Two Little Girls
Part III
A Shoujo Kakumei Utena fanfic.
Written by Juri-chan (aka cigam - cigam@cigamerisedi.com)
Disclaimer : Characters & story - BePapas and Saito. Lyrics - Ani DiFranco.
Summary : Alone again, Juri faces life in the big city without Shiori and runs into an old friend who has news from the school that once trapped them both.
Author's Note : This was one of my favorite chapters to write. I really like the character I got to introduce into the plot so that made it fun. Anyway, this is still one of the old chapters! I sure did write quite a bit and let it just rot. I hope there's still breath in these words to continue to an end. Let me know what you think!
----------
Life without Takatsuki Shiori was numbing. In the beginning I did not cry. It wasn't that I refused to or anything. I simply couldn't. I hadn't truly accepted it all, yet. I'm sure I was in a state of shock. A call would be for her and I would say she wasn't in and for the caller to try again.. instinctively.. before even remembering her absence. Her mail began to pile on the table next to her side of the bed - the left side. And I never took the entire surface of the mattress, or all of the covers. That area seemed too cold to touch.
What caused my breakdown was when I found my locket. No, not my first shattered locket. But another one, identical to it, with the golden blooming petals stiff and firm and shining new. It was in a thin black velvet box with a simple black bow tied around it. She'd left two weeks before my birthday, I found it in the bottom drawer of her dresser while looking for candles a week after. I was 20 and sobbing like I was 5. The picture she'd placed inside of it was the one I took of her one afternoon in Central Park by a large, blossoming tree. She was looking straight at me. Smiling at me, laughing at me and a moment we shared. She wasn't looking away anymore.
And now she was gone. It was hard to accept, which is why I began wearing the locket. The heavy gold chain weighed heavy on my neck and my conscience. I missed her, and I was reminded of it every second of every day. At work they never complained about my new found apathy. Reviewers called my recent look in my modeling photos sensual and full of an honest grit. They were blind. They didn't see the pain hidden behind my stoic stares. They were just like my classmates from Ootori. I felt like I was reliving the life I led there so many years ago and I simply let it happen.
The less I had to do, the better. I never attended parties anymore, unless my manager insisted for the sake of my image. Even then, while I was there I only spoke to those people I was obligated to speak to. Otherwise I sat at home and read if I could. Sometimes I found it hard to concentrate. Even after a month, the place still smelled of her. I kept wondering where she was. What she was doing, who she was with. Did she make it to Ootori? Could you actually just walk back in? Had it changed? Will she change? I could not answer these questions, so they kept invading my thoughts. I also became somewhat of an insomniac - which the agency did have a problem with. I began to look weak I suppose. There was so little to work for anymore, and it started to show.
The holiday season was a long, torturous ordeal. Families and couples were around every corner, with excited smiles and bulging bags full of gifts. I realized with a deep sinking feeling that I had no one to buy for and nothing to look forward to. The holidays are so empty when there's no one to spend them with. The presents become shallow, the carols become tuneless, and every wide-eyed child appears soulless to a cynic at Christmas. I don't remember there ever being a Christmas at Ootori, really. Once I began attending school there the passage of time seemed non-existent. I wanted to be there again, so I wouldn't be the only one living in a world where such things never mattered.
When Christmas morning arrived I woke up as a normally did. I made a cup of coffee (with a shot of amaretto). I ate a bagel with marmalade and cream cheese. I checked my messages. I read the paper. Everything occurred as usual. As dull, and empty as usual. Yet, around noon I was suddenly overcome with a craving for shaved ice. I know it makes no logical sense. Who in the Hell wants shaved ice on Christmas morning in the middle of New York City? But I wanted it so I went out to find it. What else did I have to do?
