"And the last thing I want to be thinking about right now is French!" the fourth year yelled, holding her hands up before her in exasperation. Realising to what degree she'd raised her voice, the young woman glanced back at the Dormitory wall behind her, the one bordering between Shizuma and Miyuki's rooms and lowered her tone as she turned back to her girlfriend and pleaded, "Please Shizuma, all I want right now is to curl up and forget the day. I've not seen you since breakfast..." Shizuma sighed and stared into Nagisa's sad brown eyes, the former-Etoile understanding the sentiment all too well but knowing she had to get the point across. She was struggling with her own revision as it was and knew something would have to give if she were to offer the tutorship Nagisa would need ahead of the end of year exams in spring. On top of everything else, the last thing either of them needed now was to worry about the new Etoile failing a paper. Nagisa stood in the middle of the room looking exhausted, the week since the coronation ceremony having flown by in a blur of ducking Tamao and trying to cope with Miyuki. It hadn't taken Nagisa long to settle into the routine as Etoile, drifting between lessons, paperwork and public duties, but the vast amount that she'd found crammed into her day was taking its toll, and on more than one occasion she'd crawled back to Shizuma's room only to collapse on their bed and fall asleep. At least now she finally had the weekend ahead of her, and unlike the previous weekend which had been swallowed up by Christmas Ball meetings and the council's frantic attempts to get preparations on track, this time she could at least hope for some time to herself with Shizuma. Nagisa had practically moved into the sixth year's room in an attempt to avoid the uncomfortable experience of being around her own room mate, also maximising what little time she shared with her fiancée. The matter of their rings was fast becoming public knowledge, but the boldness of Shizuma's actions kept discussions about the subject hushed and speculative, no one actually having the courage to openly ask questions for fear of landing the popular pairing in trouble. Could it be that someone had truly tamed the tempestuous former-Etoile enough for the flamboyant senior to start making life time commitments, and do so in the face of such total adversity? To be singled out and cared for so was every underclassman's dream, and as the new Etoile wandered the halls of Astrea, jealous eyes watched her everywhere she went, grasping for a glimpse of the infamous platinum band on her finger; the one connecting this year's transfer student to the most idolized woman in Miator. The silver haired sixth year on the other hand had found herself with far too much time on her hands, although none of it having been any use. The long minutes alone after meals waiting for her next lesson to start, or the hours of solitude in the Green House during the afternoons when Nagisa was busy in the council chamber stretched out as she waited for the evening and the opportunity to see the pretty red head again. With her time at Astrea almost drawing to a close, the upperclassman was becoming more and more insular, determined to concentrate on the young couple's future whilst avoiding as much of the school politics as possible. The last thing she wanted to do now was make things more awkward for Nagisa by contributing to her problems. The time alone was jarring though, and it felt like a return to her days prior to conceding the Etoile, minus the lonely nights spent gazing out at the moon. Even if Nagisa was little more than a zombie by the time she retired to Shizuma's room, the warmth and proximity of the young woman filled the former-Etoile with happiness and hope for the future. Leaving Astrea promised to be nothing like the ordeal it had been shaping up to be before speaking to her Mother the previous week. Shizuma rose from her seat at the study desk, crossing the room before taking Nagisa's hands in her own and holding the younger girl's gaze, her expression stern. She thumbed a wayward red strand from the pretty face looking up at her, and kissed the red head gently on the cheek. "I'd be lying if I said I was eager either my love, but a little before bed each night will do your grades the world of good. It won't take long, I promise." Nagisa sighed, seeing the sense in Shizuma's words but fighting it all the same. She was far too ratty and irritable to waste the remainder of the evening translating that horrible language. She pulled her hands away, hugging herself as she withdrew, "Not tonight Shizuma, please..." she said. The sixth year looked down at her with a sigh, "Nagisa honey, you need to stay on top of things or come March when all of these commitments - " The red head snapped at the word, "God please don't; you sound like Miyuki!" she yelled, and then stopped silent, Shizuma looking at her wide-eyed. With a deep breath the red head caught her rising anger and apologised quickly, "I'm sorry Shizuma-sama; I didn't mean to, I'm just tired." She stepped forward and curled her arms around the former-Etoile's waste, resting her head against the taller girl's shoulder. Shizuma looked down at her with sad eyes and comforted the sullen figure, kissing the crown of her head. Nagisa was sick of the duty line coming from the school council President next door and anything coming close put her on edge all too easily. She sighed heavily and whispered to her girlfriend, "Can't we just go to sleep tonight? I promise I'll do some tomorrow." Disappointed at herself for sparking the outburst, Shizuma's soft side took hold and she smiled at the fourth year wrapped around her with loving eyes, running a finger down Nagisa's cheek before whispering back, "I'll run us a bath?" To which Nagisa smiled wearily and nodded in agreement, tugging at the clasps on her uniform as she started to undress. Kissing the red head on the forehead, Shizuma disappeared into the bathroom to run the water, sprinkling a few drops of scented oil across the surface as it filled. She wiped a thin film of steam from the wall mirror, checking her face and removing her earrings before shaking out her long hair, tipping her head to one side to let it hang properly. Glancing back at the bath quickly, she gathered the silver strands so she could put them in a high plat, returning to the bedroom to fetch a hair clip. As she passed through the bath room door she turned to ask Nagisa for a hand, instead stopping mid-sentence. With a sigh of dismay she found herself greeted by the young red head's slender form curled up on the bed in nothing but her underwear, a peaceful look on her face, the fourth year fast asleep already. - - - - - For the first time in over a week Amane slowly descended the wide hallway stairwell to the dining hall corridor. Before she'd even made it to the bottom she was already receiving curious looks from the girls around her and the fifth year wondered whether it would be easier just to turn back now and buy something at recess later. She'd cut almost all of her classes since Hikari had left, spending as much time as possible riding and away from the other students. It made life easier being alone, although she knew all too well she was only getting away with it because most of the Sensei had spent the week wrapping up the term rather than teaching anything new or fundamental. If she continued this way come January however, she'd be in the Sister's office in a flash she thought. Thankfully, as she reached the landing and started towards the dining hall and breakfast, she found the unwanted attention ebbing away quickly, the girls being drawn instead to the stall next to the dining hall doorway; an assorted mass of uniforms queued on one side, with three black Miator dresses on the other as Chihaya and Mizushima stood selling tickets for the Ball, Tamao next to them with her back to the crowd as she placed a wall length poster advertising the event. Despite the lateness of the eventual announcement, tickets seemed to be selling quickly, and it was unlikely that the girls at the end of the snaking line would be served before having to take their place for breakfast ahead of the morning prayer. Amane dipped her head as she passed the stall, the Christmas event a nasty reminder that she no longer had anyone to attend it with, rubbed in by the sparkling blue necklace that caught the light as Tamao turned at the most inopportune moment as Amane passed her by. The two exchanged awkward glances before Amane disappeared into the breakfast hall, the venture away from her usual safety at the stables and the seclusion of her Dormitory already having reopened deep wounds which stung as much now as they had the day Sister Mizue had informed her Hikari was leaving. - - - - - Kizuna bounced on the spot and clapped her hands in glee. "Look Remon, they're selling tickets for the Ball!" she said, pointing down the hallway before her as the two girls passed through the fire door from the ground floor sleeping quarters. Grabbing her room mate by the sleeve she pulled the other second year through the crowd and towards the back of the long queue that had formed in the hall way, groping in her pocket to check she had her purse handy. Remon peered back over her shoulder across the rim of her glasses as the previously accompanying Kagome and Chiyo disappeared amongst the wall of uniforms milling about outside the Dormitory