Blade blood and death

Blood poured relentlessly from the gaping wound in Kyle's torso. At this rate, bleeding to death was only a matter of time.

His older brother cradled him in trembling arms, apologising over and over again.Kule could smell the warm caramel and sandalwood scent that his brother always carried as he unwillingly relaxed in his embrace.

"I'm sorry... I'm so sorry..." Kieran kept saying.

Coward.

Kyle almost laughed. Kieran hadn't even had the courage to face him alone. Instead, he'd staged the whole thing, convincing himself that Kyle wanted to steal his place as the Yakuza's successor simply because he excelled at almost everything.

Impulsive, he was now calling it, having already hired people to gut out his insides. Maybe he hadn't hired them really, but it didn't make a difference anyway.

What a joke.

Kieran knew better than anyone that Kyle hated responsibility. He would never have accepted the position—not in a hundred lifetimes. All he'd ever wanted was enough money to die rich. He had never taken on any heavy gang duties unless completely necessary and had made sure to complain afterwards.

So why?

Why betray him?

Why, with barely thirty minutes left before the end of his fourteenth birthday, was Kieran pressing a single hundred-dollar note into his hand while his platinum card still sat untouched in his pocket? Of course he knew that Kyle's only death wish was to die while holding the highest money available to him in his hands. Couldn't he have waited until Kyle had finished lamenting about the,in his own judgment, poorly acted movie they had just watched before having him killed.

Kyle had always believed he was the most handsome person in the world. Yet that hadn't stopped two men from kicking him to the ground while the one with striking green eyes and snow-white hair carved an X across his torso without the slightest hesitation.

Must the world be so cruel to beautiful people?

No.

If he survived this, he'd make them pay. He touched his wound and could feel blood leaving his body at an even faster rate. He felt faint. No amount of pressure could tame this bleeding as it were.

His vision dimmed as Kieran's voice dissolved into the darkness.

Was this what death felt like?

Then why could he still remember every moment so clearly?

The ambush. The dark alley. The broken streetlights he'd dismissed as the work of high school delinquents. The movie Kieran had taken him to for his birthday only hours earlier.

How stupid he'd been.

They had promised their late mother they would always protect each other. Kyle had always been selflessly true to this promise. Yet this wasn't even the first time Kieran had led him to his death.

On his tenth birthday, he'd lured Kyle straight into the path of the same white-haired boy, who crushed his skull with a baseball bat while two others stood watch.

On his sixth, he'd promised to introduce him to his friends near a cliff. The white-haired boy had been waiting there too. One push. Jagged rocks. Death.But even now,Kyle could still not fathom the faves of his other three killer

It was as though something had shattered inside his mind, allowing fragments of forgotten memories to resurface while keeping the rest buried, lost to oblivion.

Would he wake up thirteen this time? Would yhe world adjust like ot always does everytime he reawakens after his deaths?

A strange heat spread through his body, battling an icy chill that seeped into his bones.

Dead people weren't supposed to feel anything, let alone feverish, well, that was what he thought. He had not carried experiences of his previous death to this day. Or maybe they were,...Were they?

Voices drifted around him, distant and unintelligible. They rose and fell for what felt like hours before exhaustion finally pulled him into darkness once more.

---

Kyle awoke in an unfamiliar bed.

Not because it was uncomfortable, but because everything about it felt wrong. The sheets were a different colour from the ones he remembered. The quilt carried a faint floral scent. There was also some noise coming from outside which should not be possible given his sound proofed walls.

Footsteps approached.

His body tensed instinctively. An inbuilt body response. He was ready to flup the person over and pin them on the bed.

Before he could react, a beautiful woman rushed over and wrapped him in a crushing embrace.

"You had your mother worried sick yesterday, Kyle. I truly thought I'd lost you." Her voice trembled with relief. "We were supposed to be celebrating your thirteenth birthday, not nursing a fever. Tell me, did you play in the rain again? I warned you you'd fall ill, didn't I?"

"Leona," another woman said with an amused sigh as she entered the room, "the poor boy has only just opened his eyes. If you hug him any tighter, he won't be able to breathe. Give him a moment."

Kyle stared at the two women in confusion.

