The world became a tunnel, the lines of the hallway corridor curving in the fisheye, the grain of the old wooden beams and passing oak panels lost within the soft focus blur of Nagisa's preoccupied disconnection. The couple rushed through the sweeping passageways in slow motion, the warmth of Shizuma's hand somewhere detached and removed at the end of Nagisa's arm. She flinched as the fire doors came and went; their presence briefly announced by the cacophony of thuds and cracks, the constant muffled rumble of party music playing behind them layered underneath, its pitch and tempo distorted by her mind's current state of limbo. E-tio-le-sa-ma... came the familiar words, the greeting tugging at her awareness, the red head shifting her attention vaguely to one side as the face came and went, the world then plunging into darkness as a closing fire door swallowed the pale lamp light behind them. Floating in the pitch-black void beyond, the sound of their breath and the clip of their heels on the tiled annex floor the only acknowledgement that they were still moving, Nagisa's consciousness saturated with images of the girl in Emmie's studio mirror, of the sickening tilt to Grand Hall audience around her, or of her matt black heels set against the long boards of the wooden stage at her feet. Who was that girl on stage as she'd danced? How had she been so brave when with every second the terrified teenager underneath had wanted to curl up and die? How had Emmie's words taken that girl so far beyond herself, and where within had that power and nerve she'd tapped into come from? Where was that girl now? Nagisa reached around, something rigid and hard bumping against her hip as their path twisted and turned throughout a dimly lit kitchen. There was a clatter as something metallic hit the floor, before their journey became another straight, determined line, the rhythmic sound of passing fire doors returning once more. The attractive woman beside her said something, Shizuma's voice somehow comforting and reassuring, yet coupled with a horrid sense of wilting, some unnerving sensation that drew a troubled frown. There was a star. Somewhere off in the distance, bouncing messily with each jarring footstep they took, there was a star. It drifted slowly across her vision, cresting toward its falling horizon, the point taking shape and form until suddenly it had become the glint of some sparkling light reflected on glass. On a crystalline glass, a smooth, curving liquid that mirrored the world it was falling through. A tear. That recent, unsettling tear. Miyuki's tear. And as the bellowing cacophony of yet another fire door crashed around her, the emerging image of Miyuki's face fled from her mind, the brilliant gleaming sphere shifting into the square it should have been as it quickly revealed itself the framed wooden window of a final antique portal between the girls and their intended destination, the kick board ringing as Shizuma and Nagisa burst into the glaring light of the Grand Hall entranceway on the other side. "Grab your coat honey, came Shizuma's smooth voice, "it's raining." And with her bewildered mental cocoon drifting cleanly away, Nagisa did as she was told. - - - - - Angry skies twisted above the tiny figures trotting back across the establishment grounds, the bellowing wind battering their slender bodies as it tore throughout the school, the couple hastening their pace as they neared the Dormitory building. With the weather plummeting further toward hostile and relentless, it brought with it a fine mist of pre-rain moisture that soaked through their dresses and matted their unkempt hair. Catching the gathering tempest as the heavens readied themselves for one final, violent downpour, Shizuma knelt to unstrap her heels, Nagisa shuffling her own off awkwardly before the older Miatorian grabbed the fourth year by the hand, the pair sprinting the final hundred yards back towards the slick granite stairway. Panting for breath as they ducked beneath the front porch, the girls stepped gingerly into the dimmed foyer beyond, coming to a halt as they both bent double to catch their collective breath. Shaking her matted locks out as she straightened up her back, Shizuma felt the clingy film that her expensive designer dress had become slide slowly away from her skin, the slimy sensation chilling and unpleasant. As the sixth year pushed her tangled mop back and away from her face, she muttered in dismay, "Look at us both, we're soaked through." With a meek smile, she reached for Nagisa's hand again, intent on returning to their room on the upper floor to clean up and dry off. But for the briefest of moments, Nagisa paused, the fourth year considering the outstretched fingers before her. Something inside gripped the fourth year tightly and it took her that fleeting moment before choosing to accept them. Not