A/N: Enjoy.
I spent the entire drive fighting the urge to puke.
I knew it was illogical. I knew it was stupid. I was used to those kinds of people – the spoiled, arrogant, and absurdly rich. It wouldn't be that different from back home…
No, I thought. I won't think about that.
I sighed and tucked a strand of gold hair back behind my ear. Wonderful. Not many blue-eyed blond people in Japan. Though I suppose there'll be more racial diversity at Ouran than most other schools. My mental tone was more hopeful than certain. The parents are definitely wealthy enough to travel…
I lifted my book in front of my eyes again, attempting to immerse myself in tales of beautifully unrealistic fantasy worlds. Worlds where the mother doesn't really die, and your idiot ambassador father isn't rude enough to drag you across the Pacific ocean to a completely different country...
Reading, for once, didn't help. But I stared at the page anyway.
"We are arriving, Miss." I jumped at the driver's kind, mercifully American voice. Ralph, I remembered. My father imported him from Texas.
The limo slid gracefully into position in a long line of slightly fancier ones. And my mouth fell open.
Oh. My. God.
The school was absolutely the most ridiculously ostentatious thing I had ever seen. Built like some gothic castle, it towered at least five stories above velvet-green lawns and bright gardens manicured to uniform perfection. It was built out of some pale stone, complete with gold accents and marble statues.
I had to resist the urge to snort, half in awe and half in exasperation. I mean, really. Gold?
Tearing my gaze from the intimidating building, I dug around in my bag for a hand mirror.
I had left my hair down today. It fell past my waist, straight and very noticeably blond. I suppressed another sigh. As my mother would have said, flaunt your differences with pride. There's no point in trying to hide what everyone can plainly see.
I just wish it were easier.
I was very pretty, with high cheek bones and wide, gray-blue eyes. My skin was pale (reading inside all day doesn't really help one's complexion). Dark circles, the result of moving stress and frustration, stood out plainly.
Ugh.
Steeling myself, I snapped the mirror shut and tossed it back into the bag. And I shoved open the door.