Author's Note:

I wanted to write a story based on an interplay among these different races, hence this fic. At this point, there is no fixed plot yet. Feel free to message me in my inbox with plot suggestions or characters and pairings you want to see here. :)

Also, please do leave reviews! Your opinions on the Prologue would help determine what would make or break this fic since this is quite only a tester post for now. Cheers!

Undying Disclaimer:

All Prince of Tennis characters belong to Takeshi Konomi. The idea of the nephilims was inspired from the novel Angelology by Danielle Trussoni. The vampires were based on traditional vampire literature and other legends of vampirism.

Prologue

It was during the later years of the 19th century.

A 400-year old nephilim was in mid-flight against the soft rolling clouds. The afternoon sun's rays shone brilliantly, piercing the light blue skies and casting an illumination on the gold-tinged wings of the nephilim as he flew by.

It was a peaceful day as far as the nephilim could tell. The wind was cool and the warmth of day was just right. He ventured for a flight over the vast expanse of the sea. It was his favourite spot. He loved watching the sun rise and set on the horizon and he found the sea alluring in its depth and mystery of what lies beneath.

From the shore, the nephilim observed the shallow waters sparkle silver from the light of the sun. He could see his reflection on the water's surface. The nephilim halted his flight and with a slow and steady flap of his wings, he gracefully manoeuvred his descent on land. His bare feet touched the sand. They were mildly rough against his skin but the nephilim enjoyed the feel of them. He scrunched his toes and dug them deeper into the citrine sand.

Overhead, he heard a seagull caw before it made a swift dive towards the water and, a few seconds later, emerged with a fish between its beak.

Brave creature, the nephilim thought. He sometimes had the pleasure of flying alongside a group of birds on his daily route. The singing of birds was music to his ears. He closed his eyes and his ears picked up a faint melody from some birds in the branches of a nearby tree.

There came a strong splash in the distant waters before him. In an instant, the nephilim re-opened his eyes and cast a look upon the sea. For a while, nothing moved. The waves didn't come and only soft ripples marred the surface of the clear waters.

All of a sudden, a slender arm jutted out of the water and waved around as if trying to grab onto something solid. Then a young man's head came into view, his face a look of pure agony as he tried to gasp for air. He flailed his arms wildly around him, trying to divide the waters in an attempt to swim but he couldn't get a hold of himself. He squirmed around, turned his body this way then the other but it was no use. He could feel his limbs turn heavy as if they were made of lead. He knew he must keep his head out of the water so he could breathe but his body was slowly sinking.

The sea was going to swallow him, he knew for certain. He made a last shot at survival by trying to scream out for help but his voice came out muffled, lost in the cawing of the seagulls above.

On the shore, the watching nephilim twitched his wings as if ready for flight. He knew he couldn't be seen by humans but the young man was drowning and there was no one else to help. Against his better judgement, the nephilim found humans quite an interesting race. He adored their marvellous inventions and even their way of life. True, it was nowhere as majestic as the life in the palaces of the nephilims high up on the mountains that touched the clouds but still, the daily life of humans piqued at his curiosity.

After all, weren't nephilims partly human? They were all a product of a forbidden union between humans and angels in the very ancient of times. The order of the new world now forbids nephilims to intervene in human lives so as not to disrupt the balance of Nature. But the concern he was feeling for the drowning man could be attributed to his ancient human genealogy.

The nephilim took to a low flight and hovered just slightly above the water. From a short distance, he could see the man sinking slowly into the sea. The man limply held one arm up as if reaching for the salvation that never came.

The nephilim came to the spot where the man drowned. He looked down into the clear waters of the sea. He could still make out the man's silhouette as it descended deeper into the bottom of the sea. The nephilim inhaled sharply before plunging himself into the water.

His wings were of no use in the water. The lower the altitude, the higher the pressure, the harder the nephilim found it to move. But the young man was just within his reach. He pushed himself further and managed to wrap his arms around the lithe figure of the man just before they both touched the seafloor.

