A/N: It's been difficult for me to write for a while (not saying I need the pogo stick, I know exactly how the story is going to unfold, with some minor revising and interweaving of others' ideas – yes I do borrow from y'all), because I've been in a serious funk. So, I was calling in to work dead, as I have in the past. I even have a speech (yes, I've really used this) prepared: "I'm sorry I can't come in to work today. I'm suffering from a lingering case of rigor mortis, complicated by arrested respiration and circulatory function.
"I believe this malaise is temporary, and, as such, will be back to work either tomorrow or the next day, depending on medical recommendations to the contrary, or accelerated resurrection. Thank you for your time, and attention."
Mostly it was recovering from the emotional tumult the previous chapter left me in. Some of it was lack of motivation to continue (all right, a lot of it was), seeing as my own personal climax (pardon the pun) was achieved, and I've had to stumble around looking for additional inspiration.
To this end, I make a heart-felt appeal to those who, like me, would really like to see this work spin itself motionless, and not rot away into the overbearingly large pile of things I've never completed. Give me your strength, your words of praise and insight. Help me find my drive. Mostly when I write, I do so for the pleasure of the act itself, supported by self-interest, and float on the well-wishes of those who share in the creation. For now, continue to carry me on your shoulders, if you would, and I promise the reward will be worth the effort. Doomo arigatoo gozaimasu.
Felisse: Your suggestions were perfect, your timing superb. I congratulate your patience… you had to endure my anxiety. Luckily, I'm a fair hand at spackling, or the likeness of my head would still be imprinted on your wall. ;)
madlaxx: Wellll… to agree with you in so many words, yes. I've read the coming to terms others created with varying levels of as if!, or rock on! and work from there. ;) Good to know my timing wasn't grotesque! That was my whole reason for writing this after all. laughs I'm deeply in love with all the characters – I'm glad you liked my impersonations.
Kitsuki-chan: I've always assumed the 'money shot' was worthless without a story to support it – the richer, deeper the story, the more affecting the sensationalism became. Awww, kawaii! A fellow puppy. -scritches and lavishes attention; bounds around, tail wagging madly- Good girl! I'll do my very best for you. I promise.
HikkiDesuYo: No nosebleed, but I did have a minor seizure of bliss. I don't believe this supplants Mai HiME, but I do think it's a worthy addendum. We (because I am many in one) love you, too.
shitnat fan: Not the end. Not even the beginning of the end, though it might be the end of the beginning.
Unit 667 Ra: -blushes- I'm dying of praise! I'm not worthy, and yet… it feels so good. Don't stop. About damn time indeed. Reread it as many times as you please; we, the work and I, adore you. -pokes- Write more Beauty and the Beast. -grins- Humor, the ultimate aphrodisiac.
Kinryuu: Your suppositions continue to astound and delight me – ke-rect! Was Artemis her 'real Child'? Hmmm. Smith? An antagonist? -scratches head- Well, sure… he is. Right? Your points about Shizuru not really offering Natsuki a look behind the masks was accurate. Likewise, Natsuki did little to alleviate Shizuru's I am so evil mindset. Fault is too simple – as I've mentioned in other reviews… the brass ring hangs above for the HiMEs to take, and you're left smacking your forehead when they spur the plastic horse out of reach.
The hard part for me is staying within the lines, though I believe I've been doing a decent job of it. I do want to focus on every aspect of this story: romance, drama, adventure. Not late. Never late. We look forward to your critique and synopses. If you ever want to expand your thoughts, feel free. We would look forward to that too.
Krampus: Feel free to point other Shizuru/Natsuki fans in the direction of this work. Complete with 'aoooogah!' sound effects. I'm fond of your kudos. I love it when a co-dependant plan comes together.
Johnny: I'm glad it excites you! Captivation is my goal – awe, wonderment are a really nice bonus. I, too, believe reading is an art form. Imagination takes many forms. By your command, I give you MORE!
