Away From Home, Into a Case – Edit
I don't own any recognizable characters
Chapter 1
Hi, I'm Alexis, you can call me Lexi. I'm a 15 year old otaku, born and raised in the good ole (coughcoughnotreallycoughcough) U.S of A. I live in some backwater county in North Carolina; I go to some backwater high school in said backwater county. I have Depression, Anxiety, and ADHD; I'm fairly smart, getting A's and B's in most subjects. I'm 5'9", chin length dark brown, almost black, hair and eyes that (covered by glasses, I'm legally blind) could be considered hazel but are a mixture of light green, brown, and yellow; in my opinion, they look akin to shit. I planned to move to LA with my friends when I graduated. We would be a band and I would also attended college for Cosmetology, maybe a few Criminology classes here and there and a Psychology class or two.
I have family issues; I considered my "mother" nothing but an incubator, I could hardly call her mommy/mama/mom to her face (yes, I call her mommy) after she met the bastard called my stepfather, when I was six. But, yeah, on my mother and stepfather's side of the family I only like 9 people, out of over 20 people. I hardly know my father's side. Since I have so many problems, I escape. My escape comes in the form of music, TV shows, video games, books, web comics, anything. Fanfiction, music, and manga are my "go to"s however. I also love singing, even though I'm told by almost all of my family members that I can't sing…. I have a severe inferiority complex. If it makes others happy, even if I'm hurt in the process, than I'm happy, after all what's my happiness compared to others, right?
Anywhores, I'm getting off topic. So, I was walking home from my friend's house listening to Gaeta's Lament on my phone with my laptop and most of the stuff I find important in my bag (including but not limited to: manga, anime, sketchbook, sketch utensils, 3DS, Pokémon games [Alpha Sapphire and Omega Ruby just came out and I preordered them, I was itching to start], laptop charger, cellphone charger, ear buds, wallet, prescription sunglasses, house keys, extra pairs of clothing, makeup, hair care products, etc.). Obviously, I was definitely paying attention to what was going on around me, right? Wrong.
Pain; it was sudden, but it was there. The origin? The fucktard who wasn't paying attention to where he was going and hit me. I felt my ribs being crushed as my head hit the pavement with a sickening CRACK! As the person got out and started to call 911, my vision faded to black and I took my last breath…..
…..Only to jerk up, gasping, as my eyes snapped open. I looked around and found my bag, cellphone and ear buds. Shoving the latter two into the bag, I tried to see if I could tell where I was. Noticing I was in an alleyway I frowned, where I lived, there WERE no alleys….. Shrugging it off, I brushed the strands of hair out of my face and then slowly realized I didn't have my glasses on but I could see perfectly and that my hair was a pitch black color. Shocked, I looked at my hands and realized that they were a sickly pale color (which was weird considering I almost always wore t-shirts so my arms were still pale to others but a dark tan to me, my legs on the other hand….).
Stumbling to the entry way of the alley, faintly registering the fact I didn't have shoes on, I came to the realization that I wasn't in my own body. When I exited I had to block my eyes from the blinding light. When my eyes finally got used to the light, I looked around. Staggering backwards, I almost fainted again when I took in my surroundings. I was obviously in and Asian country, considering the fact that many Asians were scrambling around, heading to this place and that. I got looks of concern from a few passing women; more than likely mothers, based on their clothing and hairstyles. Whoa, were did that thought come from? Shaking my head, I continued on walking around, trying to regain my bearings.
I paused once in front of a store with a reflective window to take in my new look. While I liked the green eyes and black hair combo, I suddenly found myself wishing for my old, freckle covered face. I had noticed that I was shorter, but still appeared to be 15. Noticing a few speculative looks coming my way, I dropped my head (my hair now long enough to form a shield) and continued on my way.
Soon my stomach started to grumble, telling me that it was time to eat. Taking out my wallet I checked to see if I still had my money and noticed that the $20 I had were changed to 2032¥. Looking around I noticed a café called Él Diablo's Sweets. Heading inside I took notice of how little people were in there. Other than me, the only other person was the woman behind the counter.
The woman looked up as the bell tinkled when I opened the door, seeing me she smiled. "Hello, welcome to Él Diablo's Sweets, how may I help you?" For some reason she seemed to ignore my filthy and torn clothing or the fact that, again, I didn't have shoes on.
Not even stopping to realize that, hey genius, maybe she doesn't speak English; or that I could understand her I asked her, "what's the cheapest thing you have?"
At my question her smile turned to one of understanding, "how about a strawberry shortcake for 279¥?" At her answer I sighed in relief and handed her the correct amount and in return she handed me the slice of cake on a small plate with a fork.
As I sat at the counter and started eating I paused, finishing the bite I had in my mouth before asking her, "Miss, do you have a newspaper I can look at?" When I asked this she blinked before nodding and handing it to me. Looking at it I inhaled sharply through my nose in shock. The date read 14 April, 1998. Handing it back to her after skimming through it the rest of the way, taking note of the fact that I was apparently in Japan, I muttered a thank you before going on to finish my cake.
