Chapter Text
𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕻𝖆𝖙𝖍 𝖔𝖋 𝖆 𝕱𝖚𝖙𝖚𝖗𝖊 𝕶𝖎𝖓𝖌
What sets Kyojuro apart from common vampires is his ability to resist being easily swayed by his biology. A future king must not succumb to his lowest instincts, nor reduce himself to a mindless, bloodthirsty creature. His father had made that crystal clear every single night he locked him away in that dark room.
It was difficult at first. His blood-stained mouth would pant over that massive, juicy slab of meat. Its metallic taste bore the heavy print of disappointment. And he didn't know what was worse: the fact that this was his only meal in days, or that his father would once again tell him the truth:
“You will never be worthy of protecting them.”
His mother would comfort him at noon. She would rest his head upon her lap and, in quiet whispers, remind him of the strength coursing through his veins.
Over time, he stopped going to her. He was determined that the next time she looked at him, he wouldn't be covered in bruises or trembling from withdrawal. Despite the ache of his own fangs tearing forcefully through his gums—pressing against his jaw, dripping with raw need—he never yielded.
The heavy doors groaned open with the dawn, but the long shadow stretching from his back didn't even flinch.
Shinjuro waited a few seconds before calling out to his son, but Kyojuro’s eyes were already open, fixed on him. The air trapped beneath tons of concrete vibrated with a supernatural hum, and that crimson gaze reflected a fire that hadn't been there months ago.
Without haste, Kyojuro stood up. Even on a body so lean and starved of nourishment, his legs held firm. There were no tremors.
“Good morning, Father,” he greeted vehemently, but the king did not move.
Barefoot, Kyojuro approached the cattle lowing at daybreak. He unlocked the floor grate and pulled the chains with care, passing right beside his father.
“They must be thirsty,” he murmured as he herded them, the beasts pressing against his torso as they moved away.
His laughter was swallowed by the wind and the distance.
Shinjuro looked back at the claw marks that for months had gnawed at the concrete, desperate and frantic. And in the silence, he smiled.
There went the future king of vampires.