Thanks a lot for doing this I rally aprreciate it.
This is may first fanfic EVA so I'm rally ecited
I hope you enjoy this amzing master piece
Chapter One
.
By Me
'Kaijo High School is pretentious.'
Kasamatsu Mitsuru stood at the gates of the institute, her arms crossed and her brow knitted into a frown.
A layer of trimmed grass, much too immaculate for a high school, coated the fields as freshly-painted, white walls stabbed the sun back into the eyes of any unfortunate passerby. The asphalt that led through into the main driveway soaked the area with an uncomfortable heat that left Mitsuru drenched in sweat under her thick school uniform.
It was all a mangled attempt at ostentation.
Despite its impeccable exterior, a sole blemish on the institute's otherwise perfect complexion was one, lonely building in the distance, partially hidden by the surrounding sports facilities. To her knowledge, the scaffolding attached to said building had been there long before even her brother's freshman year and was the only thing keeping it from falling down.
'This must be the music department,' Mitsuru raised her eyebrows, noting the large, familiar cracks that ran along the walls. She remembered how Yukio had constantly complained about having to teach in one of the science labs for his geeky guitar lessons. Apparently, the whole block hadn't been deemed 'earthquake safe' for five years.
The teenager shifted her eyes to the swarm of students and parents milling about in the main quad as her fingers drummed a low beat onto her elbow. Her tanned arms were still crossed while her gaze ghosted over the sea of grey school uniforms in front of her. One would think a boy in a neon-orange vest wouldn't be too hard to spot.
Kasamatsu Yukio, her esteemed older brother, had left the house in a great rush earlier that morning; apparently due to compulsory disciplinary committee work which required his early presence on the first day of school. Unfortunately for the senior, in his rush to get to school at a godawful time, he had left his Japanese history folder on his bed. Not that he actually needed it on the first day, but if you searched up the word "overachiever" in the dictionary, you would find Yukio's priggish face plastered right next to it.
So there was his loving sister, who had sacrificed herself to bring her darling brother's folder to him- although said darling brother had not yet appeared. This was despite him stating the exact time they would meet, which, to no surprise, caused irritation to trickle into his poor, loving sister's system.
"Mitsuru!"
'Speak of the devil and he shall appear.'
The teen swivelled to face her brother as he marched up to her from the mass of students, his face contorting into an annoyed scowl.
Mitsuru bit back a laugh as she gained a full view of Yukio's uniform. His neon-orange vest with 'DISCIPLINARY COMMITTEE' blaring on the front screamed 'tacky'. But who knows? Perhaps that was the theme it was going for, because if so, its mission was an overwhelming success.
To be fair, Mitsuru knew she should offer her brother some commiseration for his uniform. Though, while she held onto that fairness, it was truly his own fault for joining the disciplinary committee. Of all committees he could've joined, Yukio had to join the one group that dealt with more problems inside than out. Honestly, with all the fighting and bitching that went on with its members, the eye-searing vests were the least of anybody's problem. Plus, being in the tattletale committee didn't earn any sympathy points from her.
Yukio broke clear of the large crowd, causing a wide smile to dimple Mitsuru's cheeks. His whole appearance was neat and well-kept, giving him a handsome glow. Mitsuru snickered under her breath; leave it up to her brother to look good for the sex he couldn't even talk to.
Her wrinkled grin widened as Yukio came to a stop in front of her.
"Well, look who finally decided to show up. You're only," she looked down at her watch, "five minutes late."
"Don't be a smartass, Mitsuru," her brother snapped as his already annoyed look sharpened into a glare. "Remember, you're not my sister here. You're just a kohai who needs to treat her senpais with the respect they deserve." He leant down until his face hovered right in front of hers. "Honestly, what is with you first years and your lack of respect, huh? Back in my freshman days, I had to kiss my seniors' asses."
