[Content Note/Trigger Warning: Though Japan does not appear to have quite the same history of bigotry against homosexuality as the U.S., there does still seem to be a stigma against it, and there's a strong pressure to enter into lifelong heterosexual relationships, regardless of sexual orientation (That's how I've interpreted things; please correct me if I'm wrong). So when Fem!Battler contemplates the possibility that she could like girls, she does so with some discomfort.]

This is a story that I have written for Femslash Friday at AO3 (To be posted there on Friday). It features a genderbent Battler. If that doesn't float your boat, I'm just putting it out here now. Also, I made a point of not going over the part in EP7 that I'm "adapting" here, so I wouldn't give you guys a carbon copy of that scene. I hope you like it.

I own nothing.

It had been a wonderful day indeed when Battler discovered that Shannon read mystery novels too, and that she wanted to talk about them. Herself, Battler had never really found someone else who liked mystery novels the way she did and wanted to discuss them with her. The other girls at school were all reading romance or fantasy novels, and the boys, the ones who did read mysteries, didn't really want to talk with her about them. In fact, Battler had gotten in trouble at school when she punched a boy who'd told her that girls' brains weren't cut out for mysteries. (And for the record, she didn't care how much detention she got for punching out a loser.)

The tale was much the same in her own family. None of the adults had time; they were too bushy having what they called serious discussions, but what to Battler looked more than a little like the fights on the playground she remembered (and had often gotten into) from elementary school. Jessica didn't read mystery novels (though some of the manga she kept hidden in her closet was pretty nice), and Maria couldn't even read at all yet. George was too much older than her; all he read were high school textbooks, and said he didn't have time for pleasure reading.

But Shannon, Shannon was just about Battler's age. She wasn't an adult who didn't have time, she wasn't a teenager who read nothing but textbooks, and she wasn't a boy who thought that girls' brains weren't cut out for mystery novels. She was one of the maids of the Ushiromiya family on Rokkenjima, but that didn't matter at all to Battler. Her parents had never employed servants, and her mom always told her to be friendly with the young maids from the Fukuin House.

When Battler talked with Shannon about mysteries, when she looked into her eyes, she could see the same fervor that she felt. It was the same passion, the same love. They wanted to pick apart their mysteries from the inside out, find the culprit and figure out what made them tick. Why were they doing this? What had driven them to commit murder? Could the two girls find any sympathy for them in their motives?

That was what Battler always longed most to discuss. The closed-room tricks were fun, sure, and Shannon came up with some pretty wild ways the "unsolved" ones could have been put together. But what Battler was really after was the culprit's heart. She was after the human angle.

"I…I think I understand, Battler-sama." Shannon nodded to herself, puckering her lips as she thought. They were sitting on one of the low walls in the rose garden. Battler loved sitting under the summer sky on a cloudy day like this, and Shannon always talked about how much she loved the butterflies and the smell of the roses, so they would come out here when Battler was visiting and Shannon could get some time away from work. "Mysteries are tales written about humans' struggles," Shannon put forth uncertainly, picking at the hem of her skirt. "You can't have a mystery without humans, and you can't have a good mystery without giving those humans love. Is that what you were trying to say?"

Battler stared at her, stunned. Then, she grinned hugely, showing teeth the way she had been told it was unladylike to do. "Yeah, that's it exactly, though I probably wouldn't have said it that well." She laughed, suddenly feeling a little embarrassed; however, Battler had never been one to let embarrassment stop her when she was on a roll. "A mystery's nothing without good characters. You've got the culprit, the detective, that type of woman I really admire, ihihihi… And you've got everyone in-between. Where's their motivation? Where's their heart? You haven't got a good story unless anyone who's looking for it can find it."

Shannon smiled back at her, that sweet, shy smile that Battler was always glad to see growing over her lips. Battler tried to think of something else to say, but found herself bereft of every impulse, except to stare at Shannon's smiling face.

"Battler?"

The sound of her mom's voice broke the spell. Battler looked over her shoulder to see Asumu standing under the eaves of the mansion, waving at her. "Battler, honey, say goodbye to Shannon and come on. We've got to go."

