Transferred into Hakuou!? (Hakuouki Fanfiction)

Replay 1: Cherry Blossom Margin

It is already midnight when I awaken from my deep slumber.

I rub my rather sore eyes, switching on the lamp by my bedside when I notice three nicely-wrapped presents sitting on my table. Recalling that yesterday was my birthday, I pick up the orange gift and begin to unwrap it. There is a snowflake necklace in the box, and I immediately know who it is from.

Chuckling, I put on the necklace enthusiastically. It sits in between my collarbones, and I giggle at my father's choice of gift. My father has never given me anything before, so the gift is really precious.

Next, I reach out to grab the small blue present. Without having to unwrap it I know who had prepared it--Yamada.

Inside the box, there is a four-leaved clover sealed between two thin pieces of glass. Knowing my servant's DIY-is-the-best-gift-ever logic, he must had found the clover somewhere and made this himself. He probably made this because I need it--luck, that is.

I glance at the last package. It is a red cube, wrapped by what looks like fabric--the person who chose this must have some high-class tastes. For a moment I hope against hope that my mother had came back, but as I tear the elegant paper apart I know that it isn't her.

I blink at the present in confusion after removing the lid of the box. What is this? I think it is called the snow globe, but when I tilt it upside down and then back up, small pink flakes alike to cherry blossom petals instead of snow fall. Curious, I wonder for a second who the giver is.

It is then I notice that in the globe, under a pink cherry blossom tree, there is a boy and a girl sitting on a wooden bench, seemingly involved in a conversation.

An image flashes right before my eyes as my grip on the snow globe loosens. It bounces off the carpet without gaining a single scratch. My head throbs so painfully cold sweat begin to roll down from my forehead. I hastily reach out to my drawer, searching frantically for my painkillers. Panting, I soon find it difficult to breath as my heart pounds so hard I am afraid it will burst out of my chest.

I manage to open my bottle of painkillers, but my shaking palms are so sweaty it slips out of my hands and spills its contents onto the bed and floor.

It is then I hear the door open through my ringing ears and feel someone holding me. My vision clears for a while, and the last thing I see is Okita Mitsu's worried expression.

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That image that had show itself so clearly is now so vague I begin to question myself if I really had seen it.

Sighing, I bring the spoon to my mouth and wince at the heat. I blow at it a few more times before I pour it down my throat. Beside my bed, my father and Mitsu stand, watching me as I devour my bowl of porridge hungrily.

"Are you sure you don't need me to feed you?" My father asks, his worried eyes scanning me.

I roll my eyes. "No, especially in front of outsiders," I say, eyeing Mitsu. In response, she just gives me one of her usual smiles.

My father sighs, exhausted, and I feel guilty for a second. "Please don't be rude to Mitsu-san. She may be your stepmother in the future..." He mumbles that last part just as I choke on my food.

"I will not stay here if she does!" I sulk, setting my now-empty bowl on the tray. Yamada quietly takes it out of my lap and leaves my room.

"Please don't act like this." My father's eyes are glistering with tears. Taken aback, I frown at him. Has he always been a crybaby?

After several moments I can't resist his puppy eyes any longer. "Fine. I will tolerate her for now. Marriage is another question, though." I glare at the still smiling woman next to my father. "Any more stupid news?" I fold my arms impatiently.

My father's eyes meet Mitsu's and both of them shake their heads. "None. At least for now..." He trails off and claps his hands suddenly. "Now, the doctor says that you need a lot of rest, so Mitsu-san and I are stepping out." His hand pats my head, and I raise my eyebrows. It seems like my father has been acting...a little more like a father after my coma.

I glare at my father's hand which is wrapped aroung Mitsu's waist. When the door closes, my head hits the pillow heavily. I glance at the snow globe by my bed and turn it upside down, watching as the petals fall onto the glass. What was that image? I have a bad feeling about it.

Someone knocks on my door once, and I call out for them to come in. It is Yamada, looking very apologetic for disturbing my thoughts. There is something clutched in his hand.

"Jun-kun, here it is." He hands an alarm to me and I takes it reluctantly. "Next time you have a panic attack, press it and I'll come running." He stops and sighs. "However, I am sorry to say that I will not be here tomorrow." Seeing my expression, he bows. "My son has a parents' meeting in school, and I have to be there."

I shake my head, laughing softly. "Don't apologise. Your son is important to you after all."

Yamada stands there, staring at me for a while. "You know," he starts. "You've changed after you woke up from your coma. Of course," he hurriedly says, "It isn't a bad thing."

"What do you mean?" I frown.

  He shrugs. "You seem more..." He struggles to find the right words. "You're less obsessed with plays and acting now. I mean, you used to be always reading and reciting scripts. When you wake up and we told you about the competition, you didn't get mad." He smiles. "Maybe it's time for you to think about your future." He leaves, and I blink, slightly confused with what he just said.