'Saturday's girl is...' Tamao paused, looking up from the crisp white page of her personal diary, losing herself in the intricate grains of the hardwood desk panel above as she searched for the correct wording. '...is disappointed and frustrated,' she continued, dark hair brushing the table top as she bowed back again, concentrating on verbalising the emotional cauldron inside her. 'After days of putting off, my beautiful Nagisa-chan is out shopping for a new Etoile Ball gown with Hanazono-san, having completely failed to mention that she was going separately to me until this morning.' She sighed in frustration, pressing harder to emphasize her annoyance at the next point, 'it's the final shopping day before the Ball!' Then, with a much lighter stroke, fearing she'd tear the paper or worse, bend her pen nib, she wrote, 'Which means I had to choose something without first seeing her outfit: I wonder if making sure our dresses mismatch at the Ball is another way for her to stress to everyone that there's distance between us now? As if that wasn't obvious enough already...' With a sad look on her face the raven haired Etoile finished the paragraph, 'I fear I've ruined something truly special.' Tamao sat back in her chair, looking at the words on the page. With a downbeat face she held the smooth resin pen lid against parsed lips, tapping them gently in thought as the agitated fourth year looked around the lonely dormitory. The delicate linen on Nagisa's bed hadn't been disturbed in over a week. Her shelves and wardrobe stood almost empty, and apart from Tamao's collection of books, the room might as well be bare compared to the beginning of term when the lively transfer student had moved in. Living by herself had become depressingly familiar to Tamao all too quickly, and the memories of happier days sharing with the pretty red-head were too fleeting in her long time at Miator without a room mate to compensate. "Am I destined to remain alone?" she asked herself out loud, letting her arms fall to her side in defeat. Inwardly she sighed, adding; no, she didn't have to remain alone. But to avoid doing so required her to ignore her own feelings and be the happy friend to everyone but herself, as though it were a crime to stay true to oneself. Closing her eyes to let her swimming head settle, she enjoyed the still silence for a moment, feeling her tense neck and shoulders relax, her heavy heart lighten. Miyuki had been so sure in the council chambers, so certain things weren't going to remain this way. What was it the school council President knew that Tamao didn't? - - - - - "What about this my love?" Shizuma called over the thumping shop floor music, tipping the plastic hanger in Nagisa's direction so she could make out the attached garment. Leaning closer so she could be heard more clearly, she added, "Satin's always nice and it'll really show off your shoulders and back." The couple had gone to town for the morning, Nagisa reluctantly conceding that she needed to find a replacement dress for the Christmas Ball now that she'd been crowned Etoile. Wrapped up warm in jumpers and jeans, the pair had dressed for functionality rather than style, Nagisa having learned her lesson from the trip to the Hanazono bungalow a fortnight beforehand when she'd nearly frozen. Shizuma was her usual black-clad self, Nagisa a mixture of grey wool and stoned blue denim. Stood between the long rails of a clothing store, the girls did their best to browse amongst the Christmas rush, everyone around them seemingly caught up in a whirlwind frenzy of hurried purchases in the final shopping days before the holiday. Given Emmie's insistence that the Japanese take on the festival was greatly toned down compared to Europe, Shizuma was glad her trips to Paris had always been out of season. She couldn't picture the mall being any more crowded. Nagisa's dull amber eyes considered the dress, passing over the neck line that her girlfriend had mentioned as she felt the smooth fabric between finger and thumb. It was certainly pretty the quiet fourth year thought, but her face was hardly a picture of enthusiasm. Shizuma had been trying to provoke some semblance of life from the red head all morning, but the new Etoile seemed unusually subdued today. Worried but understanding, the sixth-year put it down to a long week of stress and hassle ahead of saturday's Christmas Ball and end of term on friday. Nagisa had yet to voice her concern regarding the older girl's apparently cosy conversation with Miyuki in the Green House the previous evening, although her nagging self-doubt reassured her that she was bound to have read the situation wrong anyway. The fourth year would be glad to see term end this coming weekend so the couple could retire to the summer house for the break, away from the other girls and their constant interference. She smiled weakly, uncommitted, "It is nice isn't it..." As Nagisa turned back to browsing, Shizuma stood for a moment, wanting to roll her eyes and sigh in frustration, but the underlying concern and worry stopped her. They'd been in a half dozen shops already and Nagisa had hardly batted an eyelid at the majority of the suggestions so far, despite knowing she had to pick something today or risk not being able to get off premises again before the Ball. Time was very definitely ticking and Nagisa was somewhere else entirely. Returning the hanger to its rail, Shizuma decided to change tact. Stepping behind the fourth year, she slid her arms around Nagisa's slim waist, squeezing tightly and whispering in her ear, "Tell you what, let's take a break eh? We've been on our feet all morning, and I could really do with a coffee. Perhaps we can come back to it in a bit?" She stood back, allowing Nagisa to turn. Smiling, emerald eyes swimming deep with love for the sullen red head, Shizuma reached out a hand for Nagisa to take. After a moment's pause the fourth year nodded in response, taking the slender fingers in her own, squeezing the taller girl's arm as she drew close and wrapped her other arm around it, pulling the girls into a cosy huddle. "I'm sorry," Nagisa explained, "I'm just so tired today and this whole Ball thing is making me ratty." Inwardly she kicked herself for being so over emotional, wishing for a return to the strength and glowing confidence she'd felt the morning after the couple's last trip off premises, fondly remembering the unfamiliar sensation of the platinum band on her engagement finger as she'd returned to the school, her now fiancée beside her. But that confidence was gone, sapped away by the constant soul-stripping criticism that Miyuki levelled at her on a daily basis. She sighed, her mind once again returning to the view from the pathway beside the Green House, the fourth year remembering Shizuma and Miyuki sat within. What had they been talking about? Where was the previous week's hostility? And why hadn't Shizuma mentioned it to the red headed Etoile since? Scared of getting an answer that her shattered spirit would be unable to cope with, the fourth year continued to opt for quiet reservation, wondering how the dynamics of their relationship had shifted so suddenly and hoping desperately that everything would right itself come the end of term and the privacy of the Summer House. Unable to verbalise her insecurities, Nagisa instead fell back on the only thing she could, squeezing her girlfriend's arm tighter to plead silently for physical reassurance, prompting an oblivious Shizuma to smile down at her companion, unaware of the cause of the bubbling cauldron consuming the younger girl's heart as she walked beside her. As the girls sauntered slowly out into the bustling mall, Nagisa quietly offered, "I'd rather not be in the stupid position of having to buy