It is... Saturday? Yeah, Saturday. Not sure how many of you listen to the new hard rock, but this song below, Antisocialist, and Popular Monster have been my mood for the past two weeks. Also, got really high-key obsessed with The Hu since I heard Wolf Totem featuring Papa Roach. Fucking amazing, tell y'all what.

Enjoy the "sho!"

I'm a little bit off today,
Something down inside me's different.
Woke up a little off today,
I can tell that something's wrong.
I'm a little thrown off today,
there's something going on inside me.
I'm a little bit off today, a little bit off today.
I'm a little bit off today.
Something down inside me feels so different.
Just a little bit off today.
You can all fuck off today.

-A Little Bit Off- Five Finger Death Punch

Dying the Towel a New Color

I woke up early Monday, before my alarm even went off.

I went about my routine, with the added steps needed to hide the green abnormalities that returned whenever I slept. I guess that just meant I should take extra care not to nap at school. At all.

I stood at the top of the stairs, just looking down the flight and trying to fight off the sinking dread that was overtaking me. It wasn't about my appearance, of course. Everything was gone, even that dumb tail. It was more like… I don't know, first day at new school anxiety. It was the same list of thoughts and concerns I remember having when we first moved to Mushiyori, leaving the old family home behind, leaving those girls I had play dates with, leaving my dog…

It didn't feel much like leaving, per say, but it was the same sense of displacement, like I'd lost something and now new things were trying to take its place in some weird collage of sounds and images. Walking down the stairs for the first time since the weekend felt like creeping through a dark jungle, where you just knew something with really big teeth was looking at you. Strangely enough though, it didn't make my chest tighten or my throat close up like that sensation normally did. I was just hyper aware of every movement from the corners of my eyes, the cautious prey tiptoeing over dead leaves and trying not to be heard.

I waited quietly through my father's inspection of my bag, almost smiling at his nod of approval (read: probably not approval, more like reluctant acceptance of the fact I wasn't actually smuggling anything). I took the bag from him, leaving the house and knowing Katou was watching from the door to the kitchen.

She hadn't mentioned me being sick to my father at all, and while that was a relief not to have to explain anything, it did make me wonder. Not really wondering anything in particular, I so did not have the brain for big speculation. It just struck me as a little weird.

Unlike Friday, I was perfectly within the time constraints, early even! I took my sweet time walking to the train station, about 10 or so minutes, maybe more. The distance didn't seem to be so terrible when I was walking at such a leisurely pace, yet had seemed like ten miles when I had to run it.

Just thinking about it reminded me of the… dream? Not-dream? It reminded me of my memories, be they fake or not, of racing from the river, through the city, and back home. I hadn't tried to run like that yet, and I hoped I never would again. I was running dangerously low on medication. I don't think I was supposed to use the inhalers so many times…

Anyways, I was on the train pretty soon. I hung loosely on a pole, staring out at the scenery flashing by. The very first bridge we crossed was the one I remembered from that weird night. It didn't look so cold and lonely with the morning sun glinting warmly off the rails. Where the river had seemed so devoid of compassion before, it now looked… lively, blue slapping gaily against stones that were such a bright grey, they could have been molded with silver in the sediment. Autumn had never looked so fresh, warm colors soaking up the sun and bouncing the light back with clarity I thought only existed in paintings.

The trees, experiencing their annual temporary death, were so full of life today. Seeing them like that, peaceful, happy… I caught myself smiling, even though the scenery remained in my vision for no more than a minute.

The ride was silent, as it always was. It was nice to know that even among all these people, I was alone. No one would look at me. No one would speak to me. And to be honest, that was all such a refreshing change from home. The scrutiny and forced conversation was so… ugh. But here, it was nice. It was like nobody was even there, and I could look out the window in complete peace.

I mean, sure, it got a little boring after the first few minutes, but the train didn't run more than twenty minutes until the stop to get off for school. By that time, I was ready to do something more than just sit there and look at trees. Trees were nice but like, once you see one, you've basically seen them all.

The train stopped, and I stood to let myself be pulled along by the flow of students. People came close to brushing or bumping me, but I hurried out of their way and ahead of them, eventually coming to the stairs out of the station. I didn't get far.

"Tokage-Chan!" I stopped, and if my dead heart was still beating, it probably would have skipped. As it was, my breath caught in my throat for a brief moment before I turned, regarding the three girls with wide eyes.

Kiku was staring at me expectantly, her brow raised and head tilted just so. Oddly, her chin jutted slightly like she was looking… up?

"Uh… hey, Kiku-San."

I stood there, not exactly frozen but unable to move all the same. It felt like there was something I was missing, something I was supposed to do, and until I figured it out my body was in standby. Eventually though, the girl slowly extended her arms, eyes staring almost blankly at me, and I glanced down at her school bag, my mind devoid of understanding for just a second before I remembered what I was supposed to do. Hurriedly and with a forced laugh, I accepted the burden.

