Chapter 1: August week 1

Curtain rings screeched across the rail and the thick fabric was hurled to the side with a whoosh. Morning sunlight rudely barged into the bedroom, and I squirmed, irritated by the unwanted intrusion. My room was in such a perfect state with the curtains closed. Now it was ruined. I moaned wordlessly and wrenched my eyes from the blinding light.

"C'mon, [name]," my mom said. "Get up."

I lugged the covers up to my face, shielding my eyes from the garish white sphere in the sky, too dazzling to be looked at directly. "What time is it?" I managed to mutter, hugging the pillow tight against my chest.

"Half past ten."

Only ten? I stuffed my face into the pillows, not caring if it muffled my voice and made it difficult to breathe. "It's too early," I whined.

She was probably –I couldn't see with my face in the pillow- arching an eyebrow in mock exasperation. "You call half past ten early? When did you sleep last night?"

I raised three fingers, and willed myself to return to dreamland. Summer vacation could get rather uneventful. I was apt to dedicate myself to the computer around the clock, and I don't envy those my age that go out partying in the middle of the night and return home dead drunk. With a computer by my side and a serviceable internet connection, I practically spent my days on the bed, so why not sleep a little more?

There was a moment of silence, and her footfalls began to fade out of my bedroom. I could hear the smug, teasing note in my mom's voice. "Well, somebody's going to have good ol' cold cereal for breakfast instead of a warm pancake today."

I immediately flung back the covers and bolted awake. "Okay, okay, I'm up!"

My mom was an extremely busy person. I hardly see her on work days since she'd always rush to work and come back late in the evening. On Saturdays she would usually sleep the morning away, and will rarely get up to make breakfast like today. Her pancakes were the absolute best in the world and anything was better than the usual dose of cornflakes and milk.

"I knew you would." She laughed brightly and returned to the room to affectionately thread her fingers through my tangled hair.

I slid off the bed and grabbed the comb sitting on the nightstand. I drew it through the knots in my hair, and scrunched my nose whenever I snagged upon a particularly nasty lump to be straightened. Wiping the sleep from my eyes, I shuffle into the living room and halted in my tracks. A warm, delicious scent hit my nostrils, instantaneously triggering my mouth to water. Just as my mom promised, a plate of pancakes was already waiting for me on the table. She definitely knew that I wouldn't refuse the chance to eat them and made them beforehand.

"'Morning, dad!" I shouted over the blaring television.

My dad glanced up from his newspaper and hummed an answer. Although the television trumpeted the morning news, only half the information enlightened my dad's ears. How he managed to read with the television so loud, I do not know. He took a sip of the black coffee in his hands and returned his attention to the paper in his hands. The bitter fragrance of his coffee was so pungent I caught a whiff of it from where I was across the living room.

I swiftly devoured my pancakes within a few savoring gulps, and handed the plate to my mom. "[name], can you get the mail?" she asked as she rinsed my plate.

"Okay." Maybe it was time to actually step outside the house for once this week.

The sluggish summer humidity had yet to give way to the crispness of autumn and the sharp snap of winter. The yard was lush and green, and dotted by stray yellow flowers that poked through the grass and weeds. It wasn't too sunny at the moment, but there didn't seem to be any sign of rain. I slipped into my flip flops and checked the mailbox. There were three letters inside; two business letters for my mom and one for… me? I curiously examined the letter. It was quite bulky, and all that was printed on the white envelope was my name, the house address, and a stamp. Mysteriously, there weren't return addresses nor any emblems that would've hinted who sent it.

I dashed back into the house, tossing my mom's letters to the table, and withdrawing in to the privacy of my bedroom. I tore open the envelope and unfolded the letter.

Dear (full name),

We are pleased to inform you of your acceptance to World Academy W. The school year will begin on the fourth week of August. Campus introductions will start a week before the school opens. Enclosed with this letter is your student identification card and an arranged plane ticket along with a set of further instructions. We hope to see you in the Academy!

Sincerely,

Himaruya Hidekaz

Headmaster of World Academy W

The blood slowly drained from my face and the thumping of my awestruck heart was heavy and loud, amplified in the hollows of my chest. My fingertips were glued on the letter, pressing and pinching the paper till it crinkled. I lowered by gaze to the envelope. There was a plane ticket from [airport] to Narita International Airport in Japan protruding from the ragged opening. I tipped over the envelope so all the contents spilled out. A plastic card clattered down on my bed. It was a student ID with my name and picture printed on it.

Of all the people that submitted, they chose me? World Academy W was a place everyone from the geniuses of the class to average students like me hoped to get in. Why? This notorious academy was truly an international community. A student or two from every country around the world are selected and enrolled to represent their nationality in school for two years. Rumors say acceptance was granted to those who least expected it, and with me being chosen, it seems to be indeed true. With the chances so legendary, I didn't even bother to take interest in the academy after sending in the request. Even now with the letter right before my eyes, a tiny part of me was taking this as a joke. But put that pessimistic fraction aside, and the rest of me was launching the wildest of parties.

"Mom?" I clambered out of the room, the letter clenched in hand. In the living room, my parents were staring at me like I had gone crazy, scurrying in and out of my bedroom like a squirrel. I shoved the letter to my mom. "You won't believe this! You won't believe this!"

I bounced on my toes in endless excitement while it took forever for my mom to read. When she was done, she squeezed me tight in a hug. "That's wonderful! I'm so proud of you!"

"But, Mom, I had no idea how I got in!" I laughed deliriously. "And you know my grades aren't completely perfect."

"Nonetheless, dear, you must have done something good to get into one of the most elite schools in the world!" She unwound her arms around me and placed her hands on my shoulders. "We have to get ready! When does the plane ticket say you're leaving?"

"Next week Saturday."

She clapped her hands in delight. "Looks like we'll be shopping all day today!" My mom grinned and turned around to my dad. "Isn't it great?"

"Yes." He had replied with a smile, but the creases on his forehead betrayed his worries. "Do we have to money to send her there for two years?"

My heart deflated. All the skyrocketing enthusiasm crashed back down to earth. Compared to other places as privileged as World Academy W, their fees weren't as expensive, but there was still a considerable amount of money to be paid. With my dad's job not looking too well, we could get into trouble later on.

My mom shrugged as if that particular fact didn't bother her. "I'm sure we can manage. We've saved enough money for her to send her anywhere she wants to go."

"Are you sure?" I asked feebly. "I don't want to go if you're going to struggle for money."

"Nonsense!" she said. "We'll be just fine. How about you go take a bath real quick so we can go shopping and get all the things you need?"

"Okay." I hugged my parents gratefully. "Thank you so, so much!"