Of everyone on that balcony, of all the girls that had stood witness to the shattered Miyuki as Nagisa and Shizuma had left the Grand Hall, of all of them present at the time, why did it have to end up being her? Tamao had followed Nagisa to the upper level out of concern for her fellow Etoile, not out of concern for Miyuki, and with absolutely no desire to find herself stuck in this horrible juxtaposition, a situation that might all too easily be misconstrued for having taken sides if someone were to relay it to the other Etoile. She'd wanted to make sure her roommate was okay, wanted to ensure Nagisa wasn't about to make a mistake she would only end up regretting. And yet, with no intention of doing so, somehow Tamao was stuck here afterward playing chamber maid to the Miatorian council President she half despised and thoroughly resented. The beleaguered Etoile reconsidered her situation as she groped for the metal tin of tea leaves on the top shelf of the staff cupboard, the fourth year fumbling around for the elusive rectangular container she knew Tanaka-sensei kept well hidden on the dusty shelf above the students line of sight. Finally locating the cool tin canister, she carefully retrieved it and set about adding the fragrant sakura leaves to the teacher's battered old tea pot. Stirring the steaming water idly, Tamao recaptured the scene on the top floor of the Grand Hall. She'd emerged from the stairwell mere seconds after Nagisa, both girls catching only the very end of Shizuma's interactions with the altered and uneasy looking Miatorian, Shizuma stepping away from the now devastated looking council President as Nagisa stalked toward them both, the younger Etoile facing away from the elder with her face hidden and unreadable. Tamao had then watched with a bittersweet sense of relief as the Aoi girl had slowly allowed herself to sink into Shizuma's arms, the couple sharing the tenderest of moments before the red head had pulled back suddenly, the most compelling of looks on her face as she'd whispered something privately to her girlfriend. Of what that had been, or what had caused the couple's sudden departure immediately afterwards, Tamao remained unsure, but inundated with a seemingly endless deluge of questions from the other girls around her, the dark haired Etoile had then crept forward toward the balcony edge of out reflex, stunned by the whole series of events and nervous as to what she might find given the Rokujo girl's sudden disappearance from sight. Walking out onto the terrace proper, Tamao had then found the shattered council President crumbled into the back of a deep balcony pew, her long onyx hair fallen across her face and her gaze distant and broken. Politeness and respect had dictated Tamao remove the woman somewhere private. Breeding and ethics had required she give the council President some time to recover, and Tamao's own empathy and pity had kept her there long enough to have made the offer of refreshment. But how she could justify staying with Miyuki any further after returning with the tea was another question altogether, the sixth year after all the very same woman responsible for the terrible and demeaning tirades levelled endlessly at Tamao's dearest friend and object of affection. How could Tamao cope with tending such a person? How when Miyuki had done so much to complicate and hinder the fourth year's friendship with the former-Etoile's fiancée? How, when once again, yet another moment of upheaval in Nagisa's short life at Astrea had featured the obscure sixth year Tamao now found herself nursing? Sighing to herself softly, the dark haired Etoile soon noted that the matter was inescapable regardless of whether or not she wanted it to be, and Tamao tried once again to formulate what she might say to the distraught sixth year when she returned to her. Tamao had left Miyuki in a nearby science class while she gone to make the tea, the distance between rooms nowhere near far enough for the young woman's preference, but isolated just enough to allow Tamao to think. Removing the strainer from the tannin marred teapot, she stared blankly at the dark crimson liquid swirling within. Of all the people it could have been to face this task, of all the girls that might have offered Miyuki their hand as they'd all stood there eyeballing, why did it have to have been her? - - - - - "Minamoto-sama?" a voice called above the music. Chikaru snapped to, the pretty Lulim President having spaced out as she was watched the youngsters around her dancing. Somewhere in the back of her mind, bemusement and intrigue were busy losing a pitched battle with concern and social responsibility. It was well past the traditional finishing time for the Christmas Ball, and despite the jovial atmosphere that the pounding music still generated, it wouldn't be long before the Sisters would come looking for answers. Not to say that this was a Lulim event, nor that the council President might intercede without first having to trigger an uncomfortable scene, but at the rate things were going, the prospect was fast becoming an unavoidable eventuality. Turning toward the inquiry, Chikaru considered the worried expression on Hitomi Tougi's face. "Tougi-san?" the fifth year replied, having to strain herself to be heard. The sixth year looked pensive beneath her plum-red bob, her slate blue eyes dancing with the frantic spots of the lighting rig above them. "Have you seen the Etoile anywhere Minamoto-sama? Or Miyuki? We can't find them anywhere and it's getting late," she called back anxiously. Chikaru shook her head, her pale foundation creasing in shared concern, "I was just thinking that myself Tougi-san," she replied, about to lean in toward the Miatorian's ear to repeat herself. But then, in a brief lull as the hammering racket around them subsided, Chikaru found herself able to return to her usual soft tones. Her ears might be ringing, but her voice was nonetheless clear, allowing her to restart her reply, "No Tougi-san no, I've not seen any of them since the Etoile dance," she explained, "nor Hanazono-sama for that matter either." "We need to wrap this up," Hitomi declared, prompting the Lulim geisha to nod in agreement. "If I can arrange the last dance, could you do the announcements for us?" Hitomi asked, the sixth year having to strain, her polite manner giving way to the further need to shout as the music's volume returned. The Lulim council President nodded her agreement, raising a finger as she patiently waited for another lull in which she would relay her own requests to the Miatorian. Glancing around amidst the colourful chaos whirring about them, she scanned the Hall for potential aid during the pause. "Can you find something a bit calmer to end the night with Tougi-san?" she asked, another opportunity to speak normally having presented itself, "I'll try to find some council members to help clear the Hall, and then perhaps you'd meet me by the stage afterward? I'll do the official close as soon as we have some people to assist us," she explained, prompting a curt bow from the red head as she turned on heel and hurried off toward the PA box near the stage. Chikaru glanced around her again, her pupils swimming as the girls to her side giggled their way through one of the rowdier foreign songs, Remon and Kizuna amongst them and delirious as they reproduced the "make a li'l love" actions for the song playing in the background, the pair wiggling their collective posteriors to the following "get down..." line. She smiled a wry smile to herself, watching as the group collapsed into a