Strawberry Panic Anime Continuity FanFic (part 16 of 23)

a Strawberry Panic fanfiction by ninemil

Back to Part 15
The applause died away with a murmured ripple, the audience falling silent as it became 
obvious something was wrong, the crowd watching in confusion as the red headed Etoile 
remained stationary atop the stage, her heels planted and her hands curled into tight fists, 
the knuckles white with rage.

Nagisa held her gaze where it was, staring intently at the silver shock of hair above her, 
the Hanazono girl only turning when the background commotion melted away, her mind pulled 
from the distractions of the school council President holding her wrist beside her.

Shizuma's heart jumped, a feeling of panic and dread washing over her as she caught the 
seething look on her fiancee's face, the girl below awash with accusation and distrust.

She snatched her hand free, Miyuki unable to protest, the dark haired sixth year frozen by 
her own mounting dismay as she watched her final chance for recompense slide from her grasp.

But as Shizuma gingerly brought her hand back to her side, she knew deep down inside it was 
too late, knew all too well how the situation would be misconstrued. Miyuki had woven her 
web just as she'd wanted to, and the former-Etoile had blundered into it blinded by guilt 
and regret.

Standing like a statue, acutely aware of the hundreds of girls glancing between the former 
Etoile and her newly appointed replacement, Shizuma searched her mind for a response, willed 
herself to do something, anything to fix the unfolding situation.

But as she looked down from the balcony above, staring woefully into the eyes of the fourth 
year below, she knew there would be nothing, could be nothing to explain this away.

And as the seconds ticked by, the void between the girls saturated and uncomfortable, Nagisa 
held her ground, her blood pounding in her temples, her nostrils flaring as she breathed.

- - - - -

Chiyo gazed in bewilderment, staring at the stage beside her, totally flummoxed by her 
onee-sama's actions and panicking that she, herself, had forgotten to do something 
incredibly important, something critical to the evening's continuation.

Was she supposed to dim the lights now? Or perhaps release the balloons? Why wasn't someone 
telling her what to do, and why was that useless Suzumi girl speaking in tongues as she 
reached for Etoile-onee-sama from the stage edge?

Frozen to the spot and glancing nervously around her enclosure, the tiny first year's deep 
blue eyes scanned frantically across her neatly arranged collection of notes, the petrified 
junior searching desperately for a missed cue or some vague hint of what to do next. But 
rather than direction, she instead found herself staring blankly at the page, the paragraphs 
blurring into thick black blocks, the words written in some odd form of gobbledegook.

This was all too much, her little noodle overwhelmed in her tense state, the room temp 
unable to cope with everything all at once.

What was going on?

And then, just as she was thinking things could get no worse, Chiyo jumped in wide eyed 
horror, turning in trepidation toward the sleek stereo unit behind her. Feeling the already 
subsiding floor of her stomach plummet further toward disaster, the distraught underclassman 
clutched at her temples as unfamiliar and unscheduled music drifted slowly through the Hall.

- - - - -

'Do something' the Hanazono girl screamed inwardly, 'do something before this all goes wrong 
and you lose her too...'

But she couldn't, her brain wouldn't work, her head still muddied and slow, frozen by the 
burning anger in her fiancee's unexpected gaze. Below her, Nagisa also seemed unable to 
move; unable or unwilling, perhaps content to reveal her lover for the fool she was before 
the entire school assembly.

This was all going wrong. No...

It had all gone wrong.

And lost as she was within her unbalanced inner-self, it wasn't until the lyrics of a 
familiar sounding song snagged at her attention that Shizuma finally managed to pull her 
thoughts together, the heavily accented words triggering fresh memories from the night 
before; of an unexpected visitor to her Dormitory doorway, and the now immediately relevant 
stack of compact discs the little one had carried with her as she bravely requested an 
audience with her missing onee-sama.

- - - - -

Seconds earlier and a low, synthesized hum was reverberating throughout the chamber, the 
growling note rattling the bass cones of the school PA to life, its sudden abruptness 
startling the girls within.

