"Une tasse de thé rouge, s'il vous plait" Nagisa asked, nodding politely as the pretty waitress acknowledged her order and scooted off into the cafe to prepare it. Predictably, Emmie had chosen the only French speaking outlet in the entire city, making sure her student wouldn't even get a cup of tea without first practising the language to be able to order it, and Nagisa grimaced as she took her seat outside, realising she had a good twenty minutes alone before Emmie was due to join her. A cunning ploy indeed. Shuffling her grey coat out from under her as she made herself comfortable at the white plastic table, the red head looked woefully at the cafe's menu, the entire thing printed in French, lacking any Japanese or English as a guide. She might try ordering some food, but given the horrendous descriptions she'd had of European delicacies such as buttered snails and boiled frog's legs, she feared for what she might end up having served to her. Yes, a very cunning ploy indeed. Learn French or vomit as a consequence. It was no wonder Shizuma loved Emmie so dearly; they had the same vindictive streak. Returning the menu card to its holder, Nagisa looked around her surroundings instead, taking in the busy town street the café was located on. Heading straight into the centre of the retail district, the wide road beside her heaved with Christmas traffic, the path full of people hurrying past on their way to do more holiday shopping. Amongst the noise and bustle of the crowd, Nagisa found the café exterior a stark contrast; an oasis of calm, the well pruned bushes and potted plants that marked it's border standing guard, protecting the occupants from the sprawling urban monster rumbling by. It was cold outside, but the language barrier and the hesitation it generated had stopped Nagisa from sitting inside, worried that someone might approach her as she sat alone waiting for Emmie. As she'd neared the building she'd spotted a group of young european men inside the café, the lads loud and rowdy as they joked about at their tables, commenting on the particularly eye-catching figure of the waitress as she served them. With her lack of confidence, Nagisa struggled to tell the boys to go away at the best of times, let alone in a foreign language. For a brief moment she smiled, wistfully bemused by the idea of rejecting a boy in favour of another girl, when only a few years ago she'd have done anything to have a guy look at her the same way her beautiful fiancée did. Coming to Miator had changed Nagisa so much; she wondered if her parents would even recognise her when they returned from Europe after the holiday to visit. Spring held so much to look forward to, yet was so painfully far away at the same time. So much would change with the start of the New Year; Miyuki would leave Astrea, Shizuma would get her flat and potentially Nagisa would move in with her, Tamao would be out of their way and the constant attentions from the younger years would lessen as Nagisa became a single entity in the eyes of Astrea, her silver haired girlfriend and their relationship safely removed from public scrutiny. Long evenings curled up with a film, lazy mornings when the girls would have nothing better to do than bicker over who got dressed enough to make the tea. Come spring, it would all be so much easier. Yet spring was at least four more days of torture away, plus the term ahead of the exams when the girls returned from the winter break. It was like an insurmountable wall that drew a dark shroud across her mind, blocking the relief and freedom promised to her later if she'd just manage to cope with the remaining wait. Just a little longer, she kept telling herself, but all too often she found it too much, each barrage of emotional blackmail and social positioning from Miyuki stripping her soul away that little bit more. Nagisa sighed, realising she was sinking back into a stupor of negativity once again. Today was supposed to be a break from the politics of Astrea, so why drag them here with her? Determination setting on her pretty face, the young red head nodded to herself as she decided with executive conviction that today would be a happy day. And as an icy breeze whipped across the café patio, the waitress reappeared, a steaming cup of red tea present on the tray she carried, a chorus of whistles following her backside as she walked past the young men inside. The young woman rolled her dark eyes as she placed Nagisa's order on the table, the redhead sighing sympathetically. She understood the sentiment, the young woman before her stunningly attractive in an oriental sense, all soft smooth skin and long straight hair, but Nagisa found herself repulsed by the manner in which the group were vocalising the matter. What did she see in guys for all those years? The waitress smiled pleasantly and returned to her business, leaving Nagisa to warm her chill fingers on the outside of the china cup. Pausing a moment to feel the wonderful glow as her digits adjusted to the temperature, she then set about sweetening the drink slightly, stirring a level heap of sugar in. As the teaspoon rang melodically against the porcelain rim, Nagisa was pulled from her thoughts by a heavily accented call from the street behind her, "Nagisa Aoi!" The red head beamed, recognizing the soft voice straight away, standing and turning as Emmie entered the café patio through a white metal archway within the managed floral border. The French woman looked radiant as ever, her long brown hair loose, her slender figure hugged by a warm woollen wrap and a continental styled skirt. Soft brown boots covered her shins, the rest of her legs clad in expensively patterned hosiery that complimented her richly tanned skin. "Emmie-sama!" she grinned, and reached out to hug the woman dearly, the pair greeting each other with a traditional theatric kiss to each cheek. Holding each other at arm's length for a moment, Emmie smiled at the young woman before her, "You look amazing as ever Nagisa, I hope you're well?" Nagisa blushed as she mumbled her thanks, replying in a small voice, "Very much so, thank you Emmie-sama. But I shouldn't be the one receiving the compliments." Emmie smiled, and bid the fourth year retake her seat as she drew the opposite chair from beneath the table Nagisa had chosen, setting about making herself comfortable. Placing her car keys on the table and exclusive looking bag beside her feet, the French woman sat back in her chair, continuing to smile at the pleasant reunion. For a moment, they sat in silence, Nagisa unsure of what to say, glad for the familiar face but realising she knew so little about her companion, she wouldn't know what to say to her to start the conversation. Emmie relieved the awkwardness for her, beginning, "Mina wanted me to pass on her best wishes; you've been sorely missed this past fortnight. She's determined to have you both back again for dinner as soon as she's finished with the holiday PR schedule." Leaning back in her chair, she motioned abruptly toward the waitress. Turning back, the French woman continued, "We were thinking perhaps you might join us for Christmas dinner? Unless you both wanted some privacy for the day?" Nagisa felt her face flush again, and gestured her thanks quietly, "I'm sure we'd both love to. It's not yourself or Mrs Hanazono- " Emmie cut in, stressing the familiarity, "Mina Nagisa, her name is Mina." And Nagisa blushed, correcting