at all oblivious to the Etoile's indecision, Shizuma's heart sank, the sixth year papering the cracks with another, now noticeably forced smile as she squeezed her girlfriend's hand. Gingerly she led the red head toward the hallway staircase and up the first flight of steps. But as the girls neared the landing at the top, Nagisa's paces slowly faltered, the red head soon stopping entirely, her arm pulled upwards until Shizuma could go no further. Upstairs would mean changing. And showers... Physical presence and proximity. Shizuma would want to touch her, would want to embrace, and Nagisa, Nagisa was still... Turning back, the older Miatorian looked at her companion, the red head not returning the questioning gaze, her mind once again elsewhere as she stared at the floor. Glancing briefly into the emerald eyes staring down at her, Nagisa gently shook her head and turned away, the young woman silent as she slipped from Shizuma's grasp, Nagisa retracing her steps as she returned to the foyer below before disappearing down one of the corridors that flanked the main staircase. Standing in silence as she watched in dismay, Shizuma heard a creak and clunk from one of the many ground floor side rooms, the doorway and its user obscured by the blackness that skirted the area beyond what little light was left in the late night, lamp-lit Dormitory entrance hall. - - - - - Tsubomi had bolted for Yaya's room the second she'd overheard the whispered rumours passing throughout the Grand Hall lobby, the hallway by then crammed full with other delayed attendees, most of whom had struggled to negotiate the unexpected torrents of rain. Panicked by the name being batted about around her, the first year had dashed from her place in the queue, abandoning all remaining notation of spending an unpleasant evening in her half-baked Ball attire, celebrating something she wasn't sure she wanted to happen, still lost and confused in the aftermath of her stormy interactions with the previous Etoile's troubled roommate. She'd spent the days since her last, harrowing trip to that Dormitory alone, the first year doing her best to reconstruct herself, to bite her lip and set her shoulders broad once more. But it wasn't happening, and with her trusty mask now cracked and telling, the terrified youngster beneath the strawberry shock of spunk and attitude had retreated inwardly, curling up inside, too bewildered and distraught to know where to go, to know who to reach for or now how to behave. The weeks since Hikari's instatement replayed as little more than one long, sickeningly unhinged daze, and sat as she was now, perched nervously on the edge of Yaya's Dormitory bed, she couldn't help but question events further still, to scrutinize Yaya's intentions once more. For in her left hand, the back of her palm draped idly atop the mass of sheets pushed to one side on the vacated bedroom mattress, Tsubomi unconsciously explored the texture of her governess's discarded nightdress, the fabric cold and sodden, the bed cover spattered with damp stains and muddy scuff marks dragged in from outside. With her pea green eyes shifting only a little to her right, she blankly reconsidered the dishevelled pile of Yaya's things reflected in the writing desk's vanity mirror, the previously ordered and sealed stack of boxes in the center of the room now strewn open and marked by the hasty removal of items. Then, shifting her gaze in the reverse direction, she once again pondered the telling gaps in Yaya's personal wardrobe, her drawer left open and her shoe rack a cluttered mess. And finally, knowing they would still be there no matter how hard she wished they weren't, Tsubomi's broken eyes fell back upon the immediately recognizable pile of gym clothes lying discarded by her feet, the pale slacks and hooded white top drawing her stomach into a lurching knot that threatened to snap her clean in two. Sat there in shattered silence, Tsubomi once again pored over her feelings of confusion and rejection, a quiet voice deep inside struggling to muster the words she knew now were simply a matter of stating the obvious. - - - - - Closing her eyes and parsing her lips with a growing sense of self-targeted disappointment, Shizuma dropped her shoes on the bottom step as she also descended the stairs, padding quietly across the entrance hall floorboards as she followed her fiancee down the darkened corridor. Catching a crack of light emanating from the lower tier common room, its door slightly ajar and bleeding pale white light across the age-worn passageway woodwork, the former-Etoile cursed her apprehension as she followed the fourth year within. Nagisa was standing in silhouette behind the sweeping grand piano that flanked the patio doors, her heels lying discarded on the carpet nearby, the fine lines of her cheekbone and chin the only facial details