love all

by acrite

Getting accepted into a prestigious middle school is cool and all, but Edma's laziness is doing more harm than help with Rikkaidai's ridiculous obsession with victory. Gen, OC.

2. hit

Title: love all

Summary: Getting accepted into a prestigious middle school is cool and all, but Edma's laziness is doing more harm than help with Rikkaidai's ridiculous obsession with victory. There's some haircuts and there's tennis, but all she wants to do is sleep.

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Chapter II: hit

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Ed tugged at her side bangs a bit - except, they weren't even bangs anymore. They were just an inch or so shorter than the rest of her hair, the majority which ran down somewhere to her lower back. Another sharp tug through her brown strands, and crack went her thin comb, breaking into two.

Ed stared at the two pieces. The yin and yang. Two pieces of a whole. Broken. She had destroyed the balance between the four nations, and now there was only one left to save the world.

Then she looked at herself again in her full length mirror and grimaced.

Angelina cackled as soon as the chat room opened.

"Imma close my Grounde tab. Right now." Angelina was heaving in her chair now, body shaking with laughter, ice cream cone tilting precariously in her hands. Ed scowled. "I'm serious. Bye bye. I swear to the Mochi God that I'll never talk to you, never, ever again."

Next to her, Angelina's father snickered.

Ed crossed her arms and pouted, having long given up on salvaging her hair.

"You look like a - a Pekingese!"

"A whut?"

When in doubt, rely on Goofle.

She typed in 'peeking knees.' Then, avoiding the pictures of bones and scarred knees, typed in 'dog' as an afterthought. And then chose the corrected name Goofle images was so kind to provide, because of course a Peeking Knees didn't exist. Probably.

Ed stared at the picture before her.

"How did you even remember that name?" Ed spluttered.

Angelina shrugged, licking her bright red ice cream. Was that cherry or strawberry flavored? Man, now Ed wanted some ice cream... but her friend was saying something, so she should probably be paying attention. "We had a school project last week. Something about choosing something we liked and making an ultra long presentation. So I chose dogs."

She paused for a bit before sniffling triumphantly, nose in the air and all.

"Of course, I got full points."

"Who did you terrify into working with you this time?"

"No one! In fact, I got asked to join a group." Angelina scowled. "Who wouldn't want to work with me, anyways?"

Mr. Johnson and Ed exchanged looks.

"Well? Any lame, barf-worthy projects there?"

Ed thought for a bit. Her French teacher had been been going on about some semester long assignment. "Nah. But actually, something did happen yesterday..."

If there's one thing about Angelina, it's that she was always ready for gossip. Half of the time, the queen was in the middle of it, but the for the rest, she was an active listener. "Tell me!"

And Ed did.

She told her best friend about the debate club, and then about poor guy and the scary match she was at yesterday. Then Ed talked about how the scary guy just stared at his victim without remorse. By the end of her two minute recount, Angelina was left gaping. The blonde struggled a bit for words.

"...Jesus, the tennis team all sound like dickweeds."

Angelina might looked like a bully (and she did sometimes kind of sound like one), but if there was something that the Johnson family absolutely hated, it was bullying.

"I mean, the other kids aren't bad," Ed said with an easy grin. "Just, y'know. Kinda like low-tone achievement supremacists?"

Angelina made a face.

"But yeah, I kinda wished I went to another school. Like Seiga-something school."

"No duh," Angelina deadpanned, tapping her fingernails on her keyboard.

Ed smiled nervously. Angelina waited for a bit, and then screamed.

"THEN WHY DIDN'T YOU?"

Ed chuckled a bit. "Uh. Well, funny story is, I might've accidentally woken up late? On the day I was supposed to turn in my registration forms?"

It was her father who had submitted in her registration forms for Rikkaidai. But he did give her the option to apply for other schools she might've liked. Anyways, it didn't matter in the end - she only had one choice left by the time the school year started.

The other girl's face was turning an unhealthily shade of red. Not the shy or embarrassed red, either - it was the angry red. Like her ice cream. Angelina's hands were gripping ridiculously hard at the cone she was holding, and it was starting to look like it might be crushed any second. Ed subtly jabbed at her volume button and turned it as low as it can go as a precautionary measure.

"I legit cannot believe my best friend is stuck in a school of bullies. Because of her own fault!"

"So, uh," she hurriedly said, "well, you remember what you asked yesterday? About me liking the school?"

"Yes?" Angelina gritted through her teeth.

"I honestly don't think so." Ed bit her lips. "The win-or-lose mentally I was talking about? It wasn't just a tennis club thing; I think the whole school's on it. It's like they're all...obsessed with winning."

"The whole school," Angelina repeated. She raised a disbelieving eyebrow.

"No, I'm serious. No teacher stopped Mr. Cap, and everyone was cheering the winner on."

"Sounds flaky," Mr. Johnson said. Ed had almost forgotten he was even there.

"I can't believe I'm saying that I agree with you, but I agree with you," Angelina told her dad. The blonde turned back to her friend. "But seriously, what in the world? Like, are they high or something?"

"High on victory?" Ed muttered gloomily. "Maybe."

The fear in that boy's face was still as pronounced as it had been when she saw it yesterday. The older tennis player looked no more welcoming, his stone cold face casting a dark shadow over her memories. And the look in the eyes of the bystanders. Her friends. So helpful, and then so blatantly cruel. It was hard connecting the two images together. Ed sighed, propping her head on the edge of her computer.

"Eww, get up, Ed! Your hair looks disgusting! And is that paint?"

"But I look adorable. Like a sea otter. Don't you like sea otters?"

"Sea otters don't even have hair!"

"Uh, yeah they do."

"Dad," Angelina shrieked.

"It's fine, it'll get better with time."

"Uh, no, it won't. Why is there paint in your hair?!"

"It's da theatre life, man," Ed said, and gave a peace sign. By coincidence, her eyes zoomed onto the little digital clock in the corner of her screen, and jolted. "Oh shit! I might actually be late today!"

