one: sunset

"Young master, please wait!" A woman cried. She was dressed in a simple kimono of a dull colour, a sign that she was a servant. On the back of her kimino was embroidered a family crest of some sort. She worked for a distinguished family.

"Leave me," a boy frostily said, gliding with an unseemly grace for such a young boy. He looked to be around seven years old and he was tall for his age but the look in his eyes gave away his youth.

"Young master you musn't! The young mistress is waiting to see you!" The woman pleaded, continuing to run after her master's swift steps. She was a young girl, most likely a new maid in the castle and from the way the young master's face was becoming darker and darker, she evidently, was a stupid maid.

"I told you to LEAVE!" The boy screamed, whirling around. The woman froze to the spot, the dark aura that the boy was emitting was too intense for such an innocent soul to have.

"But young master, the young mistress..." The woman attempted.

"Stupid woman tell the to leave. All of them! LEAVE ME ALONE!" The boy's eyes turned a strange red and as if in a movie, the the stones around the glassless windows crumbled, the plants tearing themselves into bits. And through the falling debris, the woman thought that she saw a devil in the form of a little boy.

"D-Demon!" The woman cried, falling down and scuttling back pathetically on her bottom. The boy smiled, a dark, twisted smile.

"Not a demon," the boy shook his head. "Just a boy who wants to be left alone. Who would kill for it. So if you value your life..." He trailed off, leaving the end of the sentence purposefully unsaid but the implication was clear. And thankfully, the woman scrambled onto her feet and ran off. The boy sneered at her retreating form, continuing to head off towards the gardens. He was well aware that the family of the girl who wanted to see him would probably kill the maid for being unable to provide but he didn't care.

The boy hated his life. He didn't know who his father was. Or his mother. Or if he even had any siblings. His life has always been in this stone castle and he has never been out of it. He wasn't allowed out of it and the servants always watched over him twenty-four hours a day. Frankly it was annoying.

And recently he'd been getting hungry. He'd always been hungry but it was easy to squash back then. But recently he had been getting hungrier and hungrier and it was getting harder to squash. His thoughts lingered back on that maid as he stepped into the comforting darkness of a cave he had discovered in the gardens. He sat down on the least dirty patch of rock so that his caretaker wouldn't criticise him later for the dirt stains on his kimono. He imagined the situation she would be in now. She probabl would be crying on the ground like the pathetic woman she was. But the more he thought about her, the more he lingered on her exposed neck with her hair gathered up, her delicate wrists with the essence of life pulsing through the vessels like a raging river.

He came back to himself with a start, a throbbing pain in his mouth. He reached up with a hand, his fingers coming away wet from his lips. The scent of blood hit him strongly and with his tongue, he traced it over the long canine teeth, pointed like fangs that certainly weren't there earlier. He couldn't go back looking like this.

"Young master." It wasn't the young maid's voice. The boy knew the voice very well, the calm voice of his caretaker, a woman halfway through her life and the head servant of the household.

No no no no no the boy chanted in his head, his heartbeat quickening up, saliva pooling in his mouth as he smelled her coming closer. But also from panic, he didn't know what was happening. Was he truly a demon like the young maid had said?

"Young master, please come out," the woman said, the boy could see her silhouette, black against the sunlight streaming in from the cave opening. "Really young master." She huffed, walking blindly into the darkness, the boy knew just how dark it was, and he prayed that she wouldn't go any further, slinking back into the shadows.

"Ow!" His caretaker hissed. She had been feeling her way through the cave by reaching out for a cave side, but a stone was sharper than expected.

The boy couldn't tear his eyes away from the warm trickle of blood that flowed out of her worn palm. He followed the drop as it traced a red line down the wrist, tempting him to colour in the line with his teeth.

"Young master there you are!" the woman smiled as she finally saw something that looked like the outline of her young master. "Young master? Young master! Argh!" She screamed, the last thing she saw before the life drained out of her was the bright red eyes and the sharp fangs of a vampire.

******************************************************

A glass shattered in his hand. The school uniformed male gave barely a glance to his hand, the cuts healing almost instantly. He stood up gracefully, drawing the thick curtains back slightly and wincing at the evening sun that peeked through.

Three quick knocks sounded at the door, and the boy answered with a whisper of a "come in". But the person on the other side heard as the door opened.

"Yorukage-sama," the girl kneeled, one knee on the ground and the other raised. She was clothed in the female version of the white uniform that Yorukage Suhou wore. "A letter has arrived for you." She remained kneeling, her head bowed as she held the rolled up scroll in her hands. Suhou stared at the roll of paper, noting the red ribbon around the centre, sealed with a red wax seal with an emblem that he recognised.

