Chapter Text
With hands secured behind his back, legs shackled to the floor in a restrained kneel, and a small glass vial containing a small amount of his own blood fastened to a simple leather cord which hung around his neck, Shuuichi of the Saihara Clan—no, just Shuuichi now, he mentally corrected himself—identified that after the ninth day of such treatment and forced adaptation to a nocturnal schedule, he had finally reached the acceptance stage of grief. Tears ducts long depleted, Shuuichi was confined in a windowless, small, lantern lit ‘showroom’ that, to him, was effectively a holding cell, an apt allegory to his destined new life of ‘service’ to whoever would walk through the dark, carved mahogany door and elect to purchase him. There was nothing he could do once his family officially signed him over and he legally renounced his clan name. The choice was made. His family should be safe, would be safe as long as he properly adapted to his new circumstances. And that’s what he wanted.
His gaze flickered upwards when he heard the click from the turning doorknob, and a young, male human appearing to be roughly his own age was ushered into the room by a vampire handler. The boy had fiercely spiky, platinum blonde hair and a very prominent ahoge, much more noticeable than his own. He wore a dark dress shirt and slacks, starkly contrasting with the cream-colored, v-neck long-sleeved shirt and dark grey sweats Shuuichi had been given to wear. Piercing blue eyes widened upon seeing Shuuichi shackled to the floor, and the boy nervously followed the handler’s instructions to mirror Shuuichi’s kneeling position on the opposite side of the room. Voluntary, he observed.
The vampire hung a small vial of blood around the boy’s neck, and briskly left the room. As the footsteps grew more distant, Shuuichi noted how the boy across from him absently rubbed his left forearm through his clothes, suggesting a recent drawing and supporting his earlier deduction. When the other rested his fists on his thighs, sitting in a proper seiza that Shuuichi was currently inhibited from, he caught Shuuichi’s staring and let out a muffed squeak, turning his gaze downwards.
“Sorry to worry you—I’m not a convict, I’m an L.B.” Shuuichi explained quietly, the boy meeting his eyes with a softened look.
“O-oh, my apologies. I didn’t know they also shackled—”
“—Only if we’re considered too valuable to risk escaping.” Shuuichi shrugged. The boy nodded in grave understanding. “If you don’t mind my asking, are you a V.S.?” He nodded again. “I won’t pry, I know we all have our reasons—”
“—I don’t mind explaining, if you don’t mind listening. It’s...somewhat of a relief, to tell the truth, to have someone to talk to who can at least relate a little.” Shuuichi smiled and nodded, feeling a bit relieved himself to have extended human interaction for the first time in days. “My classification ID is K1-B0”—Ah, ID instead of a name, he’s lower-class— “but I’m fond of the nickname the professor gave me, Kiibo.”
“Shuuichi,” he returned. “'The professor?'”
“Professor Idabashi was an upper-class scholar in my district. He took me in after my parents threw me out in the streets...i-it’s kind of a long story.” Looking out of the corner of his eyes, Kiibo’s smile turned a bit pained and wistful. “He was the father I wished I had. He educated me, and hoped to formally adopt me into his Clan, but then he got ill…” Kiibo swallowed hard before he continued. “Before he passed, he made me promise that I’d stay as safe as I could, even if it meant consenting to voluntary servitude in the capital to avoid ending up in the slums. So, here I am.”
What a world we live in that walking into a den of monsters can be safer than the world outside, Shuuichi thought bitterly. “I think he’d be glad you’re honoring his wishes. As a V.S. your contract has an end date, even if it can be transferred. You’ll receive your wages at the conclusion of your contract, so wherever you end up should be far away from the slums. There’s even the possibility of choosing to have your contract renewed if you happen to like the household you work for.” He smiled reassuringly, and he could see some of the tension leave Kiibo’s form.
“Th-thank you. The professor said the same things—it helps to hear his words coming from another person.” Finally he raised his eyes to look at Shuuichi again. “But...what about you? Why are you—”
The sound of the heavy door down the hall closing interrupted his inquiry and captured their attention, snapping to look at the door of their room. As he listened to the footsteps approaching and the faint conversational tone, Shuuichi could feel the instinctual trepidation settling in the pit of his stomach. The walking stopped, right in front of their door. There was a lower voice Shuuichi didn’t recognize and couldn’t quite make out what was said, but in response was the high, cajoling tone of the handler. The only words he accurately heard—”looking for”—were unhelpful.
