Elise's POV
It's finally the end of summer here in Japan, which means... school starts tomorrow.
To be honest? I don't like school. I hate waking up early. I hate sleeping early. And most of all? I just don't like being told what to do.
This is technically my second time in Japan. I grew up in the Philippines, but my dad's Japanese, and my mom's Filipina. Which is exactly why I'm here. According to my dad, "You'll get a better education in Japan." Yeah, sure.
So today, I was at a friend's party, lowkey-tipsy... and I wanted to leave. People kept staring at me, and the longer I stayed, the more uncomfortable I felt.
Just as I reached the front gate, someone grabbed my arm. Then two others followed, grabbing me too.
What. The. Hell.
They started dragging me back inside the house. I tried pulling away, but they only tightened their grip.
"Come on, beautiful. We just want some fun. Right, boys?" one of them said.
"Yeah, just go along with it and we'll be gentle, okay?"
"Let me go!" I yelled, about to kick one of them, when—
"Dude, she said let her go."
And then—bam. One punch to the guy's face sent him flying. The other two turned to fight, but the guy who saved me? He punched the second one twice in the jaw, then kicked him in the stomach.
The last one? Yeah, he ran like a coward.
That's when I realized—we were surrounded. People were watching. Recording. Whispering. I looked at my savior. He looked back at me. And... yeah, I had to admit—he looked fine.
Before I could even speak, he grabbed my wrist and started running. We stopped only when we reached a nearby park.
I was out of breath, so I plopped down on the nearest bench—not realizing...
"Wait, no! Don't—nevermind." the guy said.
"Huh?" I replied.
And then I saw it. Red paint. All over the bench. All over my skirt. Great. Just great. Now it looks like I got my period on the first day back in Japan. Lovely.
I groaned and mumbled some very creative curses "Tangina naman oh". Before I could finish, the guy threw his camo jacket on my face.
"What's this?" I asked.
"A jacket. Obviously."
"It's not even cold."
"Use it to cover your skirt."
Oh. I see. I hesitated. The paint would ruin it.
"Just use it," he repeated.
I wrapped the jacket around my waist. When I looked up to say thank you, he was already walking away.
"Wait—your jacket!"
"Keep it." he said without turning around.
"What?"
And then he left.
I stood there, completely lost in thought. Processing everything. I must've looked stupid just standing alone in the park. Eventually, I made my way home.
I flopped onto my bed and stared at the ceiling, thinking about what happened. Why did that moment keep replaying in my head? In the end, I fell asleep...
...
...
...
I was woken up by my alarm.
7:30 a.m.?!
Oh no. No, no, no!
Class starts at 8:00 and it's my first day at a new school?! Not happening! I rushed through the shower, skipped breakfast (sorry, scrambled eggs), and ran out to catch the bus— Only to realize there was no bus.
So... I ran. Yes. I ran like my life depended on it.
Somehow, I made it five minutes early. Panting, hair messy, heart racing—I stood at the school gate... and felt eyes on me. Was my hair that bad? I checked my phone. Nope. Still flawless. I kept walking, trying to find my classroom, when I started hearing whispers:
"Dude, she smells like shampoo."
"Sheesh."
"Girls are awesome."
Okay. That was weird. Instantaneously, a guy blocked my path.
"Excuse me," I said.
"Wanna hang out sometime?"
"Me? Hang out?"
"Yeah! What's your number?"
Seriously?
You didn't let me finish. I meant: "Of course... not.'" I walked past him, hearing his friends laugh behind me.
"Bro, I thought you were good with girls!"
"Shut up, I'm still better than you!"
And then I felt a hand grab my arm again. I turned. It was him. The same guy I just rejected. And he looked mad.
"No girl's ever rejected me like that." His grip tightened.
"Ouch—" I wasn't able to finish what I was saying because someone interrupted.
"Hey!"
We both turned toward the voice. There were two guys walking toward us. And one of them looked... familiar. Wait a second—
Could he be...