"Thank you Kaede," he murmured, taking the scroll, and breaking it open. Kaede stood up, bowed and then left, closing the door, quiet, unnoticeable behind her.

"What does that Vampire Council want," Suhou said, skimming through the letter. "A ball?" He sneered, throwing the paper carelessly into the fire burning at the end of the room. "A ball..." He repeated, sounding less disdainful this time, his voice contemplative. "It has been a while since I have attended one."

He stood up suddenly in one smooth motion, heading back over to the window. The sun had set lower, no longer glaring its bright eye in the sky but only existing through the orange clouds on the horizon. From his view, he could see the empty and quiet pathway that led to the building of the school not too far away from the Moon Dormitory, the home to the Night Class Students. He could see two familiar figures in black waiting at the side of the pathway.

Suhou straightened the red tie of his uniform, the silver pin marking him as the president of the Night Class and the Moon Dormitory. He did up the top button of the black button-down and ran his hands down the white blazer with black accent lines and a white pants. He left his room, Kaede bowing as he walked past, taking her position that would give her the best point of attack if anyone was to attack the only pureblood vampire in the school, and one of the few remaining purebloods, the rightful King of Vampires.

The waiting white-uniformed students instantly knelt as Suhou appeared at the top of the staircase with a "Yorukage-sama". Suhou inclined his head, saying nothing but the waves of calm power that rolled off him were self-explanatory. The students stood, and so began another day of school.

two: evening

"Mother, when's dinner?" A little boy whined planitively. He was around six years old and was in Year One at his local primary school. His mother sneered, not even turning around from the mirror though the boy could see her expression in her reflection.

"Never now go away you little brat," she snapped, cursing loudly as she poked herself in the eye with her mascara wand. She screamed, standing up and glaring at the boy. "See what you've done?! Make yourself useful and get out of my sight!" She grumbled as she reached for a tissue to wipe away the black stains around her eye. She took out a bright red lipstick, smearing it over her full lips. If she hadn't decked herself out enough to look trashy, she could have actually been pretty. But with the extreme make-up, the talon sharp 'stripper heels' and a tight, strapless minidress that barely held her breats in, she looked like a walking trainwreck.

"What are you doing? Out out out!" She screamed. The boy teared up but dropped his head, leaving one of the two rooms in their dismal accomodations. He dumped himself in the corner of the room, pulling a threadbare blanket over himself to keep from freezing, drawing his knees up to his chest.

"But I'm hungry," he whispered quietly to himself, his stomach growling in response. He sniffled, trying to hold back his tears out of fear that his mother would hear him and yell at him...again. The sound of shoes clacking across the floor and the slam of the door echoed loudly in the sad excuse for a home. The boy, stood up, going to his school bag, more like a plastic shopping bag to take out the papers that were for homework.

"27 minus 18 is..." The boy stared at it, scratching his head. He couldn't wrap his head around what '7 minus 8' was because he couldn't go into minus fingers. He sighed miserably, skipping that question and doing the easier addition questions. No matter that every question he could do he got right, there were just too many he couldn't do, and his mother didn't help him, she never helped him.

"Uwah I'm so stupid," the little boy sniffled, putting away his homework and curling up on the sofa. He nudged the blanket and a jacket over him, but was still cold. He pressed himself into the side of the sofa, letting the fabric soak up his tears.

*******************************************

A blonde boy, though not naturally blonde, he had dyed it sat high up on a tree branche, eyes focused on what he could see in the window but his hands were tightly gripping the branche. From the way his eyes were trained at one spot, he didn't want to die today, but he was too enraptured with something to leave his spot.

It was night. The moon was high in the air and threw a silver beam on the ground. The boy stared in cmoplete adorement at the figures he could see moving in the window. He was too far away to get a proper glance, but as he held up his most tresured possession, his camera and held his finger on the zoom button, he could see his idol's perfect outline, pale against the darkness of the room, his hair lighting up in radiance. Oh god they were just so beautiful---

"Tuskimori Ringo, get down."

Ringo froze. He recognised that voice, the calm 'do what I say or I will torture you and laugh while you scream'. Maybe that was an exagerration. But there were only two people that were patrolling the school at night, the two members of the Disciplinary Committee and it most certainly wasn't the bouncy voice of the 'nice one'.

"Get down."

Ringo sighed and after hesitantly stepped down, holding onto the tree trunk so hard that it was a wonder that he didn't cut himself. He breathed a sigh of relief when his feet touched the ground but then dreaded turning around.

"What number is it now, like the tenth?" Akito said, his voice harsh. "The school year has barely started!" Akito scowled, plucking Ringo's camera swiftly from his hands.

