Pounding.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Like the sound of a giant's footsteps, my head throbbed as I cracked open my eyes. Light invaded, like a parasite wishing to feed off of my vision. It hurt, so I shut my eyes again and opened them slowly; this time, I adjusted, and the room swam as my eyes continually ran out of focus. I brought my knees up to my chest, resting my elbows on them and covering my eyes with my hands. I proceeded to run my fingers through my hair, wanting to feel the usual long, silkiness that I hardly needed to maintenance. When my fingers stopped short, where my hair was suddenly cut off and felt rough, I almost panicked. I couldn't remember at first. But then I realized that my hair was burnt off, and I worried about what else that happened. I must have been on sedatives; my left arm was in a cast, and I couldn't feel it, but my ribs ached distinctly.

The room, which had a shut and locked window and drawer next to my bed, was completely white. An EKG blipped on the other side. Needles were everywhere in my skin; before I pulled them out, I unplugged the monitor so it wouldn't alert the nurses. Then I hastily ripped out the needles, not caring that I cut my skin in the process. Hospitals reeking of lemons and disinfectant were not where I needed to be.

There were no mirrors in my room; I could not inspect the damage. However, my clothes, consisting of a black tank top, black shorts, and a black sleeveless trench that came down to my calves sat atop a chair, which was, of course, devoid of any visitors.

Nobody knew me.

Nobody could visit.

I did not exist.

I slipped off the sling and dressed, noting tears and dried blood on the leather of my trench and shrugged it off. At the very least, I would appear to have been in a bar fight and hopefully no one with common courtesy would bother me. I stuck my hands in my pockets and looked down at my feet as I left my room. Blood ran down my right arm through a bandage and dripped off of my middle finger as I walked. Panic seized me; I was afraid of blood. With the sudden need to vomit, I rushed out of the hospital. Naturally, someone always notices, and someone cried after me, "Wait! You aren't supposed to leave!"
but I was blazing out of there, stopping for about twenty seconds to throw up in a bush, but then I kept running. My freedom would not be taken and there were more important things for me to do. I checked my phone, which was in the back pocket of my shorts: 7:32.

I was late for my first day at Ouran.

I arrived at Ouran half an hour later; I had only spared enough time to run back home, grab my bag, and use my motorcycle to get to Ouran. By the time I picked up my books and schedule in the office (the secretary of whom gave me a disapproving look) and knocked on the door of what I hoped was the right class, there were only eight minutes before the bell would ring for second period. A seemingly young woman with brown hair in a bun and glasses opened the door for me. "And you are probably our new student. You are late. Very late. Let me see your schedule and take a seat. Why are you not wearing your uniform? What kind of clothes are those? What happened to your hair? Why are you wea-" I held up my hand and closed my eyes, exhaling deeply with what was probably an irritated expression on my face. I looked her in the eyes with an expression of "Don't. Please." and she zipped her lips, nodding firmly. "Morning detention. One week. Not a very good impression, young man."

I paused.

Did she just call me a man?

This was going to give me serious self confidence issues...

Did I really look like a dude?

I nodded, not bothering to correct her. It didn't matter to me, and if I looked like a guy, that was my problem. I took my schedule from her hands, and sat in the back corner of the room. In front of me were two orange-haired boys with grey eyes that I noticed kept glancing back at me; I didn't mind. If I weren't me, I would look at me too... if that made any sense. To my left was a boy with chocolate brown eyes and matching hair who was courteous enough not to stare, and instead read a book. I hated the fact that I actively smelled like smoke and the tangy scent of blood filled my nose. I tried to hold my breath and think about anything else but red. But naturally, we all have to breathe sometime and I just did my best to hold back my gag reflex.

I scratched the grains of wood on my desk with a smoke-grayed fingernail and glanced shyly at the boy on my left. I asked in a hoarse, raspy, worn voice, "What book are you reading?" and he looked up sharply, surprise and shock registering on his face for a fraction of a second before flashing a charming smile. "Petals on the Wind by V.C. Andrews."

I nodded. It was common ground and at least I could take assurance in knowing I wouldn't be completely alone.

"V.C. died back in 1986 of breast cancer and was replaced by a ghost write named Andrew Neiderman." I said, looking back down at my desk so I didn't have to look him in the eyes. I could hear shock in his surprisingly feminine voice. "I had no idea! He writes just like her..."

I nodded. "I didn't know until a few months ago, mainly because she died before any of us were born."

