I'd like to dedicate this chapter to Ms. Sakura Moon! My awesome editor! She goes over all of my Prince of Tennis fics: Achromatic Colors, Colors of Blood, and First Dawn!

Thanks a lot Sakura-san!

Firey

Colors of Blood

Colors of blood are colors of red. Vermilion; a shade of red.

Ver-mil-ion (ver-mil-yuhn)

–noun

1. a brilliant scarlet red.

2. a bright-red, water-insoluble pigment consisting of mercuric sulfide, once obtained from cinnabar, now usually produced by the reaction of mercury and sulfur.

–adjective

3. of the color vermilion.

–verb (used with object)

4. to color with or as if with vermilion.

Vermilion, sometimes misspelled vermillion, when found naturally-occurring, is an opaque orangish red pigment, used since antiquity, originally derived from the powdered mineral cinnabar. Chemically the pigment is mercuric sulfide, HgS. Like all mercury compounds, it is toxic. As pure sources of cinnabar are rare, natural vermilion has always been extremely expensive. In the Middle Ages, vermilion was often as expensive as gilding. As of 2007 a 40 ml tube of genuine Chinese Vermilion oil paint can cost £51 (US 100) (Wikipedia)

IV. Vermilion

…

He felt so…tired.

Ryoma was convinced that his eyelids must weigh at least a ton. He groaned. Every inch of his body experienced soreness. He felt like a limp lifeless doll; unable to move from wherever they were left lying around by a careless child. There was not a drop of strength left within him. What 

did he do yesterday to be this tired? Even the weight of paper-thin sheets covering his body felt like a permanent mold, holding him perfectly still. He tried to move his arms, but they must have gotten lead injected into them. Ryoma couldn't even feel his legs. They must have put him on labor again, but he never experienced this much fatigue - then again each time always feels worse than the last.

Sapphire eyes flashed through his mind. The events of that horrifying night came back in blurry flashes. His hand unconsciously flew toward his neck. He found nothing. The encounter was so blurry now that he could barely recall any detail – like a dream.

'It was a dream after all.'

Ryoma relaxed. He tried to shift his position and slid on some sort of soft fabric. He froze.

'What the-'

Ryoma attempted to lift his head and immediately regretted it. He experienced a massive headache; he felt as if he was the huge bell on the towering church buildings where the bell ringer pounds on the poor metal frame with a huge wooden hammer at a never-ending, constant beat. After it faded enough to let him think anything other than the hammering, he shifted more carefully this time to look around his surroundings; the heaviness of the eyelids temporarily forgotten.

The first thing he saw was the fabric he was lying on. He failed to recognize the soft materials at first glance. Then he realized his hand was sliding on silk.

Corn yellow silken sheets covered the bed. The translucent amber curtains drawn up against the mahogany posts – one of the most expensive woods around the market - were thin sheets of silk. Much to his horror, he saw that his left hand was surrounded in a clean white silken sleeve. At any moment, he believed that he would just wake up in a familiar setting in the stables from the shock.

Silk was so expensive that a sheet like this would cost a farmer's wage for an entire year. Because of such costliness, it is only used by the nobles. If he didn't felt clean, he would have been even more horror-struck by the ruination of the expensive sheets. No noble would let the likes of him go near such material, so why is he surrounded by it?

His curiosity made him look around the room. The four-poster bed he was lying on had fine grape vine patterns engraved into the reddish wood. Carvings of vine could be seen climbing on the four posts.

'Where am I?'

He could tell it was during the day as light seeped through the satin curtains. Fire cracked softly in the fine marble framed fireplace. Sandalwood, he sniffed. Material wealth was one thing, but he never liked the idea of burning of good money.



The room itself was rather peculiar. As far as he could tell, it was in a long rectangular shape with two doors on the right; the closer one probably goes into a walk in closet since there were no wardrobes. Lengthy pine green satin curtains draped all the way down to the floor from the ceiling on the left, directly opposite of the doors – now he was wandering if he would see anything other than silk.

The walls directly in front of him and behind the bed were wallpapered with a silver tree branch pattern on the fern green background. The walls on the two sides however, were painted yellow green. How peculiar. He was sure this was deliberate and not because they ran out of wallpapers.

A cherry wood desk and a matching chair were placed next to the bookshelf. A small comfortable looking reading chair stood in the corner between the curtain and the fireplace. All the furnishings were the finest craftsmanship.

The only ornament of this room was a single painting hung over the fireplace; a painting of a single white daisy. He normally would expect a portrait of some lord glaring down at him, almost as if watching his every move. Ryoma had never heard of anyone doing otherwise.

The lilac floor tiles and a vanity clearly show that this room is intended for a lady.