"NO!" Ringo screamed, instantly lunging from it, but with one hand, Akito held Ringo at bay and the other was flicking through the photos. Ringo curse his short height, he was a good seven centimetres shorted than the other male.

"The Night Class," Akito sneered and Ringo paused. The amount of hatred in Akito's voice was too great to be a simple dislike. But he quickly pushed that thought aside, and struggled to reach his camera.

"Kurosawa-senpai please," Ringo whined, reaching out with his hands for his camera. Akito turned the applicance off, evidently having found nothing to comment on, considering the bad quality of Ringo's photos.

"Detention for a week Tsukimori-kun," Akito listed off, ignoring the wailing pleas of the younger student. "And if you are ever out here again, you better hope it's not me who catches you or I will destroy your camera. Capiche?"

"What?! You---I capiche capiche!" Ringo hurriedly said, weighing up the pros and cons in his mind and realising that his camera was too precious. He just had to be more cautious about not being caught by the freaking scary half of the disciplinary committee next time.

"Good," Akito nodded, even though he would probably never follow up on his threat. "And Tsukimori-kun? Stop wearing so much make-up."

Ringo raised a hand to his face as he watched Akito's figure disappear into the trees, the one thing allowing him outside at night being the red armband around his uniform. He stuffed his camera quickly into his pocket racing to the still fountain to stare into the pool of water. A handsome blonde boy stared back at him but that wasn't the way that Tsukimori Ringo saw it. He rubbed his fingers over the bumpy part of his face, only natural because he was going through puberty. But that wasn't the way that he saw it.

He looked up and staring at the dim darkness of the Night Class room, he strived to one day be as perfect as them.

three: night

"Where's father?" a little boy asked, around six years old. A boy his age should be at school but from the elaborate and extravagant furnishings around the table that he sat at, he was from a wealthy family, nobility and he was home-schooled.

"The master has business to attend," a servant said simply, setting down a plate of breakfast, bowing and retreating to the corner to act as a piece of furniture again. The boy frowned, a pout forming on his face as he pushed away his plate with its utensils too big for a mere child.

"I'm not hungry," he said, standing up, the servant bowing and taking the plate without a complaint. The boy didn't even ask where his mother was because he knew that hsi mother would follow his father wherever he went. He left the room, heading up the grand staircase towards his room but paused a few steps up when the door was pushed open. A grin broke out over his face when he saw his neighbour, a boy around the same age as him.

"Taemin!" The boy laughed, running down the stairs and the servants who were secretly looking hid their smiles from the adorable scene in front of them.

"Look what okaa-sama gave me!" Taemin held up a chess board proudly. "Onii-sama says that it's a difficult and a grown-up game!"

"Wah that's so cool!" the boy exclaimed. "Come to my room, let's play!" Taemin nodded eagerly in response and after taking each other's hand, they raced up the stairs to the boy's pretty big room for a child.

"Do you know how to play?" The boy asked, after they had set the chessboard out. They had managed to divide the pieces into black and white but didn't know where to go from there.

"Onii-sama says that you have to set it out like this," Taemin pointed to a picture. Both the boys studied it for a while, carefully finding the matching pieces and putting it in the squares that the picture said.

"Where's oba-sama and oji-sama?" Taemin asked, setting out his black line of pawns carefully.

The boy paused, putting down his white queen. "Not here."

"Again?"

"Yea."

********************************************

The boy turned away from the glass of translucent red water in disgust, a sad excuse for blood tablets. He drummed his fingers against the desk impatiently, the room filled with quiet chatter and murmurs. He was bored for heavens sake.

"I know, they taste disgusting but Yorukage-sama will have your head on a spike if you go too hungry," a girl quietly said, sliding into the vacant seat next to the boy. "Drink up Eiji-kun."

Sugiyama Eiji pulled a face but did so, picking up the glass and sipping at it like he would at medicine. "Go away Amber."

"Well aren't you moody today. What, woke up on the wrong side of the bed?" Amber laughed, earning a glare from Eiji and shut up quickly.

"No I bumped into that hunter today. He had the nerve to pull a gun on me! If it wasn't for Yorukage-sama, I would have killed him right then and there," Eiji hissed angrily, slamming a fist down on the table. He flushed in embarrassment not a second later as the room rippled into silence from his fist slam.

"Calm yourself Eiji," Suhou said from the front of the room where he sat conversing with his colloquially named "right-hand man".

Eiji flushed yet again, bowing his head and keeping it bowed. "My most profound apologies Yorukage-sama, it won't happen again." His heart beat faster in nervousness as he worried about whether his idol would hate him.

