"Just Average"
Sakura's POV
.:..:..
After a week, I was quite used to no longer portraying the fake Sakura Kinomoto.
I wasn't a chameleon changing colours constantly; but more like one staying in one place, one colour, instead.
And as I sat on the picnic table by myself, binder and highlighter in hand, my rectangular framed glasses on my face, and enjoying the warmth of the sun, I truly felt like the real Sakura Kinomoto.
I looked around at the crowded tables and almost immediately spotted the new fake Sakura Kinomoto; Monaichii Mustokai, who leaned against Togai and smiled disgustingly at me as she took a bit from her garden salad...and I just smiled back.
They were all absorbed in each other's lives, conversations, and most of all, company.
Now, I was absorbing the sun's.
I was finally free to be me.
The real Sakura Kinomoto loved English literature, would rather stand out and enjoy everything than be pushed back, and longed for a happy ending.
After much thought, I knew who I was.
I supposed I was a chameleon before, forever changing and never finding my actual, destined colour. But now I knew it was all too true.
No one recognized me, and many would pass by and ask, "Are you new here?". I would just smile and reply, "Maybe." They would never guess that it was the fake. They could never see pass that exterior if they tried.
But somehow, I had changed so drastically in only a week's time that everyone swore I was a different person altogether; all of whom just assumed that was true.
I set down my binder on the table as I took a look around at all of the cliques, continuing to chat. I was no longer part of their groups.
As I sat on the picnic table by myself, I was indefinitely alone.
And I liked it.
I leaned back as I closed my eyes, allowing the cool breeze to pass through my hair and blow through the layers. The heat from the sun felt so soothing on my eyes, combined with the brisk feeling of the wind.
I finally opened my eyes and looked to find my notes beginning to rip out as the wind rapidly increased and became more violent, and the clouds overhead began to form together as rain began to pour.
I got up from my position at the picnic table and ran towards the yard to pick up the lost papers, but I could barely see because of the droplets, falling down at an incredible speed like the tears from my eyes had fell down only a week ago.
My highlighted and conditioned hair was now a drenched mess, and my white blazer was soaked. I felt myself begin to tremble as I looked around, wondering if anyone was even near.
From my vision, all I could see was my classmates dashing for the school building, in hopes of escaping the poor weather that was now occurring.
I turned around slightly as I parted my hair and looked upwards.
There was a hand outstreched with my fallen notes placed in them, gesturing towards me.
I smiled as I recognized who I had only known as the one from the hallway.
His now matted, formerly gelled hair was like mine as well; soaked. His clothes were the same, and his jeans appeared as if they could wear out any second.
I slowly retrieved the papers and glanced down at the mess the rain had caused.
I saw him begin to walk away, and soon he was out of sight; headed for the indoors, too.
As I held the smudged, dripping ink notes, I noticed that someone finally saw through me.