A/N: Lately, this concept has been on my mind. I know it's not a popular romance route, but I always had a soft spot for Haru. I don't think the game did her justice and, with this story, I intend to build upon her character and offer my interpretation of Haru Okumura.

Prologue. Wither...

(Early March) Evening

Since the day she was born, Haru had dared to dream.

It began with words floating off the page, turning, actualizing into a world that she could explore. The Okumura personal library was vast and extensive, ranging from every conceivable style and genre. It was within these walls that Haru dreamt of lives far greater than her own.

It was there that she hid when the yelling became too much. And it was there that she stayed when everything eventually had fallen into a cold and hollow silence.

For as long as she was old enough to write and read, a private tutor had come to the penthouse and instructed her privately. It wasn't until her first year at Shujin Academy that she shared an education with her peers. Even then, after all those years, she found more solace in the company of her dreams than the sudden exposure to teenage socializing.

It was within the first month of her first term that she founded the gardening club, with her as its only member. Typically that would have been prohibited, but her name, loathe as she was to use it, carried enough weight to allow for some exception.

Haru had always had a fondness for plantlife. As a child she had been fascinated with the process of its growth and the steps needed to nurture it. As she got older, it became a point of pride to help whatever she grew thrive and flourish.

There was something satisfying about seeing something grow, even blossom into something beautiful.

For the next two years, after its inception, Haru tended to and labored for Shujin's steadily growing assortment of foliage and herbage. She was used to keeping to herself, and it became easier and easier with every semester as she was known for her solitude.

That wasn't to say she disliked people, or avoided them. In class she was cordial and polite, earning a few invites to join her classmates outside school for various activities. She even had been asked out on a couple of dates.

Still, for both, she declined politely.

There was nothing wrong with her classmates, or the boys that fancied her, in fact a small flutter of flattery had given her a blush each time it had happened. But Haru knew better, she knew what would happen if she said yes.

Despite knowing what would happen, Haru retained a fascination with romance. It had been a dream of hers that had persisted since she was a little girl. She had read almost every book in the Okumura study even remotely pertaining to the intimate bonds two people could share. Whether it was an anatomical book about intercourse, or a fairy tale romance, Haru had read with a zealous interest.

Even if it was cliche and gendered, Haru dreamed of a fantastical and passionate romance. In all honesty, she didn't know what she was looking for, or expecting. In theory she knew how people bonded together and fell in love, but when it came to the prospects of real, actual love, it left her clueless.

But that was okay, she still had plenty of time. Haru was content to wait. She only had one more year of high school left before she planned to study abroad in college. Then it was only two more years until she turned twenty. From there, every dream, every wish, every want, could become a reality.

Maybe then, she would meet him.

Many years ago, on a rainy day in Shibuya, she'd met a boy with messy raven hair. For all her formative years she had spent sheltered, their meeting had been the only exception. It was childish, not to mention unlikely, but part of her wanted to see him again. It would be just like one of the many stories she'd read. He was her fated love, meeting young, only to reunite as adults.

She'd written countless love letters to the mystery boy. Haru blushed at the silliness of it all now but back then it had been an extension to the real world.

If she was honest, he was more of a concept, an ideal, than a person. She'd forgotten bits in pieces of their encounter over the years, even what his face looked like. But, nevertheless, the thought of it never failed to bring a smile to her face.

"Young Miss, your father wishes to see you in his study."

The night air brushed across the nape of her neck and everything settled back into place. Haru stood up from the flowerbeds she had been tending to on the balcony of the Okumura penthouse.

Brushing her hands off, she turned and faced the penthouse maid.

"Thank you, Hoshi-san, I'll be inside in just a moment."

Hoshi nodded back to her and slipped back inside, giving Haru a moment of privacy. Her hazel eyes drifted back to the wide expanse of the city below. A stronger gust of wind blew from the side and ruffled through her light auburn hair. A soft smile came to her lips as she noticed a lone sakura petal floating along, caught in the breeze.

She reached out as it fluttered down, landing gently in her palm. Holding it with her for a moment, she made a wish. Just as quickly as it had come to her, she opened her palm and the wind took hold once more.

Haru watched carefully as it disappeared into the night.

"Be free."

She was surely drowning.

Haru floated upright in the solemn dim light of her father's study. It felt murky, cold, and everything was muffled. She started to sink. She was numb.

"Haru?!"

Her father's snapping call yanked her to the surface. She breathed and almost choked. Her breath was sharp and faint as she hid every fiber of panic and distress that coursed through her.

"Yes, father," she answered meekly, "I'm listening."

Kunikazu Okumura leaned back into his chair from behind his ornate desk and wore a pleased smile.

"Good, now as I was saying…"

This couldn't be real. It just couldn't. Haru wanted to scream. She tensed her muscles to keep from making fists.

