A/N: Salutations and welcome to my story. I just want to make a few things clear before you read this story. I am going to write about two arcs of my own creation before Haruhi comes into the picture. This is kind of the story before the story. After watching Ouran High School Host Club I became fascinated with the twins and they instantly became my favorite characters. Their story and background interest me so much that I couldn't keep my muse to myself any longer. This first arc is the involvement of my own character (an OC, obviously) becoming intertwined with the twins. The second arc more or less involves the actual Host Club. While this plot if far from original, I hope you enjoy my spin. And please, feel free to ask any questions or criticize my work. That is what reviewing if for after all ;)

-blue

All the Right Moves

Chapter 1: The Greatest Chase

I never realized how much I hated hospitals until I was actually in one. I mean, I think I felt worse IN the hospital than I would in a sewer system. Everything about the place made me uncomfortable. The doctors with their fake smiles that accompanied bearings of bad news; the nurses and their needles; and even that annoying buzzing sound that came from the florescent lights. But, I think the worst of it all was the smell: sick people mixed with chemicals and vitamins. It just made me want to vomit everything I had for lunch. Or maybe that was just the anesthetic…

Maxine Belle Chase was slowly slipping back into consciousness. And as she did, Maxine became more aware of how she felt as if she had been hit by a bus.

Her body felt like lead and ached everywhere. There was an unexplainable dulled pain along her back, the soles of her feet and hands, and across her face. Not to mention her brain pounded like a jackhammer against her skull every time blood pumped through the veins in her temples. A groan escaped her lips as she raised her hand to apply some kind of pressure to relieve the pain, only to find something was tugging on it.

Confused, she opened her eyes, only to quickly close them again due to the bright light that burned her retinas. Maxine had to blink several times before her eyes became adjusted to the lighting of the small room.

Taking a quick glance around, Maxine found that she dwelled in a hospital room. The blinding white walls, beeping monitors, scratchy sheets, and an I.V. drip (which explained why her hand was constrained) made it all too clear where she was.

It didn't explain, however, how or why she was there.

Maxine groped around until she grabbed the side railing of her bed and hoisted her body into a more comfortable sitting position. Instantly she regretted it, as the movement had made her body realize how nauseated it felt.

She quickly leaned over the side of the bed and puked up the contents of her stomach onto the white tiled floor. After a few last dry heaves, Maxine leaned back against the upright mattress, panting, and with the taste of bile now in her mouth.

"That's not good enough!" The sound of a fist hitting something solid made Maxine start. It came from outside her door, and she was able to make out two silhouettes through the frosted glass window. The voice was recognizable, but Maxine wasn't sure from where, exactly, she had heard it before. She blamed the lack of recollection on the anesthetic. She's heard that it could really screw with a person's body, although she didn't realize it would make her this…incoherent.

"N-now, Mr. P-Prince-I mean Chase, please understand that we did everything we could. B-but most of the injuries she has acquired are too s-sever to fully heal." The other dark figure raised his hands, open-palmed, as if the gesture would help the other calm down.

It didn't seem to work.

"So you're saying that she's going to carry those scars for the rest of her life?" The man practically growled there was so much anger laced within his voice. Maxine thought how glad she was not to be in the other guy's shoes. But then again, her position didn't seem to be all that great right now either.

The man, a doctor if Maxine had to guess, stuttered in his response so much that she couldn't make out everything he said. But the answer was obvious.

"Thank you, doctor." A female voice cut in before the angry man could say anymore. Her silhouette moved from beside him and into Maxine's view. The woman stood only an inch shorter than the man, but her figure was much slighter than his. "We're going to see her now. We will call if we need anything."

Her tone made no room for argument, but Maxine did not doubt the doctor was more than happy to leave. The doorknob clicked and the two figures walked into Maxine's room.

They did not look anything like what Maxine had pictured in her head. She figured the bulky man to have the appearance of a stereotypical muscle head. Dumb looks and all. However, his features were soft: smooth tanned skin, silky dark hair mused in a messy fashion, and big green eyes that sparkled with brilliance. Only his body was solid. Large muscles bulged in his arms as he crossed them over his broad, t-shirt covered chest, and a sleeve of tattoo's adored the left limb. His body screamed intimidation, but his smile and soft eyes spoke a different language. He looked eighteen, but the roundness of his face suggested he couldn't be much older than fifteen.

