Disclaimer: I do not own Vampire Knight. That lovely story belongs to Matsuri Hino. I am merely writing this fanfiction for enjoyment and the only thing I own is the concept and plot for this story.

Beginning Note: Thanks for taking the time to click on this story and check it out! I hope you enjoy this first chapter!

P E N – O N E
How did I become a shell of the past?

"Sir, I'm sorry to say this but there's been a malfunction."

The voice on the intercom produced no change in Takuma's outward demeanor. The smile on his face shined as bright as day. His green eyes glowed with fervor and enthusiasm. Behind the facade, however, the vampire was sighing in exasperation. He should have known a malfunction would happen. He should have expected a large amount of stress in his day's – or rather night's – horoscope. He should have seen it coming when the day went by so smoothly. He had gotten to work and found his desk free of documents to sign and approve. He had received a call canceling the dreaded Council of Elders meeting he had to attend. He had even managed to catch up on much needed sleep. His days were never that easy.

But he only wished the stress would come early in the night – when he had all the energy in the world – instead at two in the morning when he was dead, tired, and in desperate anxiety to return home. It seemed life always wanted to be especially difficult just for him.

He bit his lip but kept up the mask of joy. "What type of malfunction?"

"We might need to recall some of the products shipped out."

His hands clenched onto the armrest of his chair. It was getting a lot harder to force a smile on his face. He didn't even understand why he was putting on an act. It wasn't like his secretary could see him. She was talking with him on the phone.

"Oh really?" His voice kept its usual light tone. "For what products?"

"The tablets."

"What tablets? We sell a lot of different tablets."

"The blood tablets, sir."

Oh damn it. He took in a deep breath and tried to control his voice. Fortunately, none of the venom present in his thoughts showed in his tenor. He sounded like he normally did – sickeningly bright.

"What happened with the blood tablets?"

"One of our workers accidentally pricked his finger while preparing the tablets. Some of his blood got into the mixture."

Oh hell. The night was just getting worse by the second. He imagined the malfunction would have been something as simple as broken machinery. But blood in the blood tablets? Whatever god playing with his fate must have been having a burst of inspiration right at the moment. It took a lot of creativity to think up of a complication like that. He would applaud said god for ingenuity if he wasn't the one suffering for it.

"Um, Ichijou-san? What should I do?"

While his secretary sounded cool and collective before, she now seemed nervous. His prolonged silence must have caused her anxiety. She was probably wondering if he would suck her dry as punishment or enact some other form of punishment. She didn't have to worry. If he was going to suck anybody dry, it would be the god controlling his life.

"Issue the recall order then," he finally said after deciding the next course of action. "I want to make sure that all the contaminated blood tablets are collected before a riot occurs or something of the like. I'd like to stay away from Hunter Association intervention if I can."

"Hai, sir."

"And also, don't reveal why these blood tablets are being recalled. I'd rather not get anxious phone calls from other higher powers."

"As you wish, Ichijou-san."

The intercom beeped announcing the end of the call. Takuma groaned and leaned back on his chest. Looking up at the ceiling, he questioned if there would ever be a day when he could relax. When he could just close his eyes and enjoy life. Ever since his grandfather got murdered by Kaname – or as everybody liked to say it, properly executed for his crimes – his very existence had become draining. Lumped with the job of leading the newly formed Council of Elders, Takuma found no time to breathe. It didn't help that he also had to manage his family's companies. He had become a hermit, obsessed with work and only work. He couldn't remember the last time he actually talked with his old friends, the vampires he attended Cross Academy with for his high school years.

There was only one source of joy left for him. He prayed that he would have time to partake in that hobby later in the morning.

His cell phone rang, awaking him from his reveries. He shot up from his chair and grabbed it. Placing the phone by his ears, he answered the call.

"Ichijou Takuma, moshi-moshi."

"Hello," a soft voice spoke from the speakers. "This is Fukui Izumi, your marketing consultant. I bring you great news, Ichijou-san."

