A/N: Okays, so I was reading the Prince of Tennis and I kinda sort fell head over heels for Kikumaru Eiji, so now I'm writing a story! YAYNESS!! Anyways, thanks to lolipop8 for helping out SOOOO much, with the Japanese thing and stuff.
Disclaimer: I don't own Prince of Tennis, but I do own Hana and Kenshin and some other peoples...and stuff. Yay for owning things. THE END! Enjoy!
Flower of my Eye
Chapter One: Going to School in Japan
The rain pounded the forest floor, seeming to jump from the force of impact. It couldn't have been later than 3 or 4 in the morning, but it storm's viciousness blocked out all signs of hope; no stars in the sky, even the lamps around the road had flickered and gone out. Power was down, and the storm continued on. In the midst of it all, a large oak tree in the middle of the park stood it's ground, hardly shaking, even in the strongest rainstorm Tokyo had seen in a long while. Down towards its base was a girl, about 14, curled into a tight ball, her school uniform dripping and dirty. She lifted her head, startling blue eyes stared straight forward, which where red and puffy from crying. Frustrated, she wiped them furiously with the back of her hand, her auburn tinted dark brown hair in mats from sitting against a tree and being soaking wet. Who is this girl? This girl is me. But, maybe this isn't the best place to start. I mean, you're probably thinking 'How could this happen?' or 'Why did this happen?' Well let me tell you, it all started about two months ago...
"Please fasten your seatbelts and push your trays to their upright position, we'll be landing in the Tokyo airport shortly. I do hope you enjoyed your flight and we'll be seeing you soon." The pilot's voice sounded over the intercom, then in another language, only confirming what I had been trying to put my mind off of. I had actually moved to Tokyo. My mother next to me shifted in her seat, holding my fathers hand and grinning happily. I didn't know what was worse. Leaving all my friends behind or the God-only-knows hour-long flight to get here. I didn't mind moving to Tokyo; actually, I've always wanted to live there—here, uh...that place. I did NOT like, however, the packing of items, rearranging of my schedule, the flight, and the leaving of my friends. Otherwise, I was perfectly happy. My grandmother on my mothers' side was Japanese, and passed away about a year ago. When the will was read, she had given her house to my mother. Some people would try to sell the residence and get whatever money they could out of it. My mother wanted to sell OUR home, in Seattle Washington, of all places, so we could move THERE.
But that was my mother. My father, pure American through and through, thought very carefully about moving. After several discussions of the pros and cons, he consulted me a few times on my point of view, and next thing I knew, I had a date to tell all my friends I was leaving for Japan. Shortly after that we started packing, and shortly after that we where on the plane to my new home. Of course, I knew very little Japanese, but I did know a few words. Not enough to survive, but a few. Besides, all I really need was to stay in-doors at all costs. If I don't meet people, I don't have to make a fool of myself trying to speak. That should be relatively easy, considering my parents didn't know how to set up the whole 'switching schools' thing. That, and I was pretty sure that the whole different-country-meant-different-school-system would protect me for the time being. Boy was I wrong. But that's not the point. Continuing on...
As soon as the plane landed, we headed off in the general direction to pick up what small things we did fly instead of ship, and everything should be in the house by the time we picked up our car and drove to it. I of course, stared out the window, mesmerized by all the lights and bustle of the people. Soon the major part of town vanished, and a smaller town had taken its place. Once the Mercedes-Benz had slowed to a stop, I switched my gaze to the other side.
My new house was slightly hidden by several trees, and concrete steps made up the pathway. My house was on a HILL. My God, I knew my mom was trying to kill me, but I didn't think she wanted me dead that badly. Let me explain to you a minute about what I mean. I am very clumsy. Not just stumbling-over-rocks-and-trees clumsy, but falling-on-my-face-on-a-flat-stable-surface clumsy. Which is a bit ironic, since I had three years of ballet as a child. For some reason, if I dance, I'm perfectly capable of not falling over. Every other relation to sports is just a nightmare. Well that's not entirely true. Let me rephrase; if I have to run, walk, or jump, I have a problem. Climbing is no big deal, and if I'm able to stay in a single spot I can be athletic, otherwise...no chance in hell. My father and mother stepped out, my mom squealing partially, and I followed, a step or two behind. You see, I'm a single child, and my mom and dad gave up trying for another years ago. So it's cool that we have money and can afford some top-of-the-line stuff, but I've never really been close to them. They included me in their decisions, of course, but I still would rather go to my friends for advice. Maybe that's from having my parents be really...protective...of me when I was really little. Well, smaller than I am now. How tall am I? A whopping 160.02 cm, or in America, 5'3", or better known as short. Very short.
