Whoa, how long has it been since I've actually wrote something for SP? (Or anything Fanfiction related, honestly.) Feels like forever and a day, honestly. But, here I am! I'm planning on bringing in a major story to the archive in the near future. But for now, I figured I'd pump out this here one-shot that I thought of at freakin' two in the morning. So yeah. I hope you guys enjoy it!

DISCLAIMER: Even after all these years, I still don't own Strawberry Panic! in any way shape or form. If I did, someone would've thrown a punch. Just sayin'.

"...so then she suddenly starts yelling at me! And before I could even get another word in she throws all sorts of stuff my way just to get me out of the room! She's so... irrational, I swear!"

Seven minutes. According to her watch, it had been exactly seven minutes since Mizushima had suddenly bolted into her room and began venting about yet another altercation between her and her roommate. Practically everyone in Miator was privy to their infamous arguments. They only occurred about once or twice a year. But when they did happen, they would go on for a few days. Sometimes they'd even last a week, much to the chagrin of everyone in the dorm. Though she took pride in being sympathetic towards whatever issues her friends may have, Tamao was far from an exception.

If the poet recalled correctly, their latest clash had something to do with cookies. Even someone as understanding as she is couldn't quite grasp what was so serious about an argument that involved something as meager as that. Truthfully, she thought it was incredibly silly. And she would much rather focus on her poetry. But she decided to hear her friend out and expected her to elaborate. And oh, did she elaborate. For seven minutes and counting. According to her, it began normally. The archer went back to her room after practice and, as always, Chihaya was already there. So she greeted her best friend and practically leaped towards her bed with the intent to do nothing but relax after such a grueling day of practice. Archery could be so demanding sometimes, she often said.

That's when things went south.

A crack snapped them out of their reveries. To Mizushima, it felt like she merely stepped on something insignificant. Thus, she didn't pay it any mind and almost immediately redirected her focus on sleep. But to Chihaya, it apparently sounded like someone had just broken a thousand glass cups. Noticing her roommate's rigid posture and stunned expression, she checked to see just what that noise was. And that's when she realized it. In hastily heading to her bed, she failed to notice the bags of cookies Chihaya placed on it. As a result, they all shattered under her weight. They were for the students who helped out in the Drama Festival. And to see her hard work crumbling (literally) sent her into a fit of anger.

"I told her she could just make more," Mizushima huffed, "but she just kept going, 'Get out! Get out! Get out!' It's so frustrating!"

I can think of something just as frustrating. "Well..." Tamao sighed, reluctantly tearing her eyes from the empty paper on her desk to face her neighbor. As much as she would like to send her off and get back to her writing, she knew disregarding her issue wasn't such a great idea. And her compassion towards her friends wouldn't allow her to do such a thing. "Maybe you should give Chihaya-chan some space for a while. The Drama Festival just passed and some of us are still a little on edge. I'm sure she'll let it blow over. Just give her some time, okay? Maybe blow off some steam yourself, too. You seem like you need it."

Judging from the look on her face, it seemed like Mizushima was getting ready to retort. But she said nothing. Instead, she shot the ground a narrow gaze before looking up at the ceiling with an expression that said "damn it, she's right." But she figured that's what made her such a great person to vent to. So she accepted that fact without complaining.

"You're probably right..." Now it was her turn to sigh. As she rose from Tamao's bed, she began contemplating what to do for the remainder of the day. Going back to her room was out of the question. "A walk around the dorm might clear my head a bit. Thanks, Tamao-chan. You've been a huge help." And with a smile and a bow, Mizushima was on her merry way.

Tamao nodded with a smile of her own, but quickly stood up and called out to her retreating friend. "Oh! Remember to apologize to her!"

Her only response was to flash a thumbs up without looking back.

When the door closed and she could no longer hear her Mizushima's footsteps, Tamao's smile grew. Finally, some peace and quiet. Just what she needs to finally start working. Since the Drama Festival ended only a few days ago, club life was beginning to return to normal. This meant, of course, that she would have to present a piece of her work to the literature club sometime this week. And with the end of the week swiftly approaching, she figured now would be a great time to begin working on a new poem.

Unfortunately, she was having a bit of trouble. Not only with inspiration, but with maintaining focus on her writing. It seems like whenever she had even the smallest idea of what to write, some outside force would immediately pull her away from it. Mizushima unfortunately wasn't the first to interrupt her today. Chiyo had come to clean about an hour ago. Before that, Miyuki came to congratulate the poet on her well-written script. Carmen was a smashing success. And although praise was given to the actors who put on such an amazing show, the president made sure to have Tamao's efforts recognized as well. She appreciated it, of course. And she always loved having the first year around. Even Mizushima's presence was welcome. However, her concentration had been compromised thrice.

