Chapter One
Wow, they're really late.
Blearily, I reach for my phone, poking it into starting up. It flashes back at me, displaying the time, 4:52AM. There are no notifications on the screen, no missed calls.
With a sigh I close it, throwing a hand over my eyes. The airport's lights are much too harsh on my eyes and after a gruelling flight from the States all I can feel is the impending headache. I wasn't able to sleep a wink on the flight but I can't sleep now either, I'm much too wired for that.
Briefly I wonder what I must appear like to the other patrons at the airport. Even though it's insanely early there are tons of people running around in vacation clothes or carrying briefcases in business suits. Meanwhile, I am sitting on a bench beside the gate to terminal four with two big-ass suitcases beside me.
It's been almost an hour already, and all I want to do is curl up on a bed and sleep. But noo, my ride's late. What a joke. Who hired them again?
Stupid exchange program. Stupid Japan. Stupid, stupid early flights—
"Excuse me?"
I jump, my mind pulled out of the exhausted daze I'd fallen in, head jerking up abruptly. Wow, I really am out of it today.
"Um," I say in reply, squinting at the other. They look vaguely familiar, but then, I'm not exactly in a sound state of mind right now. "Hi?"
It occurs to me that perhaps I shouldn't be talking to strangers, but they approached me, not the other way around.
The auburn haired man exhales uncertainly. "Sorry, I must have startled you. Are you—" he frowns at the list in his hand and sounds out in spotty english, "'Alex Parker'?"
His accent makes my name sound a little strange—it takes me a few seconds to realize he's talking about me.
"Oh. Yeah. That's—that's me," I respond clumsily. What a paragon of eloquence and oratory skills, I am.
"Right." The stranger clears his throat and offers me a smile. "It's nice to meet you again, Parker-san. I'm Fujioka Ryoji, we met a few months ago at the orientation for transfer and scholarship students. Do you still remember me?"
Uh. Vaguely, yeah, but I'm also tired enough to mistake the fountain beside me for a bed, so who really knows at this point. He seems to know what he's doing, so probably?
"Yeah, I do," I tell him.
"Great!" Fujioka brightens. "I'm sorry for being late, there were some heavy delays on the highway from a collision. We can leave now."
Oh, thank the lord. I stand up and grab my suitcase—Fujioka takes the other and leads the way through the airport.
"Thanks for agreeing to house me," I tell him when the silence grows awkward.
Fujioka smiles. "Don't worry about it. Haruhi agreed to participate in the foreign exchange program so it's really no trouble. Our house might be a bit smaller than you're used to though."
"As long as it has a bed and a working shower I'll be fine," I reassure him. He laughs good naturedly, but to be honest I was completely serious when I said that. Heck, I'd be willing to sleep in a shack as long as it meant I could sleep. Not that I thought the Fujiokas lived in a shack. I might be the daughter of two very wealthy CEOs, but I wasn't nearly as sheltered as many others in my position were. I had my fair share of interaction with
"So, Parker-san," and man I don't think I'm ever going to get used to how weird my name sounds with an honorific attached, "How's America?"
"Uh," what kind of question is that? I search my mind for an answer. "It's fun, I guess. I don't know. Why?"
"Haruhi's interested in studying there," Fujioka answers. We exit the airport and the cold air is enough to clear a little of the fog from my mind, but also leaving me shivering. Fujioka squints into the night, and just his chin out to the left.
"My car is that way," he says.
I trail after him, pulling my suitcase behind me. We stop in front of his car, a decently sized SUV. Fujioka pulls out his keys and opens the trunk, which has enough space to fit one suitcase in.
"Hm," Fujioka frowns. "Parker-san, place your other suitcase in the back seats. You can ride shotgun."
I nod and open up the back seats. It takes me a few seconds before I manage to maneuver my suitcase onto the seats (do you know how heavy this thing is? I packed everything, I'm not about to leave stuff behind for a year) and then I shut the door.
Fujioka joins me at the front of the car a few minutes later. "Wrong side of the car," he says in amusement. "Unless you're planning on driving."
Right, Japan drove the opposite direction. They drove on the left instead of the right. I feel my cheeks heat up and quickly dart to the opposite side, Fujioka chuckling good naturedly.