The nephilim kicked off the ground and used the weak flapping of his wings to buoy them up into the surface. They reached the shore and he laid the young man on the sand. His eyes were tightly closed. For a moment, the nephilim thought he was dead. He laid his ears close to the mouth of the man and he detected a laboured breathing.

The nephilim brushed the man's golden brown strands off his face. He knew he mustn't wait for the human to wake up and see him there but the nephilim also couldn't just leave him behind. Besides, his wings were wet and heavy and weren't ready for flight.

The man's laboured breathing intensified and soon, he was coughing up water from his lungs. The nephilim watched him carefully as he slowly opened his eyes.

The young man tried to take in the sight before him. He knew the creature was his saviour but he didn't know exactly what he was. He tried to open his mouth to thank his saviour but no voice came out.

The nephilim smiled, understanding the intention of the young man. "It's okay," he whispered. "You're safe now."

The young man couldn't take his eyes off the creature. His body was too weak to take in all the shock at once but he found him astonishing. He had angelic wings on his back. They were wet and the feathers stuck to each other but that didn't stop them from looking grand and beautiful. He studied the creature's face. His expression was gentle and serene. He had navy blue hair and eyes the colour of sapphire. Suddenly, his vision became blurry and his breath came out in gasps. He tried to blink but dark edges crept into his line of sight. He felt the creature rested a warm palm on his forehead. He could feel his breath waning and then, there was nothing.

The nephilim stared in aghast. The young man couldn't be dead. He gathered him in his arms and cradled his head against his chest. He pressed a soft kiss on the man's forehead. "Please don't die on me," he whispered.

The last rays of the sun faded beneath the horizon and afternoon was transformed into dusk. Still, the nephilim remained seated on the sandy shore with a human being encircled in his arms.

A tall, cloaked figure stood in the distance. He recognized the nephilim by his wings and it struck him odd to see a human with a nephilim. He made a few long steps to where the nephilim sat and throwing them a look from under his hood, he accosted the nephilim.

"It is late for you to be out here, nephilim."

The nephilim stared at the figure towering over him. He paused, straining his ears to detect the figure's presence but he couldn't make out his heartbeat. He could tell the figure wasn't human.

The nephilim clutched the young man tighter to his chest. "Do not harm him."

The figure chuckled in reply. "I do not take orders from your kind."

"I know vampires live on human blood but this young man is too weak to provide a meal to satisfy your thirst. I ask only that you leave him alone."

The vampire removed his hood, shook his reddish brown hair loose and regarded the nephilim with an unobstructed gaze. "Why do you care about that poor creature?"

"I saved him from drowning. I saw he had suffered enough. He deserves to live."

"To let him live is futile," the vampire said, squatting beside the nephilim and looking at the young man. "His breathing is very weak. It is there, but barely audible." He reached for the young man's pulse. "His heartbeat will give out in a matter of minutes. You cannot save him."

There was a pause as the nephilim regarded the face of the young man. Turning to the vampire, he said, "I cannot save him but you can."

The vampire was taken aback. "Do you hear yourself, angel? Do you understand what you're asking me to do? You do not want me to drink his blood but you want me to turn him into one of my kind."

The nephilim nodded, although a bit reluctantly. "Please. It's the only way."

"You're out of your mind," the vampire drawled out a sigh. "I need to hunt for blood." He stood up and turned to leave but the nephilim grabbed the hem of his cloak.

"Tell me your name, vampire. I am Yukimura Seiichi, a nephilim descending from nobility. If you do this, I will forever remember your act of kindness for this young mortal man."

"I don't need any of your graces, Yukimura," the vampire scowled but stopped when he saw the look of utter desperation in the nephilim's eyes.

"No, you don't. We nephilims offer nothing that could be significant to vampires. But this pact could ensure peace between your race and mine."

The vampire was silent for a while as he considered what Yukimura said. Finally, he relented. He knelt beside the young man's body and tilted his head to gain access to his neck. He lowered his lips close to the angled neck and Yukimura saw his fangs flash before the vampire bit down on a pulsating vein.

