Bright radiant flashes of light shone through the window sills and met Takumi's purple eyes as he entered the kitchen with a drowsy yawn. The teen lifted his hand to his face, blocking the sunlight, and checked the static baby-blue floating numbers that hovered around in the kitchen for the time.

“7:15.” Seeing the time, Takumi adjusted his purple long sleeve to make sure he could see the black stars on his upper forearm. Both black stars had the letter T at the center.

He then dug a small plastic bag out of his right pocket. One of his maids, Minaka, walked in and set a series of plates near the kitchen sink, asking, “You aren’t going formally?”

“Nah, I have other plans,” Takumi replied, after which he tore the plastic bag with one of his fangs and shook the bag until the pin fell on the center of his palm.

The pin resembled a pink basking shark with water splashing out around it and had the school’s name in the front, along with Takumi’s unique student code. The code consisted of two numbers. “What’s with this color?” Takumi growled.

“At least they got the number right.” A month prior to the first day of school, Takumi had requested that his numbers be “01”, so it’d remind him of his first day of high school for the rest of his life and all the events that’d followed.

He adjusted his pin on the upper left side of his chest and showed it off to Minaka, who giggled, pointing out, “It looks so silly on you… but that may just be the color, master.”

He squinted, arching an eyebrow and pretended to not know

what the purple-haired maid was talking about. Takumi pressed his palm against a pad beside the kitchen door. The pad served as a knob. An individual would press their hand on it causing the door to slide open, releasing a small blast of cool refreshing air as the individual passed through in the summertime or a warm blast of refreshing air if it was the winter time. “Extra swanky,” as

Minaka often put it, although this description made Takumi sigh from the cheesiness. “2108, huh? Last year sure went by fast,” she mumbled.

Takumi felt refreshed, as everything had been going smoothly so far that morning. Takumi had done his early morning exercises in his weight room, took a cold shower in his bath house, fixed himself breakfast without the help of his maids (despite their insistence every morning), and was now heading out to his best friend Yoshigawa’s place.

Yoshigawa’s place was right in front of Takumi’s. Their homes were surrounded by mountains in the back and their backyards were practically vast open fields of private land that various clans lived at. Hundreds of live fluffy cattle roamed around, trimming the acres of lush grass, and also provided the mansions with a protective barrier, thanks to the special Retsu they gave off.

Takumi walked down the long hallway and passed by a mirror, catching sight of an old photo frame that consisted of nine individuals. He stopped in his tracks and walked backwards a bit into the mirror frame. A set of clothes moved around the reflection, as he pulled the picture frame out and began to recall memories of his family. To himself, he wasn’t invisible, but to an ordinary human gazing at the mirror, he would be unless he used retsu to make himself appear. That’s typically how Setsus operated and were able to live among humans so easily.

There had only ever been a case of a vampire being uncovered when a foolish one walked through a store and got caught on camera. The vampire had forgotten to use retsu while he wandered around in the store, getting caught invisible in the frozen yogurt aisle. The Tensei Order had to get on the case, and over the course of a few years wiped away the video evidence so that no one would recall it, and fabricated a story that they had the media promote in articles.

Moments like these reminded him of how silent his home is compared to his earlier childhood days. “Hmph… time flies, doesn’t it gramps? The year is here.” Takumi lifted the picture frame up and brushed his thumb across the glass. He caressed the glass, covering the face of the oldest individual in the photo briefly.

His gaze then shifted from the oldest fellow in the photo over to his father. His memories returned to when he was six.

Takumi entered his father’s office with a bright smile, as it was rare for his father to be home. Having found out he was around, the boy wanted a chance to play with him. Takumi asked his father enthusiastically, “Dad! You’re back! Can we go play basketball!?”

Setting a silver cup that he had been polishing on his desk, his father turned around and silently signaled for Takumi to approach. The boy did so with twinkles in his eyes. He held out his basketball only for his father to snatch the basketball out of the boy’s hands aggressively. The look his father showed him let the boy know that he didn’t have positive intentions for the ball. The boy’s smile faded, and he attempted to tug at his father’s shirt.

