DISCLAIMER: Don't own One Piece (by Eiichiro Oda) or Melancholy of Haruki Suzumiya (by Tanigawa Nagaru)

NOTE: It won't be exactly like Melancholy of Haruki Suzumiya, but the basis of it. Also, Ace here will be 15, so he would take up a personality resembling a bit like his 10-year-old self.

I had registered to attend to a school that was around my home area, which I instantly regretted the moment I looked at the huge hill I had to climb over. Even during the spring, the sun was beating down on the poor students mercilessly, especially those who had to climb over this hill. Every time this thought rose to my head, I would get tired and depressed and wish that I could do something like laze around at home, but I had made a vow to myself that I would work harder in school…so up the hill I would go.

This really was depressing, though. It was the first day of school and I was already sick of it. More than that—totally unenthused for the new year, the new school, and the idea of becoming a high school student. You'd think that optimism would rub off of me like any other girl—a chance for a young maiden to spread her wings and take flight, to find her one true love, to discover all kinds of thrilling adventures…

Whatever. I guess I never got around to develop frivolous ideas—or maybe I was too busy grieving over the fact that I had a gargantuan hill to climb over.
What made this day even better was that all freshmen had to go to a mandatory orientation where we had to sit through the principal's monotonous speech for twenty minutes. I caught half of the words he said before drifting off.

When orientation was over, students were to head over to their homeroom. I was quick to find my class—classroom 1-5—and found my assigned seat there. Standing in the front was a lithe man with glasses and a stern-looking face. By the time the seats were filled, Kurahodal-sensei—as he introduced himself as—gave a brisk yet emphatic speech about what he didn't tolerated in class and what was to be expected. I was pretty sure that everyone got the memo that we were the unfortunate class to get the stickler for a teacher.

"Now I would like everyone to stand up, introduce oneself, and reveal what goal is to be achieved in this year," sensei said, folding his arms. "We'll start with you."
Every student more or less followed the same generic formula of introduction. After saying their name, they would either say they wanted to improve academically, make new friends, join a certain club, or hoped to have a good year. There was the occasional brave student who would venture outside of that mold, but the introduction didn't stick long enough in my head for me to remember.

Finally, it was my turn. To be honest, I was a bit nervous on making my first impression on my classmates, fearing that, with my rotten luck, I would mess up by stumbling over my words or bite my tongue. In my head, I quickly rehearsed my script before standing up. And when I presented myself, I found that there really wasn't anything to worry about. I just gave my name and said that I hoped to devote myself to my studies and have a good year. Just like how everyone else had done it.

I sat back down feeing relieved. You know that feeling when you finished something unpleasant yet necessary? Yeah, that feeling.

Then the person behind me stood up for his turn and said in a clear, deep voice, "My name is Portgas D. Ace."

Up to this point, I didn't bother turning around and facing him. It was going to be another typical introduction. Little did I know how dead wrong I was.
"Normal human beings do not interest me. If you are an alien, a monster, an esper, or anything paranormal, come see me at once."

Now that caught me off guard. Hearing this, there was no way that I couldn't turn around. I looked over my shoulder and saw a tall boy surveying the classroom with an intense gaze. His hair drifted to his shoulders as his frown marred his face. It might have been shocking to see this kind of guy make such an outrageous proclamation, but it just happened.

I was torn whether to remain silent or laugh. Maybe he was trying to be funny? Everyone else stared at him with wide eyes, and the atmosphere had gone from awkward to stifling. The teacher, on the other hand, maintained an indifferent demeanor. While everyone was stunned, Kurahodal-sensei cleared his voice loudly and signaled for the next student to make his introduction. And so…that was Portgas D. Ace.

After grabbing everyone's attention the first day, Portgas reverted into a silent and frowning student. Frowning must have been his default expression because he was always frowning.

I figured that Portgas must be someone special, in a way. Oh yes, he was special, all right. But by my miscalculations, I thought that he had the spotlight for this year's weirdo—in a peculiar-good-funny-odd-unique kind of way. But that definitely wasn't the case.

