The following day, I meet up with The Clique at Haru Park. They enjoy spending their leisure time making little kids piss their pants who just want to play on the swings. I lean back on the bench, wearing a green tank top embedded with a few crystals, black denim shorts, and green pumps. The swing set is behind me, so I can hear what all the children are saying as Ana and Ren intimidate the kids.

"They're a bunch of asses," one of the girls says to her friend. "There's another one of them sitting right there."

"Some people don't know the meaning of inside voices," I mutter sarcastically as I fan my face with my hand. The two girls continue regardless of my comment.

"She just kisses up to them since they like her for her brains. Everyone can see that."

"Shut up," I spring from the bench and confront the twelve year old and the thirteen year old. "Don't you have some anime to fan girl over?"

"Hey, who's buggin' my Mizuki?" Sakura leaps off at the tip of the swing, followed by Ren and Ana. Sakura's boobs bounce vibrantly, making the girls envious and embarrassed; they leave right away. "That's what I thought assholes."

Those girls are right though, all I do is abide what they say. It's better be their allies than their enemies.

Emiko puffs smoke from her cigarette and then rubs it into the dirt. The Clique jauntily swarm by the bench as I sit back down. This probably means they're going to offer me opium again or ask me to do something I don't want to do.

"Guess what?" Sakura sits next me and puts an arm around my shoulder. "Daichi is throwing a party on his cruise ship."

"That's what's up."

"We have to go, it's on Saturday."

"No, no, no, I can't," I insist and stand up. Emiko shoves me back down with a death glare.

"You never hang out with us outside of school," Emiko complains as she digs in her pocket for a cigarette.

"What I'm doing now then?"

"I hate it when you act like a smartass."

"Well, I'm not going. Sorry." I cross my arms and pout. The three girls exchanged sly glances with each other while left Daichi and Ren talk amongst themselves by the picnic area.

"You know, a lot of different people will be going. Maybe Haruki?" Sakura suggests, playing the Haruki card on me.

I sigh, arguing mentally with my hydrophobia and my desire to find my lost twin brother.

"Fine, I'll go," I consent unwillingly.

"Yeah, Daichi did say that a guy that looked like your gender bender is going-paid for his ticket and everything," Ana adds, buttering me up more. The girls gleefully shout and rub my shoulder, talking all at once about what they're going to wear, the other boys, and what they're wearing again. While they go on about frivolous things that I won't ever get to worry about, I'm thinking about seeing Haruki onboard the ship. It's been nine years since I last saw him.

We were all going to Melinda Park-me, Haruki, my mom, and my dad. It was a breezy, sunny day that begged us to get out of the house. Haruki and I were flying our kites, getting it tangled more than once. Mom was there, wearing a cherry dress and a matching hat to untangle the kite strings. Dad sat under the umbrage of trees, watching us amiably. I should have known something was going to happen-it was all too perfect.

Mom chased us into a deeper part of the park. Haruki and I were squealing gleefully as we ran deeper in. In a matter of twenty-six seconds, Mom snatched both of us and squeezed us in her arms. We squirmed to be liberated, but it was in vain and we liked it. I felt something uncanny in the air, not exactly something scary, but more like something was watching us.

"It's nothing," four-year old Haruki assured me, reading my mind. He was a mere two minutes older than me, but was much smarter than me. Mom put us down and gave us four seconds to run away from her again. However, this time she chased us, something was chasing her. Haruki and I turned around in sync when we heard her shriek. Something invisible had Mom in its hands, lifting her from the ground. Dad hastily took off after her as Mom approached us. I dropped to the ground, covering my head, and that's when I heard Haruki scream my name. When I looked up, Mom and Haruki were being carried away by something neither Dad nor I could see-we felt hopeless.

