One of the cruelest ironies of life, she supposed, was that the world
did not, in fact, revolve around her. And when it did, it was
painful...Ends of the World would never have any miraculous happiness
planned for her; there were no miracles. All that she tended to receive
from the messages from Ends of the World was pain. There would never be
ordained happiness for her...but if there was...oh the possibilities! A wry
smile crossed her serene face as she sat, twirling an orange curl around
her finger, back facing the rest of the student council.
"Well, that's not clean," Touga muttered with a short laugh. Miki looked at him curiously with bright blue eyes, completely innocent and devoid of guile.
Juri whirled around to see Touga's eyes staring into what had been the back of her head, as though he could see what she was thinking. She glared at him, he looked away, unable to control the natural response to the enmity that leaked through any gaze that she threw at practically everybody.
"You know, Juri, we were asking you about what you thought about the latest message from Ends of the World, and are still awaiting a response."
Juri continued to glare, her green eyes flaming more at the disruption from her pleasurable thoughts than at the fact that Touga seemed to be able to see them as well.
Miki looked at her, now, ran a hand through his short, light blue hair, then clamped the fingers of his other hand down on the button of his stopwatch. Glanced at it. Put it back into the pocket that lay in the creases of his school uniform.
As Juri seemed not to be in the mood to yield to any more distractions, Miki began cautiously. "Ah, Juri-sama?" Her gaze whipped to him, he only flinched slightly, and then gathered enough strength to venture on timidly. "Juri...have you given enough thought to what the message said? Touga and I would really like to know..."
Juri's gaze softened, slightly, as it did whenever she looked at the clean and pure face that Miki possessed. But, as usual, she struggled to cover up any softening that she seemed to outwardly be conveying.
"Yes. I have. And all that I have to say is that, Touga, you ought to lay off on forging the messages."
Touga's face flushed with embarrassment and anger. "You would lay the accusation on me that I'm impersonating the one being that may give any of us-all of us-salvation?"
Juri looked back at him slyly. "Perhaps."
Touga pushed his chair back from the table. "Outrageous!"
"Perhaps."
Miki looked back and forth between Touga and Juri worriedly. He disliked it immensely when things became out of control and precarious between the two easily incensed council members, as he never knew what was right to say in such a situation-when they were at all perturbed, saying the wrong thing was measured on a balance of life or death.
Juri's gaze flicked over Miki's troubled features; she held in a short, mirthless laugh.
"But I will say, Touga, that whether you wrote this letter or not..." she looked over at the nearly uncontrolled, red haired President and grinned in a peculiar manner that only increased his anger, "This is something that needs more consideration than what can be given it in one meeting."
"We have time," Touga said curtly.
Miki deftly clicked his stopwatch, face filled with concentration. 17:38:19. It went back into his pocket, his gaze suddenly was anxious again.
"Not enough," Juri stated placidly, leaning back in her chair. For a moment, the white rose on the table-in a delicate, intricately weaving glass vase-caught her eye. It had each petal but one, which lay on the table, alone, separated from its life force.
Touga began to speak, but Juri cut him off. "In a nutshell, this letter details who will be fighting next..." her eyes flicked up, then back. "Touga, it has yourself and Tenjou-kun down. But other than the dueling, it briefs on upcoming events..." her voice broke off unexpectedly. Hell, she hadn't even expected that...anyway, it's not like they knew what it could be connected to. Perhaps Touga did...but he wouldn't have forged any letter, and she knew it, despite her prior accusation. But it felt too strange to lay something bare like that herself by saying it, where anyone could interpret it...god forbid correctly. It would be like laying out all of her necklaces for..."her"...to pick from...and "her" picking the locket. With the picture still tucked inside.
Touga crossed his ankles, stretched out in absolute languor. He opened his eyes as Juri paused. "And the upcoming events detail upon the next champion...but not necessarily in the dueling arena, have you pondered that, perhaps, Arisagawa?"
Juri looked away, green eyes glazed over, orange curls falling in place. "No," she said flatly, voice utterly and completely hollow.
