Chapter 2: Beginning
"Dish." Miria ordered Deneve.
"Pass the eggs, please." Deneve politely asked Veronica who was sitting to her left, at the breakfast table. Elsewhere in the cafeteria people hustled in and out of the food line as groups sat leisurely at their tables. Occasionally a few students would wander in and out, but the majority of the student body was milling around with their friends, the threat of the morning bell still far away. Also at Miria's table were other upperclassmen friends. Flora, Lily, Hilda, and the group's oddball Rafaela, who had lost her eye in a freak accident and had a bizarre scar across her face; which - if anything - made for a good party story.
"What's this?" Cynthia asked as she pulled up to the group with Uma and Tabitha in tow.
"Deneve's refusing to tell us why there was a cute little first year in her dorm this morning." Miria informed Cynthia. Deneve ignored the conversation about her as she dished out her breakfast.
"Come on, Deneve." Flora whined, almost teasing. "We're dyeing to know - you've got to tell us."
Miria held her plate out menacingly - or at least as menacingly as a plate can be. She repeated herself. "Dish, Den-den." Deneve looked sparingly up at Miria, only slightly annoyed at the nickname. For a brief second their eyes lock and then Deneve looked away and shoveled a mound of scrambled eggs onto Miria's plate.
"That enough?" Deneve asked blankly. Miria stared back, slightly dumbstruck.
The table was silent for a moment, until a small trickle of giggles escaped from Tabitha. She immediately clamped her mouth shut when Miria turned towards her. Tabitha looked slightly fearful of Miria, but she was also blushing. Everyone at the table knew, except for Miria (well, maybe even Miria) that Tabitha was harboring an ill-concealed crush for Miria. There was a slight tension in the air.
Miria flashed a brilliant smile (and probably blinding, to Tabitha) across the table. Instantly everyone relaxed, and some joined in at laughing at Deneve's and Miria's expense.
Miria was the queen of the group of friends, if not her entire graduating class. Her approval was sought by many, and not to mention she had her fair share of admirers at Claymore Academy. And though she was like a big sister to most of the friends in the group, disapproval, though often well-meant, was harsh.
"You could at least tell us about her, Denev." Tabitha murmured as the table fell quite again. Signing Deneve looked up and Tabitha's puppy eye, God dammit. Deneve had no idea how Miria could resist Tabitha's puppy eyes, but when she started staring at you with those big doe eyes there was nothing Deneve could do to resist her friends pleas. In fact, Deneve had got into trouble on several occasion because of Tabitha. This case was no different.
"Well," Deneve started, much to Tabitha's glee and the entire tables amusement. "She's got shortish hair, an adorable grin, and about 175 cm."
Tabitha laughed at Deneve's description. "You make it sound like you're reading off her stats from a milk carton or something." Miria raised an eye at Tabitha's strange analogue, which sent Tabitha into hiding behind her food. Seriously, everyone knew of Tabitha's infatuation with Miria except Miria it seemed.
"Number 22." Miria supplied, much to Deneve's discord.
"Miria!" Deneve exclaimed and elbowed Miria in the rib. Since Miria was tough as steel, a fact that both of the friends knew, she didn't even flinch.
"Number 22?" Uma, the quietest of the table asked. "She's in my year. H-Helen. Clare's her roommate. T-They're just down the hall from me."
Veronica piped up at this point. "Clare? You mean number 47, the lowest ranking first year."
"I heard that there's a 48 this year, goes by the name of Clarice. Mop of brown hair. She probably only got in because one of the MIB's protégé kid, Miata follows her around everywhere."
"Wasn't Jean sweet on her?" Hilda slyly asked Miria, her long time friend.
"Clarice or Miata? Why would Jean like a nine year old for bloody sakes?" Miria asked.
"No." Replied Hilda quietly, slightly exasperated at Miria's ploy. "I mean doesn't Jean like-"
At that moment the other serious short haired upperclassmen of the troup decided to butt in out of nowhere. "Good morning." Jean grinned at Miria. "Speak of the devil, eh."
"Quite." Miria agreed, to Hilda slight embarrassment.
"Mornin' Denev." Jean called out to Deneve on the other side of the table.
"Hey." Deneve greeted Jean. "Where were you last night?" Though both Jean and Denev were upperclassmen and had their own rooms, it was widely agreed by everyone at the table that the two were basically inseparable and unofficial roommates from the amount of time they spent in each other's dorms. Though there had been rumors after Deneve and Undine's break up that something went on between Deneve and Jean, neither denied or confirmed anything. They were so similar, it was hard to imagine for the friends - both of them stubborn, loyal, short haired dykes. Some days they would even finished each other sentences and phrases.
"Let me guess." Deneve said, before Jean answer. "Did we switch-"
"-Roommates?" Jean finish for her.
"I guessed correct?"
"So I heard."
Slowly, with an unreadable stone-faced expression on her face Deneve raised one eyebrow.
Across the table Jean mirrored Number 15's actions. Grinning slightly, completely understanding her friend, Deneve raised the egg platter, which had earlier been used as a weapon. "Eggs?"
"Thanks." Jean took the platter and began to dig in.
"Oh, what happened last night?" Veronica pressed. Jean calmly looked at the table, who were all appearing to be hanging on her every word, saturated in suspense.
"Well," Jean started, but then someone caught her eye as she turned towards the Pieta Wing entrance. "Clare!" She called happily, waved the first year over to their table. Deneve noticed in a bit of dread and giddy anticipation that Helen accompanied her roommate towards the table.
