A/N: Thank you to everyone who stuck with this story for seven long years. It's hard for me to let this story go, but I'm so glad I was able to complete it. I hope you enjoy the epilogue, and if you are following Fragments, I hope to have a new chapter out soon.

04.08.98

ETERNAL OURAN: AN EPILOGUE OF SORTS

By S. Tenjo

'I'll never forget the wonderful times we shared, and I can't wait to have more when you come back.

I have faith in you, and I love you.

That is absolute.'

So ends the blog of one Fujioka Haruhi, a teenage girl whose extraordinary story sounds more like the plot of a shojo manga than an autobiographical account.

And yet, while at the time it must've seemed fantastic, the advent of artificial intelligence in daily life casts a new light on this whimsical little tale.

For those who care to know (most likely none of you) my name is Soshi Tenjo, I am a full-time delivery man for Ouran Corporation and a part-time starving writer. I began this article some time ago when I first came across a reupload of Haruhi's blog (note: the original upload was lost following the collapse of the site it was hosted on). It was recommended to me by an online friend who, rather foolishly, described it as one of the best ARGs they'd ever read. All while their father's android maid dusted the tables in the background, but I digress.

Her account of the months she spent in the company of Ouran Co. lover figures was not new to me. In fact, I first came into this story from a much different perspective. What reading Haruhi's blog did was put a particular incident at my job into new context, and had me crying like a baby on my wife's shoulder all night. I started outlining this article the very next day.

Unfortunately, after several weeks of editing and rewriting, I wasn't making any real progress. Everyone I showed it to thought it looked fine, but I had this lingering sense that something was missing. I was ready to shelve the project entirely, but before we get into that, I have to tell you what happened after Fujioka Haruhi finished her blog.

Now, I am writing under the assumption that most if not all of my readers are familiar with the story. If you're not, I'd like to ask that you follow the link in the description below and at least skim through all thirty-seven entries. It's a bit of a time commitment, I know, but trust me when I say it's completely worth it. That and there's no way you'll get the full impact of this article without knowing what came before it.

Everyone else good? Okay then. Here we go...

So one night, approximately seven years ago, I got a text that there was an emergency at work and I had to come in immediately. At the time, I'd been on the job for only a couple of weeks and I had no idea there even was an emergency system. It got me out of bed at two in the morning. My wife woke up to ask me where I was going, and when I told her it was work, she called my boss a nasty word I won't repeat, then rolled over and went back to sleep. One of the many things I love about her (and no that's not sarcasm).

When I arrived, it was a madhouse. The alert message had given me no information about what was going on. I just knew all hands were needed and to be prepared to use deadly force if necessary.

Let me remind you, I drive a truck for a living.

Now, I don't actually have a big part in this story. I was still new and hadn't earned my spot in the group yet. I got my orders to search a certain block downtown and report back with any sign of a rogue robotic. There were six targets in total.

As I returned to my truck with a head full of visions of my bed and my beautiful wife in said bed, overheard my coworkers talking.

"You think it might be The Six?"

"Those first generation bots? Couldn't be."

"I don't know man. This whole thing is pretty suspicious to me."

"Oh come on, you guys don't really believe that old story, do you?"

"Dude, The Six are real. I definitely saw them in the basement once."

"Sure you did, Taka. All that sake you drink on the weekends had nothing to do with it."

At the time, I didn't know what they were talking about. I'd already heard all the ghost stories of Ouran Co. (my favorite is the one about the programmer scorned by her lover whose vengeful spirit now lives in the circuit board and causes blackouts on the weekends), but The Six was something else entirely.

They were also completely real, despite what that one guy said.

The story as I heard it is that they were prototype lover figures sold to a wealthy widow. They were accidentally shipped to a different person with the same name thanks to some critical errors during the shipping process. I'm pretty sure this is why we're subjected to quadruple checks of everything before we're allowed to hit the road. I wish I could meet whoever made that mistake and 'thank' him.

Anyway, they found all six figures a few months later living with the incorrect recipient. At that point, they'd grown attached to her and didn't want to leave. And believe it or not, the widow agreed to give them up. They got to stay with that other girl and she didn't have to pay a cent.

