfect likeness to a rapier. “That’s…!”“My sister’s sword.” Shinoa rested it on the table. “Whoever you fight, this is your only chance of survival. Call out its name whenever you need power.” With that, she walked away. Free, it seemed, to let Yuichiro fall into a trap. “Shinoa!”At Yuichiro’s call, she glanced over her shoulder but said not a word.“Why did you give this to me?” “And what are you planning!?” added Akane. Leaned against the window sill, preparing to fall backward, Shinoa minutely shook her head. “Isn’t it obvious? I’m interested in seeing what happens.” Yuichiro and Akane watched until the last of her brilliant facade disappeared from the window, and a disturbing magnetism pulled their eyes back to the sword. “Well…?” Akane asked, her fingers hovering slightly above the blade.Yuichiro wet his lips and, without hesitation, tested it in his hands. The handle was but a handle he’d held many times, though it was devoid of a sword’s weight. It was cool to the touch. Upon squeezing the hilt, however, a tightness seized his chest. His weak little heartbeat quickened in a manner both odious and euphoric. A subtle sound he could only describe as a voice echoed in his head and disappeared just as fast. As much as he appreciated Akane’s gift, an oasis of silence in which he could contemplate his next move, his fate was, in his eyes, a foregone conclusion.Guren would have told him to think longer and harder about his decision. That such a precious moment deserved more than a few seconds of consideration. But anything longer would be to lie to himself, to waste time working with non-existent uncertainty. One glance at Mahiru’s sword, and he knew what to do.“Maybe… I am being mean trying to bring Mika back…” Yuichiro mumbled. He swung his newfound blade over his shoulder. “And maybe Mika made his choice…”Akane smirked, and in that moment, he was aware he stood before a woman who knew his whole heart. “But…?” Yuichiro mirrored her expression, the tension in his smile ebbing as it grew.A hollow breath came a little easier. “I won’t accept it. Even if it means he’ll hate me.”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Yuichiro Ariadust stood before the throne room’s monumental chamber door, eye to eye with the arbiter of his lover’s suffering. Where the handle lay, the mural comprising the entrance bore a depiction of the queen in winter. Cool to the touch, frigid in color as she settled between pillars of ice, it paled in comparison to the coldness of her laughter floating out from the other side. Ferid’s offhanded offering relayed the truth. No sooner than the time it took for Mikaela to finish his bath had he wandered to her immaculate stairway.
‘Do not forsake me. For as long as I reign over Sanguinem, please stay by my side.’
What a fool the queen was. Did she believe in earnest, after everything he and Mikaela went through, that her systematic destruction of their bond would rid herself of him? The past and present together rendered their connection unbreakable, unable to be contained. “… I promise, Mika,” he mumbled. With a new sword in his scabbard, he thrust open the entrance to the throne room. Nothing had changed since his last visit. It retained its aggressively sought perfection and eerie cleanliness. A chill coiled in his stomach and became acquainted with the mournfulness already present. From above, he found Krul relaxing on a throne not made for two, resulting in Mikaela sitting on the steps. Her fingers ran through the hair on the crown of his head, her smile sickening. Mikaela reacted to it the way he responded to all things—with an apathy suggesting universal consent. His grief-induced escapism bound him too tight to take anything of the world around him to heart. Including Yuichiro. The sheer emptiness in his eyes evoked not a feeling of forsakenness but determination.“Yuichiro Ariadust,” Krul greeted. She rested her palm against her cheek, her red nails almost puncturing her skin. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”He approached the center aisle resolute, shooting daggers with his stare. “Save it. I’m not here for you.” The queen giggled, as if to bestow what little effect his presence had, as if his very standing there encouraged mockery. “Oh? Then what is thy desire?”She leaned forward, turning Mikaela’s head in his direction so that their gazes met. Nothing came from it. Indeed, Krul put his very mental death on display. Refusing to look away, Yuichiro said, “Your son.” When he approached the base of the steps, Krul released Mikaela from her lofty ‘embrace.’