"With an ounce of common sense you'd have bought a hamster and taken Kendo like everyone else," Kaname muttered over her shoulder, before glancing down at the muddy flecks splattered across her legs and the hem of her skirt. She grimaced as she brushed at the crusty blotches on her uniform, the action only smudging them into wide sweeping arcs and making the stains appear much worse than they had when she'd started. She sighed, abandoning the effort as she straightened up, waiting as Amane bolted the stable doors closed for the night, the former-Etoile struggling in the bellowing wind. The pair stood amongst the bowing foliage outside the Stable barn, the early evening wind whipping around them, the muffled neighing of unsettled animals within subsiding as Amane called soothingly through the woodwork. There would be storms tonight, Kaname realised, eying the cloudy sky and feeling the first spots of rain on the back of her neck. The weather always turned shitty when she came to this god forsaken hole. Successful in securing the wooden building, Amane turned back to the tennis star, reaching down for the large cloth sack of dirty uniforms that she'd left on the ground beside the water trough, the fifth year finally gathering herself to leave. Spotting Kaname's weary demeanour and troubled brow, she couldn't help but grin as she raked a free hand through her messy black hair. Catching the former-Etoile's amusement, Kaname snapped back wryly, "Don't you dare," she snarled playfully, sighing as she added, "I feel like a farmer." Amane's smirk became a chuckle, and she shrugged blankly as she heaved the sack over her shoulder, the contents one of the few remaining tasks she had left to deal with before shutting the equestrian school down for the winter break. As per usual, Amane would be the first to return, the last to leave, such was her dedication to the unit. As the former-Etoile stepped away from the shelter of the stable building, she too caught the cold precipitate and gestured skyward to her companion, "We should hurry; that's going to come down hard when it gets going." Kaname nodded in agreement, and the two girls hurried out across the school grounds towards the warmth and safety of the Dormitories beyond. With the exertion of walking so quickly it became easier not to attempt conversation, and both girls fell silent, lost in their own thoughts as they travelled. Amane had enjoyed the afternoon, and although the two girls had taken much longer to work through the to-do list together than it usually would have taken Amane to do the jobs alone, the opportunity to teach her new friend the ropes had refreshed the former-Etoile. She'd enjoyed explaining to the council assistant how and why things were done the way they were in the stables, doing her best to involve the dark haired Spican wherever she could, imparting her own enthusiasm and sharing what was obviously a huge part of her life. And although Kaname hadn't intended to be so prissy, her constant and almost comical discomfort, whilst extremely amusing on one hand, had complicated matters on the other and she'd ultimately hindered more than she'd helped. Perhaps there was even a degree of phobia there, Amane pondered, noting how irrational Kaname could be around the horses. Regardless however, the afternoon had provided Amane with precious hours of much needed distraction, taking the former-Etoile's mind off the evening ahead. She still considered the Ball with a degree of trepidation, unsure of her own reaction upon seeing Astrea's new Etoile on the dance floor, uncertain how poignant the memories it might conjure forth could be. Somewhere in the back of her mind however, she caught herself glad that she wouldn't be facing them alone. As the rain hit properly, the two girls sprinted the final span across the Dormitory grounds, the driveway grit kicking up with the full ferocity of the downpour, the earth below them a mat of tiny impacts and shimmering black liquid, the shifting surface mirroring the moody skies above as it raced toward the open drains. Reaching an alcove set within the sweeping outer wall, Amane fumbled in her jacket pocket for one of the housekeeping keys to open the serving entrance stood before them. Although not something officially allowed under the school rules, the popular show jumper had long befriended the kitchen staff enough to buy passage back and forth to the stables whenever she chose, at whatever hour that might happen to be. Kaname, huddled against her fellow fifth year to avoid the downpour, raised a brow in curiosity. "I always wondered how you managed to get out so early," she called over the thunderous drumming around them, grinning despite the trickle of water running from her damp hair, down across her face, "You're gonna be handy in future aren't you," she laughed. Amane rolled her eyes, still struggling with the antiquated lock, "It's for practice Kenjo-san, not crawling home after a night off premises." The council assistant shrugged with feigned innocence, then beckoned for the show jumper to hurry up, the icy pelt chilling her back as it found a way through her collar line and out across her previously dry skin. "God woman, go faster already, this is freezing!" she snapped. Feeling a feint click from the mechanism, Amane stepped back, taking another barrage from the thunderstorm whilst pulling the door wide for her companion. "For someone so self-assured, you don't half whine a lot Kaname," she replied. The council assistant curled her lip into a playful sneer and then passed by, out into the Dormitory grounds proper. Bolting across the courtyard after slamming the wooden portal closed again, the two Spicans raced to the kitchen doorway, pulling at their boots awkwardly whilst ducking in beneath the shelter of the masonry overhang above them. Stepping onto the damp gravel, feeling her socks soak through instantly, Kaname grumbled again, reminding Amane of a disgruntled old man who'd just woken to find his afternoon cup of tea had very thoughtlessly gone cold during an unexpected nap. The tennis star was so indignant in her disapproval, so thoroughly annoyed that Amane couldn't help but laugh again, prompting a raised eyebrow from the taller girl beside her, "What?" she said, failing to silence her own urge to laugh, "What?!" The former-Etoile grinned and shook her head, resting a hand briefly on Kaname's arm. "Thank you Kenjo-san," she said, looking the older girl in the eye. Perplexed and completely forgetting the pouring rain around her, the council assistant straightened up, looking her companion over with bemusement. "For what Amane?" she asked. But her fellow fifth year just smiled, and twisting a second key in the lock before her, she cracked the kitchen door open. "First or second in the shower?" Amane asked, ignoring the question, motioning into the gloom beyond. But Kaname failed to respond, still looking for subtext. "Fine, you get second then," the show jumper declared, disappearing into the waiting portal before her. Watching the slender woman melt into the pitch black preparation room, Kaname's face retained its puzzled grin. - - - - - "Okay, so now I understand," Emmie grinned, peering through the windscreen as the vehicle's wipers raced furiously back and forth, washing away the obscuring torrent of rain from their view. Sat in Emmie's purring Aston Martin, the two girls looked out across the busy Christmas street towards one of the department stores located on the near corner of the pedestrianised area. Regardless of the heavy rain and bitingly cold winds, the city centre was still heaving with early evening shoppers, and the couple had to strain to see the window in question amongst the throng of people passing by. Conscious of the number of cars attempting to overtake her against the returning traffic on the other side of the road, Emmie flicked the indicator as she reached over her shoulder to see if the road was clear. "I'll pull into the multi-storey," she said, grinning again as she caught Nagisa's appreciative smile. "I only wish I had the chance to be there. I'd love to see the look on Shizuma's face," the French woman chuckled, and making sure the way was clear, she let the handbrake lose and slid the sleek black automobile back into motion, adding enthusiastically, "Because tonight, my dear, you are going to look absolutely stunning." - - - - - "Your turn hamster girl," Amane remarked as she reappeared from the bathroom, a soft white towel wrapped around her, a corner of which she was using to ruffle her dark bob. Kaname looked up from her place perched on the Dormitory window sill, twisting her face in mock contempt, "I had a gerbil I'll have you know," she said, beginning the difficult task of unbuttoning her soggy white top, "and it was a damn sight easier to clean out than that monstrosity in the stables." Her eyes flashed as the former Etoile dismissed the remark, continuing to dry herself off. Managing the final button, Kaname pulled the sagging garment free from her shoulders, carefully hanging the saturated fabric across the back of Amane's desk chair, "I've never seen so much shit in my life," she grimaced, and then leered as she continued in her mocking tone, "How can you adore that thing so much?" Amane shook her head, and then rolled her neck to relax her tense shoulders. Despite the light-hearted atmosphere, deep within she could feel the anxiety quietly growing. The Ball was going to be far from an easy affair, and Kaname's eyes narrowed as she picked up on the young woman's thoughtful pause. Stood in her bra and briefs, the council assistant already having shed her soaking wet skirt, Kaname turned to reach for one of the spare towels that Amane had gathered for them on the bed, the former-Etoile catching the intention and passing it to her directly. Standing face to face, Kaname was about to impart a snide comment