As the noise died away, a lazy mediterranean beat filled the Hall, its tempo ponderous and 
sultry, the subtext dripping with moody atmosphere. Four bars in found it accompanied by 
soft latin singing, a smooth male vocal drifting from the nothingness, the haunting 
introduction floating on the air as a slow, strolling piano piece layered across the top.

It was next that Shizuma had snapped-to, her attention caught by the delicate voice of a 
young french woman, her accent thick and her words spoken almost staccato rather than sung. 
She filled the gap as the latin trailed away, her tone deliberate and her words instilling a 
promise of seclusion and sanctuary, wrapped beneath the waiting covers of her cosy bed.

As the former-Etoile sparked with recognition, so too did the previously unwavering Nagisa, 
the fourth year suddenly glossing over, her intent stare losing focus as her mind was pulled 
somewhere else entirely.

She knew this song, but not only did she know this song, she also knew that it shouldn't be 
playing; the title hadn't featured on the long handwritten play list she'd been forced to 
complete the night before in Shizuma's Dormitory, after all, why would it? This was her 
fiancee's music, not one of Miyuki's nominated CDs.

Remaining in her place of contemplative absence a little while longer, Nagisa shifted 
slightly as her inner turmoil slid away, the inescapable noise quietly silenced by a hazy 
image of her slender girlfriend, the ghostly silhouette in her head humming the very same 
song to herself as she stood half naked before a floor-length bedroom mirror, the 
upperclassman slowly brushing her hair out before getting dressed for the day.

Lost in her own preoccupations and dancing dreamily as she worked, the sixth year's long 
silver strands cascaded out across her bare shoulders and down around her gently swaying 
waist, their tips brushing the hem of her delicate designer underwear before spiralling idly 
into the path of the escaping morning sunlight, the wide bright beam igniting them in a 
dazzling white glare as it ploughed through the cracks between the lazily drawn bedroom 
curtains.

After a moment's confused disorientation, the world around her now a distant and somehow 
disconnected blur, Nagisa finally placed the memory. This was the morning after their second 
trip to the Summer House, the time the Spican girls had accompanied them there. Shizuma had 
played this track the night before on the sitting room stereo, not long after Amane had 
disappeared off looking for Hikari. It had only been after the Spican fifth year had 
withdrawn that Shizuma had truly pressed her intentions, the heady combination of too much 
champagne, the provocative soundtrack playing poignantly in the background and the elicit 
Hanazono tease having consumed Nagisa in a cosy warmth that dragged the memory into a dark, 
smothering void of sexual release and sleepy embraces that then ended the evening not long 
after.

Music, it seemed, would always accompany Nagisa's life with the former-Etoile, such was its 
importance to the Hanazono woman and degree to which it was etched into her life.

And standing as Shizuma was in that pleasant memory, the sixth year quietly humming to 
herself as she tamed her silver mane, completely oblivious of the bleary red head watching 
her from amongst the mass of crumpled linen on the bed behind, Shizuma had appeared so 
perfectly content, so joyously happy.

Yet despite there being so many memories like this, so many special moments during the 
girls' brief but breathtakingly paced time together, there was still scope, somehow, for the 
nightmare unfurling before her tonight to occur. Had she imagined her relationship with 
Shizuma? Had she dreamt up the former-Etoile's feelings for her? Surely it was all too real 
to be some exaggerated figment of an over active imagination? Surely it was more than just 
wishful thinking? Their love was tangible, the ring on her finger real and the bond between 
them so amazingly unique; certainly this wasn't something to be brushed aside by the hands 
of an outsider or Shizuma's once characteristic waywardness.

She glanced back up toward the dark haired figure stood beside her fiancee, the woman's 
presence so offending, her altered appearance and her sudden proximity to Shizuma so 
terribly unsettling that she appeared as little more than a dark cloud across Nagisa's mind.

How dare she interfere! How dare she try to take something so special away! This wasn't 
right; this wasn't fair after everything these recent months.