Angelina rolled her eyes, but added one last piece of parting advice: "Your whole school is full of posers, so fake it till you make it!"

"Happy trails!" Mr. Johnson gave her a thumbs up, and that was the last thing Ed saw before she slammed her PC screen down and hightailed it out the door.

.

"And it looks like today's the day that Ed-san is lat-"

"I MADE IT!"

Ed crashed into her seat, leaving the door slammed open just as the last millisecond of the bell ended.

If a glare could kill, her teacher would be a murderer and Ed would be buried six feet under. Some brave souls clapped politely, and Ed would've grinned back if Kanji-sensei (which was totally his name) wasn't stabbing her with his eyes. Urayama gave her a pitying smile.

"Well, since someone is apparently so good at Japanese literature that they can afford to sleep in, why don't our resident genius read us the first passage of Rashōmon for us?"

This is gonna be a great day, Ed thought dryly, fumbling for her book.

.

This is a horrible day, Ed cried internally, looking at her pop quiz grade. A brilliant 2/6 stained the paper in front of her. History suuuucks.

Urayama was struggling to hold back his laughter, but he patted her on the shoulders in an effort to comfort.

There were a few sympathetic groans from the soccer players nearby, and Ed exchanged miserable glances with one of the benchwarmers who she knew sucked at history just as much as she did. He gave her a heartbroken look. She drew a line down from her left eye with one finger as mock tears.

"Nice job on making it on time," Okada greeted. His shadow casted itself over from her left side, shielding her from the blindingly bright sun.

Satō snorted at the paper in front of her from Urayama's right. He snatched it, holding it far above her head, and Ed made a half-hearted attempt to grab it back. "Yo, you seriously suck at history."

"No one was born perfect," Ed said wisely.

Satō grinned and tossed the quiz back. Too lazy to reach for it, she dropped her head on the desk, bemoaning her grades.

Urayama seemed to realize something and turned to Okada. "Wait, how did you know that Ed wasn't late?"

"Everyone on the South side of the building saw her run her way through the gates, and everyone on the first floor could hear the door slamming," Okada said wryly, pushing up his glasses. He looked at Ed again. "And what happened to your hair?"

"Oh, right! I saw it this morning, but I completely forgot about it!"

Ed tugged at the mop on her head. "Apparently, whatever was in my shampoo yesterday didn't like paint too much, so voila."

"Go get new shampoo!"

"Buy me some shampoo!"

"What? No way! It's your hair, do something about it yourself!"

"Then don't complain about it in the first place!"

Ignoring his friends squabbling, Okada looked contemplatively at Ed's hair and took it by a few strands. "Your hair's naturally dry. You should probably start using conditioner, too."

"Wow, you can tell just by looking?" Urayama leaned forward to take a closer look at his friend's hair - and true to Okada's words, there were a plentiful amount of split ends and frayed edges worsened by the dried paint. "Or, like, how did you manage to get it this bad?"

"See? Even Urayama's insulting you," Satō scoffed, pointing one accusing finger at her, only to quickly move it away as Ed tried to chomp on it. "Hey! Down!"

Ed groaned, dropping her head into her arms. She stretched out her leg, stepping and pulling her quiz over and swung one hand over the side to pick it up. "Is it really that bad?"

Three resounding "Yes" answered her.

"Geeze, fine! I'll go get some shampoo, alright? Lay off, guys," she said, shoving her paper into her bag, a sulk coming onto her face. Ed pouting was a rare sight indeed, often being the one teasing rather than the one being teased, but being ganged up by three of your friends was definitely irritating.

"Why not get a haircut?" Okada pointed out logically, "If it's shorter, it won't get in the way of your club activities, and you won't have to worry about split ends or dry hair as often."

Satō blinked. "Oh, that's true! You know, I'd expect someone with your personality to have short hair. Like a buzz cut." He thought about it and then snorted at whatever mental image came into find. "Okay, not like a buzz cut, but y'know what I'm talking about."

"That's actually true!" Urayama piped up. "Oh, here's some egg rolls - but yeah, I'd expect someone as lazy as you - not that it's a bad thing, of course! - to take less time with things like hair or clothes, or, or-"

She starred. He became quieter with each passing word, blush intensifying.

"That...sounded bad, doesn't it?"

"Yes. I'm super angry."

"R-really?" As he made a move to profusely apologize, Ed broke out cackling.

"Nah, just messing with ya." She gobbled down the egg roll offered and continued, mouth still stuffed, "But that's exactly why, guys. You know how long a trip to the barber takes? Hours. Hours."

"That's because your hair's ridiculously long," Okada rolled his eyes. "The shorter it is, the less time it takes. And it helps if you took a shower beforehand."

"Wait, you can do that?"

"It's actually recommended," Okada said, a look of subtle amusement resting on his face. He took out his lunchbox, opening it to reveal a perfectly balanced meal not unlike the ones Urayama and Satō had, and muttered a quick 'Itadakimasu'. "Tell you what, if you're free tomorrow, head down to Yokohoma's bus station and I'll get you a free haircut."

"Done deal," Ed chirped, giving him a thumbs up as she swiped some of his broccoli with her borrowed chopsticks.

"You're gonna pay for her haircut?" Satō said incredulously. Then he stopped to ponder on those words. "Wait, actually, if it would spare me the sight, I would too. Hey, how bout I tag along and pay half?"

"Then how about we split the cost in thirds?" Urayama offered teasingly, nudging Ed in the ribs. She swatted his hand away. Her muffled protests - or at least what sounded like protests, either went unheard or ignored.

"There's no need, but you're all welcome to come along," Okada shrugged. "My mother's a hairdresser, and if it means fixing up this mess, she'll happily give up an hour of her time."

Satō 'hmmmed,' and after a short moment of companionable silence, asked, "You think I should get a haircut too?"

"Sure. Cut it bald."

He scowled.

"You get a mohawk."