“Aye… I knew this day would come. Thou wish to steal him from me—” “No.” He announced her assumption’s failure with such certainty that Krul’s smile disappeared, if only for a second. Upon returning, there lived a particular slant of irritation he’d never seen prior. “I’ve had enough of you forcing him to suffer over and over again,” he continued, “Any happiness he finds you take away, like you’re some sick god over his life!”Yuichiro drew his blade. Krul’s eyes widened, but she soon steeled herself, anchoring herself into her throne as the surrounding atmosphere grew heavy. Her smile turned rotten. “… So thou plan to defeat me?”“Not you,” Yuichiro corrected. He bit his lip to keep from smirking at her and raised the tip of his sword squarely at Mikaela. “I’m putting him out of his misery.” Krul gave pause. Then her lips stretched into what he wasn’t sure was a grimace or a grin until she filled the chamber with an ever gruesome laugh. While it rattled the walls, Yuichiro refused to heel under the weight of her ridicule. He remained silent, with no need to amend what he said. “Ahaha! This is thy plan to protect and save him!?”“Yeah… I’m setting him free.”His eye contact with Mikaela didn’t break once. “Come down, Mika.” A warmth seized him in saying his name, but he didn’t let it show in his face. “I’m going to kill you.”“How ludicrous,” Krul intervened, “Mikaela. Take care of your rival.” Her son said nothing, his frame loose against the arm of the throne. Seconds passed before he rose and leapt onto the tile, his indifference souring Yuichiro to the point of cruelty. The latter readied his blade.
‘Here goes… if he doesn’t kill me immediately…’
With bated breath, he anticipated Mikaela’s first move. Vision after vision of Ky Luc, of losing the side of his face and a fist gripping his heart, dizzied him. The ghost of that pain reverberated in his chest. The bite marks where Mikaela’s teeth had once been only yesterday throbbed. He waited.Continued waiting. Regardless, Mikaela only offered a wandering gaze. To follow his stare led to nothing consequential, not even his reflection in the tile. The pause stretched enough for a germ of doubt to take place within Yuichiro, but he quickly swallowed the thickness in his throat. He wouldn’t cave. If he had to goad his death, so be it. “What!?” He yelled, “Why don’t you come over and fight me!?”Mikaela’s answer took him aback, weakening him with gratitude. “I sense no killing intent in you.” ‘Mentally dead’ as he was, he remained too sharp. As far as Mikaela was concerned, this fight amounted to nothing but empty words, and soon he would go away. Yuichiro smirked, though the corners of his mouth felt tight when he did. “Heh… don’t get the wrong idea. I’m not sure I can even beat you. I’m just scared!” At this, he charged right at him. “People can be terrified and fight anyway! A monster like you wouldn’t know anything about that!”His battle cry diminished by his love, he brought everything he had into his slice driving toward Mikaela’s neck. A countering blade blocked his attack. The power behind this parry almost threw Yuichiro across the room. He dug his heels into the floor and grabbed his handle tighter. So extreme was the blowback that the bones in his wrist cracked. His sword throbbed, followed by an immediate restoration of his hands. ‘I didn’t die…!’ He cheered internally as he stumbled back on his feet. ‘I can…!’A series of countless swings were all intercepted by Mikaela, who hardly moved. Frustrated as he was, Yuichiro expected as much. His fighting style reflected his battle with Crowley Eusford.His blade missed his shoulder. His torso. His hand. Just as he was about to brand Mikaela’s face with a deep cleave, a knee pounded him in the gut. His organs slammed against the back of his thorax, but his brain didn’t have time to register the pain. A fist collided with his cheek with an impact hard enough to twist Yuichiro’s neck once, twice, and sent him flying.
‘That’s right…’
He landed on his feet and cracked his neck back into place.
‘A Latrodectus… is used to fighting with their fists…’
“Are you finished?” Mikaela asked flatly. Yuichiro swallowed the sink full of blood that became his mouth. So long as Ashera was in his hand, his teeth had not shattered, and the side of his face hadn’t been blown off. He ran his thumb with affection against the hilt.
‘But he’s not like Ky Luc… he’s holding back.’
