I don't own Vampire Knight (if I did it'd be way different trust me). All I own is my personal writing, and the way Yuuki interacts with the world in this, as it's my unique spin on this.

I noticed a lack of recent SI-Yuuki fics here on and other fanfiction sites. Which seems like a shame because the universe itself is really cool? So I figured I would put what I want to read into the world. This story has been gesticulating in my head and notebooks for awhile.That said, please favorite and follow, read and review! It'd be nice to get encouragement. (If anyone can explain how to get lines to me that'd be really cool!)

Warnings: I can get kind of "bashy" with certain characters (Kaname, Aidou) though that won't come up until the "Night" chapters, and there's violence and blood. No sex or anything though, and minimal swearing.

EDIT: (May 24th, 2019) I have access to a legitimate computer, even if only temporarily. So I'm going to be adding lines to the chapters i've already written!

"The world seems full of good men, even if there are monsters in it."

- Bram Stoker, Dracula

She is in a hospital room- it's empty, and cold. Abnormally cold, really. The walls are powdery blue, the ceiling grayish. She can't really feel anything but the cold, though she can see several machines to her left- an IV drip, a heart monitor, something expanding and contracting with mechanical hisses and inhales. W-what? There is no pain to indicate why she is currently in this hospital room. Why am I..?

Reaching a hand up, she feels tentatively at the face mask covering her lower face, and, reflexively, she tries to swallow and immediately begins to gag. She digs her fingers under the edges of the mask, dragging it up and then away, the fragile plastic band holding it to her head snapping. She reflexively gags further as the tube in her throat is dragged upwards, the feeling of it painful and burning. She leans upwards, sitting up, and breathes as deeply as she is able for a while before it evens out. The pain is uncomfortable, but no longer distracting or terrible.

There is a table to her right, holding a box of tissues and a TV remote. Also to the right, a few feet away, there is a large window. It is either too bright to see outside properly, or there is a blizzard outside. And, really, it is cold enough in the room for that to be at least mildly possible. She turns, throwing her legs over the side of the bed, feeling drawn to the window.

The cold increases drastically when her skin is exposed to the air, as expected, and she shivers slightly, goosebumps spreading over the skin not covered by the thin pale blue hospital gown she is wearing. She doesn't allow the cold to deter her from her goal to reach the window. She checks the length of the hospital equipment she is connected to, then scoots off of the bed, planting her feet carefully flat against the hospital tiles.

Where… It's obviously a hospital room. Why am I here?

She looks herself over- there is some discoloration on all of her visible skin, she thinks, tinting her vaguely yellowish. She turns her attention back upwards, extending the arm not connected to her IV, carefully making sure she is not tangled up. She is still much too far from the window for her to reach it from where she stands. She takes an unsteady, shuffling step forward, aware of how unsteady and weak her legs are, but something just beneath her ability to catch urging her to the window. She knows there is something, knows it is just beneath her uppermost layer of consciousness, but that does not allow her to know it.

It takes three steps before her connected arm is crooked and tilted to face behind her, the equipment pulled taut- but she doesn't want to stop. She is so close to her goal, she can feel waves of cold radiating from the glass of the window. She looks back down to the equipment in the crook of her arm, then back to the window.

I'm… So close… She takes another step forward, her arm twinging painfully, but her palm pressing flat against the icy chill of the glass. Her fingers splay out, and she stares through the gaps in her fingers, transfixed, before her hand moves. It's out of her control, her subconscious directing the limb, and then the window is being dragged open.

The blast of air is arctic and powerful, sending an explosion of white powder into her face and shoving her to the ground, forcefully disconnecting her from the IV and the heart monitor, waves of pain pulsing through her suddenly. The wind and snow swirls chaotically around the room with a loud howl, the temperature of both her body and the room lowering drastically and continuously.

She can tell that she should close the window. Leave the room. Something. But she can't… The cold is so relaxing…

Everything is white when she opens her eyes. She can't remember closing them- can't really remember anything at all, really. Other than that barren, impersonal hospital room. She looks down.

She's no longer connected to any hospital equipment, there's no sign of any of it, and she's similarly no longer dressed in the hospital gown. She is wearing a white coat with a fur lined hood of similar color, gray colored mittens and boots, and a dress beneath that. Her calves and the backs of her knees are freezing, and as snow is blown about wildly, her hair whips around her head. It is deep brown, with a slightly rust colored hue, and long.

There is a crunch distantly in the snow, barely audible over the sound of the wind of the blizzard around her. She turns in the direction of the sound, and spots a hunched figure walking in her direction, their coat and scarf flying around wildly.