Once again I'm getting off topic. I followed my parents up the stone steps, which flowed into a sort of marble looking winding path. Freshly trimmed and tightly contained vegetation grew along side the trail, a few trees sprouting to make it seem almost magical. The house itself was a two-story Japanese building with a white roof, but inside would be a more Americanized. Two couches around a coffee table in front of a 34" flat screen TV in the living room; a kitchen and a little bar like counter running around the edges; three bedrooms on the first floor, two on the top; a spiraling staircase that lead to the top floor; four bathrooms; one downstairs in the master bedroom, one across the hall from the living room, one upstairs next to the first bedroom and one across from the second; and a laundry room across the hall of the bathroom in the living room. An extraordinarily large house for just three people. But I didn't really care. I was used to space and used to being alone. Both of my parents liked their jobs and did them more often then normal people should. They had transferred their jobs here, so I would still be alone most of the time. Maybe I could just find something to do. Eventually. But first was unpacking. That was a major pain. First went the stuff they needed for everyday things: utensils for food, including plates, cups, mugs, pot, pans, mixing bowls and anything else, then a few of the decorating things, like a statue of a fox on top of a log watching a rabbit that was coming out, a bowl that contained a few water stones and a candle, decorated around it where rosemary, baby's-breath, and a few yellow with a red tint roses; a favorite of both mine and my mom's. Then they told me to take my stuff upstairs and unpack all of my things, which I had about four or five boxes—mainly clothes—and that took about an hour and a half. When I had finished everything, I took a good look around my room.
The floor had an almost silver like carpet, the walls a very light green. My bed was next to the window—I was on the second floor, otherwise I wouldn't have put it there—covered in a darker green comforter and blankets of all sizes and colors, and white large pillows with smaller green ones, not as dark as the comforter, but not as light as the wall. My desk was near the head of my bed on the left side (if I was laying on it); left to that was the door to the house; left to that the walk in closet; left to that a smaller desk holding a lamp, a journal, and some incense; left to that was smaller dresser with a mirror on top, holding all of my perfumes and make-up, next to that was a bookcase mixed with a CD shelf. The bookshelf was nearly full, holding all sizes and thickness, and the CD's were too almost full. Time to start thinking of getting another one. What can I say; I have my own little library.
On top of my dresser next to my bed held my stereo system, where I could have 'me' time and type on my laptop my parents got as an apology for making me move. Which was cool. It had wireless so I could go online and talk to my friends at an eighteen-hour time difference. Pfft, yeah right. Well, I could write e-mail and such. My laptop was in its case stored under my bed. I also had a cream-colored beanbag chair, which fit perfectly between my bed and dresser where all my stuffed animals could be in peace. Yes, I am fourteen and have stuffed animals. Deal with it.
My white and green curtains where lazing in front of the window, and when I opened them, I realized a much darker curtain was there so I could be blocked from the world when changing or something, but for the most part, I'd leave the dark, dense one open. I don't exactly like a dark dampener on my happy place. And that's what this room—as the one before it—would turn out to be: my haven away from everyone in the world. Just me and my books, laptop, incense, and my music. And no one would ever bother me. My parents then called my downstairs. Being the obedient little child I am, I complied. Hopping down the two flights of stairs, I slowed when I saw the beaming faces of my parents. That was never a good sight. Flickering my confused gaze between the two and reluctant to move forward, I stood with one hand on the railing and asked why they called me down. My mom was practically jumping in her spot.
"Oh Jonathon, can we show her now?" she begged, using her big brown eyes to win him over. Grinning, my dad returned the adoring look to his wife, and then turned to me.
"Hana, we where waiting for the right time to tell you..."
Oh. Shit. I hate that line. That means something bad is going to happen, fairly quickly.
"...I know that you where hoping to wait a little before meeting people but—" he sucked in a big breath, my mom smiling so big her perfectly straight teeth where completely visible. "—You're starting Seishun Gakuen tomorrow!" he cheered, pulling out a nicely wrapped box and handing it to me. I took it on a knee-jerk reaction, though I could've sworn my heart stopped beating. I'm going to a Japanese school, without knowing any Japanese. At all. Anyone else seeing the problem here? My mom was so happy she pulled me into a tight hug.