food hall. She tugged at the anxious Kizuna to slow down and wait, hoping the other two would see where they went. Catching Kagome's sweet face and pretty locks as she stepped through the antiquated fire door, she waved eagerly so the little first year could see her. Kagome waved back and pulled at Chiyo to follow, the tiny Miatorian stunned as the doors banged closed behind her and she took in the sight ahead. "All these people..." Chiyo mumbled as she eyeballed the long line trailing into the distance, her blue eyes wide. Intimidated, she glanced about as Kagome guided her towards the others. As the two first years reached the others at the back of the queue, Kizuna sulked in protest as Remon pulled her back a few places in the line so that the four could stand together. In a small voice which Remon strained to hear in the din of excited chatter around them, the Miatorian asked the older girls, "Is the Ball usually this popular?" Remon smiled fondly at the dark haired girl's nervousness and replied in an informed tone, "Last year almost everyone at the Dorms attended! I expect this year will be the same; we were just too late down to see everyone else waiting." Kizuna cut in, bouncing again as she bubbled over in excitement, "Oh, oh, and you should see how pretty everyone looks dressed up! I wonder what styles will be worn this year... I haven't even picked my own outfit yet." Remon poked the brown haired girl's navel and replied with a mock disgust, "You'll have to wear a tent with that tummy, you were far too eager in the Hot Chocolate and Cookies Club." Kizuna pouted and prodded her waist line in protest, "There's nothing wrong with my tummy; I only ate more because I'm a good girl the rest of the time. At least I don't fill my stuff face with biscuits whenever I'm reading fatso." She glared back and Remon adjusted her spectacles in mock distraction. "Have you picked a dress yet Kagome-chan?" Kizuna asked, changing the subject, blanking her room mate. The petite Lulim underclassman twisted her mousey curls as she considered the question, her deep green eyes swimming in the low light. "Kagome-chan was hoping to ask Chikaru-senpai what colour she was planning to wear before picking her own dress. She would be very happy to match Minamoto-sama if she gets the chance to dance with her." Remon and Kizuna traded smiles, prompting Chiyo to scowl before making her own contribution, "I won't be wearing a Ball dress this year; I have to remain in uniform. Because I'm room temp for the Etoile, President Rokujo put me in charge of supervising the stage for their formal dance at the beginning of the night. I don't suppose I'll have time for dancing when I'm so busy helping my onee-sama and Suzumi-san." The two second years rolled their eyes at the boast, although Remon was suitably impressed by the responsibility the Miatorian President had invested in her, having punished Chiyo only the previous week. Perhaps Miyuki had been feeling sorry for the first year when she was handing roles out she thought. Kagome smiled and replied, "Chiyo-chan will do a very good job I'm sure, she always does her best for Etoile-sama." Chiyo beamed at the compliment and feeling a little more reassured she peered around the tall fifth years in front of them, trying to glimpse the front of the queue and the desk that Chihaya and Mizushima were serving people from. She gulped and shrank back, returning to her small voice, she asked, "I wonder if we'll make it to the front before prayer?" - - - - - The dining hall was a chaotic mess of uniforms, the usually organized seating arrangements having fallen prey to the excitement of the ticket stall outside. Girls from different years and schools were thrown together as groups of friends gathered to discuss their dresses and chat eagerly about the weekend after next. Having been quickly cornered by one of the concerned catering staff who had queried the Spican's recent absence, Amane sighed in dismay when she finally escaped, having discovered that her usual spot by the far window was long gone; lost to some marauding Miatorian and Lulim girls who perched next to the Spican fifth years they socialised with. Looking around for somewhere else to sit, the failed Etoile lowered her eyes to avoid the curious stares her presence attracted, searching hurriedly for a free space. Rounding the corner of one of the long hardwood tables, she was surprised to find the one remaining table with empty seats was all but clear, bar the two white-clad girls huddled together in the very end places. Looking up at the individuals who were being seemingly avoided by the rest of the Dormitory, Amane's face dropped as she recognized Tsubomi's pink shock of hair, the first year's dark haired companion immediately obvious by association. Sat opposite her, one arm propping her head up, wearing a sullen expression to match her defeated posture was Yaya, the third year lost in thought and her partner nervously curling her colourful hair around her fingers in concern. The tall Spican looked around again for an alternative, but as the remaining places began to fill from the end of the table opposite the isolated pair, Amane realised she may as well take her place before she ended up sitting right next to them. Making sure she'd left some space between herself and the reclusive couple, Amane took her seat, nodding politely to the on-looking Tsubomi. "Good morning Okuwaka-san," she muttered quietly, prompting Yaya to look up, her sad face briefly written with surprise. But as her soft brown eyes glanced over the tired looking fifth year, her inward loathing caught hold again and she dropped her gaze, mumbling in reply as Amane repeated her greeting. For a moment, the three sat in awkward silence, Yaya's guilt trip freshly renewed and Amane struggling with the unwelcome reminder of her girlfriend's absence. It was only when the Spican upperclassman felt a soft grasp on her shoulder that she looked up from the neatly arranged crockery and silver cutlery in front of her, "Amane; I've been looking everywhere for you," came the husky voice, and the three turned as Shizuma Hanazono drew back one of the chairs between Yaya and Amane. Her emerald eyes full of concern, the former-Etoile sat gracefully, nodding quickly to the other two before turning to the fifth year, "I've not been able to find you anywhere since Coronation day; I've been worried sick, what happened to you?" Amane rested a hand on the black sleeve of Shizuma's forearm and replied with a fond expression, "My apologies Shizuma; I should have come to see you sooner. I needed some space though." She tipped her head and sighed, "I've been trying to avoid everyone for a bit and get my head together. Thank you for your concern though, and thank you again for trying to help." The Miatorian raised an eyebrow, prompting Amane to fill in the blanks, "Things didn't go so well at Hikari's. I wasn't coping when I got back." Shizuma was about to return comment, when a desperate sounding Yaya cut in, the young woman leaning across the empty seat between her and the Miatorian to gain their attention, "You went to Hikari's? What happened? Did you see her? Is she okay? Is she coming back? When - " Amane shook her head at the barrage of questions and Shizuma held the delicate fingers of her right hand up ominously, calling for Yaya to stop so that Amane could respond. The older Spican cupped her hands over her face for a moment, closing her eyes before taking a deep breath and turning to face the pensive third year. "I'm sorry, I didn't get to talk to Hikari; her parents wouldn't allow me to see her. They said she was ill but wouldn't discuss it any further." She looked sad, the pain of the experience still fresh, "They threatened to call the police if I didn't leave, so I can't tell you anymore than that." She dropped her brown gaze as she finished, and Yaya's shoulders slumped as she took in the response. It was Shizuma's words that filled the following silence, "So we still have no idea when she'll return..." she said, sighing herself at the news. Tsubomi followed the exchange intently, but remained quiet in the corner, torn between wanting to reach out a hand for the distraught third year opposite and the resentful annoyance that came with the mention of Hikari's name. Drama of one form or another always followed it, and she was jealous that even now, despite her absence, Yaya's room mate still had such a strong hold over the dark haired girl's state of mind. Tsubomi was sick of watching Yaya suffer, and along with Hikari's withdrawal from school, she now had the disapproval she'd received since the incident with Shion to add to her problems, Yaya having been almost completely socially excluded by her peers ever since. Shion's moods were barely tolerable at the best of times, but despite that her popularity and the loyalty of her following was unquestionable. Raising a fist to the sixth year had certainly not been a wise choice of moves. It was only the guilt generated by the tiny blonde's reaction to her and Yaya together that day at the Cathedral that kept Tsubomi's tongue in check; the memory of those shrill screams still unnerving the first year even now. "I hope she's alright," she muttered quietly, hiding the displeasure swimming in her pea-green eyes behind her long pink fringe. In the background there was a ripple of exaggerated hushing noises, and the dining hall started to quieten down, the mass of girls standing