I remember it as though it were yesterday. Well, maybe the day before yesterday. Or possibly last week. The year was 2047. There had been many natural disasters around the year 2000: America...hit by a dozen tornadoes at once, England, flooded to the brim, Australia suffering a major heat wave. Those were the minor events. However, through all of Mother Nature’s fury, my beloved Japan remained untouched and safe from harm. A miracle we were spared? Who knows. All I know is that some time after the disasters had reeked havoc on the earth, and its wounds were cleaned, people went back to the normal way of life. That is if you could consider your new surroundings normal.
Although it was 47 years after the disasters, different parts of the world never changed. South America has somehow caught the backwash of England’s floods, and transformed into a floating jungle land, parts of Africa became a frozen wasteland creating a small ski resort, and Australia’s intense heat suddenly turned it into a large tourist spot. As a result of the terrifying flood, England was infested with puddles. No matter where you went there were at least 3 puddles in your way, and maybe even a newly formed lake nearby. Whether it had just rained or there had been no rain for a week, there were tiny pools of water staring back at you. Enough about the world and it’s past, on with my story.
I was formerly a student at Victorian High School in England, and not a very good one at that. Yes, I got excellent grades most of the time (that being the reason why I was in England anyway) but I was NOT well behaved. Oh no, not by a long shot. I was wonderfully intelligent, but I was also the biggest tomboy, bully, and smart aleck you ever saw. Being the only freshman bully (being the ONLY bully actually), I was feared by all. Victorian High was an all girls school and refinement center, so naturally no girl dared to pick a fight with me. “Far too childish,” they would say.
One of the girls attempted to end my reign as lead bully. That girl being Konama Langsly, my worst enemy ever. Loved by all, adored and pampered wherever she floated, and every girl wanted to be her. Sleek figure of a pale rose color, eyes of sapphire studded her graceful face, her long and filed nails, her step more like a dance. Her mom was a teacher of refinement, her father a famous doctor. The only thing that would raise any questions about how she was brought up was her hair. Long, wavy, and blue. Light blue, sky blue, robins egg blue, whatever you wanted to call it. It was BLUE. And it was natural too. All in all, she was a dainty, delicate little fawn. Anemic little brat.
I liked the teachers at my school. Most of them would crumble under my power in less than 2 seconds, that being why I liked them. However, throughout the entire school, there was only one 21-year old male teacher. And a very cute one at that. Girls swooned and fainted at the mere mention of his name: Major. The gym teacher. During his classes, his garments consisted of a white T-shirt and black shorts, but when he was not teaching, a black leather jacket complete with leather pants adorned his strong and powerful figure. Eyes of amber shone in his finely- chiseled face, and mahogany chin-length hair graced the backs of his ears and neck. A stunning piece of work. Not only was he the gym teacher, but he was also the discipline-enforcer for girls who “could not quite grasp reality”. Well I, being as bad as I was, ended up in his gymnasium quite a lot. Every other day, at the least.
Major was the only person that I really liked, let alone talked to me. Besides being a teacher, he was also a good conversationalist, and enjoyed talking to me as well. And the female teachers didn’t like that one. They figured he was some type of flirt, although he was 21 and by far the only male in the school. Out of all the good things I wrote about him just now, there was only one thing wrong. He liked Konama. HER of all people. Every now and then, she’d waft over to him and strike up a conversation on English literature, and insist that he talk to her while she passed by the gym. At times, she would flash a spiteful and taunting smile my way.
I figured I’d never have any real friends to talk to, on account of my violent behavior, which I really couldn’t help. I was mistaken. As I sat down to my lunch table one day, I saw a girl I’d never noticed before. “Must be a new girl,” I thought to myself. I assumed she hadn’t heard about me yet, as she sat next to me. The girl looked 2 years younger than me. Then again, I looked pretty old. She wore a normal navy uniform like mine, and carried a small box in her hand, which was her lunch. Jet black hair, which ended in a long ponytail, framed her face, which looked like that of a 10-year old girl. She cast her cat-like sea-green eyes downwards, as she opened her box. There was rice, shrimp, and vegetables inside. I eyed her box decorated with tiny painted flowers familiarly, and she took notice of me.
“Er...what do you want??” I blurted, in a reflex.
“To eat! Isn’t that what lunch time is for?” She asked childishly.
“Yeah...it is...” I mumbled in a failed attempt for a snappy cut-down. She kept right on eating.
“So,” she said, her mouth full, “You enjoying school here?”
“Of course not. It’s school. How can you enjoy it?”
“Well...you find something you like, and take an interest in it.”
