Her POV

Tap, tap, tap.

The sound of my footsteps echoed through the narrow underground station tunnels. Empty, so alone. The night had already fallen, lights illuminated the crowded city of Tokyo. Clutching my brown leather suitcase in my right hand and my train station ticket ready in the other, I hurriedly made my way to the appropriate platform. The evening breeze whistled through the corridors, running down stairs and gently picking up the edges of my plaid school uniform skirt. Outside the capital was bursting with fluorescent signs, and bustled with teenagers who radiated with the energy of youth. This was common on a Friday night; students heading out to associate with their friends around cafes in Shibuya or wandering around multi-storied shopping outlets. White collared workers on the other hand, would either be returning home to their families, or gathering with co-workers for karaoke or drinking. Either way the city never slept; people swarmed in every corner.

I, Nanase Mika, had no business basking in the bright lights of Tokyo. My home was far, by the JR Sobu Line Rapid Service, it was approximately 90 minutes away and that was if I departed from the central station. I lived in Narita, a quiet half suburban-half farming city on the outskirts of the capital in the Chiba prefecture. My family was of the lower class, hardworking historical farmers who grew rice and other assorted vegetables. With the unstable economy and the effects of climate change, it has been an endless struggle to make ends meet. It isn't just us though; other farming communities in the area are experiencing the same pressure. Let's also not forget that I also reside right next to the evil international Narita airport. In 1966, my Grandfather was involved with the Sanrizuka-Shibayama Rengo Kūkō Hantai Dōmei; a union that opposed the construction of the airport. They were going to take away everything from us. I remember hearing endless stories about the riots and gatherings he was involved with on rainy days. How it pained him that they couldn't reason with the people.

Despite the battles that occurred between the civilians and the government, they were at a loss. No remorse. The union burnt down the new homes of anyone who relocated and wrote countless threats. My Grandfather always reflected on himself, "Aren't we a community too?" In 1971, the government began to use force. Area by area, house by house. Pieces of my Grandfather's home and heritage were destroyed by the ruthless officials. At one stage, 297 protestors were arrested and 1000 policemen were involved. Despite all the efforts of the small rural community, families scattered themselves and settled elsewhere. Sometimes I like to believe that the gods and spirits had rewarded my Grandfather who was lucky enough to live right outside of the allocated construction site zone. His home, my home, was saved. Although I call it a miracle, he denounces it as a curse. His friends and neighbours detested him and his good fortune, bitter about losing their homes. Slowly, we were the only ones left in Sanrizuka. Deep down I could always see it in his eyes, the longing to see his hometown at peace just as it was. Even on his deathbed, my Grandfather was the strongest.

I detest the government and those who destroy the poor to make way for the rich. Those who demolish perfect small communities in an effort to build what they feel is better and more fitting. The wealthy and powerful never consider that we simply do not need their ignorant ideas.

I will never be a dirt road for you to pave.

My family has always been loud and crowded. My mother and father worked in the fields every day. I have four elder brothers named: Maya, Jin, Sano and Yuuta. Maya is the eldest child and never had the chance to go to university, although being the smartest student and the best at everything. At the time of his final year of high school, we were completely broke and couldn't afford to admit him to any school. He's 21 now and helps my mother and father in the fields. With light tan hair and a kind and reassuring smile, he keeps us all in order like a third parent. Despite his girly name and gentle nature, he's the rock of the family. If Maya were to sink, we would all go down with him. He takes care of all of us younger siblings and does the household chores such as cleaning and cooking. Maya's cooking is the best, especially sukiyaki.

Jin is the complete opposite. Jin is the youngest of all my brothers at 18, and although being the youngest, he's the second tallest (the first being Maya). He's a reckless and headstrong boy who doesn't listen to anyone. Not even the wise and caring words of Maya. Jin has black sleek hair that comes over his face in a fringe, completely different to everyone else in the family who has a shade of brown hair. Somehow, I don't know how, Jin always manages to get himself into trouble. Whether it's at school or outside of school, Jin is usually found at the scene of the crime. He barely attends school and skips classes when he does. His attention is somewhat diverted as he is amused by the bright lights of Tokyo; he feels as if it is calling him. He usually spends his time on a hiatus in Tokyo, although he attends school in Narita. We've never got along; he always finds that slice of time in his day to annoy me. Jin has always been the black sheep of the family.

Yuuta is the carefree spirit within the household. Although he's eccentric and sometimes weird, his comedic relief brightens my day. I love Yuuta a lot. He's 19 with slightly orange hair and has a strong build from his athletic abilities. Although he's not a genius like Sano, he's not a rebel like Jin. Yuuta is the balance of good and bad in the family and he gives a sense of harmony. He's that one happy-go-lucky guy who doesn't have it all, but will someday build something from what he has. I admire his positive and relaxed attitude, as well as his ability to maintain a job in the city as waiter. Ever since he was young, he has always been a team leader and an avid contributor in the family. Yuuta does his part for us, which makes up for the times when he acts up. He's my best friend in the family.

