Yes, no restrictions like I had to put on Mia's story! This story slightly deviates from the Kingdom Hearts feel, but towards the end, it goes back on track. I'm happy with it and I hope you are too :D
My body is a human clock. If I have to be at school by eight, I will be up by six-if I want to wake up at seven, I will wake up at seven on the dot without fail. My brother was the same way when we were little kids.
I trudge up the hill with my textbooks in hand. This is so stupid, why do we have to go to school to return books and finish up finals? I can't wait to be a junior-that way at least when school is done, it's done.
"Mizuki, wait up!" Sakura calls me from behind. I flash a phony smile at her as she jogs over to me with everything spilling out of her polo shirt.
"Sakura, please stuff the goodies back in," I wince as she nervously chuckles and pushes her size Ds into her white polo shirt. With the sleeve of my polo, I wipe beads of sweat off my forehead. The humidity today is sickening-the AC had better be on full blast when I get to school.
"Come on…I'm getting there…faster than…you," Sakura pants as she struggles to keep up with my speed. Our black-laced shoes click against the pavement rapidly.
"Yeah sure."
"What's your problem?"
"It is as hot as fuck. I have to go to school. This trudge up the hill is the worse part of my morning-that's my problem."
"We're almost there," she shrugs. "Can you believe it's our last day in school?"
"Yes."
Finally, we reach the top of the hill and spot the school in sight. The sun blinds my hazel eyes as I step into the sunlight. We cross the car-barren street and stride into Benjamin's Academy, receiving a faint blast of AC once we step into the hall. The hallways are packed with other underclassmen and upperclassmen, swarming by the lockers like bees to a beehive. When they see me, they put their head downs and pretend to have difficulty opening their lockers.
"Daichi!" Sakura shouts as if our "friends" can't hear us if they stand an inch away from us.
Daichi's a sophomore, like me, with greasy, frizzy black hair. His golf shirt is unbuttoned and I don't think his forest green slacks are either. The other sophomore next to him is Ana, with straight pigtails, blows up a wad of bubble gum. Ren is one of those rare Japanese guys that are bequeathed with natural, dark blonde hair from American mothers and are born as eye-candy of all of the girls in school. Emiko is the only junior in this ridiculous group and thus is the ringleader.
"Good morning ladies," Ren greets us, holding two water bottles. "Water?"
"Thanks Ren," Sakura grabs it from him and moves closer to him with a goofy grin on her face. She really likes him like every other sap in this school, but his physical being annoys me. Why the hell do people like him exist? All he does is breathe and everyone is all over him.
"Mizuki?" Ren waves the bottle in my face.
"No thanks," I go to my locker at the end of the row and start turning the lock.
"Come on. You know your body needs water since we're made up of 50% of it."
I roll my eyes, open my locker, and drop the textbooks in.
"Wrong, dumbshit. 40% right Mizuki?" Ana punches Ren playfully, catching him off guard. The water bottle rolls on the floor, spilling the cold water everywhere.
"Crap, see what you made me did, baka*," he says jokingly. As he reaches for the bottle, Sakura and Ana leap on his back while Daichi tries pulling them off with the strength of his 140 pounds of body weight. Emiko, who was watching my interaction with Ren cautiously, now leans on Daichi, jabbing her elbow into his back.
All five of them make up their own exclusive clique, nicknamed The Clique, by moi, which exists only to torture the freshmen and visiting junior high school kids. I would never consider myself one of them-I'm more like a groupie.
"Mizuki, why don't you just let your hair down instead of leaving it in a bun all the time?" Emiko asks, still leaning on Daichi.
"The same reason you can't get a 70 on a biology test," I retort, shutting my locker. Before she can unleash junior superiority on me, the bell rings, signaling our destination to homeroom.
'
"Okay time's up!" Sensei announces. "Puts your pens down. Don't say a word as I come over to collect the test booklet."
The class groans and rushes to finish up the remaining parts of our final test. Sensei comes around the room, picking up the answer sheets from each of us.
"Oh come on Sensei, you can't expect us to finish a test like this in an hour!" one of students protests.
"Genius American Mizuki did though."
"Hush!" Sensei silences the class temporarily.
"I thought Americans were supposed to be morons," a guy student remarks on the other side of the room.
I roll my eyes. Sensei doesn't bother quieting them down, since he is basically a welcome mat.
"Hey, want me to shove your balls into your vagina?" Daichi spits, sitting behind me. I groan and slam my forehead to the desk. It's the last day I have to see this people ever again. The only reason The Clique thinks of me as their friend because I do their homework for them and because I'm an American like Ren.
I stare out the sunny window, wishing to be in California, where all my real friends are. Why did Dad move us to Japan-oh right, I remember, "to get in touch with our family roots". It's really because of what happened to Mom and Haruki.
By the time I focus back in the classroom, it is Paper-Plane War I with cursing. Sensei disregards the chaos, checking the tests he just collected with lightning speed.
"Mizuki, I need you to be on my side," Daichi taps my shoulder with a paper plane. I watch the paper plane he toss dance in the air before being knocked down by another one. "Grab a piece of paper."
"I'll pass," I nonchalantly decline.
'
"Finally we get to be juniors! I hated being a damn sophomore," Sakura says as we stand outside the school with teenagers pouring out. "Just gotta make sure I get the report card before my parents do. Anyways, we gotta go eat out to celebrate."
"Yup."
"Agreed."
"You know it."
Ren nods.
"Nah."
"Oh come Mizuki," Sakura whines, shaking my arm. I shake my head and pull my arm back.
"I don't feel like it. I'll go home."
I start striding away from The Clique, sensing their glares at my back.
"We're meeting up at the park tomorrow, you better be there!" Emiko shouts as I continue to walk away.
Why bother? They're not my friends.
When I get to my house, which is a twenty-minute walk, I precipitate on my king-sized ivory bed with a heavy sigh. I'm not in the mood to watch a movie and I definitely don't want to talk my dad, who's coming home the day after tomorrow. I turn on my side and pick up the photograph of the life I used to have before everything changed.
Mom's hair was the color of a milk chocolate Hershey's bar and it reached down to her behind. She had the gentlest greyish blue eyes that I've ever seen, and always wore the most stylish hats and dresses, since we are pseudo-rich class. Dad had been much younger looking and looked less Asian in America than he does when he comes here. He's a commander of the military and is barely home. Haruki is my twin brother with all of my features with the exception of short hair. Both of us were three-years-old in this picture.
I long to go back to such a time. Dad, I still feel like an outsider here, even though my grandfather and dad are Japanese and that makes me Italian-Japanese, and I moved to Tokyo four years ago. I feel like I'm in a different world and that I don't belong-I just want to leave this place.
*idiot