The Script

Script 01 - Hey, I'm the Scripter!

Morning 06 : 23 a.m Itou Residence

"Yuka! Wake up!" a familiar voice rangs throughout my sleeping body. "Yuka! Wake up! You'll be late!" the voice rangs once more. "I'm awake!" I replied with a soft shout. I got my self up, awaking my sleeping body. I scanned around the silent room that was mine in the first place, standing up and headed to the sturdy-looking wood wardrobe. I took my uniform out of it, not forgetting my thin pale-coloured cardigan. I went out to take a short shower, washing my thin body and my pastel hair. I got out and hopped into my uniform. Finishing myself with my thin pale-coloured cardigan and white bandana.

I got downstairs, carrying my bag upon my left arm. "Ah, there you are. Hurry up and take a seat or you'll be late!" the voice from earlier said. It was my mom. She's been my one and only family as long as I can remember. I knew my father, but he disappeared a long time ago. Leaving me a tiny legacy.

I finished my breakfast and I put my shoes on. Saying a temporary farewell to the average-looking house, I took my leave.

Morning 07 : 05 a.m. Street

On my way to school, passed some faces that I used to recognised. But then, BUZZ BUZZ! My phone received a message. 'Who could it be?' I thought to myself before checking it. I unlockednit and a message showed up from its screen.

It said :

Morning 07 : 33 a.m. Street Ways

Meet Fujioka Akemi down her shop while she's sweeping its terrace.

Ask her a regular question and part ways.

Morning 07 : 41 a.m. A Wall Beside the Street

There's a yawning cat upon a wall, pet it.

Morning 07 : 57 a.m In Front of School Gates

A boy fall off his skateboard, he then being laughed by his friends

--

Quite a short one, comparing to the usual. Well, at least that means that I don't have to do much this morning. Lucky me.

Morning 07 : 33 a.m. Street

"Ah, good morning, Yuka-chan~ How are you feeling today?" a voice stopped my footsteps. "Akemi Obaa-san, a very good morning to you too. I'm great as always. How about you?" I turned myself, facing the old woman with a smile. "I'm feeling healthy as always." the old woman laugh in the old ways as she swept her front area of the shop. I've known her since months ago. She owned the coffee shop that my friends and I often went to. We parted our ways since I have to go to school.

First thing's done now let's move onto the cat.

Morning 07 : 46 a.m. Street

I passed a few walls already but have yet encounter any cat. "Ng, Meow~" a snow-coloured cat yawned upon the cold breeze. Finally. "Well, hello there." I put my hand around its neck, tickleling it. "It's nice to be such a cat, isnt it?" I said and it replied with another 'meow'.

Morning 07 : 51 a.m Near School Gates

I continued my way to school. Tip Tap Tip Tap, my shoes tapping upon the pavement. But then, some skateboarder passed through me. "Hey! Watch your way, will you!" I shouted to warn them, although I have to make one of them fall their skateboard off in the end.

When I was about to continue to walk, there's this one skateboarder who were left behind by the group. 'This is our guy.' I thought to myself. He's skateboarding style was risky, he can't even balance himself. Without me to take him down, he would already fall off his skateboard by himself. But, just to make sure that he will fall, I rolled a small stone to his direction. And Voila! He tripped over it. Nice one, Yuka.

Work's done. Now let's go to the class and wait for another scenarion.

Morning 08 : 11 a.m. School Classroom

"Homeroom will start! I'm going to check everyone up, please get back to your seat and raise your hand." My homeroom teacher said as he walked into the podium. I gazed myself upon the window next to my left while students raising up their names when their name was called. Everything was happening according to the script. And about this script, it's the tiny legacy which my father left me. Apparently, there's sort of a thing called 'The Scripter". People who worked as a scripter made, edited, received a script about one's story. Their job was to make sure that everything happens according to the script or so. At least that is what my father told me. And that was what I am and still what I am.