Gravity

by Webdog177

Shimako matured into a woman who could turn you into a puddle you with but a single glance. The fact that she and I always danced around each other as teenagers was just another complication, but now the two of us were drawn to each other like gravity. [Spiritual sequel to Selfish Friendship]

5. Chapter 5

I do not own Maria-sama Ga Miteru. #Sadface

A/N: Woo! Now we get into the meat of this story!

I also got lots of glomps from some readers! Xie xie~~~~

Rated for slightly mature content. Nothing explicit (yet), but still nothing I'd read to my kid as a bedtime story.

Enjoy.

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Gravity

Part 5

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Tokyo was always a difficult city to navigate if you didn't know where you were going. It was an easy place to get lost in, for hours at times. I once got lost looking for the subway, until I was able to find a district map an hour or so later. Part of the reason was that as a city, it was large, and densely populated. So if you couldn't keep your bearings, you could easily get lost in the winding streets and countless side roads.

Which was why I was surprised and impressed with the ease that Shimako navigated her car through traffic, shifting as though the action was second nature. I had learned to drive a number of years ago, of course, on a manual transmission, but I never really cared for driving as much as Touko or Sachiko did. I much preferred to use public transportation. Or walk. That was the main reason I found a job close to my apartment, after all.

But still, it was hard for me to imagine Shimako driving a car. She had always seemed so flighty in her teen years, so quiet and calm, that it was just new to see her in this light. She was focused, her eyes flicking around the road to watch for hazards, her hands working the steering wheel with experience, and her ankle boot-clad feet working the pedals deftly.

As my eyes traveled across her body ending in her face, I felt my cheek heat up in a blush. Good God the woman was gorgeous. Yea, I could admit that. At least not aloud. Not yet. Her long hair curled down at the tips, ticking her shoulders and the very top of her bust, and I once again fought the urge to reach out and bury my hands in it, so that I could just, for a moment, remember what it felt like to touch her soft tresses, what it smelled like… would she still smell the same as all those years ago? Or would her scent had changed, as people eventually change as they get older?

My eyes dropped down to the hollow of her throat, to the pale skin that peaked out of the top of her purple blouse. Purple wasn't a color I had seen on her before, but it definitely suited her. Black was better though, from how her skirt contrasted her skin tone and fell around her pale thighs as she shifted her footing.

I swallowed, averting my eyes. I felt a little bad about ogling the woman while she was driving, and made a mental note to continue to do so when she was less busy.

My hand clenched tightly on my seat as Shimako took a turn sharply, and it was then I noticed that, somewhere between the time I started staring at her and now, the traffic had lessened significantly and there were fewer streetlights. This was a slightly older district, and one less populated. I never recalled being here before, and silently wondered what Shimako had to show me.

"After I graduated Lillian," The woman finally said after the silence stretched on. I turned my attention back towards her, suddenly very curious in what she had to say about herself after school had ended. "My father and I had a long conversation about my future. We were at odds, him and I. He wanted me to continue my education, and I wanted to take over the temple. Eventually we reached an agreement. When he was younger, he went on a… pilgrimage, I suppose you could say. He traveled abroad, to many different Buddhist temples, and prayed at each of them. He told me that after he was finished, and had finished reflecting on the ideals and philosophy that Buddhism taught, he finally knew what he wanted out of life. He offered me the same opportunity that his father gave to him, and allowed me to travel abroad for the summer."

I blinked, trying to recall heard about this. I seemed to remember Rei, Yoshino and Sachiko talking about Shimako being unreachable for a while after Lillian, but at the time I hadn't thought anything of it. I had assumed she was on vacation with her father. In retrospect, it seemed as though I wasn't too far off.

"I see." I finally said. "So you went abroad. How long were you gone?"

"Only three months or so. There was a lot of travelling and I didn't stay in one place for too long. I would move to a new temple, starting in Japan and then moving to Korea or China or Vietnam… stay there for a time and think on the teachings of Buddhism, and then move onto the next one."

"Wow…" I sighed, suddenly jealous of the opportunity she had been given. "I would love to travel abroad like that."

Shimako snorted, though she managed to keep the noise delicate and lovely, as always. "It was tiring. I was exhausted all the time. I barely had time to properly rest, and absolutely no time for sightseeing. I never ever saw the Great Wall of China."

