"Berokunta, what is that?!" asked Ms. White in an ominous tone.
"Whu?" Aki looked up from her math binder.
The teacher swept across the room like a sickly phantom, and towered over Aki. Sure, Aki had been taking notes, but couldn't help doodling a perfect replica of her favorite Naruto character, Kakashi. Now there was a teacher she could admire, even if he was fictional. Not like the crappy ones in her crappy high school, except, of course, for Mr.Sukon, her English teacher. She went head over heels when she first saw him. At least he was real...
"See me after class, Berokunta." Ms. White turned on her heel sharply, her disgust wafting in the room.
Everyone in the classroom snickered at the fact that 16- year old Akiosu Berokunta had been told off again. She had always been the baseball in their game of popularity. Everyone, except her closest ring of friends, had swung as hard as they could with the Bat of Rejection, and all had hit home runs. As more came up to the plate, the lacing that had once kept the new baseball together started coming undone. She had always been rejected in her school social life, ever since she was four. No one, not even the doctors she went to, could understand the skin condition she had. Every time she looked at her lizard- like hands, images from her memories flashed in her mind, and that one question always lingered in her mind: why?
She guessed that's why she could relate to Naruto, or Inu- Yasha in her other manga books that lay scattered about her room. Always outcasts, always rejected, always misunderstood, always DIFFERENT. But, they lived IN SPITE of their difference, something she could not accomplish.
She glared at her binder as the minutes monotonously ticked by. When the bell finally rang, she gathered her artbooks, her manga, her herb books (she was always interested in what plants cured what, though she never wanted to be a doctor), and raced to the door. Just when her fingertips touched the knob, her teacher called her name.
"Berokunta?" Ms. White arms were akimbo, and she looked as though she swallowed a lemon.
Aki felt as though she was going up against an army sergeant. She sighed, gritted her teeth, and turned around. "Yes, Ms. White?" She wanted to roll her eyes, but didn't want to sink into deeper trouble.
"What is happening with your math grades? You're ignoring homework, you barely pass tests, and you're in another world when I'm trying to teach." Each finger she ticked off on her hand rose Aki's level of annoyance.
Why couldn't she realize that math was USELESS!? Of course, that would mean the math apostle would be useless as well, something Aki did NOT want to mention in the heat of the moment.
Aki wanted to nod in agreement to her teacher's last remark, but that wouldn't help her one bit.
"I've been...busy," she said, not looking into her teacher's eyes.
"Well, I'm sorry, Aki, but I have to call home, and sign you up for extra help three days a week."
"What?! You can't be serious!" Aki protested, her eyes wide.
"I am. Very serious. Now go, you'll be late for class."
Aki knew it would be no use fighting, so she left the classroom, her anger soaring.
She'd always suspected that most of her teachers hated her because she was so great at some subjects. Now, she was falling behind in Social Studies, too. So what? A grade's a grade.
It won't follow her to her grave, unlike the teasing that would always stay with her, even after death. And, like a contagious disease, would spread from days, to weeks, to months, and onto years before the pain would stop ebbing away at her.
"Hey, Crusty Bitch!" called Corona, leader of her own clique.
"Hey, Slut." Replied Aki, still walking.
"Uh! Ex-CUUUSE me!" she retorted, moving her head like a snake's.
"What, trying to get your next job? Who you gonna blow this time?"
Though hearing those words come from her mouth sounded satisfying, each syllable pained her greatly.
"Bitch."
"Whore."
"Crusty Slut."
"Pervert!"
"Freak! Bitch! Crusty- Asshole!"
That string of words in the hallway was Aki's noose for the day. Each letter made the grip tighter around her aching heart. Her only solace was her company of manga and artbooks, but even they fell victim to the "Aristocrats" of the school.
Many times, Aki fell sick from this relived horror, and was growing up a little paranoid. Whenever there was a new kid in town, she would keep away in fear that they would make fun of her, too. When she saw the new kids hang out with the wrong people, she labeled them instantly as enemies.
Thank God or whoever it was Tuesday: that was her writing workshop class. She LOVED to go there every Tuesday, and sometimes Friday. It was at her future high school, and there, her troubles just melted away. She felt accepted, and even dared to have a crush on a sophomore named Kenji.
