Reality reflects the world as one appears to gaze through perspective, opinion, and hope. Everyone hopes for a certain miracle, a certain truth, or a certain expectation. Everyone wants to possess what they deserve, or what they think they deserve. Unfortunately, reality cannot give people what they deserve; it gives people what they have earned.
The closest, concrete representation of these expectations, the reality, lies in the reflection in the mirror. Unkempt black hair, tan skin complexion, and chiseled features compliment his oval-shaped face. In the eyes of the beholder, the world is an ugly yet beautiful experience. The true turmoil, though, is untold. His hazel hues swirl with mixtures of grey and blue, confusion and sorrow that contrasts with the madness of his hair.
The voices whispering in his ear are no strangers to him as he listens to their moans, whines, cries, and ridicules; they blame him, they mock him, and they despise him. The thought of escape speaks sweetly to his ear, a desire he beckons his body to react, to obey. Though a jerk of his head to avert the gaze of his reflection was successful, the male finds himself gazing into another identical mirror.
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." A raspy, female voice echoes in the shadows. "Why did you save him? You could've saved him!" An angered, high-pitched voice chimes in. "You're spiteful. You're vain. You're arrogant!" This time, a commanding male voice booms above the other voices, enunciating each word with forced calmness.
With each ticking second, he notices a crack in himself, a crack lengthening within the infrastructure of his mirrored image. Despite the distortion, his reflection continues to stare back at him as if it was searching into his soul. "We," He hears his own low, husky voice. "We are the monsters." He smiles darkly at himself before the glass implodes inwards and drags him into the abyss of the darkness.
Soft sounds tweet in the far distance, oscillating its humdrum melody from the darkness. A gentle stroke flutters upon his cheek until he suddenly feels the warmth embracing him like a shield. Curiously, the male opens his eyes to witness the magnificence of the morning: tree leaves glisten in its verdant sheen with the morning dew dripping at its tip, birds chirping their elegant songs upon the thin, tree branch, and sunlight bathing him in its ethereal kindness.
Hazel eyes examine the confines of his room, which holds little to no personality; the whiteness of the walls and furniture indicates the cell of a prison, but the truth was that he had little motivation to decorate especially when he will be sent away to another location soon. The manor, in which he currently resides, belongs to the aristocratic family, who felt obliged to adopt an abandoned child from the streets, a child whom their beloved son befriended on one of his rebellious escapes. As much as he feels indebted to their gratitude, he feels a seldom discrimination from people when they view the golden brilliance of the family with his contrasting features; although the two males are similar in physique, they are polar opposites.
A rasping knock at the door turns his attention to the bedroom entrance. He slowly sits upright in his bed while running a wary hand through the bedridden locks of his dark hair. "Rise and shine, Wolf." The golden-haired male proudly shines with his bold smile and cheerful demeanor. His long strides across the room soon stop at the side of the bed, awaiting the response of his companion. "I wouldn't say that I'm shining but glowering at another morning, Leo." Wolf glances to the side, taking in the sight of a garden that is bountiful in roses and perennial florals. At his brother's explanation, the golden male sits on the edge of the bed and leans in for a whisper. "Another one of those dreams?" Wishing to avoid the subject, Wolf merely nods his head while allowing the silence to fall upon them. For once, he finds satisfaction in this silence. The remnants of his dream continue to play in his mind like a broken record player, but the words remain unclear to him. 'We'. The emphasis on the possessive word only implies a hostile force, an awakening, or a suppressed truth. Why he bothers to contemplate on his dream is uncertain, but his thoughts return to the present as he finally feels the presence of two holes being drilled to the side of his face. Turning to the prince of the household, he stares into the sparkling ocean-blue hues. "What?" He asks with a dumbfound expression.
Leo, on the other hand, shrugs his shoulders as if he was expecting Wolf to know the answer to his own question. "I don't know. I was going to ask you the same thing." Wolf scoffs softly to himself, rolling his eyes before glancing aside. He knew Leo would never pry into his thoughts, but he could be persistent. "Then, I don't know either." Wolf sighs, folding the comforter aside for him to exit on the other side of his bed. "All I can wonder is where your parents will send me next." He approaches a door across from his dresser, opening it to enter a walk-in closet. From a selection of comfortable attire, he picks a few of his usual outfit before heading to the bathroom to freshen himself for the day.