Even with his fearsome power, it was apparent. Mostly because he grew bored, mostly because he knew the level of ability to end the battle.However, a germ of hope told Yuichiro that somewhere, deep down, Mikaela was aware of who he fought against. “I’m not going down that easily!”Yuichiro raced to him once more, missing him again by a mere inch. His speed had doubled. He did not need to concentrate his eyes to see the subtleties of Mikaela’s counters—his little side steps, the shifting of his shoulders. “Why are you doing this?”A snippet of curiosity he thought long dead approached. Mikaela’s question made Yuichiro’s heart race. “I told you!”Mikaela dodged the tip of his blade, aiming straight for his head. “I’m going to kill you!”“Then to converse is useless.” Thus, Mikaela went on the offense, and Ashera saved Yuichiro the moment he did.Yuichiro differed from Mikaela, too sloppy to avoid each plunge of a sword. Blood splattered from every flesh wound from which he barely shoved himself away. His cuts oozed and stained his white uniform before they closed. His chest opened. His ear dripped. It was all perfect.
‘More…! I need to make it look convincing! Don’t heal me too much, Ashera!’
Mikaela’s blade continued to carve into his skin. At times, Yuichiro would lean into a cut himself, his collar or sleeve ripping from his person. “Mikaela,” he heard from above, though he lacked the opportunity to stare at her. “Destroy him already. I am growing bored.”“No way!” yelled Yuichiro. When his wounds sufficed, the time for the ultimate act had come. He ran around Mikaela until he was behind him and leapt into the air. Evoking the style of his teacher, he prepared the Ashera blade for a full swing toward Mikaela’s skull and braced himself for the pain he knew would come. And as he thought, Mikaela caught his arm. Ripped it off with a horrifying crunch of bone and tear of the muscle, faster than Ashera could keep him together. He threw his arm to the side, tossed him forward, and kicked him away in the solar plexus. A single thought entered Yuichiro’s mind. He had succeeded. Krul’s laughter having been the soundtrack to his pain, Yuichiro’s ears rang when he slammed against one of the many pillars in the throne room. To land near an open window, exposing him to the soft light of the sun, made his landing particularly egregious. Mikaela approached him as he expected: without a care and ready to drive his blade right into his heart. For the first time, Yuichiro assessed his damage and how far his wounds had dyed his clothes’ fabric. In a way he found whimsical, Horn Skuld and Chess Belle came to mind, what they would think of their creation. His eyes glimmered daringly at Mikaela. “Looks like… I lost,” he said. “Your goal was in vain. You are too weak to kill me.”Yuichiro chuckled. “That so?”But it didn’t stop the tightness in his chest, swollen with the knowledge he couldn’t go back.How he never wanted Mikaela to see this again.
‘Sorry, Mika…’
Nevertheless, it was too late. His sword thrust deep into Yuichiro, scraped against his heart, and found its way through his back. At last, the opportunity arose. ‘Dying’ by Mikaela’s own hands. His body helped weave the tale: His ripped collar, exposing the bite marks his lover left, how he bore the scent of Mikaela’s blood, the wounds refusing to heal, and the bloodstains on both their clothes. With this, he’d recreate the most significant loss in his life. He closed his eyes and bit his tongue for good measure, letting the blood fall from his mouth.As he lay silent, the sword perfectly slid between his ribs, the chance that he would fail, that Mikaela wouldn’t recognize what he’d done, never entered his mind.From the moment he received his blade, he knew an act as hideous as Krul’s was the key to bring Mikaela back. “Mikaela, the battle is no more,” said Krul, “Let him meet his end.”“…”Despite this command, the world remained still. The movement of a single soul didn’t grace Yuichiro’s ears.“Mikaela? Art thou listening?”Silence. Before the anticipation crushed him, and he dared to open his eyes, a mysterious droplet fell upon Yuichiro’s face. Then another.Then yet another made the tiniest splash on his cheek. They smelled of Mikaela’s blood. Yuichiro permitted himself a peek at last, and there Mikaela loomed above him. His face lacked any expression. No nuance lived in his features. The only phenomenon inditing his mental state was the bloody tears dripping from his eyes. But they weren’t the crimson to which he was accustomed. They were an iridescent gold; his sclera a harrowing black.“Mikaela!”Her call went unanswered. “Mika…?”As did his. Mikaela fell to his knees. As though Yuichiro shriveled at the slightest touch, his fingers brushed where his arm was missing. A sharp sensation slipped out of Yuichiro’s chest as Mikaela yanked out his blade. And without a word, he brought Yuichiro into his arms as gently as if he were an infant.Minutes passed, during which Mikaela’s frame trembled as he sat in the difficulty of processing emotions so elusive yet so close. Not until Yuichiro used his good arm to find the small of his back did his face color with something not unlike confusion. Mikaela undoubtedly consumed the scent of himself, the mark on Yuichiro’s neck indisputably his own, the blood on his hands. At long last, a single word, engorged with more pain than Yuichiro ever heard it, fell from his lips. “Y-Yu…?”Yuichiro’s own curved into a tender smile. “Welcome b-back—”
“No!”
