I thought this would interest you:

I'm a PANTSER! What is that? A pantser writes without forethought to where the plot is going--sort of by the seat of her pants method. I write with passion about what inspires me at the moment, and I hopefully have a strong voice. I don't worry about writers' block–I'm a different story. I've got more story seeds than a hive has bees. When I write, it's in disjointed segments. I may write sequentially or in flashes of inspiration, where I connect all my flashes later. My revision process might take several passes, because I really have to whip that first draft into a more marketable shape. My readers either love me, or hate me.

Interesting, no?

Disclaimer: Refer to Chapter 1: Coming Back. The monologue used in this chapter and the next is an excerpt from the book Les Miserables and is most likely copyrighted under his name. I'm notsure. But, I don't own the monologue.

Chapter 6

"Oi, Sana!"

Sana rolled over in her bed, trying to ignore Josh's call.

"Sana!"

Sana pulled a pillow over her head and pressed it over her ears.

"Sana!"

Sana's warm bedding and pillow were pulled off of her. She could hear Josh sigh, frustrated, when she still didn't get up.

Josh announced, "Sana, you have school! Do you wanna be late?"

"Just a few more minutes, Josh; then I'll get up." Sana mumbled groggily. She snuggled into her mattress.

"Zenzen, Sana! Iie! Get up now! You still have to get ready and go to school, and you only have twenty minutes left!"

Sana shrieked and jumped out of bed, now fully awake. Running to her dresser, she began to pull out her uniform and jerk it on. Once done, she picked up her hairbrush and yanked it through her knotted hair.

"Why didn't you wake me up sooner?" she yelled at him. She ran out her bedroom door, to the kitchen, grabbed a piece of toast, and quickly ate it. After, she ran to the restroom and brushed her teeth, now taking her time to make sure she brushed them well.

Josh followed, replying, "Well, I tried, demo . . . you still wouldn't wake up! I've been trying for an hour!"

Sana rolled her eyes, exited the restroom, and quickly seized her backpack. "Hai, hai, Josh. What time is it?"

"7:13."

"Oh no! I only have twelve minutes left!" She ran to the doorway, slipped on her shoes, and then ran out the door.

Josh stared after her, then chuckled. She actually believed me. He looked at the clock, which read, in neon green, 6:14. Well, at least she'll be really early today. For once. Josh walked around the kitchen, pulling out ingredients, and started to cook breakfast for him and Miwa.

Sana ran as fast as she could to the school, only stopping once she entered the school's courtyard. Breathing heavily, she looked around her – no other students were there. Fearing that she may be late – something she'd hoped to avoid by running to school – she checked the clock placed upon the front of the school, only to see that it read, roughly, 6:20. Frowning – the corners of her mouth pointed sharply downward – Sana's mood instantly changed from anxious and worried about being late, to angry and annoyed that Josh had deceived her. If she had still been immature enough for such actions, she would've taken out her old mallet and whacked him on the head when she came home. Stomping her way through the doors to the school – and then through the halls and up the stairs – she arrived at her class.

Knowing that it wouldn't do any good to be mad – and that in being so would draw attention to herself – she swallowed up her emotions of ire and masked her face with a smile and glittering eyes – eyes that didn't quite conceal. As Lyssa always said, "The eyes are the gateways to a person's soul. If you look into someone's eyes, you see every emotion they're feeling – every single one – no matter how hard they try to hide it." Though she had been an actress, and was extremely well practiced in the art of masking her thoughts – though it never had seemed to work with Hayama – sometimes, Sana guessed, it was just too hard to hold in everything you were feeling for the sake of others, which she seemed to be doing often, now that she'd returned.

Sighing to herself, Sana noted that she was apparently the only one in her class that was there at that moment, so she slowly walked over to her desk and sat down, setting her backpack down. Resting her head on her arms which were on the desk, Sana lightly dozed and thought of what a simplistic lifestyle she could've had, had she not decided to come to Japan. Why had she, anyway? It was a question Sana could not think of an answer to, no matter how much she focused on it. The closest Sana could get was that she wanted Miwa to see where she had been raised – but that was the closest Sana could get.

Again, Sana sighed. That question didn't need answering, not now at least. Coming out of her daze, she raised her head and, groping through her backpack, searched for her book – October Sky, by Homer Hickam, Jr. She'd found it at a local bookstore in Aliso Viejo, and when she'd read the back cover and realized she knew this story from the movie version, she knew she just had to have it. The movie based off of it was so amazing, in her opinion, that the original autobiography had to be even better. Though she'd had the book for quite some time, she had only started it a few days ago since she'd been unable to find the time needed to read more of it. Currently she was in the fifth chapter, which wasn't very far. Maybe it was all the scientific talk in it that made it so confusing.