When I was around halfway through with the piece (it was good and probably the only thing I would eat for the rest of the day, I was going to savor it), a cup of tea appeared in my line of sight. Blinking I looked up at the woman who smiled at me again saying, "You're probably thirsty. Take it, it's on the house." Blushing, I muttered another thanks and took a sip. She was right though, I was parched. "So, I'm Yukimura, Fumiko, the owner of Él Diablo's Sweets, you are?"
I started at her sudden revelation of her name and her questioning of mine in return. "I'm Jørgensen, Emeline. It's a pleasure to meet you Yukimura-san." After I responded I wondered silently where that name came from, it was obviously Danish though; so what was I doing as a homeless orphan in Japan?
Fumiko waved me off, "call me Fumi-nee, Emeline-chan, I'm only 24!" I smiled a little at her enthusiastic reprimand.
"Then call me Eme-imouto." I chuckled as her smile grew before fading abruptly.
"Eme-imouto, are you homeless?" She inquired. Setting down my fork I nodded glumly. She huffed, "I own the apartments upstairs as well as this little shop. You can move in with me, and-!" She continued on over the sounds of my arguing, "To pay rent you can work here, with me." At her glare I frowned before nodding. Fumiko squealed in happiness. "Now, I might have some spare clothes that will fit you until we get to go shopping. Hold on a second." Heading over to the door she put up the "Sorry, out to lunch, will be back at _" sign. Then she grabbed my hand and dragged me upstairs. Luckily I had finished my cake before she did so and had grabbed my bag too.
Taking me to the bathroom she shoved me in with instructions on how it worked before going to try and find clothes that would fit me. After I took a shower and dried myself off, I rummaged in my bag before pulling on my undergarments, a white shirt-like slip, and a white dress. Doing my hair and make-up I finished right as Fumiko came back. "I'm sorry Eme-imouto, I don't have anything that will fit. You're much shorter than I am, slimmer too; and your chest is bigger as well." What she was talking about was the fact that she was at least 5'8 whilst I was 5'4-ish, I was also so skinny it was like I starved myself, that could be because of the whole homeless thing though, and, even in this life, the 'curse' the females that my family had had followed me. I had 38D cup boobs; something women twice my age would pay for that I got naturally.
I opened the door and smiled, "don't worry I have a few things of my own that I got from my mom." She gasped at how I looked when I was all cleaned and in clothing that wasn't ruined.
Suddenly, Fumiko hugged me, "you look beautiful dear~!" As she said this my blush grew. She drew back, "Now, let's get you shoes before we start anything else." As she ran off to fetch me a pair of shoes I examined myself in the mirror again. The black eyeliner and mascara made my now bright green eyes pop and the subtle pale pink lipstick looked good against my new skin tone.
When I was finishing up looking at myself Fumiko came back holding a pair of white flats that I slipped into gratefully. Afterwards we headed back downstairs where Fumiko showed me how to use the register and what sweets were what prices, as well as how to count out change and what the drinks were. As I was a quick study this took hardly any time and soon, we were reopening the shop up.
By the end of the day I had everything down and it was time to go shopping. Surprisingly, Fumiko wasn't that bad to shop with and we had tons of stuff for me and some more groceries to make due with. "Now, Eme-imouto, when we get back I'll be testing your baking abilities and then we can get some sleep." Fumiko told me, as I took in what she told me I nodded.
When we got home I told Fumiko that I wanted to make tiramisu, luckily I had learned to make it in my old life, and asked her to get the ingredients ready for my while I ran upstairs to up my stuff in my room. When I came back down I noticed Fumiko did as I asked and had set up the things I needed. Considering tiramisu was an easy dish to make I made that and a cake I randomly came up with. It was red velvet with chocolate and strawberry chunks; that would be iced with a beautiful cream cheese icing that would have halved strawberries and chocolate shavings decorating it.
As the cake was baking and the tiramisu setting in the fridge, Fumiko and I started a conversation. "So, when's your birthday?" She started off with.
"Mama and I celebrated it around the start of winter. Somehow she always knew the day. I think she said it was called Christmas." I told her sipping on a cup of Earl Gray tea that had 4 teaspoons of sugar in it.
She blinked, "Christmas? Okay, I can do that! Wait…. Where's your mother now if you don't mind my asking?"
I sighed, memories from this body's life popping into existence, "Mama was the daughter of an important Danish businessman. When he found out that she was pregnant with me soon after they moved here, he kicked her out. So Mama had me when she was still in the streets, she never blamed me though. She did everything she could to help me. She taught me Danish and English at a young age alongside Japanese because she knew that children are able to learn better. But she died six years ago, when I was seven." Fumiko's face fell in horror at the fact that she had asked me a very personal question that had a very sad answer. As she stuttered her apologies I waved her off as I went to get the cake. As I finished decorating it, I spotted the clock.
09:57
"Fumi-nee, it's almost ten. We should head to bed now." When I told her this her head snapped to the clock before she grinned and nodded.
"Let's put the cake up and we can try it tomorrow!" As she helped me do just that I smiled to myself, it felt nice having someone care about me. Heading upstairs after turning out the light I just knew, I would have these next few years.
I never knew how wrong that statement was.