"R-right, sorry, I forgo-"

"So how was your weekend," Fujiko asked, and I turned my head, blinking rapidly, to respond, but she was directing her question at Kiku. "Did you end up needing the extra class time after all?"

They had started to walk away, and I could feel my face contorting into some unfamiliar expression. That strange feeling welled up faster than I could process it, and my body reacted before I even knew what was going on.

"Hey," I voiced indignantly, immediately catching their attention once more. "I was trying to say-" but I stopped myself, catching the words in my throat and clutching them tightly under the weight of three bemused stares. I waited a moment for my chest to close up, or for my breathing to become labored, but nothing happened.

"What was that?" Kiku asked, the curiosity in her voice carrying a hard edge that told me she didn't care so much about the answer I wanted to give. Was it always like that? God, I'd heard that tone so many times…

"I- uh, n-nothing," I stammered. "It's nothing, sorry to interrupt." I gave what felt like the corniest smile of my life. I wasn't sure what prompted me to act so… ugh! Maybe it was fear, or maybe it was just because that's how I was used to being. That had to be it. I couldn't let them know just how much had actually changed about me. I mean, a tail and some scales are one thing, but Kiku would never tolerate me talking back. Honestly, I just didn't want to be that friendless loser everyone talks crap about.

They finally turned away, each of them giving me a variation of the expression of disdain. I'd seen quite a few, and they looked different on everyone. Sometimes I could even tell the reason just by their eyes. There was so much written there in the eyes. Windows to the soul was hardly an apt description. Eyes could tell you so much about a person, even just by knowing the color. Eyes didn't just tell facts, they told stories, narratives weaving in and out of reality and normalcy just to rationalize the things they see. The eyes show you their imaginations. They show you their intentions. They show you their truest feelings at any given moment.

My eyes were the same color again as they were before. But they were so different now. It was impossible no one who looked me in the face had noticed. So, of course, my father didn't notice. I'm sure Katou did though. She gave me a… look. It wasn't a bad look, but it was weird enough to stick with me the whole day yesterday, and all this morning.

Did she know, somehow?

Broken from that wildly off-track train of thought, I only realized we had reached the school when I had kept walking past the locker where the other girls had stopped. I turned back with an embarrassed flush, returning hurriedly and handing off the books to Kiku. She regarded me with a careful look.

"Are you alright? You're acting very strange today." I shrugged with an apologetic smile.

"Ah, well, I just didn't get a lot of sleep this weekend. Nothing too terrible." She hummed in thought, taking out her indoor shoes to switch with her street loafers.

"I would imagine with all your fathers money, he could afford to buy you a decent mattress. It's not like comfort is really an issue, hm?"

Fujiko and Ayame hid their mouths behind dainty hands, only their shaking shoulders giving away what exactly their little breakable fingers were concealing.

'Not good! Don't think like that, I'm not a savage,' the weak voice reminded me. It was right, this time.

"Oh, no, it's not that. My bed is super comfy, plus it's practically brand new. It was just that I had a lot going on and I was just busy thinking." Kiku's eyes narrowed.

"Brand new, huh? You know, most normal people don't bother buying new mattresses until a few years have passed, at least." Her tone sounded scolding, almost resentful, and I blinked dumbly.

"Oh. Sorry."

They just stared at me now, completely silent. Even the other two had stopped laughing by this point, their eyes focused like cats when some small, unfamiliar creature walks into the room. It was almost like they were unsure if they should attack or investigate, and this tiny rodent was not willing to stay and find out.

"So… I'll just head to class." I can't remember if I even had the wherewithal to give them a parting bow before scurrying off to the next floor up. I sped through the door with my head low, the path to my desk remarkably clear. Chancing a glance up as I took my seat, I realized I was… apparently early? There was hardly anyone here yet. Normally when I got here the class was just about full.

"Oh crap," I whispered as the realization hit me. Of course I was early, I had totally forgotten I was supposed to help the girls with their books! Plus, we usually took the East stairwell, so we were usually the last to arrive. I didn't really question it, since it wasn't my place, but I had always wondered why we didn't use the West stairwell instead. I mean, home room was on the West side of the school. It didn't make much sense to me, especially since they always wanted to walk so slowly.

I kept my head bowed, flicking my gaze up every now and then to make sure they didn't catch me off guard. Students came through, cherry red and magenta passing like blurs of color. The only thing I really registered was the fact that some of them looked at me.

Like, with an expression, not just a passing glance. Their eyes would narrow like they were trying to silently ask me why I was breaking the norm. I blinked, looking away and back towards the open door before I had to answer. Not that I would know what to say.

And of course, I noticed him. I mean, who didn't? He was like, impossible to miss, even in the exact same uniform as all the other guys. He made his normal, slow journey to his desk, his bright eyes wandering the room- nah, not wandering. That's way too pedestrian of a term. It was more like searching. Pleasant smiles could never hide that piercing emerald. Garish magenta could never detract from that gorgeous mop on his head. His hair was just a few shades off from the girls uniform, but it still stuck out like a black hole in a snowstorm. Although, maybe it was more than just a few shades. There were definitely darker highlights now that I was really looking, and it shifted in the light when he turned his head slowly, his gaze making a steady sweep of the room until-

He noticed me.