illuminated by the failing light. Tapping the ivory keys softly, the young woman's solemn tune matched her detached demeanour, prompting Shizuma to edge forward in the darkness, "Nagisa?" she ventured softly. The red head remained silent, her reply written amongst the mechanics of hammer and string, the notes becoming heavy and hard until eventually, frustration and annoyance won over. With a final dull thud she stepped backward, cracking the piano cover shut as she turned further from the anxious upperclassman waiting for her. "Where were you Shizuma, where did you go?" she demanded, her silhouette shifting against the rain washed window behind them. Shizuma stood frozen, unsure of how to explain. "Nagisa...?" The red head shot back her agitation, both girls knowing full well the clarification was unnecessary. "I saw you Shizuma, I saw you on the balcony when I was dancing with Tamao. I watched you with her, I watched her lead you away by the hand and when I saw you next, you were touching her Shizuma, you were touching her the way you touch me." The words dripped with accusation and the sixth year could do little but stand in stony silence, her breathing falling shallow, her chest wracked by a hollow pit of guilt. After everything that Miyuki had said tonight, after everything that had happened at the Grand Hall, how could she even begin this conversation? Nagisa remained the aggressor, the uncertainty pushing her on, the distrust still steadily simmering beneath her icy exterior, "Answer me Shizuma. I saw you leave the balcony, I saw you go with her. Where were you?" she demanded. Her own frustration biting, the older girl snapped without thinking, "She said she wanted to talk Nagisa. She said there were things we needed to discuss." Curling around itself in the dark, the troubled silhouette found herself for comfort, "So she speaks with her hands now?" she mumbled, her tone weighted with as much dismay as it was with bitterness and anger. Shizuma sighed at her own shortcomings, her words now soft and her hands outstretched, beckoning in response, "Nagisa..." But the shadowy figure recoiled, an air of disgust in her immediate rejection of Shizuma's characteristic gesture of reconciliation. "No Shizuma!" she exclaimed, and despite the covering shroud that hid them, Shizuma once again felt those burning amber eyes glaring back at her in the dark, "No..." she repeated. The word twisted off uncomfortably, saturating the lull that followed it, and Shizuma was left off balance, the sixth year seeking something to remove the unpleasant aftertaste, the pain underwriting Nagisa's soft voice so very evident indeed. The former-Etoile took a further pace forward, her hands trying to pluck appropriate words from the air. "There are... things Nagisa. She's just... she's scared and confused; her wedding's soon and she's trying fix things in ways she can't," she mumbled, the older girl trying her best to explain Miyuki's precarious logic. "She thinks I can help her..." "Help?" the red head questioned coldly, prompting the former-Etoile to stumble over her words, "I.." But she couldn't continue, her emerald gaze lost as her train of thought seized up, her eyes then falling back toward the floor as the telling stain of shame washed across her. How could she explain the reality of Miyuki's intentions, how could she tell Nagisa the true motivation behind the council senior's suffocating and soul destroying entrapment of the young Etoile's life? How could she admit that not once, but twice, and as recently as the morning of the Etoile election, Shizuma had planned to take Miyuki as a partner, to search for that youthful flush that had once passed between them as she tried to bury the crushing loss that Nagisa's apparent acceptance of the Etoile and a life beside Tamao Suzumi had brought her. How could she admit that having pushed Nagisa aside for fear of hurting her further, the first person she'd reached for was once again Miyuki? Was always going to be Miyuki... She fumbled blindly within her mental cage, the shutters having clamped firmly across her worldly perceptions as she tumbled about internally. How do you admit to the one you love that they're suffering because of you? How do you admit your own misadventures without making matters worse? She glanced to one side, her deep green eyes finding her reflection in the large wall mirror at the end of the lounge. In a moment of comforting detachment, it appeared the figure staring back then chose to speak the next words for her, "We have... history Nagisa," it mumbled, the venom with which the red head then replied quickly pulling the older Miatorian from her trance, "She's made that plainly obvious," the young Etoile snarled flatly, adding with flabbergasted emphasis, "Every chance she's had, every day of the week, ever since she had us appointed." Bitterness