Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Rosario Vampire. I am merely twisting the creators vision into my own dream. If the supernatural, sexuality, or violence is offensive to you, then you should not read this.

Chapter 63

Tsukune stood down by the bus stop, wishing the buses were gone already. Most of them were loaded up and some of them had already departed. Tsukune's friends had left already, leaving him to wait, still on display, by himself.

The closing ceremony had been long and dry, and for Tsukune, more then a little embarrassing. The Board Chairman had given a modest speech about expecting good things from the students, and reminding them to behave during the break. After the opening speech, each department head had a turn to address the assembled students, and to present any awards. Yukari was called up and presented a certificate for her performance in Math. Moka was given an award for English. After that, the graduating students were called up in order to be handed their certificates by the Board Chairman.

The Student Counsel president then had a turn to speak. She gave a carefully written speech about teamwork and overcoming difficulties, and about the importance of each individual standing up for themselves and doing the right thing. It was then the Student Counsel's turn to present awards. Tsukune, who had been sitting on the far edge of the stage,as out of sight as possible, was called up to the front so the Student Counsel president could give him an award. Tsukune had to stand next to the Student Counsel vice president, who was holding the award, as the president read a list of Tsukune's achievements. Tsukune was credited with standing up to the Public Safety Commission, helping establish the Student Counsel, organizing the school festival, and protecting students. After Tsukune was presented his award, he had to give a speech. He kept it short, thanking the Student Counsel, the student body, the school staff and administration, and the members of the Student Police, and then he thanked the members of the Newspaper Cub by name. He retreated to the back of the stage.

When the speeches were over it was time for the students to leave. The school year was officially over. Tsukune watched the students leaving for home at the bus stop, holding his award The award was a wooden sword. The boken was made of red oak with a dark stain polished to a shine, making the wood a deep black. A golden cord was tied about the hilt of the boken with tassels hanging down.. Some members of the Student Police made some kind of salute to their captain before boarding the buses. It made Tsukune feel awkward, but he did his best to return the gesture.

While he was waiting for the other students to leave, Tsukune had to act calm and confident. This was hard to do when girls he did not know kept coming up to him to take a picture with him. Being asked to be in pictures was awkward enough, but the posing some of the girls did made Tsukune sweat. Tsukune was glad his friends did not see him with girls hugging him, or posing suggestively with him. More then one girl had managed to take advantage of the opportunity to get a feel of Tsukune while he was trying to look calm for the camera.

Finally the last bus was loaded an on its way. Tsukune waited until the bus was out of sight in the tunnel that would connect to somewhere else, and then he counted to thirty before relaxing and blowing out a sigh. It was time for him to leave as well. Tsukune loosened his tie and unbuttoned his shirt as he returned to the village.

Tsukune sometimes wondered how Ruby found the time to do all the things she did. He knew that she worked for the Board Chairman, but somehow she always had time to make sure Tsukune's place was clean and his things were taken care of. When he got back to the house he saw that she had all of the things he was going to take home neatly packed up. She also had a fare sized back pack of her own things ready to go, in addition to a purse, and had dressed for the trip in a warm jacket and bluejeans.

Ruby had assured Tsukune that the house would be safe while they were gone, so he did not have to bring everything, or have it shipped. Tsukune only owned enough to fill two bags anyway. Anything else had come with the house, or with Ruby.

Tsukune only needed a few minutes to get ready, thanks to Ruby. When Tsukune had first received his helmet he had not realized what a special thing it was. It wasn't until he had taken it out to show to Ruby. It was then that Tsukune found the note in the bag. It turned out that the helmet was a magical construct that had three forms. Tsukune had his choice of how the helmet would look at any given time, for the price of investing some of his youki. When riding, he had his choice of a simple, light, open face helmet, or the more ornate, full face helmet it had appeared as when he first received it. When he did not need a helmet, Tsukune could spend a little youki and have it transform into a leather, flat cap. Now that it was time to head home, all Tsukune had to to was pull on a coat and the helmet, currently open faced, and load up Hiru.

Hiru seamed to understand what was going on. She appeared as soon Tsukune called out to her, trotting in to view and transforming into a motorcycle. Tsukune was surprised to see that Hiru had even produced what looked like saddle bags.