"See that it doesn't happen again," Suhou replied calmly albeit coldly.

"Of course Yorukage-sama." Eiji breathed a sigh of relief as he raised his head again.

"Dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb," Amber chanted which earned her a well-deserved slap on the head from Eiji.

"Aish you're boring," Eiji said, leaning back on his chair and folding his hands behind his head. "I wish Joonmyeon-chan was here."

"Joonmyeon is a mere common vampire," Amber wrinkled her nose in disgust, her aristocratic upbringing coming to light in that moment. "He is not fit to breathe the same air as Yorukage-sama, he is not worthy to the mud off Yorukage-sama's shoes."

"That's true however..." Eiji sighed in defeat, knowing that Amber was right in every way. "Whatever go away!" He flapped his hands in annoyance and Amber looked very much affronted as she evacuated the seat. Eiji knew that he would regret it later but he couldn't bring himself to care.

four: midnight

Blood. So much blood.

The boy didn't notice the red stains creaping up his pajama bottoms, only focused on the dead bodies of his parents. Their necks so twisted, their eyes wide and chest gaping open, all covered in red. He couldn't tear his eyes away from the horror, from the gore.

"Why?" He whispered, taking his eyes off the mangled bodies of his parents and slowly raising them to meet the eyes of his identical twin. The twin whom he had loved. "Why Hiro?"

His twin stood behind the woman, the vampire that stood in the middle of the room, stains decorating her kimono like battlescars. The vampire laughed silently, flicking her eyes sideways to assess the boy who stood by the door.

"Come join us," Hiro said, reaching out a hand. "We won't hurt you."

"Hiro you traitor!"

The kind look on his twin's face was instantly wiped away. "Traitor? Me? You forget that to be a traitor, I would have to have been on your side in the first place!"

The boy looked shocked, his seven year old face contorting in a way that a child should never be. "I don't understand."

"Of course you wouldn't understand. Your the Kurosawa, you're the hunter that's more than a hunter! I was always in your shadows, I was always looked over in favour of you. I was the weaker half." Hiro tilted his chin upwards, letting the moonlight fall across his face in an omnious way. "But not anymore. She offered me power, and I took it."

"She's a vampire Hiro!" The boy yelled, screaming, trying to get some sense into his brother.

"You're shallow," Hiro sighed. "I guess this is goodbye then brother."

"Don't you leave!" The boy grabbed the anti-vampire rifle lying by the door, shooting it randomly at the vampire. It barely grazed her cheek but she looked back, nothing but amusement in her features as she cradled his brother in her arms and left through the window.

And for the first time, he was well and truly alone.

*********************************************

"Why so miserable Akito-chan?" The headmaster asked with a bright smile, tugging his scarf closer around him and warming his hands around his cup of tea. His didn't even notice when his glasses fogged up from the steam as he raised it to drink and Akito tried to stop a small fond smile that tugged at his lips. For him, that equated to a full-blown grin with teeth and all.

"Just a bad memory," Akito replied quietly, his face sliding back into a frown at that. The headmaster Akiyama Takashi, and his adopted father said nothing at that. He knew very well what that meant, he was the one who had rescued Akito from the horror of his destroyed house.

"Akito, you can't let things in the past get to you," Takashi said softly, standing up and laying a hand on Akito's arm in a gestured of support and a hope to somehow comfort his son. No such luck, Akito shook his father's hand off in a none-too-subtle way.

"I'll be getting back to my duties now," Akito said, leaving no room for response as he leapt out of the third storey window, his father having long given up scolding Akito for it, it never worked and strangely his son was never injured.

Akito was almost flying as he plummeted down the not-too-short distance. He grabbed a tree branch out of instinct to soften his fall when he landed, barely flinching at the slight scratch that marred the skin of his palm. He landed softly on the ground, loosening his tie that the headmaster had done up again when he had visited his father.

And then he instantly headed for the stables.

True, he wasn't one to neglect his duties but after relieving that, he deserved it. Horses were his one true love. They were so majestic, and powerful and silently beautiful. Cross Academy had a stable because they were a private school after all, and it was a private school-y thing, especially a boarding school to have students who competed in traditional activities such as horse-riding. Akito wasn't one for those activities, he just liked being around horses. Especially one was his favourite.

"Hello Kuri," he cooed softly, walking to the second horse, a three year old filly who he had raised from a foal. She was a purebred white Arabian, simply pure white, not grey but white. Arabians are very rarely truly white.

Kuri tossed her head forward, turning her soft dark eyes on Akito. He reached out and gently her nose, feeding her carrots that he'd snuck out from the cafeteria. Technically, he wasn't supposed to be spoiling her like that but she deserved some spoiling. "How are you girl?" Akito gently murmured, now feeding her sugar cubes which she was partial too. Any horse would be.

