Chapter 1
Haruhi zigzagged through the market with her spoils clutched to her chest. She sped around a corner, threw the food into a waiting basket, and began to scale the ladder to the top of the building before the twins yanked it up out-of-sight. They dug through the basket and passed water to Haruhi.
"It's hot today; don't strain yourself," Kaoru said.
She removed her hat to allow her hair to fall as she accepted the container of water. Haruhi lied back after a long drink to cool down. She stared up at the little white clouds that seemed to dissipate just by looking at them.
Hikaru passed her a pear. "What're you thinking about this time?"
Closing her eyes, she replied, "Nothing."
"It's not nothing," he pressed, "I know that face."
"You'll be mad," she said in a sing-song tone.
Kaoru asked, "Are you thinking about the parade?"
Her silence confirmed their suspicions and Hikaru sighed. "It's been seven years! I doubt he even remembers--"
"If he even cares," Kaoru added.
"He's stuck up and doesn't care about anybody but himself: he's a prince!" Hikaru finished. He groaned, aggravated, "Why do you think about it so much?"
She shrugged. "He just seemed… different, is all."
"Maybe because he's, I dunno, royalty?" Hikaru commented sarcastically.
"That doesn't make a difference," she replied sourly. "Besides, I don't think about it that much: just from time to time."
"It feels like you're thinking about it every time we turn around," Hikaru sighed.
She heaved out a deep breath. "I'm sorry, guys. You must get tired of hearing it."
They ate in silence and Haruhi fell deep into thought. After her pear was finished, she found she was no longer hungry. Checking for any signs of the shop owner she had taken the fruit from first, Haruhi lowered the ladder and climbed down with the rest of her share of the goods in tow, ignoring any and all questions from her friends. She tucked her hair up before replacing the tattered, green hat on her head before she could reach the majority of the population.
Thanks to her disguise and appearance, the people she passed assumed she was a boy and therefore didn't bother her. Women weren't treated with much respect unless they had a very high social status like the queen. Her father had even encouraged it when she went out in public. The twins were the first to tell her to do it, especially when going out alone.
She passed by a shaded alley and saw a small girl with an older boy pulling her hair. "Give them back!" he spat.
"I don't have them! I swear I don't!" the girl cried in return.
He yanked on her hair roughly. "Give them to me!"
The girl yelped in pain again and Haruhi strode into the alley, barking, "Hey!" She gripped the boy's wrist and the gripped hair, tearing them apart. "That's enough!"
Once the now-struggling boy's hand released the girl's hair, Haruhi asked, "Now what is this about?"
"She stole my sister's shoes!" he accused.
Haruhi looked down at the girl's bare feet. "Does it look like she has your sister's shoes?"
He looked down at the girl's feet and realized they were nude. "Well, no…"
"Then go home and help your sister find her shoes instead of accusing people of stealing them," Haruhi instructed. She waited until the boy was gone before turning to the girl and holding out her hand.
"All right," Haruhi said, "Hand them over."
Tears stained her face. "What?" she sniffled.
She flexed her fingers in unison. "Come on," Haruhi continued, "Where are they?"
"I--"
"I'm not going to turn you in. Now where are the shoes?"
The girl stared at Haruhi a moment before reaching into an abandoned weaved basket a few feet away. The shoes she withdrew from the basket were toddler-sized, far too small for the girl holding them. Haruhi looked them over and sighed.
"Those are far too small for you," she notified, "So I'll tell you what: take those back in the next few days unless you want him to come back."
Haruhi pulled out a few tangerines from her bag of stolen food. "You can have these, but only if you take those shoes back. I'll know if you don't, and I'll come back," she bargained.
The girl stared hypnotically at the food and nodded vigorously.
Feeling the agreement was sincere, she relinquished the tangerines before Haruhi turned to go back out to the main street, calling back, "Stay out of trouble." Out on the main road she walked aimlessly, deep in thought. She began thinking about the prince and how he must've changed in the years that passed. She wondered how tall he was or if the king and queen had chosen a bride for him yet. She wondered what kingdom she was from and if the prince had met her.
'How horrible would it be to have an arranged marriage? Though, I suppose he was raised not to question it…'
Her thoughts began to drift to the queen and the prince's mother. About four years ago, the prince's mother fell gravely ill and passed away. Immediately after, the king had to wed another, who now reigned as queen at the present for political purposes. Haruhi wondered how each of them felt about the arrangement. She thought about how she would have felt had her father had to do something similar after her mother's death.
She looked up to find herself at the large wall of the castle garden with a tall tree growing beside it. The pleasant smells from the flowers inside the garden drifted to her nose faintly, and she grew curious to which flowers were inside. Haruhi examined the twisted, warped tree and concluded it was climbable. After making sure her hat was firmly on her head, she gripped at the bark and inched her way up like a cautious feline.
Out on a shaded branch, she held her breath when she realized the prince was present in the garden. If she was caught, she could suffer serious punishment. He didn't' appear to see her, so she quietly let out the air from her lungs. The garden smelled heavenly. She stretched forward slowly to see more of the garden when she accidentally broke a protruding twig on the thick branch.
The prince's head snapped up. He saw her immediately. "You there," he called as he sat on a stone bench in the garden, "What are you doing here?"
Startled, Haruhi tumbled off the branch, catching her hands on the branch long enough to allow her to land on her feet, however un-graceful. "Your highness!" she greeted, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt! I smelled the flowers and I was curious--"
He held up his hand to silence her. "Come here," he commanded.