I slipped out of my apartment building, bundled in my large black winter coat, to meet the freezing winter day. I walked down my block, and through the next, trying to keep as far from the sounds of the Macy's day parade as possible. The longer I walked, though, the more I realized no vendor in his right mind would stray from the festivities if he planned to make any money. Hell, any vendor in his right mind wouldn't be selling shaved ice. Right as I thought this I caught a familiar scent in the air. Sweet.. almost too sweet.. like roses and warm bath water. And sunlight. I followed the scent into a small shop, noticing as I wandered in that the sign offered ice cream and Italian ice. A small figure stood by the bar; strands of blue hair peeking from their jacket hood.
"I'll have an Italian ice, please.. blueberry."
-----
You were always half crazy, Now look at you baby
You make about as much sense as a nursery rhyme
Love is a piano, dropped from a four-story window
And you were in the wrong place, at the wrong time
Verse III : Blue Ice
-----
"Juri-sempai!"
He spoke first, as was custom. His azure eyes were just as I remembered them and seeing them brighten at the sight of me stirred an old, odd feeling. I felt contented and comfortable in his presence, even after all this time.
"Miki-kun.."
He came forward, his dessert paid for and in hand, shock still playing across his rosy cheeks, "What a surprise, sempai! Imagine finding you here."
"I sent you letters, Miki-kun. I've lived here for two years, now."
His smile slackened a bit as he pushed his jacket hood back, revealing longer, lighter blue hair than I remembered, "Oh? I never got any.."
And we both knew why.
He perked his smile up again, brushing the thought away and the memories it brought with it. "Well, at least I've found you, now."
I blinked, unable to fully comprehend what he was saying. Had he been searching for me? All this time? "Had you been looking?", I questioned.
Being the honest soul he was, he logically shook his head faintly, "I'm sorry.. I hadn't. I had no clue where to start, sempai."
That made more sense. I felt balanced again as I nodded.. but followed with an inquiry, "Then what are you doing here?"
"I'm actually.. I'm looking for my sister."
Kozue.
I took Miki to a local bowling alley and between strikes he explained to me everything that had happened at Ootori since Shiori had left, since she'd informed me of that much. Akio no longer made any public appearances after his fiancée, Kanae, took her own life. In fact, many people thought he committed suicide as well, in misery of his loss. But we seitokai know much better. As soon as Miki told me of the woman's death I suspected Akio as the cause. Besides, even if she had killed herself, he would never take his precious life in the name of her worthless existence. Touga took over for the most part, but even he began to look like the living dead.
Miki once spoke to him, but Kiryuu-san seemed like a puppet with fading strings. Yet the strings had been in place for so long, Miki doubted Touga would even know what to do if they ever finally broke. I pitied the martyr seitokaichou. He was essentially sacrificing himself for the greater good of Ootori. Only he could charm Akio into thinking he was still brilliant and omnipotent. With Touga distracting the Dean the students were able to leave with little interference. Though, really, what could Akio do now? My honest belief is that Touga felt he had no where else to go. Might as well spend the rest of his days doing something familiar. Playing the game would be less painful than living in a world where Utena was, because he could not have her. She had refused him and staying in Ootori was his way of asserting his last shred of free will; his personal suicide.
When Miki revealed the disappearance of his sister, I struck my first gutter ball of all-time and slumped into the seat in front of the score monitor. 'KM' and 'AJ' seemed too bright, stark white letters on the blue screen, as I stared at our scores. I was kicking Miki's ass, but I found no comfort in it. Kozue was with Shiori.
"When Takatsuki-san returned to Ootori it was all anyone ever talked about for weeks. Apparently she's the only one to successfully return. I believe Akio-san had something to do with it, you shouldn't just be able to walk back into school like that."
He was right, Saionji had to strike up a contract in order to return from simple expulsion. I wondered what Shiori had to do to come back from reality.. no, I didn't want to know. Slowly my bowling shoes seemed to pinch my toes and the loud crash of pins echoed in my ears. Miki's gentle voice was so distant.
"She and Kozue immediately formed a close...bond."
I darkened. Thankful to hear this from Miki, yet knowing the kinder he was, the worse he meant by it.
