Illyasviel squinted her eyes towards the chalkboard in a deliriumーit seemed like the girl who had rescued her that morning was standing in front of the class. In all of Illya's other curriculums, she had an older women as an instructor, they all looked the sameーround, gaudy lenses that thankfully obscured the view of their sagging eyelid flapsーin Illya's homeroom class, she had dodged a 5mm bullet and been assigned to Ms. Sakura Matou.

Ms. Matou was a woman in her early 20's that could have made it as a supermodel if she hadn't decided to go to college and pursue education. Her lavender hair always flowed down to her modest chest and her face always is full of nothing but Dharmic will. Illya would rather have the soft-spoken idol of a teacher instead of the ruler-wagging Ms. Rin Tohsaka; a teacher down the hall that could have made it as a Catholic school nun with her sharp tongue and obsession with the young women following proper etiquette. Despite her harsh demeanor, Illya had once walked into the teacher's lounge to find Ms. Tohsaka growling at a Nintendo 3DS and tried to forget that that scene ever happened…

The classroom was bustling with chatter at the sight of the beautiful new transfer student. The doll-like girl with ebony hair, that split at her shoulders like silk tapestry, looked down and ran her small hands through imaginary wrinkles in her seamlessly pleated skirt.

"Uh, pardon me, class," Sakura began, "could you please… um, excuse me… this is… uh…"

Ms. Matou failed to penetrate the barrier of noise. Illya abruptly stood up―the hoards of giggling girls didn't notice and continued to talk amongst each other. Illya then clutched her hands together and with a flushed face shouted, "SHUT UP! I'M TRYING TO LISTEN!" The noise that emitted from her mouth was like a shrill squeal, since Illyasviel had rarely ever raised her voice in her entire existence as a 10-year-old girl.

This caught the rest of the classes' attention; some of them even balked at the sight; Illya was usually lackadaisical and daydreaming. The only reason I ever even pay attention to Ms. Matou's lectures is because she's pretty, Illya reaffirmedーafter a shudder of nervous shame came and went, in the end, I might only care about being friendly with pretty girls.

The dark-haired girl eyed her with curiosity―Illya shyly sunk into her seat.

"Um, anyway," Sakura said with a nervous smile, "I'll let you introduce yourself!"

The petite girl with porcelain skin and a flawless complexion bowed to her politely and then turned to the crowd of anxious faces, saying in a voice that was softer than a whisper, "My name is Miyu, Miyu Edelfelt."

As she spoke, Illya imagined pink petunias bursting around her. She had such an alluring presence; Illya was practically drooling―she had never had this reaction with another person before, even with her history of leafing through naughty doujins. Never did she actually take this kind of interest in anyone else! She never thought that her heart could race so fast or that she could be so attracted to another girl! Sakura eyed Illya's blushing face and smiled coyly, "Edelfelt-chan, why don't you go sit over there next to the girl with the silver hair! Is that okay with you?"

Miyu looked taken aback by all of their "coincidental" meetings and then agreed quietly. Illya blinked to make sure that all of this wasn't a dream: first of all, she had a dream about Miyu BEFORE they even meet, then Miyu saved her from getting killed in the street, and now, they're in the same class―sitting within desk-length of each other. Illya tried to not to stare, while Miyu slowly slide through numerous desk corners to reach the desk next to her fated friend; this took longer than expected because Illya always choose to sit near the back of the classroom. Illyasviel stared at the window to avoid meeting eyes with her expediently-formed crush.

Illya combed her memory for what had happened before she got to school: she briefly remembered Miyu politely apologizing and running off (after saying that she was running late for something?)―Illya felt a terrifying amount of dread―at the possibility of never seeing her again. When Shirou reached her, he kept mouthing worried sentiments, but her mind was elsewhere. Eventually, Shirou released her from his bear-like stranglehold and personally met with the principal to explain away Illya's tardiness. Illya caught Miyu out of the corner of her eyeーthe same as one who would spot a bluebird taking flight.

