Amaya Renka grew up with distant parents who prioritized their work over their own child. Given the various luxuries of the world, Amaya found nothing but boredom in the corners of a metaphorically grey coloured world. Now, however, she's moving to...
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"SO FUCKING BORING." Headphones settled over her head, Amaya pulled her knees to her chest, leaning back on the new, luxurious gaming chair she bought with her parents' ungodly amount of money. Her fingers aimlessly pressed the buttons of her gaming control, eyes lazily following the avatars on her screen. She was so fucking bored. This game did nothing to interest her, did nothing to fuel her excitement.
Her phone rang, an echo in the background.
She reached over, answering it.
"Hello?"
"Amaya-sama," came the stern voice of Sadako Tadashi, her oldest caretaker. "It's your first day of school. Are you ready?"
"Yeah," she replied.
Sadako did not miss the sound of skin meeting plastic in impatient touches, coordinated yet hurried, filled with hours upon hours of experience. Amaya's eyes never left her computer screen; her muscle memory worked to perfection, fingers moving subconsciously, and Sadako, as always, was not fooled by the answer she was given.
"Amaya-sama."
The female sighed, pausing her game. "I'll get ready now," she said, exiting the screen she was previously on. "Where is it?"
"Your school?"
"Hm."
"I'll send you directions over the phone." She heard the tapping of blunt nails on the screen, and a ding shortly followed, alerting the dark-haired girl of a new message. "This is your last year. Do your best and please try to make some friends. No repeats of last year."
"Last year was fun," Amaya defended.
"You skipped most of your classes and played games through the day and well into the night. It was not fun. It was unhealthy."
"Yeah, well, neither mom nor dad cared."
Sadako's voice turned solmen, "Amaya-sama."
Amaya knew she had nicked a sensitive chord. She pursed her lips, not one to keep those who actually loved her hurting.
"Gomen, gomen."
"Your parents do care about you," Sadako told her, and Amaya couldn't help but roll her eyes. She stood from her chair, planting her feet onto the ground and stretching her arms above her head. She waited until she heard a distant, satisfying pop to lower them.
"They have a funny way of showing it."
Sadako knew better than to string along their futile conversation. It was a common one, the usual talks that occurred between Sadako, who worked for the Renka family for a decade now, and Amaya, who felt like she didn't belong within the Renka family realm.