Once we get that sorted out, I buckle myself in. Fujioka ignites the car engine and turns the radio on. Some japanese pop station immediately starts playing and the other man sings under his breath as he backs out of the parking lot.
I try to stay awake, glancing outside at the dark sky, but it's futile. My eyelids are already beginning to droop, now that I didn't need to force myself awake, and the car's movement is rather soothing. I catch myself falling asleep several times before jolting awake, and each time it takes me longer to recognize when I closed my eyes.
"…ow, Parker-san," Fujioka says something but I only catch the end of his sentence.
I force my eyelids open and glance at him sleepily. "Sorry, what?"
"You can sleep for now, it'll take a few hours before we get home. I'll wake you up when we do," Fujioka says.
"Thanks," I mumble, and I can already feel myself falling asleep again.
I curl up against the window, closing my eyes. Within seconds I'm out like a light.
-:-
Four years before I left for Ouran, Hannah and I were hanging out in the library of our mansion.
It was a nice day and sunlight streamed in through the large windows, bathing the room in a warm light. The smell of old books filled the air as Hannah and I lay on the carpeted floor. If Mom saw us she'd throw a fit about us getting dirty but she wasn't here so it didn't matter.
Hannah was stretched out beside the shelf full of history novels, a thick book in her hand, a document of some historic event, probably. Attempting to read the letters upside down was giving me a headache though, so I turned back to my own book, Percy Jackson and the Titan's Curse. The difference between our choice of novels were like night and day but that didn't stop us from discussing them all the same.
The sunlight filtered through the window highlighted Hannah and she almost seemed to glow. Her blonde hair, the same shade as mine and yet so much prettier on her, appeared almost golden in the light.
Pensively, I reached up and gently tugged on one of the golden locks. Hannah didn't seem bothered by my tugging, and I hauled myself onto her lap, lying my head on her torso to better fiddle with it.
"Page?" Hannah asked, not looking up from her book.
"Uh, hundred fifty four," I answered, caught off guard by the sudden query. "You?"
Hannah grinned, blue eyes twinkling in delight. "A hundred sixty," she proclaimed gleefully. "I win! Yay, I get extra dessert tonight!"
"Aww." I threw my book down with a sigh and pouted. "Not fair, you won the last five rounds! And the drawing competition, and the swimming competition, and the spelling bee! How are you so good at this?"
"Don't be silly, Alex." Hannah smiled. "Don't you know? I'm the—"
-:-
"Alex!"
With a gasp, I jolt awake.
It takes me a few seconds to regain my bearings. I don't know how long I was asleep for, but it wasn't enough—my head is all fuzzy.
"Oh, good, you're awake," a familiar voice says. Fujioka appears in my line of vision, a mildly irritated look on his face. "You wouldn't wake up, I was beginning to get desperate. Anyways, we're here!"
"Ugh." I take a moment to comb my hair back, wincing when I feel the strands tangling. God, I would kill to have a shower. "Thanks for waking me up. What time is it?"
Fujioka glances at his watch. "Almost nine, you slept for four hours."
No wonder I'm still tired. Four hours isn't nearly enough for my brain to be working properly. At least I don't feel like a zombie anymore, which is progress.
I step out of the car. Fujioka's already unloading my suitcases from the trunk, so I take the time to observe what would be my home for the year. As far as apartment complexes go, it's rather typical, moderately sized and looking a bit old. Cream coloured walls and a wooden door, with metal stairs leading to each of the apartment units.
"Alex, over here!" Fujioka hauls my suitcase up the steps. I quickly grab the other, feeling a little guilty for making him carry all my stuff, but at least he's nice enough to help out.
The stairs creak under our steps, and I regard them uncertainly, but Fujioka seems nonplussed by the noise. Probably typical, meaning there's no immediate danger of it breaking. Probably. Hopefully.
We reach the landing and Fujioka heads towards the door furthest from us. I follow him, unceremoniously dragging my suitcase behind me. The landing is roughly paved, which is why the suitcase is making such horrendous noise.
We stop at the door. Fujioka fishes around for his key, then unlocks the door. He looks at me with a smile and gestures for me to enter. "Come on in! It may not be what you're used to, but it's home. I'm sure you'll like it."
