Title: Firefly
Chapter 3/?
Author: La Fortuna
Rating: PG-13
July 08-09, 2001
Disclaimer: SM does not belong to me.
But the story dies. Try to take it, and
-d-i-e- an agonizing death. -_-
AN: The grammar may be a bit confusing,
mainly because I'm jumping around in the
timeline or I'm trying some sort of e.e.
cummings rip-off. But then again, I
don't have much of a grasp on English
grammar (i.e. the past tenses), so I'm
trying to dodge it. =) I'll learn it
well, someday, eventually. Also, in the
future, I might consolidate the
chapters... less chapters, more content
in each.
Thank you guys for all the reviews! It's
greatly appreciated. =)
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For each remaining year of her education at
the elementary school at the Mugen Gakuen
Academy, a chauffeur drove Hotaru to and fro
the gated school entrances. The driver made
sure his temporary ward arrived safely at
the school before turning the steering wheel
around again to head back to the mansion
where Hotaru and her father resided. When she
had stayed solely at home in a cocoon-like
existence, home-schooled, cared for, and
wrapped up in her father's presence, she felt
loved.
Yet, still she knew that something
indefinable was missing while she remained at
home. She was gratified by the unconditional
love and companionship her father gave her,
and she returned it wholeheartedly. The
medical care he provided, the tenderness that
went along with everything that he said,
everything that he did, was evidence enough
for the affection of a father for his
daughter. Hotaru never questioned that, but
she did doubt the existence that she carried
on after the accident - she did, after all,
remember what the carefree life was like
before the crippling incident. She did
remember what it was like to celebrate a
third birthday surrounded with friends from
the day care, to blow the candle on the cake
while two dozen of her friends sat around her
laughing and cheering and clapping with glee.
Was life supposed to be this way now -
so alone? So... what was the word? Empty?
No, she instinctively knew the answer to her
rhetorical question.
No one was supposed to live her life behind
the confines of walls.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
It was only when she stepped into the
classroom that she feel the distinctive,
irrefutable sense of exclusion, that she
was the target of stern ostracism - whether
it was deserved or not. It was not the vague
sense of abnormality she perceived at the
mansion. No, instead, the sense was much
harsher, more stringent. When Hotaru opened
the doors to the homeroom class she was
assigned to, her classmates turned in her
direction, concentrating their sight on this
undeniably lovely girl, one they identified
as someone their age, or a bit younger.
Seven, perhaps? She was certainly a small
thing, with a slim figure that made her seem
even shorter than her actual height. Her
dark, glittering eyes - were they lavender?
The students wondered - were too large for
the frame of her little face. The nose was
small, as well, upturned but not so much
so as for others to consider her haughty.
Straighthair, cut at a perfect angle,
covered her forehead, and if she were to
look at someone tall with her head bent,
her eyes would barely peek out from under
the cover of her bangs.
Such a timid creature, mouse-like except
for the fact that one could never really
compare her countenance with that of a
rodent. The students watched the ailing girl
enter the class and approach the teacher with
her schedule. But when the girl turned her
beautiful face toward the crowd, the
classmates immediately shied away from her,
turning away from Hotaru's diffident smile.
Intuitively, the students discerned the
unnamed illness that made this new girl's
fingers tremor slightly and the paleness of
her skin tone that was heightened in
intensity by the midnight shade of her hair.
Was that fair complexion a little too perfect
for the normal human being? That hair
stylized a little too straightly? Those
fingers trembling a little too... metrically?
A small tumult rose among the students as they
whispered to each other.
Oh my God, Becky! Look at that skin! It is so
white!
She must be one of those gothic type girls
that I read about in my sis's mag! Ugh!
It is so gross how pale she is!
It's like she's some... I don't know,
vampire or something. She's got that gleam
in her eye, doesn't she?
Maybe she's an albino, she's got the skin for
it. But you're right about those eyes. Man...
they're creepy to look at!
It looks like those eyes are staring straight
past us without seeing us!
The whispers were inaudible to the teacher
Who had asked her to introduce herself to
the class after looking the new girl up and
down briefly and glancing at the schedule.
Of course, Hotaru heard them, picking up the
words as clearly as if they were spoken
directly to her face. Indignation hit its
target in her mind, but she refused to let
it show on her face. Why, these impudent,
pathetic third graders, so easily persuaded
by public opinion and first impressions!
She hadn't even uttered a word before they
deemed her the pariah of the classroom, and
after only one look too! What? Was it just
because she was a little too pale for them?
Too frail to touch? She wiped the smile off
her face, and directed her eyes forward,
paying no heed to the uniformed figures
that sat in the columns of chairs. Ignore
them, she declared. Stare straight past
them without seeing them.
They were of no consequence.
Hotaru quickly presented herself as a new
student to the Mugen Gakuen Academy before
the teacher and the class, and then
proceeded to smoothly walk to the seat
that the teacher had pointed out to her.
Did she gain some sort of newfound
confidence after she introduced herself?
Some sort of inner will, perhaps, drove her
to stand up to the shunning glares of her
classmates.
All eyes were focused on her as she
approached the empty desk near the window,
and a silence covered the class as all the
voices drowned out quickly. Hotaru ignored
the eyes and immersed herself in the
silence. After seating herself, she turned
her head towards the front of the classroom
and focused on what the teacher had to
announce for the new school year, all the
while reminding herself: Maintain that
cold-shoulder, keep up that indifference,
they see nothing except the exterior.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
AN: Blame a certain someone who will
remain nameless for the reference
to the Sir Mixalot song. ^^;