Opening the hardcover book gently, she leafed through the pages of it until she came to the page where she had stopped before. It was the part where 'Sonny' was going to ask Dorothy Plunk out on a date.

As she read on about the author's memories and experiences, she slouched and leaned over the desk. It was a habit of hers she wasn't very proud of, but it couldn't be helped she thought as she raised a hand to rest her head on and turned the page with the other.

Reading about the exploits of Homer Hickam, Jr. made everything look so easy in the long run, when it really wasn't, Sana thought ruefully. Sure, the author had had to deal with bullying from many people, the humiliation of his first rocket blowing up, and the nervousness he got in the pit of his stomach when he talked to Dorothy Plunk, but that was nothing compared to what others had gone through, and she included herself in that group for some reason.

Placing her book back in her backpack, she zipped it up and glanced at the classroom clock, which was difficult to see. The teacher had situated in a discreet place so that the students wouldn't be able to see what time it was and get distracted from the lesson, as they often tended to do.

7:03.

Twenty-seven minutes until school starts, Sana thought, letting out a bored sigh. There really was nothing to do before school these days. Great. Like that made life any more "exciting." If an "exciting" life meant that you were cursed by the demon lord to be bored at school, stressed at home, and jittery around your friends. Yeah, real exciting. Sana sighed, realizing how much of a pessimistic bore she was becoming lately when she was all alone.

Unexpectedly, the door opened, and to Sana's surprise and fear, it was Hayama that was coming through the door. This cannot be happening, she thought in horror. She stared as Hayama walked tiredly to his seat that was oh-so-conveniently right in front of her. Her nervousness dissipated when her other classmates began walking in. Arigatou, Kami-sama. Now she didn't have to be alone with Hayama.

--->--->--->

Hayama keeled over in his desk as he sat down. This morning had probably been his worst one yet. Not only had his alarm failed to go off – apparently he had forgotten to set it – he had stayed up almost all night, thinking about why the new girl, Kita-something, was always acting so strange when she was around him, Matsui, Tsuyoshi, or Sugita.

The fact that he was actually thinking about some girl instead of something like karate – even though he couldn't stand thinking about it now, after what had happened at the tournament – had made him repeatedly frustrate himself, and he hadn't been able to find a way to vent it until he, as expected, got into a fight with his sister Natsumi when he entered the kitchen, still not dressed in his uniform. She had somehow had the last word as she flung him out the front door almost half-naked, locked all the doors that lead outside, and left him to climb in through the window and stumble up into his room, frozen.

Then, when he had decided he would just ditch school today – if his morning was already this bad, who knew what school would be like – his sorry little excuse for a sister had also decided to give him a ride. Which basically meant she dragged him out the door, forced him into the car, and watched him until he entered the building – at which point other students had seen him, meaning that if he left it would eventually get back to the principal, and if he got in trouble the sensei at the karate dojo would make him sit out for practice that day. Funny how the world works.

He noticed the sensei enter the classroom, and realized that the bell must've rung while he was dozing. Putting that morning behind him, he focused on the stupid announcements sounding over the P.A. system, which had been fixed. It was a miracle he was paying attention, considering that he used this time to think about what he was going to do when he got home that day. Usually, since his sister and his dad weren't normally home at that time, he would either train, watch TV, or sleep. It was common for him not to do his homework until later that night when his family was watching some sappy teen movie and he was alone and in his room.

"And finally on today's announcements," the girl on the intercom said, "Mihara-sensei has decided that the auditions for Les Miserables will be held tomorrow." Hayama heard chatter immediately erupt around him. "If you would like to watch, please go to the auditorium after school. And Mihara-sensei would also like to mention that if you go, you need to be respectful and quiet while each person auditions. Thank you." Be polite and respectful while watching people make fun of themselves? Like that would happen. Maybe he should attend the stupid thing. After all, the girl was auditioning, and if he watched her screw up, he could continuously make fun of her. Nah. That was a stupid, jackass thing to do. Not everyone could act like Kur–. He stopped immediately, frustrated.

"And now, the principal has requested that we perform the national anthem today. Please begin." Over the intercom she began chanting in unison with the class, including Hayama, though he did so angrily,

"Kimigayo wa

Chiyo ni yachiyo ni

Sazareishi no

Iwao to narite

Koke no musu made."

As soon as the song was finished being performed, the teacher said, "Okay. The bell's about to ring, so you may begin to–"

Hayama was out the door before the man finished the sentence.

--->--->--->

The next day, after the final bell, Sana approached the auditorium, and, surprisingly, she was nervous about how she would do. Then she frowned. Why did she want to do so well when she didn't want to go back into acting? If she was correct, at school-funded plays there were always agents. In addition, Rei and Misako would probably be there to watch, not to mention all her friends, Josh, and Miwa.

That was probably it. Not only would her friends be at the play, except for probably Hayama, they would also be at the audition. She didn't want to make a fool of herself in front of them or the other students. Yes, that was the reason she was so jumpy.