That's for me to judge, but it isn't like I have incredibly high standards. I follow the auburn-haired man into the house and place my suitcase down. Thank god, my arms are tired. Yeah, I'm not really in the best shape.
That said, the house really is surprisingly cozy. There's an undeniable aura of this house being lived in, which sounds a bit weird, but compared to the lifeless mansion back in the states this house feels much more lively. Warm, cream coloured walls, upon which dozens of pictures are hung. Many of them feature Fujioka and an unknown girl with medium length hair and hazel, his daughter probably—what's her name? It started with an H… Hara? Hana? Haru?
Haruhi! That's right.
My heart pangs with sympathy when I notice a small shrine in the corner, the incense sticks still smoking faintly. In the picture frame is a beautiful woman; her mother, most likely.
The living room has two couches, both fairly worn out, and a coffee table low to the ground. The hallway splits off into three directions, the kitchen, the bathroom, and another hallway, where the rooms are.
As far as living spaces went, this is definitely not the worst. I can deal with it.
"What do you think?" Fujioka asks with a proud smile when he realizes what I'm looking at. "Not bad, huh?"
I surprise him by smiling at him, the first one I've given all morning. "Not bad at all, Fujioka-san. I think I'll like it here."
Fujioka blinks, looking a little stunned, and then his smile returns, brighter this time. "Call me Ranka!" He insists jovially, then grabs my suitcase and starts towing it down the hall.
"This is the kitchen," he explains as we pass by. I sneak a peek into the room and am surprised by how well stocked it seems to be. "Haruhi's room is right here." He gestures to the heavy oak door.
Not that I can miss it, considering there's a sign taped on it, proclaiming it to be Haruhi's room in japanese. It only takes me a few seconds to read it, which I'm a little proud of. Japanese has never really come easy to me, but it looks like those few months of learning paid off.
"Here's your room." Ranka stops by the last door and grins. "Go on, take a look."
"Thanks."
His smile is all the invitation I need, and I push open the door. I'm pleasantly surprised by how spacious the room is, granted it only has a bed, a dresser, and a desk in it, but there's plenty of floor room in case I want to add additional furniture. The walls are a nice shade of blue, and the bed is a twin with matching blue covers. The large desk in the corner is perfect for working.
"Wow, this is really neat," I marvel. "Thanks, Ranka-san."
He grins. Clearly this is the reaction he's expecting. "If you need anything, call me or Haruhi. Haruhi's out shopping right now, but she'll be back in time for lunch, I'll introduce you guys then. You still have a month before school so take your time! You can sleep for now, you didn't get that much rest on the car."
I nod, and Ranka leaves. I close the door behind him and take the time to admire the room again.
Really, this is much more than I'm expecting.
That said, packing will have to wait until later in the day. I dump my suitcases on the ground, careful not to tip them over, and sit on the bed. It smells nice too, I'm pleasantly surprised to realize.
I'm starting to fall asleep again.
Well, all things considered, I can sleep another few hours before waking up. Then I can get to working on other things, like showering and unpacking. Maybe even meet Haruhi—after all, if we're to live in the same house for a year, I'd better get familiar with her.
Before I even realise it, I'm drifting off again.
-:-
I wake up a while later, disoriented but feeling much more refreshed from the nap. No dreams this time, thankfully.
I had stumbled into the room earlier without closing the curtains, meaning the sun was now beaming directly onto my face. I grimace and roll over, burying my head in my hands as I try to escape the light
I stay on the bed for a few moments longer then manage to drag myself out of the pleasantly warm cocoon of blankets I had constructed, persuading myself that I still had to unpack all my belongings. Ughhh, packing. Gross.
Still, I am a mature person who has real responsibilities—at least, that's what I like to believe — so I get to work on unpacking.
It's tedious work, laying down both suitcases and unzipping them, taking out items and stacking them in piles, and soon I find that despite my efforts I'm surrounded in a pile of clothes, books, and miscellaneous items. Really, why did I decide to bring so much stuff? I mean, I know that I'm staying for the whole year but damn this is a lot.
Five laptops. Why do I even need five? Whose idea was it to pack five? If I break one I could just buy another. No need to bring them all.
Eventually I give up on unpacking and slump on to the bed, ignoring the clothes still strewn haphazardly on the bed. I can finish unpacking later.
