More sm_monthly and some things with work.
Well, work was ok (I got three dollars in tips!), but seriously, there are some people who just need to chill out. Shoot the breeze. Relaaaaaaaax. Mistakes haaaaaaappen. You won't get fired for it. (Not a manager. A new person.)

And two of the workers just figured out I was wierd (to the one that was here longer, I said, "I know I'm wierd. You just realized that?" :p). One mentioned I'm like a tour guide when I do orders.

Iiiinteresting. o_O

Anyways, as I do my Cyprus paper, here is my newest sm_monthly drabble:


Hadaka
by papirini


Money, money, money!
Always sunny
In the rich man's world!
-ABBA




"Hadaka-chaaan!"

Naked. That's what they called her. She remembered it all so well, even after the years had passed. Even after everything had changed.

After crayons transformed into oil pastels. After the pressing issue learning to read and write was replaced by the more pressing issues of balancing work, school, and life. After five grubby, chubby stubs on the hand thinned out and became slender, soft fingers. After the scrawny sea urchin had matured into the sleek mermaid.

Michiru looked at the group, her former peers at the elementary school. They had gathered to celebrate the 100th anniversary of the school, and everyone had gathered in the cafeteria for one final get together. She looked, and almost shuddered upon recognizing them all. It was as if none of them had changed in the years she left.

"Hadaka-chan! Hadaka-chan!"

She was born poor in a world that paid homage to wealth. The neighborhood she had lived near when she grew up was very upper-class and high mainteneance - a small town for the rich and famous, where mansions with names lined gold-paved streets. She, on the other hand, had lived in a wooden house with a thatched roof in the fishing village, with a dirt road the only route to society.

Her father barely made ends meet, and there were days when Michiru would go out and fish in stormy waters with her family. Sometimes she would even go out to the rich people and beg, just so the family could afford food. The nearby fishery took everything the family found and gave them little in return. It was the 1980's, after all; what was one poor family when hundreds of well-off families could pay for the services provided?

She went to school every day in ragged clothing, and only had rice and homemade milk - no treat - for lunch. She was picked on and teased every day by the kids who wore new, top-of-the-line childrens clothing, who came to school every day with new toys and a different lunchbox for each weekday.

"Hey, Hadaka-chan!" She could remember food being thrown at her. "Are you hungry? Have some food!"
"Why doesn't your dad get a real job, Hadaka-chan?" The hounded her in the hallways. "Maybe you'd have some decent clothes!"
"Ewww! You hair! Ewww!!" People pulled her hair, put mud in it. "Hadaka-chan is so dirty!!"

The torment occurred every day. When she went to the bathroom, people peeked up over the stalls to see if she went like a dog. When she walked home, she was taunted until she got to the border of her neighborhood, because they didn't want to get tainted by poverty. When she decided to take up the violin, and scraped up money to get lessons, she was jeered and she one day found her used violin broken in her teacher's garbage.

That day, she vowed she would get even. She vowed that she would get more money than everyone ever, and that she would do it all on her own. She'd show them. She'd show them who the poor person really was.

---

It was by a stroke of fate that she got out of her little shanty many years ago. A virtuoso had come to the school to play, and decided to pay a visit to the music room, where everyone who could play an instrument was assembled. Michiru had been there, as usual, being silently mocked by the richer students, when he came in, his eye looking on all the violin students.

"Play," he commanded. "I want everyone to play!"

Obediently, the violinists did as he told them, as did Michiru, on her second, borrowed, violin. Out of sync everyone played, to the point where the virtuoso looked ready to cover his ears.

"Oh!!!" He finally snapped his fingers and pointed. "You! Play on note for me."

His finger landed on Michiru, who nervously stood up and played what he asked. All through the performance, she could hear the snickers of fellow students, but nonetheless she grit her teeth, determined to finish her performance.

"Hmm." The virtuoso finally nodded as she finished. "Good. Good. That shows promise....a lot of promise."
"Thank you...."
"Tell me." The man stared at her. "What is your name?"
"Hadaka-chan!"

Michiru never figured out who it was that shouted it, but as soon as it was put out, the entire class burst into laughter. Michiru could feel her face turn bright red as the humiliation grew, and without another word she ran out of the room.

"Kaiou-san! Class!" The teacher didn't even bother to chase her. "All right, class, settle down...."

Tears streamed down to young girl's face as she ran down the hall, her used violin still in hand. Her dream of beating the children seemed so far away at that moment; she felt defeated that not even the grown-ups cared. With no regard to who was in her way, she flew into the earest bathroom and locked herself into a stall.