As the figure gets closer, she sees that it is a man. He is maybe in his late twenties, and is dressed for the weather. He's wearing a long coat, and a scarf. Something about him is… Terrifying.

"Are you lost, little girl?" The man asks. It takes her a moment to compute the words- she knows she understands, and that she has been spoken to before, but she has no memory of it. "If that's the case," the man's lips peel away from his teeth, baring sharpened fangs, his eyes flaring into a livid red glow, "can I drink your blood?"

The man reaches out, palm partially covering her face and fingers wrapping around the overtop of her skull, his other hand grabbing and dragging at the fur lining the collar and hood of her coat. It happens too quickly for her to try and get away or resist, and his face lowers to her throat.

What's happening- What? No, this isn't- Help!

A figure appears next to the man in a second, the following sound is loud and sickening, its origin happening before she can visually process it. Something warm and wet splatters against her face, and she collapses to her knees in weak relief. Red flies in every direction, and the image in front of her becomes clear.

There is a boy, in his early teens, maybe. He is wearing a tan colored coat, with a white scarf. His hair is long for a boy, but still short, touching the bottom of his chin in places and the bottom of his nose in others. It is a very dark color, a brown so dark it appears black, and his eyes glow red. He has an arm extended, shoved through the chest of the man who had tried to attack her.

"You're a disgrace to all vampires," the boy says in a frigid voice, a furious monotone.

Vampires? That man… was a vampire. This boy is also a vampire. It is familiar to her, in a vague, distant way. Similar to déjà vu, the information sifting through her consciousness like sand. The boy retracts his hand, bringing it to his face and licking it. The body of the man drops, and the boy turns completely in her direction, having previously been only partially turned to her.

"Are you okay?" The boy inquires with a distant expression on his face, though his entire attention is on her. When she doesn't respond, the action beyond her at the moment, he frowns slightly and he stops licking at the blood on his hands. "Is everything alright?"

She reaches a hand up to her face, and when the mitten connects to her cheek then pulls away, she is unsurprised to see blood staining the pale wool. She brings it close to her face, oddly transfixed by the crimson stain, and then a hand enters her view, gently pulling her hand back.

"Don't touch that," he scolds gently, releasing her hand from his after a moment of stillness, that hand reaching to her face and swiping at the blood there. "I said… Why are you here alone in this sort of place?" She looks up into his face as he retracts his hand, licking those fingers as his other hand reaches for her own, the one covered in blood.

The question seems disingenuous, asked for the sake of asking, but his eyes are wary, concerned. It is a contrast to his previous expression.

"Come here," he calls as he reaches with his bloody hand, wrapping it around her own without her actually giving it to him, though she doesn't completely mind, as she has blood on herself, anyways, and she would prefer to hold onto him. "I'm Kaname. You?"

She doesn't answer as the scent of blood clots in her nose, and he gives her a look, more searching, still wary and concerned. Either her sudden frantic thoughts are showing in her eyes, or it is her silence that is dragging on that makes him so worried.

Me? I… Who am I? She feels her face heat up, and tears beginning to prick at her eyes. His eyes widen and then his entire body swivels, turning and kneeling down in the snow, reaching forward and wrapping his arms around her, one hand cradling her head close to his neck softly.

"Oh, it's okay… You are afraid, right? It's alright now…" He comforts, voice gentle. She isn't afraid though- well, not anymore. Some tears escape her eyes out of her control, her arms wrapping around his neck.

"I understand that," the man across from them says, continuing the conversation she has not really been listening to. He has long, ash colored hair and hazel eyes, hidden behind oval shaped wireless glasses. He also seems to be wearing at least four layers of clothes, including a scarf, despite the warmth of his home. Kaname had helped her out of her winter layers, revealing her pale pink colored dress, with a turtleneck-esque collar and long sleeves. Kaname had also taken off her boots, revealing that she hadn't been wearing socks.

"You're the son left behind by the person I am indebted to…" The man continues as she reaches out to take hold of the food that had been given to her. It's golden colored, with what looks like chocolate on top. It isn't that it doesn't look good, because it does, but she isn't actually sure what it is. It jiggles a little, though, as she shakes her hand a little. She sniffs it hesitantly, wary of trying it. "This child doesn't seem to know that pudding can be eaten…"

She glances up in surprise- pudding? This is pudding? Then she pokes it hesitantly to test it's texture and hopefully get some onto a finger to taste test it, ignoring the spoon on the side of the dish.

