Fucking Australia. I can't write gay fanfiction without a giantass Huntsman appearing right beside my bed. I tried to make friends with him but he was like 'noooo ew human, get away from me' so he had to be neutralized. I try and be the fucking spider whisperer and shit but spiders just don't want to play nice.

"What are you writing?"

"My suicide note."

So boring. I want to go home. Wait, there is no home anymore.

I hope there aren't any psycho's locked up in here.

But you're a psycho...

Shut up.

"Mr. Kururugi, could you slide your left hand under the glass for me?"

No please?

The metal was cool against the palm of my hand as I snaked it under the glass that was separating me from an elderly lady.

"You are not to take this bracelet off under any circumstance do you understand me, Mr. Kururugi?"

"Whatever..."

I retracted my hand the moment the plastic bracelet clicked into place, inspecting the black, slanted writing on it.

'Patient Suzaku Kururugi: Highly Unstable. To be watched at all times.'

I would have laughed had the situation been funnier. 'Highly Unstable', 'To be watched at all times.' Sounded like something out of a fucking box office movie, starring an angsty teen that was struggling through life. Who evidently ended up in a mental institution because he was screwed in the head due to the fact his father touched him as a child.

My father might not have touched me as a child but I could safely say I was screwed in the head.

"Mr. Kururugi come this way please," a man in really stereotypical male nurse clothes, insisted.

I shrugged, following the man through a labyrinth of corridors and rooms. "Mr. Kururugi, you'll been in the teen wing of this particular ward and are not to leave there unless given express permission, got it?"

"Alright," I replied.

Why did they keep asking if I understood? I might be crazy but I wasn't brain dead.

"Now..."

Blah blah blah. Rules, rules, rules. As if I cared. I felt free. I may be inside an institution but I was free.

But was your freedom worth it's price?

Do be quiet; I'm trying to enjoy my time in the nut house.

Whatever you say...

"Well, Mr. Kururugi, you're just in time for dinner, allow me to show you where the food hall is."

Taking in the scene before me I sighed dejectedly. Well this was fucking boring. Where were all the crazy's rocking back in forth in the corner? And the downright creepy looking patients? What a disappointment. This was just a conglomeration of fucked up looking brats.

I retrieved my dinner tray of mashed potatoes, vegetables and some form of roast chicken before seating myself on and unoccupied table. The meal was simultaneously too salty and too bland. Did the people who make these things ever bother to taste them?

When I was finished I was escorted to my room. They were gracious enough to not make me share however that probably had to do more with the fact they were worried I'd suffocate my roommate in their sleep rather than privacy. Hah, all the other patients seemed dreadfully dull anyway and I'd take no pleasure in killing a single one of them.

"M-My name's Rollo and I...I...I..."

"It's okay Rollo, if you don't want to talk about it I won't push you," Cecile, the group therapist soothed. "Kallen? Are you prepared to discuss how you handled that situation with those group of people wrong?"

"What do you want me to say? That what I did was wrong? That I have 'unresolved anger issues." They fucking deserved it. They deserved getting the shit beaten out of them," Kallen replied aggressively.

"Kallen, there will be no swearing in this group," Cecile said firmly.

The fiery red-head proceeded to scowl and slouch back in her seat, angrily tapping her foot against the tiled floor. Wow. What a stress head. I hoped I didn't get on her bad side. Then again, she shouldn't be getting on my bad side either.

"Shirley, would you like to share anything with the group?"

A rather skittish looking girl jolted to attention, staring wide eyed at the group therapist before her eyes began darting around, searching for another girl named Shirley. When none suddenly jumped out from behind a pot plant she turned her attention back to Cecile. "No. Definitely not. I have nothing to share. Let's move on."

Cecile sighed. She wasn't having much luck today. Perhaps the presence of a new person disrupted the group...speaking of the new person. "Suzaku, we haven't heard a word from you yet. What brings you here?"

Way to sound like this was some casual get together as opposed to a crazy session in the psych ward. "Well I killed someone. Then I was diagnosed as crazy and I ended up being sent here to be 'fixed'."

