Finally, I'm on my way home. I hope that it is all that I've dreamed about…and maybe…just maybe…he'll welcome me…

The plane landed on an early winter morning in Tokyo. Amaya opened her eyes and stretched after the long flight, eagerly peering out the window. This was the first time she had been to her home country since she was a baby, but she felt like she knew the place through the stories her mother had told her. She knew by heart the smells of green tea and cherry blossoms, the way the sun set in the evenings, and even what the bustling streets were like, thanks to the fond memories her mother had shared.

Mother…

Amaya clutched an envelope closer to her heart as she readied her bags to deboard the plane. It had been six months since her mother died, and Amaya, at seventeen, was utterly alone. That is, until she found her mother's will and the letter attached, with contents that would change her life.

Amaya had grown up in San Francisco with a single mother who insisted that she speak Japanese at home, although all of the other children spoke English. She had been forced to learn traditional martial arts, even though she wanted to do ballet. She knew how to sing traditional songs, but she had wanted to play guitar. She could paint, but only traditional flowers or nature scenes. She knew how to perform a traditional tea ceremony, properly adorn herself in a kimono, and cook all the traditional foods of Japan.

"You will thank me one day," her mother had said, "for making sure your heritage is always a part of you."

While Amaya had complained early on, she never begrudged her mother. Now, she wished more than ever that she could hold her mother's hand again and say 'thank you,' but instead she offered up a prayer.

I'll see you again some day.

Throughout her life, Amaya had known nothing about her father. The letter contained information that she had longed for, but also held disappointment. The name and whereabouts of her father, who had apparently had no contact with her mother since Amaya's birth, were finally revealed. Her father was the head of the old and prestigious Haninozuka family. With that came joy: Amaya had extended family and a living father. However, Amaya was also a bastard. With that came disappointment: she knew that no bastard would be given a place in a reputable family. But she was here, in Tokyo, and they were here, in Tokyo, so that was at least a start.

She clutched her things tightly as she got into a taxi and gave the driver an address. She was heading to the house of her mother's friend, who would provide a place for her to live while she attended school.

Two weeks prior, Amaya had received the letter that she had been waiting for: acceptance into Ouran Academy. It had been her mother's dream that she attend, and now that she was in her final year of high school she had gained acceptance as an exchange student. She had left her entire life behind to attend a school in a country she didn't know, where she had family who didn't care about her existence.

Perhaps he'll care, if I could just talk to him.

"Amaya-chan! You look so much like your mother. Please come in! Have you eaten yet? I must rush to the teahouse but I made extra food for breakfast and lunch. You look tired. Maybe you could nap today…although that Academy keeps calling asking if you've arrived yet. You'll need to pick up your uniform! They've also sent a list of other expenses and books you'll need."

The single, elderly woman with whom Amaya was staying was a close friend to her mother. Tomiju-sama owed a traditional teahouse and had employed her mother for many years. She still ran the teahouse, but from what Amaya had gathered, it was now a tourist trap that served coffee and sweets. Tomiju-sama was extremely talkative, but very sweet, and quickly made sure that Amaya was settled in. Just as quickly, she was off to the teahouse for work.

Amaya unpacked her things, carefully taking out an ornate wooden box and setting it on her bedside table. Then, she opened up her computer and checked her email, finding the details of everything she needed to do before starting at Ouran the following Monday.

"Here we go, mom," she said to the box as she began transcribing the email to a piece of paper. "Uniforms, books, supplies, classrooms, clubs to join. There's even a karate club, but it looks like it's male only…I guess they're more traditional here than home. I mean…this is home now."

She closed her eyes and tried to fight back the tears. This was home now. She quickly wiped them away and finished the list, grabbing her keys. Before walking outside and into the winter sunshine, she hesitated, and returned into the house to get a bag. She carefully placed the box inside of the bag and whispered, "I can't do this alone today." Then, she set off in the opposite direction of the school.

After walking a little over an hour and multiple checks of her map, she stood in front of a huge complex.

"Wow…" she said under her breath. "You could have at least told me about this, mama."

She stood in front of the Haninozuka estate, which looked like it covered tens to hundreds of acres of land. She walked through the front arch and was immediately greeted by two gentlemen.

"Good morning and welcome to the Haninozuka estate. What can we do for you today?" one of them asked.

"I was wondering if I could get a tour of the grounds," Amaya replied. Although all I want is to see him.

