Hey guys!

I'm very excited to be sharing this story with you. It is based on the manga Hajimari no Niina, and I love how well it plays with Jace and Clary's story. It will not follow the plot of the manga, but the base is very similar.

It will be told in both Clary's pov and Jace's pov. And this is NOT a reincarnation story to help clear things up. You'll see as the story goes along.

More information about how I'm going to update this story is down below, but for now enjoy the chapter!

Chapter One

Her mother had outdone herself this time.

Clary's eyes almost rolled back in bliss as she took another bite of the sandwich that her mother had prepared for her that day. Clary knew her mom was an amazing chef, but this… She made such a simple thing as a sandwich so ridiculously delicious, it was unbelievable.

No one seemed to pay much attention to the small redhead as she sat on a bench on the campus quadrangle, and nothing could distract her from the pure joy she was feeling. What could be better than ditching class to enjoy the mild weather and this sandwich? Certainly not the boring, completely unnecessary math discussion that Clary was supposed to be in, the same one that Isabelle was currently sitting through.

Clary nearly got goosebumps at the thought, not looking forward to when Isabelle got out of class and came to scold her. She tried not to dwell on that too long however, letting herself get lost in the beautiful scenery and her delicious food. The quad was ablaze with color, the trees lining the central grassy area different hues of red, orange and yellow.

Still, overall it was too bleak. The trees were nice, but Clary missed the sun. Everything just seemed more gray as a result of the blanket of clouds that covered the sky. The artist in her longed for the bright, vibrant shades of summer when everybody just seemed happier.

A light fall breeze rustled the leaves lying crumpled on the ground under the feet of passerby, a sign of winter looming over the late October day. Clary shivered a little, not looking forward to the cold becoming worse. She had hated winter, and the icy slick roads that came with it, ever since the accident.

"Clary?"

A familiar voice rang through the buzz of the students moving from one class to the next. She knew what was coming the moment she identified the voice as Isabelle's. After debating whether or not she wanted to answer, Clary looked up from her sandwich, slightly annoyed and slightly afraid, to see Isabelle coming towards her, arms crossed and expression miffed.

It wasn't like this was a surprise; Clary had known Isabelle would be miffed. Isabelle was always miffed whenever Clary ditched class, insisting that school was boring enough without having to face it completely alone. Whenever Clary pointed out that there were thirty or so other people in the class, Isabelle just lifted her nose to the sky and loftily informed her that thirty strangers were not a suitable replacement for Clary.

"So why didn't you come to class today, missus?" Isabelle asked pointedly, setting her things down on the bench and sitting next to Clary. Her tone had taken on that of an upset mother and Clary had to fight back laughter. Isabelle Lightwood was far from motherly.

Isabelle saw her poor attempt to conceal her giggles and crossed her legs as if to prove she was being serious, her expression turning even more upset. "I'm not kidding," she insisted. "You actually really missed out today."

"I don't think I missed out on much Isabelle, no matter how riveting the fundamental theorem of calculus is," Clary scoffed. She had to admit that math was not her strong suit, but she just wasn't feeling sitting in a two hour discussion with the most monotone TA in existence spewing out everything she had already been taught at lecture. If there was anything Clary hated, it was redundancy.

"I'm not talking about the math, though you really should be going to these discussions. They're there to help people like you actually learn the material." Isabelle informed her, tossing her hair behind her shoulder as she usually did when mildly bothered. Isabelle was much more compatible with math and science subjects than Clary was and constantly chided Clary for her lack of interest in bettering herself in those areas. Clary usually commented on how she could say the same for Isabelle and literature, but she held herself back this time. No need to make an already angry Isabelle angry and murderous.

Clary was only moderately annoyed at the people like you comment, more distracted by what Isabelle was talking about. How exciting can anything that happens in a freshman math class be? "What do you mean, not the math?" she asked, brushing aside the comment in favor of getting more information. "What happened today?"

Isabelle's annoyed look broke into a smirk. "We got a new TA. The other guy apparently had a nervous breakdown and said he couldn't teach anymore. Or at least, that's what people are saying." She shrugged indifferently.

Although Clary heaved a massive sigh of relief for being free of the horrendous monotone, she wasn't sure how this was so intensely exciting. "That doesn't really make me want to go to class anymore than usual, Iz." Clary didn't think she'd enjoy a math class even if it was taught by Kim Kardashian, though that definitely would have made for an interesting story.