about scholarship students and single rooms to derail her friend's downward slide, when, to their collective surprise, there was a click from the Dormitory door behind them. Turning in shock, the two semi-naked girls looked back to find they'd been joined by another figure, the newcomer dressed in sopping wet beige coloured slacks and a plain white sports top, their face covered by a raised hood. The stranger was leant back against the door, breathing heavily from some previous exertion, regarding the Spican pair from beneath the soft shroud. "Is there something we can do for you?" Kaname called sternly, the fifth year moving to cover her exposed chest with the towel that Amane had handed to her. The show jumper had reacted similarly, moving to cover herself more properly. But the stranger didn't reply, and Amane craned her neck to see. The individual was shorter than the pair of them, petite in build, elegant curves only partially obscured by the looseness of the heavily drenched jogging bottoms. From the stance and the leg line, it was obviously a young woman. Amane's heart jumped. - - - - - They're laughing. Stood in the dim hallway light, the young figure huddled against the bedroom door with her ear bent to the woodwork, her clouded mind surprised and confused by the jovial echoes drifting from the Dormitory. Why are they laughing? All thoughts of remaining concealed long abandoned, the young woman pressed harder, feeling the water on her skin squelch against the oak surface, desperate to hear clearly through the wooden slab. Perhaps it was someone else? Perhaps the Dormitories had changed? Panic rising within her, worried as to who or what she might find inside, the nervous figure fought with her apprehension, trying to gather herself enough to crack the door, to enquire within. But in her winter shell of loneliness and isolation, the young woman had never imagined she might return to hear this, to hear anything but a resounding silence or low sobbing coming from this Dormitory, to find a mournful loss fit to match her own. Hurt and increasingly unnerved, the hooded figure reached for the brass handle before her. - - - - - "Do you mind?" Kaname reasserted with an angry tone to her voice, but Amane had already stepped forward, ignoring the council assistant behind her. "Hikari?" the unnerved woman asked, her voice broken, her hand outstretched gingerly, not wanting to believe her eyes and yet unable to stop her feet from approaching. The stranger remained stationary, frozen to the spot. Kaname swept across the room, reaching for Amane's shoulder in an attempt at stopping her companion, "Amane, don't -" But before she could finish, the youngster let loose a terrifyingly pitched scream, falling backwards over her feet as she scrambled to reopen the door. Lunging forward, Amane caught the girl's top, halting her retreat, the soft woollen hood falling away in the brief struggle. Piercing blue eyes stared back at the fifth year, their rims already red and filling with fresh tears, the familiar yet unexpected features twisted in anguish. Soaked to the teeth, expression unhinged and her lip quivering as her eyes welled, Hikari Konohana stood before them, her long blonde locks a damp mess and her skin pale and blotchy from the evening's exposure to the elements. "Hikari..." Amane repeated, but having eased her grip in astonishment, Amane fumbled as the tiny third year pulled her garment free, turning again before disappearing through the door and out into the corridor beyond. Mindless of her scant attire, Amane bolted after her, the two girls vanishing through the Dormitory doorway as Kaname hurriedly pulled her top back on, desperate to follow the pair. - - - - - "Hikari!" the show jumper screamed, barrowing down the hallway towards the fire escape at the end of the corridor. The tiny third year was sprinting though, and not encumbered by her lack of clothing as Amane was, she cleared the wooden hallway long before the fifth year could catch up, the fire door banging back and forth as she disappeared into the stairwell behind. Amane put her head down, slamming into the door, tumbling as she lost her balance, trying to avoid the figure suddenly apparent beyond. For some reason, Hikari had stopped on the landing, her tiny body curled against the railings, and as Amane twisted to avoid her, the two collided in a mass of bodies, a sickening crunch to be heard as the fifth year hit the wall opposite the door frame. Bewildered, Amane tried to push herself up from the deck, doing what she could to reorientate herself. Hikari, the blonde third year still lying on the floor beside her, was face down, trying to push herself up onto her knees. "Hikari," the fifth year stammered, fighting a wave of nausea from the impact. The younger girl shook her head, her matted blonde curls a damp brown mess. She looked sideways, her eyes shadowed by tears, her small lips parsed in confused rejection. For a moment, there was little but the sound of their panting breaths. "Amane-senpai?" she finally managed, her look of anguish beginning to fade, returning to one of youthful bewilderment. The fifth year squinted, trying to clear her head. The fall had jarred her, and the side of her head and left shoulder were throbbing painfully. "Hikari, why did you run?" she asked, her own confusion telling, "Where have you been? How long have you been back?" she pressed, But the younger girl simply crawled forward on her hands and knees, stopping beside the former-Etoile. "You're hurt..." Hikari mumbled, reaching for the side of Amane's head. The fifth year felt a woozy sensation in the pit of her stomach, and closed her eyes briefly to help it subside. "You ran Hikari?" she repeated, speaking from behind the shelter of her smothering eyelids. The third year paused, not reaching any further, her hand hanging in the void between them. Amane was barely covered, her towel landing in the same mismatched state the fifth year had, and both her pale shoulders were exposed, her sloping neck line framed by the painted woodwork behind her, the fifth year's ruffled hair a messy shock above. Aware of, and suddenly uncomfortable in the extended silence, Amane reopened her eyes to find Hikari staring at her, watching as the youngster's expression changed, "Amane-senpai..." the little blonde repeated, her blue eyes soft. The Spican star felt her back stiffen as she shifted her weight, ill at ease and conscious of the cold air on her skin. She moved to cover herself better. "Hikari, why did you run?" she asked again, hoping for a response. The youngster's face dropped, and she rocked back to sit on her heels, her head hung, her puffy face hidden by her dirty curls. "Amane-senpai was... was laughing," she said, exuding rejection and hurt, her bottom lip curled. The fifth year tipped her head, closing her eyes in understanding. "I..." She wasn't sure what to say, suddenly very aware of how the happy atmosphere in the Dormitory might have been perceived without knowing the subtext beneath it. She took a deep breath, searching for a response, "But Hikari, I -" The third year cut her off, "I was so desperate to see Amane-senpai, so needed to be with her," and she dipped her blue pools again, her face written in misery, "When she ended our call, I was so scared I'd made her angry, that she wouldn't want to see me again," And caught up in her wave of panic and reconciliation, she leaned fully forward, reaching to kiss her beloved, to wrap herself up in Amane's arms and wash the pain away. The fifth year took a sharp intake of breath, confused by the statement, and buckling under the sudden and marked discomfort that having the youngster's body so close to her now brought. The show jumper recoiled away, turning her cheek to the third year. Hikari froze, her blue eyes yawning wide. "Amane-senpai?" Moments passed, their hearts pounding in the silence. Letting her breath slip, Amane slowly pulled herself up, the third year falling backward as the older girl straightened her back again. Unspoken signals shot between them, Hikari confused, distressed, not wanting to process what she was feeling, Amane unnerved, on edge, feeling uncomfortable on one hand and yet desperately concerned for the youngster on the other. She couldn't shake the memories or the shame that accompanied them. "Is it because I left?" Hikari mumbled, her eyes blurring. Amane took too long to gather herself, too long to regain her composure, "Does Amane-senpai love someone else now?" the blonde continued, her blue eyes swimming, "Does she not want me anymore?" The fifth year couldn't find the words, didn't know how to explain; her mouth opened but the words refused to fall out. Hikari's face contorted further, "Amane-senpai?" The anguish was so obvious, the little one pouring her heart out in a frantic need for acceptance, to be told she was still good enough. "I..." Amane stalled, and the third year began her own recoil, her tiny hand coming to the pit of chest, her head dipped forward as she stared out from beneath her hair. "Am I not... not right?" she muttered incoherently. Shaking her head to snap herself together, Amane reached forward, "Hikari, no, it's nothing like that. I just..." She faltered again, and Hikari's little face broke, "Is Kenjo-san prettier than me?" she asked, her voice twisting as she forced the awful words out. "Does she do those things... those..." That was as far as she could go, the surging wave of emotion breaking within. "Did I do it wrong?" she finally asked, tears racing from their place of release. Amane's face dropped in dismay, "Hikari I -" But the gathering sounds in the corridor behind them peaked, and with a clunk the fire door swung open, the haphazardly dressed form of Kaname Kenjo appearing from amongst the crowd of curious Dormitory inhabitants she'd held at bay. Forcing the door closed behind her, Kaname stepped