I found that there were some students in my school who had graduated from the same junior high as Portgas. And the chances of them being in the same class as me? I hadn't known initially, but I had come to after my first mistake. Of course, me being from a different junior high school meant that I hadn't known how to handle the delicate situation pertaining to Portgas, unlike some of my classmates who knew all about his quirks.

And, so, as a result, I had done something regrettable a few days after the first day of school.

You see, when Portgas would sit quietly in his seat, he would appear like a normal, good-looking guy. Besides, he seemed intriguing in that enigmatic sort of way, so I thought, "Why not?" I supposed that curiosity had gotten the better of me when I had turned around to the boy who sat behind me, questions piling up in my head. Oh, how I wished someone would have slapped some sense into me.

"Hey," I had said, smiling. "That stuff you said before… Was it true?"

Portgas had leaned back into his seat, his frown and irritable attitude all present in his glory. "What stuff?" he had responded.

"The stuff about the aliens."

"Do you happen to be an alien?"

I had blinked at the sudden question. "Um, no."

"Then what business do you have with me?"

"N-nothing, I guess…"

"Then don't bother talking to me. You're a waste of my time."

With that said, he had torn away his stare and had glared at the ceiling. I had been so shocked that I had just sat there, paralyzed, for a moment. When I had regained my senses, I had noticed that there had been a few people shooting amused glances at me. Ugh, the humiliation.

That was the first time I had been referred to as "a waste of time." Had my feelings been hurt? Yes. Did I now hate Portgas? Strangely, no. For some reason, I felt that I should had known not to ask him such and paid a bit more attention to his introduction—although, it had been a short one. You know what? Never mind. To be frank, Portgas was indeed an insensitive jerk, but I knew that there was some explanation for it.

The conversation about Portgas stirred up by the time lunch came around. I sat with my junior high friend, Kuina, and a girl who had decided to join us, Nojiko.
Nojiko was from Portgas's school, so it was obvious that she would ask me, "Did you try to talk to Portgas-kun?"

I chomped on my roll and nodded.

"And he said something weird and you didn't know how to react?"

"That's what happened," I said, sighing.

Nojiko gave me a sympathetic smile. "Portgas-kun is strange. I would know it the most since I've been in his class for three years, and I'm surprised that I've been sorted into the same class with him again."

Kuina's eyes were filled with curiosity. "Has he always been this peculiar?"

The girl nodded. "As far as I've known him. Back in junior high, he's done some pretty bizarre stuff."

"What kind of stuff?"

"Well, there was that incident where he had snuck into school really late and drew these huge symbols all over the field using dust plaster." Nojiko broke into a grin. "It was spectacular, to be honest. I went to school early that morning and saw these circles and triangles all over. I couldn't figure out what they were supposed to be, so I went up to the fourth floor to get a better view."

"You know, I think I saw a picture on the newspaper about it," Kuina said. "A helicopter flew above the school and took a picture of it."

"I saw the article. The headline read 'Mystery Vandal Strikes Junior High At Night', and the person who came to mind was none other than Portgas-kun. I mean, I couldn't picture anyone else pulling a stunt like that."

"So, it was him, right?"

"Yeah. He even admitted that it was him. Naturally, he got called to the principal's office. From what I heard, every teacher was bombarding him the same question: Why did he do it?"

Kuina leaned forward. "So, why did he do it?"

"I have no clue," Nojiko sighed, taking a bite of her sausage. "There were rumors of why he did it, like how he was trying to call out to UFOs or something."

"Maybe he was into that occult stuff."

"You mean summoning a portal to go to another dimension?" Nojiko shrugged. "Maybe. Portgas-kun refused to talk about it, though. He wouldn't say anything no matter what."

I listened to the conversation carefully. An image of a younger Portgas with drawing powders and tools floated to my mind. He would be dead-set on finishing his work as he constructed random shapes on the field, holding a flashlight to see what he was doing while at it.