Sano is the second eldest at 20 years of age. To be entirely honest, I've never had a close relationship with him at all. I remember him being there when I was a child. He was there, and he wasn't at the same time. Sano is extremely hard working and is the quiet one among us. He has kept to himself and has taken care of himself ever since he was 8. Sano relies on no one, and is entirely independent. When he was 16, he was offered a scholarship to study Biomedicine at Oxford University in London. He writes a letter every month to greet us but he hasn't visited since then. My memory is a bit blurred, but the last time I saw him he wore black rimmed glasses and had coarse brown hair.

At the beginning of the year I had entered Kaijo High School, a prestigious college that was famous for its pride and achievements. For the past 10 years of my young life, I had been incredibly ambitious in accomplishing my goals. I aspire to get a job that pays a substantial amount of money. I want to restore our broken home and farm to its former glory and fulfil my grandfather's happiness. My former middle school was a poor and quaint place with minimal resources. Even against the odds, I persevered. I took notes in every class and took extensive tutoring lessons. Every night I revised over my day's work and completed extra homework. Year after year, I was undefeated in my school studies. But due to my busy school life, I never managed to gain any friends. I never went anywhere.

Besides school, I stared at slanted concrete ceilings in my bare spare time. Over the years I grew accustomed to this loneliness.

I don't need friends. Friends don't earn you money, they cost money.

I graduated middle school with top scores and earned my rightful place at Kaijo during the entrance exam. Kaijo High School was placed somewhat in the centre of Tokyo and my parents worried about my safety when travelling there every day. Everyone at home was so proud of me when I passed the exam; the first girl in the family had gotten into the high school of her choice. Maya teasingly stated that he was jealous of my success and then there was a wonderful party held in my honour. I knew I had to work hard in Kaijo, everyone was pouring in their little income to pave the way for my studies. Their hopes were riding on my shoulders.

Despite my triumphs, my rightful position in the school was not acknowledged by the others students nor faculty members. Over time I had begun to realise and accept the fact that I was a speck of commoner dust in comparison to the wealthy and pampered students of Tokyo. My efforts, my sheer determination and hard work, had been for naught. I was an outsider who dared to dream and lust for a higher education. It hadn't helped that I wasn't especially attractive or decently dressed either.

My long and dry auburn hair tangled at the ends and my overgrown and unshaped fringe hid my dull brown eyes. My skin wasn't delicate or beautifully toned; instead it was a sickly pale colour. Throughout my life people had always asked if I was ill due to my complexion, but it was actually because of the lack of sunlight I had gotten from studying all the time. I've always hated my skin; it exaggerated my facial my facial flaws. Not only did my financial status segregate me from the crowd, but also my appearance. It seemed like no one could have remotely thought of the idea that a farm-girl peasant could even be allowed to enrol in their school.

When you attend a school where everyone despises your very existence for no logical explanation, you begin to wonder and conjure up your own hypothetical excuses for it in your own time. Perhaps my eyes are too small? Was my voice too deep? Is my nose too flat? Are my thighs too large? Am I too short? It all seemed to make sense, considering I had been called all this by my fellow classmates. But why was this affecting me now? I had spent the majority of my life not being accepted by others around me. But then again, they didn't treat me horribly; they treated me as if I was non-existent.

Perhaps in a time like this, I actually wanted someone to comfort me?

If I were to be totally honest with myself, I'd say that I've been dwelling too much on all these thoughts.Remember your dream. Never forget. It's likely that the negativity has finally reached my heart. However, I'm in too deep. I cannot run. I can only hide in my own pity. How can I tell my family? That half way through the school year they've broke me. I can't even score compared to the other students, not that the teachers mark me fairly anyway. All their money is being poured down the drain, like the teardrops falling onto my sleeves, nothing will change.

Where am I going?

I hold my briefcase close to my chest, my heart thumps painfully. I'm thinking about this again! Not again! I can't do this anymore, I don't want to cry. Crystal droplets roll down my frost nipped cheeks and stain the navy collar of my uniform. I begin to tumble and fall to my knees as I turn into a deserted station corridor. Cradling my head in my arms, I slowly rock into a quiet sob that doesn't alarm any passer-by's interest.

As I slowly look up from the bundle that I've made in my arms, I see him.

His hand extends towards me, as he looks upon me with a soft smile curling on his lips. His blonde sleek hair shining against the tunnel lights and his beautiful long lashes and deep golden eyes staring into mine. A silver piercing dangled from his left ear.

"Pretty girls shouldn't cry."