It was a day of small surprises. Tsukune quickly loaded his belongings into the saddle bags. When he looked up, Tsukune saw that Ruby had her pack on her back and was holding a glossy black skullcap helmet. Where she got it from, Tsukune didn't have a clue. Like much of what Ruby did, Tsukune just blinked for a moment, taking it in, then shrugged his shoulders. Tsukune reflected for a moment, that if Hiru had a side car, it would be like that manga about a college student that lived with a goddess.

"Ah..." Tsukune gave a small shake of his head, deciding to not be distracted. For all he knew, Ruby had gotten the idea for her outfit from the same manga, and wouldn't that be just dandy. He settled on to Hiru's seat and tried to get comfortable. He had very little practice riding, and was unsure of what to expect on the trip. "Alright," Tsukune said, trying to sound more confident then he felt.

Ruby didn't need any more invitation. She mounted Hiru behind Tsukune and wrapped her arms around him firmly. Tsukune understood that she needed to hold on to him, but somehow he just felt that the act was not as innocent as just not wanting to fall off.

Tsukune wanted to be convincing as possible when he was in the human world, when riding Hiru, in order to keep her a secret. He went through the motions of checking the mirrors and checking his balance. When Tsukune pressed the 'start' button on the handlebars, Hiru gave forth a deep, throaty, suitably mechanical sounding, purr.

Before heading back to the human word, Tsukune took the time to get a little practice riding. It was kind of strange, but nice, Tsukune decided, riding up to the school and over to the dorm without anybody around. He practiced his turns and breaking a little, getting used to the hand controls. He paused at the bus stop to pull the map out of his pocket.

The map was a strange thing. Tsukune found the collection of lines, circles, and dots almost impossible to understand. To make things worse, the things on the map moved and changed. When folded up small, the map looked almost normal, with a distorted world map on the front and a list of 'points of interest' on the back. Folded, the map was a as wide as Tsukune's hand, and one and a half times as long. Opening the first fold doubled the length and made the list and the world map visible at the same time. If someone just carelessly unfolded the map, one side showed the north hemisphere, and the other showed the south. The simplest way to use the map was to open the first fold, and then touch the listed 'point of interest' closest to the person's starting point, using a little spiritual energy, then trace their finger to the place closest to their destination of choice. The next step was to fold the map backwards so the outside was now the inside, and on the new front would be a map the would show the location of starting 'point of interest,' while the destination was on the new back. It took Tsukune almost an hour to get the map to show him enough of Japan for him to find a 'point of interest' reasonably close to his home. It took him another hour for him to plot out all the 'points' he would have to connect through to get the shortest trip possible. For once, Ruby's superior knowledge of the youkai word was of no help in learning how to use the map.

Tsukune was not happy about the lost time. He would be getting home late, which would make his mother worry, and a worried mother asked a lot of questions. Tsukune tried not to think too much about what would happen when he got home. Feeling determined, he 'started' Hiru again. It was time to go.

Tsukune knew it would take time to get used to riding Hiru. What he had not anticipated was what it would be like when he used the 'points of interest' to navigate. The 'points' were places in the human world that somehow interconnected with other places. Ruby was able to explain to Tsukune that some of the lines on the map were lines of energy, Ley Lines in some languages, but that didn't make understanding the map any easier. The tunnel at the school's bus stop connected to only one 'point.' Looking at the map, Tsukune was able to locate the school in the Satsunan Islands of southern Japan. Strangely, the one point the tunnel connected to was eastern Hokkaido. Tsukune had to criss-cross Japan three more times before he would be close to home.

There must be something about the school buses, Tsukune reasoned, that made their trips so smooth. If riding a motorcycle was like coasting a bicycle down a hill, using the connection points was like taking a bicycle off of jump ramps. Each time Tsukune started into a connection point he felt a pressure build around him, followed by a surge of motion; the take-off. The motion through the connection was smooth and quick, almost feeling like he was flying. The trip through the connection ended, the landing, with another build up of pressure that would quickly fade away as the world came into focus.

It was not a bad way to travel, Tsukune decided. It was fun in much the same way it had been to ride a bicycle as a young boy, scary at first, and then exciting. He also noticed that every time he jumped, he called it that because that is what it felt like to him, Ruby would hold him a little tighter, holding herself a little closer to him until the jump was over. Tsukune had a small smile on his lips as he though about taking Moka for a ride some time. In the end, the longest part of the trip, not counting the time lost learning the map, was the ride from the last 'point of interest' to his house.