forward, "Amane, they -" But it was all too much, and finally Hikari bolted, crashing messily down the stairs as she fled from the horrific confrontation. Amane reached to follow, but Kaname's firm grip stopped her, the towering council assistant holding her companion's arm with grim resolution. "Amane no, let her go, leave her," she repeated, and the show jumper turned to her companion with a raw glaze, her distressed mind not processing the words. "Let her go," the council assistant repeated. And as two girls held their ground, the stairwell around them thumping with heavy footfalls from below, their ears swam with the echoed cries of the tiny third crashing her way down the antiquated wooden stairwell. "Why would you?" she was crying, repeating over and over, "Why?" And despite the occasional pause as the third year fell to her knees on a stairway landing, the tiny figure disappeared, leaving the two girls above in unsettled, stoic silence. - - - - - Metallic-tipped heels rang crisp in the poorly lit corridor, the sound musical amongst the previously dusty silence, soaring high above the now hushed murmurs emanating from the throng of students gathered around Tamao. The dark haired Etoile had spent the entire afternoon in a flap, struggling to manage the final details alone, working her way back and forth between the Miator grand hall, the Sister's office where the proceeds and security keys were kept, and her own lonely Dormitory where she'd somehow found time to prepare her own attire and appearance. Chihaya and Mizushima had been a valuable aide, both girls doing their best to help the flustered fourth year in Nagisa's very noticeable absence, while the more detached Hitomi and Mizuho did their part in the background, not needing anywhere near as much input from the young Etoile. Regardless, with everyone pulling together, even little Chiyo who regularly returned for fresh burden to add to her mounting pile, the girls had eventually managed to finish the job. Stood in the yawning corridor, the group had been working their way through one final check, Tamao nodding in relief as each point received a positive response from one of her attendees when the echoing clip of metal against wood announced the younger Etoile's return to premises. "Etoile-sama," came the hushed greetings, the parade of students lowering their eyes and parting pensively as the commanding figure swept through the hallway before them, approaching her waiting peer at the other end. As the wave of bodies parted, Tamao caught her breath, taking in the sight before her. "Nagisa..." For a moment, Tamao was back at the theatre during the autumn play, stood in apprehensive silence in the shadows of stage right, watching with awe as her young roomie walked out onto the stage, donned in Chikaru's Carmen outfit. Nagisa had obviously been shopping, her new dress nothing like the politely conservative first choice that Tamao had spotted in their dorm, the rich crimson garment before her flowing tightly across Nagisa's figure, the open midriff showcasing her tight tummy, the long sweeping hem split on one side to glimpse her perfect legs. Gathering into a dark halter that encircled the fourth year's slender neck, the bare shoulders and fitted sleeves retained the sultry Spanish look that the Carmen dress had given her before, and the young Etoile's auburn hair gathered into tight braids that stretched back across her scalp, flowering into a colourful shock of red and black that contrasted perfectly with the silky skin of her exposed lower back. She looked stunning, the combination of dark mascara and her deep brown eyes, rich lipstick and the translucent bloodstone hanging idly from her polished Etoile pedant... It was as though the Aoi girl had left premises and aged five years before returning, such was the impact of the young woman's new attire. "Nagisa?" the fourth year repeated. In comparison, Tamao looked like the good fairy to Nagisa's evil succubus, her ice-blue dress archetypical of conservative Ball gowns, her shoulders covered, the plunging front correct in its depth and the amount of flesh it exposed. Her hair hung loose, combed to perfection, every strand falling correctly, her makeup modest and underplaying her sapphire eyes and pretty smile. Everything about her screamed reserved and sophisticated, the complete opposite of her partner before her. From amongst the crowd behind them, a quiet voice offered, "Etoile-sama look amazing together; like Cinderella and the beautiful but evil Queen come to enchant her." There were murmurs of approval and agreement, and Tamao caught a twinkle in Nagisa's eye. "Good evening Tamao-chan," she offered. Tamao's shoulders slumped, the tension and stress from the day's preparation sliding into utter defeat. She'd planned to be angry when Nagisa returned, wanted to dress her companion down the way she'd seen Miyuki do so many times before, the rebellious red head having done exactly what the school council President had told Tamao to expect her to do; to let Tamao down when she needed her most. But here, stood before her in that delicious outfit, all Tamao could do was melt. "Nagisa-chan," she repeated in hushed awe, "you look..." Nagisa smiled, her expression one of mature appreciation rather than her usual flush of youthful embarrassment, her confidence now in check, her self-image secure. In the car on the way home, she'd decided the time to readdress her friendship with the pretty fourth year was long overdue; that the difficulty between them was unnecessary and spawned more from the snowball of emotional baggage this final term had brought her than anything sinister or underhand. She'd simply been too stretched to discern the difference before, too distracted to accept the effect the now infinitely more mature tone of her relationship with Shizuma might have had on the people around her. There was no need for the animosity to continue, and as soon as she had a spare moment, she aimed to have a long discussion with her roommate to that end. But in the mean time, while time was short and there were still more pressing matters at hand, warm acceptance and a fresh start were due. There would be nothing more that the young woman would fail to cope with, she pledged. Reaching forward, she took Tamao by the hand, smiling warmly, "You look radiant Cinderella-chan," she teased, and sighed in satisfaction as she glanced about happily at the gathering of extravagantly dressed seniors. "We're all set?" she asked. Caught off guard by the warm reception, Tamao could simply nod. "Then it's time we began," the red head noted with a grin, the fourth year nodding to the girls around her in appreciation before leading her fellow Etoile back towards the grand hall. - - - - - "I'm not leaving you in this state and that's final," Kaname repeated, her brow creased as she ploughed back through Amane's drawer for an appropriate outfit, the subdued fifth year next to her having once again suggested that she not attend, that the whole subject was causing way too much trouble. Kaname sneered in dismissal; there was no way she was going to leave the show jumper alone just to have Hikari reappear. The tiny blonde had already done enough damage as it was; there was no way she was going to permit further disruption. But time was short and the lack of options were making life difficult. This was the Astrea Christmas Ball; Amane wouldn't be permitted entrance in any old junk, and the fifth year had obviously disposed of anything she might have brought previously to provide herself with a convenient excuse not to attend. Kaname was beginning to panic, noting that were she completely honest with herself, the reappearance of Amane's young lover had unnerved the council assistant almost as much as it had unnerved Amane herself. Was she right? Had she heard the tiny third year say something about that phone call? Kaname eyed the failed Etoile nervously, wondering whether the comment had drawn the show jumper's suspicions. But given Amane's apparently docile demeanour so far, it seemed very unlikely. Continuing her search, Kaname muttered with false preoccupation, "I have to make an appearance, I don't get a choice; it's part of being on the school student council. And there's no way I'm leaving you here to deal with this alone," she stressed, throwing a sideways glance at the other Spican, making sure the young woman perched in an emotional heap on the end of her Dormitory bed had caught the paternal sentiment that she'd layered for her. Amane was a shell, her inner flame snuffed by the unexpected encounter and her inability to explain to, or reassure the young blonde. She'd wanted to reach for her former beloved, to curl the tiny figure into her arms and take the hurt away, to fix what she'd broken. But the fifth year couldn't, her actions stopped by the knowledge that opening that door would only make matters worse in the long run, only confuse the tiny Spican further. She'd felt dirty and ashamed, wrong for having taken such youthful innocence and derailed it, wrong for being so unable to set things right afterward. "I'm a monster," she muttered, holding her head in her hands as she stared in anguish at the floor "a letching, perverted monster." "Amane!" the council assistant snapped. Kaname's anger was obvious, her face vexed with a combination of frustration and panic. This was all going wrong; days of work, all that time invested only to have the little bitch reappear and ruin it. "Enough," she reasserted, stabbing a finger at the fifth year in declaration, "The only thing you're guilty of is being human. Now stop this self-defeating bullshit." The council assistant stepped towards the crumbled figure, tossing the collection of potential garments she'd found onto the desk to her left. "You made a mistake, an honest, human mistake. She's young and immature, and no one can