Jen-chan: Sledgehammers are bound to leave you dazed and confused – that's the perfect state of mind to read in. Nao has some growing to do of her own – and I'm sure the pain will be… intoxicating. You're the first to mention how knowing Shizuru's internal world affected your previous reading – I like that. That's the way it's supposed to be. I cannot guarantee the darkness is fading into the dawn. But, I'll try to make it as palatable as the rest. Scream at the monitor! If I listen very closely, I can almost catch the words… A shivering ball. -hugs self- So blissful.
Shigan: I leave whether or not she finally got to pee to the individual. -laughs- It was a powerful chapter – left me impotent. coughs I know we, well, most of us, have different categories for love, affection, lust, sex, attraction. For me, the gestalt, the communion of mind, body and spirit, is perfection. Mmmm… I'm sure their relationship will need a bit more pruning. Yes! Smith was on a first name basis with Natsuki's mother. Ennnteresting, nee?
Alida: Ahh, purrr-haps you should have expected this.
b14ck-r053: That is a very good question indeed. Were there different players? As always, thank you thank you for your corrections! -swoons- You are my hero/ine. Most are annoyed by my attention to detail. -laughs- Shizuru should teach Natsuki how to make tea. I wonder if she can get Natsuki to stop tinkering with her bike long enough to learn… As for lack of thought, that was totally how I react the first time I figure out I'm attracted. In Entropy-ese, I call this, being beaten with a Nerf bat o'love. I figured Natsuki would ask why Shizuru molested her. I appreciate every word of your reviews – I am honored that you have so much to say.
kikyo4ever: Nao has Shizuru in ways she doesn't yet realize. I'm glad you're continuing to enjoy!
Silent Ee: Have I ever mentioned how nice it is to bask in your praise? Please… allow me to reinforce – I was so very tired, and you're like a warm binkee, fresh from the dryer. If you have the time, I'd really like to hear how you imagined it would be. I, too, am a fount of useless knowledge, not so intricate as your own. Your warning of the corners was accurate. -hugs- I don't need the pogo stick just yet. But I could sure use a cup of hot chocolate and warm-weather discourse. Smith can't help pulling strings – he's a cat. 'The course of true love', 'all's fair', 'how many licks does it take to get to the center of a Tootsie Pop? The world may never know.'
Sumiregawa Nenene: "Eat more chiken!" -smiles- Yum.
Interstate 405: I hold all those who captivate me in high regard. I hope this makes your day as well. -grins- I know. I'm a hedonist.
EA Simpson: -laughs- I agree with Silent – EA, you're amazing. I love your sense of humor. Yes. A day and a night passed between the kiss (in the evening) and the reconciliation (the second evening). I'd like to mention again how much I enjoy your Ruins fiction. So engaging. So addictive.
Kiltmandu: I can't wait to see what Nao does either. ;) Thank you again for your emotional sounding – I couldn't do this without you.
ThunderHeart: So glad you found it and liked! I hope to keep your interest.
Kieli: Nao is a very complex character – in the anime, in my mind. She's still growing, becoming, changing into what she will be. Like a chrysalis. In the series, Smith was an ambiguous character, one that I saw great potential in. My version is, perhaps, a bit more cunning – but he wasn't in charge of Searrs. And he isn't perfect. Alyssa is, and always will be, the chink in his armor. I'm sure Alyssa did know a great deal more than Glear suspected – however, her father supplied her with the outline in which she colored. Being without that guidance is bound to have some effect. -hugs- I appreciate your continued interest. I remain one of your biggest fans.
XSojix: I agree. Finally! I wonder what Nao will do?
VT: Thank you! -performs CPR-
Hellwolf: Not a jerk! I'm glad you took the time to review. I do put a lot of effort, and myself, into those things I write. The dark is always better for someone to share it with. I'm going to make myself finish if it kills me.
jordan.D: It was very sweet. I loved it.
Mad (semi)Literate Troubador: "(i do not know what it is about you that closes and opens; only something in me understands the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses) nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands" Mmmm… stunning. Completely edible acclaim. Thank you, fellow minstrel. I will happily dance, if you pipe.
In this chapter, we find out what Midori and Nao have been doing, why I have yet to bring Fumi into the fray, and sate the curiosity (my own, if no one else's) of what would happen when the counter clicks over to 0.