The woman had a striking resemblance to the young man. Her features carried the same dark hair color, tanned soft skin, and large green eyes. But that's where the similarities stopped. She wore glasses, blacked rimmed, and shaped in that of slanted, round rectangles. They suited her, making her appearance seem more professional instead of childish. Her figure was tall and lean; she had to at least be 5'10" and a size two. While she looked professional, she did not appear to be as strict as Maxine imagined. The voice the woman had used outside the room had a distinct air of command to it; however, in this room that impression had completely disappeared. Her features were just as soft as the man's.

The two apparently did not expect Maxine to be awake, as their eyes had given their surprise away with a slight widening. The woman gasped and put a hand to her mouth, as if to shove the sound back in. Her eyes watered behind her glasses.

"Oh, Maxi." The man said, as if heartbroken.

Maxine looked at the two blankly. She should know them. The two were so familiar to her. But their names just kept escaping her hazy mind.

Damn drugs.

The man pushed a button on the side of the wall and called for a janitor in the speaker, while the woman moved to the other side of Maxine's bed and grabbed her un-tube-injected hand and squeezed it.

The dulled pain seared in Maxine's palm and she drew back her hand with a hiss. Looking down at it she saw that her hand was wrapped in gauze.

"Oh! I'm so sorry, Max!" The woman quickly apologized. But Maxine heeded her no mind as she slowly began to unwrap the white fabric from her hand.

"You shouldn't do that, Maxi. It's not pretty." The man said. A knock at the door alerted the three to the janitor coming in, but none paid him any mind as he quickly cleaned the vomit and left.

Maxine ignored the man's warning and continued to unwrap until the last piece fell from her hand. He was right. It wasn't pretty. The palm of Maxine's hand was covered with lacerations that had been bandaged or stitched up, the largest running diagonally across the entire length of her hand. A few of the smaller ones branched up along her fingers. She tried bending a few, and winched. These cuts were still pretty fresh; the skin was still tight and raw.

Sliding her eyes to her other hand, Maxine gingerly removed the bandages from it as well, but made sure not to remove the tubes that embedded her skin. Her left hand was in the same condition as her right, but there were no serious cuts that required stitches.

Confusion ran through her mind, and she looked at the two beside her. They just watched her with sad and guarded eyes.

"What…" Maxine trailed off as a thought suddenly struck her. Looking down, she grabbed the sheets (using as little palm surface as possible) and threw them back to reveal her long legs.

"Max, what are you doing?"

Ignoring the man's question, Maxine swung her legs over the side of the bed. The movement took more effort than she thought. Looking down, she saw that her feet were covered in gauze as well, and as if to confirm her suspicion, Maxine stepped off her bed. As soon as her feet hit the ground she yelped and leapt right back onto her bed to take the pressure off her cut up feet.

"Max don't do that! Oh no, you opened up your stitches." The woman said when red began to seep through the gauze on her right foot.

Tears stung Maxine's eyes as she bit her lip, trying to keep them from falling. That proved difficult, as the tension made the ache more intense across her face. Automatically she reached up to touch the area between her eyes, but the man caught her wrist.

Maxine snapped her eyes open to see his calm green ones right in front of her. After a second, he placed a hand mirror in her hand with a heartbroken smile. "You're only making it worse, Maxi. Just try not to freak out after you see these, okay?"

He waited for her to give a small nod before moving away. Maxine looked at him, before looking at the woman, who was silently crying now, and then she looked in the mirror.

Not three seconds later, the mirror crashed to the floor in pieces, as it had slipped from her fingers and her face froze in horror.

The doctor said I was lucky. Just a few more centimeters and I would have lost my sight. The cut that marred my face ran from my left cheek bone, across the bridge of my nose, and ended just above my right eyebrow. An almost perfect diagonal cut.

I didn't feel lucky though, I felt more like a butcher's favorite blade block. In addition to my face, hands, and feet, my back had the most cuts. Some small, and would heal in two weeks, but most were deep and I would carry them for the rest of my life. How did I get these? Well…

"Miss Maxine Chase would you please approach the bench?"