do this for her. Give it time and she'll figure this out on her own." Her voice dropped, the council assistant opting to take a calmer approach as her mental thread came together, the fifth year directing her ongoing sermon down a newly found arc. Figuring reason work would better than raw aggression, Kaname offered cold, hard logic, the tall tennis star stood with her arms crossed behind the failed Etoile. "If it hadn't been you Amane, it would have been someone else, and properly someone a lot less respectable at that. We all go through this shit; I know I did. Now stop stressing yourself out about something you can't change." Amane shook her head again, still resting it in regretful hands, her dark bob a mess of tufts escaping between her fingers. Kaname pushed again, "You feel responsible Amane, I know that. But think about it for a moment; look at Shizuma. Did she react any differently with Nagisa?" and the fifth year caught a shift in Amane's eyes, realizing the tact was working, "How were you to know any different? Can you read minds? The two girls are the same age even if they are in different years. How were you to know that Hikari wasn't ready?" Amane lifted her head, her vision impaired by fresh tears. She looked at Kaname with a look of clouded consideration. Knowing she was on a roll, Kaname rammed her point home, once again building her voice for effect, "Now how about, just this once; how about you do what's good for Ohtori-san?" She stepped away, off handily delivering her final line as she turned back toward the messy bedroom drawer, "And for fucksake Amane, how about you let someone else in this time, rather than hiding in those shitty stables pretending it will all go away?" - - - - - Kizuna bounced, clutching for Remon beside her, the second year's slender hand waving vaguely towards the front of the hall before them. "Look, look!" she called eagerly, the heads of the girls waiting nearby them also turning in the direction she was pointing, "They're cutting the ribbons!" she beamed. Stood in the shelter of the Miator school entrance hall, it's understated and formal looking décor redressed for a party, the ceiling criss-crossed with banners and balloons and the curtains laced with ribbons, a throng of smartly dressed students, all of whom had gathered to be first to glimpse the fully decorated Ball venue, now strained to see the roped off fire door at the far end of the hall way. Traditionally it would have been the front doors of the school building itself tied with the huge green bow that now adorned the fire exit, but given the shockingly poor weather outside and the flimsy but extremely smart dress of the students waiting patiently within, it would have been less than fair to ask the girls to gather on the driveway as per convention. Straining to see the front, Kizuna squeezed her companion's forearm, sighing as she caught sight of the new Etoile in their stunning attire. "Oh Remon look, aren't they amazing?" she murmured wistfully, smiling as the fourth year couple made their way to the front, Nagisa's heels clipping audibly amongst the admiring gasp of the congregation. They looked breathtaking together. "Etoile, light and dark," someone mumbled behind them, and Kizuna giggled in excitement, catching the fairy tale theme. Remon strained, craning her neck as she peered around over the rim of her glasses. "Where has Kagome-chan gone? She's going to miss the show if she doesn't hurry." - - - - - "Oh my," Kaname breathed, her dark eyes twinkling through the sloping arc of her coal black fringe, "Now that's something else entirely," she muttered. Stood in the middle of the room, a reluctant looking Amane shifted weight from one foot to the other, feeling uncomfortably exposed in the tight burgundy cocktail dress that she had just emerged from the bathroom wearing. She felt no more comfortable in it now than she had when the girls had gone shopping, and were it not for her confounded state of mind, she'd have blanket refused to attend were she forced to go to the Ball looking like this. Instead, when Kaname had pulled the garment from her travel bag, she'd simply sighed in resignation, "I have no idea how it got in there," the show jumper muttered, her mind still distracted by events in the fire escape, "I was sure I'd left it at the changing room. I guess Shizuma must have paid and slipped it into my bag that evening." Stepping back to admire the other girl's figure, Kaname had to admit that, in this singular instance, Shizuma had certainly displayed great taste. "Now all you need is a ticket, and I'm sure I can work something out on the door," she said, her determination set. Amane was hardly a common face in the crowd, and they were bound to let her off the entrance fee given the circumstances. That or Kaname would break their faces the following day. There was no way she was going to risk attending the Ball without the former Etoile however, not with the knowledge that Hikari might return while the council assistant was gone. In her currently bewildered state, Amane was still pliable, controllable if Kaname could keep the two apart long enough to channel her fellow fifth year's thoughts in the right direction, and if things fell right, the tiny third year's return might not become the issue it could be otherwise. Standing to her full height, Kaname smoothed her own black Ball dress out, checking her face briefly before turning to organise the distraught mess before her. "Amane come on, it's time. No more moping, no more sulk. We're going to have fun tonight or die trying," she said firmly, nudging at the fifth year to stress the point. Amane remained blank, too drawn to argue, too tired to resist. The young woman's mind still a million miles away, she merely nodded and gathered her things, making sure she had her door key so they could get back in later. Stopping for a moment, she stared briefly at the mirror, the reflection staring back resembling the same alien face that had peered toward her in the department store changing room all those moons ago. She wouldn't need to see the new Etoile on the dance floor, she grimaced. Just looking in the mirror brought it all flooding back as it was, and none of the memories it conjured included the happy times. Instead they cut straight to the chase and the day when it had all started going wrong. Having resolved to suffer her penance as required, the weary Spican followed her fellow fifth year out through the waiting Dormitory door. - - - - - Sauntering her way past the many onlookers and turning heads, former-Miatorian Etoile Shizuma Hanazono approached the main entrance to the founding school's Grand Hall. Dressed in a flowing emerald gown, her long silver hair enveloping her porcelain smooth shoulders and exposed lower back, the sixth year glided across the entranceway, her deep green eyes thoughtful and ponderous. She'd not seen Nagisa since breakfast, the tiny red head having disappeared out with Emmie again. Having completed her allotted tasks and delivered the remaining floristry required for the Ball, the solitary upperclassman had retired to her own Dorm, waiting hopefully for Nagisa to return so that the young couple could spend some time together before the Ball. But when her fiancée failed to return in time, Shizuma had reluctantly resigned to begin the evening alone, sure that Nagisa and Emmie had just been caught up in their study related distractions or the heavy holiday traffic on the way back from town. Emmie's entrances were always flawlessly timed; never too early to seem eager, never too late to make a scene, and Shizuma was sure the same would be true of Nagisa's return tonight. Anything to keep everyone sweating she smiled to herself. Meandering through the brightly decorated hallway, returning the polite nods of the students around her as they admired her appearance, Shizuma took in the décor, the pretty gold balloons, the holly green ribbons and the rich chocolate banners that fell from the ceiling, the pale printed kanji across them wishing the reader a Merry Yuletide. She smiled, always having loved this time of year, despite the feelings of rejection and isolation it had sometimes conjured during her junior years, having been put into boarding by her mother. Those long terms as an underclassman had been so confusing, the joy and happiness she would find among her friends and classmates constantly underwritten by the nagging sense of loss that she'd suffered whilst being filed so far away from home. They never called, never wrote. It had been as though her parents had forgotten her completely, and although now fully aware of the reasons behind that absence, it had taken Shizuma many, many months to forgive her Mother afterward. Reaching the antiquated fire doors that the Miatorian girls were using as a main entrance, Shizuma ran her fingers across the Ball ticket she was carrying, tipping her head as she moved to greet one of the fifth year girls stood on door duty, the brunette ready to greet the former-Etoile as etiquette dictated. But before she could step forward, a husky voice behind her called for the sixth year's attention, "Hanazono-san, I believe you're responsible for this?" came the call. Turning, Shizuma beamed with an involuntary smile. "Oh my Amane, now where did you get that dress?" she asked with feigned innocence, watching as the two Spican seniors approached her having discarded their overcoats and umbrella at the cloakroom. Kaname was smiling her sly smile, relishing the tease, the show jumper on her arm obviously a cherished acquisition. "I must compliment your taste Shizuma," the tennis star continued as she purred with satisfaction. Shizuma grinned, and reached for the former Etoile beside her, "Amane, you look radiant," she whispered, greeting her friend with a warm hug. But as they parted, despite the Spican's curt nod of acceptance, Shizuma