I nodded in sympathy, but kept silent.

"Anyway, after finally having my fill of that, I returned to Japan and told my father that I still didn't know what I wanted to do. I had travelled, I had meditated, and I had considered all my options… in great length." Her eyes flicked towards me. "I had ample time to think about going to University during my trip. And now that I was back, and still hadn't decided what I really wanted, I was frustrated, and angry; mainly with myself."

"So, what did you do?" I asked, immensely curious. That had been about seven years ago, and Shimako seemed to be doing pretty well for herself. She looked good, and she didn't seem all that unhappy or frustrated.

Shimako shrugged. "As I said, this and that; about the same thing you are doing. I started working part time for a few places. A restaurant, an office…" She blinked and turned her head slightly towards me, a small smile on her face. "I worked in a café for a short time."

I grinned at that, pleased to hear that my friend shared, at least a little, a similar experience with me since Lillian. "It's not all that bad once you get used to it."

Turning back to the road, Shimako continued, "I also took a few classes, simply to try and spark some sort of interest. Nothing took, and I found myself wondering when was the last time I knew for certain what I wanted." Suddenly, Shimako turned the car again and pulled up on the side of the road, and cut the engine.

"We've arrived." She said simply.

As she unbuckled her seatbelt and opened her door I looked around, trying to find anything that seemed familiar in the area. The street itself was small, only two lanes, and while there were streetlight dotting the sidewalks, there weren't a lot of people milling around. Even if Shimako had taken me here, and I felt as though she would never do anything to put me in harm's way, I couldn't help the feeling of nervousness that welled up in me whenever I felt out of my depth.

My door opened suddenly, and Shimako looked above me, her smile still serene and pleasant. She held out her hand for me and I took it, appreciating the help with pushing myself out of the car. As she locked her car and stepped onto the sidewalk beside me, she nodded in the direction of a building across the road.

"This way." She said and started off, myself trailing at her side. We crossed the street, which was easy enough with barely any cars on the road, and stopped just outside of a closed door on the bottom floor of the building. It was one of those typical multi-business developments, where every floor was leased out to a different owner. One floor could be a restaurant, whereas the next could be an arcade or shop of some kind. And as I looked around for some kind of directory – and not finding one – I settled for the novelty of simply being surprised.

I was about to reach for the door to open it for my friend, when she reached out to lightly touch my forearm, stopping me. I looked at her, curious.

"Do you know what the last thing I knew I wanted was?"

I blinked, caught off guard by the sudden continuation of Shimako's previous topic. But as I dropped my arm, I slowly shook my head.

"No."

A few moments passed in silence as she regarded me with her typical expression, but even I knew her well enough to catch subtle ticks in her face. She was nervous; she wanted me to see what she had to offer, but was afraid of what I was say, what I would do. She wanted me to dance with her, as we had as children. She wanted lead me, and hoped I would follow.

Well, I had said I wouldn't make it easy for her, but…

"Shimako… I—"

She held up a hand, silencing me with a neutral expression. "The last time I knew, for a fact, that I wanted something was when I had wanted you."

I swallowed heavily, watching Shimako's ever-calm face, her eyes silvery and searching mine. I bit my lip and, after a moment, felt the urge to avert my gaze. It took some effort, but I fought the urge and kept my gaze. She smiled after a moment, obviously noticing how I matched her stare, and reached her hand up to brush her fingers against my cheek.

"Will you dance for me, Yumi?"

My tongue darted out to lick my bottom lip. "Yes." I breathed.

At my admission, her smile stretched across her face, and her finger trailed down my face, across my lips and jawline down to neck, where she flicked her nail gently. Her grin was wide, pleased that I had chosen to dance for her.

But her eyes darkened, sending a familiar sensation down my back to my belly, where it squirmed and writhed. I stared into her eyes for a long moment, suddenly feeling as though that this… this… this was the real Shimako. The Shimako that we never saw in school. The real Shimako who had grown up into a mature, independent adult. The real Shimako who somehow, inexplicably, wanted me.

And I was determined not to disappoint her.

Shimako opened to door, and nodded at me to enter.

