Note: I'm sure you've noticed by now that I always skip honorifics in anime/manga based fics. I do this simply because I'd rather not run the risk of butchering a system that I don't know that well. I'm fairly certain that I know when to use -chan, -sama, etc., but I would rather leave all honorifics off instead of using the wrong one in the wrong spot. I hope this makes sense.

Also, my apologies for the short length, but this is just a quickie update to get myself back into the spirit of this fic. Ugh. I've just been so flippin' busy this summer that I've not had time to work on this story at all. I've completely lost my little mental thread thingie, but hopefully I'll be able to find my way back into the groove that I started to dig a few weeks ago. So, here we go.

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"Well, you're going and that's all there is to it."

"I am not going and that is all there is to it."

"That is it, boy. I've ignored your bullshit for years, but I'll not bend on this one. You have absolutely no choice in this matter."

"I don't have a...? Are you kidding me? You act like this is just another of your damned property acquisitions instead of a..."

"Property acquisitions, eh? Well, well, well. It's nice to see that you paid at least some attention to those second rate classes of yours."

"Second rate? I graduated top of my class in one of the most difficult..."

Light flared from a match and illuminated the worn gold band on the thick finger of the man seated at his desk. The pungent smoke from the smoldering cigar curled about his shoulders like the arms of a beautiful woman before vanishing into the darkness of the study beyond. He smiled, well aware that his overly health-conscious son despised smoking almost as he despised his old man.

Carefully plucking a stray bit of tobacco from his tongue, he rubbed it between his thumb and forefinger until it dried enough to be flicked into the marble ashtray. Savoring both the sweet smoke and the expression on Tadashi's face, he slyly remarked, "Oh, don't look so offended. I know the only reason you chose that piece of shit American college was to play your idiotic football. Why the hell do you think I encouraged it, eh?"

Tadashi's eyes narrowed as he regarded his father. Placing his palms on the desk, he tried to ignore the bitter clouds so that he could squarely meet the all-too familiar eyes across from him. Exasperated, he said, "Well, I really have no clue. Tell me. Why did you allow it?"

"Truthfully, I'd hoped that you'd grow up a bit before you made it home, but you've disappointed me again. You were supposed to drink yourself stupid and fuck every sorority girl and cheerleader you met so that you'd be ready to settle down with your new wife, but…"

"You wanted me to what?" This was too much, even for him. What the hell had happened to his dad in the past few years to turn him from a fairly reasonable man into such a money-hungry bastard? Yes, his father expected him to marry that girl, but he had never before acted in such a manner. "How do you think Mom would like it if she heard you say something like that?"

Too far. He had finally pressed the old man too far. The memory of his beloved wife was a sensitive subject even when they were getting along, but now...

There was silence for a moment as the burning cherry dimmed under its coat of heavy gray ash. Tadashi watched his old man grind the stub of his cigar between his teeth and briefly wondered if he truly enjoyed the harsh flavor of tobacco, or whether he kept one in his mouth because of some bet lost years ago to some nameless acquaintance.

His father was so fastidious about every other facet of life that a habit as vile as smoking still seemed alien to the young man, though he had smoked as long as Tadashi could remember. He almost laughed. Trying to conjure a memory of his dad without a stogie lodged in his jaws proved to be a greater challenge than presenting this final argument about his upcoming nuptials to the family patriarch.

It wasn't that he didn't want to help out his family. Far from it. He knew that they relied on him to return them to their former glory, but he felt confident that he could do it using his brains instead of his dick. Why did he even go to school for all of those dreadful business courses if all they needed was a stallion to mount their chosen filly? Goddamnit, he knew he could restore the family fortunes without marrying that girl. "Father, don't be like…"

"Never interrupt me again, Tadashi. I don't appreciate it and if you do it again, I'll make damn certain that you don't appreciate it either."

"It's not that…"

"You're meeting this girl tonight, you're shaking her father's hand and you're damn well going to impress the hell out of these people. Got it?"

Tadashi groaned. He knew he should have joined the military and been shipped to some desolate region where survival hinged on wits and skill, not on money or politics. Living on dehydrated meals and fending off bloodthirsty insects, sleeping in puddles and caves, even fighting bears for scraps left in trash cans...

Hell, anything at all seemed preferable to this marriage.

He was less than impressed with the photos of his bride-to-be; she was certainly cute enough, but the scowl on her face that seemed as much a part of her as her dark hair surely meant that she was a bitch from hell.