Mitsuru gave a low whistle, "It sounds like Kasamatsu-senpai is projecting his troubles onto his poor sister." With a sardonic smirk, she jabbed his shoulder. "So, why are you late anyway? Applying to be a bus driver, are we?"
Yukio scoffed in response.
"I was caught up with some idiots from your year," he accused as if it had been Mitsuru herself who had held him up. "One of them decided it would be a great idea to try and climb the scaffolding on the music department. The dumbass could've broken his neck." He shook his head. "Jeez, it's only the first day back and I already know that your year will be a bunch of annoying, little shits."
"Language, Yukio," she reprimanded. "No one wants to date a guy with a dirty mouth."
The senior turned pink and coughed. "W-well, no one wants to date a girl with hairy legs, but here you are," he retorted lamely.
She blinked owlishly, "But I'm proud of my hairy legs."
"You are the most…" Mitsuru's lips twitched at her brother's floundering. He struggled to search for the right word, eventually giving up with a defeated sigh. "You know what? Never mind. Tell me you at least brought the thing I asked you to bring."
The girl arched an eyebrow, "You mean the crack?" The girl looked to the sky and brought her hand to her chin, contemplating the question. Her face was deliberately blank as she shook her head. "No, sorry. I left it at home today."
"Dammit, Mitsuru!" Yukio blustered, exasperation lacing his voice. "I meant my Japanese history folder! Didn't Mamá tell you to get it?"
"Calm down, I was only joking. I've got it right here." The teenager rolled her bag off her shoulder and reached inside to grab the folder. She chucked it over to Yukio, who caught it with an unimpressed glower. "Now you can learn about what-"
"Thank you, sister," he interrupted before she could say anything else, a pained smile straining his face as he tucked the folder under his arm.
"No problem, brother," she mimicked, chucking her bag onto her back. "I'm afraid that this is where we part. I have places to be, things to do, and people to avoid." Mitsuru tapped her watch. "It's a time-consuming schedule I keep, and I must start early if I want to maintain it."
"You are a wonderful person, Mitsuru," Yukio drawled, rolling his eyes. "Truly a delight to be around."
"Why thank you. I do try," she flashed him a bright, toothy grin then turned on her heel towards the clump of students.
"Wait!" her brother shouted after her. "Don't forget to tell your teachers about-"
"Yeah, yeah. I know," she shouted as she waved him off. "Goodbye Yukio! Hope you have a stellar day!"
…
"Kendo club! Come join the kendo club!"
"You love books? You love lots of books? Then we have the place for you!"
"Please join us! I need to feed my family!"
Mitsuru had honestly forgotten how busy the first day of school was.
"Middle-school and high school are completely different," the ghosts of her previous school's teachers screamed in her head. Though that statement was true in some respects, as Mitsuru walked through the quad, she could spot the correlations in an instant
Some things never change.
Arranged in a way similar to airport counters were Kaijo's rickety, wooden tables. Voices carried across the courtyard and advertisements mixed together until the girl couldn't hear even one, coherent sentence.
Having the first few days of school assigned as 'the club days' was the unofficial norm for Japanese schools, it seemed. There, the second and third years from each club would advertise and try to convince students, new or old, to join.
'Club days' also meant that walking through the densely packed crowd was a complete bitch.
It was obvious even to a blind person which clubs were the most popular. Though the school had a 'good' academic system, no one actually went to the school for its academic prowess. If it had any.
Sports dominated Kaijo High; that was a fact that everyone who attended the school was aware of. Its nationally acclaimed reputation attracted a great number of students; most of which were athletes - in one way or another - from cities and prefectures far from Kaijo. Mitsuru had even heard of someone coming from as far out as Kagoshima, a city located over half the country away.
And here Mitsuru had complained about walking to Tokyo for her middle school.
Someone's fat foot stomped on her toes and jolted her out of her thoughts. Grimacing, she turned to shoot a glare at the person, who, unfortunately, was already swallowed up by the crowd. With a growl of irritation, the teen straightened to her full height in an attempt to peer over the sea of people.
