Legato

by Hazel Liebovsky

Legato : music without breaks between notes. Smooth and connected. Set seven years after the anime. In order to save her shattered relationship with Nagisa, Shizuma accepts to work as permanent conductor in an orchestra. There, she will find the meaning of the word legato.

7. Chapter 7

Eh. Don't kill me, please. I know.

Critic, I answered you at the bottom of the chapter if you're interested.

This chapter takes directly where the previous one ended.

Minha Filhia is 'my daughter' in Portuguese.

Mauro is pronounced Ma-oo-ro

Still don't own Strawberry Panic!

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Legato

By Hazel Liebovsky

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Chapitre Six partie deux

One hour and half… it's only one hour and half. Not a big deal, right? Nothing to be worried about. Especially when you already experienced the twenty hours flight to Australia at least twice a year. Yet at this moment, it did not matter to her. All Shizuma could focus on at this instant was her pounding heart and the cold liner of sweat running on her back, taunting her. She grabbed her purse and fumbled in it, again. The woman knew it was in vain, the bottle of pills was not going to magically appear, not after four infructuous attempts. Damn it! She knew she had forgotten something the moment she entered her car. Why, of all things had it to be her pills! She let another frustrated, quivering sigh and looked around. Isis was on her left, eyes narrowed and completely absorbed by her phone. On her right, the hallway. Passengers and stewardesses adorning big deceiving smiles, looking happy like that. How could they be so oblivious to her state! They didn't care? Why nobody cared? Shizuma gripped the hand support in frustration.

I can't stay here. I have to… I can't—I need to go… the conductor was losing control. She closed her eyes, taking lungful shaking breaths. It did not work and she was interrupted by a stewardess with her big grin and faked happy demeanor.

"May I help you?" She bended forward, her eyes flickered to Isis quickly. "The plane will take off shortly, Miss. You have to turn your phone off," and refocused her attention to a very pale looking Shizuma.

"Do you have sleeping pills?" the tone of her voice was hollow.

The stewardess cocked her head, the smile not leaving her face. Widening, even. "I apologize, but the policy of the company does not allow us to provide medications, were they needed in case of emergency," she recited the speech learned by heart.

In case of emergency… The words played in her mind. Wasn't she an emergency enough? Shizuma has never felt the need to punch someone before. Right now though, she would not be against a well-placed uppercut. She was not one to beg either, not wanting to give the satisfaction to anyone of seeing her in a weak position. It did not matter at this moment and it's with difficulty and a dry mouth that the woman started her plea. "Can't you do something? Pleas—"

"It's alright," Isis interrupted suddenly, looking at the stewardess whose frozen smile had not moved the slightest bit for the last two minutes. "I'm going to take care of it," she received a nod as the other took her leave.

Shizuma turned at her sharply. "Why did you… she was going to give in!" It was a lie, of course and both of them were aware of it. Yet it did not matter for the conductor's delirious mind. She was actually very close to unbuckle herself and run away.

"No, she was not," a sigh came out of her mouth. "I thought you had taken care of that long ago." Like, after the fiasco on the roof for example. The other grumbled in response before shutting her eyes tightly and yelping when the plane started to move. "Okay, okay. Look, it's going to be alright. Just… think about something else?"

"Why thank you, I have not thought of that before. Any other luminous advice, Isis?"

The concertmaster's eyes widened slightly at the remark. She had never seen Shizuma like this before. "Well, you're bitchy today," she received an apologetic smile and grinned. "I like it."

"This is not funny."

"Am I laughing?" She pointed at her face, the grin still glued to her lips for a second. The plane advanced to the runway and stopped. She noticed how the other woman's grip tightened on the buckle and decided that it was time to act. Her hand feathered delicately over Shizuma's before she took it. "Let go."

Shizuma compelled reluctantly. Isis opened her hand, palm up and started scrutinizing it with attention. She smoothed the outline slowly, making the conductor shiver at the touch. She should not be shivering now! Why was she doing that, anyway? Did she think turning her on right now was a good idea, really? On other circumstances, the older woman would be the last one to complain – or not complain at all, for that matter – but now was not the time.

"W—what are you doing?" The hoarseness of her voice startled the conductor.

Isis did not respond immediately, still focused on her hand. Fingertips continued to run their way on her palm for a minute. "Here," she finally uttered with a smile and started to massage the newly found point.

It took a moment to be effective but Shizuma felt a surge of relaxation invade her. It was subtle, but enough to make her pounding heart slow down and her muscles to defuse. Isis gazed up at her minutes later, not stopping her motions. "Feeling better?"

"I…" she swallowed, her eyebrows furrowing slightly. "Yes," and oddly enough, it was not a lie. She casted a look at the window next to the girl. They were up in the air and she had not even noticed it. "How did you…"

"You're not the only one that can do voodoo stuff, you know." She winked; referring to the time the conductor had hypnotized her. "It's an acupuncture point," the woman explained. "It diffuses small doses of endorphin through your body," not as much as making an intense effort or even having an orgasm but it was enough to calm one down. "Adam taught me that." A confused look appeared on Shizuma's features at the unknown name. Not someone from the orchestra, she was certain. "The doc at the hospital. Physiotherapist." He performed it on the concertmaster at the end of their session.

The guy had invited her to dinner on the last day of their very last session. Isis suspected he needed that much time to gather his courage, she knew men, after all. Did not accept right away – she knew men, after all – and had preferred to go with a generic sentence 'I will think about it' and a smile, not to mash up all the work for him while keeping the door open. Maybe I will call him when I come back. Maybe not. Her eyes sparkled as she remembered something.

"I heard you put quite a show at the hospital when you first came."

Shizuma sighed. "I was worried," bluntly honest. That's a change.

"Yeah…" Isis eyed the scar on her wrist quietly. "Sorry."

It was still visible, only partially hidden by the bracelet of her watch. She had come a long road till now. Part of the reeducation program she had been through included accepting the fact that no matter how hard she tried, the woman would never be able to play like she used to. She had to find tricks, byways that would help her get back to her level without endangering the wrist and spoiling all the progress made. The most flagrant change was the restraining strap the concertmaster had to wear every time she was playing. It was interfering with her freedom of movement sometimes but that was necessary. Extra and meticulous warm up was needed as well as a pack of ice at the end of every session to cool off. Shizuma herself had seen her doing it countless times.

Something struck the conductor's mind suddenly. "Why did you want us to go now? You don't seem to be particularly fond of Paris." Yes, why choosing to go two weeks before the concert after doing all that fuss about not going there in the first place? It did not make any sense.

"I don't like Paris. It's grey. Everything is grey. Even people are grey." Shizuma smiled, she has a point. Although she knew it could not be the only reason. "And we're not going there. At least not until next week."

"What?" The older woman blinked.

"There's no way I spend two weeks in Paris."

"Why are we going, then? And where?" She looked genuinely confused.

"Surprise, surprise." Isis winked. "Just rent a car when we land and enjoy the ride."

-0-

Busy. Noisy. Smelly. The airport was like a miniature town regrouping every flaws of the bigger one and exacerbating them. Isis melted her way in the crowd, skillfully flowing in between people to get to a shop. Shizuma and she had parted ways once they landed, the conductor going to rent a car with a more than skeptical face while she browsed around for items for their trip. She directly headed to the row of drinks, taking a two bottles of water before turning around and making her mind on the candies. Chocolate, for Shizuma. Of course, she sighed, smiling a bit. The girl can't possibly live without her fix. She took other stuff for the both of them and nougat. Very important.

The concertmaster smiled back when the cashier greeted her. She ran her eyes over the shop quickly, checking if she had everything she wanted. Her gaze fell on the range of magazines nearby and she picked one, adding it to the stack with a sneaky smirk.

Shizuma was waiting outside the airport next to the newly ranted car. Her luggage was already packed. She was checking the red tape given by the car dealer a few minutes ago. He had been smiling all along the moment she stepped in. Did not look at her in the eyes until the woman specified the model of car she wanted. His mouth had hung up widely at that moment and his eyes shined with excitement. The vehicle attracted a lot of curious gazes once she parked. A few recklessness even dared to whistle at it and its owner both, having more or less rude comments to add and were blatantly ignored.

The conductor was so absorbed in her papers that she did not notice the newcomer. "That's the car?" Isis stared at the engine with incredulity.

Shizuma looked up, grinning broadly. "Isn't she cute?" By cute she actually meant sexy.

"She?" The other sighed, rubbing her forehead. "You've got to be kidding me. This…" a finger pointed at the car. "This isn't a she. It's a coffin, Shizuma. A coffin on wheels."

She leaned her back against the car's door, unfazed. "One that can go from zero to one hundred kilometres per hour in less than five seconds." A broad, proud smirk spilt her face.

"My point, exactly." Isis sighed again. She was not getting it. In fact, she wasn't getting it at all. Actually she never understood cars' appeal. Especially fast cars. Especially when the said car cost ten years of her salary as beauty salon's employee. How could they find a heap of steel attractive? Let alone cute? It was a damn car for God's sake! Something that is supposed to carry you from point A to point B. Nothing to brag about. "Whatever," she went to get her luggage in the trunk and walked to one of the front doors. "I'm driving."

"What? No."

"Look, the traffic here is awful. I know ways so let me take the wheel until we are out of the city or we will be stuck for hours." her eyes narrowed. Shizuma was gauging her too.

Truth be told, the conductor never used a car during her escapades in Paris. Taxis were largely enough to take her wherever she needed, expensive yes but useful. Thus cars were not needed. In other words, she had never driven there but it would take the devil himself for her to ever admit it. Hence why she did not give up. "The car does have a GPS. Do you even have a license?"

It was a legit question, after all. She had always seen the concertmaster walk around. She never mentioned another mean of transport, let alone a car. It made Isis scoff and shake her head in despair. She put her purse on the roof of the vehicle and scoured in it for a second before shoving a pinky piece of paper at Shizuma's face.

"There. It's a French one. Happy?"

The conductor tsked in irritation, knowing that she had just lost that fight. Isis did not wait for an answer and climbed in; putting the items she had just bought on the backseats. Shizuma followed silently. "How long did you live here?" She asked when they made their way through the traffic.

"In France?" The concertmaster received a nod. "I don't know… fourteen, fifteen years maybe? Something like that. I was around five when we moved, I think."

Her eyes widened a bit. "That's a lot," compared to her own childhood here. Shizuma had only spent a few years in the country. Two, or three. Enough to catch up the language for good.

Isis shrugged. "My parents wanted to settle here for life. I came back to London on my own."

The question 'why' was burning her lips, begging to come out. To be voiced and finally satiate her curiosity, but the woman did not dare. She had the sentiment that now was not the time. She just hoped the woman would feel comfortable enough to tell her, one day. Shizuma decided to focus her attention to the streets instead. She gazed out of the window, drinking into the architecture of the city and the blurry passers before giving a confused look at the other.