"...Sugimura's father is an important man. Your marriage will solidify business between our two companies. This deal is very important Haru, you understand…"

He gave her a familiar look; one that said she had better agree.

"...right?"

No. This was wrong. This was all wrong. Haru's plans, her dreams, were crumbling before her. Nothing would change. Three years from now she would still have to do as she was told, just not by her father.

All this time she had let her life be dictated for her because she thought if she followed along, she would eventually be set free.

Her father regarded her expectantly, the same way one would regard a dog when they had asked it to sit. The leash was tightening.

Protest. Fight!

Haru lowered her head, not able to meet his gaze anymore. It took everything she had to keep from shaking as she responded.

"Of course, father…I am an Okumura daughter."

The last part was said in resignation. An admittance and consignment to her fate. Behind all the catastrophic emotions, she tried to rationalize a silver lining.

Maybe Sugimura would be a good man.

That night, Haru cried herself to sleep.

(Mid-March) Afternoon

Haru sat in her bathroom with her knees up to her chest. She held herself steadfast as the day's events kept replaying in her head.

Today had been the day she met Sugimura.

It had started well. Her father, Sugimura, and his father, had all gone out for lunch. He seemed like a polite young man, charming, if bold. Upon their meeting, he casually discussed their engagement and had even kissed the back of her hand in greeting.

But it didn't feel right.

She had stomached those thoughts and carried on. Looking back, she should have listened to them. After lunch, Sugimura had offered to drive her back to the Okumura penthouse in his limousine. Both of their fathers thought it was a good idea and a way for them to get to know each other one on one.

Haru had been nervous, anxious even, but hadn't seen any tangible harm in it. As soon as the car door shut the locks clicked into place and a spike of fear shot through her. The car pulled away from the restaurant, and with its tinted black windows, they were alone.

He scooted closer to her. She felt her muscles tighten and her body clench.

'Why don't we get better acquainted?'

His voice had been low, but hungry, and that scared her. Sugimura placed an arm around her and she was forced into his side.

The mere contact made her want to break the car window and run away. His hand hovered low and a single digit caressed the side of her breast.

Immediately she pushed him away, wishing desperately that she could unlive that last two seconds of her life. She held in her urge to strike him. Sugimura's eyes had turned cold and she covered up her panic and disgust with nervousness.

Slowly, he smiled with a leer in his eyes and seemed pleased. Whatever he was imagining of her made her blood boil. He then said, 'don't worry, we'll take it slow, but it's natural that your fiance should be familiar with you.'

The rest of the car ride was spent with her teeth clenched as his hand rested on her knee, the fear of it moving up her leg screaming inside her head.

When they reached her apartment building, she played the skittish young girl, avoiding as much contact as possible. This only seemed to wet his appetite even more.

It wasn't until she had passed through the building's doors, away from his sight, that she was able to feel the slightest modicum of safety.

Even now, sitting on the toilet seat, hunched over and curled in on herself, she didn't feel completely safe. Haru had tried, she really had, to see the best sides of the man she was to marry. But she knew that wasn't going to happen now.

She knew what kind of man he was.

He was going to rape her.

And she was arranged to spend the rest of her life with him. Her father wouldn't listen, he never did. She was stuck.

Everything fizzled into nothing as she was consumed. It was over, her life… if it ever really was her life. Perhaps she misunderstood and it was simply on loan from her father. The thought was bitter, jaded and angry.

Haru wanted to laugh to spite her despair.

Maybe her mother had it right when she had left this family. More than ever, she wished her mother, wherever she was, had taken her too. In the eleven years that she had been gone, not once had Haru heard from her, or had any sign that she was coming back. Least of all, to save her.

Haru began to cry.

Her emotions stormed and rampaged through her synapses, and before she knew it she was on her knees, heaving, clutching the bathtub for support as she screamed.

When her voice wore out, she sat loose with her back to the tub and her head resting on its edge. In a matter of weeks, all the good behavior she'd thought she'd displayed to her father had afforded her nothing. She was nothing, worth only as much as her bargaining price.

Abruptly, she rose from the bathroom floor and unlocked the door. On the other side, standing in her room, was a very worried and distressed Hoshi.

"Young Miss, I-"

Haru didn't hear it.

"Is my father home?" she asked, monotone but with force.

Hoshi's worry bled away into defeat as she realized the state Haru was in.

"No, young Miss."

"Good."

Haru walked past the maid and kneeled down next to her nightstand. She pulled the bottom drawer until it was removed entirely from the frame. She set aside the contents until the drawer was empty and then, with some dexterity, removed the bottom of the drawer.

Hidden away were three stacks of paper, some neat, some folded. She pulled them all out until all that was left was a single photograph. Carefully, she picked up the picture and tucked it away with the other papers.

