A/N: Hi there!

While this isn't exactly a rewrite of the series, since I am going to try and incorporate original scenes, there also will be mentions of canon events (memorable antics of the characters, beach trips/sports festivals). I'm also going to incorporate some events that were mentioned in the magna or anime, but not actually seen.

I've noticed that most, if not all, Azumanga Daioh fics I've read are set in third person POV. However, I thought first person might be better suited here, as the fic will generally follow Sakaki's thoughts, reactions, and so on, but in a way that hopefully adds to her character and doesn't make her out to be a Mary Sue.

This is also on AO3's Azumanga Daioh archive, if you'd like to check that out.

I'll be updating regularly, but I'll let you know if I think that might change.

"…no one knew me, although they thought they did.
And that if people thought of me as little as I thought of them then what was love?"
—from "Magdelene—The Seven Devils" by Marie Howe

Chapter One

I was the tallest girl in the class.

I had expected that.

I was also the girl, it seemed to be, with the most filled-out figure.

I had expected that too, in the back of my head, the place where I shuffled away thoughts that I didn't really want to think about.

I recognized some of the girls, and a couple of the boys, as I swept past groups of my fellow students. They were leaning against desks, or sitting in chairs, all chatting away about how their summers had been. Of course, I only knew them by name.

I did not stop to chat.

I had nothing to chat about, and even if I had, I couldn't have made myself jump into a conversation like that — feet first.

The high school — my high school, the high school I was walking across the first floor of, surrounded by four walls of stone but also by dozens, hundreds of walls I could not penetrate, not the strong, silent, girl, oh no, not her — was fine. It was better then fine, actually. I hadn't expected to come here; I thought I would end up at a lesser place, a school where Tokyo University accepted no graduates.

I had thought wrong.

I found a seat by the window, towards the back of the room, still empty, still unclaimed. You would think window seats would get taken the quickest — they were the best for daydreaming, all those clouds shifting and tumbling, I knew that so well — but apparently there were no daydreamers in Class 1-3.

Or perhaps there were, and they had overslept.

I always had trouble sleeping, when I was younger. I had hated to get out of bed, hated the sound the clock made when the time came for me to get up. Now I got out of bed the moment the sound of the alarm entered my ears; there were cats out there, in my neighborhood, and all I had to do was reach out a hand to them.

I sat down in my seat.

I kept an eye on my bag. (Maybe there would be some hyper person who unapologetically chucked stuff out of your bag, and then laughed hysterically as you tried to pick your things up).

I thought about the glimpses of tails and whiskers I had seen last year, when I was still in ninth grade, when I still wished every night that I would somehow slow down. Just pause life for a minute or two, so everyone could catch up with me, and so I wouldn't feel so alone. So huge, so large and out of place, like a statue everyone admires but no one bothers to take a closer glance at. And the statue — well, it crumbles away from a lack of cleaning. It grows mold. It turns to dust.

I would not crumble. I would not grow mold. I would not turn to dust.

I would find someone here, here in this new school where there were some old faces and some brand-new and some only partly known. I had to find someone.

Or maybe I would just sit here in my seat, stare out the window, and hope the admiring whispers — or even nervous murmurs — would evaporate. I had done that for three years. I could do it for more, all the way through high school and all the way until after college.

But the universe didn't want that to happen, because the universe brought a late teacher, a small genius, an almost constantly blushing girl, an airhead, a self-described "full of spunk" teen, a weightwatcher, and a rival all to me.

I still don't know how it happened.

One minute I was sitting at my desk, attempting to replace thoughts of silently sitting with happier ideas. There would be a discovery for a cure for cat allergies. I would find friends would wouldn't have to look very high up to me, who would understand that I was more than "cool". Artistic abilities would make my fingers twitch to sketch a perfect drawing.

The next minute, shouts filled the room.

"I'm Tomo Takino!"

"Tomo, shut up!"

I turned my head to see what was happening; I had been studying some early-morning clouds bumbling their way across the April sky.

A short girl — well, everyone looked short to me — was in a constant whirl of movement and energy as she came into the room. I assumed this was Tomo. (She would probably be the hyper person of the class—hopefully she wouldn't pull all my books out of my bag and I wouldn't have to stammer my way through an awkward conversation).

Another girl — taller, brown-haired, bespectacled, annoyed glare looking like it had been there since the start of time — followed Tomo into the classroom. She shut the door behind her.

I watched from my desk as conversations dropped to a whisper.

Huh.

I had gotten that treatment too. Everyone hadn't exactly stopped talking, but there had been a momentary pause as all the students had taken in the sight of a tall, pretty, quiet, cool, girl—

I bit my lip. That's not going to happen here. That's not going to happen here, I thought. It just won't.

"Ignore her," the brunette said to the suddenly silent students. "She's a little—"

"Awesome," Tomo interrupted. "Actually, it's more then just a little."

