I wrote another FanFic for OHSHH awhile ago. It sucked. I got no reviews from anyone besides my friend who had to be supportive. I'm hoping for better luck this time around. If not—I don't know. Maybe I should accept the fact that no one besides Rin-chan likes my writing.
--Nel
Disclaimer: I do not own Ouran High School Host Club or any of it's characters. If I did, I probably would be trying to work on more manga!!!
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I sit up from my hospital bed, not knowing who I am. I feel like prisoner trapped inside a body I am not familiar within an enviroment that seems less than welcoming. I look around the hospital room: beige walls accompained by this fluorescent lighting that is hurting my eyes. No one is in the room with me except for a few dozens of flowers that are placed in expensive vases like I have seen before.
CRASH. I remember shattering one of these vases or maybe even a look-alike. It caused a lot of trouble. These vases do look pretty nice, they all are large something I don't think anyone with an average income could afford. Maybe I am a princess of some land. I examine my skin, as though I am an alien just to make sure I wasn't abducted by something strange. That's ridiculous. No way could I be abducted aliens aren't even real, and this is something stupid to worry about.
I don't who I am, where I am. Do I have a mother? A father? Friends? Who are these flowers from? Did I get sick from something that causes me not to remember anything? Besides a crash of a vase, that's the only fragment I can remember. I feel a tear come in my eye.
To occupy my time, I look down at my wrist to see the braclet on it. It reads my information in small print and a code next to it. FUJIOKA, HARUHI. Haruhi? That's what they call me?
"Haruhi!" a tall boy yells as he enters the room. Obviously that's what they call me, I think. His blue eyes are sparkling gently, like he has just overcome some tragedy. His blond hair flips around as he grabs a chair to sit next to me. "Are you alright?" I put my head to the side. I can tell he knows me well.
"Haru-chan?" a small voice cries. A tall guy with short black hair walks in with a small child on his shoulders that is smiling down at me. Two boys with pinkish hair walk in and are fighting with each other until the boy with the blond hair looks up at them and they face me with solemn faces. Like this was a funeral or something. After them, another boy with black hair, only it's longer and he has glasses. I reach up to my eyes and feel I have a pair, too.
"She's probably confused," the boy with the glasses says. "She did get hit pretty hard." The kid on the tall boy's shoulders begins crying a little.
"I'm sorry Haru-chan! It was my plate, I shouldn't have been eating cake around you…" He couldn't manage to finish his sentence because his little brown eyes were welling with tears. I wanted to tell him something to comfort him, but I didn't know what to say. Were they my royal court?
"For what?" I finally said. I couldn't remember anything maybe somebody could tell me.
"It's not your fault, Hunny," the blond said to the little boy. Hunny? That is an intresting name. "It'sno one's."
"What?" I asked again. "Hunny?" The little boy bursts into tears again. I look around the room as the identical boys sit there in an unnatural silence and watch me intently.
"According to her chart," says the boy with glasses, "she is suffering amnesia." The room is stunned with silence, except the sniffles from Hunny.
"Amnesia? How do you cure it, Kyoya?" the blond boy asks. I can tell he is very serious about this like my memory is his concern, well, of course it is. I am their princess and all, but why would a little boy drop a plate on my head?
"Well, I have heard of cases where introducing people amnesiacs are close with can help trigger their memory," Kyoya says. I turn my head back to the blond boy. He sighs.
"I am Tamaki Suoh," he says. I keep looking at him. Nothing. Besides a name, he means nothing to me. I looked at him and shook my head. I knew I was expected to know something.
"You don't recognize your own boyfriend?" he asked sweetly, as he petted my hand. I had a boyfriend? Him? I loved him? I must.
"Boy-friend?" I repeated bluntly. It seemed to offend poor Tamaki, because he let go of my hand and looked back at Kyoya, who was shaking his head gently. I had done something wrong, I knew it.
"They are Hikaru and Kaoru, they are first years like you," Kyoya said calmly, as he pointed over two the identical boys. He was the cool type of the group.
"Mori-senpai," he said pointing to the tall boy with the short black hair. "And Hunny-senpai." I looked at everyone and repeated their names.
"Am I a princess?" I asked finally. I seem to have to relation to these boys, but why are they here? Kyoya snorted.
"No not really," Tamaki said sweetly, "but you'll always be my queen." I blushed a little and was starting to become embarassed that I was in a room with a bunch of boys and I was in a hospital gown.
"Only two at a time, boys," the nurse said, "you're lucky I'm letting you in." I wasn't sure who was going to exit first. Probably not Tamaki, since he was my boyfriend. But who was number two? Mori-senpai, Hunny-senpai, Hikaru, and Kaoru exited the room. Only Tamaki stayed with Kyoya, who was going over my chart.
"I'm sorry I don't remember anything Suoh-san." I feel horrible because I can see the look in his eyes that wants me to remember everything. "I really am."
"Haruhi," he sighed, "it's not your fault. None of this is your fault." He reassures me by putting his hand on my cheek. I close my eyes and try to remember more.
Kyoya clears his throat and tries to get our attention. "Do you remember anything at all?" I push my glasses up my nose. I think about it for a second. A crashing vase isn't significant, right? I mean, as a child I could've knocked over my mother's vase, right?
"Well," I say, "I do remember something about a crashing vase."