around or leaning over tables slowly taking their seats as the two Miatorian Etoiles appeared at the front of the room to give prayer. Shizuma straightened up to make sure Nagisa could see her and smiled fondly, one hand reaching to play with the platinum band on her finger. Just as the final few students took their seats, the tall figure of Kaname Kenjo slid into the spare seat next to Tsubomi, her dark eyes twinkling as she took in her company, "Well now, isn't this cosy," she remarked, and flashed a smirk before the girls dipped their heads as Tamao begun the Prayer. Moments passed as the dark haired Etoile recited the verse, the catering staff shuffling around quietly to catch up on serving, having delayed bringing breakfast out to allow the council assistants to process the queue outside. As soon as Tamao retook her seat, Shizuma looked up in curiosity, "You're missing something Kenjo-san?" she asked with a frown, adding for clarity, "around 150, 155? Brunette, pouts a lot lately?" Kaname's lips formed her crooked smile and she replied in a flat tone, "Hmm, it seems I am yes." She shrugged, grimacing slightly before adding, "Yeah, I know what you mean about the pout. It's becoming something of an annoyance that." She snorted, tipped her head and then continued matter-of-factly in her usual sultry tones, "I guess we're not doing so well these days. I left her in our dormitory sulking. You know; jealous angst and all that," after which she added with an evil grin, "but then, I couldn't be in better company for discussing that topic could I..." Tsubomi caught a flash of something on Yaya's face and Amane looked away in avoidance. Kaname's sly smiled remained, "Although apparently I stand to be corrected; after all, here sits the woman claiming to have tamed the beast," with which Kaname looked meaningfully at Shizuma's left hand, the Miatorian still toying with her recently obtained piece of jewellery. Confused by the comment, Amane turned back to the conversation, "What do you mean by that Kenjo-san?" she asked, and she looked at Shizuma enquiringly having caught the direction of her fellow Spican's gaze. Kaname's dark eyes slanted in bemusement, "What? Did your time as a cave dwelling recluse go to your head? I told you the other day Amane." None the wiser, the equestrian super-student shook her head slowly, and even Yaya looked up in interest. Shizuma sat silent, not forthcoming in such crowded surroundings, which provided Kaname with a huge opportunity for amusement as she responded on the former-Etoile's behalf, not realizing the topic was so low key outside of school council circles. She waited a moment for the two women from catering staff to place the remaining dishes on the table, then when she was sure they were out of ear shot, she continued with vindictive glee, "It seems Hanazono-san's affection for the red-headed half of our new Etoile was understated even at your coronation Amane; that would be Nagisa's engagement ring she's wearing." Amane's jaw went uncharacteristically slack as recollection hit her and she remembered Kaname's off hand comment from the previous week. In her tiredness and disorientation she'd dismissed it as fresh produce from the Dormitory rumour mill, the tall Spican being her typically sarcastic self. But given Shizuma's stoic silence now, the words took a whole new meaning. Yaya's dark eyes lit up and Tsubomi sat forward, peering at the silver haired sixth year's cupped hands. Shizuma, expression set, continued to look directly at Kaname, her emerald eyes cold and failing to betray her reaction to having been put on the spot. Kaname grinned back, and smirked sideways at Amane, "Obviously the rest of us are doing something wrong," she grinned, then adding with surprisingly honest sentiment, "Although I can't say there's anyone that deserves the happiness more. Good luck to you both," she said, nodding toward Shizuma before leaning forward to begin loading her plate with food. Amane tried and failed to catch the former-Etoile's gaze, before gingerly lifting Shizuma's right hand away so she could see the ring on the Miatorian's left. "Shizuma?" she asked in surprise, shocked by her friend's bravado. "This is really true? You've actually been wearing that in school?" It was only then that Shizuma turned to respond, "You know what she means to me Amane. I can't risk losing someone else so dear to me." Catching the undercurrent in the upperclassman's words, Amane smiled, feeling both sympathy and a true warmth in her heart for the first time in what seemed like an age. Shizuma continued, "I was going to tell you on the day, but you were so upset when you came to my room I figured it was the last thing you needed to hear." Amane reached a hand out for Shizuma's and smiled, unexpected tears forming at the corner of her eyes, "No, not at all, I could have done with the good news." She pondered for a minute, adding wistfully, "I'm so happy for you both, even if I am a little confused. How are you intending to pull this off exactly?" Noting Amane's glazed eyes, Kaname tipped her fork in her fellow Spican's direction and muttered between mouthfuls, "Careful Amane; if you start bawling I might actually mistake you for being the girlie type." The words were laced with irony given their exchange the day Kaname had found the failed Etoile asleep in the stable boiler room, and Amane managed an awkward smile in reply. Bemused by the exchange, Shizuma's emerald eyes twinkled, "You know you're almost becoming tolerable of late Kenjo-san." Munching happily, the tennis champion retorted, "Personal revelation, there's better." She stopped midway through cutting a peace of bacon in two, then after a moment's consideration she added ominously, "And nothing worse..." When the comment was greeted by insightful silence, she glanced around briefly. Having decided she'd shared far too much of herself for her own comfort, she then layered her usual sarcasm over the top to keep face, "It seems you're the only one sat here not touched by young Konohana-san in one way or another Shizuma. You know, it's amazing how someone so one-dimensional has managed to fuck up so many people at once." The words provoked the expected response from almost everyone sat at the table listening, although the characteristically uncaring expression on Kaname's face had a transparent edge to it today. Perhaps she was mellowing in her old age she thought in bemusement, before opting to let the thought slide, returning her attention to her food instead. The girls sat quietly for a while as they followed suit, loading their own plates and beginning to eat. Yaya went back to her own internal distractions, and Amane's attention switched between the much needed meal and the platinum band on Shizuma's finger, the ring catching the light from time to time as the Miatorian ate. Then as the Kaname's sharp eyes caught the familiar figure of Momomi Kiyashiki as she appeared in the dining hall door way, the brunette's body language hostile and annoyed, Kaname sighed and tossed her knife and fork into the centre of her half emptied plate. She rose to her feet, looking down at Shizuma with an odd expression, "If you ever figure out whatever it is that you two have that the rest of us don't, feel free to cut me in eh, it'll save me all manner of trouble in the future." She smirked, nodding in the direction of Shizuma's engagement ring. "And good luck with that; I'm sure Miyuki will gain great amusement from butt fucking the pair of you every step of the way." She turned to Amane, grinning mischievously, "Good to see you up and about finally Ohtori-san. Come find me next time you fancy a game of tennis and we'll have to see if I was right in the boiler house," adding as she glanced towards the door, "might give the miserable cow something to finally smile about." Her lip curled again, after which she disappeared off towards the door, Momomi having spotted her as she stood, the brunette flouncing off into the corridor beyond with a scowl. Watching as Kaname began her pursuit in vain, the two former-Etoile exchanged bemused glances before continuing with their meal. - - - - - The cold air hit Amane's face as she left the Dormitory building, stepping out onto the stone- flagged pathway and down towards the Astrea Hill lake and the school grounds themselves. Despite hanging high and proud in the clear blue sky, the warm winter sun took several moments to catch up and relieve the unpleasant sensation from her lips and cheeks. The snows of the previous weeks hadn't reappeared, although the icy winds and freezing nights persisted. Unwelcome when travelling between lessons perhaps, but a boon for riding practice the fifth year thought, and she looked out across the skeletal shrubbery and frigid trees towards the paddocks at Spica. Catching the churned earth of the practice ring through the naked branches, she smiled half-heartedly. Despite lacking any real enthusiasm, riding had been a saving distraction, and Star Bride a valued companion. There is no judgement from the animal kingdom. No blame. No disapproval. As she wandered thoughtfully to class, her hands clasping her brown leather satchel before her, the young woman considered the revelation at breakfast. Between the haze of sleeping rough and the previous night's ordeal, Amane hadn't taken Kaname's comment seriously that morning in the boiler room. To see proof now that Shizuma was not only cementing her convictions for her relationship