The ten year old girl was frozen in her seat with her head ducked down.

"Max?"

She let out a small whimper as she looked up at the man sitting next to her: Joseph Chase. Joey. Brother.

His kind eyes watched her, seeing the fear she desperately was trying to hide. She wanted to be strong like him, like Tori too. They've already sacrificed so much to help her. The least she could do was this.

With one last squeeze from his hand, Maxine stood and walked to the bench and the bailiff. He held the Bible out to her and she placed her hand on it and raised the other.

"Do you solemnly swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you, God?" He asked.

"I do." Maxine replied. He nodded his head and she sat down.

The defense's lawyer stepped towards Maxine. He was intimidating to say the least. Mr. Baldwin, if Maxine heard correctly. And he was the best lawyer money could buy, all the way down to his polished leather Dockers.

"Ms. Chase, is it?"

Maxine nodded her head.

"Your name was Ms. Princeton not two days ago. Can you tell me why that is?"

Maxine couldn't understand what this man was getting at, but she promised to tell the truth, so she did.

"My brother and sister changed it, along with theirs. It's our mother's maiden name."

Mr. Baldwin smiled in a way Maxine didn't like, nor understood. It was as if he was trying to look friendly, but failing miserable at it. "And why did they do that?"

"She divorced our father, and Joey and Tori say they wants nothing to do with him."

"And why is that?"

"…I don't know."

Mr. Baldwin's smile grew so wide it was like looking at the Cheshire Cat in Alice in Wonderland. "And tell me, Ms. Chase, do you recognize that man sitting over there?"

Mr. Baldwin pointed toward the desk sitting across the aisle from Maxine's siblings. He pointed at a man in a pristine black suit, and his dark hair combed to the side. He looked very distinguished, as if he was a born and raised a blue blood. Maxine had never seen a more intimidating man in her entire life.

"No."

Amnesia: the loss of one's memory due to unusual brain injury, shock, fatigue, repression, or illness. I had it, but I had no idea as to what caused it. And because of it, I couldn't recognize anyone. I couldn't even recognize my own father or my siblings that had cared for me since I woke up in the hospital. Nor could I remember how I had gotten the scars on my body.

Tori and Joey believe our father is to blame for everything. You see, something happened the night before I woke in the hospital, and they believe he was the catalyst. They believe he's the reason I have scars and amnesia. They believe he's the reason our mother's signature was on divorce papers and is now in a coma.

But there is a difference between believing and knowing. And because mother is in a coma and I have amnesia they have no way of proving it was him, and so he got off scotch-free.

We have another sister, Jackie, who was home that night, but she never testified against our father. In fact, she said the entire incident had to have been an accident. Our father would have never laid hands our mother or me. She said she didn't see anything because she was in her room that night and never heard a thing until the police sirens were outside the house, but Tori had her doubts. Tori said that Jackie always wanted to please our father and would do anything to stay in his good graces. I had no clue why, but then, how could I when I couldn't even remember my own sister?

The judge decided to freeze the case until further evidence could be brought forward to either prove or disprove our father's innocence. Meaning, until my amnesia goes away or my mother wakes up, my father was a free man.

Enraged, Tori decided to move out from under our father's roof and take me with her. I'm not sure how she was able to gain custody of me, but she was at the top of her class in Harvard Law School, so I figured it had to do something with that. It helped that our father didn't seem to care, and didn't put up a fight about us leaving. It was when Joey decided to go with us that he threw a tantrum.

"Joey, do you really want to do this?" Tori looked at her younger brother as if she couldn't believe he was standing in front of her with his bags packed.

The boy nodded and looked down at his younger sister, Maxine, who was holding onto her sister's jean pocket with one hand, and her small suitcase with the other. She stared at her brother, also wondering why he would want to do this.

He bent down and kissed Maxine on her forehead, a notion that Maxine had learned—re-learned— to mean he cared for her.

"The bastard threatened to disown me if I left with you guys. I don't care. I could never forgive him for what he did to mom and Max."

"I'm surprised he threatened you. You're his only son. You should know how much that means to him. He's already legally disowned Max and me. He's frozen all my accounts, and stopped paying for my school."