Crap crap crap crap!

I averted my eyes quickly, but definitely not quickly enough. We held stares for a good half-second at least. There's no way he couldn't tell. Why did he have to be looking around this time? Stupid Minamino! Just stick to what you normally do!

I fought not to watch him from the corner of my eye as he made his way across the classroom, so slowly it seemed, but maybe I was imagining it, and finally took his seat near the front. I let go of the breath I had been holding when his back turned, and I knew for sure there was no chance that he was still looking at me.

"You left us behind." Kiku. Darnit. I looked up at the girl, covering my face with an awkward-feeling smile and offering a nervous laugh. If these mistakes kept up, it was going to be a long day…

By lunch time, I had just about decided that dropping out might not be such a bad idea after all.

Our history pop quiz was… a disaster on the level of godzilla stomping through my brain and obliterating half the school year. Nothing on the page even registered as something I had ever heard before in my life. My eyes flashed between the dates, names and events without a hint of recognition. I must have sat there for five minutes straight just staring at the paper, not moving. I wasn't even sure I was breathing.

'Okay… Just, start writing something,' the weak voice encouraged. 'Maybe it will come back to you.'

I put my pencil to the first line, slowly writing out the introductory words to a sentence that could be going any number of directions. I couldn't even tell what I was going to say, focusing so heavily on the name of some supposedly important geisha. It was a somewhat masculine name, so maybe she was some kind of performer? Or wait, was it the ones with the long, extravagant names who were performers? Were they all performers?

Did she dance? What did she look like? What colors did she wear? Red for luck, or maybe she deviated and wore colder colors to stand out. Was she educated, or just a wandering girl displaced by war? Suddenly, it didn't seem to matter what she had done, historically speaking. History was bound to get things wrong, and to miss out on the important details that made up the woman. Or maybe, it was a male geisha! That was an exciting thought! Plenty of women took up the names of men in that time. They were bold, exotic, beautiful! But what if it really was a young man? Who were they really, behind their performer name?

So much history went unspoken in the words of the textbooks. Only the pictures beside them could ever fill in any gaps. Even then, the faces were drawn with the same expressions every time. Polite when serving, sly when seducing, happy all the time, like painted white masks covering their truth, hiding it from those they served, and those who remembered them in words alone.

I decided it was a boy. I decided that he had run away from the life of being a samurai's apprentice to pursue his dream of performing. Yet, he always retained the knowledge and skills he had learned from his former master, incorporating it into his dances. He must have carried a sword then, and the expression he painted on every day was brave, and alluring, beckoning everyone who saw him to ask who he was. He would smile and tell them nothing, because he was also quite mysterious and preferred to keep his history secret.

Maybe his dance saved a noble once from an assassination attempt! Yes, the dancer with the real sword and the knowledge to use it somehow prevented the death, and earned himself fame and recognition! I could almost see him, dancing in gold and green, like a dragon with scales in the pattern of petals falling from a delicate stem of wisteria.

Hanaryo. Beautiful, deadly, the Flower Dragon.

I lifted my pencil from the page, staring down at what I had managed to write. I… I hadn't written anything.

K… kuso!

Mortified, I realized that I had, at some point, turned the paper over to the blank backside. Where the canvass had been a spotless white, it was now horribly defaced with the image of the geisha, his robes draped about him like great wings, the kimono clinging to him like a second skin as he completed a turn. The sword in his hand even glinted as it reflected light I could not myself see, his eyes reflected in the blade sharp enough to pierce bone. Were his eyes sharp, or the metal? Or both?

The sketch was rough, unpolished, as it should be considering how long it had been since I actually created something. The line work was wobbly, proportions not entirely correct, and the fingers of the left hand could definitely use some work. So could the flower petals. It could use color too. But his face…

I tried so hard to believe what I had done was wrong. True, it was counterproductive, and had nothing to do with the quiz I was trying to take. I had let myself be distracted by wandering thoughts and a completely out of control hand. I would be punished. I knew I would, and I would deserve it. So of course, I tried to admonish myself. I tried to tell that delinquent that she- I- had far too much control now, and I was going to get me in so much trouble.

But I couldn't even think that, not looking at his face. Because he was beautiful. And maybe I had failed other aspects of the piece, and it more resembled the abstract workings of a five-year-old, but the face was perfect. It was exactly what I saw when I pictured Hanaryo in my head. It was that delicate expression of watchful mischief, the caution in the eyes of the warrior accented by the softer curve of the lips from his mask of joy.

How could I hate him when he was looking right at me with that face?

Maki-Sensei came to collect out papers at the twenty minute mark. I tried to hide my embarrassed flush when she stopped at my desk. I could feel the change in her as I saw her posture shift from the corner of my eye, and heard the breathy release of air in utter disbelief.