with Nagisa so formally, but also doing so in the scrutiny of the public eye thoroughly stunned the Spican. Such a bold move; so resolute and defiant. Surely the Sister and staff must know by now? God knows how the parents of the two girls would react, bringing such shame so openly to their family names. And then there was the matter of the school itself. Amane didn't know of a single occurrence at any of the top end schools where two same-sex students had declared a relationship formally; if the two Miatorians saw this through they'd definitely be setting a ground breaking precedent. So very bold. So typically Shizuma. She must adore Nagisa, Amane thought to herself. Absolutely worship her; to be so sure, so utterly certain to take those risks. The fifth year stopped, tipping her head back slightly to take in the wide Japanese sky above her. Lost in vertigo, her head swam and she wondered; had she ever felt that way about Hikari? But as the thought faded, she caught something else following it. Past tense. She paused. There it was. Finally. She sighed again and dropped her gaze to the ground, her dark bob falling forward to frame her face. Her eyes vacantly followed the pattern on the paving slabs of the pathway beneath her as she rolled the words over and over in her head. Had she? What would she have given if challenged to remain beside the young blonde underclassman? For moments the sullen figure considered the yawning autumn months; the long mornings in the paddock, Hikari stood at the tree line watching the older girl practice with Star Bride. The furtive glances across the dining hall, those big blue eyes staring up at her when they finally had their time alone together; the warmth of the tiny girl's embrace, her racing heart beat, the smell of her loosely curled hair... And that pretty smile; so adoring, so heart-warming, yet... Shame cut the images short. Flicking her head back, she stood stoic for a second, jaw set. Adoration. Youthful, confused adoration. And Amane had taken that and twisted it into something else. Despite Shizuma's dismissive words, the truth still cut true. Hikari was little more than a child. A hollow feeling inside, she took comfort in what the fifth year told herself was realism; would she have sacrificed her education and scholarship to remain beside Hikari? Could she have spat on her parent's values and risked their wrath? Would she brave the eyes of society and brush aside their judgemental gaze as gracefully as the Miatorian idol did so well; her aloof air and confident presence dismissing remarks before they could even be made... No. Of course not. Amane had neither the self-confidence nor the courage to step so far from the beaten path. Which meant that realistically, at least in the long run, there would only have been a single, predictable outcome for Hikari and herself. The same outcome there always is for people in their situation at school and University. Eventual, regretful, and painful separation. A return to the same mundane normality that every Japanese adult faces day to day as they graduate and join the real world. Marriage, responsibility, and social expectation. Sighing and hastening her pace the Spican student took consolation in the train of thought. She was no Shizuma, and Hikari was no Nagisa. The Spican couple's love, if you could even call it that, had never faced the same challenges that the Miatorian's had already survived. It was just a childish fancy that had turned into something almost perverse in nature that never should have been, and would never have had a future anyway. Why take those risks if it were only to end in disappointment and regret? At least in her place far away from the school, Amane could do her former-Etoilian partner no more harm; lead her astray no further. And as her skin warmed, a combination of her brisk pace and the brilliant disc shining above her, Amane tried to strengthen her resolve, caught somewhere between a returning sense of order after the long days of feeling lost, and a gut wrenching sense of loss that shadowed it. - - - - - As the dining hall cleared out, Nagisa watched in sliding dismay as Shizuma pointed to her wrist watch before gesturing apologetically and disappearing from her perch just outside the doorway. She waved solemnly across the wide dining room as she did, and Nagisa felt her heart sink as the silver flash of hair disappeared down the corridor. Shizuma had been waiting for the young Etoile to finish up so they could walk to lessons together, but as usual, Miyuki had found reason to delay her. Between the day's classes and the mountain of waiting paperwork, Nagisa knew that yet again it would probably be recess, if not dinner later that evening when the couple would next have a chance to be together. Stood at the head table alongside Tamao, Chihaya and Mizushima, Miyuki was discussing a discrepancy in the takings for the Ball tickets, the two fourth year's watching pensively as the school council President drummed neatly manicured fingernails across the wooden surface she was leant over. "And you both recounted for them?" Miyuki asked the Etoile, holding a wedge of bank notes in one hand and running the index finger of her other across the ledger lying on the table before her, meticulously checking the totals neatly scrawled across the page. When Nagisa failed to reply, Tamao glanced up to see her room mate staring across the hall and offered, "Nagisa recounted Rokujo-san; I watched her do it." The fourth year's voice was quiet, the dark haired Etoile sensing another lecture forthcoming. Miyuki turned back from the table and sighed. "I asked you both to double check did I not?" Tamao nodded, and when Nagisa failed to respond, Miyuki repeated herself, "Did I not?" With an inward sigh, Nagisa turned from the open door way to face the sixth grader with down turned eyes. "Yes you did Rokujo-san," she replied flatly, and Chihaya and Mizushima exchanged glances, sensing Nagisa's mood. Those closest to the Miatorian council and the council members themselves were becoming increasingly accustomed to seeing Miyuki lose her temper with the young red head, the council President apparently struggling to focus the new Etoile. Her attitude towards Tamao remained pleasant and courteous as she would typically behave with everyone else, but her interactions with Nagisa were becoming increasingly uncomfortable to observe, prompting Hitomi and Mizuho in particular to question Miyuki's motives. But no matter how awful Miyuki might be acting toward her, there was no denying Nagisa's lack of conviction for the role, and for now that stayed everyone's tongues. It would be hard to stand up for Shizuma's girlfriend when she seemed so disinterested in helping herself, the upperclassman making mistake after mistake in her half-baked attempts to keep up. So with no one speaking out and no one to rein Miyuki in, the relationship between Miator's President and the red headed Etoile was at best ice cold, at worst openly dictatorial and hostile. Noting the response, Miyuki begun the morning's sermon, "There are two Etoile for a reason Nagisa. What do you think that reason might be?" The atmosphere already prickly, Miyuki's expression was set, her tone patronizing, and when Nagisa failed to raise her gaze or answer the question, Miyuki scowled at the young woman before her, "Support Nagisa; it's that simple. The Etoile are there to help one another, to support one another, to guide one another's judgement, and most importantly in this case; to check each other's work." The sixth year waved the wedge of notes and snapped, "It's spot on; there's nothing missing at all. This means both the count and your recount were out and given your mind is obviously elsewhere as usual, it's no wonder you didn't pick up on their mistake when you were recounting for them. You've left these poor girls standing around petrified because of your distraction, which is exactly why I wanted Tamao to double check you." Nagisa felt a spark of anger flicker inside; Miyuki had spent ten minutes carefully going through the figures after recounting the money herself the second she'd joined them when Tamao had reported the variance. Despite taking so long to vocalise the conclusion, she must have known that the money was fine almost immediately. The book work was just for show and to act as a delay. Nagisa was vexed, and the pretty Etoile bit her lip to avoid snapping, knowing all too well that Miyuki had only wasted those extra minutes to make sure Shizuma had gone so the fourth year couldn't accompany her to class. She wanted to rage, to let fly at the pompous cow before her, but knew the aftermath would only make her life harder in the long run. Since the emotional landslide at the coronation ceremony, she hadn't the stomach for open confrontation with the older student, and instead Nagisa simply nodded politely, offering, "My apologies Rokujo-san; I was simply trying to save time." The words stung as Nagisa pushed herself to deliver them; the constant barrage she was forcing herself to take from Miyuki nagging at her in the form of self-loathing and defeatism. She found herself wondering who the amazing young woman Shizuma kept referring to was, since she was increasingly certain it couldn't be her. Miyuki rolled her eyes disapprovingly and replied, "You'd find this much easier if you just did as I told you Nagisa. I've been partner and support to Astrea's Etoile for longer than you've