°˖✧Gaijin✧˖°

°˖✧Toy✧˖°

Never judge a book by its cover.

It's a lesson that is taught to everyone in their youths, but it rarely ever sticks. Boys will see a girl that they find to be ugly, and they'll immediately steer clear of her as if she's the plague. The same sort of sentiment can be applied to a girl like Yamada Chizuru.

Pretty, blonde, and a gyaru. The average person would immediately jump to the assumption that she is vapid, mean-spirited, a delinquent, and slutty. Few people actually care enough to see beyond her appearance and see the real girl, aside from the members of the art club. Everyone else simply sees her as whatever they want her to be. But she doesn't correct them.

"Papa! Jiji!" Chizuru calls out from the kitchen just as soon as she's finished with making their lunches for the day - a simple gyudon bento for the two of them. Eiji, or Jiji, is still a growing boy despite being three years older than her, and her father needs as much energy as he can get while he's working as a mechanic.

The two of them trail into the kitchen, both of them looking equally as disheveled as the other. She's always found it a little funny that they're practically twins, aside from the fact that her papa has facial hair and Eiji is as smooth as the day he was born. "Your lunches are ready," she chirps, handing both of them the wrapped bentos.

"Thank you, sweetheart," her father leans over and presses a kiss to the top of her head before trudging over to the coffee maker to make himself a cup. "What would I do without you?"

"Probably starve or eat the vending machines at your job out of business," Jiji half-jokes, carrying his bento to his bag so he can keep it inside till lunch.

"Do you guys need anything else? I'm gonna go talk to Mama and then get ready," she points her thumb in the direction of the living room.

Jiji and her father exchange a little bit of a look, furrowed brows and all, before they shake their heads. On that note, she scurries off to the living room so she can speak with her mother.

She sits on her knees in front of the shrine. She gazes into the eyes of her mother through the picture that is sitting in the middle of it. She takes a deep breath before she speaks to her like she does every morning and night. "Hi, Mama. The annual marathon is coming up at school. Do you remember when Jiji did that in middle school and he got in the top ten? I was so proud of him! You were, too, right?"

Mama doesn't respond. She never does, but she hopes that she can hear her at the very least.

"Papa misses you a lot. We all do... They always say that I look and act exactly like you did when you were still here. But I can't tell for myself. You left when I was so young, so my memory of you is all fuzzy 'n junk. You're not mad at me for that, right?"

Jiji watches her from the kitchen table, his cheek resting upon his palm. His dark eyes have a shimmer of concern in them as he looks at her back, chatting to someone that is no longer here and hasn't been for years. "Dad... do you think that Mom hears when Chi talks to her?" He asks softly.

"I really hope so, son."

He looks at his little sister for a moment longer before he slowly looks at their father. He says nothing, just stares off in space as he takes sips of his coffee every now and again. "Hey... don't you think it's time that you... I don't know, get out there? You can't be lonely forever..."

"No," is his immediate response. "I have you kids to look after."

"We're old enough to look after ourselves, Dad," he protests. "I'm in high school now, and Chi has already gotten the hang of cooking for herself and us! So why...? Why are you doing this to yourself?"