"Really?" Takuma asked. He put on his normal grin again. It was easier to sound eccentric when he acted as if he was truly jolly. "Great! I need to hear something uplifting right now."

"Work troubles, sir?"

"As usual."

A chuckle could be heard from the other line. "Well, you'll be happy to know that I was able to find the two models you were looking for."

Takuma brightened at the news. He had been searching for models willing to sign a contract with his PR company, Miracle Capella – one of the many divisions that his company, Miracle Ltd., operated in. It was a hard process. Most models preferred to work under their agencies' terms and the agencies rarely agreed to an exclusive contract. Izumi Fukui, however, was a master at her job; she always got her client's wishes completed. He never doubted she would accomplish the mission. The only question was who she got.

"Who are the models?" he asked.

"They are one of the most popular models in Japan," Izumi explained, "and they're becoming very celebrated in the world, too. They're the power duo of all models, loved and acclaimed for their beauty. And the great part is, they're vampires, too. So no problem about keeping that secret."

"Okay, okay," Takuma interrupted the consultant's spiel. "I get it. They're really good models. But who they are?"

"You won't believe this. You'll squeal when you hear their names."

"I get it, Fukui-san. Please just tell me the names."

"I got you Senri Shiki and Rima Touya."

The names registered in Takuma's mind. The models sounded familiar. In an instant, images of the two's appearances in ads flashed through his mind. They were very celebrated models. For the past few years, they had been featured in famous magazines. They had been interviewed by the most popular entertainment stations. They had been awarded several different honors for their work. Apparently, the two started in high school and unlike most models, they had been able to maintain their popularity well into their adulthood. Izumi had made a good choice – brilliant, in fact. He beamed at the prospect at having the two working for him.

"You've really outdone yourself, Fukui-san. You really have."

"I always do."

Takuma leaned back on his chair at that comment. He could imagine the woman grinning triumphantly as she said those words. The thought made his smile grow larger.

"So I emailed you pictures of the two and some of their work," Izumi continued to say. "Some pictures to let you get a gauge of what to expect from them. Afterwards, we can just schedule a meeting for them to discuss the contract with you and we'll be set and done."

"Perfect. I'll take a look at the images before I leave work. And I'll talk to you tomorrow about scheduling the meeting with them."

With those words, he ended the call. Taking his phone, he quickly connected to the Internet and accessed his email. As Izumi said, there was an email from her containing several attached photos. He pulled up several. When he scrolled down to look at one image, he felt his heart stop.

On his phone's screen was a beautiful image of a man and woman. Both were dressed in evening wear. The man wore a tuxedo with a red tie that brought out his brownish-red hair. The woman wore a dark blue dress matching her equally blue eyes. They stood on a balcony staring at the stars which were actually diamonds. The man held in his hand a black box containing diamond ring. The woman was decked in various jewelry, all made from glittering diamonds. It was an advertisement for a jewelry company, stunning and bound to catch anybody's eye. But what captured Takuma's attention the most was how familiar the models appeared.

Though he had some memory of what Senri Shiki and Rima Touya looked like, his memory was hazy. He had only seen them in magazines or the television and all of those glances were passing ones, brief and without a care. But now as he scrutinized their image, he felt a sense of déjà vu gazing upon their features. The fine eyebrows, the blank expressions, the whole personas – everything felt familiar. He had met them before in a more personal way. But the only question was where?

He ran different hypotheses through his mind. Maybe he once ran into them in one of his parties and soirees. Maybe he had passed them in the street without knowing. Maybe they ate at a restaurant where he frequented. Another thought came to him but he felt dread and doubt with it. Maybe he had known them when he was in high school. Maybe they were members of the Night Class.