Inside it was warm, and dark. It smelled of the sweet, yet bitter mixture of coffee. The walls were a dark brown wood that matched the floors, and my first impression was that if the lighting was better, it would actually pass for a different version of the Rose Mansion from our Lillian days. There were couches and stuffed chairs, all colored darkly in blacks, blues, purples and greens. There were a handful of people about, lounging around the room comfortably. A pair of women, chattering softly, sat beside each other. A man and a woman sat draped across each other, quietly enjoying each other's company. A single woman sat by herself, her legs and arms crossed impatiently.

As I looked around, I decided that it must be one of those coffee houses that allowed its patrons to relax and chat while drinking coffee. I figured Shimako must enjoy the quiet and intimacy of this sort of place, and was about to turn to ask her where she wanted to sit when another woman walked into the room from behind a black curtain, and any sound I would have made was stolen from me as my breath was sucked out of my lungs.

Leather would have been the first thing that came to mind. She wore tight leather pants, knee-length leather boots, and what looked to be an incredibly detailed, black-and-red corset, complete with laces and ribbon. Her hair, long and black, shined slightly in the dim as she approached us, bobbing slightly from side to side as she walked. Her make-up, which was easily as well-applied as mine of Shimako's, accented her bright blue eyes and full lips. Her bright red lipstick made her pleased smile all the more obvious.

"Shimako, good evening." She said as she stopped in front of us. Her voice was soft, cultured, and clear. "I was happy when you told me you were coming tonight." She turned to look at me, and my shoulders instinctively curled in protectively. "Is this your friend?"

I wanted to step away from the woman, but Shimako's arm snaked out to wrap around my waist, keeping me well in place.

"Yes. This is Yumi." Shimako said. She turned towards me and smiled. "Yumi, this is Setsuna. She is an acquaintance of mine."

"N-nice to meet you." I managed, dipping my head in a slight bow.

That seemed to amuse Setsuna, who chuckled. "You were right about her, Shimako. She is polite." When Shimako didn't respond, the other turned her smile back to me. "Feel free to sit anywhere, you two. The show is about to begin."

As the woman strutted away toward the curtains again, I was directed after her by my friend. My eyes darted around, suddenly taking in the other patrons and room in a new light, and as the doorway grew closer I swallowed through the suddenly hot sensation in my chest.

"Shimako." I stammered softly, and she sent me a reassuring smile.

"Relax, Yumi. I won't let anything happen to you."

Setsuna opened the curtains as we neared, and I reflexively clamped my hands around Shimako's arm for support as we passed the threshold. The wooden floor changed to carpet as we walked down a hallway and passed doors on either side. In all actuality the hallways wasn't all that long, but as Shimako led me past door after door, my anticipation and nervousness built and I could only hold onto her to keep myself standing.

"Shimako… is this place… what I think it is?" I whispered softly, nervously.

"And what kind of place do you think this is, Yumi?" She replied back, equally as soft. I couldn't even give it words, only having a passing knowledge about this sort of business. I had heard of it, yes, from acquaintances and a couple friends… but I most certainly had never gone to one. Suddenly, as I peered up at Shimako beside me, I began to see my friend in a slightly new light.

I only barely heard Setsuna chuckle behind us.

Our walk continued until Shimako pulled me to a stop in front of a door. Setsuna stepped ahead of us and smiled tightly. "There are a couple others watching, just letting you know."

Shimako nodded. "That is fine. Thank you Setsuna."

The woman's smile seemed to be directed solely at me. "Enjoy the show."

As I was pulled by the waist into the darkened room by Shimako, I heard the door slowly close behind us and I couldn't help but wonder, and fear, that this dance… this dance that Shimako wanted from me… if it would be too much for me to handle.

"Don't be shy." Shimako murmured beside me as we entered the room proper. She led me towards a couch that was placed along the edge of the room, and I found myself inking down into the soft plush even before I realized I did. Shimako sat beside me, careful not to touch me, but the closeness and possessiveness of her position was not lost on me.

I blinked across the room and saw a couple curled up on the couch opposite of ours. A man and a woman spoke softly to one another, apparently oblivious to our arrival. I looked towards another couch, and the two woman there were staring at me with intent expressions. I was able to match their stares before I finally broke away from them, looking down at my lap.

