((I know you looked at the chapter name, thinking, “YAY! More Kano!” Well I am here to prove these reactions appropriate. Here I give you more Kano. You’re welcome.))

I wander down the halls, looking for first period. I have music playing in my head as I drift past the people at their lockers. A blond-headed girl steps in my path, and I look up at her. “Hannah, what do you want—?”

She launches into speaking like she always does. “Who was that green-haired guy I saw you talking to in the street out there?”

“She was a girl—"

“Oh, I see.”

I roll my eyes. “Hannah, I’m not—"

She files into step beside me. We have almost all our classes together. She’s my best friend, one of my only friends. She has glasses like me, but she’s taller than me. Everyone in this school is. I’m really short, for a senior in high school. Only 5’2. I turn the corner, and Hannah turns with me, shooting me rapid-fire questions, of which I usually answer with one word.

“So the he was really a she?”

“Yes.”

“Do you know her?”

“No.”

“You bumped into her?”

“Yes.”

“On purpose?”

“No.”

“So what—"

“Hannah,” I say, turning to her. “We passed your homeroom three minutes ago.”

“Crap!” She says, jogging in place. “See you later!” She waves at me, dashing back down the corridor.

I raise my hand and drop it again. I walk into my class, and as usual, I’m one of the first ones. I sit down at my desk and fiddle with my phone, regretting how I’d forgotten my headphones at home. I puff out my cheeks and text Keiji even though it’s bad to. Surprisingly, he answers back right away, saying:

Teacher’s not here yet. Wut u doin?

I roll my eyes as I text back: Nothing, teacher not here either. And use correct English, please.

U can’t tell me wut 2 do!

I can if you want dinner tonight.

Alright! Sorry! Teacher coming. Bye!

I tilt my head to the door, where the usual flood of students are coming in two seconds before the bell. I don’t know why they spend their time talking in the hallways when they could talk in here, and the teacher’s not even here yet. I wonder what happened to cause him to be so late. Finally, fifteen minutes before first period bell, he dashes in, hair flying everywhere, papers flying out from an unclosed binder. All the students freak out and ask him what’s wrong, but I just lean back and stare at the ceiling. Frankly, I’ve seen worse.

He said that on the way here he almost got run over ((True story)) and he’s really freaked out about it. The car ran into a power line, which—of all the places—led directly to my house. Just then I got a call from my dad saying that he was going to try to fix it himself, so he wanted me and the others to live in my apartment for a few days. I replied with an, “I’d love to!” even though it was one of the absolute worst ideas I’d ever heard. I don’t need four more people living in my apartment. It’d be too crowded. But I couldn’t just say no.

I pushed my glasses up on my nose and continued to drift through the day—until lunch, that is. Hannah plopped right next to me and did what she always did. I just laid my cheek in my hand and answered her questions.

“Did Mr. Herrera almost get run over? For real?”

“I guess…”

“Do you care?”

“Nope.”

“You’re so mean! Your History teacher almost died.”

“Hannah,” I say, shifting my eyes to her, “I don’t care.”

She crosses her arms and puffs out her cheeks and flips her hair like most girls do these days. It makes them seem prissy and undignified, with a bonus of just plain annoying. I just roll my eyes and faceplant the table, not wanting to move anymore. Sometimes I don’t know why I hang out with this crazy woman. Maybe it’s because she’s the complete opposite of me; girly, and afraid of flying spheres. If she sees a ball flying towards her, she will scream and try to run from it.

“So anyway, what’s the situation at home?” Hannah asks, snapping me out of my thinking time.

I shift my whole body towards her, and she flinches, thinking I’m going to smack her arm like I do a lot, but I just sigh. “It’s like usual. Dad and I struggling to support the family. It’s not so bad. Anyways, that stupid car that almost ran over Mr. Herrera ran into the telephone pole that ran into my neighborhood, so dad wants me and all my hill midgets to live in my apartment. I wish he just got run over.”

Hannah sucks in a breath, and I realize what I said. She’s had bad experiences with cars before. I clap a hand over my mouth. “I-I didn’t mean it—"

“I know you didn’t mean it.” She says quietly, and looks down to her lap.

After a really long awkward silence, I say, “Come on, the bell’s about to ring…” she silently nods and gets up to throw away her barely touched food. When we’re almost to her classroom, I whirl on her, stepping in front of her. “Hey, try to feel better, okay?”

She looks slightly dazed as she mutters, “Okay.”

I feel a sting in my chest that moves up to my head as I realize what I’d done. “I-I’m so sorry!” I cry as I dash down the hall towards my classroom, leaving her calling after me. I don’t turn around or attempt to look backwards as I sprint through the rows of people trying to get into their classes, horrified at what I’d done.

_____________________________________________________

School ended like it started, with me drifting. I walked over to the other schools, where the students were forced to sit in the hot sun on the playground, I’d already picked Keiji and we were searching for Ama when we saw her, on her butt on the hot sand, glasses askew, her little friend Hibiya standing above her, yelling at someone. Keiji and I immediately ran over there, where a big buff guy was taking Hibiya by the collar and hefting him up, but Keiji tore him away, setting Hibiya down next to Ama.