Somewhere in the background the unannounced vocalist added emphasis, her words gaining 
urgency as her song began to build, the rising tempo and gathering memories spurring Nagisa 
on. Frantically her eyes danced between the stoic figures above her, Nagisa's thoughts now 
sprinting at full tilt, her finger nails biting deeply into her palms as fresh adrenaline 
over tightened her now re-clenched fists.

She couldn't let this happen; couldn't allow Miyuki to take her loved one away.

And with a sudden spark of abandon the red head knew exactly what to do next, exactly how to 
calm the churning tempest within. The fourth year dipped her chin and set her jaw, her 
delicate lips parsed in determination, her smouldering brown eyes once again transfixed on 
the silver haired girl above as they disappeared amongst the flush of her dark mascara.

That woman was hers; their life together, their dreams and their plans, were hers, and the 
school council President had absolutely no right to interfere. The intrusive and spiteful 
woman would see, here and now, exactly who Shizuma Hanazono belonged to.

Swallowing her nerves and silencing her soaring apprehension, Nagisa stepped boldly forward 
on the stage.

- - - - -

Chiyo searched frantically through the long, hand-written play list, doing her best to 
identify the song playing in the background, the singer unfamiliar and her lyrics in some 
garbled tongue. She scanned the lines of text page by page, the effort seemingly fruitless, 
the long table of neatly penned artists and titles giving her no clues at all.

This wasn't what the girls had practiced, this wasn't the plan at all. Had she missed a 
track or started the CD in the wrong place? There was supposed to be a ten minute pause 
here, not this strange and uncomfortable ballad she was sure she'd never heard before.

Anxiety gnawed at her again until suddenly, her little heart threatening to burst forth from 
her pounding chest, the tiny Miatorian realised to her horror that the words were in french. 
The official track list wasn't supposed to feature foreign music during the night, only 
native Japanese.

Someone must have switched the CDs!

- - - - -

The sharp snap of Nagisa's heels rang clearly on the woodwork, the metallic clip echoing 
high above the rumbling bass line emanating from the vast speaker array surrounding her.

Atop the Balcony, Shizuma's bewildered green gaze spilled wide, panic rising once again 
within, her heart racing as she watched Nagisa approach her.

What was she doing? What reaction would follow? The sixth year feared the worst, feared her 
volatile fiancee might launch her engagement ring from the stage below, running off 
screaming as she fled the evening's horrid confrontation, the youngster buckling under the 
pain of her perceived betrayal in a vivid mental image the former-Etoile found all too easy 
to conjure.

But as the fourth year neared the edge of the wooden platform, Shizuma caught something else 
in those deep brown eyes, something other than the seething anger and jarring hurt from 
before.

Nagisa's demeanour had shifted, her expression no longer one of blanket hostility, her brow 
now free from those initial lines of rage. Instead, the pretty girl's skin was marble 
smooth, her face a compelling mix of placid serenity and that intent, burning stare that 
boiled out from behind her long, dark eyelashes.

Shizuma remained statuesque, stunned to silence by the evening's fluidity, unsure of her 
girlfriend's sudden change of character. It was a different person on that stage tonight, 
the self-defeating dismay and weary resignation from recent weeks banished by this 
unexpected resolve, this sudden surge of spirit.

And as the auburn Etoile drifted closer still, Shizuma found herself acutely aware of the 
upperclassman's figure, Nagisa's motions somehow staged, her movement carried with an 
exaggerated theatrical air.

Her manner stony and firm, her resolution unflinchingly set, Nagisa cleared the remaining 
platform before coming to a halt at the end of the hardwood boards. With one final step the 
red head's slender arms arced gracefully through the air, Nagisa's hands coming to rest with 
her wrists crossed poignantly above her fiery crown.

The Hall waited in silence, the smouldering ballad still filling the chamber, Nagisa's heart 
pounding as she counted the beats until her next cue to move. Now a mere stone's throw away 
and staring up challengingly toward the balcony above, she paused for what seemed like an 
age, the young woman holding her pose perfectly, the crowd enthralled and Shizuma's mind 
racing fearfully in the interim.

