Kodai Kaze
Chapter One: Sora Senshi
As sunlight crept through the open window, deep violet eyes awoke to the chilly October morn. Her black hair blowing in the slight breeze, Sora Senshi awoke to find herself twenty minutes late… usual timing for the young teen who had a knack for oversleeping the day away… She was just that kind of person. Laid back and relaxed and not caring what other people say. Sora had a strict thought to live by: People who speak their minds openly are idiots. Especially if their mind shouldn't be spoken about. Therefore, she had little or no respect for the ones who teased and under-minded people who were different than themselves.
"SORA! Get up! You're late again!" was the first real sound that Sora started her day to. Her mother's screeching disapproval of her elaborate scheme of lateness. Deciding to listen to the banshee, Sora reluctantly climbed into the shower. As soon as she was done, she stepped into the room that she called home, which had been haphazardly and completely covered with Anime, J-pop, J-rock, and other Japanese posters in the last 4 1/2 months.
Ignoring the paradise of perfection that she had created in her room, Sora somehow managed to find her way to her closet and decided on today's outfit choices. In the end, she finally came to a concluding choice of a long red skirt, a matching turtle neck, and of course, her signature boots. Standing 4 inches off the ground, these infamous boots were feared school wide. No one could even remember how many broken bones and other miscellaneous injuries these all mighty boots of appalling power had created. Or how many toes they had consumed… And quite frankly, no one really wanted to know.
As she ran towards the door, she made sure to grab Muteki, her beloved saxophone. People also feared this instrument of doom. Sora had developed a knack for whacking people over the head with Muteki frequently. And yes, people had ended up in the hospital… There was one rule with Muteki: Don't make him mad. Ever. It spells out bloody murder for you and anyone near.
Finally done getting dressed, Sora rushed out the door, at least an hour late, and headed for the black Wrangler Jeep in the driveway. The Jeep was her baby. No one had ever dared to touch it, and no one seemed very keen on the undertaking of this dreadful assignment. The last person to even attempt to try it, had ended up in the hospital on life support. As usual, no one knows how, and no one has the guts to ask.
When the feared duo of Sora and her Jeep skidded out of the driveway, the mailbox never even had time to dodge. Poor old thing. That had to have been the twenty-ninth time this week and it was only Wednesday. After zooming down the road, completely ignorant to the accident with the mailbox, Sora was running approximately an hour and fifteen minutes late. Not that she cared in the least. Who cared if she had a record? It sure didn't matter to her. It's not like she had a clean record either… The poor garage. How was she supposed to know that matches and gas went boom when combined?
I know that this chapter was really short, and that so far it's all original fiction and seemingly serious, but I promise you. That's all going to change in a couple of chapters. *evil grin*
Amaya