It would make sense. The two were vampires – influential ones, too – and the Night Class contained only noble vampires of high standings. And it wouldn't be peculiar that he forgot about them. He had forgotten mostly everything about his teenage years. His old friends, his old hobbies, his old life, nothing remained within his heart. Years of working and partaking in as little social activities as possible – except for required socials and meetings – had made him become a recluse. The only thing from his past was Kaname Kuran, who he still met. But that friendship was hardly as strong as before and he mostly saw the pureblood to conduct business concerning the Council. Everything else had disappeared from his thoughts. He was a shell of the vampire he once was.

Takuma continued to look through the photos. All the pictures were nice representations of Shiki's and Touya's work. They were definitely marvelous models. There was no reason why he would deny the opportunity of working with them. Having the two as models for his Miracle Capella would bring much more potential customers.

The office phone rang. A beeping red light indicated his secretary was messaging him. He pressed the required button and his secretary's voice filtered in through the intercom.

"Ichijou-san," she said, "I have launched the recall news to newspapers and news stations. I've also called our distributors to send the message."

"Good," he answered. He didn't care to put on an act of cheerfulness. He was starting to become tired from his work and excessive ponderings.

"Is there anything else you want me to do, sir?"

"No. You may retire for the day."

"Hai."

He ended the call and leaned back on his chair. He ran his hands through his blonde hair and groaned. His phone was thrown back on his desk, the image of the two models disappearing from his view. Closing his eyes, he wished he could return to his past. He wondered if he could go back and make a different decision – choose a different path, a path where he was happier. Where he wasn't so lost and dissatisfied.

SoH

When Takuma arrived home, the sun was close to being blindingly bright. He closed the shutters of all his windows before dragging his feet to bed. He cast a longing glance at his work room. Before he could stop himself, his feet led him to the room and he peered inside. His work table was in pristine condition as it always was. He felt an urge to start working on the new layouts again but he decided against it. It was close to morning, he was tired, and there was no way he was going to forego sleep. The layouts could be finished later. He just had to go a day without working on his greatest joy.

Instead he slinked off to bed. Not bothering to shower or even change out of his clothes, he fell back onto his bed. He pulled at his tie to loosen it and unbuttoned a few buttons on his shirt – all to prevent constriction when he was asleep. Snuggling into his warm sheets, he closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.

It wasn't one of those difficult mornings, those mornings where he tossed and turned until he settled down. His mind easily hazed. His senses dimmed. In a few minutes, he blacked out.

SoH

The phone rang.

The blaring of the rings forced Takuma up. He blinked. The sun was exceedingly bright suggesting it was near noon. He stared at his cell phone. Did he really need to answer the call? He was still tired and he wasn't really a morning person any longer. While he used to enjoy the sun, he shirked away from it recently. The ringing continued. Takuma shook his head and fell onto his bed again. The call probably wasn't that important. With the decision made, he ignored his phone and returned to sleep. The ringing stopped. He sighed in contentment as the cacophony ended. The ringing started again.

This time, he sat up. It was clear whoever was calling wouldn't stop bothering him until he answered. With a groan, he reached for the phone and answered it.

"Ichijou Takuma, moshi-moshi," he managed to drawl out.

"Takuma, I sometimes do intensely wish that you'd go to hell!"

The shout pierced Takuma's ears. He brought the phone away from his ear and blinked at the phone. Did he just hear the person correctly? Or was he being delusional?

"What?" he muttered in confusion.

"You drive me crazy sometimes, you know!" the speaker continued to ran out. "I wonder if I ever did something to you in our past lives for you to cause me such stress and suffering. What? Did I kill your entire family or something?"

Takuma stared at his caller ID. Everything clicked in his mind as he saw the name on the phone's screen. He was talking with Katsuro Wakahisa, the editor of ReMi, the popular monthly shojo magazine. The man always managed to be hysterical, especially around Takuma.

Knowing this, he rolled his eyes. His confusion and distress at the caller's words washed away. Katsuro's rants were an added bonus with being friends with the man. Takuma had nothing to worry about.

"What did I do now, Katsuro?"

"What did you do?" Katsuro's volume was rising by the syllable. Takuma winced at how deafening it was. "What did you do? You've started a pandemonium, Takuma!"