I sniff my arm curiously then grimace. Yeah, a shower would be pretty great right around now.
Knock, knock.
Someone raps politely on the door. I lift my head up. "I'm coming!"
Gingerly I step around my belongings and open the door. On the other side I'm met with an unfamiliar face. Rumpled and messy brown hair, practically ancient glasses that obscure their eyes, and a worn out sweater.
Wait, is this Haruhi? But she looks so—uh, how do I put this politely—messy compared to her photos. Not that she looks bad, just… really rumpled.
"Hi," I greet with a smile, holding my hand out to shake hers. "It's nice to meet you, my name's Alex Parker, the foreign exchange from America. Uh, how do you do?"
Hazel coloured eyes blink at me before she smiles, and wow, she has a really nice smile, a soft and almost timid lifting of her lips. She takes my hand and shakes it with an air of mild amusement — wait, shit, I forgot, they do the bowing thing in Japan. "Fujioka Haruhi. It's great to see you, I'm sure we'll get along."
"Thanks." I let go of the handshake, feeling a bit awkward. "What time is it?"
"Around twelve," Haruhi replies. "I came down to grab you for lunch, I finished making it. Are you hungry?"
As if on cue, my stomach growls, loudly enough that it could be heard.
Come to think of it, the last meal I had (not counting disgusting airplane food, because that is not proper food) was the pasta I'd hastily gulped down right before my flight. That was nearly two days ago, no wonder I was starving.
Haruhi smiles. "I'm guessing you're hungry, based on that. Come on, let's eat. You're fine with japanese food, right?"
Based on her expression, she wasn't planning on making me something even if I wasn't fine with what she'd made, so it's a good thing I'm not a picky eater.
"Yeah, that'd be great!" I follow her out the room, shutting the door securely behind me. Just thinking about the mess on the floor made my head start pounding; taking a lunch break is probably for the best.
Ranka's setting up the table, which is low to the ground. I don't recognize most of the plates but it looks delicious, and probably is too, judging on how it smells. My stomach growls again and I can't help but flush slightly.
Ranka looks up and beams. "Haruhi, I see you've met Alex. Alex, what do you think of Haruhi? Isn't she the cutest?"
"Erm." I hedge awkwardly. Is there really a correct response to that question. "Haruhi's great?"
Haruhi's brow pinches slightly. "Dad, really?"
"Aw, I'm sorry," Ranka coos, "I just really missed you. Why are you wearing that shirt, it's so old! Don't you have newer ones?"
"It's fine," Haruhi stresses, with a mildly irritated look. "Can we eat now?"
"Yes, please," I add, practically salivating. "I'm starving."
We settle in to eat. I watch Haruhi and Ranka sit at the table and copy their posture, folding my knees under me. If I'd been doing the same at home, Mom would have been on me in seconds, yelling about proper posture and elegance, but it seems to be the custom here. There's a bowl of rice and a pair of chopsticks on the side.
Chopsticks. I'd known I would have to use them but I'm really… not that good with chopsticks.
"Uh," I clear my throat, and both Ranka and Haruhi turn to me. "Do you guys have, uh, spoons or forks? I'm, uh, not that good with chopsticks."
A beat of silence, and I flush under their scrutiny. Ugh, I should've spent more time practicing with chopsticks, but after the first few times I'd failed so badly Mom insisted I use other utensils rather than risk my dignity and humiliate myself any further.
"Oh, of course!" Ranka's eyes light up with realization and he offers me an apologetic look. "I should have realised. Sorry, Lexie-chan, we weren't thinking."
"Thanks." I take the spoon from him gratefully. Did he call me Lexie-chan? That's going to take some getting used to. "Sorry for inconveniencing you."
"Don't worry about it," Haruhi reassures me.
Ranka scoops several generous portions of some kind of soup and vegetables. Haruhi follows, serving herself a more moderately sized spoonful. There's so much to eat, and I'm not even sure what to start with, but I'm so hungry I could probably eat the entire bowl of plain rice. Yeah, I know, that sounds terribly bland, but that's how hungry I was.
I scoop up several pieces of what looked like grilled fish, sprinkled with spices, and add some more vegetables. Once I stock up on a decent amount of side dishes I decide to give it a try.