She left the workshop at four o' clock with her heart lighter than feathers. She was laughing so joyously as if the world had turned a different face for her that she didn't notice her mother's face when she slipped into the car. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Aki was sobbing in her pillow when the sun had set. Her parents had gotten the phone call, and had taken away all forms of communication and entertainment. She got into a hyperactive rage when they said she couldn't have her manga or her artbooks. It didn't help, but feed the flames. Now she was locked up in her room, with nothing or no one except her black kitten, Karma.
"It's not fair, Karma!" whined Aki, petting her, "Why is it me? Why am I the one always punished? Why am I so DIFFERENT?!"
Sniffing, she reached between her mattresses to uncover a hidden Naruto manga, and turned to an attractive- looking Kakashi.
"Can you help me?" she said, tears still streaming down her cheeks.
Yeah, sure, Kakashi was a little pervey, but Aki could live with that, though she always wondered what was in that book of his. Heck, that part of his psyche is what made him so lovable! At least to Aki, but then again, she never really met him before.
Surrendering to her tears, she let the open book drop on her face, covering it.
Hell would have been a vacation spot for Aki compared to a new school week. She had somehow, though, snuck her artbooks out of her home, and taken them to school with her. They were he only sources of sanity left.
When lunch came, she ate nothing, but when to the bathroom stalls. She took out a rumpled handkerchief, and unraveled it to reveal a shaving razor. She stared at its brilliance as she let it glimmer in the fluorescent lights of the bathrooms. Gingerly picking up from her lap, she let the blade rest on her wrist. She hesitated, giving second thoughts. Before she could sink the blade into her flesh, the bell rung.
Talk about being saved by the bell.
Her mother had been wondering why the bathtub had been pink for some time. Aki had been secretly cutting her shins with the razor, but left not trance of it ever being done, except for the blood that didn't wash out.
"Pain has no shape, size or color," She wrote once her diary, "Just a presence."
One night, she pulled out her Naruto comic, and stared at Kakashi.
(No, this is not the answer.)
"Then, what is?" she asked his smiling picture.
(You must discover it on your own.)
Of course that would be the logical sentence coming from him. Duh! Aki, for some reason, didn't feel very comfortable with the picture she was looking at; his eyes seemed to have been lowered down a bit, as if he was looking at something else on Aki.
The weeks dragged on like a dead corpse. School was horrible, her grades were slipping faster that wet soap, and she started to become bitter and anti- social. No light seemed to be shining from the tunnel, until one Wednesday, her art teacher had pulled her over from class as they were leaving.
"Aki? I have something to ask you."
"Shoot." She said, waiting for his question.
"How would you like to enter the New York State Anime Fan Art Contest?"
Aki couldn't believe her ears.
"R-really?" she stammered, smiling.
"Of course. I've seen how much you love to draw anime, and I found this contest ad while looking up class material. I instantly thought of you, and thought it would be a great idea for you to be our school representative."
"T-thanks!" she said, totally blown away by this offer.
This was it! This was the hope she had been looking for in her life! She was gonna beat them all! She loved to draw more than anything in the world. She guarded her artbooks like a mother tiger protecting her cubs.
As night fell, she sat at her drawing desk, throwing crumpled sheet after crumpled sheet of paper, trying to get the picture right. She finally realized what she wanted to draw just wasn't coming, so she relied on the only character that she had an epiphany for: Kakashi. Picking up her mechanical pencil (those were the ONLY pencils she used when drawing), and taking a sheet of computer paper, she started drawing away, using her manga as a reference to his hair and the ripple of his clothes.
Within an hour, she had the pencil outline of her picture. It was Kakashi standing in the middle with his hands in the Tiger Seal. In one hand, an unraveled scroll snaked around his body, blood smeared on some of the writing, and in the other was a kunai dripping a little bit of blood. In the background was a giant close- up version of his Sharingan Eye. In an invisible triad, the three types of chakra- fighting in their Japanese form surrounded him: Genjutsu, Ninjutsu and Taijutsu. Blue smoke circled his ankles as he stood on a Japanese dragon.
She started to outline her masterpiece, adding color as she went. Before it was done, Aki had given into her little temptation, and drew a tiny copy of Make Out Paradise sticking out of his vest, but so that only those who were observant could see the joke. When it was midnight, she had finished her creation, and created a scan so that she could look at it whenever she wanted because this contest would keep the original artwork.
She went to bed with victory in her mind. The contest was only a week away, her anticipation growing.