Reality reemerged in a sparkling daze; Illya vertiginously adjusted her perspective over to the desk on the right. Miyu was diligently taking notes, when there was a pause in the lecture, she combed a few strands of hair behind her ear. Illya stared at a the blank page before her and thought about penning Miyu a noteーsuddenly Sakura called her name, "Illya, will you recite to me who the knight Gilles de Rais is and how he played a significant role in European history?"

Illya hadn't been paying attention, she stammered, afraid of looking like a fool in front of her beloved, "I'm sorry, I wasn't paying attention!" A warm rash of shame filled her cheeks and she nervously rubbed the back of her head.

"Okay, well, thank you for being honest," Sakura looked around, "um, Miyu, can you tell me?"

Miyu's posture was immediately straight and she spoke with womanly eloquence, "Gilles de Rais was a knight and lord of Brittany. A confessed serial killer of hundreds of children. Inspiration for Charles Perrault's fairytale, Bluebeard. Is often considered the male Joan of Arc because their history of fighting together and their similar executionーsomething that is completely heretical, in my opinion, because while Gilles de Rais tortured, murdered, and sodomized children―Joan was completely innocent, even believed to be a saint among many of denizens of the country."

"Very good!" Sakura replied, impressed, "How did you memorize all of that, in such a short period of time."

"I read a lot in my free time. I have an interest in history."

Sakura's eyes glistened, having found a student that actually cares about what she's teaching! Illya was too embarrassed to look up from her desk.

The next period was French class, another subject that Illya struggled with.

"Look at your partner's eyes and describe the way that they look in French!" Ms. Chavalier d'Eon instructed brusquely. Illya could barely meet Miyu's glimmering spheres.

"Fruit dû ceriser (fruit of cherry)," Miyu spoke, pronouncing the string of words without effort.

"Uh, um," Illya thumbed through the French-English dictionary, blurting out, "chèvre chamoisée?"

Miyu glowered at her, a salty expression being the first extreme expression that Illya had ever seen her make, though even that was very muted.

"Did I… say something wrong?" Illya asked with a nervous laugh.

"You compared my eyes to a mountain goat ..."

Miyu's cheeks puffed outーIllya could have died from humiliation. Geez, I can't do anything right today!

The school day dissolved, full of Illya flubbing her sentences. Miyu seemed subdued and barely commented on her mishaps. At the end of the day, Illya was sobbing to Shirou about all of it, hunched over like a 96-year-old.

"Yikes," Shirou replied, "it seems like it's been a rough day. You must really want to be friends with this girl!"

"I do," Illya said, but felt guilty, knowing that it wasn't everything that she was feeling―she didn't think a guy would really understand her feelings, but then again, who would? She pondered if it was even normal to have such an asphyxiating crush on another girl…

Shirou ended up buying Illya a pint of Ben & Jerry's Half Baked ice cream, and she gave him a half hug and they parted ways in front of her mansion. She glided past Sella and Leysritt's welcoming statements and locked herself in her room. Illya spent hours playing through her favorite eroge novel routes, while digging the large brownie chunks out of her ice cream and eating them first. She remembered Miyu whenever she would click on the wrong decision and two-dimensional green-haired girl would fume at her. Unlike a game, there's no restart. Miyu probably hates meor thinks I'm an idiotor both! I feel like such a failure! After hours and hours of play, past midnight, she collapsed onto her silk sheets, in a self-induced food coma and fell asleep.

The sound of droplets of water from a leaky faucet dripped into her ears; she awoke again in her room, but something was wrong. The color palette of her life had a darker hue, things that usually were a lighter color, dripped with a toxic purple and everything outside of her window looked black and white, even with the streetlights shimmering on and off incandescently. It was as if Illya had entered an alternate realm. Something fluttered past her face. Illya caught a glimpse of it.

It was a blue butterfly.