Hikari shivered, the cold winter air racing the vault-like interior of Ginji's leather jacket, chilling her arms with an icy kiss despite the tiny third year having wrapped the garment as tightly round her slight frame as she could. Catching the look of discomfort flashing briefly across her roommate's face, Yaya drew the pretty blonde closer against her as they followed the path to the lockup, the Okimoto girl finding herself once again distracted with the lacy details on the front of her fellow runaway's dress. "Yaya-chan..." Hikari breathed, blushing slightly as she tried to shoo the third year's wayward hand away. She shot a watchful glance in the direction of the Senmatsu man lumbering along beside them, Ginji lost in thought and seemingly oblivious to Yaya's attentions. But spurred on by Hikari's bashfulness, Yaya found her mischievous demons urging further capitalisation. Grinning playfully, she nuzzled into the curve of Hikari's shoulder and whispered quietly in reply. "You look just like a blonde Rika Ishikawa," she teased, still fiddling with the corset bindings that kept the black bodice of Hikari's new outfit taut, "I'll have to stay on my guard or the Charmy army will come to steal you away." Blushing an even deeper shade of red, Hikari batted Yaya's fingers from her tummy and glared meaningfully at her companion, "Yaya-chan!" she repeated, pouting her displeasure as she hid beneath her fringe. Ginji glanced across from his place of distraction, the young musician stirred by the shorter girl's guarded exclamation. Catching Hikari's besieged body language, he soon realised his childhood friend was once again up to no good. Shaking his head wryly, the big man couldn't help but crack a smile. "Is she bothering you again young miss?" he asked in amusement. "I'd offer to ground her for you, but I can't see her taking me seriously after all this time..." Yaya pouted in response, screwing her nose up as she flashed playful eyes in return. "I'd like to see you try, I'm not six years old anymore." Planting her chin defiantly, Yaya poked her tongue at the dreadlocked guitarist for good measure, her fellow Sanyian rolling his eyes at the rebellious front before turning back to his thoughts in bemusement. It was only then that Yaya's hand slipped from Hikari's person as had been requested. The trio were following a gravel service path that flanked the slower Kodama and Zairaisen train lines on their way into Sanya mechanical yard, the wide congregation of rusting rails sheltered amongst a sweeping concrete gulley that funnelled the cold air around them during their brief but exposed trip. With the walls of the gulley gradually closing in and the long steel tracks beginning to merge, the width of the underpass narrowed around them the closer they came to the train yard's entrance. Soon, with the companions having navigated the majority of the short trip between Ginji's apartment and the train yard itself, the looming steel bridge the girls had crossed the night before came into view. Ginji had also brought them this way the previous evening, but in the night time gloom and the total absence of street illumination, the other two had been unable to discern much of their surroundings at all, let alone orientate themselves relative to the rest of Sanya. He brought them this way now, not only because it was the shortest route to the lock up, but also in the hope that the rarely used shortcut might also avoid as many of the loosely lipped locals as possible, given the girls' current state of elopement. Ginji remained one of the few people he knew to use this route on foot, and it wasn't as though they need fear being eyeballed from the passing train carriages either; the only locomotives to pass this way were those taking empty compartments back to the yard for work or for storage. It presented an ideal opportunity to exercise some discretion given the girls had spent the previous day wandering around in everyone's faces. Hopefully if they laid low for the rest of their stay, memory of the out of place teenagers would quickly pass. And even though the police were unlikely to come looking within Sanya, it didn't hurt to take precautions just in case they did... Looking up from her roommate beside her, Yaya spotted the bridge and realised they were almost at their destination, knowing immediately that the Namidabashi crossings would lie off to her left somewhere. She also cringed at the thought of the much less savoury scenery lying only a few yards away on the same side of the gulley. Thanking her lucky stars for the winter's early sunset, Yaya glimpsed the top of Sanya's long preserved punitive burial mound through the chain link on the far side of the bridge, something she was relieved Hikari had missed in the darkness when they'd crossed toward her father's apartment the previous evening. The once-Etoile had been skittish enough as it was without having to consider the long rows of eerie medieval tombstones during their journey too. Compelled to raise a related topic of conversation, Yaya had opened her mouth to speak when the young man cut in over her, Ginji having decided to build on his brief but promising exchange with Yaya's companion before the group had left the apartment. "So is this your first time in Tokyo Miss Konohana?" he asked, continuing the overly proper, yet oddly endearing formality of the school girl's earlier introduction. The tiny blonde seemed briefly preoccupied for a second, the gravel crunching under their feet dominating until she stammered her reply somewhat nervously toward the guitarist, "Uh, no, but um..." He grinned, guessing the source of her unease, and Ginji finished her polite attempt at political correctness for her, "...but it's the first time you've seen the bits as rough as this?" He chuckled heartily as he did, "Don't worry, I'd much rather be someplace else too," he offered, "it's hardly the Tokyo Hilton round here." Whilst obviously relieved, Hikari's faced retained the warm flush of further embarrassment. She'd not wanted to be derogatory about the area her host lived in, even if her entire experience of it so far had been utterly terrifying. "It ain't getting any better either," Ginji continued with a wry look, "Why the rich kids seem so eager to move down here is beyond me." Feeling Yaya's reassuring gaze in the corner of her vision, Hikari piped up timidly, "Has Ginji-san always lived in Sanya?" she asked. Ginji's jaw-line protruded briefly, the big man scratching at his shadowy stubble in thought. Glancing back sideways as he came to a decision, he opted to disclose something he'd previously debated sharing when Yaya and Hikari had first shown up. "For the most part... though there was a short time after Yaya left when I travelled around trying to find her." He glanced across at his dark haired friend, Yaya now listening intently having had no idea her childhood companion had come looking for her. "I made it as far as Osaka in the end. A girlfriend of mine was working as a clerk at the council offices at the time; she snuck a look at your file after the welfare took you." Yaya blanched, "You came after me? When? Where did you look? I was in Osaka for ages before the court order went through..." The big man shrugged dismissively as he walked, "The trail went cold after that short stay place in Kawanishi. Had I known you'd been sent to Kyoto after, I might have kept looking ..." He sighed regretfully. "Anyways, the friend I was crashing with there had to move on, so I ended up coming back here. As much of a shit hole as it is, Sanya is my home. It weren't long after that I hooked up with the guys you saw last night. We've been pretty tight since." Yaya reached a gentle hand for the guitarist, ignoring the trailing attempt at changing topics. Saddened by returning memories of the past, she too sighed, the young Astrean remembering with vivid clarity her brief experience of state care; the unease of being relocated somewhere unfamiliar and the many afternoons she'd passed in seclusion, avoiding the other children and privately daydreaming that her dearly missed friend was about to come get her. Watching the exchange and the falling look on Yaya's face, Hikari mumbled something quietly off to one side. Having caught the comment, but not the words themselves, Yaya turned back to the blonde, craning for a repeat. "Hikari?" she asked. The Konohana girl's blue eyes swam as she looked up at her roommate. "I had no idea all these horrible things had happened to Yaya-chan... or that she'd had to leave someone so dear behind." Her gaze fell back toward the passing gravel as she finished, the third year oddly evasive when Yaya squeezed her hand appreciatively. While the once-Etoile remained thoroughly perturbed by the whole upheaval of Yaya's newly revealed past, it wasn't the continued shock of the unfurling story that drew Hikari's eyes from her doting roommate's this time, it was the small voice buried deep inside that now forcibly reminded her of how sad the other choir girl had been each time Hikari had mentioned Amane Ohtori's name, and of how hard Yaya had tried to hide it despite the obvious pain it caused her. Ginji hadn't been the only person Yaya had found herself separated from at the choice of others after all. "I'm not sure I would've known what to do if I had found her Miss Konohana," the big man was saying somewhere parallel to the tiny blonde's awareness, "I could hardly look after myself at that point as it was, let alone Yaya too." He glanced at the taller Astrean. "Although I ain't gonna pretend it wasn't lonely without you, it's not like living the way you were was doing you any good either," he added in a gruff tone. Yaya dismissed the big man's self-disdain with a stern look, Hikari's comment quickly forgotten in her need to defend her once unconventional custodian. "You did a better job looking after me when I was here than any of those idiots in Kyoto ever have. The only person keeping an eye on me there is the Dormitory Sister, and that's only because I end up in her office all the time." Yaya poked her childhood friend's huge bicep to stress her point, "I never once went to school without a full lunch box or a clean set of clothes to wear. Sure, you can't iron for shit but at least you tried, so you can stop with the self-defeating bullshit straight away. My so-called adoptive mother hardly even manages that much without paying someone to do it for her, let alone doing my homework with me the way you used to." Having made her disenchantment perfectly clear, Yaya prodded her friend again, this time less forcefully as her brow softened and her dark eyes sparkled fondly, "Besides, I'm here now, it's not like you can rid of me now I know where you live." She beamed happily at their reunion. Ginji chewed on his bemusement as he returned the fond smile, ruffling Yaya's hair to repeated protest. Eager to move the awkward subject along as well, he returned the original question back toward its issuer, motioning the youngsters toward the gulley side as he did. The concrete wall had started decreasing in height several yards back with the train tracks finally reaching the wide expanse of the yard itself. Off to their