The time was the early 1800’s. Keigo Takami was dressed in the heights of fashion, having on an expensive silk vest atop a white dress shirt that sported long, draping sleeves with a high collar skimming his jaw. He hated this—being forced to fit into the mind games of the rich while people were out there dying. He wanted-no, had to make a difference. But, alas, his father was forcing him into a winter’s ball tonight in hopes of securing a match. That, however, couldn’t have irked Keigo less.