AN: Laughs. Bored. But this shouldn't even be considered a 'Prologue'. Just a short chapter leading to a slow start!
Disclaimer: I don't own Ouran High School Host Club.
"So, Japan," Yuusuke pipes up. "A little different, but nonetheless, hopefully you'll be at home here?"
Su Tong remains silent, fingers still firmly wedged in a crisscross formation, resting on her lap. Her father turns back to look at her, slowly pushing the key into the engine slot. He sighs, and turns back to face the bustling carpark. Breathing out slowly, she considers her words, and decides that it is useless after all, and that her vocabulary is hopelessly limited anyway.
"You'll be starting school in two days, won't you? Your mother- and I are very proud."
Su Tong nods, and her father's eyes shift to look- to reaffirm that bare sign of recognition in the rearview mirror. He turns expectant, and chattier through the ride, despite her disinterest.
While he murmurs scattered bouts of 'oh, we'll have to get a new bed' and 'I hope you'll meet more friends', she examines him. This person is different from the father she found in stashed-away photographs. He has pink hair, for one, and can barely contain his excitement. Her father was simpler; he was a figure of reminiscence for her mother, and bedtime stories for her.
'What was Pa like,' she used to say, tracing the dryness of her mother's lips.
'Dashing, and very quiet and we loved each other a lot,' her mother would reply, enveloping her daughter's smaller fingers within her own. 'Like you.'
'Oh.' She would watch as her mother tucked her in, before placing a soft kiss on her forehead. 'Then why did he leave?'
Her mother paused- in that memory, and what she said next was forgotten, or perhaps translated too many times to fit her own whims and theories about her absent father. Perhaps he left because he got tired of her mother's fading beauty; and in another world he left because China could never be home to him; or- he planned to return, but ended up forgetting.
Su Tong chuckles at the improbability of that last theory. But now, faced with him, she can't find it in herself to put it past him.
That yellow dress is hideous. But she will not trouble her father any more than necessary. Instead, she plays the role of a quiet, demure and obedient daughter, accepting the uniform and going off to school. For a dress this excessive and flamboyantly ugly, it's a surprise it's worth so much.
It's a waste, she thinks, but can't find it in herself to be angry at the man- not when he looks at her with so much pride and wistfulness when she bids him goodbye before going to school. Instead, she summons all of her courage and walks into school, heading straight for the main office to get to her class.
There is another student there, though he isn't in uniform. She sits next to him and waits patiently for the counter to be free. He looks up from his hands, and squints at her. In response, she ignores him, and stares straight at the wall opposite her.
"Hello- you're not from around here, are you?"
Su Tong barely registers the voice, soft and feminine. It takes her a moment to realize that the boy next to her is speaking. She considers the situation, and decides on nodding.
"Ah, I'm sorry for being rude." A pause. "I'm Fujioka Haruhi."
"Su Tong," she manages a reply, and a slight smile.
The boy tries to decipher her name, and manages a garbled, "Shyuu Ton?"
Su Tong can only nod once, praying that that was the last of their interaction. Standing up, she moves towards the counter, muttering a few words and receiving a map of the school. Walking away briskly, she left the boy- Haruhi- seated, staring confusedly after her.
Class 3F is undoubtedly a class for transfers and dropouts. Her introduction is a hasty two-second stage time, before three long hours of boring lessons in rapid Japanese. She can barely catch up, but at least the teachers are only repeating whatever's on the textbooks. She'll have time to peruse them during break.
Fortunately, the people don't bother her- much. Their indifference is almost a gift, and makes up for her natural silence. She catches a few phrases in between English and Arithmetic, and realizes that they are talking about her; 'Made in China', 'Chinese kid', and another one that oddly sounds like 'rat'. In the end, she decides that this sort of eavesdropping is useless, and does what she does best: she ignores them all.
The second, third and fourth day pass by all the same, though her ability to understand her teachers' shotgun Japanese has improved a lot. On the afternoon of her fourth day in this pink (and frivolous) hell, however, she notes something almost interesting. A girl, dressed in the male uniform, is picking up various objects from the small fountain. Cross-dressing, she thinks, or a boy. But the person's gender and actions are none of her business.
The person looks up to see her, and Su Tong starts, before determinedly walking away, hurried and frazzled- almost guiltily. Surprisingly, no one calls for her, and she quickens her pace. The silence is broken by her shallow breaths and the tolling of a bell.
After marching away from the scene (and marching quite a considerable distance, too), she slows down, only to murmur to herself, "Shyuu Ton."
Chuckling at that, she stops in her tracks. "What was his name again…?"
And then, slightly happily, "Shyuu Ton."