Nine years of education had slipped from our lives, but it only hit us when teens our age had started middle school. Talking with them was the only way for Sanae and me to get close to it.

Our biological parents had abandoned us. In the only letter they left, they asked whoever found us to never get our DNA checked. That meant we could never be registered as citizens, which made it impossible for us to do a lot of things, which included being able to go to school.

Butcher, the man that found us, did everything in his reach to give us a normal life. He struggled with money, so he had to make many sacrifices. Although we were too young to understand at the time, we did as we grew up. He abandoned his dreams for us and his life changed completely; it was only fair for us to return the favor.

Thanks to him, we enjoyed our childhood. However, bigger problems surfaced as we reached puberty. I was already shy but, at some point, I couldn't even look people in the eye. Meanwhile, Sanae wanted to make as many friends as she could.

She was my only friend. I always looked up to her because she was far more mature than I was. She was brave and confident and did many things teens our age wouldn't dare do, like repairing electronics and speaking her mind without caring what people would think of her.

I always walked behind her when we headed to the nearby park. It was very small with only a couple of benches, a court with basketball hoops, and tiny soccer goals on each side. Regardless, many kids in the neighborhood gathered here after school, especially the cool kids.

Sanae approached them to ask them about middle school, while I hid behind her. Everyone knew each other and we had already lied to them by saying we were taking private lessons instead of going to the public school, so they were unphased by the obvious questions.

However, something changed. Their answers were dry and filled with sarcasm, making fun of us by insinuating that we didn't go to school because we were poor. I was scared, but Sanae kept talking normally.

It became obvious they wanted to get rid of us, but I wasn't sure if Sanae had gotten the message. I wanted to leave as soon as possible, yet Sanae insisted that we stay.

Finally, they gave us an ultimatum. They were leaving for a karaoke restaurant, but not before they invited us to come along. It was far above what we could afford, so there was no way for us to accept.

To everyone's surprise, Sanae didn't back down. Instead, she challenged them to sing on the spot. They all laughed, but Sanae kept calling them cowards.

Eventually, they broke down and accepted the challenge under one condition: I had to sing too. My heart beat like never before, but I hoped Sanae would think about me and refuse; she accepted.

While I tried not to faint, the first girl started to sing. Her voice was alright, so everyone clapped slightly once she finished.

Then it was Sanae's turn. What no one knew is that we had been dancing and singing since we were little. We loved idols and dancing and singing didn't require special equipment in order for us to practice, so we spent half of our childhood watching videos that were a thousand years old.

As expected, Sanae was great, and the smug expression on her face only boosted her confidence. Nonetheless, everyone else's smirks didn't go away. On the contrary, they curved up more.

It was the next guy's turn. He only needed a couple of seconds to show that he was incredibly good. Sanae and I stared at him in shock, while everyone else seemed like they were used to it.

A crowd quickly gathered around us and cheered once the guy finished singing. They continued cheering for him to sing another song, but Sanae interrupted them by saying it was my turn.

My stomach dropped to the ground as everyone stared at me. I glanced at them once and that was enough for me to not look up again.

The world became silent as Sanae shook my shoulder. The pressure in my chest wouldn't stop rising and the meal we had for dinner was coming up my throat. For some reason, my brain decided that words should come out instead of food.

I saw nothing more than darkness. Barely any sound came out of my mouth, but I was singing. I didn't even know what I was singing, but my chest rumbled more and more. I kept running out of breath because of my awful technique, but I couldn't think.

Before I realized it, I finished singing. The park fell silent, but I was too scared to open my eyes and see those who would be making fun of me.

People slowly began to clap before the claps suddenly turned into cheers. I opened my eyes to see everyone staring at me with huge smiles. I looked down again.

Sanae wouldn't stop bragging about me, making the crowd ask for me to sing more. For the first time that evening, I opened my mouth again to say I had to go.

Of course, Sanae followed me while praising me but also complaining about why I didn't sing more. She gave me space once I found a bush for me to puke behind.

People kept asking me to sing over the next several weeks. Most days I refused, but on some others I accepted. Although I didn't believe it was possible, I stopped feeling nauseous after singing in public a few months later.

Something similar happened with dancing. There were people that were very good at it, including Sanae, but I was praised as the best in the neighborhood.

I slowly built my confidence and was even able to look at people in the eye, but I didn't realize I was losing something I would never give away for anything: Sanae.