I could have imagined the expectations he must have held after his accomplishment. He probably had stared deeply into the sky when he was done, hoping for something paranormal to be attracted to his hard work and land its spaceship right next to him. It must have been a melancholic situation when his hopes were all dried up.

Nojiko went on about the things that Portgas had did, like set out all the desks on top of the roof while being dressed as a vampire, or the time when he performed a ritual having to do with loads of incense. I kind of tuned out afterwards while Nojiko and Kuina became animated in their discussion. I mechanically fed myself as my eyes drifted elsewhere.

Portgas wasn't inside the classroom at this point, or else we probably wouldn't have been having this conversation. But, then again, even if he did hear us, he probably wouldn't have cared. Usually, he marched out of the classroom immediately after fourth period, and then came back right before the fifth. He didn't seem to have a bento, so he could have gone to the cafeteria to eat, but that shouldn't have taken him an hour. Furthermore, he would vanish right at the end of every period. Just where did he go?

Nojiko's snorts rang in my ears, drawing my attention back to her. "He's still pretty popular, though," she said wryly. "He's athletic, smart, and pretty cute too. Some girls even see his peculiarity to be mysterious, and, with that recluse attitude, he's a 'lone wolf' kind of guy."

Wow.

"Really?" Kuina said.

"Yep. For a while, he started to ask girls out randomly. It was said that the longest relationship he had with a girl lasted for a week and the shortest was five minutes."

Five minutes? Talk about crazy! "I'm guessing that he was the one doing all the dumping, yeah?" I spoke up.

"Exactly. The reason why he kept dumping was because, and I quote, 'I prefer not to waste my time with ordinary humans!'" She paused to chew. "At least, that's what the girls kept crying about. Afterwards, they envisioned him to be a villain due to his heartbreaking streak, but that faded away quickly."

And to think that I would have a peaceful high school life. Without a doubt, it was plain to see that Portgas would make this year an interesting one.

It was still April and Portgas had yet to act up, but he did reveal some of his odd routines.

Odd routine #1: Every day, he would change his appearance, and there was a certain pattern to it. On Monday, he would come to school with his hair down and a yellow sticker stuck on his cheek. On Tuesday, he would come to school with a spike gelled on his head and a red sticker on his cheek. Wednesday, two spikes and a blue sticker. Thursday, three spikes and a green sticker. And Friday, four spikes and a gold sticker. And when Monday would return, the routine would start all over.

I didn't understand the purpose of it at all. What was the point of adding to the number of spikes as the days went on? And if he did keep that up, I wondered how his hair would look like on Sunday.

Odd routine #2: For PE, classes 1-5 and 1-6 would be combined. When it would be time to get changed, the girls would go to 1-6 and the boys 1-5. Portgas at least listened to this rule, or rather didn't have to since he didn't need to go anywhere, but he did cause trouble anyway. Before the girls in 1-5 would have the chance to move, Portgas would start stripping away. Most girls would be either confused or flustered by this. Others, those with no shame at all, would start squealing in delight. Apparently, Portgas's muscular physique was equivalent to that of Adonis—not that I would know for certain.

So, basically, we ladies were nothing more than NPCs to him. I had asked Nojiko about this, and she had said that this behavior was totally new for someone like Portgas. In order to protect the purity of our maiden eyes, the girls would scurry out of the room right after the bell would ring.

Odd routine #3: Portgas had a tendency of joining clubs and quitting right after. I had discovered this a while back when I had been passing by. One day, you would see him shooting hoops in the basketball club or spinning an urn in the pottery club. He would hit a homerun in the baseball club or strum a guitar in the music club.

I would take a guess here and say that he was utterly talented in everything that he did because it was a regular occurrence to see people trying to convince him into permanently being their club member. However, Portgas would turn to face them and shout, "What good would it do if I'm to do the same boring stuff? I need new experiences!"

In the end, he didn't join a club.

Because of his in-and-out attitude towards all the clubs that he had tried out, word had gotten around. Ultimately, Portgas had become widely recognized—meaning, there wasn't a single person who didn't know who he was. Compared to the principal who would barely show his face in school, Portgas was basically a household name.

