the third son of duke olbnious

The reborn

            
                     "...n, ...an, an, Han!"

   The boy's soul jumped out of him as he heard a familiar shout, he turned his head then saw a familiar face, one he wished to never see again, his math teacher's.

   "Han." the teacher called him." How dare you sleep in my class again, do you even come to school to study. All you do is sleep and sleep, wake up during the lunch break, then sleep," he said.

  "I don't even know how you get good grades," he said before stopping for a second to catch his breath.
    "Now get out of my classroom ." he continued.

    The boy stood up, picked up his backpack, and silently got out of the classroom, promptly exiting the school to go to his house.
   He was strangely calm for someone that was kicked out of the class, but when he thought about it, he realized that it became a usual thing in his life.

   Han entered his apartment, or to be more precise his studio, with a solemn expression.
His studio was small and contained a bedroom, a small kitchen, and a bathroom that works like a shower too.
  The bedroom was simple, with little close to no furniture, mostly consisting of an old bed, a wooden desk that seems to be repaired more than once, a closet with little clothes and a black carpet, plus basic like lamps and books.

  Han took a shower, wore his usual pajamas, and began studying for the whole afternoon.
When the sun was setting, he wore something casual and went to work.

   Han walked for a long time before he stopped in front of a door to what looked like a bar.
He entered with a calm gaze, greeted the lone drunk, who just happened, to be his boss, and he went into the staff room near him, to change his clothes.
   This bar was sadly the only place hiring and Han needed the money.
That's how Han began his job as a bartender.

  That was months ago perhaps even longer, Han reminisces as he fills the glasses of customers, with whiskey or some wild cocktail, he is relying solely on his muscle memory.
   Of course, the regulars come to talk to him about their problems, this happens daily, for as long as he has been working here at least, and he believes that he became more of a psychologist than a bartender.

   His shift ended at one o'clock, when Han got out of the bar and it was completely dark outside, there were some people here and there but the walk back to his home was empty.

  Han came across a mall, everything was closed at this time so all the lights were off, he stared at his reflection in the glass doors of the mall.
As he was staring with his face relaxed so he can see his face easily in the dark glass.

    Now that he thinks about it, he didn't look bad, his blue eyes, his small pointy nose, and rose lips fit perfectly with his petite figure, and his straight black hair was so silky and soft like his fair skin.

   As Han was staring at his reflection he noticed a red car fastly approaching him, he panicked, he froze in place, he was like a deer in the literal headlights as the car crashed through the door.

    Blood surrounded Han, he felt so warm and so comfortable as if he was swimming in a luxurious indoor pool, but in seconds he was so cold, freezing cold, he knew the end has come for him so he closed his eyes.

   As he did, he heard voices, strange unfamiliar voices.

     "... master...Young Master, are you alright?"

   He snapped open his eyes, in shock to see strange people calling him young Master, what shocked him more is that they looked like they just left some Renaissance fair.