noted the troubled look swimming behind the fifth year's dark mascara. Confused, the Hanazono girl furrowed her brow in question. Amane shook her head subtly, her eyes still visibly distressed. "Not here," she mumbled, and stepped back to her place beside the council assistant. Shizuma frowned in concern, confused as to Amane's comment and trying to second guess the cause. Surely if Amane hadn't have wanted to come tonight she'd have stayed behind? "Well I've managed to get her this far Shizuma, let's see if she'll actually enter the premises," Kaname joked dryly, the humour failing to impact with either of the two girls she was addressing. Noting the pause, Kaname hurried her companion on, "Good evening Hanazono-san," she said in a formal tone, nodding politely as the former-Etoile's position required. Shizuma nodded in reply, watching with contemplation as the Spican couple dealt briefly with the official welcome and ticket inspection at the door, before disappearing through the fire exit in front of them. Taking a deep breath, the sixth year moved to follow, unaware of the jealous brown eyes that had also considered the exchange behind her. - - - - - "Don't turn round Kagome-chan." The call had come from behind the tiny first year, the Lulim girl stood beside the stage area with Chiyo as they watched the wide Miatorian hall fill with brightly dressed gowns and dresses. The doors had been open almost a full twenty minutes now, and as more and more of the Dormitory students arrived, the observing first years had been stunned to silence by the gathering crowd. Kagome herself was the picture of elegance, the youngster dressed in a floor length gown that gave her the appearance of a mature young lady, rather than the teddy wielding junior that the Dormitories had come to know and love. Her mousey brown ringlets framing her pretty face and her deep green eyes swimming with the amazing sights before her, the little one had jumped at the sound of her name and the voice that had used it. "Chikaru-senpai?" she called quietly, not wanting to disobey and turn to her addresser, but confused as to the request all the same. "Stay right there," came the fifth year's voice. Kagome did as she was told, her slender hands clasped at her waist, stood to perfect attention as required. Chiyo was beaming beside her, and from the corner of her vision she caught the ice-green shimmer of Remon's dress, the second year grinning over her glasses at the youngster. "Um..." Kagome mumbled, her confusion mounting. "A moment longer," Chikaru teased, her soft voice musical amongst the background chatter floating throughout the hall. It was dim in the chamber, the coloured spots and the numerous candles giving the venue a warm but atmospheric glow. "And..." Chikaru paused, "..there!" she called. Kagome turned, her deep green eyes peering out from beneath her fringe. Chikaru was stood before her, Kizuna in her brown dress on one side, Remon on the other. The school council President was exemplary in her midnight-blue kimono, the Lulim girl once again having gone far beyond everyone else; daring to wear the most modern reworking of the traditional Japanese Hikizuri. Wrapped within the slinky satin folder over, the outfit was an eclectic mix of reserved cut and smouldering Geisha suggestion, the usually thick layers cut back to showcase her figure, her dark hair uncharacteristically drawn into a tight weave, the plain wooden sticks holding her topknot above dipping as she moved. Smiling through the thick makeup she'd worn to match the outfit, the Lulim president's eyes twinkled with mischief. Before her, held in her outstretched hands was a neatly wrapped parcel. "Happy Christmas Byakuden-san" she said, grinning as she offered the present. Kagome's little jaw dropped, the first year overwhelmed. Certainly no one had told her to expect presents, and she felt ashamed at not having prepared any to give to the others. Chiyo, still dressed in her Miatorian uniform as she'd predicted she would be, nudged the youngster in the ribs. "Open it Kagome-chan," and she whispered in a tiny voice, "you shouldn't keep Minamoto-san waiting, it's rude." Kagome's lips parsed, and she dipped her head further, "Minamoto-senpai," she began quietly, "I didn't know we were giving presents." Chikaru grinned, "We're not Kagome-chan," and she teased ambiguously, "I am." Kagome's lips twisted into a shameful pout, and she lowered her eyes as she reached forward, feeling awkward about accepting the gift. Taking the brown parcel, the paper tied neatly with a bright red bow, the first year looked about, hopelessly lost. Chiyo beckoned her toward the corner of the stage, ushering her in excitement, "Open it here Kagome-chan," she said, "I'll make space." Kagome did as she was told, Chiyo sweeping the gathered papers from the wooden surface, the other girls gathering around them to see Chikaru's gift. Staring intently as the youngster carefully undid the ribbon bow, Chikaru clasped her hands together beneath her chin, brimming with excitement. "Oh..." Kagome mumbled, her green eyes wide with surprise as she viewed the open parcel before her. Kizuna clapped in approval, bouncing up and down as she grinned at Chikaru enthusiastically. "At St Lulim Girl's school we're not the competitive type, unlike the students of Miator and Spica," Chikaru began, explaining her reasoning behind the choice of gift, "but we still do our best to reward those among us who do outstanding things." Stepping forward, she took the object from the crumbled paper it was cradled in, unfurling it as she held her offering up to the overwhelmed first year before her. "So as a token of my appreciation for all your hard work as my personal assistant, I would like to present you with your official assistant's jersey, Kagome Byakuden, and look forward to the coming year, with you continuing to work at my side." Accompanied by a murmur of wonderment from the girls around them, Kagome looked up at Chikaru, the tiny figure watching as Chikaru curled the hand-embroided cardigan around the little one's shoulders. Unlike the standard Lulim uniform, Chikaru's creation featured delicately weaved patterns that boarded the cuffs, the dark markings recounting the school motto in its Latin form, the right garment breast marked with a special school emblem, declaring the bearer as an official part of the Lulim student council. "I've made sure that the staff and fellow council members are aware of the significance, and from now on you'll be greeted in the appropriate manner, council assistant Byakuden-san." Kizuna bubbled over again, and Kagome, peering up at the taller girl before her, offered her humble gratitude, "Thank you very much Minamoto-senpai," she mumbled, her tiny voice even softer than usual, her bottom lip full to the brim. "Kagome-chan isn't used to being made an exception," she said quietly. Chikaru beamed, her pretty eyes sparkling from behind her pale Geisha foundation, "But you're a very exceptional person Kagome, so it's about time that changed." Then, glancing around quickly, she scanned the mass of bodies for an opening, "Shall we find a better spot? The Etoile should be here any moment." - - - - - It's all going wrong. Staring out across sea of girls milling their way through the wide events room, Kaname peered from beneath the shadow of the Balcony overhang, the moody council assistant propping up one of the oak pillars, her jaw set and her dark eyes mirroring the flickering candle light beyond. Her coal black fringe skirting her thunderous expression, she gazed intently out across the crowd, hoping to god she didn't spot the delicate features of the blonde third year responsible for the evening's unrest. Amane had retired to the restroom, the young woman still an obnoxious emotional mess, her nerve shattered and her continuous state of distraction nothing like the jovial evening the council assistant had planned. This was supposed to be her crowning glory, her moment of triumph, and she snorted in contempt at the irony of her situation; here was her grand end to the term, hoards of admiring juniors and Kaname's jilted ex looking on with envy as the two Spican superstars graced the Ball arm in arm, one strong woman beside the next. If only the reality were even close. Instead, Amane was hiding in the loo, and Kaname stood alone, waiting for the whole diabolical disaster to end. Things were not supposed to be happening this way. And as she watched Amane reappear from the toilet door on the other side of the room, she wondered how much longer it would take for things to unravel entirely, how long before the understatedly-attractive young woman approaching her ran back to her snivelling little bitch, costing Kaname not only her previous relationship, but any chance of a future one to follow it. - - - - - "Well," Nagisa asked, her sultry eyes flicking sideways, her deep brown gaze regarding the other Etoile, Tamao stood beside her, "Shall we?" Reaching forward, her slender fingers curling around the heavy curtain edge, preparing to draw aside the thick fabric that sheltered them from the excited crowd beyond, Nagisa watched as Tamao turned to her partner, her features set, the young woman trying to prepare herself mentally for the grand event. Meeting the red head's gaze, the raven haired senior looked questioningly into her old friend's eyes, unsure of the sudden recompense, unsure how to read the change of tone, but unspeakably thankful nonetheless. She'd thought she'd ruined it all. She'd thought this was gone. Nagisa's shining platinum band glinted in the dim light as she held the curtain, the red head watching as she waited for Tamao's response. The past few days had been a blur of preparation and emotional turmoil, the term finally drawing to its climatic peak this coming moment, yet Tamao could only have wished for this outcome, could only have prayed for the chance at a clean slate. 