Disclaimer: I don't own PoT.

This is a new story and it may be loosely related to the other story I already have posted; I'll be working on both at the same time. I'll try to keep everyone in character. All reviews and favorites would be greatly appreciated and I'll personally respond to all comments!

I looked back while I strolled through the gate and lightly touched the cherry blossom that my grandmother had tucked into my auburn locks as I held back tears. It was my last day in the US. Smoothing down my cerulean sundress, I turned my head forward and looked ahead. I knew I would be a foreigner, ostracized for both my looks and characteristics, and I doubted I would fit in. I wasn't ready. I would never be ready.

I looked left and right, looking for my seat. 11H. My favorite number and letter put together. Stowing my duffel bag overhead, I perched uncomfortably on my cushioned seat and peered out the window. The familiar green of Portland stared back at me for the last time and a single tear escaped the binds of my lower eyelid. I sniffled and wiped it away.

Stay positive. Stay positive. Stay positive. I chanted the mantra over and over again in my head. I heard the not-so-delicate rustle of clothes as someone plopped down in the seat next to me. I swiveled my head to the left, and saw a guy no older than me giving me a creepy smile. Internally, I winced. The last thing I wanted was to end up talking to a guy who would flirt the whole flight. I turned my head back to the window.

"Hey," the guy smirked, "so if it gets cold, you cool with being my blanket?"

My face blanched. At least if you were going to flirt, use a nice pickup line. I'm pretty sure what he said could have counted as harassment.

He grabbed my wrist, forcing me to tear my eyes away from Portland. I really didn't want to deal with this right now. I plastered on my innocent face, complete with my eyes completely open and me softly biting my lip. He looked startled as soon as he saw my face.

"Oh...um, hi," he murmured, his cheeks turning slightly pink.

I smirked internally. Not so confident anymore, eh? The best way to avoid a confrontation was either to pretend it didn't exist, or to fight it head on. The second was always the best way.

He let go of my wrist. I pointed to my throat and motioned.

"Oh, you can't talk?" He asked.

I nodded.

"Are you sick? Or...can you...just not?"

I lifted up two fingers, indicating the second. He looked ashamed of himself. Internally, I smirked again.

He looked away. "I...I'm sorry about earlier."

I simply nodded as the pilot's voice announced overhead that we were about to take off. I fastened my seat belt and pulled out my iPod classic. I slid the earbuds into place as I looked back over Portland. I pressed a button, starting the playlist I had specifically prepared for the flight.

I listened to the soothing notes, as they tried to assure me that everything would be be fine in the end. Another tear escaped the clutches of my right eyelid, while I looked over the emerald hues of Portland. My home. I would miss the clean, fresh air, the lack of plastic bags, bike paths, Mount Saint Helen...I could go on for hours. Most of all, I would miss my sweet grandmother and my brother and the memories embedded in the city that I loved.

I heard the rumble of plane engines as the we lifted off. I couldn't look away from the mountainous landscape as the heavy machine flew thousands of feet over the vista. I pressed my forehead against the cool pane of glass and watched as my favorite patch of the world passed under my feet. I refused to look away until we were flying over the peaceful crests of the Pacific. The same greenish-blue waves lulled me into a trance as I slowly but surely dozed off, still listening to the tranquil music which tried to convince me that all would be well.

I suddenly awoke to a hand shaking my shoulder. I slowly peeled open my eyes and turned to the left. The teenager sitting next to me simply muttered, "We're about to land."

I nodded and pulled out the earbuds that had remained embedded in my ears. I slid the device into my back jean pocket and fixed my brown combat boots. I refused to change my style, even if I was in a different country. I would change nothing.

The plane slowly lowered and came to a stop. People around me stood up as I slowly got to my feet. The guy next to me moved into the aisle and motioned for me to get my duffel first. "Ladies first," he smiled gently.

I smiled back innocently. I pulled the duffel bag off and turned toward the plane exit. Smirking, I knew there was one thing I had to do on the plane. Turning back I grinned, "By the way, you should really work on your pickup lines. They're atrocious."

I didn't stick around to see his face of shock or his stuttering. I had to face a confrontation face on, but who said I didn't have to play smart? I was finally ready to leave the life I had behind as I stepped through the gate on to the land that was supposed to be a quarter of who I represented. Japan.

My grandmother taught me to be proud of my Japanese heritage and taught me the language as soon as I began to master English. She wanted me to learn English first because she said she didn't want me to have an accent in the language I used with people outside the family. She always said to minimize your weaknesses. Learning Japanese was easy for me, or so she told me. I rather liked the language, but I only spoke it with my grandmother.