His father waved his cigar for emphasis, failing to notice that a few embers fell to the expensive rug at his feet. Tadashi bit back a grin, imagining how his dad would rant and sputter once he would discover the tiny singed holes in yet another prized family artifact. "I don't see the problem anyway. She's an attractive girl and from all accounts, she's intelligent and quiet, so it's not as if she's going to be any problems for you."

"Yeah, she's really pretty, but you're missing the point. I made excellent grades and I've learned a lot from those internships, so I know I can find a way to bring the business back to what it was before…"

"Oh? You think so?"

"I know so, father."

"If you think you can work all of these miracles, then go ahead and work them. It doesn't matter because we're going to meet the Rokujo family tonight for dinner and you're still marrying their daughter on Saturday."

"There's no need for me to marry that girl if…"

His father smiled and Tadashi was once again disturbed to see that they had the same charming grin. Thankfully he was his late mother's son, in looks as well as personality. He was proud to know that he had his mother's dark eyes and easy, affable manner, but it bothered him to know that in spite of all the traits that he shared with his mom, it was his father's smile that people saw when they met him.

That charming, slippery smile was now directed at his only son, the living vessel for his pride and ambitions, and the single greatest reminder of his long-dead wife. "If you can save us? Oh yes, boy. Just like your grandfather, I imagine. He thought he could save us too, but we're still trying to recover from his stint as family savior, so I'm sure you'll understand if I don't share your optimism."

"Father, I…"

"Wear something nice and for God's sake, try to act like you have some sense tonight. You're going to meet your wife, not some linebacker, so talk about something besides football when you speak to her."

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"No, Nagisa. Not red."

"But I like the red."

"Red won't work."

"Come on, red is sexy."

"It is, but we're not here to find anything sexy."

"Fine. We'll call it classy and tasteful instead of sexy." Nagisa held a lacy scarlet teddy up to Shizuma for approval and sighed in amusement when she shook her head. It was a real pity that she didn't like it, because it was perfect. The new couple would love it. The sheer fabric was designed to expose just enough flesh to make a man pant and beg, which control-freak Miyuki would undoubtedly love, but it was so skillfully sewn that it would conceal just enough to make her new husband become very imaginative indeed.

She raised a mischievous eyebrow and eyed Shizuma through the diaphanous garment before placing it back on the shelf. "You always look fantastic in red."

Shizuma tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and softly replied, "We're here for Miyuki, not me."

God, Shizuma's acting weird. Normally we'd be partially naked and making out in the dressing room, but she won't even look at me today. What the hell did I do? Shrugging, Nagisa renewed her search, hoping to find the perfect gift for Miyuki. Only a couple of weeks ago, Shizuma had giggled madly at her rather risqué suggestions, even offering to buy Miyuki a lifetime supply of batteries for one particular gift, but now she was acting so... distracted. Of course, with the big day fast approaching and the time to head to the Rokujo summer home only a day away, she just figured that it was nerves or something like that.

She was only half-way joking when she said that Shizuma was more nervous about the wedding than the bride. Even after they had returned to bed, she spent the final hours before dawn muttering in her sleep, tossing that glorious hair and clutching the sheets as she dreamed her strange dreams.

Breakfast had been a near-silent affair, with Shizuma staring into her coffee like it held some dark secret of the universe and it would be revealed if she only held its steady espresso gaze. No matter how she tried to lighten the mood with suppositions and guesswork, Shizuma simply sat with her chin in her hand and sighed her answers.

Okay, so you've seen pictures of this guy, right?

Um-hm.

So, he's cute, right?

Um-hm.

Have you ever met him?

Mmm.

Shizuma? Did you hear me?

Um-hm.

So, what's he like? I hope he's cute! Or at least tall. Miyuki always seemed so tall to me, even though she's not really. Don't you think so?

Hmm? What about Miyuki?

Silly! You weren't listening at all, were you?

You mentioned Miyuki...

Yeah, only for like, the past half hour! I said that she seems tall to me and I hope that her hubby-to-be will be tall enough to fit her.

Fit her? What are you talking about? I'm taller than her and you never mention it...

Silly! I know that! I only meant that she 'seems' tall, even taller than you sometimes. You know, the way she carries herself, with her brains and her whole bossy vibe. It's kind of like she rules the world, you know? I just hope this guy can fit her, 'cause otherwise, she's gonna be totally bored with him.

Being bored is the least of her problems, Nagisa. Now finish your breakfast so we can get out of here. We have a lot to do today.

