The moment Akito mentioned the word vampires, the world seemed to tilt beneath me. I stared at him, my mind reeling as I tried to process what he’d just said. Surely, I’d misheard him. Vampires don't exist. They aren't even real. They were just creatures from horror movies, novels, myths—an ancient superstition, nothing more.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, managing a half-ugh. “Did you say vampires?”

  Akito didn’t blink. “Yes, Kazuki. Vampires. Our family carries a legacy that stretches back for centuries, a legacy that exists outside the human realm of understanding.”

  I forced myself to ugh, the sound awkward and forced. “Look, Kurohana-san, I think you have the wrong guy if you’re trying to convince someone of this… vampire story. I mean, vampires don’t exist. They’re… well, they’re fiction.”

  Tsukiko’s expression remained calm as her father gave me a knowing look, as though he expected this reaction.

  I couldn't believe what I heard. This is absurd. No, it's insane. Vampires were beings that drank blood, feared sunlight, and hid in the dark. The concept of vampires existed only in movies and books, but not in real life. If it was a joke, it would a hirious one. Sure, there are conspiracy theories ciming that some billionaires are not even human: they're just lizardmen wearing human skin. But it's only a theory, just a theory, and not a fact.

  Akito, however, seemed unfazed by my skepticism. Instead, he nodded toward one of the nearby servants, a figure who had been standing quietly by the doorway.

  “Bring it in,” he said simply.

  The servant disappeared into the hallway for a moment and returned holding a small medical pack of blood, its contents a rich, dark crimson that looked all too real. He handed it to Tsukiko, who took it without a word, her expression unreadable.

  I watched in horror as she held the bag to her lips, her dark eyes flickering with an intensity I hadn’t seen before. With a calm, practiced motion, she bit into the pack, her fangs puncturing the thin pstic. The crimson liquid pooled in her mouth, and I felt my stomach turn as she drank with an unnervingly controlled grace, every movement deliberate and precise.

  “Oh my god…” The words escaped before I could stop them, my body frozen as I watched her drain the bag. The sight was surreal—a scene out of some twisted nightmare. She was drinking real blood. Actually drinking it.

  This couldn’t be happening. I wanted to bolt, to get as far from this pce as possible, but my legs aren't listening to me, like a glue being put up under. My heart hammered in my chest, each beat thudding louder than the st. I wanted to close my eyes, but I couldn’t look away. The sight was terrifying, yet somehow mesmerizing, a primal reminder that something unfathomable was unfolding before me.

  Tsukiko lowered the empty bag, her expression softened as she looked at me. Blood flows from her mouth, and she appears satisfied. It's as if I'm looking at another person. My heart was racing, and my body begged me to leave, but Akito extended his hand and signaled for me to stay.

  “Before you jump to conclusions, Kazuki, let me assure you that we are not like the monsters depicted in your books and films,” he said gently. “We do not roam the streets at night hunting humans, nor do we turn into bats or seek eternal life through the blood of the innocent.”

  “Then what are you?” I stammered, struggling to keep my voice steady.

  Akito’s gaze softened, a hint of sympathy in his eyes. “We are a part of a very ancient world—one that lives in harmony with humanity, often right under its nose. The legends you know, the stories you’ve read… they were born from misunderstandings, exaggerations, and, at times, fear.”

  I took a shaky breath, still reeling from what I’d seen. “So you… you don’t… kill people?”

  He shook his head. “Our family, the Kurohana, has always believed in restraint. For centuries, we’ve found ways to coexist without harming others. The blood you saw Tsukiko drink is procured ethically, and we consume only what we need to survive.”

  I swallowed, still trying to wrap my head around this revetion. “So… you’re telling me there are vampires who… what, order blood bags like they’re groceries?”

  Akito’s lips curved into a slight smile. “In a sense, yes. We have made arrangements over the years to ensure that we live discreetly, blending into society without disrupting it.”

  “But why?” I asked, my curiosity outweighing my fear for a moment. “Why go to all this trouble just to… fit in?”