"Itoshigo, I know you're going to love it there." She practically purred. I pulled the best smile I could. They thought they were doing the right thing. That's all. I'd put up with much worse than school for them both. When she let me go, she pushed for me to open the box. I did so, trying not to cringe at the uniform I had to wear. The shirt was a mint green and long sleeved, with a light blue trim, a pink bow and a white top—like the ones people see the marines wearing—and a blue skirt. There were quite a number of them, but maybe that was because my mom rarely did laundry, although (unbeknownst to her) I learned how to do my own some time ago. I thanked them and decided to go to bed, also grabbing a quick bite to eat, to enjoy the last day I had of freedom and things making sense.
I tossed and turned all night, trying not to come up with horrible images of my new school. Mom had told me nothing about it, only that I would fit right in and it would be like I never left home. When I finally fell into an unsteady sleep, it was around one o' clock. Independence from Destiny's Child woke me up the next morning, and I quickly threw off my covers and hopped into the shower, speeding yet being thorough at the same time. Deciding to leave my hair down, I pulled on my uniform, surprised it actually fluctuated the small curves I did own. Throwing on my backpack—which was now filled with school supplies—I ran downstairs to grab a bowl of cereal (Cookie Crisp) before heading back upstairs to brush my teeth and finish brushing out my hair, which didn't want to be pretty, so I threw it into a surprisingly nice pony-tail, sprayed myself with a body spray, and headed out the door, slipping on some nice black shoes. I tired to slow my heart rate when I heard a voice from behind me. My dad had walked out of the house, in his work outfit, and offered to give me a ride. Even though it would get me to school faster I accepted; my dad always had a very calming presence.
As I meekly followed him down the path, I couldn't help but notice his broad shoulders and chocolate brown hair, which matched the coffee color of his eyes nicely, and I wondered yet again how these two could be my parents when I looked nothing like them. I didn't have the almond shaped eyes like my mother, and both of my parents had brown eyes, while I had a very strikingly ocean colored blue. Their hair was very dark, while mine always had a tint of red in my locks. My mother was very shapely, while I was small and had nothing. I did have my mothers' perfect teeth, her slightly pointed button nose, and her legs, while I had nothing from my father. My ears where small and curvy, but it made a very lovely frame of my face when I had my hair down, which was in layers, thanks to my Uncle, who owned a hair salon. The only thing I could've inherited from my father was the presence in which I held myself. Very relaxed and welcoming, which was amusing since he was a large business owner. Pushing the thoughts away, I realized we had already pulled up to the gates.
"This is where I leave you, bug." His nickname for me always made me less afraid. How did I get it? I'll never know. I smiled at him in response, gathering my courage as he directed me to the front office. I remembered what he told me the first day of Middle School, and then would be High School if I had stayed behind. Head up, and pretend like you know what you are doing. People are less likely to pick you out from a crowd than if you have your head down. Taking a deep breath, I wasted no time in going to the front office.
Behind the counter was a younger looking lady, maybe around twenty-five, with black hair and light brown eyes. Before she could speak, I quickly rushed in.
"I'm new here, and I can only speak English. Can you get someone to show me around?" I asked, praying she understood what I was saying. She smiled, nodded, and called attention to one of the other workers, they spoke for a while, and then she turned to me.
"Welcome to Seishun Gakuen, or maybe you'd get Seishun Academy better instead." She had a very light voice, and her English was slurred by her accent, but I still got what she was saying, thank God. "My name is Akeine, and if you have any problems, just come to me. We're a well-known school for our Tennis Team and educational program. We have two types of days, long and short. They start at the same time, but you have different classes, and therefore you get out earlier on the short days. They alternate, starting with long, so you get three long classes and two short. Kaidukuro is getting a student that will tour you around and that can speak English, so she can translate for you. She will be in a few of your classes, so you might need someone else in your other classes, but that shouldn't be to hard; most of the students here are taught English. Ah, here she comes now. This is Reiko, Masa Reiko, and she's be touring you today."
The person was about my age, but there was something that I wasn't quite comfortable with Reiko. Maybe it was her long, blonde hair, swinging hips, and narrowed eyes, but I could tell she was trouble. And she didn't want to be anywhere near me. That was clear. She and Akeine exchanged a few words, and then she swung her hair and held out a hand, pulling a smile. Maybe it was just my imagination of the confident menacing teen and Reiko really was a nice girl. I hope.
