|Rain In My Heart
Author: Magical Emi PM
15 year old Riku Kisamura moves to Tokyo from snowy Hokkaido, where he meets bitchy Setsunai, bubbly Shiori and her cousin Akahiro and flirty Kaosu. He also comes across Miyuki, the woman of his dreams. There's just one problem: she's his teacher.Rated: Fiction T - English - Angst/Romance - Chapters: 5 - Words: 4,742 - Reviews: 19 - Favs: 2 - Follows: 1 - Updated: 09-21-07 - Published: 07-14-07 - id: 2390279
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Yet more romance...hahaha...why is it impossible to find the Sailor Moon manga?! -hissy fit-
I suppose it was a long time ago when I met Miyuki. Perhaps she never even existed. Maybe I made her up. I don't know. There isn't a lot you can be certain about these days. Miyuki seems far away now, a distant, slender figure dancing gracefully in the rain, skirts flying. But I hope she did exist. I might even be able to remember it all, if I try...
I was fifteen years old that day. The day we moved house. I'd spent most of my life in a tiny little place somewhere in the north of Hokkaido. The snow lay thick on the ground a lot of the year and my friends and I built houses and people from snow and flew down hills on sledges. It seemed uncomfortably warm when we arrived in Tokyo. I was a country boy, I hated the city. It was too loud and congested, so far away from my peaceful snowy fairyland.
Anyway, we stepped off the train onto a stifling platform. It felt like we'd walked into a sauna by mistake. I was only with my mum. My dad cleared off ages ago, went to live with his idiotic girlfriend. I can hardly remember her name...oh yes, she was called Mina. A silly name for a silly woman. She was a lot shorter than me and very blonde and giggly. She flitted all over the place like a hyperactive canary, messing things up. I found her highly irritating but my dad just laughed and ruffled her curls like she was his daughter. Dad wanted me to come and live with him but after a few days I got into a huge argument with Mina so I packed my bags and went back to Mum. She was only too pleased to see me.
The station was full of commuters all trying to force their way onto the train. A huge surge of them hit us at once but I managed to drag Mum off with me. We went up a staircase and arrived out in the sun, blinking rapidly like a pair of owls. That was the start of our new city life.
The house was almost as small as the one in Hokkaido. The walls were made of paper.
"It's called shoji," said my mum, leafing through a book on home decor. I thought it was very silly. I wanted to punch the wall to see if it would rip but I didn't dare.
I didn't go to school until a week after we got there. There were so many things to be sorted out; so much to be done. I had to endure two hours of extreme hardcore boredom being dragged round a megamall buying new clothes. Most of mine were shapeless old knitted wintery things. And then there was the school uniform. I hated that. It was crisp and smart and tight. The creases in my trousers probably would have sliced your finger in two if you'd run it down them. I could just about walk in them. And the shoes...argh. I laced them up too tight and they were a size too small for me.
So, two weeks later, I toddled off to my new school in my cardboard trousers, grimacing in pain with every step I took because of the shoes. The school itself was a grey, square building that looked flat, as if it was a drawing done in Paint. I stepped smartly through the gates just in case they closed before I managed to make it in. There were groups of girls giggling politely at one another's jokes and boys messing about together. I wasn't sure which category I fell in with. I was always quite a serious person, too much so for giggling or messing about. Thankfully the bell rang then so I joined the wave of people rushing into school.
I negotiated my way through herds of stampeding people to my classroom, its number scrawled on a slightly grubby piece of paper. There were already about seven people in there, humming to themselves or whispering quietly to their friends. I didn't have any to whisper to and I hadn't time to listen to music.
A pretty young woman walked into the classroom. She only looked about twenty years old. The eyes behind her glasses were a painfully exquisite ice blue and her glossy chocolate brown hair tumbled loose around her shoulders. She wore a simple long white skirt that swished and a pale blue shirt with one button undone at the top. A silver necklace with three little snowflakes on it jingled softly as she moved. When she walked past my desk I caught her scent: spring flowers and musk. She was the most beautiful person I had ever seen.
Who was she?