Kitsuna sat in a store, barely awake. She drifted off just as the rain started to fall outside. The rain that made it hard to tell how far the sun had risen since she got to work. She had about five minutes of rest before a loud bang woke her up, and shouting.
"What're you doin'? You're gonna be late, and after starting late already!"
A man with bleached hair, held back by a headband, and flip flops shouted at her from the front door. He was out of breath, and his clothes had mud on them. He doubled over, wheezing, then stood up and checked to see if she was awake.
"Huh? When-oh shit!," Kitsuna shouted and frantically grabbed her bag. She hit the door and was stopped by more shouting.
"Apron! Your apron!," the blonde shouted down the street. He groaned as he watched her sprint and remove the apron, stuffing it into her bag. He contemplated lighting a cigarette, but the smell of something burning caught his attention. "Shit!"
…
Kitsuna slid in the mud in front of the school gate, noting the empty schoolyard and cursing as she nearly lost her footing completely. She made a mad dash for the stairs, then stopped in the entry area to catch her breath.
"Woah, you're soaked!"
She looked up, spotting a teacher with glasses and big brown eyes. With a shake, like that of a wet dog, she made one futile effort to rid herself of the rain that made her hair curl and clothes wrinkle up. The teacher handed her a handkerchief, which she used to squeeze some water out of her shirt and hair. He laughed a little, and beamed at her.
"You're still late, but you might avoid a tardy. Ah, the classrooms are that way, but try not to run in the halls," he pointed down the hall to the left, to which the girl held up a thumbs up before returning the handkerchief and power walking up the short flight of steps.
"Thanks, uh, Takeda!"
The girl called out from around the corner, and he knew from the squeaky footsteps that she had bolted at full speed.
…
"So today, we have a new student joining us. A first year, recently transferred in," the teacher heard frantic footsteps outside the door, and sighed before continuing. "I hope you'll all welcome them nicely. Come on in."
…
Shit, shit, shit! Kitsuna cursed as she slid to a stop just outside the door. She flung it open, belting out a breathless apology. The air felt off in the room, and she looked around. All but one of the faces was unfamiliar. That told her everything she needed to know, but she checked the sign above the door to be sure.
"Fuck! Sorry, wrong room!," and she slammed the door shut. She bolted down the hall, the teacher yelling at her about language and the running.
"Huh?," Daichi stared at the door with his fellow classmates, all completely stunned by that brief introduction. He glanced at Asahi, who looked absolutely terrified of the display, then at Sugawara who had a look of amusement on his face. That shout had ripped Daichi from some deep thoughts, spurred on by the weather and timing. It sounded painfully familiar, but the dark hair didn't match the face he had expected to see with it.
Kitsuna arrived at class just in time for the teacher to poke their head out the door, looking for their late arrival. The girl tried to stop her sprint, but ended up sliding on the wet floor and stopped just in front of the teacher's feet.
"You're late, Satori Kitsuna," the woman chided. Kitsuna flinched while pulling herself off the floor, bowing in apology and catching her breath. She was ushered into the room, and the teacher repeated the introductory statement with a hint of ice in their voice.
"Sorry!," Kitsuna apologized again, but the teacher just shooed her to a seat toward the window. Some murmuring spread around the room, some of which definitely too loud to be called a whisper.
"Why's she soaked?"
"And out of breath? Did she wake up late and run over?"
"Wow, she's tall!"
"That hair, though. You'd expect someone smaller to be shy like that."
"What an entrance though."
There was some snickering at the last remark before the teacher called everyone to attention. Kitsuna sighed, only halfway following along with the lesson. She dozed off for a while, earning a smack from the teacher and more snickering. Shit.
"Satori Kitsuna, to the faculty room please," rang out over the intercom system, and Kistuna groaned before collecting her things and trudging out of the classroom. The bell rang for the end of first period, making the halls fill with students. Kitsuna pulled some headphones over her ears while she walked, keenly aware of the glances and whispers from her huge entrance. The air conditioning on her wet clothes was extra cold when she made it to the staffroom and spotted a somewhat less smiley Takeda-sensei.
"Right, so. You probably were fine at just being a little late, but," the man trailed off, glancing at a paper in his hand and motioning to the seat beside him. He noted the girl's crestfallen face, but it vanished almost as quickly as it appeared.
"Sorry. Panicked a bit," the girl muttered. She seemed sincere enough, but Takeda still let out a hefty sigh and glanced around the room. Thankfully, for now, it was mostly empty.
"Listen. I'm sure it's gonna make waves anyway, with you starting in the second semester. But you made a pretty big impression with your mad dash, and yelling into the wrong classroom. I know your situation, so I won't go too hard on the lecture. Just try not to make a scene too often?," the teacher clapped his hands together as if begging, making Kitsuna flounder.
"Eh? Ah, right. Sorry! Hyechoo!," Kitsuna sneezed, barely covering with her uniform sleeve. Takeda regained some of his composure, and filtered through some paperwork on his desk. Kitsuna squinted at it, spotting a notebook labeled "Volleyball" which fell to the floor. She scooped it up, choking at a name she saw there.
"Here, a note. You can change into your gym clothes til your uniform's dry. Ah, do you have them with you?," Takeda handed the slip of paper to the girl, who took it while placing a notebook back on his desk.
"I do. Um," she fidgeted with her skirt, trying not to show signs of the cold air getting to her already.
"Thanks. Oh, here's your schedule, and a map of the classrooms. Ah, the bell. Go get changed, then head to period two," Takeda handed her two more papers, which she took in her hands. Her fingertips brushed his, and he shivered at how cold her hands were.
"Thanks," the girl stood up, staring at the floor. Her ears, covered in piercings, peeked out from under her now frizzy hair. They were bright red, a mark of the cold or because she was embarrassed by her rocky start to the school year. She left, walking somewhat stiffly, staring at the papers on her way out of the office. She headed for the nearest restroom, slipping out of her uniform and into a tracksuit she had brought with. She paused at her underwear, wondering which would be more humiliating. To go without, or to have the wet marks show through her clothes. She settled on going without, and zipped the jacket up high before stuffing the wet underwear into her back and draping the uniform over her arm.
"Hey-oh. Right. Who's your homeroom teacher? Nevermind, you can put your clothes on the desk at the back til they dry, take a seat."
