Woah boy... This took for-freaking-ever. Between real life being a bitch, my off-again on-again relationship with writing, discovering or re-discovering about a dozen other fandoms and just plain laziness, parts of this chapter have been lying around on my hard drive for nearly a year now.
Finally, in a burst of inspiration I managed ot finish it, and after another week of chasing down pre-readers and procrastinatting some more, I finally got to upload.
Without further ado, enjoy my (not so) triumphant return to Neptunia Fanfics.

I should probably put a trigger warning for an anxiety attack here. So, yeah.
That's a thing that happens.

The weekend is torture for Blanc. She forgot to get Neptune's number, so she has to wait for monday to see her soulmate again. To learn more about the girl that faces Noire and Ganache and her parent's wrath with a grin and a quip. Once more, the Candidate's creative mind works overtime fantasizing about her soulmate, coming up with ever escalating scenarios for the lavender-haired ball of cuteness and courage to overcome, from mundane things like greeting her every morning with fresh coffee, to such ludícrous scenarios as taking over the world and ruling it with an iron fist and Blanc by her side.

So giddy with excitement is she, that she makes the one mistake that she swore she would never make: she tells Vert about it.

"So you finally found your fabled princess. I'm so proud of you!" The older Candidate crows over video-chat.

"Do tell, how did that happen? I don't recall hearing about any monster incursions, wars or natural disasters in your area. Are you sure it was the one you were telling me about all these years?"

Blanc already regrets sharing some of her stories with the boob-brained meddler. Shame rising into her face and tinting her cheeks red, she just barely keeps from violently shutting her netbook.

"Shut up, thundertits. I never said any of that!" Of course, as always, Vert is unfazed by the diminutive Candidate's anger.

"My, what language. You may have never said it, but those little stories of yours were rather obvious. All those tall, well-endowed protagonists meeting their soulmates in the aftermath of a terrible calamity… it wasn't hard to spot the pattern. Oh, please stop that. You'll tear your lovely hat."

Stopping briefly in her attempts to pull her hat down over her head to swallow her whole, Blanc makes a rude gesture in the direction of the screen, before shouting through the thick fabric: "I'll never tell you anything again! Damn it, Vert, can you take this seriously for once?!"

"Why, what are you talking about? I am taking this seriously. It's not my fault you're too easily embarrassed to hold a conversation. Now, tell me, what actually happened? I have been curious about that for so long."

Blanc sighs once more, recalling all the other times where the blonde bimbo managed to pry some information or confession from her. She always puts up a fight, but in the end Vert always somehow manages to learn everything. It's almost as if the older Candidate can see straight into Blanc. Or maybe she just really wants to tell her stories to someone.

No, that can't be it. That's just ridiculous.

Whatever the reason, she figures it's pointless to try to fight that stupid, knowing grin. Steeling herself, Blanc pulls off her hat, sets it back into its proper place and shape, and then looks up, dark blue eyes meeting a brighter, and slightly pixely, set.

"Okay, okay. If that's what it takes to get rid of you, I guess I'll have to tell you."

"Well, you could just disconnect the call…."

"SHUT UP! Stop being so smug and let me talk!"

"Alright, I'll hold myself back for now." The blonde Candidate's smile widens and she lounges back in her chair, clearly pleased with herself.

"Please, do go on."

Steeling herself for the mix of embarrassment and excitement she knows will come with reliving the tale once more, Blanc launches into a retelling of friday's events.

"And that is checkmate in three turns. You have bested me yet again, miss Noire. That is all for today, I will take my leave then."

Noire nods, bows, and bids her strategy and logic teacher goodbye. After escorting Firaxis to the door, she begins the long trek through the empty halls of the estate back towards her own room.

The day's successes have done something to ease her bruised pride, and Noire feels confident that whatever happens when she faces the girl again, the prodigal Candidate will have the upper hand. The thought of her inevitable victory and vindication has her almost skipping along the halls.

And Blanc will see that I was right all along, and beg me to teach her my ways! And this Nep-Nep girl, too, will bow down to me and they will join me on my path to become the greatest CPU there ever was!

And with enough tutoring and experience they will grow in competence and professionalism and one day they might be worthy of being my … my Frien-

A pulse from her Soulmark distracts Noire, jarring her out of her daydreams. For a few moments, her footsteps echo through the halls, and then even that fades away, leaving the raven-haired teenager in perfect silence, the sound of her heartbeat suddenly unbearably loud in her ears.

The quiet of the empty house washes against her like a tide, washing away her elation and sucking all the fire out of her again.

With her heart hammering in her chest and a sinking feeling in her stomach, Noire slowly, carefully takes another step forward, at the same time hesitant and desperate to break the silence. As the "clack" of her heels echoes through the halls, it sounds almost painfully loud to her.

Click, click, click

Her legs move jerkily, hesitantly, the echoes of her passage loud like gunshots to her ears.

Clack, clack, clack

She speeds up, the growing din of steps, echoes, her pounding pulse and increasingly laboured breathing both exciting and terrifying her, driving her forwards…

And through it all, her Soulmark burns against her skin, not painful, but an inescapable reminder of what had transpired just a few short days ago. The pulsing heat it emits ever intensifying, drowning out all other sensations. The pulsing waves encompass her entire being, like a heartbeat infinitely more powerful than her own, and before she knows it, her own heart begins to follow the burning pulses, slowing down and becoming less erratic.

As her pulse calms down, her environment slowly comes back into focus. Suddenly, Noire realizes that she is on her bed, huddled under the blankets. Her pillow is wet, as is her face.

She is dimly aware that tears are still flowing from her eyes, but she can't bring herself to care about something so trivial for now.

"What… what is happening to me? Why… why am I crying?! Why…?"

She looks up, gaze searching her room, but the utilitarian furniture and barren walls hold no answers to her questions.

Her Soulmark still burns, and it cements one thing in her mind:

This is Neptune's fault. Whatever is happening, it's all because of her.

Thanks to Atrociouswriter for beta-ing this. Feel free to favourite, follow, and leave me a review if you want to comment, complain, praise or just rant at me. Looking forward to hearing from you guys.