"You… you didn't answer a single question," she muttered quietly, reaching down to snatch the paper from my desk. It disappeared from my line of sight, but she remained. She had paused, and I flinched when I heard the swish of air over thin pulp. She had turned the paper over, probably seeing the outline of my deviation on the back.

She stilled. I waited. I would have counted my breaths if I wasn't so focused on making sure I was actually breathing and wouldn't pass out from lack of oxygen. I was already dizzy…

"Tokagemaru-San… I want you to see me after school."

I bit back a sob, ducking my head further. My shoulders shook with the effort it took to keep from tearing out of the classroom and away from the school. She continued past me, but I could still feel eyes on the top of my head. I looked up, both to find the source of those eyes discreetly and to check and make sure my hair was still brown.

Fujiko. Her eyes were wide with disbelief, and I could see the gears in her head turning as her expression grew darker, more accusatory. It became a glare pretty quickly, and I gulped down the tears that stung my eyes. My forehead almost met the cold wood of the desk in my attempt to disappear.

Maths was worse.

The numbers and words jumbled together in an indistinguishable line of shapes. Words appeared to jump out that I knew weren't really there, and I wasn't sure of the question was trying to tell me there were 400 bikes for sale, or one bike was worth 400 yen.

I caught myself this time, halfway through drawing a bicycle made of tree branches. The evidence was hurriedly erased, then scribbled over with random equations to be sure it was completely covered. I think I attempted to solve that problem with what I was doing, but the look my desk mate gave me was undoubtedly one of disgusted disbelief when he happened to catch sight of the collection of numbers.

Lunch time should have been a relief. It wasn't.

I made to walk outside, following Fujiko as I normally did, since we shared the previous gym class. Not that I ever did much during that class. I wasn't allowed with my condition. They had me walk sometimes though.

Trailing behind the girl with my head down, I almost bumped into her when she stopped, turning to me with a glare. I took a half step back, completely unsure of what to do next and waiting on her to say… well, something! But she didn't. She just stood there, eyes raking over me like she was looking for something. I noted once again, now that we were close, she was definitely looking up.

"Kiku was right," she finally announced. "You're being weird today."

I opened my mouth to apologize. I didn't get very far.

"You need to stop."

I closed my mouth, staring at her silently.

"You don't have the right to be acting this way. You should be grateful we've even put up with it this long. Don't forget your place. You may be rich, but that doesn't make you any better than the rest of us." She took a step away, her head high as she turned, missing my words as she all but stormed ahead of me.

"I know that…"

My shoulders slumped, hands tightly gripping the handle of my bento as I made my way over to the place in the courtyard where we usually sat. It was somewhere by the greenhouse, which naturally meant that the chances of sighting Perfect Minamino were pretty darn high. It seemed even though we only shared two classes, I could never escape that… bishie.

Stepping out into the courtyard, I was met with a gust of wind that tore my hair back, forcing me to squint to find the girls where they sat by the wall. Fujiko had already sat down from what I could see, Kiku beside her in the center and Ayame to the left. I joined them in my place on the grass beside the picnic blanket, thankful that my presence went largely ignored as I opened the bento to peer inside.

Katou always had it prepared for me to the standards of some nutrition chart I couldn't remember the name of. Today was no different, and I once again lamented the lack of fatty meats while peeling open the hard boiled eggs and trying not to eat my own hair, which the wind clearly wanted me to do. Glancing over at Kiku's bento, (chicken curry, practically untouched, is that coconut sauce? Smells like it.) I was more than tempted to ask her if she planned on finishing it. Of course, I caught myself before I could say something that stupid, choosing instead to choke down the lightly sauteed broccoli and mushrooms, which were clearly made with unsalted butter. I mean just… ugh!

I realized after a while that the girls had no intention of bringing up my strange behavior again, which I was extremely thankful for. I could only apologize so many times, and blaming it on stress over and over again seemed like it would be a rude thing to say. They knew I shouldn't have anything to stress about. Too high-classed for stress, right?

I clenched my teeth, pushing down the bitterness that had accompanied the thoughts and trying to distract myself with school work. This, of course, worked about as well as a broken stoplight at an intersection, and immediately upon looking at the material for… English… my mood began to drop further.

I didn't understand a word of it still, except maybe the expletives I'd heard in passing on radio shows. The stupid language made no sense, and no matter who was speaking in it, it still sounded rough, stuttering and incomplete. I knew why we had to learn it by now, but like… wouldn't it make more sense to just make a new language that was easier for everyone to learn? Creating a new language had to be easier than learning this one.

It would obviously have to end with vowel sounds, but the words that end in 'f' and 'v' didn't sound too bad in English. I suppose maybe it wouldn't be so bad to change the sounds of some of the vowels to-

Nope!