another dress anyway; this is all so ridiculous." Nagisa's distain for having been made Etoile was still raw, and Shizuma sighed in agreement, saddened by Miyuki's political positioning. Although in all fairness, she added inwardly, she'd probably have done the same thing were she in the school council President's shoes; by all accounts, Nagisa and Tamao had won the original election by a huge margin, and with Hikari gone, it was appoint the Miatorian couple or hold another time consuming event. The school had suffered enough distractions that term as it was she knew, after all, in her final months as Etoile she'd hardly been an example to follow. Biting her lip in annoyance, Shizuma caught the train of thought before it ran out of control. It seemed some of the alleged sense buried in Miyuki's justifications the previous evening had rubbed off on her, and she grimaced at the idea that her former room-mate had managed to regain some influence. Strolling back across the street as the world rushed around them, the two girls savoured each other's company, largely ignoring the crammed shop windows and signage as they sauntered towards the coffee shops in the pedestrianised area. Nagisa slid her fingers into the sleeve of Shizuma's black jumper, cherishing the warmth of the soft skin beneath, tipping her head to rest on the older girl's shoulder. Feeling cool fingers against her arm, the sixth year looked down at the pretty figure next to her fondly. She'd missed this so much; the time together, the intimacy. As they approached the bright cream parasols and dark ornate tables skirting one of the more popular cafes, something in a corner window across the way caught Shizuma's eye, and snapping out of their cosy moment, she pointed excitedly, "Look Nagisa, isn't it gorgeous!" Dragging her girlfriend by the hand, Shizuma hurried over to the curved glass window of one of the department stores where a slinky burgundy dress was being showcased among a selection of New Year's Eve outfits. Featuring a low cut neck, bare shoulders and long sleeves gathered with fine stitching to give it a fitted Spanish look, the dress was exquisite, and the silver haired Miatorian grinned like a kinder garden girl as she stared up at it, her warm breath trailing in the cold air. "Oh Nagisa, you'd look amazing in that..." she whispered to one side, adding, "It's so... Carmen!" she grinned. Squeezing Nagisa's hand excitedly, she asked, "Pop in after lunch and ask to try it on?" But none of her enthusiasm had caught on, Nagisa looking reluctantly at the window, her expression almost pensive. She struggled with her heavy heart, searching within for the excitable transfer student that the sultry senior next to her had fallen for. But no matter how deep she reached however, the red headed Etoile came back empty handed. Insecurity and avoidance won out. "I haven't got the figure for that Shizuma," she said flatly, "don't be silly." The warmth and affection had drained from her voice, replaced by monotone defeat and she turned back towards the café, an empty void in her chest where her weary heart dragged along on heavy chains behind her. When Shizuma's grip stopped her from walking any further, she let the upperclassman's hand slip away, continuing on regardless, her pretty head bowed. Watching the younger girl disappear into the crowd, Shizuma's delicate features twisted in dismay, unsure of how to reach her uncharacteristically sullen lover. - - - - - Yaya had awoken with a splitting head ache well past midday, caused by a combination of disturbed sleep and dehydration, the young woman having cried herself to sleep. Yet despite obviously having stirred to turn the music down at some point, the pretty third year seemingly hadn't been sensible enough to get a glass of water while she was at it. Sat at her desk, still in her soft cotton nightdress and briefs, the Spican was thumbing through her diary and class work, trying to get a grip on what she needed to do before the end of term on Friday whilst doing her best to ignore her thumping temples at the same time. She'd also decided with grim determination that it was time to sort her things out so she could start packing for the return home, despite still trying to block the inevitable confrontation with her parents that would accompany it. Pausing amidst the churning chaos of papers, post-it notes and assignments, she looked across at the pictures pinned to her cork-brown notice board, spying the blonde curls of her room mate amongst the collage of happy faces, her lips twisting in a wry smile as she recalled Kaname's telling words at breakfast the day before. The tiny third year would certainly be remembered this Christmas that was sure. God knows Yaya's parents weren't going to let her forget the trouble she was in as a result of events triggered by Hikari's departure. Sighing as her gaze lost focus she propped her chin up with her elbow and thumbed idly through the textured pages of her personal diary. Several of the sheets were crumpled and stained from where she'd fallen asleep on them the night before, her mascara having left sweeping rings as it had dried. Looking back across the black scrawl she recounted the months of anguish and confusion she'd felt as Hikari had slid from her grip, the dark haired third year desperate but simply incapable of voicing her true feelings to her room mate properly. All she'd managed to do was push her away further and faster. Dark lashes meshed into two solid arcs as the memories overwhelmed her, and for a moment she let herself swim in the darkness. "I miss you so much Hikari..." she whispered, brow bowed with the emotional weight of her loss. She turned to look back at the smiling face in the photographs beside her, chin heavy in the palm it rested on. So pretty, the sullen Spican thought to herself. Memory animated the celluloid image for her, Hikari's smiling face beaming as she giggled and shied away from the camera. It was then that a twang of guilt caught Yaya and she found herself wondering why she hadn't heard from the pink-haired Tsubomi all morning. - - - - - "Wednesday's girl," Tamao began, "is concerned and worried. My Nagisa-chan is definitely not herself, and every time I see her at the moment, she appears worse and worse." Tamao paused to shift position in her seat, better angling the soft covered diary in her lap. Sat in the Dormitory lounge whilst waiting for her fellow Etoile to arrive before the girls left for breakfast duties, the pretty fourth year relished the warm winter sun as she penned the previous day's thoughts, curled up on a couch beside the broad glass windows. "It's as though something really serious has happened; she seems so tense and distracted, just like summer after her first trip away with Shizuma-san." Playing with her blue Etoile stone for subconscious comfort, the Miatorian continued, "Each time I try to help she snaps at me, and each time she snaps it's worse than the last time." Pondering, habit driving her to tap the cool black pen to her lips, she added, "Even Shizuma seems to be getting the same response; every time I've seen them in the corridor since the weekend they may as well have been complete strangers. They've not been walking arm in arm or even talking. It's as if something has happened between them. Perhaps I should ask Mizuho-san or Hitomi-senpai?" Finishing on the ponderous note, she capped her fountain pen and slid it into place in the leather holder sewed into her diary, sitting back so she could look out across the stark winter grounds and towards the turbulent sea that bordered them. - - - - - Kagome hurried back towards the main flight of stairs in the Dormitory entrance way, taking the creaky wooden steps as fast as she could, the midweek mail clutched