Of Bottle Rockets and Smashed Cars
Chapter 1: The Childhood of a maniac


Disclaimer: I do not own Azumanga Daioh, though I wish I did.


Most people wonder, after spending half an hour with me, if I have any sanity left in my head. Well, actually, I do.

I know, I know. It sounds hard to believe, but it's true. Absolutely, positively true. Or not.
I'll start from the beginning. That way, you won't have any room to daydream about my life as a child like Osaka does. The last time she did that, she thought my parents had adopted me from the mental hospital. As if.

I was born into a tragic home, on a cold, frosty winter morning. My father was an alcoholic, and my mother, a crippled orphan. I had seventeen brothers and sisters all in need of feeding. Fooled you, didn't I?

It adds to the drama to lie, I always say. It's also fun to see the little brats faces go ghastly white, then turn flaming red when they find out your lying. Nyamo says I shouldn't be such a drama queen.

In actuality, my dad is an accountant, my mom is a chef, and I'm an only child. Oh, and I was born on a normal, average, totally blah day. The kind of day my life is made of, the kind that makes you snore. Which Nyamo says I do a lot.

My parents first acknowledged my sanity (or rather, my lack of it,) when I was three. My preschool class was putting on a performance of Sleeping Beauty. I was the evil fairy.
It wasn't my fault what happened, really. I mean, I had done so much better at the auditions than her! Anyone could see that!

ANYHOW, as Sleeping Beauty (played by my archenemy) lay sleeping on her extremely expensive and over decorated canopy bed, I was standing offstage, fuming. I mean, it wasn't fair that she got to sleep, and wear a gorgeous pink silk dress, and I had to stand there looking like a walking advertisement for Gothic Dreamland magazine. You can see what happened next.
I, being the genius I am, noticed that there was an empty bucket right next to my foot. I also noticed that the sink was close by. I filled the bucket up with water, and then, I made my entrance.

OOOOO, it was a brilliant entrance. Prince Charming looked like his jaw would never screw back on, and Sleeping Beast? Welll, let's just say, when I got done with her, she was about as beautiful as a wet poodle. Teeheehee.

My parents from then on would not let me do anything without adult supervision. I couldn't eat, sleep, walk, talk, or scream without a grown-up around. Normally, this would piss me off, but for them I decided to give a spectacular, first rate performance. Name any prank, and I'll have done it. Now, shut up. I know what you're going to say. You're going to call me an uncivilized brat. How rude. Not to mention that my parents have called me that so many times it doesn't phase me. I did have things that made me seem like a sweet, slightly naive kid. Like bottle rockets. Wonderful, dazzling bottle rockets.

I've loved bottle rockets ever since one summer when my parents decided to take me to the beach. Beaches are nice, but I'd been to plenty by that time, and was completely bored. Until they brought them out.

And when they fired them, I felt happier than I'd ever felt before. The colors! The bright colors, painting a rainbow against the sky! I wanted to jump up into the night, and explode into a bright burst of vibrant color, just like them.

"Mama!" I cried out, causing my mother to nearly faint. (I normally called her 'My Stupid Mom'.) "Mama, look! That rocket is green, just like the grass! And that one is red, just like my doll's dress! So lovely, Mama! So lovely, all of them!" "Er, yes, they are, Yukari," my mother said, and felt my forehead to see if I had a cold. At that point in my life, I realized that my goal was to someday go up into the stars, and launch off the biggest bottle rocket ever. Nothing would ever stop me. I was a car hurtling down an empty highway at 100 M.P.H.
And then I met Nyamo.
A/N: It's short. It's stupid. And it's the first chapter. sigh I really like Yukari. She's never struck me as mean, or bossy. She's kinda made me feel like she's a little kid, trapped in a grown-ups body. Maybe she is. That would explain her driving skills. Haha. Anyhow, I wanted to do a fic about her life. I haven't seen one anywhere, but if you've written one, send me the link. I'd love to read it. As usual, comments and criticism are highly appreciated. And thanks for reading the first chapter of "Of Bottle Rockets and Smashed Cars". I hoped you've enjoyed yourself!