"Rock-paper-scissors; winners listen to losers; two out of three."

"Winner listens to loser? You can't change the rule like that!"

"Watch me."

"You're just saying that cause you know you'll loose!"

Ed smirked, arms bending, elbows flapping.

"Yer a chicken? Caw, ca-caw, caw!"

"Yer kansai accent's trash!"

From the side, Urayama and Okada exchanged two identical looks of resigned exasperation and returned to their meal to watch the comedy-act play out.

.

Ed groaned miserably, dragging a hand through her hair and grimacing as it roughly pulled against the tangles. The rubber band, borrowed without permission from a jar in the sports office, might as well as be a lost cause. It wasn't impossible to pull it out, of course, but doing that meant sacrificing more hair and risking a bald spot. Ed wasn't exactly a masochist, so...

"Good work," a girl cheerfully said.

"G-Good work," Ed mumbled back, energy absent from her normally bright self.

If there was one thing that she severely lacked, it was stamina - and of course their teacher decided that making students run a mile and a half nonstop would be the perfect cure to soothing his anger issues. Rumors were that That One Prankster probably did something again, but Ed was too much in pain to care. Giving up on her hair, she focused all her efforts into moving her body to the theatre room.

If only she could magically teleport - but Ed wasn't a Mahou Shoujo so she was left to the fate of weak human beings who neglected exercise.

Hell.

The Water Bottle girl from yesterday offered her flask up.

Ed shook her head, haven already stolen a moment at the water fountain during the run when their teacher was distracted, but thanked her regardless. She grabbed her bag and her bag of messy clothing reserved for painting. After donning her uniform copy - as her other uniform was sitting in water right now after being dosed in nail polish remover the day before - she made her way back to her classroom.

Along the way, she met an Angel.

"Hey Ed." Ah, the blissful teddy bear of smiles and ice cream. She swore she could see him radiating sparkles. "Aren't you supposed to be helping out with your committee today?"

Or otherwise known as the Bringer of Reminders and Death.

"Noooo?"

Urayama's hair seemed to droop accompanied with his disapproving expression, though there were sparks of amusement dancing in his eyes. It didn't last long, and his face broke out into a smile again. "Go on and get working! I'll be cheering for you."

"How sweet," she said, a sigh escaping her lips before a matching smile appeared. She languidly set the pace to the nearing classroom and took a glance at the bag already in his arms, tennis case at the ready. "Alright, man, I'll see ya."

Ed internally prayed to whatever Goddess of Luck that the Sports Director would be kind to his proteges today and that she wouldn't have to do much work. Of course she wasn't too worried about being late or anything, all after-school activities were informed of each student's Committee rounds, but the last time she had to help out, she was ran ragged as a mailman of materials.

"Hey, you're a part of the PE Committee, right? Help the kids over there carry the computers over to the lab."

Unfortunately, Lady Luck's other name was Miss Fortune.

"What in the world does our committee gotta do with computers?" a disgusted voice grumbled out next to her.

"Dunno, man, but I feel ya," Ed replied under her breath, exchanging looks with a disgruntled schoolmate.

"Think like we're just being used as lackeys?" He smirked at her before pulling up his sleeves, revealing thinly defined muscles, and grabbed one side of the many, many computers awaiting the rest of their peers. Only the older students, probably third years, seemed exempted from this task, instead moving into the nearby meeting room with papers in their hands.

"Not think," Ed replied wryly, moving to help him grab the other side of the computer. "Know. We've been doing that for, what, the past month? Have we even been doing anything else?"

"Lift on three. Exactly, man, you'd think we'd be planning crap or doing something with sports, but nooo, we're stuck being the teachers' slaves. And a one, two - "

They heaved up the computer, and after some painful seconds on struggling on Ed's side, settled it upon the prepared carts.

"My poor arms. I can feel em going sore by the end of the day."

The boy gave her an amused and rather condescending expression. "You gotta be pretty weak if you think it's gonna be that bad."

"Accusation noted and confirmed," Ed said, raising her hands in surrender. "I bet you're in a sport."

He grinned, now, and looked even more happy than he did before, though he did give her a considering look. "Yeah, in tennis. Our team's real good, and our sempai's stupidly strong - but I'm a regular. Thought you'd at least know me."

Does this school revolve around tennis or something? Then Ed remembered the fangirls, the plaque of medals and trophy near the entrance of the school, and the constant praises the school body sang about the Rikkaidai Tennis Club. Oh yeah, it does. At least that explains his arrogance.

"Just transferred in last month," Ed grinned back, forcing her memories and hesitation down. Now that she looked more closely, the boy vaguely resembled the blob of rudeness she could barely recall during the aftermath of the brutal match. "Name's Edma."

He waited for a bit more for her last name, but realizing she finished her introduction, bobbed his head, helping her transfer the next computer over to the rolling cart. "Mine's Kirihara Akaya, a second year. I haven't seen you around though. You come from another Committee or something?"

"Nah, we probably just got stuck with different groups for the past few weeks. Last time, I was running round trying to past on messages from one teacher to the next."

He gave her a sympathetic look, groaning in remembrance. "Yeah, my group had to carry some shelves worth of books to the library. Dunno why the hell they couldn't have just sent the books directly there - or, like, get the Library Committee to do that crap instead."

"Right? It's like we got stuck with all the manual labor cause they think we're full of beefy, muscular bodybuilders just cause we're in the Sports Committee."

They both rolled the cart over to the computer lab in companionable complaints, moaning and groaning over their tasks and then about their clubs. Ed wasn't surprised to hear of the ever-respected, ever-feared Tennis Vice-Captain's demands again; not even the Regulars were sparred from his spartan-like methods apparently.

Kirihara took the first turn of pushing the cart with Ed following him, stretching her arms. She definitely felt curious about the Jerk-sempai from yesterday, but it seemed that That Evil Vice Captain's punishment had followed through, and it didn't seem to be a good conversation topic.

"By the way, what happened with that?" He made a gesture at her hair.