Isabelle rolled her eyes. "You will want to go once you see the new one though," she assured her slyly. "Even you would be able to appreciate him." Isabelle nudged Clary with her elbow, wagging her eyebrows.

This time, it was Clary's turn to roll her eyes. "He's probably what, in his thirties?" She snorted a little. "I highly doubt I'm going to be any more attracted to him than I am to this sandwich." She held up the sandwich that still waited, agonizingly half-eaten in her hand, as if to prove her point. Although, now that she thought about it again, she was in fact feeling very much attracted to this particular sandwich, especially to the thought of continuing to eat it…

Isabelle thought for a moment, and the emotion behind her eyes shifted. Something about Isabelle's expression made Clary think she was lost in some faraway place. "No," she said eventually, "he's not thirty. He's the same age as my brother."

Her voice had taken on a somber tone, although Clary could not imagine why. Instead of trying to fathom the reason behind it, she just waited for an explanation and continued to eat her sandwich while she still had the chance.

"My brother used to know him, actually. They went to high school together. So he's what, twenty-eight?" Isabelle turned towards Clary. The far-off look melted a little at the sight of the lettuce that was sticking out of Clary's mouth. She raised an eyebrow and shook her head slightly in disapproval.

Clary finished chewing before answering, afraid of getting another scolding. "Used to know? He's not friends with him anymore?" she asked, noting the deliberate use of past tense.

"No, not really." Isabelle's tone had gotten even more bleak, and her expression turned sad. "He was dating this girl at the time, and it was pretty serious. They had been dating since middle school, about five years. They were both eighteen and had just entered college too, but an accident happened and his girlfriend ending up dying." She paused for a moment as they both let the gravity of the fact sink in a bit. "I guess he didn't handle it very well, because he didn't keep in touch with anyone after that. Not even my brother, and they were like, best friends."

Oh.

Clary hadn't expected any of that, but she knew just how bad it felt to lose loved ones in an accident.

She knew all too well.

The year following the accident she had practically been shut away in her room, refusing to meet even her closest friends, barely eating, barely doing anything other than sketching in the art book her father had bought her a few months prior. It remained like that for what seemed like centuries until her mother finally got it through to Clary that life always moved on, and that she would have to move on with it.

Memories that she longed to suppress sparked yet again in her mind. She worked hard to keep herself from going back to that moment, from seeing the blaring lights come toward the car that she, her brother and her father had been in. From hearing the frightening sound of metal crunching, bending, and ripping as the impact slammed into them.

She kept herself from remembering what else had happened that night, that she had told nobody else.

Instead, she refocused on what Isabelle was saying and emptied her head of the still too clear images. "Did you know who she was, Iz?" Clary asked, for lack of anything else to say.

"No." Isabelle shook her head, then went back into deep thought for a few seconds. It seemed to be a common theme of the day for her. "Actually, I saw her a few times when he came to hang out with my brother. She'd come along sometimes. But I never really talked to her, you know?"

Clary's interest in this new TA rose a little. Something about the story Isabelle had just relayed spoke to her, and she felt a sort of kinship with this man she had never even met. Maybe she'd actually bother going to discussion after all, if nothing more than to satisfy her curiosity. "And exactly how cute is this TA?" she asked in a mockingly serious tone, hoping to lighten the mood a little. The chilly, gray weather was already enough of a mood kill.

"Very." To Clary's delight, Isabelle smirked a little. "He was attractive in high school, and now he's just drop-dead, marry-me-right-now gorgeous. Though, I'm not sure how interested he would be in a munchkin like you."

"I, and all the other munchkins in this world, take great offense." Clary playfully turned away from Isabelle, crossing her arms over her chest and putting on her best "I'm offended as hell" face.

Isabelle giggled and got up, gathering her things. "Alright, let's go. You should at least make it to one class today. I don't want to be the one to have to tell your mother why you failed your first semester of college," she warned her, only really half-joking. Clary stuck her tongue out at her friend but let herself be dragged off the bench, tossing her sandwich wrapper in the trash as she passed by.

"What's this guy's name?" Clary asked, genuinely curious. It seemed as if this new TA shared at least one major common experience with her, and Clary couldn't help but relate with his.

