Rurouni Kenshin Fan Fiction ❯ Built on a Dream ❯ Chapter 1 - Enter Kara ( Chapter 1 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]
By: RaysALight
Follow Kara Camiya, a normal high school student, as she embarks on a heroic journey that transcends space and time. Watch her find power, hope and love while she learns about herself and the forgotten, Kenshin-gumi, and goes on a quest of her own. (If you thought all AU stories were the same, then you have no idea what’s going on in my head!)

Anime/Manga: Rurouni Kenshin Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Romance / Fantasy / Adventure | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 04.06.2005 | Pages: 1 | Words: 1.5K | Visits: 176 | Status: Completed

She wasn't crazy. She knew she wasn't crazy. Everything had a reason, and she would find out why there was this rhythm in her head. She tapped her pencil to it, trying to figure out the reason.
It hadn't always been there, she knew that for sure, but every day it got louder, and then the headaches would come. Why couldn't her life just be normal? Why couldn't-
"Kara Camiya," the teacher roared. She looked up. "If you don't stop tapping that pencil so loud, you will be spending the rest of the afternoon in detention." Kara nodded, a brief shake of her head, falling into the rhythm also. Setting the pencil down, her foot began to unconsciously tap as well. Her mind was cluttered with thoughts.
She would most likely come home to an empty house. Her stepmother, Tish, was usually out drinking, or spending the day with a stranger she just met, trying to fill the ache in her heart. Kara's heart ached as well, but in a different way, much like her head.
It had been three months since her father had passed, and nearly ten years since her mother had died. She and Tish were alone, but together, trying to grieve, separately, but always connected by the new void in their lives.
Her father had not been a gentle man, but underneath his firm set face there had lived a kind father, and a respectful husband. It had been hard for him after his first wife had died; he could barely look at his daughter, and was always reminded of what he had lost.
Kara couldn't remember much of her mother. Beautiful. A goddess. That was all she remembered. Her mother, she was told, had never really grown up, and the few short years that they spent together were full of fun and silliness. Her father had been completely head over heels in love, and was devastated to find out that she had a rare blood disorder. Life had drained from her slowly, and Kara, being only six, had been to young to understand what was making her mommy so sick.
The beat, ever present in her, pounded against the sides of her head. Her foot began to tap louder, and she looked toward the window, wishing she could get a chance to stretch her legs.
Her father had died from a heart attack. It was sudden, quite unlike his new marriage to Tish, whom he had dated and then lived with for years. Tish was pretty, but even she knew she could never be like the goddess before her, and she didn't even try. Her temper and flaring personality did what her looks could not, and she fell deeply in love for the first time in her life.
Rumors flew. Tish was eight years younger than Kara's father, who was pretty well off. Kara didn't mind though, and without a second thought, began calling her father's young love 'mommy.' Tish didn't mind, and welcomed the frightened little girl with open arms. It had been bliss then. For six months, Kara finally thought her life would return to normal.
And then her father died. Kara remembered the day very well. She had been sitting in this exact class, tapping her foot, when the loudspeaker called her name. The students snickered, and she offered them a rueful smile. She had thought she was in trouble, but never knew the kind of trouble her heart would be in. She frowned, remembering the forced pitying smiles of the office staff as she walked by, and the principal's office, which smelled of his morning cup of coffee.
Tish had waited for her there, her face in her hands, her heart broken. Kara turned away from the window, and looked at the clock. It had been 11:31 a.m. then, when her world fell apart. It seemed like a habit, her way of honoring her father, to watch the clock as that slow minute passed each day. 11:32. Kara took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She felt so terribly alone.
The days after her father died passed like a blur. The funeral seemed to go on forever, and many tears were shed. The old ladies passed pitying looks at her, speaking in hushed tones about that poor poor child; first her mother, and then her father.
Kara ran her fingers through her midnight black hair. Her father had said that she looked like an exact duplicate of her mother, though Kara could hardly believe that. Her mother had been graceful and elegant in a child-like way, where as Kara was just beginning to fill out her pencil-thin body, and her clumsy arms and legs stuck out longer than they should.
She remembered her father laughing at her physical complaints. He had said that her mother was the same way at her age, and that time was on her side. Kara kept her gaze on the clock, picturing her father's face, and his rare but warm laugh. If only he hadn't died, if only-
"Are you late for a date, Camiya?" Kara's head snapped in the direction of the teacher, a frown still evident on her face.
"Well, are you?" The teacher smiled, but not pleasantly.
"No, sir," Kara stretched her legs out under her desk, and picked up her pencil. The beat continued in her head, pounding as loud as her heart.
"Would you like to give us the answer to number seventeen, if it's not too much trouble?" Kara's frown grew deeper. What kind of games was this man playing? He knew she hadn't done her homework. Tish hadn't come home last night, and Kara was left with the laundry and dishes.
"No, sir," Kara echoed, her pencil tapping to the thundering rhythm in her head. The teacher fumed.
"I told you about that pencil, Camiya. Get your things, and report to detention. I will be calling your parent," he paused, emphasizing the fact that she had only one. "I do not want you returning to this class until you can pay attention."
"Fine," Kara muttered, and scooped up her books and headed to the door. She glanced at the clock one last time, before heading down the hallway. 11:54.