Chapter Four

One Day Down...God I Want to Kill Myself

"I'll give you a winter prediction: It's gonna be cold, it's gonna be grey, and it's gonna last the rest of your life." – Phil Connors, Groundhog Day

Why the hell did I agree to this stupid idea anyways?! Seriously, how am I gonna get through an entire semester without having my cover blown?! Someone's gonna find out, some way, some how! Dammit!

Ichigo swung the book bag down on the floor with a heavy thud before sitting down cross-legged in a huff, arms crossing to further show the irritable disposition radiating out from the teen. It was then that the orange-haired first year seemed to finally flip out as he scrambled to yank off his uniform jacket, tie, and crisp white dress shirt. There was a flurry of discarded clothing before Ichigo managed to force a calmer intake of breath, hands held out as if to ease away the stress. Without the upper pieces to the uniform, Ichigo was left sitting in the middle of the living room in a tank top and black slacks. Wrapped about the tank top, primarily concentrated on the upper chest, was a four inch wide Ace bandage that was normally used by athletes to wrap sprains or give needed support. However, the Ace bandage wrapped about Eniwa Ichigo wasn't for a sprain, but in some sense it was being used for support.

It was the only way to help further disguise the cross-dressing cousin and push the appearance of a teen boy, and it was a painful method in her opinion. Eniwa Ichigo, fifteen years old, first year in high school, had just spent the first day of school parading around as a boy. It was all for a good cause, but that moment, Ichigo was beginning to regret agreeing to the idea in the first place. High school was tough enough to get through without the added stress of being found out as a cross-dresser and possibly getting your cousin expelled from one of the country's most prestigious schools. I'm a glutton for punishment, both physical and mental. Ichigo sighed mournfully as she turned over on to her side, arms outstretched above her head.

If today had been any indication, tomorrow was going to be just as worse if not magnified ten fold thanks to a duo of classmates who seemed hellbent on making her life miserable at Ouran. "I don't know what hurts more, being surrounded by an entire school full of good looking and smart guys, or being picked on and teased by a school full of good looking and smart guys." Ichigo muttered to herself.

Before she could even start to answer her own question, the phone rang from its corner in the room, prompting Ichigo to scramble up from her place on the floor and snatch the cordless receiver up off its hook. "Hai, mushi mushi?"

"Ah, Ichigo-neechan! You're home from school already?" Haruhi's voice floated over across the line, the slight sound of surprise tinting his words.

Lifting a brow in response to the question, and already recognizing the voice of her cousin, Ichigo held a slightly puckered look on her face. "Uh, yeah, why wouldn't I be?"

"Oh, no, I didn't mean it that way." Haruhi stammered. "I thought maybe you would have stuck around Ouran to get a better feel for the place or something."

This caused a rather sour look to scribble its way across Ichigo's face. "Trust me, I got a good enough feel of Ouran while I was in school. I don't think it would have been necessary to stick around afterwards."

Haruhi chuckled sheepishly from the other end. "Yeah I guess you're right. So who's teaching 1-A?"

"Hiyama Ryuuga." She replied. Taking a seat on the floor, Ichigo leaned back against the wall of the room, free arm draping across her lap as she stared off across the small living space. "He seems like a nice enough guy, but I suppose that could change over the semester. Likes to talk a lot too." A smirk pulled at the corner of her mouth while she scratched at the tip of her nose. "How's oyaji doing?"

"He's fine. Complains and whines a lot since he can't get up and do things or go out." Somewhere in the distant background there was a loud shout of some kind that sounded like a question, and it caused Ichigo's brow to furrow a bit as she tried to identify what had been said. However, "Yes, it's her!...No you can't talk to her right now...because I am!...I said no!"

For a moment Ichigo could have sworn she heard some sort of scuffle, the shouts and cursing of two individual voices before the distinct click of anther line picking up appeared.

"Ah-ha, KONNICHIWA ICHIGO-CHAN!"

The loud greeting caused a huge strain on the proper volume code and sent a screeching electrical fuzz over the line, and nearly blew Ichigo's ear out had it not been for the fact that she held the phone as far away from her ear as possible at the right time. A look of both fear and irritation consumed Ichigo's face after the end of the unnecessarily loud greeting, and in response, Ichigo held the phone in the same she would have her uncle had he been there. "WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?! ARE YOU TRYING DAMAGE MY HEARING?!"

"Wah, Ichigo-chan is so cruel to her uncle!" Fujioka Ryoji wailed on his end of the phone line like some small child who had just been scolded. "I'm all the way in Kyoto, injured with my dear son taking care of me, and all you can do is yell at me for expressing my joy in hearing your voice?"

Ichigo scowled. "Don't try and turn this around on me!" She shot back while finally holding the phone to her ear again. "What happened to Haruhi?"

"I'm still here." Haruhi's voice reappeared on the line, although now it was brimming with subdued irritation. "Ichigo, I never did ask you how the first day was."

For a second Ichigo stiffened, her face contorting to a choked look before started muttering to stall time as her brain searched for a way to explain the first day without making it sound as though she regretted helping Haruhi out. That's the last thing I want to do to him. "Eh, uh, well it was different." Ichigo stated slowly. "I think my hair attracted more attention than I wanted though."

"Ah yes, your dear mother's trademark. It's such a shame you had to cut it, but all for a good cause of course! Your mother would be proud Ichigo-chan!" Ryoji announced in a more than necessary chipper manner.

"I hope no one gave you a hard time because of your hair neechan." The bothered worry was clearly evident in Haruhi's voice as he spoke, prompting a rather decent smile to appear on Ichigo's lips. "Ichigo, I really do appreciate what you're doing for me."

Exhaling a quiet sigh, Ichigo rubbed at the middle of her forehead. "Forget it. You deserve the chance to go to Ouran, so whatever I can do to help you, you know I'm there." She cringed at the sore reminder her aching chest decide to poke her with at that moment. "Even if it means being a bit uncomfortable during the day." She rubbed at the spot on the side of her ribs while speaking.

"Eh?! What's uncomfortable?!" Ryoji nearly exploded again, but was immediately shouted down by Haruhi before he could raise his voice any further.

"Otosan! Leave Ichigo alone!" Haruhi snapped before the sound of another scuffle ensued and the click of the second line being cut off from the conversation entered the conversation. After a short pause there was the sudden outburst of whining in the background before Haruhi's voice spoke up again. "Sorry neechan, but I need to go start dinner before obachan gets home from work. I'll call you tonight if you want."

She shook her head even though he couldn't see it. "No don't worry about it. I have a bit of paperwork to fill out for Hiyama-sensei." She replied while shooting a rather unhappy look towards her tossed book bag. "I'll call you tomorrow when I get home from school, okay?"

Haruhi sighed. "Okay. Ichigo, take care of yourself. I don't know what I'd do without you."

Ichigo snorted. "I'm sure you would do just as fine without me. But you're welcome." Her mouth pulled through a grin as she spoke.

Saying their quick good-byes, Ichigo making sure that she said good-bye to her uncle or else she wouldn't hear the last of it. Hanging up, Ichigo set the cordless phone back in its cradle and exhaled a tired sigh while tipping her head backwards to rest against the wall. Her amber colored gaze stared up at the ceiling overhead. She cared a lot about her cousin, would do anything she could for him. Dear mother in heaven, what am I going to do?