"Annoying, is what I was going to say."

"You're the annoying one, Yomi."

Yomi — for the brunette must be Yomi — looked even more annoyed. How was that possible? "I can't believe the first day of high school hasn't even started, and yet you already manage to piss me off."

Students, getting bored with this conversation, began to talk once more.

"You better get used to it," I heard Tomo say, as she plunked her bag down on a desk, situated on the other side of the room from me. "I got into this school, and there's no way I'm going to get out of it, and leave you here all alone. You would hate that, wouldn't you?"

Yomi rolled her eyes as she sat down — wait, was she sitting down next —

She was.

Someone was sitting in the desk next to me, and she hadn't even double-checked to make sure what she had seen was right; she was too focused on her friend.

"I wish you would leave," Yomi snapped at Tomo from across the room. "I'm never going to understand how you got in here."

Or maybe they weren't friends, after all; I couldn't tell.

"I'm a genius," Tomo gloated, as she sat down in her chair. "You don't understand my genius-isty, that's why you'll never understand."

"Genius-isty isn't even a word—"

BAM.

We all jumped.

Everyone fell silent again.

Those conversations must be so hard to follow.

It was the door opening that had scared us — the door opening, and then smacking into its slot in the wall, it moved with such force.

In the doorway stood…

That's going to be the homeroom sensei?

She didn't look like a teacher at all. Maybe it was her downcast expression. Maybe it was her long, wavy, tousled hair. Maybe it was the look in her eyes that signaled she was about to fall asleep at any moment.

"This is Class Three, yeah?" she asked as she walked over to her desk, eyes following her every movement.

Mute nods.

"Cool."

She sat down at her desk, glanced around, and didn't immediately fall asleep.

I felt myself relax a little. I hadn't expected a teacher like this, but the fact that she wasn't collapsing the minute she got a chance to made me forgive her for scaring me.

Somewhat, anyway.

"I'm Tanizaki-sensei, and I'm going to be your homeroom teacher. If you hear anything from Class Four about how I was in there for a second this morning, it didn't happen, you got that?"

Nods once more, faces looking like they would much rather go back to talking.

I lifted my left forearm from the desk, and rested my chin on my fist. I was near the back of the classroom. It's not like Tanizaki-sensei would take much notice of my boredom, anyway; teachers don't tend to.

Out of the corner of my eye, I watched Tanizaki-sensei scratch out her name on the board, the chalk making harsh complaints as it woke up for the first time.

Tanizaki Yukari, she wrote.

She sat back down with a satisfied smile directed toward us, and uncrumpled a piece of paper. It was the attendance sheet, I guessed. There would probably be a mad scramble to see who were the students that no one had spoken to yet.

Like me.

My fist tightened as I wondered how people would react to knowing my name, and knowing what I looked like, all in the same moment. Perhaps they would be so overwhelmed by how cool I was that they would forget my name in an instant.

"Wada Misaki." And so the roll call began.

"Here."

Students shifted in their chairs to see Wada Misaki. I knew it.

"Matsuda Noa."

"Here." Another wave of chairs creaking in a chorus as students turned to look at the girl.

"Mizuhara Koyomi."

"Here," the brunette from before said. Yomi, or Koyomi, as it seemed to be.

I began to stop listening to the list of names. There were more important things to think of, anyway, like how a certain cloud almost had the shape of a small Neko Koneko...

I squinted. If the wind would just blow a bit more cloud away, then it would look better…

And then, as if from far away, I thought I heard my name called; I could only make out part of it.

"…Sakaki…"

"Here," I said quietly.

Heads glanced over to see who I was, as I had known they would have. I tensed up, wanting to hide, wanting to turn away and squeeze myself into a tight ball as a cat might.

Stop staring at me stop staring at me stop staring at me—

"She looks so cool!" someone whispered to their neighbor; the majority of my classmates agreed as the idea jumped from desk to desk.

Oh, no.

I had thought that people would stop admiring me in ninth grade, and now they were taking my panic and discomfort and turning it into…coolness. Toughness. Whatever they wanted to call it.

"Mihama Chiyo," Tanizaki-sensei continued, and I felt myself relax as intent gazes dropped away from me.

Utter silence followed her words.

Tanizaki-sensei sighed deeply.

"I should let you children know that while I am usually — usually — a nice person…"

I didn't pay much attention as she continued speaking; the possible cloud-Koneko was close to gaining a larger cloud-Neko underneath, and I couldn't take my eyes away from the increasing cuteness. At least there might be something that made me happy today.

"…been a tough morning for me…"

The cloud-Neko was almost underneath the cloud-Koneko; I could just see the tips of its ears.

