And if, you don't love me now
You will never love me again
I can still hear you saying
You would never break the chain (Never break the chain)

-The Chain; by Fleetwood Mac


(A/N):

Just a heads up for you guys, this story will have some dark themes in it. While the themes themselves won't be written in extensive detail, they will be alluded to, ya know? A few little hints here and there, maybe a quick brief mention of it on occasion. I'll try to keep it as brief as I can, though. But if any of you are sensitive to dark themes in stories, especially ones that cover child abuse, then maybe this story isn't for you. I don't want to make anyone uncomfortable or trigger anything for anyone here.

Thank you for your time.

Jordyn MacTavish


Oh no. Oh God no. This can't be happening; not again. It felt too soon for it to be really happening again. Rani was still recovering — psychologically, emotionally, and physically — from all the issues that happened last time. But now it's happening. It's going to be happening all over again. And Rani was anything but prepared.

Rani attempted to force down the bile rising in her throat, attempting to stop herself from throwing up, but it didn't work. The bile kept rising and her stomach was knotting. Her head was spinning and her eyes were filling with tears. What was she supposed to do? Was she ready to undergo everything again? The sleepless nights and the busy days? The thought of having to care for two children had her heart jump in her throat and the air get knocked out of her. On top of that, the bile and stomach-knotting overtook her, causing Rani to rush to the toilet, praying she'd make it in time. Vomit spewed from her mouth, making it to the toilet in the nick of time. Rani continued heaving into the toilet bowl, gagging and spitting; she wanted to empty her stomach, making sure she had nothing left to throw up. When she was done, when she had nothing left to expel, she was left breathing heavily beside the toilet, her hair damp with sweat and her eyes bleary. Swallowing thickly, Rani adjusted herself so she was sitting comfortably on the ground. Sniffling, she let out a strangled sigh.

She couldn't believe it. She didn't want to believe it. Rani Yamamoto, pregnant with baby #2. Maybe if she had been older and married, the thought of having another baby wouldn't be so terrifying, but since she was only a teenager — sixteen at that — the realization was horrifying. And it's not like a boy from school got her pregnant, either. Rani wasn't allowed to attend public school. Her uncle forbid her from leaving the apartment. He didn't want to risk anyone finding out.

A scowl came over Rani's face. The thought of her uncle always put her in a foul mood. He was her legal guardian, put in charge of her when her mother could no longer support her. In a way, Rani found it humorous, the thought of living with her uncle. Her mother came from Venezuela, and she didn't become a Japanese citizen until a year and a half after Rani's birth. The teen had little to no knowledge on her father. What she did know, however, was he came from an upper class Japanese family and abandoned Rani's mother while she was pregnant.

Slowly standing up, the teen huffed and ran her hands over her face. She had to figure something out. She had to figure out how to hide the pregnancy tests from her uncle, and she had to figure out how to keep the whole situation a secret. At least until she had something figured out.

He's going to find out eventually, she thought. You can only hide a pregnancy for so long.

Rani's first pregnancy had her walking on eggshells the whole nine months. Her uncle had been very unhappy with the discovery, but he did his best to control himself. When the teen's daughter was born, she assumed things would change. They didn't. Things went right back to the way they were. But at least Rani had something to fight for, something to protect. Her daughter, Aimi, was the light of her life. The one person who truly cared and relied on her. Rani would gladly lay down her life to keep Aimi safe.

Quickly grabbing the tests, Rani opened the bathroom door and turned off the lights. Shuffling down the hall, the teen's mind was going a mile a minute. She should've seen it coming. The way things were going, she should've taken it more seriously. It wasn't until Rani's period was late that she began to feel scared. It wasn't until she felt sick in the morning and couldn't eat certain foods that she began to feel scared.

You're pathetic, a dark voice whispered. That little voice resided in the back of Rani's mind, coming out far too often for her liking. You're weak. You're letting all of this happen to you, and soon, Aimi will go through the same thing.* He likes young girls, you know this. She'll go through the same thing because you're not strong enough. You're not good enough.

"Shut up," Rani hissed, squeezing her eyes shut. She stopped walking for a moment, trying to push that thought out of her head. "I am not weak. I am not pathetic. Aimi will be fine. I will be fine. This baby will be fine."

