The salty breeze stirred faint ripples across School's rooftop garden, where Machio lay sprawled in an awkward heap. The sun was already climbing high, its harsh light glaring down on his half-conscious form. Slowly, his eyelids fluttered open, revealing eyes that blinked against the sudden brightness — and then widened in shock.
His skin tingled, not unpleasantly, but with an unfamiliar pulse. He shifted his arm, only to freeze as he caught sight of the strange crimson markings sprawling across his forearm like veins of burning embers.
"What the—?"
The marks shimmered faintly, glowing softly like embers from a dying fire. Machio's heart thumped loud in his chest, adrenaline flooding through him. This wasn't just a hangover from the weird beach episode… this was something else. Something bigger.
Just then, the rooftop door swung open with a quiet click. Dema Hikami stepped through, her fire fairy aura subtly glowing under the sunlight, casting faint flickers of red and orange light in the air around her.
"Morning," she said softly, her eyes locked on Machio's glowing marks without surprise. "You're awake. And… interesting."
Machio sat up, brushing sweat and sand from his shirt. "Dema? What are you doing here so early?"
She folded her arms, watching him carefully. "I've been keeping tabs on you. Since the Crimson Resonance started—"
Machio's jaw tightened. "Yeah, about that. What exactly is Crimson Resonance?"
Dema's gaze darkened, her voice lowering. "It's a rare and dangerous power, Machio. One that ties you to the ancient Blood Pact sealed within this city long ago. Your body is reacting to something you barely understand yet. And it's attracting attention."
"Attention?" Machio frowned. "From who?"
"The Vampire High Council," Dema said grimly. "They're not just meddling anymore. They're tightening their grip on Mishima High. And you—"
"You think I'm some kind of pawn," Machio finished for her, bitterness creeping into his voice.
Dema sighed, stepping closer. "It's not about pawns or power games. It's about survival. You have something inside you that could tip the balance. The Council wants to control it—or destroy it."
Machio clenched his fists. "I'm not a weapon. I'm just a guy who somehow ended up in the middle of this madness."
"Maybe," Dema said, a flicker of softness in her voice. "But sometimes, the world doesn't care what you want."
Suddenly, a faint, almost inaudible whimper broke the tense silence. Machio's gaze snapped toward the rooftop stairwell where Tachibana stood quietly, leaning against the wall. Her usually confident eyes were clouded with something new—vulnerability.
"Tachibana?" Machio called gently.
She looked away, biting her lip. "I… I overheard some things. About the Council. About you."
Machio shifted to sit more upright, concern knitting his brow. "You're worried?"
She nodded. "More than that. My family… they're tied to the vampires. More than you know. The Crimson Judge—they were involved. And now that power is stirring again…"
Machio's mind reeled. Every step deeper into this world seemed to unravel more secrets.
Dema glanced at Tachibana, then back to Machio. "You need to decide where your loyalties lie. Between those who seek control and those who fight for freedom."
Machio looked at his glowing arm again, the crimson veins pulsing like a heartbeat. A strange calm settled over him. For the first time, the chaos inside didn't feel quite so overwhelming.
"I don't know what I am yet," he said quietly. "But I do know one thing—I'm not letting this ruin everything. Not my friends. Not my life."
Dema's expression softened. "Good. Because the Council won't wait long. They'll come for you soon."
Machio's shoulders squared. "Then I'll be ready."
Tachibana stepped forward, placing a tentative hand on his arm, where the crimson glow flickered beneath her touch.
"We're with you," she said. "All of us."
The rooftop seemed to pulse with unspoken promises as the sun rose higher, casting long shadows over a city about to be shaken to its core.
---
Later that day, Machio sat alone in his room, tracing the intricate crimson patterns on his skin. Each line seemed to pulse in time with his heartbeat, whispering secrets he couldn't yet understand. The power felt like a living thing — raw, hungry, and unpredictable.
He remembered his past — his struggles to keep up appearances as the lucky "harem king" whose ridiculous antics kept everyone laughing. But now, that mask felt fragile. The power inside him was a reminder that his life was no longer just a comedy.
His phone buzzed with a message from Azumi: "Be careful. Things are shifting faster than you think. We need to talk."
Azumi. His mom. The one person who had always been both his fiercest protector and his greatest mystery.
Machio swallowed hard. He wasn't ready for the full truth. Not yet.
---
Meanwhile, Dema stood by the window in her family's modest apartment, watching the city below. The fire fairy blood coursed through her veins, igniting a burning conflict inside her heart.
She had always walked a fine line — loyal to her clan, but drawn inexplicably to Machio's chaotic light. He was reckless, unpredictable, and yet, strangely pure.
Could she betray her own people to protect him? Or would the Crimson Judge's shadow force her hand?
Her fingers curled into a fist. There was no time for hesitation.
--
Later that evening, Tachibana sat alone in the school's quiet library, flipping through an ancient tome hidden beneath a loose floorboard — a relic of her family's vampire lineage.
The pages whispered of blood pacts, cursed judges, and a crimson legacy that bound her family to the fate of Mishima High.
Her breath caught on the line that chilled her soul:
"When the Crimson Judge awakens, the bloodline must either rise or be severed forever."
Her hands trembled.
Machio's fate—and hers—were intertwined in ways she was only beginning to understand.
---
Nightfall Promises
The night wrapped Mishima High in a velvet cloak as Machio stepped onto the rooftop once again, crimson markings faintly glowing under the moonlight.
Dema appeared beside him silently, her fiery aura now a comforting warmth.
"We don't know what the future holds," she said softly.
Machio nodded. "But whatever happens, we face it together."
Tachibana joined them, the three figures standing united against the encroaching darkness.
The Crimson Judge's echo was growing louder. The ancient war had begun.
---
To be continued