right, the long row of tin-roofed lockups were now visible. "So what about you Miss Konohana?" he asked as they crossed several disused parking rails on their way toward the rentable area. "Do you travel much yourself?" Hikari remained quiet, but her internal cauldron went unnoticed as Yaya piped up in reply, her tone edging on condescending as she related her roommate's privileged lifestyle. "Oh she's been out of the country more times than your Chinese friend will have changed his underpants," she bragged. "Her parents take her and the butler to Hawaii every summer break, and she's away for most of the winter to avoid the cold too." The dark haired girl flicked her wrist casually, "You know the hardships these second tier girls face." Ginji frowned, unsure how much was sarcastic exaggeration and how much reflected the truth. "Your family keeps servants Miss Konohana?" he asked. Stirred by being questioned directly, Hikari raised her gaze again. "Um, we have a maid, and a butler," she mumbled, "and um..." Yaya cut in. "And a private tutor, a cleaner and her mother even keeps a florist and a gardener. And she hasn't mentioned the family yacht yet." Ginji choked on his laughter, the amusement somewhat half-arsed given how disturbing the stark contrast was at the same time. The Konohana girl was from an entirely different world he mused, no wonder she'd been in such a state when they'd arrived yesterday. Catching Ginji's eye, Yaya found herself receiving the same poignant look she'd been given that morning when Ginji had challenged the uncertainty she'd expressed toward her roommate. Swallowing her levity as she nodded in reply, the young woman looked down toward her evasive companion, Yaya reminded very clearly that dragging Hikari into a world such as hers would be ridiculous without either girl knowing fully what either actually meant to the other. There were questions she should be asking she knew, and undoubtedly things Hikari would need clarified in return, particularly in light of what she saw in the Cathedral. Hiding the debate behind false smiles as Hikari looked up, the absence of further uncomfortable scrutiny allowing her to lift her big blue eyes, Yaya resolved herself to the necessary evil when the opportunity finally arose. - - - - - It had been a considerable length of time since Tamao had left, the Etoile Aînée having brushed her partner's shoulder to quietly announce her exit before disappearing through the lounge door, her footsteps barely audible in the long wooden-floored corridor. With Shizuma having hardly moved in an hour, the dark haired fourth year had considered it a prudent opportunity to perhaps prepare the evening meal and give the other two some space, something Nagisa wasn't overly sure had actually helped her. Amane and Kaname had left long before that, presumably to accompany each other somewhere given their unexpected companionship earlier that morning. Kaname's face had retained its overshadowing thundercloud, and despite no one having spoken to her after Miyuki's leave of absence, the Spican council assistant had shown no signs of calming down. Whatever had passed between those two had been thoroughly unsettling it seemed. Sat on the edge of the coffee table in the centre of the sofas, Nagisa quietly regarded her sombre girlfriend, the distracted senior student sat facing the windows at the other end of the room. The former-Etoile's eyes were lost somewhere beyond the fragile glass panes, her mind unquestionably preoccupied and removed far from her worldly perceptions. Nagisa had also remained silent since Tamao's departure, her own thoughts lingering on the whispered reply that her once roommate had given her when the red head had queried the significance of Nabeshima. Sakuragi-sama's burial site. Nagisa parsed her lips, still completely unaware of how to approach the conversation now, fearful and unsure of the nature of Shizuma's preoccupation and scared that the wrong words might beckon forth the most pained of expressions from her girlfriend's pretty face. It wasn't often these days that Kaori's name was mentioned, and far less so that when it was, it conjured this sort of response from the statuesque sixth year. The difference was undermining, and Nagisa remained fearful of its consequences, quietly resenting Miyuki's words and wishing it was as simple as allocating blame there. Perhaps, her more cynical mind had told her, this was another attempt on the council President's part to secure more of the former-Etoile's time, Shizuma always having turned to her childhood companion when the subject of Sakuragi-sama arose. Yet despite Nagisa's desire to see matters as such and no matter how many times she might replay Miyuki's parting words in her head, the young Etoile had yet to find any real hint of malice or vindictiveness, just sombre resignation coupled with the tinge of a perhaps unspoken apprehension behind it. Which only meant one thing, and that had become the core reason Nagisa now found herself so apprehensive about approaching her fiancée. Biting her lip as she prepared herself for the worst, the young Etoile caved to the pressing need to reach out, knowing full well that she should have approached her girlfriend much sooner to offer her support and understanding. Cupping the cold surface of her blood red Etoile pendant for distractive comfort, Nagisa leaned forward on the table. "Shizuma?" she called, mentally determined to remain adult and mature about the fact that it had been Miyuki's words that set this off. "What's wrong Shizuma?" she repeated softly, stepping forward and moving to curl up on the floor beside her girlfriend's feet. She reached a tender hand to rest on Shizuma's black satin lap. Sad emerald eyes had turned to watch her do so, and as the older girl looked down fondly to her fiancée, Shizuma toyed with Nagisa's red locks. "I'm sorry my love," she murmured, her expression soft and wistful. Nagisa parsed her lips again, trying to conjure a look of sympathy. "Don't be silly Shizuma-sama," she said, "You don't need to apologise for being sad." Reaching for Shizuma's hand, she drew it away from her face, enclosing the cool fingers with both hands. "I'm just not sure how to help," she added. Shizuma stirred slightly, drawing a long breath as she cupped their collected hands with her other. "I'm surprised I've reacted this way, I'm usually okay." Nagisa tipped her head, her loose auburn locks falling to one side. "Tamao said that Nabeshima is where Sakuragi-sama is buried?" Shizuma nodded gently, her fingertips tracing tender lines across the back of Nagisa's hand. "I've not been there in a very long time. Miyuki was right to say we've been neglective." Nagisa dipped her eyes, her gaze lost somewhere in the shimmer of Shizuma's black uniform for a moment. "Is it because of me?" she asked, returning her attention to Shizuma's face. The sixth year smiled fondly, shaking her head as she brushed her lover's cheek. "Oh no Nagisa no, it's nothing you've done. I've just... avoided going, I guess," she said, and in after thought then added, "A bit like the Summer House." Nagisa nodded in understanding, a soft murmur escaping her lips and mirroring her lover's sadness. Sat quietly for a moment, she searched her mind for something positive she might say to make a difference. Catching one such possibility, she offered timidly, "Perhaps once Shizuma-sama has visited with President Rokujo, if she were wanting to go again then she might let me accompany her instead?" Despite the upbeat emphasis, Nagisa finished the sentence with her gaze once again on the carpet. Lifting the red head's chin with a single curled finger, Shizuma queried the response with an astonished eye. "You'd do that for me?" she asked, surprise belaying her underwriting sadness, "After everything I put you through at the Summer House, you'd go to Nabeshima with me as well?" Nagisa felt her heart sink with the memory, but despite the uncomfortable emotions it dredged up, she nodded meekly and smiled her confirmation. She couldn't summon the words, but somehow wanted to purvey the degree to which she cared for this person before her, the lengths she would to go to just to draw a smile from those beautiful lips. Shizuma sighed fondly as she returned a hand to Nagisa's cheek, cupping the younger girl's face as she shook her head in soft disbelief. "I don't deserve you Aoi-ue, I truly don't," she murmured, her chest heavy and leaden. Leaning forward, she planted a tender kiss on the young Etoile's index finger amongst the bundle of their clasped hands, the metallic surface of Nagisa's smooth platinum engagement band warm against her skin. "What would I do without you?" she smiled wearily. Nagisa stared back, her eyes unwavering. "I love you Shizuma-sama," she whispered, "I'd do anything to take this sadness away." And without thinking, the red head rocked forward on her knees, releasing Shizuma's hands from her own as she drew her arms around the sixth year's slender neck. She embraced the older girl lovingly, her auburn eyes drawing closed as she curled herself against the former-Etoile's chest. They remained there for a moment, Shizuma not fully free from her veil of past grief and naggingly aware of their proximity to the Sister's office. But as Nagisa buried herself deeper into Shizuma's waiting shoulder, her skin warm and her breath soft against the older girl's neck, Shizuma closed her eyes, a gentle sigh passing her lips as she felt the red head's presence chase the shadows away. She slipped messily from the sofa's edge, the young couple then curling into a heap on the floor, all thoughts of etiquette and composure soon far from their minds. - - - - - "Get it together you snivelling piece of shit!" Red ringed eyes stared wildly into the bathroom mirror, the coal black pools at each centre then blurring into intent slits as Kaname once again pressed freezing fingers to her face, parsing them over her lips as ice cold water tumbled down her forearms and onto the parquet floor below. She held them there for a moment as she reopened her eyes, the slender fifth year watching her own expression before returning her hands to the sink basin, the young woman leaning heavily against the ceramics as the sound of the freely running tap water echoed off the tiles around her. She'd never lost her cool like that before, never left herself so widely open in public. She'd watched Miyuki push all the correct buttons and yet still been stupid enough to react when she was given her cue to do so after. Everyone would be asking questions, particularly that wretched Hanazono bitch, Shizuma now waving a pitchfork and placard and offering yet another unwelcome obstacle to remove. What Kaname had done to rattle the former-Etoile's cage she had no idea. "You're better than this," she whispered. "You're stronger than this. You need to stop being such an idiot and get your head together again." She waited until the lump in her throat and the burning in her sinuses had receded, Kaname knowing full well that Amane would be knocking for her soon having retired to her own Dormitory to change. There would be no further margin for error if the council assistant were to retain her