herself, "It's not you or Mina-sama we're trying to get away from by going to the Summer House. I'm sure Christmas dinner would be lovely." Smiling contently, Emmie cupped her hands on the table before her in satisfaction. "We'll make that a date then. Mina cooks a delicious Christmas Turkey," she added. The waitress reappeared, and Emmie took the menu card from its stand as she greeted the young woman. Taking a moment to scan the list before her, she rattled off a brief list to the girl, nodding politely after as she completed the order. Smiling, the waitress turned on heel, heading back to navigate the over excited young men in the restaurant. Nagisa sighed at the ease at which the French woman manipulated the language, and Emmie caught the sentiment, frowning at her companion's frustration. "Shizuma tells me you've not been learning French long? Did you study it at all before Astrea?" The fourth year shrugged in defeat, her demeanour shifting, "Not for long, and I wasn't very good at it then either." Emmie nodded to the red heads half empty cup, "You got that far okay?" Nagisa twisted her hands together, resting the side of her head against them, muttering in avoidance, "I'd have starved if you weren't here with me though," having recognized the plural reference to cake that Emmie has used during her order. She sighed heavily, "It's just taking me a long time to catch up, and the other girls are so far ahead. And now I have all these extra duties on top to cope with as well." The fourth year sighed at the subject, then more calmly added, "I'm not coping too well with Etoile." Emmie reached a hand forward sympathetically and smiled fondly, "In all fairness Nagisa, neither did Shizuma at first. By all accounts, she found it all extremely overwhelming after Kaori passed away." Nagisa found the name strangely irritating today, her mood souring as she replied, "I don't have that excuse though. The only thing in my life that needs grieving is my free time." Emmie tipped her head, surprised by the degree of Nagisa's mood swing. Shizuma hadn't been understating the extent to which things were getting on top of her girlfriend. Catching herself, Nagisa apologised quickly, "I'm sorry Emmie-sama; that was wrong of me. It's all a bit much at the moment I guess." The French woman smiled fondly and squeezed Nagisa's forearm. "You don't need to apologise Nagisa, we all have days like that. Besides, what else is family for?" Nagisa's expression softened at the word, and her face flushed again. She hadn't thought in those terms before. "Th-thank you," she stammered. Emmie smiled, and gripped Nagisa's hand again briefly before sitting back more formally. Taking a more serious tone, she explained, "Shizuma was under the impression from tutoring you in summer that confidence is your main problem, and most of that came from you not having had enough time or the right environment to practice in?" She gestured for clarity, "It's one thing talking French to another student, but using French amongst native speakers is the fastest way of learning it properly." Seeing Nagisa's face plummet rapidly into a pensive expression, Emmie grinned playfully, "You know, not all Europeans smell you know." Nagisa blushed, realising her apprehension was so transparent. Hurriedly trying to explain for fear of causing offence, she gushed, "I didn't mean it like that; certainly Emmie-sama could never smell badly. I just-" Emmie cut her off with a wave of her hand as she laughed musically, her eyes beaming her amusement, "I know Nagisa, I know." Still shaking with the occasional chuckle, the brunette considered her next sentence. With a reassuring tone she continued, "Don't worry, I didn't bring you here to subject you to the unwanted attentions of those foreign students," and she gestured towards the group in the café who were preparing to leave, "I meant more with someone like myself that you could relax with. Trying to talk to people that intimidate you is going to be no different that trying to speak in front of the other girls in class who have been learning much longer than you." Smiling fondly, she added, "I'd like to think I don't intimidate you Nagisa?" The fourth year's face returned to its happy state, the new Etoile replying, "Of course not Emmie-sama, you've been wonderful to me." Then adding quickly, she said, "You both have." The pair smiled across the table, Nagisa's mood recovered expertly by the European woman's humour and warmth. But as Emmie greeted the returning waitress who brought with her a pot of tea and a selection of patisserie deserts, the attractive brunette pondered the young woman before her. Shizuma was right, Nagisa was very definitely not the same young lady she'd been a fortnight before. Emmie motioned the fourth year towards the refreshments, "Dig in, and perhaps we'll start with some basic stuff like verbs and sentence structure before getting technical?" And despite the red head doing her best to remain positive, Emmie noticed the crack in Nagisa's smile almost as soon as the new Etoile dipped her eyes towards the plate. - - - - - "Rokujo-san?" Chikaru's soft voice echoed across the heavy wooden table in the student council chamber, the room's vacancy amplifying the fifth year's calm voice even further. It was dark in the meeting room, the Miatorian President sat on the edge of an arm chair near the heavy red curtains that hung before each window, the young woman bent intently over a chaotic looking coffee table that lay strewn with documents and paperwork, lit by a single table lamp that perched amongst the mess. Chikaru smiled wryly at the sight, the scene looking very much like her own room. Approaching her Miatorian peer, the Lulim girl offered, "If it's any consolation, my Dormitory desk looks a lot like that too." She twisted her face in exasperation, adding, "We've cut it a bit close this year haven't we?" Miyuki, who had obviously pulled an all-nighter given the still shrouded windows, looked up from the collage of sheets, curling her black bob back behind one ear as it fell, her expression that of fatigue mixed with happy appreciation for having a sympathetic and understanding ear. "Yes we have, haven't we," she agreed, before relaxing back into her chair, her neck muscles complaining as she shifted position. Glad for the interruption, she enjoyed the moment's rest, inquiring, "What can I do for you Chikaru-san? I hope you're well?" The Lulim girl nodded, her red ribbons mirroring the movement, "As well as can be expected at this time of year, thank you. I'm almost done with the Lulim discharge, so if there's anything more I can do to help yourselves or Spica, please don't be afraid to ask." Miyuki, head sinking pleasantly into the plush head rest of the high-backed arm chair, smiled in respect for her peer, "How do you do it Chikaru? Always first to finish, always first to offer assistance..." The dark haired Miatorian gently rocked her head in bemusement, "You'll be sorely missed the year after next." Chikaru dipped her gaze politely, replying, "A lot of it comes from having a very efficient personal assistant," she said, after which she chuckled warmly. "Kagome still ceases to amaze me." Miyuki smiled briefly before her expression returned to a state of weary fatigue, and she looked across toward the bookshelves at the opposite end of the room, her gaze unfocused and drawn. "Dear Kagome. There's always one, and inevitably they