I never felt Japanese though. I always looked like a mix of European blood, reflecting the other three-fourths of my heritage. My auburn locks and light blue eyes masked the ancestry of grandmother. That wasn't all. She always told me I was didn't have the typical slender build of Japanese girls with my small waist, wide hips, and chest that defied that fourth of my blood. I simply laughed when she said that, knowing she liked messing with me. Nevertheless, she taught me Japanese along with French, Dutch, and German languages of Belgium, my mother and grandfather's heritage. The Belgian part of me reflected far more physically than my Japanese counterpart.

Imagine my surprise when I found my father's will saying that he wished for me to go to Japan for schooling if anything happened to him and my mother. I didn't understand his motives, and I doubted I ever would. I was comfortable in the US, with plenty of friends and teachers who praised my abilities. I was supposed to go into my freshman year in high school and I was predicted to be ranked highly both academically and athletically.

I lifted my heavy bags onto the trolley and fingered the strap of my last bag. The corners of my mouth lifted up. I opened it slightly and saw all my swim equipment and swimsuits packed neatly away along with my tennis rackets and spare tennis balls. Zipping it closed, I set the bag on the trolley along with the others.

As I rolled my trolley out into the sea of people waiting outside the terminal, I heard someone call my name. "Jade Sayuri Klysen!"

I turned, remembering a conversation with my grandmother I had years ago. I had asked her about my unusual name and she only responded that my father wished for me to represent all of heritage, even through my name. She had explained that Klysen came from my Belgian side and Sayuri was her name, and therefore became my middle name. I was named Jade because my mom thought it was a beautiful and simple name.

I walked towards the voice and snapped out of my reverie. Smiling, I saw a middle aged woman waving and holding a sign with my name over her head.

"Ah, Suzuki-san! It is nice to put a face to the voice I talked to on the phone," I said amicably in Japanese to my new neighbor. My grandmother had kept ownership of a flat in Japan even though my grandfather had insisted for her to sell it decades ago. Upon knowing that I was to move back to Japan, my grandmother had given me the key in a neatly wrapped box along with a new credit card while tears flowed down her cheeks. She had said that it was the key to the flat that she had saved all these years and she wanted me to furnish it with the credit card. She told me to make it a place I would be happy to come home to. She gave me the number to the neighbor and told me to rely on her, as she was an old family friend. Suzuki-san had remained an obscure voice on the phone until now.

The middle aged woman laughed. "I forgot that you are fluent in Japanese, Klysen-kun."

"Please. Call me Jade or Sayuri, whichever makes you more comfortable. I respond to both."

She smiled. "Come, we'll load your luggage into the car."

I followed her out of the airport, pushing the trolley in front of me. "Ah, Suzuki-san, when is my first day of school?"

"It starts in one day. I have the uniform you are supposed to wear hung up in your closet. You'll be starting with my daughter, who will be going into her third year, just like you. She happens to like her school, Rikkai Dai Fuzoku. It's a very competitive school, but from what you have told me I believe it would be a perfect fit for you."

I nod. "Yes, I'm naturally competitive and so was my old school. On top of that, my brother is six years older than me and we always try to outdo each other. Currently, he's at college."

"I was right. The school should be a good fit for you. What do you do for fun, Jade-kun?"

"Several things really. I am foremost a swimmer, and spend a lot of time swimming daily. I also play the saxophone and sometimes bake or read."

We stop at her car and I insist that I should load the luggage myself. She eventually slides into the car while I finish weighing down her car with large bags. I jump into the car myself as she backs out and starts on the short journey back to our flats.

"Eh, this is her? I expected differently," I hear a voice in the background.

I open a single eyelid, mourning the loss of my nap.

"Don't be rude, Azuri," says the familiar voice of Suzuki-san.

"What exactly did you expect?" I grin, ruffling my hair and stepping out of the car.

They girl my age paused in thought. "I expected a really tall person with blonde hair and blue eyes and to carry McDonald's and eat hamburgers all the time, and would speak only English," she smirked jokingly. "But you are really tall and have blue eyes."

"Sorry to disappoint. Besides, I'm a normal height in the US. 170 cm is normal. And I totally dislike hamburgers. And I'm fluent in Japanese," I stick out my tongue.

Suzuki-san simply laughs in the background. "I knew you two would get along just fine." Azuri and I smile in response. "Now go help Jade-kun with her bags."