I slammed the paper I had been writing on into the pages of the open English textbook. Even out here, away from all those prying eyes and the bodies so close I could feel the heat, smell the perfumes mixing and clashing in the air, even here I couldn't just focus.

One thing. Just one thing I wanted to do right. Was that too much to ask? If I could go the rest of the day without getting distracted and letting my thoughts run wild like a herd of cows, that would be amazing.

"What are you doing?" Ayame's scathing tone jerked me from my self-chastisement, and I lifted my hands in defense, facing the girls with a smile that was too wide, and too cheery.

"Ah, n-nothing! I thought… I saw a bug!" They stared, and it took me a moment to realize why all the staring that day had made me so uncomfortable. They never looked at me this much, or for this long. Quick glances and passing gazes were all I was accustomed to. It was weird now being the center of attention. Weird, and super awkward.

I kept my hands up. Not sure why I did, but the wind picked up again and tore the pages of the book away from their resting place. The loose leaf sheet spiraled into the air before being whisked away by the passing breeze. I almost gave chase, but I knew better. I knew I had to let go of the distraction if I really wanted things to go back to normal. I couldn't afford to chase after the imagination that I'd abandoned. I had worked too hard to beat it down.

But it was so cool though… I could practically hear it.

"I don't know what's gotten into you today," Kiku said quietly. If I didn't know better, I'd say she sounded almost sympathetic. "You're acting so strangely. Do you want attention?"

I opened my mouth to deny it, but again, I didn't get very far.

"You could probably pay someone to give you attention, I'll bet. You don't need to act this way when you can buy whatever you want."

I clenched my teeth so hard and so fast, I punched a hole through my tongue. Still, no more sounds escaped me. I knew if I let them out, I'd regret it. As blood pooled in my mouth, I thought to myself, in an offhand manner, that the pain was a pretty intense focus point. Eating only exacerbated the problem, and I found that as long as my tongue was gushing blood, I wasn't tempted to use it. It was a success, if unintentional.

Except, the success was sorta short-lived. Just because my tongue was too hurt to let me talk without a lisp, that didn't mean my body was going to follow suit and do the right thing. Class after boring freaking class, paperwork I would have otherwise turned in had to be trashed.

It wouldn't stop. Every time the pencil came in contact with anything even remotely paper-like, I'd have to scrap the whole sheet. It stung every time to see them disappear into the black bins. At some point, I just started stuffing them into my pockets. Of course, I corrected this once I realized what I was doing, tossing out the crinkled sheets. I could have kept them, if they didn't make so much noise. My father probably would have heard it.

Maybe it didn't matter if I paid attention or not. Their words were gibberish, names and dates and places completely unfamiliar to me floating around the classroom over everyone's lips but my own. I knew we must have covered the material at some point if everyone else knew what was going on. My grades were bad, sure, but I at least knew what book we were reading for literature! At least, I used to. Poems, I think it was. A book of really old poems.

"Tokagemaru-San, please recite passage 16 of book one, without reference if you can."

I couldn't. I stared at the page even as I stood up on shaky legs to read. Pressing the pages down, my hands gripped the edges of the desk for extra support. I began to recite, feeling like I was being drowned out by the blood rushing through my ears. How was the blood rushing if my heart wasn't beating? I remembered basic biology at least so-

'Focus!'

"B-Buried by winter,
When spring comes to pass,"- I gulped, clearing my throat.

"The silent
Birds burst into song;
The bloomless
Blossoms- er, Flowers burst out, but…
The mountains are so lush,
One cannot make... one's way;
The grasses are so th-thick,
An outstretched hand is lost;" I finished the sentence hurriedly. I closed my eyes and took a breath, reading a little further for a second so I wouldn't make mistakes on the last part.

"On an autumn mountain,
One sees trees' leaves:
The yellow leaves,
To take for a keepsake;
Green ones
To leave behind in sorrow,
Though I hate to do it:
It's the autumn mountains for me!"

I let loose a sigh, sliding back down into my seat with about as much grace as a newborn deer. The teacher, whose name I didn't quite care enough at the time to remember, lifted a disapproving brow. I managed a weak smile, but inside, I was gnashing my teeth like a caged animal in a zoo.

What more do you want from me? I read your stupid poem, just let me catch my breath in peace!

She eventually looked away, moving on to her next victim, and I was allowed just a moment where I was not pinned under a heavy gaze. Though I was tempted to look out the window to alleviate at least some of my boredom, I would have to look through or around a bunch of other students to do so. It was the boring blank chalk board for me, an ugly slate grey-green sort of hue. The faded ghosts of words from the previous week still clung in white outlines to the surface. If I squinted, I could make out actually legible sentences.

It looked like we were supposed to memorize our poems over the weekend… whoops.

To be fair, I was a little preoccupied. And what did it matter anyways? Were the poems really that important? What were we supposed to learn from them? Some edo-era princess preferred autumn over spring, big deal! I could relate, but that's whatever. The point was, it was totally useless to me, even if it sounded pretty, and would probably make a really nice song.