end up being at Lulim." Lost in a moment's thought, the sixth year sighed heavily before returning to her business face, sitting up correctly and regaining her composure. "So what can I do for you Minamoto-san?" she asked. Accepting that their moment of informality had passed, Chikaru replied with the proper decorum that their titles demanded, "I came to inform you that your dress is ready Miyuki-san. Please, feel free to collect it at your convenience." Miyuki's face shifted, momentarily portraying something akin to satisfaction, although Chikaru couldn't catch it properly in the dim light of the table lamp. She might even have confused it for vindictive glee. "Excellent Chikaru-san. If it's acceptable, I'd like to pop by later in the evening to collect it?" Chikaru nodded, and waited to see if Miyuki had anything further to add, the sixth year obviously thinking something over by her furrowed brow. But the Miatorian senior didn't elaborate, and the Lulim President took it as her cue to leave, "I'll be back in my room as soon as dinner is finished Rokujo-san. Feel free to join me at your convenience." To which Miyuki nodded her thanks, gesturing her farewell before returning to the paperwork before her. And as Chikaru turned to leave the stifling darkness of the council chamber, she found herself wondering how someone could maintain such a guarded demeanour without cracking open with repressed emotion. - - - - - "Oh for godsake!" Nagisa exclaimed, her frustration really beginning to show. Undeterred by the young woman's venting, Emmie pressed the subject harder, leaning closer so she could stress the error to her student more clearly. Explaining the source of the grammatical mistake with a few swift marks of her pen, the French woman tipped her head, her expression the picture of patience as Nagisa's brown eyes flicked across the alterations. Understanding dawning on her, the fourth year rolled her eyes and sighed apologetically. "I'm so sorry Emmie-sama, I see now." She buried her forehead in cupped hands and slowly rolled her head from side to side. She wanted to scream, but conceded she'd advanced further in this one morning than she had in weeks. Swallowing the lump of frustration-born emotion that nagged at her throat, she raised her gaze, taking a deep breath. Making sure her tone was composed and polite, she offered, "Thank you so much Emmie-sama, this really is a huge help," and parsing her lips she added, "It's no wonder Shizuma is so good at this." Emmie half smiled, but brushed the compliment aside, not wanting the distraction. Instead she reasserted, "See, you can do this Nagisa. It's just a matter of time and practice." The fourth year sighed again, slumping back in her chair. Emmie was right of course, but did the red head really want to be sacrificing more time with her fiancée for this rubbish? No, of course not, like she'd ever use French outside the classroom anyway. The only French speaker she knew was sat in front of her and spoke better English than she did, let alone formal Japanese or written Kanji. Distractedly, the fourth year glanced away from the table, watching the traffic pass by. The pair sat in silence for a moment, Emmie agitated by Nagisa's avoidance, Nagisa tired of the subject and needing a break. Deciding she'd gained a fair bit of ground, Emmie elected to let the moment stand and relaxed into her own chair, gesturing again for the waitress. It had been a long, hard morning, and catching her own rattled frame of mind, the French woman realised now would be a sensible time to pause. It'd also been an extremely interesting insight into the young woman her girlfriend's daughter was so enraptured by. Nagisa had certainly changed a fair bit since their last meeting, and Emmie was genuinely concerned for the red head's well being, the weight of the Etoile having crushed the girl's spirit completely. Surely there must be something more going on here than an over whelming school appointment? Hadn't Shizuma mentioned something about her former-roommate making a nuisance of herself? Emmie opted for some cool down time, after which she decided it was time to do a little digging and offer Nagisa the chance to confide more completely. As the waitress approached the table, Emmie turned to order more tea, the French woman stopping mid sentence as her attention was caught by something else. Nagisa was laughing. Emmie frowned, gesturing for a fresh tea pot as she turned quizzically to the fourth year. Sat back in her chair, brown gaze miles away, the young red head was smiling to herself as she played with her crimson Etoile stone. Waiting for a moment so Nagisa could enjoy whatever mental image it was that had shifted her mood so quickly, the French woman caught the sound of pop music blaring from one of the cars crawling past the café in the heavy late morning traffic. Catching the older woman's gaze, Nagisa returned to the moment. "What's so funny? You were ready to explode a moment ago?" Emmie asked with a curious smile. Nagisa blushed a deep shade of burgundy, and turned away, hiding her eyes and shaking her head. Bemused, the intrigued smile crept further from the corner of Emmie's lips, and the brunette gestured for explanation. "Nagisa?" The fourth year's embarrassment exploded, and she turned back, shaking her head and holding her hands as if to say she didn't know where to start. Finally finding the words, she managed, "It's that song," prompting the French woman to strain to hear it better, "I've heard it before Emmie-sama" the fourth year added. Emmie tipped her head, listening intently. Recognition flared, and she pulled the name from the air just as the chorus kicked in, "Weapon of Choice?" she asked. Nagisa nodded, blushing even further. Not understanding the significance, but enjoying watching the young woman squirm, Emmie motioned for further explanation. "I um." Nagisa rolled her eyes in total embarrassment. "God, I can't believe I'm telling you this," she said, framing her face with her hands again. Taking a deep breath, she began, "I first heard this track when Shizuma took Amane, Hikari and myself to the Summer House after a shopping trip." Sitting back she resigned to completing the tale regardless of the consequences, "That was the night we drank that bottle of champagne Mina mentioned at dinner." She giggled as she remembered the evening scene by scene, from Shizuma's antics at the bar to Hikari forcing the scarecrow-esque Amane to dance, from joining Shizuma atop the coffee table to making love on the sofa in front of the fire later that evening, the warmth of the burning wood complimented by the alcohol coursing through her veins, stripping the fourth year of her youthful inhibitions. Pushing that last image out of her mind given the company she kept, the red head continued her story, "Shizuma played this on the living room stereo when she decided it was time we all lightened up a bit. She was dancing on the coffee table at the time." Emmie, whose grin had grown broader and broader as the depth of Nagisa's embarrassment had progressed, burst into laughter, "Table dancing?" Emmie asked, adding with an exaggerated look, "Perhaps it's time we had the staff check the Summer House over for wear and tear?" She grinned, adding casually, "You know, there was a time when that child couldn't dance to save her life." Nagisa baulked, unable to believe the remark, "But she dances so well? God, that night