Written by Miyu, Vampire Princess

AUTHOR'S NOTE:
AU to the furuba universe...well only a little I think. I wish I could say when the idea for this came to me. All I do know is that it's going to take me an eternity to write the whole piece. *sigh* This story focuses on an original character and is told from her point of view. Lemon/lime and warnings for violence will appear in other chapters.

Prologue - AN INTRODUCTION

If you're reading this then you must be in a really bad predicament. I wish I could say I am sorry, but welcome anyway. I suck at introductions, but I suppose I can give you the specifics....

My blood-type is O negative.

My Western sign is Pisces.

My favorite color is red.

My favorite food is teriyaki noodles.

My father is a businessman of Japanese descent. Ryhou, as my mother calls him, is a very reliable, powerful and good-looking man. He works hard to run his own business, often putting in far too many hours than are healthy for one person in a week's time. Yet, he's always managed to make time for mom and me.

My mother, Jun, was a Japanese-American missionary when she met my father. Studying fashion design at a local college, she met Ryhou through a friend of hers majoring in accounting. Apparently the two hit it off rather well, or else I wouldn't be here. She's the perfect compliment to my hard-working father. Easy-going with a true love of life, my mother always has a smile to share.

I grew up in a normal suburban neighborhood, outside a normal little town in Northern California. Northern California, you ask? But you're parents met in Japan, right? Yes, they did. And after they were married and my mom became pregnant, my father moved us to the United States.

Sadly it would take me 15 years to learn why.

My father's business was in San Francisco. My mother, now one of the world's leading fashion designers, also had a shop in the city. They commuted the hour every day to their jobs while I attended school in one of the best private institutions on the west coast: St. Helena's School for Gifted Children

More like St. Hell's School for Garbage.

I went there for most of my elementary career as well as middle school. I hated it there. Most of the students who weren't sucking up to teachers hated it there. Ninety percent of the teachers didn't know how to teach or totally despised their jobs. My fourth grade teacher, Ms. Norma Jean Louten, always yelled at her students, finding unique ways to harass them in front of their fellow classmates. I was no exception. Still, she was scary and easily pushing 75. We all silently hoped she'd die of a heart attack...possibly the one we tried to give her at the end of the semester. It didn't work.

Now despite the horrid time I had at school, my grades were better than average. I wasn't as stupid as I pretended to be sometimes. It was usually just easier that way. Still, I wanted out of St. Hell's.

But my loving parents ignored my pleas to transfer me somewhere else.

It wasn't because they didn't care. They did. They praised my schoolwork and had a ventured interest in my future. They attended all of the school's events with me, and my mom even volunteered to sit on the PTA board my sixth grade year. The school board had a field day with it.

And I had the school year from hell.

Still, it wasn't until I finally failed a class on purpose in the eighth grade that my parents showed any concern. They hired a tutor to come to the house twice a week and review my school work. Parent teacher meetings went on for weeks as they tried to assess what could possibly be wrong with their perfect little girl.

Boy were they shocked when they found out that the only reason I failed the class was because I never turned in my homework, even though I had completed it.

Finally I got to let loose. I told them about all the horrible things that happened to me during my eight years at the school. There wasn't much, considering I was a relatively withdrawn and quiet child. Still, my points were valid and I did my best to assure them that if I continued there, my grades would definitely suffer. One way or another. I wanted to go to another school.

In Japan.

Okay, now you're probably wondering, "Why Japan?" It's simple. My parents are from Japan. I had family there. Family I'd never met.

Family I knew nothing about!

Well, I did know one person. But only by name. I'd seen him in a picture in father's study. I asked him who it was and for once, without hesitation, he told me it was his younger brother.

His name is Shigure.

I'm not sure why, but I had this indescribable drive to get to know them. My father's family. They were a complete mystery to me. They never visited nor did we visit them. I think I remember talking to Shigure once over the phone when I was a small child, but that was it.

My mother's family was an open book. I knew my grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins. They visited. We visited them.

So why couldn't we do the same with father's family?

Sohma. The name itself evokes power. It's one of the oldest and best known names in Japan. They own several businesses and tons of land still waiting to be developed. Even my father's business, I found out much later, was an extension of the family run business in Japan.

It took some convincing, but I managed to get my father's permission to attend high school in Japan. Th arrangement was for me to live with my uncle and attend Kaiwaia High School. It was a public school, but the best in the prefecture.

Two of my cousins lived there, too, along with their housekeeper. All three were older than me by two years, but attended the same high school. I was very excited, especially for the opportunity to have two older brothers and an older sister...well sort of.

The day I arrived in Japan was the happiest day in my life!

And the very next day, I was back in hell.

Funny how happiness can fade over a short period of time. Well, perhaps more ironic than funny. Remember that my father kept his family a secret for a reason.

Well, on my first day of school, I found out that reason.

And I bet you've found out too.

That is why you're here, is it not? You, too, have been brought into the fold of the cursed Sohma family. Otherwise you would not be able to read this.

Again, I wish I could say I was sorry.

Life simply hasn't been the same since I came to Japan. My life anyway. St. Hell's is nothing compared to my life now. Once you get started you'll see. It reads like a bloody soap opera, but I guarantee you it is anything but happy.

I made a record of the events of my life simply because I wanted to be able to help someone. Someone like you. Even if it is only one person. No one should have to endure what I have endured, what most of my relatives have endured for centuries. Knowing that even one person was spared from my family curse is enough.

Of course, I shall never truly know.

By tomorrow, everything contained herein will all be but a story. A fanciful work of fiction told to awe young children and amuse adults.

For I will have no memory of it.

Oh, by the way, my name's Sierra. Sierra Sohma. My friends call me Sei-chan. It's a pleasure to meet you.

Welcome to my life.

~TO BE CONTINUED~