It was late evening by the time Tsukune arrived home. He rode up to a stop in front of the house and let the 'engine' idle for a moment before hitting the off switch on the handlebars. When the engine noise died, let go of Tsukune and sat up. He felt the motorcycle shake as she dismounted. Tsukune fumbled for a moment with the kick stand before climbing off. Once he had nothing between him and the ground but his own two legs, Tsukune let out a relieved sigh.

Tsukune felt a mix of relief and anxiety about being home. As he rolled Hiru through the gate and into the small side yard of the house, Tsukune wondered how he would explain his ownership of a motorcycle. After unloading his things he hesitated before approaching the front door. Tsukune felt his anxiety rise. He wanted to be welcomed home, and then just relax for a while before going to bed. Tsukune looked to Ruby, who was smiling warmly, with her helmet hanging from her pack. Tsukune Drew in a deep breath and blew it out slowly, calming his nerves. Tsukune turned to the door and rang the bell.

XXXXXXXXXX

Kurumu flopped down on her bed with a contented sigh. Having to leave Tsukune had not been something the young succubus had wanted to do, but it was good to be home. Kurumu's home was an eighth floor apartment with a view of the city that lived and breathed right out side. The apartment had been designed to be a commercial suite for executives on business trips. There were four bedrooms, two full bathrooms, two water closets, a full kitchen, an office, as well as a large main room furnished for relaxation or entertaining. Kurumu had the run of the place most of the time, with her mother ether out or sleeping.

Kurumu had taken over the office, turning it into he sewing room. The kitchen was also Kurumu's domain before any others. She had picked out the dishes, the cookware, and the countless accessories that were found in the kitchens of housewives everywhere. When Kurumu had arrived home she had been welcomed by a note from her mother. Kurumu had read through the brief note, drew a little smile on it so her mother would know she had and then set about the business of coming home.

Belongings and clothes were sorted as Kurumu unpacked. Some were carefully put away, others were stuffed into a bag to be sent out to the laundry in the morning. The next item on her list was a good wash. It was something Kurumu always missed while at school, her own private bath, big enough for two or three people, with an almost endless supply of hot water. Only two things would have made the bath nicer, Kurumu reflected. While she couldn't do anything about Tsukune not being there to share it with her, Kurumu would not go another day without some nice cold milk.

After her bath, Kurumu donned a frilly house dress and went to the kitchen. While the cleaning service was efficient, it was obvious that they had not bothered to dust in the cupboards. Kurumu knew her mother almost never used the kitchen, even if she decided to entertain at home.

"Mother..." Kurumu sighed in frustration when she looked into the refrigerator.

The refrigerator was a piece of modern engineering to be proud of. Built into the kitchen, it had water filtration and an ice maker built into it. The thing was so big that it could hold enough food to feed a large family for more then a week, with room to spare. And that didn't include the impressive freezer section.

When Kurumu opened the refrigerator she saw more evidence of her mother's lifestyle. There were a handful of cartons from the restaurants in the area that would deliver. A dozen bottles of wine, that had been opened, but not emptied, sat on shelves.

Well Kurumu knew how to clean up the leftovers. She called down to the doorman and gave him instructions. Ten minutes later a tentative knock could be heard at the door. The men at Kurumu's door were a homeless pair that had a place near by. Kurumu knew them well enough. She sent them on their way with the leftovers. The food was trash, but the wine, poured carefully from bottle to bottle until three and a half bottles held it all, would be enjoyed. The men gave Kurumu wide, happy grins, showing off their long fangs. Kurumu and her mother had made use of the resident youkai a few times to 'clean up.'

With the leftovers out of the way, Kurumu set to work getting her kitchen in order. She phoned up her usual grocer, who was very happy to hear she was home from school. It was no wonder that the grocer was happy to hear from Kurumu, because she promptly placed a comprehensive and pricey order to be delivered. While she was waiting for her order, Kurumu cleaned everything up.

When everything was clean, and the fresh groceries had been delivered, Kurumu started cooking. For dinner Kurumu enjoyed stir-fry vegetables on steamed rice. After dinner she made a batch of fresh cookies, filling the apartment with their warm fragrance. The smell of cookies was still in the air as Kurumu retired to her bedroom.