Miki looked with discomfort at the white rose on the table. At least half of its petals had fallen, spread across the table by the wind, some floating away to the school grounds below. It was such a queer knowledge to have...that he was really on top of a school. One that, for that matter, he attended. He often wondered how much of the Student Council's purpose the teachers knew...the façade that was his school did managed to upset him at times.
But then he was grounded in his reality, wide eyes flashing up to Juri's pained face. He could tell that she didn't want Touga to know her wounds, nor him, that she was still licking. He wanted to leap up and protect her, put Touga in his place, try to erase that cold detachment that Juri adopted when in pain, but knew that it wasn't possible...this hurt him. He looked away again, to the rose, as another petal fell to the table.
Touga, however, did not miss his fleeting instant of sympathy. "Kaoru. Anything to say?"
Miki swallowed, looked at Juri's fallen profile apprehensively before beginning. "You could be right. The champion that the message mentions may not have anything to do with the duels. It was a very wide statement...but I don't think that it's really in our place to judge what Ends of the World gives us. Things will come clear, as they proceed. They always do."
Unconscious of the motion, Juri's hand closed around her locket. And that, she thought, is exactly what I'm afraid of. Everything coming clear the way I fear; my secrets laid bare, as they have been before, I suppose. Everything I've fought against during my existence has been defied again and again, and now, it seems, again. Miki's voice rang in her ears, the purity of what he said burned her. Things will come clear...they always do...the champion that the message mentions may not have anything to do with the duels...Juri's hand gave her locket one last squeeze, let her arm loose, and she pushed back her chair, rose to her feet.
"Then there is nothing that we can do but see things through as the Ends of the World would have us do."
She began to walk away, deliberately, perhaps dramatically...the drama in it was that she didn't care anything about the drama or pretense, though. Until Touga's voice froze her in her spot.
"By the way, Arisagawa..." he drawled, "What happened to that lost love of yours?"
Juri didn't even look back, let alone give him the pleasure of a broken response...she resumed walking, tried to keep her steady pace until she reached the elevator, where she dropped to the floor and collapsed in torrential, burning tears that she had not indulged herself in for so long.
The last petal that had been hanging from the white rose fell, was swept away by the wind to the grounds below.
"Well, that's not clean," Touga muttered with a short laugh. Miki looked at him curiously with bright blue eyes, completely innocent and devoid of guile.
Juri whirled around to see Touga's eyes staring into what had been the back of her head, as though he could see what she was thinking. She glared at him, he looked away, unable to control the natural response to the enmity that leaked through any gaze that she threw at practically everybody.
"You know, Juri, we were asking you about what you thought about the latest message from Ends of the World, and are still awaiting a response."
Juri continued to glare, her green eyes flaming more at the disruption from her pleasurable thoughts than at the fact that Touga seemed to be able to see them as well.
Miki looked at her, now, ran a hand through his short, light blue hair, then clamped the fingers of his other hand down on the button of his stopwatch. Glanced at it. Put it back into the pocket that lay in the creases of his school uniform.
As Juri seemed not to be in the mood to yield to any more distractions, Miki began cautiously. "Ah, Juri-sama?" Her gaze whipped to him, he only flinched slightly, and then gathered enough strength to venture on timidly. "Juri...have you given enough thought to what the message said? Touga and I would really like to know..."
Juri's gaze softened, slightly, as it did whenever she looked at the clean and pure face that Miki possessed. But, as usual, she struggled to cover up any softening that she seemed to outwardly be conveying.
"Yes. I have. And all that I have to say is that, Touga, you ought to lay off on forging the messages."
Touga's face flushed with embarrassment and anger. "You would lay the accusation on me that I'm impersonating the one being that may give any of us-all of us-salvation?"
Juri looked back at him slyly. "Perhaps."
Touga pushed his chair back from the table. "Outrageous!"
"Perhaps."
Miki looked back and forth between Touga and Juri worriedly. He disliked it immensely when things became out of control and precarious between the two easily incensed council members, as he never knew what was right to say in such a situation-when they were at all perturbed, saying the wrong thing was measured on a balance of life or death.
