* I've been trying to post this in quizilla for a while, but that site hates me and doesn't let me post anything. Not stories, short stories, or even pictures. Keeps saying something about not being able to post Html codes or something
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Aoi fidgets on her seat as she waited impatiently for Komiyama, the headmistress, to make herself seen. The middle aged woman had called her up to her office early in the morning and had her wait in the large office with objects too sharp to be kept near Aoi's small, twitching fingers.
She was seated in a couch Komiyama had bought a week ago with her fingers intertwined together, her legs kicking back and forth, and her big blue eyes glued to the headmistress's desk. There was a laptop on that desk, and said laptop was wide open and screaming for her to take a peek.
And so the small girl grinned and without thinking twice ran towards the desk and jumped onto the seat. She spun around three times because of the force and then pulled her legs up to sit on her knees so she was tall enough to see the screen and the keyboard.
“Let's see what we have here.” she giggle with mischief. “Triple X manuscript—Komiyama you sly old lady you. Open mail. Send to: DaIntelChief@BBA.net.”
Aoi typed away as fast as she could on the laptop with a large grin on her face. She knew that if she got caught, Komiyama would contact Mr. Dickinson, and even though he was no longer her legal guardian, Aoi didn't want the old man to come see her and scold her.
“From: TheBlueSnowflake@BBA.net.” she thought of changing that mail, but it was too much of a hassle and she was too lazy for it. “Hi, Chief! Say hello to everyone for me and make sure to hit Tyson in the head for me. Also, slap that new team monkey you got to replace me. Give grandpa a hug and say it is from his favorite grandchild. Bye-bye!”
She liked whispering what she wrote to herself because it helped her write correctly. It was troublesome to reread it over and over again and hearing it aloud helped her register the words better. She signed her name at the bottom and hit send before proceeding to delete any evidence that would give away that she had contacted the people she had been forced to cut all ties with.
Aoi jumped out of the seat and ran toward the couch, jumping into the air and landing on her stomach as soon as the door to the office open. Komiyama, a tall, dark haired woman with sharp angry eyes walked in glaring. She didn't look her age and in fact looked like she was in her forties: tall, thin, and young looking.
“You bathe in the blood of the young.” Aoi whispered curiously as she peeked from above the couch's arm rest.
“What the hell are you talking about?” the woman snapped. “Sit up straight! Keep your feet off the couch and sit properly—for goodness sake, you are wearing a skirt!”
Aoi laughed. “How do you keep young when you throw a fit for every little thing? I know you bathe in the blood of the young. Or is it something else?”
“The souls of first borns.” the woman answered.
Aoi raised a thin white brow at her. “I think I do believe that.”
“You should, first born.”
“First born? How do you know if I'm a first born if I was dumped on the streets the moment I opened my eyes?” Aoi asked with mild curiosity.
“It is exactly why I know you were a first born: accidents are always thrown away and prayed to be forgotten.”
“. . . .That was dark,” Aoi clapped her hands and laughed as Komiyama grinned.