"The highway was the opposite way."

"I know," the concertmaster clapped her tongue. "We need to make a quick stop before hitting the road," she smiled. "Won't be long, I promise."

Shizuma nodded, grabbing the items on the backseat. Chocolate? Check. Water? Check. "What is that?" She asked, the magazine in her hands.

Blue yellowish eyes left the road a second, a humorous glint in them. "That's not for you. No questions." The conductor looked bewildered; ready to ask her again but was interrupted. "There we are," the young woman turned to her again. "Give me two minutes," she took the magazine from her hands, the nougat and left the car.

"Oh…" the concierge said when Isis entered a building. "I can't believe it! You…"

She smiled, an index on her lips before pointing upward. "Are they here?" Her French was a little cranky from lack of practicing. It made her wince.

The elderly woman shook her head, a big grin on her features. "Holidays."

Isis could not suppress the sigh of relief that statement brought her. She was not quite ready to meet them, not yet at least. She walked to the counter, putting the items to write something on a piece of paper before giving everything to the concierge. "Can you give them these when they come back?"

"Yes. Yes, of course."

The concertmaster thanked her and received a bear hug in exchange. She walked back to the car, releasing another sigh. "Ready?"

Shizuma looked at her doubtfully. "You still have not told me where we are going," the car roared to life, silencing their conversation, but not before her practiced ears caught a whisper.

"Home."

-0-

The conductor moistened her lips, a perplexed look on her face. The expectantly gaze she was given was not helping either.

"Come on! You can't do that to me, Shizuma."

She sighed. "I honestly don't know," then tried her luck again. "Tetris?"

Isis shocked on the bottle of water, swallowing with difficulty. "What the… you're hopeless. You hear me? Hopeless!"

"I know," and it's not like the woman was keeping herself updated on these things. Although, she had to admit that the thought of losing again was a little bit vexing. "But thank you for reminding me," she kept silent for a moment before daring. "What was it?"

"The Who," she sighed in despair. "Baba o'Riley."

It was her turn to laugh. "There's really a band called the Who?"

"Are you really asking me that?"

Shizuma shook her head. "Never mind." She, who excelled in mostly everything she did, was having her ass promptly kicked at a blind test game but hey! It was not her fault, right? It was Isis' for choosing songs the conductor had never heard – cared, to be more precise – about.

They had been relaying each other behind the wheel, grabbed lunch at a station and were longing the lavender fields now. The older woman had to admit this improvised road trip was… pleasant. She had never been on the roads with Nagisa, or anyone before. The thought had never crossed her mind. She had just not the time, not the will. Right now though, she was feeling relaxed, at peace even.

"Alright," the conductor fumbled with the buttons. "My turn," piano notes filled their ears when she pressed 'play'.

Isis chewed on a candy thoughtfully. "Amateur," she smirked. " Petrouchka, Stravinsky."

No surprise here. It was unfair. She could not trick her and the young woman even knew those obscure composers and pieces Shizuma had learned about at the Royal College. She had nothing to do but accept a defeat by flagrant K.O. and take notes for future reference, not to repeat the humiliation.

"Turn left at the next traffic light," she said when they entered Nice. They did not use the GPS at all, mostly because Shizuma completely forgot about it and Isis turned out to be a very capable and entertaining road companion.

They drove for twenty minutes more, the concertmaster's indications preventing them to fall into the traffic and get stuck. It was still summer and the city was full of tourists. The smell of iodine and salt was intoxicating and Shizuma found herself taking lungful intakes of air, a smile grazing her lips.

"I've never been here before."

"Really?" The woman turned to her, receiving a nod. "Well, you missed quite a thing. It's a cool city. But it gets crowded every summer and during Cannes' festival too," people taking hotels by storm, camping all over the place for the night and then running like cows back to Cannes at ten minute-drive. That's why Isis always hated spending summer here when she was young.

They were almost at the end of town when the concertmaster made them go through another route. Her eyes wandered on the landscapes. Sketchy details she forgot. The smell. Cicadas. And—damn it! Horses. She completely forgot about the horses. Isis finally spotted the hill and then the house, closing her eyes and breathing slowly to calm her rasping heart.

"There," she pointed out with a hand. "Just… park nearby."

The hushed tone of her voice alarmed Shizuma. It was so alien. "Are you alright?"

"Yes." Liar.

The two women got out of the car, the white rollers blinding Shizuma. She observed the house they were heading to. The abrupt lines of a brick red colored villa contrasting with the mix of green and yellow vegetation all around. It smelled of iodine here, too. "Where's the beach?" She asked, trying to relieve the rising tension of the other.

Isis looked surprised at the sudden question, crashing out of her bubble. "Don't tell me you smelt it from here?" A victorious grin answered her and she smiled back. "At about twenty minute-walk if I remember well."

A white portal barred their way. "We need a key—"

The concertmaster reached for the knob on the other side of it and opened the portal. "It's for show," her eyes sparkled a bit. "Never closed." The older woman's brows furrowed. It was dangerous, wasn't it? Leaving a door wide open for everyone to see. An invitation to robbery. She was going to voice her thought when Isis preceded her. "It's the south, Shizuma. Everybody knows everyone. Nothing to fear, believe me."

The young woman did not bother with the front door and went directly to the garden behind the house. Both of them could already hear the chatters. Shizuma did not realize Isis had slowed her pace and was walking behind her now. She had been acting weird ever since they entered Nice. Deadly silent at first – not like the concertmaster was one to babble around but still. Then now, letting her take the lead while she hid in her back. That was not right. That was not her at all. She wanted to turn around and ask but the conductor found herself stuck, at a loss of words at the sight of a little blond head with hair as fine as silk looking right back at her with a thoughtful expression.

"You are not my auntie," she turned her head to the right, where the chatters were coming from. "Mom! There's a Snow Woman in the house!"

A surprised 'what?' echoed among the voices and laughter. The sound of plastic chairs being tugged and steps rushing towards the conductor. Shizuma felt her cheeks heat with embarrassment. What the hell was she doing here? Why was Isis so damn mute? The little girl went to hide behind a leg, tightly wrapping her tiny arms around it. Hazel eyes matching the kid's locked with amber ones. Surprise and suspicion shined in them. The woman was amazingly short, the conductor remarked.

"Who are you?" She asked distinctively in French. Her hand went to caress the blonde locks and drew the girl closer to her.

Shizuma instinctively put her arms in defense. She had no time to answer as another woman in her late teens appeared from the garden. "Wow," her blue and yellow eyes sparkled with amusement. "What the hell happened to your hair?" She was laughing now.

"Emmy," the shorter woman snapped. "There are more serious matters right now."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yes." And by the sound of her voice, it was not something to look forward to.

Finally, Isis decided it was time to manifest her presence and spare a heart attack to the conductor. She cleared her throat and stepped aside from the woman whose silver blur had efficiently hidden her frame till now.

"Calm down," she switched the conversation to English. "She's with me."

Silence filled the gap between them. Three pairs of eyes were gazing dumbly at the concertmaster, soon followed by Shizuma's. No sound came out of their mouth no matter how much they wanted to talk. They were frozen, unable to move. Trapped in a fragile and ephemeral bubble where everything was hushed, everything seemed unreal. The truce was only short lived as another voice approached them.

"What's going on here?" This one however was heavily accented. British. With a hint of humor. "You all left me alone you unworthy daught—Isis…"

"Hi," the said girl waved weakly. "Mom."

Then, then it came back. Everything. Noise and feelings. Sensations. Isis was being hugged. Tightly. Crushingly. A frozen heart warming up. Lips salted by tears brushing against her cheeks. Memories rushing. Hands wrinkled by age clutching at her face. Touching. Words. Comforting at her ears. Everything was back like she never left. Everything is spinning. Was she crying, too? She looked up at her. Her mother. Caitlin. Mom. And those eyes. Those blue and yellow eyes, the ones she gave her. They were shining with emotions, brimming with tears. Just like hers. Life.

---

It was like being in a zoo. Except she was the exotic beast under the glass cage. Scrutinized. Examined from all angles. One of them was suspicious. The other just merely curious. And the last one was smiling mysteriously. As if noticing something she failed to see. But Shizuma knew one thing. She hated this feeling. Their demanding gaze was weighing on her and the fact that she did not know where or on whom to cast hers was not helping either. After the moving reunion with Isis, they had all headed to the terrace and sat silently. This was when the inspection had begun. A silent interrogation that was utterly unsettling.

"Guys." Isis was seated next to Shizuma. "Stop that, okay? She's not an alien."

"She sure looks like one," Emily said before being elbowed on both sides and tibia. "What? Seriously, have you seen her hair?"

"I…" her mouth finally agreed to open. "I happen understand French as well," she said looking at the third girl whose eyes widened before she chuckled to hide her embarrassment.

"Sorry. No offense."

"None taken." Shizuma let a smile appear at those words. If she was not already certain Emily was Isis' sister, this would have asserted her suspicions. She had her eyes as well as the petite nose. Her hair though, was a shade darker. So was her skin, but the conductor assumed it was more due to the sun than genetics. The dimple was also nowhere to be seen.

"You still have not told us who you are."

It was the concertmaster's other sister who spoke. Her daughter was on her lap, playing with Isis' sun glasses. They were too big for her tiny face and kept on falling off her nose. Shizuma found the image quite cute. She looked up at her mother's whose face was unmoving. She did not know what to think of her. Actually, both of them were in the same situation; the conductor knew she was gauging her. She did not know why though, it's not like she came all the way till here to officially ask for Isis' hand in marriage. She merely followed the young woman. Maybe she should explain her that. Maybe it would make the girl stop looking at her like she was going to slit her throat with a coffee spoon if she made a wrong move. Maybe not. Shizuma decided to answer her question instead.

"My name is Shizuma Hanazono, I…" why was her voice quivering. Did she feel nervous? Why on Earth would she feel nervous? She couldn't be. She had no reason to be!

She heard laughing. It was melodious, carefree and the conductor realized it was Isis' mother. The elder woman ran a hand through her short hair and shook her head, looking falsely outraged. "Please forgive my daughters' behavior," she turned her head left to right, scolding them tacitly.

"It seems like they have forgotten their manners," her voice went hard on the last word which made the two other women bow their head submissively. The smile grazing her lips came back quickly, "I am Caitlin. Isis' mother, as well as these two savages over here." she outstretched her hand across the table. "A pleasure to have you among us, Miss Hanazono."

Shizuma felt an unusual surge of warmth invading her body. This woman was nice, polite, yes but not only. There was something else. Something emanating from her, a weird vibe the conductor could not quite decipher. It was pleasant to be treated like a normal being. "Thank you."