prize, particularly since she'd succumbed to an unexplainable urge to help retrieve the blonde. Why she'd opened her mouth when they'd stumbled across those unexpected details in the Nanto girl's file still completely dumbfounded her. She was growing soft. Old, soft and stupid. Jamming the tap closed and stalking from the bathroom, Kaname whipped one of the white cotton towels free from the back of the bathroom door as she returned to the dormitory proper. Patting her arms and face dry, she then set about removing the ridiculous outfit she'd worn to the welfare office, the black nouveau two-piece otherwise untouched since the dinner party at Kiyashiki Manor that she'd originally purchased it for. Why Momomi had insisted on femm'ing her up for her sole audience with the brunette's parents still confused Kaname to this day. Did her short hair really scream dyke that much? She looked again at herself in the mirror, from her now panda-like eye shadow to the black shirt hanging halfway down her arms, the fabric trapped and the council assistant midway through undoing the cuffs to free herself from it completely. Her skin blotchy and marred, her eyes puffy and red, Kaname was once again halted by the state of her appearance. Perhaps it's love that does this to a person, she mused. Surely there couldn't be another human emotion as callous and contrived. After all, wasn't love little more than obsession painted with the self-righteousness brush? She couldn't once remember having gone to such lengths to do little more than fuck herself over in the past... Sneering at her reflection, Kaname shed the shirt and set about removing her ruined makeup. - - - - - "So where the hell have you been?" Xinyu's breath curled into the air as he spoke, the Chinese drummer pushing himself up with a grimace having spent far too much time crouched against the hard steel sheet of the lockup's reinforced door panel. His body language hostile and accusative, he watched as Ginji and the two youngsters crossed the remaining gravel lying between them and the waiting band. "You said early, not 'stayed up boning school girls all night' early. We've been freezing our nuts off out here for nearly an hour," the young man continued. Despite the rudeness of Xinyu's insinuation and the vulgarity of its undisclosed implications, Ginji brushed the more than typical train of abuse to one side with a smirk. Xinyu was a foul little shit, but god could he beat the tubs like no one else. "Sorry guys," Ginji replied, "I got caught up with Bennie before coming out. He's running loads for us tomorrow." The dark eyed drummer raised a 'like fuck you did' eyebrow and sighed heavily in response. "More distractions huh...? 'Great.' Well he better help us clear that back wall this time, I'm getting tired of carrying his lazy ass." Ginji shook his head with a chuckle, bemused disapproval on his face as he approached the steel door to unlock it, the big man nodding to his two remaining band members as they also gathered to enter, the gesture returned with a curt nod of respect as he did so. Waiting for Ginji to deal with the locks, the blonde haired lead guitarist behind him took a moment to address the drummer's objection, eyeing his half finished cigarette subjectively as he took a step forward toward his companion. "At the end of the day Xin," the young man began, pausing with his arm resting on the drummer's shoulder while he took one final drag on the burning tobacco. "Bennie's an American." He paused again, flicking the rejected butt to one side while the sly grin behind his raised eyebrow told the Chinese drummer that there was still more to come. Waiting until he'd piqued enough curiosity for effect, the guitarist then exhaled a cloud of cigarette smoke and dropped his punch line with absolute relish. "What the fuck do you expect?" he said, leaning into Xinyu's unexpecting face with a happy leer, "They're almost as bad as the Chinese." He patted the drummer to the amusement of the remaining band, Ginji glancing back with a wry smile as his fellow guitarist stepped away from the dark eyed scowl now burning holes in his face. Xinyu had never really gotten the idea despite the many years the group having known each other; if he just clipped his abusive tone once in a while he'd find himself nowhere near as besieged by the others, the brown-blonde haired Hiroki in particular. Turning back, Ginji shunted the heavy duty bolt across the middle of the door frame with a loud clank, repeating the action at the top and bottom as he removed each restraining padlock. Pushing the door open after, he motioned the others inside with his look of bemusement still present, offloading the locks to the dark haired bassist as he passed by. "Knock the heater on would you Take?" he asked, his companion nodding in response. Ginji then motioned the girls inside as well, Hikari once again subdued in the face of so many unfamiliar and roguish strangers, the youngster trailing slightly behind her roommate. Landing a giant but gentle hand briefly on her shoulder, the big man offered a reassuring smile in the hope it might still her obvious apprehension, the gesture receiving a wide look of surprise followed by the embarrassed blonde dipping her eyes in self-conscious appreciation. Ahead of her, Yaya watched as her fellow Astrean's bunches fell forward and smiled fondly, the dark haired girl beckoning for Hikari to join her by the huge tin chests that lined the front facing internal wall. Pulling herself up to sit upon one, Yaya squeezed her roommate's hand before helping her up too. Watching with the blonde with a guarded edge to his stoic expression, Ginji then pulled the portal closed behind him with a dull thud. Adjusting to the transition between stark winter sun and dim strip light, the little Konohana girl glanced around from their place beside the centre clearing as the band set about preparing their equipment. Amps popped on with a rumbling hum, the fan heater whirred into life and Xinyu opened up the drum kit with a hammering crescendo of tubs and cymbals having stripped away his leather jacket and white Sex Pistols t-shirt. Finishing his roll call with a pounding retort from the double bass drum array, the young Chinese man rocked back on his wooden stool in satisfaction, rubbing the clammy oils from his hands across faded denim jeans. Hikari considered the young man's tattooed chest through the veil of her fringe as preparations continued on around her, an unopened bottle of water arcing through her field of vision as Ginji dished out the day's supplies. The object went unnoticed however, Hikari's blue gaze following the swirling Celtic patterns etched across Xinyu's thin but well muscled body. She wasn't used to seeing unclothed men anywhere other than at the hot springs or on a foreign beach somewhere warm, and although the artwork was striking, the youngster's brief preoccupation with it left her feeling ashamed for her curiosity. She jumped up as another clear plastic bottle came into view, this one hurtling much closer to her face and close enough to startle her from her thoughts. There was a loud clap to one side as Yaya's cupped hands nestled the plastic projectile. Smiling at her roommate, Yaya offered Hikari first draw. But before she could go on to undo the lid, the rumbling sound of bass guitar caught their collective attention; the clipity-clop of Takeru's well-calloused fingers then driving the instrument's thick steel strings through various chords and scales. Hitting the bottom end, the young gent's dark midnight eyes sparkled as his pounding amp threatened to rattle the window panes loose. He continued on through several extra bars before pausing with his blue bass hanging loosely from its shoulder strap, the tall musician reaching up with both hands to secure his long black hair with an old elastic band he'd pulled from around his right wrist. Satisfied that his hair was taut and secure, he then finished one final rumbling scale for good measure. With the bass having finally fell silent, the brown eyed Hiroki then took his turn with a short but intense spitfire medley from his white flying V replica, the shorter man grinning as he planted his feet dramatically, hamming up his stage face for the benefit of his new audience, hitting the top end with a screech and ripping the final note apart with some creative yet excessive fret board work. Losing the demented lemming look he'd held for the highest note, he allowed the parting note to hum itself into silence, poking his tongue at the tiny Konohana girl who'd failed to silence an unexpected giggle as she watched his silly antics. He smiled warmly as the youngster blushed and screwed her nose up in reply, Yaya glancing happily between her roommate and the extroverted musician. Things would be so much easier if the others were going to keep Hikari involved, she thought to herself. Satisfied that each of their respective instruments were ready, the three musicians then turned back to their band leader for direction, Ginji busy stretching his shoulders out in the centre of the room. Scratching the back of his neck, he glanced around briefly as he retrieved his own guitar from its floor stand. "So before we get this started, I suppose I should introduce everyone properly," he said, turning back toward the girls. "Yaya," he remarked, planting a well rounded finger atop the taller girl's crown for good measure, "and Hikari," he added, motioning politely toward the black clad lolita with a respectful nod, "let me introduce you to Hiroki, our lead guitarist, Takeru, our quiet but amazingly talented bassist, and Xinyu, that mouthy shit in the corner." He'd highlighted each of the musicians in order from left to right, playing a clown-like punch-line ditty in high key as he'd reached the sardonic looking Chinese man sat behind his white Yamaha kit. Having finished introducing the rest of the band, he remained facing his Sanyian companions while continuing his disclosure, "The girls are gonna be staying with me for the next few days while they sort some shit out with home life matters, so unless anyone has an objection, I thought we could play with an audience until they decide what they're doing." His face gained a false look of consideration. "Problem for anyone?" he asked. The other two Japanese men shrugged contently, more than happy to have company along for the ride. It was only the drummer that actually bothered to offer a vocal reply. "Well as long as they stay out of the way and we can still get shit done; no, no problem at all," Xinyu replied, sniffing loudly as he leant against his tubs. Glancing at the others impatiently, he then asked, "So can we get on with this now?" And with a wry smirk, Ginji turned back the juniors, winking as the hulking Senmatsu man opened the first song with a deep growl and a rumbling power chord. - - - - - "Nagisa," Shizuma whispered, her cosy detachment very recently interrupted by a dull numbness spreading throughout her pinned right leg. "Nagisa," she repeated softly, craning against the sofa upholstery wedged into her lower back, the silver haired senior looking down toward the fourth year nestled upon her lap. She watched as the red head's dark eyelashes