Yukihime211 here! Sorry for not updating yet! It's really hard to do. I might have to split up the chapter or something...Anyway! While you wait, please enjoy this one shot related to the story. It takes place around Sakuya's dark age when her mother first entered the hospital. Just to make it clear, after the accident in London, her mom was rushed back to Japan where better specialized doctors where to assess her injuries. I'm thinking of maybe making a prequel to my story, but not until I actually FINISH writing Pieces of My Heart. Hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer:Don't own anything except my OCs. Sorry if the Canon Characters are a bit OOC. ^-^'

The sterile smell of the room nauseated me. I felt closed in and most importantly scared. The place where birth and death took place constantly. I hated the hospital. The slow and constant beep of the monitor did not help. I looked down at my mother's heavily bruised face. It was almost unrecognizable as the colors ranged from purple, to blue, to black. Her beautiful platinum blonde hair was unevenly chopped off and her head was bandaged heavily. A tube was inserted into her mouth to keep her breathing. She looked like a heavily abused rag doll. I fell to my knees and felt my breath come in short gasps. Panic washed over me and I began shaking uncontrollably.

"Are you alright Mazaki-chan?" questioned the nurse with concern.

I shook my head. I needed to get away now. She escorted me out of the room and left me in the waiting room. Thoughts of what had happened the past week were hard to really grasp. The proposal on marriage of course had set this all off and now my father wouldn't even look at me anymore. My friendship with Ryan was long gone. All he kept insisting on was that stupid marriage. I buried my face in my hands.

My heart felt heavy, trampled, broken, and shattered. My feelings were ripped from me and set on a plate waiting to be forked.

Friendships lost and romantic relationships never existed. Deeds and patience were never appreciated. Screams always harsh and poisonious.

My words were always silenced. Feelings built inside me never expressed outward. I would be better off not feeling anything. It hurts too much.

Broken hearts, bruised egos, and loneliness. Promises broken and forgotten. I want to run away from it all and never look back.

I want acceptance and sincerity, yet all I am brought is darkness and despair.

Tears spilled from my eyes uncontrollably. I pulled up my feet on the chair and hugged my legs to my chest. An elderly doctor entered the room and sat down beside me.

"Has your father arrived yet?" he questioned.

I shook my head and didn't even look at him. He sighed and ran his fingers through his thin peppery hair. He really had nothing to say to me unless my father was around. Until then, I wouldn't know how bad my mom's condition was.

"Doctor Wakamura, please report to room 320 to prep for surgery," called out a female voice on the intercom.

A choked sob shook my body as the doctor made his way back to the swinging doors. I fingered my choppy black hair. After the accident, I completely gave up the modeling business and went out to a salon to change my appearance. My usual long gold locks were no longer weighing me down. I figured why be happy when I've made so many people suffer already. I buried my face once more in my legs and cried to my heart's content.

A light tap shook me from my grief. I looked up to see a pair of honey colored eyes looking over at me in concern. His hair was a light brown. He looked around my age. He handed me a handkerchief with the initials K.H. on them.

"You okay?" he asked.

I shook my head and gratefully took the handkerchief. The pattern shocked me as it looked rather expensive. I calmed my tears for a bit and smiled slightly at him.

"T-thank you," I said in a hiccup-like voice.

He just smiled softly.

"What brings you here?" I questioned.

He grimaced and directed my attention to his arm. There was a blue bandaid on it.

"Shots," he explained.

I giggled softly.

"You?" he asked.

My laughter died down and I looked at my shoes.

"My mom...she...she was in an accident," I explained.

Tears tumbled down my cheeks once more. He hesitantly walked closer to and reached out his hand.

A loud scream pierced the hall. I jumped from my seat in surprise. The boy sighed.

"Looks like he needs me," muttered the boy.

I cocked my head in confusion.

"Who, exactly?" I asked.

He blushed slightly.

"My brother," he explained.

He waved and ran off. I looked down at the handerkerchief still in my hands.

"Wait! You forgot your handkerchief!" I called out.

He turned around and took a hold of the butterfly clip in my hair.

"This will do for now," he explained.

He kissed it softly and winked as he walked off with my clip. Then just like that, he left. I blushed lightly as I looked down at the only momento I had of this mysterious boy. I would treasure it forever.


Sakuya entered her room and sat on her bed. She sighed. She was having a very bad day. Not only had she been dragged into servitude by those meddiling twins, she had ruined her high school life. When a time like this came, she could always trust on a certain charm. She opened her top drawer and took out the slightly worn handkerchief and held it close. It was her security blanket.

She walked up to her window and opened its curtains. The stars were shining brightly outside and the wind carressed her light brown hair softly.

"I wonder where he is now," she whispered into the wind.

Underneath the mattress, the young man kept a small red shoe box where his most prized possessions were kept. He reached over and pulled out a pink butterfly clip and examined it in his hand. He wondered quietly if he would ever meet that girl again. Out of nowhere, he sneezed. His elder brother looked over at him with a bored expression.

"You coming down with something Kaoru?" questioned Hikaru.