Reincarnated as Dracula’s Son

As they pulled into the school compound, the sleek, polished car hummed to a stop. Damian's mother turned to him, her perfectly manicured hands resting lightly on the steering wheel, her expectant gaze meeting his. For a brief moment, Damian simply stared back, confused by the unspoken message in her expression. It took him a split second to realize what she wanted—he was supposed to get out of the car and head into the building on his own.

The realization surprised him. Somehow, he had assumed she'd follow him, accompanying him into the office to register, fussing over paperwork, and ensuring everything was in place. It was his first day, after all. His parents seemed like the type to hover, overly concerned with appearances and the comfort of their only child. Yet, apparently, that wasn't the case.

"Bye, Mom. Thanks for the ride," he said, masking his surprise as he reached for the door handle.

"Bye, sweetie." Her voice was warm, yet brisk, as if she had other matters to attend to. "Don't worry; we've already spoken with the principal. Just head to the administration office, and everything will be sorted out."

Damian nodded, climbing out of the car. So, they had fussed over him after all—just in a more hands-off way. He supposed it made sense, considering how much they seemed to handle things behind the scenes. The morning sunlight caught the sleek surface of the black sedan parked a short distance away, and Damian couldn't help but notice it. The car was inconspicuous, to the ordinary onlooker, it would seem like a regular car but Damian knew it belonged to max, his mother's bodyguard

As Damian stood by the car, the warm morning sunlight spilled across the pavement, casting long shadows from the trees lining the parking lot. He adjusted his bag on his shoulder, its weight grounding him in this unfamiliar moment. With a faint sigh, he turned to face his mother, who still sat poised behind the wheel, her sharp features softened by the subtle smile on her lips.

The window rolled down with a gentle hum, and she extended her hand, a gesture so effortless it seemed rehearsed. Her fingers were elegant, long and delicate, adorned with rings that caught the light and sparkled like tiny stars. She waved at him with a graceful flick of her wrist, the kind of wave that spoke of quiet confidence and unwavering support.

Her smile widened, radiant and reassuring, as if to say, You'll be fine. "There's a surprise for you!" she called, her voice carrying over the gentle hum of the idling engine. Then, with a graceful turn of the wheel, she drove off, leaving Damian standing there, bewildered.

A surprise?

The words echoed in Damian's mind, circling like a riddle he couldn't solve: A surprise? He turned toward the towering school building, its brick façade warmed by the sunlight, yet imposing in its sheer size. The doors loomed ahead, a threshold to the unknown. His pulse quickened slightly—not from fear, but from the weight of anticipation, the kind that comes when stepping into a new world where every face is unfamiliar.

As he walked, the students milling around the entrance gradually became aware of him. One by one, heads turned, conversations faltered, and the gentle murmur of the crowd shifted into something more focused, more curious. Their gazes followed him, subtle at first, then lingering. He felt the weight of their stares, not hostile but inquisitive, like the sharp edge of a spotlight finding its mark.

Some students nudged their friends, whispering behind cupped hands, their eyes darting back to him. Others were more blatant, their gazes sweeping him up and down, as though trying to piece together who he was and why they hadn't seen him before. Damian felt like a new book on a library shelf, his cover studied for clues about the story within.

He didn't pay them much attention, his thoughts still caught on his mother's cryptic parting words. What kind of surprise? And why spring it on him now?

When he couldn't make sense of it, he shrugged and decided to focus on the task at hand. With a deep breath, he started toward the doors, each step deliberate as he adjusted to the weight of curious eyes. He had just begun to tune out the buzz of the students' conversations when he turned to glance back at the parking lot one last time. His mother's car was gone, the black sedan followed it at a safe distance, blending into the background as if it were just another vehicle in the lot.

And that was when he almost ran into the surprise.

"Damian!"

The voice was familiar, warm, and filled with an enthusiasm that matched the wide grin on the face standing before him. Damian stopped abruptly, his mouth hanging open in surprise as recognition set in.

"Tyrion?" he exclaimed, confused but undeniably pleased to see a familiar face.

There he was—Tyrion, his friend from his former town. His golden-brown hair was slightly tousled, and his ever-present grin hadn't dimmed a bit. He looked as if he belonged here, as though he had been waiting for this moment all along.

"What… how are you here?" Damian asked, his mind scrambling to piece together the situation.

Tyrion laughed, his easy, carefree demeanor as infectious as ever. "How am I? I'm great! Better now that I've found you."

"But how?" Damian pressed, still trying to wrap his head around it. "Shouldn't you be in school right now?"

"I am in school." Tyrion's grin widened, and he gestured toward the entrance. "Come on, let's go. Administration office is this way."

"But… didn't you go to school in my old town?" Damian asked, still walking but now thoroughly confused.

"Used to," Tyrion replied with a nonchalant shrug. "My former town too, now. I convinced my parents to let me stay with my uncle here. Told them it'd be better for my grades or something like that. Worked like a charm." He winked, clearly proud of himself.

Damian blinked, still processing. "So, you're staying here now? Like, permanently?"

"Yep," Tyrion said, his tone light and casual, though there was an undercurrent of satisfaction in his voice. "Isn't it cool?"

"Cool?" Damian repeated, his lips curving into a grin. "It's more than cool. It's awesome."

Tyrion chuckled, clapping a hand on Damian's shoulder as they walked toward the building. For the first time since stepping onto campus, Damian felt a sense of ease settle over him. In a sea of unfamiliar faces, having Tyrion here was like finding an anchor, a piece of his past that had somehow followed him into this new chapter.