20. Eternal:
She never drew hearts for him, only circles, because hearts can be broken while circles can go on forever.
"Mamo-nee? Good, I found you," Suzuna called as she glided into the club house. Mamori paused in her cleaning as the girl approached,
"What do you need Suzuna-chan?"
The cheerleader dropped her bag to the table and began rifling through it for the homework she was going to ask about. As she worked, a breeze from the door caught a stray page. It danced for a moment, then fluttered, unnoticed, to the floor beside her.
Hating to see her nice clean floor covered once again with clutter, Mamori crouched down to retrieve it. The original English notes had been forgotten after a few lines; instead both sides had been covered with doodles of planets, stars, and Devilbats wings. Sena's name came up more than once, and Mamori frowned a bit when she noticed it had been circled each time it was written.
"I've got some math homework tonight that I tried doing at lunch, but I'm stumped, you see," Suzuna spoke into her bag as she continued her search, "I was hoping you could, There it is!" With a tug, she unearthed the page and held it out for the older girl, "Help me figure it out; Please?"
Mamori took her work and smoothed it out on the table, "Of course I'll help Suzuna-chan, but," She held up the stray doodle page, "tell me this first: Why circle Sena's name? Why not hearts instead?" Suzuna blushed, but instead of spending time denying Mamori's implication, she merely looked at her skates and said, "I never draw hearts because hearts can break, but a circle can go on forever. I know it's really middle-school sounding," Suzuna stared up at her, still red-faced, "But that's what I think."
Mamori turned her attentions to the doodle page, cocked her head to the side, and held the scrap paper at arms length, examining it closely. Satisfied with her friend's answer, she looked to Suzuna and smiled, "I like it." She handed the page back, "Circles for Sena. Now, let me see those problems…"
Omake:
The bathroom was still foggy from her bath when at last Mamori was ready for bed. She retrieved her toothbrush from the medicine cabinet and set to brushing, watching her blurry reflection mimic her slow circular strokes. She paused for a moment, chewing thoughtfully on the bristles, as her free hand traced characters across the foggy mirror. Working quickly so her strokes wouldn't run, she circled his name on the glass and giggled, but erased her charm with the corner of her towel, just before she turned off the light.