Notes from the Computer Desk:

Well, here it is, the first fanfiction I have managed to start. Reviews and critiques will be much appreciated, although rotten tomatoes must be sent by air mail. Also, if you, my reader are unfamiliar with the Pretender universe, it was quite a good TV series. I would reccomend it to anyone who likes mysteries, pop culture references and evil corporations.

Apology # 1: I'm writing this first chapter at least with WordPad, so my spelling may suffer in some areas.

Apology # 2: Don't expect the caste of Fate until chapter 3, I want to give you the introduction to just who Morgan Winters is, and why he winds up in Fuyuki

Apology #3: I'm going to be having an eventual SaberXMorgan pairing, so Shirou will find love in other places.

DISCLAIMER: The author is not fond of disclaimers, so this will be the only one. the Fate project is the property of Type-Moon. The Pretender is the property of MTM enterprises. As I do not own stock in either, I don't own either. Only the events and original characters within are mine.

And so, without further ado... "cue dramatic music." HideakiTarantino Pre...Waitaminute "goes and yells at someone who put on Kevin Federline" "ACTUALLY PUTS ON THE DRAMATIC MUSIC"... Ok, HideakiTarantino Presents, Full Circle, the first fanfiction he finished a chapter of!!! Oh yeah, anything italicized is either thought, or spoken Japanese.

Chapter 1: Departure.

By all appearances, Richard Gibson was the ideal guest. Polite, reserved and helpful, he had told those who asked him that he was a student attending a prestigeous private high school back in the United States, and he was here in Japan as part of an exchange program which was set to begin in May. Kojiro and Yui Kobayashi, the couple who owned the Starlight Inn, where Richard had stayed the better part of a month, had seen much that backed his story up, and believed evey word he said about his origins and intentions. For this honesty they returned the kindness he had shown them, just as they had for many other guests. So it troubled Richard Gibson to think that everything he had told them was a well-crafted lie.

The only Richard Gibson in Japan at that time was an 82 year old veteran who was paying his respects to Hiroshima and Nagasaki, both nowhere near the small, semi-bohemian village where the Starlight Inn stood. In reality, the 16 year old staying at the Kobayashi's inn was named Morgan Winters, and he could not remember anything before the date of July 9, 2003, when he had woken up in a hotel room in Taos, completely unawhere of where he was. Morgan mulled this over as he sat behind the small waterfall that rested in the second of the Kobayashi's two gardens.

And given that all I have to go on is a photograph of two people I don't recognize, and a hastily writen note on the back of that photo telling me the photo was taken in Fuyuki City, my memorty isn't likely to be retrieved, even if if comes dancing into my room in the middle of the night, accompanied by a full symphony, Metallica, Hugo Chavez and the Queen of England all screaming, "Behold, it's your memory!"

Morgan pushed the discouraging thought out of his head, staring into the water in front of him, his attention now turned to a more pressing matter, that of an aspect of his imminent departure from the Starlight Inn. His bill would be no problem, despite the fact that he never kept more than a few thousand yen on himself at any time, one afternoon with his Apple had seen that Rupert Murdoch would generously cover his entire month long stay, plus a sizeable tip. Nor would his clothing, even though he had every intention of giving most of it to a Goodwill drop point.

No, the issue plauging Morgan Winters' mind was what he should tell the Kobayashis. They had been his friends for the entirity of his stay, and so simply vanishing in the middle of the night without any trace at all was out of the question. And at the same time, he was not going to tell them that there was no Richard Gibson, and that he was really an amnesiac 16 year old hunting his past through an old photograph and massive ammounts of cash stolen from Rupert Murdoch. In the end, he elected to do what he had done for so many others since that day. He told them he was leaving, and where he intended to go.

"You're positive we can't convince you to stay longer? You'll be missed here Gibson-Kun." Yui brought this up as Kojiro passed the rice around the table.

"Sadly, my mind is made up, I only have one more month before my program begins, and I would like to see as much of the country as I can in that time."

"Well, you will always be welcome back here." Kojiro nodded quietly as he said this, knowing that nothing, not even his best recipies could convince Richard Gibson to stay any longer. There were stories told, jokes exchanged and some consumed a rather large amount of sake. Thus, it was surprisingly easy for Morgan Winters to slip out of the inn the next morning, leaving only a check on his desk. He walked along the streets of the town, passing stores selling all variety of things, and paused only to drop a large bag outside of the Amnesty International building. He then sat outside the train station for what seemed to be an hour, reading the paper. Finally finding the train times that day, Morgan located the one he wanted.

Well, it's decided then. At 8:45, I begin my search of Fuyuki City.