I shook my head, breaking that train of thought before it started and trying to put my attention on the teacher as she moved around the room. To my surprise, she was smiling, but not at me. Never at me. I wasn't dumb enough to ever expect that anyways. Still though, I thought she only ever had one expression: Bitchy.

"Minamino-San, do you have your poems prepared?" She asked. I almost groaned, because of course she was talking to Minamino. Plus she didn't just talk, she asked. Asked, not telling him to do something, but asking if he even wanted to! Wasn't preferential treatment, like, against school policy or something? I get that the guy had some problems, but come on! Enough is enough! Stupid… spoiled Minamino. Teachers Pet Minamino. Top-of-the-class, best grades in the whole school, least available heartthrob, Perfect Minamino.

Jerk.

"Yes, Sensei," the damned red-head replied, rising smoothly and steadily, like speaking in front of the entire class was no issue for him at all. Of course it wasn't. He was perfect, after all. Nothing bothered him, not even the carnivorous looks he would get from girls who were bold enough to openly ogle him. Of course today, that happened to be the entire class. I realized why as he finished up the first of his three tanka.

"The maidens'
Sleeves wave from the mount:
Where shrine walls,
From times long past
Have I thought of you."

Romance poems… ugh! My nose wrinkled while his smooth voice carried on. I could just feel the female populace of the room salivating. Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if some of the crushing tension was from a few of the guys. Then again, it could just have been from that dorky guy in the back, probably staring daggers at Perfect Minamino like he always did. I think he rode my train back to Mushiyori… gah, can't remember his name right now.

"To the summer fields go
The stags, with antlers
Only stubs;
My darling's heart:
Have I thought of you."

How someone could sound so wistful and sad when they were saying such dumb, sappy things was beyond me. I was never a gifted actress. I knew that. I was sorta reminded of that every day when the simplest of excuses would get caught in my throat and choke me up to the point where I couldn't even breathe around them.

But Minamino, Perfect Minamino, could play the part of a lovesick feudal lord without trouble. He could put so much emotion into the words, the girls in class would swoon with the thought that maybe, just maybe, he was speaking to them. He could fill them with hope, and adoration, and that hormone-driven teenage lust with just a look, let alone with some words spoken in a slow, almost sensual way.

"Jewelled robes
Rustling deep within,
And in the house, my darling:
Without a word, I come to her
Unable to bear this longing."

Was that even appropriate for school!? Ugh! He could get away with anything. Good actors could get away with murder if they smiled at the right teacher in the right way. It didn't matter that the moment he finished, in the spaces between the nearly silent sighing and the hearts bursting with the collective infatuation, he would sit back down, and the emotion would immediately leave his face.

A polite smile, a falsely sheepish bow of the head and a murmur of thanks was all the depth that remained after the recitation. And let me say, it wasn't very deep. His placid exterior was just that: perfectly composed and expertly sculpted, just like the rest of him. All that visceral feeling behind his words was just a memory for the girls to latch onto, to project onto him whenever they wanted. He was like a movie star, or an actor, turning on this arousing character as easily as flipping a light switch.

Another word for actor was liar. And he did it way too easily.

That head of impossibly scarlet hair turned ever so slightly, more of his pale, angular face on display. His eyes found mind instantaneously, emeralds shining brightly from the corner of his vision several seats away. He knew, somehow, that I had been watching him. I think I surprised us both when I didn't immediately look away, holding his silent curiosity a moment with my own glare before tearing my gaze away with a light scoff.

Jerk.

He didn't care… why did no one else see that? He was just a fake! A pretty fake, I'll give him that. I'd still kill to have hair like his…

I blinked. I hummed quietly to myself. I… could I have hair like his? I mean, if I could make my hair look normal again just by thinking about it, and then give it volume with just a few touches, who's to say I couldn't make it red? Or my eyes! I could make them any color I wanted!

Come to think of it, the yellow they were in the mornings wasn't actually that bad. It was nice, like the glow of fireflies or paper lanterns floating above crystal clear ponds. They were nicer than the dead-leaf color that my eyes were normally. It was worse than just plain brown, it was ugly brown. At least I could compare plain brown to chocolate, or fresh dug garden soil, or, like, a brown bear. But dead leaves was just… it was as lifeless as I used to feel. I used to be okay with the color. Maybe that was why.

Class ended before I knew it, but as I made my way to the door, I happened to catch the teachers eye, her mouth opening to call out something. Probably my name. She closed her mouth, motioning for me to come to her desk, and with a sigh I complied. My face tightened into the best approximation of an innocent smile I could manage, but her severely unimpressed frown made the expression way harder to maintain.

"Tokagemaru, you didn't hand in your analysis of the poem you selected. Care to explain?" As though reminding me that I was the one who chose that poem (I literally just opened the book to a random page, I'm pretty sure) was going to make me feel any more guilty, she raised both brows in silent expectation.