at the Summer House. I'd never seen someone..." and the Miatorian's voice trailed off as embarrassment caught up with the memory of watching the sixth year's slender hips rotate with the beat, the Hanazono girl winding up and down on her perfect legs, emerald eyes sparkling with wicked mischief as they'd watched Nagisa squirm in the cosy leather arm chair. After a moment's awkward silence, Nagisa mumbled quietly, "So um, that was why I was laughing." Then in an even smaller voice, she added, "I could never dance that well." And it was then that something snapped within the French woman. Sitting bolt upright, she gestured across the table, "Right, that's enough of that young lady." Nagisa panicked, caught off guard by the sudden change in tone and fearing she'd upset her companion. But there was a smile behind the determination in Emmie's soft brown eyes, and she gestured again at Nagisa, "Put your books away, we're done with French until after the weekend," and the red headed Etoile baulked in confusion, "But you said we were going to meet on saturday as well Emmie-sama?" she asked, her small voice betraying how unsure she was of the European woman's reaction, her over sensitive insecurities kicking in once again. Noting that very trait in Nagisa's behaviour, Emmie nodded resolutely, "And that we will, but I have something much more important in mind for saturday. French can wait until after the Ball." And without any further explanation, Mina's lover set about packing her language guides and dictionary away, having decided it was time to do something about Nagisa's complete lack of self-esteem. - - - - - "Nagisa-chan, where have you been!" Tamao exclaimed, her expression a weird mix of frustration and relief rolled into one as her seemingly part time-roommate appeared in the Dormitory corridor before her. Tamao had even considered calling the Sister, the evening meal approaching quickly and Nagisa nowhere to be seen. The dark haired Etoile had spent the entire morning treading water with her chin now steadily disappearing below sea level; things were at their most critical with the Christmas Ball preparations, each of the many small teams Miyuki had put together now needing constant guidance and support if the work were to be done in time, and amongst all of this, Nagisa had seemingly disappeared. Frustration subsiding, Tamao's voice returned to its usual fond tones, the upperclassman approaching her fellow Etoile, making her way past the door to the Dormitory lounge that she'd been heading towards in search of her partner. Reading Tamao's expression despite the dim light in the corridor, the red head cringed, knowing full well what was coming next, "I'm sorry Nagisa-chan, I didn't mean to snap. I've just been worried, that's all." Nagisa sighed, evasive as the dark haired Miatorian took her by the wrists, gazing attentively into her friend's eyes. "You've been off premises again?" she asked. Too weary to play the cat and mouse game, Nagisa replied quietly, "I'm taking extra French classes Tamao-chan," she explained, and then to avoid further questioning she added, "Miyuki should have told you; I'm sorry if Tamao-chan was worried." Uncharacteristically responsive for the Nagisa she knew of late, Tamao stood surprised by the red head's apparent openness. Smiling happily she squeezed her roommate's hands, "Well you're here now, that's all that matters." She grinned, "Just in time for prayer too! Oh, and I saw your dress. It's beautiful!" Tamao added, doing her best to maintain the positive atmosphere. Nagisa hadn't spoken to her more in the past fortnight than she had just then, at least, not without having to do so in a formal capacity. The red head sighed, knowing full well the anger the previous compliment had suddenly generated was sourced by Miyuki's Etoile meddling and not by Tamao herself. Once again unwilling to risk falling into the question and answer game with her companion, Nagisa simply closed the conversation with blanket acceptance. "Thank you. I hope it matches yours Tamao-chan." The dark haired Etoile was about to press further when a swish of black fabric and the crisp ring of heels on the wooden floor announced Miyuki Rokujo's arrival. "Good evening Etoile-sama," the council President offered in a formal voice, her tone curt and clipped. Tamao returned the greeting as required, but Nagisa blanked the woman altogether. After the long morning of tutorship and the confusing end to her time with Emmie, the red head really wasn't in the mood at all. "Are we ready to give the evening prayer?" Miyuki asked, prompting Nagisa to scowl further. Inwardly she wanted to snap back, pointing out they were as ready as they were every day of the week, fifty two weeks of the year, just as their duty required them to be. And more importantly, that they didn't need asking or reminding after so much damn practice! But once again, the fourth year bit her lip, knowing all too well the consequences of letting the outburst fly. Tamao, noting the thunder cloud on Nagisa's face, answered quickly on behalf of the pair, "Yes we are Rokujo-san. Was there anything else you needed from us?" Miyuki, her aura cold and stoic, took a matter of fact tone and gestured to reinforce her next point, "Obviously, we're now a day away from the Ball." She paused, gathering her words, "I thought I'd take a moment to stress to the pair of you that, after tomorrow evening there will be absolutely nothing I can do to assist you." She motioned in the vague direction of the Dormitory population, "Once discharge is complete, the Christmas Ball itself will be entirely in your hands. I've done what I can for the preparations, but the actual event itself is in the realm of the Etoile. I hope you both understand the responsibility that will carry?" Nagisa, facing away, rolled brown her eyes, Tamao catching the gesture from the corner of her peripheral vision. Surely Miyuki was baiting her room mate. Unless... There was something odd about Miyuki's tone and Tamao was puzzled. If this wasn't to start a fight, which the sixth year's manner somehow suggested it wasn't, then why the need to stress the point so markedly? The council President continued, "Once the morning meeting is complete and the girls have had their tasks allocated, the success of the event in its entirety will be down to you two. My attendance at the Ball will be purely that of my position and my social responsibility to maintain a presence." Not really following Miyuki's point, but fully aware that Nagisa next to her was about to explode, Tamao filled the silence with the words that she presumed Miyuki would want to hear, "We understand our obligations Rokujo-san; we'll endeavour to fulfil them on Saturday just as we would any other day of the year," and then after a pause, she added, "for the integrity of Miator of course." Still utterly perplexed by the conversation, Tamao responded politely as Miyuki expressed her satisfaction, "I'm glad that's clear. We should proceed with the evening prayer." Tamao nodded her agreement, reaching back to touch Nagisa's arm, the red head shirking the interference in her personal space, despite being thankful for her dark haired companion's quick removal of Miyuki. Watching the sixth year stride off down the corridor toward the dining hall, Tamao glanced between her room mate, who unceremoniously blanked all opportunity to thank her fellow Etoile, and the imposing form