One of the orange-haired boys turned around to look at the chocolate haired one. "Got a new friend, Haruhi? Boy, you sure hang out with some strange commoner folk."

The other one joined in. "Yeah." He looked at me pointedly. "You do look like you dressed as if you came right out of a dumpster... or a war zone."

I blushed madly in embarrassment. As much as I tried not to let anyone get to me, I could understand what they were thinking from the way I was dressed and I still had the capacity to be humiliated. I crossed my arms and laid my head in them, not letting anyone see my face. I successfully held in my tears of shame.

This Haruhi, however, did not hold in his cries of anger. "That was uncalled for, Hikaru, Kaoru! Apologize!"

They both sighed audibly. "If it means that much to you. We're sorry, commoner." They said in unison.

I promptly ignored them, and was literally saved by the bell. I was the first one out of the door.

I also discovered that I had Honors Chemistry with the trio, though I sat too far away from them to interact (thank the lord) and Physical Education, but I did not have clothes so I did not participate. In Trigonometry, I sat beside Haruhi, but we did not interact. She apologized for how the twins had behaved that morning, but I merely nodded my head and buried my face in my math textbook.

By the time the end of lunch rolled around, I decided this school was a living hell.

I was originally sitting by myself on a bench in the courtyard for lunch. I didn't want to be bothered. However, a group of sneering boys whose uniforms were sloppily untucked and smelled of grease and cigarette smoke advanced upon my personal bubble. "Hey. Newbie." sneered one, and laughed. "Whatcha doin' sitting there all alone? Surely trash of your level would be hanging out with some low-life losers." He bent down to look me in the eye. I stared at the ground. "Why don'tcha look at me, scum? Too scared to stand up for yourself?" His smirk grew wider at my silence.

My head spun. I would never hurt anyone, not even scum. I couldn't hurt these guys if they attacked me... it was against my moral code, and I would get in trouble. I continued to stare at the ground, but instead of remaining silent, I decided to fight with words. I answered the oily, pimple-faced boy. "If I were to hang out with trash that you say I am equal to... would you not be referring to yourself? I dare say you people are not my type of crowd and are obnoxiously arrogant." There was an audible gasp amongst the five of them, and without warning, the one I had addressed punched me so hard I went tumbling off of the bench. This is NOT my day... I thought.

However, I did not fight back, or hurt anyone, for that matter. Laying in the dirt on my right side, I scrunched up in a fetal position and guarded my face with my clenched fists as I had learned in a self defense class, as they brutally kicked me around. I put my arms out to stop myself from rolling around, and while my face was not covered, the oily-faced teen kicked me in the face and blood spurted everywhere. I could feel myself going into shock, able to tell from the fact that all of a sudden I was thinking random, irrational thoughts like, "I forgot my bag in my locker..." and "I could really go for a bowl of ramen right now." I brought up my hand to feel my nose, and pulled it away to see the red liquid coated my hand, and it ran into my mouth. I could taste the tangy metallic flavor, and it made me gag. My vision split and everything tripled, even the snorts and high fives of the gang. "That's what you get for fucking with us. Have a good day, trash." And they walked away.

Really. What had I done to deserve this?

Haul God's ass down here. We're gonna have WORDS.

The first thing I did was shakily get on my feet, and I stepped onto the stone path that connected buildings of the school, which was also sheltered by a stone roof that was held up by matching pillars every couple of feet. I kept my hand on my nose, trying to stop the blood flow, and couldn't stop thinking about that bowl of ramen. After walking about fifteen feet, I staggered and stumbled, unable to hold up my weight. My energy was completely sapped, and I wondered if it had been such a good idea to leave the hospital in the first place. However, I tried not to doubt that; promptness was my priorty.

The last bell rang, and signalled that school was over. The courtyard and its path were at the back of the school, so no one passed by me, and I assumed that everyone boarded buses and got in their cars at the front of the school. Using my left hand, the one that was not coated in blood, I did my best to stay upright once I got back into the halls. The nurse was only here until one, I knew that much, so she was definitely not present. I wouldn't be able to drive home, not the way I was. I couldn't fathom any other options, and I figured I was hallucinating when I saw a small boy with brown hair and a taller one with blonde hair and purple eyes standing in front of me in triples. I could recognize the first one as Haruhi, but I wasn't able to match the blonde with anyone I knew before the ground rushed up to meet me.

"Have some caaaaaaake! Please?"

Cake? What? I don't want cake...

"Haru-chaaaaaan! Have some caaaake!"

So this person was not talking to me...

