Eight hours.
I glanced at my watch. I take that back, I lied. It's only been seven and a half hours.
Seven and a half hours of pure torture, trapped in this stupid flying sardine can with nothing to do. My arse was pretty much numb from sitting still for so long and I don't think I could stretch my legs out straight right now if I tried.
I had finished the only book I had thought to throw into my backpack in the airport. Thank you three hour wait to board the plane.
For the record, that was sarcasm.
The battery power in my pink DS light had gone out in the middle of a boss fight in the new Zelda game. I had been winning, too. I swear; someone out there just likes to see me suffer.
The in-flight movie, good though it had been, had ended a mere three hours into the flight, leaving me with nothing but puffy, uninterestingly shaped clouds to stare at through the small window. I really don't see how anyone can make a habit out of watching the clouds roll by. What a waste of time.
By far the worst disaster that had occurred so far, however, was that I had forgotten to charge my i-Pod. Nothing I've already mentioned can even begin to compare to this. My music is my life, and without it…well…let's just say I was less than pleased with this trip so far.
I heaved a sigh, rubbing my tired eyes beneath my blue and white rimmed glasses. I hope this isn't an indication of how things will be once we get there.
"Cheer up, Ritz," my aunt said from her seat beside me. "It'll be worth it once we get there. It's not like a chance like this pops up every day."
"I guess you're right, Aunt Angie," I mumbled, still staring out the window.
She nodded, apparently satisfied with my response, before burying her nose back into the book she had been reading; my book to be exact.
I suppose she really was right, though. No matter how tedious this plane ride was, this was the chance of a lifetime for me. I mean seriously, how often does some 18 year old, fresh out of high school, get invited to study with one of the best violinists in the world?
Never. Never ever ever. Until now, that is.
Maybe now would be a good time to explain why I'm willing to suffer through an eight hour plane ride to Japan.
I'm a musician, and a fairly decent one at that. Not that I'm bragging mind you. I always told everyone that I'd end up teaching music somewhere, but honestly, I couldn't live my entire life doing that. My passion lies in performance, even though sometimes my nerves don't seem to agree with me on that.
As for my instrument, I play the violin. It's currently stowed in my overhead bin, safe and snug in its black case. If anything were to happen to my violin, I'd seriously break down and cry.
But, back to the story.
Hakase Taro, one of my favorite violinists in the whole wide world, had invited me to study with him. How cool is that! So that's why I'm heading to Japan; to pursue my dream of being a world renowned performer.
My Aunt Angie, who just so happens to have lived in Japan before, agreed to let me live with her while I'm there. She used to live on the Okinawa military base, being a Navy dentist and all, but didn't think that it was best for me to stay there as well. So she bought a house about halfway between the base and my new school.
There's something I haven't mentioned yet. My new school.
Unbeknownst to me, my parents and my aunt had enrolled me in some supposedly elite college in Japan. Great. Of course, no one had bothered to inform me of this until I was already on my way to the airport. Figures. Less chance of me getting out of it that way. But get this; I have to wear a uniform!
I thought all of that had ended when I graduated in June. But no, right when I had finally thought that I was done with preppy school uniforms, stuck up snobs, and classes in general, I just get thrust right back into it. My high school had been a private school too. Sure, I learned a lot more than most of my friends in public schools did and I had a few friends, but I really had no desire to repeat the experience.
My new school was called Konoha Academy or something like that. See? The name even sounds preppy! It's a college for the highly gifted; at least that's what my aunt told me. AKA, I'm going to be surrounded by kids with pocket protectors, taped glasses, and shiny new calculators. I was sure to stick out like a sore thumb.
Now don't get me wrong here, I'm far from stupid. Quite the contrary. I graduated as valedictorian of my class and was recognized on a national level for my standardized test scores. Impressive, no? But like I said before, I'm not here to brag…much.
*Ping*
The seatbelt sign lit up, causing me to grin and forget about my frustrations for the time being. Finally, just a few more minutes. Ready or not, Japan, here comes Arista Burana!
"Aunt Angie?" I asked, warily eying our rather large pile of luggage, "How exactly are we getting all of this to the house? We don't have a car, remember?"
"Our neighbors are coming to get us," she responded, obviously happy with the fact that she had thought of this and that our new neighbors had actually agreed to it.
"Do you actually know our neighbors?" I asked, fearing that my somewhat pushy aunt had just imposed upon their goodwill.
"Of course I do! I met Shikaku at work a few years ago. Actually, his wife was the one who told me about the house being for sale."
Shikaku?
If there's one thing that's going to take getting used to, it's Japanese names.
As if on cue, a large van pulled up in front of us. I'm guessing they rented it just to come pick us up.
