Heehee. And in reply, though not of drabble lenght, I suspect.
It really wasn't fair, Hakuba thought. Just because he was eleven years old (almost twelve!) and a gaijin (which he really couldn't help, or anything), he was always getting picked on.
So during breaks he hid away in the overgrown corner of the playground, reading his books. He usually left his books in the little shrine, and if one of them sometimes went missing, it was always back in a few days. He liked to think it was the shrine's kami, but was getting too old to really believe that anymore.
Settling back against the stone walls, Hakuba lost himself in Hound of the Baskervilles, not noticing the transparent white shape perched lightly on the roof of the shrine, Hakuba's temporarily missing copy of Robin Hood floating serenely open in front of it.
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It really wasn't fair, Hakuba thought. Just because he was eleven years old (almost twelve!) and a gaijin (which he really couldn't help, or anything), he was always getting picked on.
So during breaks he hid away in the overgrown corner of the playground, reading his books. He usually left his books in the little shrine, and if one of them sometimes went missing, it was always back in a few days. He liked to think it was the shrine's kami, but was getting too old to really believe that anymore.
Settling back against the stone walls, Hakuba lost himself in Hound of the Baskervilles, not noticing the transparent white shape perched lightly on the roof of the shrine, Hakuba's temporarily missing copy of Robin Hood floating serenely open in front of it.