Ridiculous, right?

Ever since they had heard my little brother call me Kyonko, my friends wouldn't stop calling me that. It derived from my grandparents who had thought it would be funny to call me as such, and when Wataru had heard them he had started calling me that. It had been exasperating hearing that nickname, but I later got accustomed to it. Actually, I think that my classmates believe that my real name really was Kyonko.

I was on my way to school, still on the process of pulling myself over Mount Kilimanjaro—this huge hill I must cross over every day. Kuina ran over to me with ease, not at all affected by the steepness of the hill. It could be that I was seriously out of shape or that those kendo practices had endowed Kuina inhuman strength.

"Morning, Kyonko," Kuina chirped.

"Mornin'," I replied drowsily. I squinted at her. "You don't usually walk this way."

Kuina promptly scowled. "No, I don't, but Zoro and I got into an argument, so I decided to take a different route."

Zoro was her brother who younger than us by a year. I figured that he was adopted since he looked nothing like Kuina or their parents, although I didn't know that for sure since I had never asked. I had met Zoro a couple times before. He was a quiet boy, but not because of shyness; he was more like those strong and silent types. There had been times where I did hear him speak, but those times had been more of him complaining than conversing. He had complained about his teachers and his classmates, especially about a particular "love cook" he had been so fond of degrading.

Kuina had once told me that Zoro only knew how to communicate via complaints, which seemed about right.

As we continued our way, we soon came across Nojiko. We traded our salutations and discussed about trivial things. Kuina and Nojiko, being the well-adjusted teenaged girls that they were, easily slipped into a conversation about the latest trends, homework, boys, and whatnot. Once in a while, I would hear something that would catch my interest and I would interject with a comment of my own. Nojiko explaining about how her mom was a tangerine farmer was cool, and Kuina mentioning how she was aiming for the kendo nationals was amazing.

But whenever they would return to the topic of trends, homework, boys, and whatnot, I would tune them off and stare blankly ahead. I wondered if this was what Portgas had meant by finding something out of the ordinary.

I was doing it again.

I was talking with Portgas.

It started with me entering class and finding Portgas already in his seat, frowning like always. Two spikes protruded from his head, confirming that it was indeed Wednesday. After I sat down, I found myself asking him a question again. Something must be wrong with me. Maybe I lost it.

"Are those hair spikes and stickers a way of contacting aliens?"

Portgas slowly lifted his eyes and settled them on me, watching me coolly. I felt a bit uneasy by this. "When did you notice?" he inquired.

I hid my surprise. I wasn't expecting him to respond in such a way, but I was thankful he didn't lash out at me like before. "A while ago, I think."

"Well..." Portgas relaxed into his seat, appearing bored. "Each day of the week gives off a different image: Monday is yellow, Tuesday is red, Wednesday is blue, Thursday is green, Friday is gold, Saturday is brown, and Sunday is white."

I was starting to get it. By using the characters in the colors, there was a number representation. "So that means if we use numbers to represent each color, Monday would be zero and Sunday six, right?"

"Yes."

"Shouldn't Monday be one, though?"

"Who asked you?" he snapped.

I reeled back. "Um, yeah. Right."

And then he glared at me. I could feel a trickle of sweat slide down the back of my neck as I stared back, and I had no idea why I would do such a thing. We continued staring at one another until he asked, "Have I met you somewhere before?"

It was as if the barrier of total awkwardness had finally been broken, only to be replaced with a confusing question. "Um, I don't think so?"

Then Kuro-sensei (what we call our homeroom teacher now) entered the room, ending our first actual conversation. The next day, Portgas came to school with a haircut and sticker-less. Was it something that I said?

"Is it true that you really tried to join all the clubs?"

From then on, I fell into the routine of talking to Portgas a few minutes before class would start. As expected, if I didn't try to start a conversation, Portgas would just sit there with a frown. Never had I witnessed a smile gracing his features. Additionally, I had to come up with interesting topics to talk about, nothing like what was seen on TV last night or the new popstar sensation. Nojiko and Kuina would undoubtedly fail at holding a conversation with him.

