The Draco family home buzzed with the warm hum of laughter and chatter, the air thick with the aroma of roasted meats and spices. The dining table was a chaotic masterpiece of clinking plates, steaming dishes, and lively conversation. Yet, amidst the vibrant energy, Itami sat motionless, his fork hovering over his plate as his mind drifted far away.
The sounds around him—Misaki's cheerful scolding, Akuma's boisterous laughter, the clatter of dishes—faded into a distant hum. All he could hear was the echo of two words, pounding in his skull like a drum:
Requiem... Alpha.
Over and over, the words looped in his mind, drowning out the world around him. His grip tightened on his fork, knuckles whitening as the ringing grew louder.
"Itami!" Kaze's voice cut through the haze, accompanied by a firm shake of his shoulder. "Hey, you alright? You've been spacing out a lot recently. You're starting to freak me out."
Itami blinked, the world snapping back into focus. He glanced at Kaze, who was leaning over him, a mix of concern and amusement etched on his face.
"Yeah, I'm good," Itami muttered, forcing a weak smile. He shoved a forkful of shredded pork into his mouth, the flavor barely registering.
"Your food's gonna get cold if you keep zoning out like that, Itami," Misaki chimed in, her tone light but laced with maternal concern. She was busy serving Akuma a whole roasted chicken, its golden-brown skin glistening under the dining room lights.
Akuma's eyes widened as the massive platter landed in front of him. "Whoa, Tūtū, are you trying to stuff me like a turkey? I already ate a mountain of food!" he protested, though his hands were already tearing into a chicken leg with gusto.
Misaki brandished her wooden spoon like a sword, cutting off any further complaints. "You're all still growing," she said firmly, her gaze sweeping over the table. She pointed the spoon at Itami, who was merely picking at his food. "Look at you—skin and bones! You need to eat more if you're going to keep up with your training."
Across from him, Lyra leaned forward with a grin, resting her chin on her palm. "Maybe he's too busy daydreaming about someone special to bother with food," she teased. "Care to share?"
Itami blinked, caught off guard. "I'm not daydreaming that much," he said defensively, though his voice lacked conviction. "I've just got a lot on my mind right now."
Lyra rolled her eyes, though there was a flicker of hesitation in them. "Yeah, sure. Like what? How to be even more oblivious?" she muttered, but there was no real bite to her words.
Beside her, Yukiko set her teacup down and smiled softly. "I think it's nice that Itami is so thoughtful," she said, her gentle voice cutting through the tension. "He's always looking out for everyone, even if he doesn't say much."
Itami's heart swelled at her words. He gave her a small, grateful smile. Her calm, kind demeanor always had a way of grounding him, even when his mind was a mess. "Thanks, Yukiko," he said quietly, barely above a whisper.
Lyra's eyes narrowed slightly. She leaned back, arms crossed, but her fingers clenched the fabric of her sleeve. "Oh, so Yukiko gets a 'thank you,' but I get ignored? Typical," she huffed, trying to sound playful.
Kaze smirked, twirling his chopsticks between his fingers. "Don't mind Lyra, Itami. She's just jealous because you're not daydreaming about her," he teased.
Lyra's face flushed, and she shot Kaze a glare. "Shut it, Kaze. You're one to talk, Mr. 'I'm-too-cool-to-care.'"
Akuma, meanwhile, was laughing so hard he nearly choked. "This is better than a soap opera!" he wheezed, pounding the table with his fist.
Kaze leaned back in his chair. "You're hopeless, man," he said to Itami. He glanced at Akuma, who was grinning like a cat that got the cream. "What do you think, Akuma? Should we start taking bets on how long it'll take him to figure it out?"
Akuma chuckled, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "Oh, I'm already ten steps ahead of you. I give it... three months, minimum. Maybe six if Lyra keeps being all tsundere about it."
Kaze raised an eyebrow, his smirk growing. "Three months? You're being generous. I'm saying a year, easy. Itami's denser than a black hole."
Itami, ignoring the teasing, took a sip of his tea—only to notice Lyra glaring daggers at both Akuma and Kaze.
"Would you two knock it off?!" she snapped, though her cheeks were tinged pink. "It's not funny!"
Yukiko, ever the peacemaker, smiled softly and turned to them. "I think you're both being a little unfair," she said, her tone playful yet firm. "Itami's just... focused on other things right now."
Akuma leaned toward Yukiko, his grin widening. "Aw, Yukiko, are you defending him? Don't tell me you're starting to fall for his 'clueless charm' too."
Yukiko's cheeks turned pink, and she shook her head with a soft laugh. "I'm just saying you should give him a break," she said, though her smile didn't fade.
Kaze snorted. "Yeah, sure. Meanwhile, Lyra's over there ready to strangle him, and he's still clueless. Classic."
Lyra groaned, slumping back in her chair. "Ugh, you're all impossible," she muttered, but her gaze lingered on Itami for a second too long.
Itami barely noticed.
The words still echoed in his mind.
Requiem... Alpha.
Then, a sharp SNAP.
Itami looked down, realizing he had snapped his fork in two. He quickly covered the broken utensil with a napkin before standing up. "It's getting late. I have classes tomorrow. Thank you, Tūtū, for the food. It was delicious."
Before anyone could protest, he left the room.