“I didn’t mean that, you idiot.” She seemed unaffected by my insults.
“Oh,” She shoved another helping of rice into her mouth. “Do you have any friends?”
“I’m not lonely or anything. Now go away.” A look of youthful confusion graced her child-like face.
“I didn’t ask you if you were lonely, I asked you if you had any friends.” I shook my long, straight red hair.
“Sure I do.” The girl looked around.
“I don’t see any...”
“They live somewhere else.”
“Well...do you have any friends here?” I glared in the opposite direction. She knew what I was trying to say and smiled. “You wanna be mine?” Came her question. It almost sounded like an insult to me. I flinched. She acted like such a child, and yet had the bravery to come and sit next to ME. The school bully, although she didn’t know it. I looked down almost in shame and murmured “...sure.”
From then on, I actually had someone other than Major to chat with. The girl’s name was Neko Morikawa, Neko being short for Nekoto. She was from Japan like me, which would explain her lunch and the box she ate it in. Neko acted just like a cat. Whenever she was happy, a purr-like giggle escaped her lips, her canine teeth were definite fangs, and her nails resembled claws. At times girls stared at her and told her she looked like a mutant kitty. But when they did that, Neko pointed at them, laughed and said, “You look like you could use a new face lift!” and that sent them away, thinking they looked artificial. Konama even decided to make a comment.
“Oh look. The local riffraff and her riffraff friend...what’s this?” She stared at Neko’s catlike and slightly childish features. “Ha! Ha ha! What a sight! Is this a new student, or someone’s lost kitty cat?” I chased her away.
I soon discovered that Neko and I both went to the same elementary school, but we didn’t know each other at all. I had also discovered the reason why she came to England. Her mother figured that was crazy. As a child, Neko had gone through a great deal of solitude for the fact her father died when she was little, and her mother wouldn’t spend time with her. Neko spent her time with the family cat, Piku. Acting just like the cat, and talking to it as if it could talk back, her mother became wary of Neko for one of the first times in her life, and later on sent her to England for training in elegance. So far, the school’s influences hadn’t changed Neko, and she continued to act like a curious cat-girl in brand new world.
About a month passed, and Neko was still my only friend, and Konama my only enemy. As days flew by, we began to notice Konama wasn’t talked about much any more. Gossip about her began to float through the school. Whispers of “I heard she’s not a real aristocrat!” and “I heard she dyed her hair blue because it’s Major’s favorite color!” brushed against mine and Neko’s slightly pointed ears. Other strange rumors floated about in the crowd like wildfire such as “Konama has a tattoo!” and such. Neko and I also noticed that Konama knew every single one of these rumors, yet she still walked the halls of the school with the same English pride and elegance she had before.
“So!” I said walking by Konama’s side, a malicious grin on my cinnamon-toned face. “Not the center of attention anymore, are we, Miss Langsly?” Neko took Konama’s other side.
“I noticed we didn’t have tea with our highly-regarded colleagues today!” said Neko grinning, who really didn’t have the heart for being mean, but could act it when called upon. Konama kept her posture straight, eyes closed haughtily, and continued to walk on. I walked in front of her, hands on my hips.
“Eh? Not answering us? How rude! The headmistress shall surely hear of this!” I said in a mocking English voice and laughed with Neko. Konama merely walked past me and down the hall.
“She...usually has an insult for the each of us every time we see her...” Neko said, slowing her pace. I watched the young noble walk down the hall and crossed my arms disappointedly.
“Well that just ruins my day! I can’t even taunt her anymore!” Neko caught up to me and said, “Maybe we should talk to her when she’s alone.” And that’s just what we planned.
It was 10:34 at night, far past bedtime, and Neko and I crept from our different rooms in our nightwear, each dressed in the only thing that wasn’t a uniform around here. T-shirts and shorts from home. Our socked feet gently padded the wooden floors of the sleeping quarters as we snuck up to Konama’s door, which was surprisingly open, considering the doors were locked for you. The room was dark and shadows from the windblown trees outside danced like wispy black fire on the walls. The rooms were huge, and as I Neko and I peeked around what looked like a banister on a staircase, we saw Konama. She was a mess. Her long, wavy blue hair draped over her shoulders and in her face like a ruffled and shredded curtain, as her head looked downwards. She was seated on the floor, Indian style against her bed, and oddly enough dressed exactly as we were. With the slight excepting that her shorts were royal blue, and her T-shirt read “Dream” across the front. Tissues, various photos and books surrounded her as if they were parts of a force field, protecting her from the unknown that lurked outside the safety of her room. Neko took a step forward, making a creak rise from the wooden floor. A gasp arose from under the disheveled blue hair, and a face looked up. Her rosy face was now pale, and her glossy eyes had a slight red tint to them. Konama, the high school social elite, had been crying. I could’ve embarrassed her in front of the two sleeping bunkmates and ruined her reputation of refinement right then and there. But no, it was too easy. And besides, I wasn’t in the mood for arrogance on my part. She reached for an item, stood, and drew her arm backwards as if to throw it.