A throat was very audibly cleared before the peephole of the door slid open, and the cold red eyes of the handler peered down at them both. The eyes narrowed before briefly flicking their gaze downwards, a wordless command. Shuuichi looked across to Kiibo, who looked at him in mild confusion. They didn’t really explain anything to him, did they? Shuuichi straightened his posture, nodded at him, once, before slightly drooping his chin. Mouth briefly opening in recognition, Kiibo bowed his head and lowered his eyes. Right after Shuuichi followed suit, the peephole swiftly closed again and the door swung open. As the vampires trickled in, Shuuichi swore he heard someone mutter ‘let’s just get this over with’ under his breath. He didn’t have much time to unpack that before the handler spoke:
“Announcing Their Imperial Highnesses, Crown Prince Rantarou and Prince Kokichi, Duke of Towa.”
Immediately Shuuchi’s hands shook, causing his shackles to rattle before he consciously forced them to still, and a cacophony of stunned thoughts and questions collided through his mind. He had expected to be assessed by nobility looking for a human consort, but he had never even thought to entertain the possibility of royalty, especially as high as the crown prince and his younger brother. More curious still was what they had listed as required criteria that would cause Kiibo, a V.S. of a lower-class background, to be ushered in as just a valid option as himself. Worry was also running through his mind for the boy he had just reassured mere moments ago, who undoubtedly presumed that he’d be matched with wealthy vampires or nobility looking for an additional, mundane servant. In high society, human consorts were usually acquired for entertainment or as arm candy at social gatherings, requiring a level of education and etiquette that Shuuichi doubted the late professor could’ve instilled in Kiibo in what sounded like a relatively short amount of time. The only reason the social requirements would be considered secondary in a human consort would be if their primary purpose was medical…
Shuuichi’s eyes widened slightly at the realization. He pursed his lips to prevent any involuntary noise of recognition from past them.
“Sooo why is this one restrained?” a voice, higher in tone than the unfamiliar one Shuuichi heard through the wall, asked about him. “Is he, like...some super cool new variety of human that will go berserk at the drop of the hat?” Unable to keep his brow from furrowing in confusion, Shuuichi just barely stopped himself from raising his head to look at the prince who made the absurdly unrefined, jubilant inquiry. He wondered if his twitch had been caught when he thought he heard a low snicker.
“N-no, Your Highness, he—” the handler’s reply abruptly cut off. Just as Shuuichi began to question it, the lower voice from earlier spoke.
“Allow me to translate my little brother…” the voice assuredly belonging to Crown Prince Rantarou began, the words little brother particularly coated with an underlying irritation, “Would you please unlock his shackles? Since there’s clearly not an issue of safety.”
“Of course, Your Highness.” As the handler stepped over to him and crouched to first unlock his leg restraints, Shuuichi questioned the point of the gesture. He’d remain kneeling and of course keep his hands to himself as expected signs of reverence and respect. Once his hands were freed, Shuuichi replaced them to sit on his thighs, without even rubbing his aching wrists since that would function as an inaudible complaint. After the handler stood up, Shuuichi bowed low, gently and briefly biting the inside of his cheek to ground himself before he spoke.
“I thank you for your undeserved benevolence, Your Highness.” Shuuichi slowly raised himself to a straight posture, but kept his eyes fixed on the cobblestone floor and his expression neutral. As the handler let out a pleased hum, Shuuichi braced himself.
“While I understand familiarity with social decorum is not presently a chief concern of Your Highnesses, should he be found suitable for your overall needs, he would not require much further instruction to successfully meet the expectations of a royal human consort at social gatherings.”
Although he had accepted his fate, Shuuichi still wrestled with being evaluated and discussed as if he were a non-entity. The flipside of the comfort of his relatively privileged upbringing was the delusion that his existence had value despite his human nature. His pride burned at the reminder that his existence had value only because of his human nature.
“But where’s the fun in that?” that same high voice belonging to the Duke of Towa cut in again. “Wouldn’t it be soooo much better to see those stuck-up old farts mortified by a few social faux pas but not able to do anything about it because he’s the personal blood bag of poow widdle fwail me?” His mocking tone turned morose and pitiful, and Shuuichi would have further analyzed the prince’s words and flippant attitude if it weren’t for his gut-punch inclusion of the pejorative slur.
