Yay, I'm so happy today! I woke up to find three really awesome reviews. Who knew all I had to do was hold the Host Club hostage? Wait... that sounded wrong... Well, anyway, my first reviewer was a guest, so the prize is my last pre-written chapter for this story. I'll start working on Chapter 5 soon, and again, let me know what you guys want to see. (Hopefully less Yoshiko, but that probably isn't going to happen. My feet still hurt.) So, I guess that's about it for now. I hope you guys like this chapter! Please read, review, and enjoy!

(Edit : Grammar! Fixing! You get the drift. Hopefully my future chapters won't be as bad as this.)

I wake up slowly. It doesn't matter how late or how early I go to bed, getting up always takes a herculean effort to do in under three hours. I look at the clock on my nightstand, slightly askew. (Probably from my restless sleeping.)

7:00 AM

Yes, I'm up early!

Now just to get out of bed before the clock says nine...

Still groggy, I get out of bed and throw my covers back on my mattress before walking to the bathroom that opens directly into my bedroom. I open the door, and take a step inside before swearing.

"God damn it, Yoshiko!"

I look down at the ground. One of her seemingly infinite hair baubles was, once again, on the floor. Once again, the said bauble had broken under my foot. I was getting really tired of this.

I turn the light on, and let out another swear.

The bathroom was completely destroyed! The sink was covered in some pink goo, Yoshiko's dirty clothes were strewn about and about a million of her hair accessories were littering the floor more thoroughly and randomly than a freaking military mine-field.

Jesus Christ.

How she managed to get the bathroom like this in less than one day both shocked and horrified me.

And, of course, meant that I had to clean it up before I could hope to use the bathroom for its intended purpose.

I shoved all of Yoshiko's clothes into a corner - I'd throw them at her later - and picked up all the visible hair pins, clips, and I don't even know what some of those things were. The sink….. oh, god. I don't even know what that was!

I looked to a bunch of empty bottles in the bathtub.

Now I do.

After retaining another dose of aggravation, I started pulling the bottles out of the bathtub, hoping to salvage some of the things inside.

My tub was full of everything that should have been in my now-broken cabinet, which was sometimes too high for me to reach, so I had no idea how she got to them.

Hairsprays, detanglers, straightening gels, shampoos, conditioners, soaps, body washes, perfumes; you name it, they were all mixed together going down the drain.

Sometimes I really hated that girl.

A good twenty minutes later - Great, looks like woke up early for nothing! - I managed to take a quick ten-minute shower using some of the soap and shampoo that had miraculously not been touched, and got out to find the towels missing.

All the towels.

God damn it, Yoshiko!

So I quickly went into my room and grabbed a spare that I always kept in case this happened. (Which it did, frequently.)

I got dressed in my new uniform - ignoring the itchiness - and shoved on my shoes while I grabbed my backpack. Running a brush through my hair, I walked down the stairs towards the kitchen.

Just in time to hear Yoshiko's voice say "Mommy, Annabelle made a mess of our bathroom, can I use yours today?"

The little minx.

"Sure, sweetie, go ahead." my mom replies, and I hear Yoshiko get up and leave the kitchen on the opposite side.

I walk inside the kitchen, putting my bag down in a chair.

"Hi, Mom." She turns around, giving me a displeased look.

"Anna, I thought we talked about this. The bathroom isn't just yours, it's your sister's too. You both share it. You can't take up all the space with your things."

When we moved here, my mom thought it would be an amazing idea to give Yoshiko and I adjoining rooms that share a bathroom in the middle. To make us bond and stop fighting, apparently. I don't see how that was supposed to happen seeing as now I'm subject to hours of Yoshiko locking herself in the bathroom and trying to sing at the top of her lungs.

Key word try. She had an awful voice. And she knew I hated hearing it, so whenever I tell her to be quiet or that I'm trying to do my homework, she gets louder.

Little minx.

I take a deep breath. "Alright, Mom." I say, having learned a long time ago that I would never win this battle.

There was a reason Yoshiko had that particular name, and it sure wasn't because she was a
"good child".

Her name could also be translated into favorite.

As in, she got away with everything.

You get used to it eventually.

I go to the pantry to grab my favorite cereal, what I usually ate for breakfast when I wasn't running late.

I.E., almost never.

I grabbed the box and a bowl, returning to the counter. I open the box to find it…. empty. Not really in the mood to deal with it this morning, I simply throw the box away, not saying a word.

"I swear," my mom says, "Who keeps doing that? How many times do I have to keep telling you kids to throw empty boxes away, and not put them back in the cupboards?"

I look at the half-eaten bowl of cereal on the counter, the cereal gone soggy and all the milk still present in the bowl. Yoshiko's signature.

I think I know who.

I look at the clock, realizing I am no longer ahead of schedule.

"Bye, Mom. I've got to go. Love you!" I say, grabbing my lunchbox out of the refrigerator on my way to the door, also palming Yoshiko's apple juice from hers. That would be my breakfast.

I grab my backpack and head to the front door, to the car waiting for me. The driver is surprised that I showed up before he had to honk for me, but he says nothing as I open the back door and get inside.

I drink the juice box on the way to school.