Oh, how she missed the middle school days where she was taller than everyone else.
Mitsuru, in her first year of middle school, had grown to a great height of one hundred and seventy centimetres, thus she had towered over all her year group, including the boys; a fact she held over them with great enthusiasm. Now, still standing at the same height of one hundred and seventy centimetres, she felt like a midget surrounded by giants. A bunch of smelly giants who someone should've pushed into a shower long ago.
'Seriously,' Mitsuru thought, 'I'm only two centimetres shorter than the average height for men in Japan. Where are all the short guys at this school?'
"Rugby club! Anyone for the rugby club, come over here!"
Mitsuru sharply twisted her head, steel-blue eyes carding through the crowd as she tried to pinpoint the location of the voice. Eventually, the girl's gaze landed on a long table near the outskirts of the quad. As she approached, a large mass of boys filled up her vision. Their broad shoulders took up any available space to peer over - even when Mitsuru bounced onto her tippy-toes.
"Girls' rugby, over here!"
The tanned teen strolled to the other side of the table, which had considerably fewer people around it. Only two girls, in fact, who both wore dark-blue hoodies with the characters for 'Kaijo Rugby' plastered on the front.
The girl on the right, who had dark hair and darker eyes, looked Mitsuru up and down. Her nose wrinkled in distaste as if she smelled something foul - not that Mitsuru blamed her. Her mother had awakened the girl fifteen minutes before she had to leave that morning. The rush to get ready left her with a wrinkled uniform and only half of her schoolbooks.
Mitsuru turned to the brown-haired girl next to 'Miss Judgmental' and noticed that her chocolate eyes held a friendly air than the girl next to her.
"This is girls' rugby, right?" Mitsuru asked as she grabbed the pen for the sign-up sheet.
The girl gave a wry grin, her brown eyes twinkling, "I sure hope so. Otherwise, we'd have a pretty bad case of false advertising on our hands," she chuckled under her breath whilst the girl next to her rolled her eyes.
Mitsuru quirked an eyebrow at the girl's response, but allowed an amused smile to grace her face anyway.
"So I just sign here?" she indicated to the sheet with the pen.
The girl nodded, "That would be great, thanks."
Mitsuru leant her weight onto the table and held the pen above the white paper. Her steel-blue eyes scanned down the sheet until she found an empty slot to write"Kasamatsu Mitsuru".
Upon pushing herself away from the table and looking at her name, she winced at her sloppy, near indiscernible characters; handwriting wasn't one of her strong points, especially when it came to writing in Kanji.
As the chocolate-eyed girl looked down at the paper, her face lit up.
"Wait a minute. Are you Yukio-kun's sister?" she blurted out, excitement lacing her voice.
Taken aback by the sudden outburst, Mitsuru raised her eyebrows, "Probably, if we're thinking about the same person. Short, black hair? Blue eyes? Can't talk to a girl to save his life?"
The girl squealed at such a high pitch, Mitsuru swore her ears bled.
"Awww, that's adorable. I didn't know Yukio-kun had a baby sister. You must be a first year too. That's so cute!"
Mitsuru scrunched up her nose, "I'm sure it is?"
"Yukio-kun is so adorable," the girl continued to coo, bringing her hands to the sides of her face. "You two have the same eye colour, that blueish-silvery colour thing going on, yeah? You know, I've never met any of Yukio-kun's family."
"And I've never met someone so non-patronizing," Mitsuru drawled with a wry smile.
The brown-haired girl opened her mouth to reply, but the girl next to her, who lifted her glasses to rub the bridge of her nose, interrupted her.
"For the love of God, Amari-senpai, shut up," she growled, shifting her gaze to glare at the chocolate-eyed girl.
Amari pouted, "Awww, Ima-chan, don't be so stuffy!" she said as the teen beside her put her glasses back on. "I was just greeting the first year. Her brother and I know each other quite well, after all."
