It started at age 12, that's when I met my best friend. I had just started middle school at Ouran Academy, and I thought life would be perfect. I had started walking up the stairs towards the doors, when a girl I didn't even know bumped into me. She sneered, and then walked off, she had red hair, and thought she was above everyone.

I had bent down to pick up my books off the ground, they had fallen when I was bumped into, when another hand reached out and grabbed a book next to the one I was putting into my bag. "Here." Came a slightly familiar, and definitely male voice. I couldn't pin where it was familiar from though. I stood up, took my book, and looked at the boy in front of me.

He was slightly taller than me, he had eyes that reminded me of dark chocolate, obsidian hair, and he wore glasses. He looked like, but no that couldn't be right. He started walking away, and I realized I had stared. He was gone before I could call after him, and I realized I had homeroom. I was a middle school freshman, so I got class 1-A.

And as I had rushed to my classroom, I had hoped that, maybe, possibly, this boy would be in the same class as I was. I walked in and sat down in an empty seat, and I had stared at the window, wondering why I hadn't chosen the window seat, but knowing that it was too late to claim it now. A boy had sat down next to me, he had the brightest purple eyes, and adorable blonde hair.

I didn't like him, he seemed to obnoxious for me. And I prayed to god he wouldn't talk to me. He had decided to talk to me. "I'm Tamaki, who are you?" He had asked, his voice had a slight french accent, and I knew he wasn't from Japan. "Yuhima Sakurako, you can call me Sakura." I had replied to him. His face had lit up, joy etching his features.

He had started rambling on, and on, and on. It got so annoying I tuned him and the class out. "Would you mind shutting up? I'm getting a migraine." Came the voice of the boy I had met earlier. I hadn't noticed him sit down next to me, nor did I notice him smirk when he first saw me in his class. The teacher walked in seconds later, started asking attendance, after he had introduced himself though.

"Suoh Tamaki?"

"Present!"

"Yuhima Sakurako?"

"Present." I had said mine so mundane, everyone laughed a bit. Some girls in the class had started whispering, but I didn't care all that much.

The teacher rattled on, name after name, until finally he was almost done his list.

"Ootori Kyoya?"

"Present!" His name was finally no longer a mystery, and I had felt glad he was in my class. Lunch break had come around very fast that day, and soon everyone was heading to the cafeteria. Mother had made my lunch, so I was staying in the classroom to eat. I noticed the Ootori boy leaving, he had left last, though I had no clue why.

I had argued with myself during class, but then had I made a decision. "Ootori-kun!" I remember shouting. He had turned around, his glasses glinting at the light from the windows. He hadn't answered, but I could tell he was listening. "Thank you for helping me earlier..." I had trailed off out of embarrassment, and he was glaring at me.

I was young and didn't like the feeling of hatred, and I felt like I had wasted his time, and so I abandoned sitting in the classroom and decided to leave, I had tried rushing past the youngest Ootori but he had grabbed my arm. "I'm sorry..." I had muttered, my head hanging low, and then had rushed away to the rose garden.

I had sat on a bench, tears falling onto my hands. It seemed like an hour had passed, and I felt lucky that lunch lasted 2. A hand had appeared in my vision, offering to help me off the bench. I took the hand, knowing full well who it belonged to. "Why were you sorry?" The Ootori had asked. "Because I wasted your time." I had replied, my voice had cracked. But then the Ootori had comforted me, and we talked.

Overtime we had actually become friends, and a year had passed. That was when everything went sour. I was walking out of the school, the first week of my second year of middle school had already passed. I got into my limo, my parents were waiting, they were going to drive with me, as they had just got back from a trip to Brazil.

A loud bang had filled my ears, the smell of smoke filled my nose, I couldn't see. I heard screams of all sorts, and I knew one thing. We had crashed, and I didn't know if I was going to make it. I had blacked out, and then I had woken up a week later. My parents had died, and they had left their company and money, to me.

But only when I turned 18. I had cuts, gashes, bruises, and some of my skin was burnt. But I didn't cry, it was at that moment I had realized, I wasn't going to ever see my best friend again, I wasn't going to laugh with him about how stupid Tamaki could be. And when I went back to middle school, I made sure to be likable, and to have no one know of my past.

I finished middle school, and now I'm going into high school, with my friend Haruhi. It's my second year though. And I'm going back to Ouran, how will I fare?