“Get out of here, now!” came the drowned whisper. “Or I’ll bash you with this--” she looked sorrowfully at the balled up tissue in her hand. I spoke to her. Neko spoke up.
“Konama, what’s the matter?” She inquired in a slight voice above a whisper. Konama lowered her long white arms to her sides.
“Alright, I’ve been humiliated, taunted, cursed, and shunned by all of the students. My teachers expect me to drop out of school and transfer. Even Major won’t pay any attention to me. And I know you both are enjoying it.” She wiped her face and slumped to the floor. “So what do you want from me now? You’ve had your fun.” Neko came forward and sat on her knees in front of the pathetic noble.
“Do all of your friends reject you, Konama?” she asked leaning forward.
“Yes...”came the quiet reply.
“And Major doesn’t pay you any mind either?” Konama shook her head. “So you’re a reject now.”
“What do you want from me?! I’m no reject! I am still the leading social elite of Victorian High!” Konama studied the 'Yeah right' expression on my face. “Well...not anymore...”
“Well,” Neko began, “Ayame and I seem to be the leading rejects of Victorian High.” Neko looked at me. “I think we’ve got a spot open for another, don’t we Ayame?” I couldn’t stand it. The look on Konama’s face was priceless. Her eyes glanced at me sadly and she looked like some drowned puppy pulled from a gutter. Nevertheless, a pitiful one. How COULD I say no?
“No.”
Neko kicked my ankle and I yelped and clutched my leg. Neko also glared at me with a somewhat playful anger and I looked at Konama. “I mean yeah!!” Konama smiled warmly and rubbed her eyes.
“Thank you.”
“Anytime.” Neko said smiling back.
“But this means that now you two will have to shape up, or else the headmistress will kick you out herself!” Konama said, arms crossed. We laughed aloud, which was a big mistake, for the headmistress herself bolted into the room.
“OHHH DEEEAAR! What have my students reduced themselves to?! Sneaking into each others rooms and drinking booze?!”
“Uh...we don’t...have any booze, headmistress....” I said flatly.
“And you, Konama!! My very best student! How could you! Oh how could you!! I had such high hopes for you!” and with that, the headmistress sobbed loudly into her hands. Konama waved her arms about back and forth.
“No no, headmistress, madam! We were only talking and...” -she held up a book- “Studying!” Neko examined the book’s cover, which read Secrets of the Male Mind. This only made the headmistress cry harder.
The next day, all three of us found ourselves in the library, seated next to stacks and stacks of books on the subjects of “discipline” and “manners”. Neko was about to fall asleep, face down in a book on “punishment”. I chewed on my pencil.
“Wrong book, Konama?” I whispered harshly.
“Be quiet and read.” came the rather embarrassed reply. Neko looked up sleepily.
“Is it lunch time yet...?” She muttered. I shut her face in her book.
Within a week, we left Victorian High. Yes, we were kicked out of this school, and transferred to another one. Well, someone asked for us to come, anyway, to a floating high school. A ship on the water, by the name of “Span Harly”. Our headmistress told us that we would be better off there. How right she was. I came to England in June, started school at Victorian High in August, and it is now February. Things are run differently here then in England. For one, the classes are much more hands-on. For example, they have a class for every martial art ever created! Konama doesn’t like that though. For another, this is a girls and boys school. I’ve made a lot of new friends ever since I came here. One of them is a Spanish sophomore with too many girl-chasing strategies. Another is his friend from Hong Kong, which happens to share the same interest, but goes about it like a gentleman, not a wolf. Oh! There was also a girl went to school at Victorian High that goes here now! I think she may have been transferred the same time Neko, Konama and I were. And there’s also an Australian guy with the fluffiest blonde ponytail anyone’s ever observed. There’s a girl from South America who sleeps a lot, an American guy who doesn’t seem to like anyone very much, and get this! My cousin goes here now! Man, things have changed so much since I left for England. A high school for ladies and high school for geniuses – it’s all far too exciting. There’s so much stuff to do around here, and I’ve more freedom and privileges then I ever imagined. And just think. I’m only a freshman...and this is only the beginning.