Location: School fields, sitting on top of a tree
Time frame: 1:20pm, Lunchtime
Point of view: Syaoran

A cold wind blew past me and I felt cold. Shifting then leaning to my right, I reached for my blazer jacket that lay on the branch adjacent the one I sat on. I put it on before I returned my gaze back onto the open fields below me.

I sat high above all, in the tree I saw as my place of solitude: a peaceful place away from everything and everyone; but saw everything near and far. A person was in one of the music rooms. She played the piano; another individual was in the library. She was reading a book by the window and she had not moved from that position since I last looked forty or so minutes ago; beyond those buildings, I saw the school's clock tower. It was barely readable from this distance, but it indicated it was one-twenty-five; and then out here in the fields with me was a large group: they sat in the centre of the fields, in a circle. Sometimes I could not hear them, but other times I could as their thunderous laughter travelled to me, disturbing the peace around me.

This group I was taking this moment to observe was the social elites of the school—many of them were also the school's high academic achievers and were prefects of the school: Hiiragizawa Eriol, a transfer from England, was Head Boy; Daidouji Tomoyo, a musical and creative individual, was Head Girl; and Kinomoto Sakura, a girl that I associate little with hence know little about—she was the Head of Social. All were in my homeroom and took one or two subjects I had.

There were others who commanded the school also, but those did so with their arrogance and their large and inflated egos. Ashida Kansuke was such a person: he was an individual with the reputation of being the school's star soccer player with decent looks that turned most of the females of this school into salivating automatons. Those who idolise and follow him are foolish however: he is a Neanderthal, a pompous and narrow-minded individual who cared only about and for himself.

I spotted such female presently: she had been deliberately pushed into the guy by a few who sat beside her and now she was smitten in his arms. I thought disdainfully: for someone who had enough intelligence to be a school prefect, she could not judge someone of good character. This girl—this Kinomoto Sakura, swooned over a cocksure loser.

I moved my attention away from the group and back onto the letter I brought with me to school today. It was from Meiling, my cousin back home. She was the only one who regularly wrote to me of news back home. We correspond on a weekly basis, primarily through e-mail, but on rare occasions, she decides to correspond through the old fashion way. She told me that she had little to tell on this occasion; the letter comprised of light news about school.

My place of residence is currently Japan , but my ‘home' was back in Hong Kong . I came to Japan to complete the last two years of high school and to experience the life in this country. It was a choice based on my interest in mechanics; and with Japan being the largest automobile producers in the world, it was an ideal choice. With my studies being top priority, the closest thing in pursuing that interest was my part time job at a petrol station near my apartment. This year, I hope to find a place to study with the professionals and learn the ropes from them as I worked and studied at school.

However, my focus was further abroad: I plan to head over to Europe and attend a university over there after finishing this year.

Reading the last paragraph of the letter, I felt a weight pull at my chest as it read that my mother had been in regular contact with one of her business associates and his daughter. This told me that Mother has yet another plan to befriend this business associate's daughter to introduce to me. My mother interfered with areas of my life that I wished she did not, but my mother was a strong-minded individual with a level of authority that could order an army of men. My wishes were to have this part of my life be decided by me, but I have learnt to never go against her desires forthrightly and untactfully. This was yet another occasion that I must see through and hopefully find a way out of it.

I folded the letter back up then returned it to my bag. The school bell sounded. It was time to head back. I grabbed my bag and descended down the tree.

It was relatively quiet as I made my way down the hallway to my next class: calculus. I suspect most were waiting for the final bell to sound before making a start to their fifth period class as I only saw a handful of people here, at their lockers getting their gear out.

This two storey building was where the mathematics, history, geography, and language classes were held. Calculus was on the lower level and was the third door around the corner ahead of me.

Fast and loud footsteps then disturbed the quietness; and it got louder with each moment. Someone then called my name from behind:

“Li—hey, Li!”

I turned around. It was Yamazaki.

Yamazaki Takashi, he was a former classmate that I had befriended when I first came to this school last year. I no longer had classes with him, but occasionally we still socialised outside of classes.

Several more loud stomps, he finally reached me in a pant. Catching his breath, he placed all of his weight onto my right shoulder before he asked,

“Do you have a calculator I can borrow, Li? I have a statistics test and I forgot to bring my calculator. Please say you do?!” he said between pants.

“I have one,” I replied. Yamazaki's expression lit up; I halted his hopeful expression as I told him, “but I might require it for my next class.”

He grabbed my shoulder with strength and desperation as he said to me, “Oh you have to let me borrow it! I have a test—please mate, you have to lend it to me!”

I sighed at his disorganisation: if he had a test today, he should have made sure he had everything for it the night before instead of standing here before me pleading for a missed item that he needed so desperately.

The final bell to fifth period sounded. He remained standing before me with even more urgency as I seemed to be his last hope. A moment passed before I finally took compassion on him and parted ways with my calculator.

“Thanks... thanks so much! You saved me from failing the test!” he said as he shook my shoulder jovially. My books dropped to the ground upon his frenzied shakes.

“Sorry!” he apologised. “Thanks!” He then scuttled speedily back in the direction he came from.

I sighed once more as I retrieved my scattered books and stationery on the floor: he was a prefect, yet he was one of the most disorganised people I have met.

I resumed. The hallway was now crowded with people—some at their lockers getting their gear out and others making their way into classes. Appearing before me, were several from the group I saw sitting in the fields during lunchtime, rowdily making their way to class as well: the one known as Kinomoto Sakura appeared distressed as two of her friends laughed uncontrollably around her.