Now, if you've read Haruhi's blog, as I sincerely hope you have at this point, you'll know this stuff already. At the time of the breakout, I didn't. As far as I knew, a group of unprogrammed androids had gotten loose in the city and needed to be rounded up before they hurt someone.

I was not the one who found them. The area I searched was roughly half a town away from where they were located. A senior driver who'd been with the company longer than I've been alive tracked them down. He retired later that year and got a big fat bonus check to go with his new wristwatch.

It was nearing five in the morning when I got the call that the rogue bots had been located and we'd be getting a half day off with pay for our troubles. All I cared about was going home and how much I regretted not taking that department store job.

I didn't find out what happened until a few months later. By now, I'd been accepted into the fold and got to meet some interesting characters working for Ouran Co. One of them, who has requested to remain anonymous, I will call Shiro. Shiro is a researcher and technician in charge of mobility. If a robot can make a fist or nod their head, you have him and his team to thank. He's also a bit of an amateur spy, or so he says. His supposed claim to fame is hacking the prime minister's official website to fix a typo on their About page. Note the 'supposed' because he also says he coined the phrase 'lol'.

Regardless, he came into the employee lounge one day, saying he had something to show us. I should also mention that Shiro is a bleeding heart who cries at Disney movies. This'll make sense later.

Here's a quick rundown of what we knew: The Six were incubated after falling into an indefinite shutdown. The hope was that one day, new software would be created allowing them to be revived. Those hopes were realized, and then they bolted. No one knew where they were going or what they were looking for. Most of the people who could've answered those questions are long gone.

As we huddled inside Shiro's 'secret' video room, he played us a tape stolen from a camera set up at the address where The Six were found. Prior to writing this article, it had been years since I saw it. Fortunately, Shiro keeps a detailed archive of videos on his personal computer. It took a lot of begging and a few thousand yen shaved off my next paycheck, but I got the file.

The following is a full transcription of both the audio and visual. I'm sorry I can't include the video itself. Shiro was adamant that I not share it with anyone. That was his one condition and I have to honor it.

Now, let me tell you what happened when Haruhi Fujioka and The Six reunited.

The video is taken from a surveillance camera mounted to the far left corner of the ceiling. We have a bird's eye view of Haruhi, asleep in her bed. The room is cramped but cozy. A nightstand next to her bed shows several framed photos, but it's too far away to see what they are. A small stack of books is neatly sorted with the bigger ones on the bottom and the smallest on top.

A TV is turned on to commercials. When they end a movie is playing. It's on mute and remains that way for the duration of the clip. At roughly forty-two seconds in, there is a slight disruption outside the door. Voices are muffled, but they appear to be mostly male. What sounds like a woman saying 'you can't go in there…' is heard at fifty seconds.

The door opens at one minute and three seconds. Haruhi doesn't stir. One by one, six young men resembling human teenagers enter the room. They are led by a blonde and rounded out by a dark-haired man far taller than the rest. No words have been exchanged at this point. They surround Haruhi's bed. From this angle, only the blonde's face can be clearly seen. He looks at Haruhi like he wants to cry, but also like he's never been happier in his life.

He kneels at her side, playing with her hair a bit before nudging her.

"Haruhi," he says. "Wake up. It's us."

She mumbles but doesn't stir. The blonde looks to the man to his right, dark-haired and bespectacled. He nods, presumably urging the blonde on.

"Haruhi," he says again.

At one minute and thirty-two seconds, Haruhi Fujioka opens her eyes. She holds a hand to her face, adjusting to the sudden burst of light. It can be assumed she's not used to being awake at this time. She lifts her head and goes pale as she takes in all six of them at once. Her mouth is agape. Again, no one speaks. It's all quiet outside the door and nobody will be coming in until much later.

She sighs. "I'm having that dream again."

The two redheads at the foot of her bed lean their entire upper bodies on either side of her legs. They look like a pair of cats desperate for attention.

"Haruhi, come on," the one on the left says.

"We're way better than any dream," says the one on the right.