  His gaze turned thoughtful. “Survival, Kazuki. We learned long ago that if we were to thrive, we needed to abandon the predatory habits that humans so fear. The Kurohana family, in particur, has worked tirelessly to build a legacy of peace, one that fosters respect rather than fear.”

  I gnced at Tsukiko, who was watching me with an unreadable expression. There was a strange dignity about her, a quiet strength that seemed worlds away from the monstrous images of vampires in horror stories.

  “I can see this is difficult for you to accept,” Akito said, his voice gentle. “Perhaps a tour of our home will give you a better understanding of our family’s history, of the world we live in.”

  He signaled for me to go with him and I followed him along the mansion's huge, echoing hallways. The pce felt ancient, with each chamber emitting an impression of something much older than I could grasp. This was more than simply a mansion; it was a vault, a safe haven for centuries-old secrets of the Kurohana family.

  As we walked, Akito continued speaking, his voice calm and steady. “Throughout history, vampires have appeared in human folklore in many forms. You’ve likely heard of the traditional tales—vampires who burn in sunlight, who avoid garlic, holy water, and crosses. These stories, however, are mere fragments of the truth, distorted by superstition and fear.”

  He paused before a rge portrait, his expression solemn. “In reality, most of these ‘weaknesses’ were invented by humans to expin what they couldn’t understand. Sunlight, for example, is not fatal to us. It simply weakens our abilities temporarily, much like a human might feel tired after a long day’s work. We prefer darkness because it allows us to be at our full strength.”

  I nodded slowly, letting his words sink in. It was strange, almost surreal, to hear vampires being discussed in such a rational way.

  “We also do not turn into bats or wolves,” he continued, a hint of amusement in his tone. “While certain vampire families possess unique abilities, our transformations are… exaggerated in human folklore. We can move swiftly, silently, but we do not become animals.”

  I couldn’t help but feel a mix of relief and fascination. I read some cssic vampire stories in a library one time—Dracu, Nosferatu, the Count of Monte Cristo—and here was Akito, calmly dismantling those myths with a precision that made it seem… almost logical. It's way to unreal.

  “Then what about the… blood?” I asked hesitantly.

  “That part, I’m afraid, is accurate,” Akito admitted. “We require blood for sustenance, though only in small quantities. Human blood is rich in a certain energy that sustains us, but we don’t take it forcibly. We have cultivated legitimate and ethical sources over the centuries to avoid the need for violence.”

  He continued down the hallway, stopping in front of a rge, ornate tapestry depicting a fierce battle between humans and vampires.

  “This tapestry,” he said, touching its edge gently, “depicts a time when our kind was feared, hunted, misunderstood. Back then, the Kurohana family had to protect both humans and vampires from the chaos of conflict. We worked tirelessly to build trust, to form alliances that would allow us to live in peace.”

  I stared at the tapestry, taking in the scene. “So… you’re saying your family has been protecting humans?”

  Akito nodded. “Yes. Many families like ours share that purpose. We do not wish to harm; rather, we seek harmony with the world around us. Our survival depends on it.”

  The implications were staggering. All this time, I’d thought of vampires as predators, monsters lurking in the shadows. But here was a family that had dedicated itself to peace, to protecting the very species they were meant to prey upon.

  We continued down the hallway, and Akito’s expression grew thoughtful. “Vampires, you see, are a reflection of humanity’s fears and desires. Throughout history, we’ve been viewed as symbols of immortality, power, danger, even seduction. Humans both fear and envy us, and that has led to countless myths.”

  I nodded, my mind spinning with everything I’d just learned. “So… you’re not really immortal, then?”

  “Not in the way you think,” Akito replied, his voice calm. “Our lifespans are much longer than humans, yes, but we are not immune to death. We can die from certain injuries, or if we are deprived of blood for too long. Life, even for us, is fragile.”

  I felt a strange pang of empathy. Here they were, powerful beings who could live for centuries, yet they weren’t as invincible as I’d imagined. They, too, were vulnerable.

  Finally, we came to a stop in front of a grand library, the walls lined with ancient tomes and manuscripts. Akito gestured to the room with a sense of pride.

  “This is our family’s history,” he said. “Every lesson we’ve learned, every alliance we’ve formed, every challenge we’ve faced is documented here. It is a testament to our dedication to a life of peace, even in the face of prejudice and misunderstanding.”