heap of wild laughter and wide, beaming eyes, Chikaru noting the obvious influence that the choice of music and the younger, now absentee-Etoile's earlier performance had had on the evening's proceeding; Christmas Balls were traditionally formal affairs, with polite dances, acceptable accompaniment and underlying, but still well-restrained excitement. This year's incarnation however, had brought an entirely new beast to the fold. Wondering in curiosity just what had happened to the pivotal couple since their dramatic exit, Chikaru peered again at the Balcony railing above her. - - - - - "I'm sorry Suzumi-san," came Miyuki's soft voice, her words shaky and underwritten by the nervous tones of shock and disbelief, the council senior floating in third person and obviously taken aback by her own actions, her hand held atop her crown, the long onyx strands of her black hair falling messily from between her fingers as she stared wide eyed at the carnage before her. "I'm not sure what came over me," she mumbled, the sixth year dazed and detached as she glanced across the floor. Shards of porcelain still rocked idly where they'd landed, the crimson spray of the ejected sakura blossom tea staining the bone white ceramics as though they'd been washed with fresh blood, the floor damp and sticky, the surrounding stools and tables of the science laboratory spattered with fragmented china and dripping cherry liquid. Miyuki remained motionless, her eyes vacant and her expression fully culled. Straightening slowly from her foetal position of instinctive self-protection, Tamao edged nervous blue eyes beyond Miyuki's bare shoulder so she could fully glimpse the resulting destruction. She'd been in the process of handing Miyuki the tray when the sixth year had launched it toward the back wall, Tamao immediately flinching in fear of being struck; such was the show of emotion from the unhinged council senior as she'd launched the projectiles into the wall. Clanking noisily with a dull metal ring, the recently propelled tea tray finally slipped from its precarious place of impact and clattered loudly onto the tiled floor behind the back line of desks. For a long while, Tamao didn't dare comment. "I should clean this up," Miyuki mumbled, her spirit utterly broken and her mind so obviously disconnected from her actions. Catching the bewildered look on the sixth year's face, Tamao found herself suddenly spurred into action, quickly reaching forward to catch Miyuki's hand as she knelt vacantly to collect the razor sharp china scattered around her feet. Easing Miyuki's fingers clear from the waiting array of serrated shards, Tamao provided as much reassurance as her petrified voice could gather, "We'll do that in a moment Rokujo-sama," she said, coaxing Miyuki back to her feet. "Perhaps we'd be better sitting down for a moment first?" she suggested, trying to ignore the chilling flashback that hit her as Miyuki turned back to face Tamao's voice. She'd wanted to flinch from the startling image, the woman in her mind snarling and pained as she had hurled her despair into the breeze block wall before her. Doing her best to bury the recollection, Tamao set about gathering Miyuki into the corner of the room, away from as much of the science equipment as possible, sitting her behind one of the lower tables the junior students would use when they next came to observe the seniors demonstrating practical chemistry on the workbench beside them. Miyuki was silent, her hands cupped before her face, her elbows resting on the table. Tamao remained standing at first, still staring at the dark haired woman in shock and surprise and thoroughly unsettled by the memory she was failing to quieten. But soon aware of her potential impoliteness however, the nervous fourth year slipped quietly into the seat opposite, Tamao doing her best to appear calm as she waited for the silent figure to respond. When Miyuki's face remerged from her hands, she'd regained the hint of corpus mentis, although her dark eyes were ringed with tears and her troubled face mixed with distress and apology. Unable to stop herself from asking, Tamao's did her best to negotiate the situation tactfully, "Perhaps the council President has something she might benefit from discussing...?" she offered meekly, her voice as small and polite as she could force it to be. Shifting her dark orbs to one side, Miyuki considered the words as her gaze crossed the fourth year's face and out across the carnage to Tamao's side. "It would appear so, yes..." the older girl breathed. - - - - - "...I've been awful haven't I Shizuma?" The words filled the silence, the lounge an otherwise barren landscape, the downpour outside and Shizuma's gentle sobbing having long subsided, the tracks on the Miatorian's cheeks now tacky and marred by the small clumps of mascara that her tears had carried away, the material gaining stark definition in the pale moonlight that bathed the sixth year's skin, the once-Etoile sat clutching a handkerchief in her lap as she starred out toward the window bays. The room was all but peaceful otherwise, both girls exhausted by their feelings, both left desolate and drained by the gruelling experience of being at odds with each other for such a long period of time. Shizuma stirred at Nagisa's proclamation, her still-loaded eyes shifting back toward her girlfriend, the red head remaining where she'd been, curled up on the sofa opposite. "To you," Nagisa continued, "to Tamao," And after a short pause, "...to Miyuki." Shizuma's face creased as she rejected the idea, her furrowed brow tired and dismissive, "Nagisa..." But the fourth year cut in, stopping the older girl from digressing, "I should have known how she felt about you Shizuma, I did know how she felt about you... After all, it's no different to how Tamao feels about me." The Hanazono girl shook her head gently, her now husky voice betraying her earlier tears as she choked on her response, "That wasn't your concern Nagisa," she said, stopping to cough her throat clear before continuing in a more natural tone, "these were my mistakes to fix." The red head then despatched her reply with a frank sense of honesty, "No Shizuma, these are our mistakes; we did this," she said, before adding more calmly, "We made these things happen..." Shizuma considered the young Etoile through the fallen strands of her hair, the usually well-kept silver mane hanging messily about her face, the Hanazono girl having long abandoned her hair clips as she'd pulled her hair free to sweep the sodden strands from her face and neck. Nagisa's manner had changed, her demeanour once again settled after the earlier altercation, her eyes thoughtful and sombre. "It wasn't like this when you were with Kaori-san was it? When you were younger?" Nagisa asked. The older girl pondered the question briefly before replying. "No, no it wasn't," she said, "But then, it was different with Kaori; we did our best to hide our feelings until the end..." The former-Etoile's voice trailed off as she gave her answer, finishing almost as a whisper when the underlying sentiment and uncomfortable memories finally surfaced, "It was just Miyuki..." The statement languished briefly before the red head interjected once again, "But we didn't did we Shizuma... and now everyone knows, and look how it's affected everyone. Look at Tamao, or at Chiyo-chan, or Hikari. This is our fault and we made these things happen," she stated. Then, with an air of regret, "It was all so much easier before summer," she added. Shizuma pondered her lover in dismay, "Would you rather things