even attended the school, let alone my time on the council prior to that; I would have thought you knew when to acknowledge someone more informed than yourself." Nagisa grimaced inwardly, noting the subtext and having wondered how long it would take the sixth former to slide some form of reference to her history with Shizuma into the lecture. She sighed and nodded in submission, wishing she could just slap the girl and walk off. One more week she told herself. Satisfied that she'd have freshly renewed her dominancy over Nagisa, Miyuki nodded to the waiting fourth years, Chihaya and Mizushima setting about tiding up the paperwork and equipment they'd used for the stall. At the same time, Miyuki rolled up the takings before putting them into a cloth currency bag, intent on giving it to the Sister for storing in the office safe. "Thank you for your help this morning Noriko-san, Takemura-san. My apologies if we made you both feel uncomfortable whilst checking the takings; I'm sure you understand it was of no reflection to yourselves. You worked hard under awkward conditions this morning, mistakes were more than possible and school finances require us to be thorough." She tipped a head to Tamao, adding before she left, "It's not just herself she's letting down like this Suzumi-san. As well as the students, she's placing more burden on you than you deserve from this partnership. Remember that next time she's off daydreaming." Accepting Tamao's polite nod of acknowledgement, Miyuki strode off towards the doorway, her black dress rustling softly as she walked. Chihaya had a sorry look in her eyes, recognizing the guilt trip from the school council President, although Mizushima had been glancing regularly at the wall clock knowing she was becoming increasingly late for an Archery team meeting. Snapping at Nagisa in her low tones the purple haired girl asked, "Can't you let go for two minutes Nagisa? Are you really that insecure about Shizuma's feelings for you?" Noting the disapproving scowl that crossed her room mate's face following the outburst, Mizushima hid hers behind her dark purple bob and gathered the last of her things. "I just think you could make this a lot easier on yourself," she said more reasonably, then followed after Miyuki, Chihaya shrugging sympathetically in consolation as she trailed behind. Tamao had remained silent as she watched the exchange, stood next to the edge of the table, now rolling the sapphire gem hanging around her neck between her fingers for comfort. She sighed softly. "I dislike the way she talks to you Nagisa-chan. It's not fair that she's so mean to you." The pretty fourth year reached a hand out and gingerly stroked the red head's shoulder. "I don't think you're letting anyone down; I know how hard this is for you." Her blue eyes passing over Nagisa, she smiled hopefully, gentle fingers reaching out to offer her usual support. The red head snapped back protectively, "I'm just fine Suzumi-san," she muttered, before picking up her satchel from its place leaning against the table leg. Shouldering it and straightening her uniform out, she stepped away from Tamao's touch. "We're late ourselves now, we should go." Tamao sighed at the increased physical perimeter Nagisa had taken to maintaining around herself, and nodded her response. "Yes we are. Did you manage the French homework okay?" she asked, attempting to defuse the situation. Nagisa's faced blanched as the unfinished summary flashed back into her mind, but as the pair headed to the door, heels clipping on the polished wooden floorboards, she took the lead to hide her exasperated expression from her room mate. She kicked herself for forgetting it, having meant to finish the work the previous evening before going to bed. She'd had fallen asleep instead; the task being the source of her conversation with Shizuma about revision. Not interested in opening the door for Tamao to spark up prying conversation she simply murmured a non-committal response. Changing the subject, Tamao continued, "You know; that dress I got in town isn't nearly formal enough for the Ball now that we've become Etoile. You and I should go shopping again soon to make sure we match." Her blue eyes sparkled, "Perhaps you'll let me help you choose something pretty?" she said, doing her best to avoid the mental images of Nagisa trying on various outfits for her. The red head continued in silence, offering Tamao first use of the door. "Uh huh..." she mumbled, coolly watching as the dark haired girl crossed her path. Taking the hint, Tamao fell into silence as the pair continued up the corridor towards the main exit, the fourth year content to bide her time, hoping for another chance to draw the pretty upperclassman out of her shell later. - - - - - Yaya leant heavily on the dormitory door as she pushed it to, using the soft grained wood as a prop as if it could hold her heavy heart up. She stood for a moment, the hard surface cool on her skin in the warmth of the Dorms, closing her eyes, thankful for the silence within. After the noise of the breakfast hall, the constant chatter and viscous eyes that betrayed accusing thoughts brewing behind them, the constant presence of Tsubomi at her side and its nagging effect on her conscience, the dark haired Spican felt she could finally think. Not peace, not solace; something else. Clarity perhaps? She chewed her lip in agitation. In retrospect, having been largely confined to her room by Sister Mizue seemed almost like an act of mercy. She pushed away from the door and crossed the empty room to the window sill where her laptop lay, opening the shell and thumbing the machine into life. As the mechanism chattered away, she wandered back towards her newly appropriated desk mirror, looking at the sullen face staring back, long black hair framing it. A pathetic pout of sorts hung her across her lower lip, and she snorted in contempt. "Yaya Nanto, you look fucking awful," she muttered, as if the glassy image were about to reply in protest. She gathered the heavy black strands of hair in one hand, twisting them round into a high top knot where she held them briefly, the skin on the back of her neck able to breath, cherishing the kiss of cool air and the relief it brought. Hearing the laptop chime in readiness, she let her hand go, the black blur settling into the same dark shroud that she now used to hide her face from the peering eyes of society. Wallowing in self-pity and an unavoidable emptiness beneath it, she flicked through her digital music collection, looking for one artist in particular. She'd hated this, Yaya thought to herself with a wry smirk. The mix of classic and fringe had been unbearably unacceptable to her purist blonde dormie, and the two girls had regularly bickered over whether or not it was 'proper' music. Manipulating the player through slanted coal eye lashes, Yaya thumped the touch pad to start the track, pushing the dial on the speaker well past polite and considerate. As the haunting intro floated through the room, Yaya closed her eyes, waiting for the guitars and pitch perfect operatics to kick in, pounding the floor boards and assaulting the windows as they did. Stood still in a tornado of soprano, dirty riffs, strings and bass, she let the heavy slab sealing the tomb in her chest loose, releasing the gut wrenching torrent she'd been denying all morning. The wall of emotion washed over her as tears sprang to her eyes, a sneer twisting her soft lips, turning into a snarl as she clenched her fists and with a single, gasping breath, screamed as loudly as her burning lungs would allow her. - - - - - "Miyuki-sama and Shizuma-sama look very pretty all dressed up," Chikaru offered in a tiny voice, perched on the edge of Miyuki's bed. She cradled the fluffy tiger in her lap, stroking her hands across it as she watched the two third years prepare for their evening. The Miatorian room mates were busy adjusting their hair and make up, Shizuma putting her long silver mane into its top knot while Miyuki was fumbling with her eye liner in the dimly lit dormitory. The room was cold and dark, the single bulb hanging from the ceiling not providing anywhere near enough illumination to work by. The French school they were visiting was almost medieval in both feel and facility. "I wish I could go to the Ball too," Chikaru continued in a small voice, sounding disappointed. "I like dressing up. My Mom used to help me make all kinds of costumes before I left for Astrea Hill." Shizuma smiled fondly at the dreamy second year, noting with a wry after-thought the relationship, or more correctly, the lack of relationship that she shared with her own mother. The tiny Lulim girl had grown on Shizuma during her brief stay with the two third years, and the Miatorian underclassman would be sad to see less of her on their return to Japan. "I'm sure you'd look radiant Chikaru-chan," she said, adding with a playful grin, "just like dear Miyuki. Doesn't she look amazing Chikaru? She'll be the talk of the Ball!" Miyuki felt her cheeks grow warm and pretended to miss the comment as she concentrated on getting the balance between too little and too much right in the appalling light; she already felt uncomfortable in the daringly provocative dress as it was; the last thing she needed now was to misjudge her make up and cross the fine line bordering sensual and down right cheap. The Hanazono girl grinned at the feigned ignorance and tipped her head to better regard her room