During WWII in Japan, a rich girl who has lived in a mansion all her life, and a poor boy with no house or possessions get befriended and help each other through the war.
I wake up and sleepily open my eyes. The sight is the same as usual - the muddy green plastic of the crate, and the bright city of Tokyo beyond. Straight ahead of me, though, was the dirty street that I lived on. Yes, I live on a street.
I sit up and stretch, as stiff as a board, then look down at myself. Straight raven black hair, messy as usual; ripped scrap-of-a-shirt top, a little dirtier; and my blue trousers ripped to shorts, perhaps with a few more rips in them. I jump down and slip into my broken sandals.
I sigh. This was my life and, unless there's a miricle, it wasn't going to change. Looking back to my crate with only my blanket to sleep on, I wondered what mildly interesting what-not was going to happen today. All I could do was wait and see.