Yuuna stared at the paper in her hand, reading and rereading the words written upon it. Her eyes lifted to the sign over the gate, taking in the characters there, before going straight back to the note.
This... can't be the right place. She stared at the gate and the building behind it, and her teeth gritted. Her small hand clenched, crumpling the paper, and she found herself fighting an urge to turn around, walk right back down to the bus stop and wait for the next trolley out of there. She didn't know how long it would take the bus to arrive, but she imagined the wait would have been preferable to spending her time in the middle of nowhere in a boarding school for who knew what kind of riffraff. That stupid Gramps! He couldn't even find a decent place to send me!
There was nothing around. No metropolis, no sophisticated shopping centers, no karaoke bars, no nothing. Just this school down a trail and a small city that appeared extremely lacking in things to do, from the short glance she'd given it. Oh, she was angry. Furious, in fact. This was ridiculous! How could she be expected to live without anything around to do?
But... maybe it wouldn't be so bad. After all, this wasn't the bustling Tokyo cityscape. The people here were surely backwater, lacking in sophistication. She could rule here once more, queen of the hive as she had been before... before...
Anyway. Yuuna shook her head, derailing that train of thought as best she could. In her discomfort, her fingers had wandered up to tangle in her long brown locks, but her hands found only empty air. Her expression soured. Oh yes... I forgot. Her grandfather had convinced her a few days ago that short hair was all the rage, citing numerous fashion magazines he'd picked up at the bookstore. From Paris to Milan, all the loveliest models were sporting shorn locks, and he had been insistent that she do the same. Yuuna couldn't bear to part with her hair, however, so she'd appeased his sudden, unusual fixation with her coiffure by donning a short brown wig. He'd left her alone after that, but his words about fashion had gotten to her. She was wearing the wig now; all of her hair was tucked securely beneath it. It made sense, though, she'd reflected later, especially since she'd be attending a school for make-up artists. Disguising oneself was par for the course in such an industry, so she'd looked at it as a challenge.
She'd just decided to turn around and head back down to the path to the bus stop when the sky opened up. Squealing in outrage and surprise, she did the first thing that made sense in her head: she grabbed her luggage and dashed up the path towards the building that housed her new school. When she got there, she pushed open the door and darted inside, slamming it behind her. Just in time, too, for the rain decided to pour down with a vengeance. She winced when she heard the crack of lightning and the resounding crash of thunder; storms still terrified her, and she wanted nothing more than to run and hide under a blanket.
But it wouldn't do to show weakness on her first day here. If she was going to be the queen of the hive, she'd have to toughen up. Toughen up, Yuuna. You can do this. She sucked in a deep breath, allowed her shoulders to slump slowly, and relaxed her tensed muscles. Her eyes closed, she counted to ten slowly in her head, and drew herself up to her full height. When she thought that she'd recovered herself well enough to face the world, she brushed off the jacket of her uniform; it was in the boy's fashion, complete with blazer, slacks, and tie, and at first, she hadn't wanted to wear the thing at all. She much preferred her feminine garments, but her grandfather had reminded her that the school would expect her to arrive in a sort of disguise, as a test of her make-up and make-over skills, and she had complied.
Yuuna stepped forward, a little confused by the silence of the foyer and the general air of emptiness. Clearing her throat, she attempted in her best male voice, "H-... Hello?"