Ah - so she was one of those girls who knew that Yukio couldn't handle girls, yet still forced a conversation out of him. Though it was frustratingly amusing to watch Yukio try to talk to the opposite gender, to talk to him despite knowing this was a low blow.
Ima folded her arms across her chest. "We aren't here to make small talk, we're here to promote girls' rugby, so keep your mouth shut if it's not about the sport, got it?"
Ima turned to Mitsuru, eyeing her with a hard stare.
"My name is Hironaka Ima. I'm the captain of the girl's rugby team this year," she introduced as she reached over to the stack of flyers beside her. She slid one over to Mitsuru. "Here is the basic information should you want to join. Trials will be held net Saturday and I would advise that you attend if you want to get into a team above fifth string."
'Fifth string? How many strings did this sport have?' Mitsuru raised her eyebrows as she read over the flyer. The teen knew there would've been a reasonable amount of girl rugby players going to Kaijo, but to have five teams, you needed seventy-five players. At least.
"Mmm," Amari piped in, "and from what I remember, the second string usually plays on Fridays. You look like you would be good enough for the second string, so make sure you clear your schedule for that, 'kay?"
Mitsuru cocked her head to the side, "What about the first string? When are those games?"
Amari snorted, "You have to be good to get into the first string in freshman year, and I mean really good."
"Yes," Ima agreed. "It is unlikely you will get in this year."
Amari sent the black-haired girl a sly grin. "It's not impossible, though."
Ignoring the sharp glare she received in return, the chestnut-haired girl looked conspicuously from side to side as she leant closer to Mitsuru.
"You know," Amari stage-whispered, "there's no need to give up on getting into the first team. The only reason this grump here," she indicated to Ima with her head, "got to be captain was because no one else could actually be bothered."
"Hey!" the said captain barked. "That's not I quote - that my leadership skills are of someone older than my age."
"Oh Ima-chan, you're too modest," Amari simpered, cupping her chin in her hand. "Do you think that you would've wanted to be captain if Coach had said 'Ima, no one else wants the job so please take it'?"
Mitsuru watched as the two started to bicker. Well, bicker was a subjective word for it. Ima was the only one who took the argument seriously, with her teammate waving off her words with an empty smile. The blue-eyed teen rolled her eyes. If she wanted to hear pointless arguments, she would've stayed at home.
"I'm going to head off," Mitsuru raised her voice above the two.
Amari turned in surprise, "Really? Well," she gave the freshman a radiant smile, "I'll see you at trials then, Kasamatsu-san."
Mitsuru returned the smile with one of her own, "I would hope so. Otherwise, you'd have a pretty bad case of false advertising on your hand."
"Um… excuse me…"
Mitsuru's heart jumped to her throat as she bit back a frightened squeal. She whirled around to face the person who appeared behind her.
"Wheredidyoucomefrom?" Mitsuru blurted, her words tumbling from her mouth in a rush of barely-distinguishable syllables.
"I've been waiting for a while," the person replied and Mitsuru had to strain to hear her voice. "You looked like you knew each other so I didn't want to interrupt. Um... is it over now?"
Mitsuru went to open her mouth, but Ima cut her off.
"Yes. Yes, it is," she gave the tanned freshman a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "It was a pleasure talking to you, Kasamatsu-san. I truly look forward to seeing you at trials."
'...do I detect some sarcasm there?' Mitsuru considered, her eyebrows raised. With a smile that looked more like a grimace, the freshman waved at them and walked away from the table.
As she once again merged into the crowd, a wave of exhaustion hit her like a truck. She'd wondered when the tiredness would finally kick in, and it appeared she would have to wonder no more. Mitsuru's head was beginning to feel too heavy for her neck and she had to move her hands to hold onto it in order keep it up straight.
'Well shit,' Mitsuru realised with a dawning horror, 'and school hasn't even started yet.'
Thak you o so much for readig this. Ireally appreciate t
R&R for more amazing cntent ;D