The Prince
In the actions of men, and especially of Princes, from which there is no appeal, the end justifies the means. —Machiavelli (1537).
Sometimes, heredity doesn't determine everything. Sometimes, the genes are bad inherently and the "dynasty" is destined to fall before it even begins. And sometimes (along came the way) there is a mishap.
Only idiots believed in ethnic cleansing (Kyouya thought) but the real trick of the trade, of getting ahead and fastidiously reducing the enemy to nothing is by chance. (He makes his own fortune.)
There are no survivors. Ever. An enemy is better off dead because the dead did not speak and the dead did not retaliate. The dead caused him no problems with their peasant airs of sophistication and intelligence.
For the Ootori family, a name is only perfect on paper. And any value the name implies can be bought by skin or bound cloth.
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His mother was shocked to find herself pregnant again. Her previous three children had been failures, as were she and everyone else (except the father who placed himself on a god-throne).
She debated over breaking the news to her husband (stranger) and came up with a clever idea. She simply won't say a word, and when—if—he asked, she would feign surprise.
They were brilliant at that. Pretenses and veneers unified their family like sticky glue on velvet.
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This baby is going to be troublesome.
The mother searches frantically for the last piece of the puzzle and notes its peculiar shape. She sighs and pieces it in place.
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Throughout elementary and secondary school, he did well—exceptionally well. Better than his brother (and certainly the sister) combined. And so, the father was mollified at the unexpected turn of luck and fortune.
And thought that maybe this one is flawless.
And thought that maybe he will actually be of some use.
(But lately, he—father and "aging king"—finds himself at loss over the future and wonders if he is losing his mind.)
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Kyouya starts his life the day his brothers' end.
They were fools and had it coming he tells himself. They deserved to be bested (this is a game of politics and war, after all). And when father announced him as the sole heir and eventual president, CEO, etc., it came as predicted.
Kyouya is pleased and condescends to smile (gloat) and watch, intrigued, as horror and hesitation flood his brothers' faces.
(Fuyumi is lucky to be a girl and already married off to a rich man.)
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Reporters (pathetic) and acquaintances (obsequious) constantly pester him on how he came to power. How a fourth child—third son at that—managed to defeat his brothers (burn them alive) and become a meteoric sensation (their term, not his).
And Kyouya would smile back kindly and say: it was just a matter of luck and chance. Because after three consecutive failures in genius-making, the fourth comes to create his own genius.
(He stands graciously to receive the applause.)