mate's figure. She considered the dark haired girl and the satin blue material she was wrapped in through low eye-lashes, the shimmering dress clinging to Miyuki's skin. "I'll be the envy of Astrea with you on my arm tonight Rokujo-san," she stated with false formality. The school council assistant paused, her eye liner hovering next to her cheek, the hand mirror she grasped in the other hand held high to conceal her face. She closed her eyes briefly, attempting to regain her composure. Shizuma's attentions were distractingly direct, and Miyuki had spent the evening of preparation overwhelmed by her response to them, the warm glow of vodka from the half-bottle Shizuma had smuggled into the school with her for the leaving party compounding matters. Miyuki considered in flustered recollection how she'd seen the pleasant unrest coursing through her now mirrored by so many of Shizuma's younger pursuits back in the Dorms. Presumably fuelled by the forthcoming social performance Shizuma had planned having seen Miyuki's potential attire for the Ball earlier in the week, the emerald-eyed tease had spent the days since seeing the dress all over Miyuki; lewd comments, suggestive grins and wild excitement abound. The usually refrained and resolute Miyuki had never been so completely on the receiving end of the Hanazono experience before, and found herself swept along with the tide, left permanently self-conscious with fuzzy cotton-wool for a brain. So this is how it feels to be wooed by the tempestuous Miatorian is it? She shook her head gently as she reopened her dark eyes. "I'm sure everyone will be too busy looking at you as per usual Shizuma. I doubt there's a single girl from our year here that you've not chased around the Dormitory at one point or another." Miyuki pondered whether she'd caught bitter sentiment in that last statement, and continued more carefully, trying to avoid sounding resentful, knowing it would only make Shizuma worse. "I doubt anything could distract them from their race for your continued attentions." Shizuma's lip curled as she watched Miyuki squirm, "And imagine how crushed they'll be when they see you tonight my dear," she shot back with glee, grinning like a cheshire cat who's paw rested firmly on it's dinner's tail. Standing, she finished up with her hair, finally satisfied it was firmly in place. She tipped her head back slightly to let it settle, and then moved to perch on the edge of the bed the two Miatorians had been sharing. Slipping her heels on, she glanced up as she tightened the delicate leather straps, catching Chikaru staring at her from her place curled up on the opposite bed. The little second year had been watching the exchange intently. "Chikaru-chan?" she asked, puzzled by the piercing brown gaze. Chikaru, peering back from behind her long dark hair and cute red bows replied softly, "You look so happy Shizuma-sama," she explained. Miyuki turned from her mirror, confused by the unexpected statement. Chikaru continued, "You too Rokujo-sama. You both look really happy." And as the tiny Lulim girl stroked the two-tone fur of the fluffy tiger lying on the bed next to her, she added, "I wish I had someone I was such good friends with." - - - - - The shrill ring of the school bell released Nagisa from Math, and with an air of purpose she strode from the Moon group classroom, racing down the hallway towards the exit. She had a good fifteen minutes before French; more than enough to grasp a few moments with Shizuma in the seclusion of the Green House. Nodding curtly to her fellow Miatorians as they greeted the red-headed Etoile in the corridor, the slender fourth year gripped her satchel awkwardly in one hand while she checked her hair and adjusted her uniform on the way, catching her reflection in one of the painted partition windows as she passed. She grinned, the thought of Shizuma's touch bringing a smile to her lips, switching the satchel back to both hands, rolling her engagement ring on her finger, reassured by the caress of the smooth metallic surface. "Etoile-sama?" For a second she missed the soft call, and it was only the second attempt that sprung Nagisa from her little world, "Uh, Etoile-sama? I have a message for you!" The fourth year stopped in her tracks, sighing heavily before she turned to greet the expectant face behind, her chest rising and falling from the exertion of trying to escape the building so quickly. "I'm sorry, you needed me?" she replied politely. The first year dipped her gaze politely and beamed at being addressed by one of such importance. Nagisa grimaced at the convention. "Is there something you needed?" she asserted. The youngster was in no hurry to end the experience. Righting herself she took a moment to regain her composure, holding a polite pose and tripping over her words as she replied, "Uh, Etoile-sa, Etoile-sama. President Rokujo asked me to find you after class." The upperclassman snorted inwardly. Typical, she thought to herself. "She requests you accompany her in the main hall," then with excitement the first tiny brunette added in a hushed voice, "I think they're beginning to decorate for the Ball today." Nagisa bit her lip to avoid snapping, nodding respectfully before dismissing the girl. "Thank you for your time, you should go to your next class now," she said, trying not to sound too blunt. Heart sinking, and knowing that once again she would have to wait until the evening to see her silver-haired fiancée, the new Etoile wheeled and headed toward Miator's banquet hall. - - - - - The Miator main hall was a grand affair, constructed almost a century before along with the majority of the original building. The great vaulted ceiling and intricate chandeliers had withstood the test of time, retaining all of their beauty and grace from an era long gone, proudly maintained by the Sisters and the staff over the years. The detailed wooden-panelled walls were draped with antiquated tapestries featuring school insignia and class emblems, mirroring the same gothic style that defined the uniform and official seal, bordered by numerous paintings of establishment founders and contributors. The vast tiled floor featured complex patterns and designs, a huge green Miatorian herald adjoining the stage area, situated directly below and in front of the wide balcony over-hang, under which were rows of wooden pews, separated into ranks by intricately carved pillars that held the balcony aloft. Dotted across the room were various figures from the Miator student council, the new Etoile as well as various assistants and additions from the Christmas Ball team that Miyuki had put together, each going about different tasks and preparations, ranging from adjusting the lighting rig and speakers to arranging the stage and the beginnings of the floral display across the back where the celebratory banners would hang. The construction of which involved several long rolls of soft yellow fabric which lay sprawled across the floor while a consternated looking Mizushima debated heatedly with her room mate as to how to go about cutting them to size. Into this mess stepped a wide-eyed Kagome and the bemused Chikaru, the two Lulim girls having come to liaise with Miyuki as she organized the group into action. "Kagome-chan has never seen the Miator hall before; it's very impressive Chikaru-senpai," she said in a small voice, her pupils huge in the dim light as she looked around, her tiny features dwarfed by the grand chamber. Chikaru smiled, and tipped her head as she replied to the first year in hushed tones, "Going back many years, when Miator was a still convent, the nuns used to eat here every night. The stage was once an altar, and if you look carefully, you can see where it's been built up to protect the original stone work," the fifth year explained, smiling at the engrossed brunette as she followed Chikaru's out stretched hand, her slender finger pointing at the panelled woodwork. Kagome looked up at the Lulim council president in awe. "Chikaru-sama knows something about everything!" she offered politely. The older girl chuckled softly in reply and shook her head, which prompted Kagome to nod enthusiastically. Rather than get into a debate on the issue, Chikaru looked up, greeting a busy looking Miyuki who stood amongst a flock of black uniformed girls she'd been addressing, "Good afternoon Rokujo-san. I have those figures for you." Then with a pleasant smile she placed a fond hand on Kagome's shoulder, "I hope you don't mind me bringing my new assistant; I know how secretive you've been of this year's Ball." Miyuki nodded respectfully and waved a hand in dismissal. "Of course not Chikaru," she replied, "after the work she did on the election programs she's more than welcome." She then stepped away from the others, leading the Lulim girls to one side to talk privately. "So how do we stand Minamoto-san?" she asked. Chikaru drew a well used notepad from her uniform pocket and flicked to the appropriate page. "Just over five hundred thousand yen as of this morning, so well on our way for matching last year," the fifth year answered. Miyuki nodded approvingly, but before she could reply she was cut short, the chamber echoing a howling Chihaya as she berated her room mate, the pair stood either side of a long stretch of yellow cloth. "Are you dumb woman? Did your mother drop you too many times?" she screamed, nursing a finger and battering Mizushima across the back with her other hand. Her purple haired