"Yeah… Her memories seem to have disappeared completely," Kaname says in a quiet, subdued tone. He then reaches over, taking the bowl and pulling the spoon from the edge of the dish, scooping up some of the pudding. "You should use a spoon to eat it… Yes, ahhh," he prompts, reaching the spoon to her face after setting the bowl onto his thigh. He opens his mouth, as though to show her what to do, and she is transfixed momentarily by his rust-brown gaze- it's gentle, painfully so, and when she opens her mouth mechanically to eat the bite extended to her, swallowing it immediately, her gaze doesn't stray from his. He seems similarly transfixed for a minute before pushing the bowl of pudding into her hands and standing.

She is left feeling slightly bereft.

"Chairman Cross, I think I should get back," he says in a solemn but stiff tone.

"Back… To that place? It wasn't easy for you to leave… Since your parents have died, that place has become an Oni's den that tries to make use of you…" The man, Chairman Cross, looks disgusted and worried. "Would it be so bad to stay for awhile?"

"Still… I should go back…" Kaname insists, face a disinterested, polite mask. His eyes track back to her, still sitting on the couch and watching him with an intent gaze. "Bye bye," he bids, turning and leaving with a somewhat reluctant air. Cross turns back in her direction after showing Kaname out, and approaches her, crouching in front of her with a kind expression.

"Someone once told me 'all girls are born princesses'. So, from now on you're my 'gentle princess'. So, I'll name you Yuuki. That means 'gentle princess'. Is that okay?" He reaches out to rest a hand on her head, and she doesn't see any need to protest, feeling somewhat more grounded to have a name for herself.

Yuuki stares at herself in the mirror with a sort of uncomfortable déjà vu.

She has dark brown hair reaching her mid back, pale skin and large rust colored eyes that are almost an exact shade match to her hair, which are what is causing her déjà vu. She is very young, and small, which she hadn't really realized before. She is maybe 5, or an exceptionally small 6 year old. She turns her attention back to the clothes that she had been given to change into before the mirror had startled her.

Cross had been helping her dress whenever she needed to change clothes, not that she protested, and he had left her to try on her own this time, doing something elsewhere in the house.

Sitting down next to the pile of clothes, she pulls the towel from her recent bath up over her shoulders as a type of cloak as an attempt to cover that she is only wearing her underwear, and picks up the nearest article of clothing. It's a sock.

… It's also neon purple.

She holds it up to the light, as though that will somehow change its color. It does not.

"Yuuki, that is wrapping for your foot!" Cross' voice from the doorway is mildly startling, but she does not show it. She turns her gaze to him, still holding the sock up, and gazes at him blandly before dropping the sock and then grabbing another piece of clothing. She keeps him in her peripherals. Cross leans up against the doorframe of the room she had been given, wearing flannel pajamas, wrapped in a visibly thick blanket. "It's been a week, but still no words from you…" He sighs a little, his face worried and fond simultaneously. She frowns slightly- which looks more like a pout, really- and it's a subtle expression.

She has tried to talk, but it just hasn't been happening. Elsewhere in the house, a door slams open. Yuuki, already familiar to what that means, scrambles to get dressed as Cross turns away.

"Good evening Kaname-kun, why suddenly come here?" Cross asks nonchalantly, as though he has no idea why Kaname would be sudden;y barging into his home.

"Eh…?" The voice is definitely Kaname's. Yuuki scrambles slightly frantically, and does not exactly care how she is wearing the clothes she is snatching, so long as she does so. "Didn't you send a telegram saying that vampires who are tracking her attacked this place?" Kaname's voice slowly travels from confused to resigned. "Though I was skeptical… I ran away from my watchers and hurried, running all the way here…"

Cross' snickering prompts his next sentences, spoken in a growling tone that sounds incredibly disappointed.

"You were lying, huh? I won't ever believe you again…" Cross turns to see Yuuki again and begins to yell, making her freeze in place in surprise.

"Kaname-kun! Kaname-kun! Something happened! Look!" She widens her eyes further, absolutely frozen, but then there is Kaname, wide-eyed, looking absolutely gobsmacked. Yuuki is inside of a flannel shirt similar to what Cross is wearing. The shirt is awkward and crooked, her upper half poking out of the collar as though it is a dress, but it is skewed, the shoulder and arm simply atop her head.

"Yuuki put on her clothes by herself!" Cross' face is flushed, his eyes teary. "It's wrong, but…"

With a small gasp, Yuuki snatches up the towel she'd let fall behind her in her mad scramble and throws it over herself, curling up close to the ground like a pillbug. She feels a breeze on the backs of her thighs, but stubbornly remains in place.