Saturday came like a prophesied vision. She got dressed up in her most humanly animeic clothing she could find, and did her hair in many small braids in different areas of her scalp. Gathering up her winning picture, CD player and artbooks, she got into her mother's car.
The contest was held in the Bronx, so it took them an hour to make it to the hall where it was being held. She walked in with a prideful stride, and signed her name on the competition sheet. She glanced at the other names and saw, with shock, Corona's name. What the hell was she doing here?! No, matter; she couldn't draw for her life. Aki walked into the giant hall where other participants were sitting at long tables. Aki sat down, and started to make friends, talking about animes such as Rurouni Kenshin, Inu- Yasha, and other top charters. The artwork papers were stacked in a neat pile by a podium, and Aki watched every few minutes as they went through the papers one by one. Corona was talking in that surly, sassy voice of hers, a look of arrogance on her face.
Aki shook her head, and continued chatting. After an hour went by, the head judge called for silence. Tentative eyes focused on him.
"Welcome, and thank you all for participating in the I- Con New York State Anime Fan Art Contest! We had such a difficult time trying to decide who's came out on top, but all of them deserved first place."
This caused cheers from the kids.
"Now, to name the winners of this years contest." He said, taking out a pair of glasses to read the names.
It felt like the Golden Globe awards; the person opening up the envelope, reading the name heartily, and the explosions of cheers from the crowds as the excited person came to the podium with hysteria.
"In third place, for drawing Piccolo from DBZ is...Jason Luson!"
Cheers rang from the hall as a scrawny boy with a mushroom haircut came up to receive a blue ribbon, a hundred dollar certificate for any anime merchandize, and his fan art.
"In second place, for drawing the entire cast of Inu- Yasha is...Rebecca Crysti!"
Thunderous clapping filled the room as an attractive- looking teenager with long cherrywood hair came up to receive a silver ribbon, a hundred- and- fifty certificate, and her artwork.
Aki's heart was pounding with apprehension.
"Please pick me...PLEASE!!" she thought, biting her lower lip.
"And finally, in first place, for drawing an amazing picture of Kakashi from Naruto is..."
Aki thought she would faint.
"Corona Stalitzi!"
"Whu?" Aki looked up from her math binder.
The teacher swept across the room like a sickly phantom, and towered over Aki. Sure, Aki had been taking notes, but couldn't help doodling a perfect replica of her favorite Naruto character, Kakashi. Now there was a teacher she could admire, even if he was fictional. Not like the crappy ones in her crappy high school, except, of course, for Mr.Sukon, her English teacher. She went head over heels when she first saw him. At least he was real...
"See me after class, Berokunta." Ms. White turned on her heel sharply, her disgust wafting in the room.
Everyone in the classroom snickered at the fact that 16- year old Akiosu Berokunta had been told off again. She had always been the baseball in their game of popularity. Everyone, except her closest ring of friends, had swung as hard as they could with the Bat of Rejection, and all had hit home runs. As more came up to the plate, the lacing that had once kept the new baseball together started coming undone. She had always been rejected in her school social life, ever since she was four. No one, not even the doctors she went to, could understand the skin condition she had. Every time she looked at her lizard- like hands, images from her memories flashed in her mind, and that one question always lingered in her mind: why?
She guessed that's why she could relate to Naruto, or Inu- Yasha in her other manga books that lay scattered about her room. Always outcasts, always rejected, always misunderstood, always DIFFERENT. But, they lived IN SPITE of their difference, something she could not accomplish.
She glared at her binder as the minutes monotonously ticked by. When the bell finally rang, she gathered her artbooks, her manga, her herb books (she was always interested in what plants cured what, though she never wanted to be a doctor), and raced to the door. Just when her fingertips touched the knob, her teacher called her name.
"Berokunta?" Ms. White arms were akimbo, and she looked as though she swallowed a lemon.
Aki felt as though she was going up against an army sergeant. She sighed, gritted her teeth, and turned around. "Yes, Ms. White?" She wanted to roll her eyes, but didn't want to sink into deeper trouble.
"What is happening with your math grades? You're ignoring homework, you barely pass tests, and you're in another world when I'm trying to teach." Each finger she ticked off on her hand rose Aki's level of annoyance.