then filled the space between her breaths, and Nagisa shifted her position, the fourth year now subconsciously tracing the smooth curve of her shoulder for comfort, "Every time something happens," she continued quietly, "every time I get something wrong she makes sure I know just how much better the pair of you would have done it together, how much more she achieved with you after Sakuragi-san..." and she paused, sidestepping the awkward history, straining for the right words to personify her thorough devastation during each of Miyuki's relentless sermons. Reaching somewhere internally, she dragged the correct phrase to the surface, "...how perfect you were together," she managed finally, "how close." Tutting softly in after-thought, Nagisa caught her self-pity, irritated by how childish she suddenly sounded. Yet this wasn't her being silly she reasserted to herself, this wasn't some unfounded suspicion. What she'd seen tonight had crossed a line, and obviously by enough to rattle her when combined with that seemingly cosy chat in the Etoile Green House only a few days beforehand. She was hurt and confused, and she wasn't going to let this one go with a simple wave of dismissive acceptance to avoid the inconvenient row that would follow. She wanted answers. Shizuma swam in mental imagery, Miyuki's pressing expression and her persistent body language all too easy to conjure, the Hanazono girl recalling the countless times Miyuki had said something similar while they were in private audience, how she would go to such lengths to stress their bond and acquaintance. It all fell into place so effortlessly now, Shizuma cringing as she looked back across the recent weeks; her solitude in the Green House, Miyuki's constant and over demanding calls on Nagisa's schedule. Anything to separate them, she thought, anything to keep them apart, whilst all the while bombarding Nagisa with this tirade as she stressed the red head's unwelcome interference into some greater bond, something epic and sacred that drew its roots from a much older, more laudable union. Miyuki's words from the balcony stung painfully as the Hanazono girl recalled them, "What right has that girl to you Shizuma? Which part of our long lives together has she shared? Where was she during our grief?" The sixth year's shoulders sank in defeat, "I..." She paused, her ineffectiveness punching her squarely in the stomach. "I didn't realise," she mumbled quietly, shocked by her own short-sightedness and flawed sensitivity, "When you used to come back to the Dormitory so upset, I didn't know what she was up to. You were so sullen and sad, I just presumed you were adjusting to Etoile." She tipped her eyes downward, her soggy mane sliding across her shoulder, "I mistook it for the way you were with French class. But after tonight, well... it's no wonder really..." She looked up with an apologetic glance, "I should have asked Nagisa, it was wrong of me not to." But greeted with nothing but silence, her words faltered again, the emotional low that had shadowed her confrontation with Miyuki now dragging her into an unrecoverable lull of the like she'd not felt since the days before the Spican coronation, since those distant nights of long contemplation sat staring out across the school grounds from her uncaring bedroom window. God knows what treatment Nagisa had suffered at Miyuki's hands, the council President simultaneously manipulating the isolated Hanazono girl with her loaded smiles and proper formal etiquette. At least after seeing Emmie the red head had regained her inclination to fight the good fight, even if she wasn't her usual bubbly self to contrast it. Then something dawned on her, "I'm guessing Emmie asked though?" she inquired, her question carrying with it her resignation to total and utter failure. The room was still for a moment longer, Nagisa only replying when the silence provoked her to do so. "She's like that I guess," Nagisa sighed, her gaze downcast, the red head avoiding further eye contact and her tone still one of agitated distraction, "She's a lot like Chikaru..." she added. And for a while the girls continued without speaking, Shizuma lost introspectively, the fourth year perched on the window frame opposite her, the Aoi girl's slim figure huddled against the condensation-rich window panes as she watched the rain lash across the glass, its surface clammy and cold against her exposed lower back. With the distance between them prominent and irrevocable, the void it created becoming the eye of some intangible emotional twister, the centre filled slowly with all the words that went unsaid, the howling resentment generated by each missed turn that Shizuma took to speak sweeping throughout the lounge's darkened recesses like a pack of snarling dogs. - - - - - "On-nee-sama..." the little one mumbled, her tiny voice hardly