"Another academy." Leo answers with the hopes of easing his wondering mind. "Even though you may have been expelled from the last one as well as the one before that, you still need the education as most parents would desire for their protégés." Flashing another of his golden smiles, he leans against the doorframe while examining his younger brother's morning routine. "My parents assure you that this one will fit your 'wild' behavior." A soft chuckle sounds from his gruff voice while Wolf scoffs through the foam of toothpaste. "Good." Wolf huffs before spitting the toothpaste into the sink and rinsing his mouth with Listerine mouthwash. "As long as I get as far from Kenny, I'd be such a good puppy. Shall I wag my tail too? Play fetch? Oh, wait. Playing dead is always the best trick, no?"
Leo laughs heartily, shaking his head at the oozing sarcasm, which is a common characteristic in the younger male. "As much as I'd wish to see you wag that stubby tail of yours, I'd prefer if you would be yourself." He moves aside as Wolf returns to the main bedroom. "How catastrophic." Wolf twirls his index finger as if he was waving a pendant flag cheering for the home team, 'Be Yourself'. "As much as I'd wish to 'be myself'," Wolf reiterates his brother's statement. "I'd like to keep whatever pride I have left with the 'humiliation' that our friend, Kenny, already reaped for me." Tugging on his vest, he zips up his zipper before straightening it by its hem. "It wasn't a bad prank." Leo comments, snickering while he heads out the door with the younger companion close behind him. "Oh, yes. We should bloody damn well set the school on fire rather than ram a scorching car into the swimming pool before having it leap like a bird onto the roof of the school mascot's chicken coop. Brilliant!"
Warming as his smile, his laughter reverberates down the hallway into the main hall. Such an earthly laugh attracts the attention of both the maids and butlers, who bow their heads to the young master while giving obscure glances at the other companying him. Irritably, Wolf stuffs his hands into his pant pockets, fisting them to avoid any clear expression of his emotions. He did not need any more judgment from strangers especially those serving the household; such glares from these particulars make him feel lower than he already is in status. Once the great doors open to the dining hall, the whiff of savory breakfast fills his olfactory senses: the crispness of the bacon, the buttery flour of the pancakes, the thick sweetness of the maple syrup, and the saltiness of the fatty hash browns. A simple breakfast for the aristocrats, yet this meal is a delicacy for one who had to live on rations known as the cafeteria food.
"I see the night owls have finally awoken." The male comments with his face still buried behind the folds of the newspaper. He continues to skim through the article titles for ones of interest. "Which is why they are not getting the worms." The head maid chides the two grinning lads before ushering them to their respective seats: Leo sits to the right of the male head whereas Wolf sits to that of his left. "Once you're done, the chauffeur will drive you to your new academy." The male head states, keeping his eyes glued to the paper. "Why the rush?" A feminine voice adds, walking in her three-inch heels and dressed for business. She strokes her son's hair, planting a kiss to his cheek before repeating the gesture to her other son. "Wolf's only been back for a couple of days. There is no need for him to be rocketed to a new school, new environment, and new lifestyle." Lady Dahlia reasons with her husband, Lord Phebas. "I agree with your opinion entirely, dear, but the trimester begins soon. He has to settle in by tonight." Wolf shifts his gaze between the lord and the lady, uncertainty tugs at the creases of his brow. "At least, can I finish breakfast?" Wolf interrupts the pair before cutting into the fluffy pancake and stuffing it into his mouth before someone forcefully drags him away from the dinner table and stuffs him into the back of the extravagant vehicle.
"As the boy agrees, it is settled." Lord Phebas respectfully bows his head to his wife, who suddenly pouts at the decision. "I'm sure he will get accustomed to his new living quarters at Youkai Academy." The sudden name of the institution causes Wolf's head to jerk upwards. "Wait, Youkai Academy?" His eyebrows furrow with a perplexed expression. "Due to the," Lord Phebas clears his throat in search of a better term for words. "Unfortunate events at the military academy, I propose it is best that you attend to an appropriate school of our kind." Wolf's lips tug downwards, conveying his quiet skepticism at the word choice. "Yet, you think sending me to an academy of demons, witches, brownies, elves, and fluffy furbies would be 'proper'?" In response to his question, he only receives a simple smile. "Don't forget your boxers."