A full moon rose to its ivory beauty and shone its milky light into an office room. A man was sitting down in a leather swivel chair, a desk looming in front of him. His eldest son sat across from him, looking extremely worried. The man massaged his temples before reiterating the main concept. "Are you POSITIVE he was on the roof?"

"Yes sir." The son replied. "I saw him on the edge looking down with an expression of determination. I think……" here the young boy inhaled. "I think he wanted to jump off."

The man looked thoroughly surprised and appalled at the same time. Both men remain silent until the father spoke the prospect nether wished was true. "Perhaps he wishes to commit suicide?"

His son leaped out of his chair at once. "Are you crazy? He's way too young to be even THINKING of suicide, let alone have longings to perform the deed!!!"

His father merely looked impassively back at the enraged teenager. There, the man said the sentence that the young man would remember for the rest of his life. "There is always room for a first time."

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A woman with long blonde hair waited anxiously at the reserve center. She hadn't felt this nervous since she found out she was pregnant two years previous. Now, the fate of her child remained cloaked in mystery. He could be safe, merely bruised from his fall, or dead from a vicious attack by the wild animals inhabiting the national reserve.

People must've though about how inefficient her parenting skills were as her son flew from the 4x4 tour jeep and landed in the dusty trail in the middle of an African Savanna expanse. Horrified, she had immediately tried to contact the driver and tour guide to stop the truck, but the driver only spoke Swahili. By the time the driver stopped the vehicle and apprehended to the situation, the group was nearly a mile away. It was finally decided that a separate vehicle would transport the mother back to the reserve base while authorities traveled to the site of the toddler's fall to recover the missing youth.

As the trembling woman moved away from the remainder of the tourists (who would be resuming their journey), she felt as if the world had suddenly collapsed right in front of her.

"Miss?" A voice with a heavy Swahili accent called, touching her shoulder. She jumped, caught off-guard as she replayed her son's fall in her head. Slowly, she turned to the man. "Yes?" she asked, anticipating the worst.

"We found your son." He announced revealing a bruised, scarred child………but it wasn't the child she knew.

The child's hair was billowing around his head in all directions, including from his chin and neck area. He also had pointy canines and even whiskers. In that moment, she felt like the man had found the wrong child, that he had stumbled upon some other child that had been missing for much longer, but she acknowledge the truth; this was her son, like it or not. She feared for him at the same time, with his new condition, but for now, she only wished to embrace him, to place his hands-his clawed, cat-like hands-into hers for eternity.

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He was confident it wasn't his fault. That incident could never-even remotely be his doing. It was entirely his trainer's fault-all because of the adult who pushed him to the limit.

Sure, maybe he wanted to be worked on extra hard so that he could become better at martial arts. Perhaps, the hard training had produced extra sweat and strained muscles as a consequence. Even so, the trainer could've stopped, could've ignored the student's wanting to fast and go without any luxuries. The sensei was more than welcome to stop the child when he was too deprived of energy to work, but he went on anyway. The teacher had the chance, but he didn't do anything.

The child may have been responsible for asking the sensei to lock him in a dojo training room when he did something wrong. The sensei should not have listened when the child implored him not to let him out until three days time. Why did the teacher do what he was told? Why did he let such cruelty pass him by? Why? Didn't he care? Didn't he realize the child could die after not eating for over a month at his age? Didn't he understand how excruciating the whole dang thing was? Why didn't he stop the child, warm him that he was being too extreme?

Now, because of the teacher's disregard of the student's well-being, the child received a deformity, an unwanted outcome from a wish to become better skilled. Perhaps this deformity could aid him in being more successful, but it still looked strange. It still was a mishap that would never be fixed. It was still a painful scar he could never erase. But it wasn't his fault. Even if he did encourage the actions that lead up to the deformity.

It wasn't his fault.

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He never understood his friend's pain until now. The way he received his tattoo-his special case - was quite idiotic in his perspective. He didn't touch the animal. the animal was lying there and it touched him. After that, he was different.

He didn't really like the new him particulary well, since he had a hard time containing it, but he didn't think his life was over due to this change. Now, he'd be able to relate to his friend when he said he scared himself while passing a mirror. Or not being able to face his parents whenever he assumed his changed form.

But even that didn't matter. He could handle the change, and that was the thing of most importance.

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Scarlet.

He was trapped by that red color-soaked in the color. He even though the whole world could be that ugly, sticky color: red.

He looked over at the other and he, too, was trapped by the same color.

It always was like that: something and the other. They felt the same things and saw the same sights together. That was how it had been since birth. That's how it would carry on until they were lying on their deathbeds.

As of now they saw red, felt pain and the other. The pain was unbearable, but they both felt the same pain. It became bearable with that notion.

But now they felt something different. They saw and felt a third.

The third was an animal with four furry paws and a bushy tail. It gazed at the two boys, as if it wished to help, but then it scurred along on its business.

"NO!" the two shouted. "Come back!" Together, they craned their neck, streached their arms and wriggled their bodies toward the animal. They wished for another that could rescue them from the red, save them from the oozing monster they lay in, and blow out the flame of hurt flickering in their hearts. How the animal would provide that assistance, who knows? But they were desperate for respite.

Suddenly, they began to change. A pinch here, an itch there and they were different. But they were different together. With this change came new strength-enough strength for the pain to vanish. They stood simultaneously, and looked to each other before walking away, leaving the world of red in the dust.

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Author's Note: So, that's the prologue. I'm sorry if this chapter was confusing and made no sense, but it is supposed to having an aura of mystery. I'm sure you all figured out which little section went with which Ouran character. If you haven't, don't fret! All shall be revealed in time!!!!!!!!!!!! Pleases review, even if you think this fic stinks!

-AnimeOtakuFreak1029