Another red teddy was considered and discarded, along with a skimpy black negligee and a shimmering pink camisole. It wasn't like Miyuki would even care what they bought for her, just as long as they were at the wedding. Why couldn't Shizuma understand that about her? "Yeah, yeah, yeah. I know we're here for her, but that doesn't mean that we can't find something cute for you while we're shopping for her! After all, what's great for you is really great for me, and I think that little red number will make both of us…"

"No!" Tearing through layers of filmy lace and silk, Shizuma's eyes sought a flash of blue. No other color would work for her doomed best friend. Not black, not pink, and certainly not red. Why couldn't Nagisa understand that about her? "You insisted that we come to this shop, but we're here for Miyuki, not me."

"What? You were the one that said we should come here instead of that place downtown because this had classier stuff! We both agreed on it just last week, remember?"

Shizuma angrily swept her hand over the carefully arranged garments and knocked them into the floor before storming out of the small shop. The store clerk raised her voice to stop her, but the slamming of the door drowned her pathetic protests.

Utterly bewildered, Nagisa followed her into the sunlit street, finally catching up with her as Shizuma impatiently waited for the traffic to pass. Grabbing her arm, she spun her around and spat, "What the hell is wrong with you today? That clerk looked at me like it was my fault that you threw a fit and ruined her work!"

Shizuma laughed. "Please. It's not as if she has that much fabric to fold, so don't try to make me feel sorry for some girl that has to arrange a few bras. I doubt that she'll even break a sweat, so I'll keep my pity for someone that needs it."

"Why are you acting like this?"

"Like what, exactly?"

"Like, God, I don't know..." Suddenly aware that her grip was making Shizuma wince, Nagisa relaxed her hands and gently stroked the ruddy fingerprints now blooming on her wrist. "I'm worried about you. You've not been yourself for the past few days and I don't know what's wrong. Until you tell me what has you so scared, I can't help you."

"I can't talk to you about..." Biting her lower lip in frustration, Shizuma took a few deep breaths and calmed herself. It wasn't Nagisa's fault that she had spent the past few weeks on a self-guided guilt trip; more importantly, it wasn't her fault that she was getting ready to lose her best friend, perhaps forever, to some meaningless pact. "I'm sorry Nagisa, but I just can't talk to you about this."

More hurt than offended, Nagisa pulled away and searched her face for a different answer. "I don't understand. We talk to each other about everything. Why can't you tell me what's wrong?"

The traffic signal changed and gave them the opportunity to scamper across the street with the crowd that had gathered around them during their brief conversation. Heels clicking against the pavement, Nagisa lengthened her strides to accommodate the much-longer legs of her girlfriend, determined to uncover what she seemed bent on keeping to herself. Flicking her hair out of her eyes, she reached for Shizuma's hand, confused once again when the affectionate squeeze wasn't returned.

"Please, tell me what's making you act this way. It seems like every time I mention Miyuki, you get so..."

A tall man bearing an armload of gift bags cursed under his breath when Shizuma walked straight into his back and forced one of the smaller packages from his grip. Retrieving the bag, she muttered an insincere apology and pulled her hand from Nagisa's so they could better weave through the busy city streets.

She wanted to quickly make it back to their apartment so she could get her luggage and begin the journey to Miyuki's family home. Though she loved Nagisa, there were times when she simply needed her best friend instead of just her girlfriend.

Miyuki would know what to do.

She always knew what to do.

Didn't she?

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"Miyuki! Come here! Oh God, hurry!"

Jerked from a rare afternoon nap by her mother's panicked cries, Miyuki thundered down the hall to her parents bedroom and slammed the door into the wall. "Mom? What's wrong? Are you okay? Are you hurt?"

Pointing excitedly at the figures on the television screen, her mother exclaimed, "That's that girl, isn't it? The one you said was so smart?"

"W-what are you talking about?" Somehow furious that her mother hadn't fallen and injured some vital organ, Miyuki wiped sleep from her eyes and plopped on the bed next to her. She was exhausted and being ripped from the only decent sleep she had for days hadn't put her in the mood to watch daytime talk shows. Yawning, she opened one eye long enough to see what could possibly make her mother scream like..."What girl are you so wound up about that you'd scare me out of...oh my God! That's Tamao!"

...And we're back, with the author of the absolutely phenomenal best-seller, 'Precious Data', and...now calm down everyone! For those of you watching at home, I'm sure that you can barely hear me over the screams of our studio audience, who've completely lost their minds knowing that...

"Well, she's a lovely girl, but look at how she's blushing! However did you persuade that shy thing to run for class president..."

"Etoile, Mom, not president."