"It's not that bad," Ed returned to her sulk, immediately recalling her friends jibes. Kirihara rudely snorted, not bothering to reply with words. "Okay, fine, it's a bit bad. Gonna get a haircut during the weekend, probably."

"Wait, seriously? Me too!" Kirihara said, laughing. He reach up to tug a few strands his messy hair straight, "Wouldn't it be awesome if we ended up going to the same place?"

"I honestly have no clue where I'm going. But hey, that would be cool!"

"I thought girls liked spending a ton of time on hair and makeup and all that. Don't you spend hours researching the best salon around or something?"

She thought about immediately calling out his words as sexist before realizing that Angelina, and probably Okada, did exactly what he suggested. So she just dismissed that and pointed out, "Hey, guys do that too. And I ain't too much of a hair-care kinda person."

"No, guys - " he faltered comically. "Huh. I guess you're right."

"You got an example in mind?"

"Well, there's no proof, but..." Kirihara lowered his voice conspiratorially and leaned in to whisper. "There's no way my Captain has naturally pretty hair. It's, like, as pretty as my sister's. And she spends a whole hour hogging the bathroom in the morning."

Sounded like her step-mother. She felt a wide grin crawling upon her face. "I bet he poses in front of the mirror everyday."

Ed struck an exaggerated pose, flipping her hair as the two made their way back for their third or fourth round, passing by another couple going the opposite way. Kirihara replied by pouting and fluttering his eyelashes by blinking expeditiously, making him look more freakish than seductive. They all laughed, the other two students sending the pair amused grins as they headed into the lab.

"Don't tell anyone, though. He'd murder me and let me decompose in his locker if he found out, then woo the whole school into forgetting me."

"It's okay, I'll attend your funeral if he does." She sent him a mischievous grin and he whacked her arm lightly, barking out a short laugh.

"You're an accomplice. If I'm going down, I'm dragging you with me."

"Tsk, tsk. So childish!"

As Kirihara headed towards the last few computers left - hopefully meaning that it'd be their last trip before they were left off - Ed spotted a rolling coin in her side vision. Eyes sparkling, she turned right outside the door to swoop down and grab the 100 yen coin, flicking it into the air, catching it, and then pocketing it victoriously.

Someone coughed behind her. Her fingers twitched, and the coin fell out, rolling across the floor.

Ed looked as it rolled away, and away, and away - until a foot stepped on it halting it in its motions.

"Many apologies for startling you," the stranger said. He reached for the coin and offered it back. With spectacles perched on his nose and a height that towered over hers, he looked and felt very much like her math teacher.

"No problem," Ed beamed back, accepting it and internally banishing any feelings of embarrassment. "Uh, Sensei's out, the teacher in charge of the Sports Committee, I mean. I think he's in the computers lab."

"Oh, there's no need to worry," the probably-older-student reassured, pushing his glasses up with his middle and ring fingers. "I had just finished speaking with him. I'm here for my kouhai - Kirihara Akaya-kun, is he in the room?"

"Uhh, n- wait, yes? I think?" Kirihara, Kirihara...oh, wait, wasn't that the name of the guy she was working with? Whoops. And kouhai, he said, which meant the glasses guy was older than her at the very least. For some stupid reason, all the third years around looked more like adults than they did middle schoolers. "Oh, yeah, hold up."

Ed gave her sempai a thumbs up and quickly reentered the room, spotting out that messy black hair nearby the almost cleared tables.

"Oh, there you are! I thought you ditched me or something; I already got the computer on the cart. Let's get this over with."

"Sempai, some dude's calling for you."

"Who - and, wait, sempai? Wait, you're younger than me?"

"Yeah? And the stranger said he was your sempai. Combed back hair, glasses that cover his eyes, super tall?" Ed raised her hand far over her head to imitate his height.

"Probably Yagyū-sempai," he ahh-ed in understanding. He started out the door, and glanced furtively back at her. "You're younger than me?"

"Get going, sempai."

After a few minutes as Ed helped some students she worked with last week carry the second-to-last computer onto their cart, Kirihara returned, shadows casted across his face.

"What was that about?"

"Just that the Regulars are meeting up in the swimming pool for practices. We gotta do some water exercises again or whatever." Kirihara groaned miserably, covering his face with his hands. Once, during the summer, Ed went swimming for a whole day with Angelina's family, and all she could remember the day after was a lingering soreness and body aches. Say what you want about water sports, but there was no denying that they were tough as hell. She patted his arm twice in pity. "...You're younger than me?"

Ed was so done.

"Dude, sempai, why're you so stuck on that?"

He looked aghast. "You call me sempai but you're not using polite language!"

"Uhh."

"No one ever calls me sempai! No one!"

"That's probably because you hang with the third years, man. That ain't my problem."

He sulked.

"I finally get a friendly kouhai and she doesn't treat me with any respect..."

"Oh, c'mon! I call you sempai, don't I?"

The two squabbled as they finished up their tasks along with their fellow classmates, leaving after dismissal with friendly waves and a "See you next week!"

.

Stepping into the apartment was always a relief after hours of getting bossed around and even more walking from school. Being home meant that she was finally free to nap and rest as she pleased, or at least until the stress of homework started to pile up. The stairs underneath her feet were solid and comfortable in its familiarity, but as Ed pulled out the keys to open the door, the knob turned without any notice.

A beautiful face met hers.

"Ed-san, you're back," greeted the young woman. She was pretty in a subdue way unlike her biological mother, with makeup adorning her corners of her face and soft hair styled into a high bun. There was a trash bag in her hand which she was likely planning to throw out.

Ed stumbled back a bit, allowing the other to pass out, pulling on a smile that she knew, without a doubt, was as awkward as hell. "Hey, Mira-san."

Mira bobbed her head politely with a mirroring awkward smile and passed downstairs.

"Welcome back!" Another voice cheered out.