"Thirteenth birthday?" he repeated slowly. "What... what date is it today?"

That couldn't be right. He had celebrated his fourteenth birthday yesterday.

And more importantly...

He didn't have a mother. At least, not one who looked like this. His mother was most definitely not Japanese, that was his father.

His thoughts came to an abrupt halt as another horrifying realisation dawned on him.

He couldn't feel... well...

That.

His eyes widened.

He was a girl.

Had he really been lucky enough to repeat another year?

"Silly child, you turned thirteen yesterday." Leona chuckled as she pinched his cheeks. "Today is the twenty-third day of the eleventh lunar month, in the nine hundred and sixty-fourth year. Has the fever muddled your head?"

Kyle forced a smile before thanking her and asking for some fresh air. To his surprise, she agreed without protest.

The moment he stepped outside, he froze.

This wasn't a bedroom.

It was a harem. Thay explained the noise. There were young ladies and women trying their best to reach his level of beauty but failed miserably. Kyle was grateful that his supposed mother was quite the fair maiden.

His gaze drifted to a polished bronze mirror near the entrance.

A stranger stared back at him. Black hair framed a youthful face with warm caramel skin and striking onyx eyes. Different... yet somehow familiar. The boy.....girl? Had asian features despite the caramel tone. Who knew that he would still be half Asian even in another world? Kyle looked at himself again. There was a slight S like beauty mark at the side of his left eye that was especially prominent when he attemped a smile. He felt charmed himself.Ridiculously good-looking!

Kyle let out a quiet breath. At least the universe hadn't completely betrayed him.

His hand instinctively brushed his jaw before his expression carefree. It wasn't just his appearance that had changed.He remembered.Fragments of another person's life flooded his mind like a river breaking through a dam.

A girl. A princess forced to live as a prince. A kingdom where princes were treasured while princesses were little more than political tools, destined for marriage or the king's harem. A mother who had sacrificed everything to protect her daughter's secret. A boy with no magic in a world where magic was everything.

Kyle stood silently as the memories settled into place.So...He hadn't travelled back in time.He had travelled somewhere else.The Island Empire. Commonly known as The Isles. Most Japanese had heard of them, let alone the son of a mob boss.He recognised the name immediately. An isolated empire of ten kingdoms where people wielded magic, yet still followed a lunar calendar despite influences from the western world.

Before he could organise his thoughts—Something slammed into his stomach.A sharp, burning pain exploded through his body.Kyle looked down.A dagger protruded from his abdomen.

"...Seriously?"

For a heartbeat, he simply stared at it in disbelief before wrapping his fingers around the hilt and yanking it free with a sharp hiss.

Pain exploded through his body.

Blood soaked his clothes almost instantly.

He tore a strip from the hem of his shirt and pressed it firmly against the wound before leaning against the nearest wall.

Footsteps rushed towards him.

"Keep pressure on the wound!" someone shouted.

Kyle shot the approaching figure a flat look. "I'm already doing that."

"I'm sorry!" the stranger called out as he closed the distance. "I didn't see you standing there until after I'd thrown it."

Kyle finally looked at him properly.

Raven-black hair. Emerald-green eyes.

His heartbeat stumbled.

For the briefest moment, another pair of green eyes flashed through his mind—cold, emotionless, watching as a white-haired boy carved an X across his chest.

His grip tightened around the bloodstained cloth.

Get a hold of yourself. This isn't Japan. Besides... green eyes weren't exactly rare.

The resemblance was nothing more than an unfortunate coincidence.

...Right?

Well...

At least he was good-looking.

"If you don't know how to throw a dagger," Kyle snapped, "then maybe don't throw one, damn it! Were you trying to kill me? This hurts like hell."

The stranger blinked.

Then, to Kyle's complete confusion, he laughed. Not a mocking laugh. A genuinely amused one.

Only then did Kyle notice the embroidered imperial dragon stitched across the man's training robes.

...

Oh.

That wasn't just anyone.

That was Adrian.

The Crown Prince of the Island Empire.

Well...

Too late to take it back now.

Still smiling, Adrian stepped forward.

"I'll walk," Kyle said before the Crown Prince could so much as reach for him.

"You've lost a considerable amount of blood."