"Eh?" Takuma processed the words but he didn't understand what the man was saying. Katsuro was speaking gibberish. Maybe it would have helped if Takuma wasn't so fatigued.

"That ending of yours!" Katsuro shrieked. "I told you we shouldn't have run it. Why the hell did you have to make it so damn bloody? I'm looking through the pages right now and I don't remember seeing this much blood when I was approving the edits."

"Oh that?" Takuma asked. He shrugged though the editor couldn't see him. "I felt there wasn't enough blood so before I sent the copies to the publisher, I just added a bit more. I still don't think there's enough."

"There wasn't enough blood? There wasn't enough blood! Takuma, if you added one more drop of blood, we'd have to file the story under a 'Mature' rating rather than the 'Teen' rating it's getting right now!"

"How did my story just skip the 'Older Teen' rating?"

"Now isn't the time to joke," Katsuro seethed.

Katsuro was clearly furious. Takuma could see the man growing red and jumping up and down as he always did when he was angry. Katsuro was probably pulling on his black hair and glaring daggers at the phone right now. Normally, Takuma would try to calm the man down through persuasion but he was too tired to tread the dangerous waters carefully.

"I don't really get what you're trying to tell me," he said.

"What I'm trying to tell you," Katsuro said enunciating every word, "is that you've angered all of your fans with Sky Requiem's blasted ending!"

"Eh?"

"The ending, Takuma," Katsuro repeated. "The ending where you killed off every single lovable character. I knew it. I knew the ending was a bad idea. We should have done something else. Now, my bosses are giving me hell for what happened. And the fans are giving me hell, too!"

Somehow, Takuma's mind was able to register the gravity of the situation. He became alert and hung onto Katsuro's every word. He gripped his bed sheets.

"What happened?" he asked.

"All of our readership read the ending and are freaking out right now," his editor explained. "I'm receiving angry emails right now. I've forwarded all of them to you."

"Wait a minute!"

Takuma shot onto his feet and ran into his study. Turning on the computer, he tapped on the computer impatiently. Come on. Hurry up. Finally, the computer loaded up. He logged on, accessed the Internet, and signed into his email. His inbox was filled with hundreds of emails – all forwarded by his editor, all written by his fans. He warily selected one email.

What met his eyes was a long line of all caps writing and exclamation marks. His eyes skimmed through the writing. Several curse words caught his attention. But he noticed other words. Words like heartless, cruel, insane, and spiteful.

He looked through the other emails. All of them bore the same message and tone. All shared the emotion of anger.

He arrived at one particular nasty email. Though it bore no curse words – the swearing being filtered by dashes – it was clear how furious the writer was.

Dear WAKE, it read. You are such a -! Why did you have to kill off all my favorite characters? Masaki and Hiroshi should have ended up together, gotten married, and lived happily ever after. But then you killed the protagonists. You killed the destined lovers. And you didn't just kill them. You tore them apart and massacred them. Have you no - heart? Did a man rip your - heart into shreds that you are unable to have any compassion? Go to -! I used to love your stories. I've been a fan of you ever since you published your first manga. I loved you so much that I even ignored the fact that you never wrote a happy ending for your stories. But those tragic endings made sense. This was just plain ridiculous. You've destroyed my faith in mangakas, you -. Wishing you were dead, A Loyal Fan

Takuma winced at the message. Every word felt like a shard running through his heart. He placed his phone back to his ear.

"Katsuro, I've read a few of the emails," he whispered.

"Now do you understand?" Katsuro asked. "Now do you understand what you've done, Takuma? Or should I say, WAKE?"

A/N: To be honest, I felt out of my element writing this first chapter. The genres of my stories are very different than the genre for this one. Also, my first chapter (or rather prologue) usually involves murder and clearly this one doesn't really have any of that – unless you count the murder of some manga characters Takuma created. With that in mind… what do you think? And did I portray Takuma okay?

Thanks for reading this! Reviews are much appreciated and will be cherished forevermore.