The sky was overcast, and the air was a bit chilly; though the little green buds on the trees suggested that spring was almost there, winter was still refusing to die completely. A light breeze set the wind chime into a clattering frenzy as Kanako Satomi sipped her tea. The thick blanket draped around her kept her warm enough while she sat on her back porch. When she had been a young girl, she had always liked this time of year; the cold air was easier to breath and felt nice against her skin. Now that she was old, it made her bones ache.

So far, it had been a tranquil afternoon… but that atmosphere was shattered by the arrival of her granddaughter, Akira. Kanako could tell right away that the girl was in a bad mood, simply by the way she shut the door as she entered the house. Kanako was always telling her not to be so rough; it was an old house, after all…

Moments later, Akira flung open the sliding door that separated the sunroom from the kitchen, her usually calm face alive with fury. She leaned against the doorframe, panting to catch her breath, as if she had been running the entire way home. Her cheeks were flushing a dark pink color, and her short black hair was windblown.

"Good afternoon… Obaba-san…" she huffed.

"How was school?" Kanako asked.

"Horrible," Akira groaned, sinking down to join her grandmother at the kotatsu. She leaned forward, resting her chin on the table and closing her eyes.

Kanako sat her teacup down, "You're not still going on about that boy, are you?"

The young girl's face instantly turned sour, "I hate him."

"I don't understand why," she said. "From what you've told me, he seems like he's just trying to be nice."

"Well, he's not," Akira insisted. Kanako should have known better than to argue; once her granddaughter had her mind set on anything – and she meant anything – it took quite a bit of convincing to get her to change her opinion. "He's a huge prick; he's just being nice because he gets off on having people like him."

Kanako sighed, "If you really feel that way, why don't tell him to leave you alone from now on? Or you could avoid him, if it isn't worth the trouble."

"I can't do that!" Akira said, glaring up at the older woman. "If I tell him off, people will think I'm a huge bitch."

I wonder if she realizes how hypocritical she sounds right now, Kanako thought, sighing again. There was a reason women stopped having children at a certain age; being a guardian was utterly exhausting. She was getting too old for all this teenage drama…

But she loved Akira very much. When the girl's parents had called her, explaining Akira's situation and asking if the teen could stay with her until she completed high school, Kanako accepted the request without question. Akira was a smart girl, and it was nice to have company. After her husband had passed away, the old mansion had felt… empty. Akira had helped to fill that emptiness, even if she was a bit irritable at times.

"What did he do that's got you so upset?" Kanako asked.

"Remember when I borrowed his notes, so I could get caught up?" Akira asked, not waiting for conformation before continuing. "Well, I gave them back to him today."

"… And?"

"And he was like, thank you so much for returning these so quickly, Satomi-san. I hope these were helpful. So I said something like, Oh no, I should be the one thanking you for lending me these. I'd be hopelessly lost without them. But I was really thinking, You're so transparent and fake and I hate you. Oh, and I changed some things around in your notebook; have fun studying, jerk."

"You didn't really do that, did you?" Kanako asked. She had yet to figure out a good way to punish Akira; it seemed as though the girl had no qualms about telling her grandmother all of her sneaky, dirty tricks. Maybe she didn't think Kanako was in a position to punish her…?

"… Only a little," Akira said, averting her gaze. Good, she seemed to feel a little remorseful now. That was punishment enough. "He's smart enough that he'll be able to figure out that it's wrong."

"He's smart, he was kind enough to lend you those notes, and he's widely regarded as being very handsome," Kanako said. "My good friend Namamoto-san says that her granddaughter is a first year at your school, and she's completely smitten with him. What is it about him that inspires such hatred in you, Akira-chan?"

"Like I've been saying this whole time; he's a total fake," Akira said. "No one's like that in real life. And I can tell he thinks he's better than me. Well, as soon as our next exams come around, I'll show him! I'll be at the top of our class, even if I have to spend all of my time studying!"