As strange as the room looks, it seemed pleasant – simple, elegant and screams fortune at the same time. It has none of the over cluttering attempt of show off prosperity. It's too elegant to be a guestroom - unless of course, whoever owns it is bloody rich. The owner probably loves nature - a very abnormal preference during this time.

It even looks better than that noble's master bedroom that he pried into once out of curiosity. But then again the bastard wasn't the most well off nobles.

This room could accommodate at least a family of twenty. Ryoma shook his head. No, he couldn't think from the standpoint of the poor. This room is probably not big enough for a title countess and above, though it is larger than Sasabe's (3).

'This must be a dream.' He concluded, though he had no idea where this imagination came from.

When the fight or flight response subdued, Ryoma's eyelids started dropping and became once again aware of his battered body. He snuggled into the soft bedspread; letting sleep overtake him. If this was a dream, he might as well enjoy it right?

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

His eyes opened slowly. He could still feel the softness at his fingertips and wrapped around his body. He blinked sleepily several times. The light in the somehow looked… different – unnatural even. 'Am I still dreaming?'

"I see you have woken up."



Ryoma jerked awake. He instinctively rolled off the opposite direction of the voice. Ryoma tried to stand up and pain soared through his muscles. He immediately collapsed. His legs won't take any of his weight at all even when he tried to force himself by biting through the pain. He backed himself against the wall by dragging his body backwards with his arms, as far away as he could from the voice. He instantly spotted a figure sitting in the reading chair. He could feel his heart thumping like a jackrabbit. Ryoma glared, his left hand covered his neck.

A pair of sapphire eyes stared back at him; two eyes filled with amusement, which Ryoma interpreted as mockery. His eyes narrowed. 'It's that damned vampire.' That night wasn't a dream, Ryoma concluded. Though he knew from his current state he wouldn't be able to go very far in this unknown location, he deeply regretted not attempting a getaway while he was alone.

He could see the vampire more clearly with the lamp on the desk giving off an unnatural amount of light. The brunet wore a casual dark green sweater with loose but clean brown track pants. He looked like an adult male in his late teens (1). He also looked rather feminine, especially without the mustache. He probably could pass off as a girl if not for the height (2), flat chest, and the intense eyes.

From his experience with Sasabe and the nobles around the area, Ryoma expected every rich man—with a huge curly wig—wearing a coat with cuffs, heeled shoes with ribbons, and colored stockings. But if the vampire was the owner of this unusual room, he should have anticipated an equally odd fashion.

The brunet could fully pass off as a human. His smile may have even looked disarming, but Ryoma would never forget the predatory eyes and the sharp fangs hidden behind it.

During his mad scramble, the vampire almost certainly had not moved an inch. He probably thought this was amusing. "You've slept for three days straight; I was starting to get worried." The brunet slowly got up from the small reading chair he had previously occupied and put down the book he was reading.

"You shouldn't have run like that. You'll wear yourself out." He walked closer.

He squatted down to be more at an eye level. "My name is Syuusuke Fuji, what's yours?" He hid his eyes in his smile.

Ryoma said nothing. He tried to press himself harder against the wall; his breathing became hitched.

"Hmm, this is not good. We have some communication issue here." Fuji appeared to be thoughtful. "I have to call you something don't I?" He smiled again. Ryoma didn't reply, but the vampire didn't expect him to.

"Saa… how about I call you… Kitten?"

"Kitten?" Ryoma blanched. He looks nothing like a kitten. Isn't that like a pet name?



Fuji smiled. "For a second there I was afraid of you being a mute."

Ryoma glared.

"I took the liberty to… straighten you out a little," Kitten regarded him with a mystified look, then instantly looked away after his eyes widened. Fuji grinned when he saw boy's cheeks flushed a deep shade of red. He appeared to comprehend the context. "You were… not in the best situation when I found you." Fuji grinned deviously.

"Excuse me if I am too impoverished to bathe every day." This time it was Fuji's eyes that opened in surprise. Ryoma looked at anything but the brunet not knowing that it was Fuji's tactic on getting Ryoma to open his mouth. Ryoma still could feel his cheeks burning. He could just imagine the vampire grinning.

"Where am I?" He changed the topic, still looking anywhere but the brunet.

"My house," The vampire sat on the floor to a more comfortable position.

Ryoma gave an exasperated look to the vampire. What else could it be?

"In Province de Champagne-Ardenne, somewhere in the mountains," Fuji recovered his smile. "Third floor. My sister's old room to be more specific. Screaming for help will be completely useless."

Ryoma still had the inquisitive look in his eyes, but he gets the middle of nowhere part. He expected as much.

"Northwest France." It seems like geography was never the Kitten's strong point.