On the surface Cecile seemed calm about what I had just disclosed but somehow I could tell I'd gotten under her skin. She knew I was dangerous now. They all did. Good, I'd prefer it that way. I surveyed the group, drinking in their expressions, shock, horror, anger...boredom? How dare someone be bored whilst I told them of my misdeed.

That bored expression was settled on the face of a lithe male, wearing a turtle neck and black jeans. Actually, he didn't just appear to be bored with my divulgence, he appeared to bored with everything. At least it wasn't personal.

Apparently my observations of the ebony haired guy had given the therapist enough time to gather her thoughts, "Well, I suppose this is a rather obvious question but...who did you kill?"

"My father."

She quickly jotted something down in the file she had balanced precariously on her crossed legs. If she wrote 'father issues' under my name I'd literally kill her.

Killing isn't the solution to everything.

If I try hard enough it bloody well could be.

"What lead you to committing this crime?" Cecile questioned.

I rocked back in my chair. I didn't really feel like answering anything else so I simply wouldn't. Not unless my mood changed, so I then ignored her for the rest of the session as I half listened in to her unhelpful attempts to get people to discuss what was troubling them. At one point I did pay particular attention when the dark haired guy -Lelouch was apparently his name- opened his mouth and politely declined discussing what was ailing him.

I was starting to get interested in this person called 'Lelouch' after observing him for several days. He associated well with others when the situation called for it yet he was constantly alone. He handled the turbulent Kallen when she was unmanageable; he coaxed Shirley out of her shell and appeared to be the only one Rollo even bothered to talk to. Lelouch was always writing in this damn little black journal...and wearing turtle necks. But that was more of a fashion choice than anything. He was just one big mystery.

One day I was feeling rather adventurous so I approached him during free time, intent upon unravelling the mystery.

"What are you writing?"

The side of his lip quirked up a little. Not exactly a smile, more of an amused smirk. "Maybe someday I'll tell you."

He closed the diary, lightly placing his pen on the table. How irksome. He was pretty cocky for a man in the nut house.

"And what exactly have I done to gain your attention Suzaku Kururugi?" Lelouch questioned.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," I rebutted.

"Come now, Kururugi, let's not play dumb. I've noticed you studying me, I'm not blind."

"I don't ever remember sharing my last name with you, I would like to enquire how you know it."

The smirk on his face grew wider. "How could I not recognize you? Suzaku Kururugi, the Prime Minister's son. I've seen you from afar before, at parties and such but have never had the pleasure of meeting you properly."

Parties? Like my father parties? Where he would take me out parade me around prior to locking me back in my room? Or was he talking about ones away from home? The ones where I had to look extra nice and behave even better? Either way I didn't ever remember seeing Lelouch at any of these.

"What did you say your name was again?" I asked politely.

"Lelouch Vi Britannia."

Oh fuck no. This might one of the most well-renowned, expensive psychiatric wards there is but there is just no way in hell the son of the one of the richest men in the world would be here.

"Kururugi don't be overly dramatic, that man's offspring aren't that unusual, there's already ten of us out there," Lelouch mentioned, tapping his fingers lightly on the table, as if this entire exchange was taxing.

"I am not being 'overly dramatic'," I scoffed.

It was natural to be a bit taken aback by all this. It wasn't everyday you met a rich bastard who held himself in high regard for a legitimate reason, Lelouch's reason being the overwhelming amount of money he possessed. Come to think of it no wonder his father was filthy rich, to raise ten kids would be damn expensive and from the looks of it Lelouch only accepted luxury.

"You've caused quite a scandal, Suzaku Kururugi. What? Did daddy not love you enough?" Lelouch said with a humourless chuckle.

"No," I replied with a dark smile.

That shut him up. Well, at least for the next ten seconds.

"Well as interesting as this has been I'm afraid it's high time I collected my meds. Goodbye Kururugi."

"Goodbye Lelouch."

So yeah. First chapter over. How about that? Maybe you should like...review or something. That would be nice. Also I know it's short. But the shorter it is the faster the chapters will be written.