Title: She was a wallflower

Pairing: JouAnzu, JouMai, SetoAnzu

Summary: Anzu, a notebook, and the resulting snark!fest.

Notes: Last chapter was chock-full of cultural references I forgot to clarify so here they are:

(1) In Japan, students typically have to change into slippers to wear in school and so they have lockers for the purpose of putting their outdoors shoes in. Some common pranks are to take out the target's shoes (the lockers don't have locks) and cut holes in them a la Hana Yori Dango a.k.a. Boys Over Flowers a.k.a. Meteor Garden.

(2) In Japan also, students don't move from class to class; the teachers do. Hence Orimoto-sensei, at the end of the period, went out to be replaced by Sakuya-sensei.

(3) Miho is the girl with a yellow ribbon in her purple hair in Season One (or Zero) of Yuugiou. Honda had a crush on her in that show.

(4) On Jounouchi's back-story: when he was young, his parents divorced with his mother taking Shizuka and he going to his father. Jounouchi's father is revealed in the manga to be an abusive drunk. One of the conjectures online on why his mother didn't take Jounouchi was because she was afraid he would turn out like his dad. I included that in here plus my addition that Jounouchi resembles his father to make his mother's fear more substantial.

(5) Students coming from different schools or from another level of education (say, middle school vs. high school) are distinguished by their uniforms, which is why Jounouchi recognizes Anzu as a middle school student in their meeting.

Okay, if I got anything wrong, please tell me! I want to be as accurate as possible! And please review!

Also for this chapter:

(6) "First-year" in middle school is equivalent to 6th grade, or the first year of middle school.

(7) 100 yen equals a US dollar in this story though in reality, it is equivalent to around 90 cents. But let's not make things complicated.


She was a wallflower

Chapter Two: She meets him


Dear Diary That was Given to Me by Fujioka-san on Thursday,

Well.

What am I supposed to do with this?

Wait – I can doodle in the margins…

(All over the page were drawn purple hearts splitting in two. On the line preceding the entry's last sentence, she had also drawn a snoring stick figure. The Zs' were quite large.)

This is boring.

Mazaki Anzu, end day one

(Segue)

Dear Diary/Journal/Book to Vent Thoughts into,

I asked Fujioka-san about the notebook today and she answered "Well, Mazaki-san, whenever you find you have problems you want to discuss with me but I'm not there, you can write them in this notebook." I said, "Wait, isn't it your job to help me?" and she did that thing when her eyebrows came together and her lips became one thin line. "Mazaki-san, this is only a supplement to our sessions. It will not replace the guidance I give you." Uh-huh. If I need a notebook to help solve my "problems" as okaa-san put it, I could just buy one for less than 70 yen in the corner store instead of paying up 10000 yen for an hour and a half with Fujioka-san every Monday and Thursday. We do not ooze money, you know.

At least she gave a nice purple pen along with this.

Mazaki Anzu, end day two

(Segue)

Dear Supplement to Fujioka-san's Therapy Sessions,

I don't see Fujioka-san until Thursday so I have to stew over my "issues" by myself. I might as well "reevaluate" (Fujioka-san loves this word to death XD) my problems here and see if I reach any new conclusions about myself.

What okaa-san said: I am a social misfit. I do not socialize with people at all. I don't try to fit in with them and they don't seem to want me to fit in with them. She thinks it has something to do with me.

Interesting. Okaa-san actually took some time off her so-called "busy" schedule just so she could accuse me of having "serious issues." What okaa-san needs to do is stop listening to American 70s' music. Though I do like the song Dancing Queen… (Is that from the 70s'? I'm not really sure.)

Moving on.

What otou-san said: I have self-esteem issues. I am too shy for my own good so I need to open up more. Experience life to the max. And yes, he blames the problem on me, too.

Otou-san. Stop it with the American 90s' car slogans, please. You're only slightly better than okaa-san with the phrasing.

So.

I laid it all out for you, journal (I'm referring to a notebook as if it's a person or something, lol). Work your wonderful magic and correct me.

I'm waiting…

Still waiting…

Getting impatient here…

Forget it. This is pointless. Why am I doing this anyway?

Mazaki Anzu, end day three

(Segue)

Dear Therapy Journal,

I just turned thirteen a few days ago on August 18th. According to Fujioka-san, birthdays are great days for reflection and why aren't I using the notebook more (she checks it like homework – isn't that an invasion of privacy?). But I don't really want to see her glare again so I might as well write something (yes, Fujioka-san, you are one scary old woman).

As per otou-san's orders I asked my classmates if they wanted to go to my birthday party. These were some of their reactions:

"Who are you?"

"A-Ah, I have to, er, do the laundry that day! Yeah, my house is filled with dirty clothes! Need to wash them all, heh. Sorry."

A group of girls stared me down and turned away.

The jocks all shouted "NO!" at me as a unit.

Bakura-kun, the only nice person in the class, said that his archaeologist father was coming home that day from Egypt and that they were going to go the amusement park. Having been to his house before for a group project (every wall was filled with some sort of ancient artifact), I believed him.

When I reported all this to otou-san he looked at me weirdly and said, "What kind of vibes are you giving out?"

XD Okaa-san has gotten to him at last.

So I celebrated my birthday with my parents. Just like every year.

Reflection: I am a girl who repels people. And I am filled with evil vibes.

Mazaki Anzu, end day seven

P.S. The way I end my entries is that I count the days from when I first wrote in the notebook. I skipped days four to six and I wrote today, making it day seven.

Why am I writing this…?

(Segue)

Dear Diary (Fujioka-san says my dears don't have to be so "elaborate" and detailed, but it's fun),

I'm writing this at school. It's recess now and nobody uses the swings anymore so I guess I'm safe from nosy people.