Krul’s voice boomed through the chamber when she jumped from her throne. Slow yet urgent, she approached her son. “That vampire is a stranger to thee!” Mikaela gave vent to a shaky breath and brought the ‘stranger’ closer to his chest. Glimmers of recognition dawned on his face, little by little, and his eyes widened in horror.“Leave him be!”The queen’s discouragement was all for naught. “He is nothing to you!”For Mikaela knew who he held in his arms. “You’re wrong…”He whispered this response with such gentleness that even Yuichiro struggled to pick up on it. “… Excuse me?”
“You’re a liar!”
The room quaked upon Mikaela’s scream. With no discernible source, like a breeze about the graveyard, a wind slowly rose. Against his chest, Yuichiro only caught a glimpse of Krul, but the slightest tremble wracked her tiny frame.
“Thou art confused! I—”

“Yu wasn’t dead! I hadn’t imagined it!”
Vampire Yuichiro Ariadust could have died by his blade, and the depths of Mikaela’s psyche, the part of him casting his eternal slumber, couldn’t ignore that.
“It wasn’t a delusion!”
The wind propelled into violent gusts. Its roar swallowed the thunder of the lone chandelier’s collapse, its crystals shattering into shooting stars across the floor.
Feathers of iridescent gold, knowing nothing of the storm, floated past the corner of Yuichiro’s eye.
“He… He came back to me! Because I…!”
The tighter Mikaela’s embrace, the faster his wounds closed.
“And I’ll never… let you touch him again!”
A final shout of her progeny’s name was the last Yuichiro ever saw of Krul Illustrious.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

January 5th, 1868
Two months had passed by.Upon the disappearance of Queen Krul ‘Teritus Sator’ Illustrious, the progenitor council immediately swept up the pieces of an empty reign. The chaos, perhaps even anarchy, among vampires Ferid Bathory so desperately wanted to ensue would never take place so long as Urd ‘Secundus Sator’ Gaeles and his companion Lest ‘Teritus Sator’ Karr were in control. It took less than three days for them to spin a tale to human and vampirekind alike, speaking of ‘stepping down from her position’ and a new era to come by part of the Illustrious family.So wrote Crowley Eusford.The Illustrious estate’s rear garden wasn’t anything like Ferid Bathory had left it. Hydrangea, larkspur, and finely trimmed bushes that had shaped Krul Illustrious’s silhouette had all but disappeared into a random assortment. The carnations stretching to the neighboring complex didn’t comprise her palms. The fountain, also sporting her form, had transformed into a regular three-tiered array, no longer bubbling from her open hands. A statue from afar, which once adorned the queen and prince respectively, now held up no one, leaving bare the beautiful, statuesque walls.Ferid licked his lips.No, not a single landscaper had come to replace her visage. The day he escaped from the Illustrious estate, the paintings that had once littered the walls had also disappeared. The murals bore glass without the queen and prince.As he continued his walk about the garden, upon a little bridge stood a woman, a picture book’s living inspiration. She was donned in a princely attire he knew well, playing with locks that resembled spun gold and looking out into an arbor with eyes as blue as the sea.“If it isn’t my former partner,” he greeted, joining her. “I see you haven’t retired your old disguise.”Shinoa snorted, resting her arms on the rail of the bridge.“What can I say? I like to be tall.”She pushed a bit of the frost with her elbows, and she inhaled the chilly air Ferid could only feel as a dull, peculiar ache against his skin.