in one hand, the other steadying herself with the ornate wooden banister. Little legs pumping, she did her best to get to the top floor without stopping, knowing full well that her school council President would be waiting on at least two or three of the letters she carried, having apparently been unable to come down to collect them herself. Streaking past several alarmed figures on the stairway landing halfway between floors, the tiny first year drew confused looks, the onlookers unused to seeing Kagome as anything other than her usually ponderous self, the young Lulim girl today a blur of checked uniform and white cotton socks instead. But the urgency had a valid source; the Christmas Ball was only four days away now, yet the Miatorian girls still had to prepare a large proportion of the food and entertainments, the supplies for which tied up after some of the founding school's fourth years had mixed up the ordering sheets needed to request them. With Chikaru taking her usual roll as ledger and financial book keeper for the Student Council, the pretty Lulim President had offered to step in to correct matters on Miyuki's behalf, her Miatorian counterpart very much snowed under with getting the event organised before time ran out. Kagome knew that without the documents in her hand, Chikaru would be unable to place the remaining orders before going to class, during which the morning's post would be collected, losing the girls another desperately needed day of preparation. The little first year's brow dipped with determination and her brunette curls bobbed as she hurtled down the fifth year corridor towards the older girl's room. Despite her usually calm and reserved nature, the youngster could truly move when she needed to. "Kagome-chan?" a startled looking Chiyo Tsukidate exclaimed as Kagome whizzed around the corner before her and sprinted past the tiny Miatorian, the Lulim girl's deep green eyes catching the downbeat expression on the first year's face. "Chiyo-chan?" she pondered in low tones, making a mental note to ask what was wrong with the new Etoile's room temp after she'd completed her council duties for the day. As she disappeared through the next set of fire doors the antiquated wood work swung wide on uneven hinges, smacking into each other with a loud crack as they met again in the middle. Finally approaching her intended destination, the youngster slowed her pace, pausing briefly to pull a trailing sock up taut, after which she reached on tip-toes to knock politely on the door before her. She liked to look her best when she addressed Minamoto-sama, the pretty first year still extremely proud of her appointment as the fifth year's assistant. But before her tiny knuckles could make contact with the wooden surface, a shrill scream vibrated through the door, followed by the musical sound of exaggerated giggling and playful laughter. Kagome looked puzzled for a second until she recognized Kizuna's voice as she begged for mercy. They'd been like this ever since the tickets started selling Kagome noted, her two older peers bouncing off the walls with excitement as term drew to a close and the biggest social event of the year's calendar crept towards them. Wondering what the two crazy room mates were up to today, the petite council aide reached back to wrap her curled hand gently across the wooden surface. "Minamoto-senpai?" she called in her sullen tones, unsure if she'd been able to make herself heard over the shrill cries echoing through the corridor. When the door finally opened, the chaos within exploded into the corridor. An oversized green Christmas tree with Remon's seemingly disembodied head poking from the top, complete with tinsel, candy sticks, baubles and all, tumbled into Kagome, almost bowling the little one over. Closely following the escapee Christmas tree as it crawled across the floor, trying to stand and failing miserably came a giant Christmas cake sporting a pair of bright red cherries, fake white icing and the familiar face of Kizuna Hyuga set into the front. Tiny arms, like stick branches from the foliage outside the Dormitory Halls sprung from holes on either side of the spherical cake, and Kizuna waved her arms like tentacles, her fingers threatening more punishment for poor Remon, the extremely ticklish second year unable to escape to somewhere safe. Trying not to get involved, knowing how important her self-allocated errand had been, Kagome stepped over the carnage as fresh tickling commenced, accompanied by an appropriate degree of giggling and the resulting barrage of screams and bribery. The over excited second years were loud enough to rouse several of the other senior students from their rooms, faces full of frowns and disapproval, and it was only then that Chikaru pulled herself from her work to intervene. "Remon, Kizuna, please come back inside and calm down. There's still four days to go until the end of term and there are exams in spring. Please, let the other girls get some peace," the pretty senior requested in a soft but stern voice, the student council President returning to her desk, pen and paper in hand. Shifting thoughtfully through several reports of one form or another, she was busy preparing for the Lulim end of term, the school council partially responsible for the Dormitory student's discharge. With so much to do, she was yet to take breakfast, her schedule so overloaded as it was. Kizuna and Remon picked themselves up and set about doing as asked, Kizuna disappointed at being reigned in from her position of dominance whilst a flustered looking Remon did her best to adjust her glasses back into place, her similarly restrictive outfit compounding the task and robbing her of the characteristic air of seriousness and superiority that she was obviously doing her best to regain. Red faced and frustrated, she resigned to accept her room mate's help, Kizuna levelling the second year's spectacles across her cheek bones before planting a playful kiss on the tip of the other girl's nose. A blur of mousey brown bunches and teasing eyes, she then bolted into the waiting bedroom door as Remon's face fell further towards an agitated scowl. With a distinct hump now in her stride, the remaining second year returned to Chikaru's room, closing the door carefully behind her. As the circus show subsided, Kagome waited politely to be addressed, the youngster stood quietly next to Chikaru's over crowded desk as the two second years climbed clumsily onto the upperclassman's bed, the duo beginning the long and complicated process of releasing themselves from their cumbersome outfits so they could tidy their appearance for class. It wasn't until Remon piped up that Chikaru stirred from her concentration, "Chikaru-sama, I believe Kagome-chan has something for you?" she offered quietly, straining over the delicate frame of her glasses in curiosity. Dark hair shimmering as it moved, Chikaru tipped her head to address the first year, the upperclassman smiling softly as she did, "Good morning Kagome-chan. I'm sorry, that was very rude of me." Frowning in curiosity, she asked in her pleasant voice, "What do you have there?" Her face it's usual mix of big jade pupils and passive expression, the first year held the mail out before her without a word, "Oh!" Chikaru exclaimed, "I'd completely forgotten." Nodding politely as she accepted the bundle, the school senior waded through the assorted envelopes, absorbed for a moment as she prioritized each one in turn, kicking herself for her own forgetfulness. Kagome was becoming more and more of an asset as each day passed, the Lulim idol noted, and a private smile crossed her lips as she glanced quickly across the first year beside her. As she waited, the petite brunette lost herself in the colourful