Started: 05-05-08 Completed: 05-12-08PRINCESS OURAN
A long time ago, in the Ethereal Realm called Ouran, where there are no lies or pain, there lived a Princess who dreamed of the human world. She dreamt of mortal lives, the hustle bustle of humanity and excitement. One day, eluding her keepers, the Princess escaped. Once outside, the blast of mortal noises deafened her and erased every trace of the past from her memory. She forgot who she was and where she came from. Her body suffered cold, sickness and pain. Eventually, she died. However, her father—the King—always knew that the Princess’ soul would return, perhaps in another body, in another place at another time. And he would wait for her until he drew his last breath, until the world stopped turning…
Haruhi loved that hometown legend. She had heard it since she was 3 years old from her late mother. Ranka, after his wife’s death due to a prolonged illness, used to tell her that tale every night before bedtime in his late wife’s place, and whenever she asked him if the Princess ever made it back to her world, he would always reply, “It’s up to you, darling. You can choose the ending, whether she made it back or not.”
That was before the village matchmaker Renge Houshakuji-sama came. The enthusiastic, loud and energetic lady who had that really creepy high-pitched “Oh ho ho” laugh and obsessed over all things Moe—and way livelier than Haruhi’s cross-dressing father Ryoji “Ranka” Fujioka—came to their house unexpectedly on a Sunday morning—three days after her 5th birthday—and spoke very long and very much in earnest with them, carrying a whole bunch of gadgets and trinkets that she had never seen before and flaunting them proudly at them. Renge-sama was very well-known for making almost accurate predictions and having very high successful rates of matchmaking people, and was considered as one of the most important member of the high-society groups. It was no wonder her father seemed surprised and honoured that she would come all the way to make a house call.
She couldn’t understand much of what Renge-sama was talking about at that time (you can’t expect much from a 6-year-old), but she remembered watching every facial expression her father in the living room made while she pretended to be very interested with a storybook. First they looked happy, then concerned, then slightly distraught, and finally relenting, thanks to the matchmaker’s persuasive words. She quickly looked back at her book when her father turned to look at her, but she could tell from the atmosphere that things would never be the same again.
Since then, her father treated her like a princess. Despite their not-so-well-off background, he tried to give the best for her. She often got the bigger share of her meals and better clothes than he was wearing, despite Haruhi’s insistence to be self-reliant, and had her every whim and fancy met as best as possible. Even when she went out to do the groceries, people showed her with leveled respect and offered her the best they have in their stock. Passers-by and neighbours would greet her whenever she was outside reading her storybooks or playing with her pet dog and would occasionally drop by to present gifts to her and other household necessities to her family. Friends would be extremely nice to her and get her anything she’d asked for. And, as usual, Ranka would tell the same tale of the runaway Ouran Princess before she went to bed. Everything was well looked after and soon she was allowed to do anything she wanted, minimal chores included.
She didn’t understand it at first and took everything they gave for granted. But then, things began to change when she was 10 years old. Strange people started coming into her house to talk matters with her family and started taking her things away. When she asked why, Ranka avoided the question. Then he started to grow more and more distant. She continued to receive excellent treatment from him, but she began to feel like she was more of a VIP guest than of a daughter. He didn’t talk to her as much anymore and had stopped coming into her room to tuck her to bed and tell her the Princess’ story. More than often, she was required to stay in her room and only allowed out at the yard for at least two hours to catch some sun. She stopped going to school as the strange people arranged for a private tutor to educate her. More gifts continued to come in steadily by neighbours, family friends and relatives, which she could only observe through the crack of her door or at the window that had the view of her front yard. Her friends stopped coming to visit her after many days of being able to only talk to them behind the door, and more and more of those strange people came to take her things away, regarding her once in a while.
Haruhi felt alone. So alone that sometimes she would cry herself to sleep at night, especially whenever there is a thunderstorm. There was a huge thunderstorm when her mother passed away, so the fear of thunderstorms was deeply ingrained in her mind, forever unable to recover. Her father used to accompany her during the thunderstorms and tell the Princess’s story and sing her to sleep in his arms, but now, he didn’t even have the courtesy to at least pop his head into her room to see if she was alright.
She would give anything just to have at least one goodnight kiss and the Princess’ story from her father.
Finally, on the eve of her 16th birthday, Ranka popped her head through the door asking her to take a bath she had prepared for her. He had left her the most beautiful blue dress made of silk nicely hung outside the bathroom door, waiting to be worn after she bathed. When she was done, she was called for to dinner at the dining room, and when she got there, she discovered that Ranka had held a lavish feast for her. Thanks to the food given by the people in her village, for once, they got to eat a meal fit for a king. There was chicken, beef stew, boiled vegetables, potato soup, fish and custard cake set aside for dessert later. As usual, Haruhi got the biggest portion, and they were chatting merrily like a normal family again. Everyone looked happy and Haruhi was glad that whatever was going on, it was over and that things have finally come back to normal.
Just when she thought everything was the way it should be, it was not meant to be. When the clock struck at 8 o’clock sharp, there came a knocking on the door. Ranka immediately had a change of mood as soon as they heard the first knock. He quickly excused himself and went to the door to answer it. Standing outside were the strange people again. One of them, whom she remembered taking her dolls and storybooks away, remained at the door while the rest went up to gather whatever remaining things were left in her room to be put onto the carriage which was waiting patiently outside.
“Is she ready?” the strange man asked, his glimmering glasses accentuate his serious Shadow King face.
“Please. Just one more hour with her,” her father begged.
“We’ve made a deal, Mr. Fujioka. I assumed Renge-sama has gone over the specifics with you.”
“At least let her have a piece of cake. Tomorrow is her birthday.”
“Oto-san, what’s going on?” Haruhi asked worriedly. Her father remained quiet, a sad look hung on her face.
No one gave away anything. Haruhi continued to be left in the dark. And it still remained that way after the strange man allowed her father to have her biggest piece of cake and took her away as soon as he hugged her goodbye. Silence continued to hover around her as the strange man escorted her into the carriage and handed her one of her storybooks he had taken from her to read while it took her further and further away from her village and into the outback. She turned around to see most of the villagers coming out of their houses waving goodbye at her, her family being part of the crowd. She tried to ask the strange man where they were going and why her family was not coming with her, but he gave her a disconcerted look and adjusted his glasses, writing feverishly in his notebook. No one told her why and where they were taking here. Everything happened almost so fast that she had not the time to comprehend all this.
This was going to be a long ride.
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