Sitting on the bed, faithfully waiting for her was her favorite plush toy. It was a stuffed panda she had made herself. Bigger then a normal pillow, the bear was dressed in a copy of the Youkai Academy's boys' uniform. As she settled in to sleep, Kurumu cuddled up with her Tsukune-bear.

Xxxxxxxxxx X

Mizore welcomed the cool, clean air of her home. Her short yukata was comfortable ad easy to move around in. Everybody understood the philosophy of ice. Ice was calm and patient. As long as a person respected ice it was useful as a tool, useful for building. Ignored, taken for granted, ice could become fatal, or simply met away. It was much like life, people, and emotions. As long as one person respected another, there could be harmony. Ice was also like the truth, its purity clear to see when held up, but it could also have a sharp point that could wound, or even kill. With the exception of Fairy Tale's attempt to forcefully take control of the village, the place had always been peaceful.

Mizore would forever resent Fairy Tale for what they had done. Cold anger burned in side of her as she remembered the way they had violated the peace and serenity of the village. It was, she thought, a reflection of how she had been violated by that man. That intrusion in to her homeland had even spoiled her time with Tsukune. She wanted him to see that her home was a sanctuary from the troubles of the outside world.

Mizore would always resent Fairy Tale. But a small part of her was happy about some of what had happened. Mizore had been able to see that Tsukune cared about her. She got to see for herself that he would not give up on her. Tsukune had not turned away from her after someone else had tried to claim her. Mizore would always have the knowledge that Tsukune would be there for her when it counted.

Mizore's family were nobility among the Snow People, second only to the priestess in prestige. It was nothing as barbaric as who's ancestors had been the most violent or manipulative in gaining power that brought recognition among the Snow People. Nobility was passed down among the families that had provided the most service to the community. This put an obligation on the following generations to continue providing service to their people. Mizore's family had historically been protectors. Because the family had insured peace, it had been named after the Snow White flower, who's fragrance was soothing. Shirayuki Tsurara had believed the need for strong protectors had passed, and had wanted her daughter to have a happy life as a wife and mother. If she started early enough, then Mizore would be able to have many children, providing service to the ever smaller community. After the attempted conquest by Fairy Tale, Tsurara realized that she had been wrong.

Tsurara was happy to see her daughter. Mizore had glided in over the snow, on skis of ice, from where the bus had dropped her off. The people of the village welcomed her, glad to have one of their own back among them. While the details of Fairy Tale's actions had not been spread about, the fact that the Shirayuki family, with the help of their friends, had once again protected the village had been made known. Mizore was being held up as an example of dedication to the traditions of their people. But all of that pride was secondary to to the simple joy a mother felt to see her daughter home, healthy and whole.

One of the places in the village that was considered one of its beautiful treasures was the sculpture garden. It was one place that Mizore would only show Tsukune if he came to live in the village as her husband. While most of the sculptures of ice were purely art of different styles and quality, the garden had a traditional function that still persisted. Mizore, soon after changing her clothes, had headed for the garden. Tsurara walked with her daughter, glad to have her home, but feeling unsure of what she should say or do.

Mizore entered the Sculpture Garden with a purpose. She did not stop to admire the newly added pieces of art. She did no more then glance about herself as she headed for the heart of the garden. In the center there stood a collection of statues, looking like an assembled crowd of people. The ice sculptures in heart of the garden were all crafted in the likeness of an actual person. In ancient times, if a snow maiden found a lover among the people of the outside world, she would raise up a likeness of him in the garden. The sculpture was a way of sharing the likeness of her lover with others, so that they could avoid conflict over him. It would also be a likeness that could someday be shown to her child, so that he or she might know the face of the father they were never likely to meet. Tsurara had watched with some pride when Mizore first crafted a sculpture of the boy, Tsukune. It had been a bold declaration of her intentions for him. Now the woman watched as her daughter walked directly to that sculpture.

Mizore knew the traditions of her people well. She had studied them, mastering their skills to the best of her abilities. Mizore could cross new fallen snow and leave no track. She could sing the chants that would blank a man's mind so he could be turned from his path without knowing it, keeping him away from the village if need be. Mizore could summon storms of snow, sleet, and hail, if only in a limited area. She knew that she was capable. Mizore also knew the art of ice sculpting. She went now to her early sculpture of Tsukune.