You still have so much to learn about real life, Kanako thought, rubbing Akira's shoulder. She was always amazed at how stiff the girl was. It was like Akira never relaxed, not even at home.

"I'm going up to my room," Akira said, letting out a long, tired sigh before she stood, straightening the knee-length blue skirt of her sailor style uniform. "Can you call me when dinner is ready?"

"Yes," Kanako said, nodding. "I'll get that started as soon as I finish my tea. Is there anything you would like?"

"I don't care," she mumbled, slumping back inside with her schoolbag dangling loosely from her thin fingers. Even from behind, Akira looked exhausted.

"People these days say that children don't know the meaning of hard work," Kanako said to herself as she went back to her tea. "Whoever came up with that foolish notion never met my Akira-chan…"

Akira stomped up the stairs, making sure to put plenty of emphasis on each step. Maybe physically asserting her aggression on the staircase would make her feel better.

It didn't, of course, and she was still just as frustrated by the time she made it up to her bedroom. Frowning, she set her bag by the door and wandered over to her bed, collapsing on the mattress with a muffled groan.

She had been living in her grandmother's estate for about a month, and she still wasn't used to her new room. The wallpaper was dark and the overhead light was dull, making the room seem more like a shadowy lair than the bedroom of a seventeen year old girl. Her posters and wall hangings – most of them made by her older sister – did little to brighten the room, and her collection of kappa plushies looked out of place with the decor.

"I really hate that guy," she muttered, tugging her favorite kappa close for some comfort. "I really, really hate him."

Ever since she had begun elementary school, Akira had been a stellar student. Studying was the only natural talent she had to speak of; being a model student had been the only niche she had ever needed, or wanted.

When that… embarrassing mishap with the student council elections took place at the end of her second year, Akira decided to take the easy way out and transfer to another high school. None of her old friends were speaking to her anymore anyway; she might as well get a fresh start. Besides, her new school was a public one. Being at the top of her class there should have been easy, and impressing all of the country bumpkins should have been even easier.

But no. From day one he had been standing in her way. Perfect grades, attractive, and good at sports. Even the boys seemed to like him!

It was hopeless, she knew. While she could hope to rival him in smarts, her physical skills left much to be desired. Akira knew she wasn't an unattractive person, by any means, but she wasn't beautiful in the same way he was.

"Damn him," she muttered, fighting off the urge to burst into tears. It just wasn't fair! "Damn you, Yuki Sohma!"

Calm down, Akira, she thought, rubbing the bridge of her nose as she took a deep breath. This is just what he's trying to do; get you so worked up that you lose your wits. And if that happens, he wins!

"I should just do what Obaba-san said, try to avoid him," she told herself. "Don't let it get to me. I'll only be stuck at this hick school for a year, anyway. And besides… I have something more important to think about."

Unable to keep herself from grinning, Akira rolled over in bed, her gaze instantly resting on a small pile of books on her nightstand. Since middle school, she had been obsessed with the writings of the novelist Ichiro Katomori. My Life on a Paper Boat had been her favorite book from the moment she picked it up, but everything that came out of that man's pen was genius. In fact, it was a secondary character in the novel Love Never Sleeps in Nagasaki that had inspired her to buy the antique typewriter that was now sitting on her desk. Because of Ichiro Katomori, Akira had discovered what she wanted to do with her life.

She wanted to be a novelist. She wanted to write beautiful stories about life and love. She wanted her voice to be heard, even if it was only by a few people.

And now he was coming to the local book store, to do a signing in celebration of his latest publication, I Wouldn't Eat That if I Were You, a collection of satirical short stories. Akira couldn't fathom why Katomori-sensei wanted to come all the way out into the middle of nowhere to do a signing, but regardless, she wasn't going to miss it for the world.

"Tomorrow is going to be the best day of my life," Akira promised herself, only realizing how overly dramatic those words sounded after she had spoken them. She quickly pushed that thought out of her mind; it wasn't being overly dramatic if it was true. "And I will not let Yuki Sohma put me in a bad mood."