room, Kagome always in awe of the amazing fifth year's talents. Heart warm and fuzzy as she spotted a familiar looking teddy bear half hidden by Kizuna's cake outfit, Kagome returned her attention to the busy fifth year who looked as though she were about to say something. Chikaru expressed her gratitude as she flicked through the selection, "Thank you so much Byakuden-san; at least three of these need dealing with immediately, so your thoughtfulness is very much appreciated." She cupped the back of Kagome's head with her hand, smiling with fond eyes. Then, placing the majority of the bundle onto her desk she turned one letter in particular over and over, her face taking a troubled frown. "Where will she be I wonder?" she pondered aloud, the bright red ribbons in her hair framing her thoughtful expression. Having decided she didn't have the time to indulge the question, she turned back to Kagome. "Would my council assistant mind another small task?" she asked. The first year shook her head, mousey brown curls bouncing about before settling back into place. "What would Chikaru-senpai like Kagome-chan to do?" she inquired quietly. Chikaru explained as she handed the envelope back, "This letter is for Rokujo-san Kagome; she'll need to deal with the invoice this morning if we're going to get some of the banners in time for Saturday," Rubbing her weary brow she continued, "I'm not entirely sure where she'll be as council seniors have their lessons suspended in the final week of term to allow us to fulfil our administrative roles. I would imagine she'll be in the council chambers, but with so much going on this week I can't be sure. Would you mind finding her before your classes start?" Kagome shook her head again, her bottomless green eyes scanning the envelope before her. "Is there anything else Minamoto-sama needs?" she asked, looking up from beneath her ruffled fringe. The Lulim President smiled and replied softly, "No, no. You've done more than enough this morning as it is. You should get yourself together for class afterward." Still toying with the first year's thick blonde curls, she reasserted her thanks, "You've been very helpful Kagome-chan, thank you very much." Kagome looked up with her usual docile expression before nodding her fair well, smiling pleasantly before hurrying out of the room, hoping to catch Chiyo in case her fellow first year knew where the Miatorian President was. - - - - - Chiyo trudged along the corridor towards the main stairwell, knowing she was running out of time before classes began, juggling one of what seemed to be a hundred different tasks. Her apron was dirty and stained, her white cotton frill crooked in her hair and her face hot and sweaty with exertion. Banging against her thigh was a heavy mop bucket full of filthy water which she grappled with both hands, the mop itself standing precariously within and balanced across one shoulder, threatening to slide off as she walked. Having spent the better part of her morning so far racing around on her upperclassman's behalf, she was now attempting to stow her cleaning materials and get back to her own room so she could change and get some food herself. And caught up in her chore-fuelled sulk, none of it made any sense to her at all. So there was Miyuki Rokujo, school council President and Head Girl of Miator; she had assistants and aides. There was Hitomi Tougi and Mizuho Kanou, senior assistants to the school council President herself; they had assistants and aides. The girls that helped those girls; they had aid from the aspiring third and fourth years that wanted to join the council the following term. And those upcoming seniors; they had help from their room temps. So young Chiyo Tsukidate, room temp to the Etoile-in-appointment, the two most respected and loved seniors in all of Astrea; why exactly didn't she have assistants and aides? Chiyo let off a resounding humph as she made her way toward the cleaning cupboard, wondering how in the world her position could be seen as fair. When her onee-sama became Etoile along with Tamao-san, everyone had rallied to their side to help them cope with the extra responsibility. Miyuki-san had even appointed the former-Etoile Shizuma Hanazono to help them herself! But had anyone thought of little Chiyo, left alone to deal with the weight of cleaning up after two such important figure heads, making sure the girls had a pristine environment in which to make their world changing decisions that affected the lives of every student in Astrea on a day to day basis? Had they rushed to her side when she was tasked with preparing and organizing the Etoile's attire and stage space on Ball night? Had they sympathized with little Chiyo when she noted that she herself would be unable to join in the fun of selecting and preparing a gown for the event, given she had to remain in uniform? No, of course they hadn't. And as much as she adored her onee-sama and wished her every joy, she was growing exceedingly tired of never seeing Aoi-san and spending all of her time running around after the miserable and extremely frustrating Suzumi-san. What had happened to that girl anyway? She was almost as bad as that Tsubomi was, sat around all day moping, pretending like the world was over. And that extremely aggravating Spican first year had done nothing but snap at poor Chiyo whenever she'd approached the sullen girl during the past few days, despite Tsubomi obviously needing a friend and having no one else to talk to as she sat alone away from all of her class mates. Not any real surprise given the company she'd been keeping previously, Yaya Nanto very much the black sheep of the Spican flock. So first there was her onee-sama, who did nothing but look glum and miserable, half asleep on her feet as she chased around as Etoile all day. Then there was Tamao-san, who did nothing but stare at walls and contemplate the meaning of the universe. Then there was Tsubomi-chan, who did likewise, pouting like a little girl, playing with her ridiculous hair. Even Hikari-san would undoubtedly be looking miserable if she hadn't run away to do it somewhere else! Like Chiyo didn't have enough problems of her own without having to sort out those of her usually chirpy school friends around her. And where was her help? "Chiyo-chan?" The dull tones of Kagome Byakuden snapped her from her sulk, and the Miatorian half turned so she could face the brunette, the mop handle stopping her from doing so properly. Facing as far as she could to one side, but unable to see the Lulim girl yet, Chiyo replied, "Kagome-chan?" The youngster's small tone betrayed her loneliness, her current frustrations simply born from having spent far too much time alone doing things for people she felt utterly transparent to, the emotional whirlwind passing through senior circles slowly beginning to effect the girls beneath them. Once Kagome finally came into view, she watched as the petite brunette approached. The first year looked so completely different without that bear Chiyo thought to herself, her peer walking toward her gracefully, long brunette curls shuffling with each step. She looked older, more confident, more mature. It was as though she'd become a different person altogether, and Chiyo wished she had a bear to throw away herself. "Good morning Chiyo-chan," the youngster offered, still clutching the important looking envelope in her hand. She stopped beside the Miatorian, her huge green eyes looking deep within poor Chiyo as she struggled with her load. "You look very sad this morning Chiyo-chan? Kagome-chan was worried when she saw you earlier." Stepping around the underclassman, Kagome took the mop handle from Chiyo's shoulder, falling into step as they continued towards the cleaning cupboard. Chiyo's gaze fell