"Yeah, welcome." Emily smiled. "It's cool that she finally decides to show up," she turned to Isis. "Why didn't you tell me you went all the way? Chloé would be proud." The mortal glare she received was enough to freeze Hell itself. Emily grinned wickedly and dismissively waved the death stare with her hand, leaving Shizuma completely confused and out of it. "I'm Emmy, by the way," she turned back to the conductor. "Isis' younger sis."

The three of them gazed at the last one who cleared her throat, ruffling her wavy brown hair with one hand. She looked at Shizuma who noticed the dimple fluttering when she spoke. "Tania," her hazel eyes lit up as she lowered her head to the kid to drop a kiss on her skull. "And this is Sarah," the smile on her face made her look totally different. More approachable. Less scary. The blonde girl kept playing with the glasses, completely ignoring them.

"Where is Dad?" Isis looked over the garden in hopes to spot him. She had been uncharacteristically silent all along. Shizuma wanted to ask why but she had the feeling it would be uncalled for.

"You know him," Caitlin said. "Checking on the horses, as always."

The conductor's face lit up at the same time as Isis' paled. "You have horses?"

"Ha! It's a whole goddamn stud." Emily replied, turning to her sister. "You did not tell her?" The concertmaster shook her head and narrowed her eyes, not liking the mischievous look she was given. She mouthed a discreet 'shut up' but the other would hear none of it. "Aw, come on! It's been years!" She giggled.

"This is not funny."

Shizuma felt lost again. Her brows furrowed as she tried to catch up what was being discussed. She felt a light caress on her hand. Caitlin smiled back when they made eye contact and nodded to her with a fond look, telling her things would clear up shortly.

"Oh yes, yes it is." Tania went on, stabbing the concertmaster in the back. "I can't believe you're still afraid."

"I am not afraid." Isis insisted. "Besides, whose fault is it?" She gave her a pointed stare. "You locked me in."

"It was a joke!" The woman defended.

"All night."

Emily could not take it anymore and burst in laughter, grapping her sides. Caitlin indulged in a small smile. "We found her in a stall in the morning," she explained to Shizuma. "Poor thing was curled in a corner and refused to come until the horse got out."

"It was not a simple horse!" Isis shook her head vigorously. "She locked me with a crazy one."

Shizuma's brows knotted slightly. "We were going to put him down," her mother informed. "Sad but necessary. His mental and physical health was declining. It was a good boy, though. Great with kids."

"He was crazy, Mom," Isis replied. "Crazy." She shook her head again and stood up. "I'm going to see Dad." He still did not know she was here, after all. And she did not want him to acknowledge the news once he came back. "Can I trust you to keep her relatively sane?" the concertmaster pointed at Shizuma.

"Sweetheart!" Caitlin looked wounded.

"Please. Who do you think we are?" Emily bided.

Isis shook her head for the third time and left, the conductor could not help but smile at them. The awkwardness of the first moments was gone. The woman felt content. At ease, among those strangers who were attaching in their own twisted way. She felt at home.

-0-

The sun was slowly declining, offering its orange and purple shades to the sky. She had walked slowly on purpose, what was only a five-minute-walk had taken almost fifteen. The woman did not know what to say. She had to, but her mind was desperately empty. Maybe apologize? Yes. An apology. And then what? Isis sighed, running her eyes on the stud. The meadows were filled with horses. They were going to spend the night outside, no need to keep them closeted during summer. Ears pricked and alert, a few of them looked back at her curiously as she walked. Only one trotted towards her somewhat happily, making the concertmaster deviate a little bit from the road.

"Go away," she quickened her pace and he kept walking beside her along the barrier. "I'm not Emmy. Get lost." Why wasn't he getting it? And all the negative vibes she was sending in his direction right now? How could he just ignore them? Animals were supposed to feel when you did not want them around you, right? It's like he was doing it on purpose. Taunting me. Just like his mistress.

What her eyes caught first when she entered the stable was his back. He was bent over, seemingly busy with a recalcitrant box door. She heard him curse in his language and smiled. Some things never change.

"Can you get me the monkey-wrench over there?" He pointed at the table, still giving his back to Isis. He thanked her without turning around and refocused his attention on the door.

The concertmaster sat on the table opposite to him and waited patiently. Her mind rehashed the different conversations she could have with her father and their outcomes. She still did not know what to say, how to say it. The woman was not someone to search or stammer with her words, usually she would just go with the flow, engage in a topic. She was not an awkward conservationist, quite the opposite actually. But what can you say after five years? Where to start? How? There's so much to say, yet Isis knew she would tell none of it. She had tried, yes she did. With her mother earlier. And Tania, Emily too when they were seated in the garden. To tell them she was sorry, that she did not mean to leave that way. That she had missed them so much, it hurt to be around them now. It hurt to see how they were ignoring the issues and just talking, laughing with each other like she never left. Like nothing had happened. Like five years had not passed. Everything changed and remained the same, in a way. They had gone with their lives, just like she did with hers. Isis only hoped their roads were meeting at some point and she had not missed the boat.

She was so lost in her thoughts that she didn't notice the man was not fumbling with the door anymore. Actually, he had turned around and was looking at her right now, his face unreadable. "Minha filha…" he muttered, followed by long minutes of silence. He's never been very talkative man. Sullen, even for those who did not know him. But he never lacked affection for his daughters or Caitlin.

He smiled, his dark eyes shimmering with untold feelings.

She smiled back.

A tacit understanding.

I missed you.

A promise.

Don't do that again.

An apology.

I am sorry.

Acceptance.

I forgive you.

And finally, contact. Isis did not realize she had hopped off the table, not until she had her arms around his neck. Not until she felt his soothing hands on her back and arm that made her embrace tighten in response as her body shook with silent tears.

I love you…

-0-

About twenty minutes later, father and daughter were walking their way back home. Isis had her arm firmly wrapped around his as they walked in silence. "I brought someone…" she said after a while. Tension rose into him, his feature darkening at the words. "A… friend," the concertmaster clarified. The man turned to her with a quizzical expression, waiting. "My boss actually, but she's a good person." If someone had told Isis few months ago that she was going to refer to Shizuma as 'good' someday, she would have laughed at their face. "You will like her. I'm sure."

He made a sound of agreement. Something like a quiet grunt of approval.

Typical Dad, the thought made her smile. Night had settled its quarters and lights were on when they arrived. Isis stepped inside, eyes darting everywhere, taking her marks again. The house had not changed much from a first glance. New TV, same carpet. Same wood and white colored walls. Pictures on the shelf opposite the hall, new photos had been added. Sarah's fourth birthday, Emily's graduation… one picture caught her attention though. It was taken when she was eighteen, during a holiday visit. The concertmaster could not quite remember how she found herself in such a twisted position, legs upward with a young teen Emily sprawled on her back and Tania literally crushed on the both of them, her hand burying Isis' head so deep in the sofa that the camera had only caught her right eye. Her lips inwardly curved up, Happy times.

"…Yeah she did!" Emily's voice echoed from the kitchen. "It was so awkward!" She heard her chuckle. And then Shizuma's. And her Mom's. For some reason, she really did not like the sound of it, especially when her sister spoke again. "God, I wish I had recorded it!"

Isis rushed to the kitchen, finding the four women engaged in a conversation while cooking dinner. Sweet aromas tickled her nostrils. "What are you talking about?" She asked with a frown.

"I was telling Shizuma about that time you went commando and everybody found out." Emily said without missing a beat.

Isis' face literally froze in a rictus of terror, the room falling into a dead silence as they all looked back at her.

"Kidding!" The young woman said after a long, agonizing minute. "You should have seen your face right now," she giggled. "See? I told you it would work," Emily winked at the conductor who was broadly grinning. "You're getting old, Isis," one of her fingers pointed up in a solemn pose. "There was a time when you were doing these jokes."

"It's called growing up, brat." The concertmaster poured a glass of water for herself.

"No. I think boring is more appropriate," she smiled, not trying to dodge the towel she was thrown.

Isis wanted to give a hand to make dinner but all posts were already taken. They were working quickly and efficiently, she suspected they were not even aware of it considering how they kept babbling at the same time. Shizuma was showing off her famously amazing cutting technic to a more than impressed audience.

"Wow," the youngest woman was totally charmed. It perplexed Isis. "It's like you're a Chef in disguise or something."

Shizuma shook her head, looking at her while her hands were still focused on their task. "Father used to spend a lot of time in the kitchen. He taught me a few tricks," she gazed away for a few seconds. It felt weird to open up about her past, like that. Of course, she had told Nagisa about this a while ago. But other than that, she never really mentioned her family to anyone. Let alone what were complete strangers to her only a few hours ago.

"Mauro can't hold a spatula for the love of God," Caitlin laughed. "Even a poor coffee machine can't hold this man," her daughters promptly nodded in agreement.

"Mauro?" Shizuma crooked a brow upward.

"Dad," the concertmaster informed.

Her mother nodded. "He can fix anything you want, but don't ask him to set a foot in here." It was not machismo, really. The poor guy was just not gifted with things related to cooking. Not that he had never tried, he did. But the family's survival instinct stated that he shall never come here ever again.

"Well, except if you want the kitchen to magically fire up." Emily added. "Then, he's your man," she went on explaining how he destroyed a mixer one day, making Shizuma laugh and the others to shake their heads at the memory.

The table was set in less than ten minutes, the conductor went to the bathroom to refresh herself and wash her hands. That would have happened indeed, if she had not bumped into someone. What she thought to be an animal by the way it growled turned out to be a human being. A raven black full beard with equally dark hair was all she could see at first. Gruff and stocky, the man was looking up at her with such intensity that Shizuma felt herself taking a step back. His face was unreadable, not hostile, but not welcoming either. They kept gazing at each other for a while until the woman remembered her manners.

"I'm Shizuma…" she closed her mouth shut.

He stared at her, appraising the conductor from head to toe for long minutes. A grunt was the only response she got before he stepped aside and left her, finally allowing the woman release the breath she had been holding. She met with Isis on her way back. The concertmaster gave her a curious look before smirking.

"You just met Dad, didn't you?" It was not really a question and by the face Shizuma was making, the woman already knew the answer.

"He is…" she trailed off. "Original, to say the least." She knew now where Tania's scary aura came from. It was genetic.

Isis burst in laughter and patted her shoulder. "Relax. He doesn't eat people…" she walked away and added, "On Mondays."

-0-

Caitlin opened the door with a sigh. "Here you go," she gestured for Shizuma to enter with her luggage. "Isis' room. It's not much, but I hope it will be enough for the both of you," she winked knowingly at her daughter.

"Uh…" the concertmaster looked surprised. She had not really planned on this. "Can I get Tania's room?"

The woman's brows furrowed in confusion. Did she misunderstand something? "I'm sorry sweetheart, but your Dad turned it into a playing area for the kid last year." She smiled. "You're slim but I don't think you can fit into a toddler's bed."

Isis sighed quietly. "How about Em—"

"No way in Hell!" A voice cut through a closed door. "I'm not sharing my bed with anyone. It's too hot!"

