I've been getting back into Ouran lately. I recently re-watched the entire anime, now I'm reading the manga.
woo
I know I have other fics I need to update, but I kinda lost interest in them? Who knows, maybe writing here will give me inspiration, haha/
y'know i keep reading over this and I realize i have a really weird writing style and my grammar is terrible
are there any websites that will check it for you for free? Grammarly is great, but i cant afford that.
Italics is English.
Normal font is Japanese.
As much as I wanted to write the series 'modern day' I decided to write it taking place in 2005, but the story will start a year early, so our main character is still in 9th grade but will be in year 1 (10th grade) in the high school by the time the series starts.
It was a warm day outside. The sun was shining, the Louisana air smelt sweet, fat clouds lazily floated by, both of my parents were going to be home at the same time- it was supposed to be the perfect day.
I had a good day at my school, aced my French test, and had even talked to a cute boy I had liked for a while. Even my Coach for the Track Team was being nice today, and she was usually a hard ass.
The only issue I had today was that I didn't get to shower and change afterward at the school. My mom had called me saying she wanted me home right away and that Mr. Smith, our family's driver, was picking me up soon.
I had felt disgusting. I could feel the sweat covering my body and I could tell my tracksuit was soaked in it. I probably stank to high heaven.
Mr. Smith had seemed off today. He was unusually quiet. It was strange for the old man to be so silent, he usually chatted up a storm. He just had this sad look on his weathered face. He had said my mom was waiting for me in the foyer and needed to speak to me right away when we returned home. I could only wonder what was so important that she had to tell me in person and not on my cell phone. When I had asked Mr. Smith, he said it wasn't his place to tell me.
Soon enough, I was home. My beautiful two story home with ivy creeping up the columns that supported the balconies. While my parents did lead a lavish lifestyle, we had a rather small house to show for it. Well, small for them. I thought it was perfect. Enough space to get away from my family for privacy, yet still small enough I could find them easily. My dad always said that when he was growing up in his parent's estate, it felt lonely because of the ridiculously huge size. I understood where he was coming from, after all, I do go over to Obaa-san's and Jiji's estate every summer with my little brothers.
"Here we are Miss." Mr. Smith had stopped the car in front of the house and was getting ready to get out to open my door. I stopped him as he was unbuckling his seatbelt. Mr. Smith already did so much for my family and I didn't want to give him unnecessary work. He had been doing this for my family long before I was born, I practically grew up around the guy. He was getting up in the years and he shouldn't have to do this all the time for us.
"Mr. Smith, I'm fine," I laughed. "You should go relax and call your kids." He sighed at it, but he let me out close to the garage. When I made my way down the cobblestone path, I could see that my dad's sleek black car was in the garage through the open door when Mr. Smith drove the car in. It was strange that he was home so early. I knew he was going to be home tonight, but I didn't expect him home so soon.
When I walked through the door, I noticed my mom waiting in the foyer, shutting. I could see her strawberry blonde hair was down for once and she was still in her house clothes. It was rare for her not to be dressed to the nines at this hour. She was slouching down with her face in her hands. I shut the door behind me with a soft click. Mom turned and I could her mascara was in dried streaks that ran down her cheeks. Her makeup wasn't finished either.
That was unheard of for my mom.
"Sugar Bee," Her voice was brittle. "Coul' you please sit right here next to me?"
I had kicked off my sneakers at the door, not wanting to make more of a mess with my muddy shoes for the maid. I had felt myself getting anxious, and my heart started to speed up. My mom was a woman of pride who took her appearance seriously. Something was wrong, something had to have been wrong for my mom to be looking like this.
I sat directly next to my mom on that white suede couch. She turned and held my hands within her perfectly manicured ones. Her eyes looked red and puffy.
"Baby," Mom breathed in,"Jiji is sick." She leaned in closer and patted my hands. "Jiji is really sick."
My heart had skipped a beat.
"I-Is he going to be okay?" I had asked, voice cracked. My hopes were crushed.
She slowly broke the news to me, and within an hour, my perfect day was ruined.
Jiji had collapsed in his study and was found by one of his maids. Nobody had known how long he was unconscious in there.
He had been taken to a hospital and they found tumors. This had happened weeks ago, but they were just now telling me because his condition had gotten worse and they didn't know how long Jiji had left.
Jiji was terminally ill.
My Jiji had lung cancer, was dying and there was nothing we could do.
I felt as if someone had poured a bucket of ice water down my back.
I knew my dad had been really busy with Jiji and had been back in Chiba with my Grandparents at their estate in Minamibōsō, but it was for this?
This couldn't be happening.
Jiji, he couldn't be dying. He's only in his 60s.
He looked absolutely fine the last time I saw him. He was laughing and cracking stupid jokes that made Obaa-san aggravated. He had no trouble running around with me at the beach collecting sea shells.
How could he have lung cancer?
I had started to tremble, lips quivering.
"Sugar Bee, it'll be okay, he's being moved to a hospital in Tokyo," My mom sniffled,"and we'll be close by."
My mom looked like she was going to burst into tears again at any second.
"Close by?" I echoed, not wanting to hear what I knew was coming.
"We are moving to Tokyo, Hachi." I felt a hand on my shoulder. My dad had come into the room at some point. I didn't even hear him. Dad looked haggard. His suit was a wrinkled mess like he had slept in it. "For Jiji. He wanted us close by."
He wouldn't want us close by if he was going to live.
I didn't even realize I had started to cry until my mom had pulled me to her chest telling me everything was going to be okay.
