I grew up in a house that was too big for just one person. My earliest memories are of Mom—her humming while she cooked, brushing my hair, telling me stories before bed. She had this laugh that made everything feel lighter, even the days that were already heavy, and a smile that felt like sunlight. I miss it. I miss her but I always try to cover it.
Then, one day, she was gone. The car accident took her so fast I barely had time to understand what had happened. I remember sirens, voices shouting, my father staring at me like I was a stranger. Everything after that felt… hollow.
Dad tried, I think. But he was never really here. Board meetings, flights, events—I barely saw him. The house got quiet. Too quiet. Nannies came and went. Tutors sat with me while I did my homework. People tried to fill the space, but it wasn't Mom. It never could be.
I guess that's why I try to be kind. Maybe it's because I know what it feels like to be alone, or maybe it's just who I am. I smile at people. I help kids who are left out. I say nice things even when I don't feel like it. It's the one thing I can control—the one thing that reminds me there's still good in the world.
And now… here I am, standing in front of Seiren Academy. The gates are huge, polished, shining in the morning sun. Students are everywhere—laughing, chatting, moving like they own the place. My chest feels tight, but also… excited. Nervous. I adjust my bag on my shoulder and take a deep breath. I can do this. I have to.
Inside, the hallways smell like polished wood and books. I try to blend in, nod politely at people who glance my way, keep my steps steady. My first class is in the east wing. Sunlight streams through the windows, dust dancing in the beams. The teacher smiles at me and asks me to introduce myself.
"Sakura," I say, my voice soft but steady. "I… I'm looking forward to learning with all of you."
Some students nod back. A couple even smile. It's not much, but it's something.
By lunchtime, I've found a spot near the window. The chatter around me is loud and warm, and I feel a little spark of hope. Maybe I can belong here. Maybe I can make friends. I unpack my lunch, feeling the sun on my face, and for the first time in a long time, I smile. A real smile.
Because for once, it doesn't feel like I'm just filling the empty spaces in my life. It feels like I might actually be starting something new.
The bell rings
Lunch ended way too fast. I barely had time to finish my sandwich before the bell rang, and suddenly I was hustling to my next class, my bag swinging against my side. I hate rushing—it always makes me feel clumsy—but I made it just as the door clicked shut behind me.
The classroom smelled faintly of chalk and old books. It was smaller than the last one, which somehow made it feel a little safer. I slid into an empty seat near the back, hoping nobody would stare too long. My heart was still thumping like crazy. First day jitters, I told myself. Everyone deals with this.
"Hey, you're new, right?"
I jumped a little, then looked up. A girl was leaning casually against the desk beside me, ponytail swinging, a grin on her face. She had doodles all over her notebook—flowers, little cats, nonsense squiggles. She looked… comfortable. Confident. Scary, in a way.
"Uh, yeah," I mumbled. "I'm Sakura."
"I'm Yumi," she said, tilting her head. "Don't worry. You'll survive. Mostly."
I laughed, a little breathless. She made it sound like surviving school was some kind of adventure. I wanted to be brave like her, but my chest was still fluttering with nerves
Yumi leaned back in her chair, tapping her pencil against her notebook. "So… new girl, huh? You don't look like you belong in a place like this."
I blinked. "Uh… thanks? I think?"
She grinned, hair falling over one eye. "Relax. I mean it in a good way. You look… I dunno… different. Normal, I guess, well besides the white hair".
I laughed softly. "Normal? That's a first."
"Yeah," she said, rolling her eyes. "Everyone here tries way too hard. Polished hair, perfect bags, staring at their phones like they're solving world problems. And then there's you… not freaking out, not hiding in the corner. Weirdly refreshing and it's surprising that your new ".
I chewed my lip. "I guess… I've had a lot of practice at standing on my own."
She tilted her head, curious. "Oh yeah? What, like… you've fought bears in the backyard or something?"
I giggled. "Not exactly. Just… life stuff, I guess."
Yumi snorted. "Fair enough. Life stuff. Sounds fancy." She leaned closer, whispering conspiratorially, "Don't worry, though. I've got a good eye for people. You seem… solid. You're not fake, and that's rare around here."
I felt a small warmth in my chest. "Thanks… I hope I can keep up with you, though. You seem… loud."
Her grin widened. "Loud? Me? Pfft. That's cute. You haven't seen loud yet..
Students kept filing in, whispering, looking at me, and I tried to focus on my notebook instead of their glances. I hate being noticed, but I also hate feeling invisible. It's confusing.
The teacher started the lesson, droning on about whatever the subject was, and I tried to take notes. But my eyes kept flicking back to Yumi, who was doodling happily and occasionally giving me a cheeky grin. She didn't care what anyone thought, and part of me wished I could be that fearless.
When the bell finally rang, she leaned over and whispered, "Lunch after school? There's a café nearby. Best caramel latte you'll ever taste. Promise."
I blinked, a little startled. Then I nodded. "Yeah… I'd like that."
The rest of the day passed in a blur—class, class, more faces, more names—but I noticed something strange. I wasn't completely anxious. Not like usual. I was… okay. Maybe even a little excited. I caught snippets of laughter, small smiles from classmates, and a weird little hope started to grow. But i mustn't be foolish it's still my first day.
By the time I walked out of the school gates, my legs were sore, my bag heavy, and my stomach rumbling, but my chest felt lighter than it had in years.