Maxine looked down at her feet with tears rolling down her cheeks and guilt building in her belly. She couldn't understand why these two would leave their life of luxury and comfort, just for her. She barely even knew them, or at least she doesn't remember them to know them. This was all so confusing. Did they really care that much about her? Why didn't her other older sister, Jackie, care?

"Come on, Maxi, please don't cry."

Maxine looked up at her brother. He was smiling at her so genuinely that she cried even harder. Tori bent down and hugged her, and Joey hugged them both with his massive arms. "We love you, Maxi," Joey said, "and if that bastard wants nothing to do with you, I want nothing to do with him or that company."

"Watch your language, she's ten years old." Tori scowled her brother. It only caused him to laugh. Which in turn cause Maxine to laugh, but it sounded like hick-ups with sobs still in her throat.

"Where are we going?" Maxine asked.

"We're going to go live with our mother's parents that live in Japan for a while. Do you remember Obaa-san and Ojii-san?" Tori asked.

Maxine shook her head with shame. She couldn't even remember Tori or Joey before the accident, how could she remember her grandparents that lived all the way in Japan?

Tori only smiled. "That's okay. Do you remember Japanese?"

Maxine instantly recognized what her sister asked, even though it wasn't in English. It only made her feel guiltier. She remembered a foreign language like she grew up speaking it, but she couldn't remember the people that cared for her.

Maxine nodded her head and replied in perfect Japanese, "Yes, I remember it very well."

Maxine looked up to see hurt on her sisters face, but Tori quickly turned her frown into a smile and said, "Good, that will make it much easier for you when we get there. I'm afraid Obaa-san's English isn't any better since the last time we saw her."

"You'd think she would learn since her husband is American. I mean, I guess they don't have to speak the same language to— oh!" Joey said before he was smacked on the head by Tori. Maxine laughed at the irritated look the two gave each other.

We moved to Japan for two reasons. The first reason was to be closer to our comatose mother. Since our parents divorced before the accident, our father felt no obligation to pay for the hospital bills. As such, our grandparents took over the care of their daughter, but that meant moving her to a hospital closer to their home.

The second being our grandparents hated our father, even before the accident. So when they heard what happened they welcomed us with open arms, happy to get their beloved grandchildren away from their son-in-law ("her mistake", as they liked to call him). We noticed a complication, however, a few months into living with them.

Our grandparents, while loving and caring, did not have much money, unlike our father who owned a major corporation in the entertainment industry. Between paying for our mother's hospital bills and their own home and finances, they barely had enough to feed us. Luckily, Tori, being the most intelligent out of us, anticipated this. Once she and Joey found part time jobs and saved up enough money, we moved into a small apartment a little over a year later.

They refused to let me get a job to help pay for the bills. The only work for an eleven year old would be in a sweat shop, they would say, and they would hear no arguments. So I did what I could around the apartment. I did all the cooking and cleaning so my siblings wouldn't have to worry about it when they got home, exhausted from their jobs.

I noticed after a while that the money they earned still wasn't enough. They couldn't get full-time jobs because they both attended school. Joey got into Ouran Public High School and Tori was able to earn enough scholarship money to go back to Law School. It wasn't until midway through the semester I found out how they were able to pay for everything.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

A twelve year old Maxine looked up from her school book at the clock on the wall.

"Who on earth could that be at this hour?" She wondered out loud, before climbing off her mattress on the floor (they couldn't afford bed frames), and she threw her body weight against her bedroom door as she turned the handle (it was the only way to open it).

In the hallway, Maxine noticed the light was on in Tori's room. Not realizing her sister was home, she looked into Tori's room since the door was already open. What Maxine saw made her frown.

Tori was sitting at her desk they had found at a garage sale. She was slumped over one of her giant text books, sleeping on her arms with her glasses still on. She must had started studying as soon as she got home from work, Maxine figured, since she still had her uniform on and her waitress apron still around her hips.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

"I'm coming, hold your horses." Maxine mumbled as she shut Tori's door as quietly as she could. The short walk from the bedroom hallway to the front door in the living room took less than 15 steps. Before Maxine opened the door she remembered her sibling's warning about "stranger danger."