flicked open, her huge black pupils adjusting to the freshly revealed brightness of the lounge. Nagisa peered up through bleary eyes, the young Etoile now waking after having also drifted off in the warmth of their embrace. "We should get up my love," Shizuma said, "this isn't the most sensible of places to be napping together and my foot has gone to sleep." Nagisa smiled somewhat vacantly as she drew a deep nasal breath, the Aoi-girl's consciousness slowly beginning to reorientate itself as her happy cocoon slipped away. Shuffling out from beneath her lover as Nagisa leaned away, Shizuma grimaced as she struggled to her feet. "That's bad, oh that's bad," she exclaimed, flinching as she tried to shift her weight tentatively back across both legs so she could stand correctly. Nagisa watched with an increasing level of amusement as Shizuma fought with the ghostly needles shooting throughout her foot, a devious opportunity soon creeping into her mind. Levelling a single digit in the space beside Shizuma's satin-clad shin, she glanced up through the dark shroud of her eyelashes with a sadistic grin on her lips. "Don't you dare," Shizuma breathed, the slender senior shooing Nagisa's looming finger as the red head made to poke the throbbing appendance. Nagisa giggled as she wrestled her finger free from Shizuma's eventually successful grasp, looking up just in time to catch the burning scowl that flashed across the slender sixth year's face. "Oh my, I'm in love with an old hag," Nagisa teased, dodging Shizuma's return poke. Flouncing in mock contempt, the silver-haired girl grinned coyly, presenting an exaggerated pair of emerald daggers in reply. "Not my problem fatty," she hissed, mocking Nagisa's well-renown obsession with fattening French patisserie. She bent at the waist as she poked the fourth year's tummy, poke becoming tickle, tickle becoming squeeze. Waiting until her girlfriend was red in the face from writhing to her will, Shizuma straightened up with a smile, confident her dominance had returned. "And stay there," she finished with pride, her sweet smile victorious. She looked around briefly, unsure of how long they'd slumbered and once again aware that they might have been spotted. While it wasn't something she'd usually bother herself with elsewhere, the downstairs lounge lay leagues beyond disrespectful and the aging Dormitory Administrator had enough on her plate without having to chide her student's antics while members of the public were visiting the dormitory office with such regularity. The runaway issue had caused enough of a commotion as it was without her senior residentials compounding matters further. Filing the thought in the read-and-noted tray, Shizuma glanced back toward her lover, Nagisa still collapsed on the floor and glancing up cautiously in case Shizuma intended further bouts of torturous manhandling. Bemused by her lover's apprehension, Shizuma simply shook her head in amusement, ignoring the younger girl's pleading eyes. "Not until you apologise," she muttered with an aloof air of detachment, crossing her arms as she returned her gaze elsewhere. A sly grin curled into the corner of her peach coloured lips nonetheless. Standing there while she maintained her playful act, something else crept into the back of her mind and she paused the train of thought long enough for analysis. Losing her silly air briefly, her face fell blank once again. Where initially she'd intended to suggest finding Tamao, she now found herself contemplating something else entirely, and after a moment's deep internal submersion, a fond smile washed back across the sixth year's delicate features. "What?" the red head asked, her voice regaining the remnants of her earlier giggling fit as she watched the senior's ponderous expression shift back from it's serious state. Shizuma's smile had spread to her eyes, and the sixth year shook her head wordlessly. "What!" Nagisa exclaimed, her broad grin betraying a building sense of frustrated confusion. Shizuma slipped back to the floor, Nagisa craning to escape but stopped as Shizuma rested on one knee, reaching forward to press a single slender finger to the red head's fearful lips. "Thank you Nagisa," she whispered. "Thank you for being able to do this for me." She smiled again, holding her reflection in the watching auburn orbs just long enough for Nagisa to calm down and catch her true meaning. Then, with a deep breath and a pleasant sigh, the silver haired girl returned to her feet. Nagisa tipped her head as she glanced up with soppy eyes, the red head gaining her own warm expression in return. Offering her hand to the fourth year below, Shizuma helped her fiancée up while her gaze fell absentmindedly elsewhere again. Without glancing back, Shizuma offered a soft request as the messy looking red head smoothed her crumpled uniform out. "Nagisa..." she began quietly, her tone one of distraction and aside, "Would you come play piano with me for a while?" - - - - - "And my student pass will be okay for that?" Chikaru asked, the pretty Lulim senior flipping her laminated prefecture pass between the fingers of her free hand. Standing between her bed and an ornate bedroom dresser, Chikaru considered the elaborate sea of papers sprawled across her bed linen, waiting patiently for the official on the other end of the phone to answer her remaining query. Rolling the smooth white handset into the curve between her shoulder and neck so she could work with both hands free, Chikaru placed her ID card safely to one side before turning to gather the phalanx of printed pages back into some vague semblance of order. Where possible she sorted the information by subtopic and date, rebuilding the archive as best she could before returning it to the dresser top. Once there, she shuffled the messy papers straight against the rigid wooden surface. Satisfied that everything was present and correct, Chikaru slipped the wedge of information into a clear plastic wallet marked by a handwritten label, the fifth year curious while the gentleman in her call shared the question with a quiet female colleague located somewhere in the background. Sealing the wallet's sliding metal zipper, Chikaru did her best to listen in as she carefully returned the folder to its place within the top dresser drawer. "Yes miss, you should be perfectly fine with that," the gentleman replied on his return, "just remember to present it at the ticket barrier." Chikaru smiled in relief. "Thank you so much for your troubles," the young woman offered with an elevated level of politeness, the council senior then bidding her correspondent a pleasant afternoon before returning the handset to its stand. Straightening up with a brimming sense of excitement, Chikaru clasped her hands beneath her chin, slipping her eyelids closed as she relished the moment in hand. Everything had all fallen into place, and in triumph the young woman allowed a happy smile to spread across her lips. She stayed as she was for a moment, waiting for the whirlwind in her head to settle. "So which cat got the cream here then?" came a coy voice from behind her. Caught off guard, Chikaru's rich burgundy eyes shot open and she glanced around in a blur. "Naoko?" she asked, sure she'd caught a flash of blonde in the wall mirror opposite. Turning once again, she found herself ambushed by sneakily delivered embraces. "Ki-chama!" came the reply. Smothered by hugs and lost amongst her older sister's huge woollen jumper, Chikaru could only roll her eyes in response, the young woman abandoning a muffled reply as the words failed to breech the thick sleeves of Naoko's heavy garment. They remained there a moment, the Minamoto daughters recovering an entire year's lost cuddles, their various endeavours during that time having failed to synchronise no matter how hard they'd tried on the contrary. Stepping back as she loosened her happy grip, the senior Minamoto daughter found herself greeted by a bemused frown of disapproval. "Ki-chama?" Chikaru questioned with an amused eye, "I thought we dropped those names in kinder garden?" Naoko flashed a sardonic grin in response, chiding her darker haired sister in turn. "And I stopped wearing bows in my hair when I was five," she said, wiggling the ends of Chikaru's signatory hair ties, "but that's not stopped you yet has it?" Naoko teased playfully, grinning at the younger woman she held at arm's length. Despite Chikaru's extra height and the shortness of Naoko's multilayered, bottle blonde bob, the two girls were practically identical in every other respect. They shared the same brown eyes, the same slender profile and the Minamoto family's striking facial traits; from their elevated cheekbones to their perfectly rounded lips, their petite button nose to that oh so expressive brow line. Both girls were the spitting image of their mother, and either might have been confused for the other in the days before the elder had left for Kobe University. Once there she'd immediately had her hair cut short and bleached, independence and rebellion very much the theme. The siblings remained facing each other for a short while longer until Chikaru briefly reached back to re-hug her little-big-sis, smiling contently before continuing to clean her things away. "It's so nice to see you finally," she said pleasantly, recovering the contents of a half-emptied pencil case before zipping the brimming vessel closed, "it's been far too long this year." Naoko nodded in reply as she curled up on the bedcover, watching her younger sister while she worked. "I'm sorry I didn't make it back for summer break," she offered, "but with a thirty eight week lease it just seemed easier to stay and make use of the time. The pharmaceutical labs never seem to close no matter what day of the year it is; there's always someone there somewhere." She giggled with the dirtiest of smiles as she considered the holiday's other collective exploits, most of which might be filed under the broadly descriptive term, 'non-academic.' "Besides," she continued with exaggerated wonderment, "there's nothing more... educating, than male med students out on the town." Chikaru's eyes sparkled with jealous curiosity, the fifth year then realising she was being played, reaching back to launch a soft black pillow at the undergrad in retaliation. "Don't be so mean! You know that's not fair..." Naoko embraced the expertly recovered projectile, burying her chin amongst its soft feather downs. "Oh well..." she sighed with mock disregard, "Such is life." She grinned back vindictively. Chikaru rolled her eyes, resisting further comment as she moved her smaller sewing box and several half finished designs back across to her desk. Then, gathering them together from the headboard end of the bed, she set about rehanging parts of her portfolio in one of her large wall-length wardrobes, the selection of particularly prized pieces having been removed earlier for study and documentation. "You've been busy..." Naoko remarked, noting that she recognized several of the outfits her sister was carefully stowing away. The council President simply nodded in reply, her smile one of knowing ambiguity. "I'm always busy," she added innocently. Taking that as a