Kuri whined as Akito opened the door to her stable. It was a pretty large one, enough for her to wander around in, for four of her to lie down at the edges with room to spare. Akito picked up a brush after he shut the door again, beginning to brush the hay and the dirt out of Kuri's stunning white coat. "You'll never leave me right?" It was a rhetorical question but then one would question why he asked it in the first place.

Akito looked out of the window after finishing grooming the filly, checking his watch. It was midnight. "He'll kill me," he said, referring to his adopted brother who would probably tear straight into him because he had slacked off his duties. He shrugged, his brother was already going to be pissed with him, taking some well-deserved shuteye after telling that Ringo off again was something that he was entitled too.

"Stand guard my sweet," Akito murmured, lying down on the mattress that the hay made. He didn't worry about the manure because it was cleaned out daily, or nightly. And Kuri, even though she was a mere animal, she wouldn't dare do her business on Akito. So he slept.

five: dawn

He was so bored. Bored out of his mind, but he couldn't, he wouldn't let that show on his face. While inside he was throwing himself against the wall of his mind, outside was simply a pleasant smile and a half-listening ear for the right times to nod and murmur.

"He's a wonderful child. Just perfect, as expected from one who shares your esteemed bloodline." The boy heard someone chatter amicably to his father and a pleased smile came across his young face at the praise. Father would be proud.

"He's my son after all, of course he's perfect," his father said with pride shining through his voice, and even though the little boy was so bored, he sat up a little straighter, rearranged his hands in a more 'adult'-y position and smilled even though his cheeks hurt from all the fake ones already.

"How are you doing sweetie?" a woman walked up behind him, laying her hands on his shoulders and leaning over so that she could peck his cheek.

The little boy breathed in the sweet scent of his mother's perfume, calming down and squirming slightly at the kiss. "Fine okaa-sama."

"That's my sweet boy." She patted his shoulder again, standing up to mingle with the other women present at the ball.

It was a relatively normal affair, his father threw balls as such quite often just as the other aritocrats. Women were dressed in flowing ballgowns, the girl sdressed in less extravagant dresses and the men wore tuxedoes. An orchestra was set up right off the stage, playing a waltz, one of Chopin's the boy believed as it wasn't dancing just yet. He stood up, not needing to excuse himself as his mother wasn't there, his father was showing his older brother, the heir around.

He headed for the upstairs because the chatter of downstairs was becoming overwhelming. Upstairs it was quiet, and he walked once around the balcony, the part that overlooked the festivities on the ground.

"Oh, sorry." The boy had bumped into someone and he instantly bowed, before straightening up and meeting the eyes of another boy. The second boy stared at the other curiously before being led away by a man that possibly was his father. The little boy couldn't help but stare after the retreating form of the other. The aura surrounding him was not something that the boy had experienced often, no ever.

But he thought of nothing and returned to the ball.

***********************************

An adult wearing a long robe with a hood pulled up to hide his face walked swiftly through the doors of the Moon Dormitory, his dark attire clashing with the pristine white decor of the Moon Dormitory. He walked with a purpose, hurrying up the stairs like some sort of ghost, being stared at by the students of Night Class but he didn't hold their interest for long. He stopped in front of a door, alone in its wing and completely silent. He rapped sharply on the door, but received no response and raised his hand to open the door.

"It would be advisable not to do that," a student walked along the corridor, hands tucked into the pockets of his white pants, a genial smile on his face. "Suhou-sama is currently resting. What business do you have with him?"

"Still serving as his right hand Busujima-san?" The robed figured said softly, but that didn't diminish the harshness present in his voice.

Busujima Komuro didn't flinch, taking the scroll offered to him in silence, breaking the seal and skimming over the contents. He soon realised it was a contract and he'd be damned if he didn't read something that he wold be signing for Suhou properly. He carefully read the cursive writing, even the little font at the bottom of the page and wordlessly held his hand out. The man gave him a pen, and leaning against the wall, Komuro signed in the space.

"Not going to consult your pureblood?" The man said, clearly sneering.

"There's no need," Komuro said coldly, trying but failing not to glare daggers at the man. Said man, laughed, bowed mockingly and left. Komuro clenched his jaw angrily, walking back to his room stiff-backed with a robotic gait.

"He was from the Council," Eiji said, who had been waiting by Komuro's door, having witnessed that entire exchange.

"I figured," Komuro spat out angrily. Eiji looked offended at having that attitude used on him, the vice president of the Moon Dormitory and the Night Class who was usually so kind and calm. "Look, I'm sorry," Komuro closed his eyes and rubbed at his temples. "It's really not a good time right now, Eiji-kun could you please leave?"