“And what about you? Lurking about the estate for no reason. Do you miss your servant facade?”“Whatever for?” He laughed, “I adore my newfound freedom! Prowling for humans, running my library, why I’ve carved my own little section out of the kingdom!”“Rich of houses of ill repute, no doubt.”“Ahaha! You know me quite well!”Shinoa looked up toward the evening sky, full of the wreaths of smoke from the human and vampire estate’s chimneys.“… As for me, it’s weird to be without a master. My sister whispered to me every night about her goals, and I followed her with no hesitation… ever since I was small.”Ferid could picture it with ease, the beautiful face of Mahiru Hiragi—how repulsively sweet her smile must have been as she led her descendant on the path of her revenge.“And now?”“I’ve barely heard from her since we lost.”“Lost? It’s unlike you to be so frank.”Shinoa gestured toward where a Krul bust once stood in the garden. “There’s no reason to hide anymore. The queen couldn’t keep her Illustrious offspring, and I never got the god I wanted.”“You’re sulking. We can always try again. Surely Mahiru has some plan.”As soon as the anticipation swelled within Ferid’s breast, it deflated with Shinoa’s meager answer of “No.”“She… I was wrong about Mikaela.” She continued, shaking her head.“I thought ‘Mikaela’ was nothing but a character, a role to play that he could quit anytime. But that Yuichiro… he really shaped his heart. Mikaela awakened the most he ever has, and all he could think about was him, correct?”His keen vampire ears discerned it all. In the ‘safety’ marble hall, Mikaela’s shouts sent an inhuman chill up his spine, one he’d yet to experience in centuries. All the vampires in the estate heard it. He consumed their speculations like candy and gave no answers as to why he strode out the estate.“Yes.”“Then it’s settled. There’s no ‘original self’ to which he can return.”Ferid raised his head. “Is that an official resignation to join me and my projects?”“Not a chance. I’m glad I don’t have to be allied with you anymore.”“Hey now! That’s the first time you called me your ally!” He cried the moment she began to walk off.She waved him away dismissively, manifesting a white rose and tossing it over her shoulder. “Consider it your parting gift. Besides, with the queen’s disappearance, things still have the potential to be interesting around here.”“I’m looking forward to Crowley’s testimonies. He’s my fill-in and confidant, you know.”That was enough to get Shinoa to face him again.“You ought to visit him for yourself. Tell your master hello.”“Surely you jest!”Ferid focused his vision on his beloved ‘master’ resting upon one of the rear balconies, a ‘master’ with memory after memory of his cruelties restored.“There’s a pretty wrathful god lurking about.”“Now remember, I’ll be right here giving you moral support! Just behind this pillar!” Akane assured, her dainty hands massaging Yuichiro’s shoulders.The two stood near the banister of the grand foyer, the trot of three chilled horses approaching all the more in the latter’s ear. The grandiosity of the estate had taken on a unique role in his life so quickly. What once was a looming, insurmountable obstacle to the happiness of Mikaela was now an ostentatious display for him to share.“Uh-huh,” He swallowed.“He’ll come in, you’ll act out tomorrow’s festivities, and then he’ll go right back home, Your Royal Highness!”Yuichiro removed her hands. “Do you have to call me that?”“Call you what, Your Royal Highness?”“Cut it out, Akane! That’s embarrassing!”“But I can’t stop! It’s just—”She squealed and jumped into his arms.
“You did it! You’re a prince!”