“Kokichi…” the crown prince’s warning was sharp. “Don’t think I don’t know you’re stalling. We don’t have time for you to continue to drag your feet, we both have meetings later this evening.”
“Aw man, I can never pull one over my beloved Niichan can I? He’s just too smart for me,” he continued, voice light and disappointed.
“Kokichi.” Tone laden with severity, Crown Prince Rantarou effortlessly threatened his sibling just through his repetition of his given name. Shuuichi shuddered.
“Fiiine,” the younger prince lilted. Shuuichi startled when a glimpse of intricate purple velvet entered his line of vision, and he couldn’t help but raise his gaze to look straight in front of him. A dark-haired figure wearing a very royal purple jacket, almost touching the stone floor, was crouching down in front of Kiibo. The younger vampire prince was scandalously close to the ground, looming over a human, voluntarily contracted servant. “So who’s this cutie?” Kiibo squeaked at his rumbling tone, and Shuuichi couldn’t blame him for it in the slightest.
“Y-your Highness.” Even the handler seemed to be taken aback, and Shuuichi thought he heard the crown prince sigh exasperatedly. ”His classification—”
“—Uh, whatever your name was? I’d prefer to hear it from him, thank you very much.”
Surprised at the unexpected and definitely unorthodox validation of Kiibo’s sentience, Shuuichi began to recall and piece together the various clues he already heard throughout this encounter. The Imperial Kindred family was looking for at least one human consort for their second son, Prince Kokichi, to presumably treat his anemia, which—for vampires—had three types: hypermetabolic, hema-intolerant, and the incredibly rare psychosomatic. The prince seemed too spritely to be hema-intolerant, and his overt irritability was quite typical of vampires with hypermetabolic anemia. While usually afflicted vampires had no issue with toting around one of their collection of human consorts, the prince’s rebellious and generally irreverent behavior easily explained that apparent contradiction. While he couldn’t currently see any part of the royal’s skin, as it was hidden underneath either his elaborate regalia or his messy mop of hair, Shuuichi expected it to have the warm glow of an abundantly nourished royal. Hypermetabolic anemics didn’t look sickly at all, they were just plain pissy.
Kiibo’s tentative vocalization snapped Shuuichi out of his thoughts. “M-my C. ID is K1-B0. B-but, um, I p-prefer ‘K-Kiibo’…Your H-Highness.” Inwardly cringing, Shuuichi’s heart ached in sympathy.
An amused hum came from the young prince. “Oh, so...Kiiboy, is it?” Shuuichi’s cheeks burned at Kiibo being toyed with so blatantly.
“N-no, sir—uh, Your Highness, Kiibo.” At this rate Shuuichi could hardly tolerate the secondhand embarrassment and mortification that was building.
"Right, right. Kiibaby, got it." There was a pause between them, and then Prince Kokichi giggled. “Y’know with how crimson your face is right now, I’m surprised you’re not standing at full attention.” Shuuichi lowered his face—sure he couldn’t really see anything going on between the two anyway, or leave the room, but he could at least hide his face a bit.
“I...I’m sorry? I don’t understand what you mean. Should I not be kneeling?” I should not be here for this, why do I have to be here for this…
“Wooow! You’re so innocent!” The prince sounded far too giddy. “Empalmarse, Ständer, avoir la gaule, a boner— ya get me? I mean, you’re at least 18”—despite his mortification, Shuuichi couldn’t help but note that age had to be one of their criteria — ”so I’m sure at your age you’ve had one plenty of times.” Poor Kiibo let out another short, restrained, involuntary, high-pitched noise, and Shuuichi found that his secondhand embarrassment was gradually morphing into sympathetic indignation. “I mean, you do have a dick, right?” With that statement—forget gradually —Shuuichi lurched straight into outrage. He bit his lip to hold his tongue, not for his own sake but for that of his family and the newly befriended Kiibo.
So focused on regulating his emotions, Shuuichi missed when the stretch of silence became uncomfortable, and only snapped out of it when he heard the younger prince dumbly voice a prolonged, awkward-sounding “uhhhhh.” When he stood and stepped back a bit, Shuuichi could see that Kiibo’s face was entirely red and he looked...dejected? Oh no…
The handler sucked in a harsh breath, and drew Shuuichi’s attention. He looked humiliated with an underlying hint of wrath, betraying his contrite performance.