"But that's…!" Ryoma gasped. How long was he out?

"The other side of the country?" Fuji grinned.

"I didn't get an opportunity to go shopping. I left some of my old clothes in the walk in. I hope you don't mind."

The exasperated look returned. Mind? The vampire knew that anything of the brunet is better than what Ryoma could ever hope for. Plus, which peasant gets anything but hand me downs?

"Why am I still alive?" He asked instead.

"How much stories have you heard? About us?" Fuji questioned back.

"…Answer the question." Ryoma glared.



Fuji raised his eyebrows for a second. He was amazed by Kitten's boldness, as he was not in a situation to demand. "Saa… who knows?" Fuji smiled.

"What are you going to do with me?"

"What do you want to be done to you?"

Ryoma twitched. Is that vampire going to answer anything? "And if I want to leave?"

"Want all you like, but it's not coming true." Fuji grinned.

Ryoma looked angrily at the vampire. "Are you going to answer anything?"

"Saa… you know what I really am, Kitten." The stunning blue eyes stared into rebellious golden ones. "That alone would scratch out any possibility of you leaving this place alive don't you agree?" He smiled in a more sinister way.

That statement didn't faze Ryoma. It is a common statement from a kidnapper. "Are you the noble of Champagne-Ardenne?" Ryoma asked instead. Right now, he needs to gather more information.

"A noble, yes, but not of Champagne-Ardenne. As for where or what rank I am, saa, that would be a surprise if you found out ne?"

Ryoma sighed. Looks like he won't be getting anything more out of this topic. He needed to start planning his getaway. "How many people are here?"

"There are only us," Fuji paused for a second. "…and one other person." He added after some thought.

"A vampire?" That is important question to find out whether the other person is someone to watch out for.

"Something like that."

What the heck does that mean? A question has been troubling Ryoma for the last minute. Could the 'something' be referred to the kind like him? Humans that have been turned into a vampire? He had often heard of stories that the victims of the vampires turn into those hateful creatures in many cases. If it is true, is he a vampire already as well?

"Did you turn me into a…," His throat tightened. He feared to say it.

"A vampire?" Fuji finished for him. A mocking smile played on his lips. "Don't be ridiculous, you don't just turn into one just because some blood was extracted from your body. If it did, then we'll run out of prey. If the humans we bit into turn into vampires, and they bite other humans, then we would have created a cascade effect. The ecological pyramid shows that there will 

always be more humans than vampires, though that does not necessarily translate to all prey and predator relationships."

The boy nodded. His posture relaxed. Fuji said nothing but looked at the boy oddly. Either he just didn't care, or he wasn't puzzled by that lecture at all. He didn't have a commoner's accent and spoke in perfect grammar. 'Impoverished' is not part of a normal farmer's vocabulary. Fuji suspected that he understood the material perfectly as well because normal person would have showed if they didn't. But considering the subject in question was Kitten, he could make an exception.

He is rather unique. Though Kitten initially displayed fear, it had somehow evaporated into exasperation and curiosity to the point that seems as if he had already forgotten all about that night. Kitten also displayed some intelligence in the verbal language. The education would make him been seen as an heir to a noble, but he was wearing peasant's clothes when Fuji found him. Is he an exiled noble or a scholar? Fuji would question later. But right now, Kitten is acting as if he is gathering information to plan for a getaway…

"Nevertheless there is one way a human can turn into a vampire," Kitten lifted up his head in interest, "by drinking our blood."

The boy's nose wrinkled with disgust.

Fuji only smiled.

Author Notes:

1. The concept of teenager didn't exist until after the baby boom in the 1940s. So people basically went from a child to an adult.

2. Fuji has a late growth spurt okay? XD I've never thought of Fuji as short and I just cannot imagine a short seme. Even if he's short, he's got to be taller than a girl/Ryoma. :Fangirl-screams while getting pelted by Ryoma's tennis balls:

3. I've decided to call Ryoma's much hated noble a Sasabe. I was going to leave him unnamed throughout the series but that wouldn't make sense since Ryoma will refer to him and his past constantly. (now that I think about it, he fits XD)

- It was so difficult to visualize the room from Ryoma's perspective especially when I had to read into 17th century European stuff. But as you could tell, I modernized a lot of the room style and probably got some of the time period mixed up. (Vampires are progressive XDDD)

You got to put your mind into the 17th century era. The modern (vampire) fashion is really strange concept for Ryoma. (though he's more accepting than he should be)

I'm kind of pissed off writing this chapter because this is the deleted chapter three months ago and I'm forced to write more than 2000 words all over again! The worse thing is I've mostly forgotten what I've wrote.

REVIEW! REVIEW! REVIEW!I'm doing the 25 minimum for this one as well.

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