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Chapter 14Midori ducked behind one of the stately trees surrounding the mansion. She'd asked around the campus trying to determine the Director's whereabouts, and the students had confirmed Fumi was away on business, which was annoying. No one else who could answer the pressing questions: why the Carnival hadn't ended as they'd all assumed, what had started the clock moving again? Did the hand moving signify the return of Queen of Hell? If the red star didn't hold the key to ending cursed fate, what was its purpose?
Her shin scraped against the undergrowth, and she bent over to rub her ankle. Owie. At least the Director's absence left her the opportunity to sneak into the familiar building and see what she could dig up. Slipping around the side, she peeked into one of the windows; the curtains hadn't been drawn. She pressed her palms against the glass, putting her body weight into the effort of gaining entrance, but the clasp stubbornly refused to snap, and she grunted, moving to the next window.
Leaves fell into her field of vision. She backpedaled in surprise, gasping as a lithe figure dressed in black lowered itself in front of her, curiously suspended upside down. A pair of burgundy eyes considered her, dark bangs tickling her fingers as the figure swayed, disengaged itself from the branch it had been hanging from and landed in front of her soundlessly. The figure brushed itself off, rising to its full height, still quite a bit shorter than the flame haired woman, and she realized who this was.
"Okuzaki-kun!" She laughed nervously, scratching the back of her head.
"Sugiura-sensei." Akira glanced from Midori to the window and back again. "You were trying to get in?"
"Ahhh, well you see, I was looking for the Director…"
"Himeno-sama isn't here. She isn't due back for another week."
"Ahh, is that so?" Midori blanched, trying to come up with some excuse that wouldn't involve campus security.
"They're all going to be locked. No one leaves first story windows open, unless they're careless. If you want to get into a locked building, start at the top and work your way down." The ninj-ette gave her a once over, showing how much she found to be desired by her mildly disgusted silence, and Midori looked down at herself – blue overalls, red high-top sneakers without socks – not really caring for the dismissive appraisal.
"What?"
Okuzaki sighed. "You're looking for information about the Carnival?" Midori debated whether or not it was a good idea to be so blatant about her agenda, was, in fact, still mulling over the necessity of omission when the black-clad figure leapt upward in an astounding display of gymnastic finesse.
"Wait here," the disembodied voice cautioned and the former teacher blinked, losing sight of the diminutive girl as she vaulted up to a third story landing. It was all so surreal, Midori wondered if she'd eaten a bit too much, fallen asleep under one of the giant maples dotting the campus, and would awaken later to find her pockets had been rifled through by the dregs of human society. Not that they'd find much – how much does a bus pass go for on the black market these days? Dregs might be a bit harsh too – seeing as both Fuuka Academy and University were private learning institutions, Midori wasn't sure what percentage of the attending populace could accurately be deemed a 'dreg'.
Occupied with these introspections, the window in front of her opening inward, under the direction of the black clad figure's fingers, came as a mild shock, and she stared into the shadowed burgundy depths for several more heartbeats before climbing in to join the stealthy HiME. Midori came to the conclusion that two minds were better than one, and since Okuzaki had already offered her help, she couldn't afford to cast it aside.
"The clock – "
"Is still moving. I know. I've been following you around the campus. The hands moved again after you left."
Damn. "Did you want to take a look around inside? Maybe we can find something."
The ninj-ette shook her head. "No. I've got to take care of Takumi before I get any deeper into this mess. But… if you find what you're looking for, tell us. Tell all of us, Sensei. I have a feeling that fate getting impatient." The lower half of Akira's face was obscured behind cloth, but Midori was sure the younger girl was smiling. "Better to work together, isn't that what you said?"
The black clad figure jerked her chin towards the interior of the room. "The best hiding places are in plain sight."
Just like that, Akira slipped away, having moved too quickly for Midori, who was dutifully searching for obvious hiding places, to notice. "Wait! Damn." She leaned out the window, hoping her fellow HiME was within hearing distance. "Thanks. Take good care of Takumi-kun."
She sighed, eyeing the nearly endless rows of books, the pictures, the tables set into recessed nooks in the walls. It was going to be a long, long night.
