Living alone has its benefits. I'm only sixteen, but since my parents are almost always away on business, I'm on my own a lot. Most of the time, actually.

But because of this, I can clean, cook, balance a check book, do the laundry, do the grocery shopping, and still keep up with my studies…to a point. I'm a very self-sufficient person at a very young age, and my parents are very proud of me. But it's a normal occurrence. I'm used to it. I have to be. This isn't going to change anytime soon, so I can't complain. I have to accept it.

My mother works overseas as an ambassador. She's got a very important job in representing our country to others, and while she's famous in the world of politics, I'm glad that she left me home. I don't think I'd be able to keep up with her world. Plus, I'd hate to be in the spotlight. Politicians' children are always involved in some terrible scandal. I'd like to avoid that. I like my life the way it is, though I do admit I'd like to see my mother more.

My father is a writer. It is his passion, his calling…or so he tells me every time I see him. He's currently researching his newest work overseas as well. I believe it has something to do with the life of an American businessman. Or something equally boring (I still encourage you to read the book, as this is what puts food on my table). I think my parents are secretly on another honeymoon together and they just didn't want me to be insulted. I'll let them have their fun.

I live in a small, modest house. My parents could afford more—in fact, they have offered to let me move somewhere bigger—but I like where I am. It's small. Most of the time I'm the only one here anyway, so I wouldn't be comfortable living alone in a huge house.

And it's not that our house is small at all. It's actually a very nice sized house. There are two bedrooms—one is mine and the other is a guest room (that we never use); my parents sleep in the attic, which they converted into a bedroom/study, and they're never there anyway, since they're living out of suitcases—one bathroom, a kitchen, living room, and if you turn off the TV, we also have a dining room. There are two floors, of course, though most of the houses surrounding ours are single-story homes. I begged my parents for a two-story place, because I wanted a view of the Sakura trees during the spring.

And they're beautiful.

I've got an average home, a little-less-than-average family, and an overall average life. I go to school, of course, like any good child should. It is the law after all. And I'm a fairly good student. I always do my homework and I'm never in trouble at school. I get good grades in every subject (except biology, but I get help after school for that one) and I've never caused anyone any trouble.

I've got average looks. I'm a little on the shorter side at five feet and four inches tall. My eyes are brown, and my hair is brown as well. They're almost exactly the same shade, actually. My hair falls to the middle of my back but I usually have it up in pigtails to keep it out of my way. Otherwise it would hang in my face while I'm working on homework or cooking. My face is an average shape, and sits atop an average neck and shoulders. I'm on the slender side, but I have no real shape to my body. I'm straight as a wooden plank, unfortunately. No chest, no hips. But I don't really mind. It suits me fine, I suppose. And I don't really want a boyfriend anyway. Boys interfere with the studies.

My best friend's name is Hotaru. She's the best girl I've ever met in my life and I love her like a sister. Back when I was in grade school, her parents used to let her come over all the time because I was scared to be alone. Of course, I'm over that fear now, and Hotaru doesn't come over as often as she used to, but we're still close. And I love her for it. God only knows I need someone who's always around.

And I don't mean that to be mean to my parents. In order to be happy, they need to work. In order to keep food on the table as well. My table. I won't lie, I've toyed with the idea that maybe I was an accident, but I quickly brush that away and remind myself that my parents obviously love me, or they would have given me up.

And while my life might sound boring and uninteresting, I'll tell you now that I don't mind that. Not one bit. I like being average, boring, plain, and alone.

Oh, who am I kidding?

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I was bored out of my mind, but I wasn't about to complain. I don't want to be a burden to my parents. I went to school everyday like a good child, did my homework , cooked my dinner, took a bath, watched the news, did household chores, and then with whatever free time I had left, I read books or found a hobby to occupy myself (like trying new recipes or paying the bills) and then I would go to bed and start it all over the next morning.

I was dying of boredom. I missed my parents, and I wished Hotaru wasn't away on vacation with her family, because I was about to implode with the monotony.

I was thankful when he showed up.

Thankful. Oh so very thankful.

But scared. So, so scared.

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It was a normal day in the life of Mikan Sakura—oh, didn't I mention it before? That's my name! I went to school and came home eight hours later, after my biology tutoring sessions. I was dead tired, since I'd been up late the night before, studying for a test I'd forgotten about. I'd gotten little sleep and I wasn't particularly hungry. I was afraid I was coming down with a cold, actually, so I was planning on going straight to sleep when I got home and forgoing dinner and homework altogether.

As I stepped through the door and whispered "I'm home!" to no one, as usually, I felt suddenly very grimy and sweaty. I slid off my shoes and went to my room to get a towel, the sudden urge to shower overcoming me. I got a pink towel from my closet, stripped down and wrapped it around myself. I padded barefoot down the hall to the bathroom, pulling the hairbands from my pigtails as I went, and moving them onto my wrist until I could find more suitable place for them. I could feel my eyelids dropping and I knew this was going to be a short—but blissful—shower. I placed my hand on the door handle and slid it open, stepping in.

Out of habit, I was humming. I always hum in the bathroom. It's just something I do. I opened my eyes and the next thing I knew, I was staring at a pair of feet that weren't mine.

I stopped, obviously shocked, scared, and afraid to look upward, not sure of just how much clothing the other person in the room was wearing. Of course, I was more afraid of who the other person in the bathroom with me was. A murderer? Thief? Rapist?

I swallowed and allowed my gaze to travel north. I'd determined that the person was definitely male, and I discovered a towel a little ways up, and gave myself permission to keep going.

Tan skin, well developed muscles, and a nice face, even when painted with shock. The boy in front of me couldn't have been older than I was, and he was just as surprised as I was. He clutched at the towel at his waist with the same death-like grip I used on the towel at my chest. At that moment, I was glad I'd picked out the towel that covered the most of me.