I take the first bite a little hesitantly. I've never really eaten japanese food, at least, japanese food that wasn't from a restaurant, but I shouldn't have even been worried—it was absolutely delicious.
"Holy shit this is amazing!" I exclaim in English, too stunned and appreciative to switch to japanese.
How do you even make food taste that good, I wonder to myself in amazement as I chew down on the vegetables. It was crispy but just a tang spicy, and entirely unknown. If I were that kind of person I would even call it a foodgasm.
Ranka is grinning at me knowingly. "I know, it's delicious isn't it? Haruhi's so good at cooking! Haruhi is so talented and amazing!"
To be honest, seeing Ranka switch so suddenly to a doting father is still a little unnerving, if only because I'm not exactly used to doting parents. Not that I can judge, my own parents are rather… uh, apart from the norm. At least Haruhi had a good relationship with her dad.
"Do you like the food?" Haruhi looks up with a curious tilt of her head.
"It was fantastic," I gush, smiling sincerely. "You must be an amazing chef, because I swear I just saw God."
Haruhi looks a little taken aback by my description but she smiles with pride. "That's good, I wasn't too sure what to make you. You've probably eaten much better food, after all."
Is it just my imagination or does Haruhi look a little wistful? Is she like, a foodie? Oh my god, she totally is, isn't she—I make a mental note to order her some fancy food for her to taste. I don't really know what kind she likes specifically but I'm sure we'll figure it out.
"No, this is a lot better than anything I've eaten," I respond, and dig into the rest of my food eagerly.
Each bite is still as delicious as the previous, and I quickly polish off the rest of my bowl. I even grab a few seconds, seeing as there are still more food left, but I eat the second bowl much slower, savouring each bite. If this is what I'm eating for the rest of my stay, then I am completely okay with that. More than okay, in fact.
Once the food is finished, Haruhi and her dad immediately gather up the plates to wash them. I hover around, uncertain of what to do. I mean, they don't really have a dishwasher, so they're washing it by hand, and I've never really done that? Normally the housekeeper handles the chores and wow I sound like such a spoiled kid, don't I.
"Hey, is there anything I can do to help?" I offer, floating around the edges of the kitchen nervously.
Ranka raises an eyebrow. "Don't worry, we've got this. You can go finish packing," he offers.
I feel a little guilty, and that doesn't sit right with me. I may be the guest, but if I'm going to stay here for a year I should at least try to be useful, right? It doesn't feel right to freeload off them and make me think I'm any more spoiled than they already think I am.
"No, really, I'd love to help. I can wash the dishes!"
Ranka agrees and lets me take his place, albeit reluctantly. He keeps a keen eye on me as I grab one of the plates and rinse it under water, probably sensing my ineptitude. I mean, it's true that I haven't done this before but how hard can this be? It's not like it's rocket science or anything, all I have to do is rinse the plate—
"Alex, shut off the tap! The water's overflowing!"
-:-
After several apologies, bows, and mopping up the floor from where the water had flowed over the sides, Ranka had forgiven me, though he eyed me with a bemused expression, no doubt wondering how stupid I was. He gives me a short lesson on how to properly wash the dishes, all while Haruhi had dutifully finished clearing up the plates from dinner in the time Ranka takes to wash the dishes.
Haruhi is amazingly efficient. I'd probably caused her more trouble than help in my attempt at cleaning. Just thinking about the whole incident makes me want to crawl into a hole and die. Who even knew there were so many nuances to dishwashing anyways?
My clothes had gotten wet so Ranka offered to help with them. After giving him the clothes I decided to take a shower, which felt amazing, mind you. It's amazing how refreshed I feel after taking a shower.
I pile my hair and skin products on the counter, right beside Haruhi's and her fathers. Surprisingly, Ranka seems to have way more beauty products than Haruhi—I eye a tub of lipstick curiously. What does he need it all for anyways?
Wrapping a towel around my waist, I untangle my pajamas from where I'd placed them on the counter and set about dressing myself. Thankfully, with my hair at its new length, barely shoulder-length, it's much easier to dry and comb. It takes me only ten minutes to finish up, a new record.