Why couldn't she realize that math was USELESS!? Of course, that would mean the math apostle would be useless as well, something Aki did NOT want to mention in the heat of the moment.
Aki wanted to nod in agreement to her teacher's last remark, but that wouldn't help her one bit.
"I've been...busy," she said, not looking into her teacher's eyes.
"Well, I'm sorry, Aki, but I have to call home, and sign you up for extra help three days a week."
"What?! You can't be serious!" Aki protested, her eyes wide.
"I am. Very serious. Now go, you'll be late for class."
Aki knew it would be no use fighting, so she left the classroom, her anger soaring.
She'd always suspected that most of her teachers hated her because she was so great at some subjects. Now, she was falling behind in Social Studies, too. So what? A grade's a grade.
It won't follow her to her grave, unlike the teasing that would always stay with her, even after death. And, like a contagious disease, would spread from days, to weeks, to months, and onto years before the pain would stop ebbing away at her.
"Hey, Crusty Bitch!" called Corona, leader of her own clique.
"Hey, Slut." Replied Aki, still walking.
"Uh! Ex-CUUUSE me!" she retorted, moving her head like a snake's.
"What, trying to get your next job? Who you gonna blow this time?"
Though hearing those words come from her mouth sounded satisfying, each syllable pained her greatly.
"Bitch."
"Whore."
"Crusty Slut."
"Pervert!"
"Freak! Bitch! Crusty- Asshole!"
That string of words in the hallway was Aki's noose for the day. Each letter made the grip tighter around her aching heart. Her only solace was her company of manga and artbooks, but even they fell victim to the "Aristocrats" of the school.
Many times, Aki fell sick from this relived horror, and was growing up a little paranoid. Whenever there was a new kid in town, she would keep away in fear that they would make fun of her, too. When she saw the new kids hang out with the wrong people, she labeled them instantly as enemies.
Thank God or whoever it was Tuesday: that was her writing workshop class. She LOVED to go there every Tuesday, and sometimes Friday. It was at her future high school, and there, her troubles just melted away. She felt accepted, and even dared to have a crush on a sophomore named Kenji.
She left the workshop at four o' clock with her heart lighter than feathers. She was laughing so joyously as if the world had turned a different face for her that she didn't notice her mother's face when she slipped into the car. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Aki was sobbing in her pillow when the sun had set. Her parents had gotten the phone call, and had taken away all forms of communication and entertainment. She got into a hyperactive rage when they said she couldn't have her manga or her artbooks. It didn't help, but feed the flames. Now she was locked up in her room, with nothing or no one except her black kitten, Karma.
"It's not fair, Karma!" whined Aki, petting her, "Why is it me? Why am I the one always punished? Why am I so DIFFERENT?!"
Sniffing, she reached between her mattresses to uncover a hidden Naruto manga, and turned to an attractive- looking Kakashi.
"Can you help me?" she said, tears still streaming down her cheeks.
Yeah, sure, Kakashi was a little pervey, but Aki could live with that, though she always wondered what was in that book of his. Heck, that part of his psyche is what made him so lovable! At least to Aki, but then again, she never really met him before.
Surrendering to her tears, she let the open book drop on her face, covering it.
Hell would have been a vacation spot for Aki compared to a new school week. She had somehow, though, snuck her artbooks out of her home, and taken them to school with her. They were he only sources of sanity left.
When lunch came, she ate nothing, but when to the bathroom stalls. She took out a rumpled handkerchief, and unraveled it to reveal a shaving razor. She stared at its brilliance as she let it glimmer in the fluorescent lights of the bathrooms. Gingerly picking up from her lap, she let the blade rest on her wrist. She hesitated, giving second thoughts. Before she could sink the blade into her flesh, the bell rung.
Talk about being saved by the bell.
Her mother had been wondering why the bathtub had been pink for some time. Aki had been secretly cutting her shins with the razor, but left not trance of it ever being done, except for the blood that didn't wash out.
"Pain has no shape, size or color," She wrote once her diary, "Just a presence."
One night, she pulled out her Naruto comic, and stared at Kakashi.
(No, this is not the answer.)
"Then, what is?" she asked his smiling picture.
(You must discover it on your own.)
Of course that would be the logical sentence coming from him. Duh! Aki, for some reason, didn't feel very comfortable with the picture she was looking at; his eyes seemed to have been lowered down a bit, as if he was looking at something else on Aki.