The only one who would bother welcoming her home was Yuuto, a snot-nosed little brat with the confidence the size of a dragon. Unfortunately, he was also friendly and cheerful enough to warrant that arrogance, his friends always surrounding him wherever he went. He hung from the couch, half of his body precariously sliding off the cover.

"Be careful not to fall," Ed said in English, moving in to ruffle his hair. "I'm back. You're home early, aren't you?"

"Mom and dad said we're getting dinner together tonight. I wanna go and eat shrimp, and lobsters, and - "

"Don't forget your veggies, alright?" Ed laughed, moving towards the kitchen. She quickly grabbed an apple before making a turn for her computer in the small office.

She moved towards her dad and his wife's room on a second thought, knocking on the door. A bleary voice answered her - it seemed that everyone preferred speaking in English at home except for Mira - and Ed quickly popped her head in.

"Hey, Dad, you got off early huh?"

An aging face met her, frown lines apparent in his forehead and mouth. "Edma. Do you need something?"

"Ah, yeah, actually. You think I can go with some friends to, uh, Yokihama? Station tomorrow?"

"I think you mean Yokohama station," he said plainly, before reaching over to his wallet and pulled out a couple of bills. "Here, enjoy yourself. Call if you're going to stay out past eight."

"Thanks," Ed cheerfully replied, pocketing the cash. She didn't actually need any for her trip tomorrow, but free money wasn't something she was gonna refuse.

The small office was exactly that - ridiculously small. In fact, the whole apartment was rather small, and while her dad and Mira was both used to it, the later more at home here than she was in America, Yuuto and Ed preferred the wide space their old house allowed. Still, if there was something Ed was proud to be able to do, it was adapt. Though Yuuto and Ed technically shared a room, she was more often found in the office surrounded with her paints, her computer, and blankets draping across the folded chair leaning against the couch.

Honestly, though, the room was the same size of their bathroom. It was cramped but comfortable in a cozy way, the walls painted a peachy cream and white blinds covering the sole window. There were two bookcases set right next to one another, one filled with all things studious, and the other covered with games, movies, and packs of snacks. Somehow, the movers had managed to shove in a couch that Ed ended up falling asleep in more often than not.

As she surfed the web for hints and suggestions on beating one of the many, many mini-bosses that plagued Urayama's game, she head voices out the door.

Ed craned her neck towards the door, hearing only snippets of the conversation.

"...don't think...out so late..."

"It's her choice, Edma's mature enough to decide what she wants to do," resounded her father's voice, before quickly getting shushed by Mira.

Ed continued to mash at the A button, biting back a sigh.

Unlike Yuuto, who was easily impressionable by the outgoing friends he made back in the States and the newfound liberty of modern day kids, Mira was raised back in a more conservative Japan some twenty years ago or so (with an equally conservative family; there was no way she had been a gyaru). She often frowned upon Ed's habit of spending the night out at Angelina or any of her other friends and her dad's agreeable nature in regards to her actions. Yuuto's preference for America and English did little to help.

The Grounde tab piped up with its well-known ping. Ed pulled up the screen absently, watching as her Thief destroyed the last few HP the beast had, successfully vanquishing the monster.

"Ooh, I knew you were at home!"

"Whassup? You don't usually call now."

"I have to be out the whole day for cheer practice tomorrow. Forgot to tell you, but like, our coach was so pissed cause we kept messing up the routine. Like, what's her damage?"

"Probably you guys messing up the routine," Ed offered, cracking out a grin, knowing full well that that was rhetorical question.

Angelina scowled. "We learnt it three days ago, Ed. Oh, also! I just got a new massage chair. You should totally come back and try it out, what's with your bent backbone and all."

Ed ahaha-ed her way out of that particular route of conversation, least she wanted to be on the end of yet another sulking session.

"Well, funny thing is, I was actually on planning to tell you the same thing. Some friends invited me out for a haircut - "

"Oh my gosh! Get me their number and I'll personally thank them."

" - so I'll also be out tomorrow, too."

"What a lucky coincidence. At least your friends there aren't assholes."

"Right. How bout we call once a week, then? Since we're getting busier and all now."

"Hmph. I mean, I guess," Angelina said. She pouted, eyebrows furrowed. "Will you still call me every week?"

"Promise." Ed grinned.

"Every week?"

"I swear on my games and computer," Ed vowed.

Her friend finally smiled, eyes brightening. Thank god Angelina wasn't throwing a tantrum. The same question would've led to a tears and screams just a week before.

"But, like, how are classes? You didn't befriend anyone you shouldn't again, right?" the blonde asked pointedly.

Ed hesitated for a second, looking up from her Tintendo 3TS.

"Remember what I said this morning? I dunno anymore, Angel. I mean, I just met a Regular on the team - "

Angelina gasped, horrified.

" - and he turned out to be pretty nice."

"They're brainwashing you!"

"Rarw, gimme your yummy brain mash," Ed said dully clawing her hands. "But, no, seriously." Ed spun on her chair, trying simultaneously pull up the blanket so it didn't get caught in the wheels, and then pulled the gigantic comforter around her shoulders. "I think I'll just let that matter rest, and it's not like I'm going to become friends with the Regulars or anything. One Drama class a day is enough for me, thanks."

"God forbid you get involved in drama," her friend said. Knowing her, Angelina herself was probably smack dab in the middle of her school's recent relationship crisis.

"Well, I'm going to go make some dinner now."

Angelina raised an eyebrow. "Doesn't your dad, like, cook dinner usually? Or that wife of his?"

"No, they went out for dinner tonight," Ed said, making a crappy drawing of a fish in the air. "I think they went out to get seafood."

She was silent for a bit. "They didn't invite you?"

"Nah, they knew I'd probably want to stay home," Ed shrugged.

Angelina's eyebrows furrowed, the corners of her mouth dragging down, her profile creating a picture worthy of a promotional poster of Mean Ladies. "Kay," she said shortly. Then she sighed, as if trying to release any built up anger, plastering a sparkling white grin on her face. Ed felt her heart warmed. "Go and make some instant noodles. It's not like you can make anything else."