"Well Americano, lets get going. What class are you in?" without wasting a beat, she took the schedule I had in my hand and slipped through the office with much grace. After quickly thanking Akeine I followed her. She flowed elegantly through the halls, and once I finally caught up with her I matched her pace. She glanced at me.
"Looks like you're in 3-6, that's down the right hallway, take a left, take the second right, and you're in the second class in, got it?" Blinking I tried to memorize the course in my head. She pulled to a stop, and me, not watching were I was going, continued walking until I noticed her absence, which thankfully was only a few steps. She had her hand on her hips; her blue eyes much sharper than before and much more like the threatening girl I first met. "Let me put it to you flat out girly. When I ask a question, I get an answer, and when I stop, you stop, and you do as I say, or there's going to be trouble, you got it?" I nodded, then added a quick 'yes', just in case physical movements didn't count in this girls' mind as an answer. Most people wouldn't take that, but what choice did I have? I mean, for God's sake she's supposed to be the one person I understand in this country.
Trying not to show how uncomfortable I was, and waited for her to catch up to me before walking at her pace again. Lost in my thoughts as to how this day could get worse, I wasn't paying attention and next thing I knew, I hit something very solid and stumbled back a few paces. The guy I hit was much taller than I was, standing a good six or seven inches taller. He looked muscular, and very unhappy I ran into him. As a knee-jerk reaction I apologized, then realized he probably didn't know I had, and I looked to Reiko for help. Her blue eyes where level and a bit annoyed, her lips curled down into a frown. Her hands found her hips again. The guy spoke, his deep menacing voice bringing my attention back to him.
"Tokei yukue!" (1) he snarled, and I looked to Reiko, fear routing me to my spot. A cool smirk lit on her face. My heart plummeted. I tried apologizing again, but Reiko started speaking.
"Zubazubaiu noku, diaben." (2)She jerked her head in my direction, and the boy—who had been watching her since she first spoke—whipped his head around at me, screaming, 'Nani!?' (3) The triumph lighting in Reiko's eyes as she looked to me, and the very furious one of the boy she had been speaking to made it very clear that she was not apologizing. Me, in my adrenaline rush, decided running was the best option, and I went for it.
I ran as fast as my legs carried me, and the dangerous and threatening footsteps (more like stomps) proved the boy was giving chase. I looked around as I continued to run, hoping there was some way out of the halls—I had already ran into several people, and several others where now clearing the hall in front of us. Then I saw it, a door, on my right side that was coming up. Knowing it was my only escape, I slammed against it, flinging it open and took off again. The boys sneakers had made a squelching sound as he tried to stop, giving me a clue to how far behind he was. Not very far at all. I continued to look left and right, hoping, praying something could come up that I could use to lose him, and so far, I hadn't fallen down or missed a step. Today was a very good day to push the envelope on my abilities, and when I saw the death trap of the tennis courts, I knew that was my best shot. I pushed faster, and I actually heard the sound of the ball making contact with the racket. There were people there! It was too late to turn around, and once I was close enough, all I saw was the bright green court and the black nets. I literally slid into the door of the courts and no later had I ran into yet another person, who unfortunately had a basket of tennis balls in his arms. He fell backwards, the balls went flying in all directions, and I nearly stopped in time not to run him over again.
"Sorry! Oh my God, I'm so sorry!" I cried, picking up a few balls before I heard the boys screeching 'Ooi!' (4) I stopped in my tracks, my head whipping around to see the distance between us had been nearly demolished; I'd be in his reach in a few more strides. I tried running again, but someone had gotten a hold of me by my arm. I wrenched my arm every which way, blind terror taking over. The person just grabbed my other arm, asking the same question over and over. I knew it was a question from his tone of voice, which was not the one of my attacker. I finally looked up, and almost regretted the decision. The person who had me by my arms was a boy much like the one Reiko said something to. Tall and muscular. His dark blue cropped hair and brown eyes stared directly into mine, and he must've seen something for his grip slackened, but not enough to let me go. When I looked around I wanted to melt into inexistence. Most of the tennis team that was on the courts separated my attacker and me. The larger guys where in the front, conversing on what happened, I'm sure, for the tennis guys didn't seem angry, just annoyed and protective, while the others—holy crap, the guy had a gang!—were absolutely furious.
