Disclaimer: I do not own Ouran High School Host Club. Bisco Hatori does.

A/N: Preludes are wickedly infamous for teasing.

Rating: M overall.

Prelude in F Minor

Rain splattered across the sidewalks like bursting bombs, each drop a pierce of wild shrapnel to her fragile, welcoming skin.

It hurt to breathe.

"You marked her?"

"That's…that's not the mark."

Fire danced across her shoulder, wicked licks of flame whipping across her collarbone, wrapping around her neck, only to withdraw again.

She was trying to move, to stand up, to get away; the ground was cold and she was burning. Her body managed no more than sympathetic, weak twitches.

"Fuck, fuck! What are we going to do?"

The water painted her lips and burned her eyes, leaking down her face like tears she wasn't shedding. She couldn't wipe it away.

A growl, loud and feral and twisted, rumbled across the sidewalk and up her spine – her back arched violently in reply, and the whimper that escaped her throat hurt a thousand times more than the ripping scream that had come before.

"Akira! Don't!"

Her body wanted closer, to touch, to please. Her mind wanted to hide.

"Hold him!"

"This is insane. Fuck, just leave her. Do you have any idea what they'll do if they find out-"

Another growl silenced the dissonance of words – higher, enraged – the fire in her veins cut off like the drop of the final curtain. Strong arms, wrong arms, wrapped under her shoulders, pulling her up from the wetness, blocking her from the rain. A new chorus of screams very different from her own – she shuddered, whined, and a curse hissed from above as the arms tightened.