Entering the auditorium, she blanched at the amount of students the auditions had turned up. Looking around, she saw Fuka, Aya, and Tsuyoshi had shown up to cheer her on. But no Hayama. It was almost a disappointment. On wobbly knees, she walked to the three.

"Oi, Sachiko-chan!" Fuka greeted.

"Oi."

"I can' wait for ya to audition, girl. You're gonna do great!" That one comment instantly lifted Sana's confidence, and she smiled back at her friend. "Thanks."

"Yeah, Sachiko-chan," Tsuyoshi agreed, "you'll do awesome." He put his arm around Aya's shoulders and asked, "Who are you trying out for again?"

"Hm? Oh. Fantine."

Aya's brow creased. "Why?" she asked. "I thought you'd want to play Cosette, or Eponine. Why Fantine?"

Sana replied, "Well, I was going to try out for Eponine – I don't really like Cosette; she's too prissy– but then I decided on Fantine. She's a great character. You know, willing to sell her body, hair, and locket so her child will be taken care of by the Innkeeper man and his wife. And then when she dies, Valjean is willing to – well, I shouldn't tell you." The threenodded their heads.

"All right," Mihara-sensei said, and everyone hushed one another to hear her, "I'll be starting the auditions in two hours." Groans erupted from the students. "Yes, I'm sorry for the wait, but because I just got all the monologues, I have to allow you time to memorize them." Murmurs of understanding began sweeping through the listeners. "Right now, I'll be giving you the monologue to perform during the audition. So. When I call you to the front, please state what part you will be auditioning for so I can give you the correct monologue." She began calling off names, then, "Kitahoshi Sachiko."

Trembling, Sana walked to the front. Mihara-sensei asked, "Who will you be auditioning for?" Sana's reply came with little hesitance, "Fantine."

"Okay." Mihara-sensei looked through the folders and produced the monologue. "Here you go. Will you be auditioning for anyone else?"

"No, thanks." She took the monologue and walked back to her friends.

As she got there, they started exclaiming, "Let me see, let me see." She handed them the xerox copy, and they began trifling through it. Aya began reading, "'Fantine: Monsieur Javert, I beseech your mercy. I assure you that I was not in the wrong. If you had seen the beginning, you would have seen. That gentleman, whom I do not know, put snow in my back. Has any one the right to put snow down our backs when we are walking along peaceably, and doing no harm to any one? I did not speak to him. It was at that moment that he put the snow down my back. Monsieur Javert, good Monsieur Inspector! is there not some person here who saw it and can tell you that this is quite true? I did wrong to spoil that gentleman's hat. Do me the favor to-day, for this once, Monsieur Javert. You know that in prison one can earn only seven sous a day; I must pay one hundred francs, or my little girl will be sent to me. Oh, my God! I cannot have her with me. Oh, my Cosette! what will become of her, poor creature? Don't put me in prison! Have pity on me, Monsieur Javert! Mercy!' This has had lots of lines cut out of it, hasn't it?"

"Hai. Now, can you give it back to me so that I can memorize it and practice?" Sana held her hand out toward Aya expectantly. Regretfully, Aya placed the xerox copy in Sana's hand. Sana immediately began to skim through it, adding notes of emphasis and emotion throughout it in her mind. Soon, it was completely memorized and she was ready to go.

Bored, she waited for the remaining time to be over. After what seemed like forever, Mihara-sensei finally announced, "Okay. It's time for auditions to begin. We'll go in order of character appearance. So first up, Jean Valjean auditions. Please line up on the side of the room. Asano, you go first."

Over the next twenty minutes, the Jean Valjean auditions were over, and the Javert hopefuls went up next. Within half an hour, they were over.

"All right," Mihara-sensei said, "now's the Fantine audition. I expect the audience to be as courteous as you were for the two previous auditions. Line up now, kudasai."

Fuka looked at Sana. "It's your turn, girl!" she whispered excitedly. "Knock 'em dead." Aya and Tsuyoshi joined in with choruses of 'go for it' and 'you can do it!'

Her breathing erratic, Sana walked to the line of seven girls and stood behind them. One by one, each girl went up and performed their monologue. One of them, Nakamura Suzuno, was so gifted, even Sana was awed by her talent.

"Kitahoshi Sachiko," Mihara-sensei called.

Gulping, Sana walked to the front of the auditorium's stage. Looking at the audience, she started to flush. Then something caught her eye.

"Okay. You may begin."

Hayama was standing in the very back, watching her with scrutinizing eyes.

Glossary of Translations:

The national anthem translates to

'May the reign of the Emperor

continue for a thousand, nay, eight thousand generations

and for the eternity that it takes

for small pebbles to grow into a great rock

and become covered with moss.'

kudasai – please. Polite form.