as she shuffled onward, and she explained in a small voice, "Everyone's just so glum Kagome-chan. I didn't think the Christmas Ball would be like this," and looking up she turned to the Lulim-girl to ask, "Shouldn't it be a happy occasion? We all get to go home soon." Kagome lowered her gaze next, nodding as she did. Taking a moment to think, she replied sagely, "Kagome-chan thinks it still will be. Rokujo-san and Chikaru-senpai have put lots of work into the Ball, and when everything gets under way, Chiyo-chan will see everyone realise that it's almost time to go home and cheer up." Chiyo sighed, wishing she had her friend's confidence in the matter. She couldn't picture her onee-sama any more miserable. Noting the envelope again she paused, mid-thought to ask, "What is that Kagome-chan? Are you on an errand?" Returning to the matter in hand, Kagome nodded, replying, "Kagome-chan needs to find Rokujo-san. Does Chiyo-chan know where she is?" The tiny Miatorian wracked her brain, replying distractedly, "Um... hmm..." The first year motioned to Kagome to turn right at the junction they had just reached, guiding her friend the few remaining steps to the communal kitchen where she would empty her mob bucket. Hefting the heavy metal container up to shoulder height and tipping it over the edge of the sink so the dirty water could drain away, she turned back to her peer, replying more concisely, "I'm not sure where Rokujo-san is, but I think I saw Etoile-sama Tamao-chan in the lounge. Does that help Kagome-chan?" Kagome smiled happily at the tiny student, turning quickly and disappearing off in the right direction, leaving the Miatorian to her mop bucket. As the last of the water drained away, leaving a dark swirl of grit and filth from the dormitory floors gathering around the plug hole, she sighed to herself as she proved her own point. There she was again, solving everyone else's problems. And where was someone to solve hers? Sinking back into her lonely sulk and scowling to herself as she stepped out backwards into the corridor, she jumped with a start as she found herself bumping into someone. Whirling to apologise, she tripped over her feet, collapsing into a messy heap before the worried figure of former-Etoile, Amane Ohtori. The fifth year, dressed in a tennis skirt and t-shirt, carrying her racket and a white leather sports bag had been chatting merrily to a dark haired companion when the tiny first year had backed out into her. Offering a hand to help the Miatorian to her feet, Amane asked, "Are you okay? You're not hurt are you?" Cutting in, the raven haired Spican beside her leered, "Of course she's okay Amane; this is Nagisa and Tamao's room temp. I'd imagine she's received much worse stuck in the firing line between Nagisa and Miyuki." The dark figure brushed Chiyo down with a few token strokes, then straightened up and pushed a sloping fringe away from her coal black eyes, "You'll be fine won't you Tsukidate-kun." Obviously in a hurry, she motioned for her fellow Spican to follow, "Cmon, before we lose our place on the courts." And as Amane bid her best wishes and farewell, Chiyo stood amongst the mess of her mop bucket and dishevelled apron, watching as the two Spicans disappeared down the corridor. Displeased with having been talked down to so casually and less than fond of the other woman in the first place, Chiyo found herself wondering what exactly Hikari-chan would make of Kaname Kenjo spending so much time with her girlfriend lately. - - - - - "Three-love," Kaname pronounced with a sly smile before taking stance to serve. She stood for a moment, fingers deftly manoeuvring the yellow tennis ball in the palm of her hand, waiting until she felt the rubber seams within reach of her fingernails. Dark hair sloping across her face and onyx eyes sparkling wickedly beneath her fringe, the cool fifth year looked up as she called across the court, "You know, you don't play so well without an audience Amane." Jibe delivered, and with an evil smile on her lips, the tall Spican flicked the ball upward, watching as it span slowly on its apex, swimming like a lost cloud in the vast morning sky above. Then with a zip of racket strings slicing the air and a sickening crack as they impacted on the rubber projectile, she hammered the ball towards the waiting fifth year beyond. Shuffling quickly to one side, Amane parried the comment without need for words; the saddle star volleying the shot into the far corner of Kaname's half, winning the point outright. Kaname watched with a dry expression as the yellow ball bounced around briefly before coming to rest. As it rolled casually to a prompt stop, she chuckled wryly, "I should know better huh?" she asked, raising an eyebrow for effect. Her usual placid self on the field, Amane simply pushed her boyish mop out of her face and set about readying the return. Bouncing the next ball briefly, she took stance before replying in a sagely tone, "You know Kaname, if you concentrated more on your opponent and less on who they were, perhaps you'd find your form more consistent." Kaname grinned at the remark, knowing Amane was referring to her all too pressing need to beat her nemesis at the other end of the court, but happy to twist the subtext nonetheless. Quickly she bit back, "Like you'd notice one less Ohtori groupie anyway!" The former-Etoile rolled her eyes in mock disdain, before launching the ball back towards the older girl. Kaname lunged, but found herself lacking as the ball sailed past her again. Amane was right, the school council assistant was far too distracted with her practice partner; the game was close and Kaname definitely had the edge. She might even win the game with a little luck, but for some reason she kept lapsing focus, her mind elsewhere. Searching the darker recesses of her scheming mind, she began constructing fresh lines to provide her with a tactical edge. "Deuce," the boyish horse rider called, and stooped to gather a handful of new balls from the dispenser lying on the ground next to her gym bag and fleece. It was cold on the courts, but not unpleasantly so when exercising despite both students being clad in the formal white skirts required for league games; an attempt at keeping Kaname in good habits. The Spican was doing well on the circuit this term, and Astrea looked likely to take a full compliment of trophies come the spring tournaments. "Perhaps if you didn't play up to my distractions with that annoyingly coy indifference of yours, I'd find it much easier to concentrate," Kaname ventured, her lips pressed into a fiendish smile. It was Amane's turn to raise an eyebrow, bemused by her fellow Spican's blatancy although heart-warmed by the suggestion that she was actually worthy of the attention. With Shizuma so distracted of late, the company of Amane's former-rival these past five days had been a huge prop as the senior broke from isolation, the bravado and sarcasm-laden humour helping raise her spirits as she set about regaining some of her lost confidence and self-esteem. This was definitely not the time to remain alone, Amane thought, grateful for Kaname's presence. Failing to mask her appreciation and blank the endless flirt at the other end of the asphalt enclosure, she replied with her brown eyes lowered to the floor but with a subtle smile on her lips, "If Momomi hears you spouting that rubbish you'll never hear the end of it." Kaname's reply was almost instantaneous, "As if that miserable cow could careless," she retorted, and gestured with her racket for the former-Etoile to continue play. Not letting her tease go, the council assistant's dark eyes became little more than coal black slits as she purred in her usual husky tone, "Anyway, what's wrong with me? Am I not good enough to join