But as Nagisa changed her footing and shifted her slight weight, the sixth year's emerald 
eyes were drawn inescapably toward the shimmering hemline of her girlfriend's crimson dress, 
the fabric riding daringly across the young girl's thighs, the fourth year winding down on 
her long, smooth legs, her hands spiralling down and around her curving waist in deliberate, 
sensual lines.

The Hanazono woman's expression fell blank, Shizuma now utterly bewildered, the red head's 
actions unexpected and surreal against the back drop of anger and distrust.

And as the dazed Miatorian looked on, Nagisa began to dance.

- - - - -

Kaname leant forward from her place beneath the Balcony, her back protesting as she pushed 
away from the aging pillar that had propped her up. Standing in the opposite wing of the 
Hall to Shizuma, she and Amane had a clear view of the drama unfurling on stage, watching 
quietly as the subtext raced between the red headed figure below and her shell shocked 
fiancee above, the events so much easier to read given their better understanding of the 
background behind this showdown, a privilege that the other girls in the audience obviously 
lacked.

Kaname's lips curled into a twisted smile as she caught the intent air in Nagisa's eyes, the 
determination written clearly within them. She'd seen this before, knew that look well and 
the promise it carried having witnessed it so many times previously in the Dormitory she'd 
shared with Momomi. With a sly grin, she leant forward into Amane's waiting shoulder, 
whispering in the fascinated show jumper's ear,

"My god, what is she going to do? Fuck her on stage?"

- - - - -

The minutes yawned wide as the music sauntered on in the background, the second hand on the 
huge wall clock slowing to a timeless crawl as Nagisa drew the watching eyes upon her, 
capturing their owners and binding them within a web of suggestion and entrapment.

Round and round she went, each step carefully measured, each roll of her hips enticing and 
emphasised, the sweeping curves traced by her fingertips leading the onlookers gaze out 
across the swimming expanse of the surrounding chamber before flicking back toward her 
shifting figure, over and across her exposed, snaking navel and slowly, gradually, up to 
those burning brown eyes above.

Round and round, her satin red dress pluming with each twirl, the side parting gaping wide 
to glimpse her smooth thighs and long bare legs. And as the moments drew on, the stifling 
tension in the Hall rising and the shuffling of uncomfortable feet becoming more and more 
common, the watching audience became increasingly unsure of what to think, of where they 
should be looking.

But despite the unsettled glances and anxious whispers beyond, never once did the young 
Etoile's gaze leave her fiancee, never once was Shizuma unaware of those constant, piercing 
brown eyes and the relentless, compelling stare behind them.

Here was Nagisa, once again the gypsy temptress Carmen as she danced for her lover's 
attentions, the besieged teenager staking her claim without the need for words or Miyuki's 
complex ploys.

Instead, her expression said it all, her intentions obvious and open, the young Etoile 
screamingly sincere without a single justifying phrase. Ignoring her surroundings and 
shrugging off the potential consequences her actions might carry, she bravely tapped the 
couple's unspoken bond, their intimidate and long-forged connection in a desperate attempt 
at banishing the unwelcome intruder now encroaching on their private emotional space.

And as the gathering track began to gain pace, the moody beat and compelling lyrics building 
bar by bar, the smouldering lolita atop the stage felt a warm haze grow within as she 
watched the look of confusion on Shizuma's face begin to soften, the sixth year's 
panic-stricken expression slowly melting as it was replaced by something else, something 
much more welcome and reassuringly akin to that first furtive glance she'd received in the 
lakeside grounds the day Nagisa had stumbled into Astrea.

'It'll come with time...' the former-Etoile had purred on separate a occasion, the predatory 
senior prowling intently behind her girlfriend that first evening after the Spican 
coronation, the fourth year before her pulling frantically at her stifling uniform in the 
seclusion of her darkened Dormitory, desperate for the release that shedding would promise 
but still too inexperienced and intimidated to go about taking it herself. Free from those 
earlier inhibitions however and wrapped now with fresh confidence as she danced before the 
assembly, Nagisa watched as Shizuma's back began to stiffen, watched her emerald irises yawn 
wide, the former-Etoile increasingly self-aware, the playgirl on the balcony reduced to 
little more than a puppet on Nagisa's strings.

