This Fanfiction is set during a war. Most people will choose to think that it takes place in World War 2, but it is up to you to choose which one it takes place in.
Chapter 1:
Haruhi's POV:
It has been over a year since my elder brother left for the war. Over a month since we had received his last letter. I fear that something has happened to him, though I pray to the gods that he is not dead. My elder brother, Fujioka Akio, meaning glorious hero, or glorious man. I love my elder brother, and with a name like Akio, he can't possibly have died, could he?
It has been three months since I was forced to join the Ouran High School Host Club. All the people there have not been touched by the conscription. They just buy their way out of the war, and I hate them for it. Though it is hard to hate the young men in the host club, they are just so fun to be around. While I hate the school and the people at it, the only reason that I am still there is because it is one place that is seemingly untouched by the war. Places like Ouran Academy are so hard to come by. It's not like how things used to be, all happy, and normal. People not seeing what was coming. I now know what they mean by ignorance is bliss. It truly was, and I realize only now, that we don't appreciate the peace, when we are blessed with it. Though the peace is the calm before the storm, I find myself longing to be as ignorant as these people. I can pretend that I know nothing of the war, I can make the choice whether to tell the Host Club about my brother who is out there fighting on the front lines. Even though I could tell them about my beloved Akio, they wouldn't be able to remove him from the war. They may not want to.
Today is another completely normal day at the Host Club. Kyoya is writing in his notebook, and Kaoru and Hikaru are being perverts towards me again. Tamaki is yelling at those two shady perverts, and Honey is eating cake while Mori silently watches over him. Then there is me. It has been a month since my father and I had last received word from Akio, so even in my haven from the war, I think and worry after my brothers well-being. The customers had left only five minutes before, but I have already drifted away and into my mind, where I am free to worry. In this place it is practically taboo to speak of the war, though sometimes when we have won a large battle, there are whispers through the hallways. Other than the whispers no one speaks of it. I worry that this place may be bombed, after all, there are many rich Japanese families who fund the military, so it would be an ideal place to attack. This is also something that worries Father. These fools are ignorant of the danger that they put us all in. But what would we have them do? Go into hiding until the war is over? That would never work. "Fujioka Haruhi?" I hear the timid voice of one of the receptionists ask, bringing me out of though. I look up at her, and see that she is peering in through the partially open door. "What is it?" I ask. "You have a visitor." "Oh. You may send him in." "But it's a man from the military." The receptionist whispered the last word, as if there was no word worse than it. I straightened up. I had a visitor from the military? Was it Akio? What happened for him to be here? Was he injured? The other hosts looked at me as if it hadn't occurred to them that I may know someone who was in the war; and it probably hadn't. Why would they know anyone who had an emotional connection to the war? "Send them in," I repeat. "Pardon me Fujioka, but the man requests that you step out of the room to meet with him." "I see. Send him in anyways." I reply with the finality of my decision clearly evident in my voice. "Very well Fujioka." The receptionist said bowing before she ducked out from the room and let a man in a general's uniform in. The man's short black hair, and dark grey eyes, were recognizable as a man that she had known since she was born was none other than her brothers best friend Katsuro, meaning victorious son. A good name for a general. "He is dead. My brother is dead isn't he Katsuro." I say. It is not a question for I already know the answer. It is the only answer for my brother's silence, and Katsuro's sudden appearance. "Yes," replies Katsuro. "I'm sorry," I say. "What for?" "You lost Akio as well. The two of you have been inseparable since the time during which you still required your mother's milk. Don't act like this isn't tearing you apart inside." I say, taking a sip of my now cold tea. I place the cup down on its saucer and stand up walking slowly towards Katsuro. "Don't act so high and mighty. It is not like you, Katsuro." I whisper his name, wrapping my arms around him, pulling him close, and holding him tightly. Slowly he wraps himself around me, and begins to cry. "I couldn't protect him. I couldn't protect him. I couldn't protect him." Cries Katsuro. "Be that as it may. It's not your fault that he is dead. "Slowly a tear fell from her eye. "But I couldn't protect him!" Sobbed Katsuro. "So it's my fault that Akio is dead!" "Where you the one who pulled the trigger?" "No, but-" "Then it's not your fault. So quit blaming yourself." I say, the tears starting to roll more freely down my cheeks. "What do I do now? What do I do Haruhi?" "We go home, and tell our families." I say looking up at him. "Then you go back and you work your damnedest to win this war, the war that Akio gave his life for. And you remember, what you are fighting for. Who you are fighting to protect, you remember, and take things one day at a time. One bullet. One grenade. One bomb. And you fight, until you don't have to fight anymore. But most importantly, you remember your fallen comrades, fallen friends, and fallen brothers, and fight so that one day you may see the day we win, and always remember those who made it possible for you to live the life that you will live." "Alright Haruhi." Katsuro let's go of me and wipes my tears away with his thumbs. I grab his hand and dab the tears away from his eyes with my handkerchief. "I'm going home for the day," I announce to the Host Club who were silently watching Katsuro and I. "In fact I am going to be taking the rest of the week off to spend it with my family, and friends." I turn around to pull Katsuro out of the door but I hear Tamaki's voice and turn to look at him. "We're sorry for your loss Haruhi. If there is anything that we can do, please don't hesitate to ask." "Thank you Senpai. I appreciate it," I say with a small sad smile. "Let's go Suro," I say using the Katsuro's nickname, and we walk out of music room number three to face a world, in which we know that will never be able to see Akio's smile ever again. But we will remember. We must. Akio gave his live so that we may live. And because of his sacrifice, we will. I know that I will. We must.
Remember.