Haruhi rubs her eyes. She squints hard but she still isn't convinced this is really happening.

"No, it can't be," she says. "You've been gone all this time and I…"

She stops herself like she's afraid to finish. It has been close to a full minute and she hasn't blinked once. The blonde takes her hand and kisses it.

My fair Haruhi, we have journeyed far to find you. We've traversed mountains-"

"No, we didn't," the one in glasses interjects.

"Swam the English channel-"

"No."

"Fought all manner of hideous beast-"

"Well, Hunny and Mori did clothesline those guards and throw them in the broom closet."

"All to rescue you from your loneliness and, if you will it, receive your favor."

Haruhi stares at them for close to forty-five seconds. One would be forgiven for thinking the video froze for how little anyone moves until a cry bursts from Haruhi's throat. Her fingers reach weakly for the blonde's face, running across his smooth skin. Then she throws herself at him. This is a cue for all of them to engulf her in what has to be the biggest, hardest, wettest group hug in recorded history. Every one of them is crying and saying her name. She is saying theirs. It's a mess I couldn't hope to transcribe properly, but I'm sure you get the idea.

"Tamaki," she says. "Kyoya… Hikaru… Kaoru… Hunny… Mori… you're all really here. At last..."

"I'm sorry it wasn't sooner," says Kyoya. "We ran into some trouble along the way."

"You don't live in your apartment anymore, Haru-chan," says Hunny.

Haruhi takes in a lungful of air. She almost coughs as she lets it out. "No, I haven't for a long time. It's been… such a long time."

She brings her wrinkled hands to her face as snow-white hair falls over her eyes. She was never tall, and her body has shrunken with age. If she were still capable of standing, she'd just barely see over Hunny's head. Yet with these ageless androids looking at her like she's a goddess incarnate, one could easily believe it's true.

"Looks like we missed quite a bit." Tamaki has picked up one of Haruhi's photos. We can now see that it's of a thirty-something Haruhi with two children in her arms. The one next to it is also visible; seven young people in a plain blue frame. "You've lived a full life."

"I did my best," Haruhi says. She coughs and Hikaru seems to conjure a water cup out of nowhere. She dranks it down. "I wanted to have a lot of stories for you guys."

"And we want to hear all of them," Tamaki says.

"We would tell you a few of our own, but we've mostly just been unconscious," Kaoru shrugs.

"It was pretty boring," says Hikaru. "And we found your blog, by the way."

Haruhi looks like she'd rather talk about her first kiss than go any further. "Oh, not that old thing."

"Don't say that. It was lovely!" Tamaki says, taking her hands. "Though I was certainly not that overdramatic."

Hikaru snorts. "This from Mr. Swam the English Channel?"

"Be quiet, doppelganger!"

They shoot each other angry glares, but nothing more comes of it. Haruhi has their complete attention and everything else is secondary.

"Your blog was great, Haru-chan," says Hunny, "but it was sad at the end."

"I know," Haruhi says. "I was going for optimism, but I never stopped missing you. I never stopped hoping that one day, we'd be together again."

"We are, Haruhi," says Kyoya. Listening to him and examining his body language, I don't think he's accustomed to sentiment. As the cool model, he is meant to be stoic and domineering. Vulnerability does not come naturally to his type, but I guess that's just another stamp of Haruhi. "The time has come."

"Yeah," says Mori. He steps up for the first time to rub the top of her head. He appears to be smiling, but with the angle, it's hard to say for sure.

"So that's it," she says like she doesn't dare hope it's true. "You're back for good?"

They crowd around her, careful not to mess with the wires connected to her wrists and heart monitor. She's delicate in more ways than one, and thin enough that another ten pounds off would render her a skeleton.

"For good," Tamaki says. He is facing Haruhi and is not visible to the camera again for the rest of the video. We can only imagine what he looks like as he kisses her forehead. "We'll never leave you again, Haruhi. This is forever."

They hold her for ten minutes. The deep wrinkles in Haruhi's face relax as she closes her eyes and lays still. Nobody moves until the door is once more opened and an army of private security officers, all bearing the Ouran co. logo on their jackets and led by a senior driver, step inside and call for an end to all recording in the room.