"In two short weeks she was gone. No note, no message, no good-bye. I have to find her, sempai. Just to make sure she's alright."
He suddenly seemed older to me. Miki was not chasing after her like some weak link, unable to function without his crutch. He was being responsible. He only wanted to ensure her safety. I only hoped he would keep up my ideal of him and not falter if he found her. Miki deserved to be free. We all did. I finally managed to speak, still in shock that Shiori had mostly been out of Ootori the past few months and I'd heard no word from her, "Why are you looking here, Miki-kun?"
I heard the sound of crinkling paper as he removed a sheet out of his pocket, smoothing the creases and handed it to me. It was a poster for some club downtown and a small picture in the corner looked like Shiori and Kozue standing so close together that you couldn't tell whose hand was where as they interlocked in each others' arms. The announcement was for a performance by the band Kuroi Chouchou. How fitting.
The performance wasn't for another week, they were the opening act for the New Year's Eve show. That kind of surprised me. I'd heard Shiori sing in the shower, but I never knew she actually had musical talent. Then again, the crap on the radio these days can hardly be called music for the most part. So, I had no clue what the show would be like.
Miki stayed with me that week and it was a nice change. I realized that I'd actually missed the simple company of having a roommate and Miki, being the quiet and unassuming person he is, made a good companion. In seven short days we fell into a strange sort of routine. We woke up at the same time; him from his couch, me from my cold bed. Must be in it for the student council. Or maybe at least for us. We commonly met for fencing practice early in the morning at Ootori. Waking at 6 AM was still a habit.
I was on vacation from the studio. They'd asked me to take two weeks off for the holidays and some rest. I guess the dark circles and puffiness from no sleep and crying had been noticeable in early December. So, with my free time, Miki and I reminisced. I actually picked up a rapier again.
There would be few times later in my life that I ever touched a sword and then only to remember. This time, with Miki, would be one of those times I would cherish. I won't say it was like old times. That wouldn't particularly be a good thing. It was an all-new memory. The local gym had an area set aside for fencing and Miki and I rented it out almost every day that week. We exchanged few words during out precious hour. Our rapier's spoke for us. I still had it. The special flare that made me a Victor in the dojo at Ootori. It felt good to hear my point catch on the cotton fabric of Miki's rented padding. The sound always reminded me of a candle being snuffed out.
Miki still also had a strong control over his style. I always admired how he was constantly learning. Every move I made that beat him in one match would be perfected by him in the next. He was a very admirable opponent. He always was. The thing that made the duels most enjoyable, though, was how win or lose, it never changed. He never grew bitter and I never became bored. It was a mutual respect and need to get out past aggressions concerning the lives we once led and the lives we now had to lead that fueled our duels. I won't be modest; we often drew a crowd.
The rest of the time we went out to lunch and dinner. We saw old movies at old theatres. And we also talked. I opened up to Miki like I'd never had in Ootori. Don't get me wrong, I was still secretive and many of my comments were like riddles, but it was the best I could do. We owed it to each other to reveal a bit of ourselves. At school we both felt alone, but the other one was a constant presence that still somewhat helped. We understood each other without having to explain ourselves. It had been comforting and I was grateful for it.
I had gotten the tickets for the show as soon as Miki told me about it. Pulling strings I got VIP passes, which pretty much meant that at any time we could go to the foot of the small stage and even backstage. It was just a club, but the main band was pretty popular so I didn't want to take any chances on not being able to talk to Shiori. As the day approached I found myself morbidly staring at the poster. I had kept it and took it out every night after Miki was asleep. His soft breathing always deepened around midnight, so I'd pull the paper from the nightstand drawer and look at the foreign couple.
Shiori's hair was to her shoulders now, but it was spiky and straighter. She had also lost what little tan she'd once had and looked incredibly pale. Almost sick, in my opinion. Her little black dress hung off of her slender body, which was bony. Kozue's hair seemed shorter on the edges, slicked down with gel and sticking out on the ends. In the picture she wore a halter-top and a miniskirt. Both black. Their bodies were so close that it disgusted me and they seemed to be staring right at me, mocking me with their wicked grins.