I would prop my arm on the head of the chair and rest my chin on my arm. I was sure that Portgas was used to this by now, and I grew used to seeing him frown and fold his arms across his chest and him leaning against his seat. For someone who didn't openly expressed his hatred for structure, he sure was establishing one daily.

"Yes," he replied.

"Were any of them fun?"

"No," Portgas said this with an exceptionally flat tone, and then sighed. "Everyone says that high school would be life changing, but I see no difference. The protocol is essentially the same: mandatory education, boring lectures, dumb clubs… I've attended the wrong school—that might be it."

No, all schools were like this.

"Sports clubs and cultural clubs are exactly the same. They're all boring. If there was some unique, exceptional club in this school, then I might consider joining," he huffed out.

"Who put you in charge of deciding what clubs are interesting or not?" I wondered aloud.

Portgas scowled. "Shut up. I prefer a club that's unique and special. I'd consider joining something like that."

"I knew you'd say that."

"Hm."

"I heard that you asked out and then dumped all your girlfriends."

Portgas's head shot up. "What does it matter to you?"

I had a feeling that if I said, "Nothing," Portgas would grow irrationally angry. Instead, I honestly replied, "Curious."

"Che." Portgas folded his arms and scowled. "I don't know what you heard, but it doesn't matter. Most of it is true, in any case."

"So, you never met a girl you ever wanted to have a serious relationship with?"

"Not one. How could I possibly engage in a serious relationship when all of them were silly and immature? The majority of them expected me to whip out a luxurious dinner with candles, and then take them to a sappy romantic movie for the 'heart-pounding experience', or so I've been told. Many, many, many times, in fact." I realized that Portgas was ranting.

"And in the end, they would say a shy goodbye and walk away. What is up with that? And then, without fail, they would conjure a confession of their deepest love and adoration over the phone. What's so hard about saying it to my face?"

I couldn't answer, not that Portgas would want my answer anyway. All of those questions were rhetorical, of course. But I couldn't find a response that would suit his tastes—I would probably wind up furthering his ire—because I could understand how those girls felt. I mean, they were in junior high at the time; it was obvious that they would expect those things from him. And I was sure they were too shy to profess their love in person.

He had a strong personality and was too insensible to bother seeing it from his former girlfriends' perspectives. Or maybe it was because he was a typical fifteen-year-old boy with an infatuation for the paranormal. Yeah, naturally, that would classify him as terrible boyfriend material. I really hoped that I wouldn't end up with someone like Portgas.

"I'm guessing that only aliens could satisfy your tastes then?" I inquired dryly.

"I am fine with aliens or similar things as long as they're not human, regardless of whether they're male or female."

I raised a brow. "Why is it so important that they not be human?"

Portgas looked at me as though I was an idiot. "Because ordinary humans are no fun at all."

"How do you do it?"

I blinked. "Do what?"

"Don't play dumb," Nojiko snorted. "How did you manage to get Portgas-kun to talk so much? I've never seen him engaged in so many conversations before!"

"I just…asked him questions."

She gave me a flat stare. "Just asked questions?"

"Really."

"Really?"

"Really!"

It was by time that we got to change seats now. The student president tore pieces of paper and numbered them all and placed them in a tin. The tin was then passed around for us to draw from it. Giddiness welled up inside me when I realized that this was my chance to get away from Portgas! As fun as it was trying to communicate with an alien-obsessed weirdo, there was just so much alien-obsessed weirdo exposure that I could handle.

And the seat that I had chosen was the absolutely best one yet! It was in the second to last row next to the window that overlooked the courtyard—talk about fantastic!

And just guess who sat behind me?

The ever-frowning Portgas…

I just couldn't believe my luck. It wasn't like I believed there was something like the red string of fate being tied to your pinky or anything, but seriously? Did Portgas really had to miraculously pick a seat that happened to be the one behind me? Seriously?