"My apologies," Eiji said even though he didn't really know what he was apologising for but that was basic courtesy. "You know," Eiji paused in leaving. "They're hoping that Yorukage-sama will refuse."

"I am aware," Komuro muttered, frowning yet again as he removed his blazer and loosened his tie so it wasn't so constricting. It was stiflign his mood. "Go to sleep, it's already so bright." Eiji bowed and retreated, closing the door quietly behind him.

Komuro rolled on his back and stared at the ceiling, starfished against his bed. He didn't like the thoughts running through his head, he didn't like how he was already in his last year of school. He shook his head, as if shaking the thoughts out of his head.

"I'll think about it later."

six: morning

"What are we to do?"

"You are an idiot, let's get him inside first!"

"Of course of course."

The two matrons of the orphanage had opened the door to find a practically frozen boy, around eight years old out there. He was still and thankfully, only unconscious and half frozen. They hauled him inside, one matron carrying him while the other hurried ahead to find a spare bed, hurriedly putting one of their only hot water bottles between the sheets and they settled him there.

"The poor thing," the older woman tittered, she was the one who had thought of the hot water bottle. The younger matron nodded awkwardly, sliding out of the room without the older woman noticing.

"You look just like he did," the matron by the name of Sachiko said, already developing a soft spot for the most likely an orphan lying in the sheets. She smoothed the boy's hair, only then noticing the paper stapled to his shirt. She carefully removed the staple, tucking the boy into the blankets so that he could warm up quicker before exiting, bringing the paper to the kitchen.

"What does it say?" the younger matron by the name of Mayumi asked, looking over her shoulder from the soup she was cooking. It was probably the first time that she had taken initiative and made something for the newcomer.

"It's just a list of what he likes and doesn't like," Sachiko quickly skimmed over it. "It must have been written by someone who wanted to help him but couldn't take him in theirselves. Oh what a poor boy."

Mayumi nodded. She was a young woman in her mid-thirties but after a car crash around ten years ago that claimed the life of her husband, her young children and rendered her unable to carry any more children, she turned to the orphanage. She was unexperienced but caring. Sachiko was a woman in her mid-fifties. She had never married, never had any children after her parents treated her horribly. So she vowed that she would save children who were lonely and lost. Both very noble reasons.

A few of the other staff had taken the children in the orphanage out for shopping and for some general fun. Another child was sick as well, currently sleeping in her bed. Sachiko stood up, ladling the soup that Mayumi had heated up into bowls and placing them on trays. "Come on, give that to Yuuko, I'll take this to our new boy."

When she opened the door, she saw that the boy was already up. "What's your name?" She asked kindly. The boy simply stared at her and she tried another question, setting the tray on the bedside table. "Alright then, do you remember your parents?"

"My father left and my mother is gone now," the boy replied quietly. Sachiko nodded, understanding. His situation wasn't one that was uncommon.

"Well then, drink some soup then we'll take a bath okay?" She said kindly, rejoicing inside when the boy nodded.

**************************************

"AKITOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

"Urgh...what?"

"WHY DID YOU LEAVE ME ALONE LAST NIGHT HUH?! WHY DID YOU SLACK OFF YOUR DUTIES?"

"I was sleepy. Geez Kei, lower your volume." Akito shot his adopted brother to death with one of his patented glares.

"Shutting up," Izumi Kei said meekly, miming pulling a zipper over his mouth. "Akito we have classes in five minutes and I find you sleeping in a stable with that wretches horse of yours. It's all gross and filled with bugs!"

Kuri swung her white head from chewing on the hay to glaring right at Kei with a glare just like Akito's. Kei shriked and instantly ran out of the stable, waiting outside. "Even your horse acts like you! Akito this is unhealthy!"

"Oh be quiet you," Akito said fondly, brushing off the hay as they started to walk back to the school grounds. But once they reached the pathway, Akito turned and headed straight for the Sun Dormitory, the dormitory for the Day Class students.

"Yah! Where are you going?" Kei asked, standing there while his brother walked away.

"To shower."

"But there's class now! Yah! Don't ignore me! Come back! Urgh," Kei grumbled, walking towards the school building in a bad mood. But then he realised that he was completely alone and he sped up walking, his paranoia that he was being watched growing with every second. He breathed a sigh of relief when he entered the brightly lit halls of the school.

He held onto a pillar, weak-kneed from his heart beating so fast during his little alone time. He wasn't normal, and he really shouldn't be acting like this, slapping his face a couple of times to 'snap back into it'. And then he looked at the clock.