"I had a… really eventful weekend," I explained slowly, because I knew if I tried to say it too fast, I would stumble over the words. "I forgot about the assignment." Along with every other homework assignment from every other class… She scowled, and I ducked my head so she wouldn't see how my face contorted into a painful glare.

"Seems you were the only one who managed that. What was so important that you couldn't be bothered to memorize even a word of it? From the way you were reading, I'd say you never even opened the book."

"It's personal," I blurted, my eyes catching sight of something red on the corner of the desk. I blinked, focusing on it even as she continued to berate me. It was shiny and reflective, a wedge of silver under the large curved piece of red plastic with a black contrasting the light brown of the wooden desk.

A stapler.

"-you don't step up and participate, at least in the homework, I'll have to talk to the school board about the possibility of you staying back this year. Is that understood?" I blinked and tore my eyes away from the very distracting tool and bowed even more deeply, my hands clasped in front of me.

"Yes, Ma'am. I'll work harder, I promise." I heard her turn away to talk to someone else, and I straightened after a moment. The stapler was once again in my line of sight, and I remembered suddenly how convenient it would have been to staple my papers together. The heavier the stack, the harder it would be for the wind to steal my work from me. It was in my hand quite suddenly, my other hand moving to open my bag. I vaguely remembered that I didn't actually have anything to staple at the moment, since I'd thrown everything away…

I'll do it later, I decided, stowing the stapler in its proper place and securing the strap of my school case. The office supply was a somewhat awkward shape, making closing the bag a little more difficult. The corners jutted out and poked my leg as I walked, but it didn't look too out of place. In any case, I could just stow my bag in my locker until the end of school, so there was no risk of the thing being damaged or lost.

Free period, I decided I would at least try to memorize that princess poem. Reading the lines over and over wasn't nearly as bad as learning other things. It wasn't meaningless numbers, it wasn't ugly English, and it wasn't complicated historical events. It was like listening to a song over and over again until the lyrics were stuck in your head for weeks. It was kinda catchy, to be honest. The more I read it, the more I liked it, even if it was totally useless. The fact that the author was trying to settle an argument with it just made the verses that much more impactful.

I could see her in her expensive robes, her hair undone and flowing behind her like a black silk curtain as she lounged comfortably with the emperor and lord. The emperor would ask the silly question, spring or fall, to the lord. The princess would laugh delicately, thinking on it a moment and letting the lord answer. He probably preferred spring, hence why she would reply to the contrary. And her delivery of her position would be so superior, so eloquent, and so sure, that both men would have no choice but to agree with her. She would give a dainty smile, only a little bit prideful, and tilt her head in that modest way that princesses did.

And her robes would be a bold sunrise red.

I don't remember bidding Kiku and the others goodbye before I left. I doubt they really noticed I was gone anyways, which was fine. The less they noticed me, the better. It would be easier to slip back into anonymity that way…

But was that what I really wanted?

'Of course! If I'm not normal, I'm odd, and odd means undesirable,' that weak voice reminded me, and I hummed in thought.

Yeah, I know that, but-

'No. I can't do this! All my hard work trying to be normal is going to waste. I'm forgetting how to act, I'm forgetting the class material, it's all starting to make people suspicious! Now more than ever, I need to appear as normal as possible. I have to.'

A quiet breath left me, my eyes finding the window of the train. The bright reds and yellows outside had yet to grow less enchanting than they were this morning. That morning, they had reflected the sunlight as though trying to share the warmth and their beauty with the world. Now in the afternoon light, they appeared darker like living fire, candles dying as they clung to the branches with the last of their strength.

Words came to me, unbidden, with a voice soft and joyful.

On an autumn mountain,
One sees trees' leaves:
The yellow leaves,
To take for a keepsake;
Green ones
To leave behind in sorrow,
Though I hate to do it:
It's the autumn mountains for me!

My lips curled into a smile. Unlike the princess, I don't hate to do it. The green can stay behind in memory and never appear again for all I care. If autumn could stay forever, I'd probably be much happier on a day-to-day basis.

I leaned back with a smile, happening to glance off somewhere into the throng of magenta and cherry red uniforms. It was with a vague feeling of satisfaction that I realized I was right, and the dorky-looking guy was riding the train back to the same stop I was. His nose was buried in a book, which I'm pretty certain was normal. Then again, I couldn't really be sure. I'd never spared my fellow students more than a passing glance, and they afforded me the same treatment.

I stood the moment the train stopped, stepping off before the rest of the tightly packed throng and starting off towards home. I wasn't quite sure why I was walking so quickly, but something in the back of my head was telling me to hurry, that I had somewhere to be, something to do. The stapler in my bag was jabbing the small of my back, a stern reminder of the work I had yet to complete. So many abandoned pages, but there was something… lurking in the darkest corner of my mind. It wouldn't show itself until it had taken form, but I knew it was there. It was coming to me, and that alone filled me with so much excitement.

My pace quickened.