went back to how they were then?" she asked, the hopeful subtext calling for a prompt dismissal. The red head shook her own tangled amber mop, her expression obviously pained, "No Shizuma, no of course not. I just... I wish this was simpler," she stumbled, and she stared back with sad eyes. "I wish we could do this without hurting so many people," she continued, her words loaded with regret, "I love you so much Shizuma-sama," she mumbled, "but I don't understand why that's such a bad thing." The sixth year leaned forward on the sofa, her shattered heart as warmed as it was further ravaged by such defeatist talk, "It isn't Nagisa, don't be silly." Although with a remorseful air she then added, "I guess it's just easy to forget the way what we do affects the people around us." Nagisa fell still, her tired spirit telling and worn, "It was no different for your mother was it?" she asked offhandedly, glancing up as she completed her question, "For Mina-sama?" The Hanazono girl gently shook her head, "No, no it wasn't," she replied. The red head remained silent, and Shizuma watched the gentle rise and fall of her girlfriend's breath, the young Etoile still hugging her slender frame. The couple's gazes crossed awkwardly in passing, the pair then holding each other's eyes as they momentarily searched the thoughts reflected within them. "I don't want to lose this Shizuma," Nagisa declared softly, the young girl lifting her head as she finally stirred, "I don't want to be without you." Shizuma's reply was fond but firm, her path already decided, her mind made up during the long silence that had followed her tears. "You don't have to be Nagisa," she explained, trying to sound reassuring before she switched to a more determined manner, "But I have to fix things with her, I need to make this right again." She drew a short breath before finishing, the senior still fearing another outburst, knowing her next words would likely inflame matters all over again, "I need to make time for her too Nagisa; I need to make sure she knows I'm still there for her." "But she wants you to leave me!" the red head snapped back, the dusty embers of her earlier animosity flaring predictably, "How am I supposed to make space for that?" Shizuma's following response remained calm, despite her sentiment gaining a somewhat blunt edge, "And Tamao doesn't feel the same way about you?" she levelled, her gaze holding the fourth year's attention, "Tell me she doesn't secretly hope that I'll disappear come spring and never return." The red head fell silent. "Miyuki loved both of us Nagisa, both Kaori and I, and yet despite that she still showed the strength to stand by and support us during our time together. She deserves to be acknowledged for that, and so does Tamao for already having done the same for you." She continued to hold the red head's eyes, her own emerald pools commanding and unavoidable, "You can't continue to ignore her Nagisa," she said, "no more than I can Miyuki," and seeing the red head still struggling with her involuntary anger, Shizuma continued in the same firm manner as before, "You never did explain what Tamao had said before we went to Mother's that day, what she'd done to upset you so much. But it's obvious how she feels about you, and yet despite that, she's still made room for us Nagisa, she's tried hard where we've both failed her in return." For a moment it appeared Nagisa's objection had stalled, the sullen red head mumbling something in distraction, "Where I failed her... you're not the one who shouted at her." But when she continued again after, Nagisa had fast regained her justified air, even if her words now were calmer than before and her voice remained at its natural level. "What Tamao said has nothing to do with this Shizuma. It might have upset me at the time but you can't ask me to accept Miyuki just because you accepted Tamao, Tamao's not the one trying to split us up." Shizuma looked exasperated, "I wasn't saying she had Nagisa," she began, but the red head continued to talk straight over her. "You can't ask me to do this Shizuma, not until you can promise she'll be different the next time I see her." The resentment hung in the air like a dark cloud, the couple's differences still present and still so obviously unresolved. Her heart bled dry, her convictions utterly sapped from her, Shizuma could do little but stare at her lover with devastated eyes. There were no more confessions to make and no more tears to cry. She'd stripped herself of emotion, and with no answers left, she had no more solutions to fall back on. Would this be it? Would this be the unavoidable thorn that tore them apart? After a moment's silence, it was Nagisa who then re-instigated the conversation, "Was she pretty back then?" she asked idly, "Miyuki I mean; was she pretty before?" Too tired to consider the implications of an honest reply, Shizuma simply mumbled the truth, "She's always was Nagisa," the sixth year offered, "although I guess, seeing her like that tonight, I guess it made me remember. She's never brave enough with it usually." Nagisa's lack of response fell ambiguously, but the silver haired girl continued anyway, the upperclassman rambling past the point of concern, "She's not like you though," she muttered, and Nagisa glanced back across the lounge, her following question overwriting whatever it had been that Shizuma had mumbled after, "Like me?" she asked. The reply sparked something internally, and Shizuma's eyes refocused, the senior chuckling at her fiancée fondly, "It's not just about being pretty silly; there's everything else to it too." She leaned across the sofa, her back arching to one side as she tipped her head into the cushions in deep consideration. The oppressive atmosphere had lasted so long now, had dragged her so far beyond the depth to which her heart could be further hollowed that the problems seemed almost surreally disconnected, as though a sudden passing wind might sweep them aside on a whim. "You have a way with me Aoi-sama," she breathed, "you reach me in a way that no one else can." Shizuma's mind conjured images from their various encounters and her deep green eyes sparkled as she viewed the red head from a lopsided angle. Nagisa's own expression shifted in resignation, the softest of sighs passing her lips as she dipped her gaze to stare at her lap, the fourth year too weary and worn to deny the warmth the words had brought to her. "It's like you lean in and touch my heart directly," Shizuma continued, her free hand tracing idle patterns on the fabric to her side, "like you can see my soul." Pausing, she looked back at the girl across from her. "That day in the grounds Nagisa, the first day I met you; you touched me then," she said, sitting upright and leaning forward as she crossed her legs, the former-Etoile curling her arms across her lap, "You were just standing there, and yet you woke me from the longest of dreams. When I was in the loneliest of places, you let me breathe again." She smiled fondly, her eyes warm despite the tiredness and exertion. "You fixed me." And then, with a marked determination to sweep aside the otherwise unyielding curtain of post-apocalyptic doom, she gathered herself to her feet, the slender Miatorian leaving the couch and crossing the carpet between them. Once again Shizuma offered those hopeful fingers to the huddled figure opposite, "Come upstairs Nagisa. Please, let's just go to bed. We'll go to Miyuki tomorrow, and to Tamao too if that's what you decide you need to do. We'll put this right somehow then. But please Nagisa, for now, please