"Jace. Jace Herondale." Isabelle replied casually.

Clary stopped dead in her tracks, abruptly unable to move.

Isabelle disappeared from view. The scenery changed, and Clary wasn't on the quad anymore. The weather turned sunny and warm, the leaves clearing away to reveal bright green grass and kids playing around in what seemed to be a park.

Something golden was standing right in front of her, stretching out a hand. It was a pianist's hand, tanned, slim and strong. And Clary took it, as if she had been doing so for as long as she could remember…

"Clary! Clary what's wrong with you?" Isabelle asked, shaking Clary's shoulders furiously.

"What…?" Clary looked around dazedly, feeling motion flow back into her limbs. She felt the cold breeze against her cheek again. Isabelle was looking concernedly into her eyes, and she couldn't really manage to do anything but stare back for a moment. Clary glanced around, relieved to see the same familiar quad surrounding her once more. A few people had stopped a couple feet away to see what was going on, alarmed by Isabelle's frantic tone.

"Are you alright? You weren't responding to anything I was saying. You just…stood there." Isabelle said, letting go of Clary's shoulders. When she saw that a small crowd had gathered, she shot a look at some of the people who had stopped to stare. "She's fine, thanks for checking," she announced to nobody in particular, her tone not particularly sincere. They quickly dispersed, not overly keen to get more attitude from Izzy.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Clary assured her, blinking hard for a moment to rid herself of the weird, disorienting vision. "I don't know what happened, my mind suddenly wandered. I guess I was thinking too hard about what happened to this guy." Clary paused, trying to brush it off as much as she could.

She decided not to mention that something like this had happened before.

Isabelle studied her face for a few seconds. Clary gave her the best smile she could muster, fearful of any more questions. Isabelle knew exactly what Clary had gone through. She had been one of the first people to help break Clary out of the shell she had hidden inside, and understood how painful the memories were to her. Maybe she would believe that Clary was just really touched by this man's story.

"Alright. If you say so." She didn't look completely convinced, but at least the questions had stopped. "Come on. We're going to be late."

"Mom! I'm home!" Clary called as she turned the key in the lock and stepped into her house. One of the main benefits she got from going to college in the city was being able to stay home and eat her mom's food whenever she wanted. Sure, she would have enjoyed living in a dorm away from the parental restrictions, but no amount of partying could make up for the crappy dorm food she was sure to encounter. She set her bag on the kitchen countertop, inhaling deeply to catch the wonderful scent of her mom's baking.

"Hey sweetie, how were classes?" her mother asked as she popped out of her studio and into the kitchen, wiping off her paint-stained hands on her apron. Nothing could keep Jocelyn Fray from her studio: she not only painted professionally, but almost religiously as a pastime.

You mean, 'how was the one class you attended today?' Clary sighed, "They were boring as usual."

Her mother gave her a look that oddly resembled the one Isabelle had given her earlier when she scolded her for skipping. "That's not the attitude you should have, Clary. Try to enjoy them a little," she suggested, going to clean up her hands more thoroughly in the sink.

Clary sank down into a chair at the table. "Mom, you know how much I enjoy learning and whatnot. I practically thirst for knowledge." Clary widened her eyes in mock excitement, then broke down and giggled as she got another of the same look from her mother.

"Well, forget all that," her mom sighed, giving up for the moment. "I made you some apple pie today. I'll just let it reheat in the oven for a few minute." Clary tried to focus on her mother as she moved about, but the vision was slipping…

The view in front of her changed again, the kitchen morphing into another one just as familiar to her as her own. She was sitting at a different table, yet it seemed as if she had been sitting there every day for years. There was a different woman calling out to her with a voice she had been hearing from her birth, but it was not the mother Clary recognized. But at the same time, it was.

"Samara, I made apple pie for you today!"

Clary felt herself respond, as if it were the most natural thing to do. "Oh, thanks Mom! Can I have some ice cream with it too?"

The woman turned to smile at her, and she felt all the motherly affection she felt from her own mother in that smile. "Of course, Samara."

"Clary? Honey, what's wrong?" Her mother was leaning over the chair across from Clary, a worried look in her eyes.

Clary smiled as quickly as she could, blinking to clear out the other woman's voice from her head. "Sorry, I was thinking about something that happened in lecture today," she said quickly, trying hard to appear natural. "What were you saying?"