Hoshi could only watch, unsure of what to do. After gathering everything, Haru faced the maid.

"Hoshi-san, could you start a fire please?" she requested, a slight pitch of pleasantness in her tone.

Hoshi, desperately wanting to help, nodded, and they made their way to the living room fireplace.

Evening

Haru sat in front of a contained blaze as she sipped a fresh cup of tea. She soon set it down on a nearby side table and replaced it with her collection of papers.

In her hands was every love letter she ever wrote to the mystery boy. Every fantastical dream of a wonderful partner that would sweep her off her feet, was collected and penned within those pages.

The next stack was the letters she wrote to her mother. The thoughts, the longing, the want for someone else to be her guardian. She never sent them, not that her father would have allowed her anyway.

The final stack was a collection of thoughts. Haru had dared to dream, to want more for her life. It was all there, every wish, every fantasy. Some were confessions, some were angry, some were just for her.

None of it mattered now.

With a long breath in and a long breath out, she mixed the piles together and began burning at random. She watched as the paper fluttered in the heat, crinkling, igniting, and withering away in the ashes.

She could still make out some of the words written on the pages before they were consumed.

'Dear Mystery Boy…'

'...I miss you mother'

'I hate my life…'

When all the pages had burned bright and fast, she reached into her pocket and pulled out the photograph. It was worn down with dull edges and faded colors. She looked at it a while longer, the fire flickering behind it as if asking for permission to burn.

With a flick, the memento of a time long passed sailed into the hungry flames. Haru reached to the side table and raised the teacup to her lips, taking a steady sip as she watched the corners burn first.

Quickly, it scorched and the film began to bubble. She watched on, emotionless, as the image of her smiling parents holding a newborn baby girl warped and blackened.

Even when nothing was left, Haru stayed to watch the fire burn.

It felt... good.

(April 11) After School

Haru's third year at Shujin began normally.

The days since burning her secrets had passed in a blur. She had been on autopilot for most of it, going through the motions robotically. Haru had been able to avoid Sugimura since their initial meeting. Thankfully, with the new fiscal year, he'd been busy at his father's company.

Still, his brief absence did nothing to soothe her nerves. It was only a matter of time before she would be forced into his company again.

Compared to her prospective fate with Sugimura, school work seemed trivial and pointless. Before she had been motivated to do well in order to get into a good college far away from her father's influence.

That didn't matter now. Educated or not, she'd just be an accessory to Sugimura's life. He didn't even see her as a human being.

Since the start of the term, a startling sense of apathy had taken root. Of course she completed her classwork, studied, and put on a good front. These were all basic expectations that had been ingrained as habits.

The only true solace she found was in the gardens she cared for.

But even that had its limits.

After classes had ended, Haru walked the halls, making her way to the faculty office to discuss her access to the rooftop garden. It was normally left unlocked but every year she had to sign a document saying she was responsible for anything that happened.

As she passed by the second year classes, the students seemed to be whispering excitedly. When she thought of it, all week had been similar.

Perhaps there was some new gossip in the Shujin rumor mill. She hadn't paid much attention to anything in the last couple weeks, least of all to the hushed rumors that floated around.

Walking by a particularly large group of students, she caught some of their words.

"That's him isn't it? The transfer student with a criminal record?"

Haru followed their gaze and found herself looking at a tall boy with dark messy hair and glasses. He was speaking with a female teacher and a blonde student.

"You see that? He's already in cahoots with Sakamoto. As if one delinquent wasn't enough to worry about."

Haru sighed as she examined the supposed 'delinquent' transfer student.

People their age could be so cruel and judgemental. She supposed his arrival had been the cause of the buzzing rumors.

It was almost sad.

If he had arrived under different circumstances he would have been the talk of the school anyway with his good looks and height.

Giving him one last glance, she continued on.

Once upon a time, Haru would have let herself dream about the transfer student. She'd concoct a fun little fantasy about their meeting and wild teenage romance.

But that was no longer a luxury she possessed. There were no more dreams for her, only the cold and bitter reality. Life would go on, for her father, for Sugimura, but not for her. Haru's life had ended in flames that night in March.

All that was left was a name.

Haru Okumura.

Dutiful daughter and soon to be obedient wife.

It made her sick. It was like a rot that festered in the corners of her mind. Even working on the garden today hadn't alleviated her distress. She felt so helpless.

But instead of a pervasive despair, she found purchase in a different, more volatile, emotion.

Rage.

A/N: So… thoughts? I'm honestly curious what you will think of this. If you look at the knitty gritty details of Haru's situation, it tells a distressing tale. One I hope to convey properly. Yes this was a dark and miserable chapter, but we have to start from somewhere. Until next time, farewell.

Edits: Typos