I was out oy my element – if I ever had one – and everyone knew it. It showed in my expression, my body language, and my constantly shifting eyes. It was as if Shimako knew I was determined to match her dance, and did everything in her power to keep me off balance. If that was indeed her plan, she was doing a damn fine job.

"So…" I said softly, getting Shimako's attention. "What's all this about?" I waved my hands, gesturing to the middle of the room. There was a large bed adorning the center, with a solid-looking wooden table beside it, and a rack on the other side, an assortment of not-so-subtle looking implements laid out across it.

I already knew what this was about. I just needed to hear someone say it out loud.

Shimako ignored my question. "As I was saying, the last time I really knew what I wanted was when I wanted you." She shifted into a more comfortable position, so that she both faced me, as well as the center of the room. "When we were both at Lillian together, I told you that I felt something for you, and then decided to act on it."

I nodded slow, vividly recalling that moment when she was watching me beneath hooded eyes, her lips parted slightly as she whispered my name, as her fingers wound themselves in my hair, gently tugging at my ribbons until they came undone and my hair fell down across my shoulders.

I sunk lower into my seat, already knowing where this was heading.

"I still remember how you looked back then." Shimako continued, her tone softening, possibly from nostalgia. "As I said, you had been young then – wide eyed and eager to please. So was I, but then again, I only knew for certain what I wanted after the fact. It was only after I saw you together with Sachiko that I knew what it was like to be jealous."

I opened my mouth to argue that I had never been together with Sachiko in that way, that the two of us were sisters, and only ever sisters, but my words were interrupted when Shimako raised her hand.

"I am well aware that you and Sachiko were never like that." She said clearly. "Well, I know that now. At the time, I had no reason to expect otherwise. Your attitude towards her was always inconsistent. One day you would be indifferent, almost nonexistent to her. The next everyone was expecting you to prostrate yourself before her and declare your undying love for the girl. From my perspective, it was both maddening and frustrating."

I knew what she was talking about, of course. After my little episode with Shimako telling me that she was attracted to me, my emotions were a mess. I loved Sachiko, but at the time I didn't really know how much, or in what way. I simply didn't know what to do at the time, and I had ended up losing Shimako simply due to my indecisiveness. At least, that was what I told myself in the years since then.

My musing was interrupted when Setsuna sauntered over to us from the entryway and held out a tray. Shimako nodded her thanks, taking the two cups from it and handing one to me. I reached out to take it, and immediately sipped at the drink without even inspecting it. To my surprise, and delight, it was green tea with honey. My favorite.

"Thank you." I said softly.

Setsuna's gaze travelled over me and her expression shifted to something I couldn't quite pick up on. "I hope you enjoy your evening." She smiled cryptically and then excused herself.

After a long moment, during which I sipped at my tea, Shimako leaned back towards me. "Regardless of the circumstance, the end result was that you and I never really managed to communicate our thoughts and feelings, and it seemed as though our dance, the one that I had felt the two of us had together since that first day Sachiko fell on you, was over."

Suddenly, the lights in the room dimmed to a soft glow, and music could be heard; soft, subtle and stirring. It hovered around me and permeated my body, causing my body to tense with anticipation. As my eyes swiveled around to watch the other patrons cease their conversations and turn their attention to the center of the room, I felt Shimako lean closer, her lips just a bare inch from my ear. Her breath ghosted out and ticked my hair, and I shivered.

"After realizing that the last time I knew I wanted something was you, I knew I had made a grave mistake in not pursuing you. Ever since then, I had been missing our dance. I missed how you smelled, how you tasted, how you sounded when I would touch you…"

She closed the distance between her lips and me, placing a gently kiss just below my ear. I shuddered violently at the sensation. Fuck! That was totally cheating!

"But I had no way of knowing what you wanted. I wanted you, yes, but it had been at least a year by that time, and by that time, our dance was likely over. You were at school, and dating another."

I winced slightly, hurt that Shimako had found out about that. At the time it seemed like a good idea to accept when my first real girlfriend had asked me out. I hadn't heard from Shimako ever since Lillian, and assumed she had given up on me. So, in an effort to move on, I dated someone else. And then another, and another.

