the sixth note

There once lived a girl in a house on a hill on the edge of a cliff. Her name was Ikki and there were three things that she absolutely loathed.

The first was that she had to share her house with way too many people. You know you live with too many people if it takes your caregiver half a dozen names before they can even get yours right. Living with thirteen other girls meant Ikki always had to fight for the bathroom, or fight for the rice noodles, or (worst of all) fight just to be heard.

Second of all, she hated being in the middle. She didn't get to boss around the other girls like Milly (bleh!) and she was never praised for doing basic, mundane things like the little kids (oh sure, tell Lissy she did a good job putting on shoes today). Being in the middle simultaneously meant that no one thought she was responsible and that no one thought she deserved attention. It meant the only way she could be seen was to become trouble, and even that was getting boring.

Third! She HATED all the questions that came with being a foster kid. No, she didn't spend every day crying. And no, she certainly wasn't yearning for some weirdo adult to snatch her up. Strangers always had the most outrageous assumptions about her and her sisters. About their home lives and wants and dreams, like she'd be willing to just abandon Nishi or Marikit at the teeniest chance at being adopted.

Well, those people could eat a sock. Ikki was perfectly content with where she was, even if it felt a little cramped at times. She just wished her sisters would listen to her. She wished the adults would see her for more than her trouble. More than anything, she wished she could be known.

And getting her own room might be nice too.