hint, Naoko opted for a return to her previous subject. "So Yuki and I are going steady now," the university student offered, the commitment to an only recently related name prompting a stunned look from her sister. "But what about Michiko?" the fifth year asked, certain her sibling's endless stream of emails had only mentioned the first name in passing. "Oh she doesn't mind, she knows I like guys too," Naoko replied dismissively, "and Karin seems much more her type anyway; they're always together outside of class." The council President paused with one hand pressed to her temple, framing her chuckling brow. "How do any of you find time to study?" she asked with a smile, glancing out from beneath her hand as she gently shook her head, "this was all you had to talk about last time we spoke too." Naoko's giggle reignited her pretty face. "It's the first year silly; no one does any work in the first year." She toyed with the pillow's corner. "Besides, all I hear there is the creeping sound of jealousy..." Chikaru threw a mock glare and returned to hanging clothes. "Oh don't worry Sis, it'll be your turn soon enough," the older girl continued, watching as Chikaru checked she'd not nicked any of the garments whilst replacing them. "You know Rain is talking rather seriously about visiting you this term?" The Lulim girl privately rolled her eyes, dodging the subject entirely. "Where's Mum?" she asked flatly, eying the last the outfit as she drew the wardrobe closed. Her sister pouted in disappointment. "She's downstairs chatting to someone from work; they called as soon as we arrived. Apparently you have runaways this year?" Chikaru nodded her confirmation, sidelining yet another of her sister's chosen subjects, only this time out of nagging concern for the missing shorter Spican; Chikaru was struggling to force the matter from her mind as it was without relaying events all over again. "And an engagement," the younger girl selected instead, "although I'll bet Mother didn't mention that to you in the car." "Etoile-Hanazono-sama's?" Naoko asked, "Actually she did." Chikaru baulked. "She did?" Naoko nodded in reply. "And here's something I bet she didn't tell you either," Naoko gloated, relishing her position as most informed. "The Principal of Miator wanted to challenge it, only to have the old bat of all people call him off." Chikaru baulked once again, this time her face fully dropping. "Mizue Hamasaka?" she blanched. "Uh huh. Mother was there at the time and overheard the entire thing." Naoko grinned, watching as her sister came to perch sideways atop the bed. "Apparently the Sister wasn't taking no for an answer either." Chikaru's head span in confusion, the young woman staring at the duvet cover in silence before glancing back up to her blonde haired sibling before her. "You're telling me that the Head Administrator of Ichigo-sha faced down the Principal of Miator Girl's Academy, the oldest Catholic institute in Kyoto, over a matter of homosexual engagement?" Chikaru reeled in disbelief. "So what else did Mother tell you about it?" she asked, craning in a hushed tone. Noting the familiar look weaved within her sister's quickly recovered expression, Naoko let her dark eyes twinkle as she watched Chikaru's curiosity make its mark. "Mine her yourself Sherlock," she replied dismissively, "I know you hate it second hand." The Lulim senior chuckled in acknowledgement, their Mother never quite the impartial diplomat her role at Miator Academy might otherwise suggest. The lady of the house would be bound to disclose more of the matter over dinner, something both daughters knew full well. "Oh don't you worry, I will," the fifth year replied, her dark eyes glinting purposefully. "And it's not Etoile-sama anymore by the way; Shizuma didn't stand this time," Chikaru added, noting how much time had passed since her sister had left St Lulim's before attending University. Naoko frowned in confusion. "Eh? Mum said it was one of the Etoile?" the undergrad asked. "It is; Shizuma's fiancée is the Etoile Cadette," the younger girl explained, "and they make the cutest of couples too." Noting the beaming smile, Naoko shook her head in disapproval. "You're such a voyeur Sis. When are you going to stop stalking other people's relationships and find a girlfriend of your own?" Chikaru once again withdrew at the touchy subject, although this time attempting to leave enough of a response to dissuade her older sister from further besieging commentary. "Why do you always presume I'll choose another girl Naoko? A sister shouldn't obsess so with her sibling's sexuality." Naoko blurgh'ed in response, "Fine then Miss Dictionary," she berated, "have it your own way. When will you find your own boyfriend instead? All you ever do is dabble in other people's business, isn't it time you struck out on your own?" Chikaru's expression lost its humorous edge altogether, her smokescreen having failed and a genuine look of hurt flashing across her face in response, "Unless I'm somehow mistaken," she replied guardedly, "I don't recall you risking Mother's wrath when you were still here either. You didn't start dating until after you'd left for University, so it's hardly fair of you to push the subject now. How am I supposed to hide a relationship when she's on site five days a week...?" Chikaru sighed in annoyance as she forced her sister's hand. "It's one thing helping other people, but the rumour mill is hardly selective in who it passes information on to..." Naoko waved her hand flippantly, trying to argue back. "Fine, fine, although I told you the other day that Rain had offered to meet you off campus," she replied, trying to regain her edge. The comment only prompted further retaliation. "And why is it the only time you introduce me to one of your friends you're trying to set me up? You're relentless Naoko; I've not even seen Rain-sama since we helped you move to Halls. Why the sudden urge to send her here now?" Naoko begin to grin, catching the hint of underlying subtext in her sister's subtlely graduated cheeks. "It's because she's American isn't it?" the older girl theorized, and she pried with a playfully teasing tone. "You never did like foreign girls did you..." Trying to hide her smirk of defeat, Chikaru screwed her nose up and batted her sister across the shoulder. "That's enough of that already," she grumbled with a grin, her dark eyes sparkling once more, "Not another word or I really will throw my rattle out of the pram." Naoko rolled her eyes and poked her tongue in reply. "Anyway," Chikaru breathed, realising there was a much simpler way of ratcheting the subject elsewhere, despite eying the half-open door with cautious apprehension. "I have much more important things to worry about at the moment." Her voice had dropped back toward muted and restricted, and the dark haired girl's knowing smile soon returned. Taking the bait, Naoko followed her cue and asked the expected question, "Which is...?" she prompted in curiosity. Chikaru pressed a finger into the bed cover as she stressed her pivotal condition. "First, you have to promise not to say anything to Mother. I don't want her getting her hopes up just yet." Naoko eyed her sister briefly, frowning as she nodded in agreement. "Fine, although I reserve to do exactly what I want if it turns out you're up to something illegal." She teased with further silliness, poking at the back of her sister's hand, "Now stop with the stupid veil of secrecy and tell me what you're up to." Chikaru leant back quickly toward the dresser, the slender fingers of the hand she used to steady herself nudging a delicate gold photo frame slightly across the dresser top as she slid the drawer open. Retrieving the same plastic folder she'd tidied away as her sister had arrived earlier, the gleeful Lulim senior nudged the wallet across the linen covers and into her sibling's lap. She watched quietly as the undergrad slowly removed the documentation, Naoko flicking from page to page until it dawned on her that the entire archive was one very long case study on the leading Kyoto fashion house. "Guess who has a trial at Rokujo Couture?" Chikaru asked, watching as her sister's jaw hit the floor. - - - - - "And this bit here, this is the whammy bar," Ginji said, his fingers outlining the curved steel handle at the base of his black guitar's fret board, just behind the shiny metal pickups. He gripped it tightly with his huge muscular hand, applying the lever gradually so Hikari could see the tension on the strings change. "That's the bit Hiroki uses to make his guitar jump pitch during his solos," he explained, and Hikari nodded in understanding. Ginji stepped back again, tipping the guitar's neck so the shiny black faceplate faced upward, his dark eyes taking another sweep of the mechanics as he considered whether or not there was anything more to impart. It seemed there was not, and the young man glanced back toward the lockup door to see if the others had finished their break. The heavy steel panel remained ajar, Hiroki's foot still wedged between it and the door frame as a twisting trail of cigarette smoke curled its way inside. Deciding to give them a few minutes more, Ginji returned his attention to the blonde. "You seem to be very aware when it comes to music and instruments little miss," the big man remarked, "Do you play something yourself?" The tiny blonde, Hikari still perched atop the huge tin chest that Yaya had helped her onto earlier, shook her head briefly in reply. "I play piano, but only because all the girls where I live have to. I'm not very good at it," she said. She was sat with her tiny legs dangling either side of the chest corner, her hands in her lap, their position trapping the smooth black satin of her petite gothic dress against the metal surface as she leant forward attentively. With the tips of her mohair leggings poking out from beneath the frilly hem, she allowed her legs to sway back and forth idly, her limbs dead with the unfamiliar weight of such heavy boots dragging them toward the floor. Despite having relaxed to a much greater degree than during her initial introduction to the band, her fingers still toyed with the white ruffled edging of her underlying petticoat for comfort. She'd spent much of this first break with the Senmatsu man, Yaya having disappeared outside for a breather and Ginji more than happy to take the youngster under his wing in the mean time. He found the little one intriguing, his childhood companion's partially disclosed infatuation with her an initial motivation for this curiosity, but as he observed the Konohana girl further, he stumbled across the subtle hint of some inner contradiction, a strange conflict within her otherwise timid nature that drove the investigation on. She made the strangest of remarks at times, seemingly indecisive and withdrawn one moment, then teeming with life and certainty the next. There was no denying Hikari's overly sheltered upbringing, yet at the back of his mind, Ginji couldn't help but think that she was at odds with herself, the self-doubting youngster perhaps fighting some deep-seated internal battle as though there were bits of her stifled and trying desperately to get out. She was too trusting