“Please accept my deepest apologies, Your Highness. When we accept a volunteer with recent medical paperwork, we usually have no reason to conduct our own independent physical. I had no idea that she had tampered with it and lied on her application—” the handler shut his mouth when the teeny prince raised his hand. Looking over back to Kiibo, Shuuichi could see the other boy lowered his head, but from Shuuichi’s mirrored position on the ground he could see his eyes shining with barely repressed tears. His fury flared again.
“Don’t be silly, Kiiboy didn’t lie about anything!” At this, Shuuichi felt bewildered relief. “He and my beloved Niichan are, after all, the most honest men in this room.” Brutal, Shuuichi observed, not only did he flagrantly destroy the handler, but he included himself in his statement...as well as me? “Believe me, I would know! I mean, haven’t you heard that I’m commonly called the Prince of Lies?” The prince snickered, and while he was facing away from Shuuichi, he could at least see that the handler’s face had significantly paled at unexpectedly offending the prince. “He’s perfect,” Prince Kokichi’s face, slightly hidden by his mass of hair, turned to regard Kiibo again, “you’re hired. Whelp, this has been fun, see you around!” Swiftly turning toward the exit, the prince was stopped by his older brother seizing the back of the collar of his jacket.
“Hold on.” The crown prince eyed him with obvious suspicion. “You didn’t even try his sample.”
“Don’t need to!” Prince Kokichi dismissed exuberantly with a wave of his hand. “I’m suuuuure he tastes just delicious.”
“Liar.” As Crown Prince Rantarou firmly cradled his brother’s jaw with one hand and forcibly tilted his face upwards, Shuuichi finally got a decent look at the younger prince’s features, which subsequently left him utterly puzzled. There was no sanguine flush in the Duke’s face, despite him looking rather annoyed; instead his cheeks held a sickly pallor more like what one would expect from a delicate hema-intolerant anemic. The taller prince continued, “Look me in the eye and tell me that there’s zero possibility that you’ll ever ditch him for a few particular days during a lunar cycle.” Unnervingly, Prince Kokichi’s expression drained of any and all emotion, and his already ashen countenance grew even paler. “I thought so. Father certainly wouldn’t care if you hired an extra servant, and I don’t mind indulging your protective tendencies. But I’m not going to let you lie to me and yourself to continue to jeopardize your health.”
As Shuuichi observed their peculiar exchange, Prince Kokichi extracting himself with a huff, the various clues from the whole encounter began to piece themselves together: Pale complexion; using the term “frail” to describe himself earlier (even if it was mocking), while still seeming to be somewhat agile; his brother repeatedly calling him out on various types of avoidance, including—if he understood the crown prince’s potential euphemism correctly—an abnormal aversion to being around a menstruating human being; and the implication that he was the one jeopardizing his own health…
There was only one explanation, as impossible as it was. Catching a threatening glare from the handler, Shuuichi ceased his overt staring, but couldn’t wipe the intrigue from his expression. He straightened his posture but unfurled his fingers, laying them flat against his thighs. Still respectful, but more relaxed and somewhat confident. As much as the whole situation frightened him, the little Shuuichi had witnessed of Prince Kokichi had convinced him that it wasn’t in the vampire’s character to be physically violent. He could not imagine that the royal would parade him around like a pretty accessory, nor hedonistically drink from him in front of others in possessive exhibition rather than to sate his biological needs. It was inevitable that Shuuichi would become some vampire’s human consort, and he couldn’t guarantee anyone who took an interest in him in the future would be remotely considerate of his existence. He had one shot at relatively improving his circumstances.
“So,” Prince Kokichi finally turned to address him, irritation clearly latent in his tone and not crouching down like he did for Kiibo. “Your name, Mr. Prim-and-Proper?”
In a bold move, before he could talk himself out of it, Shuuichi raised his head and met the prince’s gaze. “My name, Your Highness, is Shuuichi.”
There seemed to be a slight sparkle in the prince’s vibrant violet eyes, annoyance draining from his face and being replaced by amusement. “Well, well, well! Where did you come from and what did you do with the submissive doormat who was kneeling there?”
Noting the pattern of playfulness but still needing to carefully choose his words in case he failed, Shuuichi paused briefly before answering. “He’s still here, Your Highness, ready to serve whoever deems him worthy. He’s just been observing and refraining from speaking out of turn.” Prince Kokichi scoffed, crouching in close.
