SuNNY-ShO-ShUN 黒潮

*Ichigo*

Sunny was used to it; the rumor she was hafu [mixed] spread like wildfire. She didn't see herself that way. Her father was mixed Japanese and French; he was born in France. He married her mother, who was a hundred percent nihonjin [japanese person]. Didn't that make her a hundred percent Japanese with her mother's half? Sunny thought when she reflected on the matter.

She inherited a few traits from her grandparents—bright eyes, light-colored hair, and so on. In middle school, Sunny would tell people she wore lenses and dyed her hair. It worked at first, and then people found out.

Sunny was not cast aside, but people, primarily adults, reacted strangely. Male students became a little sleazy, and some men acted carelessly. She was sure if she possessed the ability to mind-read, she would find them having the same thoughts as Mori San.

"If it's not true, you could at least answer. It seems true to me since you have set your eyes on someone else's boyfriend. Isn't it so, Asano San?"

"Mori San, please avoid speaking in my stead," replied my school's idol, Asano Sumire San.

Here came another stupid shoujo type rule, beautiful people were shipped together. So in Sunny's situation, Asano Sumire San was the perfect match for Matsumoto San Sunny thought as Mori San continued her verbal harassment.

There were many clichés in Japan. Sunny used to imagine they were exaggerated and reserved for the mangas realm. Living in Japan, the girl discovered the clichés were close to reality.

"Please, tell us, Watanabe San," pursued Mori, "it would be nice if you filled us in on your culture."

The sarcasm in Mori's voice made Sunny's eyes twitch, but she tried to keep her composure, and so Mori pursued.

"Is it true that French people kiss everyone they meet?"

"Not everybody, just friends, acquaintances. It's just a greeting," Sunny replied.

Are you stupid or what, Sunny? Why are you answering to this provocation, You know this will not end in your favor, your brain is beeping with alerts and your stomach is knotting with fright, and the break of sweat on your forehead is screaming for you to shut your stupid mouth, why are you replying Sunny?

Yet Sunny continued her mental hara-kiri and added, "as I said, it's only a greeting," she replied, hoping the debate would end with her answer. She could not have been more wrong.

Sunny gave Mori San the fuel she needed to burn the house down.

"Is that so, well, in that case, you can kiss anyone as long as you know them, right?" Mori said while looking around at every girl in the room to see if she had their approval in her punitive inquisition.

Some girls watched with satisfaction glistening in their eyes and turned their heads as soon as Sunny's darting eyes caught theirs red-handed.

"Basically," Sunny replied, OMG, someone, please cut my tongue.

What am I trying to prove here? I've said too much, Sunny thought as her palms sweated in panic. She clenched her uniform skirt, which helped her to calm her boiling nerves.

"How interesting," said the now gleaming Mori San, "you can kiss whoever who walks past this door. It will be a fellow student who you know."

The roof was on fire, no one would supply Sunny with a bucket of water, and she was the only person who would burn.

The boys always knocked and came in at the back door, whereas the teacher only came in from the front door, giving direct access to the teacher's desk. Mamoru always knocked. It was an immutable law of nature.

Mamoru was the student who stressed so much over his grades that his face had become a pimple farm. If it was a test day like this infamous Wednesday, a new nation freshly bloomed on his face and set out to conquer its surface. Sunny noticed that his face shone like a diamond with a new species of pimples starting an unknown lifespan earlier in the morning.

Sunny had empathy for Mamoru and most of her fellow high school students. Submerged with so much work, after-school activities, and cram school that 3 out of 5 people severely suffered from acne.

Sunny saw herself as a scam victim as she quickly found out that the drama idols on TV were what the country had best to offer. The ordinary nihonjin looked for most of them nowhere near what you see on TV. It was the reason why people worshipped the beautiful and preserved them like endangered species.

Mori San's request was so immature that it left Sunny speechless.

••••

As an ally of justice, she would not let Mori the witch have her way; Sunny had no intention of declining Mori's request. She would show mouthy Mori all men were equal, pimple, or not.

If Mamoru were a friend in France, she would probably greet him that way. Even if she kept repeating it, the 17-year-old she was hearts thumped in anticipation of the moment when their cheeks would meet. Yet, she was ready to welcome Mamoru with a French greeting under the sneers of her not-so-friendly classmates. Someone knocked at the door while opening it at the same time.

Sunny grabbed the person by the collar; eyes closed, she kissed his-Aré! What is this?

The skin was soft and smooth; she felt her lips shifting; no, the person turned his head. No-no-no, don't move, don't change your position otherwise- she thought, but it was too late.

Sunny's lips locked on something softer. She heard no laughter; the silence was too profound. What was this sensation? She opened an eye and followed up with the other while she backed away, bumping into Shino San's desk.

OMG, you must be kidding me.

Mori's prank had taken the form of a Matryoshka doll, concealing a bigger and more playful surprise. Scarlet red cheeks eyes covered by his bob haircut strands, Matsumoto stood motionless under the shock of what occurred.

Sunny only heard him whisper, "Ichigo [strawberry]," while biting his lower lip.