Haruhi advanced cautiously, hoping her hat hadn't been disturbed in the fall. The prince seemed very laid-back and casual where he sat, delicately admiring a magnolia flower from a nearby bush. "Yes, sir?" she asked when she was near the bench.
"Call me Tamaki, instead," he said, "I don't like using titles when I'm relaxing in my garden."
She nodded in response.
He looked up at her, eyes furrowed in examination. "Why are you wearing such a warm hat in this hot weather?" he asked.
"It's the only one I have," she answered.
"Then why wear it? The heat could kill you."
"I'm used to it."
"Sit," Tamaki ordered as he indicated to the bench, "I don't feel like standing."
She sat obediently at the other end of the bench, keeping her eyes on everything but the prince. "You have many flowers here: I've never seen so many."
"Do you like them?"
"They're beautiful," she commented.
He followed her eyes to admire the vast Eden. "My mother planned it all," he replied, "Though, she never got to see the finished product." Tamaki turned his eyes back to Haruhi. "Why do you look so familiar to me, boy?"
Haruhi stomped down her excitement to remain calm. "I've been to a few parades; maybe you saw me there."
He shook his head. "I don't attend many parades, myself." His gaze stuck to her hat. "Remove your hat."
"No," she replied automatically.
"Take off your hat," he commanded again.
She stood. "I refuse!"
He stood and barked, "As the prince, you will do as I say!"
Haruhi's mouth closed and she glared. Whether she wanted to or not, the hat would be removed. She bowed slightly at the waist. "I'm sor--"
Sighing in exasperation, Tamaki cut her short and said more calmly, "Don't apologize. Forgive me for my outburst." He sat on the bench again. "Please sit. It's been a long time since I talked to someone as… persistent… as I."
Haruhi knew he meant to say "stubborn" but was trying to be polite. She sat. "You don't have many friends; do you, your highness?"
"Tamaki," he corrected, "And no, I don't. I have advisors and trainers."
She nodded. "I figured as much."
He folded his left arm across his stomach, propping his right elbow against it to rest his fingers below his nose thoughtfully. "You remind me of someone," he restated from earlier in a mumble.
Haruhi looked around the garden and spotted a fountain with a rose bush in full bloom beside it. She pointed towards it. "May I take a look?"
Tamaki nodded absently, and she stood. She sat at the edge of the extravagant fountain and marveled the rose bush. She had never seen such flawless-appearing flowers. None were wilted or damaged, all picture-perfect and bright red. The sight was mesmerizing.
The prince thought hard. Where had he seen this person before? His eyes glued to the hat. That hat… he concluded it shouldn't be there. He felt like it was mocking him mercilessly by concealing what it knew and he didn't. He battled inwardly with possible solutions to the predicament, eventually settling on the most effective, less honorable one.
Tamaki stood and crossed the garden. Haruhi's back was to him, making his mission that much easier. He marched straight up to her and gripped her hat from the front brim and lifted it back swiftly. Haruhi gasped as her hand flew up to attempt to catch her hat—or hide her hair—and she leapt to her feet as she spun around.
Haruhi couldn't catch her hair in time, and it fell around her shoulders. Her hand rested at the back of her neck and she stared open-mouthed at the prince.
His eyes widened and his mouth gaped for several reasons. "Who are you?"
"Haruhi Fujioka," she replied quietly.
"Haru…?" The hand holding the hat pointed at her and his eyebrows drew together. "Hey… You're that girl!"
Her hand slowly lowered to her side. He remembered? "Sir?"
He advanced a step. "You're the girl from the parade!"
Waves of denials flooded Haruhi's brain, but the only response she could form was a winded sigh. "Yes."
She prepared for the worst: a slap, a kick, a pull of the hair, arrest, public ridicule, torture, execution. Instead, she shockingly found him laughing to himself and hanging his head while massaging his eyes with his thumb and middle finger of his free hand.
"Maybe I'm not as crazy as I thought," he chuckled quietly.
"What makes you think you're crazy, Tamaki?"
He realized he'd been heard at the sound of the question and looked up with a smile. "Oh, nothing, nothing," he replied.
She looked at him closely, reading his face. Haruhi realized his skin was paler than she remembered, lacking a healthy glow. "If I may ask, how did your mother Her Majesty die?"
Tamaki appeared to know what she was thinking and looked away, smile fading. "She was sick for about four years… then she grew delusional more and more… and she passed away in her sleep."
"How long have you been sick?"
"Since a few months after she died," he answered, "Maybe longer, but my doctors contributed it to grief."
Haruhi quickly did the math and concluded that to be nearly four years he'd been ill. "Do you know what's causing it?"
He shook his head. Tamaki reached down at the rose bush and skillfully cupped one—avoiding all the thorns—and neatly picked it, detaching it from the stem.
"But I prefer not to dwell on the past," he said, outstretching the hand delicately to her with a warm, dazzling smile.
"I'd rather move forward," he commented as he rested the flower in the palms of her hands, "And make new friends."
Haruhi accepted it sheepishly, watching him for several moments before lifting the rose to her nose to inhale the sweet aroma. "Can I include you?" he inquired.
Her eyes looked up at him, some color in her cheeks rising from their hiding place behind the petals, and her squinting eyes indicated a smile. "Sure," she answered.
