crystal
Her laughter reverberates through the room to her left, glancing from something of cut crystal to reflect, playing with a glass of something red, left half-empty.
Yumiko stops on the staircase, stilled by the image of Haruno's glinting smile in the mirror, painted lips spread wide and flashing ivory teeth, with diamonds worthy of the moon dangling aimlessly. Her fingertips are poking his arm, resplendent in tailored black and white, before briefly falling away in reprieve. She moves to stand across from him, evaluating his finely crafted costume.
"You look especially dashing today," Haruno says.
"Don't try to divert my attention so obviously." His face is twisted into something slight, not quite a grimace. "Perhaps I should keep quiet for now."
She leans towards him, her cleavage, her stance leveling upon him - Yumiko knows, but doesn't understand - something in those violet eyes tells her that there's something unmentioned, yet always present between those two.
"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to," she whispers in something akin to that of a cat, then glides away, watching him in the mirror as she goes, placing her glass gently on the adjacent table.
Yumiko wanders back up the stairs again, looking back once more if only for a moment. The glass is still half-empty, awash in red.
Amongst a behemoth of tiered sugar and frosting plated in the epicentre of a polished floor, there's a jumble of suits and dresses, with the subtle click of elevated footsteps muted by lively conversation. But while he's the star of the show, she shines brighter than all.
As he leads the guests in some form of conversation, a mask born of a normative politesse weans his handsome, charming face, yet she can't help but stare vacantly at someone she thought she knew.
"Ne, Yumiko-chan?"
Diamonds, oh, how they shine.
She floats gently into the room towards her, gazing curiously, her glass filled again with a fresh olive, ever the personification of beauty and sophistication.
Her borrowed dress feels tighter around her shoulders, somehow.
She trails her finger agonizingly across the nape of her neck, to her chin, and notices something in her gaze.
"Doesn't Hayato-kun look so handsome today?"
She feels a tide of heat rushing to her face, her cheeks inflamed with shades of crimson.
"As... as if! H-he's just a f-friend!"
She tilts her chin and leans down to her ear, aflutter in something of satin and lilac.
"As if? Yumiko-chan," her voice one part sugar, yet two parts spice, "I'm not the one wandering up and down the stairs, watching him from afar." She pats her shoulder once, twice, then walks away.
Yumiko finds herself back in that room of polished crystal, but the gentle accompaniment of piano and saxophone has faded, along with the merrymakers dressed in costume. She stares at the place where a tall, blonde figure stands confidently, a smile affixed on his face, almost inviting her, and a knot unwinds itself in her stomach as she steps uneasily towards him.
But as she takes one step, two steps, three steps towards him, somehow, he moves further and further away and out of the corner of her eye, she sees - through the mirror - a glimpse of her own solitary figure.
Her feet are locked in place, his figure an increasingly distant beacon in an unfamiliar world.
She opens her eyes, with a flash of azure, and collapses on her pillow.
Looking around, the room aligned with desks and chairs in formation, the blackboard littered with vaguely decipherable teachings, she takes a sharp breath, feeling her chest inflate then deflate.
"Ah, speaking of girlfriends, that Onee-chan we just saw was so pretty. I think we saw her at the Cultural Festival or something!" Tobe yelled from a desk a few rows back.
"Yeah, I remember seeing her!" Ooka nodded, "Seriously, compared to Yamato's girlfriend, she was defin-"
The loud ring of the phone and the noise of the desk vibrating pierce through his words.
"Sorry everyone," Hayato stands, his smile present as always, "I have to go somewhere now."
Tobe turns, "Oh man, you sure? We were gonna head to karaoke in a few minutes!"
And as she turns back to face the group, she realises - as that room reappears again in her mind - that there's so much she doesn't understand.
No, as she hears the door close, she understands enough.
