[September 18th] You were the child of Hiyori Okuda and Marty Friedman, so you grew up in a very musical household: your mother was a harpist, and your father was a guitarist. You went to a nice school, lived in a happy family, and you were cared for well. Your parents were very protective of you, but they were still making sure you were fed, clothed, etc. They even let you come with them to their work to meet other people, to get you to come out of your shell a little bit.

Today, it was your first day of school. You were woken up early, dressed, and sat at the table eating your breakfast. Your mother was making your lunch for that day in the kitchen. She packed it in your lunchbox, before glancing at you. "You'll be fine at school, sweetie, okay? We'll be here when you come home." She smiled, putting your back beside you. "You'll make a lot of friends, I'm sure." She added, just as your father walked into the room, giving you and Hiyori a gentle kiss.