Their eyes were dark, pitch in color because of bad shadowing. How had she gotten herself into this? How had Shiori..my Shiori..become partners with Kozue? The school whore. And that's what she was. Believe me, as a student council member, I knew everything about every student. It was unimaginable to think that Kozue and Miki were born from the same mother, nevertheless the same egg. It was insane to imagine Shiori enjoying Kozue's company. The girl was seemed so simple. She slept with practically every guy and I often wondered if she did it because the one guy she wanted to sleep with wouldn't possibly allow her to.
Having Shiori with Kozue was somehow even worse than Ruka. At least with Ruka I could somewhat understand. I could see the attraction and as sick as it sounds, it almost pleased me. Ruka and I were so much alike. A part of me had felt like.. maybe, a bit of Shiori could love me if she could fall in love so quickly with Ruka. But, that was the old Shiori. The woman I had known months previously wouldn't have fallen into such a relationship. And that's when it hit me.
She hadn't changed. Looking at that vindictive smile caught eternally on paper caused bile to rise in my throat. That familiar glimmer of darkness. Maybe a part of her had grown up but it seemed perfectly clear that the matured portion of herself died when she reentered Ootori. She was reverting back to her old ways. The ways I couldn't understand. The Shiori that confused and tormented me. Suddenly my necklace felt like it was choking me and I had to unclasp it from my neck, letting it fall loosely into my hand. I suddenly would feel guilty and wish I'd never left her alone after the fight that night. Never given Shiori a chance to run back to a place that offered only suffering.
Sometimes I simply couldn't stomach it and I'd toss the poster back in the drawer, slamming it closed. Yet, I could still feel their eyes upon me. I'd have to close my eyes, wrap my fingers around my loose locket, and focus on Miki's gentle breathing from the futon in order to fall asleep.
Part III
A Shoujo Kakumei Utena fanfic.
Written by Juri-chan (aka cigam - cigam@cigamerisedi.com)
Disclaimer : Characters & story - BePapas and Saito. Lyrics - Ani DiFranco.
Summary : Alone again, Juri faces life in the big city without Shiori and runs into an old friend who has news from the school that once trapped them both.
Author's Note : This was one of my favorite chapters to write. I really like the character I got to introduce into the plot so that made it fun. Anyway, this is still one of the old chapters! I sure did write quite a bit and let it just rot. I hope there's still breath in these words to continue to an end. Let me know what you think!
----------
Life without Takatsuki Shiori was numbing. In the beginning I did not cry. It wasn't that I refused to or anything. I simply couldn't. I hadn't truly accepted it all, yet. I'm sure I was in a state of shock. A call would be for her and I would say she wasn't in and for the caller to try again.. instinctively.. before even remembering her absence. Her mail began to pile on the table next to her side of the bed - the left side. And I never took the entire surface of the mattress, or all of the covers. That area seemed too cold to touch.
What caused my breakdown was when I found my locket. No, not my first shattered locket. But another one, identical to it, with the golden blooming petals stiff and firm and shining new. It was in a thin black velvet box with a simple black bow tied around it. She'd left two weeks before my birthday, I found it in the bottom drawer of her dresser while looking for candles a week after. I was 20 and sobbing like I was 5. The picture she'd placed inside of it was the one I took of her one afternoon in Central Park by a large, blossoming tree. She was looking straight at me. Smiling at me, laughing at me and a moment we shared. She wasn't looking away anymore.
And now she was gone. It was hard to accept, which is why I began wearing the locket. The heavy gold chain weighed heavy on my neck and my conscience. I missed her, and I was reminded of it every second of every day. At work they never complained about my new found apathy. Reviewers called my recent look in my modeling photos sensual and full of an honest grit. They were blind. They didn't see the pain hidden behind my stoic stares. They were just like my classmates from Ootori. I felt like I was reliving the life I led there so many years ago and I simply let it happen.
