Hi guys, I'm back with a new story. I've actually planned this one out to avoid writers block like last time. It's my first anime fic so I'm sorry if anything about Japanese culture is off, point it out to me and I'll be happy to change anything. Hope you enjoy!
Chapter 1
Kumiko Hisakawa
My name is Kumiko. It means 'braid', as in to bring things together. That's what I like to think anyway, that my mother didn't just name me that because she liked plaits. It suits me a lot better than I ever thought it would, because I did in fact bring something very beautiful together a long time ago.
Oyama is smiling up at me, his bright emerald eyes locked on mine – though I don't look back at him. This has always been how we walk. He focuses on me, and I focus on where we're going. It helps him concentrate on the conversation, or so I think. Perhaps he just wants to seem friendlier.
"Hisakawa, have you decided on what you're going to do for your sixteenth birthday?" His voice finally breaks through my trail of thought. I realize I've accidentally been ignoring my friend for the past five minutes. I give him a small smile and shrug, looking back at him for a second before tipping my head back to glance up at the orange morning sky.
"I guess I'll just invite a few friends round." I say, clearly disinterested. I've never really been that bothered with birthdays. Or growing up. I'd stay as a kid forever in a heartbeat.
"Hey, you want to go for coffee after school?" I ask Oyama, snickering to myself at the rosy blush that flushes over his cheeks. Oyama and I have been friends for as long as I remember. I think I liked how refreshingly normal he is. He doesn't try to be quirky, or bend over backwards to be unique. He's completely himself and he's completely ordinary and that's okay. Don't get me wrong, I love unique. I just don't love that some girls refuse to ever where dresses because they 'don't want to be like those other girls'. Or people who forbid themselves from enjoying any music from the top forty because it's too mainstream. I wish people would just be themselves, who cares if that means there's a million others who act similarly. Nobody's going to be the exact same anyway.
When we arrive at the school I tug at my thigh highs which seem to have slipped on the way there and I tuck the strands of hair that have fallen from my hair bun behind my ears. I sigh deeply and bid Oyama goodbye before turning left down the hallway. Like usual, the school smells of cheap perfume, sweat and disinfectant. I make my way to the arts block; I have drama first period and that's wear the rest of my friends usually hang out. My eyelids are drooping from exhaustion and I'm starting to wish I had asked Oyama to get coffee with me this morning rather than this afternoon. I'm an idiot. The shiny black floors of the arts block squeak as I drag my feet along them, scuffing my clunky patent mary janes as I walk.
"Hisakawa!"
I turn my head to see a whoosh of pink hair as the familiar small girl darts from behind me to my left side. I instantly feel my spirits lift a little. This girl was so energetic, maybe some of her enthusiasm would rub off on me.
"Oh, hey Yui." I nod friendlily at the lightning bolt of a human and tuck my thumbs in the waistband of my school skirt. Our uniforms are depressing and grey, the only colourful thing about them is the bold red tie we wear over our white shirts but under our black, buttoned waistcoats. Yui has brightened her uniform by decorating it with pin badges of bands she likes. It's a nice touch. "How's it going, sparkles?"
Another reason Oyama is considered to be my best friend: he's the only one I haven't given a borderline offensive nickname.
"Good, I'm on my way over to band practice now. You wan't to come? Iwasawa-san has recruited a new guitarist, apparently. Sounds like she only just moved here."
"I'll bite." I nod. If she hadn't told me about the arrival of the newbie, I probably would have passed. But hey, the sound a new guitarist for Girl's Dead Monster has piqued my curiosity.