Tsurara watched as her daughter approached the sculpture she had made of her intended mate. Mizore rested her hand against the formed column of ice and set her will upon it. Tsurara watched the statue change. The sculpture of the boy grew a little taller. His face became more detailed, showing the lines of determination that spoke of a good man. Tsurara was shocked by what her daughter did next. Mizore opened a hole in to the core of the sculpture, and then she leaned forward, breathing into the open space, which she quickly sealed. What looked like a dark, red and black vapor was trapped within the chest of the sculpture. A dark glow radiated through the statue of Tsukune, making Tsurara gasp.

Warmth was life. Among the Snow People it was symbolic to share Warmth. It was a act of sharing life, and in some cases, the act of surrendering life to save someone precious. Tsurara knew how much energy it would cost her daughter make a vessel of ice that could hold Warmth. The fact that she could do something of that level was impressive by itself. But to commit Warmth that she had taken in from another into such a vessel... Tsurara felt herself tremble. How much of his Warmth must Tsukune have shared with her daughter for Mizore to do what she had done.

Mizore looked at her work and nodded. Anybody in the village who saw it would know what it was that she had done. Mizore felt a little light headed from the amount of her own strength she had used, but counted it well spent. Of the over a hundred sculptures in the heart of the garden, less then a dozen glowed with warmth, and most of them were hundreds of years old. Only three, including Mizore's stood with their head up and eyes open, signifying that the sharing of Warmth was done by choice, and that the giver was still alive when the sculpture had been infused with Warmth. Content with her work, Mizore turned and started to leave the garden.

"Mizore," Tsurara questioned as she turned to follow her daughter. "How much have you shared with Aono?"

"As much as I could withstand, Mother."

"Does he understand what it means to share Warmth?"

"Yes he does," Mizore answered turning her head towards her mother. "I explained it to him."

"How did he respond?" Tsurara was confused. The sharing of Warmth was something lovers did, but the boy did not appear that close to her daughter, in spite of Mizore's feelings for him.

"He acknowledged me as being close to him," Mizore said. "As close to him as family."

The pair walked along in silence for a time. Such an intimate connection was usually acknowledged after a child was conceived. From what Tsurara could tell, Mizore's relationship with the boy was a pure as snow. As they approached the house she asked th question that was foremost in her mind.

"Then why has he not made a child with you yet? Surely he knows how important that is for you, for us."

"He understands, Mother," Mizore explained as they entered their home.

"Then why..."

"Because Tsukune," Mizore said with pride clear in her eyes, "Will not consent to fathering children he cannot be a father to. Tsukune wants to be a proper provider and protector for his family, not just a simple mate."

Tsurara considered her daughter's words. It was true that there were very few males ever born among the Snow People, and fewer still were suited for the cold climate. If just two men as dedicated as Mizore's boy were to take wives among the Snow People, then they could father enough children to help solve their population problem. Snow Maidens traditionally seldom married. It was their custom to live away from other people, only occasionally taking a lover. Rare was the snow maiden that had more then one child because of their practice of isolation. If Tsukune were to live in the village with Mizore, then they could have a child every year, for as long as Mizore was capable. Tsurara decide that she had been right not to force her daughter to give up on the boy and let her follow her heart.

As Tsurara prepared supper she considered Tsukune carefully. The boy was popular with girls. His willingness to rescue Mizore had struck a romantic note in the heart of every Snow Maiden in the village. If he did move into the village, that boy might just attract a fresh harem. Tsurara thought about the fact that while Snow Maidens were limited in their number of child baring years, a human male was not so restricted. When Tsurara served up supper she was smiling. If she could make an attractive enough offer, she thought, then perhaps Tsukune might just be willing to make a home in the village even if he did not marry Mizore.

XXXXXXXXXX

Moka and Kokoa returned home with different feelings about it. Kokoa was glad to be home. She liked living in the old manor, where everything she wanted was there for asking, and nobody dared to challenge her personal space. If there was a place that could force her sister to be true to her nature, restoring her to her proper grace and beauty, it was here. Moka saw her trip home as a trial in patience. She would not be free to make friends. Everybody she would meet would be a servant to be used, or someone looking to use her. Her every action would be measured, held up for evaluation to determine if she worthy of her position in the family.