My mind felt encased in blackness, and I couldn't open my eyes...

The whiny voice was replaced by a deep, intimidating one.

"Honey. Don't bother Haruhi. She needs to do this."

A crack was audible, and I could hears ear piercing screams echo in what was obviously a large room. My nose felt like it had been cleaved in two and a hand covered my mouth, but left enough space so I could breathe and only when my throat was raw and aching did I realizing that this person had been trying to muffle screams that were mine. I stopped, the angry pains subsiding into strong, sharp jabs. My breathing was forced and heavy, every breath a full effort in and of itself. "W...water..." I panted, and suddenly shrieks pretty much cracked my ear drums.

"WATER! WE MUST ATTAIN WATER! I SHALL VALIANTLY ACCOMPLISH THIS FEAT SINGLE-HANDED!" yelled a presumably male voice.

A voice that I recognized from somewhere, but unclear where, cut into the hysterics.

"Tamaki-senpai. There's a water fountain right outside the door. It's not that hard a feat to accomplish."

"THEN I SHALL COMPLETE THIS NON-DIFFICULT TASK WITH BRAVADO!" he yelled, and I could hear running steps and a door opening, then slamming shut.

At the very least, whatever I was laying on was comfortable...

Less than thirty seconds later, the footsteps returned and I could hear the crackling of a water bottle. Someone, supposedly Haruhi, opened my mouth and poured the cooling liquid down my throat. I gratefully accepted it, and she stopped after a few seconds. I was still parched, however, and as much effort as it took, I wrenched open my eyes and blinked to adjust to the light. Haruhi sat next to me, holding the bottle, and looked excessively concerned. I abandoned all usual manner and snatched the water bottle from her, and sat up with lightning speed, sharp pains in my ribs stopping my breaths momentarily. Regardless, I closed my eyes and downed the whole bottle in one go, dropping it on the floor when I was done. I put my elbows on my knees and covered my eyes with my palms, trying to gulp in fresh air. I didn't hear the several pairs of footsteps collaborate to stop right in front of me. Just breathed. No thoughts.

Breathe.

Breathe...

Absolute silence.

I looked up to see what the silence was for, and seven pairs of eyes were staring back at me.

My throat constricted, and suddenly I was thirsty again. My face grew red, I was sure of it, and grabbed a pillow off of what I was sitting on- an antique sofa. I didn't register that the sofa or the pillow were expensive, I just needed to escape, escape, ESCAPE prying eyes. I rolled off of the sofa and under it, covering my face with the pillow as stars flew in front of my eyes from lack of air. I crushed my eyes shut and forced myself to breathe, lest I pass out again and I wanted to get home sometime. I tried to escape by crawling out from under the other side of the sofa, but they were there too. I scrambled to my feet and made a break for the door, but somebody grabbed my wrist. "You can't go anywhere. Just lay down for a little while, at least until you feel better." Haruhi's voice was laced with good intentions, but I didn't listen to him. His wrist felt like it burned my flesh, and I ripped my hand away. "I... I'm... fine! See?" I tried to smile, but it was more than obvious that I looked like I would vomit any moment, I was sure of it. My voice was unusually squeaky and laced with panic, and I stole a quick glance behind me. The door was RIGHT THERE. I turned about-face and booked it out of the door.

I didn't stop until I made it to the parking lot, jumping on my motorcycle. I revved it up and blazed out of there, flinching every time I passed a car. I didn't live far from Ouran, maybe twenty minutes. But it was far enough. The cold air, mixed with the first drops of an April rainfall, cooled my face and calmed my mind. I was reckless enough to not have put on my helmet, but I didn't care. I had been riding a motorcycle long enough to know I wouldn't do anything dumb enough to get me in a crash, and already God had given me enough bad luck for a lifetime. Losing my parents, fear of cars, people, contact, claustrophobia... he wouldn't dare send a crash my way. I would beat his ass when I made it to Heaven, and his only choice would be to send me to Hell. I would then commence beating Satan's ass into the ground, and he would have no choice but to send me back to Earth...

Apparently, I'm still wonky from shock.

They were right. I shouldn't be driving.

And from what I saw when I got home, I shouldn't have left the school at all.

My house was burnt to the ground.

This is the very first fanfiction I actually plan to finish; I am an exceedingly large fan of Ouran High School Host Club and I take pride in my moderately advanced vocabulary. I dare say that I leave it up to you readers to find typing errors so that I may fix them; all aside, enjoy my story as it builds into something I hope we shall both like. ^_^