Okay, this is my first fanfiction in English and as you may have recogniced my mother language is not English. I'm only learning it since almost six years at school.
I really hope you'll like the story and some of you will review.
Tell me if there are any big mistakes in my writing or simply what you think of the story!
Besides: I know there are already some fics about the live of Tenou Haruka but I liked to try one on my own!
Well, have fun with reading the fic and don't forget a small review!
1.
The first thing I remember thinking back of my childhood is when I was about three years old. It was a fight between my mother and myself. She wanted me to wear a dress, which looked like she had stolen a doll, and make- up. I hated it. I never wanted to wear dresses and thus I tried everything a three year old one could do to avoid those terrible things. But in the end I lost. My mom was stronger than I. At last I had to wear this dress and also the make- up. She put it maybe five centimeters thick onto my face that I still wonder how my skin was still able to breathe. But if that wouldn't be enough she put my long blonde hair in silly curles with pink barretts.
I really felt like a doll!
If you think or try to asure me that she will soon stop, you're wrong. Tenou Hana never stopped to try to make out of her daughter a doll. I think she never understood why I behaved like a boy. So did I! I only knew since I can remember that I only felt good when I wore trousers and acted like a boy. My best friends were always guys. We fought playfully against each other and did a lot of crap.
My dad always called me a tomboy- and that's what I exactly was: a tomboy!
I think I was five when I met my best friend Kazu. We played at his house and I always cursed because my long hairs flew into my sight.
"What about cutting them off?", he asked. He was two years older than I but I was almost as tall as Kazu.
"Mama would kill me", I said with a smirk on my face. Kazu understood and fetched a pair of children scissors.
I sat on his bed and he was behind me cutting of my long blonde mane. With every cut I felt like my head got lighter and I saw how hundreds of strands were falling down to the floor.
"Ready", he called at least and jumped of the bed. He went in front of me and look at me.
"Wow, you really do look like a guy now, Haruka", said Kazu.
I stood up and looked into the mirror and he was right. The girl Tenou Haruka did no longer exsist- there was only the boy.
My hair looked messy! Some parts were shorter than other- but they were short. The deep green eyes of my reflection stared at me and it felt like they were looking over myself. My white shirt was dirty and dusty because Kazu and I had a little fight in the mudd. The knees of my jeans were sliced and one was scratched. I my face was also a small scratch from Kazus finger nails.
Yes, indeed, I really looked like a boy.
"Cool! Thank ya", I said and smiled happily at him.
I think I was never so happy.
But when I came home my nemesis was already waiting. My mom seemed near a faint when she saw me. After she picked up her courage she yelled at me what I did with my hair.
"I cut it off!", I told her proud. The next thing I knew was how her hand burnt on my cheeks. She had slapped me for the very first time of my life into the face. Tears were burning in my eyes but I fought them back. I was glaring at her angrily and I think I can remember how she shrunk.
"I hate you!", I whispered in my already husky voice. I left her behind, ran into my room and slammed the door. No seconds later I was lieing on my bed and tears were running down my cheeks.
Why did she slapped me? Because I cut off my hair? Because I wasn't the girl she wanted me to be? Because I wanted to be a boy?
For the first time I felt like a part of me was missing. Maybe it was because I felt like being in the wrong body. Now I do not feel like that anymore. I've acceppted it and it was almost a few years later when I found out how entertaining it could be when people think of me as a boy and then find out the truth.
Well, I do not know how long I was lieing on my bed but I think after a few hours I heared how the door opened and someone came in. There were heavy footsteps and I knew it was my dad, who had come home from a business trip. I wouldn't say we were a very rich family but money was never a matter. My dad worked for a big company and earned enough for all of us. Unlike this my mom was only good in spending all the money in silly things like the thousand dress which looked like all 999 before.
"What's up, Ruka?", he asked me and knelt in front of my bed.
"Nothing", I lied. I didn't want to see him my tears.
"Has it something to do with your hair?", he asked and touched it tenderly. Silently I turned around to face him. He wiped away my tears when he saw the red imprint of my mothers hand on my cheek. My dad kissed it and huged me.
"I love your hair, my little. But maybe a barber should correct it a little bit", he said and gave me a bright smile.
"Okay."
"Good. By the way, I've something for you."
"What?", I asked impatient. He always had something for me when he came back from a trip.
"Come", he only told me and lifted me up. When we came down I saw a leather overall and a helmet on the table.
I ran to it and surveyed it carefully. It was a motorbike overall I wished me for over one year. One year ago I visited with my dad a motor race and I was truly fascinated. From that day on I also wanted to motor race and my dad had started to train me.
"Thank you dad!", I called and gave him a big hug.
"That's not all", he told me and guided me outside where his car was standing. Surprisingly it had a masked fan. Under the cover I could make out some funny contours.
My dad released the cover and it was sliding down to earth.
I couldn't tell when I was ever speechless. In that very moment I was speechless. On the fan was a motor bike for kids standing. I could only stare at it and couldn't believe it.
My own bike. My own bike! My own bike!
Those words were hammering in my brain.
"Thank you dad!", I cried and layed in his arms. Over his shoulder I was able to see my mothers face through the window and the disapprovel in her eyes.