audible over the booming music pounding from the speakers above her. Chiyo's face remained sheet white, her ocean blue eyes still glazed and wide, her black pupils staring off somewhere into the space above the stage, unmoving despite the best efforts of the pretty Lulim junior stood between her and the shifting wall of dresses now dancing where Nagisa had once stood. Having dragged Chikaru halfway across the Hall, Kagome was desperately trying to draw a spark of recognition from the astounded room temp still standing beside the PA well. Leaning toward Chiyo's shell shocked face, the mousey brunette waved her hand back and forth before the little one's eyes, trying once again to catch her fellow first year's attention. "Chiyo-chan? Nagisa-onee-sama is gone now Chiyo-chan," she explained, reaching cautiously for the room temp's hand. "We should go now Chiyo-chan," she continued, "you should sit down for a bit," she urged. Catching the Miatorian's previous mutterings, Chikaru turned back from the distractions atop the stage, the Lulim geisha struggling to remember which of the three schools the older girls leading the chorus of ‘woop woop's came from, the tall quintet dancing together with their hands in the air, their wide eyes and beaming smiles encouraging the girls around them to follow suit. Turning to aid her assistant, she knelt before the Tsukidate girl slowly, careful not to crease the hem of her kimono in the process. Gentle fingers traced the curve of Chiyo's cheek, "Kagome-chan is right sweetheart; you should come with us for a little while. I'm sure someone will look after the stereo for you," she soothed. Finally sparking with something vaguely reflecting awareness and acknowledgement, Chiyo turned her huge blue orbs toward the Lulim senior. She remained eerily zombified a second longer, before turning again to look directly into Kagome's eyes. "Kagome-chan?" she mumbled. The Lulim girl beamed, "Chiyo-chan!" Grinning happily, she reached again for Chiyo's hands, gently freeing the crumpled song sheet from the dark haired first year's sweaty grip. "You should leave this here Chiyo-chan," she said, placing the paper on the PA well table to her side, "Kagome-chan will make sure someone looks after it for you," she smiled, squeezing the other girl's fingers. Chikaru tipped her Geisha topknot to one side, glancing across the Etoile Dormitory aide one last time before nodding to Kagome that it was okay to lead her away. The first year had all the physical symptoms of a deep, sudden shock, her lips pale and her cheeks cold and clammy despite the roasting oven the Hall had fast become, Chiyo's eyes still as wide as saucers and her jaw doing little but hanging open. It was almost unnerving. Watching as her council aide drew the first year off toward the toilets, Kagome's new cardigan now draped lovingly around the Miatorian's shoulders, Chikaru found her eyes returning to the stage, her earlier concerns returning. - - - - - "I've been useless lately Nagisa," the former-Etoile offered into the darkness, the red head's failure to respond only spurring the silver-haired upperclassman to delve deeper still, "These rings we wear come with a set of promises, and I've done little toward upholding mine." She glanced at her own engagement band, the sixth year rolling the delicate metal round and around her finger. "After your instatement, after the way everything fell for Miyuki, I couldn't see a way of correcting things, I couldn't find a way out for you." She shrugged blankly, "I thought it might be easier if I just stayed out of the way. I wanted to avoid making things worse by continuing to fight with her." Shizuma's mind replayed the night Miyuki had allotted Ball duties, the ailing upperclassman recapturing the of sense of frustration and embarrassment she'd felt as she'd stood at the end of the meeting room table, the former-Etoile's silver mane falling forward as she hung her head to shelter her failing nerve from the watchful eyes around her, the calculating antagonist at the opposite end of the polished wooden slab having coolly dismissed her only seconds before. It had all played into Miyuki's hands so perfectly, so thoroughly decisive in its turn. And yet, knowing what Shizuma knew now, a few simple words might have tipped that entire situation on its head. The slightest of interjections could have made the greatest of differences to her fiancee's quality of life. "I should have stood beside you," she continued, "if I'd have been more sensitive and confronted her sooner, perhaps all of this could have been avoided. She should know by now she can't be what she thinks she can, and I'm nothing like the saviour she seems to look to me as..." But those final words were the most telling, and Nagisa's interjection verged on omniscient, her question seemingly born from nowhere as it cut through