Nariyuki woke up the way every anime protagonist wakes up after a big plot twist—face down, drooling slightly, and confused like a goldfish trying to solve algebra.
His eyes fluttered open like someone had set him to "slow motion mode." First thing he saw?
Ceiling.
Second thing?
Spider.
Third thing?
No Machio.
"Where the hell—" he sat up so fast he hit his head on the underside of what he now realized was a bunk bed.
"Ma-chan!" he shouted, scrambling to his feet like an untamed raccoon.
But there was no Machio. Just… an empty room. A really weird one. The walls were deep crimson velvet. There were portraits of weird, dramatic people with sharp fangs and snobbish cheekbones. One was eating spaghetti. Upside down. Classy.
Suddenly, the door creaked open.
A little butler—yes, little. Like 4 feet tall. Bald. Wearing sunglasses indoors and a tuxedo with bat wings—walked in holding a silver tray with something suspiciously red.
"Ah, young mortal, you're awake. Lord Marshall L. Lord is expecting you."
"Who the hell is that? And why does that sound like a WWE name!?"
The butler coughed politely. "Please refrain from shouting. The master's bat army gets nervous."
"Bat—wait, did you say Lord?"
"Yes. Lord Marshall L. Lord. The most powerful vampire on this continent, owner of seventeen castles, and part-time opera singer."
Nariyuki blinked.
"Am I… am I in some kind of vampire hostage dream fanfiction fever?"
"You're very specific," the butler replied. "Come. The Lord awaits. Also, your friend Machio is currently being emotionally drained in the basement."
"EMOTIONALLY drained? You mean like he's listening to Spotify breakup playlists or—?"
The butler simply bowed and opened the velvet doors.
Meanwhile… in the Vampire Lord's Grand Dining Hall
Machio groaned as he slowly opened his eyes. He was lying on a fancy sofa. A very dramatic-looking man with long wavy black hair, a blood-red cape, and a suspiciously tiny teacup was looking at him.
"Ah, you're awake," said the man, sipping daintily. "Welcome, young human. I am Marshall L. Lord."
"Are you gonna eat me?" Machio asked flatly.
Marshall L. Lord choked on his tea. "Eat you?! How barbaric! I am vegan."
"Wait, what?"
"Emotionally vegan. I only consume trauma, drama, and occasional heartbreaks. Your aura is like a sad anime arc mixed with daddy issues."
Machio squinted. "Are you drunk?"
"No. Just ancient and fabulous."
Just then, Nariyuki burst into the room, panting. "MA-CHAN!"
"Oh thank god," Machio muttered. "Take me away from this Dracula wannabe."
But Marshall L. Lord stood tall. "ENOUGH! I have summoned you both here for a reason! Tachibana."
At the name, Machio's body went stiff like someone hit the "Pause" button on his soul.
"You know something," said the vampire lord, eyes glowing faintly purple. "You've seen it. The dream."
"You… you mean the one where she died?" Machio asked cautiously.
Nariyuki's eyes widened. "You SAW THAT TOO!?"
Marshall nodded. "Because it was not a dream. It was a memory. A curse. A reality sealed in time."
"What does that even mean!?" Nariyuki shouted. "This is starting to sound like my mom's K-drama folder!"
Marshall flung his cape dramatically, which served absolutely no purpose except to look cool.
"Tachibana… or should I say Toki Go-to, is a vessel. A reincarnation of a vampire princess whose soul is being hunted by the Eternal Council. Her mask hides more than her face—it hides the key to resetting this cursed timeline."
"Bro," Nariyuki whispered to Machio. "I swear to god if she turns out to be like Sailor Moon's cousin or some shit I'm gonna cry."
Machio wasn't listening anymore. His thoughts raced back to Tachibana—the quiet presence, the strange dream, her sudden disappearance.
"Where is she now?" he asked.
Marshall stared at him. "She's here. In the castle. Watching you."
"What."
A panel behind the wall slid open.
Tachibana stepped out.
Still in her mask. Long hair cascading down like she was in a shampoo ad.
"I didn't want you two involved," she said softly.
"Too late!" Nariyuki shouted. "This vampire just called me a vessel and I think I peed a little!"
Tachibana stepped forward. "Machio… I need your help."
He looked at her, hesitant.
"Why me?"
"Because in the past timeline, you died protecting me. And the curse never ended. But now… I think we can change that. Together."
A silence fell.
Then Nariyuki said, "Wait, wait, hold up—hold UP. Are you saying you two are destined lovers cursed across time like in that one anime where everyone cries and turns into sparkles!?"
Tachibana slowly nodded.
"I hate how into this I am," Nariyuki whispered.
Then Marshall held up a scroll.
"To break the curse, you two must seal your bond with… the Pact of Crimson Hearts."
Machio blinked. "Sounds romantic."
Tachibana looked away. "It involves biting. And maybe a small ceremony."
"LIKE A VAMPIRE WEDDING!?" Nariyuki screamed.
"It's temporary," Marshall said quickly. "Just a spiritual binding ritual. Happens all the time in vampire communities. Like prom, but bloodier."
Machio looked at Tachibana again.
He took a deep breath.
"Alright. Let's do it."
Suddenly, dramatic gothic violin music started playing from somewhere. No one questioned it.
Marshall handed them the scroll.
Tachibana and Machio pressed their hands together, and the scroll glowed.
In that moment, the mask fell from her face.
Machio gasped.
She was beautiful.
Like unfairly, anime-protagonist level beautiful.
"Holy shi—" Nariyuki whispered. "She looks like she belongs on a forbidden romance light novel cover."
Machio blinked. "Why were you hiding your face?"
Tachibana smiled faintly. "Because in the last timeline, someone said my beauty started a war."
"Honestly," Nariyuki said, "same."
Then Marshall clapped. "It is done! The pact is sealed. You now share a soul-thread. Which means if one dies… the other dies too."
"Wait, what?" both Tachibana and Machio shouted.
Nariyuki burst out laughing. "HAHAHA! YOU'RE BONDED NOW! LIKE TWILIGHT BUT WITH MORE CONSENT!"
And that was the beginning of the love pact, the mystery unravelling, and Nariyuki refusing to let them have a single peaceful moment begin now