“Prince-consort!”“Consort-Smonsort! You still get a super special ceremony tomorrow!” She countered, jumping from the comfort of his arms to the floor. “And after that…”“Yeah?”So excited was Akane that she clasped her hands as if thanking a god. “We can do whatever we want! Fancy parties, hanging out at my official-prince-supported blood cellar, meetings with the Hiragi family—it’ll be great!”When she didn’t receive an energy matching her own, she rested her hand on Yuichiro’s shoulder.“So no nervousness, okay?”“I-I’m not nervous!”A knock on the entrance, and Yuichiro and Akane were startled into each other’s arms at once.“Is that him!?” They cried in unison, inciting a quick “Neither am I!” from Akane.“Must be!”After exchanging a determined nod, Yuichiro descended the marble steps and threw open the door.Standing before him, flurries of snow dusting his uniform and with an expression equally cold as they, was Urd ‘Secundus Sator’ Geales.He channeled his inner Mikaela Illustrious, and with the closest proximity to propriety his lack of formal upbringing would allow, Yuichiro greeted, “Welcome to the Illustrious estate.”And got not a word in return.“Uh…” He tried again. “Thanks for coming—”“Yuichiro ‘Tertius Decimus Sator’ Illustrious.”Yuichiro winced for only a moment, then recovered the smile on his face.
‘Ack! That’s worse than Mika’s!’
“Yes, about that.” He cleared his throat. “I think I should keep my old name. And Mika should get a new one! His sire was—”“By order of the progenitor council, until there is an unlikely recovery of Krul’s appearance, you and Mikaela will stand as prince and prince-consort of the Illustrious family.”A pained nod followed. “I understand, but—”At this, Urd fished a small box out of his pocket. He opened it up to reveal two splendorous rings of gold, each etched with the Illustrious insignia and Mikaela and Yuichiro’s respective names.“Woah…”He turned back to Akane, whose cheeks were rather rosy as she mouthed, “Are those wedding rings!?”Face equally red from her inquiry, Yuichiro shrugged.“Now,” said Urd, closing the box, “Fetch Mikaela for the rehearsal.”“Of course! But first—”Urd loomed closer. “There is nothing left for us to discuss. Two souls inhabited the throne, and two souls it will remain.”“I get that! Really! It’s just… I’m an Ariadust! And Mika’s…”“You bear Illustrious blood,” Urd stated flatly.Yuichiro fought the urge to roll his eyes. “T-Technically—”“Then the decision is no longer yours.”“I don’t think you understand. I don’t want Mika to—”Devoid of patience, Urd grabbed the lapels of Yuichiro’s uniform and pulled him face-to-face. “It is you who does not understand.”“Urk!”“I read your letter. I was well aware of Mikaela’s… abilities prior. It was through Ferid Bathory’s negligence over him that you spawned into existence, and it is through your recklessness that he created the biggest power vacuum the likes of which vampirekind has ever seen.”“Power vacuum, you say…”In truth, Yuichiro couldn’t argue. Nowhere did he anticipate the political implications of Krul’s disappearance until Crowley forced him to write a letter to the council disclosing everything that had taken place in the throne room.All that mattered was Mikaela’s imminent freedom, and not a day afterward was planned.“This coronation will serve as a peaceful transfer of power from one Illustrious to the next, as to keep stability over the vampire reign. And it is your responsibility to see it through.”“But Mika—!”“So you will take these rings, accept your position as prince-consort, and gather Illustrious so that our rehearsal may begin. Do I make myself clear?”Not until Yuichiro took the box and let out a pathetic “okay…” was he released.Having been dropped on the pristine floor, Yuichiro jumped to his feet and hurried up the stairs.Akane hugged his forearm, escaping with him to a hall of the leftwing so that he may ‘gather’ Mikaela.“See? That wasn’t too bad, right?”“Ahaha…” was all Yuichiro could muster.“Look on the bright side, Your Royal Highness!” She took the box from his hand and raised it to the burning lights. “You and Mika have wedding rings!”“Ha! Is that what these are?”In return, he received a smile big and sweet, long-lasting, prompting him to break their silence.“What?”Akane tilted her head. “You okay?”