I glance at myself in the mirror with a small smile. Blue eyes smile back at me, and a sick feeling suddenly plummets in my chest. I glance away hurriedly. I'd nearly forgotten what it felt like to look into my reflection and why I'd cut my hair, and I'd just been reminded.
I'm desperate to leave the bathroom now, feeling almost caged by the room. I reach for the door and wrench it open, not bothering to look where I'm going. This turns out to be a mistake as I slam into something solid.
"Shit!"
Unable to catch myself I tumble to the floor, wincing as I hit the ground hard. Holy shit, my head hurts like hell, what even did I slam into, a steel wall?
"Ugh…"
Fuck, that's Haruhi. I just slammed into Haruhi, didn't I. Christ I'm on a roll today—first failing (rather epically) at washing the dishes, a mundane task, and then demonstrating my own lack of spatial awareness and clumsiness by bumping into my other houseguest. Way to go, Alex, if you were going for a total dumbass impression then you've got it!
I scramble to my feet, immediately offering a hand up. "Shoot, are you okay? I'm so sorry! I wasn't looking where I was going!"
Haruhi blinks at me, looking a little dazed. There are no bruises as far as I can see, thank god, and she seems fine apart from surprised. "Don't worry about it, I should have been more careful." She takes my hand and stands.
Wait wait wait, holy shit, am I shorter than Haruhi? What the fuck—what the actual fuck, that's not fair! Haruhi looks like she's five feet, it's not like she's very tall either, what, how am I still shorter than her? I thought Japanese people weren't supposed to be tall!
Ugh, I can't believe it. Just my luck that everyone is taller than me. It's not my fault I'm only five feet! Blame genetics! Stupid parents.
"Earlier I didn't get the chance to speak to you much," the japanese girl says, not noticing my sullen anger. "Sorry if I came off a little rude."
"Nah, it's fine." I rub the back of my neck awkwardly. "I understand the feeling."
"Your japanese is surprisingly good," Haruhi comments with interest. We're still standing in the middle of the hall, which isn't really a great place to have a heart-to-heart, but it's not like I have anywhere I need to go, so might as well. "Can you speak fluently?"
"Fairly fluently." I start heading towards my room, carrying my towel. Haruhi follows me, continuing the conversation as we walk. "My reading and writing are a little rusty, but it's getting better. I can speak the language pretty well, though some of the conventions still get me. English is just easier, you know?"
"Really? Then why did you choose Japan for the transfer program?" Haruhi sounds genuinely curious, about my motives. "Why not stay in America? It's got some pretty good schools."
The question is obviously meant to be unobtrusive, but I have to force myself not to flinch at the question. Haruhi had no idea what a landmine of a topic she'd just stepped on, and that isn't her fault. I manage to keep my face relatively clear of emotions as I answer.
"I've always admired Japanese culture!" I say cheerfully, keeping my tone and expression light hearted. "It's really amazing how diverse the east and the west can be. I've visited Japan before, too, and fell in love. Also… Japan is the center of anime and manga! Of course I'd want to visit."
It's not entirely false. I've always had an interest in Japan, more than just casual, and yeah, a lot of that was influenced by my love for anime, but it's not exactly the whole truth either. The real reason is a lot more serious, and I don't really feel like divulging all this private information to someone I'd just met, even if Haruhi seems pretty cool
"Anime?" Haruhi raises an eyebrow. It's clear that she wasn't expecting that response, not that I can blame her. After all, rich heir to a company and anime nerd really don't fit together, but I've never really been what you call normal anyways. "Oh, so you're an otaku? That's cool."
From her tone, it's clear that she's clueless about anime but putting an effort to make conversation. Well, if she's going to redirect the flow of the conversation I don't really mind, either. In fact, I take the invitation gratefully.
"I'm pretty intense about anime," I admit. "I've watched many series, and I'm obsessed with a few really good ones. If you're interested, I'd love to talk about it sometime."
"Huh, I don't really watch anime." Haruhi furrows her brows pensively. "We don't have a computer in the house, either, so I don't have much time to watch."
—Wait, hold on, did I hear that right? Did she—did she just say she doesn't have a computer in the house? Holy shit, she did, didn't she. What.
How?
What does she do with her assignments, write them by hand? What the heck. Is this the norm? Do people just write out their essays? How do you even get by without Google?