I ran after both of them, reaching my hand out. Haruki extended his hand to me as Mom hugged his waist, with tears in his eyes. That's when I decided to jump towards them-but, I missed their hands by an inch. I fell in the lake with a big splash, frantically trying to swim to the top. It could have been the panic and lack of oxygen that made me drown. Stupid me, I opened my mouth to shout for help, filling up my lungs with lake water. When I hit the surface for two seconds, I saw Mom and Haruki vaporize, leaving a trail of aerial distortion. I sank back down to the seven- foot deep lake, flailing around until Dad jumped it and brought me up to the surface.

"Troops! Emergency in Melinda Park!" he yelled into his walkie talkie right before I passed out.

They were never found.

'

Friday morning, at exactly 5:14 AM, Dad comes home. I hear him enter my room, plant a kiss on my forehead and then leaves. Six hours later, I'm out of my room and sitting on the stool by the kitchen, grimacing at the okayu and miso soup. Dad sits on the stool next to me, still wearing his commander uniform.

"Ohayou gozaimasu*," Dad says with a pat on my shoulder. He appears twenty years older than he should look-he's actually forty-three.

"Morning. You know I did stock on waffles and French toast in the freezer," I say in English to force him to speak English. Dad can speak perfect English, but chooses to speak Japanese when he's here. I use the chopsticks to play with the okayu, then put it to my mouth, letting some of it fall from my grasp. My chopstick skills aren't good at all.

"We're in Japan. We eat Japanese food, not American food," he harshly retorts. "What happened to the ramen I stocked up on a couple months ago?"

"They spoiled."

"They spoiled because you left them there untouched."

"I prefer spaghetti and meatballs. I can't eat ramen every day."

He sighs exasperatedly, rubbing his temple and smoothing out his wrinkles. "How's school?"

My head jerks away from the hotness of the miso soup on my tongue. "It's fine. We finished a few days ago."

"And your friends?"

I snort. "Fine."

"You're fitting in well?"

"No Dad. I'm not. I hate this school and the people in it."

"It's the Japanese way to-"

"You didn't even care about the damn Japanese way when we were in California."

"Mizuki, watch your tongue," he warns with his chopsticks pointed at me. His nostrils flare furiously. "I won't tolerate such disrespect from my daughter."

With my head turned away from him, I roll my eyes and stuff another chopstick-full of rice into my mouth, which is still recovering from the soup. He wanted me to move "to the land of my forefathers and become enriched with my ancestors' culture" after the Mom and Haruki incident.

I remember the cruise I'm going on tomorrow. "Hey Dad, can I go on a cruise with my clas-friends of mine?"

I can feel him smiling weakly. "Sure, that's great. Are you sure you'll be okay? You don't like being in the water, so why now?"

"I know what you're going to say, but there's a chance Haruki will be on it."

He slams his chopsticks down, snapping them into halves and losing whatever remained of his coolness.

"Ah! I send you to therapy, I exceed the amount of minutes I have to talk to you for you to move on. You so stubborn-you never want to listen to anything anyone tells you."

Dad gets off the stool, kicks it, but not hard enough for it to fly across the room, and storms out the door with a huge slam. I feel like crying but at the same time, I don't want to now-I've shed enough tears over my family.

After showering and slipping into a long, tangerine dress, I call a cab to take me to Lalaport Tokyo Bay. I leisurely spend the most unimportant six and a half hours of my life shopping for clothes and snacking on good old fashion Doritos. As I store-hop, I glance at the several missing posters that I put up a year ago:

The young boy and the female adult-MISSING. $20,000 REWARD IF FOUND (American currency). PLEASE CONTACT 718-843-9067 IF YOU HAVE ANY INFORMATION!

My cellphones buzzes and sings a melancholic tune in my pocket. I answer the phone and lean on the poster.

"Hello?"

"Seven o' clock tomorrow we board and then we return to Tokyo around eleven in the morning," Ana's shrilly voice rings in my ears, which means she is excited about something. "The ship is called Sakura no Ami. Be there or be square!"

Click. She hangs up.

*Good morning