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Natsuki spent a good five minutes stretching before she decided to open her eyes. The room was immersed in blue-gray light, and she automatically glanced at the clock to see what time it was. After ten in the morning, long past dawn, and well before dusk. Must be overcast outside. Rainy days were sleepy days, and it wasn't as if she had anything better to do than roll around and enjoy Shizuru's fine linen – she was halfway into a sitting position before it occurred to her she wasn't wearing anything, and another second or so before she noticed the sandy-haired woman lying across the foot of the bed, watching her. It was just creepy the way Shizuru could completely mask her presence.
The sheet reached her navel, and she uttered a sound very much like a muffled squeak, grabbing the covering and reclining with such liveliness the entire bed vibrated with the motion. "O-oi, what are you doing?"
Unperturbed by her likewise unadorned state naked, she's naked too, the older girl blinked at her solemnly. "I was watching Natsuki sleep." It was phrased so matter-of-factly she couldn't really find anything to argue with, though mild disquiet rose with the words.
"Ano… watching?" As in, passively, right? A small, undecipherable smile turned up the corner of Shizuru's mouth, and Natsuki leaned back further into the blankets – she wasn't positive, but she thought this one might be the harbinger of anger. It was impossible for her to read through the older girl's poker face, but she tried to soften the sting of her words by releasing her death-grip on the bedclothes.
"Was Natsuki hoping for me to do more than watch?" The tone was soft and teasing, and the younger girl blushed profusely, wondering if she'd completely misunderstood the nuance. Maybe she's always had that pissed look in her eyes before she ribs me.
"No! No," the dark haired girl assured hastily. "I was just noticing that we're both…"
"Naked," her companion supplied helpfully.
Natsuki scowled, letting irritation displace her embarrassment. "Yes." Silence descended between them, leaving Natsuki feeling isolated in her discomfort – the Kyoto born woman seemed perfectly content to remain as she was, half-curled in feline relaxation as she regarded Natsuki with lazy, unblinking prerogative. She realized she was staring, that in fact, her glance had wandered away from the other girl's face, following the curve of the back.
The muscles coiled as the older girl shifted, and Natsuki's eyes widened, pushing herself back into the pillows as the woman crept slinked closer. She held her breath as Shizuru hovered over her, not meeting her glance until their lips were almost touching. The raven haired girl's pulse raced in anticipation, drumming against the inside of her ears, but her lover remained stationary, neither advancing nor retreating. Natsuki struggled with her own impulses for a few seconds before she succumbed.
Shizuru brushed her lips over Natsuki's softly, whispering, "Good morning," and then she was gone, leaving the younger girl baffled as she lifted her fingers to her mouth, watching the tawny-haired woman rise and move across the room to the dresser. Shizuru opened the drawer, drew out a pair of panties, returning Natsuki's scrutiny as she watched them in the mirror.
"Such a sad expression. Does Natsuki wish to dress me?"
The younger girl groaned, pulled the pillow over her face to muffle the profanity she's doing this on purpose, refusing to dignify the question with an intelligible response.
Shizuru laughed softly, waiting until the sounds had tapered off before trying to coax the hermit from her hibernation. "Natsuki… come help me."
"No."
"Why?"
Because I want to. "Because you don't need any help, dammit."
"I didn't say I needed assistance. I asked because I enjoy having Natsuki near." Natsuki ground her teeth. Shizuru was using the wounded tone, as if she'd deliberately misconstrued the intent out of some incomprehensible obstinacy. Sighing in defeat, she wrapped the sheet around herself as she joined the sandy-haired woman, feeling awkward and amorous, and not knowing what to do with either emotion.
"Will you at least put some clothes on?" Shizuru didn't answer, merely pulled Natsuki's arms around her waist, resting her hands over the younger girl's as she stepped backwards into the embrace.
Gah! She's so infuriating. It really did feel wonderful; ever so slowly, the tension melted away, and Natsuki lifted on her toes just enough to rest her chin on the woman's shoulder. Her eyelids drooped; she was still very tired, and somewhat aroused – the two merged into a sort of drowsy trance. She drifted, completely unaware of anything but the warmth of the woman in her arms, the expansion of the chest as Shizuru breathed, the arch of the other girl's back as she hunched down to match their heights as much as possible.