"How mean," Ed sniffled, clutching her heart. From the screen, Angelina rolled her eyes and waved goodbye. "I'll talk to you next week!"

.

Biting back a yawn, Ed pulled herself towards Yuuto and her's room. She peeked in quietly, looking at the boy sprawled out across his bed in an undignified manner, covered by two blankets, and then at her blanket-less bed. If it was one thing they shared a common love for, it was blankets. Ed herself had two layers back in the office room where she had inadvertently fallen asleep in the night before. She felt a smile twitching at her lips but quickly tippy-toed her way over to closet to grab her clothes before retreating away to the bathroom.

A quick shower later, Ed pulled on her sneakers and made her way out the door checking for her wallet and keys out of habit. There was no one up yet - the whole family usually slept in till at least nine on the weekend. The meeting was at ten, but there was no way she wasn't going to get lost, so Ed made her way down and out the door minutes after eight.

And, as expected, Ed found herself stranded in the middle of the streets half past eight. Well, not completely stranded, because there were the occasional pedestrians, early-birds, housewives, and some company employees who were subjecting themselves to a weekend of work.

Barber Mojya was impossible to find. Absolutely, utterly, and completely impossible to find.

Either that or she was trash with directions.

Crouched on the ground next to a candy store, Ed moped. The old granny who ran the store was super nice and offered her a lollipop that Ed insisted on paying for, but either Ed's pronunciation of Moyja was completely off or the granny truly had no clue where the barber shop was. At least the candy tasted good. It was like strawberry mixed with blueberries. Checking her phone again told her of the ticking time. Urayama's attempts at sending her information over Dot, while warming, was decidedly unhelpful.

"Hey, you alright there? Moping isn't good. It's not good at all."

Ed angled her head upwards.

"Momo-sempai, who's this?"

Ed blinked as three boys came into view. One towered the other in height - the one called Momo-sempai- while the second had a cap covering his eyes from view.

"Hey, 'Momo-sempai,'" Ed chirped. "You know where Barber Mojya is?"

The guy she addressed offered her a hand and pulled her up in one smooth motion, Ed nodding her thanks before she flashed a piece sign at the other two people present. The third guy, the redhead, grinned cheerfully at her.

"We're heading there right now!" he meowed, slit-like eyes curling into half crescents.

Ed's mouth dropped open. "A human cat!"

He laughed in good nature and meowed playfully again.

"Come tag along!" Momo-sempai patted her on the shoulders and jabbed a thumb at the shortest one there. Ed was pleasantly surprised to find that her assumption was right; the boy, even with his cap, was at least a good two inches shorter than her. "That's Echizen." Then he moved his fingers towards the the redhead. "And that's - "

"Kikumaru Eiji at your service! You can just call this guy here Ochibi!"

"Who's Ochibi," grumbled Ochibi. The boy scowled, tugging his cap down though Ed managed to catch a glimpse of his golden eyes which were very also very reminiscent of a cat's. Ed would bet money that either of them owned one as a pet.

"Wow, sure fits him!" Ed smiled broadly. Kikumaru beamed in return.

"Right?"

Momo began leading the way, chatting about the most recent video game from Tintendo and about the new Sports Specialty Store a few miles from her apartment. Within a few minutes, Ed determined that the three were, in fact, tennis players. To be honest, she might as well as assume any teenagers she'd meet in the city as tennis players at this point, what with the nonstop rackets and balls lying in every street corner around the area.

"I heard one of the classic Last Fantasy game's getting ported over to the 3TS," Kikumaru added conversationally.

"Seriously?" Echizen said, attention turning to the topic at hand. His scowl deepened. "I finally get a Tintendo DS and then they decide to release another counsel..."

"I get you," Momo said sympathetically. "Every time a new game is out, I have to keep myself from buying the Shrimp Cutlet Burger."

"The only reason my allowance isn't in the negatives is cuz my friend lend me his games." Ed and Momo held up their wallet and shook it in self-pity. "And another offered getting me a free haircut. Aren't friends nice?"

"Right? Echizen invited us, too!" Momo swung an arm around the smaller boy's shoulders.

"No, I didn't."

"We found out he was going to get a haircut, so I was like 'Hey, let's all go,'" Kikumaru piped in, pointing at his stylized hair.

"Without my input."

"So we decided to go together," the older students chorused happily.

Ed nudged the glaring boy, though with his still-present baby-fat, he looked far more cute than scary. "Wow, how nice!"

He turned his glare on her and stomped forward to walk ahead next to Kikumaru.

Momo fell in pace with Ed, glancing at the shorter and only brunette. "By the way, who're you?"

Kikumaru and Echizen took a start as they both swiveled around to look at the other two accusingly, chorusing in a rather amusing fashion: "You don't know each other?"

Momo and Ed turned to look at each other, exchanging laughs and then shrugged simultaneously.

.

"Ed? Ed! There you are!"

Urayama looked like he had tears in his eyes. One of his hand was holding the door to Baber Moyja, which apparently was located between a cafe and another beauty salon, while the other waved his phone in the air. Wait, phone? Ed glanced at her own (which she had set to silence on habit after getting it confiscated in school a few weeks ago) only to see an anxiety-inducing number of text messages, the majority of which came from Urayama himself. Whoops.

"Haha, sorry! I made it, though?"

"Don't worry, we got Ed here safe and sound," Momo echoed her words, giving the panicked redhead a thumbs up.

Okada popped his head out, swinging it around to meet hers. "C'mon, get it." He dragged Urayama in, who on the other hand was doing a wonderful impression of a blow-fish.

The four entered.

"You barely made it on time," Satō congratulated. A woman stood next to him, a comb and scissors in hand, pin straight hair cut in a sharp bob. She spared her a glance and greeted them before returning to snipping away Satō's hair. "I dunno how you do it, but that's a gift."

True to his words, it was literally a minute right before ten.

"I do my best."