"Are you okay?" Haruhi stares at me with a raised eyebrow. "You've gone all silent."
"Oh my god," I blurt out, louder than I expected. Haruhi looks a little taken aback by the passion in my tone. "H-how do you live without a laptop? Wait, do you even have internet? Do you have a phone?"
She has to have internet at the very least, that's like, a basic requirement for life. And if she doesn't it would be a lot harder for me to live here—one of the requirements for allowing me to study in Japan was regularly updating Mom on my situation, which would be a lot harder to do without internet.
The japanese teen looks overwhelmed by the sudden load of questions, and rushes to answer them. "Uh, I'm okay without a computer, don't worry. We do have internet though, my dad uses it sometimes. I don't have a phone, sorry."
I sigh and let out a breath. "At least you have WiFi. Is this a cultural difference or something? Because everyone back home has two computers and a phone per household, basically."
Haruhi shrugs. "I've never really seen the need," she says offhandedly. From her answer it's clear she thinks I'm overreacting, which I might be.
I think it over. Obviously, I can't just let her not have a computer, but it's also pretty clear that Haruhi and her father aren't exactly the richest people around. Buying a computer isn't a necessity but it would make her life a lot easier—especially if she got a phone. I mean, I can understand not having a computer (not really) but not having a phone? What if you're kidnapped, or hurt, or lost? What would you do then, run around hopelessly?
Wait a second, this is great! Because guess who conveniently has five extra laptops (yes, five, I know, it's stupid) that they don't need? Me! And phones are pretty easy to purchase, considering my Dad's a tech company. I get these things shipped over super quickly. It should be easy to get.
"Hey, Haruhi, I can give you one of my laptops," I offer. "I mean, I have five of them with me and I really don't need that many. Since I don't need them, do you want to have one? It's no trouble, really."
"Uh, I don't really need it," Haruhi starts.
"No, really, I insist. It would be no trouble at all," I cut in, smiling pleasantly.
Haruhi stares at me bemusedly. "Oh, well, if you insist, then I guess it's alright then," she says flatly.
That's settled, I guess. I'll tell her about the phone situation another time, don't want to spring too many gifts upon her and seem like I'm patronising her or something. Best to leave it there for today.
I reach my room and open the door. Haruhi hangs back politely, but raises an eyebrow at the mess in my room. "Do you need some help?"
I'm about to politely decline, then reconsider. All things said, I could use an extra set of hands helping me put everything away neatly, and it'd be a good chance to bond too. If Haruhi didn't mind, of course.
"Actually, that would be really nice," I say with a wry smile. "I have a lot to unpack."
"I can tell," Haruhi agrees. I probably have more useless stuff than a person would ever need, and yeah, that's totally my fault for packing them, but at least she's willing to help. She gingerly maneuvers her way into the room, stepping over the piles of random items strewn everywhere and settles down.
I can feel my headache returning at the prospect of packing, but hey, at least I have help this time. I need to get it done anyways, or my life would suck a lot more later, so might as well.
"Alright." I sigh, blowing strands of blonde hair out of my face. I manage a smile, even though I'm already feeling exhausted. "Let's get to work, then."
END
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New story, yay!
So, just a few notes before I begin this story. About my OC Alex, I hope she doesn't come off too much like a Mary Sue. I've seen many OC insert fanfictions, but each of them always ticked me off in one way or another, because they tended to make their character take over most of Haruhi's character development scenes and be this perfect character, and I don't like that. I created an OC with the idea that she is merely a supporting character to the story and Haruhi will maintain her status as the most important character.
That said, there will still be character development and some scenes for Alex, because if not this story wouldn't be important at all. The plot will follow the manga's story and fitting in with all the arcs and stuff, but will stick by the anime's version of things. For example, Eclair will not appear in this story, since she is an anime only character, and the Ouran Fair arc will follow the manga, but in terms of individual happenings the anime will be my reference.
For pairings, I don't have any pairings planned out for my OC. I prefer to focus more on friendships and genuine character interactions rather than romance, but if I think a relationship is progressing naturally enough then I might add that in. I will follow canon ships as the manga describes, so be warned for that. Of course, there will be manga spoilers, so if you haven't finished it be warned.
Thank you for following with me this far! Next chapter should be up soon, around next week.