'To become the finest Etoile Astrea has ever seen,' the fourth year repeated in her head, remembering Miyuki's words from the Dormitory lounge so many weeks before. Together, with this fresh understanding apparent between them, perhaps that might actually be achievable; and for their own gratification this time, rather than some sick attempt at revenge on the council President's behalf. Perhaps, with the mess finally behind them, the two friends could face the future side by side, their foundations strong once more, their Etoile partnership everything it should have been from the start. "Together, Nagisa-chan?" she asked, her voice trembling with underwritten emotion. Smiling fondly as she touched her dear friend's arm, Nagisa nodded resolutely, "Together Tamao-chan," she replied, pausing for a moment to hold the deep blue gaze staring back at her. Then with a warm smile, the young woman pushed back the heavy shroud, stepping forth into the glaring spotlight and rising applause from the stage beyond. - - - - - Shizuma turned the stiff white card in her hands over and over, her green eyes flicking up toward the balcony above, scouring the dimly lit overhang for its source. Perplexed, she reread the single italic phrase inscribed in gold across one side, 'Chalon-sur-Saône' The card has been delivered by an embarrassed looking first year, the youngster flushed and self-conscious, her lack of ease not easily dismissed and her explanation hasty, the formal greetings rushed so she could depart as fast as possible, "Someone is waiting for you on the Balcony," she'd said, before disappearing off into the crowd with a hurried bow. Noting the ripple of applause emanating from the stage to her right, Shizuma decided she may as well indulge the request a little of her time; her view of Nagisa would be much better from the balcony anyway, and the card tweaked her interest. There weren't many people that would remember that name. Gathering her dress so the shimmering fabric wouldn't trail across the floor, the slender upperclassman climbed the winding wooden stairway, glancing occasionally at the stage below, watching with a smile as various figures scuttled across the raised platform, preparing for the opening performance from the new Etoile. She considered the remaining duties that lay before the pair of them, eager to get these final few hours out of the way so she and Nagisa could have their privacy again. Shizuma looked forward to the long awaited seclusion of the summer house; perhaps, once away from the baying mob, Nagisa would finally regain her youthful cheer. Her fiancée had been such a shell of late, and Shizuma struggled to recall the last time she'd seen the fourth year's pleasant smile. Reaching the final step, the former-Etoile looked up from the patterned regal carpet that covered the aging stairs, her hand resting gently on the smoothly finished venire of the banister beside her. There were few to be found this far back from the lofty view of the balcony's front railing, and in the dim light, Shizuma couldn't see anyone waiting at all. Perhaps the unfamiliar junior had been mistaken about the intended recipient, perhaps one of the seniors were up to their old tricks and had lost their nerve at the final moment. Regardless, there was no one here. Dismissing the card, Shizuma was about to turn to the balcony edge, intending to slide in beside one of the other girls so she could watch the show below, when a jarring thud drew her attention further behind her, the sound coming from one of the terrace doors, the aging frame open and threatening to shatter it's fragile inset glass were it to remain free to rattle back and forward in the wind. Bemused and cynical, Shizuma stepped forward with a smile, half expecting Mizuho or Hitomi to jump her with an outstretched Christmas present; it wouldn't have been the first time. But instead, as she neared the swinging terrace door, she found herself greeted by someone else entirely. - - - - - 'If I lose her now, that will be it, my last chance gone.' Miyuki stared again into the floor length mirror before her, her legs refusing to move and her nerve threatening to break. She couldn't do this. She'd never once been strong enough to confess her feelings to her long standing friend, and yet here she was, telling herself she was ready to do just that. Miyuki had sat and watched as her silver haired mentor had gone from one pretty face to the next, girl after girl throughout the course of their juniors. As the pair became seniors, she'd actively introduced her to Sakuragi-san herself, only to lose both immediately after. And then, to her gut wrenching dismay following the many months she'd stood at Shizuma's side throughout her grieving period, she'd watched it happen all over again with the Aoi girl. All that time, and without a single word, never once having spoken out despite being so completely infatuated with the silver haired temptress. So how was it now that she thought she could go through with this? 'But I was good enough once; this, this was good enough once,' she repeated, casting determined eyes across the slender figure before her. And faced with a miserable future of domestic subservience alongside her parentally nominated beneficiary, the young woman once again rallied her courage, shaking the fear and apprehension that had always bested her in the past. "I can do this," she declared to the mirror, her words repeating mentally, their tone taking a resolute edge, 'I have to.' - - - - - "Chalon-sur-Saône?" Shizuma asked, her tone inquisitive, her words spoken toward the floating silhouette sheltered in the dark recess beside the bellowing doorway before her. Stood in the shadows of the sweeping terrace curtain, school council President Miyuki Rokujo watched as the former-Etoile meandered closer, her steps tentative, the Hanazono girl unsure of her former room mate's agenda or of what to expect next. Miyuki remained concealed, her eyes down cast as she watched the sixth year's feet edge nearer. Anxious, her chest rose slowly as she took one final, measured breath as she replayed her chosen words, once again fighting to retain her nerve. 'If I lose her now...' "Was that evening so forgettable Shizuma?" she asked, her tone measured and aloof as she delivered her lines. Shizuma stopped short of the carpet edge, a little aside of her secluded companion. The question was ambiguous, the subtext unclear. Reaching out her left hand, but without allowing her eyes to leave the shrouded figure to her right, the former-Etoile carefully pulled the terrace door to. "You have me at a disadvantage Miyuki," she said, straining to tug the doorframe hard enough to hear the click as it shut properly, "it was a long week that winter in Burgundy." Her slender fingers slipping free from the brass handle, she tipped her head in curiosity, her silver hair shifting about her. "Which night do you me-" She stopped, her voice trailing off as Miyuki stepped forward, Shizuma's question immediately answered by the council President's attire. "Miyuki..." she murmured. Long black hair framing uneasy eyes, the council senior slowly emerged from the safety of her shadowed recess, the tight sapphire dress she wore shimmering as it caught the light, her marble white skin smooth as it shifted beneath. She did her best to hold her head high, stepping confidently in elegant blue heels, her long legs emphasised by the dress's clever seamstress, her smooth stomach wrapped in taut sheer fabric, the plunge of her chest marked by the cut, her bare shoulders set against the satin black strands that fell across it. Shizuma could only watch as the memories unfurled, the sight before her recapturing that youthful night; the frantic rush from place to place, the alcoholic haze, the giggling fits as the youngsters did their best to avoid the drooling pack that snapped closely on their heels. And then, outside, amongst the fluffy white snow on the high stone terrace, that expectant, aching gap between them before Miyuki had rejected her kiss. Recollection dawning on her, Shizuma muttered in understanding, "The balloons..." Miyuki smiled, continuing the train of thought as she wandered out towards the balcony front, "...and the banners, the ribbons, the stage... Even down to the napkins Shizuma," and she looked back across her shoulder, the ends of her dark hair rolling midway across her bare skin, "Everything..." The edge of Shizuma's mouth curled as the most obvious point of all dawned upon her, "Your hair?" she asked, prompting Miyuki to smile in amusement. "There's not much left in the world that money can't buy Hanazono-san," she said, her dark eyes twinkling. The former-Etoile stood in silence, the memories washing over her, the calls of the young French lads still fresh in her mind. And as her eyes glazed, she muttered with a suggestive grin, "Because he thinks it looks juicy," she said in a thick French accent, turning once again to look theatrically at her behind. Miyuki brought a hand to her mouth, chuckling softly and her eyes beaming as her lips came together in a warm smile afterward. Stood lost in the moment, Shizuma eyed her former room mate before her fondly. "It's the same dress?" she asked, her curiosity peaking. Miyuki nodded, straightening her back and smoothing the hem across her thighs to emphasize the fit. She smiled again as her mind cleared, Miyuki reassured as her nerve began to settle. Shizuma shook her head, still stunned by the deja-vu. Ticking everything over in her mind, she stumbled over one final point. "But this was so long ago now Miyuki. Why would you..." The sentence didn't need completing, the sentiment blaringly clear only a heart beat later. There would only be one reason why that night had held Miyuki's attention, why the evening might command enough significance for the council President