The less I had to do, the better. I never attended parties anymore, unless my manager insisted for the sake of my image. Even then, while I was there I only spoke to those people I was obligated to speak to. Otherwise I sat at home and read if I could. Sometimes I found it hard to concentrate. Even after a month, the place still smelled of her. I kept wondering where she was. What she was doing, who she was with. Did she make it to Ootori? Could you actually just walk back in? Had it changed? Will she change? I could not answer these questions, so they kept invading my thoughts. I also became somewhat of an insomniac - which the agency did have a problem with. I began to look weak I suppose. There was so little to work for anymore, and it started to show.
The holiday season was a long, torturous ordeal. Families and couples were around every corner, with excited smiles and bulging bags full of gifts. I realized with a deep sinking feeling that I had no one to buy for and nothing to look forward to. The holidays are so empty when there's no one to spend them with. The presents become shallow, the carols become tuneless, and every wide-eyed child appears soulless to a cynic at Christmas. I don't remember there ever being a Christmas at Ootori, really. Once I began attending school there the passage of time seemed non-existent. I wanted to be there again, so I wouldn't be the only one living in a world where such things never mattered.
When Christmas morning arrived I woke up as a normally did. I made a cup of coffee (with a shot of amaretto). I ate a bagel with marmalade and cream cheese. I checked my messages. I read the paper. Everything occurred as usual. As dull, and empty as usual. Yet, around noon I was suddenly overcome with a craving for shaved ice. I know it makes no logical sense. Who in the Hell wants shaved ice on Christmas morning in the middle of New York City? But I wanted it so I went out to find it. What else did I have to do?
I slipped out of my apartment building, bundled in my large black winter coat, to meet the freezing winter day. I walked down my block, and through the next, trying to keep as far from the sounds of the Macy's day parade as possible. The longer I walked, though, the more I realized no vendor in his right mind would stray from the festivities if he planned to make any money. Hell, any vendor in his right mind wouldn't be selling shaved ice. Right as I thought this I caught a familiar scent in the air. Sweet.. almost too sweet.. like roses and warm bath water. And sunlight. I followed the scent into a small shop, noticing as I wandered in that the sign offered ice cream and Italian ice. A small figure stood by the bar; strands of blue hair peeking from their jacket hood.
"I'll have an Italian ice, please.. blueberry."
-----
You were always half crazy, Now look at you baby
You make about as much sense as a nursery rhyme
Love is a piano, dropped from a four-story window
And you were in the wrong place, at the wrong time
Verse III : Blue Ice
-----
"Juri-sempai!"
He spoke first, as was custom. His azure eyes were just as I remembered them and seeing them brighten at the sight of me stirred an old, odd feeling. I felt contented and comfortable in his presence, even after all this time.
"Miki-kun.."
He came forward, his dessert paid for and in hand, shock still playing across his rosy cheeks, "What a surprise, sempai! Imagine finding you here."
"I sent you letters, Miki-kun. I've lived here for two years, now."
His smile slackened a bit as he pushed his jacket hood back, revealing longer, lighter blue hair than I remembered, "Oh? I never got any.."
And we both knew why.
He perked his smile up again, brushing the thought away and the memories it brought with it. "Well, at least I've found you, now."
I blinked, unable to fully comprehend what he was saying. Had he been searching for me? All this time? "Had you been looking?", I questioned.
Being the honest soul he was, he logically shook his head faintly, "I'm sorry.. I hadn't. I had no clue where to start, sempai."
That made more sense. I felt balanced again as I nodded.. but followed with an inquiry, "Then what are you doing here?"
"I'm actually.. I'm looking for my sister."
Kozue.