"Did Natsuki find what she was looking for?"
"Hmm? Oh, right. At my apartment. Yeah, I guess I did."
"Mmm." Shizuru quietly studied their reflections, allowing her beloved the space she needed, if she felt so inclined to share her discoveries. She wasn't perturbed by Natsuki's lack of communication – when she was ready, she'd talk about it. The arms around her waist tightened, almost painfully, and she wondered what thoughts were passing through her companion's mind – the younger girl's expression conveyed anxiety, but gave little clue as to its cause.
"Shizuru… what we did, that's… that's what you wanted, right?" Natsuki's eyebrows lowered as she blindly searched for the words she wanted to say. "No, I mean, that's what you wanted us to do – the kind of relationship … ah… love you wanted?"
"Yes. I've always hoped someday Natsuki would return my affections. That she would want to share her life and love and bed with me." An aggressive blush stained the younger girl's cheeks as she lowered her eyes, frowning. "Is Natsuki afraid I only wanted her for her body," Shizuru asked softly, smiling a bit as the other girl buried her face in Shizuru's hair. "I want to be with Natsuki forever."
Natsuki lifted her head, staring at the taller girl fiercely. "Yes. That's what I want – for you to stay with me forever. So…" since we have the same kind of love, "you have no reason to kill yourself."
"As long as Natsuki is with me – "
"No! That's not good enough. I'm not going to leave you, Shizuru. I never was going to leave you. I always came back, didn't I? Sometimes I just need space." The raven-haired woman took a deep breath. "Just… don't do it. Or I won't forgive you." Because… if anything happens to you, I don't want to go on either. She met the cinnamon shaded eyes, putting the strength of her emotion into the appeal. "Never again." Please.
"Never again, Natsuki." Shizuru dropped the underwear she'd been holding, turning in Natsuki's arms, and loosened the sheet draped around the shorter girl. Looping the ebony tresses slackly between her fingers, she watched the younger girl's upturned face, enjoying the silky texture passing over her palms. She pulled herself closer by this ephemeral mooring, basking in the scent of dusty, rain dampened earth and unconscious longing; she held it within her lungs, as if she could merge with her love in mingled breath, cease to be what she was to become what they were, entwined. Something in place of nothing.
Natsuki swallowed, trembling, trying to drag her eyes away from the meekly insistent fervor in her partner's stare. She tried to speak, but nothing approaching language emerged. She bit her tongue, trying to focus beyond the thrill of Shizuru bearing mute witness to her failed attempts. The older girl enjoyed this vie for dominance: stricture over abandon, distance over lust, affection over fearful distain – Natsuki could smell it, taste it, sense it from the movement of her limbs – and knowing made the battle that much more desperate. She retreated a step, two steps, and Shizuru followed, one for each of her two, tugged along by the hold on her hair. The bed blocked further retreat.
"Shizuru?" The question was timid, and she gathered her thoughts from their imagined union of respiration, wondering what she'd done to evoke fear. Did I hurt her again? I can't remember.
"Yes, Natsuki?" Like warm water and velvet, Shizuru's words caressed her, proved an intimate working knowledge of her body as they coiled through her midsection, settled in the back of her throat, making it difficult to breathe.
"Nothing – it's nothing." The younger girl lifted her arms, draping them across her shoulders, and she smiled. Yes, nothing. She pulled Natsuki closer as they kissed, falling on top of her beloved in a gentle heap as they overbalanced, landing them on the bed.
"Shizuru! Don't… what…" Her voice failed her as her companion's affections stepped over the boundary separating nebulous from directed – she groaned, grabbing the pillow and crushing it in her fists. The remainder of her questions, her reservations, gathered themselves into one thought why?, repeating endlessly as she arched and writhed. She couldn't explain how this simple phrase purified and concentrated her apprehensions, what meaning or significance it might have, but it intruded itself into every gasp and cry, every embarrassingly sensual response she had to Shizuru's ministrations.