Slender fingers began drumming against the still blank sheet of paper. Each impatient tap against the page was made in conjunction with her ticking watch. What to write, write to write... It wasn't the first time she's struggled with a poem before. Being a writer meant having to deal with many problems. A lack of inspiration being the most prominent one. But for God's sake, she hasn't written anything down in two hours! Today was not kind to her at all.

Groaning, Tamao redirected her gaze towards the window and took in the sight of the outside world. Maybe that would provide her with some kind of muse.

It was a normal autumn day from the looks of it. The wind blew from the east, rustling both the branches and the leaves they housed. Though the sky was beginning to look darker with each passing day. That could only mean one thing. It wouldn't be long before winter arrived. And soon, nature would pluck those beautiful fall leaves from the trees and leave them on the snow covered ground to wither and die. Such a tragedy.

...Wait, that's it!

A sudden jolt of inspiration struck the poet and she quickly turned her attention back to the wordless page. The tip of her pen was eagerly pressed against it before she moved it along with a fervor. She could feel her smile widening more and more with each stroke of her pen. And in a matter of minutes, she pulled away, wiped a few droplets of sweat from her forehead, and looked at her completed work.

Leaves of green fly away,

Farewell to you, clouds of the sky...

I fly as well, lost as the day...

Farewell to you, moon of the night.

...One minute and ten recites of her poem were enough to wipe that smile right off her face. What was once a prideful expression turned had now become one of shame and disgust.

I... wrote this? Ah, it's way too depressing! And it makes absolutely no sense...!

Tamao ultimately crumpled and discarded the paper before moving onto another one. The last thing anyone needed to hear after a stressful period for the school was something as upsetting as that. With nothing else to write, she placed her face in her hands and let out a long, agonized groan.

"Oh well," she shrugged, "I guess it's back to the—"

"Tamao-chan!"

She didn't even have to turn to know who that voice belonged to. But out of common courtesy, she turned to meet the perturbed gaze of Yaya who had barged in with Hikari in tow. The raven haired Spican plopped herself down on the poet's bed right where Mizushima sat moments ago. The blonde remained standing, bowing apologetically for Yaya's sudden intrusion.

I should have locked the door... "What's wrong, Yaya-chan?" No greetings or formalities were necessary. She knew something was bothering her.

"Um..." Hikari chimed in before Yaya could speak. "It's nothing important, really. Yaya-chan just got into another fight with Tsubomi-chan during practice, and..."

Tsubomi. Of course. Like Chihaya and Mizushima before them, Yaya and Tsubomi's arguments were well-known throughout Spica as well as within their circle of friends, Tamao included. Unlike Chihaya and Mizushima, whose fights would rarely occur, Yaya and Tsubomi seemed to go at it like wild animals every minute of every day. If it wasn't one thing, it was another. And if she the former duo's arguments were petty, then the latter's were downright pointless.

But ignoring Yaya's "plight" wouldn't be right. (As much as she really wanted to do it. She had a poem to write, after all.) Her compassionate nature wouldn't allow her to simply tell the girl to suck it up and go back to her room. So she placed her pen back on her desk and puffed her cheeks out a bit. This was going to take a while.

"Okay. Tell me what happened."

"Okay, so..." And Yaya proceeded to tell the poet all about her day at practice while laying sprawled out on her bed. From what Tamao understood, it was a stressful time. Their instructor seemed to have—to put it in Yaya's uncharacteristically coarse language—a stick up her ass the entire day. Saying things like, "You had enough time away from choir during the school festival, but not anymore! Get ready to hit the ground running!" As a result, the Saintly Chorus was subjected to what a majority of them referred to as vocal torture. They worked tirelessly, repeating the same song over and over again. When Tamao interrupted her and asked how many times they had to sing it, Yaya said that she lost count after thirty.

"...so I said maybe she should stop being so hard on us. The Drama Festival wasn't exactly a walk on cloud nine. I mean, I don't know about anyone else," she glanced over at Hikari for a moment, "but if they could, I bet my vocal cords would've committed seppuku at that point! And you know what she did next? She told me to sing the whole song in a soprano as punishment. In a soprano, Tamao-chan!"

"I-It wasn't the whole song," Hikari hesitantly interjected, "I think it was just the solo?"

"Did you see how long that solo was? It was practically the entire song!" She groaned loudly. "Oh, but Tsubomi was all, 'maybe if you applied yourself more, you wouldn't be complaining about practice! Next time you should think before you mouth off to our instructor!'" Yaya spoke with a high pitched voice that was quickly annoying the other two girls in the room. She called it her 'bratty first year' voice. Though she only really used it when imitating Tsubomi.

Tamao, though skeptical about the condition of her voice, leaned back on her chair and folded her hands as she spoke. "But you have been skipping practice lately, Yaya-chan. I'm not saying you should deal with it," but she would very much like to say that, "but maybe you should use this time to get some more rest. That way you can get through practice a lot easier."