I took Miki to a local bowling alley and between strikes he explained to me everything that had happened at Ootori since Shiori had left, since she'd informed me of that much. Akio no longer made any public appearances after his fiancée, Kanae, took her own life. In fact, many people thought he committed suicide as well, in misery of his loss. But we seitokai know much better. As soon as Miki told me of the woman's death I suspected Akio as the cause. Besides, even if she had killed herself, he would never take his precious life in the name of her worthless existence. Touga took over for the most part, but even he began to look like the living dead.
Miki once spoke to him, but Kiryuu-san seemed like a puppet with fading strings. Yet the strings had been in place for so long, Miki doubted Touga would even know what to do if they ever finally broke. I pitied the martyr seitokaichou. He was essentially sacrificing himself for the greater good of Ootori. Only he could charm Akio into thinking he was still brilliant and omnipotent. With Touga distracting the Dean the students were able to leave with little interference. Though, really, what could Akio do now? My honest belief is that Touga felt he had no where else to go. Might as well spend the rest of his days doing something familiar. Playing the game would be less painful than living in a world where Utena was, because he could not have her. She had refused him and staying in Ootori was his way of asserting his last shred of free will; his personal suicide.
When Miki revealed the disappearance of his sister, I struck my first gutter ball of all-time and slumped into the seat in front of the score monitor. 'KM' and 'AJ' seemed too bright, stark white letters on the blue screen, as I stared at our scores. I was kicking Miki's ass, but I found no comfort in it. Kozue was with Shiori.
"When Takatsuki-san returned to Ootori it was all anyone ever talked about for weeks. Apparently she's the only one to successfully return. I believe Akio-san had something to do with it, you shouldn't just be able to walk back into school like that."
He was right, Saionji had to strike up a contract in order to return from simple expulsion. I wondered what Shiori had to do to come back from reality.. no, I didn't want to know. Slowly my bowling shoes seemed to pinch my toes and the loud crash of pins echoed in my ears. Miki's gentle voice was so distant.
"She and Kozue immediately formed a close...bond."
I darkened. Thankful to hear this from Miki, yet knowing the kinder he was, the worse he meant by it.
"In two short weeks she was gone. No note, no message, no good-bye. I have to find her, sempai. Just to make sure she's alright."
He suddenly seemed older to me. Miki was not chasing after her like some weak link, unable to function without his crutch. He was being responsible. He only wanted to ensure her safety. I only hoped he would keep up my ideal of him and not falter if he found her. Miki deserved to be free. We all did. I finally managed to speak, still in shock that Shiori had mostly been out of Ootori the past few months and I'd heard no word from her, "Why are you looking here, Miki-kun?"
I heard the sound of crinkling paper as he removed a sheet out of his pocket, smoothing the creases and handed it to me. It was a poster for some club downtown and a small picture in the corner looked like Shiori and Kozue standing so close together that you couldn't tell whose hand was where as they interlocked in each others' arms. The announcement was for a performance by the band Kuroi Chouchou. How fitting.
The performance wasn't for another week, they were the opening act for the New Year's Eve show. That kind of surprised me. I'd heard Shiori sing in the shower, but I never knew she actually had musical talent. Then again, the crap on the radio these days can hardly be called music for the most part. So, I had no clue what the show would be like.
Miki stayed with me that week and it was a nice change. I realized that I'd actually missed the simple company of having a roommate and Miki, being the quiet and unassuming person he is, made a good companion. In seven short days we fell into a strange sort of routine. We woke up at the same time; him from his couch, me from my cold bed. Must be in it for the student council. Or maybe at least for us. We commonly met for fencing practice early in the morning at Ootori. Waking at 6 AM was still a habit.
I was on vacation from the studio. They'd asked me to take two weeks off for the holidays and some rest. I guess the dark circles and puffiness from no sleep and crying had been noticeable in early December. So, with my free time, Miki and I reminisced. I actually picked up a rapier again.
