A/N: I have no idea why I'm starting a new fic. LOL. This idea just wouldn't leave me alone and I can see all these wonderful scenes playing out in my head, so here is the first chapter of my new VK fic. It is AU so there will be changes and adjustments and it will be a very slowly developing romance, so there will be couples/pairings in the future.

The eventual pairing I have for the end is KanamexZero, so if you do not like M/M, Yaoi or that sort of thing, please read something else. It will however, take a while to come into the story, so I will post a warning at the top of the chapters containing more mature content, so you are welcome to read along and skip that, if you like. As you read, take note of the POV hints at the section beginnings, since I can't name the dolls until Kaname does, you'll have to read the title to know who is who. Thanks for reading this long note and I hope you enjoy the story! ^_^

Current Summary: In this AU universe, Kaname Kuran is a pureblooded vampire prince, employed as a talented craftsman with the Clocktower Carpentry Corporation. He can bring his creations to life with his rich pureblood. One doll will be a silver-haired hunter. But his talented hands have been idle lately and when his latest work schedule is delayed for lack of materials, Kaname manages to secure some leftover wood for his own personal use. However, a quiet, peaceful existence is never granted to workmen of the Clocktower, when the famous legacy begins to disrupt Kaname's personal life, he will have to act.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own any Vampire Knight Anything, I only lay claim to my original characters, plot bunnies and such. It is Puppetland/Dollworld, adjustments had to be made. ~_^

Takuma's POV

Is that my master? My creator? The one who will set me free? It's dark and cold and lonely here. I wish for warmth, light and someone to be worthy of the loyalty I feel within my grain. I wish to live. Everything is so calm and quiet, but I'm so tired of it that now it bores me. I wish for things I cannot have and I am nothing more than a block of wood.

I will never be anything other than a block of wood unless someone should see me, see something within me and dare to move forward and call it out. I hear the voices, sometimes I think I can see the faces and I know there are others coming and going. I see the other blocks disappear. I see them reappear before the warehouse can empty.

Somehow, I know, that I will never be chosen.

Never.

But I long for it still.

Kaname's POV

"What do you mean the shipment is late?" There was a worried tone in the voice of the shivering young man. Joren towered over the receptionist's desk by at least two feet from the standard height and his blue eyes were swirling pools of emotion as his hands clenched into tight fists. "I specifically placed my order and I…" He stammered, turning away. "This is bad, this is very bad." Kuran will have my head for something I couldn't even control-!

"I'm terribly sorry, Sir." The receptionist intoned, her gaze never leaving the flashing computer screen. "But it is out of my hands and there is absolutely nothing here that I can do. Would you like to place a new order?" The phone rang and the answered it.

The young man bowed his head, shuffling a few steps backwards. He didn't bother to tell her that reordering wouldn't fix the current situation. He didn't bother to explain that he was from the Clockwork Carpentry Corporation and that her company's mishandling of this order would cause troubles that were well out of his own hands. He didn't bother to mention that the mishap would doubtless affect the very last person he wanted it to.

Joren sighed again, shoulders slumping as he left the fancy receptionist foyer and walked around the giant warehouse to the receiving area at the back docks. He waited to be noticed and then waved one of the workers over. He handed him the paper slip in his hand, a crisp white business card bearing his name, position and status.

It spoke for him when he did not feel like voicing the words aloud.

The worker in the orange hard-hat had immediately gone red in the face. "Ah, Joren-san, eh-"

"Just Joren is fine." The young man smiled. "Do you have any spare blocks in the warehouse that you might be able to spare? I'm afraid one of our craftsman has accompanied me and-"

The red face grew even redder as the workman sputtered for a minute and then nodded. "We have some old blocks way in the back." He admitted, at last. "And I'm not supposed to let customers into the working area without written consent of-"

"Couldn't you make an exception this time?" The new voice belonged to the young man who now stood behind Joren, one pale, thin hand raking through his thick, chocolate curls, russet red eyes piercing directly through the man before him. "You can make an exception, can't you?" He persisted, moving around Joren to arrest the attention of the red-faced man.

"Kaname-sama!" Joren started forward. "I was coming right back and-" He stopped at a raised hand over Kaname's shoulder. He knew the young man well enough by now to know that he rarely used such little gestures and that if he was using it, then he had best pay attention and listen.

The red face was quickly growing rather pale.

"Kaname?" He licked his lips nervously. "Kaname Kuran?"

The bored burgundy gaze bored even deeper into him. "Do you mind?"

The mismatched trio entered the warehouse, with the orange-hard hat worker leading the way. There were tall, shrink-wrapped pallets of wood blocks, slabs and cubes all neatly stacked, with colored paper sheets tacked to the sides, declaring where the merchandise would be shipped. They wove their way through the maze of shrink-wrapped wooden towers.

At the very back corner, they rounded on a shadowed half-pallet of wooden blocks. The worker sheepishly tugged at his plastic hat. "This is kind of like, the uh, last…I mean," He hastily corrected at Kaname's glower. "It's all we've got left. Sometimes single artists come and pick out a block here or so." He gestured towards the leftover stack of dusty wood. "I-fi you just need a few pieces until the shipment comes in, you can take it from here."

One spark of light flickered through Kaname's dark eyes as he surveyed the rejected specimens. "How much?" He asked, after the silence had stretched beyond longer than was possibly polite.

The worker flushed bright red again. "Ah, er-"

"We can put any necessary charges on the company account, yes?" Joren interjected, smoothly. "Thank you for your…assistance. I'll handle the details, if you could show me to—Kaname-sama?"

The hand waved again and Joren felt a faint flush starting at the base of his neck. He turned away, following the worker. Once the paperwork was completed, he'd find some idle hands to help them load it up. The look of intense concentration he'd seen on the young Kuran's face as the first hint of another long stretch for him. The talented craftsman was moody at his best and a downright angel of darkness at his worst. From the brewing furrow in his forehead, Joren knew that Kaname was slowly shifting into one of his moods again.

It would be best to get the genius out of the old warehouse and into his precious workshop. His hands would then be free and his conscience would be too. Sometimes just being near the pureblooded prince was too much for him.

In the darkened safety of his workshop, Kaname moved about the workspace, setting things up in the way that he usually did. He straightened his tools, blew away invisible dust from his workspace and reached for the carpenter's apron that hung on the rack beside his designer coat. The drapes were pulled shut and the lights were kept low. One lone spotlight illuminated a sturdy block of wood, seven feet by four, a lovely rectangular specimen awaiting his masterful touch.

"Hello." Kaname breathed, he knotted the heavy work apron behind his back and tugged at the neckline. Moving up to the block of wood, he turned his face to the side, pressing his ear to the surface. He listened, eyes half-lidded for a long moment and then he pulled away, pressing a chaste kiss to the rough surface. "You are going to be mine." He told the block. "And I am going to call you…Takuma." He brushed gentle fingers against the roughened surface. "You are going to be my first."

Takuma's POV

His words thrilled me to the very fibers of my being. His voice was soft like velvet and dark like the blackness that I knew all too well. But when he spoke to me…when he named me…I wanted to cry with happiness.

~*~*~*Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed this first taste. Please review-I love the feedback!~*~*~