“If you’re so ready, then why are you trembling?” the prince challenged with a sneer. “Your reverence is a lie, you want to be here as much as I do. Then why volunteer?” His body and clothes, for the time-being, completely shielded Shuuichi from the other occupants in the room. Assured, Shuuichi hardened his gaze into a spirited glare. He thought he saw a flicker of shock in the other’s eyes, but it was gone as soon as he noticed it.
Shifting the position of his hands to allow his fingers to lace together in his lap, Shuuichi answered in a calm tone that contradicted his transparent emotions. “My lowly circumstances are inconsequential to one as esteemed as yourself, Your Highness. However, should you wish to hear them, I will tell you to the full extent that I’m allowed, according to the law of His Formidable Majesty, the Emperor.”
Again some unrecognizable emotion flashed through Prince Kokichi’s face, quickly hidden before Shuuichi could deduce it. The vampire hummed. “Oh, so Daddy Dearest has got your tongue?”
Shuuichi exhaled silently through his nose, then answered. “If that is how Your Highness perceives it, then it is so.” He blatantly rolled his eyes, and when he resumed looking at the vampire in front of him he saw that he had a grin on his face, his fangs prominently showcased.
“Hmm...it seems this canary can sing well enough, but can he do any interesting tricks?”
A bit confused, he regarded the prince. Every time Shuuichi got the impression the other was interested, Prince Kokichi would say something alienating. He’d think he was being toyed with, if it weren’t for his intuition that the prince was erecting an emotional wall for some reason he couldn’t discern. Pausing a moment and looking away to gather his thoughts, Shuuichi determined how he’d twist the approved script.
“Your Highness, I’ve been told I excelled in my prior studies, not just in social etiquette but also academics. While I am average in strategy games such as chess, I’m well-versed in classic literature, and have exhaustively read contemporary kindred medical journals.”
“Exhaustively? That seems rather excessively boring, Shuuichi.” It still felt wrong to hear his given name without his clan name attached, but Shuuichi stifled his rising bitterness to deal with at a later time.
“It was considered indispensable knowledge for one who was expected to converse in high society, which, to some, may be characterized as ‘excessively boring,’ Your Highness.” Prince Kokichi quirked his lips into an amused smirk. “Perhaps, if it pleases you, I could demonstrate an example of my ability to apply my knowledge?”
The prince arched an eyebrow. “You may.”
“I thank you for your charity, Your Highness.” Shuuichi pursed his lips, finally identifying the pattern that the prince seemed to become lowkey annoyed at rehearsed, deferential pleasantries. Interesting. “If I am not mistaken, Your Highness is afflicted with hema-intolerant anemia, yes?”
The prince smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Perhaaaaps. What brings you to that conclusion?”
“Earlier it was mentioned social decorum was considered a secondary quality in a human consort for Your Imperial Highness, which would, generally, only be the case if one were needed to treat a medical concern,” Shuuichi started carefully. “Please forgive me for being so bold to state that your complexion has the pallor often seen in kindred with hema-intolerant anemia. While usually such kindred are prone to fatigue, often struggle to walk for extended periods, or even stand up from a seated position, the only credible explanation is that due to your imperial lineage you have the strength to move with such grace.”
“‘Only credible explanation’? You’re saying there could be another reason?” His eyes were wide with what Shuuichi assumed was interest. He had gone this far, he was unable to back out now. He just needed to play his cards right.
“Only theoretically, Your Highness.”
Swallowing, Shuuichi became acutely aware of his heart hammering in his chest as the silence stretched in the room. Prince Kokichi had no expression on his features, as he did earlier during his exchange with his elder brother. Shuuichi fought to maintain eye-contact, tightening the grip between his fingers. Unwilling to let this chance, this mystery slip through his grasp, his unyielding body language only visible to the atypical royal who demanded to be entertained with the unexpected.
Finally the Duke of Towa shattered their brief silence. “Hmm. Indulge me. What is this theoretical, other explanation?”
“Your Highness.” Shuuichi practically crushed his own fingers from how hard he was squeezing them to steady his voice. “The theory holds no merit when you consider reality. It would be impossible to even think that His Imperial Highness, Prince Kokichi, second in line to the throne, could ever suffer from psychosomatic anemia.”