"Oh crap I'm late. Nooooo I'm supposed to be a role model!" Kei said, running up the three flights of stairs and banging open the door. The students stared at him and the teacher actually dropped his whiteboard marker.

"Izumi Kei-san, would you like to explain to me why you are late?" His teacher, Nakamura-sensei frowned over the top of his glasses. Kei stood there panting for a good few seconds, gulping in air like he had been starved of it for years.

"I was at the stables...no not for the horses! Like because...you know what never mind, sorry sensei," Kei bowed and his teacher nodded, gesturing to his seat. Kei gratefully bowed and thanked the teacher for not giving him detention, unpacking his stuff for another day of learning.

seven: noon

"Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday dear my baby! Happy birthday to you!" A woman was the only one singing, a smile on her face. The man was busy taking photos of the little six year old boy who stood on his chair, grinning happily at the cake and at the camera. The litle boy's older brother, an eleve year old was going through that phase where he was too embarrassed to do anything, for example singing. But he still wore a bright smile and was devouring the ake with his eyes.

"Make a wish sweetie," the woman said, evidently the boy's mother. The little boy nodded with a big smile, clasping his hands together and closing his eyes tightly. He then opened them a few seconds later...and failed in blowing out the candles.

"Here I'll do it," the brother said, blowing out half of them. The little boy laughed in delight at the flickering flames, and with their combined efforts, they managed to blow them all out. Their mother smiled at the cute scene that her two sons made and the father had taken a video.

"Well then son," the father said, handing the camera over to the woman. "Let's cut the cake." He took out a small knife, metal but small and he positioned the blade over the cake, the little boy putting his hand over his father's hand. They cut slowly together, slicing through the cream and the jam and the fruit and the sponge.

And then... "You touched the bottom! You have to kiss the nearest girl!" The boy's older brother yelled, pointing at the place where, indeed, the knife was now resting on the carboard bottom.

"Okay then," the boy said, jumping over the chairs until he was standing on the one right in front of his mother. He shyly leaned up and placed a peck on his mother's cheek, his mother leaning down to easily aid the boy's quest. After his lips left her cheek, he squealed in embarrassment, and mother laughing as she lifted the boy up and started blowing raspberries on his arms and stomach, before showering her youngest son's face with kisses.

"Ewww, mum!" Her older son pulled a face, and she set down her birthday boy and started to advance on the other boy.

"Why, are you asking for it?" She said, mockingly menacing, starting to chase her son as he ran around the house. The birthday boy watched the actions with a huge smile and clapped his small hands together. While he was laughing his father seized the opportunity, shoving a spoonful of cake right into the boy's mouth. 

"is it good?" The man asked, eating a spoonful himself.

"Yep!" The boy grinned opening his mouth for more.

Later that day, his mother tucked him into bed with a kiss on his forehead. "Sleep tight my baby," she whispered fondly, smoothing his hair down, and though the boy was asleep, he moved and a smile appeared on his face.

He should have woken up. If only he had known what would have happened as well that night.

*************************************

"So for the spring festival next week, it's been decided that our class will be doing a traditional Japanese cafe."

"Boo!"

"That's boring!"

"Change change change!"

"Can we make it a dress-up cafe?"

"Dress up dress up dress up dress up..." the students started chanting, banging their hands against the table and stomping their feet agaisnt the ground in a synchronised war cry.

The boy standing at the front of the classroom flushed in flusteredness. He started flicking the pen that he held in his hand, transferring it from one finger to another to another. "Okay okay!" He finally gave in. "I'll speak to them about a dress up cafe. But it has to be related to spring!"

"Of course Kin-chan!" The students of the senior class chorused, mentally high-fiving each other for getting yet another thing turned to their will. Yasuhiro Kin breathed a sign of exasperation, finally getting to sit down, having given his class president speech.

"Thank you Kin-san," Watanabe-sensei nodded, a middle-aged woman with years of teaching experience. "Now, let's return to our lessons. Today we will be starting logarithmic functions. 'e' is known as the natural number, log base e of x will become lnx. Why? Here is the proof..."

Kin picked up a pencil and started hurriedly scribbling down the equations that the teacher was putting up on the board. "Good job Kin," his best friend said, both of them not looking away from their work.

"Thanks Mir. Would a dress up cafe really be more interesting?" Kin asked worriedly.

"Honestly? Yea, a traditional Japanese cafe is a bit of a snooze," Chulyoung, or more commonly known as Mir chuckled, frowning at the equation on his page. "Yah, Kin I don't get this."

Kin took the Mir's maths book, looking over the lines of working before shaking his head. "Sorry I don't know. Ask sensei." Mir shrugged, putting up his hand.