- - - - -

Trapped where she stood, at first by the shock and overwhelming shame that came with her 
fiancee's rage, and then by the bewitching gaze and memorizing actions that followed it, 
Shizuma reeled as images raced through her mind, images of the girls together, images of 
that same failing restraint now so apparent in the red head's expression below.

They were together in her Dormitory, twisting over each other in the dark, their legs 
entwined and their hair matted and damp with sweat. Then again at the Summer House, 
stretched across the sofa, sweet champagne running the length of Nagisa's chest as the 
playful sixth year leant in to rescue it. In the shower, one hand framing the other's face, 
staring eye to eye as the moment took them both, Nagisa's gaze pleading as release hit 
her...

Image by image, memory by memory.

Shizuma's skin crawled, the hair on the back of her neck standing on end as a shiver ran the 
length of her spine, her breath coming short and her nostrils flaring gently as her chest 
rose and fell. The sixth year felt her cheeks flush red as a warm glow washed across her 
face, her fingers curling tighter around the balcony railing, the young woman lost in 
sensation, the crowd around her melting away.

- - - - -

Round and round the red head went, her provocative attire matched tenfold by her gaze, those 
burning brown eyes never leaving her lover, never once looking away until, as the track 
reached its peak and the slender girl wound so low she had to bring her hand forward to 
steady herself, the sensuous upperclassman completed her final plunge, the small of her back 
sinking so low that the lacy camisole beneath her shimmering crimson dress brushed the tip 
of her heels.

And as she stared up hungrily at the flustered senior above, Nagisa finally, achingly 
allowed her thick, heavy eyelashes to draw closed.

- - - - -

Shizuma watched with a mirrored rush as those dark brown orbs disappeared from view, the 
fourth year's bewitching spell complete and the Hanazono girl left reeling from its effect.

Her lips cracked apart, a soft, warm breath escaping her mouth, and there, before the entire 
Dormitory assembly, Shizuma felt her eyes roll, uncaring as the beckoning darkness took her.

- - - - -

Miyuki watched with a horrid sense of detachment as the two girls completed their private, 
wordless discourse. And as the song came to a close, the unsettled crowd exploding into 
nervous applause, the council President could only stand and watch, the girl before her a 
world away, the Hanazono woman untouchable and distant, her mind lost in the young woman 
below.

- - - - -

The crowd surged forth, swamping the stage as a pounding european dance track hammered from 
the speakers, filling the room with energy as the girls in the audience raced forward to 
claim their place beneath the waiting spotlights; some were enthused, some perturbed, but 
all found themselves suddenly very eager to lose the uncomfortable atmosphere and enjoy 
their final chance to revel in the end of term celebrations.

Disappearing amongst the wave of bodies, Shizuma could only glimpse those smouldering brown 
eyes briefly when they reopened, a wall of colourful dresses consuming her fiancee as the 
stage below erupted with party goers.

Her first breath deep and slow, the former-Etoile struggled to regain her composure, her 
cheeks burning and her hand sweaty as she relaxed her grip on the smooth brass railing. She 
stayed where she was for a moment, peering in astonishment at the moisture on her palm, the 
world around her returning with a cacophonic noise.

But as the audible sea crashing around her subsided and the sixth year's perception finally 
righted itself, Shizuma eventually, inevitably, found herself acutely aware of the young 
woman stood staring at her a few paces away on the Balcony overhang.

Turning with distant eyes, the former-Etoile regarded the dark haired senior standing beside 
her with a rapidly souring expression.

"Miyuki..." she said, the word lingering on her tongue.

A yawning moment passed, the already apprehensive council President made infinitely worse by 
the unashamedly raw display she'd just witnessed and been sidelined by, Miyuki unable to 
move her feet, her blue heels seemingly cemented where they were as she waited quietly for 
the nearby upperclassman to continue.