The weeks dragged on like a dead corpse. School was horrible, her grades were slipping faster that wet soap, and she started to become bitter and anti- social. No light seemed to be shining from the tunnel, until one Wednesday, her art teacher had pulled her over from class as they were leaving.
"Aki? I have something to ask you."
"Shoot." She said, waiting for his question.
"How would you like to enter the New York State Anime Fan Art Contest?"
Aki couldn't believe her ears.
"R-really?" she stammered, smiling.
"Of course. I've seen how much you love to draw anime, and I found this contest ad while looking up class material. I instantly thought of you, and thought it would be a great idea for you to be our school representative."
"T-thanks!" she said, totally blown away by this offer.
This was it! This was the hope she had been looking for in her life! She was gonna beat them all! She loved to draw more than anything in the world. She guarded her artbooks like a mother tiger protecting her cubs.
As night fell, she sat at her drawing desk, throwing crumpled sheet after crumpled sheet of paper, trying to get the picture right. She finally realized what she wanted to draw just wasn't coming, so she relied on the only character that she had an epiphany for: Kakashi. Picking up her mechanical pencil (those were the ONLY pencils she used when drawing), and taking a sheet of computer paper, she started drawing away, using her manga as a reference to his hair and the ripple of his clothes.
Within an hour, she had the pencil outline of her picture. It was Kakashi standing in the middle with his hands in the Tiger Seal. In one hand, an unraveled scroll snaked around his body, blood smeared on some of the writing, and in the other was a kunai dripping a little bit of blood. In the background was a giant close- up version of his Sharingan Eye. In an invisible triad, the three types of chakra- fighting in their Japanese form surrounded him: Genjutsu, Ninjutsu and Taijutsu. Blue smoke circled his ankles as he stood on a Japanese dragon.
She started to outline her masterpiece, adding color as she went. Before it was done, Aki had given into her little temptation, and drew a tiny copy of Make Out Paradise sticking out of his vest, but so that only those who were observant could see the joke. When it was midnight, she had finished her creation, and created a scan so that she could look at it whenever she wanted because this contest would keep the original artwork.
She went to bed with victory in her mind. The contest was only a week away, her anticipation growing.
Saturday came like a prophesied vision. She got dressed up in her most humanly animeic clothing she could find, and did her hair in many small braids in different areas of her scalp. Gathering up her winning picture, CD player and artbooks, she got into her mother's car.
The contest was held in the Bronx, so it took them an hour to make it to the hall where it was being held. She walked in with a prideful stride, and signed her name on the competition sheet. She glanced at the other names and saw, with shock, Corona's name. What the hell was she doing here?! No, matter; she couldn't draw for her life. Aki walked into the giant hall where other participants were sitting at long tables. Aki sat down, and started to make friends, talking about animes such as Rurouni Kenshin, Inu- Yasha, and other top charters. The artwork papers were stacked in a neat pile by a podium, and Aki watched every few minutes as they went through the papers one by one. Corona was talking in that surly, sassy voice of hers, a look of arrogance on her face.
Aki shook her head, and continued chatting. After an hour went by, the head judge called for silence. Tentative eyes focused on him.
"Welcome, and thank you all for participating in the I- Con New York State Anime Fan Art Contest! We had such a difficult time trying to decide who's came out on top, but all of them deserved first place."
This caused cheers from the kids.
"Now, to name the winners of this years contest." He said, taking out a pair of glasses to read the names.
It felt like the Golden Globe awards; the person opening up the envelope, reading the name heartily, and the explosions of cheers from the crowds as the excited person came to the podium with hysteria.
"In third place, for drawing Piccolo from DBZ is...Jason Luson!"
Cheers rang from the hall as a scrawny boy with a mushroom haircut came up to receive a blue ribbon, a hundred dollar certificate for any anime merchandize, and his fan art.
"In second place, for drawing the entire cast of Inu- Yasha is...Rebecca Crysti!"
Thunderous clapping filled the room as an attractive- looking teenager with long cherrywood hair came up to receive a silver ribbon, a hundred- and- fifty certificate, and her artwork.
Aki's heart was pounding with apprehension.
"Please pick me...PLEASE!!" she thought, biting her lower lip.
"And finally, in first place, for drawing an amazing picture of Kakashi from Naruto is..."
Aki thought she would faint.
"Corona Stalitzi!"