Yukiko's brows furrowed as she watched him disappear down the hall. "He's been like this a lot lately..." she murmured.
Lyra clenched her fists in her lap, but she didn't say a word.
Akuma and Kaze exchanged glances, their earlier amusement fading.
Yukiko reached out, gently taking Lyra's hand. She gave it a reassuring squeeze. "It's okay. Let's go and try to talk to him."
Before Lyra could move, Akuma let out a sigh, setting his cup down with a dull clink. "Don't bother," he muttered, taking a slow sip of his tea.
Lyra whipped her head toward him, scowling. "Why not?! You see that he needs someone to talk to! If not us, then who?" Her voice cracked slightly.
Akuma lowered his cup, his usually carefree demeanor hardening. "For someone who has feelings for him, you sure don't know anything about him," he said flatly. "Even after all this time."
Lyra's breath hitched. Embarrassment burned in her chest. Her hands clenched into fists.
"That's enough," Yukiko interjected, her voice firm. She glanced between them, calm but unwavering. "Fighting won't help Itami."
She exhaled. "Sometimes, when you're carrying too much, it's easier to hold it in than to let people see."
For a moment, silence.
Misaki folded her hands on the table. "Did you forget? It's almost that time of year again."
The air shifted, heavy with understanding.
Yukiko lowered her gaze.
"Even if we want to help... sometimes, the best thing we can do is wait."
Later that night...
The cold night air bit at Itami's skin, but he barely felt it. His breath curled in the frigid air as he walked, each step crunching against the dead leaves. The world around him was silent—unnaturally so.
He stopped in his tracks, tilting his head toward the full moon. Its pale glow cast long, ghostly shadows over the ruined landscape, painting the world in eerie silver.
Then, it started again.
That ringing.
At first, it was nothing more than a distant hum—like the slow, deliberate chime of a temple bell, whispering at the edges of his mind. But it grew louder, relentless, clawing its way into his skull.
He gritted his teeth, forcing himself forward.
The path led him through the shattered remains of a once-grand gate, its charred wood barely clinging together. The Wyvern Clan's crest, once a proud emblem, now hung limply among the ruins—battered, burned, barely recognizable.
His steps carried him deeper. Past what used to be homes, now reduced to blackened husks. Fields that once stretched with vibrant grass and flowers were nothing more than scorched earth, stripped of life.
And then—
He arrived.
His home stood untouched. A traditional Japanese house, its wooden frame standing resilient against the destruction surrounding it. But something about it felt... wrong.
As he reached the entrance, the ringing in his ears spiked.
Requiem. Alpha. Delta.
The words slammed into him like a shockwave. A sharp, searing pain cracked through his skull. His knees buckled. His vision blurred. His breath came in short, ragged gasps.
And then-
Screams.
Women. Children. Voices laced with terror, overlapping in a cacophony of horror.
His pulse pounded. His fingers dug into his temples as the scene played out in his mind.
Flashes of movement. Shadows twisting against roaring flames.
Then—
Silence.
The world around him dissolved into an endless abyss. No sound. No movement. Just a void stretching infinitely in all directions.
A flicker of red.
Itami turned, his breath catching in his throat.
Two massive, glowing eyes pierced through the darkness. Watching. Studying. Judging.
Then, a voice. Deep. Ancient. Undeniable.
"You are weak."
The sheer force of the words sent tremors through his body. His legs threatened to buckle, but he refused to fall.
"Who... are you?" he managed to choke out.
A low chuckle reverberated through the void, ancient and knowing.
"You already know who I am."
Something slithered forward—a black mass, viscous and shifting like living tar. It coiled and twisted, shapeless at first.
Then it lunged.
Itami recoiled as the darkness latched onto him, coiling around his limbs like burning chains. He thrashed, clawing at it, but it only went in deeper.
It wasn't just binding him—it was sinking into him.
The red eyes narrowed.
"You deny me... yet you cannot escape me. You carry my power, my rage. I am the fire in your blood, the darkness within you.
"We. Are. One."
Then Fire.
Black flames erupted from within.
It tore through his veins, searing, consuming, devouring. His skin cracked—fractured like breaking porcelain. Deep black scales shimmered beneath the surface.
The air thickened, heavy with power. With fear.
Itami gritted his teeth, forcing himself to stand tall. "I... I'm nothing like you. You are evil incarnate."
A deep laugh echoed through the void, rolling like distant thunder.
The dark mass contorted, stretching upward. The dark mass took form.
A person. No a reflection.
Itami's own body stood before him. Identical in every way—except for its eyes. They burned red.
Looking in the copy's eyes, he saw black flames.
Devouring everything. Homes reduced to cinders. His own hands—dripping with blood.
A roar. Primal. Unrelenting. Full of wrath.
And then—
Nothing.
Itami blinked. The reflection was gone. The black mass melted into him.
His breathing was erratic, his chest rising and falling in sharp, uneven bursts.
A final whisper curled into his thoughts.
Deny me all you want... but when the time comes, you will surrender.We will become one.
The abyss collapsed.
Darkness shattered.
Itami's eyes snapped open.
His body jerked upright, drenched in sweat. His chest heaved. His hands trembled, fingers still curled as if trying to claw something away. His arms full of scratches.
But he was alone.
Back in his room.
The only sound was his own ragged breathing.
But deep in his soul he knew.
The dragon was still watching.
Waiting.