"I've also got legs."

Adrian raised an eyebrow and stepped aside. "Very well."

Kyle pushed himself away from the wall.

One step.

Two.

Three.

The world tilted violently. His vision blurred, and his knees buckled beneath him.

Before he could hit the ground, a pair of steady arms caught him.

Kyle let out an irritated groan. "...That didn't count."

Adrian chuckled. "I'll pretend I didn't see it."

Without waiting for another protest, he lifted Kyle into his arms as though he weighed nothing.

"Azura," Adrian called over his shoulder, "bring the imperial healers to Prince Kyle's chambers in the harem."

"At once, Your Highness," Azura replied, the faintest hint of mockery colouring his tone.

Kyle sighed in defeat. "Fine... but leave my mother out of whatever punishment you're planning."

Adrian glanced down at him, looking genuinely puzzled. "Punishment?"

"I just insulted the Crown Prince."

"You did."

"And?"

"And I stabbed you first."

Kyle blinked. "...Fair enough."

"So I'll make it up to you."

"You've already called the healers."

"That isn't enough."

"It is for me."

"I'm afraid I disagree."

Kyle sighed. "You're one persistent prince."

"I've been called worse."

---

By the time they reached the harem, Leona was already waiting outside. The moment she saw the blood staining Kyle's clothes, her face drained of colour.

She immediately bowed. "Your Highness, please forgive him. My son meant no disrespect."

Adrian shook his head. "There is nothing to forgive."

The healers arrived moments later. Kyle watched in fascination as warm light gathered around their hands and sealed the wound before his eyes. The pain, however, stubbornly remained.

Either magic isn't as miraculous as people claim... or they decided I wasn't worth the extra effort.

Either way, at least he wasn't bleeding anymore.

Adrian folded his arms. "Now," he said, "about your compensation."

Kyle had no intention of asking for anything.

Fortunately, Leona had other ideas.

"If it isn't asking too much..." she began carefully, "would Your Highness help my son prepare for the Royal Academy? He has never received proper training."

Adrian didn't even hesitate. "I won't find him a tutor."

Leona blinked.

"I'll train him myself."

Silence settled over the courtyard.

"That way," Adrian continued, "I'll know he's receiving the best instruction, and I can personally make amends." He turned to Kyle. "We'll begin in five days."

Leona lowered her head. "Thank you, Your Highness."

The Crown Prince departed not long after.

The courtyard, so lively only moments ago, fell into an almost unsettling silence.

Leona remained where she stood, watching the direction Adrian had disappeared until she was certain he was gone.

Only then did she turn to Kyle.

Without warning, she flicked his forehead.

"Ow!"

"That," she said, folding her arms, "was for frightening me."

Kyle rubbed the sore spot and looked away. "I got stabbed. Surely that earns me some sympathy."

"You got stabbed because you wandered into a training ground."

"...Details."

Leona sighed, though the corners of her lips betrayed her.

"I truly thought I had lost you yesterday."

Her voice had become so quiet that Kyle almost missed it.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

Then she stepped forward and gently brushed a loose strand of hair from his face.

"You've been different since waking up."

Kyle's heart skipped. Had she noticed?

"I have?"

"You seem..." She searched for the right words. "...older."

Kyle forced out a laugh. "I almost died."

"I suppose that would make anyone grow up a little."

She smiled, but there was something uncertain behind it. As if she wanted to ask another question. As if she was afraid of the answer.

Instead, she simply cupped his cheeks.

"Whatever happens at the Royal Academy..." she said softly, "...promise you'll come home safely."

The words lingered in the air.

Kyle studied her face. The previous host's memories told him this woman wasn't his mother. She should have felt like a stranger.

So why... why did those worried eyes make his chest tighten?

"...I'll try," he replied at last.

It wasn't the promise she wanted. But it was the only one he could honestly make.

Leona smiled anyway. "That's enough for me."

As she disappeared back into the harem, Kyle remained alone in the courtyard.

His hand drifted to the place where the dagger had pierced him. The wound had vanished. The ache hadn't.

He looked up at the endless blue sky.

One day in this world... and he'd already been killed. Well... almost.

Kyle let out a long sigh.

"I really know how to make first impressions."