I could feel Dad sit next to us and try to soothe me through my sobs.
This day was supposed to be perfect.
Now it was ruined.
My favorite person in the entire world was going to die.
That wasn't fair.
After that, everything was fuzzy to me. I stopped running track and my parents decided to pull me and my little brothers out of school for the remainder of the time we had left here in New Orleans. I said goodbye to my teammates at Isidore Newman. I said goodbye to my friends, I said goodbye to that boy I liked. I said goodbye to the pizza shop I frequented downtown. I said goodbye to the home I was raised in. I said goodbye to the place I loved living in.
This was my home and I didn't want to leave.
My parents didn't know when, or if, we were going to ever come back to this house, so they had the maids packed up everything important and they had sold everything else. The boxed up things had already been sent ahead to our new home in Tokyo. Furniture could always be bought.I stood in the living room, amazed at all the empty space. Everything was gone. From the large tv that my brothers watched Sesame Street on, to the piano that my dad liked to hear my mom play with. All that was left was dust. Those blue walls looked lonely without all the photos and paintings my mom liked to hang.
"Sugar Bee? Are you ready?" Mom was holding my little brothers' hands.
It looked like Rinji and Seiji really didn't know what was going on. All mom and dad had told them that Jiji was sick and that we needed to go see him. I am unsure if they quite understood that he was dying. I was unsure if they even knew what death was. Mom sheltered them so much. They were clinging tightly to Mom's hands. Seiji had tear tracks on his ruddy face. He really didn't want to move. He and Rinji actually had a fight about it and hadn't been speaking to each other for the past two days. I knew they'll make up by the time we got to the new house.
"Chiyo?"
Dad lumbered around the corner, holding a suitcase in one hand and his other running through his short brown hair. Aside from the bags under his eyes, nothing looked wrong. His suit was neat, his hair tidy, not a thing out of place. You couldn't tell he was going through a family crisis and having to plan out his own fathers funeral before it happened. It seemed nobody really wanted to leave America. My dad loved it here. He met the love of his life and started his family here, but duty had called.
"Chiyo? Do you have your carry on with you?" Nodding to my dad, I gripped the strap of my messenger bag. In one hour we were going to be flying over to Japan. To Jiji. It was for Jiji, my favorite grandparent. I could do this.
I bit my lip to keep myself from crying.
I couldn't do this. My normally strong legs shook beneath my puffy skirt. I was always horrible at hiding my emotions, I was just an emotional person. Dad grabbed my hand and led me out of the house. Mom had already placed the twins in the car, then stapped them into their booster seats.
We all piled in, then Mr. Smith drove the limo out of the driveway. I watched my home slowly fade away into the distance.
This sucked.
Surprisingly, the flight over didn't suck as much as I thought it would. Arriving at the airport and making our way out was stressful for my baby brothers. Rinji and Seiji had a death grip on me instead of Mom this time. All of these new people were making them nervous. It didn't help that the boys were still learning to read and write English, and while they could speak Japanese alright for their age; they had an incredibly hard time with reading Hirigana and Katakana. I hope they don't get too stressed out at their new school. Maybe I could help them with their reading? They would feel more comfortable with me helping them than a tutor they didn't know.
"Chiyo? Are we at our new house yet?" A tug on my right hand caught my attention. Seiji was rubbing his eye, getting tired and wanting to sleep. Poor thing wanted to be held, but if I picked Seiji up, then Renji would want up as well and I couldn't carry both of them, my carry-on, and both of their carry-ons. The boys themselves were nearly 45 pounds each. Nope, they had to walk. I followed Mom and Dad, keeping a firm grip on my baby brothers hands. The last thing we needed right now was one of them getting lost in the airport. Rinji, who was the more stoic twin, actually had serious separation anxiety.
"Almost. We have to go get the car first," I murmured, slowly becoming more uncomfortable with the crowds of people rushing about around us. Our Dad was directing us toward the exit, cool as a cucumber.
"Is Mr. Smith takin' us there?" Rinji asked with a yawn. "No," I said back to him. "Mr. Smith was too old to come with us, remember? He's back in America with his daughters." Rinji frowned at that and didn't say anything else as we got to the exit. Seiji, on the other hand, was asking many questions. "Chiyo? Are we there yet? Are we going to live with Obaa-chan? Who is gonna take us to our new home if Mr. Smith isn't here? Where are-" I answered all of my brother's questions, growing a little agitated with how joyful he was becoming. Then I felt guilty for feeling that. Seiji didn't know any better and I shouldn't be getting mad at him. By the time we got close to the exit, he had no more questions and was as quiet as his twin. Stepping outside behind Mom, I noticed there were two limos waiting instead of one. Mom spoke with Dad then came over to me to take my brothers. They went to the first limo, the young chauffeur opening the door for them.
I was left standing with my dad.
"Chiyo," My dad called,"You are going to go with your mom and brothers to the new house. I'm headed to the hospital to meet up with Obaa-san." He was standing straight, face blank. I hated this persona he always had in public. He was always so uptight and acted just like Obaa-san.
"Then Jiji is in the hospital?" I asked, starting to get upset. Dad knew I wanted to see Jiji as soon as I could, I didn't understand why I couldn't go with him.
"Chiyo, you can't go see him yet." His voice was firm. "Go home with your mother. We will discuss this later."
I balled my hands up, wanting to argue. But I could see people around us and I didn't want to embarrass my family.
So I just shut up and got in the limo, glaring at people from behind the tinted glass.
My eyes burned with unshed tears.