Another boring year milled by, over the course of the year. But that was a given, wasn't it?

That said, the last day of classes for Suzuran Junior High finally decided to show its face to three hundred girls who were currently enrolled in the reform school. Most didn't have to contend with the idea of moving to a new school, save for the ones who had made progress and could transfer out, and ninth graders who simply were too old to stay an extra year.

Aoi Himezaki was one of those ninth-graders. Even if she owned the school, practically, there would be no good reason for keeping her on for another year.

She declined to join some friends of hers at a mall later that day. Some of the girls liked to try to intimidate the "normal" people. Zaki, as she was more commonly known, thought such activities stupid.

She didn't cry at the graduation ceremony. Some girls did. Only forty-seven girls graduated that year. All clad in uniforms, they marched to receive their diplomas. Zaki found herself bored during the entire ordeal.

But it was over now. Ritsuko now headed the gang (in name, at least; Zaki was still above her, but she couldn't head it up when she was going to another school). The torch had been passed.

But there was still more to do.

I feel like scum today.

I'm no good at expressing myself when I'm upset. Anger is easy to express, and so is fear (the two are often one and the same, I've found), but being upset is so much less tangible than that. You don't know where it comes from; it just hits you like a two hundred pound set of luggage flung by a professional wrestler from afar and you can't put your finger on it. Was it this piece of luggage or that piece of luggage? Does it really matter?

I don't get upset often. I'm much more in tune with the feeling of anger, of vengeance, of wanting to make someone pay. Cross me and I'll make you bleed, you know? But being upset is hard to grasp, and rare, which makes it all the more difficult to deal with.

So what do I think of having to leave it all behind? Sure, I'll tell you. I hate this place, in some ways. I'm glad to leave. It's for my own good, besides.

But it's comfortable here. I ran this place, and now I don't have that luxury anymore. Plus, now I have to search for a high school, which is... interesting. Don't laugh, I've been busy. I haven't had time to search for a new high school. It's not like I have the advantage of parents to make life a breeze.

But that doesn't really explain why I feel like scum today, does it? I suppose not. There's probably no real reason for it. I hate to fit the common stereotype, but people just sometimes get depressed, I guess. Especially teenagers. Must be something about Japan.

Or not.

I'll probably have to go to a private school, though. They don't require exams. I hate exams. They also don't require a certain "type", a school record.

Just money. Lots and lots of money.

And I've got money to burn.

The mail came with some blessings that day. Fancy envelopes, filled with scads of information, rested on Zaki's table, having been torn through with a letter opener.

After all, without the benefit of a computer, it would be hard to decide on a high school (without going there; most of these places would probably kick her out upon seeing her). They seemed nice enough places, but none of them leaped out at her and shouted, "Pick me! Pick me! For the love of all that is holy, pick me!"

That was probably for the best, on the other hand; she wouldn't have been able to explain the hallucination.

Hmm. This was interesting, though. Some of these schools were definitely worth looking into, at least for the sheer entertainment value they would bring.

Or the confirmation that these places actually existed. Even upon reading some of these pamphlets, Zaki would never, ever, ever be able to convince herself that some of these schools were for real unless she saw them with her own eyes.

Most of these, though? Junk. Total junk. She trudged out to the kitchen and threw away the unwanted papers.

That was something that the students of one of these schools, Shinrin High, would not have wanted her to do. The campus laid close to a forest; apparently, these students were the second coming of Greenpeace or something. "Recycle, man! It's good for the environment!" Zaki snickered at the very thought. Not that it was evil or anything, but there was such a thing as being too nice, after all.

Ick. Too nice.

Oh well, she'd take a look anyway.

One phone call later, Shinrin High and Aoi Himezaki worked out a little arrangement of sorts. Zaki would arrive at the school tomorrow morning, at ten, and someone would be there to give her a short tour of the facilities. Someone named Iori Kuromori was to show her around the campus.