"…I have suffered things you cannot imagine…that piece of crap, passing itself off as a bike…the nerve of it…"

When the door slid open and footsteps tapped across the floor, everyone seemed to feel relieved that they had an excuse to stop listening. At least, I thought they were. The cloud-Neko was finally resting underneath the cloud-Koneko, and I wanted to paint a picture of it, it was so beautiful.

No…beautiful wasn't the right word for it.

Adorable.

That was it.

"Uwah, she's so adorable!"

For a moment, I thought the girl in the desk behind mine was referring to me.

Have I suddenly grown shorter? Do I not seem nervous? Did I forget to take out that ribbon from my hair this morning?

But no, such a thing could not happen to me, for as I glanced away from the window and over the heads of my classmates — remarkably easy, I had to admit — I realized that there was a kid, a young girl, standing at the front of the class, beside Tanizaki-sensei's desk.

The girl dressed like all the girls — the dark red skirt, the lighter red blouse — in the spring uniform. Yet she was amazingly short, even to me, and her ginger hair was in pigtails.

In short, she was quite adorable.

"Ah." Tanizaki-sensei seemed to be at a loss for words for a moment, but she managed to get to her feet and come around her desk to stand besides the girl. "Yes."

The girl glanced up at Tanizaki-sensei, and smiled. If possible, she looked even cuter.

Aww… I thought, forgetting everything for a moment, except the cuteness radiating from the front of the classroom. She's so cute! She's even cuter then the cloud-Neko Koneko.

Tanizaki-sensei was smiling — Smiling? I guess the cuteness makes her forget to act pissed — as she said, "I'd like to introduce you to Mihama Chiyo. She's our new transfer student, from…from…some elementary school. Don't bother asking me the name."

"M-my name is Mihama Chiyo," Chiyo said, giving us the gift of a nervous smile. "I—it's very nice to meet you all."

I'd forgotten what kids sounded like at that age; Otouto was only four, and he sounded nowhere near as cute as Chyio. Maybe I was so used to my little brother that I failed to see all his cuteness.

"Even though Chiyo-chan is only ten years old, she's so smart it was decided that she should come to high school," Tanizaki-sensei said, smiling broadly while Chiyo blushed. It made her look even more endearing.

Gasps of awe from the class; we had a genius and an adorable kid on our hands.

I wonder if she's smart enough to realize how I only seem to be cool…

"Don't go picking on her because the little brat just happens to be smart," Tanizaki-sensei said, still smiling. "I expect better then that from you all."

Little brat…? It that an American term of affection, or something?

Around me, my classmates began to call out encouragement to Chiyo-chan.

"Good luck, Chiyo-chan!"

"We're all supporting you!"

"You'll do great here!"

I wanted to add something too — something like Would you be friends with me? — but my thoughts refused to let me get a firm grip on them, and I ended up with nothing but silence.

It was my first lunchtime on my first day in a new school, and I was going to eat it alone, as I sat at one end of a crowded cafeteria table. This high school had a cafeteria, where everyone gathered to eat lunch together…strange.

I could have gone to sit at the other end of the table, where other girls from my homeroom were sitting (and smiling in my direction, as though I were a cute cat that might simply walk away, aloof, if they came closer).

Yet I couldn't make myself sit near them. They weren't talking loudly — in fact, everyone in sight was talking in a courteous, even-toned manner to one another, save a certain Tomo Takino — but I knew if I sat with those girls, I would barely talk at all. I would blush, I would stammer out one word answers, I would end up feeling lonely and sad.

It was either that or enjoy a quiet lunch with myself.

At least it was pleasing to see that the contents of my bento box looked good.

Rice.

A hardboiled egg, the shell still intact.

Pieces of lightly grilled chicken.

Carrots and corn and pickles and cucumber.

There was nothing to do except bring bits of food to my mouth with my chopsticks.

It's only the first day, I told myself as I ate. Everyone is still getting used to one another. I'll find some friends; I know I will. And the other students'll get used to me soon…they'll stop staring at me like…like how I probably stare at cute things.

They have to.

This isn't ninth grade anymore; these are high schoolers. They have more maturity. They'll give me a day before they start to…

Start to…

Whatever it is they do. Say I'm trouble, but in a good way. Admire me.

They could at least give me that.

They'll probably think I'm good at sports…I guess I am, but I'd much rather pet a cat then do…sports-related activities.

I wonder if I'll see any cats on my way home. It's spring, after all…they should be nosing around, sniffing the air, sneezing at the scent of pollen, purring as I scratch between their ears…

I let out a sigh at the thought of a cat purring as I petted it. Such a thing had never actually happened — the closest I had ever gotten to a real cat was last year, when I had seen neighborhood cats on my way to school. Scruffy in places and touting tangled whiskers, they were incredibly, unbearably, cute.

Yet I had managed to bear it.

And this would be the year when I would pet those cats.

I was sure of it.