Both women blinked. "Gotta cherish the sisterly love!" She replied, loud enough to be heard.

"Anytime!" Emily said with a series of giggles.

She stepped inside, joining Shizuma who was looking around. Her room had not changed at all since she left. Her single-but-not-really-bed was still by the window. The office had been cleaned up, though. No more pens and paper scattered everywhere, vestige of her student years. There was the bookshelf she remembered spending an entire day to build up because Dad was not here and she obviously is not gifted with furniture. One of Caitlin's oil paintings was on a wall, shadows and lights playing on a horn shaped seashell. And the pictures. Dozens, hundreds even, carelessly stuck on the wall just above the headboard. Some of them were showing a teen looking orchestra. Others had Isis hugging people while smiling to the camera or making faces. There were a few of them with family. One, in particular drew Shizuma's attention as she recognized the statue behind which they were posing.

"Is that Sao Paulo?"

Isis was busy with her wardrobe, she did not turn around. "Yep."

The conductor's brows furrowed slightly in thought. She remembered walking by a flag on her way up and suddenly everything clicked together. "You… are Brazilian?"

It made the other laugh as she grabbed sheets and pillows from the closet. "Does Vasconcelos sound English to you?" She waited for Shizuma to say something but she did not. "Dad left Brazil for England when he was major. He never talks about his life there," or talk at all for that matter, the older woman wanted to add, remembering the three poor words he had uttered during dinner. She did not dare, though. "Besides, we only went twice."

"Doesn't he have a family over there?" She sat on the edge of the bed, looking as Isis pulled a nightgown out of her luggage, shaking her head and taking a tank top and a short instead.

"He does," the concertmaster said. She did not add anything else.

Shizuma got the hint: no more questions about it. "And you speak Portuguese?"

The woman yawned, shaking her head again. "No, just a few curses." Mauro could get pretty… colorful when something was displeasing him and children had the – sometimes bad – tendency to repeat everything they heard, with a special spot for bad words. She started to unfold the sheets, laying them down on the ground under the curious gaze of the other. "I'll sleep here."

"Don't be ridiculous, Isis." It's not like they had never shared a bed together, right? Fine, it was not a double bed but it they both could fit in. Why was she acting like this? Was she afraid?

As if feeling these questions, Isis shook her head. "Emmy was right. It's summer, it gets hot," she looked up. "Trust me. You will be thankful tomorrow morning," she tapped on the pillow lightly and positioned it.

Shizuma stood up. "Then let me sleep on the floor. Take the bed," she did not even know why it mattered so much to her.

The concertmaster shot her a bewildered look before laughing it off. "You're a guest. Guests take the bed."

It was her turn to laugh. "If I recall correctly, you made me sleep in your couch the other time."

"That was before…" she tensed, realizing too late what she had said aloud. Shizuma waited patiently for an explanation but the woman shook her head again. "Nothing."

It would be relatively easy to press the matter on her. To ask again until she snaps, lure her with words. But the conductor did not want to do that. Shizuma was not stupid or dense she had felt the changes, the evolution of their relationship. She was aware of their growing complicity as human beings, not only as artists. They have both fought against it at first. She did not know Isis' reasons but hers was simple: fear. Fear that being herself would not be enough for someone else. She had always played a role, ever since she was a child. A loophole to the disease for Kaori, a shining star for Miatre, Spica and Le Rim, a mysterious entity hidden in the features of an upperclassman for Nagisa, a source of admiration for pretty much everybody else. She had always been something to them, not someone. Not a human being properly said. People always expected something more from her. Why? She did not know. They have always wanted her to be more than what she already was, making her think, in the deepest corners of her being that nobody would ever desire what she truly was if it were not for the extra. A simple woman.

Isis? Isis had never asked anything from her. She had never expected her to be something she was not. It did not mean she agreed to her doings or would not voice her concerns with more or less snarky remarks. But she never wanted her to play a role. That was what confused Shizuma the most. Everybody wanted something from her, it was a known fact. The concertmaster had not. Although uncertainty always plagued Shizuma, she realized that Isis had never made her seem unworthy of her attention. So no, insecurities be damned, Shizuma was not going to ask what she meant by 'before' because she knew she was going to find out, sooner or later. And that for now, she was just going to enjoy being herself around the only person that had never judged her.

-0-

The first thing she heard before opening her eyes was the cicadas. Above them were other sounds… cars far away, an unintelligible conversation much closer. She could not make up the words, caught in between dream and reality until the smell of fresh coffee pushed her brain over the edge. Eyelids opened lazily, it took Shizuma a few minutes to adjust to the dimly lit room. The only source of light was the sun going through the flaps sneakily. Her brows furrowed at the unknown surroundings until she remembered where she was and relaxed a bit. The window had been opened at some point during the night, Isis' doing most certainly. Shizuma closed her eyes again, enjoying the moment before shifting to her back and turning her head to the make-up bed on the floor. It was nowhere to be seen. What time is it? She knew the concertmaster was an early riser but she should not have let her sleep. The road trip had been till here had been tiring for both of them but she could not afford to seem lazy to the woman's family.

The question was; why did she care so much?

Shizuma shook her head and rose from the bed, stretching herself out at full length. She heard a satisfying pop and walked to the office on a corner to get her luggage. A light blue post-it was stuck on her bag. It had Isis' handwriting.

For the love of everything holy, wear something before you come down. Thanks.

She laughed quietly, looking down at herself. She was topless. Putting on a show like she did last time she slept over at the concertmaster's place was indeed not a good idea. And it's not like she did it on purpose the last time, right? The cat had surprised her. Not her fault. Shizuma walked down minutes later. Quiet chatters were coming from the terrace. A hand came up to protect her eyes from the sunlight as the woman stepped outside.

"Hey, Isis! Your Sleeping Beauty is up," Emily's voice of course.

"Shut up, Emmy."

Everybody turned to Shizuma who was a little surprised by the sudden rush of attention. Isis let a small sigh of relief at the sight of the clothes she was wearing. "Good morning," Caitlin greeted with a smile. "Here, take a seat," she moved her chair away to let enough room.

"… Morning," the conductor uttered indistinctively. Silence settled again, gazes directed at her. Her eyebrow came upward in confusion. What did I say?

"Man, that's one hell of a slug we got here!" Emily cheerily said, receiving stares and a confused look from the conductor.

"Shut up, Emmy." Isis repeated a little more coldly. Her sister wordlessly compelled this time.

Caitlin shook a dismissive hand at them, giving another smile to Shizuma who was crumbling a croissant and eating slowly. "Not a morning bird, are you?" She poured her a cup of tea. The woman shook her head in agreement, thanking her politely.

It had been years since she had last taken breakfast outside. London's charming weather rarely allowed such fantasies. The change of surroundings was highly pleasant. The three other women picked up the thread of their earlier discussion. Shizuma only caught snippets, not paying much attention. Isis was being updated on the last gossips thanks to her sister and Caitlin. Former classmates getting married, having children…

"He got so fat! You would laugh if you saw him."

"Did he now?" Isis asked, absent-mindedly pouring a glass of juice for Shizuma.

Caitlin smiled at the scenery. She's not even aware of it… "You had a crush on him in elementary school, didn't you?" She enquired knowingly.

The concertmaster froze for a second, looking dumbly at her mother. "I don't remember," she answered a little too quickly.

It took all of Emily's will not to take that blatant opening the woman had just served her on a silver tray. It would be so easy! She hesitated again until a warning look from her mother settled her decision. She sighed dramatically instead. "What are you up to?"

Isis shrugged. "You've got something in mind?"

Emily looked at Shizuma. "Beach? You said you had not gone for years."

The conductor took a sip of her drink, nodding. "I did not bring a swimsuit with me, to be honest," she did not know she had to. Isis had not warned her, she did not tell her where they were going otherwise she would have planned something. A swimsuit was unnecessary for a concert.

The girl's face lit up. "Who cares? We'll hit the city first, give you a tour and get a suit there, yeah?"

A confused expression settled on Shizuma's face, all those giddy feelings radiating from her so early in the day… it was too much to deal with right now. There was also the easiness with which Emily had accepted her among them, that was a little unusual. Shizuma was not used to easy familiarity. Protocols of politeness however had no secrets for her anymore. Rules, easy to apply and reassuring. Conditioned since kindergarten, it usually took people months, years even to get comfortable around her, not twenty-four hours. It felt weird… but not unpleasant. Strange indeed, but a good kind of strange.

"Yes," she smiled to her and then focused her attention to Isis, a tacit question in mind.

The concertmaster caught the hint. "I will catch up with you later."

Not the answer she had hoped for.

The rest of breakfast passed swiftly and half an hour later Emily and Shizuma were gone, leaving Isis and Caitlin alone. Mauro had left long ago to the stud and he was not going to come back until the evening. Mother and daughter were in the kitchen, the young woman washing the dishes while the other observed her, seated on a chair next to the kitchen's island. The silence was comfortable, though both of them knew it was not going to resolve their issues.

"I like her." Caitlin started looking at her back.

"Shizuma?" The concertmaster received a hum of approval.

"Highly mannered people aren't your usual," she continued. "I'm surprised."

Isis shot her a sly glance at this, as well as a sarcastic 'thank you'. "We work together."

"And that's it?"

"That's it."

Her daughter was a highly stubborn thing, Caitlin reminded herself. She was not going to get answers like this. She rose from her seat and proceeded to dry the dishes Isis had just cleaned. They were standing beside each other, now.

"Your hair," the concertmaster spoke. "I like it. It suits you."

The woman instinctively ran a hand through her short locks with a smile. "Thank you, sweetheart. Your Dad was surprised the first time but he didn't say anything against it, oddly enough."

"Dad doesn't talk whatsoever." Isis retorted, making the both of them laugh.

Caitlin opened her mouth to speak when something caught her eyes. "What is that?"

"What?" The concertmaster looked down, following her gaze. "Ah, this," also as known as the scar. "Nothing, really," she looked up, her mother's eyes were filled with worry. Shit! She had not meant for her to know about it. "I just slipped in the shower a few months ago."

"Isis…" Her voice was a little harsher. A proof that she had not bought her lame explanation in the slightest.

"What?" She was not going to get nervous now. She was not going to get nervous. Not in front of her. "Really, I'm alright. Look," she shook her wrist loosely to prove her point. "It's nothing, Mom. I swear," the concertmaster shook her hand some more. "See? I'm good."

"It's serious, Isis," her mother glanced at the scar again. "Why didn't you call? Why didn't you say anything?" Her voice was getting louder now, more preoccupied. "Why don't you ever say anything? You're worse than your Dad sometimes."

There, it was done. The first brick of their upcoming long explanation the young woman had always dreaded. It was set. No turning back.