I was almost skipping when I entered into the breezeway, remembering just in time to switch out my walking shoes with the indoor slippers. Seeing the brown umbrella hung up beside the hook where my red cardigan went, I knew immediately that my father was home.

All at once, nerves twitched in my fingers and throat, my skin itching and muscles jumping as I prepared myself for the encounter. I breathed deeply, levering the satchel off my shoulder and stepping through the sliding door.

He was waiting in the kitchen for me, a steaming mug of coffee just within reach behind an assorted pile of paperwork. I'm sure he knew where everything was, but to me, it just looked like an uncoordinated mess. There had to be a more sensible way to organize things. Didn't he know about color-coding?

'Don't be rude,' the voice snapped suddenly, and I frowned internally.

I'm in my own head! He can't hear me!

"What are you doing?"

I snapped to attention, realizing I hadn't moved from my spot for several seconds. I shook myself out of my stupor, forcing my suddenly jelly-like legs to carry me closer to him.

"I'm sorry, Father. I was thinking… about my literature assignment," I said with eyes as innocent as I could make them. I'm not sure why I bothered trying. Maybe if I just said things without thinking… nah, that could only lead to more trouble. I approached, offering my bag with a nervous smile. He considered it for a moment, then me. His gaze was critical, like he was trying to see something from very far off. There was a nod, and a glimmer of something… weird in his eyes.

"It isn't the worst of your subjects to focus on," he finally admitted, and my unbeaten heart nearly soared. "It is a step on the road to more worthy pursuits. Be sure you move down that path quickly."

I nodded emphatically, watching his hands as they dug around my school books, taking everything out one item at a time. It was inevitable that he would come to the stapler, and his eyes showed the most emotion I'd seen in a long time. The depth of his surprised confusion was almost funny. … Okay, maybe it was just short of hilarious, and I was almost too nervous to keep the laughter inside.

"What…" he paused, then corrected himself. "Why do you have this?"

"For my assignment," I blurted with a large smile. I had been thinking about how to explain this, so finally getting to say the words I had planned was like executing a genius plan that would win some great war. "I didn't have one, and I didn't think you had one, so I borrowed it from school to keep all my papers together."

He raised a brow, lowering his hand with the stapler in it while giving me a probing look.

"You have paperclips," he informed me calmly, and I swallowed a nervous giggle.

"They… fall… off?"

His expression was blank, and I cleared my throat in the silence to make the sudden quiet tension just a little less awkward.

"I see," he finally responded, his expression betraying nothing. The moment after that seemed to last, like, for at least a minute. It was with a huge (internal) sigh of relief that I watched him place everything back into my bag, including my brand new stapler.

"Get to work," he instructed, and it took all my lingering self control not to run up the stairs. I took them at a sedated pace, one at a time with steady and consistent steps. I made it to my room at the end of the hall, managing somehow not to slam the door. I stood on the inner side of the door, staring straight ahead with the biggest, stupidest grin on my face.

"Not a good liar, huh?" I muttered to myself, feeling triumphant, but not so confident in my recent deceit that I would risk speaking above a whisper. Jittery with the adrenaline rush of having won… something for once, I dropped the bag onto the pink comforter of my bed. I didn't remember making it that morning. Must have been Katou, bless her.

I took a steadying breath, sitting down against the pillows and pulling out the things I would need. Two books joined me outside the bag. One was a random text book with a surface big enough to fit a normal sized sheet of paper. The second was the Manyōshū, the page held in place with the staplers weight. It was open to the poem, the words smiling up at me with the serene eyes of Princess Nukata. The back of a math sheet that I had no intention of completing was blank, the perfect canvass for what I wanted… what I needed to do.

My work had only just begun, the image finally emerging from the darkest corners of my mind, manifesting, exploding with vibrant color, sound bleeding into my ears like a hallucination. I didn't care if I was crazy. It was better to be crazy in the solitude of my bedroom. That way, I could pretend all I wanted to outside that I was normal. Inside, I could be whatever I wanted, as long as they saw what I wanted them to see.

Smiling, I brought the pencil to the white page.

Office Space, anyone? The stapler bit has been planned since the inception of this character, and it has been basically the only element of her to survive the first draft. I had fun with it, as I do with most things. On a side note, you ever have those days where everything inspires you? Ever been so emotionally unstable that the only way you can accurately convey your feelings is through various grunts, groans and growls? Ever suddenly decided on a whim that you need to lie?

I wanted to convey all these days and group them into one. People are complex, and people who have recently undergone trauma will be even more complex, especially as they try to work through things. Be ready for things to heat up in the next two chapters. I have... things planned that I just thought of tonight. It's better than the original plan, I'll tell you that.

For those of you waiting on Choosing Weakness to update, it will be another month at least while I get Midoriko here caught up. In story time, it's three days until she enters the grand story, probably two, maybe three chapters. Depends on how I want to approach this. I might take it a day at a time. The next chapter of CW is ready to go, at the very least, so send me your good vibes!

Meow for now!