There were things in the world where you did not question. Things in the world where some people would consider as their breaking deal, constants that could never be touched. There were people in the world who considered this their family, lovers, jobs, and some even their major in college.
For Mari Fujikawa (藤川 真理) this constant that you did not mess with was her home. Ever since she left her home, her bright and sunny home, the Philippines, she could not—she could not think clearly and only wallow and stew in despair and bitterness as she realizes what she was losing. She has lost her friends, her school, and the boy she likes and had this mutual thing going on, and most importantly—
She has lost her name.
Mari Fujikawa was not her name. Perhaps Fujikawa was indeed her last name, but Mari? That was not her name! She was not and she will never be Mari. That is not her given name, which is not the name given to her by her father and it will never be despite what everyone likes to think.
She might hate moving to Japan.
Alright, don't look at her that way! It was not her fault that there were a ton other white weaboos out there probably willing to trade with her for a chance to go to Japan, but they do not understand what Mari (curse that damn name, she thinks) is going through. She's not just potentially losing her friends and family, she will lose her fast and direct connection with her culture. She will lose the responsibility to care about her country, and frankly? She is scared about that.
She does not want to forget her country, out of anything, that is what scares her the most.
(There is nothing much that can break the headstrong Mari Fujikawa, there is nothing much that can break her stubborn spirit and her willingness to go on. There is nothing much, and there will never be anything that can amount to her spirit.
Though, a wise man once said that grief can break you. Keep that in mind. Keep that in mind and ponder. Keep that in mind and understand, there is no bigger grief than the destruction of your connection to your mother country.)
You can tell her, you can tell her that Japan was technically her mother country too. It was, as her father was of Japanese descent (he was half-Japanese but the Filipino blood in him was stronger, though his ancestry was still evident in his face and mannerisms, he still held the kayumanggi skin all Filipinos had), and her mother was half-Japanese, but it also wasn't. Japan was never there for her when she went through her most stressful years; it was never there for her! Why should she care about some country in which she only visited during the holidays? She did not have that deep of a connection with Japan like her connection with the Philippines, and that would be the end of that conversation.
If she thinks that she will not be doing this for herself, and instead doing this for her father, then perhaps she can bear it. No, she will bear it for her father. Her pure and caring and tired father who does not know what to do, who has sacrificed so much for Mari's wellbeing, who has lost the will to live after the death of her mother so many years ago (she does not remember much about her mother, their therapist says that it must be because mari is blocking all memories of her but—she knows better. she just can't remember her mother, but she does not care. her father is here, so why should she care about a soul whom she cannot remember?).
It was nice to see her father's eyes being filled with hope once more, and she decides for herself—yes, she will bear it, if it is for the sake of her father. After all, there is no greater bond and love than a parent and a child going through a loss together and seeking comfort and seeking validation from each other.
She supposes that she can be strong for her father and bear the weight of being their emotional pillar, even if the cost is her identity and her name.
Mari looks at the outside of their new home.
Namimori was a small town, and if the half-Japanese girl would give it a description perhaps the best thing to call it would be "the boonies". It was the boonies at least in comparison with the big city she lived back in the Philippines.
Mari frowns, shoves her hands to her jacket pockets, and promptly goes inside, following her father. It was better than nothing, and at least her new school was near here. Namimori High was in a ten-minute walking distance, five if she sprinted but she doesn't really like exerting herself when there's a solution that doesn't take up much of her energy.
"Hey dad," Mari greets her father, slipping into uncomfortable Japanese. She knows how to speak her Japanese, her father often slipped to that when he was home and taught Mari how to read and write in Japanese (it was hard work but Mari can now boast a level 3 proficiency rate at that). "How's it going?"
"Mari," Her father smiles at her, and hearing the name from him feels different. It still sounds wrong, but at least—with her father it sounds a tad like home. "In Japan when you come home, you say 'I'm home!'. Ta-dai-ma." He informs her, ruffling her hair. "You try!"
"Ta-dai-ma." Mari says, albeit not wanting too. She knows what to say when she goes home, but it still feels foreign to say.
