Hi, thank you very for reading. This is my first fanfict ever, although I've known this page for a while now.
I would like to apologize for any grammar mistakes you may find, as English isn't my mother langue.
Disclaimer: The melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya and all its characters belongs to Nagaru Tanigawa. I own nothing but my OC's.
This being said, I hope you enjoy your reading.
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Fate can be such a curious thing, don't you think?
To some people, it's the path that has been given to us upon our birth and no matter what we do, we can't change it; to others, it's something we built for ourselves through our own actions.
To me, it's nothing but a series of coincidences. For example, the chances of being born with heterochromia is 0.006%, yet, if one of your parents has the condition, then the probabilities of being born with it are risen to 50%. So, with the right conditions, you could probably come from a family were everyone could have heterochromia, although the chances seem to be nearly equal to zero. But yet, here I am. Having one brown eye and the other blue is not a big deal, believe me. But I'm missing the point.
What I mean by this is that fate is nothing but events that take place at the right time and the right moment. To prove this, what are the chances of surviving a full car crash where nearly both parties died upon the impact? Of getting an X shaped scar on the back and memory loss as (ironically) the only reminder? Or waking up in the morgue, minutes before your own autopsy?
Hello, my name is Alexander Harlow. I'm seventeen years old and I'm from Japan.
…
…
…
I'm not kidding. Despite been named after certain ancient conqueror (my mother's doing) and having a name that could be straight from an old cowboy western movie, I was born in Japan, although I don't really consider myself Japanese.
My family history is quite, I should say, curious. My grandfather came to the country around the sixties because of his job and immediately felt in love with the culture, landscape, values, langue, history, etc…He quit his old job and began a business of his own that slowly grew until it became a successful fishing company. During one of his trips, he met my grandmother Anna. It seemed that she was as in love with the country as he, and both felt in love with each other. I was told they even had a traditional Japanese wedding...
Anyway, despite my grandparents' wishes, my father was born outside of the country during one of their visits to my grandmother's family. Yet, he inherited both of his parent's love for the Japan. Something both my grandparent's loved as nearly as the country they lived in was reading. And with love I mean obsession, for they had bought hundreds of different volumes in every language you could possible imagine, even if they didn't speak it. Naturally, my father inherited this as well but instead of several subjects, he chose specifically one: science fiction. I'm sure that if someone named any book about aliens, time travelers, espers, etc…he would have already read it all. And I don't mean just novels, no. I mean writings, essays, newspapers, anything with a mention of the subject.
Yet, my father was an incredibly smart man and a realist. He wasn't obsessed with someone's literary universe, he didn't wish to live in some different world, no; he was amazed by the possibilities of their existence and what it would mean to humanity, and thus, decided to prove scientifically such beings had existed or still did. He studied anthropology, physics and biology, anything to probe his theory. He travelled all around the world, going to different universities to work on several projects on the subject. And it was here, when he met my mother, Marceline.
She was an historian, determined to solve the mysteries of history; he, a scientist working to probe the existence of aliens, time travelers, espers…If I ever was told how they felt in love, I do not remember it anymore, just that my parents loved each other with all their hearts.
With preparations made beforehand, I was the first Harlow born in Japan. From what I can remember, life with my family was the best I could ask for. Life was good; life was amusing; life was fun; life was…worth living.
I remember being obsessed with becoming friends with aliens, time travelers, espers and solving mysteries with them. I inherited as well my family's love of reading and began doing so when I was 4 years old. I wished to live life at its fullest and my parents were happy to do so as well.
But childhood doesn't last very long and in my case, it ended when I was seven years old. I can't remember exactly how it happened, just that we were inside the car. My last memory of them is my parents singing a song from a CD my mother had just bought before everything turned into darkness.
My immediate memory is something cold under my body and a dreadful pain on my back. I immediately opened my eyes and was meet with the horrified visage of a doctor with a saw in his hands. He scram upon looking at me and ran as fast as he could.
The next succession of events was a quick one: I was found by an incredulous group of doctors. I had been declared officially dead as no pulse was found in my body the moment they recovered the bodies from the accident, until I awoke in the morgue. My grandfather immediately arrived and took me. The look on his face when I asked him about my parents' whereabouts is one I will never forget.
The funeral was concurrently attended. Friends and family arrived to bid my parents their last goodbyes. Everyone was concealed in their own pain, everyone but me. I simply stood there, watching as the coffins were slowly buried.
Something inside me had changed; something had broken. What good was left to find aliens, espers and time travelers if I couldn't tell my father he had been right? What good was left to solve mysteries if my mother wasn't there to say she was proud of me? What good was left to keep dreaming of having friends that were aliens, time travelers and espers? What good was left to continue living…in a fantasy world?
My grandparents knew something was different. Days after the funeral they found all my books on the floor and me reading an encyclopedia. My toys were left for the dust as I began to read the entire library they owned, avoiding every book about the paranormal. I no longer asked them to tell me about the myths of Japan; I no longer watched cartoons but documentaries; I no longer had the energetic spirit I did before…
In a sentence, I had grown up.