"Oh, whatever you say, dear. My goodness! And so young! She's only a year younger than you, isn't that right?"

No longer drowsy, Miyuki snatched the remote from her mother's hands and turned the volume up so that she could hear Tamao's soft voice over the endless questions at her ear.

...So what's the tally now? Ten million? Twelve?

Umm, actually, it's past sixteen million, so I'm pretty surprised that...

Sixteen? And that's only in eight languages! Imagine the sales when your publisher finally produces the promised twelve!

Yes, that's great and all, but I really hope that there's some girl out there that can use my book to better understand...

I bet so! Understand how to write a novel that may go down in history as one of the fastest-selling books ever, you mean?

Umm, yeah, sure.

"Well! She could at least give the poor girl the chance to answer her questions!"

"I don't think that Tamao is really meant to do the talk show circuit anyway, so I'm sure..."

"She just interrupts her before she can get a single word in! How very rude of her!"

Miyuki rolled her eyes and tried to focus on Tamao's hesitant answers, but a commercial break signaled the end of the interview, much to the disappointment of the new author's fans.

"Just think, Miyuki! That girl went to the same school as you and she's doing such great things! Doesn't that make you proud?"

Miyuki felt the resentful beast residing in her belly uncoil and stretch, ready to snap and bite and tear any foolish enough to ask her about great things. Tamao was writing, putting her thoughts to paper just as she had always dreamed, Shion was throttling her competition and swiftly climbing the corporate ladder, undoubtedly in the shortest mini-skirt she could find, and Shizuma...

Well, Shizuma had Nagisa, so she was perfectly happy.

"Yes, I'm very proud of her. It's gr-great that Miator has such a-such a stellar alumnus to-to demonstrate all the qualities that we want all of our students to-to..."

Her mother's arm was around her shoulders before she could finish, silently agreeing with her, though unable to help her. For all of her pride in her brilliant daughter, she wished that she had been born with much less intelligence. Why couldn't her daughter been a simple girl instead of the fiercely clever woman now weeping into her lap? Why did she have to understand so much?

"Honey, please don't do this. You know how it upsets your father to see you in such a state."

"I know, but I can't do this. I just can't."

"Please Miyuki, we have to meet your fiancé in just a few more hours and we can't let him see you with red eyes."

"Mom, please don't make me do this..."

Skydiving and that trip to Athens, skinny-dipping during a lightning storm, an opera in Venice, eating an entire jar of peanut butter in a hot tub, chasing fireflies, dancing with Shizuma, or even just seeing her smile for her the way she did for Nagisa; every wild dream she ever imagined had flown away before the chrysalis was aware that it had been broken. "I had so much I wanted to do and now..."

"Miyuki. That's enough." Pushing her away and moving to her bathroom, she yelled back to her daughter, "Don't ever dwell on things like that. You'll go mad if you do."

"Mom, don't you see why I can't...?"

"Just...go to your room and get ready. We've wasted too much time watching that silly show as it is. Make sure that you wear something nice. You've lost some weight lately and I don't want you meeting your husband looking like a bag of bones."

Miyuki wiped her eyes and slowly wandered back to her room, dragging her hand along the wall as she so often did when she was a child.

Hell, maybe if she called Tamao, she could get an autographed book sent to the honeymoon suite. That would give her something to do while she lay on her back and played the perfect little wife.

Laughing, Miyuki turned on the shower and kicked her clothes to the wall. A quick little meet and greet with the fiancé could be tolerated, if only because it had to be tolerated. After all, once the night was over, then the next day would break, when Shizuma swore that she would be at the train station. Of course, Nagisa would be right beside her, but she was incidental.

One more night, then she could at least hold Shizuma's hand and listen to her hum those aimless songs she hummed so well. One more night, then she could smell her perfume and braid her hair and pretend that the world belonged to them.

Miyuki closed her eyes and let the rushing flow of water drown all sounds and thoughts from her mind, except those that were with her no matter what she tried.

Please Shizuma, I want us to be what we used to be, before Kaori and Nagisa and everyone else. Just give me that and I'll never ask for anything again.

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Note: God, I think I've watched SP so much that it's creeping into my writing. Yeah, it's melodramatic and weepy, but considering the source material, I don't feel too bad. I promise that I actually have a half-baked plan for why Miyuki is acting like such a spineless sponge up to this point. The feminist in me is screaming to get on with it, but I've some work to do before I give Miyuki the oomph I so very much want her to have. I'll try to update sooner than I have so far. I suck with time management.