Until now.

"And now…" Shimako whispered softly, as if reading my thoughts. "Now I have you, and our dance can finally be concluded." I sucked in a breath, refusing to break my gaze away from the bed in the middle of the room. "Now, you will dance for me, Yumi. But first, you must learn how I dance now."

As she said those words and withdrew from my ear, my lips parted in an attempt to whisper, even with how faint I may sound, how she danced now, and what would I have to learn in order to dance with her, when the sudden sound of the door opening pulled my attention. A woman emerged from the door, and walked into the center of the room, and as I took in her appearance, the certainty of what Shimako wanted from me made itself known.

Her eyes were the brightest green I had ever seen on a person. Her hair, brown, was pulled back from her face but still brushed her jaw in a shaggy, slightly messy style. She wore a tight black dress with long sleeves, the material clinging to her body in ways I sometimes dreamed I would be able to fill out. As she approached the bed and sat on it, her legs crossed and I couldn't help my eyes from traveling down to where her dress ended just beneath her knees, a trail of the material flowing down behind her calf as her bare feet tucked up under her thighs in a demure sitting position.

Her eyes scanned the room, running over the faces watching her one by one until they landed on Shimako. A smile curled around the corner of her mouth when she locked eyes with her, and then she looked at me. I watched as her expression shifted to one of brief confusion before her face resumed its normal, serene expression. She settled herself on the bed and waited.

"Do you know this woman?" I asked quietly, not breaking my gaze with the girl on the bed.

"Her name is Yoko." Shimako murmured back, equally as quiet.

The green-eyed Yoko sat stoically as the door opened again and Setsuna walked into the room, making directly for the bed. She stood in front of the Yoko, regarding her for a few moments, before pacing over to the rack beside the bed and trailed her fingers over the implements, as if deciding what would be the best to use.

Her fingers flicked over a leather cord; a whip, if my eyes were mistaken, but passed it by for another, smaller pair of smaller pieces of leather. She plucked them from the rack and walked back to Yoko.

"Your hands." She requested. No. Demanded.

Yoko silently offered her hands, and Setsuna deftly wound the leather cords around her wrists, binding her. The woman then stepped closer to Yoko, lifting her hands to trail her fingers down her face slowly. Her nails slid down her cheek, her jaw, her neck and collarbone, and then brushed the very top of her breasts through her dress. Yoko flinched at the contact, inhaling sharply and turning her head away.

Setsuna's eyes narrowed at the moment, the slight, and her lips curled up into a sneer as if to say 'Oh… you shouldn't have done that'.

"Why did you turn away?" She asked aloud, her voice soft, but laced with intent.

"Because I am unsure I want this." Yoko replied, bravely, though the shaken expression in her eyes told another story.

"How can you be unsure unless you try?" The other woman murmured, reaching out again towards Yoko's face, stroking her long fingers down her cheek. Yoko leaned into the touch, her eyes fluttering shut as to enjoy the gentle caress for what it was.

"I'm not sure I want to try." She said softly, breathily.

I licked my lips and looked at the other couples in the room. All of their eyes were locked onto the two women in the center of the room. All of them, except for Shimako. Her eyes were watching me. I narrowed my eyes at her in question, and the smile that crawled across her face was pleased – expectant. Her eyes held the same dark expression I saw on her earlier when she found me talking with Yosuke at the café, and I knew for a fact that she was enjoying watching me squirm. I turned back to the bed.

Setsuna stroked Yoko's face for a moment longer, her eyes travelling up and down her body. Then she stepped away and pulled at the cord binding her arms, pulling Yoko to her feet. The woman obliged, unfolding her legs and standing.

Setsuna met Yoko's gaze for a split second before she turned, walking back towards the rack beside the bed. Every eye followed her as she reached out and ran her fingers along the tools there, and she hummed slightly, as if deciding what would be the best to use.

The dynamic between the two women was fascinating. On some level I knew it was an act, a show for the customers. But as I watched Yoko's face blend seamlessly between adoration, fear, anticipation and acceptance as Setsuna sent teasing glances her way, taking her damn sweet time at the rack, I knew that these women eagerly enjoyed what they did. I sensed the defiance Yoko put out, how she didn't want to give in even though she knew – she fucking knew – she would enjoy it. And I could practically taste the confidence, the sheer assurance in herself that Sestuna had. I knew she lived to crush that defiance, and Yoko would enjoy every moment of it.