"Okaeri, Mari." The smile her father gives her changes all that. She has never seen her father smile like that for a while now, and it makes her happy that he is now even if it costed Mari's name. "You ready for your new school tomorrow?"
Mari frowns, "I still don't understand why I have to go to school right away!" Mari huffs, crossing her arms. "Why not next week? Let me get used to Namimori!"
"Don't tell me you forgot Mari?" Her father flicks her on the forehead. "You promised me you would start school right away if you don't have to take the placement exam." Her father sighs, "I don't understand why you would not want to advance? You read a lot, study a lot, you surely could be in highschool right now and not a middle schooler."
"Oh!" Mari giggles nervously, "I want to fit in among my peers, besides we really don't know that. The schooling system of Japan and Philippines are vastly different."
Her father ruffles her hair again, "So smart!" He chuckles then gently pushes her to go upstairs. "Go unpack and ready your clothes. I've got a feeling that tomorrow would be a long day." He smiles at her, "I'll make your favorite menudo if you do it quickly."
Mari never ran up the stairs and unpacked so quickly.
Menudo trumps everything.
Despite promising her father that she will sleep early last night, she still slept late as fuck and she was a bit sure that the sun was rising when she slept. (It wasn't her fault! Her friends were still awake during those times, and—and she dearly missed them. Especially him.)
"Tangina!" She swore, reverting to her native language as she rushed around in her room, trying to get ready for school. She quickly put on her skirt and her white blouse and tied a red ribbon on her neck. She stops for a moment in front of her pink mirror, looking at her tan skin contrasting the white blouse and her black shoulder-length hair that she would have to brush soon. She did not look Japanese, and she didn't know if she should be glad or if she should worry about it. She shrugs, remembering he was perhaps late and runs outside of her house (not before grabbing her lunch box and a piece of toast of course. she felt like a proper anime protagonist, but we won't talk about that).
"I'm gonna be late!" She can't help but shout out, now in Japanese, as she runs to her school, messily dressed and a piece of toast on her mouth. It all happened in a very very anime way. Though, this was not how she pictured her first day happening. She imagined a little less running and a little more walking.
She really regrets staying up late last night, even if it meant talking to her friends.
She manages to get to school on time, but it doesn't change the fact that she almost got beat up by a second year wielding tonfas. Holy fuck, Mari did not know they took tardiness in school so fucking seriously. At least the guy was lax on her and let her go, rather at least his companion was.
("A new student?" A weird guy in a pompadour asked while looking at a clipboard. Beside him was a rather blood thirsty boy, his grip on his tonfas tight and Mari can't quite help but tighten her grip on her bag too. She was ready to throw it and make a run for it back home. Surely her father would understand? As if sensing her thoughts the guy in the pompadour sighed. "Look you can run, but Hibari-san here will catch you, so it's better if you answer our question. New student or not?"
"Er—yes. I'm a new student." Mari replies, loosening her grip on her bag. "I'm Ma—I mean, Fujikawa Mari. I recently just transferred? I'm in my first year."
"Thank you for your cooperation Fujikawa-san." The guy replied, was he a senior? He looked like he was a senior. "I'm Kusakabe Tetsuya, part of the Disciplinary Committee and this here is Hibari Kyoya, the head." He gestures to the guy beside him who just gives Mari a cool glare which freezes the girl. "We're glad to welcome you to our school, but we have a strict no tardiness rule! If you are ever seen late again, I'm quite afraid Hibari-san here might bite you to death even if you are new or a girl. This will be your only warning." Kusakabe smiles at her gently and even with the pompadour, Mari can see that the guy contrasts Hibari nicely and within time can probably be popular with the ladies. "We once again welcome you to our school, and we hope you have a nice year!"
"Y-you too!" Mari stutters as she smiles nervously and runs past them. Oh boy, she will never ever try and sleep in late again.)
"Tangina tangina, okay Maryam—you can do this." Mari stutters to herself as she waits outside the classroom for her cue to be called by the teacher. "You've—you've given your thesis in front of a lot of people and you survived. Well it wasn't really a thesis but a research but everyone called it thesis so—"
"—a new student!" The teacher calls out, scaring Mari from her thoughts. "Come on in!"