Another woman with dyed golden hair laughed softly. "Welcome! We have two open seats; do the rest of you mind waiting?"

"No," Ed and her three new acquaintances said in unison.

The shop was clean and pretty in presentation with a distinct smell of chemicals and nail polish, but not overpowering to the point of nauseating. There were two other customers there: a woman who was getting her already-cut hair blow-dried, and a man who was getting a shave. Two other men were helping the other two customers, so either the cool lady working on Satō or the nice lady who greeted them must've been Okada's mom. There was another older woman at the counter, but she looked old enough to be Ed's grandmother, so Ed was 90% sure it wasn't her.

Ed would bet that it was the woman finishing up Satō's haircut.

Just as soon as she thought that, Okada walked over to an empty station and began to raise the chair.

"Mother, this is Ed," Okada said in passing to the cool woman in heels. Hey, whaddya know. She was right! He steered Ed towards the empty seat and she plopped in. "The one that I was talking about."

The woman set down her scissors, and walked over to grab a spray bottle of some sort, looking at Ed along the way. Her eyes rested on Ed's hair, sharp face twitching slightly. "I can see why you asked."

Satō and Echizen snorted.

Having long given up on protesting about her obviously perfect hair, Ed sighed and resigned herself to an especially long session.

.

Infinitely more glad that Okada was kind enough to tell her about showering beforehand, Ed didn't even want to think about the extra time it would've taken. Though her hairdresser - Okada's mom - knew exactly what she was doing and never painfully pulled at Ed's hair, the duration of the whole cut ended up creating a stiff knot in her neck.

The other boys got along surprisingly fine though she'd reckon it was partially because they had somehow managed to not talk about tennis. Apparently, the other kids were from Seishun Academy, aka the school she had originally planned to go to. Unfortunately, Ed only had herself to blame and she didn't quite have the ability to time-travel, so she'd had to live with Rikkaidai for what it was worth.

With a lighter head, hair now cut to barely past her shoulders, Ed was the last to finish. They stepped out, Satō and Urayama paying for their own trims while Ed was let scot-free. The Seigaku guys were talking about visiting a burger place before going home and extended the invitation to the rest of the teens there.

She thought she caught a glimpse of a familiar head with untamed black hair outside the window but her attention was drawn away.

"So, you going?"

"For burgers? Hell yeah!" Momo and Ed exchanged fist bumps.

Kikumaru turned to her friends. "And what bout you guys?"

Satō readily accepted the invitation but Okada and Urayama decided to stay behind. The former wanted to help close the shop and the latter had a prior appointment with his family. Ed tearfully waved them farewell after sending Okada's stone-faced mother many thanks.

WcDonalds was luckily located nearby Yokohoma Station. Ed ordered a Big Mac, her go-to choice back in America and was happy to find that it tasted similar to the one back home, if only a bit more healthy in comparison. Satō had gotten a double cheeseburger along with Ryoma, Kikumaru a hamburger, and Momo that shrimp burger Ed was sure he mentioned not too long ago.

In the midst of their conversation about Takeshi Konomi's current ongoing manga, Ed received a text from her father. She barely glanced it over, reading something about him going to one of those dinner meetings that all businessmen in Japan seemed to like going to, and that Yuuto was already home with his mother.

They parted ways at the station not too long after that, though Echizen lived the closest to her out of all of them. Through enough probing, she found out that he did, in fact, have a cat that he no doubted spoiled very much.

The detour to Karupin took five hours out of her nonexistent schedule, but it was very much worth it. Ryoma, at the very least, was starting to grudgingly tolerate her presence, and his father was an absolutely riot.

("No, we're not dating, sir. We're rivals for Karupin's affection!"

Ryoma scoffed as he snuggled the Himalayan cat huddled in his hands. "Look for your own cat. This one isn't for sale."

"Haha! Well, you're welcome to stay for dinner, young missy. More time to win Karu-chan away from my brat of a son, right?" And then he winked.)

So all in all, it was a nice, cheerful day. The sun was already dawning by the time she got off the train station to walk the last stretch home, casting a warm orange glow on the road.

There were a few muttering older women huddling up to each other. As Ed passed them, one called out to her.

"Hey, little girl, it's best to take another route."

Ed turned to her, a befuddled smile on her face.

The woman next to the first speaker nodded, eyebrows crinkled in worry. "There's a fire spreading around one of the apartments there."

Ed froze. And then she chuckled a bit nervously. "Well, let's hope it's not my apartment, then!"

She turned to walk steadily away, ignoring the two women's calls. They sounded rightfully frustrated, but Ed was too far lost in her thoughts to bother caring. Step, one, two, step, one, two - and then, before she knew it, she was running.

The air burned her lungs, the pretty light of amber mixed with red glowing from the buildings right ahead.

I can't be that unlucky, can I?

But with each passing step, a growing dread expanded within the bottom of her chest. She didn't even want to know what her face looked like. Chances are, her stupid smile was still frozen on her face - and ohh no. I really am that unlucky.

There was a crowd outside her apartment and a distinct lack of present firefighters. And lots of crying. Probably from residents. There was an elderly old man and who seemed to be his daughter and son clutching his hand. There was a small family of three standing shock still. And there were the occasional single staring bystander.

Someone wailed behind her.

Lo-and-behold, there was Mira. Safe and sound. But she looked horrified or terrified. Both, probably. Tears were streaming down her cheeks, hands gripping a convenience store bag as she shouted something indiscernible. As soon as her head swung to meet Edma's, she looked even more desolate if possible.

The air in Edma's lungs were choked out of her.

"M-Mira-san, can't breath," Edma squeaked.

But Mira was too far lost and busy screaming and shaking Edma's collar like a ragged doll, even though Edma was 100% human, thank you very much. It took a few precious seconds before Ed could make out the words Yuuto and where were you and why him before Edma bothered to look around for Yuuto. A small, six years old kid barely a year less than half her age. And very, undeniably, absent.