"Okay, Mom!" Battler called back. She slid off the low wall, and Shannon followed her, smoothing down her skirt with practiced care. "Listen, I've got to go," Battler said apologetically, feeling disappointment twist in her gut. "I'm sorry we didn't get to talk more."

Shannon smiled again, but it was the gracious one, the polite one that Battler was more used to seeing her give. There it was, the smile of one of the servants of the Ushiromiya family. It was wider, but nowhere near as bright as the shy one Battler had seen moments before. "There's no need to apologize, Battler-sama," Shannon replied evenly, probably another polite answer taught to her as a servant. "I am glad to be of service."

Then, Battler did something she had been working up the nerve to do since the last time her parents had brought her to Rokkenjima. She reached forwards and folded Shannon in a massive hug. As Shannon squeaked, Battler breathed, "I'll see you at the family conference?"

After a few moments, Shannon slipped her slender arms around Battler's back. "Yes, of course, Battler-sama." Her voice was a little shaky, but there was a tone of hope in it.

Battler smiled. Under the clouds, and surrounded by blooming roses and fluttering butterflies, she felt warm and happy.

-0-0-0-

"Goodness, do you expect to read all of these books while we're at the family conference? I knew you got bored sometimes on Rokkenjima, Battler, but really…"

Asumu's green eyes widened as she looked at the number of books Battler was packing into her suitcase. Battler shook her head vigorously. "Uh-uh, Mom. Shannon told me to read this one." She held up one of the books, a red hardback with a cracked spine. "She wants to know what I thought about it. I'm bringing the other ones to trade with some of her books. I hope she had time to read that one I mentioned to her," Battler fretted, as she packed a spare pair of shoes into her suitcase. "I really want to know what she thought of it."

"Oh?" Asumu laughed gently, her eyebrows arched high. "It sounds to me like you have a bit of a crush on her."

Battler felt her face grow hot. "It's not like that, Mom! Eww! Shannon's just a friend! And besides, she's like ten years old!"

Asumu shook her head, laughing again. "I know, honey, I know. But I'll remind you that twelve isn't that far off from ten, and Shannon is very mature for her age. Now finish packing; dad wants to leave bright and early in the morning." At that, she left Battler's room, gently shutting the door behind her.

Once alone, Battler sat down on the edge of her bed, and frowned.

Everything Battler had ever been told said to her that this was the age when she should have started noticing boys. Everything said that she should still find boys annoying, but that she should also be starting to find some of them cute, which confused Battler to no end. How could anyone be annoying and cute at the same time? And why was she supposed to find all boys annoying? Some of them were, sure (especially the ones who thought that girls weren't cut out for mysteries), but the rest were okay.

Everything and everyone told Battler that she was supposed to start noticing boys, but she wasn't. Instead, she caught herself looking at the other girls. Watching the way their hair swished when they walked, and how their skirts hiked up when they sat down. Listening to their laughter and their chatter more closely than she ever had before. Sometimes, Battler even caught herself looking at some of the other girls in the locker room as they were changing for P.E. and had to stop herself from looking. Not just because some of those girls looked like they could put her in the hospital if they caught her staring down the front of their bras, and not because some of them were really shy and didn't like being looked at, but because it wasn't supposed to be that way.

Was it?

There was an image that Battler had been remembering over and over again in the past few days, remembering at the oddest times. It was the way Shannon's enormous blue-gray eyes would light up when they horsed around together, the way they would sparkle when they talked about the mysteries they loved so much. She remembered the way Shannon would smile when she left her role as "servant of the Ushiromiya family" behind her. Those vague, polite smiles would grow shyer or wider depending on the circumstances, but either way, they would be so much brighter. When she smiled like that, her entire face shined like a star. When Battler saw her smile like that, her pulse would quicken, just a little bit.

Twelve-year-old girls were supposed to like boys, not other girls. That was what Battler had been told. But with those memories in mind, she couldn't quite remember why.

-0-0-0-

October was always an interesting month on Rokkenjima. It was still nearly as warm as it was in the middle of summer during the day, and the roses in the garden were usually still in full bloom. However, the nights were chilly and the leaves on the trees were starting to dry out and turn brown.

