Strawberry Kiss

eight

chapter eight:
i found you

I am not a morning person, but here I am. Waking up early to go to school, even though the school is near and only a walking distance. I am currently eating breakfast I cooked myself, until Papa entered the room and saw me. He widens his eyes at me and points his finger, "who are you?"

I rolled my eyes at his silliness and just continued eating the most important meal of the day. I heard him chuckle. "Oh, come on. I'm joking my dearest. But why are you up so early? You're usually awake at 8:00 and its still 7:30 or something. Aren't you my night owl?"

"I'm.." I was tok excited after spending the night writing letters. And not the normal letters I write to relieve some stress, but also feelings. And I spent an hour contemplating if I should I send it or not. "...just excited."

"Oh? Why?" He asks as he pick out some water inside the fridge.

"There's going to be a quiz later, and I spent the night studying so I'm e-excited to see if the things I've studied will be present." I stutter. But at least I managed. I guess?

"Hmm. Well, good luck, dearest." He said before proceeding to the living room with his water. When I was stuck here in this white apartment that almost became my asylum, I usually sit in front of the television and be completely bore myself out. But since Papa's  work starts at 9, he now sees me off to go to school.

"Oh! I almost forgot, Papa, remember the cracks I told you? Some are appearing in my room, are you really sure that its nothing?"

He look up to me and says the following: "Yeah, its really okay."

He assures me but I can't help but doubt him. Okay, I doubt him so many times but I really doubt him in this one. The apartment building looks ancient, as it stands out among the rest of the buildings that surrounds it.

But then again, I doubt him in the past and he proves my doubts wrong. So maybe, this is just my senseless concerns. I glance at the clock before picking up my bag.

"'I'll be leaving now, Papa. Take care at work, okay?"

"You two, be careful when crossing the road okay?"

"I'm not a kid anymore!" I climb down the stairs and on the door, I meet the landlady's son. In his junior high uniform and when he saw me, he looks rather horrified or something.

"You're a senior?" He says and gulped while still looking at me.

"Yes, and we're going to be late if you don't keep moving. Its 8 o'clock and time is moving, so, get out of the door." He quickly does so. What an obedient child.

I arrive the school with everything except cheerfulness. Hakazawa (that landlady's son) kept on blabbering, usually I like that, but its too much. Its quiet when I arrive in my classroom, and since I barely sleep last night; sleep came in as soon as I position myself in my desk.

In other words, I fell asleep. When I woke up, everyone was there. God, so refreshing.

"Mizu-chan! You're finally awake!" Aoi yelled.

"Thanks, I guess." I said, gently rubbing my eyes and fix my messy hair.

"Oh! Did you know Mizu-chan, people says how Harada is going to ask Haeru out!"

My cheeriness slowly drifted away from the news. Harada, is going to ask her? 'I knew it.' I shouldn't have written a letter. And now, I spent my time writing a letter that will never gonna be seen or read.

But how did it come to this?

When I was just simply and peacefully walking to the cafeteria to train myself from getting lost and defendant, but nature always read and the recipient of the letter suddenly bump into me and the letter fell out of my jacket, and I barely noticed it.

Until he pick it up and reads the envelop. "Oi! What the---"

"Its address to me." Those words of facts, stumped me and left me dumbfounded and frozen in my feet.

"No!" My heart is hammering just by the thought of him reading it. "Give it back! Its just a joke! Come on!" But the more I jump, the more he raises his hand. "What is your problem?"

"Oh? This is a joke? You wrote me a love letter, Hana Mizuha?" I froze. How the heck did he knows that?

"N-no..."

"Sorry, but I'm fine. I really dislike girls who are nothing but show off." Then he left. What does he mean by he dislike stupid show-off girls? Does I fit in that category—yeah maybe, I do, the letter; but that doesn't give him any right to insult one's hard work. How dare he!

I have never felt so frustrated before that I could flip a whole teacher's table alone. To everyone's surprise.