That day was like any other, yet I remember each detail painfully clearly.
I woke up at seven like every morning, too early for my liking, and began my morning routine. Uniform on, hair into two pigtails secured with ribbon, reply to a good morning text from my boyfriend of two weeks, then run out the door with breakfast in hand. Mum bade me a cheerful goodbye and I promised to hang out the washing if I got home before her.
Once I got to school I met my friends Mimi and Molly at the lockers and we caught up on the weekend's gossip. Mimi complimented me on my hair – I'd had it redyed to make the shade of baby pink look refreshed. Then it was time to head to the first class of the day, but I couldn't help smiling because I knew that Andrew, my boyfriend, would be there.
His face lit up in a bright smile once I stepped in the room, which I returned. We were still in the awkward stage of getting to know one another, but I really liked him already. He was sweet, smart and athletic and I knew how lucky I was. It's not often that the slightly weird girl with the unnatural pink hair gets a date with the black-haired, blue-eyed school celebrity.
I sat down next to him and we whispered to each other about our weekends as the teacher started droning on about the function of the autonomic nervous system. We were only interrupted by an announcement over the P.A system.
"Attention students. All Year 12 girls are to report to the hall for annual injections. Year 11 girls shall report in at the beginning of second period." I cursed to myself – how could I have forgotten? I'm terrified of needles and have managed to skip the last few years. Andrew gave me a knowing look and pushed me to the door after the rest of the girls in the class. I followed them regretfully, casting a desperate look back to Andrew before giving in.
I skittishly made my way down to the hall using my favourite shortcut through the garden. I was tempted to bolt in the complete opposite direction, but I'd already been marked present so I'd get in heaps of trouble when they figured out I snuck off. I took a moment to catch my breath and regain my composure before slipping back amongst the crowd of girls. We were shepherded into the line.
I rubbed my sweaty palms on my skirt. Most people around me seemed a bit annoyed at being dragged out of class, although girls here or there were panicking quietly. I saw girls walking out of the small, curtained booths which had been set up with plasters on their upper arms. One girl complained loudly about how much it had hurt. A wave of nausea hit me.
Nope, nope, nope, I thought, cringing to myself. I glanced around for a teacher. "Miss!" I called. A young teacher with thick glasses who I didn't recognise turned around. "Can I go to the toilet?"
"Sure, but remember where you were in line," she replied. I heaved a sigh of relief and dashed to the back room of the hall where the toilets were. Now to make my grand escape. I'll head back to class with everyone none the wiser, I thought. I looped around and managed to dart out the other side of the hall with the people who'd already received injections.
No, that was way too easy. Plus, if I go back to class with my arm in perfect condition, that'll be too obvious. A stupid yet brilliant plan came to me. I watched one of the closed off booths closely and waited for the nurse inside to go out to fetch another student. Then I ran inside, grabbed a spare plaster, and slapped it on my arm. I was about to dash away when I saw a clipboard with a list of names on it and some random data beside each one.
I could tick my name off and the problem would be completely solved. I whipped a pen out of my pocket and scanned down the list searching for my name. Strangely enough, when I found it, it was highlighted. There were two other highlighted names on the list, but both had a tick next to them and a note scrawled beside them reading 'not suitable'.
I put a tick beside my name and ran back to class as quickly as I could. I wasn't the first girl back to class after the injections so nobody suspected a thing.
"How was it?" Andrew asked kindly at the end of the class.
"Better than I thought it would be," I grinned. He walked me back to my locker and then we headed on our separate ways for our next class. My heart fluttered and I smiled stupidly to myself, as a lovey-dovey eighteen year old does.
The rest of the day passed quickly. Between receiving piles of homework, chatting with Mimi and Molly, and exchanging flirtatious glances with Andrew, I barely had time to even think about the suspicious list.
I was reminded all too quickly when during the final period of the day, Japanese, I got a note telling me to go to the school office.
"It's probably just about your pink hair," Molly reasoned.
"Erm, probably." I packed up my stuff and chucked it in my locker on the way.
When I got there, I was surprised that I was the only one in the office. I thought that there'd be at least a few more people who'd skipped out on injections. I guess they figured out that I'd tried to tick myself off. Maybe it was actually about my hair!
"Oh, you're here." I turned and saw the principal, a short, balding man with watery blue eyes, stood beside an unfamiliar man who looked like a teacher. The man, who towered over the principal and had long brown hair, smiled. I was immediately suspicious – his smile looked carefully crafted rather than genuine. Maybe it was my pink hair, it tended to put people off a bit.
"This is Dr. Akasaka, he's in charge of the clinic running the immunisation program," the principal said by way of introduction. Oh crap, this guy likes needles. Must be a sick, twisted bastard.
"Pleasure to meet you," he said. I expected him to have a Japanese accent, but his English was so good that it was barely audible. "May I have a word with you?"
The principal ushered the two of us into his office and closed the door. My suspicions doubled.
"Miss…" he trailed off, waiting for me to supply my name.
I decided to lie. What's a good fake name? Uh… I mean, he'd probably look it up later, but at least he couldn't get me into trouble within the next few minutes.
Fake name, fake name… "I'm Winry Rockbell," I grinned.
"Well, Miss Rockbell, I'd like you to join the MEW Project."
The what? Am I gonna be a Pokémon trainer? I thought.
He clearly understood my confused expression and elaborated, "the MEW Project is… Well, let's say a group of elite students, hand-picked to join, who will receive training and learn how to become a valuable member of the general community."
I didn't know where to start telling him he was completely wrong. First of all, I am by no means elite. I mean, I guess my grades are good, A or A+ average in all subjects, but when it comes to dealing with actual life situations I'm hopeless. I can't cook, I run in front of cars by accident all the time, and even my friends constantly tell me I'm weird.
Also, the 'general community' can piss right off. I don't like most people and I'm certainly not joining some stupid project to help them out.
Thirdly, I may not be elite but I'm not dumb either. What kind of training? Also, why is there a strange man recruiting young high school girls by himself? No, thanks.
"Um… No, sorry, I like this school," I said.
He raised an eyebrow doubtfully. "I'm afraid you don't fully grasp the situation. Once you have been selected for the MEW Project, you are obliged to–"
"I am so not. I didn't sign up for it so you can't make me. Why the hell would you even pick someone like me anyway? Ugh, this is so dodgy. You'll have to find someone else."
"And that is the exact reason we've chosen you," he smiled blandly. "You have excellent instincts."
"Yeah? Well, my instinct is to get the hell out of here, so catch you later." I turned and grabbed the door handle, but it was locked. What… I shot Dr. Akasaka a fierce glare. He responded with another smile. I was tempted to smack it right off his face, but I'd get in so much trouble for that at school.
I walked past him to get to the window, planning to jump out. Before I could respond, he grabbed me around the shoulders and sighed.
"Why do they always make it so difficult?" he grumbled. Suddenly there was a cloth held over my face and I felt my legs crumble beneath me. The principal's office dissolved into a black fog.
A.N: Hey guys, in case you didn't realise it, Mimi and Molly are Ichigo's random friends (I think they're called Moe and Miwa) and Andrew is Aoyama. If you haven't figured out who Dr. Akasaka is, shame on you.