"Hi Jean." Clare greeted the upperclassmen, her hand brushing lightly against Jean's shoulder as she stood awkwardly next to the table. Briefly looking around the table she greeted those that she recognized. "Mornin' Tabitha. Cynthia. Oh, hey Uma. Deneve. Miria." She stopped at Miria, the leader of the group. Miria glanced at Jean, nodding her approval.
Jean leaned back in her seat, to grab a spare chair for Clare. "Have a seat." Jean also took Clare's food tray and gently set it next to her. Jean glanced up at the other first year who was awkwardly standing. "You too Helen." Jean smiled warmly, but didn't grab a chair for Helen, that was obviously a special privilege only Clare was entitled to.
Helen awkwardly, but cheerfully pulled up a chair between Tabitha and Cynthia. She grinned ear to ear as she set down her own food tray, which was piled high with apples and cheese slices. Deneve seemed the only one intrigued by Helen's food choice.
As breakfast progressed Deneve watched with interest as Helen ate. Her attention was hardly unnoticed by Number 22, who would return a glance or two every few seconds, but the rest of the table had moved on from grilling Deneve to observing the new couple at the table. Helen seemed at home at the table already, smiling and already poking fun at Clare. She was the type who could adapt to just about any environment, Deneve noted as she studied Helen.
Turning her study from the person to the meal Deneve watched as Helen carefully layered the apple with her slices of cheese. Taking the cheese covered apple Helen would bite into it, her teeth being met with a solid crunch. This would repeat until Helen was done with one apple, and then she would start the process over with another apple. It was a fascinating way to eat apples Deneve thought, and an unusual breakfast.
Finished the last apple, after gnawing it down to a mere core Helen tossed the apple core to Deneve. The short haired Claymore caught it easily with a single fluid swoop of her hand. "What is this, apple number five?" Deneve teased, lightly tossing the apple core in her hand.
"You know, I'm one of the few people in this academy that actually eats well. Everyone else is too caught up in their studies. Besides, you know there's a difference between eating simply so you won't pass out in Chem class and actually enjoying eating. Eating allows you to free your mind of everyday worries." Deneve tossed the apple core back at Helen, who caught it just as easily as the older Claymore.
Helen sparred Deneve a coquettishly sly smile as she continued. She crunched the remaining bits of the apple, core and all one last time, the crispy fruit breaking under her teeth. "Eating an apple really makes you feel alive, doesn't it?"
"Nothing like a fresh apple in the morning then?"
Helen scoffed playfully. "As if these apples are fresh. Besides, I could think of much more entertaining things to do in the morning."
"Ah huh." Deneve agreed, and played along with Helen. To anyone else Helen's flirting might have come on a little strong, but as Deneve studied Helen more she realized this was partly a defense mechanism.
Her grin, her smile, her flirtatious words. They were all part of a defense facade. Deneve has just witnessed Helen without her facade the previous night, skittish and afraid, with a secret to hid. She had embarrassed easily, but even then at automatically used humor as a buttress.
It intrigued Deneve more than the libidinous undertone the Helen's voice caught whenever eyes linger too long on either side. This cute little first year certainly had caught Deneve's attention.
The morning bell brought Deneve out of her thoughts harshly, jerking her back to her now cooling remains of breakfast. She glanced around the table as chairs began squeaking from being pushed aside. As she tossed the remains in the trash can on her way out she felt herself being pulled aside by a certain pine tree haired blond. Miria. Waving a quick good-bye to everyone at the table she quickly retreated outside of the cafeteria with Miria.
"What's up with space cadet mode?" Miria asked as they cleared the threshold. Though Deneve admired her friend and recognized her as her superior, Miria had her moments.
"I was thinking." Deneve answer honestly and shortly, as per usual.
"About a certain first year." The two Claymore's looked at each other, and both nodded. Neither of the friends were a type to waste time or words. "Do you like her?"
"There are things I like about her." Deneve answered.
Miria rolled her eyes at the statement. "Good lord, Den, don't be so uptight. Do you like her?"
"There are things I like about her." Deneve repeated.
Emotionless, Miria raised an eyebrow at Deneve. "Come on, Deneve. You've been single ever since you and Und-"
Deneve cut her off. "I'm not looking for a rebound."
"And I wasn't suggesting it. Even I feel like a hypocrite telling you this, but you've go to loosen up some."
A ghost of a smile graced Deneve's lips. "Just like you and Galatea loosen up sometimes?" She knew that she was stepping in dangerous waters, but as two of the more serious of the Claymores, the friends found they could let down a little of their guard around each other.
"Galatea and I are different." Miria darkly chided.
"Yes, yes, because you two are exes there's a guaranteed no strings attached policy."
"Deneve." Miria warned. Both knew that to the group as a whole Miria's love life was a conversation no-no, but alone it was another matter.
"You leave me to mine, I'll leave you to yours."
The bell rung again, signaling the two minute warning before class started. "You've got to get to Chem." Deneve reminded the spiky hair warmly. Miria nodded, reassured by Deneve's tone. The two friends were still good, but neither like people prying into their lives. Miria turned away Deneve as they each hurried to their first hours of the day.
Just working on setting the background and characterization in this chapter. More familiar faces to show up next chapter. Though this story will be Deneve/Helen centric there will be lots of appearances and characterizations of other familiar Claymores.
And yes, Jean and Deneve totally have a lesbromance. Admit it, it would be completely possible if Jean had survived Pieta.
Feel free to drop me a review.