just come to bed. I don't want to fight," she said. Nagisa stared back, her eyes reconsidering the outstretched hand, the fourth year once again contemplating the elegant fingers that beckoned her back toward her girlfriend's embrace, "I never wanted to fight either Shizuma-sama, I came back so happy. I just..." She faltered, the memories from the Grand Hall still raw, the image of Shizuma stood beside Miyuki, her hand resting on the sixth year's smooth tummy still too vivid, too intrusive to dismiss. But Shizuma's next words pulled her back again, her wayward convictions finally gathered, her heart laid bare as it could be as she made one final bid for forgiveness, "I know Nagisa," she said, her sincerity now snowfield pure against the bleak backdrop of slowly withdrawing distrust, "I know and I'm sorry. I'm so very sorry, it was wrong of me to let her in like that." She paused for emphasis, her final words wrapped with as much assurance as she could muster, "I will fix this Nagisa, I promise." The red head replied without thinking, "And what about us?" she asked. Shizuma's tone remained level, her voice as composed as it could be, her eyes unfaltering in their sentiment, "Do we need fixing, Nagisa?" she said softly, her subtext plain and clear. For a moment the red head remained silent, the flustered upperclassman slowly parsing her lips. But then, after an age of twisting within her self-imposed maze, the red head finally crawled from the other side. She'd returned from Emmie's determined to cope, determined to be a better person, yet here she was wallowing in self-pity and reproach. Shizuma had poured her heart out, had all but begged her for forgiveness as she'd explained her earlier mistakes, her fiancée honest about her feelings and her own future needs. She was asking no more from Nagisa than the red head would have to ask in return if she were also to correct things with Tamao, and faced with the plain reality of their situation, Nagisa could in no way deny that. After everything the couple had gone through, after all the promises Nagisa had made to herself during the ride back to campus, was she really going to falter so quickly? Was she really going to let herself fail? She looked long and hard into the emerald orbs staring down at her. No matter what she may have done in the past, no matter what the mistakes the Hanazono girl might have made when she was younger or alone, Nagisa was certain that she loved this woman, and loved her like nothing else. "No Shizuma," she whispered back finally, "no, no we don't." With a resigned sigh she took the waiting fingers, the red head looking wistful as she gently squeezed the Miatorian's hand. "Tonight has been so..." She trailed off, unsure of what she'd meant when she'd started. The shadows falling away, Shizuma considered the young woman before her, the red head glancing up hopefully from beneath her messily destyled fringe. "Take me to bed Shizuma," she continued, "take me somewhere and hold me again." And with a tender smile the former-Etoile drew her young fiancée to her, soft fingertips tracing a delicate caress across the pretty face that fell beneath their touch. - - - - - "This is ridiculous!" the raven haired girl snapped back, her gathered companions still straining to hear despite the group being huddled so closely together in the Hall-side passageway. The unfamiliar corridor, usually an access route for the utility staff, now served as a meeting place sheltered away from the relentless clamour of the celebratory atmosphere nearby. Things were far beyond controlled at this stage, and despite Hitomi and Mizuho having parted ways a considerable time beforehand, the music had yet to stop as neither girl had secured an effective cessation. With her pretty black hair curling in a tight crop around her face, the speaking fifth year's startling blue eyes flashed in tandem with her subtle sapphire ear rings, the upperclassman's bubbling annoyance displayed plainly in the former. A tiny thing, Reiko Kuroda did more than make up for her lack of physical stature with her impressive social aura, the ascending fifth year's breeding and intellect second to none, even if her occasionally boyish mannerisms at times betrayed her. Resplendent in a long, flowing cream dress, the council-nominee had soon established herself when it began apparent the evening needed salvaging in light of such notable absences. Amongst the crowd gathered around her, Mizuho was present and brushed her own falling black strands back behind her ear as she leant in further to make her reply better heard, "I don't know what you want me to say Kuroda-san; she's gone, what am I supposed to do?" Her voice was vexed, the sixth year's patience obviously straining its otherwise more than capable leash, Mizuho unaccustomed to her current solitude or at having to answer directly for her otherwise methodical and flawless superior. Miyuki's disappearance was fast becoming an issue, and with neither Etoile available to fulfil their given role either, the night was fast beginning to unravel. Doing her best to contribute constructively, one of the younger council members then chipped her own offering into the pile. "I heard one of the first year's say she'd seen the lights in the Sister's lodge come on. When were we supposed to have finished Kanou-sama?" she inquired fretfully. Reiko cut in, snapping back her anger, "An hour ago Takakura-san," she spat, and then returning to Mizuho directly, she vented the remainder of her frustration, "I'm sick to the back teeth of this; we went through it long enough with Shizuma as it was. What does Miyuki think she's playing at?" Tensions running high, Mizuho then snapped her own response before the berated sixth year could catch herself. "Why is it my problem all of a sudden? What do you expect me to do, magic her out of thin air?" The barrage was uncharacteristic for the usually reserved sixth year and much more typical of her gutsier childhood companion, the gathered girls taken aback accordingly by the reply. All of them that was, apart from the Kuroda girl, who seemed more than happy to osmose the frustrations as fuel for her own returning rhetoric. Having spent the past fortnight firmly at odds with the dictatorial Miatorian council President, the last thing Mizuho wanted now was to be positioned as Miyuki's keeper, something the furious Presidential nominee before her seemed more than ready to do. "Don't you dare," Reiko continued, "I know damn well you saw this bullshit coming. I've seen the looks you've been trading with your kinder garden pal in Council." The Kuroda girl's foul language and well renowned temper having finally fully expressed themselves, Mizuho waved her hand dismissively, the action only prompting further vicious gnashing, the younger girl's displeasure immediately riled by the perceived arrogance of the gesture, "And what exactly is that supposed to mean?" she snarled, "Don't give me that 'it's not my problem, I couldn't care less' act." She jabbed her finger accusingly, "You've been in on this whole Ball thing ever since it started. If you knew something was going on behind the scenes you should have told us beforehand. She turned tonight into a complete and utter farce... The Founding School President doting over the Astrea slut in front of every Dormitory resident on campus? She's embarrassed everyone!" Mizuho snarled her agitation, the young woman's anger flared by the mouthy upstart's cold derision of her long term Miatorian companion, "I had no idea what she was planning thank you very much, and even if