Her mother paused for a moment before answering, giving her a long look. "I was just telling you about the pie," she said slowly. "What happened in lecture that caused you to space out like that?"

"I don't think it's appropriate enough to tell you, Mom," Clary said with a smirk, hoping her answer was enough to put off her mother from asking any further.

"Well, alright… the pie's going to take a few more minutes to heat up, so why don't you go wash up first?" her mother suggested, letting the subject go.

"Yeah, I think I'll go do that," Clary said as she retrieved her bag from the counter. She tried hard to refrain from bolting up the stairs.

She splashed her face with water and looked at her reflection in her mirror. The same pale green eyes that received so many compliments when she was younger stared back at her. Her hair, the bright red shade it had always been lay in the same disheveled curly mess that she had long ago learned to accept.

Nothing about her had physically changed. Clary thought back to the time of the accident ten years ago, a night that left her without a father or a brother but with a strange story she could never tell anybody else, and wondered if she really was the same person she was before.

Her mother had warned their father to drive carefully; the snow that had fallen just a few hours prior had frozen and turned the roads slick and dangerous. He had waved her off, telling her he had driven in countless New York winters, and knew exactly what lay ahead.

The roads were mostly empty, and Jonathan and Clary had been bickering since entering the vehicle. Clary, thinking she was old enough now to sit in the front seat next to her dad, had thrown a tantrum when he had gone in favor of Jonathan sitting next to him and leaving Clary alone in the back. This was, of course, all to Jonathan's delight, who enjoyed being just old enough to do all the things his younger sister couldn't.

Their bickering had stopped, however, when headlights began shining in front of them. At first, Clary thought they were passing under a particularly brightly lit highway, but when she looked closer, she saw that a truck had skidded out of its lane on the other side of the road and was heading straight for the car. She could remember screaming as her father tried to jerk the car in the opposite direction, but the impact was unavoidable…

…but the impact never happened. When Clary opened her eyes next, she was no longer in a car, but standing at the side of a road in front of a crosswalk. She was no longer her eight year old self, but someone older and more mature. She looked across the street to see a figure waving at her, a figure she recognized very well.

She smiled. All she wanted to do at that point was run towards the figure: she had good news for him. She started running across the crosswalk, her eyes trained on the golden hair that she knew was soft and silky to the touch, the warm gold eyes that she could get lost in on any given day…

"Samara!" A scream ripped from the golden boy's mouth, his expression turned horrified. She slowed down, confused. Why was he calling out her name? She turned to look and saw, just a second before it hit her, the car flying way too fast on the ice-coated roads toward her. All she could think to do was turn back to her golden boy, see those golden eyes one last time.

Clary gasped. It had been a long time since she had let herself revisit that night. To this day, she couldn't explain what had happened, why she had suddenly been somewhere she had no reason to be with memories that were not hers. The eight-year-old Clary had been too scared to tell her mother about it while her mother was already suffering the pain of losing two of her family.

The older Clary got, the more she wrote it off as hallucination, a trick her mind had played on her to cope with what it knew was about to happen. Nothing else made sense, after all.

But she questioned that now.

Why are those visions coming again? Clary was frightened by the fact that they seemed more like memories than they did dreams, as if she had lived through them once before.

And that name. Samara.

She had identified herself with that name in the visions, as if the name was referencing her directly. It felt natural to respond. Normal. Familiar.

Clary stared into the wide green eyes reflected back at her in the mirror. "I was Clary Fray before the accident," she murmured, watching herself nod in confirmation, "and I'm still Clary Fray now." She watched herself nod again.

But somehow, she wasn't completely sure that she wasn't lying to herself.

Whoever herself was.

And that's chapter one!

A few notes: this story will not be regularly updated until I have the story completely written and edited. It seems that was the main issue I ran into with my other stories, since lack of time and other major changes made me drop them midway. At least this way no one will be disappointed by my late updates!

That being said, I'll still put up a chapter here and there since I am getting pretty far into it.

To my old readers, sorry for disappearing for so long again. I graduated among other things so I've still been adjusting! But I'm excited to start again, especially with this story.

Please leave a review telling me what you think! I'd love to hear your opinions ^^

Yours,

~A.W.W