to go to these lengths to recreate it. "That kiss..." she muttered, a soft, regretful shame catching the former-Etoile. Miyuki stepped forward, her eyes intent and levelled directly at her peer. "This was good enough Shizuma, once..." - - - - - Feeling the bright spotlights against her skin, Nagisa took her final step, planting her feet at the edge of the stage, her gaze cast far into the crowd beyond. To her side and only a pace behind her, she could hear Tamao do the same, the young women holding their heads high as they took in the mass of bodies before them, the dark Hall beyond swimming with expectant eyes. Etoile, light and dark, stood before their peers, their attire resplendent, their demeanour set, and as the wash of awe and applause rose within the chamber, the two girls smiled, their audience approving, their moment of release finally upon them. Weeks of preparation and apprehensive nerves, all soon to be forgotten, a peaceful winter away from their responsibilities only moments ahead of the pair. Watching for Chiyo's queue in the shadows beneath the stage, Nagisa reached back without looking away from the crowd, her slender fingers finding Tamao's and entwining with fluid ease, the pair raising their hands between them as they slowly began to circle around each other, drawing closer with each theatrical step. And as the first note rang true from the powerful chamber PA, the girls turned, Nagisa taking Tamao's hands in her own, the Etoile dance beginning with split second timing as a lively Viennese waltz filled the chamber, the audience captivated, the entire room focused on the stage. While the girls followed the steps with the same degree of grace and refine that Astrea had long come to expect from their Etoile, Nagisa found herself searching the crowd, her brown eyes straining to catch that familiar shock of silver hair. Twirl by twirl, she scanned the assembly, finding many but not the face she was after. There was Chiyo, the little first year gazing dotingly toward her, the tiny Miatorian's eyes deep with admiration. There was Kagome and Chikaru, the Lulim junior still appearing strange without her soft brown bear, the upperclassman looking stunning in her daring Geisha outfit. And there was Amane, a thunderous looking Kenjo-san stood sulking beside her. But where was Shizuma? The Etoile twirled again, their feet crossing perfectly on the wooden stage beneath them, their heels striking sharply with each step, the flow and glide of their movements inch perfect in every aspect; a true sight to behold. 'Ah!' thought Nagisa, her eyes finally finding their quarry, 'there she is!' And after a second glance on the return pass, Nagisa found herself wondering why Shizuma looked so distressed. That, and who was the unfamiliar girl reaching to stop her on the stairs, the attractively dressed senior's face hidden by her long, flowing black hair. - - - - - "Shizuma, wait," Miyuki called, the council President hurrying as the former-Etoile started down the stairway. Pausing reluctantly, the silver haired sixth year turned back to look at her companion. "I'm going to wait for Nagisa Miyuki, I can't help you with this," she said, her eyes betraying her discomfort. Miyuki's expectance might well be justified though, a point Shizuma couldn't honestly deny given her past behaviour, but regardless of the sentiment, her timing was two years too late and the days before Kaori a distant memory in the sixth year's mind. She didn't need this now. Her fiancée would be waiting expectantly after the dance, and the former Etoile's place was there, by her side. Miyuki stood at the top of the stairs looking down, her slender figure wrapped in shimmering fabric, her soft black hair falling across her face. Shizuma has always loved her hair long, had been mortified when the third year had cut it short into that awful bob. "Miyuki, you're talking about things that happened a long, long time ago; it's not fair for you to dredge them up now," she said, uncomfortable with the knowledge that her playful actions still lead Miyuki to such distress after all this time. She'd treated her former room mate poorly over the years; the young woman's admission in Shizuma's Dormitory still stinging with the painful manner with which Shizuma had chosen to capitalize on it. The kiss had been outright cruel. "What do you want me to say?" Shizuma continued, her edge's fraying. Miyuki looked down to the woman below her, her expression calm and her tone level. "I just ask that you hear me out Shizuma," she said, and she offered a hand to the former Etoile, "after everything else, is that too much to ask?" Shizuma sighed heavily, her heart crushed by guilt and remorse. She'd brought this on herself, she knew, the years of teasing and the constant games never solely meant in innocence, yet never fully elaborated on either. Instead, she'd left her friend in limbo, the comfortable prop that Miyuki had revealed herself as having been used for during their earlier rows before Nagisa's instatement a painful reminder of how closed minded Shizuma had been. It should have been Miyuki at the Summer House, Shizuma knew, and the school council President was right in her accusations; it had been Miyuki there through the many months supporting her, she'd earned that right. And what had Shizuma done? The sixth year shook her head, sighing heavily. "Miyuki, I can't change what I've d-" The council President cut her off, her tone adamant, "Just listen Shizuma, please?" and the dark haired senior gestured with open palms, "How many times have I asked that of you? How many times has it been me?" She drew her hands back into the a ball against her chest, adding pleadingly, "Just for once, please, listen to me and how I feel." She waited, looking for a reaction. When one failed to emerge, she pushed again, "Don't I deserve that much?" she asked, tipping the point with meaningful eyes. Shizuma caved; she'd always been the one doing the talking, it was always Shizuma letting her emotions go, always Shizuma taking her turn. Never since those childhood days when the silver haired junior had come to rescue Miyuki from her spot weeping alone in the Dormitory corridor had the young woman asked for that comfort, not once since those far flung days had the council President taken her share. And yet she'd always been there, flawlessly, waiting at Shizuma's side to offer her arm. "Miyuki... I." And staring at the hand offered before her, Shizuma couldn't stop herself from accepting it. - - - - - Floating on the fresh night air, soft music stirred Yaya from her nap, the third year curled into a lonely ball atop her bed covers, her restful appearance hiding troubled dreams, the Spican sleeping lightly as her mind raced from one dark recess to the next. Raising her head slightly, her bleary eyes only half open, she muttered from her hazy cocoon, "It's begun?" - - - - - "There was a time," Miyuki began, her eyes low as she held the slender hand before her, the council President leaning forward in the huge armchair in the reserved section of the Miatorian balcony, "there was a time before Kaori, before the..." and she paused, unable to use the words, "a time when you used to look at me the way you did the other girls." Her dark eyes misted as she continued, Miyuki's heart laid bare, the council President knowing she would never get this chance again. "I used to cherish those moments Shizuma; the way you'd look at me, your teasing smiles. You made me feel so pretty, so very special..." Sat beside her in the roped off area, set a little way back from the front railing, Shizuma watched as Miyuki tried to articulate her feelings, the council President reaching deep within as she pondered those early days; pondered her lost opportunity, "I'd always wanted to please you Shizuma, from the earliest days, I'd wanted to live up to your expectations. I wanted to be strong and study hard as you'd asked," Cupping her head with her free hand, she rocked it gently, her hair falling through her fingers as she gazed off to one side. Finding the words, she continued softly, "After Kaori... those moments, they had gone. You were a shell, and I, ...I was a prop to support you, some inanimate object in the corner while you lost yourself in your grief. She sighed, the dismay and anguish still clear, "For that time Shizuma, I didn't exist. I was just another face in the crowd." The emotions building, the sixth year's face twisted in remembrance, "I so missed that smile. I would sit alone at night, imaging we were young again, that none of it had happened. I used to wrap the covers around me and imagine that you were whispering in my ear the way you used to." She blinked back brimming tears, "I missed you so much, and I was the one stood closest to you." She set her jaw and swallowed hard, sitting up straight in the chair and rising her gaze to match Shizuma's directly, her chiselled features stern and her dark eyes a mix of regret and reasoning, "That night in Chalon; I was young Shizuma, young and intimidated. You were my friend, you'd been my mentor. God, you used to rock me to sleep... I didn't know what I was doing Shizuma, I'd never kissed anyone, and you were so..." She paused, biting her lip, "I didn't..." But Shizuma was only half listening, her attention riddled by her guilt, the distress she'd caused her friend now laid bare before her, and with no easy distractions to hide it behind. Miyuki continued, "From that day, I'd always wanted it to be you," she said, her admission hushed in the gloom, "even when you took Kaori for yourself." Shizuma turned, unsure she'd heard the words correctly. "You...?" she said, bewildered amongst her own discomfort. Miyuki continued blankly, "Is it so surprising?" she asked, and her tone took a wistful edge, "She had such a pretty smile..." For a moment, neither girl spoke, the sounds of the dance below