Mari nervously slides the door open and walks in, fidgeting with her hand. God, wasn't she considered as the Stubborn Spirit of her previous school? What happened then? Never mind that, she shakes her head discretely and faces her new classmates
New people she doesn't know.
New people she might be scared of.
New people that will judge her.
She takes a deep breath and slightly bows. "My name is Fujikawa Mari and I hope we can all get along!" She exclaims rather nervously, and winces at how unnatural her Japanese sounds like. She doesn't belong here, that much she knows, but she'll try. She stands up straight again, waiting for the teacher to say something and the gods above take pity on her as the teacher seemed to take the cue.
"Well, I hope the class gets along with her." He says in a monotone tone, obviously bored of today and everything. He scans the room, and sees an empty chair next to someone that looks like he's sleeping. The teacher sighs, "Fujikawa, you can take the seat next to Yamamoto, and can someone wake that boy up?"
Mari smiles nervously as she makes her way to her seat, ignoring the looks of some people. She sits properly and primly as she could but then slumps over. Her teacher was teaching the students Math and not just any kind of Math but algebra. Basic algebra, that wasn't so hard and something that the girl was already good with (though, if you think about it, with enough hard work and perseverance, Math isn't terribly hard, only terribly long.)
She sighs, and also sleeps on her desk. She knows this, so why would she bother (she definitely regrets not taking the placement test)? Besides her seatmate was also sleeping soundly, snoring softly and no one bothered him! Yamamoto, was it? Yeah! If Yamamoto could sleep in class then so could she!
"Fujikawa-san?" The teacher calls her and Mari stands up as quickly as she can. Teachers were something that she did not disrespect, at least on purpose and it was rare for her to be called in class (and that's saying something because she always raises her hand during recitation). The teacher narrows his eyes at her and then points at the equation on the board: x*9 = 81, find x and -5*y = 25 find y. "Care to solve these?"
The class snickered as they realized what the teacher was doing to the new student. It would be nice for themselves to see a new student fail at answering something the teacher never taught just yet. Nice for their ego and nice for their slight xenophobic selves.
"Both of these equations, sir?" Mari asks, before shrugging. Did the teacher doubt her intelligence or did he not want to think for himself? Mari never ever slept if she did not know the material well. It was—it was unthinkable for Mari to do that! It went against her morals and everything. "Alright, well a bit rusty with algebra but x is equal to nine and y is equals to negative five!" She smiles, satisfied with her answers, and goes back sitting down to sleep. Honestly, asking Fujikawa Mari a question like that—the teacher probably didn't read her file.
The rest of the day was normal, and were mostly people bothering her. Like, solve one (two actually) algebraic equation and then you suddenly become popular. What has the world come to?
It wasn't as if it was unwanted, but god when the questions being asked about you were only about Math—well, it can make a girl want to bang her head on a flat surface.
She couldn't wait to go home and possibly sleep the whole day.
Well, a lot of people seemed to keep making SI's so I wanted to write one too. tbh I just really wanted to take a break from writing something that i have an outline for and something I have a plan for! This sucks really bad and that's because it's just me introducing Maryam! A girl who doesn't quite know how to embrace her heritage and someone who has the intelligence of a high schooler and definitely not of a middle schooler. (whew idek how schooling systems work in JP, i should research actually). also aside from that, i'm a naturally bad writer and this is just self-indulgent WHEW!
KHR wouldn't really change even if I was there but let me Dream. (Whew, ain't you glad this ain't coded in a Caesar cipher?)
I suppose this would be Maryam's name in kanji if I went through with Maryam and not Mari 藤川真利上夢 but I decided with Mari because I've heard some people adopt a more Japanese-sounding name if they move there? idk if it's true though.
Despite being an SI this was actually hard to write, and a bit personal for me to write about.
title is from a song! it's settled by the ransom collective.. I love trc they make me cry so much.
ALSO ! i love 1893…. I'm a sucker for 1893… fuck all of you….. like holy fuck.. kids.. get on with this… get with the fucking program
if ! you can ! review & rate—?