The tennis team kept sparing glances at me, and finally, the guy holding me spoke to who I guessed to be the leader, who was by far the tallest, the most mean looking, and the most mature in the face. His brown hair had blonde highlights, and his brown eyes looked just as menacing as the ones who where trying to kill me. Once the guy above me spoke, everyone turned to look at him, he continued speaking, and then everyone looked at me, suddenly feeling an outburst to run, and finding I was unable to, groveling took it's place.
"I-I'm sorry, I-I don't speak Japanese, my friend—Reiko said—I'm really sorry!" I shut my eyes, waiting for an explosion to break out again, and hoping, yet dreading what would happen if someone here actually spoke English. Damnit, what was the word my mom said was sorry? Geman? German? Gesmon? One the guys spoke Japanese again, and when I opened my eyes, he was right in front of me. "Nihongo o hanashimasu ka?" (5) he asked again. I stared blankly at him. I knew this was a bad idea! I don't understand you! I felt myself shrieking internally. His light brown hair glistened brightly in the sunlight, and his eyes where closed. He spoke again, this time slower, and I still couldn't understand him. I shook my head, frustration building, and I swore he chuckled.
"I thought so. You don't speak Japanese, do you?" I bet you God had descended from the heavens and put a halo around this kids head. He was my savior. I just about cried in relief.
"No, no, I don't, and no-nobody understands me and-and this girl was supposed to-but then I ran into him, and I apologized but-but Reiko must've-must've heard me wrong and-and-" He chuckled a little bit, patting my head before turning and explaining what happened. The angry gang leader guy spat something back at him, and although the brown haired kid stiffened, he didn't reply back, instead turning to me.
"He wants to know why you ran away if you didn't say all those bad things to him." He stared at me levelly, even though his eyes were closed, and waited for an answer. I looked to him, and then to the guy, hysteria making my voice crack.
"Are you kidding me? Look at the size of him! Now, maybe someone all macho like you wouldn't be afraid, but someone twice as small as you are sure the hell is! You were mad at me! Do you really think I'd be dumb enough to stick around and get my face pummeled in?" The brown haired guy chuckled again, and translated; the attackers eyes went from angry to confused, then to amused. He puffed out his chest and was about to say something when a familiar voice broke through the ranks.
"There you are Miss American. Man, you sure know how to cause a ruckus." The gang and tennis team parted, revealing an extremely amused Reiko. The guy snapped something at her, and she snapped something back. From the looks of the guy, and the looks from the tennis team around her, she just made a fool of not only him, but me as well. Flipping her blonde hair she added something else. The guy holding me and the brown haired kid both stiffened dramatically, leaving me in wonder about what the girl actually said. She then turned to me, plastering on a huge smile. "Come on Hana, we're going to be late for class." She strutted through the crowd, and the guy holding me let go, crossing his arms. She snagged my hand and tried to drag me when I almost slipped on a tennis ball.
"Oh no, the tennis balls." I slipped form her grip, picking up a few that had stayed near the front, when I heard a very impatient grunt from Reiko. The brown haired boy bent down next to me, picking up a ball I almost grabbed. He still had a faint smile on, and his eyes were still closed.
"You go to class. We'll handle things here." He stated, and the boy that had grabbed me also bent down, nodding in agreement. I smiled back, and Reiko vice gripped my arm.
"How sweet, now lets go." She literally dragged me off the courts, and when someone called her name she whipped around angrily. I looked back, and who I guessed to be the captain of the tennis team spoke to her in a warning tone. He glanced at me; Reiko huffed, and spun me back towards the school. I waved faintly, mouthing 'Thank you'. The captain just nodded curtly before shouting orders on the court. I turned back around and allowed Reiko to tow me to a set of lockers, and then to class.
She practically shoved me through the door of my class, making me stumble, and snapped irritably,
"Here's your first class. I don't have this one with you so you're going to have to find someone else to translate your sorry butt." She spun around and was gone. I went to the teacher, a younger looking lady with pitch-black hair and brown eyes, and spoke with her a while. She told me her name was Oshima Mari, or Oshima-sensei, and she handed me a couple of books and told me that she would find someone to look after me until I learned the language. Just before the bell rang, several students filed into the room, but no one seemed to be paying any attention to me, and nor I them, until a certain brown haired savior came through the door. I gasped and he smiled brightly at me before heading to his seat. The bell rang, and the teacher called attention to her class, before nudging me to the center of the room.