on one hand, yet far too removed from herself on the other; one messy enigma waiting to come back to the boil. And Ginji used the word back with utter certainty; there was something very raw about the haunting sombreness that took the young girl's face whenever she thought no one else was looking. Either way, the big man mused, there must be something not quite right in her head; people from such privileged upbringings really shouldn't be so content to pass their time with a bunch of greasers at the arse-end of society. And yet here Hikari was, seemingly happy to while away the hours with the band, Hiroki in particular keeping her amused with his silly jokes and slapstick banter. And, Ginji had to admit, the bemused Sanyian smiling to himself at Hiroki's ridiculous antics, the way her huge blue eyes lit up when she laughed was absolutely infectious. He sighed heavily as he shed the thick shroud of internal musings. "That's a shame really," he remarked, returning to their conversation, "perhaps piano just doesn't grab your attention the way it should?" He gestured in suggestion, "Maybe you should try your hand at something else?" Glancing across his shoulder, he sought the attention of the dark haired bassist behind him, opting to confer with his more learned friend for inspiration. "Any suggestions Take?" he asked. The tall man looked up thoughtfully from the bottle of water clasped before him, mulling the matter over from his position perched atop Ginji's massive Marshall amp. "Well there's not much that follows directly from piano," the pony-tailed musician offered in a sagely tone, "although you might consider simply switching to keyboard; the extra versatility could draw you in?" His voice was jarringly deep compared to the others, the almost monotone calm of its delivery adding an immense weight to his offerings. No matter how superficial the topic of conversation, Takeru's words always ended up sounding profound. Hikari shrugged timidly at the suggestion, the Konohana girl not entirely sure and far too shy to discuss her own abilities amongst what were obviously such extremely capable individuals. "I don't think I'd be very good at an instrument," she murmured quietly, perking up a little as she added after, "But it is fun watching you play." Ginji smiled, the metal keychain that ran from his belt to the back pocket of his combats jangling as he moved, the hulk of a man loping back toward the centre amp to fetch his own bottle of water and take a quick swig. Meaning only the best but very much on autopilot, Ginji instinctively turned back to offer the open bottle to Hikari, his last gulp still fresh in his mouth and swirling around his tongue. Thankfully, it was as at that point that the metal door creaked open again and the remainder of the band returned, saving the Kyoto girl from the embarrassing dilemma of either accepting the vessel or working out how to turn it down. Enthused by returning determination, Ginji swished the liquid briefly before swallowing the lug whole, watching the returning duo with an intent eye as he bent forward to replace the bottle. "How we doing guys?" he rumbled as he straightened up, "Everyone ready to get back to it?" His words went unanswered however, Hiroki and Xinyu mid-flow as they argued a point of contention. "Like fuck it does," Hiroki was saying, "the bridge sounds like a school boy beating a tin can!" Xinyu was glaring back at him, the lead guitarist trying to renegotiate the type of drum sound used for a particular part of a particular song, the darker skinned drummer then struggling with what he automatically presumed was baseless idle criticism. "Since when did you do my job eh?" the Chinese man replied, "Since when did you have a fucking clue about what I do?" Xinyu had his back right up, and Hiroki wasn't far off the same. Noting that Yaya had also slipped in through the open doorway, Ginji frowned at the long look on her face before addressing the more pressing antagonism before him. "You two still arguing over Orion?" he asked, referring to their recently debated third performance track. Hiroki threw his arms up in reply. "He just doesn't get it, I've told him a thousand times he needs to knock the snare off; it sounds far too washy for chords that deep." Ginji turned to the drummer to await his inevitable reply. "Why do I have to accept some lady boy telling me how to play my tubs?" Xinyu began, "I changed the bridge because it sounded shit weak and we all knew it needed something else. I gave it some rhythm and I've been playing it that way for a month; if it's such an 'end of the world' issue, then why didn't someone bring it up before? Why are we suddenly trying to change stuff again with less than a week to go?" The big man shrugged as the matter washed him by. Ginji was more than used to the day to day confrontations now and somehow found himself extra tolerant today, potentially due to the extremely chilled manner in which he'd passed the recent interlude. "Fine," he remarked calmly, "we play it both ways and vote on which suits best after." Xinyu immediately exploded, "Repeat it? Why the fuck would we want to do that? We've been playing that fucking song for an hour now you dumb shit!" He threw a scowl to match the endless stream of expletives, "Having wasted half the bloody morning waiting for you to drag your sorry ass out of bed, you now want to throw even more time down the drain debating something we already decided over a month ago? The playoff is Sunday. Sun-day. We're running out of time." And to emphasis his point, he knocked his temple patronizingly to suggest a lack of comprehension on his band leader's part. "Are you even awake or is your dense meatball of a brain too wrapped up in the loligirls to take anything else in?" Xinyu paused for breath as his mind caught up with his jaw, only taking a second before launching back into a further tirade of abuse. "Look at you; you've done nothing but space all day while lover boy here," and he motioned vaguely towards Hiroki, "has spent the rest of the time playing Romeo. Pay some fucking attention the pair of you or ditch the stupid birds, I ain't repeating myself just because you're off in dream land!" Ginji's tolerance fell away and he sighed with a resolute tone. While the Senmatsu man had certainly taken the day at a slower pace than usual, he wasn't about to accept such subversion simply because an individual performer refused to consider altering his play style because it went against his own personal tastes to do so. The band worked as a team, and while Xinyu often had a point when he ranted this way, this time he'd simply pushed matters too far. And going on to blame the presence of the girls was little more than a cheap attempt at dodging the subject itself, something which would no doubt make the girls thoroughly uncomfortable. Indeed, Hikari's expression was already crestfallen, the youngster dismayed by the possibility that their presence might be in some way to blame for the band's emerging difficulties. She'd certainly not wanted to get in the way no matter how much she was enjoying herself. Ginji was midway across the centre area with the intent of squaring off when a low voice broke the silence around them. "We were going out anyway," came Yaya's words. Everyone turned to the teenager, the dark haired girl calling from her retained position by the lockup door. She reached her hand out, beckoning for Hikari to join her. "Seriously, it's fine," she said, ignoring the plethora of stares, "it's late afternoon now and I've been waiting till it was quieter out anyway," she explained, gesturing once again when Hikari failed to approach. "I'd like take Hikari for a walk and show her some of the places we used to hang out. That should give you lot plenty of time to work this through without having the pair of us in the way," she continued. There was something worryingly false about her agreeability, Ginji thought at first, and her body language oozed noncommittal in every possible way. She wasn't backing down however, and once again gestured for Hikari's hand. Ginji was about to protest the matter, his huge arm reaching forward to stop the tiny blonde before she lowered herself from her perch, when finally the big man caught the subtext layered in Yaya's odd tone. He rocked his stubbled jaw backward in sudden understanding. "Ah," he muttered, scratching at his chin, "well I guess that sorta makes sense yeah," he declared, his tone equally obscure. Nodding to the others in a self-righteous display of justification, Xinyu raised his arms as though it all made perfect sense, the drummer unwittingly unaware of Ginji and Yaya's earlier discussion that morning. Squeezing the little one's arm in a display of solidarity as Hikari slipped past him, Ginji shot her a quick smile before returning his attention to the mouthy dissenter prancing about nearby, his huge chest rising with a long, deep breath and his nostrils flaring to signal his continued displeasure with Xinyu's disruptive behaviour. Having made his point, Ginji turned back toward the doorway. "You gonna come back here?" Ginji asked, watching as Hikari trotted across to take the taller girl's arm, the little blonde curling herself against Yaya's leather-clad flank. "I can give you the keys to the flat if you want?" he offered. Yaya shook her head. "No, no need," she muttered with an uncomfortable undertone, "I doubt we'll be gone that long. Just long enough to stretch our legs," she finished tellingly. - - - - - "Smells good Suzumi-san." Tamao jumped with a start, looking up from the wok she was tending in surprise. "Rokujo-sama, I hadn't noticed you there," she said, her heart thumping as she recovered herself. Miyuki was hovering by the kitchen door, her hand resting against the door frame. Tamao had no idea how long she'd been there. "Your mind certainly seemed to be somewhere else, yes," Miyuki remarked with a bemused smile, the young woman stepping forward into the kitchen, her uniform rustling with the motion. She seemed oddly defused after her earlier display of dominance in the downstairs lounge below them, and the comment was delivered with an underlying hint of weariness. "I've always loved listening to her play," the sixth year said as she shrewdly bent the conversation toward the young Etoile's place of diversion, Miyuki brushing her dark hair back to cock an ear to the piano duet floating through the floorboards. "Nagisa does well to keep up," she added. Tamao smiled distractedly, returning her attentions to the stove and shuffling the steel pan on the hob as she did. "She used to practice endlessly; I got the impression she trying to make sure she wouldn't disappoint Shizuma when they next played together," the fourth year explained with fond regard. "She was always doing little things like that before the election." Miyuki's face shifted with a wry edge. "Shizuma has that effect yes..." Tamao stirred at the sentiment, looking up into the sixth year's sad eyes. "You must be tired Rokujo-sama, I was surprised to see you up and about so soon after the Ball," she said. Miyuki smiled, the pretty senior drawing her long black mane around the back of her neck and down one shoulder, her