ALL NOVEL Prologue: The Dawn of a New Identity
The sun's piercing light seared down, embracing me. As I clutched the hem of my skirt, still not used to this style of clothing, I gazed at the dancing cherry blossoms, their delicate petals caught in a gentle whirlwind of change. It's been a month since I shed the skin of Hiroshi and fully embraced my new identity as Harumi.
"Mama, is breakfast ready?" I called out, still feeling the surrealness of my new voice.
"It's almost ready, dear!" came the warm response from my mother in the kitchen.
One Month Ago
Consciousness returned to me slowly, like the reluctant dawn. I found myself in a hospital room, stark and sterile, starkly contrasting the colorful chaos of my dreams. My gaze fell upon Yuna, asleep in a chair beside me, her hand clasping mine. The slight stirrings of her waking up, perhaps sensing my return to consciousness, caused a gentle squeeze that brought comfort in its familiarity. Her eyes, swollen from tears, lit up at the first flutter of my eyelids.
"Mama, she's awake!" Yuna's voice was a mix of relief and joy, shattering the oppressive silence.
Our mother, a calming force in the midst of my confusion, entered with a gentle admonition for Yuna to keep her voice down. Her eyes, so like mine, were warm and understanding as they met my questioning gaze.
"Harumi, dear, you've been through quite an ordeal," she began, smoothing back a lock of my unfamiliar silver hair. "You've been in a coma for a week. Do you remember the night you collapsed?"
Bits and pieces of that night flickered in my mind - the deep-seated exhaustion, the inexplicable pain, the fleeting image of a shooting star. And then, a wish. A wish born of desperation and a longing to be my true self.
My mother handed me a small hand mirror. As I peered into it, I hardly recognized the person staring back. Long silver hair framed a face with delicate features, purple eyes that shimmered with the hue of dusk yet glowed crimson when my emotions peaked. It was me, yet not the me I had known all my life.
It wasn't just a physical change; it was the manifestation of my deepest longing. Ever since I had the body of a boy, I longed to embrace my true self as a transgender female. Unfortunately, my health condition, particularly my liver, prevented me from undergoing hormone therapy. That's why my transformation held even more significance.
"We're at a special hospital," my mother continued, sensing my silent questions. "It's run by the Blossom Clan, designed for beings like us... and now, like you."
"Like me?" I echoed, my voice a whisper.
"Yes, Harumi. You're a vampire now, part of a lineage that dates back centuries," she explained, her voice steady and reassuring.
As she pet my head calming me, she continued, "I promise I will explain more when we get home. I will let the nurse know you are awake."
Once I was discharged and returned home, my mother shared the history of our family, our ties to the Blossom Clan, and the significance of what I had become. I was a direct descendant of Lilith Nightshade, a figure shrouded in myth and power. My transformation was a manifestation of my deepest desire, facilitated by the latent powers coursing through my veins.
As she spoke, a torrent of emotions overwhelmed me. Tears streamed down my face, not from grief, but from a profound sense of relief and belonging. Yuna, only a year younger and now more like a twin, wrapped her arms around me, her presence a pillar of strength and unwavering support. I drew her into a deep hug, my mother patting our heads from the side, a gesture filled with love and understanding.
I glanced towards the setting sun outside the window, its dying light casting long shadows across the room. "My wish really came true," I murmured, more to myself than anyone else as the tears never stopped falling.
"Do you know something about this, Mama?" I found myself asking as we gathered in the living room, a more intimate space for such revelations. "You don't seem too shocked by all this."
My mother, who had been a constant source of comfort and understanding, offered a gentle smile. "I knew, Harumi. Our family has always been intertwined with the supernatural. And your transformation... it was something anticipated, if not in its exact form."
Yuna, who had been quietly listening, piped up with her usual mixture of shock and awe. "Onee-chan, you're really a vampire? Like, for real?" Her eyes were wide, reflecting her inner turmoil of fear and fascination.
I couldn't help but laugh, despite the heaviness in my heart. "Yes, Yuna, for real." My laughter was a brief respite from the overwhelming tide of emotions.
My mother then did something unexpected. She retrieved a small knife and deliberately cut her finger, a droplet of blood forming at the surface. The sight triggered something primal within me. My throat constricted, my mouth watered, and my eyes—those new, mysterious orbs—flared red.
"Mama, why?" Yuna's voice was laced with concern, but my mother remained calm.
"Come here, Harumi," she beckoned. "This will help you understand."
Reluctantly, I approached, and as I drank the small offering of blood, a rush of vitality flooded through me. It was terrifying and exhilarating all at once. I was able to taste the metallic tang of blood mixed with an underlying sweetness that was unique to my mother, a sensation that was both revolting and invigorating.
"Now, let's sit. There's much to explain," my mother said, guiding us to the table. She spoke of the Blossom Clan, our lineage, and the world that now lay open to me. It was a lot to take in, and as the conversation drifted towards the end, a poignant realization settled over me.
As the evening shadows lengthened, casting a soft, melancholic glow through the house, the weight of my mother's words began to truly settle in. "I'm a vampire," I repeated, the words feeling more real and heavy on my tongue with each utterance.
"Yes, Harumi," my mother said, her voice a soothing balm to my frayed nerves. "But remember, being a vampire is just a part of who you are now. It doesn't define your entire being."
I nodded, trying to absorb the enormity of it all. It was one thing to deal with the physical changes of my transformation, but the addition of vampirism added layers of complexity I had never imagined. My life, once so mundane, had turned into something out of a gothic novel.
Yuna squeezed my hand under the table, her gesture grounding me. "Onee-chan, we're in this together," she said, her voice firm yet filled with warmth. "Whatever comes, we'll face it as a family."
Our mother then explained more about the daily realities of being a vampire—the need to be discreet, the ways to manage my new dietary requirements, and the
importance of maintaining a semblance of normalcy. She spoke of the Blossom Clan's network and how we would never be alone, always supported by a community that understood our unique circumstances.
As night fully embraced the world outside, my mother suggested we prepare for bed. The conversation had drained us all, and we needed rest. But sleep seemed like a distant prospect to me. My mind was too busy racing through the implications of my new reality.
In my room, surrounded by the familiar yet suddenly foreign trappings of my old life, I sat on the edge of my bed, lost in thought. The drawings that lined my walls, once simple expressions of my inner desires, now felt like premonitions. Around me, scattered plushies of various shapes and sizes watched over, a testament to the innocence of childhood now juxtaposed against the complexity of my current existence. Medical equipment, remnants of my past illness, lay neatly organized, a reminder of the fragility of life and the transformative journey I had embarked upon.
I rose and approached the window, gazing out at the moonlit landscape. The world seemed unchanged, yet I knew that I had stepped into a hidden side of it, one filled with shadows and secrets.
"I wish I could become my ideal person," I whispered, echoing the words I had spoken on that fateful night. And as if in response, my reflection in the window shifted, my eyes glowing a soft red before fading back to their usual purple hue.
The night passed in a blur of restless thoughts and half-formed dreams. When morning came, it brought no clarity, only a deep-seated resolve to face whatever lay ahead.