A glass fell on the sink with a loud thud. "I'm sorry, okay?!" She had almost shouted the word. She was beyond caring, though. "I know I screwed up," she was not talking about the incident in the bathroom anymore. It was deeper than that. "I could say it's not my fault, yeah. And knowing you, you'd totally agree, but that's not how it works. I am responsible."

"Isis…"

"I am to blame," they were facing each other now. "I tried to convince myself for five years that the reason why I left, the reason why I didn't come back for so long is because I could not face him. But that's a lie. The truth is I could not face you. Because I know how you would react, how you are reacting since I came back. Like nothing ever happened."

"Why?" Her eyes closed for a moment as she fought back the tears. Tears unleashed for years. Her honesty, as sharp as a knife. "We could… we could have—!"

"For God's sake Mom, stop! There is no we, here. I had to do something, and I did," she shook her head. Maybe not the best decision, but it was done. Over. "I didn't want you to look at me like you are now. I didn't need your pity."

"You are unfair." Caitlin snapped, her body shaking in furor. "We supported you! We were here for you!"

"This is not what I asked for!" Her voice rose again. "I needed to be alone, can't you understand that?! I needed to get over it on my own, Mom," she uttered the words. "I… had to go."

The woman closed her eyes again. "Five years…" her breath was erratic. "Five years, Isis…"

A hand went to squeeze her mother's shoulder slowly, as if afraid of what might happen. "I know," she whispered.

Caitlin tensed and relaxed, opening her eyes. "Why, why so long?" Her question made Isis look away in thought.

"I… don't know," she said after a while. It was the truth. She did not know. Chances were if it were not for the concert taking place next week, she would not be here. If it were not for Shizuma, she would not be here. The conductor was oblivious to how much impact she had had on Isis or Caitlin. Not that the concertmaster was going to tell her.

They kept quiet for a while. The silence was not awkward as it used to be and both women felt somewhat lighter. Of course, some things were still left unsaid, unfinished, but for most part they managed to get rid the blame and anger plaguing their beings. Caitlin looked up at her, and for a split second her mind tricked her. That expression of loss and worry, the one she had worn so many times a very long time ago. Among her three daughters, Isis was the one who looked the most like her. Not only physically, most of her personality, flaws and qualities. She could see them in her, she could see herself. They haven't had the same life for sure. Caitlin had burned hers from both sides, experienced the extremes and made numerous mistakes. Necessary steps that leaded her to who she was today. Isis had gone through something that forced her to grow into a strong woman. One Caitlin was proud to call her daughter.

Isis finally dared to meet her gaze. Eyes sparkling. Silence only lasted for a few seconds before it was broken by their joined laughter. Her mother grabbed the hand caressing her shoulder and kissed it. "Is it over?" The tone of her voice was so unsure; as if afraid that if spoken louder, the words would make her daughter disappear.

The woman nodded, determination showing on her features. "It's over, Mom. I swear."

---

"I will catch up with you later."

In Shizuma's vocabulary, later meant a few hours tops. For Isis? It meant an entire morning and half of the afternoon. Not that she was worried about her whereabouts. After all, the concertmaster knew the city; she could find them quite easily if she wanted. No, what was confusing her the most was Isis' overall behavior since they arrived. Her silences. The thoughtful and nostalgic expression she could see on her face when the young woman was not looking. Shizuma only caught snippets of information as everybody seemed to just avoid talking about sensitive subjects such as her relatively long absence by their sides. She did not have a precise date, though. Shizuma suspected it had been more than a few months since they last saw her. Interrogations were growing in her head. Did she have the right to question them? Most importantly, did they have any answer? How about Isis? Would she quench her curiosity or find something to avoid replying?

The woman sighed. Stupid thoughts. And, why did even she care?

"You will get wrinkles if you keep frowning like that," Emily came back to sit opposite to her at their table. "What's the matter?"

Shizuma thanked her for the drinks she fetched them. "I'm just…" She shook her head. "Thinking." Emily waited patiently for her to explain, taking a sip of her drink. She looked up at her eyes. Alike and yet so different. And shook her head again. "Nothing important."

"Oh, come on!" The girl leaned on her seat, smiling slightly. "You can't just let people hanging like that! It's so unfair." A hand came to play with the straw of her cocktail. "Let's play twenty questions," she said after a while, looking back at the conductor. "You answer my questions and I do yours."

Fair trade. Shizuma put her elbows on the table, her hands supporting her chin. "Fine."

A giant grin split Emily's face. "Great. I ask first," her eyes sparkled with excitement. "Wh—"

"Leucism," she cut with a smile, knowing full well what her first question would be. "It's my natural shade of hair, I don't bleach it," it widened when the other chuckled and she spoke again. "This is a genetic alteration. It doesn't affect the eye color, just hair and skin. I can't tan, for example." Or catch sunburns which the woman was very happy about.

Emily nodded slowly. "Is it hereditary?"

Shizuma acquiesced. "Father. And his father before him," and pretty much all the Hanazono dynasty too.

Silence settled for a few seconds. "That's…" she trailed off. "That's so bad ass!" The young woman clapped her hands. "Tell you what; your first born is mine. I want my bleached child!" The other just shook her head, a small smile on her face. Emily leaned in the table. "Okay, your turn."

The conductor sighed again. How could she broach the subject without seeming too intruding? She had always been good with words and elocution in general. Her duty as Etoile as well as her seductive demeanor taught her that. But Emily was not a parent she had to convince of the merits of enrolling their daughter at Miatre or a potential conquest. "I…" she took a breath. "What happened? With Isis, I mean…" Had she the right to ask?

All giddiness was gone from Emily's features, her expression turning into gravely serious. "Did she tell you anything?"

"No." Shizuma shook her head. "I never asked her, to be honest."

The girl nodded, her expression had not moved and the mirth in her eyes was gone. She kept silent for a minute, thinking. "It—I… I don't think it would be fair to her if I—"

You're an idiot, a voice scolded in her head. "I'm sorry," she cut quickly. "You're right."

What did she think? Asking Emily like that… like she was going to take the risk of revealing things for Shizuma's sake. If Isis had not told her, it meant she had reasons not to do so. It was not a lack of trust, not really. After all, the concertmaster had introduced her to her family, right? So, she trusted her. No enough, it seems. Maybe she should stop acting like a child and ask her directly? What could happen anyway? Her resolution settled, Shizuma made a mental note to get to talk to Isis at some point during the week and dropped the topic with Emily. They kept talking, drifting to a subject and then another one until the concertmaster finally decided to join them. The question was nagging Shizuma from the bottom of her mind every time she glanced at Isis but she ignored it. They did not leave the terrace of the café until it closed.

-0-

One of the perks of living in the south of France was obviously the sea. Emily was still a baby when her parents made the decision to move. She had not gone through England's funny weather and had pretty much always lived with an enjoyable temperature and sunny days, which she took for granted now. She could not understand why her siblings seemed to treasure every day spent out. Why they were so happy to be able to take a meal outside as much as possible and going to the beach at least twice a week, even during winter. Well, she did like the sea and the half-naked guys wandering around. But if there was a way for the girl to stay away from the sand forever, she would be happy to comply. She has always hated sand and was harboring it even more now as she stepped out of the shower. Her hand went to wipe steam out of the mirror and she checked herself before walking out to her bedroom. Fingers were at the ready on the hem of the towel to remove it as soon as the girl was safe in her room. Which would have happened if her eyes had not noticed the figure lazily sprawled on her bed.

"The hell, Isis!" A hand went to her heart. "You almost gave me a heart attack!"

The woman rolled over on her back, propped on her elbows. "You're still standing."

Emily stuck her tongue out and walked to the dresser, putting on underwear while keeping the towel safely wrapped around her body. "What are you doing here?"

"Tasting the joys of having a mattress," she replied, tapping and stroking the double-bed that was even bigger than the one she had in London. Spoiled little brat. Her back had been giving her hell since she slept on the floor. "Your room has changed a lot."

"I'm not fourteen anymore."

"Oh, that you're not." The teasing of her voice alarmed Emily. She turned around, her face dropping at the sight of the piece of lingerie dangling on her sister's index. She snatched it from her and shoved the piece in the drawer. "Wait," Isis spoke again. "Are you blushing?"

"Shut it." Cheeks were burning, indeed.

The woman laughed. "So, all that cool attitude you've been pulling since I came back was just for show," the next words were spoken more quietly, as if just for herself. "You're still you, after all." And she was not going to lie; it was reassuring in a way. "So…" the teasing was back. "You don't want to talk about it?"

"About what?" The grin on her sister's face was extremely infatuating. Emily forced herself to remain calm. No way…

"You don't know?" The smile widened.

Answer a question by another question. Clever. She decided to play it cool. "No, I don't know what you're talking about."

Isis nodded, grabbing the stereo remote on the bed. "Then, a little reminder might be useful," she pressed play. Equivocal lyrics from an eighties song filled the room. Emily's face paled, as the other kept grinning mischievously.

"Like a virgin, touched for the very first ti—"

Emily literally slapped the power button off and tackled Isis on the bed, turning her face down.

"No! No, no, no!" The concertmaster pleaded but it was too late. Hands and sneaky fingers were already at her sides, tickling mercilessly. "Stop!" She managed between laughs and breaths, trying to fight back. "Stop, please!" But the tickling did not stop. Last chance, " I give up, okay? I give up!" She repeated, face red and out of breath.

"Ah-ha! Sweet words of salvation!" Emily pulled away from her, lying on the bed.

It took a few minutes for Isis to regain a semblance of composure. She turned around to her side, facing the other. "You're an awful being."

"Look who's talking," came the quick reply.

Silence settled again. Isis kept looking at her with a small smile. However, this one was holding no mischief or teasing, a genuine smile. They made eye contact for a second before the concertmaster burst in laughter. Emily scoffed.

"Stop making fun of me."

The woman shifted to her back, still shaking with giggles. "I am not," then more seriously. "Did you use protection?"

"Of course yes!" She snapped. "How did you find out? And who knows?"

Another chuckle. "I thought it was already settled that I know everything going on in here," she winked. "And Mom does. We can't hide anything from her, remember?" Emily nodded in agreement. It was a known fact that Caitlin had this ability to know everything that was hidden from her. Secrets did not live long when she was in the room. "Tania, of course. And I suspect Shizuma too, but I'm not sure…"

"So you're telling me that the whole goddamn house knows?!" Her eyes widened.

The woman paused. "Yes," she gave her a toothy smirk. "You aren't exactly subtle."

Emily sighed in defeat. She wrapped an arm around Isis' belly and hid her burning face in the crook of her neck. "I hate you all," she whined, the sound muffled by her sister's shoulder.

Isis did not say anything. Her hand came upward and started to stroke Emily's hair slowly. She was gazing at the ceiling, thoughtful.

"It was weird."

"It usually is."