I try to protest but she grabs a bag and runs, sticking out her tongue, teasing me. I grab a bag and run after her, laughing. Grabbing the key bestowed to me by my grandmother, I stab into the lock and turn. Azuri and I gasp as the door swings open.

"W..Wow. It's amazing.." Azuri stutters.

"Thank you, I decorated it myself."

I drop the bag that I'm carrying and run back towards the car. My laziness takes over and I grab four bags and lug them back to the door, panting. I'd rather take one trip than multiple.

"How are you carrying all of that?"

"Pure determination," I pant back. "Anyways, that's all the bags."

Azuri grabs my wrist and and drags me out the door. "Come on! I want to show you the area."

"Uh..if you insist..." I stammer, as I check if my cellphone and iPod are still in my pockets and my backup cash is still stashed in my boots.

"Look! That's the school we're both attending tomorrow," Azuri explains. "Want to see the campus?"

I nod, excited. It was better if I learned the placement of the buildings before school started. I hated getting lost. The multiple buildings looked smaller than the high school I was supposed to go to, yet more intimidating.

"Oh don't have that expression," she teased. "We share multiple parts of the school with Rikkai Dai Sr. High."

"It's smaller than I expected."

"What? Really?"

"Mhm..." I trail off while try describing the high school I was supposed to go to. Azuri listens attentively while interjecting every couple of seconds with questions about the school in America or to point out parts of the school.

I pause as I hear a yell and the harried steps of multiple people in a dead sprint. I turn see multiple people in red and yellow uniforms run past. I turned my puzzled face towards Azuri.

"Eh, I didn't know they practiced before school started. That's the tennis team. They're famous for never losing and their tough attitude."

"Hmm, is that so? That's dedication." I remember my brother teaching me how to do basic swings and training me. His natural ability in tennis was never reflected in me, which is why I used tennis to train my arms for swimming. When I quit tennis, my brother only smiled and told me that it was important for my to find my own way to be happy.

"Yeah," she replied. "We have a lot of other sports teams and clubs as well. Chances are if you play a sport, we have a club for it."

"Hm, is that so?" I repeated. "How's your swim team?"

There was a pregnant pause in the conversation. "Swimming?" She had a mournful look on her face. "The swim team doesn't really exist. I mean, the coach is still around, but no one is on the team. The coach was apparently too tough and got mad at everyone because they didn't take the team seriously. It was mainly to wear skimpy clothing and flirt with other sports teams."

I looked down on the ground and kicked a pebble. Typical. There were plenty of girls on the swim team who joined swimming for that sole purpose on my old club team. It was a shame that no one took it as a serious sport. It was a beautiful sport that took so much mental and physical training. "Oh. I see. If the coach is still around, I could try to join, right?"

"Uh, I suppose. He's the advanced math teacher for our year."

"Good to know. Anyways, let's go somewhere else. I'm kind of hungry."

She grinned. "I know this perfect place."

I looked at the long line in front of the building. "Are you sure this is a good place to eat? It might take a while."

"It's totally worth it."

"By the way..." I asked, "what should I make for the first day of school?"

"What are you talking about?

I explained to her my old friends' tradition of bringing something sweet when one of us were new to something. Because it was my first day of school in a new country, I wanted to bring something sweet as an icebreaker. It tended to make other people more willing to talk to me, which helps because of how independent I am.

To my surprise, Azuri didn't demean the idea list most people did. She started to list off ideas. Cookies? Too generic and quite easy. Brownies? No, a little too sweet for most people's taste. Cake? Nah, I always botched up cakes. Cheesecake? Hard to keep in good condition without a refrigerator. Pie? I hated eating and making pie. Pudding? Had to be refrigerated as well. Same with custards. Fudge? Well that could stay in good condition in a decent plastic container.

"What about cream puffs? They taste quite good. I can make both fudge and cream puffs."

"Sounds yummy!" Azuri bounced on the balls of her feet excitedly. "Can we make them together? It would be fun!"

"Eh, I don't see why not." I opened the door to the bakery. The line had shortened enough during our conversation to allow us to open the door. I took a deep breath of the tantalizing smell.

"Hmm...I'll take a dozen salted caramel cream puffs," ordered the pinkish-red haired person ahead of me.

My ears perked up at the sound of cream puffs. As odd as his hair was, I wanted a few ideas for baking. I turned to Azuri, and her face reflected what I thought.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" I grinned.