The final thing of note before the video cuts out is Haruhi's face. She looks eighty years younger.

Haruhi Fujioka died at the age of ninety-five, surrounded by six young men who meant the world to her. She'd spent her adult life fighting for the weak inside a courtroom. She had a family, friends, and the respect of her peers. The death certificate stated the cause of death as natural causes. I believe she'd simply crossed the last item off on her bucket list, and there was nothing left for her to do but move on to the next life with her friends at her side.

The Six were found to be unresponsive upon examination. At first, it was believed this was merely an internal error or a tribute to their lost friend. Their story gained a new layer when they were brought back to HQ and it was found that their systems had been completely erased. All data had been purged from their hard drives, even the backup programming. Nothing could be retrieved and most of the necessary tools to fix them have been out of production for fifty years.

They had become little more than inanimate objects, and thus, they joined Haruhi Fujioka in death.

Together forever, just like Tamaki said.

My first draft of this article ended right there. Kind of a sour note when you think about it. That's a big part of what made me put it aside. Shiro cried like a baby when Haruhi took her final breath, and I'll admit, it got to me, too. I've always liked happy endings best, and while this particular ending is more bittersweet than sad (depending on your beliefs), it wasn't sweet enough to counteract the bitter.

If it's enough for you, this might be a good place to stop reading. I hope you won't, though, because last week, I saw something extraordinary.

My daughter and I were taking a walk through the park. It was midday and, as a rambunctious child of three and a half, she has to run around and explore everything or her heart will explode. Note that these are her words, not mine.

We stopped at the playground and I pushed her on the swings a bit. I don't normally pay attention to the other children unless my daughter wants to play with them. Today, she was more interested in breaking the 'super best swinger ever' record. One of her friends from pre-school is the current title holder.

She took a quick juice break, and that was when I fell into the old standby time killer of people watching. I noted a man and a woman in the middle of a breakup. He cheated on her and then she cheated on him. Then he cheated on her with the man she cheated on him with. If I were that kind of writer, it would've been a goldmine, but that was nothing compared to the group I spotted on the monkey bars.

Seven children took turns trying to make it across to the slide. Only a tall dark-haired boy had made it so far. He was joined by a remarkably tiny boy with sandy blonde hair. A pair of redheads roshamboed to see which of them would go next, and in the meantime, a second blonde took the bars and was three-quarters of the way there when his hands slipped and he fell a treacherous two feet back to earth.

The redheads doubled over laughing. The blonde boy cried and chased them around the jungle gym. A boy with glasses and a book under his arm refused to go, so a little girl with long brown hair made the climb. She made it halfway and then gave up. I don't think it mattered to her as much as it did the rest of her friends. They regrouped under the shade of a large tree and got out a box of cookies. The sandy-haired boy ate his with the fervor of a dying man, but all of them savored their treats and grinned with chocolate-stained teeth as they decided what game to play next.

I watched them even after my daughter grabbed my hand and demanded I get on the seesaw with her. As we rocked up and down, I couldn't stop staring at those kids. I never heard their names, never found out if they were related or if their moms knew each other. I have no reason to believe they hadn't just met that day. I have no reason whatsoever to think they have anything to do with the story I just told you.

My mother came from a family of Buddhists. She herself is big on new age spirituality. They all believe strongly in reincarnation. Until we reach a state of Nirvana, my grandparents said, we will always return to this earth for another try.

Sometimes, my mother says, we bring the people we love most with us.

Is it true? I don't know.

Was Haruhi's wish to always be with her friends granted in her next life? I don't know.

I hope so.

Haruhi Fujioka was a normal girl in a remarkable situation. She took six robots- six wild animatronics who made her life hell and then showed her heaven- and she gave them their souls.

In the last sentence of her final entry, she told Tamaki, Kyoya, Hikaru, Kaoru, Hunny, and Mori that she loved them. That her love was absolute.

If you take anything at all from her story, let it be that.

Real love, whether between family, friends, or lovers, is absolute.

Real love is eternal.

Thank you all for reading.

THE END