Iori Kuromori, hmm? Zaki really didn't have the slightest as to what to expect. All she knew was to be there when it was... time to be there, and to get to bed as a decent hour.

It being only nine in the evening, however, she decided to occupy herself with the television, setting the alarm, which rested on her coffee table, to go off at eight-thirty, in case she fell asleep right there.

This did happen, expectedly.

Iori sighed, waiting at the gates of Shinrin High School. Today was not a good day to have to wait for someone to take the tour; it was a Saturday! Surely there were some trees that needed hugging out there somewhere!

Um, yeah, that was it. Or some whales needed not to be skewered with those nasty harpoons.

Wow, this school sure had American sensibilities. But it was the style, after all.

Iori Kuromori was a nice girl, most people would say. A very nice girl. Her ears lacked piercings. She didn't douse her hair with any color-changing products, leaving it at a natural black. Her skirt reached a good two inches past her knees, and her arms were shrouded in sleeves. She didn't sleep around. She tried to be good. She didn't do anything bad.

So why was it that she had to waste a perfectly good Saturday morning on waiting for some girl that she wasn't even sure would even bother to show up? She had friends to hang out with and a perfectly good weekend to bask in the glory in. She didn't want to be here.

Her wristwatch struck ten.

Urgh, now this person was officially late! She'd be sure to bring it up to this... Aoi Himezaki. Maybe put her through a little guilt trip.

That thought lasted for approximately fifteen minutes, and promptly ended when Iori got a good look at the girl, when she finally decided to show her face.

She honestly looked in better company with a bosozoku - a biker gang - than with a group of environmental activists. She stood tall, dressed in black and blue. She wore tights, a long skirt (which would've been bad for a biker to wear, Iori noted), leather boots, and a long loose blouse. She kept the bottom half of her face shrouded in a mask. And that hair... Dyed a dark pink, spiked here and there, swept into a ponytail... She clearly was not a nice girl, unlike Iori, from head to toe. Even her eyes indicated this; they cast a mean glare, harsh and unyielding.

This was the girl she was supposed to show around?

"Are you Iori Kuromori?" the hellion asked.

"I don't know. Are you Aoi Himezaki?" was her decidedly smartass reply.

"What do you think?" The girl narrowed her eyes.

"I think," she paused for a moment, taking a small step back, before regaining her composure, "I think you just might be."

"Very observant of you," this she-devil of sorts sarcastically drawled. "As a matter of fact, I am she. And you are Iori Kuromori, correct?"

Mental note: do not mess with the gang girl. "Yes, I am."

"Good," Aoi spat; she let off a strange aura of authority, but why was inexplicable. "So, about the tour?"

"Oh, yes." Iori nodded, then walked towards the front door of the school, crossing the moderately-sized courtyard, passing assorted picnic tables. "This way."

The she-devil followed suit.

All and all, Zaki believed, Shinrin was not an impressive high school.

First of all, it boasted a large student population. This was never a good thing, but it could fail to be a bad thing if there was a good proportion of teachers to said student population. This school lacked this.

Second, its students possessed a certain attitude. A very American attitude. Not surprising, especially when one considered that many of the students were foreign exchange students, and the staff members were, more often than not, from America, but that didn't mean Zaki had to like it.

This entire attitude was best displayed with the speech the student body president, one Adei Katadori, delivered in the assembly hall. Apparently, Zaki wasn't the only student being shown around; in fact, there were about fifty of them there, male and female alike.

He talked about responsibility to the environment, to the trees and to the ocean and especially to the adorable little animals.

Um, sorry but I'm not throwing down nearly half a million yen per quarter for this.

Third, Zaki found herself being followed by some weird boy. Finally tiring of it, she stopped and turned to him. He didn't look any different from the typical Japanese male, save for a pair of glasses; he halted, staring at her. Iori stopped as well, her confused expression practically asking, "What's going on?"

"Look," the gang leader started, "I don't know you, and you don't know me."

"Right," the boy said.

Zaki shook her head slightly, a bit exasperated, and pointed to him. "Why are you following me?"