There would be few times later in my life that I ever touched a sword and then only to remember. This time, with Miki, would be one of those times I would cherish. I won't say it was like old times. That wouldn't particularly be a good thing. It was an all-new memory. The local gym had an area set aside for fencing and Miki and I rented it out almost every day that week. We exchanged few words during out precious hour. Our rapier's spoke for us. I still had it. The special flare that made me a Victor in the dojo at Ootori. It felt good to hear my point catch on the cotton fabric of Miki's rented padding. The sound always reminded me of a candle being snuffed out.
Miki still also had a strong control over his style. I always admired how he was constantly learning. Every move I made that beat him in one match would be perfected by him in the next. He was a very admirable opponent. He always was. The thing that made the duels most enjoyable, though, was how win or lose, it never changed. He never grew bitter and I never became bored. It was a mutual respect and need to get out past aggressions concerning the lives we once led and the lives we now had to lead that fueled our duels. I won't be modest; we often drew a crowd.
The rest of the time we went out to lunch and dinner. We saw old movies at old theatres. And we also talked. I opened up to Miki like I'd never had in Ootori. Don't get me wrong, I was still secretive and many of my comments were like riddles, but it was the best I could do. We owed it to each other to reveal a bit of ourselves. At school we both felt alone, but the other one was a constant presence that still somewhat helped. We understood each other without having to explain ourselves. It had been comforting and I was grateful for it.
I had gotten the tickets for the show as soon as Miki told me about it. Pulling strings I got VIP passes, which pretty much meant that at any time we could go to the foot of the small stage and even backstage. It was just a club, but the main band was pretty popular so I didn't want to take any chances on not being able to talk to Shiori. As the day approached I found myself morbidly staring at the poster. I had kept it and took it out every night after Miki was asleep. His soft breathing always deepened around midnight, so I'd pull the paper from the nightstand drawer and look at the foreign couple.
Shiori's hair was to her shoulders now, but it was spiky and straighter. She had also lost what little tan she'd once had and looked incredibly pale. Almost sick, in my opinion. Her little black dress hung off of her slender body, which was bony. Kozue's hair seemed shorter on the edges, slicked down with gel and sticking out on the ends. In the picture she wore a halter-top and a miniskirt. Both black. Their bodies were so close that it disgusted me and they seemed to be staring right at me, mocking me with their wicked grins.
Their eyes were dark, pitch in color because of bad shadowing. How had she gotten herself into this? How had Shiori..my Shiori..become partners with Kozue? The school whore. And that's what she was. Believe me, as a student council member, I knew everything about every student. It was unimaginable to think that Kozue and Miki were born from the same mother, nevertheless the same egg. It was insane to imagine Shiori enjoying Kozue's company. The girl was seemed so simple. She slept with practically every guy and I often wondered if she did it because the one guy she wanted to sleep with wouldn't possibly allow her to.
Having Shiori with Kozue was somehow even worse than Ruka. At least with Ruka I could somewhat understand. I could see the attraction and as sick as it sounds, it almost pleased me. Ruka and I were so much alike. A part of me had felt like.. maybe, a bit of Shiori could love me if she could fall in love so quickly with Ruka. But, that was the old Shiori. The woman I had known months previously wouldn't have fallen into such a relationship. And that's when it hit me.
She hadn't changed. Looking at that vindictive smile caught eternally on paper caused bile to rise in my throat. That familiar glimmer of darkness. Maybe a part of her had grown up but it seemed perfectly clear that the matured portion of herself died when she reentered Ootori. She was reverting back to her old ways. The ways I couldn't understand. The Shiori that confused and tormented me. Suddenly my necklace felt like it was choking me and I had to unclasp it from my neck, letting it fall loosely into my hand. I suddenly would feel guilty and wish I'd never left her alone after the fight that night. Never given Shiori a chance to run back to a place that offered only suffering.
Sometimes I simply couldn't stomach it and I'd toss the poster back in the drawer, slamming it closed. Yet, I could still feel their eyes upon me. I'd have to close my eyes, wrap my fingers around my loose locket, and focus on Miki's gentle breathing from the futon in order to fall asleep.