"Easier said than done." Yaya countered. "I probably would've forgotten all about it if Tsubomi hadn't opened her mouth. I swear, if she says one more thing today, I'll—"

"You'll what, Yaya-senpai?"

Yaya shut her eyes, mouthed an "oh no," and reluctantly turned to lock eyes with the irate pink haired first year. Her hands were at her hips and she bore an expression that was liable to give most students nightmares. Yaya, however, wasn't intimidated in the slightest. Only annoyed. When did she even get in here?

"Hello, Tsubomi-chan." Both Tamao and Hikari bowed in unison. Maybe they had the same idea—showing courtesy to try and quell the first year's irritation.

But unfortunately, they couldn't stop the inevitable.

"What are you doing here, anyway?" Yaya narrowed her eyes.

With a professional air about her, Tsubomi pulled two identical packets containing sheet music from within her sweater and presents them to both Yaya and Hikari. Though her expression softened upon handing one to the blonde, it instantly reverts to its previous state the moment she faces Yaya.

"You left before you could take this." She callously tossed it in her direction. "Honestly, what if I wasn't here to give them to you? You wouldn't know what we're supposed to be singing tomorrow if you keep leaving beforehand. Show some discipline, Yaya-senpai."

Yaya's rolled her eyes as she sat up. Hikari, on the other hand, still clung to the dim hope of keeping things calm. "Ah... Thank you, Tsubomi-chan! I shouldn't have forgotten this. I'll be more careful next time."

"N-No, that's fine... You have it now, don't you?" Her mood did a complete 180. For a moment, both Tamao and Hikari expected things to actually end smoothly.

Yaya scoffed, "You sure you didn't just come to see Hikari?"

And just like that, the dream was dead.

"What are you talking about!?" Oh, now she was mad.

"Just admit it. You wouldn't be here if it was just me who forgot."

Tsubomi tapped her foot. "Of course I would have! If you mess up, it makes the rest of us look bad. And I don't want everyone else to suffer just because you don't know how to put in effort!"

"And there she goes." Yaya threw herself back onto Tamao's bed, lazily staring up at the ceiling. "Don't you have better things to do than complain to me? Or should I start calling you mom?"

"All I'm saying is that you should start applying yourself!"

"You should start applying yourself!" Yaya's mocking tone returned.

"Wha— Yaya-senpai!"

"Yaya-senpai!"

"Quit it!"

"Quit it!"

Hikari (foolishly) attempted to break up the bickering girls, still thinking there was some way to stop them. But Tamao knew it was a lost cause at that point. Once they started, they would go back and forth for what may as well be an eternity. So as opposed to Hikari, who still tried to get in between them, Tamao turned back to her desk with a small sigh. She would have resumed focusing on her poem, but the background noise would undoubtedly hinder her. Maybe if they decide to take it outside...

Something did manage to stop their argument, though. As soon as the door swung ajar, both Yaya and Tsubomi quieted down to see who suddenly barged in. Tamao had a slight impulse to hurl herself at their feet and thank them for putting a swift end to their squabbling. Unfortunately, what she was met with was something just as bad.

"Oh, you're the angry one now?"

"You ruined my bow!"

"You had it coming!"

"I apologized!"

"You did no such thing!"

Chihaya and Mizushima both came into the room, bickering just as loudly as Yaya and Tsubomi had done mere moments ago. Rather than stopping to (inevitably) vent their frustrations to Tamao, the two continued to shout at each other without any regard for anyone else in the room. Including Tamao.

Eventually, she cleared her throat loudly enough for them to stop.

I really should have locked the door... "Hey, hey... Chihaya-chan, Mizushima-chan. What exactly... happened?" Somewhere deep down, she wanted to kick herself for asking.

Especially after they began "explaining" their situation to her. Only instead of speaking coherently, they spent the next few minutes trying to talk over each other. Even Yaya and Tsubomi were somewhat shocked at the sight. Only two loud claps from Tamao quieted the duo down again. Reluctantly, the poet beckoned Mizushima and nodded her head, giving her the okay to give an explanation.

"I did what you said and gave her some space for a while, right? And when I went back, I asked if she was still mad. So she snapped my bow!" She practically fumed at the memory.

Chihaya coughed, "Why don't you tell them the entire story?"

Glaring daggers at her roommate, Mizushima huffed and continued on. "So... I went back in, ready to make up with her. So I told her—"

"'Oh hey, Chihaya-chan,'" Chihaya spoke in a deep voice. "'Sucks about your cookies. But hey-you can make more of them, right?'"

"I don't sound like that!"

"But that's what you said."