“W-Why wouldn’t I be?”“I’ve seen that face,” she noted, returning the rings to the palm of his hand, “And I know how much being an Ariadust meant to you. How do you feel now that it’s official, Prince-consort Illustrious?”Yuichiro stopped by his reflection in an opulent mirror.Guren would have asked that as well, probably would’ve expected him to cry and whine about the extent to which he wanted to be the heir of the Ariadust family.But he wouldn’t have ridiculed him for it.With the safety of the estate’s missing matriarch, the first thing he would do as a prince would be to write a summons to him.“… Well, I’m not thrilled,” He concluded, “But it’s all right.”“Is it?”Yuichiro gave it some thought once more and, as if checking in on himself, said slowly, “… Yeah. I still don’t enjoy having the name Illustrious, but Mika’s free of his old family now. It’s different. And if I can have the genuine power to protect my own with this title, then I’m looking forward to it.”Akane gave his hands an affectionate little squeeze. “And I’m looking forward to dinner with the princes! Oh, I can’t wait to tell the girls!”“H-Hold on a sec! Wouldn’t that be scary? You’re still a human! And Mika’s—”“Ah! I didn’t tell you?”With an unabashed smirk, Akane raised herself on her toes and whispered in his ear.“I delivered a snack to Prince Illustrious just this morning! And guess what happened!? Now there are two vampires that aren’t scary to me!”The return of his lover from the clutches of his curse added a special tenderness to Yuichiro’s smile.“You’re kidding. I wonder what changed?” He asked softly.Akane gave an innocent twirl of her locks. “Who knows? Maybe it’s the power of love!”To watch her hum dreamily and sway about made happiness unfold in Yuichiro like a flower.“… What am I going to do without you?”Akane paused then, giving him her biggest grin, squeezed the tip of his elongated ear.“You say that as if you’ll outlive me! I’ll haunt you as a ghost, remember? Humans have souls, but you wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”“Hey! I was human once too!”Akane scoffed. “When? A thousand years ago?”“I turned this year!”“This year? Wow! That explains how un-vampire-like you are!”Yuichiro ruffled her hair, as it inclined Guren to do when feeling playful.“… Keep me un-vampire-like when I’m prince, okay?”“Got it!” Akane guaranteed with a salute.They departed from each other, no doubt with Akane getting ready to tell the other maids about her encounters with ‘His Royal Highness,’ and with Yuichiro following the scent of Mikaela’s blood.Its scent was nothing he could describe in terms of flavor, but in terms of sensations, it evoked in him a sense of nostalgia, of newfound hope.He found him not in his bedroom but on a balcony facing the rear garden. Snowfall had begun again, decorating his ethereal uniform and golden locks with sparkling specks of light.“Mika?”Crowley stood motionless by his side, enjoying the view of the thick-laying snow until Yuichiro’s call.“Yuichiro Illustrious!” He said with a bow, “It’s good to see you—”“Crowley Eusford…”Mikaela gave an utterance of his servant’s name before Yuichiro protested the sudden formalities.Discerning his desire to be alone at once, Crowley excused himself with a “Yes, Your Royal Highness.”It appeared he spotted someone below in the garden, for he jumped off the balcony instead of returning to the warmth of the estate.“I just finished speaking with Urd!” Yuichiro announced, taking a step into the snow. “He said—”“I know. I heard you.”“Oh yeah…”Rubbing the back of his neck, Yuichiro joined Mikaela in leaning against the top rail. A closer inspection of his companion’s elegant face revealed how deep in contemplation he was.“Yu…” He continued to look out toward the garden. “Is this really okay?”Quick to jump to reassurances, Yuichiro attested, “Sure! We have the progenitor council by our side! And my family is safe to visit whenever they want! And you’ve been exposed to all the—”“That’s not what I’m talking about.”Yuichiro sighed.“Come on, Mika, we’ve already had this conversation!”