The younger girl whimpered as the maddening heat stole the last of her cognitive abilities, her lips forming the word on their own, given voice by the moan tickling from her lungs. "Why?"
The response was almost too soft to hear. "I love Natsuki – I will do anything she asks, give Natsuki everything she needs." Whether or not Natsuki can bring herself to speak.
And this was so, she realized, just as she would do the same. What the hell. Natsuki took the reins from outstretched hands, rolled on top of Shizuru, fulfilling both their desires.
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Nao scuffed her sneakers through the pebbles lining the parking lot as she left the tiny store behind. The heated can of coffee in her hands chased away the chill. She glanced up at the sky accusingly, as if there were someone present, someone within reach she could accost with her venomous contempt. She hated the rain, she hated being cold, she hated having nowhere to go. Most of all, she hated knowing nothing was ever going to change – that the positive words everyone kept shoveling on her were delusional bullshit. The more things change, the more they stay the same. Amen.
A soft sound of mockery passed her lips. Sister. Sister was the last one that had attempted to move the mountain, plant a field of mustard seeds in the briar patch of her soul, console her. Whatever. She'd given lip service to the acts of forgiveness, even played dress up with Miyu for all of three days, wanting to see how far she could lead Sister's flock astray before she was kicked out. That had probably been a waste of time – the Catholic's God was a jealous god, a cunning little bastard. He had a way of testing people's faith, and conning them back for more. I wonder if that makes me like one of Job's afflictions. She smirked, pleased with the idea.
And Yukariko hadn't been the only one, of course. There was the psychotic, fashion challenged, sentai freak of nature. I'll bet that woman was God's way of getting back at me. Even so, as annoying as she'd been, as pure, dumb-blind and outrageously stubborn as she was, Nao had admired Midori. Lifting the coffee, she tried to swallow without burning the crap out of her mouth, frowning as she tried to remember the last bit of advice the spandex-worshiping Ranger-ette had whispered to her from infirmary bed. 'Those that reject love are often the ones who benefit most from continued applications,' or something like that.
She wondered why she would think of Midori now – like there was some cosmic connection between being dumped and helpless and slinking to her fellow redhead for company.
Nao had gone to visit Midori while they were both still trying to figure out what had run over their lives, after they'd both lost their various pissing contests to higher higher order matter materializers. I still can't believe Mikoto thrashed her – half Midori's size and intellectually challenged. "Huh." Not like I have much to say in my own defense either, since Mount Fujino kicked me to the curb. Think I still have her boot-mark on my ass as a souvenir.
They hadn't really commiserated, Nao wasn't open to that experience, but they'd talked to each other, Midori listening as the younger girl imparted her observations about the Festival. And Nao listened while Midori haltingly explained why these things were happening – what the likely outcome would be – how she'd failed to throw a wrench in the cogs. Her most precious person wasn't the only thing their self-proclaimed leader had lost – she'd also lost the light, the force of energetic rectitude shielding her from the wages of war. Even staggering under her own woes, Nao had felt a keener sense of injustice on Midori's behalf. Gidget goes to hell.
So she'd stayed at their leader's side, curbing her natural distaste for wounded animals, watched the older woman struggle with her grief, the realization that each of them was alone in their defeat because… there was nothing left to cling to, not even the tattered scraps of what their lives had been before the Carnival swept them away. Nao wanted to call that emotion, that disconcerted sensation below her ribcage, pity, but it wasn't. It was compassion, something she hadn't felt in a long, long time. Her hands lifted as she watched Midori struggle to halt the useless tears, laying one hand palm to palm with the teacher's, and draping the other casually over their enjoined fingers.
And thus they'd stayed, a single, flickering flame of jade, quietly staring into twin peridot pools, each shying from their own misery in lieu of basking in the other's. Nao had marveled at her actions at the time – the empty eye-socket yawned with a smoldering, itching ache, her ribs were still bruised from being thrown off Julia, she felt claustrophobic, feverishly directionless without the ability to summon her Element, she had nothing left to live for, was the butt of everyone's jokes, and contempt. Unfortunate little Nao, got lost along the way to vengeance. Didn't stand a chance, poor thing. But all of that faded away when she saw how much more what Midori had lost, and the ex-teacher was either smart enough, or too far-gone to harangue her with stupid, painful words, like asking if she was ok.