"Shikaku, Yoshino!" my aunt greeted, embracing a man with spiky black hair and a scarred face and a pleasant looking woman who had dark brown hair.
"My goodness!" my aunt exclaimed, "Shikamaru has certainly grown since I've last seen him!"
I can only assume that she was talking about the guy who had just gotten out of the van. He had spiky dark brown hair pulled up into a ponytail much like his dad's and a rather lazy look about him.
He really didn't look like the kind of guy that I would hang out with. Not that I'm prejudiced or anything, but any guy with two earrings and a ponytail just doesn't appeal to me. But then, you can't judge a book by its cover.
"Shikamaru!" his mother yelled, her face contorting, "Don't just stand there! Get their bags!"
Whoah. One minute she was all friendly and huggy and the next she was barking orders like a general. Scary much?
He started loading the luggage into the back of the van, carelessly tossing suitcases and boxes helter-skelter. "Leave it to a woman to pack so much," he grumbled, picking up my violin, which I had left sitting atop the pile of luggage.
"Please be careful with that!" I cried, hurrying over and reaching for it before he could lob it unceremoniously into the back of the van.
He turned to face me, an annoyed expression on his face.
I was wrong. You can judge a book by its cover. He hasn't even said a word to me and I dislike him already.
"Was it really necessary to pack so many clothes?" he asked, preparing to lob my violin once again.
"That's not clothes!" I practically screamed. I did tell you that I loved my instrument dearly, right? "It's my instrument and it's very fragile!"
"What a drag," he muttered, handing the black case to me before heading for the rest of the luggage.
Once the rest of the luggage had been loaded, with my ever so useful packing tips of course, we all piled into the van and headed towards our new home, wherever that might be, with my violin sitting safely on my lap.
It was a pretty boring trip to say the least. And to think I had said the plane ride was bad! My aunt kept up a running conversation with the Naras, leaving me with Shika…Shika…What was his name again? Oh well, it doesn't matter. It's not like he's going to talk to me anyway and after this I don't have to have any contact with him.
The fact that it was majorly stifling in the van didn't help either. I reached up, pulled the beanie off my head and ran a hand through my messy hair.
"Your hair."
It was that Shika guy. So apparently he is capable of speech.
"What about it?" I asked, turning to face him.
"It's blue."
My aunt's head whipped around in surprise. "When did you do that?" she asked, eyes widening as she noticed the light blue streak running through my bangs.
"Last night," I replied with an innocent grin.
I've always wanted to do something different with my hair, but my mom wouldn't let me. So I figured this would be the best time to try it out. You dig? Mind you, it's not like I dyed my whole head neon blue or something. Nothing like that at all. It's just one small, light blue streak running through my chocolaty-brown bangs. Personally, I thought it looked cute.
I guess my aunt didn't, though, because she just turned back around with a sigh and small shake of her head.
Shikaku stopped the large van in front of a roomy looking house with a small garden out front and a decent sized back yard with a small pond in it. It looked like a pretty nice place to live actually. Not the home I was accustomed to, but hey, I can adapt.
"Now, Arista," my aunt said, turning around once more, "you can leave the unpacking to us."
"That's right," Yoshino chimed in. "We'll take care of dinner as well. Shikamaru is going to show you around town for a bit."
This was news to me, and not very pleasing news as I wanted a nap, but I took it with a smile. Apparently, it was news to Shikamaru as well, at least judging from the combination of shock and disgruntlement showing on his face.
"But mom," he began, trying to get out of it.
"No buts, mister!" Yoshino shouted, once more assuming the role of a general, causing us both to jump in our seats. "She's new here and you're going to show her around!"
"Man, what a drag," he mumbled, rubbing his temples as he jumped out of the van.
I followed suit, albeit far more daintily then he did.
"Are you really going to go out like that?" he asked me, once both his parents and my aunt had disappeared inside our new house.
I blinked in confusion and looked down at my clothes. They looked perfectly fine for walking around town to me. My favorite faded and ripped jeans paired with a tight blue zip-up sweatshirt and an old Mickey Mouse tee-shirt.
"Don't you think you should change too then?" I asked, trying to keep my voice sweet and innocent.
Sure, it's not like my clothes were at the height of fashion, but they were comfy and suited me. Plus, it looked better than what he was wearing. Honestly, he looked like a bit of a punk. His black, skull-emblazoned tee-shirt paired with a red and black plaid jacket and baggy jeans just kind of gave off that kind of vibe.
"Whatever," he said, turning and walking in the direction I could only assume lead to the town proper.
Doesn't this sound like it's going to be ever so much fun?
…
Yeah, I didn't think so either.