companion scowled back, scissors in one hand, a long length of banner fabric in the other. "Well if you'd just hold it straight I could see where I was cutting!" Miyuki's jaw set and her nostrils flared in annoyance as her chest rose to draw breath. But just as she stepped forward, intending to dress the two down, Kagome's tiny voice chimed up from beside her. "Kagome-chan is wondering why you don't both use the trellis tables in the corner over there. It would be much easier if you drew the cloth across and cut it with a rotary cutter." Miyuki stopped in her tracks and looked with a cocktail of agitation and amusement as Kagome set about organizing the two fourth years as though she were talking to a pair of simpleton kindergarten students. "That way, you could both be preparing banners at the same time and you'd get them all made in half the time. Kagome-chan thinks that if you ask Etoile-sama Tamao-chan nicely she might lend you her cutter; I saw she had one when we were making cards for the Etoile election, and I know Chikaru-sama has one in her embroidery kit too." Then in clarification she added in a faltering voice, "Kagome-chan meant the first Election Ceremony, not the second," before curtseying politely to Nagisa and Tamao in flustered respect, "Kagome-chan apologizes Etoile-sama." She then stood for a moment, a slack-jawed Mizushima and Chihaya frozen mid-argument, staring back at the tiny brunette next to them. All heads having turned, the Hall fell into stunned silence. It was the musical sound of Chikaru's laughter that eventually broke it. Miyuki, quickly recovering from her own smirk to save face, snapped her fingers in response, "Well you two! What do you think you're playing at? Do as Byakudan-san says, she's obviously more capable of organizing the task than the pair of you upperclassmen!" Chikaru, eyes betraying her smile despite her renewed self-control, beckoned her first year assistant back to her side. Grinning again, she leant forward to cup the young girl's face adoringly. "A very sensible suggestion Kagome-chan," she said quietly, her long black hair falling forward. Jolted into action by Miyuki, the two Miatorian fourth year's hurried off in different directions, Chihaya setting about erecting the tables while Mizushima, still clutching her finger, deftly caught the Dormitory keys that Tamao had thrown to her from atop the foot ladder she was using to hang posters with Nagisa, the purple haired girl then heading toward the double doors beyond. Calling after her Miyuki added sarcastically, "And make sure you go to the infirmary so the nurse can inspect that finger, presuming you can remember where it is!" Mizushima answered with a snort which she hoped the school council President hadn't heard from so far away. The heavy doors swung widely as she stormed through them. Jaw still set, Miyuki passed her gaze across the rest of the room to make sure everyone else had returned to work, before turning to little Kagome who huddled next to Chikaru defensively, having realised she'd spoken out too boldly. Miyuki let her expression relax and smiled at the first year. "You're becoming quite an asset aren't you little one." And then betraying a soft side that very few were privileged to witness, she knelt before the obviously intimidated underclassman, straightening the young girl's tunic tie with a motherly flourish. With an idle tone she shared an observation quietly with the brunette, "You remind me of a young lady I had the pleasure of travelling with not so many years ago; she was just as practical and quick thinking when we'd pried her out of her shell too." Dark eyes sparkling, the school council President smoothed the checked fabric of the Lulim girl's uniform and smiled up at her peer, Chikaru catching the comment and nodding in appreciation. Looking back at Kagome, the senior continued, "Through her hard work and dedication, it wasn't long before she attained great standing at her school. I think if you continue the way you are currently Byakudan-san, you'll follow her footsteps in just the same manner." Wondering what had gone between the two older girls, the first year's gaze switched between the two faces with a puzzled expression, and then remembering her place, Kagome replied politely, "Thank you Rokujo-sama, that is very kind of you." Reaching down and squeezing Kagome's hand, Chikaru whispered that it was time to go. "I hope the evening is a productive one Rokujo-san," she said, bidding her fellow Presidential colleague a good evening before setting off for the exit, a wide smile still spread across her pretty face. - - - - - It had been one of other Deux class girls that had nudged Tsubomi in the corridor, worried that the music pounding all afternoon from Yaya's dormitory would only land the third year in more trouble with the Sister. Concern gripping her, the young Spican had hurried off to check on Yaya, her pink hair exploding messily in her haste as she took the steps in the Dormitory entrance-way two at a time. The week since the fight with Shion hadn't become any less awkward as time passed, and not only did Tsubomi find herself in the god awful position she was in with Yaya, but she also found herself trying to deal with the disapproving scowls from her fellow students for associating with the school trouble maker. After all, why would anyone want to talk to someone prepared to strike the school council President? Was Tomori-san actually capable of doing anything that might deserve such rash action? If only they knew how involved the first year and Yaya actually were, Tsubomi sighed to herself. Then they could shove their judgemental looks up each other's arses. Flicking her fringe from her eyes as she reached the door, the underclassman was taken back by the sheer volume of the music coming from the third year's Dorm; a weird mix of opera and rock that only Yaya's warped sense of taste would find palatable. Such a fuck up Tsubomi thought to herself, and having made a mental note to reintroduce the girl to some respectable R&B, the Spican knocked on the door in vain. There was no way Yaya would be able to hear her over the music she thought, and reached for the door handle instead. Hopefully it would be open, though knowing her luck... The door clicked softly, and drawing it back, Tsubomi berated herself for being such a pessimist, and peered into the rumbling noise beyond. The room was dark, the curtains drawn, hiding the late afternoon dusk, a desk lamp shining in the corner over one of the twin beds where the huddled form of the raven haired third year lay. Tip toeing across the room, Tsubomi fumbled briefly until she'd dropped the volume dial considerably to appease the other residents, hoping it wasn't too late to avoid another trip to the Sister's office. Turning back to gaze across the room, the first year looked with dismay at the young girl lying prone opposite her. Journal sprawled underneath her lithe form, Yaya had obviously fallen asleep doing her class work. The younger Spican crept forward, her white trainers forgiving the odd misstep as she dodged the mess of clothes and valuables strewn across the floor, making her way to the bed side. She looked down fondly, considering Yaya's long black hair, its shining strands hiding her face. So pretty, Tsubomi thought to herself. She'd always been jealous of the older girl's hair; it was so much thicker and well behaved than the first year's pink locks. So much for the all-new, ultra-caring hair dye she was using she thought. Leaning forward, she peered in curiosity to see what Yaya had been doing, reaching a hand out gingerly to draw aside the charcoal flow of hair that partially covered the page. Her heart jumped as she brushed Yaya's hair back behind her ear, revealing thick streaks of mascara that betrayed long dried tears, the trail running the length of the third year's cheeks and onto the page beneath her. Breath completely still, a horrible feeling rising in her chest, Tsubomi felt her heart slide as she tipped her head, following the black lines onto the paper lying underneath the young woman she cared for so deeply. Scrawled across the page in heavy bold letters were the words, "I miss you so much," the pen that drew them still clutched subconsciously in Yaya's slender hand. - - - - - "Shizuma?" came the smooth tones of Miator's school council President. In the silence of the Green House, the evening air still besides the soft whistle of the wind in the glass doorway, Miyuki might well have shouted the words aloud, Shizuma's emerald eyes widening in surprise as she knelt behind an obscuring line of plants. What on earth was she doing here? the former-Etoile asked herself, her gaze lost on the brickwork before her. Recovering her composure, Shizuma stood gracefully, smoothing her apron out as she rose to her feet, her silver hair tumbling into place across her shoulders. "Rokujo-san? What brings you here?" she asked, her tone low and level, not betraying her confusion. She was tired after a long day of revision and the yawning solitude that came with tending the Green House alone; the last thing she needed now was a shouting match. But the school council President must have a motive for visiting, she thought. That or something had happened to Nagisa, a possibility which only unnerved the former-Etoile further. "I would have thought that despite everything of late Shizuma, after so many years together the formality was unnecessary?" Miyuki