Chapter One
Unbound

The air in here is suffocating. A distant repetitive beep emits from an unknown source down the ever-intimidating hall. Our surroundings streamlined with white paint and harsh fluorescent lighting. It all adds to the cold isolation that everyone must be feeling.

And here I sit in the middle of it all.

To my left, a prince waits alongside me, occasionally brushing strands of golden hair from his eyes. Every time a nurse passes he straightens his posture, trying his best to look like the dashing hero of this story. Except for this time, it's not working.

On my right, a gentle giant rests a protective hand over the back of my chair. His eyes being the only sign that gives away the anxiety he's feeling.

I've lost track of the other two, who I can guess have only distanced them as not to appear as weak as the rest of us.

I've managed to keep a calm demeanor so far. But still, I can feel the ground shaking beneath my feet.

I slump further into my reverie. Oh Mom, why does this keep happening to me?

The prince brushes another strand of hair and, as if reading my mind, attempts to comfort me "Haruhi, don't be scared. I've already told you nothing bad will happen to my precious daughter as long as you're with me." He smiles, it's as unconvincing as his words.

'A crack in his façade' I think to myself while attempting to force some semblance of emotion to return his gesture. The tremors beneath me rise in ferocity.

But what if he's right? Maybe we all can go back to the way we were before that call. Oh God, was it only just this morning when everything seemed so complete? I shudder at the thought; it feels as though a lifetime has passed since someone told me the news that brought us all here.

Unfortunately, I'm no stranger to tragedy; my mother, a respected lawyer and a prominent member of her community, was killed just ten years ago. So when I received the call earlier that morning, I knew all too well the events that would follow. My messenger was short with me; fumbling through details and all too quick to reveal that yet again I would be faced with another challenge.

When my mother died, I told myself that if I could make it through this everything else would be easy; that this was the one reckoning point for me to overcome and nothing else that was possible could even dare compete.

I took the role of caretaker for my father, who lay bed-ridden for weeks with grief. I taught myself to cook and clean, acting as the buffer Dad needed to distance himself from the world.

Not a night went by where his cries didn't fill my room, yet it was the silence that always got to me, it meant that I was alone, a slave to my dark thoughts. Thunderstorms were always the hard part. But soon I learned how to get through them on my own, and it was with a white-knuckle grip that I learned to be strong.

I took solace in the fact that my mother's memory, if nothing else, was what drove me to be the person I am today, self-reliant and unwavering. Although, after today, it seems that not even that can be salvaged.

I take my head into my hands, Forgive me, Mom.

"Miss Fujioka?" a voice calls out from the white abyss.

I snap my gaze to the sound's source, "Yes?" I recognize her immediately. It's her eyes that give her away, containing irises the same vibrant hue as my looming tragedy. Except hers look ashen, sunken in and dark from the terror she's faced.

Her voice cracks as she speaks, "Thank you so much for coming on such short notice, I realize how difficult it must be for a commoner to reach Tokyo Metropolitan Hospital." She pauses for a beat, and I realize how accustomed I've become to my newly branded title. Yes, I am a stranger to her lavish lifestyle, branded by my ill-fitting clothes and lack of poise. The irony that we're both here for the same reason has certainly not gone unnoticed by her either.

"I'm so sorry to bother you, but I was wondering if..." Her words are choked back by a sob. How could I possibly help her?

"It's just that, well the twins always spoke so fondly of you. They even said that you could-" Mrs. Hitachiin pauses, giving her words as much room as possible.

My eyes meet hers as I finish the words to her plea, "That I could tell them apart."

The tremors crack the tiles beneath my feet.

Her response is barely audible, "Y-yes."

My eyes crash to tunnel vision. All I can see is her face; she's terrified, awoken to a horror of which I was about to face headfirst. The prince tries to comfort me; the giant stays silent. I swallow hard, "Why do you need me to tell them apart?"

Only I know the answer before she opens her mouth.

"Because I need to know which of my boys survived. I need to know if there is...was a person in this world who could grant them the one thing our money couldn't buy."

I watch as Mrs. Hitachiin disappears inside of herself, falling to the floor in merciless guilt. Tamaki rushes to her side, Mori is all too quick to follow.

And so, it is a mother's lament that brings the tremors to their crescendo. They collapse the ground beneath me, allowing this ugly world to swallow me whole.