“Give me the ball back please! FATHER, DON’T THROW IT AWAY!! THAT’S AN OLD GIFT FROM GRAMPS!” Takumi shouted. The boy hopped up in an attempt to get the basketball, only for his father to shove him away violently. “Enough! It’s a slave’s game, boy!” his father stated in an angered tone. Takumi tripped over his small feet and fell onto his bum. The boy caught himself by setting his hands behind his back and looked up, meeting his father's angered eyes.

Takumi sniffled, confused at what his father told him. “But gramps said…”

“But nothing,” his father interjected. “You will not buy into that geezer's beliefs, do you understand? You are a Rikuto, who has more important tasks to complete than play some useless game, a game used to distract the weak-minded from what’s truly going on around them. Now go, master Kunji will be here to begin your training, boy.”

“Useless game?” Takumi repeated in disbelief at what his father told him.

The very basketball that his grandfather had taught him about was slandered by his father. “Give me back my ball,” the boy demanded in a threatening tone. Curved irises formed in the boy’s eyes as a sign of power close to being used, glowing until the boy noticed something that scared him. The curve of his father’s face, told him everything he had to know. Takumi’s sights went to the ball, being compressed in his father’s hand.

Seeing as Takumi hadn’t budged and only glared at him with fierce eyes, Takeshi dug his claws into the ball until it popped, and flung the remaining basketball strips straight into a trash bin beside his desk.

Takeshi’s voice echoed in the boy’s mind. “Defy me again, I dare you”

His father’s menacing voice vibrated right through the boy’s small body. Takumi remained silent.

“Good. And remember this. Give up on that false belief. Your life has been predestined from the moment you were born.”

“Now get out of my sight.”

To Takumi, it was as if his father popped the very foundations of his being. The tears the boy had been holding back, all came down at once, oozing profusely. Unable to contain himself, the boy yelled in retaliation, clenching his eyes tightly “NOOO!!! I WON’T BE YOUR PUPPET!!! I HATE YOU!” The boy turned away and ran out of his father's office just wanting to escape with no destination in mind.

“IT’S NOT USELESS OR A SLAVE’S GAME! I’LL PROVE YOU WRONG! YOU’LL SEE!” He swore as he ran and nearly tripped on his feet. He didn’t care, he just kept running without looking back.

Hearing a tree branch scratching against the third floor window he was in front of, Takumi snapped out of his daydream. Takumi set the picture frame down and looked past his shoulder over to the open window. A breeze blew in, shaking his bangs back and forth as clouds slowly drifted by. It was the start of April.

“Alright… Hirazawa’s basketball ceremony is finally today, I can do it now.”

“The first step to proving that bastard wrong…” Takumi paused and fell into thought for a moment.

“I survived through eight years of hell for this…” Visions of himself sitting on top of a tree with bodies hanging around crossed his mind.

“I won’t waste this chance, Grandfather… but what’d you mean by basketball being a solution. That’s hard to believe from what I’ve seen. And father told me it’s used as a ‘tool to distract the general public while they get used by the parasites.’ Do people do it just for money, fame, and everything that comes along with it? Or something more? There’s no way I’ve come to appreciate this sport only for it to be an instrument of the corrupt…”

“And the Setsus in the upper ranks… I’ll have to be aware of them while I make my move.”

Takumi dug his hands into his black jersey pants as he approached the window. A purple blob scooped across the sky, briefly catching his attention, but he decided he was only imagining things. Staring at a clear lime-blue sky just added to the relaxing atmosphere he found himself in, but he couldn’t help feeling that something was amiss.

“With those two overseas tending to that outbreak business, I should have an enjoyable school year, but… something’s off.”

Right at that moment, Takumi’s phone started vibrating in his pocket. He slid his hand in and answered the phone. On the line, it was none other than Yoshigawa. “Ay Tai, you leaving already wro?”