the fan girl horde?" Amane rolled her eyes and belted the ball across the court. This time Kaname was fast enough, stepping to her left side and back-handing the return. A blur of white fabric, the two athletes rallied at full tilt, the court alive with echoing impacts and the sound of restrained exertion. Back and forth the ball flew, neither girl gaining the upper hand, slow shots countered with pounding volleys, high speed returns generating breathtakingly fast intervals during which the duo played on reflex alone, the game only calming as the ball lost momentum or one of the girls sliced their shot. Catching a particularly awkward bounce, Amane curled the ball high into the air, arcing it across the net in perfect position for her opponent to out stretch her and finish the set in style. But before Kaname could connect the shot, a deep voice rumbled across the court, the school janitor pulling both of the girls from their concentration. "You two wanting to use the showers after this?" the ragged old man growled abruptly, obviously unhappy at having to interact with the minors. Despite the distraction, Kaname's shot still rang true and she swiped the ball from the air with a sweeping downward stroke, launching it back at her opponent. But Amane had already lowered her guard and turned to face the workman; the tennis ball sailing through her peripheral vision before burying itself somewhere beneath the wooden benches at the back. Snarling at the interruption and realizing she'd just been robbed of her first victory against Spica's long standing number one, Kaname flicked her fringe as she turned to the overall clad man filling the entrance to the changing block. She snapped venomously, "Should you been in here during school hours?" Avoiding Kaname's burning gaze, the janitor adjusted something on the tool belt hanging around his waist, replying with disinterest, "They want the shower plumbing cleaned; I'm not starting an all day job at six in the evening." Happy with the alterations he'd made, he added bluntly, "It gets done now or not at all." Kaname sighed, looking back across the net at Amane. The fifth year held her hands up in resignation; both girls would need a shower before returning to class, so it appeared their game would have to be cut short. Kaname waved her hand in annoyance, dismissing the man. Turing away, he mumbled his response, "I'll leave one on for you. You'll have to take turns," and then disappeared into the dim shadows beyond. Kaname stood for a moment mid-court, lost in the thunder storm churning through her head. Then after a pause she slowly began to laugh her dark, sultry laugh. Curious and waiting for the punch line, Amane watched as she set about gathering her things. But Kaname seemed totally lost in her own amusement, until eventually the former Etoile finally ventured in confusion, "What is it Kenjo-san?" With a crooked smile the young women replied sarcastically, "It seems even divine intervention is on your side Amane," she held her hands up in defeat, "Will I ever beat you at anything?" The former-Etoile shook her head with amusement, and she threw a towel across the net. "You never give up do you?" Kaname capitalised, replying in a silky voice, "You know me Amane, I always get my way eventually." Smiling at the unashamedly corny line, Spica's equestrian superstar shook her head again and turned to follow the janitor, her opponent sheathing her racket and grabbing her leather bag before moving to follow. It was dim in the changing rooms after the bright morning sun outside, and it wasn't long before the girls found themselves shivering as the warmth of exercising wore off, the cold lino floor doing nothing for the ambient temperature within. Hurrying to the shower room, they stopped by the lockers to stash their bags. Navigating the long rows of steel door fronts, the duo stopped at the fifth year bank and started putting their things away. "You've got french next huh?" Kaname asked as she carefully placed her racket into the narrow cabinet before her. Amane nodded, and Kaname gestured, "You might as well go first then, I'm only going as far as the maths block and I'm not letting you cut class again." Amane baulked with the ironic amusement of being kept on the straight and narrow by the school trouble maker, but acknowledged the offer with silent thanks. She removed her wash bag and school uniform from the locker, setting a mobile phone and keys down beside her somewhat plain and understated white sports bag. Turning, she asked, "Would you mind watching these for me? If I put them in my locker I'm bound to forget the phone; I'm still not used to carrying it." Kaname frowned, unable to recall the fifth year ever having had one with her before. "Sure, go for your life. But hurry eh? Before the old sod cuts the water completely." Nodding, Amane hurried off, the Spican janitor not known for his patience or his understanding. As she closed the frosted perspex door to the shower cubicles behind her, the tall fifth year's figure disappeared from sight and the sound of hot water drumming on the tiled floor beyond soon filled the room. Kaname sat stretched out across one of the metal benches that ran between the banks of lockers, the worn green leather surface nicked and marked from years of service, the occasional set of initials in a love heart scoured into the fabric. Slowly massaging her calves as they tightened from the morning's game, idle curiosity drew the fifth year to Amane's mobile phone and she turned it over and over slowly in her hand. It must be fairly new; it was a recent model and the handset showed little signs of use; even the plastic screen protector was still intact. "So what's with you leaving the stone-age then?" Kaname called, trying to catch the former-Etoile's attention over the noise of running water. But obviously out of ear shot, Amane failed to respond and Kaname shrugged, replacing the phone and returning her attention to her aching legs. It was no wonder they were sore; Kaname had certainly given the reclusive horse-lover a run for her money today. So close this time she thought to herself, although Kaname could hardly claim her former-rival was at her best, the troubled fifth year only now beginning to return to her usual self. Reaching backwards, the brooding council assistant pulled a leaf from the evergreen bush set in a plant pot at the end of the row. Tearing bits off the stem she rolled the remainder between a finger and thumb, pondering through the sloping curtain of her dark fringe. These past few weeks had been a whirlwind for the failed-Etoile Kaname thought, soon noting that her own life had hardly been a cake walk either. Astrea Hill had become quite the soap opera during the election; besides the Ohtori-Konohana saga, there'd been Yaya's fight with the school council President, the Miatorian appointment and on a personal level, Momomi's endless mind games. The sulking brunette was no less of a handful now than she'd been immediately after the pre-election tennis duel the two girls had emulated today, Kaname's roommate still an annoying cocktail of hostility and an almost desperate need for attention. She would swing between throwing endless reels of snide comments at the fifth year, forcing her once-lover to bite her tongue to avoid triggering a full blown row, to maintaining a constant and clinging proximity that annoyed Kaname almost as much as the insults did. It was as though Momomi was desperately trying to let go but couldn't quite manage it yet. Time invested I guess, the dark haired senior thought to herself, and she tossed the crumpled leaf to one side dismissively. Then, just as she was about to stand and stretch her legs out, a high pitched bleeping split the air and the angry growl of high-speed motor vibration rocked the handset on the end of the bench. Surprised by the ferocity of the noise, Kaname jumped and turned toward the phone, waiting to see if it would stop. It didn't, and as the fifth year watched the handset shuffle around on the leather seat, she caught something on the bright digital display set atop the grey shell; a single luminescent word that stood out, commanding her attention. 