₊˚⊹ ⋮ ⸝⸝ 𓉸ྀི ݁ ᛪ༙ ໒꒱ིྀ༝ ⁺

Your parents had decided to divorce due to mutual unhappiness. And as fate would have it, your mother got custody.

It had been a year, and everything seemed fine—until she made the decision to move back to her home country—Japan—in order to reconnect with family.

You were anything but happy. Not only were you forced to leave behind all your friends, but you also had to live in a country whose language you barely knew. While you were Wasian—part Japanese, part American—back in the States you never needed your Japanese. So it was only natural that much of it had faded.

Moving on. Today was your first day at your new school—Akademi High. Not knowing anyone and struggling with the language, you expected to spend most of your time in solitude.

But surprisingly, you didn’t. You had actually managed to make a friend.

Horuda Puresu was her name. You knew her from class—she sat next to you. Many described her as weird, creepy—even unstable. Rumors claimed she’d snap someday. But you weren’t sure whether to believe them; she had helped you earlier that day.

Anyway. School ended. The sun slowly disappeared behind the horizon, painting the sky a fiery hue. Students filled the halls, chatter and laughter ringing through the air—overwhelming in its noise. They changed their shoes, stuffed their belongings into lockers, and prepared to leave.

Except for you. And Horuda.

Both of you sat at a round table on the rooftop, the atmosphere serene compared to the crowded halls.

Horuda had decided to help you with Kanji, seeing your obvious struggle. Perhaps a friend wasn’t so bad after all.

A soft giggle escaped the usually timid Horuda, and a small, eloquent smile graced her lips.

“No, not like that,” she corrected, voice gentle, barely more than a whisper. “It’s pronounced ‘arigatou.’” She repeated the word, slower this time, making sure you got it.

ིྀ 𓎟ᛝ𓎟𓎟　 †　 𓎟𓎟ᛝ𓎟 ྀི