“Nah, not yet Shima. I’m on my way downstairs to change my shoes,” Takumi answered back.

“Great, I’ll be over in a sec.”

Takumi was just about to hang up when Yoshigawa asked, “Oh yeah, what could Shinji want with us? I got his message; he sounds desperate to see us. You know something I don’t?”

“He wanted a favor…” Takumi thought back to when he had read Shinji’s message the previous night.

“A favor, huh? Let me guess, he wants you to do Setsu wo-” Takumi hung up before Yoshi could finish. He stuffed his phone back into his pocket, displeased, only for Yoshigawa to call a second later.

Takumi was tempted to not pick it up but wound up answering anyway. “Shima…”

“Dude, chill out! I was only guessing. You know it’s been a while since he last hung out with us. Kinda makes me wonder what he wants out of the blue. Maybe he has some hot babes he wants to introduce to us! Good thing Sanosuke’s not around…”

“More for us!” Yoshigawa said extra loudly, glancing over his shoulder.

Takumi pulled back the phone as the call shifted to a video call, Yoshigawa noticed Takumi gawking down at the end call button. He waved for Takumi not to press the end call button yet.

“Okay, okay! All jokes aside, seriously think about it. You know how grimy that is? If he’s contacting us after months of not even saying hi… there has to be a catch. Maybe it’s related to-”

“Don’t…” Takumi grumbled in annoyance.

“If it is, are we going to help him? If it gives me a chance to escape Kara and Zumepaki’s watch, I’ll take it. That’ll give me a ch-” Yoshi reached out for his bag.

“He's all over the place today,” Takumi thought before responding.

“Well I’m not. The ol’ man wanted me to go with him to Egypt, but I refused, using the excuse that school is starting up.” Takumi turned back, sitting down on the window frame and continued.

“I will not entangle myself in any of that supernatural trash. From here on out, I’m leading an ordinary high school life where I study and ball until college, then make it on a team in the World Basketball Association. You know the plan Shima, you’re in the same boat.”

“Sorta, but that doesn’t answer my question dude… and you know your ol’ man won’t give up on having you handle your Rikuto duties. I get mine over with, saves the hassle.” Yoshi pat the back of his head, stuffing his bag with a jersey.

Glancing down to his watch, Takumi noted that they had to cut the chat short. “In any case, we’ll find out what Shinji wants when we get there. As for the ol' geezer, he’s not getting his way. Talk to you in a few.” Takumi hung up with a sigh and turned away, having spotted the recently hired gardener just outside the garden, sprinkling questionable liquid over a batch of purple dandelions.

This gardener had a particularly strange cat suit on, which has never been part of the dress code. “Why?” Takumi thought, but quickly realized he didn’t have time to get an answer. “I’ll figure this guy out some other time,” he told himself, picking up pace.

Takumi walked down the flight of steps, as thoughts of his father crossed his mind again. “That’s nothing but a slave’s game, boy. You have more important objectives.” The words his father used still pissed him off. With his leather bag over his shoulder, Takumi stepped off the final step and heard the doorbell ring. He looked down at his watch and assumed Yoshigawa had rushed outside of the main mansion the entire time.

“Yeah, Shima? Hang on,” Takumi called out while walking into the first floor living room. He had to find his shoes before stepping out. The spacious living room had a long dining table and a large glass table at the center of the room with hovering couches perfectly angled around the empty glass table. Over by the windows, a maid stood on a floating platform while cleaning the glass of a gigantic alarm clock.

The maid briefly paused to tap on the glass window, making the glass window shift to black, preventing visibility from the outside. Once she was certain there wasn’t anyone roaming the lawn, she returned to what she was doing. Takumi knelt over to see if his shoes were below the floating couches, but they weren’t there either.

Takumi stood up and slid his hands back into his pockets. “Mira, have you seen my sneakers?” The maid took a bit to answer, as she struggled to reach higher up the see-through glass. The maid exhaled and paused. “If I remember correctly, they're near the front door.”