I had known what she was up to, I certainly wouldn't have come to you with it," She gestured again to signal her end to the subject, "Just as anyone else here would have, I'd have told Hanazono-sama and let her deal with it just as effectively as she did tonight," she finished. Although arguably, Mizuho thought to herself, in a completely unnecessary manner. She'd stood mere feet from the couple as the former-Etoile had drilled the council President's pride into the floor, and despite resenting the very sight of the Rokujo girl these last few days, even Mizuho had to admit that Shizuma's words were harsh. On the balcony, in front of everyone... Reiko's firm tongue snapped the older council assistant back from her thoughts, "Well why the hell is the music still playing anyway? I thought you'd said you'd sent Hitomi to fix it." Mizuho could only glance up with a blank expression on her face, the persistence of the Hanazono score then suddenly dawning upon her in the absence of further hostilities. "That's... a, good poi-" she began, but before she could finish, a shrill voice from behind her cut the words away, "Tougi-san! Tougi-san!" a second year was calling, the youngster rushing down the corridor, struggling as she grasped the crumpled trail of her expensive ruby ball gown to her side, "The Sisters are here Tougi-san, Sister Mizue has arrived!" she cried. Consequence dawning like a twenty tonne hammer from the heavens, frank vulgarity escaped even Mizuho Kanou's otherwise ladylike lips in reply. - - - - - With a dull snap from its stubborn plastic switch, Shizuma flicked the table lamp off, the Dormitory plunging into darkness as she recoiled away from her precarious position stretched out toward the edge of her writing desk. The mattress jostled briefly as she shuffled back beneath the covers, her still-soggy silver mane pushed above the sheets as she curled closely behind the naked fourth year. Their shower had been brief but refreshing, Nagisa stressing her preference to turn in given the early start for student dismissal, the red head still quiet and thoughtful, but once again accepting and tender nonetheless. Whatever still played on her mind, she seemed unlikely to share it, although Shizuma was happy to let the matter slide as perhaps something to deal with during the winter break. So with little but the dull boom of the party music playing far in the distance to shoo the gathering still, the Dormitory fell silent, the girls huddled together in the dark. - - - - - "No Sister," the red head was saying, her plum fringe sheltering most of her face from the rest of the crowd at the front hallway entrance, the sixth year nodding as she did her best to paper the cracks. Mizuho approached the group in hesitation, aware that the others had followed behind her, but still too unsure of events prior to her arrival to step into the breach unless it was to rescue her beleaguered council colleague. The Ball was an hour overrun however, and the Hall looked like a Shimokitazawa market bar. There would be hell to pay surely. But drawing closer to the intimidating group of adults gathered around the Head Administrator as she questioned the submissive council senior, Mizuho could only blanch at the words she heard falling from her dear friends mouth, "No Sister," she was saying, "they were predisposed with a disciplinary situation that required them at the Dormitories. President Rokujo was aiding them, and so I took charge of the situation here. I was midway through calling an end to the festivities, with Minamoto-sama's courteous assistance of course," she finished, nodding politely toward the Lulim President standing off to one side. Mizuho's jaw dropped, her wide brown eyes catching Hitomi's with a bewildered 'what in god's name are you doing?' look. But the other girl forcibly blanked her, and Mizuho knew better than to interrupt and blemish her friend's creditability any further, something which would almost certainly dig their collective hole several few feet deeper than it already was. But regardless, what was she doing? she repeated mentally. This whole affair was Miyuki's problem, or at least the Etoile's before it became hers. Why was Hitomi taking the rap? The Sister was halfway through replying when the noise from within the Hall drowned the conversation out, only dropping soon enough afterward for the dark haired senior catch the tail end of Mizue's statement, "...after which you are to cease the music promptly and usher the girls home. Regardless of your administrator's unscheduled delegation, you still have no excuses in this matter. I expect our council members to take their responsibilities seriously under any circumstance, expected or not." Hitomi bowed again, her face subservient and apologetic, "Yes Sister, we'll clear the Hall immediately," she said. Mizue dismissed the upperclassman with a prompt nod, motioning to her colleagues before the group of unsettling ascetics then strode off in separate directions, their co-ordination eerie in its wordlessness and their sweeping black gowns sucking the air behind them. Watching their overseers disperse, Mizuho approached her former-roommate in confusion, "Tou-" she began, but Hitomi's slate-grey eyes quickly silenced her. "She was wrong Mizi," the red head declared, repeating the words again for effect, "completely wrong." And left to chew on the meaning of that bizarre statement alone, Mizuho watched as her former-roommate hurried off to fulfil her charge. - - - - - "Shizuma," The word drew the sixth year from her subconscious, the sixth year's mind still tentatively buoyant on the drifting surface of awareness. "Hmm?" she murmured, her head rolling back across the pillow toward her girlfriend, her eyes sliding open in the dark. Nagisa remained huddled beside her, the fourth year facing away, but still wrapped around the older girl's left arm. "I..." But the red head failed to continue, and Shizuma's brow furrowed delicately in concern. Drawing a gentle breath, her chest shifting beneath the covers, the sixth year traced a gentle path across Nagisa's bare back, her fingertips pushing wayward auburn curls from the red head's creamy skin. "Nagisa?" she questioned softly. But the red head remained still, her breathing shallow and drawn. A moment passed, until eventually the young Etoile stirred, the fourth year reaching back to pull the silver haired girl's free arm around her shoulder. "No," she whispered, "no it's okay. It's nothing," she said. Leaning closer in toward the red head's fragrant hair, Shizuma closed her eyes as she squeezed the red head's slender figure, drawing the fourth year's torso against her chest, feeling the soft linen of the bed sheet slide across their skin. "Hold me Shizuma," Nagisa mumbled, her arm spooning across Shizuma's to pull the embrace tighter still. "I already am silly," the older girl replied, fond eyes searching the dark as she felt the warmth between them spread. They lay there for a while, the rise and fall of their breathing slowly falling into sync, Shizuma unaware of the gathering moisture in Nagisa's tired eyes or the private, nagging guilt that had beckoned them there. Biting her lip to stop the tears from brimming, Nagisa suddenly craned her neck, her voice wistful and soft as she turned half way back until she could see her fiancée's face, "Kiss me Shizuma-sama..." she breathed. - - - - - The Lulim second years tumbled out into the cold air, Kizuna almost dragging her companion to the deck as Remon struggled to keep her semi-conscious roomie upright and afoot. She grappled the brunette