Mashiro Ichijo awoke in an unfamiliar room, dazed. She looked around at the peach linoleum walls, the IV drip attached to her paling arm, the eyes of her new acquaintance, Sou Mizuhashi, and finally at the two ornate golden doors right in front of her. But she was only able to catch a glimpse of the beautiful portals before they disappeared entirely, replaced by a plain, white and crooked door with a tiny window. She sat up, double-taking. Must've been my imagination.

"You awake?" inquired Sou, interrupting her thoughts with a worried look on his face.

"Yes, thank you for bringing me here. Where exactly is this place?"

"The nurse's office down by Kyoto Prep."

"It looks pretty run down."

"Yeah, not many people come here. They are all rich snobs who can afford their own personal doctors. It's ridiculous."

"And what if I'm one of those rich snobs?" Mashiro smiled.

"Well I already figured, seeing as you play lacrosse like most of those whores…but you are far from a snob. You are much prettier than those materialistic, sex-crazed girls at school."

"Pretty? In my dreams."

"I'm being totally serious here."

"A masculine girl like me...pretty? Are you sure you aren't homosexual?" Mashiro joked, lightly smacking Sou on the shoulder.

"I've always had an interest in males."

Mashiro froze, stone-faced, as Sou pulled up the sleeves of his white button-up, revealing the haunting crescent moon scar. Mashiro broke down in a cold sweat, remembering the events of that early morning. The scar. The name. It all seemed so familiar, but why? Could I have encountered him before? No. I just transferred to this school. How could that ever be possible? Mashiro looked over at Sou, who had put on a mystifying grin and his signature dark, brooding stare. Why is he staring at me?

Just then, Sou Mizuhashi leaned in abruptly and planted a deep kiss onto Mashiro's virgin lips.

"I have always loved you, Miss Mashiro Ichijo. Or would you prefer Mister?" exclaimed Sou with a sinister half-smile. He laughed, sending shivers down her spine.

He planted another kiss, a fiercer kiss, and pushed Mashiro's frail body against the nurse's bed. Standing up swiftly, he straightened his glasses and quietly slinked out of the room. Mashiro, frazzled, was shaking in disbelief, jolted by the unexpected kiss from a near stranger. Love? How can love exist between two people who barely know each other? Breaking out in cold beads of sweat once more, she started shivering violently and yelling at the pain and confusion pulsating through her bloodstream. Then, she found herself jolting up in bed. But this wasn't the same dilapidated hospital room with the peach linoleum walls and the crooked white door. It was a regular school infirmary, with a nurse by her side holding a cold compress.

What the hell just happened to me?