childhood habit of playing with the soft fibres somehow having returned since she'd had her extensions put in. Even after all this time, the act was oddly reassuring. "It seems Shion has left me little choice," she said, rolling the clump of onyx tips around and around her index finger, "I'm sorry for the effect this matter will have on your break." Tamao shrugged dismissively as she shuffled the wok again, pushing the food around with her long bamboo saibashi. "It's no bother, I'm sure we'll be home for New Year's." Miyuki accepted the happy optimisation without comment, watching a while before nodding again at the fiery wok. "You seem quite the expert Suzumi-san. The staff must have loved this holiday so far; they've yet to cook for us." Tamao dipped her eyes in acceptance, and after a quick thought, she glanced back at the older girl as she offered quietly, "You're welcome to join us Miyuki." The sixth year continued to watch the sizzling ingredients a moment longer before stirring just enough to relay her reply. She slipped a pace away from the work surface unit in subconscious retreat. "Thank you but no, I'm not sure I could face the company just yet," she replied, and she frowned slightly as she continued. "I didn't stop to thank you earlier Suzumi-san. That was wrong of me." Tamao looked up in surprise. "Don't be silly Rokujo-sama," she said, unsure how Miyuki could've have slid such a remark into the fire and brimstone of her earlier performance anyway. But as Tamao tumbled the concept internally, the council President dismissed her modesty in a much more direct manner. "I'm sure the last thing you'd had planned for Ball night was babysitting your emotional wreck of a council President. I should have thanked you properly at the time." Tamao returned her eyes to the stove as the Rokujo girl continued. "I meant what I said the other night Suzumi-san. I don't want to see you making the same stupid mistakes I did. You're better than that." The Etoile Ainee nodded quietly, her heart becoming heavy all of a sudden. Realising the impact of her words, Miyuki stopped herself from continuing any further, the sixth year biting her lip momentarily while the sizzle and pop of the wok filled the gap. "I seem to have a knack for saying the wrong thing these days don't I?" Miyuki sighed wryly, "That's something I really should address." She turned to leave, Tamao only looking up and realising the sixth year was going once Miyuki's back was turned and it was too late to convey that departure was unnecessary. But as the council President reached the open doorway, Miyuki paused briefly with her hand once again resting upon the carefully turned wooden framework. Glancing back across her shoulder, the council President added in a soft voice, "I'm sorry if my actions this term caused you pain Tamao; I never meant for them to. I'd just failed to realise that it was time to let go. I can only hope you come to your own senses much sooner than I did." And at that she disappeared, the young Etoile left staring at the now empty doorway. Churning the term's events briefly while she considered the tiny silver locket dangling from her wrist, Tamao opted to set such matters to one side, the fourth year content to let her mind to slip back into the soft weave of Sonata D Minor, the pleasantly distracting music floating up from the Dormitory lounge beneath her. - - - - - "And behind that," Yaya said, craning her shoulder so she could highlight a rusting cylindrical oil tank at the very edge of their view, "was where I had my first kiss." Hikari followed the taller girl's direction, having to lean across her roommate's jacket-sheltered thighs to see past the veil of long, dark hair hanging in her way. She stared boggle-eyed at the aging tanker, the large steel drum located amongst a row of dilapidated wooden sheds at the back of the playground the two girls were overlooking, the young Astreans perched atop a low flat roof opposite Yaya's final Sanyian junior school. Amongst the drab scenery of the third year's early childhood, the Okimoto girl was busy relaying bits of her past. "It was with Yoshiro Saito," she said, an obvious tinge of disgust to her tone, "a short, smelly boy from the year below me who I kinda liked anyway because he put gel in his hair and had his own telephone line at home." She shrugged with the admission, certain the Konohana girl could have no idea how such seemingly trivial matters in her world might have had such a pull in this one. Pausing as Hikari sat back from her place straining across Yaya's legs, the dark haired third year waited before embarking on the more embarrassing parts of the tale. "Anyway, it wasn't my idea, it was his, and he badgered me for days and days before I finally gave in and agreed. He'd leave one note in my desk each morning and another in my locker before we went home. When I eventually agreed to let him do it, it was only because I'd made him promise he loved me more than his tamigotchi. I even made him starve it for two days beforehand just to prove he wasn't lying." When Hikari raised a perplexed eyebrow in response, Yaya couldn't choose which to laugh at first; the expression or her own level of stupidity. "Genius huh?" she agreed with a sour roll of her eyes, "I was certain he meant it too." She smiled wryly and continued on with her tale, "So when it eventually happened... hmm, it was in the final year before I left," she said, pausing mid sentence to re-orientate her timing, "which I guess must have made me eight still." She sighed as she relived more of the returning history. "Anyway, the whole thing wouldn't have been anywhere near as bad if he hadn't told all his friends the next day that I'd given him stinky finger too. See, he forgot to feed the tamigotchi after we kissed because he spent the whole day writing me this huge long love letter to say thank you, only to find the stupid thing had died when he got it out of his pocket on the way home. He hated me so much for that, he made sure I'd never live it down." She shook her head with a sigh as she watched Hikari struggle with the joys of mixed sex schooling. "They called me so many names after that. Sushi-fanny, sea-weed fanny, sea-weed Okimoto. It was just one thing after for months until I left." Yaya's face took a wistful tone as her eyes glazed over in thought. "It was times like that when I really missed her. I'd lie there in bed and when the names were all I could hear when I closed my eyes, I used to imagine she was there, holding my hand and sitting on the edge of my bed." Hikari looked back toward her roommate, the youngster only having learned of Okimoto senior's demise in the short time since they'd left the band behind in the lockup. Her softly rounded cheeks still carried the dried stains from her first bout of tears. "Yaya-chan..." she muttered, the same hollow feeling eating at her chest once again. She leant across to curl around the taller girl's arm. With a sad smile, Yaya looked down at the blonde beside her. "It wasn't that long after the Yoshiro thing that they came to take me away really. I went home after having had supper at Ginji's one evening and there they all were, sat with my old man in the middle of the living room." Her expression withdrew as she pictured the suited men standing either side of the food-stained sofa, her father staring blankly at the empty bottles scattered across the floor while the fat woman with the patronizing tone had informed Yaya of her fate, telling her how removing her from this awful squalor was what was best for her, and how they were going to take much better care of her in future. It was only in retrospect now that she realised her father's presence and his muted response might have been an act of enforced shaming, not that it had mattered much beyond his next bottle of sake she presumed. Sighing heavily, she waited for the moment and the building wave of emotion to pass, Yaya and Hikari huddled together quietly amongst the increasingly cold air, overlooking the stark world that was Tokyo's largest slum. After a long period of silence, Hikari's quiet voice crept out from beneath her messy blonde fringe. "Yaya-chan," she whispered timidly, "what's it like being without a Mummy?" From anyone else, Yaya would have presumed the words simply thoughtless or insensitive, but from Hikari, she knew the question only came in an attempt to understand, her roommate undoubtedly struggling with everything that Yaya had presented her with. Hikari knew now of the death of her roommate's mother, of Yaya's removal into state care and her later adoption by the Nantos. She'd also heard a long but broken account of the transition between Sanya and Kyoto, and of some of the people Yaya had left behind on the way. "I don't really think about it anymore Hikari," she replied, trying to answer the question constructively, her tone as ponderous as it was subdued and sad. "It's been so long now, I don't really remember much about how I felt then to know how I feel about it now," she explained, not entirely sure she was making much sense. For clarity's sake, she offered, "She was there one day. And then she was gone. I knew it was coming; they'd told me that when she was admitted to hospital and they said they couldn't find a donor. But I guess it's like folding paper cranes each year; you don't really take it in when they first tell you why." Hikari looked up with fresh tears in her eyes. "Yaya-chan..." she mumbled, sniffling as she reached a hand for her roommate's face. Yaya turned the hand away with a gentle but appreciative gesture, pressing it into a ball in the centre of Hikari's chest. "Don't be sad for me Hikari," she said with a sombre tone, "there were girls in Osaka that had been through much worse," and she nodded with a gathered sense of conviction. "I had Ginji to look after me before I left, and he never once let me go without, no matter what he had to do to make sure I was okay." She smiled at the memory of the cocky young lad who used to scale the walls of the neighbour's yard, just to prove how dexterous he was to the young girl waiting below. Without that sense of companionship, without the young boy who became a man and surrogate father in the absence of their devastated other, Yaya wouldn't have lasted a day. "He's been wonderful. Even after everything and all the things he went through, he still puts up with me when I need him," she muttered in awe. It was then that Hikari sat up; her telling blue eyes preceding the awkward question that Yaya had suspected would eventually arise. "Who is Ginji-san Yaya-chan?" she asked, her brow furrowed in confusion, "Okimoto-sama didn't keep staff, and Ginji-san isn't old enough to be your uncle... is he a friend of the family?" Yaya paused for a moment, choosing her words carefully when she finally began her reply. "It's probably better," she started, only to stop and restart almost immediately, "It's probably easier if you don't know who Ginji really is, for everyone's sake Hikari. If the police do find us, they'll want to ask us lots of questions and its better they don't get all the answered." Hikari's frown only deepened, not understanding her roommate's meaning at all. "The last people