The good guys just didn't get it. Life kicks you in the face, and if you don't have the common sense to take your beating and stay down, it kicks you again. This will continue until you're dead unlucky, have swallowed most of your teeth lucky, or you gain the strength to wipe the blood off your face and kick back. Nao didn't bother any more. She ignored life completely, got her kicks in while it was busy burning ants off someone else's anthill. Yet this very lack, the inability to comprehend the nature of the world around them, how disgusting and conceited and malicious people were, made them heroic. In Midori's company, Nao had felt the breath of stirred echoes – the distant memory of hope.
Midori was broken; what had made her special was gone. It filled Nao with a seething fury, that circumstance wasn't content to just knock the shit out of the victims, and when Mai the one person I despise more than Kuga had walked in, wrapped in her aura of goody goody angst maiden, Nao had curled her lip in a sneer, dropping their leader's hand as she stalked from the room before princess martyr could hurt her again. She'd known Mai was going to ask how she was doing, if there was anything she could do to make up for… No, she didn't want to hear it, so she'd fled, snarling, intent on finding some small piece of the world she could wound on Midori's behalf.
When she'd seen the bullies harassing a mother and her child, her anger had overflowed, needing to prove to herself that she could make a difference, and she'd curled her fists, shouting at them to leave them her alone. They'd shifted their attention, letting their previous playthings depart unmolested. How stupid was I, rushing in like that, letting myself be cornered in the back of the alley. She hadn't been the champion of justice, she'd been a chump, barely able to hold her own as they swarmed around her like roaches.
Nao grunted, dragging her thoughts away from the past, continuing to shuffle her feet methodically, forward, ever forward. Like there is anything to go to. She frowned, ran trembling finger through her hair, let her eyes drop, watching her feet as her fingers fiddled with the tab on the coffee can. She nibbled on her lip as she considered the facts: she was in love with a woman she both feared and respected. She knew this woman was tail over ears in love with someone else.
Nao wanted to be furious, to mar Fujino for her idiotic devotion to Kuga, for not being able to see… other opportunities. Nao was lonely and didn't have a place to stay, and some part of her, before she'd gone and slipped her tongue into the devil's mouth, had hoped for a renewed invitation to stay at the dorms, assistance in recompense for her tending of the wounded. Not fucking likely. Still, Shizuru had made such overtures before…
No, goddamnit. I'm not going to go crawling back to her and beg. Would Fujino require such obsequious contrition? The frown deepened, and she pressed the back of her wrist to her forehead, fingers flexing spastically. Sometimes she does. Sometimes she turns on me when I displease her, and the chill leaves me shivering for hours. But wasn't that only when Nao baited her? Maybe. I can't remember. She wavered, undecided. No, better to stay away. Kuga was shacking with Shizuru, and even the heady appeal of inflicting coyly modulated, guilt-ridden stabs at the raven-haired girl's fragile psyche couldn't overshadow the nausea at the thought of sharing a residence with the bane of her existence.
So. Where to now? The redhead sighed, crushing the empty can in her hand and tossing it in a dumpster as she meandered through the deserted alley. I have abso-fucking-lutely no idea. She could go back to the house she and her mother shared, but that would remind her of two things she didn't want to think about – Fujino and her mother.
The thin drizzle which had, until this moment, merely hinted at the coming deluge, lost its patience. She was soaked in seconds, stumbled over the garbage strewn between the buildings. "Great. This was just what I needed. Fucking hate the rain."
An idea she hadn't entertained suddenly sprang to life, stopping her in her tracks. I could join District. Tate all but laid out a red carpet for me. "Huh." It was an option. A place to stay, someone to support her whose pants I'm not trying to get into, a chance to get even with the other HiMEs when the big duke-out arrived. Better to reign in hell than serve in heaven. Her lip twitched in distaste. Fujino would despise her, then again, so would Kuga, and that almost balanced out. District might let her stay with her mother, wherever she was – they could be a family again. On the off chance she didn't feel like doing Tate's bidding, it would be easier to escape with her mother once she'd been welcomed into their midst.