The air was tense around the room as she finally made her choice, her fingers wrapping around the braided handle of a short, brown leather implement. Unless I missed my guess, and I wasn't a deft hand at this, but I thought it was called a 'flogger'.

"Come here, Yoko." Setsuna said softly. Something in her voice told me – told everyone – that is was not a request.

Yoko hesitated from her side of the bed, her entire expression unsure, guarded. He body was tense with anticipation, and it coiled tightly with fear, trepidation, and rebelliousness.

I was captivated, completely focused on the two women. Beside me, Shimako remained as poised and elegant as she always was, but I could still somehow feel her attention on me, instead of the center of the room.

"Don't make me repeat myself, Yoko." Setsuna said, her voice still soft, but taking on a noticeable commanding tone. She flicked the implement in her hand towards the rack, causing the leather cords to snap, the sound reverberation around the room loudly.

Yoko winced violently. So did I.

Slowly, Yoko took a step towards Setsuna, and then another, and another. Setsuna smiled, pleased at the other woman's actions, and watched Yoko meekly make her way to her side of the bed, until the woman was all but quivering as she stopped, barely a foot away from her.

"Very good." Setsuna murmured softly. She reached out and stroked her hand down Yoko's cheek again, causing her to lean into the touch as she did before. "Now turn around."

Yoko tensed at the command, her eyes darting around erratically. She knew what she was being told to do, and was nervous. Perhaps rightfully so. Setsuna watched the other woman hesitant, her eyebrow arching high into her bangs as if so say 'No? Are you certain that is wise?'

Apparently, the bound woman thought better of her refusal, and slowly turned around, showing her back to the other. Setsuna seemed pleased, and ran her hand down Yoko's arm leisurely, taking her time touching the soft material of her dress. She then slipped her hand down to the woman's wrist and tightly wound her fingers around it, twisting her arm around and wrenching it behind her back.

Yoko hissed sharply as her arm was bent at a seemingly agonizing angle, and she dropped to her knees to avoid her arm being bent any further. Sestuna leaned forward and, still gripping the flogger in her hands, bent down to whisper in Yoko's ear.

"I don't remember telling you to kneel." She said, just loudly enough for her audience to hear. She then yanked the kneeling woman back to her feet, arm still locked behind her back. Sestuna then reached around and pulled the handle of the flogger underneath Yoko's chin, lifting her face with a gentle, but firm touch. She leaned forward and brushed her lips across the woman's exposed neck.

I shivered in my seat at the sight.

"Oh… you are feisty tonight." Setsuna murmured as Yoko fidgeted against her hold on her arm. "You have some fight. I will enjoy breaking that from you." She pressed her lips against Yoko's shoulder and firmly pulled her arm around so she turned, and was hovering just over the bed. "I think you will enjoy it, as well." As she spoke those last words, I could have sworn that the woman flicked her eyes up just to seek mine out in the darkness.

I fidgeted in my seat, looking away from the sight of Yoko's lithe form held above the bed by a dominating Setsuna. At my moment Shimako reached out, placing a gentle hand on my knee. It was a reassuring gesture, as if she wanted to say 'Relax. I won't let anything happen to you.'

I wanted to believe her. I really did. But every time I tried to tell myself that, I would take in the scene before and think of what I had gotten myself into. The similarities between Setsuna and Yoko and myself and Shimako did not escape me. We looked different, yes. And the situation between us was different. But I could somehow see myself in Yoko's eyes, helpless under Setsuna's – Shimako's – smoldering gaze. I could almost close my eyes and imagine myself, held down by Shimako as she commanded me to kneel, or to do unseemly things to her.

And somehow, deep down, I knew I wanted it.

Oh God… what was happening to me?

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End of Part 5

A/N: A longer chapter than normal, simply because I couldn't find a better place to cut it. Sorry for the sort of cliffhanger (I seem to do that a lot this story), but I know you guys are hooked! :D

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***Will work for glomps***