Chapter Text
Finally, I'm home. My real home. Maybe…just maybe…he’ll welcome me…
The plane landed on an early winter morning in Tokyo. Amaya opened her eyes and stretched after the long flight, eagerly peering out the window at the brilliantly clear city before her. This was the first time she had been to her home country, but she felt like she knew the place through the tapestry of stories her mother had woven for her. She knew by heart the smells of green tea and cherry blossoms, the way the sun set in the evenings, and even what the bustling streets were like, thanks to her mother’s deep well of memories.
Mother…
Amaya clutched a worn envelope close to her heart, soft from constant touch, as she readied her bags to deboard the plane. It had been six months since her mother died, and Amaya, at seventeen, was utterly alone. That is, until she had been given her mother’s will and the letter attached, with contents that would change her life.
Amaya had grown up in San Francisco with a single mother who insisted that she speak Japanese at home, although all of the other children spoke English. She had been forced to learn martial arts, even though she wanted to do ballet. She knew how to sing Japanese songs, but she had wanted to play guitar. She could paint, but only calligraphy, flowers, and nature scenes. She knew how to perform a tea ceremony, properly adorn herself in a kimono, and cook all the traditional foods of Japan.
"You will thank me one day," her mother had said, "for making sure your heritage is always a part of you."
While Amaya complained early on, she never truly begrudged her mother. Now, she wished more than ever that she could hold her mother's hand again and say 'thank you,' but instead she offered up a prayer.
Please, if you’re still with me, guide me home.
Throughout her life, Amaya knew nothing about her father. Even before her birth, her parents had no contact, and her mother was always reluctant to give any information away. However, the letter she clutched held priceless information that she had longed for her entire life: who her father was and his whereabouts. Her father was the head of the old and prestigious Haninozuka family. At that, Amaya’s heart had leapt with joy – her father was alive, and she had extended family. However, anxiety, nervousness, and disappointment soon followed. What reputable Japanese man would give a child born out of wedlock a place of honor in his family? Still, Amaya had no other option but to follow the links in her mother’s cryptic letter. She was now in Tokyo, and that, at least, was a start.
Outside the airport, Amaya hailed a taxi and gave the driver an address. She would now be living with an old friend of her mother’s, Tomiju, while she attended school.
Two weeks prior, Amaya had received the letter that she had been waiting for: acceptance into Ouran Academy. It had been her mother's dream that she attend, and now that she was in her final year of high school, she had gained acceptance as an exchange student. She left her entire life behind to enroll in a school in a country she didn’t know, but it was better than fending for herself in San Francisco. Plus, she held onto the thread of hope that maybe, just maybe, her father would be a kind and welcoming man.
If I could just talk to him…
The taxi arrived at a modest yet well-kept home. Lights inside gave the appearance of a warm and welcoming place. The door opened to reveal an old, yet energetic woman who still looked like she could run a marathon, or perhaps wrangle a bear. She was tough, yet welcoming…but she also talked a mile a minute.
"Amaya-chan! You look so much like your mother. Please come in! Have you eaten yet? I must rush to the tea house, but I made extra food for breakfast and lunch. You look tired. Maybe you could nap today…although that Academy keeps calling asking if you've arrived yet. You'll need to pick up your uniform! They've also sent a list of other expenses and books you'll need."
Tomiju was widowed with one adult son who lived a couple hours outside of Tokyo with his wife. She spent her time working hard in her business managing a tea house. She had owned the tea house for years and employed Amaya’s mother, before she had gotten pregnant and left for the United States. In those days, the tea house had been popular and grand, but from what Amaya gathered, it was now a tourist trap that served coffee and sweets. Tomiju quickly made sure that Amaya was settled in, and just as quickly was out of the house and off to the market to prepare for the day’s work.
The house was eerily quiet once Tomiju’s chattering was gone. Amaya considered that much of the warmth in the place had to do with the person who lived there, rather than the structure itself. She settled into her new bedroom and unpacked her things. A couple of boxes that she had previously shipped overseas stood neatly stacked against the wall. All of her belongings in the world fit into a few boxes and a suitcase. From her backpack, she carefully removed an ornate wooden box and set it on her bedside table. She then pulled out a picture frame and set it up next to the box. She lingered for a moment on her mother’s face before busying herself by making this room her new sanctuary. When she was satisfied, she opened up her computer and connected to the wifi, checking her email and finding the details of everything she needed to do before starting at Ouran the following Monday.
"Here we go, mom," she said to the picture as she began transcribing the email to a piece of paper. "Uniforms, books, supplies, classrooms, clubs to join. There's even a karate club. It’s just like back home. I mean…” she caught herself, “this is home now.”
She closed her eyes and tried to fight back tears. This was home now. She wanted that to settle in quickly, because the transition would be difficult otherwise. She wiped her tears away with the back of her hand and finished the list before grabbing her keys. She walked outside and into the winter sunshine, but hesitated, returning to the house to get a bag. Carefully placing the box inside of the bag, she whispered, “I can't do this alone today." Then, she set off in the opposite direction of the school.
After about an hour and multiple checks of her map, she stood in front of a massive, gated complex.
"Wow…" she said under her breath. "You could have at least told me about this, mama."
In front of her stood the Haninozuka estate, a sprawling campus that looked like it covered tens to hundreds of acres. As she stepped through the front arch, she was immediately greeted by two guards.