The guy laughed and pointed at me. “What grade are you in, fifth? Keiji, you know this runt?”

Keiji face contorted in rage. He’s protective that way. “This is my older sister! Don’t—"

I put my hand on his chest, and his face morphed into one of confusion. “Keiji,” I say, stepping up close to the bully. “I’ll handle this.”

Hibiya yells from behind me. “How can you?! You’re tiny!”

I turn to look at him. “Thanks,” I say sarcastically, “But I’ve—oof!” The bully took advantage of this distraction and pushed me down, dirtying my uniform that I just washed. I make a sound that resonates from deep inside my throat.

“Ooh,” Keiji says, stepping aside. “You’ve done it now.”

I feel my eyes turn maroon with rage. “Leave. Go home. Never bully anyone again. Do you understand?”

He says “Y-Yes ma’am.” His cronies look confused and they back away, probably thinking I’m going to shoot lasers from my eyes next.

I get up only to double over in a coughing fit, my vision crossing and looping the world seems to be tilting. I feel Keiji lift my small body onto his back like he does every time this happens. Ama rushes to my side and tells me off for giving more orders than I needed to, but I know she’s concerned. When my vision clears and I look around, Hibiya is staring at me, in awe.

“How’d you do that?” he asks.

Before I can respond, Ama smiles at him. “She’s got a way with people.” She says, “But it’s been a long day for her, and the sun’s… really hot, so I think we should get her home now. See you later, Hibiya!” She marches off in the direction of the house, but then I remember what dad said.

“Wait…! Dad… we have to… my apartment…” that’s all I manage to say, my heart hammering in my chest trying to keep up with the sudden speaking request.

I feel Keiji laugh, causing me to bounce up and down. “Let’s pick up the other’s first.” He says, as we leave the school and all the students staring in awe.

___________________________________________

I just realized all of us have a ‘freakish’ trait.

I’m freakishly short.

Keiji’s freakishly tall.

Ama’s freakishly smart.

Aki and Nagisa are both freakishly cute, with their matching blond hair and blue eyes. They can also be freakishly scary at some points, and also really freakishly annoying.

What a bunch.

With my overall shortness, people think I’m really young. Even though it should be flattering, it’s really not. My birth mother was really short, so I guess that’s where I contracted that from. I’m walking out the door, saying that I’m well enough to take a walk. Ama seriously doubts it, and usually when she doubts something it’s a bad idea. I won’t die, though. Worst case scenario: I faint, which happens all the time, so I’m used to it.

I’m in the far end of town when I see a hint of blond hair turn the corner into an alley. I pull my hood down and follow it. ((Because I like shiny things. :3)) Every time I turn a corner the person turns a corner. I only catch a glimpse before it’s gone. A heel of a black boot, a coattail of a jacket of some sort; but it’s only a matter of time before I catch up. If I end up following the wrong person, then I can use my handy dandy power to get out of a dangerous situation. I just can’t overexert myself again. That… would be a problem.

I come to a dead end and scratch my head in confusion. I see a ladder in the far corner. Starting the climb, I hear a voice sound from behind me.

“I didn’t go that way, you know.”

I stifle a scream as I jump. He scared me so badly all my hairs are standing on end! I lose my balance and the ladder and fall, but luckily I was close to the ground. I still stumble and crash against the wall, rubbing my head. I glare at the boy. “Hey! Don’t go scaring people like that!”

He lifts his hands in a half-shrug. “I’m truly sorry, really~! I didn’t mean to scare you, little girl!”

I glower at him some more, but he just smirks at me, with ticks me off more. “I’m seventeen years old! I’m not a ‘little girl’!”

He walks up next to me, puts his hand on his forehead, and swings it out, clearing my head. My blood is boiling; this guy’s infuriating! “You’re so short!”

“You’re only taller than me because of those boots!”

“Whatever you say~!”

“Just—stop talking!” his mouth closed quickly. I sucked in my breath and hid my eyes from him. After a while the effect wore off. “So you were the one Hibiya was talking about! Yes, you’re very interesting indeed~! Oi, are you okay?”

I was clutching my stomach, with my teeth gritted in pain; the aftereffects of the last order I gave were still circulating in my system. I dropped to one knee and heard the boy rush to my side, looking worried. He was saying things, “Hibiya said that something like this happened! I need to get her to base, quick—"

I lifted my hand. “No, no. I’m—"(cough, cough,)“—okay. You don’t have to do anything. I’m fine.” I forced myself to stand up, and after many painstaking minutes of refusing help, I lifted myself up, leaning on the wall. Seeing that I was okay, the boy was smirking at me again.

“‘I’m fine,’ you say? Well, I say different.”

“I don’t care what you say.”

“Nee, nee~! You’re so mean~!”

“I know.”

“She doesn’t even deny it~!” he says, as if he’s talking to some crowd. He’s almost as annoying as everyone else that comes within a ten mile radius of me and speaks to me. The boy and I exchange names and part ways, but he said something rather strange before leaving me.

“Hey, if you want to know how to control those eyes of yours, contact me.” He handed me a wadded up piece of paper with ten numbers on it.

I stared at it, wondering if I should bring my siblings along with me. I made up my mind and set out for home, clutching the wall and staggering most of the way.

What a tiring day.