of the council President disappearing into the dim light ahead. What was that about? - - - - - "...after which, on this final Friday of the school year, the staff and I wish you all a very Happy New Year and look forward to seeing you fresh and rested in the spring!" Finishing her speech, Sister Mizue stepped back from the podium lectern and tapped her hands together softly in theatrical celebration. A polite round of applause rippled through the Cathedral as the audience followed suit, until eventually, someone broke with convention and let their excitement bubble over, giggling as they cheered above the noise. Excitement abound, the gathered students followed one after another and it wasn't long before the cold stone walls erupted with applause as the girls realised they were once again free for the holiday. Smiling faces and beaming eyes flashed amongst the crowd, and in her place stood beside the Dormitory administrator and her fellow Etoile, even Nagisa managed a weak smile as she watched her classmates hugs each other joyously, the congregation slowly beginning to file from the Cathedral entrance in methodical fashion. Even from her vantage point atop the stage dais, she could feel the enthusiasm and elation coursing through the chamber. That bit closer, Nagisa told herself, and for a moment, she could almost feel the weight falling from her shoulders. She'd be away with Shizuma before she knew it, and the worst she'd have to endure after that would be Mina and Emmie's inevitable teasing. She could finally do something about making up for her miserable term-time behaviour to Shizuma too. But before she could slip too far into her plans, a dark shadow stretched across her view, announcing the presence of the Miatorian President. Stood before the Head Sister, Miyuki bowed respectfully, adding a curt nod to the Etoile stood to one side. Her dark eyes showed heavy lines, the result of several nights missed sleep, the senior having pushed herself far beyond her usual limitations to complete her end of year duties; such was the disruption to the usual state of affairs this term and the degree to which Miyuki was determined not to fail. "The council is happy to confirm that it's end of term responsibilities are complete. The Dormitory girls will be free to leave as soon as tomorrow's Celebrations have finished." Mizue nodded in satisfaction, patting Miyuki on the arm sympathetically. "It's never easy this time of year Rokujo-san, the council has done well to keep pace." She smiled, looking back across the happy faces of the students before her, "Once again your skills have carried us through. Look at them Miyuki, you'd hardly know anything had been different this year." As the sixth year looked back across her shoulder, taking in the happy throng, the Sister returned to a more formal posture, her hands gathered before her. "You should all be very proud." Miyuki nodded her thanks, gesturing to the Etoile stood listening quietly to the exchange, "We've had a great pairing step into the gap left by Spica's mistakes Sister; they're due as much praise as the council is." Her words were marked, her gaze falling on Nagisa directly, twisting the sentiment with an edge of sarcasm that others would have missed were they not been present at Miyuki's many sermons that she'd forced the red head to endure. Tamao watched warily, unsure whether or not to expect trouble and protectively stepping to close the distance between her and Nagisa. Mizue, oblivious to the exchange, added next, "Yes of course, our new Etoile," and she turned to congratulate the pair, Nagisa forcing a smile, but still acutely aware of Miyuki's dark eyes burning a hole in her. Clapping her hands together with a satisfied smile, the Dormitory administrator gathered herself to leave, "Which only leaves the Ball! I'm sure I don't need to inquire as to our state of readiness; you've been more than methodical in your final year Miyuki, I'll happily leave the last of the arrangements in your hands and join the staff." After which the old woman nodded her farewell, heading off stage left towards the dim corridors that led backstage and out via the rectory exit. Nagisa let a quiet sigh slip, and gazed back across the milling sprawl of mixed uniforms and beaming faces. One step closer. - - - - - Shuffling out amongst the hectic column of girls, Kaname Kenjo walked with the grim expression of someone carrying their biblical cross to crucifixion, the slope of her dark fringe hiding irritable eyes from her once girlfriend beside her. The Spican pair had been forced to attend the end of term ceremony together for council appearances sake, although little had passed between them during the entire morning's proceedings, the space around them teeming with subtext and particularly on Momomi's part, unspoken and desperately pressing feelings. The line was moving slowly away from the Cathedral, the sky outside clear but crisp, the snows and heavy winds of late having passed. Japan's winter was rarely heavy set or prolonged, and the beginnings of spring were almost tangible amongst the brilliant disc in the vaulted sapphire sky and the sniff of fresh salt in the sea air lingering on the breeze. Kaname would be glad to see an end to the darkness and depressingly long nights, the sultry Spican more at home under the blistering sun on an open court, the opponent before her and the gazing eyes of the crowd more compelling than the atmospheric nights under deep clouds and broken light that accompanied the Christmas months. She might be a night owl, but not in the repressed gothic sense that so many of her fellow students seemed to be. Particularly those from Miator, she noted wryly. Momomi beside her was silent, the brunette's pretty hair framing her face, hiding her own irritation as numerous underclassmen bumped into her as they rushed back to the Dormitories or their next, and mostly likely final class. Looking down at the over excited juniors, she sighed uncomfortably, triggering her tall companion to misread the subtext, "Oh don't worry Momomi, one more day and you'll be shot of me for good," Kaname muttered in an offhand tone, her gaze far across the bay and out towards the sea beyond. Momomi's eyes widened and she looked off to one side, her chest rising in exasperation and angry frustration. She bit back a snarl and the rising tear that threatened to follow it, snorting in contempt for the comment and continuing to avoid eye contact with the tall fifth year beside her. Kaname leered, leaning into the brunette's personal space as she pushed the point, "What's wrong Momomi? Not looking forward to a single room?" Dark lips curled in vindictive pleasure as she continued, "After all, surely you'll be glad to see the back of me? Such a flawed girlfriend, so much like damaged goods!" and she gestured with a wide sweep of her hand, "Look at them Momomi. After all, what's to stop my one track mind from finding another distraction?" Her words laced with venom and references to their many preceding rows and fights, Kaname pulling as many strings as she could, sick and tired of the charade between them. Gaze firmly set on the path before her, Momomi stated through gritted teeth, "We're in public Kaname." The taller girl scoffed, "Since when did that make a difference to you?" she asked, sneering viciously. "Ashamed of me all of a sudden?" she replied with mock offence, before spitting her next line victoriously, "You