Shizuma's introspective babble. "She asked you break up with me didn't she?" Shocked by her girlfriend's blunt reply and the directness of the question, Shizuma could only form the beginning of her response, "Nagisa, I..." But the subtext was enough, and Nagisa had already drawn her hands to her face, holding them before her in exasperation as she struggled to silence the churning mass inside. With her mistrust now slotting consequence and implication together, her pretty face twisted with unseen emotion, her vision slowly blurring as gathering tears threatened to brim and break her dark lashes, her heart screaming toward endless possibilities that shattered it the instant they formed. She was going to lose her; Miyuki was taking her away, "I don't know who I am anymore Shizuma, "she suddenly blurted, "I don't know how to be me without you. I don't want to be me without you." Pained by her girlfriend's sorrow, Shizuma edged forward again, instinctively wanting to reach out and comfort the fourth year, "You won't be Nagisa..." she whispered. But the youngster was beyond reason, her cresting insecurities already overwhelming her, the questions coming faster than the tears, "Then why were you touching her Shizuma? Why were you gone so long? What's going on, what are you hiding from me? I don't understand Shizuma-sama, I don't understand at all. Why can't you just tell me the truth?" Unable to watch her loved one suffer any further, Shizuma swept forward, the former-Etoile trying to catch the sullen form as it retreated away. For a second she thought she had her, but Nagisa deftly twisted within her grasp, curling her arms under Shizuma's and turning as the sixth year closed. "No!" the red head cried again, and she fought herself free of her fiancee's embrace, raising her hands before her, glistening tears falling from her cheeks as she backed away into the area boxed between the sofas. "No..." she repeated, her voice stronger and firmer than before, her defensive blockade holding her girlfriend at bay with her brown gaze levelled and set. Sensing the young Etoile's returning anger, Shizuma held her hands up in response, waiting quietly as the fourth year struggled to regain her composure, watching as the red head's breathing gradually slowed, her chest falling back into rhythm as Nagisa forcibly severed the emotional surge. Biting back the tears, the young woman slowly recovered herself, Nagisa straightening up as she lowered her hands from their place of instinctive warding. Re-entering a state detachment and control, the seething fifteen year old returned her furious eyes toward the senior sixth year waiting before her. Startled by the sudden change of character and Nagisa's sheer determination to avoid being overcome, the former-Etoile waited a moment further before taking a cautious step toward the nearest couch, the watchful Hanazono girl perching on the edge as she lowered her own hands to her sides. Watching as her girlfriend set about seating herself, Nagisa hovered briefly until the adrenaline had subsided far enough to allow her the same option, the fourth year drawing her feet beneath herself on the sofa opposite, the young woman's gaze underwritten with shifting volatility. Remaining thoroughly mortified by the prospect of full disclosure, it took some time before Shizuma finally accepted she had little choice but to confide the truth of the evening's origin. Knowing full well the trouble that would spark, Shizuma recoiled several times from her starting phrase before eventually beginning her lengthy tale in earnest, "She and I needed to talk Nagisa. There are things from the past that we needed to discuss. What you saw tonight wasn't how it looked; Miyuki made that part of it on purpose." The red head remained unmoved when Shizuma took the chance to look, her expression flat as she waited for her girlfriend to continue. "There was a time Nagisa, a time before Kaori; a time when I pushed things with Miyuki in a way I'd never thought to before," she said, gesturing as she recounted the night in Chalon. "It was the only time I'd been serious about her, and although I'd always teased her back then, it was never meant in anything other than jest; I was like that with all the girls. Miyuki and I were strictly friends, and until that night, that was how I'd presumed things would always stay." She sighed solemnly as she relived those final moments on the terrace yet again, "It was a silly night though, and we were doing the most stupid of things..." She shrugged in exasperation, "So when I got the urge, idiotically, I opted to push... I was being impulsive, and Miyuki wasn't in any fit state to think things through properly. Looking back now, I guess I got exactly what I deserved." She considered that for a moment, something personal having dawned on her. "So when she turned me away," the