  I walked over to one of the shelves, my fingers hovering over the dusty spines of the books. The sheer depth of history contained in this room was overwhelming. Each book, each page held a story, a legacy that spanned centuries.

  “You really aren’t what I expected,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.

  Akito’s gaze softened, and he gave a small nod. “That is why we invited you here, Kazuki. To show you that we are more than the myths. To ask you to join us in a life that requires understanding, respect, and trust.”

  After the startling revetions, Akito excused himself, leaving me and Tsukiko alone in a quiet sitting room, surrounded by the faint crackle of the firepce and shadows flickering across the walls. I couldn’t shake the image of her drinking that blood pack, and despite Akito’s expnations, my nerves were far from calm. I still felt like I was in a dream—or maybe a nightmare.

  I took a deep breath and gnced at Tsukiko, who sat stiffly across from me, her hands folded in her p, her gaze lowered. There was something about her expression—cool, guarded, but with a trace of something softer, maybe even vulnerable. I cleared my throat, unsure how to start this conversation.

  “So…” I began awkwardly, “how does it feel… knowing you’re a vampire?”

  Tsukiko’s eyes flicked up to meet mine, a faint surprise in her gaze. “It’s not something I think about often. It’s simply… what I am,” she replied quietly, her voice as controlled as ever.

  I tried to imagine what that must be like, growing up knowing you were fundamentally different, carrying the expectations of an ancient family. I shifted in my seat, searching for the right words.

  “I guess I’m just trying to understand,” I admitted. “All this… it’s a lot to take in. You have this whole… history. And now I’m supposed to teach you about… well, my normal life. But it doesn’t feel like we have much in common.”

  Tsukiko’s expression softened slightly. “You’re not alone in feeling… unsure, Kazuki,” she said. “This arrangement is as unfamiliar to me as it is to you.”

  I met her gaze, surprised by the honesty in her voice. “Really? I figured you’d be used to all this by now.”

  She shook her head, her eyes drifting to the fire. “I’ve spent my life preparing to uphold my family’s legacy, learning to meet the expectations pced upon me. But what my father is asking… it’s different. It’s not about duty or tradition. It’s about understanding something I’ve never been allowed to experience.”

  She paused, her voice softening. “You’re not like anyone I’ve known before, Kazuki. And… that makes me wary.”

  I managed a small smile, nodding. “I get it. Honestly, I’d be wary of me too. I’m just a guy trying to figure out my own life, let alone someone else’s.”

  Her lips twitched, almost forming a smile. “Perhaps that is why my father chose you.”

  A silence settled over us, but this time, it felt a little less heavy, as if we’d managed to bridge some of the distance between us. I could see now that beneath her poised exterior, Tsukiko was grappling with uncertainty, maybe even fear—emotions I hadn’t expected to see in someone so refined.

  “So… what exactly do you want to learn from me?” I asked, hoping to keep the conversation going. “I mean, what’s your goal in all this?”

  She looked thoughtful for a moment before speaking. “My father believes there is value in understanding human experiences—emotions, retionships, struggles that we may not encounter within our own world. He thinks that, perhaps, through you, I might learn how to connect with others on a… different level.”

  Her words hung in the air, thick with a sadness I hadn’t expected. I’d assumed that being a part of such a powerful family would mean a life of luxury and privilege, but Tsukiko’s expression suggested otherwise.

  “I’m guessing… you don’t get a lot of breaks, then,” I said quietly.

  She met my gaze, her eyes steady but distant. “Breaks are not a luxury we can afford. But you… you come from a different world. One I have only seen from afar.”

  I managed a small smile, trying to lighten the mood. “Yeah, well, it’s not exactly gmorous. Most of my ‘world’ involves flipping burgers and sleep all day.”

  Her lips twitched, almost forming a smile, but it faded as quickly as it came. “It’s still a life you chose. I envy that freedom, Kazuki.”

  Her words struck a chord in me. For the first time, I saw Tsukiko not as some distant, aloof heiress, but as a girl trapped by expectations she couldn’t escape.