Juri's gaze flicked over Miki's troubled features; she held in a short, mirthless laugh.
"But I will say, Touga, that whether you wrote this letter or not..." she looked over at the nearly uncontrolled, red haired President and grinned in a peculiar manner that only increased his anger, "This is something that needs more consideration than what can be given it in one meeting."
"We have time," Touga said curtly.
Miki deftly clicked his stopwatch, face filled with concentration. 17:38:19. It went back into his pocket, his gaze suddenly was anxious again.
"Not enough," Juri stated placidly, leaning back in her chair. For a moment, the white rose on the table-in a delicate, intricately weaving glass vase-caught her eye. It had each petal but one, which lay on the table, alone, separated from its life force.
Touga began to speak, but Juri cut him off. "In a nutshell, this letter details who will be fighting next..." her eyes flicked up, then back. "Touga, it has yourself and Tenjou-kun down. But other than the dueling, it briefs on upcoming events..." her voice broke off unexpectedly. Hell, she hadn't even expected that...anyway, it's not like they knew what it could be connected to. Perhaps Touga did...but he wouldn't have forged any letter, and she knew it, despite her prior accusation. But it felt too strange to lay something bare like that herself by saying it, where anyone could interpret it...god forbid correctly. It would be like laying out all of her necklaces for..."her"...to pick from...and "her" picking the locket. With the picture still tucked inside.
Touga crossed his ankles, stretched out in absolute languor. He opened his eyes as Juri paused. "And the upcoming events detail upon the next champion...but not necessarily in the dueling arena, have you pondered that, perhaps, Arisagawa?"
Juri looked away, green eyes glazed over, orange curls falling in place. "No," she said flatly, voice utterly and completely hollow.
Miki looked with discomfort at the white rose on the table. At least half of its petals had fallen, spread across the table by the wind, some floating away to the school grounds below. It was such a queer knowledge to have...that he was really on top of a school. One that, for that matter, he attended. He often wondered how much of the Student Council's purpose the teachers knew...the façade that was his school did managed to upset him at times.
But then he was grounded in his reality, wide eyes flashing up to Juri's pained face. He could tell that she didn't want Touga to know her wounds, nor him, that she was still licking. He wanted to leap up and protect her, put Touga in his place, try to erase that cold detachment that Juri adopted when in pain, but knew that it wasn't possible...this hurt him. He looked away again, to the rose, as another petal fell to the table.
Touga, however, did not miss his fleeting instant of sympathy. "Kaoru. Anything to say?"
Miki swallowed, looked at Juri's fallen profile apprehensively before beginning. "You could be right. The champion that the message mentions may not have anything to do with the duels. It was a very wide statement...but I don't think that it's really in our place to judge what Ends of the World gives us. Things will come clear, as they proceed. They always do."
Unconscious of the motion, Juri's hand closed around her locket. And that, she thought, is exactly what I'm afraid of. Everything coming clear the way I fear; my secrets laid bare, as they have been before, I suppose. Everything I've fought against during my existence has been defied again and again, and now, it seems, again. Miki's voice rang in her ears, the purity of what he said burned her. Things will come clear...they always do...the champion that the message mentions may not have anything to do with the duels...Juri's hand gave her locket one last squeeze, let her arm loose, and she pushed back her chair, rose to her feet.
"Then there is nothing that we can do but see things through as the Ends of the World would have us do."
She began to walk away, deliberately, perhaps dramatically...the drama in it was that she didn't care anything about the drama or pretense, though. Until Touga's voice froze her in her spot.
"By the way, Arisagawa..." he drawled, "What happened to that lost love of yours?"
Juri didn't even look back, let alone give him the pleasure of a broken response...she resumed walking, tried to keep her steady pace until she reached the elevator, where she dropped to the floor and collapsed in torrential, burning tears that she had not indulged herself in for so long.
The last petal that had been hanging from the white rose fell, was swept away by the wind to the grounds below.