sixth year continued, "I guess I wasn't surprised. I just told myself I'd gone over the top and that would be the end of it. We were staying away at the time, so when we returned here I dismissed it all as a very stupid mistake." Slipping further into reminiscence, the Hanazono girl's face fell further from grace, "I'd presumed she had too... but, well... it appears now that that night had changed things for her." Looking up from her place of contemplation, Shizuma's voice regained a sense of urgency, "I don't want you thinking something happened the same way it has between us Nagisa. It wasn't like that; it was a kiss, at most. And she rejected even that. But there was an intent, perhaps, and no matter how briefly it might have been there if it had been, I know now that that's what made this different for her." Shizuma pressed on, knowing matters would remain just as uncomfortable whichever way she approached them, this next bit in particular. Her voice fell accordingly. "Just before the election Nagisa, back when I thought I'd lost you; she came to me again then. It wasn't long after the day I gave the pendants back, the day I'd been so terribly horrible to her in my Dormitory." She dipped her eyes, unwilling to directly specify the incident in question, knowing full well that doing so would only drag the shame further toward her surface; the same shame she now realised Miyuki had so expertly manipulated on the Grand Hall staircase. "At that point, I knew for sure that she loved me. I was so busy telling myself that all I'd done was hurt you, I was convinced that if I let you back in I'd only do the same again. And in my defence, Miyuki was too." She paused, shaking her head gently in irritation, "But I was the one stupid enough to allow that to sway me; I was the one that listened, and faced with the idea of doing it to you again I pushed you away just as she'd told me I had to, wanting to believe she was right to insist I leave you to get on with a life beside Tamao as Etoile." She gained a wistful look before delivering her next lines, self-admissions uncharacteristic for the sixth year, even before someone so dear to her. "I'm weak Nagisa," she admitted, dipping her eyes as her emerald gaze traced the weave of the couch material, her slender fingers curling around her elbows as she hugged herself for comfort, "I've never coped well alone," she said, biting her bottom lip. She paused briefly before continuing in even quieter tones still, "She was so accepting and hopeful... I thought, perhaps... perhaps we could try again, perhaps with you beside Tamao, Miyuki and I might start over. We were both so close to graduation, we'd be leaving soon anyway and she's the only person to have stood by me in the past. She was the only person that knew what came with that." Not needing to see Nagisa's face to know her strained justification had failed to impact, Shizuma sighed again, the strength returning to her voice as the frustration resurfaced. "I was being stupid Nagisa," she said, her face betraying her sense of exasperation as she met her girlfriend's burning brown eyes, "I was doing the first thing Mother ever taught me to do, the one thing I'd learned from her better than anything else; to push those that mean the most away for fear of hurting them, for fear of hurting myself with the guilt that comes with that..." She paused as her mind sparked with recollection, the image of their old town house in the Momoyama district drawing into the distance the first time the Hanazono limo had carried her to Astrea. Lost in the past, it wasn't until a very different memory conjured the smell of crisp winter air and the cold bark of Kaori's tree that she shook the sullen look. Smiling wistfully, Shizuma relived the chase as she'd bolted back through the snow toward the Chapel and the Spican election ceremony. Still half glazed, Shizuma retook her girlfriend's eyes as she continued softly, "But when the election came, I knew... I just knew I couldn't give you up; I couldn't let you go. I hated her for the seeds she'd sown, but at the same time it didn't matter to me, the bond that you and I have is something so much stronger Nagisa, as strong as the feelings Mother told me had driven her to reuniting with Emmie. I couldn't lose you Nagisa, I couldn't face a life of regret wishing I'd reached for you while you'd still accept me." Her shoulders drew taut as the sixth year gathered a deep, contemplative sigh, the Hanazono girl closing her eyes and rolling her head back briefly before finally relaxing her chest and letting the memories go. Straightening up, her expression levelled, Shizuma's tone regained a matter of fact edge, "When she came to me tonight, she wanted me to know that she'd misread her own reaction that night when we were away, that she'd confused her own feelings and that she wanted our