But instead the Hanazono woman remained silent, Shizuma eying the anxious figure in 
frustrated consideration.

Would she ever change, the former-Etoile asked herself, the silver-haired senior thinking 
back to that lonely little girl in the corridor, the sixth year before her now moulded and 
grown, but still withdrawn, still hiding emotionally.

All of this; the party, the balloons, the decor, her dress and that gorgeous, long onyx 
hair... all of it because Miyuki couldn't open her mouth and just speak her mind honestly. 
There had to be an angle, had to be some retarded mechanism to hide the self-doubt.

And as the upperclassman caught a shock of crimson and black moving through the crowd below, 
Shizuma once again pictured the red headed Etoile atop the stage, the expressive fourth year 
looking up at her with those poignant brown eyes as she'd danced.

Tonight had been no different to the day at the fountain, the day they'd traded their rings. 
Nagisa hadn't hesitated at all, hadn't stopped once to consider the consequences. She'd 
acted on impulse, snatching the opportunity as it dangled before her, sweeping aside 
sensibility so her heart could rule her head.

Compared to the council President, the difference was fathomless, and although life beside 
the red head might not prove to be easy, easy certainly wasn't what the silver haired 
upperclassman was looking for; experience had taught her long ago that little worth doing 
could ever be described as being so.

This had to stop, Shizuma realised abruptly, this nonsense with Miyuki having gone on long 
enough, its resolution well overdue and everyone around them suffering as a result.

Whether it was done cruelly or kindly, and kindly would require time that the fearsome red 
head climbing the stairs would be less than likely to permit this evening, Miyuki needed to 
understand that things between herself and the former-Etoile could never be the fairytale 
daydream she'd described just prior to the dance.

Miyuki was no Nagisa, and Shizuma wasn't about to become a clothes prop filed away politely 
in some obscure foreign country to avoid offending the locals; Japan was her home and it 
would damn well accept what she was or learn to keep it's nose out. She would talk to Miyuki 
properly when the opportunity allowed, but in the mean time, there was no way the 
former-Etoile could tolerate any further risk to her relationship with the red head, no way 
she would jeopardize this amazing bond any further.

With her determination set, the intimidating senior swept toward her former room mate with a 
sudden spark of life, her emerald gaze now sharp and focused and her words laced with an icy 
cynicism,

"No, you're right Miyuki," she agreed obscurely, "completely right,"

And as she drew closer, she continued with an exaggerated sincerity,

"There would be nothing we couldn't have, nothing we couldn't obtain."

But with the words still hanging in the air as the former-Etoile came to a halt beside her 
nervous companion, Shizuma then twisted the sentiment, her scrutinizing gaze flicking 
briefly across the dark haired woman in front of her,

"However, there's one thing that girl has that you don't Miyuki, something your family's 
money just can't buy you," and she tipped her silver crown to one side, her lip curling 
slightly,

"Conviction Miyuki, honest, open conviction."

She gestured in a vague manner, her finger pointing off somewhere in the direction of the 
stage below as she stabbed her justification,

"In six months that girl said the one thing you couldn't in ten years Miyuki. In six months! 
When she put that ring on my finger, she wasn't prompted, she wasn't forced. It was her idea 
and she did it of her own accord..."

The Hanazono girl then leered vindictively as she leaned in toward the council senior's 
waiting ear,

"...but you?"

She leant back, Shizuma pacing a hostile arc around and behind the frozen figure, her tone 
cold and her words frank as Miyuki's worried eyes followed the drifting emerald gown moving 
to her side,

"How long did you spend practicing this in the mirror Miyuki? How many times did you 
rehearse those lines before coming here tonight?"

Waiting for the words to sink in, the former-Etoile then gathered her final rebuttal, both 
girls catching the ominous clip of steel-tipped heels on the stairwell below, the sound 
causing the council President's brown eyes to widen in something akin to fear, the 
premonition of a horrid and callous rejection now consuming her nerve, her long dark hair 
falling across her face as she turned away.