They took me to several psychiatrists but they couldn't find anything wrong with me. They all came to the same conclusion: I needed a different scenario. And thus, everything was arranged for me to study abroad in a boarding school in Canada.
With the time, I stopped thinking about anything related to my past or Japan.
I left the country my family loved so much. I left the memories I had of following and helping my father in his beloved research; of my mother teaching me how to read using one of the books she was working with; of my grandparents teaching me about the land they loved so much and considered their home…
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It was this year's Christmas Eve when my phone rang. I was in my dorm getting ready to leave for work when my uncle called me. The man I had not heard anything from after my grandmother's death said a ramble with the words "Brain tumor" "Bad" "Not much time left" "Damn old man hiding this for god knows how long…"
I took the quickest flight to Kyoto I could find. While in the airport, all the Christmas spirit around me seemed unnecessary, like a sickly sweet and disgusting candy. I took a deep breath while waiting for the plane to arrive.
'These things happen. We like it or not this is something inevitable. The best I can do is be there for him.'
How long had it been without having any contact with my family? It must have been since grandmother's death five years ago.
Despite the news I had received, my face remained calm. It had remained like that after my parent's funerals, like as if nothing could ever get to me. Yet, I couldn't stop but fell a puncture of pain on the chest when a certain song began to be played on the airport's radio:
"I'll be home for Christmas
You can plan on me
Please have snow and mistletoe
And presents on the tree"
After what seemed to be an eternity, the plane finally arrived. I took my place next to the window and closed my eyes, wishing to get the sleep I been missing ever since finals started.
But I couldn't.
My uncle's words echoed in my mind. "Brain tumor" "Bad" "Not much time left". I should have called more. I should have been in contact with them all, after all, I owned everything to them.
But I didn't.
"Christmas Eve will find me
Where the love light gleams
I'll be home for Christmas
If only in my dreams"
As soon as I stepped out of the plane, I moved as quickly as I could, hurrying to be done with airport security and migration. But before I left, it happened what I had expected:
"Mister, we need to ask you a few questions"
I sighted. It was the same; the dumb thing that happened every time I came to Japan. Because of my olive toned skin and blonde hair, the migration agents always thought my passport was fake. And so, I prepared to be interrogated for the next half hour. I just wish English accent won't pass to my Japanese…
"I'll be home for Christmas
You can plan on me
Please have snow and mistletoe
And presents on the tree"
After some awfully slow minutes, I left the airport and headed into the nearest taxi.
"To the general hospital, please"
The streets quickly passed in front of me, old and new buildings surrounding me. I remember grandfather always had a fascination for this place. As we traversed the city, some of his words arrived to my mind:
"When I die I wish to be buried in Kyoto…"
Christmas Eve will find me
Where the love light gleams
I'll be home for Christmas
If only in my dreams
If only in my dreams…
"There was nothing we could do. The tumor was too big for being extracted. I'm sorry but…he's dead."
If the man in front of me wished to see a reaction on my face caused by his words, I'm afraid he was disappointed. I stood there, my face as expressionless as always. The doctor in front of me seemed to be truly conflicted, more than beyond duty. Was grandfather friends with this man? It wouldn't surprise me that he was.
"May I see him?" I asked.
"I…Of course"
We entered the room. The image I had of grandfather was one entirely different from that of the man in front of me. I remembered a man to whom age was only a number, who wished to live life at its fullest. He had always been in shape, and from the memories I had, he never got sick. I believe the thing I remembered the most about him was his long white mane. This and his smile would sometimes make you believe he was some sort of wolf in human shape.
This was the image of him that I kept in my mind, unchanged by that of the body he once habited.
'At least he's free from more pain' I thought.
The doctor beside me coughed. I looked at him and found his visage at the verge of tears.
"H-He is…was a good man. One of the best I've ever met." His hand went inside his coat and pulled an envelope. "He asked me to give you this."
I thanked the doctor and took the letter, which had my name on it, and left the room. Grandfather was no longer on this world and there was no need for me to remain there.
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There were many people at the funeral. I believe more than two hundred people attended. I didn't know grandfather knew this many people. As always, I simply stood there, emotionless, and watched as the coffin was being buried, next to grandmother according to his instructions. I waited there until the last group of people left and began walking through the city, no destination on my mind.
I stopped at a café and while I waited for my drink to arrive, I pulled out the letter and reread it for the tenth time:
"My dear Alex:
Thank you for being the best grandson I could ever wish for. I am and will always be proud of you. Please forgive for not telling you about my disease but this is something I had to carry on my own and I didn't wish you or anyone else sharing this burden.
I'll be gone from this land by the time you read this letter, but I must ask you one last favor: to study at least your high school education here in Japan.
I understand this is not an easy petition and I understand should you wish not to do so, but please consider that this is your homeland. What I have learnt during the time I've lived here is something that has served me as a guide my entire life. And I want my last gift for you to serve you throughout yours.
I have made preparations for you to arrive to the town I did the first time I came to this beautiful land: Nishinomiya. I don't know if you remember but it's there where you were born and where you, your parents, your grandmother and I, lived. I believe it's only appropriate for you to return there to study. There's a school in particular there, "North High", and although it's not renowned for academic advancement, there something there. Your father would call it a "mysticism".