never complained when we were still fucking!" A hushed gasp rippled around them, and Kaname set herself, waiting for the retort. The embarrassment of being degraded amongst the juniors was enough to push the brunette over the edge, and stopping in her tracks, Momomi grabbed her girlfriend's arm, pulling the taller girl to face her. "What is it Kaname? What are you up to now?" Tears sprang to Momomi's soft brown eyes, and her face twisted with repressed feelings as they threatened to bubble over. "Happy? Is this what you wanted to see?" Biting the wave back, she set her jaw in defiance, pointing to her face dramatically, "See this Kenjo-san?" and she paused a moment for effect, "It's the face of someone who couldn't give a fuck anymore!" And as she flounced off into the astonished crowd around her, Kaname waited a moment, watching the melodramatic fifth year disappear before smiling coolly, her dark eyes sparkling with achievement. - - - - - Even from the confines of her half-empty Dormitory, Yaya could clearly hear the enthusiastic calls of the students as they left the Cathedral, the old brass bell ringing true as it declared the end of term. Not long now, and the Strawberry Dorms would be an empty shell hibernating until the girls returned in spring. Turning from the open window, the dark haired Spican surveyed the scene before her, the room now barren apart from Hikari's possessions and Yaya's bare essentials. The remainder or her belongs were now neatly organized in a stack of cardboard boxes in the centre of the room, her more delicate clothes and perishables in a suitcase beside them. She'd worked hard overnight to clear up, noting the appearance of several previously concealed holes in the plaster or marks in the wooden work from her moments of release earlier in the term. Unable to do anything about them now, Yaya hoped they would be over looked during the winter inspection. There were only a few pieces left to pack, and Yaya stood in her night dress in the centre of the room, the third year still not having bothered to dress. She toyed with a limp art pad, her slender fingers flicking back and forth across a frayed corner. Sighing at the sheer volume of her roommate's belongings left to remind her of the third year's absence, Yaya remained perplexed by Konohana's apparent choice not to collect them. Surely Hikari would at least need her school books over the holiday? The tiny blonde had missed a fair chunk of content ahead of the spring exams, and although her grades were respectable, they were bound to suffer if she didn't get some revision done. Then with another heavy sigh, Yaya added; unless of course, she was already studying somewhere else. Yaya tossed the sketch pad into the pile of stuff waiting to be sealed into the final box, her mood decidedly soured. Even if the staff did allow Yaya to return come spring, which she very doubted given her behaviour since Hikari had left, she realised suddenly that more than likely, there would be no one here return to anyway. This would be it. Once she left this Dormitory and the remains of her brief life with the young blonde, Hikari Konohana would be nothing more than a memory. - - - - - It was late evening when a soft knock echoed through Shizuma's Dormitory door, the silver haired sixth year looking up from her novel, smiling from her place curled up on the Dormitory bed. Nagisa was out early this evening, she thought, and sitting up, she waited for the red head to appear. But the door remained still, and Shizuma frowned for a moment, confused. Again, a soft, awkward sounding knock rang against the surface. Closing her book having made sure she'd marked her place, Shizuma slid from the bed, her black uniform swishing as it brushed against the soft cotton sheets she'd been stretched out across. Calling softly as she approached the door, Shizuma pushed her trailing silver hair out of her eyes. "Come in?" she urged. Still nothing, and having reached the cool metal handle, the slender sixth year opened the door herself. Stood in the hallway before her, juggling an unstable looking tower of compact disc cases was little Chiyo Tsukidate, her blue eyes troubled as she did her best to balance the stack and greet the former-Etoile correctly. Intimidated in the presence of her onee-sama's girlfriend, Chiyo stammered, "For-former Etoile-sama," and she curtseyed awkwardly, almost sending the pile of clear plastic across the floor, "Is, is Etoile-sama Nagisa-senpai here?" she asked in a small voice, her gaze averted to the floor. The upperclassman smiled with bemusement, never having considered how her relationship with Nagisa might effect little Chiyo and the red headed Etoile's other adoring fans. The first year was obviously completely besotted with the fourth year, and Shizuma smiled at the cute first year before her, realising how intimidating she must find the former-Etoile. "I'm afraid not Chiyo-chan, I believe she's still in council duty," she explained softly, doing her best to make herself as approachable as possible. Chiyo looked about a second, shuffling uncomfortably as she fought with her embarrassment, her little face turning bright red at the unexpected reply. Having practiced the request continuously on her way to the sixth year's Dormitory, the last thing she'd expected to be told was that Nagisa wasn't there. "Um, um," she mumbled, once again almost dropping the stack. Trying not to betray too much amusement, Shizuma looked cautiously at the precarious pile the first year was juggling. "Are you sure you don't want to put those down for a moment Tsukidate-san?" Shizuma asked, her eyebrow raised in concern. Chiyo spurted forth the mechanics of her errand, caught up in the utmost importance of her task, "Oh no no former-Etoile-sama. Rokujo-san said I wasn't to put them down until I'd given them safely to my onee-s..." she stumbled at the phrase, noting Shizuma's gathering smile, ".,.to Aoi-sama. They're very important you see, and Etoile-sama needs to finish the listing before tomorrow." Shizuma's lips took a wry smile, and just as Chiyo lost her grip on one corner, Shizuma stepped forward to intervene. The top of the pile wobbled far above Chiyo's shoulders, and it was obvious the little first year wasn't going to complete the trip to the council chambers without dropping them. Easing the pile from the first year's aching fingers, Shizuma hefted the stack and set them down carefully on the bedside table. "I'll tell you what Chiyo-chan," she said, turning to the little first year, smiling as warmly as she could, "Why don't you leave them here for a moment and go to the council chamber to find Etoile-sama. When you get there, you can stress how important it is that she finish up this work for Rokujo-san, which I'm sure will get her out of meetings early," adding after a pause, "That will make her very happy don't you think?" Chiyo's blue eyes widened at the thought, completely missing the manipulation having been offered the chance to please her onee-sama. The tiny Miatorian beamed. "Oh!" She blushed, realising she'd showed too much enthusiasm whilst addressing Nagisa's girlfriend and dropped her gaze once again to avoid Shizuma's piercing emerald gaze. Swallowing awkwardly, she explained in her tiny voice, "I'll do that right away former-Etoile-sama," She curtsied briefly as she turned to hurry off down the corridor, bubbling over with excitement and an eagerness to