I look up every now and then to look at everybody else. Some girls are holding a private meeting or something in the jungle gym and have even posted guards to look out for intruders. (Jeez, I'm looking at the makings of a cult.) The soccer field is filled with sweaty boys running around. A basketball rattles into one of their fences and the soccer boys are now yelling at the basketball boys. (What happened to all the girls? Oh yeah, jungle gym meeting.)

I realize I'm a prime suspect for bullying just for being anywhere near the swings. A first-year became an outcast just for accidentally wandering in here. Apparently, once you get to middle school the swings immediately become "baby" things. I don't see why the same logic isn't applied to the jungle gym but I guess the spaces inside it has made it popular for junior cult meetings and making out. Which are definitely adult uses.

And as I'm sitting here, scribbling into this notebook, I also make some other realizations.

One: I haven't been busted yet for being near the swings even though I've been here for at least almost half the period.

Two: The journal writing hasn't got anybody staring at me in wonder though it should.

Three: Okaa-san had forgotten my bento again.

In short…

Nobody cares about me.

Mazaki Anzu, end day twelve

(Segue)

Dear Stupid Piece of Crap that is Making My Life Miserable even though I'm still writing in it,

I am a wallflower.

It's not anything I'm doing, or even the things I'm not doing. I fade into the background like a ghost and I just stay there.

I think I've always known this. I look at my behavior and the things I'm doing and I know I'm not being mean or anything – anything but that – and I pick up things for people when they drop them, say my thank yous and you welcomes, take part in things during recess – I was actually in one of the cult meetings one time, you know – just to be noticed.

But I tried to deny it. Because, isn't it sad when you're lonely not through any fault of yours but because you're just plain forgettable to people?

And stupid me had to open up a can of worms by "reevaluating my problems" and getting introspective in this notebook.

I blame Fujioka-san.

Mazaki Anzu, end day fifteen

P.S. When Fujioka-san read the last entry, she clapped me on the back for having made an important revelation about myself. Great.

(Segue)

Dear Notebook of a Wallflower,

Okaa-san and otou-san left on their "honeymoon of renewal." They didn't even tell me about it – just scribbled a few things on a post-it note and stuck it on the refrigerator door. They didn't even say when they'd get back and this is already their fifth honeymoon renewal thing. And okaa-san forgot to make my bento. Again.

At least otou-san was thoughtful enough to leave me an emergency credit card this time. Last time – the third honeymoon, I think – they didn't leave any money behind and I had to go through their bedroom to find money for food. And guess where the money was: under okaa-san's "toys" in the drawer. Ugh.

I have to be really pathetic if even my parents forget I exist sometimes.

But they're good people. Really. After all, they wouldn't have sent me to the therapist if they didn't care, right?

I'm not convincing myself at all.

Mazaki Anzu, end day twenty

P.S. Won't be seeing Fujioka-san for a while. She only accepts cash. It was nice talking to her, too. Should I continue writing in this even then?

Nah.

(She was a wallflower)

She normally didn't stay after school but she did, helping the one janitor in the school scrub down the first floor after some of the first-years had thrown food at each other during a fight. Some of the drink spilled had been milk so she had to hold her nose from the smell of it going bad and the janitor accidentally splashed water onto her socks at one point; said it was because he didn't notice her spraying down the window right in front of him.

Anzu was already used to those kinds of comments so she let him slide. Anyway, the old janitor was the closest to kind Ryou she could get. Though even Ryou turned distant these days after his father had given him the strange golden ring that now adorned his neck. Sometimes she suspected he grew bat's wings on his crown of soft white hair when nobody was looking, but that was crazy.

It was six and her arms were sore from wringing the washcloth one too many times. Pushing open the large front doors, Anzu was immediately bathed in sunset. On a whim, she took out her arm and tried to keep track of the gradations of pinks into oranges into reds into pinks on her sleeve but got dizzy after a while. She skipped the stairs down onto the pavement, then ran around the back to the park.

"Honey! Otou-san and I are going to the Bahamas for our fifth honeymoon of renewal! I know that you're a responsible daughter from all the other honeymoons so just do what you usually do when we're not around. Otou-san also left you a credit card for food, so yeah. Well, bye darling!"

Anzu remembered a manga where the heroine called herself a super-weed, proclaiming that not even herbicide could get her down. She didn't know why she was thinking this right now, but wouldn't it be nice if she could be compared to a garden nuisance? Especially when she was sick of the dark lonely spaces in the house when she got home from school and the annoying ding of the front door bell that signaled the arrival of the local take-out boy with her oily dinner. A lot of people would kill to be in her position – no parents, cool, party your ass off – but the silences made her want to cry. A super-weed didn't have the need to spray out water.

The seat of the swing squeaked beneath her and she shook the chains a bit to steady herself. So she'll be home late – who was there to care?

Then Anzu blinked.

His head was squashed against the fence that separated jungle gym from swings. His shirt was untucked and she didn't remember any high school in Domino that ever issued green uniforms. He had messy blond hair. A delinquent-looking character.

But whatever. This was a nice break from the mundane.

"Isn't it a bit late for the two of us to be here?"

When he laughed along with her, something bubbled and broke within Anzu. The delinquent understood where she was coming from after all.


A/N: Please review! I am aware that this fic is quite different from your normal romance (and my expositions are quite boring), but please bear with me. And yes, I am going through the original Yuugiou story line from the very beginning so you'll see this universe's version of the Duelist Kingdom and Battle City arcs, which I hope – when you guys get up to them – will be very interesting. And let me say this again: please review! It does a fanfiction writer a lot of good i.e. inspire her to write more chapters!

.: ShinakaStar :.