Shizuma stepped forward again, Miyuki almost stumbling as she was forced back toward the 
balcony by the upperclassman's sudden advance,

"You see my dear Rokujo-sama, no matter how much money you spend, no matter how hard you 
might try to be something you're not, you will always be," and Shizuma's words were 
exaggerated, each syllable falling in time with her deliberate paces toward the pensive 
figure before her,

"...shy,"

Step,

"...awkward,"

Step,

"...little,"

Step,

"...Miyuki."

And as the sixth year finished, her face now inches from the council President's turned 
cheek and Miyuki's back pressed against the cold brass railing behind her, Shizuma's 
startling emerald eyes burned a hole through the dark haired senior's skull.

"I won't tolerate this anymore Miyuki, I won't let you come between us. Even if Nagisa and I 
were to part, what makes you think we'd get together afterwards? I won't carry you Miyuki; I 
can't be with someone that needs me to do this for them."

She paused, waiting for the senior's expression to change, waiting for some hint of 
acceptance or acknowledgement. But when none arrived, and with Miyuki still avoiding the 
scrutinizing gaze levelled upon her, Shizuma stepped away, the former-Etoile raising a 
questioning palm between them as she did,

"Whatever extra it is you for feel me Miyuki, whatever my past behaviour has led you to 
expect or believe...? I'm sorry, but it simply can't happen. You've been my closest, dearest 
friend, for years the one person I've been able to rely on. But whatever you tell yourself, 
you're not one of us Miyuki; you'd never be comfortable with what we'd be or what you'd have 
to become for us to be together, and there's no way I'd make you happy if I had to lie to 
myself about who I was with."

The statement was greeted with continued silence, the lack of response roaring in the vacuum 
between them, the churning chaos and thunderous uproar from the Hall below somehow muted and 
distant, paled by the gravity of this long awaited moment of closure.

Struggling to maintain her sense of purpose, Shizuma sighed in frustration, the 
former-Etoile dropping her hand, dissolving her aggressive air as a building sense of guilt 
and regret forced her to continue in calmer, more conciliatory tones,

"As much as you might like them to, things won't change if we were together Miyuki; being 
with me won't be any different to being with him if we have to spend the rest of our lives 
lying to each other. I can't magically fix things for you by pretending we're something more 
than we can be."

Shizuma paused, the spotlights dancing in her eyes,

"I never intended to mislead you..."

It was at that remark that Miyuki finally raised her gaze, the aching rejection in her eyes 
transparent and clear, her nerve completely broken. With her once marbled features now 
clammy and flushed, the council President stared blindly through a veil of gathering tears, 
Shizuma's heart sinking completely and her momentum utterly crushed, just as it had been 
earlier in the evening.

She'd never wanted this, never imagined her actions could hurt so many and so much.

Swallowing the gathering lump in her throat and desperately seeking an escape from the 
shattered figure before her, Shizuma closed the conversation with one final, regretful 
phrase,

"Perhaps when you're able to talk about this properly Miyuki, perhaps then you'll come find 
me again? Those things that happened between us; they're something we should have talked 
about a long time ago..."

And with that she turned away, the troubled senior doing her best to blank the crumbling 
look on Miyuki's face as the dejected senior bowed her head to once again shelter amongst 
the dark shroud of her shining black hair.

Trying to shake the image as she turned back to face the staircase, Shizuma left the council 
President to her own devices, the upperclassman clawing her nerve together as she focused on 
Nagisa, watching quietly as the red head appeared from amongst the throng of students 
gathered on the curving staircase.

But as the young Etoile crossed the landing, her eyes flicked tellingly between the two 
sixth years standing by the railing, the young Etoile stopping just short of embracing her 
fiancee, Nagisa's heavy chest rising with laboured breaths as she held the silver-haired 
girl's forearms, her gaze cast to one side and her face still thunderous and unreadable.

Hovering in the corner of Nagisa's peripheral vision, Miyuki could only watch the couple 
before her, Shizuma's outburst and the red head's presence having silenced her completely.

