see her

April 13, 1977: Takayama, Gifu Prefecture

The cherry blossoms bloomed and fell onto the arriving students of Miyamura Academy for Girls–a prestigious school founded 3 years prior. Parents took pictures of their first years as they wished them luck on their first day. While former students mourned their upperclassmen who’d gone off to the college of their choice.

The entrance ceremony lasted far too long for Misato Ohara. At first she’d fiddled with her bag, then her skirt, then her unnecessarily puffy sleeves. Forty minutes into the speech and she was ready to tear out her hair.

Forty one minutes. It was over, finally. Just as she went to stand, another person stepped up to the microphone. Misato made a face and sat back down–although it was more of a slouch. She squirmed and wriggled in chair, her impatience getting the better of her. “Stop moving,” a firm voice said. It was her mother. She obeyed and fixed her posture. As much as Misato preferred her mother to be in the ground, she was terrified. She had to do what she said.

The girl who stepped up began to speak into the microphone.

“Hello, girls! My name is Taeko Murakami, and I will be your student council representative for this school year.”

She spoke with pride as she put a piece of her long, dark hair behind her ear. “I will announce decisions and run the programs. If you have any questions, you can come to me. But of course you can always address our student council president.”

The president’s eyes lit as Taeko introduced her. The stout girl sat still yet erect in her chair. Her eyebrows furrowed and she politely beckoned Taeko to bend down to her level. The two had an inaudible conversation for about thirty seconds before Taeko grabbed the mic again. “She’s a bit shy…” Taeko chuckled. “Our president, Kyoko Hanamori, knows much more than me. She would appreciate it if you would welcome her as your own.”

The crowd bursts into applause. All were cheering except for Misato, who’d fallen asleep in her chair.

“Enjoy your first day, Misato.”

Her mother said firmly, holding out her hand. The girl eyed the stretched out palm. “You’re going to grow out of this little phase.”

Misato’s eyes followed the woman until she was out of sight, blending in with the sea of people walking towards and past her.

Misato sluggishly made her way to class 1-C. The new wood of the doors and walls glistened when touched by the morning sun. She covered her eyes, the large window beaming in on her. Just as she motioned for her face she felt a force ‘bump’ her to the ground. Misato’s bag spilled out, painting the floor with pencils and loose paper. A shrill voice came from above her.

“Oh gosh, I’m so sorry…” Panicked hands scrambled to pick up the loose objects before then giving them to Misato. “I’m really, really sorry!” The voice that belonged to the diligent hands quickly apologized and ran down the hallway.

Misato sighed and rummaged through her bag, picking herself off of the floor.

Pencils,

Notebooks,

ID…

Where’s the ID?

The ID belonging to Misato Ohara was now replaced with one belonging to Suzu Yamamoto. Misato picked up the strange ID that was misplaced into her bag. A picture of a girl with dark eyes and dark hair was in the center of the card. Her twisted bangs covered her low eyes as she gave an expressionless smile. Misato put the ID in her pocket and continued on to her class.