paper petals

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Long, fair-skinned fingers fumbling with a pair of chopsticks, Josie sucked in a breath of fresh, early-spring air, soaking up the gorgeous weather. There she was, sitting up against the trunk of a sweeping cherry blossom tree, it being the heart of lunchtime.

Though, what she had for lunch on the other hand could only be described as measly. A teensy cup of rice sprinkled with soy sauce and a bottle of water. Oh, and some vitamins. That was basically it. As earlier stated, measly.

But even then, Josie still picked at it, freckled fingers twirling the chopsticks nonchalantly in her hand. It wasn't like she was allowed to just go and eat as much as she pleased; her mother had her follow a very strict diet. She wasn't too hungry at the moment, anyways. Especially with the distractingly beautiful view, petals drifting onto the landscape in front of her in a serene, surreal manner. They looked delicate and easily crunched, like thin pieces of paper. Just watching them, nostalgia started seeping into her veins.

The moment didn't last long.

Several minutes later, squeals and other disturbing, eardrum-damaging noises erupted behind Josie, promptly ruining the whole mood. It was like a whole ambush of noise. Her eyes---almond shaped, a tidbit sign of her asian ancestry---crinkled in annoyance.

Taking in one last restricted swallow of rice, Josie peeked her head around the tree to see where the hell all the racket was coming from---just what exactly was going on?---only to have herself temporarily flash-blinded by the sight. A slew of petals flew straight at her, resembling delicate sakura boomerangs, and glimpses of . . . men. . . could be seen in the distance. They were dressed in traditional clothing and were flocked by squealing crowds of girls.

Her curiosity vanished in seconds and Josie maneuvered herself out of view, using the tree trunk as a shield. Out of sight, out of mind, as they say. She didn't feel like associating herself with those noisy things. Paying the scene any attention seemed like a waste of effort too, why should she bother?

Slipping some multi-vitamin pills between her lips, Josie swallowed them raw as she put on her favourite bulky pair of headphones. They were pretty old, a vintage set from the 90s or something, but sinfully addictive. With a few easy taps of her finger, heavy metal blasted through her ears, its loud, hoarse screeching promptly drowning out all other sound. Ah, this is the life. She shut her eyes and sighed in content.

(She had to admit, she was a bit of a hypocrite, liking screamo music while equally disliking screamo-fangirls. Just a perk of being her, Josie supposed.)

∮∮

The rest of the day passed about as smoothly as peanut brittle. Apparently, the pipsqueak Yasuchika character was in all her other classes, and he was about as stiff as when she met him third-period.

"Do you even do any homework?" he asked her dryly after snatching her notebook and flipping through it, giving her a slight glare. The pages were all empty, every question blank. Josie shrugged in response.  "Irresponsible."

"It's not that I'm irresponsible," the girl began in her usual calm, bored-sounding tone. "It's just that-- " Josie paused, unable to further construct on that statement. Now that she thought about it. . .

Oh well.

Even when she had a sliver of time to spare, she would never consider using it for school purposes. Usually, she'd sleep, or listen to metal and sleep, or something along those lines. And Josie got away with it. Being highly famous and highly requested had its own advantages after all, though her teachers were more than displeasured with them.

"You are irresponsible," the brunette deadpanned.

"True that," she deadpanned as well.

Yasuchika heaved out a sigh and dug both hands through his (kind of fluffy, chipmunky) yet perfectly styled hair. Now that Josie thought about it, the boy was sort of  like a chipmunk-- tiny, over-obsessive, squeaky. Yasuchipmunk Haninutzuka. Her mind started to drift off and she mentally snickered, what a clever nickname.

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