For a short while longer the trio hung in limbo, Nagisa's aura incriminating, the red head 
perhaps waiting for some form of response, perhaps struggling with something internally. 
Eventually however, she finally allowed herself to sink into Shizuma's arms, her eyes still 
diverted, her breathing slowing gradually.

Shizuma dipped her lips to her lover's crown, the gesture tender and apologetic, her emerald 
eyes drawing closed with the relief that came from Nagisa's renewed acceptance. Off to one 
side, a single, glistening tear rolled free from the council President's dark mascara, the 
droplet catching the light on its silent trip toward the carpet.

Seeing the falling star before it buried itself in the ancient pile beneath them, Nagisa 
looked up, her tone now pressing and urgent,

"Take me somewhere Shizuma, take me somewhere now," she said, her eyes uneasy and demanding.

And as the troubled couple disappeared through a nearby fire exit and out toward the 
Strawberry Dorms beyond, Miyuki could only stare at the floor, her hand reaching blindly for 
the smooth balcony railing beside her, the council President slipping heavily into one of 
the terraced seats as the apprehensive figure of Tamao Suzumi appeared on the stairwell 
landing behind.

- - - - -

"Oh Miyuki," Chikaru whispered, watching as her fellow council President disappeared from 
view, recognition having gripped the Lulim senior fully while Miyuki's altered appearance 
was being so extensively highlighted by events on stage.

It hadn't taken long for the Lulim girl to then piece together the evening's significance, 
the pondering Geisha soon remembering that distant night from her second year trip abroad 
when the dishevelled Rokujo girl had returned to their room alone, Shizuma's absence both 
marked and curious given Miyuki's crumbling demeanour.

She'd never asked the cause, never delved into the night's events, knowing only that the 
bubbly girls that had left the shared dormitory had not returned as such, and that the 
following morning when the satin-clad Etoile-to-be had finally reappeared, something 
fundamental had changed between the two friends, the shifted emotional landscape leaving the 
atmosphere telling and awkward.

And that had been that, until now.

Chikaru turned, intending to climb the winding stairwell and sate her growing curiosity and 
concern, sure that while the older girl might not fully appreciate the intrusion, she would 
certainly require the shoulder. But as she tried to move, she was surprised to find herself 
dragged in the opposite direction entirely, pulled by Kagome's tight grip on her arm.

Twisting to explain her desire to the tiny junior, she instead found herself being shuffled 
toward the stage, the first year following her own instinctive concerns, heading hurriedly 
through the haphazard crowd toward the confounded form of the Etoile's dormitory aide, Chiyo 
Tsukidate's bewildered face a wash of pale skin and dumbfounded eyes.

"We should check on Chiyo-chan," the little brunette mumbled quietly, her voice set with 
purpose as she pulled her mentor toward the PA well, "Kagome-chan is worried that she will 
blame herself because things didn't happen the way they should have tonight."

Chikaru raised an eyebrow, surprised the little one had also picked up on events so clearly. 
She chuckled to herself fondly as the youngster led her away, glancing back across her 
shoulder one more time, her gaze passing briefly across the area where the two Miatorian 
sixth years had stood.

"Just like dear Miyuki. Doesn't she look amazing Chikaru? She'll be the talk of the Ball!"

Shizuma's comment from Chalon replayed clearly in President's mind, the Lulim girl's thick 
white mask betraying her train of thought as she mulled it over.

And to think she'd considered the Winter Ball something of an anti-climax after the winter 
term's unrest... Astrea never ceased to amaze her!

But as the more disciplined half of her personality filed the thought for later, she had to 
agree that while the night's events were most intriguing and Miyuki would certainly need the 
support, it would be Chiyo that was much more likely to accept it, and given she was the 
younger of the pair, she should be their initial priority.

And as the girls made their way awkwardly through the sea of bodies bouncing about the dance 
floor, the Lulim President noted with an edging concern the degree of utter abandon written 
across the younger faces surrounding her.

Onwards to Part 17


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