Emily pulled back to look at her profile. "I don't really know how I should feel," her voice was small now. She was back to being a teenage girl. "I mean, it was not all spectacular. And it hurt." Oh, little girls' dreams crashing. "I don't even know if I want to do it again, it's just…" she shook her head, confused and desperate.

Another smile pulled at her lips. "Well, first of all: don't tell him that. He might take it badly." Actually, make that certain. Such a delicate and susceptible thing, male pride was. "Secondly, there is not a usual method to deal with this. You just do it your own way. You don't have to do it again right away. Sort your feelings, give it time." Her little pep talk was confusing, the woman was aware of it. But Emily seemed to have gotten some sense, she nodded. "And it will get better…" she trailed off. "One day." Another pause. "Sex is usually lousy for us, the first time."

"Not fair," her head was back in her sister's crook.

"Not fair," she agreed.

They were quiet again. "She asked questions about you." Emily said. "About what happened." She felt the body next to her tense. "I didn't tell her." Isis relaxed.

"Good."

"But maybe you should."

For a moment, only their breaths could be heard in the room. "I… can't." It was a whisper. I'm not ready.

"It's been five years, Isis."

Five years, six months and eight days… It was a reminder. One she had been trying desperately and failing to forget. It kept winking at her from the bottom of her being, taunting her. Sometimes it felt light, almost invisible. Other times, the weight of its presence was too much to bear. She had settled for loneliness and distance in order to heal herself. Thinking that it was the best solution, for all of them. Maybe her decision was not as selfless as she wanted it to be. Maybe it had been a mistake. A five-year-worth one.

"She cares about you, you know?" Emily drifted her out of those thoughts. "Don't you as well?"

"I know," Isis nodded. Of course she knew. Shizuma had changed, the conductor admitted it herself. She was still her, but at the same time it was not entirely her. The only thing that both of them did not know was whether it was something permanent.

"Don't you?" She repeated.

"I…" Am scared of what I feel. "Think… I think I do." And it was frightening. The woman was barely able to look out for herself, let alone taking care of someone else. Of Shizuma, most especially. How did they even reach that point? "And stop smiling," she looked back at Emily. "This is not something to be happy about." How in Hell did the conductor do to win her sister over so easily in so little time? Hanazono charm. Goddamn witch. "She's no saint, Emmy. Don't be naïve."

"So are you."

"I'm serious. You don't know her like I do," her sentence was purposely misunderstood by the girl who kept smirking wickedly. "Wipe it off, I did not mean it that way."

"Oh, come on! It's so obvious. Haven't you noticed the way she looks at you?" She did. "That woman is totally eye-sexin—mhmph!" The rest of her sentence was muffled by the pillow.

"Shut. Up."

Emily nodded under the pillow. She took her breath slowly. "You should give her a chance." Isis shot her a threatening look. "Okay, fine," she waved her arms. "Peace."

On the first floor, the object of their discussion had somehow landed in an unknown room during her little tour. It looked like a little studio. Some paintings were on the walls. Others had been carefully placed on a corner of the room. A massive table was placed in the center with several color palettes, brushes and multicolored cloths. It smelled of paint and charcoal.

A canvas caught her attention. It was on another far corner of the room, as if placed there purposely to be forgotten. A white sheet was hiding its frame. Curiosity got the best of Shizuma as her hand acted on its own and slowly removed the sheet. Her eyes widened at the sight. The fine line of a woman's profile appeared before them. She was looking out a window. The painting did not catch her face, only brown hair as she was looking the other way. The setting was not colored yet, only the woman and the window were standing out. A light blue summer dress hugged the curves of her silhouette, letting the shadow of a rounded belly appear. Her left hand was placed on it, as if trying to sooth the growing being inside. Shizuma was completely mesmerized by the nymph captured on the delicate paper. The whole scenery, although unfinished, was conveying a sort of melancholia. It was hard to define, the clear and pale shades all around that woman. There were only warm colors, yet it felt cold, fade, as if to highlight only her. She was the center of everything.

The conductor felt an inexplicable wave of sadness invade her. A simple piece of paper, an abandoned work like there are millions. Something so utterly simple, contrasting with the sophistication of today's artists had managed to twist her insides in such a way…

She heard a shaky breathing, but it was not hers. "It's been so long." Caitlin stopped by her side. Shizuma crashed out of her bubble. She turned to her, ready to apologize but the woman cut her. "I have never had the strength to finish it."

Amber eyes looked back at the painting. "I can see why," the words were uttered.

"It was draining," Caitlin nodded. She approached the painting, her hand caressing the outlet of the woman slowly. She should have had destroyed it a while ago but she never had the heart to do it either. Her eyes looked away, at something else.

Shizuma understood and quickly changed the topic. "It's impressive," she turned around, gazing at the studio.

"Thank you," a shadow of smile appeared on her lips.

"You could expose them in a gallery." Actually, she was certain of it. A return to the roots of painting. Simple and efficient. Shizuma smiled, she knew one or two people who could expose the paintings if the woman was interested.

Caitlin chuckled this time, waving her hand. "Oh, no child. That's very sweet, but I left that bohemian life a while ago. Painting is only an outlet. A hobby. I'm not interested in going back to the light." The conductor gave her a confused look. "I see my daughter hasn't told you anything, has she?" Shizuma shook her head. The woman sighed in despair. Ungraceful brat. You should learn to trust, she mentally scolded Isis, hoping that it would get to her somehow.

Shizuma sat on a chair in front of the massive table while Caitlin opened the closet. She grabbed what looked like a small chest and put it on the table, taking a seat next to the other. "I have not opened this case in years," her eyes sparkled with excitement. It looked quite old indeed. Older even, were the items in it. The woman fumbled a few seconds before handing a picture at Shizuma.

Her eyes widened. "Is… is that… ?" Time had imprinted its yellow mark on it but the man's features standing next to a young woman were clearly identifiable. She looked up, surprise and amazement shining on her face.

"New York, 1983." Caitlin smiled. "Yves insisted that I assist him. It was right when I decided to retire."

"Yves… the Yves? Saint-Laurent?" Shizuma knew she was sounding dumb, asking the obvious but she could not help it.

"Yes, child," the woman chuckled and gave her another picture. "Barcelona's very first fashion week," she explained. "The girls could barely stand on their feet," she brought her index and middle finger to her lips, blowing in between them in an equivocal gesture. "It's a miracle we got anything done, that day," she chuckled again, joined by the other. Caitlin and Shizuma continued this little introspection for a while. Pictures after pictures, the elderly woman adding a little anecdote on each and every one of them. Time passed swiftly and after a long while, Caitlin showed her the last picture.

"Ah," the conductor smiled. "I know this one." It was the misleading photograph she had seen. "There's a frame at Isis' apartment,"

The other woman laughed. "Her place was actually my pied-à-terre in England when I was still working." A place she had emptied a while ago with the help of a short, gruff guy who had stolen her heart with his sentimental awkwardness. Last step to her new life.

"Who took it?" Shizuma was observing the picture from a closer eye now. Absolutely beautiful.

"Oh," a flash passed through her eyes. The distant memory of a bygone time…

… What's your name?

… Kate.

… Kate, it is. You have beautiful eyes, Kate. You know that?

…. Yes. Yet, she was the one mesmerized at this instant. I do…

… Kate? Take off your clothes…

An alien flush reddened her cheeks, she fought with it before giving up and letting it spread. "Uh," the woman cleared her throat, while Shizuma gave her a perplexed look, completely oblivious to her state. "A… mirage. Talented photographer, really." But as elusive as water. Someone she never managed to figure out.

The conductor nodded, gazing at the picture with interest. She gave it back and glanced at her watch. Half past two in the morning "It's late."

Caitlin nodded, grateful again for the change of topic. That girl had a thing for reading people. Maybe it's what Isis needs. Someone who could read her. Who would be willing to. She closed the door behind them and called the conductor before she went up. "Goodnight, and thank you." Shizuma smiled back.

Isis was lying on her 'bed' on the floor when she entered. She had her glasses on and a book in her hands.

"I did not tell her… Maybe you should."

The discussion Shizuma had with Emily earlier flashed in her mind at the same time which resulted in the both of them staring weirdly at each other for a moment. It was the concertmaster who snapped first, kicking the thoughts out of her head and closing the book.

"I see you quickly got into the South's stride." Sleep late, eat late and nap.

The woman grinned and walked to the office where her bag was to get ready to sleep, giving her back to the other. "Not yet, I'm afraid." The shirt came out first. "Your mother has a gift for painting." Then the pants. "She showed me pictures of when she was younger." And lastly, the bra. "Why didn't you tell me she was a model?"

Silence answered her question which got her worried. Shizuma half turned around, her arms swiftly covering the upper part of her body only to find that Isis was totally and openly checking her out. It took a few seconds for the young woman to snap out of her trance. Her eyes widened when she noticed that not only she had been spotted, but there was also that infuriating lopsided grin on the conductor's lips when she looked back at her.

Got you!

Damn it! "It slipped my mind," Isis quickly stood up to turn the light off and went back to her bed. Her face was burning.

Shizuma lied on the mattress with a content sigh that turned into a laugh as she remembered the concertmaster's face just a few seconds ago. A pillow hit the side of her face. "Fine, I will stop," the mirth was still evident in her voice which made the other scoff.

Isis rose a moment later to get her pillow back and settled again.

"With what happened, I think I have the right to a goodnight kiss, yes?" The conductor half joked.

"Keep dreaming."

I shall. Shizuma thought, a smile on her face as she fell asleep.

---

Time passed without them realizing. Four days, then five and six. They were in a bubble enjoying the little time remaining. Emily had showed the stud to Shizuma while Isis and Caitlin were gone visiting Tania and her little family. The conductor was leaning on a barrier, observing as the girl was preparing a horse.

"You ever rode?"

"Yes," she nodded. "We had a riding club back in school." It was supposedly reserved to Spica's students, but Shizuma being her usual self decided otherwise and used some of her free time to sneak in during her first and second year. She continued to train after that, during the holiday when and if she was back at home. Everything stopped when she started taking her job a little too seriously. "It's been years, though."

Emily knotted the reins on the saddle, opened the door and let Shizuma guide the horse outside. They walked side by side to the young woman's horse. Emily climbed on him, giving her back to the other for a moment.

"Okay, settle the brackets first," she explained. "Let the left one loose enough so you can climb." She was bent over the side of the saddle, adjusting hers before turning around. "Then you—" Shizuma swiftly hopped on the horse, only using momentum and her legs in a graceful show of flexibility, cutting the girl's sentence halfway. "… Never mind."

The conductor chuckled, taking the reins with a firm hand. "Ready?"

"You bet!" Emily winked.

"Wait." A voice startled them. It was not loud, just unexpected.