"You mean am I totally thinking about ordering the cream puffs and fudge, or do I want to get letter to a mysterious school of magic which uses wands and has totally badass classes?"

"So you are thinking what I'm thinking!" I joked back. "But no seriously, I wanted that letter so bad for my eleventh birthday."

We stepped forward to the forward of the line. The store manager took one look at me and began to speak in halted English. "H..Hello...may I take...your order?"

I internally rolled my eyes in annoyance. I replied back in Japanese that easily flowed from my lips. "Can I please have a salted caramel cream puff and a piece of your best fudge?"

"Same for me please," said Azuri.

His eyes reflected shock in my Japanese. I smirked internally, proud of my mastery of several languages. "I'm quite new here sir, I just moved the the country."

"B..But, you speak Japanese so well," he stuttered back.

"Thank you sir. I am partially Japanese. Looks can be quite deceiving sometimes."

He smiled and handed Azuri and I a box full of confectionary pleasures. "You have taught me an impressive lesson. Thank you."

I dipped my head in acknowledgement, "Thank you for the food."

Azuri giggled as we turned and exited the small building. "Impressive, Jade-kun."

"Please, just call me Jade. No formalities." I smiled at the girl that I felt that I could be great friends with.

I chewed thoughtfully in my kitchen with Azuri, my mouth full of cream puff. "Ehh, this isn't bad. But I think I can make better. The cream is too thin and there's not a proper balance of caramel and cream. The fudge isn't bad either, but it would taste better with either dark chocolate or almonds."

"What are you talking about? This is the best I've ever tasted."

I shook my head in pity. "We have tonight to make better."

This time, I was the one dragging her out the door. Five minutes and we were at the local grocery store while I ran around grabbing items such as flour and chocolate and sugar. Azuri ran after me trying to hold all of the items.

"Are you an expert at baking or something?" she panted, trying to keep up.

"Nope! Just a dabbler in the arts!" I called back, grabbing a carton of heavy cream.

I brushed past a person in a yellow uniform that I swore I had seen earlier. His white cap covered his face as I ran past. "Sorry!" I yelled as I turned and did a brief bow. "Didn't mean to run into you!"

Azuri ran after me and started giggling as we cleared another aisle and dropped our items at the counter to pay. "I can't believe you...you have guts...unbelievable..." she giggled.

I decided to ignore her words as I saw the plastic bags the store attendant handed to us.

"Wow!" I exclaimed, "plastic bags. It's been a while since I've seen this."

Azuri looked at me, puzzled. I explained to her the lack of plastic bags in my familiar town of Portland as we walked back to my flat. The plastic bags had been banned and I was used to carrying around my own bags. Great for the environment but sometimes annoying, the bag ban had been a part of my daily life. She nodded in understanding as she listened to my monologue.

"So Azuri, what clubs are you in?" breaking my babbling.

"I'm in student council and photography club as well. I hate to say it, but I'm in the math Olympiad as well."

My head snapped up. "Math Olympiad? Really? I used to be in that and science Olympiad along with swimming. I had fun doing it, even though most people thought it was weird."

Azuri nodded while kicking a pebble. "'I'm the president of the team and you are welcome to join if you want. Because most people are in other clubs, we meet once a week during lunch. We don't have a science Olympiad though. I think that's in the high school section."

I told her I would love to after I figured out my swimming always came first, no matter what. I grabbed the key from my pocket and opened the door to the flat. "Come on! We have to start baking! It has to be perfect!"

She simply raised an eyebrow as I started a flurry in the kitchen with the bowls and pans I found in the cupboard. Eventually, she stopped leaning against the wall and started mixing bowls I threw at her. I couldn't lie, I was having fun even though I was covered in flour as Azuri and I argued over who got the right to lick the spoon. It seemed that even though I was thousands of miles away from Portland, I still felt that this place I was in had a significance to me. I don't know if I could call it home yet but it was definitely a start. I looked at the family portrait hung up on the dining room's wall. My family stared back at me, smiling, as if trying to say that they agreed. This could be a new home. I still questioned my father's will and missed Portland, I still felt a pang of homesickness, and I still feel like I could look up and see my sweet grandmother walk around a corner, but this place in this foreign country connected to me somehow. Maybe it wasn't so foreign after all.

Favorite and follow if you like it! Like I said before, I will answer to all reviews. All reviews, comments, and constructive criticism would be greatly appreciated.

Shoutout to Mercury Teardrops for helping me with my writing.

Please check out my other story, Finding Luck!

Thank you everyone!