awkwardly until she'd wrapped Kizuna's right arm around the back of her neck, shuffling the slender figure until she'd gained a good grip on her classmate's waist, her grasping fingers clawing the beige fabric of Kizuna's dress into a taut handhold, the strain very nearly ripping the seams. She'd found Kizuna asleep beneath one of the stage side tables after uncharacteristically nipping to the loo alone, and now, under much duress given her own exhaustion, was doing her utmost best to get the weary second year back to their room. Stumbling clumsily down the sweeping entrance steps, the second years came to a halt at the bottom, Remon glancing back over the rim of her glasses as she waited for her mentor to reappear, failing to hide a sideways smirk as her roomie muttered half a line from one of the closing songs beneath her breath. "Do a li'l..." she murmured to herself, wiggling her rear-end half heartedly before drifting back toward slumber, the second year's consciousness subsiding shortly thereafter. Watching the main door as she waited for her council President to reappear, Remon's burgundy eyes twinkled with mischievous potential. Chikaru soon emerged into the chill night air, the council senior nodding respectfully to the senior Sister behind her as the old woman shooed a further number of girls out in the direction of the Dormitory building ahead. Returning Chikaru's gesture with a curt nod of appreciation, Mizue then disappeared back into the intimidating doorway, the slight form of Chikaru's first year assistant slipping past her quietly as the old woman returned to the Hall. Smiling briefly at the mousey brunette as she took the waiting upperclassman's arm, Chikaru then considered the state of the beleaguered students staggering past her. Dishevelled dresses sheltered clammy bodies from the cold air, messy hair hiding glazed eyes and tired smiles. Things had definitely gotten out of hand, Chikaru thought to herself, and on more than one occasion the fifth year had suspected the possibility of alcohol at play, meaning the definite expectation of further inquisition come morning, especially when the girls' parents arrived to collect their less than presentable daughters. But despite the misbehaviour and the unruliness that came with it, a subject Chikaru was immediately reminded of as a chant and cheer echoed from somewhere further ahead on the poorly lit path back to the Dorms, the council President had to admit that the night had been a total and utter success. Never before had she seen such happy smiles or received such appreciative praise as she'd help man the exit, the girls on their way out squeezing her hand or giving exaggerated curtseys as they passed the council senior. The Dormitory residents had obviously needed this final, somewhat extended release before calling an end to the term. Perhaps the extent to which matters had stepped out of hand only reflected the turbulence of the season, perhaps the degree the girls had let themselves go by only showcased the heavy chain of events they'd been party to this year. Whichever way, the evening had presented a most definite of watersheds for the school, the likes of which Chikaru struggled to imagine ever seeing again, particularly since Mizue would no doubt make the matter a personal charge... A tiny voice from beside the Lulim senior pulled Chikaru back from her private deliberation, "Chikaru-senpai? Shouldn't we follow the others?" the first year had asked, her huge green eyes swimming in the emerging moonlight as she stared up at her taller companion. The council President smiled pleasantly, patting the little one's arm, "Yes indeed Kagome," she replied, glancing ahead at Remon and Kizuna who were already on their precarious return journey. The first year smiled back, drawing her newly acquired cardigan tighter around her shoulder as the pair descended the stone stairway, Chikaru's kimono swishing softly as the hem brushed each of the steps on the way down. Waiting a little longer before speaking up again, Kagome found herself questioning the senior further. "Was Chikaru-senpai thinking about something?" she asked, prompting the senior to share. "I was Kagome-chan," she said, dipping her crown toward the youngster at her side, "I was considering how much things have changed this year." The first year trotted along quietly, Kagome holding her tongue in case her mentor opted to continue. After short consideration, Chikaru did just that, "I was wondering how these girls tonight will remember Hanazono-sama and Aoi-sama in the future, how they'll look back on this term." "Chikaru-senpai?" Kagome seemed confused, unsure of why the students might look differently just because time had passed by; surely the former-Etoile and Etoile-onee-sama would be popular no matter how old they got? Chikaru explained, "The girls this year are so fond of them both now; I wonder if they realise how much their actions have changed things? I wonder if this year group will remember them the same way when they're older." The thoughtful junior pondered the question from amongst her mousey brown ringlets, the companions falling silent momentarily as they walked. "Does Chikaru-senpai not approve of Hanazono-sama and Etoile-onee-sama?" the first year eventually asked. The gentle council senior chuckled softly, glancing again at the eloquently dressed underclassman on her arm. "Approve of what Kagome-chan?" she asked, hoping for a glimpse into the junior's otherwise obscured mind by way of her reply. But the underclassman fell silent, not sure how to explain that thing she found herself instinctively aware of between the two Miatorian girls, that special bond that was different in ways she just couldn't put words to, but knew for certain to be there. Consternation spread across the first year's pretty face as she found herself struggling to quantify the comparison to other notable student friendships. Chikaru smiled again, squeezing the little one's hand reassuringly. "Not something to worry yourself over Kagome-chan," she whispered, smiling again before straightening up as they continued their walk home. And for a while they enjoyed the silence, the chilling wind prompting Kagome to grip her mentor's arm closer, the folds of Chikaru's kimono providing a welcome shelter from the gathering elements, although doing nothing to remove the dull fuzziness from her ears, the sensation water-like and persisting ever since the music had finished. Passing a discarded set of heels, Chikaru found herself sighing in frustration. "Did Chikaru-senpai find Rokujo-sama?" the little one asked, noting the senior's troubled face and hoping to distract her. But the council President's expression only dropped further, the fifth year turning her furrowed brow back to the underclassman, "No, no I didn't Kagome-chan," she said, "I'm presuming she's made herself difficult to find." The youngster replied with a downbeat 'Oh' before returning to her own private thoughts, disappointed at herself for making the pretty fifth year feel worse. Chikaru glanced back toward the Hall, considering whether or not to head back and check for the sixth year once again, the missing Etoile and Miyuki's own and most notable absence two of the main reasons for her delayed departure. But with the Sisters themselves having intervened in the closure of festivities, it would be unlikely that Chikaru would be re-admitted to the Hall without further awkward questions, and thus far it seemed everyone present tonight had done their best to sidestep the absence of the organizational team; Hitomi in