Yukimura watched the vampire drain the man of his mortality, never once letting go of the man's hands through the whole process.

The vampire wiped his mouth on his sleeve after he was through feeding.

"What's next?" Yukimura inquired.

"An exchange of blood," the vampire answered and he brought his own wrist up to his lips and bit on it to draw out blood. He raised his wrist over the man's slightly opened mouth and let droplets of blood drip onto the lips, then onto the tongue.

The effect of taking in vampiric blood was like a fire ignited in the throat. The young man gave out a deep moan. The substance in his mouth tasted like a cross between metal and salt and he didn't know why but he thirsted for more. He opened his eyes and reached out for the wrist held above him. He was so thirsty and was yearning for the warm substance trickling through his lips. He closed his mouth on the wound on the wrist and sucked on the blood, letting his tongue lapped up the flesh, lapped up the flow of blood, letting the warmth fill his entire being.

The wrist was pulled out from him and he looked up at the faces peering at him. He felt different. He felt changed. He let his eyes wander at the sea before him and the moon now shining above it on the clouds. He watched the sea water create subtle waves as a gentle wind blew. He watched the moon's reflection dancing on the surface of the water. He listened to the soft sound of waters tumbling against the edge of the shore where the three of them sat. It was like perceiving an old world with new senses. He had never felt this good in his life.

"I must go," the nephilim's voice broke through his reverie. "It is enough that I see you are well."

He turned to look at the nephilim. "You...saved me."

The nephilim stood up and dusted his robe. "I saved you from drowning but the vampire saved you from death," he gestured to the vampire beside him.

"Vampire?"

"I see I have a lot of explaining to do," the vampire said. "You are one of us now."

"What? What do you mean?" He felt the nephilim reach down to ruffle his hair. He turned and locked his soft brown eyes onto the nephilim's sapphire ones. He wanted to tell the angel he found him breathtakingly beautiful but he was so mesmerized, he couldn't form the words.

"What is your name?" The nephilim asked him.

"Kuranosuke... Shiraishi Kuranosuke," he replied.

"My name is Seiichi," the nephilim smiled. "It was lovely meeting you, Kuranosuke."

Yukimura stood up straighter and ruffled the feathers on his wings. He spread them out and let them flap a little. They were dry and were now poised for flight.

The movement of the wings fanned some sand particles beneath Yukimura, causing them to form a thin sandy hurricane pooling around Yukimura's feet. Shiraishi found the sight majestic. The sand looked as if they were golden dust from Seiichi's wings and as the nephilim stood there in full glory, with his robes cascading down his legs, Shiraishi couldn't help but think of all things glorious and heavenly.

Yukimura turned to the older vampire. "Thank you for what you've done tonight." He held out his hand.

"Well, you did fill my hands with a lot of responsibility," the vampire smirked but nevertheless accepted the hand held out before him. The handshake between the nephilim and the vampire was firm but friendly. "We probably wouldn't see you again so this is as good as it gets. I'm Watanabe Osamu, by the way, and don't worry, Kuranosuke here is my charge from now on."

Yukimura turned on his heels and let his wings catch the wind as he took flight. He flapped them, stronger this time, and rose higher into the sky. He turned his head back one last time, fixed his eyes on Shiraishi watching him from below and whispered, "Goodbye, my beautiful man."

Shiraishi watched as Yukimura flew higher and farther away until he blended into the stars twinkling against the jet black sky.

Watanabe beckoned to him. "Let's get going, Kuranosuke. The night is short but you have a lot to learn."

As Shiraishi got on his feet, he noticed a solitary feather from Yukimura's wings left behind, resting gently on the sand. He picked up the feather and held it across his palm.

The lower half of the feather was pristine white, the upper half was the colour of mint green. The tips and edges were delicately framed with a gold lining. Shiraishi ran a hand over the feather and it left gold powdery dust on his fingers.

He smiled and kept the feather safe beneath his clothes, deciding to keep it forever in remembrance.