"Why isn't Yuuto here?!"

Edma's strength dissipated and her hand dropped. Then an unreasonable burst of anger fueled her fingers to whack away Mira's hand.

"Then why don't you go save him yourself?!"

Then she felt angry again, but not at Mira.

At herself.

Because she herself wasn't doing anything. Mira looked back, wide-eyed, and then collapsed onto the floor shaking and shuddering as sobs wracked her body. Edma stared at her, and then turned to cough. Her brain, for whatever reason, decided to inform her at that moment that she was near burning wood and that ashes weren't exactly the best thing to be breathing in.

She turned to stare at the building.

Another couple ran out, the doors still relatively untouched, the guy wrapping his hands around his lover in a protective embrace. The fire seemed concentrated on the second floor, and it was spreading at an escalating speed. Her eyes landed on her own apartment. Relatively untouched. But there was a bit of fire licking along its roof frame.

Just wait till the firefighters get here.

It's not like I can do anything.

Move back, unless you want to get burnt into a crisp.

Or, you know. Prepare for Yuuto's funeral.

But it's fine! I haven't even known him for long.

Is it really alright to think like that?

As her mind caught up with her thoughts, Ed reached to cover her mouth with one hand and her stomach with the other hand.

I feel sick.

She didn't think she had ever hated herself this much before. She closed her eyes. Listened to Mira still sobbing rather uselessly to the side. Opened them. Took a breath. Glanced at the fearful or blank faces of those around here.

Angelina, if I die, you can take my clothes. But please bury my games with me.

And then Edma ran.

There were some more screams. They sounded louder, and Edma thought that somebody reached out to grab her for a moment, but through sheer determination and reckless i-don't-even-know-what-i'm-doing, Ed managed to crash into her apartment after dropping her stupid keys three times over.

And there was that crying.

"Yuuto? Yuuto!" She sounded like a banshee. The crying got louder. Yeah, she couldn't blame him. "Where are you?"

Not in the kitchen, or her father's and Mira's room, or in their shared room. She even looked under the stupid beds. Who in the world would hide under a bed during a fire, anyways? It looked like someone ran havoc on the rooms. The red was getting brighter too. Like the poisonous mushrooms in Alice in Wonderland. She felt like she was on a hallucinatory trip.

She looked up. Oh god. The fire was indoors now, too.

And when it was indoors, it spreads much, much faster.

She ran to her office and clawed at the locked door. "You've got to be kidding me."

Then she kicked.

"Yuuto, get outta there!"

Without waiting for a reply, she kicked it again.

The door unlocked, and she burst in.

Oh God, oh God, oh God, fuck this, I can't do this, nopey-nope, hell no, oh God I liked that stupid couch too, and oh God my computer Angelina's gonna kill me -

She reached out to grab the crying Yuuto. His face was blotchy and red and didn't she read somewhere that children had a smaller lung capacity? Hell. He tried clawing out of her hands, but Edma heaved him towards the door.

She tripped over her ridiculously large blanket (with a Wonderland print on it, really?) in the tiny space and crashed into the mirror she kept in the office. Edma hissed as a scratch ran across her legs. The pain didn't register as unbearable, but it was there was all but an instance before it faded away into her panic. She stared at the bright crimson for a second. Aw man. Red's my favorite color too, she thought hysterically.

Water? The bathroom. Her hands were going to get very ugly marks at this point, and kids could surprisingly be strong. Good sometimes. But in this case? Her guts weren't liking that fact so much. She turned on the faucet and didn't register how lucky she was that it was still working until latter, instead splashing it over both her and Yuuto's face. Then she pulled him away just as a bang resounded around the office room.

Curiosity killed the cat, but the Cheshire Cat was obnoxious enough to do whatever he wants anyways.

She peaked in and swallowed at the state of her PC. Then, as soon as she saw another crackle in the motherboard as flames crawled up to the broken particles, she slammed the office door shut.

Face wet, Edma heaved Yuuto towards the exit. He cried and struggled.

"No, no, it's fine, see, it's just the - "

The frames crashed down, effectively closing their route of escape.

" - exit."

Edma felt tears welling up in her eyes. The door wasn't completely broken, but it was covered in fire to the point that Ed didn't want to even bother. She didn't quite know whether it was because she was panicked or whether it was because her eyes were really starting to hurt. Being in this dry of an environment can't be good. If she was Alice, then Yuuto was the goddamn Queen of Hearts. The one block to her road of freedom.

She sucked in a breath and immediately cursed her actions as her body wracked itself with coughs. With negative something strength, she managed to pull open the windows. Stumbling onto the balcony, she tugged Yuuto. He turned to look at the open space beneath them. There was a millisecond where his pull slackened before it was replaced with a painful grip.

Fire vs. Height, apparently the latter was the lesser of the two evils.

She took him and pulled him over the edge, struggling to find some good footing. There were some people pointing up, but Edma couldn't make out their faces. Yuuto was clutched tightly in her arms. Falling from the second story can't be enough to kill a person, right? Don't land on my head, land on my feet, don't land on my head, land on my feet.

Alice, oh Alice, why must you be so mad?

Her vision was going haywire to the point that Edma considered getting glasses. Then she thought about how stupid she was for thinking about getting glasses when her home of one month was literally crashing down around her. Better get outta here before I think bout wasting money.

She gripped Yuuto's hand and he climbed up to clamp himself around her body. Her hands went to cover his head.

Crack, went the door, and crack went her legs.

Down, down, down we all go.

Dammit Alice, Edma thought hazily, sirens screaming in her ears and yells muted in its echoes, Yuuto's thankfully unbroken head still in her arms, If this is what Wonderland feels like, I'll stick to running marathons, thanks.

.

A/N: Dedicated to my former beta Serendipithy, who still went over 90% of this...two years ago. Oops. Sorry for the delay to both my readers and my beta and for vanishing from fandom life for so long. Man, I sure hope I finish this series one day in my lifetime. TW: burning in a fire.