particular had seemed to be doing as much as possible to claim responsibility when the Lulim President had joined the group gathered around the Sisters before the music had stopped, the extent to which only confused the curious Geisha further. Indeed, there would be many, many questions come morning, and not all of them those of Sister Mizue and the school staff. - - - - - The two girls twisted in the darkness, a soft, smothering veil enveloping them, their searing skin pressed against one another, their bodies exposed amongst the jumbled mess of the Dormitory bed sheets. Nagisa sat atop her lover, the fourth year holding her partner's wrists, trapping them against the bed as she rolled her hips across the older girl's thigh. Shizuma lay beneath, the sixth year lost within herself, her silver hair splayed across the linen and her eyes hung half-closed in delicious submission, the former-Etoile relishing the sensation as an uncharacteristically demanding Nagisa clawed desperately for the release she sought. But the red head was quietly struggling, her slender back snaking repeatedly as she rocked her hips again and again, her subconscious betraying her as the evening's doubts and concerns still nagged away at the back of her mind. Frustration mounting, the red head slipped backwards with a sullen whimper, the red head pulling at Shizuma's arms as she collapsed into the bed sheets, the younger girl's eyes pleading and wide. Shizuma sat upright, her emerald orbs sparkling as they crossed the girl before her, Shizuma's manner that of a playful kitten considering its waiting ball of string. With a sly curl to the corner of her lips, the former-Etoile slipped forward on her hands and knees, the exquisite tease sliding one arm between the pillow and Nagisa's slender neck, her free hand reaching down to wrap the fourth year's thigh across her own before slowly closing the gap between them. Waiting a moment for the expectation to build, she then gradually, tentatively, began to work her hips in deep, rich circles, the upperclassman cupping the back of Nagisa's head, her fingers entwined in the fourth year's matted hair, a gentle smile on her lips as she stared directly into her lover's deep brown eyes. And as those yawning emerald pools slowly consumed her, Nagisa reached tender arms to curl around Shizuma's neck, the red head increasingly at ease as the strength of emotion written in her girlfriend's gaze gradually reassured her, the messages running between them sweeping aside those earlier images from the balcony, banishing the undermining insecurity and rattling uncertainty from before. Filled with a returning sense of peace, a shiver raced across the red head's skin as once again, that agonizingly close instant of release crept back within her grasp. As she sensed the change within her lover, Shizuma's lips curled further still, her motions slowing their tempo whilst gathering in pressure, the sensation they caused her lover unrelenting and rhythmic, her emerald eyes betraying her own pleasure as they maintained their commanding control of Nagisa's field of focus; something Shizuma had always done when the girls made love, the very same trick that Nagisa had turned against her teacher earlier on in the evening. And with her face gradually flushing, Nagisa's tiny form tensed as she found herself reaching further and further for each progressive breath, her heart rocked by each pounding beat that pulled the elusive feeling closer until, with an all consuming rush, her orgasm finally took her, the young girl's back arching as she felt her muscles tense involuntarily. She tipped her head back, her brown eyes rolling closed and her lips cracking apart, the Aoi girl feeling Shizuma's arm pull her closer in as the other girl's hips ground deeper and slower against hers. And for a brief moment it seemed as though the world around them was still, their bodies moving but stationary, the seconds inconsequential and meaningless, the distractions around them sliding away. Here, wrapped in her lover's arms, cocooned in their safety and security, here the young Etoile was certain once more. Lying beside this wonderful woman, this alluring stranger that had walked into her life and singled her out for a bond so enduring and unique that she could no longer imagine her life without it, here, she would forever remain whole. She wanted the moment to last, prayed the doubts would never return, wishing the couple so far unreachable that the world and its preying eyes could never come between them again. And for that brief, fleeting moment, Nagisa was complete. - - - - - Kaname grinned, the fifth year wearing a lopsided smile as she plodded wearily down the entrance hall steps, the ache in her black-clad figure betraying both the long afternoon at the stables and the unexpectedly turbulent evening that had followed it. "Well I didn't expect the old bat to show up at the end," she said, "I had no idea it had gotten that late." Grinning evilly, she made a further addition that came complimented with a sizable serving of vindictive bemusement, "Miyuki'll be for the high jump tomorrow." Amane stopped above her on the top step, the show jumper stretching in a less than infeminant manner given her smouldering attire, the fifth year rolling her neck to ease her tired shoulders. Ruffling her hair back into a more familiarly disorganized mess, she pondered the distance back to the Dormitories with a weary sigh, pulling her oversized Spican overcoat even tighter around herself. "Don't be so evil Kaname," she murmured absent-mindedly, continuing down the stairs to join her companion at the bottom. The evening had been a strange one, of that there was no doubt, but having witnessed the obscure transgression between the Miatorian trio just prior to the entertainment proper, Amane had found herself distracted enough for the earlier evening's events to slip from her mind, giving the otherwise embattled fifth year the opportunity to somehow relax enough to begin to enjoy herself. She'd even managed to dance, she mused, albeit only for a brief while. What Kaname must have made of that she had no idea. Faced however with the youthful glee of the youngsters she'd been roped into helping eject towards the end, matters with Amane's own notable other had soon sprung back to mind. Hikari's face from the Dormitory, after all, had been anything but the picture of happiness she'd been greeted with as the older pair had escorted the youngsters out towards the manned exits, the most unfortunate of look-a-likes from one of the junior classes having doppleganged Hikari's image back into her mind after numerous others had come close to doing so already. After that, Amane had understandably fallen back in on herself rather quickly. "Oi!" the tennis star snapped, rapping her fellow Spican in the ribs. "Snap out of it eh?" she jibed, noting the sullen tone and the extended silence that had followed it, "there's no way I'm carrying your sorry ass back to the Dorms, no matter how much those heels might be hurting you." Sarcasm flashed in her coal black eyes, and once again Kaname did her best to keep the former-Etoile's emotional vessel afloat. Despite the severity of the afternoon's events, the young woman had somehow managed to do a reasonable job so far. But the horse rider could only manage a half-smile this time, the fifth year sighing as she shook her head, Amane glancing back toward her dark haired companion walking beside her. As funny as the image of Spican's self-appointed Queen struggling back home with the Prince's unwieldy weight in