"Anyway," she glared, "So I said she could just make more of them. They're just cookies. So then she looks at me for a minute before taking my bow out under my bed and snapping it in two! Oh, and get this. You wanna know what she said afterwards? 'You can just get another one. They've got plenty in the archery club!'" It was her turn to imitate Chihaya. Only her voice was high, much like the voice Yaya spoke in before. "I mean, what kind of—"

"Great story, Mizushima-chan." Yaya interrupted with folded arms. "But in case you didn't see, we were kinda in the middle of something."

"I was in here before you." The archer pouted. "Tamao-chan, tell her!"

"But I was still talking to her." Yaya stood up, pointing at her before shooting a glance at the stressed poet. "Right, Tamao-chan?"

"Tamao-chan!" Chihaya cut in. "You're reasonable. I'm right, aren't I?"

Tsubomi strode forward, "Tamao-san! Tell Yaya how childish she's being!"

"Tamao-chan!"

"Tamao-chan!"

"Tamao-san!"

"Tamao-chan!"

Just when she thought it couldn't get any worse, the four of them started yelling over each other in an attempt to get her to agree with them. What started as two individual arguments eventually evolved into one big verbal smackdown between all four parties. The term "inside voices" was beaten and left to die somewhere at this point. Even Hikari, who once tried calming her friends down, laid flat on the other bed with a defeated pout, having finally given up on getting through to them. Tamao herself tried to listen to all four of them at once, but the cacophony of their incessant clamoring was beginning to take its toll on her. They were just so loud! And she swore she heard her name at least twenty times before she lost count.

And much like Don Jose at the end of Carmen, she couldn't take it anymore.

"Enough!"

Her sudden outburst caused all of them to stop immediately. Even Hikari sat up, shocked. Tamao's cheeks were puffed out and her face was beginning to turn red. Slowly, she made her way to the door. She was met with no resistance; all four girls made way for her after looking at her visibly annoyed face.

With her patience at an all time low, Tamao pointed towards the door. "Out."

Who would be crazy enough to further irritate her when she already looked so aggravated? One look in her eyes could put the fear of God in anybody, they thought.

But, Yaya mused, maybe she'd calm down if we all stopped yelling... Yeah. "Um... Hey... Tamao-cha—"

"Get. Out!" She raised her voice even higher that time, not caring if even the Sister heard her.

Taking the hint, they took their leave of Tamao's room. Panic stricken faces were aplenty. Hikari was the last to leave, bowing apologetically to her before slowly inching away from the door. Ever the persistent one, Yaya attempted to get another word in. But Tamao picked that moment to slam the door shut, cutting her off from the distraction they posed. Out of sight, out of mind.

After that mishap, she retreated back to her desk. The blank page stared into her very soul as she sat down. You can't think of anything, it said mockingly. You can't write, it taunted. She lifted it off the desk with both hands, glaring daggers at it as if it actually did speak to her.

"Reduced to threatening a piece of paper..." She sighed. "I've lost it, haven't I?"

All she wanted was peace and quiet. Instead, she's been met with distraction after distraction. The intrusions, the loud and endless complaints her friends had today — even her watch's ticking was starting to get on her nerves. If she could only concentrate and figure out what to write.

Her mind began wandering again. Her thoughts took her back to the pleasant outdoor scenery she took in earlier today. How she envied the trees that stood proudly even as the sky grew weary. How she idolized the autumn leaves that clung to their branches despite the winds threatening to tear them asunder. They defied nature's oppressive influence and stood tall. To her, it was the perfect display of resilience and tranquility. For the tree and its leaves refused to give in no matter how hard they were pushed. A truly peaceful sight.

"Still at peace, even though..." She pondered for a moment, tapping her finger to her lips with shut eyes. Then she grinned, pumping her fist with a passionate look in her eye. "That's it!"

Finally, after hours of struggling, she finally had an idea of what to write. Now all she needed was to actually write it and—

Her pen. Where was her pen!?

"No!" She cried, balling her hands into tight fists and getting out of her seat in frustration. It's a good thing she did that, however. Otherwise she would have failed to notice her pen on the ground right beside her bed. She let out a relieved sigh, releasing all that pent up stress within her as she retrieved her pen from the floor. She had everything — her pen, her paper, solitude, peace, quiet, and inspiration. Nothing, absolutely nothing, could break her concentration now. Gotta concentrate. Gotta concentrate...!

...But then the door was once again flung open. And in came Nagisa, vibrantly skipping her way inside their room with a childlike grin and an assortment of sweets in her grasp.

"Tamao-chan!" Her roommate beamed, throwing her arms around her mere seconds after making sure the food was placed carefully on her bed. "I thought you'd be pretty stressed writing all day, so I brought us something to eat!"

She froze. Whatever muse she had eluded her the instant Nagisa came through the door. She could try all she wanted, but it was gone. Far far away.

So Tamao buried her face in her hands, and screamed as loudly as possible.