"Because I've met your type before, and I know what you want." He took on a more assertive stance.

What the hell? she thought, folding her arms across her chest. "Then enlighten me. What do I want?"

The boy grinned. "Why, me, of course!"

What in the...

Zaki contained herself, doing all that she could do to keep from teaching this brat the meaning of pain itself. "Are you joking?"

"Of course not, lover girl," he replied, winking in what some crack-addled moron could possibly, maybe, consider to be seductive.

Of course, she did not count as one of these individuals. "Are you on drugs?" she asked, incredulous.

He blinked, shocked, as Iori looked on, her expression clearly indicating annoyance. "You mean you don't want to do me?"

Finally, he seemed to get it through his thick skull. "That's exactly what I mean."

"Really?" he asked, stepping too close for her comfort. "But you're a hot girl... under all that clothing, I bet! And I'm a guy!"

"I don't want you," she snarled, putting heavy emphasis on each and every syllable. This experience was growing quite vexing.

"Hmph. I get it." He smiled arrogantly... knowingly.

"Get what?" Zaki placed her hands on her hips, arms akimbo.

"Why you don't want me. You're a lesbian."

This would prove to be the catalyst for one hell of a storm.

That tears it! Zaki thought, grimacing under her mask.

After storming towards him, focusing on that haughty smirk, she put her weight on her left leg and applied her other foot to his chin. His head snapped back, and he flew not-so-gracefully into a set of lockers.

"That does it. I'm out of here," she hissed to Iori, who helplessly watched as Zaki turned on her heel and stormed the hell out of this dump.

I lost my temper. I shouldn't have done that. Great, now that idiot's gonna call the cops on me, and they're gonna be down my throat. Again. Zaki sighed, sinking into a chair. Home was a good place to be, but it only gave Zaki more time to mentally berate herself. She even had called Ritsuko to vent her frustration.

The sound of someone rapping at her door echoed through the apartment.

Great, that's probably them already. But nonetheless, she stood up and answered the door anyway.

In the door's place stood a brown-haired (cut shortly) girl, small in stature, with a thin scar running horizontally across her face. Dark lipstick clung to her lips, and eyeshadow rested on her eyelids. She dressed in tight black clothing, and she postured herself extravagantly, smiling smugly.

Zaki recognized her as one of her most loyal lackeys, a bright, if manipulative, girl with experience running sound equipment. "Katsumi... What are you doing here?"

"Hi, Zaki! I heard that you've been having some trouble finding a high school from Ritsuko, and I think I found a place!"

"Yes...?" she asked, confused. She hadn't expected Katsumi to know about this.

The girl invited herself in, stepping onto the soft carpet. She refrained from taking off her boots beforehand, but Zaki was still too surprised to notice. "It's called Windermere Japan. It has a really, really good reputation. No one would think to look for Suzuran's former leader there!"

Zaki really did want a real education; thus, this sounded too good to be true. "What's it like?"

"The campus is huge. Lots of rich girls go there - did I mention it's all girls? Because if I didn't, now I did, and that's what it is, yeah," Katsumi babbled, bubbly.

This also sounded too suspicious to be just a coincidence. Zaki knew that Katsumi could be playing her for a fool, or could very well be using her for her own purposes. "Where is it?"

"I'll show you tomorrow. I'll meet you here at eight tomorrow morning." She began to back out of the hall. "Look, I really hate to run, but I have... things I need to be doing soon, so I'd best be off."

Knowing Katsumi, it was probably something regarding blackmail. Zaki sighed silently. She found it to be disgusting behavior, but she wouldn't say so. "You may leave then. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Goodbye!" Katsumi chirped before making her grand exit, which consisted mostly of walking down the hall and out the door. Zaki shut the door soon after, then locked it.

This... is entirely too convenient. Katsumi has to be up to something. But I might as well look into it... Maybe it's what I'm looking for.

Bored, Zaki settled into the couch and flicked on the television.

I'll just make lunch in an hour or so.