'What if another Searrs-like group appears? Can you take them on alone?' "Be quiet, I know what I'm doing." Nao stuffed her hands in her pockets, huddling as far out of the downpour as she could as she dug around in her pockets for her cell phone. She typed out a quick text message to one of her acquaintances, waited impatiently for the reply.
Thirty minutes later she had the information she'd requested Tate Yuuchi, classified contact information as follows, and she tried to call him, but there wasn't an answer. Leaving him a voice mail was risky, but all her phones were registered under other people's names: she didn't so much have wireless service as rely on the kindness of strangers. She slipped the phone back into her pocket, debating whether or not she should follow through. Nao hadn't really given Fujino the chance to accept or deny her affection – they did have some kind of bond with one another, and Nao was a creature of predictable eccentricities, serving whatever served her best.
The redhead would follow the person offering the greater advantage, but she'd lose nothing by keeping her options open. Feeling better than she had since this whole mess started, Nao spun in the direction of the campus, ignoring the ceaseless rain.
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Dampened sunlight slanted into her face and she stretched, dislodging several of the books covering her. She sat up, scattering the piles surrounding her further, scratched her stomach, rubbed her cheeks briskly to wake herself up.
She'd searched every place she could think of last night, and gotten distracted at some point by the extensive libraries – there were at least nine rooms stocked from floor to ceiling with bookcases. Many of the titles were familiar, but some were so obscure she'd only heard them whispered by others in her profession – beautiful, leather bound tomes of rare knowledge, gold-edged pages winking at her in invitation, and she'd wined and dined them, ravishing them as they unfolded before her.
Midori pulled out her cell phone, checking to see how long she'd slept, and leapt to her feet, wide-eyed and apprehensive. "Eight already? Stupid stupid! I'm so stupid!" She'd done it again, abandoned her mission in lieu of the siren's tangent. "Damn." I really need to learn to focus, grow up a little. She decided that she would do just that, put all of her depthless enthusiasm behind this cause, stood for several moments in a determined pose of resolution. And then she realized this was just as much of a distraction from her goal as pulling the books from the shelves had been. I have to stop introspecting about my personal failings.
She supposed she could continue looking for clues, but honestly, she'd already ransacked each room to the best of her abilities, finally winding up in the study, where she'd collapsed amid the tomes. Sighing, she gave the room another once over, only half paying attention, in hopes of spotting something she'd missed – her feet carried her over to the desk, uninterestedly scanning over the scattered papers. Expense accounts, scholarship applicants, neatly constructed in Fujino's unmistakable penmanship. Scary how much Fuuka Gakuen relies on the Council President. I wonder what she's up to nowadays. Obviously, still in charge of running things behind the scenes, assisting the university. And her position hadn't changed – Fujino was the first freshman Council President in the history of Fuuka University. Driven. Very driven.
Midori had tried to get to know all of the HiMEs, of course, but Fujino had been a surprise from out of left field. A born diplomat with political influence, both inside and outside the Academy walls, raised in the traditional ways, to be a high-born lady of Kyoto. Master of the tea ceremony, flower arranging, ballet, calligraphy, cooking, watercolor painting, haiku. Charismatic, soft spoken, intelligent, excellent organizational skills. Perfect. They had nothing in common except Kuga and that was a tenuous connection at best – even after the Carnival, Fujino had been unerringly refined, accommodating, and as untouchable as clouds, hoarding the crescent moon. Perfection always comes with a price.
Pushing aside the papers, she lowered herself into the high backed chair in defeat. "I just can't find anything." 'The best hiding places are in plain sight.' Easy for you to say, ninja-wanna-be chick. Was there someplace she hadn't looked? She tilted her head studying the desk. She'd snapped the locks on the drawers, rifled through the contents. All but one: the pencil drawer, rollout keyboard shelf thingy; she found what the expected to find – a computer keyboard. What she hadn't expected to find was a notebook, propping up the back of said terminal. A dusty, faded notebook with the kanji for Fuka emblazoned across the front.