Know that no matter what you choose to do, I will always be proud of you.
With all my love:
Your grandfather Fenris."
I sighted as I left the letter on the table. I really had no option, didn't I?
North High…I swear I've heard that name before…
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Grandfather's will was read in an utter hurried fashion, no doubt because of my uncle. We were reunited in the family's estate in Nishinomiya: my uncle, grandfather's lawyer and I.
The building had taken me by surprise, because of my loss of memories, for I had not expected the western mansion we arrived to. I had always thought grandfather lived in a building that had more to do with the country we were in. But it was only the exterior with this stile, as the interior was entirely oriental.
After my initial surprise, we went inside grandfather's study to read his will. The document declared I was to receive 70,000 yens monthly until I finished college, with 100,000 being immediately given for me to find a place to live on my own. My father's adoptive brother was to inherit the family's company, something I did not care a single bit of. The family estate despite my uncle's protests, was to remain vacant until I finished my education, should I wish to conserve it, otherwise, it would be sold and the money being given to charity. In the meantime, it would receive maintenance weekly through a company grandfather had arranged a deal with. Everything in the interior would be donated as well, after my uncle and I chose what we wished to conserve.
While the man barked at the lawyer for not receiving the family's estate, I stood there and thanked my family for all they had always done for me.
I began to walk through the house, being told by the lawyer to choose what I wanted to keep. Nothing had called my attention for all I had seen seemed unpractical to take to a much smaller place. It was then, after going up some oddly designed stairs, I appeared in front of a wooden door with a plaque on its center, with the words "ALEX" carved on it. I opened it and was met by a giant wooden room, with empty shelves everywhere, and filled with dozens of boxes with different sizes, all of them sealed with tape. One of them specially got my attention, for it had a written piece of paper on top of it.
"Alex: please take these boxes to the place you'll live. Please do not open them until you start attending North High."
Really? So grandfather was sure I was going to attend North High. Funny.
I sighted and put the note back on top of the box. I was leaving the room when I saw something hiding in the corner. It was a guitar, an electroacoustic guitar being more specific. The moment it went into my gaze I had a sudden headache.
…
"This is Do. This is Re. This is Mi, Fa, Sol, La and Si. Do you understand, Alex?" Says the man with the guitar on his hands.
"Yes, grandpa! Is it my turn now?! Please!? Please!? Please!?" I answer.
"Of course! Why do you think I bought it?"
…
That was…interesting, to say the least. So that's how it feels to have a flashback and I apparently know how to play a guitar. As I said, interesting.
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A funny thing I didn't know: in Japan, school begins in April. And today was January 21th. Which means that I had more than two months before attending school. Ah, another funny thing: it doesn't matter I already passed one semester, it means nothing here, which means I'll be seeing the same things for a while.
Like I said, "Funny".
At least I had found a nice place to live. It was relatively close to North High, so it would only take me about twenty minutes to arrive to school, even more quick should I buy a bicycle. It was good. It was in a relatively nice location and the apartment was bigger than my dorm in Canada, so I had that going for me, which was nice. The rent was cheap too, only 35,000 yens per month, well, with an initial deposit of 25,000 as well. The apartment was already furnished as well. It had two rooms, well, one if you consider that dozens of boxes are stacked inside one of them. Boxes that I was not supposed to open until I start to attend North High, as I already said, in two months.
So here I am, sitting on the couch in my living room/kitchen. Exactly what I am supposed to do for two months? I suppose I should familiarize myself with the town. But there will be still too much time left.
I sighted and left my head fall back. I saw then the electroacoustic guitar I had brought from grandfather's house and had an idea.
Like they say "A lesson well learned is never forgotten".
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Here I am, after two months, in North High. The hill climbing part to get here was rather…exhausting, although I'm glad I didn't buy that bicycle.
The moment I went inside class, I was met with several groups of people happily talking with each other, like if they knew each other for a time.
'So, it seems I'm in a classroom where everyone comes from the same middle school' I sighted. I've always have some trouble to make friends with people, much more when they already had groups of friends.
I simply took a seat and waited for the class to start, resting my head on the table.
The sensei arrived and shortly, one by one, every student began to say their names, the school they came from and what they expected from the course.
It had been the same every-single-time. It seems I was correct about most of them coming from East Middle School. I had stopped paying attention until the girl behind me rose from her seat.
"From East Middle School. Haruhi Suzumiya. I have no interest in ordinary humans. If there are any aliens, time travelers, sliders or espers here…come join me"
"…"
"…"
"…"
Was she being serious?
The whole class was speechless, even the sensei. My eyes had widened upon listening to her last words. Aliens, time travelers and espers…How long have I tried to evade those subjects? And she sounded deadly serious about wanting them to join her.
The way she spoke reminded me of father.
Grandfather, where have you gotten myself into?
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Thanks for reading. I know it's slow but this was just the first chapter and I needed to introduce Alex. I have several ideas I want to try and I think they will be interesting with the way the series' universe works.
Your reviews will be mostly appreciated and I would like to hear your suggestions if you have any.
Anyways, thank you again from reading and see you in the next chapter.
Have a nice day.