Early in the morning I woke up by the sound of my cell phone alarm. There came a heavy yawn from my mouth before I got up and looked into the closet, trying to figure out what to wear. I hadn't had much sleep last night, because today was the first day at my new school. It was late September, not too far into the new semester, but the most important reason to why I hadn't slept as much as I would've liked, was that this was Japan! That's right, about one month ago my parents had decided to let me go to school in Japan for a whole year, and since I lived in England, they had found a family who could have me living there. They were all nice people, sort of, though they could be a bit too boring for me. Even though they were rich, and then I mean RICH, they seemed to have no fun at all, only thinking and talking about business matters.

Luckily for me, the daughter of the family, Fuyumi she was called, was not like her three brothers and her father. She was so fun to talk with, and I had promised to teach her how to make old clothes into fancy and personal items (which I often did), and the two of us had decided to try out a lot of the cool things in town, like the theatre, the movies, the amusement park and lots of other things.

The youngest son in the family was at the same age as me, and very clever. But I was quite smart myself: I had almost as good grades as him. Because of that, the father of the family seemed to like me. He mentioned something once, about me "becoming an important friend of the family", but I didn't quite understand what he meant.

Now, back to the first morning of mine in Japan:

After finishing my trip to the bathroom, taking a quick shower and putting my clothes on, I hurried down the stairs to the kitchen. There the breakfast was standing neatly on a table, and the youngest of the brothers, wearing some sort of uniform, and his father were sitting there already. It was quite embarrassing, but I couldn't remember the boy's first name, so I thought it wisest to just call him by his last name for now. The father simply nodded to me, and I did the same back. Then I turned to the boy and spoke some of the little Japanese I knew, "Ohayo, Ootori-sama!", and sat down. It certainly would take me some time to get used to the Japanese traditions, and especially the food!

After breakfast Mr. Ootori went to work, and as soon as he was out of the door, the youngest son coughed to get my attention. "I would like to inform you, Walker-sama, that at our school we wear uniforms. As for today, it would be nice if you could wear my sister's old dress, then we'll get you a new one shortly." He then handed me a pale yellow dress, with puffed sleeves and a white collar. I shuddered. "Thank you, Ootori-sama, but that really is one terrible piece of clothing! I could never wear such a thing!" Quickly I covered my mouth. I tended to speak my mind very easily, which was not always appreciated. The boy in front of me looked at me for a moment with a face carved in stone. Then his lips started to move, and I expected the worst, but all that came out was a slight chuckle, before he pushed his glasses up his nose with his finger. "It is highly preferable for you to wear a uniform, we don't want you to look like an ordinary commoner," he smiled, and handed me a light blue blazer, like his own. "How about this one?" At first I looked at him sceptically, but then a great smirk spread across my face. "If I wear that jacket… Then it's all right to fresh the outfit up a bit, right?" I grinned wildly as he pulled his glasses up one more time and nodded. "As long as you wear some of the uniform," he sighed.

Quickly I made it to the bathroom again (may I add it was my private bathroom) and changed into some red tight jeans, a white shirt, and I also added some red accessories, matching my now shock red legs. Faster than I thought possible for me, seeing me as one of the slowest runners ever, I was on my way out of the door with the boy after me. At a school where everyone dressed the same, I would sooo be noticed, and some would call me crazy, and other would call me brave. I loved to be both.