'Hikari.' Kaname's eyes widened into dark pools. The third year was still trying to keep contact with Amane? Kaname wracked her brain, sure the former-Etoile hadn't mentioned anything about the tiny blonde having spoken to her recently. This must be a first since Hikari's departure? Mind churning, the council assistant realised that despite dismissive words to an antagonistic Momomi on the morning after Hikari had left, recently she'd totally blanked the prospect that the third year might actually return; particularly over the course of this past week when Hikari Konohana had been, for all intents and purposes, a past tense subject. Her dark eyes flicked thoughtfully back to the handset and she watched as the mobile continued its merry dance around the green leather bench top, threatening to dive onto the hard floor below if it weren't stopped from creeping towards the edge. Kaname grimaced, able to picture the shattered plastic shell and cracked screen all too easily. She should answer it really, not that she particularly wanted to talk to Hikari, but it was that or the phone was bound to slide off and break, and after all, she had promised to look after it. Vivid memories sprung into the tall Spican's mind, including the characteristic call, 'Amane-senpai?' Kaname cringed at the prospect of Hikari's whiny voice, but regardless of whether she answered the phone or not, Amane was bound to find out Hikari had tried to contact her and stress about whether she should return the call afterwards. Finding herself strangely unsettled by the prospect, Kaname sat up straight, staring again at the name on the display. There'd been something very right about these past few days with Amane she thought, and things were bound to change if Hikari came back on the scene. Amane would become the blubbering mess she was a fortnight ago, something that the raven haired council assistant had struggled with as it was, her patience only strengthened by the refreshing process of building new bridges with her former rival. There it was again, the fifth year realised; Ohtori worship. Dark lips sneered wryly as she remembered her words to Momomi before the first election; god knows how she'd managed to fool her brunette girlfriend with that line about watching her competitor closely. Over the clatter of the handset, slow realisation worked on the usually calm and self-controlled tennis star, anxiety building in the back of her mind. Not only Momomi though she conceded, she'd fooled herself as well. And these five days really had been nice. A mixture of tennis, running, swimming and joking at the dinner table, they'd provided an escape from the aggravation of being around Momomi, sweetened by the knowledge that she was actually making a positive difference to someone else's life for a change. Bad girl gone good? Probably not no, but certainly at least the beginnings of a strong friendship she'd hoped. And if Hikari did worm her way back into Amane's life, all of that would most certainly change. Unable to think due to the din and overcome by a sudden sense of urgency, the young woman snarled at the device to shut up, the persistent beeping noise only getting louder with each repetition. Something had shifted within her emotionally, and with the infernal racket she couldn't focus properly to make sense of it. Frustration building, the raven haired Spican snorted in contempt. Kaname needed more time to think, to catch the sentiment, and knowing she had to silence the damn thing before Amane heard it and returned, the tall fifth year flicked the shell open. The previous bedlam gave way to the soft sound of the shower, followed shortly by a pensive voice calling from the tiny embedded speaker. "...Amane-senpai?" Kaname's breathing hastened, and she became aware of the sudden need to swallow, her throat dry as her recently discovered conscious nagged at her angrily. Feeling intrusive and knowing she was betraying her new friend's confidence, she battled internally as she held the ear piece closer so she could hear more clearly. "Amane-senpai?" the voice called again. Kaname glanced apprehensively at the frosted door at the end of the hall. Surely Amane would have heard the ringing over the noise of the shower. Any second now she'd appear wrapped in a towel, anxiously asking who was on the other end of the line. But there was no sign of the former-Etoile, the sound of running water still constant and undisturbed. The voice continued, "I got your text message; I've so wanted to call but my parents took my phone away before taking me to Europe. It's been locked in my father's draw ever since and we only got back today. They've gone out and I don't know when they'll be back so I don't have long... Amane-senpai, I saw you at our house... I wanted to wave, I felt so...-" Hikari was pouring her little heart out, but the words drifted into the background as Kaname's head swam, her mind torn between the gut churning fact that she was doing something very underhand and the sudden and marked need to stop Hikari from contacting the Spican champion. 'What am I doing?' she asked herself inwardly, 'Why don't I just take the phone to the shower room and be done with it? Why do I give a fuck if Amane and the dumb blonde get back together?' Brow deep, she added as a point of justification, 'After all, I'm with Momomi, right?' But as the small but familiar voice from the handset shifted pitch as it continued rambling, Kaname plunged deeper into thought. 'With Momomi huh? Some consolation that is...' came the bitter reply, and out of nowhere the memory of carrying Amane from the boiler room on that rainy thursday morning sprang to mind, the tired figure resting on her shoulder warm and comfortingly close, an unspoken but mutual respect passing between them. Dark eyes twinkling, Kaname pondered the mental image. One strong woman supporting another in a time of need; two rivals, two equals, together. The kind of companionship Kaname had always wished for, the kind she'd searched for with the unsettlingly contradictory Momomi, only to fall so soon after the first real hurdle. 'Something very right indeed...' the fifth year repeated, and cold logic of it hit Kaname full on. This was pathetic. The Kaname Kenjo that rose to fame amongst the halls of Spica did not cower behind her conscious, did not bow to societies dictations of what was right and what was wrong; she took what she wanted, with style at that, and without a single glance back over her shoulder. This bullshit stopped right now. The fifth year snapped the shell closed, cutting the third year off mid sentence. Reopening the phone, she quickly thumbed back through the call log to check it had indeed been a one off, and then deleted the entry and blocked Hikari's number. She was sure Amane wouldn't know it had been done, and as her breathing slowed, the raven haired Spican coolly replaced the headset on the bench. Struggling conscience silenced, she waited for her pulse to return to normal, waited for her composure to return. Stretching out across the leather seat, she smoothed the tired muscles in her long athletic legs, reflecting as she did. She was Kaname Kenjo, one of the most powerful and respected students on Astrea Hill; it was only right that she claim her place beside the only Spican to have shone brighter than her. Hikari Konohana had had