Dreams.
I've never thought much of them.
Mostly for the point that I never really remembered any of mine or simply didn't dream at all.
Sometimes I've remembered bits and pieces but couldn't make sense of them.
In the end, I simply accepted that this is the nature of my dreams.
Just a way of fantasizing which benefits the mental recovery of one's mind.

But because I always felt strangely disconnected from my own dreams I since forever had troubles recovering during my sleep.
No matter how long I slept, in the morning I wouldn't remember anything concrete and be totally tired.
So dreams never meant anything good for me.
It's true.

Dreams can be quite bothersome!

"Iori! Wake up!"

God mum!
I haven't got any real sleep!
And even if, 6 am is far too early!
Just because you have to insist that we eat together every day of the week, even on a school day.
That's what I would like to say, yet my real reply is more along the lines of:

"Urrrgh!" (I)

By the way, my mother's name is Satomi.

"Yes, you guttural beast, get ready and come eat!" (S)

So I prepare myself.
Just the bare minimum.
Washing my face, combing the neck-length hair, getting dressed.

It's not like there is much to take care of.
My looks are those of an utterly average fourteen-years old girl.
Well, apart from the fact that I'm half-Japanese/American.
Yet, this doesn't change much.
I still have black hair, even though it might be brunette to a neglectable degree.
Also, my features are a little western.
In the end, nothing that would set me that much apart.
Yet I like these ocean blue eyes of mine.

Like one might have guessed by the name, my mother is responsible for the Japanese half, while my dad is American.
His name is Christian, but it doesn't matter that much since due to his job in international trade he's almost never at home.
Maybe it's because of this why mother thinks it's so extremely important that we eat together.

Mum is a full-Japanese woman if it’s allowed to say so.
Not only because of her silky black hair, the black eyes, and that perfectly smooth skin of hers.
She also has that natural elegance one develops while being forced by one's overly traditional family to conduct tea ceremonies, calligraphy, and ikebana.
Something I'm really thankful towards her that I never had to do this myself.

It was one of these eloping stories, where the young pair against all odds runs away together, only carried by love and idealized plans for their future.
Maybe to appease them we still have the last name Nomia, and because it makes things easier in daily life.
Thinking about this, it's kinda sad that dad is barely ever with us only to do a job that doesn't even pay that well.
Mum even has a part-time job.

Nonetheless, she manages all the household chores and always has a serene expression.
She is a great mother and family is the most important to her.
I know this and so I hurry to join her at the table.

"Hey mum." (I)

"You look terrible." (S)

"Thank you mum. Charming." (I)

"You know what I meant. You have literal sacs under your eyes. Is something troubling you?" (S)

"Not really, mum. Apart from the point that I don't sleep well there was nothing." (I)

"Maybe you should start taking something. Nothing heavy. But you need sleep." (S)

"Uh, I'd rather not. I always had these problems and can endure it. Meds are nothing I would like to rely on. Apart from that, I do sleep. Just not well." (I)

"Fine, but if it doesn't get better we need to think of a solution." (S)

"Ehm, don't know about that. But I should hurry. The bus is going to leave soon." (I)

"Have a nice day, sweetie!" (S)

"You too. Bye mum!" (I)

Time to go to school.