Kin thought about the dress up idea. It wasn't all that bad now that he thought about it. Either that or the class had won him over...again.

eight: afternoon

"We stand here today to mourn the loss of a loved one. She was a beautiful woman who contributed greatly to the community, and her loss will be felt heavily by all of the community. Let us have a prayer," the priest said, dressed in funeral attired and bowing his head. The people in the church bowed their heads to, some sobbing, the sounds of cries echoing silently throught he hall.

At the very front of the hall sat the deceased's family. A young boy of six, and a young girl of eleven. Both of their faces were tear-streaked, eyes puffy and red and hands shakingly clutching tissues.

"Where's father?" the little boy asked, voice soft and cracking in places. It was a funeral for their mother, a gentle and kind woman whose photo stood at the head of the coffin. She lay inside, eyes closed, dressed in her favourite blue gown, hair soft around her and the coffin filled with her favourite flower, white roses.

"Shush," his older sister said quietly, dabbing at her eyes as a new wave of tears emerged everytime she looked at her mother's still form, surrounded by hard, unforgiving wood.

"Where's father? Tell me where he is!" the boy said, the words coming out harsher than he intended. The tears that sprang into his sister's eyes were partly from grief, partly from hurt at her little brother's words.

He winced at her pain but said nothing, anger swirling inside him. HIs wife was gone and he couldn't even take the time out of his 'busy' schedule to attend her funeral? Tears blurred his vision. How could his father treat his mother like that? Refusing to attend her funeral, to honour her memory?

"I hate father," the boy growled angrily, fists clenched by his sides, eyes focused on his lap. He would not sully his mother's memory by looking directly at her. Time passed quietly and soon the people around him were standing up, waiting in a line to offer their condolences to the deceased's family. He simply stood there and glared at the floor, occasionally dabbing at his eyes with a tissue. His older sister thanked the people for coming and accepted their hugs and kind words.

They stood there in the silent hall afterwards, the ground covered in white rose petals. The priest came and offered condolences before leaving as well. They had a short while to say their goodbyes to their mother before the coffin would be sealed and lowered into the ground.

"Mum," the boy said, kneeling by the coffin next to her head. "I love you. You don't deserve to be in this coffin. Why did the gods decide to take a life like yours away from this earth? Mum please," he cried, tears streaming down his face. "Please don't be dead. You're just sleeping right? You'll just walk out of here and be like 'April fools' won't you? Mum, please mum...mum."

He stood up, wiped his tears and allowed his older sister to pull him into a hug. It should be his father doing this. His siter was only eleven, she shouldn't be taking care of him, she should be taken care of by their father. He hated him.

******************************

"And the average in this class for this test was seventy percent. I know," Nakamura-sensei nodded. "It was a difficult test. But only one person got full marks...Yamasaki Ryou!"

Ryou stood up with the polite, weary claps of his classmates. It was only the beginning of the year and already, just like last year, Ryou was acing every single exam.

"Wow Ryou that's amazing," Kei said, staring at the big 100 at the front of his best friend's paper and then at the dismal 67 on his. "How on earth did you do that? When do you sleep?"

"Never," Ryou said quietly. It was a joke, even though it was delivered in such a way but Kei understood. Kei always understood and he laughed, clapping Ryou on the shoulder.

"Ah you're hilarious. Okay, how did you do this question?" Kei opened up the test paper, turning it right to the end and pointing at question six of Part B. Ryou read the question before nodding and opening his own booklet. Kei read it and looked up even more confused with all the scientific language that Ryou had used.

"You understand that mitosis is the splitting of a cell correct?" Ryou asked, and Kei nodded so he continued. "The first phase is interphase where the chromosomes become visible. This looks like a ball of wool. Then the chromosomes split, prophase. They line up in the middle, metaphase. Then centrioles migrate to the poles of the cell and spindles attach to the centromeres and the chromosomes are pulled apart from each other, anaphase. Then the cytoplasm splits, cytokinesis. Then telophase where the nuclear membrane reappears. Then you have two daughter cells."

"What."

"It's very simple, anyone could get it," Ryou said. He unconciously implied that Kei was dumb and though kei winced at that, he said nothing because he understood that Ryou hadn't done it on purpose. "If you were smart you would understand it."

Kei sighed, turning to Ryou. "That wasn't very nice."

"Oh...I'm sorry," Ryou said softly, bowing his head.

"Hey hey hey! It's all good! Cheer up giant, I know you didn't mean it," Kei grinned, turning back to the front where Nakamura-sensei was going through the test. Ryou said nothing but let his mind drift as he didn't need to listen to the teacher. He really needed to fix that habit of his.