The clubroom was quiet. Ange and Dorothy were reviewing their written reports for Control. Chise, frowning heavily, was scribbling words into a ring-bound notebook. Apparently, she was attempting to compose haiku in English. Princess was watching the other four with a relaxed expression, sipping a cup of tea.

Beatrice frowned. She was staring at a copy of The Observer. Or more precisely, at the crossword puzzle. She licked the tip of her pencil, then tapped her chin with the eraser.

"Is there a word you need help with, Beato?" The Princess asked.

Beatrice sighed.

"Yeah."

The others looked up at her. She shifted uncomfortably.

"I need a seven letter word for 'Breathtaking.' The fifth letter is 'I'."

"Lesbian," Ange deadpanned.

Princess and Beatrice both turned bright red.

Dorothy gaped at Ange for a moment, before a huge silly grin crossed her face.

"You would say that," she finally said, laughing.

"I believe that they are looking for the word 'Amazing,' " Princess stated in a calm and dignified voice.

"Potayto potahto," Ange replied with a shrug, and a very thin smirk.

Chise blinked in confusion, glancing at the reactions of the others.

"What is 'lesbian'?"

Princess, Beatrice, and Dorothy glanced awkwardly at her.

"In the Mediterranean sea," Ange began in a monotone, "there is an island called Lesbos. Once many many years ago there was a woman of great beauty that lived upon the island, named Sappho. She gathered together the daughters of kings and despots, tyrants and prophets, and she taught them poetry. As she was so beautiful, and so adored by her followers, Lesbian became a byword."

Dorothy stared at Ange with amazement.

"Wow," she finally said. "You managed to lie by telling the truth. I'm impressed."

Chise's confusion grew.

"I still do not understand."

Beatrice sighed, and stood up. She walked over to a bookshelf, running her fingers along the spines. The others watched her with varying levels of curiosity. Finally, her hand stopped, and she pulled a book down.

She walked over and set it in front of Chise.

"Umm. There. It's in English, but translated from Greek."

Chise looked at the book

"The poems of Sappho, and Commentary."

Beatrice's blush deepened.

"Ange," Princess chided playfully, "What have I told you about shelving your personal books in the clubroom's bookcases?"

Ange, with a neutral expression, glanced at her.

"I believe that you were the last to read that particular volume."

Princess shrugged with a grin, not denying it.

"If you have any ... well, questions, feel free to ask."

Dorothy glanced at Beatrice with a raised eyebrow.

"You suddenly the expert on lesbians?"

Beatrice looked at Dorothy wide-eyed.

"I .. I mean with the poems! It's really not that easy to read, even if it is translated."

Dorothy smirked.

"Ahh. Right."

Chise shook her head, and opened the book. The frontispiece showed a colored engraving of a seated topless woman, robes pooling in her lap, holding a U-shaped, stringed musical instrument. She was staring fondly at a group of younger, naked women who lounged and kneeled at her feet. They gazed worshipfully up at her.

"Sappho and her disciples upon the isle of Lesbos," the caption read.

"Ah," Chise said, her eyes widening. "I think I understand."

She turned to Beatrice with a serious expression.

"I shall read every poem, and all of the commentary. Should I have any further questions about lesbians, I shall be sure to come to you, Beato."

Beatrice turned several more shades of red.

"Ahh. Yeah. Okay, Chise. I'll be ... happy to help?"


That evening, Beatrice was startled awake by the door to her room opening suddenly. She sat up, blinking, and saw Chise enter. The book of poetry was in her hands, and her eyes were wide.

"Chise?"

The Japanese girl entered the room, and closed the door. She walked over to her bed, and placed the book on her nightstand. She then sat on the side of Beatrice's bed.

Beatrice looked at her curiously.

"I have read every poem and all of the commentary."

"Already?!"

"Yes. It has made me realize something."

"Oh? What is that?" Beatrice asked uncertainly.

"I am lesbian!"

Beatrice blinked, and her cheeks started to turn red.

"Ah. You ... you decided that just from reading Sappho?"

"Yes! The soaring lyric beauty of the poetry, the insightful analysis of the commentary, and the truly inspiring engravings decorating the volume, have all made me understand this about myself."

"Ah," Beatrice managed.

Chise's eyes were wide, and took on a fiery intensity. She clenched her hand into a fist.

"I worship at the feet of Sappho. I long to join the centuries-long traditions of my sisters, and relish in the orgiastic joys of womanly flesh!"

Beatrice's face turned another shade of red.

"Haah?"

"However, one question remains unanswered. One thing that the poems, in their fragmentary and censored state neglect. One thing that the commentary alludes to in maddeningly vague phrases without ever answering."

Beatrice shifted uncomfortably.

"And ... what's that?"

She turned to Beatrice with a confused expression.

"How does a woman have sex with another?"

Beatrice's face turned a shade of red she didn't know existed.

"Miss Chise," she spluttered, "I do not think that is an entirely appropriate question to ask a girl in her nightclothes while sitting on her bed!"

"But you are lesbian, are you not?"

"Ahhhh ... haaaaahhh?"

Chise frowned.

"You have not been with a woman?"

Beatrice made a motion that may have been a shrug.

"But you are in love with a woman."

"I," Beatrice stuttered. She blinked. For a moment, she considered fleeing the room.

"I am."

Beatrice blinked. Why am I talking?

"In love."

Seriously, stop talking!

"With."

No names, at least, Beatrice begged herself.

"A woman."

Pfew.

Chise nodded, her expression becoming serious again.

"As I thought. However, you must tell me: Is it Ange, or is it Princess?"

"Uhhh ..."

Flight again seemed like a reasonable option.

"Surely it must be one of the two," Chise mused. "Both are clearly lesbian, and both cause you to become fluttery, and distracted. I want to know who. I should not wish my pursuit to interfere with your own."

Beatrice made a very quiet strangled sound.

Chise mused for a moment, then suddenly her eyes went wide, and she leaned toward Beatrice with a gasp, causing her to squeak and jolt backward.

"You love them both!"

"Hahhh?"

Chise sat back up, frowning, and clenching her fists.

"Then it is a competition. I shall endeavor to win both to me, and you shall do the same. We shall see who first wins their love!"

"Ummm.…"

"It is the springtime of our youth! We must grasp this opportunity with both hands, and eyes wide open. Good luck to you, my lesbian rival!"

"Uhhhhhh ..."

"Oh. Fear not, Beato. I shall not be so greedy as to take them both. Mark my words: before this term is out, one of us shall have Ange, and the other shall have the Princess!"

Beatrice opened her mouth, and closed it. Several times. She hadn't any idea what to say, and wasn't sure anything she did say would change matters.

Chise stood, walked calmly over to her bed, and settled in under her covers, her back to Beatrice.

The younger girl sat in bed in the suddenly quiet darkness, staring wide-eyed at Chise as she fell asleep.

Beatrice took in a very, very deep breath. She breathed out in a quiet, shuddery sigh. The blush returned to her face, and she shifted uncomfortably in bed.

Lesbian ... rival?

Beatrice lay back in bed, her eyes still locked on Chise. Not able to close her eyes, or look away. She swallowed.

Quietly, to herself, she whispered: "I guess Ange was right all along."