More to the point, the sky always seemed to threaten rain at least once during early October, the time of the family conference, so Battler and Shannon had found somewhere sheltered and out of the way to talk today. Well, that and Battler had heard enough from Jessica to guess that Shannon would get shouted at by Aunt Natsuhi if she caught them talking like this. They had snuck behind the bushes lining the house during Shannon's break, sitting down across from one another so they wouldn't be spotted.

Today, however, they weren't really doing a whole lot of talking at all. Shannon seemed discontented, winding a long strand of golden-brown hair around her finger and staring pensively into her lap. Her mind certainly wasn't on the books they usually talked about, and judging by her listless responses, she didn't seem to want to talk about anything else, either.

Battler knew Shannon well enough by now to know that if she didn't draw attention to her apparent unhappiness, Shannon would never talk about it. Shannon did have her sharp edges, but she wasn't one for complaining—or what she saw as complaining.

So Battler would ask.

"What's wrong?" she probed, brow knitted as she looked intently into Shannon's face.

Shannon started, staring startled at Battler as though no one had ever asked her such a question before. After that skipped beat, she affixed onto her face the polite, gracious smile that Battler had seen many times before. "I'm quite well, Battler-sama."

Suddenly, Battler could see what her mom had meant when he said that Shannon was "mature for her age." Sometimes she talked like someone a lot older than she actually was. But Battler could tell that she wasn't telling the truth. People liked to say that not admitting to feeling bothered was a sign of maturity too, but Battler couldn't agree. She put her hand on Shannon's shoulder and smiled encouragingly. "Come on, you can tell me. I promise I won't tell anyone else if you don't want me to."

Battler didn't get an answer for a long time after that. Shannon was really looking at her like she was asking her unusual, even dangerous questions now; her expression was wide-eyed and amazed. Eventually, her expression changed. Shannon's eyes narrowed, and she tilted her head downwards and to the right a bit, not meeting Battler's gaze. "I… I sometimes wonder about the world," she half-whispered, in a tone of voice that Battler could only describe as 'troubled.' "Most of the servants from the Fukuin house only stay here for one or two years, but I've already been here for four. Will I stay here for the rest of my life? Will I live out my life like this? I wonder, sometimes, if I really want to live like that."

Somewhere along the line, Shannon's tone and expression had shifted from 'troubled' to 'forlorn.' She looked so forlorn, in fact, that Battler found herself empty of all impulse except the one to make her felt better. Never had Battler liked it when Shannon looked so sad. "Well, if you want, next year I'll come back for you on a white horse and we can ride off into the sunset together or something." The moment those words passed Battler's lips, they sounded stupid even to her. That didn't mean she regretted them, however stupid they might have been. She laughed nervously. "Though I guess it might have to be a white speedboat if we wanted to get off of this island. Maybe I could name it 'Seabiscuit' or something."

Shannon stared at her.

"I mean it," Battler said earnestly. "I know you'd probably have to do a lot of stuff before you could leave, but next year, if you're up to it, do you want to just leave the island?"

If Shannon left the island, even just to go live fulltime on Niijima at the Fukuin House until she was old enough to live on her own, they would be able to see each other more often. Battler had no words for much she would like that.

A small smile appeared on Shannon's face. As it grew wider, she blushed deeply, her eyes crinkling. Battler couldn't help but smile back, foolishly. "Yes," Shannon said softly. "I would like that very much."

"It's a promise, then."

-0-0-0-

Of course, it didn't happen that way.

When Asumu died, all memory of the promise Battler had made to Shannon passed out of her mind, to remain in oblivion for what would feel to some like a millennium. Even with the best of intentions, even without intending to cause harm, a broken promise was still a broken promise, and hopes betrayed were still hopes betrayed.

Shannon was left to wonder, as the months and years passed and she had no reply, what they had had, what they had felt.

Had it been love?

That it had indeed been love was no consolation, when the root of love in her chest grew thorns and vines, and threatened to choke and tear her apart from the inside out.