CHAPTER ONE; REPUTATION

"Here we go again," I murmured as the limo pulled up in front of a huge school. Ouran Academy, my new school. I flipped my bust-length blonde hair out of my eyes and waited for the chauffeur, Nakazawa, to open the door for me.

When he did so, I stepped out into the bright sunlight. The sunlight hurt my seafoam-green eyes, so I put on a pair of shades. Not trying to be cool, just trying to not be in pain. I had really sensitive eyes, especially in bright sunlight. I just wasn't on friendly terms with ultraviolet rays.

I heard the limo drive away as I stepped into the school. I could feel girls staring at me. I heard a giggle and a few whispers amongst all the loud noise that usually accompanied high school. Just the same old, same old. Always being watched by those stupid girls.

"Hey, Amaterasu," said one of those stupid girls I mentioned earlier, "I heard you have a girlfriend now! Finally found someone else like you?"

I rolled my eyes, hidden by the sunglasses. Just because I wore the boys' uniform, they had to say stuff about me. Their most recent rumor was that I was lesbian, and it seemed to stick in the minds of everyone. Even one of the teachers had recently given me a strange look.

I took off my shades once I was far enough away from the door. How much sunlight could possibly penetrate them in here? And besides, it just made matters worse with the other girls.

I sat in my desk in silence as usual, putting my head down on it and not looking at or speaking to anybody. There was only one decent person in the entire class; Haruhi Fujioka, one of the top students. The lowest he had ever ranked in grades was third, and even that had upset him.

I had slightly more trouble. I always hovered around tenth or eleventh. I only needed to be twentieth or above, so I didn't really care that much. But I still had to get A's and B's, for the most part. Otherwise I lost my scholarship, and my mother refused to pay the entire tuition outright. What a hag.

The bell rang, and I heard the classroom door shut as the teacher walked in. Perfect—we had a substitute. The same substitute we'd had last week, at that. "Okay," she said, picking up the roll sheet. "Amaterasu, Kimiko?"

I raised my hand wordlessly to show that I was present.

The woman nodded and continued checking her list. I plopped my head back down onto my desk and continued ignoring her. At least with a substitute, the teasing would lessen a little. Haruhi was slightly less afraid to stand up for people when we had a sub. For that, I was grateful.

I waited patiently for the bell to ring for lunch. When it did, I got up eagerly and rushed to the cafeteria. Everyone always got my favorite lunch before me if I dawdled, and I didn't want more soup today.

As I grabbed my lunch tray, I turned and searched for an empty table to sit at so I could eat in peace. I found one that seemed unoccupied and slid into a seat, ready to dig into my lunch.

Then I noticed something that definitely made me lose my appetite. A girl I really didn't like was talking to a boy that I sort of liked. And they both gave each other similar flirtatious smiles.

"Ugh…" I muttered. It made my stomach turn a little. But I decided to go ahead and eat some anyway. I would regret it later if I didn't.

As soon as I finished, I dropped my tray in the return bin and ran off to the bathroom. Nobody ever went in there during lunch, so I figured I would be fine.

But when I got there, I heard something. A soft sound. It could have been a moan, but when it came again, I recognized it. A sob. Someone was crying.

I went around the stalls and found her curled up in the corner—a girl with black hair and a yellow headband. She had tears trickling down her face and was hugging her knees, trying to be quiet by burying her face into her arms.

"Hey," I said softly. "Are you okay?"

She looked up at me with startlingly blue eyes. The tears just made them even brighter.

"What's the matter?" I asked gently, kneeling down beside her. "Why are you crying?"

She sniffed. "I'm not." Okay, she was a really bad liar.

I wiped away one of her tears, showing it to her. "You're not?"

"It's none of your damn business."

I was taken aback. Well. Okay, then.

But I continued. "Nobody goes and cries in the bathroom for no reason," I pressed on, trying to pull the answer out of her. "What's wrong with you?"

"I told you, nothing," she replied, and another tear landed on her sleeve.

"Do you…need anything?" I decided not to push her. I knew I hated telling people my problems. I felt like I was adding more burdens to their shoulders than they needed. I could understand that she probably felt the same way.

"No. just leave me alone. Why are you in here, anyway? Nobody comes to the bathroom during lunch."

"I wanted to get away from people who were making fun of me," I told her. Maybe if I told her my problems, she would tell me hers, and then I would have a friend who didn't run away and call me lesbian.

"Making fun of you for what?" she wondered, her tears beginning to dry. She wiped them off before her face could get sticky.

"Because I wear the boys' uniform," I explained.

"Oh." She frowned. "Well, that's a stupid reason to make fun of someone."

"They say I only wear it because I want girls to think I'm a guy so they'll go out with me. It's a lie, of course—I'm not a lesbian. I just think the girls' uniform is ugly. Plus the color makes my eyes look like snot."

"Oh…" She looked up at me, then wiped her eyes for the last time and stood up. In the light, I could see that her hair wasn't black, but really dark brown.

"Better?" I asked her.

She nodded. "Yeah. Just…things getting to me, I guess."

I nodded also. "What's your name?"

"Miyaki Itsumoto. I'm in class 2-D. You?"

"Kimiko Amaterasu, 1-A."

"Okay. I guess I'll see you around, Amaterasu-san." As she turned to leave, her hair blew slightly away from her face, and I noticed a small purple mark on her jaw. I narrowed my eyes as she exited the bathroom.

Once I was sure the bathroom really was empty, I opened the door to a stall and stepped inside, locking the door behind me. I sat on the toilet and sighed, resting my chin in my hands. Where did she get that bruise?