Mauro's figure walked towards them in a frantic pace. He was looking straight into Shizuma's eyes and for a split second, the woman thought he was going to grab her and toss her over. It took all her will and composure not to just run away screaming. The man stopped at her – slightly shaking – leg, still looking at her for a long minute. He finally sighed and fumbled with the interior of his coat, grabbing a pair of gloves.

"Take this." His arm kept hanging in the air for a while as Shizuma's gaze drifted from him to the gloves stupidly. Mauro rolled his eyes. "You pianist, right? Musicians must keep hands safe," he stretched the gloves her again.

"Oh." Finally, fear let its place to logic. Shizuma gave him a bright smile. "Thank you," she took the pair from him and put it on. The man nodded and walked away, leaving the two women alone in silence. "I thought I was going to have a heart attack," the conductor uttered, looking at him from the distance.

Emily burst in laughter. "Pretty much the effect he has on everybody," she tapped her shoulder. "You're the first stranger he gives more than three words in a row. This has not happened in a while," she smiled. "Congrats!"

Shizuma returned the smile, feeling very proud of herself for some reason. "Let's go."

-0-

Isis was sitting on a barrier when they came back, two hours later. The woman was conversing with her Dad who was – God knows how – smiling broadly, a hand wrapped on her forearm. It confused Shizuma for a moment. She had never seen the man smile, let alone this big. In fact, she was pretty sure he couldn't smile at all. It disappeared as soon as he spotted the two women arriving. Isis' lips came downward at the sight of the horses, her body tensed in apprehension and she hopped off the barrier.

"Calm down, girl." Emily shook her head, mockingly. "You do realize these little buddies only eat grass, right?"

"Not my problem," the concertmaster retorted. "Just get them away from me and we're cool."

Shizuma's eyes twinkled mischievously. Revenge time! Such an opportunity was impossible to miss. Her horse walked slowly towards the other woman, stopping a few feet away from her.

"Didn't you hear what I just said?" Isis' voice was slightly shaky.

"Oh, I did." He came closer. She smirked.

"Get that thing away from me, Shizuma."

"You don't want that," she replied in her most seductive voice, the smirk widening.

"I do, so plea—" Her sentence was cut by the abrupt move of Emily had somehow hopped on the ground while they were talking and was standing just behind her. The girl wrapped her arms around her waist and raised her towards Shizuma who grabbed and dragged her up on the horse with unknown force. Isis let a stifled cry escape, sitting uncomfortably on the horse who manifested his disagreement to the sudden weight with a loud neigh, going backward.

"Easy," Shizuma cooed for the both of them. She took the reins firmly and repositioned herself, leaving enough room on the saddle for Isis to settle. "Easy," she repeated. Muscles flexing and legs tightening around the saddle as her free hand stroked his neck slowly. "Calm down…"

It had its little effect on the animal that seemed to relax, unlike Isis. The concertmaster was literally shaking in fear. Shizuma felt guilty for five seconds before a victorious grin spread her lips. She met an equally luminous smile coming from Emily before she walked away with Mauro, leaving them alone.

"Isis?"

"What?" She snapped angrily, cocking her head to the side but failing to catch a sight the other's face.

"Breathe."

"I am breathing, moron!"

The desperation in her voice, how she was trying to keep a precarious composure was just too much for the conductor. It made her burst in laughter, shaking against her body. It's only at this moment that they realized their physical proximity. Shizuma's laugh faded and she cleared her throat, trying to regain a bit of seriousness. "You are stiff." Isis' scent was deliciously distracting.

"No kidding," the woman shot back weakly. "I'm on a horse, Shizuma, what do you think?"

She smiled, her free hand travelling slowly from the animal's neck to Isis' left wrist. "I meant that he can feel it. If you calm down, he calms down, if you are angry, he gets stubborn," she guided the hand carefully to his neck. "Pet him," the woman was not aware that she had whispered those words dangerously close to Isis' ear, leaned forward and pressed against her back.

The concertmaster did as told reluctantly. His skin was thick; chances were he was not even feeling her hand. Why did she even bother? The horse lifted his head after a while, looking the other way like he did not care. Figures, she smiled drily. She felt calmer though, which was a good thing. Calm and warm due to the proximity of Shizuma's body against her. It was soft, agreeable, Isis was not going to lie about it.

Maybe a little too pleasant.

The young woman slowly leaned backward against Shizuma who got the hint and straightened, her grip on the reign tightening again. "Are you ready?"

"For what?" Isis felt the conductor's arm sneaking around her waist to secure her position. She tried not to think too much of it.

"We're going."

"What? Wher—ah! Stop!" The horse turned around slowly, on Shizuma's indications. "Stop, stop, stop!" Isis waved her hands frantically, voice quivering. "Please just," her whole body was shaking. She was not feeling so calm anymore.

The other woman did as told, silently. She waited for Isis to regain her cool, keeping the hold she had around her waist. Shizuma felt her taking a long exhale before resting her head on the conductor's shoulder.

"Let me go," she managed after a pause.

Shizuma actually considered the option, feeling suddenly very bad for the woman. She was really scared. Fear in one's tone could rarely, if ever be faked. "No."

Isis tensed. She had begged her. She said please, for God's sake! It was not fair. She was toying with her emotions right now, taking advantage of a moment of weakness. Something even the concertmaster never allowed herself to do when it came to Shizuma. Oh, she could have. She had had plenty of opportunities to do that. But Isis was always so goddamn nice to people. Okay, not nice, no. She just acted a decent human being, not some kind of sadistic bitch that was now breathing in her ear and tickling her.

Isis clenched her jaw and chewed on her inner cheek, ready to just jump off the animal, consequences be damned. If she broke another bone in the process, then she would really destroy the older woman. Crippled or not.

"I've got you," Shizuma's words found their way through the haze of her brain.

The arm wrapped around her waist left its place and the conductor's hand hovered on Isis' own. The death grip she had on the saddle had whitened her knuckles and her body was still slightly shaking. From anger, this time.

"I've got you," she repeated, taking a hold of the hand slowly. "Calm down."

Only then did Isis realize that she had been breathing through gritted teeth the whole time, eyes blinking furiously to fight off the tears. Her heart pounded at her ears as heat slowly invaded her body. Shizuma managed to take the hand in hers and opened it, palms up.

"Close your eyes, Isis."

She was in a complete daze, so much that the actually did as told. The conductor shifted behind her, pressing her body more fully against Isis' back. The woman tried to focus on the contact provided and ignore their surroundings. Horse included. She centered her attention on Shizuma's slow and serene breathing instead. On soothing the heartbeat she swore she could feel on her back. On the softness of that body against her own and the light caress of silver hair on her cheek.

It worked and after two minutes of complete stillness, Isis dared to open her eyes, only to find out that she had done so great at ignoring everything around the both of them that she did not realize that the horse was actually walking around.

She looked perplex at the sight of the reigns in her hand. Shizuma was still keeping a hold of it, fingers loosely intertwined with hers but Isis was the one leading the animal. The conductor's other arm was wrapped around her waist like she had done earlier, to secure her position. They kept relatively silent, taking in their surroundings as they headed to the beach slowly.

"Feeling better?" Oh, the smug smile! She could almost feel it.

"Shut up," the woman grumbled. "I'm mad at you, you know?" Her statement was holding no conviction whatsoever and they both knew it.

Shizuma chuckled lightly. "For helping you overcome your fear?"

"For plotting this whole thing with Emmy. I saw you guys coming," Isis replied. "You are evil." She was still amazed as to how her sister and Shizuma managed to get along so well in so little time.

"To be fair. It was her idea."

-0-

The ride back was mostly silent, the two women enjoying the comfortable quietness of the moment. Well, at least it was the case for Isis. Shizuma was thinking again, rehashing the conversation she had with Emily earlier this week. She had been struggling with herself many times on how to bring up the topic. Opening her mouth once then thinking and closing it before repeating it over and over again.

Now…

The woman breathed.

Now…

Isis felt the hand wrapped around her waist tightening as Shizuma said her name quietly. "What?" The concertmaster was visibly more relaxed than earlier, her voice holding no tremors anymore.

"I…" she swallowed. "Can we… talk?"

Isis remained silent for long minutes, so much that Shizuma thought she had not heard her. It was not the case though, and the woman had heard her perfectly. She had just this wild hope that maybe, the conductor would leave it be. But it was Shizuma, and she would not be herself without her stubbornness and determination. Emily's words rang at her ears again.

"Maybe you should."

The woman had dreaded this discussion. Opening up to someone was not something Isis was used to, always afraid, always questioning, overthinking. She had known Leslie for over four years and never failed to her resolution, no matter how insisting he was at first, how eager he wanted to know about her. Truthfully, the woman had never felt safe enough to talk to him about it. It was not that she did not trust him, no. It just felt wrong. When the conductor had wanted to know about those things, Isis had washed it off, like she did with Leslie. It struck her as to why a woman like Shizuma would be interested in getting to know her when she had made it clear since their first encounter that all that flirtatious talk she was wasting on her had one and only purpose: bed.

And then she stopped trying to seduce her. But she was still asking, still pushing which confused Isis even more. Why? She had wondered on many nights. She did not have anything special, per se. Minus the bat ears and her ability to piss the conductor. And how much could she tell, anyway? How much could she allow Shizuma to know about her? Everything? No. Even she did not know everything, after all. It was all assumptions, made up on sleepless nights, theories that seemed to fit.

Shizuma was going to give up, seeing as how she still had not received an answer after five long minutes and already cursing herself for her cruel lack of tact. Getting what she wanted with others was easy, there was always something. A way with your words, smiles to push someone to trust you. Oddly enough, she seemed to forget all of this once the concertmaster was involved.

"No." Isis finally spoke, startling her in the middle of her thoughts. "Not right now." There was another pause, she was pondering. "After dinner, tonight." Shizuma acquiesced

They did not exchange any more word.

---

The rest of the day was a complete blur for the both of them. They were there, but at the same time, they were not. Closeted into their thoughts and apprehension for the upcoming talk. Hopefully, everybody else did not seem to pay much attention to their behavior as the two women waited for the night to settle, anxious and impatient at the same time.

Shizuma walked behind Isis silently when they exited the house after having cleaned the dishes. Her heart was pounding loudly at her ears for some reason as she observed the woman. Brown locks danced in the wind, giving her a surreal aura. None of them broke the comfortable quietness when they reached the beach. Isis removed her flip flops and let the sand sneak in between her toes, enjoying its coolness on her skin.

The steep lines of a crick shined in the moonlight. Shizuma stopped walking, completely frozen by the scenery. It was beautiful, almost like sacred den, hidden from the non-practiced eyes. It looked like a lighted open cave from the inside, turquoise water doing shadow puppet on the walls and rocks.

"Magnificent…" she whispered, the echo of her voice singing into the cave.

Isis turned around, a small smile on her face as she gazed at Shizuma's amazed expression. "I used to sneak out and come here to swim when I was a kid."