her arms might be, Amane couldn't shake the feeling that Hikari had already seen enough as it was, the Kenjo girl carrying her home only making a proverbial layer of icing to add to the cake. "I can see that one going down well Kenjo-san," she muttered as she subconsciously vocalised the point, "perhaps there's been enough damage done for one night eh?" Twinkling black slits sparkled with mischief, and the council girl grappled to tone a convoluted and unashamedly playful reply, the effort only cut short by Amane's blunt dismissal, "Leave it Kaname," she breathed wearily, her scrutinizing gaze having caught the other girl's intent. Kaname fell quickly silent; her mood sinking like a lead balloon, the dark haired troublemaker once again skirting Amane's earlier evening fragility. "Yeah, well..." the tennis star muttered, looking away in a distracted feint. Amane loosed a hushed tut as she glanced away herself, the fifth year as much frustrated by Kaname's relentlessness as she was by her own brooding. Why she felt so suddenly premenstrual about the whole situation she was completely unsure, the evening's events with the blonde third year having otherwise remained strangely detached since she'd witnessed Nagisa's territorial display atop the Grand Hall stage. There was something... notable, in the way that it had left her mindset after. A sudden spark of nonchalance perhaps that quickly reminded Amane of the huge expanse between her own relationship with Hikari and the almost unbreakable bond between the Miatorians, their contrasting position on the sliding scale of conviction and plausibility soon allowing matters with the third year to quietly slip away in the presence of such an inescapably infectious atmosphere. And Shizuma, my god, what were you up to tonight? she pondered. Nothing stupid and damaging she hoped. A trip to the Hanazono Dormitory once discharge was complete was most definitely in order. Amane sighed again, tiredness overwhelming her as she let the considerations slip. Tomorrow would mean an early start and yet another extended period of upheaval and intrusion with the arrival of so many eager-to-ask adults who would undoubtedly ply her for advice on furthering their own child's equestrian career, an experience she would almost certainly be required to suffer by the Spican staff. Although not, it seemed, by her still sullen school council President, Shion having failed to recover from her earlier ordeal at the hands of the Nanto girl, her appearance at the Ball both fleeting and distracted. What would become of President Tomori, Amane briefly wondered, not that it appeared anyone actually cared anymore. Kaname, the council assistant having remained silent until now, then disrupted the other girl's musings, "The redeye bus doesn't run for an hour or two Ohtori-san. If you don't mind me catching a quick shower first, I'll grab my stuff as soon as we're back to your room so I can be out of your way." She tipped her head in admission, "You must be tired; you don't need me disturbing your sleep." The defeat in her voice sounded uncharacteristically genuine; it was as though the dark haired girl had somehow resigned herself to something during the still. Amane looked across at the Kenjo woman with a baffled frown, "Why would you do that?" she asked blankly, the black clad figure unreadable, "I said you could stay until the morning." And as Kaname failed to reply, the tomboy beside was left waiting for an explanation that was never to arrive. - - - - - Seething brown eyes watched as the lofty couple neared the building's ornate front entrance, the Spican duo remaining in their seemingly cosy state at a distance, the onlooker considering them now having caught none of the conversation on the walk back. Momomi had tailed the women for almost the entire day, the brunette only breaking occasionally to suffer brief moments of harrowing weakness when she'd caught herself nearly fleeing the school building in a flood of tears, her heart betraying its fragile sub-shadow as she'd watched the two school stars pass the time by. Particularly difficult had been their short excursion onto the dance floor, the women looking unsettlingly comfortable as the enamoured juniors around them had swooned at their presence and grace. 'How dare she?' the brunette raged, 'How dare she in front of everyone like that?' Not only had Kaname jilted her so publicly, but now she was doing her utmost best to broadcast her new relationship to the world. Despite three years together, three years, that fucking bitch had never once been so vocal about their feelings for one another. Never once had she held her in public the same way she'd held Amane tonight. The shadowy figure shuddered with anger, her fist clenched to her lips, her eyes welling once more. 'That snide, ungrateful, uncaring fucking bitch!' But the torrent wouldn't wash itself out, no matter how hard her insides raged, and the fifth year found herself simply unable to reach the calm she sought. She'd repay the bitch, tenfold or more, no matter how far she had to go to do so. Long before she could ever celebrate her comfortable new life, Kaname Kenjo would pay. Stopping short of the Dormitory drive, Momomi paused beside the bushes, waiting as her point of focus climbed the sweeping steps into the Dormitory doorway proper, watching as the girls disappeared into the dim entrance hall beyond. They would no doubt share that snivelling sheboy's room tonight, she thought, scowling again in fury. Perhaps she should just burn the floor down and save herself the trouble later... Biting back the bitterness, she shook her head as she stepped out into the dim glow of the pathway lights. This was all too much tonight, too much for even Momomi to cope with. Raising a clammy palm to the side of her head, she rubbed her pounding temple. 'I need to sleep, I need this out of my head' she continued. It was only half way up the stairs that her idle gaze caught the silhouette huddled on the edge of the far step, the figure holding its knees before her. Approaching out of curiosity, the Kiyashiki girl watched as the image took form, the youngster's chin resting on her knees, her hand tucked beneath with her fingers curled against her lips for comfort. She was holding herself, a troubled look in her eyes and her long, twisting pink hair framing her sloping shoulders. "Okuwaka-kun, what are you doing out here?" the fifth year demanded, her voice regaining its air of superiority. The first year stirred only slightly, her gaze shifting to her flank, just far enough to register the council assistant in her peripheral vision. She was intent on her distraction it seemed. "Waiting," she mumbled, the statement aloof and confusing. "There's no one else left at the Hall," the fifth year replied, her attention slipping elsewhere, "go back to your Dormitory." As she turned away, she expected some form of acceptance to echo across her shoulder, but when none came she snapped back to the junior, adding with cold derision, "Go inside Okuwaka-kun, you'll make yourself ill and I won't be held responsible when your parents arrive tomorrow." But the youngster remained unmoving, and unwilling to waste further time on the hapless junior, Momomi flicked a gesture of dismissive irritation as she wheeled back toward the Dorms, content to leave the ridiculous child to the bellowing winds and gathering rain. Curling the tips of her pink hair once more around her frozen fingers, Tsubomi felt a salty tear wash its chill path down across her cheek.
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