She (TakashiMorinozukaxOC)

Chapter Seven: The First Day at Ouran

It was four in the morning. 

Four in the morning when the light hit his window blinds. Four in the morning when his room filled with the stripes of light from the window. 

Takashi got up, accepting defeat. He hadn't slept well. Between the stress of starting his senior year the next day and his sleeping schedule already being off kilter, Takashi had only slept a total of three hours. 

Across the estate, she got out of bed and set up her paint set. 

Jenni was anxious to the point where she felt sick. It was all she could to not mess up her painting with her shaking hands. She pulled her hair back into a hair tie, rolled her neck out, and told herself that she'd be fine. That her Japanese was great and that she wouldn't stick out too bad without a uniform. 

A deep breath escaped her as she mixed her paint in the palette and started on the highlights of the branches of the painting. Behind the branches was the impression of a fountain and a few rocks. It was coming together nicely-- soon it'd be a nice depiction of half-bloomed blossoms on the light brown branches. 

Jenni leaned back and inspected her work, then looked to the clock.

5:00 AM. 

She sighed, feeling that she needed a change of activities. 

So, she went on a jog. Then, she took a shower and changed into an outfit. And changed again. And again. And once more until she landed on a combination of a pleated yellow, black, and white plaid skirt with a button-down top and trendy sweater vest. She pulled her hair up and put in her contact lenses. A maid brought her coffee-- a good morning gift from Hekima. Jenni drank another before deciding that she'd make the boys late if she stalled any longer. 

She came down the hallway, adjusting the earrings in her ears as she went. Takashi thought she looked fine, but she fiddled with her skirt and tights and re-tied her shoelaces on her saddle shoes twice. Finally, she stood up and shouldered her school bag-- an older, black backpack that she had brought with her from America. Honey told her that she looked cute, but Jenni sucked in her lower lip and sighed while they walked out to the limo to take them to school. 

They sat, and she held her breath and counted the seconds until she breathed again. Next to her, an elbow connected lightly to her side. 

Takashi looked down at her comfortingly, "You'll be fine." 

She leaned back in her seat, "I hope so."

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Jenni couldn't be more happy to be poor. She was comfortable in her skirt, tights, and saddle shoes. Her sweater vest and button-up short-sleeve blouse couldn't have been more flattering. 

The female uniform was hideous. 

Absolutely atrocious. 

Incredibly horrendous. 

And other adjectives meaning extremely awful. 

They were the color of a pee stain on a white carpet; or over-creamed coffee; or contaminated water. The dresses were long sleeves with colonial-like cuffs that were far too large in Jenni's opinion. The skirts lifted and flitted out like this was some sort of period drama. Girls were walking around looking like cream puffs-- except these cream puffs were anemic trust-fund babies who looked at her like the gum on the underside of their shiny, shiny shoes. 

Jenni made a face at the awful-looking fabric and felt happy that she couldn't afford one. On the other hand, she was appalled that such an awful creation was one hundred and fifty American dollars. Jenni had worked all summer and winter break and sold her beaten down truck for parts to be able to afford the year in Japan. Ugly school uniforms were not in the equation.