relationship to grow. She asked me to leave you, to let you alone with Tamao again and go away with her after graduation." Shizuma cringed as she added the next admission, "As childish as she's been since the election, I have treated her badly Nagisa. I've been so selfish and cold in the past, it made it all so easy for her tonight. I felt so guilty; I knew how you'd react if you saw us together, if you were to spot us when I was supposed to be there supporting you, but I couldn't pull myself away. She had me trapped." Gathering momentum, the former-Etoile pushed herself closer toward her teetering emotional pivot, "She's scared Nagisa; she graduates soon and the man her parents have arranged for her to marry... well, it's just... it's just not right. But she has a responsibility Nagisa, and a duty, and she has to fulfil it. I promised her long ago that I'd be there for her, I promised to take care of her the way she did me." "I do owe her that much," she added, those final words marked with stressed importance. "But now, because of my actions in the past, and because of my behaviour around you," and the sixth year held her left hand out so her engagement ring could catch the light, "she's got it into her head that those two things can combine, that by being with me it might somehow solve her problems with her marriage." At that Nagisa's otherwise unblinking gaze finally shifted, and Shizuma clarified the point. "She thinks she has the answer, she thinks I can give her a way out." The red head glanced away, her delicate lips parsed with an unspoken resentment. Sensing Nagisa's mind slip elsewhere, Shizuma leaned forward, her words deliberate as she strained to make her feelings clear. "But it wouldn't Nagisa, it couldn't. No matter how hard I might lie to myself if I were with her, things wouldn't be the same Nagisa..." And in earnest the sixth year offered, "She's not you." The red head turned back, the free strands of her damp auburn top knot brushing her bare neck as she shifted in her seat. Nagisa hugged her knees closer against her. Shizuma pushed on, her momentum building once more, "She's just scared Nagisa, I should have been there for her; I should have balanced it all properly. She's right of course," and the upperclassman gestured yet again, "it should have been her there that first night I went back to the Summer House. It should have been her there supporting me. And if it had been, I wouldn't have had to put you through that awful experience over Kaori and none of this mess with the Etoile election and Tamao would ever have happened." Pained by her mistakes, the Hanazono girl's face began to twist, "But it did, and it's caused everyone involved nothing but pain and misery." Slowly losing ground to the rising torment inside, the former-Etoile dipped her eyes one final time, her words spoken to the carpet as her shoulders slumped in defeat, "I've been so terribly useless at all this Nagisa, so horribly selfish... I came to you pretending I had all the answers when really I was the one in need of them." And with a final, concluding line, the broken senior let the reins slip, "I've failed the pair of you." Nagisa's mood had soured progressively throughout the story, her antipathy only building further and further. Yet compassion collided messily now with the grating sense of intrusion that Shizuma's fond regard for Miyuki had generated, and after everything that had preceded it, it was the ending statement that finally provoked a response from the youngster, "But she-" Catching the tone and a hint of rebuttal, Shizuma raised her head in response, Nagisa taken aback when those sparkling emerald irises reappeared, the gleaming jade rings now tinged with the deep contrasting reds of tearful eyes. Watching as dark tracks of mascara traced the length of her fiancee's face, Nagisa was forced into silence, the sixth year's pain staying the volley that Shizuma's story had slowly generated within her, the escalating distrust that Nagisa had found herself needing to air. Instead, rather than let it go, all Nagisa could do was stare uncomfortably into her girlfriend's crumbling face, feeling the agony in her eyes, watching the sorrow wash across her. Cracked and numb, Shizuma's next words remained authoritative nonetheless, "She's always been there Nagisa, long before I met you, long before I met Kaori..." Her emerald eyes blinked back fresh tears, the guilt re-welling with an unforgiving persistence, "I've done this all wrong Nagisa. Every time it's the same, every time it's at someone else's expense..." When her final words eventually passed her lips, they were lost between gentle sobs. "I do nothing but hurt people." And with little left to say and the young Etoile rendered mute by her conflicting emotions, Shizuma was left to quietly cry.
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