Sixth

"Rokujou-sama."

Miyuki is surprised to see Tamao at the student council room. It's just lunch time, and she wasn't expecting the younger student to come this early.

"I know you're busy, Rokujou-sama, but I was wondering if I could bother you with something."

Miyuki tilts her head to the side. She and Tamao have grown considerably more comfortable with each other over the past few weeks, so she finds the younger girl's unexpected shyness quite interesting.

"Of course, Tamao-san. I'd be glad to help you in any way I can."

"Well…" The younger girl hesitates. "It's just that I haven't been able to write poetry…lately. Right now, I've tried my hand at something new. I was hoping if…you can possibly give me insight or comments to this current work I'm trying."

Miyuki looks at the notebook in Tamao's outstretched hand and receives it with a smile.

"I would be honored Tamao-san. I know how highly regarded your literary work is in Astraea Hill. However, are you sure about this? Risking the originality of your work by my criticisms?"

"Rokujou-sama, I really admire the critique you've made in my adaption of Carmen I've written for the drama festival. I am really wishing that you could do the same for this one. I would deeply appreciate your honest opinion. Please feel free to be harsh as necessary."

With that, Tamao bows and leaves the room. Miyuki is left staring at the notebook in her hands. She turns the first page with anticipation.

I knew it would come to this. I'd only hoped it would come much later. She was mine for a short time. But I am nothing but a fool. She was never mine. She already belonged to someone else the moment another claimed her with a kiss. Things that happened after that had only delayed the inevitable. Now that it has happened, I no longer find comfort in my foresight—only enormous feelings of loss and despair. If friendship means yearning for the other's happiness, then I don't want to take part in it. I've only ever known the pain of loving, never the joy. What good will my gifts do to me, knowing that she only loves another?

Pain throbbed Miyuki's heart as she continues to turn the pages of the notebook. It turns out to be a written requiem…for the younger girl and for Miyuki, whether she had intended the latter or not. Sorrow overwhelms the older woman as Tamao's retelling of her loss forces her to relive hers. With a feeling of dejection, Miyuki closes her eyes. It never ends, not in the Strawberry Dorms.

Her falling for Shizuma had been very inevitable. The silver-haired woman exercised a near-death attraction on nearly everyone who encountered her. Her beauty was so radiant. Along with that radiant beauty is an image of a wild, headstrong, savage being turned loose within the confines of the Strawberry Dorms. As for Miyuki, she had been a subtle and introverted child, raised with meticulousness, yet lacking affection. So when both girls had been assigned the same room during their first year in Astraea Hill, a stage was set for a tragedy so obvious it was nearly comic. It would take years for Miyuki to learn to even build a hit-or-miss defense for her battered soul. Faced with familial and romantic rejection, she had learned to find solace in the fulfillment of duty. If a side of her ever existed that longed for love and affection, no obvious trace of it remained…at least on the surface.

"Tamao-san."

Tamao turns to her side and blinks up at the figure before her. Despite the cold, she is seated on the ground, just under by her favorite tree with a pen and paper in hand. No longer expecting for her poetry to come to her these days, the younger blue-haired girl just finds this strangely comforting.

"Rokujou-sama?"

The older woman pauses for a moment, then asks. "May I join you here, or am I disturbing you?"

Tamao is surprised to see her mentor's hesitation. As a response, she shakes her head and promptly shifts to make room for Miyuki by the tree.

"Not at all, Rokujou-sama. I'm always glad to have your company."

A smile formed on Miyuki's face upon hearing this statement said with so much affection and seriousness. She gazes at the younger girl and speaks without thinking.

"You're very sweet, Tamao-san. I'm really glad that we've gotten to know each other better."

Tamao looks away, feeling embarrassed. The warmth of her cheeks tells her that she's blushing. When she looks back at the older woman, Miyuki gazes out again into the frozen lake, with her fingers tracing the outline on her neck which is by now considered a familiar gesture.

"Forgive me, Tamao-san. But I don't think I can give you a proper critique of the work you gave me the other day."

Tamao was not able to hide her disappointment. "But why, Rokujou-sama? Is it that bad? Or perhaps your work at the student council doesn't leave you much time?"

Miyuki shakes her head to silence the younger girl.

"It's not that, Tamao-san. It's just that…what you've written…" Miyuki pauses then tries again. "Perhaps the best way to put it is to say that I don't have the required artistic distance."

This time, when they stare at each other, neither turns away. Gray eyes meet brown ones in a look of shared pain and compassion. Tamao nods…genuinely touched by the older woman's admission of an obvious, intense private grief.

"I understand, Rokujou-sama."

They continue sitting by the lake until the early evening.