reach the council chamber. Trying to hide her smile, Shizuma added sternly, "No running Tsukidate-san!" Nodding attentively, Chiyo caught her enthusiasm and reminded herself to behave more correctly. Watching for a moment as the tiny first year disappeared into the gloomy corridor, Shizuma shook her head with a smile and turned her attention to the pile of cases by her bed. Lifting the top few cases, she flicked through the stack in curiosity. Under the first disc in the pile was a folded note, and scanning the page, the silver haired senior realised with a bemused frown that this was the music that Miyuki had prepared for the Christmas Ball, the tracks arranged in order of performance following the formal Etoile dance. The tall Miatorian cringed, looking at some of the artist's names that caught her eye. "Oh Miyuki," she sighed, noting her former-roommates awful taste in music had yet to change. - - - - - Chikaru had baulked in surprise when Miyuki had failed to try her dress on upon collection, the Lulim senior finding herself perhaps even a little offended, having fully expected the Miatorian President to inspect her work. But Miyuki had already risked far too much recollection on the Lulim girl's part, having approached her to alter the dress in the first place. The last thing she needed now was to risk Chikaru waking up to her ploy and voicing her memories to the rest of the seniors. Eventually, the school being the rumour mill it was, things would get back to Shizuma, and all her hard work would be for nothing. Stood in the low light of her Dormitory, curtains drawn and only the dim illumination of her table lamp by which to see, Miyuki stood before the full length mirror in her bathroom, holding the long shimmery garment up against herself. It was perfect; Chikaru had done exactly what the council senior had hoped she would. More than likely, the deeply set memories from her short stay in the second year with the Miatorian duo during the school French exchange had influenced her creative mind, the image in the mirror before Miyuki almost identical to that which she was trying to recreate. Only a few finishing touches remained, all of which she would have dealt with by mid-morning while everyone else was wrapped up in the final hours before the Ball. All the hard work having been done, she was sure even the hapless Nagisa would be able to cope with her remaining responsibilities, and if not, the endlessly attentive Tamao would be there to bail her out, leaving Miyuki free to complete her own preparations. She sighed in satisfaction, setting her jaw and staring intently at the young woman looking back from the murky mirror image. She'd been good enough once. Perhaps now, in the dying embers of her time at Astrea, she might be once again. - - - - - "Shizuma!" Miyuki squealed, the third year's long black hair whipping about her face as she tumbled out onto the terrace. Giggling like a kinder garden junior, Shizuma almost followed her to the deck, managing to catch herself as she missed the tall step from the doorway onto the snow covered flagstones beneath. Out on the high balcony above the school grounds proper, the entire panorama was sheet white, the storm having calmed earlier in the day but not without leaving the surroundings blanketed in soft pillows of marshmallow-like precipitate first. Shizuma stood for a moment, her spinning head trying to decide whether or not she should be concerned for the limp form in the snow before her. But Miyuki was still busy laughing, and Shizuma grinned as she reached down, offering a hand to her fallen room mate, "You're supposed to lose your head Miyuki, not your feet," she teased. Warm breath leaving curling trails in the night air, the pair held each other still for a moment as the third year regained her feet, the mixture of the evening's heady pace and the intoxicating warmth of the alcohol coursing through their veins having left both girls in complete disarray. Miyuki had never drunk so much alcohol before, and it was only when her rebellious room mate had promised it would help with her nerves that Miyuki was coxed into the first few sips, the dress she was wearing leaving the council assistant feeling awkward and exposed. And for good reason too, she thought, noting her bare thighs which were covered in flecks of snow, the blue satin seams of her garment damp from where she'd fallen. But as the evening had progressed and the vodka had begun to do it's job, those first few sips had become one or two more, followed by several measured top ups until eventually, in wild abandon, the curved half bottle had been left with little more than a few final drops within. Unable to feel the cold, her skin almost as warm as her glowing face, Miyuki was now far beyond caring about the consequences. The two girls had spent most of the evening fleeing from a trio of overly voracious French boys who had gate crashed the school Ball. Local culture not big on following rules or tying the line, the gate staff had hardly blinked an eye when a number of local lads, having caught wind of a party at the high class academy, had marched on the antiquated hall in their best dress, hoping to woo some of the young talent within. Much akin to wolves in the sheep's pen, the lads had run riot, the occasional Sister doing their best to shoo the boys from the premises, only too have them re-enter through a different entrance a little later. One group in particular, obviously never having seen oriental girls before, took a distinct liking to Shizuma's unique hair colour and Miyuki's eye-catching attire, following them around the Hall continuously, bombarding the pair with relentless comments and remarks, trying to get the girl's attentions. Having failed with the politer options, it hadn't taken the trio long to lower the tone, making it very clear what they had in mind. Over exaggerated anxiety caught up with Miyuki and she turned her head back to the door, brown eyes wide as she peered into the darkness beyond, "Are they gone Shizuma?" she asked, straining to make shapes out in the gloom. Shizuma giggled, "I think so, weren't they still by the cloak room looking for us?" she replied, turning her own head to glance behind her. In the brisk wind, her long silver locks bellowed around her and she pushed her fringe awkwardly from her face as she turned back to her room mate. Catching Miyuki's worried gaze, she burst into another giggling fit, covering her mouth with one hand as she almost doubled over. "What was that they were saying outside the loos? Something about my bum?" she asked, losing the battle to maintain a straight face. Miyuki blanched with an appalled look for a moment, remembering the crude demands following the pair as they'd dashed into the girls toilets for safety. Taking on a look of deep concentration, Miyuki attempted to control her fuzzy brain long enough to complete a proper translation, her stoic expression cracking as she began converting some of the cruder phrases from French to Japanese. "Come on Miyuki, you're supposed to be good at this remember?" Shizuma pushed impatiently, poking her friend's satin wrapped tummy in agitation, causing Miyuki to buckle and almost fall to the floor again. Miyuki reeled and paused, letting a wave of dizziness pass, waiting until she'd recovered before continuing to fumble over the words. Her cheeks were a rosy colour as it was, the shade only deepening as she