prevailing. Eventually, the evening's true purpose began to nag at Shizuma as the music increasingly caught her attentions; why was she allowing Miyuki in like this? "I..." the former-Etoile began, trying to regain her composure and end the conversation. But Miyuki cut her off, her tone curt and direct. "But it wasn't me responsible for that smile Shizuma, and I accepted that." Cold in demeanour, her chest falling with a heavy sigh, Miyuki dropped her eyes as she got to the point. "The day you returned to Astrea wearing that ring Shizuma, the day I had the girls instated as Etoile; it was then that I knew." The sixth year released the former-Etoile's hand, bringing her fingers to her lips as she sat back in the depth of armchair head rest, letting the smoothing darkness engulf her; her next words the hardest to muster, "Only you would do something like that Shizuma, only you could be so bold. Seeing you wave your ring around with so little care, I knew then that whatever happened next, that after everything else before, I could not let you go; that it still had to be you." She dropped her voice as she continued, her tone bitter and challenging, "What right has that girl to you Shizuma? Which part of our long lives together has she shared? Where was she during our grief?" Miyuki spat her contempt, "In three months time my father will give me to that man Shizuma, that man. Whatever I may hope for now, whatever plans I might have made, as soon as that day comes, everything will be swept aside. And like a good little girl, I'll be expected to settle down and continue the family name as is required," She waved a hand dismissively, "Everyone I've loved or cared for Shizuma..." and her faced twisted in pain, "that man..." She looked up, catching Shizuma's green gaze from beneath her dark hair, the sixth year suddenly leaning forward from the darkness to rest a hand on her companion's forearm, "We'll go to him together Shizuma, together as we always have been. We'll demand that he call the marriage off, demand he gives in to us or face our relationship being announced to the public." Her lips bore a twisted smile as she relished the mental images, "Imagine Shizuma, the Rokujo family heir... with another woman. Imagine their shame." Her eyes took a hopeful edge and she tipped her head, trying to catch the emerald eyes gazing aimlessly before her, "You and I, Shizuma; unwilling to bend, unwilling to go away quietly. He'd have to listen, have to permit our demands." She leaned back, watching Shizuma's face for a response, hoping to see some spark of acceptance. This was everything, all she had left. "Europe, the States. We could choose a University Shizuma, go anywhere in the world. The Rokujo family wealth, the Hanazono family influence, imagine... you and I, together, free to do as we please." She watched, hoping for something, anything from the girl opposite, "There would be no stopping us Shizuma." But as no response came, she pointed a finger toward the stage below, her face determined, her tone boiling in anger, "What will her parents do Shizuma? How will they react when they find out eh? What kind of future can that really have?" Her mind snapping from the barrage, Shizuma suddenly looked up, her heart jumping. "Nagisa..." Leaving her seat, the former-Etoile swept toward the barrier, out towards the front of the gallery as anxiety pulled her to her fiancée below. As she reached the edge, she realised with dismay that the dance was almost at an end, her offer of support lacking throughout. Nagisa would worry, would feel alone... Miyuki followed, her hand reaching for her fellow sixth year, "Shizuma..." she called, catching the other woman, the Hanazono girl turning in her spot by the railing. With no more words to follow, no more of her heart to give, Miyuki could only stand there, holding her friend's wrist, a sliding sense of failure and loss beginning to wash over her. "I was good enough once," she murmured, her gaze somewhere else and her eyes misting over. Gingerly, she drew the wrist towards her navel, pressing slender fingers against the soft fabric covering her burning skin beneath. - - - - - Nagisa had watched, in passes, as the slender girl in the blue dress had lead her fiancée back up the stairs, leading Shizuma by the hand up and out of view. Confused, with a gathering urge to hurl her dinner building within her stomach, she looked again and again for some sign of the couple, desperately trying to spot her girlfriend amongst the wall of bodies on the balcony. What was Shizuma doing? How could she behave this way, here, in front of all these people? Confused, hurt and increasingly distracted as she danced, the young girl lost her sense of surrounding, her thoughts turning inward, the rug pulled from beneath her feet. How could she? How- Her mind froze, a silver shock of hair appearing in her blurred field of vision. Looking again at the balcony, her mind racing as she tried to gain a clear view between twirls, she watched as Shizuma reappeared, now stood at the balcony railing, her back turned to the stage. Stood once again at her side was the strange girl in the blue dress; her figure elegant and shapely, her long black hair spilling across slender shoulders. And between the bars of the balcony wood work... Nagisa's heart leapt to her throat. ...she was holding Shizuma's hand, and on the next pass, she had drawn it to her stomach, pressing it again the soft fabric of her dress. Nagisa's spirit shattered within her, the young girl's mind reeling, her thoughts a jumbled mess, her brain unable to cope. Wait... ...was that...Miyuki? - - - - - The door had swung closed long before Yaya's sleepy mind had even had the chance to process it opening, the sound followed by two dull thuds as discarded trainers landed beside the bed frame. Stirring from her foetal state, still curled up on the bed, Yaya did her best to roll onto her back, her attempt at opening her eyes halted by the dazzling glare of the Dormitory light fitting above. As she moved to sit up, she felt a heavy weight land squarely on her hips, tiny hands pinning her wrists to the bed covers beneath her. "Tsu-" she began, but the words were cut short as panic washed over her, the build and attire of the figure above feeling nothing like the pink haired first year that Yaya had first thought of. Squirming beneath her captor and self-aware in nothing but her night dress, she felt uncomfortably damp and cold fabric pressing against her exposed thighs, the smell of wet hair filling her nostrils. As she forced her bleary eyes open, she took in the delicate face peering down expectantly at her, the features familiar despite the dazed blur; the matted, dirty blonde curls, the soft cheeks streaked with tear stains and the red, puffy eyes above them... ...and those brilliant blue irises. "Hikari?" Yaya exclaimed, her mind racing as her eyes snapped to focus. But the third year above remained silent, her expression apprehensive, Hikari unable to maintain eye contact and instead staring at the myriad weave of Yaya's dark hair spilled across the bed covers beneath them. Yaya did her best to sit up on her elbows, her face written with confusion as the third year atop relinquished her hold and slipped back softly into Yaya's lap. They sat silent for a moment, Yaya's heart pounding, the dark haired third year staring at the blonde before her, Hikari staring nervously at the bed instead. Then, leaning inward again, her damp curls rolling across her face in wet clumps, Hikari whispered quietly, "Please don't send me away Yaya-chan," she said, her voice small and riddled with uncertainty. Yaya tipped her head to one side, still stunned by the appearance and puzzled further by the request. But before she could reply, Hikari continued, "Yaya-chan liked me once..." she mumbled, managing an edgy glance into her room mate's dark eyes. And then, without any warning at all, Hikari leant further forward, pressing her lips against those of the stunned girl before her. Yaya's eyes spilled wide with surprise, and she watched point blank as Hikari's eyelids closed slowly, the third year's tiny brow softening as the deep lines of stress and worry melted away, her expression placid and serene, And as Yaya tasted salty tears and sweet lip gloss, her young mind swam in confusion. - - - - - As the final bar played and the dance came to a close, Nagisa hung her head, her arm limp and her fingers still entwined with Tamao's as the dark haired girl held their hands aloft. Nagisa's fellow Etoile, having sensed the change of character during the dance, turned questioning eyes toward her companion, the oblivious audience around them erupting with applause. Waiting quietly for the appreciation to pass, the pair stood beneath the spotlight, amidst the cacophonic wall of clapping and fevered calls, Nagisa dizzy and lost in the swirling room, her soul spiralling in on itself, How could she... after everything ... how ... Then, with a weird sense of disorientation, Nagisa found herself back in the studio, back before Emmie's mirror, her heart pounding as she stood staring at her reflection, stood watching her chest rise and fall, her attention trapped by the determined look in her deep brown eyes. 'If she truly believes in herself...' Emmie's words rang clear and true in her mind, and the young woman's lips curled into a vicious snarl. The spark of hatred flared within, and as Tamao stepped away, the time to leave finally having come, the dark haired Etoile paused in confusion and concern as Nagisa remained stationary where she was in the centre of the stage. Her slender hands curling into balls so tight that her fingernails drew blood, the seething fourth year stared up from beneath her long red eyelashes, her pretty face burning with anger.
Back to Strawberry Panic Anime Continuity FanFic Index - Back to Strawberry Panic Shoujo-Ai Fanfiction