As soon as the sisters were through the door they could tell that something had changed in their father's house. Small touches among the decorations of the front hall told Moka what had happened. Their father had taken a new lover and had appointed her mistress of the estate. It was something her father did every couple of years. Moka disproved of her father's casual regard for other people's feelings. She had seen his lovers trying so hard to prove their worth, never understanding until the end that they were just a form of entertainment.

Kokoa took the change in stride. It meant nothing to her. She expected the new mistress to be much like the others. They all pampered her, seeking her father's favor. Even if Kokoa did not like the current mistress, it didn't mater. Her father's lovers were just propped up servants that Kokoa could just complain to her father about. It never took more the one complaint to father to make any of his lovers toe the line.

"It is good to have you home again," The master of the manor, Shuzen Issa said in a casual tone. He had summoned his daughters to his sitting room by way of inviting them to tea.

"It is good to see you, father," Moka said carefully. As the older of the two daughters present it fell to her to answer first.

"I'm glad to be home," Kokoa smiled.

The sisters were both dressed according to the expectation of their father. Moka felt that she was too dressed up for simply drinking tea at home. Her dress had a high collar, long sleeves, and a full length, layered skirt. Kokoa was dressed in a similar outfit, but with much more lace. Moka's dress was in somber colors while her little sister's was as bright as wildflowers.

"I have heard that you have been very busy," Master Shuzen said. "Moka, your sister has written several letters about your life at school."

Kokoa smiled darkly. Her father was someone that nobody could refuse. He would be able to make Moka act like a proper vampire, even if she insisted on wearing that ridiculous seal.

"I would like to hear from you about your life at school, Moka," Issa directed his daughter to explain what she had been doing.

"I have been applying myself to learning," Moka answered, keeping her words and poise proper for someone of privilege and nobility. "As is the purpose of attending the Youkai Academy, father. It has been an enjoyable experience over all."

"I see," He set his tea aside. "And what of your friends?"

"I have made friends among the other students," Moka gave a small nod. "As is proper for me to do if I am going to be among them. To learn to live among those that are different from us is a part of the goal of attending school."

"Kokoa has informed me that you have been careless with your associations."

"I do not know what you mean, father."

"What of the commoners you associate with?"

"Perhaps Kokoa was referring to the members of the Newspaper Club," Moka suggested.

"Yes," Issa nodded. "Tell me of them."

"I feel that I have made a good choice," Moka answered carefully. "As club participation is a mandatory part of attending school. Shirayuki Mizore was of high birth among her people. She does not show much nobility in her actions, but she is young yet. Kurono Kurumu is only a succubus, but among the human world, she may one day be in a position of infuance. Sendou Yukari is young, but is counted as one of the smartest students attending the academy. Our club's editor, Aono Tsukune has shown himself to be a very capable leader, and is very popular among the students."

"Aono..." Issa's eyes hardened. "That is the one your sister mentioned as chasing after your skirts, seeking to elevate himself by associating with you."

"Kokoa is in error in her perceptions," Moka said, refusing to glare at her grinning little sister. "Aono Tsukune is a valued friend and companion."

"Friend and companion..." Issa's voice dripped with disapproval. "Need I remind you, daughter, that you need to be conscious of your position at all times? If you allow worthless people to associate with you, you will be seen as worthless."

"I do not know any worthless people, father," Moka said firmly.

"Then perhaps you need to look a little closer at your friends." Master Shuzen produced a small bell from his pocket and gave it a jingle. He returned it to his pocket without any change of expression. "When you listed each of your companions," He said with an exaggerated casual tone. "You were careful to list the potential use of each of them, except for the boy. A boy," His tone changed to make the word derogatory. "You call him a valued friend and companion. I do not know what you think you are doing." Before he could say more there came a soft knock at the door.

"You sent for me, Issa?" A woman's voice said as the door opened.

Moka was aware of the newcomer entering the room, but did not take her eyes from her father. The newcomer, a woman, soon moved into Moka's field of view. The woman was dressed in a long, sleeveless gown with a plunging neck line and the front of the skirts cut away showing legs to her upper thighs. The woman moved to stand close beside Moka's father.

"Ahhhh, Mira," Issa said with a cold smile as he made introductions. "These are my youngest daughters. Moka, Kokoa, this is Mira, my valued companion."