dealt with some of the lewder comments, "The blonde one with the silly shirt," she said, doing her best with the vague mental image, "He said you had great-" and Miyuki's face flushed deep crimson as she approached such unfamiliar and usually unacceptable language. "Said what?" Shizuma prompted, her green eyes sparkling with mischief, "Miyuki, get on with it!" she demanded. Miyuki caught her breath, pausing before continuing, "He said you had great breasts. And-," She tried not to grin, her face taking a stern look, the dark haired third year attempting to appear disapproving and politically correct, "And she said he wanted to bite your ass, because he thought it looked juicy." Shizuma twisted backwards, staring theatrically at her posterior with a raised eyebrow. "Bite it?" she mumbled with an alarmed expression, and Miyuki lost control, intoxication coursing through her veins, prompting another fit of laughter. Closing her eyes, she felt chill tears roll across her warm cheeks, Shizuma followed suit, her serious pretence buckling to fresh giggling. "There was more," Miyuki said, managing to regain control. "The other guy, the one with the stupid glasses?" she gestured vaguely, "He said, um," and she struggled with one word in particular, "chatte, vagin?" she mumbled, her gaze losing focus. Shizuma's deep eyes flashed as she rolled the delicious word from her tongue, "Pussy" Miyuki covered her crimson face as she doubled over again. Half grinning as she watched her fellow third year, Shizuma remarked bluntly, "But I'm not sure I want that one translated," she said, suddenly uncomfortable with the idea of some smelly Frenchmen letching over her so graphically. Sobered by the image, she caught the degree of silliness in their conversation and decided it was time for them both to calm down. Trying to steady herself and the giggling third year before her, she placed a hand on each of Miyuki's bare arms. In retrospect, she'd probably fed Miyuki a little too much vodka, and she grinned again at the thought of the usually straight laced council assistant being so roaringly drunk. But as the amusement passed, she stood for a moment, the world around them still apart from the whistle of the frosty wind whipping across the courtyard and the soft spasms of the Miatorian council assistant that Shizuma was holding. As the haze and distraction dropped away, her perception cleared in the roaring silence, Shizuma taking in her class mate's proximity, the warmth of Miyuki's skin and the shifting fabric of the third year's dress as she breathed. Miyuki was still lost in her amusement, head hung, her long dark hair shimmering in the starlight as the wind shuffled it to and fro. Enthralled, Shizuma smiled softly, her bottomless green eyes considering the form before her. As drunk as she might be, there was no denying that on this night, in these circumstances and in that dress, Miyuki was simply stunning. Her eyes narrowed to glistening emerald slits and Shizuma whispered softly, "So tell me Miyuki, didn't they say anything about you?" Oblivious to Shizuma's attentions, Miyuki raised her head to reply. "Um, that blonde guy, he said-" and she paused, catching something very different about Shizuma's gaze. "He said um..." She fumbled over the repeated words, becoming acutely aware of the tone of her roommate's intent stare. For a second she was back in the French dormitory, Shizuma looking her over as she held the unfurled dress against herf. That piercing Hanazono look, the deep emerald pools threatening to devour her whole. "Said what Miyuki?" Shizuma purred softly, trapping the third year's brown eyes with her own. Leaning closer, she tipped her head slightly with a mischievous expression. Miyuki's cheeks flushed deep crimson and she dropped her gaze, "He said he wanted to..." Shizuma's lips became a single luscious curve, the ends beginning to curl with amusement. Gratification surged through her as she watched Miyuki become self aware, the dark haired girl avoiding Shizuma's stare, her chest rising and falling and her dark pupils swimming wide as goose bumps formed on her skin. "Wanted to what Miyuki?" she pushed, the game in hand all too familiar but so much more compelling given the person she was playing with. She'd never been this aroused before; the idea of tasting her room mate's lips as intoxicating as it was wrong. Through her dark fringe, Miyuki glanced up, anxious and awkward when she found Shizuma was still staring at her, "He said he wanted to... wants to... to fuck me," she finished, struggling uncomfortably with the unfamiliar word. Shizuma smiled, riding the building expectation within her, "He wants to fuck my Miyuki does he?" She asked, emphasising the ownership, feeling the other girl squirm at the repeated expletive. Raising Miyuki's chin with delicate fingers, she leaned closer still, bringing her lips close enough to brush against Miyuki's soft skin. Miyuki paused, frozen solid by the moment. She'd never kissed someone before, let alone like this. Shizuma was her roommate, her friend. In early years, she'd been her mentor. This was... Miyuki looked away, turning her cheek to the girl beside her. Staring at something, anything other than Shizuma, she mumbled quietly, "N.. Not my thing." She stayed there for what seemed like an age, each heart beat marking the passage of time, her breath coming short. Shizuma tipped her head further to one side, her long silver mane falling across one shoulder. Seeing the awkwardness in Miyuki's eyes, the look of apprehension so apparent amongst the other emotions written across the girl's face, Shizuma leaned back, sighing softly. "Oh Miyuki," she whispered, brushing a fond hand across her room mate's cheek. Miyuki was curled up almost defensively, her face hidden by her hair, the young woman similar to a petrified deer under bright headlights. Seeing the discomfort and knowing she'd pushed the boundaries, the Miatorian temptress let the moment go, taking another step back and bowing her head. An awkward moment of silence passed, after which Shizuma looked up from beneath her fringe, grinning playfully as she tried to brush the difficult atmosphere aside, "Don't worry Miyuki, I'll get you one day," she teased. Then with a swish of red fabric and the flick of her long silver locks, the third year disappeared back into the dance hall, opting to leave the dark haired girl alone long enough to regain her composure. Watching her room mate go, Miyuki straightened up, the flush of the alcohol gone, the heady pace of the earlier evening lost. Stood alone, increasingly cold and now very much sober, she felt a sinking feeling in her stomach, a land slide of emotion washing away as the built up apprehension passed. Curling her bare arms around herself, her long black hair sheltering exposed shoulders from the icy wind, the council assistant gazed after the Miatorian, the bold temptress having left a swathe of unrest in her wake as per usual. Still blushing, Miyuki's face took a sad expression, the council assistant suddenly feeling very alone. She dipped her gaze, considering the spider web of their entwined foot prints in the snow beneath her. Round and round they went; a mishmash of their crossed paths. Miyuki looked back towards the waiting doorway, "Not my thing," she repeated to herself wistfully, and brushed a single finger tip gingerly across her lips.
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