I Will Return Again

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One warm spring day... The cherry blossoms spreading before my eyes bloomed and it seemed as if the petals danced in the schoolyard gracefully, just like in a movie scene. Cherry blossom trees line the road front leading to the Lotus Pond Private High School where I am headed. The schools entrance is quite famous in town and decorates the cover page of the schools brochure. A teacher who talks with pride about the cherry blossoms, there are also a few people who choose to interview for the entrance examination, because ‘I want to walk down this avenue for three years’. When I first heard that, I foolishly thought there was little to it, but when I saw this sight spread out before me, I understood exactly what they meant.

The wind, which had been gently blowing, suddenly gusted strongly, pasting my long hair against my b.u.t.t and thighs and I quickly hold down the hem of my skirt to keep it from flying up.

Whew, I’m safe, but my hair that took so long to style is now an utter mess. Well, even though I said I styled it, it’s more along the lines of combing it to get rid of my bed head. Thankfully, my hair is easy to care for, comb it smooth and ‘Voilà’ done. It very long, silky, glossy, very few split ends, and just in case I didn’t mention it, silver. Why is it silver? My mom and dad have black hair, so it’s an genetic trait pa.s.sed down here and there in my family, as an expression of supernatural power. Right, kinda like a cartoon hero.

Well, all joking aside the atavistic trait is the truth. My grandma told me a long time ago that her mother also had silver hair and told me about the trait with an unfocused look in her eyes. She said she wanted her mother"s silky, silver hair as well, but instead she inherited her father’s brunette hair. Apparently, grandma was seriously envious of her mother"s silver hair. Forgive me if it seems like I am putting down my grandmother, trust me when I say I’m not, but being envious is a very bad way to live and only hurts yourself.

Umm, sorry, seems I am digressing again. Anyway, what I’m trying to say is that I would much rather my hair to be short and black. Exactly! It’s inconspicuous and it"s a lot easier to deal with. Unfortunately, I can"t. My mother will never let me get my hair dyed or cut it.

Darn it! The wind is still so strong. Mr. Wind is more than a little insistent today, which, of course, blew something into my eye.

I pull out and open my pocket mirror from my bag to look at my eye and see my face reflected in the mirror. It still doesn’t feel real to me, this lovely girl’s face, looking back at me.

The face is small with thin, well-shaped eyebrows. The eyes are large and bright and the nose and mouth are small. The lips are smooth and colored an inviting pink. The skin is clear and snowy-white, like fine porcelain. The body is pet.i.te and still developing (I hope). The legs are long and shapely. The waist is high with a neatly defined hourgla.s.s shape. b.r.e.a.s.t.s aren’t large, but not small either. The eyes are blue, well, they would be if they weren’t heterochromatic, so the left eye is red, but I wear a blue colored contact to keep from standing out.

Even so, this is j.a.pan, so I’m a lovely girl who has a rather eye-catching appearance, thanks to my rare silver hair and blue eyes. Overall, you would say I’m extremely cute rather beautiful. Seriously, I really am cute!

This is what I look like today, but I’ve only been like this for a few weeks. Due to all the changes, no one is going to recognize me. Frankly, I look far too different from my former self, so I don’t feel like this is me yet.

I know I look like a foreigner, but trust me, I’m all j.a.panese. If you look closely you can easily see my j.a.panese features. Even so, some people sometimes speak in English to me, but that is really a big problem. My English sucks to put it mildly. I genuine j.a.panese. Good afternoon. Happy New Year. Favorite is junk food. That’s about the extent of my English.

Digressing again, I know. I ‘ve been doing that a lot lately. Back to the present situation. The c.r.a.p in my eye where I wear a contact really hurts. It"s not like I can remove the contact either, even though I wish I could. Well, let’s see if I can get whatever it is out without going to that extent.

I looking at my eye in the mirror and then move my eyes around hoping to dislodge whatever it is. Eventually, I see the offending item and take it out with my pinky. It looks like a tiny splinter of wood.

Ah, much better. Thankfully, I didn’t have to remove my contact to get it. That would have been a huge pain, because I’m not used to it and I can’t put it in without a large mirror.

I put the mirror back in my bag and look around. The students around me quickly avert their eyes.

Umm, h.e.l.lo, it"s a little too obvious, you know? Do you really think I don’t know you"ve been looking at me?

Ugh, this is going to put me in a bad mood. Not to mention my head aches just thinking about it. I would love to say I can tough it out, but unlike when I was a man, I just don’t have the strength to do so.

[Haa] I sigh and start to take the next step toward the schools gate, but I suddenly feel as if someone is looking at me strangely and look around.

A girl a head taller than I am is looking down at me grinning. She seems to want to talk to me, but I don"t really feel like it, so I immediately look away.

Oh, I forgot to introduce myself. I’m Yoshina Tsukasa, pleased to meet you. If you try to look me up on the web, you won’t get a single hit, well, most probably. Anyway, I’ll give you more details later.

I finally make it to the school and I’m standing in front of a shoe box with my name written on it. I smile bitterly over my personal information being leaked and open the door. A couple of flat rectangular objects slide out and hits me on the head. I grimace, because I think I know and look at the floor where it landed.

d.a.m.n. I was right. Love letters. One is from a man and the other a girl. Oh man, my head hurts even worse right now. h.e.l.lo, I’m a girl now and I get a letter from another girl. No thank you, I would rather receive one from a man.

“Oh, you got it today? That boy is popular and hot.” (Miyuki)

Miyuki says walking up to me and laughing.

“I feel bad and my head hurts, so I"m leaving early today.” (Tsukasa)

“You can’t do that!” (Miyuki)

“Stingy.” (Tsukasa)

I put the ‘headaches’ in my bag and change from loafers to slippers. As I’m raising back up, I see the school emblem on Miyuki’s chest. Her school emblem has a black background indicating she’s a junior, while mine has a white background for a soph.o.m.ore. I rather resent having to go through high school again, but there’s no use crying over it.

Anyway, I’m listed as Miyuki’s little sister in the family registry. Just a few short weeks ago, I was 2 years older than her.

“Tsukasa, we are going home together today, so I will meet you here after school. OK?” (Miyuki)

I don’t know about where you live, but here if the relationship changes the way you talk to each other changes. At home, Miyuki calls me ‘Onee-chan’, but outside she calls me ‘Tsukasa’. Miyuki tends to be rather good at making distinctions.

“Okay Mii… Onee-chan.” (Tsukasa)

As for me, I still haven’t been able to get out of the habit just yet. I still call her Mii-chan sometimes and have to hurriedly correct myself. Miyuki, of course, laughs at my lapse and I look away embarra.s.sed.

“Let’s be a little more careful.” (Miyuki)

“I know.” (Tsukasa)

I reply weakly and head to the stairs that lead to my cla.s.sroom. That att.i.tude is totally Miyuki. I’m unhappy, even though I know it can"t be helped, because she’s my older sister in this world.

“Yo, Tsukasa.” (Hayato)

I didn’t really expect to meet him while heading up to the second floor. He’s my former best friend and a senior again, because he had been absent for most of last year for various reasons. So, now I’m in high school with him again.

I haven’t told him anything about what happened to me, so from my point of view, I"m just his junior. Therefore, I have to greet him as such.

"Good morning, Hayato-sempai.” (Tsukasa)