They found a comfortable place to settle, lying on a large lukewarm rock just beneath the stars. The two women remained silent for long minutes looking up at the dark and light dotted immensity of the sky. Shizuma smiled after a while, drawing Isis' attention.

"What is it?"

She breathed, the smile widening. "It's been quite a while since I have last watched the stars with someone," she frowned slightly, trying to recall the last time she did so. "Ten years, actually."

There was another silence. "… Indeed."

"I know," the conductor did not know why, she could not help but keep smiling. Then, it hit her. Are you watching me from up there? "She has always loved stars."

A pause. "Nagisa?"

Shizuma shook her head. "Kaori." Yes, you are.

There it was. The first step, her first step. The outstretched hand. She could not ask if she was not ready to share, right? That was the consensus Shizuma had made with her mind and heart during the day. Thinking that, if she were to talk about her past, to share it with the young woman, then maybe Isis would feel secure enough to do the same. It was a risky bet, but one she had chosen to take nevertheless. She had nothing to lose after all, right? And what did they say already? Trust is the foundation of a healthy friendship. The conductor moistened her lips nervously. So trust me, she prayed silently.

It took a long moment for Isis to dare and speak again. Her mind was boiling, overthinking as always when she did not know what to do. "Who?" It was a whisper.

Good, Shizuma thought to herself. The concertmaster was taking the bait. Maybe this little chit-chat about the past could also benefit for her, after all. "Kaori," she repeated, louder. "Possibly the only person I have ever loved."

She did not know. The bounds between passion and love were still blurry to her. Concepts she could not compare or distinguish, even after all this time. All she knew is that it had been intense the time it lasted. Both of them were too aware of their little time left to spend together to let it go to waste with questions that were irrelevant back then. Would it have lasted if you did not pass away? Would you have stayed with me? Those were the thoughts that plagued Shizuma's mind when the weight of Kaori's absence was unbearable.

"Sounds cute." The conductor watched Isis' smiling profile as the woman was still looking up at the sky. "Not fair for Nagisa, though."

"I know," she shook her head, gazing at the stars again. I thought she was the one. "My relationship with Nagisa was quite chaotic at first." A chuckle rose from her throat as she remembered their very first encounter. "I was still…" her eyebrows knotted in thought. "… Too infuriated with Kaori to be able to think straight."

It was Isis' turn to stare dumbly at her profile. "Maybe you should have tried to get her back instead of seeking someone else? You can talk anyone into doing pretty much everything you want, I know that."

"Not everybody, no." Shizuma gave her a pointed look and the concertmaster just shook her head in dismay. It made her smile. "I know what you are implying." And it was true, most of the time. "But my oratory skills, as good as they might be, were no use."

Isis stared back at her, genuinely confused. The greatest Hanazono turned down by someone who was not her? "Why?" She had to meet this girl, one day. Get her a drink or something.

The conductor broke eye contact and took a long inhale. "Kaori had always had fragile health. She passed away, ten years ago." Eleven next early spring.

Whatever reply the young woman had prepared in her head died instantly at the back of her throat which constricted uncomfortably. Her own memories rushed back in full force and she shut her eyes to make them go away. When she finally looked back at Shizuma again, her face was still as serene as ever. Contrasting with her own turmoil. Isis wondered how the conductor was able to talk about it so freely.

"I am not trying to dwell on you," she spoke again, seeing how the other remained silent. "I have dealt with my grief a while ago." Nagisa being the victim of all this. Not fair, indeed. "I have learned from it. Life still goes on, as painful as it might be at times." A sad smile crossed her lips. "I was not the only one to suffer from her loss."

And yet, Miyuki had been tossed away, completely forgotten in favor of all those girls Shizuma used. She sought comfort and support in their arms, and trampled on their friendship. "But I refused to see it." She looked at Isis again. "And kept sinking into that spiral during two years."

The concertmaster was looking down at her hands. Shizuma noticed her breathing had quickened, like she was trying to calm herself down. Finally, she swallowed and made eye contact again, eyes glowing. "Why are you telling me this?" It was barely audible.

She smiled a bit sheepishly. "It's silly, actually. I simply thought that if you knew more about me, you would allow me to do the same with you," she shook her head at Isis' face, gesturing for her to wait. "But you are smarter than that," the conductor sighed, somewhat in defeat. "I don't know what happened to you," another smile. "I would like to, though. Not to sustain any curiosity of mine."

The young woman made a face, disbelieving her completely.

Shizuma chuckled. "Alright, not only for that. I have the feeling that it could help you too."

Isis was still skeptical, judging from her expression. "Why? I mean, why would you…?"

She gave her another smile, her eyes shining under the stars. "Because I care about you."

There was a pause. "O-okay."

Silence fell upon them. It was not awkward, though. Shizuma felt oddly lighter and Isis was looking into emptiness again, thoughtful. Making her decision, she shifted to a sitting position before turning her head around and pointing at a set of rocks, hidden from the entrance of the cave.

"I lost my virginity over there."

Shizuma burst in laughter, barely maintaining her balance due to the awkward position of her body. She looked at Isis through blurry eyes. "This isn't exactly what I had in mind." Her sides were hurting from giggling.

The woman shrugged, a wide smile on her face. "You're the one who wanted to know more about me." The mirth eventually faded and her expression turned serious. "I appreciate what you are doing," she said, glancing at the conductor. "I really do. I would like to… to be able to talk about it as easily as you," her eyes looked down, as if shameful. "But I'm not you. I still have to work things through," she licked her lips, frowning slightly. "I will… someday. Not today, but one day. I swear, I will."

"And I shall be here when you need me." Shizuma mirrored her position, stroking Isis' wrist with her thumb.

Their eyes met again, shining with hope, holding a silent promise. Isis got up first and helped Shizuma whose index intertwined with the woman's little finger as walked back home in silence.

"So… you really lost your virginity in that cave?"

Isis rolled her eyes and smiled in once.

---

She received another tight hug and a big kiss on her cheek. "Stop that, Emmy."

"What?" Her sister smiled. "I don't know when I'll get to see you again. Stop denying my love, you unworthy sister of mine!" She hugged her again before letting go.

They had been on the threshold of the portal for more than fifteen minutes now, saying their goodbyes. "You can always drop by London. It's not that far, you know."

"Forget it." Emily shook her head. "People driving on the left and thinking that it's totally normal? No thanks."

Isis smirked. "I love you too."

Shizuma was observing the scene from afar, leaned on the car. Mauro was embracing his daughter while talking in her ear. She saw the concertmaster pull back and nod as he kissed her forehead.

Caitlin walked towards her, eyes twinkling. "You aren't going without saying goodbye, are you?"

Shizuma shook her head, a little embarrassed. "I did not want to interfere. Family and all…"

"Child," the woman cut her. "This would not have been possible…" she looked at Sarah whose limbs were tightly wrapped around her aunt. "…Without you," her eyes were shimmering when she glanced back at Shizuma. "I should be thanking you, for bringing her back to us."

The conductor blinked, taken aback. "I didn't—" Caitlin hugged her, silencing the woman's protestation. Shizuma's arms refused to move as she remained frozen in the embrace of a stranger that had given her more attention, and dare she think love, than her own mother in twenty-six years of living.

Caitlin kissed her cheek when she pulled back. "Thank you," a smile broke her lips. "You are part of this family, too."

The meaning and implication behind those words were enough render Shizuma speechless as she gazed at those all too familiar eyes. "I…" she nodded a second later, feeling a warm fuzzy feeling invade her body. "Thank you. It really means a lot."

The rest of the family walked to them, after a moment. Sarah was still curled in Isis' arms and judging by the way she was nudging at her neck, the little girl was not inclined on letting go anytime soon.

Emily came to Shizuma and tapped her shoulder playfully. "Don't be a stranger, okay? I may have to wait another five years to see her pretty face again." Isis shot her a glare at this and she answered in kind before smiling. "But you can come back whenever you want." Caitlin nodded, agreeing with her daughter.

It was Tania's turn to speak as her lips came upward. "I know we did not have the chance to talk much," the scary aura surrounding her had lowered in intensity during the week. "But it was nice to meet you."

The woman mirrored her smile. It was a genuine one. "Likewise."

Everybody quieted down when Mauro stood just in front of the conductor. Still as imposing as ever despite his height. Once again, he stared at her with this trademark blank expression that looked a lot like Isis' own. After another unbearable minute of silence he outstretched his right hand towards her. Shizuma took it. His grip was hard, but not bruising as he shook her hand vigorously. She responded in kind to his utter surprise.

Mauro grinned.

Shizuma dared to smirk back.

It took them another fifteen minutes and a rough horse-trading with Sarah (and the promise of endless treats of chocolate ice cream) to get the girl to untangle herself from Isis. The two women climbed in the car and took the road under the gaze of the others.

The concertmaster was looking out of the window, her occasional sniffs disturbing the comfortable quietness.

"This is not an end." Shizuma spoke softly, her eyes still on the road. "You will come back."

Isis removed her sun glasses and wiped the trail of tears with a tissue before putting them back on. "Yeah," her voice was cracking a little bit. She grabbed the woman's hand on the gearbox and squeezed it, feeling the surprise coursing all over Shizuma at the sudden touch.

"We will."

---

I know you probably hate me right now because you were waiting for a big revelation with the beach scene and got wind instead. I want you to know that I REGRET NOTHING. This is just a transition chapter (with the previous one) to set up the next chapter which will be the last one of the first act of the story.

It will be delayed until July at least because of you know, that awful thing called studies. So be patient, I assure you that it's worth the wait, as they say here, the longer the better. Yes, it has a sexual connotation. No, I'm not ashamed.

Leucistic really exists and has been observed only on animals so far. This is a genetic alteration that doesn't affect physical aspect like albinism does (red eyes), just hairs and skin. Said skin is actually more resistant to the sun

Many thanks to Wicked White Queen, the amazing beta behind all this who's doing an absolutely great job. Go check her stories, guys. Go!

And a special note to Sarah-Andrews and her precious help with Portuguese, thank you again. Yes, because I don't know shit of this language. Or Brazil. So, to those who are still convinced that Isis is an SI and pm me to say so: No. That would imply this fic is a repressed wet dream of mine and that deep inside me, I dream of bedding an anime character. Seriously now.

Critic: You did not offend me at all I will just ask you to point out where in the story you think the canon characters' personalities are butchered, because that's a strong word nonetheless. I try to keep them in character as much as possible because that's how my beta and I work. She doesn't just go after my shameful English, characterization is also important. I would really like to have a more hm… elaborated comment – you can even keep the sarcasm! :) – so I can improve on what bothers you. I had an answer to your review too, but realized it was a bit long and could give away hints about the story to the readers so if you're still interested in hearing it, you can log in and pm me. Which, (as a side note) would have been easier to answer you right away instead of waiting the next chapter that I'm not even sure you will be reading.