her chance she decided, certain the whiny teenager had only been able to capture Amane's attention in the first place because of the Spican idol's long lasting isolation. And through slanted black lashes the fifth year realised that now, finally, the companionship she'd hankered after ever since the successful transfer student had joined the school and caught her eye, might actually be hers. - - - - - "Nagisa honey, pass me my black hair clip would you?" Shizuma called, holding her silver mass of hair in one hand and a burgundy scrunchie between the fingers of the other. The redhead did as requested, reaching from her position on Shizuma's dormitory bed to grasp the black plastic crocodile clip from the smooth wooden desk opposite. Leaning back again she handed the accessory to her girlfriend before continuing to unhinge herself from her cumbersome Miator uniform. The fourth year sat, knees tucked beneath her on the soft covers of the single dormitory bed, staring off into the space somewhere beyond the dark shadows of the candle lit room. Nagisa adored candle light, and Shizuma did her best to indulge the preference each evening, hoping to relax her fiancée before bed. Tipping her head forward as she tied the scrunchie and placed the clip, the sixth year straightened up again, considering the thoughtful form on her bed. Nagisa might as well be in another world completely for all it mattered; she'd hardly muttered a word since returning from the evening's council meetings. "I take it everything's just about ready now?" she asked, hoping for a response, but the fourth year simply nodded her reply as she slipped out of her uniform and pulled a peach nightdress awkwardly over her head. Shizuma sighed. The red headed Etoile had been like this for almost a week now; no explanation, no theatrics, just a constant and soul wrenching emotional numbness. No matter how hard Shizuma tried, Nagisa just wasn't opening the door, the sullen fourth year cold and withdrawn. The happy smiles on the day of their engagement seemed an age away. Waiting a moment for authenticity, she swiped her half full tea cup from the desk with an elbow, cursing as it hit the floor and shattered. Finally the new Etoile jumped to life. "Shizuma? Are you okay?" she asked as she whirled in concern, reaching for the upperclassman as the older girl knelt to gather the porcelain. Shizuma smiled as she looked up into Nagisa's deep brown eyes, "I'm fine my love, just a slip," she said, adding "would you pass me the bin from the bathroom please?" Nagisa slid off the bed, tip toeing bare foot around the broken cup and hurried off to the bathroom. As the silver-haired Miatorian finished collecting the fragile white shards, the fourth year returned with the metal waste paper bin. Holding it still for her girlfriend, Nagisa watched as the former-Etoile carefully placed each razor-sharp piece into the bottom of the paper bin bag, meticulously picking the tinier bits from her skin, the tea coated china stuck to her finger tips and threatening to cut her later if she wasn't careful about removing them. Satisfied she'd got the lot and noting Nagisa's fixated expression, the sixth year prepared herself as she decided it was time to change to her intended subject, "You've not called your French tutor back?" Shizuma asked off handily, hoping she'd engineered the situation innocently enough to avoid the topic turning into a confrontation. Still pacified by her concern for Shizuma's well-being, Nagisa's gaze lifted from her place knelt beside her fiancée, hands resting on the lip of the bin. "No...," after which she added in confusion, "I didn't tell you I'd taken that telephone call did I?" Shizuma smiled, emerald eyes swimming in the candle light. "No honey, you didn't." Wiping up the pool of spilt tea from the polished floor boards with a cleaning cloth that Nagisa had brought with her from the bathroom, Shizuma checked she hadn't missed any smaller bits of china before standing, dropping the shard covered cloth into the bin and returning the container to its rightful place. She rinsed her hands quickly in the sink, before returning to stand in the bedroom doorway, straightening out her crumpled uniform. Nagisa remained where she was, knelt on the floor, watching her girlfriend as she waited for an explanation. "So how do you know...?" she finally asked. Shizuma grinned again, inwardly hoping she'd judged the fourth year's mood correctly. Tipping her head to one side as she regarded the perplexed figure below her fondly, she replied softly, "Because I arranged the lessons for you Nagisa." The fourth year scowled. She'd assumed it had been one of Miyuki's ploys, not something Shizuma had cooked up herself. Surely the couple had better ways of using their free time than compromising their relationship further with prolonged separation? A dark thought crossed her mind, souring her mood even further. Unless of course, Shizuma was eager to free some time up for more cosy conversation with the school council President. But as the red head opened her mouth to protest, the silver haired senior added, "You've met the tutor before Nagisa; she's looking forward to seeing you again." Her anger somewhat pacified by her deepened curiosity, Nagisa furrowed her brow to request clarity. "Shizuma-sama?" Reaching down, the sixth year offered her hands outstretched to help Nagisa stand, watching the fourth year's slender profile through the thin nightdress as she did, leading her girlfriend back to the bed side. Still standing, she continued, "I explained to Emmie that you were feeling the pressure of everything going on lately, and that your lack of time learning French was complicating matters," Shizuma bid the fourth year sit and curled a leg beneath herself as she sat sideways, stroking the red locks from her girlfriend's face, "Emmie said she'd be more than happy to treat you to lunch and help you catch up a bit. She said she misses joking around with you." Nagisa's neck and shoulders relaxed as the anger slipped away, happy with the explanation and kicking herself for her cynicism, although the thought of extra study still left her miserable. "I miss her too Shizuma. It was so nice, that day at your mother's..." the fourth year reflected quietly, her gaze unfocused and directed somewhere across the floor. "It all seems so long ago now..." she murmured in a low voice. Shizuma smiled, turning Nagisa's head with fingers that gently cupped the Aoi girl's slender cheek. "A morning off premises and away from the stress will do you good no?" she asked, trying to instil some cheer in the red head. Nagisa nodded solemnly, the prospect of being away from Miyuki's constant scowl very much appealing; anything to get some peace and quiet away from the woman. "And it's not like it will effect our time together, I've made sure it coincides with council duty and Miyuki can hardly say no after lecturing me so extensively on distracting you from your education." Somewhere deep in Nagisa's consciousness a spark snapped her to focus. Lecturing her? But Shizuma pressed the subject too quickly for the red headed Etoile to structure comment or question, "So I've arranged a cab for you at ten tomorrow morning. Emmie's going to meet you at a café in town a little after half ten; she's got a shoot to finish up before heading in herself, but she'll be happy to give you a lift back afterwards." Shizuma beamed, toying with Nagisa's fringe, "It'll be Christmas before you know it Nagisa. We can go see them together again." But the fourth year merely managed a vacant nod, her mind a world away as it churned Shizuma's comment about Miyuki, and the endless uncertainty and emotional insecurities that it had spawned.
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