Taking a deep breath, Rani let it out before continuing down the hall. That little voice always tried to bring her down, always tried to twist everything into being her fault. It didn't matter if it was big or small, that damned voice always tried telling Rani it was her fault. But how could any of what she went through be her fault? She didn't ask for any of it. She didn't ask for her mother to be distant and cold. She didn't ask for her father's abandonment. And she certainly didn't ask for her uncle's guardianship. He was a pig, and it took Rani far too long to realize it.

Turning into her bedroom, Rani was greeted with the usual sight — filthy clothes piling in a laundry bin, her bed unmade and Aimi in her crib. The room as a whole had no decorations; Rani's uncle didn't think she deserved anything like that. Not even to keep Aimi distracted on particularly bad days. Instead, mother and daughter were forced to look at a room with dingy wallpaper and stained wooden floors. The apartment itself, aside from its own filthiness, had a particularly unpleasant smell, one that clung heavily in every room in the little living space. Rani tried keeping a window open, hoping for even a little fresh air, but it never helped. The smell clung to everyone and everything. The only thing that could keep the teen's mind off the smell and ugliness of her home was her daughter. Aimi, at only eighteen months, was the ray of sunshine in Rani's life, the one thing keeping her sane despite everything. The infant took immense pleasure in being in her mother's company, lighting up the instant her eyes met Rani's.

"Mama!" Aimi exclaimed, bouncing happily in her crib. "Mama!"

Smiling, Rani stuffed the pregnancy tests in her pockets and approached her daughter, picking her up. "Hey, sweetie," she cooed. Aimi wrapped her arms around her mother, stretching them as far as they could go. The pure happiness the toddler had for her mother was like a breath of fresh air. "Mama loves you," Rani said sweetly, adjusting her daughter on her hip. "Right? Mama loves you."

One of Aimi's hands went and gently smacked Rani's face, a giggle coming from the toddler's mouth. Rani couldn't stop herself from laughing. Gently kissing the top of her daughter's head, the young mother let out a soft sigh. She had to figure something out. She'd have to find a way to get out of the apartment and verify her pregnancy. She had to know for sure. There was a part of Rani that wanted to believe her body was playing tricks on her, that the tests were somehow wrong and there was no second baby. But, deep down, she knew better. She recognized the signs and she knew what to expect. When she was pregnant with Aimi, things had been very difficult. There was not a single easy day that whole nine months.

How can I possibly sneak out of here without him noticing? Rani thought. Her uncle was a very perceptive man. He could catch onto things rather quickly, which made hiding secrets from him impossible. While he may not notice she's expecting right away, he'd notice something off about his niece almost immediately. I have to do something, she thought. I have to come up with some kind of plan. If he finds out I'm having another child, then he'll lose his mind.

Having to deal with her uncle's wrath was one thing, but dealing with it while pregnant was something else entirely. She couldn't do it. She couldn't. Rani and Aimi didn't deserve to be treated like trash, they didn't deserve to be hurt.

Aimi gave Rani something to live for, but it hadn't always been that way. While the teen loved her daughter immensely, she did feel like her child trapped her. Trapped to the very man who was supposed to take care of her. But now, all this time and three positive tests later, Rani wasn't going to let herself relive those feelings. She was going to leave her uncle. She was going to take their child — their children — with her and start over. Rani was going to stop being the victim and get herself the life she deserved. All she had to do was leave the apartment and find a doctor. All she needed, just in that moment, was a little clarification.


(A/N):

Sorry for the wait on this chapter. Hopefully you guys find something decent in it, if you don't, I understand. Like I mentioned at the beginning, this chapter will allude to some dark themes. If you're uncomfortable with the mentions of child abuse, then I'd suggest getting out of here. If you decide to keep reading, then be sure to leave constructive criticism where you think it's due.

Do I own anything in the Host Club fandom? No. No I don't. All I own are my OCs, my subplots, and the laptop I'm typing on. If you've got ideas for OCs or subplots, be sure to PM me or leave a review. I'll add them in as soon as possible.

In the "PROFILE" section, there'll be a more in-depth look at my OCs. You guys can go there and check out what I've got so far. Be sure to PM me or leave a review in the respective story if you've got any questions.

Again, leave constructive criticism if you decide to continue with this story. I'd love to know how I can improve.

Peace out!

Jordyn MacTavish