replied, looking up with a similarly neutral expression at her former room mate from the pathway beneath the high table area where Shizuma had been working. The silver haired sixth year shifted her gaze slightly, then repeated her question, uncomfortable but giving as much as the statement asserted her former-room mate deserved, "Is there something I can do for you Miyuki?" she asked. The school council President climbed the steps to the table platform, her black sleeved arms crossed behind the back of her soft Miator uniform. Brushing her dark bob back behind one ear, she looked at the earth-covered trawl and the plant pot Shizuma had been using it to prepare, the items resting on the floor where she'd left them. Deep brown gaze snapping into focus on the young woman's face, Miyuki replied, "I thought I might come by to check on the flowers; we'll be needing them shortly for the bouquets and arrangements," she explained. And after a pause, she continued, "I'm also aware that you've been alone in here often this past week. Although it was by design, I didn't want you to feel completely isolated again." Dipping her eyes she added to finish, "Not so soon after coming out of your shell." Shizuma stood stoic, her face chiselled from marble; cold and static. What in god's name was she up to? The emerald-eyed Miatorian breathed deeply before gathering her reply carefully, caught off guard by the council President's appearance and the passive tone that she'd presented herself with. "That would seem, uncharacteristically friendly Miyuki," she said, and then noting a pang in her stomach, she added out of guilt, "at least of late." Miyuki's eyes twinkled in the low light, and she moved to sit at the table, her hands resting on the cold metal-work. "That would be a fair comment," she said calmly, surprising Shizuma further by avoiding the obvious trigger laid before her. A trigger that the previous week's Miyuki would have merrily seized as an opportunity for insults and the beginnings of a blazing row. Shizuma was perplexed, but unwilling to reveal herself as such and appear vulnerable, the former-Etoile joined Miyuki at the table, removing her gardening gloves carefully before placing them tidily on the patterned surface in front of her. The council President continued. "I should apologise for my tone at the Ceremony Shizuma, it was uncalled for." She smiled weakly, the expression appearing perfectly genuine to Shizuma's scouring gaze, the emerald-eyed senior regarding her fellow Miatorian with guarded disbelief and doubt. "I shouldn't have trivialised something that obviously means so much to you, regardless of the wisdom that may have led to it." Miyuki was quick to continue before Shizuma could object and read the comment as inflammatory, "You're very committed to your choices, I respect that." Unsure where the game was leading, the former-Etoile sat silent. Miyuki bowed her head, and knowing not to play into Shizuma's hands as she had so many times before over the years, remained quiet, avoiding being trapped into talking to fill the pause for fear of giving herself away. For a moment, the girls sat in thought, mentally positioning in the awkward situation before them. Shizuma, realising Miyuki wasn't in a hurry to reply, moved to don her gloves and return to work, but as she half-stood, Miyuki added, "It wasn't just your experience that led me to place you here Shizuma, I'm sure you know that." Here it is Shizuma thought; the angle. Sitting again, Shizuma tipped her head, feeling the soft brown suede of the gloves against her skin as she straightened them out. Wondering what Miyuki was preparing, she found herself uncomfortable when her former-room mate's words struck an all too appropriate chord. "I don't want you to think it was out of spite Shizuma. I can see what you both mean to each other," Then after a pause she added, "That much is very obvious." Her brown gaze holding Shizuma's emerald stare confidently, she delivered the telling words, "I don't want you to think I'm trying to stand in the way of that; I'm just trying to do what's right for Nagisa's education, and in turn, for Miator." Shizuma knew she should quickly reply in protest; dismiss the notion as a false front and cut Miyuki down before she had a chance to wedge the door open, but inwardly, she already knew where Miyuki was going with this, and in the grim light of day, Miyuki was unquestionably right. "You know her grades are weak Shizuma," the school council President pushed, "She's only just transferred as it is, and now with the Etoile to contend with and the extra pressure you've both added with your recent choices, she'd surely stumble with this year's exams if she was free to distract herself with you constantly," Miyuki gestured with her hands, amplifying her point, "I've only wanted to do what's right for her, and more importantly, in turn, for Miator," She tipped her head slightly for effect, her next words hushed as though they were some deep admission, "They'd be Astrea's strongest pairing if Nagisa would only focus. When she's on form, she's amazingly empathetic and understanding; a perfect contrast to Tamao's sensibility and practicality. A true Etoile partnership after all these years..." And with a sly smirk she layered, "Makes a joke of Spica's last offering don't you think?" Shizuma, silenced by her own inner-admissions, could only respond with a cautious nod. The sincerity was hard to fault, and the sixth year's tone was almost conciliatory. Perhaps Miyuki was actually capable of an apology, as close as this conceited attempt could be to one. What's more, Shizuma was rarely present at Miyuki's berating sermons, never there to see the seething anger and dripping sarcasm that the school council President allegedly levelled at the red headed Etoile. All she saw was the tired, defeated young woman that flopped into her arms each night. For all Shizuma knew, that might simply be the result of the young, free-spirited woman she loved so dearly learning to cope with the same awful entrapment that Shizuma herself had found the Etoile title carried along with it. Regardless; even if Miyuki was trying to play her, Shizuma had to concede Miyuki's point. Nagisa would definitely fail this year's exams without someone's help; that much was certain. The silver haired Miatorian sighed, and tipped her own gaze, gathering her response. "I've never wanted the hostility Miyuki. We were good friends once." Anymore, and Shizuma felt she'd have given too much of herself. She was too tired for the mind games. All she wanted now was a conclusion and some time with Nagisa before bed. The sparkle in Miyuki's eyes was hard to read, her own reply just as measured, "We've both been rash lately Shizuma. I'd like to think that friendship isn't so distant that it can't be fixed though." Then with an air of personal admission, she added, "I misjudged my own feelings." Shizuma sat in silence, unwilling to respond. This time Miyuki did fill the gap, "I just didn't want you to think it was all about us. I don't want her to fail Shizuma; be it for you or be it for Miator. We've both worked so hard at that post in the past, it would be a shame to waste that all that pain and effort now. That's all." Pursing her lips in a conceding manner, the council President offered a weak shrug. "Perhaps we might consider this a fresh start?" she offered, the words hanging in the air. The silver haired upperclassman failed to respond, distain written across the back of Shizuma's mind. Miyuki knew not to press the point, sensing she'd scored as much of a victory as she could from the excursion. After a moment Shizuma bowed her head slightly, still defensive, and looked back at the pot she'd been tending, signalling an end to the conversation. Miyuki, still impervious to Shizuma's scrutinizing eyes, accepted the declaration and stood, nodding politely. "Thank you for your hard work Hanazono-san; the flowers will look amazing this year," she said in a formal tone, bowing before leaving as the position of former-Etoile commanded. "Sleep well Shizuma," she called as she left, the glass door sliding closed behind her. Perplexed and confused by the uncertain subtext of the encounter, Shizuma was left wondering exactly what is was that Miyuki was playing at. - - - - - "Etoile-sama?" Chiyo chirped, snapping Nagisa from her train of thought and causing the red head to jump in surprise. In the dim light of the street lamp at the junction by the Green House, Nagisa had to strain to see the tiny form of her room temp behind her. "Chiyo-chan?" she asked distractedly, looking again in the direction of the soft light spilling from the glass house at the end of the pathway. "There's a phone call for you in the office onee-sama," Chiyo replied, twisting her hands in her lap before her, shuffling to ward away the cold wind. With a soft admiration in her eyes she continued, "Your French tutor rang to arrange your next lesson Etoile-sama." Nagisa, mind still racing as she questioned Miyuki's presence in the Green House with her fiancée, the seemingly comfortable conversation the two girls were having at the high table having unsettled her, dismissed the statement briefly before snapping back to question it. "Chiyo-chan?" she asked. "Your French tutor Etoile-sama?" And lost in bewildered confusion, Nagisa muttered in reply to no one in particular, "But I don't have a French tutor?"
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