Since she was too short to look through the peep-hole, Maxine made sure the lock was secure before calling out, "who is it?"

"It's me, Maxi. Please open the door. I forgot my key."

Recognizing her brother's deep voice, Maxine rushed to unlock and open the door. When she did, he all but fell into the apartment, only catching himself on the kitchenette counter, which was right next to the door.

"Joey! What's wrong?" Maxine rushed to help him up. While he was well over twice her size, Maxine was able to help support him over to one of their shabby looking couches that their grandparents had given them when they got new furniture.

"I was hoping you weren't awake, Maxi." Joey muttered as he slowly lifted his head to look at her.

"Why would y—" Maxine paused mid-sentence when she saw her brother's face. His right eye was swollen shut and his lip was busted open. Upon seeing his face, Maxine took notice that his shirt was torn and what skin was exposed was blotched with bruises and blood. He looked like an overused punching bag, and now she knew why he didn't want her awake. Maxine was frozen at the sight of her brother's beaten body, and she started shaking violently.

"Shit, I didn't want—Tori!" Joey shouted for his older sister.

A commotion sounded from Tori's room before she rushed into the living room with her glasses and hair still disheveled. It took her all of three seconds to understand what was going on.

"Oh no," Tori moved to grab the frozen Maxine's shoulders and steer her into the hallway, away from their brother. "Please go to bed, we'll explain later. I'm sorry you had to find out like this."

It turns out Joey would enter into underground fights for extra money to pay for what his job couldn't. After that I begged them to let me get a job, but they still refused. Joey argued he liked fighting, and wanted to do it. He told me that when we still lived in the U.S. he was the best MMA fighter in the city and enjoyed it, and since he made the fights so entertaining he got a lot of money even if he lost. I thought he was insane.

The next day, Tori and Joey introduced me to an activity that they said I was the best at before the accident. I had no clue what they were talking about until they took me to my school's gymnasium.

At first I thought they were even more insane when they said I was a gymnast, and the best at that.

"You guys are insane. There is no way I am doing this," Maxine said and she watched a girl do a round off, two whips, a flip, and then a tuck on the floor. It then struck Maxine as odd that she knew those terms.

"Just try it, Maxi. A few years ago, you were the best of the best. I can't believe we didn't push you to try this again sooner," Joey replied.

"A few years ago, I had memory of what I was doing," Maxine shot back.

"Just go and try it!" Tori said, using that voice that scared Maxine into doing anything her sister wanted.

"It's a no wonder she wants to be a lawyer." Maxine thought to herself as she sighed and walked over to the balance beam. She eyed it then looked back at her siblings who gave her encouraging smiles. Sighing one last time, Maxine hoisted herself onto the beam.

It was like riding a bicycle. Once I got on that beam it was like I remembered everything I had learned in my years before the accident. While I couldn't remember my coach or team, I remembered every move and how to execute it to the T.

Turns out, Tori and Joey weren't the only ones watching me perform on the beam. The Ouran Public Middle School's coach saw and instantly jumped at the chance to encourage me to try-out for the team when I graduated from Ouran Public Primary School next year.

Tori and Joey were thrilled, but I wasn't. At school, I was a social-pariah in a way. Not many kids wanted to associate with the American-transfer student with a giant scar across her face. Some kids were even terrified to come near me. And when most don't want to be friends with me — everyone didn't. So I didn't have any friends, and I didn't want to be stuck at school longer than I had to. But my siblings were persistent.

So when the first day of middle school came around, I tried-out for the gymnastics team. Just to make them happy.

I made the team with flying colors, which didn't surprise me. But what did surprise me was the friends I made. It was as if a barrier had come down, and the girls on the team treated me like a normal person. They weren't scared of the scar on my face or the ones on the rest of my body. It was as if gymnastics made me a real person, and because of it I actually enjoyed going to school. I actually felt like a normal kid, and now I understand why Joey and Tori said I loved gymnastics so much before the accident. I felt alive.

I felt like I could do anything when I performed my routines, and it showed. Over the next year I became the best of the best. No other school's gymnast could touch me. I was the champion of the public school's gymnastics ring. But it seemed someone thought I should be taken to the next level…

"Max, there's someone I'd like you to meet."