Dear Diary,

It isn’t easy having all this pressure on me, yaknow? Mom-sei and Dad-sei are both pushing me to get with my turn-to-smoke training but I really wanted to watch that Pimp My Ride marathon. Why don’t parents understand?

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Dear Diary,

Kokunha-san turned me on to this new band last night, Hari Kari Fisher, and they fucking rock. They have that nice soft sound and their lyrics, they really know where I am in my life. Man we stood and swayed to their groove for half the night. The only problem came when we got pushed into this almost mosh pit thing.

You know how it goes, right, Diary? Kokunha-san broke this one guy’s arm in three places and I cut this other dude in half. You can’t just push a ninja. But after… I don’t know, this life may not be for me. I was ritually cleaning my blade off on my enemies shirt but I felt empty inside and wanted to just listen to the music a while and relax.

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Dear Diary,

Man! Shuriken class was a drag. It’s bad enough that we have to learn how to throw these things with our toes, fine I can accept it’s tradition and all that noise, but why do they have to give us all of their political bullshit with it?

We’re masterless, huh? Then why are we stuck in your stupid school? We’re like the darkness, we obey no code of man only our own… it’s all pointless bullshit. Kokunha-san and Mizzi-chan agree.

Mizzi-chan got a new Vespa though! That thing is rad, even if her parents painted it matte black and insisted it have smoke dispensers in the wheel wells. Why can’t they let us have our own style? Black gets boring after a while.

I think I like orange.

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Dear Diary,

Took Mizzi-chan to the dance. She wore her black shinobi shokuzu and so did I. Corsage were banned. I couldn’t even see her face, just her eyes. When I went to slow dance with her I got poked by some shuriken. I really hate this school.

Dances are stupid anyway. They try to teach us to be lone wolves of the night and then make us socialize. Why can’t we just hang out with our friends? I missed a Shuriken But I Won’t concert for this bull.

At least Mizzi-chan smelled really nice. She tried to kiss me too, but, you know, face wrap.

After the dance though we went out and sat together under a tree by the lake. We just held hands and talked about the bands we liked and stuff. That was really cool. I wonder what color her hair is.

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Dear Diary,

Mizzi-chan came over last night, after my stupid parents went to bed. she snuck in, but she used the wrong smoke bomb outside to cover her tracks. It was kinda wispy and lame. We just hung out, we didn’t do anything or anything, all right? She’s really nice. I can’t wait till I get to see her face someday… I mean, like, if we ever go that far.

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Dear Diary,

Oh my god it’s horrible! Today was the worst day of my life!

First, in gym, I couldn’t get my grapple line to stay on the climbing wall at all! Everyone laughed. To hell with them! Then, later, Mizzi-chan’s Vespa broke down and she asked for my help but I just made it worse. I’m not a mechanic. I didn’t know! But now it doesn’t even sputter it just fizzles strangely and she has to pay for repairs.

So then I went home and climbed along the outer wall to sneak into my room but my father was there. He was mad and stuff. He found the remains of the smoke bomb Mizzi-chan had used the other night and recognized that it was made by her father and put two and two together and I’m not allowed to see her again!

I mean, at school sure, but outside of that.

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Dear Diary,

Contemplating running away. Can’t take it here. The world is nothing but black.

Besides the clothing, I mean.

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Dear Diary,

Ran away from home last night, under cloud covered night. I am free at long last. Entries will be sparser while on the open road, of course.

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Dear Diary,

Bears suck and I hate them. Going home.