"Do you have a pass? Only verified families and friends of students are allowed."

"A…pass? I don't think so," she said hesitantly, "but I am a student at Ouran Academy, class 3A. I don't have a student ID though."

"Oh, then you must be a friend of Haninozuka-sama and Morinozuka-sama. Please, right this way."

She was confused, but didn't correct the two gentlemen, following them through a garden and to what appeared to be a dojo. So that's what they meant by students… she thought.

"Haninozuka-sama and Morinozuka-sama are both currently training, and they don't break for another hour. However, you are welcome to watch the training sessions and to view the gardens. Please, enjoy yourself."

After the two men left her, she peeked into the dojo and saw rows of men training through basics. There were two in front, a cute, short blonde haired boy and a handsome, tall dark haired boy, who seemed to be leading the rest of them.

Of course, no women here either.

Back in San Francisco, her dojo had been traditional but co-ed. Here it looked like they took things much more seriously. She watched as the smaller of the two boys in front stopped but kept giving orders. He began to walk around to check the form of the students in the back. After a command, everyone assumed the square horse position. The tall boy in front had excellent posture, she noticed, like a rock that couldn't be moved, but like a cobra, ready to strike at any moment. She looked around the room and saw that one boy didn't have his knees bent nearly far enough for a strong position. The small blonde boy saw this too and immediately shouted a command and kicked the boy's legs out from under him. Amaya smirked. She knew exactly what that was like and how embarrassing it was. It also made her itch to get back into the dojo to train.

As soon as she smirked, the tall boy in the front shifted his eyes to look at her. She made eye contact with him and froze. His gray eyes were unfathomable. His gaze penetrated deeply, as if he knew her secret: that she was foreign in her own hometown, unwelcomed by her own family. In a second that seemed like eternity, his eyes shifted back forward before the younger boy called the room to attention. Amaya took that moment to turn away and felt her eyes welling up with tears for the second time that day.

Mother… she thought sadly.

Amaya wandered around the grounds for a few more minutes, enjoying the cool air. Soon, she was lost within the compound, away from the front gates and away from the dojo. She lost track of time and stumbled upon a garden pathway that led toward what looked like a small temple. She entered the area and quickly realized where she was. It was the ground where her ancestors were buried. Haninozukas surrounded her.

Amaya wasn't religious like her mother was, but she had always been taught to respect the deceased. She knew she didn't belong. She wasn't a true member of the Haninozuka family, but their blood ran through her veins and so she knelt before them and offered a prayer, asking for acceptance and for guidance. She pulled the gilded box from her bag that contained her mother's ashes and placed it in front of her. She asked for forgiveness for her mother, and peace on both families, as tears once again sprang to her eyes. As she stood up, she heard a deep voice from behind her.

"You're not supposed to be here."

She caught her breath, surprised that she had let someone sneak up on her like that. She turned to face the owner of the voice and came face to face with the tall, handsome boy who had the ability to make her blood freeze with one glance. Upon meeting his eyes, goose bumps rose on her arms and she took it as a sign that he was right. She was indeed not welcome.

"I know," she replied softly, lifting her fingers to wipe tears from her eyes. She knelt down to gather her mother's box and her bag. As she did, the boy took the opportunity to move forward. He grabbed her arm before she could pick up the box. He must think I'm stealing, she thought. The shrine had other ornate boxes and urns around it, and he must have mistaken her mother's box for one of the Haninozuka ancestors.

On instinct she moved her arm toward the weakest point of his grip, gripping his arm instead and twisting him into a rear lock. His eyes widened slightly, surprised at her movements, but he shoved her backwards before stepping forward, pivoting, and regaining his grip on her wrist and twisting her arm. She, now with her back to him, aimed for a rear kick to the groin, but he used his other hand to block the shot before putting her into a rear bearhug with her arms pinned. Then, he lifted her off of the ground.

"That's my mother! Let me go!" she cried. She brought her head down and swung it backwards as hard as she could, smashing into the boy's nose, before kicking his shin. He loosened his grip just enough that she slipped down to the ground, but before she could go any further he was on top of her, putting a lock around her neck. She turned her head, trying to breathe, and clawed at his arm, but the pressure didn't change. She tried to get her feet under her to flip him or loosen his grip, but he was much too tall and much too strong. Black spots began to appear in her vision as she struggled to breathe. Crap! She thought. I'm going to lose mom again… She took one final glance at the box she had promised to keep safe before passing out.