“Thanks,” Takumi said as he turned to exit the living room when a golden envelope caught his sight. “Mira… this letter?” he asked the maid who jumped off of the stool while making sure her skirt didn't rise over her knees. “It’s yours,” the maid informed him. Takumi walked over to the table. He picked it up and flicked it open as he exited the living room.

Out of nowhere, a maid pounced on him from behind, as he adjusted his sneakers, causing him to nearly fall over. She hurriedly unpinned the schoolpin he had on his chest. “What the hell are you doing?” Takumi questioned, as she adjusted a new pin on him. This one was of Hirazawa, the white liger. “You know… the liger is for boys and the fish is for girls. We got the two they sent mixed up,” she told him. Takumi raised a brow, but shrugged it off. “Jump onto me like that again and you’ll be jumping into a casket next…” he warned as she dashed off, apologizing in sheer terror.

Takumi made his way to the door, since the bell was continuously ringing. “Yeah yeah, I’m comin’ Shima. Don’t break the bell, we just got it fixed.” Takumi pressed his palm against the pad scanner beside the door. The door slid to the side while he read the letter. “We’re driving in my car to…” Takumi paused.

His eyes scanned the paper word for word as a sweat drop rolled down his forehead. He squinted his eyes just a bit rather agitated. “There’s no way…” What he was reading became unfathomable. “This must be some sort of sick joke.”

The letter crumpled a bit as he looked down to who was before him, then back to the paper in his hand. The letter was from his parents, and they informed him that he is to be married to a girl and that they’d now be living at the estate together for some time. The letter added that they’d be going to the same school for the next four years, and that Takumi would have to help his older sister with the Rikuto responsibilities if he didn’t want to be homeschooled. That was the condition his parents set for “not meddling” in his high school life.

Takumi mumbled under his breath. “This is meddling…” Takumi's arm dropped lifelessly to his side. When the girl attempted to greet Takumi, the teen raised his head and darted a stern glare at the girl. His butler didn’t escape the glare either.

Alto, a 5’4 short and muscular Italian Setsu, Takumi’s personal butler and watchdog, stood beside this girl. Takumi watched the ends of Alto’s thick blonde mustache twitch several times over his upper lip. Alto’s green eyes were barely visible between the slits of his eyelids momentarily. Takumi checked him from head to toe, until Alto’s yellow uniform made him feel nauseous. It matched his long pigtail that waved at the center of his head as if it were a terrified cat.

He turned back to the girl, who had short crimson hair that reached her shoulders and large oak doll-like eyes that complemented her pale skin. Takumi took in her dress, an indication of the Rikuto house she came from. It was white, with different red floral designs. “A Hasegawa…” Takumi growled. He noticed her skirt reached her knees, as he subconsciously assessed how short she was compared to him while her sun hat waved about.

“Hi… um… my name is Hanami Hasegawa. Are you Takumi… er, Hachi?” Her smile steadily shifted into a forced one. The girl bowed for about eight seconds, low enough for her sun hat to fall off of her head, but leaned back up, since she didn’t hear him say anything, and quickly put it back on.

Hanami awkwardly waved her hand up in front of Takumi’s face as he stood there like a statue. Three maids stepped out to take the girl’s luggage. Men were suddenly entering and exiting the home loading boxes into the living room.

“‘Scuse me! Coming through!” People squeezed by Takumi with boxes on their shoulders.

“Young master, is something the matter? Are you okay?” Alto approached and asked, concerned at the teen’s silence. He could tell something unpleasant was coming, as his blonde mustache wiggled around. Takumi was completely distraught, his eyes silently staring off into the distance.

Hanami tightly clenched her bag in one hand as the awkward silence continued, with the only sound coming from the men chattering whilst bringing in boxes they unloaded from a gigantic red hovering truck that backed up along the mansion’s sidewalk.

“Tch.”