To Drown in Sand

Whither My Thoughts Like Your Broken Dreams

"P-please take care of you!"

Gray eyes sparkled nervously under the bright lights of the classroom. Her back was stiff as she bowed in greeting, her Japanese choppy and heavily accented when she spoke. She was taller than her peers, long legs and dark skin making her stand out from the shorter frame and pale   of those around her. 

Soft snickers and giggles filled the air at the botched introduction as the girls laughed at their new classmate. The boys whispered amongst  themselves about the "foreigner" that stood nervously at the front of the class. Their sensei watched disapprovingly and rapped his ruler on the table to call for order. "That's enough class." He called out whilst gently nudging his new student forward. "Be kind to Arthur-san and treat her well."

The girl, Arthur Amelia, gripped the edge of her school skirt and walked towards an empty desk at the back of the class. She avoided eye contact and quietly slid into her seat. Sensei started the lesson of the day once she was seated and went about as he would every day of class. Slim fingers held a bright pink pen as Amelia tried desperately to keep up with the lesson. The rapid fire Japanese was lost to her ears as her beginner level skills failed to keep up. A set of notes entered her peripherals and she looked over to the hand that offered them. Black eyes met her own as a gentle smile was shared between the two. "I'm Hinami-chan." The other girl whispered. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Aaaaand.... CUT!"

The snap of boards marked the end of the scene. Children stand and run to one another as they joyfully discuss their favorite parts. Sara watches as she stands alone in a room full of cameras and kids. The other children easily communicate with one another, finding it easier to hang with their "own kind". She took strongly after her mother, those shared foreign features easily identifying her as an outsider. Even as the youngest actor there, she still stood tall above her peers, her mother's genes beating out her father's yet again. Honestly, her father had only won in the naming and shape of her eyes, though her hair was much more tamable.

With a sigh, the young actress made her way over to the snack table and grabbed herself several red bean buns and a stick of dango. The western sweets were left ignored despite them being specifically made for her. She already had the cards stacked against her, no need to alienate herself further by eating "strange" foods. If someone else tried them first, then she'd grab her own. Her lack of friends allowed her to get to her snacks with no issues and return to her own station. Her chair had her name printed in both Japanese and English characters. She sighed. 

"I really wish they'd treat me like everyone else." She thought to herself.

The set of "Bury These Words Under the Old Sakura Tree" was supposed to be about bonds and how they grow between even the most different of people. The main character is the exotic foreigner who joined the school after being adopted by a rich family. A total outsider struggling to make a place where she doesn't belong.  That's exactly how she felt in real life. It didn't matter that she was born here or that her name was very clearly Japanese. It didn't matter how natural the words flowed on her tongue with an accent born only to a native. What mattered was that she did not look Japanese. She was too dark, hair too thick. She looked foreign and so she was treated as such. And what did people do with something new and unknown to them? They either idolize or discriminate. Even now, as she ate quietly and neatly, she could hear the whispers.

"Do you see that gaijin?"

"How did she get the lead? She's not even that pretty."

"I heard her father got her the role. He wanted to please his gaijin wife."