It's not fair..... she let herself go and cried tears that showed no signs of stopping. It's not fair...!!

She was alone for ten minutes before she heard the sound of the door opening. She peered underneath the stall and saw large padded shoes coming in her direction; she sensed an adult. Then she saw the shoes stop in front of her, and the knock on the stall door came.

"Go away," she whispered as she buried her head into her knees. "Please go away, sensei."
"I am not sensei," came the reply. "May I come in?"

Michiru's eyes widened as she heard the deep manly voice of the virtuoso fill her ears. It seemed shocking to her that a man would even come into the girls' bathroom; boys were taught never to go into the girls' bathroom. Nevertheless, she wiped her tears and opened the door.

"Thank you." He walked in, a calm expression on his face. "Poor girl. That was rude, what they did back there. Why did they call you that?"
"B....." It seemed scary to talk to a grown-up about her problems, let alone cry in front of one; her dead mother once said big girls didn't cry. "Because....."
"Because you are poor?"
"M..." She started crying again. "I live in the fishing village, but no one else does."
"And they make fun of you for it?"

Michiru didn't respond; she just sniffed and rubbed the tears from her eyes. At this, the virtuoso sat down on the toilet and placed a hand on Michiru's shoulder. Michiru's eyes widened at this; no one had ever acknowledged her in that way before.

"You are better than that." He smiled at her as she looked up. "Look, when I saw you play the violin, and I saw your hands, what do you think I saw?"
".....Dirt?"
"No. Potential."

It was the first time anyone had ever told her that.

"There is nothing for you here with these kids." He took her hands up. "Little girl, I want you to come with me. I want you and your family to come with me, and I would teach you to become something you never dreamed of being. If I talked to your family about it, would you do it?"

It was the open sesame to all her dreams.

---

Now she stood, a girl of seventeen, about to enter into the cafeteria of a school she had not set foot in in almost 8 years. She had acquired money and fame beyond all imaginings, even beyond that of the richest kids in her school. When her mentor, the virtuoso, died, he had left her a great deal of money; that alone made her a wealthy girl. But through the principles her mentor taught her, she earned millions in her own right.

Now was the time to show the kids that had treated her so horribly what she had become. Now, she decided, was the day she would finally prove that she could be one of them. There was no more Hadaka-chan; there was Michiru Kaiou, self-made millionaire.

"So," before she could properly step in, however, she heard a voice near the doorway. "I hear Kaiou-san is coming."
"Bah, Kaiou-san." She recognized them as two people - a girl and boy, each her age -whom had teased her as a child. "I bet she's coming here because she thinks she's better than us, huh?"
"Well, I talked to the gang about it, and let me tell you," She could almost hear the boy sniff. "They agree with me. She's just no good."
"Just because she has more money now."
"That's right!" The boy and girl both snorted. "I'd like to see her come in now. I wouldn't give that hoity-toity bitch the time of day."
"She's probably just a Homebako-chan now." There was a giggle. "Maybe she's dressed in some extravagant purple mink or something....."

That was when Michiru stopped listening. She could feel herself stewing with anger at the words they spoke. Before, she was hadaka, naked. Now, they called her homebako. A wastebasket. She had a mind to go in and harrangue the two for insulting her in such a way, for the fact that she had made her own money while they freeloaded off the dwindling wealth of their parents and grandparents.

You are better than that.

The words of her mentor echoed in her ears as her foot hung in midair, about to walk into the cafeteria. She gave a pause at this; she then turned around and walked away. Her heels clacking on the floor echoed through the quiet hallway as she made her way to the front doors of the school, her hand clenching her purse tightly.

Outside, Haruka's car was parked in the front, and Haruka herself was standing by the side of the car, waiting for her.

"You're back quickly," she remarked as Michiru gave a sigh. "Was it that bad in there when you went in?"
"I didn't even go in."
"Huh." A flicker of surprise flashed across her face. "Why not?"

At this, Michiru looked up into Haruka's eyes. Haruka, who, among a select few had never made fun of her for her wealth, or her lack of wealth. One who had never belittled her because of her past, or because of her present. The only other person in her life, other than the virtuoso on the bathroom toilet, who knew and had accepted the Michiru within, cloaked in warmth, over the Hadaka who once stood in front of prying eyes, unclothed and unloved.

There was only acceptance in those eyes.

"It wasn't worth it."

fin