The girl didn’t look before she crossed….” said the newsreader.

Isabelle barely listened. She had an assignment due in the morning and her teacher wasn’t one to be trifled with, Mrs Irving was impossible to reason with, she sat up from her laptop and went to stretch her legs, catching her reflection. She looked like she always did, her honey-blonde hair tied in a pony tail, her Jade green eyes glittering and her face part Japanese-part Irish looked like a porcelain doll’s, she wore a T-shirt from her visit to Disney Land earlier this year and white board shorts, her feet were bare, as was Japanese tradition and she cradled a ruby bracelet in her hand, she slipped it on and stepped outside. Music from the band ‘Kiss’ buffeted the walls and her parents stood playing air guitars with their tongues out, dressed as the band, a black stain was on the ceiling and the couch was charred, her father’s experiment with pyrotechnics had seen to that.

“Number Seven, Meow, Number Seven, Meow” was the sound that came continually from her brother Joshua’s room, he wore white face paint and dressed in black, his hair blending, but his Jade green eyes sticking out.

Her brother Ren sat on the floor of his room playing with his toys cars and making ‘bbrrrrrruuuuummm’ noises as he did. She opened the fridge, Tofu, Tofu and Sushi. She picked up a Tuna Roll and some soy sauce and began to nibble as she walked back to her room.
“Isabelle-Chan, no sushi in your room.”
“Yes, Dad” she said with a wave of her hand.
“Izzy” her mother called. “Almost time for kendō practice.”
“Yeah Mum I’ll be ready soon” said Isabelle heading for her room, she began to put her bogu on, first her men the facemask and shoulder protectors, then her dō or torso protector, then her kote or hand and forearm protectors, her tare leg protectors and her sune-ate or shin protectors. Clicked a few more words into her laptop then saved and logged off.
“Izzaball, can you pway with me” asked Ren.
“Not now Ren, I’m busy, I’ve got to go to kendō remember, go play with Shorty”, the Chihuahua-Miniature Fox Terrier cross, looked up at the sound of his name his tan face, Chihuahua ears and white body leaping down. Then the door flew open and Isabelle’s best friend Aiden sprang in, a gash along his leg and a bruising lump above his eye as Isabelle came from her room, his golden curls bloodied and his blue eyes open in surprise, his usually vibrant skin with a light tan, stark white and his grey hooded jacket and jeans blood soaked, his Nike trainers loose on his feet and his knees close to giving way as he stumbled through. Quick as lightning Isabelle was down the stairs and across the room to him taking two stairs at a time. It was clear there was going to be no kendō practice tonight.