"Good morning and welcome to the Haninozuka estate. What can we do for you today?" one of them asked.
"I was wondering if I could get a tour of the grounds," Amaya replied, improvising.
"Do you have a pass? Only verified families and friends of students are allowed."
"A…pass? I don't think so," she said, stunned at the level of security. She added hesitantly, "I am a student, though, at Ouran Academy, class 3A."
"Oh, then you must be a friend of Haninozuka-san and Morinozuka-san. Please, right this way."
She was confused, but she didn't correct the two men, instead following them through a manicured garden and to what appeared to be a dojo. The building was large and stood in the middle of the green space, separated from many of the other buildings on the estate. It had an outer deck that wrapped around the entire building, and many of the sliding paper doors were open to allow the brisk winter air into the training space.
"Haninozuka-san and Morinozuka-san are both currently training, and they don't break for another hour. However, you are welcome to watch the training sessions and to view the gardens. Please, enjoy yourself."
After the two men left her, she wandered towards the open doors and peeked into the dojo. There were rows of men and boys running through basic movements. In front, a cute, short, blond-haired boy, and a handsome, tall boy with dark hair and an olive skin-tone led the rest of the students through their movements.
No women here… Amaya considered. I hope that’s not the same at Ouran.
Back in San Francisco, the dojo Amaya attended had been traditional, but co-ed. Here, it looked like they took gender roles more seriously. She watched as the smaller of the two boys in front stopped his movements, but kept giving orders. He began to walk around to check the form of the students in the back. After a command, everyone assumed the square horse position. The tall boy in front had excellent posture, she noticed, like a rock that couldn't be moved, but not heavy on his feet. He could strike at any moment. She looked around the room and saw one boy who didn’t have his knees bent nearly far enough for a strong base. The small blond boy saw this, too, and kicked the boy's legs out from under him. Amaya smirked. She knew exactly what that was like. It was embarrassing. It also made her itch to get back into the dojo to train.
As soon as she made a sound, the tall boy in the front shifted his eyes to look at her. She made eye contact with him and froze. His gray eyes were unfathomable and penetrated deeply, as if he knew her secret: she was a foreigner in her own country and a trespasser on her father’s property.
In a second that seemed like eternity, his eyes shifted back forward before the younger boy called the room to attention. Amaya took that moment to turn away and felt her eyes welling up with tears for the second time that day. She took a deep breath and moved on from the dojo, wondering where she might find her father on a day like this.
Amaya wandered around the grounds for a few more minutes, enjoying the cool air. Soon, she was lost within the compound’s winding trails, away from the front gates and the dojo. She lost track of time following a winding path that eventually led towards what looked like a small temple. She entered the space and quickly realized where she was. It was the ground where her ancestors were buried. Haninozukas surrounded her.
Amaya wasn't religious like her mother, but she had been taught to respect the deceased. Being in this place made her feel wrong. She wasn’t a true member of the Haninozuka family, and the sense of alienation she felt overwhelmed her. However, because their blood ran through her veins, she knelt to the ground before them and offered a simple prayer for acceptance and for guidance. She pulled the gilded box from her bag that contained her mother's ashes and placed it in front of her. She asked for forgiveness for her mother, and peace for both families. When she finally stood up with the box of her mother’s ashes in her hand, she heard a deep voice behind her.
"This place is sacred. What are you doing here?"
She caught her breath, surprised that she had let someone sneak up on her. The voice had not been menacing, but the question made her feel even more unwanted. She turned to face the owner of the voice and came face to face with the tall, dark-haired boy who had the ability to make her blood freeze with one glance. Upon meeting his eyes, goosebumps rose on her arms.
"I’m…I’m…" she hesitated, trying to come up with a good excuse. She looked down at the box in her hands. At that moment, the boy moved toward her and grabbed the edge of the box. On instinct and out of protectiveness, she pulled it roughly away from him and stepped back a couple of paces.
Her eyes widened in realization. He must think I'm stealing, she thought. The family shrine had other ornate boxes and urns around it, and he must have mistaken her mother's ashes for one of the Haninozuka ancestors. She raised one arm in the air and slowly put the box back to the ground.
“I can explain,” she said, but as soon as it was out of her grasp, he grabbed her wrist.
On instinct she moved her arm toward the weakest point of his grip, gripping his arm instead and twisting him into a rear lock. His eyes widened slightly with surprise, but he shoved her backwards before pivoting to escape the hold. He regained his grip on her wrist and twisted her arm into a similar position. She, now with her back to him, aimed for a rear kick to the groin, but he used his other hand to block the shot before putting her into a rear bearhug with her arms pinned. Then, he lifted her off of the ground.
"That's my mother! Let me go!" she cried. She brought her head down and swung it backwards as hard as she could, smashing into the boy's nose. He let out a painful grunt. She kicked his shin, and he loosened his grip just enough that she slipped down to the ground. Before she could go any further, he was on top of her, putting a lock around her neck. She turned her head, trying to breathe, and clawed at his arm, but the pressure didn't change. She tried to get her feet under her to flip him or loosen his grip, but he was much too tall and much too strong. Black spots began to appear in her vision as she struggled to breathe. No! She thought. I'm going to lose mom again… She took one final glance at the box she had promised to keep safe before passing out.