~Letters to Otou-san~

-Beginnings-

Disclaimer: I do not own Ouran High School Host club

Otou-san,

I'm not actually sure what I should be writing.

It wasn't my idea of course, to write letters.

You know me well enough to understand that.

I hope.

This was actually my care worker, Carol's idea.

Yes, that's right I got a care worker after you went otou-san.

She has short black hair, grey eyes and smiles far too much.

I don't like her, to say the least.

She told me I should write letters to you, just to express my feelings, so it's like you're still here.

To be honest, I told her I don't think it would work, but I suppose we'll have to see won't we?

But where should I start?

With mum I suppose.

Oh mum, what on earth did you do to her otou-san?

When you went, it's like mum's been replaced by an alien.

She never talks to me, and has stopped cooking me my dinner.

All she does is lock herself in her room, and tap away on her laptop 24/7.

She has started writing a serious of strangely successful tragic love stories.

All of which are far too corny and explicit for my liking.

Her once lustrous white hair is now straggly and greasy, whilst her emerald eyes have lost their sheen.

With me, I haven't really changed at all.

I cut my hair shorter, and it's started to turn white like mums.

I still have your orange eyes though, otou-san.

But I think I've put on a stone or two.

My new favourite habit is eating now, well I know I've always been fascinated with food, but I think it's upgraded to an obsession.

And now that mum doesn't cook me dinner, I have take out every night (not that I mind, though).

Your fans held a memorial for you yesterday, otou-san.

They say they miss you, but I'm pretty sure they're just gutted that your manga has now been discontinued.

I still haven't gotten around to reading your manga otou-san, 'Hime Assassin' is what it's called right? All the 50 published volumes still lye amongst the dust of our living room shelf, though.

I'm not still sure why I call you otou-san.

I mean, mum and I do live in London, but I always thought since you were Japanese it would make you feel more comfortable to call you otou-san, and I guess it just kind of stuck.

Aunty Viv came to visit yesterday.

Actually she comes to visit every day, just to make sure mum is eating and I haven't been too neglected.

I still hate her though, otou-san.

All our conversations just revolve around her making fun of my weight and my hair turning white.

She smokes in the house as well, otou-san! And she watches weird programmes on our television during the night too.

To tell the truth, sometimes after school I just don't go home.

Sometimes I wonder around the streets all night, or sleep on a park bench.

Mum doesn't notice,

Neither does aunt Viv.

But things are changing now, otou-san.

When aunt Viv came over yesterday, it wasn't to raid our fridge or hook mum up with some random man,

It was to tell us we're moving.

To Japan.

Tonight.

Truthfully Otou-san, we're in the airport right now.

We board our plane in an hour.

I don't care about leaving school,

I didn't have any friends anyway.

And aunt Viv says I'm starting at a new private school, called Ouran High School.

So the plane journey is going to be full of revising the basics of the Japanese language.

How troublesome.

Mum hasn't said anything about the move.

Not that I'm too surprised.

But what I am surprised about is that mums stupid stories made enough for me attend a private school.

But whatever.

I've never met your parents before, otou-san.

I know they live in Japan, but when I asked mum about it she frowned and didn't respond.

I start Ouran tomorrow it seems, I haven't seen the uniform yet, but I bet it's horrid.

I mean, aren't all uniforms?

Well I should go now.

I might write another letter tomorrow, but don't count on it.

See ya, otou-san.