"Ohayou gozaimasu minna! Chin niwa ato arata kyoushuusei. Kanojyo namae desu Delano Hana, senpou dake tanshinfunin yori amerika. Senpou dekiru nou ooini houjin, sou watashi ketsubou dareka motte meppou zen Eigo-ga dzuki yuu senpou araundo." She paused, glancing about the class. Her eyes rested on someone, and she smiled. "Fujioka -san," A boy, two seats from where the brown haired kid sat, nearly jumped from his seat from being startled. "watashi ketsubou maro dzuki yuu kanojyo." (6) He looked to me, his cheeks darkening a shade.
"H-hai sensei." (7) He mumbled, shifting in his seat. He had fairly dark shaggy brown hair, his eyes a deep green. She smiled at me.
"Don't worry Hana, Fujioka-san can speak English fairly well, so I don't think there will be any problem." She pushed me forward. "Why don't you take the seat next to him?" I nodded and thanked her, shyly taking a seat next to the handsome boy, and next to my earlier savior. He didn't pay any attention to me though. I idly wondered if his rescue this morning was a one-time thing. Oshima-sensei spoke, dragging my attention away from him, and when Fujioka didn't say anything, I switched my gaze around wildly. He had his book opened, and he glanced to me. His eyebrows flew up and he murmured.
"Page thirty two. Sorry, I didn't mean to—" I smiled at him.
"No problem." I whispered. He glanced at the teacher, who was writing on the board.
"My name's Kenshin. She's writing a math problem, here, I'll help you." He showed me the different number characters; all the while whispering about what Mari-sensei was talking about. Once the bell rang he stood up.
"You really don't know anything about Japanese, do you?" he asked, a bit amused, but also curious. I smiled and rubbed the back of my neck.
"Nope. None at all. But I'm told I'm a quick study." He smirked, his hair falling in his eyes.
"Right, well, how about I teach you?" He asked. I smiled at him.
"Deal."
The next period flew by, all the while Kenshin telling me what they where saying. When lunch came by, he told me where it was, and headed off, trying to get in line before the lunch rush. As soon as I stepped into the cafeteria, I heard a very unhappy voice.
"Geez Miss American, you are so difficult to get a hold of! Now, come on. We're eating lunch over here." she tried to drag me away, and I tried to pull back, searching for Kenshin. When I found him, he saw me at the same time, and he threw me a confused and hurt look. Getting frustrated, I yanked my arm back from Reiko.
"Actually, I have someone I'm eating with already, sorry." I apologized, walking away from her. She snarled something in Japanese, storming away in her fury. Ignoring the glare on my back that was unmistakably hers, I met up with Kenshin. He smiled at me.
"My friends say it's alright if I stay with you awhile." He grinned, and walked with me to a table outside, near a batch of trees.
"Alright, now lets get going on that Japanese..."
School finally ended, and after saying goodbye to Kenshin, I walked home, thinking about the day. I had been chased, saved, and met one new friend, who was teaching me Japanese in our free time. As I walked the steps to my house, I debated on how much to tell my parents. Crying out my presence in the house, I got no response.
"Mom?" I kicked off my shoes. "Dad?" I walked into the kitchen. The TV was off, the door to their bedroom open. On the refrigerator I found a note in the familiar scrawl of my dad.
Got called out for a business trip, and Ami is with me. Be back in about a week. I'll call you before we head home. Love you. Have fun in school. Money for food and emergency is in the third drawer next to the dishwasher.
Love you bug.
Dad
Sighing, I put the note down. Figures. Stretching, I decided to do homework, and got online and worked on my Japanese until I went to bed.
(1)"Tokei yukue!" –Watch one's whereabouts (watch where you're going)
(2)"Zubazubaiu noku, daiben." -Speaking very frankly, get out of her way, I'm speaking for her.
(3)"Nani?!" -What?!
(4) "Ooi!"-Hey!
(5)"Nihongo o hanashimasu ka?" –Do you speak Japanese?
(6) "Ohayou gozaimasu minna! Chin niwa ato arata kyoushuusei. Kanojyo namae desu Delano Hana, senpou dake tanshinfunin yori amerika. Senpou dekiru nou ooini houjin, sou watashi ketsubou dareka motte meppou zen Eigo-ga dzuki yuu senpou araundo. Fujioka-san, watashi ketsubou maro dzuki yuu kanojyo." Good morning Everyone! We have a new student. Her name is Delano Hana; she just transferred here from America. She doesn't know much Japanese, so I want someone with very good English to help her around. Mister Fujioka, I want you to help her.
(7)"Hai, sensei." -Yes teacher.