“I’m serious, Yu. I’ve lived for over 500 years. You and I… we’ll stay like this. Forever. We don’t have the luxury of running away. Are you prepared for that?”Mikaela’s warning of vampirism held a different impression in the midst of his golden eyes. Though his sclera returned to its usual white, his irises had never recovered to the crimson he once witnessed. He swore he didn’t have a clue where Krul was or why she disappeared, but there was more he could do, more he could change in their world.But before he was a god of any sort, he was Mikaela first.Yuichiro would always choose Mikaela first.“… Isn’t it a little too late to ask?”Mikaela made no answer, so Yuichiro drew nearer and snuggled his cheek against the softness of Mikaela’s own.“Mika, I’m okay! Sure, being a vampire wasn’t my choice, but I am one because you saved my life!”He slowly entwined their fingers, marveling at the perfect fit of their hands, how much they belonged together.“And as long as you’re with me, I’m not scared of anything.”When Mikaela spoke at last, it was to vent a vulnerability darling enough for Yuichiro to answer with glee and without hesitation.“… And you won’t be miserable?”“I already was.”“You won’t leave me?”“Where would I go?”“You won’t grow to hate me?”“I already did!”The implications of his statement hitting him like bricks, Yuichiro jumped from their position and cried, “I-I mean! Before I even knew who you were! A-And I wasn’t turned! I was terrified of vampires! Cause there was this picture and—”But the beauty of Mikaela’s laughter soon quelled his worries.“After everything I did to avoid being a person… I’ve heard your stories, but I still don’t understand how you came to like me.”“Well…” Yuichiro brushed some flurries off of Mikaela’s shoulder. “I was scared of ‘Prince Illustrious’ at first. But then I got to know him. And I realized he wasn’t cold and aloof on purpose. It’s that no one took the time to converse with him. Even when I said some pretty mean things to him, all he did was keep me safe. So little by little, I wanted to be with him more. And we became really close.”“Prince Illustrious…” Mikaela echoed, and his gaze drew to the floor.“Hm?”His eyes bore into Yuichiro’s own when he asked, “Do you ever miss him…? That old me…?”With a chuckle overflowing with admiration, he held Mikaela’s face.“What’re you talking about? I’m speaking to him right now.”Just as he tilted his chin, positioning his lips above his—“Wah!”Arcanu dove right between them, hovering before Mikaela until it got consent to rest upon his shoulder.“There you are,” He cooed, scratching its ears with his index finger.The preciousness of Mikaela’s nurturing smile a muse for all his thoughts, Yuichiro broke in, “Mika… I want to renew a promise we made.”That rewarded Mikaela’s eye contact.“What is it?”“Do you remember when I made us promise that we would fight to stick together?”“Yes.”“I failed you back then.”As though a dreadful memory flashed through his mind and elicited a dreary chill, Mikaela took hold of Yuichiro’s sleeve.“That wasn’t your fault, Yu,” He whispered. “I—”“No! You did everything you could! But still, I need you to know that things will be different than before! And not just because Krul is gone! I really can fight. I can stay by your side.”Mikaela didn’t venture to protest with any worry of his own, but his expression prompted Yuichiro to continue.“I’m the one who forced you to live again. And I get being an Illustrious isn’t what you wanted for us, but I never want you to regret coming back.”From Yuichiro’s pocket came the tiny box Urd gave him, and he slipped Mikaela’s ring out of its velvet cushioning.“Whatever you need to be happy like this, I’ll make it happen. I swear.”He released Mikaela’s grasp from his sleeve, removed his glove, and placed yet another band of gold on his decorated hand.Mikaela gazed at his fingers in silence before a smile blossomed upon his face.“You’ve got it all wrong, Yu.”“Huh…?”They dropped their heads like lambs and gave reign to the gentleness of each other’s foreheads.“If we’re together, I’ll never regret waking up.”“Mika…”As he wrapped his arms around Yuichiro’s neck, the distance between their mouths diminished.“Don’t worry about some old promise… I’ll do whatever it takes to protect us.”“Idiot… don’t put that burden solely on yourself. I’m right here…”By welcoming each other’s lips, Yuichiro and Mikaela made a heart-to-heart vow to fight for one another, indulged in eternal reconciliation, and bid the world to do its worst.