"Well hello," Mira said. She was a tall, slender woman with fair skin and light pair white hair. Her dark blue dress made the woman look almost cadaverous. For decoration, a double line of rings were pierced through her skin between her smallish breasts and laced with ribbon.

"I have heard all about you," Mira smiled. "You're Kokoa," She looked towards the youngest vampire in the room. "I hear you are full of energy." Mira looked to Moka next. "And you'er little Moka. You look so sweet."

"Mira," Issa said to her. "Moka was just telling me about a boy she knows at school."

"A boy," She gasped. "Little Moka has a crush. How cute. And does the boy have a crush on you too?" She gave a giggle. "Boys can be such silly things."

"Miss Mira," Moka said, looking at the woman with cold eyes. "Please do not address me with such familiarity, and do not seek to belittle my relationship with Aono Tsukune."

"Relationship?" Issa rumbled, frowning.

"Relationship?" Mira said at the same time. "Oh how precious you are, Little Moka."

"It is Dame Moka," Moka said firmly.

"Oh?" Mira waved away the title. "Nobody wants to be called a dame any more."

"I have earned the position of Dame," Moka said, looking at her father. "It is a shame that your companion knows so little about titles and rolls."

Issa's face darkened. Moka had just pointed out that Mira's ignorance reflected badly on him. It was uncomfortable being embarrassed by his companion in front of his own family.

"And what is your 'relationship' with this boy of yours?" Issa said, taking control of the conversation again.

"He is mine," Moka said with a small nod. "He has sworn himself to me."

"Sworn himself?" Issa's eyebrows with up.

"Yes father," Moka said with a small smile. "I believe that my sister witnessed him giving oath herself."

"Kokoa?"

"I... I..." Kokoa swallowed. "I saw it," She said, crossing her arms and looking away. "But I refuse to accept it. He is just a worthless boy." Kokoa felt her face growing hot. She did not think that Tsukune was really worthless, just that he was not good enough for her beloved sister.

"Again with this," Moka supressed a sigh.

"Tell me, Dame Moka," Issa said, refusing to smile. He was proud that his daughter had earned a title, even if it was in a distant court, but it he felt his pride grown when she had the courage to claim that title. "Why is it that you believe that your boy has some worth?"

"Aono Tsukune has proved himself," Moka explained, hoping her pride and love would not show on her face, or in her voice. "He has challenged those that would threaten my person. When I have called for him, he has come without hesitation. The students of the school respect him as a protector, naming him captain of the Student Police. Should I continue?"

"Please do," Issa nodded.

"Aono has gained the alliance with the Matsumoto Tengue clan," Moka said. "He carries an artifact crafted by a master artisan, and ancestor of their clan."

"I see," Issa agreed that such a connection was worthy of notice.

"While still only a student, he has gained a sworn servant. I witnessed her oath of fidelity myself as she named herself his slave."

"Oh really?" Issa was amused that a school boy was attracting such devotion. "What has your boy done for you that you would so willingly defend his oath to you?"

"It is through our association that I had the opportunity to make the acquaintance Lord Gray," Moka said. She knew this day was coming, if not so soon, and had been preparing her arguments. She hoped she was carrying herself well enough that her words would be given merit, and that she would not sound like a woman in love. "It is through him that I have gained the sworn allegiance of Shirayuki Mizore."

"It seems this young man of yours," Issa said, nodding, "May be a good choice. I begin to wonder why your sister is so opposed to his presence."

"I think," Moka said with a small smirk. "That Kokoa is offended because I will not share him with her. And that he has beaten her in a fight."

"I only want her to share a little," Kokoa pouted in a quiet voice.

"And what is it you want your sister to Share?" Issa questioned.

"Tsukune's yummy blood," Kokoa answered. "He'll never look at me with her around, so she could at least let me have some of his blood."

"My my my," Mira fanned herself with her hand.

"Blood?" Issa looked back at Moka. "You have fed upon this young man of yours?"

"Father," Moka said with a calm smile. "I told you that he has sworn himself to me, and that he is mine. I need only hold out my hand and he will place himself upon it. Tsukune is my willing vessel."

A wide grin split Shuzen Issa's face. His precious daughter had done well in establishing herself as an individual, and not just standing in his own shadow.

"Dame Moka," Issa said, letting his pride fill his tone. "I am proud of you my daughter."

.

(a/n sorry about my sense of humor)