Portgas was groaning. I noticed that he was trying to bury his face in his desk. "Why won't anything interesting ever happen?" he whined. "Like, I don't know, grade school kids vanishing one by one and their bodies being found by the river bed or teachers found murdered inside a locked classroom! That'd be exciting."

I tried not to twitch. "Portgas, shut up."

I didn't know why, but Portgas had been a bit more talkative nowadays. In fact, he was the one who would bring up the conversations himself. "I went to see what the Mystery Study Group was like," he said.

"Oh? And how was it?"

"Boring as hell. There was nothing interesting. And all the members were detective otakus, yet none of them bother to dress up like one."

Did you have to dress up like a detective in order to be one?

"I also went to the Supernatural Study Group," Portgas went on.

"And how was that one?"

"The members were just a bunch of occult maniacs."

And he wasn't?

"You didn't have fun in that one?" I asked, propping my cheek on my hand.

"Nope." Portgas sat up straighter and sighed with a heavy heart. "Everything is too boring. Why does this school have no decently interesting clubs?"

It had been quite some time since his vigorous club hunting had started, and yet none of the clubs had satisfied him. What was up with this guy? He was expecting way too much out of a simple high school. The sports clubs were too boring, the culture clubs were too boring, and the study group clubs were too boring… If everything was boring to him, then what in the world could possibly entertain him?

I got the general idea of what kind of club that he wanted, and that was the "do anything interesting" club, which I wasn't sure whether it existed or not. Well, just what was interesting to him? Aliens, monsters, espers, and anything paranormal, that much I knew. He also liked murder crimes, right? And he did like UFOs, regarding to that time when he had drawn on his junior high school's field.

But all of the things that Portgas wanted—the strange, spontaneous, and crazy—couldn't happen in real life. That was why he complained all the time; that was why he was always irritable. He was just like a child.

I knew how that felt, though.

"If you don't like the clubs here, why not make your own?" I said absently. Ha. If Portgas were to establish his own club, he would find it uninteresting and toss it away like the other clubs he had attended to for a short time period.

Portgas didn't respond. Instead, his face darkened into rage. Good grief, did I have a knack for pissing Portgas off or what?

The summer heat was making me sleepy, and the whole class, I was sure. As I was nodding off, something grabbed my ponytail and jerked me backwards, startling me awake and causing me to yelp. My hands flew to my head as I strained my neck to see what was behind me. Of course it would be Portgas.

"What are you doing? Let go!" I snapped.

I could only catch him from the corner of my periphery, but something in his tone made me imagine that he was smiling—if that was possible. "Why didn't I think about this before?" he cheered—first time I ever heard him cheer. "You're a genius, Kyonko!"

When he released me, I turned and was stunned to see that he really was smiling. A radiant grin bloomed on his face. From all those days of seeing him expressing nothing more than a frown or a scowl or an impassive face of pure boredom, this grin nearly took my breath away—in a shocking sense, I mean.

Not only that, but this was the first time I ever heard him address me by name. Well, nickname. A name that only my friends referred to me as. I had no idea that Portgas had bothered to listen to anything irrelevant to aliens.

Portgas shot up to his feet and towered over me, his eyes sparkling like the stars. "If it doesn't exist, then why don't create one myself?"

"Create what?" I muttered, soothing the sore spot on my head.

"Create a club!"

"Oh, that's great," I deadpanned, "but, right now, I want you to remember where we are, and then you can share your incredible find with me later."

"Why? What do you mean?"

"Class is still on."

Our classmates were outright gawking at us and the newbie English teacher looked as though she was about to cry. Must be hard having students who didn't care what you were teaching.

I signaled Portgas to sit down, which he actually did (reluctantly) along with his grumblings. I bowed politely to the teacher and sat down as well.

As the lesson continued, my mind drifted away. Create a club? I didn't think he would take me seriously! And just when I thought I had simply pissed him off royally. I just hoped that, whatever plans he had in store, he wouldn't drag me along with him.