Ginji needs to see right now is the police," the dark haired girl reaffirmed. Hikari tumbled the matter over in her head, trying to understand the reasoning behind Yaya's assertion. "Is it because of the things he has at the lockup?" the little blonde asked, Yaya continuingly vague when she offered her reply. "No, not really..." she muttered, glancing off across the gradually darkening skyline. "Then is it-" the Konohana girl began. Yaya simply cut her off. "Hikari, it's better if you just forget the name Ginji if the police become involved. We'll just tell them that we stayed with some guys we met in the park or at the station. They don't need to know anything more than that." Uncomfortable with the idea of lying, Hikari's mind tumbled various potential scenarios, her broad imagination soon generating many very horrid possibilities, all of which terrified her thoroughly. Peering up meekly from beside her roommate's shoulder, the tiny third year asked in a small voice, "Has he done something really bad?" she whispered. Increasingly tired of the fishing, Yaya sighed and stated bluntly, "Only if you wanna look at it that way," she said, and huffed again at the thought of having to compromise such a long held vow of secrecy. "Look, Ginji's done some things in the past that would really get him in trouble if the police found out who he is. But he did them for a good reason, and I doubt he's done anything like that since." She tried to look reassuring, "You don't need to be scared of him Hikari, isn't that obvious from the way he looks after people? From the way he's looking after us now?" Hikari remained unconvinced. "Did he hurt someone?" she asked, the possibility all too believable given how scary she'd found the man initially. At that Yaya stopped, the intense child turning to face her friend properly, Yaya scouring Hikari's timid face until she'd fully resolved herself to her next words. "If you really have to know; yes, he hurt someone. And he hurt them badly. And if he needed to do it again, I'm sure he wouldn't think twice about it. But he did what he did because no one else wanted to stop the person he hurt from hurting other people. And if he hadn't done what he did..." But she stumbled over her words, soon realising how clearly she was implying matters and struggling as much with what she was about to reveal as she was with the still harrowing memory of it. With one glaring exception, all men were complete and utter bastards. "Hikari please..." she whispered, a mascara-laden tear rolling down her cheek, "Ginji's a good man. He just needs a break and a fresh start," she pleaded. With the vaguest understanding of Yaya's prematurely aborted rant now finally dawning upon her, Hikari slowly nodded as she grappled with the beginnings of comprehension, as fearful now of what Yaya might be suggesting as she had been of the potentially unhinged stranger she'd initially thought she'd found herself lodging with. "Ginji-san really loves Yaya-chan doesn't he?" she asked quietly. Shivering as the increasingly cold wind bit between the folds of her overcoat, Yaya nodded vacantly. "Yes, he does..." she muttered. Parsing her lips with a somehow resigned expression, Hikari then pushed her line of questioning one step further. "Does Yaya-chan love Ginji-san too?" she asked; her voice even smaller and meeker than it had been before. At first Yaya's mind simply echoed the words, something about their delivery nagging at her and doing so with an increasing level of persistence. It was only when her mind articulated the word 'concern' that the inconceivable finally hit her; Hikari had misinterpreted the obvious affection passing between the two reunited Sanyians as something no one who knew their full history could ever possibly have. Of course, Yaya thought to herself, how else would this look without having lived their past lives with them? She sighed, turning back to the pretty blue eyes waiting for her response. Tear-framed from their earlier release of sympathy, with those striking blue irises ringed by a retained tinge of red, Hikari's expression was once again that of the wild mess who'd descended into their shared Dormitory in a soaked tracksuit and trainers the night before last. Preparing her response with the same level of care that she'd used throughout almost all of this long and difficult afternoon, Yaya reached her for roommate's chilled hands as she spoke. "Not in the same way she loves Hikari-chan," the young woman finally replied. Hikari gazed back, her expression one of emotional saturation, too much being processed by her overloaded and overwhelmed mind for this all to make sense at once. Without realising it, Yaya's words had unwittingly loosed the dam all over again. Thoughts of Amane returned, thoughts of that horrid Kenjo woman standing over them in the Dormitory fire escape, thoughts of Yaya's pained and haunting expression as Hikari had pushed her away in their Dormitory, countless evenings of crestfallen smiles as Hikari had lost herself in self-absorbed daydreams of Spica's ever successful equestrian athlete, leaving Yaya skirting an absentee shell whose faraway expression had little to do with her... One confusing scene after another. The Cathedral. That look in Yaya's eyes... She shook her head in bewilderment. "Yaya-chan..." the little one mumbled, Hikari once again unsure of herself or what she thought she was doing. She squeezed her lips together in doubt, burying her head in best friend's shoulder, the same best friend she knew loved and wanted her as something much more. "Yaya-chan shouldn't say such things," she mumbled almost inaudibly. And as Yaya sat there quietly, watching soft eyelashes flickering with indecision beneath the blonde fringe flowing across her right shoulder, watching as Hikari's chest rose and fell with each nervous breath, she felt the rising air of anxiety build within the young woman leant against her. Knowing none of this was any simpler now than it had been before that horrid day at the Cathedral, or before Yaya had tried relaying her feelings that awful night in their Dormitory, the Okimoto girl felt the dull pang of inevitability slowly chew at her gut. Whether she wanted the answers or not, now was unavoidably the time for the telling question Yaya had brought them here to ask. She reached a delicate finger toward Hikari's quivering chin, tipping the pretty third year's head back so she could see the youngster's expression clearly for herself. Pausing for a moment as she fought with expectation, with dreadful consequence and the returning memory of past rejection, Yaya finally forced the words from her mouth. "Hikari," she began, her low tone riddled with the same mixed emotion she could see mirrored in the eyes staring back, "Why are you here?" she asked. "Why'd you really come back to Astrea?" And having finally processed the sentence, Hikari simply froze. - - - - - "Well you hardly could've gone there expecting it to be warm could you?" Momomi remarked sarcastically, the brunette's well manicured fingers weaving the telephone chord over and over, around and around in the air. She was lying on her back across the middle of her bed, her long slender legs curving up the wall with her rich, signatory brown locks splayed out and hanging loosely over the mattress edge into the space above the soft, deeply piled bedroom carpet below. Wearing a loose fitting beige t-shirt and tight khakis shorts, she considered her smooth bare thighs with a critical eye, the fifth year checking carefully for unsightly blemishes and flaws. Less than unsurprisingly of course, she couldn't find a single one to speak of. Spacing out when her mocha coloured eyes reached the pastel cotton socks that were busy keeping her feet warm and lost very much in the proceedings of the long distance telephone call she was making, the Spican senior hardly noticed as the housemaid knocked briefly before scurrying across the centre of the room, glancing across apprehensively before leaving the fifth year her early-evening coco atop the wide mahogany writing desk that lay situated at the other end of the chamber. Waving vaguely at the edgy Taiwanese servant, she continued her conversation with ambivalent nonchalance. "And what exactly is that supposed mean?" she sighed, stretching the chord back and forth in wide side to side motions while she awaited the forthcoming reply. "Oh you're simply no fun anymore," she exclaimed with a sudden giggle, her playful tone suggesting there was much more to her opening reprimands than had been immediately obvious. Letting the wire go with a ping, she stretched her free hand out lazily into the void beside the bed, her back half arching but unable to do so fully because of her current and awkward posture. She shuffled about restlessly in an attempt at making herself more comfortable. "Well, it's about time anyway," she said in an assertive voice, her tone then dropping further toward dismissive and stale. "Things are hardly in any state to rejoice over." Taking a deep breath, she paused briefly before cutting in over the other respondent's turn to speak. "Oh stop it. She's turned into the spineless wonder, chasing around after Amane no differently to the rest of them. I don't know who's worse, her or Shion," she sighed, adding with a less than enthusiastic undertone, "And we can all guess who that pointless individual will be nominating when it comes to the matter of choosing her successor." Momomi sighed again, pushing herself up onto her elbow, her legs slipping down the embossed satin wallpaper and curling across the bed covers as she righted onto one side. "Well you were right, are you happy now?" she snapped. "I should have listened to you before you left, and yes, I'm sure your sister will find this all absolutely hysterical. Now how about you come back so we can fix all this? I'm sick and tired of being embarrassed and I can hardly contest the instatement without a partner can I?" There was another long pause, and this time the Kiyashiki-girl seemed to be concentrating intently. She rolled over onto her tummy, her feet hanging in the air above her rounded posterior. "And your flight gets in when?" she asked, straining for the appointment book she'd left lying on her bedside table. "Uh huh," she muttered, grasping the tome from its resting place, scribbling something in pencil against a date a few days shy of New Years Eve. "And they've confirmed you can start straight away? They're not making you wait for the end of the academic year?" she asked. Finally alight with triumph, the young woman beamed at the reply. "You're a life saver Makoto," she grinned, "I just hope this whole mess proves what a waste of time your violin obsession turned out to be. I expect you back on form the minute you re-enter the gates, and I don't care how cold Russia was." There was another pause, and this time she laughed heartily, her eyes flashing with mischief as she finally let herself go. "And since when did I have a problem with that?" she asked, adding with a tellingly flirtatious undertone, "After all, I'm a free woman now, remember?"
Back to Strawberry Panic Anime Continuity FanFic Index - Back to Strawberry Panic Shoujo-Ai Fanfiction