That is, until she hears a wheeze of air, a wholly unfamiliar and unexpected sound. She wiggles and lifts her head until she is peeking out of her towel cloak, staring with a mix of awe and surprise. The sound of his laughter is exuberant, loud and earnest. He slaps his palm against the wall afew times, doubling over, and from her low vantage point, she can see his wide smile, eyes closed with small tears at the edges, and flushed cheeks.

He looks years younger. It makes Yuuki kind of sad, actually. That he usually looks and acts so solemn, so much older.

"What… What to do? Kaname-kun has broken down!" Cross frets, pacing in a circle while Kaname is in the midst of hysterics.

"No… No… This is not the time to laugh…" Kaname manages to gasp between his laughter, eventually managing to stop and straighten from where he had been crouched almost completely to the ground. "Ah," he wipes at his face, still flushed and smiling, "sorry if I scared you. I'll leave now…" He turns, smile lessening, and the small bubble of admiration and fondness that had been building without her notice swells up behind her ribs and lodges itself in her throat. "Bye bye…"

She moves before she realizes she is doing so, moving to him and grabbing onto the back of his coat. He turns and his face is shut down, eyes hesitant.

"No," her voice is a surprise, and his eyes widen. "Kana… me." She morphs her face into a smile, trying to convey the warm feelings swarming inside of her. "Kaname."

"Did you tell a lie to get Kaname to come here again?" Yuuki asks Cross somewhat warily as he fusses at the stove, adamantly ignoring the 'sama' honorific he'd been trying to get her to use in the name of "cuteness"- she isn't that gullible. He really isn't very subtle. His movements twitchy. It's probably because everytime that he does this, Kaname really worries despite always saying that he will never listen to Cross again, and it really doesn't help that Cross is never actually repentant.

Kaname is truly fond of her for reasons she can't completely understand, though she has suspicions (as wild or strange as they are). The reasons for her fondness are fairly obvious, however. He is her savior, and that is the basis of it, no matter how it has evolved.

But no matter his fondness for her, there is really only so often that she can save Cross from Kaname's honestly justified ire before she either stops trying or Kaname simply goes around her to enact his revenge.

Cross' nervous giggling isn't comforting.

She sighs and tromps off to go get dressed to go outside- it has been snowing a lot outside these past few days, so she will really have to get completely dressed. Last time she had not, Kaname had looked so worried for her health and made her promise to never do so again. She'd felt so bad about compounding onto his distress that she'd sworn almost immediately.

It hadn't really helped anything when she got a cold a day later.

She eventually heads outside in a fur lined cloak, dress, white tights and boots, mittens snug over her fingers. She doesn't mind the dresses, but she is thinking about asking Cross for more pants for leisure wear. The dresses make it awfully hard to keep very warm. It is a few minutes before Cross is at the door behind her.

"Yuuki…! It's cold out there, come wait inside." She can tell, instinctively, that there's no point to do so now. She turns, hearing a foot crunching through the upper layer of snow just as her turn is completed.

"Kaname-nii!" She exclaims happily, noting his stiffening as she launches in his direction. His previously polite mask morphs into an awkward smile, his face confused, but happy- though that happiness is something that she is seeing less and less often in his eyes with every visit, as rare as they are.

"Kaname… 'nii'?"He wonders, loud enough for her to hear but seemingly not addressed to her, so she does not respond to it- similarly, she does not feel the need to tell Kaname that Cross had been trying to convince her to call him "Kaname-sama", which… Hadn't sat well with her. She still isn't sure why.

"Today is 'Yuuki's birthday! It's been a year since you saved me," she informs him, smiling up at him and still keeping ahold of his waist. He wraps his arms loosely around her and her smile goes up a few notches at the action, and he turns his head slightly to the side.

"...Hearing that Yuuki had been kidnapped, I rushed over… Haven't you had enough? Can't you call me by normal methods? Don't you think so, Chairman Cross?"

"So, today," Yuuki says. Bouncing slightly in his grasp but not moving away even slightly. He looks back at her. "Congratulations. Kaname-nii!" She cheers as chirpily as she can. At his slightly dumbfounded look, she hesitates, her expression getting fixed in place. "Right…?" Did I mess up?

"No, it's wrong, Yuuki," Kaname corrects gently with a small smile, moving down to close to a kneel with a small smile and a softened gaze. "Today, it's congratulations to Yuuki- to you." He leans closer to her. "But, thank you," he murmurs, pressing his lips against her forehead carefully.