"What?" I asked. "Well, then, 'Sachiko' is a nice name. Or what about 'Haruko'? Named after 'Haruhi'?"
"No! It has to be Sakura! What other name conjures up images of the beautiful heroine, saving the world with her mystical powers, powers which were inherited from the goddess of the distant star XB8950, Kaliputika! I want her to be the best! The Best! It has to be Sakura! Sakura! Write it down! Now! Sakura!"
Well, I didn't think so, but whatever. As if I have any control over what these characters are named. Anyways, Review, Comments, Criticism, all well appreciated!
One day, like any other day, I came home from work to find my beautiful Sakura jumping up and down as I entered the tiny space called 'home' where the three of us lived our everyday lives. Sakura, my beloved one, I remember when she was just born, her gentle hands softly grabbing my fingertips as she cooed,... not anymore, now that she's grown.
"Daddy! Daddy! I learned something in English class! Happy birthday to you..." she began to sing, badly, in an unrecognizable English, probably intending to do so for the rest of the night. Fortunately, or perhaps not so fortunately, she was interrupted by a familiar sound,...
"If you sing too much you'll wreck your vocal chords!"
Ah, the sound of Haruhi's piercing, shouting voice, overpowering all my senses. It would drive any sane man insane, believe me, having to live with such a person. (It would then follow that I have likely lost all my sanity, living here. Which is probably true.)
"Haruhi, what's for dinner?" I asked, as any good husband should ask, and usually asks, their loving wife.
"Nothing," she smiled, leaning forwards to stare at me. "I burned it all, heh."
Ah. This is my wife, the abominable cook. I could have married any pretty, normal Japanese girl who would've made me happy, or at least have be able to cook, but, no, I married the woman who controls the universe with the powers of God. God hates me, I'm sure.
"Daddy, Daddy!"
Yes, my sweet, beautiful, hopefully normal Japanese daughter.
"Can we go out to eat? Mommy burned the oden (Impossible! Or so I thought), and now there's nothing to eat, and the kitchen smells bad."
I sighed. At least it wasn't every day.
"Alright," I said, finally. "We'll go for ramen."
...Honestly, I must have passed out after that, because I hardly remember walking to the ramen shop, eating, and walking back, all the while being nagged by Haruhi. In fact, I would believe any stranger if he said that he saw me walk into the ramen shop and do nothing but sit the entire time, since I didn't even feel full after the meal. However, my wallet did feel lighter.
We eventually arrived home again, regardless of what had actually happened, where Sakura decided to fulfill her promise of showing us her part in a play her homeroom class was doing for the culture festival. It involved magicians, I think. My pretty Sakura was playing the journeying maiden who meets all the strange and mystifying creatures on her way to the castle, where she finds out that she's the next queen of the land. A major role. I was a very proud father. However, watching a single actress recite through a play that involved a much higher number of other characters was a bit boring and I eventually fell asleep.
I woke up to the scent of Haruhi's shampoo, her face very close to mine, ... observing me? Her angry eyes locked straight onto my eyes, as if trying to drill into my brain with their intensity.
"You're awake," she said. "How could you fall asleep during my precious daughter's play?!"
Ah, they were painful, her fists. She didn't stop until I was well bruised. I thought then that I finally knew what if felt like to be the pillows on our bed that Haruhi regularly throw and punch in her sleep, leaving me without a good cushion for my tired head every night. I was forever in awe of her energy, moving furniture, pulverizing vegetables, throwing my daughter into the air, after witnessing her many sleep-depraved nights in bed, tired, but fighting hard to get to sleep.
"I've sent Sakura to bed," Haruhi said, after she had stopped. "Go tuck her in."
So, forever the good husband, I obeyed my wife's commands and went up to Sakura's room to tuck my princess in. Being the sensible girl that she was, she had already tucked herself in. I only had to give her a small kiss on the forehead and turn off the light.
"Daddy, are you tired?" she asked, on my way out.
"Yes, princess. Daddy's had a long day."
"Can you tell me a story? Just a short one."
How could any loving father ignore such a sweet child? I sat down beside her, turning the light on again.
"What kind of story would you like to hear?" I said, suddenly feeling very old.
"Anything, Daddy."
I had no idea what kind of story to tell. Seriously, I never know what to do in these kind of situations. Some people are made to be natural fathers, but I am definitely not one of them. As a result, I took several seconds to stare at her, and stare at her, and stare, and stare,...
I finally asked her, "Do you believe in aliens?"
"No," she replied, almost immediately, very determined about it.
"Why not?" I asked, a bit surprised. Who knew that Haruhi could have given birth to such a normal kid? I expected that Haruhi would have absolutely persuaded her daughter that aliens exist.
"Because if there were aliens, then you would absolutely, definitely be an alien. Mommy always said that she would have married an alien, and you're definitely not an alien."
Such a smart kid.
"Why don't you think I'm an alien?" I asked her.
"Because your eyes aren't red." As if I didn't know.
"Well, aliens don't need to have red eyes to be aliens," I said, a story beginning to form in my head. "I met an alien once, and her eyes weren't red at all..."
I went back into the living room, finding a sad-looking Haruhi staring out our only window down into the empty street outside.
"You two seemed like you were having a lot of fun."
I suppose she had heard the two of us laughing together. Not really knowing how to respond, I sat back down on the couch, exhausted.
"Ah! Isn't she intelligent, and so adorable?" Haruhi looked proudly across the room towards Sakura's bedroom.
"She's definitely growing up fast," I said.
Haruhi was looking at me again. Slowly, she came towards me, sitting down beside me. Her head was leaning on my arm, her legs curled up on the couch, reminding me of the Haruhi from when we were first married, when we were both a little lost, a little nervous, not really knowing what to do. They were certainly strange days, when we first started living together. We sat like this for a while, my arm slowly growing numb under her weight.
"Are you asleep?" she asked, after a long time.
"No, not yet. I would be if you weren't leaning on my arm like that."
She didn't move.
"Kyon-kun, do you love me?"
What kind of question was that? "Of course I love Haruhi," I replied.
"Hmm."
What? The silence was making me nervous. It wasn't very often that Haruhi became so quiet, and something bad usually happened whenever she does. Add to all that the fact that I could no longer feel my arm.
"Well, let's get to bed," she said after a while, getting up and dragging me up from the couch. "You must be tired." My arm exploded in the sudden movement. Then, slowly, it started to feel normal again.
I followed her into our room and watched as she turned on the light. Impulsively, I shut the door, and turned the light back off.
"Haruhi, you're the only woman I'll ever love," I said, kissing her in the darkness, hoping desperately to cheer her up again.
"Of course I know that, Kyon-baka," she scoffed, pushing me away and turning the light back on.
The two of us took our turns with the washroom.
"Why don't you go have an affair or something exciting like that?" she asked me, her mouth full of toothpaste.
"But that would mean I didn't love you," I responded, laughing a little. It wasn't the first time she had asked me.
"Hmm," she said again, mouth still full of toothpaste. She spat it out and rinsed her mouth a bit.
"Kyon-kun, I love you."
"I hope so," I said. But the way she was looking at me, never before had I wished that I could be an alien...for her.